Countess. "Tis that good-for-nothing Figaro who nas frightened the child with his prognostics. Page. No, indeed, madam; I am only grieved to part from so dear a lady. Weeps. Countess. Nay, but don't weep, don't weep. Come, come, be comforted. A knocking at the chamberdoor.] Who's there? Count A. [Without.] Open the door, my lady. Countess. Heavens! it is the Count! I am ruined; if he finds the Page here, after receiving Figaro's anonymous letter, I shall be for ever lost. What imprudence! Count A. [Without.] Why don't you open the door? Countess. Because-I am alone. Count A. Alone! Who are you talking to, then? Countess. To you, to be sure.-How could I be so thoughtless? This villainous Figaro! Page. After the scene of the great chair this morning, he will certainly murder me if he finds me here. Countess. Run into my dressing-room; and, Hannibal, lock the door on the inside. [Exit Page into the dressing-room. The COUNTESS opens the chamber-door. Enter Count ALMAVIVA. Countess. In her room, or my room, it's the same thing. Count A. Really, my lady, this Susan of your's is a very nimble, convenient kind of person. Countess. Really, my lord, this Susan of mine disturbs your quiet very much. Count A. Very true, madam; so much, that I'm determined to see her. [He goes to the dressing-room door, and calls.] Susan, Susan! If Susan you are, come forth! Countess. Very well, my lord, very well. Would you have the girl come out half undressed? She's trying on one of my left-off dresses. To disturb female privacy in this manner, my lord, is not to be endured. During this altercation, SUSAN comes out of her own room, perceives what is passing, and, after listening long enough to know how to act, slips, unseen by both, behind the curtains of the bed. Count A. Well, if she can't come out, she can anuter at least. Calls.] Susan! answer me, Susan! Countess. I say, do not answer, Susan I forbid you to speak a word. We shall see whom she'll obey. Count A. But if it is nobody but Susan, what is the reason, madam, of that emotion and perplexity so very evident in your countenance? Countess. Emotion and perplexity? Ha, ha, ha! Ridiculous! Count A. Be it as ridiculous as it may, I am determined to be satisfied; and I think present appearances give me a sufficient plea. [Goes to the chamber-door, and calls.] Hollo! Who waits there? Countess. Do, do, my lord; expose your jealousy to your very servants! Make yourself and me the jest of the whole world. Count A. Why do you oblige me to it? However, since you will not suffer that door to be quietly opened, will you be pleased to accompany me while I procure an instrument to force it. Countess. To be sure, my lord, to be sure; if you please. Count A. I shall lock the chamber-door after me; and, that you may be fully justified, I'll make this other door fast. [Goes to SUSAN's room-door; locks it, and takes the key.] Now, [shewing the key to the COUNTESS] I am sure nobody can get in or out of this room; and the Susan of the dressing room must submit to be confined here till my return. Countess. This behaviour is greatly to your honour, my lord. [Exeunt. Enter SUSAN from behind the bed; as they go off, she runs to the dressing-room door, and calls. Susan. Hannibal! Hannibal! Open the door; quick, quick, it's I, Susan. Page. Here's a window open. [Runs to the window. Below is a bed of flowers! I'll leap out. Susan. [Screams.] You'll break your neck. Page. Better that, than ruin my dear lady. [Gets go, Susan. upon a table at the window.] Give me one kiss before I Susan. Was there ever such a young-[Page kisses her, and jumps out of the window; SUSAN shrieks at seeing him jump down.] Ah! [Looks out of the window.] He is safe; yonder he runs, as light and as swift as the winds. If that boy does not make some woman's heart ache, one of these days, I'm mistaken. [SUSAN goes in at the dressing room door, but peeps back as she is going to shut it.] And now, my good jealous Count, perhaps I may teach you to break open doors another time. [Locks herself in. Enter Count ALMAVIVA, with a wrenching-iron in one hand, and leading in the COUNTESS with the other. Examines SUSAN's room-door. Count A. Yes, everything is as I left it. We now shall come at the truth. Do you still persist in forcing me to break open this door? I am determined to see who's within. Countess. Let me beg, my lord, you'll have a mo ment's patience; hear me only, and you shall satisfy your utmost curiosity. Let me entreat you to be assured, that however appearances may condemn me, no injury was intended to your honour. Count A. Then there is a man? Countess. No; it is only-onlyCount A. Only-only who? Countess. A child. Count A. Let's see this child.