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——