Who?


HOFFMANN.

Nobody... nothing, my spirit is dullish.
Nothing. Klein-Zach is better, malformed as he is!


CHORUS.

Flick, flack,
There's Klein-Zach.


HOFFMANN (throwing away his glass).

Peuh!... this beer is detestable,
Let's light up the punch and drink;
And may the light-headed
Roll under the table.


CHORUS.

And may the light headed
Roll under the table.