Oggi mi voglio mangiare un fico;
Bevo alla salute del Signor Enrico. [62]
(I had to drink each time, not much—merely to acknowledge the compliment—excusing myself by saying I had not the energy to drink more.)
Myself: My dear Buffo, when you have sufficiently got into the habit of being twenty-five to approach the age Gildo says he is, you will not have so much energy as you have now.
Aless: Yes, I shall.
Myself: No, Buffo mio.
Aless: We will make a bet about it, but you will lose.
Gildo (to Aless): By that time Enrico will not be here to pay if he does lose, so you will not win.
Myself: Bravo, Gildo.
Gildo (bowing his acknowledgments): Thank you very night—Why do you laugh? That is what you say. Why do you laugh?
Papa (taking his revenge about the brindisi): Don’t talk so much, Gildo.