And see that fellow singing yonder;

Singing, ye gods, and dancing too—

Tooraloo, tooraloo, tooraloo, loo—

Fiddledi diddledi, diddle di di;

Figaro sù, Figaro giù—

Figaro quà, Figaro là!

How he likes doing it—Ha, ha!

Di. While these do what? Ah, heaven! too true, at Venice

Christ is not risen either.

Scene II.—The Public Garden.