Frosch.
Bravo, bravo!—his voice is quite divine.
Siebel.
Such fate may every flea befall!
Brander.
Point your nails and crack ’em all!
Altmayer.
A glass to liberty!—long live the vine!
Mephistopheles.
I’d drink to liberty with right good will,
If we had only better wine to drink.
Siebel.
You might have kept that to yourself, I think!
Mephistopheles.
I only fear our host might take it ill,
Else should I give to every honored guest
From our own cellar of the very best.
Siebel.
O never fear!—If you but find the wine,
Our host shall be content—the risk be mine!
Frosch.
Give me a flowing glass, and praise you shall not want,
So that your sample, mark me! be not scant;
I cannot judge of wine, unless I fill
My mouth and throat too with a goodly swill.
Altmayer. [softly]
I see the gentlemen are from the Rhine.
Mephistopheles.
Give me a gimlet here!—I’ll show you wine.
Brander.
What would the fellow bore?
Has he then wine-casks at the door?
Altmayer.
There, in the basket, you will find a store
Of tools, which our good landlord sometimes uses.
Mephistopheles. [Taking the gimlet.]
[To Frosch.] Now every man may taste of what he chooses.
Frosch.
How mean you that? Can you afford?
Mephistopheles.
