No fear of that; my cellar is well stored.
Altmayer. [to Frosch]
Aha! I see you smack your lips already.
Frosch.
I’ll have Rhine wine; what fatherland produces
Is better far than French or Spanish juices.
Mephistopheles. [boring a hole in the edge of the table where Frosch is sitting]
Fetch me some wax, to make the stoppers ready.
Altmayer.
He means to put us off with jugglery.