THE FOLLIES OF A DAY; OR, THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO. A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS. BY THOMAS HOLCROFT. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. COUNT ALMAVIVA BASIL PEDRO FIGARO ANTONIO PAGE COUNTESS SUSAN AGNES ACT I. SCENE 1.-A Room in the castle. FIGARO and SUSAN discovered. FIGARO measuring Fig. Eighteen feet by twenty-six: good. Fig. I believe so. Susan. I am sure so. Fig. Oh! that it were possible to deceive this arch deceiver, this lord of mine! a thousand blundering boobies have had art enough to filch a wil from the side of her sleeping, simple, unsuspecting spouse; and, if he complained, to redress his in Fig. Measuring, to try if the bed our noble lord juries with a cudgel: but, to turn the tables on this intends to give us will stand here. Susan. In this chamber? poacher, make him pay for a delicious morsel he shall never taste, infect him with fears for his own honour, and Susan. [Bell-rings.] Hark! my lady rings: I must run; for she has several times strictly charged me to be the first person at her breakfast the morning of our marriage. Fig. Why the first? Susan. The old saying tells us, that it's lucky to a neglected wife to meet a young bride on the morning of her wedding-day. [Brit. wit, such grace, and so much prudence and modesty, Fig. Ah! my sweet girl! She's an angel! Such too! I'm a happy fellow!-So, Mr. Basil, is it me, rascal, you mean to practise the tricks of your trade upon? I'll teach you to put your spoon in my milk. But, hold! a moment's reflection, friend Figaro, on the events of the day: first, thou must promote the sports and feastings already projected, that appearances may not cool, but that thy marriage may proceed with greater certainty; next, thou must-Ha! here again? Enter SUSAN, with the Countess's gown, cap, and riband in her hand. Susan. It wasn't my lady's bell; she has left her Susan. That is to say, you can take what liberties you please with such people as me. oom. Methinks, Figaro, you seem very indifferent about our wedding. Why aren't you gone to sumnon the bride-men and maids? and what's become Page. Oh! how do I envy thy happiness, Susan! of your fine plot to be revenged on my lord? Always near her; dressing her every morning; unFig. I'll away this moment, and prepare every-dressing her every evening; putting her to bed; thing. Pr'ythee, my Susan, give me one kiss before I go; 'twill quicken my wits, and lend imagination a new impulse. Susan, Oh! to be sure! But, if I kiss my lover to-day, what will my husband say to me to-morrow? Psha! Figaro, when wilt thou cease to trifle thus from morning till night? Fig. When I may trifle from night till morning, Sweet Susan. [Exit. Susan. Ah! Figaro, Figaro! if thou provest but as loving a husband as thou art a fond lover, thou'lt never need fear the proudest lord of them all. I declare, I forget what I came for. [Puts the gown on the arm-chair; but keeps the cap and riband in her hand. Page. Without.] Thank you, thank you, Figaro: I shall find her. [Enter the Page, running. Susan So, master Hannibal; what do you want here? Page. Oh! my dear, dear, pretty Susan! I have been looking for you these two hours. Susan. Well, what have you to say to me, now you have found me? Page. How does your beauteous lady do, Susan? Page. Do you know, Susan, my lord is going to send me back to my papa and mamma? Susan. Poor child! Page Child, indeed! umph! And, if my charming god-mother, your dear lady, cannot obtain my pardon, I shall soon be deprived of the pleasure of your company, Susan. in Susan. Upon my word! You are toying all day long with Agnes, and fancy yourself, moreover, love with my lady, and then come to tell me you shall be deprived of my company. Ha, ha, ha! Page. Agnes is good-natured enough to listen to me; and that is more than you are, Susan; for all love you so. Susan. Love me! Why, you amorous little villain, you are in love with every woman you meet. I Page. So I am, Susan, and I can't help it. If nobody is by, I swear it to the trees, the waters, and the winds; nay, to myself. Oh! how sweet are the words women, maidens, and love, in my ears! Susan. Ha, ha, ha! he's bewitched. And what is the Count going to send you from the castle for? Page. Last night, you must know, he caught me with Agnes, in her room: "Begone," said he, "thou little Susan. Lattle what? Page. Lord! he called me such a name-I can't for shame repeat it before a woman. I dare never meet his face again. [room? Susan. And, pray, what were you doing in Agnes's Page. Teaching her her part. Susan. Her part? Page. Yes; the love-scene, you know she is to act in the comedy this evening. Susan. [Aside. Which