She can't take a lesson this evening, Señor:
you must postpone it.
you must postpone it.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v03 - Bag to Ber
Being a
fine musician, he was appointed instructor of the King's daughters;
and he was quick to turn to good account the influence thus acquired.
In 1764 he made a sudden trip to
Spain to vindicate a sister of his, who
had been betrothed to a man called
Clavijo and whom this Spaniard had
refused to marry. He succeeded in
his mission, and his own brilliant ac-
count of this characteristic episode in
his career suggested to Goethe the
play of Clavigo. ' Beaumarchais him-
self brought back from Madrid a liking
for things Spanish and a knowledge
of Iberian customs and character.
He had been a watchmaker, a musi-
cian, a court official, a speculator, and
it was only when he was thirty-five
BEAUMARCHAIS
that he turned dramatist. Various
French authors, Diderot especially, weary of confinement to tragedy
and comedy, the only two forms then admitted on the French stage,
were seeking a new dramatic formula in which they might treat pa-
thetic situations of modern life; and it is due largely to their efforts
that the modern “play” or “drama,” the story of every-day exist-
ence, has been evolved. The first dramatic attempt of Beaumarchais
was a drama called 'Eugénie,' acted at the Théâtre Français in 1767,
and succeeding just enough to encourage him to try again. The sec-
ond, The Two Friends, acted in 1770, was a frank failure. For the
pathetic, Beaumarchais had little aptitude; and these two serious
efforts were of use to him only so far as their performance may have
helped him to master the many technical difficulties of the theatre.
## p. 1658 (#456) ###########################################
1658
BEAUMARCHAIS
Beaumarchais had married a second time in 1768, and he had
been engaged in various speculations with the financier Pâris-Duver-
ney. In 1770 his wife died, and so did his associate; and he found
himself soon involved in lawsuits, into the details of which it is need-
less to go, but in the course of which he published a series of
memoirs, or statements of his case for the public at large. These
memoirs are among the most vigorous of all polemical writings; they
were very clever and very witty; they were vivacious and audacious;
they were unfailingly interesting; and they were read as eagerly as
the Letters of Junius. ' Personal at first, the suits soon became
political; and part of the public approval given to the attack of
Beaumarchais on judicial injustice was due no doubt to the general
discontent with the existing order in France. His daring conduct of
his own cause made him a personality. He was intrusted with one
secret mission by Louis XV. ; and when Louis XVI. came to the
throne, he managed to get him again employed confidentially.
Not long after his two attempts at the serious drama, he had tried
to turn to account his musical faculty by writing both the book and
the score of a comic opera, which had, however, been rejected by the
Comédie-Italienne (the predecessor of the present Opéra Comique).
After a while Beaumarchais cut out his music and worked over his
plot into a five-act comedy in prose, “The Barber of Seville. It was
produced by the Théâtre Français in 1775, and like the contemporary
(Rivals) of Sheridan, — the one English author with whom Beau-
marchais must always be compared, it was a failure on the first
night and a lasting success after the author had reduced it and rear-
ranged it. “The Barber of Seville) was like the Gil Blas) of Lesage
in that, while it was seemingly Spanish in its scenes, it was in real-
ity essentially French. It contained one of the strongest characters
in literature, — Figaro, a reincarnation of the intriguing servant of
Menander and Plautus and Molière. Simple in plot, ingenious in
incident, brisk in dialogue, broadly effective in character-drawing,
(The Barber of Seville) is the most famous French comedy of the
eighteenth century, with the single exception of its successor from
the same pen, which appeared nine years later.
During those years Beaumarchais was not idle. Like Defoe, he
was always devising projects for money-making. A few months after
( The Barber of Seville) had been acted, the American Revolution
began, and Beaumarchais was a chief agent in supplying the Ameri-
cans with arms, ammunition, and supplies. He had a cruiser of his
own, Le Fier Roderigue, which was in D'Estaing's feet. When the
independence of the United States was recognized at last, Beaumar-
chais had a pecuniary claim against the young nation which long
remained unsettled.
1
## p. 1659 (#457) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1659
Not content with making war on his own account almost, Beau-
marchais also undertook the immense task of publishing a complete
edition of Voltaire. He also prepared a sequel to the Barber,' in
which Figaro should be even more important, and should serve as a
mouthpiece for declamatory criticism of the social order. But his
'Marriage of Figaro' was so full of the revolutionary ferment that its
performance was forbidden. Following the example of Molière under
the similar interdiction of Tartuffe,' Beaumarchais was uintiring in
arousing interest in his unacted play, reading it himself in the houses
of the great.
Finally it was authorized, and when the first perform-
ance took place at the Théâtre Français in 1784, the crush to see it
was so great that three persons were stifled to death.
The new
comedy was as amusing and as adroit as its predecessor, and the hits
at the times were sharper and swifter and more frequent. How
demoralized society was then may be gauged by the fact that this
disintegrating satire was soon acted by the amateurs of the court,
a chief character being impersonated by Marie Antoinette herself.
The career of Beaumarchais reached its climax with the produc-
tion of the second of the Figaro plays. Afterward he wrote the
libretto for an opera, “Tarare,' produced with Salieri's music in 1787;
the year before he had married for the third time. In a heavy play
called “The Guilty Mother,' acted with slight success in 1790, he
brought in Figaro yet once more. During the Terror he emigrated
to Holland, returning to Paris in 1796 to find his sumptuous mansion
despoiled. May 18th, 1799, he died, leaving a fortune of $200,000,
besides numerous claims against the French nation and the United
States.
An interesting parallel could be drawn between “The Rivals) and
the School for Scandal' on the one side, and on the other (The
Barber of Seville) and “The Marriage of Figaro”; and there are also
piquant points of likeness between Sheridan and Beaumarchais. But
Sheridan, with all his failings, was of sterner stuff than Beaumarchais.
