,
indignantly:
"That's detestable; that shall never be played; the Bastille must be
destroyed before the license to act this play can be any other than an act
of the most dangerous inconsistency. This man scoffs at everything that
should be respected in a government."
"It will not be played, then?" said the Queen.
"No, certainly," replied Louis XVI.; "you may rely upon that."
Still it was constantly reported that "Figaro" was about to be performed;
there were even wagers laid upon the subject; I never should have laid any
myself, fancying that I was better informed as to the probability than
anybody else; if I had, however, I should have been completely deceived.
The protectors of Beaumarchais, feeling certain that they would succeed in
their scheme of making his work public in spite of the King's prohibition,
distributed the parts in the "Mariage de Figaro" among the actors of the
Theatre Francais. Beaumarchais had made them enter into the spirit of his
characters, and they determined to enjoy at least one performance of this
so-called chef d'oeuvre. The first gentlemen of the chamber agreed that
M. de la Ferte should lend the theatre of the Hotel des Menus Plaisirs, at
Paris, which was used for rehearsals of the opera; tickets were
distributed to a vast number of leaders of society, and the day for the
performance was fixed. The King heard of all this only on the very
morning, and signed a 'lettre de cachet,'--[A 'lettre de cachet' was any
written order proceeding from the King. The term was not confined merely
to orders for arrest.]--which prohibited the performance. When the
messenger who brought the order arrived, he found a part of the theatre
already filled with spectators, and the streets leading to the Hotel des
Menus Plaisirs filled with carriages; the piece was not performed. This
prohibition of the King's was looked upon as an attack on public liberty.
The disappointment produced such discontent that the words oppression and
tyranny were uttered with no less passion and bitterness at that time than
during the days which immediately preceded the downfall of the throne.
Beaumarchais was so far put off his guard by rage as to exclaim, "Well,
gentlemen, he won't suffer it to be played here; but I swear it shall be
played,--perhaps in the very choir of Notre-Dame!" There was something
prophetic in these words. It was generally insinuated shortly afterwards
that Beaumarchais had determined to su
|