part I
think that those who malign doctors are the ignorant, and such folk as think never to need their assistance.
TABARIN. You are wrong, for those who mock them are those who most desire their aid, the people who are ill.
THE MASTER. The people who are ill, Tabarin! How can it happen that a patient should mock a doctor, since he is so sorely in need of one?
TABARIN. Is it not a piece of mockery to put out your tongue half-a-foot to him who comes to visit you?
THE MASTER. Indeed to put out the tongue is a sign of derision.
TABARIN. Very well, when a doctor goes to see a patient to ascertain his ailment, the sick man always puts out his tongue at him. That is pure mockery.
_Dialogue between Mondor and Tabarin_
TABARIN. My master, let us consider things for once: it is high time that I should become the master. I have been the servant far too long.
THE MASTER. Get along, you rascal, you gallows bird! Do you want to become the master, scullion that you are? You want to give me orders, do you? And what then am I to become? Your servant? Really, it would be a fine sight!
TABARIN. Yes, indeed, I should be a fine sight. Am I not as much a man as you, and as great a master?
THE MASTER. What is one to say to a man who is persuaded of something, and who gets some insolent notion into his mind? Come here, rogue; who keeps you? who nourishes you? who supplies you with all your necessaries?
TABARIN. It was but wanting that you should boast of feeding me! A fine master you! When I came to see you, you made an agreement with me, and you promised to dress me and to nourish me. The devil take me if you’ve observed the hundredth part of that! Every time that I have risen I have been compelled to dress myself. When it was necessary to dine, did you feed me? I have been constrained myself to go to the trouble of putting my fingers in the dish and carrying them to my mouth. I have endured far too much at your hands, but henceforward I shall teach you what it means to be master.
THE MASTER. Is your brain so troubled and your judgment so distorted that you do not know that I am your master?
TABARIN. Not at all, I maintain that I am as great a master as you. Tell me, pray, how you can distinguish between master and servant?
THE MASTER. It is easy to recognise the one from the other, whether at rising or going to bed or even in the street: the master always goes ahead.
TABARIN. I have got you. Now listen. You say that the master is always to be recognised because he walks ahead; tell me now, every time you go to sup in town and that you return after dark by torchlight, which of us two walks ahead?
THE MASTER. It is you, Tabarin, since bearing the torch it is your duty to light my way.
TABARIN. It follows then that I am the master, for I walk ahead. Oh! the fine lackey that follows me then!
_The most daring animal_
TABARIN. Since you have some slight knowledge of the nature of animals, will you kindly tell me which is the most daring animal, and which the most generous?
THE MASTER. That is a matter beyond all doubt, Tabarin; it is the lion; for just as he is the most furious of all so is he the most daring. The daring and generosity of anything is to be recognised by the heights of the enterprises which it undertakes. Now among all species of animals, of which the number is almost infinite, there is none that shows so great generosity and daring as the lion. He is equipped with a male courage which distinguishes all his actions. There is no other beast, however furious it may be, that dares to stand before his face. In short, to be brief, he is the most daring of all animals.
TABARIN. You are wrong, my master. I do not go so far as to say that you are lying, but it really amounts to no less. The most daring animal on earth is the miller’s donkey, my master, because every day of his life he is amid robbers and knows no fear.
A collection attributed to Tabarin is entitled: “Jardin, récueil, trésor, _abrégé de secrets, jeux, facéties, gausseries, passe-tems_, compozéz, fabriquéz, experimentéz, et mis en lumière par votre serviteur Tabarin de _Valburlesque_, à plaisirs et contentements des esprits curieux.”
Here are some brief extracts from it:
_To contrive that all those who are at a ball or other assembly shall sneeze at once_
Take spurge, pirètre and white hellebore, in equal quantities of each. Reduce the whole to finest powder and blow it through a quill about the room where people are assembled and watch the result.
_To contrive that meat brought to table shall seem full of worms_
Take a lute cord, cut it into little pieces and put these upon the meat while it is still hot, and the heat will set these pieces jumping and moving as if they were worms.
This is followed by several jests and secrets to amuse the company, such as:
“Recipe to prevent a pot from boiling.”
“How to make an egg run through the room without anyone touching it.”
“How to kill and pluck a bird all in one stroke.”
“How to cut a string into several pieces and immediately to make it whole again.”
“Admirable secret for cutting an apple in four, eight or more pieces without damaging the skin.”
“How to contrive that he or she whom you appoint in drying the face with a cloth shall become black. A very amusing secret,” etc., etc.
Even a prophetic almanac for 1623 appeared under the name of Tabarin with admirable predictions for every month of the year. It is a collection of sentences and predictions after the manner of _La Palisse_.
“First of all should no timber or faggots arrive in port we shall be in danger of paying high prices for fuel, etc. The month of March will commence immediately after the last day of February, and the weather will be very variable. The month of April will follow after, etc. In the month of June the grass will be cut. In July there will be a great war between dogs and hares. Bulls will be twice as big as sheep and donkeys will be as stupid as usual, whilst diminishing nothing in the length of their ears. In the month of October the Normans will be busy in their orchards. The month of December will be the last month of the year. In this year no rustics will be ennobled,” etc., etc.
All such prognostications, like many others of Tabarin, come in direct line from Rabelais, who himself imitated in his _Pantagrueline prognostication_ the collection of _facéties_ of Henri Bebelius.
“This year the blind will see very little, the deaf will hear very badly and the dumb will not speak at all. Many sheep, bulls, pigs, geese, pullets and ducks will die. Fleas will mostly be black. There will be horrible sedition between dogs and hares, between cats and rats, between moles and eggs. In all this year there will be but one moon, and it will not be a new one. In winter, according to my little judgment, those who sell their furs to buy wood will not be wise. Should it rain do not be melancholy, for there will be the less dust on the roads. Keep yourselves warm, avoid catarrhs and drink the best.”
The costume of Tabarin was composed of his mirific hat, of a felt which was red rather than grey, of a short cloak in old green serge, and jacket and trousers of linen.
iv
BURATTINO is a famous mask of the _Gelosi_ troupe. It was somewhere about 1580 that this personage appeared in Florence and scored so great a success that very soon he passed into the marionette theatres, and his name became the denomination of all marionettes, _Fantoccini_, _Puppi_, _Pupazzi_ and _Bamboccie_. In 1628 a piece was even written about this personage by Francesco Gattici, entitled _Le Disgrazie di Burattino_ (_The Misfortunes of Burattino_).
In the scenarii of Flaminio Scala, Burattino is a comical character, addicted to tears, a glutton, a coward and always a dupe. He is a servant, sometimes of Captain Spavento, sometimes of Isabella and sometimes of Pantaloon. In fairy plays he intrudes upon the action to deliver his jests, which have absolutely no connection with the plot. He is a sort of ancient Stenterello. In _L’Innocente Persiana_, Burattino is the servant of the Prince of Egypt, and his rôle consists of losing and finding his master. In some plays he is a courier bearing letters, booted, wearing a wide felt hat, and carrying a whip; he loses his letters, or permits them to be stolen from him, which disheartens him, and, crossing his legs, he refuses thereafter to be entrusted with any commission.
At other times he is a gardener, the father of Olivetta, an indolent girl, little given to work. He reproaches her with being unable to do anything. “How,” he cries, “at your age and as big as you are, and, my faith, fit to be married, you still do not know how to use a mattock or how to plant a cabbage!” Thereupon he submits her to a course of burlesque horticulture, naming to her one after another the garden implements, and telling her how to use them.
Very often he is an innkeeper, and married to Franceschina, who leads him by the nose. The Captain, having dined at his inn, departs after having paid. Burattino is so surprised that he takes up a spade, shoulders it, and thus escorts the Captain home to do him honour; but he is careful to take with him Grillo, the pot-boy, so that he shall not be compelled to return alone. When he gets back he perceives Pantaloon whispering with his servant Pedrolino; the latter, perceiving Burattino, with whose wife he is in love, raises his voice and reproaches Pantaloon with attempting to betray the wife of that poor fellow Burattino. Pantaloon beats his servant for having disclosed his intentions before the husband and departs. Burattino comforts Pedrolino who has suffered for the sake of the honour of his friend the innkeeper; he takes him inside, feeds him, and then, with the greatest confidence, entrusts him with the vigilance of his wife during his absence.
No sooner has our innkeeper departed than Madame Franceschina makes unmistakable advances to Pedrolino. It is Pantaloon who seeks to convince Burattino of the treachery of his friend and of his wife. Furious, the innkeeper demands an explanation of Franceschina, who assures him mockingly that he is mistaken. He believes her and returns to his affairs, but Pantaloon, grown jealous on his own account, returns to the assault, and compels the husband to surprise the two lovers. Burattino seeks various ways of vengeance; he decides for poison and spends half the piece seeking a suitable one; being unable to find any, he decides to call the watch, and it is before the justice that he demands explanations of his wife and Pedrolino. The result is that Burattino is persuaded that he misunderstood what he heard and what he saw, which was no more than a pleasantry. He believes and begs forgiveness of his wife, whom he continues to account virtuous.
The actor who played the rôle of Burattino in the _Gelosi_ troupe must very long have been absent from it, for he is not found to be included in a whole series of scenarii which must cover a space of some six to eight years.
v
CAVICCHIO was in the _Gelosi_ troupe in the sixteenth century, a sort of imbecile and rustic servant. His rôles are short, and they consist mainly in his coming on to sing and to relate some story after the fashion of the peasants.
In _Gli Avvenimenti Comici_, Cavicchio is carrying soup to the harvesters when he pauses before Mezzetin and Harlequin, who, dressed as labourers, are making love to Lisetta, a young shepherdess. He mocks them, and from injurious expressions they come to blows. But the shepherdess and her friends, who arrive at the noise, separate the brawlers, and compel them to make friends. Lisetta, desiring to cement the harmony between Mezzetin and Harlequin, exacts from them a promise that, for love of her, they will eat Cavicchio’s soup in the position that she shall indicate. Lisetta then places them back to back and ties their arms. She then places the bowl on the ground, bidding them eat, and departs, enjoining Cavicchio to give them drink after they have finished the soup. Mezzetin and Harlequin then attempt to pick up the soup, but each of them, every time that he stoops, lifts his companion upon his shoulders, which is a source of jests for Cavicchio, who looks on with bursts of laughter. Harlequin ends by picking up the bowl and runs off eating, carrying Mezzetin on his back.
In the third act it is night; Cavicchio is in his hut with his children who are weaving baskets whilst he sings to the accompaniment of a hornpipe, so as to maintain the family gaiety. Hearing a noise without, he takes up a lamp and goes outside, to find himself face to face with a military patrol. He cries out and calls his wife to his aid, but the captain having reassured him, Cavicchio takes up his hornpipe and sets them all dancing, his wife, his children, the soldiers and even the captain.
vi
FICCHETO is a simpleton who wearies his master, the innkeeper, and his customers by gross proverbial comparisons and ponderous quotations. To listen to him you would suppose that he had been in the Doctor’s service, and that he had profited by his lessons. Extremely timid, he goes greatly in fear of thieves, and so as to deceive them he never sleeps in the same part of the house on two consecutive occasions; every evening he is engaged in removing his bed. His master, intrigued by these nightly removals, inquires the reason.
“It is on account of thieves,” replied Ficcheto. “They will be finely trapped——”
“I hope so indeed,” replies his master, a man of sense.
“I say that they will be finely trapped. A rolling carcass gathers no flies, as my father was wont to say.... And then again I like to sleep as far from you as possible, for, as the proverb has it: Who lies down with dogs gets up with fleas, and then——”
“That will do!” says his master, pushing him rudely aside. “Sleep where you will.” And thereupon Ficcheto begins once more to transport his mattress.
Among the less known Italian buffoons may be cited Gian Manente and Martino d’Amelia.
In _La Calandra_ of the Cardinal of Bibbiena, the servant Fessenio compares Calandro, the ridiculous and deceived husband, to these two buffoons. “The thing that above all others makes me laugh at the expense of Calandro,” he says, “is that he believes himself to be so beautiful and lovable that all the women that see him are immediately enamoured of him, as if the world did not possess such another model of perfection. In short, as a popular proverb runs, if he ate hay he would be a bull; in his own way he is almost as good as Martino d’Amelia or Giovanni Manente.”
“He is more simple than Calandrino,” is a proverb based upon the two models of Boccaccio in which the simplicity of the painter Calandrino impinges upon imbecility. _Far Calandrino qualcheduno_ means to make a fool of someone. Bibbiena gives this popular name to the old man of his comedy _La Calandra_.
Cortavoce, also called _Courtavoz_, was one of the first Italian mimes to go to France in 1540. His costume with its grey hood and his long cardboard nose earned him the surname of _the pilgrim_.
Rabelais, describing in his _Sciomachie_ (1569) the fêtes held in Rome on the occasion of the birth of a dauphin of France, speaks of “Bergamese mimes and other _matachins_, who came to perform their jests and somersaults” before the court of Rome. Among others he cites Il Moretto, the archbuffoon of Italy.
Il Moretto is also cited several times by Ludovico Domenichi in his collection of _Facétie_, 1565, as a famous utterer of witticisms and a master of his art.
XVI
TARTAGLIA
IL TARTAGLIA (the stutterer) is a mask of Neapolitan origin. Sometimes he is a gossiping servant who, unable to complete the articulation of his words so as to convey his ideas, flies into perpetual rages with himself and with others. Nevertheless he is fat. Enormous spectacles conceal three-quarters of his countenance, to suggest that he is short-sighted, and that he has no desire to be surprised by danger; for however ready he may boast himself to brave anything, from an elephant downwards, he will usually conceal himself behind a hayrick if he hears a cock crow.
The type is one that was but little seen out of Italy. He filled utility rôles and had never more than one scene in a scenario. He would play moreover the parts of notary, of constable, of advocate, of judge, and sometimes of apothecary; but he was invariably a ridiculous and ridiculed personage.
