ililiiiiiliili mmmmmm' ;■ jK^^ f ^ ' U- IS ISU Twi Jkji^y^ "^''"'T^nN S^ \z:i I \ Zli^ '•mm- V.LUJA, /irt Alf^ Vt-) Vt-^ ii^l. '^.-'ifi^n "^tV.lj^^ I oil If f% '■^a, ■■ ^j^" .rA /•> ^// ■ W- y JE^X ..#• A ^Mr'-""'"""H"'"" ' --"i- '/f'r// I . A. 1 riii>''jju„,nflx.hi/ fidwfflarAnq SS.Pat/Ma/l. , ■S-T^Lt-^, HISTORICAL MExMOIR OM ITALIAN TRAGEDY, FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE PRESENT TIME: i L L U S T R A T E n W 1 r H SPECIMENS yJND ANALYSES OF THE MOST CELEBRATED TRAGEDIES; AND INTERSTERSUD WITH OCCASIONAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE ITALIAN THEATRES; I A %■ ;i BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF rilEPRINCIPAL TRAGIC WRITERS ITALY. ..»■•» ■■i«^ .(1^ ,^t ^~ C><" <■•(■• ' BY A MEMBER OF THE ARCADIAN ACADEMY OF ROME. Klontion : PUINTED FOR E. HARDING, NO. 98, 1'ALL-J.rST.L. 1799- Les Italiens fiiient les premiers qui eleverent de grands theatres, et qui donnerent au mondt quelque idee de cette splendeur de Tancienne Grece, qui attirait les nations etrangeres a ses solemnites, et qui fut le modele des peuples en tous les genres, Voltaire. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, L AVI N I A, COUNTESS SPENCER. EUBANTE TIRINZIO. It cannot excite wonder, that the " tablet starting" into existence, and notes that " lift the soul on seraph wings," should tempt an ardent admirer of the elegant arts to enter the bowers of Wimbledon. Let me, however. Madam, en- treat your pardon for this intrusion; and, while I bend at the shrine of wit and beauty, permit me to lay this humble offering at your feet. M DCC XC VIIL sasii^iO PREFACE. JCjARLY enamoured of the literature of Italy, h was, during many years, my solace amidst the corrosive cares of life. An opportunity of vifaing the classic shores of that enchanting clime occurring, I availed myfelf of it, and returned a more enthusiastic admirer, if possible, of the effusions of the Italian muse. Soon after my arrival in my native country, ill-health obliged me to retire from "the busy hum of men," and I funk into rural seclusion in a verdant valley, watered by a wind- ing river, at the foot of a range of lofty mountains. Here I fummoned around me the swans of the Po and the Arno, and, while I liftened to their mellifluous strains, time passed me with an inaudible step. But though I no longer sighed after the society which I had abandoned, I felt an ardent desire to increase its stock of harmless pleasures. With this view the present work was undertaken. Discovering in Italian tragedy, a rich mine of intellectual wealth, hitherto almofi: totally un- explored by my countrymen, I determined, however ill-qualified I might be, to endeavour to dire£l their notice to this literary treasure. If they should not find me an intelligent guide, they will, I trust, have no reason to accuse me of intentionally leading them astray. In taste and judgment 1 may often fail j but in truth of representation I flatter myself I shall be generally found scrupulously correct. Fortunate in my researches, my collcflion of Italian tragedies is not inconfiderable -, and. vi • PREFACE. knd,- following the advice of Prior, I invariably made it a point to read before I wrote. I do not, however, pretend to have read, or to be in possession of all the dramas which I enumerate (though there are, indeed, few of them which I do not possess, and have not inspected) ; but as I was in no haste to appear before the tribunal of the public, I not only carefully consulted, but freely laid under contribution, all the beft bibliothecal authorities and moft impartial dramatic critics, within my reach. This occafioned fuch a copious flow of matter, that had I not firmly refolved to adhere to my original idea of giving only a slight memoir, I should, perhaps, have deemed it necessary to apologise for the bulk of my volume. The firft plan of this work was circumfcribed within the humble limits of a Catalogue raisonne. But a little reflection taught me to believe, that the dry, insipid nature of a catalogue would rather deter, than invite readers. This induced me to extend my purposed bounds, and, by the introduction of biographical notices of dramatic writers, to give a flexi- bility to my outline, which would enable me to embrace such objects of taste and curiosity as might occur in my progress through the extenfive fields of Italian literature. Indeed, the title which my work now assumes, seems to warrant this departure from my original plan. " Quand on ecrit des memoires," says the Abbe de Sade, " on a les toudces plus franches; on pent faire de petites excursions, appuycr sur quelques details, saisir certains objets qui paroissent ctrangers, et qui n'entreroient pas dans unehistoire faite avec soin." My firfl: object was certainly the Itahan reader; but I trust that the mere English reader will find I have not been totally regardless of his amusement or information. Had I been more prodigal of translation, his disappointment would, perhaps, have been less frequent ; but I am not certain that his pleasure would have been proportionably in- creased, as all the specimens most necessary for illustration, or richest in poetic beauties, are translated, and, though Italian quotations fre- quently PREFACE. v;i qiiently occur in the text, the chain of the English narrative is seldom broken. Despising an ostentatious display of rcaling, I have presers'ed my margin as free as possible, from the cumbrous pomp of reference. In tracing the rise and progress of any nrt, attention to dates is, how- ever, indispensably necessary: I shall not therefore, I hope, be tho'ight too anxiously exact in regard to titles and colophons. Had not the state of the political world impeded the epistolary in- tercourse with the continent, I should probably have had many obliga- tions to acknowledge to my Italian friends. Their aid, nevertheless, has not been wanting. Amongst those to whom I feci myself pe- culiarly indebted, I name with pride and gratitude, Signor Pietro Napoli-Signorelli of Naples, the Abate Melchior Cesarotti of Padua, and Prince Giacomo Giustiniani, late governor of Perugia. For valuable accessions to my hoard of Italian dramas, and exer- tions to promote my undertaking, I am infinitely obliged to my friend Robert W. Wade, Esq. of Knlghtsbridgc; AI. R. I. A. to John Pinkcrton, Esq. the profound historian of Scotland; and io Major William Ouseley, whose success in oriental pursuits has al- ready raised him to literary eminence. Indulged with the unrestricted use of a spirited translation of the Abate Monti's tragedies, by the admirable translator of the Inferno of Dante, I have enriched my memoir with copious extracts from that as yet, inedited work. And when the reader shall have pe- rused the translation, by the same hand, of the choruses from the Acri- panda and Alcina, and of a few passages from other Italian dramas in- terspersed through these pages, he will, 1 am sure, regret that my poetical obligations to my inestimable friend, the Rev. Mr. Boyd, are not more abundant. " When a man writes," says a French author, " he ought to ani- mate himself with the thoughts of pleasing all the world ; but he is to viii PREFACE. to renounce that "hope, the very moment the book goes out of his hands." I never cherished the hopes, but I certainly suffer all the apprehensions of the French author. My motive for undertaking this work, I have already declared. Fame was not my object: in my rural seclusion, in an island divisa dal mondo, her sweet voice could not sooth me. I do not say this to deprecate criticism; it is rather my wish to invite it: for should this Memoir ever reach another edition, my ambition would be, to render it less unworthy the public eye. JOSEPH COOPER WALKER. St. VaUri, August 6, 17^8. />. HISTORICAL MEMOIR ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY, INTRODUCTION. The elegant arts lay buried under the ruins of the majestic INTROD. fabric of the Roman empire until the beginning of the twelfth "^"^ century. Soothed by the voice of peace, and no longer dread- ing the sword of the spoiler, then, and not sooner, did they venture to raise their heads. Those faculties of the human mind which have beauty and elegance for their objects, now began to unfold themselves; and soon after they were brought into action, they emploved their powers upon the dramatic art. So early as the year 1304, (i) Vasari describes an at- B tempt s HISTORICAL MEMOIR INTROD. tempt at a dramatic exhibition in Florence(fl) ; but neither "" Crescimbeni, nor Tiraboschi, will allow the revival of the dramatic art in Italy to commence with that feeble essay.(6) They date, more properly, its revival from the appearance of the Achilleis and the Eccerinis, two Latin tragedies on the model of Seneca, by the learned Albertino Mussato, of Padua, who died in exile, amongst the fens of Venice, in the year 1329, at (a) Vite ie' Pitteriy torn. i. /. 38^;. This exhibition, at which we find the spectators embarking For the fiery gulph of hell, is fully described by Ammirato, whose words I shall transcribe. " Mentre secondo I'usanza delle fcsle, che si solevano celebrare a kalen di maggio quelli di borgo san Friano (in Flo- rence) con pazza invenzione promettono per il lor bandltone di dar novelle dell' altro mondo a chi si fosse ragiuiato in sul ponte alia Carraia, il popolo in tanta calca vi trasse a vedere, stu- pido in mirare i lavoraii fuochi, e la spaventosa immagine dell' inferno, et quelli che in iigura d' anime ignude a contrafatti demonii erano compartiti, e in udire le grandissime grida, e urli che giitavano per le diverse pene et martirii, a quali pareano condannati, cose tutte rap- prcsentate sopra bardie, tx navicelli, che erano nel fiurae, che il ponte, che in quel tempo eta di legname, non potendo regger, al gran peso che sostenta, cadde con tutta la gente ch' v' era sopra, et molti vi morirono, parte annegati nel fiume, et parte oppressi da coloro, che erano ultinii a cadcre, de quali pochi furono quegli, che scamparono la mortc, che guasti d' alcun membro o storpiati non rimanessero." 1st. Fior. ed, 1600, p. 168. This exhibition reminds Mr. Roscoe of the harrowing of hell mentioried by Chaucer. Lr/e of Lorenzo de' Medici, •vol. i. /'. 229. And it is said by Denina, to have given birth to the Comn.edia of Dante. Vkende dtlla Lettiratura Parte 1, Sez. 10. Ed. Vcuez, 1 788. (b) Had not Petrarch first withheld from the public, and afterwards destroyed his Filologia, he would probably be numbered with those, to whom the revival of the drama in Italy is ascribed. The abbe de Sade mentions two dramatic compositions, still existing in the Lau- rentian library, which are supposed to have been written by Pctrarca. Mem. four la -vie (te Pilrarj, torn. iii. /. 458. the ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 3 the advanced age of seventy. (c) This opinion is also sup- IKTIWD. ported by the respectable authority of the marquis Maffei, in ^^~ the elegant and ingenious discourse prefixed to his Teatro Ita- liano. For the latter of these tragedies, (the Eccerinis) Mus- sato was honoured with a laurel crown by the bishop of Padua, who, at the same time, issued an edict, that, on every Christ- mas-day, the doctors, regents, and professors of the two col- leges in that city, should go to his house in solemn procession, with wax tapers in their hands, and offer him a triple crown. (rf) From an analysis of tliis tragedy given by Signor Signorelli, in his Storia critica de' Teatri antichi e moderni, it appears, that it is divided into five acts, each of which is concluded with a chorus. And it furtlier appears, that though the mind ■ of Mussato teemed with classic lore, he neglected the unities: " I'azione," says my author, " non e una; il tempo basterebbe ( c ) Chiozza was the place of Mussato's banishment. This little city, which lies three miles from Broiidolo, and thirteen from Venice, is allowed by De la Lande, to be «' assez agreable." The cathedral is a beautiful edifice ; and comir odious porticoes extend along each side of the principal streets. Here, while the venerable patriot beguiled his time in revising his historical works, fancy may suppose him occasionally turning a tearful eye to iiis native Padua, or extending his view over that city to the towering boundary of the Alps, and losing himself, in imagination, amongst the rocks and the forests, the snows and the torrents of those majestic mountains. ( d ) This circumstance is mentioned by Tirabaschi, who has collected with care, and related with perspicuity, all the principal events of Mussato's life- Vide Sior. delta Let. fial. torn. V. lib. ii. cap. 6. See also an elegant little work entitled A Skclch of tin Lhjes andWriiivgi tf Dante and Petrarch, Loud. 1790. /. 93. per B 2 4 HISTORICAL MEMOIR INTROD. per un lungo poema epico."(^) Beauties, however, it has, ^ and amongst these Signorelli reckons a lively picture of the human passions. But in a period so partially enlightened as the fourteenth centur}^ Mussato's powers in moving, or deli- neating the passions could not have been generally felt, or en- joyed ; for the language in which his tragedies are written, veiled all their beauties from the vulgar eye.(/) Still, there- fore, mysteries or moralities, performed either by the clergy, or under their direction, were the only dramatic amusements with which the people were indulged ; and these rude exhibi- tions were generally represented in dumb show, with figures of wood, wax, or hoematites, like the conversion of Saint Paul by Girolamo Genga;(^) or by men dressed grotesquely characteristic. Struck with the absurdity of this practice, Lorenzo de' Medici secretly meditated a reform in the Italian ( e ) Tiraboschi having observed, that the tragedies of Mussato are written on the model ' of Seneca, significantly adds, " ma un cattivo originale non poiea fare che una piu cattiva copia." ( f ) It is observed by the abbe de Sade, that the reason which determined Dante and Petrarca " a composer en langue vulgaire," was the disuse of Latin in conversation ; " n'eroit plu^" says he, " entenduc que des s^avans, et ils vouloient etrc.entendus de tout le monde." torn. i. p. 74. ( g ) Vasari relates, that while Genga resiJc-l in Valli, a village near Urbino, " per non " star in ozio, fece di matita una conversione di S. Paolo con figure, e cavalli assai ben gran- " di, e con bellissime atiitudini," icm. v. p. 223. II Cecca, a famous Florentine engineer, who died in 1499, excelled in designing such representations. Nor has the practice yet totally ceased in Italy : several instances met my own observation. The presepe, which isstill ex- hibited at Naples, may be denominated a mute mystery. It is a representation of the birth of our Saviour with all the concomitant circumstances. drama. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 5 drama, while he sanctioned, from policy, the representations INTROU. which he despised. (/j) A favourable opportunit}' of carrying his plan into execution occurring, he availed himself of it. On the marriage ( 1488) of his daughter Maddalena to Fran- cesco Cibo, nephew of Innocent VIII. instead of the exhibi- tions usual, in those times, upon such occasions, he had a rappresentazione or sacred drama, written by himself, entitled San Giovanni e San Paolo, performed by his own children, in his house at Florence. The heroes of this piece are two eunuchs, attendant on the daughter of Constantine the great, who are put to death by Julian the apostate, for their adhe- rence to the christian religion. This little drama, calculated as well to edify as to amuse, is sprinkled with moral and politi- cal precepts. But Lorenzo did not stop here. He waged war with the saints, angels and devils, who had long infested the Italian stage. " Amongst the poems published at the close of the present work," says his elegant biographer, " will be found an attempt to substitute the deities of Greece and Rome, for the saints and martyrs of the christian church, (/) but the jealous { ^ ) 1 allude to the public spectacle exhibited in the church of Spirito Santo in Florence, during the visit of'Galeazzo Sforza, duke of Milan, in 147 i. See Hifl. Fior. f. 276. ed. 1550. ( /■ ) See. Amori di Ventre, e Marie, an unfiiii.hed poem, partaking of the nature of a masque, subjoined to the second volume of Mr. Roscoe's Z.j^j' 0;^ Z.u»«/2« de Medici. The chief object of Lorenzo in this little piece, seems to be the correction of a crime still too pre- valent in Italy — iifidclity to the marriage-bed, Apollo, on detecting Mars and Venus in amorous dalliance, exclaims, Ingiuria 6 HISTORICAL MEMOIR INTROD. jealous temper of the national religion seems, for a time, to "* have restrained the progress, which might otherwise have been expected in this department of letters." Some years after the death of Lorenzo, continues our author, " a more decided effort was made by Bernardo Accolti, in his drama of Virgi- nia, founded on one of the novels of Boccaccio/' (A') Pre- fixed Ingiurla e grande al letto romper fede ; Non sia chi pecchi, e di chi' 1 sapra mai ? Che '1 sol, le stelle, el ciel, la luna il vede. But the amiable author defeats, in a great degree, his own purpose by the manner in which he makes his heroine prepare for the reception of her lover, and by the lascivious warmth with which her invitation glows. Marte, se oscure ancor ti paron Tore, Vienne al meo dolce ospizio, ch' io t' aspetto ; Vulcan non v'e che ci disturbi araore. Vien, ch" io t' invito Non iudugiar, ch' el tempo passa, e vola, Coperto m' ho di fior vermigli il petto. (/) Accolti is honourably noticed by Ariosto, Furios. cont. xlvi. j/. lo. and by Castiglione, Corirg. p. IO. Lym. 1553. The Qran;a to which Mr. Roscoe attributes so happy an effect, was first represented in Sienna, at the marriage of Antonio Spannocchi. The title of this piece is a singular monument of paternal affection; — Virginia was the name of a beloved daughter of the author! Both Riccoboni and Baretti have erroneously registered, in their respective catalogues, the edition of this drama, printed in Venice, 1553, as the first. Hist. d:i tkal. Iial. loin. I. p. 1S5. Ilal. lib. p. 1 1 5. It was first printed in Florence, 151 8, with " capitoli e strambocti" of the author, subjoined. As this edition is very rare, 1 (ball "ivc the full title: Comedia del preclarissimo mcsser Bernardo Accolli Arttino: scriplore apostolico et ab- ' brivialore : rccilata nelle noze del magnifco Antonio Spannocchi : nella inclyta cipla di Siena. At the end we read: Finita la comedia: et capitoli : et strambocti di messcr Bernardo Accolti Aretino. Siampata in Firenze. anno MD XVIIL Riccoboni falls into another error in regard to this drama. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. fixed to the first edition of this drama, the argument is given INTROD. in the following SONETTO. Virginia amando, el re guarisce, e chiede Di Salerno el gran principe in marito, Qual costrecto a sposarla, e poi partito Per mai tornar fin lei viva si vede. Cercha Virginia scrivendo mercede. Ma el principe. da molta ira assalito, Li domanda, sa lei vuol sia redito, Dua condition, qual impossibil crede. Pcro Virginia sola, e travestita, Partendo ogni impossibil conditione Adempie al fin con prudentia infinita. Onde el principe pien d'ammiratione Lei di favore, e grazia rivestita Sposa di nuovo con molta afFetione. drama : he says it is in prose. Had he inspected the work, he would have found that it is in ottava rima. The stanza with which the second act is opened, shall serve as a specimen. Dura profana abhorrita fortuna ; mai contenta star ferma in uno stato tu sempre giri con rota importuna el basso elevi, et lalto hai ruinato. Et Ihuom che justo seiiza causa alchuna pcrsegui : & quel che injusto fai beato ne morte o prcgo in te pietate arreca pero chiamata sei fallace ct cieca. However $ HSTORICAL MEMOIR P^^^ However imperfect this piece may be, it probably assisted in promoting a revolution in the state of the Italian drama, which led to its melioration. r k Xv HISTORICAL MEMOIR ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. SECTION I. MD. ■ MDC. It may, perhaps, be thought, from the nature of my under- SECT. taking, that I should have commenced with the Sofonisba of . ' , Galeotto del Carretto, Marquis of Savona, which was pre- sented, by the author, to Isabella d' Este Gonzaga, Marchio- ness of Mantua, in the year 1502, and which Signer Signo- relli says, *' fu la prima tragedia scritta nel nostro volgare idioma." But though it should be admitted, that the Sofo- C nisba ,o HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, nisba of Galeotto was the first tragedy written in the Italian ^^ language, it ought to be observed, that it probably owed its birth to the success of Mussato in the same department of li- terature, or to the author's knowledge of the meditated inno- vation of Lorenzo de' Medici ; and it is the business of his- tory, however humbly employed, to push her enquiries to the fountain head. But though SignorSignorelli opens his account of the rise and progress of Italian tragedy with this drama, he seems to hesitate, afterwards, in regard to its right to the honorable distinction which he bestows upon it. " E verseggiata," says he, " in ottava rimaed ha qualche debolezza e varj difetti, ma non e pero indegna di esser chiamata tragedia." Angelo In- gegneri(a) speaks less favourably of this drama. The scene, he observes, is shifted from Carthage to Rome, and from Rome to Egypt, with a magic celerity ; and the fable, he adds, is divided into fifteen or twenty acts, with " una rarita d' esem- pio maravigliosa." But the author of the Parnaso Espan- olo would expunge this piece from the list of Italian trage- dies, contemptuously denominating it, a species of allegorical dialogue. Without attempting to reconcile those jarring opinions, or to determine the class of dramas to which this piece properly belongs, I shall proceed to observe, on the au- thority of Signor Signorelli, that a few years after it was pre- ( a ) Difcfoet, rappre/ent, p.^^t sented ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY.' i^ sented to Isabella, it was printed in Venice, {b) with the SEC7\ Palazzo e Tempio d' Amore, (t) a comedy, by the same au- ____, thor. Though Galeotto del Carretto has little claim to our admi- ration or regard, as a tragic poet, lie shares our esteem and respect; and we follow him with pleasure to his castle of Finaro, at the foot of the Appenines, in the fertile plains of Piedmont. After sheltering himself, for some time, from the storms of faction, in the court of Guglielmo, Marquis of Mon- ferrato, he retired to this castle to indulge in "letter'd ease." And here he died in 1530. Befidcs the works already men- tioned, Galeotto wrote two comedies, entitled, LeNozzedi Psiche e di Cupidine, and I sei contenti: he also publisiied occasional Rime. The Sofonisba of Galeotto was succeeded, in the year ijo8,(<'/) by la Pamphila of Antonio da Pistoia, a tragedy founded ( b ) Sror. de tent. torn. iii. p, 103. It is to be rfgretteJ thit Signor Signorelli doss not mention ilie particular edition to which he alludes. Theeailiest that has met my observation, is that of GiJitri, i ;+6. If this drama «as, at any time, published with the Tempio d'.Amore» it must have been sub:equent to the year 1 524, as the first cdiiioa of that cofflcdy appeared at Venice in that year, {per Nkalo Zopino), without the Sofonif.ba, ( (• ) This comedy is wriuen in various measures, and crowded with for^ ,t>vD interlocu- tors ! The frontispiece to the first edition [Ven. i 524), is a wooden print of a cojicert, con* ■ sisiing of eight performers, each of whom plays on a different instrument. . ( d ) Ven, per Manfndo Bona de Montefcrmto, Another edition was published in Ven. per Mihhion Sessa, 1516. And Crescimbeni notices a third in Ven. per Zorz.i di Ruscofii, i ji8. The two first lie before me; but 1 have never seen the third. The Pamphila is not noticsd fiiherby Fontanini, Rjccoboni, or Earetii; and, though Crescimbeni mentions the title, hi C2 e seems 12 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, founded upon the story of Gismonda and Guiscardo. In this . ^ , rude drama, the fable and all the incidents of Boccaccio's novel(e) are closely followed ; but the scene is shifted from Salerno to Thebes, and Greek names are given to the dramatis persona?. The author, who seems to have had some regard to the Greek model, (/) neither strictly observes, nor grossly violates the unities. And, at the end of each a<5l, a chorus appears; but as it neither takes a part in the dialogue, nor always consists of the same persons, we may conclude it was not stationary. In the first chorus, beginning Ogni cosa vince amore, the god of love is introduced, boasting of the wonderful effects of his potent art ; four syrens form the second ; the three fates take a part in the third; and the fourth is led by Atropos. In the choruses the measure is not uniform ; but the argument, and all the dialogue of the drama, are clothed in terza rima. The following scene from the fifth a6l, will afford the reader an idea of the author's style and manner. seems to have been ignorant of the subject ; for he asserts, that Girolamo Razzi was the first " atrattarlo tragicamentc," in his Gismonda, which did not appear till 1569. ( e ) Decam. Giorn. iv. AW. I. Di;e praise is bestowed on this affecting story in Novella di Af. iL/5«rtr the members of the Olympic academy, iramediately after the performance, resolved, that their dramatic representations should totally cease, or be, for awhile, suspended. But it appears from a volume of inedited minutes of this academy, in the possession of PierfiUippo Castelli, that at a meeting held on the loth of August, 1 579, it was determined to revive the dramatic exercises of the academy, and to be- gin with " una favola pastorale," which " sia recitata publicamente con quella minor spesa> che sia possibile," gedy ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. rj^ gcdy is written in verso sciolto, and the autiior, following the SECT. Greek model, conducts his plot with great simplicity, only in-, '■ terrupting the course of the action with the odes, and occa- sional observations of a moralizing chorus. Amongst the many passages justly entitled to admiration in this drama, the scene between Sophonisba and Erminia, after the former drains the fatal bowl, stands pre-eminent. " Un cuore non indurito *' da' pregiudizj, versera pietose lagrime," says an Italian critic, " al racconto del veleno preso dalla regina, a' di lei discorsi, " alia compassionevole contesa con Erminia, ed al quadro delle " donne affolate intorno aSofonisba che trapassa, di Erminia *' che la sostiene e del figliuolino che bacia la madre la quale " inutilmente si sforza per vederlo I'ultima volta sul punto di " s^'w'^re." (b) But the reader shall have an opportunity of de- ( h ) Smr. de teat, torn, iii. /, io6. Jacope Castellini, a contemporarjr of Trissino, has also made Carthage the scene of a traged)'. But his Asdrubale is infinitely inferior to the Sofonisba, in every point of view. It is a feeble production, — a production in which we rarely discover a sciniillation of genius. In order to produce his catastrophe, the author em- ploys the agency of fire. The wife of Asdrubale, Con quel pensier che venne al 'infelice Sofonisba figliastra sua gia morta, Di non volere esser mcnata a Roma Prigiona dietr' al trionfo, -precipitiites herself and her child into the flames, which are preying on th.e city of Carthage, and both are supposed to be consumed in the presence of the aiu'.iencc. This tiagcdy, which was printed in Florence, 1562, appfeao L. Tomtit, is dedicated to Francesco de' Medid, and .embellished wjth a view ©f the city of Carthage. -^ : , , D ciding -i8 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, ciding on the merits of tliis admired passage for himself: a V ' . passage to which it would be equally vain and presumptuous to attempt to do justice in a translation. Sof. A chc piangete ? non sapete ancora Che ciojche nasce, a morte si destina? Cor. Ahime! che questa e pur troppo per tempo; Ch' ancor non siete nel vigesim' anno. So/. II bene esser non puo troppo per tempo. Erm. Che duro bene e quel, che ci distrugge! So/. Accostatevi a me, voglio appoggiarmi; Ch' io mi sento mancare, e gia la notte Tenebrosa ne vien negli occhi miei. Erm. Appoggiatevi pur sopra' 1 m.io petto. So/. O figlio mio, tu non avrai piu madre ; Ella gia se ne va, statti con Dio. Erm. Dime ! che cosa dolorosa ascolto ! Non ci lasciate ancor, non ci lasciate. So/ I'non posso far altro; e sono in via. Erm. Alzate il viso a questo, che vi bacia. Cor. Riguardatelo un poco. So/ Aime! non posso. Cor. Dio vi raccolga in pace. So/ Io vado .... addio. The reader whose tears would not be " taught to flow" on perusing this passage, must, indeed, have an heart " indurito da' pregiudizj." As a further specimen of this celebrated tra- gedy, I shall transcribe a beautiful ode to love, in the third act* ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. J9 a6l,(/) and subjoin the free and spirited translation of a SECT. friend. , Amor, che ne i leggiadri alti pensieri Sovente alberghi, e reggi quella parte; Da cui non ti diparte Rugosa fronte, e pel canuto, e bianco; Poi si dolci lacciuoi, con si bell' arte Poni d' intorno a quel, che son piu fieri, Che porgon volentieri A le feroci tue saette il fianco; Ogni valore al tuo contrasto e manco. Ne solamente a gli uomini mortaii Ti fai sentir, ma su nel ciel trappassi, E r arroganza abbassi De' maggior dei con li dorati strali ; E piante, et animali, E cio che vive, cede a la tua forza ; Che ne la resistenzia si rinforza. La tua piu vaga, e pivi soave stanza E ne' begli occhi de le donne belle ; Ivi le tue facelle Accendi. e d' indi la tua fiamma e sorta. E come i naviganti per le stelle, ( /■ ) I follow the division of the Marquis MafFei, who, in his Teatro Italiano, gives the «• mode di recitare" this tragedy which was followed in Verona, In the original drama tliere are no divisions, cither of acts or scenes. D2 Che /. «6 SECT. J. HISTORICAL MEMOIR Che son d' intorno al polo, hanno baldanza, Che la, ov' e lor speranza, Potranno andar con quella altera scorta i Cosi la gente presa siconforta," ''""^ ' E spera ogni suo ben da que' bei lumi, Che renfiammaro; end' or ne trae diletto. Or lacrime, or sospetto, Secondo il variar d' altrui costumi. Ben par, che si consumi, Se poi gli e tolto quel, che la distruggej Onde' 1 mal segue, e' 1 ben paventa, e fugge.. ODE TO LOVE, When in the generous breast you hide. And o'er the mounting thought preside,. Imperious Love! not stealing time Can lure you from the throne sublime j Nor furrow'd cheeks, nor locks of snow. Can force you to forego Your deathless hold. The heavenly snare With such consummate care 'Round your obedient slaves you lay. Who, to your welcome sway. Fondly extend their suppliant arms, And melt to soft alarms ; Baring their bosoms to the blow^, They court thy bended bow. Heroes ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. »* Heroes in vain thy prowess dare : All that rove this vale of anguish. Learn to love and learn to langnifli; And, even the immortal gods the soft contagion bharc. The tenants of the grove, Nay, woods and wilds themselves submit to love. All that live thy laws obey, And rebells biit extend thy far-subduing sway. But, in that resistless glance Shedding soft delicious trance Thro' the soul, in amorous pain, Cupid! most thou lov'st to reign. Hence thou stealst thy heavenly fire Which the slaves of young desire Follovi^, like the leading star,. Which the seaman hails afar Near the pole,. with ceaseless round Circling thro' the blue profound: Hope illumes their weary way, Hope, the distant prize to gain. Hovering, with unclouded ray. Where thou leadst the amorous train. From those eyes, the founts of pleasure. Bliss unfading without measure, Joys, from earthly dregs refin'd. Still the.Iover hopes to find: Now, varying to the glance of scorn. They swell the heart with woe j Now £2 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Now rage, of pale suspicion born. Contracts his alter'd brow. And, if the beauteous phantom flies, (His plague in transports sweet disguise,) The hapless victim pines away. In mournfal dreams by night, with wasting sighs by day. It'now remains to notice a fine stroke of nature in the con- cluding scene of this tragedy. Sophonisba, perceiving the approach of death, entreats forgiveness of her attendants for any neglect of duty towards them, of which she might have been guilty. O donne mie. Quest' e I' ultima di, ch' i' abbia a vedervij Restate in pace; e chiedovi perdono, Se mai fatto v'avvessi alcuna ofFesa. O my virgins. We ne'er shall meet again ! Behold the day. The awful day, on which my weary soul Shall wing its passage to the lucid realms Of endless bliss. Be your's eternal peace! And if I e'er have fail'd in duteous love. Forgive it, and receive my laft embrace. We find the lovely and unfortunate Queen of Scots ad- dressing the same request to her weeping train the night previous to her execution. " At supper," says Dr. Robertson, " she ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 23 " she ate temperately as usual, and conversed not only with SECT. " ease' but with cheerfulness; she drank to every one of her . " servants, and asked forj^iveness, if ever she had failed in any "part of her duty towards them."(y) It is not to be wondered at, that a tragedy thus rich in happy strokes of nature and of art, should have been frequently imitated and translated. Nor did it long remain unknown or unnoticed: its expanding fame, crossing the Alps, soon found its way into France. A translation, and an imitation, in the language of that country, are mentioned by Riccoboni in his Reflexions historiques et critiques surles differens the- atres de 1' Europe. (^) " Sophonisbe de Claude Mermet, tra- duit de Trissino, 3584. La Carthaginoise de Montchretien, dont le canevas, et les scenes sont les memes que celles de Trissino, 1619." Mellin de St. Gelais, the first artificer of the French sonnet, also made a prose translation of this tragedy; but " vi fece i cori in versi," says Sig. Signorelli, in a letter lying before me, " perche destinati a cantarsi."(/) And, ac- cording to Voltaire, it was from the Sofonisba of Trissino that the French learned the dramatic rules. " Un auteur nom- " me Mairet," says he, " futle premier qui en imitant la Sopho- [j ) Hi^. of Scot. 'vol. Vl.p. 147. Lend. 1760. ( k ) Amsterd. 1 740. /. 94. ( / ) An entremet performed between the acts of St. Gelai's version of this tragedy, when it was represented (1559) at Blois, in the presence of Henry II, is given in the Appendix No. II. *' nisbe 24 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. " nisbe da Trissino, introduisit la regie des trois unites."(m) . • . This tragedy was first published in Rome, in the year 1524. («) But we must not dismiss the father of Italian tragedy witli the bare mention of his name : he has a just claim to our par- ticular notice. Giovan Giorgio Trissino, descended from a long line of il- lustrious ancestors, was born in Vicenza, in the year 1478. His father, a colonel in the service of the republic of Venice, dying (0) before his son had reached his ninth year, the care of his education devolved on his mother, a Veronese of the family of Bevilacqua. This lady, remarkable for her virtues and accomplishments, did not fail in the attention due to so important a charge. After an elementary course, conducted by Francesco di Gragnuola, she sent our author, at a tender age, to Milan, for the purpose of studying Greek, under De- metrio Calcondila, a learned Athenian, of whom he makes honourable mention in his Italia Liberata, and to whose me- mory he erected a monument in the church of the Passion in { m ) Disi. lur la trag. anciennett moJerne, prefixed (o St'miramii. See also Etmy on the Gtnius and Writings of Pope. Loud. 1782, -vol. ii. /. .^48. " II est remarquablc," says Voltaire, " qu'cn Italic et en France, la veritable tragedie du: sa naissance a une Sophonisbe. Sur Medce. ( » ) At the end of this edition we read, Slamjialei in Roma per Lodo^jico/crillorf, el Lautitit Teriigitio intagliatore nel M D X X 1 1 1 1 . del mese di Luglio con proh'tbitione, che nessmio fossa stampare quetC Optra per anni diece, come appart nel Brieve concesso al prefalo Ludavico dal Santissimo Nostrp Signore Papa, Clemtnte vii. per lutte le opere nuove che 'I stampa. {%'vo.) ( ) His death is attributed to grief, occasioned by the defeat of a detachment which he commanded, in an engagement with the Germans. Milan. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 2.5 Milan. (/>) Under a master with whom he was so mucli pleas- SECT. ed, and whom he so highly respected, it may be presumed he , ^ . . made a great proficiency in his studies. To the study of Greek literature, he united that of the mathematics, natural philo- sopliy, and architecture. To his deep acquaintance with natural philosophy, Rucellai bears testimony in his Api ; and of his theoretical and practical skill in architecture, his Trat- tato di Architettura, and his house at Cricoli, are existing monuments. Having completed his education, he stepped forward into life. In 1504 he married Giovanna Tiene, a no- ble Venetian, by whom he had tv/o sons, Francesco and Giu- lio. Francesco died young, but Giulio lived to rise to the dignity of archpriest of Vicenza, and to embitter his father's days. Our author's conjugal felicity was short. He had been only a few years married when Giovanna died. Deeply af- ( / ) The inscription with which Trissino honoured the memory of his preceptor, should not be forgotten. P. M. DEMETRIO CHALCONDYL^ ATHENIENSI IN STUDIIS LITERARUM CR^CARUM tMINENtlSSIMO ; qui VIXIT ANNOS LXXVII. MENS. V. ET OBIIT ANNO CHRISTI, MDXI. JOANNES GEORGIUS TRISSINUS GASP. FILIUS PRiECEPTORI OPTIMO ET SANCTISSIMO POSUIT. Of this learned Athenian, who had .ilso been, for awile, the preceptor of Lorenzo de' Medici, some account m.iy be found in Mr. Roscoe's life of that bright ornament of Italian literature. Fol, ii. cfM/>, 7. E flicted £6 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, flicted at this event, he went to Rome, where lie undertook L, ^ . his Sofonisba, in t!ie hope of dissipating his grief by giving a new turn to his. thoughts. While he resided in this city, Julius II. died, and Leo X. rose to the Papal chair. To this munificent patron of polite literature and the elegant arts, Trissino could not long remain unknown. He was invited to his court, and honored with several marks of distinction. But the passion of ambition yielding to the love of letters, he so- licited and obtained Leo's permission to retire (1514) to his villa of Cricoli. Here he flattered himself he should indulge in the uninterrupted enjoyment of his favourite pursuits; — but how vain are the hopes of man ! instead of the tranquil- lity after which he sighed, he found his propert}'' in danger, and himself involved in a vexatious law-suit. Before he could extricate himself from this embarrassment, he Vv'as re-called to the court of Rome ; azid soon after sent as nuncio to the. emperor Maximilian. Of the result of this embassy he com- municated an account to Leo, through his friend and confidant Giovanni Rucellai. Rucellai, in a letter from Viterbo, re- ports to his friend the satisfaction which the pope expressed at his conduct, and the observation which he made on reading hisletter: " egli ha,'' said his holiness, " fino a qui proceduto bene, e non poteva meglio exequire la niia volonta di quello- ha facto." Nor was Maximilian less pleased with the conduct of Trissino. When he had finished his embassy, and was preparing, by Leo's directions, to return by Dacia, the em- geror ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 27 peror begged he might hasten home by the shortest route, and SECT, consult with his master on a treaty wliich he was desirous ^^.^—^ of setting on foot between the king of England, t_^_^ Italia Liberata, begun in i525,(z^) and, dedicating the work to Charles V. sent it to his Imperial Majesty by the hand of a friend. Flattered with the dedication, or pleased with the production, Charles insinuated a wish to see the poem conti- nued. The venerable bard taking the hint, printed the re- maining eighteen books in Venice in 1548, and sent a copy by his son Ciro to the bishop of Trent, to be presented to the Emperor, by whom it was graciously received. On the com- pletion of this work, an effusion of joy, mingled with vanity, burst forth from Trissino in the following SONETTO. To son pur giunto al desiato fine Del faticoso e luiigo mio poema, Che fatto e tal, che non havra mai tema Di tempo, e guerre, o d'altre empic ruine. author. The anonymous author of the Guidicio sopra la Canace e Macerco diS. Spertni, speaks of a visit which he made Trissino ia Murano ; but he mentions no circumstance which would iead to a discovery of the house in which he found him. ( 71 ) Stampata in Ruma per I'akriu t Luigi Donci, a pelizwne di Antoinn Macru Fif/cen/inu MDXLvn. di Maggi-j. Con Pri'-uihgiu di N. S. Papa Panllll. it di allri Puitentati. This edition is so extremely rare, that the Lift Italian biographer of Trissino declares he never saw more than two copies of it. " Rarissima e questa edizione, e due sole copie n* abbiamo noi vcdute in Venezia, una nella celebre libreria Pisani, e 1' altra nella preziosa libreria del fu Signer Apostolo Zcno." La 'vila diGio. Giorg. Trissino : Scrilta da Pier. Casielli. ■ ^ _■ it will be necessary to illustrate this slight critical analysis with a few extracts from the tragedy itself. In the conversation wliich takes place between Rosniunda and her nurse, previous to the renewal of her researches for the dead body of her father, her age and character are thus unfolded : Bench' lo non glunga al sestodecim' anno, Per the dovrei seguire il tuo consigUo, Qual' e d' onore, e di prudenzia pieno. Pur' io rispondero quel che mi pare Ch' alia nostra pieta piu si convenga. Amongst the entreaties and threats with which Rogmunda assails Falisco, theite is one passage which seems to have been borrowed from the spirited declaration of Caterina, the widow of Girolamo Riario, when a scaffold for the execution of her tragedy. But it was reserved for a living Irish writer to do it ample justice. In the Ros- munda, or the Daughter's Revenge of Mr. Preston, we are presented with a drama perfect in all its parts. In the main action, historic truth is, preserved inviolate ; but the gloomy Con- rade, the magnanimous and unfortunate Aftolpho, and the fair and tender Adelaide, are three well-drawn characters of the poet's own creation, artfully and happily introduced to increase the intereft of the piece, and assist in promoting the catastrophe. Perhaps in one inftance, Mr. Prefton's tragedy, considered in a moral point of view, may be liable to censure. In the seventh scene of the fifth act, Rosniunda appears stained with adultery, rendered doubly foul by the motive with which it was committed. In this, it is true, the author does not depart from hiflory ; — but the stage should not render us familiar with the enormity of guilt. Piclical Works of William Traton. Dub, 1793. W. ii. children ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. S9 chiklrcn was raised before the fortress of Forll, of which she SECT. had taken forcible {iossessiort, This passage, which display's > J . more spirit tlian delicacy, the curious reader may find buried in the obscurity of a noteat the end of this memoir;(2) and, in the annals of Italy, by Muratori, vol. XI. p, 5,56, he may find Calcrina's declaration recorded. While Falisco is urging the sang'uinary Alboinus to marry Rosmunda, he takes occasion to dilate on the policy of mercy with great art, and admirable felicity of expression. To non nego che' 1 premio, e che la pcna SicH due fcrme colonnc, in cui s'appoggia Ogni regna, e governo delle gente: E corae I'una delle due si frange, Non ■ch' atnbe, segue presto alta ruina: . . Ma i dice ch' al re plu si convien-e Esser avaro nel punire, e largo Nel pren->io; ch' in quel largo, e' n qucsto avaro. Considera 1' altczza ovc tu sei, E che tutti i tuoi fatti e dctti sono Come in cospetto delle genii umane: Onde quanto e maggior la tua potenza, Tanto minor licenzausar convienti. And on reading the following description of a bard singing in the royal presence, the praises of conflicting heroes, the imagination takes wing, and carries us back to *• other times." Or, 40 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Or, giunto al fin della superba cena, Albuin commando, ch' un suo poeta Cantasse le sue lode' n su la lira. Costui cantando molti egregi fatti, Disse, 'n tra gli altri, come' n la battaglia, Uccise con sua mano' 1 re Cumundo. Nel cantarsi di questo, alia regina Scendean dagli occhi per le belle guance Lacrime che pareano una rugiada Scesa la notte infra vermiglie rose. Soon as the viands were remov'd, and wine, Sparkling in crystal goblets, circled round The jocund board, the royal warrior call'd The master of the song, and bade him chaunt. In lofty strains, his feats of arms. The bard Obey'd, and chose the monarch's favourite theme. The death of warlike Cunimundus, slain In battle by Albinus' wrathful hand. The dire narration drew a flood of tears From the bright eyes of lovely Rosamond, Which, glistening on her vermeil cheek, appear'd The dews of morning on the blushing rose. From the Rosmunda let us pass to the Oreste, the happiest dramatic production of our author. " Dair Oreste," says Maffei, " e viiita la Rosmunda senza paragone ; ed e fuor di dubio. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 4,1 dubbio, clie chiunque abbia senso per la migliorpoesia, rico- SECT, noscera quest' opera per una clelle piu belle, che o dagli anti- ^ ' ^ chi, o clai raoderni siano mai state poste in teatro." It appears from this drama that invisible machinery was sometimes em- ployed in the infancy of the Italian stage, and upon the occa- sion which I am about to adduce, it must have been employed with wonderful effect. While Thoas is dwelling, with a bar- barous delight, on tiie sufferings of his captives in the amphi- theatre, a distant noise, resembling a peal of thunder mingled with cries of distress, is heard. The chorus hastily entering, exclaim, Ohu, ohu, ohu ! Thoas astonished and alarmed demands. Ma che stridore spaventoso, e strano Esce del fondo abisso della terra, E col rimbombo i nostri orecchi intuona.? The noise and cries, it should seem, continue, and during the intervals of the pealing sounds, the chorus exclaim O cielo, o terra, o fiamma, o mare, o vcnti, O alto nume, o podesta suprema, O architetto de' convessi chiostri, Deh non mutate I'ordine del cielo, E' non patite si confonda in caos Tanta e si bella maccbina del mondo. G But 42 HISTORICAL MEMOIR But let us turn from this scene of horror to a smiling pic- ture in the fourth act. In order to discover whether Orestes be an impostor, Iphigenia desires him to describe the orna- ments of her bed. Ifi. Ma dimmi; sopra il cappezzal del letto Nella lettiera che v' er'ei dipinte? Orestes replies ; Sopra un erboso rivo Di corrente cristallo Un vago, e bianco eigne Sorgea, curvando il collo Sopra' 1 candido grembo D'una bella fanciulla, Che tessea d' erbe, e fieri I Fresche ghirlande: Poi con li schietti diti Al petto, al collo, al frontc Deir uccel Ic ponea, Dipingendo di fiori , , Di piu di color mille, ' Come r Iridc il sole Le piiimos' ale. Et eifiso mirando Ne gli occhi di costei Sospeso pende. 1. E poi « ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. E poi ]' aurato bccco Suavemente aprencio, Parea diccsse, o donna, Con visibil parlare, Grazie vi rendo. Moving, on the glassy tide, Soon a cygnet we defcry'd Gently steering to the shore, By the flovv'ry margin moor. Arching his redundant crest, A gentle fair the swan carest. On her snowy bosom lying, While her busy fingers plying Her light tafk, with gentle care Wove him many a garland fair. For his neck and for his crest, And his gently swelling chest; Where many a tint was seen to glow. Richer than the show'ry bowj O'er his gay and ivory plumes. Shedding soft Elysian blooms. Darting now an amorous glance. Or sinking down in rapt'rous trance. On her charms he seem'd to dwell. And with silent transport swell; 'Till issuing from his golden bill. These sweet accents seem'd to trill. &c. G 2 Here 43 44 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Here the classical reader will find our author improving on his original ; for Euripides only makes Orestes slightly allude to the dissentions between Atreus and Thyestes. But this is not the only instance in which Rucellai departs from his au- thor with an happy boldness. Indeed he so frequently im- proves on the Greek tragedian, that he almost makes the sub- ject his own. This tragedy was not given to the press during the life-time of the author. It lay for two hundred years after his death, concealed in the chaos of his papers. At length it was discovered by the Marquis Maffei, and publish- ed in his Teatro Italiano. Riccoboni speaks with pride of having, as he believes, first introduced it upon the stage. Besides the Rosmunda and Oreste, Rucellai wrote a poem entitled le Api, of which M. de Tenhove thus speaks: '• Hom- me de gout," says this elegant enthusiast, " dans vos prome- nades solitaires prenez quelque fois son poeme, Ed odi quel che sopra un vcrde prato, Cinto d'abeti e d' onorati allori, Clie bagna or un muscoso e chiaro fonte, Canta de I'api del suo florid' orto. And listen while he sings, at ease rcclin'd On a soft bank within his garden's bound, ( a ) By piny cincture, and the laurel shade In reverential gloom encurtain'd deep, ( a ) We learn from the annotations of Roberto Titi on the Api, that it was written in the village of Quaracchi near Florence, where the author's villa stood. Vcn. 175 1 . /. zzo. Where, ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 4^ Where, ever and anon, a mossy fount Tells its soft warbl'd tale. The toiling hive All at their fragrant task, with busy hum Are heard, wide hovering o'er the flowery mead. The poem concludes with the author's determination to resume his tragedy of Orestes : Ma tempo e, ch' io ritorni al tristo Oreste, Con piu sublime, e lagrimoso verso. Come convicnsi a i tragici coturni. While Rucellai lay on his death bed, he solemnly charged his brother Palla to submit this poem to the perusal of his friend Trissino, and when it had received his last corrections, to dedicate it to him; an injunction which was religiously observed. Again, raising his faultering voice, " I would gladly" said he, " impose also on my dear Trissino, the irk- some task of correcting my Oreste, if I thought the me- mory of our long friendship would serve to mitigate the trouble." (6) From a few brilliant touches in this drama, which indicate the master-hand of Trissino, it is conjec- tured that the wish of the expiring bard was not heard with indifference by his friend. It reflects honor on the memory of those amiable poets, that though they pursued together the same road to fame, their friendship was never interrupted by the rancour of jealousy, or the malignant whisper of envy ; " un caratteristico indubitato," says MafFei, " d' ingegni ( b ) This pathetic scene is decribed by P.illa Rucellai in the dedication to the Api, {Fir. 1539) ; a poem which rivals, while it imitates, the fourth georgic of Virgil. vera- 4(3 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, veramente grandi, e d' animi veramente nobili." United by . • , congeniality of mind and similarity of studies, they were only divided by death. They consulted each other on their differ- ent compositions, and, the better to judge of the flow of their numbers, they occasionally selected passages from their res- pective poetical productions, for recitation in their social meetings, each finding like a friend. Something to blame, and fomething to commend. With talents so splendid, and a birth so illustrious, it is na- tural to suppose that Rucellai would be induced to take an active part in the political concerns of his country, or his fa- mily. Accordingly we are not surprised at finding him abandoning the muses, in order to go as ambassador from Florence to Venice, and as nuncio from the court of Rome to that of Francis I. With Leo, died his hopes of the por- pora. But Clement VII. appointed him to the honorable office of Castellano, or keeper of the fortress of St. Angelo ;(c) in the enjoyment of which office he died in 1526. As Luigi Alamanni has ventured to dispute with Trissinothe honor of first employing blank verse in " longer works," we shall notice him here, though he only appears in the humble rank of a translator or imitator, amongst the early dramatic { c ) Rucellii has left an immortal monument of his gratitude to Clement, in the apos- trophe to the sacred college, in his Api, beginning Pero voi, che creaste in terra un Die, &c. writers ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 47 writers of Italy. Alamanni, like our Milton, not less [ond SECT. of poetical than political liberty, soon threw off the shackles of __V_^ rhyme. His imitation of the Antigone, of Sophocles, (<:/) which appeared in 1532, and his didactic poem of Coltivazione, l^rinted at Paris in 1546, arc both in blank verse. Besides these produ6lions, he published Rime in various measures. In his Inni, or Hymns, which are praised by Crescimbeni, he uses the Greek divisions of strophe, antistrophe, and epodc, giving to those divisions, in allusion to the original accompaniment of dancing, the denominations of ballata, contraballata, and stanza. Signor Signorelli vindicates Alamanni from the im- putation of being the author of a tragedy entitled Libcro Arbitrio.