POPULAR RELIGIOUS POETRY.
The Thirteenth Century--Outburst of Flagellant Fanaticism--The
_Battuti_, _Bianchi_, _Disciplinati_--Acquire the name of
_Laudesi_--Jacopone da Todi--His Life--His Hymns--The
_Corrotto_--Franciscan Poetry--Tresatti's Collection--Grades
of Spiritual Ecstasy--Lauds of the
Confraternities--Benivieni--Feo Belcari and the Florentine
Hymn-writers--Relation to Secular Dance-songs--Origins of the
Theater--Italy had hardly any true Miracle Plays--Umbrian
_Divozioni_--The Laud becomes Dramatic--Passion
Plays--Medieval Properties--The Stage in Church or in the
Oratory--The _Sacra Rappresentazione_--A Florentine
Species--Fraternities for Boys--Names of the _Festa_--Theory
of its Origin--Shows in Medieval Italy--Pageants of S. John's
Day at Florence--Their Machinery--Florentine
_Ingegnieri_--Forty-three Plays in D'Ancona's
Collection--Their Authors--The Prodigal Son--Elements of
Farce--Interludes and Music--Three Classes of _Sacre
Rappresentazioni_--Biblical Subjects--Legends of
Saints--Popular _Novelle_--Conversion of the
Magdalen--Analysis of Plays.
The history of popular religious poetry takes us back to the first age
of Italian literature and to the discords of the thirteenth century. All
Italy had been torn asunder by the internecine struggle of Frederick II.
with Innocent III. and Gregory IX. The people saw the two chiefs of
Christendom at open warfare, exchanging anathemas, and doing each what
in him lay to render peace and amity impossible. Milan resounded to the
shrieks of _paterini_, burned upon the public square by order of an
intolerant pontiff. Padua echoed with the groans of Ezzelino's victims,
doomed to death by hundreds and by thousands in his dungeons, or cast
forth maimed and mutilated to perish in the fields. The southern
provinces swarmed with Saracens, whom an infidel Emperor had summoned to
his aid against a fanatical Pope. It seemed as though the age, which had
witnessed the assertion of Italian independence and the growth of the
free cities, was about to end in a chaos of bloodshed, fire and frantic
cruelty. The climax of misery and fury was reached in the Crusade
launched by Alexander IV. against the tyrants of the Trevisan Marches.
When Ezzelino died like a dog in 1259, the maddened populace believed
that his demon had now been loosed from chains of flesh, and sent forth
to the elements to work its will in freedom. The prince of darkness was
abroad and menacing. Though the monster had perished, the myth of evil
that survived him had power to fascinate, and was intolerable.
The conscience of the people, crazed by the sight of such iniquity and
suffering, bereft of spiritual guidance, abandoned to bad government,
made itself suddenly felt in an indescribable movement of religious
terror. "In the year 1260," wrote the Chronicler of Padua,[358] "when
Italy was defiled by many horrible crimes, a sudden and new perturbation
seized at first upon the folk of Perugia, next upon the Romans, and
lastly on the population of all Italy, who, stung by the fear of God,
went forth processionally, gentle and base-born, old and young,
together, through the city streets and squares, naked save for a
waist-band round their loins, holding a whip of leather in their hands,
with tears and groans, scourging their shoulders till the blood flowed
down. Not by day alone, but through the night in the intense cold of
winter, with lighted torches they roamed by hundreds, by thousands, by
tens of thousands, through the churches, and flung themselves down
before the altars, led by priests with crosses and banners. The same
happened in all villages and hamlets, so that the fields and mountains
resounded with the cries of sinners calling upon God. All instruments of
music and songs of love were hushed; only the dismal wail of penitents
was heard in town and country."
It will be noticed that this fanaticism of the Flagellants began among
the Umbrian highlands, the home of S. Francis and the center of
pietistic art, where the passions of the people have ever been more
quickly stirred by pathos than elsewhere in Italy. The _Battuti_, as
they were called, formed no mere sect. Populations of whole cities,
goaded by an irresistible impulse, which had something of the Dionysiac
madness in it, went forth as though a migration of the race had been
initiated. Blind instinct, the intoxication of religious frenzy, urged
them restlessly and aimlessly from place to place. They had no Holy
Land, no martyr's shrine, in view. Only the ineffable horror of a coming
judgment, only the stings of spiritual apprehension, the fierce craving
after sympathy in common acts of delirium, the allurements of an
exaltation shared by thousands, drove them on, lugubrious herds, like
Maenads of the wrath of God. This insurgence of all classes, swelling
upward from the lowest, gaining the middle regions, and confounding the
highest in the flood of one promiscuous multitude, threatened the very
fabric of society.[359] Repentance and compunction, exhibited upon a
scale of such colossal magnitude, attended by incidents of such
impassioned frenzy, assumed the aspect of vice and of insanity. Florence
shut her gates to the half-naked _Battuti_. At Milan the tyrants of the
Della Torre blood raised 600 gibbets as a warning. Manfred drew a
military cordon round his southern States to save them from contagion.
The revival was diagnosed by cold observers as an epidemic, or as a
craving akin to that which sets in motion droves of bisons on a
trackless plain. It needed drastic measures of Draconian justice to curb
a disease which threatened the whole nation. Gradually, the first fury
of this fanatical enthusiasm subsided. It was but the symptom of moral
and intellectual bewilderment, of what the French would call
_ahurissement_, in a race of naturally firm and patient fiber. Yet, when
it passed, durable traces of the agitation remained. Lay fraternities
were formed, not only in Umbria and Tuscany, but in almost all provinces
of the peninsula, who called themselves _Disciplinati di Gesu Cristo_.
These societies aimed at continuing the ascetic practices of the
Flagellants, and at prolonging their passion of penitence in a more
sober spirit. Scourging formed an essential part of their observances,
but it was used with decency and moderation. Their constitution was
strictly democratic, within limits sanctioned by the clergy. They
existed for the people, supplementing and not superseding the offices
of the Church. From the date of their foundation they seem to have paid
much attention to the recitation of hymns in the vernacular. These hymns
were called _Laude_. Written for and by the people, they were
distinguished from the Latin hymns of the Church by greater spontaneity
and rudeness. No limit of taste or literary art was set to the
expression of a fervent piety. The Lauds dwelt chiefly on the Passion of
our Lord, and were used as a stimulus to compunction. In course of time
this part of their system became so prominent that the _Battuti_ or
_Disciplinati_ acquired the milder title of _Laudesi_.[360]
From the _Laudesi_ of the fourteenth century rose one great lyric poet,
Jacopone da Todi, whose hymns embrace the whole gamut of religious
passion, from tender emotions of love to somber anticipations of death
and thrilling visions of judgment. Reading him, we listen to the true
lyrical cry of the people's heart in its intolerance of self-restraint,
blending the language of erotic ecstasy with sobs and sighs of
soul-consuming devotion, aspiring to heaven on wings sped by the energy
of human desire. The flight of his inebriated piety transcends and
out-soars the strongest pinion of ecclesiastical hymnology. Such lines
as--
Fac me plagis vulnerari,
Cruce hac inebriari
Ob amorem filii--
do but supply the theme for Jacopone's descant. Violently discordant
notes clash and mingle in his chords, and are resolved in bursts of
ardor bordering on delirium. He leaps from the grotesque of plebeian
imagery to pictures of sublime pathos, from incoherent gaspings to
sentences pregnant with shrewd knowledge of the heart, by sudden and
spontaneous transitions, which reveal the religious sentiment in its
simplest form, unspoiled by dogma, unstiffened by scholasticism. None,
for example, but a true child of the people could have found the
following expression of a desire to suffer with Christ[361]:
O Signor per cortesia
Mandame la malsania
A me la freve quartana
la contina e la terzana,
la doppia cottidiana
Colla grande ydropesia.