Favart writes in 1761:
“The farce _I Tre Gobbi_ (”The Three Hunchbacks“), translated into French by Lelio Riccoboni, is being repeated at the Théâtre; this farce develops badly; but if it succeeds, that at least will be a good development. I fear in this _facétie_, the character of Tartaglia. One of the three hunchbacks is a stammerer who always halts upon indecent syllables. That is to venture a great deal in a nation whose ears are as chaste as their morals are corrupt.”[5]
Tartaglia’s characteristic costume has always presented a great deal of analogy with that of the _Zanni_. Created, it is said, by Beltrani da Verona in 1630, an epoch in which lackeys such as Scapino and Mezzetino began to discard the mask, Tartaglia assumed as his characteristic device no more than the enormous blue spectacles, without which he cannot play. His face is beardless, his head bald and covered by a round grey hat; he wears an enormous linen collar; his cloak, coat and pantaloon are green, striped transversely with yellow; his stockings are white and his shoes are of black or brown leather. Such at first was Tartaglia.
But like all the others he underwent modifications suggested by changing fashions. In 1750, Fiorilli, a very talented Neapolitan actor, a member of Sacchi’s troupe, played this type in short breeches and cap; by giving the garments of Tartaglia the form proper to Scapin he eliminated the yellow stripes, and embroidered his green livery with silver frogs.
In the nineteenth century in Naples this personage, whose character is to be nothing in particular so that it may be anything he chooses according to the actor undertaking it, wore the white wig, the three-cornered hat and the green coat in the Louis XV. fashion; he was the modern Tartaglia, stammering the emphatic dialect of Naples. He delivers himself of the most outspoken and buffoon sayings, with a nonchalance and calm that are imperturbable. It is also a very common thing for the actor who plays Tartaglia to go and spend a night, or perhaps four or five days, in prison. It is a state of things accepted by the actors and the public, and no one troubles about it.
At every undesirable word he stops as if to seek the proper one, and when he has found it he falls upon it heavily, as it were. It is difficult to give a specimen of the excessively free subjects which lead to his arrest. There was one which assumed the importance of a political fact. In the piece in which it was delivered Tartaglia was returning from Spain, and attempted to inform the audience that the queen had just opened the Cortes, being attended by the leaders of all political opinions. The manner in which he garbled the word _Cortes_ and several others remained stamped upon the memory of those present, and the jest created some sensation, seeing that the Queen of Spain was then the beautiful Christina, sister to the King of Naples. Tartaglia was sent to prison for a week, and deprived of his favourite spectacles for a month. The latter was the most cruel punishment possible to inflict upon the actor and the public; for without his enormous spectacles Tartaglia is paralysed.
Tartaglia is not always a fat fellow. Sometimes he is so dry, so long and so lean, and adorned with so prominent a nose, that he resembles a walking-stick. He then enjoys a singular prerogative; he is a _jettatore_, he has the evil eye, or rather he has two evil eyes, for he can see nothing behind his great spectacles.
“Tartaglia,” says M. Paul de Musset, “is a Neapolitan, enjoying as great a favour as Pancrace. He represents the southerner worn out by the climate, suffering from chronic ophthalmia, and in a condition bordering upon cretinism. His hollow cheeks, his long nose surmounted by enormous blue spectacles, his sickly air and his vice of pronunciation make up the particular signs of a _jettatore_ whom it is dangerous to encounter.”
In the comedy _Il Re Cervo_ of Carlo Gozzi, Tartaglia, his stammering and stupidity notwithstanding, is the prime minister of the kingdom of Serendippe. He desires to marry his daughter to the king, his master. The king, however, loves another, the beautiful Angela. He marries her and becomes jealous. To satisfy his desire to test the sentiments of his wife, the magician Durandarto gives him a formula by means of which his soul can introduce itself into any dead body that he desires to resurrect.
The imprudent monarch confides this important secret to Tartaglia, who is not only furious at the marriage of the king, but further has permitted himself to fall in love with the queen. We behold the injudicious king and his perfidious minister in a forest. A hunted stag falls dead at their feet. Tartaglia persuades his master to put his magic formula to the test upon this animal. The formula is terribly efficacious, for, simultaneously with the passage of the soul of the king into the body of the stag, the body of the king falls dead. So far the evil is of little account, for the king, who has become a stag, may return his soul into his discarded inanimate body. But Tartaglia has been made aware of the formula. He makes use of it immediately to cause his unworthy soul to pass into the body of the king, and, whilst the latter bounds away though the forest, Tartaglia returns to the palace and orders the massacre of all stags, young and old, in the kingdom of Serendippe.
The scene in which Angela beholds the return of her husband, now stammering and unbearable in his behaviour, is extremely amusing. She drives him from her chamber, and finds herself at the door face to face with a poor beggar whom, by force of instinct, she immediately begins to love. This mendicant, of course, is none other than her real husband. The king had found in the forest a poor devil dead of cold, and he had taken possession of his body, thinking it but little suitable to reappear before his better half in the shape of a stag.
Explanations follow, and Angela, to be rid of the odious Tartaglia, promises him her caresses if he will consent to resurrect the little dog which she has just lost. Tartaglia submits to this caprice, but scarcely has he left his body than the legitimate king resumes it by means of the formula, whilst Tartaglia yelps and whines in the body of the dog. That is the last effort of his eloquence, for the king immediately strangles him, and thus ends the comedy.
In Bologna the office of Tartaglia is to provoke laughter at the expense of the law. It is sometimes the commissary himself, sometimes merely the police agent who is held up to ridicule. But the Corporal of the _sbirri_ is his triumph. If he goes to arrest a guilty man his stammering renders him so ridiculous that everybody falls to mocking him. His choler rises to heights of fury when he perceives that the more he speaks the more the laughter increases. We hear then inarticulate cries and unearthly roars issuing from his throat. At last he departs, consigning everybody to the devil, and from a distance we still hear his bizarre ejaculations which it would be idle to attempt to reproduce.
ii
Can we dispense with THE NOTARY? Impossible. Does not love play its part—the principal part—in every piece? And if love is to be succeeded by Hymen must not Hymen be preceded by a notary?
It is necessary, therefore, to the end that the scenario of a gay piece shall satisfy the public, that when the dénouement is reached Ottavio shall wed Isabella, and his servant shall wed the soubrette. The notary comes to prepare the contract and to marry these young people. The old men never marry, and all their needs are to be satisfied by the apothecary. Should the notary by chance arrive in answer to their summons, it is for the purpose of drawing up their wills.
A wig with eight curls, a black gown, a bourgeoning nose pinched by enormous spectacles, an empty belly, a great foot, a cane in one hand to sustain this ponderous individual, and a portfolio in the other to balance him, shaking his head, smiling at everyone, he enters—the desired, the indispensable, the triumphant notary! He salutes the company, blows his nose and mops his brow, for he is a man of importance. After the customary pinch of snuff proffered him by Cassandro, he takes a chair, extracts his papers from his portfolio, seeks for a long time his pen which is behind his ear, and on the score of which he disturbs the entire household. It is Columbine who eventually finds it, thrust into his wig. The company sits; a circle is made, whilst the Notary cuts his pen, plucked, he says, from the right wing of Eros, and destined to cement the happiness of the future spouses. Finally, after testing the point upon his nail, and then trimming and retrimming it a little, after having taken off and replaced his spectacles a dozen times, as if to test the patience of his clients, he makes up his mind to receive the names, patronymics and qualities of the one part and the other part.
The actual business is speedily despatched, particularly if he has been primed beforehand. Sometimes, it is true, discussions arise, and everything is on the point of being broken off. Throughout these he remains impassive. Sometimes he comes to draw up the contract of the guardian, and it is signed by the lover. This may enrage others, but it matters not at all to him. All that concerns him is to have two signatures. With these he will depart quite satisfied, particularly if he has been well paid. Having pocketed his fee he will discuss the weather, he will yawn more than is polite, and he will sometimes permit himself to accept refreshment, and even to caress the chin of the soubrette, throwing her a roguish glance over the top of his spectacles. He never refuses to join the nuptial banquet, and he is capable of remaining at table for three days and three nights without weariness; he will never fail at each dessert to sing in a falsetto voice some old and playful couplet upon the charms and graces of the bride. Thereafter, pleased with his alleged witticisms, he will resume his eating.
There is, however, no company so good but that in the end it must be quitted. A nuptial banquet cannot last six years. The Notary will return home, supported by some of his clients, for his desire to return to his wife has been left in some of the bottles he has emptied.
Not always, however, does it happen that he is so hospitably treated. In those houses into which he comes to contravene by his ministry the desires of the true lovers, if he dares to rise from his chair to make a bow he will invariably sit down again upon nothing, to the great satisfaction and hilarity of the servants. Sometimes also his fee is laid across his back for him, after which he will not be seen again until the storm is over. At bottom he is always a good fellow, fearing his wife and the king, without any real evil in him, and residing at the corner of a street in all the cities of the world.
In the _Intronati_ company, the Notary was sometimes called Ser Neri, sometimes Ser Ghello, Ser Agapito or Ser Ciappelletto.
iii
In many Italian pieces the _Podestà_ or the _Bargello_ plays his part in the dénouement. Neither is ever loaded with a long or a difficult rôle. Their dress is severe, their manners insignificant, they represent the law in all its rigidity.
THE COMMISSARY, being of an inferior order, is treated more cavalierly in the Italian scenarii, as in the farces of Polichinelle.
THE COMMISSARY (_to his clerk_). Come, let us make haste, open your desk, shut the door, drive away the dogs, take a chair, blow your nose, leave a wide margin and write a large hand.
THE CLERK (_producing a large pen and a very small ink-horn_). Sir, let us get on if you please.
THE COMMISSARY. I shall soon be done. Accused, what is your name, surname, quality, birthplace, street, parish and lodging? Have you a father, a mother, brothers or relations? What are you doing in this town? Have you been here long? Whom do you visit? Where do you go? Whence are you come? Set it down, scribe. (_He strikes the shoulder of his clerk._)
THE CLERK (_dropping his ink-horn_). Oh, my shoulder is broken! Behold a crippled clerk!
THE COMMISSARY. That is _punctum interrogationis_, you ignorant devil! And you, accused, are you going to answer? Set it down that he has said nothing.
THE ACCUSED. How could I, sir, when——
THE COMMISSARY. Enough! Do you think I have time to listen to all your idiocies? Don’t you know that I have to see three rascals hanged to-day without counting you? Send word that the gang is not yet to set out. I have something here by which to increase it.
THE CLERK. Sir, the gang will not start until you join it.
(_Collection of Gherardi._)
iv
“_Avocats, procureurs and gens de chicane_,” as the song has it, received fairly sharp treatment in the Italian buffooneries and the French farces alike. In these the man of the robe is represented as more grasping and thieving than his clients. They were always mocked, ridiculed and presented with malice by the actors, to the delight of the audiences that witnessed their scenic misfortunes.
“The Chicanoux earned their living by being beaten,” says Rabelais. “The manner of it is as follows: When a monk, a priest, a usurer or a lawyer is ill-disposed towards a gentleman of his country, he sends him one of his Chicanoux. Chicanou will cite him to appear, will outrage him and utter impudent injuries against him according to his resources and instructions, until the gentleman, if he be not paralysed of wit and more stupid than a frog, is compelled to answer him with blows and sword-thrusts, or, better still, to fling him through a window or from the ramparts of his castle. That done, Chicanou becomes rich for four months, as if beatings were his proper harvests. For he will receive sound compensation from the monk, the usurer or the lawyer, and from the gentleman a reparation sometimes so excessive that the latter will lose all his property in it, with danger of perishing miserably in prison, as if he had struck the king.”
Many a spectator, after applauding the shower of blows with which Polichinelle rewarded this Grippeminaud or that Grapignan, would return home, considering with rage that a real Grippeminaud would come to summon him on the morrow. In Italy the naïve public would still to-day applaud the prowess of the “Seigneur de Basché daulbant sur Chicanoux,” especially in certain remote districts, where law and justice are no better loved or respected than they were of old; and in such places it is not always without danger for the manager or for the actor himself when a gentlemen in black comes to parade his venality and absurdities upon the boards. On the Italian stage in Paris these caricatures of men of the robe were usually played by Harlequin or Mezzetin, and Louis XIV., far from having any notion of reprimanding their satirical allusions, laughed at them and applauded them heartily.
In the following scene Grapignan is played by Harlequin.
THE THIEF. Is Master Grapignan at home?
GRAPIGNAN. Yes, sir. I am he.
THE THIEF. Sir, I am your servant.
GRAPIGNAN. Sir, I am yours.
THE THIEF. Knowing you to be the most honest advocate amongst advocates, I come to beg you to enlighten me by your advice on a little matter which has just happened to me.
GRAPIGNAN. What is the question?
THE THIEF. Sir, I was walking along the highway, when I was very roughly struck by a merchant, mounted on an old screw. When I asked him what he meant by it, he sided with his horse, got down and told me that the animal was not an old screw and that it was I myself who was that. Thereupon we quarrelled, and we came to blows, and as he did not happen to be the stronger I knocked him down. He got up and ran away. I ought to add that as we rolled along the ground some twenty-five or thirty pistoles fell from his pocket.
GRAPIGNAN. Ho! ho!
THE THIEF. I picked these up, and seeing that he had already run away I got on to his horse, and I rode on as if nothing had happened. Presently I learn, sir, that this rascal has been lodging a complaint against me, charging me with being a highway robber. I beg you to tell me whether there is about my action the least appearance of such a thing! Inform me, I beg of you, whither this affair is likely to lead me?
GRAPIGNAN. Faith! If the affair is conducted with heat it may very well lead you to the hangman. We must get you out of it. Did anybody see you?
THE THIEF. No, sir.
GRAPIGNAN. So much the better. To begin with we must lock up the horse. For if the merchant came to discover it, seeing that he has no other witness, he would not fail to have it interrogated upon the facts, and then you would be lost.
THE THIEF. There is nothing to be feared on that score. The old screw is incapable of unlocking its teeth.
GRAPIGNAN. Do not trust to that. Every day we behold dumb witnesses bringing about the downfall of the accused.
THE THIEF. The devil!
