_The several steps I took to meet the wishes of my blind and false
antagonist.--History of a long tedious day._
How I spent the rest of the day after this painful scene may be told
very briefly. I first sent a letter to the noble gentleman Signor
Vendramini, entreating him in courteous but urgent terms to sanction the
suspension of the comedy. A polite and distant answer expressing his
inability to do so was placed in my hands. Then I hurried to find
Sacchi. He was dining at the house of the patrician Giuseppe Lini at S.
Samuele. I sent for him into the ante-chamber, and explained my reasons
for having the performance stopped. "What can I do?" exclaimed the
_capocomico_. "Have you forgotten that the sublime tribunal has given
orders for the play, and that Ricci is going to be brought to the
theatre by one of its foot-soldiers? You are demanding the
impossible--the ruin of myself and all my company." "But did not you
yourself declare," said I, "that you would punctually fulfil my wishes
in this matter?" "To whom, and when, and where?" he answered in some
heat; "who has told these lies? I should like to be confronted with the
man. Do you imagine I am such a donkey as to make ridiculous assertions
of the kind? Nevertheless, if you can smooth away all obstacles, I am
willing to submit to your demand."
The noise we were making in the ante-chamber brought Signor Lini and his
guests out of the dining-room. They protested with one voice that it was
impossible to withdraw a comedy which was already the property of the
public and under the protection of the Government. Gratarol had stirred
up all the mischief by fitting the cap on his own head. It was too late
to think of the misfortunes he had brought by his own madness on
himself.
Furnished with Sacchi's conditional promise, I flew off at once to my
friend Maffei. I told him what I had already done, and with what poor
success. "Nevertheless," I added, "there is yet another stone which I do
not mean to leave unturned. I may find the noble lady Caterina Dolfin
Tron at home, if I go to her immediately. She certainly suggested and
contrived the travesty which turned Vitalba into a caricature of
Gratarol. She has availed herself of the latter's indiscretion and false
steps, the excitement of the public, and the dust stirred up about my
wretched drama, to wreak her vengeance for what crime against herself I
cannot say. Tell Signor Gratarol what I have attempted up to the present
moment, and come to meet me under the Procuratie Nuove at three hours
after sunset."
The January day in which I had to work was short; and I may
parenthetically observe, although the fact is trivial, that I did not
allow myself time to eat a mouthful of food.
It was already an hour and a half past sundown when I turned my steps to
the palace of that noble lady. I wished to have a witness of our
colloquy, and met with no one on the way more proper for the purpose
than Luigi Benedetti, the actor, and Sacchi's nephew. We climbed the
long staircase and asked if her ladyship were at home. "Yes," said the
servant, "she is receiving a company of ladies, senators, and men of
letters." I begged to be announced; and shortly afterwards Mme. Dolfin
Tron appeared, closing the doors of her reception-room behind her, from
whence there came the sound of animated conversation. She saluted me
cheerfully with her usual epithet of _Bear_, bade me take a chair beside
her, and motioned to the actor to be seated.[70]
I unfolded the object of my visit in a few sentences, explained how
urgently I desired the suppression of my comedy, and described the
ineffectual steps which I had taken for securing it. "Now I fling myself
upon your powerful assistance, in the earnest hope that you will help me
to suspend the performance of the _Droghe d'Amore_."
"What a request!" she cried: "what has inspired you to make it?" I
replied by describing my own bitter annoyance at figuring as the
libeller and satirist of private persons. I painted the distress of
Gratarol, and the sympathy which I felt for him. "The kindness of your
heart is worthy of all honour," she answered; "but if you knew the whole
facts, you would not take compassion on that man. He has not merely let
himself be bamboozled by an actress, fomented the scandal from which he
is now suffering, set himself up against the decrees of the tribunals,
calumniated people who deserve respect, pretended that the prima donna's
leg was broken, and floundered from stupidity to stupidity until the
Government itself is enraged against him. He has not merely committed
all these follies. He has done more, of which you are not yet aware."