(f') This " diabolica tragedia," he says was written by Francesco Negri of Bassano, " apostata dalla nostra cat- tolico fede." Of the corre6lness of Signor Signorelli's infor- mation, I do not entertain a doubt ; but I am sure he will not deny that the charader of our author afforded grounds for the foul suspicion. Amongst the disturbers of the peace of ( ii ) Giraldi Cinthio makes the elogc of this tirama, i;i the discourse which Tragedy de- livers after the Orbecche. E quel, che 'nsino oltre-le rigid' Alpi DaTliebe, in Toscano habito tradusse La pietosa soror di Polinice. 1' dice d' Alamanni, r.he mi vide Per mio raro destine uscirc in scena. ( f ) Count Mazzuchelli labours to prove Alamanni innocent of this diabolical tragedy ; but acknowledges, at the same time, that he wrote a tragedy, which still remains inedited, en- titled la Liberia, See his yila di L, Alamanni, prefixed to La Ccltivazione. Vin. 1751. Florence, ^s HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. Florence, Alainanni makes a conspicuous figure. When I _f;^ discover him haranguing a mob, or animating the drooping courao-e of an army,— flying from court to court for the vile purpose of inviting foreign powers to invade his country and redress the imaginary wrongs of his party ; — when I hear him shouting for liberty, and, at the same time, observe him sow- in o- the seeds of sedition, he reminds me of la Discorde in the t) Lutrin " toute noire de crimes.'' Stimulated by this frantic zeal in the cause of liberty, he not only broke the strong ties of friendship and gratitude, but over-leaped all moral and religious bounds. He has been ac- cused of apostacy to his church ; and, in consequence of having entered into a conspiracy to assassinate his -friend and be- nefactor, cardinal Giulio de' Medici, he was obliged to aban- don his country. To admire Alamanni, we must attend him to the literary meetings in the garden (/) of Bernardo Rucellai ( y ) The garden, or academic grove, in which Bernardo Ruccellai held his literary meet- ings, and in which the Rosmunda of his son was recited in the presence of Leo X. stands near Florence, in the Via della Scala. The design of this garden and the palace (now the property of the Stiozzi family) to which it belongs, was given by Leon Batista Alberti, «' Feci," savs Vasari, " il disegno della casa, ed orto, de' medesimi Ruccellai nello via della Scala ; la quale e fatta con molto giudizio, e comodissima, avendo, oltre agli altri molti agi, due logge, una volta a mezzogiorno.el'altraaponente, amendue beUissime, e fatte senza archi sopra le colonne." rit/z di L. B. Alberti. p. 240. Alberti was not only an archi- tect, but a painter, a sculptor, and a successful poet. Some of his sonnets are much admired ; and his latin comedy of Philodoxios, which he distributed amongst his friends as the work of Lepidus, an ancient Roman poet, so effectually deceived the literati of his own and the suc- ceeding age, that the younger Aldus published it as a precious remnant of antiquity. Vide E/og. dcgli uomini illust, toic. torn. ii. Life of Lorenz, de' Medici, wl. i. /. 87. near OK ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 49 near Florence, or follow him into the silent recesses of his SECT. study. He was born in Florence in 1495, and died at Am- boise in France, in 1556. During his exile he found liberal patrons in Francis I. and Henry II. and his son was raised to a bishopric by the latter, Ariosto has honoured Alamanni with a niche in his Orlando Furioso.(^) The tragic muse being now roused in Italy, found several votaries. Amongst the many pieces as well original as trans- lations which covered her altars, the Edipo re of Orsatto Gi- ustiniano, a Venetian nobleman, particularly recommends itself to our notice, not only by its intrinsic merit, but from the adventitious circumstance of its having: been the first drama represented in the famous Olympic theatre of Palladio in Vicenza, where, says an Italian author, it was recited in 1585, " con sontuosissimo apparato." This tragedy becomes attra6tive also from another anecdote attached to its scenical history. When it was first exhibited, the part of CEdipus was performed with great ability, — " sostenuta egregiamente," says an Italian critic, — by Luigi Groto, commonly called il cieco d' Adria, from the circumstance of his being totally de- prived of sight ; a misfortune which befel him on the eighth day after he was born. This extraordinary man was not only an actor of merit, but a fruitful and successful writer. His pastoral of Calisto,(/.;) and his comedies of Alteria, Ijg) C. 91. Luigi da Porto, a Viccntine, was, in his youth, on account of his valour, made a leader in the Venetian army ; but, fighting against the Germans in Friuli, was so wounded, that he remained for a time wholly disabled, and afterwards lame and weak duiring his life ; on which account, quitting the profession of arms, he betook himself to letters, and wrote in volgar poesia. He died in 1529. It is to be hoped, that Mr. Malone will not withold from the public, his elgant trans- lation of a ta'.e so interesting, on many accounts, as La Giulietta of da FoitOi Hatrio ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 53 Hatrio to offer his daughter in marriage to the son of the King SECT. of the Sabines. This offer is gladly accepted, and the young , ' , prince hastens to Adria to receive his promised bride from the hands of her father. Orders are immediately issued to prepare for the wedding. Joy pervades every breast, but that of Hadriana, who laments a brother killed by her lover, and dreads at the same time, the loss of that lover. Unable to bear this accumulation of misfortunes, and incapable of de- vising means of extrication, she has recourse to the mago, {ii ) who commiserates her situation, and promises her an opiate which she is to take the night previous to tiie intended wed- ding. This opiate is to hold her senses steeped in sleep for sixteen hours. (0) Ecco la polvc, ch' io vo darvi, tanta Vi fara morta star, ben sedici hore. Dressed in her bridal robes and crowned with a garland of flowers which she had culled herself, she retires alone to her chamber ; but perceiving forebodings which she vainly endea- vours to suppress, she calls her damsels around her and bids ( n ) " II che intendeiido la giovane dolorossissima sopra modo ne divenne ne sapendo die si fare la morte mille volte al gioriio disiderava ; pur di fare intcnderc il suo dolorc a frate Lorenzo fra se slessa delibero''. La Ginlietta. (3) ( ) " Io ti daro una polvere, la qual tu beendola per quarantaotto hore, over poco meno, ti fara in guisa dormire, ch' ogni huomo per gran medico, che «gli sia non ti giudicara mai akro che moita. Jiiii, to 54, HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, to each a melancholy adieu. She then summons her nurse, . ^' . and directs her to give her un vaso d'acqua fresca Per mitigar la sua fcrvida sete Pria^ che al sonno vicin si desse in preda. [p) This vase, which contained the opiate disguised, she drains, and then extending herself on her bed, falls into a profound sleep. The messenger who is sent in the morning to desire her attendance at the altar, finds her apparently dead. Da' panni era coperta infino a piedi, l,e belle man s' havea composto al petto, Con le dita incrocciate, il volto, volto Al ciel tenea. [q) I.oud lamentations are then heard throughout the palace, and the preparations for the marriage ceremony give place to funeral rites. The bod3'-, followed by a long procession, crosses the stage, attended by a chorus of priests chaunting a solemn dirge, which the mother and nurse of Hadriana oc- casionally interrupt with bursts of sorrow. The body is then deposited in the royal sepulchre. Latinus hearing accidentally (/ ) " La notte vicino a'.le quattro hore, chiamatauna sua fante, che seco allevata s'era, et die qu-isi come sorella teiieva, fattossi dare una coppa d'acqua fredda dicendo che per gli cibi della sera avanti sete sosteneva." La Gmliei:a. ( 7 ) " Tornaia ntl letto come s' havcssecreduto, morire,cosi compose sopra qiicllo il corpo &U0 mcglio che did scppc, ct Ic mani sopra il petto poste in croce." lb:d. of ON ITALIAN TKACEDV. nn }•> of the death of his niistrcss,(r) furnishes himself with poison, SECT. and hastens to the phice of her interment. He enters, and , ^ , carrying forth tliebody in his arms, pathetically laments her untimely death and his own cruel destiny. Hesolving not to survive her, he swallows the poison, then pressing her again to his breast, he perceives some signs of life. O Dio, chc sento? sento pur iiel petto Batterle il core: e parmi, che si inova, E che spiri: Hadriana, ch 'e cotcsto ?(i) The princess awakes, and, perceiving Latinus, sinks, de- lighted, into his arms. A tender scene ensues. At length Latinus feels the operation of the poison, and acknowledges the rash deed, but urges Adriana to live for the sake of her family. He struggles and expires. The inconsolable Hadri- ana vows not to survive him. Just at that moment the mago enters, attended by a friend ; he endeavours, in vain, to dis- suade the princess from her purpose. She gives some direc- " (») Ivila sua bella Giulictta sopra ossaet stracci di molii morti, come rnorta vide giacere, onde immantinente forte pi;ignendo coii coniincio a dire : o occlii, che a gli occhi miei loste, mentre al cielo piacque.chiare luci, &c. Ihiif, (s ] " Stretta et dimenata da Romeo nelle sue braccia, si desto, et risentitasi dopo un gran snspiro, disse, &c.'' UiJ, This aff.cting circumstance is omitted in Brooks's translation of da Porto's novel. And as Shakspcare has not availed himself of it, it has been presumed he could not read the story in the original Italian; — which, perhaps, he never saw. " But thi^," as Dr. Johnson observes, " proves nothing against his knowledge of the original. He was to copy, not what he knew himself, but what was known to his audience." tions S6 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, tions in regard to the place and manner of her interment, and ^ ' , then, raising a dagger, which she held in her hand, stabs her- self. From this analytical review it is evident, that Groto not only followed da Porto in the conduct of his fable, but that he has also borrowed from him several thoughts and expres- sions. To the English reader it is now well known, that Shakspeare had similar obligations to Arthur Brooke, who published, in 1^62, under the title of The tragical history of Romeus and Juliet,(;;) a free translation, or rather imitation, of da Porto's novel. And, perhaps, it will yet appear, that the English bard read, with profit, the drama under consideration. It is, I know, generally supposed, that Shakspeare was igno- rant of the Italian language, though his works seem to afford strong internal evidence of his intimate acquaintance with the language, as well as the customs and manners of modern Italy. I shall not, however, presume to oppose my judgment to that of a. Farmer, a Steevens, or a Malone: but while I am sele6ling specimens from this tragedy, I shall exhibit, in the notes, such passages from the English drama as may ap- pear to me to be parallel, or, at least, strikingly similar. Latinus, having passed the night previous to his departure, in amorous dalliance with Hadriana, in the garden of the palace, perceives, with sorrow, the approach of morning. ( / ) See Mr. Malone's valuable edition of The Plujs end Poemt of Wnu Shaksffare. -vol. x. Lat. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 57 Lat. S'io non erro, e presso il far del giorno. Udite il rossignuol, che con noi desto. Con noi gemc fra i spin!, e la rugiada Col pianto nostro bagna Therbe. Ahi lasso, Rivolgete la faccia all' oriente. Ecco incomincia a spuntar I'alba fuori, Portando un' altro sol sopra la terra. Had. Ahime, ch'io gelo. Ahime, ch'io tremo tutta. Questa h quell' hora, ch 'ogni mia dolcezza Affatto stempra. Ahime, quest' e quell' hora, Che m' insegna a saper, che cosa e affanno. O del mio ben nemica, avara notte, Perche si ratto corri, fuggi, voli, A sommerger te stcssa, e me nel mare ? Lat. If I err not, the day approaches faft. Hear'ft thou the nightingale that wakes with us. And thro' these lone shades trills her plaintive notes In melancholy concert with our woes? The dew, fast falling with our tears, impearls The beauteous flow'rs that spread their mingled blooms. Behold the east, my love. Alas, the morn, Ris'n from the oozy caverns of the deep. With rosy steps advances. In her train Observe the bright divinity of day Close following. Had. Ah, an icy chillness Thrills thro' my veins. Unwonted tremours run O'er all my frame convuls'd. This is the hour Long doom'd. The fatal time, alas, is come, I Which 58 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Which teaches me how vain were all my hopeS; O cruel enemy, invid'ous night! Why urge thus rapidly thy ebon car ? Why haste, why fly to plunge thyfelf and me In ocean's deep abyss? (a) Both Groto and Shakspeare ascribe the same effedl to the opiate. The first follows da Porto ; the latter Brooke ; and Brooke the Italian novelist. Mag. Questa bevendo voi con I' acqua cruda,. Dara principio a lavorar fra un poco, E vi addormentara si immota, e fissa, E d' ogni senso rendera si priva : II calor naturale, il color vivo E lo fpirar vi torra si, si i polsi, (In cui e il teflimonio della vita) Immobili staran senza dar colpo ; \u) Jul. Wilt thou be gone ? It is not yet near day; It was the nightingale, and not the lark. That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear ; Nightly (he fings on yon pomegranate tree : Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. 'Rom, It was the lark, the herald of the morn. No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east; Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountains' tops. 1 must be gone and live, or stay and die. Rameo and Juliet, Act iii. fc, j. It is deserving of observation, that the nightingale, of which both Groto and Shakspeare make so happy an use, is not mentioned, on the same occafion, either ia the novel of da Porto, or in the metrical tale of Brooke, Che ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. ,59 Che alcun per dotto fisico, che sia, Non potra giudicarvi altro, che morta. Mag. When this, with water from the living spring. Diluted, you shall drink, its potency You straight will feel. A slumbrous trance will feizc Your drowsy senses. Your corporeal pow'rs Will cease their agency. The genial warmth That now with ardour glows thro' all your frame. Will then be felt no more. The vivid dyes Now mantling o'er your crimson cheek, will yield To deadly pale. Within thee, for awhile. The vital spark will seem to be extinguish'd. Nay, even the busy pulfe (that certain proof Of this frail being) then will ceafe to beat. To all who fliall behold thee, thou wilt seem Quite dead, [v) When ( t) ) Friai: Take thou this phial, being then in bed. And this distilled liquor drink thou off; When prefently through all thy veins shall ruw A cold and drowsy humour, which sliall seize Each vital spirit; forno pulse shall keep His nat'ral progress, but surceafe to beat j No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st ; The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly aohes j thy eyes' windows fall. Like death when he shuts up the day of life; Each part, depriv'd of supple government. Shall stiff, and stark, and cold appear, like death ; I 3 And €o HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. When the mago gives the soporific draught to Hadriana, he promises to send a trusty messenger to Latinus to acquaint him with the plan which he has devised for her deliverance from the impending nuptials. Afa^. Tra tanto manderem fidato messo, Occultamente in fretta al vostro amante, Che poco ancor da noi lontan eamina, Con lettere secrete, ad avvisarlo Di tutto '1 fatto. II qual senza dimora A dietro, 1' orme rivo]gendo, tosto Sara qui giunto, et egli, 6 (se sia tardo Alquanto) io, vi trarro dell' area fuori;, E travestlta andrete fuor con esso. E cosi nella morte, e nel sepolcro. La vita troverete, e il maritaggio. Cosi r ira paterna fuggirete, Le odiate nozze, e con pieta commune Senza alcun biasmo, senza alcun periglio, Lieta cadrete al vostro amante in mano. .Mag. Near to the confines of your father's state, Latinus lingers ftill. To him, with haste And fecrecy, a letter shall be fent. Unfolding all our purpose. But fhould aught And in the borrowed likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt continue two and forty hours. And then awake^ as from a pleasant sleep. Romeo and JuUtU Act iv« Scene i . Prevent I i ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 6i Prevent his coming at th' appointed hour, I will your waking carefully attend. And, from the silent mansions of the dead, With speed convey you to his longing arms. Thus life and love await you in the tomb ; Thus shall you 'scape the hated nuptial bonds. And shun your father's ire. (w) When the supposed death of Juliet is announced to her father in the English tale, no comforter appears to mitigate his sorrows : but, in Shakspearc's play, the Friar is intro- duced, recommending resignation to the divine will, and en- deavouring to persuade the afflicted father that, instead of la- menting the death of his daughter, he ought rather to rejoice at her escape from this world of care. In the tragedy of Groto we find the minister of Hatrio performing the sam.e pious office. The friar's exhortation must be familiar to the English reader; that of Hatrio's minister begins thus: Hat. Non mi dorro d'haver perduto i figli? Cons. Non perde 11 suo colui, che V altrui rende. A la terra doveansi i corpi, 1' alme A Dio, tutto '1 composto a la natura: ( lu ) Friar. Against thou slialt awake. Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift. And hither shall he come, and he and I Will watch thy waking, and that very night Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua ; And this shall free thee from this present shame. Romeo end Juliet. Act iv. Scene I . Non 62 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Non biasmate colui che vi li toglie Si tosto. Ma piu tosto li rendete Gratie, &c. Abundant as the beauties of Groto's tragedy are, they are almost outnumbered by concetti. Even the prologue is not exempt from puerilities : at the commencement the audience are threatened with losing, during the representation, Un' Etna di sospiri, e un mar di pianto. Of sighs an JEinn, and of tears a sea.('ze'*) But the following sonnet, selected from our author's Rime, may be aptly compared to a string of false brilliants. Of this illegitimate offspring of wit, the muse of an ingenious friend, in a sportive moment, made the version which I sub- join. SONETTO. Se'I cor non ho, com'esser puo, ch' i viva? E se non vivo, comel'ardor sento? Se ] 'ardor m'ange, come ardo contento? Se contento ardo, il pianto onde deriva? S'ardo, ond 'esce I'humor, ch'agli occhi arriva? Se piango, come '1 foco non n' e spento? Senon moro, ache ogn 'hor me ne lamento? E se moro, che sempre me ravviva? i lu* ) Baciandolo spcsso, un marc delle sue lagrime spargere sopra. Ln Giulieita, S'ag^hiaccio, ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 63 S'agghiaccio, come porto il foco in seno? S'amor mi ftruggc, perchc il segue tanto? Se da madonna ho duol, perche la lodo? Questi effctti d' amor, si strano mode, E si diverse stil tengon, che quanto Vi penso piu, tanto gli intendo meno. How can I live when of my heart depriv'd? And can the bofomof a dead man glow? Ah, why fo patient 'midfl my pungent woe? And if I burn, whence are my tears deriv'd ? I& sorrow's fount within my eyes reviv'd From fire ? Can flame survive where sorrows flow ? If still I live, why thus my joys forego? Has sorrow s-till my final date surviv'd? I burn, — I freeze, — and can I freeze and burn ? If love torments me, why my plague pursue? If Lucy grieves me, why my fair applaud ? These dire effects of love, this varied mode Perplex me so, that still the more I view My plagues, the more my ignorance I mourn. It may be said of Groto, that he " could never forgive any conceit that came in his way, but swept, hke a drag-net, great and small." Is it then to be wondered at, that his writings should have served, as we are told they did, " a depra- var il secolo ?" This poet, " though blind, yet bold," under- took a translation of the Iliad of Homer, of which he publish- ed the first book in Venice, in 1571. And it is a fact as extraordinary e^ HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, extraordinary, as it is well authenticated, that Groto was em- ^- ployed by the inquisition, to purge the Decamerone of Boc- caccio, of its impurities !(.r) In what year Groto was born, I have not been able to learn ; but we are informed by Cres- cimbeni, that he died at Venice in 1585, and was buried in the church of San Luca. A few years after his decease, his body was removed to his native city of Adria, where he now sleeps with his fathers. Mention having been made of the TeatRo Olimpico, I shall here suspend the course of this little history, while I describe that eleg-ant edifice, and offer a few observations on the construction of the Italian theatre at the period under confideration. A society of theatrical dilettanti, then residing in Vicenza, occasionally exhibited the favourite dramas of the day, upon a temporary stage erected in the Palazzo della ragione, or town-hall of that city. Desirous of a more com- modious place of exhibition, they applied to Palladio for a design of a small theatre, and he gave them one on the simple plan of the ancient Roman theatre, preferring the semi-elyp- tic to the semi-circular form. This theatre stands upon an area of ninety two feet in depth, and eighty five feet in breadth. It is divided, like its model, into live parts, viz. Scena, Pul- pitum, Orchestra, Spectatorium, and Porticus. As it was built with a view to tragic exhibitions only, all the scenical ( *• ) Vide htor.dclDuam, di G. Boccaccio, p. 6jg. an huge mass of curious, but ill-digcfted matter. ornaments. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 6.5 ornaments are tragic, and the scenes fixed ; differing in this SECT. from the ancient theatres, whose scenes moved on axes or . . ^' . pins, occasionally presenting different frontispieces. " Ve) scena ut versisdiscedat frontibus,"(}') says Virgil. The chord of the semi-elyptic of the theatre which we are describing, is cut by three streets, (jr) the middle one of which, accord- ing to the precept of Vitruvius, presents palaces, obehsks, and other public buildings in perspective; and the other two, or- dinary houses. And, the facade of the scena is ornamented with statues and bassi relievi, executed by Alessandro Vitto- ria.(a) From this description of the Teatro Olimpico it ap- pears, that moveable scenery was, at that time, either un- known, or not used, in Italy; a fact of which this theatre is an existing monument. Nay, the circumstance of the Ros- munda of Rucellai having been represented in a garden, is another proof in point ; to which we may add, that " Gu- (^) Georg. lib. iii. /;'«. 24. (■z) The critics were long puzzled, to account for some passages in Plautus and Terence, In which one character expresses an ardent and repeated wish to see a person then on the stage; while that person is, at the same time. In the other street, and cannot be seen by the actor, though he is by the audience. But the moment liie Olympic Theatre arose, the diiSculty vanished. It was an architectonic comment on the ancient comic poets. Mad. du Boccagc, defcribing this theatre, observes, " la nous redescendimes pour en parcourir avec soin les dif- ferentes rues ou les Daves, les Chremes arrivant sur la fcenc, pouvoicnt parler sans sc voir, Alorsje compris comment leurs tres-longs <2 /^r/f ne blessoient point la vraiserablancc. Re- cueil des (Ewvrcs, torn. iii. p. 1 44." See also ^Dentin fait arimilatim duthtatre olimpique,yn<^ tho explication, in Hiit.du theat, Ital. torn. i./. 1 16. (a) A description of this theatre, more minute than seemed consistentwithmy plan, is ^l\tn in Defcriz.dellt arch, pittiire e scclt.di Vicenza, Vice»z. 1779. parti. The description of De la Lande (-voy. in Ital, torn. ix. /. 68.) may also be consulted with satisfaction ; and that of Mad, du Boceage {CEtmrts, tor*, iii./ 144-) r«ad with pleafurc. K arini 66 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, arini, in his Pastor Fido, ordered his theatre, says Riccoboni, , . m such a manner, that without any change of decoration, the spectators see the temple on the top of the mountain, the o-rotto at the foot of it, and the valley where all the scenes pass." Indeed, while the Aminta and Pastor Fido continued to be relished in Italy, they were often exhibited in gardens or in groves, with only such scenery as nature supplied, and a rude scalinata, formed of mounds of earth. (6) Vestiges of a sylvan theatre, in which the latter was often represented, lately remained in the garden of the neglected Villa Madama- which hangs over the Tiber, in the classical vicinity of Rome. Nor have sylvan dramatic exhibitions yet fallen into total disuse. In the year 1783, Paesiello's beautiful opera of Nina was exhibited, by order of the king of Naples, in a small wood near Caserta. And so late as the year 1792, a sylvan theatre was formed in the fantastic gardens of the marquis- Bevilacqua, in Ferrara. — But this rural excursion is leading me away from my subject. Let us return : — Sulpitius, who attributes to his patron. Cardinal Riario, nephew of the in- famous Sixtus IV. the invention of painted scenes, gives us no reason to suppose, that the scenes which he describes, were moveable. In fact, observance of unity of place pre- cludes the necessity of change of scene, and this law was rarely violated by the early Italian tragic poets. But the (b) From certain passages in the Aminta of T;isso, and ramoroso sdegno of Francesco Bracciolini, the immobility of scenery, at this period, may be inferred. In the Due Pelli- grini of Taiisillo the necessity of moveable scenery is precluded, comic ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 67 comic muse, too playful to submit to restriction, often over- SECT. [ leaped the Aristotelian bounds. Comedy, therefore, soon -_^_> demanded mutable scenery. Machiavelli, in the prologue to his Mandragola, promises the spectators great variety of scenes: Vedete I'apparato, Quale hor vi dimostra. Qucsta e Firenze vostra. Un' altra volta sara Roma, 6 Pisa; Cosa da smascellarsi della risa. But the theatrical machinists of these times being not more expert than those of ancient Rome, performed their scenic changes under the concealment of a curtain, which answered to the Roman siparium.(c) This appears, from the stage di- rections given in some old Italian comedies. In the first a6l of the T\mo\\[d) of Boiardo, we are told, " lecortine del cielo s'aprino, Jove appare cum Mercurio." Again : " come Ti- mone ha passato el monte, le cortine se chiudino." When it w.as found necessary to diversify dramatic exhibitions with in- termezzi or interludes, change of scene followed of course ; for each interlude being a perfect piece in itself, required ap- propriate scenery. Appropriate scenery was not, however, ( c ) The Siparium was different from the Aulccum. The former concealed the scene, the latter the stage. The Auloeum and its uses are mentioned by Horace. Lib. n. efist. i. line 189. ( d ) This comedy was written by the author of the Orlando innamorato, at the desire of his munificent patron, Hercules I. duke of Ferrara, It is founded on a dialogue of Lucian. The first edition apjpeared, without date, in 1494. K 2 always 68 HISTORICAL MEMOIR ^ECJ. alwa3's confined to interludes: when the Italian translation of V ./ , the Minoechmei of Plautus, by Hercules I. duke of Ferrara, Mas first ( i486) exhibited in that city, the scenery represented some houses, a sea-port, and a ship.(e) But, to return from this digression : In the year 1546, the Canace of Sperone Speroni was printed surreptitiously in Flo- rence, by Francesco Doni. The chorusses, which are defi- cient in this edition, were never supplied. This may be at- tributed to the rough treatment which the author received from a malignant critic immediately after the appearance of his tragedy. Speroni was too proud to reply, and his muse, indignant, fled ; so that the Canace has come down to us in its pristine state of imperfection. Yet the dramatic fame of Speroni rests on this unfinished production, which is " giudi- cata," says Crescimbeni, di pregio eguale ad ogni altra di nos- tra lingua/' However, Crescimbeni allows, that the subject is " scellerato," and that the author is reprehensible for min- gling rhyme with blank verse, and occasionally employing verses of eleven, seven, and even five syllables. Though the syllabical freaks of Speroni's muse might, prhaps, be ( e ) The stage, on which this comedy was represented, was erected in the largest conrt- of the ducal palace, where the Chiesa Nuova now stands. It was constructed of wood, and cost only the moderate sum of one thousand crowns. In this humble theatre, several trans- iations from Plautus, made by order of Hercules, were recited ; also a sacred drama, inti- tuled Joseph ; and, as we have already observed, la Pamphila of Antonio da Pistoia. " And such was the enthusiasm of the new arts," says Gibbon, " that one of the sons of Alfonso I. did not disdain to speak a prologue on this stage." It will, perhaps, gratify literary cu- riosity to be told, that the Prince alluded to by Gibbon, was Don Fiancesco, and the pro- logue, that of the Lena of Ariosto. defended. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 69 defended, we can offer no apology for the choice of his sub- SECT. ject ; in truth, we are almost tempted to doubt his mnral . " , purity, when we find him labouring to support his choice with authorities drawn from the amorous history of the Pagan deities, and the incestuousconnectionsof the Jewish kings. (/) Nor does the conduct of the fable compensate for the horror inspired by the subject ; for the sole source of our anxiety, and the hinge of the plot, is the difficulty attending the conceal- ment of the child, with whose fate we are previously made acquainted by its departed spirit, which opens the piece with a long monologue. OMBRA. Uscito dell 'inferno Vengo al vostro cospetto ombra infelice Del figliuolo innocente Di due fratelli arditi e scelerati Ganace, e Macareo ch' appena nato L'ira de Eolo mio avo (O* secoli inhumani!) Diede mangiar a cani. Et pur, e dio, &c. (/) Canoct trag. del, Sig.Sp, Speroni, alia quale sotto aggiunte alcunt altrt sut tompKitmi, Vet!. 1 597. I refer to this edition for Speroni's apology for his subject but the passages which I have given from the tragedy, are drawn from the first edition. Fkr , 1546. When 70 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. When Canace bears her guilty burthen to the front of the . ^" , stage, and implores the aid of Juno in her travail, we are disgusted. But our pity is moved when we behold her ex- tended on a couch, taking a final leave of her child before she plunges the fatal sword into her breast. Posta s'era a seder sovra el suo letto La Miserella vinta dal dolore Del parto, e dal timore De la morte futura E tenea ne le braccia II figliuol pur mo nato Padre de la sua morte Basciandogli hor la faccia, et hor 11 petto. Molle tutto e bagnato Del suo pianto angoscioso: Giaceali a piedie' I volto Con le sue proprie mani S'havea chiuso e nascoso L'infelice Nutrice; Gionto con le parole e coi present! Paterni, alzo la testa lagrimando E disse, qual arrivi Tale t'aspettava io, ma se di questo Mio figliuol innocente Ch'altri mai non ofFese, se non forse Me meschina e se stesso Vieni a prender vendetta per pietade Piaciati ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 71 Piaciati d'indugiarla Almen fin ch'io sia morta •Si che mi passi il core Quel tuo coltelloenon questodolore. This, indeed, is a picture by the hand of a master ; it has, as Signer Signorelli observes, " una verita, un patetico, un interresse si vivo, che penetra, nc' cuori e potentemente commuove e perturba." But the author does not always evince the same richness of fancy, and purity of di6lion. In the latter, it must be confessed, he often fails, though the original manuscript of this piece was revised, with anxious care, at the meetings of the Academia degli Elevati of Padua ; yet Tasso and Guarini, whose deference for the taste and judgment of the author was heightened by their esteem for the man, took his style, with all its impurities, for their model. Hence the numerous conceits which disgrace their dramatic pastorals. From the imperfeft state of this tragedy it may be presumed it was never publicly represented ; a private recitation of it was, however, intended ( 154,2) by the academici infiammati ; but the death of Angelo Beolco, detto il Ruzante, (g) who was to have performed the principal part, defeated this design. It would be pleasing to know, but vain to enquire, what were ( g ) Beolco is faid by the hiftorian of his native city of Padua, to have surpassed Plautus in composing comedies, and Roscius in representing them. Bern. ScarJeon. de antiq. Urb, Pfitavii.fol, 255. The introduction of masked characters upon the Italian stage, is attributed to 73 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, were the author's ideas or wishes in regard to the costume, v_^ or dresses of his chara6ters, as ^^olus is the hero, and the chorus composed of his attendant winds. In the monologue of the Ombra, scenical directions seem to be given in the fol- lowing passage : Questa E r isola d' Eolia, ond' e' Signore Eolo mio avo : questo E il career de suoi venti Che egli scioglie, et affrena ; Qui il suo tempio ha Giunone, Qui Eolo il sua palazzo. But brilliant as many passages in this drama may be, and highly as the whole piece has been extolled by the cotempo- to tkis comedian. He died in 1542, and was buried " Patavii in JEde d'ui Danielis. juxta pratum vallis." His memory was honored with a monument, on which we read the following inscription ; V. S, ANCELOBEOLCO RUZANTI PATAVINO NUILIS IN SCRIBENDIS ACENDIS(yJE COMCEDIIS INCENIO, FACUNDA,AUT ARTE SECUNDO JOCIS ET SERMONIB. AGREST. APPtAHSU OMNIUM FACETISS: QUI NGN SINE AMI COR, MCERORE E VITA DICES- SIT ANN. DOMINI MDXLII DIE XVII MARTII : iETATIS VERO XL O. BAPT. ROTA PATAVINUS TANT^ PR AST A NTI .E, ADMIRAT. PICN.HOC SEMPIT.IN TBS1IM0K. FAMJE AC NOMIN. P. c. ANN, A MUNDO REDEMF. MDLX. raries ON. ITALIAN TRAGEDY. / .^ raries of the author, it is probable, tluit Speroni will be better 5£Cr, known to posterity under the character of Mopsus in the ^ Aminta, than as the author of the Canace. Envious of the expanding glory of Tasso, he endeavoured to " damn with faint praise," the first sketch of the Gerusalemme Liberata, Being invited by Tasso to assist at a recital of a few cantos of that immortal poem, in the presence of the duke of Ferrara, " in vece," says the abate Serassi, " di unir, come dovea, i suoi applausi a quelli degli altri, ed animare il giovane poeta al compimento di cosi bella opera, si zie stette a sentir questa recita con molta freddezza ; di poi forse per far pompa della sua dottrina gli mosse alcune difficolta con si sottile artificio, che il povero Tasso fu in quell' instante quasi in procinto d' abbandonare V impresa." This disgraceful circumstance is alluded to with a delicacy which Speroni did not deserve, in Atto I. So. 2. of the Aminta. After describing the court of Ferrara, Tasso, in the assumed character of Thyrsis pro- ceeds : Vidi Febo, e le mufe, e frale mufe Elpin seder accolto ; ed in quel punto Sentii me far di me stcsso maggiore ; Pien di nova virtu, pieno di nova Deitadcj e cantai guerre ed eroi, Sdegnando pastoral ruvido carme. E, sebben poi (come altrui piacque) feci Ritorno a queste selve, io pur ritenni Parte di quelle spirto : ne gia suona L La 74, HISTORICAL MEMOIR La niia sampogna umil, come soleva ; Ma di voce piu altera, e piii sonora, Emula delle trombe, empie le selve. Udimmi Mopso poscia, econ maligno Guardo mirando afFascinommi j end' io Roco divenni, e poi gran tempo tacqui : Quando i pastor' credean ch' io fossi stato Visto dal lupo ; e' 1 lupo era costui. Apollo and the Muses there I saw. With heavenly sounds enchanting mortal ear. Among the Muses was Elpinus seated, Elpinus high in fame amongst our swains, Spurning my ruftic diffidence, to think The fortune of Elpinus might be mine. And wak'd to rapture I had never known. My fancy heated with surrounding objeds, 1 raised my voice, and fung of war and heroes^ My former unaspiring themes disdaining, The shepherd's humble, and unpolish'd lay. And though it was my fate to feek again Thefe woods ; yet still my pipe retains a part Of the bold chara£ler which then I caught ; It sounds not weak, but with a martial tone. And makes the astonilh'd woods and. vallies ring. The envious Mopfus heard my epic strain. And view'd me with malign, bewitching eye : With hoarseness I was smit ; and., for a time, I could ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. I could not fpeak : the neighbouring shepherds thought A wolf had seen me ; — but the wolf was he. [h) Stockdale. (/) Yet, had the father of Tasso taken Speroni to his heart, committed to him the correction of his Amadigi, and the education of his son, and, upon all occasions, spoke of his works with enthusiastic praise. Apologising to a friend, for omitting to write to him, he says, he was prevented ( b ) The classical reader need not be told, that a notion obtained amongst the anticnts, that if a wolf saw any man first, it deprived him of his voice fur the present. ViJe, Thtocri- tns. Id. xiv. Virgil, Eel. ix. This notion still prevails in Italy. And it is probable that the disease which the ancient Irilh c;illed Lycanthropia, had its origin in the same sujicrftition.' S^insir's Vic-M of ike Stale of Inlatid. p, 22 i of his W)rks. LmJ. i6-jg. { /■ ) I have not only taken the liberty of borrowing, but of pruning Mr. Stockdale's trans- lation of this paflage ; for I found it abounding in tliose " sentiments and lines of his own," which he acknowledges to have added in some places of his trausl-uijn. {Pief. p. J5) How- ever, he atones for this liberty by his candour and his modefty. " They whj arc curious," says he, " to be acquainted with Taffo himself, will read the original j and they who are not may, pethaps, be satisfied with my translation." We are therefore authorised to deem hij work rather an imitation than a translation. Viewing it in this light, (and in this point of view it has considerable merit), we mull still consider a faithful version of the Aminta, illustrated with notes, as a desideratum in Englilh literature. Amongst other qualifications indispensably necessary for such an undertaking, we may reckon an intimate acquaintance with the secret history of the court of Ferrara, and a topographical knowledge of that city, and its vicinity. Had Mr. Stockdale possessed these qualifications, he would not have seemed to consider Elpinus and Mopsus as ideal personages, or have described the ifland of Belvedere as a " peninsula in a meadow ;" neither would he have omitted to inform his readers, that the author is disguised under the character of Tliyrsis, or that he makes Amyntas express his own amorous suiFerings, and utter complaints of the cruelty of his mistress, Leonora, who appears to be Ihadowed under the character of Sylvia. Would it be refining too much to suppose that the arguments offered by Daphne in favour of the delights of love, were in- tended to pierce the breast of Leonora ? " The Aminta," says Gibbon, " was written for the amusement; and acted in the presence of Alphonso II. and his sister Leonora might ap- ply to herself the language of a passion which disordered the reason, without clouding tlie ge- nbs of her poetical lover." L 2 from lo 76 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, from doing so, by a visit from Speroni, " che potrebbe -'• , far' aspettar gli angeli che andassero in paradiso." (^) And, in a letter to Speroni himself, he urges him to fa- vour him with a visit, adding, with great elegance, " leave Padua to sigh your absence for a few days." (/) Indeed, such was the respect and esteem in which Speroni was held in that city, that his absence, however short, must al- ways have occasioned regret. The great Italian epic him- self, in his Discorsi Poetici,(w) has left us a lively picture of Speroni, surrounded with his pupils and his friends, eagerly imbibing the stream of eloquence, which flov/ed from the lips of this literary Nestor. His apartment in the university of Padua often reminded him, he says, of the academies in which Socrates and Plato presided. " Mi rappresentasse la sembianza di quella academia, e di quel liceo, in cui i Socra- ti, e i Platoni haveano in uso di disputare.'' Speroni died on the third of June, 1588, in the eightieth year of his age.(n) About this time flourished Giambattista Giraldi Cinthio, to whose novels our Shakspeare has many obligations. The fruitful invention of this author produced nine tragedies. L'Orbecche, the best, and, I may add, the bloodiest of these, was composed in two months, and represented (1541), with (k) Le Lett, di B, Tasso. Ven, 1570. /. 54. (/) IbiJ.p.J^i. [m) Vai. t;2-j.J,.g. («) A portrait of Speroni hangs amongst the " portraits des corridors," in the gallt-ry of the Grand Duke, in Florence, In the excellent desaiption of this gallery, by the Abate Zacthiroli, [,inzzo, 1790,) Speroni bears the honourable title of '• raaitre du Tasse." splendid ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. >j'j splendid scenical decorations, before Hercules II. duke of Fer-.S'£6T. rara, in the house of the author; (o) — a presumptive proof, ^■ (did we require one) that Cinthio was not stimulated to write by the clamours of an hungry muse. I shall sele6l one pas- sage from this tragedy, to show the author's happy powers in describing scenes of horror. Glace nel fondo di quest' alta torre In parte si soHnga e si riposta Che non vi giunge mai raggio di sole, Un Juogo destinato a' sacrifici, Che soglion farsi da' re nostri all' ombre A Proserpina irata, al fier Plutone, Ove non pur la tenebrosa notte. Ma il piu orribile orrore ha la sua sede. Low in the bosom of this lofty pile In gloomy loneliness sequester'd deep, Unvisited by sun beam, or by star, A place there lies for dire oblations made. Which, to the ghosts of our departed kings. To the pale queen of Hades, and her lord. Are offer'd duly. There, not only night, (o) It was afterwards represented in tlie presence of Cardinal Salviati, and the Cardinal of Ravenna, altered (at the suggestion of a Greek in the service of the former) according to the Greek model : but, not pleasing in that form, it was restored to the one which it originally wore; and printed, 1551, in Venice, per ilGioliio, iimo. Another edition was published in the same city, 1^60, j>er T. Lorenzini. But 78 HISTORICAL MEMOIR But the magnificence of horror, holds Her court in dreadful pomp. Descriptions of equal beauty may be found in tlie other dramas of our author; and, though he may have sometimes failed in the conduct of his fables, and in the discrimination of character, it must be allowed, that his tragedies would fur- nish materials for a large body of morality, particularly his chorusses, which not only abound in all the graces of lyric poetry, but in divine truths and moral sentiments. They are streams of rich ore rolling through hanging groves, smiling meads, and romantic vallies. I will instance the chorusses, which close the first act of the Cleopatra, and the second act of the Arrenopia, and the fine ode in the Euphimia, be- ginning, Se nube 1' aria copre Talhora, appar poscia anco. Qua] pria, sereno il sole, &c. But let us return to the Orbecche, in order to notice the great excellence of the scene between the king and his mi- nister, in Atto iii. *' Me paroit " says Riccoboni, " un chef- d'oeuvre. " Je puis me tromper; mais selon mon gout, je crois qu'elle peut se comparer a tout ce qu'il y a de meilleur chez les anciens et les modernes." This scene, on an attentive perusal, afforded me so much pleasure, that I felt, for a mo- ment, inclined to subscribe to the opinion of Riccoboni, how- ever ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. ^9 ever extravagant it may appear. I wish I could dwel], with SECT. equal pleasure, on the conduct of the plot. But we recoil with horror from the streams of blood which deluge the stage, during the concluding scenes of this tragedy. (/>) Before we part with the Orbecche, it will be necessary to observe, that it was the first Italian tragedy, of which the PROLOGUE (/)*) did not constitute the first aft. This is no- ticed by the author himself, in the beginning of the prologue. Esserc non vi dec di maraviglia, Spettatori, che qui venuto io sia, Prima d'ognun, col prologo diviso Dalle parti, che son nella tragedia. Let it not move your wonder, gentle friends, That here I come, slighting a law, confirm'd By hoary usage, a prologue to recite, f/) This tragedy was represented, in ballo, in Naples, in the year 1783, and drew large audiences. A gentleman, who assisted at the representation, remembers, with horror, the successive deaths of Orbecche, her husband, her father, and her children, and the bloody display of the head and hands of Orontes on a reeking table! Yet, in number and barbarity of shacking spectacles, the Orbecche must yield to Titus Andronicus, a play, which was received with applause on the English stage in the days of Queen Elizabeth, and endured in the reign of Charles II. {/*) But the epilogue, which the tragic writers affected to despise, was adopted by the co- mic poets, and employed, in all ages of the Italian stage, either to solicit the applause of the audience in general, or the protection of the fair in particular. In the epilogue to the Amor Constante of Aless. Piccolomini fFe/t. i Jjo^, the ladies are requested to exercise their scissars upon the to.ngues of such of their male acquaintances as should dare to censure the comedy. " Se quest' huomini dicon male de la nostra comedia, mordeteli la lingua con un paio di forbici de la vostra paneruza da cucire." From So HISTORICAL MEMOIR Fio:ti the main subject of our tragic play. Wholly distinct. Aristotle defines the prologue, " that entire part of the tragedy, which precedes the parode, or first entrance of the chorus." In fact, it was usually the argument of the piece, unfolding, we may say, all the secrets of the fable, and thus weakening, in a great degree, the intended effect of the peri- petia, discovery, and pathos. Though the exam.ple set by Cinthio was followed by succeeding writers, the prologue long continued to anticipate the plot aiid its solution. I am inclined to think, but I shall not venture to assert, that the EPILOGUE, as well as the Prologue, owes its inde- pendence to Cinthio : for, after the action of the Orbecche is finished, and the moral delivered by the chorus, Tragedy appears, and enters into an elaborate defence of the author's deviations from the common usage of the Italian stage ; and ex- patiates on the merits of the several writers, who had preceded him in the same department of letters. This appendage to the tragic drama does not, however, seem to have been re- lished ; at least, it was not adopted by the tragic writers who followed our author. Led by the spirit of innovation, or impelled by the noble daring of genius, Cinthio proceeded still farther. Approving of the occasional suspension of the fable, which prevailed on the Roman stage, he departed from the Greek model, so ser- vilely followed by Trissino and his admirers, and recom- mended ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 8t mended, by precept and example, the divisions of ACTS and SECT. SCENES. ^_^ On a careful review of Cinthio's tragedies, it appears to me, that he adheres closely to general nature, but is in- different to distinctions superinduced and adventitious. Though his scenes are occasionally laid in England and Ire- land, Greece and Egypt, we do not recognize the natives of those countries in any of his dramas. His story requires Englishmen or Irishmen, Greeks or Egyptians; but " he only thinks on men." Neither does he attempt to localize his scenes : when he tells us the scene " e in Corintho", " in Londra", or " in Limerico, citta nobile d' Hibernia", we look around us in vain for topographical proofs of our being in Corinth, in London, or in the noble city of Limerick, " Gi- raldi Cinthio," says Rymer, " was a writer of tragedies ; and to that use employed such of his tales as he judged proper for tfce stage." This is literally true. If, therefore, Cinthio was the inventor of the tales in his Hecatommithi, we may consider him as the first Italian writer who feigned the fables of his own dramas; and, if we may rely on the assertion of his son, he was the inventor of the PASTORAL DRAMA. " Giovambattista Giraldi," says he, " fu il primo fra poeti toschi, che cantasse Boscareccie Favole, e piacevoli amori di semplici pastori e vaghe ninfe," But if the Egle was not written a considerable time before it was represented (154^) in the presence of Hercules II. duke of Este, his claim to that M honor 82 . HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, honor may be disputed. (9) We shall now proceed to de- s^,^ , tail such notices of this prolific writer as we have col- lected. Giambattista Giraldi Cinthio was born (1504) in Ferrara. His youth seems to have been divided between literature and love. In a letter to Cardinal Bembo, he says, " io haveva anco pigliato baldanza di mandarvi certi miei sonetti e can- zoni da mecomposti, mentre ne miei primi anni arsi d'amo- roso fuoco." The little poems alluded to, were, I presume, his Fiamme Amorose. His motive for sending these juvenile effusions to the cardinal was, at least, modest : " accioche essi da lucidissimi raggi del vostro lume, tanto di splendore pigliassero," says the courtly poet, " che le tenebre loro fos- sero dalla vostra charissima luce fatte chiare e serene, et a me ne tornassero de neri et oscuri, candidi e lucenti." Such was the fulsome flattery of the day! — But Bembo was a poet, a (y) It is asserted by Moieri, that Tasso " a etc !e premier qui ait introduit lea bergers sur le theatre." Die/, hist. Uit. T. But the shepherds of Tansillo trod the stage several years before the birth of Tasso. Tasso was born in 154-3; and, according to Maurolico, a dramatic pastoral, by Luigi Pansillo, was represented, with great magnificence, at Messina, ill 1539. It should, perhaps, be observed, that, as Mauiolico has not given the name of this pastoral drama, he is supposed to mean I due PeUcgrini, a simple eclogue, by the sam;; au- thor. That this eclogue, however, was intended for the stage, is evident, from the following stage direction ; " Qui canta il coro, aggiunta del cappriccioso." The Abate Serassi men- tions three pastoral dramas, that were publicly represented, before the Aminta was written. See his preface to Bodoni's edit, of the Aminta, Cusp, 1789. But, if the date of la Flori, given by Fontanici, be correct, the palm is probably due to MadJalena Campigiia. Eloj. Ital. Ven, i"]!-],/!. 6y critic. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 83 critic, and a munificent patron. (/■) When the amorous SECT. flame of our author was nearly extinguished, lie engaged in . ^ . philosophical pursuits, and succeeded (1540) Celio Calcag- nino, as public professor of humanity, in his native c\\.y. About the same time he was elected a member of the Accade- mia dagli Affidati of Pavia, under the name of Cinthio, (i) a name in which that of his family has sunk. Cinthio is re- membered, but Giraldi is forgotten. Besides the Orbecche, as we have already observed, Cinthio wrote eight other trage- dies, viz. la Didone, gli Antivalomeni, la Cleopatra, I'Areno- pia, I'Altile, TEufimia, la Selene, and la Epitia. But his fame seems to rest upon gli Hecatommithi, and the Orbecche. His Egle, though the style is praised by Baretti, was, I be- (>■) If Bembo does not rank with the first orJer of Italian poets, his historical and critical pioductions must ever endear his name to the lovers of Italian literature. His dialogues " nelle quali si ragiona della volgar lingua," have been seldom surpassed in beauty and pu- rity of diciion, or in depth and justness of criticism. On this little work, which consists of only two hundred and ihirty-two pages in octavo, ('2n • Ercolo had sunk, by its own weight, into obscurity. In the dedication to the Orbecche, he complains of " t morsi della invidia, la quale come nemico armato sta sempre co' denti fuori per mordere e lacerare clii scrive ;" and, in the same dedication, he has preserved the name of the projector and artificer of the little theatre in which his tragedy was repre- sented, and also of the principal performer. After saying that he was urged to undertake the Orbecche, by his friend Girolamo Maria Contugo, " gentilissimo giovane, ed ornate di molte virtu; he adds, " composta dunque ch'io ebbi questa tragedia, che fu in meno di due mesi, avendole gia pa- rata in casa mia il detto M. Girolamo sontuosa, ed onorevole scena, fu rappresentata da M. Sebastiano Clarignano da Mon- tefalco, il quale, si puote sicuramente dire il Roscio, e TEsopo de' nostri tempi. "(5*) In the year 1569 our author died, in the city which gave him birth : and he has been recorded by Baruffaldi, in his history of the poets of Ferrara, as " non musarum alumnus, sed filius;" and, by Tasso and Guarini, he is numbered with the sweet swans of the Po. About eight years after the appearance of the Orbecche, the Orazia of Pietro Aretino was published in Venice, dedi- (j*) Riccoboni, in his examen of this tragedy, honorably notices Clarignano, " II f;iut croirc," says he, " que ce Clarignano da Montefalco, a etc un grand comedien. On en fait mention avec les mcmcs eloges dans Ics impressions d'autres comedies reprcbentees a la cour du due d'Urbin. II seuiblc que les auteurs de ce tems-!a se faisoient honneur dc faire s^a- voir que Icurs ouvragcs de theatre avoient cte reprcsentes par lui." torn. il. />. 