SCENE, _the Garden_,
_With walks of cut trees in the back ground, and two
Pavilions, one on each side of the stage_.
_Enter_ AGNES. (_A lanthorn in one hand, and two cakes
and an orange in the other_)
_Agnes._ The Pavilion to the left? Ay, that’s it.--But if
he should not come soon!--He has not half learnt me my part
yet--Poor thing, he hasn’t eat any thing all day; and the
cross, good-for-nothing Cook would not give me a morsel for
him; so I was obliged to ask the Butler for these Cakes and
this Orange:--It cost me a good kiss on the cheek, but I
know who’ll repay--Oh dear, here’s somebody coming!--
_Enter_ FIGARO, _disguised in a red Rocquelaure_; Doctor
Bartholo, Don Guzman, Basil, Antonio. _Figaro imagines
at first Agnes to be Susan; and, as it is too dark to
see, endeavours to follow the sound of her voice, having
entered while she was speaking. Agnes enters the Pavilion
on the left._
_Figaro._ I was mistaken, ’tis Agnes! (_They all grope down
the stage till they get round Figaro_) What a clock is it?
_Antonio._ Almost near the moon’s rising.
_Basil._ What a gloomy night.
_Doctor._ We look like so many Conspirators.
_Figaro._ You understand, Gentlemen, why you are come
hither--It is to be Witnesses of the Conduct of the
virtuous Bride I am soon to espouse, and the honourable
Lord who has graciously bestowed her upon me.
_Basil._ (_Aside_) This will be a precious Revenge.
_Doctor._ Remember, Figaro, a wise Man has never any
Contest with the Great; it is the Battle of Don Quixote
with the Windmills; they whirl and dash you to a Distance,
without once altering or retarding their Course.
_Figaro._ Rather remember they have not courage to oppress
any but Cowards.
_Doctor._ He’s mad.
_Guzman._ Ye-e-es, he is ma-a-ad.
_Antonio._ But what about?
_Basil._ A certain Rendezvous;--Come this way, and I’ll
tell you the whole.
_Figaro._ Hide yourselves hereabouts, and come running the
Moment you hear me call.
_Doctor._ He is turning Fool.
_Guzman._ Ye-e-es, he’s turning foo-oo-ool--Stay and take
ca-are of him.
(_Exeunt._
_Manent_ Figaro _and_ Doctor.
{{_Figaro._ “Oh Woman, Woman, Woman! Inconstant, weak,
deceitful Woman!--But each Animal is obliged to follow the
instinct of its Nature; and it is thine to betray!----What,
after swearing this very Morning to remain for ever
Faithful; and on the identical Day! The bridal Day!----
_Doctor._ “Patience.
_Figaro._ “I even saw her laugh with Delight, while he read
her Billet!----They think themselves secure, but perhaps
they yet may be deceived.”}}----No, my very worthy Lord and
Master, you have not got her yet.--What! Because you are
a great Man, you fancy yourself a great Genius.--{{“Which
way?--How came you to be the rich and mighty Count
Almaviva? Why truly, you gave yourself the Trouble to
be born! While the obscurity in which I have been cast
demanded more Abilities to gain a mere Subsistence than
are requisite to govern Empires. And what, most noble
Count, are your Claims to Distinction, to pompous Titles,
and immense Wealth, of which you are so proud, and which,
by Accident, you possess? For which of your Virtues? Your
Wisdom? Your Generosity? Your Justice?--The Wisdom you have
acquired consists in vile Arts, to gratify vile Passions;
your Generosity is lavished on your hireling Instruments,
but whose Necessities make them far less Contemptible than
yourself; and your Justice is the inveterate Persecution
of those who have the Will and the Wit to resist your
Depredations.”}} But this has ever been the Practice of the
_little_ Great; those they cannot degrade, they endeavour
to crush.
_Doctor._ Be advised, Figaro--be calm--there has ever been
a Respect paid--
_Figaro._ To Vice--where it is not due.--Shame light on
them that pay it.
