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''Figaro'' parody, act 2

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Smooth Operators
Gen Y-ers without the short attention span
presents

The Marriage of Figaro
Act II

OR
An opera-going yuri fan's dream come true
(at least until they discover
Der Rosenkavalier)


SCENE: THE COUNTESS' BOUDOIR.


Rosina, the Countess, sits slumped upon a settee, staring despondently at the garden outside her window.

COUNTESS: Woe is me!  How did everything go so horribly, horribly wrong?  It was all so wonderful when we were living in Seville – I used to be happy!  My husband used to be happy!  Everyone used to be happy!  Well, everyone bar Bartolo, but nobody really cares about him.  But now, everything has gone to Hell in a hand basket!  Hmm . . . what an odd expression that is . . . surely the basket would be melted by all the fire and brimstone before even reaching its destination . . . oh, hang it all, I'm so miserable!

Susanna enters the room and the Countess brightens slightly upon seeing her.

COUNTESS: Oh, Susanna, you're always full of those clever one-liners – say something amusing!

SUSANNA: . . . your husband still wishes to have his way with me on my wedding night.

COUNTESS: (laughing heartily) That's brilliant!  Well done indeed!

SUSANNA: That . . . wasn't a joke, Madame.

COUNTESS: . . . oh. (She slumps over once again) Now I feel even worse than before!  It pains me to think what my husband must be putting you through . . . and . . . oh, the heartless man – he no longer loves me!

SUSANNA: But how can that be, Madame?  All a man has to do is look at you sideways and His Lordship flares up with the most terrible jealousy!

COUNTESS: Not a bit of it!  To say his jealousy is proof that he loves me is as absurd as saying that play by that Beaumarchais fellow singlehandedly brought about the French Revolution!  Oh, whatever am I to do?

Susanna reaches over and gently squeezes the Countess' hand.

SUSANNA: Take heart, my lady – things will work out, they always do!  Though I suppose that's because I'm invariably the one having to work them out . . .

Before their conversation can go any further, loud footsteps can be heard from downstairs, coupled with muffled screams.

BAVÓN'S VOICE: MY MIXING SPOON!  GIVE ME BACK MY MIXING SPOON, YOU LITTLE DISEASE-INFESTED PEST!

COUNTESS: Goodness, what in the world was that?

SUSANNA: It sounded like the baker's –

Before she can finish, Minnie Mouse bursts through the door, carrying what appears to be a large spoon made of pure silver.

MINNIE: Oh me, oh my!  Back to the black market I must flee!

COUNTESS: S-such impudence!  How dare you suddenly charge in here without permission!

SUSANNA: (staring hard at Minnie) Did I meet you – or someone very like you – several summers ago in Italy?

MINNIE: Oh, I wouldn't know – you people all look the same to me!

Saying this, she opens the window and leaps out from it, landing face first in the mud.  Recovering quickly, she gets up and makes for her coach.  Bartolo finally manages to pull himself from beneath the carriage, but Minnie's flinging the gate open knocks him in front of it again.  Minnie boards the coach and it speeds off, running Bartolo down yet again . . . before doing a U-turn and driving over the poor man a third time, then disappearing over the horizon.

Bartolo lies motionless on the ground before slowly rising to his feet.  Looking both ways for any more stray coaches, he finally makes his way to the front door of the Almaviva's residence again.

BARTOLO: Hmph!  Can't anything go right today?

In her room above, the Countess stares down from the open window, gaping.

COUNTESS: That has to be the strangest thing I ever . . . oh, I feel an awful headache coming on.  Kindly fetch the laudanum, Susanna.

SUSANNA: Of course, my lady.

Before she can do so, Bavón appears in the doorway, panting.

BAVÓN: M-my spoon . . . !  It was a gift from my master . . . (His voice cracks a little) Ten ounces of pure silver . . . and my mixing utensil . . . gone!

COUNTESS: I'm, er . . . I'm sure I'm very . . . sorry for your loss?

BAVÓN: Without a mixing spoon of some sort, I can't prepare a cake the size you've ordered in time for the wedding!  I-I'm so sorry, Segñorita Susanna . . .

SUSANNA: (patting him on the shoulder) It's hardly your fault, Bavón.

COUNTESS: Well . . . I'm sure the kitchen staff would be only too happy to lend you one of the spoons they have, given the circumstances.

BAVÓN: Thank you, Your Ladyship, but that item was of great sentiment to me and my master . . . and that grubby rat just wants to pawn it off!

COUNTESS: If it will help, I suppose I could send an errand boy out to see if he can recover your spoon, should it have been taken to a market . . .

BAVÓN: (reddening slightly) B-boy, you say?

SUSANNA: (smirking) Don't get too excited there, Bavón.  Besides, you've still got to finish the cake, haven't you?

BAVÓN: Oh, well yes, you're right.  I should head back to the kitchen, I guess. (aside) Maybe I'll meet that one boy on the way down . . .

He dutifully returns to the kitchen; the Countess stares after him, looking puzzled.

COUNTESS: There's something quite unusual about that boy . . .

SUSANNA: He's . . . different, Madame.

COUNTESS: (blankly) "Different" . . . ?