A me venga mal de dente
Mal de capo e mal de ventre,
a lo stomaco dolor pungente
en canna l'asquinantia.
Mal de occhi e doglia de fianco
e la postema al lato manco
tyseco me ionga enalco
e omne tempo la frenesia.
Agia el fegato rescaldato
la milza grossa el ventre enfiato,
lo polmone sia piagato
Con gran tossa e parlasia.
In order to understand Jacopone da Todi and to form any true conception
of the medium from which his poems sprang, it is necessary to study the
legend of his life, which, though a legend, bears upon its face the
stamp of truth. It is an offshoot from the Saga of S. Francis, a vivid
utterance of the times which gave it birth.[362] Jacopone was born at
Todi, one of those isolated ancient cities which rear themselves upon
their hill-tops between the valleys of the Nera and the Tiber, on the
old post-road from Narni to Perugia. He belonged to the family of the
Benedetti, who were reckoned among the noblest of the district. In his
youth he followed secular studies, took the degree of Doctor of Laws,
and practiced with a keen eye for gain and with not less, his biographer
hints, than the customary legal indifference for justice. He married a
beautiful young wife, whom he dressed splendidly and sent among his
equals to all places of medieval amusement. She was, however, inwardly
religious. The spirit of S. Francis had passed over her; and unknown to
all the crowd around her, unknown to her husband, she practiced the
extremities of ascetic piety. One day she went, at her husband's
bidding, to a merry-making of the nobles of Todi; and it so happened
that "while she was dancing and taking pleasure with the rest, an
accident occurred, fit to move the greatest pity. For the platform
whereupon the party were assembled, fell in and was broken to pieces,
causing grievous injury to those who stood upon it. She was so hurt in
the fall that she lost the power of speech, and in a few hours after
died. Jacopo, who by God's mercy was not there, no sooner heard the sad
news of his wife than he ran to the place. He found her on the point of
death, and sought, as is usual in those cases, to unlace her; but she,
though she could not speak, offered resistance to her husband's unlacing
her. However, he used force and overcame her, and unlaced and carried
her to his house. There, when she had died, he unclothed her with his
own hands, and found that underneath those costly robes and next to her
naked flesh she wore a hair-shirt of the roughest texture. Jacopone, who
up to now had believed his wife, since she was young and beautiful, to
be like other women, worldly and luxurious, stood as it were astonished
and struck dumb when he beheld a thing so contrary to his opinion.
Wherefore from that time forward he went among men like to one who is
stunned, and appeared no longer to be a reasonable man as theretofore.
The cause of this his change to outward view was not a sudden infirmity
of health, or extraordinary sorrow for the cruel death of his wife, or
any such-like occurrence, but an overwhelming compunction of the heart
begotten in him by this ensample, and a new recognition of what he was
and of his own wretchedness. Wherefore turning back to his own heart,
and reckoning with bitterness the many years that had been spent so
badly, and seeing the peril in which he had continued up to that time,
he set himself to change the manner of his life, and even as he had
lived heretofore wholly for the world, so now he resolved to live wholly
for Christ."
Jacopone's biographer goes on to tell us how, after this shock, he
became an altered man. He sold all his goods and gave away his substance
to the poor, retaining nothing for himself, but seeking by every device
within his power to render himself vile and ridiculous in the eyes of
men. At one time he stripped himself naked, and put upon his back the
trappings of an ass, and so appeared among the gentles of his earlier
acquaintance. On another occasion he entered a company of merry-making
folk in his brother's house without clothes, smeared with turpentine and
rolled in feathers like a bird.[363] By these mad pranks he acquired the
reputation of one half-witted, and the people called him Jacopone
instead of Messer Jacopo de' Benedetti. Yet there was a keen spirit
living in the man, who had determined literally to become a fool for
Christ's sake. A citizen once bought a fowl and bade Jacopone carry it
to his house. Jacopone took the bird and placed it in the man's family
vault, where it was found. To all remonstrances he answered with a
solemnity which inspired terror, that _there_ was the citizen's real
home. At the end of ten years spent in self-abasement of this sort,
Jacopone entered the lowest rank of the Franciscan brotherhood. The
composition of a Laud so full of spiritual fire that its inspiration
seemed indubitable, won for the apparent madman this grace. There was
something noble in his bearing, even though his actions and his
utterance proved his brain distempered. No fear of hell nor hope of
heaven, says his biographer, but God's infinite goodness and beauty
impelled him to embrace the monastic life and to subject himself to the
severest discipline. Meditating on the Divine perfection, he came to
regard himself as "entirely hideous, vile and stinking, beyond the most
abominable carrion." It was part of his religious exaltation to prove
this to himself by ghastly penances, instead of seeking to render his
body a fit temple for God's spirit by healthy and clean living. He had a
carnal partiality for liver; and in order to mortify this vile affection
he procured the liver of a beast and hung it in his cell. It became
putrid, swarmed with vermin, and infected the convent with its stench.
The friars discovered Jacopone rejoicing in the sight and odor of this
corruption. With sound good sense they then condemned him to
imprisonment in the common privies; but he rejoiced in this punishment,
and composed one of his most impassioned odes in that foul place. Still,
though he was clearly mad, he had the soul of a Christian and a poet.
His ecstasies were not always repugnant to our sense of delicacy.
Contemplating the wounds of Christ, it entered into his heart to desire
all suffering which it could be possible for man to undergo--the pangs
of all the souls condemned to purgatory, the torments of all the damned
in hell, the infinite anguish of all the devils--if only by this bearing
of the pains of others he might be made like Christ, and go at length,
the last of all the world, to Paradise. Not only the passion but the
love of Jesus inflamed him with indescribable raptures. He spent whole
days in singing, weeping, groaning, and ejaculation. "He ran," says the
biographer, "in a fury of love, and under the impression that he was
embracing and clasping Jesus Christ, would fling his arms about a tree."
It is not possible to imagine more potent workings of religious insanity
in a distempered and at the same time nobly-gifted character. That
obscene antipathy to nature which characterized medieval asceticism,
becomes poetic in a lunatic of genius like Jacopone. Nor was his natural
acumen blunted. He discerned how far the Papacy diverged from
Christianity in practice, and assailed Boniface VIII. with bitterest
invectives. Among other prophetic sayings ascribed to him, we find this,
which corresponds most nearly to the truth of history: "Pope Boniface,
like a fox thou didst enter on the Papacy, like a wolf thou reignest,
and like a dog shalt thou depart from it." For his free speech Boniface
had him sent to prison; and in his dungeon, rejoicing, Jacopone composed
the finest of his Canticles.
