In the second act Pantea lands with the goose in a violent storm. It is a fair-day, and the assembled people are full of amazement at the natural and rational movements of the goose, which is supposed to come from Cairo. Auretta and Chichibio inform Don Pippo of the wonderful sight. He causes Pantea to come forward, and she informs him that the goose having lost its speech from fright during the storm can only be restored by the use of a certain herb growing in a lonely garden. Don Pippo, delighted, commissions Calandrino to take Pantea and the goose into the pleasure-garden, that so the two maidens may enjoy the spectacle. The finale represents the fair close to the tower, the two ladies looking on from the window. A dispute arises, in which Biondello takes part; Don Pippo, as magistrate, is called on to do justice; some ridiculous action is carried on, ending in a general tumult. Pantea then puts Biondello into the goose and enters the garden, while Calandrino informs Don Pippo that Biondello, in despair, has set out to sea in a small boat, which is confirmed by the weeping Auretta. Don Pippo, in high delight, forms a ludicrous wedding procession and proceeds to the tower, where Celidora and Lavina stand at the window while the goose makes various antics for the amusement of the crowd. Finally, Don Pippo appears in the great hall of the tower, accompanied by the two maidens and the goose, in full confidence of his triumph, and only waiting the arrival of Count Lionetto to celebrate the wedding. Chichibio enters with an uncourteous refusal from the Count. As Don Pippo is in the act of giving his hand to Lavina, Pantea advances in her true person, the goose begins to speak, opens, and Biondello steps out; Don Pippo is beside himself, and is ridiculed by them all; he ends by promising to amend his ways, and the three couples are made happy.
No doubt this summarised account has omitted to take note of many comic and effective touches; but on the other hand it has suppressed many absurdities--the general impression of a fantastic and senseless plot not being affected
by the treatment of the details. In the first glow of delight at having a new libretto, Mozart set to work composing at once in Salzburg, and after his return to Vienna he anticipated different scenes that interested him; but he was soon seized with misgivings that the opera could not be put on the stage without important alterations. He wrote on the subject to his father (December 6, 1783):--