my lord would choose to teach her himself. Page. Agnes is very kind, Susan. Susan. Well, well; I'll tell the Countess what you say. But you are a little more circumspect in her presence. Page. Ah! Susan, she is a divinity. How noble is her manner! her very smiles are awful! touching her; looking at her; speaking to-What is it thou hast got there, Susan ? Susan. It is the fortunate riband of the happy cap, which, at night, enfolds the auburn ringlets of the beauteous Countess. Page. Give it me: nay, give it me; I will have it. Susan. But, I say, you sha'n't. [The Page snatches it.] Oh! my riband. Page. Be as angry as thou wilt, but thou shalt never have it again; thou should'st have one of my eyes rather. Susan. I can venture to predict, young gentleman, that, three or four years hence, thou wilt be one of the most deceitful, veriest knaves Page. If thou dost not hold thy tongue, Susan, I'll kiss thee into the bargain. Susan. Kiss me! Don't come near me, if thou lovest thy ears. I say, beg my lord to forgive you, indeed! No, I assure you. Count A. [Without.] Jaques! Page. Ah! I'm undone! 'Tis the Count himself, and there's no way out of this room. Lord, lord! what will become of me? [Hides himself. Enter Count ALMAVIVA. thee at last? But thou seemest frightened, my little Count A. So, my charming Susan, have I found beauty. Susan. Consider, my lord, if any body should come and find you here. Count A. That would be rather mal apropos; but there's no great danger [Offers to kiss Susan. Susan. Fie, my lord! Count A. Thou knowest, my charming Susan, the sador to the court of Paris. I shall take Figaro with king has done me the honour to appoint me ambasme, and give him a very excellent post; and, as it is the duty of a wife to follow her husband, I may then be as happy as I could wish. thought your affection for my lady, whom you took Susan. I really don't understand you, my lord. I so much pains to steal from her old guardian, and for love of whom you generously abolished a certain vile privilege Count A. For which all the young girls are very sorry, are they not? Susan. No, indeed, my lord. I thought, my lord, I say but promise thou wilt meet me to-night in the garCount A. Pr'ythee, say no more, my sweet Susan, den; and be certain, if thou wilt but grant me this small favour, nothing thou canst ask shall ever Basil. Without.] He is not in his own apartment. Count A. Heavens! here's somebody coming; and this infernal room has but one door. Where can I hide? Is there no place here? [The COUNT runs behind the arm-chair: SUSAN keeps between him and the Page, who steals away as the COUNT advances, leaps into the arm-chair, and is covered over with the Countess's gown by SUSAN. Enter BASIL. Basil. Ah! Susan, good morrow. Is my lord the Count here? Susan. Here? what should he be here for? Basil. Nay, there would be no miracle in it, if he were; would there, eh, gentle Susan? Susan. It would be a greater miracle to see you without seeming to take the least notice, drew it honest. Basil. Figaro is in search of him. Susan. Then he is in search of the man who wishes most to injure him-yourself excepted. Basil. It is strange that a man should injure the husband by obliging the wife. Count Á. [Peeping.] I shall hear now how well he pleads my cause. Basil. For my part, marriage being of all serious things the greatest farce, I imagined— Susan. All manner of wickedness. Basil. That though you are obliged to fast to-day, you might be glad to feed to-morrow; grace being first duly said. Susan. Begone, and don't shock my ears with your vile principles. Basil. Yes, my pretty Susan; but you must not suppose I am the dupe of these fine appearances: I know it is'nt Figaro who is the great obstacle to my lord's happiness; but a certain beardless Page, whom I surprised here yesterday looking for you, as I entered. Susan. I wish you'd begone, you wicked devil. Basil. Wicked devil! Ah! one is a wicked devil for not shutting one's eyes. Susan. I wish you'd begone, I tell you. Basil. Wasn't it for you that he wrote the song, which he goes chanting up and down the house at every instant? Susan. Oh yes, for me, to be sure. Basil. I'm sure it was either for you or your lady. Susan. What next? gently aside, thus. Eh! I [Approaches the arm-chair, and draws aside the gown that hides the Page.] Basil. Zounds! Susan Count A. Why, this is a better trick than t'other. Basil. Worth ten of it. No; I won't sit down: faint best standing. Ha, ha, ha! Count A. And so, it was to receive this pretty youth that you were so desirous of being alone. And you, you little villain, what, you don't intend to mend your manners, then?