You can help us modernize! The present website has been online for a very long time and we want to bring it up to date. As of May 6, we are $2,380 away from our goal of $15,000 to fund the project. The fully redesigned site will be better for mobile, easier to read and navigate, and ready for the next decade. Please give today to join dozens of other supporters in making this important overhaul possible!

The LiederNet Archive

Much of our material is not in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission.
Printing texts or translations without the name of the author or translator is also illegal.
You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.

For more information, contact us at the following address:
licenses (AT) lieder (DOT) net
Please read the instructions below the translations before writing!
In your e-mail, always include the names of the translators if you wish to reprint something.

Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were

Language: English

Porter
 Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were
 porter of Hell Gate, he should have old turning the
 key. (Knock.) Knock, knock, knock! Who's there,
 i' the name of Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hang'd
 himself on th' expectation of plenty. Come in time!
 Have napkins enow about you; here you'll sweat for't.
 (Knock.) Knock, knock! Who's there, in the other
  devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could
 swear in both the scales against either scale, who com-
 mitted treason enough for God's sake, yet could
 not equivocate to heaven. O, come in, equivocator.
 (Knock.) Knock, knock, knock! Who's there? Faith,
 here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing
 out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may
 roast your goose. (Knock.) Knock, knock! Never
 at quiet! What are you? But this place is too
 cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had
 thought to have let in some of all professions that go
 the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. (Knock.)
 Anon, anon! [Opens the gate.] I pray you, remember
 the porter.


Translation(s): FRE GER ITA

List of language codes

About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Authorship


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

    [ None yet in the database ]

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):


Text added to the website: 2008-07-01 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2019-05-02 17:38:57

Line count: 22
Word count: 179

Gentle Reminder
This website began in 1995 as a personal project, and I have been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your gift is greatly appreciated.
     - Emily Ezust

Qui si batte, nulla di più vero; ma se...

Language: Italian (Italiano) after the English

Portiere. 
 Qui si batte, nulla di più vero; ma se un uomo 
 custodisse le porte dello Inferno, egli dovria ben di frequente 
 volgerne e rivolgerne la chiave (battono). Picchia, picchia, picchia.
 Chi va là, in nome di Belzebub? Egli è un fattore 
 che s’appiccò, stanco d’attendere le messi: arriva in tempo; 
 porti pur seco buone tele, che qui n’avrà d’uopo per asciugarsi il sudore
 (battono). Picchia, picchia. Chi è là, in nome del Diavolo? 
 In fede mia, è un dottorino che avrebbe giurato sopra entrambi 
 i piattelli della giustizia, e commesso mille mariuolerie, 
 segnandosi sempre nel nome del Signore. Oh sia il benvenuto, 
 dottore (battono)! Picchia, picchia, picchia. Chi è là? 
 Sull’onor di Satanasso, l’è un sartore. Ah maladetto sartore! 
 vieni qui ad abbrustolarti la bugiarda lingua (battono). 
 Picchia, picchia: mai un momento di riposo! Chi siete voi...? 
Ma questo luogo è troppo freddo per poter raffigurare l’Inferno, 
nè voglio più farla da portiere del diavolo. M’era immaginato 
di condur qui un uomo di tutte quelle professioni che guidano 
pel più breve cammino al fuoco dell’eterna gioia; ma..... (battono).
Vengo, vengo (va ad aprire). In mercè, signori, 
non vi dimenticate del portiere.


About the headline (FAQ)

Note: this is a prose text. The line breaks have been added to try to make it line up with the original English.


Submitted by Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]

Authorship


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

    [ None yet in the database ]


Text added to the website: 2019-05-02 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2019-05-02 17:45:26

Line count: 21
Word count: 192