GRAPIGNAN. We must lose no time. We must begin by procuring witnesses at any price.
THE THIEF. But there was no one on the highway at that moment.
GRAPIGNAN. Never mind, never mind. We will discover someone who was there.... I have in mind a couple of Normans who sometimes work for me; but they will not undertake the matter save at a good price, for they have just issued from an affair in which without me ... you understand. (_He puts his hand on his neck in a gesture suggestive of hanging._) Also it is a fact that witnesses are very dear this year.
THE THIEF. How does that happen?
GRAPIGNAN. It is because no quarter is given them, they hang as many of them as they can discover.
THE THIEF. If it is only a matter of money, sir, here is my purse with twenty-four pistoles.
GRAPIGNAN. Heh! Heh! That may suffice for one witness, but there are two of them. Haven’t you anything else, any jewellery, any old diamond? On occasions like this, it is necessary to know how to bleed oneself.
THE THIEF. Here is a diamond worth another twenty pistoles, and here a watch, which may be worth twelve.
GRAPIGNAN. Well, well, out of love of you I might advance five or six pistoles myself. After that we’ll make our accounts.
THE THIEF. Do so, sir. I place myself in your hands, and I trust myself to your discretion.
GRAPIGNAN. Very well, then. It will be an extraordinary thing if, with my two witnesses, I do not have your accuser sent to the galleys. (_The thief departs._) Twenty-four pistoles on the one hand, a watch and a diamond on the other: is it not better that I should profit by these things than the provost? For this poor devil will undoubtedly be sent to the wheel without delay!
Such is M. Grapignan, who succeeds in robbing even highway robbers.
v
IL SBIRRO (the Constable) was ever a type greatly in vogue in the Italian comedy. He is the same personage as the _Sergent du Guet_ of the booth of Polichinelle, under the names of _Corporal Rogantino_, _Corporal Simone_, _Capo de gli Sbirri_, etc. Like the _Podestà_ (chief magistrate), this terrific personage appears but little in the course of the plot’s development.
[Illustration]
A vast felt hat, an enormous cloak, great strong boots, a long sword, enormous moustachios and a cardboard nose, and there you have the elements out of which to construct a constable. This raiment was always hung upon a nail behind the first wing. The whole could be put on like a dressing-gown, for it is often Harlequin, Mezzetin, Scapin or some other lackey who passes himself off as something that he is not. But let them have a care! For often at the moment when they least expect it there appears on the other side of the stage a real Sbirro, who moves silently in the shadow, wrapped to the eyes in his great cloak. But his heavy boots alone make so much noise that it would be necessary to be as deaf as Pandolfe not to hear him. What are the uses of this sombre personage? To execute justice upon the traitors and evildoers of the comedy. He was born anywhere. He is of any age, or rather he is so old that he is of none. He lives everywhere. He is, he has been, and he will be. He is as ancient as comedy. But his spirit is obtuse, and unpardonable mistakes are common with him. Being strong of hand and tight of grip, he is feared by all. Harlequin flees before him as though he were the plague. Mezzetin fears him more than fire, and the same is the case with the good Pierrot, although he has done nothing to draw upon himself the constable’s attention. Polichinelle alone is not afraid of him. He is his greatest enemy. On no single occasion have they met but that sound blows have been exchanged, and the Sbirro has not always issued in triumph from the contest. But what matter? He is strong in his conscience and the support of the law, and knows nothing but his duty.
vi
If the doctor was ridiculed on the Italian stage and in the comedies of Molière, the APOTHECARY was not spared. But this worthy corps of science triumphs in the person of _M. de Pourceaugnac_; he knows how to keep his place, and never in the slightest degree does he impinge upon the rights of the medical faculty.
“No, I am not a doctor,” says the apothecary to Eraste, “mine is not that honour, and I am but an apothecary, an unworthy apothecary, your servant.”
In _Le Malade Imaginaire_ M. Fleurant is the model apothecary; he is fully conscious of his worth, and does not jest on the subject of his drugs. He is no longer the simple Matassin who, to introduce his merchandise, seeks to deafen his client by bellowing its virtues in his ear.
In the plays of Gherardi he bears the most ridiculous names, like those of _Viseautrou_, _Cussiffle_ and _Clistorel_, and other kindred ones. Callot calls him Maramao, and dresses him in a manner but little different from the apothecaries to be seen in the comedies of Molière. He presents him with a cap on his head, an apron about his body, armed with his favourite weapon, which is as long as a culverin, and levelling it with precision at Cardoni.
In the Italian comedy the apothecary is treated still better than in the comedy-ballets of Molière. He plays a part, comes to mingle in the plot, and alludes to his art in metaphors and symbols.
“I am persuaded, sir” (he says, addressing the Doctor, whose daughter he seeks in marriage), “that a pierced chair would more aptly denote an apothecary than a sedan chair.” (He has been brought on in a sedan chair.) “But as such a vehicle would not put me in good odour with my mistress, I have had myself borne to your house in an elegant manner, to present you my respects and all the submission which pharmacy owes to medicine. I bring you a desperate patient, with whom simples are of no effect, and whose cure in itself will shed the highest credit upon your faculty.
“It is I, sir, who am both the patient and the illness; it is I who am diseased to my very marrow by this terrible ailment. It is I who am corroded by the perfections of Columbine. It is I who desire to marry her, and finally it is I who implore you to prescribe it me as a savoury decoction, which I shall swallow with delight. To the Doctor all the honour, and to the apothecary all the pleasure of it.”
XVII
SOME CARNIVAL MASKS
When it is considered that the greater part of the jests and the types of Molière are to be found grossly but energetically sketched in the Commedia dell’ Arte—that is to say, in the farces and parodies which, without announcement of author and without printed publication, assembled audiences for so many centuries before the appearance of the great Poquelin—there can be no doubt that the interest of our researches will be recognised just as it will be seen that they are without any pretensions to raise the subject above its exact literary value. For us it has been primarily an exploration in the archives of the eternal comedy. Other lights will come in the course of time to complete this work and to prove that the greatest comedian in the world is the people that inhabit it.
Apart from their types of comedy the Italians possess a crowd of other masks to be seen in the streets and public places during the last three consecutive days of Carnival. A great number of these masks had their birth in the theatres from which they have long since disappeared; but the majority are no more than the products of fancy or fashion: of these are the _Quacqueri_, who correspond to the French _Chicards_, and whose costume is a medley of ancient and modern fashions; the _Matti_ (fools), arrayed in long white shirts, wearing a nightcap and a white mask, the neck smothered in an enormous collar. Men and women dressed thus run with the crowd, performing a thousand follies, some with tambourines, some with baubles, but most of them armed with sticks from the end of which hangs a bladder or a wet sponge, with which they strike all the other masks they meet.
The costume of _Bajaccio_ or _Pagliaccio_ is still very much in favour during carnival, as is that of Pulcinella, both for men and women. The _Maghi_ (sorcerers) is a character adopted by graver folk, as is that of the _Abbatacci_, who, dressed entirely in black, saving for one white stocking, go aping the ways of advocates and other men of the robe. _Le Poverelle_ (female mendicants; a disguise for women) cover their faces with a white mask, release their hair, and let it fall upon their shoulders and dress entirely in white; the _Poverelle_ form into troupes and go in quest of alms, which consist of flowers, fruits and sweetmeats. Other disguises greatly in vogue are those of _Marinari_ and _Pescatori_ (sailors and fishermen), of _Giardinieri_ and _Giardiniere_ (male and female gardeners), _Cascherini_ (topers), _Scopetti_ (sweeps), etc.
In a collection entitled _Trattato su la comedia dell’ arte, ossia improvisa_, a title but little justified by the reproduction of five masks of the Italian comedy, Francesco Valentini published in Berlin in 1826 a volume containing a large quantity of these carnival costumes. It would be impossible to give a better idea of the scenes that were to be witnessed during Carnival than by translating some passages from Valentini’s sketch:
“I am now compelled” (he writes), “so as to render my little treatise as little incomplete as possible, to present some little scenes which take place in the streets of Rome. And that I may succeed in this, I beg that in imagination you will transport yourselves with me to some place in the neighbourhood of the Corso, where our theatre is set up.
“It is the twentieth hour (in other words, two o’clock in the afternoon), and no one is yet to be seen. The sky is overcast, but the weather will be safe; it will not snow.
“Behold! here already is a Pulcinella, playing a trumpet, leaping and talking. Let us listen. He complains of the indolence of the masks; it is after two o’clock, and they are not yet ready; a very little more would induce him to beat them. He departs quite angrily, protecting his better half, who leans upon his arm.
“Suddenly there is a great noise; a Harlequin, walking on tiptoe, lantern in hand, leads the way for a _Quacquero_ and his lady, the _Quacqueressa_; with him comes a _Bajaccio_ under an open sunshade. What the devil’s this, my friend, a sunshade and a lantern? Night and sunshine? Yonder our desolate Pulcinella is returning, and he who lately was lamenting is now at the very summit of hilarity; he has just met another Pulcinella, to whom he relinquishes his wife. Reciprocal joy. Here comes an _Abbataccio_ and here two or three _Quacqueri_, _Poverelle_, _Sbirri_, _Micheletti_; and last a Captain _Fracasso_ in argument with a Tartaglia:
“‘If you don’t return at once to the galleys I will cut you in two, piece of a thief!’
“‘_Vo ... i ... v’in ... ga ... gannate_,’ replies Tartaglia, ‘_io non sono ... chi ... chi ... rícer ... ca ... ca ... cacate_’ (You are mistaken, I am not he whom you are seeking).
“Listen, listen to the Harlequins, crying as they run: _Chi ... ... chi ... chichirichi chic ... chirichi!_
“Turn now to this _Abbataccio_, a book under his arm, who with the assistance of other masks has just seized upon a poor imbecile of a peasant, who has come to see the Roman carnival, and who certainly never expected to become an actor in this farce: ‘You are my debtor,’ he bellows at him, ‘these last two years, these last two centuries. Your grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, or, if you prefer it, your archi-great devil of a father, who was my man of affairs, wrote me a bill of exchange. Don’t you believe it? Do you deny the patent truth? I am going to show it to you.’ With that he opens his book, which turns out to be nothing but a flour box, blows into it, and thus almost blinds the poor peasant, who was gaping at him. He becomes the butt of the laughter and ridicule of all who are present. A mask in the dress of a groom comes to rub him down; the sweeps sweep him, and a fool mystifies him. The peasant attempts to depart, but at this moment a Doctor, an Apothecary and some Matassins insist upon offering him their services. ‘He has turned pale,’ cries one, pointing to his flour-covered face, ‘he is about to die.’ He gets away at last and darts round a corner of the street, followed by his mockers, of whom heaven alone knows when he will succeed in ridding himself.
“What is this noise? What is happening? ‘A Spectre, a Spectre!’ (_una Fantasima!_) cries someone, and you behold the Pulcinelli, Arlecchini, Brighelli, Pantaloni cutting a thousand capers of terror. Captain _Ammazzasette_ (Rodomont) puts his hand to his sword and runs to meet the phantom, which lengthens itself almost indefinitely, and then disappears, to the great shouts of the assembly.
“Observe this crowd, listen to this noise! Here comes the cause of it: a well-harnessed donkey, bearing the king of the Polichinelles with two little Polichinelles, his sons, seated in the panniers. His court, consisting of thirty or forty Polichinelles, escorts him, playing all conceivable instruments. This general masquerade is extraordinary, capricious and very droll. Consider that no two wear the same head-dress; one wears a huge wig, another a basket, some an evil hat, others go with shaven heads, and yet another bears a cage with birds in it.”
This scene is illustrated in the work, and indeed each Pulcinella wears a fantastic head-dress. But the remainder of the costume is invariable. It consists of a sort of round skirt in grey linen bordered with red or blue, descending to the knee; the front of this blouse, open upon the breast, ends in a heart of red cloth. The trousers, similarly decorated with red or blue, are wide and do not go below the ankle. These garments are caught to the figure by a cord, from which hangs a copper bell, similar to that which mountaineers hang about the necks of their cattle. The mask is black or brown, the cap traditionally pointed, whilst the wide ruff and the black shoes complete the costume of the Pulcinella of carnival, such as he was in 1826.
“Along the Corso, from end to end, the people swarm like ants. There is no window that is not crowded with sightseers. And how varied is the assembly! Here ranks, ages and sexes are all intermingled and confounded. Joy, gaiety and good humour rule; pleasantries, practical jokes, laughter, nosegays and clouds of flour on this side, and a rain of flowers on the other, long queues of carriages filled with masks, and ancient coaches on which the youthful nobility of Rome is representing the abduction of Proserpine. Next we see women disguised as officers, as sailors, as natives of Frascati or Albania. Two squadrons of ancient warriors on cardboard horses engage furiously in combat, and so on. The revels conclude with races of unfettered and unmounted horses down the middle of the Corso. Such is the Roman carnival until the hour of the Angelus, at the sound of which everyone unmasks, and all go to conclude the day at the theatre, at a soirée, or at home. Shrove Tuesday being the last day, the Angelus bell is impotent to command obedience; all retain their masks and then begins the scene of the _Moccoli_, too well known to need reporting here.”
After alluding thus superficially to some of the masks of the Roman carnival, we may not pass in silence over several singular fantastic and religious types, indispensable to all the scenarii of mystery plays performed by the marionettes in Italy and in a less degree elsewhere. These are Satana or the Devil, Mago or the Warlock, L’Incantatrice or the Fairy, the Good Genius, the Archangel Michael and all the spirits who preside over the elements, over nature, and so on. These personages, the last surviving vestiges of the mystery plays, have marched down the centuries step by step with the masks. The moment that an Italian scenario departs from absolute reality it invariably falls into the marvellous. The _fiabesco_, or fairy style, reached its highest diapason in the eighteenth century at the hands of Carlo Gozzi.
XVIII
CARLO GOZZI AND CARLO GOLDONI
At the end of the eighteenth century, when the Italian comedy was dying in France, having been fused into comic opera and French comedy, it was also expiring in a literary sense in Italy, but not without one last flicker, perhaps the most brilliant of all since the days of Ruzzante.