SUSANNA: (shaking her head) Never mind.

There is a knock at the door; Susanna opens it to reveal a beaming Figaro.

SUSANNA: (also beaming to see him) Dearest!  What brings you here?

FIGARO: Didn't I tell you I'd drop by to explain the next phase of our plan?  Hmm, perhaps it slipped my mind.  Well, no matter!  I'm here now!

He enters and bows to the Countess.

FIGARO: There's no cause for worry, Madame!  Your husband has set his sights on my bride, and really, who can blame him?  But who's to say that you can't also have a little fun?

COUNTESS: I'm afraid I don't follow.

FIGARO: I've written an anonymous letter addressed to Your Ladyship, making it seem like you have a young lover planning to meet you tonight.  I'll have Basilio "accidentally" give it to His Lordship, and that's sure to play on his jealousy!  Then, while he's rushing around trying to find this non-existent lover, Susanna and I will be free to marry before he has a chance to try anything!

SUSANNA: But what about that old crone Marcellina?  She's certain to appeal to the Count and have him ratify her claim on your hand.

FIGARO: Not to worry – I've already thought of a way around that!  We'll trick him into thinking Susanna has accepted his rendezvous, but we'll send someone else in her place!  And then Her Ladyship can catch him in the act!  He'll be so thoroughly ashamed, he'll have no choice but to do what she commands . . . and if she commands that he leave my Susanetta alone . . . catch my drift?

Susanna applauds Figaro and embraces him.

SUSANNA: That's quite the plan you've hatched, Figaretto!  How shall we execute it?

FIGARO: Well, firstly I'll hand that letter to Basilio as soon as I next see him; we've plenty of time as His Lordship is out hunting at present.  I'll leave it to your discretion as to when you want to inform him of the meeting in the garden.  Oh, and I told Cherubino not to leave just yet . . . perhaps you could make sure he stays hidden from the Count; I'll send him up on my way out.

He embraces Susanna and bows once more to the Countess before leaving the room.  The Countess repositions herself on the settee, looking glum.

COUNTESS: To think that Cherubino heard those awful passes my husband made at you, Susanna . . . it troubles me like you wouldn't believe!  Why didn't the boy come straight to me?  'Times I feel he's avoiding me, and when I do see him, he behaves in the most unusual ways – always fidgeting and staring at his feet . . .

SUSANNA: I rather think he's quite fond of you, my lady . . .

COUNTESS: (not catching the implication) Well, I should certainly hope so!

There is a hesitant knock at the door.  Susanna answers it and finds Cherubino, now dressed in a rather dashing military uniform.

SUSANNA: And here he is now! (She pulls Cherubino away from the door and salutes him) Come in, little captain!

CHERUBINO: (dryly) Yeah, captain of penguin-slaughtering.  Can't wait . . .

SUSANNA: And that overwhelming enthusiasm wouldn't have anything to do with you having to bid adios to your darling Godmamma, would it?

CHERUBINO: (coyly) Well . . . that too . . . after she's been so kind and everything . . .

SUSANNA: (tousling his hair) You've certainly changed your tune!  What happened to "Godmamma Rosina's totally hot"?

At this, Cherubino squeaks in horror, going red and staring at the ground; the Countess also blushes, looking flattered.

SUSANNA: Speaking of tunes, let's hear that song you told me about earlier!

COUNTESS: Oh?  What song might this be?

SUSANNA: He says he wrote a song especially for you, Madame!

CHERUBINO: (flushing and staring at the ground) No . . . I couldn't . . .

SUSANNA: You can and will – Her Ladyship demands it!

COUNTESS: I do?  Oh, I-I mean, I do!  Sing, child!

CHERUBINO: If that's what you want, Godmamma . . . but I don't think I can sing alone . . . (He shyly meets the Countess' gaze) Perhaps if you accompanied me on your guitar . . .

COUNTESS: Oh . . . I've actually no idea how to play the guitar – it's only there for show, since I figured it looked impressive and, by extension, would make me seem impressive.

SUSANNA: Well, as luck would have it, I'm a surprisingly proficient guitarist!  And if it looks like I'm simply miming to what's being played in the pit, well, you obviously need your eyes checked!  And your ears too, should the guitar suddenly start sounding like an entire orchestra of instruments. (She takes the guitar and briefly tunes it) Ready, boy?

Cherubino inhales deeply, attempting to settle his nerves; after a moment, he steadies himself and begins to sing, Susanna flawlessly accompanying him on the guitar.

CHERUBINO: (singing) Cara ben', cara mia bella –
mia madrina!  O ciel',
che ella stima, che ella stima;
O cara mia, ti amo!
  EPIC GUITAR SOLO, SUSANNA!

SUSANNA: Not going to happen, kid.

INVERTED-JABBERWOCKY: I would literally kill to have improvisational skills like Susanna's.

Outside the room, Bavón sneaks up from the kitchen and listens through the door.

BAVÓN: (sighing dreamily) Oh, what a beautiful voice he has!  How I wish he was singing to me . . .

Finishing the song, Cherubino bows self-consciously at the Countess and Susanna's hearty applause.  In the hallway outside, Bavón leans heavily against the door.