Such was the man who struck the key-note of religious popular poetry in
Italy, and whose Lauds may be regarded as the germ of a voluminous
literature. Passing from his life to his writings, it will suffice to
give a few specimens of those hymns which are most characteristic of his
temper. We have already seen how he brought together the most repulsive
details of disease, in order to express his desire to suffer with
Christ.[364] Here is the beginning of a canticle in praise of the
madness he embraced with a similar object[365]:
Senno me pare e cortesia
empazir per lo bel messia.
Ello me fa si gran sapere
a chi per dio vol empazire
en parige non se vidde
ancor si gran phylosofia.
These words found an echo after many years in Benivieni's even more
hysterical hymn upon divine madness, which was substituted in
Savonarola's Carnivals for the _Trionfi_ of Lorenzo de' Medici.
A trace of the Franciscan worship of poverty gives some interest to a
hymn on the advantages of pauperism. The theme, however, is supported
with solid arguments after the fashion of Juvenal's _vacuus
viator_[366]:
Povertate muore en pace,
nullo testamento face,
lassa el mondo como jace
e la gente concordate.
Non a judice ne notaro
a corte non porta salaro,
ridese del omo avaro
che sta en tanta anxietate.
Truer to the inebriation of Jacopone's piety are the following stanzas,
incoherent from excess of passion, which seem to be the ebullition of
one of his most frenzied moments[367]:
Amore amore che si mai ferito
altro che amore non posso gridare,
amore amore teco so unito
altro non posso che te abbracciare,
amore amore forte mai rapito
lo cor sempre si spande per amore
per te voglio pasmare: Amor ch'io teco sia
amor per cortesia: Fammi morir d'amore.
Amor amor Jesu so gionto aporto
amor amor Jesu tu m'ai menato,
amor amor Jesu damme conforto
amor amor Jesu si m'ai enflammato,
amor amor Jesu pensa lo porto
fammete star amor sempre abracciato,
con teco trasformato: En vera caritate
en somma veritate: De trasformato amore.
Amor amore grida tuttol mondo
amor amore omne cosa clama,
amore amore tanto se profondo
chi piu t'abraccia sempre piu t'abrama,
amor amor tu se' cerchio rotondo
con tuttol cor chi c'entra sempre t'ama,
che tu se' stame e trama: chi t'ama per vestire
cusi dolce sentire: Che sempre grida amore.
Amor amor Jesu desideroso
amor voglio morire a te abracciando,
amor amor Jesu dolce mio sposo
amor amor la morte l'ademando,
amor amor Jesu si delectoso
tu me t'arendi en te transformando,
pensa ch'io vo pasmando: Amor non so o me sia
Jesu speranza mia: Abyssame en amore.
A still more mysterious depth is sounded in another hymn in praise of
self-annihilation--the Nirvana of asceticism[368]:
Non posso esser renato
s'io en me non so morto,
anichilato en tucto
el esser conservare,
del nihil glorioso
nelom ne gusta fructo,
se Dio non fal conducto
che om non cia que fare,
o glorioso stare
en nihil quietato,
lontellecto posato
e laffecto dormire.
Ciocho veduto e pensato
tutto e feccia e bruttura
pensando de laltura
del virtuoso stato,
nel pelago chio veggio
non ce so notatura
faro somergitura
del om che anegato
sommece inarenato
nonor de smesuranza
vincto de labundanza
del dolce mio sire.
One of Jacopone's authentic poems so far detaches itself in character
and composition from the rest, and is so important, as will shortly be
seen, for the history of Italian dramatic art, that it demands separate
consideration.[369] It assumes the form of dialogue between Mary and
Christ upon the cross, followed by the lamentation of the Virgin over
her dead Son. A messenger informs the Mother that Christ has been taken
prisoner:
Donna del Paradiso,
Lo tuo figliolo e priso,
Jesu Cristo beato.
Accurre, donna, e vide
Che la gente l'allide;
Credo che llo s'occide,
Tanto l'on flagellato.
Attended by the Magdalen, whom she summons to her aid, Mary hurries to
the judgment-seat of Pilate, and begs for mercy:
O Pilato, non fare
'L figlio mio tormentare,
Ch'io te posso mostrare
Como a torto e accusato.
But here the voices of the Chorus, representing the Jewish multitude,
are heard:
Crucifige, crucifige!
Omo che se fa rege,
Secondo nostra lege,
Contradice al Senato.
Christ is removed to the place of suffering, and Mary cries:
O figlio, figlio, figlio,
Figlio, amoroso figlio,
Figlio, chi da consiglio
Al cor mio angustiato!
Figlio, occhi giocondi,
Figlio, co' non rispondi?
Figlio, perche t'ascondi
Dal petto o' se' lattato?
They show her the cross:
Madonna, ecco la cruce
Che la gente l'adduce,
Ove la vera luce
De' essere levato.
They tell her how Jesus is being nailed to it, sparing none of the
agonizing details. Then she exclaims:
E io comencio el corrotto;
Figliolo, mio deporto,
Figlio, chi mi t'a morto,
Figlio mio delicato!
Meglio averien fatto
Che 'l cor m'avesser tratto,
Che nella croce tratto
Starci desciliato.
Jesus now breaks silence, and comforts her, pointing out that she must
live for His disciples, and naming John. He dies, and she continues the
_Corrotto_[370]:
Figlio, l'alma t'e uscita,
Figlio de la smarrita,
Figlio de la sparita,
Figlio [mio] attossicato!
Figlio bianco e vermiglio,
Figlio senza simiglio,
Figlio, a chi m'apiglio,
Figlio, pur m'hai lassato!
Figlio bianco e biondo,
Figlio, volto jocondo,
Figlio, perche t'a el mondo,
Figlio, cusi sprezato!
Figlio dolce e piacente,
Figlio de la dolente,
Figlio, a te la gente
Malamente trattato!
Joanne, figlio novello,
Morto e lo tuo fratello;
Sentito aggio 'l coltello
Che fo profetizzato,
Che morto a figlio e mate,
De dura morte afferrate;
Trovarsi abbracciate
Mate e figlio a un cruciato.
Upon this note of anguish the poem closes. It is conducted throughout in
dialogue, and is penetrated with dramatic energy. For Passion Music of
a noble and yet flowing type, such as Pergolese might have composed, it
is still admirably adapted.