Carlo Gozzi did for the Commedia dell’ Arte the very opposite of that which had been done by Beolco (Ruzzante). The latter had protested against the academic language of his day. He had enthroned the dialects upon the stage, and proved that this rustic speech was the only one suitable to rustic and bourgeois pieces. Some two hundred years later, towards 1750, Carlo Gozzi, finding the Italian language softened by the various schools of literature through which it had passed, considered it a fitting vehicle to convey the ideas of all classes; and after a stern and derisive fight with the theatre of Goldoni, which was imbued with the Venetian spirit, he became the exclusive poet, the absolute master of an excellent company. Sacchi, the principal of this company, had with him some precious actors, and he himself was a Truffaldino of the very first rank.
“Never again,” says Gozzi himself, “shall we see a Truffaldino like Sacchi, a Brighella like Zanoni or a Tartaglia like Fiorilli, this Neapolitan full of fire, and so justly famous throughout Italy. Nor shall we see again such another Pantaloon as Darbés, this comedian self-contained or impetuous at will, majestic, stupid and so true to life that the Venetian citizen thinks to see himself mirrored upon the stage when he beholds this perfect model of his absurdities. La Smeralda was an angel in grace, a butterfly in lightness. With three words these people knew how to play a scene so as to make their audiences die of laughter. Never would they have suffered a piece to fail on its first performance. Sooner would they have manufactured another one on the spot. It was necessary that the spectators should laugh for their money, for the players were honest, and not for the devil himself would they have returned the price of the tickets. I lived with them for ten years amid noise, quarrels, storms and injuries, and all with so much pleasure that I would not exchange those ten years for all the rest of my life. They would have burned Venice for me. Alas! everything comes to an end. The extinction and dispersion of the company is one of my greatest sorrows. Goldoni placed his trust in imposing and deceptive words; and words are omnipotent with spirits of narrow limitations; his pieces will perhaps return to the surface, whilst my poor fables, if once forgotten, will never see the light again.”
These poor fables, which indeed are very much forgotten in Italy, and very little known elsewhere, are none the less destined to live in the archives of the Commedia dell’ Arte. They are not exactly scenarii, the rôles being succinctly and wittily written, particularly in those parts in which the actors had to express serious or passionate sentiments, which in the main are difficult to improvise.
“I flatter myself” (he says) “to have been of use to the company and to the art. Who could count all that out of complaisance I have written for them of prologues and of farewells in verse, of scenes to be interposed, of compliments for pretty actresses who were passing through, of additions to the farces, of soliloquies, of despairs, of menaces, of reproaches and of prayers?”
The scenarii of the pieces of Gozzi might simply be called fairy tales in action, the _fiabesco_ or, as it were, the fabulous. They are very pretty stories, and their principal scenic merit lies in the alternation of burlesque with dramatic situation. Gozzi himself called them nursery tales, but if so they are written by a very poetical nurse for no less poetical nurslings. Hoffmann steeped himself in them to produce his fantastic tales. M. Paul de Musset, in one of his writings full of grace and good sense, upon modern Italy (_Revue des Deux-Mondes_), has characterised perfectly the bizarre genius of the Italian librettist and that of the German narrator.
The principal pieces of Carlo Gozzi are: _The Love of the Three Oranges_, _The Raven_, _The King Stag_, _Turandot_, _The Woman Serpent_, _The Happy Beggars_, _The Blue Monster_, _La Zobéide_ and _The Green Bird_. These subjects gave scope to improvisation, to fancy and to that immense share held by a group of inventive and witty actors in the success of a theatrical work.
Gozzi was surnamed the Aristophanes of the Adriatic. But the Signora Teodora Ricci supervened. “_Amour, tu perdis Troie!_” Gozzi, who until then had allowed himself to be cajoled by all the charming comediennes of the company, fell in love with the Signora Ricci, who had no talent whatever. Sacchi, the old Truffaldino, was the rival of the poet, his best friend. The other actresses became jealous, and the men took sides in the contest. The end of it was the dispersal of the company. Gozzi found himself compelled to change his style. He followed the example of Goldoni, whom he had so consistently mocked, he wrote and arranged plays in the foreign taste for Signora Ricci, with the result that his dramatic genius was extinguished in compilation.
Happily the secret fire of his active genius was re-ignited, and his spirit revealed itself under a different form. He turned to the writing of satires—“the best fruits borne by this fecund tree.”
“The year 1797,” says M. Paul de Musset, “arrived. Gozzi witnessed the fall of his country as a result of treachery, its abandonment by the French general, the entrance of the German bayonets and the derisive election of Doge Manin, his friend. Heaven alone knows what had become in this conflict of the Pantaloons and Truffaldini! The year of Carlo Gozzi’s death is not even known. Nor do we know the year in which he was born. This bizarre genius passed like one of those comets whose course we have not the time to study.”
It may be well to cite some fragments and reflections of Carlo Gozzi on the nature and the history of the Commedia dell’ Arte, and particularly of the success scored by this genre in Germany.
“The improvised comedy, known as the Commedia dell’ Arte, was in all times the most useful to the troupes of Italian comedians. It has existed for three hundred years. It has always been attacked but never conquered. It seems impossible that certain men of our day, who pass for authors, should not perceive that they are ridiculous when they condescend to step from their importance to an amusing anger against a Brighella, a Pantaloon, a Doctor, a Tartaglia or a Truffaldino. This anger, which appears to be the result of intoxication, clearly shows that in Italy the Commedia dell’ Arte survives in all its vigour the shame of the persecutions exerted against it.
“I consider sound impromptu comedians as of much greater worth than improvising poets who, without saying anything of any sense, captivate the attention of those assemblies gathered to hear them.
“The improvised Italian comedy, called _dell’ arte_, is very ancient and very much more ancient than the regular and written Italian comedies. It had its beginnings in Lombardy, whence it spread through Italy and penetrated into France, where it is still to be found. In the sixteenth century it was no more permitted to women to be present at improvised comedies than at written ones. Both styles alike had become too licentious. We may judge of the obscenities of the written pieces, but not of those which were improvised, and which we know only from tradition.[6] These two styles were always in rivalry.
“In the time of the Austrian emperors Leopold, Joseph and Charles VI., the French comedians made all possible efforts to keep their place in the two theatres of Vienna. But they were dismissed by these emperors, who desired none but German and Italian comedians in their theatres, and of these they gave preference to those of their own nation. The Vienna companies of comedians followed the same working methods as those of Italy, and the improvised comedy which we call Commedia dell’ Arte was preferred. Weiskern, Heindrich, Leinhaus, Prehauser, Kurz, Jacquedt, Stéphanie, Muller, Breuner, Gottlieb, La Huberin, La Nutin, La Elizonin, and La Schwagerin were clever performers who played improvised comedy in German.
“Il Ganzachi, an able Italian comedian of our acquaintance, who speaks German very fluently, went to reinforce the Vienna company with the personnel and the material of our own theatre. Weiskern and Heindrich played old men’s parts; Leinhaus played Pantaloon in German with a Venetian accent; Prehauser played Hanswurst, a sort of second Zanni; Kurz played Bernardone; Brenner was seen as _Il Burlino_ (the jester); Gottlieb as a village idiot; La Nutin, La Elizonin, and La Schwagerin played the feminine rôles, and all were as much beloved by the public as are Sacchi, Fiorilli, Zanoni, Darbés, Coralina and Smeraldina by ours.
“The detractors of this style claimed to have buried it. Improvised comedy, they said, no longer exists even in Italy; everywhere now comedy is recited from memory. But anyone who cares to look at the manuscript which serves as a guide to these excellent comedians will find a single sheet of paper placed near a little lamp, for the greater convenience of the entire troupe; upon this sheet is the whole matter from which ten to twelve persons will keep an audience in laughter for three hours, and conduct to its proper conclusion the story set forth.
“To give our reader a specimen of the guide which suffices for our improvising comedians, I will transcribe here a subject which I read by the light of the little theatre lamp, without adding or subtracting a single word. It is that of _The Broken Contracts_, which we see performed several times each year, and always with success.
ACT I
LEGHORN
BRIGHELLA enters the stage, sees no one and calls.
PANTALOON enters, simulates fear.
BRIGHELLA wants to leave his service.
PANTALOON recommends himself to him.
BRIGHELLA is touched, and promises him his assistance.
PANTALOON says that his creditors demand payment, especially Truffaldino, and that this is the last day allowed him, etc.
BRIGHELLA pacifies him.
At this moment:
TRUFFALDINO. Scene in which he demands payment.
BRIGHELLA finds a way to fend him off.
PANTALOON and BRIGHELLA remain.
At this moment:
TARTAGLIA, at the window, listens.
BRIGHELLA perceives this. Plays a scene with Pantaloon pretending wealth.
TARTAGLIA comes down into the street to pretend to beg alms of Pantaloon. In the end they agree upon the marriage of the daughter of Tartaglia and the son of Pantaloon.
At this moment:
TRUFFALDINO says that he wants his money.
BRIGHELLA pretends that Pantaloon gives it to him. When this has happened three times all go off.
FLORINDO speaks of his love for Rosaura and of the hunger that torments him. He knocks.
ROSAURA listens to his protestations, wants to put him to the test, and asks for a present.
FLORINDO says this is not possible at the moment as he has no means.
ROSAURA bids him wait, telling him that she will make him a present, and goes off.
FLORINDO remains.
At this moment:
SMERALDINA, with a basket which she gives to Florindo, and goes off.
FLORINDO eats.
BRIGHELLA, having heard that Rosaura has sent this basket, steals it and escapes.
FLORINDO follows him.
LEANDRO speaks of his love for Rosaura. He seeks to deceive Pantaloon.
At this moment:
TARTAGLIA comes on, speaking to himself of the great wealth of Pantaloon.
LEANDRO asks for the hand of his daughter.
TARTAGLIA replies that she is affianced to the son of Pantaloon.
LEANDRO is astonished; he makes a scene, etc., etc.
“From this textually rendered sheet” (says Gozzi) “comes the comedy _I Contratti Rotti_, and from more than four hundred other formulæ as concise as this come all our Commedia dell’ Arte. Such plays as these are not at the mercy of the sudden illness of an actor, or the fact that another has been recently recruited; a simple arrangement, broadly made, concerning the basis of the scenic action, suffices for a successful performance. At the moment of taking up the curtain it often happens that the description of the rôles is changed according to circumstances, the relative importance or the ability of the actors. Nevertheless the comedy marches happily and gaily to its conclusion. Not a year passes but that some scenes are added or subtracted from the argument, and a simple announcement made to the company is all that is needed for the change to be ably executed. It will be seen that these clever actors work upon the very basis of their subjects, establishing always their scenes upon different foundations, and filling in the dialogue with so much variety that they are always new and perdurable. I have frequently heard these improvisors reproach themselves with having badly established (_mal piantato_) some scene or other, and proceed to re-establish it at once by excellent arguments in such a way as to prepare their companions for a fresh attempt.
“It is very true that in this style of comedy some serious actors, and more particularly some actresses, have a very arsenal of premeditated material committed to memory, material which serves for intercessions, for reproaches, for threats, for the expression of despair and for sentiments of jealousy; but it is none the less surprising to see that, face to face with the public and improvising with other improvisors, they are able to hold this material in readiness, and to select from the mass with which their brains are stored, that which is suitable to the occasion, expressing it with energy, and earning the applause of the spectators.
“Such is the system of our improvised comedy, a glorious art which our nation alone can claim for its own, and one that, in the course of three centuries, has by no means exhausted its wit.
“It would take too long to enumerate the four hundred and more subjects which are continually being renewed in the dialogues. The clever actors who succeed the clever actors who die suffice to give an eternal aspect of novelty to these subjects. We see Roderigo Lombardi, an excellent Doctor, replaced by Agostino Fiorilli, a clever Tartaglia, renewing each subject merely by the differences that lie between their respective talents. A single new original personage suffices to revive the originality of the entire company.”
Gozzi informs us, however, that the authors of his day, and notably Goldoni, wrote their dialogue after the first performance, and published the scenarii which had been successful in the hands of improvising comedians. For the rest, the majority of Italian comic authors have proceeded thus. Nearly all the comedies of the seventeenth century are extracted from old improvised scenarii of which Gozzi gives us a very curious although very incomplete list. He cites among others: “The famous Domenico Biancolelli, who has caused to be performed in dialogue a very large number of improvised Italian scenarii. His comedies are printed, but they have remained unfruitful, whilst the very same subjects, treated by improvisation, are still greatly appreciated in the theatre.” He further tells us that comedies written and recited by comedians who memorise them, which had never succeeded in bringing together sixty spectators, would attract a crowd from the moment that the improvisors took possession of the subject to embroider it in their own manner.
Many plays written up after the first performance, and published in the _sostenuta_ form, have served none but reading purposes. The comedians _dell’ arte_ took no notice of them, preferring their old dry and succinct résumés, which left their wit very much more free and untrammelled.
But whatever Gozzi may say, he has followed, like Goldoni, the extremely felicitous mixed style, half-memorised, half-improvised. It remains, however, that this mixed style could only be treated successfully by an original spirit, and one sufficiently in sympathy with his actors to leave them a free hand. It was a style that ended with himself. All that remained of it after him was the custom in Italy to cause certain comic masks to appear in the course of all sorts of performances.
Carlo Goldoni began, like Gozzi, and before Gozzi, by writing scenarii for the Commedia dell’ Arte. Numerous traces of this must remain in Italy, but Goldoni himself refused to edit these skeletons, of which he was unjustly ashamed, until he had written them anew with full dialogue, and thereby changed and converted them into complete plays. We have seen Gozzi reproach him with having ruined, by means of this cold work, many felicitous subjects in which the improvisors shone, subjects which, for the rest, were of no use to the comedians of his day in their new form, or else (according to Gozzi) were of use only for performance at banquets.