BAVÓN: My heart is all aflutter . . . I think . . . I think I'm in love with this boy!

COUNTESS: Oh, what a lovely singing voice you have!  And that song was just beautiful, truly . . .

She trails off and suddenly begins sobbing.  Concerned, Susanna and Cherubino rush to her side, each taking one of her hands.

SUSANNA: Madame?  Whatever is the matter?

COUNTESS: That song's words are the kindest thing anyone has said to me since . . . I can't even remember the last time I received a compliment!

SUSANNA: My poor lady . . . come on, Cherubino, we must find a way to lift her spirits!

CHERUBINO: Would you like me to sing again for you, Godmamma?

Susanna looks from Cherubino to the dressing room, pensive; noticing the Countess doing the same, she slowly smiles as she gets an idea.

SUSANNA: Madame, could you be thinking what I'm thinking?

COUNTESS: I think so, but really, why should it matter whether Idamante is played by a tenor or a mezzo-soprano?

SUSANNA: . . . what?  No, what I meant was I may have just the thing to cheer you up . . . and it will also help us further Figaro's plan!

She rises and begins advancing on Cherubino.

CHERUBINO: (backing away nervously) Susanna?  Wh-why are you looking at me like that . . . ?

COUNTESS: . . . oh, you are not, Susanna . . .

SUSANNA: (sweetly) Not what, my lady?

COUNTESS: I've seen that look before . . . just what are you plotting?

SUSANNA: Do you remember what Figaro said?  I make your husband think I will meet him tonight in the garden, but I send someone else in my place.  Well . . . (turning to Cherubino) we have someone else right here!  You, my boy, are going to make one very pretty little maiden!

CHERUBINO: Wh-what?!

Outside, Bavón covers his mouth, aghast.

BAVÓN: Wh-what is this scandalous proposition?!

COUNTESS: I . . . I suppose that could work . . .

CHERUBINO: Godmamma!  You're supposed to defend me!

SUSANNA: If you're that unhappy about all this, perhaps you should have thought twice about letting the Count catch you fooling around with my cousin!

CHERUBINO: I already told you, she was . . . just showing me her snail collection!

COUNTESS: . . . is that what they're calling it now?

BAVÓN: . . . snails?  Oh, goodness, I need to get back to the cake! (He hurries back to the kitchen)

SUSANNA: You want to see Her Ladyship smile again, don't you, Cherubino?

CHERUBINO: (grudgingly) Well, yes . . . oh, all right, I'll do it . . . but only to make Godmamma happy!

SUSANNA: Brilliant!  I'll just go get some of the things we'll need!  You wait right there!

She hurries into the dressing room.  Cherubino stares after her, fiddling with a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket.

COUNTESS: (noticing the paper) Oh, what is that you've got there?

CHERUBINO: (pulling the paper from his pocket and showing the Countess) It's my army commission – Don Basilio gave it to me.

COUNTESS: Oh, so soon?  My, but look at that – they've forgotten to put the seal on this commission.  The simple fact that I noticed it means it must be of great significance!  I must make a note of that at once!

She produces a large wad of parchment from beneath the settee and hastily scribbles something down, then turns to Cherubino.

COUNTESS: I wonder though . . . will it prove to be a Chekhov's gun or a mere red herring?  What do you think?

CHERUBINO: Um . . . what?

Susanna returns from the dressing room, carrying a frilly pink ribbon.

SUSANNA: My lady, you're not still trying to convince others of your silly conspiracy theory, are you?  Best to not pay her any mind, Cherubino – it's just a paranoid delusion she suffers from.

COUNTESS: Paranoid delusion my foot!  Our daily lives are being treated as nothing more than ludicrously exorbitant entertainment, I tell you!  Night after night, they're being played out upon a stage for a paying audience to sate their awful voyeuristic desires! (She gestures to said audience) Just look!  How else would you explain this throng sitting in my chamber?  I most certainly didn't invite them!

SUSANNA: Madame, perhaps you should . . . take a powder and have a little lie down.

COUNTESS: . . . don't patronise me, woman.

SUSANNA: (turning to Cherubino) And now then, little officer . . . off with that jacket! (She removes it before he can say anything)

COUNTESS: B-but suppose someone should come in and see him in this state?

SUSANNA: Then let them – we're doing no harm.  Of course, if it troubles you that greatly, I'll lock the door.

She gets up and does so, then returns to Cherubino.  She undoes the top buttons of his shirt, loosens his hair and ties the ribbon into a large bow atop his head, then steps back to admire her handiwork.

SUSANNA: There!  Don't you look just precious!

Cherubino sulks but remains silent.

SUSANNA: And now to instruct you in the art of being ladylike!  Firstly, keep your upper arms glued to your sides, then hold your lower arms and hands up, swinging them out in front of you, and make sure you keep your fingers splayed.  Most importantly, be sure to bounce with every step you take.  And that's how you run like a girl!

COUNTESS: And one must also remember to hold one's skirt up while running!  You wouldn't want to trip over your skirt like some other silly ladies I could name, would you?

SUSANNA: . . . why did you look at me when you said that last part?

