Autobiography 
 
 EDI TED 
 
 W.D.Howells 
 
 Carlo 
 
 GOLDONI
 
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 Now Appearing, Regularly. 
 
 CHOICE AUTOBIOGRAPHIES. 
 
 EDITED BY WILLIAM D. HOWELLS. 
 
 " Little Classic " Style. - - - $ 1.25 a volume. 
 
 This series of the best autobiographies is prepared especially 
 for general reading. Each life is prefaced with a critical and 
 biographical essay by Mr. Howells, in which the sequel of the 
 author's history is given, together with collateral matter from 
 other sources, illustrative of his period and career. In some 
 cases the autobiographies are reduced in bulk by the rejection 
 of uninteresting and objectionable matter. It is designed to 
 include in the series the famous autobiographies of all lan- 
 guages, and to offer in a compact and desirable edition all that 
 is best in this most charming of all literature. 
 
 JAMES B. OSGOOD & CO., Publishers, Boston.
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 C A R L (G O'L D O N 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCIÏ, 
 BY JOHN BLACK. 
 
 WITH AN ESSAY 
 By WILLIAM D. HOWELLS. 
 
 BOS TO 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY, 
 
 Late Ticknor & Fields, and Fields, Osgood. & Co. 
 1877.
 
 COPYRIGHT. 
 
 . D. HOWELLS. 
 
 1877. 
 
 University Press : Welch, Bigelow, & Co., 
 Cambridge.
 
 CARLO GOLDONI 
 
 FTER Oliver Goldsmith, I do not know any 
 figure in the history of literature that should 
 take the geutle reader's liking more than the 
 
 These two charming writers are not unlike in certain 
 particulars of their lives. They were both children of 
 that easy-going eighteenth century, of the period before 
 its griefs began with the French Revolution, and as 
 Irishman and Venetian they might very naturally have 
 been allied in temperament; the American traveller is 
 nowhere more vividly reminded of a certain class of 
 adoptive fellow-citizens than in Venice. Moreover, 
 they had both the vagabondizing instinct, and were 
 aesthetic wanderers, Goldsmith all over Europe, and 
 Gfôldonî up and down Italy, to die after many years 
 of self-exile in France. They were alike in their half 
 education for the medical profession, and alike in 
 abandoning that respectable science for the groves of 
 Aca deme, not to say Bohemia; Goldoni, indeed, left 
 the law and several other useful and grave employ- 
 ments for those shades, which are not haunts of 
 flowery ease, after all. But these authors are even
 
 6 CARLO GOLDONI. 
 
 more alike in certain engaging qualities of mind than 
 in their external circumstances. If the English essay- 
 ist was vastly higher in the theory than in the conduct 
 of life, poor Goldoni had his mural ideas, too, and tried 
 to teach in his comedies purity, good faith, and other 
 virtues which were foolishness tu most of the world "by 
 whose favor he must live. He resembled Goldsmith in 
 the amiability of his satire, the exquisite naturalness 
 of his characterization, the simplicity of his literary 
 motive ; but he was no poet, though a genius, and he 
 falls below Goldsmith in this rather than in respect 
 of the morality he taught. 
 
 Perhaps Dr. Goldsmith would have been but little 
 pleased to be compared with the A'enetian dramatist, 
 if the comparison had been made in his lifetime, for if 
 he ever heard of Goldoni at all, it must have been in 
 scornful terms from that Joseph Barretti who dwelt in 
 London and consorted with Doctor Johnson, and had 
 wielded upon his Italian brethren a Frusta Letteraria, 
 or Literary Lash (as he called his ferocious critical 
 papers), that drew blood: Barretti despised Goldoni 
 for a farceur of low degree, not being able to see the 
 truth and power of his comedies, and used to speak of 
 him as " one Charles Goldoni." Nevertheless, if the 
 Venetian could have brought himself to leave the de- 
 lights of Paris long enough to pay that visit to Lon- 
 don which the Italian operatic company once desired 
 of him, he might have met Goldsmith; and then I am 
 sure that the founder and master of the natural school 
 of English fiction would have liked the inventor of 
 realistic Italian comedy. At any rate Goldoni would 
 have liked Goldsmith. The Spectator was the fashion 
 at Venice as well as at London in Groldoni's day: it 
 had formed the taste for the kind of writing in which
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 7 
 
 Goldsmith excelled, and The Citizen of the World 
 would have found an intelligent admirer in a man who 
 helplessly knew as much of the world as himself. 
 
 I wish with all my heart that these amiable au- 
 thors were alike in having both written their memoirs. 
 What a treasure would not the autobiography of Gold- 
 smith be, written with the fulness and frankness of 
 Goldoni's ! What would we not give for such a pic- 
 ture of London life as Goldoni paints of Venetian life 
 in the first half of the last century ! I fancy the his- 
 tory of Goldsmith written by himself with the same 
 gentleness and forgiving mildness and humorous self- 
 satire as Goldoni's ; more of these qualities it could not 
 have ; and I doubt if in the whole range of autobiog- 
 raphy one can find anything of a cheerfuller sweetness. 
 I have personally to be glad that his memoirs was one 
 of the first books which fell into my hands when I went 
 to live in Venice, and that I read it together with his 
 comedies, so that the romantic city became early hu- 
 manized tome through the life and labors of the kindly 
 dramatist. The " large and beautiful house " in which 
 Goldoni says he was born, between the bridges of the 
 Knuckle-bone and the Honest Woman (the Venetian 
 street nomenclature is much of it deliciously quaint), 
 is still shown to strangers; and I have no doubt but 
 at Chiozza, where much of his boyhood was passed, 
 they could find you, for a very small sum, many palaces 
 in which he lived. At any rate, when you visit that 
 smaller and forlorner Venice, twenty-five miles away 
 in the lagoons, you cannot have a pleasauter associa- 
 tion with it than the dramatist's memory. Goldoni 
 will tell you that he was always returning to Chiozza 
 from whatever misadventure he met with elsewhere, 
 until he finally fled the lagoons to escape marriage
 
 8 CARLO GOLDOXI. 
 
 with a young lady of that city to whom he had inad- 
 vertently betrothed himself. It was here that his 
 mother remained, while his father tried to establish 
 himself, at this city and that, in his profession of phy- 
 sician, and vainly placed his son at one school and 
 another, and was always on the point of making his 
 fortune. They were of a gay, improvident Modenese 
 race, and from the time when Goldoni's grandfather 
 came to Venice and outshone all the patricians in the 
 wasteful splendor of his villa on the Brenta, to the very 
 last year of the dramatist's life amid the early days of 
 the French Revolution, his career seems to have been 
 providentially enriched by every strange experience 
 that could fit into the hand of a comic author. What 
 better fortune for a man destined to write comedy than 
 that he should run away from school at Rimini, and 
 come back by sea with a company of strolling players 
 in their bark to Chiozza ; or that from the college of 
 Pavia, where his father afterwards placed him. he 
 should be expelled f< it writing a lampoon on the princi- 
 pal families of the city? He tells us how he was in- 
 stantly smitten with shame and remorse, and sixty years 
 later, when he writes his memoirs, he is still on his 
 knees to such of the good people as have so long sur- 
 vived the wrong he did them. But in the mean time 
 there was that Dominican friar who accompanied him 
 home, — that friar who confessed him and took all his 
 little money from him in penance, and then fell asleep 
 amidst the tale of his remaining sins : a friar forever 
 precious to the imagination ! And there was the pic- 
 turesque and melodramatic family dismay when he 
 reached home: his father's wrath, his mother's tears! 
 It is all like a chapter of Gil Bias. 
 
 Goldoni was still very young, and lie had a very
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. V 
 
 good heart ; he had been cajoled into his satire by 
 some malicious fellow-students^ and the lesson that 
 humanity is above literature came to'him mercifully 
 early. He was thereafter the founder of a school that 
 ennobled satire by dispersonalizing it. As regarded 
 his dramatic career, his expulsion from college was an 
 advantage. It made him the companion of his father 
 in his medical practice at Chiozza, where he saw 
 a strange and instructive side of life ; and later he was 
 his father's fellow-traveller on a journey into Germany 
 and a long sojourn in the Friuli, where he constantly 
 enriched himself with curious experiences, whatever 
 were his fathers gains. 
 
 There must have heen large numbers of Italians in 
 the eighteenth century who did not enjoy themselves, 
 but wherever you find them in memoirs they seem to 
 be having the best of times : eating, drinking, singing, 
 gaming, masking, making love right and left ; there 
 is apparently no end to their pleasures. This is the 
 impression of Italian life that remains in one's mind 
 from Groldoni's recollections of his light-hearted youth. 
 They have theatricals in all the houses where he vis- 
 its ; and he who began manager in his childhood with 
 a puppet-show is naturally turned to dramatic account 
 in those cheerful palaces. Wherever he goes, now 
 with his father, or later, when lie passes from one city 
 to another on his own changing occasions, lie has 
 nothing to do but to amuse and to be amused. If it is 
 in the Venetian dependencies, Ik- calls upon the patri- 
 cian governor, and stays at least two weeks witli him ; 
 if it is in distant countries like Milan or Modena or 
 Parma, he is the guest of tie- Serenest Republic's en- 
 voy, — an envoy with no more to do than an Amer- 
 ican minister, except to be gay, to be profuse, to be
 
 10 CAELO GOLDONI. 
 
 elegant, to ornament society, and to patronize the 
 bowing and obsequious arts. What a charming epoch ! 
 Life is everywhere a party of pleasure. There is a cer- 
 tain journey of Goldoni's (in one of his college vaca- 
 tions), down the Po and over the lagoon to Chiozza, 
 which strikes one even at this distance of time and 
 space with intolerable envy : ten young gentlemen and 
 their servants, in a luxuriously appointed barge, drift- 
 ing idly down the current, and nowise concerned about 
 arriving anywhere. They all, save Goldoni, play 
 upon some instrument, and he, who cannot play, can 
 rhyme the incidents of the voyage. The peasants for- 
 sake their fields and flocks as the happy voyagers pass, 
 and crowd the banks of the stream; when the en- 
 chanted barge halts at night near some town the citi- 
 zens throng it with invitations to every sort of gayety; 
 the nobles from their villas send hospitably to arrest 
 the wanderers ; it is a long progress of delight, under 
 skies forever blue, among shores forever green. All, 
 to have been young and rich and well-born in that day ! 
 Or to have been a Venetian office-holder in times 
 when the government was the affair of the rich and 
 amiable patrician families who had the taste to choose 
 such friends as young Goldoni, and to make their 
 work agreeable to them! The reader must go to his 
 autobiography for the account of the prolonged picnic 
 of young gentlemen and ladies who followed the chan- 
 cellor's coadjutor Goldoni into the woods of Felt re to 
 stay the depredations upon the government timber. 
 The expedition proved almost fatal to Goldoni's peace ; 
 for he tells you how he fell in love with one of the 
 young ladies, and how "curiously" he reasoned him- 
 self out of the imprudence of making her his wife by 
 considering, Italian-like, that if the fatigues of the
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 11 
 
 journey had so great effect upon her, she would fade 
 and age early, and so leave him to despair ! 
 
 It is hard to realize that all this junketing goes on 
 amidst pretty continual fighting. Spaniards and Aus- 
 trians and Frenchmen are always down there in Italy 
 cutting one another's throats, and every now and then 
 interrupting with a siege or a battle the Italian party 
 of pleasure. The Italians take the interruption as 
 philosophically as they can, and as soon as the dead 
 are buried and the fires put out go on with their amuse- 
 ments as before. Of course a man predestined to write 
 comedy must often be taken at a disadvantage by 
 these wars, and Gold, mi's memoirs owe some of their 
 most entertaining chapters to his misadventures among 
 combatants with whom personally and nationally he 
 was at peace. The republic of Venice had long main- 
 tained her neutrality (though her territory was violated 
 at will by the belligerents) amidst the ever-renewed 
 hostilities of the barbarians who fought out their quar- 
 rels on Italian ground, and she did not meddle with 
 that brief war which the Cardinal Fleury and the Em- 
 peror Charles VI. set going between them about the 
 Pragmatic Sanction and the election of the Polish 
 king in 1729. It all resulted in the succession of Maria 
 Theresa to the Imperial throne, in the establish- 
 ment of the Spanish Bourbons in Naples, and the 
 house of Lorraine in Tuscany; but in the mean time 
 Groldoni, being a Venetian, had not even the tempered 
 interest in the war of those Italians whom its event 
 was to give this master or that. One fine morning, 
 being now attached to the Venetian embassy in Milan, 
 he is roused by his servant with the news that the city 
 is in the hands of the Sardinians, who have joined the 
 French and Spanish side. This is annoying to a gen-
 
 12 CARLO GOLDONI. 
 
 tleman who has already so far entered upon a literary 
 career as to have written an unsuccessful opera (there 
 is nothing more Gil-Blas-like than his account of how 
 the singers laugh it to scorn), but Goldoni is above 
 everything cheerful, and he retires uncomplainingly 
 with the embassy to Crema, to be out of the way of 
 the bombardment of the Milanese citadel; and from 
 Crema he shortly afterwards goes to Parma, where, 
 standing on the city wall, he witnesses the once famous 
 battle of that name. The next day he sees the dead, 
 twenty thousand men, stripped naked over night, and 
 strewn in infinite shapes of mutilation and horror over 
 the field ; and, having by this time resigned his office 
 under the Venetian envoy, he gladly quits Parma for 
 the territories of the republic. 
 
 Never were misfortunes more blithely narrated than 
 those which beset him on this journey. He is first of 
 all things an author, aud you shall read in his memoirs 
 how, amidst these scenes of violence and carnage, he 
 has been industriously contriving a play: his Belisa- 
 rius, which he carries with him in his pocket, and 
 which he reads aWd to his travelling companion, a 
 young abbé of literary taste, as they drive along in 
 their carriage through a country infested by camp fol- 
 lowers, deserters from either host, and desperadoes of 
 every sort. Suddenly brigands appear, and stop at once 
 the carriage and the reading of Belisarius ; the liter- 
 ary gentlemen are glad to escape with their lives. 
 Towards nightfall Goldoni encounters some kindly 
 peasants at work in the field ; they take pity on him, 
 give him to eat and drink", and bring him to their good 
 curé in the village. The curé is a man of culture; 
 Goldoni mentions his play, the curé makes him a little 
 dinner, and he reads his blessed Belisarius (which has
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 13 
 
 remained safe from the rapacity of the brigands) to his 
 host and two other applausive abbés! What is ad- 
 versity after all, then ? A matter of individual tem- 
 perament, of race ? 
 
 Goldoni repairs to Venice, and he does not again 
 quit that soft and safe retreat for ten years, during 
 which he establishes his fame. But at the end of that 
 time, his destiny takes him into the fighting once more; 
 his old friends, the Frenchmen, the Sardinians, the 
 Spaniards, the Austrians, are all at it as usual. They 
 are all civil to the pleasant dramatist, however, and 
 treat him handsomely when he gets into trouble, and 
 he duly turns his adventures to account in comedy, with 
 unfailing enjoyment of their absurdity. 
 
 Goldoni, indeed, would not have been the cunning 
 worker in human nature that he was, if he had not 
 seen his own errors and their consequences with an 
 impartial eye. Somewhere in his comedies you will 
 find every one of them used, with more or less dis- 
 guise, — usually less. He knew quite well that he was 
 himself an amusing character, but for all that he recog- 
 nized his serious obligations to the race, and he kept a 
 much livelier conscience, literary and moral, than most 
 people of his world. Certain things, as gaming and 
 intriguing, he was forced practically to blink in himself 
 as well as others, such being the fashion of his age; 
 but he wrote comedies in which the career of the gam- 
 bler was painted in its true odors, and he helped ridi- 
 cule the cavalier servent out of existence. He seem- 
 to have been tenderly attached to his wife, who returned 
 his love with interest; in a society devoured by debts 
 he abhorred debt, and amidst envies, baekbitings, and 
 jealousies of every kind he kept a heart uncorroded by 
 hatred and full of generous friendship.
 
 14 CARLO GOLDONL 
 
 He was curiously limited in his satirical scope. In 
 Venice he could not paint a dissolute or wicked noble, 
 or indeed put upon the stage a Venetian noble of any 
 sort; his nobles, therefore, were ostensibly of the in- 
 ferior, titled sort from the mainland. He might not so 
 much as name a convent in comedy ; any young lady 
 immured in a nunnery must be mentioned as being u at 
 the house of an aunt," and of course the vices and follies 
 of the clergy were sacred from his touch. He drew his 
 characters from the citizen class chiefly, but often with 
 great effect from the lowest of the people. Within the 
 bounds set him he painted the Venice of his time so 
 gracefully, so vividly, so truly, with so much more of. 
 the local human nature than of the mere manners of the 
 age, that his plays mirror in wonderful degree the Venice 
 of our own day. 
 
 Xo author ever wrote more purposely and directly 
 for the theatre than Goldoni ; in this, at least, be was 
 Shakespearian. He may be said to have always known 
 the stage ; his acquaintance with players began when 
 he ran away from school with the strollers from Rimini, 
 and it continued all his life. When he began seriously 
 to write comedy it was for a company of which he actu- 
 ally formed a part, and he studied his actors and kept 
 them as constantly in view as the persons of his drama. 
 His observation was from the world at large ; when he 
 had discovered or imagined a character he trained his 
 players to his own conception of it. Often he wrote a 
 part especially for some comedian; sometimes lie por- 
 trayed the characters of his actors in the play, and he 
 knew how to avenge himself for their obstinacies, ca- 
 prices, and jealousies by good-natured satire of their 
 recognizable qualities. 
 
 His material lay in himself and everywhere about
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 15 
 
 him in the Venice which he knew so well. There his 
 genius seemed to prosper most ; although, he wrote 
 brilliant plays elsewhere, and lived to give the French 
 stage a comedy that had a prompt and (as those things 
 go) enduring success, Venice was the scene of his 
 greatest triumphs, There for many years he continued 
 to produce one play after another with almost uninter- 
 rupted good fortune, while elsewhere his inspiration 
 was fitful and uncertain. The best of his hundred and 
 fifty comedies are those in the soft speech of the lagoons ; 
 the next best are those Italian plays of which the scene 
 is laid in Venice. 
 
 They are simple affairs as to plot, but their move- 
 ment is very spirited. The dialogue is always brisk, 
 with a droll, natural, sarcastic humor in it that smacks 
 of the popular life; it is rarely witty, —perhaps there 
 is not a memorably witty passage m all his plays ; 
 there is no eloquence, and not often anything like 
 pathos, though now and then amidst the prevailing- 
 good spirits of his comedy there are touches of real 
 tenderness. His art is extremely good ; the plays are 
 well contrived. There are few long speeches; the 
 soliloquies and the asides are few ; there are seldom 
 explanations or narrative statements ; the sympathetic 
 spectator is briefly possessed of the situation by the 
 dialogue; the rest is left to his patience, which is 
 never heavily taxed, and to his curiosity, which is duly 
 piqued. I find the same sort of pleasure in reading 
 Groldoni's comedies as in seeing them played; though 
 in reading, the baldness of the morality is, of course, 
 more apparent. One ought not to smile at this mo- 
 rality, however, without remembering the aire, the 
 religion, and the race to which it was addressed: to 
 these some very elementary principles might have 
 seemed novel.
 
 16 CABLO GOLDONI. 
 
 I do not know how often Molière is still played in 
 France, but in Italy, and especially in Venice, Guidon i 
 has his regular seasons, and holds his place upon the 
 stage as firmly as Shakespeare, with whom he is not 
 otherwise comparable : he was, as I have said, no poet. 
 All his countrymen are agreed as to the vast, the 
 unique value of his theatre in their literature. " To 
 say Goldoni is to say Italian comedy," writes Torelli 
 in a paper on the dramatist in his Passaggi e Profili. 
 "The severe critic who, in speaking of the gifts of this 
 famous man, would hold him to strict account for his 
 many defects cannot dispute the common voice which has 
 pronounced the Venetian humorist the father and the re- 
 storer of comedy. Goldoni, like all illustrious authors, has 
 had his impassioned detractors, his impassioned apolo- 
 gists : they have fought over his fame, for and against ; 
 they have discussed the marvellous subtlety of his dia- 
 logue and the poverty of his diction. But the true judges 
 of Goldoni were not the detractors, nor the 'apologists, 
 nor the commentators, nor the libellers ; his true judges 
 were the people in the pit, the spectators surprised by the 
 truth of the characters which he had studied from life, 
 and struck by the aptness of the sallies and replies, 
 which they had felt stirring in their own minds before 
 the persons of the play had uttered them. The worth 
 of Goldoni consists in the material truth, so to speak, 
 of his action, apparently expressed as it comes to hand, 
 but really sought out witli study and artifice." The 
 praise of Emiliani-Giudici is as cordial and as just, if 
 not so subtile: " Xo one painted better than he the 
 life that served him for a model, taught morality with 
 urbaner satire, invented dramatic situations with greater 
 art, showed greater fertility. C'esarott.i, a fervent ad- 
 mirer of French literature, compares him to "Molière,
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 17 
 
 and declares that if Goldoni had had more leisure for 
 study, and could have meditated arid finished his pro- 
 ductions with more affectionate care, he might have 
 boasted a greater number of masterpieces, and have 
 
 been the first comic dramatist of the world Gol- 
 
 doni himself laments the fate that forced him to work 
 at such a breakneck rate. In one year he promised 
 and composed sixteen comédies. Nearly all his pro- 
 ductions, therefore, lack that final touch by which a 
 writer frees his work from the inevitable redundancies 
 of the first sketch, gives the material greater signifi- 
 cance, balances the larger and the lesser parts, and 
 achieves for it beauty and symmetry as a -whole." I 
 am bound to say that I have not myself felt in Goldoni 
 that want of finish here deplored, except a certain ten- 
 dency to tameness and coldness in the conclusion of 
 some of his plays. Neither should I agree with Cantù 
 in much of the censure which he mingles with his 
 praise: "Full of that spirit of observation and imi- 
 tation which seizes and portrays life, he reveals char- 
 acter, not in phrases and reflections, but in situations 
 an I in contrasts; and not character strained and exag- 
 gerated, but mixed and average as we see it in society. 
 He obeys his own knowledge of life rather than the re- 
 quirements of art, but his observation was limited to 
 
 the lower classes, whence he drew trivial persons 
 
 Gondoliers, servants, dancers, parasites, adventurers, 
 cicisbei, usurers, misers, husbands and wives of the pop-* 
 ulace, he depicts with marvellous fidelity, .... but 
 not the patricians in their refined corruption, nothing 
 that ennobles sentiment or elevates the mind. He 
 neglected his diction, and when he did not use his 
 native dialect he fell into an incorrect, common, and 
 pleading-lawyer's Italian ; he sins in useless scenes.
 
 18 CARLO GOLDONI. 
 
 prolix discourses, scurrilous allusions ; yet no one sur- 
 passes him in the management of dialogue, in the 
 naturalness of his characters, in the simplicity of his 
 style!" 
 
 One can hardly blame Goldoni for not embroiling 
 himself with the government by attacking the Venetian 
 nobles, and if he preferred to paint the common life 
 about him he was right to do so ; in matters of art one 
 must do what one likes if one would do well. As for 
 the style, it is so much better to be graphie and simple 
 than to be irreproachable that even the Italian world, 
 which really suffer:- from an inelegance of speech, easily 
 forgives Goldoni's negligent diction; the f< ireigrier does 
 not feel it. To elevate the mind or ennoble the senti- 
 ments is not quite the comic dramatist's business; on 
 the other hand, Goldoni never pandered to a vicious 
 taste, in morals or aesthetics. His comedies are pure 
 in surprising degree when one 'thinks of the contempo- 
 rary English stage and romance: they may be read, for 
 the most part, with as little offence as so many novels 
 of Dickens. Now and then he girds himself up to 
 attack some social abuse, like the eicisbeo system, by 
 which every fashionable wife had her conventional 
 adorer, recognized in that quality by the world and tol- 
 erated by the husband. It was a silly usage, but not 
 so often wicked as might be thought. Parini's satire 
 lashed the poor cicisbei in Lombardy, while Goldoni 
 laughed at them in Venice : but it must have cost the 
 dramatist more to be virtuous against them, for he was 
 a social creature, liking best to please every one, and 
 fond of the gay and fine world. He gently complains 
 of the enmities his ridicule of the cicisbei excited against 
 him. 
 
 The reader of his memoirs will be interested and
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 19 
 
 perhaps amused to find Goldoni defending the Prot- 
 estants from the insult offered them in a dramatic 
 lampoon upon himself, and actually procuring its sup- 
 pression on the ground of its offensiveness to the am- 
 bassadors of many friendly powers resident in Venice, 
 where indeed foreign Protestantism had eujoyed perfect 
 immunity ever since the times of Luther. But it is 
 really not fair to judge this sweet and kindly spirit as a 
 moralist or a reformer of any sort e.xcept in his own 
 proper world of comedy. Here he was bold, strenuous, 
 and untiring, and he succeeded in firmly establishing 
 the Italian comic drama against the popular taste and 
 the power of the vested interests. 
 
 Of course there were Italians who wrote true comedy 
 before Goldoni: there were Ariosto and Machiavelli, t<> 
 name no others, but their plays were not played, and 
 there was no body of national comedy at all answering 
 to that of the French or English. There were imita - 
 t< >rs of the French and imitators of the Spanish school 
 of comedy, and there was a sort of comic spectacle, full 
 of supernatural prodigies and fanciful extravagances, 
 which was in high favor. But the national spirit found 
 expression chiefly in the so-called comedy of art, which 
 had the strongest hold upon the popular affection ; and 
 Goldoni supplanted this by the sort of conquest which 
 seems to compromise and even to concede; with the 
 French and Spanish schools, with the spectacular 
 drama, he never pretended to make terms. 
 
 The comedy of art was simply the outline of an 
 action supplied to the players. The characters in 
 every plot were drawn from the same stock: Panta- 
 lone ; Arlecchino, Brighella, Truffaldino, II Dottore, 
 Colombina, Corallina, and other inferio r masks, and 
 the dialogue was the inspiration of tUe actors; it was
 
 20 CARLO GOLDOXI. 
 
 very good or very bad according to their ability, and it 
 could not have been possible to a race with less genius 
 for improvisation than the Italians. Some of these 
 masks were of vast antiquity, like Pantaloon and 
 Harlequin ; the others dated back three or four centu- 
 ries. Arlecchino, Brighella, Truffaldino, Corallina, 
 and Colombina are always servants or people of low 
 degree ; they have severally their conventional traits 
 of slyness and stupidity, as immutable as the dresses 
 or masks in which they appear. Arlecchino and Bri- 
 ghella are by immemorial attribution natives of Ber- 
 gamo, and speak the quaint dialect of their city ; they 
 are both rogues, but the former is usually the prey 
 of the latter. Colombina and Corallina are equally 
 wicked jades, and are almost convertible characters. 
 They " know the defects of women in general, and of 
 their mistress in particular. Colombina or Corallina, 
 whichever it is, is from eighteen to twenty-five years 
 of age. She is pretty just short of wounding the van- 
 ity of her mistress ; she knows by heart the swoons, 
 vapors, caprices, tastes, of the lady whom she has the 
 advantage to serve. When she comes into her cham- 
 ber in the morning and hears the call, 'My dear Co- 
 lombina ! ' she instantly foresees a day of convulsive 
 attacks, emotional prostration, of tears, and of confi- 
 dences. If the lady is old, Corallina makes fun of her 
 behind her back, and flatters her to her face ; tells the 
 whole neighborhood of her artificial pretences, her un- 
 speakable follies. If she is young, she aids her with 
 embassies, with advice ; or else — and then the case is 
 terrible — she opposes her in everything, and makes 
 her really unhappy." 
 
 Pantalone dei Bisognosi is always a Venetian mer- 
 the dress and the Ions; beard of his
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 21 
 
 class and city in the Middle Ages. He is true, just, 
 punctiliously honest : a wise head and a soft heart : 
 usually his son is a reproba te, and costs him much 
 anxiety and money before he turns from his evil ways 
 at the end of the comedy. 
 
 II Do ttore Bacche ttone is of the learned city of 
 Bergamo; he is dressed in black, and lias a great wine 
 stain on his face. Generally it is his business in the 
 Goldonian comedy to be the friend and correspondent 
 of Pantalone, and the father of the lover or heroine of 
 the play. 
 
 Goldoni wrote some hundred and fifty comedies, and 
 in quite half of them? I think, these standard charac- 
 ters appear. Every company had actors and actn 
 identified with the parts, and it was the dramatist's 
 difficult task to preserve enoiïgu" of the traditional to 
 keep them recognizably the same, while constantly in- 
 flecting and varying them to give novelty to the action 
 and meet the exigency of the plot He was obliged 
 to adopt the masks while supplying a complete play 
 instead of the outline of the comedy of art, which he 
 was seeking to supplant in the popular affections. 
 His success was sL>w and fitful. From time to time 
 he was Ibrced to give his players outlines; even so 
 late as his sojourn in Paris, we find him supplying 
 these skeleton dramas to the Italian company with 
 which he was connected. But without doubt it was 
 Goldoni who extinguishe d the comedy of art, and 
 created for the Italians not only a real comedy, hut the 
 taste to enjoy it, though the impulse in that direction 
 had been given from time to time long before his day, 
 and once by tin- good San Carlo Borroineo, — a saint 
 who scarcely needed canonization. ''One Flaminio 
 Scala/' writes Torelli, '"head of a company of play-
 
 22 CARLO GOLDOXI. 
 
 ers, following the example of the ancient art, began to 
 give his pieces unity and form ; he began to write out 
 notes and take them into the theatre, showing the plot 
 of the action, and explaining what each actor should 
 do upon the scene, the idea by which he should be 
 guided in improvising, and of what nature the buf- 
 fooneries of Harlequin should he. Scala was praised 
 to the skies, and proclaimed illustrious by all Milan. 
 The times were rather shameless: this brave com- 
 pany, seeing themselves every day higher in favor 
 with the Milanese, loosed the rein of modesty, and let 
 their tongues wag at will. San Carlo Borromeo 
 called them before him, and, having thoroughly re- 
 buked them all, especially Harlequin, forbade them to 
 play anything more without first submitting the action 
 to the censorship. ' But if we should happen to im- 
 provise something!' cried Scala, meekly. 'Write out 
 the play first, and you will avoid that,' replied the 
 archbishop. And perhaps from this point began the 
 abolition of the comedy of art, and the regular comedy 
 had more studious followers." 
 
 Nevertheless, the honor is Goldoni's of having cre- 
 ated the regular comedy without lo.sing the charm of 
 the old, for there is a very great charm in the constant 
 recurrence of the familiar faces of Pantalone, Arlec- 
 chino, Brighella, TrufFaldino, Colombina, and Coral- 
 lina in the perpetually varied action and circumstance 
 of his plays. When oner you have entered into their 
 spirit, it is delightful to find that the lover is always 
 Florindo, and that his mistress is always Eosaura ; it 
 is like meeting those people whom some novelists 
 have the fancy of making reappear tnrough all their 
 fictions, and there is a sort of convenience in it for the 
 lazy imagination. I do not mean to say that all of
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 23 
 
 Goldoni's comedies are restricted in their range of 
 character to these personages; great hampers of them 
 entirely depart from the tradition which- these keep in 
 view; but I own that I like host those w hich follow 
 the old comedy of art in respect to their dramatis per- 
 sonœ, though I must own also that I do not quite 
 know why. 
 
 Goethe, writing from Venice in 1786, describes the 
 performance of one of the best of the Gkridoniah come- 
 dies dealing with the popular life, — a comedy which 
 is still sure to be played at least once every winter in 
 Venice : — 
 
 •• Yesterday, at the theatre of St. Luke, was per- 
 formed Le Bàruffe-Chiozotte, which I should interpret 
 the Frays and Feuds of Chiozza. The dramatis per- 
 sona are principally seafaring people, inhabitants of 
 Chiozza, with their wives, sisters, and daughters. The 
 usual noisy démonstratif »ns of such sort of people in 
 their good or ill luck, — their dealings one with an- 
 other, their vehemence, but goodness of heart, common- 
 place remarks and unaffected manners, their naïve wit 
 and humor, — all this was excellently imitated. The 
 piece, moreover, is Goldoni's, and as I had been only 
 the day before in the place itself, and as the tones and 
 manners of the sailors and people of the seaport still 
 echoed in my ears and floated before my eyes, it de- 
 lighted me very much, ami although I did not under- 
 stand a single allusion, T was nevertheless, on the 
 whole, able to follow -it pretty well. I will now give 
 you the plan of the piece: it opens with the females 
 of Chiozza sitting, as usual,. on the strand before their 
 cabins, spinning, mending nets, sewing, or making 
 lace; a youth passes by, and notices one of them with 
 a more friendly greeting than the rest. Immediately
 
 24 CARLO GOLDOXI. 
 
 the joking begins, and observes no bounds ; becom- 
 ing tarter and tarter, and growing ill-tempered, it soon 
 bursts out into reproaches : abuse vies with abuse ; in 
 the midst of all, one dame, more vehement than the 
 rest, bounces out with the truth ; and now an endless 
 din of scolding, railing, and screaming ; there is no 
 lack of more decided outrage, and at last the peace 
 officers are compelled to interfere. 
 
 " The second act opens with the Court of Justice. In 
 the absence of the podestà (who as a noble could not 
 lawfully be brought upon the stage) the actuarius pre- 
 sides. He orders the women to be brought before him 
 one by one. This gives rise to an interesting scene. 
 It happens that this official personage is himself enam- 
 ored of the first of the combatants who is brought be- 
 fore him. Only too happy to have an opportunity of 
 speaking with her alone, instead of hearing what she 
 has to say on the matter in question, he makes her a 
 declaration of love. In the midst of it a second woman, 
 who is herself in love with the actuary, in a fit of jeal- 
 ousy rushes in, aud with her the suspicious lover of the 
 first damsel, who is followed by all the rest ; and now 
 the same demon of confusion riots in the court as a 
 little before had set at loggerheads the people of the 
 harbor. In the third act the fan gets more and more 
 boisterous, and the whole ends with a hasty and pooT 
 dénoûment. The happiest thought, however, of the 
 whole piece is a character who is thus drawn : an old 
 sailor, who, from the hardships he has been exposed to 
 from his childhood, trembles and falters in all his limbs, 
 and even in his very organs of speech, is brought on 
 the scene to serve as a foil to this restless, screaming, 
 and jabbering crew. Before he can utter a word, he 
 has to make a long preparation by a slow twitching of
 
 CAELO GOLDOXI. 25 
 
 his lips, and an assistant motion of his hands and arms ; 
 at last he blurts out what his thoughts are on the mat- 
 ter in dispute. But as he can only nonage to do this 
 in very short sentences, he acquires thereby a sort of 
 laconic gravity, so that all he utters sounds like an 
 adage or maxim ; and in this way a happy contrast is 
 afforded to the wild and passionate exclamations of the 
 other personages. 
 
 " But even as it was, I never witnessed anything 
 like the noisy delight the people evinced at seeing 
 themselves and their mates represented with such truth 
 of nature. It was <>nc continued laugh and tumultuous 
 
 shout of exultation from beginning to end Great 
 
 praise is due to the author, who out of nothing has hero 
 created the most amusing divertissement. However, he 
 never could have done it with any other people than 
 his own merry and light-hearted countrymen." 
 
 There could be no better analysis of a Goldonian 
 play than this, nor more satisfactory testimony to the 
 favor the dramatist enjoyed among his own people. 
 Yet it is said that Goldoni was at last glad to quit 
 Venice because of the displeasures he suffered from the 
 success of a rival dramatist, Carlo Gozzi. This writer 
 carried to the last excess the principle of the spectacular 
 drama, which Goldoni abhorred, and his popularity 
 must have been sorely vexatious ; but our author, win» 
 is commonly very frank about his motives, does not 
 hint at any such reason foT his expatriation. Those 
 were the grand and courtly times when a prince, having 
 a fancy for this or that artist, could send through his 
 ambassador and " demand" him of his native govern- 
 ment. Fmni time to time members of Goldoni's com- 
 pany were demanded by foreign powers : at last he was 
 himself demanded of the republic by the King of France.
 
 26 CARLO GOLDOXI. 
 
 Quite the same, of course, he was master to stay at 
 home if he liked, but he preferred to accede to the de- 
 maud aud to go for two years to the great city, then as 
 now the ceutre of artistic aspiration, whither his fame 
 had preceded him. He lived in Paris the rest of his 
 days. He often thought of returning to Venice, but as 
 often was helpless to tear himself from the delights of 
 Paris, — the charms of Parisian society, the quick and 
 constant succession of novelties in science, literature, 
 and art, the exquisite playing at the theatres, — all, in 
 a word, that could allure a man of hue taste and light 
 temperament. Of light temperament Goldoni un- 
 doubtedly was, and as such he was a true son of his 
 century. It is amusing, in his memoirs, to observe 
 how unconscious he is of any brooding change which 
 was to involve the destinies ot the agreeable great folk 
 with whom his let was cast : the princesses whom he 
 taught Italian, the king whom he was brought to Paris 
 to amuse, the elegant court of which he modestly 
 firmed a part. He laments the death of the cold- 
 hearted debauchee Louis XV. as if he had been really 
 the well beloved of his people ; he devoutly rejoices 
 over the nuptials of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette 
 and the birth of their children as if the kingship were 
 to go on forever; and he makes no sign, amidst his 
 comments on French society, of any knowledge of an 
 impending and very imminent French revolution. It 
 must be owned that republicans have always taken 
 very kindly to foreign monarchs : the Swiss have been 
 the stay of several tottering despots ; the Americans 
 were the most loathsome admirers and flatterers of the 
 Second Emperor. Poor Goldoni was in raptures — 
 that is the truth — with French royalty aud all that 
 belonged to it, and probably no man in France was
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 27 
 
 more astonished when the Revolution swept everyt hing 
 
 of that sort away. He had a pension of four thousand 
 francs from the king, which went with jhe other pen- 
 sions when the civil list was abolished, and so Goldoni 
 fell into extreme poverty] and sickness followed upon 
 his deprivations. Then the poet Chénier rose one day 
 in the convention, and making- these faets known asked 
 the restitution of Groldoni's pension, which was voted 
 by a great majority: and an annuity of twelve hundred 
 francs was continued to his widow after his death, which 
 took place five years later, when he was e ighty -six 
 years old. 
 