73.] cated ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 85 eated to Paul III. To Aretino then is due the honor, SECT. claimed by the Frencli, of introducing the valorous deeds of , ^ , the Horatii upon the stage ; a subject which is recommended to oar notice by Livy. This tragedy is praised for its regu- larity, the happy management of its situations, and the nice discrimination of its characters. It is divided into five acts, and enriched with moral inferences and observations, deli- vered, by a chorus in brief sententious precepts. Baretti, speaking of the Orazia, says, " this is a tolerable performance of the celebrated Aretino ; at least, there is no- thing immoral in it, as in almost all his other numerous works.'' He might have added, that, on the contrary, it con- tains some passages, which breathe a spirit of piety. I shall transcribe one. II valore de 1' asta c de la spada E II timore del riti e de le pene Non tiene in alto le cittadi magna, Come la riverenza e 1' osservanza De la religione e degl' iddii. But the following lines are unworthy the author. Fattor degli astri larghi e degli avari, Che neir empiree logge affiggi 11 trono Del Yolubil coUegio de' pianeti. It 86 HISTORICAL MEMOIR It should not be forgotten, that Fame delivers a prologue to the Orazia, in which she celebrates the talents, and the private and public virtues of several noble Italian families.; a mode of adulation, [t) invented, or first introduced, by Aretino, and the origin, perhaps, of the Licenza of the mo- dern opera. Pietro Aretino was the natural son of Luigi Bacci, a gen- tleman of Arezzo. From the place of his nativity he was sent, while a youth, to Bologna, wdiere he assisted, for some time, in the shop of a bookseller. Visiting Rome, under the pontificate of Leo X, he incurred the censure of the church, by the obscenity and profanity of his writings. («) Obli- ged to fly, he took refuge in Venice, where he died (1550), at an advanced age, despised and neglected. During the course {1) This is the opinion of ihc author of j'/'sr. (/(//ca/c/. /OOT. iii./. 121. But perhaps San- nazaro may dispute with Aretino the invention of this public mode of offering incense to the great : for, in a farsa, or masque, by this charming poet, which was represented in the pre- sence of Alfonso, duke of Calabria, on the 4th of March, 1492, in the hall of the Castel Ca- puano (ihe present Vicaria) of Naples, Faith apostrophises Ferdinand I. in a strain of elegant flattery. Ste Rime i\ih]oined to I' JnaJia. No^. 17S2. In the Orfeo of Politiano also we find a beautiful Latin ode, in which the Theban bard is introduced, singing the praises of Gonzaga, cardinal of Mantua, for whose graiification, sa}s Mr. Roscoe, this drama was written, and in whose presence it was performed. This ode was afterwards superseded by the verses in praise of Hercules, which gave birth to the infiuit Hercules of Sir Joshua Rey- nolds. Riccoboni, who had never seen the Orfeo, gives it a place in his collection of Italian tragedies, and refers its first appearance to the year 1524, though it was published before the death of the author, which happened in 1494. («) In a painting of the Last Supper, which hangs near the great altar in the church of San Luca, in Venice, Aretino is represented standing ; he is distinguished by a large beard. If theiC ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 87 course of his various life, he assumed dillerent titles ; — some- SECT. times he called himself " il flagello dc' principi/' — some- ^ ' , times, " il divino Aretino." At length he became a prey to remorse. Amongst his acts of contrition, may be numbered his paraphrase of seven psalms, which are, siiys Crescimbeni, worthy to be read and admired. Amidst his debaucheries at Venice, he had the hardiness to solicit from Cardinal Bembo, through the medium of his friend Lodovico Dolce, a recom- mendatory sonnet for his Sirena;(?y) and, in the following year, we find him addressing a letter to the same cardinal, in which there is a passage, so grossly indelicate, that the eye of modesty turns away from it with disgust. Yet Dolce, in his letter to the Cardinal, speaks of the affection which he (Bembo) bears to Aretino ; and the Cardinal himself, in a let- ter from Padua, tells him, that he loves and honours his per- there be any truth in the epitaph, written for his tomb, by president Mainard, the painter Was guilty of a great impropriety, in introducing him into such company. Condit Aretini cinercs lapis iste sepiiltos, Mortales atro qui sale perfricuit. Intactus Deus est illi : causamque rogntiis, Hanc dedit; ille, inquit, non mihi notus erat. Qiil giace I'Aretin poeta tosco, Che dog'n'un disse nial, fuor di Die ; Scusandosi con dir; " non lo conotco." Both M. Misson and Mad. du Boccage give each a translation of this famous epigrammatic epitaph, but neither has preserved the spirit. ("v) L(ll, da drjcni ;<■, et prindpl el cardiitali et ahri, l£c, a m, P. Bemlo. yen, 1 560. 'vol. i, son : 88 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, son : but our business is with the poet, not the man. I ^_^ shall therefore dash his character with a single stroke, and then dismiss him. En talent 11 n'eut point d'egal, II n'cn eut point en infamie. Lodovico Dolce, the contemporary and friend of Aretino, published, in 1566, a large collection of tragedies, composed of materials, drawn from the Greek and Roman stage; but his character, as a dramatic writer, derives all its lustre from his Didone and his Marianna; (j) the latter of which was re- presented (1565) for the first time, in Venice, to an audience of three hundred persons, upon a stage, erected in the palace of Sebastiano Erizzo, an accomplished nobleman of that city ;(2;) and, when an attempt was afterwards made to repre- sent it in Ferrara, in the palace of the Grand Duke, the con- course of spectators was so great, that the performance could (y) It would seem, not only from the success of Dolce's play, but from the favourable re- ception which el Tetrarca de Jerusalen of Calderon, and the Mariamne of Fenton, met with from the public, that this subject is peculiarly adapted to the stage; indeed, dramas, whose op'ning scenes disclose Historic truth, and swell with real woes, could hardly fail of enthralling attention, either in the closet or on the stage. If THerode of Htinsius did not please on the French stage, it was, says a French critic, " parcequ'il est sans amour." But the subject was restored to public favour by Tristan and Voltaire. (z) Sebastiano Erizzo, says Atanagi, was " un gentilhuomo venetiano honorato, e come I'opere sue testificano, buon, filosofo platonico, e buon poeta." Some of his sonnets are given in Rime di diver, nobil. poet, toscani. torn, ii. and a list of his critical and philosophical works may be found in Mem. de' serin. i>en. Vtn. 1744, /. 32. not ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 89 not proceed. But the Didone {a) docs not appear to liave SECT. met with the same SLiccess: and we are told, that, at its se- ' . cond representation, an accident happened, which gave the author great pain, and made him regret, that the play had ever seen the light. Of the nature of this accident we are ig- norant; but the fact itself is, it may be presumed, unquestion- able, as the circumstance is related by Tiberio d'Armano, the actor that performed the part of the god of love, who dis- guised as Ascanius, recites the prologue. Riccoboni, who has analysed this tragedy, censures the poet, for announcing the appearance of the shade of Sicarus ; but he acknowledges, that the character of i^neas is " conserve a merveille ;" and bestows warm praise on the language of the piece. " La diction me paroit parfaite ; la douceur et la majestc y regnent toujours, il n'y a pas une parole qu'on puisse lui reprocher, soit pour les sentimens, pour la morale, ou pour la politique, tout repond a la dignite tragique sans s'elever aux nues, et sans descendre trop bas." He proceeds; " enfin je pense que si cette tragedie etoit traduite dans une autre langue, elle ne perdroit riendans sa traduction, et que les nations les plus ac- coiatumees a entendre les pensees, et les expressions les plus elevees, gouteroient la diction de cette tragedie." In the ca- tastrophe of his heroine, Dolce follows Virgil ; but there is something more awful in her manner of preparing for death, (a) This tragedy first appeared in Venice, 1547, beautifully printed in cam ie figUdi ii Alio, N in ^o HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, in the Italian drama, than in the noble poem of the Mantuan w-y™^ bard. Poi, che di grass€ tede, e d'altri legni, Atti a presto avampar d'ardenti fiammCj, Anna compose I'infelice rogo, (Com' ordinate havea I'affliita Dido) Del granpalazzo in piu secreta parte Et poi, che fur distese le ghirlande, Et di funebri rami il luogo cinto ; Vi pose sopra di quel fier la spada, I panni, e'l letto, ove gia tante volte L'un petto a I'altro fu congiunto, e strecto: Et I'imagin di lui vi pose anchora, Stavan d'intorno i consacrati altari A Proserpina, a Giove, ed a Plutone. Quivi CO i bianchi crin scioiti la maga, Terribile a guardar, subito apparse : Laqual tra poco con horribil voce Chiamo quanti son dei la su ncl cielOi Et quanti spiriti van per I'aria errando^ 1 dij d'inferno, I'hcrebo, et I'immenso Giaos, Hecate, et scco parimente De la vergine dea thiamoi tre volti. Poi' si parti la maga, e ando ccrcando, Dovdnque piacque a lei, veneni et herbe. Of Lodovico Dolce little is known that can be related with pleasure. Born in poverty, he lived and died in indi- gence; ON ITx\LIAN TRAGEDY. 91 gence ; and the greater part of his life was embittered by li- SECT. terary warfare. His biographers speak with wonder of tiie . early maturity and universality of his genius; and the mild- ness with which he treats, in many parts of his works, his malignant adversary Girolanio Ruscelli merits the praise which they bestow upon it. Dolce died in the sixtieth year of his age, and was buried in the churcli of San Luca, in his native city of Venice, near his friend Aretino, and his adver- sary Ruscelli. Besides the tragedies already mentioned, our author published a translation of the tragedies of Seneca, (6) whose coldness we may sometimes perceive creeping through his original dramas. To study Seneca is to touch the tor- pedo. In his paraphrase of the sixth satire of Juvenal, and in the Epithalamiodi Catullo nelle nozze di Peleo et di The- ti,(c) he has preserved the spirit of his originals. The for- mer is prefaced, with a short letter of delicate and elegant compliment, to Titian the painter. In a little volume, con- taining those two pieces, now lying before me, I find a Dia- logo del modo di tor moglie,((5?) which had probably been read by Milton, as the following eulogy on matrimony may be traced in the beautiful apostrophe to wedded-love, in the (b) The first edition of this translation is that of Venice, 1560. It is dedicated to Giro- lamo Faleti, Ambassador from the court of Ferrara, to the republic of Venice. (f) Printed at I'enke, in i 938, by Curtio Nave e fraulli. {ifj This dialogue opens witli a beautiful description of the vicinity of Bologna. It is addressed to Federico Badoaro, in 9. prefatory epistle, which concludes in this singular manner: " Con quella alfettione, che e secretariadcjl'animo vi bascio la vertuosa mano." N 3 fourth 92 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, fourth book of the Paradise Lost: " O matnmonio felice e san- . , ^' , to s'io havesse parole uguali a le tue lode mai di commendarti non se ne vedrebbe stanca la voce mia. Per te e per mai sempre la vita gioiosa e lieta: per te gli' huomini si fanno sempiterni e gloriosi. Viva dunque, viva il matrimonio: e chi disidera di vivere e morire contento e beato elegga per il vero e unico mezzo il matrimonio." Of the dramatic labours of our author, II capitano [e) and la Hecuba still remain tO' be noticed ; but, as the former is a free translation from Plau- tus, and the latter a faithful version of a tragedy, on the same- subject, by Euripides, I shall not dwell on those pieces. In the dedication to the Hecuba, (/) Dolce pathetically alludes- to the misfortunes of his life. His Giocasta I have not seen ; but I have read, with pleasure, an elegant tribute to his ge- nius and learning, by Benedetto Guidi, in a sonnet, be- ginmng, Fra mille dotti, et honorati ingcgni. Several other writers of tragedy flourished at the same^ time with Dolce; but, as their productions have not given: much celebrity to their names, we shall pass them by in si- lence, and proceed to notice the Soldato (^) of Angelo Leo- nico, a native of Genoa, published at Venice, in 1550. This^. (e) Ven. 1547. Con la favola d'Adone novamente corretta, et ristainpats. {/) ^'«' '543- ' \g\ Pir. Comin. del Trino. This tragedy is written in blank verse. The continuator of the Drammaturgia attributes a tragedy entitled Daria, to Leonico ; an error into which he- was led by Fontanini. Daria is the name of a principal petsonage in the Soldato. drama. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 93 drama is supposed to have given rise to the TRAGEDIA ^^Cr. CITTADINA,(/') or domestic tragedy, a species of drama ' . which has been so often and, so siiccessfiilly imitated by tlie Enghsh, French, and Germans ; but has, as yet, found few imitators amongst the Italians. This, however, should not excite our sui-prise; for the Italians had learned from the an- cients, the masters under whom they studied, that the tragic muse should always appear clad in imperial purple. Another species of tragedy, (if I may so term it) was in- vented in this age; I mean the PROSE TRAGEDY, or Drame. According to Baretti, the first Italian tragedy in prose, was the Tamar of Giambattista de Velo, which ap- peared in Vicenza, 1586. Riccoboni, who never saw this tra- gedy, erroneously observes, that the Cianippo of Agostino Michelle, which was printed in Bergamo in 1596, was tlie first and only prose tragedy of this age.(/) It was probably to prepare the public for the reception of this drama, that the author published in Venice, 1592, " Discorso, in cui si mostra, come si possano scriver con molta lode, le comedie, e le trage- die in prosa." We are, perhaps, indebted for this discourse to La Forza del Fato, overo il Matrimonio nella morte, a (y&) The French, literally translating the Italian denomination, call this species of drama " tragedie bourgeoise." The Dutch follow their example. Of this, an instance occurs in Sir C. Van Hoogeveen's tragftfy on the death of Calas, a drama, written immediately after the melancholy event upon which it is founded, and dedicated to the widow and children of the unfortunate hero of the piece. (;) Hist, du theatre Ital, torn, i. f. lop. prose- Si HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, prose composition, denominated OPERA TRAGICA DI ^^Jl_,LIETO FINE,(/^) published in 164,2, by Giacint' Andrea Cicognini, who is said, by Crescirabeni, to be the inventor - of this equivocal species of drama. (/) In Riccoboni's Catalogue des tragedies Italiennes, the drama which ranks next, in chronological order, to the Cia- nippo, is Delia Passione di nostro Signor Giesu Christo, But may we not ask, how it got there? For this drama was written by Giuliano Dati, Bishop of San Leo, who flou- rished about the year 1445; and is supposed to be one of the first speaking dramas in the Italian language. It has, there- fore, been unjustly degraded by Riccoboni : it should have stood at the head of his list, or have been totally omitted, as unworthy a place amongst the genuine effusions of the tragic muse. Lideed, Riccoboni has apologised for noticing it; " Ouoique je me sols determine a ne mettre dans mon cata- logue aucunes des representations sacrees que nous avons en tres-grand nombre, je n'ai pas voulu manquer pourtant d'y in- serer, celle-ci, parceque les circonstances en sont remarqua- bles. Les representations de la passion de Jesus Christ et des martyrs, etoient representees communement dans des eglises et cela se faisoit la semaine de la passion, et la se- maine sainte. Celle que je rapporte ici fut representee le (if) f^en. per WcoU t'ezzatta. The prologue to this piece, lilce the Loas of the Spaniards^ is a dialogue in verse. The interlocutors are, Cupid, Mercury, and Death, (/} Delia volg. poesia, torn. v. j), iSj;. jeudi- ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 95 jeucli-saint dans Tainphitheatre (of Rome); on ne S9ait point SECT. en quelle annde," Had Riccoboni been a little more sedulous, ' , in his enquiries, he might have discovered, that this drama continued to be represented in the colisoeum, during a long series of years; and that, in open contempt of the unities of Aristotle, it begins with the last supper, and ends with the crucifixion. But let us dismiss tliis unworthy offspring of the tragic muse, and hasten to II Torrismondo of the immortal Tasso, a production that sheds lustre on the period before us. This noble tragedy, which, according to the abate Serassi, was not only written without the aid of the books (w) necessary to assist in con- structing the fable, in embellishing tlie subject, or in firing the genius of the author, but, amidst a variety of distractions, in " sickness and in sorrow," is yet allowed to rank with the happiest effusions of Melpomene. " II Torrismondo del Tasso," says Crescimbeni, " tra le piii scelte tragedie larga- mente risplende." However, wc must not conceal, that there are several passages in this tragedy disgraced with con- ceits, and that some of the descriptions are too diffuse; but (m) Tasso, ill his letters, often complains to his friends of the want of booki;, particularly during his confinement in St. Anne's, where he was even sometimes denied pen, ink, an,l paper, and often left in total darkness uliien -the sun withdre\i' its beans from the grate of his dungeon. A sonnet, addressed to Iiis cat, is preserved, in which he begs she will in- dulge him with the light of her eyes, in order that he might finish a poem, on which he was^ then einplojed. The sonnet concludes thus : Fateroi luce ascrivcr qucsti carmi. the S6 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, the vivid colouring, which glows in the description of the . • . nocturnal inquietudes of Alvida, and in that of her death, casts a ray of dazzling brilliancy over all the faults of this piece. I shall transcribe the first of those celebrated pas- sages. Un non so che d'infausto, o pur d'orrendo Ch' a me confonde, un mio pensier dolente, Lo qual mi sveglia, e mi perturba, e m' angc La notte, e'i giorno. Oime! gia mai non chiudo Queste luci gia stanche in breve sonno, Ch'a me forme d'orrore, e di spavento II sogno non presenti; ed or mi sembra, Che del fianco mi sia rapito a forza 11 caro sposo, e senza lui solinga Gir per via lunga, e tenebrosa errando. Or le mura scillar, sudare i marmi, Miro, o credo mirar, di negro sangue. Or da le tombe antiche, ove sepolte L'alte regine fur di questo regno, Uscir gran simolacro, e gran rimbombo; Quasi d'un gran gigante, il qual rivolga Incontra al ciel Olimpo, e Pelia, et Ossa, E mi scacci dal letto e mi dimostri. Perch 'io vi fugga da sanguigna sferza, Una orrida spelunca, e dietro al varco Poscia mi chiuda, onde, s'io temo il sonno, E la quiete, anzi I'orribil guerra. De' notturni fantasmi a I'aria fosca. A namclss ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 97 A nameless horror chills my faculties, Whose unknown cause is far beyond the ken Of scar'd imagination. Sorrow's hand Blends her confusion o'er the dismal scene. Night follows days,— in vain; — for present still It harrows up my soul : before my eyes. Or to my wakeful tancy when I doze. Still frowns the hideous prospect. Now, it seems My faithful spouse is sever'd from my side. And leaves me wand'ring thro' a boundless gloom. And oft by day the melancholy walls And figur'd marbles seem to blush with gore And often from the old imperial tombs. Where sleep the consorts of Norwegian kings. Rushes the giant spectre with a noise As when .(^gaeon storm'd the walls of heaven. And launch'd Olympus at the wond'ring stars. He frights me from my couch, and points below A drear asylum, gloomy and profound ; And, lest I should retreat, with menace loud Secures the pass behind. It is not sleep. But those tremendous forms that people night, 1 dread. Here, indeed, we discover the author of the Gerusalemme Liberata. Nor is his hand less evident in the chorus to the first act, which, he confesses to a friend, cost him many a sleepless night. The mysterious replies of Indovino to the O ardent gS HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, ardent enquiries of Torrismondo, prepare the mind fur the ^__^__, catastrophe, at the same time that they seem to invest it with a darker cloud ;(w*) and, while the horrors of the plot are thickening fast, Rosmonda's description (?i) of the abode of the enchantress in the wilds of Dacia, where Alvida lay so long concealed, has the happy effect of what is termed, by landscape-painters, a repose. Appresso un antro, Che molte sedi ha di polito sasso, E di pumice rara oscure celle Dentro non. sol, ma bel teatro, e tempio, E' tra pendenti rupi alte colone, Ombroso, venerabile, secreto. Ma lieto il fanno I'erbe, e lieto i fonti, E Tedere seguaci, e i pini, e i faggi,. Tessendo i rami, e le perpetue fronde. Si ch'entrar non vi possa il caJdo raggio. Ne le parti medesme entro la selva {m*) If the fable of this tragedy has any foundation in history, it must have been Scjjtta ne'i libri, ch' arsero in Egitto, for now it cannot be discovered in any work extant. Yet the authordoes not employ either of • the previous preparations, customary in his time, of argument or prologue; though he seems to recommend the use of the latter, on such occasions, in a letter to the patriarch of Jerusa- lem, dated " de Ferrara il 3 d'Aprile, 1576." The prologue, says he, " deve, a mio giuditio, conformarsi, se non ncl nome, almeno nell' offitio, e negli effetti, la parte dell' epo- pcia, ch' e prima in ordine, et in essa devono farsi tutte le narrationi delle cose passate, (se - pero alcuna particolar ragione no'l vieta) e dirsi tutto cio, che parvc per introduction della favola, e per maggior chiarezxa delle cose, c' hanno a seguitare." (?/) Jet iv. Scffie 3. Sorge ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 99 Sorge un palagio al re tra i vcrdi chiostri Ivi tua suora, et io giacemmo in culla. But it is justly observed, both by Manso(o) and Me- nage,(/'j that the last act is inferior to the preceding parts of the drama. II Guastavini, having ably analysed the fable of this tragedy, concludes his elegant critique with exalting Tasso to the tragic throne. II Torrismondo was first pub- lished in Bergamo in 1587. The dedication to this edition, is a tribute of gratitude, warm from the heart, to Don Vicen- zo, duke of Mantua, [q) a prince of tlie accomplished house of Gonzaga, who had frequently visited Tasso in his prison, softened, by kind offices, the rigour of his confinement, and at length obtained his release. The integrity of my plan may seem to demand a brief re- lation of the eventful and interesting life of Tasso; but what such biographers as Manso and Serassi (r) have related, who would tell again .? Therefore, referring my readers to the nar- (0) Vita di Torq. Tasso. re/i. i-;6(, p. 288. {/) Aminta, con Ic anaor. d' Eg. Managio. Ven. i-jjS, p. jji. (y) Tasso 's gratitude to this young prince was, at length, refined into love. The personal charms of his patron became the favourite theme of the poet. We find him, in a sonnet, telling the prince, that love Posto ha la seggia sua ne 'dolci giri ; and, immediately after, declaring De' bei vostri occhi, e'l tempio ha nel mio core. It was Virgil, singing the praises of Alexis. (r) Mr. Hoole has epitomised, with his usual elegance. Manse's life of Tasso. yerat. Dt- liiier.'vrd. i. But theelaborate and interesting work of Serassi has not yet assumed an English garb. Serassi 's work is common; but the narrative of Manso is so extremely rare, that the O 2 avthor 100 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, narratives of those distinguished writers, I thall proceed to , ' , observe, that, In the same year that the Torrismondo appeared in Ber- gamo, Bernardino Lombardi, (5) a strolling player, basely availing himself of Tasso's expanding fame, published at Paris, under his name, a tragedy, by another author, with the feigned title of La Gismonda. The drama thus disguised was, we are told by Apostolo Zeno, the Tancredi of Federigo Asinari, which was published, with its true title, in the fol- lowing year (1588) in Bergamo, by Comin Ventura. By what accident the manuscript of this excellent tragedy fell into the hands of Lombardi, I have never heard ; nor have I any further notices of the author to communicate but what I learn from Baretti. " Federigo AvSinari, Count of Came- rano, was a native of Asti, a city in Piedmont. He was a poet of reputation in his time; and there are two beautiful medals, struck in honor of him by the famous engraver Lione Aretino." A tragedy bearing the title of La Gismonda, and founded upon the same story of II Trancredi(^) of Asinari, appeared, in author oi Ltltirs of Liieralure is not surprised, that latter biographers only speak of it from re- port. (/. 374.) I am indebted to the friendship of that learned and ingenious gentleman for the copy which I possess. (i) " Lombardi was a comedian by profession, and of much repute, in Italy and France, for his manner of acting." It. Lib. p. 107. He was also author of I'Alchimista, a comedy, printed in Ferrara, 1583. {i) A tragedy, built upon the pathetic talc of Guiscardo and Gismonda, was performed before Qtieen Elizabeth in the year 1563. This play, which was the joint production of ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. loi in 15%, ill Florence,(?0 by Girolamo Razzi, a Florentine; SECT. " il quale argoinento," says Crescimbeni erroneously, " fu »-_,^__> egli il prjmo a trattarlo tragicamente." Ruzzi devoted iiis youth to the composition of dramatic productions; but being seized at length with some religious scruples, he turned friar, and, abandoning all his profane effusions to his friends, re- tired to the monastery degli angeli in his native city, wiiere he died in 1611, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. Though it is asserted, by Crescimbeni that our author " pub- blico alcune commedie ben degne d'ogni lode, avanti che entrasse nella religione," it should seem, from the respective dedications to two of his comedies, (La Gostanza,(z;) and La Cecca(re') now lying before me, that all his dramatic pro- ductions were published, without his concurrence, or perhaps his knowledge, after he had assumed the cowl. five gentlemen of the Inner Temple, was published in 1592. A trageily on the same sub- ject, was written (probably in Latin) by Sir Henry Wotlon, for private representation in Queen's College, Oxford. Though this drama has never been printed, it found its way into Italy, where it was read by the auihor of the Pastor I'ido, " who thought it (says a bio- grapher of M'otton) neither an uncomely, nor an unprofitable employment for his age." Re- liq. ll'oitoit. Load, i6ji. It was probably submitted to the perusal of Guarini, by Sir Henry himself during his residence in Italy. (u) Pel Scrmalelli, Riccoboni carelessly places this drama, as well on his list of comedies as of tragedies. In one catalogue he informs us it is written in prose; in the other, in verse. tern, i.f. II 8, 140. It is in blank vcnc. (ebhcr da me ne 1' alvo pria. This pious office being performed, the queen retires and the chorus conclude the act with an ode. But let us turn away from this scene of horror. We have had " blood enougii." I cannot, however, dispatch this drama without observing, that the scene in which the shades of Acripanda's children appear, announcing their death, and informing their mother that they go before to prepare a seat for her in heaven, evinces a master-hand. It is impossible to read this scene uninoved ; but in representation it must have been deeply and tenderly affecting. ATTO IV. SCENA I. ACRIPANDA, ChORO, OmBRE De' GeMELLI. Omb. O cara mad re, 6 mad re Diletta a i figli tuoi Volei Ic luci a noi. o Acrip. Non so s' odo una voce, 6 parmi udtrla. L' uditc voi vaghe fanciullc ? Chor. Udianla. Acrip. Io pur m' aggiro intorno, Ne veggio ond' esca il suono. Omb. Volgiti madre, e mira Che tuo figlio son' io, tua figlia e qucllaj "^ "" Non ci conosci al volto ? a la favella ? Q 2 Acrip, ii6 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Actip. (Ahi !) ch' io vi miro, e siete I cari miei gemelli. Ma non so, s' io vi mira Io sogno, o s' io son desta» Che fate in quella nube ? MIracoli vegg' io, S' io non vaneggio, e siete Veramente i miei figli. Scendete in questo seno, Perche imprimer' io possa Su ]e guanci vivaci, Affettuosi baci. Omb. In van cerchi baciarne C genetrice amata, Ch' appressandoti a noi Stringer, ed abbracciare Sol' r aura, 6 nulla puoi. Noi siam 1' anime nude De' tuoi fidi gemelli, Che vederti bramiamo Prima, ch' al ciel saliamo. Ma la parte mortal, che tu ne desti Per man crudele ed empia Del re nimico, sotto La gia promessa pace, Su la riva del Nilo Dilacerata glace. Acrip. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 117 Acrip. Spenti voi siete adunque Ed io crudcle anco rimango viva ? Viva rimango ! Omb. ( Ah madre ! ) Spiacer non ti devria Che noi da questa morte, Che voi vita chiamate, N' andiamo a vera vita, E cittadin ne facci La su del mondo eterno Giove, che n' apparecchia Altro scettro, e corona Di quella, che n' havrebbe Un giorno cinto il crine Nel vostro orbe terreno. Hor qual puoi tu maggiore In noi gloria bramare ?. Ecco fra mille, e mille Altre anime innocenti La sovra, ove la sorte Nulla ha potere, e il caso Di tempo in spazio breve Calchera il nostro pie 1' orto, e 1* occaso; Hor non voler co i tuoi Pianti turbar questa quiete in noi. Restati adunque, e lieta Giu ne mondani chiostri,. Vivi gli anni tuoi, madre, e gli anni nostri. Jcrip. ii8 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Acrip. (Ahi !) ahi, dove hor ne gite Sciolti dal mortal velo ? Omb. A' veder preparar tua sedia in cielo. Cho. Hor mira, hor mira come Velocissimamente Ver le stelle volando Fendono 1' aria, e quella Nube fra quelte nubi Sparsa nube diviene. Ho vifto il del la suso, Ch' in un s' e aperto, e chiuso. Aciip. Spariti (alii!) sono (ahil)sono Dileguati da me, qual' al sol nebbia Che debbo for ? die debbo Credere ? (ah) rispondete Verginelle pietose. lol:! Cho. Attonite rimase Non men di te, noi siamo, Non disperar* ancora, Ch' esser falsa 6 reina Illusion potrebbe. AcRiPANDA, Chorus, Ghosts'of the Twins. Ghosts. Thou to whom our birth we owe, ■Lov'd in life, and in the tomb. Turn and hear a tale of woe. Turn and mark thy diildrcns' dodm. Acrtp. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 119 Acrip. Heard I not a solemn strain Rising on the midnight gale ? Yonder — hark ! it comes again. — Did you hear it, virgins, tell ? Cho. We too heard it, Acrip, Round and round Still I turn my aching sight 3 Still I hear the doleful sound. Still the cause is lost in night. Ghosts. See thy daughter ! see thy son ! Thou, to whom our birth we owe. Are those features still unknown. And these kindred sounds of woe ? Acrip. Ha! your mangled forms I view Thro' the parting veil of night ! Is the .hideous vision true ? Does a dream delude my sight ? If I wake, ah tell me why, Hov'ring on yon cloudy car. Thus you come, with fun'i-al cry. Sailing thro' the midnight air ? Why those pageants of tlie tomb In terrific grandeur drest t If ye be my children, — come Share my kiss, arid s^ootbe my breaft. Ghost r. 120 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Ghosts. Learn the law by fate impos'd, Ne'er a mother's kiss to share ; She's a disembodied ghost, I, a form of empty air. Gentle mother, ah refign Fruitless hopes and wiflies vain ; Our cold lips will never join; No embraces soothe your pain. Yet before each mounting mind Sought the beaming orbs above. Hither down our flight declin'd To discharge a debt of love. But those tenements of clay Which maternal love bestow'd, Mangl'd by a tyrant, lay Close by Nile's dishonour'd flood. Acrip. Cease, ye languid springs of life. Cease, and give the contest o'er !— Still condemn'd to mortal strife. Never muft I see them more. Ghosts. Why lament our flight to know From these dens of death and shame. Scenes which mark the sons of woe Still with life's degraded name? Why ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 121 Why lament to see us soar Where the tides of transport flow, Gifted from the heavenly store Far beyond our loss below ? Would you wish to lure us down Here to wander with the dead ? Tho' the bright imperial crown Sparkled on each youthful head? What could thy maternal prayer Add to what we now enjoy ? Thousands here our transport share. Elder brethren oi^ the sky. Fickle chance no longer here Runs her ever changing round ; Sad misfortune's frown severe. Never clouds the hallow'd bound. From the morning where it springs To sweet Hesper's twinkling light. Glancing, on its nimble wings. Speeds our momentary flight. Banish sorrow, — banish fears ; — Taint not thus our pure delight. Nor with unavailing tears Deprecate our heaven-ward flight. R In 12S HISTORICAL MEMOIR In this vast sublunar vault Tho' condemii'd to wander fliil, May the memory of our lot. Every hour with transport fill; , May the fates benignant join To thy life's allotted fpace. All the long revolving line, Sever'd from our hapless days, Acrip. Whither, denizens of air. Whither do you flit away? Ghosts. Your allotment to prepare In the bounds of endless day. Chor. See ! they mount, and now they go. Like an arrow from the bow. Now they skim the starry bound I — Now they pierce the blue profound ! Melting now, like vapours gray. See the phantoms flit away. Where their forms they seem to shroud Deep in yon disparting cloud ! High the heavenly portal glows ; Angels open, — angels close ! Acrip. Ah, they're gone, — for ever gone. Like the dew that meets the sun. Virgins, what for me remains. But ceaseless grief, and mental pains ! Qjoy. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. i<.3 Chor. Smit with soiil-subckiing fear, SECT. With thee we shed the mingling tear, '■ While faint hope, with dubious rav. To our bosom finds its waj'; Hope, that wayward fancy bred This illusion of the dead.(o) \Vc may say, in tlic words of Dr. Joliiison, had Decio often written thus, it had been vain to blame, and useless to praise him. Here! shall take occasion to observe, that the scene wliich I have just transcribed, is one of the first SCENES-A-MA- CHINE that I have met with in a regular Italian tragedj^ though the invention of macliines is generall}^ attributed to the Italians. Even the French, who are so jealous of the honor of their stage, acknowledge to have received machines from the Italians. " Enfin," says the author of le Theatre Fran9ois, nous leur sommes redevables de la belle invention des machines, et de ces vols hardis qui attirent en fo.ilc tout le monde a un spectacle si magnifique."(/)) That the Ita- lians were the first, amongst the moderns, who brought the- atrical machines to perfection, I am willing to allow; but pantomiines-a-machines were certainly exhibited in France so early as the year 13.78, at an entertainment given by ((?) This chorus offers a subject for the pencil, which seems to invite the band of a Pe ters, or a Beauclerc. {/) L^on. 1674./. 51. R 2 Charles 124 HISTORICAL MEMOIU SECT. Charles V. to Iiis uncle the emperor Charles IV. (g") a period' , ■ , at which the Italian stace was only strugo-linc^ into existence. To trace the origin of machines would be difficult, if not im- possible. They prevailed amongst the Greeks and Romans. Vestiges of machines, partly burned, were found in the ruins of the theatre, which was discovered at Herculaneum.(r) And it is recorded in the page of history, that an actor, who represented the character of Icarus in the presence of Nero,, failed in an attempt to fly across the stage, and fell at the feet of the emperor. The drama under consideration suggests another obser- vation. Though the unity of action is preserved in this piece, and, in the Hadriana of Groto, the unity of time is grossly violated in both. They should therefore be entitled HIS- TORIES rather tlian tragedies; a distinction, however, which does not seem to have prevailed at any time in Italy, but which, according to an elegant antiquary, (.y) long ob- tained in England. Dramas wearing this equivocal form- should not be tried by the general laws of tragedy or co- medy. They are a distinct species; and, as Dr. Johnson; {f) Hist, de la 'vie prife'e des Frati^, torn. Hi. /. 321. See also another curious work by th«. same author, entitled /a^. o« ron/fj i/a xii. et du yM\. siecle torn. ii. /. IJ3. In the account of the entremets exhibited at Tours, in 1457, in the presence of the ambassadors of the king of Hungary, several machines are defcribed. See Chron. d'Enguer, de Momtrelet. 'vol. iii. /•73- (r) Deicriz. d' Ercol. da Venuti, Rom. 1 748. (j) Sei Reliq.ofAiu, Eng, Pcet.vol. \. p. \\-],Lond. 1794. justly OM ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 325 Histly remarks, nothing more is necessary to all the praise SECT. which they expect, than that the changes of action be so '_^^ prepared, as to be understood, that the incidents be various and affecting, and the characters consistent, natural, and distinct. This praise is certainly due to the dramas in ques- tion. As Maftei has honored with a place in liis Teatro Italiano, the Astianatte of Bongianni Gratarolo, it may seem, perhaps, entitled to our particular notice. But if my readers be not inclined to renew their acquaintance with Juno, Iris, Andro- mache, and Ulysses, they will, I am sure, excuse me from entering into an analytical review of this tragedy, and be content with my informing them, that it was first published in Venice in 1589. I shall however acquaint thenr, on the authority of this drama, with what, perhaps, they did not know before^ that. Se Glove, Ha casa in terra, la sua casa e Troja. This I learn from a dialogue between Juno and Iris in tlie first act. This tragedy is divided into acts, without the di- vision of scenes ; thus, as MaflTei observes, the author steers a middle course between the ancients and the moderns. Be- sides the tragedy under consideration, Gratarolo wrote L'Al- tea and la Polissena, the latter of which, says an enlightened critic, " c singolarmente lodevole, ed anche in oggi non ir- recitabile." Our author was born in Salo, amongst the orange 12(5 HISTORICAL MEMOIR 5£Cr. orange and citron groves, which perfume the romantic shores y_I[__. of the lago di Garda, the roaring Benacus of Virgil. (i) Passing over some dramas of inferior note, v^'e shall con- clude our account of the tragedies of this age, with the Se- miramide {u) of Muzio Manfredi, and the Merope of Pom- ponio Torelli. Animated by the example of his predecessors in the dramatic walk, Manfredi, with a bold hand, unfolds the o-ates of the silent tomb, and evokes its " sleepers." He opens his tragedy with the ghost of Ninus breathing ven- geance. When this angry shade is about to depart, it is met by another ghost, that offers to assist in promoting its bloody design. The compact being made, both ghosts stalk off to- o-ether, and the action of the play commences. Mairfredi has not, it must be confessed, invested these phantoms with (/) teque Fluctibuset fremitu assurgens, Benace, niariiio ! doyg. lib. i. And thee, Benacus, roaring like the sea, Warton. It was a soft, serine evening in the month of May, when I visited this lake. Its surface was unruffled, and its shores were silent ; yet I felt the justness of Virgil's description. Such a nreat body of water agitated by a storm must indeed roar like a sea. (u) Crescimbcni denominates this drama " una tragedia boschereccia," a proof he n'ver read it; for in no instance does it partake of the nature of a pastoral drama. From the fcv imperfect notices which he gives of the author, it appears, he was as little acquainted with Manfredi as with his wotks. In fact he confounds La Semiramis boscareccia [Pav. 1596) of our author, with his tragedy of the same name. In the dedication to this pastoral drama, to the duke of Parma, Manfredi accounts for his choice of a patron: " Con la qual cre- denza, c con la qual sicurezza, dovendo, io al presente stampare anche questa mia boscareccia (klle n 07,^6 della medesima Semiramis; poscia che due sorelle sono, ambcduc soggetto te- nendo di una stessa persona ; c gran ragione, chc io a due fratelli le raccommandi e dcdichi." The tragedy is dedicated to Odoardo, the duke's brother. the ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 127 the solemn dignity suited to the object of their sublunary SECT. visit, or their praeternatural characters ; tl^.ere is nothing of the august and ten-ible about them; they bring no " blasts from hell." Indeed Manlredi seems to have understood the human character better. The passions which contend for empire in the breast of Semiraniis are fintly described ; and the character of Ninus is admirably supported. And though the ghosts at the commencement prepare us for the catas- trophe, there is a gradation of interest in the piece which never allows the attention to slumber. Of the style an Italiazi critic thus speaks: " bisogna confessare che questa Semiramide per uguaglianza, nobilta e grandezza di stile e per versi-ficazione vince quasi tutte le tragedie del cinque- cento." If I were desired to select a subject for the pencil from this tragedy, I would recommend the following de- scription of Ninus standing over the bodies of his wife and children. Giunto al fiero spettacolo si stette Pallido, freddo, muto, e privo quasi Di movimento: e poco poi dagli occhi Li cadde un fiume lagrimoso, e insieme Un oime languid issimo dal petto Fuori mando, cosi dicendo. {v) {"j) This is so close a copy of a passage in the Ger:tsnhmmc Libcrata> cant. xii. st. go, beginning, Pallido, freddo, muto, &c. that Mr. Hoole's translation, with a slight .ilteration, will serve to give the English reader a clear idea of Manfredi's words, 1 have therefore taken the liberty to borrow it. All 128 HISTORICAL MEMOIR All pale and speechless for awhile he stood. Awhile, with eyes unmov'd, the bodies view'd: At length releas'd the gushing torrents broke, He drew a length of sighs, and thus he spoke. The Semiramidi first appeared (1593) (w) in Bergamo, wliile the author (a descendant of the lords of Faenza) was at Nancy in Lorraine, in the suite of a princess whose name has not reached us. This tragedy, we are told, owes its birth to the words with which Justin terminates his account of the enterprize of Semiramis : Ad postremum cum concubitura filii petisset, ab eodem interfecta est ; and the construction of the fable is supposed to be copied from the Orbecche of Gi- raldi. — ^It should be remembered to the honor of Manfredi, that he visited Tasso in his dungeon at Ferrara, and endea- voured to mitigate the rigour of liis confinement. Serassi has inserted in his elaborate Vita del Tasso, a passage of a letter from our author to a friend, in which he bears testimony to the sanity of Tasso. — With what mingled emotions of pain and horror did I explore this dungeon in the year 1792 ! Damp, dimly lighted, and too low in many parts to allow me to stand erect, I could hardly persuade myself that I was visiting the " prison-house" of the greatest modern epic poet, and of a truly amiable and highly accomplished man^ whose only crime was ambitious love!(j:) „ (w) MafFci has given this tragedy a place in his Teatro Italiano. firr. 1723. I-W. 1746. {x) Alphon: o's motive for imprisoning Tasso has gi\xn birth to a great variety of con- jectures. But I will confess myself inclined to the opinion of M. Mirabaud. Vide F-ie du Taac. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 129 Here I would willingly close my account of the labours of SECT. the tragic muse in Italy during the sixteenth century ; but , " , as I have mentioned the Meropc, I feel myself obliged to no- tice it more particularly. Pomponio Torelli, count of Monte- chiarugolo,(y) who flourished about the close of this century, and who, acording to Maffei, was the last tragic poet of Italy who used the coro Fisso,or stationary chorus, had this, and four other tragedies, recited in the Accademia degl' Innomi- nati(2;) of Padua, where the Merope was received with ap- Tasif, Poll's, 173 J, /. 6g. Ll/i of Tasso prefixed to Doyne's tritns. of The Deliv. of ferrual. Dub. 1 761. Tasso was, I believe, enamoured of the Princess Leonora; and there is good reason for supposing, that the Princess was not insensible to the talents, accomplishments, and personal charms of the author of the Gerusalemme liberata. Anxious to vindicate Leonora from any criminal passion for Tasso, Serassi asserts she was a temple of honor and chastity — " tempio d'onore, e di casiitatc." Fita del Tasso. p. 1 50. That this fair temple did not yield to the amorous assaults of Tasso, I am willing to believe; but it is probable that Alphonso thought it necessary to oblige the poet to raise the siege. This, however, is no apology for his conduct. He might have forbidden Tasso his court, or banished him from his domi- nions ; but he ought not to have deprived him of his liberty, and endangered his mental health. — The comic muse of Goldoni sports with the pajsion of Tasso in his comedy en- titled Torquato Tasso. And the supposed mistress of the unfortunate poet appears a goddess,— DiA Helianora, — in the cloyster of Strawberry- hill. Dacrip. of the •villa of Mr. Horace Walpole. Straviberty-hill, 11%/^. p. Z, {y) Gasparo Murtola addresses his poem of Iride to Torelli, whom he stiles, " poeta ecccllente." ( c ) Amongst the Rime of Guarini is a sonnet addressed to this academy on the admis- sion of the author, which concludes with an ingenious quibble on its name. Ne senza nome innomhiato splende. S plause 130 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, plause, and the rest heard with patience. This applause must , ' . indeed have been very flattering to the author, as the subject had lost something of its interest from having been recently treated in II Cresfontc, a juvenile production of Giambattista Liviera ; for only three )''ears elapsed between the publication (1588) of the Cresfonte, and the appearance of the Merope in 1591. Besides these tragedies, Torelli published ( 1596) a treatise entitled Del Debito del Cavalliero, for the use of his son, a knight of Malta, who died while the work was passing through the press. This circumstance is mentioned in an elegant and pathetic dedication to the duke of Parma, to whom Torelh inscribes the work : " non come donato da me," says the weeping father, " ma come cosa sua propria, aggradendo in questo picciol segno la grande, et buona volonta del padre, et conservando la memoria del figliuolo." As we are now about to take leave of the coro fisso, or stationary chorus, I shall here pause a moment in order to en- quire into the manner in which the Italian tragic chorus was usually conducted and accompanied. But as the historians of the early Italian stage have left this subject wrapt in deep ob- scurity, it will be necessary to proceed with a cautious step. 1. "When Giustiniani's tragedy of (Edipus was represented in the Olympic theatre of Vicenza, the chorus, according to Pigafetta, was formed of fifteen persons who were ranged in two rov/sof seven each, with the choriphoeus, or leader, in the ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 131 the initUIIe. Here our ground is sure, but it soon becomes 'S"£CT. slippery. In what manner tlie chorus was ranged on the, stage, or how it was conducted, I cannot determine witli cer- taiiity, says Crescimbeni. Having thus candidly acknowledg- ed his ignorance, he proceeds to conjecture, that as the cho- rus was borrowed from the Greeks, their manner of conducting it was probably imitated. But being unwilling to leave this point totally undecided, he has recourse, as a dernier ressort, to the stage directions prefixed to the sacred drama dell' Ahi- ma e del Corpo, in which the following instructions for the chorus are given. " The chorus is to have a place allotted them on the stage, part sitting and part standing, in sight of the principal characters. And when they sing, they are to rise and be in motion with proper gestures. "(<7) But whether this custom was universal, adds our modest and indefatigable au- thor, or the invention " di chi ordino la dette rappresenta- zione,"is not known. Despairing then of being able to throw further light upon this part of my subject, I shall let it remain enveloped in the obscurity in which I found it, and proceed to 2. The accompaniment of the chorus. This is generally believed to have consisted of music only. M. de Cahusac, speaking of the Italian tragic drama, says, " dans les pre- miers terns, ils (the Italians) ont pris les sujets des Grecs ont ( a ) Sig. Signorelli, in one of the valuable letters with which he favoured me during the progress of this work, observes, that " il disegno che si ebbe nella rappresentazione dell' Anima e del Corpo, fu di mostrare il coro fisso alia greca, il quale sedeva semprc alia vista de' persooagii e dell' uditorio, indi a suo tempo si levava c faceva de' convencvoli movimenti, cantando." S 2 change 132 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, change la division, et I'ont faite en trois actes. lis ont retenu , • , leurs chocLirs, et ne sen sont point servis. En conservant la musique, ils ont proscrit lacIanse/'(6) A similar observation is made by the learned Abate Conti.(i;) Highly as I respect those authorities, and willing as I might be to bow to them on any other occasion, lam, I will confess, inclined to think, that though the chorus was usually accompanied with music alone, dancing was not totally proscribed. In support of this position, several proofs might be adduced. May it not be conjectured, that the movements described in the stage direc- tions of the drama Dell' Anima e del Corpo, were regulated by music, the performers moving, as they sung, with a measured step ? It is certain that the author directs, that if a dance should be called for at the conclusion, a verse beginning thus, «' Chiostri altissimi, e stellati," is to be sung, accompanied sedately and reverentially by the dance. Perhaps too it might be urged, that the concluding chorus of Testi's Alcina was at least intended, by the author, to be accompanied with dancing ; for he entitles it Balletto, a word which is defined by the Italian lexicographers, " una spezie di ballo." Nor should we omit to remark, that the marquis Venuti, in his Descrizione dell' antica citta d' Ercolano, describes a dance { b ) 1 raite historiq. de la Danse. torn, iii. p. 75. { c) Profe e Pocsie del Abate Cur.H. lam. ii. /. izz. which ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 133 which was performed (1621) in Naples during the represen- 5£Cr. tation of the Crispo of Stefonio.(^) Thus my position re- > ] , ceives, or seems to receive, support from authorities not less respectable than those who deny the fact for whicli I contend. If, however, a cloud still seems to rest upon this iiiteresting branch of my subject, I will candidly acknowledge I am not, at present, prepared to make a further attempt at dispel- ling it. Nor am I as well prepared as I once flattered myself I should be, to exhibit a specimen of the music to which the tragic chorus was originally sung. A deep enquirer into the history of music whom I consulted is, however, of opinion, that the choral parts of the early Italian tragedies were in the style of the choral church music of the same period, previous to the invention of recitative at the beginning of the last century. Subscribing to the opinion of my friend, I sliall substitute ( d ) From the description of this dance I am,' however, induced to think it was uncon- nected wiih the tragedy, and only performed bstween the artj, like the modern ballet. 