CHERUBINO: (to himself) I do hope no one I've courted in the past two months sees me like this . . .

COUNTESS: In any case, Susanna, you should roll his sleeves up to ensure the dress will go on more easily.

Susanna does so, inadvertently revealing that Cherubino's wrist has been bandaged with one of the Countess' ribbons.

COUNTESS: Oh . . . that ribbon . . .

SUSANNA: So that's where it got to!  You must have stolen it from the laundry basket, hmm?

CHERUBINO: I . . . I needed something!  It's not like anyone would've noticed . . .

COUNTESS: (turning pale) And is that . . . bl-blood I see on it . . . ?

CHERUBINO: It's nothing, really!  The, um . . . the horse bit me, that's all!

SUSANNA: (inspecting his wrist) Oh, the horse did it?  Well, you just keep telling yourself that.

CHERUBINO: Suck my Rosenkavalier!

COUNTESS: (affronted) Oh, my!  Language!

SUSANNA: (ruffling Cherubino's hair) You're all right, kiddo, you're all right.

COUNTESS: Enough prattling – go and fetch a plaster from the dressing room.

Susanna goes off to the dressing room; the Countess unwinds the ribbon from Cherubino's arm and gazes at it fondly.

COUNTESS: You know, this is one of my favourite ribbons . . . I do hope Susanna will be able to get the blood out . . .

CHERUBINO: I hope so too.  If I had known it was precious to you, I would have been more careful with it.

COUNTESS: (smiling dotingly and patting his head) Such a sweet boy!

Susanna returns with the plaster, handing it to the Countess.

COUNTESS: Very good, Susanna.  Now, go and fetch another ribbon to keep the plaster in place.  Oh, and bring the dress as well.

Susanna turns and heads out the door to the servants' quarters, mumbling something about life here being no different from that in Naples.

CHERUBINO: (tentatively fingering the favourite ribbon) I think this one would actually be better . . .

COUNTESS: Oh?  What makes you say this?

CHERUBINO: When you use a ribbon that belongs to someone special . . . it can . . .

COUNTESS: (trying to guess at what he might say) Ribbons like that have special healing properties, is that what you're saying?  Well, you learn something new every day!

Losing his nerve at this, Cherubino slumps in a foetal position on the floor, sulking.

COUNTESS: Oh, please don't fret so, darling – I'm sure you'll make a beautiful girl!

CHERUBINO: It's not that . . . I don't want to be in the army – I don't want to leave you!

COUNTESS: My poor boy . . .

CHERUBINO: Maybe I should just jump out the window right now and kill myself!  They can't send me off to war if I'm already dead, right?

At this, the Countess throws her arms around him, holding him tightly.

COUNTESS: Dear child, don't contemplate such madness!  You're so precious and life has only begun for you; you have so much more to live for – for me, if nothing else!

Cherubino sniffles, then straightens up and leans towards the Countess, flushing and closing his eyes.  Caught quite off-guard, the Countess stares at Cherubino, then – perhaps in a moment of weakness – leans down and kisses him.  At this, several YURI FANS in the audience (who refuse to see Cherubino as anything but the girl he is being played by) literally effervesce – and bubble over – with excitement.

OPERA HOUSE MANAGER: Not again! (aside, to the cleaning staff) Clean-up in aisles B, F and Q . . . and the entire dress circle . . .

AUDIENCE MEMBER 1: Wait, I know they aren't blood-related, but . . . they are still family, in a sense.  Also, isn't he half her age and still a kid?

YURI FAN 1: Strauss didn't seem to have a problem with the age gap.  And besides, I thought Dorabella and Fiordiligi were lovers – I'm hardly in a position to judge.

INVERTED-JABBERWOCKY: Do you mind?  Some of us are actually trying to watch the kissi – er, I mean, the opera!

SUPERMIMBLES360: We know you, Jabberwocky; don't pretend you're not enjoying this.

STILL-INTACT YURI FANS: DO YOU MIND?!  SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO WATCH THE KISSING!

The Countess and Cherubino's little moment together is suddenly interrupted by a loud knocking at the door.

VOICE: (outside the door) Wife!  Are you in there?  Why is this door locked?

COUNTESS: (to Cherubino) M-my husband!  Heavens, what can we do?!  We cannot let him find you here!  You must . . . you must hide in the dressing room!  He'll never think to look there!

CHERUBINO: (gesturing to the door Susanna exited by) Wouldn't it be easier if I just go out th –

COUNTESS: Out of the question!  You have no choice but to conceal yourself in the dressing room!

CHERUBINO: . . . why?

COUNTESS: Entertainment, dear boy!  The audience would be most disappointed at this scene's lack of tension were you to leave so easily!

CHERUBINO: . . . Susanna was right, Godmamma – there's something really quite wrong with you.

COUNT'S VOICE: Is someone in there with you?

COUNTESS: N-no, of course not!  That other voice you can hear is . . . is just me – I've decided to take up ventriloquism!

She hastily ushers Cherubino into the dressing room and locks the door.

COUNT'S VOICE: Well, are you going to let me in?  You're not in the habit of locking your door.

