"You stay to guard the youth! Nay, I shall stay myself. Go thou and tell Her Majesty." Thereupon they all fell to quarrelling as to who should remain beside the handsome youth and who should go. Each declared openly that she could gaze upon him forever, because he was such a beauty, which would doubtless have embarrassed Tamino dreadfully if he had not been quite too tired to attend to what they said.

The upshot of it was that all three went, rather than leave any one of them to watch with him. When they had disappeared into the temple once more, Tamino half roused himself and saw the serpent lying dead beside him.

"I wonder where I can be?" he mused. "I was saved in the nick of time: I was too exhausted to run farther," and at that moment he heard a beautiful strain of music, played upon a flute:

[[Listen]]

He raised himself to listen attentively, and soon he saw a man descending from among the rocks behind the temple. Still fearful of new adventures while he was unarmed and worn, Tamino rose and hid himself in the trees. The man's name was Papageno, and he carried a great cage filled with birds upon his back; in both hands he held a pipe, which was like the pipe of Pan, and it was upon this that he was making music. He also sang:

[[Listen]]

A fowler bold in me you see,
A man of mirth and minstrelsy;
My name is ever in demand,
With old and young thro'out the land—
I set my traps, the birds flock round,
I whistle, and they know the sound.
For wealth my lot I'd not resign,
For every bird that flies is mine.
I am a fowler, bold and free,
A man of mirth and minstrelsy;
My name is ever in demand,
With old and young throughout the land.
But nets to set for pretty maids:
That were the most divine of trades.
I'd keep them safe 'neath lock and key,
And all I caught should be for me.

So that exceedingly jolly fellow sang as he passed Tamino. He was about to enter the temple when Tamino, seeing he had nothing to fear, stopped him.