“This circumstance enables us to observe closely what was passing in those frivolous heads that were soon to be stricken off, and to realize with what blind impatience those thoughtless patricians aspired to be pointed out by Figaro for the contempt of the masses.” In this letter of the count, after running over a half dozen plays that do not satisfy him, he says: “Fearing the permission of M. de Beaumarchais would not reach us in time we will postpone the spectacle for three or four days so it will not be given until the 21st or the 22nd. Will you please see that the comedians hold themselves ready for that date? But _hors du ‘Mariage de Figaro,’ point de salut_ (our only salvation is in the _Mariage de Figaro_). Thank you a thousand times, my dear Fronsac, for all your trouble. I know that it is for these ladies and M. the comte d’Artois, who join in my gratitude. Receive the renewed expression of my deep regard which is yours for life; “Le comte de Vaudreuil.” Again to quote Loménie: “Beaumarchais, then in England, learned that nothing was now lacking but his own consent to play the piece prohibited by the king several months before. He returned immediately to Paris and it was he now who was the one to make the conditions. He was not satisfied simply to amuse the court, but wished rather to reach the public and to make them laugh at the expense of the court, which was a very different matter. If, however, the one would lead to the other, Beaumarchais would be charmed to gratify MM. de Vaudreuil and de Fronsac, but before consenting to the representation taking place at Grennevilliers, he required that the favor be accorded him of a new censure. Singular request! “‘But,’ they said to him, ‘your play has already been censored, approved, and we have the permission of the king.’ “‘No matter, it must be censored again.’ “To M. de Breteuil he wrote, ‘they found me a little difficult in my turn and they said it was only because I was so sought after; but since I desired _absolutely_ to _fix public opinion_ by a new examination of the piece, I insisted, and so they have accorded me the severe historian, Gaillard of the French Academy.’ “This,” continues Loménie, “was well thought out. Just before a court festival, where all were eagerly awaiting the representation, what censor, no matter how arbitrary, would dare interfere by spoiling their joy and provoking the anger of the powerful lords who ordered the festival? And so, as was to be expected, the report of the censure was ‘completely favorable.’”