COUNTESS: I-I know, but I'm . . . I'm not decent, you see.  I'm at a loss as to what I should wear to the wedding, so I've been trying on every outfit I own.

COUNT: . . . well, what should your being undressed matter – we are married, are we not?

COUNTESS: Er, yes, of course.  I think I've found the perfect outfit now.

She frantically grabs a ridiculous-looking dress studded with sequins and throws it over herself, then hesitantly unlocks her door.  The Count opens it and begins to enter before stopping in his tracks, somewhat aghast at her loud attire.

COUNT: Good Lord, woman, you still have that hideous thing?  I thought you'd surely burned it!

COUNTESS: Perhaps I will, if it offends you so.  In any case, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?

COUNT: (entering the room and pulling a piece of paper from his pocket) It's this odd letter I received from Basilio. (He unfolds it and squints at it, holding it upside-down) I can't make head nor tail of it . . . but I did make out the words "Rosina" and "garden".  You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?

The Countess briefly casts her eyes over the letter and inhales sharply, realising it is the letter Figaro wrote.

COUNTESS: I-I'm sure I have no idea what this could be.

Something that sounds suspiciously like a body and several bricks hitting the ground is suddenly heard from the dressing room.

COUNT: WHAT THE DEVIL WAS THAT?!

COUNTESS: Wh-what was what?

COUNT: Something fell in your dressing room!  How did you not hear that?  Your mind must be very preoccupied . . .

COUNTESS: Oh, that!  Well, you see, it was probably a rat . . .

COUNT: Rats?  Nonsense!  The asbestos piled up in the walls keeps them out!

COUNTESS: Oh, but I saw one not a few minutes ago – big as this settee, it was!

COUNT: You can't fool me!  You're hiding something in there, aren't you?

COUNTESS: N-no!  I'm not –

COUNT: You've got a pet in there, haven't you!

COUNTESS: . . . a pet?

COUNT: How many times must I tell you, woman?  I will not tolerate animals inside the chateau!  It's a dog, isn't it?  I do hope it's a dog – they make the most satisfying squishing sound when you stomp their skulls in!

COUNTESS: (turning an unattractive shade of green) I-it's not a dog, I promise.  In fact, it . . . it might just be Susanna – she might just be . . . trying on her wedding dress!

COUNT: "Might just be"?  You don't sound too certain, Countess.

COUNTESS: You can't honestly expect me to keep tabs on everything my maid does!

Ignoring her, the Count turns to the dressing room and bangs on the door.

COUNT: Susanna!  Or dog, or whoever else might be in there – come out at once!

COUNTESS: (aside) Oh, Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

At the far end of the room, Susanna enters unnoticed.  She very nearly walks right into the fray, but sees what is happening and quickly hides herself behind the bed.

SUSANNA: (to herself) What in the world's going on?  Why is His Lordship here?  And where did Cherubino go?

COUNT: (banging on the dressing room door once again) Susanna, are you listening to me?  If you can hear me, then say something!

COUNTESS: (rushing up to the door) No, Susanna!  Say nothing – I forbid you to speak!

COUNT: (turning to the Countess) You only become obstinate like this when you have something to hide . . . and so help me, I'm going to find out what it is!

Before the Countess has a chance to argue, the Count goes to the door leading to the servants' quarters and locks it.

COUNT: I'm going to have that dressing room opened myself and then we'll see once and for all just who is in there.  If you indeed wish to allay my suspicions, my Countess, perhaps you'd be kind enough to accompany me.

Looking too nervous to disagree, the Countess follows him out of the room, the Count locking the door behind them.  Susanna instantly springs into action, leaping up from behind the bed and BARREL ROLLING her way across the room.  She knocks hastily on the dressing room door, having figured out Cherubino is in there.

SUSANNA: Cherubino?  It's Susanna – you can open the door; His Lordship is gone!

The door opens and Cherubino stumbles out, various odds and ends hanging off him.

CHERUBINO: Wh-what can I do?!  If the Count finds me, he'll kill me!

SUSANNA: It won't come to that!  We'll get you away safely somehow.

CHERUBINO: (trying to open the door to the servants' quarters) Um, yeah, small problem . . . THE DOOR'S LOCKED!

SUSANNA: (trying the other door) And this one as well?!  Heavens, what now?

CHERUBINO: . . . THE WINDOW!

So saying, he rushes to the window and throws it open.  Susanna immediately grabs him.

SUSANNA: Are you mad?  It's far too high – the fall will kill you!

CHERUBINO: I'd rather that than death-by-Count! (He frees himself from Susanna's grasp) Please, let me go – I have to do this!  No matter what happens, I'll be fine!

SUSANNA: You can't . . . !

CHERUBINO: Please embrace Godmamma for me!  And tell Barbarina that I really hope she and I can . . . look at her snail collection again.  And you . . . oh, you already know!

He kisses Susanna then clambers up onto the windowsill.

SUSANNA: No, wait

Cherubino leaps heroically out of the window . . . and promptly crashes against the roof, dislodging several roof tiles and an ornamental gargoyle; he tumbles over the edge and falls, screaming, until he crashes inelegantly into the garden.