Each strophe of Fra Jacopone's Canticles might be likened to a seed cast
into the then fertile soil of the Franciscan Order, which bore fruit a
thousand-fold in its own kind of spiritual poetry. The vast collection
of hymns, published by Tresatti in the seventeenth century, bears the
name of Jacopone, and incorporates his genuine compositions.[371] But we
must regard the main body of the work as rather belonging to Jacopone's
school than to the master. Taken collectively, these poems bear upon
their face the stamp of considerable age, and there is no reason to
suppose that their editor doubted of their authenticity. A critical
reader of the present time, however, discerns innumerable evidences of
collaboration, and detects expansion and dilution of more pregnant
themes in the copious outpourings of this cloistral inspiration. What
the Giotteschi are to Giotto, Tresatti's collection is to Salviano's
imprint of Jacopone. It forms a complete manual of devotion, framed
according to the spirit of S. Francis. In its pages we read the progress
of the soul from a state of worldliness and vice, through moral virtue,
into the outer court of religious conviction. Thence we pass to
penitence and the profound terror of sin. Having traversed the region of
purgatory upon earth, we are introduced to the theory of Divine Love,
which is reasoned out and developed upon themes borrowed from each
previous step gained by the spirit in its heavenward journey. Here ends
the soul's novitiate; and we enter on a realm of ecstasy. The poet
bathes in an illimitable ocean of intoxicating love, summons the images
of sense and makes them adumbrate his rapture of devotion, reproducing
in a myriad modes the Oriental metaphors of the soul's marriage to
Christ suggested by the Canticle of Canticles. A final grade in this
ascent to spiritual perfection is attained in the closing odes, which
celebrate annihilation--the fusion of the mortal in immortal
personality, the bliss of beatific vision, Nirvana realized on earth in
ecstasy by man. At this final point sense swoons, the tongue stammers,
language refuses to perform her office, the reason finds no place, the
universe is whirled in spires of flame, we float in waves of metaphor,
we drown in floods of contemplation, the whole is closed with an _O
Altitudo!_
It is not possible to render scantiest justice to this extraordinary
monument of the Franciscan fervor by any extracts or descriptions. Its
full force can only be felt by prolonged and, if possible, continuous
perusal. S. Catherine and S. Teresa attend us while we read; and when
the book is finished, we feel, perhaps for the first time, the might,
the majesty, the overmastering attraction of that sea of faith which
swept all Europe in the thirteenth century. We understand how _naufragar
in questo mar fu dolce_.
Though the task is ungrateful, it behooves the historian of popular
Italian poetry to extract some specimens from this immense repertory of
anonymous lyrics. Omitting the satires, which are composed upon the
familiar monastic rubrics of vanity, human misery, the loathsomeness of
the flesh, and contempt of the world, I will select one stanza upon
Chastity from among the moral songs[372]:
O Castita bel fiore,
Che ti sostiene amore.
O fior di Castitate,
Odorifero giglio,
Con gran soavitate,
Sei di color vermiglio,
Et a la Trinitate
Tu ripresenti odore.
Chastity in another place is thus described[373]:--
La Castitate pura,
Piu bella che viola,
Cotanto ha chiaro viso
Che par un paradiso.
Poverty, the Cardinal Virtues, and the Theological Virtues receive their
full meed of praise in a succession of hymns. Then comes a long string
of proverbs, which contain much sober wisdom, with passages of poetic
feeling like the following[374]:
Li pesciarelli piccoli
Scampan la rete in mare;
Grand'ucel prende l'aquila,
Non puo 'l moscon pigliare;
Enchinasi la vergola,
L'acqua lassa passare;
Ma fa giu cader l'arbore,
Che non si puo inchinare.
Among the odes we may first choose this portion of a carol written to be
sung before the manger, or _presepe_, which it was usual to set up in
churches at Christmas[375]:
Veggiamo il suo Bambino
Gammettare nel fieno,
E le braccia scoperte
Porgere ad ella in seno,
Ed essa lo ricopre
El meglio che puo almeno,
Mettendoli la poppa
Entro la sua bocchina.
Cioppava lo Bambino
Con le sue labbruccia;
Sol la dolciata cioppa
Volea, non minestruccia;
Stringeala con la bocca
Che non avea dentuccia,
Il figliuolino bello,
Ne la dolce bocchina.
A la sua man manca,
Cullava lo Bambino,
E con sante carole
Nenciava il suo amor fino....
Gli Angioletti d'intorno
Se ne gian danzando,
Facendo dolci versi
E d'amor favellando.
There is a fresco by Giotto behind the altar in the Arena Chapel at
Padua, which illustrates part of this hymn. A picture attributed to
Botticelli in our National Gallery illustrates the rest. The spirit of
the carol has been reproduced with less sincerity in a Jesuit's Latin
hymn, _Dormi, fili, dormi, mater_.
Close upon the joys of Mary follow her sorrows. The following is a
popular echo of the _Stabat Mater_[376]:
Or si incomincia lo duro pianto
Che fa la Madre di Christo tanto;
Or intendete l'amaro canto,
Fu crocifisso quel capo santo.
Ma quando che s'inchiodava,
Presso al figliuolo la Madre stava;
Quando a la croce gli occhi levava,
Per troppa doglia ci trangosciava.
La Madre viddelo incoronato,
Et ne la croce tutto piagato,
Per le pene e pel sangue versato
Sitibondo gridar Consummato.
Many of the odes are devoted to S. Francis. One passage recording the
miracle of the Stigmata deserves to be extracted[377]:
La settima a Laverna,
Stando in orazione,
Ne la parte superna,
Con gran divozione,
Mirabil visione
Seraphin apparuto
Crucifisso e veduto,
Con sei ale mostrato:
Incorporotti stimmate
A lato piedi e mano;
Duro gia fora a credere
Se nol contiam di piano,
Staendo vivo et sano
Molti l'han mirate,
L'ha morte dichiarate,
Da molti fu palpato.
La sua carne bianchissima
Pareva puerile;
Avanti era brunissima
Per gli freddi nevili;
La fe amor si gentile,
Parea glorificata,
Da ogni gente ammirata
Del mirabil ornato.
The Penitential Hymns resound with trumpets of Judgment and groans of
lost souls. There is one terrible lament of a man who repented _after
death_; another of one arising from the grave, _damned_.[378] The Day of
Judgment inspires stanzas heavy with lugubrious chords and a leaden
fall[379]:
Tutta la terra tornera a niente,
Le pietre piangeranno duramente,
Conturbaronsi tutti i monumente,
Per la sententia di Dio onnipotente
Che tutti sentiranno.
* * * * *
Allora udrai dal ciel trombe sonare,
Et tutti morti vedrai suscitare,
Avanti al tribunal di Christo andare,
E 'l fuoco ardente per l'aria volare
Con gran velocitate.
* * * * *
Porgine aiuto, alto Signor verace,
E campane da quel foco penace,
E danne penitentia si verace
Che 'n ciel possiam venir a quella pace
Dove in eterno regni.
This is the _Dies Irae_ adapted for the people, and expanded in its
motives.
The exposition and the expression of Divine Love occupy a larger space
than any other section of the series. Mystical psychology, elaborated
with scholastic subtlety of argument and fine analysis of all the grades
of feeling, culminates in lyric raptures, only less chaotic than the
stanzas already quoted from Jacopone. The poet breaks out into short
ejaculations[380]:
O alta Nichilitate,
Dhe mi di dove tu stai!
He faints and swoons before the altar in the languors of emotion[381]:
Languisco per amore
Di Gesu mio Amatore.
We see before our eyes the trances of S. Catherine, so well portrayed
with sensuous force by Sodoma. Then he resumes the Song of Solomon in
stanzas to be counted by the hundred, celebrates the marriage of Christ
and the soul, or seeks crude carnal metaphors to convey his
meaning[382]:
Del tuo bacio, amore,
Degnami di baciare.
Dhe baciami, dolcezza
Di contrizione,
Et dolce soavezza
Di compunzione,
O santa allegrezza
Di devozione,
Per nulla stagione
Non m'abandonare.
Poi che 'l bacio sento,
Bevo a le mammelle
C'hanno odore d'unguento;
Pur le tue scintille
A bever non so lento
Con le mie maxille,
Piu che volte mille
Vo me inebriare.
