With air commanding and weapons handy
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(London, the Mother Goose's brothel)
With air commanding and weapons handy,
we rove in a band
through the streets at night.
Our only notion, to make commotion
and find occasion to provoke a fight.
In triumph glorious,
with trophies curious,
we return victorious
from love's campaigns.
No troops more practised
in Cupid's tactics,
by feint and ambush the day to gain.
For what is sweeter to human nature
than to quarrel over nothing at all,
to hear the crashing
of furniture smashing
or heads being bashed
in a tavern brawl?
With darting glances and bold advances
we open fire on young and old.
Surprised by rapture,
their hearts are captured,
and into our laps they pour their gold.
A toast to our commanders,
then from their irregulars.
A toast, ladies and gentlemen,
to Venus and to Mars!
English Libretto or Translation:Not entered yet.
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