-but, forgetting all re spect for your friend Figaro, and for the Countess, your god-mother, likewise, you are endeavouring here to seduce her favourite woman! I, however, shall not suffer Figaro, a man whom I esteem sincerely, to fall the victim of such deceit. Did this imp enter with you, Basil ? Basil. No, my lord. Susan. There's neither victim por deceit in the case, my lord: he was here when you entered. Count A. I hope that's false; his greatest enemy couldn't wish him so much mischief. Susan. Knowing that you were angry with him, the poor boy came running to me, begging me to solicit my lady in his favour, in hopes she might engage you to forgive him; but was so terrified when he heard you coming, that he hid himself in the great chair. Count A. A likely story! I sat down in it as soon as I came in. Page. Yes, my lord; but I was then trembling behind it. Count A. That's false again; for I hid myself be Basil. Why, really, when he sits at table, he does cast certain very significant glances towards a beau-hind it when Basil entered. teous Countess, who shall be nameless. But let him beware. If my lord catches him at his tricks, he'll make him dance without music. Susan. Nobody but such a wicked creature as you, could ever invent such scandalous tales to the ruin of a poor youth, who has, unhappily, fallen into his lordship's displeasure. Basil. I invent? Why, it's in every body's mouth. Count A. [Discovers himself, and comes forward.] How? in every body's mouth? Basil. Zounds! Count A. Run, Basil; let him have fifty pistoles and a horse given him, and be sent back to his friends instantly. Basil. I'm very sorry, my lord, that I happened to speak of Susan. Oh, oh! I am quite suffocated. Count A. Let us seat her in this great chair, Basil: quick, quick. Susan. This wicked fellow has ruined the poor boy. No,no; I won't sit down: I always faint best standing. Basil. I assure you, my lord, what I said was only meant to sound Susan. Count A. No matter; he shall depart: a little wanton, impudent rascal, that I meet at every turning! No longer ago than yesterday, I surprised him with the gardener's daughter. Basil. Agnes? Count A. In her very bed-chamber. Susan. Where my lord happened to have business himself. Count A. Hem! I was going there to seek her father, Antonio, my drunken gardener: I knocked at the door, and waited some time; at last Agnes came, with confusion in her countenance: I entered, cast a look around; and, perceiving a kind of long cloak or curtain, or some such thing, approached; and, Page. Pardon me, my lord; but, as you ap proached, I returned, and crouched down as you now see me. Count A. It's a little serpent that glides into every cranny. And he has been listening, too, to our discourse. Page. Indeed, my lord, I did all I could not to hear a word. Count A. [To SUSAN.] There is no Figaro, no husband for you, however. Basil. [To PAGE.] Somebody's coming: get down. Enter the COUNTESS, FIGARO, AGNES, PEDRO, and Servants; Figaro carrying the nuptial cap. Count A. [Plucks the Page from the arm-chair.] What, would you continue crouching there before the whole world? Fig. We are come, my lord, to beg a favour, which, we hope, for your lady's sake, you will grant. [Aside to SUSAN.] Be sure to second what I say. Susan. [Aside to FIG.] It will end in nothing. Fig. Aside to Sus.] No matter; let's try, at least. Countess. You see, my lord, I am supposed to have a much greater degree of influence with you than I really possess. Count A. Oh no,madam; not an atom, I assure you Fig. [Presenting the cap to the Count.] Our petition is, that the bride may have the honour of receiving from our worthy lord's hand this nuptial cap, ornamented with half-blown roses and white ribands, symbols of the purity of his intentions. Count A. [Aside.] Do they mean to laugh at me? Countess. Let me beg, my lord, you will not deny their request; in the name of that love you once had for me. Count A. And have still, madam. Count A. Well, well; I consent. [Gives SUSAN the cap.] Remember the garden. [Aside. Fig. Look at her, my lord: never could a more beauteous bride better prove the greatness of the sacrifice you have made." Susan. Oh! don't speak of my beauty, but his lordship's virtues. Count A. [Aside.] My virtues! Yes, yes; I see they understand each other. Agnes. [Pointing to the Page.] Have you forgiven what happened yesterday, my lord? Count 4. Hush! Fig. [To the Page.] What's the matter, young Hannibal the brave? What makes you so silent? Susan. He's sorrowful, because my lord is going to send him from the castle. All. Oh my lord Countess. Let me beg you will forgive him. Count A. [Aside.] Not so young, perhaps, as you suppose. Page. My lord certainly