Le Comte--“Very pretty, on my honor.” Figaro--“It is a charming song.” Beaumarchais was so far content. He had proved his point and had triumphed over friends and enemies alike. A far more difficult matter remained, however, to be settled. It was one that would have frightened a less intrepid character than that of our author, but obstacles, as we have seen in many previous instances, only served to strengthen his determination to conquer, which in this instance, as in most others, he did in the end. When Beaumarchais demanded of the _Théâtre-Français_ a statement verified and signed as to his share of the profits from the representation of the _Barbier de Séville_, no one knew better than he the magnitude of the innovation which he was committing. The alarmed comedians, who had never in their lives made out an accurate account and who had not the remotest intention of yielding to the demand, endeavored by every possible means to put him off. The money that they sent and the unsigned memoranda which accompanied it, were all promptly but politely returned with the reiterated statement, most obligingly and cleverly turned and always in some new form, that it was not the money which was wanted, but a verified and signed account which could serve as a model for all future occasions, when it became a matter of business transaction between authors and comedians. For fifteen years he pursued his object with unfaltering perseverance. Unable to establish a new order of things under the old _régime_, we shall find him in 1791 presenting a petition in regard to the rights of authors to the _Assemblée Nationale_. But to return to the _Barbier de Séville_, let us anticipate a period of ten years and accompany Beaumarchais to a representation of this famous piece played upon another stage than that of the _Théâtre-Français_, and by actors very different from the comedians of the king. It was in 1785. The aristocracy of France, all unconscious of what they were doing towards the undermining of the colossal structure of which they formed the parts, were bent upon one thing only and that was amusement. From the insupportable _régime_ which etiquette enforced, Marie Antoinette fled the vast palace of Versailles on every possible occasion, seeking refuge in her charming and dearly loved retreat, the _Petit-Trianon_. [Illustration: _Le Petit-Trianon_]