1 shall give the words of my authority. •' Una rappresentanza di ballo, imitante i giri del la- berinto, fu messa alia publica vista in Napoli nell' anno 1621, con applauso universale, allor- che rappresentossi la tragedia del Crispo composta dallo Stefonio.";>. n^. Here we may dimly discern a ballet or dramatic dance, founded on the story of Theseus and Ariadne. It ii a curious but a certain fact, that a dance of a similar figure, is frequently performed, at this 134 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, substitute for the specimen which eluded my enquiries, a Chorus in the sacred drama dell' Anima e del Corpo. (See the annexed Plate.) If this specimen should not gratify the musical reader, it will, I trust, satisfy his curiosity. I shall now observe, in the words of the friend to whom I have just alluded, that " reci- tative, long before solo-airs were attempted, was thought by poets and their friends, an admirable invention to get rid of choral compositions in dramatic representations." Hence it may be inferred, that the tragic chorus sunk mto disuse in Italy, in proportion as the opera rose into public favor. Per- haps too it also received a wound from the refinement of modern music. For, as Mr. Mason ver}'- justly observes, " our different cadences, our divisions, variations, repetitions, without which modern music cannot subsist, are entirely im- proper for the expression of poetry." this day on the shore of the Mediterranean near Naples, Vy the fishermen and their famih'c?. Signora Angelica Kaufman, who had viewed this dance with the eye of a painter skilled in the antique, once observed to me, that (he could discover in the gestures of the dancers, aeveral of the attitudes which we admire in the paintings found amongst the ruinsof Pom])eii and Herculaneum. Another dance in which several of the attitudes exhibited in those paintings may be discovered, is described in the Appendix No. VII. — On the subject of the dances, and amusements in general, of the lower orders of the Italians, much curious in- formation may be derived from the inestimable annotations of Anton Maria Salvini, on La Fitra, ^nA La Tancla, f Fir. i-^zS, fol. J two comedies by Michel Buonarruoti, il giovane, the Ten I ER! of the comle poets of Italy. As Chonts in the Oratorio delT Aiiima H di Corpo -4- Ka _ tp! f(s«fJ ail 5Th~I no_ re Of-RaL ni t c&r_ _ H*. O Q ai SIr — no _ re Dr- )rvi,_ni e fcr _ i. en !■"»_ te ffcs_t» in SIr _ no Fa— te fes—ta >1 SiK — no O r _ ga'— r i p cor — ^ ne ** 3— O ^ Q I O Q Q—C dE i ^=^ ' {?' 7 "^FT ni Tinipli^rib Centre • XC m o o re e ' rom ^ ^^^ x r-^ .rcr: 1 S.iltri) e L hin _no Q Q q 3^ Tinipii ^ no C*' - tre e Trom ^ n balmo e L hiti— no m xr Q CI I -^ i 3 irr m ■5222: bom be Clnti ogni lin Rua' .- dl 7%~{n siem col suo no' Q-Q ^ ^ i XI m boni_be Canti ogni TlnZguac di^ca in tiem c 333: S XX sao J no XT T~0~^ EE bom _ be Canti o^ni lin^gaa e di_ ca in Mom co •no ^ no gna O «, S boni^be Canti o^ni Un^gui • di^ cai n «iem co sno ^ no ^ o ,- ; : o • o • 1^ #t # ^|o#:U. | | °-1 Q Q 3 « Be _ ne _ di'_te il Sig^nor per che e gli le buo — no m ^ Be_ ne _ Xn Be- ne xr o ' =1 Je_ ne _ di_ te il STk— "no he e gli'e buo — no per i 1:1 c\ q i ■ ::? Be— nb ^ di — teil hig;— nor per che e glTe buo — no BeZne-T HF^ S '-^ n 1 O ^^ S Be ^ ne ^ di _ te il Si^— nor per che e gli e bno ^ no ;>: t-' Q i Be-ne^ ^^ =e= 11 io« ^ M \ ^ I I IM -di-te 1 Si^_ nor per e-e xn I che e gli buo — _ — no. I 32= i di— te il Sif; — nor per che e x''* ^^° — — — "o 13= n - di_te il Sig_ nor per che e xU ^ i bno — — — no. t;i=C aiic- nor pel] di_te il Si^T^nor pplr . che e kU*" ''°° — — _ no E i i P w ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 135 As an enquiry into tlie natiirc and powers of the several 5£Cr. musical instruments which sustained and swelled the chorus ' ^ of the early Italian tragedies, does not properly fall within my plan, I shall refer the reader for information on that subject, to the elaborate works of Padre Martini, Sir J. Hawkins, and Doctor Burney. I shall, however, embrace this opportunity to observe that, of the instruments which prevailed upon the Italian stage at the rise of Italian tragedy, a copious enumeration is given in the Descrizione degl' inter- medii rappresentati nelle nozze di don Francesco de' Medici, ed la rcgina Giovanna d'Austria, subjoined to la Cofanaria di F. d' Anibra, printed in Florence, 1^9,3, by F. Giunti ; and in thefarsa, or masque, by Sannazaro, which was represented in Naples before Alfonso, duke of Calabria, in 1492, men- tion is made of the musical instruments employed on that occasion. Amongst the instruments enumerated in Sannazaro's little drama, we find the cornamusa and ribeca both of which have ceased, long since, to be theatrical in- struments : the former, however, is still a favourite with the Calabrese, and though the latter has fallen into total disuse, its name is yet remembered in Naples, and applied, in derision, to the violin in the hands of a bad performer. Delineations of the ribeca, and several other musical instru- ments which prevailed in Italy so early as the year 1524, are exhibited in the frontispiece to the Tempio d' Amore of 136 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, of Galeotto del Carretto, noticed in a former part of this V J , work. Returning from this digression, I shall close this section with a few general observations on the tragic dramas of the period which we have been considering. " Est-il arrive," says the author of L^Historie du theatre Italien, " que les tragedies composees, depuis 1500 quesqu'en 1600, ou environ, ont etc trouvees en Italic trop cruelles, et n'ont pas fait plai- sir; enfin I'horrible pousse a I'exces degouta les Italiens d'un tel spectacle. Les poetesne furent point contens de faire que les fils tuassent leurs meres, ou les peres leurs enfans, que Ton fit apporter sur la scene des urnes ou etoient les membres des enfans massacres que Von tiroit de I'urne, piece a piece, pour les faire voir aux spectateurs."(^) The reader will perceive that this observation, though seemingly intended to be ge- neral, points obliquely at the Orbecche and Acripanda. Here I will take occasion to remark, that it was rather from the (e) Tom.'i.f, 37. In tracing the various revolutions which have occurred, in diffc- rent countries, in the public taste, our surprize is powerfully excited on observing, that the same nation, which, in the sixteenth century, not only tolerated but probably admired the spectacles so justly reprobated by the historian of the Italian stage, should, in the year 1728, refuse a patient hearing to the Catone in Utica of Metastasio, merely because the hero ap pears, wounded, in the last act. Yet the fact is indisputable. Dr. Burney has preserved the pasquinade which was published on the occasion. Mem. of Meiast, 'vol. iii. p. 381. And in the edition of Metastasio's works printed at Paris, 1773, we find the lastscene of theCatonc altered, " a riguardo " says the editor, " del geirio delicato del moderno teatro." Roman ox ITALIAN TRAGEDY. "^^^7 Roman than the Greek theatre, that the Italians learricd to SECT. heighten the horrors of their tragic scenes with recking spec- . . ' . tacles. Murder on the Greek stage was generally com- mitted behind the scenes, sometimes in the hearing, but rarely, I believe, in the presence of the spectators ;(/) nor was it usually followed by, or attended with, any shocking circumstances : but in the tragedies of Seneca, the audience are supposed to behold Hercules tearing his children in pieces, Medea imbruing her hands in the blood of her son, and The- seus collecting the scattered members of Hippolytus. If liowever, we should attempt to trace out the causes which led the Italian tragic writers to select fables in which horror predominates, we must not seek them either in the national religion, or in the national character. The Italians of the sixteenth century did not, like the ancient Greeks and Ro- mans, worship gods whose attributes were rage, revenge and lust, — they adored an all-perfe6l and all-merciful Being ; nor can we discover any thing cruel or ferocious in the cha- (f) The Greek stage was not, however, always exempt from bloody spectacles. Agave bearing the head of her son Pcntheus, myst be 'present to the mind of every reader of Euri- pides. But the poet seems to offer an excuse for this violation of the common usage of his stage, by making the unhappy niotlicr, in a fit of bacchanalian frenzy, mistake the head of her son for that of a lion. — What an admirable lesson for the votaries of Bacchus! Lord Roscommon, in a note on liis translation of Horace's Art of Poetry, endeavours to prove that the Greek tragic writers seldom defiled tl:eir stage with blood ; but he makes no attempt at defending, or accounting for, their choice of subjects. Tliis remained to be done by Mr. Preston, in his learned and ingenious reflections on the choice of subjects for tragedy among the Greek writers. Trans, of the Roy. Irish Acad, t'ol, vi. T racter 138 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, racter of the nation, except where the spirit of democracy ^ ' , prevailed. In fact, the Italian dramatists of this period, wrote without any regard to the national character. Enthusiastic admirers of the ancients, they followed them implicitly ;(_§•) and the public taste gradually formed itself to endure, if not to relish, their scenes of complicated horrors. {g) So strong was the national prejudice in favor of the writings of the ancients in the time of Aricsto, that he was apprehensive his comedy of Cassaria would have been damned as an original 'work, Senza ascoltarne mezzo o fine, and therefore he endeavours, in the prologue, to prevail on the audience to hear before they decide. — It will, perhaps, heighten the pleafure which every traveller of taste must feel in vifiting the houfe of Ariosto in Ferrata, to be told, that it was in the apartment at present (1797) adorned wiih the bust of the poet, that the Cassaria, and all \\h other comedies were originally recited by the author and hisbrothers. Of this house, a section and elevatior> are given in Zatta's elegant edition of the Or/. F«/-. ^cx'. 1772. It stands in the Strada di S. Maria di Bocche, and is now the property of the Pelkgrina family. HISTORICAL MEMOIR ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. SECTION 11. MDC. MDCC. X HE fecundity of the tragic muse is not more remarkable in SECT. the age which we are quitting, than in that on which we are • now about to enter. But this is not to be wondered at ; for still the poets of Italy continued to drink deep at " the well-head of pure poesy," — perhaps, as we have just insinuated, too deeply. Instead of exercising their own reason, (says Gib- bon, speaking of this period), the Italians acquiesced in that T 2 of i^o HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, of the ancients: instead of transfusing into their native .. ^'.^ tongue the taste and spirit of the classics, they copied, with the most aukward servility, the language and ideas suited to an age so different from their own. This observation is severe, but I fear it is too just. However, I trust we shall find, as we proceed, a few writers who do not deserve to be classed with the herd of servile imitators who drew this angry and unqualified censure from the great historian of declining Rome. I shall open this age with the Tomiri (h) of Angelo In- gegneri, a tragedy which, though it does not rank with the first productions of the Italian muse, has many beauties. Oppressed with an heavy weight of moral declamation, the dialogue is often languid; but some of the odes abound in true poetic fire, particularly the address to the sun at the close of the second act, beginning Alta, e prima caglon di quanto In terra S' appiqlla, e nasce, e 1' arrlcchlsce, ed orna. The departure from history in the contrition of Tomyris, heightens the moral tendency of the piece. (/) But in her feeble (*) Naf. a/'frciso Gio. Giac. Carlino, e Const. I'itale, 1607. (;') In the year 1762, signora Livia Accarigi of Sienna, undertook a tragedy on the in- teresting story of Tomyris, in which she seems to have followed Ingegneri in the change of «haracter that takes place in her heroine towards the end of the piece. But, instead of being softtncd by conttition, Tomyris appears full of great, virtuous and magnanimous senti- ment}. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 141 feeble expressions of sorrow on hearing of the deatli of her SECT. son, and in tlie multiplicity of her enquiries at that aiHicting ^_J_j moment, \vc lose sight of the mother, — and, of course, of nature. Perhaps too, the shade of Astyages might have been omitted: it certainly could be spared, for it appears to no useful purpose. In the dedication to this tragedy, the author endeavours to account for the decline of tragedy in Italy at the time of the appearance of his drama (1607) : " sia, perche la spesa, e la merits. " This, (says Metastnsio, in a lettLT to the authoress,) seems .t duplicity of cha- racter as repugnant to rule, as two fifihs in music. It is true that there are in nature devout rascals and bhistsriiig cowards; but they are insufferable, and our theatre requires decided characters." This tragedy, 1 believe, was never printed : so that we have to lament the loss, or suppression of a dr;ima v/rittcn under the direction of Metastasio, by a InJy endued with no common powers. Perhaps it would be fortunnte for the fame of Padre Ringhicri, if his Tomiri had shared the same fate. Though there was no opera in Bologii.i at the time (August, 1770] Dr. Bumey visited that city, " yet," says he, " for the sake of seeing the theatre,! went to the play. The house is elegant, but not large; it has, however, five rows of boxes, twel\ e or thirteen on a side. When I went in, I knew not what the play would be, but expected a ribbald farce as usual; when, to my great surprise, I found it was an Italian tragedy called Tomiri, written by Padre Ringhieri. I had never seen one before, and was much pleased with the opening, but soon grew tired of the long speeches and declamations; they were past all bearing, tedious. Thomyris, queen of the Amazons, came on dressed in a very equivocal manner; for, in order to give her a martial look, she had her petticoats trussed up in front above her knees, which were very discernible through her black breeches. However strange this appeared to me, the audience clapped violently, as they did constantly at the worst and n.ost absurd things in the piece. There was a great deal of religion in it, and such ana- chronisms, that they talked of J. C. and the Trinity, nor were Free-will and Predestination forgotten ; and when Cyrus is dying of the wound he received in battle, he is examined by a Jewish priest, a principal character in the play, as his confessor, concerning his religions prin- ciples, and he makes to him a profession of faith." Pns. stat. of musk in France and Italj., p. 206. Ringhieri was author of several other tragedies which we shall notice in their pro- per place, mail neon i a 14,2 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, malinconia dello spettacolo ne rende poco frequente la rap- > ^J , presentatione; o sia piu tosto, perclie '1 mancamento di buoni soggetti tragici, e la difficolta de i precetti, dati in questa materia da i maestri dell' arte, ne sbigottisce i compositori." In another part of this discourse, he declares, " io non son d'accordo con coloro che vogliono, die sia mente d' Aristo- tele, che'l tragico habbia per fine di purgar gli animi, co '1 mezzo del terrore, e della commiseratione, da quest' istessi affetti. Prima, perche cio sarebbe un pensare di curare 'Ifred- do, CO 'I freddo, e '1 caldo co '1 caldo, e non con i contrari, come fanno i medici : poi perche I'animo, liberato dal timore, e dalla compassione, trapassa sovente all' insolenza, ed alia crudelta." Without waiting to enquire whether this dissent from the opinion of the Stagyrite be either just or ingenious, I shall proceed to observe that, if Ingegneri should be forgotten as a critic and as a poet, he will ever be remembered with gra- titude as a friend and amanuensis of Tasso. To him we are indebted for the first correct edition of the Gerusalemme Liberata; and had he not secretly possessed himself of a ■c6py of Le Sette Giornate del Mondo Creato, that sublime poem would probably never have appeared, or have been published in a mutilated state. Nor was he wanting in per- sonal services to Tasso when suffering from mental infirmity, or the persecutions of his enemies. Ingegneri was a man of profound learning, and a successful translator. His transla- tion of the first book of Ovid's Art of Love, is still read with pleasure "• ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 343 pleasure: but his literary character derives its celebrity from SECT. his Discorso della Poesia rappresentativa. He was born in ,. ' . Vicenza, and graced with the academic lionors of that city. As I advance several other tragedies offer themselves to my notice ; but I do not find my attention arrested until the ap- pearance of tlie Evandro of Francesco Bracciolini in i6'i2, and the Giorgio and Ulisse of Giambattista della Porta of Naples, in 1614,. The latter has been compared in point of elegance of style and harmony of numbers, with the Torris- mondo and Semiramide ; but in the Giorgio the author has been accused of embellishing the fabulous story of the champion of England with beauties stolen from the Iphige- nia of Euripides. Baretti prefers the comedies of della Porta to his tragedies. Of this author I have only been able to learn, that he sunk under a weight of years in 1615. But my biographical enquiries concerning the author of tlie Evandro, have been attended with more success. Francesco Bracciolini, a gentleman of Pistoja, was a volu- minous writer. The number of his writings, says one of his biographers, is incredible. Being a man of elegant manners, profound erudition, and sprightly wit, he became the favou- rite of Maffeo Barberini who, in 1623, rose to the chair of Saint Peter.(ii') When Barberini was sent as nuncio to the court (i) The character of Urban has been succinctly and energetically ilrawn by the abbe Zac- chiroli: •* II aima les lettres, fit niettre le grand Galilee a I'inquisiiion, et enrichit scs ne- veux," Dec, de la gal, roy, de Flor. /. ij6. His latin poetry is praised by the author of 144 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, court of France by Clement VIII. he invited our author to ^ ' , attend him as his secretary. But Bracciolini, soon growing tired of this situation, begged permission to return to his na- tive country. This gave offence to the nuncio, and Braccio- lini lost his friendship. But when Barberini succeeded Cle- ment VIII. the incense of a poem entitled L'Elezione di Urbano VIII. softened his resentment, and our author was restored to favor. A favourite of the pope, and a favourite of the muses, the fame of Bracciolini spread rapidly, pene- trating even the wilds of Scotland. Baretti enumerates three tragedies by this author, I'Evandro, I'Arpalice and la Pente- of Leiters of Liter, p. 296. Having been led to notice Urban, I shall devote the remainder of tliis note to an attempt at rectifying an error concerning this enlightened pontiff, into which some of the biographers and commentators of Milton have fallen. Misled by Sir John Hawkins, the late Mr. Warton says, " when Milton was at Rome, he was introduced to the concerts of cardinal Barberini, afterwards pope Urban the Eighth, where he beard Leonora (Baroni) sing, and her motfatrr play." Poems upon sc-j. sccas. By J. Milton. Loud, 1-05. p. 491 (note.) A blighi enquiry might have undeceived this ingenious writer. Urban was raised to the chair of St. Peter 1623; consequently he was in the sixteenth year of his pontificate when Milton visited Rome in 1639. The«cardinal to whom our divine bard was introduced, was, probably, Francesco Barberini, one of the nephews of Urban, who, like his uncle, was not onl) a lover of music, but an admirer and patron of literary merit, and therefore likely to feel the attractions of such talents as Milton was endowed with. It was under his patronage, Gio Battista Doni wrote his Trattato de' generi e de' modi dclla Mus- ica; and GirolaLiio Preti, a celebrated lyric poet of Bologna, died in his service. Fulvip Testi addresses to this cardinal a sonnet beginning Parte il bifronte Dio. As Doni, Testi and Bracciolini were retainers of the Barberini family when Milton was at Rome, they were probably personally known to him. Had he, therefore, left a detailed ac- count of his travels, it might be expected to throw much lighten a brilliant period in the literary history of modern Italy. silea ; ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. J4^ silea: but the Evandro only has met my observation. In SECT, this tragedy I find little to admire. The death of Orontca , in Act V. Sc. 6. is certainly admirably described. But the plot is not well conducted, and the dialogue is in general heavy from the immoderate length of some of the speeches. In order to shev^ the author's lyric powers, I shall transcribe the chorus to the third act. E questa vita umana Orrida selva, solitaria, anticn, Dove chi passa, a riguardar si volta, Se loco v'e da riposarsi alcuno, E dolce alleggcrir I'aspra fatica. E ben crede ciascuno, Dov' ella e piu lontana Esser crba piu vcrdc, ombrapiu folta: Ma, poichc appressa il peregrine II picdc, Conosce ermo ogni loco Pur egualmente, e vede, Che la vista, e il desio gli fanno un gloco. E che I'incolta inabitata spiaggia Non ha parte di sc fuor che selvaggia. Glove sentendo un giorno Le querele de' miseri mortali, Disse: Ciascun i suoi dolor mi dia; E di miserie un' ampio monte accolto Cumulo immenso d' infiniti mali, E confuso, e ravvolto, U A cias- 146 HISTORICAL MEMOIR A ciascun' uomo intorno Egualmente la somma indi partia, Allor grida la turba, e si contenta Piu del suo mal primiero, E che I'ange, e tormenta, Quanto novello or piu, tanto piu fero. Cosi nessun, della sua sorte pago. Pur deir altruij bencbe peggiore, e vago. This tragedy, according to Baretti, appeared for the first time in Florence, from the press of the Giiinti, 1613. (/) After a long sleep, it again met the public eye in Scelta di rare e celebri tragedie, published in Venice in 1750. The Amoroso Sdegno of Bracciolini, has raised him to eminence amongst the pastoral poets of Italy ; and his mock-heroic poem of Lo Scherno degli Dei,(m) is a monument of his wit and humour: but La Croce Racquistata has acquired him no epic glory. La tete epique is a rare endowment, — Our au- thor died in 1640. (/) hal. Lib. p. Cj-], Earetti's authority on this, as well as on many other occasions, is questionable. I am possessed of a copy of the Evandro, published in Florence, 1613, ap- presso G. e Ber. Giunti, which is said, in the title-page, to be the " seconda edizzione." Per- haps this play first appeared in Pistoia, whence the dedication is dated j " di Pistoia alii 29 di Ferraio, 1612." (m) Roma, 162b. As fourteen cantos of this poem were published (161 8) before the press imparted La Secchio Rapita, the invention of the heroi-comic poem has been ascribed to Sracciolini. This point, which still remains undetermined, is ably discussed in the preface to the edition of La Secchia Rapita printed at Modena, 1 744, Delia ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 147 Delia Porta and Bracciolini were followed by Ansaldo Ce- SECT. ba, a nobleman of Genoa, who published in 1623 two tragc- . , dies — the Silandra and the Alcippo, and left inedited le Ge- melle capouane. Sig. Signorelli disputes the right of the latter to a place in the Teatro Italiano, and supports iiis opinion by an analysis of the piece, in which he exposes all its feeble parts ; — an exhibition of the following passage alone would, however, have sufficed. It is the language of Billingsgate, or Saint Giles. Pir. Mentre so ch' Anniballe in me rivolto Non degna pur di rimirarti in viso 1'ras. Come non degna? Ei parla meco ognora, E ride, e scherza, e non mi guarda in viso ? Pir. lo so quel che vo'dir; la cortesia Lo strigne teco, e meco il lega amore. Tras. Oh come sciocca sei, sc tu tcl credi! Pir. Oh come stolta tu, se no '1 comprendi! . Tras. Le pugna a mano a man, se tu non taci. Mi serviran per lingua e per favella. Pir. E I'unghie, se tu segui a provocarmi, Ti suppliran per motti e per risposte. This play has a chorus which appears at the end of each act. It is composed of Capuans of different factions who sing alternately in anacreontic measure. As this is a singular circumstance in dramatic history, I shall transcribe two stanzas from the first chorus. U 2 Capouani. 14,8 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Capouani. della fazion Romana. Deh che spirto a' nostri danni Si levo dal lago Averno, E, battendo in aria i vanni Venne a noi dal cieco inferno, Perche, contro a quel che scrisse Capoa Roma oime tradisse ? Cafouani. della parte Cartaginese. Fur piu grandi i nostri danni, Quando giii dal lago Averno, Sospendendo in aria i vanni, Spirto usci dal cieco inferno. Perch' in quel che Capoa scrisse, Roma no, ma se tradisse. Concerning Ceba I have learned little more than that he was born in Genoa in 1565, and died in 1623. Besides the tra- gedies which we have already mentioned, he wrote a treatise on epic poety, two poems entitled L'Ester,andil Furio Camillo, and translated from the Greek, the characters of Theophras- tus. These productions were all printed in the life time of the author; but so extremely careless vvas he of the Gemelle Capouane, the stay of his literary reputation, that it was only brought to light by a fortunate accident, after his death. " Un ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 149 " Un jour," says Riccoboni " je troiivai cette tragedie : le SECT. nom de I'auteur n'y etoit point, mais a la premiere page il y > avoit huit vers que I'auteur adressoit a un de ses amis. Cos liuit vers etoientsi beaux qu'ils me donnerent cnvic de lire la tragedie : je la trouvai bonne, et il me sembloit au papier et a I'ecriture quec'etoitl'original meme de Tauteur; je n'avois au- cune connoissance de cette tragedie, et je ne pouvois pas en decouvrir I'auteur; je la fis voir a monsieur le marquis Maffei. II la reconnut d'abord." Delighted at getting this treasure, the marquis could not be prevailed on to restore it to Ricco- boni ; but he promised not to withhold it from the public. And inobservance of this promise, he inserted it in the second vo- lume of the Theatro Italiano, But it is to be lamented that the preliminary lines which struck the fancy of Riccoboni so forcibly, are omitted. A few tragedies by different authors appeared about the same time with those of Ceba ; but none of them are deemed deserving of notice, except the Erminia of Gabricllo Chia- brera, and the Carichia of Pignatelli. The latter is composed of materials drawn from the beautiful Greek romance of Cha- riclea and Theagenes ; and the former, according to an ex- cellent Italian critic, is not inferior to any preceding tragic drama in the Italian language "per rcgolarita, per economia, et per maneggio d'affetti." Of Pignatelli I only know that he was born in Naples of the illustrious family which gave Innocent XII. to the see of Rome, 150 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. Rome. But of Chiabrera, Baretti thus speaks ; " Gabrielle , " . Chiabrera attempted in his earlier youth to obtain the epic laurel, but perceiving that his countr3'men could not be brought to bestow any great encomiums on his Amadeide, turned his steps to the lyric track, and abandoning the road traced some centuries before by Petrarch and his followers, took Pindar and Anacreon for his models, and acquired much reputa- tion both with his fervid and his soft measures." Chiabrera may be numbered with those writers who, by laying the ancients under contribution, have enriched the lyric poetry of their country. " La lirica poesia Itaiiana," says Tassoni, " non e altro, che una mirabil raccolta di tutte le bellezze poetiche, che non pur sono sparse in diverse lingue." About this time lived a Sicilian Jesuit named Ortenzio Sca- macca, who published, between the years 1632 and 1651, forty nine tragic dramas on sacred and profane subjects. " Quant a celles dont les sujets sont prophanes," says Ricco- boni, " comme le Polipheme, Roland furieux &c. le pere Sca^ macca les appelle toujours Morales, sans doute parce que son intention dans ses pieces a toujours etc de corriger les moeurs. Bernardino Stefonio, another Jesuit who flourished at this time, published three latin tragedies of which one (la santa Sinforosa(o) is much extolled. This tragedy was first repre- sented («) Gian Vittoria Rossi-, a Roman gentleman, at the request of Stefonio undertook the character of Sinforosa which he performed to such general satisfaction, that he bore for a const- ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 151 sented in the Jesuits' college in Rome, where, as well as in SECT. the other Roman colleges, but particularly in those of that '• useful but dangerous order, it was customary, according to Denina, to perform tragedies for the exercise and entertain- ment of their pupils. (/>) And it was probably with this view that all the tragedies which we have just mentioned, were written. considerable time after, the name of Sinforosa. It is recordccl as an extraordinary instance of the retentive power of memory, that though seven hundred lines fell to the share of Rossi, he was perfectly prepared in his part in the course of three days. (/) Crcscimbeni celebrates the theatrical powers of Carlo Emanuello d' Este, son of the Mar- quis of san Cristina, who, in his fifteenth year, took a principal part in an interlude between the acts of an Italian translation of the Rodogneof Corneille, performed in the Clementine col- lege of Rome. " La maraviglia di questo fatto," says this laborious writer, " ritorno in parcc- chi amadori di poesia, che vi emn presenti, la rremoria degli eroi di quella nobilissima casa, tanto benemerita de' poeti: e particolarmente si ricordarono del famoso Rinaldo cosi celebre iiella spedizione di Terra santa sotto GofFredo." torn. i. /. 217. I shall beg leave to enrich this note with a passage in point, from the letter of an ingenious friend whom I consulted during the progress of this work. " I have been frequently delighted by theatrical represen- taiioiis, in the college of Rome, particularly at the Nazarene and German colleges, and the Collegio Clementino, where the actors who performed at the public theatres, excited in my mind the emotions which the sacred dramas of Metastasio and Racine are calculated to pro- duce; giving grief, pity, remorse, &c. their proper tone and variation of feature, with a ges- ture and attitude particularly expressive and affecting. The only difference I observed at the colleges was, that love intrigues were never introduced. In ever>' other respect they resem- bled the public theatre of the valle, aliberti, argientina and capranica. The first of these re- presentations I ever attended in Rome was iVIetastasio's Giuseppe riconosciuto. The players declaimed accompanied by music, and the chorus was supported by the accompaniment of a grand orchestra, which ravished the minds of the audience, and melted their affections with such despotism that Joseph II. Emperor of Germany, who was present with some of the first nobility, was observed to burst into tears when Joseph discovered himself to his brethren. This was at the German college. At the other two colleges we had the Opera BufFa and some of Goldoni's comedies, as well as sacred dramas. Both comedies and tragedies were performed by the collegians," But 152 HISTORICAL MEMOIR But the Jesuits were not the only ecclesiastics who were indulged with a private theatre. The muses were not ba- nished with the mysteries and moralities from the pale of the church. It was usual in Italy, during the middle ages, and the practice still continues, to relieve the toedium of the ascetic life with dramas on sacred, and even on profane sub- jects, which were performed by such members of the frater- nity as had talents or inclination for theatrical exhibition. Giovanni Battista Doni, while he supports my assertion, speaks rather disrespectfully indeed of the legendary kind of dramas used in convents, calling them " gross and vulgar," From this censure, however, must be excepted san Giovanni e san Paolo by Lorenzo de' Medici, and the santa Domitilla and santa Guglielma of Antonia, wife of Bernardo Pulci ;(/>*) as well as the effusions of other polished pens occasionally exercised in the service of the cloister, particularly the Anti- gone of Conte di Monte, which was performed (1565) in a little wooden theatre designed by Palladio and painted by Zucchero, in the church of san Maria della carita in Venice. Amongst the dramas which fell under the lash of Doni, L' Eunuco della regina Candace di Ambrogio Grigioni was probably one. In this rappresentazione, which was recited in the church of san Quirico on the first of May 1^13, " on (/*) See biogmphical notices of the Pulci family prefixed to the valuable edition of the Miiganti Magghre, Fir. 1732. and BurNty's Hist, of Music, -vol. iv. /. 82. [itate.J Bernardo is also said to have occasionally exercised himself in the composition of sacred dramas. Ltcr, della 'volg. }oes. "vol. 1 . lib. 4. cap, 1 3. trouve," ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 24,1 dramatists imitated their example ; and violation of proba- SECT. bility, misrepresentation of life, aiid depravation of language soon after followed. If Riccoboni was rightly informed, we have to lament the suppression of another tragedy by the learned and accom- plished author of the Merope. " It is reported," says he, " that the same author (Matfei) has written another tragedy which is now locked up in his closet." It does not appear that this tragedy was ever published, but I trust it is not lost. MaiFei's comedies, which first appeared in his Reforma del Teatro Italiano, were never admired, and are now forgotten. But though he has not succeeded in comedy, we find his muse sporting with elegance and ease in his Rime e Prose. In his Verona illustrata, he appears a profound antiquary ; and in his Teatro Italiano, a compiler of jugment and taste. It does great honor to the city of Verona that it was not in- sensible to the various merits of this nobleman during his life. On his return after a short absence from his native city ; he found his bust placed over the principal entrance to the phil- harmonic academy, with the following inscription on the pedestal : Marchioni scipioni maffeo vivente, academia phi- larmonica decrete et ^re publica. anno mdccxxvii. His modesty taking the alarm, the bust was removed at his earnest desire. But it was restored to its pristine situation on his death. It sfiU stood in the year 1792. And as I I i learned 2^2 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SEQT. learned against a pillar in the portico of the museum reflect- , _^ ing, with gratitude, on the many obligations which the lovers Oi"" Italian literature have to the taste, genius and industry of the marquis, [x*) my ej'e was attracted by the following in- scription : MaRCJUONIS SCIPIONIS MAFFEI, MUS.EI VERONENSIS CON- DITORIS, PROTGMEN AB IPSO AMOTAM, POST OBITUM ACIDE- MIA PHILARMONICA RESTITUIT, ANNO MDCCLV. With the death of MafFei it may be supposed that the article devoted to him should close. But to the lovers of the Italian drama nothing which relates to the Merope can be mi interesting. I shall therefore offer no apology for observ- ing here, that the part of Merope was first performed by Elena Bailetti detto Flaminia(v) the wife of Luigi Ricco- (a*) In a letter addressed to MafFei by Muratori, a few days before his death, he deno- juinates him " il campione piu vigoroso e coragioso della letteratura in Italia." Fita del Muratori. Nap. I'JJS.f. 169. {_y ) She was born at Ferrara in 16S6. Her son Antonio Francesco Riccoboni, who was many years a favourite actor, was bom at Mantua in 1707, and died in Paris, in 1771. His wife, Marie Jeanne de la Borras, who quit the stage in 1760, is well-known by her ro- mances of Catesby, Amelie, Jenny, le Marquis de Gressy, Sancerte, Sophie de Valliere, Butler and Rivers. Translations of some of those productions swell the catalogue of Eng- lish novels. In regard to the real name of the celebrated Flaminia, there are various opinions. In calling her Elena Bailetti, I follow De la Lande, and the editor of the posthumous works of the Abate Conti ; but Qiiadrio says, that her true name was Agata Calderoni. Concerning her " nom de guerre," there are, however, no doubts ; the names of Lelio and Flaminia, are inseparably united in the page of history. At the invitation of the duke of Orleans, these celebrated performers entered into the service of the French count in the year 17 16; and in 1773,3 pension of fifteen thuuiand livres was settled on them by the king of France. boni ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 245 boni detto Lello, the Roscius of his age, and the author of SECT. L'Histoire du Theatre Italien, and several other works. , This lady was not only celebrated as an actress of consider- able merit, but as a writer of some excellent comedies and an ingenious dissertation upon theatrical declamation. She was perfectly acquainted with the Latin language, and not totally ignorant of the Greek; and " sapeva al fondo," says an Italian author, " V arte della poesia drammatica." Rousseau speaking of this lady, in a letter to her husband, sa3's, " jc connoissois de plus mademoiselle Flaminia, voire illustre epouse, pour une personne distinguee parmi ce qu' il y a de plus scavant en Italic." But while we are doing justice to the wife, let us not forget the husband. When Pietro Cotta quit the stage in disgust, Riccoboni found himself raised to the head of his company, without any body to support him. " I stood alone," says he, " trembling at the recollection." Alarmed at his situation, he consulted the Marquis Maffei. " Call up the horrors of our old tragedies," said the literary veteran. The experiment was tried and succeeded. And for ten years after, the Sophonisba of Trissino, the Semi- ramide of Manfredi, the Torrismondo of Tasso, aiid the Cleopatra of Delfino, kept possesion of the stage in Venice, and in all the principal cities of Lombardy. At the same time, says Riccoboni, " je donnai la Merope du meme Marquis Maftbi : on ne S9auroit cxprimer Ic bruit qu' elle fit, et les I i 2 applau- 244 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, applaudissemens qu'elle recut ; il s'en fit quatre editions dans la II! . . ., ,. . meme annee. Tempted, probably, by the success of Maffei's Merope, Ni- "^cola Francesco Hayra,a Roman ; who resided in London dur- ing the reigns of queen Anne and George I. published a trage- dy, on the same subject. Haym was also author of another tra- ged3% (la Demodice) ; of an unsuccessful attempt at an histo- ry of music, on a good plan ; (jy*) and a Biblioteca Italiana {%) which has been unmercifully pillaged by Barretti. But as the dramas of this author have eluded my enquiries, and as he seems to be remembered rather as a musician than as a poet^ I shall not disturb his repose. Sir John Hawkins ascribes to Haym, the introduction of the Italian opera into England. Soon after the Merope of Maffei, appeared the Demodice of Giambatista Recanati, a Venetian gentleman, and the Didone of Giampieri, Cavezzoni Zanotta a Bolognese. The first was represented, with great applause (1720), in Modena, Ferrara and Venice. And.the Didone was published in Ve- rona (1721), dedicated to the marchioness Isotta Nogarola Pindemonte, (a) This tragedy is praised for its regularity, {y*) Harukin's Hist, of music, vol. v./. 167. (s) This useful work was published both at Venice and at Milan in 1741. But I am igno- rant of the year in which either the Merope, or Demodice first appeared. (fl) It should perhaps be observed, that the chorus is excluded from the Demodice of Re- caiiati and the Didone of Zanatti, as well as from the Merope of Maffei. This obscrvatioa will be found to apply, with few exceptions, to all tlie secular tragic dramas which appeared in Italy after this period. Maffei defends, with learning and ability, his rejection of x\k chorus, in his annotations on the fourth scene of the first act of the Merope, in the elegant edi- tion of that tragedy printed at Verona, 1745. for ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 245 for the vivid colouring of the passions, and for the beauty of SECT. the style ; but the autlior adhering too strictly to the con- . ^ ' . struction of the ancient tragedy, clears the stage in only two instances, '• La sceneggiatura," says Signorelli, " e pure alia maniera antica; ma due volte sole resta il teatro vuoto." How^ admirably has this subject been treated by Metastasio I Anxious to meet the wishes of his favourite Roman ina, every faculty of his soul was employed upon his Didone abban- donata. If therefore it be not, as has been said, the most elaborate of his operas, it is certainly one of the brightest effusions of his genius. Such is thy " so potent art" O Love! —Here let me again take occasion to lament, that a genius capable of such an effusion, should have been wasted upon mere lyric compositions ; and that the powers of such a mind should have been shackled by the trammels of music. — Divine bard ! if thy meek spirit still hovereth over this sub- lunary sphere, extend thy guardian care to the accomplished Briton who has lately raised a monument of elegant structure to thy name ! [b) In the same year with the Didone appeared the Ezze- lino of Girolamo Baruffaldi of Ferrara. In taking a subject from the annals of his own country, Baruffaldi stepped into a path heretofore but little frequented, though {h) See Memoirs of the life and •writings of the Abate Metastasio, By Charles Burnej, Land. 1.796. more 246 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, more likely to lead to fame than the beaten track of mytho- ^ ' . logy. In the tyrant of Padua he found an hero Damn'd to everlasting fame, in the Inferno of Dante, {c) and affording, from his eventful life, a fine subject for the tragic muse. But he seems to have succeeded better in his Giocasta la giovane (1725). In this tragedy the pathetic separation of Antigone and Osmene in the fifth act, is much admired, particularly the following lines : Dille del mio destin la cruda istoria, Dille che la sua madre al fin morio Tradita e invendicata : e se al mio petto Stringer non la potro, stringila al tuo. But the Ulisse il giovane of Domenico Lazzarini di Morro of Macerata soon eclipsed the tragedies of Barruffaldi. In this tragedy the author is said to have happily imitated the i^dipus of Sophocles, " richiamando sulla scena," says Sig- norelli, " tutto il terrore e la forza tragica del teatro Ate- niese." If by " terrore and forza," Signer Signorelli means a combination of shocking circumstances, certainly the dra- ma under consideration merits the eulogium he has bestowed {c) Canto xii. E quella fronte, ch' ha '1 pel cosi nero, E Azzolino. Some of the most interesting particulars of the life of this sangninary tyrant, may t)€ found in Islor. Fior. di Machiavelli. Lib, i. Misccll. luorks of E, Gibbon, wol. ii. and M. de Clairfon's valuable notes on his translation of the Inferno. L' Enfir, Floreti, il-jd, Eccelin owes his first introduction upon the stage to Mussato. upon ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. S47 upon it. For the hero is made to marry his own daughter, SECT. murder his son, extinguish both his eyes with the tongue of a . buckle, and then wander an outcast, bereaved of his senses, and haunted by spectres and furies. And all this happens, not because he is stained with any horrid crime, but because the gods would have it so : he is thus cruelly visited for the sins of his ancestors. Lui perseguon 1' Erinni, Fin dal suo nascimento, Non per colpa di lui. Ma per colpa dell' avo. The moral of the piece is thus delivered by the hero him- self : Impareranno omai Col mio misero esempio Que', che con vera frode, e virtu finta Calunnian le dottrine, E i costumi degli uomini innocenti, Se nella terza discendenza ancora Cade il fulmine.(<^) • If this tragedy be intended as a remedy for the disorders of the passions, according to the Aristotelian prescription, it must (J) The fable of this tragedy seems to have been constructed in the true spirit of the hor- rid superstition of ancient paganism which, as the admirable translator of Eschylus observes, " often impelled even the most religious persons to actions that were shocking to humanity, »nd at the same time left them exposed to infamy and punifhment, as if they had been volon- tarily guilty." Trag. of Eschj, trantlated by R, Poller, Lond. iTl<), id, ii. /. 22. indeed 248 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, indeed be allowed to be a violezit one : in fact it belongs to ^__^_^ that class of dreadful tales which, as they only give anguish to the reader, can never do good ; they fatigue, enervate and overwhelm the soul ; and when, as in the present case, the calaraaties which they describe are made to fall upon the in- nocent, our moral principles are in some danger of a tempo- rary depravation from the perusal, {e) Conti, who, as well as Baretti, praises the style of this drama, very justly observes, that " la passione dello spettatore gia consumata per la morte data dal padre al figliuolo, piu non si risveglia per quella della morte, che a se da la figliuola." (/) — This tragedy first ap- peared in Padua (1719) without the division of a6ls or scenes; but it was printed in Ferrara the following year, w-ith the usual divisions and properly adapted to the stage. A few years after (1724) it was admirably parodied by Valarezzo, a noble Venetian. In this PARODY {g) (the first that appear- ed in the Italian language) Maft'ei's Merope, as well as the tragedy of Lazzarini, is happily ridiculed, and the author oc- casionally levels his shafts, barbed with humour and pointed with satire, at the Greek tragedies. (f) For this just and ingenious remark, I am indebted to Dr. Beattie. Ess. on Poet, aiti Mm, part'x. ch.-], . ., . - ' in The fau^llwhfch'Cdnti 'reprehends in the Ulisse i! giovane, prevails too universally in the modern Italian tragedies. We have formerly noticed it, in speaking of the 'lancredi of Campeggi, see. note (n). [g) This parody entitled il Rutzvanscad, il giovane, was repuHiched in Venice in 1743, in the Kiiovo leatro Ilnlinno. And in Ohfewatkiis sur la comcdi:. Paris 1756, both the original tragedy and the parody are analized, Dominico ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 249 Dominico Lazzarini, was elected professor of Eloquence in SECT the university of Padua in the year 3710; a situation for . which, if we may credit the editor of his works, he was high- ly qualified. He recalled, says he, " le buone lettere dal loro esilio, restituiti gli studj all' antico splendore, e scossi dal misero e vergognoso letargo gl' ingegni Italiani." Of the year in which Lazzarini was born I am ignorant. Nor have any of his various productions reached me, except this trage- dy which we have just reviewed, his acute Osservazioni sopra la Merope, and the following sweet SONETTO AL SEPOLCRO DEL PETRARCA. Ecco dopo due lustri, o cigno eletto. Dove il tuo frale in un bel sasso e accolto, Torno, ma bianco il crin, rugoso il volto, E de I'antico amor purgato e netto. Ma se de la mia fiamma il freddo petto Piu non s'accende, e a pensier tristi e volto ^ Non pero del tuo stil leggiadro e colto Meno mi maraviglio, o mi diletto. Che quel foco onde ardesti, alma gentile, Tanto a quest' anni miei par dolce e bello, Quanto piu la ragion de' sensi e schiva. Oh fosse stato il mio sempre siaiile I Kk C! le 250 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Che dove or temo, in compagnia di quello Andrei lieto e sicuro a 1' altra riva.(^) Two lustres now are past, and I return. Sweet swan ! with furrow'd cheek, and silver hair> To where thy sacred relicks fill the urn. With heart at length releas'd from amorous care. What tho' my wonted fires no longer burn. And thoughts of gloomiest cast my bosom share. Yet not with less delight thy page I turn Nor yet to wonder or to praise forbear. For that pure flame that warm'd thy gentle breast. Now more seraphic to my age appears. As now the senses yield to reason's sway. O had my bosom been by such possest ! In that secure, and freed from all my fears. Joyful to other worlds I'd wing my way. Lazzarini was one of the few Italian poets who ventured to build a tragedy upon a subject of pure invention. Neither he nor Tasso seemed to think with Brumoy, " que la tragedie ne peut soufFrir de sujets feints;" and I accord in opinion "vvith them. For, as Dr. Blair observes, it is proved by expe- rience, that a fictitious tale, if properly conducted, will melt { h ) This Sonnet is preserved in the splendid edition of Le Rime del Petrarca, published in 1756, by Antonio Zatta, a spirited printer of Venice. the ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 251 the heart as much as any real history. "Accordingly," he con- SECT. tinues " sonae of the most pathetic tragedies are entirely fie- . ^" . titious in the subject; such as Voltaire's Zaire and Alzire, the Orphan, Douglas, the Fair Penitent, and several others/'(/) But when a fancy, like that of Lazzarini, is apt to run riot, it requires the awful restriction of historic truth. *' U Elettra del conte Gasparo Gozzi, which was printed in 1758, may cope with the Torrismondo of Tasso," says Baretti. Stimulated by this eulogium I sought for Gozzi's Elettra. I found it, read it, and was not disappointed. The character of Orestes is admirably supported. And insanity, resulting from the horrors of a guilty mind, is capitally de- scribed in the last scene. Ore. Cessate, Here Eumenidl, Cessatc; ah! ch' io conosco Quel braccio, che vendetta Del parricidio prende. Deh, non ferite ancora, Ancora non ferite. ( /) Aribtotle, wlio is allowed to legislate despotically in almost every department of lite- rature, does not ordain, that tragedy should be invariably founded on received fables or historic facts : he even acknowledges that tragedies of which the incidents and characters are equally feigned, do not fail to give pleasure. When Horace says. Ex nolo fictum carmen sequar, he only means to recommend a known subject, from the difficulty of keeping up to nature and probability in subjects of our own invention. ,K k 2 Oime, 252 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Oime, ch' io veggo, Che Clitennestra Ne vien con voi. Essa vi stimola A non far conto Delle mie grida, e del mio pianto amaro. Al suo furore Ecco inasprite. E la sua voce Vie piu v'accende. Madre, rafFrena alquanto ira si grave ; Perche se' tanto al tuo figliuol avversa? Umilmente t'abbraccio le ginocchia. Non ispronar contra il tuo figlio Oreste Queste tremende dee. Tu non m' ascolti? Oime, tu aggiungi sdegno, e tu le infiammi A far la tua vendetta. Ah! ch' ella stessa Infuriata mi s' avventa incontra. Ella stessa. Ovefuggo? Ella m* e addosso, Ahi, ch' io son morto. Cease, relentless furies, O cease ; methinks I know- That arm already rais'd To deal dread vengeance on the parricide. Oh, strike not yet. Spare, o spare me yet a while, Alas, ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 253 Alas, I see SECT. My mother's vengeful shade ' ^ Attends your steps. Her voice. Her furious mien. Add fuel to your rage. Mother! restrain thy dreadful ire. Why this wrath against thy son.'' Humbly I embrace thy knees. — Incense not these tremendous powers Against thy once lov'd son. You hear me not! Alas, you spurn at me, and urge them on To vengeance. Ah, she herself Infuriate, leads the charge. 'Tis she ! 