_Figaro._ Thanks, gracious Lord. _Bounce._ And I will go and prepare the Fireworks in the Garden, near the Pavilion. _Count._ (_Returning_) Who, pray Sir, gave you those Orders?--The Countess is too much indisposed to come out; let them, therefore, be played off in front of the Castle, facing her Windows--(_Aside_)--The Rascal was going to set fire to my Place of Rendezvous! (_Exeunt_). _Manent_ FIGARO _and_ MARCELINA. _Figaro._ How attentive he is to his Wife. _Marcelina._ {{“It is necessary”}}--My dear Figaro, {{“I should undeceive thee respecting my former false accusations of Susan--Basil has always told me she obstinately refused to listen to the Count’s Overtures, and”}} I am both sorry and ashamed to have excited thy Jealousy. _Figaro._ Oh, be under no apprehensions, my dear Mother; Jealousy is the foolish Child of Pride, the Disease of a Madman--My Philosophy is invulnerable to its poisonous Arrows. (_Figaro turns and sees Agnes just behind him, coming down the Stage_).--So! What you have been listening, my little inquisitive Cousin? _Agnes._ Oh, no; they tell me that is not polite. _Figaro._ Then what’s your errand?--He is not here. _Agnes._ Who? _Figaro._ Hannibal. _Agnes._ Oh, I know that very well--I know where he is--I want my Cousin Susan. _Figaro._ Aye!--And what do you want with her? _Agnes._ Not much; only to give her a Pin. _Figaro._ (_Starts_) A Pin! (_Striding about in great anger_) A Pin!--And how dare you, you little Hussey, undertake such Messages?--What! Have you learnt your trade already?--(_Marcelina makes a sign to Figaro, who recollects himself, and endeavours to disguise his feelings_)--Come, come, my pretty Cousin, don’t be frighten’d, I was but in joke--I--I--I know all about it; it’s a Pin that my Lord has sent by you to Susan. _Agnes._ Since you know so well, why need you ask me then? _Figaro._ (_Coaxing_) Only to hear what my Lord said when he sent thee on this errand. _Agnes._ Here, said he, here, my pretty little Agnes, take this Pin to thy Cousin Susan, and tell her it is the Seal of the new Song about the Twilight and the Pavilion. _Figaro._ And the---- _Agnes._ The Pavilion--And take great care, said he, that nobody sees thee. _Figaro._ Well, well, I was but joking; go and execute thy Message faithfully, exactly as my Lord bade thee. _Agnes._ Law! My Cousin takes me for a Ninny, I believe. (_Exit skipping_). _Figaro._ So, my Mother! _Marcelina._ So, my Son! _Figaro._ Here’s a sweet Daughter!--A delightful Bride!--And will be a most virtuous Wife!----(_Walking up and down with great agitation_)----A false--Deceitful--I’m happy, however, I have found her out--I will detect, expose, and abandon her! _Marcelina._ Nay, but gently, my Son, gently; recollect that Jealousy is the disease of a Madman, and that your Philosophy is invulnerable.--Fie! fie!--All this passion about a Pin! _Figaro._ A Pin that has wounded me to the heart!--Didn’t we see the Count pick it up?