has not ceded away the right to pardon. Susan. And, if he had, that would certainly be the first he would secretly endeavour to reclaim. Count A. No doubt, no doubt. Page. My conduct, my lord, may have been indiscreet; but I can assure your lordship, that the least word shall never pass my lips Count 4. Enough, enough! since every body begs for him, I must grant. I shall, moreover, give him a company in my regiment. All. Oh my lord Count A. But, on condition, that he departs today for Catalonia, to join the corps. All Oh! my lord tection. Fig. To-morrow, my lord? Count A. To-day. It shall be so. To the Page.] Take leave of your god-mother, and beg her pro[The Page kneels to the Countess. Fig. Go, go, child; go. [Pushes the Page forward. Countess. With great emotion.] Since it is not possible to obtain leave for you to remain here today, depart, young man, and follow the noble career which lies before you. Go where fortune and glory call. Be obedient, polite, and brave, and be certain we shall take part in your prosperity. [Raises him.] Count A. You seem agitated, madam. Countess. How can I help it, recollecting the perils to which his youth must be exposed? He has been bred in the same house with me, is of the same kindred, and is, likewise, my god-son. Count 4. [Aside.] Basil, I see, was in the right. [To the Page.] Go; kiss Susan, for the last time. Fig. No, there's no occasion for kissing, my lord; he'll return in the winter; and, in the mean time, he may kiss me. The scene must now be changed, my delicate youth: you must not run up stairs and down into the women's chambers, play at hunt the slipper, steal cream, suck oranges, and live upon sweet-meats. Instead of that, zounds! you must look bluff; tan your face; handle your musket; turn to the right; wheel to the left; and march to glory that is, if you are not stopped short by a bullet. Susan. Fie! Figaro. Countess. What a prophecy! Fig. Were I a soldier, I'd make some of them scamper. But, come, come, my friends, let us prepare our feast against the evening. Count A. Well, much diversion to you all, my friends, Going. Countess. You will not leave us, my lord. Count A. I am undressed, you see. Countess. We shall see nobody but our own people. Count A. I must do what you please. Wait for me in the study, Basil. I shall make out his commission immediately. [Exeunt all but F16, and Page. Fig. [Retams the Page.] Come, come; let us study our parts well for the play in the evening: I dare say, you know no more of your's than Agnes does of her's. Page. You forget, Figaro, that I am going. Page. Ah! yes. Fig. Follow my advice, and so thou shalt. Fig. Make no murmuring, but clap on your boots, and seem to depart; gallop as far as the farm; return to the castle on foot; enter by the back way; and hide yourself, till I can come to you, in the lodge at the bottom of the garden; you will find pretty Agnes thereabouts. Page. Ay, and then I may teach her her part, you Susan. Yes, madam. Countess. But how did he happen to be in your room, Susan? Susan. The poor boy came to beg I would prevail on you to obtain his pardon of my lord the count Countess. But why did not he come to me himself? I should not have refused him a favour of that kind. Susan. Bashfulness, madam. "Ah! Susan, (said he,) she is a divinity! How noble is her manner! Her very smiles are awful." Countess. Is that true, Susan? Countess. I have always afforded him my protection. Susan. Had you, madam, but seen him snatch the riband from me! Countess. [Rising.] Psha! enough of this nonsense. And so, my lord the Count endeavours to seduce you, Susan? Susan. Oh no, indeed, madam, he does not give himself the trouble to seduce; he endeavours to purchase me; and, because I refuse him, will certainly prevent my marriage with Figaro. Countess. Fear nothing. We shall have need, however, of a little artifice, perhaps ; in the execution of which, Figaro's assistance may not be amiss. Susan. He'll be here, madam, as soon as my lord is gone a-coursing. Countess. Your lord is an ungrateful man, Susan! an ungrateful man! Open the window; I am stifled for want of air. Vows, protestations, and tenderness, are all forgotten. My love offends, my caresses dis gust: his own infidelities must be overlooked, yet my conduct must be irreproachable. Susan. [Looking out of the window.] Yonder goes my lord, with all his grooms and greyhounds. Countess. To divert himself with hunting a poor, timid, harmless hare to death. This, however, will | give us time to [ Knocking at the door.] Somebody is at the door, Susan. Enter FIGARO. Countess. Well, Figaro, you've heard of my lord the Count's designs on your fair bride. Fig. Oh yes, my lady. There