composers of a hundred years ago. But the serenade which follows the
rising of the curtain preserves a custom more general at the time of
Beaumarchais than now, though it is not yet obsolete. Dr. Bartolo,
who is guardian of the fascinating Rosina, is in love with her, or
at least wishes for reasons not entirely dissociated from her money
bags to make her his wife, and therefore keeps her most of the time
behind bolts and bars. The Count Almaviva, however, has seen her on
a visit from his estates to Seville, becomes enamoured of her, and
she has felt her heart warmed toward him, though she is ignorant of
his rank and knows him only under the name of Lindoro. Hoping that
it may bring him an opportunity for a glance, mayhap a word with his
inamorata, Amaviva follows the advice given by Sir Proteus to Thurio
in "The Two Gentlemen of Verona"; he visits his lady's chamber
window, not at night, but at early dawn, with a "sweet concert," and
to the instruments of Fiorello's musicians tunes "a deploring dump."
It is the cavatina "Ecco ridente in cielo." The musicians, rewarded
by Almaviva beyond expectations, are profuse and long-winded
in their expression of gratitude, and are gotten rid of with
difficulty. The Count has not yet had a glimpse of Rosina, who is
in the habit of breathing the morning air from the balcony of her
prison house, and is about to despair when Figaro, barber and
Seville's factotum, appears trolling a song in which he recites his
accomplishments, the universality of his employments, and the great
demand for his services. ("Largo al factotum dello citta.") The
Count recognizes him, tells of his vain vigils in front of Rosina's
balcony, and, so soon as he learns that Figaro is a sort of man
of all work to Bartolo, employs him as his go-between. Rosina
now appears on the balcony. Almaviva is about to engage her in
conversation when Bartolo appears and discovers a billet-doux which
Rosina had intended to drop into the hand of her Lindoro. He demands