known to be in existence.
“This collection was edited by Cælius Secundus Curio, a Piedmontese,
who, being a reformer, had suffered persecution, confiscation, exile,
and imprisonment in the Inquisition. From the latter he escaped, and
while spending his later days in exile in Switzerland he printed this
volume and sent it forth to harass his enemies and bigoted opponents.
The chief aim of the book was to attack the Romish Church; and some of
the satires are evidently German, and probably from the hands of his
friends. It is greatly to be regretted that no other collection exists;
and since so great a success has attended the admirable collections of
popular songs and proverbs in Tuscany, it is to be hoped that some
competent Italian may soon be found who will have the spirit and
patience to collect the pasquinades of more modern days.
“The earliest pasquinades were directed against the Borgian Pope,
Alexander VI. (Sextus), the infamy of whose life can scarcely be
written. Of him says Pasquin—
“‘Sextus Tarquinus, Sextus Nero—Sextus et iste;
Semper sub Sextis perdita Roma fuit.’
(Always under the Sextuses Rome has been ruined.) Again, in allusion to
the fact that he obtained his election by the grossest bribery, and, as
Guicciardini expresses it, ‘infected the whole world by selling without
distinction holy and profane things,’ Pasquino says—
“‘Alexander sells the keys, the altar, Christ:
He who bought them first has a good right to sell.’
Here, too, is another savage epigram on the Borgian Pope, referring to
the murder of his son, Giovanni, Duca di Gandia. His brother, Cesare,
Duca di Valentino, slew him at night and threw his body into the Tiber,
from which it was fished out next morning—
“‘Lest we should think you not a fisher of men, O Sextus,
Lo, for your very son with nets you fish!’
“No epigrams worth recording seem to have been made during the short
reign of Pius III.; but Julius II., the warlike, fiery, impetuous
soldier drew upon himself the constant fire of Pasquin. Alluding to the
story that, when leading his army out of Rome, he threw the keys of
Peter into the Tiber, saying that he would henceforth trust to the sword
of Paul, Pasquin, merely repeating his impetuous words, says—
“‘Since nothing the keys of Peter for battle can profit,
The sword of Paul, perhaps, may be of use.’
And again, referring to the beard which Julius was the first among the
Popes of comparatively late days to wear—
“‘The beard of Paul, and the sword of Paul—I would fain have all things
of Paul—
As for that key-bearer Peter, he’s not to my liking at all.’
But of all the epigrams on Julius none is so stern and fierce as this—
“‘Julius is at Rome—what is wanting? Ye gods, give us Brutus.
For whenever at Rome is Julius, the city is lost!’
“If to Julius Pasquin was severe, he was scathing to his licentious and
venal successor, Leo X., who raised money for his vices by the sale of
cardinals’ hats and indulgences. Many of these epigrams are too coarse
to bear translation; here is one, however, more decent, if less bitter,
than many—
“‘Bring me gifts, spectators! bring me not verses.
Divine money alone rules the ethereal gods.’
And again, referring to Leo’s taste for buffoons, he says—
“‘Pasquin, why have you never asked to be made a buffoon?
All things now are permitted at Rome to buffoons.’
Here is another, referring to the story, current at Rome, that Leo’s
death was occasioned by poison, and on account of its suddenness there
was no time to administer to him the last sacraments—
“‘At the last hour of life, if, perchance, you ask why Leo
Could not the sacraments take—’tis plain he had sold them all!’
“During the short reign of the ascetic Adrian VI. Pasquin seems to have
been comparatively silent, perhaps through respect for that hard,
bigoted, but honest Pope. Under his successor, Clement VII., Rome was
besieged, taken, and sacked by the Constable de Bourbon, and through the
horrors of those days Pasquin’s voice was seldom heard. One saying of
his, however, has been preserved, which was uttered during the period of
the Pope’s imprisonment in the Castle Saint Angelo. With a sneer at his
infallibility and his imprisonment, he says: ‘Papa non potest
errare’—‘The Pope cannot err (or go astray’)—_errare_ having both
meanings. But if Pasquin spared the Pope during his life he threw a
handful of epigrams on his coffin at his death.... Thus in reference to
the physician, Matteo Curzio, or Curtius, to whose ignorance Clement’s
death was attributed—
“‘Curtius has killed our Clement—let gold then be given
To Curtius for thus securing the public health.’
