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?