_Doctor._ “Let him speak, Figaro, let him speak. _Guzman._ “Oh f-f-fie!--What f-f-friends!-- _Figaro._ “I disclaim such friendship. _Basil._ “And I----Error in Judgment, Mr. President. _Figaro._ “He!--A Street-corner Ballad-Bawler! _Basil._ “As good, at least, as a Barber-Surgeon! _Figaro._ “Who hashes up a dinner out of Horse-hair and Catgut! _Basil._ “Who has hungrily devoured Razors and Hones, and fed half his life upon Froth! (_Imitates beating up a Lather._) _Figaro._ “The high Priest of Pimps! _Basil._ “The vile Drudge of Intrigue! _Figaro._ “Execrated by those he serves! _Basil._ “Gulled by his own Cunning! _Figaro._ “So great a Fool, Knavery itself cannot make him thrive! _Basil._ “So stupid, he never yet could invent a probable Lie! _Doctor._ } “Hold, hold. _Guzman._ } _Figaro._ “A Pedantic! _Basil._ “Pert! _Figaro._ “Preposterous! _Basil._ “Pragmatical! _Figaro._ “Braying! _Basil._ “Lop-eared! _Figaro._ “Ass! _Count._ “How now!--Is this all the Respect you shew?-- _Basil._ “You hear, my Lord, how he insults me! When, it is well known, there is not, in all Andalusia, a more eminent!---- _Figaro._ “Empty! _Basil._ “Able! _Figaro._ “Abject! _Basil._ “Musician! _Figaro._ “Miscreant! _Basil._ “Is this to be borne? _Figaro._ “Whose countenance prophecies of Pillories, Scaffolds, and the stretching of Hemp; and whose whole appearance is a continual Memento of public Calamity, Plague, Pestilence, and Famine;--A Misericordia, Sackcloth-and-ashes Knave;--A Scape Goat, that looks like a Jew in the yellow Jaundice. (_Doctor Bartholo and Don Guzman prevent Basil from falling upon Figaro._) _Count._ “Do you think this proper, Mr. Figaro? _Figaro._ “Why not, my Lord?--Let him listen to Truth, since he is too Poor to pay Parasites and Liars. _Count._ “Silence, Sir!--Let us hear, Mr. Basil, what you have to say. _Basil._ “(_Composing himself_) I demand the hand of Marcelina, my Lord, who promised to marry me. _Marcelina._ “On what condition was this promise made? _Basil._ “That I should adopt your lost Son, if ever you should be happy enough to find him. _Marcelina._ “Well. _Doctor._ “He is found. _Basil._ “Where is he? _Doctor._ “Here he stands. (_Pointing to Figaro_). _Guzman._ “The-e-e-ere he stands. _Basil._ “He!--Oh, my curst Stars! _Guzman._ “Do you re-e-nounce your pre-e-tentions to his de-e-ear Mother? _Basil._ “Renounce!--As I would renounce the Devil and all his Works. _Figaro._ “What! Renounce your best Friend?--But that’s like your Rogue’s tricks. _Basil._ “I will not live under the same roof with him--I would rather even quit the service of my Lord. _Figaro._ “Don’t be uneasy, I shan’t trouble you long--Restored to my Parents, and married to my Susan, I shall retire and live in Peace. _Count._ “(_Aside_) And I shall retire to meet my Mistress. _Guzman._ “So every body is sa-a-tisfied.”}} _Count._ Let the marriage Contracts be prepared, and I will sign them.