“On Paul III., the Farnese Pope, Pasquin exercised his wit, but not
always very successfully. This Pope was celebrated for his nepotism, and
for the unscrupulous ways in which he endeavoured to build up his house
and enrich his family, and one of Pasquin’s epigrams refers to this, as
well as to the well-known fact that he built his palace by despoiling
the Colosseum of its travertine—
“‘Let us pray for Pope Paul, for his zeal,
For his house is eating him up.’
“With Paul III. ceases the record of the _Pasquillorum Tomi Duo_,
published at Eleutheropolis in 1544, and we now hunt out only rarely
here and there an epigram. Against Sextus V., that cruel, stern old man,
who never lifted his eyes from the ground until he had attained that
great reward for all his hypocritical humility, the papal chair, several
epigrams are recorded. One of these, in the form of dialogue, and given
by Leti in his life of Sextus, is worth recording for the story
connected with it. Pasquin makes his appearance in a very dirty shirt,
and being asked by Marforio the reason of this, answers that he cannot
procure a clean shirt because his washerwoman has been made a princess
by the Pope; thus referring to the story that the Pope’s sister had
formerly been a laundress. This soon came to the ears of the Pope, who
ordered that the satirist should be sought for and punished severely.
All researches, however, were vain. At last, by his order and in his
name, placards were posted in the public streets, promising, in case the
author would reveal his name, to grant him not only his life, but a
present of a thousand pistoles; but threatening, in case of his
discovery by any other person, to hang him forthwith, and give the
reward to the informer. The satirist thereupon avowed the authorship and
demanded the money. Sextus, true to the letter of his proclamation,
granted him his life and paid him the one thousand pistoles; but in
utter violation of its spirit, and saying that he had not promised
absolution from all punishment, ordered his hands to be struck off and
his tongue to be bored, ‘to hinder him from being so witty in future.’
“But Pasquin was not silenced even by this cruel revenge, and a short
time after, in reference to the tyranny of Sextus, appeared a caricature
representing the Pope as King Stork devouring the Romans as frogs, with
the motto, ‘_Merito haec patimur_,’ i.e. ‘_Serves us right._’
“Against Urban VIII., the Barberini Pope, whose noble palace was built
out of the quarry of the Colosseum, who tore the bronze plates from the
roof of the Pantheon, to cast into the tasteless _baldacchino_ of St.
Peter’s, and under whose pontificate so many antique buildings were
destroyed, Pasquin uttered the famous saying—
“‘What the barbarians have left undone, the Barberini have done.’
“And on the occasion of Urban’s issuing a bull, excommunicating all
persons who took snuff in the churches at Seville, Pasquin quoted from
Job this passage, ‘Against a leaf driven to and fro by the wind, wilt
thou show thy strength? and wilt thou pursue the light stubble?’
“The ignorant, indolent, profligate Innocent X., with the equally
profligate Donna Olympia Maidalchini, afforded also a target to
Pasquin’s arrows. Of the Pope, he says—
“‘Olympia he loves more than Olympus.’
“During the reign of Innocent XI., the Holy Office flourished, and its
prisons were put in requisition for those who dared to speak freely or
to think freely. Pasquin, in reference to this, says: ‘Se parliamo, in
galera; se scriviamo, impiccati; se stiamo in quiete, al Santo Uffizio.
Eh!—che bisogna fare?’ (If we speak, to the galleys; if we write, to the
gallows; if we keep quiet, to the Inquisition. Eh!—what are we to do?)
“Throughout Rome, the stranger is struck by the constant recurrence of
the inscription, ‘Munificentia Pii Sexti’ (By the munificence of Pius
VI.), on statues and monuments and repaired ruins, and big and little
antiquities. When, therefore, this Pope reduced the loaf of two
_baiocchi_ considerably in size, one of them was found hung on Pasquin’s
neck, with the same inscription, ‘Munificentia Pii Sexti.’
“Against the despotism of this same Pope, when he was building the great
Braschi Palace, Pasquin wrote these lines—
“‘Three jaws had Cerberus, and three mouths as well,
Which barked into the blackest deeps of hell.
Three hungry mouths have you—ay! even four,
Which bark at none, but every one devour.’
“During the French Revolution, and the occupation of Rome by the French,
Pasquin uttered some bitter sayings, and among them this—
“‘I Francesi son tutti ladri—
Non tutti—ma Buona parte.’
(The French are all thieves—nay, not all, but _a good part_—or, in the
original, _Buonaparte_.)
“Here also is one referring to the institution of the Cross of the
Legion of Honour in France, which is admirable in wit—
“‘In times less pleasant and more fierce, of old,
The thieves were hung on crosses, so we’re told;
In times less fierce, more pleasant, like to-day,
Crosses are hung upon the thieves, they say.’
