Re: Dr. Clayton Forrester's Science Roundup
Requiem for Methuselah
I am always impressed the way James Daly delivered Flint's lines in this final scene. It felt like Flint had the weight of centuries in every syllable.
Requiem for Methuselah
I am always impressed the way James Daly delivered Flint's lines in this final scene. It felt like Flint had the weight of centuries in every syllable.
SPOCK: Your collection of Leonardo da Vinci masterpieces, Mister Flint, they appear to have been recently painted on contemporary canvas with contemporary materials. And on your piano, a waltz by Johannes Brahms, an unknown work in manuscript, written in modern ink. Yet absolutely authentic, as are your paintings.
FLINT: I am Brahms.
SPOCK: And da Vinci?
FLINT: Yes.
SPOCK: How many other names shall we call you?
FLINT: Solomon, Alexander, Lazarus, Methuselah, Merlin, Abramson. A hundred other names you do not know.
SPOCK: You were born?
FLINT: In that region of earth later called Mesopotamia, in the year 3834 BC, as the millennia are reckoned. I was Akharin, a soldier, a bully and a fool. I fell in battle, pierced to the heart and did not die.
MCCOY: Instant tissue regeneration coupled with some perfect form of biological renewal. You learned that you were immortal and
FLINT: And to conceal it. To live some portion of a life, to pretend to age and then move on before my nature was suspected.
SPOCK: Your wealth and your intellect are the product of centuries of acquisition. You knew the greatest minds in history.
FLINT: Galileo, Socrates, Moses. I have married a hundred times, Captain. Selected, loved, cherished. Caressed a smoothness, inhaled a brief fragrance. Then age, death, the taste of dust. Do you understand?