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

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