All language subtitles for 3PeopWi Tlk

Has the message to do with some
confidential information about a patient?

It has to do only
with your husband.

In that case it doesn't matter
whether I tell him about it or he tells me.

A relationship...

- A relationship of such
mutual trust is heartwarming.
- Thank you.

You understand that my presence here
is a matter of duty...

not necessarily
personal inclination.

You are well known
as a man without personal inclinations.

Thank you.

- May I have a glass of water?
- On the table. Help yourself.

- It's so beautifully arranged.
- Just drinking some water won't hurt it.

You're extremely generous.

Mrs. Praetorius...

there have been
for some time now...

persistent, but obviously unreliable rumors
about your husband.

About women?

About the circumstances
under which he has practiced medicine...

about his methods and certain events,
both past and present.

Oh, that.

And, uh, in view
of certain disclosures...

unfounded of course, which
have come to light recently...

concerning both Dr. Praetorius
and his most intimate associate.

My husband is intimate
only with me.

The dean of our university...

has asked me to present
to Dr. Praetorius...

a list of the charges that
have been brought against him.

Who brought these charges?

Dean Brockwell invites your husband
to disprove these charges.

In confidence,
of course.

Should your husband be unwilling
to accept this offer of a private hearing...

then the dean will have no recourse
other than to summon Dr. Praetorius...

before
a faculty committee...

for an open discussion
of the charges in question.

They must be pretty serious.
What are they?

- I'm not privileged to reveal them.
- But you know what they are.

Unhappily, I do.

This must be a great strain
on you, Professor.

The performance of one's
duty in a profession...

founded upon such
high standards of honor...

dignity, learning and ethics...

One thing you can be sure of... my husband
isn't going to sneak into the dean's office...

to clear his name in private.

He'll drag those nasty, vicious rumors
of yours right out into the open...

and get rid of them in the open
where you've been spreading them!

Mrs. Praetorius,
you're not being objective.

We are discussing my husband,
not a kidney.

You are also leaping
at conclusions.

All rumors need not necessarily be vicious
and nasty. It depends upon the viewpoint.

I am pretty well committed
to one particular viewpoint, Professor.

- Quite so. Well, I must be going.
- [Door Opens]

I admire your courage
and faith.

Most women would be
perhaps... apprehensive.

- Most women are not married to my husband.
- True.

Whatever he did,
he did for good and sufficient reason...

even if it turns out
he murdered somebody.

I have never had occasion
to envy Dr. Praetorius.

May I say that I envy him you?

You have that right
under the Constitution of the United States.

Will you show the professor to the door,
Mr. Shunderson? He's leaving.

- Thank you for your hospitality.
- Drop in any time.

Give this to the miracle man.

I'll take it to him.

[Praetorius]
Beep.!

[Horn Tooting]

[Bell Dinging]

[Arthur]
Beep-beep.

[Barker]
Beep-beep-beep.

[Horn Tooting]

What was that?

Uh, darling?

- Professor Lionel Barker!
- What happened?

"What happened?" Did your train leave
on beep-beep or beep-beep-beep?

- [Barker] Beep-beep-beep.
- Your signal was beep-beep.

- Arthur's signal was beep-beep.
Mine was beep-beep-beep.
- We'll soon find out about that.

It was beep-beep-beep...
What a bloody mess.

And whose fault is it,
my fine atomic friend?

You can't go around smashing
everything you see. Everything isn't atoms.

- Yes, it is.
- Not for smashing. Not in
my house and not my train.

Deborah, get out of the way
before Professor Barker smashes you.

- Darling...
- Beep-beep-beep. Those were your orders.

- Arthur, what was your signal
to dispatch your train?
- Beep-beep.

[Barker]
I told you so. Mine was beep-beep-beep.

- [Praetorius] Arthur,
yours was beep-beep-beep.
- Beep-beep.

- Beep-beep.
- Beep-beep-beep.!

They're my trains and
I'm the chief dispatcher.

Beep from you, beep-beep from you
and beep-beep-beep from Arthur.

- What difference does it make?
- Look at this disaster.

In case of disaster, the responsibility remains
with the chief dispatcher.

And with a catastrophe like this,
he either resigns or blows his brains out.

I refuse to be held accountable
for the inability of two idiotic assistants...

to remember two simple signals.

- Noah, darling...
- I consider your high-handed
refusal to accept...

the testimony of two responsible men
as worse than idiotic.

