Hermann (to Hoffmann).
Oh, oh, whence comes this ill temper?
Nathanael (to Hoffmann).
It’s as if one did not know you.
Hermann.
On what thorn have you trod?
Hoffmann.
Alas, on a dead herb
With the iced breath of the north.
Nicklausse.
Hermann (to Hoffmann).
Oh, oh, whence comes this ill temper?
Nathanael (to Hoffmann).
It’s as if one did not know you.
Hermann.
On what thorn have you trod?
Hoffmann.
Alas, on a dead herb
With the iced breath of the north.
Nicklausse.