The quarrel between these two authors and their adherents was a very lively one. Both had a deal of merit; Goldoni’s was the greater wisdom, observation and reality, Gozzi’s the better invention, wit and originality. Both began in the same way by leaving an open field to improvisation. Little by little each felt the need to write up the rôles, and to substitute his own personality for those of the comedians. Both followed for some time the mixed style—that is to say, writing up the serious rôles, and leaving the rôles of the masks to improvisation. In the end both brought about the disappearance of the latter, Gozzi in spite of himself, and with infinite regret for his beloved Sacchi company; Goldoni, on the other hand, with the deliberate resolve to suppress masks and dialects, or to relegate them to a place of secondary importance. Thus he no longer permits them to improvise, but himself writes their dialogues for them. It was upon this ground that Gozzi was able victoriously to attack him. That which is written for improvisors is of necessity pale, cold and heavy, and it would be far better not to see Truffaldino or Tartaglia at all than to see them gagged by the logic of the author.
The sentence of death which Goldoni attempted to pronounce against the Commedia dell’ Arte is fully set forth in his piece entitled _Il Teatro Comico_, which he himself has placed at the head of his collection (edition of Turin, 1756), declaring it to be a sort of preface to his work. There is very little that is amusing in this comedy; it is rather to be considered a critical piece; but it is of interest to students of the history of this style.
A theatrical director is rehearsing some new actors in a fresh piece, and dissertating at length upon the subject:
ORAZIO (_the manager of the company_). You see that it is very necessary to procure actors who are united by a literary convention; without that they will usually fall into the trite or the unnatural.
EUGENIO (_the second lover in the company_). Then it becomes necessary entirely to suppress the improvised comedy?
ORAZIO. Entirely, no! It is as well that Italians should continue masters of an art which other nations had not the courage to create. The French are in the habit of saying that Italian comedians are very daring to risk making impromptu speeches to the public; but that which may be called temerity on the part of ignorant comedians is a fine quality with comedians of ability, and, to the honour of Italy and the glory of our art be it said, there are still many excellent personages who bear triumphantly and meritoriously the admirable prerogative of speaking impromptu with as much elegance as the poet may achieve in writing.
EUGENIO. But usually the masks are at a loss when they utter what is premeditated.
ORAZIO. When what is premeditated is brilliant, graceful, well suited to the character of the personage which is to utter it, all good masks will learn it gladly.
EUGENIO. Would it not be possible to suppress masks in character comedies?
ORAZIO. Woe to us were we to attempt such an innovation! It is not yet time to risk it. In all things we must not offend universal taste. In other times the public attended comedy only to laugh, and they desired to see no other actors on the stage but the masks. Did the serious characters render the dialogue a little too long, at once they grew weary; to-day they have learned to listen to serious rôles, to enjoy words, to be interested by events, to favour the moral, to laugh at the sallies and altercations derived from the serious itself. But the masks are still beheld with pleasure, and it is not necessary to withdraw them altogether. Rather let us seek to limit their conventions and to bridle their ridiculous characters.
EUGENIO. But this is a very difficult way of composing.
ORAZIO. It is a way that has lately been rediscovered, and to which we devote ourselves. Very soon we shall see the most fertile wits rising to improve it, as is desired with all his heart by him who invented it.
Notwithstanding this naïvely perfidious attitude, Goldoni did not dare until very late entirely to suppress the masks; but he had so completely transformed them that they might well look upon him as their assassin. Success abandoned him in a measure as he denaturalised the national taste in the speeches of these personages, who, thanks to him, came to utter dialogues in the French fashion—that is to say, like lackeys and soubrettes imitating their masters. He acknowledged himself beaten, became a Frenchman, and produced in France _Le Bourru Bienfaisant_; that, after all, was his real genre.
It is none the less true, and Gozzi himself recognised it, that Goldoni had worked for the Italian theatre, especially at the beginning, in a felicitous and amusing manner. His Venetian pieces are still quite charming, notwithstanding the narrower and heavier garb which he gave them in redressing them for his readers. Compelled to leave the Venetian dialect to his principal comic personages, he has contrived to produce some real characters for the comedy of manners. Nevertheless the sum total of his theatrical work does not sufficiently justify the title awarded him of the _Italian Molière_. If any Italian genius deserves such a comparison it is the genius of Ruzzante, who at once actor and author was, like our great Poquelin, nourished upon Plautus and Terence, upon whom, like him again, he improved considerably.
FOOTNOTES
[1] The names of Demetrio and Cornelio continued to be adopted in the theatre for old men’s rôles, particularly in memorised comedies, such as _La Vedova, comedia facetissima_ by Nicolò Buonaparte, a citizen of Florence, 1643.
[2] Aldo Manuzio, the famous Venetian printer of the fifteenth century (_sta zovene bella à muo un papagà in stampa d’Aldo_).
[3] _Les Bigarrures et touches du seigneur des Accords_, _Les Apophthegmes du sieur Gaulard_ and _Les Escraignes dijonnoises_ (1560), as well as the _Vaillans faits d’armes de Bolorospe_ (1633), must have supplied Turlupin with matter to be embroidered and amplified into texts of the style of the following:—
“... Habillé de vert (de gris), parfumé (comme un jambon) d’odeur (de sainteté), et enveloppé d’un manteau (de cheminée). Il rencontre une dame parée d’une belle robe (d’avocat), d’une fine fraise (de veau) et d’une riche côte (de melon), bordée, d’un filet (de vinaigre).” Then follows the description of his hero: “Il a un corps (de garde), une tête (d’épingle), un cou (de tonnerre), des épaules (de mouton), des bras (de mer), une main (de papier), un pied (de cochon), un dos (d’âne), une langue (étrangère), une haleine (de savetier). Il était fort bien vêtu, il avait de belles chemises de toile (d’araignée), un rabat de point (du jour), une culotte (de bœuf).... Sa maison était bâtie de pierres (philosophales), soutenue de piliers (de cabaret), et on y entrait par deux cours (de chimie), d’où on montait vingt-cinq degrés (de chaleur), et on se trouvait dans une grande chambre (de justice).... Il courait à la chasse suivi d’une meute de chiens (-dent), de quatre valets (de pique), montés sur des chevaux (de frise) portant des lacs (d’amour) et des filets (de canards).... Il visitait souvent ses châteaux (en Espagne), ses terres et ses champs (de bataille) ... et mourut d’une chute (d’eau), etc., etc.”
[4] The site of the gallows.
[5] In the _Collier de Perles_, performed in 1672, Harlequin, who plays the part of a certain Marchese di Sbrofadel, having swallowed a medicine, imagines himself at the point of death. He summons a notary to make his will. The Doctor goes out and returns with Tartaglia, who plays the notary.
TARTAGLIA. Ser ... ser ... servant illustri ... tri ... tri ... trious.
HARLEQUIN. This notary is from Tripoli.
TARTAGLIA (_sits down, draws pen and paper and begins to write_). L’an ... an ... an ... an....
HARLEQUIN. Que l’on mène cet âne à l’écurie!...
TARTAGLIA. _I ... i ... i ... io son ... son ... sono presto._
HARLEQUIN. _Va, bene!_ I leave this house to the Doctor.
THE DOCTOR. But the house is mine!
HARLEQUIN. I know, that is why I am leaving it to you: if it were not yours I should not leave it to you. I leave my cabinet to my cousin.
TARTAGLIA (_writing_). My ca ... ca ... ca....
HARLEQUIN. Faites vite retirer ce notaire, il va salir tous les meubles.
TARTAGLIA. ... binet! à mon cou ... cou ...
HARLEQUIN. I leave sixty-five acres of broadcloth to dress my family in mourning.
THE DOCTOR. You are making a mistake. Cloth is not measured by the acre.
HARLEQUIN. It seems to me that a man may measure his own property as best he pleases.
TARTAGLIA. Pou ... pou ... pou ... pour habiller ma famille en feuille.
HARLEQUIN. Je laisse à _Lallemand_, mon valet de chambre....
TARTAGLIA. Un lavement à mon valet de chambre.
HARLEQUIN. Lallemand! et non lavement.
TARTAGLIA (_writing always under the dictation of HARLEQUIN_). _Si si ... si ... si ... signor_, il y a bien lavement ... ent ... ent ... ent.
HARLEQUIN. Je laisse toutes mes vielles nippes à la fripière, ma voisine.
TARTAGLIA (_repeating_). Tou ... tou ... toutes mes vieilles tri ... tri ... tripes, à la tri ... tri ... tripière, ma voisine.
HARLEQUIN. _Ohimé!_ ce notaire-là n’en peut plus; il faudrait lui donner une médecine pour lui faire évacuer les paroles...! Je laisse vingt écus à mon cuisinier, à condition qu’il dépendra de mon frère cadet.
TARTAGLIA. Qu’il pend ... pendra mon frère cadet.
HARLEQUIN. Enfin, je laisse au notaire ci-présent, une langue de pore pour mettre à la place de la sienne.
TARTAGLIA. Po ... po ... po ... porc toi-même!
Harlequin gives him a kick which sends him flying, together with his pens, paper, portfolio and ink-horns. Tartaglia gets up, his face covered with ink, and goes off in such a rage that he is unable to articulate intelligible sounds.
[6] On this score Gozzi is absolutely mistaken, so far at least as Ruzzante is concerned, whom evidently he had never read. Ruzzante’s pieces, as we have said, are never licentious, and virtuous women attended their performance. “_Ad audiendas eas hominum tam mulierum concursus_,” says B. Scardeon. This is further proved by the prologues which Beolco himself recited, and in which he frequently addressed himself to the good and beautiful ladies of the audience, sometimes rebuking them upon the exaggerated fashions of their toilettes, sometimes speaking to them of faithful love and of conjugal love in the most naïve, and at the same time the most idealistic manner. In the _Gelosia_, of Lasca (1581), there is a prologue addressed entirely to ladies, as is also the case with _Il Granchio_, of Salviati (1566) and several other comedies of the sixteenth century.
INDEX
A
Achæus, i. 9
Acrobates, i. 10
Actresses, in ancient Rome, i. 14; in fourth and fifth centuries, 22; in sixteenth century, 29; morals of, 180; admitted to the Italian stage, ii. 77; admitted to the French stage, 79; dancing essential to, 80; in Beolco’s plays, 80; in the Renaissance, 133
Adami, Patricia, plays soubrette parts, i. 44; in Paris, 162; marries Agostino Lolli, 163
_Adamo, L’_, described, i. 254
Adelphi Theatre, Legrand plays at, i. 230
Æschylus, i. 9; ii. 53
Aigremont, Mlle d’, cantatrice, ii. 73
Alborghetti, pantaloon, i. 49
Alvarotto, Marco, Beolco’s letter to, i. 303; plays Menego, ii. 101
_Amante Romanesque, L’_, scene from, ii. 152
_Amants Magnifiques, Les_, Louis XIV. plays in, ii. 83
Amelia, Martino d’, i. 25; ii. 256
_Amour des Trois Oranges, L’_, produced, i. 100
_Anconitana, La_, quotations from, i. 236; ii. 132
Andreini, Francesco, in Scala’s company, i. 37; his career, 149; as author, 150; his preface to Scala’s collection, 240
Andreini, Giovanni-Battista, heads the Uniti Company, i. 89; his birth, 149; plays Lelio, 150; biographical note of, 254; his _L’Adamo_, 254; his _Teatro Celeste_, 255; other works by, 256