'tis she! Where shall I fly? She is on me! Would heaven my death were nigh. After a slight interruption by Electra, the frenzy of Ores- tes is renewed, still dwelling on the same idea, and occa- sionally exhibiting pathetic strokes that reach the heart. At length the wretched paricide sinks, exhausted ; and a moral reflection of Electra concludes the piece. If Gozzi has evinced uncommon poetic fire in the madness of Orestes, he has shewn equal judgment in the shortness of its duration. For, " when madness has taken possession of the person, such character ceases to be fit for the stage, or at least should ap- pear 254 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, pear there but for a short time; it being the business of the __^^ theatre to exhibit passions, not distempers. "(^) Of an author endued with such powers, I should have been glad to have learned some particulars ; but my enquiries were not attended with success. That he was " letterato e dottis- simo," I am willing to think with Goldoni ; and that he was a voluminous writer I cannot doubt, for his works in six volumes octavo, now lie before me, containing Tragedie, Comedie, Cantate, Lettere e Rime serie e piacevoli. With the lighter effusions of his pen, I have nothing to do ; but I shall briefly notice his serious dramas. Besides the Elettra, which we have already considered, I find amongst our au- thor's works, the following tragedies, Marianne, Zaire, Edipo, and Medea ; and three rappresentazione, I'Antiochia, Isaccio and Marco Polo. Marianne and Zaira are free translations from Voltaire. As the well-known story of GEdipus has received neither em- bellishment nor injury at our author's hands, I shall only just observe, that it has two choruses which form the crowd of supplicants prostrate at the foot of the altar, which renders the opening of Sophocles' tragedy so solemn and so magni- ficent. The rites performed, the choruses retire with the priests, and only appear occasionally afterwards. They sing no odes, and their leader, except in a single instance, is silent throughout the piece. Not finding my attention arrested {k) Pu ^ ' . Baretti, " as Madame Dacierdid into French." \n 1761 appeared, vnider the Arcadian name of Lauriso Targiense, twelve tragedies in four volumes quarto, by Padre Giovanni Antonio Bianchi. Of these dramas eight are in prose, viz ; Don Alfonso, Jefte, Matilde, Toramaso More, Demetrio, Marianna, Dina, and Ruggiero ; — and four in verse, Atalia, David, Gionata and Virginia. Neat, judicious, and regular, but wanting that depth of interest and vigour of style so essentiall}'^ necessary for a public theatre, they have been confined to the teatrino, or little theatre yet existing in the convent of Orvietto, for which they were originally writ- ten. Two comedies by Bianchi are still inedited. Having^ indulged with Melpomene, and sported awhile with Thalia, our author entered the lists with Giannone, the profound his- torian of Naples. Losing in this combat some of his laurels, he again turned his thoughts to the stage, and published a work entitled De' vizj e de* difetti del moderno teatro. Bianchi was born in 1688 and died in 1758. Italy now abounded in votaries of the tragic muse offering their JirstJings. Amongst those of whom history condescends to give even a simple list, I distinguish Count Ludovic Savioli, a senator of Bologna ; a writer who has since risen to emi- nence in the literary world, and wliose warm and spriglitly Amori entitle him to the appellation of the Anacreon of Italy. Respecting, as I do, the talents and virtues of Count Savioli, and ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 259 and once lionorcd with his acquaintance, I am happy in trans- SECT. cribing the following eulogium on hitn by Metastasio. In a ^/^ , letter to Farinelli dated 18th of July 1765, he says, " by the infinite esteem which I have long felt for Count Savioli, the favourite of the muses, I have always done myself more honor than him. I beg of you to represent to him my lively sense of his partiality." The Morte di Achillc, whicli entitles the count to a place in this work, I have not seen. But his love-breathing Amori now lie before me. (J)) In his de- dication to the Duchess of Bracciano, he thus speaks of him- self and of these early effusions of his muse. " L'ambizione non m' ha certamente condotto a scrivere. Ho cominciato a farlo in una eta predominata da una passione piu necessaria, piu funesta, e piu cara. Ma almeno se a questa ho saputo resister poco, mi lusingo di potermi defender meglio dall altra." As the little poem of il Teatro bears some affinity to the nature of this work, I had originally intended to give it as a specimen of our author's poetic levities ; but I am in- duced to yield Its purposed place to a sonnet by the ingenious Count, of which my friend Mr. Boyd, the admirable trans- lator of Dante's inferno, has favoured me with a translation. (/) This edition, which was printed with elegance at Bassano in 1789, is embellished with a portrait of the author. Another ediiion appeared in 1790, with L:i Faoniade of Signer Imperial!, the reputed author of a delicious little romance, on 'he Greek model, entitled, Lc Avvcnture di Saffo, poetessa di Mitilene. L 1 2 SONETTO. g6o HISTORICAL MEMOIR SONETTO. Sul sepokro di Dante Alighieri. (j) E qui lontano dalla patria ingrata, Onde concittadino odio t'escluse, GiacI straniero peso. A la gelata, Pietra angusta mi prostro, che ti chiuse. Ma deh ne 1' ardua via per te segnata, Dell primo alunno de le tosche muse Dimmi, e pur ver che Beatrice amata Fu la tua scorta, e '1 dolce stil t' infuse ? E s' e pur vero, o padre, e s' io discerno Chiaro ne' carmi il tuo bel foe© antico, Colei qual era, e con che forza amasti ? Ardo anch' io da molt' anni \ oggetto a i casti Voti e una dea ; ma con chi piango, e dico ! Dorme il cenere sacro un sonno eterno. Far from proud Tuscany 's ungrateful soil^ Here sleeps thy corse, by civil hate expel'd. Poor emigrant I by thy chill tomb awhile I'll lay me down, where rest thy bones conceal'd. But in that arduous path by thee explor'd. Prime foster-child of Arno's tuneful choir. Say, did thy love a guiding hand afford. And wake in other worlds thy vent'rous lyre ? (a) The biographers of Dante are indebted to Count Savioli for the discoverj' of a decree, by which tlie fatlier of Italian poetry was condemned to be burnt alive ! As ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 261 As yet, O father, in ihy living strains SI.CT. I mark the fervor of thine antient fire, ^ " , \'. lierc, deathless as her charms, thy passion glows. Like thee, I burn, and breathe my fruitless vows. To one whose fate awakes my plaintive lyre ; Iler sacred dust eternal sleep detains. I find history dwelling with great complacency on Alfonso Varano, a nobleman of Camerino, who died, loaded with honors and with years, in 1788. His Demetrio, Giovanni di GiscaLi and x^gnese are known to all lovers of the drama. But the Giovanni di Giscala is rendered most interesting by the nature of its subject: it rolls on tlie destruction of Jerusalem, a circumstance upon which no christian can reflect with frigid inditl'erence. This tragedy was published, with great typographical splendour, at Venice in 1754, and each act adorned with engravings of medals struck in honor of Titus and Vespasian. Not many years after, it was represented in the college of Reggio ; and I have heard a student of that college, who was present, express much delight at the recollection of the music with which the chorus that concludes each act, was acco nf anied. The chorus, he observed, took no part in the dialogue, but stood at the lower end of the stage until tlie act was concluded ; and then advancing, sung irregular odes of a moral ten- dency. The Demetrio, " qui passe," says De la Lande, " pour une des meilleures tragedies qu' on ait en Italic," appeared ia 2(?2 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, in Padua in 1745, adorned also with engravings, which are ^ y ' better executed than designed. In this tragedy the chorus, as in the former, takes no part in the dialogue, only filling up the intervals between the acts with odes which contribute nothins: towards the advancement of the main action. In the preface we are told, that the author " non V ha voluta priva de' cori al fine degli atti, come da' Latini, e prima da' Greci si costumo." A chorus thus idly looking on during the pro- gress of the action, seems merely intended for scenical em- bellishment, or to give a classical air to the piece, and might therefore be lopped off as an excrescence, in the representa- tion.(r) I have observed several choruses written or intro- duced, apparently with the same view, and which, it is pro- bable, the authors never intended should be either " sung or said."(s) The choral songs, however, in the Agnese (/) are not of that nature: they are addresses to the deity in behalf of the ()•) In the AKiJa of Giacomo Cortone, (Pad. i6i^J the coro di donzelle cantatrici, do not tske any part in the dialogue, nor do the odes which they sing at the end of each act, serve either to link, or to promote the main action : but in alio i. sc. 6, they warble a soft air for the purpose of attuning the princess' soul to love; a circumftance which muft ha*e an happy cffedl in representation. This tragedy (ivhich has little else to recommend it to our notice) was, we are told, recited, during the government of Vicenzo Capeilo, in Udine; a city in which letters once flourished under the auspices of the academia degli Suentaii. (s) Soir.e of the choruses in Tasso's Aminta are short poems, or madrigals borrowed from his Gioje di rimee prose. See Manage's valuable ed. of the Aminta, Ven, 1736./. 53. Of the same nature are the choruses in the Clitia of Machiavelli. And I have reason to think, that on a careful examination of the choruses of several Italian tragedies, it would be found, that Melpomene has often pressed fugitive pieces into her service. (/) Par/i a. Dalla Slam^ria icalr. i~i9^, exnirinP" ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. eiSq > expiring martyr. In the first, strengtli to endure the ago- SECT. nies of the cross, is entreated : in the latter, a petition for the passing soul is offered. The scene of this drama is laid in Japan, a circumstance which affords tlie author an opportu- nity of exhibiting a striking picture of customs and manners unknown before on the Italian stage. The heroic fortitude of S. Agnese is well supported ; and her reasons for " the faith that is in her," are powerfully urged. The tender af- fection of Neita serves to soften the horror of the catastrophe. And the luminous appearances which are either seen or de- scribed, descending on the house and cross of S. Agnese, heighten the interest of the piece by seeming to manifest tlie divine interference. This, as well as the other dramas of our author, is printed with great elegance, in quarto, and adorned with engravings, one of whicli represents the mar- tyrdom of the heroine. In 1769 died the celebrated Jesuit Giovanni Granelli, chaplain and librarian to the Duke of Modena, whose trage- dies of Sedecia, Manasse, Dione, and Seila figlia di Jefte, are ranked by his countrymen with the Merope and Demetrio, They seem to dwell with marked delight upon the beauties of those tragedies ; but as I have already exceeded the limits originally prescribed to this essay, I shall not pause to partake of their pleasure. I shall only extract a passage from the 82- decia in which the 'deity is thus made to speak : Chi s64 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Chi son io, dice Dio, che ne 1' Egitto, Anzi che in me, le tue speranze afficU ? Quella forse e la terra, ondc Israello Debba sperar salute, e quelle 1' armi, Che di me non curando e del mio tcnipio, In sua difesa infedelmente implori? Perche a sottrarne i vostri antichi padti Cola fee' io tanti prodigj orrendi ? Perche poi da 1' Egitto un di sperasse La casa di Giacob salvezza e regno? Surely Denina could not have seen the last of these trage- dies when he lamented, that the author was debarred, by the rules of his society, from the introduction of female charac- ters ? If the laws of the private theatre of the Jesuits were so unfriendly to female characters, as Signor Denina represents them to have been, the daughter of Jeptha certainly tempted Granelli to violate them. Having never inspected this tra- gedy, I am not prepared to offer an opinion on its merits ; and the analysis of Signorelli is too slight to be satisfactory. From this analys's I only learn, that the author has height- ened the distress of Seila's " tale of tears" by giving her a lover. («) This lover has been lately borrowed by the author (u) This subject was probably suggested to Granelli by I'opera de Jephte, which appeared in Paris in 1732, and which was " la premiere tragedic sainte qui a cie representee sur le the" atre de I'opera depuis son etablisscment." //«/. t/u thiat. dc I'acad. roy. de Musiq. torn. ii. /. 120. rar. 1757. In the French opera, as well as in the Italian tragedy, the daughter of Jeptha has her lover. of k ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. z6>i o of a drama on the same subject, which was performed, a few SECT. years since, in Naples. — A select collection of the works of . " . Granelli appeared in Modena, 1772, under the title of, Poesie scelte del padre Giovanni Granelli della compagnia di Gesu. De la Lande ranks our author with the best tragic poets of Italy. The Abate Saverio Bettinelli now demands our notice. His Gionata, Demetrio Poliorcete and Serse re di Persia, have been honored with the warmest applause, particularly the pathetic lamentations of Saul in the Gionata, and the following patriotic sentiment in Demetrio : Dolce e morire per la patria, tutto Per lei versiamo il sangue, clla su noi Piangera, benche tardi ; a questo prezzo Dal fiero eccidio ella compasse almeno. In the Serse is introduced a ghost whose appearance is described in a manner not inferior to the celebrated descrip- tion of the spirit of Loda in the Death of Cuchullin.(M*) Un lamentevol suon parmi improvviso Da lunge udir che piu s' apprcssa: io veggio Fra una pallida, luce in quel momento Terribile apparir mesto fantasma, {u*) See Osiiau's Poems, M m Bendc 266 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Bende funeree a vedovili panni Tutto !o ricoprian: celava il volto Lugubre velo : per le nian traea Tutto sparse di lagrime un fanciullo, 10 tento di fuggir ma non so dove. . . In quello un pianto, un gemito dolente Mi raddoppia il terror, odo, o udir parnii 11 fatal nome risonar d' Amestri. Mi volgo, e la ravviso ; ella era dessa, Che squarciatasi il velo, ancor le belle. Ma confuse sembianze a me scopriva, lo correr voglio a lei, ma ignota forza Or mi trattiene, or mi respinge, e miro, Ch' ella stringeva insanguinato ferro, E al garzone il porgea. Parmi vederia, Parmi ascoltarla ancor, che tra i singhiozzi Ignoti sensi mormorava, e il nome Di Dario ripetea. All on a sudden lamentable screams Were heard deep swelling on the startled ear. And onward, with augmented clamour, came: Then, rising in a pale and dubiousjight, A ghost appear'd in majesty of woe. Sepulchral fillets, and the sabJe stole Of widowhood, she wore. A beauteous child Whose cherub face was all with tears bedew'd. She led, — I meant to fly, but try'd in vain. Laments ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 267 Laments more loud and deeper groans were heard That froze my blood, and fetter'd every limb. Sudden, methought, I heard the fatal name Amestris, — round I turn'd, with steadfast gaze, Resolv'd on certainty, — 'Twas she herself! — Rending her veil, those lineaments divine Dawn'd on my sight, tho' dimly yet descry'd. I struggled to approach her, but in vain; — A viewless arm withheld me, — yet I turn'd Again to gaze,— and lo ! a gory blade Brandish'd by that fair hand, and at the breast Aim'd of the lovely boy! I saw her threat; I heard her loud complaints, in mingled sighs Half lost; and yet by intervals I caught The name of great Darius. After reading this passage, we are not surprised at hearing the Roman reviewers(«'f ) confess, that the perusal of the Serse " ha prodotto nel nostro cuore quel terrore, quella compas- sione, e tutta quella commozione di aftetti, che si di raro si ottiene in tanta quantita di tragedie, che abbiamo lette, o ve- dute rapprcsentare." The Serse was first ( 1767) represented in a private theatre in Verona. The principal character was performed by the Marquis Albergati Capacelli. The other dramas of our author have been repeatedly represented in the public theatres of Venice, Parma and Bologna. His trans- (b+) Efem. Letter, di Roma far A f rile , 1772. M m 2 lation 268 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, lation of Roma Salvata, which was printed at Bassano iii ,^___^ 1771,(2/;};) has been also well received on several stages in. Italy. Saverio Bettinelli was born, in the year 1718, Presso a la riva ove il bel Mincio Coronato di salici, e di canne Feconda il culto e lieto suo paese. Entering early into the order of the Jesuits, he abandoned, for awhile, his native country ; but when M. De la Lande visited Mantua in 17%, he had returned, in order to devote the remainder of his life to the service of those muses who had smiled propitiously on his birth. " Si quelqu'un peut rappeller a Mantoue le souvenir de Virgile," says this en- lightened traveller, " c'est M. I'Abbe Bettinelli, autrefois je- suite, et qui est revenue dans son pa)'S." In 1769 our author published in Milan " un ouvrage plein d'imagination et de gout," says M. De la Lande, entitled Dell' entusiasmo delle belle arti. His poem against the Raccolte, which appeared (7i\) In the same year (1771) a complete collection of his dramatic works was published in Rome, with " una cantata per la vcnuta dell' imperatore a Roma." To this edition is pre- fixed, Un Discorso intorno al Teatro Iialiano, ed alia Tragedia, in whicli the author laments, that women are proscribed the stage of the order to which he belongs : " una niadre, una sposa, una sorella, e molto piu le amanti," says he, eziandio le piii saggie e piu cestumate sa- icbbono scandalo e colpa — e quindi e chiusa per noi la sorgente piii naturale degli aSetti umani piu dilicati." This illiberal restriction on genius was, however, sometimes violated by ibe sons of Saint Ignatius, about ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 269 about the same time, has been much praised. And his cele- SECT. brated Letters to the Arcadian academy of Rome were so ,_^_/ well received in France, that a French translation of them appeared at Paris in 1759. About tliis time a crowd of translations of ancient and modern tragedies issued from the press in different parts of Italy, amongst which are particularly deservingof notice those of my learned and ingenious friend, the Abate Melchior Cesarotti ; namely, the Mahomet and C?esar of Voltaire. To these he added when I was in Padua (1792), the Semira- mis of the same versatile genius. But whoever shall read the- character of Cesarotti as drawn by Metastasio, must lament with me that he should waste his talents on translation. In a letter to his friend Mattei, Metastasio says ; " I am extreme- ly grateful for the valuable acquisition which your golden writings have procured me of so valiant, learned and cele- brated a champion as the Abate Cesarotti ; whose vast know- ledge, sublime genius, and wonderful activity I have long ad- mired in every species of pleasing and profound literature." Cesarotti has endeared himself to the lovers of the simple pro- ductions of our early bards, by his admirable translation of Ossian's Poems. And the admirers of Homer are equally indebted to him for the rich Italian garb with which he has invested the venerable father of epic poetry. In 1772 the promise of a laurel crown by the sovereign of Parma, excited the exertions of the tragic muse. Amongst her 270 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, her most successful efforts are enumerated the Zelinda (m§) ^^^- of Count Calini of Brescia, and the Carrado and Rossana {ii\\ ) of Francesco Antonio Magnocavallo ; the Auge of Filippo Trenta, and the Valsei, ossia I'Eroe scozzese of Antonio Perabo of Milan, " giovane di alte speranze," saysSignorelli, " morlo qualche anno appresso." The first crown was ad- judged to the author of the Valsei ; the second to Filippo Trenta, a nobleman of Ascoti, whose translation of Gil Bias is much admired by his countrymen. The Auge (««f[) seems to be only known in Italy ; but the Valsei attracted the notice of an ingenious Englisli critic, who, in the Gentleman's Magazine for March 1787, thus speaks of it. " This piece, says he, is cui-ious, as founded on British history, which is rarely used by foreign poets ; espe- cially that of Scotland, upon which no other foreign drama occurs, except the Amelie et Monrose, recently acted with success at Paris. But besides that extrinsic quality, this tra- (;/§) Parma, i-j-jz, 4.10 l3 Sfs. It is observed by an Italian critic, that " tutto il piano, k condotta, il nodo, e lo scicgKmento" of the Zelinda, are taken from the Blanche cl Guiscarde of M. Saurin, " con qualche imitazione of the Tancrede and Sigismonda of Thomfon. E/em, Lett, di Roma, sett, i-jii. Count Vincenzo Mangoli del Monte, author of the Bianca ed Enrico, (Mod. i77i)» has similar obligations to those celebrated dramas. («||) I transcribe, with pleafure, the following eloge on the author of the Corrado and Rossano. An ingenious critique on the Corrado concludes thus : Francesco Ottavio Magno Cavallo, Conte di Varengo di Casal-Monferrato, author of this piece, is a " cavaliere pieno di mcrito, architetto riputato, amatore di tutti gli ottimi studj, e per mille virtudi e pregi inorali caro al mondo, e henemerito della sua patria, la quale dee ringraziarlo ancora di averla con una bella tragedia sua nazionale onorata." 1'he Corrado was printed in Parma, («^) Parma, 1774, \to, y 8^5. gedy ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 271 gecly deserves tlie public notice, as being one of the best re- SECT. gular tragedies, in five acts and blank verse, which Italy has . produced during this century. — The plot of this tragedy," he continues, " is complete, having neither too much nor too little intrigue; and is as near historic truth as necessary. The amorous part is kept quite subservient ; and is thus far supe- rior to most French tragedies. The characters are well sus- tained. The sentiments just and fine. The language is simple, strong, and noble ; and is every where free from any concetto, false thoughts, or false beauty. No wonder then (v) that this piece on representation gained *la prima corona'." The following speech, breathing the spirit of Wallace, me- rits transcription. Scozzesi illustri, valorosi eroi, Del patrio regno a sostenere elettt La contrastata libcrta, di questo Non sorse ntiai piu glorioso giorno ; Ne piu lieto per noi. Riveste alfine, Merce '1 vostro valor, la patria in oggi II suo splendor, la mafista primiera; E r anglo altier, tanto temuto un tempo Piu non osando a nuove prove in campo La gloria e.spor delle Britanne insegne, Di chi apprese a temer, comincia alfine ("») Lest 1 should be accufed of heedlesness, it is necessary I should observe, that this asser- tion of the ingenious ciitic, is not strictly correct. I dritti' 272 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, I dritti a respettar. Amico vostro ^__ ■__, Or s' offre a voi ; a voi la pace or chiede. Scozzesi, e questo il sospir^to istante, Che di tant' anni i vigorosi sforzi Deve alfin coronar. Quel zelo istesso, Che la destra v' armo per sua difesa. Col labbro mio da voi la patria implora In questo di, die stabil forma, e base, Al suo destin dovra fissar per sempre. This tragedy issued from the royal press of Parma in 1774 (^'0 At this time appeared several other tragedies which, if they do not evince much genius, are composed at least with art and judgment, viz ; the Servio Tullio of Carlo Antonio Monti, the Arsene and Giulio Sabino of Count Guglielmo Bevilacqua, the Idameneo of Dottore Willi, and the Bibli (z»:') of Count Paolo Emilio Campi. The last of these, though posses- sed of considerable merit, disgusts from its subject, like the Phedre [x) of Racine, and that highly finished com- position. The Mysterious Mother of Lord Orford. (y) Amongst (f*) 4^a. and Stu. (lu) The story on which this tragedy is founded, was drawn from Ovid, see Meiam, lib. ix. fnb. xi. See also Trioifi del Petrnna, cnp. ii. with the learned annotations of Bernardo Lycinio. Opere dil Pctrarcn, Ven. ijoS.yb/. /. 16. (x) Racine, in order to reconcile his reader? to his subject, tells them, that in his drama " Ics passions n' y sont presentees aux yeux que pour montrer tout Ic disordrc dont elles sont cause." ()') When it is known that Lord Orford deeply regretted the choice of his subject, I shall nor, 1 trust, be accused of treating it will) too much severity. But let us do the noble author justice. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. !i73 Amongst the canons of the stage there ought to be one pro- SECT. scribing the appearance of characters stained with the foul > ^' ^ crimes of incest or adultery ; for whenever the stage shall render such crimes familiar, it will cease to be a school of morality. — The Bibli first appeared (1774) in Modena, the native city of the author, and was represented, with great ap- plause, in the private theatre of that court. In 1778 appeared in Florence the Ulisse of the Marquis Ippolito Pindemonte of Verona, "acclamato," says an Italian critic, " tra' valorosi poeti viventi." In this tragedy the Greek simplicity is judiciously united with the bustle of the modern stage. To the Ulisse of Pindemonte, that of Fran- cesco Franceschi, published in 1773, was obliged to yield the palm. justice. The artful manner in which the plot of his tragedy is conducted, lessens, in a great degree, the danger attending the introduction of such a story upon the stage. Through the four first acts, we behold the contrition, and we admire the charities of the countess, but we are kept in ignonTnce of tlic enormity of her crime till the truth bursts from her, in a fit of in- sanity, in the last act. The shock is powerful, — the impression deep, — and the fall of the curtain leaves us to retire " full with horrors." Having been induced to dilate, perhaps impertineutly, upon The Mysterious Mother, I shall take this occasion to observe, that the fable upon which this inimitable tragedy is built, is minutely detailed by Bandello, {Nov. 35. jian is.) who heard it related by the queen of Navarre to his patroness, Gostanza Rangona e Fregosa. Bandello's novel is thus intituled : " Un Gentiluomo Navarrese sposa una che era sua sorella e figliuola, non lo sapendo." This story also appears amongst the tales of the queen of Navarre; but whether it was first given to the public by Bandello, or by her majesty, 1 cannot determine. Le prime tre parte delle Novelle del Bandello was published at Lucca, 1 554, and the earliest edition of L' Hep- tameron of the queen mentioned by De Bure, {Bibliog. Instruct, torn. ii. ;*. 94. Par, 1765.) is that of Paris, 1 560 ; but as the title-page of this edition adds, " remis en ordrc par Claude Grugct," there was, probably, an earlier. Nn La 274 HISTORICAL MEMOIR La Gibilterra salvata of this ingenious nobleman, has re- ceived its due meed of praise from the anonymous author of A Poetical Tour in the years 1784, I785, and 1786. — Pindemont ! thy liberal mind Scorns to one spot to be confia'd. Like Jove himself thy equal eye Can virtue's every haunt descry. To every shore thy sail's unfurl'd Poet and patriot of the world. The same pleasing poet, in an epistle from Florence, after lamenting his having yielded to the soft allurements of plea- sure at Venice, takes occasion to compliment the marquis on his tragedy. Ah! how unlike to thee, whom still secure In pleasure's lap fair science can allure. Nor more thy own Ulysses could disdain, Tlie cup Circean, or the Syren's strain. In the same year with the Ulisse of Pindemonte, the Calto of Giuseppe Maria S^vi met the public eye. This was the first time an hero of Ossian appeared upon the Italian stage.(a) But the author has failed both in truth of man- ( a ) The Abate Cesarotii, following the example of Mr. Macphe;:son, has g;ven the little poem of Comala a dramatic form, b'.it without any view, I believe, of its introduction upon the stage, though he ssys that " adattata alia musica da un dotto maestro, e frtgiata dclie dccorazioni convenienti, elia potrebbc cssere un' opera d' un nuovo gusto, e far gran- dissimo efFetto anche ai tempi nostri." Pus. di Ossian. Nizza, l-jSo. lorn. \. f. i8i. ners. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 275 ners, and of character. His lieroes, though simple hunters SECT. in a rude age, speak tlie language and sentiments of the mo- . ^ ' , derii court. We need not therefore wonder that this drama did not succeed on the stage. Perhaps another cause of its want of success might be assigned ; — it required eight different changes of scenery, an expence which the slender revenues of the theatrical managers of the day could ill af- ford. In 1779 appeared anonymously at Bassano, Ugolino, Conte de' Gherardeschi. But the horror attending the circumstance of a man dying of hunger through five long acts, disgusted the readers and the auditoi's, and the play fell to the ground. It requires the genius of a Dante, or a Reynolds(6) to seize on the true pathetic point of time in this interesting story. Let us however do our unknown author the justice to declare, that the following lines cannot be read without emotion, Ugolino, dreading a dem.and from his sons for sustenance, exclaims, V udro di nuovo Chiedermi un pane, ne in risposta avrete Fuor che inutili lasrrime c lament!. Nor are his expiring words wanting in pathos. — Figli — Guelfo — ove siete? Nino, io muojo, E ti perdono. ( b ) Perhaps I should have added Chaucer, who, in his tragedy of Hugelin of Pise, hat preserved all the pathos of this affecting story. See Tiie Monies Tale. N n 2 In 276 HISTORICAL MEMOIR In the same year the press imparted La conjiura di Milano, and the Pentea of Alessandro Verri, under the modest title of Tentativi, These v/ere followed by the Diluvio Univer- sale, Anticristo, Andelasia in Italia, la rovina di Gerusalem- me, Tomiri, Nabucco, Davide, and Sara of Padre Ringhieri, all full of tragic monstrosities, and written in a vulgar style. These were succeeded (1787) by two volumes of Caprice! teatrali, of which Gertruda rcgina d' Arragona, Giulio Sa- bino in Roma, and Odoardo, are esteemed the best. Nor must we forget the Cleopatra of Scipione Cigala, though it has little to recommend it to our notice but the following quib- bling distich to which it gave birth: Scipio hie est; non is quo victa est Africa i at ille Sternum pariet cui Cleopatra decus. This distich, of which the point lies in a play on the chris- tian name (Scipio) of Cigala, is preserved in the Dramma- turgia, and attributed to Giuseppe Aurelio di Gennaro, a lawyer and latin poet of Naples. In 1788 the senator Marescalchi of Bologna entered the lists with our Shakspeare, and received the palm from his^ countrymen. But not having read his Antonio e Cleopatra, it would ill become me to enter a demur against the decree. However I will confess, that from one passage in this tragedy which accidentally met my observation, I am not inclined to think very highly of the author's dramatic powers. While Cleopatra; ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 277 Cleopatra is in the temple expecting a visit from Augustus, "S^CT. she asks her maid, in the true spirit of a modern coquette, if i ^ her dress becomes her, — " sc Ic sue vesti si accord i no col suo volto." This question certainly ill accords v/ith the circum- stances under which it is asked. In 1788 also the Baccanali and the Coloni di Candia drew the public attention. And in 1789 the Agamemnon of So- phocles, and the Iphigenia of Euripides were again intro- duced upon the stage in an Italian dress. Still Carlo I. re d' Ingbiltcrra, by the Abate Giambatista Alessandro Moreschi of Bologna, kept the stage. On a peo- ple taught to behold, witli reverential awe, the sovereigns of their little states, such a subject would naturally have a striking effect ; and the amiable private virtues of the unfor- tunate Charles,, must engage every feeling heart in his me- lancholy fate.(c) As a specimen of this tragedy, I shall transcribe Fairfax's advice to Charles. Atto ii. Sc. 5. Hai tu vaghezza Di grande tanto divenir, che alcuno Pareggiar non ti possa.'' Ardisci, o Carlo, D' alzare oltre te stesso il tuo pensiero? (f ) In 1652, three years after the death of Charles, we find Lorenzo Crasso, the Dray, ton of Italy, speaking of the fate of this prince as an event more deeply affecting than any thing ever exhibited on the Greek or Roman stage. " Tragedia piu lacrimabile non rap- presentaron gia mai o le Thebane, h le Romanc scene, di quella di Carlo P Stuard, re d' Inghilterra." Argument to the epistle entitled, Carlo Stuard ad H', M', di Bofbone. See £/«/. herokh, di LorttiKaCraito, Vin, \t^^. Lo oys HISTORICAL MEMOIR Lo scettro a te cagion di lungo afTanno Osa deporre, cittadin diventai Imita Silla, e sii majgior d' Augusto. Perhaps too the reader would be pleased to see Cromwell drawing his own character under the direction of an Italian master. Diadema non euro, b regia spoglia; Voglio il commando. Alma non ho capace Di servitii. Dovunque nato io fossi, lo eomandar dovea. L'utile nome Di liberta, che si 1' Ingl'ese apprezza, Qui mi chiama a regnar : altrove usato D' altro consiglio avrei. This tragedy first appeared in 1783. Count Alessandro Pepoli, a native of Bologna also, and one of the brightest living ornaments of his country,(7) en- tered the dramatic walk with the author of Carlo I. Though still a young man, seven tragedies have already fallen from his pen. He boasts, and his productions justify the bold as- sertion, that he was born a poet. " Posso vantarmi," says he, "d' essere nato poeta." It may almost be said he "lisp'd in numbers ;" for his little poem of Gli Amori di Zefiro e Clori, appeared before he had attained his fifteenth year. In the year 1783, the royal press of Parma imparted with its usual elegance, his Tentativi dell' Italia, cioe Eduigi, Cleo- nice. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 279 nice, Irene, e don Rodri) that of Adelinda by Signora Teresa Venier ; and in the (/+) This tragedy was reprinted (1792) by Bodoni in Parma, fS'vo.J under the title of ♦' Carlo ed Isabella." {/X } An elegant edition of this tragedy, entitled Adelinde, appeared vaParma, 1791. 8^•a. (g) This theatre is in the hall of the palace, which Mr. Wright considers one of the noblest halls he has ever seen. It has a portico at each end, with pillars of the corinthiaii order which support a gallery above. On each side is a sort of vestibulum (the cieling painted in fresco) which has an open passage each way. Through these and the porticos, you may go quite round the hall, which goes up to the top of the house. Tra'v. 'vol, ii. {h) Goldoni praises the talents of the Marquis Alberg.iti both as an actor, and as an au- thor. " Qiiesto signore notissimo ncUa repubblica letteraria per le sue traduzioni di molte tragedie francesi, per le buone comracdie fatte da tui, •« piii ancora per la siima che nefacev.i. il Signer Voltaire, independentemente dalla sua scienza e dal suo genio, aveva i piii felici ta- lenti per la declamazione teatrale ; e non vi era in Italia comieo, ne dilettante, che rapprescn- tasse al pari di lui gli eroi tragiei, e gli amorosi nelle ct»mmedie." Mem dtl sig. Goldoni. torn. ii. p. 119. Dr. Burney was much pleased with a comedy entitled II saggio Amico, by tjic Marquis, which he saw performed in the theatre of Brescia. '« It was," says he, " the first 28(5 rtlSTORIGAL MEMOIR SECT, the character of Romeo, the author himself is said to have K_\ displayed great theatrical powers. Having been thus led to speak again of the SCENIC EX- HIBITIONS of the Italians, I hope I shall be excused if I should here dilate a little upon that interesting subject. Mention having been already made of the S3dvan and mo- nastic theatres, it only now remains to notice, with the bre- vity consistent with my plan, those theatres which were erected for private amusement in the palaces of the nobility and gentry, and for public use in the principal cities. Before the time of Palladio, the public and private theatres of modern Italy seem to have been designed without skill or taste, and constructed rudely and inelegantly. Nor was the scenery less rude than the edifice. Instead of painted scenes, rural views were represented with trees made of silk: an idea first conceived by Girolamo Genga, and carried into execu- tion by him in the theatre appertaining to the polished court of Urbino,(?) a court which once concentrated all the wit and first (con-.edy) which I had ever seen in Italy without a Harlequin, Colombine, Pierro, ar.d Dottore: it was more like a regular comedy than the Italian pieces usually are." Pns. State ef Music in France arid Italy, p. ii8. Voltaire sent (1760) a copy of his Tancrede to tlie accomplikhed nobleman who is the subject of this note, accompanied with a litter in vvhich^ he extols the ] rcvailiiig practice of private plays in Italy, not only as an elegant amusement,; but as a prelection against ennui. A translation of the Tancrede was undertakeri, and, I believe, executed by the Marquis Albergati. (/) Eu. on 'he Opaa. Bj Count Algarotti, Eng. trans, LoiiiL 1767./. 74. talents ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 287 talents of Italy. (/:) But this fairy-scene vanislied at the ma- SECT. gic touch of the pencil. Tempted by the hopes of gain, or ^ ' . urged by the desire of meeting the wishes of their respective patrons, we find some of the great painters of tiie sixteenth and seventeentii centuries, condescending to afford their aid. Vasari praises the scenery painted by Baldassarre Peruzzi for the Calandra of Bibbiena : " quando si recito al detto papa Leone la Calandra, commedia del cardinale di Bibbi- ena, fece Baldassare V apparato, e la prospettiva, che non fu manco bella, anzi piii assai, che quella, che aveva altra voltra fatto ; ed in queste si fatte operc mcriio tanto piu lode quanto per un pezzo addietro V uso delle comcdie, e conscguentemente delle scene, e prospettive era stato dismesso, facendosi in quella vece fcste, e rappresentazioni. Baldassare," he continues, -" fece al tempo di Leone X. due scene, che furono maravig- liose, ed apersero la via a coloro, che ne hanno poi fatto a tempi nostri."(/) When preparations were making in Man- tua for the pompous reception of Charles V. Giulio Romano appeared amongst the artists employed on that occasion, painting " prospettive i>er commedie." And there remained {i) See that iniinitablc little work, if Cor.'i-^inno dd coite Cmtiglione. Ly. IJJJ. />. to. Montaigne describes the ducal palace of Urbino, but passes over in silence, the theatre. Sec his Fay. en lint. (lorn. ii. p. \oo.) a curious and interesting narrative written with all the naivete, and elaborate detail of an old chronitlc. (/) Vile di- pillori. torn. iii. p. 328. See also Hist, dc l\p.:ra, torn. J. /. i 2. Par. 1757. Va- sari likewise extols the scenery painted by Gio. Antonio Lappoli, for a comedy which was recited (IJ34) at Arezzo, in the presence of the Duke Alessandro de' Medici, torn. iv. p. 452. not 288 HISTORICAL MEMOIR - SECT, not long since in the monastery of la Carita in Venice, a . y . wooden theatre designed by Palladio, and decorated by the pencil of Zucchero, the second RafFael of Urbino.(w) But with Ferdinando Bibiena began the triumph of scenic delu- sion. " He was the inventor of those scenes," says Algarotti, which by the novelty of the manner, drew the eyes of all the curious upon \\\va."(n) Architecture keeping pace with painting, the structure became worthy of its decorations. The teatro Olimpico produced many imitations, and Scamozzi, who completed it, was often employed to execute the chaste designs of his great predecessor Palladio. But Scamozzi was not a servile imitator: he sometimes dared to think for him- self, and the little private theatre of Sabbioneta is an existing proof of his capability of thinking like a man of genius. The happy talents also of G.iacomo Torelli appear in the theatre of Faunus ; and the noble theatre of Parma, is a splendid monument of the abilities of Giambattista Aleotti.(o) Even poets [m) This flattering title is bestowed on Zucchero by Atanagi, in whosevaluable Raccolta we find a sonnet in praise of his talents, by Mario Verdizzotti, beginning Mentre a la dotta man di Frederico La muta poesia si move, e spira In bei colori, &c. (w) Essay on the Op, " Les deux Bibiena, celebres architectes, et fameux peintres," says Ric- coboni, " actuellement vivans, ont fait voir a toiite I'Europe par leurs superbes decorations, que sans machines on pouvoit orner un theatre; non seuiement avec autant de magnificence, mais encore avec plus dc vraisemblancc qu'a\ ec des machinea." Reflex, sur les theat. de I'Europ. (o) It has not jet been discovered by what happy art this theatre was so contrived " that, (to borrow the words of Addison) from the very depth of the stage the lowest sound may be heard ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. l^3 trouvc," says Riccoboni, " avec un ange, saint Philippe et SECT. saint Jacques, cles paisans et un parasite qui disent mille . I' . bouffbnneries."((7) T!ie more delicate, or rather less gross wit of Plautus(f/*) was also relished by the holy fathers. This secret is betrayed by the title-page of an anonymous translation of the Asinaria of Plautus, registered in a cata- logue of Italian comedies now lying before me. " Asinaria di Plauto. Tradotto in terza rima da incerto, e rappresen- tata nel monastero di S. Stefano in Venezia. 1528." The Antiquario and the Fanciulla maritata senza dote, tWo ine- dited comedies by Padre Giovanni Antonio Bianchi, which were first represented in the convent of the minor ob- servan tines of Orvieto were, we may suppose, better calculated (y) " I remember that once, at the capuchin convent in Rome," says the correspondent whom I have quoted in the preceding note, " they had a ^ece of buffoonery which was cal- culated merely to please themselves, with insipid reflections on their uncouth dress, beards and snuffling pronounciation." This " piece of buffoonery" will probably remind the reader of La Fete de Fous, celebrated at Christmas, during the middle ages, by the ministers of the collegiate churches of France. Vide Warton's Hist, of £»t. Poet. "vol. i. sect. 6, (/]*) If Terence, whose humour is infinitely more delicate than that of Plautus, ofter> shocks " ears polite," how unfit must the productions of the latter be for a monastic theatre ! " Terence," says a French critic, " fait rire au dedans, et Plaute au dehors." But, though neither the Italian clergy, nor laity of tlie sixteenth century, were remarkable for depravity of manners or morals, yet all the grossnesss of the ancient theatres of Greece and Rome pr vailed on the comic stage of Italy during that period. To be convinced of the truth of this assertion, it will only be necessary to cast a rapid glance through the comedies of Machiavelli, D'Ambra and some of their contemporaries. And should any of my readers feel inclined to censure the monks of S. Stefano for suffering the profane and indelicate writings of Plautus to enter their holy walls, let tliem turn to sc. 6. act ii. of the Mandragola, and recollect, that Leo X, erected a magnificent theatre for the representation of that comedy, and honored the performance with his pr^ence, , • X for 154, HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, for the place of representation. That they were favourably y ' , received, I learn from a letter with which Signer Signorelli indulged me. This letter, as well as the Storia de' Teatri by the same learned writer, informs me, that twelve trage- dies published in 17G1 by Bianchi, were represented on the same stage. I shall transcribe the passage. " Nel convento de' minori osservanti di Orvieto recitaronsi con gran con- corso e plauso le dodici tragedie stampate e le due comme- die inedite del P. Antonio Bianchi." Nor were the Italian nuns denied this elegant indulgence. I once conversed with an Italian ballerino who assured me, (and I had no reason to doubt his veracity) he had borrowed from the ward-robe of a public theatre in a small town on the confines of the kingdom of Naples, stage dresses for the nuns of a neighbouring convent; but as the door was barred against his sex, he could afford me no information respect- ing the representation for which those dresses were procured. Neither have I met with any dramas, like the Athalie and Esther of Racine, professedly written for female religious houses. But Signor Signorelli informs me, that at the re- quest of a lady who lately presided in a nunnery in Naples, he furnished some dramas for the private amusement of her " colombes timides." Amongst these were la Zaira et il Prodigo in America ; tiie latter written by Signor Signorelli himself; the former a translation or imitation of Voltaire's Zayre, a tragedy in which, says the author, " j'aye ose m'aban- ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 35J m'abandonncr a toute la sensibilite dc mon cceur." It is SECT. not my business to enquire here whether a girl covered with " ^ , , the roses of youth and breathing love, may safely follow a poet through all the intricate windings of the passions, meet- ing occasionally the embrace of a feigned lover in private re- hearsal or public representation. But this we certainly know, that the nuns of Venice abusing, at length, the indLil- gence granted them, (9**) were prohibited the exercise of their theatrical talents, and only allowed to exhibit their per- sons in the orchestra during the inactive performance of an oratorio. " A. Venczia furono pur proibiti," says the Abate Conti " i drami sacri per 1' indecenza della rappresentazione e delle maschere, che talora vi si framischiavono, e non res- taronoche gli oratorj in musica, che in lingua latina si canta- no ogni anno negli ospitali."(/-) But to return : one of the most interesting tragedies of the period under consideration, is the Solimano of Count {q**) Addison speaks of tlie f'nrntrical amusements and licentious manners of the Venetian nuns at the time (i 701) he visited Vcnicr. " 'i'he Venetians," says he, " generally thrust the females of their families into convents, the better to preserve their estates. This mak>;s the Venetian nuns famous for the liberties they allow themselves, 'J'hey have operas within their own walls, and often go put of ihcir bounds to rneet their admirers, or they are very much misrepresented. They have many of them their lovers, that converse with them daily at the grate, and are very free to admit a visit from a stranger." /. 72. (r) Prose e Poisif, torn. i. /»r/. I was jiresciit at the performance of one of those oratorios in the ospitale dc' mendicanti in Venice. The subject was the miraculous story of Jonas. The unfortuna'e prophet was heard to speak, in a smothered voice, and in modulated tones, from the whale's belly, while the instrumental accompanyments imitated the rolling of the waves. Mrs. Piozzi also assisted at the performance of an oratario in this hospital, or rather conservatory. Vide Obterv. in a "journ. thro Italy, Dub. p. 123. X 2 Prospcro 156 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. Prospero Bonarelli of Ancona. The picture of Turkish man- . ' , ners in this tragedy is allowed to be drawn with great truth; the style is praised for its elegance and brilliancy ; and the catastrophe is artfully concealed during the progress of the fable, and, at length probably produced. Apostolo Zeno speaking of this tragedy says, the style is " nobile, corrente, tiene assai del lirico, ed e mena studiato e faticato di quelle deir Aristodemo del Dottori/' The Solimano was first printed in Florence in 1620,(5) and dedicated to Cosmo II. Grand Duke of Tuscany. In 1637 a French translation of this tragedy by d'Alibras appeared in Paris. And in 1746 the ori- ginal work was republished in theTeatro Italiano. The author flatters himself in his dedication, that his subject gives his drama a claim to the protection of Cosmo, because, being covered with Turkish blood, he ought naturally to feel an interest in the misfortunes of the Ottoman empire. It does not appear whether the Grand Duke coincided in opinion with the author. (j) " This edition," says Baretti, " is much valued, because of the cuts, by GiacomoCalotti."' In 1658 another edition was published in Cesena, ffcr il Ntri), to which are prefixed a poe- tical epistle to the author by Gio. Battista Strozzi, and several adulatory sonnets, amongst which are two by Oltavio Rinuccini and Gabriello Chiabrera. The sonnet by the lattex, begins thus : Questo gentil, che con leggiadri canti Oscura in paragon cigni, e sirene, Oggi in tcatri, e su dorate scene Condanna Turchi a raiserabil pianfi» Prospero ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 1.^7 Prospero Bonarelli was descended from a long line of SECT. rich and noble ancestors. In 1480 his family received from . Sixtus IV. the investiture of the feudatories of Bompiano and tlie Torrette upon the shore of the Adriatic; and his father was creatred Marquis of Orciano by Guidubaldo II. Duke of Urbino. Opulent in mental endowments, and devoted to letters, his various productions in prose and verse, have raised him to great literary eminence. Too liberal to sub- mit to the shackles of prejudice, he was one of the first tragic writers of his country who dared to depart so far from the Greek model, as to reject the chorus. He thought that music ill accords with the wailings of the tragic muse,(i) and therefore his Solimano, as Signorelli observes, " non ha coro di veruna sorte." Bonarelli died at an advanced age under the ponti- ficate of Alexander VII. who not only administered spiritual comfort to the expiring bard, but sent him, says one of his biographers, " un balsamo vitale di preservarlo dagli spessi svenimenti che lo assalivano." Genius seems to have pre- vailed in the family of our author: his ancestors signalized themselves as well in letters as inarms;(z<) and his brotherGui- {i) " Macon tutto questo pur si truovano tragedie prive del coro cantante, essendovi fra le altre il Solimano del Bonarelli, il quale cbbc opinionc, che in niun modo si convenisse alle tragedie di mcsto line." ///. della i-olg. poes. torn. \. p. 311. Voltaire entertained the same opinion. littMelaiig. dilitl.hist.et poei. Gefi. ii-j6. f. }^. («) See a modest dedication prefixed to the first rolume of Le Rime di divers, mbil. potti Toicani, raccolte da M. D. Alanagi. Ven. 1 ^b^. The second volume of the copy of this scarce and valuable work which I am so fortunate as to possess, belonged to Raffael Gualtieri, si.'cof whose sonnets enrich the first volume. dubaldo.- 1^8 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, dubaldo, wrote the celebrated pastoral drama of Filli di , • , Sciro.(Ty) As I observe Bonarelli associating with Rinuccini, Chia- brera, Bracciolini and other dramatic writers in the cele- brated ACCADEMIA DEGLI UMORISTI, I shall take this occasion to dilate a little upon a society to which the Ita- lian drama has many obligations. About the year 1600, some beaux esprits, who assisted at the marriage of Paolo Lucio Mancini, a Roman gentleman, exercised their wit, in the course of the evening, in composing sonnets and epi- ("j) This dramatic pastoral was, I believe, first represented at Sassuolo, the rural retreat of the Dukes of Modena. This palace, which, during a long series of years, was the favourite haunt of the muses, and the scene cf several dramatic representations, stands on the Secchia, at the distance of three leagues from Modi na. It was once a castle of considerable strength, but the hand of time has softened all its military features, and the pericils of Pibiena and Boulanger have been employed to deci rate its spacious apartments. Its situation is thus described by Tassoni, who, in the society of his friend Tesii, had often indulged in the delicious enjov- ment of its pastoral beauties and excellent wines. Ma dave lascio di Sassol la gente, Che suol de 1' uve far nettare a Giove : La dove e il di piu hello e piu lucente. La dove il ciel tutte le grazle piove ? Quella terra d' amor, di gloria ardente, Madre di cio, ch' e piu preg'ato altrove, Mando Sec. La Sccch. rttp. (ant. iii. st. ^r. As the drama which gave birth to this note, and insensibly led me to the embowering shades of Sabsuolo, does not immediately fall within my plan, 1 shall net dwell further upon it : but I cannot dismiss it without expressing my regret at not bjing able to procuie a copy of the author's Uifesa del doppio amore of his heroine Celia, a nymph who equally ena- moured of Amintas and Xi.-us, is driven almost to madness by the violence of her double passion, and resolves, in a long soliloquy, ( Aita iii. t. i.) on suicide. It is lor my fair read- ers, not for me, to judge whether oi not the author has followed nature upon this occasion. grammatic i ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 159 grammatic verses, on the ladies who were present. Pleased SECT. II with this amusement, Mancini, a man of learning and of taste, . ^" . invited his guests to a further exercise of their talents. Re- gular meetings were now established, and the plan of amuse- ment extended. Though the hasty ebullitions of wit were not suppressed or discouraged, the members, says Muratori, chiefly devoted themselves to the composition and recital of beautiful and ingenious (" vaghe ed ingognosi'^) come- dies. (z;*) At these "merry meeting's," all the principal nobility and gen ty of Rome attended. The fame of the aca- demy spread, and the associates were universally denomi- nated " i begli umori." This name was afterwards changed iiito that of Umoristi or Humorists, on the theatrical exhi- bitions giving place to the recitations of poetical compo- sitions on various subjects. The sala, or spacious apartment in which these meetings w-ere held, still existed in the time of Muratori, decorated with the arms of the principal mem- bers. Tassoni, a distinguished associate, thus immortalises this academy in the eleventh canto of his Secchia Rapita : Spcdi 11 corriere a Caspar Salviani Decan de 1' accademia de' Mancini. Having dispatched i begli umoristi, respect for the divine bard who undertook to "justify the ways of God to men," ( versity of Pisa, who " stava," says Crescimbeiii, " tessendo una tragedia intitolata Elettra, la quale non sappi:imo, se la fmisse, e uscisse alia luce," /««, v. ^, 72. { / ) Manni informs us that Francesco di Michcle Accolti of Arezzo, composed a capi- tolo upon this pathetic circumstance in the story of Guiscardo and Gis;Tionda, of which a MS. a i7 ^ " , companiments, was represented (1480) in the castle of Santa Angelo in Rome. Bergamo di Botta, a native of Tortona, asserts that honor for himself and his county. (-ut all the characters never appear on the stage together, except in the fina'e, or laot scene." Ibid. p. 1 24. (/) Hut. of Music, -vol. iv. /. 