Act 4

SCENE I.

BARTHOLO, AND DON BAZILE WITH A DARK LANTHORN.

BARTHOLO [the stage is dark.]

You say you do not know him Bazile? can that be possible?

Bazile.

You may repeat the Question an hundred Times if you please; but I’m sure I can give you no other Answer, if he gave you Rosina’s Letter he is doubtless one of the Count’s Cabal, were I to judge from the magnificence of his Present, I should suspect it was the Count himself.

Bartholo.

That’s true, how came you to accept his present?

Bazile.

You seem’d to consent, I was no ways in the Secret, and in difficult Cases, a Purse of Gold is to me an unanswerable Argument; besides the Proverb says, that which is good to take is good to—

Bartholo.

I understand you, is good to—

Bazile.

To keep.

Bartholo.

How, how!—

Bazile.

Oh, I have improv’d many old Proverbs, by the most trifling Alteration, but to Business; what have you resolv’d on?

Bartholo.

In my Place, wou’d not you try every effort to possess her?

Bazile.

No, in truth, I wou’d not, for some wou’d be dangerous, and after all mere Possession is a small Benefit; ’tis enjoyment which in my Opinion, yields Pleasure, and to marry a Woman in your Case with out being sure of her Affections would be exposing yourself to—

Bartholo.

You wou’d fear being a—

Bazile.

Why really from the Multitudes there have been this year, it must be a prevalent Fashion: I vow I wou’d not force her Inclinations.

Bartholo.

I am your most obedient, but I will sooner hazard hanging for her than die for want of attempting her.

Bazile.

Oh, if your Life is at Stake, marry her, Doctor, marry her.

Bartholo.

And so I will this very Night.

Bazile.

Remember when you mention them to your Ward; to paint them as black as Hell.

Bartholo.

I’ll take your advice.

Bazile.

Calumny Doctor, Calumny is our Sheet Anchor.

Bartholo.

Here’s Rosina’s Letter, which Alonzo gave me, and he without Intention so to do, shew’d me the Use I shou’d make of it.

Bazile.

Adieu, we will all be here in a Quarter of an Hour—

Bartholo.

Why not sooner!

Bazile.

It’s impossible, our Notary is engaged.

Bartholo.

Every other Business ought to give Way when a Marriage is in the Cafe.

Bazile.

But it seems the Barber Figaro’s Niece is to be married to Night.

Bartholo.

Figaro’s Niece! he has no Niece that I know of.

Bazile.

That’s what the Lawyer told me.

Bartholo.

That Knave is in the Plot: and I would as soon trust the Devil!

Bazile.

And cou’d you think?

Bartholo.

Aye, any Thing! to say the Truth my Friend these People alarm me much; go back to the Lawyer and bring him back with you, that all Dispatch be used to settle every thing that can set me at Ease.

Bazile.

It rains as if Heaven and Earth wou’d come together, but nothing shall prevent my serving you?—where are you going?

Bartholo.

To conduct you to the Door; for Figaro has laid up all my Servants, I am quite alone here.

Bazile.

Give yourself no Trouble, I have my Lanthorn.

Bartholo.

Take my Cloak, Bazile, I’ll wait your return, and keep Watch, and let who will knock, my Doors this Night shall not be open’d to any Body, but to you and the Lawyer.

Bazile.

That precaution will secure every Thing.

SCENE II.

ROSINA, ALONE, COMING OUT OF THE CHAMBER.

Sure I heard People speak, ’tis past Midnight, and Lindor does not come; the Storm and darkness of the Night favours his Enterprize: ah, Lindor, if you had deceived me—what noise is that? oh Heaven’s! ’tis my Guardian, I’ll go in.

SCENE III.

Bartholo.

Oh Rosina! as you are not yet retir’d to your Chamber—

Rosina.

I am going.

Bartholo.

The Storm is so violent you cou’d not rest, and I have something of the utmost Consequence to inform you of.

