“A-h-h-h,” shrieked the doctor, his head coming round the human screen, and noticing the whispers. He evaded the quivering razor and rushed at the music-people, one of whom, to wit the master, looked the picture of innocent consternation; while the other was quite astonished. Cried Figaro:-- “When thus a man doth rage and rave, The thing to do ’s his head to shave.” “I think I’d better go,” said the music-master, tremblingly. “I think you had,” said Figaro. Alas! Why, before he went, did he not tell Rosina of his giving her letter to the doctor. Alas! Why did this necessity escape the attention of the all-seeing Figaro? They both departed--the barber flippantly, the professor profoundly. And neither thought of the forgetfulness up to the time when they were both fixing a ladder against the locked up balcony. Meanwhile, little Rosina had been converted into a little tigress. For not an hour had the count and barber been gone, when Don Basilio had persuaded himself _his_ line of profitable conduct was to come creeping back after a little more money. This time he knew not a purse full, for the doctor was old and his purse low. He came in with his low bow. “Noble doctor, do you know who this Alonzo was?” “No, no; sent by the count, perhaps.” “It was the count himself. Some scheme is sure afoot.” “Good; and I’ll scheme too. Now, haste, Basilio, to the notary, and bid him come. This very night I’ll marry her.” “But, noble doctor; fetch the notary! And it rains in torrents. Again, most noble doctor, the notary is engaged; this very night the barber Figaro gives his niece in marriage.” “The barber Figaro _has_ no niece! Another plot--another plot. Now, go, and call the notary! Go--go--go! Here, take the street door key, and go--go--go!” Then he cried out for Rosina; and that young beauty appearing, he very quickly turned her into a young tigress. “A pretty pitfall, Senorita!” “Indeed!” “I’ve some news from your _new_ lover.” “Lover, indeed!” “Indeed! most nobly you’ve bestowed your young affections, truly. Why, with another he makes sport of you.” “He dares!” “(I’m right.) Yes, Senorita; as you say, ‘he dares.’ Behold this letter; it formed for them a comedy.” “My very note.” “(A pretty plot.) Why, this Alonzo and the barber are but tools, whose master is Count Almaviva.” “Oh, Lindoro.” (“Lindoro, is it!”) “Vengeance! Did you not say you’d marry me? You did; then let us married be. And now, at once (stamp of the foot), at once, at once! At midnight he’ll be here, and with him, Senor, barber Figaro. It all was settled I should fly and marry him.” “Ah! I run to bar the door.” “‘Tis useless, Senor, you’d better bar the window.” “The window!” “Yes--yes--they have the key!” “The key! I’ll not stir from the spot. Yet, should they come with arms! I’d better call the watch, and call them thieves. Go, shut yourself within your room, and double lock the door!”