 No kindlier creature seems ever to have lived, and 
 he had traits of genuine modesty that made him truly 
 lovable. He never would suffer himself to he compared 
 with Molière: he meekly howed down before French 
 geniuses whom the world lias ceased, if not to adore, 
 at least to hear of: when the great Count Alfieri calls 
 upon him he is almost overpowered by the honor the 
 noble tragic author docs a greater man. Nothing can 
 be sweeter than the courage with which he goes to 
 Diderot (who, having plagiarized one of Goldoni's com- 
 edies, spoke ill of his talent) and compels his detractor 
 to be his persona] friend. He seems to have kept his 
 temper throughout his trials and vexations in Venice 
 with actors, managers, patrons, and spectators: if ever 
 he retaliate- it is by some satire which they join him in 
 enjoying. A very curious chapter of these troubl 
 that relating to the printing of his plays, a right which 
 the manager, Med. -bac pretended to forbid him, and 
 which he was forced to assert by smuggling into Venice 
 an edition printed in Florence. But all that part of his 
 autobiography relating to his life in Italy is full of the 
 quaintest and most varied experience, and it make- cl
 
 28 CARLO. GOLDONI. 
 
 whole dead world live again : a world of small ducal 
 and princely courts : of alien camps in the midst of a 
 patient and peaceful country ; of strange little local 
 jealousies and ambitions ; of fantastic and conventional 
 culture fostered by a thousand and one academies or 
 literary societies (Goldoni was himself a shepherd of 
 that famous Arcadia winch was the first of these) ; of a 
 restricted and frivolous intellectual life wasting itself 
 in idle disputations and trivial brilliancy : of a social 
 morality amusingly perverted, and yet not so bad as it 
 would seem to a wiser condition of things, though fool- 
 ishly bad, without doubt. In this world the philoso- 
 phies and heresies of transalpine Europe seem to have 
 no root ; it is as devout as it is gay; the church directs 
 its culture as well as its conscience, — one might almost 
 say its vices as well as its pleasures, so much are the 
 clergy and the whole religious profession in and of 
 that world. 
 
 When Goldoni gets to France his autobiography is 
 no longer so charming. His delightful spirit indeed 
 remains unchanged, but it does not deal with such de- 
 lightful material. He sets down much concerning Paris 
 that does not interest, and, as I have hinted, he omits 
 almost everything that touches the grand social and in- 
 tellectual movement of the time. Perhaps as a foreigner 
 attached to the court he could not see this : but he felt 
 too deeply the greatness and fascination of the French 
 world ever to leave it for his native land. He was full 
 of wonder at its variety, its mental liveliness, and its 
 eagerness for every soft of novelty, and the closing 
 chapters of his memoirs are hardly more than a chron- 
 icle of such marvels as ballooning, walking on water, 
 and other semi-scientific inventions. Ile lias much to 
 say of the journals of Paris, hut not much of value,
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 
 
 29 
 
 and he does not seem to have considered their great 
 number and activity as the prophecy of another age 
 and another order of tilings. For Goldcmi, apparently, 
 the eighteenth century was to last forever. 
 
 It is mainly in this part of his autobiography that I 
 have freely condensed his material. Elsewhere I have 
 struck out certain passages, but these contained little 
 that was necessary to a complete picture of the man 
 and his times. In the course of his memoirs he gives 
 tedious outlines of the plots of his comedies. These 
 I have nearly always omitted.
 
 AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 HE life of every author, good or bad, is at the 
 head of his works or in the memoirs of the 
 time. 
 The life of a man, it is true, ought not to 
 appear till after his death ; but do these posterior por- 
 traits bear any resemblance to the originals? If they 
 proceed from a friend, the language of praise is not 
 always the language of truth ; if from an enemy, satire 
 is too often substituted for criticism. 
 
 My life is not interesting ; but it may happen that 
 some time hereafter a collection of my works may be 
 found in the corner of some old library. This will per- 
 haps excite a curiosity to know something of the singular 
 man who undert< k »k the reformatio n of the theatre of his 
 country, who gave to the stage and the press one hun- 
 dred and fifty comedies of character and intrigue, in 
 prose and in verse, and who saw eighteen editions of 
 his theatre pnfifisEed during his own lifetime. It will 
 be undoubtedly said. " This man must have been very 
 rich ; why did he quk his country f " Alas! posterity 
 must be informed that Croldoni found repose, tranquil- 
 lity, and comfort only in France, and that he finished
 
 32 author's preface. 
 
 his career by a French comedy which had the good 
 fortune to succeed on the theatre of that nation. 
 
 I thought that the author alone could give a certain 
 and satisfactory idea of hisVharacter, his anecdotes, and 
 his writings; and I imagined also, that by publishing 
 the memoirs of his life in his own lifetime, if their ac- 
 curacy was not challenged by his contemporaries, his 
 veracity might be relied on by posterity. 
 
 In consequence of this idea, wheif I saw in 1760, 
 that after my first Florence edition, my theatre was the 
 subject of universal pillage, that fifteen editions had 
 been published without my avowal, without my knowl- 
 edge, and what is still worse, in a very incorrect state, I 
 conceived the project of printing a second edition at my 
 own expense, and inserting in each volume, instead of 
 a preface, a part of my life, imagining, at that time, 
 that at the end of the work the history of my person 
 and my theatre might be completed. 
 
 I was mistaken. When I began the octavo edition 
 of Pasquali, with plates, at Venice, I could not have 
 anv idea that my destiny would lead me to cross the 
 Alps. 
 
 On being called to France, in 1761, I continued to 
 furnish the changes and corrections which I had pro- 
 jected for the Venice edition ; but the vortex of Paris, 
 my new occupations, and the distance between the two 
 places, have diminished my activity and retarded the 
 execution of the press to such a degree, that a work 
 which was to extend to thirty volumes, and to be com- 
 pleted in eight years, is only at the expiration of twenty, 
 at the seventeenth volume, and will never be finished 
 in my lifetime. 
 
 What at present agitates and urges me is the account 
 of my life, I repeat, it is not interesting ; but what I
 
 author's preface. 33 
 
 have hitherto given in the seventeen first volumes has 
 been so well received, that I am induced to continue it, 
 especially as what I have hitherto written has only a 
 reference to my person, and what remains for me to 
 say relates to my theatre in particular, that of the 
 Italians in general, and in part of that of the French 
 which I have narrowly examined. The comparison 
 of the manners and tastes of the two nations, and what- 
 ever I have seenvmd ohserved, may perhaps, be found 
 agreeable and even instructive to amateurs. 
 
 I am resolved therefore to labor as long as I can ; 
 and I do so with inexpressible pleasure, that I may the 
 sooner have to speak of my dear Paris, which gave me 
 so kind a reception, which has afforded me so much 
 amusement, and where I have been so usefully occupied. 
 
 I begin by throwing together into French the con- 
 tents of the historical prefaces of my seventeen volumes 
 of Pasquali. This is an abridgment of my life from 
 my birth to the commencement of what in Italy i 
 called the reformation of the Italian theatre. The, 
 public will see in what manner the comic genius, which 
 has always controlled me, was announced, how it was 
 developed, the useless efforts made to turn me from 
 the cultivation of it, and the sacrifice made by me t" 
 the imperious idol which carried me along. This will 
 form the first part of my memoirs. 
 
 The second part will comprehend the history of all my 
 pieces, an account of the circumstances which supplied 
 me with the subject of them, the success or failure of 
 my comedies, the rivalry excited by my success, the 
 cabals which I treated with contempt, and the criti- 
 cisms which I respected, the satires which I bore in 
 silence, and the cavils of the actors which I surmounted. 
 It will be seen that humanity is everywhere the same.
 
 34 
 
 AUTHORS PREFACE. 
 
 that jealousy employs itself everywhere, and that every- 
 where a man of a cool and tranquil disposition, in the 
 end, acquires the love of the public, and wearies out 
 the perfidy of his enemies. 
 
 The third part of these Memoirs will contain my 
 emigration into France. I am so enchanted with 
 having an opportunity of speaking my mind freely on 
 this subject, that I am almost tempted to begin my 
 work with that period. But in everything there ought 
 to be method. I should have been perhaps obliged to 
 retouch the two preceding parts, and I am not fond of 
 going over what I have already done. 
 
 This is all that I had to say to my readers. I re- 
 quest them to read me. and to be so good as to yield 
 me their belief; truth has always been my favorite 
 virtue. I have always found my account in it ; it has 
 saved me from the necessity of studying falsehood, and 
 the mortification of blushing.
 
 
 
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 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 
 
 PART THE FIRST. 
 
 WAS born at Venice, in the year 1707, in a 
 large and beautiful house between the bridges 
 ofNoinboli and Donna Onesta, at the corner 
 of the street C'a cent' anni, in the parish of 
 St. Thomas. Julius Goldoni, my father, was born in 
 the same city ; but all his family were of Modena. 
 My grandfather, Charles Groldoni, went through his 
 studies in the famous college of Parma. There he 
 formed an acquaintance with two noble Venetians. 
 which soon ripened into the most intimate friendship. 
 They prevailed on him to follow them te Venice. Hi- 
 father being dead, he obtained permission from his 
 uncle, who was a colonel and governor of Finale, to 
 settle in the country of his friends, where he obtained 
 a very honorable and lucrative appointment in the 
 office of the Five Commercial Sages, and where he 
 married a Miss Barili of Modena. the daughter of one
 
 36 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 counsellor of state of the Duke of Parma, and the sister 
 of another. This was my paternal grandmother. 
 
 On her death my grandfather became acquainted 
 with a respectable widow who had two daughters : he 
 married the mother, and the eldest daughter was 
 wedded to his son. They were of the Salvioni family, 
 and, though not rich, were in easy circumstances. My 
 mother was a pretty brunette, and though a little lame, 
 was still very attractive. All their property came into 
 the hands of my grandfather. 
 
 He was a worthy man, but by no means an econo- 
 mist. Fond of pleasure, the gay mode of life of the 
 Venetians was well suited to his disposition. He took 
 an elegant country-house, belonging to the Duke oJ 
 Massa-Carrara, in the Marca Trevigiana, six leagues 
 from Venice, where he lived in great splendor. The 
 grandees of the neighborhood could not brook the idea 
 of Groldoui drawing all the villagers and strangers about 
 him ; and one of his neighbors made an attempt to 
 deprive him of his house ; but my grandfather went to 
 Carrara, and took a lease of all the duke's property in 
 the Venetian territories. He returned quite proud of 
 his victory, and lived more extravagantly than ever. 
 He gave plays and operas, and had the best and most 
 celebrated actors and musicians at his command ; and 
 we had visitors from all quarters. Amidst this riot 
 and luxury did I enter the world. Could I possibly 
 contemn theatrical amusements, or not be a lover of 
 gay et y ! 
 
 My mother brought me into the world with little 
 pain, and this increased her love for me ; my first ap- 
 pearance was not, as usual, announced by cries, and 
 this gentleness seemed then an indication of the pacific 
 character which from that day forward I have ever
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 37 
 
 preserved. I was the idol of the house: my nurse 
 maintained that I was clever ; my mother took the 
 charge of my education, and my father of-my amuse- 
 ment. He ordered a puppet-show to he constructed 
 for me, which he contrived t<» manage himself, with the 
 assistance of three or four of his friends ; and at the age 
 of four tins was a high entertainment for me. 
 
 My grandfather died in 1712, of a defiuxion in the 
 chest, occasioned by his exertions in a party of pleas- 
 ure, which in six days brought him to his grave. My 
 grandmother soon followed him. This caused a terri- 
 ble change in our family, which, from the most fortu- 
 nate state of affluence, was all at once plunged into the 
 most embarrassing mediocrity. My father's education 
 was not what it ought to have been ; he was by no 
 means destitute of abilities, but they had never been 
 properly cultivated. He could not retain his father's 
 situation, which a crafty Greek contrived to get posses- 
 sion of. The free property of Modena was sold, and 
 the entailed mortgaged : and all that remained was the 
 property of Venice, the fortunes of my mother and aunt. 
 To add to our misfortune, my mother gave birth to a 
 second son, John Groldoni, my brother. My father 
 found himself very much embarrassed ; but as he was 
 not over fond of indulging in melancholy reflections, 
 he resolved on a journey to Rome to dispel his un- 
 easiness. I shall relate in the following chapter what 
 he did there, and what became of him. I must return 
 to myself, for I am the hero of my own tale. 
 
 My mother was left alone at the head of the house, 
 with her sister and her two children. She put the 
 youngest out to board; and, bestowing lier whole at- 
 tention on me, she determined on bringing me up under 
 her own eye. I was mild, tranquil, and obedient : at
 
 38 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the age of four, I could read aud write, I knew my 
 catechism by heart, and a tutor was procured for me. 
 I was very fond of hooks, and I learned with great 
 facility my grammar, and the principles of geography 
 and arithmetic ; hut my favorite reading was comedies. 
 The small library of my father contained a tolerable 
 number, aud I employed almost all my leisure mo- 
 ments in reading them. I even copied the passages 
 with which I was most delighted. My mother gave 
 herself no concern about the choice of my reading; it 
 was enough that my time was not taken up with the 
 usual playthings of children. Among the comic authors 
 whom I frequently read and reread, Cicognini had the 
 preference. This Florentine author, very little known 
 in the republic of letters, was the author of several 
 comedies of intrigue, full of whining pathos and 
 commonplace drollery ; still, however, they were ex- 
 ceedingly interesting, for he possessed the art of keep- 
 ing up a state of suspense, and he was successful in 
 winding up his plots. I was infinitely attached to him, 
 studied him with great attention, and, at the age of 
 eight, I had the presumption to compose a comedy. 
 
 The first person to whom 1 communicated this cir- 
 cumstance was my nurse, who thought it quite charm- 
 ing. My aunt laughed at me ; my mother scolded and 
 caressed me by turns ; my tutor maintained that there 
 was more wit and common-sense in it than belouged to 
 my age ; but what was most singular, my godfather, a 
 lawyer, richer in gold than in knowledge, could not be 
 prevailed on to believe that it was my composition. 
 He insisted that it had been revised and corrected by 
 my tutor, who was quite shocked at the insinuation. 
 The dispute was growing warm, when, luckily, a third 
 person made his appearance, and instantly restored
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 39 
 
 tranquillity. This was M. Vallé, afterwards the Abbé 
 Vallé of Bergamo. This friend of the family had seen 
 me busied at my comedy, and had witnessed my puer- 
 ilities and my little sallies. I had entreated him to 
 speak to nobody on the subject : he had kept my secret ; 
 and on this occasion he put my incredulous godfather 
 to silence, and rendered justice to my good qualities. 
 
 In the first volume of my edition of Pasquali, I cited 
 the Abbé Vallé, who was living in J 770, in confirma- 
 tion of the truth of this anecdote, suspecting that there 
 might be other godfathers not disposed to give me 
 credit. If the reader ask what was the title of my 
 play, I cannot satisfy him, for this is a trifle I did not 
 think of when composing it : it would be easy for me 
 to invent one now ; but I prefer giving a true state- 
 ment of things to the embellishing them. This com- 
 edy, in short, or rather this piece of infantine folly, was 
 circulated amongst all my mother's acquaintance. A 
 copy was sent off to my father; and this leads me 
 again to speak of him. 
 
 My father was only to have remained a few months 
 in Rome, but lie staved four years. In this great cap- 
 ital of the Christian world there was an intimate friend 
 of his, M. Alexander Bonicelli, a Venetian, who had 
 lately married a Roman lady of great wealth, and who 
 lived in great splendor. M. Bonicelli gave his friend 
 Goldoni a very warm reception : he received him into 
 his house, introduced him into all societies and to all 
 his acquaintance, and recommended him powerfully to 
 If. Lancisi, the first physician and secret camériere of 
 Pope Clement XI. This celebrated doctor, by whom 
 the republic of letters and the faculty have been en- 
 riched with excellent works, conceived a strong attach- 
 ment for my father, who possessed talents, and who
 
 40 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 was looking out for employment. Laneisi advised him 
 to apply himself to medicine, and he promised him his 
 favor, assistance, and protection. My father consented : 
 he studied in the college della Sapienzia, and served 
 his apprenticeship in the hospital del Santo Spirito. 
 At the end of four years he was created doctor, and 
 his Mecsenas sent him to make his first experiments at 
 Perugia. 
 
 My father's début was exceedingly fortunate: he 
 contrived to avoid those diseases with which he was 
 unacquainted; he cured his patients ; and the " Vene- 
 tian doctor" was quite in vogue in that country. My 
 father, who was perhaps a good physician, was also 
 very agreeable in company; and to the natural amenity 
 of his countrymen, he added an acquaintance with the 
 usages of genteel company in the place which he had 
 quitted. He acquired the esteem and the friendship of 
 the Bailloni and the Antinori, two of the most noble 
 and wealthy families of the town of Perugia. 
 
 In this town, and thus happily situated, he received 
 the first specimen of his eldest son's abilities. Defec- 
 tive as this comedy must have been, he was infinitely 
 flattered with it ; for, calculating by the rules of arith- 
 metic, if nine years gave four carats of talent, eighteen 
 might give twelve ; and, by regular progression, it was 
 possible to arrive even at a degree of perfection. My 
 father determined on having me with himself. This 
 was a sad blow for my mother, who at first resisted, 
 then hesitated, and at last yielded. One of the most 
 favorable opportunities occurred at this time. Our 
 family was very intimate with that of Count Rinalducci 
 de Rimini', who, with his wife and daughter, was then 
 at Venice. The Abbé Einalducci, a Benedictine 
 father, and the count's brother, was to set out for
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 41 
 
 Rome ; and he undertook to pass through Perugia, 
 and to take the charge of me to that place. 
 
 Everything was got ready, and the moment of de- 
 parture arrived. I will not speak of the tears of my 
 tender mother : those who have children well know 
 what is suffered on such trying occasions. I was very 
 warmly attached to her who had given me birth, who 
 had reared and cherished me ; but the idea of a journey 
 is a charming consolation for a young man. Father 
 Rinaldueci and myself embarked in the port of Venice, 
 in a sort of felucca, called peota-zuecchina, and we 
 sailed for Rimini. I suffered nothing from the sea ; I 
 had even an excellent appetite, and we landed at the 
 mouth of the Mareechia, where horses were in readi- 
 ness for us. When a horse was brought to me, I was 
 in the greatest possible embarrassment. At Venice no 
 horses are to be seen in the streets; and though there 
 arc two academies, I was too young to derive any ad- 
 vantage from them. In my infancy I had seen horses 
 in the country, but I was afraid of them, and did not 
 dare to approach them. The r< nuls < »f Umbria, through 
 which we had to pass, were mountainous, and a horse 
 was the most convenient mode of conveyance for pas- 
 sengers; there was, therefore, no alternative. They 
 laid hold of me by the middle, and threw me on the 
 saddle. Merciful Heaven ! Boots, stirrups, whip, 
 and bridle ! what was to be done with all these things ! 
 I was tossed about like a sack; the reverend father 
 laughed very heartily at me, the servants ridiculed me, 
 and I even laughed at myself. I became by degrees 
 familiarized to my pony. I regaled it with bread and 
 fruit, and in six days' time we arrived at Perugia. 
 
 My father was glad to see me, and still more glad to 
 see me in good health. I told him, with an air of im-
 
 42 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 portance, that I had performed the journey on horse- 
 back ; he smiled as he applauded me, aud he embraced 
 me affectionately. The place where we were lodged 
 was exceedingly dismal, and the street steep and dirty; 
 I entreated my father to remove, but he could not, as 
 the house belonged to the hotel or palace d 'Antinori ; 
 he paid no rent, and was quite near the nuns of St. 
 Catharine, whose physician he was. 
 
 I now viewed the town of Perugia ; my father con- 
 ducted me everywhere himself; he began with the su- 
 perb church of San Lorenzo, which is the cathedral of 
 this country, where the ring with which St. Joseph es- 
 poused the Virgin Mary is still preserved : it is a stone 
 of a transparent bluish color, and very thick contour ; 
 so it appeared to me, — but this ring, it is said, has the 
 marvellous property of appearing under a different 
 color aud form to every one who approaches it. My 
 father pointed out to me the citadel, built when Perugia 
 was in the enjoyment of republican liberty, by order of 
 Paul the Third, under the pretext of a donation to the 
 Perugians of an hospital for patients and pilgrims. 
 He introduced pieces of camion in carts loaded with 
 straw, and the inhabitants soon found themselves 
 obliged to acknowledge Paul the Third. I saw fine 
 palaces and churches, and agreeable walks. I asked 
 whether there was a theatre, and I was told there was 
 none. " So much the worse," said Ij "I would not 
 remain here for all the gold in the world!" 
 
 After passing a few days in this manner, my father 
 determined that I should renew my studies ; a very 
 proper resolution, which accorded with my own wishes. 
 The Jesuits were then in vogue, and on being proposed 
 to them, I was received without difficulty. The hu- 
 manity-classes are not regulated here as in France ;
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 43 
 
 there are only three, — under grammar, upper grammar, 
 or humanity, properly so called, and rhetoric. Those 
 who employ their time well may finish their course in 
 the space of three years. At Venice I had gone 
 through the first year of under grammar, and T might 
 now have entered the upper, hut the time which I had 
 lost, the distraction occasioned by travelling, and the 
 new masters under whom I was about to be placed, in- 
 duced my father to make me recommence my studies ; 
 in which he acted very wisely, for you will soon see, 
 my dear reader, how the vanity of the Venetian gram- 
 marian, who plumed himself on the composition of a 
 play, was in an instant wofully mortified. The liter- 
 ary season was well advanced, and I was received in 
 the under class as a scholar properly qualified for the 
 upper. My answers to the questions put to me were 
 incorrect ; I hesitated in my translations ; and the 
 Latin which I attempted to make was full of barbar- 
 isms and solecisms : in short, I became the derision of 
 my companions, who took a pleasure in challenging 
 me ; and as every encounter with them ended in my 
 defeat, my father was quite in despair, and I myself 
 was astonished and mortified, and believed myself be- 
 witched. 
 
 The time of the holidays drew near, when Ave had to 
 perform a task, which in Italy is called the passage 
 Latin : for this little labor decides the fate of the 
 scholar, whether be is to rise to a higher class, or con- 
 tinue to remain in the same. The latter alternative 
 was all that 1 had a right to expect. The day came : 
 the regent or rector dictated : the scholars wrote down : 
 and every one exerted himself to the utmost. I strained 
 every nerve, and figured to myself my honor and am- 
 bition at stake, and the concern of my father and mother;
 
 44 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I saw my neighbors bestowing a side glance at me, and 
 laughing at my endeavors: facit hahfjnatio version. 
 Rage and shame spurred me on and inspired me ; I read 
 my theme, I felt my head cool, my hand rapid, and my 
 memory fresh ; I finished before the rest, I sealed my 
 paper, took it to the regent, and departed very well 
 pleased with myself. Eight days afterwards the scholars 
 were collected together and called on ; and the decision 
 of the college was published. The first nomination 
 was, " Goldoni to the Upper"; on which a general 
 laugh burst out in the class, and many insulting ob- 
 servations were made. My translation was read aloud, 
 in which there was not a single fault of orthography. 
 The regent called me to the chair ; I rose to go ; I saw 
 my father at the door, and I ran to embrace him. 
 
 The regent wished to speak to me in private ; he 
 paid me several compliments, and told me, that not- 
 withstanding the gross mistakes which I committed 
 from time to time in my ordinary lessons, he had sus- 
 pected that I was possessed of talents from the favor- 
 able specimens he occasionally perceived in my themes 
 and verses ; he added that this last essay convinced 
 him that I had purposely concealed my talents, and he 
 alluded jocularly to the tricks of the Venetians. " You 
 do me too great an honor, reverend father," said I to 
 him : "I assure you I have suffered too much during 
 the last three months to amuse myself at such an ex- 
 pense : I did not counterfeit ignorance ; I was in reality 
 what I seemed, and it is a phenomenon which I cannot 
 explain." The regent exhorted mo to continue my ap- 
 plication, and as he himself was to pass to the upper 
 class to which I had gained a right of entrance, he 
 assured me of his favor and good-will. 
 
 My father, who was perfectly satisfied with me, en-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 45 
 
 deavored to recompense and amuse me during the time 
 of the vacation. He knew that I was fond of plays ; 
 he admired them also himself; he even collected a so- 
 ciety of young people, and obtained the use of a hall 
 in the palace d'Autinori, where he constructed a small 
 theatre ; the actors were formed by himself, and we 
 represented plays. In the pope's dominions (except 
 the three legations) women are not allowed on the 
 stage. I was young, and by no means ugly, and a 
 female character was allotted to me ; I even got the 
 first character and was charged with the prologue. 
 This prologue was so singular a piece that it has never 
 gone out of my head, and I must treat my reader with 
 it. In the last century the Italian literature was so 
 corrupted that both prose and poetry were turgid and 
 Lombastical ; and metaphors, hyperboles, and antith- 
 eses supplied the place of common-sense. This de- 
 praved taste was not altogether extirpated in 1720; 
 and my father was accustomed to it. The following 
 is the commencement of the precious composition which 
 I was made to deliver : " Benignissimo cielo !" (I was 
 addressing my auditors) u ai rai del vostro splendi- 
 dissimosole, eccoci qual farfalle, die spiegando le deboli 
 ali de' nostri concetti, portiamo a si bel lume il volo," 
 etc. ; which, in plain English, signifies, " Most benign 
 Heaven, in the rays of your most resplendent sun, be- 
 hold us like butterflies, who, on the feeble wings of 
 our expressions, take our flight to your admirable 
 light," etc. 
 
 This charming prologue procured me an immensity 
 of sweetmeats, with which the theatre was inundated, 
 and myself almost blinded. This is the usual expres- 
 sion of applause in the Pope's dominions. The pieee 
 in which I acted was ''La Sorellina di Don Pilone "
 
 46 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 (The Little Sister of Don Pilone), and I was highly 
 applauded ; for in a country where plays are rare the 
 spectators are not difficult to please. My father said 
 that I seemed to comprehend my part, but that I should 
 never be a good actor • and he was not mistaken. We 
 continued to act till the end of the holidays. I took 
 my place at the opening of the classes; at the end of 
 the year I passed to rhetoric ; and I finished my course 
 with the friendship and esteem of the Jesuits, who did 
 me the honor to offer me a place in their society, — an 
 honor which I did not accept. During this period 
 great changes took place in our family. My mother 
 could no longer bear the absence of her eldest son ; 
 and she entreated her husband either to return to Ven- 
 ice or to permit her to join him. After many letters 
 and many discussions, it was at length decided that 
 Madame Goldoni, with her sister and her youngest son, 
 should join the rest of the family ; and this was im- 
 mediately carried into execution. 
 
 My mother could not enjoy a single day of good 
 health in Perugia, so much did the air of the country 
 disagree with her. Born and brought up in the tem- 
 perate climate of Venice, she could not bear the cold 
 of the mountains. She suffered a great deal, and was 
 almost at death's door, but she was resolved to sur- 
 mount the pains and dangers of her situation so long 
 as she believed my residence in that town necessary, 
 that the course of my studies, which were now so far 
 advanced, might not be exposed to interruption. When 
 my course was finished, she prevailed on my father to 
 satisfy her, and he very willingly consented. The 
 death of his protector, Antinori, had been productive 
 of several disagreeable circumstances ; the physicians 
 of Perugia bore him little good-will, and this induced
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 47 
 
 him the more readily to resolve on quitting the territory 
 of Perugia and approach the mouth of the Adriatic. 
 
 II. 
 
 In a few days the project was carried into execution. 
 A carriage, capable of holding four persons, was pur- 
 chased, and we had my brother into the bargain. We 
 took the road of Spoleti, as the most commodious, and 
 we arrived at Rimini, where the whole family of Count 
 Rinalducci was assembled, and where we were received 
 with transports of joy. It was of the utmost con- 
 sequence that my literary application should not be a 
 second time interrupted. My father destined me for 
 medicine, and I had to enter on the study of philosophy. 
 
 The Dominicans of Rimini enjoyed a great reputa- 
 tion for logic, the key to all the sciences, physical as 
 well as speculative. Count Rinalducci introduced us 
 to Professor Candiui, and I was intrusted to his care. 
 As the count could not keep me in his own house, I 
 was boarded with M. Battaglini, a merchant and banker, 
 the friend and countryman of my father. Notwith- 
 standing the remonstrances and regrets of my mother, 
 who would never willingly part from me, the whole 
 family set out for Venice, where I could only join them 
 when it might be thought proper to send for me. They 
 embarked for Chiozza,* in a bark belonging to that 
 
 * Chiozza is eight leagues from Venice, and built on piles like the cap- 
 ital. It is computed to contain forty thousand souls, all of the lower 
 order, — fishermen, sailors, and women, who make a coarse lacp, in which 
 a considerable trade is carried on ; there are very few individuals above 
 the vulgar. Every person is ranged there in one of two classes, — the 
 rich or the poor; those who wear a wig and cloak are the rich ; and the 
 others, who have only a cap and capotto, are the poor ; and yet it fre- 
 quently happens that the latter possess four times more wealth than the 
 others.
 
 48 MEMOIBS OF 
 
 place ; and the wind "being favorable, they arrived 
 there in a very short time ; but, on account of the 
 fatigue of my mother, they were obliged to stop there 
 for the sake of repose. 
 
 This place agreed very well with my mother, the air 
 of Chiozza corresponding with that of her native place. 
 She was elegantly lodged, enjoyed an agreeable view, 
 and a charming degree of freedom ; her sister was com- 
 plaisant, my brother was still an infant unable to speak, 
 and my father, who had projects, communicated his re- 
 flections to his wife, by whom they were approved. 
 u We must not return to Venice," said he, " till we are 
 in a situation to enable us to live without being burden- 
 some to any one." It was necessary, therefore, that he 
 should first go to Modena to arrange the family affairs. 
 This was accordingly done. My father was now at 
 Modena, my mother at Chiozza, and myself at Eimiui. 
 
 I fell sick, and was seized with the small-pox, but 
 of a very mild kind. M. Battaglini did not inform my 
 parents till he saw me out of danger. It is impossible 
 to be better taken care of and attended to than I was 
 on this occasion. I was hardly in a condition to ero 
 out, when my landlord, who was extremely attentive 
 and zealous for my welfare, urged me to return to Father 
 Candini. I went very unwillingly : this professor, who 
 was a man of great celebrity, wearied me dreadfully ; he 
 was mild, wise, and learned; he possessed great merit, 
 but he was a Thomist in his soul, and could not devi- 
 ate from his ordinary method ; his scholastic circumlo- 
 cutions appeared to be useless, and his barbara and 
 baralipton ridiculous. I wrote from his dictation ; but, 
 instead of going over my note-books at home, I nour- 
 ished my mind with a much more useful and agreeable 
 philosophy; I read Plantas. Terence, Aristophanes,
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 49 
 
 and the fragments of Bfenander. It is true, I did not 
 
 shine iu oar daily circles : but I had the address to per- 
 suade my companions that my indifference to the mas- 
 ter's Lessons proceeded neither from laziness nor stupid 
 ignorance, but from being fatigued and disgusted with 
 tluir length and inutility. There were many of them 
 who thought on this subject like myself. Modern phi- 
 losophy had not then made the considerable progress 
 which has been since witnessed ; and it was at that 
 time necessary (especially for ecclesiastics) to keep to 
 the systems of Thomas, or Scot, or the peripatetic, or 
 the mixed, the whole of which only wander from the 
 philosophy of good sense. 
 
 I had great want of some agreeable amusement to 
 relieve the ennui which overpowered me. I soon found 
 an opportunity, of which I availed myself: and my 
 readers will not he displeased perhaps to pass with me 
 from the circles of philosophy to those of a company of 
 comedians. We had one at Rimini, which appealed 
 to me quite charming. It was the first time I saw 
 women on the stage: and I found that they ornamented 
 the scene in the most attractive manner. Rimini is in 
 the legation of Ravenna: women are admitted on the 
 theatre, and we do not see there, as at Rome, men 
 without beards or even the signs of them. The first 
 day or two, I went very modestly into the pit ; but see- 
 ing young people like myself on the boards, I endeav- 
 ored also to get there, and succeeded without difficulty. 
 I bestowed a side-glance on the ladies, who looked 
 boldly at me. By and by I grew mon- familiar, and 
 from one subject of conversation to another, and from 
 question to question, they learned that I was a Vene- 
 tian. They were all country-people of my own. and I 
 received compliments and caresses without number
 
 50 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 from them. The director or manager himself loaded 
 me with kindness ; he asked me to dine with him, and 
 I went. The reverend Father Candini was now entirely 
 out of my head. 
 
 The comedians were on the point of finishing their 
 engagement, and taking their departure, which was a 
 most distressing circumstance for me. On a Friday, a 
 day of relaxation for all Italy, the state of Veuice ex- 
 cepted, we formed a rural party ; all the company were 
 with us, and the manager announced the departure for 
 the following week ; he had engaged the bark, which 
 was to conduct them to Chiozza. " To Chiozza ! n said 
 I, with a cry of surprise. " Yes, sir, we are to go to 
 Venice, but we shall stop fifteen or twenty days at 
 Chiozza, to give a few representations in passing." 
 " Ah ! my mother is at Chiozza ; how gladly would I 
 see her !" " Come along with us." " Yes, yes," cried 
 one and all; " with us, with us, in our bark ; you will 
 be very comfortable in it ; it will cost you nothing ; we 
 shall play, laugh, sing, and amuse ourselves." How 
 could I resist such temptations ? How could I lose so 
 fine an opportunity ? I accepted the invitation, and I 
 began to prepare for my journey. 
 
 I opened the business to my landlord, but he opposed 
 me warmly. As I insisted, however, he communicated 
 my project to Count Riualducci, and I had every one 
 against me. I pretended to acquiesce, and I kept my- 
 self quiet. On the day fixed for my departure I put 
 two shirts and a nightcap into my pocket ; Irepaired to 
 the port, was the first to enter the vessel, and concealed 
 myself well under the prow. I had my inkhorn with 
 me ; I wrote an excuse to M. Battaglini : I told him I 
 could not resist the desire of seeing my mother; I re- 
 quested him to make a present of my clothes to the
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 51 
 
 nurse who took care of me in my illness; and I told 
 him that I was on the point of departure. This was a 
 fault, I own ; I have committed others, and I shall own 
 them in the same manner. The players arrived. 
 k ' Where is M. Groldoni I " Goldoni then sallied out 
 of his hiding-place, at which every one began to laugh. 
 I was feasted and caressed. We set sail. Adieu, 
 Rimini. My comedians were not Scarron's company, 
 but on the whole, they presented a very amusing coup- 
 ci' a il. Twelve persons, actors as well as actresses, a 
 prompter, a machinist, a store-keeper, eight domestics, 
 four chambermaids, two nurses, children of every age, 
 cats, dogs, monkeys, parrots, birds, pigeons, and a 
 lamb ; it was another Xoah's ark ! The bark Mas 
 very large, and divided into a number of apartments. 
 Every female had her little corner, with curtains. Au 
 excellent bed Mas fitted up for me beside the manager; 
 and all of us were comfortable. The steward, who 
 was at the same time cook and butler, rang a little 
 bell, M-hich M'as our signal for breakfast. On this we 
 all assembled in a sort of saloon in the middle of the 
 vessel above the chests, trunks, and packages. An 
 oval table was covered with coffee, tea, milk, roast 
 meat, M r ater, and wine. 
 
 The principal actress {première amoureuse) asked 
 for soup. There M'as none. She M-as quite in a rage, 
 and they had all the difficulty in the world to pacify 
 her with a cup of chocolate. She Mas the ugliest and 
 the most difficult to pleas.- of the whole. After break- 
 fast, play M'as proposed till dinner should be ready. I 
 played tresset pretty well. It M'as the favorite game 
 of my mother, from whom I learned it. We were 
 going to begin tresset and piquet, but a faro-table on 
 deck dreM' everybody towards it. The bank M'as more
 
 52 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a matter of amusement than interest, and the director 
 would not have Buffered it on any other terms. We 
 played, laughed, joked, and crave ourselves up to all 
 manner of tricks till the bell summoned us to dinner. 
 Macaroni ! Every one fell upon it, and three dishes 
 were devoured. "We had also alamode beef, cold fowl, 
 a loin of veal, a dessert, and excellent wine. What 
 a charming dinner ! No cheer like a good appetite. 
 
 We remained four hours at table ; we played on dif- 
 ferent instruments, and sang a great deal. The actress 
 who played the waiting-maid sang divinely. I con- 
 sidered her attentively : she produced a singular sensa- 
 tion in me. Alas! an adventure took place which in- 
 terrupted the happiness of the society. A cat escaped 
 from her cage, the favorite of the principal actress, 
 who called on every one for assistance. She was 
 briskly phased, but, being as wild as her mistress, she 
 skipped, leaped about, and crept into every hole and 
 corner. When she found herself at last rather warmly 
 pursued, she climbed up the mast. Seeing the distress 
 of Madame Clarice, a sailor sprang up after her, when 
 the cat leaped into the sea, where she remained. Her 
 mistress was in despair, she attempted to kill every 
 animal within reach of her, and to throw her waiting- 
 maid into the watery grave of her darling. We all 
 t<»ok the part of the waiting-maid, and the quarrel be- 
 came general. The manager made his appearance, 
 laughed, rallied, and caressed the afflicted lady. She 
 at last began herself to laugh, and the cat was forgotten. 
 The wind was unfavorable, and we remained three days 
 at sea, always with the same amusements, the same 
 pleasures, and the same appetite. We arrived on the 
 fourth day at Chiozza. 
 
 I had not the address of my mother's lodgings, but
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. Do 
 
 I had not long to inquire, — Madame Goldoni and her 
 sister wore a head-dress ; they were in the rich class, 
 and known by everybody. I requested the manager 
 to accompany me : he very readily consented, and an- 
 nounced himself on his arrival. I remained in the 
 antechamber. " Madam," said he to my mother, " I 
 come from Rimini; I have news from your son." 
 "How does my son?" "Very well, madam." "Is 
 he content with his situation ! " " Not remarkably so, 
 madam; he suffers a great deal." " From what.'" 
 " From being so far from his tender mother. " " Poor 
 child ! I wish I had him beside me." (All this was 
 heard by me, and my heart beat within me. ) " Madam," 
 continued the manager, " I offered to bring him with 
 me." " "Why then did you not .• " " Would you have 
 been pleased ! " " Undoubtedly." " But his studies .' "* 
 " His studies ! Could he not return? Besides, mas- 
 ters are everywhere to be had." " Then you would will- 
 ingly see him ?" " With the greatest joy." "Here 
 he is, then, madam." On this he opened the door, and 
 I made my entrance ; I threw myself at my mother's 
 feet, who cordially embraced me; neither of us could 
 speak for our tears. The actor, accustomed to scenes 
 of this nature, after passing some agreeable compli- 
 ments, took his leave of my mother, and departed; I 
 remained with her, and frankly owned the folly I had 
 committed ; she scolded me one moment, and caressed 
 me the next, and we were quite pleased with each 
 other. My aunt was then out ; ou her entrance, we 
 had a repetition of the same surprise and the same 
 caresses. My brother was at that time boarded out. 
 
 On the day after my arrival, my mother received 
 a letter from M. Battaglini at Rimini, who com- 
 municated to her my prank, of which he complained
 
 54 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 bitterly, and informed her that she would soon receive 
 a portmanteau, containing my books, linen, and other 
 articles, which my nurse knew not what to do with. 
 My mother was very uneasy, and disposed to scold me ; 
 but apropos of letters, she remembered that she had 
 received a very interesting one from my father; she 
 went to look for it, and put it into my hands : the fol- 
 lowing is the substance of it. 
 
 "Pavia, March 17, 1721. 
 
 "My dear "Wife, — I have news for you concerning our 
 dear son, which will give you great pleasure. I quitted Mo- 
 dena, as you know, to go to Piacenza, for the sake of arranging 
 affairs with my cousin, M. Barilli, who still owes me a part of 
 my mother's fortune ; and if I can join this sum to the arrears 
 which I have just received at Modena, we shall be able to settle 
 ourselves comfortably. 
 