_Doctor._ Consider, he is----
_Figaro._ A Lord--and I am--a Man!--Yes, I am a Man,
but the nocturnal Spells of that enchantress Woman,
soon shall make me a Monster. {{“Why, what an Ass am
I!--Acting here the idiot part of a (_Strikes his
forehead_)--a--Husband--Altho’ I am but half finished.”}}
(_Agnes peers out of the Pavilion, and
approaches a little way to listen_.)
_Agnes._ Is that Hannibal?
_Doctor._ I hear somebody! (_Agnes hears the voice of the
Doctor, and runs in again_) I will retire, but if you are
wise, you will wait the Event patiently; your suspicions
may be unjust,--should they prove real, then shake her from
you, as her Ingratitude deserves.
(_Exit_.
_Figaro._ {{“Oh, how easy it is for the prayer mumbling
Priest to bid the Wretch on the Rack suffer patiently.
(_Figaro listens_) I hear nothing--all is silent--and
dark as their designs. (_Figaro pulls off his Roquelaure,
and throws it on a Garden-bench_) Why, what a Destiny
is mine--Am I for ever doom’d to be the foot-ball of
Fortune?--Son of I knew not who, stol’n I knew not how,
and brought up to I knew not what, lying and thieving
excepted, I had the sense, tho’ young, to despise a life
so base, and fled such infernal Tutors. My Genius, tho’
cramp’d, could not be totally subdued, and I spent what
little time and money I could spare in Books and Study.
Alas! it was but time and money thrown away. Desolate
in the world, unfriended, unprotected, my poor stock of
knowledge not being whip’d into me by the masculine hic
hæc hoc hand of a School-master, I could not get Bread,
much less Preferment.----Disheartened by the failure
of all my projects, I yet had the audacity to attempt
a Comedy, but as I had the still greater audacity to
attack the favorite Vice of the favorite Mistress, of the
favorite Footman of the favorite Minister, I could not
get it licensed.--It happened about that time, that the
fashionable Question of the day was an enquiry into the
real and imaginary Wealth of Nations; and, as it is not
necessary to possess the thing you write about, I, with
lank Cheeks, pennnyless Purse, and all the simplicity
of a Boy, or a Philosopher, freely described the true
causes of national Poverty: when suddenly I was awaken’d
in my bed at Mid-night, and entrusted to the tender care
of his Catholic Majesty’s Mirmidons, whose Magic-power
caused the heavy gates of an old Castle to fly open at
my approach, where I was graciously received, lodged,
and ornamented, according to the fashion of the place,
and provided with Straw, and Bread, and Water gratis. My
ardor for Liberty sufficiently cool’d. I was once more
turned adrift into the wide World, with leave to provide
Straw and Bread and Water for myself.--On this my second
birth, I found all Madrid in Raptures, concerning a most
generous Royal Edict, lately published, in favor of the
Liberty of the Press: and I soon learnt, that, provided
I neither spoke of the Wealth of Nations in my writings,
nor of the Government, nor of Religion, nor of any
Corporate-Companies, nor offended the favorite Mistress
of the Minister’s favorite Footman, nor said any one
thing which could be twisted into a reference, or hint,
derogatory to any one Individual, who had more powerful
friends than I had, I was at liberty to write, freely, all,
and whatever I pleased, under the inspection of some two
or three Censors!----Soon after this, a Place happened to
be vacant, which required a person well acquainted with
Calculation; I offered my Services; my Abilities were
not questioned; I waited, in anxious expectation of the
Event, and, in three days, learnt it had been bestowed,
two days before, upon a Dancing-master.--Persecuted by
Creditors, tired of starving, and unable, through the
feebleness of Youth to sustain so unequal a Struggle, I
had the weakness, at last, to sink before Temptation,
and set up a Pharaoh Bank. And now, for once, behold the
Scene changed! See me equally familiar with Lords as with
their Lacquies! Every door was open to me! Every hand
held out! But, notwithstanding my desire to be Something
in this world, my detestation of the brazen Effrontery,
profound Ignorance, and insupportable Insolence of these
fashionable Friends of Nobility was so innate that I found
I could better endure all the Miseries of Poverty than the
Disgrace and Disgust of such Society.--Quitting, therefore,
with contempt this new Trade, and leaving false Shame
behind me, as a burthen too heavy for a Foot-passenger,
I once more took up my strap and hone, and travelled for
employment from Town to Town.----At Seville I found a
Lord mad to marry his Mistress; my Wit procured him what
his could not, a Wife; and, in return, he gratefully
endeavours to Seduce mine--Strange concatenation of
circumstance! My Parents all at once claim me!--’Tis he,
’tis she, ’tis me, ’tis--I don’t know who!--I came into
the world without my Knowledge, and I shall go out on’t
without my Will; and thus do I continue to torment myself
about this Being of mine, without understanding what this
Being is, what it was, what it shall be, whence it came,
where it is, or whither it shall go.--I only know it to
be a compound of Contradictions! A little, wise, foolish
Animal, ardent in the pursuit of Pleasure, capricious
through Vanity, laborious from Necessity, but indolent by
Choice. After having exhausted every Art for enjoyment,
and every Profession for a livelihood, I found myself
intoxicated by a heavenly Illusion, that has vanish’d at
my approach!--Vanished!--And is it vanish’d?”}}--Oh Susan!