1 7. C c opera jg^ HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, opera appeared at Venice in i6s4,-"{g) Oonfidently, how- ^ ■ ever, as Riccoboni seems to decide this long disputed point, he may be in error — It's very true; — but we'll proceed. In 1^55 cardinal Sforza Pallavicino, while yet a Jesuit, published his Erminigildo, to which, like our Dryden, he pre- fixed a long discourse in its defence, in which he recommends the use of rhyme in tragedy. (^) This drama was written for, and first represented in the Jesuit's college in Rome. Should Pallavicino be forgotten as a poet, he will be long remember- ed as the author of all excellent history of the council of Trent. He died in 1667. In the year 1^57, Carlo de' Dottori's interesting tragedy of Aristodemo appeared in Padua. This tragedy is consi- dered by Apostolo Zetio as a work of inferior merit to the Solimano of Bonarelli; but Signorelli contends for its superi- {g ) Ace. of the ihent. in Etirop, Loud. 1741. /. 73. {A) It <•«. 1607) we find a chorus of th^ same mixed kind; ami in the Asdrubaleof Jacopo Castellini there are two choruses, one ofrthich is denominated " universale," and the other "particolare."— I agree with Metas- tasioin the absurdity of a pcrmanerit chorus; — yet if the chorus should always take the side of molality, how can it do so if it \it composed of the attendants of a bloody tyrant, or an adulterous queen ? Must it not rieccsjarily conceal, or abet the crimes of those whose steps it t;onstantly attends ? C c 2 E se iq6 historical memoir SECT, E se non placa — i dei d' abisso Itome. ■^^- Misere, ah come — '1 regno fia distrutto! L' ultimo lutto — I'indovin predice, Gl' ultimi danni. Gia per tant' anni — siamo usate al pianto, Che solo il Xanto — la meta ne conta. Una sol' onta — cosi lungo sdegno Dunque produce! O di Polluce — imitator insano, E tu profano — Castore mal finto, Sparta ebbe vinto — quando profanaste Le are sacrate. Torna all' usate — lagrime, o dolore, Senta il furore — gia del cor la destra Fatta maestra — 'n flagellar I'ignudo Seno dolenti. II duol frequente — tiene sparse il crine Alle rapine — della mano infesta; Edi funesta — voce di lamento Eco risuona. The Aristodemo was first introduced upon the stage by Pietro Cotta detto Celio, an actor of great celebrity in his day. Determined to restore tragedy, if possible, to the rank it had lost upon the Italian stage, he resolved on making the experiment at Venice with this tragedy, about forty years after its appearance at Padua. He announced his intention ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 157 by an advertisement setting forth, that Harlequin^/) and all SECT. liis merry associates should be excluded from the drama > — ^ — / which he proposed representing; a drama whicli, he said, was so extremely affecting, that he was confident it would draw a flood of tears from the eyes of the audience; in short it was a " nouveau genre de poemc dramatique et tout-a-fait different de ceux qu'ils avoient accoutume de voir/' Either from the merit of the piece, or the novelty of the represen- tation, the experiment succeeded ; — and tragedy triumphed for awhile. But its triumph was short. Such of the fol- lowers of Charles V. as had settled in Italy, had so grossly vitiated the public taste, that ridiculous farcical representa- tions on the model of the Spanish comedy, were again de- manded. The tragic muse, in indignation, quit the stage. And Cotta followed in disgust. (/) When we decompound the character of Harlcqain, we find it composed of such hetero- geneous particles that we are inclined to think it must have been the invention, or composition of a barbarous age. Yet there are good grounds for supposing that Harlequin was an im- portant character amongst the mimi who performed the interludes or entremets, at the social meetings of the Romans, even in the polished age of Augustus. Nor is it improbable that this character was revived, in the thirteenth century, in the 'plendid court of Can Grande, where, we are told, " che alle lor cene aggiugncasi il piacere di armoniche, sinfonie, di buf- foni, di giocolieri." Star, dtlla letter. Italian, torn. v. p. 21. Whether the Harlequin of ancient Rome sometimes excited a laugh by the mean of an occasional murder, I cannot determine; but his Italian descendant is certainly often droll in that way. Lady Millar was present at a great slaughter in Genoa by this mirth-inspiring character. Lit t. from Italy, 'vol. up. 212. " La maschera, il vestito del nostro Arlccchino" says a learned Italian, " rappresenta a me- raviglia il caratterc dei satiri, di cui parla Orazio. Li satiri degli antichi, asso',, were the first who introduced women upon the stage. This event, according to RfC(^ob6ni,. hap- pened about ihc year 1 560. lom, i. /. 42. (?/) CntJitUs, n^io. 161 1. /. 247, (0) It is, I believe, generally allowed that the Italians stand unrivalled in this art. Such- is their excellence in comic gc-ticulation in pirticular, that their comic actors- are net only- admired, but often liberally rewarded where their language is not generally umlcrstood. After Michelangelo Fr.tncanzano had continued for many years to delight the French court, Louis XIV. settled a considerable pension on h-m. And Moliere condescemied to lake lessons in acting from Tiberio Fiorrllo, a NeapolitaOi -better known- by the name of Scam- muccia. niniL 200 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, ninl, are honorably noticed in the annals of the Italian stage. ^_^__j In the house of the former at Florence, a theatrical society, denominated the Perscossi, held stated meetings for many years, and occasionally exhibited the favourite dramas of the day.(/>) Amongst the members of this society, we find the distinguished names of Gio. Battista Ricciardi, Carlo Dati,(9') Pietro Salvetti, and Volunnio Bandinelli. And it is related by a biographer of Salvator, that Francesco Maria Agli, a merchant of Bologna, used, at the advanced age of seventy, to make frequent excursions to Florence to attend those meet- tings, where, says Baldinucci, "portava a maraviglia la parte del dottore Graziano." Abject, however, as the state of the Italian stage was, at tliis time, Melpomene had still her votaries, to whom we shall now return. The fate of Giambattista Filippo Ghirardelli, who seems to have been one of ^he " genus irritabile scriptorum," gives iiis tragedy of Constantia a claim to our notice. Animated b}'^ some severe strictures on this drama, he under- took an elaborate defence of it, and the ardour with which (p) Domicini, Vile de' piltor. scith. ei archilet. Napoletami. N. 174J. torn, iii. /. 233. At the perioJ alluded to in the text, private plays were amongst the favourite amusements of the court of Turin. Not long after the Pastor Fidor was exhibited in ihiit court. La Creazione della Perla by Gaspare Murtola, was represented by the princesses of Savoy, and the ladies of their siiiic. This little drama ends wiih a dance of the elements. Fen. 1617. (n) Carlo Dati was one of Milton's literary friends at Klorencc, and afterwards honoured with his correspondence. Piose ff'oiis, -vol. ii. />, 572. Prefixed to the Poemaia of Milton, is a latin eulog)' of Dati. he ON. ITALIAN TRAGEDY 204 he prosecuted this work occasioned a fever of v/hich he died SECT. in the thirtieth year of his age. If all authors were so " feel- ^.^-J. — • ingly alive" to the severity .of. critiicism, longevity would not be one of the charactc]'istiGS''of the literary world.^ — Constan-' tia was first printed at Ronie in i65,<].(r) Crescimbeni praises the talents and virtues of this irascible poet, and la- ments his premature death. Hastening by some tragic writers of little note, we shall conclude our account of this age with mention of the works of Cardinal Giovanni Delfino, patriarch of Aquileja, and Baron Antonio Caraccio, tlie precursors of genuine tragedy in Italy; writers who knew, says an Italian critic, " astenersi da' lirici ornamenti de' tragici del secolo XVI. e dalle arditezze de' letterati del XVII." The former wrote in his youth four tragedies, — la Cleopatra, la Lucrezia, il Medoro and il Creso. These are so highly esteemed by the Italians as to be held up as models of perfection. Crescimbeni, who had read those tragedies before they were published, thus pronounces on their merit: " le sole iragedie del. Cardinal Giovanni Delfino, di gloriosa memoria sc mai usciranno alia luce, saranno bas- tanti a confondere 1' altrui invidia, ed a mostrar di quanto sia capace il nostro idioina." These dramas which were to si- lence envy, and show the great capability of the Italian lan- guage were, from what cause I know not, very slow in coming (r) r*C^ HISTORICAL MEMOIR ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. MDCC. SECTION III. MDCCXCVIII. IN the brilliant period on which we are now entering, the 11- SECT. terati of Italy soon began to emancipate themselves from the _^ mental servitude of which Voltaire and Gibbon complain. This is attributed to the institution of the Accademia degli Arcadi, or Arcadian Academy of R.ome, in 1690. Here the spirit of emulation roused the shackled, or latent powers of the mind, and aspiring hopes led to the cultivation of elegant literature 2o8 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, literature m all its branches. From this academy colonies III ,___y spread themselves throughout Italy. Its genial warmth dif- fused itself universally, and fructified the seeds of genius, or matured its crudest fruits. Of an institution which had so happy an effect on, Italian literature, some account ought to be given in a work which pretends to treat of one of its most important branches. The literary society which gave birth to the ACCADE- MIA DEGLI ARCADI, was formed by Vincenzio Leonio a native of Spoletto, and rose into notice under the auspices of Christina, queen of Sweden. On a fine evening in the summer of 1690, while this society lield a meeting in a verdant meadow, watered by the Tiber, near the castle of Sant' Angelo, the idea of giving a pastoral name to the body was conceived. Touched with the recital of an eclogue, a member exclaimed, in a fit of enthusiasm, " methinks I be- hold at this moment, the Arcadia of ancient Greece, and hear the sweet and simple strains of its shepherds \" The same enthusiastic spirit instantly pervaded every breast, and it was resolved, on the spot, that each member should assume a pas- toral name and character, and the society be denominated gli Arcadi. From tlie open fields the meetings were now re- moved to silent groves, or to the " trim gardens" of the Roman metropolis. The nobility of both sexes, and even crowned heads, associating with this troop of literary shep- herds, a seat amongst gli Arcadi became an object of ambi- tion. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 209 tion. When John V. kin^ of Portugal visited Rome in 1726, SECT. . /// he was so much pleased with this institution, that he pur- ^ ^ ' chased a garden on the Janiculum, and had it fitted up for the reception of the academy under the direction of Antonio Canevari, a celebrated Roman architect. In this garden, which is now called Bosco Parrasio, the laws of tlie society are inscribed on marble tablets, and monuments are raised to the memory of distinguished members, (it) Here stated meetings are held between the months of May and October. — And as the customs and manners of Arcadia are affected, the proceedings are dated by olympiads. Crescimbeni, the historian and first custode of this academy, relates, that at a meeting held in the gardens of prince Giustiniani in 1705, the Olympic games were performed on a circular theatre covered with green tapestry, and surrounded with lofty wooden pyramids clothed with laurel branches, each pyramid bearing in the front presented to the theatre, an inscription iii marble to the memory of a deceased member. Amongst the first members of this institution who dared to bid defiance to the laws of Ar-istotle, were the tragic writers. Spurning at the fetters from which they had been released, and anxious to evince their contempt of, and disregard for their former masters, they seemed eager to vow eternal enmity to the chorus. This circumstance is alluded to by tiie [nv] In the sixth vohime DJla be/lezza Mia 'volg. poa. may be found a succinct account of this academy, illustrated with tlie arms of the several colonies, and a view of the Bosco Par- Msio And the Abate V'ettorio Giovardi has publibhed Notix,ia del nuavi teairo d:gli ArcaJi, mi\\ copies of its monumental inscriptions. Rom. 1727. E e author eio HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, authoi' of a poem entitled DelF arte rappresentative published , •^ "^ in London in 1728, and dedicated to the late earl of Chester- field. Al presente, 1' orribile e corretto Deir antica tragedia, il coro escluso, Ed a quella si e dato un nuovo aspetto. But the vows of poets, like those of lovers, are seldom religi- ously observed. In the period under consideration the cho- rus, it is true, lost much of its importance ; but it was not universally rejected ; a few poets of the old school still re- tained it, and their example found occasional imitators. But let us proceed to the enjoyment of the intellectual splendour which awaits us. In a period so auspicious to the- muses, Melpomene, it may be presumed, had many votaries. The first in her weeping train who attracts our notice, is Pier Jacopo Martelli, a Bolognese, who died in 1727. His Per- selide, Ifigenia in Tauri, and Alceste were represented, says Signorelli, with unequivocal applause by the company of Riccoboni in Venice, Verona and Bologna. We find not only in those tragedies, he continues, but in his Procolo, Cicerone, Q. Fabio and Taimingi, genuine tragic beauties. In the Perselide is particularly admired the happy manner in which the three principal characters are marked : the magnanimity of Mustapha, the pathetic tenderness of Perselius, and the jealousy of power and relentless cruelty of Solimano, evince the ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 211 the glowing and energetic pencil of genius. Sig. Signo- SECT. relli recommends the Ifigenia and Alcestc of this author . \^' . as models for imitation to all young poets who would wish to adapt the fables of the Greek theatre to the modern stage. Of the style of Martelli, Riccoboni thus speaks; " depuis mil sept cent, le theatre Italien a pris une nou- vellc forme. Monsieur Martelli donna plusieurs tragedies en ver.j alexandrins rimes; cette fa9on de vers qui n'est pas etrangere a I'ltalie, parce que ce sont deux vers de sept syllabes joints ensemble, et parce qu'il nous reste des anciennes stances d'un poete Sicilien dans des vers de la meme mesure qui ont servi peut-etre de modele au vers alexandrin Francois, car notre Sicilien est un des plus anciens versifica- teurs, cette fa^on, dis-je, trouva ses admirateurs et ses cri- tiques en meme tems.(.r) Martelli having thus adopted a fabric of verse which had never been used before in Italian (*•) Tmi. i. /. 264. It is to be lamented that Riccohoni lias not given us the star.z.is to which he alludes, or exhibited the grounds of his conjecture. I will confess I am inclined to tliink that the model which the French imitated, they found much nearer home than Si- cily ; — perhaps I might say, at home; for in the talcs of the Trouveurs, or Kablicrs Francais, vers alexandrins may be often discovered; nay the monologue of the Lai de Courtois, a tale of very high antiquity, is in this measure. Fai. on Contcs du xiiS ct xiii Siede. Paris 1781, lorn, ii. According to the learned Mr. Tyrwhit, alexandrin metre was first used in the Roman d'Alexandre, by Lambert li Cors and Alexander de Bernay, towards the latter end of the twelfth century. But he seems to think that, as the cssura at the sixth syllable is es- sential to this measure, the inventor took for his model the long iambic which was used by CiulIod'Alcamo, a poet of Sicily, probably the poet alluded to by Riccoboni. Cant, talts of Chancer, Laud, i]"]^- 'val, iv, /. 78. Scc also Fms. du toy de Navarre, Paris I7<)-Z. t:>m, i. /. 16;- E e 2 tragedy 212 HISTORICx\L MEMOIR SECT, tmgedy, it was denominated after him MARTELLIANC ^ ^' , Though Goldoni did not admire, he imitated this measure in his comedv of Moliere, and at a time too when it had fallen into disuse from the disgust occasioned by the " monotonia della cesura, e la rlma troppo frequente, e sempre accop- piata."(2) His comedy however succeeded, and he tells, with pride, that it was ranked, by public suffrage, with his- Pamela, It was the opinion of Goldoni that Martelli " era- 11 solo che avrebbe potuto darci un teatro complete, se noil avesse avuta la foUia d' inventar versi nuovi per gl' Italiani/'(a) Having dwelt so long on this measure, — a measure in which,, it must be allowed, " the thought can turn itself with great ease," — the reader will naturally expect a specimen, and he shall not be disappointed. Solimano, (in the fourth act of the Perselide,) having deliberated on the death of his grand- son, feels the compunctions of nature. (z) Occasionally, however, comedies in versi Martelliani are still represented in Italy; and an Italian whonn I once asked whether they were relished, replied " piacciono molto, quando sono ben recitate." If therefore Mr. Hayley's happy attempt at introducing a charm- ing novelty into our language, by writing comedies in rhyme, had needed further countenance than the practice of Moliere, the modern comic muse of Italy would have afforded it. («) Baretti, a critic of great vanity, but little judgment, speaks thus contemptuously of Martelli : " One Pierjacopo Martelli of Bologna, a man of some genius, not many years ago invented a verse of fourteen syllables, and wrote some tragedies in it, pretending that that was the propcrest verse for the stage. But his tragedies are not read, in spight of one Gol- doni, a modern comedy-monger, and some other poetasters, who have in my time foolishly endeavoured to revive a metre condemned by the nature of our language to contempt and oblivion," /;«/. Grammar, Dunque ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 213 Duiique le altere doti che amabile lo fanno, Che fur gia mia dclizia, gli si volgono in danno? To ftii chc glide infusi, che 1' educai pcrclie esso Fussc amato, e perche altri I' ama, il punlsco io stesso? Miscro, i] penso e vivo? ne questo cor mi schianto, Che di dolor non scoppia?— Soliman? questo e pianto! Non v' e gia chi mi veda? Lagrime vili, il corso Frenate; ahi per cent' occhi bastami il mio rimorso! Or sei morto, mio figllo, or che il pianto mi cade; Scacciam la debolezza sin colla crudeltade. Besides the dramas which we have enumerated Martelli, stooping to the depraved taste of the times, wrote a comedy — on purpose says Goldoni, to be represented with figures of vvood!(/>) This comedy is entitled Io Sternuto d' Ercole.(t:) Attracted by the Gato of Addison in an Italian dress, I shall pause for a moment to examine it. The year after the ap- pearance of this noble tragedy in England, it forced its way into Italy. Antonio Maria Salvini, who, according to his friend Redi, had (6) In this, however, Martelli imitated only his " betters." His contemporary Cardinal Ottoboni, had his pastoral of the Triumph of Love performed in his palace in Rome with figures of wood, each of which cost an hundred pist is! Haivim's Hiii. of Music, -vo/. v. p. 145. We learn from Horace that a similar depravity of taste prevailed in Rome, even during the glorious age of Augustus. Captivum portatur ebur, captiva Corinthus. Lih. ii. ep. i. (c) Goldoni gives an analysis of this comedy in the first volume of his memoirs. Vin. 1788. f, 100. tante 214 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SFCT. tantc lingua in bocca.(d') ' * ' undertook the translation, and the academy of tlie coinpatiti of Leghorn, had it represented at their first meeting in the carnival of iji^.^e) Its fame expanded rapidl}', and the stern {J) See Bacco in T'oscn/ia, a Jythirambic sparkling with wit, and rich in just and lively, yet profound observations on the wines of Italy. Salvini having survived Redi, honored the memory of his friend with an eloquent eulogy. Pioj. Tosc. Fiioi. 17 15. [e) Cato is not the only English tragedy which has bren introduced upon the Italian stage. Mrs. Piozzi saw il re Lear e le sue tre figlie advertised at Naples, but was prevented, by indisposition, from assisting at the representation. Obs. in a Journey thro Ita'y, Dub. 1789./. 359; and she missed the representation of la Tragedia Veronese at Padua, ibid, p. 157. The latter I saw admirably performed at Florence in the month of December 1791. But Shakespeare's crowd of characters was reduced to six. The gay, the witty Mercutio was totally sunk. The mother of Juliet supplied the place of the gairulous nurse. And the friar united with his own character that of the apothecary, and furnished the soporific draught. The masquerade, and the scene at Juliet's w indow were omitted. But at Verona, where tradition still points at the place where the tomb of the Capulets once stood, 1 saw the whole drama of Shakespeare represented in ballo, I recollect being particularly struck with the splendour of the masquerade, and deeply affected with the well-feigned grief of Romeo in the sepulchre. My learned friend the Abate Cesarotti, in a letter lying before me, directs my notice to tlie source from which the fable of this tragedy was drawn. " L'av- ventiira di Giulietta e Romeo trovasi riferita iiella storia di Verona di Girolamo Corte, ma egli e il solo che la rammcroori. Del resto, (he continues,) i costumi degl' Italiani in que' tempi sono fedelmente rappresentati in quella tragedia." In the same letter he makes the following observation on Othello: " II fiitto d' Otello non par che abbia verun fondamento storico. Non e certo verisimile che i Veneziani abbiano mai dato ad un Moro il commando supremo delle loro armate; almenoc certo che non se ne trova parole presso alcuno de' loro storiografi, Shakespeare cavo il suo soggctto dagli Ecatommiti, ossia le cento novellc di Gi- raldi Cintio, ma donde poi la si cavaise il Giraldi non so indovin.irlo." In Rymer's short View of Tragedy (a work which it is prv-bable the Abate Cesarotti never saw) we find the saiTie observation on the improbability of th; Venetians giving the supreme command of their armies to a moor, with whose nation they lived in perpetual hostility. Though this note has run to an immoderate l.'ngth, I cannot conclude it without remarking, that in the Tragedia Veronese which I saw represented in Florence, the author, departing nora ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 215 stern republican of ancient Rome appeared on all the stages SECT. HI of modern Italy, exhibiting a purity of moral character, and . ^ ' . incorruptibility of modern patriotism, which seemed to up- braid his degenerate countrymen. It may naturally be sup- posed that the feeble language of modern Italy could not reach the energy of Addison's numbers. However Salvini's translation is not to be despised. It cannot be denied that the spirit of that fine passage in the soliloquy beginning Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction.'' is well preserved in the following translation ; Ritirata in se stessa e impaurita Alia distruzion s' aombra e fugge? E la divinita che muove dentro; II cielo e quel che 1' avvennire addita, E air uom 1' eternitate accenna e mostra. Eternita! pensier grato e tremendo See. Nor is the picture of the vestal virgin trembling at the altar, less beautiful in the copy than in the original. from Shakespe?re, and Luigi da Porto, concludes his piece happily. While Romeo is re- joicing with Juliet on her recovery, she discovers the vial which he had emptied, and he acknowledges he had taken poison. In excess of grief, she snatches up Romeo's sword, and as she directs the point at her breast, the friar (who, as we have observed above, unites the character of the apothecary) enters and declares that the vial which he gave Romeo did not contain poisoHr Tu 3i6 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Tu puoi carezzar anco Una vestale pallida tremante Che gia iniri spirar la santa fiamma. Salvinrs translation of several Greek and Roman classics, evince him to have been, what Doctor Johnson denominates "him, a " linguist skilfully pedantic;" and the groans of the press during the greater part of his extended life, bore re- peated testimony to his industry. He died in Florence in 1729, " con danno inesplicabile delle buone lettere," says one of his biogTaphers. After Martelli, Gian Vicenzo Gravina attracts our notice. But his servile imitation of the Greek model destroys his claim to the praise of originality. I shall therefore only venture to recommend to the lovers of the simplicity of the Greek theatre, his Palamede, Andromeda, Servio Tullio, Appio Claudio, and Papiniano, all of which, it should be observed, were written in the course of three months, and undertaken with the laudable view of saving from impending ruin, the sinking ^tage of his country. For Gravina was one of the first Italian \yrjters who stepped boldly forward to stem the torrent of buffooneries which were then flowing fast into Italy from France (/) and Spain, and had nearly stifled the solemn (/) Let us, however, do justice to the French. If, for awhile, they conspired with the Spanish followers of Charles V. who had settled in the Milanese and in the kingdom of J^Iaples, to corrupt the dramatic taste of the Italians, yet they afterwards made ample amends for ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 217 solemn voice of the tragic muse. When he and Martelli SEC'I. arose, tragedy was totally banished from the public stage, or, — ^ to use a strong expression of Milton, '• comic stuff' was intro- duced with tragic sadness and gravity;" — verse was no longer used in theatrical exhibitions; — and ridiculous farces of mingled dialects,(^) were substituted for true comedy, in despite for this temporarj' mischief. Fcrsomcof ilicirbest tragedies finding their way into Italy through the medium of translation, assisted in promoting the reformation begun by Gravina and Martelli. See Ilisl. Jit iheat. Ital, torn. i. /. 78. Mem. of the Abate Melailash. Lond, 1796. 1)01. iii. /. 226. [g] To Ruzante ot P.idua, nn actor and comic poet of great celebrity, is ascrilicd the in- troduction of different dialects into Italian comedy, " Ruzante," sajs lliccoboni, "donna vers r an 1 530, six comedies ecrites en cinq actes et en prose; les acteurs y parlent tous iin Ian- gage different : le Venetien, le Boulonois, le Bergamasque, Ic PiJisan de Piidouc, le Florentin, ct jusqu'i la langue Grecque vivante melee avcc I'ltaliennc." Riccoboni supposes that Ru- zante borrowed this idea from the PaJnulus of Plautus, in which a Carthagenian appears, speaking his native language; and adds, " que Ics mascarades du carnaval lui ont fourni Ics habits, et les caracteres de ses acteurs." This confusion of nations and of tongues was in- creased by the addition of the Spanish captain ; a character introduced to gratify the Spanish settlers in Italy. I shall transcribe part of a scene from the first act of the Eustachia, (Viii. ' dalla lihrnria d' Aldo, I ^'oj, in which this character appears boasting, in his own language, of his military achievementf. Cai'EStrino, Capitako. Ct7/>. Non mi dite voi nulla signor capitano. Ca. Que quiercs que yo diga ? Cft/>. Delia lettera, c' havete ricevuta. Ca. Yo dire. El duque d' Alva my ruega que yo me degnasc el mas presto que podiere ire en I'landres, que tien mucho mcnes;icr do my. C'(7/. Perconto dclla guerra forse? Cir. Porcstosi. Per qi:e de mis pareios sen alia muy pocos al acundo. Y en sc alia muy Cicansado por no esseralla el capiian Orsin da Ribera tuo amo. Ctiji. Ve' 1 credo ccrto. iV]a che carica cgli vi offcriscc ? Cti. F f ei8 HISTORICAL MEMOIR - SECT, despite of the strenuous opposition given by Cotta and Ricco- , , boni, who wielded, successively, tlie dramatic sceptre. " I have seen (1702) a translation of the Cid acted at Bologna," says Addison, " which would never have taken, had they not found a place in it for the buffoons." And Riccoboni, speak- ing of this period, observes, " enfin le nom de tragedie etoit devenu etranger dans notre pai's:. les monstres qui avoient succede a la tragedie n'en portoient point le nom glorieux;, soit qu'un mauvais genie I'eut entierement efface de la me- moire des hommes, soit que les auteurs eussent honte de le lui approprier, on les nomm^a opere tragiche,_ opere regie^ Ca. Me escrive que yo vaya alia, por que todo il cargo de la guerra deiaria a my ; y my ara suo logarteniente; por que s' accorda lo que ise yo entonse que fue su maiestad de Carlo- quinto en Tunez; que se no fuesse si de yo, I'esercito todo seria quedado en perdition. Yo fue aquel que governe a quella empresa; y a my se le dava il trionfo y la palma de rason. Caf. L' ho inteso dire. Ca. Mas que digo yo de Tunez.' Sec. The introducing of different nations on the stage at the same time, all speaking, with equal' purity and propriety a common language, is one of those violations of verisimilitude, which time has sanctioned, and which, from its ministering to our amusement, we patiently endure.. Eschylus and Plautus seem to have been struck with the absurdity of this practice; but their judgment yielding to the desire of giving general pleasure, they were content to leave each a single monument of their dissent. {Ste the ylgamcmmn and Panuluu) It should seem, however, that the " Babylonish dialect" of Ruzante was relished by his countrymen, as it was imitated by. succeeding comic poets, and has even still its admirers. It is curious to observe a similar practice prevailing on the stages of the east at a remote period. In the dramas of Calidas (the brightest of the nine gems of the court of Vicramaditya, who reigned in India, in the first century before Christ), we find, says Sit William Jones, " the men of rank and learning represented speaking pure Sanscrit, and the women pracrit, which is little more than the language of the Brahmens melted down by a delicate articulation to the softness of Italian; while the low persons of the drama speak the vulgar dialects of the several provinces which they are sup- posed to inhabit," Vref, to Sacoiitala, Land. 1790. /. 9. opere ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 219 opere traffl-comiche, opcre tragi-satiro-comiche, &c. On SECT. Ill les fit en prose et en trois actes." When, therefore, we con- ^ ^ ' • sider Gravhia as the champion of Melpomene, thus Fallen from her high estate, we must honour tlie man, if we cannot admire the poet. Dr. Warton, a warm admirer of Gravina, calls him " a man of great learning and a clear head, an admirable civilian as well as critic." But he is silent with respect to his poetic powers. Perhaps the best apology for the lameness of our author's tragedies may be found in that elegant writers re- mark on the effect of the study of criticism, in his Essay on the genius and writings of Pope : " It may be, says he, that tlie natural powers are confined and debilitated by that timi- dity and caution which are occasioned by a rigid regard to the dictates of art." Now it is to his critical works that Gravina owes his celebrity. But should he be forgotten as a writer, he will ever be remembered as the patron of Metas- tasio. Struck with the budding beauties of that charming poet's mind, he adopted and instructed him, and dying (1718) before the lyric bard had attained his twenty first year, left him the heir to his fortune and his learning. Nor was Me- tastasio ungrateful. Weeping over the grave of his patron, his grief and gratitude found utterance in the pathetic elegy of La Strada della Gloria. The vivid picture given of the F f 3 venerable 220 . . HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, venerable critic in that sweet poem, will, I trust, be deemed a . , ^ ' , suitable embellishment of this article. Gia 1' ardente desio cede al difctto Del mio poter ; ma venne a darmi aita Del buon maestro il venerato aspetto. Riconosco la guancia scolorita Dal lungo studio, e' 1 magislrale impcro, Che r ampia fronte gli adornav^ in vita. A me rivolse il ciglio suo severe. Da cui pur dianzi io regolar solea Delle mic labbri i moti, e del pensiero. From the contemplation of this picture, I shall beg of" my readers to turn to a biographical sketch of Gravina by the hand of a master. " This learned civilian" says Doctor Burney, " was born in the diocese of Cosenza, in the pontifi- cate of Innocent XI. and was called to Rome and honoured with a professional chair, as a doctor of laws, at the univer- sity della Sapienza. He had many friends by whom he was sincerely loved and respected ; but he had likewise many enemies, who tried to depress and mortify him in their writings. The celebrated satires of Ouintus Settanus were all written against him, under the feigned name of Filodemo. They are extremely bitter ; but it is imagined that Gravina brought severity upon himself, by his rough treatment of others in his critical writings, where he neither spared the inge- ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 221 ingenious nor the learned, any more than the dull an 1 the SECT. . in. ignorant. His works consist of his Poetics, or la Ragion ^_^^_j Poetica;(/j) a treatise on tragedy published by Metastasio, and four tragedies entitled Palamedes, Andromeda, Appius Claudius, and Servius Tullius, which could not have been written by Sophocles himself in a more Grecian style. But the most celebrated of all his professional productions, is entitled Originum Juris, libri tres, the most learned work which has appeared on that subject, and which is still much read and studied by proficients in the law. He left behind him the character of but a moderate poet and orator, though possessed of great learning and classical knowledge." (/) It is with pleasure and pride I here add to the list of the tragic poets of Italy, the name of Pietro Trapasso Metas- tasio. While yet a boy, and imbibing the instructions of Gravina, he wrote his Giustino, a wonderful production when the age of the author is considered. I shall take the liberty to borrow from his learned and ingenious biographer, a critical analysis of this drama. " Atto II. sc. 4 of this tragedy is finely written, and abounding in profound senti- ments. There are choruses a la Grecque, and airs all' Italienne, at the end of each act ; but of which (as there are five acts) (/') The imerits of la Ragion Poetica are discussed by Mr. Pinkcrton, with his usu :1 ability, in Liilers of Literature [lett. xxx) j a work which displays great ingenuity of criticism, and deep and original thinking. (;) M " . of his serious operas as have been publickly declaimed, seem, from the scenes of infinite distress and pathos with which they abound, to have a presumptive riglit to the appellation of tragedies. And that some of his operas have been declaim- ed, without the accompaniment of music, we have his own authority, and that of Mons. de Cahusac, for asserting. " I miei dramrai in tutta 1' Italia (says Pvletastasio in a letter to the Chevalier do Chastellux) per quotidiana esperienza, sono di gran lunga piu sicuri del pubblico favore recitati da' comici, che cantati da' musici. I know by daily experience, that my own dramas are much more certain of success in Italy, when declaimed by comedians, than vvhen sung by musicians." And Mons. de Cahusac, in his curious little Traite historique sur la Danse, speaking of the occasional omission of the airs in the Italian opera, observes, that " en le pratique ainsi, lors- quc' on represente quelquefois les tragedies de I'abbe Metas- taze sans musique." Though these authorities have been some.time in the possession of the public, it is not, I believe, generally known, or credited in England, that tlie operas of Metastasio liave been publickly represented — and successfully too, — witiiout music. But an lionest Italian who stands be- ( / ) £ij. 355. and Coiisig. ad im gioi'nne foein dtl Si^.Sherlocl, p. 42. ^\ hile Eximeno bestows due praise on the operas of Metastasio, he expresses a wish, that, " gl' intrecci di molti dramn;i non s'assomigliassero tanto f'ra di loro, e ct-,e uoii si sciogli- fssctante volte il nodo colla medaglia." Orig. delta mns.p. 422. side ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. oo^ side me wliile I write this passage, assures me, that about SECT twenty five years since, he has often heard, with delight, ^■'^^• several operas of our lyric bard declaimed upon the public theatre of his native city of Ascoli, by private gentlemen and professed players. The final choruses, he says, were, as we may suppose, omitted; but the airs, as connecting links of the dialogue, (and, in Mctastasio's operas, they are links of gold,) were always recited. The operas which he particu- larly recollects to have heard declaimed, were the Didoneab- bandonata, la Clemenza di Tito, Siroe, Catone in Utica, De- mofoonte, and Alessandro nell' Indie. But though my infor- mant has occasionally resided in Rome, Naples, Florence, and Ferrara, he never happened to hear an opera of Metas- tasio declaimed, without music, on the public stage in any of those cities; and he seems to think, that the practice is con- fined to the private theatres of learned seminaries, or to such towns as are, like Ascoli, too poor or too obscure to invite musical professors of eminence to visit them. In this, how- ever, he is mistaken. The operas of Metastasio have been often represented, without music, on the public stage in Na- ples, Venice, and at Milan. And I have been assured by Italians liberally educated, and " feelingly alive" to the charms of music, that they have been more deeply affected by the operas of our sweet bard, simply declaimed, than when they were graced with the exquisite music of a Jommelli or a Caldara. So just is the observation of Marmontel, that Gg "la 226 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. " la traeedie, dans son austerite, n'est pas faite pour le theatre /// v____; ljrique/'(m) — Here I originally intended to close this digres- sion, but a letter which I lately received from Signer Signo- relli, in answer to one with which I took the liberty to trou- ble him, induces me to proceed — " Domandate/' says he, " se le opere del Metastasio son rappresentate senza musica, e se r arie allora sono state omesse. I commedianti che cercana alia giornata ogni via per chiamare il concorso, hanno tra tanti altri mezzi usato di recitar, senza musica, le opere di quel poeta. Mi ricordo di averne udite alcune nella mia ado- lescenza cosi declamate in patria, e singolarmente la Cle- menza di Tito, e le arie allora si recitarono come tutto il resto, ad eccezione, di alcune di similitudini troppo poetiche che si omettevano. I commedianti Lombardi da molti anni sogliono declamarne alcune in Venezia e per la Lombardia. Nell' anno spirante, 1796, la compagnia di Andolfati ha recitata la Didone, ed altre opere in Napoli ancora senza veruna musica e ritenendo le arie che non sono di paragon! assai poetici/* To this weighty testimony of an eminent living author, let me now add that of an amiable writer lately deceased. While Goldoni was pursuing his studies at Feltri, he was requested to exercise his judgment in the choice of a drama for public representation on a stage erected in the governor's palace. Want of comic actors obliged him to have recourse to the ( m ) Essai mr /« rev, de la mmij, en France^ productions ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 227 productions of the trasjic muse, and he selected two of Me- SECT. III. tastasio's operas, which were accordingly represented — but v_y-^ " senza musica, misi soltanto learie in recitativo/'(72) But to return : Nor does the count Saverio Pansuti of Na- ples, deserve more honorable notice as a poet, than the ami- able, the learned and the frigid Gravina. I shall therfore barely enumerate five tragedies published by him at different times, viz. Bruto in 1723, Sofonisba and Virginia in 1725, Se- jano in 1729, and Orazia (in a complete collection of his dra- matic works), in 174,2. But the Crispo of the duke Annibale Marchese, Pansuti's countryman and contemporary, is allowed to possess uncom- mon merit. It is, says an Italian critic, a copy of the great Hippolitus, executed with the pathetic pencil of Euripides, and the enchanting harmony of Racine's numbers. Besides the Crispo and Polissena, Marchese wrote ten sacred dramas which were splendidly published (1729) in Naples, in two volumes quarto. Amongst the masters who set to music the choruses of those tragedies, we find the name of the cele- brated Hasse. Such was the ardour with which Marchese pursued his studies, that he resigned, in 1740, the govern- ment of Salerno, and magnanimously declining the archbi- shopric of Palermo, retired to the monastery of the Padri Gerolimini in Naples,(o) where he devoted himself to the ( « ) Mem. del Sig. Goldoni. Vett. 1788. tarn. i. /. 142. (0 ) L' Oratorio dc' P. P. di S. Filippo Neri, an elegant structure, and rich endowment. G g 2 muses. 228 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, muses, and the worship of his God. It was probably for the , • . private theatre of this holy retreat, that he wrote his sacred dramas, occasionally rousing the slumbering echoes of its " long sounding isles," with such sentiments as the following, in the Ermenegildo : Udito bo sempre Ch' uomo al cui senno sacri riti ed alme Commesse furo, se con voglia ingorda Alle profane cose intende, e lascia Air altrui cura 11 gregge, e sol da quello Toglie da lungi 11 rlcco frutto, e Indegno Del sacro grado, e'l profan male adempie. Gens. Chi serve al re non e men caro a Dlo. Recar. Caro e a Dio sol chl al suo dovere intende,. E 11 tuo non e dl conslgliar regnanti. Marchese died in 1753, " ammirato per le sue virtu." Marchese was followed by the learned and philosophic An- tonio Conti. a Venetian nobleman, who, at an advanced age, bent his genius to the composition of tragedy. From the pen of this venerable poet fell Giunio Bruto, Marco Bruto, Giulio Cesare and Druso. Either from the phlegm of age, or from a frigid chasteness of judgment, there is a tameness in those tragedies unsuited to the stage ; but in pureness of style, and truth of character, they have seldom been excelled : there- fore though they cannot keep the stage, they will ever hold a distinguished place in the closet. But we must not pass lightly over ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 225 over this literary veteran. His love of English literature SECT. should endear him to us. He translated part of Milton's ^ ^ " . Paradise Lost, and, with the assistance of " the all-accom- plished" Lord Bolingbrooke, made a free version of the wliole of Pope's Rape of the Lock. And we learn from the curious and amusing Notizie prefixed to the second volume of his posthumous works, published at Venice in 1756, that while he resided at Kensington, the Julius Cassar of Shakes- peare inspired him with the idea of writing his Giulio Cesare and Marco Bruto; but it was the duke of Buckingham who tauglit him to divide the subject. " Ad imitazione del duca di Buckingham," says he, " I'avea diviso in due tragedie per piu separarne le passioni dominant! e far meglio sentire il punto che da loro 1' unita e la forza." We are also informed by the biographer of Conti, that the Giulio Cesare, which was first performed at Venice in 1743, ^^^ deemed the most regular tragedy that had been yet represented on the Italian stage. Flattered with its success, the author determined to have the choruses set to music and sung in the following year. " Veniva lusingato Tautore, che nell' anno seguente si sareb- bero cantati i cori, che sono affatto necessarj per 1' unita della tragedia. La cosa non era impossibile. Furono cantati a Roma e a Vicenza i cori della Sofonisba, altrove i cori della Canace dello Speroni, di cui resta ancora la musica." But the expe- riment did not succeed : " lospirito ed il buon gusto manca," says my author. From the passage which I have quoted it may 230 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, may be inferred — i. That the choruses of the early Italian :. ^ ' , tragedies were always sung, and that the original music of those of the Sofonisba and Canace, were in existence so late as the year i'j^6,{p) when the posthumous works of Conti were published, ii. That the chorus in Italian tragedies had fallen into disuse previous to the year 174,3, when the Bruto was first represented. It ceased, as we have elsewhere observ- ed, soon after the opera began. In this opinion I am in a great degree confirmed by the inspection of several tragedies written since that period, in which the chorus is either totally omitted, or thrown, in an isolated state, to the end of each act, ready for rejection, or the accompaniment of inusic, at the option of the manager. I would, however, be understood to speak of profane tragedies ; for, sacred dramas, or dramas ( / ) Though the music of the choruses of the Sofonisba and Canace have eluded my re- searches, it may yet be brought to light, since it was certainly in existence so late as the year 1756. It is to be lamented, that Sir John Hawkins and Doctor Burney did not direct their learned enquiries to the discovery of the choral music of the early Italian tragedies. Much of it probably still lurks in different collections in Italy, particularly in that of the late Padre Martini of Bologna. Having lost or mislaid the notes which I took, of the con- tents of the inedited volume of his history of music, which remains in the benedictine mo- nastery of Bologna, I cannot now determine whether or not this subject be treated in that inestimable work ; but I can hardly suppose it would be totally disregarded by so curious and so minute an enquirer as Padre Martini. I shall, perhaps, be told, that the music which I am lamenting, might gratify the antiquary, but would not afford any pleasure to the modern musician. It is as an antiquary I deplore its loss, or concealment. However, as the acca- demia degli filarmonici was instituted in Vicenza in the time of Trissino, we may naturally suppose, that some of the principal masters of the day w.re employed to set to music the cho- ral parts of the Sofonisba, and tliat, therefore, with this music we have lost a specimen of die best dramatic music of the age of the father of Italian tragedy. written ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 251 written for the cloister, and performed either in action, or in SECT. the still-manner of Handel's oratorios, yet, I believe, preserved ^ ^ ' ^ in general the musical chorus. Performed by men in the daily habit of rendering tlie roof of their abode " vocal with their maker's praise," voices prepared to fill the choral parts could not be wanting: besides, such men would gladly embrace an opportunity of employing their practical skill and vocal pow- ers in any musical exercise that would relieve them from the dull psalmody of the choir. We have just found Hasse setting to music the sacred dramas of Marchese, and a latin tragedy entitled Senacherib, (now lying before me) which was printed at Rome in 17^9, and evidently written either for the college or the cloister, has " intermezzi per musica da cantarsi" between the acts. (9) — But let us return to our author. As well as the literature of England, Conti culti- vated that of France, and wrote with elegance and ease in the language of that country, (r) In fact he seems to have devoted ( f ) These intermezzi are not of the eventless and inactive kind of choruses, consisting of madrigals and canzonets, which preceded interludes ; like the celebrated Serva Padrona of Pergolesi, they are animated with scenes of humour and character ; in fact they arc parrs or acts of a little pastoral drama of which the chain of connexion is only broken by the different acts of the play. Such entertainments are justly censured by Mr. Wright, (who visited Rome ill 1721) because they seem to interrupt the unity of the piece. Tra'uels into Italy, W i. ed, 1744. The modern interlude is an improvement on the embolima of the ancients. Arist.poet, cap. 18. ( >■) In 1739 Conti published a translation of the Athalie of Racine, to which he prefixed a critical dissertation upon that admirable tragedy. This translation, he informs us, v/as ex- ecuted 23S HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, devoted himself entirely to letters. Even while a young man, ^ ^ [ . he renounced all the honors and advantages to which his birth entitled him, declaring, in a letter to a kinsman, " pro- testo a V. E. con ogni candidezza d'onore, di non amare con attacco altra cosa, che la mia quiete, e la contemplazionedella verita. Di buon grado rinunzio a tutti gli agi, a tutti gli onori, a tutte le ricchezze, quando si tratti di perder 1' una, olasciar T altra." This life of mental activity was terminated by an apoplexy on the twenty-fifth day of November, 1748. The glory of the tragic muse in this age, and particularly in the period before us, is the Merope of the marquis Scipi- one MafFei of Verona, " une tragedie," says Voltaire, " digne des beaux jours d' Athenes, dans laquelle 1' amour d' une mere fait toute I'intrigue, et oia le plus tendre interet nait de la vertu la plus pure." But the praise of Voltaire is cold when compared with that of a living English writer of great lite- rary eminence, who, struck with the classical charms of this drama, pronounces it, with the enthusiastic rapture of a ecuted ill the autumn of 1720, during his stay in the delicious rural retreat of the Countess of Caylas, a lady whom he must always mention, he says, with tenderness and respect, on account of the many obligations he had to her. This lady, at the desire of her aunt, the celebrated Madame de Maintenon, performed the part of Athalie at Saint Cyrin the presence of Lewis XIV. and his court, Racine, who was much pleased with " la soavita e le altre grazie del dire della contessa," instructed her in the part. Our author was told by this ac- complished coi;ntess, whom he so tenderly recollects, that Racine preferred ihe Aihalie to all his other tragedies. lover x,^ ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 233 lover, " the most finished tragedy in the world. "(I) Much SECT. as I admire the classical simplicity of this tragedy, and the . ^ ' . happy conduct of the fable in many instances, I cannot sub- scribe to the unqualified encomiums of those learned and truly ingenious gentlemen. However powerful maternal affection may be, it cannot excuse the thirst which Merope evinces for the blood of a friendless young stranger whose guilt, at most, was doubtful ; nor will it serve to extenuate her barbarous purpose of opening his breast, dragging forth his heart, and tearing it in pieces with her teeth. io in vita Non.vo piii rimaiier; da questi affani Ben so la via d' uscir; ma convien prima Sbramar 1' avido cor con la vendetta. Quel scellerato in mio poter vorrci. Per trarne prima, s' ebbe parte in questo Assassinio il tiranno; io voglio poi Con una scure spalancargli il petto {'i) Goldsmith confines his praise of this celebrated drama, to the choice of the subject, it is the opinion of the same enchanting poet, that Maffei learned from the Sampfon of Milton and the Aihalie of Racine, to construct a tragedy without a love-intrigue, " Maffei," saya he, " is the first who has introduced a tragedy among his countrymen without a love- plot. Perhaps the Sampson of Milton, and the Athalie of Racine, might have been his guides in such an attempt." Pns. slat, of pol. In. p. ifi. I presume it need hardly be ob- served here, that the Merope of Maffei, is the real parent of the Douglas of Mome, a tra- gedy which does honor to the English language. II h ^'ogIio 234, HISTORICAL MEMOIR Voglio strappargli il cor, voglio co' denti Lacerarlo e sbranarlo.(j) Euriso, hear me ; I will not drag my life on after this; Out of these troubles well I know the wayj-.: But first 'tis meet I satiate with revenge My greedy heart. I would within my power That wicked wretch, to gather from him first. If any part of this belongs to the tyrant: Then will I with an axe open his breast And thence root out his heart, and with my teeth Mangle and tear it all to pieces. Mr, Ayre. Neither is Ismena's ungenerous mode of betraying Egistus- to her mistress, perfectly reconcileable with vraisemblance. The garrulity of Polidore too, is reprehensible: when we- are deeply interested in the fate of Egistus, he distracts our attention with reflections on old age, and lamentations for the loss of that vigour which was once his boast. But any {s ) 1 thought the barbarous revenge meditated by Merope was without a parallel on the modern stage, till happening to open the Titus Andronicus, or The Rape of Lavinia by Ed. Ravenscroft, I found the following speech by the Moor, after the Empress had stabbed her child. She has out-done me, cv'n in mine own art. Out-done me in murder Give it laz,'"!' ileal it. Out-done me in murder — Kill'd her own child 5 faults ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 235 faults or defects tliat impartial criticism may discover in this SECT. tragedy, are lost in the splendour of surrounding beauties, v ^ " . The plan of my work does not admit of long quotations : but I cannot resist the pleasure of transcribing two passages which, even in the tame, and inelegant version of Mr. Ayrc, cannot fail to afford delight. Such of my fair readers as are acquainted with the appre- hensions of a mother for an exiled child, will, I am sure, acknowledge that the following lines bear the stamp of na- ture. Mtr Ma se aiicora Fosse falso sospctto, or ti par' egli, Che il sol peregrinar del mio Cresfonte Mi dia cagion di dover' csser lieta? Rozzo garzon, solo, inesperto, ignaro De le vie, de' costumi, e de i perigli, Ch' appoggio alcun non ha, povero, e priva D' ospiti; qual di vitto, e qual d' albergo Non patira disagio? quanta volte Al r altrui mense accosterassi, un pane Chiedendo umilc? e ne sara fors' anche Scacciato; egli, il cui padre a ricca mensa Tanta gente accogliea. Ma poi, se infermo Cade, com' e pur troppo agevol cosa, Chi n' avra cura ? ci giacerassi in terra Languente, afBitto, abbandonato, e un sorso D' acqua non vi sara chi pur gli porga, H h 3 O del 236 HISTORICAL MEMOIR O Dei, che s' io potessi almeno ir seco, Parmi, che tutto sofFrirei con pace.