Andreini, Isabella, i. 38; her marriage, 149; plays Isabella, 162; in France, 239; her distinguished career, ii. 135
_Anfiparnasso, L’_, ii. 57
Angeleri, Giuseppe, plays Brighella, ii. 167
Apothecary, the, described, ii. 273
Apuleius quoted, i. 60
Argens, Marquis d’, on morals of actresses, i. 180
Argieri plays Pulcinella, i. 113
Aristophanes, i. 10
Arlecchino. _See_ Harlequin
Arlequine, i. 173
_Arlequin Esprit Follet_, i. 95
_Arlequino Proteo_, i. 164
_Arlequin Poli par l’Amour_ quoted, ii. 151
_Artémire Délivrée_ quoted, i. 97
Arzigogolo, scene of, ii. 97
_Asinaria_ contrasted with Beolco’s _La Vaccaria_, ii. 128
Atella, theatre at, i. 11
Atellanæ, comedies so called, i. 11; licentious, 12; the source of the Commedia dell’ Arte, 32, 107
Augustus I. of Poland and Angelo Constantini, ii. 192 _et seq._
_Aulularia_ quoted, ii. 18
Aulus Gellius on ancient masks, i. 16
Aurelia, i. 41; described, ii. 139; played by B. Bianchi, 140
Aurelio. _See_ B. Ranieri
_Avocat Pour et Contre, L’_, scene from, ii. 221
B
Babron, Mlle, cantatrice, ii. 73
Bacelli, La, cantatrice, ii. 70
Bagnacavallo, Lidia di, i. 35; and A. Valerini, ii. 134
Baletti, Elena-Virginia, plays Flaminia, i. 149; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242; marries L. Riccoboni, 265; her career, ii. 165
Baletti, Giuseppe, goes to France, i. 268; married to La Dumalgé, ii. 86
Baletti, Luigi, plays Lelio, i. 50; at the Théâtre-Italien, 272; accidentally shot, 273
BALLERINA, THE, chapter on, ii. 75; Gertrude Boon, Violente and Mlle Hamoche, 83; La Camargo, 84; La Dumalgé, 86
Ballets, scenario of _La Verità_, ii. 81; Louis XIV. in, 82
Balli, Celesi, plays Pulcinella, i. 129
_Banqueroutier, Le_, scene from, i. 166
Barbançois plays Pulcinella, i. 113, 153
Barbera, La, success of, ii. 56
Barbieri, Niccolo, quoted, i. 152; on Zeccha, 192; on boys playing feminine rôles, ii. 78; on Isabella Andreini, 136; plays, 173; his _Supplica_, 173 _et seq._
Baron, the, of Sicilian origin, i. 28; a variant of Pantaloon, ii. 50
Bartolazzi, Margarita, i. 41; in _La Finta Pazza_, ii. 157
Bastolet, Mlle, cantatrice, ii. 72
Bathyllus, mime of the first century, i. 19
Beaumarchais and Mlle Mesnard, ii. 70
Begot, Anne, wife of Tabarin, i. 162
Belloni plays Pierrot, i. 212
Beltrame, of Milanese origin, i. 29; costume of, ii. 172; played by Barbieri, 173
Benozzi, Giovanna-Rosa, plays Silvia, i. 49; married to G. Baletti, 268; presents her son to the public, 272; her career, ii. 150; in _Arlequin Poli_, etc., 151; in _L’Amante Romanesque_, 152; in _The Portrait_, 154; her marriage, 155
Beolco, Angelo (Ruzzante), opens a career to Italian dialects, i. 26; his _La Rhodiana_ quoted, 99; Il Sitonno created by, 134; names of his soubrettes, 161; _La Vaccaria_ quoted, 235; _L’Anconitana_ quoted, 236; creates the modern theatre, 254; dialogue of, 276; chapter on, 279; compared with his predecessors, 280; his epitaph, 281; his stage companions, 282; his use of dialects, 283; his realism, 286; his letters, 287; his times, 288; dialogues quoted, 289 _et seq._; his letter to Alvarotto, 303; his methods, 308; his works, 309; characters introduced by, 311; dialogue quoted, ii. 14; women in his plays, 80; dialogue of, 102; _La Fiorina_ quoted, 121; _La Piovana_ quoted, 163; never licentious, 285 _f.n._
Bergerac, Cyrano de, boastfulness of, i. 145; quoted, 146
Berneri, Giuseppe, poem by, on Meo Patacca, i. 129; Marco Pepe, 132
Bertinazzi, Carlo, plays Harlequin, i. 49; succeeds Thomassin, 88; his début, 90; his talents, 91; his death, 93; Collé’s criticism of, 94; Grimm’s criticism of, 95
Bertoldino, _The Life of_, i. 183 _et seq._; on the stage, 191
Bertoldo, _The Life of_, i. 183 _et seq._; on the stage, 191
Bianchi, Brigida (Aurelia), i. 43, 44, 153; goes to France, 257; writes _L’Inganno Fortunato_, ii. 140
Bianchi, Giuseppe, plays Spezzafer, i. 153; ii. 140
Bianchi, Orsola, ii. 140
Biancolelli, Catarina, plays Columbine, i. 44, 67, 163; her début, 164; quotations from her rôles, 165 _et seq._; in Paris, 173
Biancolelli, Françoise-Marie-Apolline, plays Isabelle, i. 67; at the Comédie Italienne, ii. 141; her marriage with M. de Turgis, 147; pensioned, 150
Biancolelli, Giuseppe-Domenico (Domenico), Gherardi on, i. 77; defect in his voice, 84; melancholy character of, 91; father of Catarina, 163; Fournier on, 204; married to Orsola Corteze, ii. 141
Biancolelli, Pierre-François, plays under name of Dominique, i. 68; plays Trivelino, 98
Biancolelli, Teresa, plays Columbine, i. 49, 163
Biancolelli, Teresa (the younger), i. 163
Bibbiena, Cardinal of, his _La Calandra_, i. 280
Bigottini plays Harlequin, i. 95
Biologues, i. 90
Birrichino, rôle described, i. 134 _et seq._
Biscegliese, Il, of Neapolitan origin, i. 28; described by Musset, ii. 38; ejaculations of, 39; costume of, 40; in _Le Jettaturi_, 40
Bissoni, Giovanni, plays Scapino, i. 49; career of, ii. 182
Bobèche, ii. 118
Boon, Gertrude, ballerina, ii. 83
Borromeo, Cardinal Charles, i. 238; scenarii bearing his autograph, ii. 137
Bos, Abbé du, quoted, i. 13
Bosse, Abraham, plays Matamoros, i. 152
Boxwell, the English clown, i. 232
Brazier quoted, i. 196
Brighella, origin of, i. 27; Bergamese, 28, 45; contrasted with Harlequin, 64; in Venice, ii. 17; described, 161; descended from Epidicus, 163; costume of, 166; played by Angeleri and Zanoni, 167; witticisms of, 167
Brocantin, variant of Pantaloon, ii. 26
_Broken Contracts, The_, scenario of, ii. 287
Brosses, Président de, on improvisation, i. 32; on Meo Patacca, 131; on _La Serva Padrona_, ii. 54; on Italian opera, 55; on a performance at Verona, 61, 85
Bucco, i. 107; character of, 108
Buffoon, etymology of, i. 19
Burattino, gives his name to marionettes, i. 21; in Scala’s scenarii, 29; and Pedrolino, 202; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242 _et seq._; character described, ii. 252; and Pantaloon, 253
Burchiella, Lucio, plays the Doctor, ii. 31, 37
C
Cabotino, ii. 238
Cacasenno, _Life of_, i. 184 _et seq._; on the stage, 191
_Calandra, La_, performed at Lyons, i. 33; written, 286; quoted, ii. 256
Calcese, Andrea, plays Pulcinella, i. 112
Callot, his _Les Petits Danseurs_, i. 27, 63; engravings of Captains, 148; of Scaramouche, ii. 207; his engravings, 231, 235
Camargo, La, Ballerina, ii. 84
Camerani plays Scapino, ii. 183
Camille. _See_ Antonia Veronese
CANTATRICE, THE, i. 28; Elizabeth Danneret, 45; chapter on, ii. 52; some early singers, 56; rôle of, 59; Mlle Chantilly, 62; Deamicis, 66; La Piccinelli, 67; Mlle Collet, 69; La Colomba, 69; Bacelli, Zanarini, Mesnard and Ruette, 70; others, 72 and 73
CAPTAIN, THE, i. 26; of Neapolitan origin, 28; Spavento, 29; Cocodrillo, 35, 45; chapter on, 137; _The Braggart Captain_ quoted, 138; his bearing, 142; Matamoros, 143; European success of the type, 147; costumes of, 147; names of, 148; Spavento, 149; Rodomonte, 150; Rinoceronte, 152; Spezzafer, 152; costume of, in the eighteenth century, 155; Giangurgolo, 155; Il Vappo, 156; Rogantino, 157
Carlin. _See_ Carlo Bertinazzi
Carnival masks, ii. 275 _et seq._
Carpentier, plays Gillies, i. 213; his drunkenness, 215; his last appearance, 216
Casnar, i. 27, 107; the ancient Pantaloon, ii. 10
Casperle supplants Hanswurst, i. 128
_Cassandre aux Indes_ quoted, i. 275
Cassandrino, of Roman origin, i. 28; described, ii. 46
Cassandro, origin of, i. 27; in dialogue with Paillasse, 197; with Pierrot, 209; described, ii. 42; character created and developed, 45
Castil-Blaze quoted, ii. 54
Cavé, plays Scaramouche, ii. 227; his duel, 228
Cavicchio, in Scala’s scenarii, i. 29; described, ii. 254
Cecchini, Pietro-Maria, on comedy, ii. 77; plays Fritellino, 236
Celega in _La Vaccaria_, ii. 123
_Centaura, La_, described, i. 40
Champfleury, scenarii by, i. 125; on Deburau, 226; on the English Clown, 232
Chantilly, Mlle de. _See_ Madame Favart
Chapelle, famous Cassandro, ii. 45; anecdotes of, 46
Charlatans, in Athens and Sparta, i. 10; Istomachus, 18; Mondor, 41; ii. 238; in Italy and France, 239; Martin’s description of, 240
Chicanoux described, ii. 268
Ciavarelli, Alessandro, plays Scapino, ii. 183
Cicero, his friendship for Roscius, i. 18; quoted, 60
_Cid, Le_, i. 145
_Clizia, La_, played in Rome, i. 280
Cinedologues, i. 80
Cinthio, in dialogue with Pierrot, i. 210; played by M. A. Romagnesi, 259; costume of, 260; in _Colombine Avocat_, 260; and Mezzetin, ii. 190
Clairon, Hippolyte, ii. 80; on Volange’s failure, 118
Cleon, Roman mime, i. 18
Clown, the English version of Pierrot, i. 231; descendant of the Clowns of Shakespeare, 233; played by Giuseppe Grimaldi, 233; played by Joe Grimaldi, 234
Cocodrillo, Captain, played by Fornaris, i. 150
Colalto plays Pantaloon, ii. 29; his death, 30
Collé, his criticism of Bertinazzi, i. 94; his criticism of Deshayes, 178; of the sisters Veronese, ii. 177
Collet, Mlle, cantatrice, ii. 69
Colomba, La, her début, ii. 69
_Colombine Avocat_, dialogue from, i. 260
COLUMBINE, i. 41; Catarina Biancolelli, 44; Teresa Biancolelli, 49; in _L’Empereur dans la Lune_, 82 _et seq._; chapter on, 159; a soubrette, 162; Catarina Biancolelli, 163; speeches of, 164 _et seq._; in _Le Banqueroutier_, 166; in _L’Homme à Bonnes Fortunes_, 169; and Harlequin, 171; costume of, 173; Violette, 174; Coraline, 175; in scene from Gherardi, ii. 26; the daughter of Cassandro, 44; in dialogue with Isabella, 147
Comédie-Française makes war upon the forain theatres, i. 46
Comédie-Italienne, the “New” and the “Old,” i. 50; amalgamated with the Opéra-Comique, 52; styled “Théâtre des Italiens,” 53; Bertoldo at, 192
Comedy, ancient, i. 11 _et seq._
Comædiæ Planipediæ, i. 12
Commedia dell’ Arte, developed in Italy, i. 26; continuation of the Atellanæ, 28, 32; improvisation in, 30; Riccoboni’s hostility to, 267; Gozzi and Goldoni on, ii. 281
Commedia Sostenuta, i. 26
Commissary, the, ii. 267
Confidenti Troupe, i. 34, 37, 150
Constantini, Angelo, plays Mezzetino, i. 44; his career, ii. 185; succeeds Domenico, 186; anecdote of, 187; and Augustus I. of Poland, 192; his reappearance, 193; his death, 194
Constantini, Anna, plays Isabelle, ii. 157
Constantini, Antonio, plays Harlequin, i. 89
Constantini, Constantino, plays Gradelino, i. 45; career of, ii. 184
Constantini, Giovanni-Battista, plays Ottavio, i. 45; in Paris, 262; his services to France, 263; his character and death, 264
Coraline. _See_ Anna Veronese
Corneille, i. 145
Cornelio, Aloysio, patron of Beolco, i. 281 _et seq._
Corteze, Orsola, plays Eularia, i. 44; wife of Domenico, 67; her début, ii. 140
Corypheus created by Thespis, i. 9
Cotta Pietro, Riccoboni on, i. 266; endeavours to uplift comedy, 267
COVIELLO, i. 27; of Calabrese origin, 28; chapter on, ii. 231; in Callot’s engravings, 233; played by Salvator Rosa, 234; Fritellino, 235; Tabarino, 237; Burattino, 252; Cavicchio, 254; Ficcheto, 255
Crispin, costume of, i. 152; described, ii. 229
Croce, Giulio Cesare (Della Lira), i. 183; his poem, 185
D
Dancing. _See_ Ballerina
Danneret, Elizabeth, cantatrice, i. 45; ii. 59; in _Le Départ des Comédiens_, 60
Darbés, plays Pantaloon, ii. 30; Gozzi’s praise of, 282
Deamicis, cantatrice, ii. 66
Deburau, Jean-Baptiste, i. 53; contrasted with Père Rousseau, 196; transforms character of Pierrot, 219; Théophile Gautier on, 220; Janin’s biography of, 221; his agreement with Bertrand, 222; plays in which performed, 223; his last appearance, 226; his death, 227; and George Sand, 228; his character, 229; his son, 230
Deburau the younger succeeds his father, i. 229
Delaulne, Florentin, his _Arlequiniana_, i. 69
Della Lira. _See_ Croce
_Départ des Comédiens, Le_, quoted, ii. 60
Deshayes, at the Comédie-Italienne, i. 175; Collé’s criticism of, 178
Doctor, the (Il Dottore), i. 26; of Bolognese origin, 28; in Scala’s scenarii, 29, 48; Materazzi, 49; in _L’Empereur dans la Lune_, 80; and ii. 35; and Pedrolino, 201; in _Pantalone Spezier_, ii. 21; described, 31; Riccoboni on, 32; his mask, 33; players of, 37; in dialogue with Isabelle, 144; and Fenocchio, 171; and Scaramouche, 218