-What child? Count A. The Page! This d-nable Page again. The whole's unravelled. Come forth, viper! Countess. Do not let the disorder in which you will see him Count A. The disorder! the disorder! Countess. We were going to dress him in women's clothes for our evening's diversion. Count A. I'll rack him! I'll-I'll make him a terrible example of an injured husband's wrath. Countess. [Kneels.] Hold! my lord, hold!-Have pity on his youth, his infancy Count A. What? Intercede for him to me? [Runs to the dressing-room door.] Come forth, I say, once more. I'll rack him, I'll stab him, I'll— [While the COUNT is speaking, SUSAN unlocks the dressing-room door, and bolts out upon him, Susan. I'll rack him! I'll stab him! I'll-Ha, ha, ha! The COUNTESS hearing SUSAN's voice, recovers sufficiently to look round, is astonished, and turns back into her former position to conceal her surprise. Count A. [After looking first at SUSAN, and then at the COUNTESS.] And can you act astonishment, too, madam? [To the COUNTESS. Countess. I? My lord Count A. But, perhaps, she wasn't alone. [Enters the dressing-room; the COUNTESS is again alarmed; SUSAN runs to her. Susan. Fear nothing; he's not there. He has jumped out of the window. Countess. And broken his neck! Susan. Hush! To the COUNTESS.] Hem! hem! Re-enter Count ALMAVIVA, greatly agitated. Count A. No, there's nobody there. I've been confoundedly in the wrong. Approaching the COUNTESS.] Confusion, madam-Madam-Upon my soul, madam, you are a most excellent actress ! Susan. And am not I, too, my lord? Count A. [Kneels to the COUNTESS.] You see my contrition. [Kisses her hand.] Be generousSusan. As you have been. Count A. Hush! [Kisses SUSAN's hand.] Remember the garden to-night. [Turns to the COUNTESS.] My dear Rosina! Countess. No, no, my lord; I am no longer that Rosina whom you formerly loved with such affection: I am now nothing but the poor Countess of Almaviva-a neglected wife, not a beloved mistress. Count A. Nay, do not make my humiliation too severe. But, wherefore have you been thus mysterious on this occasion? Countess. That I might not betray that headlong thoughtless Figaro. Count A. What, he wrote the anonymous billet, then? Countess. But it was done, my lord, before I knew of it. Susan. To suspect a man in my lady's dressing Susan. What, undressed, my lord? Count A. But why didn't you answer, then? Susan. My lady forbad me. And good reason she had so to do. Aside. Count A. How could you, Rosina, be so cruel as to Enter FIGARO in a hurry; he stops on seeing the COUNT. Fig. They told me, my lady was indisposed: I ran to inquire, and am very happy to find there was nothing in it. Count A. You are very attentive. Fig. It is my duty to be so, my lord. [Turns to SUSAN.] Come, come, my charmer, prepare for the ceremony; go to your bridemaids. Count A. But who is to take care of the Countess in the meantime? Fig. Take care of her, my lord! My lady seems very well. Count A. Who is to guard her from the gallant. who was to profit by my absence? [SUSAN and the COUNTESS make signs to FIGARO. Countess. Nay, nay, Figaro; the Count knows ail The jest is ended, it's all over. Susan. Yes, yes; we've told my lord everything. Fig. The jest is ended! And it's all over! Count A. Yes, ended, ended, ended!-Aad all over! What have you to say to that? Fig. Say, my lord? Count A. Ay, say. Fig. I-I-I wish I could say as much of my marriage. Count A. And who wrote the pretty letter? Count 4. If I did not know thou liest, I could read it in thy face. Fig. Indeed, my lord? Then it's my face that lies, not I. Countess. Psha! Figaro, why should you endea vour to conceal anything, when I tell you we have confessed all? lord of the letter, which made him suspect that HanSusan. Making signs to FIGARO.] We've told my nibal, the Page, who is far enough off by this, was locked in. hid in my lady's dressing-room, where I mysel: was Fig. Well, well; since my lord