SUSANNA: (watching from the window) Ooooh . . . ouch!

Apparently unfazed, Cherubino jumps to his feet . . . and steps into a steel bear trap which snaps shut around his ankle.

CHERUBINO: FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU –

SUSANNA: Keep going, Cherubino!  That's it, kid – hobble!  Hobble for your life!

And hobble he does, until he slowly disappears beyond the perimeter of the estate.  Susanna watches him go, then closes the window and makes her way to the dressing room.

SUSANNA: I'll wait in here and scare that Count good and proper!  It's no less than he deserves!

She enters the dressing room and closes the door, just as the Count and Countess return.  The Count is holding a crowbar and a club; behind him, the Countess moves slowly, looking noticeably anxious.

COUNTESS: M-my lord, wait . . . Susanna isn't the one in the dressing room . . .

COUNT: So it is a dog you're hiding in there?  Most agreeable – kicking mutts is one of my favourite pastimes!

COUNTESS: N-no, it's not that either . . . but my lord, it's someone who does not deserve your suspicion, I promise!  We were just preparing a harmless little diversion when we were interrupted by your arrival, so he saw fit to hide . . .

COUNT: "He"?!  Pray, who is it?  I'll kill him!

COUNTESS: No, you mustn't – he is but a child!

COUNT: (genuinely baffled) A child?

COUNTESS: Yes . . . Cherubino.

She immediately bites her tongue in regret as the Count turns several shades of red and purple simultaneously.

COUNT: Am I cursed to never be rid of that boy?!  Why the devil is he still here?  He ought to be in Seville with the rest of the regiment by now! (He points an accusatory finger at the Countess) NOW I SEE WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!

COUNTESS: No, my lord!  I promise it's not what you're thinking!

COUNT: I'm sure I don't know what I'm thinking – I've just always wanted to say that!

Having said this, turns furiously towards the dressing room door.

COUNT: Cherubino, get out here now!  You're about to part ways with your underdeveloped manhood!

COUNTESS: M-my lord, please listen!  He was only here because of the diversion we'd planned – what I told you about earlier!  We were dressing him up as a girl for . . . f-for a laugh!  That's all, I promise!

COUNT: Faithless woman, you disgust me!  Get out of my sight!

COUNTESS: (tearfully) I-I've done nothing . . . please, my lord . . .

COUNT: (advancing on the dressing room) That boy will die!

He raises the crowbar, ready to jam it between the door and the doorframe.  Horrified, the Countess shields her eyes and turns away.  Just before the Count can open the door, it suddenly opens from the inside and Susanna calmly steps out, pretending to not notice the two nobles.

COUNT: S-Susanna!

COUNTESS: (turning) Susanna?!

They both stare open-mouthed at the maid as she closes the door and makes her way across the room, finally noticing the Count.

SUSANNA: Oh, did I surprise you, my lord?  Who were you expecting?  Your son from the future who ultimately turns out to not be your son, but the child Madame had with – (Here she claps a hand over her mouth) Whoops, spoilers!  Sorry!

INVERTED-JABBERWOCKY: It's kind of cute that she's concerned about spoiling a three-hundred-year-old play.

The Count continues to gape before slowly recovering his ability to speak.

COUNT: And . . . and . . . you were alone in the dressing room?

SUSANNA: (brightly) Why, see for yourself, sir!

Still somewhat suspicious, the Count goes to explore the dressing room.  The shock seems too much for the Countess, who reels, gasping; Susanna catches her just as her legs give out from beneath her and eases her down onto the settee.

SUSANNA: Don't worry about Cherubino, Madame – he got away and he's fine.  Well, aside from almost having his foot amputated . . . to say nothing of the infection that undoubtedly will set in later, and that's sure to lead to gangrene . . . but the important thing is that he got away!

COUNTESS: (shakily) He's . . . he's safe?  Oh, thank goodness!

The Count suddenly emerges from the dressing room, looking uncharacteristically chastened.

COUNT: It truly was only Susanna in there . . . (He turns to the Countess) My dear, do forgive me!

SUSANNA: . . . you're kidding, right?

COUNT: On the contrary, I've never been so serious about anything in my life!

COUNTESS: But . . .

COUNT: Besides, they're always saying that forgiveness is something you do for your own sake as much as for the one who wronged you – think of yourself for a change!

COUNTESS: Ooh, Susanna, what should I do?

SUSANNA: Were I in your shoes, I'd give him a good flaying, much the way one would a sheep.  I'm more than happy to help you do that, if need be!

COUNTESS: Is that . . . legal?

SUSANNA: Who cares about legality – at times like this, you just have to take one for the sisterhood, Madame!

COUNTESS: (trying to convince herself more than the maid) I . . . I will be strong, Susanna . . .

She gathers herself and turns to the Count.

COUNTESS: My lord, my forgiveness must be earned.

COUNT: But Rosina, I –

COUNTESS: No!  How can you even stand to be in the same room as me?  The very sight of me disgusts you, does it not?

COUNT: It was simply a misunders –

COUNTESS: I show nothing but the utmost faith to you and this is how you repay me?

COUNT: Susanna, say something to her, would you?