Under the circumstances,
I consider it criminal.

Your signal was beep-beep-beep
and you know it was beep-beep-beep!

- Noah!
- Deborah, I'll leave it to you,
but remember, you're my wife.

[All Shouting At Once]

[Door Closes]

[Crying]

Is this what you're crying about?
Then what?

It's just that I love you so much and I went
and put all those candles on that cake...

when you're really only nine years old.

According to this document,
I am not the picture of childish innocence...

you imagine me to be.

- Do you want to read it?
- No.

Do you want me to tell you about it?

Not if you think you shouldn't.

"Not if you think
you shouldn't..."

is a phrase used exclusively
by women who assume a man's guilt...

without having the guts
to come out and say so.

Nothing could be less important to me
than this whole business...

of rumors and charges against you.

That's my girl.

Just a minute.

Just from the type of men who attack you,
anybody'd know you were innocent.

Anybody with half an eye.

You haven't done anything you shouldn't have,
have you, Noah?

Many times, but not as a doctor.
Don't let it worry you.

I won't.

- Noah?
- Hmm?

Does it seem to you that I cry a lot?

Truthfully, darling,
there's never been anything like it...

since the little Dutch boy
took his finger out of the dike.

- He never took it out. That's what killed him.
- Pompous know-it-all.

I never used to cry
at all, you know.

If I bumped my head...
something like that...

but now the least little thing
that happens, I start to bawl.

Why do you suppose it is?

Why do you suppose it is?

I get upset so easily these days,
and I used to be...

well, if anything, sort of calm,
even placid about things.

- What did you say the name of that frog was?
- What frog?

The one that gets pregnant
in two hours.

The frog doesn't get pregnant, darling.
It just shows certain indications.

Well, I'm beginning to show
certain indications.

Anyway, I think I am.

I feel so silly
talking to you about it.

No, no, I understand. It's the kind of thing
you'd rather discuss with a doctor.

I don't pretend to be an expert
about such things...

but I've always thought
I was a fairly normal adult young lady...

who knew roughly what every
fairly normal adult young lady should know.

Right now, I feel like
a kind of idiot Elsie Dinsmore.

What seems to be your problem,
Mrs. Praetorius?

I'm confused. I can't figure anything out.
I'm all mixed up.

After all I've been through
these past few weeks, I've got a right to be...

but not this mixed up,
not this confused.

Married exactly two weeks
and three days.

Noah, darling, forgive me for being little Nell
from the country about this...

but is it possible
that I could be having a baby already?

Little Nell, Elsie Dinsmore
or Catherine the Great...

it is entirely possible.

Well, if it's possible,
then you should be the first to know.

It is also probable.
Do you mind?

Comes the dawn, I'll stand
on that windowsill and crow.

Comes the dawn next December,
you'll be walking the floor with it.

- Next September.
- December, dear.

September.

Now you're getting mixed up.
This is April.

- December.
- September.

My dear Dr. Praetorius, unless they've
changed the rules about how long it takes...

or unless there's a new way to count,
I make it December.

There's nothing wrong
with the way you're counting.

You're just not starting
back far enough.

How can I possibly start
any farther back than...

No.

Oh, no.

You're quite a noble character,
aren't you?

I've never thought of myself
as one particularly.

No, really. I've heard of doctors
who were self-sacrificing and unselfish...

but apparently
there's no limit to yours.

Deborah, you couldn't
be more wrong.

Were you that afraid
I'd kill myself?

- How afraid is "that afraid"?
- Afraid enough to marry me
to keep me from it.

Is it conceivable to you that I would?

It seems obvious, doesn't it?

You mean that as a doctor
I was faced by a situation...

which I could only meet by marrying you...
that I did it as a remedy.

Deborah, as you know...

I believe in using any form of therapy
that will make people well.

But it would be impractical to make marrying
my patients a standard form of treatment.

- Why did you marry me?
- Because I was in love with you.

Is that why you came to the farm,
to ask me to marry you?

No, not consciously
at any rate.

Let's not mess with
the unconscious right now.

We've got enough conscious trouble
to worry about.

You fell in love
all of a sudden, didn't you?

All of a sudden.
I'm still falling.

Let me know
when you hit bottom.

Any time within
the next 30 or 40 years.

You came to the farm
because you knew I was pregnant.

And then you met my father
and my uncle...

and you understood
why I tried to kill myself.

By that time, you were all mixed up in it
because you told me that silly lie...

about the wrong frog.