 " My cousin was not at Piacenza ; he had set out to Pavia, 
 to be present at the marriage of a nephew of his wife. As the 
 journey was not long, I resolved on joining him at Pavia. I 
 found him, spoke to him, he owned the debt, and matters are 
 arrauged. He is to pay me in six years ; but you shall hear 
 what has happened to me in this town. 
 
 "On alighting at the hotel of the Red Cross, I was asked my 
 name, for the purpose of having it entered at the police. Next 
 day, the landlord introduced a servant of the governor's to me, 
 who very politely asked me to repair, at my convenience, to the 
 government palace. Notwithstanding the word convenience, I 
 was far from being at my case at that moment, and I was quite 
 at a loss to conjecture what they could possibly want with me. 
 I went first to my cousin, and after our affairs were settled, I 
 spoke to him of this sort of invitation, which disquieted me a 
 great deal, and I asked him whether he was personally ac- 
 quainted with the governor of Pavia. He told me he was, 
 that he had known him a long time, that he was the Marquis 
 Goldoni-Vidoui, of a good family of Cremona, and a senator of
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 55 
 
 Milan. At the name of Goldoni, I banished every fear; I con- 
 ceived the most flattering ideas, and I was not deceived. I 
 went to see him in the afternoon ; he received me in the most 
 respectful and gracious manner. It was my -signature which 
 had inspired him with the desire of knowing me. We talked 
 a great deal ; I told him that I was originally from Modena : 
 he did me the honor of observing that the town of Cremona 
 was not very distant from Modena. People came in, and he 
 asked me to dine with him next day. I did not fail to go, as 
 you may well believe ; there were four of us at table, and we 
 had a very good dinner. The two other guests left us after 
 coffee, and the senator and myself were left by ourselves. We 
 spoke of a number of things, but principally of my family, my 
 situation, aud my actual circumstances; in short, he promised 
 to do somethiug for my eldest son. At Pavia there is a uni- 
 versity as famous as that of Padua, and several colleges, where 
 those who have exhibitions are alone received. The marcpuis 
 engaged to obtain for me one of those exhibitions in the Pope's 
 College ; and if Charles behaves himself, he will take care of 
 him. 
 
 " "Write nothing of this to my son. At my return I shall 
 s?nd for him. I wish to have the pleasure of informing him 
 of it myself. 
 
 " I shall not be long, I hope," etc. 
 
 The contents of this letter were quite calculated to 
 flatter me, and inspire me with the most unbounded 
 hopes. I then felt all the imprudence of my proceed- 
 ing. I dreaded my father's indignation, and I was afraid 
 lest he should be inclined to distrust my conduct in a 
 town still more distant, and where I should be much 
 more at liberty. My m< rtiher inf< urmed me that she would 
 endeavor to screen me from my father's reproaches, — 
 that she would take everything on herself, particularly 
 as my repentance appeared sincere. I was reasonable 
 enough in fact for my age; but I was apt to act incon-
 
 56 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 siderately at times. This has done me much injury, as 
 the reader will see, and perhaps he will sometimes be 
 inclined to pity me. 
 
 My mother wished to introduce me to her acquaint- 
 ance ; but my only dress consisted of an old surtout, 
 which at sea had served me for dress, nightgown, and 
 a covering for my feet. She ordered a tailor, and I was 
 soon properly equipped, and in a state to make my ap- 
 pearance abroad. My first care was to call on my trav- 
 elling companions, who were very glad to see me. 
 They were engaged for twenty representations ; and as 
 I received a right of admission, I resolved to take ad- 
 vantage of it with the good pleasure of my affectionate 
 mother. She was very intimate with the Abbé Gen- 
 narij a canon of the cathedral. This good ecclesiastic 
 was rather a rigorist. Plays in Italy are not proscribed 
 by the Roman church, and players are not excommuni- 
 cated; but the Abbé Gennari maintained that the com- 
 edies which were then acted were dangerous for youth, 
 in which he was probably not much in the wrong. My 
 mother therefore forbid me the theatre. I was obliged 
 to obey ; but, though I did not go to the representations, 
 I visited the actors, and the actress who performed the 
 part of the waiting-maid more frequently than the oth- 
 ers. I have always continued to have a predilection 
 for those who act that character. 
 
 In six days my father arrived. I trembled all over : 
 my mother concealed me in her dressing-closet, and 
 took the rest on herself. My father ascended the steps ; 
 my mother ran to meet him ; my aunt did the same, 
 and the usual embraces took place. My father appeared 
 chagrined and thoughtful, and he had not his usual 
 gayety. They supposed him fatigued. On entering 
 the room, my father's first words were, "Where is my
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 57 
 
 son ? " My mother answered with perfect sincerity, 
 " Our youngest son is boarded out." " Xo, no/' replied 
 my father in a rage, " I want the eldest,"and he must 
 he here. In concealing him from me, you are doiug 
 very wrong; he must be corrected for his misconduct." 
 My mother was quite at a loss what to do or say; she 
 uttered vaguely, "But — how ? w My father inter- 
 rupted her, stamping with his feet: "Yes, I have 
 been informed of everything by M. Battaglini, who 
 wrote to me at Modena, and I found the letter in pass- 
 ing through it."' My mother entreated of him, with an 
 afflicted air, to hear me before condemning me. My 
 father, still in a rage, asked again where I was. I 
 could contain myself no longer; I opened the glass 
 door, but I durst not advance. " Go out," said my 
 father to his wife and sister; "leave me alone with 
 this profligate." When they were gone, I came for- 
 ward trembling: "Ah, father!" "How, sir! How 
 do you happen to be here?" "Father — you have 
 been told." "Yes, I have been told that, in spite of 
 remonstrances and good advice, and in opposition to 
 every one, you have had the insoleuce to quit Rimini 
 abruptly." "What should I have done at Rimini, 
 father 1 It was lost time for me." "How, lost time! 
 Is the study of philosophy lost time?" "Ah! the 
 scholastic philosophy, the syllogisms, the enthymemas, 
 the sophisms, the negos propos and concedos ; do you 
 remember them, father ?" (He could not avoid dis- 
 playing a slight movement of the lips which indicated 
 his desire to laugh ; I was shrewd enough to perceive 
 it, and I took courage.) "Ah, father ! " I added, " teach 
 me the philosophy of man, sound moral philosophy, 
 and experimental natural philosophy." " Come, come ; 
 how did you arrive here ? " " By sea." " With
 
 58 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 whom ! n " With a company of players." " Players ! " 
 " They are very respectable people, father." "What 
 is the name of the manager V " He is Florindo on the 
 stage, and they call him Florindo de' Macaroni." "0, 
 
 I know him : he is a worthy man; he acted Don Gio- 
 vanni in the ' Festin» di Pietra ' ; he thought proper to 
 eat the macaroni belonging to Harlequin, and that is 
 the way he came by that surname." " I assure you, 
 father, that this company — n "Where is the com- 
 pany gone to? 7 ' "It is here." "Here?" "Yes, 
 father." " Do they act here ? " " Yes, father." "I 
 shall go to see them." " And I also, cither ? " "You, 
 rascal ! What is the name of the principal actress ! " 
 " Clarice." " 0, Clarice ! — excellent, ugly, hut very 
 clever." "Father — " "I must go to thank them." 
 " And I, father ! » " Wretch ! " " I beg your pardon." 
 
 II Well, well, for this time." 
 
 My mother, who had heard everything, now entered : 
 she was very glad to see me on good terms with my 
 father. She mentioned the Abbe Gennari to him, not 
 with the view of preventing me from going to the play 
 (for my father was as f>nd of it as myself), but for the 
 sake of informing him that the canon, suffering under 
 different diseases, was anxious to see him ; that he had 
 Bpoken to the whole town of the famous Venetian phy- 
 sician, pupil of the great Lancisi, who was instantly 
 expected : and that he had only to show himself to re- 
 ceive more patients than he could desire. This is what 
 really happened. Everybody wished to have Doctor 
 Groldoni; rich and poor flocked to him, and the poor 
 paid better than the rich. He took more commodious 
 apartments, and settled at Ohiozza, to remain there Be 
 long as fortune should continue favorable to him, or till 
 some other physician in vogue should supplant him.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 59 
 
 Seeing me unoccupied, and in want of good masters in 
 town., my father wished himself to make something of 
 me. He destined me for medicine, and till he should 
 have the letters announcing my nomination to the Col- 
 lege of Pa via, he ordered me to accompany him in his 
 daily visits. He thought that a little practice before 
 the study of the theory would give me a superficial 
 acquaintance with medicine, which I might find very 
 useful for the understanding technical terms and the 
 first principles of the art. 
 
 I was not over fond of medicine ; but I durst not be 
 refractory, for I should have been then told that I wished 
 to do neither one thing nor another. 
 
 III. 
 
 I was naturally gay, but subject from my infancy to 
 hypochondriacal or melancholy vapors, which threw 
 a dark shade over my mind. Attacked with a violent 
 fit of this lethargic disease, I sought for relief but could 
 find none. The players were gone; Chiozza had no 
 longer any amusement to my taste ; I was discontented 
 with medicine, I became gloomy and thoughtful, and 
 fell away more and mere every day. My parents soon 
 perceived my state ; my mother was the first to ques- 
 tion me. I confided my uneasiness to her. One day, 
 when we were partaking of a family dinner without 
 strangers or the presence of servants, my mother turned 
 the conversation to me. There was a debate of two 
 hours. My father was absolutely resolved that 1 
 should apply to medicine. It was in vain for me to 
 agitate myself, make wry faces, and look gloomy, he 
 would not yield. My mother at length proved to my 
 father that he was wrong, and she did it in this way :
 
 60 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 "The -Marquis Goldoni," said she, " wishes to take 
 our child under his care. If Charles be a good physi- 
 cian, his protector may favor him, it is true ; but can 
 he give him patients ? Can he persuade people to pre- 
 fer him to so many others ? He may procure him the 
 place of professor in the University of Paviaj but then, 
 what an immense time and labor before he can get it ; 
 whereas if my son were to study law and become an 
 advocate, it would be easy for a senator of Milan to 
 make Ins fortune without the smallest trouble or diffi- 
 culty.-' 
 
 My father made no answer : he remained silent for a 
 few minutes. At length, turning to me, he said jocu- 
 larly : "Would you like the Code and Digest of Justin- 
 ian ?" "Yes, father," I replied, "a great deal better 
 than the Aphorisms of Hippocrates." "Your mother," 
 said he, "is a sensible woman; her reasons are good, 
 and I may acquiesce in them: but in the mean time 
 you must not remain idle, but continue to accompany 
 me." I was still therefore where I was. My mother 
 then took up my cause with warmth. She advised my 
 father to send me to Venice and settle me with my 
 uncle Indric, one of the best attorneys of the capital, 
 and she proposed to accompany me herself and to re- 
 main with me there till my departure for Pavia. My 
 aunt supported her sisters project. I held up my 
 hands and wept for joy. My father consented, and I 
 was to go instantly to Venice. I was now contented, 
 and my vapors were immediately dissipated. Four 
 days afterwards my mother and myself took our de- 
 parture. We had but a passage of eight leagues, and 
 we arrived at Venice at the hour of dinner. We went 
 to lodge with M. Bertani, a maternal uncle of my 
 mother ; and next day we called on M. Indric, by
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 61 
 
 whom we were very politely received. M. Paul Indric 
 had married my paternal aunt. It was a charming 
 
 family : a good husband and father, a goorl mother and 
 wife, and children excellently brought up. I was en- 
 tered in the office. I was the fourth clerk, but I en- 
 joyed certain privileges which my consanguinity could 
 not fail to procure me. 
 
 My present occupation was more agreeable than 
 that under my father at Chiozza : but the one seemed 
 as useless to me as the other. Supposing that I should 
 be called to the bar at Milan, I could derive no advan- 
 tage from the practice of that at Venice, which is un- 
 known to all the rest of Italy. It was impossible to 
 foresee that by a series of singular adventures I should 
 one day plead in the courts where I then considered 
 myself a stranger. Discharging my duty with accu- 
 racy, and meriting my uncle's praise, I contrived never- 
 theless to avail myself of the pleasures of a residence 
 at Venice and to partake of its amusements. It was 
 my native place : but I was too young when I quitted 
 it to know anything of it again. 
 
 Venice is so extraordinary a city that it is impos- 
 sible to form a correct idea of it without seeing it. 
 Maps, plans, models, and descriptions are insufficient ; 
 it must be seen. All other .cities bear more or less 
 resemblance to one another, but Venice resembles 
 none ; and every time I have seen it after a long ab- 
 sence it has been a new subject of astonishment and 
 surprise for me. As I advanced in years, and my 
 knowledge increased and furnished me with more nu- 
 merous objects of comparison, I ever discovered new 
 singularities and new beauties in it. But I then saw 
 it as a youth of fifteen, who could not be supposed to 
 be struck with what in reality was the most remark-
 
 62 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 able, and who could only compare it with the small 
 towns which he had lived in. What I was most as- 
 tonished at was the surprising view which it presents 
 on a first approach. On seeing the extent of small 
 islands so close together and so admirably connected 
 by bridges, we imagine we behold a continent elevated 
 on a plain and washed on every side by an immense 
 sea which surrounds it. This is nut the sea, but a 
 very extensive marsh more or less covered with water 
 at the mouths of several ports with deep canals, 
 which admit large and small vessels into the town 
 and its environs. If you enter by the quarter of St. 
 Mark through a prodigious quantity of vessels of every 
 description, ships of war, merchantmen, frigates, gal- 
 leys, barks, boats, and gondolas, you land at the Piaz- 
 zetta (Small Place), where in one direction you see the 
 palace and the ducal church, which announce the 
 magnificence of the republic, and in another, the 
 place or square of St. Mark, surrounded with porticos 
 from designs by Palladio and Sansovino. In going 
 through the streets where haberdashery goods are sold, 
 you tread on flags of Istrian marble, carefully rough- 
 ened by the chisel to prevent their being slippery. 
 The whole quarter is a perpetual fair till you arrive at 
 the bridge of a single arch, ninety feet in breadth over 
 the great canal, which, from its elevation, allows the 
 passage of barks and boats in the highest tides, which 
 offers three different roads to passengers and which 
 upholds twenty-four shops with lodgings, the roofs of 
 which are covered with lead. This view, I own, ap- 
 peared surprising to me; and I have not found it 
 properly described by travellers. I ask my reader's 
 pardon if my fondness has got the better of me. 
 I shall not say more at present ; but I shall take
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 63 
 
 the liberty of giving some idea of the manners and 
 customs of Venire, its laws ami constitution, when 
 circumstances shall lead me to the subject, and when 
 my knowledge may he supposed to have obtained more 
 consistency and precision. I shall conclude this notice 
 with a succinct account of its spectacles. In Italy 
 their places of public amusement are called theatres. 
 There are seven in Venice, each bearing the name of 
 the titular church of its parish. The theatre of St. 
 John Chrysostoin was then the first in the town, 
 where the grand operas were represented, where Me- 
 tastasio opened his dramatic, and Farinello, Faustiue, 
 and Cozzoni, their musical career. At present the 
 theatre of St. Benedict is highest in rank. The six 
 other theatres are called St. Samuel, St. Luke, St. 
 Angelo, St. Cassian, and St. Moses. Of these seven, 
 two are generally dedicated to grand operas, two 
 to eomic operas, and three to plays. I shall ad- 
 vert more particularly to all of them when I become 
 an author, in the manner of that country: for there 
 are none of them which have not had works of 
 mine, and which have nut contributed both to my 
 honor and profit. 
 
 I acquitted myself tolerably well in my employment 
 with the attorney at Venice. I possessed great facility 
 in giving a summary and abstract of a law-suit, and 
 my ancle would fain have kept me. but I was recalled 
 by a letter from my father. The situation in the 
 Pope's College had become vacant, and was kepi open 
 for me. The Marquis Goldoni communicated the cir- 
 cumstance to us, ami advised us to lose no time in setting 
 out. My mother and myself quitted Venice and re- 
 turned to Chiozza. My trunks were ready and corded, 
 my mother and my aunt in tears. My brother, who
 
 64 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 had been taken home, wished to accompany me. The 
 separation was highly pathetic; but the chaise ar- 
 rived, and we were obliged to part. 
 
 We took the road of Rovigo and Ferrara, and 
 arrived at Modena, where we remained three days in 
 the house of M. Zavarisi, a very respectable notary in 
 that town, and a near relation of ours by the mother's 
 side. This worthy man had all my father's affairs in 
 hand. He drew our government annuities and our 
 house-rents, and, having supplied us with money, we 
 went to Piacenza. My father, when there, took care 
 to visit his cousin Barilli, who had not altogether ful- 
 filled his engagements. He contrived to make him 
 discharge the arrears of the two years which were 
 owing, so that we were now tolerably well stocked 
 with ready money, which turned out very useful to us 
 in the unforeseen circumstances in which we were 
 afterwards placed. 
 
 On arriving at Milan, we lodged at the inn of the 
 Three Kings, and the day following we went to pay 
 our visit to the Marquis Goldoni. It is impossible 
 to be better received than we were. My protector 
 seemed satisfied with me, and I was perfectly so with 
 him. The college was spoken of, and the day was 
 even fixed for my making my appearance in Pavia ; 
 but the marquis, on looking more attentively at me, 
 asked my father and myself why I was in a lay dress, 
 and why I did not wear the clerical band (petit collet). 
 We were quite at a loss to know what he meant. At 
 length we learned for the first time that to enter the 
 College of Ghislieri, called the Pope's College, it was 
 essentially necessary, first, that those who held exhi- 
 bitions should be tonsured ; secondly, that they should 
 have a certificate of their civil situation and their
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 65 
 
 moral conduct ; thirdly, another certificate of their not 
 being married ; and fourthly, a certificate of haptisin. 
 My father and myself were quite thunderstruck, for all 
 this was new to us. The senator conceived that we 
 ought to have been informed of it, for he had in- 
 structed his secretary to transmit us a note on the 
 subject ; but this note was still remaining in his bu- 
 reau. This occasioned a number of excuses and a 
 number of entreaties for pardon on the part of the sec- 
 retary. The master was kind, and we should have 
 gained nothing in being cross. 
 
 But it was necessary to remedy the mistake. My 
 father resolved to write to his wife. She went imme- 
 diately to Venice, and set on foot every species of 
 solicitation. The certificates of celibacy and good 
 morals were easily procured, and the baptismal certifi- 
 cate still more so ; but the great embarrassment was 
 the tonsure, as the patriarch of Venice would not 
 grant dimissorial letters without the constitution of 
 the patrimony ordained by the canons of the church. 
 What was to be done ? The property of my father 
 was not situated in the Venetian dominions, and my 
 mother's was entailed. We were obliged to apply to 
 the senate for a dispensation. What delays, contra- 
 dictions, and loss of time ! The senatorial secretary 
 made us pay dear for his excuses and his blunders. 
 There was nothing but patience for us. My mother 
 gave herself a deal of trouble, and she was at length 
 successful ; but while she was laboring for her son at 
 Venice, what were we about at Milan ? 
 
 We remained fifteen days at Milan, dining and sup- 
 ping every day with my protector, who showed us 
 everything magnificent in th.it city, which is the capital 
 of Austrian Lombardy. I shall say nothing at present
 
 66 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of Milan. I have to return to it ; and I shall speak 
 more at large concerning it when I shall be more 
 qualified to handle the subject. In the mean time my 
 cr.stume was changed, and I wore the clerical band. 
 We set out at length for Pa via, well provided with 
 letters 'of recommendation. We lodged and boarded 
 in the house of one of the towns-people, and I was 
 introduced to the superior of the college where I was 
 to be received. We had a letter from Senator Goldoni 
 fur M. Lauzio, professor of law; who himself con- 
 ducted me to the university. I followed him into his 
 class, and did not lose my time waiting for my title of 
 collegian. 
 
 M. Lauzio was a jurisconsult of the greatest merit. 
 He possessed a very rich library, to which I had free 
 access as well as to his table. His wife was very kind 
 to me. She was still young enough, and must have 
 been pretty, but she was terribly disfigured by a mon- 
 strous goitre which descended from her chin to her 
 breast. These ornaments are by no means rare at 
 Milan and Bergamo ; but that of Madame Lauzio was 
 altogether particular in its kind, for it had a small 
 family of little .goitres around it. The small-pox is 
 certainly a great scourge for women ; but I know no 
 young woman pitted with the small-pox who would 
 exchange her scars for a Milanese goitre. 
 
 I derived great profit from the professor's library. 
 I ran over the institutes of Roman law, and fur- 
 nished my head with the matters for which I was 
 destined. I did not always confine myself -to juris- 
 prudence. There were shelves filled with a collection 
 of ancient and modern comedies, which were my favor- 
 ite reading. I resolved to divide my time between the 
 study of law and the perusal of comedies during the
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 67 
 
 whole period of my stay at Pavia; but my entry into 
 the college was the occasion of more dissipation than 
 application ; and I did well to profit by the three 
 months in which I waited for my dimissorial letters 
 and certificates from Venice. I reread with more 
 knowledge and greater pleasure the Greek and Latin 
 poets, and I said to myself, I wish it were in my power 
 to imitate them in their plans, their style, and their 
 precision ; but I should not be well pleased if I did not 
 throw more interest into my works, more marked char- 
 acters, more of the vis comica, and bring about a more 
 successful termination of the plot. 
 
 " Facile inventis addere." 
 
 We ought to respect the great masters who have 
 paved the way for us in science and art ; but every 
 age has its peculiar genius, and every climate its na- 
 tional taste. The Greek and Roman authors were 
 acquainted with Nature, and closely copied her; but 
 they exposed her unveiled and without restraint. It 
 was on this account that the fathers of the church 
 wrote against plays, and that the popes excommuni- 
 cated them. They have been corrected by decency, 
 and the anathema has been recalled in Italy. It 
 deserves much more to be recalled in France ; and 
 that it is not so is a phenomenon which I cannot 
 comprehend. 
 
 Rummaging about in this library, I saw English, 
 Spanish, and French theatres; but I found no Italian 
 theatre. There were here and there old Italian pieces, 
 but no collection which could do honor to Italy. It 
 was with pain I saw that the nation which was ac- 
 quainted with the dramatic art before every other in 
 modern times, was deficient in something essential. I
 
 68 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 could not conceive how Italy had in this respect grown 
 negligent, vulgar, and degenerate. I passionately de- 
 sired to see my country rise to the level of others, and 
 I vowed to endeavor to contribute to it. 
 
 But I now received a letter from Venice, with the 
 diinissorials, certificates, and baptismal extract. The 
 latter was on the point of plunging us into a new em- 
 barrassment. I was two years under the age requi- 
 site for my reception into the college. I know not to 
 what saint I was beholden for the miracle ; but I do 
 know well, that I went to bed one night only sixteen, 
 and rose next morning two years older. My mother 
 had address enough to remedy the want of patrimony 
 necessary to obtain the dimissorial letters from the pa- 
 triarch of Venice; they were ordered to be issued by 
 M. Cavanis, a secretary of the senate, on the condi- 
 tion that if I embraced the ecclesiastical state, a rev- 
 enue should be constituted in my favor. I received 
 then the tonsure from the hands of Cardinal Cusani, 
 archbishop of Pavia ; and I went with my father on 
 leaving his eminence's chapel, to present myself in the 
 college. The superior, called prefect, was the Abbé 
 Bernerio, professor of canon law in the university, and 
 apostolical prothonotary, and in virtue of a bull of 
 Pius V. he enjoyed the title of prelate, immediately 
 subject to the holy seat. I was received by the prefect, 
 vice-prefect, and almoner. They delivered to me a 
 short sermon, and introduced me to the oldest of the 
 scholars. I was then installed. My father embraced 
 and quitted me, and next day he took the road for 
 Milan on his way home. 
 
 Perhaps, my dear reader, I abuse your complaisance 
 too much, in taking up your time with trifles, which 
 can but little interest or amuse you; but I have a
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 69 
 
 strong desire to mention this college to you, where I 
 ought to have made my fortune, and where I met with 
 a sad reverse. I wish to avow my errors, and to prove 
 to you at the same time that at my age and in my sit- 
 uation the utmost virtue was requisite to avoid them. 
 Listen to me with patience. We were very well fed 
 and lodged in this college ; we had liberty to go out to 
 the university, and we went where we pleased. The 
 regulation allowed two to go ont together, who were 
 also to return together. We separated at the first 
 turning, after appointing a rendezvous for our return, 
 and when we returned alone, the porter took his 
 money and said nothing. His place was worth that 
 of the porter of a minister of state. We were as ele- 
 gantly dressed as the abbes who figure away in the 
 world; English cloth, French silk, embroidery, lace, 
 with a sort of robe-de-chamhre, without sleeves above 
 the coat, and a velvet stole fastened to the left shoulder 
 with the Ghislieri arms embroidered in gold and silver, 
 surmounted by the pontifical tiara, and the keys of 
 St. Peter. This robe, called sovrana, which is the 
 device of the college, gives an air of importance to the 
 wearer very well calculated to inspire a young man 
 with a high idea of himself. Our college was uot. as 
 you may perceive, a community of boys. We acted 
 precisely as we pleased. There was a great deal of . 
 dissipation within, and a great deal of freedom with- 
 out. I learned there fencing, dancing, music, and 
 drawing; and I learned also all possible games of 
 commerce and chance. The latter were prohibited, 
 but they were not the less played, and that of primero 
 cost me dear. 
 
 On going out, we looked at the university at a dis- 
 tance, and contrived to find our way into the most
 
 70 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 agreeable houses. Hence the collegians at Pavia are 
 viewed by the towns-people in the light of officers in 
 garrison towns ; they are detested by the men and 
 received by the women. My Venetian jargon was 
 agreeable to the ladies, and gave me some advantage 
 over my comrades ; my age and figure were not un- 
 pleasing, and my couplets and songs were by no means 
 ill relished. Was it my fault that I did not employ 
 my time well ! Yes ; for among the forty which our 
 number consisted of, there were several wise and con- 
 siderate individuals, whom I ought to have imitated ; 
 but I was only sixteen, I was gay, weak, fond of pleas- 
 ure, and I yielded to temptation. But enough for my 
 first year of college; the holidays are approaching; 
 they begin about the end of June, and terminate with 
 October. 
 
 IV. 
 Four months of vacation ! Sixty leagues from home, 
 and the same distance returning ! We paid no board 
 in this college, but such an expense was by no means 
 a matter of indifférence. I might have boarded myself 
 in Pavia, but no student remained there who did not 
 belong to the place. The sovrana is not then worn ; 
 and not having the Pope's arms on our shoulder.-, it 
 • was to be feared lest the towns-people of Pavia should 
 contest with us certain rights of preference which we 
 had always been accustomed to enjoy. 
 
 I was certain, besides, that my mother would be 
 highly delighted to see me. I resolved, therefore, to 
 take my departure; and, being short of money. I went 
 by water, having for servant and guide a brother of 
 the butler of the college. The voyage was in no way 
 remarkable. I quitted Chiozza in a secular dress, and
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 71 
 
 returned in an ecclesiastical one. My band was not 
 much calculated to inspire devotion; but my mother, 
 who was piously inclined, imagined she was receiv- 
 ing au apostle. She embraced me withH certain de- 
 gree of considération, and requested me to correct my 
 brother, who was causing her some uneasiness. He 
 was a very impatient and unruly lad, who absented 
 himself from school for the sake of fishing, and who at 
 eleven years of age fought like a devil, and cared for 
 nobody. My father, who knew him well, destined 
 him for a soldier ; but my mother wished to make a 
 monk of him, and this was a subject of continua} dis- 
 pute betwixt them. I troubled myself very little about 
 my brother. I sought for amusement, and found none. 
 Chiozza appeared to me more dirty than ever. I had 
 formerly a small library, and I looked for my old Ci- 
 eognini, of which I could find but a part, my brother 
 having used the rest in making papers for his hair. 
 
 The Canon Gennari was still the friend of the family. 
 My father had cured him of all the diseases which af- 
 flicted him, real and imaginary; and he was more 
 frequently with us than at home. I requested him to 
 procure me some books, but of the dramatic kind if 
 possible. The good canon was not himself over- 
 stocked with literature, but he promised, however, to 
 do what he could for me; and he kept his word. He 
 brought me, a few days afterwards, an old comedy, 
 bound in parchment, and, without taking the trouble 
 of looking into it, he gave it to me, on my promise t" 
 return it instantly, for he had taken it, without saying 
 anything, from the closet of one of his brethren. It 
 was the Mandragora of Machiavel. I was not ac- 
 quainted with it, but had heard of it, and knew very 
 well that it was not the most chaste production in the
 
 72 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 world. I devoured it on the first reading, and I pe- 
 rused it at least ten times afterwards. My mother 
 paid no attention to the hook I was reading, for I had 
 received it from an ecclesiastic ; hut my father surprised 
 me one day in my room while I was making notes and 
 remarks on the Mandragora. He knew the piece, and 
 was aware how dangerous it was for a young man of 
 seventeen. He insisted on knowing from whom I got 
 it, and I told him. He lectured me severely, and 
 quarrelled with the poor canon, who had merely sinned 
 through inadvertency. 
 
 I had very good and very solid reasons to urge as an 
 excuse to my father, but lie would not listen to me. It 
 was neither the free style nor the scandalous intrigue 
 of the piece which fascinated me; its lubricity even 
 disgusted me, and I could perceive that the abuse of 
 confession was a heinous crime both in the eye of God 
 and man ; but it was the first comedy of character 
 which had ever fallen into my hands, and I was quite 
 enchanted with it. How desirable it would have been, 
 had the Italian authors continued, after this comedy, 
 to give decent and respectable pieces, and to draw 
 their characters from nature instead of the romantic 
 intrigues in which they indulged. But the honor of 
 ennobling comedy, and making it subservient to pur- 
 poses of utility, by exposing vice and absurdity to 
 derision and correction, was reserved for Molière. I 
 was yet unacquainted with this great man, for I knew 
 nothing of French. I proposed, however, to learn it, 
 and in the mean time I accustomed myself to consider 
 men closely, and to remark every appearance of origi- 
 nality of character. 
 
 The holidays were now drawing to an end, and my 
 departure became necessary. An abbe of our acquaint-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 73 
 
 ance was going to Modena, and my father availed 
 himself of the opportunity. He was the more disposed 
 to make me take that road, as I was to, he supplied 
 with money in Modena. My companion and myself 
 embarked with the courier of .Modena. We arrived in 
 two days, and went to Lodge with one of my father's 
 tenants who let furnished Lodgings. 
 
 I had enough to pay the expenses of posting to 
 Pa via; but not finding my cousin Zavarisi at Modena, 
 who had orders to supply me with some money, I 
 should have been quite destitute on reaching college, 
 where those who have exhibitions require a purse for 
 their pocket expenses. I arrived in the evening of the 
 same day at Piacenza.' I had a letter of recommenda- 
 tion from my father for Counsellor Barilli, whom I ac- 
 cordingly visited, and who received me very politely. 
 He offered to lodge me in his house; an offer which I 
 very properly accepted. He was indisposed and de- 
 sir »U8 of repose, and I was equally so, — so that we 
 made a hasty supper and went early to bed. Reflect- 
 ing seriously on my situation, I was tempted to borrow 
 a hundred crowns from my dear relation, who appeared 
 so good and kind to me; but he no longer owed any- 
 thing to my father, having paid him even before the 
 two last instalments became due: and I was afraid lest 
 my age, and my quality of scholar, should appear by 
 no means calculated to inspire him with confidence in 
 me. 
 
 In this state of irresolution and apprehension, I went 
 to bed: but thank Heaven! neither embarrassments 
 nor chagrins nor reflections have ever destroyed my 
 appetite or disturbed my repuse : and I slept soundly. 
 Next morning the counsellor sent to inquire whether I 
 would breakfast with him. I was completely dressed,
 
 74 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and on descending I found everything ready. My 
 landlord had a dish of soup, and there was a cup of 
 chocolate for me ; and. breakfasting and talking to- 
 gether, the conversation became at last interesting. 
 " My dear child."' said he, "I am old, I have had a 
 dangerous attack, and I expect every day the orders of 
 Providence to take my leave of this world." I was 
 proceeding to say those kind things which are usually 
 uttered in such cases; Lut he interrupted me. " No 
 flattery, my friend : we are horn to die. and my career 
 is far advanced. I have satisfied your father," he con- 
 tinued, "for the remainder of the dower which was 
 due from my family to his ; but on searching among 
 my papers and the accounts of my domestic concerns, 
 I have found an account opened between M. Goldoni 
 your grandfather, and myself." " heavens," said I to 
 myself, u do we then owe him anything I " ''I have made 
 every examination," added the counsellor; " I have 
 compared letters and books, and I am certain that I 
 still owe a sum to his heirs." I began now to breathe, 
 and I wished to speak, but he still interrupted me and 
 continued his discourse. " I should not like to die," 
 said he, " without discharging it. I have heirs who 
 only wait for my death to dissipate the property which 
 I have saved for them, and your father would have 
 some difficulty in procuring payment. Ah ! if he were 
 here," continued he, " with what pleasure would I give 
 him the money ! " 
 
 '• Sir." said I, with an air of importance, " I am his 
 son ; ' Pater et filins censentur una et eadem persona ' ; 
 so says Justinian, as you know better than I do." 
 "Aha!" said he, "you are studying law then?" 
 " Yes, sir," said I : "and I shall be a licentiate in a 
 short time; I shall go to Milan, where I mean to fol-
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 75 
 
 low the profession of advocate." He looked at me, 
 and smiled ; and then asked me my age. I was a little 
 embarrassed, for my certificate of baptism and my re- 
 ception in the college did not tally. I answered, how- 
 ever, with assurance and without violation of truth : 
 " I have in my pocket, sir, the letters-patent of my 
 college ; would you wish to look at them ? You will 
 see that I was past eighteen when I was received, and 
 this is my second year; eighteen and two are twenty. 
 and I am close on my twenty-first year : ' Annus in- 
 ceptus habetur pro completo ' : and, according to the 
 Venetian code, majority is attained at twenty-one." 
 (I tried to perplex matters, but I was only nineteen.) 
 M. Barilli, however, was not to be duped. He clearly 
 saw that I was still in my minority, and that he should 
 be risking his money. He had, however, a recom- 
 mendation from my father in my favor, and why was 
 he to suppose me capable of deceiving him ? But he 
 changed the discourse : he next asked me why I had 
 not followed the profession of my nit her, and no longer 
 talked of money. I answered, that I had no taste for 
 medicine ; and immediately recurring to what was up- 
 permost in my mind, u Might I ask you, sir," said 
 I, " what is the amount of the sum you owe my 
 father I n " Two thousand lire of this country; the 
 money is in that drawer." Still, however, he did 
 not touch it. " Sir," added I, with a degree of curi- 
 osity somewhat keen, " is it in gold or silver ? " 
 "It is in gold," said he, " in sequins of Florence, 
 which, after those of Venice, are in the greatest re- 
 quest. They ar<- very convenient for carrying. Would 
 you," said he, with a waggish air, "take the charge 
 of them ? " " With the greatest pleasure, sir," replied 
 I, " I shall give you a receipt, I shall inform my father,
 
 7(3 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and account to him for it." " Will you dissipate it ? " 
 said he ; "will you dissipate this money?" "Alas! 
 sir." replied I, with vivacity, "you do not know me; 
 I assure you, I am incapable of a bad action; the 
 almoner of the college is the treasurer whom my father 
 has appointed for my little revenue: and upon my 
 honor, sir, on reaching Pavia. I shall place the sequins 
 in the hands of this worthy abbé." 
 
 " Well, well." said he. " I shall rely on your honesty : 
 write me a discharge agreeably to this draft which 
 I have prepared." I took the pen : M. Barilli opened 
 his drawer and spread out the sequins on the desk. T 
 looked at them with an eye of affection. " Stop,'' said 
 he, u I forgot you are travelling, and there are robbers." 
 I remarked that I travelled post, and that there was 
 nothing to apprehend. He was of a different opinion, 
 however, and continued to insist on the danger. I 
 brought in my guide, the brother of the butler, and 
 then M. Barilli appeared satisfied. He delivered a 
 lecture to both of us. I still trembled. At last he 
 gave me the money, and I was consoled for everything. 
 The counsellor and myself dined together, and after 
 dinner the horses arrived. I took my leave, and set 
 out for Pavia. Scarcely had I entered the town, when 
 I went to deposit the sequins in the hands of my treas- 
 urer. I asked six for myself, which he gave )ne, and 
 I continued to manage the remainder of the sum so 
 well, that I had enough for the whole season at college 
 and my expenses home. 
 
 This year I was somewhat less dissipated than the 
 former. I attended to my lessons at the university, 
 and seldom accepted the parties of pleasure to which I 
 was invited. 
 
 In October and in November four of my companions
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 77 
 
 wore licentiated. In Italy no ceremony can take place 
 without the decoration of a sonnet. I was supposed 
 to possess a faculty of versification, and -had become 
 the panegyrist of the deserving and undeserving. Dur- 
 ing the Christinas holidays the Marquis Groldoni came 
 to Pavia, at the head of a commission from the senate 
 of Milan, to investigate a canal in the district of Pavia, 
 which had become tin- subject of several lawsuits, and 
 he did me the honor of taking me with him. Six days 
 afterwards I returned to the college, quite proud of the 
 distinction I had received. This piece of ostentation 
 was highly injurious to me: it excited the envy of my 
 companions, who from that moment, perhaps, medi- 
 tated the revenge which they took the following year. 
 
 When the holidays came. I was desirous of passing 
 them at Milan ; but two countrymen of my own whom 
 I met by chance in a tennis-court induced me to alter 
 my determination. These were the secretary and 
 maître d'hôtel of the resident of the republic of Venice 
 at Milan. This minister (M. Salvioni) having quitted 
 this life, it became necessary for his suite and equipages 
 to return to Venice; and the two persons in question 
 were at Pavia for the purpose of hiring a covered 
 barge, in which they offered to give me a place. They 
 assured me that the society would be delightful, that I 
 should want neither for good cheer, play, nor excellent 
 music, and all gratis. Could I refuse such an oppor- 
 tunity .' 
 
 When the company was ready to set off. I was Bent 
 for; I repaired to the banks of the Ticino, and en- 
 tered the covered barge where all were assembled. 
 Nothing could be more convenient or more elegant 
 than this small vessel, called burchiello, and which 
 had been sent for expressly from Venice. There was
 
 78 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a roomy apartment and an antechamber covered over 
 with wood, surmounted with a balustrade, lighted up 
 on both sides, and adorned with glasses, paintings, 
 and engravings, and fitted up with cupboards, benches, 
 and chairs, in the first stylo of convenience. It was 
 a very different affair from the bark of the comedians 
 of Rimini. 
 
