“To assemble all the council of lawyers,” says Beaumarchais, “and name commissioners to consult as to whether an exact account should be sent me, duly signed, seemed to me a very strange proceeding.”
The comedians were, however, in no hurry to act. The 14th of February, 1777, they wrote to their troublesome friend.
“It is still a question of assembling the council. The circumstance of the carnival joined to the services which we are obliged to perform at court and in the city have prevented the frequent reunion of different persons who should occupy themselves in this affair....”
“I concluded from this letter,” says Beaumarchais, “that the Comédie was contented with me, but that the carnival seemed a bad time to occupy themselves with business. Letting the comedians, the lawyers, and their council dance in peace, I waited patiently until the end of Lent, but either they were still dancing, or doing penance for having danced, because I heard nothing from them.
“Four months rolled by in a profound sleep from which I was awakened June 1st, 1777.” The cause of Beaumarchais’s awakening was the sudden discovery that urgent requests from time to time to the comedians to play the Barbier met with constant refusal.
The 2nd of June he wrote a letter from which we extract the following, “If patience is a virtue, you have the right, Messieurs, to think me the most virtuous of men, but if you take the right to forget that you owe me for two or three years a verified account ... it is I who have the right
to be offended, because there are limits to the patience of even the most absurd....”
After a spirited recapitulation of his wrongs he continues, “In a word, Messieurs, you will give the piece, or you will not give it, it is not that which is important to-day. What is important is to put an end to so much indecision. Let us agree that if you accept I shall within eight days receive from you a certified account ... and when that term has expired, I may regard a silence on your part as an obstinate refusal to do me justice. You will not then object if, making a pious use of my rights as author, I confide the interests of the poor to those persons whose zeal and interests oblige them to discuss these interests more methodically than I, who profess to be always, with the greatest love of peace,... Yours, etc.,
“Beaumarchais.”
The comedians in their turn awakened by the letter just quoted replied before the expiration of the eight days, promising the much desired meeting. Beaumarchais accepted their proposal with his usual grace and himself fixed the day for the assembly. Fresh difficulties arose. The comedians wrote an apologetic letter asking for a further delay of a few days.