In the words of the Duke of Nivernais, “In the first act Clarendon is a scoundrel who has deceived a young girl of good family by a false marriage, he prepares to wed another, and this is the man, who in the end finds grace in the eyes of Eugénie, a being who interests us. It requires a great deal of preparation to arrive at this conclusion.” This was the whole difficulty, and though Beaumarchais retouched as best he could the character of Clarendon, making as much as possible of the extenuating circumstances, and emphasizing his hesitation and remorse, the play remains weak in this respect.
The English imitation before spoken of, rectifies this difficulty by altering the rôle of Clarendon. In the advertisement, the author says, however, “I have not dared to deviate from the gentle, interesting Eugénie of Beaumarchais.”
The play finally was given for the first time, January 29th, 1767. In the “Année Littéraire” of that year this passage occurs: “Eugénie, played for the first time January the 29th of this year, was badly received by the public and its reception had all the appearance of a failure; it has raised itself since with brilliancy, through omissions and corrections; it occupied the public for a long time and
this success greatly honors the comedians.”
“The changes made by Beaumarchais between the first and second representations were sufficient,” says Loménie, “to bring into relief the first three acts, which contain many beautiful parts, and which announced already a rare talent of mise en scène and of dialogue. The refined, distinguished acting of an amiable young actress, Mlle. Doligny, who represented Eugénie, contributed not a little to save the drama and make it triumph brilliantly over the danger that threatened its first representation.”
Beaumarchais had gained the public ear, but not the critics. As Lintilhac says: “The enterprise did not proceed without scandal, for at the second representation instead of hissing, the public weeps. The critic enraged at the success of the piece cried, ‘It is all the fault of the women—talk to them of Eugénie; it is they who have perverted the taste of our dear young people.’ Nevertheless the piece endures in the face of censures and cabals.—He managed his dramatic affairs quite as cleverly as the others. Abuse goes along with success, tant mieux! So much the better, it gives him the opportunity of lashing criticism with witty replies, which he prints with his play in a long preface of justification.”
“Into what a wasps’ nest you have put your head,” said Diderot to him.
Gudin observes, “He was not one to be frightened at their buzzing, or to stop on his way to kill flies. He was busying himself with a new drama.”
That this first production, “This child of my sensibility,” as he called it, was always dear to his heart is proved by the fact that years afterwards Beaumarchais gave the name of Eugénie to his only daughter, of whom we shall have much to say later on.
But in the meantime, an event occurred which for a period of two years had an important bearing on his life. To quote Gudin: “It was about this time that Madam B., celebrated for her beauty, came one day to find the sister of Beaumarchais and asked her what her brother was doing as she had not seen him for a long time.