 We were in all ten masters and a number of do- 
 mestics. There were beds under the prow and under 
 the poop; but we travelled only by day; and it was 
 decided that we should sleep in good inns, or when 
 we could find none, that we were to demand hospi- 
 tality from the rich Benedictines who are in the pos- 
 session of immense property alone: the two banks of the 
 Po. All these gentlemen played on some instrument. 
 We had three violins, a violoncello, two oboes, a 
 French horn, and a guitar. I was the only person 
 who was good for nothing. I was ashamed of it, and 
 by way of remedying my want of ability, I employed 
 myself two hours every day in putting in verse, either 
 good or bad, the anecdotes and agreeable adventures 
 of the preceding day. This piece of complaisance 
 Avas productive of great pleasure to my travelling 
 companions, and served to amuse us after our coffee. 
 Music was their favorite occupation. At the close 
 of day they ranged themselves on a sort of deck 
 which formed the roof of our floating habitation, and, 
 making the air resound with their harmony, they 
 attracted from all quarters the nymphs and shep- 
 herds of this river, which was the grave of Phaeton. 
 Perhaps, my dear reader, you will be incliued to 
 observe that I am a little pompous here. It may be 
 so ; but this is the way I painted our serenade in my 
 verses. The fact is, that the banks of the Po (called
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 79 
 
 by the Italian poets the king of floods) was lined with 
 all the inhabitants of the environs, who came in 
 crowds to hear us. The display of hats and hand- 
 kerchiefs in the air was a sufficient indication of their 
 pleasure and their applause. 
 
 We arrived at Cremona at six o'clock in the even- 
 ing. The inhabitants had got notice that we were to 
 pass through that place : and the banks of the river 
 were filled with people awaiting our arrival. We 
 landed ; we were received with transports of joy. 
 We were ushered into a superb house which was 
 partly in the town and partly in the country. We 
 gave a concert, and the musicians of the town added 
 to the pleasure. We had a splendid supper, danced 
 the whole night, and. with the sun, returned to our 
 barge, where we found our mattresses delicious. The 
 same scene nearly was repeated at Piacenza. Stellada, 
 and at the Bottrigues, in the house of the Marquis 
 Tassoni; and in this manner, amidst every species of 
 delight and amusement, we arrived at Chiozza. where 
 I was to separate from the most amiable and inter- 
 esting society in the world. My companions were 
 friendly enough to accompany me. I introduced them 
 to my father, who thanked them most sincerely, and 
 even urged them to sup with him, but they wished to 
 reach Venice that evening. They asked me for the 
 verses which I had composed on our voyage. I re- 
 quested time to make a fair copy of them. Ï promised 
 t" stud them, and I kept my word. 
 
 My mother had formed an acquaintance with a 
 Donna Maria-Elizabetta Bonaldi. a nun of the convent 
 of Sr. Francis, sister of M. Bonaldi. advocate and 
 notary, of Venice. They had received in this convent, 
 from Rome, a relic of their seraphic founder, which
 
 80 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was to be exposed with pomp and edification. For 
 this purpose a sermon was requisite, and Donna Bo- 
 naldi, on the faith of my clerical habiliments, believed 
 me moralist, theologian, and orator. She was the pro- 
 tector of a young abbé, graceful in manner, and pos- 
 sessed of a good memory : and she entreated of me to 
 compose a sermon and confide it to her protege, being 
 sure that he would deliver it admirably. I at first 
 sought to be excused, but afterwards reflecting that 
 the panegyric of Pius V. was delivered every year in 
 my college, and was composed by one of the students, 
 I accepted this opportunity of exercising myself in an 
 art which did not appear to me very difficult. I com- 
 posed my sermon in fifteen days. The little abbé 
 committed it to memory, and delivered it as well as an 
 old practised preacher could have done. The sermon 
 produced the greatest effect : the audience wept, ap- 
 plauded, and kept sideling upon their chairs. The 
 orator grew warm, and worked away with his hands 
 and feet. On this the applause increased, and the poor 
 devil was quite exhausted. He called for- silence from 
 the pulpit : and silence immediately ensued. It was 
 known that I composed it, and the compliments and 
 happy presages were numberless. I had highly flat- 
 tered the nuns, and turned the discourse on them in a 
 delicate manner, ascribing to them the possession of 
 every virtue unblemished by bigotry (I knew them, 
 and was well aware that they were not bigots) ; and 
 this was the means of procuring me a magnificent pres- 
 ent in embroidery, lace, and sweetmeats. The labor 
 of my sermon and the discussions which followed occu- 
 pied me so long that my holidays had nearly expired. 
 My father wrote to Venice for a carriage to convey me 
 to Milan. An opportunity immediately occurred. My
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 81 
 
 father and myself went to Padua, where there was 
 a return chaise for Milan. The driver was known 
 and could be relied on ; and I set out alone in his 
 chaise. 
 
 I alighted at the Marquis Gtoldoni's, and remained 
 there six days, till the »nd of the holidays. The con- 
 versation of my protector was altogether calculated to 
 inspire me with hope and ardor. I believed myself 
 on the very pinnacle of good fortune, while I stood 
 on the verge of ruin. 
 
 Y. 
 
 I learned at Milan the death of the superior of my 
 college, and I was acquainted with the Abbé Scara- 
 belli, his successor. On my arrival at Pavia, I imme- 
 diately paid my respects to the new prefect, who was 
 very intimate with Senator Goldoni, and who assured 
 me of his good wishes. I also visited the new dean 
 of the students, who, after the usual ceremonies, asked 
 me if I wished to maintain my civil-law thesis this 
 year. He added that it was my turn, but that if I 
 was not particularly desirous, he should like to pass 
 another in my place. I told him very frankly that as 
 my turn was eome, I had good reasons for availing 
 myself of it. as I was anxious to finish my course and 
 settle at Milan. The same day I requested the prefect 
 to have the goodness to cause lots to be drawn to ascer- 
 tain the points I had to defend. The day was fixed ; 
 the articles were destined for me ; and I was to main- 
 tain my thesis daring the Christmas holidays. Every- 
 thing went on charmingly, and I was considered a 
 spirited young man, desirous of acquiring honor. In 
 the meau time some amusement was necessary. Two
 
 82 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 days afterwards I went out for the purpose of paying 
 visits ; and I began with the house which I was fond- 
 est of. I rang the bell (in Italy there are no porters) 
 and, on the door being opened, I was told that the lady 
 of the house was sick, and that her daughter received 
 no visits. I was sorry for this, and a number of com- 
 pliments passed on both sides. I went to another door, 
 and. on seeing the servant, asked if I could have the 
 honor of seeing the ladies. "They are all in the 
 country, sir" (and yet I had seen two female heads 
 at the window). As I could make nothing of all this, 
 I went to a third place, and still nobody was at home. 
 I own that I was very much piqued, that I believed 
 myself insulted, and I could not conjecture the cause. 
 I resolved, however, not to expose myself to any more 
 of those unpleasant occurrences, and with a troubled 
 mind and enraged heart I returned home. 
 
 In the evening I related, at the fireside where the 
 students generally assembled, with an air of greater 
 indifference than I really felt, the adventure which I 
 had experienced. Some pitied me and others laughed 
 at me. On the arrival of the supper hour, we entered 
 the refectory, and afterwards withdrew to our respective 
 rooms. While 1 was musing on the unpleasant circum- 
 stances which I had experienced, I heard a knocking 
 at my .door, and four of my comrades immediately 
 entered, who told me they had something serious to 
 communicate to me. As I had not a sufficient number 
 of chairs for them, we made a settee of the bed. I 
 willingly prepared to listen to them ; but all four 
 wished to speak at once; each had his story to tell, 
 and each his opinion to give. The following is the 
 substance of what I could gather from their account. 
 
 The towns-people of Pa via were sworn enemies to
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 83 
 
 the students, and, during the last holidays, they had 
 entered into a conspiracy against us. It was agreed 
 on at their meetings, that any girl who received the 
 visits of a student should never be askedjhi marriage 
 by a townsman, and a resolution to this purpose was 
 signed by forty of them. This resolution had been 
 circulated in every house ; the mothers and daughters 
 had taken the alarm, and the students had all of a 
 sudden become a dangerous object in their eyes. The 
 general opinion of my four companions was in favor 
 of revenge. I had no yreat desire to interfere in the 
 business ; but they treated me as a coward and a pol- 
 troon, and 1 was foolish enough to consider my honor 
 at stake, and to promise not to quit the party. 
 
 I imagined I was speaking to four friends ; but they 
 were traitors who ardently desired my ruin. They 
 still entertained a grudge against me for the affair of 
 the preceding year, and they had nourished hatred 
 against me for a whole twelvemonth in their hearts, 
 and wished for nothing more than an occasion for giv- 
 ing vent to it. I was their dupe, but I had scarcely 
 entered my eighteenth year, and I had to do with old 
 foxes of twenty-eight and thirty. 
 
 These worthies were in the habit of carrying pistols 
 in their pockets, to the use of which I was an entire 
 stranger. They very generously furnished me with 
 them ; I thought them pretty, I delighted in handling 
 them, and my head was quite turned. I had fire-arms 
 on me and knew not what to do .with them. Could I 
 dare to force open a door ? Independently of the 
 danger of such an attempt, it would have been a viola- 
 tion of the rules of decency and respectability. I 
 wished to rid myself of this useless encumbrance ; my 
 good friends frequently came to visit me and renew the
 
 84 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 powder in the pan ; they recounted unheard-of feats of 
 courage, the obstacles which they had surmounted, the 
 rivals whom they had vanquished ; I, in my turn, had 
 also sprang over harriers, reduced mothers and daugh- 
 ters to subjection, and made head against the bravos 
 of the town ; we were all equally veridical, and all of 
 us perhaps equally brave. 
 
 When the traitors saw that notwithstanding my 
 pistols. I did nothing to draw attention towards me, 
 they went to work in a different way. An accusation 
 was lodged with the superiors against me of having 
 fire-arms in my pockets, and I was visited one day, on 
 entering the college, by the servants, who found my 
 pistols on me. The prefect of the college was not at 
 Pavia, and the vice-prefect ordered me to be confined 
 to my room under arrest. I was desirous of taking 
 advantage of this time to get on with my thesis, but 
 my pretended friends still came t<> tempt me, and to 
 employ more dangerous means of seduction, as they had 
 a tendency to tickle my self-love. 
 
 " You are a poet," said they; "and you have con- 
 sequently much more sure and efficacious instruments 
 for your revenge than pistols and other fire-arms : a 
 stroke of the pen, judiciously applied, is a bomb which 
 crushes the principal object, and of which the splinters 
 carry havoc right and left among the adherents." 
 "Courage! courage!" they all exclaimed at once; 
 "we shall furnish you with singular anecdotes, and 
 you will be revenged, and we also." I was quite aware 
 of the danger and inconveniences to which they wished 
 to expose me, and I represented to them the trouble- 
 some consequences which might be the result. " By 
 no means," said they; " nobody will know : we are all 
 four good friends, and men of honor; we promise to
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 85 
 
 observe the utmost discretion, and we are willing to 
 take a solemn and sacred oath that nobody shall ever 
 learn anything of the business." Constitutionally 
 weak, and occasionally foolish and imprudent, I yielded 
 to the temptation; and in thus satisfying the desires of 
 my enemies, I put arms in their hands against myself. 
 My first idea was to compose a comedy in the manner 
 of Aristophanes; but distrusting the sufficiency of my 
 powers, and being limited besides in point of time, I 
 composed an Atellano, a species of rude comedy among 
 the Romans, abounding in pleasantry and satire. The 
 title of my Atellano was the Colossus. That I might 
 give the perfection of beauty in all its proportions to 
 the colossal statue, I took the eyes of Miss .Such-a-one, 
 the mouth of another, the neck of a third, etc. ; but 
 the artists and amateurs were of different opinions, and 
 found defects everywhere. 
 
 This satire was calculated to wound the delicacy of 
 several decent and respectable families, and, unfortu- 
 nately for me, I contrived to give an interest to it by 
 amusing and attractive sallies, and by traits of that 
 vis comica, which in me had a great deal of nature 
 and very little prudence. My work was charming in 
 the opinion of my four enemies ; they immediately sent 
 for a young man who made two copies of it in one day, 
 which the knaves seized upon, and circulated in every 
 society and coffee-house of the town. My name was 
 not to be mentioned, the oaths of secrecy were reiter- 
 ated, and they kept their word, for my name was not 
 pronounced ; but having formerlycomposed a quatrain, 
 containing my name, surname, and country, they tacked 
 this quatrain to the tail of the Colossus, as if I had had 
 the audacity to boast of it. 
 
 The Atellano became the novelty of the day, and
 
 86 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 those who were not implicated iu it laughed at the 
 work, while they condemned the author. Twelve 
 families cried for vengeance, and my life was sought 
 after ; hut fortunately for me, I was still under arrest. 
 Several of my companious were insulted; the Pope's 
 College was hesieged ; the prefect was written to, who 
 returned precipitately, and, wishing to save me, wrote 
 immediately to the Senator Goldoni. The latter de- 
 spatched letters to the Senator Erba Odescalchi, governor 
 of Pavia ; the archbishop from whom I had received 
 the tonsure was applied to in my favor, as well as the 
 Marquis Ghislieri, by whom I was named ; but all my 
 protections, and all manner of proceedings were use- 
 less; my sacrifice was inevitable, and had it not been 
 for the privilege of the place in which I was, I should 
 have been laid hold of by the ministers of justice. My 
 exclusion from college was announced to me, and I was 
 detained till the storm was calmed, that I might take 
 my departure without danger. 
 
 What an accumulation of horror, remorse, and re- 
 gret ! My hopes vanished, my situation sacrificed, my 
 time lost ! Parents, protectors, friends, acquaintances, 
 would all be justified in taking part against me ; I was 
 afflicted and inconsolable ; I kept my room, I saw no- 
 body, and nobody came to see me. What a miserable 
 state of mind, — what a wretched situation! In my 
 solitude I was oppressed with grief, and filled with 
 objects which incessantly tormented me, and projects 
 which rapidly succeeded one another on my mind. The 
 injury which I had done to myself, and the injustice 
 which I had been guilty of towards others, were per- 
 petually before my eyes : and the sense of this injustice 
 weighed more on my mind than my own personal dis- 
 aster. If at the distance of sixty years, there should
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 87 
 
 still remain at Pa via some remembrance of my person 
 and my imprudence, I entreat the forgiveness of those 
 whom I offended, while I assure them that I have been 
 amply punished for my fault, and that I believe it to 
 be sufficiently expiated. 
 
 While I was plunged in remorse, and occupied with 
 these reflections, I received the following letter from 
 my father, which was a terrible augmentation of my 
 chagrin and despair : — 
 
 " I should wish you, my dear son, to pass the vacation this 
 year at Milan. I have engaged to go to Udiue in Venetian 
 Friuli, to undertake a cure, which may occupy me some length 
 of time, and I am uncertain but I may also be obliged to go 
 into Austrian Friuli, on account of another person suffering 
 under the same disease. I shall write a letter of acknowledg- 
 ment to the marquis for his generous offers to us, but you must 
 also on your part endeavor to merit his goodness. You inform 
 me that you have shortly to defend a thesis ; endeavor to acquit 
 yourself with honor. By this means you will please your pro- 
 tector, and highly delight your father and mother, who love 
 you dearly," etc. 
 
 This letter completed my degradation. " How," 
 said I, " shall I dare to exhibit myself before my 
 parents, covered with shame and universal contempt ! n 
 I was in such dread of this terrible moment, that to 
 extricate myself from the consequences of one fault I 
 meditated another, which might have totally ruined me. 
 " No ; I will not expose myself to the most deserved 
 and the most cutting reproaches ; no, I will not appear 
 before my irritated family ; Chiozza shall never see me 
 more ; I will go anywhere rather than return to it; I 
 will run away, and try my fortune, and either make 
 reparation for my fault, or perish. I will go to Rome,
 
 88 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 where I shall perhaps find the friend of my father who 
 was so kind to him, and who will not abandon me. 
 Ah ! if I could but become the pupil of G ravina, the 
 man the most versant in belles-lettres, and the most 
 skilled in tin- dramatic art. Ah ! if he should but con- 
 ceive such an affection for me as he had for Metastasis ! 
 Have not I also good dispositions, talents, and genius ! 
 Yes, I must to Rome. But how can I get thither ? 
 Have I money enough ? I must go afoot — afoot ! — 
 yes, afoot. And my trunk and my effects ? Let the 
 trunk and effects go to the devil. All that I want 
 is some shirts, some stockings, neckcloths, and night- 
 caps. " While occupied with these extravagant reflec- 
 tions, I kept filling a portmanteau with linen, which I 
 placed in the bottom of my trunk, destining it for my 
 journey to Rome. 
 
 As my departure was to be instantaneous, I wrote to 
 the almoner of the college for money, who. in his 
 answer, informed me that he had no property of my 
 fathers in his hands, but that, nevertheless, the ex- 
 pense of my passage by water, and my board to Chi- 
 ozza, should be defrayed by him, and that the provedi- 
 tor of the house would furnish me with a small supply, 
 for which my father should be accountable. At the 
 break of the following day a coach came for me; and 
 after my trunk was put into it, the proveditor entered 
 it along with me. We drove to the Ticino, where we 
 got into a small boat, and at the place where the 
 Ticino flows into the Po, we went on board a large 
 and ugly bark, which had brought a lading of salt. My 
 guide consigned me over to the care of the master, to 
 whom he whispered something. He afterwards gave 
 me a small packet from the almoner of the college, and 
 after saluting me and wishing me a prosperous voyage,
 
 CARLO GOLDCOsI. 89 
 
 he at last took his leave. The first thing I did was to 
 examine my treasure. I opened the packet. Heavens ! 
 what an agreeable surprise for me: I found in it forty- 
 two sequins of Florence (nearly twenty louis-d'ors). 
 This was sufficient to take me to Rome, supposing I 
 travelled prist ami took my trunk with me. But how 
 could the almoner, who had no money belonging to my 
 father, confide this sum to me ? While I was occu- 
 pie I with these reflections and these charming projects, 
 the proveditor made his appearance again in his boat. 
 He had committed a mistake : the money given to me 
 belonged to the college, and was destined to pay a 
 wood-merchant; and he took back the packet, and 
 gave me thirty paoli iu lieu of it, amounting to the value 
 of about twelve shillings ! 
 
 I was now rich with a vengeance ! I did not want 
 money for my passage to Chiozza, but how was I to 
 manage my journey to Rome ? The sequins which I 
 had been handling added mightily to my mortification ; 
 but I was obliged to console myself in the best way I 
 could, and to bring my mind to bear with the inconven- 
 iences of a pilgrimage. My bed was under the prow, 
 and my trunk beside me : I dined and supped with the 
 master of the bark, whose long stories were quite in- 
 sufferable. 
 
 On the second day we arrived at Piacenza, where 
 the master, having some business to transact, was in- 
 duced to land. This appeared to me a favorable 
 moment for my escape. I took my portmanteau, and 
 told my gentleman that I was commissioned to give it 
 to Counsellor Barilli, and that I would take this favor- 
 able opportunity to do so; but the knave would not let 
 me go. He said he had positive instructions to detain 
 me ; and when I persisted in my intention, he threat-
 
 90 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ened to have recourse to violent measures. I was 
 obliged to yield to force, and stomach my chagrin : I 
 had no alternative but to go to Chiozza. or throw my- 
 self into the Po. I retired to my nook: my misfor- 
 tunes had not hitherto drawn a tear from me, but I 
 now wept bitterly. " In the evening I was sent for 
 to supper, but refused to go. A few minutes after- 
 wards, I heard the words " Deo gratias " pronounced 
 in a pathetic tone by an unknown voice. It was 
 still tolerably light ; and on looking through a crevice 
 of the door, I observed a monk, who was address- 
 iug himself to me. I opened, and let him in. He 
 was a Dominican of Palermo, the brother of a famous 
 Jesuit, highly celebrated as a preacher; and he had 
 embarked that day at Piacenza, and, like myself, was 
 bound for Chiozza. He knew my story, the master 
 having revealed everything to him ; and he came to 
 offer me the temporal and spiritual consolation which 
 his vocation entitled him to bestow upon me, and 
 which my situation seemed to require. He displayed a 
 great deal of sensibility and fervency in his discourse. 
 I saw him shed tears ; at least I saw him apply his 
 handkerchief to his eyes. I was touched with this, and 
 abandoned myself to his mercy. 
 
 The master sent to inform us that they were wait- 
 ing for us. The reverend father was by no means 
 disposed to lose his collation, but, seeing me full of 
 compunction, he begged the master to have the good- 
 ness to wait a moment. Then turning towards me, he 
 embraced me, and, with tears in his eyes, pointed out 
 to me the dangers of my situation, and showed me that 
 the infernal enemy might take possession of me and 
 plunge me into an eternal abyss. I have already hinted 
 that I was subject to fits of hypochondriacal vapors, and
 
 CAELO GOLDOXI. 91 
 
 I was then in a most deplorable situation. My exorcist, 
 perceiving this, proposed confession to me. I threw 
 myself at his feet. "God be praised ! " said he ; " yes, 
 my dear child, prepare yourself till my return"; and 
 he then went and supped without me. I remained on 
 my knees and began a conscientious examination of 
 myself. In half an hour the father returned with a 
 wax-light in his hand and seated himself on my trunk. 
 I delivered my confiteor, and went through my general 
 confession with the requisite humility and contrition. 
 It was necessary to exhibit signs of repentance ; and 
 the first point was to make reparation for the injury 
 done by me to the families against whom I had directed 
 my satire. But how was this to be done at present ! 
 u Till you are enabled to retract your calumnies," said 
 the reverend father, "you can only propitiate the wrath 
 of God by means of alms ; for alms-giving is the first 
 meritorious work which effaces sin." "Yes, father," 
 said I to him, " I shall bestow them." " By no means," 
 he replied; "the sacrifice must be instantly made." 
 "But I have only thirty paoli." ''Very well, child; 
 in foregoing the money which we possess we have as 
 much merit as if we gave more.' 7 I drew forth my 
 thirty paoli, and requested my confessor to take the 
 charge of distributing them to the poor. This he will- 
 ingly acceded to, and then he gave me absolution. I 
 wished to continue still longer, having some things to 
 say which I had forgotten ; but the reverend father 
 began to doze, and his eyes closed every moment : he 
 told me to keep myself quiet, and he took me by the 
 hand, gave me his benediction, and hurried away to 
 his bed. 
 
 We were still eight days longer on our passage ; I 
 wished to confess myself every day, but I had no more
 
 92 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 money for penitence. I arrived, trembling, at Chiozza, 
 with my confessor, who undertook to bring about a rec- 
 onciliation between me and my relations. My father 
 was at Venice on business; my mother saw me coming, 
 and received me with tears ; for the almoner of the col- 
 lege had not failed to inform my family of the particu- 
 lars of my conduct. The reverend father had but little 
 difficulty in touching the heart of a tender mother; she 
 possessed ability and firmness, and, turning towards the 
 Dominican, by whom she was fatigued. " My reverend 
 father,'' said she, "if my son had committed a knavish 
 action, I would never have consented to see him more ; 
 but he has been guilty of a piece of imprudence, and 
 I pardon him." 
 
 My travelling companion would have wished that my 
 father had been at home to present him to the prior of 
 St. Dominic. There was something under this which 
 I could not well comprehend. My mother told him 
 that she expected my father in the course of the day ; 
 at which the reverend father appeared satisfied, and 
 without any ceremony he invited himself to dine with 
 us. While we were at table my father arrived, and I 
 rose and shut myself in the adjoining room. On my 
 father's entrance he perceived a large cowl. " This is 
 a stranger," said my mother, ''who demanded hospi- 
 tality." "But this other plate, — this other chair?'' 
 Ic was no longer possible to be silent respecting me; 
 my mother wept ; the monk harangued ; he did not 
 forget the parable of the prodigal son. My father was 
 good-natured, and very fond of me; in short, I was sent 
 for, and at last restored to favor. 
 
 In the afternoon my father accompanied the Domini- 
 can to his convent. They were unwilling to receive 
 him, as all monks who travel ought to have a written
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 93 
 
 permission from their superiors, which they call obedi- 
 ence, and which serves for a passport and certificate 5 
 
 and the one in the possession of the present applicant 
 was old, torn, and illegible, and his name unknown. 
 My father, who had credit, got him to be received, on 
 
 condition that he should not remain long. Let us fin- 
 ish the history of this worthy monk. He spoke to my 
 father and mother of a relic which was set in a silver 
 watch, and he made them fall on their knees when he 
 showed them a piece of cord twisted round iron wire. 
 This was a piece of the lace of the Virgin Mary, which 
 had even served for her divine Son ; and the proof was 
 confirmed, as he said, by a miracle which never failed; 
 for when the lace was thrown into the fire, the fiâmes 
 respected the relie ; it was drawn out uninjured ; and it 
 was then plunged into oil, which immediately became 
 miraculous oil and performed wonderful cures. My 
 father and mother could have wished to see this miracle, 
 but it could not be performed without preparations and 
 pious ceremonies, and in presence of a certain number 
 of devout persons, for greater edification and the L r h >ry 
 of God. A good deal of conversation took place on 
 this subject ; and as my father was the physician of the 
 nuns of St. Francis, he managed matters with them so 
 well that they determined to allow the miracle to be 
 performed according to the instructions of the Domini- 
 can : and the day and place were fixed for the ceremony 
 taking place. The reverend father contrived to procure 
 a good stock of oil and some money for the masses 
 which were necessary for him on his journey. Every- 
 thing was executed : but next day the bishop and mag- 
 istrate having learned that a religions ceremony had 
 taken place without permission, in which a strange 
 monk had dared to put on the stole, bring people to-
 
 94 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 gether, and boast of his miracles, proceeded separately 
 to the verification of the facts. The miraculous lace, 
 which resisted the flames, was nothing more nor less 
 than iron wire arranged in such a manner as to deceive 
 the eyes. The nuns were reprimanded, and the monk 
 disappeared. 
 
 My father and myself took our departure a few days 
 afterwards for Friuli, and we passed through Porto- 
 Gruero, where my mother possessed some revenue as 
 a public creditor. This small town, un the borders of 
 Friuli, is the residence of the Bishop of Concordia, a 
 city of great antiquity, but almost abandoned on account 
 of the badness of the air. Continuing our route, we 
 passed the Tailliamento, sometimes a river and some- 
 times a torrent, which must be forded, as there are 
 neither bridges nor ferry-boats ; and we at length ar- 
 rived at Udine, the capital of Venetian Friuli. 
 
 VI. 
 
 My father followed his profession at Udine, and I 
 resumed my studies. M. Movelli, a celebrated juris- 
 consult, gave lectures on civil and canon law, in his 
 own house, for the instruction of one of his nephews ; 
 he admitted a few persons belonging to the country to 
 his lessons, and I had the good fortune to be of the 
 number. I own that I profited more during six months, 
 on this occasion, than I had done during the three 
 years at Pavia. 
 
 I had a great desire to study ; but I was young, 
 and required some agreeable relaxation ; I sought for 
 amusements, and found them of various sorts. Lent 
 arrived : I went on Ash-Wednesday to the cathedral, 
 to hear Father Cataneo, a reformed Augustine, whose
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 95 
 
 sermons I found admirable. On going away, I retained 
 the three points of his division, word for word; and I 
 endeavored to compress his argument, and give an 
 idea of its development and moral in fourteen verses ; 
 and in my own opinion I made a very tolerable sonnet 
 of it. The same day I went and communicated it to 
 M. Treo, a gentleman of Udine, well versed hi the 
 belles-lettres, who had a great taste for poetry, and 
 my sonnet appeared very passable to him also. He 
 was kind enough to correct a few of the expressions, 
 and to encourage me to compose others. I followed 
 the preacher with great exactness, performed the same- 
 task every day, and at the close I found I had put 
 thirty-six excellent sermons into thirty-six sonnets of 
 one kind or another. I had taken the precaution of 
 sending them to the press as soon as I had sufficient 
 materials for a sheet in quarto, and during Easter week 
 I published my pamphlet, which was dedicated to the 
 deputies of the town. I was overpowered with thanks 
 from the orator, and received many acknowledgments, 
 and a great deal of applause from the first magistrates. 
 The novelty of the thing gave pleasure, and the rapid- 
 ity of the execution was still more surprising. 
 
 My father was at Gorizia, in the house of his illus- 
 trious patient Count Lantieri, lieutenant-general in the 
 army of the Emperor Charles the Sixth, and inspector 
 of the Austrian troops in Carniola and German Friuli. 
 I was very well received by that amiable nobleman, 
 who was the delight of his country. We did not 
 remain long at Gorizia, but passed immediately to 
 Yipack, a very considerable market town in Carniola, 
 at the source of a river from which it takes its name, 
 and a fief of the house of Lantieri. We passed four 
 months there in the most agreeable manner possible.
 
 96 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The nobility of that country pay their visits in whole 
 families; fathers, children, masters, servants, horses, 
 all set oft' at once, and all are received and lodged. 
 Thirty masters may be frequently seen, sometimes in 
 one house, and sometimes in another ; but as Count 
 Lantieri was accounted valetudinary, he went no- 
 where and received everybody. His table was not 
 delicately but abundantly served. I still remember 
 a dish of roast, which was the etiquette; a foreleg of 
 mutton, or venison, or a breast of veal, constituted the 
 base of it ; above this there were hares or pheasants ; 
 with red and gray partridges again above them, and 
 next woodcocks or snipes or thrushes ; and the pyra- 
 mid ended with larks and fig-peckers. 
 
 This strange assemblage was immediately shared 
 out and distributed. The small birds were served up 
 on their arrival : every one laid hold of the game to 
 cut it up : and the amateurs of meat saw the large 
 pieces which were most to their taste uncovered before 
 them. It was also the etiquette to serve up three sorts 
 of soup at each repast : bread soup with the ragouts : 
 an herb soup with the first service, and peeled barley 
 with the entremets : this barley was moistened with the 
 gravy of the roast meat, and I was told that it was 
 good for digestion. 
 
 What was most troublesome to me was the healths 
 which we were every moment obliged to drink. On 
 St Charles's day they began with his impérial maj- 
 esty, and each guest was presented with a drinking 
 vessel of a very singular kind ; it was a glass machine 
 of a foot in length, composed of different balls, which 
 diminished progressively, and were separated from one 
 another by small tubes, and which were terminated by 
 a longitudinal aperture, that could be very conven-
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 97 
 
 iently applied to the mouth, and through which the 
 liquor issued; the bottom of this machine, called the 
 glo-glo, was tilled, and on placing the top to the mouth, 
 and raising the elbow, the wine which passed through 
 the different tubes and balls, rendered a harmonious 
 sound ; and all the guests performing the same opera- 
 tion at the same time, made a concert of a very new 
 and pleasant sort. I know not whether the same 
 customs are still observed in that country ; everything 
 changes, and everything may be there changed ; but 
 if in those cantons there be yet any persons of the 
 olden times, like me, they may perhaps be glad to 
 have this brought to their recollection. 
 
 Count Lantieri was very well satisfied with my father, 
 for he was greatly recovered, and almost completely 
 cured ; his kindness was also extended to me, and to 
 procure amusement for me, he caused a puppet-show, 
 which was almost abandoned, and which was very rich 
 in figures and decorations, to be refitted. I profited by 
 this, and amused the company by giving them a piece 
 of a great man, expressly composed for wooden come- 
 dians. This was the Sneezing of Hercules, by Peter 
 James Martelli, a Bolognese. 
 
 This celebrated man was the only person who could 
 have left us a complete theatre, if he had not possessed 
 the folly of attempting a new species of versification 
 for the Italians; verses of fourteen syllables, and rhymed 
 by couplets nearly like the French verses. I shall speak 
 of these Martellian verses in the second part of the 
 Memoirs; for notwithstanding their proscription, I 
 took it into my head to be pleased with them fifty 
 years after the death of their author. 
 
 Martelli published, in six volumes, dramatical com- 
 positions of every possible description, from the most
 
 98 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 severe tragedy to the puppet-show called Bambocciata 
 by him, of which the title was the Sneezing of Hercules. 
 The imagination of the author sent Hercules into the 
 country of the pygmies. Those poor little creatures, 
 frightened at the aspect of an animated mountain with 
 legs and arms, ran and concealed themselves in holes. 
 One day as Hercules had stretched himself out in the 
 open field, and was sleeping tranquilly, the timid in- 
 habitants issued out of their retreats, and, armed with 
 prickles and rushes, mounted on the monstrous man, 
 and covered him from head to foot, like flies when they 
 fall on a piece of rotten meat. Hercules waked, and 
 felt something in his nose which made him sneeze ; on 
 which his enemies tumbled down in all directions. 
 This ends the piece. There is a plan, a progression, 
 an intrigue, a catastrophe, and winding up ; the style 
 is good and well supported ; the thoughts and senti- 
 ments are all proportionate to the size of the person- 
 ages. The verses even are short, and everything indi- 
 cates pygmies. A gigantic puppet was requisite for 
 Hercules ; everything was well executed. The enter- 
 tainment was productive of much pleasure ; and I could 
 lay a bet that I am the only person who ever thought 
 of executing the Bambocciata of Martelli. 
 
 Our representations over, and Count Lantieri's cure 
 still going on better and better, my father began to 
 speak of returning home. I was at the same time 
 invited to make a tour along with the secretary of the 
 count, who was charged with commissions for his 
 master. My father allowed me an absence of fifteen 
 days : and we set out by post in a small four-wheeled 
 chariot. We first arrived at Laubec, the capital of 
 Carnioli, on the river of the same name. I saw noth- 
 ing extraordinary there but crawfish of surprising
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 99 
 
 beauty and as large as lobsters, as some of them were a 
 foot in length. From thence we passed to Gratz, the 
 capital of Styria, where there is a very ancient and very 
 celebrated university, much better frequented than that 
 of Pavia, as the Germans are much more studious and 
 less dissipated than the Italians. I could have wished 
 to extend my journey as far as Prague ; but my com- 
 panion and myself were both limited, he by the orders 
 of his master, and I by those of my father. All that 
 we could do was not to return by the same road : we 
 traversed Carinthia ; we saw Trieste, a considerable 
 seaport on the Adriatic Sea ; from thence we passed 
 through Aquileia and Gradisca, and returned to Yipack 
 two days later than the time prescribed us. 
 
 Immediately on my return my father took his leave 
 of Count Lantieri, who, as a recompense for his care, 
 made him a present of a very handsome sum of money, 
 adding a very pretty box with his portrait and a silver 
 watch for myself. A young man in those times was 
 glad to have a silver watch, and now the lackeys will 
 not deign to carry them. 
 
 VII. 
 
 On our arrival at Chiozza we were received as a 
 mother receives her dear son, as a wife receives her 
 dear husband after a long absence. I was delighted to 
 see again that virtuous mother who was so tenderly at- 
 tached to me ; my mother and myself were very partial 
 to each other; but how different the love of a mother 
 for her son from that of a son for his mother ! Children 
 love from gratitude ; but mothers love by a natural 
 impulse, and self-love has not a less share in their ten- 
 der friendship; they love the fruits of their conjugal
 
 100 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 union, conceived by them with satisfaction, carried by 
 them with pain in their bosom, and brought into the 
 world with so much suffering. They have seen them 
 grow up from day to day ; they have enjoyed the first 
 display of their innocence ; they have been accustomed 
 to see them, to love them, to watch over them. I 
 am even disposed to believe that the last reason is the 
 strongest of all, and that a mother would not be less 
 fond of a child changed at nurse than of her own, pro- 
 vided she had bona fide received it for her own, had 
 taken care of its first education, and been accustomed 
 to caress and cherish it. 
 
 This is a digression foreign to these memoirs, but I 
 like to gossip occasionally ; and without hunting for 
 fine things, nothing interests me more than the analysis 
 of the human heart. But to resume the thread of our 
 discourse. 
 
 My father received a letter from his cousin Zavarisi, 
 a notary at Modena, to the following import : The 
 duke had renewed an ancient edict by which every pos- 
 sessor of rents and real property was prohibited from 
 absenting himself from his dominions without permis- 
 sion, and these permissions cost a great deal. M. Zava- 
 risi added in his letter, that as my views respecting 
 Milan had failed, it would be advisable for my father to 
 send me to Modena, in which there was a university as 
 at Pavia, where I might finish my legal studies, receive 
 a license, and afterwards be entered as an advocate ! 
 This worthy relation, who was sincerely attached to us, 
 put my father in mind that his ancestors had always 
 held distinguished places in the duchy of Modena ; that 
 I might revive the ancient credit of our family, and, at 
 the same time, save the expense of a permission, which 
 would require to be renewed every two years. He
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. lUl 
 
 concluded with telling us that he would take care of 
 my person, and that lie would see that I should he 
 comfortably and respectably hoarded. In a postscript 
 he mentioned that he had a good marriage in view for 
 
 me. This letter gave rise to endless reasonings for and 
 against between my father and mother. The master, 
 however, carried the point, and it was decided that I 
 should instantly depart with the courier of Modena. 
 
 At Venice there are couriers who travel and couriers 
 who do not travel. The former are called couriers of 
 Rome, as they ordinarily go only to Rome and Milan, 
 though at other times they are despatched wherever 
 the republic may want them. Their number is fixed 
 at thirty-two, and they enjoy a certain consideration in 
 the community. But with respect to the other couriers 
 the case is very different ; they are merely conductors 
 of packet-boats, paid by those who respectively farm 
 them. They are enabled, however, to improve their 
 fortune by availing themselves of nooks in their boats 
 for the concealment of parcels. These packet-boats, 
 which are five in number, are very convenient. They 
 set out for Ferrara, Bologna, Modena, Mantua, and 
 Florence ; the passengers are boarded in various styles, 
 according to their wishes, and the price is very moder- 
 ate. There is but one trifling inconvenience, that in 
 the same voyage the bark is three times changed. 
 Every state through which the couriers pass claims 
 the right of employing their own boats and crew, aud 
 the different contiguous states have never fallen upon 
 an arrangement favorable for the common interest 
 without incommoding passengers. I could wish the 
 masters of the Po to read my memoirs, and to profit 
 by my advice. 
 
 1 entered the packet-boat of Modena ; we were four-
 
 102 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 teen passengers : our conductor, named Bastia, was a 
 very aged and spare man, of a severe physiognomy, 
 "but a very respectable man, and even devout withal. 
 We took our first dinner all of us together at the inn, 
 where the master procured the necessary provisions for 
 our supper, which was to be taken on our passage. At 
 nightfall two lamps diffused a light everywhere, and 
 the courier then made his appearance in the midst of 
 us with a ehaplet in his hands and begged and exhorted 
 us very politely to recite along with him aloud a third 
 part of a rosary and the litanies of the Virgin. We all 
 gave our assent to the pious request of the good man 
 Bastia, and ranged ourselves in two rows to divide the 
 pater-nosters and ave-marias, which we recited with 
 becoming devotion. In a corner of the boat there 
 were three of our travellers who sat with their hats on 
 and kept laughiug and mimicking us. Bastia, having 
 perceived this, requested the three gentlemen to observe 
 good manners at least, if they were not disposed to be 
 devout. The three unknown persons on this laughed 
 full in his face. The courier was vexed, but said noth- 
 ing further, as he knew not whom he had to do with ; 
 but a sailor, who recognized them, told the courier 
 they were three Jews. Bastia's fury exceeded all 
 bounds, and he cried out like a mad person, " What! 
 you are Jews, and at dinner you ate bacon ! " At this 
 unexpected sally everybody began to laugh, and the 
 Jews as well as the rest. The courier continued, " I 
 pity those who are so unfortunate as not to know our 
 religion ; but I despise those who observe none. You 
 ate bacon ; you are knaves." The Jews iu a fury 
 threw themselves on the courier : we took the reason- 
 able part of defending him, and we forced the Israelites 
 to keep by themselves. Our rosary, thus interrupted,
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 103 
 
 was postponed to the following day. We supped with 
 
 tolerable gayety, and we went to sleep on our little 
 mattresses. Nothing extraordinary took place during 
 the remainder of the voyage. 
 
