Y ou lug your wicker hamper across the stiletto-punctured lawn and bag a spot beside the ha-ha. You say “ha-ha” a lot because this is the only chance you get. Smoothing your frock or dinner jacket, you head inside for the opera—in this case, “L’elisir d’amore”, Donizetti’s comic delight of 1832—re-emerging at the long interval to picnic and covet your neighbour’s candelabra. Before the gong sounds for the second act, you stroll around the lily-pad-crowded lake, to a soundtrack of popping corks and the distant bleating of doomed lambs.
您将您的柳条篮伸向了高跟鞋的草坪，并在Ha-Ha旁边袋子。您经常说“哈哈”，因为这是您获得的唯一机会。使您的连衣裙或晚餐外套平滑，您可以进入歌剧 - 在这种情况下，“ L'Elisir d'Amore”，Donizetti在1832年的漫画喜悦 - 长时间出现在长时间的间隔中野餐，并渴望您的邻居的烛台。在第二幕的锣声声音之前，您漫步在莉莉棕榈拥挤的湖泊中，到达弹出软木塞的配乐和注定的羔羊的遥远的脸色。
