Ah, yes, yes, there's nothing in the world
like love, no bloom like its bloom; not a thing can you mention
that has more flavour and more savour. Upon my soul, it's most
surprising that cooks, with all their use of spices, don't use
this one spice that excels them all. Why, when you spice a dish
with love it'll tickle every palate, I do believe. Not a thing
can be either salt or sweet without a dash of love: it will turn
gall, bitter thought it be, to honey--an old curmudgeon to a
[self-consciously] pleasing and polished gentleman. It
is more from my own case than from hearsay I draw this conclusion.
Now that I'm in love with Casina, how I have bloomed out! I'm
more natty than nattiness itself. I keep all the perfumers on
the jump; wherever there's a nice scent to be had, I get scented,
so as to please her. [preening himself] And it seems to
me I do please her. [pauses] But my wife does torment
me by--living! [glancing toward his house; stiffens] I
see her, standing there with a sour look. And unless she's gone
deaf, she's heard every word. Well, I suppose I must greet this
bad bargain of mine with some smooth talk. [to audience, hopefully]
Unless there's anyone here who would like to substitute for me.
[vainly waits for reply; turns to his wife, fondly] And
how goes it with my dear and my delight?
If you think we’ve posted this in error, please contact us at firstname.lastname@example.org so we can make an appropriate correction.