And I was so obviously in love with you,
it was all over me like a tattoo.

And so with no possible way out for anybody,
all of a sudden you fell in love with me...

and that solved everything,
and everybody lived happily ever after.

For two weeks
and three days, that is...

until I found out that my baby
isn't going to be yours.

Funny, this calls for tears,
and I haven't got any.

I take it all back about my being normal
and adult and a lady.

What makes you think
it isn't going to be my baby?

Because it isn't. Because its father is
someone you never even knew...

someone I can't even remember
as well as I should.

All of which, however true,
has nothing to do with our baby.

His interest in this world
will begin as it does with all babies...

when suddenly,
through no fault of his own...

he is rudely deprived of a warm, secure
and well-fed existence...

which he has every reason to believe will
go on forever, and finds himself upside-down...

being smacked
on the backside.

- Are you going to love him?
- Of course I am.

So am I, and we'll keep him warm and we'll
feed him and make him feel secure again...

- and give him brothers to play with.
- All boys, eh?

It's time you stopped thinking about yourself
and started thinking about my baby.

- Noah, if you really suddenly
fell in love with me...
- No "if."

- Why?
- I couldn't say why.

- Haven't you ever wondered?
- Falling as fast as I am, I don't have time.

- A man as exact as you
with a reason for everything?
- Then I'll find it.

Any time in the next 30 or 40 years,
I'll start wondering.

I won't be doing much else it looks like,
except wondering...

about you and me, about you and the baby,
me and my fine character.

- Are you feeling sorry for yourself?
- I'm feeling sorry for you.

- Don't be.
- I love you.

- Be that.
- Forgive me.

- Shut up.
- Love me.

#[Cello Playing "Happy Birthday"]

Dinner is served.

I have forbidden you to bring
that disgusting echo chamber into my house.

- As your friend...
- Why is it here? Am I not
the master in my own house?

To provide for your wife
some contact with the world of sensitivity...

- of which you have no knowledge.
- Hear, hear.

# Happy birthday to you #

- # Happy birthday to me #
- # Happy birthday to you #

# Happy birthday #

# Dear Noah #

#Happy birthday

# To you

## [Orchestra Tuning up]

Excuse me. Pardon me.

Excuse me. Sorry.
Pardon me.

- Lionel.
- Oh. I'm late.

- The hearing must have started.
Why aren't you there?
- Not yet, but in a second.

Now, you mustn't be nervous.
There's nothing to be worried about.

Just see to it that they get it over with quickly.
Such nonsense.

May I? Thank you.

How dare they hold their silly investigation
the same night as the concert.

- It's unforgivable.
- It may be worse.

From what I hear,
Professor Elwell and his gang insisted upon it.

They consider it unlikely that Noah
will conduct if the hearing goes against him.

The reasons for it
could then hardly be kept confidential.

The hearing will not
go against him.

And besides, Noah would conduct
on his way to be hanged.

I'm terribly sorry,
gentleman, but unavoidable.

My apologies.

Well, now that we're all here,
shall we begin?

It is my intention, gentlemen,
to conduct this hearing informally.

Dr. Praetorius, wouldn't
you like to sit closer?

Thank you. I prefer to remain
as remote as possible.

I suggested it merely to avoid having our
discussion take on the appearance of a trial.

I appreciate your thoughtfulness...

but I consider this trial to be a trial.

I have no intention of regarding
an investigation of my methods and myself...

as a cozy little chat
among friends.

- Hear, hear.
- Professor Barker...

I will have to insist that no one speak
without being recognized by the chair.

I am by nature
a man who interrupts.

- However, I shall try.
- Thank you.

Dr. Praetorius,
may I suggest to begin with...

in order to avoid both the embarrassment
and time involved in examination...

that you give of your own accord...

a pertinent account of your life
and professional activities...

prior to your arrival in this city
and this university.

I prefer to be questioned.

- Why?
- Because I do not intend
to tell things about myself...

of my own accord which are
nobody's business but my own.

- They are the concern of
the entire medical profession.
- [Barker] Uh-uh-uh.

- Be recognized.
- You too, Professor Barker.

Your objection is understandable,
Dr. Praetorius.

Professor Elwell,
you may begin your questioning.

My colleagues have appointed me
to speak in their name.

I hope I may prove worthy of what is
not only an honor but a grave responsibility.

Dr. Praetorius, will you stipulate and agree
to abide by the verdict of this committee?