Susan!
(_Figaro sinks melancholy upon the garden-seat;
but being suddenly roused by a noise, wraps
himself up in his Rocquelaure._
_Enter softly, in each other’s dress, the_ COUNTESS _and_
SUSAN, _followed by_ MARCELINA.
_Susan._ So Figaro is to be here. (_In an under voice_)
_Marcelina._ He is here.
_Susan._ Thus one is come to lay the Springe, and the other
to seize the Game.
_Marcelina._ I will go and hide myself in this Pavilion,
where I shall hear all.
(_Exit into the Pavilion on the left._)
_Susan._ We may begin. (_Speaks louder_) If my Lady does
not want me, I will walk and enjoy the fresh air.
_Figaro._ Oh, the Cocatrice.
_Countess._ It may give thee cold.
_Susan._ Oh no, my Lady.
_Figaro._ Oh no! She’ll not take cold to-night. (_Aside_).
_Susan retires a little towards the Pavilion on
the left; Hannibal is heard singing, and, as
he enters, perceives the Countess, in Susan’s
dress._
_Page._ Is that Agnes, yonder? (_He approaches_) By her
long Lappets and white Feathers, it must be Susan. (_Comes
up and takes hold of the Countess’s hand_. Ah, my dear
Susan!
_Countess._ Let me go. (_In a feigned voice._)
_Page._ Come, Come; don’t be so coy. I know it is not
Figaro you are waiting for, it is my Lord the Count--What!
Did not I hear, this Morning, when I was behind the great
Chair?
_Susan._ (_Aside_). The babbling little Villain.
_Enter the_ COUNT _behind, and hears the Page_.
_Count._ 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 and silently
laughing._)
_Page._ ’Tis in vain to say no:--Since thou art going to be
the Representative of the Countess, I am determined to give
the one kiss for thyself, and a hundred for thy beauteous
Lady.
{{_Susan._ (_Aside_). “As impudent as a Page, says the
Proverb.”}}
(_The Countess draws back to avoid being
kissed by the Page, and the Count advances and
presents himself in her place; the Page feels
the rough beard of the Count, and suddenly
retreats, crying in an under voice_)--Oh, the
Devil!--The Count again!
(_Exit Page into the Pavilion on the left._)
(_While this passes, Figaro likewise advances
to drive the Page from Susan; meanwhile the
Count, on the Page’s supposed next approach,
prepares to give him a proper reception_).
_Count._ (_Thinking he speaks to the Page_). Since you are
so fond of kissing, take that. (_Gives Figaro a severe box
on the ear_).
_Figaro._ I have paid for listening. (_Susan cannot contain
herself, but bursts out a laughing_).
_Count._ (_Hears her laugh_). Why this is
inconceiveable!--Do such Salutations make the impudent
Rascal laugh?
_Figaro._ It would be strange if he should cry this time.
(_Aside_).
(_Count and Countess approach_).
_Count._ But let us not lose the precious moments, my
charming Susan!--Let these Kisses speak my ardour! (_Kisses
the Countess several times with rapture_).