 On approaching Modena, Bastia asked me where 1 
 meant to lodge. I knew not myself, as M. Zavarisi 
 was to find me out a boarding-house. Bastia requested 
 me to board with him ; he was acquainted with M. 
 Zavarisi, and he flattered himself that it would meet 
 with his approbation. This was actually the case ; 
 and I went to lodge with the courier. It was a most 
 sanctified house : father, sons, daughters, daughter-in- 
 law, and children were all possessed of the greatest 
 devotion. I found no amusement with them ; but as 
 they were honest people, who lived prudently and 
 tranquilly, I was very well pleased with their atten- 
 tions; and people are always estimable when they 
 fulfil their social duties. My cousin Zavarisi, well 
 pleased to have me beside him, first presented me to 
 the rector of the university, and took me afterwards to 
 the house of a celebrated advocate of the country, 
 where I was to become acquainted with the practice 
 of the law, and where I instantly took my place. In 
 this study there was a nephew of the celebrated Mura- 
 tori, who procured me the acquaintance of his uncle, a 
 man of universal talents, who was an honor to his na- 
 tion and age, and who would have been cardinal if he 
 had been less strenuous in his writings in favor of the 
 house of Este. 
 
 My new companion showed me everything most cu- 
 rious in the town ; and, among other things, the ducal 
 palace, which was extremely beautiful and magnificent, 
 and which contained the valuable collection of pictures 
 then at Modena, but since purchased by the King of
 
 104 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Poland for the sum of a hundred thousand sequins. I 
 was curious to see the famous bucket, the subject of 
 the Secchia Rappita of Tassoni : I saw it in the 
 steeple of the cathedral, where it is suspended by an 
 iron chain. I contrived to amuse myself tol< rahly 
 well; and I believe the residence at Modena would 
 have suited me well, both on account of the literary 
 societies which abound there, and on account of the 
 spectacles, which are very frequent, and the hope which 
 I had of repairing my losses. 
 
 But a frightful scene which I witnessed a few days 
 after my arrival, a horrible ceremony, a piece of pomp 
 of religious jurisdiction, struck me so much, that my 
 mind was troubled and my senses agitated ! I saw in 
 the middle of a crowd of people, a scaffold elevated to 
 the height of five feet, on which a man appeared with 
 his head uncovered and his hands tied. This was an 
 abbé of my acquaintance, an enlightened literary man, 
 a celebrated poet, well known and highly esteemed in 
 
 Italy ; it was the Abbé J B V . One 
 
 monk held a book in his hand; another interrogated 
 the sufferer, who answered haughtily. The spectators 
 clapped with their hands, and encouraged him: the 
 reproaches augmented; the man subjected to this piece 
 of degradation trembled with rage : I could bear the 
 scene no longer. I went off in a state of thoughtful- 
 ness and agitation, and quite stunned ; my vapors in- 
 stantly attacked me : I returned home, and shut myself 
 up in my room, plunged in the most dismal and humil- 
 iating reflections for humanity. " Good God ! " said I 
 to myself, "to what are we subject in this short life, 
 which we are obliged to drag out ? Here is a man ac- 
 cused of uttering improper language to a woman who 
 had been taking the sacrament. Who denounced him?
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 105 
 
 The woman herself. Heavens î is not misfortune alone 
 a sufficient punishment ? n 
 
 Whilst I was indulging my sad reveries, Father 
 Bastia, knowing of my return, came to propose to me 
 to join his family in reciting the rosary. I required 
 something to relieve my mind, and I accepted the pro- 
 posal with pleasure. I said my rosary with devotion, 
 and I found my consolation in it. Supper was served 
 
 up, and the Abbé V was spoken of. I marked the 
 
 horror which I felt for that spectacle ; "my host, who 
 was of the secular society of that jurisdiction, consid- 
 ered the ceremony superb and exemplary. I asked 
 him how the spectacle terminated. He told me that 
 his pride had at length been humbled ; that his obsti- 
 nacy had at length yielded ; that he was obliged to 
 avow with a loud voice all his crimes, to recite a for- 
 mula of retractation presented to him, and that he was 
 condemned to six years' imprisonment. The terrible 
 aspect of this man under his ignominious treatment 
 never quitted me. I saw no one ; I went to mass 
 every day with Bastia: I went to sermon and to 
 prayers with him ; he was quite contented with me, 
 and endeavored to nourish in me that unction which 
 appeared in my actions and my discourse, by accounts 
 of visions, miracles, and conversions. My resolution 
 was taken, and I was firmly resolved to enter the order 
 of Capuchins. I wrote to my father a very labored 
 letter, which, however, was destitute of common-sense. 
 I requested his permission to renounce the world, and 
 envelope myself in a cowL My father, who was no 
 fool, took care not to oppose me: he flattered me a 
 great deal ; he seemed satisfied with the inspiration I 
 displayed, and merely begged me to join him immedi- 
 ately on the receipt of his letter, promising me that he
 
 106 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 himself and my mother wished for nothing more than 
 to see me satisfied.' 
 
 At sight of this answer, I prepared for my departure. 
 Bastia, who did not that day take the charge of the 
 hark for Venice, recommended me to his comrade, who 
 was to perform the voyage. I bade adieu to the de- 
 vout family ; I begged to be remembered in their 
 prayers, and I parted from them under the workings of 
 contrition. On arriving at Chiozza, my dear parents 
 received me with endless caresses. I asked their ben- 
 ediction, which they gave me with tears ; and I spoke 
 of my project, which they did not disapprove. My 
 father proposed to take me with him to Venice ; but 
 this I refused with all the frankness of devotion. On 
 his telling me, however, that it was to present me to 
 the guardian of the Capuchins, I willingly consented. 
 We went to Venice, where we visited our relations and 
 friends, dining with some and supping with others. 
 They deceived me. I was taken to the play, and in 
 fifteen days there was no longer any thought of the 
 cloister. My vapors were dissipated, and I was re- 
 stored to reason. I pitied always the man whom I saw 
 on the scaffold ; but I discovered that it was not neces- 
 sary to renounce the world to avoid it. My father 
 took me back to Chiozza, and my mother, who was 
 pious without being bigoted, was very glad to see me 
 in my usual state. I became still more dear and in- 
 teresting to her on account of the absence of her 
 youngest son. 
 
 My brother, who had always been destined for the 
 army, was sent to Zara, the capital of Dalmatia ; he 
 was consigned to M. Visinoni, a cousin of my mother, 
 and a captain of dragoons, and adjutant to the pro- 
 veditor-general of that province, which belongs to the
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 107 
 
 republic of Venice. This brave officer, whom all the 
 generals who succeeded to the command of Zara 
 wished to have beside them, took the charge of my 
 brother's education, and afterwards placed him in his 
 regiment. 
 
 For my part, I knew not what was to become of me. 
 At the age of twenty-one I had experienced so many 
 reverses, so many singular catastrophes had happened 
 to me, and so many troublesome events, that I no 
 longer flattered myself with anything", ' and saw no 
 other resource in my mind than the dramatic art, 
 which I was still fond of, and which I should long be- 
 fore have entered into, if I had been master of my own 
 will. My father, however, vexed to see me the sport 
 of fortune, did not allow himself to be cast down by 
 those circumstances, which began to wear a serious 
 aspect both for him and me. He had been at a con- 
 siderable and useless expense to give me a profession, 
 and he could have wished to procure me a respectable 
 and lucrative employment, which should cost him 
 nothing. This was not so easily to be found ; he did 
 find one, however, and so much to my taste that I 
 forgot all the losses which I had sustained, and I had 
 nothing further to regret. 
 
 The republic of Venice sends a noble Venetian for 
 governor to Chiozza, with the title of "podesta," who 
 takes with him a chancellor for criminal matters ; an 
 office which corresponds with that of "lieutenant- 
 criminel n in France ; and this criminal chancellor 
 must have an assistant in his office, with the title of 
 coadjutor. These appointments are more or less lucra- 
 tive, according to the country in which they are situ- 
 ated ; but they are all very agreeable, as the holders 
 of them are admitted to the governor's table, are in
 
 108 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 his excellency's party, and see every person of distinc- 
 tion in the place. However small the labor, it turns 
 out pretty well. My father enjoyed the protection of 
 the governor, who was at that time the noble Francis 
 Bonfadini. He was also very much connected with 
 the criminal chancellor, and well acquainted with the 
 coadjutor. In short, he procured my appointment as 
 adjunct to the latter. 
 
 The period of the Venetian government is fixed ; the 
 governors are changed every sixteen months. "When 
 I entered my place, four months had only elapsed. Be- 
 sides, I was a supernumerary, and could not pretend 
 to any kind of emoluments ; but I enjoyed all the 
 pleasures of society, a good table, abundance of plays, 
 concerts, balls, and fêtes. It is a charming employ- 
 ment ; but as they are not regular offices, and as the 
 governor can give the commission to whomsoever he 
 pleases, there are some of their chancellors who lan- 
 guish in inaction, and others who pass over the rest, 
 and have no time to repose themselves. It is personal 
 merit which brings them into repute ; but most fre- 
 quently protections carry the day. I was aware of the 
 necessity of securing a reputation to myself; and in 
 my quality of supernumerary, I took every means of 
 instructing myself, and making myself useful. The 
 coadjutor was not too fond of employment; I assisted 
 him as much as possible ; and at the end of a few 
 months I had become as competent as himself. The 
 chancellor was not long in perceiving it ; and he gave 
 me thorny commissions without their passing through 
 the channel of his coadjutor, which I was fortunate 
 enough to execute to his satisfaction. 
 
 Criminal procedure is a very interesting lesson for 
 the knowledge of human nature. The guilty indi-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 109 
 
 diminish the horror of it : he is either artful by nature, 
 or becomes bo through fear: he knows that he has to 
 do with intelligent persons, with professional people, 
 ami yet he does not despair to deceive them. The law 
 has prescribed to criminals certain forms of interroga- 
 te >n which must he followed, lest the demands should 
 he captious, and lest weakness or ignorance should be 
 surprised. However, it is necessary to know a little, 
 or endeavor to conjecture the character and mind of the 
 man about to be examined ; and, observing a medium 
 between rigor and humanity, an endeavor is made to 
 discover the truth without constraining the individual. 
 What interested me the most was the review of the 
 procedure, and the report which I prepared for my 
 chancellor ; for on those reviews and reports the situ- 
 ation, honor, and life of a man frequently depends. 
 The accused are defended, the matter is discussed; 
 but the report produces the first impression. Woe to 
 those who draw up reviews without knowledge, and re- 
 ports without reflection. Do not say, my dear reader, 
 that I am puffing myself off; you see when I commit 
 imprudent actions, I do not spare myself; and I must 
 be requited when I am pleased with myself. 
 
 The sixteen months' residence of the podestà drew 
 to a close. Our criminal-chancellor was already re- 
 tained for Feltre, and he proposed to me the place of 
 principal coadjutor, if I would follow him. Charmed 
 with this proposition, I took a suitable time to speak 
 of it to my father ; and next day an engagement was 
 concluded between us. Here I was at length settled. 
 Hitherto I had looked only on employments at a dis- 
 tance ; but now I held one which pleased and suited 
 me. I resolved with myself never to quit it ; but man
 
 110 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 proposes, and God disposes. On the departure of our 
 governor from Chiozza, all were eager to show him 
 every sort of honor ; and the wits of the town, or those 
 who thought themselves such, had a literary assembly, 
 in which the illustrious person by whom they had 
 been governed was celebrated both in verse and prose. 
 I sang also all the sorts of glory of the hero of the 
 festival, and I expatiated at great length on the virtues 
 and personal qualities of the governor's lady ; both of 
 them had shown a kindness for me ; and at Bergamo, 
 where I saw them in office some time afterwards, as 
 well as at Venice when his excellency was decorated 
 with the rank of senator, they always continued to 
 honor me with their protection. 
 
 Everybody went away, and I remained at Chiozza 
 till M. Zabottini (this was the name of the chancellor) 
 called me to Venice for the journey to Feltre. I had 
 always cultivated the acquaintance of the nuns of St. 
 Francis, where there were charming boarders ; the Sig- 
 
 nora B had one under her direction who was very 
 
 beautiful, very rich, and very amiable ; she would have 
 pleased me infinitely, but my age, my situation, and 
 my fortune forbade me to flatter myself with the idea : 
 the nun, however, did not despair ; and when I caDed 
 on her she never failed to send for the young lady to 
 the parlor. I felt that I was becoming seriously at- 
 tached : the directress seemed satisfied ; I did not com- 
 prehend her : I spoke to her one day of my inclination 
 and my fear; and she encouraged me and confided the 
 secret to me. This lady possessed merit and prop- 
 erty; but there was a stain on her birth. " How- 
 ever, this small defect is nothing," said the lady with 
 the veil; " the girl is prudent and well educated; and 
 I answer for her character and conduct. She has,"
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. Ill 
 
 slip continued, u a guardian, who must be gained over ; 
 bat let me alone for that. This guardian, who is 
 very old and very infirm, has, it is true, some pre- 
 tensions to his ward: but he is in the wrong, and — 
 as I stand far something in this business — let me 
 alone, I say again ; I shall arrange things for the 
 best." I own. from this discourse, this confidence, and 
 this encouragement, I began to believe myself fortu- 
 nate. Miss X did not look upon me with an un- 
 favorable eye, and I reckoned the affair as good as 
 concluded. The whole convent perceived my inclina- 
 tion for the boarder, and there were ladies acquainted 
 with the intrigues of the parlor who took pity on me, 
 and informed me of what was passing. They did it in 
 this way. The windows of my room were exactly 
 opposite to the steeple of the convent ; several aper- 
 tures were contrived in its construction, through which 
 the figures of those who approached them were con- 
 fusedly seen. I had several times observed figures and 
 signs at these apertures, and I learned in time that 
 those signs marked the letters of the alphabet, that 
 words were formed of them, and that a conversation 
 could thus be carried on at a distance. I had almost 
 every day a quarter of an hour of this mute conversa- 
 tion, which was of a discreet and decorous nature. By 
 means of this manual alphabet I learned that Miss 
 N was on the point of being married to her guar- 
 dian. Indignant at the proceedings of Lady B , 
 
 I called on her after dinner, determined to display my 
 resentment. I demanded to see her ; she came, and 
 on looking steadily at me, perceived that I was cha- 
 grined, and dexterously took care not to give me time 
 to speak ; she began the attack herself with a sort of 
 vigor and a degree of vehemence.
 
 112 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " Very well, sir," said she, " you are displeased, I 
 see by your countenance." I wished to speak then, 
 hut she would not listen to me ; she raised her voice, 
 and continued : '* Yes. sir. Miss X is to he mar- 
 ried, and her guardian is to marry her." I wished to 
 speak loud in my turn. " Silence, silence," cried she, 
 "listen to me; this marriage is my contrivance: I 
 have, after mature consideration, heen induced to second 
 it, and it was for you that I solicited it." " For me ! " 
 said I. " Yes ; silence.*' said she, " and you shall see 
 the design of an honest woman, who is attached to 
 yon. Are you," continued she, "in a situation to 
 marry ? No, for a hundred reasons. Would the lady 
 have waited your convenience ? No, for it was not in 
 her power ; she must have married : a young man 
 would have married her, and you would have lost her 
 forever. Now she is to he married to an old man, to 
 a valetudinary, who cannot live long : you will receive a 
 pretty widow who will he richer than she is at present ; 
 and in the mean time you can go on in your own way. 
 Yes, yes, she is yours ; I pledge myself for that ; I 
 give you my word of honor." 
 
 Miss N now made her appearance and ap- 
 proached the grate. The directress said to me, with a 
 mysterious air, "Compliment Miss on her marriage." 
 I could hold out no longer. I made my how, and went 
 away without saying a word. I never saw either the 
 directress or the hoarder again; and happily I soon 
 forgot both of them. 
 
 As soon as I received the letter directing me to re- 
 pair to Feltre, I set out from Chiozza. accompanied by 
 my father, and went to Venice to be introduced along 
 with him to his excellency. Paolo Spinelli, a nohle 
 Venetian, the podestà or governor, whom I was to
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 113 
 
 follow. We also called on Chancellor Zabottini, under 
 whose orders I was to labor. I left Venice a few days 
 afterwards, and in forty-eight hours I reached the place 
 of my residence. Feltre or Feltri is a town situated in 
 the Marcia Trevigiana, a province of the republic of 
 Venice, sixty leagues from the capital. It contains a 
 bishopric and a numerous nobility. The town is moun- 
 tainous and steep, and so completely covered with 
 snow during the whole winter, that from the doors in 
 the narrow streets being choked up with snow and ice, 
 they are obliged to make their way out at the windows. 
 The followiug Latin verse is ascribed to Caesar: — 
 
 " Feltria perpetuo niviuin damnata rigori." 
 
 Having arrived there before my colleagues, for the 
 purpose of receiving from my predecessor the archives 
 and other papers, I was very agreeably surprised to 
 learn that there was a company of comedians in the 
 town, who had been invited by the old governor, and 
 who intended giving a few representations on the ar- 
 rival of the new. This company was under the direc- 
 tion of Charles Veronese, the same who, thirty years 
 afterwards, came to Paris to play the character of 
 pantaloon at the Italian theatre, and who brought 
 the beautiful Coralina and the charming Camilla, his 
 daughters, along with him. This company was not 
 amiss; the director, notwithstanding his glass eye. 
 played the principal inamorato: and I saw with pleas- 
 ure the same Florindo dei Macaroni whom I knew at 
 Rimini, and who, on account of his age. only acted the 
 characters of kings in tragedy and noble fathers in 
 comedy. 
 
 Four days afterwards the governor arrived, and the 
 chancellor and another officer of justice with the title
 
 114: MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of vicar, who here and in several other provinces of the 
 state of Venice, has a voice along with the podestà in 
 sentences and judgments. I laid aside for several 
 months every idea of pleasure and amusement, and 
 applied seriously to labor, as, after this second govern- 
 ment in which I acted as coadjutor, I could aspire to a 
 chancellorship. I examined into the papers in the 
 chancery, among which 1 found a commission from the 
 senate that my predecessors had neglected. I gave an 
 account of it to my principal, who judged the affair of 
 an interesting nature, and charged me to follow it 
 through with all my abilities. This was a criminal 
 procedure on account of timber cut down in the forests 
 of the republic; and there were two hundred persons 
 implicated in the crime. This required an exam- 
 ination on the spot, to ascertain the corpus delicti. I 
 went myself with surveyors and guards across rocks, 
 torrents, and precipices. The procedure occasioned a 
 great noise, and threw every one into consternation; 
 for the wood had been cut down with impunity for 
 more than twenty years, and there was reason to ap- 
 prehend a revolt, which might have fallen on the poor 
 devil of a coadjutor who roused the sleeping lion. For- 
 tunately, this great affair terminated something in the 
 same way as the parturition of the mountain. The 
 republic was satisfied with securing its wood for the 
 future. The chancellor lost nothing, and the coadjutor 
 was indemnified for his fears. 
 
 I was intrusted some time afterwards with another 
 commission of a much more agreeable and amusing 
 nature. This was to carry through an investigation 
 ten leagues from the town, into the circumstances of a 
 dispute where fire-arms had been made use of, and 
 dangerous wounds received. As the couutry where
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 115 
 
 this happened was flat, and the road lay through 
 charming estates and country-houses, I engaged several 
 of my friends to follow me ; we were in all twelve, 
 six males and six females, and four domestics. We all 
 rode on horseback, and we employed twelve days in 
 this delicious expedition. During all this time we 
 never dined and supped in the same place ; and for 
 twelve nights we never slept on beds. We went very 
 frequently on foot along delightful roads bordered with 
 vines, aud shaded with fig-trees, breakfasting on milk, 
 and sometimes sharing the ordinary fare of the peas- 
 ants, which is a soup composed of Turkey corn called 
 polenta, and of which we made most delicious toasts. 
 Wherever we went, we saw nothing but fetes, rejoic- 
 ings, and entertainments ; and at every place where 
 we stopped in the evenins: we had balls the whole night 
 through, in which the ladies played their part as well 
 as the men. In this party there were two sisters, one 
 married and the other single. The latter was very 
 much to my liking, and I may say I made the party 
 for her alone. She was as prudent and modest as her 
 sister was headstrong and foolish ; the singularity of 
 our journey afforded us an opportunity of coming to an 
 explanation, and we became lovers. 
 
 My investigation was concluded in two hours ; we 
 selected another road for our return, to vary our pleas- 
 ure ; but on our arrival at Feltre, we were all worn 
 out, exhausted, and more dead than alive. I felt the 
 effects for a month, and my poor Angelica had a fever 
 of forty days. The six gentlemen of our party pro- 
 posed another species of entertainment to me. In the 
 palace of the governor there was a theatre, which they 
 wished to put to some use ; and they did me the honor 
 to tell me that they had conceived the project on my
 
 116 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 account, and they left me the power of choosing the. 
 pieces and distributing the characters. I thanked 
 them, and accepted the proposition, and with the ap- 
 probation of his excellency and my chancellor, I put 
 myself at the head of this new entertainment. I could 
 have wished something comic, but I was not fond 
 of buffoonery, and there were no good comedies ; 
 I therefore gave the preference to tragedy. As the 
 operas of Metastasio were then represented every- 
 where even without music, I put the airs into recita- 
 tive; I endeavored as well as I could to approximate 
 the style of that charming author ; and I made choice 
 of Didone and Siroe for our representation. I distrib- 
 uted the parts, according to the characters of my . 
 actors, whom I knew, and I reserved the worst for 
 myself. In this I acted wisely, for I was completely 
 unsuited for tragedy. Fortunately, I had composed 
 two small pieces in which I played two parts of char- 
 acter, and redeemed my reputation. The first of these 
 pieces was the Good Father, and the second La Canta- 
 trice. Both were approved of, and my acting was 
 considered passable for an amateur. I saw the last of 
 these pieces some time afterwards at Venice, where a 
 young advocate thought proper to give it out as his 
 own work, and to receive compliments on the subject ; 
 but, having been imprudent enough to publish it with 
 his name, he experienced the mortification of seeing 
 his plagiarism unmasked. 
 
 I did what I could to engage my beautiful Angelica 
 to accept a part in our tragedies, but it was impossible; 
 she was timid, and had she even been willing, her 
 parents would not have given their permission. She 
 visited us ; but this pleasure cost her tears ; for she 
 was jealous and suffered much from seeing me on such
 
 CARLO GOLDOXT. 117 
 
 a familiar footing with my fair companions. The poor 
 little girl loved me with tenderness and sincerity, and 
 I loved her also with my whole soul ; I may say she 
 was the first person whom I ever loved. She aspired 
 to become my wife, which she would have been if 
 certain singular reflections, that, however, were well 
 founded, had not turned me from the design. Her 
 elder sister had been remarkably beautiful ; and, after 
 her first child, she became ugly. The -youngest had 
 the same skin and the same features : she was one of 
 those delicate beauties whom the air injures, and whom 
 the smallest fatigue or pain discomposes ; of all which 
 I saw a convincing proof. The fatigue of our journey 
 produced a visible change upon her : I was young, and 
 if my wife were in a short time to have lost her bloom, 
 I foresaw what would have been my despair. This 
 was reasoning curiously for a lover ; but whether from 
 virtue, weakness, or inconstancy, I quitted Feltre with- 
 out marrying her. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 I had some difficulty in tearing myself from the 
 charming object with whom I first tasted the charms 
 of virtuous love. It must be owned, however, that 
 this love was not of a very vigorous description, as I 
 could quit my mistress. A little more mind and grace 
 would perhaps have fixed me ; but she possessed beauty 
 alone ; and even that beauty seemed to me on its de- 
 cline. I had time for reflection, and my self-love was 
 stronger than my passion. 
 
 I required something to divert my thoughts from the 
 subject, and several circumstances occurred calculated 
 to produce this effect. My father, who could never
 
 118 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 settle in one place (a propensity which he left as an 
 inheritance to his son) had changed his country. In 
 returning from Modena, whither he weut on family 
 affairs, he passed through Ferrara, and there he re- 
 ceived a very advantageous offer of being settled as a 
 physician at Bagnacavallo, with a fixed income. This 
 was a favorable proposition, and he accepted it ; and 
 it was arranged that I should join him there the very 
 first opportunity my situation would admit of. 
 
 On leaving Feltre, I passed through Venice without 
 stopping, and embarked with the courier of Ferrara. 
 In the bark there were numbers of people, but they 
 were ill assorted. Among others, there was a meagre 
 and pale young man with black hair, a broken voice, 
 and a sinister physiognomy, the son of a butcher of 
 Padua, who set up for a great man. This gentleman 
 grew weary, and invited everybody to play; nobody, 
 however, would listen to him, and I had the honor of 
 taking him up. He proposed at first faro on a small 
 scale, tête-à-tête, but this the courier would not have 
 permitted. We played at a child's game, called " cala- 
 carte," in which he who has the greatest number of 
 cards at the end of the game gains a fish, and he who 
 has the greatest number of spades gains another. I 
 lost my cards always, and never had any spades : at 
 thirty sous the fish, he contrived to obtain from me 
 two sequins ; I suspected him, but I paid my money 
 without saying anything. 
 
 On arriving at Ferrara I had need of repose, and I 
 went to lodge at the hotel of St. Mark, where the post- 
 horses were kept. While I was dining alone in my 
 room, I received a visit from my gambler, who came 
 to offer me my revenge. On my refusing, he laughed 
 at me, and, drawing from his pocket a pack of cards
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 119 
 
 and a handful of sequins, he proposed faro to me, 
 which I still, however, refused. " Come, come, sir," 
 said he ; "I owe you your revenge. I am an honest 
 man, willing to give it you ; and you cannot refuse me. 
 You don't know me," he continued. "To set your 
 mind at ease with respect to me, there are the cards ; 
 hold you the bank and I shall punt." The proposition 
 seemed to me fair ; I was not yet cunning enough to 
 suspect the tricks of this sleight-of-hand gentry ; I be- 
 lieved in good earnest that chance would decide the 
 business, and that I had an opportunity of recovering 
 my money. 
 
 I drew ten sequins from my purse, as an equivalent 
 for those of my antagonist, and I mixed the cards and 
 gave him them to cut. He laid two punts, which I 
 gained, and on which I was as frisky as a harlequin. 
 I shuffled again, and gave the cards to him to cut : my 
 gentleman doubled his stake and gained ; he made 
 paroli : this paroli decided the bank, and I could not 
 refuse to hold it. I held it accordingly, and I gained. 
 On this he swore like a trooper, took up the cards, 
 which had fallen on the table, counted them, found an 
 odd card, and maintained there was a false deal. He 
 attempted to seize my money, which I defended. He 
 then drew a pistol from his pocket ; and I started 
 back and let go my sequins. On hearing my plaintive 
 and trembling voice, a waiter of the hotel, leagued 
 in all probability with the cheat, made his appear- 
 ance, and announced to us that we had both incurred 
 the most rigorous penalties denounced against games 
 of hazard, and threatened to inform against us in- 
 stantly if we refused to give him some money. I 
 was not long in giving him a sequin for myself, 
 and I took post instantly, enraged at having lost
 
 120 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 my money, and still more at having allowed myself to 
 be swindled. 
 
 On arriving at Bagnacavallo, I was consoled with 
 the sight of my dear parents. My father had had an 
 attack of a mortal disease, and his only regret was, as 
 he said, lest he should die without seeing me. Alas ! 
 he saw me, and I saw him ; but this reciprocal pleasure 
 lasted but a very short time. 
 
 Bagnacavallo is merely a large village, in the lega- 
 tion of Ravenna, very rich, very fertile, and very com- 
 mercial. After iutroduciug me into the best society of 
 this place, my father, as an additional gratification for 
 me, took me to Faenza. In this town was first dis- 
 covered the sort of argillous matter mixed with potter's- 
 earth and sand, of which the glazed earth is composed 
 which the Italians call majolica, the French faience 
 and the English delft ware. In Italy a number of delft 
 plates were painted by Rafaelle d'Urbino, or by his 
 pupils. These plates are framed in an elegant style, 
 and preserved with great care in picture cabinets. I 
 saw a very abundant and very rich collection of them 
 at Venice, in the Grimani Palace at Santa Maria For- 
 mosa. Faenza is a very pretty town of Romagna, but 
 there is nothing remarkable to be seen in it. We were 
 very well received and treated by the Marquis Spada : 
 we saw several comedies performed by a strolling com- 
 pany, and in six days we returned to Bagnacavallo. 
 
 A few days afterwards, my father fell sick. It was 
 a year since he had been seized with his last disease : 
 he perceived, on taking to bed, that the relapse Mas 
 serious, and his pulse announced his danger to him. 
 His fever became malignant on the seventh day, and 
 grew worse and worse every hour. When he saw 
 himself near his latter end, he called me to his bedside,
 
 CARLO GOLDOM. 121 
 
 and, recommending his dear wife to my protection, bade 
 mc adieu, and gave me his blessing. He sent im- 
 mediately for his confessor, and received the sacrament. 
 On the fourteenth day my father was no more. He 
 was buried in the church of St. Jerome of Bagnacavallo, 
 the 9th March, 1731. 
 
 I will not dwell here on the firmness of a virtuous 
 father, the grief of a tender wife, and the sensibility of 
 a beloved and grateful son, but shall merely give you a 
 rapid sketch of the most cruel moments of my life. 
 The loss was keenly felt by me, and it occasioned an 
 essential change in my situation and family. I endeav- 
 ored to console my mother, and she in turn endeavored 
 t<> comfort me : we required the assistance of each other. 
 Oar first care was to leave the place and return to my 
 maternal aunt at Venice, and we lodged with her in 
 the house of one of our relations, where fortunately 
 there were apartments to let. During the whole jour- 
 ney from Romagna to Venice my mother did nothing 
 but speak of my chancery-employment on the main- 
 land, which she called a gipsy occupation, for it was 
 necessary to be on the spot, and to be perpetually 
 changing from country to country. She wished to live 
 along with me, to see me occupied sedentarily beside 
 her, and she conjured and solicited me with tears in her 
 eyes to embrace the profession of an advocate. On my 
 arrival at Venice, all our friends joined my mother in 
 the same wish ; I resisted as long as I could, but was 
 at last obliged to yield. Did I act wisely i Will my 
 mother long enjoy her son? She had every reason to 
 think so ; but my stars perpetually thwarted every one 
 of my projects. Thalia expected me in her temple, 
 she led me to it through many a crooked path, and 
 made me endure the thorns and the briers before yield- 
 ing me any of the flowers.
 
 122 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 As I was on the point of appearing in my gown in 
 the courts of law, where a few years before I appeared 
 without one, I called on my Unele Indrie. with whom 
 I acquired my knowledge of law-practice. He was 
 glad to see me again, and assured me of his endeavors 
 in my behalf. I had great difficulties, however, to sur- 
 mount. To be received advocate at Venice, the first 
 step is to be licensed by the University of Padua ; and 
 to obtain the license, a course of civil law in that town 
 must be gone through, five consecutive years must be 
 passed there, and the certificates of attendance at all 
 the different classes of the public schools must be pro- 
 duced. Strangers alone can present themselves in the 
 college, defend their theses, and receive their license on 
 the spot without delay. I belonged by descent to Mo- 
 dena: but as both my father and myself were born in 
 Venice, was I entitled to the advantage of strangers ? 
 I know not, but a letter written by order of the Duke 
 <>f Modena to his minister at Venice, procured me a 
 place in the privileged class. I was thus enabled to 
 repair instantly to Padua and receive my degree of doc- 
 tor ; but a new and still more serious difficulty now 
 occurred. The Venetian code is alone followed at the 
 bar of Venice; and Bartolus, Baldus, and Justinian are 
 never cited. They are scarcely known there ; but they 
 must be known at Padua. It is the same at Venice as 
 at Paris, — young men lose their time in a useless study. 
 I had lost my time like other people ; I had studied the 
 Komau law at Pa via, Udine. and Modena ; but then 
 for four years this study had been interrupted, and 
 every trace of the Imperial law was lost. I saw my- 
 self, therefore, under the necessity of becoming once 
 more a scholar. 
 
 I applied to one of my old friends, M. Kadi, whom I
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 123 
 
 knew in my infancy, and who, having employed his time 
 much better than myself, was become a good advocate, 
 and an excellent master for the instruction of the candi- 
 dates who frequent Padua only four times a year, to 
 show themselves and obtain their certificates of attend- 
 ance. M. Radi was a w< >rthy man, but, from being fond 
 of play, he was rather embarrassed in his circumstances. 
 His scholars profited by his lessons, and frequently car- 
 ried his money as well as his instructions away with 
 them. When M. Radi thought me sufficiently prepared 
 f >r a public exhibition, we set out together for Padua. 
 I own that, notwithstanding the instruction I had re- 
 ceived and a certain confidence acquired in my inter- 
 course with the world, I entertained a considerable 
 dread of the grave and solemn countenances by whom 
 I was to be judged. My friend laughed at my appre- 
 hensions, and told me I had nothing to fear, and all 
 that I had to pass through was nothing but ceremony, 
 and that a person must be very ignorant indeed who 
 failed to be crowned with the laurels of the university. 
 On arriving at the city of doctors, we waited first on 
 M. Pi-rhi. the civil-law professor, to request him to have 
 the goodness to be my promoter, that is, the person who 
 in quality of assistant presents and supports the candi- 
 dates. He acceded to my request, and received with 
 every expression of kindness a silver tea-board of 
 which I made him a present. We next went to the 
 office of the university, to deposit in the hands of the 
 treasurer the sum which the professors divide among 
 themselves. This advance is called a deposit ; but it 
 is there as at the theatre, the money is never returned 
 after the drawing of the curtain. We had visits to pay 
 to all the doctors of the college, and many of them we 
 accomplished with cards; but on calling on the Abbé
 
 124 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Arrighi, one of the first professors in the university, the 
 porter had orders to receive us. We found him in his 
 closet, and paid him the usual compliments of request- 
 ing him to honor us with his presence, and to grant us 
 his indulgence. He seemed very much astonished that 
 we should confine ourselves to this dry and useless com- 
 pliment. We could not comprehend the cause of this; 
 hut we afterwards ohtained the following information. 
 
 A new regulation had been enacted and published, by 
 order of the reformers of the course of studies at Padua, 
 by which all candidates for a doctor's degree, before 
 appearing in full college, were to undergo a particular 
 examination for the purpose of ascertaining whether 
 they were sufficiently instructed for a public examina- 
 tion. It was M. Arrighi himself who, seeing that this 
 public examination of candidates was treated as a mere 
 farce, that the indolence of youth was too much encour- 
 aged, that questions were selected at pleasure, that even 
 the arguments were communicated and the answers fur- 
 nished, and that they made only doctors without doc- 
 trine, thought proper in the excess of his zeal to solicit 
 and obtain this famous regulation which would have 
 destroyed the University of Padua had it been long en- 
 forced. I had therefore to go through this examination, 
 and the Abbe Arrighi was to be my examiner. He 
 requested M. Radi to retire into his library, and he be- 
 gan immediately to interrogate me. He was by no 
 means disposed to spare me, but wandered from the 
 code of Justinian to the canons of the church, and from 
 the digests to the pandects. I always, however, gave 
 an answer of one kind or another, though perhaps I 
 was more often wrong than right; but I displayed a 
 tolerable degree of knowledge and a great deal of con- 
 fidence. My examiner, who was very strict and sera-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 125 
 
 pulous, was by no means fully satisfied with me, and 
 wished me to prolong my studies ; but I told him frankly 
 that I came to Padua to obtain my degree ; that my 
 reputation would be injured were I to return without 
 one ; and that I had made my deposit. " What ! " said 
 he, " you have deposited your money f w "Yes, sir." 
 "And it was received without my orders?" "The 
 treasurer received it without hesitation ; and here is his 
 receipt." " So much the worse ; you ruif a risk of los- 
 ing it. Have you the courage to venture yourself ! " 
 " Yes, sir, I am determined at all hazards. I would 
 rather renounce forever my views of becoming an ad- 
 vocate, than return a second time." " You are very 
 bold." "Sir, I possess honorable feelings." "Very 
 well, fix your day. I shall be there; but take care; the 
 most trifling fault will defeat your object." On this I 
 made my bow and took my leave. Eadi had heard 
 everything, and was in greater apprehension than my- 
 self. I knew that my answers had not been very accu- 
 rate ; but in the college of doctors the questions are 
 limited, and the candidate is not made to wander through 
 the immense chaos of jurisprudence from one end to the 
 other. 
 
 Next day we repaired to the university to see the 
 points which fate should allot me drawn from the urn. 
 The civil law point turned on intestate successions, 
 and that of the canon law on bigamy. I was well ac- 
 quainted with the titles of the one and the chapters of 
 the other ; I went over them the same day in the 
 library of Doctor Pighi, my promoter ; and I applied 
 myself seriously till the hour of supper. My friend 
 and myself sat down to table, when five young per- 
 sons entered the room and wished to sup with us. 
 This we willingly agreed to, and, after supper, we
 
 126 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 began to laugh and amuse ourselves. One of the five 
 scholars was a candidate who had "been refused in the 
 examination by Professor Arrighi: and he poured forth 
 execrations against that abbé, who was a Corsican by 
 birth, and satirized his barbarity and the barbarity of 
 his country. I wished these gentlemen good night; 
 for, as my examination was to take place next day, I 
 required sleep ; but they laughed at me, and drew 
 from their pockets a pack of cards, and one of them 
 produced his sequins on the table. Radi was the first 
 to give in to the proposition : and the whole night 
 through we played, and Radi and myself lost our 
 money. We were interrupted by the beadle of the 
 college, who brought me the gown which I was to 
 appear in. The clock of the university summoned me 
 to the examination, which I had to encounter without 
 having closed my eyes, and smarting under chagrin at 
 the loss of my time and money. 
 
 However, the exigency required exertion. On my 
 arrival I was met by my promoter, who took me by 
 the hand and seated me beside himself on a balus- 
 trade, with a numerous assembly in a semicircle in 
 front of us. When every person was seated, I rose 
 and began by reciting the usual ceremony and propos- 
 ing the two theses which I had to defend. One of 
 those deputed to carry on the argumentation attacked 
 me with a syllogism in barhara with citations of texts 
 in the major and minor. I resumed the argument, 
 and in the citation of a paragraph I confounded No. 5 
 with No. 7: my promoter whispered my mistake to 
 me, which I wished to correct. On this M. Arrighi 
 rose from his seat and said aloud to If. Pighi, " I pro- 
 test, sir, that I will not suffer the smallest infraction 
 of the laws of the regulation. All assistance to candi-
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 127 
 
 dates is prohibited at a time like this. It may pass 
 f r this time ; but I give you warning for the fu- 
 ture." 
 
