one say, after hearing this "Canzonetta sull' aria," that it is unnatural to melodize conversation? With what gracious tact the orchestra gives time to Susanna to set down the words of her mistress! How perfect is the musical reproduction of inquiry and repetition when a phrase escapes the memory of the writer! [Musical excerpt--Susanna: "sotto i pini?" Conte: "Sotto i pini del boschetto."] The letter is written, read over phrase by phrase, and sealed with a pin which the Count is to return as proof that he has received the note. The wedding festivities begin with a presentation of flowers to the Countess by the village maidens, among whom in disguise is the rogue Cherubino--so fair in hat and gown that the Countess singles him out of the throng to present his nosegay in person. Antonio, who had suspected that he was still about the palace, exposes him to the Count, who threatens the most rigorous punishment, but is obliged to grant Barberina's petition that he give his consent to her marriage to the page. Had he not often told her to ask him what she pleased, when kissing her in secret? Under the circumstances he can only grant the little maid's wish. During the dance which follows (it is a Spanish fandango which seems to have been popular in Vienna at the time, for Gluck had already made use of the same melody in his ballet "Don Juan"), Susanna kneels before the Count to have him place the wreath (or veil) upon her head, and slyly slips the "Canzonetta sull' aria" into his hands. He pricks his finger with the pin, drops it, but, on reading the postscript, picks it up, so that he may return it to the writer as a sign of understanding. In the evening Barberina, who has been commissioned to carry the pin to her cousin Susanna, loses it again, and her lamentation "L'ho perdita," with its childish sobs while hunting it, is one of the little gems of the opera. From her Figaro learns that the letter which he had seen the Count read during the dance was from Susanna, and becomes furiously jealous. In an air (which has already been described), he rails against man's credulity and woman's faithlessness. The time is come to unmask the Count. The Countess and Susanna have exchanged dresses, and now come into the garden. Left alone, Susanna gives voice to her longing and love (for Figaro, though the situation makes it seem to be for the Count) in the air which has won great favor in the concert-room: "Deh vieni non tardar." Here some of Otto Jahn's words are again appropriate:--