He had a loftier political morality, and he served the State more
loyally. Yet the two comedies of Beaumarchais are like the two
comedies of Sheridan in their incessant wit, in their dramaturgic
effectiveness, and in the histrionic opportunities they afford. Indeed,
the French comedies have had a wider audience than the English,
thanks to an Italian and a German, --- to Rossini who set (The Bar-
ber of Seville) to music, and to Mozart who did a like service for
"The Marriage of Figaro.
Foruder Mathers
## p. 1660 (#458) ###########################################
1660
BEAUMARCHAIS
FROM "THE BARBER OF SEVILLE)
OUTWITTING A GUARDIAN
[Rosina's lover, Count Almaviva, attempts to meet and converse with her
by hoodwinking Dr. Bartolo, her zealous guardian. He comes in disguise to
Bartolo's dwelling, in a room of which the scene is laid. ]
[Enter Count Almavira, dressed as a student. ]
Count [solemnly]— May peace and joy abide here evermore!
Bartolo [brusquely]— Never, young sir, was wish more àpro-
pos! What do you want ?
Count — Sir, I am one Alonzo, a bachelor of arts,
Bartolo— Sir, I need no instructor.
Count - -a pupil of Don Basilio, the organist of the con-
vent, who teaches music to Madame your—
Bartolo [suspiciously] — Basilio! Organist! Yes, I know him.
Well?
Count [asidi]— What a man! [Aloud. ] He's confined to his
bed with a sudden illness.
Bartolo -- Confined to his bed! Basilio! He's very good to
send word, for I've just seen him.
Count [aside]—Oh, the devil! [Aloud. ) When I say to his
bed, sir, it's— I mean to his room.
Bartolo_ Whatever's the matter with him, go, if you please.
Count [embarrassed]— Sir, I was asked — Can no one hear us?
Bartolo [aside] - It's some rogue! [Aloud. ) What's that?
No, Monsieur Mysterious, no one can hear! Speak frankly — if
you can.
Count [aside] - Plague take the old rascal! [Aloud. ] Don
Basilio asked me to tell you —
Bartolo-Speak louder. I'm deaf in one ear.
Count [raising his voice] — Ah! quite right: he asks me to say
to you that one Count Almaviva, who was lodging on the great
square —
Bartolo [frightened ]-Speak low, speak low.
Count [louder] - moved away from there this morning.
As it was I who told him that this Count Almaviva-
Bartolo— Low, speak lower, I beg of you.
Count [in the same tone) - Was in this city, and as I have
discovered that Señorita Rosina has been writing to him
## p. 1661 (#459) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1661
Bartolo— Has been writing to him? My dear friend, I im-
plore you, do speak low! Come, let's sit down, let's have a
friendly chat. You have discovered, you say, that Rosina –
Count [angrily] - Certainly. Basilio, anxious about this cor-
respondence on your account, asked me to show you her letter;
but the way you take things —
Bartolo - Good Lord! I take them well enough. But can't
you possibly speak a little lower ?
Count You told me you were deaf in one ear.
Bartolo - I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, if I've been
surly and suspicious, Signor Alonzo: I'm surrounded with spies -
and then your figure, your age, your whole air
I beg your
pardon. Well ? Have you the letter ?
Count — I'm glad you're barely civil at last, sir.
But are you
quite sure no one can overhear us?
Bartolo - Not a soul. My servants are all tired out. Señorita
Rosina has shut herself up in a rage! The very devil's to pay
in this house. Still I'll go and make sure. [He goes to peep
into Rosina's room. ]
Count [aside] - Well, I've caught myself now in my own trap. .
Now what shall I do about the letter? If I were to run off ?
but then I might just as well not have come. Shall I show it
to him? If I could only warn Rosina beforehand! To show it
would be a master-stroke.
Bartolo [returning on tiptoe] - She's sitting by the window
with her back to the door, and re-reading a cousin's letter which
I opened. Now, now - let me see hers.
Count [handing him Rosina's letter] – Here it is. [Aside. ]
She's re-reading my letter.
Bartolo [reads quickly] — “Since you have told me your name
and estate - » Ah, the little traitress! Yes, it's her writing.
Count [frightened ]-Speak low yourself, won't you ?
Bartolo - What for, if you please?
Count - When we've finished, you can do as you choose. But
after all, Don Basilio's negotiation with a lawyer -
Bartolo — With a lawyer ? About my marriage ?
Count –Would I have stopped you for anything else? He told
me to say that all can be ready to-morrow. Then, if she resists —
Bartolo - She will.
Count [wants to take back the letter; Bartolo clutches it]-
I'll tell you what we'll do. We will show her her letter; and
## p. 1662 (#460) ###########################################
1662
BEAUMARCHAIS
But how you
then, if necessary, [more mysteriously] i'll even tell her that it
was given to me by a woman to whom the Count is sacrificing
her. Shame and rage may bring her to terms on the spot.
Bartolo [laughing] - Calumny, eh? My dear fellow, I see very
well now that you come from Basilio. But lest we should seem
to have planned this together, don't you think it would be better
if she'd met you before ?
Count [repressing a start of joy] - Don Basilio thought so, I
know. But how can we manage it? It is late already. There's
not much time left.
Bartolo-I will tell her you've come in his place. Couldn't
you give her a lesson ?
Count -- I'll do anything you like. But take care she doesn't
suspect. All these dodges of pretended masters are rather old
and theatrical.
Bartolo She won't suspect if I introduce you.
do look! You've much more the air of a disguised lover than of
a zealous student-friend.
Count — Really? Don't you think I can hoodwink her all the
better for that ?
Bartolo— She'll never guess. She's in a horrible temper this
evening. -
But if she'll only see you -- Her harpsichord is in this
room. Amuse yourself while you're waiting. I'll do all I can to
bring her here.
Count — Don't say a word about the letter.
