V
JUSTINE FAVART
TOWARDS the end of the reign of Louis XIV., there lived in the Rue de la Verrerie, in Paris, a pastry-cook named Charles Paul Favart. No ordinary pastry-cook was Charles Paul; he was a man of parts and a poet; but a poet of an unusually practical turn of mind, inasmuch as, instead of contributing sonnets to the Mercure, he was in the habit of utilising his talent to advertise the excellence of his wares, with the result that his buns[118] and cakes were famed throughout the length and breadth of Paris.
The enterprising pastry-cook might have amassed a comfortable fortune, had he been content with the profits of his trade. But, unhappily, he became involved in the craze for speculating in Mississippi stock; and, on his death, his wife and two children found themselves almost unprovided for. The eldest of these children, a boy named Charles Simon, who had inherited the paternal turn for verses, was at this time pursuing his studies at the famous college of Louis-le-Grand, where he had already gained some little distinction. Forced to abandon the cultivation of the Muses to take charge of his father's business, which, though burdened with debt, still remained to them, he nevertheless contrived, in the intervals of making pastry, to compose a poem on La France délivrée par la pucelle d'Orléans, which, in 1733, was awarded the prize of the Académie des Jeux Floraux. He had already, in collaboration with another young poet, written a piece called Polinchinelle, comte de Paonfier, performed at the Fair of Saint-Germain; and, in the following year, he submitted to the Opéra-Comique a vaudeville, entitled Les Deux Jumelles, which was produced on March 22, and met with a very favourable reception.
Next day, while Favart, girt with his apron, his shirt-sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a square cap on his head, and a larding-pin in his hand, was working in his shop in the Rue de la Verrerie, a coach drove up to the door, out of which stepped an elderly gentleman, very richly dressed, who inquired for M. Favart, the author of Les Deux Jumelles. Poor Favart, ashamed for the moment of revealing his identity, replied that he would go and summon him, and, running up to his bedroom, hastily removed the signs of his trade, rolled down his shirt-sleeves, donned his best coat, and returned to the shop to greet his amused visitor.
The latter, it transpired, was a wealthy farmer-general,[119] who had a fancy for playing the part of Mæcenas. He had been present at the performance at the Opéra-Comique, the previous evening, and had been so charmed with the piece that he had made inquiries concerning its author, and, on learning that he was a young man without means of his own, had resolved to offer him his protection. "I have myself," said he, "been on bad terms with Fortune; but she has ended by caressing me, and I find no better way of using her favours than to employ them to the advantage of the arts and literature."
Thanks to the assistance of the generous financier, Favart was enabled to relinquish his business and devote himself entirely to play-writing. In the course of the next few years, he provided the lesser theatres with more than a score of pieces, one of which, La Chercheuse d'esprit, played at the Opéra-Comique, in 1741, met with extraordinary success. Up to this time, Favart's pieces had appeared anonymously, but, encouraged by the enthusiastic reception accorded to the play in question, he now decided to emerge from his shell, and, in accordance with this resolution, gave a dinner to some of the most noted beaux esprits and authors of the time. Among those present was Crébillon père, who received, with his invitation, a delicate specimen of the dramatist's culinary skill, an attention which he acknowledged by the following quatrain:—
| "Il est un auteur en crédit, |
| Dont la muse a le don de plaire: |
| Il fit la Chercheuse d'esprit, |
| Il n'en chercha point pour la faire." |