“When the Emperor Francis of Austria visited Rome, Pasquin called him
‘Gaudium urbis—Fletus provinciorum—Risus mundi.’ (The joy of the
city—the tears of the provinces—the laughter of the world.)
“A clever epigram was also made on Canova’s draped statue of Italy—
“‘For once Canova surely has tripped:
Italy is not draped but stripped.’
[Illustration:
EPIGRAM ON CANOVA’S STATUE OF ITALY.
]
“The latter days of Pius IX. have opened a large field for Pasquin, and
his epigrams have a flavour quite equal to that of the best of which we
have any record. When, in 1858, the Pope made a journey through the
provinces of Tuscany, leaving the administration in the hands of
Cardinal Antonelli and other cardinals of the Sacred College, the
following dialogue was found on Pasquin:—
“‘The Shepherd then is gone away?’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘And whom has he left to take care of the flock?’
“‘The dogs.’
“‘And who keeps the dogs?’
“‘The mastiff.’
“The wit of Pasquin, as of all Romans, is never purely verbal, for the
pun, simply as a pun, is little relished in Italy; ordinarily the wit
lies in the thought and image, though sometimes it is expressed by a
play upon words as well, as in the epigram on Buonaparte. The ingenious
method adopted by the Italians to express their political sympathies
with Victor Emmanuel was thoroughly characteristic of Italian humour.
Forbidden by the police to make any public demonstration in his favour,
the Government were surprised by the constant shouts of ‘Viva Verdi!
Viva Verdi!’ at all the theatres, as well as by finding these words
scrawled on all the walls of the city. But they soon discovered that the
cries for Verdi were through no enthusiasm for the composer, but only
because his name was an acrostic signifying
‘VITTORIO EMANUELE, RE D’ ITALIA.’
“Of a similar character was a satire in dialogue, which appeared in
1859, when all the world at Rome was waiting and hoping for the death of
King Bomba, of execrated memory. Pasquin imagines a traveller just
returned from Naples, and inquires of him what he has seen there—
“‘Ho visto un tumore.’ (I have seen a tumour.)
“‘Un tumore? ma che cosa è un tumore?’ (A tumour? but what is a
tumour?)
“‘Leva il _t_ per risposta.’ (Take away the _t_ for answer.)
“‘Ah! un umore; ma questo umore porta danno?’ (Ah! a humour;[31] but
is this humour dangerous?)
“‘Leva l’_u_ per risposta.’ (Take away the _u_.)
“‘More! che peccato! ma quando? Fra breve?’ (He dies (_more_)! but
what a pity! When? Shortly?)
“‘Leva l’_m_.’ (Take away the _m_.)
“‘Ore! fra ore! ma chi dunque ha quest’ umore?’ (Hours! (_ore_) in a
few hours! but who then has this humour?)
“‘Leva l’_o_.’ (Take away the _o_.)
“‘Rè! Il Rè! Ho piacere davvero! Ma poi, dove andrà?’ (King! (_re_)
the king! I am delighted! But then where will he go?)
“‘Leva l’_r_.’ (Take away the _r_.)
“‘E-eh! e-e-e-h!’
with a shrug and a prolonged tone peculiarly Roman—indicative of an
immense doubt as to Paradise, and little question as to the other place.
“Two years ago Pasquin represents himself as having joined the other
plenipotentiaries at the conference of Zurich, where he represents the
Court of Rome. Austria speaks German, France speaks French, neither of
which languages Pasquin understands. On being interrogated as to the
views of Rome, he answers that, being a priest, he only speaks Latin,
not Italian; and that, in his opinion, is ‘Sicut erat in principio,’
etc. (As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world
without end! Amen.)
“This is as pure a specimen of true Roman wit as can be found. Of a
rather different and punning character was the epigram lately made upon
the movement of the Piedmontese and Garibaldians on Naples and Sicily:
‘Tutti stanno in viaggio—soldati vanno per terra—marinari vanno per
mare, e preti vanno in aria.’ (Everybody is in movement—the soldiers go
by land, the sailors by sea, and the priests vanish into air.)
“And here too is another, full of spirit and point, which shall be the
last in these pages. When the conference at Zurich was proposed, it was
rumoured that Cardinal Antonelli was to go as the representative of the
Roman States, and to be accompanied by Monsignor Barile, upon which
Pasquin said, ‘Il Cardinale di Stato va via con Barile, ma tornerà con
fiasco’—which is untranslatable.”[32]
There are several collections of Pasquinades in the British Museum, but
none appear to extend over more than a single year. None are later than
1536. The collection for that year has the following MS. note (in
English) on the fly-leaf: “The Author of these Pasquinades is quite
unknown. They have little of the Petulance or Wit of that species of
writing, and consist principally of grave and fulsome Compliments to the
Emperor Charles 5th on his late Victories over the Moors in Africa.”
