FROSCH
(
sings
)
.
| In soaring flight, O Lady Nightingale, ascend.
|
| A thousand greetings to my sweetheart send.
|
SIEBEL.
| Forget the greeting to your sweetheart. Don’t annoy
|
| me with that tripe.
|
FROSCH.
| A thousand greetings and a kiss! You can’t begrudge me that.
|
|
(
Sings
.)
|
| Lift the latch! Still is the night.
|
| Lift the latch! My love waits below.
|
| Bolt the latch! The sun rises bright.
|
SIEBEL.
| Go to it, sing her praises and her glory!
|
| I will chuckle in my own good time.
|
| She’s played a dirty trick on me, she’ll do the
|
2110
| same for you.
|
| I hope she gets a hobgoblin for a lover!
|
| Let him toy with her at a crossroads.
|
| Some old goat returning from Block Mountain
22
|
| should gallop by and bleat good-night!
|
| A red-blooded clean-cut fellow
|
| is much too good for that slut.
|
| Don’t talk to me about greetings—
|
| unless it’s the kind that will smash her windows.
|
BRANDER
(
pounding on the table
)
.
| Attention! Now listen to me!
|
2120
| Gentlemen, admit it, I know how to live.
|
| Some lovesick boys are with us this evening,
|
| and it is proper that I present them
|
| with something for the night.
|
| Watch me! I give you the latest in songs!
|
| Be sure to come in strong at the chorus!
|
| (
Sings
.)
|
| A rat lived in a cellar nest,
|
| Her paunch could not be smoother.
|
| She liked her lard and butter best,
|
| And looked like Martin Luther.
|
2130
| The cook she set some poison bait;
|
|
The rat got in an awful state,
|
| As if she had love in her belly.
|
CHORUS
(
jubilant
)
.
| As if she had love in her belly.
|
BRANDER.
| She scurried here and scurried there;
|
| She guzzled puddle juice.
|
| She scraped and flitted everywhere,
|
| Her frenzy was no use.
|
| She leapt great leaps in mortal fear,
|
| Without a doubt, the end was near—
|
2140
| As if she had love in her belly.
|
CHORUS.
| As if she had love in her belly.
|
BRANDER.
| And in the glaring light of day
|
| She ran into the kitchen,
|
| Dropped at the hearth and jerked and lay
|
| Panting hard and pitching.
|
| And now the cook did laugh to boot,
|
| “Ha! This is her final toot,
|
| As if she had love in her belly.”
|
CHORUS.
| As if she had love in her belly.
23
|
SIEBEL.
2150
| How the numbskulls enjoy themselves!
|
| That’s what I call a skill to be admired,
|
| sprinkling poison for poor and helpless rats!
|
BRANDER.
| They enjoy, I see, your personal protection.
|
ALTMAYER.
| The old potbelly with his bald pate!
|
| Tough luck has made him tame and mellow;
|
| he sees in the bloated rat
|
| the living image of himself.
|
| (
FAUST
and
MEPHISTOPHELES
enter
.)
|
MEPHISTOPHELES.
| Above all, I must now introduce you
|
| to some jolly company,
|
2160
| so that you can see how smooth your life can be.
|
| To these people every day becomes a holiday.
|
| With little mind and lots of zest
|
| they twirl and dance in a tight little circle,
|
| like a kitten chasing its tail.
|
| So long as they keep their hangovers down
|
| and the host keeps their credit up,
|
| they are cheerful and carefree.
|
BRANDER.
| Look, they’re just back from a journey;
|
| you can see it by their strange getup.
|
2170
| They’ve been here barely an hour.
|
FROSCH.
| I’ll be damned, you’re right. A toast for my Leipzig!
|
| It’s a little Paris and gives a man polish.
24
|
SIEBEL.
| What do you take these strangers for?
|
FROSCH.
| Leave it to me. Once the glasses are filled,
|
| I’ll pull some worms of truth from their noses,
|
| easy as pulling babies’ teeth.
|
| They seem to be of noble family
|
| because they look proud and dissatisfied.
|
BRANDER.
| I’ll bet they’re a couple of hucksters.
|
ALTMAYER.
FROSCH.
2180
| Watch me. I’ll squeeze it out of them.
|
MEPHISTOPHELES
(
to
FAUST
)
.
| The dears would never suspect the devil,
|
| even if he had them by the collar.
|
FAUST.
| We salute you, gentlemen.
|
SIEBEL.
| We thank you and return your greeting.
|
| (
Softly, observing
MEPHISTOPHELES
from the corner of his eye
).
|
| Why does the rascal drag one foot?
|
MEPHISTOPHELES.
| Allow us to join you at the table.
|
| Since we can’t have wine of any quality,
|
| let the company make up for it.
|
ALTMAYER.
| You are a fastidious one, I see.
|
FROSCH.
| You left Rippach late, I guess.
|
2190
| Did you have supper with Master Hans?
25
|
MEPHISTOPHELES.
| We passed him on the road today.
|
| But we spoke to him on our previous trip.
|
| He had a lot to say about his cousins
|
| and had greetings for each one of you.
|
| (
He bows to
FROSCH
.)
|
ALTMAYER
(
softly
)
.
| There you are. The fellow is no fool.
|
SIEBEL.
FROSCH.
| All right, just wait. I’ll trip him soon enough.
|
MEPHISTOPHELES.
| Unless I am mistaken, we just heard
|
| the sounds of well-trained voices.
|
| These vaulted ceilings surely should provide
|
2200
| a splendid echo to such music!
|
FROSCH.
| You are a virtuoso, I suppose?
|
MEPHISTOPHELES.
| Far from it! My strength is feeble, though my desire’s great.
|
ALTMAYER.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
SIEBEL.
| Let it be a brand-new one.
|
MEPHISTOPHELES.
| We’ve just returned from Spain,
|
| that lovely land of wine and song.
|
| (
Sings
.)
|
| In ages past there lived a king
|
| Who owned a large-size flea—
|
FROSCH.
| Listen to that! A flea! Did you get that?
|
2210
| There’s a neat fellow, a flea!
|
MEPHISTOPHELES
(
sings
)
.
| In ages past there lived a king
|
| Who owned a large-size flea.
|
| On him he lavished everything
|
| As if a son were he.
|
| He called the tailor of the court,
|
| Who quickly came a-running,
|
| To fit him doublets long and short
|
| And breeches that were stunning.
|
BRANDER.
| And don’t forget to warn that tailor
|
2220
| to measure for a very tight fit;
|
| if he wants to save his neck,
|
| there’d better be no wrinkles in those breeches.
|
MEPHISTOPHELES.
| In velvet and in silkiness
|
| The courtly flea was dressed
|
| To the hilt with ribbons on his dress
|
| And a shiny cross on his breast.
|
| And he nobly brought to court
|
| His brothers and his sisters,
|
| For he was now a mighty lord,
|
2230
| One of the State’s ministers.
|
| The lords and ladies of the State
|
| Were very sorely tried.
|
| The queen said to the chambermaid
|
| “We cannot shield our hide.”
|
| The fleas did make them shiver
|
| And squeal as they were nicked.
|
| We slither and we quiver
|
| As soon as we are pricked.
|
CHORUS
(
jubilant
)
.
| We slither and we quiver
|
2240
| As soon as we are pricked.
|
FROSCH.
| Bravo, bravo! That was beautiful!
|
SIEBEL.
| It should happen to all fleas.
|
BRANDER.
| Cock your fingers, squish them prettily.
|
ALTMAYER.
| Long live wine, and long live liberty!
|