 I perceived that this misplaced sally excited uni- 
 versal indignation, and I seized the favorable instant 
 t ■> resume the substance of my thesis and the proposi- 
 tions of the argument. In place of the scholastic 
 method I substituted learning, reasonings, and the 
 discussions of compilers and interpreters. I gave a 
 dissertation on the whole extent of intestate succes- 
 sions, which met with universal applause; and seeing 
 the success of my boldness, I made an instantaneous 
 transition from the civil to the canon law, and under- 
 took the article of bigamy, which I treated like the 
 other. I went through the laws of the Greeks and 
 Romans, and cited councils. I was fortunate in the 
 questions which fell to my lot; for I knew them by 
 heart; and on this occasion I acquired an immortal 
 honor. The votes were now taken, and the registrar 
 published the result. I was made a licentiate " ne- 
 mine penitùs penitùsque discrepante" ; that is to say, 
 without one dissentient voice, not even that of M. 
 Arrighi, who, on the contrary, was very well satisfied. 
 My promoter then put the doctor's cap on my head 
 and proceeded to pass an eulogium on the licentiate ; 
 but as I did not follow the usual routine, he composed 
 Latin prose and verse adapted to the occasion, which 
 was highly honorable both to himself and me. Every 
 one may enter on the reception of the candidate, and 
 on this occasion I was quite overpowered by the com- 
 pliments and salutations which I received. Radi and 
 myself returned to our hotel, very well pleased with 
 the termination of this affair, and very much embar- 
 rassed to find ourselves without money. This, how-
 
 128 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ever, was a sine qua non, and we obtained some with- 
 out much difficulty, aud took our departure exultingly 
 and triumphantly for Venice. 
 
 On arriving at Venice, after embracing my mother 
 and aunt, whose joy was excessive, I paid a visit to 
 my uncle the attorney ; whom I solicited to obtain a 
 place for me with an advocate for instruction in the 
 forms and practice of the bar. My uncle, who was 
 enabled to make a choice, recommended me to M. 
 Terzi, one of the best pleaders and chamber-counsel in 
 the republic, with whom I was to remain two years ; 
 but I entered in the month of October, 1731, and left 
 him in May, 1732; when I was received as an advo- 
 cate. In all probability they looked merely to the 
 date of the year and not to that of the months. 
 There was always something extraordinary in all my 
 arrangements, and, to say the truth, almost always to 
 my advantage. I was born lucky, and whenever I 
 have not been so the fault has been entirely my own. 
 
 The advocates at Venice must have their lodgings 
 and be at their chambers in the quarter della Roba. 
 I took apartments at San Paternian, and my mother 
 and aunt did not quit me. I equipped myself in my 
 professional gown, the same as that of the patricians, 
 enveloped my head in an immense wig, and waited 
 with great impatience for the day of my presentation 
 in court. This presentation does not take place with- 
 out ceremony. The novice must have two assistants, 
 called at Venice Compari di Palazzo, whom the young 
 man selects from among those old advocates who are 
 the most attached to him. I chose M. Uccelli and M. 
 Roberti, both my neighbors. I went between my two 
 friends to the bottom of the great staircase in the 
 great hall of the courts, and for half an hour I was
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 129 
 
 obliged to make so many bows and contortions that 
 my back was almost broken, and my wig resembled 
 the mane of a lion. Every one who passed me had 
 something to say respecting me ; some observed that I 
 mus a lad with s<ane expression in my countenance; 
 others, that I was a new sweeper of the courts ; some 
 embraced me, and others laughed in my face. At 
 length I ascended and sent my servant in quest of a 
 gondola, not daring to make my appearance in the 
 open street in my then equipment, and I appointed 
 him to meet me in the hall of the great council, where 
 I seated myself on a bench and where I saw every- 
 body pass without being seen by anybody. 
 
 I began to reflect on the profession of which I had 
 made choice. There are generally two hundred and 
 forty advocates in the list at Venice ; of these there 
 are from ten to twelve in the first rank, twenty per- 
 haps in the second, and all the rest are obliged to hunt 
 for clients, and the pettifogging attorneys are willing 
 enough to become their hounds on the condition of 
 sharing together the prey. I was in apprehension for 
 myself as I was last on the list, and I regretted the 
 chanceries which I had abandoned. But then, on the 
 other hand, I saw no profession so lucrative and hon- 
 orable as that of an advocate. A noble Venetian, a 
 patrician, a member of the republic, who would not 
 deign to become merchant, banker, notary, physician, 
 or professor of a university, has no hesitation in em- 
 bracing the profession of an advocate, which he fol- 
 lows in the courts, and he calls the other advocates his 
 brothers. Everything depended on good fortune ; and 
 why was I to be less fortunate than another f The 
 attempt required to be made, and it was incumbent 
 on me to plunge into the chaos of the bar, where
 
 130 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 perseverance and probity lead to the temple of for- 
 tune. 
 
 While I was thus musing by myself and building 
 castles in Spain, I observed a fair, round, and plump 
 woman of about thirty, advancing towards me, of a 
 tolerable figure, with a flat nose, roguish eyes, a pro- 
 fusion of gold about her neck, ears, arms, and fingers, 
 and in a dress which announced her to be of the inferior 
 orders, but in easy circumstances ; she accosted and 
 'saluted me. " Good day, sir." " Good day, madam." 
 " Will you allow me to pay you my compliments f " 
 "On what!" " On your admission ; I observed you 
 making your obeisance at court: upon my word, sir, 
 you are prettily equipped!" "Am I not? Do yon. 
 think me handsome ? " " 0, the dress is nothing ; M. 
 Goldoni becomes everything." " So you know me, 
 madam?" "Have not I seen you four years ago in 
 the land of litigation, in a long peruke and a short 
 robe?" " You are in the right, when I was with an 
 attorney ?" "Yes, with M. Indric." " So you know 
 my uncle, then?" "I? I know every person here, 
 from the doge to the clerks of court." "Are you 
 married ? w " Xo." "Are you a widow?" "No." 
 " Have you any employment ? " " Xo." " You have 
 a revenue, then?" "None at all." "But you are 
 well equipped ; and how do you live then ?" "I am 
 a girl of the courts, and the courts maintain me." 
 " Upon my word, that is very singular ! You belong 
 to the courts, you say?" "Yes, sir; my father was 
 employed in them." «• What did he follow ?" " He 
 listened at the doors, and carried good news to those 
 who were in expectation of pardons, or sentences, or 
 favorable judgments; and as he had good legs he was 
 always first with the news. My mother was always
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 131 
 
 here as well as myself; she was not proud, she receive.! 
 money and accepted of a few commissions. I was horn 
 and brought up in these gilded halls, and you see I 
 have gold upon me." " Your story is very singular; 
 so you follow the footsteps of your mother? " "No, 
 sir, I do something else." " And what is that ?" "I 
 solicit lawsuits." '* Solicit lawsuits! I do not under- 
 stand you." " I am as well known as Barabbas ; all 
 the advocates .and attorneys are well known to be my 
 friends, and many people apply to me to procure them 
 counsel and defenders. Those who have recourse to 
 me are not generally rich : and I apply to new-comers, 
 to persons without emp] >yment, who wish nothing 
 better than to have an opportunity of making them- 
 selves known. Do you know, sir, that, such as you 
 see me, I have made the fortune of a good dozen of the 
 most famous advocates at this bar? Come, sir, take 
 courage ; with your good leave I shall also be the 
 making of you." I was amused with listening to her; 
 and as my servant did not arrive I continued the con- 
 versation. 
 
 '•Very well, madam: have you any good affair at 
 present?" "Yes, sir, I have several, and some of 
 them excellent ; I have a widow suspected of having 
 concealed effects; another anxious that a contract of 
 marriage drawn posterior to its date should be held 
 good; I have girls who demand to be portioned; I 
 have wives who wish a separation; and I have people 
 of condition pursued by their creditors : you see, you 
 have only to choose." 
 
 " My good woman," said I to her, "I have allowed 
 you to speak, and I wish now to speak in my turn. I 
 am young and entering on my career, and desirous of 
 occasions of employment where I may appear to ad-
 
 132 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 vantage ; but the desire of labor and the itch of plead- 
 ing will never induce me to undertake such bad causes 
 as those you propose to me." " Ah, ah ! " said she, 
 '' you despise my clients, because I told you there was 
 nothing to be gained ; but listen : you shall be well 
 paid, and even paid beforehand if you choose." I saw 
 my servant at a distance ; I rose, and said to the wo- 
 man with a firm and determined tone, "No, you are 
 not acquainted with me : I am a man of honor." She 
 laid hold of my hand, and said with a serious air, 
 " Bravo ! continue always to entertain the same senti- 
 ments." "Ah, ah," said I to her, " you change your 
 language." u yes," said she, " and the language 
 which I now use is better than that I have quitted. 
 Our conversation has not been without mystery ; bear 
 it in mind, and take care never to mention it. Adieu, 
 sir, be always prudent and always honorable, and you 
 will find your account in it." On this she went away, 
 and I remained lost in astonishment. I could make 
 nothing of the matter, but I afterwards learned that 
 she was a spy ; that she came for the purpose of sound- 
 ing me ; but I never either learned or wished to learn 
 by whom she had been employed. 
 
 IX. 
 
 I WAS now an advocate ; my introduction to the bar 
 had taken place, and the next thing was to procure 
 clients. I attended every day in court, listening to the 
 masters of the profession, and looking round every- 
 where to see if my physiognomy happened to take with 
 any one who might think proper to give me an oppor- 
 tunity of appearing in a cause of appeal. A new ad- 
 vocate cannot shine and show himself off to advantage
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 133 
 
 in the tribunals where causes originate ; and it is in the 
 superior courts alone that he can display his science, 
 eloquence, voice, and grace ; four means all equally 
 necessary to place an advocate in the first rank at 
 Venice. My Uncle Indric was liberal in his promises, 
 and all my friends were incessantly flattering me ; but 
 in the mean time I was obliged to pass the whole of the 
 afternoon and part of the evening in a closet, that I 
 might not lose the first favorable instant. - 
 
 One of the most essential articles in the profits of a 
 Venetian advocate is derived from consultations. An 
 advocate of the first order is paid for a consultation of 
 not more than three quarters of an hour at the rate of 
 two and three sequins ; and there are sometimes in a 
 cause of consequence not less than twelve, fifteen, and 
 twenty consultations before it is heard by the judge. 
 If the advocate be employed to write and draw up a 
 demand or an answer in the course of the suit, he re- 
 ceives an immediate payment of from four to six and 
 twelve sequins. The pleadings are not in writing at 
 Venice ; the advocate pleads viva voce, and his ha- 
 rangue is paid for according to the interest of the cause 
 and the merit of the defender. All this mounts to 
 something very high ; in my moments of solitude and 
 ennui, I used to amuse myself with attempts to calcu- 
 late it; and as far as I could judge, an advocate in 
 great repute may gain, without injuring himself, forty 
 thousand livres per annum ; a very large sum indeed for 
 a country where living is not half so dear as at Paris. 
 
 Nobody visited me but a few curious persons for the 
 sake of sounding me, or litigants of a dangerous de- 
 scription. I listened patiently to them, and gave them 
 my opinion ; I did not keep my watch in my hand ; I 
 allowed them to stay as long as they chose ; I accom-
 
 134 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 panied them to the door, and they gave me nothing. 
 This is the lot of all beginners, who must lay their ac- 
 count with waiting for three or four years hefore they 
 can get a name, or gain any money. I am inclined to 
 think, however, that if I had continued my career at 
 the bar, I should have got on much more promptly 
 than many of my brethren : for in six months I pleaded 
 a cause and gained it ; hut my star already threatened 
 me with a new change, which I could not avoid. I 
 reserve, however, for another place, the origin and con- 
 sequences of a revolution much more violent still than 
 that which I had experienced in the College of Pa via. 
 
 Meanwhile I passed my time alone in my closet, of 
 with very indifferent company, and I made almanacs. ' 
 To make almanacs either in Italian or French is 
 losing one's time with useless fancies; hut at present, 
 however, it was otherwise. I made a real almanac, 
 which was printed, relished, and applauded. I gave it 
 for title gt The Experience of the Past : Astrologer of 
 the Future ; Critical Almanac for the year 173*2." It 
 contained a general discourse on the year, and four 
 discourses on the four seasons in triplets, interwoven 
 in the manner of Dante, containing criticisms on the 
 manners of the age. and for every day of the year 
 there was a prognostication containing a joke, a criti- 
 cism, or a point. I shall not give an account of a 
 trine which does not deserve the trouhle. I shall 
 merely trauscrihe the couplet for Easter-day, because 
 this piece of pleasantry, in other respects perhaps the 
 most commonplace of the whole, produced a remark- 
 able effect from the verification of the prognostication, 
 and both procured me pleasure and services of great 
 importance. The prediction in Italian verse ran as 
 follows : —
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 135 
 
 "In si gran giorno nna gentil contessa 
 Al perucchier sacrifica la inessa." 
 
 " In this great day an amiable countess will sacrifice the 
 mass to her hairdresser." 
 
 This little work, such as it was, amused me very much ; 
 for there were then no public amusements in Venice, 
 
 and my different occupations prevented me from think- 
 ing of them. The criticisms and pleasantries of my 
 almanac were really of a comic description, and each 
 prognostication might have furnished subject-matter 
 for a comedy. I was then seized with a desire to return 
 to my old project, and I sketched a few pieces ; hut on 
 reflecting that comedy did not harmonize very much 
 with the gravity of my gown, I concluded the majesty 
 of tragedy to be more analogous to my profession, 
 and I was guilty of a breach of fidelity to Thalia in 
 ranking myself under the standard of Melpomene. 
 
 As I wish to conceal nothing from my reader, I must 
 reveal my secret to him. My affairs became deranged 
 (I shall soon explain why aud wherefore). My closet 
 brought me in nothing, aud I was under the necessity 
 of turning my time to some account. The profits in 
 comedy are very moderate in Italy for the author ; and 
 from the opera alone I could gain a hundred sequins 
 at once. With this view I composed a lyrical tragedy, 
 called Amalosonte. I was well pleased with my labor, 
 and I found people to whom the reading of it seemed to 
 give satisfaction ; but, to tell the truth, I had not made 
 choice of connoisseurs. I shall afterwards speak of 
 this musical tragedy. But I must advert to a cause 
 which my Uncle Indric came to propose to me. 
 
 This cause was a contest originating in a hydraulic 
 servitude. A miller made a purchase of a stream of
 
 136 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 water for his mill. The proprietor of the source altered 
 its direction ; and the object of the action was to rein- 
 state the miller in his rights, with damages and inter- 
 est. The town of Crema took the miller's part. A 
 model had been executed ; and legal investigations, 
 violences, and rebellions had taken place. The cause 
 was of a mixed nature, partly civil and partly criminal ; 
 and it came before the Avvogadori, a very grave magis- 
 tracy, like that of the Roman tribunes of the people. 
 The advocate opposed to me was the celebrated Corde- 
 lina, the most learned and eloquent man at the bar of 
 Venice ; and I had to make an immediate answer with- 
 out, writing or time for meditation. 
 
 The day was appointed, and I repaired to the proper 
 tribunal. My adversary spoke for an hour and a half; 
 I listened to him without fear. On the conclusion of 
 his harangue I began mine, in which I endeavored, 
 by a pathetic preamble, to conciliate the favor of my 
 judge. This was my first exhibition, and I required 
 indulgence. On entering upon the subject, I boldly 
 attacked the harangue of Cordelina; my facts were 
 true, my reasons good, my voice sonorous, and my 
 eloquence not displeasing. I spoke for two hours, and 
 on my couclifsipn I retired bathed from head to foot. 
 My servant waited for me in an adjoining room. I 
 changed my linen ; I was fatigued and exhausted. 
 My uncle made his appearance, who exclaimed, " My 
 dear nephew, we have gained the action, and the 
 adverse party is condemned in costs. Courage, my 
 friend," continued he; "this first attempt makes you 
 known as a man who will get on, and you will not be 
 in want of clients." "Who would not conclude me very 
 fortunate ? — Heavens ! what a destiny ! What a num- 
 ber of vicissitudes and reverses !
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 137 
 
 The unfortunate event which I am about to recount, 
 and which I have already announced, might have 
 appeared uniting the anecdotes of the two preceding 
 years; but I prefer giving the whole story at once, to 
 interweaving it piecemeal with the rest of my narra- 
 tion. My mother had been very intimate with Madame 
 
 St. and Miss Mar — , tw< » sisters living apart, though 
 
 lodged under the same roof. During her travels the 
 acquaintance dropped ; but it was renewed on our 
 settling again at Venice. I was introduced to these 
 ladies ; and as Miss Mar — was richest, she lodged on 
 the first floor. As she saw company, she received the 
 greatest number of visits. Miss Mar — was not young ; 
 but she still possessed the remains of beauty. At the 
 age of forty she was as fresh as a rose, as white as 
 snow, with a natural complexion ; large, sparkling, and 
 intelligent eyes, a charming mouth, and an agreeable 
 embonpoint. Her nose alone disfigured her somewhat. 
 It was aquiline, and à little too much raised, which, 
 however, gave her an air of importance when she as- 
 sumed a serious tone. She had always refused mar- 
 riage, though from her respectable air and her fortune, 
 she could never have been in want of advantageous 
 offers ; and for my good or bad fortune, it so happened 
 that I was the happy mortal who made the first im- 
 pression on lier. We understood one another, but 
 durst not speak; for she acted the prude, and I was 
 afraid of a refusal. I consulted my mother, who was 
 by no means 'displeased ; and even, from an opinion 
 that the match was advantageous to me, took upon her 
 to open the matter. She proceeded very slowly, how- 
 ever, not to draw me from my professional occupation, 
 and she was desirous to see me first somewhat mora 
 firmly established.
 
 138 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Meanwhile, I continued to pass my evenings with 
 Miss Mar — . Her sister used to join the party, with 
 her two daughters, who were marriageable. The 
 oldest was deformed, and the other was ugly. She 
 had, however, black and roguish eyes, an abundance 
 of entertaining drollery, and possessed the most natural 
 and engaging gracefulness. Her aunt disliked her, for 
 she had frequently opp< >sed her in her temporary incli- 
 nations, and never failed to use her utmost efforts 
 to supplant her in my good graces. For my part, I 
 amused myself with the niece, and kept steadfast to the 
 v aunt. In the mean time an excellency contrived to 
 introduce himself to Miss Mar — , and paid her some 
 attentions, of which she was the dupe. Neither of 
 *w them had the least affection for the other; the lady 
 *A . wished the title, and his excellency the fortune. 
 
 However, seeing myself deprived of the place of 
 honor which I had occupied, I was piqued, and, by 
 way of revenge, paid my court to her detested rival. I 
 carried my vengeance so far that in two months' time 
 I became completely enamored, and I drew up for my 
 ugly mistress a good contract of marriage, regular and 
 formal in every respect. The mother of the young 
 woman and her adherents, it is true, made use of every 
 means to get hold of me. In our contract there were 
 articles very advantageous for me ; I was to receive an 
 income belonging to the young lady ; her mother was 
 to give up her diamonds to her; and I was to receive a 
 considerable sum of money from a friend of the family, 
 whom they would not name to me. 
 
 I still continued to visit Miss Mar — , and passed the 
 evenings as usual; but the aunt distrusted the niece, 
 for whom my attentions were, as she could perceive, 
 somewhat less reserved. She knew that for some time
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 139 
 
 I usually ascended to the second floor before entering J) .' ^ . 
 the first: she was devoured by vexation, and wished 
 to get rid of her sister, her nieces, and myself. For 
 this purpose she solicited her marriage with the gentle- EU^*"^ 
 mau whom she supposed she had secured; and pro-, 
 posed to him to agree upon the time and conditions : q 
 but what was her astonishment and humiliation to 
 receive for answer that his excellency demanded the 
 half of her property as a donation on marrying her, 
 and the other half after her death! She was seized 
 with transports of rage, hatred, and contempt ; she 
 sent a formal refusal to her suitor, and almost died of 
 grief. All this was communicated by persons about 
 the house to the eldest sister, and it threw both mother 
 and daughter into the greatest joy. Miss Mar — did 
 not dare to speak ; she was forced to stomach her 
 chagrin; ami, seeing me display marks of kindness for 
 the niece, she cast now and then a furious look at me 
 with her large eyes, which were inflamed with rage. 
 In this society we were all of us bad politicians. Miss 
 Mar — , who knew not the footing on which her niece 
 received me, still flattered herself with the hope of tear- 
 ing me from the object of her jealousy, and on account • 
 of the difference of fortune, of again seeing me at her * 
 feet : but the perfidious part of which I am now going K V -A 
 to accuse myself soon completely undeceived her. I 
 composed a song for my mistress, which was set to 
 music by an amateur of taste, with the intention of 
 having it sung in a serenade on the canal which the 
 house of these ladies overlooked. I took an opportu- 
 nity favorable for the execution of my project, fully v 
 sure of pleasing the one and provoking the other. Kh** 
 
 About nine o'clock in the evening, when we were 
 assembled in a party in the saloon of the aunt, a very
 
 140 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 jtA^'^'noisy symphony was heard on the canal under the bal- 
 cony of the aunt, and consequently also under the 
 windows of the niece. We all rose that we might 
 enjoy it ; and on the conclusion of the overture, we 
 heard the charming voice of Agnese, a female singer 
 then in fashion for serenades, who, from the sweet- 
 ness of her voice and the purity of her expression, 
 gave an effect to the music and a celebrity to the 
 couplets. 
 
 The song was successful at Venice, and sung up 
 and down everywhere ; hut it lighted up the torch of 
 discord in the minds of the two rivals, each of whom 
 appropriated it to herself. I tranquillized the niece 
 by assuring her in a whisper that the fête was intended 
 for her, and I left the mind of the other in doubt and 
 agitation. I received compliments from every one, 
 which, however, I refused, and continued incognito; 
 but I was by no means sorry to be suspected. 
 
 Next day I made my entrance at the usual hour. 
 Miss Mar — , who was watching for me, saw me enter, 
 
 v/A^ came out to me in the passage, and made me accom- 
 " V- pany her into her room. Having requested me to sit 
 
 jt . down beside her, she said to me, with a serious and 
 passionate air, "You have regaled us with a very 
 brilliant entertainment ; but as there are more women 
 /than one in this house, for whom, pray. Mas this piece 
 of gallantry intended \ I know not whether I have a 
 right to return you my thanks." ''Madam," I an- 
 swered, '• I am not the author of the serenade." 
 Here she interrupted me with a proud and almost 
 threatening air. " Do not conceal yourself," said she : 
 " the effort is useless: tell me only whether this 
 amusement was intended for me or for another. I 
 must warn you," continued she, "that this déclara-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 141 
 
 tion may become serious ; that it ought to be decisive ; ^ 
 and another word shall not be heard from me on the 
 subject." 
 
 Had I been free, I know not what answer I should 
 have made; but I was tied down, and had but one 
 answer to give. " Madam," said I, " supposing me to 
 be the author of the serenade, I should never have 
 dared to address it to you." " Why not ? " said she. 
 "Because," I answered, " your views, are too ele- 
 vated for me ; and great lords alone can merit your 
 esteem — " "This is enough," said she, rising: 
 " I comprehend everything sufficiently : very well, sir, 
 yon will repent it." (She was in the right: I have 
 repented it very much.) » \ ,Al 
 
 War was now declared. Miss Mar — , piqued at be- 
 ing supplanted by her niece, and afraid of seeing her ^o/^* 
 married before herself, turned her views elsewhere. 
 Opposite her windows there was a respectable family, 
 not titled, but allied to patrician families ; and the 
 eldest son had paid, his court to Miss Mar — , and met 
 with a refusal. She endeavored to renew the inter- 
 course with the young man, who was not backward on 
 his part ; she purchased a very honorable situation for 
 him, and in six days' time everything was agreed on 
 and the marriage concluded. M. Z , the new hus- 
 band, had a sister who was to be married the same 
 month to a gentleman of the mainland ; both mar- 
 riages of persons in easy circumstances ; and that of 
 my mistress and myself was to be the third ; and not- 
 withstanding our poverty, we were also obliged to put 
 on an appearance of wealth and ruin ourselves. This 
 was what deranged my affairs and reduced me to ex- 
 tremities. But how was I to extricate myself ! 
 
 My mother knew nothing of what was going on in a \\^^\
 
 142 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 house which she seldom visited, 
 ing herself of the ceremonies usual on such occasions, 
 ■ was malicious enough to inform her of it ; she sent her 
 a marriage card; my mother was greatly astonished; 
 she spoke to me; I was obliged to own everything; 
 still, however, I endeavored to soften the folly com- 
 mitted by me in giving effect to promises of a nature 
 lint altogether to be relied on ; and I concluded by 
 telling her that at my age a wife of forty was not a 
 suitable match for me. This last reason seemed to 
 appease my mother more than all the rest. She asked 
 me whether the time was yet fixed for my marriage. 
 I told her that it was, and that we had still three good 
 * months before us. A marriage at Venice in form, and 
 **^S^ with all the customary follies, is a much more cere- 
 monious affair than anywhere else. In the first place, 
 there is the signature of the contract, with the inter- 
 vention of parents and friends, a formality which we 
 avoided by signing our contract secretly. Secondly, 
 the presentation of the ring. This is not the marriage- 
 ring, but a stone ring, a solitary diamond, which the 
 bridegroom must make a present of to his bride. The 
 relations and friends are invited on this occasion : there 
 is a great display in the house ; great pomp and much 
 dressing ; and no meeting takes place at Venice with- 
 out expensive refreshments. This expense we could 
 not avoid ; for our marriage, however ridiculous, could 
 not be kept secret ; and we were obliged to do like 
 other people, and go completely through with things. 
 The third ceremony is the presentation of the pearls. 
 A few days before the nuptial benediction takes place, 
 the mother, or the nearest relation of the bridegroom, 
 waits on the bride, and presents her with a necklace of 
 fine pearls, which the young lady wears regularly about
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 143 
 
 her neck from that day to the termination of the first 
 year of her marriage. Few families possess these pearl 
 necklaces, or wish to be at the expense of them ; but 
 they are hired, and if they are anything beautiful, the 
 hire is very high. This presentation is attended with 
 balls, entertainments, and dresses, and consequently is 
 very expensive. 
 
 I shall say nothing of the other successive ceremonies 
 which are nearly similar to those which take place 
 everywhere. I stop at that of the pearls, which I ought 
 to have gone through, but which I omitted for â hun- 
 dred reasons; the first of which was, that I had no 
 more money. On the approach of this last preliminary 
 of the nuptials, I intimated to my intended mother-in- 
 law, that I now expected the performance of the three 
 conditions of our contract. These were the revenues 
 which were to he assigned over to me, the diamonds 
 which the mother agreed to deposit in the hands of 
 her daughter, or mine, before the day of the presenta- 
 tion of the pearls, and the putting me in possession of 
 the whole or part of the considerable sum which was 
 promised to lier by the unknown protector. The fol- 
 lowing is the result of the conference which one of my 
 cousins took the charge of. The revenues of the young 
 lady consisted in one of those life-annuities destined by 
 the republic for a certain number of females ; but they 
 must all wait their turn; and there were still four to 
 
 die before Miss St. could enjoy hers : she herself 
 
 might even die before touching the first quarter's pay- 
 ment. As to the diamonds, they were decidedly des- 
 tined for the daughter; but the mother, who was still 
 young, would not consent to part with them during her 
 own lifetime, and would only agree to give them after 
 her death. With regard to the gentleman who was
 
 144 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to give the money (for what reason is not so clear), 
 he had undertaken a journey, and was not to return for 
 some time. 
 
 Such was the comfortable situation in which I was 
 placed. I had not sufficient means to support an ex- 
 pensive establishment, and still less to enable me to 
 vie with the luxury of two fortunate couples. My 
 closet yielded me little or nothing ; I had contracted 
 debts : I saw myself on the brink of a precipice, and 
 I was in love ! I mused, I reflected, I sustained a dis- 
 tressing conflict between love and reason ; but at last 
 the latter gained the victory over the dominion of the 
 senses. I communicated my situation to my mother, 
 who, with tears in her eyes, agreed with me that some 
 violent resolution was absolutely necessary to avoid 
 ruin. She mortgaged her property to pay my debts at 
 Venice ; I assigned over my Modena property for her 
 maintenance, and I formed the resolution of departing. 
 In the moment when I had the most flattering pros- 
 pects, after the successful appearance made by me in 
 court in the midst of the acclamations of the bar, I 
 quitted my country, my relations, my friends, my love, 
 my hopes, and my profession ; I took my departure, 
 and landed at Padua : the first step was taken, the rest 
 cost me nothing; for, thanks to the goodness of my 
 temperament, excepting my mother, everything else 
 ,v' was soon forgotten by me ; and the pleasure of liberty 
 consoled me for the loss of my mistress. 
 
 On leaving Venice, I wrote a letter to the mother 
 of the unfortunate young woman ; and I attributed to 
 her the immediate cause of the resolution to which I 
 was reduced. I assured her that on the fulfilment of 
 the three conditions of the contract, I should soon re- 
 turn ; and, expecting an answer, I still continued my
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 145 
 
 journey. I carried my treasure along with me. This 
 was Amalasont c, which I had composed during my 
 leisure, and respecting which I entertained hopes which 
 I believed to be extremely well founded. I knew that 
 the opera of Milan was one of the most considerable 
 not only of Italy, but of all Europe. I proposed, there- A/U^J 
 fore, to present my drama to the direction at Milan, 
 which is in the hands of the nobility. I calculated on 
 the reception of my work, and that I could not fail to 
 obtain the hundred sequins ; but he who reckons with- 
 out his host, reckons twice. \/ 
 
 X. 
 
 In my way from Padua to Milan, I arrived at Vi- 
 
 cenza, where I stopped for four days. In this city |/ 
 
 I was acquainted with Count Parminion Triscino, of J/vv> 
 the family of the celebrated author of Sophonisba, a 
 tragedy composed in the Grecian manner, and one of 
 the best pieces of the good age of Italian literature. I 
 knew M. Trissino in early youth at Venice. We both^v vô 
 of us had a taste for the dramatic art. I showed him 
 my Amalasonte, which he applauded very coldly, and 
 he advised me to be constant to comedy, for which 
 he knew me to possess talents. I was displeased to \^ (i 
 find he did not think my opera charming, and I attrib- 
 uted his coolness to the preference which he himself H* C 
 manifested for comedy. 
 
 I saw with pleasure at Yicenza the famous Olympic ^Ta/\ 
 theatre of Palladio, a very celebrated architect of the 
 sixteenth century, and a native of that city ; and I 
 admired his triumphal arch, which with no other or- 
 naments but those of the regularity of its proportions, 
 passes for the chef-d'oeuvre of modern architecture.
 
 146 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The beautiful models exist, and the imitations are rare. 
 I passed from Yieenza to Verona, where I was desirous 
 of becoming acquainted with the Marquis Maffei, the 
 author of Merope, a very successful work, which has 
 been happily imitated. This man, who was versed in 
 every department of literature, knew better than any 
 person the necessity for the reform of the Italian thea- 
 tre. He attempted the undertaking, and published a 
 volume with the title of " Reform of the Italian Thea- 
 tre " ; which contained his Merope aud two comedies, 
 the Ceremonies and Rajout. The tragedy met with 
 general applause ; but the two comedies were not so 
 successful. 
 
 Not finding M. Maffei at Verona, I took the road to 
 l/^^ Brescia, and stopped for the night at Desenzano, on 
 j,** 1 the Lago di Garda. Supping at the tahle-d'hote, where, 
 notwithstanding my chagrin, I ate with the best ap- 
 petite in the world, I happened to be seated beside 
 an abbé of the town of Salo, whose agreeable conver- 
 sation prompted me to visit that charming country, 
 where we proceed through orange-trees in the open 
 air, and always along the banks of a delightful lake. 
 Another reason determined me to turn aside from my 
 road. I was very short of money. Fortunately, my 
 mother was proprietor of a house at Salô, and, beiug 
 known to the tenant, I had reason to flatter myself 
 that I should obtain something from him. 
 
 It was but four leagues from Deseuzano to Salo, and 
 the abbé and myself proposed this journey on horse- 
 back for the sake of enjoying the pleasure of the road. 
 On the third day I returned alone, after a great deal of 
 amusement, with a few sequins in my pocket, advanced 
 me by my mother's tenant. I paid the driver, who 
 waited my return, his three days' repose, and resumed 
 the Brescia road. 
 
 
 7
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 147 
 
 When at Vieenzaj I wrote to M. Novello, whom I ' ( 
 
 had known at Feltre in the quality of vicar of the 
 government, and who was then assessor of the gov- 
 ernor of Brescia. I alighted at the government-pal- 
 
 M6! ML. Novello received me very graciously ; and, 
 recollecting some comic trifles composed by me at Fel- 
 tre, he asked me in the course of the evening, at sup- 
 per, whether I had anything of the same kind to show , 
 him. I mentioned my opera, which he expressed a 
 curiosity to hear. We fixed on the following day.— r 
 He invited to dinner along with us several literary 
 men, of whom there are many in that part of the coun- j/ £o 
 try in deserved estimation, and after coffee I commenced 
 my drama, which was listened to with attention, and l \ I 
 unanimously applauded. 
 
 As my judges were connoisseurs, I had every reason N 
 to he satisfied. They even analyzed my piece. The 
 character of Amalasonte was well imagined and well .^y 1 
 sustained, and was a moral lesson for queen-mothers 
 charged with the guardianship and education of their 
 august children. The good and had courtiers, artfully 
 contrasted, formed an interesting picture, and the un- 
 fortunate catastrophe ofAtalaric and the triumph of 
 Amalasonte formed a denouement, which, while it sat- 
 isfied the severe laws of tragedy, was productive of the 
 entertainment and pleasure peculiar to the melodrama. 
 My style appeared to this judicious assembly more 
 adapted to tragedy than music, and they could have 
 wished me to suppress the airs and the rhyme for the 
 sake of converting it into a good tragedy. I thanked 
 them for their indulgence, hut I was not in a situation 
 to profit by their advice. In Italy a tragedy with all t 
 the excellence of Corneille or Racine might have v ^~ -' 
 gained me high honor, but very little profit ; and I was 

 
 148 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in want of both. I quitted Brescia with the determi- 
 ç.* f nation of leaving my drama untouched, and of offering 
 it to the opera of Milan. 
 
 There is a shorter way from Brescia to Milan, but I 
 was desirous of seeing Bergamo, and I took the road 
 by that city. In traversing the country of Harlequin, 
 I was curious to observe whether there was any existing 
 trace of that comic character which afforded such en- 
 tertainment to the Italian theatre. I could see neither 
 the black visages, nor the small eyes, nor the ludicrous 
 party-colored dress, but I observed the hair tails in the 
 hats with winch the peasants of those districts are still 
 equipped. I shall speak of the mask and of the char- 
 acter and origin of Harlequin in a chapter dedicated to 
 the history of the four masks of Italian comedy. On 
 mv arrival at Bergamo, I alighted at an inn in the 
 suburbs, as carriages are unable to ascend to the town, 
 which is very high and very steep. I went on foot to 
 the government quarter, which is precisely the summit 
 of this rough mountain. Extremely fatigued, and 
 cursing my idle curiosity, knowing nobody, and re- 
 quiring repose, I at last remembered that M. Porta, 
 my old companion in the criminal chancery of Chiozza, 
 had been appointed civil chancellor of Bergamo. I 
 inquired for his residence, which I found out : my 
 friend, however, was not at home, but six leagues dis- 
 tant, on a commission relative to his office. I re- 
 quested his servant to allow me to rest myself a mo- 
 ment, and in the" course of my conversation with him 
 rl asked who was governor of the town. What pleas- 
 ing news ! What an agreeable surprise for me ! It 
 was his excellency Bonfadini, he who was podestà at 
 Chiozza while I served there in quality of vice-chan- 
 cellor. ' I found myself all at once quite at home, and
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 149 
 
 I went immediately to the palace and announced my- 
 self. 
 
 While I was in the antechamber waiting for ad- 
 mission, I heard the governor himself laughing and r ^^f 
 exclaiming aloud, "Ah! the astrologer! It is the as- *; 
 trologer! Show him in. Ladies, you shall see the 
 astrologer." I could not conceive the meaning of all 
 this; I was afraid lest an attempt should be made toW*' 
 hold me up to ridicule, and I entered under very con- 
 siderable embarrassment. The governor soon quieted 
 my apprehensions, and put me at my ease. He rose, 
 and came forward to receive me, and introduce me to 
 his lady and the society : " This is M. Goldoni ; do not 
 
 you recollect, ladies, the Countess C , whom we used 
 
 to rally on account of being perpetually at her toilet 
 and never at mass, and the prognostication of the anon- 
 ymous author? Well, this is M. Goldoni, the author 
 of the Critical Almanac in question." On this every 
 one was anxious to show me some attention; the gov- 
 ernor invited me to his house and his table ; an invita- 
 tion which I accepted and profited by, for fifteen days 
 passed by me in the most agreeable manner in the 
 world. I was obliged, however, to make one with the 
 ladies at play, and I was neither rich nor fortunate. . v 
 
 The governor, who was both respectful and consider- V^ 
 ate, abstained from inquiring into the motives of my 
 journey. After a few days, however, I thought proper 
 to communicate my adventures and my situation to 
 him. He felt for me, and offered to keep me with him 
 during the ten remaining months of his government ; 
 an offer for which I thanked him, but which I could 
 not accept. I requested him, however, to give me 
 letters of recommendation for Milan ; and he gave me 
 several, and, among others, I received one from his
 
 150 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lady for the Resident of Venice, which proved of great 
 utility to me. On the expiration of fifteen days I took 
 my leave of his excellency. My air was by uo means 
 expressive of content. He questioned me closely on 
 the subject : but I did not dare to say anything ; yet 
 he could easily perceive that my embarrassment did 
 not proceed from excessive wealth. He opened his 
 purse, I refused ; he iusisted. I modestly took ten 
 sequins, for which I wished to give him my note, but 
 he refused to take it. What goodness and kindness ! I 
 took my departure next day, and continued my journey. 
 
 I arrived at length at Milan, the venerable capital 
 of Lombardy, the ancient appanage of the Spanish 
 monarchy, where I should have appeared with the 
 cloak and ruff, according to the Castilian costume, had 
 not the satiric Muse deprived me of the place for which 
 I was destined. I was now a candidate for the cothur- 
 nus ; but the honors of a triumph were reserved for the 
 sock. I went to lodge at the Hotel del Pozzo, one of 
 the most famous iu Milan ; for if we wish to exhibit 
 ourselves to advantage, we must, at least, appear rich, 
 if we be not so in reality ; and next day I carried the 
 letter of recommendation of the governor's lady to the 
 Resident of Venice. 
 
 M. Bartolini, secretary of the senate, and formerly 
 vice-bay at Constantinople, was then resident. He 
 was very rich, very maguificent, and in as high consid- 
 eration at Milan as at Venice. Several years after- 
 wards he was uamed, by election grand chancellor of 
 the republic; a dignity which he continued to enjoy to 
 the period of his death, which gives the title of " excel- 
 lency ,? to the person who holds it, and gives him a 
 place immediately after the actual nobility. The Resi- 
 dent of Venice being the only foreign minister resident
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 151 
 
 at Milan, on account of the daily affairs which take 
 place between the two neighboring states, the Venetian 
 envoy enjoys the highest consideration, and is consid- 
 ered on an equal footing with grandees of the duchy of 
 Milan. 
 