Let this suffice. With the language of sweetness and monastic love we
are soon surfeited. Were it not that the _crescendo_ of erotic
exaltation ends at last in a jubilee of incomprehensible passion,
blending the incoherence of delirium with fragments of theosophy which
might have been imported from old Alexandrian sources or from dim
regions of the East, a student of our century would shrink aghast from
some of these hermaphroditic hymns, as though he had been witness of
wild acts of nympholepsy in a girl he reckoned sane.
Through the two centuries which followed Jacopone's death (1306?) the
Lauds of the Confraternities continued to form a special branch of
popular poetry; and in the fifteenth century they were written in
considerable quantities by men of polite education. Like all hymns,
these spiritual songs are less remarkable for literary quality than
devoutness. It is difficult to find one rising to the height of
Jacopone's inspiration. Many of the later compositions even lack
religious feeling, and seem to have been written as taskwork. Those, for
example, by Lorenzo de' Medici bear the same relation to his _Canti
Carnascialeschi_ as Pontano's odes to the Saints bear to his elegies and
Baian lyrics. This was inevitable in an age saturated with the adverse
ideals of the classical Revival, when Platonic theism threatened to
supplant Christianity, and society was clogged with frigid cynicism. Yet
even in the sixteenth century, those hymns which came directly from the
people's heart, thrilling with the strong vibrations of Savonarola's
preaching, are still remarkable for almost frantic piety. Among the
many Florentine hymn-writers who felt that influence, Girolamo Benivieni
holds the most distinguished place, both for the purity of his style and
for the sincerity of his religious feeling. I will set side by side two
versions from his book of Lauds, illustrating the extreme limits of
devout emotion--the calmness of a meditative piety and the spasms of
passionate enthusiasm. The first is a little hymn to Jesus, profoundly
felt and expressed with exquisite simplicity[383]:
Jesus, whoso with Thee
Hangs not in pain and loss
Pierced on the cruel cross,
At peace shall never be.
Lord, unto me be kind:
Give me that peace of mind,
Which in this world so blind
And false dwells but with Thee.
Give me that strife and pain,
Apart from which 'twere vain
Thy love on earth to gain
Or seek a share in Thee.
If, Lord, with Thee alone
Heart's peace and love be known,
My heart shall be Thine own,
Ever to rest with Thee.
Here in my heart be lit
Thy fire, to feed on it,
Till burning bit by bit
It dies to live with Thee.
Jesus, whoso with Thee
Hangs not in pain or loss,
Pierced on the cruel cross,
At peace shall never be.
The second is an echo of Jacopone's eulogy of madness, prolonged and
developed with amorous extravagance[384]:
Never was there so sweet a gladness,
Joy of so pure and strong a fashion,
As with zeal and love and passion
Thus to embrace Christ's holy madness.
They who are mad in Jesus, slight
All that the wise man seeks and prizes;
Wealth and place, pomp, pride, delight,
Pleasure and fame, their soul despises:
Sorrow and tears and sacrifices,
Poverty, pain, and low estate,
All that the wise men loathe and hate,
Are sought by the Christian in his madness.
They who are fools for Christ in heaven,
Should they be praised peradventure, mourn,
Seeing the praise that to them is given
Was taken from God; but hate and scorn
With joy and gladness of soul are borne:
The Christian listens and smiles for glee
When he hears the taunt of his foe, for he
Glories and triumphs in holy madness.
Many collections of Lauds were early committed to the press; and of
these we have an excellent modern reprint in the _Laude spirituali di
Feo Belcari e di altri_, which includes hymns by Castellano Castellani,
Bernardo Giambullari, Francesco Albizzi, Lorenzo de' Medici, Lucrezia
Tornabuoni, and the Pulci brothers.[385] Studying this miscellany, we
perceive that between the _Laude_ and _Ballate_ of the people there is
often little but a formal difference. Large numbers are parodies of
amatory or obscene songs, beginning with nearly the same words and
intended to be sung to the same tunes. Thus the famous ballad, _O vaghe
montanine e pastorelle_ becomes _O vaghe di Gesu, o verginelle_.[386]
The direction for singing _Crucifisso a capo chino_ is _Cantasi
come--Una donna di fino amore_, which was a coarse street song in vogue
among the common folk.[387] _Vergine, alta regina_, is modeled upon
_Galantina, morosina_; _I' son quella pecorella_ upon _I' son quella
villanella_; _Giu per la mala via l'anima mia ne va_ on _Giu per la
villa lunga la bella se ne va_.[388] Others are imitations of carnival
choruses noted for their grossness and lewd innuendoes.[389] It is clear
that the _Laudesi_, long before the days of Rowland Hill, discerned the
advantage of not letting the devil have all the good tunes. Other
parallels between the Florentine Lauds and the revival hymns of the
present century might be pointed out. Yet in proportion as the Italian
religious sentiment is more sensuous and erotic than that of the
Teutonic nations, so are the Lauds more unreservedly emotional than the
most audacious utterances of American or English Evangelicalism. As an
excellent Italian critic has recently observed, the amorous and
religious poems of the people were only distinguished by the difference
of their object. Expression, versification, melody, pitch of sentiment,
remained unaltered. "Men sang the same _strambotti_ to the Virgin and
the lady of their love, to the rose of Jericho and the red rose of the
balcony."[390] No notion of impropriety seems to have been suggested by
this confusion of divergent feelings. Otherwise, Savonarola would hardly
have suffered his proselytes to roam the streets chanting stanzas which
are little better than echoes from the brothel or travesties of
Poliziano's chorus of the Maenads. The Italians have never been pious in
the same sense as the Northern nations. Their popular religious poetry
is the lyric of emotion, the lyric of the senses losing self-restraint
in an outpouring of voluptuous ecstasy. With them "music is a
love-lament or a prayer addressed to God;" and both constituents of
music blend and mingle indistinguishably in their hymns. As they lack
the sublime Chorales of the Reformation period in Germany, so they lack
the grave and meditative psalms for which Bach made his melodies.
The origins of the Italian theater were closely connected with the
services of the _Laudesi_. And here it has to be distinctly pointed out
that the evolution of the Sacred Drama in Italy followed a different
course from that with which we are familiar in France and England.
Miracle-plays and Mysteries, properly so called, do not appear to have
been common among the Italians in the early middle ages. There is,
indeed, one exception to this general statement which warns us to be
cautious, and which proves that the cyclical sacred play had been
exhibited at least in one place at a very early date. At Cividale, in
the district of Friuli, a _Ludus Christi_, embracing the principal
events of Christian history from the Passion to the Second Advent, was
twice acted, in 1298 and 1303. From the scanty notices concerning it, we
are able to form an opinion that it lasted over three days, that it was
recited by the clergy, almost certainly in Latin, and that the
representation did not take place in church.[391] The Friulian _Ludi
Christi_ were, in fact, a Mystery of the more primitive type,
corresponding to Greban's _Mystere de la Passion_ and to our Coventry or
Widkirk Miracles. But, so far as present knowledge goes, this sacred
play was an isolated phenomenon, and proved unfruitful of results. We
are only able to infer from it, what the close intercourse of the
Italians with the French would otherwise make evident, that Mysteries
were not entirely unknown in the Peninsula. Yet it seems clear, upon the
other hand, that the two forms of the sacred drama specific to Italy,
the Umbrian _Divozione_ and the Florentine _Sacra Rappresentazione_,
were not a direct outgrowth from the Mystery. We have to trace their
origin in the religious practices of the _Laudesi_, from which a species
of dramatic performance was developed, and which placed the sacred drama
in the hands of these lay confraternities.
