_Marcelina._ We did so; but how can we tell whether she means to deceive thee or him?--Art thou sure she will go to the Rendezvous; and wilt thou condemn her without hearing her? _Figaro._ I am sorry--I am a Fool--And yet!--If she should be false! _Marcelina._ Nay, but my dear Figaro---- _Figaro._ Well, well; I will be calm--Yes, my amorous Count, you will at least meet with somebody you don’t expect--If you do not make haste we shall be at the Pavilion, as soon as your Lordship! (_Exeunt_). The End of ACT IV. ACT V. SCENE, _the Garden_, _With walks of cut trees in the back ground, and two Pavilions, one on each side of the stage_. _Enter_ AGNES. (_A lanthorn in one hand, and two cakes and an orange in the other_) _Agnes._ The Pavilion to the left? Ay, that’s it.--But if he should not come soon!--He has not half learnt me my part yet--Poor thing, he hasn’t eat any thing all day; and the cross, good-for-nothing Cook would not give me a morsel for him; so I was obliged to ask the Butler for these Cakes and this Orange:--It cost me a good kiss on the cheek, but I know who’ll repay--Oh dear, here’s somebody coming!-- _Enter_ FIGARO, _disguised in a red Rocquelaure_; Doctor Bartholo, Don Guzman, Basil, Antonio. _Figaro imagines at first Agnes to be Susan; and, as it is too dark to see, endeavours to follow the sound of her voice, having entered while she was speaking. Agnes enters the Pavilion on the left._ _Figaro._ I was mistaken, ’tis Agnes! (_They all grope down the stage till they get round Figaro_) What a clock is it? _Antonio._ Almost near the moon’s rising. _Basil._ What a gloomy night. _Doctor._ We look like so many Conspirators. _Figaro._ You understand, Gentlemen, why you are come hither--It is to be Witnesses of the Conduct of the virtuous Bride I am soon to espouse, and the honourable Lord who has graciously bestowed her upon me. _Basil._ (_Aside_) This will be a precious Revenge. _Doctor._ Remember, Figaro, a wise Man has never any Contest with the Great; it is the Battle of Don Quixote with the Windmills; they whirl and dash you to a Distance, without once altering or retarding their Course. _Figaro._ Rather remember they have not courage to oppress any but Cowards. _Doctor._ He’s mad. _Guzman._ Ye-e-es, he is ma-a-ad. _Antonio._ But what about? _Basil._ A certain Rendezvous;--Come this way, and I’ll tell you the whole. _Figaro._ Hide yourselves hereabouts, and come running the Moment you hear me call. _Doctor._ He is turning Fool. _Guzman._ Ye-e-es, he’s turning foo-oo-ool--Stay and take ca-are of him. (_Exeunt._ _Manent_ Figaro _and_ Doctor. {{_Figaro._ “Oh Woman, Woman, Woman! Inconstant, weak, deceitful Woman!--But each Animal is obliged to follow the instinct of its Nature; and it is thine to betray!----What, after swearing this very Morning to remain for ever Faithful; and on the identical Day! The bridal Day!---- _Doctor._ “Patience.