"Karl Schmidt," spake the judge, "I have heard the evidence against you. I am now prepared to hear any final rebuttal that you may have in this matter."
"Herr Eichler," began the accused, "my accuser, and the so-called witnesses, have provided what seems to pass for evidence that I am some kind of witch, but I have to wonder if they aren't doppelgangers themselves. Though they have the semblance of my neighbors, they appear to know me not at all, or else they'd know that I am no fool. What might make any man suspect that dealing with the devil will produce any good, even for only himself? Shall everything that I touch turn to gold, that I might starve without nourishment? Shall I become immortal, that I must outlive my every friend? Or shall I have a beguiling presence, and never know whether any friend is really true?
"During your deliberation, you plan to ask yourself whether I am a witch, but you can answer that simply by asking yourself whether I am a fool."
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