Agnes. (Pointing to the Page) Have you forgiven what happened yesterday, my Lord?
Count. (Afraid lest the Countess should hear, and chucking Agnes under the chin) Hush!
Figaro. (To the Page) What’s the matter, young Hannibal the brave? What makes you so silent?
Susan. He is sorrowful because my Lord is going to send him from the castle.
Omnes. Oh pray, my Lord!
Countess. Let me beg you will forgive him.
Count. He does not deserve to be forgiven.
Countess. Consider, he is so young.
Count. (Half aside) Not so young, perhaps, as you suppose.