- I will do nothing of the kind.
- Why not?

Because I don't know
what the verdict will be.

The verdict will affect you seriously
whether you agree to abide by it or not.

Then why ask idiotic questions
to which you already know the answers?

One horse on you, Elwell.

Will you admit that in 1936...

you were a highly successful
quack and miracle healer...

in a remote little village
in the southern part of this state?

I will admit nothing
of the kind.

- Where did you live in 1936?
- In Goose Creek.

Would you describe Goose Creek
as a thriving metropolis?

It is a remote little village
in the southern part of this state.

Exactly. And, uh, what was your source
of income in Goose Creek in 1936?

- My practice.
- You practiced openly?

I was available to anyone
at any time.

I mean to say, did you set up practice
as a doctor of medicine?

When I came to Goose Creek,
I had my degree as a doctor of medicine.

I did not, however, display
my M.D. Upon my door.

Upon your shop door.

I beg your pardon,
his shop door?

Isn't it true, Dr. Praetorius,
that in that remote little village...

called Goose Creek
you opened a butcher shop?

An honorable trade,
if ever there was one.

In itself, unimpeachable.
But what did you sell in your butcher shop?

Meat, at cost.

At cost? Without profit?
Then how did you make your living?

I made sick people well.

Aha.

Mm-hmm. Why should that
startle you? I still do.

Do you deny that at that time
your patients were under the
impression you were a butcher...

and not a doctor?

Do you prefer the impression given
to their patients by so many of our colleagues...

that they are doctors
and not butchers?

Bravo! Bravo!

Dr. Praetorius, won't you admit
that your practice flourished in Goose Creek...

because you took advantage of the ignorance
of its backward inhabitants...

of the pathetic willingness
of those poor people to rely upon a belief...

in miraculous cure rather
than scientific knowledge...

and because of the readiness
with which so many people will prefer...

the glamourous quack
to the licensed practitioner?

Despite your definition of a quack
as someone who does not practice medicine...

according to your rules,
Professor Elwell...

the fact remains that a quack is an unqualified
person who pretends to be a doctor.

I was a licensed practitioner,
and therefore, not a quack.

And as to the willingness of those
so-called ignorant and backward people...

to rely upon the curative powers of faith
and possibly miracles too...

I consider faith, properly
injected into a patient...

as effective in maintaining life
as adrenaline.

And a belief in miracles has been
the difference between living and dying...

as often as
any surgeon's scalpel.

- That is not the issue under discussion.
- It is precisely the issue!

Whether the practice of medicine
should become more intimately involved...

with the human beings
it treats...

or whether it's to go on
in this present way of becoming...

more and more a thing of pills,
serums and knives...

until eventually we shall
undoubtedly evolve an electronic doctor.

The issue at hand is simply that you amassed
a fortune by treating sick people...

who believed that you were
a miracle-working butcher.

I could not have amassed
that fortune...

unless I had made an enormous
number of sick people well!

All this folderol, as I see it...

has got nothing to do with
the ethics and honor of our profession.

It has everything to do with envy
of one man's genius for healing the sick...

ofhis use of remedies you can't prescribe,
buy in bottles or apply with a knife.

Call Praetorius a psychiatrist, high priest...

voodoo, medicine man,
witch doctor, anything you like...

but don't investigate him,
gentlemen, learn from him.

Professor Barker, it was understood
you would not interrupt.

I'm sorry.

You can strike my remarks
from the record.

I'm sure you all agree with me anyway,
so why don't we call this silly thing off...

and start the concert.

It would interest me,
Dr. Praetorius...

to know why you ever left
this lucrative practice in Goose Creek...

and under what circumstances.

I'd always intended to leave when I'd acquired
enough money to start a clinic of my own.

As it turned out,
I left a little sooner than I'd planned.

I fired my housekeeper.
She was falsifying my grocery bills...

and splitting the money
with the grocer.

Unfortunately, she had
previously discovered...

my medical diploma
in a bottom drawer of my desk.

In revenge for being fired,
she let it be known around Goose Creek...

that I was not a butcher at all,
but a licensed M.D.

I was confronted by a crowd of angry
townspeople and forced to admit the truth.

I narrowly escaped being
run out of town on a rail.

Any more questions,
Professor Elwell?

A great many more.
Thank you.

[Crowd Chattering]

Shh.! Shh.!

- Professor Barker.
- May I point out that these monkeyshines...

are seriously delaying
the concert of our student orchestra?

