Archimede: Those truffles have come from my farm in Tuscany. Rigoletto and I hunted for them last June. He with his nose and I with my stick - to hit him on the nose when he find the truffle. He loves truffles, RigolettoFlora Preston: Mercy! Who is Rigoletto? Your son?Archimede: No. My pig, Madame [laughs] A great hunter of truffles, my RigolettoFlora Preston: What a strange name for a pigArchimede: Why not, Madame? He enjoys it, poor fellow. It gives him some style before the other pigs. My cow, I name her Aida; my ox: Don Giovanni. Oh, they're all very pleased.
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