Feeling the weakness of his arguments, the lawyer came back to the clauses which were complicated, diffuse, and mixed with observations foreign to the settlement in question; this was true, but in favor of Beaumarchais, because had he been fabricating an act, it would have been brief, methodical, and clear, while in regulating a long account with an old man of eighty-seven this act must necessarily correspond to the prolixity, or the fantasies of, this advanced age. But one will say, why, when he had only to contend against such feeble arguments, was it possible for Beaumarchais, after gaining his suit in the first instance to lose it in the second, as we shall presently see him do? The story is long and involved, and many pictures are needed to convey the scene in all its intensity and intricacy. A sentence dated February 22, 1772, rejects the demand of the Comte de la Blache, and a second dated March 4th, 1772, orders the execution of the act. Upon this the adversary appeals to the grand chamber of Parliament. Although victorious in his struggle, Beaumarchais was vilified by the crafty Caillard to the extent of the latter’s power. The credit and influence of the Comte de la Blache excited against him a swarm of writers, and the gazettes, especially the foreign periodicals, made the most of all the atrocious calumnies which had been set going regarding his character. The sudden death of his two wives served as a pretext for the most infamous accusations. All the confusing details of this disastrous lawsuit have been fully investigated and the whole matter clearly exposed by M. de Loménie and we know that the final decision rendered at Aix in 1778 exonerated Beaumarchais from every semblance of fault or dishonorable action. That which concerns us at this time is to learn what effect all these infamous machinations had upon a character which we have recognized already as strong, elevated, and free. From the bitterness of the attacks of his enemies, let us turn to the refreshing and faithful picture which his devoted friend Gudin makes of him at this time. He writes: “It was in the winter of 1771 that I met Madame de Miron, sister of Beaumarchais, at the home of a woman of my acquaintance. She had been invited to a reading of one of my poems. In the beginning she showed no interest, but as I read, her face became animated and at the end she was as prodigal of her praise, as at first she had been indifferent. She spoke to me of her brother. She found me without prejudice for his dramas, but naturally biased in regard to his character of which I had heard much adverse criticism. “Satisfied with my discourse, she resolved to conquer me for her brother and accordingly invited me to dine with her at a time when the abbé Délille was to read some verses still unknown to the public.