At first the _Disciplinati di Gesu_ intoned their Lauds in the hall of
the Company, standing before the crucifix or tabernacle of a saint, as
they are represented in old wood-cuts.[392] From simple singing they
passed to antiphonal chanting, and thence made a natural transition to
dialogue, and lastly to dramatic action. To trace the steps of this
progress is by no means easy; nor must we imagine that it was effected
wholly within the meeting-places of the confraternities without external
influence. Though the Italians may not have brought the Miracle-play to
the perfection it attained among the Northern nations, they were, as we
have seen, undoubtedly aware of its existence. Furthermore, they were
familiar with ecclesiastical shows but little removed in character from
that form of medieval art. Representations of the manger at Bethlehem
made part of Christmas ceremonies in Umbria, as we learn from a passage
in the works of S. Bonaventura referring to the year 1223.[393] Nor were
occasions wanting when pageants enlivened the ritual of the Church.
Among liturgical dramas, enacted by priests and choristers at service
time, may be mentioned the descent of the Angel Gabriel at the feast of
the Annunciation, the procession of the Magi at Epiphany, the descent of
the dove at Pentecost, and the Easter representation of a sepulcher from
which the body of Christ had been removed. Thus the _Laudesi_ found
precedents in the Liturgy itself for introducing a dramatic element into
their offices.
Having assumed a more or less dramatic form, the Laud acquired the name
of _Divozione_ as early as the middle of the fourteenth century. It was
written in various lyric meters, beginning with six-lined stanzas in
_ottonari_, passing through hendecasyllabic _sesta rima_, and finally
settling down into _ottava rima_, which became the common stanza for all
forms of popular poetry in the fifteenth century.[394] The passion of
our Lord formed the principal theme of the _Divozioni_; for the
_Laudesi_ were bound by their original constitution to a special
contemplation of His suffering upon the cross for sinners. The Perugian
Chronicles refer to compositions of this type under the name of
_Corrotto_, or song of mourning. In its highest form it was the
passionate outpouring of Mary's anguish over her crucified Son--the
counterpart in poetry to the _Pieta_ of painting, for which the
Giottesque masters, the Umbrian school, Crivelli, and afterwards
Mantegna, reserved the strongest exhibition of their powers as
dramatists. We have already seen with what a noble and dramatic dialogue
Jacopone da Todi initiated this species of composition.[395] At the same
time, the _Divozioni_ and the Lauds from which they sprang, embraced a
wide variety of subjects, following the passages of Scripture appointed
to be read in church on festivals and Sundays. Thus the Laud for Advent
dramatized the Apocalypse and introduced the episode of Antichrist. The
story of the Prodigal furnished a theme for the vigil when that parable
was used. It was customary to sing these compositions in the oratories
after the discipline of the confraternity had been duly performed; and
that they were sung, is a fact of importance which must never be
forgotten. Every Company had its own collection of dramatic Lauds,
forming a cycle of sacred melodramas, composed with no literary end and
no theatrical effect in view, but with the simple purpose of expressing
by dialogue the substance of a Scripture narrative.
An inventory of the Perugian Confraternity of S. Domenico, dated in the
year 1339, includes wings and crowns for sixty-eight angels, masks for
devils, a star for the Magi, a crimson robe for Christ, black veils for
the Maries, two lay figures of thieves, a dove to symbolize the Holy
Ghost, a coat of mail for Longinus, and other properties which prove
that not Passion-plays alone but dramas suited to Epiphany, Pentecost
and the Annunciation must have been enacted at that period. Yet we have
no exact means of ascertaining when the _Laudesi_ left their oratories
and began to recite _Divozioni_ with action in church or on the open
square. The Compagnia del Gonfalone are said to have presented a play to
the Roman people in the Coliseum in 1260; but though the brotherhood was
founded in that year, it is more than doubtful whether their famous
Passion dates from so early an epoch.[396] By the year 1375 it had
become customary for _Laudesi_ to give representations in church,
accompanied by a sermon from the pulpit. The audience assembled in the
nave, and a scaffold was erected along the screen which divided the
nave and transepts from the choir. Here the brethren played their
pieces, while the preacher at appropriate intervals addressed the
people, explaining what they were about to see upon the stage or
commenting on what had been performed.[397] The actors were the Chorus,
the preacher the Choregus. The stage was technically called
_talamo_.[398] It had a large central compartment, corresponding to the
"Logeion" of the Attic theater, with several smaller rooms termed
_luoghi deputati_, and galleries above reserved for the celestial
personages. The actors entered from a central and two side doors called
_reggi_.
These Umbrian _Divozioni_ form a link between the Laud of the thirteenth
and the _Sacra Rappresentazione_ of the fifteenth century. They
still--in form at least, if not in sacred character--survive in the
_Maggi_ of the Tuscan peasantry, which are yearly acted among the
villages of the Lucchese and Pistojese highlands.[399] It is difficult
to say how far we are justified in regarding them as wholly different in
type from the Northern Miracle-plays. That they originated in the
oratories of lay brotherhoods, and that they retained the character of
Lauds to be sung after they had assumed dramatic shape, may be reckoned
as established points. Moreover, they lack the cyclical extension and
the copious admixture of grotesquely comic elements which mark the
French and English Mysteries. Yet we have already seen that such
Mysteries were not entirely unknown in Italy, and that the liturgical
drama, performed by ecclesiastics, had been from early times a part of
Church ceremonial on holy days. We are, therefore, justified in
accepting the _Divozioni_ as the Italian species of a genus which was
common to the medieval nations. The development of Gothic architecture
in Central Italy might furnish an illustration. Its differentiation from
the grander and more perfect type of French and English Gothic does not
constitute a separate style.
To bridge the interval between the _Divozione_, used in Umbria, and the
_Sacra Rappresentazione_, as it appeared at Florence, is rendered
impossible by the present lack of documents. Still there seems
sufficient reason to believe that the latter was evolved from the former
within the precincts of the confraternities. In the _Sacra
Rappresentazione_ the religious drama of Italy reached its highest point
of development, and produced a form of art peculiar to Florence and the
Tuscan cities. Though it betrays certain affinities to the Northern
Miracle-play, which prove familiarity with the French _Mysteres_ on the
part at least of some among the playwrights, it is clearly a distinct
kind. As in the case of the Umbrian _Divozioni_, so here the absence of
grotesque episodes is striking; nor do we find connected series of
_Sacre Rappresentazioni_, embracing the Christian history in a cyclical
dramatic work. This species flourished for about fifty years, from 1470
to 1520. These dates are given approximately; for though we know that
the Sacred Drama of Florence did not long survive the second decade of
the sixteenth century, we cannot ascertain the period of its origin. The
_Sacre Rappresentazioni_ we possess in print, almost all written within
the last thirty years of the fifteenth century, present so marked a
similarity of style and structure that they must have been preceded by a
series of experiments which fixed and conventionalized their form. Like
the _Divozioni_, they were in the hands of confraternities, who caused
them to be acted at their own expense. Since these Companies were
wealthy, and included members of the best Florentine families, their
plays were put upon the stage with pomp. The actors were boys belonging
to the brotherhoods, directed by a Chorodidascalus called _Festajuolo_.