Our concern here is
the future good and welfare of our students...

as doctors of medicine,
not as troubadours.

- Were you recognized?
- We're all concerned about
the delay of the concert.

The fact that this hearing conflicts with it
is a most unfortunate coincidence.

You don't believe that
any more than I do.

Continue, Professor Elwell.

- Dr. Praetorius.
- I thought you'd forgotten me.

Who is Shunderson?

I take it you mean Mr. Shunderson.

Mr. Shunderson is my friend.

Is he associated
with you professionally?

Not as a professional.
He helps at whatever he can.

He is also employed in your home
as a manservant or a butler, is he not?

I do not employ him at all.
He works at whatever he pleases...

where he pleases and when.

He is never very far from
your side or for long it seems.

- Really?
- Dr. Praetorius...

what was Mr. Shunderson
before you knew him?

I refuse to answer that question.

What were the circumstances
under which you made his acquaintance?

I refuse to answer that question.

You have always evidenced a remarkable
tolerance for this strange and mysterious man.

His qualifications
have been questioned.

His blundering and slow-wittedness
have caused complaint...

and yet you have protected him at all times
to the fullest extent of your authority.

His qualifications concern
no one but me...

since his responsibility
is to no one but me.

As to his so-called blundering
and so-called slow-wittedness...

perhaps I overlook them
because I know the reason for them.

And is the reason of so delicate a nature
that you cannot divulge it even here?

I have no right
to divulge it anywhere.

May I suggest to you then,
Dr. Praetorius...

that your refusal to divulge it
is not out of loyalty to Mr. Shunderson...

but is due to some unsavory
and dishonorable coercion upon you...

because the reason, which has been
so delicately characterized here...

has to do simply with Mr. Shunderson
having been a convicted murderer!

[Knocking]

What are you doing here?

I was listening
through the door.

I protest against this
highly irregular, unethical...

and probably prearranged
eavesdropping.

Elwell, you can use more words
more unpleasantly...

than any irritating little
pip-squeak I've ever known.

Gentlemen, I suggest
we leave the saloon floor...

and return to a more
academic level of behavior.

I want to tell my story.
He'll never tell it.

But what you want to know about me
has nothing to do with him.

Well, let's hear it,
by all means.

- Okay?
- Certainly, Mr. Shunderson.

Okay?

I'm not a fancy talker.
I... I don't know a lot of words.

That alone is a welcome relief.

[Clears Throat]
Well, now, l...

Don't start with
"Well, now."

Where... Where should I begin?

Tell them when you were
condemned to death for murder.

- The first time?
- Of course.

Well, the first time
was in Canada...

in 1917.

It was Christmas.
It wasn't a very merry Christmas.

Don't editorialize.
Just tell the facts.

I had a sweetheart and a friend.

We were very close, the three of us.
We went everywhere together.

Well, this one time
we went mountain climbing.

My sweetheart couldn't
climb very high...

so she stayed behind at a hotel
while my friend and I went on.

We didn't get very far
before we started to argue.

I don't remember what about.
We always argued...

as friends do.

But this time
he hit me with a rock.

So I hit him with one.

Not too much detail.

Anyway, we had a bloody fight...

and he ran away.

So, I went back to my sweetheart.

She was waiting
in the lobby of the hotel.

She didn't even say hello.

She took one look at the blood on my clothes...

and saw that I was alone...

and started to scream,
"Murderer, murderer!"

That was how I found out
that my sweetheart...

and my friend
were sweethearts.

Who saw to it that you were arrested
and charged with murder?

Oh, my sweetheart, of course.

Her testimony and the blood
on my clothes were enough.

I was found guilty
of murdering my friend...

and I was condemned to death.

But because nobody could produce
the corpse of my friend, living or dead...

my sentence was commuted
to 15 years at hard labor.

And was the corpse
of your friend never found?

I found it myself,
after I served out...

my full 15 years at hard labor.

I found it accidentally.

I was walking past
a restaurant in Toronto.

I happened to look in the window
and there was the corpse of my friend...

sitting at a table
eating a bowl of soup.

I think it was pea soup.

Immaterial and irrelevant.

Well, l... I went in
and spoke to my friend...

in a very friendly fashion.

I asked him very nicely where
he had been for 15 years...

and why he never admitted
that I didn't kill him.

His answer, gentlemen,
was unsatisfactory.

So I hit him in the face
with the bowl of soup.

Then I hit him with a chair.

