Mlle. Luzzi—“But I am like Rosine, I shall tremble.”
Le Comte—“We will judge if the air might have given pleasure.”
“Quand dans la plaine
L’amour ramène
Le printemps
Si chéri des amants,
Tout reprend l’être
Son feu pénètre
Dans les fleurs
Et dans les jeunes cœurs.
On voit les troupeaux
Sortir des hameaux;
Dans tous les coteaux
Les cris des agneaux
Retentissent;
Ils bondissent;
Tout fermente,
Tout augmente;
Les brebis paissent
Les fleurs qui naissent;
Les chiens fidèles
Veillent sur elles;
Mais Lindor enflammé
Ne songe guère
Qu’au bonheur d’être aimé
De sa bergère.”
Le Comte—“Very pretty, on my honor.”
Figaro—“It is a charming song.”
Beaumarchais was so far content. He had proved his point and had triumphed over friends and enemies alike. A far more difficult matter remained, however, to be settled. It was one that would have frightened a less intrepid character than that of our author, but obstacles, as we have seen in many previous instances, only served to strengthen
his determination to conquer, which in this instance, as in most others, he did in the end.
When Beaumarchais demanded of the Théâtre-Français a statement verified and signed as to his share of the profits from the representation of the Barbier de Séville, no one knew better than he the magnitude of the innovation which he was committing.
The alarmed comedians, who had never in their lives made out an accurate account and who had not the remotest intention of yielding to the demand, endeavored by every possible means to put him off. The money that they sent and the unsigned memoranda which accompanied it, were all promptly but politely returned with the reiterated statement, most obligingly and cleverly turned and always in some new form, that it was not the money which was wanted, but a verified and signed account which could serve as a model for all future occasions, when it became a matter of business transaction between authors and comedians.