(j*) Allow it to be false, yet canst thou think Barely to know that my Cresfonte wanders. Will suffer me to harbour thoughts of joy? Alone, an unexperienc'd, homely youth. Arid unappriz'd of ways, customs and dangers. Who has no place of rest, poor, and without All hospitable succour, what for food And where to lay his head, will he not suffer?- What want ! how often to a stranger's table Shall he approach? and humbly asking bread. Perhaps be driven away; he, whose great father Spread his rich table for such numbers. Then Should he fall sick, as that he may too easy. Whose care will he then be? low on the ground When he shall languid lay, afflicted, left, A draught of water, none shall hand it to him. Gods, might I at leaft but travel with him, 1 think that I should suffer all in peace. Mr. Ayre. (t*) As the author acknowledges to have received considerable aid from his mother in the composition of this traged)', it may be presumed, that the fine description of maternal sufferings which we have quoted, was written under her direction. His little tribute of gratitude to that amiable lady, merits transcription. Having introduced the name of Sylvia in Sc. 4. Ja, iv. he thus apologises for using a name which " non ^ greco." — " Un' im- propricta e qui ecI nomc di Silvia, che non e grcco : ma I'autore ha voluto in ogni modo metterci il nome della madra sua, quasi per gratitudine, avendo da essa imparati, e presi al- quanti passi de' piu gratiti di questa tragedia," Amotax, /. 135, What a beautiful trait in our author's character, does this apologetic pass) Soon after the revival of the dramatic art, a passion for theatrical amusements spread itself throughout Italy. (^) lieard Jistinctly to the farthest part of the audience, as in a whispering place." Rem. on sc- tutial parts of Italy, Loud. 17 1 8. J>. 334. (/ ) " That very night that he (Ariosto) sickned and tooke his bed, there happened a great •' niischaunce that was, in the opinion of most men, a presage of his death. The goodly hall •' that Alfonso had beautified, with the most sumptuous stage that had been seen in Ferrara, " (purposely for Ariosto's comedies) was fiered by mischaunce, and consumed a great part of " the Duke's pallace beside." Lift- of ArUjio by Sir John Harrington, subjoined to the " translation of the Orland. furios. Loud. 1591. [q) This passion has penetrated even the wilds of Calabria. Mr. Swinburne gives a lu- dicrous account of a dramatic representation at which he was present at Francavilla, in the year 1780. " In the evening," says this enlightened traveller, " I was entertained with the tragedy of Judith and Holofetnes, acted by the young people of the town, in a theatre be* longing to the castle. Their rude accent, forced gestures, and strange blunders in language, rendered their dismal drama a complete farce. When the heroine murdered the general, the whole house shook with thundering bursts of applause; the upper part of his body was hidden by the side scenes ; the lower parts lay on a couch upon the stage, and in the agonies of death were thrown into such convulsions, kickings, and writhings, as melted the hearts and ra- vished the souls of the atientive audience. Judith then came forward, and repeated a long monologue, with her sword in one hand, and a barber's block, dripping with blood, in the other." Trwj. in the tivo SieilUs, -vol, ii. /. ■^■^. Land, 1790. P p Theatres, zgo HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. Theatres, both pubhc and private, arose in every city and in . ^ ' - every town. Each academy had its theatre; and the grande salle in every palace was fitted up for dramatic exhibi- tions. (r) Nor has this passion yet expired. All the great and small towns in Italy still abound in private theatres ; and dramatic exhibitions are the favourite amusement of the Italian gentry and nobility of the present day during the villeggiatura. The brother of Count Pepoli, whom we have just mentioned, as well as the Marquis Albergati, have each un teatro stabilito, that is, a company of players and a band of music, which are considered as component parts of their household establishments. However neither these gentlemen, nor any of the other proprietors of private theatres in Italy, refuse to take a part occasionally either on the stage, or in the orchestra. We have already found both the Marquis Albergati and Count Pepoli performing in Romeo and Ade- linda ; and Count Vittorio Alfieri, whose works we shall shortly notice, played the part of Creontes in his own tra-. gedy of Antigone. (r) " The Pastor Fido," says Gibbon, " was first represented in a private house in Ferrara." Ill the year 1792, I explored the apartment in which it was exhibited. It was then stripped of all theatrical decorations. It appeared spacious and gloomy. Of its dimensions I cannot speak with certainty ;— perhaps I should approach near the truth if I were to say, it is thirty feet in length, and eighteen or twenty feet in breadth. This apartment is in an house which formerly belonged to the Guarini family, but is now the property of the Gualengi. On the stairs leading to it, stands a bust of the poet Guarini. And on the front of the house we read the following inscription : HERCULIS ET MUSARUM COMMERCIO,-— FAVETE LINGUIS ET ANIMIS. Were ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. zgi Were I to notice particularly the several public theatres of SECT. Italy, I should extend this digression to an unreasonable length. . I shall therefore confine myself to observing, that those which are most celebrated, are the following ; — the theatre in Parma erected by Giambattista Alcotti and dedicated (1619) to Bellona ed alle muse, — that of Verona erected, as we have already observed, under the direction of the Marquis Maffei, — the royal theatre of Turin which, according to De la Lande, " est le plus considerable qu' il y ait en Italic, a 1' exception du grand theatre de Parme, qui depuis long-temps nesert point," — the Aliberti of Rome, — ^San Petronio of Bologna, — San Carlo (5) of Naples, and the Fenice of Venice. I happened to be present at the opening of the last theatre, in May 1792, and never did I behold a more brilliant spectacle, (t) All the powers of music, painting and dancing were employed to strike and delight the imagination. Nor was it a little grati- fying to an admirer of Shakspeare, to see the bust of his fa- vourite bard placed in a colonnade amongst the greatest ancient and modern dramatic poets. It should, however, be obselrved that the public theatres which I have enumerated are, in general, solely appropriated (i) Tliough this theatre is dedicated to Saint Carlo, it is on Saint Anthony the manager re- lies for protection against fire ; and with this view, an image of that Saint, as black as the late lady of Lorcto, stands behind the scenes. (/) It was with the opera of i Giccochi d' Agrigcnto by Count Pepolc, that this theatre was opened. The libretto, which lies before me, is adorned with a view of the front of the theatre, and portraits of the principal performers, — Gasparo Pachiaroui, Giacorao David, JiiJgida Banti, — .ind the composer of the music, Giovanni Paisiello, P p 2 to 3C)a HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, to the representation of musical dramas by companies of co- . , medians in the pay, and forming part of the establishment of their respective courts. Comedies and tragedies are now performed in Italy by istrioni or strollers only, to whom the royal stage, or theatre of the court, is universally proscribed. The admirers of Thalia and Melpomene divested of the meretricious charms of music, must therefore be content to seek those ladies in such humble theatres as the Capranica, and Tordinona of Rome, S. Crisostomo of Venice, the -Fiorentini of Naples, and the small theatre belonging to the palace of the prince Carignano in Turin. It is to this want of a permanent theatre, liberally endowed, that the slow pro- gress of tragedy in Italy has been, with too much truth ascribed. It was observed above a century ago by Rymer, that "Italy had no fund for the vast charge of dramatic representatiozis ; they had no standing revenue for the theatre ; and however magnificent some prince might be on an extraordinary wed- ding, or great occasion, there was nothing constant, nor could it, in such circumstances, be expected, that the drama there should turn to account, or rise to any tolerable reputation. Therefore the ordinary business of the stage was left amongst a company of strollers, who wandered up and down, acting farce, or turning into farce, whatever they acted." (m) The evjl complained of by the English critic, is feelingly deplored ( vice which his brother is taught by our author, to otFer him. Giul. in vista Moderati ed umani. Ove dolcezza Basti al bisogno, lentamente dole! ; E air uopo ancor, ma parcamente, crudi. Let your steps By the soft semblance of humanity Be harmoniz'd to lull suspicious thought. Pursue your measures calmly with the mild; But, when the crisis calls, be adamant ! Reluctant, yet relentless. Though we learn from history, that Guglielmo de' Pazzi (the Raimondi of our author) was saved by the interposition of Lorenzo, we find him, in the drama before us, plotting his death. Lorenz. un sol si attenta Di resisterci, un solo; e temer dessi? CM. Feroce figlio di mal fido padre. Da temersi e Raimondo .... Lorenz. Ambo si denno Schernire, e a cio mi appresto : e dolce anch' ella Cotal vendetta .... Cm/. E mal sicura. Lorefiz. ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 311 Lorenz. In mente Tant' e fermo ho cosl. Quel giovin fcro Vo' tor di grado. Lorenz. One alone Plants his determin'd foot, and seems to stand In single opposition to our schemes. Is he a formidable foe ? Jul. What Raymond ! The haughty son of a suspected sire ! Lorenz. I scorn them both ; but each will shortly feel,. And satiate my revenge. Jul. Were it secure. Lorenz. Secure ! — I'll tell you Julian, — here it lies Ripe for explosion. Soon I'll hurl him down. This young declaimer. This tragedy is dedicated to the sliade of Francesco Gori Gandellini of Sienna, in conjunction with whom it would seem to have been written. Don Garzia. This tragedy exceeds in accumulated hor- rors, the productions of Schiller. I have just laid it down after an eager perusal, and my hand still trembles. Cosmo, grand duke of Florence, jealous of the power of Salviati, anxiously desires his secret removal by any means, no matter how treacherous, or how base. Accidentally hearing that his son Garzia is enamoured of the daughter of the object of his jealousy, he has her seized, and threatens to assassinate her unless ^^^ HISTORICAL MEMOIR unless her lover consents to seduce her father, in the dead of night, to a grotto in a deep wood near the city, and, in the moment of confidence, bury the sword which he puts into his hand, in the breast of the deluded old man. Piero {'k) urges his brother Garzia to the perpetration of the dreadful deed, under a promise of undertaking to be himself the betrayer of Salviati; and then employs an artful pretext to induce his brother Diego, (who stood between him and tlie dukedom) to conceal himself in the fatal grotto. Garzia goes out at the ap- pointed hour, — mistakes Diego for Salviati, — kills him, — and returns to report to Cosmo what he had done, and to demand the reward of his treachery. Cosmo doubts, — explores the grotto, — finds the bleeding body of his son ; then rushing forth, infuriate, meets Garzia, and stabs him in the arms of his mother. It would seem from this, and the preceding drama, ■ li) Piero, who " c veramente 1' eroe" does not exist in history : he is a character of the author's own creation. I shall borrow, for the satisfaction of the reader, M. De la Lande's brief relation of tlie fact upon which this drama was founded. " La grande duchesse Eleonore, femme de Come I. se tenoit volontiers a Pise, sur-tout en hiver, pour cviter la vuc lie Florence, ou la noblesse toujours conjuree centre la puissance de sa maison, lai donnoic mille desagremerjs. Elle etoit aPise au mois de Janvier 1562, avec ses deux fils Don Garzia, ct le Cardinal Jean de Medicis : ces deux princes prirent querelle a I'occasion d'un chevreuil; Don Garzia tua son frere. La duchesse qui aimoit Don Garzia beaucoup plus que le Car- dinal, espera que le grand-due lui pardonneroit ; elle determina son fils a aller se jctter aux pieds de son pere pour obtenir grace; mais le crime etoit trop recent : Come L fut transporte de colere en voyant le meurtrier, et il lui passa son epee au travers du corps, en disant quil ne vouloit point de Cain dans sa maison ; la grande-duchessc fut si fiappee de ceite mort, qu'ellc en mourut de chagrin." Foj. en Jtal. torn. ii./. ij09. For further information on this sub- ject, I shall beg leave to refer the reader to the curious and interesting Memoirs of the House ef Medici, translated from the Fiench oi M. Tenhove, by Sir Richard Ciayton, vd. ii./. 5:15* that ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 313 that our author had sworn perpetual enmity to the family of SECT, Medici ; for he perverts historic truth, and invents facts for v>_J-/ the mere purpose of blackening their memory. (/) Saul. This drama evinces an intimate acquaintance with holy-writ. In the odes which David is supposed to sing in the presence of Saul, the language of inspiration seems to vi- brate on our ears : we not only hear the " cunning player on the harp," but the inspired bard, [m) Michal's fears on the departure ( /) The author, in his rcm.nrks on this tragedy, having observed, that the authenticity of the fact, related in the preceding note, has been questioned, by some writers, adds, " ma e certo ancor piu, che se cosi non seguiva, visti i costumi dcUa sccllerata schiatta dei Medici, qucsto fatto potca benissmo intutte le sue parti seguire cosi." {m) It is the wish of the ingenious count, that if the performer who fills the character of David, should be a singer ps well as an actor, that the Odes should be sung to suitable music. But if an actor so qualified, cannot be found, he recommends a short symphony, adapted to the subject, before each stanza ; and then, says he, David may proceed to recite the stanza with " maestria e gravita." During the prevalence of the chorus in tragedy, Italy, it may be presumed, abounded in actors who united vocal powers with talents for recitation : yet per- formers, thus gifted, are seldom distinguished in the annals of the Italian stage. It is from the eloge of a contemporary poet we learn, that Alessandro Rostri, a tragic player of the last century, sung and recited with equal ability. I shall transcribe my authority. It is a sonnet by Girolamo Preti, addressed Al Sig. Alessandro Rostri, che cai:lave, e ricitaija in una tragedia. O d' angclico spirto aspetto, e voce, Innoccnte del ciel nuova sircna; Che la funesta ancor tragica scena Con 1' armoniafai dolcemente atroce. Questa hor tremula, hot tarda cd hor veloce L' almc col moto suo muovc, e raffrena : Jnfiamma, aggiaccia, e turba, e rasserena, Lega, e punge, e saetta, e pur non noce Sona Ss 314 .HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, departure of David for the field of battle are natural and ^J:!!l_, affecling. The insanity of Saul is skilfully managed. And David appears throughout the play worthy of being deemed a man after God's own heart. Agide is stiled by the author his fourth tragedy of Liberty : in fact it is a tissue of declamations in praise of " the moun- tain-nymph," who seems to be tlie goddess of our author's idolatry. For her he abandoned his house-hold gods, and; still continues to follow her from court to court, an infatuated votary. In the dedication of his Bruto primo to General Washington, he says, " lo, benche nato non libero, avenda- pure abbandonato in tempo i miei Lari ; e non per altra ca- gione, che per potere altamente scrivere di liberta." This drama is dedicated to the shade of Charles I. whose death the- author does not think a fit subject for tragedy " non essen- done sublime la cagione" But surely what it wants in, sublimity, is amply supplied in pathos. La Sofonisba. Here we again find a slight violation of historic truth, (n) Sophonisba repents of her engagement with Masinissa, and opens her arms once more to her captive husbands. Sono i tuoi movimenti, e i tuoi sembianti Piu, che mortali : e tua facondia invita Con le lagrime finte a veri pianti. Te contemplando ogn' alma al ciel rapita Da noi s' invola : e dai, se parli, 6 canti, Aiicor nunzio di morte, altrui la vitai (») Cato, wflo makes so conspicuous a figure in the tragedy of Trissino, does not appear m the Sofonisba of Aliieij. Nor did Banddlo, (who seems to have read Trissino s drama) think ox ITALIAN TR'AGEDY. 375 luisband. Syphax relinquishes lier to Iiis rival ; — retires to SECT. his tent, and falls upon his sword. Sophonisba seeks Masi- s.li[__j nissa, — declares her determination to die, and desires him to call his " fedel GuludJa," and demand the poison which lie kept for his master's use against unforeseen adversities, Ma- sinissa complies, and presents the fatal draught with his owa hand. The queen drinks it, and dies. La Mirra. Though the author may modestly say witli Ovid, Oil the same occasion. Daughters and fathers from my song retire ; 1 sing of horror ; yet he has conducted his plot with such extreme delicacy, that the chastest ear could not be wounded at the recital of this drama. Although influenced through the whole piece by her unhappy passion, Myrrha does not betray the secret of her heart till it is, we may say, wrung from her in the agonies of death. In Ovid she is constantly actuated by the ardour of her incestuous desires : in the tragedy under consideration she presses her hand on a man whom she does not love, in order to estrange herself from her family and country with the hope that change of objects may help to subdue the violence of her passion. There is, it is true, little action in this piece ; think it necessary to be guilty of an anachronism, in order to introduce that implacable eneTir of Carthage into his interesting tale. Novel, torn iii. Lond. 1791. The death of Sophonisb« happened A. U. 550_:^Cato's embassy to-Carthage, did not take place until the year 596. S S 2 yet 3i6 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, yet it enthralls the attention. The characterof Cinyrasisper- V ^ ' . feet both as a father and a king. Cenchris has all the feelings, and all the virtues which properly belong to a mother, and a wife. And the generous, the enamoured Pereus, a character of the poet's own creation, gives a new interest to the fable. This drama seems to be a favourite with the author, and must ever be so with the public. Bruto primo, and Bruto secondo, may be denominated tu- multuous tragedies. In both, the stage is almost constantly crowded with Roman citizens, and a cry for liberty resounds from every side. In the latter, Caesar is assassinated at the base of Pompey's statue, and falls upbraiding Brutus with in- gratitude : Figlio, — et tu pure ? — io moro- — The people who surround the senate-house, hearing a noise, enter. Anthony is silent. But Brutus displays his bloody dagger, and then makes an oration over the body. This is the last, in chronological order, of nineteen tragedies, and, perhaps, the least happy of our author's dramatic pro- ductions. It is rather a dialogue on liberty, than a tragedy. It wants action and pathos ; and, like the Bruto primo, it suffers considerably, in point of interest, from the total ab- sence of female characters ; for I do not number the dead body (il corpo) of Lucfetia in the latter, (o) with the dra- («) /itto'usc.iu matis ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 317 matis personze. In roundness and integrity of cliaracler, SECT, neither piece can be justly said to be deficient : but even the , . author acknowledges, there are many defects in the conduct of both. Indeed we frequently lose tlie dramatic poet in the declamatory champion of liberty : when we expect to hear a dialogue animated by reciprocal contention, we are stunned with the noise of the forum. The Bruto secondo is, however, witii all its faults, infinitely superior to the genera- lity of modern Italian dramas. But perhaps there is no modern tragedy so well calculated to stand the ordeal of Aristotle, as the Aristodemo of the Abate Vincenzo Monti (8) a powerful rival of the feeling and prolific Alfieri. This awful drama shakes the soul to its in- most recesses, and makes the coward conscience shrink back upon itself. This effect it has in the closet, — what then must be its powers on the stage where the delusion is heightened by the aid of action and scenery ! (/>) Tiraboschi, on reading this tragedy, exclaimed,-^-" qual forza, qual' energia di stile ! Qual vivacita d' imagini ! Qual varieta di affetti ! II terribile Crebillon non e mai giunto a inspirar quel terrore, che genera (/) It is modestly observed by the Abate Monti, that his Aristodemo, " c piu da tavolino che da teatro ;" and he adds, with equal modesty, that it owes its success on the stage to the admirable performance of Zanarini in the principal character. This tragedy was, I believe, first repreicnted on the royal theatre of Parma, where it was printed (1786, 4to. U 1787, 8vo.) with great elegance. In the year 1788, it was repubVished in Rome {prftso Gioaeciina Puc- ci/ielli), with the Galeotto Manfredi. To this edition are subjoined " pentimenti dell' Aris- todemo," and a critical essay on that tragedy by Gioacchino PessHti, addressed to lady Clive. nei 3i8 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, nci lettori qiiesta tragedia." And I was assured at Rome i^__\ by a lady as remarkable for the elegance of her mind, as the magic powers of her pencil, that the Aristodemo had excited her feelings to such a painful degree, that she could never be prevailed on to assist at a second representation. In selecting beauties from this tragedy there would be no end ; but before I dismiss it, I shall enrich my work with the description of the spectre in Atto III. sc. 7, jiirisiod. Ebben : sia questo adunque L' ultimo orror, che dal mio labbro intendi. Come or vedi tu me, cosi vegg' io L' ombra sovente della figlia uccisa, Ed ahii quanto tremenda ! Allor che tutte Dormon le cose, ed io sol veglio, e siedo Al chiaror fioco di notturno lume, Ecco il lum.e repente impallidirsi, E neir alzar degU occbi ecco Io spettro Starmi d' incontro, ,cd occupar la porta Minaccioso, e gigante, Egli e ravvolto In manto sepolcral, quel manto stesso, Onde Dirce coperta era quel giornd, Che passo nella tomba. I suoi capelli Aggruppati nel sangue e nella polve A rovescio gli cadono sul volto, E piu Io fanno, col celarlo, orrendo. Spaventato io m' arretro, e con un grido VoIg» ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. Volgo altrove ]a fronte ; e mel rivcggo Seduto al fianco. Mi rigiiarda fisu, Ed immobile stassi, e non fa motto. Poi dal volto togliendosi le chiome, E piovcndone sangue, aprc la veste E squarciato m' addita utcro e seno Di nera tabe ancor stillante e brutto. lo lo rcspingo, ed ei piu fiero incalza, E col petto mi preme e colic braccia. Parmi allora scntir sotto la -mano Tepidc e rottc palpitar le viscera, E quel tocco d' orror mi drizza i crini. Tento fuggir : ma pigliami lo spettro Traverse i fianchi, e mi strascina a' piedi Di quella tomba, e qui x' aspetto, grida : E cio detto sparisce, Austod. Then hear me, and be this the last Of thy kind sympathy. I have too oft Profan'd your ear with tales that nature shrinks To listen to. Too true, alas, were all. And this is too authentic, as these eyes. And throbbing heart, confess. I saw the shade Of my fall'n daughter in the dead of night When ail things slept around, but guilt and woe That 'woke with me : I saw her as I sat By the faint gleams of an expiring lamp. V9 It 320 HISTORICAL MEMOIR It suddenly grew pale, t rais'd my eyes And there it stood, a tow'ring, ghastly shape In a sepulchral stole that wrapt around Its limbs of giant mold. It was the dress That Dirce wore when in the tomb they laid Her mangled limbs. On me a lowering look She threw, and in aposturethat deny'd Escape (if I had thought on that) she stood Full in the passage. O'er her hideous front Her matted ringlets hung with dust and blood Defil'd, a horrid shade ! and seem'd a mask. Far, far more horrible than what they hid. I started back, and with a friglitful scream Of terror, turn'd away my face, — but there. There 'twas at my side, in hideous state Enthron'd ! On me it fixt its stern regard. And sat awhile unmov'd and dumb as death. Then on a sudden starting up, it drew From its pale features the dishevell'd hair That rain'd on me a bloody shower. But not Content with this, it threw its funeral vest Aside, in wide display, and shew'd the deed Of this disastrous hand. I strove to close The horrid scene, and drew the flowing vest Together close. With frantic haste, she rent Again the bloody veil away: then clasp'd My bosom to her bosom with main force. Methought ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 321 Methought I felt her agonizing heart. And her torn bowels, underneath my hand. Yet palpitating with remains of life. My locks were bristled up with fear. I try'd In vain to fly. With mighty hand she selz'd Her trembling victim, led me to her tomb. And HERE I WAIT THY coming! with a scream Aloud she cry'd; — then vanish'd from my view.(j) When it was observed by a profound and elegant critic, that no dramatic writer, except Shakspeare, has set forth the pangs of guilt separate from the fear of punishment, (r) tlie Aristodemo of our author had not yet appeared. For in this play, the mental agonies of the hero do not arise from the fear of punishment, but from the stings of remorse. Like the Macbeth of our immortal bard, this tragedy is therefore ad- mirably calculated to medicate the mind by the operation of pity and terror. In his Galeotto Manfredi, our poet softens his brow. He is mild, but he is still majestic. He la^'s his thunder aside, and seizes on the flaming brand of love. But even this piece is not without its horrors. We shudder at the black villany (y) Clothed in the marble of a Michclagnolo, or embodied in thecolcurs of a FnsELi, how truly terrific would tlie shade of Dirce appear ! — Monii, however, has evinced much judge- ment, and great knowledge of human nature, in exhibiting this phantom only in descjiption. Ghosis intended to haunt and affright the guilty s'ould not appear upon the stage. It cer- tainly was not the intention of Shakspeare, that the " powder'd form" of Banquo's ghost should sit in Macbeth's place. (r) Mis. Montagu, Essay an the Wnt'wgt and Geniia of Shakspeare, Lond. 1777. /. iSo. T t of g28 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT, of Zambrino and the manner.of Manfredi's death, while we ^ ' . commiserate the agonizing contrition of Matilda. And on reading the concluding scene we are tempted to exclaim with the author Oh spettacolo pietoso Che trar potrebbe dalle selci il pianto! In the blunt integrity of Ubaldo we find much to admire. And our tears mingle involuntarily with those of the lovely, the grateful, and the unfortunate Elisa. In the following scene (Atto i.) between Manfredi and his minister, we are presented with an useful lesson for those who are subject to the tyranny of the passions. Ubald. Signer, tuo stato e fiero assai. La piaga Sanar si puo d' una belta malvagia; Che in cor bennato amor malnato e breve j Ma beltade e fatal quando e pudica. Che pretendi pero ? Questo delirio, Questa follia ti disonora. Man/. II veggo. Ubald. II tuo rimorso ]a condanna. Manf. II sento. Ubald. E che ne speri ? Manf. Non lo so. Ubald. Nol sal ? Ascolta dunquci io tel diro, la benda lo ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 323 lo squarccro, che si t' ofFusca i lumi. Amar non 6 che desiar. Ma guarda. Fra il tuo desire, e il desiato oggetto Un' intervallo orrendo si frappone; E per varcarlo calpestar t' ^ d' uopo Fama ed onor: degli uomini e del cielo Le leggi violar : spegner per via Cento rimorsi per crearne millc, Che poi faranti detestar la luce, Tremar nell* ombra, e trabalzar nel sonno. Allor ti grideranno, e fia quel grido Un muggito di tomba: un' innocente Tu seducesti, e abbandonasti ingrato Una tenera moglle, che di pianto Bagna il letto deserto. E in che ti spiacquc La sventurata? In che t' offese ? I vezzi Gli avea celesti, ne il suo cor conobbe Un sospiro, un desio, che tuo non fossc- Inconstante t' amo: che non avria Fatto, fedele? Ed ella ancor t' adora, Eti perdona. Oh! mio signor, deh torna. Tornale in braccio; palpitar la scnti Contro il tuo seno, e cangcrai consigllo. Si, gli amplessi di moglie, o prence mio. Son posscnti e divini: una dolcezza Spandon su 1' alma che rapisce; e sola Tutti assorbe gli affetti. Andiam, vien mecoj Tt 2 Gia S24 • HISTORICAL MEMOIR Ubald. yianf. Ubald. Manf. Ubald. Manf. Ubald. Gia sei coramosso: a consolarla andiamo Via, t' arrendi, signer. Your state, my lord, is dangerous. Flying wounds Given by loose glances will admit a cure. A vicious passion in a noble mind Gains no sure footing; but where virtue's charms- Point the soft light'ning of a modefl: eye. No buckler of the mind can ward the blow. Yet think, my lord, 'tis but a raving fit, A fond delirium. It becomes not well The father of his people. Too, too well I feel it. Bring the lawless longing home Before the bosom tribunal, and tell What says the unbrib'd judge. Too well I know^ What do you know? 1 know not.. Do'st not know?' Then mark me : I will tell thee. Stand thy ground. And show thy fortitude, while thus I tear The bandage from thine eyes that blinds thy sense. - What is thy love so noble, so refTn'd? What, but an ardent wish unsanctify'd By reason's voice? The object of thy longing,, What is it but a meteor borne away Beyond a horrid interval, a gulph By ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 325 By fame, by honor guarded, by the powers Of heaven and earth combin'dr On these thy foot Must trample, ere thou gain'st the fatal point. You quench the noblest feelings, madly charge Thro' the deep legions of remorse that guard The pass — tho' millions in their room will rise. What has thy fatal conquest gain'd at last.? Hell-haunted dreams and midnight-wakings dread. While conscience ever pealing in thine ear. Or, like a hollow murmur from the tomb. Shall tell a damning tale of maids betray'd. And then abandon'd, while thy faithful spouse Bathes her deserted couch with widow'd tears. And canst thou thus desert a faithful spouse.' W^hat is her fault? Say is her form decay 'd.' What various cha ms does your Eliza boast Which she possesses not ? Does not her heart .In all its wishes harmonize with thine? She loves thee still, inconstant as thou art. Heaven! what an ardent flame had warm'd her breuji.. Glow'd in her cheek, and sparkled in her eye If thou her tender passion hadst return'd ! Even yet she loves !^ — O what a proof of love She gives thee still ! — she will not see thy faults. Turn, turn, my lord, and to thy yielding breast Press that dear bosom where a htart resides To thee devoted. Soon thou wilt perceive In the soft raptures of connubial love, A trans- 326 ^ HISTORICAL MEMOIR A transport far superior to the glow Tliat 'tends the fever of a guilty flame. Come, come, I see thee somewhat mov'd already; It is a blessed moment. Come and try How sweet it is to sooth a sinking heart. To see the beam of love relume the eye And banish pale despair. In Sc. 2. Atto V. night as it appears to " a mind diseased," is well described. And in the following passage we discover Addison's fine description of the interval between the birth and consummation of plots, almost literally translated. Tra il concepire, e 1' eseguir qualcuna Feroce impresa, 1' intervallo e sempre Tutto di larve pieno e di terrore. Att. V. Sc. 5. Oh, think what anxious moments pass between The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods ! Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death ! Cato Act I. Sc. 3. " L' argomento di questa tragedia," says the author, " e tratto dal Tonducci nelle sua storia di Faenza. L' essere io stato educato in quella culta, e brillante Citta, ove contrassi tante buone amicizie ; 1' aver veduto ocularmente la stanza medesima, in cui narrasi esser seguito questo tragico avveni- mento ; gli amici, chc per amor di patria mi stimolarono a trattarlo; ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 327 trattarlo ; il mio dcsidcrio di dar loro iin solenne attcstato ^^'^T. della mia gratitudine ; furonoqiieti i niotivi, che mi mossero — , — ' a scrivere il Galeotto Manfredi." In this passage, the source from wliich Monti drew his story, is only pointed out; but in Mr. Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo de' Medici, (5) ail the parti- culars of Manfredi's tragical death are minutely and perspi- cuously narrated. It now remains to speak of the author. In what part of Italy the Abate Monti was born, I am not prepared to tell. But we learn from the argument to his Manfredi, that he Was educated in the " culta, e brillante" city of Faenza. At present he is an inhabitant of Rome, where he lately filled, with ability and integrity, the ofhce of secretary to the duke di Nemi, nephew to the unfortunate Pius VI. But though he had to business shap'd the poet's quill, he did not totally abandon the muses. In the year 1*793 he published a poem, in terza rima,on the death of Hugo de Basse- ville, the French envoy at Rome, who, having rendered him- self disagreeable to the papal court by protecting an officious spirit of proselytism to the opinions then professed at Paris, was murdered in a riot on the 23d of January in the same year. This poem, which is entitled. In Morte di Ugo Basse- ville, is made the subject of an interesting article in the (i) /v. ii./. 1 68 — 172. Mr. Roscoe observes a striking coincidence between this event, and the narrative of Paulus Diaconus, upon which Giovanni Rucellai has founded his tra- gedy of Rosmunda. /. 169, note. — According to Muratori, the death of Manfredi happened on the 31ft of May, 1488. Afin. d' Jial. tQin, ix, /, 2S9. Monthly 328 HISTORICAL MEMOIR SECT. Monthly Review for 1794. "It is," says the ingenious critic, , ^ "• . ^' a serious epic poem, resembhng in manner that of Dante, and certainly not inferior in fanciful sublimity. The author takes the ground of a high religious zealot, to whom the insulted rights of his sacred country are most dear. He qua- lities the fury of the rabble as " dispetto magnanimo e giusto sdegno," and seems ambitious of canonizing the holy army which tore in pieces the supposed enemy of the church. He first presents us with the slaughtered body of Basseville, and exhibits the soul as slowly liberating itself from the clay. Satan lays claim to it: but an angel of light obtains charge of it for the period destined to its purgation, and transports it through the air to France : E supplicio ti sia ]a vista orrenda Deir empia patria tua! Be it thy destin'd penance to survey Thy country's doom in hornble display. The aerial journey is highly poetical. On the Sardinian shore they behold the fragments of shattered ships, and car- cases of the repulsed invaders. They visit Marseilles only to shudder at the licentiousness of the populace, and at the profanation of a crucifix. Next they hover over the apostate town of Avignon. At length, sights of increasing horror announce the vicinity of Paris. The second canto allegorically describes the abominations of this second Babylon : then the execution of Louis XVI. The ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 329 The ghosts of Damiens, Ravaillac, Ankarstroem, and of a SECT. fourtli, who conceals with his hand his name written in blood . ^ ' . on his forehead, bring fogs from the abyss to quench all emotion of pity in the spectators. The spirits of the French martyrs who fell for their king, receive his soul, and accom- pany it to Empyreum. The third canto introduces Basseville moved by this scene to penitence, and asking forgiveness of Louis ; to whom he narrates his adventure, and who bestows his pardon in these sublime words : Amai, potendo odiarlo, anco il nemicoj Or m' e tolto il poterlo. While yet on earth, with reason's strong controul, I check'd the swelling tempest of the soul. And oft, with royal transmutation, strove To turn the rising tide of gall to lovej Oft I delay'd the meditated blow. And smil'd forgiveness on the prostrate foe; But in these regions of eternal rest. Each rude malignant motion leaves the breast. Now follows the triumph of the Parisians for the death of Louis. The ghosts of the philosopliers are represented as thronging greedily about the scaffold, to drink the blood of the king. A cherub with a flaming sword restrains them. Two (Voltaire and Rousseau) are thus character i zed : U u Capitano 330 HISTORICAL MEMOIR Capltano di mille, alto si vede Uno spettro passar lungo ed arcigno Superbamente coturnato il piede ; E costui di Ferney 1' empio e maligno Filofofante, ch' or trai morti e corbo, E fu trai vivi poetando un cigno. And now the foremost of a numerous train, All gaunt and grim, a spectre cross'd the plain. With conscious pride the buskin'd limb he show'd. As o'er the shadowy plain fublime he trode ; — Ferney's reproach ! a God-defying name, A sophist damn'd to everlasting fame. And tho' on earth his swan-like numbers flow, He shrieks a raven in the shades below. Again : Vassene solo V eloquente ed irto Orator del Contratto, ed al par del manto Di Sofo, ha caro 1' Afrodisio mirto. Of aspect rude, but with enchanting tongue, Rousseau in lonely musing pac'd along ; To him the mantle of the sage was dear. But more he lov'd the myrtle wreath to wear. These spirits, like the fallen angels of Klopstock, contend" which has done most mischief; and the author of the Systeme de ON ITALIAN TRAGEDY. 331 de la Nature, obtains the prize." (^)— Besides this poem, and SECT. the tragedies already noticed, the Abate Monti has written . ^j' . Capitolo sulla visione d' Ezechielle, Versi alia Santita di N, S. Pic VI. and a collection of poems on various subjects, which were printed (1787) at Parma. In his Versi, the little poem entitled Entusiasmo Malinconico, is worthy the vigo- rous pencil, and gloomy genius of his favourite Dante : even the " black melancholy" of Pope, breathing her horrors o'er the deep woods, and falling waters of the Paraclete, must yield, in sublimity, to the Entusiasmo Malinconico of our author. Though it would seem from this poem, that me- lancholy had marked the Abate Monti " for her own," yet we sometimes find his muse tripping lightly in the measure of Anacreon, and sometimes, with a gay air, offering incense to the fair. ♦' I remember the Abate Monti extremely well," says one of my obliging correspondents. " I heard him re- cite passages from his Aristodemo, before it was published, in the Arcadian Academy of Rome. It was he who composed the elegant Anacreontic that hangs in the museum Clemen- tinum." In the Antologia for July 1786, a beautiful can- zonetta addressed, by our author, to the duchess of Nemi on her arrival at the baths of Pisa, is preserved. And in the (/) Voh xvi,/. 514, 51 J. This critical analysis is concluded with a wish that the excellent translator of Dante's Infcr:;o (the Rev. Mr. Boyd) would undertake a triiislation of the poem. How highly qualified he is for such an undertaking, will appear from ihc version, given in the text, of the passages selected by the reviewer for the illustration of his analyfis. Except in the translation of the lines beginning " Amai, potendo, &c." my friend has adhered closely to his original, U 2 u same SS2 HISTORICAL MEMOIR, &c. SJECT. same work for January, 1787, honorable mention is made of * — ^^ the Aristodemo, and an account given of the flattering manner in which the Infanta evinced her gratitude to the author for the pleasure which she had derived from the perusal of his play. This mark of royal favor was a gold medal, with the Infanta's portrait on one side, and, on the reverse, the genius of the drama presenting a laurel crown to each of the drama- tic muses. The following motto encircles the device : NOVUM UTRIQUE COLLATUM DECUS. With the Abate Monti I shall close my series of the tragic writers of Italy : thus borrowing the lustre of his name to crown my humble labours. OUCYMPIC THEATM*. ADDITIONAL NOTES. (i) i. HE fraternitii del Gonfalone was, \vc know, instituted in the year 1264, for the express purpose of representing The Passion of our Saviour, in the coli- soeum of Rome. But as the actors were iruniniate, and the fable, of course, con- ducted without dialogue, the claim of that fraternity to the revival of the drama in Italy, may be disputed. The late Mr. Warton dates its revival from the miracle- play of Christ, represented in the year 1298, in Civita Vecchia. Hist, of Eng. Poet. vol. i. sect. 6. Had this ingenious writer pursued the enquiry a little far- ther, he might have discovered miracle-plays originating amongst the fabliers Fran- ^ais, whose rude effusions (which are said to have given birth to the French stage) were not only known, but relished, — and perhaps imitated, — in Italy, in the age of Dante, Pctrarca, and Boccaccio. See Fabliaux ou contes du xii'if/ du yXv^ siecle. Par. 1781. torn. ii. p. 119 — 123. Mr. Pinkerton (Hist, of Scot. vol. \i. p. /j3i)has intro- duced to our notice a dramatic writer of so early a period as the tenth century, — I mean the fair Hroswitha, a German nun who flourished about the year 980. This lady wrote six comedies, " ad yemulationem Terentii," of which an edition was printed at hurenberg, 1501. (2) The passage in Rucellai's Rosmunda which I promised in the text, it as follows : di questo ventre In brevissimo tempu nascer ponno Molti vendicator del sangue nostro. Ai/o ii. (3) As my copy of La Giuli -tta of Liiigi da Porto is in manuscript, I do not refer to the pages from which 1 make my extracts. For this literary rarity, I am indebted to my friend Robert W. Wade, Esq. of Knightsbridge, a gentleman whose zeal in the service of his friends can only be equalled by the elegance of his taste, and the universality of his genius. — I had finished my comparative view of the Adriana and La Giulietta before I consulted the Eloquenza Italiana, in which I End 334 ADDITIONAL NOTES. I find it observed tliat the action of the Adriana " e tratta dalla prima novella del secondo volume del Bandello." Da Porto and Bandello, it is true, relate the same story; but I am still, however, of opinion, that Da Porto was Groto's guide: and I am also inclined to think, that either the annals or the legendary tales of his own country, furnished Groto with a fact similar to that on which his tragedy is founded. (4) As the Theseida of Boccaccio, is become a remarkable rarity of Italian literature, it may gratify the curiosity of the reader to be told, that a perfect copy of die edition of this work, printed &i Ferrara, 1475, /o/. is in the collection of Henry George Quln, Esq. of Dublin Castle. U) Amongst the various conjectures on the origin of the Paradise Lost, and on Milton's obligations to other writers, I do not recollect to have seen it observed, that the dialogue which takes place between Satan and Michael, during a short suspension of the war in heaven, fBook vi. /. 262— 295^ was probably suggested hv the following passage in Jean Petlt's justification of the conduct of the duke of Burgundy, in regard to the death of the Duke of Orleans. " Lucifer soy regar- dant, et considerant sa noble creature tant belle et tant parfaicte, dit en sa pensee luy mesmes : Je feray tant que je mettray ma chaire et mon throsne au dessus de tous les autres anges, et seray semblable a Dieu. C'est a s^avoir qu'on luy feroit obeissance comme a Dieu, et pour ce faire il decent une grand partie des anges et ies attrahit a son opinio, c'est a s^avolr qu'ils luy feroient obeissance, honneur et reverence par maniere d'hommage, comme a leur souverain seigneur, et ne se- rolent de riens subiects a Dieu mais a iceluy Lucifer, lequel tiendroit sa maicste pareillement comme Dieu la sienne, exempte de toute la seigneurie de Dieu et de toute sa subiection. Et ainsi voulloit tolllr a Dieu son createur et souverain seig- neur la grad partie de sa seigneurie et les attribuer a soy, et ce luy faisoit fairc con- voitise, qui s'estoit boutee en so courage. Si tost que S. Michel apperceut cela, il s'en vint a luy et luy dit que c'estoit trop mal fait et que iamals ne voulsist faire telle chose, et que de tat que Dieu I'avoit fait plus bel et plus parfalt de tous les autres, de tant devoit il monstrer grelgncur signc de reverence, subiection et obeis- sance a celuy qui I'avoit fait plus bel, qui estoit son roy et souverain sclgneiii-. Lucifer dit, qu'il n'e feroit riens. Sainct Michel dit que luy et les autres ne souf- frerolcm point telle iniure faire a leur createur et souverain seigneur, briefuement la bataille se meut entre celuy S. Michel et Lucifer." The learned theologian then proceeds to relate the fall of the angels in the ^vords of " Monselgneur Sainct Jean," Chron. de Monstrdct, vol. i. /'. 39. (6) As ADDITIONAL NOTES. 335 (6) As 1 have ventured to conjecluie that the Villa E^tense at Tivoli is coven ly described in tlic Aisinda ol Tesii, I shall iiere transcribe the passage upon vhich I found this surmise. Abbia.Ti rcggie; abbiam moll M.ngnificlic, e snperbe anco trj noi. L' oro, Ic gcmmc, ogn' altro Piii pregiate ornamento Voi gl' avcte di IS, noi ve li diamo; E son vostri tesoii i nosiri avan-/.i. Di quell' opre io stupisco, in cui rispIcnJe L' aliezzi del pensicro, in cui rifulgc D' un' ingegno invenror la pellegrina Noviia curiosa. Alzar da terra E sospese sii gl' arclii Quasi in braccio del cielo Selve piantar, che faccian' ombra al sole^ Sovra immense colonne. In vastissima conca Di ben commesse pietre Racorre intiero un lago, e come augelli, Kudrir ne 1' aria i pesci ; in campo aprico Tirar d'erbe gentili Con studiosa man linee fiorite, Che misurin del biondo auriga eterno I iHcidi viaggi Si, ch' un' ombra ingegnosa Del dl volante additi A Humeri di fiori 1' ore odorate j Trar da romitabalza Vago ruscel, mandar gl' algcnti umori Per sotterranee vie di caro piombo A dar musica voce A sonoro strumento D' argentee canne, et insegnir a 1' aequc D' aliernar dolcemcnte a 1' altrui canto Aggiustata armonia d' umido spirto In questo, Ateste, in questo Stan le mie meraviglie, e tal non hanno Ch' io sappia, i nostri lidi. Tlie 336 ADDITIONAL NOTES. The musical wafer-works, to which ihe poet so prettily alludes, slill remain,-— but ihey are now silent and neglected! Indeed the whole villa, like the family to which it once belonged, is falling fast to decay: — but it is magnificent even in ruins I Perhaps some future historian of the art of gardening may one day visit the villa, in order to seek out, amidst its n)ouldering remains, the true origin of what ihe French term " I'architeciure du jardinage," in m.odern Italy ; for it was, I believe, in the fantastic garden of this villa, it began. Nor is it unlikely that the idea was in- spired by the villa Adriana which stands in the neighbourhood. It was certainly in the villa Estense, if we may credit Tassoni, that the ancient art of making water produce musical sounds was revived. " II primo, che facesse fare fontane con organi di canne di stagno, che giorno, e notte musicalmente sonassero, alternando diversi suoni, fii il Cardmale Hippollto di Ferrara, nel suo mirabil giardino di Tivoli." Pens, divers, p. 400. I'en. 1646. Perhaps these gardens may be some- times traced in Milton's description of the garden of Eden. Being pensile, they, of course, contain Shade above shade, a woody theatre. And as they are surrounded with a wall which seems to have bei-n kept down for the purpose of letting in the circumjacent country, it may be fairly conjectured, that our divine bard had them in his mind when he describes Eden as giving, to our general sire, Prospect large Into his nether empire neighbouring round. In these gardens too are Umbrageous grots and caves Of cool recess. These it may be said, are Fancies built on nothing firm. I do not insist on the stability of their foundation. But surely it will not be denied, that much of the mental wealth which Milton acquired from observation on the continent, enriches the pages of his immortal poem ! (7) While these sheets were passing through the press, the letter of an Italian friend acquainted me with the death of Count Pepoli ; an event which every lover of elegant literature must deplore. (8) My notice was first directed to the dramatic writings of the Abate Monti by my lovely aad accomplished friend the late Marchioness Rondinini. Her refined taste AtiDITIONAL NOTES, J37 tasl« appreciated iTieir merit, and her feeling breast paid due homage to their prcdn- iminant horrors. During the progress of this woric, I was often animated by the hope of gratifying her with this feeble attempt at tracing out the Iiisiory of an art she loved, and in which she was highly qualified to excel. But when my labours were drawing to a conclusion, heaven, in pity, snatched her from the agoni;;ing sight of her beloved Italy humbled before the fell spirit of democracy. Heu ! flore venustatis abrepta. Page 1 1. Should any thing which has been said in regard to Galeottn del Carretto excite a desire to enquire into the history of his family, I shall beg leave to direct the reader's notice to thr second part of Bandello's Novelle, wliere he may find, Istoria de I' ori^me de i sigg. marches} del Carretto, et altri march/'iati in Mon- ferrato e ne le Langhe, Kov. 27. Bandello shared with Galeotto, the protectiorj of Isabella d' Este Gonzaga : several of his novels are addressed to this lady. Page 84. Having omitted to notice, in the proper place, the first edition of the Orazia of Aretino, I shall transcribe its full title here : Tragedia intitolata /' Ora%ia di AI. Pietro Aretino. In Venezia, Giolito de Ferrari, 1546, in 8t/o. Page 47. De Bure refers the first edition of the tragedy entitled IlUhero Arb'i. trio, to the year 1546, but says that the second edition [Stamp. I' anno 1550. in ^vo. " est la plus recherch^e dcs curieux, parcequ'elle renferme des augmenta- tions qui ne sont pas dans la premiere." Bibhog. instruct, torn. i. p. yig. We learn from the same industrious compiler, that this tragedy has been translated into Latin and French. The Latin translation I have not seen ; but I shall give the title of the last French version : La Tragtdie du Roi Franc-Arbitre, en laquelle Its abus, pratiques et ruses cauteleuses deV Ante-Christ, sontauvifdeclarces, d'unstyle fort plaj sunt et recrca- tif, et nouv. trad, de t Italien en Francois. Itnpr. a Ville-Francke, 1559, '" ^vo. It is to be lamented that the most defective part of the Bibliographic Instructive is the catalogue of the " Poetes Dramatiques Italiens." Page 238. It seems to have escaped the notice of all Pope's biographers, that when the Marquis Maffei visited Twickenham, in company with Lord Builington and Dr. Mead, he found the English bard employed on a translation of his Merope : X.X )et 338 ADDITIONAL NOTES. yet the public have been in possession of this anecdote above fifty years. The Marquis in his answer to the celebrated letter addressed to him by Voltaire, says, " Avendomi Mylord Come di Burlington, e il Sig. Dottore Mead, 1' uno c 1' altro talent! rari, ed a quali quant' io debba non posso dire, condotto alia villa del Sig. Pope, ch' e il Voltaire dell' Inghilterra, come voi siete il Pope della Francia, quel bravo Poeta mi fece vedere, che lavorava alia versione della mia Tragedia in versj Inglesi : se la terminasse, c che ne sia divenuto, non so." La Merope. Ver. 1745, p. 180. With the fate of this version we are, and probably shall ever remain, un- acquainted : it may, however, be safely presumed, that it was never finished to the satisfaction of the translator, and therefore committed to the flames. Page 264, Note [u). I have said that the French opera of Jepthe might have sug- gested to Granelli the idea of making the affecting story of the sacred Iphigenia the subject of a tragedy. It has since occurred to me, that if the idea was not original *vith Granelli, it is more probable that it was suggested by the Jephthes, sive votum, of George Buchanan ; a drama on the severe plan of Seneca. The action of this tragedy is occasionally suspended by odes sung by a chorus of the daughters of Israel ; and the mother of the heroine is introduced to heighten the pathos : — an angel delivers the prologue. Page 208. In my account of the institution of the Arcadian Academy, I have related, that it was resolved, " that each member should assume a pastoral name." In illustration of this fact, I might have mentioned the pastoral name decreed by the academy to the author of this work,— • EUBANTK TiRINZIO. j^> (Sii2£. APPENDIX. APPENDIX. No. I. CONJECTURAL AND CRITICAL OBSERVATIONS ON 1. The SOPHONISBA of Thomson ; 2. Ihe CATO of Addison ; 3. The CATONE of Metastasio. ♦' What is borrowed is not to be enjoyed as our own ; and it is the businefs of critical justice to give every bird of the Muses his proper feather. Johnson. I. The SoPHONiSBA of Thomfon. Though Thomson, in the elegant little preface to his So- phonisba, does not acknowledge any obligations to the Sofo- nisba of Trissino, yet I am inclined to think he has many. The plots of both plays are conducted in the same manner, with this difference onl}^ that, in the Italian tragedy, Cato once appears, and a chorus remains constantly upon the stage. But as the appearance of that stern republican was not ne- a cessarv ii APPENDIX. No. r cessary to promote, or hasten the catastrophe, it might be dis- pensed with ; and the laws of the English stage proscribed the chorus. However, though Thomson, in obedience to the dramatic laws to which he was subject, omitted the chorus, yet he seems to have done so witli some reluctance ; as he subjoins to his drama " A nuptial song, intended to have been inserted in the fourth act ;" which, had it been intro- duced, was to have been sung, chorally, by the female atten- dants of Sophonisba. Into this song our poet has transfused several beauties from an Ode to Love, in Trissino's tragedy, beginning Amor, che ne i leggiadri, &c. But this is not the only occasion on which the English poet- seems indebted to the Italian hard ; in the following passages the marks of imitation are strong. The manner in which Syphax was made prisoner, is thus' related by both poets. Mess. - - i^.