"And this, dear youth," she said, going to Tamino and giving him a golden flute, "is for thee. Take it, and its magic will guard thee from all harm. Wherever thou shalt wander in search of the Queen's daughter, this enchanted flute will protect thee. Only play upon it. It will calm anger and soothe the sorrowing." "Thou, Papageno," said another, "art to go with the Prince, by the Queen's command, to Sarastro's castle, and serve him faithfully." At that the fowler was frightened half to death. No indeed! that I decline. From yourselves have I not heard That he's fiercer than the pard? If by him I were accosted He would have me plucked and roasted. "Have no fear, but do as you are bid. The Prince and his flute shall keep thee safe from Sarastro." I wish the Prince at all the devils; For death nowise I search; What if, to crown my many evils, He should leave me in the lurch? He did not feel half as brave as he had seemed when he told Tamino how he had killed the serpent. Then another of the ladies of the court gave to Papageno a chime of bells, hidden in a casket. "Are these for me?" he asked. "Aye, and none but thou canst play upon them. With a golden chime and a golden flute, thou art both safe. The music of these things shall charm the wicked heart and soothe the savage breast. So, fare ye well, both." And away went the two strange adventurers, Papageno and Tamino, one a prince, the other a bird-catcher. _Scene II_ After travelling for a week and a day, the two adventurers came to a fine palace. Tamino sent the fowler with his chime of bells up to the great place to spy out what he could, and he was to return and bring the Prince news. Without knowing it they had already arrived at the palace of Sarastro, and at that very moment Pamina, the Queen's daughter, was in great peril. In a beautiful room, furnished with divans, and everything in Egyptian style, sat Monostatos, a Moor, who was in the secrets of Sarastro, who had stolen the Princess. Monostatos had just had the Princess brought before him and had listened malignantly to her pleadings to be set free. "I do not fear death," she was saying; "but it is certain that if I do not return home, my mother will die of grief." "Well, I have had enough of thy meanings, and I shall teach thee to be more pleasing; so minions," calling to the guards and servants of the castle, "chain this tearful young woman's hands, and see if it will not teach her to make herself more agreeable." As the slaves entered, to place the fetters upon her hands, the Princess fell senseless upon a divan. "Away, away, all of you!" Monostatos cried, just as Papageno peeped in at the palace window.