But the gem of the whole performance was undoubtedly Mlle. Contat’s impersonation of Suzanne, wherein she more than justified Beaumarchais’s confidence in her versatility, and astonished even her most devout admirers by the gaiety and entrain with which she sustained the part. As soon as the curtain fell, Préville ran up to her, and, embracing her, warmly exclaimed: “This is my first infidelity to Mlle. Dangeville!”
The verdict of the public was confirmed by the critics. “Mlle. Contat, in the rôle of Suzanne,” says the Mercure, “has established fresh claims to the applause of connoisseurs, by a performance frank, intelligent, and humorous.” “The demoiselle Contat,” says the Journal de Paris, “rendered Suzanne with the most piquant grace.” And—highest tribute of all—that most captious of critics, La Harpe, declared that she “rendered the part of Suzanne to perfection.”
From that evening Louise Contat stood forth as one of the brightest stars of the Comédie-Française and as a truly great actress.
At the time when she created the part of Suzanne in the Mariage de Figaro, Louise Contat was twenty-four years of age and in the zenith of her beauty. Without being tall, her figure was admirably proportioned, and “her whole person breathed an air of supreme distinction.” Her face, a charming oval, was illumined by a pair of beautiful eyes, “by turns languishing or flashing with mischief.” An exquisite mouth, perfect teeth, and a ravishing smile completed the picture, and enslaved all with whom she came in contact.
Yet her beauty was not perfect. “She is an admirable Venus,” says a pamphlet of the time, “cut by some great sculptor from a block of the purest marble. Only he had not time to finish his work, and entrusted the hands and feet to one of his workmen.”[156] Fortunately, she knew how to conceal these imperfections, and on the stage they passed unnoticed.
It is hardly necessary to remark that so fascinating and talented a young woman did not lack for both noble and wealthy adorers. But Mlle. Contat, in the early stages of her career, was of a romantic disposition, and her first lover possessed neither qualification. This much-envied individual was a certain Chevalier de Lubsac, an officer of the Royal Household, whose handsome face and ready wit more than atoned, in the lady’s eyes, for his empty purse and the brevity of his pedigree.
