Suppose, suppose—oh! I’ll leave off supposing,
For really I begin to feel like dozing:
And so I’ll take a dose (drinks). Why, this is queer!
What new-found sherry-cobbler have we here?
Narcotic music in my head is ringing
Such blissful airs, I cannot keep from singing.
Song, “Juliet.” Air, “O Mio Fernando.”
Oh mio Romeo, my galliant loverier!
My father’s house I’ve slipped for to meet thee;
But oh! my ducksey, do you be tenderer