S. Antonino, the good archbishop, promoted the custom of enrolling
youths of all classes in religious Companies, seeking by such influences
to encourage sound morality and sober living. The most fashionable
brotherhoods were those of San Bastiano or Del Freccione, Del Vangelista
or Dell'Aquila, Dell'Arcangelo Raffaello or Della Scala--the name of the
saint or his ensign being indifferently used. Representations took place
either in the oratory of the Company, or in the refectory of a convent.
Meadows at Fiesole and public squares were also chosen for open-air
performances.[400] The _libretti_ were composed in octave stanzas, with
passages of _terza rima_, and were sung to a recitative air. Interludes
of part-songs, with accompaniment of lute and viol, enlivened the
simple _cantilena_; and there is no doubt, from contemporary notices,
that this music was of the best. The time selected was usually after
vespers. The audience were admitted free of cost, but probably by
invitation only to the friends and relatives of the young actors. _Sacra
Rappresentazione_ was the generic name of the show; but we meet with
these subordinate titles, _Festa_, _Mistero_, _Storia_, _Vangelo_,
_Figura_, _Esemplo_, _Passione_, _Martirio_, _Miracolo_, according to
the special subject-matter of the play in question.
D'Ancona, in his book on the Origins of the Italian Drama, suggests that
the _Sacre Rappresentazioni_ were developed by a blending of the Umbrian
_Divozioni_ with the civic pageants of S. John's day at Florence. This
theory is plausible enough to deserve investigation; especially as many
points relating to the nature of the performances will be elucidated in
the course of the inquiry. We must, however, be cautious not to take for
granted that D'Ancona's conclusions have been proved. The researches of
that eminent literary antiquarian, in combination with those made by
Professor Monaci, are but just beginning to throw light on this hitherto
neglected topic.
From the Chroniclers of the fifteenth century we have abundant testimony
that in all parts of Italy sacred and profane shows formed a prominent
feature of municipal festivals, and were exhibited by the burghers of
the cities when they wished to welcome a distinguished foreigner, or to
celebrate the election of their chief magistrates.[401] Thus Sigismund,
King of the Romans, was greeted at Lucca in 1432 by a solemn triumph.
Perugia gratified Eugenius IV. in 1444 with the story of the Minotaur,
the tragedy of Iphigenia, the Nativity and the Ascension.[402] The
popular respect for S. Bernardino found expression at Siena in a
pageant, when the Papal Curia, in 1450, issued letters for his
canonization.[403] Frederick III. was received in 1452 at Naples with
the spectacle of the Passion. Leonora of Aragon, on her way through Rome
in 1473 to Ferrara, witnessed a series of pantomimes, profane and
sacred, splendidly provided by Pietro Riario, the Cardinal of San
Sisto.[404] The triumphs of the Popes on entering office filled the
streets of Rome with dramatic exhibitions, indifferently borrowed from
Biblical and classic history. At Parma in 1414 the students celebrated
the election of Andrea di Sicilia to a chair in their university by a
procession of the Magi.[405] When the head of S. Andrew entered Rome in
1462, the citizens and prelates testified their joy with figurative
pomps.[406] Viterbo in the same year enjoyed a variety of splendid
exhibitions, Cardinal vying with Cardinal in magnificence, upon the
festival of Corpus Domini.[407]
The pageants above-mentioned formed but prolusions to the yearly feast
of S. John at Florence.[408] Florence had, as it were, the monopoly of
such shows; and we know from many sources that Florentine artists were
employed in distant cities for the preparation of spectacles which they
had brought to perfection in their own town. An extract from Matteo
Palmieri's Chronicle, referring to the year 1454, brings this Midsummer
rejoicing vividly before the reader's mind.[409] It is an accurate
description of the order followed at that period in the exhibition of
pantomimic pageants by the guilds and merchants of the town. "On the 22d
day of June the Cross of S. Maria del Fiore moved first, with all the
clergy and children, and behind them seven singing men. Then the
Companies of James the wool-shearer and Nofri the shoe-maker, with some
thirty boys in white and angels. Thirdly, the Tower (_edifizio_) of S.
Michael, whereupon stood God the Father in a cloud (_nuvola_); and on
the Piazza, before the Signoria, they gave the show (_rappresentazione_)
of the Battle of the Angels, when Lucifer was cast out of heaven.
Fourthly, the Company of Ser Antonio and Piero di Mariano, with some
thirty boys clothed in white and angels. Fifthly, the Tower of Adam, the
which on the Piazza gave the show of how God created Adam and Eve, with
the Temptation by the serpent and all thereto pertaining. Sixthly, a
Moses upon horseback, attended by many mounted men of the chiefs in
Israel and others. Seventhly, the Tower of Moses, which upon the Piazza
gave the show of the Delivery of the Law. Eighthly, many Prophets and
Sibyls, including Hermes Trismegistus and others who foretold the
Incarnation of our Lord." With this list Palmieri proceeds at great
length, reckoning in all twenty-two Towers. The procession, it seems,
stopped upon its passage to exhibit tableaux; and these were so arranged
that the whole Scripture history was set forth in dumb show, down to the
Last Day. The representation of each tableau and the moving of the
pageant through the streets and squares of Florence lasted sixteen
hours. It will be observed that, here at least, a cyclical exposition of
Christian doctrine, corresponding to the comprehensive Mysteries of the
North, was attempted in pantomime. The Towers, we may remark in passing,
were wooden cars, surmounted with appropriate machinery, on which the
actors sat and grouped themselves according to their subject. They
differed in no essentials from the Triumphal Chariots of carnival time,
as described by Vasari in his Lives of Piero di Cosimo and Pontormo.
From an anonymous Greek writer who visited Florence in the train of John
Palaeologus, we gather some notion of the effect produced upon a stranger
by these pageants.[410] He describes the concourse of the Florentines,
and gives the measure of his own astonishment by saying: "They work
prodigies in this feast, and miracles, or at least the representation of
miracles."
Vasari in his life of Il Cecca contributes much valuable information
concerning the machinery used in the shows of S. John's Day.[411] The
Piazza of the Duomo was covered in with a broad blue awning--similar, we
may suppose, to that veil of deeper and lighter azure bands which forms
the background to Fra Lippi's "Crowning of the Virgin." This was sown
with golden lilies, and was called a Heaven. Beneath it were the clouds,
or _Nuvole_, exhibited by various civic guilds. They were constructed of
substantial wooden frames, supporting an almond-shaped aureole, which
was thickly covered with wool, and surrounded with lights and cherub
faces. Inside it sat the person who represented the saint, just as
Christ and Madonna are represented in the pictures of the Umbrian
school. Lower down, projected branches made of iron, bearing children
dressed like angels, and secured by waist-bands in the same way as the
fairies of our transformation scenes. The wood-work and the wires were
hidden from sight by wool and cloth, plentifully sprinkled with tinsel
stars. The whole moved slowly on the backs of bearers concealed beneath
the frame. Vasari attributes the first invention of these and similar
_ingegni_ to Filippo Brunelleschi. Their similarity to what we know
about the _pegmata_ of Roman triumphs, renders this assertion probable.
