Duncan was quiet for a moment, his hand just..dropping out of Go's, to his side, as his head slowly turned. When he opened his mouth, a few squeaks emerged, and finally he snapped his jaw shut to speak like a normal person.
"W-what? Premiers? You've seen premiers of The Oresteia?!" Clearly this fellow was old. Very old. AWESOMELY old. "I... that...that's amazing."
He couldn't say he was jealous of the man. Gods knew Duncan didn't want to be that old. Or live to be that old. He was pretty sure he was half-crazy now, at three centuries. He figured if he reached the thousands, he'd be walking around in a man-sized diaper and a copy of People.
"That is wonderful." He could, however, be jealous of the fellow's theater experiences. "I've tried to squirm myself a part in a lot of the classics, but there was never a place for me in those Greek classics. I was in a production of Lysistrata, but my features can never scowl enough for those intestine-shredding dramas."