Marcelina. No, Mr. President, he would neither marry me, nor pay his debts.
Guzman. D-d—do you think I d-d-d-don’t co-o-omprehend you?
Doctor. And are you, Mr. President, to judge this Cause?
Guzman. T-t-t-to be sure—Wha-at else did I purchase my Place for thi-ink you, (Laughs stupidly at the supposed folly of the Question) And where is the De-fe-e-endant?
Enter FIGARO.
Figaro. Here, at your service.
Doctor. Yes, that’s the Knave.
Figaro. Perhaps I interrupt you.
Guzman. “Ha-ave not I see-een you before, young Man?