Brunelleschi's study of ancient art may have induced him to adapt a
classical device to the requirements of Christian pageantry. When
designed on a colossal scale and stationary, these _Nuvole_ were known
by the name of _Paradiso_. Another prominent feature in the Midsummer
Show was the procession of giants and giantesses mounted upon stilts,
and hooded with fantastic masks. Men marched in front, holding a pike to
balance these unwieldy creatures; but Vasari states that some
specialists in this craft were able to walk the streets on stilts six
cubits high, without assistance. Then there were _spiritelli_--lighter
and winged beings, raised aloft to the same height, and shining down
like genii from their giddy altitude in sunlight on the crowd.
Whether we are right or not in assuming with D'Ancona that the _Sacra
Rappresentazione_ was a hybrid between the Umbrian _Divozione_ and these
pageants, there is no doubt that the Florentine artists, and
_Ingegnieri_, were equal to furnishing the stage with richness. The
fraternities spared no expense, but secured the services of the best
designers. They also employed versifiers of repute to compose their
libretti. It must be remembered that these texts were written for boys,
and were meant to be acted by boys. Thus there came into existence a
peculiar type of sacred drama, displaying something childish in its
style, but taxing the ingenuity of scene-painters, mechanicians,
architects, musicians, and poets, to produce a certain calculated
theatrical effect. When we remember how these kindred arts flourished in
the last decades of the fifteenth century, we are justified in believing
that the _Sacre Rappresentazioni_ offered a spectacle no less beautiful
than curious and rare.
An examination of a few of these plays in detail will help us to
understand one of the most original products of the popular Italian
literature. With this object, I propose to consider the three volumes of
reprints, edited with copious illustrations by Professor Alessandro
d'Ancona.[412] But before proceeding to render an account of the
forty-three plays included in this collection, it will be well to give
some notice of the men who wrote them, to describe their general
character, and to explain the manner of their presentation on the stage.
The authors of _Sacre Rappresentazioni_ are frequently anonymous; but
Lorenzo de' Medici, Antonio Alamanni, Bernardo Pulci and his wife Monna
Antonia contribute each a sacred drama. The best were written by Feo
Belcari and Castellano Castellani. Of the latter very little is known,
except that in the year 1517 he exercised the priestly functions at
Florence and was a prolific writer of Lauds. Feo Belcari, a Florentine
citizen, born in 1410, held civic offices of distinction during the
ascendency of Casa Medici. He was a man of birth and some learning, who
devoted himself to the production of literature in prose and verse
intended for popular edification. His Lauds are among the best which
have descended from the fifteenth century, and his translation of the
Lives of the Fathers into Tuscan is praised for purity of style. When he
died, in 1484, "poor, weak, and white-haired," Girolamo Benivieni, the
disciple of Savonarola and the greatest sacred singer of that age,
composed his elegy in verses of mingled sweetness and fervor[413]:
Tace il celeste suon, gia spenta e morta
E l'armonia di quella dolce lira,
Che 'l mondo afflitto or lascia, e 'l ciel conforta.
E come parimenti si sospira
Qui la sua morte, cosi in ciel s'allegra
Chi alla nuova armonia si volge e gira.
Felice lui che dalla infetta e negra
Valle di pianti al ciel n'e gito, e 'n terra
Lasciata ha sol la veste inferma ed egra,
Ed or dal mondo e dall'orribil guerra
De' vizi sciolto, il suo splendor vagheggia
Nel volto di Colui che mai non erra.
As regards their form, the _Sacre Rappresentazioni_ are never divided
into acts; but the copious stage-directions prove that the scenes were
shifted, and in one or two instances secular interludes are introduced
in the pauses of the action.[414] The drama follows the tale or legend
without artistic structure of plot; nor do the authors appear to have
aimed, except in subordinate episodes, at much development of character.
What they found ready to their hand in prose, they versified. The same
fixed personages, and the same traditional phrases recur with singular
monotony, proving that a conventional framework and style had become
stereotyped. The end in view was religious edification. Therefore mere
types of virtue in saints and martyrs, types of wickedness in tyrants
and persecutors, sufficed alike for authors, actors, and audience. True
dramatic genius emerges only in the minor parts, where a certain freedom
of handling and effort after character-drawing are discernible. The
success of the play depended on the movement of the story, and the
attractions of the scenery, costumes and music. It was customary for an
angel to prologize and to dismiss the audience[415]; but his place is
once at least taken by a young man with a lute.[416] A more dramatic
opening was occasionally attempted in a conversation between two boys of
Florence, the one good and the other bad; and instead of the _licenza_
the scene sometimes closed with a _Te Deum_, or a Laud sung by the
actors and probably taken up by the spectators. Castellani in his
_Figliuol Prodigo_ made good use of the dramatic opening, gradually
working the matter of his play out of a dialogue which begins with a
smart interchange of Florentine chaff.[417] It would be useless even to
attempt a translation of this scene. The raciness of its obsolete
street-slang would evaporate, and the fiber of the piece is not strong
enough to bear rude handling. It must suffice to indicate its rare
dramatic quality. Students of our own Elizabethan literature may
profitably compare this picture of manners with similar passages in
_Hycke Scorner_ or _Lusty Juventus_. But the Florentine interlude is
more fairly representative of actual life than any part of our
Moralities. Castellani's Prodigal Son, however, rises altogether to a
higher artistic level than the ordinary; and the same may be said about
the _Miracolo di S. Maria Maddalena_, where a simple dramatic motive is
interwoven with the action of the whole piece and made to supply a
proper ending.[418]
As a rule, the _Sacre Rappresentazioni_ partook of the character of a
religious service. Their tone is uniformly pious. Yet the spirit of the
age and the nature of the Italians were alike unfavorable to piety of a
true temper. Here it is unctuous, caressing, sentimental--anything but
vigorous or virile. The monastic virtues are highly extolled; and an
unwholesome view of life seen from the cloister by some would-be saint,
who "winks and shuts his apprehension up" to common facts of experience,
is too often presented. Vice is sincerely condemned; yet the morality
of these exhibitions cannot be applauded. Instead of the stern lessons
of humanity conveyed in a drama like that of Athens or of England, the
precepts of the pulpit and confessional are enforced with a childish
simplicity that savors more of cloistral pietism than of true knowledge
of the world. Mere belief in the intercession of saints and the efficacy
of relics is made to cover all crimes; while the anti-social enthusiasms
of dreamy boys and girls are held up for imitation. We feel that we are
reading what a set of feeble spiritual directors wrote with a touch of
conscious but well-meaning insincerity for children. The glaring
contrast between the professed asceticism of the fraternities and the
future conduct of their youthful members in the world of the Renaissance
leaves a suspicion of hypocrisy.[419] This impression is powerfully
excited by Lorenzo de' Medici's _Rappresentazione di S. Giovanni e
Paolo_, which was acted by his children. The tone is not, indeed, so
unctuous as that of Castellani. Yet when we remember what manner of man
was Lorenzo; when we reflect what parts were played by his sons, Piero
and Leo X., upon the stage of Italy; the sanctimonious tone of its
frigid octave stanzas fails to impose on our credulity.