SUSANNA: You know as well as I that there's no talking to her when she gets like this.

COUNT: All right, I concede – you played me for the fool that I am, but jokes like that aren't amusing when one finds one's self on the receiving end!

SUSANNA: Careful you don't hurt your brain coming up with those big words, my lord.

COUNT: Lying about the page being in the dressing room, and your distress . . . it was all a great hoax you were playing on me?

COUNTESS: Er . . . a hoax, yes . . .

COUNT: And that letter, too?

COUNTESS AND SUSANNA: Figaro wrote it and gave it to Basilio to pass onto you.

They both stop and stare at each other, surprised at having spoken simultaneously.

SUSANNA: . . . did we just perform a mind-meld?

COUNT: Those two were also involved in this?!  Traitors!  They'll pay –

COUNTESS: That temper is all the more proof of how unworthy you are of forgiveness!

COUNT: What more do you want from me?  I've acknowledged that I've wronged you and am repentant – have mercy!

COUNTESS: (crestfallen) Oh, Susanna . . . I can't be so cruel to him . . .

SUSANNA: Yes, you can – you're stronger than this; don't think you are, know you are!

The doors are suddenly thrown open and Figaro flies into the room, bubbling with excitement.

FIGARO: Oh, you're all here!  Fantastic!  The musicians have just arrived, the cake is almost finished, the crowd is assembled and the garden looks most beautiful!  Our wedding is imminent!  Oh, I'm so happy, I could just dance!

So saying, he joyously catches Susanna in his arms and briefly twirls her around.

COUNT: Before you get too carried away, perhaps you can help clear something up for me. (aside) Little do they know, I'm still holding all the cards . . . and they are all Full Houses!

Figaro warily approaches the Count, who thrusts the letter in his face.

COUNT: Pray, tell me what this looks like to you, Segñor Figaro.

FIGARO: Well, to be honest it looks like . . . chicken scratch.

COUNT: Don't try to fool me – you know what this letter is, don't you?

FIGARO: No, sir, I can't say I've seen this before.

SUSANNA: (trying to clue Figaro in) You wrote this letter and gave it to Basilio, remember?

COUNTESS: Yes, it was all about a tryst in the garden tonight, wasn't it?

COUNT: You see!  So, do you confess?

FIGARO: (now legitimately confused) Confess to what?  I literally have no idea what you're talking about!

Susanna briefly takes Figaro aside.

SUSANNA: Just stop talking – you're only digging yourself deeper!  Madame and I already told His Lordship the truth about the letter.

FIGARO: Well, how did you expect me to know that?

Antonio suddenly blunders into the room, looking quite inebriated.

ANTONIO: My lord, my lord!  You must help me!  It's terrible!

COUNT: What's so terrible?  Caterpillars got into your cabbages again?

ANTONIO: Something that looked very like a mezzo in drag flew out of the window and destroyed my precious carnations!

SUSANNA: Oh, Uncle . . . you've forgotten to have your morning coffee again, haven't you?

ANTONIO: That's true, I haven't but . . . HEY!  DON'T PATRONISE ME!

FIGARO: We can smell the booze on your breath from here, old man!

COUNT: Let the man speak!  Someone jumped out the window, you say?  Pray, who?

ANTONIO: I confess I did not see their face . . .

SUSANNA: (to Figaro) Do you know about Cherubino?

FIGARO: Yes, I saw him hobbling across the garden.  Escaping, was he?

COUNTESS: (to Figaro) It was he who jumped!

FIGARO: . . . yes, I'd gathered that . . .

COUNTESS: Heaven help us if my husband should find out what happened . . .

FIGARO: (aside) An idea! (aloud) Why so upset, old man?  It was none other than I who jumped out the window!

COUNT: You?  What reason could you possibly have to do such a thing?

FIGARO: You ever get the urge to just do something stupid and awesome?  And I mean "awesome" in the proper sense of the word – incredibly, amazingly, breathtakingly, jaw-droppingly, pants-wettingly terrifying!

ANTONIO: But the person who jumped stepped right into an open bear trap – I saw it with my own eyes!

FIGARO: Yes, well . . . a rather mad Antipodean who called herself Claire came rushing out of the forest and popped the trap off my ankle!

ANTONIO: Wait, wait, wait just one cotton-picking second here!  Why did you look so very much like the page before you jumped?  Answer me that!

COUNT: Cherubino was here?!

FIGARO: Er . . . yes!  I saw him too – he was sitting astride that pretty orange mare.  What's it called again?  Applejack?

ANTONIO: It's one crazy after another with you people!  You're completely bananas if you expect me to believe a horse went flying out the window too!

COUNTESS: Don't be ridiculous!  Everyone knows there aren't any Pegasi on the estate!

Antonio is silent for a moment, looking quite perplexed, then fishes a piece of paper from his pocket.

ANTONIO: Well, if it was you who jumped . . . this document must be yours.

FIGARO: O-oh, yes indeed!  I'll just –

COUNT: (taking the paper before Figaro can) I'll have that, thank you!

In the audience, NatureTheZafara clings onto Inverted-Jabberwocky in panic; WitchChao, having no one to cling to, throws his arms around himself.

