The Soldier, Disconsolate...

[Narrator]
The soldier, disconsolate, depressed, has left the village of his birth.
And wanders aimlessly about the countryside.
No longer feeling a connection with the earth, severed from his roots.
Like liquid on a hill, he takes the path of least resistance, no hope, no plan, until
One day, by chance, he stumbles upon the very man.
The cause of all his troubles, the bane of his whole life
Is right there at the roadside, nonchalantly leaning on a cane.
The soldier draws his bayonet and rushes to attack.
The Devil, quite unmoved, implacable,
Stands his ground and just stares back.

[Soldier]
Ah, Ha!!! You dirty cheat, it's you.
Defend yourself, you swine.
I'll teach you not to come between
Me and what is mine.

[Narrator]
He raises his bayonet to strike,
But his arm is magically stayed.
And the Devil, unblinking, unconcerned,
Makes no move at all to get out of the way.

[Devil]
So, it's me, OK, so, come on, why don't you attack!

[Narrator]
Our hero, impotent, bemused, crestfallen, falls back.
His resolve is in tatters, he's quite at a loss, all power is gone from his loins.
But, gathering his best shreds of resolve,
He straightens his back to achieve his full height,
And rather feebly rejoins.

[Soldier]
You filthy, dirty, rotten cheat!

[Narrator]
The Devil, condescendingly, replies.

[Devil]
Come, come.
Be a little more discreet.
You must learn how to behave.
Have you forgotten all I said?
And the book I gave you bound in red?

[Soldier]
Bugger the book, and bugger you, I'd like to see you dead.
I don't care about your bloody book or what you bloody said.

[Devil]
Yes, yes, but if you've got it still, then you've got all you need.
Stop snivelling, for god's sake, man.
Come on now, show some steel.
Aren't you a soldier? Be one, then.
Come on, show the ladies and gentlemen!
Attenshun!! That's it!! En garde, jolly good.
Put up that silly thing!
Now break ranks and stow your kit.
Good, good, that's it,
Now then, Platoon, fall in!
At ease. Stand easy! Atten-shun!
Platoon!! Off-caps!! No cap? Take mine.
Ha! I say not bad, it fits you fine.
Don't fall out! We've just begun!
You're not finished yet! Attenshun!
And the book, the last time you saw it was when?
Ah, yesterday, well, fetch it then.

[Narrator]
The soldier, dazed and in thrall, goes to his pack and starts mechanically to look through it.
He pulls out the picture, the mirror, the medallion.

[Devil]
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, only the book!

[Narrator]
The Soldier finds the book and returns holding it.

[Devil]
Be careful!! Don't let it come to harm.
That book's worth a fortune, don't you see?
You'll lose it like that, keep it under your arm.
Hold on to it tight, that's better, now then, listen to me.

[Narrator]
The Devil produces the old violin from under his coat and holds it out tantalizingly.

[Devil]
This here, this small violin, is mine.
And that book is yours, you have there.
So we each own our own thing, so to speak.
So everything's all fair and square.
Nobody forced you to make the trade, there was nothing underhand or sly.
So now you must lie in the bed that you've made, toodle-pip, cheerio, bye-bye!

[Narrator]
Exit the Devil, old, yes, little, yes.
But also, more than a little pleased with himself.