The Follies of a Day; or, The Marriage of Figaro / A comedy, as it is now performing at the Theatre-Royal, Covent-Garden. From the French of M. de Beaumarchais

by Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais

Count. And have still, Madam.

Figaro. Join with me, my friends.

Omnes. My Lord.

Susan. Why should your Lordship refuse Eulogiums which you merit so well?

Count. Oh the Traitress. (Aside) Well, well,—I consent.

Figaro. Look at her, my Lord; never could a more beauteous Bride better prove the greatness of the sacrifice you have made.

Susan. Oh do not speak of my Beauty, but of his Lordship’s Virtues.

Count. My Virtues!—Yes, yes,—I see they understand each other. (Aside) Who can tell me where is Marcelina?

Agnes. I met her, my Lord, just now, in the close walk by the park wall, along with Doctor Bartholo. She seemed in a passion, and the Doctor tried to pacify her. I heard her mention my Cousin Figaro’s name.

Count. (Aside) No Cousin yet, my dear; and perhaps never may be.