Bartolo— Before the right moment ? It would lose all effect
if I did. It's not necessary to tell me things twice; it's not
necessary to tell me things twice.
[He goes. ]
Count [alone, soliloquises] - At last I've won! Ouf!
What a
difficult little old imp he is! Figaro understands him. I found
myself lying, and that made me awkward; and he has eyes for
everything! On my honor, if the letter hadn't inspired me he'd
have thought me a fool! - Ah, how they are disputing in there!
What if she refuses to come ? Listen - If she won't, my com-
ing is all thrown away.
There she is: I won't show myself at
first.
(Rosina enters. ]
Rosina [angrily] – There's no use talking about it, sir. I've
made up my mind. I don't want to hear anything more about
music.
## p. 1663 (#461) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1663
Bartolo — But, my child, do listen! It is Señor Alonzo, the
friend and pupil of Don Basilio, whom he has chosen as one of
our marriage witnesses, I'm sure that music will calm you.
Rosina - Oh! you needn't concern yourself about that; and
as for singing this evening Where is this master you're so
afraid of dismissing? I'll settle him in a minute and Señor
Basilio too. [She sees her lover and exclaims :] Ah!
Bartolo Eh, eh, what is the matter ?
Rosina [pressing her hands to her heart]— Ah, sir! Ah, sir!
Bartolo — She is ill again! Señor Alonzo!
Rosina - No, I am not ill — but as I was turning - ah!
Count — Did you sprain your foot, Madame ?
Rosina — Yes, yes, I sprained my foot! I - hurt myself dread-
fully.
Count – So I perceived.
Rosina [looking at the Count] – The pain really makes me feel
faint.
Bartolo - A chair - a chair there! And not a single chair
here!
[He goes to get one. )
Count - Ah, Rosina !
Rosina What imprudence!
Count There are a hundred things I must say to you.
Rosina — He won't leave us alone.
Count - Figaro will help us.
Bartolo [bringing an arm-chair] - Wait a minute, my child.
Sit down here.
She can't take a lesson this evening, Señor:
you must postpone it. Good-by.
Rosina [to the Count]— No, wait; my pain is better. [To
Bartolo. ] I feel that I've acted foolishly! I'll imitate you, and
atone at once by taking my lesson.
Bartolo-Oh! Such a kind little woman at heart! But after
so much excitement, my child, I can't let you make any exer-
tion. So good-bye, Señor, good-bye.
Rosina [to the Count] - Do wait a minute! [To Bartolo. ] I
shall think that you don't care to please me if you won't let me
show my regret by taking my lesson.
Count [aside to Bartolo] - I wouldn't oppose her, if I were you.
Bartolo That settles it, my love: I am so anxious to please
you that I shall stay here all the time you are practicing.
Rosina - No, don't. I know you don't care for music.
Bartolo - It will charm me this evening, I'm sure.
## p. 1664 (#462) ###########################################
1664
BEAUMARCHAIS
Rosina [aside to the Count] - I'm tormented to death!
Count ſtaking a sheet of music from the stand]—Will you sing
this, Madame ?
Rosina — Yes, indeed — it's a very pretty thing out of the
opera The Useless Precaution. "
Bartolo — Why do you always sing from "The Useless Pre-
caution'?
Count - There is nothing newer! It's a picture of spring in a
very bright style. So if Madame wants to try it -
Rosina [looking at the Count]— With pleasure. A picture of
spring is delightful! It is the youth of nature.
. It seems as if
the heart always feels more when winter's just over. It's like a
slave who finds liberty all the more charming after a long con-
finement.
Bartolo [to the Count] - Always romantic ideas in her head!
Count [in a low tone] – Did you notice the application ?
Bartolo - Zounds!
[He sits down in the chair which Rosina has been occupying. Rosina sings,
during which Bartolo goes to sleep. Under cover of the refrain the
Count seizes Rosina's hand and covers it with kisses. In her emotion
she sings brokenly, and finally breaks off altogether. The sudden
silence awakens Bartolo. The Count starts up, and Rosina quickly
resumes her song: ]
So your
(Don Basilio enters. Figaro in background. ]
Rosina [startled, to herself]- Don Basilio!
Count [aside]— Good Heaven!
Figaro- The devil!
Bartolo [going to meet him]— Ah! welcome, Basilio.
accident was not very serious ? Alonzo quite alarmed me about
you. He will tell you that I was just going to see you, and if
he had not detained me
Basilio [in astonishment]— Señor Alonzo ?
Figaro [stamping his foot]— Well, well! How long must I
wait? Two hours wasted already over your beard - Miserable
business!
Basilio [looking at every one in amazement]— But, gentlemen,
will you please tell me
Figaro – You can talk to him after I've gone.
Basilio— But still, would
## p. 1665 (#463) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1665
Count – You'd better be quiet, Basilio. Do you think you
can inform him of anything new? I've told him that you sent
me for the music lesson instead of coming himself.
Basilio [still more astonished]— The music lesson! Alonzo!
Rosina [aside to Basilio] - Do hold your tongue, can't you?
Basilio- She, too!
Count [to Bartolo] - Let him know what you and I have
agreed upon.
Bartolo [aside to Basilio] - Don't contradict, and say that he
is not your pupil, or you will spoil everything.
Basilio - Ah! Ah!
Bartolo [aloud] – Indeed, Basilio, your pupil has a great deal
of talent.
Basilio [stupe fied] - My pupil! [In a low tone. ) I came to
tell you that the Count has moved.
Bartolo [low] - I know it. Hush.
Basilio [low] - Who told you ?
Bartolo [low] - He did, of course.
Count [low]— It was I, naturally. Just listen, won't you ?
Rosina (low to Basilio] - Is it so hard to keep still?
Figaro [low to Basilio] - Hum! The sharper! He is deaf!
Basilio [aside]— Who the devil are they trying to deceive
here? Everybody seems to be in it!
Bartolo [aloud]-Well, Basilio - about your lawyer - ?
