Bartolo--Has been writing to him? My dear friend, I implore you, do speak low! Come, let's sit down, let's have a friendly chat. You have discovered, you say, that Rosina--
Count [angrily]--Certainly. Basilio, anxious about this correspondence on your account, asked me to show you her letter; but the way you take things--
Bartolo--Good Lord! I take them well enough. But can't you possibly speak a little lower?
Count--You told me you were deaf in one ear.
Bartolo--I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, if I've been surly and suspicious, Signor Alonzo: I'm surrounded with spies--and then your figure, your age, your whole air--I beg your pardon. Well? Have you the letter?
Count--I'm glad you're barely civil at last, sir. But are you quite sure no one can overhear us?
Bartolo--Not a soul. My servants are all tired out. Señorita Rosina has shut herself up in a rage! The very devil's to pay in this house. Still I'll go and make sure. [He goes to peep into Rosina's room.]
Count [aside]--Well, I've caught myself now in my own trap. Now what shall I do about the letter? If I were to run off?--but then I might just as well not have come. Shall I show it to him? If I could only warn Rosina beforehand! To show it would be a master-stroke.
Bartolo [returning on tiptoe]--She's sitting by the window with her back to the door, and re-reading a cousin's letter which I opened. Now, now--let me see hers.
Count [handing him Rosina's letter]--Here it is. [Aside.] She's re-reading my letter.