will have it sa, and my lady will have it so, and you all will have it So, why then so let it be. Count 4. Still at his wiles. Countess. Why, my lord, would you oblige him to speak truth, so much against his inclination? [COUNT and COUNTESS retire, talking familiarly. Susan. Hast thou seen the Page? Fig. Yes, yes; you have shook his young joints for him among you. Enter ANTONIO, the gardener, half drunk. Ant. My lord,-my good lord,-if so be as your lordship will not have the goodness to have these windows nailed up, I shall never have a nosegay fit to give to my lady. They break all my pots, and spoil my flowers; for they not only throw other rub bish out of the windows, as they used to do, but they have just now tossed out a man. Count A. A man! [The COUNT's suspicions all verine, Ant. In white stockings. [COUNTESS and SUSAN discover their fean, and make signs to FIGARO to assist them, if possible. Count A. Where is the man? Ant. That's what I want to know, my lord. I wish I could find him. I'm your lordship's gardener; and though I say it, a better gardener is not to be found in all Spain; but if chamber-maids are permitted to toss men out of the window, to save their own reputation, what is to become of mine? Fig. Oh, fie! What, sotting so soon in a morning. Ant. No; this is only the remains of last night. Count A. On with your story, sir. What of the man? What followed? Ant. I followed him myself, my lord, as fast as I could; but somehow, I unluckily happened to make a false step, and came with such a confounded whirl against the garden gate, that I-I quite for-forgot my errand. Count A. And should you know this man again? Ant. To be sure I should, my lord; if I had seen his face, that is, Count A. Either speak more clearly, rascal, or I'll send you packing Ant. Send me packing, my lord? Oh! no; if your lordship has not enough-enough-[points to his forehead-to know when you have a good gardener; I warrant I know when I have a good place. Fig. There is no occasion, my lord, for all this mystery. It was I that jumped out of the window into the garden. Count A. You? Fig. My own self, my lord. Count A. Jump out of a one-pair of stairs window, and run the risk of breaking your neck? Fig. The ground was soft, my lord. Ant. And his neck is in no danger of being broken that way. Fig. To be sure, I hurt my right leg a little in the fall; just here at the ancle. I feel it still. Count A. But what reason had you to jump out of the window? Fig. You had received my letter, my lord, (since I must own it,) and were come somewhat sooner than I expected, in a dreadful passion, in search of a man. Ant. If it was you, you have grown plaguy fast! within this half hour, to my thinking. The man that I saw did not seem so tall as you, by the head and shoulders. Fig. Psha! Does not one always double one's self up when one takes a leap? Ant. It seemed a great deal more like the Page. Fig. Oh yes, to be sure, the Page has galloped back from Seville, horse and all, to leap out of the window! Ant. No, no, my lord; I saw no such thing.-I'll take my oath, I saw no horse leap out of the window. Count A. Drunkard! Boody! [The COUNT seizes ANTONIO, and flings him on the bed. sports. Fig. Come, come, let us go, and prepare for our [They are all going. Ant. Well, since it was you, as I am an honest 'man, I ought to return you this paper which dropped out of your pocket, as you fell. this is a petition from the poor poacher in prison. I never presented it to your lordship, because I know you have affairs much more serious on your hands, than the complaints of such half-starved rascals. Ah!-Hem! This-this-no, this is an inventory of your lordship's sword-knots, ruffs, ruffles, and roses. Must take care of this. [Endeavours to gain time, and keeps glancing and hemming to SUSAN and the COUNTESS to look at the paper and to give him a hint. Count A. It is neither this, nor this, nor that, nor t'other, that you have in your hand, but what I hold here in mine, that I want to know the contents of. [Holds out the paper, in action, as he speaks; the COUNTESS catches a sight of it. Countess. Aside to SUSAN.] "Tis the commission. Susan. [Aside to FIGARO.] The Page's commision. Count A. Well, sir; so you know nothing of the matter. Ant. There, my lord says you know nothing of the matter. Fig. Keep