Figaro - You have the whole evening to talk about the
lawyer.
Bartolo [to Basilio] - One word; only tell me if you are sat-
isfied with the lawyer.
Basilio [startled] — With the lawyer ?
Count (smiling] - Haven't you seen the lawyer ?
Basilio [impatient]- Eh? No, I haven't seen the lawyer.
Count [aside to Bartolo] - Do you want him to explain matters
before her ? Send him away.
Bartolo [low to the Count] – You are right. [To Basilio. ] But
what made you ill, all of a sudden ?
Basilio [angrily]—I don't understand you.
Count [secretly slipping a purse into his hands] — Yes: he
wants to know what you are doing here, when you are so far
from well ?
Figaro- He's as pale as a ghost!
Basilio - Ah! I understand.
III-105
## p. 1666 (#464) ###########################################
1666
BEAUMARCHAIS
Count — Go to bed, dear Basilio. You are not at all well, and
you make us all anxious. Go to bed.
Figaro - He looks quite upset. Go to bed.
Bartolo - I'm sure he seems feverish. Go to bed.
Rosina - Why did you come out? They say that it's catching.
Go to bed.
Basilio [in the greatest amazement] - I'm to go to bed!
All the others together -- Yes, you must.
Basilio [looking at them all] - Indeed, I think I will have to
withdraw. I don't feel quite as well as usual.
Bartolo - We'll look for you to-morrow, if you are better.
Count — I'll see you soon, Basilio.
Basilio [aside] - Devil take it if I understand all this! And
if it weren't for this purse -
All-Good-night, Basilio, good-night.
Basilio (going] - Very well, then; good-night, good-night.
[The others, all laughing, push him civilly out of the room. ]
FROM "THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO)
OUTWITTING A HUSBAND
[The scene is the boudoir of young Countess Almaviva, the Rosina of the
previous selection. She is seated alone, when her clever maid Susanna
ushers in the young page Cherubino, just banished from the house because
obnoxious to the jealous Count. )
Susanna — Here's our young Captain, Madame.
Cherubino [timidly]— The title is a sad reminder that — that
I must leave this delightful home and the godmother who has
been so kind-
Susanna - And so beautiful!
Cherubino [sighing] - Ah, yes!
Susanna (mocking his sigh] - Ah, yes! Just look at his hypo-
critical eyelids! Madame, make him sing his new song. [She
gives it to him. ] Come now, my beautiful bluebird, sing away.
Countess -- Does the manuscript say who wrote this -- song?
Susanna — The blushes of guilt betray him.
Cherubino- Madame, I--I-- tremble so.
Susanna - Ta, ta, ta, ta—! Come, modest author - since you
are so commanded. Madame, I'll accompany him.
Countess [to Susanna]— Take my guitar.
## p. 1667 (#465) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1667
[Cherubino sings his ballad to the air of Malbrouck. ' The Countess reads
the words of it from his manuscript, with an occasional glance at
him; he sometimes looks at her and sometimes lowers his eyes as he
sings. Susanna, accompanying him, watches them both, laughing. ]
Countess [folding the song]- Enough, my boy. Thank you.
It is very good — full of feeling-
Susanna — Ah! as for feeling - this is a young man who —
well!
[Cherubino tries to stop her by catching hold of her dress.
Susanna whispers to him]- Ah, you good-for-nothing! I'm going
to tell her. (Aloud. ] Well — Captain! We'll amuse ourselves by
seeing how you look in one of my dresses!
Countess - Susanna, how can you go on so?
Susanna [going up to Cherubino and measuring herself with
him] - He's just the right height. Off with your coat. [She
draws it off. ]
Countess - But what if some one should come ?
Susanna – What if they do? We're doing no wrong. But
I'll lock the door, just the same. [Locks it. ] I want to see him
in a woman's head-dress!
Countess — Well, you'll find my little cap in my dressing-room
on the toilet table.
more
[Susanna gets the cap, and then, sitting down on a stool, she makes Cheru-
bino kneel before her and arranges it on his hair. ]
Susanna — Goodness, isn't he a pretty girl ?
I'm jealous.
Cherubino, you're altogether too pretty.
Countess - Undo his collar a little; that will give a
feminine air. (Susanna loosens his collar so as to show his neck. ?
Now push up his sleeves, so that the under ones show more.
[While Susanna rolls up Cherubino's sleeves, the Countess notices
her lost ribbon around his wrist. ] What is that? My ribbon ?
Susanna - Ah! I'm very glad you've seen it, for I told him
I should tell. I sirould certainly have taken it away from him
if the Count hadn't come just then; for I am almost as strong
as he is.
Countess [with surprise, unrolling the ribbon]- There's blood
on it!
Cherubino - Yes, I was tightening the curb of my horse this
morning, he curvetted and gave me a push with his head, and
the bridle stud grazed my arm.
## p. 1668 (#466) ###########################################
1668
BEAUMARCHAIS
Countess - I never saw a ribbon used as a bandage before.
Susanna — Especially a stolen ribbon. What may all those
things be — the curb, the curvetting, the bridle stud? [Glances
at his arms. ] What white arms he has! just like a woman's.
Madame, they are whiter than mine.
Countess Never mind that, but run and find me some oiled
silk.
[Susanna goes out, after humorously pushing Cherubino aver so that he
falls forward on his hands. He and the Countess look at each
other for some time; then she breaks the silence. ]
Countess — I hope you are plucky enough.
Don't show your-
self before the Count again to-day. We'll tell him to hurry up
your commission in his regiment.
Cherubino- I already have it, Madame. Basilio brought it
to me. [He draws the commission from his pocket and hands it
to her. ]
Countess - Already! They haven't lost any time. [She opens
it. ] Oh, in their hurry they've forgotten to add the seal to it.
Susanna [returning with the oiled silk] — Seal what ?