 This minister received ine in the most frank and 
 encouraging manner. He had a high esteem for the 
 lady by whom I was recommended, anrl offered every 
 assistance within his own power, or within the reach 
 of his interest ; but with a grave and ministerial air he 
 inquired into the motives of my journey to Milan, and 
 the nature of the adventures mentioned in the letter of 
 Madame Bonfadini. The question was natural and 
 proper, and my answer simple. I related to him, from 
 beginning to end, the whole story of the aunt and^ the 
 niece. The resident was acquainted with the persons, 
 and laughed heartily at my recital; and with respect 
 to the fear expressed by me, lest I should be pursued 
 and molested, he assured me that I need be under no 
 apprehension at Milan. 
 
 The naïveté of my conversation, and the detail of my 
 adventures, led the minister to conclude I was by no 
 means rich ; and he asked me in a very noble man- 
 ner, if I stood in need of anything for my present 
 supply. I thanked him ; I had still some of my Ber- 
 gamo sequins, and I had my opera, and wanted assist- 
 ance from nobody. M. Bartolini invited me to dine 
 with him next day ; I accepted his invitation, and took 
 my leave of him. 
 
 I was eager to present my piece, and to have it read. 
 We were then in the very time of the carnival. There 
 was an opera at Milan, and I was acquainted with 
 CafFariello, the principal actor, and also - with the 
 director and composer of the ballets, and his wife
 
 152 MEMOIKS OF 
 
 (Madame Grossatesta), who was the principal dancer. 
 I thought it would look becoming, and be of advan- 
 tage, for me to be presented to the directors of the 
 Milan theatre by known individuals. On a Friday, a 
 day of relaxation throughout almost all Italy, I waited 
 in the evening on Madame Grossatesta, who kept an 
 open house, where the actors, actresses, and dancers 
 of the opera usually assembled. This excellent dancer, 
 who was my countrywoman, and whom I .knew at 
 Venice, received me with the utmost politeness ; and 
 her husband, a clever and well-informed Modenese, 
 had a dispute with his wife respecting my country, in 
 which he very gallantly maintained that by descent 
 mine was the same as his own. It was still early, and 
 as we were almost alone, I took advantage of that cir- 
 cumstance to announce my project to them. They were 
 enchanted with it, and promised to introduce me, and 
 they congratulated me beforehand on the reception of 
 my work. 
 
 The company continued to increase ; Caffariello 
 made his appearance, saw and recognized me, saluted 
 me with the tone of an Alexander, and took his place 
 beside the mistress of the house. A few minutes after- 
 wards, Count Prata, one of the directors of the theatre, 
 the most skilled in everything relative to the drama, 
 was announced. Madame Grossatesta introduced me 
 to the count and spoke to him of my opera, and he 
 undertook to propose me to the assembly of directors ; 
 but it would afford him infinite pleasure, he said, to 
 know something of my work ; a wish in which he was 
 joined by my countrywoman. I wanted nothing so 
 much as an opportunity of reading it. A small table 
 and a candle were brought towards us, round which 
 we all seated ourselves, and I began to read. I an-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 1 
 
 ■JO 
 
 nounced the title of " Arnalasonte." Caffariello sang 
 the word " Ainalasonte n ; it was long, and seemed ridicu- 
 lous to him. Everybody laughed bat myself: the lady 
 scolded, and the nightingale was silent. I read over the 
 names of the characters, of which there were nine in 
 the piece. Here a small shrill voice, which proceeded 
 from an old castrato who sung in the choruses, and 
 who mewed like a cat, cried out, "Too many, too 
 many ; there are at least two characters too many." 
 I saw that I was by no means at my ease, and wished 
 to give over my reading. M. Prata imposed silence on 
 this insolent fellow, who had not the merit of Cana- 
 ri Ho to excuse him, and, turning to me, observed, "It 
 is true, sir, there are usually not more than six or 
 seven characters in a drama; but when a work is de- 
 serving of it, we willingly put ourselves to the expense 
 of two actors. Have the goodness," he added, "to 
 continue the reading, if you please." 
 
 I resumed my reading, — Act first, scene first, Clode- 
 sile and Arpagon. Here M. Caffariello again asked me 
 the name of the first soprano in my opera. " Sir," said I, 
 " it is Clodesile." " What ! " said he, " you open the 
 scene with the principal actor, and make him appear 
 while all the people enter, seat themselves, and make a 
 noise. Truly, sir, I am not your man." (What pa- 
 tience!) M. Prata here interposed. " Let us see," said 
 he, " whether the scene is interesting." I read the 
 first scene, and while I was repeating my verses, a lit- 
 tle insignificant wretch drew a paper from his pocket, 
 and went to the harpsichord to recite an air in his part. 
 The mistress of the house was obliged to make me ex- 
 cuses without intermission. M. Prata took me by the 
 hand, and conducted me into a dressing-closet at a con- 
 siderable distance from the room.
 
 154 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The count, having requested me to seat myself, sat 
 down beside me and endeavored to pacify me respect- 
 ing the misbehavior of a set of giddy fools. He re- 
 quested me to read my drama to himself alone, that he 
 might be able to form a judgment of it, and to tell me 
 his opinion with sincerity. I was very well pleased with 
 this act of complaisance, for which I returned him my 
 thanks, and I began the reading of my piece, which I 
 went through from the first verse to the last, not spar- 
 ing him a single comma. He listened with attention, 
 with patience ; and, on the conclusion of the reading, 
 he gave me the result of his attention and judgment 
 nearly in the fol] owing words : — 
 
 " It appears to me," said he, " that you have tolera- 
 bly well studied the poetics of Aristotle and Horace, 
 and that you have written your piece according to the. 
 principles of tragedy. You do not seem to be aware 
 that a musical drama is an imperfect work, subject to 
 rules and customs destitute of common sense, I am 
 willing to allow, but which still require to be literally 
 followed. Were you in France, you might take more 
 pains to please the publie : but here you must begin by 
 pleasing the actors and actresses ; you must satisfy the 
 musical composer: you must consult the scene-painter: 
 every department has its rules, and it would be treason 
 against the drama to dare to infringe on them, or to 
 fail in their observance. 
 
 '• Listen." lie continued, "I shall point out to you 
 a few of those rules which are immutable, and with 
 which you do not seem to be acquainted. The three 
 principal personages of the drama ought to sing five 
 airs each : two in the first act, two in the second, and 
 one in the third. The second actress and the second 
 soprano can only have three, and the inferior characters
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 155 
 
 must he satisfied with a single air each, or two at the 
 most The author of the words must furnish the musi- 
 cian with the different shades which form the chiaro- 
 scuro of music, and take care that two pathetic airs do 
 not succeed each other. He must distribute with the 
 same precaution the bravura airs, the airs of action, the 
 inferior airs, and the minuets and rondeaus. 
 
 "He must, above all things, avoid giving impassioned 
 airs, bravura airs, or rondeaus, to inferior characters ; 
 those poor devils must be satisfied with what they get, 
 and every opportunity of distinguishing themselves is 
 denied them." 
 
 M. Prata would have gone on; but I interrupted 
 him. " You have told me enough, sir/' said I to him, 
 li do not take the trouble of enlarging farther on the 
 subject. I again returned him my thanks, and took my 
 leave. I perceived at last that my judges at Brescia 
 were in the right, and that Count Trissino of Vicenza 
 was still more in the right, and that I alone was wrong. 
 On returning to my lodgings, I felt one moment hot and 
 the next cold; I was quite crestfallen. I drew my 
 piece from my pocket, and at sight of it I felt half 
 inclined to tear it to pieces. The waiter of the inn 
 entered, and inquired what I wished for supper. "I 
 shall not sup," I answered, "but make up a good lire." 
 I still had my Amalasonte in my hands ; I kept read- 
 ing a few of the verses, which I thought charming. 
 "Accursed rules! My piece is good, I am certain of it; 
 but the theatre is bad, and the actors, actresses, com- 
 posers, decorators — may tl:e devil take them all ! And 
 thou, unfortunate production, which hast cost me so 
 much labor, and deceived my hopes and expectations, 
 I consign thee to the devouring flames ! " On this I 
 threw it into the lire, and looked upon it while burn-
 
 15G MEMOIRS OF 
 
 iug, with a sort of cool complacency. My chagrin and 
 indignation required some vent: I turned my vengeance 
 against myself, and then I deemed myself sufficiently 
 revenged. All was over, and the piece entirely out of 
 my head : but on stirring up the ashes with the tongs, 
 and collecting the remains of my manuscript to com- 
 plete the work of destruction. I began to reflect that on 
 no occasion had I sacrificed my supper to my chagrin. 
 I called the waiter, and ordered him to cover the table 
 instantly. I had not long to wait ; I ate heartily, and 
 drank still more so; I then went tu bed, and enjoyed a 
 profound sleep. 
 
 The only thing extraordinary was, that I awoke next 
 morning two hours sooner than usual. Unpleasant 
 remembrances now began to influence my mind. 
 "Come, come," said I to myself, "no ill-humor; 
 pluck up courage, and call on the Resident of Venice." 
 He had invited me to dinner ; and, that I might have a 
 private interview with him, it was requisite that I 
 should visit him instantly. I accordingly dressed my- 
 self and set out. The minister, seeing me at nine 
 o'clock in the morning, suspected that something par- 
 ticular had urged my visit. He received me in his 
 dressing-room. I gave him to understand that I wished 
 to speak to him privately, and he gave orders for his 
 servants to leave us- I related to him what had hap- 
 pened the preceding day. I gave him a description of 
 the disagreeable conversation which had so much 
 shocked me ; communicated the opinion of Count 
 Prata to him ; and I concluded with observing that I 
 was the most embarrassed man in the world. 
 
 M. Bartoliui was much amused with the account of 
 the comic scene of the three heroic actors, and asked 
 me to allow him to read my opera. u My opera, sir ?
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 157 
 
 It is no longer in existence." " What have you done 
 with it .' " " I have burnt it ! " " Y< m have burnt it \ " 
 "Yes, sir, I have burned my whole stock, my sole 
 property, all my resources and my hopes." The minis- 
 ter laughed still more heartily at this, and after laugh- 
 iug and t aU»"g for some time, the result was that I took 
 up my residence with him ; that he received me in the 
 character of gentleman of his chamber, gave me a very 
 pretty apartment ; and, notwithstanding my disappoint- 
 ment, I found, taking everything into consideration, 
 that I was rather a gainer than a loser. 
 
 My employment was confined to agreeable commis- 
 sions, such as complimenting noble Venetians on their 
 travels, or waiting upon the governor or magistrates 
 of Milan in the business of the republic. These occa- 
 sions were by no means frequent, and I had all my lei- 
 sure at my disposal, for my amusement or otherwise as 
 I might think proper. 
 
 There came to this town, in the beginning of Lent, a 
 mountebank of a singular description, whose name de- 
 serves a place perhaps in the annals of the age. His 
 name was Bonafede Vitali ; he was a native of Parma, 
 and he styled himself the Anonymous. He was of a 
 good family, had received an excellent education, and 
 had been a Jesuit. Disgusted with the cloister, he 
 a] tplicd to the study of medicine, and succeeded in ob- 
 taining a professor's chair in the University of Palermo. 
 This singular man, to whom no branch of science was 
 unknown, possessed an inordinate ambition to display 
 the extent of his knowledge : and, as he was a better 
 orator than a writer, he quitted the honorable situation 
 which he occupied, for the purpose of mounting the 
 stage and haranguing the public; but as he was not 
 rich enough to be satisfied with mere glory, he turned
 
 1Ô8 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 his talents to account by vending his medicines. This 
 was nothing more nor less than playing the mounte- 
 bank ; but his specific remedies were good, and his sci- 
 ence and eloquence procured for him a reputation and 
 a degree of consideration by no means common. He 
 resolved publicly all the most difficult questions which 
 were proposed to him in every science and on the most 
 abstruse subjects. Problems, points of criticism, his- 
 tory, and literature, were handed up to him on his em- 
 pirical stage, and he returned an immediate answer, 
 and gave very satisfactory dissertations. He appeared 
 some years afterwards at Venice. He was sent for to 
 Verona ou account of an epidemical disease, which cut 
 off all who were attacked by it. His arrival in that 
 town resembled the appearance of Esculapius in Greece; 
 he cured everybody with a particular sort of apple 
 (pommes d'api), and Cyprus wine. In gratitude for 
 this, he was named first physician of Verona ; but he 
 did not enjoy that dignity long, having died the same 
 year, regretted by everybody excepting the physicians. 
 When at Milan, the Anonymous had the satisfaction 
 of seeing the place where he exhibited always filled 
 with crowds of people on foot and in carriages ; but 
 as the learned were far from being the best pur- 
 chasers, he was obliged to furnish his scaffold with ob- 
 jects calculated to attract and entertain the ignorant 
 multitude, and the new Hippocrates vended his drugs 
 and displayed his rhetoric, surrounded with the- four 
 masks of the Italian comedy. M. Bonafede Vitali had 
 als< « a passu »n for comedy, and kept up at his own ex- 
 pense a complete company of comedians, who, after 
 assisting their master in receiving the money thrown 
 up in handkerchiefs, and returning the same handker- 
 chiefs filled with small pots or boxes, represented
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 159 
 
 pieces in three acts, with the help of torches of white 
 wax, in a style which might be called magnificent. I 
 wished to become acquainted with the Anonymous, as 
 much on account of the extraordinary man himself, as 
 for the sake of his assistance. I called on him one 
 day. under the pretext of purchasing his antidote. He 
 interrogated me respecting the disease which I had, or 
 which I believed myself to have ; and he soon per- 
 ceived that it was mere curiosity which brought me to 
 his house. He gave orders to bring me a good cup of 
 chocolate, which, lie said, was the most suitable medi- 
 cine for my disease. I was delighted with this piece 
 of politeness. We conversed together for some time, 
 and I found him as amiable in private as he was 
 learned in public. In the course of our conversation 
 I informed him that I was attached to the Resident of 
 Venice. It occurred to him that I might be able to 
 assist him in a certain project, which he communicated 
 to me. I undertook to serve him, and I was fortunate 
 enough to succeed. The affair was this : (but do not, 
 my dear reader, let this digression disgust you, for you 
 will soon perceive how necessary it is for the connec- 
 tion of my story.) 
 
 The theatres of Milan were closed during Lent, as is 
 usual throughout Italy. The theatre for the represen- 
 tation of comedy was to have opened at Easter, and an 
 engagement for that purpose had been entered into with 
 one of the best theatrical companies ; but the director, 
 having received an invitation into Germany, set out 
 without giving the slightest notice, and left the Milan- 
 ese quite unprovided. The town, being then without 
 entertainments, proposed to send to Venice and Bo- 
 logna to raise a company. The Anonymous was 
 desirous that the preference should be given to his,
 
 160 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 which certainly was not excellent, but- which, never- 
 theless, contained three or four individuals of merit, and 
 which, on the whole, was very well arranged. In fact, 
 M. Casali, who acted the principal lovers, and M. 
 Euhini, who was an admirable pantaloon, were both 
 called the following year to Venice, the first for the 
 theatre of St. Samuel, and the other for that of St. 
 Luke. I willingly accepted of a commission, which 
 promised every way to be agreeable to me. I imparted 
 it to the minister, who undertook to speak to the prin- 
 cipal ladies of that city. I myself mentioned the busi- 
 ness to Count Prata, whose acquaintance I continued to 
 cultivate ; I employed my own credit, and that of the 
 Resident of Venice, with the governor ; and in three 
 days' time the contract was signed, and the Anonymous 
 satisfied ; and I had, by way of recompense, a second 
 box in front, large enough to contain ten persons. 
 Availing myself of this company, with which I was 
 on an intimate footing, I resumed the composition of 
 some theatrical trifles. I should not have had suffi- 
 cient time for a comedy, as the arrangement with the 
 Anonymous was merely for the spring and summer, to 
 the month of September ; and as there was a musical 
 composer, and a male and female who sang pretty well 
 in the company, I composed an interlude for two 
 voices, under the title of the " Venetian Gondolier," 
 which was executed with all the success that such a spe- 
 cies of composition ought to have. This is the first 
 comic production of mine which appeared in public and 
 afterwards in print : for it was published in the fourth 
 volume or the Venetian edition of my comic operas by 
 Pasquali. 
 
 Whilst they were acting my Venetian Gondolier at 
 Milan, together with sketches or outlines of comedies,
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 161 
 
 the first representation of Belisarins was given out, 
 and it was continually announced during six days to 
 excite the public curiosity and secure a full house. In 
 this the comedians were not deceived. The theatre of 
 Milan at that time, afterwards burnt down, — the almost 
 universal destiny of theatres, — was the largest in Italy 
 next to that of Naples ; and on the first representation of 
 Belisarius, the crowd was so great that the passages 
 even were choked up. But what a detestable piece ! 
 Justinian was imbecile, Theodora a courtesan, and 
 Belisarius a long-winded divine. He appeared on the 
 stage deprived of his eyes ; Harlequin was his guide, 
 and drove him along with a cudgel. Everybody was 
 shocked, and no one more so than myself, having dis- 
 tributed a number of tickets t i persons of the first merit. 
 Next day I called on Casali, who fell a laughing 
 when he saw me, and said in a bantering tone, " Very 
 well, sir ; what do you think of our famous Beli- 
 sarius ! " " I think," said I, " that it is such a piece 
 of indignity to the public as I could hardly have ex- 
 pected. 7 ' " Alas, sir," he replied, " you know but 
 little of actors. There is not a company which does 
 not occasionally fall upon similar tricks to gain money; 
 and this in the theatrical jargon is called una arrostita 
 (roasting). " What do you mean by arrostita f " said 
 I. " It means," he answered, "in good Tuscan, una 
 corbeUatura; in the Lombard dialect una minchionada ; 
 and in French une attrape (a trick). The actors are 
 in the habit of availing themselves of it, and the pub- 
 lic is accustomed to suffer it ; all are not equally deli- 
 cate, and the arrostitas will be continued till they are 
 suppressed by a reform." " I entreat of yon, M. Casali," 
 said I, " not to roast ine a second time; and I advise 
 you to burn your Belisarius, for there never was any- 
 thing, I believe, more detestable."
 
 162 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 "You are in the right," said he; "but I am per- 
 suaded that a good piece might be made of this bad 
 one." " Undoubtedly," I observed; "for the history 
 
 of Belisarius may furnish the subject of au excellent 
 piece." "Well, sir," replied Casali, "as you are de- 
 sirous of laboring for the theatre, you caunot do bet- 
 ter than begin with this." " Xo," said I, "I will 
 begin with a tragedy." " Make a tragi-coinedy of it." 
 "Not in the taste of yours." " Let there be no 
 masks nor buffoonery." " I shall see what I can do." 
 " Stop a moment, here is Belisarius." " I don't want 
 it : I shall take history for my guide." " So much the 
 better ; I recommend my friend Justinian to you." " I 
 shall do the best I can." " I am not rich, but I shall 
 endeavor — " " Nonsense." " I write for my amuse- 
 ment." " I must impart a secret to you, sir. I am 
 going next year to Venice, and if I could only carry a 
 Belisarius along with me, — a magnificent Belisarius 
 (infiochi)." "You shall have it perhaps. "But you 
 must promise me." "Well, I do promise." "On your 
 honor f " " On my honor." With this, Casali was 
 satisfied ; and I quitted him and returned home, de- 
 termined to keep my word with him carefully and 
 religiously. 
 
 The resident, knowing that I was returned, sent for 
 me for the purpose of informing me that he was on the 
 point of setting out for Venice on particular business, 
 having- received permission from the senate to absent 
 himself from Milan for some days. He had a Milanese 
 secretary: but they were not on good tenus with each 
 other. The secretary was somewhat too fastidious, 
 and the minister was subject to very violent sallies of 
 passion. He honored me with several commissions, 
 and as there was reason to apprehend from the rumors
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 163 
 
 which were in circulation that Lombardy was on the 
 point of being implicated in a war. he charged me, 
 
 amollir other things, to write to him every day. and to 
 be an attentive observer of everything which should 
 take place. This was encroaching on the duties of the 
 secretary; but I could not refuse, and it would have 
 been in vain to argne the point with the minister. I 
 did not fail to execute the commissions intrusted to 
 me : hut I endeavored, at the same time, J,o undertake 
 the work which I promised to execute on my word of 
 honor. 
 
 In a few days I completed the first act. I com- 
 municated it to If. Casali, who was enchanted with it, 
 and wished to copy it instantly: bnt two events took 
 place at the same time, the first of which retarded toy 
 progress in the work, and the other prevented me from 
 working for a long time. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Early one morning my servant burst into my room 
 and drew aside the curtain. On seeing me awake, he 
 exclaimed, "Ah, sir! I have great news to tell you: 
 fifteen thousand Savoyards, horse and toot, have taken 
 possession of the city, and are drawn up in the square 
 of the cathedral." Astonished at this piece of unex- 
 pected news, I put a hundred questions to my lackey. 
 who knew nothing more than what he had already told 
 me. I dressed myself with all possible expedition, and 
 repaired to the coffee-house, where ten people en- 
 deavored to speak at once to me. All were anxious to 
 he the first to inform me; and I had many different 
 accounts, but the following is actually what took place. 
 We were in the commencement of the war of 1733.
 
 164 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 called the war of Don Carlos. The King of Sardinia, 
 having declared himself for that prince, had united his 
 forces with those of France and Spain against the 
 house of Austria. The Savoyards, having marched 
 all night, arrived by break of day at the gates of Milan. 
 The general demanded the keys of the town, and, Milan 
 being too large for a defence, the keys were accordingly 
 delivered over to him. Without inquiring farther into 
 the matter, I deemed myself sufficiently instructed to 
 communicate the event to the resident. I returned 
 and wrote an account of it, which I sent off express to 
 Venice, and three days afterwards the Venetian minister 
 returned to Milan. 
 
 In the mean time the French troops soon made their 
 appearance, and joined their allies the Sardinians, 
 and they formed together that large army which was 
 called by the Italians Tarmata dei Gallo-Sardi. The 
 allies prepared for laying siege to the castle of Milan, 
 and they made approaches for the purpose of battering 
 the citadel, which obliged the inhabitants of the parade 
 to shift their quarters. The besieging army soon began 
 to open their trenches and to construct their covered 
 ways : the siege proceeded rapidly ; the batteries kept 
 firing night and day, and the guns of the citadel an- 
 swered those of the besiegers. The bombs now and 
 then improperly directed paid us a visit in the town. 
 
 A few days afterwards my minister received a ducal 
 letter in parchment, and sealed with lead, from a courier 
 of the republic of Venice, directing him to leave Milan 
 and take up his residence at Crema during the war. 
 This information the resident immediately communi- 
 cated to me. He took this opportunity to get rid of 
 his secretary, whom he disliked, and he conferred this 
 honorable and lucrative situation on me, and ordered 
 me to hold myself in readiness to set out next day.
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 165 
 
 Crama is a town belonging to the republic of Venice, 
 and is governed by a noble Venetian with the title of 
 podestà. It lies forty-eight leagues from the capital 
 and nine from the city of Milan. The Resident of Ven- 
 ice was enabled in this town to have an eye over every- 
 thing that was taking place, and to watch the designs of 
 the belligerent powers without committing the republie, 
 which was neuter, and which could not acknowledge the 
 new masters of the Milanese. But this "minister was 
 not the only person similarly employed; for a senator 
 had been despatched from Venice to Crema at the same 
 time, with the title of extraordinary proveditorj and 
 both exerted themselves to the utmost of their power 
 in keeping "up correspondences and transmitting the 
 most recent and certain information to the senate. 
 
 We received every day at least ten, twelve, and even 
 sometimes so many as twenty letters from Milan, Turin, 
 Brescia, and every part of the country, through which 
 troops were to pass or where forage or stores were de- 
 manded. It was my business to open them, compare 
 them, make extracts from them, and then to project a 
 despatch agreeably to the most uniform and most satis- 
 factory accounts. The minister, guided by my labors, 
 made his selections accordingly, and afterwards pro- 
 ceeded to make his remarks and reflections, and we 
 sometimes despatched four messengers in the course of 
 one day to the capital. This exercise gave me, no 
 doubt, a great deal of employment, but I was infinitely 
 amused by it. I became in this manner initiated into 
 the knowledge of politics and diplomacy, from which I 
 derived very great advantage when I was named four 
 years afterwards Genoese consul at Venice. 
 
 After a siege of twenty days, during four of which 
 there was a practicable breach, the castle of Milan was
 
 166 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 under the necessity of capitulating, having demanded 
 and obtained all the honors of war, drums beating, col- 
 ors flying, and covered wagons to Mantua, which was 
 the general rendezvous of the Germans, who were not 
 yet sufficiently strong to oppose the progress of their 
 enemies. The combined armies, profiting by this fa- 
 vorable conjuncture, laid siege a few days afterwards to 
 Pizzighetone, a small frontier town iu the Cremonese, 
 at the confluence of the Serio and Ada, very well forti- 
 fied and possessing a very considerable citadel. The 
 theatre of war advancing nearer and nearer to Crema, 
 we were the better enabled to procure news, as we 
 could distinctly hear the discharge of the guns; but 
 hostilities did not proceed much farther, for the Ger- 
 mans, who were in expectation of orders from A'ienna 
 or Mantua, demanded an armistice of three days, which 
 was readily granted to them. 
 
 On this occasion I was sent, in the quality of an hon- 
 orable spy, to the camp of the allies. It is impossible 
 to draw with accuracy such a picture as a camp pre- 
 sents during an armistice; the most brilliant festivity 
 prevails, and altogether it exhibits the most astonishing 
 spectacle which it is possible to imagine. A bridge 
 thrown over the breach afforded a communication be- 
 tween the besiegers and the besieged : tables were 
 spread in every quarter, and the officers entertained one 
 another by turns : within and without, under tents and 
 arbors, there was nothing but balls, entertainments, 
 and concerts. All the people of the environs flocked 
 there on foot, on horseback, and in carriages : provis- 
 ions arrived from every quarter ; abundance was seen 
 in a moment, and there was no want of stage doctors 
 and tumblers. It was a charming fair, a delightful 
 rendezvous. I enjoyed it for several hours every day;
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 167 
 
 and on the third I saw the German garrison march out 
 with the same honors as those which had been granted 
 to the castle of Milan. I was amused to see French 
 and Piedmontese soldiers leaving their standards and 
 thrusting themselves in the midst of the ranks of their 
 countrymen, and thus desert with impunity. 
 
 In the evening I made a report of all that I saw or 
 learned to the minister; and I ventured to assure him, 
 in consequence of the conversations whk-h I had had 
 with different officers, that the combined armies were 
 to encamp in the duchies of Parma and Piacenza for 
 the purpose of securing them from the incursions which 
 there was every reason to apprehend from the Germans. 
 The event corresponded with the information ; the allies 
 gradually defiled towards the Cremonese and established 
 themselves in the environs of Parma, where the duchess- 
 dowager, at the head of the regency, governed the state. 
 The distance of the troops diminished my labor very 
 much, and afforded me leisure to apply to more agree- 
 able occupations. I resumed my Belisarius, on which 
 I employed myself with great assiduity and interest, 
 and I never quitted it till it was finished, and till I 
 thought I had every reason to be satisfied. 
 
 In the mean time my brother, who on the death of 
 M. Visnoni had quitted the service of Venice, and re- 
 paired to Modena, in the hopes of being employed by 
 the duke, having been disappointed in this expecta- 
 tion, came to join me at Crema. I received him in a 
 very friendly manner, and presented him to the resi- 
 dent, from whom he received the place of gentleman, 
 formerly occupied by myself. But if the one was hot 
 and impatient, the other was fiery in the extreme ; and 
 they could not ajcree together. The resident gave my 
 brother his dismissal, and he took his leave in very bad 
 humor.
 
 168 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The ill-conduct of my brother did me some injury 
 in the mind of the minister, who never afterwards had 
 the same kindness or friendship for me. A hypocriti- 
 cal Dominican contrived to worm himself into his con- 
 fidence, and when I was not in the way he wrote to 
 his dictation. All this had a tendency to disgust me. 
 My superior and myself were now two "beings discon- 
 tented with each other, and the following adventure 
 had the effect « >f producing a total rupture. 
 
 One day when I was in my chamber, a servant en- 
 tered with the information that I was wanted by the 
 minister. I made my appearance before the resident, 
 who gave me a manuscript to copy. It was the man- 
 ifesto of the King of Sardinia, with the reasons which 
 induced him to engage in the French cause. This pro- 
 duction was at that moment of some value, for the 
 original was still in the press at Turin, and it required 
 to be copied that it might be sent off to Venice. 
 
 The minister did not dine nor sup at home that day. 
 He ordered me to bring him the manuscript and copy 
 next morning when he awoke. The paper was pretty 
 voluminous and badly written, but it required despatch. 
 I returned to my room, and sat down instantly to work, 
 and labored at it till nine o'clock in the evening, taking 
 no other dinner than a cup of chocolate. On finishing, 
 I locked the two copies in my desk, and repaired to the 
 Stag inn. where I engaged in a faro party with four 
 gentlemen, none of whom were known to me. I punted 
 and won, and I durst not therefore go away first. "We 
 passed the whole night at play. When I looked at 
 my watch, I found it was seven o'clock in the morning. 
 I was still a winner, but I could not remain any longer; 
 and I therefore made my excuses to the company, and 
 took my leave of them.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 169 
 
 I met one of our servants a few steps from the inn, 
 by whom I was informed that I had been sought for 
 by order of the resident in every corner. He rose at 
 five o'clock in the morning, and asked for me; and on 
 being told that I had slept out all night, he became 
 quite furious. I made all the haste I could home, and 
 entered my chamber, from which I took the two papers, 
 and delivered them to the minister. He gave me a 
 very unpleasant reception, and even went s<> far as to 
 suspect me of having communicated the King of Sar- 
 dinia's manifest'» to the extraordinary proveditor of the 
 republic of Venice. This imputation hurt and dis- 
 tressed me very much, and, contrary to my usual mode 
 of behavior, I gave way to an impulse of passion. 
 The minister threatened to have me arrested. I quitted 
 him, and sought a refuge with the bishop of the town, 
 who took my part, and undertook to make op matters 
 with the resident. I thanked him for his kind inten- 
 tion ; but my resolution was taken to depart as soon 
 as my innocence should be established. The resident 
 had time to make inquiry where I had passed the 
 night, and his opinion of me underwent a change; but 
 I was unwilling to expose myself any more to similar 
 unpleasant scenes, and I asked permission to give up 
 my situation, which was accordingly granted. I called 
 on the minister for the purpose of excusing myself, and 
 returning him my thanks. I then packed up the dif- 
 ferent articles belonging to me, hired a chaise for 
 ftfodena, where my mother still remained, and set out 
 three days afterwards. 
 
 On arriving at Parma, the 28th of June, St. Peter's 
 Eve, in 1733, a memorable day for that town, I went 
 to lodge at the Osteria del Gallo. I was awaked next 
 morning by a dreadful noise. On springing out of bed,
 
 170 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and opening my room window, I perceived the place 
 full of people running in all directions, and rushing 
 against one another. There was nothing but weeping, 
 crying, and distress : I observed women carrying their 
 children in their arms, and others dragging them along 
 the ground ; men loaded with hampers, baskets, trunks, 
 and packages; old men unable to support themselves; 
 sick persons in their shirts; carts upturned and the 
 horses running about loose. "What is the meaning of 
 all this," said I ; " is it the end of the world ? n 
 
 I wrapped myself in my great-coat over my shirt, 
 rushed hastily down stairs to the kitchen ; but to all 
 my demands and questions I could receive no answer. 
 The innkeeper was packing up his plate, and his wife, 
 with her hair all dishevelled, held a box of jewels in 
 her band and her clothes in her apron. I wished to 
 speak to her, but she threw me against the door and 
 rushed out. "What is the matter? what is the mat- 
 ter?" I asked of every person I met. At length I 
 perceived a man at the stable-door, whom I recognized 
 to be my driver. I went up to hirn ; and he was able 
 to satisfy my curiosity. 
 
 ''The whole place is in uproar," said he, u and not 
 without reason ; for the Germans are at the gates of 
 the town, and if they enter it, it is sure to be pillaged. 
 Every one is taking refuge in the church, and con- 
 fiding their effects to the protection of God." "Will 
 the soldiers," said I to him, "have time for reflection 
 on such an occasion ! Besides, are all the Germans 
 Catholics ? " 
 
 While I was thus conversing with my guide, the 
 scene immediately changed, and nothing but cries of 
 joy, ringing of bells, and discharging of all manner of 
 fireworks, was to be heard. The churches were im-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 171 
 
 mediately empty, the property was earned back again, 
 friends were inquiring kindly for one another and em- 
 bracing in an affectionate manner. How was this 
 change brought about ? The affair was this : a spy in 
 the pay of both the allies and the Germans appeared 
 the night before in the camp of the former at the 
 village of St. Peter, a league distance from the city, 
 and gave information that a detachment of the Ger- 
 man troops were to forage the following day in the 
 environs of Parma with the intention of surprising the 
 town. The Marshal de Coigny, who then commanded 
 the army, detached the two regiments of Picardy and 
 Champagne to watch the enemy; but as this brave 
 general never failed in precaution or vigilance, he 
 caused the spy whom he distrusted to be arrested, and 
 gave orders that the whole camp should remain under 
 arms. M. de Coigny was not mistaken; on the two 
 regiments arriving within sight of the ramparts of the 
 town, they discovered the German army to the num- 
 ber of forty thousand, under Marshal de Mercy, with, 
 ten field -pieces. The French, who were advancing 
 on the highway, surrounded with large ditches, had 
 no means of retreat : they advanced boldly, but they 
 were nearly all cut down by the enemy's artillery. 
 
 This was the signal of surprise for the Freneh com- 
 mander. The spy was instantly hanged, and the army 
 began its march with the utmost expedition. The 
 road was confined and the cavalry could not advance ; 
 but the infantry made such a vigorous charge that 
 the enemy were forced to retreat, and it was then that 
 the alarm of the Parmesans was converted into joy. 
 Everybody ran to the ramparts of the town, and I 
 ran with the rest. It was impossible to have a nearer 
 view of a battle ; the smoke frequently prevented us
 
 172 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 from distinguishing objects ; but still we had a very 
 rare eoup-rVœil. such as few people can boast of hav- 
 ing enjoyed. A continual fire was kept up for nine 
 hours without interruption, and night separated the 
 two armies. The Germans dispersed themselves among 
 the mountains ofReggio, and the allies remained mas- 
 ters of the field of battle. Next day I saw Marshal 
 de Mercy, who was killed in the heat of the battle, 
 brought into Parma on a litter. This general was 
 embalmed and sent to Germany, as was also the Prince 
 of Wurtemberg, who shared the same fate. 
 
 But a much more horrible and disgusting spectacle 
 was seen by me in the afternoon of the following day. 
 This was the dead bodies which had been stripped 
 during the night, and which were said to amount to 
 twenty-four thousand. They were lying naked in 
 heaps; and limbs, arms, skulls, and blood were scat- 
 tered in all directions. What a carnage ! The Par- 
 mesans dreaded lest the air should be infected from 
 the difficulty of interring such a number of massacred 
 bodies ; but the republic of Venice, whose territories 
 are almost contiguous to those of Parma, and which 
 was interested in the preservation of the purity of the 
 air, sent an abundance of lime, that all these car- 
 cases might speedily disappear from the surface of the 
 earth. 
 
 On the third day after the battle I was desirous of 
 proceeding to Modena. My guide observed that the 
 roads in that direction were all impracticable, on ac- 
 count of the continual incursions of the troops of the 
 two parties. He added that if I wished to go to 
 Milan, to which place he belonged, he would conduct 
 me there, and if I were inclined to go to Brescia he 
 knew one of his comrades who was on the point of
 
 CAIÎLO GOLDONI. 173 
 
 setting out for that city with an abbe, whom I might 
 accompany. I accepted this last proposition. Brescia 
 
 was the more suitable place of the two for me, and I 
 set out next day with the Abbé Garoffini, a very well- 
 informed young man, who was a great lover of spec- 
 tacles. "We had a long conversation during our jour- 
 ney ; and, as I had the disease common to all authors, 
 I took care to mention my Belisarius. The abbé 
 expressed a curiosity to hear it ; and arour first dining 
 station I drew my piece from my trunk and began the 
 reading. I had not finished the first act before the 
 driver urged us to proceed. The abbé was displeased, 
 as he took an interest in the piece. " Never mind," 
 said I, "I can read in the carriage as well as here." 
 We resumed our seats in the chaise, and as the drivers 
 go very slowly, I continued my reading without the 
 slightest difficulty. 
 
 While we were both occupied in this manner, the 
 carriage suddenly stopped, and we observed five men 
 with mustachios and a military uniform, who with 
 drawn swords ordered us to alight. Could we hesi- 
 tate to obey the absolute orders of these gentlemen ? 
 I alighted at one side, and the abbé at the other. One 
 of them demanded my purse, which I instantly gave 
 him; another took -my watch ; a third rummaged my 
 pockets, and took my box, which was only shell: the 
 two last treated the abbé in the same manner: and the 
 whole five fell next upon our trunks, my little strong- 
 box, and our bandies of night-clothes. When the 
 driver found himself at liberty, he galloped off with 
 his horses, and I took to flight also. I sprang over a 
 very broad ditch, and ran across the fields, fearing that 
 the rascals might also wish to take my great-coat, my 
 coat and breeches, and even my life ; and I esteemed
 
 174 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 myself exceedingly fortunate in escaping with the loss 
 of my money and effects, and in haying sayed Belisa- 
 rius from the wreck. 
 
 Haying lost sight of the robbers, and not knowing 
 what was become of my travelling companion, I dis- 
 covered an avenue of trees, and I lay down tranquilly 
 "beside a stream. I allayed my thirst with the water 
 which I lifted to my mouth in the hollow of my hand, 
 and the water tasted delicious. Feeling myself ex- 
 hausted with fatigue, and my mind haying become 
 more calm, and not seeing any person to whom I could 
 apply, I took by chance one of the directions of the 
 avenue, which I was persuaded would terminate in 
 some inhabited place. I soon perceived laborers at 
 work in the field. I accosted them with confidence, 
 and communicated my adventure to them, of which 
 they knew something already, having seen the knaves . 
 who stripped us proceed along a cross road laden like 
 mules. They were deserters, who attacked passen- 
 gers, and did not even spare the hamlets and farm- 
 houses. Such are the unfortunate fruits of war, which 
 fall indiscriminately on friends and foes, and distress 
 the innocent. " How," said I, " can these robbers get 
 rid of the effects stolen by them in this manner with- 
 out being apprehended ? " The peasants were all 
 anxious to answer me, and their eagerness marked 
 their indignation. At a short distance from the place 
 where we then were, there was a company of rich in- 
 dividuals established and tolerated for the purpose of 
 purchasing the spoils of the victims of war ; and the 
 purchasers paid no attention whether the effects came 
 from the field of battle or the highway. 
 