"I am quite prepared to believe you," I replied; "but in a case like
his, any honest man might be excused for losing his head and acting with
imprudence. Do not let us think of him. I come to beg you to save me
from what I regard as an odious source of humiliation to myself. Signor
Gratarol persists in saying that I can and ought to stop the performance
of my play." The noble lady looked laughing in my face and said: "Any
blind man can see that you have no power over your comedy. You made a
gift of it to certain actors. It has been twice revised and licensed by
the censors of the State. It belongs to the public, and the public have
the right to profit by it. You will only get yourself into a scrape if
you insist on championing the cause of that presumptuous, conceited, and
unruly man. If I cannot persuade you, there are senators in that room"
(pointing to her drawing-room) "who will tell you plainly that you are
impotent--your comedy no longer yours, but the property of the public
and the magistrates of State." "All this I know quite well," I answered;
"and I have repeated it a hundred times. I cannot stir a finger. This is
the very reason why I come to you. I know that you can settle matters if
you like. Intelligent people will perhaps understand how helpless I am
in the whole matter. But the vulgar and the populace are sure to think
otherwise, and I shall be prejudiced in the opinion of my countrymen. It
is to your feeling heart that I make this last appeal, beseeching you to
liberate me from the purgatory I am in of hearing all these scandals
daily, and seeing the unfortunate Gratarol exposed to scorn in a base
and cruel pillory." At the end of this speech I bent down, and stooped
to the, for me, unwonted abasement of kissing a woman's hand five or six
times.
All my entreaties, and even this last act of submission, were of no
avail. Madame told me in conclusion that, for reasons which I did not
know, the official decree was irreversible. The Ricci would be conducted
by an officer of the Council of Ten to the theatre next evening. After
that, the comedy might cease to run; and my protege Gratarol ought to be
well contented with the result of the whole matter. She rose to rejoin
her company, and I took my departure with my witness, Benedetti.
This was not, however, the last act for me of that long trying day. I
met my best of friends, Maffei, and reported the ill success of my
efforts. He undertook to go at once to Gratarol, and tell him that the
performance on the 17th was inevitable. He must try to endure his
humiliation in silence. On the 18th, and from that night forward, my
comedy should never more be seen upon the stage.
Maffei returned, discouraged and annoyed, to inform me that Gratarol
still stood by his "cogent and irrefragable demonstrations." "Count
Gozzi," he had said, "can and ought to meet my wishes,"--the wishes of
his worship. I replied to my friend that I felt sure Gratarol was about
to play some awkward trick. We had both involved ourselves in a nasty
job, I by undertaking to use my influence in the man's behalf, and
Maffei by rendering himself the protector of a maniac whose churlish
character was ill adapted to his candid friendship. "Oh, bad, bad!"
murmured Maffei between his teeth, downcast and mortified to an extent
which moved my sympathy. "Do you perhaps know any person of authority
and good sense," I inquired, "who has influence over this lunatic?" "If
there is any one," he replied, "I think we shall discover this person
in Gratarol's uncle, Signor Francesco Contarini. This gentleman holds
the private affairs of the family, and Gratarol's own disordered
fortunes, in his hands. Gratarol can hardly refuse to pay attention to
what he says." "I wish I had the good fortune to know Signor Contarini,"
said I: "that is not my privilege; but if you will introduce me, we may
persuade him to open his nephew's eyes to the prudence of accepting the
inevitable."
On this suggestion, we repaired at once to Signor Contarini's dwelling
at S. Angelo. He received me with politeness, and asked me to explain my
errand. I laid the whole matter in its many details before him, and
begged him to induce his nephew to accept the only compromise which now
was possible. Maffei supported me, corroborated all that I related, and
added his own convictions and desires to the same effect.
Signor Contarini acknowledged the cogency of our reasoning, and frankly
admitted that I had no power to arrest the performance of my disastrous
play. He very courteously offered to go at once to his nephew, and to
back us up with his authority, although the hour was late, and it was
not his habit to leave the house at night. While preparing himself for
the journey, he turned and spoke as follows: "Gentlemen, I am sorry to
have to add one observation. We are dealing with a giddy-pated and most
obstinate man. I cannot rely on bringing him to reason. My nephew has
undoubted talent; but his head is filled with so many outlandish
notions, at variance with the social atmosphere and civil institutions
of his native country, that he has been forced, as it were, to incur
enmities and to lay himself open to mortifications."
My friend Maffei and I adjourned to a coffee-house in the Calle de'
Fabbri or alley of the smiths, called Berizzi, and awaited the result of
Signor Contarini's embassy.
When he returned, the report was very different from what I had
expected. His manner had changed from affability to an austere and
imperious haughtiness. The ultimatum, dictated or commanded by his
nephew, ran thus: "On the part of my nephew and myself, I have to tell
you that you can and ought to prevent the reappearance of your comedy
upon the stage."
I will spare my readers the reply which I found myself obliged to give.
It consisted of excuses for having exposed him to so much trouble, and
of reiterated assertions that I was powerless to move a finger in the
matter. Contarini left us, hard as marble, scarcely deigning to salute
me with an inclination of the head.
I almost regretted, at the close of this long weary day, that I had
promised to suspend my comedy after its official performance on the
17th. Yet I had Sacchi's word, solemnly passed on oath, to the effect
that he would find some means for putting an end to further annoyances.
How he kept it will be seen in the ensuing chapters.