“Like the _Barbier_,” says Lintilhac, “it is here a question of marriage, but it is the valet this time who is to marry and the obstacles which retard this desired _dénouement_ arise, not from the jealousy of a guardian, or the resistance of a father but from the covetousness of a young libertine master.... It is the master who is outwitted, the valet and his fiancée who triumph, and in this _dénouement_ lies the whole secret of the wild enthusiasm with which the piece was greeted. Right here lies the Revolution.” But the master is as truly painted in the play as the other characters. “The Comte Almaviva,” says Imbert de Saint Amand, “is the old régime, Figaro is the new society. Almaviva is corrupt, but he is always _comme il faut_. Even in his anger he remains the man of good society; no doubt his faults are great; he is a libertine from ennui, jealous from vanity, but he is not odious, not ridiculous.” But to return to Lintilhac: “We may see that Figaro, by the aid of two clever women and his own _esprit_ has the opportunity to interest the public and to bring all to a happy ending. “‘Be on your guard that day, M. Figaro! First put the clocks in advance so as to be a little surer of marrying. Get rid of Marceline who wants to marry you herself—take all the money and the presents, let the count have his way, in little things; drub Basil roundly, ... (Act I, Scene II). And let us finish the programme which the fat doctor interrupts,—giving yourself full rein, invective politics, graft and those who live by it; ridicule censorship, and the law, as well as those who abuse both—banter privileges and the privileged and all that attaches itself to either, in a word—open the way for the men of genius who are preparing there below in the obscure crowd, and who wish to emerge. “But the time to laugh, _la folle journée_ commences. _Quel imbroglio!_ Twenty times everything seems finished, and suddenly, an unexpected incident, but always arising out of the situation, throws forward in rapid movement that brilliant group of personages. They seek, they evade one another, group themselves in tableaux turn by turn, animated and gracious, laughing or grotesque.... “And the new song to the old music! And the scene which a moment ago framed these charming groups, suddenly fills with the noise of the crowd and the whole village which sings. _Quel crescendo_ of gaiety!... “Take the most ingenious comedy of Lope de Vega, or Calderon, add the gaiety of Regnard, the comique of George Dandin, the amusing of Vadé, and one will scarcely have in imagination the equivalent of the scene on the night which terminates the _Mariage de Figaro_.”