Donat, Jean, plays zanies, i. 44
Domenico. _See_ Giuseppe-Domenico Biancolelli
_Double Inconstance, La_, i. 94
Dumalgé, Mlle, Ballerina, ii. 86
E
Ely plays Polichinelle, i. 125
_Empereur dans la Lune, L’_, i. 79; ii. 35
_Épreuves, Les_, sketched, i. 223
Esopus, Roman mime, i. 18
Ethologues, i. 10
Etoile quoted, i. 35 _et seq._
Etruscans, i. 11
F
Fabioni plays Pulcinella, i. 119
Facanappa described, ii. 49
Favart, marries Mlle Chantilly, ii. 62; on La Piccinelli, 67; on La Dumalgé, 86; on Camille, 158 _et seq._
Favart, Madame (Mlle Chantilly), her début, ii. 62; Maréchal de Saxe in love with, 63; her talent, 64; her death, 65; her dancing, 80
Fedeli Troupe, i. 39
Fenocchio, variant of Brighella, ii. 168; and Harlequin, 169
Fescennia, the verses of, ii. 231; actors of, 232
_Festin de Pierre, Le_, i. 205
Ficcheto described, ii. 255
_Finta Pazza, La_, title of, i. 42; performed in Paris, 57
Fiorello, Silvio, introduced Pulcinella, i. 112
Fiorilli, Agostino, plays Tartaglia, ii. 261; Gozzi’s praise of, 281, 290
Fiorina, La, quoted, ii. 121
Fiorinetta in _La Vaccaria_, ii. 121
Fiurelli, Tiberio, Scaramouche, i. 41, 43, 44; in interlude, ii. 58; plays Scaramouche, 208; his marriage, 210; his fame, 211; and Louis XIV., 212; his second marriage, 214; in scenario from Gherardi, 215
Flautino, played by Giovanni Gherardi, ii. 184
Flavio, Flaminio Scala, i. 29; in _La Vaccaria_, 235; and ii. 125; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, i. 242
_Fontaine de Sapience, La_, quoted, ii. 59
Fornaris, Fabrizio di, in Confidenti Troupe, i. 37; plays Cocodrillo, 150
_Fourberies de Scapin, Les_, i. 188
Fournier, Édouard, on Pierrot, i. 204 _et seq._
Fracassano, Michelangelo da, plays Pulcinella, i. 44, 113
Fracasse, Le Capitaine, i. 148
Franca-Trippa, type created, i. 37; a zanni, ii. 236
Franceschina, played by Silvia Roncagli, i. 37, 162; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242; wife of Burattino, ii. 253
Fritellino, in Scala’s scenarii, i. 29; described, ii. 235; played by Cecchini, 236
Funambules, Théâtre des, i. 125; Deburau at, 218; Deburau’s agreement, 222
Funambuli, i. 10; in Rome, 15
G
Gabrielli, Giulia, i. 41; cantatrice, ii. 57
Galimafré, ii. 118
Ganassa, Juan, establishes Italian comedy in Paris, i. 34; his company, 192
Garrick, David, on Bertinazzi’s talent, i. 191
Garzon, Thomas, on Isabella Andreini, ii. 135
Gaultier-Garguille, created, i. 41; on boastfulness, 146; etymology of, ii. 50; described, 51
Gautier, Théophile, on pantomime, i. 54; on Deburau, 220
Gavarini Girolamo, plays Captain Rinoceronte, i. 152
Gelosi Troupe, i. 35; at Hôtel de Bourbon, 36; its motto, 37; players in, 238
Genest martyred, i. 19, 255
Gennari, his eulogium of Beolco, i. 280 _f.n._
_Gentilhomme Gascon, Le_, played before Henry IV., i. 198
Geoffrin, Julien, plays Jodelet, ii. 204
Gherardi, Evaristo, on improvisation, i. 39; plays Harlequin, 45; his collection of scenarii, 52; his account of his first appearance, 76; his death, 78; scene by, ii. 26; in _Le Départ des Comédiens_, 60; monologue of Isabella, 142; on Fiurelli, 211
Gherardi, Giovanni, plays Flautino, i. 44; father of Evaristo G., 76; career of, ii. 184
Gianduja, originated in Turin, i. 28; identical with Girolamo, ii. 108; described, 110; in Turin, 112
Gian Farina, i. 193
Giangurgolo, of Calabrese origin, i. 28; one of the captains, 155 _et seq._
Giaratone Giuseppe, plays Pierrot, i. 44, 207; biographical note of, 211
Giglio. _See_ Gilles
Gilles, variant of Pierrot, i. 213; played by Carpentier, 213
Girolamo, identical with Gianduja, ii. 108; in Milan, 109
Goldoni, Carlo, hostile to Commedia dell’ Arte, i. 99; writes play for Darbés, ii. 30; his methods, 290; his quarrel with Gozzi, 292
Golinetti plays Harlequin, i. 95
Gozzi, Carlo, his relations with Sacchi, i. 100; and the Commedia dell’ Arte, ii. 281; his scenarii, 283; and Signora Ricci, 284; on improvisation, 284 _et seq._; his quarrel with Goldoni, 292
Gradelino played by Constantino Constantini, i. 44; ii. 184
Grattelard, described, ii. 200; in _The Three Hunchbacks_, 201; the rival of Tabarin, 242
Grimaldi, Giuseppe, Clown, i. 233
Grimaldi, Joe, Clown, i. 233
Grimm, quoted, i. 47; on dismissal of Italian players, 53; on Bigottini’s Harlequin, 95; on Colalto, ii. 29; on Mlle Chantilly, 64, 65; on La Colomba, 69; on Mme Ruette, 70; on Jeannot, 115
Gringalet, ii. 118
Gros Guillaume, created, i. 41; played by Guérin, 198; costume of, 199
Guaiassa, La, the Neapolitan soubrette, i. 179
Guapo, Il, i. 133 _et seq._
Guérin, Robert, plays Gros Guillaume, i. 198
Guéru, Hugues, creates Gaultier Garguille, ii. 50
Guillot-Gorju, created, i. 41; described, ii. 52
H
Halle, Adam de la, i. 121
Hamoche plays Pierrot, i. 206, 212
Hanswurst, the German Polichinelle, i. 115; Magnin on, 127; played by Prehauser, 128
Harlay, Achille de, i. 62
HARLEQUIN, descended from phallophores, i. 11, 27; Bergamese origin of, 28, 41; played by Domenico, 44; by Gherardi, 45, 76; by Thomassin, 49, 84; by Carlo Bertinazzi, 49; described, 54; chapter on, 57 _et seq._; possible ancestor of, 59; costume of, 60; etymology of name, 62; character transformed by Domenico, 65; in _L’Empereur dans la Lune_, 79; in plays by Marivaux, 85; played by Antonio Constantini, 89; by Bertinazzi, 90; by Bigottini, 95; by Golinetti, 95; in marionettes, 95; actors who played, 96; Trivelino, 96; in _Artémire_, 97; Truffaldino, 98; in _Harlequin Roi Par Hasard_, 153; and Spezzafer, 154; in _Arlequino Proteo_, 164; and Columbine, 171; and Violette, 174; and Pedrolino, 201, 202; in _Les Épreuves_, 224; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242; in _Colombine Avocat_, 260; in _Cassandre aux Indes_, 275; Pantaloon’s servant, ii. 19; in _Pantalone Spezier_, 21; in _Le Départ des Comédiens_, 60; in _Arlequin Poli par l’Amour_, 151; and Fenocchio, 169; and Mezzetin, 189; and Scaramouche, 216; in _L’Avocat Pour et Contre_, 221; in _Le Collier de Perles_, 260 _f.n._
Haudouin, Bertrand, plays Guillot-Gorju, ii. 52
Henri III. summons Gelosi Troupe to France, i. 35
Henri IV., anecdote of, i. 198
Herodotus on marionettes, i. 20
Histrion, etymology of, i. 17
_Homme à Bonnes Fortunes, L’_, scene from, i. 169
I
_Illusion Comique, L’_, i. 145
_Inganno Fortunato, L’_, i. 84; announcement of, ii. 61; by Brigida Bianchi, 140
Interludes, origin and development of, ii. 54; filled by Fiurelli, 58
ISABELLE, played by Isabella Andreini, i. 37, 162; in _L’Empereur dans la Lune_, 83; and Columbine, 165; in _Le Banqueroutier_, 167; in _L’Homme à Bonnes Fortunes_, 169; and Pedrolino, 202; in _Les Épreuves_, 223; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242; in _Cassandre aux Indes_, 275; in scene from Gherardi, ii. 27; chapter on, 121; Isabella Andreini, 135; some leading ladies, 138; played by Brigida Bianchi, 139; by Françoise Biancolelli, 141; monologue of, 142; in dialogue with the Doctor, 144; with Columbine, 147; Silvia, 150; Flaminia, 156; Lucile, 157; some other variants, 159; and Mezzetin, 188
Istomachus, a charlatan, i. 18
_Italien Marié à Paris, L’_, success of, i. 268
J
Janin, Jules, his biography of Deburau quoted, i. 220
Jan-Klaassen, the Dutch Polichinelle, i. 127
Jeanne of Naples, her history dramatised, i. 24
Jeannot, described, ii. 114; played by Volange, 116
Jocrisse, ii. 118
Jodelet, created, i. 41; described, ii. 209
K
Karagheus, the Eastern Polichinelle, i. 115
L
Lambert, Mlle, cantatrice, ii. 72
Laurent plays Leandro, i. 227
Leandro, played by C. V. Romagnesi, i. 45, 264; in _Les Épreuves_, 223; character transformed, 273; in _Cassandre aux Indes_, 275; played by Laurent, 277; and Cassandro, ii. 44
Legrand, Henri, plays Turlupin, ii. 198
Legrand, Paul, plays Pierrot, i. 230
Legrand, Louis, plays Turlupin, ii. 200
LELIO, played by Luigi Riccoboni, i. 49, 264; in _L’Inganno Fortunato_, 84; in _Le Prince Travesti_, 85; chapter on, 235; Flavio, 235; played by G. B. Andreini, 254; Orazio, 257; Cinthio, 259; Ottavio, 262; played by L. Riccoboni, 264; played by Cotta, 266; in _L’Italien Marié à Paris_, 267; played by G. A. Romagnesi, 268; played by F. Riccoboni, 271; played by A. L. Baletti, 272; Leandro, 273
Lisle, Mlle de, cantatrice, ii. 72
Livius Andronicus, i. 13
Locatelli, Domenico, plays Trivelino, i. 43, 44, 66, 97; play by, 98
Locatelli, Gabriella, i. 41; ii. 57
Lolli, Angelo Agostino Constantino, plays the Doctor, i. 44; marries Patricia Adami, 163; his Doctor, ii. 37
Lombardi, Bernardino, i. 35; plays Doctor, ii. 37
Loret, “The Historic Muse of,” quoted, i. 43
Louis XIII. summons Italian troupe to France, i. 41
Louis XIV., responsible for French opera, ii. 58; dances in ballets, 82
Lucian, quoted, i. 14; on masks, 17; on dancing, ii. 76
Lysiodes, i. 10
M
Macchiavelli, Niccolo, as dramatic author, i. 280; friend of La Barbera, ii. 56
Maccus, i. 26, 107; character of, 108
_Maddalena Lasciva e Penitente, La_, characters in, ii. 138
Magnin, Charles, on pantomime in Rome, i. 13, 14; on marionettes in Rome, 19; on attitude of Church towards histrions, 22; on itinerant troupes, 36, 38; on plebeian drama, 53; on Pulcinella, 120; on Polichinelle, 121, 126; on Punch, 127; on ancient singers, ii. 53; on dancing, 76; on funeral of Isabella Andreini, 136
Maillard, Mlle, Cantatrice, ii. 72
Malloni, Maria, Celia, i. 35; her talent, ii. 134
_Mandragora, La_, i. 280; ii. 81
Manducus, i. 19
Manente, Gian, i. 25; ii. 256
Marco-Pepe, of Roman origin, i. 28; affinity with Polichinelle, 128; costume of, 131; rôle of, described, 132
Marinette, i. 44
Marionettes, in antiquity, i. 19; etymology of, 20; varieties of, 21; gypsies and, 25
Marivaux writes plays for Thomassin, i. 85
Marmontel on Harlequin, i. 59, 64
Mary of Médicis summons Fedeli Troupe to Paris, i. 39
Masks, in Rome, i. 15; worn by Greek mimes, 17; worn by types of the Italian comedy, 27; some carnival masks, ii. 275 _et seq._
Matamore. _See_ Matamoros
Matamoros, Captain, played by Fiorello, i. 112; his Spanish origin, 143; Scarron’s play on, 147; played by Bosses, 152
Matterazzi plays Doctor, i. 49; ii. 27
Mazarin, Cardinal, summons Italian comedians to Paris, i. 41, 51; summons Domenico, 66
Mazurier plays Polichinelle, i. 124
Meneghino, of Milanese origin, i. 28; described, ii. 101; descended from Menego, 102; akin to Stenterello, 106
Menego, dialogue of, ii. 102
Meo-Patacca, of Roman origin, i. 28; variant of Polichinelle, 128; peculiarity of speech of, 129; in Theatre of Palla Corda, 130; costume of, 131
Mercey, Frédéric, on Polichinelle, i. 115; on Meo-Patacca, 129; on the Captain, 143; on Pantaloon, ii. 18; on the Italian masks, 24; on the Doctor, 31; on Stenterello, 89, 94; on Meneghino, 106
Metrobius, i. 18
Mézières, Marie Laboras de, her career, i. 156
Mezzetino, in Scala’s scenarii, i. 29, 41; played by A. Constantini, 44; described, ii. 185; and Isabelle, 188; and Harlequin, 189; and Cinthio, 190; and Pasquariello, 223
Mimes, in Rome, i. 14; their masks, 15; their status, 17
Molière, creates Pierrot, i. 205; his Scapin, ii. 181; plays with mask, 186; his admiration of Fiurelli, 214; inspired by the Italians, 215
Mondor, the charlatan, i. 41; plays Captain Rodomonte, 150; dialogue of, 151; the associate of Tabarin, ii. 238 _et seq._
Montaigne, on Italian comedy, i. 26; on comedians, 193
Musset, Paul de, on the four Venetian masks, ii. 17; on Il Biscegliese, 38, 40; on Tartaglia, 262
Mystery plays, i. 24
N
NARCISINO, the modern planipes, i. 28; of Bolognese origin, 28; character, ii. 195; monologue of, 196
Natocelli plays Pagliaccio, i. 195
Nobili, Orazio, i. 35
_Noces de Pierrot, Les_, i. 226
Nodier, Charles, on Polichinelle, i. 125
Nonnus of Panopolis on pantomime, i. 14
Notary, the, described, ii. 265
O
Opera Buffa, created, ii. 54; first performed, 55