off, and don't come to whisper me. [He pushes ANTONIO out at the chamber door. Oh! lord, lord! [Pretending to recollect himself.] Wha a stupid fool I am! I declare it's the commission of that poor youth, Hannibal! which I, like a blockhead, forgot to return him; he'll be quite unhappy about it, poor boy. Count A. And how came you by it? Count A. Why did he give it you? Count A. To what? Fig. To get Count A. To get what? It wants nothing. Countess. [Aside to SUSAN.] It wants the seal. Susan. [Aside to FIGARO.] It wants the seal. Fig Oh! my lord, what it wants, to be sure, is a mere trifle. Count A. What trifle? Fig. You know, my lord, when you make out a commission, it's customary toCount A. To what? Fig. To affix your lordship's seal. Count A. Looks at the commission, and finds the seal is wanting.] The devil and all his imps! Erit at the chamber door. Fig. Are you going, my lord, without giving orders for our wedding? Exit, following the Count. Susan. What shall we do now, madam? The Page is too much frightened ever to be employed in a second plot. Countess. No more plots of Figaro's inventing! You see into what danger I've been brought by his fine concerted letter. Still, however, I wish I could convict my false husband of his infidelity to his face. Ha! a happy thought strikes me. I'll meet him in the garden, instead of you; and then nobody will be exposed but himself. But you must not mention one word of this, Susan, to anybody. Susan. Except Figaro! Count A. [Snatches the paper; the COUNTESS, Countess. No, not even to Figaro; he'll spoil my FIGARO, and SUSAN are all surprised and embar-design, by mixing some plot of his own with it. rassed.] Now, if it were you, you doubtless can tell what this paper contains, [keeps the paper behind his back as he faces FIGARO] and how it happened to come into your pocket? Fig. Oh my lord, I've such quantities of papers. [Searches his pockets and pulls out a great many.] No, it is not this.-Hem!-This is a double love-letter from Marcelina, in seven pages.-Hem!-Hem! It would do a man's heart good to read it.-Hem! And Susan. Your project's a charming one, madam; and I shall yet have my Figaro. [Exeunt. ACT III. going to be the representative of the Countess, I am || determined to give thee one kiss for thyself, and a hundred for thy beauteous lady. [The COUNTESS COUNT advances into her place; the Page, taking the draws back to avoid being kissed by the Page; the COUNT's hand, perceives he is discovered, and suaden y Enter AGNES, with a little basket of refreshments in retreats, crying in an under voice.] Oh! the devil! The Count again! SCENE I.-The Garden of the castle. Two Pavilions, one on each side of the stage. her hand. Agnes. Now for that good-natured, merry little Hannibal; he hasn't half learnt me my part yet. Poor thing, he has had nothing to eat since he came; and the cross good-for-nothing cook would not give me a morsel for him; so I was obliged to ask the butler for some cakes and oranges. It cost me a good kiss on the cheek; but I know who'll repay it. Hannibal! Hannibal! He's not there, sure. dear, and here's somebody coming! Oh! [Exit. into the pavilion on the left. Enter FIGARO, disguised in a roquelaure, with BASIL and PEDRO. Fig. I was mistaken; 'twas Agnes. What o'clock is it? Ped. Almost near the moon's rising. Basil. What a gloomy night! We look like so many conspirators. Fig. You understand, gentlemen, why you come hither; it is to be witnesses of the conduct of the virtuous bride I am soon to espouse, and of the honourable lord who has graciously bestowed her on me. You'll see my suspicions are not without cause. Basil. Ay; and I shall be up with my lord now, for not employing me in this assignation. [BASIL and PEDRO retire. Fig. No, my worthy lord and master, you have not got her yet. What, because you're a great man, you fancy yourself a great genius! But as little a man as I may, perhaps, be revenged on you. Oh! Susan, Susan! [Hearing a noise, he wraps himself up in his roquelaure, and retires a little. Enter softly, the COUNTESS and SUSAN, both veiled. Susan. [Aside to the COUNTESS.] So, so, in spite of all our secrecy, Figaro has, somehow or other, discovered our intention, and will be here. But I'll teach him how to suspect me, I warrant. Now let us begin. [Speaks louder.] If you don't want me, madam, I'll walk and enjoy the fresh air. Fig. [Aside.] Oh! the cockatrice! Countess. It may give thee cold. Susan. Oh no, my lady. Fig. [Aside.] Oh! no; she'll not take cold tonight. [Susan retires a little. Enter the Page. up and takes Page. [Seeing the COUNTESS. Is that Agnes yonder? [He approaches her.] No. Surely, it's Susan: it must be Susan. [Comes hold of the COUNTESS's hand.] Ah! my dear Susan. Countess. Let me go. In a feigned voice. Page. Come, Susan, Susan, don't be so coy.