the bridle stud
grazed my arm.

_Countess_--I never saw a ribbon used as a bandage before.

_Susanna_--Especially a _stolen_ ribbon. What may all those things
be--the curb, the curvetting, the bridle stud? [_Glances at his arms_.]
What white arms he has! just like a woman's. Madame, they are whiter
than mine.

_Countess_--Never mind that, but run and find me some oiled silk.

[_Susanna goes out, after humorously pushing Cherubino over so that he
falls forward on his hands. He and the Countess look at each other for
some time; then she breaks the silence_.]

_Countess_--I hope you are plucky enough. Don't show yourself before the
Count again to-day. We'll tell him to hurry up your commission in
his regiment.

_Cherubino_--I already have it, Madame. Basilio brought it to me. [_He
draws the commission from his pocket and hands it to her_.]

_Countess_--Already! They haven't lost any time. [_She opens it._] Oh,
in their hurry they've forgotten to add the seal to it.

_Susanna [returning with the oiled silk]_--Seal what?

_Countess_--His commission in the regiment.

_Susanna_--Already?

_Countess_--That's what I said.

_Susanna_--And the bandage?

_Countess_--Oh, when you are getting my things, take a ribbon from one
of _your_ caps. [_Susanna goes out again_]

_Countess_--This ribbon is of my favorite color. I must tell you I was
greatly displeased at your taking it.

_Cherubino_--That one would heal me quickest.

_Countess_--And--why so?

_Cherubino_--When a ribbon--has pressed the head, and--touched the skin
of one--

_Countess [hastily]_--Very strange--then it can cure wounds? I never
heard that before. I shall certainly try it on the first wound of any
of--my maids--

_Cherubino [sadly]_--I must go away from here!

_Countess_--But not for always? [_Cherubino begins to weep._] And now
you are crying! At that prediction of Figaro?

_Cherubino_--I'm just where he said I'd be. [_Some one knocks on the
door_].

_Countess_--Who can be knocking like that?

_The Count [outside]_--Open the door!

_Countess_--Heavens! It's my husband. Where can you hide?

_The Count [outside]_--Open the door, I say.

_Countess_--There's no one here, you see.

_The Count_--But who are you talking to then?

_Countess_--To you, I suppose. [_To Cherubino._] Hide yourself,
quick--in the dressing-room!

_Cherubino_--Ah, after this morning, he'd kill me if he found me _here_.

[_He runs into the dressing-room on