Countess - His commission in the regiment.
Susanna – Already?
fine musician, he was appointed instructor of the King's daughters;
and he was quick to turn to good account the influence thus acquired.
In 1764 he made a sudden trip to
Spain to vindicate a sister of his, who
had been betrothed to a man called
Clavijo and whom this Spaniard had
refused to marry. He succeeded in
his mission, and his own brilliant ac-
count of this characteristic episode in
his career suggested to Goethe the
play of Clavigo. ' Beaumarchais him-
self brought back from Madrid a liking
for things Spanish and a knowledge
of Iberian customs and character.
He had been a watchmaker, a musi-
cian, a court official, a speculator, and
it was only when he was thirty-five
BEAUMARCHAIS
that he turned dramatist. Various
French authors, Diderot especially, weary of confinement to tragedy
and comedy, the only two forms then admitted on the French stage,
were seeking a new dramatic formula in which they might treat pa-
thetic situations of modern life; and it is due largely to their efforts
that the modern “play” or “drama,” the story of every-day exist-
ence, has been evolved. The first dramatic attempt of Beaumarchais
was a drama called 'Eugénie,' acted at the Théâtre Français in 1767,
and succeeding just enough to encourage him to try again. The sec-
ond, The Two Friends, acted in 1770, was a frank failure. For the
pathetic, Beaumarchais had little aptitude; and these two serious
efforts were of use to him only so far as their performance may have
helped him to master the many technical difficulties of the theatre.
## p. 1658 (#456) ###########################################
1658
BEAUMARCHAIS
Beaumarchais had married a second time in 1768, and he had
been engaged in various speculations with the financier Pâris-Duver-
ney. In 1770 his wife died, and so did his associate; and he found
himself soon involved in lawsuits, into the details of which it is need-
less to go, but in the course of which he published a series of
memoirs, or statements of his case for the public at large. These
memoirs are among the most vigorous of all polemical writings; they
were very clever and very witty; they were vivacious and audacious;
they were unfailingly interesting; and they were read as eagerly as
the Letters of Junius. ' Personal at first, the suits soon became
political; and part of the public approval given to the attack of
Beaumarchais on judicial injustice was due no doubt to the general
discontent with the existing order in France. His daring conduct of
his own cause made him a personality. He was intrusted with one
secret mission by Louis XV. ; and when Louis XVI. came to the
throne, he managed to get him again employed confidentially.
Not long after his two attempts at the serious drama, he had tried
to turn to account his musical faculty by writing both the book and
the score of a comic opera, which had, however, been rejected by the
Comédie-Italienne (the predecessor of the present Opéra Comique).
After a while Beaumarchais cut out his music and worked over his
plot into a five-act comedy in prose, “The Barber of Seville. It was
produced by the Théâtre Français in 1775, and like the contemporary
(Rivals) of Sheridan, — the one English author with whom Beau-
marchais must always be compared, it was a failure on the first
night and a lasting success after the author had reduced it and rear-
ranged it. “The Barber of Seville) was like the Gil Blas) of Lesage
in that, while it was seemingly Spanish in its scenes, it was in real-
ity essentially French. It contained one of the strongest characters
in literature, — Figaro, a reincarnation of the intriguing servant of
Menander and Plautus and Molière. Simple in plot, ingenious in
incident, brisk in dialogue, broadly effective in character-drawing,
(The Barber of Seville) is the most famous French comedy of the
eighteenth century, with the single exception of its successor from
the same pen, which appeared nine years later.
During those years Beaumarchais was not idle. Like Defoe, he
was always devising projects for money-making. A few months after
( The Barber of Seville) had been acted, the American Revolution
began, and Beaumarchais was a chief agent in supplying the Ameri-
cans with arms, ammunition, and supplies. He had a cruiser of his
own, Le Fier Roderigue, which was in D'Estaing's feet. When the
independence of the United States was recognized at last, Beaumar-
chais had a pecuniary claim against the young nation which long
remained unsettled.
1
## p. 1659 (#457) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1659
Not content with making war on his own account almost, Beau-
marchais also undertook the immense task of publishing a complete
edition of Voltaire. He also prepared a sequel to the Barber,' in
which Figaro should be even more important, and should serve as a
mouthpiece for declamatory criticism of the social order. But his
'Marriage of Figaro' was so full of the revolutionary ferment that its
performance was forbidden. Following the example of Molière under
the similar interdiction of Tartuffe,' Beaumarchais was uintiring in
arousing interest in his unacted play, reading it himself in the houses
of the great.
Finally it was authorized, and when the first perform-
ance took place at the Théâtre Français in 1784, the crush to see it
was so great that three persons were stifled to death.
The new
comedy was as amusing and as adroit as its predecessor, and the hits
at the times were sharper and swifter and more frequent. How
demoralized society was then may be gauged by the fact that this
disintegrating satire was soon acted by the amateurs of the court,
a chief character being impersonated by Marie Antoinette herself.
The career of Beaumarchais reached its climax with the produc-
tion of the second of the Figaro plays. Afterward he wrote the
libretto for an opera, “Tarare,' produced with Salieri's music in 1787;
the year before he had married for the third time. In a heavy play
called “The Guilty Mother,' acted with slight success in 1790, he
brought in Figaro yet once more. During the Terror he emigrated
to Holland, returning to Paris in 1796 to find his sumptuous mansion
despoiled. May 18th, 1799, he died, leaving a fortune of $200,000,
besides numerous claims against the French nation and the United
States.
An interesting parallel could be drawn between “The Rivals) and
the School for Scandal' on the one side, and on the other (The
Barber of Seville) and “The Marriage of Figaro”; and there are also
piquant points of likeness between Sheridan and Beaumarchais. But
Sheridan, with all his failings, was of sterner stuff than Beaumarchais.