_Figaro._ (_Aside, and beating his forehead_). Oh! Oh! Oh!
_Count._ Why dost thou tremble?
_Countess._ (_Continuing her feigned voice_). Because I am
afraid.
_Count._ Thou seemest to have got a cold. (_Takes the
Countess’s hand between his own, and amorously strokes
and kisses her fingers_). What a sweet, delicate, Angel’s
hand!--How smooth and soft!--How long and small the
fingers!--What pleasure in the touch!--Ah! How different is
this from the Countess’s hand!--
_Countess._ (_Sighing_). And yet you loved her once.
_Count._ Yes--Yes--I did so--But three Years of
better Acquaintance has made the Marriage-state so
respectable--And then Wives are so loving--when they _do_
love, that is--that one is surprised when in search of
Pleasure, to find Satiety.
_Countess._ Pleasure?--Love!
_Count._ Oh, no; Love is but the Romance of the Heart;
Pleasure is its History--As for thee, my dear Susan, add
but one grain more of Caprice to thy Composition and thou
wilt make one of the most enticing, teazing, agreeable
Mistresses.
_Countess._ ’Tis my Duty to oblige my Lord.
_Figaro._ Her Duty!--
_Count._ Yes--Women’s Duties are unlimited--They owe
all--Men nothing.
_Countess._ Nothing?
_Count._ It is not our Faults; ’tis the law of Nature--And
then Wives think to ensure our fidelity by being always
Wives--Whereas they should sometimes become----
_Countess._ What?
_Count._ Our Mistresses----I hope thou wilt not forget this
Lesson.
_Countess._ Oh no, indeed, not I.
_Susan._ (_Aloud_). Nor I.
_Figaro._ (_Aloud_). Nor I.
_Count._ (_Astonished_). Are there Echoes here?
_Countess._ Oh, yes.
_Count._ And now, my sweet Susan, receive the Portion I
promised thee. (_Gives a purse and puts a ring upon her
finger_)--And continue likewise to wear this Ring for my
sake.
_Countess._ Susan accepts your Favors.
_Figaro._ (_Aside_). Was there ever so faithless a Hussey?
_Susan._ (_Aside_). These riches are all for us! (_Still
keeps chuckling very heartily at what is going forwards._)
_Countess._ I perceive Torches.
_Count._ They are preparatory to thy Nuptials. (_the
Countess pretends to be afraid_). Come, come, let us retire
for a moment into the Pavilion.
_Countess._ What! In the dark?
_Count._ Why not? There are no Spirits.
_Figaro._ (_Aside_). Yes, but there are; and evil ones
too. (_Countess follows the Count_). She is going!----Hem!
(_Figaro hem’s in a great passion_).
_Count._ (_Raising his voice majesterially_). Who goes
there!
_Figaro._ A man.
_Count._ (_Aside to the Countess_). It’s Figaro!
(_The Countess enters the Pavilion on the right
hand and the Count retires_).
_Figaro._ (_Desperate_). They are gone in. (_Walks about_).
Let her go.--Let her go!
_Susan._ (_Aside._) Thou shalt pay presently for these fine
Suspicions. (_Susan advances and mimics the voice of the
Countess_). Who is that?
_Figaro._ ’Tis the Countess (_Aside_).--What lucky Chance
conducted you hither, Madam--You know not what Scenes are
this moment transacting.
_Susan._ Oh yes, but I do, Figaro.
_Figaro._ What! That the Count and my very virtuous Bride
are this moment in yonder Pavilion Madam!
_Susan._ (_Aside_). Very well, my Gentleman!--I know more
than thou dost.
_Figaro._ And will you not be revenged?
_Susan._ Oh yes, we always have our Revenge in our own
power.
_Figaro._ (_Aside_). What does she mean?--Perhaps what I
suspect--Why that would be a glorious Retaliation.--(_To
Susan._) There is no Means but one, Madam, of revenging
such Wrongs; that now presents itself.
_Susan._ (_Jealous_) What does the good-for-nothing Fellow
mean? (_Speaks in a tone of compliance to Figaro_). Does it
Figaro?
_Figaro._ 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; but let not
the precious moments slip!--Grant me your hand.