^r- ,- His fiery steed ■ By Masinissa, the massylian prince, Pierc'd, threw him headlong to his clustering foes j And now he comes in chains. E mentre, ch'era intento a questa cosa, Trovossi in mezzo de i nimici armati, Che gli uccisero sotto il suo cavalloj Pbi No, I. APPENDIX. iii Poi con tanto furor gli andaro adosso, Che'a viva forza nel menar' prigionc. When the captivity of Thomson's Sophonisba appears in- evitable, she exclaims, And is it fit for mc, Who in my veins, from Asdrubal deriv'd. Hold Carthaginian enmity to Rome. Is it fit for me To sit in feeble grief, and trembling wait Th' approaching viftor's rage, reserv'd in chains To grace his triumph, and become the scorn Of every Roman dame ? Gods ! how my soul Disdains the thought ! This, this fliall set it free.— • (Offers to Slab he>sel/.} Sara, ch'io lasci la regale stanza, E lo nativo mio dolce terreno ; E ch'io trappassi il mare, E mi convenga stare In servifu, sotto'l supcrbo frcno Di gentc aspra, e proterva, Nimica natural del mio paese. Non fien di me, non fien tal' cose intese ; Piu tosto vo' morir, che viver serva. a s In iv APPENDIX No. I. In the English play, Phoenissa, the friend and confidant of Sophonisba, prevents the execution of the bloody purpose of the queen, observing, at the same time, that death is our last resort, and always sure. adding, however, that she would herself rather urge the faithful poniard to her heart, than see her drag a chain. And walk the triumph of insulting Rome. In the Italian tragedy, the chorus interferes on the same occasion, and in the same manner ; and employs similar ar- guments to dissuade Sophonisba from having immediate re- course to suicide, to save herself from captivity. Buon e, buon e fuggir si crude mani ; Ma non gia con la morte ; Ch'ella e I'estremo mal di tutti i mali. While Masinissa is raising the kneeling Sophonisba, the English poet makes him thus call upon the gods to confirm his promise. here I swear. By the tremendous powers that rule mankind ! By heaven, and earth, and hell ! by love and glory ! The No. I. APPENDIX. The Romans shall not hurt you take this royal hand, The pledge of surety. We find the same form of invocation in tlie Italian drama. E per maggior chiarezza, la man destra Toccar vi voglio ; ct or per questa giuro, E per quel Dio, che m' ha dato favorc A racquistar il mio paterno impero, Che servato vi fia quel, che prometto ; E non andrete in forza de' Romani, Mentre, che sara vita in questc membra. The circimistance of offering the hand in pledge of surety, is an historic fadb, for which both poets are indebted to the Roman historian. Masinissa's letter, or message, to Sopho- nisba, and her condu6l on receiving it, are copied too, as well by the Italian as the English poet, from the relation of Livy. But the former has shown more regard to religious propriety in making his heroine, after she has drained the fatal bowl, prepare for death by offering a sacrifice to Proserpine. La regina era andata dopo questo, Nel piu secreto luogo de la casa Per fare un sacrificio, che facesse Proserpina bcnigna a la sua morte. That Vi APPENDIX. No. I, That Thomson was determined (as he asserts) to make choice of this siibjectby the simplicity of the story, I am wil- ling to believe ; but to infer, from his silence, that he was un- acquainted with the Italian tragedy, would be to do violence to probabiIit3^ It is alluded to in the prologue " by a friend." Besides, as the English tragedy appeared about the time that Thomson was preparing to travel with Mr. Charles Talbot, it may be presumed that Italian literature was not forgotten in his preparatory studies. But whatever Thomson appropriated, he improved. His plot is better conducted than that of the Italian poet; and the few sentiments which he has borrowed, he has splendidly in- vested with his luxuriant diction, producing, by the force of his own genius, a tragedy which drives the passions to theii "full tumult of emotion." 2. The Cato of Addison. WE are told by Tickell, that Addison wrote four acts of his Cato during his travels ; but Dr. Johnson seems to think, that he then only collected his materials, and formed his plan. It is certain, however, that the -last act was written after his re- turn to England. If we admit that Milton, with the Book of Genesis lying open before him, condescended to borrow ma- terials for his Paradise Lost, from two Italian dramas of in- ierior ^^O. I. APPENDIX. Viu ferior merit ; may we not suppose that Arklipon. tlioiigli he- found the subject of his tragedy in R(>man liistorv, would jJot disdain to borrow hints for tlic conduct of his fable, or inci- dents for itS' embellishment, from an obscure Italian writer? Perhaps we might go farther and say, that the Italian opera, of which he gives so ludicrous an account in his travels, first suggested to him the idea of making Cato the hero of a tra- gedy. It does not, I think, appear that Addison mentioned to any of his literary friends, before his departure for the conti- nent, his intention of writing a tragedy upon that subject ; but it is not, we find, denied that he either wrote part of his tragedy in Italy, or collected materials for it " while he was travelling at leisure." But this is a point upon which " sha- dows, clouds and darkness" must for ever rest : however, a ray ©f light seems to beam upon it, from a quarter, towards which' none of his biographers have, I believe, ever turned their, eyes. " During my stay at Venice/' says Addison, " the opera' that was most in vogue, was built on the following subject : Csesar and Scipio are rivals for Cato's daughter. Caesar's first words bid his soldier's fly, for the enemies are upon them ; ' fi leva Cesare, e dice a' soldati; a la fugga, a lo scampo 1' The daughter gives the preference to Caesar, which is made the occasion of Cato's death. Before lie kills himself, you see him withdrawn into his library, where, among his books, I observed the titles of Plutarch and Tasso. After a short soliloquy. Viii APPENDIX. No. I. soliloquy, he strikes himself with the dagger that he holds in his hand ; but, being interrupted by one of his friends, he stabs him for his pains, and, by the violence of the blow, un- luckily breaks the dagger on one of his ribs ; so that he is forced to dispatch himself by tearing up his first wound." That Addison raised his elegant structure upon the founda- tion laid by the Italian poet, I will not assert : but I think it may be presumed, that he learned from the opera, which he so happily ridicules, to disgrace his noble tragedy with a love intrigue. In the English, as well as in the Italian drama, soft vows and amorous sighs, mingle themselves with the shouts of hostile armies. In both, the daughter of Cato has her lovers; and even while the enemy is thundering at the gate, and Cato preparing himself for death, Marcia and her friend Lucia, calmly converse upon the subject of their respective passions. I doubt, could we see the Italian drama, whether we should find any thing more censurable in it. The Italian poet produces his catastrophe by the mean of love : the English bard lumbers his scenes, and obstructs the progress of his fable, with six whining lovers. Love is the soul which animates the Italian drama; but, in the English tragedy, it is a subtle and corrosive poison which preys upon its vital parts. But it is not in the love intrigue only, that Addison seems to have imitated the Italian poet. The hero of each drama prepares for death, and perpetrates suicide in the same manner. When the hero of the Italian drama has resolved on death, he 2 retires No. I. APPENDIX. iX retires to his library, repeats a soliloquy, and when he is in the act of raising his hand to terminate his existence, he is inter- rupted by the entrance of a friend, whom he strikes in the wrath of disappointment. The Cato of Addison retires to his study also, repeats a soliloquy; and when he is about to give himself the fatal wound, Fortius enters, and narrowly escapes tlie same punishment of the intruder in the Italian drama ; for though Cato does not stab, or strike him, he threatens to do so, and is only restrained by a sudden impulse of paternal affection. Retire, and learn obedience to a father, Or know, young man ! That Addison was acquainted with the incidents in the Italian drama, which we have detailed, is unquestionable, for it is from him we learn them: nor can it be denied, that there are parallel incidents in his tragedy. It is true that the man- ner of Cato's death, and the attending circumstances in both dramas, may be found in Plutarch. But we learn neither from history nor oral tradition, that Cato had a daughter shut up with him in Utica ; nor do his biographers number witii his children, one of the name of Marcia. May we not then presume, that the Marcia in question, owes her birth to the Italian poet, and that the love intrigue was drawn from the same source ? What other obligations Addison had to the Italian drama, I shall not venture to determine. I have b opened X APPENDIX. No: F: opened a field for conjecture, which my readers may now explore. Led by the foregoing enquiry into a careful examination of Dr. Johnson's Life of Addison, I was confirmed in an opi- nion which I have long entertained of the " sturdy moralist," that he was a careless narrator, and of a disposition too indo- lent for historic investigation. Addison, he says, returned from his travels in 1702 ; yet it appears, in the title-page of the account which he published of his tour, that he was abroad in 1703. The second edition, by Tonson (1718) of that amusing book, now lies before me, and is thus entitled, " Remarks on several Parts of Italy, &c. in the Years 1701, 1702, and 1703." Speaking of this work, Johnson says, that " his observations are such as might be supplied by an hasty view \" yet he tells us, in the same page, that he travelled " at leisure." " In about two years," continues our biographer, " he found it necessary to hasten home ; be- ing, as Swift informs us, distressed by indigence." I shall not positively deny the fact, but I shall beg leave to question the authority. It is in one of his bitterest satires that Swift says, Addison, by lords carest. Was left in foreign lands distrest ; and we know that in satires truth is often either tortured, exaggerated, or totally suppressed. In 1699,. a pension of three No. I. APPENDIX. XI three hundred pounds a year was settled on Addison, " tliat he might be enabled to travel/' says Johnson. With such an income, at tliat time, no man of common prudence could be reduced to indigence. And in common prudence, Addison was not deficient. Having gone a little out of my way, m order to correct a few misrepresentations in the life of a favourite writer, in a work which is universally read and admired, I shall return to observe, that the Cato of Utica, which was represented at Venice, in the theatre of St. John Chrysostom, during the carnival of 1701, and which is so particularly noticed by Ric- coboni, in his Reflexions sur les difterens Theatres de I'Europe, was pi-obably the identical opera which Addison saw. 3. Tbe Catone of Metastasio. It has been asserted, that Metastasio lias transfused into his Catone some of the most brilliant passages in the Cato of Addison. The charge is not without foundation. However, the Italian drama possesses so many original beauties, that the few instances of plagiarism, or rather imitation, whichi am about to adduce, cannot blast the verdure of the author's laurels, or diminish, in the smallest degree, his well-earned fame. When Arbaces solicits the hand of Marcia in the Italian opera, she reproves him, at least in the spirit, if not in the words of Addison's Cato. b a Marz. xu APPENDIX. No. I. Marz. Come ! Allor che paventa La nostra liberta rultimo fato, Che a nostri danni armato Arde il mondo di bellici furori, Parla Arbace di nozze, e chiede amori ! Juba having hinted at his passion for Marcia, Cato thus dis- misses him : Cato. Adieu, young prince ; I would not hear a word Should lessen thee in my esteem : remember The hand of fate is over us, and heav'n Exacts severity from all our thoughts : Is it now a time to talk of aught But chains, or conquest; liberty, or death? The conditions upon which Cato offers to accept the friend- ship of Cccsar, are the same in both dramas. Lascia dell' armi L'usurpato comando ; il grado eccelso Di dittator deponi ; e, come reo, Rendi, un carcere angusto. Alia patria ragion de' tuoi misfatti. Questi, se pace vuoi, saranno i patti. Addison's Cato, addressing Cgesar's ambassadors, says. Bid him disband his legions. Restore the commonwealth to liberty. Submit No. I. APPENDIX. xiii Submit his actions to the public censure. And stand the judgment of a Roman senate. Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend. Here, perhaps, history will step in, and assert her claim to those conditions. But she can establish no title to Cato's last address to his daughter, when he tells her, that A senator of Rome, while Rome surviv'd. Would not have match'd his daughter with a king. Yet we find the Marcia of Metastasio borrowing the same idea, when her father is urging her to marry Arbaces. E tu vorrai Che la tua prole istessa, una che nacque Cittadina di Roma, e fu nudrita AH' aura trionfal del campidoglio, Scenda al nodo d' un re ? But the following lines are almost a literal translation of part of Cato's celebrated speech over the body of his son, in the English tragedy. Ecco soggiacc Di Cesare all' arbitrio il mondo intero. Dunque (chi' I'crederia ?) per lui sudaro I Metelli, i Scipioni ? ogni Romano Tanto Xiv APPENDIX. No. I. Tanto sangue verso sol per cestui f E' r istesso Pompeo pugno per lui ? Misera llberta ! patria infelice ! Ingratlssimo figlio ! Altro il valore Non ti lascio degli avi, Nella terra gia doma, Da soggiogar che il campidoglio, e Roma. Whate'er the Roman virtue has subdu'd, The sun's whole course, the day and year, are Csesar's : For him the self-devoted Decii dy'd. The Fabii fell, and the great Scipios conquer'd : 'Ev'n Pompey fought for Ceesar. Oh, my friends ! How is the toil of fate, the work of ages, The Roman empire, fall'n ! Oh, curst ambition ! Fall'n into Cjesar's hands! our great fore-fathers Had left him nought to conquer, but his country. As we trace with pleasure, a favourite work to its origin, I •shall make no apology for observing, that the plot or fable of Metastasio's Catone, bears a strong affinity to that of the opera which Addison saw at Venice, and which both he and Ricco- boni have described. Scipio, it is true, is not one of Marcia's lovers in Metastasio's opera ; but we find Csesar at her feet, as in the Venetian drama. In the Venetian drama, the pre- ference which Cato's daughter shows for Ccesar, occasions the death of Cato : in Metastasio's opera, Marcia's preference of No.' f. APPENDIX. 'XV of Caesar to Arbaces, hastens the catastrophe. Nor should we omit to remark, that the cliorus which our lyric bard has in- troduced, meeting the triumphal car of Caesar, and singing Gia ti cede 11 mondo intcro. Sic. was probably suggested by the piece of machinery in the Venetian opera, which Riccoboni thus minutely describes : " As Cassar with his army is supposed not to be far from the scene where the action is laid, and that the inhabitants of the province had prepared an entertainment for him upon the banks of the river ; the ground of the stage represents a field, towards the middle of which, there was hung in the air a globe, resembling that of the world ; this globe was observed to advance, by degrees, towards the front of the stage, to the sound of trumpets, and other instruments, and all this without the spectators being able to discern the pullies and machines that directed the whole. In the moment when it comes oppo- site to Caesar, it opens into three parts, representing the then- three known parts of the world. The inside of the globe shines all with gold, precious stones, metals of all colours, and contains a great number of musicians." Though it may appear invidious to adduce a further charge of seeming plagiarism against Metastasio, I shall embrace this occasion to observe, that there is a striking resemblance be- tween sc. 3, atto III, of the Demetrio, and several passages ill Prior's Nut-brown Maid. In justice, however, to Metas- tasio,-. XVi APPENDIX. No. I, tasio, I must declare, that he was ignorant of English, and that Edward and Emma never, I believe, appeared in any other language. The similitude must therefore be accidental. And as coincidence of thought will happen to all who consi- der the same, or similar subjects, I should be sorry if it were inferred from any thing I may have advanced, that it is my wish to number Thomson, Addison, or Metastasio with those who fiourifh by imputed wit. No. II. APPKNDIX. XVij No. II. LA F U R I E. MEGERE. ENTREMETS DE LA TRAGEDIE DE SOPHONISBE. {CEiwres en rime dejean Anto'me de Baif, Secretaire de la Cbambre du Roy, a Paris, M.D.LXXIH. Svo. p. 120.; Oi" ay-je bien raison d'avoir le coeur en joye Moy qui ris des malheurs qu'aux hommes on envoye De nos hidcux manoirs. Sus serpens sur ce chef, Sus sifflez sautelans joyeux de ce mechef : Sus sus flambeaux fumeux en signe de liesse Ta fiammc noire espan pour la grande tristesse Qui tient toute I'Afrique : et sur tout pour les rois Ausquels j'oste I'empire, et leurs braves arrois. Cecy me meine icy, moy hideuse Megere, Qui suis des infernaux sergente et messagere : Car aux tristes enfers le plus de leurs esbas C'est quand quelque malheur je rapporte la bas. Syphax qui penfoit bien d'un plaisant mariagc Recyeiller le doux fruict, de roy mis en servage, c Esclave Xviii APPENDIX. No. II» Esclave est enchaine de pieds de bras et mains. Pour mener en triomphe au plaisir des Remains. Sophonisbe sa femme aujourdhuy s'est donnee (Dessous condition de n'estre point menee Captive dedans Rome) a son plus grand amy Mais qui se doit monstrer son plus grand ennemy. C'est Masinisse roy, qui luy a fait promesse, Qu'il ne pourra tenir, car il faut qu'il la laisse Emmener aux Romains, et de la secourir II n'a plus beau moyen qu'en la faisant mourir r Masinisse aujourdhuy fait a sa mieux aimee Present d'une poison : la poison est humee : Sophonisbe aime moins la vie que I'honneur : L'amy de son amie est fait I'empoisonneur : .Le mary de sa femme. A moy toute la gloire, A moy seule appartient de tant belle victoire : L'honneur en soit a moy, puis que seule j'ay mis Les amis en rancueur au gre des ennemis. Puis que j'ay rebrouille tout le bon-heur et I'aise ■ De ces rois, les tournant en malheur et malaise : Puis qu'en si piteux point seule je les ay mis. Que leur pitie fera pleurer leurs ennemis. Seule de Cupidon seule j'ay fait I'office; De ma rage empllssant Syphax et Masinisse Avec ce flambeau mesme : et seule on m'a peu voir De ce mesme flambeau faire tout le devoir. Ensemble de Junon et du bel Hymenee Le jour que Sophonisbe a Syphax fut menee ; No. II. APPENDIX, 3C\J Car Tun ct I'autre dieu sur moy se reposa A I'heurc que Syphax Sophonisbe espousa. Telle est tousjours la fin de ceux que la furie D'un noeu malencontreux hayneusement marie : Or puis qu'en cet cndroit je voy fait mon vouloir, II faut qu'en autre lieu je me face valloir: J'irois a nos enfers en porter la nouvelle Mais tout ce qui en est il s9auront bien tost d'elle : Parquoy plus d'une part adressgr je me veux, Tousjours en plus d'un lieu Megere fait ses jcux. As Baif usually set his own verses to music, (Bnrney's Hist, of Music, vol. Hi. p. 263J the foregoing entremet was, we may presume, sung to music of his own composition. The drama for which this entremet was written, was a prose translation of the Sofonisba of Trissino, by Mellin de St. Gelai, which was represented before Henry II. at Blois, in 1559. The choruses in this translation, are in verse of various measures, and were sung, probably, to the music of Baif. c 3 No. APPENDIX. No. III. No. IIL On the Origin of Verso Sciolto. THE invention of Italian blank verse has been attributed to Trissino, but, I think, without foundation. We find the productions of Boccaccio, and his contemporaries, sprinkled vi'ith verso sciolti. Even St. Francis, the founder of the order which bears his name, wrote in blank verse. His Cantico del Sole, which appeared in the beginning of the thirteenth cen- tury, is in that measure. The arguments of the Comedia Amicitia of Jacopo Nardi, which was printed, without date, in Florence, and, which, from the doubtful evidence of the stanzas annexed to it, has been referred to the year 1494,, are also in verso sciolto. Indeed it would seem from the following passage in the dedication to the Sofonisba, that blank verse had been known before the time of Trissino, and that he merely adopted that measure, because he deemed it best cal- culated for such productions as are intended to move, or ex- press the workings of, the passions. " Quanto poi al non aver per tutto accordate le rime, non diro altra ragione ; per- cio, ch'io mi persuado, che se a V. B. non spiacera di voler alquanto le orecchie a tal numero accommodarc,c]ie la trovera, e mig- No. Ill, .APPENDIX. xxi e migliore, e piu nobile, e forse men facile ad asseguire di quelle, die per avventura e riputato. E lo vcdera non .sola- mente ne le narrazioni, ed orazioni utili-ssiino, ma nel muo- ver compassione necessario ; perclo chc quel sermone, il quale suol muover questa, nasce dal dolore, cd il dolore manda fiiori non pensate parole, onde la rima, chc pensamentodi- mostra, e veramente a la compassione contraria." Yet Palla Rucellai, in the dedication to his brother's Api, publickly tells Trissino, " voi foste il primo che questo modo di scri- vere in versi materni liberi dalle rime poneste in luce." But if Trissino did not invent this Aibric of verse, he was unquestionably the first who employed it in " longer works." This is admitted by Mafiei, and not denied by any other wri- ter of eminence. Before the time of Trissino, " the jingling sound of like endings," was thought so essentially necessary in every poetical production, that few writers ventured to drop, even occasionally, these musical shackles. " Les pre- miers poetes italiens, a I'exemple des provcn^aux," says the abbe de Sade, " s'assujettirent a cette contrainte. parce qu'elle etoit necessaire dans leur langiie, pour distingucr les vers de la prose. Dante sentit le joug, et n'osa pas le secouer ; s'il n'avoit pas employe la rime, les esprits grossiers de son temps ne Tauroient pas regarde comme poete." But Trissino, with the confidence of true genius, marched boldly on through two long poems, defying, like our Milton, " the trouble- some and modern bondage of riming." In the invocation to •XXI I ArPEN'DIX^ No. III. to his Italia Liberata, he alludes to the new path he has taken : Ch'io mi son posto per novella strada, Non piu calcata da terrene piante. The example set by Trissiuo, was followed by several ori- ginal dramatic and didactic writers, and by some translators of the Greek and Roman classics. But the Ottava Rima is so soothing to the Italian ear, that the epic muse of Italy, has not again ventured to clothe herself in the loose and flowing garb of verso sciolto. I ought not to close this article without observing, that the biographers of Luigi Alamanni, assert his claim to the honor of inventing Italian blank verse. But when they make tliis assertion, they seem to forget, that the first production of Alamanni, in that measure, did not appear till 1532, and that Trissino's Sofonisba, was publickly represented in 1515, and printed in 1524. On turning to that chapter in the Istoria della volgar poesia, which treats of versi sciolti, I find, that the fears of the early Italian poets, were not totally groundless. The Cantico del sole of S. Francis passed down to the time of Crescimbeni, No. III. APPENDIX, xxiii Crescimbeni, as a prose composition, and would probably be considered as such at the present day, if that learned writer had not discovered that, through the ignorance of transcribers, it was poetry in disguise. What happened to the verso sciolto of the holy bard, befel the blank verse of Shakspeare in the hands of his first editors. " Prose from verse they did not know," says Pope ; " and they accordingly printed one for the other throughout the volume." Dr. Johnson praises a critic who observes, that " blank verse seems to be verse only to the eye." But we find, that without the aid of the ear, blank verse may deceive the eye. No. Xxiv APPENDIX, No. IV. No. IV. Description of the House of Trissino near Vicenza. THIS liouse stands in that part of the suburbs of Vicenza, called Cricoli, at the distance of half a mile from the gate of Saint Bartholomew. The flanking towers wear the appear- ance of an age more remote than that of Trissino. But the house is allowed to have been designed by the poet himself, It is supposed that the Sofonisba was finished, and part of the Italia Liberata, written in the tranquillity of this elegant re- treat ; and it may be conjectured, that it was here Trissino instructed Palladio in the rudiments of architecture. Having called in the aid of the pencil (see the frontispiece) to assist me in describing this house, so dear to the muses, I shall only briefly observe, that it consists of two stories, the first of which retires a little, and leaves a space which is occupied by a collonade divided into three arches, and supported by Ionic pilasters, resting on pedestals. A suitable freeze fills up the interval between each story. And pilasters corresponding to those below, adorn the front of the second story, and support, with Corinthian capitals, the roof. Over the entrance is the following inscription, which probably alludes to the literary meetings held here during the occasional residence of Trissino. ACCADEMICA TrISSIN^. LUX ET RuS. Charmed No. IV. APPENDIXV XXV Charmed with this rural retreat. Urban VII, before he was raised to the papal chair, used to pass much of his time here. The apartment which was allotted to him is distinguished by his bust, placed over the door, with the following inscription beneath it : BEATISSIMI URBANI VII. HOSPITIUM. I am sorry I am not prepared to describe the gardens be- longing to this villa, or possessed of a copy of the Greek epi- gram by Trissino, in praise of the little fountain which adorns them. But I must not omit to observe, that Palladio, who afterwards enjoyed the friendship and instruction of Trissino, was almost a boy at the time of the erection of this house, and assisted, on that occasion, in the humble capacity of a scarpellino, or stone-cutter. Two splendid palaces in tlie possession of the descendants of Trissino, still remain in Vicenza. One was designed by Vicenzo Scamozzi, and the other is attributed to Palladio. No. V. XXvi APPENDIX. No. V. No. V. Fra cavalier magnanimi, e cortesi, Risplende il Manso. Gerus. coNPi^Mtti7{. xlvii Quiiul'Iia, clie'n I'ampio fondo Ncl cristallin cle_ Tonda Tialucer niiri ricca arena d'oro. E'i guizzevolc argento Di cento pesci, e cehto ; Qui con note canore Candidi cigiii a lii bell 'onda intorno Fanuo dolcc- soggiorno, E sembran gorghcggiando a I'aura dire ; Entro qucst'acque belle Avvamp^te d'amor nuotan Ic stelle. ; WJ'.'. No. xlviii APPENDIX, No.X. No. X. An Analysis of the Drama, entitled. La Scena Tragica d* Adamo ed Eva ; da Troilo Lancetta, Benacense. Vetutia, 1644. ADVERTISEMENT. I am induced by the extreme rarity of this little drama, and its happy effect on the mind of Milton,- to depart from my original purpose, (see Sect. II.) and to present the reader with an illustrated analysis of the whole piece. As Mr. Hayley's analysis is clear and satisfactory, I shall take the liberty to borrow it, and only blend occasionally with his view of this curious production, such specimens as may serve to give an idea of the authors manner and style. The only passage worth transcription in the address to the reader, has been already given. But of the moral ex- position, a fac simile is exhibited on the opposite page. The dedication to the Duchess of Mantua, abounds with in- cense which has long since lost its odour. So that it only remains to observe, that the work was printed at Venice, in 1644, appresso li Guerigli. The frontispiece consists of the united arms of the houses of Mantua and Gonzaga. And a rude wooden engraving of the deity, standing upon a large globe, and holding a small one in his left hand, adorns the title-page. 5 MORALE No. X. ■ APPENDIX. xlix MORALE tSPOSATlONh. Pdi.iaii>. Habito lU tranqui lifA d'animo. Anjcli Pensieridi concu- pibcenza, et d'ira cnnKonanttaih ra- gione.ctallalcgjje acquistati con rct- ta cdu£atione. Dio • liapionc chc sratu- ihcc da iiuclkticbcn regoluto. Adan:«i Prima figuia luini.in;\ di fanciullii iiuriijito COM libcro arbitriv al bene, et al m.ib^ Porno Core d'Adani(i,arbort di vita, chc laccratx) con fcienza difordi- nata, ct cutitraria allc leggj, priva il mcdc- sinio tlei i'aradis*.' d' ogni btne, ct all' In- ferno delk miTcrle lo trifmctte. Chciubin-j ^Tinistro lii ragionc per la (Jiiistiria. Eva l'arteseiisiialc,chc mal rcgol.tla con- ilucclhuomoncll' Inferno delle dif- Riatic. Si-Tjie Appetite indebito, el irraf;ionevolc, domc- stico d'Eva, u sia del- ta t'-n5nalita. bcnioni Pensieri di con-'up scenza, ct d'ira (iif- crt-pante dalla rag one, ct r'alla legge Inferno Stato irrcparabilc tl'animo ingiusto, rlinfelice. i s THF X APPENDIX. No. X: THE PROLOGUE is merely the argument of the piece, delivered, it may be supposed, in the person of the author, and concluding with an observation on the importance of the subject, and this pious wish, " che questa scena voi tutti, e me insieme riduca a penitenza." ACT THE FIRST. Scene I. God Gommemorates his creation of the heavens, the earth, and the water — determines to make man — gives him vital spirit, and admonishes him to revere his maker, and live innocent. Scene \\. \ Raphael, Michael, Gabriel, and Angels. I Raphael praises the works of God — the other angels follow ihis example, particularly in regard to man. J ! Scene HI. God and Adam. God gives Paradise to Adam to hold as a fief — forbids him to touch the apple. — Adam promises obedience. At the 5 opening No. X. APPENDIX. Xl opening of this scene, God asks Adam his opinion of the new world which he lias created — Adam replies. Dio. Oh' la Adamo dimmi pure, come ti piace Tornamento di questo mondo nuovo ? che cosa vai tu contemplando in- torno a questa tanta machina, ed all'altezza delle stelle col- locate, ed resperse in cielo ; trovi forsi cosa fatta, che non t'aggrada, 6 che ti paia di poco prezzo ? Adamo. Signore a me pare, che tutto cio che voi havete fatto, sia di tutta esquisitezza, ed io in me stesso nc posso esser buon testimonio, perche poco fa vi compiaceste di crearmi senza che lo spirito, che m'havete infuso, havesse cognitione, 6 prescienza alcuna, ch'io fossi per acquistare vita cosi soave in questo mondo, e percio conosco ch'il presente mio stato e tanto piu prestante, e singolare, quanto ch'hora intendo, e conosco voi vero Dio, e Creatore, ed a questa vocatione chiamato, c creato per quest' oggetto, vivero solo a cenno della vostra santa volonta, impercioche, 6 signore, voi m'havete fatto huomo di pura terra. >CENE IV, Adam. Acknowledges the beneficence of God jand retires to repose in the shade. g 2 ACT lii APPENDIX, No. X. ACT THE SECOND. Scene I. God and Adam. God resolves to form a companion for Adam, and does so while Adam is sleeping — he then awakes Adam, and present- ing to him his new associate, blesses them both ; then leaves them, recommending obedience to his commands. Scene II. Adam and Eve. Adam receives Eve as his wife — praises her, and entreats her to join with him in revering and obeying God — she pro- mises submission to his will, and intreats his instruction — he tells her the prohibition, and enlarges on the beauties of Pa- radise in the following words : Passegiaremo alquantoper li confini diquesto belgiardino ; vedi per cortesia quanto d'ogn' intorno e colmo di delitie, se miraste solo la varieta de i colori sparsi sopra tanti liori, che cosa di gratia puo apparire piu bella da vedersi ? Ridono i prati per il bel verde deir herbi ; molti delli al- lori superbi s'ergono all' alto con le frondi, e quelli di loro, aquali cadono le foglie, e i rami, d'aria puro e soave, ci ren- dono grata e placid 'orabra. Acque No. X. APPENiJix. liii Acquc dolci scendono dal strcpilosu fonte iicl seiio d'liu guado di color d'urgento, irrigando con facile dcscenso i prati tutti di grato mormorio, ed inoiidano pur anco i cainpi con pienissimi ruscelli, a grado tale, chc aridi ne si i'aiino, ne per sovcrchia inondatione ofFendono. Senti cola nella selva la nielodia dc lussigiioli, qua iiitorno la fragranza de frutti, die spira giorno, e notte da quest! al- beri, trapassando con soaveodore i nostri sensi. On his speaking of flocks, she desires to see them, and he departs to shew her the various animals. Scene III. Lucifer, Belial, Satan. Lucifer laments his expulsion from heaven, and meditates revenge against man — the other demons relate the cause of their expulsion, and stimulate Lucifer to the revenge he medi- tates — he resolves to employ the serpent, because e molto a proposito per quest' impresa, bello, buono, pieno di benedi- tioni, ed amabile piu d'ogn' altra bestia che viva sopra la terra, e quel ch' importa, Thuomo gode che le sia domestica. Scene IV. The Serpent, Eve, Lticifer. The serpent questions Eve — derides her fear and her obe- dience — tempts her to taste the apple — she expresses her eagerness liV APPENDIX. No. X. eagerness to do so — the serpent exults in the prospect of her perdition — Lucifer (who seems to remain as a separate per- son from the serpent) expresses also his exultation, and steps aside to listen to a dialogue between Adam and Eve. Scene V. Eve, Adam. Eve declares her resolution to taste the apple, and present it to her husband — she tastes it, and expresses unusual hope and animation — she says the serpent has not deceived her — she feels no sign of death, and presents the fruit to her hus- band — he reproves her — she persists in pressing him to eat — he complies — declares the fruit sweet, but begins to tremble at his own nakedness — he repents, and expresses his remorse and terror — Eve proposes to form a covering of leaves — they retire to hide themselves in foliage. ACT THE THIRD. Scene I. Lucifer, Belial, Satan. Lucifer exults in his success, and the other demons applaud him — he proposes celebrating the serpent's victory over the inhabitants of Paradise. <.,. Lucifero. No. X. APPENDIX. Iv Lucifero. Staremo dunque allegri, e ridenti, poiche hab- biamo ottenuto la vittoria, c formaremo il trionfo con la squadra de nostri seguaci, decorata con armi, cantando sempre d'haver vinto rhumana stirpe ; se qiiesta non e grande, e vera allegrczza, quale di meglio potremo sperar mai in alciiii tempo ? Scene II, Raphael, Michael, Gabriel. These good spirits lament the fall, and retire with awe on the appearance of God. Scene III. God, Eve, Adam. God calls on Adam — he appears, and laments his naked- ness — God interrogates him concerning the tree — he confesses his offence, and accuses Eve — she blames the serpent — God pronounces his malediction, and sends them from his pre- sence. Scene IV. Raphael, Eve, and Adam. Raphael bids them depart from Paradise — Adam laments his destiny — Raphael persists in driving them rather harshly from the garden — Adam begs that his innocent children may not suffer for the fault of their mother — Raphael replies, that not IvI APPENDIX. No. X. i}ot only his children, but all his race, must suffer, and con- tinues to drive them from the gardeJi — Adam obeys — Eve laments, but soon comforts Adam — be at length departs, animating himself with the idea, that to an intrepid heart, every region is a home. Scene V. A Cherub, Moralizing on the creation and fall of Adam, concludes the drama and monologue thus : Con questa sola speranza si nodriscono, languenti intanto li tremano le membra, chiuso e I'horto, e di modo guardato, che non vi potranno mai piii mettervi li piedi, poiche e fatto gia loco proprio delli angeli beati, escluso Thuomo per pro- pria col pa : Felice lui se vi si fosse trattenuto senza peccato, di quanto ti sei privato da te stesso oh* pessima creatura : Siatemi veracj testimonij di questo fatto 6 cielo, 6 alberi, 6 monti, o mare, 6 fiumi, 6 fere : forsennato Adamo, che per sola intemperanza ha perduto quel bene, ch' in eterno a pena si ritrova ; Ma questo non e di nostra attinenza, che il gioco si fa contro di lui, e se ne pentira, ma troppo tardi, e la voce publica de poster! maledira sempre cosi gran fallo : questo e giorno da notarsi con penello fosco, o con inchiostro, per esso memorando nella perditione, dell'humana salute. No. No. XI. APPENDIX. Iv!i No. XI. Avvertimenli agli Attori, prcfusi all' Eduigi del Conte Alessandro Pepoli. I. II vcstiario nero all' antica e quelle, che piu convieiie in questa tragedia, si per la serieta del soggetto, come per la maesta dello spettacolo. I pontefici pero per iion essere molto confusi coi nostri sacerdoti devono servirsi d'altri colori, e in tal guisa, che il vestimento loro s'avvicini, non pero totalmente, a qucllo del sacerdoti greci anticlii. Non mi servirei dclla mitra, esscndo troppo caricata, ma piuttosto d'un berrettone quadro di qualche colore, fuorche del nero. II. Odo essendo piu giovinc si puo contrassegnare coUa maggiore oscurita della barba. III. Neir atto secondo la scena del sotteraneo deve essere profonda, e deve esser notte, non per altro, se non perche in tale speziedi luoghi e sempre bujo. Parranno ridicolc queste notizie ; ma per 1 comici sono necessarie. IV. Nella scena terzadell'atto secondo quando viene Elgiva, e s'inginocchia, Eduigi non deve mai sospendere il discorso tra la scena seconda che finisce, e la terza che comincia ; e soltanto deve marcare il passaggio colla vibrazione del " po- vera Elgiva \" V. Nella Iviii APPENDIX. No. XI. V. Nella scena quarta dell'atte secondo non v'e per ambi- due tenerezza che basti. VI. Nella scena prima dell' atto terzo tutte le piccolo in- terrogazioni de' pari, e de' pontefici devono succedersi vibrate; e Dunstano, ed Odo, ma il primo spezialmente, deve portar su la fronte un'aria incessante di mistero, ed Odo nella fine di entusiasmo. VII. Nelle prime scene dell'atto quarto Elgiva deve di- mostrar sempre il piu terribile presentimento. VIII. La scena quarta dell'atto suddetto e la piu impor- tante della tragedia, e tutto il di lei colpo dipende dalla ve- loce esecuzione. Ecco in qual modo in un teatro di prova io I'ho disegnata : Supponendo le stanze d'Eduigi alia destra del paico, e la porta, ove entrano i pontefici alia sinistra, Elgiva nel corso della scena sara alia destra, ora sul sofa assistita da Elfrida alia sinistra, ma un poco indietro, perche tra Elgiva ed i pon- tefici resti libera la scena, ora in piedi con Elfrida, che vjene a rimanere alia sinistra assolutamente fra i pontefici ela regina. Tutte le volte che Dunstano ed Odo tenteranno di rapir la re- gina, passeranno dinanzi ad Elfrida senza difficolta. Nel fine poi, quando si sente la voce d'Eduigi tra le scene a mano destra, e che i pontefici traggono a forza Elgiva con essi, Dunstano afferrera la regina per la destra, che restera sempre rivolta alia parte donde viene lo sposo, e Odo passera per di dietro della regina all' altra mano senz' aflerraria, ma come a impedendola No. XI. Aprr.NDix. Jix impctlendola di fuggire. Quando Dunstaiio diril " la tua -speranza e vaiia," deve essere viciiio ad ej)trarc nclla scena sinistra, ma Elgiva tutta fuori sul ]va!co. Nel mentre che cio segue, Elfrida correra dietro ai ponteiici, e alia regina, velocis- sima essendo a dire " temerarj, cheosate?" Poscia rispinta quand' clla vedc cio che appena potrebbe credere, battcra palma con palma, giuirdando il cielo, e correra in giu, ma sempre dalla sinistra, appoggiandosi al proscenio, se peio questo e ad un giiisto livcllo. IX. Nella scena ultima dell'atto quinto Odo sara veloscis- simo ad arrestare Etelvaldo. Quando poi Eduigi va contro ad Odo, quest' ultimo deve ritirarsi dietro ai soldati in modo, che nell'ultimo momento, ch'egli si e ritirato, guinga Eduigi rispinto, e tosto seguira Odo dicendo : II suo furore D'assalir oserebbe il cielo stesso. Nel tempo de'quali versi Eduigi arrivera (nel fine appunto) ad avere corso alia destra sul fine del palco per poi dir subito : Voi lo spcrate invan, &c. &:c. X. Ouegli stessi soldati, che dovevano rapire il ferro ad Eduigi, verrano a poco a poco dietro a lui ne'tre vers], che dice prima d'uccidersi, affinche lo sostengano quando cade trafitto. Devono pero questi soldati circuirlo in sembianza di poter poi riuscire a disarmarlo. N. B. >.]X APPENDIX. No. XI. N. B. In questa tragedia, dove I'affare del re diventa quello della nazione, mi parve necessaria la di lei voce ne'cori ex- pressa, i quali pcrorimangono totalmente distaccati perche gli stimasse superflui, come cio accederi facilmente nel moderno costume. THINKING the foregoing instructions worthy the imita- tion of every dramatic poet, wlio has a due regard to his fame, I have been induced to give them a place in this Appendix. Mis-conception of character has often occasioned the failure of many a drama of intrinsic merit, on the public stage : se- veral pieces too have suffered from inattention to costume. Count Pepoli's example should therefore be followed : every dramatic writer should,'' like him, accompany his piece with such written directions as he would give if he were present at the rehearsal. Nor should music be forgotten : such airs only should be performed between the acts, as would be likely to promote the delusion by deepening the last impression ; and, during the performance, an occasional symphony should be introduced to aid the intended effect of the poet. Shakspeare and Andreini, both dramatic poets and players by profession, deemed written instructions to the actors, either general or particular, indispensably necessary ; and both have recom- mended the occasional use of appropriate music. No. XII. APPENDIX. Ixi No. XIL Further thoughts on Addison's obligations to the Calone Vticense; with some account of that drama. WHEN I wrote my observations on the Cato of Addison, I Iiad not seen the Venetian opera which he describes; but I am now, througli the friendship of Doctor Burney, (the elegant and profound liistorian of music,) in possession of a copy of that little drama, which, on a careful inspection, has confirmed me in the opinion that I have hazarded in re- gard to the probable origin of the love intrigue in the English tragedy. The view whicli Addison has exhibited of the fable of this opera, is clear and correct; and, from the scru- pulous exactness of his quotations, it would seem, that he wrote with the libretto lying before him. " Ccesar's first Words, says he, " bid his soldiers fly, for the enemies are upon tliem. Si leva Cesare e dice a soldati: A la fugga; a h scampo." The passage stands thus in the libretto. Atto i. Sci'tia 2. Giuliano amlante va da Cefare. SvesjIIati inio si^^iior: Cesai"e: vieiie Vasto diiuvio d' armi Ixii APPENDIX. No. Xlt. A te dal campidogllo: vedi: abbaglia Fiero de i brandi, e incennerisce il lampo. Si leva Cesare, e dice a soldati, CeJ. A la fugga. 5/ levano i soldati. CeJ. 1 Gitil. A la fugga. Sab. ^A' lo scampo. Giul. r Giuliaiio, who takes so active a. part in this scene, is an of- ficer in the service of Caesar, and a character answering to, and, perhaps, the prototype of, the Sempronius of Addison. He is the secret admirer of Sabina, in whose affe6tions he is rivalled by Florus; and, with the treachery which marks the character of Sempronius, he devises means for the de- stru«5lion of his rival. As I do not mean to insinuate that Addison borrowed more than the love intrigue from the Venetian opera, he has himself, by reporting the principal incidents of the fable, re- lated enough for my purpose. But it may gratify the reader to compare the inimitable soliloquy of Cato in the En- glifli tragedy, with the following soliloquy in the Italian opera. After a smart altercation between Scipio and Cato in the library of the latter, Cato seats himself at a table, takes up a Plato, and reads. Scipio retires. AUo •No, XII, APPENDIX. IXin Alio iii. Scejia 12. C ATONE. Solo. Oggi vedra Catone Cesare in Roma? e in braccio Lo vedra di Flaminia? eassentc; il vcggo; AI trionfo d'un barbaro rubello L' alto Roman consiglio? Sorgc: sorge si leva. Torbida nera ecclisse Tutta a coprir di tenebre la terra. Veggo in Roma la terra aprir voraginl Sepeliscono i consoli, e* 1 senato. Chi? dove? chiricovera Catone? Chiudi 6 cimeria notte 3 Quest' occhi miei. Platone : siede, e rilegge. Tii, ch' immortal fai 1' alma, Anche I'eroe fra vivi etcrno vive. E fa d'eroe grand' opra, Poiche inutile al danno ' Parla su i ro'stri, e in su le carte scrlve. Quel cittadin, che fido De la patria al morir non sopravive. Servi .... Ma, a che ricerco QuU chi m'uccida? io di me stesso a un tempo Saro nel sagrificio si leva, e prende vn ferro^ \ % E ia Ixiv APPINBIX. No. XII. . E sacerdote, e vittlma ; Catone, Catone sol dia di Caton esempio, Tuferro suenami; Tvidestra uccidimi; Passarai '1 cor. Mie luce, chiudavi. Mortale orror. Cato then strikes himself with the dagger which he holds in his hand, and the scene which Addison describes, ensues. In the following passage in sc. 14. of the same act, we discover, in a seminal state, the parting scene between Cato and his children in the English tragedy. Catone toll a lavesteagV eccM, si levainpedi, e aperte le braccia, dies. Cat, Impeto cittadino, Augusto genio, madre di Catone, Patria, Roma; mi rendo al voler vostro, Cedo la piaga, e 'I cor che in essa mostro. Luc. Tuo core e il cor di Roma, Cat. Vengano i figli rei. Fanno Flaminia, e Fioro a Catone. In ianto due, Ces. Flaminia. Sab. Floro. a 2. Non errd. Qui si prostrano a fiie di Catone Flaminia^ e Flore. Flo. Padre. Fla, Genitor. a 2. Perdono. Cat. A la patria vi dono. Piangendo. Si kva>to i duojiglioli e vanno per baciargli la dejlra. Inf. No. Xlf. ATPKNDIX. IkV Luc (Eroe degno d' altari.) Caloiie siesa la maiw u Jigli, dice. Cat, E a ben amarla Questo sanguc v' insegni, e questa piaga, Scipione, a Giuliano Che mi suelo la reita de' figli. S' alzl '1 scpolcro. F/a. )■ (Traditor) Cat. Tu porgi F/o. J » Cesare a me di gcnero la destra. Cef. Di genero, e d' amico. Cat, T' abbraccio. Cade languido in bracch di Cesare. This little drama is thus entitled: Catone Uticense. "Dramd per Musica, da recitarsi nel tealro Grimani in S. Cio» Grisostomo, ^i Matteo Noris, I' anno M DCC I. Dedicato all' illustriss, et excelleniiss, Sig. Don Gaetano Cesarini, prencipe di Ge?izano, In Venetia, 1701. per li Niccolini, In an advertisement to the reader, the author acknowledges his departure from history: ** Eccoti la historia ;" says he, " il di piu si finge, esi ti rap- presenta la ferita di Catone, non la morte, perche habbiano luogo gli sponsali di Cesare con Flaminia, e di Floro con Sa- bina." But this is not the only instance in which the author deviates from history: he removes the scene of his fable frora ixvl APPENDIX. No. xir. from Utica to Rome, and alternately lays it in that city and its vicinity. When I only' Icnew the Catone Uticense from the report of Addison, I said that its plot or fable bore a strong resem- blance to that of the Catone of Metastasio. I have since read the drama, and my opinion remains unshaken. HOOSEOf TIUSSIWU DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES. FRONTisriECE. i oRTRAiTand Arms of G. G. Ttissino, from his life, by Pier Filippo CasicUi, f^f,/. 17J3. 4^0. Tin. e-Page. Seal of the Arcadian Academy of Rome. Page t Portrait of Lorenzo dc' Medici, detto il Magnifico, from Tuft! i Trhnfi, Carrimaschtrale, Canii Carnascialeschi, printed, in two volumes 8-^5. in Cosmopoli (Pisa) 17 JO. Pack 8 View of the Villa Madama, near Rome, (See Mem. /. 66.) from a print by Byrne, the original painting by Richard Wilson. Pace 9 Portrait of Gio. Battista Giraldi Cintliio, from a collection of his dramatic works published in Venice, 1583, by his son, Celso. Page 134.... Music of a Chorus in the Oratorio deW Anima e dd Corpo, from the 4th volume of Dr. Burncy's HiJIory ofMufic. Pace 138. . . . The interior ofa theatre, with an aftor delivering the prologue, — spectators in the [lit, — taken from a print on wood in the Antigone of G. P. Trapolini, printed at Padua, 1581. This print may be either supposed to exhibit a view of the interior of a particular theatre, or of the Italian theatre in ge- neral in the sixteenth century. Pace 139. . . • Portrait of Gio. Batista Andreini, author of the ./^t, r. oft. penult, /.of llic Indovino. note {m*)for now it cannot, &c. r. for no traces of it can now, &c. note I. J.yiir introduftion, r. introduiionc. /. I ^. for iiresistably, r. irresistibly. /. 10. for piacuito, r. piaciuto. /, I. Jor prefixes, r. subjoins. /. \o.Jor Madon ', ;. Modonn. noie {e'j I. 3. fr dc tutti, r. di tutti. note [e] I. 1. Jor cosj, r. essa. 3t- Sl- ag- 4'- 4-- 47- 48. J2- 53- 55- 60. 67. 97 98 103^ 106, 109 'e'} I I. ft aboiat, r. tiaborate. 112. /. 5.yi)r Orsilia, r. Orsclia. 128. / i.yi"" ^'emiramidi, r. Scmiramide. 132. note(bjforT^, r. 57. l^T. fur Sect. II r. Jtcr. I. 1 38. note {g)l. 3. del'fullsl p aftir work, and 142. /. I 7, r. as liic tricnd. 144. ndc [k) I. 8. )■• in iGij. 148. /. i7._/i"- Ceba. f. CcLa. 149 /. ig./j' Theatro, ;-. Teatro. J :6. /. 7.yij- mcna, r. incim. I >7. I- 5. /*'' crcatrcd, r. crcated- nole{i'il. 4. for diliii. r. de litt. I<8. nole[v) I. j. r. Bibit-na. 1 ;g. /. to.Jor gcnty, r. gentry. 161. /. i7._/;/r laggcnda, »-. luggendo. i66. n'Je(a)l. 1. for received, r. viewed. J So. /. «!■ dele comma aft' r , ogiii. note {w, I. J. r. l-iLimindo. 188. /. 7./u»'Subjcci, 7. moHcl. Wiiile ilic author wa at Miliin, 1771. t'le f' 190. 19;. 197. 19S. '• 9->''(»590 >■• '■'59!') /. 19. /tir probably, ;'. probable. /. 2. r. Sant' Angclo. ^.for county, r. country, T. for adaption, r. adaptation. ntti (I) I. 13, r. Orazia. /. 13. r. 1 eiiricSir. 16. for possessor, r. professor. 201. )i(i/«(r) r. Antomaria. 213. not- (c) r. p. no. 215. /. ^.for modern patriotism, r. patriotism. 217. /. ^.for. introduced, r. intermixed. 218. note [g] I. 12. r. Pccnulus. 219. /. 10. r. writer's. 223. /. 2. yijr drinks off, r. drinks it off. 224. /. I. _/c'r libratti, r. libretti. 227. /. 13. yi';- great, r. Greek. 231. I. II. r. Sennacherib. note [X) I. 2. r. It is, &c. penult, after pot^a, ftace a full slop. note [s*) I, 7. r. madre. 8.y"-r gratiti, r. graditi. I. 3. after upon it, r. here. /. 22,23. r. VIVENTI, DeCREtO, PuBLICO. note[y)l. iz. for count, r. court. /. 16. r. Zanotti- ncte {c)l. afr E. r. 'E. /. 8 _/i)r this tragedy, »-. the tragedy. /. 2r. r. parricide. penult, for succcd, r. succeed. 258. /. 22. r. Ludovico. 265. antepenult, dele comma after, pallida, &c. place the commaafter luce. 266. /. 4. after hnciul[o,.flace afull stof. 270. /. 8. r. Ascoli. /. 7 1 . the reference to note [0) on page 271, JJioulJ follow Monrose, /. 16. fage 270. note (_u-j) I. 4. r. Manzoli. (ii|l) /. 2. r. Rossana. /. 16. r. Idomeneo. /. 19. r. Phffidrc. note {a) I. z. for, for its, r. to its. /. 7. for eseeuzlone, r. esecutione. note{f)for Inghikaira, r. Inghiltcrra. 282. /. ]8. r. subjects' /. 31, r. d' CEuvre. /. 5. r. a full stop after iuh'^tct. note (II /. I. r. Giuochi. /. 4. for the question, r. this question. note (2) penult, place a full slop afta timCi / 12. r. toscana. /. 7. r. ita. ■33- ■35- 36- 241, 242, 244. 246, 249, 2.^3 5; 272. 274 280, £6. 291. 293- 2y4. 29W 297. APPENDI.K. /. I. r. confidante. /. tiird J romtle penult, place a commaafter, casa. /. iz.jor, Is it now, r. It is not now. /. 6. Jor verso, r. versf. 1. 11 Jor (sec frontispieccj r. (sec tail-piece to tnc Appendix) penu.t for Accademica, r. .Vcademioc. /. 22. r. piospcrar. /. i.yi?/- puo r. pcro. ,. i./u' lixposaiione, r, Expositione. lii. last l.Hc bat tcoo.for allori, r. albori. picpaiiiig this Hrrata, he discovered m an tuition of Kayin's liibiiot. }tal, printed lowing woi'its by 'J'liiih' I.aiicciti (see Hist. Mem. on lial. Tra^. p.i73).— X 1. \s. xxiv. .slii. .liii. \'.ix. Diiciplina iii-i e di Ptatooe, divisa in qualtrj fa'ti, e rijonnatit. Delta Pcste de'Jinti, c degti Uomini, I en. j6ja. in Jot. I en. pel. Cutiigli, 16-1.3, "'f'l- ^4SjmI msa 3 1 58 00580 0403 D 000 000 966 2 1- .■,•■ 1 1 '■■J- ,' 1! m '«( m mm m HIiiil ill iitiiUiilii: U L