Act 2 — Scene III

Tamino and the speaker who accompanied the priests and talked for them were in a large hall, and Papageno was there also.

"You are again to be left here alone; and I caution ye to be silent," the speaker advised as he went out.

The second priest said:

"Papageno, whoever breaks the silence here, brings down thunder and lightning upon himself." He, too, went out.

"That's pleasant," Papageno remarked.

"You are only to think it is pleasant—not to mention it," Tamino cautioned. Meantime, Papageno, who couldn't hold his tongue to save his life, grew thirsty. And he no sooner became aware of it, than an old woman entered with a cup of water.

"Is that for me?" he asked.

"Yes, my love," she replied, and Papageno drank it.

"Well, next time when you wish to quench my thirst you must bring something besides water—don't forget. Sit down here, old lady, it is confoundedly dull," the irrepressible Papageno said, and the old lady sat. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Just eighteen years and two minutes," she answered.

"Um—it is the two minutes that does it, I suppose," Papageno reflected, looking at her critically.

"Does anybody love you?" he asked, by way of satisfying his curiosity.

"Certainly—his name is Papageno."

"The deuce you say? Well, well, I never would have thought it of myself. Well, what's your name, mam?" but just as the old lady was about to answer, the thunder boomed and off she rushed.

"Oh, heaven! I'll never speak another word," Papageno cried. He had no sooner taken that excellent resolution than the three Genii entered bearing a table loaded with good things to eat. They also brought the flute and the chime of bells.

"Now, eat, drink, and be merry, and a better time shall follow," they said, and then they disappeared.

"Well, well, this is something like it," Papageno said, beginning at once to obey commands, but Tamino began to play upon the flute.

"All right; all right! You be the orchestra and I'll take care of the table d'hôte," he said, very well satisfied; but at that instant Pamina appeared.

She no sooner began to talk to Tamino than he motioned her away. He was a youth of unheard-of fortitude.

"This is worse than death," she said. She found herself waved away again. Tamino was thoroughly proof against temptation.

Then Pamina sang for him, and she had a very good voice. Meantime, Papageno was sufficiently occupied to be quiet, but he had to call attention to his virtues. When he asked if he had not been amazingly still, there was a flourish of trumpets. Tamino signed for Papageno to go.

"No, you go first!" Tamino only repeated his gesture.

"Very well, very well, I'll go first—but what's to be done with us now?" Tamino only pointed to heaven, which was very depressing to one of Papageno's temperament.

"You think so!" Papageno asked. "If it is to be anything like that, I think it more likely to be a roasting. No matter!" Nothing mattered any longer to Papageno, and so he went out as Tamino desired, and the scene changed.