He had a loftier political morality, and he served the State more
loyally. Yet the two comedies of Beaumarchais are like the two
comedies of Sheridan in their incessant wit, in their dramaturgic
effectiveness, and in the histrionic opportunities they afford. Indeed,
the French comedies have had a wider audience than the English,
thanks to an Italian and a German, --- to Rossini who set (The Bar-
ber of Seville) to music, and to Mozart who did a like service for
"The Marriage of Figaro.
Foruder Mathers
## p. 1660 (#458) ###########################################
1660
BEAUMARCHAIS
FROM "THE BARBER OF SEVILLE)
OUTWITTING A GUARDIAN
[Rosina's lover, Count Almaviva, attempts to meet and converse with her
by hoodwinking Dr. Bartolo, her zealous guardian. He comes in disguise to
Bartolo's dwelling, in a room of which the scene is laid. ]
[Enter Count Almavira, dressed as a student. ]
Count [solemnly]— May peace and joy abide here evermore!
Bartolo [brusquely]— Never, young sir, was wish more àpro-
pos! What do you want ?
Count — Sir, I am one Alonzo, a bachelor of arts,
Bartolo— Sir, I need no instructor.
Count - -a pupil of Don Basilio, the organist of the con-
vent, who teaches music to Madame your—
Bartolo [suspiciously] — Basilio! Organist! Yes, I know him.
Well?
Count [asidi]— What a man! [Aloud. ] He's confined to his
bed with a sudden illness.
Bartolo -- Confined to his bed! Basilio! He's very good to
send word, for I've just seen him.
Count [aside]—Oh, the devil! [Aloud. ) When I say to his
bed, sir, it's— I mean to his room.
Bartolo_ Whatever's the matter with him, go, if you please.
Count [embarrassed]— Sir, I was asked — Can no one hear us?
Bartolo [aside] - It's some rogue! [Aloud. ) What's that?
No, Monsieur Mysterious, no one can hear! Speak frankly — if
you can.
Count [aside] - Plague take the old rascal! [Aloud. ] Don
Basilio asked me to tell you —
Bartolo-Speak louder. I'm deaf in one ear.
Count [raising his voice] — Ah! quite right: he asks me to say
to you that one Count Almaviva, who was lodging on the great
square —
Bartolo [frightened ]-Speak low, speak low.
Count [louder] - moved away from there this morning.
As it was I who told him that this Count Almaviva-
Bartolo— Low, speak lower, I beg of you.
Count [in the same tone) - Was in this city, and as I have
discovered that Señorita Rosina has been writing to him
## p. 1661 (#459) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1661
Bartolo— Has been writing to him? My dear friend, I im-
plore you, do speak low! Come, let's sit down, let's have a
friendly chat. You have discovered, you say, that Rosina –
Count [angrily] - Certainly. Basilio, anxious about this cor-
respondence on your account, asked me to show you her letter;
but the way you take things —
Bartolo - Good Lord! I take them well enough. But can't
you possibly speak a little lower ?
Count You told me you were deaf in one ear.
Bartolo - I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, if I've been
surly and suspicious, Signor Alonzo: I'm surrounded with spies -
and then your figure, your age, your whole air
I beg your
pardon. Well ? Have you the letter ?
Count — I'm glad you're barely civil at last, sir.
But are you
quite sure no one can overhear us?
Bartolo - Not a soul. My servants are all tired out. Señorita
Rosina has shut herself up in a rage! The very devil's to pay
in this house. Still I'll go and make sure. [He goes to peep
into Rosina's room. ]
Count [aside] - Well, I've caught myself now in my own trap. .
Now what shall I do about the letter? If I were to run off ?
but then I might just as well not have come. Shall I show it
to him? If I could only warn Rosina beforehand! To show it
would be a master-stroke.
Bartolo [returning on tiptoe] - She's sitting by the window
with her back to the door, and re-reading a cousin's letter which
I opened. Now, now - let me see hers.
Count [handing him Rosina's letter] – Here it is. [Aside. ]
She's re-reading my letter.
Bartolo [reads quickly] — “Since you have told me your name
and estate - » Ah, the little traitress! Yes, it's her writing.
Count [frightened ]-Speak low yourself, won't you ?
Bartolo - What for, if you please?
Count - When we've finished, you can do as you choose. But
after all, Don Basilio's negotiation with a lawyer -
Bartolo — With a lawyer ? About my marriage ?
Count –Would I have stopped you for anything else? He told
me to say that all can be ready to-morrow. Then, if she resists —
Bartolo - She will.
Count [wants to take back the letter; Bartolo clutches it]-
I'll tell you what we'll do. We will show her her letter; and
## p. 1662 (#460) ###########################################
1662
BEAUMARCHAIS
But how you
then, if necessary, [more mysteriously] i'll even tell her that it
was given to me by a woman to whom the Count is sacrificing
her. Shame and rage may bring her to terms on the spot.
Bartolo [laughing] - Calumny, eh? My dear fellow, I see very
well now that you come from Basilio. But lest we should seem
to have planned this together, don't you think it would be better
if she'd met you before ?
Count [repressing a start of joy] - Don Basilio thought so, I
know. But how can we manage it? It is late already. There's
not much time left.
Bartolo-I will tell her you've come in his place. Couldn't
you give her a lesson ?
Count -- I'll do anything you like. But take care she doesn't
suspect. All these dodges of pretended masters are rather old
and theatrical.
Bartolo She won't suspect if I introduce you.
do look! You've much more the air of a disguised lover than of
a zealous student-friend.
Count — Really? Don't you think I can hoodwink her all the
better for that ?
Bartolo— She'll never guess. She's in a horrible temper this
evening. -
But if she'll only see you -- Her harpsichord is in this
room. Amuse yourself while you're waiting. I'll do all I can to
bring her here.
Count — Don't say a word about the letter.
Bartolo— Before the right moment ? It would lose all effect
if I did. It's not necessary to tell me things twice; it's not
necessary to tell me things twice.