Rosina.

What wou’d you have, Sir? is not the Day of sufficient Length for your plaguing me?

Bartholo.

I beg Rosina, you will hearken to me.

Rosina.

I will hear you To-morrow.

Bartholo.

One Moment only I entreat you.

Rosina [aside. 

If he shou’d come now.

Bartholo, [shewing her her Letter. 

Do you know this Letter?

Rosina [looking at it. 

Oh Heavens!

Bartholo.

I do not mean to load you with Reproaches, Rosina, at your Age Error is excusable, I am your Friend: pray attend to me.

Rosina.

I can’t support it.

Bartholo.

This Letter which you wrote to Count Almaviva,

Rosina [amaz’d.

To Count Almaviva?

Bartholo.

Judge what a Wretch he is, no sooner does he get Possession of it, than he makes use of it as a Trophy of his Victory, and to acquire another makes an immediate Sacrifice of it to another Woman, from whom I have it.

Rosina.

The Count Almaviva!

Bartholo.

You’ll hardly credit so horrid a Piece of Treachery; Inexperience Rosina renders your Sex too confident and credulous, but you see the Snare that was laid for you, the Woman told me all, perhaps with an Intention to free herself from so dangerous a Rival; I tremble to think how deep the Plot was laid, between this Count Almaviva, Figaro and Alonzo, who pretended to be Pupil of Don Bazile, but is an Agent of the Count, to draw you into an Abyss of Ruin from which it wou’d have been impossible to save you.

Rosina, [overcome. 

What Horror!—Cou’d Lindor, cou’d that young Man!

Bartholo, [aside. 

Ah! It’s Lindor!

Rosina.

Was it then for Count Almaviva? For another!

Bartholo.

That is what she told me, when she gave me your Letter.

Rosina.

Oh! what an Insult! But he shall be punish’d—You wish’d to marry me, Sir?

Bartholo.

My dear Rosina, you know the Warmth of my Sentiments for you.

Rosina.

If you can still have a Regard for me, I will be your’s.

Bartholo.

I have still the same, and to convince you of it, the Lawyer will be here to Night.

Rosina.

Alas! You don’t know all—Oh! Heavens! Sure I am sufficiently humbled; this very Night he is to come, and to be certain of Admittance he has possess’d himself of the Key of this Jealousie.

Bartholo, [looking at his Bunch of Keys. 

Oh! the Robbers!—My dear Child, I’ll not leave you alone, no, not a single Instant.

Rosina.

But if they shou’d come arm’d.

Bartholo.

Why that is possible, and in that Case they wou’d escape my Vengeance; go then up to Marcelina’s Room, and double lock the Door. I’ll go for Assistance, and by watching them in from the Street be sure to take them up for House-breakers; and by that Means we shall at once be revenged and secured from their Attempts. Don’t afflict yourself, my Love shall make you ample amends. 

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Rosina.

Oh! Do but forget my Errors. [aside.] Alas! his Love will make me ample amends to be sure.—Wretched Rosina! What shall I do? [bursting into Tears] Lindor is just coming; I will stay, and if I can dissemble with him for a few moments, till by attentive Contemplation of his Guilt, I learn to hate and despise those Charms which won my Soul. Who could have thought it? So bewitching an Air! So noble a Figure! A Voice so tender! Every Thing combin’d to form a vile Seducer!—Alas! alas!—Oh! Heavens! They are opening the Jealousie. [runs out.

SCENE V.

THE COUNT AND FIGARO, WRAP’D UP IN A GREAT CLOAK, APPEAR AT THE WINDOW.

Figaro [speaks from without. 

Somebody left the Room. Shall I go in?

Count [from without. 

Was it a Man?

Figaro.

No.

Count.

It certainly was Rosina you have put to Flight by your tremendous Appearance.

Figaro, [leaping into the Chamber. 