Opéra-Comique, i. 47; amalgamated with the Comédie-Italienne, 52; composers at the, ii. 71
Orazio, in _The Wiles of Isabella_, i. 242; played by Marco Romagnesi, 258; character and costume, 258
Orléans, Duc d’ (The Regent), summons Italian players to Paris, i. 84
_Orpheus_ performed in Paris, i. 51
Ottavio played by G. B. Constantini, i. 265
P
PAGLIACCIO, first appearance of, i. 192; costume of, 193; actors playing, 195
Palais Royal, Italian players at, i. 44, 84
Paillasse, i. 195; played by Père Rousseau, 196
Palla-Corda, Theatre of, Meo-Patacca in, i. 130
Palladio, theatre by, at Vicenza, i. 33
Pangrazio il Biscegliese. _See_ Il Biscegliese
Pantalone. _See_ Pantaloon
_Pantalone Spezier_, ii. 21
PANTALOON, origin of, i. 27; Venetian, 28; in Scala’s scenarii, 29, 41; played by Alborghetti, 49; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242; chapter on, ii. 9; descended from Pappus, 10; origin of his name, 17; his character, 18; and Harlequin, 19; in _Pantalone Spezier_, 21; Don Pantaleone, 23; of every social condition, 24; change in his costume, 25; variants of name, 26; Brocantin, 26; played by Sticotti, 28; by Colalto, 29; by Darbés, 30; the Doctor, 31; Il Biscegliese, 38; Cassandro, 42; Cassandrino, 46; Facanappa, 49; the Baron, Gaultier-Garguille, 50; Guillot-Gorju, 52
Pantomime in Rome, i. 13, 14
Pappus, i. 27, 107; ancient Pantaloon, ii. 10
Parasolz, his drama on Jeanne of Naples, i. 24
Pasquariello, i. 44; scene with Harlequin, 73; in league with Columbine, 172; and Scaramouche, ii. 212
Pasquino described, ii. 228
Passion, la, Confraternity of, close the Italian theatres in Paris, i. 35; drive out the Confidenti, 38
Pedrolino, character of, i. 200; lackey of Pantaloon, 201; his appetite, 202; his mischievousness, 203; derived from the Italian peasant, 208; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242
Peppe-Nappa, of Sicilian origin, i. 28; variant of Pierrot, 216
Personæ, masks so called, i. 12
Phallophores, i. 10; Sycionian, 59; in Rome, 60
Piccinelli, La, her history, ii. 67
Pierò, i. 200. _See_ Pierrot
Pierrette, i. 173
PIERROT, played by Giaratone, i. 44, 207; described, 54; in _L’Homme à Bonnes Fortunes_, 170; chapter on, 183; Pagliaccio, 192; Gros-Guillaume, 198; Pedrolino, 200; derived from Pedrolino, 204; created by Molière, 205; played by Hamoche, 206; derived from French peasant, 208; in dialogue with Cassandre, 209; and Cinthio, 210; his character, 211; players of, 212; Gilles, 213; Peppe Nappa, 216; character transformed by Deburau, 219; in _Les Épreuves_, 223; played by Legrand, 230; the English Clown, 231; in _L’Empereur dans la Lune_, ii. 35; and Cassandro, 43; in dialogue with Isabelle, 44; in _L’Avocat Pour et Contre_, 222
Pindar quoted, ii. 76
Planipes, i. 11, 60
Plautus, _The Braggart Captain_ quoted, i. 138; _Mostellaria_ quoted, 159; _Pœnulus_ set to music, ii. 55
Pliny on actresses, ii. 77
POLICHINELLE. _See_ Pulcinella Chapter on, i. 103; his character, 106; Riccoboni on origin of, 110; Sand on origin of, 111; Riccoboni on, 114; variations of his name, 115; Polliciniella, 118; Magnin on, 121; his song, 122; plays written round, 123; competes with guillotine, 123; Arnault on, 124; Mazurier’s performance, 124; Ély’s performance, 125; Nodier on, 125; Magnin on, 125; Punch, 126; Hanswurst, 127; Meo-Patacca, 128; Marco-Pepe, 132; Il Guapo and Il Sitonno, 133; Birrichino, 134
Polliciniella. _See_ Polichinelle
Polidoro in comedy by Beolco, i. 276
Ponti, Diana, ii. 137
Porbus quoted, i. 34
Prehauser plays Hanswurst, i. 128; ii. 286
_Prince Travesti, Le_, i. 85
Pulcinella, lineal descendant of Maccus, i. 26; Neapolitan, 28; played by Fracassano, 45; origin of, 107; etymology of, 109; introduced by Fiorello, 112. _See_ Polichinelle
Pulcinello, played by Coleson, i. 114. _See_ Polichinelle
Pulliciniello. _See_ Polichinelle
Punch, the English Polichinelle, i. 115, 126; Magnin on, 127
Pylades, mime of the first century, i. 19
Q
Quinault befriends G. A. Romagnesi, i. 269
Quintus Roscius, earnings of, i. 18
R
Rabelais, quoted, i. 20; his _Sciomachie_ quoted, ii. 133; Turlupin and, 198; his _Sciomachie_, 257; on Chicanoux, 268
Ranieri, Bartolomeo, plays Aurelio, i. 44; his career, 261
Rauzzini, Giacopo, plays Scaramouche, i. 49; ii. 226
Réaux, Tallemant des, on Gros Guillaume, i. 198
_Re Cervo, Il_, sketched, ii. 263
Reynie, La, interdicts foreign players in Paris, i. 45
Rhinthonus, i. 12
_Rhodiana, La_, i. 99
Ricci, La, Gozzi’s mistress, i. 100; ii. 284
Riccoboni, Antonio, disregards royal summons to Paris, ii. 26
Riccoboni, Francesco, plays Lelio, i. 49, 271; his career, 272
Riccoboni, Luigi, on F. Scala, i. 29; on improvisation, 31; director of the Regent’s Company, 49; on zanni, 60; on Harlequin, 63; on image of Maccus, 110; on Polichinelle, 114; on the Captain, 147; on G. B. Andreini, 256; plays Lelio, 264; his career, 265; his History of the Italian Theatre, 266; his mania for tragedy, 267; his History criticised, 268; on Ruzzante, 283; on Pantaloon, ii. 24; on the Doctor, 32
Richelieu, Cardinal de, summons Italian players to Paris, i. 51
Rinoceronte, Captain, described, i. 152
Rodomonte, Captain, described, i. 148; played by Mondor, 150; dialogue of, 151
Rogantino described, i. 157
Romagnesi, Carlo Virginio, plays Leandro, i. 45, 264
Romagnesi, Giovanni-Antonio, plays Lelio, i. 49; early adventures of, 268; his début at Strasburg, 270; his success in Paris, 271
Romagnesi, Marco, plays Orazio, i. 44, 257
Romagnesi, Marco Antonio, plays Cinthio, i. 44, 259; his career, 268; plays the Doctor, ii. 37
Roncagli, Silvia, in Scala’s company, i. 37; plays Franceschina, 162
Roquelaure, Maréchal de, anecdote of, i. 198
Rosa, Salvator, i. 28; on Pagliaccio, 194; plays Coviello, ii. 233
_Rosaura, La_, performed in Paris, i. 51; ii. 58
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, and the sisters Veronese, i. 176
Rousseau, Père, plays Paillasse, i. 196; dialogue of, 197
Ruette, Madame, her talent, ii. 71
Ruine di Pompeia, Le, sketched, i. 118
Rusca, Margarita, plays Violette, i. 49, 174
RUZZANTE, chapter on, i. 279. _See_ Angelo Beolco
S
Sacchi, plays Truffaldino, i. 99; his ruin, 100; Gozzi’s praise of, ii. 281
St Victor, Paul de, on Tabarin, ii. 239, 241, 245
San Carlino, Theatre of, i. 115
Sand, George, and Deburau, i. 228
Sanniones, i. 60
San Samuele, Theatre of, i. 99; Anna Veronese at, 176
Sant’ Angelo, Theatre of, i. 100
Saturæ, i. 12
Saxe, Maréchal de, opera in his camp, ii. 62; in love with Mme Favart, 63
Sbirro, Il, described, ii. 272
Scala, Flaminio, his company, i. 29; heads the Gelosi, 35; actors engaged by, 37; retires, 38; Pedrolino in his scenarii, 200; plays lovers, 238; appearances of, in France, 239; his collection of scenarii, 239; his _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242; engages Isabella Andreini, ii. 135
SCAPINO, of Milanese origin, i. 28; played by Bissoni, 49; chapter on, ii. 161; Brighella, 161; Fenocchio, 168; Beltrame, 172; his address to travellers, 179; his character, 180; played by Bissoni, 182; played by Camerani, 183; Flautino and Gradelino, 184; Mezzetino, 185; Narcisino, 195; Turlupin, 198; Grattelard, 200; Jodelet and other variants of, 204
SCARAMOUCHE, i. 26; of Neapolitan origin, 28; played by Rauzzini, 49; and ii. 226; chapter on, ii. 207; and Pulcinella, 209; in scenes from Gherardi’s collection, 215 _et seq._; Pasquariello, 219; played by Cavé, 227; Pasquino, 228; Crispin, 229
Scardeon, Bernardino, on Beolco, i. 279, 281, 282
Scarron quoted, i. 147
Schœnobates, i. 10, 109
Scudéry, i. 145
_Serva Padrona, La_, ii. 54; translated, 66
Shakespeare, the Clowns of, i. 233
Simodes, i. 19
Sitonno, II, rôle of, i. 133; source of, in Ruzzante, 134
Smargiasso, described, i. 156
Soubrettes, i. 161; Columbine, 163; names of, 174; Coraline, 175
Spanish Comedians in Paris, i. 43
Spavento, Captain, i. 148; played by F. Andreini, 149; and Pedrolino, 201; in _The Wiles of Isabella_, 242
Spezzafer, Captain, his dress, i. 152; played by G. Bianchi, 153; dialogue of, 154
Spezza-Monti, Captain, described, i. 148
Spinetta, i. 45
STENTERELLO, of Florentine origin, i. 28; comparable with English Clown, 231; chapter on, ii. 89; appearance of, 90; etymology of, 92; costume of, 92; character of, 93; an episode of, 94; the Bolognese, 98; monologue of, 99; Meneghino, 101; Gianduja and Girolamo, 108; Zacometo, 113; Jeannot, 114; Jocrisse and other variants of, 118
Sticotti, Antonio, plays Pierrot, i. 212
Sticotti, Fabio, plays Pantaloon, ii. 29
Strozzi, Giulio, author, i. 42
Suppositi, I, produced, i. 280
_Surprise de l’Amour, La_, i. 85
Susarion, i. 9
Sycionian phallophores, i. 59
T
Tabarin, i. 41; and Rodomonte, 151; a charlatan, ii. 238; St Victor on, 239; the story of his death, 240; rivals of, 242; complete works of, 243; quoted, 246; prophetic almanac of, 251; costume of, 253
Tabarini, his troupe in Vienna, i. 66; ii. 238
Tabarino described, ii. 237
Tabernariæ, i. 12
_Taking of Delhi, The_, Gianduja in, ii. 112
Tarentum famous for its actors, i. 18
TARTAGLIA, i. 27; of Neapolitan origin, 28; in Venice, ii. 17; chapter on, 259; in _Le Collier de Perles_, 260 _f.n._; costume of, 261; frequent imprisonments of player of, 262; in _Il Re Cervo_, 263; the Notary, 265; Il Sbirro, 272; the Apothecary, 273
Terence on funambuli, i. 15
Terpander introduces the lyre, ii. 53
_Thémire Délivrée_ criticised by Favart, ii. 158
Thespis, i. 9; creates the corypheus, ii. 53
Thomas Aquinas quoted, i. 23
Thomassin. _See_ Antonio Vicentini
_Three Hunchbacks, The_, ii. 201 _et seq._; Tartaglia in, 259
Titus Livy quoted, i. 11, 13
Togatæ, i. 12
Toneelgek, the Dutch Polichinelle, i. 115
Tortoretti, Giuseppe, plays Pasquariello, i. 44; touring, 98; his career, ii. 220
_Triumph of Bacchus, The_, Louis XIV. plays in, ii. 82
Trivelino, i. 41; a variant of Harlequin, 96; in _Artémire_, 97
Truffaldino, a variant of Harlequin, i. 98; played by Sacchi, 99; quotation from rôle of, 101; in Venice, ii. 17
Tude, Hippolyte de la, on her début, i. 175
Turgis, M. de, his marriage with Françoise Biancolelli, ii. 147 _et seq._
Turi, Nicolò, plays Pantaloon, i. 43
Turi, Virginio, plays lovers, i. 44, 259
Turlupin, played by H. Legrand, ii. 198
Tusculum, theatre at, i. 11
U
Uniti Troupe, i. 35, 39
V
_Vaccaria, La_, i. 99; quotation from, 235; outlined, ii. 121; contrasted with _Asinaria_, 128
Valerini, Adriano, plays Aurelio, i. 35; forms the Uniti Troupe, 39; plays lovers, 238; and Lidia di Bagnacavallo, ii. 134; and Charles Borromeo, 137
Vappo, Il, one of the captains, i. 156
Varchi, Benedetto, on Beolco, i. 212
_Verità, La_, scenario of, ii. 81
Veronese, Anna, Coraline, i. 50; a soubrette, 175; Rousseau and, 176; Collé’s criticism of, 177; great vogue of, 178; her dancing, ii. 80
Veronese, Carlo, plays Pantaloon, i. 176; and Rousseau, 176; overshadowed by his daughters, ii. 29
Veronese, Giacometta-Antonia, Camille, i. 50; and Rousseau, 176; Collé’s criticism of, 177; in Sacchi’s company, 178; her dancing, ii. 80; her career, 157
Vicentini, Antonio (Thomassin), plays Harlequin, i. 49; in _L’Inganno Fortunato_, 84; plays for, by Marivaux, 85; his agility, 88; his death, 89; Collé’s criticism of, 94; married to Margarita Rusca, 174
Vicentini, Gioachino, plays Harlequin, i. 89
Vicenza, theatre at, i. 33
Vieux Cordelier quoted, i. 123
Violette, Margarita Rusca, i. 49; a variant of Columbine, 174
Volange, plays Jeannot, ii. 116; his failure, 117
Voltaire, on mystery plays, i. 24; on La Camargo, ii. 84
W
_Wiles of Isabella, The_, Scala’s scenario of, i. 242
X
Xenophon quoted, ii. 175
Z
ZACOMETO, of Venetian origin, i. 28; described, ii. 113
Zanarini, La, a cantatrice, ii. 70
Zanobio, a variant of Pantaloon, ii. 50
Zanoni, Atanasio, plays Brighella, ii. 167; Gozzi’s praise of, 281
Zanotti, Andrea, plays Valerio and Ottavio, i. 44, 259
Zeccha, Nicolò, plays Bertoldino, i. 192
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