"Now, eat, drink, and be merry, and a better time shall follow," they said, and then they disappeared.
"Well, well, this is something like it," Papageno said, beginning at once to obey commands, but Tamino began to play upon the flute.
"All right; all right! You be the orchestra and I'll take care of the table d'hôte," he said, very well satisfied; but at that instant Pamina appeared.
She no sooner began to talk to Tamino than he motioned her away. He was a youth of unheard-of fortitude.
"This is worse than death," she said. She found herself waved away again. Tamino was thoroughly proof against temptation.
Then Pamina sang for him, and she had a very good voice. Meantime, Papageno was sufficiently occupied to be quiet, but he had to call attention to his virtues. When he asked if he had not been amazingly still, there was a flourish of trumpets. Tamino signed for Papageno to go.
"No, you go first!" Tamino only repeated his gesture.
"Very well, very well, I'll go first—but what's to be done with us now?" Tamino only pointed to heaven, which was very depressing to one of Papageno's temperament.
"You think so!" Papageno asked. "If it is to be anything like that, I think it more likely to be a roasting. No matter!" Nothing mattered any longer to Papageno, and so he went out as Tamino desired, and the scene changed.