Later Queens of the French Stage

by H. Noel Williams

Madame Arnould, however, did not altogether approve of such haste, while Sophie shed tears enough to melt the heart of the sternest parent; and the matter, therefore, remained in abeyance. Nevertheless, the chevalier, encouraged by Madame de Conti, pressed his suit with ardour, dyed his eyebrows, rouged his cheeks, “shaved twice a day,” and, one fine morning, presented himself at the Arnoulds’ house, bearing the draft of a marriage-contract, in which the whole of his property, amounting to some 40,000 livres a year, was settled upon Sophie.

The prospect of so advantageous a settlement in life for her daughter was a temptation greater than any self-respecting mother could be expected to resist, and though M. Arnould declined to force the girl into a marriage which was distasteful to her, his wife lost no opportunity of sounding the praises of M. de Malézieux—or rather of M. de Malézieux’s income—in Sophie’s reluctant ear. That young lady, however, only pouted, and when her antiquated admirer strove to soften her heart towards him by citing the example of Madame de Maintenon, who, when a young and beautiful girl, no older than Sophie herself, had espoused the crippled poet Scarron, replied, laughing: “I will make a similar marriage to-morrow, on condition that my husband will begin by being a cripple, and end by being a king.”[5]

And so poor M. de Malézieux’s contract was never signed, and no alternative now remained for Madame Arnould but to allow Sophie to enter the Opera, trusting that, for some time to come, her services would only be required for the Concerts of Sacred Music which were given during Lent. This hope, however, was not realised, for the directors of the Opera happened to be just at that time on the look-out for some novelty to divert the attention of their patrons from the mediocrity of the pieces with which they had lately been provided, and, accordingly, on December 15, 1757, the young singer was called upon to make her first bow to the public.

It was a very modest début—merely the singing of an air introduced into an opera-ballet by Mouret, entitled Les Amours des Dieux.[6] Nevertheless, restricted as were the girl’s opportunities on this occasion, she quickly became a public favourite; indeed, the eagerness to see and hear her was so great that on the evenings on which she appeared, the doors of the theatre were besieged, and Fréron sarcastically observed that “he doubted whether people would give themselves so much trouble to enter Paradise.”

“Mlle. Arnould,” says the Mercure de France of the following January, which was but the feeble echo of the enthusiasm of the public, “continues her début in Les Amours des Dieux, with great and well-deserved success. She attracts the public to such an extent that the Thursday has become the most brilliant day at the Opera, altogether effacing the Friday. The second air which she sings affords her more scope for the display of her talent than the first. She possesses at once a charming face, a beautiful voice, and warmth of sentiment. She is full of expression and of soul. Her voice is not only tender, but passionate. In a word, she has received all the gifts of Nature, and, in order to perfect them, she receives all the resources of Art.”

At the beginning of the New Year, Sophie appeared in a second piece, called La Provençale, in which she confirmed the favourable impression she had created in Les Amours des Dieux. “Mlle. Arnould,” says the Mercure, “sang the Provençale with the ingenuous charm of her age. In this rôle she had only one important song. It is the monologue (‘Mer paisible’...), into which she threw all the expression that it demanded. The crowded houses which have followed it up to Lent are proofs of the pleasure which she gives the public.”

In the following April the young actress reaped the reward of her success by receiving her first important part, that of Venus in Énée et Lavinie, a tragic opera in five acts by Fontenelle, music by Dauvergne.[7] The confidence reposed in her was not misplaced, and she received as much applause as she had previously obtained in ariettas and pastorals. Such was her success indeed that she was speedily promoted to the principal rôle, and the admiring critic of the Mercure, who had already spoken in high terms of the new singer’s rendering of Venus, consecrated to her the following article:

“On Tuesday, April 13, Mlle. Arnould played the rôle of Lavinie for the first time. Her success was complete. The tragic indeed seems to be the genre most suited to her. It is, at any rate, that in which she has appeared to most advantage. Her gestures are noble without arrogance and expressive without grimaces. Her acting is vivacious and animated, and yet never departs from the natural. This excellent actress has already partially corrected herself of a kind of slowness, which is only suitable to the arietta. Bad examples had led her astray. We invite her to pay heed to no one but herself, if she wishes to approach nearer and nearer to perfection.”

“So great a success renders it almost needless for us to observe that Mlle. Arnould has retained this rôle; that she has brought back the public to the Opera; finally, that she has adorned Énée et Lavinie with an appearance of novelty.”

Some months later the Mercure returns to the subject of Énée et Lavinie, and observes that Mlle. Arnould played the latter part “with that intelligence, that dignity, those natural and touching graces which enchant the public.” “Happily,” continues the critic, “she has depended upon her own impulses before allowing herself to be intimidated by all the little prejudices of the art. Model as a débutante, she reanimates the lyric stage and appears to communicate her soul to those who have the modesty and the talent to imitate her.”