A Little Night Music: Now / Later / Soon

歌手： Len Cariou Mark Lambert Victoria Mallory • 专辑：A Little Night Music (Original Broadway Cast Recording) • 发布时间：1998-11-01 
作词 : Stephen Sondheim
 作曲 : Stephen Sondheim
 Now, as the sweet imbecilities
 Tumble so lavishly
 Onto her lap,
 Oh Fredrick, what a day it's been!
 Unending drama! While Petra was brushing my hair...
 Now, there are two possibilities:
 A, I could ravish her,
 B, I could nap.
 ...that grumpy old Mrs. Nordstrom from next door
 Her sister's coming for a visit
 Say
 It's the ravishment, then we see
 The option
 That follows, of course:
 do hope I'm imperious enough with the servants
 I try to be, but half the time I think they're laughing at me
 A,
 The deployment of charm, or B,
 The adoption
 Of physical force.
 Now, B might arouse her,
 But if I assume
 I trip on my trouser
 Leg crossing the room...
 I can tell you how boring it was
 Her hair getting tangled,
 Her stays getting snapped,
 My nerves would be jangled,
 My energy sapped...
 You should have seen Mrs. Erling and the fishmongers...
 Removing her clothing
 Would take me all day,
 And her subsequent loathing
 Would turn me away,
 Which eliminates B
 And which leaves us with A.
 Could you ever be jealous of me? Could you?
 Like the Moor of Venice
 Now, insofar as approaching it,
 What would be festive
 But have its effect?
 Shall I learn Italian?
 I think it would be amusing
 if the verbs aren't too irregular
 Now, there are two ways of broaching it:
 A, the suggestive,
 And B, the direct.
 But then French is a much chic-er language
 Everyone says so. Parlez vous Francais?
 Say
 That I settle on B, to wit,
 A charmingly
 Lecherous mood,
 I know you like my hair this way, but, on top my head
 Like a siren
 A,
 I could put on my nightshirt or sit
 Disarmingly,
 B, in the nude.
 That might be effective;
 My body's all right--
 But not in perspective
 And not in the light.
 I'm bound to be chilly
 And feel a buffoon,
 But nightshirts are silly
 In mid-afternoon.
 Which leaves the suggestive,
 But how to proceed?
 Although she gets restive,
 Perhaps I could read.
 In view of her penchant
 For something romantic,
 De Sade is too trenchant
 And Dickens too frantic,
 And Stendhal would ruin
 The plan of attack,
 As there isn't much blue in
 "The Red and the Black."
 De Maupassant's candour
 Would cause her dismay,
 The Brontes are grander
 But not very gay,
 Her taste is much blander,
 I'm sorry to say,
 But is Hans Christian Andersen
 ever risque?
 Which eliminates A...
 And he said: "You're such a pretty lady!"
 Wasn't that silly?
 Now, with my mental facilities
 Partially muddied
 And ready to snap,
...I'm sure about the bracelet
 But earrings, earrings! Which earrings?
 Now, though there are possibilities
 Still to be studied,
 I might as well nap.
 Mother's rubies? Oh, the diamonds are--
 Agony! I know...
 Bow
 Though I must
 To adjust
 My original plan,
 Desiree Armfeldt -- I just know she'll wear the most
 glamorous gowns!
 How
 Shall I sleep
 Half as deep
 As I usually can,
 Dear, distinguished old Fredrik!
 When now I still want and/or love you,
 Now as always,
 Now, Anne
 Oh Henry dear, don't you have anything less gloomy to practice?
 It isn't gloomy, it's profound
 Well, can't you be profound...later?
 "Later"...
 When is "later"?
 All you ever hear is "Later, Henrik, Henrik, later."
 "Yes, we know, Henrik,
 Oh, Henrik,
 Everyone agrees, Henrik,
 Please, Henrik!"
 You have a thought you're fairly bursting with,
 A personal discovery or problem, and it's:
 "What's your rush, Henrik?
 Shush, Henrik!
 Goodness, how you gush, Henrik!
 Hush, Henrik!"
 You murmur:
 "I only--
 It's just that--"
 "For God's sake, later, Henrik!"
 "Henrik...
 Who is Henrik?
 Oh, that lawyer's son, the one who mumbles.
 Short and boring,
 Yes, he's hardly worth ignoring,
 And who cares if he's all dammed--"
 I beg your pardon--
 "Up inside?"
 As I've often stated,
 It's intolerable being tolerated.
 "Reassure Henrik,
 Poor Henrik.
 Henrik, you'll endure
 Being pure, Henrik."
 Though I've been born, I've never been!
 How can I wait around for later?
 I'll be ninety on my deathbed
 And the late, or, rather, later, Henrik Egerman.
 Doesn't anything begin?
 Soon, I promise,
 Soon, I won't shy away,
 Dear old--
 Soon, I want to.
 Soon, whatever you say.
 Even now,
 When you're close and we touch,
 And you're kissing my brow,
 I don't mind it too much.
 And you'll have to admit I'm endearing,
 I help keep things humming,
 I'm not domineering--
 What's one small shortcoming?
 And think of how I adore you,
 Think of how much you love me.
 If I were perfect for you,
 Wouldn't you tire of me
 Soon,
 All too soon,
 Dear old--
 Henrik!
 That racket! Your father's sleeping!
 Later
 Soon
 "Later"
 I promise
 When is "later"?
 Soon, I won't shy away
 "Later, Henry later." All you ever hear is:
"Yes, we know, Henrik,
 Oh, Henrik,
 Everyone agrees, Henrik,
 Dear old...
 Please, Henrik!"
 Soon, I want to
 Now, as the sweet imbecilities
 "Later", when is "later", all you ever hear is:
 trip on my trouser leg, Stendhal eliminates
 Soon
 Whatever you say
 Even now, When you're close and we touch
I'll be ninety and dead
 And you're kissing my brow
 And I'm stroking your hair
I don't mind it too much
 You'll come into my bed
 And you'll have to admit I'm endearing
 I help keep things humming,
 I'm not domineering--
 What's one small shortcoming?
 And think of how I adore you,
 Now/Soon
 Think of how much you love me.
 Now/Soon
 If I were perfect for you,
 Now/Soon
 Wouldn't you tire of me
 Later?
 Come to me soon
 We will, later
 We will soon
 I still want and/or love you
 Later
 Soon
 Now, as always
 Later
 Soon
 Now
 Desiree
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