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!