-I know it isn't Figaro you're waiting for, it is my lord the Count. What, didn't I hear this morning when I was behind the great chair? Susan. [Aside. The babbling little villain! Count A. Is not that somebody with Susan ? Advances close up to them, and draws back in a fury.] "Tis that infernal Page again. [Susan keeps out of the way, silently laugning Page. 'Tis in vain to say no.-Since thou art [Erit Page into the pavilion on the left. Whe this passes, FIGARO has advanced to drive the Page from SUSAN, as he supposes. Count A. [Thinking he speaks to the Page.] Since you are so fond of kissing, take that. [Strikes FIGARO Fig. I've paid for listening. [SUSAN laughe Count A. [Hears her laugh.] What, do such salatations make the impudent rascal laugh? Fig. [Aside.] It would be strange, if he should cry this time. [COUNT and COUNTESS approach each other. Count A. But let us not lose the precious moments, my charming Susan! Let these kisses speak my passion! Kisses the COUNTESS Fig. [Aside.] Oh, oh, oh! Count A. Why dost thou tremble? Countess. [Continuing her feigned voice.] Because I am afraid Countess's hand between his own, and kisses it. What Count A. Thou seemest to have a cold. [Takes the a sweet, delicate, angel's hand! How smooth and soft! How long and small the fingers! What piesthe Countess's hand. sure in the touch! Ah! how different is this from Countess. [Sighing.] And yet you loved her ace Count A. Yes, yes,-1 did so; but three years better acquaintance, have made the marriage state so respectable-Besides, wives think to ensure our fidelity by being always wives: whereas they should sometimes become Countess. What? Count A. Our mistresses. I hope, thou'lt not forget this lesson. Countess. Oh no, indeed; not I. Fig. [Aloud.] Nor I. Count A. Are there echoes here? Count A. And now, my sweet Susan, receive the portion I promised thee. [Gives her a purse, and pata a ring upon her finger.] And continue likewise to wear this ring for my sake. Countess. Susan accepts your favours. Fig. [Aside.] Was there ever so faithless a hussy! [The Countess pretends to be afraid.] Come, come, Count A. They are preparatory to thy nuptials. let us retire for a moment into the pavilion. Count A. Why not? There are no spirits. Count 4. Who goes there? Count A. [Aside to the Countess.] It's Figaro. her go, let her go! fine suspicions. [Susan advances and mimics the vouc Susan. [Aside.] Thou shalt pay presently for these of the Countess." Who is that ? Fig. [Aside.] 'Tis the Countess. What lucky chance conducted you hither, madam? You know not what scenes are this moment transacting. Susan. Oh yes, but I do, Figaro. Fig. What, that the Count and my virtuous bride are this moment in yonder pavilion, madam? Susan. [Aside] Very well, my gentleman! I know more than thou dost. Fig. And will you not be revenged? Susan. Oh! yes; we always have our revenge in our own power. Fig. [Aside.] What does she mean? Perhaps, what I suspect. That would be a glorious retaliation! [To Susan.] There is no means but one, madam, of revenging such wrongs; and that now presents itself. Susan. [Aside] What does the good-for-nothing fellow mean? Does it, Figaro ? Fig. Pardon my presumption, madam; on any other occasion, the respect I bear your ladyship would keep me silent; but on the present, I dare encounter all. [Falls on his knees.] Oh! excuse, forgive me, madam. Let not the precious moments slip! Grant me your hand. Susan. [Gives him a slap on the face.] Take it. Fig. I have it, I think. The devil! This is the day of stripes. Susan. Susan gives it thee! [As soon as Figaro hears it is Susan, he laughs very heartily all the while she beats him.] And that, and that, and that for thy insolence; and that for thy jealousy, and that for thy infidelity. Fig. Oh! happy Figaro. Take thy