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No. 16 - Finale Act II

MIDI File

Aufpassen: There are your pris'ners, tackle em,
Quick, with your handcuffs shackle 'em.
Detectives: We'll tackle 'em, we'll shackle 'em,
They're in a lovely scrape.
Aufpassen: Put on the gyve and manacle,
All with a glee satanical.
Detectives: From manacle mechanical,
For them there's no escape.
Aufpassen: I'll run and tell the Duke straightway,
This capture'll make him glad and gay.
Voices off: Make way for Duke Rodolph!
Aufpassen: Too late am I, that's clear;
Our lord, the Duke, is here.
Chorus: Make way for the Duke!
The Duke is here!
Greta & Pumpernickel:
  What have we to fear?
Rodolph: What's the meaning of this noise and agitation?
The cause of this commotion and sensation,
The cause I come to seek;
Aufpassen, come! you speak!
Aufpassen: My lord, I hate to speak, but if I've got to,
I'll have to make the matter all quite clear.
The truth is this; my lord, I found Prince Otto
Eloping with your lady sister here.
Rodolph: What's this? My sister,
Deepest of disgraces.
My heart stands still, I feel myself grow pale.
Up with the lights, and let us see their faces.
This Otto shall spend all his life in jail.
Chorus: This Otto shall spend all his life in jail.
Otto: I spend all my life in jail!
Now pray you, why? Why? Why?
Chorus: Count Otto!
Rodolph: Count Otto? Who then are the guilty pair?
Girls: The singing girl!
Tenors: The singing girl!
Basses: The singing girl!
Aufpassen: My error I declare.
Rodolph: And who's the other in this dreadful pickle?
Girls: What! 'tis the Prince, ha! ha!
Men: What! 'tis the Prince, ha! ha!
Girls: Yes, 'tis the Prince, ha! ha!
Men: Yes, 'tis the Prince,
All: Now who can beat these two for slyness,
The singing girl caught with his highness!
ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
The singing girl caught with his highness!
Rodolph: What, not our sister?
Then where can she be?
Marie: Brother! Here am I!
Chorus: Duchess Marie!
Rodolph: Then speak, where is the lawful spouse
I ordered you to marry?
No such permit the law allows,
You've no permit to tarry.
Why is your husband not on hand?
Speak, careless girl, where is he?
Marie: Alas! I cannot say!
Frederick: The bridegroom's disappeared!
Chorus: Gone! Gone! The bridegroom's...
Rodolph: No matter! As the next resort,
We'll have a wedding here at court,
The Singing Girl, and Pumpernickel!
Pumpernickel: What! I?
Greta: He!
Pumpernickel:   What! marry with a damsel pugilistic?
Who to punch me will endeavor,
Thank you very kindly, never!
Marry with a girl of prowess fistic,
No, her beauty is too "striking"
To be really to my liking.
One expects a wife with plenty of mendacity,
But, to put it with the frankest of reracity,
I draw the line at upper-cut pugnacity.
What! A pugilistic wife?
No sir! never on your life.
Chorus: Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
A pugilistic wife? No sir!
never on your life, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! A pugilistic wife?
No sir! never, never, never on your life.
Greta: Little do you know the wife you're taking.
When we once are safely wedded,
How this muscle will be dreaded.
As a female athlete record breaking,
I will keep your poor head aching,
And your nerves forever quaking,
Oh, I know you'll surely worship domesticity;
Finest bruises you will have in multiplicity,
And nothing but the scandal of publicity
Will prevent you from the course
Of the speediest divorce.
Chorus: Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
A pugilistic wife? No sir!
never on your life, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! A pugilistic wife?
No sir! never, never, never on your life.
Aufpassen: If he weds that lady acrobatic,
I can see the termination
Of his marital relation,
He'll lock himself in cellar or the attic,
To avoid the slugging fearful
Of his better half so cheerful,
For she'll give him "upper-cut" with glee and merriment,
With the knock-out blow on him she will experiment,
Till he wishes for a monument and cerement,
He will lead a lovely life
With his pugilistic wife.
Chorus: Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
A pugilistic wife? No sir!
never on your life, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! A pugilistic wife?
No sir! never, never, never on your life.
He will lead a happy life
With his pugilistic wife. Ha!
Rodolph: No longer must he falter,
Go at once and seek the nearest altar!
Greta: Love is tyrant to all,
Holding hearts in his thrall;
No King has half his pow'r,
He with a glance makes e'en the bravest cow'r;
Woe to hearts that rebel
'Gainst the rule of his spell;
He soon finds them again
In a golden chain.
So I bid you beware, take care,
Lest you fall in his artful snare,
He'll deceive you, and will grieve you,
When his fetters golden you wear,
So I bid you beware, take care,
Lest you fall in his artful snare,
He will always play you,
He'll dismay you alway,
Still 'tis our fate that we should mate,
Yes, 'tis our fate that we must mate,
so let us go without delay
Since we must wed upon this very day,
Chorus: So lead the couple now away,
And happy they shall be today,
So away, away,
And happy they will be made today, today!

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