_Susan._ (_Unable any longer to contain herself gives him
a slap on the face_). Take it.
_Figaro._ 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, his satisfaction is so extreme, he laughs
very heartily, and keeps laughing all the while she keeps
beating him_) and that, and that, and that, and that for
thy Insolence--And that for thy Jealousy--And that for thy
Infidelity.
(_Susan out of breath, Figaro still laughing._)
_Figaro._ Oh happy Figaro--Take thy Revenge, my dear, kind,
good Angel; Never did Man or Martyr suffer with such Extacy!
_Susan._ Don’t tell me of your Extacy! How durst you, you
good for nothing, base, false-hearted Man, make love to me,
supposing me the Countess.
_Figaro._ I must bring myself off, (_aside_)--Dost think I
could mistake the music of my Susan’s Voice?
_Susan._ What, you pretend you knew me then?
_Figaro._ Pretend! Canst thou doubt it?
_Susan._ And this was a Trick upon me!--But I’ll be
revenged.
_Figaro._ Talk not of Revenge, my Love, but tell me what
blest Angel sent thee hither, and how thou camest by this
Disguise, which so fully proves thy Innocence!
{{_Susan._ “I could find in my Heart not to tell thee; but
know, to thy Confusion, it is my Lady’s; and that, coming
to catch one Fox, we have entrapped two!
_Figaro._ “But who has taken the other?
_Susan._ “His Wife.
_Figaro._ “His Wife!--Go and hang thyself, Figaro--Go and
hang thyself, for wanting the Wit to divine this Plot!--And
has all this intriguing been about his Wife?
_Susan._ “_Yes, about his Wife._
_Figaro._ (_a little suspicious_) “But who did the Page
kiss?
_Susan._ “The Count.
_Figaro._ “The Count! Ha! ha! ha! that is excellent,
(_Resuming his gravity_) But who did the Count kiss?
_Susan._ “The Countess.
_Figaro._ “Ay, but who did he kiss this Morning----behind
the great Chair?
_Susan._ (_Gravely_) “Nobody.
_Figaro._ “Art thou--quite sure?”}}
_Susan._ (_Holding out her Hand_) Dost thou want another
Proof?
_Figaro._ Ah! Thine are but proofs of Love--That of the
Count, indeed, was not so gentle.
_Enter_ COUNT _behind_.
_Count._ ’St--’st! Susan!--Susan!
_Figaro._ (_Aside to Susan_) A lucky thought strikes me;
prithee second me, Susan, (_Speaks in a feigned Voice,
falls on his Knees and kisses Susan’s Hand_)--Ah Madam! Let
us not longer converse of Love, but enjoy it’s Treasures.
_Count._ What’s here! A Man on his Knees to the
Countess!--(_Feels for his Sword, they keep silently
laughing_) And I unarm’d!
_Figaro._ (_Acting the Petit Maitre_) Upon my honour,
Madam, I could not have supposed Timidity should make you
hesitate a moment.
_Count._ (_Furiously_) So this is our Dressing-room
Gentleman, at last! I shall know all at least,
now--(_Figaro kisses her hand again._) Oh Rage! Oh Hell!
_Susan._ How delightfully he swears.
_Figaro._ (_Figaro and Susan still inwardly laughing_)
Quickly then, Madam, let us repair the wrong which Love
this Morning suffered at the impertinent intrusion of your
Lord.
_Count._ This is not to be borne.
(_Darts between them, seizes Figaro by the
Collar, while Susan escapes into the Pavilion
on the left._)
_Figaro_ (_Pretends amazement_) My Lord!
_Count._ How! Rascal! And is it you!--Hollo--Hollo--Who
hears?
_Enter blundering in the dark, and in a great hurry, the
COURIER, who had been to Seville after the Page._
_Courier._ Here!--Here!--Here am I, my Lord! Just arrived
from Seville! But he is not there! I might as well have
sought for this Page in my pocket! Here is the Packet again.
_Count._ Stand out of the way, Rascal----Hollo!--Where are
my People? Lights! Lights!
_Courier._ What’s my Lord afraid of? Is there not Mr.
Figaro and I?
