_Teodora Ricci makes her debut at Venice without marked success.--My
reasons for feeling engaged in honour to support her_.
My histrionic phalanx returned to Venice, and took possession for the
first time of the theatre at S. Salvatore, deprived of one of their best
actors, Derbes. The managers of the company wished to keep the public in
suspense about the new actress for the first few nights. This is the
common policy of such people. They reason thus: "We are all of us
novelties at the beginning of the season. Let us keep the new actor in
reserve to stimulate the public when our own attractions fall off. Come
what may, we are sure to have our purses full that night at least."
Desire of gain is their only motive principle.
At last the time came for poor Ricci to be exhibited. The flaming
announcement of _new actress_, _new play_, _La Innamorata da Vero_, drew
a full house. My piece was well received; but the Ricci was voted a
barely tolerable artiste. This pleased the other actresses of the troupe
and amused me, who had formed a very decided opinion of her real
ability. She next appeared as the Queen of England in the old play of
the _Conte d'Essex_. Poorly dressed, she raised no applause, although
she acted well; and her capital sentence seemed to be irrevocable.
About this time Sacchi asked me to translate a French play called
_Fajel_,[40] in which he proposed to give the part of Gabrielle to the
debutante Ricci. I remember that I scribbled off this version in the
small rooms of the theatre while my friends were acting; an earthen
pipkin with some ink in it and a dirty stump of a pen, supplied by the
green-room man, helped me through it in a few evenings.
Before it appeared I chose to have my translation published, together
with an essay inveighing against the habit of importing plays from
France. The stir caused by this essay, together with other
circumstances, drew a large house on the first night of _Fajel_. Ricci
sustained the part of Gabrielle admirably; but it so happened that
Signora Manzoni had recently been acting a nearly identical role at the
theatre of S. Angelo, and her partisans determined to crush the
debutante, whom they considered a presumptuous rival. This third failure
made her ruin palpable to every eye.
Fervid and impetuous by nature, proud as Lucifer, and intensely
ambitious, she chafed and wept, took to her bed, and raged there like a
lioness, cursing the hour when she had joined Sacchi's troupe and set
her foot in Venice. As far as possible, she concealed the true cause of
her fury, and dwelt on family difficulties, her poverty, and a new
confinement in prospect. To my attempts at consolation, though
flattering and reasonable, she turned a deaf ear.
It was then that, having gained a perfect knowledge of her character, I
composed my _Principessa Filosofa_,[41] precisely with a view to her.
When I read it to the company, they broke forth into their usual
extravagant laudations. But just at this time they were plotting the
removal of the Ricci; and the actresses most interested in expelling her
from the troupe raised obstacles against the _Principessa_ being put
upon the stage. They buzzed about from ear to ear that my drama was
languid and tiresome. I had omitted the four masks, and had constructed
the piece with the sole object of bolstering up an actress already out
of credit and rejected by the public. The Ricci chafed with rage; while
I continued to laugh, knowing well that I should find the means of
bringing these passion-blinded creatures back to reason.
Just then it happened that the patrician of Venice, Francesco Gritti,
one of our best and liveliest pens, translated Piron's tragedy of
_Gustavus Vasa_ from the French.[42] At my request, he gave this play to
Sacchi, assigning the part of Adelaide to Teodora Ricci. New
difficulties and new intrigues arose among the jealous actresses. These
I put down with a high hand, the play in question being not my own, but
my distinguished friend's donation to the company. La Ricci learned her
part with diligence and ease. Her chief anxiety was about her costume;
for the managers refused to make her any advances on this score, and her
rivals, who took subordinate parts in the tragedy, were straining all
the resources of their lengthier purse to outshine her by the wardrobe.
I amused myself enormously at their ill-founded expectations. When the
night arrived, the play was very decently got up, and the Ricci entered
on the scene far better dressed than any of her comrades. _Gustavus
Vasa_ had a decided success; and the Ricci, who played Adelaide well,
but certainly not better than the three parts which had well-nigh ruined
her, was encouraged by a fair amount of applause. I could see how much
good this little gleam of sunshine did her.
Meanwhile days flew by without anything being said about my _Principessa
Filosofa_. I thereupon determined to try what a little artifice could
do. I began by confiding to some of our actors that I could not resist
the wish to see this piece upon the stage; and that appreciating
Sacchi's reasons for not venturing to take the risk of it, I was
thinking of offering my _Principessa_ to the company at S. Angelo.
Signora Manzoni, I added, seemed to be admirably fitted for the leading
part. No sooner was it whispered that I intended to follow Derbes to the
rival camp, than marvellous alacrity began to be displayed. Sacchi,
always violent and excessive, insisted that the _Principessa Filosofa_
should be got up and ready for representation in the course of a few
days. In fact, this piece appeared upon the 8th of February 1772. The
Ricci, carefully coached by me, sustained the title-role with
astonishing spirit. She was welcomed with thunders of applause; and a
run of eighteen nights to overflowing houses established her reputation
as an artist of incomparable energy and spirit. This joint triumph of
author and actress made the latter necessary to Sacchi's company. Yet
some of her comrades persisted in regarding her with covered rancour.
They never acknowledged her talents, and ascribed her success to the
role I had composed for her.