revenge, my dear, kind, good angel; never did man or martyr suffer with such ecstacy. Susan. Don't tell me of your ecstacy! How durst you, you good-for-nothing, base, false-hearted man, make love to me, supposing me the Countess? But I'll be revenged. Fig. Talk not of revenge, my love; but tell me what blest angel sent thee hither; and how Susan. Know, to thy confusion, that I and my lady, coming here to catch one fox, have entrapped two. Fig. But who has entrapped the other poor fox? Susan. Why, his own wife. Fig. His wife! Go, hang thyself, Figaro, for wanting the wit to divine this plot! And has all this intriguing been only about his own wife, after all? Count A. [Advances.] Susan! Susan! Fig. Aside to Susan.] There's my lord. A thought strikes me. Pr'ythee second me, Susan. [Speaks in a feigned voice, and kisses Susan's hand. ] Ah, madam, let us not longer converse of love, but enjoy its treasures. Count A. What's here? A man on his knees to the Countess! Feels for his sword. Figaro and Susan still laughing.] And I unarmed! Fig. Quickly, then, madam, let us repair the wrong which love this morning suffered by the impertinent intrusion of your lord. Count A. This is not to be borne. [Darts between them, seizes Figaro by the collar, while Susan escapes.] Villain! Fig. [Pretends amazement.] My lord! Count A. How, rascal! And, is it you? Holloa! Holloa! Who hears me? Where are my people? Lights, lights! Fig. You command with absolute authority over all present, my lord, except yourself. Count A. Now, sir, be pleased to declare before this company, who the-the woman is, that just now ran into that pavilion. Fig. Into that? [Going towards the pavilion on the right.] Count A. [Stopping him.] No, prevaricating fiend into that! [Pointing to the other.] Fig. Ah! that alters the case. Count A. Answer, or Fig. The lady, is a young lady, to whom my lord once paid his addresses; but who, happening to love me better than my betters, has this day given me the preference. Count A. The preference? the preference? 'Tis too true. Yes, gentlemen, what he confesses, I give you my honour, I just now heard from the very mouth of his accomplice. Basil. His accomplice! Count A. Come forth, madam! [Enters the pavilion on the left.] Come forth, I say, shew yourself. [Drags out the Page, still speaking, and not looking at him till he brings him to the rest of the company.] All. The Page! Count A. Again, and again, and everlastingly, this d-d diabolical Page! You shall find, however, he was not alone. Page. Ah! no. My lot would have been hard indeed, then. Count A. Enter, Pedro, and drag the guilty wretch before her judge. Ped. Come, madam, you must come out; I must not let you go, since my lord knows you are here. [Pedro goes into the pavilion on the left, and brings out AGNES.] All. Agnes! Ha, ha, ha! Count A. I'll find her, I warrant. Where is this daughter of infamy, who thus evades my just fury? Enter SUSAN, with her fan before her face, from the pavilion on the left. Here she comes, at last; proving her own shame, and my dishonour. Susan kneels to him, still hiding her face.] All. Pardon, pardon, gracious lord! Count A. No, no, no! [They all kneel.] No, no! Were the whole world to kneel, I would be deaf. Enter the COUNTESS, from the pavilion on the right, and kneels to the Count, whose back is turned to her. Countess. Let me, my lord, make one of the number. Susan drops her fan; the Count hears the voice of the Countess, looks round, and suddenly conceives the whole trick they have been playing him.] Count A. And-is it you, madam? Countess. [Inclines herself, in token of affirmation.] Count A. [Returning her bow with great confusion.] Ah! Yes, yes! A generous pardon, though unmerited. Countess. Were you in my place, you would exclaim, No, no, no! but I grant it, without a single stipulation. Susan. And I. Fig. And I. There are echoes here. Count A. I perceive, I perceive-I have been rightly served. Countess. Here, Susan, here is the purse and ring Enter Servants with flambeaux. PEDRO and BASIL which my lord gave thee. He will remember thy advance. sweet delicate fingers, so long and so small. Susan. Thank your lordship. Here, Figaro, Gives Count A. [To the Servants.] Guard all the pas him the purse.] sages, and seize this fellow. Fig. It was devilish hard to get at. |