[He goes. ]
Count [alone, soliloquises] - At last I've won! Ouf!
What a
difficult little old imp he is! Figaro understands him. I found
myself lying, and that made me awkward; and he has eyes for
everything! On my honor, if the letter hadn't inspired me he'd
have thought me a fool! - Ah, how they are disputing in there!
What if she refuses to come ? Listen - If she won't, my com-
ing is all thrown away.
There she is: I won't show myself at
first.
(Rosina enters. ]
Rosina [angrily] – There's no use talking about it, sir. I've
made up my mind. I don't want to hear anything more about
music.
## p. 1663 (#461) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1663
Bartolo — But, my child, do listen! It is Señor Alonzo, the
friend and pupil of Don Basilio, whom he has chosen as one of
our marriage witnesses, I'm sure that music will calm you.
Rosina - Oh! you needn't concern yourself about that; and
as for singing this evening Where is this master you're so
afraid of dismissing? I'll settle him in a minute and Señor
Basilio too. [She sees her lover and exclaims :] Ah!
Bartolo Eh, eh, what is the matter ?
Rosina [pressing her hands to her heart]— Ah, sir! Ah, sir!
Bartolo — She is ill again! Señor Alonzo!
Rosina - No, I am not ill — but as I was turning - ah!
Count — Did you sprain your foot, Madame ?
Rosina — Yes, yes, I sprained my foot! I - hurt myself dread-
fully.
Count – So I perceived.
Rosina [looking at the Count] – The pain really makes me feel
faint.
Bartolo - A chair - a chair there! And not a single chair
here!
[He goes to get one. )
Count - Ah, Rosina !
Rosina What imprudence!
Count There are a hundred things I must say to you.
Rosina — He won't leave us alone.
Count - Figaro will help us.
Bartolo [bringing an arm-chair] - Wait a minute, my child.
Sit down here.
She can't take a lesson this evening, Señor:
you must postpone it. Good-by.
Rosina [to the Count]— No, wait; my pain is better. [To
Bartolo. ] I feel that I've acted foolishly! I'll imitate you, and
atone at once by taking my lesson.
Bartolo-Oh! Such a kind little woman at heart! But after
so much excitement, my child, I can't let you make any exer-
tion. So good-bye, Señor, good-bye.
Rosina [to the Count] - Do wait a minute! [To Bartolo. ] I
shall think that you don't care to please me if you won't let me
show my regret by taking my lesson.
Count [aside to Bartolo] - I wouldn't oppose her, if I were you.
Bartolo That settles it, my love: I am so anxious to please
you that I shall stay here all the time you are practicing.
Rosina - No, don't. I know you don't care for music.
Bartolo - It will charm me this evening, I'm sure.
## p. 1664 (#462) ###########################################
1664
BEAUMARCHAIS
Rosina [aside to the Count] - I'm tormented to death!
Count ſtaking a sheet of music from the stand]—Will you sing
this, Madame ?
Rosina — Yes, indeed — it's a very pretty thing out of the
opera The Useless Precaution. "
Bartolo — Why do you always sing from "The Useless Pre-
caution'?
Count - There is nothing newer! It's a picture of spring in a
very bright style. So if Madame wants to try it -
Rosina [looking at the Count]— With pleasure. A picture of
spring is delightful! It is the youth of nature.
. It seems as if
the heart always feels more when winter's just over. It's like a
slave who finds liberty all the more charming after a long con-
finement.
Bartolo [to the Count] - Always romantic ideas in her head!
Count [in a low tone] – Did you notice the application ?
Bartolo - Zounds!
[He sits down in the chair which Rosina has been occupying. Rosina sings,
during which Bartolo goes to sleep. Under cover of the refrain the
Count seizes Rosina's hand and covers it with kisses. In her emotion
she sings brokenly, and finally breaks off altogether. The sudden
silence awakens Bartolo. The Count starts up, and Rosina quickly
resumes her song: ]
So your
(Don Basilio enters. Figaro in background. ]
Rosina [startled, to herself]- Don Basilio!
Count [aside]— Good Heaven!
Figaro- The devil!
Bartolo [going to meet him]— Ah! welcome, Basilio.
accident was not very serious ? Alonzo quite alarmed me about
you. He will tell you that I was just going to see you, and if
he had not detained me
Basilio [in astonishment]— Señor Alonzo ?
Figaro [stamping his foot]— Well, well! How long must I
wait? Two hours wasted already over your beard - Miserable
business!
Basilio [looking at every one in amazement]— But, gentlemen,
will you please tell me
Figaro – You can talk to him after I've gone.
Basilio— But still, would
## p. 1665 (#463) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1665
Count – You'd better be quiet, Basilio. Do you think you
can inform him of anything new? I've told him that you sent
me for the music lesson instead of coming himself.
Basilio [still more astonished]— The music lesson! Alonzo!
Rosina [aside to Basilio] - Do hold your tongue, can't you?
Basilio- She, too!
Count [to Bartolo] - Let him know what you and I have
agreed upon.
Bartolo [aside to Basilio] - Don't contradict, and say that he
is not your pupil, or you will spoil everything.
Basilio - Ah! Ah!
Bartolo [aloud] – Indeed, Basilio, your pupil has a great deal
of talent.
Basilio [stupe fied] - My pupil! [In a low tone. ) I came to
tell you that the Count has moved.
Bartolo [low] - I know it. Hush.
Basilio [low] - Who told you ?
Bartolo [low] - He did, of course.
Count [low]— It was I, naturally. Just listen, won't you ?
Rosina (low to Basilio] - Is it so hard to keep still?
Figaro [low to Basilio] - Hum! The sharper! He is deaf!
Basilio [aside]— Who the devil are they trying to deceive
here? Everybody seems to be in it!
Bartolo [aloud]-Well, Basilio - about your lawyer - ?
Figaro - You have the whole evening to talk about the
lawyer.