There is, however, a humorous prose proclamation in Italian (the rest of
the book is mostly in Latin), “in order to enrich simple men who waste
their time in the practice of Alchemy.” To these persons he delivers ten
commandments, such as, “Always to have a pair of bellows and keep it in
its place, so that you may not have to send and borrow from the
neighbours—to know the properties of metals—to use good earthenware—and
to employ an honest lad who will stick to his work and not talk,” etc.,
etc.
About 1550 we find a curious little broadsheet entitled an “opera,” but
more like a street ballad—a kind of proclamation, announcing that
Pasquin has lost his nose, and is making search for it. In the course of
the next century several prose works were issued under the name of
Pasquin, which were mostly dialogues between Pasquin and Marforio. Many
of them were translated into English, and appear to have enjoyed a wide
popularity towards the end of Charles II.’s reign—which is not to be
wondered at, if we remember that this was the era of the Popish plot,
and that Pasquin is by no means sparing in his denunciations of the
Roman clergy. The _Visione Politiche_ were printed in 1671, probably at
Geneva, and _Pasquin risen from the Dead_ appeared in London in 1674.
This book must have been popular, as at least one other translation was
published. The version of 1674—the translator’s name is not given—is
quaint and spirited; and the general tenor of the work may be gathered
from the following extract:—
_Pasquin._ What, ho! Marforio! you’re in mighty haste, sure; what, not
so much as vouchsafe a word to an old friend, but to pass by as though
we had never seen one another before?
_Marforio._ God’s my life! what’s he that calls me? Sure I have known
that voice. It must certainly be Pasquin that talks in that statue. And
yet how can that be, since I am a witness of his death? ’Tis surely some
ghost that would fain make me believe he is yet living. What would I
give for some holy water to drive this devil away now!
_Pasquin._ Prithee, sweetheart, been’t frighted; I am Pasquin, very
Pasquin, thy old pot-companion. Why shouldst thou wish for holy water to
drive me hence, since I am miraculously risen?... And prithee, by the
way, be no longer cheated with that fond opinion that holy water is able
to drive away devils. Those are old wives’ fables, fit only to bubble
fools withal; for, were there any such thing, since there can be no
worse devil than the priests and friars, they had been all driven out of
the church long ago.
_Marforio._ Where the devil hadst thou this knowledge? Sure, thou hast
not been in hell to fetch it? I am almost in an ague to think of it, and
the more I look on thee the more I tremble.
_Pasquin._ Been’t such a fool to be afraid to look upon a friend, for
true friendship should last even to the other world: but I am no ghost
or goblin, but verily alive; or were I dead (as indeed I have been),
what reason hast thou to fear me? The dead are honest, quiet people:
they neither kill nor steal; they ramble not about the streets in the
night to murder poor tailors; they break no glass windows, nor beat no
watches, nor are any violators of the laws. Whilst I was in the world I
was never afraid of the dead. If I could but guard myself from the
living, who are a proud, revengeful generation, that scarce pardon men
in their graves, I thought all well enough; therefore, prithee, be of my
mind.... Take my counsel, keep as fair as thou canst with the living,
and leave the dead to their fate.
_Marforio._ Yet at least let me have commune with thee, that com’st to
seek mine with so much grace and civility.
_Pasquin._ I am alive and not dead, for my death was rather a wonderful
ecstasy than anything else.
_Marforio._ But tell me, prithee, how is it possible that thou, who art
a body of stone, as thou art, couldst first be animated, then die, and
be revived again?
_Pasquin._ And canst thou that art born a Roman be such a noddy as to
wonder at that—thou that seest daily so many greater wonders before thy
eyes? With how much more reason mayst thou wonder to see so many
tun-bellied friars (the good always excepted) that feed like pigs and
drink like fishes; that fatten themselves in the scoundrel laziness of
the convents, and yet have the impudence to think they shall one day
enjoy the felicities of Paradise? And yet greater wonders than this
there are. For thou knowest, or at least shouldst know, that all divines
agree that there is nothing in the world that can be equal in weight to
the nature of sin; for, say they, iron, lead, stones, brass, or gold
are, in comparison, lighter than feathers when put in the scale with
sin. So that he must needs be worse than a sot that believes that so
many bouncing friars, as well seculars as regulars, who are laden with
such a mass of sins that only to lift one of them from the ground would
require an engine like that wherewith Sixtus V. raised the great Pyramid
of St. Peter,[33] can ever mount up to heaven.... This, brother, must
needs be so great a folly that any man of reason cannot but imagine it a
less wonder to see a stone mount up to heaven than one of those sinful
monks.
