Casina, or The Stratagem Defeated (760-811)

or anywhere else, there ever where such funny games as these ridiculous games that are going on in-doors here with our old gentleman and our bailiff Olympio. In-doors, all over the house, all are in a bustle; the old man is bawling away in the kitchen, and urging on the cooks.

Why don’t you go to work at once? Why don’t you serve up, if you are going to serve up? Make haste; the dinner ought to have been cooked by this. And then this bailiff is strutting about with his chaplet[*], clothed in white and finely rigged out. And then these women are dressing up the armour-bearer in the bedroom,

to give him to be married to our bailiff in place of Casina; but the artful baggages very cleverly conceal what the upshot of this[*] is really to be. Then too, in a manner quite worthy of them, the cooks are very cleverly doing their best to the end that the old gentleman mayn’t get his dinner. They are upsetting the pots, and putting out the fire with the water.

At the request of these ladies they are so doing; they, too, are determined to bundle the old fellow dinnerless out of doors, that they by themselves may blow out their own stomachs. I know these female gluttons; a merchant-ship[*] full of victuals they can devour. But the door is opening.

If you are wise, wife, you’ll dine, after all, when the dinner’s cooked. I shall dine in the country, for I’m desirous to attend the new-made husband and the newly-made bride into the country (I know the mischievous habits of persons), that no one may carry her off. Do you people indulge your appetite.

But do make haste and send him and her out immediately, that at least we may get there in daylight. I shall be here tomorrow; to-morrow, wife, I’ll be having a banquet still.

’Tis as I said it would be; the women are packing the old fellow dinnerless out of doors.

What are you doing here?

I’m going whither she sent me.

Really?

Seriously.

What are you looking for here?

Really I’m looking for nothing at all.

Be off; you are loitering here; the others are bustling about in-doors.

I’m off.

Be off, then, will you, away from here, you jade of jades. (PARDALISCA goes into the house.) Is she gone then? I may now say here anything I please.

He that’s in love, i’ faith, even if he is hungry, isn’t hungry at all. But see, the bailiff, my associate[*], companion, and husband-in-copartnership, is coming out of doors with wreath and torch.

Come, piper, while they are escorting the new-made bride out of doors, make the whole of this street resound with a sweet wedding-tune[*].

Io Hymen hymenaee! Io Hymen!

How fare you, my preserver?

I’m very hungry, faith; and, in fact, I’m not thirsty a little.

But I’m in love.

Still, upon my faith, love, I shan’t be making any trial of you. For some time past my inside has been grumbling with emptiness.

But why is she now delaying so long in-doors, just as though on purpose?

The greater the haste I’m in, in so much the less is she.

What if I were even to trill an hymeneal lay?

I agree to that; and I’ll help you at these our common nuptials.

Hymen hymenaee! Io Hymen!

Upon my faith, I’m dreadfully done up; one may burst one’s self with singing this hymeneal lay; if I do burst this way[*], I can’t burst any other, that I may make sure of.

Upon my faith, for sure, if you were a horse, you’d never be broken in.