Papagena, Papagena, Papagena! Little woman, little dove, my sweet! In vain! Alas, I have lost her! I was born to be wretched. I chattered, and that was bad, and so it serves me right. Ever since I tasted that wine ... Ever since I saw that lovely woman, my little heart has been on fire, aching here and aching there. Papagena, love of my life! Papagena, my sweet little dove! It’s all in vain, to no avail! I am tired of living! Death will put an end to love, though my heart still burns with longing. I shall now adorn this tree, by hanging from it by my neck, because I dislike life so much, good night, treacherous world. Since you have treated me so badly, since you grant me no sweetheart – All is finished, I shall die. Beautiful girls, think of me. If but one girl will pity poor me before I string myself up – I’ll refrain from killing myself! Just cry out: yes or no! No one hears me, not a sound! Is that your will, then? Quick, Papageno, string yourself up! Put an end to this life of yours. I’ll wait a little longer, just to see, until I’ve counted one, two, three. One! Two! Three! All right, then, let it be, since there’s nothing to hold me back! Good night, treacherous world.