It was the duty of Figaro to hear—“chink—chink”—he had been paid for it. But it was not the duty of Rosina to listen; so she had not heard.
“Wedding cake, Senorita!”
“Yes—yours; your guardian intends to marry you.”
“La, la.”
“On the faith of a barber—he and the music-master are at this moment arranging the matter.”
“Indeed; but Figaro, who was it that I saw you talking with a few hours since in the streets?”
“My cousin—a fine fellow—with the best of heads and hearts. He has come here to study, and make his fortune.”
“Fortune—and he’ll make it, Figaro?”
“He has one defect—he’s over head and ears in love!”