Somebody called a policeman.
The policeman had a club.

I took the club away from him.

And it was with the policeman's club
I finished up on my friend.

I tried to explain to the policeman...

that if I was committing a crime...

it was a crime for which
I had already paid the penalty.

- He arrested me anyway.
- You were released, of course.

No. I was tried for his murder again
and sentenced to death again.

But how could you be tried twice
for the murder of the same man?

The prosecutor insisted
that this was not the same murder.

The first time no dead body
was produced as evidence.

Well, the prosecutor
was very fair about it.

He was willing to admit that
my first conviction was probably
a miscarriage of justice.

But even though the first jury
made a mistake...

he said I didn't have
the right to commit a murder...

just to correct that mistake.

He demanded the death penalty,
and I was condemned to death.

But this time you were pardoned.

No. This time they didn't
even commute my sentence.

You see, the fact that I killed my friend...

with a policeman's club
made it a very serious crime.

Then will you tell us, Mr. Shunderson,
how did you manage to escape?

- I didn't escape.
- Well, what happened to get you out of it?

Nothing. I was executed.

- Executed?
- This is absurd.

It was on the morning
of the 29th of February...

1932...

a leap year.

It was a gray and rainy morning.

The hangman put the noose
around my neck.

Then we had to wait
because some official forgot his glasses.

They held an umbrella over me
so I wouldn't get wet.

And then the official's glasses came.

He read something,
a minister prayed...

I closed my eyes
and thought of my mother...

the floor went out
from under me and that was that.

I must protest against this fantastic...

and childish assault
upon our intelligence.

You be quiet!

- Then what happened?
- The next thing I felt...

was a finger
with a rubber glove on it.

It was in my mouth
pressing down on my tongue.

I bit it and somebody yelled.

I opened my eyes and...

that was the first time
I saw Dr. Praetorius.

Only he wasn't a doctor then.
Just a medical student.

I think I can make
this next part of the story clear to you.

At the time all this happened, I was just
finishing my studies as a medical student.

I was also keeping company,
as they say...

with a young lady who happened to be
the hangman's daughter.

Both the hangman and his daughter
were generous and sympathetic.

The hangman in particular
was sympathetic to my desire...

as a student of anatomy
to have a cadaver of my own.

Knowing that Mr. Shunderson's
body would go unclaimed...

because certainly no one was ever more alone
in this world than poor Mr. Shunderson was...

the hangman managed to send it to me
immediately after the hanging...

along with a sweet note
from his daughter.

I was delighted,
of course.

But not for long. I soon found out
that Mr. Shunderson was still alive.

You must have been furious.

He told me his story.

We put some pig iron in the cheap
wooden coffin that he'd arrived in...

and had it buried
in a charity graveyard.

From that day on,
he has never left me.

And I think it is understandable
that from time to time...

he may seem a little confused...

and perhaps even a little dull-witted.

[Knocking]

I don't mean to intrude
too much, gentlemen...

but I'm sure that by now
you must have made up your minds.

Deborah, a wife simply does not
come barging into a room...

when her husband
is being investigated.

After all, if he's innocent,
he's late for the concert.

And if he isn't,
he'd better start conducting anyway...

because he may have to
earn his living at it.

I'm of the opinion the hearing is at an end.

Do you agree, Professor Elwell?

The trouble with you is, Elwell,
you've never had a cadaver of your own...

much less one that bit your finger.

[Dean Brockwell] And as for
this incredible evening, gentlemen...

the sooner we can forget it,
the better for all concerned.

And I think we've held up
the concert far too long.

Professor Elwell, you're a little man.
It's not that you're short.

You're little in the mind
and in the heart.

Tonight you tried to make a man little
whose boots you couldn't touch...

if you stood on tiptoe on top of
the highest mountain in the world.

And as it turned out...

you're even littler than you were before.

## ["Academic Festival Overture"]

#[Continues]

# Gaudeamus igitur #

#Juvenes dum sumus #

# Gaudeamus igitur #

#Juvenes dum sumus #

# Post jucundam juventutem #

# Post molestam senectutem #

# Nos habebit #

# Humus #

# Nos habebit #

# Humus #

# Vivat academia #

# Vivant professores #

# Alma Mater floreat #

# Quae nos educavit #

# Vivat membrum quodlibet #

# Vivat membra quaelibet #

# Semper sint #

# In flore #

# Semper sint #

# In flore #

#[Harmonizing]