Part 31 (1/2)

Bucket looked around, puzzled. ”Is there a dog somewhere in here?” he said.

”Well, I for one don't believe in pandering to singers,” said Granny Weatherwax. ”Fancy food, indeed! I never heard the like! Why not give him mutton with the rest of us?”

”Oh, Lady Esmerelda, that's hardly a way to treat-” Bucket began.

Enrico's elbow nudged his interpreter, with the special nudge of a man who could see clootie dumplings vanis.h.i.+ng into the long gra.s.s if he weren't careful. He rumbled out a very pointed sentence.

”Senor Basilica says he would be more than happy to taste the indigenous food of Ankh-Morpork,” said the interpreter.

”No, we really can't-” Bucket tried again.

”In fact Senor Basilica insists insists that he tries the indigenous food of Ankh-Morpork,” said the interpreter. that he tries the indigenous food of Ankh-Morpork,” said the interpreter.

”'S'right. Si,” said Basilica.

”Good,” said Granny. ”And give him some beer while you're about it.” She gave the tenor's stomach a playful poke, losing her finger down to the second joint. ”Why, in a day or two I expect you could practically turn him into a native!”

The wooden stairs gave way to stone.

Perdita said: He'll have a vast cave somewhere under the Opera House. There will be hundreds of candles, casting an exciting yet romantic light over the, yes, the lake, and there will be a dinner table s.h.i.+ning with crystal gla.s.s and silverware, and of course he will have, yes, a huge organ- Agnes blushed hotly in the darkness.

-on which, that is to say, he will play in a virtuoso style many operatic cla.s.sics.

Agnes said: It'll be damp. There will be rats.

”Another clootie dumpling, Senior?” said Nanny Ogg.

”Mmfmmfmmf!”

”Take two while you're about it.”

It was an education watching Enrico Basilica eat. It wasn't as though he gobbled his food, but he did eat continuously, like a man who intends to go on doing it all day on industrial lines, his napkin tucked neatly into his collar. The fork was loaded while the current consignment was being thoroughly masticated, so that the actual time between mouthfuls was as small as possible. Even Nanny, no stranger to a metabolism going for the burn, was impressed. Enrico Basilica ate like a man freed at last from the tyranny of tomatoes with everything.

”I'll order another mint-sauce tanker, shall I?” she said.

Mr. Bucket turned to Granny Weatherwax. ”You were saying that you might be inclined to patronize our Opera House,” he murmured.

”Oh, yes,” said Granny. ”Is Senor Basilica going to sing tonight?”

”Mmfmmf.”

”I hope so,” muttered Salzella. ”That or explode.”

”Then I shall definitely want to be there,” said Granny. ”A little more lamb here, my good woman.”

”Yes ma'am,” said Nanny Ogg, making a face at the back of Granny's head.

”Er...seats for tonight, in fact, are-” Bucket began.

”A Box would do me,” said Granny. ”I'm not fussy.”

”In fact, even the Boxes are-”

”How about Box Eight? I've heard as Box Eight is always empty.”

Bucket's knife rattled on his plate. ”Er, Box Eight, Box Eight, you see, we don't...”

”I was thinking of donating a little something,” said Granny.

”But Box Eight, you see, although technically unsold, is...”

”Two thousand dollars was what I had in mind,” said Granny. ”Oh, dear me, your waitress has let her dumplings go all over the place. It's so difficult to get reliable and polite polite staff these days, ain't it...?” staff these days, ain't it...?”

Salzella and Bucket stared at one another across the table.

Then Bucket said, ”Excuse me, my lady, I must just have a brief discussion with my director of music.”

The two men hurried to the far end of the room, where they began to argue in whispers.

”Two thousand dollars!” hissed Nanny, watching them.

”It might not be enough,” said Granny. ”They're both looking very red in the face.”

”Yes, but two thousand dollars two thousand dollars!”

”It's only money.”

”Yes, but it's only my money, not only your money,” Nanny pointed out.

”We witches have always held everything in common, you know that,” said Granny.

”Well, yes yes,” said Nanny, and once again cut to the heart of the sociopolitical debate. ”It's easy to hold everything in common when no one's got anything.”

”Why, Gytha Ogg,” said Granny, ”I thought you despised riches!”

”Right, so I'd like to get the chance to despise them up close.”

”But I knows you, Gytha Ogg. Money'd spoil you.”

”I'd just like the chance to prove that it wouldn't, that's all I'm saying.”