Part 19 (1/2)

BRANDER

A nasty song! Fie! a political song- A most offensive song! Thank G.o.d, each morning, therefore, That you have not the Roman realm to care for!

At least, I hold it so much gain for me, That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be.

Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, And so we'll choose ourselves a Pope.

You know the quality that can Decide the choice, and elevate the man.

FROSCH (sings)

Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale!

Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail!

SIEBEL

No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I'll resent it.

FROSCH

My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it!

(Sings.)

Draw the latch! the darkness makes: Draw the latch! the lover wakes.

Shut the latch! the morning breaks

SIEBEL

Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her!

I'll wait my proper time for laughter: Me by the nose she led, and now she'll lead you after.

Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, Should his good-night in l.u.s.tful gallop bleat her!

A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood Is for the wench a deal too good.

Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting, To smash her windows be a greeting!

BRANDER (pounding on the table)

Attention! Hearken now to me!

Confess, Sirs, I know how to live.

Enamored persons here have we, And I, as suits their quality, Must something fresh for their advantage give.

Take heed! 'Tis of the latest cut, my strain, And all strike in at each refrain!

(He sings.)

There was a rat in the cellar-nest, Whom fat and b.u.t.ter made smoother: He had a paunch beneath his vest Like that of Doctor Luther.

The cook laid poison cunningly, And then as sore oppressed was he As if he had love in his bosom.

CHORUS (shouting)

As if he had love in his bosom!