By my Faith I believe it. No Matter, since we have at last got here in Spight of Thunder and Lightning, the Rain, and what’s worse than all, Doctor Bartholo.

Count, [wrap’d up in a long Cloak. 

Lend me your Hand. [Jumps in] The Victory’s ours.

Figaro [flings off his Cloak. 

I am wet to the Skin—This is fine Weather for Fortune-hunting—How do you like it, my Lord?

Count.

’Tis delightful to a Lover.

Figaro.

Yes, but to a Confident—and to mend all if we should be caught here?

Count.

Am not I with you, my Fears arise from another Cause, and that is, how shall we persuade her to quit her Guardian’s House immediately?

Figaro.

Whilst you have on your Side for Advocates three of the most powerful Passions in Women, you need not fear, and you are certain of Love, Hate, and fear operating in your Favour—

Count [seeking in the dark. 

How shall we break it so suddenly to her? that the Lawyer is ready at your House to perfect the Marriage Settlements? She will think me very presumptuous.

Figaro.

If she taxes you with Presumption, call her cruel; Women like mightily to be called cruel, and above all other Arguments, if her Love proves such as you wish, you will tell her who you are; she then can have no further Doubts of your Sincerity.

SCENE VI.

COUNT, ROSINA, FIGARO LIGHTS A CANDLE.

Count.

Here comes my lovely Rosina!

Rosina, [in a compos’d Tone of Voice. 

I began, Sir, to apprehend you wou’d not come.

Count.

Charming Anxiety! It is not just I should avail myself of Circumstances to offer you to share my indifferent Lot; but whatever Refuge you may chuse, I swear upon my Honour—

Rosina.

If, Sir, I had not intended the Gift of my Hand to follow immediately that of my Heart, you had not now had Admission here; I hope Necessity will plead with you my Excuse for this improper Interview.

Count.

And can you, Rosina, be the Companion of a Wretch, without Friends, Family, or Fortune?

Rosina.

What’s Family, or Fortune! A Game of Chance, advantages the most unworthy may enjoy, and the most virtuous want, cou’d you convince me that your Heart is pure, sincere, and your Intentions honourable—

Count [throwing himself at her Feet. 

Ah, Rosina! by all that’s sacred I adore you!

Rosina [with Disdain. 

Stop Wretch, you dare profane—you adore me; away! this Instant does your power end; I waited for that Word to hate you, but ’ere I leave you to the Stings of your Conscience ever attendant on a treacherous Breast. [Weeps.] know that I loved you, that all my hopes of Happiness were formed in Schemes of sharing with thee thy Poverty and Want—yes, Lindor, with Regret I would have quitted all to follow thee; but the ungenerous Use to which you put each Token of my Favour, with the Baseness of your Employer Count Almaviva, to whom you meant to sell me, have thrown into my Hands this Testimony of my Folly—You know this Letter—

Count [hastily. 

Which your Guardian gave—

Rosina [gravely. 

I owe him that Obligation.

Count.

Ye Gods, how fortunate! he received it from me—Yesterday when I found myself in the greatest Perplexity how to obtain the Sight of you, I had no Means left but to make a Sacrifice of the Letter to gain his Confidence, and had no Opportunity to inform you of it afterwards, and does Rosina really love me!

Figaro.

Well, my Lord, you sought a distinterested Love, and—

Rosina. 

My Lord! What does he say?

Count [throws off his Cloak and shows a magnificent Dress. 

Most beloved of Women, I will no longer impose upon you; the happy Man you see at your Feet is not Lindor, but the Count Almaviva, who long has sought an Opportunity to tell you his heart is wholly yours—

Rosina [falling in the Count’s Arms. 

Ah! me!

Count [affrighted. 

Figaro!

Figaro.

Don’t be alarm’d, my Lord, the gentle Emotions of Joy are not dangerous—See there she comes to herself, by my Soul a gentle Self it is too.

Rosina.