was nothing very surprising in the news. My lord sees a sweet, young, lovely angel, and wishes to have her: can any thing be more natural? I wish the very same. Countess. I don't find it so very pleasant, Figaro. Fig. He endeavours to overturn the schemes of those who oppose his wishes; and in this he only follows the example of the world: I will endeavour to do the same by him; and first, my scheme requires that you dress up the Page in your clothes, my dear Susan: he is to be your representative in the design I have plotted. Countess. The Page! Susan. He is gone. Fig. Is he? Perhaps so; but a whistle from me will bring him back. Susan. So, now Figaro's happy; plots and contrivances Fig. Two, three, four, at a time! Embarrassed, involved, perplexed! Leave me to unravel them. I was born to thrive in courts. Susan. I've heard the trade of a courtier is not so difficult as some pretend. Fig. Ask for every thing that falls, seize every thing in your power, and accept every thing that's offered; there's the whole art and mystery in three words. Countess. But should my lord discover the disguised Page? Susan. He'll only give him a smart lecture, and that will do his boyish vanity no harm. Countess. And, in truth, it deserves a little mortification. Well, next for the Count, Figaro. Fig. Permit me, madam, to manage him. And first, the better to secure my property, I shall begin by making him dread the loss of his own: to which end, an anonymous letter must be sent, informing him, that a gallant (meaning to profit by his neglect and absence) is at present with his beauteous Countess; and, to confess the truth, the thing is already done, madam. Countess. How? have you dared to trifle thus with a woman of honour? Fig. Oh! madam, it is only with a woman of honour I should presume to take a liberty like this; lest my joke should happen to prove a reality. Countess. You don't want an agreeable excuse for your plot, Figaro. Though I hardly know how to give into it. [Aside. ment. Fig. If you please, madam, I'll go and send the Page hither to be dressed. We must not lose a mo[Exit. Countess. [Examining her head-dress in the lookingglass.] What a hideous cap this is, Susan! it's quite awry. This youth who is coming Susan. Ah! madam, your beauty needs not the addition of art in his eyes. Countess. I assure you, Susan, I shall be very severe with him: I shall tell him of all the complaints I hear against him. Susan. Oh! yes, madam; I can see you will scold him heartily. Countess. What do you say, Susan? new profession? I'll tell all I know. [Returns to the COUNTESS.] ObSusan. [Aside to the Page.] Ay, ay, young rake, lashes. [Aride to the Page. Hypocrite, I'll tell serve his downcast eyes, madam, and long eye Counters. Nay, Hannibal, don't be terrified. I— Come nearer. Susan. [Pushing him towards the COUNTESS.] Advance, modesty. Countess. Poor youth, he's quite affected. I'm not angry with you; I was only going to speak to you on the duties of a soldier. Why do you seem so sorrowful? ing, as I am, obliged to leave a lady so gentle, and Page. Alas! madam, I may well be sorrowful; be so kind, I am. Page. Um. Susan. Turn about; let me untie your cloak. Susan. Dear, my lady, we are not doing any barm; I'll lock the door, however, for fear. Well! have you nothing to say to my beauteous lady, and your charming god-mother? Page. Oh yes; that I am sure I shall love her as long as I live. Countess. Esteem, you mean, Hannibal. Page. Ye-ye-yes; esteem, I should have said. Susan. [Laughs.] Yes, yes; esteem! The poor youth overflows with esteem, and affection, and— Page. Um! [Aside to SUSAN, Susan. Now, let us try whether one of my capsCountess. There's a close cap of mine lies on my dressing-table. [Erit SUSAN.] Is your commission made out? Page. Oh! yes, madam, and given me: here it is. [Presents his commission to the COUNTESS. they are not willing to lose a moment; their purry Countess. Already? They have made haste, I see; has made them even forget to affix the seal to it. Re-enter SUSAN, with a cap in her hand. Countess. I was observing, there has been no time lost. Susan. Come. [Makes the Page kneel down, and puts the cap on him.] What a pretty little villain it is! I declare I am jealous. See, if he is not handsomer than I am! Turn about; there. What's here? the riband? So, so, so! now all's out. I am glad of it. I told my young gentleman I would let you know his thievish tricks, madam. Countess. Fetch me some black patches, Susan. Susan. There are none in your room, madam; I'll fetch some out of mine. [Erit Countess. And-and so you-you are sorry Susan. [Goes to the chamber-door.] Come, come in, leave us? Mister Soldier. Page. Ye-yes, madam. |
