LAU. [Off stage.] Be still, or I will heave a plate at you!

LUIGI. [Off stage.] Nay, gentle Laura, heave not the wedding-crockery,
At the wedding-guest! Behold me on my knees
To tell the world I love you like a fool!

LAU. Get up, you oaf! Or here's a platter of gravy
Will add the motley to your folly!

LUIGI. Hold her,
Some piteous fop, that liketh not to see
Fine linen smeared with goose! Oh, gracious Laura,
I never have seen a child sucking an orange
But I wished an orange, too. This wedding irks me
Because 'tis not mine own. Shall we be married
Tuesday or Wednesday?

LAU. Are you in earnest, Luigi?

LUIGI. Ay, that I am, if never I was before.

LAU. La, I am lost! I am a married woman!
Water!--Nay, wine will do! On Wednesday, then.
I'll have it as far off as possible.

[Enter from banquet-room Guido, Giovanni and Raffaele.]

GIO. Well met, Fidelio! Give us a song!