Oh Lindor! Oh, Sir, my Guilt o’ercomes me, I had consented this very Night to marry my Guardian.

Count.

You, Rosina!

Rosina.

Oh think only on the punishment which must have followed, to have pass’d my Life in detesting you—Ah Lindor! what greater Torment can be imagin’d than that of hating, when convinced we were made to love.

• DUET BETWEEN ROSINA AND THE COUNT.*

*This Duet has been added in the Translation there being none in the Original.

I.

Rosina.

’Twas Lindor when in low Degree,

To whom my trembling Vows I gave.

Count.

Behold him gentle Maid in me,

His Share let Almaviva have.

II.

Rosina.

And did’st thou cast thy Rank aside,

For me the Glare of Pomp resign?

Count.

Say, what is Grandeur’s utmost Pride,

While Happiness and Love are mine?

III.

Rosina.

’Tis true, sweet Peace had blest the State,

With Lindor I had hop’d to share.

Count.

Am I less lov’d because more great?

The favour’d Name again I’ll bear.

IV.

Rosina.

Not so—the Love with Fear confest,

I now will glory to declare,

Lindor gain’d Entrance to my Breast,

But Almaviva governs there.

V.

Both.

In mutual Bliss our Days shall pass,

And thou my Love be all to me,

And as old Time shall shake his Glass,

Each Sand shall bring fresh Ecstacy.

Figaro [looking out of the Window.] 

My Lord, our Retreat is cut off, the Ladder is remov’d—

Count.

Removed!

Rosina.

It is my Fault, ’tis the Doctor: you see the fruit of my Credulity, he deceiv’d me, I have discover’d all; he knew you were to come this Night, and is gone to get Assistance.

Figaro [looks again. 

My Lord, they are opening the Door.

Rosina [in a Fright runs into the Count’s Arms. 

Ah! Lindor!

Count [in a resolute tone of Voice. 

Certain of your Affections Rosina, I fear nothing; you shall be my Wife, and I will then most amply punish the wicked old Villain, who—

Rosina.

No! no! have Pity on him—my Heart is too full of Joy to admit either Hatred or Revenge.

SCENE VII.

ENTER DON BAZILE, AND A LAWYER.

Figaro.

Your Notary, my Lord.

Count.

And our friend Bazile with him.

Bazile.

What do I see!

Figaro.

By what chance, my dear Friend?

Bazile.

What Accident, Gentlemen!

Notary.

Are these the Parties who desire to be join’d by the holy Bonds of Matrimony?

Count.

Yes, Sir, you were this Evening to have compleated the Contract between Signora Rosina and me at Figaro’s, but for Reasons, which you shall know before we part, we have preferr’d this House—have you the Contract?

Notary.

I then have the honour of speaking to his Excellency Count Almaviva—

Figaro.

Precisely—

Bazile [aside.

If it was for this purpose he gave me the Master-key—

Notary.

We must be careful to make no Mistakes, for I have here two Marriage Contracts—this is yours with Signora Rosina, and this other is Doctor Bartholo’s with Signora Rosina too, perhaps the Ladies are Sisters, who bear the same Name.

Count.

Let us sign ours, Don Bazile will do me the Favour to be a Witness.

Bazile.

But will your Excellency—I don’t rightly understand.

Count.

My Friend Bazile, you are amazed at every Thing, and feel Difficulties where there are none?

Bazile.

My Lord, but if the Doctor—

Count [throws him a Purse. 

Don’t play the Fool, sign directly—

Bazile.

Ah! Ah!

Figaro.

Where is the Difficulty? You know how to write your Name.

Bazile, [weighing the Purse in his Hand. 

Well, I’ll say no more about it; but when once I have given my Word weighty Arguments are necessary. 

[He signs.]

SCENE VIII.

ENTER BARTHOLO, THE ALCADE, ALGOUASILS’ SERVANTS.