COUNT: (turning the paper over in his hands) And what is this?

ANTONIO: A list of all those he's indebted to, I'll stake my own life on it!

SUSANNA: Hold your tongue, Uncle!

FIGARO: You couldn't be further off the mark if you tried . . . it's something far more important . . .

ANTONIO: And yet you can't tell us what it is, hmm?

COUNT: Let the man speak, foolish garden-tender!  In fact, leave us be right now!

ANTONIO: Ugh, fine, I'll go.  But if I catch the valet pulling another Peter Pan stunt . . .

SUSANNA: (pushing Antonio out the door) Uncle, go home – you're just embarrassing yourself.  And make sure you drink some coffee this time!

FIGARO: . . . what in the heck is a "Peter Pan"?

COUNT: And now that nuisance has been dealt with . . . I believe we were on the subject of this paper you had in your possession, Figaro.

FIGARO: Ah, yes, about that . . . um . . .

The Countess chances a peek over the Count's shoulder, then discreetly whispers to Figaro.

COUNTESS: It's Cherubino's commission paper!  He must have dropped it!

FIGARO: Of course, how silly of me to forget!  It's the page's commission!  He gave it to me when I saw him, shortly after I leapt out the window.

COUNT: . . . what possible reason could the boy have had to give this to you?

FIGARO: Oh!  Um, uh . . . how to say . . . it needed, uh . . .

COUNT: Go on.  "It needed . . . "

COUNTESS: (to herself, suddenly remembering) Ah-ha!  I knew it was too important to be a red herring!

She gives a sudden cough that sounds suspiciously like "The seal was missing!".

FIGARO: Oh!  Why, of course, the seal was missing from the commission!  It's customary to stamp these official documents, isn't it?

Frustrated at being foiled, the Count turns away and crumples the paper.

COUNT: These people will be the death of me!

The doors are suddenly flung open, and in march Marcellina, Bartolo and Don Basilio.

BARTOLO: AND THIS TIME NO DAMNED MOUSE WILL STOP ME!

MARCELLINA: (to the Count) My good sir, you are just!  Listen to my woes!

SUSANNA: Not these three again . . .

BARTOLO: Silence, maid!  Listen to an old woman's troubles!

He whips out a handkerchief and is in the process of wiping away crocodile tears when his gaze suddenly falls upon the Countess.

BARTOLO: Heavens above!  Is that my little Rosina?

COUNTESS: The very same, Doctor.

BARTOLO: (looking her up and down with a rather lascivious expression) My, how they've grown . . .

Flushing with a combination of shame and revulsion, the Countess hastily turns away.  The Count, seemingly in his own world, manages to miss the exchange completely.

COUNT: (aside) At last, Lady Luck smiles upon me! (aloud) Oh, but of course, my friends!  Come and tell me what ails you!

MARCELLINA: (pointing accusingly at Figaro) I lent this man here two thousand crowns and he promised to marry me should he be unable to repay the debt!  And I tell you, sir, I have not seen even a single coin from him since then! (She thrusts a document at the Count) I have all the details written down here; all you need do is ratify it, sir!

FIGARO: Lies!  I owe this woman nothing!

COUNT: (holding the document the wrong way round) Silence!  I am trying to read here!

BARTOLO: I am here to provide Her Marcelliness with counsel.  And because I don't do mates rates, she's paying me an obscenely large amount of money for it!

COUNTESS: I know full well you are here for one thing only. (She turns to the Count) My lord, surely you remember how obnoxious this man was when you and I first met.

COUNT: Hush!  I thought I ordered you all to be silent!

BASILIO: I'm just here because I was bored and thought I'd tag along in case something fun happened.

SUSANNA: My lord, you can't put any stock in anything these people say – they're all as batty as my uncle when he hasn't any caffeine in his system!

COUNT: For the last time, shut up or I will yank your tongues clean out of your heads!

MARCELLINA: At last!  I've won!

FIGARO: . . . we're ruined!  This was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives!

BARTOLO: (to himself) RICH!  RICH!  I'LL BE FILTHY RICH!

COUNTESS: Please, my lord, consider what a momentous day this is for Figaro and be merciful!

COUNT: (not looking up from the document) Mercy is not compatible with reading.

BASILIO: (writing notes) What a feature article this will make!  I can just see the rave reviews now!

MARCELLINA: (batting her eyelashes) Shall I start planning what I'll wear to our wedding, Figaro?

SUSANNA: Madame, permission to tear that old cow to shreds with my bare hands?

MARCELLINA: Bring it on, baby!

The scene draws to a close as Figaro is barely able to keep the livid Susanna and taunting Marcellina apart, with the Count and Bartolo looking on in amusement, the Countess in horror, and Basilio thoroughly absorbed in his note-writing.

Before the curtain closes fully, the entire audience surges out of the theatre, presumably to be first in line to pick up the drinks that they ordered pre-show.
Act I
Act III
Act IV



Act two of Smooth Operators’ parody of Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro.

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Comments7
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firelord-zuko's avatar
"Suck my Rosenkavalier". Best. Line. Ever. Also, the Countess seems Dangerously Genre Savvy.