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Please sit, good sir! Your name?
Are you old? Were you born in Prussia?
Your birthplace? Your weight?
Are you married or not?
Have you had to much to eat since yesterday?
Do you have any brothers? Any sisters?
Or are you an only son?
Your job? Your religion?
Your home?" and then after a pause,
"Do you lease or own?"
And he painstakingly wrote down my answers.

To what end he asked these questions, I don't know,
But it seemed to me that probably it was
owing to the height of his fees.

Now I wanted to show him my tongue.
But he told me, scowling, to keep quiet,
and said: "You don't have to say anything.
I can see it for myself! You suffer from stomach problems,
vertigo, morbid weakness,
fainting spells, constant vomiting -"

"No, no," I said, quite frightened, in a cheeping tone,
"It's only a mild ailment!"

But he wouldn't hear it:
"Whether mild or terrible," he shouted angrily,
"That's for me to decide!
Follow me! - Remove your clothes!"
I obeyed, trembling. Only too soon
did I feel total and utter misery:
He wished to extort a confession from me,
He guided me - to his torture chamber -