Bartholo, [perceiving Rosina give her Hand to the Count, which he kisses. 

Rosina! amidst these Villains, stop every Soul of them [seizes the Notary by the Collar] I’ll secure this Rascal.

Notary.

I am your Notary.

Bazile.

Are you raving?—It is your Notary.

Bartholo.

Ah! Don Bazile! How came you here?

Bazile.

Nay, rather, how came you here?

Alcade, [pointing to Figaro. 

Stay a Moment; I know this Fellow. How came you, Sir, in this House at such an unseasonable Hour?

Figaro.

Unseasonable an Hour! sure it is as nigh Morning as Night; besides, I am one of the Attendants of his Excellency the Count Almaviva.

Bartholo.

Count Almaviva!

Alcade.

These are no Robbers.

Bartholo.

To conclude—Every where else, my Lord, I have the Honour to be your very humble Servant; but you must be sensible, on this Occasion, superior Rank is of no Effect: I therefore desire you will get out of my House immediately.

Count.

Yes, I must confess my Rank has no particular Privilege in this House; but the Preference which Rosina has just now been so kind as to testify for me before these Gentlemen—

Bartholo.

What is that he says, Rosina?

Rosina.

Nothing but the Truth;—Why are you so amaz’d? Was I not this Night to be reveng’d of a Deceiver?—And so I am.

Bazile.

I think I was in the Right, Doctor, when I told you it was certainly the Count himself.

Bartholo.

What avails all this?—A strange Marriage indeed, without Witnesses.

Notary.

The Marriage was celebrated in due Form—These Gentlemen were so kind as to assist.

Bartholo.

How!—Bazile, did you sign the Contract?

Bazile.

What cou’d I do?—The Count’s Pockets are full of irresistable Arguments.

Bartholo.

I defy him and his Arguments, I’ll assert my Authority as her Guardian.

Count.

You have lost it by abusing it.

Bartholo.

Besides, she is under Age.

Figaro.

The Lady has removed every Obstacle, by granting herself an unlimited Licence—

Bartholo.

Who spoke to thee, thou saucy Knave?

Count.

The Lady is beautiful and noble, I am young, rich, and of Quality; she is my Wife, that’s a Title which is no Disgrace to either, and which I believe no one will dispute with me.

Bartholo.

Nothing shall persuade me to give up my Right.

Count.

She is no longer in your Power. To the Protection of the Laws I confide her, and this Gentleman, [points to the Alcade.] who you brought here yourself, will certainly protect her against any Violence you may offer. The upright Magistrate is the Defender of the helpless and oppress’d.

Alcade.

His useless Opposition to his Ward’s proper and suitable Marriage, shews plainly the Dislike he has to letting the Accounts of his Guardianship be supervised.

Count.

Oh! If he consents to my Marriage, I’ll remove any Fears of that Kind, by giving him a Receipt in full.

Figaro.

Pray, my Lord, don’t let the Hundred Piasters I owe him slip your Memory.

Bartholo.

What a Nest of Hornets have I got my Head into!

Bazile.

What a Nest of Hornets! Come, Doctor, as you cannot have the Lady, her Money is worth something—You are far from having lost all.

Bartholo.

Let me alone, Bazile—You think of nothing but Money. I care little about the Fortune; I will keep it: but I assure you ’tis not from interested Views that I determine—[Signs.

Figaro, [laughing. 

Ah! Ah! Ah! My Lord they are all of a Kidney.

Notary.

But, Gentlemen, I cannot rightly understand—Are there not two Ladies of the same Name?

Figaro.

No, Sir, only one.

Bartholo, [in Despair. 

I took away the Ladder that the Marriage might be completed. Here, alas! I have ruin’d myself by Want of Care.

Figaro.

Rather by Want of Sense, Doctor; but the Truth is, when Love and Youth combine to deceive an old Man, all his Efforts to prevent it may well be call’d Useless Precautions.

FINISH.