Pasquin then describes his journey through the Unseen World, which is
made the vehicle for a great deal of strong invective against the Pope
and Clergy. No Pope, he says, has ever entered heaven since the year
800, “that is, soon after corruption was crept into the Pontificate;”
and the infernal regions are peopled with the various religious orders.
Pasquin sought in vain among them for the Jesuits—but only because a
separate and special place of torment was reserved for the latter.
_EPIGRAMS._
I do not please all my readers?—But see,——
Is it every reader that pleases me?——
The tolling of church-bells, O Doctor Ismenus,—dost find it a bore?
Write no more prescriptions, O Doctor, and then they will toll no more!
Here lies a cardinal
Who did more ill than good.
The good he did badly,
The ill as well as he could.
A monk to a dying sinner said, “Beware!
Just now, as I was coming up the stair,
I saw the devil come for you——” “But stay,—
What shape had he?” “An ass.” “Good father, nay!—
It was your shadow frightened you to-day!”
Professor Ardei’s ashes in this urn
Repose. Dame Nature intended him to teach——
So he was never able aught to learn.
Gian Maria’s ill-conditioned wife
Was bitten by a viper yester-eve.
“Then, I suppose, she’s yielded up her life?”
“No, sir—that ’twas the viper died, I grieve!”
“The abbey has been struck by lightning.” “Where?”
“’Twas in the library.” “Thank heaven’s care!——
The friars, holy men!—uninjured are!”——
_PROVERBS, FOLK-LORE, AND TRADITIONAL ANECDOTES._
[Illustration]
Don’t lend your knife in pumpkin-time.
Do not ask the host whether his wine is good.
All the brains are not in one head.
Pride went out on horseback, and came home afoot.
Heaven keep you from a bad neighbour, and from a man who is learning the
violin.
Better to be a lizard’s head than a dragon’s tail.
Drink wine, and let water go to drive the mill.
If I sleep, I sleep for myself; if I work, I don’t know whom I work for.
Let us have florins, and we shall find cousins.
Peel the fig for your friend and the peach for your enemy.[34]
In buying a horse and taking a wife, shut your eyes and trust God for
your life.
Women are saints in church, angels in the street, devils in the house,
owls (_civette_, _i.e. coquettes_) at the window, and magpies at the
door.
Women always tell the truth, but never the whole truth.
Maids weep with one eye, wives with two, and nuns with four.
When God gives flour, the devil takes away the sack.
Have nothing to do with an innkeeper’s daughter or a miller’s horse.
[Illustration]
He who wants canes should go to the cane-brake; and he who would court
the daughter should be polite to the mother.
For the buyer a hundred eyes are too few, for the seller one is enough.
If you want to have your hands full buy a watch, take a wife, or beat a
friar.
God keep thee from the fury of the wind, from a monk outside his
monastery, from a woman who can speak Latin, and from a man who cannot
hold up his head.
Brother Modestus was never made Prior.
Tie up the ass where his owner tells you, and if he breaks his neck the
blame is not yours.
You cannot drink and whistle at the same time; you cannot both carry the
cross and sing with the choir.
An unfrocked monk and warmed-up cabbage were never yet good for
anything.
There are no pockets in the shroud.
Where there are many cocks crowing it never gets light.
He carries both yes and no in his pocket.
Three are powerful—the Pope, the king, and the man who has nothing.
Make me your steward for one year, and I shall be a rich man.
Never give a woman as much as she wants—unless it be of flax to spin.
All the seven deadly sins are feminine.
Lies have short legs.
With time and straw medlars get ripe.
Beware of fire, of water, of dogs, and of the man who speaks under his
breath.
The poor man’s commandments are these—Thou shalt not eat meat on Friday,
nor on Saturday, nor yet on Sunday.
He who seeks better bread than is made of wheat must be either a fool or
a knave.
He who sleeps with dogs will get up with fleas.
He who eats a bone chokes himself.
Bread and kicks will get no thanks, even from a dog.
Make haste and get rich—and then I am your uncle.
You call on St. Paul without having seen the viper. (You cry out before
you are hurt.)
When two have set their minds on each other, a hundred cannot keep them
apart.
On a fool’s beard the barber learns to shave.