Page. My Lord certainly has not ceded away the right to pardon.
Susan. And if he had, that would certainly be the first he would secretly endeavour to reclaim. (Looking significantly at the Count and Figaro, by turns.)
Count. (Understanding her) No doubt: no doubt.
Page. My conduct, my Lord, may have been indiscreet, but I can assure your Lordship, that never the least word shall pass my lips——
Count. (Interrupting him) Enough, enough—Since every body begs for him, I must grant—I shall moreover give him a Company in my Regiment.
Omnes. Thanks noble Count.
Count. But on condition that he depart immediately for Catalonia to join the Corps.
Omnes. Oh my Lord?
Figaro. To-morrow my Lord.
Count. To day! It shall be so. (To the Page) Take leave of your Godmother, and beg her protection.