Bartolo [to Basilio] - One word; only tell me if you are sat-
isfied with the lawyer.
Basilio [startled] — With the lawyer ?
Count (smiling] - Haven't you seen the lawyer ?
Basilio [impatient]- Eh? No, I haven't seen the lawyer.
Count [aside to Bartolo] - Do you want him to explain matters
before her ? Send him away.
Bartolo [low to the Count] – You are right. [To Basilio. ] But
what made you ill, all of a sudden ?
Basilio [angrily]—I don't understand you.
Count [secretly slipping a purse into his hands] — Yes: he
wants to know what you are doing here, when you are so far
from well ?
Figaro- He's as pale as a ghost!
Basilio - Ah! I understand.
III-105
## p. 1666 (#464) ###########################################
1666
BEAUMARCHAIS
Count — Go to bed, dear Basilio. You are not at all well, and
you make us all anxious. Go to bed.
Figaro - He looks quite upset. Go to bed.
Bartolo - I'm sure he seems feverish. Go to bed.
Rosina - Why did you come out? They say that it's catching.
Go to bed.
Basilio [in the greatest amazement] - I'm to go to bed!
All the others together -- Yes, you must.
Basilio [looking at them all] - Indeed, I think I will have to
withdraw. I don't feel quite as well as usual.
Bartolo - We'll look for you to-morrow, if you are better.
Count — I'll see you soon, Basilio.
Basilio [aside] - Devil take it if I understand all this! And
if it weren't for this purse -
All-Good-night, Basilio, good-night.
Basilio (going] - Very well, then; good-night, good-night.
[The others, all laughing, push him civilly out of the room. ]
FROM "THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO)
OUTWITTING A HUSBAND
[The scene is the boudoir of young Countess Almaviva, the Rosina of the
previous selection. She is seated alone, when her clever maid Susanna
ushers in the young page Cherubino, just banished from the house because
obnoxious to the jealous Count. )
Susanna — Here's our young Captain, Madame.
Cherubino [timidly]— The title is a sad reminder that — that
I must leave this delightful home and the godmother who has
been so kind-
Susanna - And so beautiful!
Cherubino [sighing] - Ah, yes!
Susanna (mocking his sigh] - Ah, yes! Just look at his hypo-
critical eyelids! Madame, make him sing his new song. [She
gives it to him. ] Come now, my beautiful bluebird, sing away.
Countess -- Does the manuscript say who wrote this -- song?
Susanna — The blushes of guilt betray him.
Cherubino- Madame, I--I-- tremble so.
Susanna - Ta, ta, ta, ta—! Come, modest author - since you
are so commanded. Madame, I'll accompany him.
Countess [to Susanna]— Take my guitar.
## p. 1667 (#465) ###########################################
BEAUMARCHAIS
1667
[Cherubino sings his ballad to the air of Malbrouck. ' The Countess reads
the words of it from his manuscript, with an occasional glance at
him; he sometimes looks at her and sometimes lowers his eyes as he
sings. Susanna, accompanying him, watches them both, laughing. ]
Countess [folding the song]- Enough, my boy. Thank you.
It is very good — full of feeling-
Susanna — Ah! as for feeling - this is a young man who —
well!
[Cherubino tries to stop her by catching hold of her dress.
Susanna whispers to him]- Ah, you good-for-nothing! I'm going
to tell her. (Aloud. ] Well — Captain! We'll amuse ourselves by
seeing how you look in one of my dresses!
Countess - Susanna, how can you go on so?
Susanna [going up to Cherubino and measuring herself with
him] - He's just the right height. Off with your coat. [She
draws it off. ]
Countess - But what if some one should come ?
Susanna – What if they do? We're doing no wrong. But
I'll lock the door, just the same. [Locks it. ] I want to see him
in a woman's head-dress!
Countess — Well, you'll find my little cap in my dressing-room
on the toilet table.
more
[Susanna gets the cap, and then, sitting down on a stool, she makes Cheru-
bino kneel before her and arranges it on his hair. ]
Susanna — Goodness, isn't he a pretty girl ?
I'm jealous.
Cherubino, you're altogether too pretty.
Countess - Undo his collar a little; that will give a
feminine air. (Susanna loosens his collar so as to show his neck. ?
Now push up his sleeves, so that the under ones show more.
[While Susanna rolls up Cherubino's sleeves, the Countess notices
her lost ribbon around his wrist. ] What is that? My ribbon ?
Susanna - Ah! I'm very glad you've seen it, for I told him
I should tell. I sirould certainly have taken it away from him
if the Count hadn't come just then; for I am almost as strong
as he is.
Countess [with surprise, unrolling the ribbon]- There's blood
on it!
Cherubino - Yes, I was tightening the curb of my horse this
morning, he curvetted and gave me a push with his head, and
the bridle stud grazed my arm.
## p. 1668 (#466) ###########################################
1668
BEAUMARCHAIS
Countess - I never saw a ribbon used as a bandage before.
Susanna — Especially a stolen ribbon. What may all those
things be — the curb, the curvetting, the bridle stud? [Glances
at his arms. ] What white arms he has! just like a woman's.
Madame, they are whiter than mine.
Countess Never mind that, but run and find me some oiled
silk.
[Susanna goes out, after humorously pushing Cherubino aver so that he
falls forward on his hands. He and the Countess look at each
other for some time; then she breaks the silence. ]
Countess — I hope you are plucky enough.
Don't show your-
self before the Count again to-day. We'll tell him to hurry up
your commission in his regiment.
Cherubino- I already have it, Madame. Basilio brought it
to me. [He draws the commission from his pocket and hands it
to her. ]
Countess - Already! They haven't lost any time. [She opens
it. ] Oh, in their hurry they've forgotten to add the seal to it.
Susanna [returning with the oiled silk] — Seal what ?
Countess - His commission in the regiment.
Susanna – Already?