_Enter Flambeaux, Don_ GUZMAN, _Dr._ BARTHOLO, ANTONIO,
BASIL, _and Servants_.
_Count._ (_To the Servants_) Guard that Door and some of
you seize this Fellow.
_Figaro._ You command, with absolute Authority, over all
present, my Lord, except yourself.
{{_Count._ “The Villain’s impenetrable, cool Impudence is
intolerable.
_Figaro._ “We are not Soldiers, that we should kill one
another without Malice: for my part, I like to know why I
am angry.”}}
_Count._ Be pleased, Sir, to declare, before this Company,
who the--the--Woman is that just now ran into that Pavilion.
_Figaro._ Into that--(_Going to cross to the Pavilion on
the right._)
_Count._ (_Stopping him_) No, prevaricating Fiend; into
that. (_Pointing to the other._)
_Figaro._ Ah! That alters the Case.
_Count._ Answer, or--
{{_Figaro._ “The Lady that escaped into that Pavilion?
_Count._ “Ay, Demon, the Lady.”}}
_Figaro._ The Lady {{“that escaped into that Pavilion,”}}
is a young Lady to whom my Lord once paid his Addresses,
but who, happening to love me more than my Betters, has
this day yielded me the Preference.
_Count._ The Preference!--The Preference!--he does not lie
at least.----Yes, Gentlemen, what he confesses, I pledge
my Honour I just have heard from the very mouth of his
Accomplice!
_Guzman._ His Accomplice!
_Count._ Come forth, Madam! (_Enters the Pavilion._)
_Basil._ Which of these two has made a--Gentleman of the
other.
_Figaro._ Perhaps neither.
_Count._ (_In the Pavilion._) Come forth, I say, shew
yourself. (_Enter, dragging out the_ PAGE, _still speaking,
and not looking at him till he gets on a line with the rest
of the Company_.) Happily, Madam, there is no Pledge of a
Union, now so justly detested.----
_Omnes._ The Page!
_Guzman._ (_After all the rest._) The Pa-a-age!
_Count._ Again! And again! And everlastingly this damn’d,
diabolical Page. (_Page flies to the other side of the
stage._) You shall find, however, he was not alone.
_Page._ Ah, no! My lot would have been hard indeed then.
_Count._ Enter Antonio, and drag the guilty Thing before
her Judge.
_Antonio._ (_In the Pavilion._) Come, Madam, you must come
out; I must not let you go since my Lord knows you are here.
_Enter with his Daughter_, AGNES.
_Omnes._ Agnes!
_Guzman._ A-A-Agnes!
_Antonio._ Odzooks, my Lord, its a pleasant Trick, enough,
to send me in, before all these good Folks, for my Daughter.
_Count._ I’ll find her, I warrant. (_Going._)
_Doctor._ (_Stopping the Count._) Pardon me, my Lord, but
you are too angry at present; let me go.
(_Exit Doctor to the Pavilion._)
_Guzman._ This Cause is very perplex’d.
_Doctor._ (_Entering with Marcelina._) Fear nothing, Madam,
fear nothing.
_Omnes._ Marcelina!
_Figaro._ My Mother too! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
_Count._ Where then is this Daughter of Infamy thus evades
my just Fury?
_Enter_ SUSAN, _with her Fan before her face_.
Here she comes, at last; bearing her own Shame and my
Dishonour. (_Susan kneels to him, still hiding her Face._)
_Omnes._ Pardon, pardon, gracious Lord!
_Count._ No! No! No! (_They all fall on their knees._) No!
No! Were the 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._ At least I will 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. All the Company burst into a
laugh: the Count’s shame, confusion, &c._)
_Guzman._ (_Laughing stupidly_) Ha! ha! ha! ha! ’Tis the
Countess!
_Count._ (_With great humility._) And--is it you my Lady?
_Countess._ (_Inclines her body in token of Affirmation._)
_Count._ (_Returning her bow with great confusion._)
Ah!--Yes!--Yes! A generous pardon--tho’ unmerited.----
_Countess._ Were you in my place, you would exclaim, No!
No! No! But I grant it without a single Stipulation.
