do you ever see the sun in London?
Gildo: Yes, they see the sun in London, but only on three days of the week; on the other days they send it to be cleaned.
Carm: Then it is not the same sun as ours?
Gildo: It is a different sun. Our sun is made of gold and remains always bright. The sun of London is made of copper and, being constantly exposed to the air, it tarnishes more rapidly even than the breastplate of Carlo Magno, and you know what a lot of cleaning that wants.
Papa: All this is very interesting, but listen to me. I have something to say. When I was a boy at school—are you attending? Very well, then, I may proceed. When I was a boy at school, we had a professor who told us that in consequence of—
Caro: Signor Enrico, Signor Enrico, what is the English for Grazie?
Myself: It means Thank you.
Carm: Signor Enrico, Signor Enrico, what is the English for Buona notte?
Myself: Buona notte in English is Good night.
Aless:—and Paris is being besieged by four Turkish emperors, namely, Rodoferro di Siberia, Balestrazzo di Turgovia, Leofine di Cina and Bracilone d’Africa, and they have two hundred thousand men—
Gildo: Now me, please. Teach me to speak English. What did you say is the English for Grazie?
Myself: Thank you.
Gildo: And Buona notte?
Myself: Good night.
Gildo (tentatively): Thank you. Good night.
Myself: Bravo, very good.
Caro: What does that mean?
Myself: Very good means—
Papa:—and this professor of ours told us that in consequence of certain natural—do I explain myself?—of certain natural causes, it is rare for a human being to live more than one hundred years. It is therefore unlikely that—
Aless:—and Paris is being besieged by—
Myself: Yes, I know, Buffo, by four Turkish emperors and they have two hundred thousand men. I should think it must be rather a serious situation. But I want to hear about Ettorina.
Aless: It is a very serious situation, but do not be alarmed because—
Papa:—it is therefore unlikely that Gildo will ever reach the age of one hundred and seventy-four. Do I explain myself?
Caro: Signor Enrico, Come sta? what does it mean?
Myself: It means How do you do?
Caro (trying her hand): How do you do?
Myself: Brava. Very good.
(Nina did not ask to be taught English. She was following the conversation with sympathetic illustrative gestures not caring two straws whether anyone observed her, just as she did not care whether anyone observed that she was breathing; and, just as she could not stop breathing, so she appeared unable to stop her gestures. She was as incessant and as resourceful as the orchestra in Hänsel and Gretel.)
Carm: Signor Enrico, Signor Enrico, Io t’amo.
Myself: Oh! but this is so sudden.
Aless:—do not be alarmed, because—
Carm: What does it mean in English?
Myself: Oh, I beg your pardon. It means—
Aless:—do not be alarmed, for it is the will of heaven that—
Papa: I may even go further and say it is unlikely that Gildo—
Caro: Signor Enrico, do you know what Carmela is doing?
Myself: She is making lace on a pillow, no doubt for her wedding trousseau.
Carm (demurely): Not for my wedding. No one will ever want to marry me.
Myself: Oh, come now, you don’t expect me to believe that?
Aless:—it is the will of heaven that they shall all escape—
Myself: Well, if this is not for you, perhaps it is for Carolina’s wedding?
Aless:—that they shall all escape to Montalbano—
Caro (demurely): Not for my wedding. I shall never marry. I shall stay at home and look after my dear papa and my dear brothers.
Nina (recklessly): That’s all very pretty, but I’m going to get married. (She was sitting on the edge of the table swinging her legs.)
Aless:—that they shall all escape to Montalbano through the subterranean road which the devils—
Myself: Why don’t you tell me about Ettorina? Come to Ettorina.
Aless: One moment, if you please—which the devils will make on Wednesday evening—
Carm: You have not yet told me what it is in English.
Myself: What what is in English?
Carm: Io t’amo.
(By the time I had given the information Papa, who had been proposing my health in a speech of which I caught little except an occasional Do I explain myself? had begun perorating towards a close and was about to crown his remarks with a brindisi in verse.)
Papa: Questa tavola—
Gildo (taking the words out of his mouth):
—oggi è assai più bella.
Enrico! Bevo alla salute di tua sorella. [60]
Aless:—which the devils will make on Wednesday evening by command of Argantino the—
Papa (beginning again):
Questa tavola non è sporca ma è netta.
Enrico! mangia, e non dare a loro retta. [61a]
Myself (obediently taking a pear. It was a fine pear with a maggot in it;they wanted me to take another but I knew that those with maggots are usually the best. Not seeing why I should not be a poet also, I put it thus):
Animale
Non fa male. [61b]
Gildo (instantly raising his glass):
Ora che ho mangiato non sono più a dieta;
Bevo alla salute d’Enrico che è poeta. [61c]
Aless:
Anch’io voglio brindar, da povero precoce,
Ad Enrico che sentir vuole la mia voce;
Da un anno non ti vedo, O caro fratello!
Vieni oggi, ti farò sentir l’Otello. [61d]
Myself (bowing my acknowledgments): Thank you very much.
Gildo: What did you say? Does that mean Good night? Is that what you said before?
Myself: Very much means Molto, Thank you means Grazie, and Good night means Buona notte.
Gildo: Let me try. Very much thank you good night?
Myself: Bravo, Gildo! You are making progress.
(Nina was not so much preoccupied with her comments as to be unable to take a line of her own when there was nothing particularly inspiring in the conversation and, just now, she had laid her head down in an empty plate and was unostentatiously putting out her tongue and making faces sideways at me.)
Gildo (taking a fig in one hand and raising his glass with the other):
Oggi