_Susan._ And I.
_Figaro._ And I.--There are Echoes here.
_Count._ (_Surprised_) I perceive--I perceive----I have
been rightly served.
_Countess._ Here, Susan, here is the Purse and Ring, which
my Lord gave thee. He will remember thy sweet delicate
Fingers, so long and so small.
_Susan._ Thank your Lordship--Here Figaro.
(_Gives him the Purse._
_Figaro._ It was devilish hard to get at--
_Count._ (_To Susan_) And the Letter you wrote--
_Susan._ Was dictated by my Lady.
_Count._ (_Smiling good naturedly._) Well, well! I am an
Answer in her Debt.
_Figaro._ Thus every Man shall have his own.
_Bounce._ And shall we throw the Stocking?
_Countess._ There is the Garter.
(_Throws down the Riband Hannibal had stolen in
the Morning; Bounce is going to stoop for it,
and the Page pushes him back._)
_Page._ This is my Right, and if any one dare dispute it
with me----
_Count._ Indeed! Mr. Officer--So bold a Champion
already!--Pray how did your Valour like the Box on the Ear
I gave you just now?
_Page._ (_With his Hand to his Sword_) Me! My Colonel?
_Figaro._ Which I kindly received.
_Count._ Thou!
_Figaro._ I--And thus do the Great distribute Justice.
_Count._ (_laughing_) Well, Mr. President, (_Don Guzman
instantly calls up all his Wisdom on finding himself
addressed_) what do you think of all these things?
_Guzman._ Thi-ink, my Lord? (_Considers_) I--I think
that--I do-o-on’t know what to think.
_Figaro._ I think, a few such Days as this would form an
excellent Ambassador--But lately I was a poor, deserted,
solitary Being, in this wide World, and now I have Gold,
Relations, and a handsome Wife----
_Doctor._ And Friends will flock in abundance.
_Figaro._ Do you think so?
_Doctor._ Oh I know so.
_Figaro._ Well, let them, they shall be welcome to all I
have--My Wife and my Wealth excepted.
_Susan._
Our Errors past, and all our Follies done,
Oh! That ’twere possible you might be won
To pardon Faults, and Misdemeanors smother,
With the same ease we pardon One-another!
So should we rest, To-night, devoid of Sorrow,
And hope to meet you, joyously, To-morrow.
THE END.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
A few obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors
have been corrected after careful comparison with other
occurrences within the text and consultation of external
sources.
Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in
the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been
retained.
Pg 10: Speaker name ‘Marcelino’ replaced by ‘Marcelina’.
Pg 17: ‘Gardiner’s daughter’ replaced by ‘Gardener’s daughter’.
Pg 17: ‘my drunken Gardiner’ replaced by ‘my drunken Gardener’.
Pg 18: ‘wish hm so much’ replaced by ‘wish him so much’.
Pg 21: ‘young Hanibal the’ replaced by ‘young Hannibal the’.
Pg 25: ‘COUNTESS’s Bed-Chmber’ replaced by
‘COUNTESS’s Bed-Chamber’.
Pg 27: ‘by the Pavillion’ replaced by ‘by the Pavilion’.
Pg 29: ‘will not, Marcellina’ replaced by ‘will not, Marcelina’.
Pg 43: ‘you malicicious little’ replaced by
‘you malicious little’.
Pg 45: ‘the Gardiner, with’ replaced by ‘the Gardener, with’.
Pg 48: ‘and eadeavours to’ replaced by ‘and endeavours to’.
Pg 50: Speaker name ‘Antanio’ replaced by ‘Antonio’.
Pg 64: ‘Angelica-Mustacio’ replaced by ‘Angelica-Mustachio’.
Pg 64: ‘Gentleman who are’ replaced by ‘Gentlemen who are’.
Pg 66: ‘Again, the the word’ replaced by ‘Again, the word’.
Pg 76: ‘honest ple’ replaced by ‘honest people’.
Pg 83: ‘Girl, ealed with’ replaced by ‘Girl, sealed with’.
Pg 90: Missing speaker name ‘Agnes’ inserted.
Pg 92: ‘those who who have’ replaced by ‘those who have’.