 The sun was setting. These good people offered 
 me a small fragment of their repast, which, notwith-
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 175 
 
 standing my disaster, I ate with considerable appetite. 
 They invited me to pass the night with them, and I 
 was disposed to accept with gratitude the hospitality 
 of those kind individuals, when a respectable old man, 
 the father and grandfather of my benefactors, remarked 
 to me, that with them I could only repose on straw 
 and hay, and that it would be better to allow them to 
 conduct me to Casal Pasturlengo, which was only a 
 league distant, and where the parish" priest, a very 
 worthy and polite man, would receive and lodge me 
 with the utmost pleasure. This opinion met with 
 general applause. A young man undertook to conduct 
 me. I followed him, proffering thanks to Heaven, 
 which, while it tolerates the wicked, excites also kind 
 and virtuous hearts to relieve their fellow-creatures. 
 
 XII. 
 
 On arriving at Casal Pasturlengo, I desired my guide 
 to inform the clergyman of my accident. A few minutes 
 afterwards this worthy pastor came k> the door, offered 
 me his hand, and requested me to walk in. Enchanted 
 with this favorable reception, I turned towards the 
 young man by whom I had been escorted, and in 
 thanking him, I testified my regret at my inability to 
 recompense him. The clergyman perceived my em- 
 barrassment, and gave a few pence to the peasant, who 
 went away quite satisfied. This is a trifle, it is true ; 
 but it proves the way of thinking of a just and com- 
 passionate man. 
 
 The supper is taken at an early hour in the country. 
 That of the clergyman was ready when I arrived, and 
 I made no ceremony, but gladly shared with him what 
 had been prepared by his governante. Our conversa-
 
 176 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tion turned at "first on the war, and I mentioned what 
 I had seen at Parma, Milan, and Pizzighetone. In- 
 sensibly I found myself engaged in some details re- 
 specting my employment and occupations ; and my 
 discourse ended as usual with the article of Belisarius. 
 The ecclesiastic, who was a very wise and exemplary 
 man, did not condemn decent and moral plays, and he 
 expressed a curiosity to hear my piece ; hut I was then 
 too fatigued to begin the reading, and it was put off 
 till next day. I was shown to a delightful bed, where 
 I forgot all my chagrins, and slept till ten o'clock the 
 next morning. 
 
 As soon as I was awake, an excellent cup of choco- 
 late was brought me. As the weather was fine, I 
 walked out till midday, the hour of dinner, when we 
 saw each other again with pleasure. Two other ab- 
 bes of his parish dined with us, and after dinner I be- 
 gan the reading of my piece. My host demanded my 
 permission to admit his governante and his régisseur. 
 For my part, I could have wished the whole village 
 present. The piece was very much relished. The 
 three abbés, who were by no means blockheads, dis- 
 tinguished the most interesting and remarkable pas- 
 sages ; and the villagers proved by their applause that 
 my work was suited to every capacity, and equally 
 capable of pleasing the learned and the ignorant. 
 
 I received the compliments of my host, who thanked 
 me for my complaisance ; the two other abbés followed 
 his example, and each of them gave me an invitation 
 to dinner ; but I was unwilling to occasion any incon- 
 venience to my landlord, and I was, besides, anxious 
 to continue my route. The clergyman asked me in 
 what manner I intended to travel. I told him I was 
 very well disposed to set out on foot ; but this worthy
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 177 
 
 man would not hear of such a thing. He gave me his 
 horse and his servant, and he gave the servant orders 
 to pay for my dinner. I took my leave next day, 
 overcome with the favors and acts of kindness I had 
 received. 
 
 On arriving at Desenzano, ,1 dined in the same inn 
 on the Lake di Garda, where I had twice before slept, 
 and I arrived at Verona at nightfall. 
 
 Verona is one of the finest cities of Italy. It de- 
 serves, without doubt, that I should speak of its beau- 
 ties, its ornaments, its academies, aud the talents which 
 it has produced and fostered in every age ; but this 
 digression would lead me too far; and I shall merely 
 confine myself to the mention of the monument which 
 has some relation, perhaps, to the subject of my me- 
 moirs. At Verona there is an amphitheatre, the work 
 of the Romans. It is not known whether it belongs 
 to the period of Trajan or Domitian ; but it is in such 
 excellent preservation, that it may be used at present 
 as well as in the time when it was constructed. This 
 vast edifice, called in Italy 1' Arena di Verona, is of an 
 oval form ; its greatest interior diameter is two hundred 
 and twenty-five Paris feet, and the smallest one hun- 
 dred and thirty-three. Forty-five rows of marble steps 
 surround it, which are capable of containing twenty 
 thousand persons seated at their ease. In the central 
 space spectacles of all kinds are given : courses, jousts, 
 bull-fights ; and in summer, plays are even represented 
 with no other light than that of the natural day. For 
 this purpose, in the middle of the space, there is erected, 
 on very strong supports, a theatre in boards, which is 
 taken down every winter and refitted again in the fine 
 season; and the best companies of Italy occasionally 
 resort here to display their talents. There are no boxes
 
 178 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 for the spectators ; a space inclosed off with boards 
 forms a vast pit with chairs. The lower orders are 
 allowed, for a trilling expense, to range themselves 
 along the steps in front of the theatre ; and notwith- 
 standing the small expense of admission, there is not 
 a theatre in Italy that yields so much as the Arena. 
 
 On leaving my inn the day after my arrival, I ob- 
 served playbills, in which I read that "Harlequin 
 Mute through Fear " was to be acted that day. I went 
 in the afternoon, and placed myself in the enclosure, in 
 the middle of the Arena, where there was a very 
 numerous assembly. The curtain was drawn ; an 
 apology was to be delivered for the change of the piece, 
 which was not the " Mute through Fear," as had been 
 promised, but auother, the name of which I do not now 
 remember. But what an agreeable surprise for me ! 
 The actor who came forward to address the public was 
 no other than my dear friend Casali, the proposer and 
 proprietor of my Belisarius. 
 
 I quitted my place to get upon the stage. As the 
 place was not very extensive, my intention was imme- 
 diately opposed. I asked for Casali ; he came forward, 
 and appeared quite enchanted to see me. He made 
 way for me, and introduced me to the director, the 
 principal actress, the second and third, and the whole 
 company. All were eager to speak to me. Casali 
 took me apart ; we went behind a curtain ; the deco- 
 ration was changed, and I remained exposed to the 
 audience ; I escaped with all possible expedition from 
 the hisses with which I was assailed. This was rather 
 an unlucky prelude for an author; but the Veronese 
 have sufficiently indemnified me in the sequel for this 
 little disagreeable incident. The company was the one 
 which Casali mentioned to me at Milan ; it belonged to
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 179 
 
 the Grimani theatre of St. Samuel, in Venice, where 
 it played every autumn and winter, passing the spring 
 and summer on the mainland. 
 
 The company was under the direction of M. Imer, a 
 very polite and respectable Genoese, who invited me to 
 dine with him next day, which was a holiday with 
 them. I accepted his invitation, and promised in 
 return to read him my Belisarius. We were all in 
 unison, and satisfied with one anothe'r. Next day I 
 repaired accordingly to the directors, where I found all 
 the company assembled. Imer wished to treat his 
 companions with the novelty which Casali had been 
 mentioning to them. The dinner was splendid, and 
 the gayety of the comedians quite charming. They 
 made couplets, and sang bacchanalian songs. They 
 anticipated every wish of mine ; they were so many 
 crimps anxious to enlist me. 
 
 When dinner was over, we retired to the director's 
 room, where I read my piece. It was listened to with 
 attention, and at the conclusion the applause was gen- 
 eral and complete. Imer took me by the hand, and 
 with a magisterial tone pronounced, " Bravo ! " I was 
 complimented by every one ; Casali wept for joy. 
 One of the actors asked me very politely if his com- 
 rades were to have the good fortune of being the first 
 to represent my piece. Casali rose, and in a decided 
 tone, answered: "Yes, sir, M. Goldoni did me the 
 honor to labor for me " ; and, laying hold of the piece 
 which was lying on the table, "I shall," said he, 
 4 'with the good pleasure of the author, proceed to copy 
 it out myself." Without waiting the author's answer 
 he carried it off instantly. 
 
 Imer took me apart, and requested me to accept of 
 a single apartment in the same house beside his own ;
 
 180 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 he invited me also to his tahle all the time that his 
 company should remain at Verona. In my circum- 
 stances I could refuse nothing. Without having had 
 the advantage of a regular education, Imer possessed 
 intellect and information : he was passionately fond of 
 comedy : he was naturally eloquent, and could have 
 supported with great ease the part of an extempore 
 lover according to the Italian practice, had his height 
 and figure corresponded with his talents. Being short, 
 squat, with a short neck or rather with none, small 
 eyes, and a little flat nose, he appeared ridiculous iu 
 serious characters, and overcharged characters or cari- 
 catures were not in fashion. He possessed a good 
 voice : he contrived the introduction into comedy of 
 musical interludes, which had so long been inseparable 
 from the grand opera, and had at last been suppressed 
 to make room for ballets. 
 
 The comic opera had its origin at Naples and Rome, 
 but it was unknown in Lombardy and the Venetian 
 dominions, so that the project of Imer succeeded, and 
 the novelty was productive of much pleasure, and 
 highly profitable to the comedians. He had two ac- 
 tresses in this company for interludes ; the one a very 
 pretty and a very able widow of the name of Zanetta 
 Casanova, who played the part of young lovers in 
 comedy : and the other a woman possessed of a charm- 
 ing voice, but who had no talents for acting. This 
 M'as Madame Agnese Amurat, the same singer whom 
 I mentioned as employed by me in my serenade at 
 Venice. Neither of these two women knew a single 
 note of music, and Imer was precisely in the same 
 situation ; but they were all three possessed of taste, 
 a correct ear. and a perfect execution; and the public 
 were satisfied with them.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXL 181 
 
 The first interlude they began with was the Can- 
 tatrice, a small piece composed by me at Feltre for a 
 private theatre: and I had thus contributed to the 
 advantage of the Venice company without knowing it 
 and without being known. No wonder then that I 
 stood high in the opinion of the director, to whom I 
 was announced by Casali as the author of the Can- 
 tatrice ; and this was the true cause of the kindness 
 with which I was treated by him ; for, in general, we 
 give nothing without an equivalent, and my Belisa- 
 rius would have been insufficient, had I not given a 
 proof of my qualifications for dramatic poetry. 
 
 liner, win» possessed judgment and penetration, fore- 
 saw that my Belisarius would everywhere be suc- 
 cessful. This he was not displeased at ; but he was 
 at the same time desirous that his person and his new 
 employment should participate in the success which 
 he anticipated. He requested me, therefore, to com- 
 pose an interlude for three voices with all possible de- 
 spatch, that there might be time to set it to music. I 
 composed an interlude in three acts, which I called 
 La Pupilla. I took the plot of this piece from the 
 private life of the director; I perceived that he had a 
 decided inclination for the widow of his company: I 
 saw also that he was jealous of her, and I brought 
 him accordingly into the piece. liner was not long in 
 perceiving it, but the interlude appeared to him so 
 well written, and the attack so respectful and delicate, 
 that he easily pardoned me this piece of pleasantry. 
 He overpowered me with thanks and applause, and 
 instantly despatched my work to Venice to the musi- 
 cian whom he had already engaged. Meanwhile Be- 
 lisarius had been copied, and the parts distributed. 
 A few days afterwards the first rehearsal took place
 
 182 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 with the parts in their hands; and the piece produced 
 a still greater impression at the second reading than at 
 the first 
 
 Casali, more and more satisfied with me, after as- 
 suring me that the director and proprietor of the 
 theatre would take care to recompense me, requested 
 me to do him the favor to receive, as a particular mark 
 of his gratitude, a present of six sequins. 
 
 I remained tranquilly at Verona till the end of Sep- 
 tember. At last I set out with liner for Venice in a 
 postchaise, and we arrived there at eight o'clock in 
 the evening of the same day. Imer conducted me 
 into his house, showed me the room which he destined 
 for me, introduced me to his wife and his daughters, 
 and as I had a strong desire to see my maternal aunt, 
 I requested him to dispense with my supping with his 
 family. I was very desirous of obtaining information 
 
 respecting Madame St. and her daughter, and 
 
 learning whether they still entertained any pretensions 
 to me. My aunt assured me that I might keep my- 
 self perfectly tranquil : that these high-minded ladies, 
 on hearing that I had entered into an engagement 
 with comedians, had set me down as unworthy to 
 approach them, and entertained no other sentiments 
 for me hut those of contempt and indignation. "So 
 much the better," said I, — " so much the better ; this 
 is still another advantage which I shall owe to my 
 talents. With the comedians I am like an artist in 
 his workshop. They are worthy people, much more 
 estimable than the slaves of pride and ambition. 7 ' I 
 next spoke of my family affairs. My mother, who 
 was still at Modena, was in good health, and my debts 
 were almost wholly paid off. I supped with my aunt 
 and mv relations. After taking leave of them to
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 183 
 
 return to my host, I chose the longest road, and went 
 round by the bridge of the Rialto and the square of 
 St. Mark; and I enjoyed the charming spectacle of a 
 city still more wonderful by night than by day. 
 
 I had not yet seen Paris, but I had returned from 
 several towns where at night everything was total 
 darkness. It appeared to me that the lamps of Venice 
 formed a decoration both useful and agreeable, and the 
 more deserving of praise, as the burden does not fall 
 on individuals, but is defrayed by an additional draw- 
 ing of the lottery every year. Besides this general 
 illumination, there is that of the shops, which at all 
 seasons remain open till ten o'clock in the evening, 
 and a great number are not shut till midnight, and 
 several are never shut at all. 
 
 Everything eatable is to be found displayed at mid- 
 night in Venice, the same as in the middle of the day : 
 all the taverns are open, and suppers are in prepara- 
 tion in every inn and hotel ; for company dinners and 
 suppers are not common in Venice, but parties of 
 pleasure and picnics bring together individuals with 
 greater liberty and gayety. In summer the square of 
 St. Mark and its environs are frequented by night as 
 much as by day. The coffee-houses are full of fash- 
 ionable company, males and females of every descrip- 
 tion. In every square, street, and canal singing is to 
 be heard. The shopkeepers sing while they sell their 
 wares ; the workmen sing on quitting their labors ; the 
 gondoliers sing while waiting for their masters. The 
 essential character of the people is gayety. and the 
 character of the Venetian language is pleasantry. 
 
 Delighted to see my country again, which always 
 appeared to me more and more extraordinary and 
 amusing, I returned to my new lodging, where I found
 
 184 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Imer waiting for me, who informed, me of his inten- 
 tion of calling on M. Grimani, the proprietor of the 
 theatre, next day, and of taking me with him to he 
 introduced to his excellency, if I had no other engage- 
 ments. As I was unengaged, I accepted his proposi- 
 tion, and we accordingly went together. M. Grimani 
 was the most polite man in the world ; and he had 
 nothing of that inconvenient haughtiness which is as 
 prejudicial to the great as it is humiliating to inferiors. 
 Illustrious by birth, and estimable from his talents, he 
 was desirous only of being beloved, and his amiable 
 qualities captivated every heart. 
 
 He received me with great kindness, and engaged 
 me to labor for the company which he maintained ; 
 and by way of farther encouragement, he gave me 
 hopes, that as he was also proprietor of the theatre of 
 St. John Chrysostom, and undertaker of the grand 
 opera, he would endeavor to employ me and attach me 
 to that theatre. Quite pleased with his excellency, and 
 the kind offices which Imer had rendered me with him, 
 I gave up every thought but that of deserving the 
 public suffrage. The first representation of Belisarius 
 was fixed for St. Catharine, a period when the vacations 
 of the courts are at an end, and when the company re- 
 turn from the country. In the mean time we were occu- 
 pied with rehearsals, sometimes of my tragi -comedy, 
 and at other times of my interlude ; and as my occupa- 
 tions were not very considerable. I prepared something 
 new for the carnival. I undertook the composition 
 of a tragedy called Rosimonda, and another interlude 
 called La Birba. I derived the plot of the large piece 
 from La Rosimonda del Mute, a paltry romance of 
 the last century, and the smaller one was a picture 
 of the Jugglers of the Square of St. Mark, whose Ian-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 185 
 
 guage, humor, tricks, and whole behavior I had studied 
 with great care. The comic traits that I made use of 
 in my interludes were so much grain that I sowed in 
 my field to ripen one day into an agreeable and profita- 
 ble harvest. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 At length, on the 24th November, 1734, my Beli- 
 sarius appeared on the stage for the first time. It was 
 my début, and it could not have been more brilliant 
 or satisfactory for me. My piece was listened to with 
 a silence altogether extraordinary and unusual in the 
 Italian theatres. The public, accustomed to noise, gave 
 vent to it between the acts ; and by expressions of joy, 
 clapping of hands, and reciprocal signs between the pit 
 and boxes, the author and actors received the most dis- 
 tinguished marks of applause. All these displays of 
 an unusual degree of satisfaction redoubled at the end 
 of the piece to such a degree that the actors were quite 
 affected. Some wept while others laughed, and these 
 different effects flowed from the same feeling of joy. 
 The author of the piece is not called for in Italy for the 
 purpose of being seen and applauded on the stage. 
 But when the principal actor presented himself to an- 
 nounce the play for the succeeding evening, all the 
 spectators at once cried, " Questa, questa, questa," that 
 is to say, " The same, the same" ; and the curtain was 
 dropped. The same piece was accordingly given next 
 day. and it was continued to be given every day till the 
 14th of December, when the autumn performances were 
 closed. This was a very fortunate commencement for 
 me, for the piece was by no means m valuable as it had 
 been estimated, and I hold it myself in so little consid-
 
 186 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 eration that it shall never appear in the collection of 
 my works. 
 
 Elegant literature is as well understood and as much 
 cultivated at Venice as in any other place ; but the 
 connoisseurs could not avoid applauding a work, the 
 imperfections of which were well known to them. 
 Seeing the superiority of my piece over the farces, and 
 other ordinary productions of the comedians, they were 
 induced to augur from this first attempt a succession of 
 other pieces capable of exciting emulation and paving 
 the way for a reform of the Italian theatre. The 
 principal defect of my piece was the appearance of 
 Belisarius with his eyes put out and bleeding ; with 
 this exception, the play, which I called a tragi-com- 
 edy, was not destitute of merit ; and it interested the 
 spectator in a suitable and natural manner. My heroes 
 were men and not demigods, their passions had the 
 degree of elevation suitable to their rank, but they 
 appeared with the properties of human nature with 
 which we are acquainted, and their virtues and vices 
 were not carried to an imaginary excess. My style 
 was not elegant, and my versification has never been 
 any way sublime ; but this was precisely what was 
 requisite to bring back to reason a public accustomed 
 to hyperboles, antitheses, and everything ridiculously 
 gigantic and romantic. 
 
 At the sixth representation of Belisarius, Imer 
 thought he might add La Pupilla, and this little piece 
 was very well received by the public ; but while Imer 
 supposed the interlude supported the tragi-comedy, it 
 was, on the contrary, the tragi-comedy which supported 
 the interlude. At all events I was a great gainer ; for 
 the public seeing me come forward at the same time in 
 the two walks and in a manner altogether new, I was
 
 CA.RLO GOLDONI. 187 
 
 honored with the general esteem of my countrymen, 
 and I received the most flattering and distinguished 
 encouragement from them. 
 
 On this occasion I made an acquaintance with his 
 excellency Nicolas Balbi, a Venetian patrician and 
 senator, whose warm and constant protection has 
 always been highly honorable to me, and whose opin- 
 ions, credit, and adherence have alw«ys been of the 
 greatest utility to me. On the 17th January my 
 Rosiinonda was represented for the first time. It was 
 not damned ; but after Belisarius I could hardly 
 flatter myself with an equally brilliant success : it 
 had four very tolerable representations. On the fifth, 
 Imer supported it with a new interlude. La Birba 
 gave high pleasure ; this very comic and very gay trifle 
 maintained Rosimonda during four other represen- 
 tations ; but at last we were obliged to return to Bel- 
 isarius. This piece had the same success on being 
 resumed as at first, and Belisarius and La Birba 
 were played together till Shrove-Tuesday, and finished 
 the carnival ; and with them we terminated the theat- 
 rical year. 
 
 The theatres are not opened at Venice till the begin- 
 ning of October; but during the fifteen days of the 
 fair of the Ascension, there is a grand opera, and 
 sometimes two, which have sometimes as many as 
 twenty representations. Grimani, the proprietor of 
 the theatre of St. Samuel, had an opera in that season 
 represented on his account; and he attached me to that 
 spectacle, as he had promised. The drama which they 
 were to give this year w T as not new ; they had chosen 
 La Griselda, an opera of Apostolo Zeno and Pari- 
 ati, who worked in conjunction before the departure of 
 Zeno for Vienna, in the emperor's service, and the
 
 188 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 composer who was to set it to music was the Abbe" 
 Vivaldi, called il prête rosso (the red priest), on account 
 of his hair. He was much better known by this nick- 
 name than by his real name. 
 
 This ecclesiastic, who was an excellent performer on 
 the violin and an indifferent composer, had trained and 
 instructed in singing Miss Giraud, a young singer, born 
 at Venice, but the daughter of a French hairdresser. 
 She was not pretty, but graceful ; her shape was ele- 
 gant, her eyes and hair were beautiful, and her mouth 
 charming ; she had very little voice, but a great deal of 
 action. She was to represent the character of Griselda. 
 
 M. Grimani sent me to the musicians to make the 
 necessary changes in the opera, both for the sake of 
 shortening it, and changing the position and character 
 of the airs to suit the actors and the composer. I called 
 therefore on the Abbé Vivaldi, and announced myself 
 as having come from his excellency Grimani. I found 
 him surrounded with music, and with the breviary in 
 his hand. He rose, and made the sign of the cross, 
 put his breviary aside, and then, after the usual com- 
 pliments, u What motive, sir," said he, " procures me 
 the pleasure of seeing you ? " "His excelleucy Gri- 
 mani has employed me to make such changes as you 
 may deem necessary in the opera of next fair : I there- 
 fore wish to be informed, sir, what are your intentions." 
 " So, so, you are employed to make the changes in the 
 opera of Griselda ; M. Lalli is not now then attached 
 to the theatre of M. Grimani?" " M. Lalli, who is 
 very old, will always enjoy the profits, the epistles 
 dedicatory, and the sale of books, which I do not care 
 for, — I shall have the pleasure of being employed in 
 an exercise highly amusing for me, aud I shall have 
 the honor of commencing under the orders of M. Vi-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 189 
 
 valdi." (The abbé resumed his breviary, made a 
 second sign of the cross, and returned no answer.) 
 " Sir," said I, " I should be sorry to withdraw you 
 from your religious occupation ; I will wait upon you 
 another time." "I know very well, my dear sir, that 
 you have talents for poetry. I have seen your Beli- 
 sarius, which gave me a great deal of pleasure ; but 
 this is a very different affair ; it is possible to make a 
 tragedy and an epic poem if you will, and yet not be 
 able to write a single musical quatrain." " Be so good 
 as allow me to look at your drama." " yes, with 
 all my heart ; where is Griselda gone to ? It was here 
 — Deus in adjutorium meum intende — Domine — 
 Domine — Domine — it was here this very instant — 
 Domine ad adjuvandum — Ah, here it is. See, sir, 
 this scene between Gualtiere and Griselda is very in- 
 teresting and touching. The author has tacked a 
 pathetic air to it, but Miss Giraud is not fond of lan- 
 guishing songs ; she wishes something expressive and 
 full of agitation, an expression of the passions by 
 different means, by words interrupted, for example, by 
 sighs, with action and motion ; I don't know whether 
 you understand me?" " Yes, sir, I understand you 
 perfectly well ; besides, I have had the honor of hear- 
 ing Miss Giraud, and I know that her voice is not very 
 powerful." u What, sir, do you mean to insult my 
 scholar ? She is good at everything, she can sing any- 
 thing." '• Yes, sir, you are right; give me the book, 
 and allow me to proceed." u Xo, sir, I cannot part 
 with it, I am in want of it, and am pressed for time." 
 u Very well, sir, if you are pressed lend it to me a mo- 
 ment, and I will instantly satisfy you." " Instantly V 1 
 '• Yes, sir, instantly." 
 The abbé laughed at my attempt, and gave me the
 
 190 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 drama, and paper and ink, resumed his breviary, and 
 walked about, reciting his psalms and hymns. I read 
 over the scene with which I was already acquainted ; 
 I recapitulated all that the musician desired, and, in 
 less than a quarter of an hour I wrote down an air of 
 eight verses, divided into two parts. I then called my 
 ecclesiastic, and showed him my work. Vivaldi read 
 it, his countenance brightened up, he read it again, 
 threw d»twn his prayer-book, and called Miss Giraud. 
 When she entered, he exclaimed " Ah, here is a won- 
 derful man, here is an excellent poet : read this air ; 
 this gentleman composed it here without stirring from 
 the spot in less than a quarter of an hour." Then 
 turning towards me, he said, " I beg your pardon, 
 sir " ; and he embraced me, and protested he would 
 never have any other poet than myself. He confided 
 the drama to me, with orders to make some other 
 changes ; in all of which he was satisfied with me, and 
 the opera succeeded admirably. I was now initiated 
 in the opera, in comedy, and in the interludes, which 
 were the forerunners of the Italian comic operas. 
 
 The company of Grimani had gone to Padua, to 
 perform there during the spring season, and I was ex- 
 pected there with impatience to give my pieces. AVhen 
 I got clear of the opera of Venice, I repaired to Padua. 
 My novelties made their appearance at the theatre of 
 that place, and the applauses of my brethren the doc- 
 tors were equal to those of my countrymen. I found 
 that great changes had taken place in the company ; 
 the waiting-maid had gone to Dresden, having been 
 engaged by that court, and the harlequin had been dis- 
 charged ; and M. Campagnani, a Milanese, the delight 
 of the amateurs of his country, but insupportable when 
 acting with professional actors, had been adopted in
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 191 
 
 his place. But the greatest loss experienced by the 
 company was that of the Widow Casanova, who, not- 
 withstanding her connection with the director, had 
 accepted of an engagement in the service of the King 
 of Poland. She was succeeded as a singer by Madame 
 Passalacqua, who at the same time performed the 
 characters of waiting-maids; and for the parts of 
 Livers, they had made an acquisition pf a Madame 
 Ferramonti, a charming actress, who was young, beau- 
 tiful, very amiable, and very intelligent, full of talents 
 and interesting qualities. 
 
 I was not long in discerning her merit, and I at- 
 tached myself in a particular manner to her; I became 
 the friend of her husband, who was not employed in 
 the company ; and I formed the project of making an 
 excellent actress of this young woman. The other 
 women did not fail to become jealous of her. I ex- 
 perienced several disagreeable occurrences in conse- 
 quence ; and I should have suffered still more if she 
 had not been carried off by death the same year. 
 
 My comedians had given at Padua the number of 
 representations agreed upon, and they were preparing 
 t<> visit Udine in Venetian Friuli. 
 
 liner proposed that I should accompany him, and I 
 consented to follow the company ; but I did not travel 
 with the director. I made my excuse to him, and set 
 out in an excellent carriage with Madame Ferramonti 
 and the good man her husband. 
 
 My works were very much applauded at Udine. 
 That town was prepossessed in my favor ; and the 
 author of the Easter poetry was, in their opinion, a 
 very excellent dramatic poet. 
 
 On returning to Venice, the first thing I did was to 
 embrace my mother ; we had a long conversation to-
 
 192 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 gether ; my Venetian property was disencumbered ; 
 my Modena revenue increased ; my brother had re- 
 entered the army, and my mother was desirous that I 
 should again resume my profession of advocate. I 
 reasoned with her on the subject, and declared that as 
 I had once quitted it, and made my appearance in my 
 country in a character altogether different, I could no 
 longer flatter myself with the confidence which I did 
 not merit ; while the career which I had entered upon 
 was equally honorable, and might in time turn out 
 lucrative. 
 
 My mother, with tears in her eyes, said that she 
 durst not oppose my wish, that she reproached herself 
 with having seduced me from the Criminal Chancery, 
 and that, having confidence in my reason, honor, and 
 activity, she left me at full liberty to choose my own 
 profession. I thanked her and embraced her a second 
 time ; and from one thing to another I came to the 
 
 article of Madame St. and her daughter, quite 
 
 satisfied that the contempt expressed by these ladies 
 for the employment chosen by me had relieved me from 
 all fear and embarrassment. 
 
 " By no means," said my mother, "you are quite 
 
 mistaken ; Madame St. and her daughter have 
 
 waited on me ; they overpowered me with their polite- 
 ness, and they spoke to me of you as an estimable and 
 wonderful young man. Your distinguished success has 
 rendered you in their eyes worthy of their considera- 
 tion, and they still reckon on you." 
 
 " No," said I, with a tone of indignation; "no, my 
 mother, I will never connect myself with a family by 
 wh< »m I was deceived, ruined, and at last treated with 
 disdain." 
 
 " Do not alarm yourself," replied my mother ; " they
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 193 
 
 are not richer than they were ; I shall return their 
 visit, and endeavor to reason with them, and I under- 
 take to procure your release. Let us talk of something 
 else," continued she; " tell me what you have been 
 doing since our separation." 
 
 I instantly satisfied her, and communicated several 
 of my adventures, though I concealed also a great 
 number. I made her successively weep, laugh, and 
 tremble : we dined with our relations ; my mother 
 was anxious to tell the company what I had imparted 
 to her ; but she only confused matters and excited their 
 curiosity, and I was myself obliged to tell everything 
 over again; when, exhilarated by the gayety of the 
 repast, I ventured to mention a number of particulars 
 which were quite new to my mother. " Ah, you 
 knave!" she exclaimed from time to time, a you did 
 not tell me this, or that, or that other." I passed my 
 time very agreeably, and made old uncles and aunts 
 laugh at my expense, who never laughed before in their 
 lives. My conversation was perhaps in those days more 
 engaging than my writings. 
 
 Towards the end of September my company of 
 comedians returned to the capital ; we rehearsed our 
 opening piece, and on the 4th of October it appeared 
 on the stage. The novelty produced surprise ; the lit- 
 erary assembly was relished ; the comedy in one act 
 failed on account of the harlequin, who was not an 
 agreeable actor ; the comic opera was well received, 
 and became a standing piece at the theatre. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The actors of St. Samuel were to pass the spring the 
 next year at Genoa, and the summer at Florence ; and
 
 194 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 as there were six new actors in the company. Irner 
 deemed my presence necessary, and proposed that I 
 should accompany him. I had thus an excellent op- 
 portunity of seeing two of the most beautiful cities of 
 Italy, and all my expenses were to be defrayed. I 
 spoke to my mother, who always approved of my rea- 
 sons, and I set out for Genoa with the director. 
 
 After passing through the very rich and delightful 
 village of San Pietro d' Arena, we discovered Genoa in 
 the direction of the sea. What a charming and sur- 
 prising spectacle ! It is a semicircular amphitheatre, 
 which on the one hand forms the vast basin of the port, 
 and gradually rises on the other along the declivity of the 
 mountain with immense buildings, which at a distance 
 seem placed above one another, and are terminated by 
 terraces, balustrades, or gardens, which serve for roofs 
 to the different habitations. In front of these, rows of 
 palaces, hotels, and houses of citizens, some coated 
 with marble, and others ornamented with painting, the 
 two moles winch form the mouth of the port, are to be 
 seen ; a work worthy of the Romans, as the Genoese, 
 notwithstanding the violence and depth of the sea, 
 have overcome nature, which seemed to oppose their 
 establishment. 
 
 We alighted near the lighthouse, and entered by 
 the gate of St. Thomas. We saw the immense Doria 
 palace, where three sovereigns were lodged at the 
 same time, and we then went straight to the inn of St. 
 Martha till we got the lodgings which were to be pro- 
 cured for us. The lottery was drawing that day, and 
 I had a great desire to see that ceremony. The lot- 
 tery, called in Italy li II lotto di Genova,'" and at Paris 
 " La loterie royale de France," was not then estab- 
 lished at Venice. There were, however, persons who
 
 CARLO GOLDONt 195 
 
 disposed of tickets underhand for the lottery of Genoa, 
 and I had one of these tickets in my pocket, which I 
 brought from home with me. The lottery was in- 
 vented at Genoa, and the first idea of it was suggested 
 by chance. The Genoese draw twice every year, by 
 lot, the names of five senators to supply the places of 
 those who go out of office. The names of all those 
 who are in the urn, and who may be drawn, are known 
 at Genoa. Individuals of the town began by betting 
 among themselves : one said, u I bet that such a one 
 will come out at next drawing " ; another said, u I bet 
 that a different person will be drawn ' 7 ; and the wager 
 was equal. Some time afterwards, banks for and 
 against were opened by artful persons, who gave an 
 advantage to those who put into them. This came to 
 the ears of government, and the small banks were pro- 
 hibited : but the farmers who offered for them were 
 listened to. In this manner the lottery was established 
 for two drawings, and some time afterwards the number 
 was augmented. The lottery is now almost universal, 
 and I shall not presume to say whether it is deserving 
 of praise or blame : I speak of everything without de- 
 ciding anything ; and endeavoring to view things in as 
 favorable light as possible, it appears to me that the 
 lottery of Genoa furnishes a good revenue for the gov- 
 ernment, an occupation for the idle, and a hope for the 
 wretched and unfortunate. For my part I was quite 
 delighted with the lottery on this occasion ; for I gained 
 a prize of a hundred pistoles, with which I was very 
 well satisfied. 
 
 But at Genoa a piece of good fortune of still greater 
 value happened to me, which shed its blissful influence 
 over all the rest of my life : for I there married a pru- 
 dent, kind, and charming young woman, who indem-
 
 196 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 nified me for all the tricks played me by other wo- 
 men, and reconciled me to the fair sex. Yes, my dear 
 reader, I became a husband, and I will tell you how. 
 The director and myself -were lodged in a house be- 
 longing to the theatre. I had observed, opposite the 
 windows of my room, a young woman who appeared 
 to me rather pretty, and with whom I wished 'to form 
 an acquaintance. One day, when she was alone at her 
 window, I saluted her somewhat tenderly ; she bowed 
 and instantly withdrew, and did not make her appear- 
 ance again. This excited my curiosity, and irritated 
 my self-love. I endeavored to learn who lived oppo- 
 site my apartments. The house belonged to M. Conio, 
 a notary of the College of Genoa, and one of the four 
 notaries deputed to the Bank of St. George ; a respect- 
 able man, possessed of property, but who, having a 
 very numerous family, was not in .such easy circum- 
 stances as he ought to have been. 
 
 So far good : I was desirous of forming an acquaint- 
 ance with M. Conio ; I knew that Imer had paper of 
 that bank derived from the rents of boxes which he 
 neg< »tiated by means of exchange brokers. I requested 
 him to confide one of the bank-bills to my care, which 
 he very willingly did ; and I went to the Bank of St. 
 George to present this bill to M. Conio, and to avail 
 myself of that opportunity to discover, his character. I 
 found the notary surrounded with people, and I waited 
 till they were gone ; I then went up to him, and re- 
 quested him to have the goodness to pay the value of 
 my note. This worthy man received me with great 
 politeness ; but he told me that I had made a mistake, 
 that the bills were not payable at the bank, but that 
 the first exchange broker or merchant would have 
 given me cash for them instantly. I begged to be ex-
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 197 
 
 cused ; I told him that I was a stranger, and his 
 neighbor. I had a great deal to say to him, but the 
 hoar was advanced, he requested permission to shut up 
 his office, and told me that we should converse to- 
 gether on our way home. 
 
 We went out together, and he proposed taking a cup 
 of coffee with me till dinner-time ; I accepted the pro- 
 posal, for in Italy we take ten cups of coffee a day. 
 We entered a lemonade shop, and as M. Conio had 
 seen me with the comedians, he asked me what char- 
 acters I played. " Sir," said I, " your question does 
 not offend me, for any other person would have made 
 the same mistake. 7 ' I told him who I was, and what 
 my employment was ; he apologized for his mistake : 
 lie was fond of plays, and frequented the theatre where 
 he had seen my pieces, and he was delighted as much 
 to have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with 
 me, as I was with him. This brought us together; 
 he visited me, and I visited him in turn : I had oppor- 
 tunities of seeing Miss Conio, who appeared every day 
 more agreeable and deserving in my eyes. In a 
 month's time I demanded from M. Conio his daughter 
 in marriage. 
 
 He was in no way surprised, having perceived my, 
 inclinations, and he had no apprehension of a refusal 
 on the part of the young woman ; but, like a wise and 
 prudent man, he requested a little time, and wrote to 
 the Genoese consul at Venice for information respect- 
 ing my character. I could not object to this delay, 
 and I wrote off at the same time, imparting my pro- 
 ject to my mother, and describing my future wife to 
 her; and I requested her to send me instantly all 
 the certificates which are necessary on similar occa- 
 sions.
 
 198 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 In a month's time I received my mother's consent 
 and the requisite papers : and a few days afterwards 
 M. Conio also received the most nattering accounts 
 < if me. Our marriage was fixed for the month of July, 
 the portion agreed on. and the contract signed. 
 
 liner knew nothing of all this : I had grounds for 
 apprehending that he would endeavor to frustrate my 
 project. He was in reality very much chagrined at it. 
 as he was obliged to pass the summer at Florence, and 
 I could not accompany him. I promised, however, 
 that I would not quit the company : that I should la- 
 bor for tlie season at Venice, and retain in good time, 
 and I kept my word. I was now the most contented 
 and happy man in the world : but was it possible for 
 me to experience happiness without some misfortune 
 afterwards ? I was seized with a fever on my mar- 
 riage-night, and I experienced a second attack of the 
 small-pox, which I had had at Rimini in my youth. 
 Fortunately for me I was riot dangerously ill, and my 
 features were not impaired. My poor wife shed many 
 a tear over my pillow : .-he was then, and has always 
 since been, my chief consolation. 
 
 At length my wife and myself set out for Venice in 
 the beginning of September. heavens ! What 
 tears were shed ! What a cruel separation for my 
 wife : she quitted all at once, father, mother, brothers, 
 sisters, uncles, aunts — but she went with her hus- 
 band. On arriving at Venice with my wife, I intro- 
 duced lier to my mother and aunt. My mother was 
 enchanted with the mildness of her daughter-in-law. 
 and my aunt, who was not in easy circumstances, made 
 a friend and confidante of lier niece. It was a charming 
 family: all was peace and harmony: and I was the 
 happiest man in the world. My comedians, who had
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 190 
 
 renounced all hopes of me, were glad to see me again, 
 more especially as I brought them a new piece. •• Ri- 
 naldo di Montalbano," a tragi-eoinedy, in five acts and 
 in v. 
 
 This subject was derived from the stock of the Italian 
 theatre. I purified it from the gross faults which 
 rendered it insufferable, and brought it as near as 
 Bible to the style of the ancient chivalry, ajid the decency 
 and decorum requisite in a piece where Charlemagne 
 made his appearance. The public, accustomed : 
 Rinaldo, Paladin of France, appear in the council of war 
 wrapped up in a torn cloak, and harlequin defend his 
 master's castle and put to fiight the emperors' soldiers 
 with kettles and broken pots, were pleased * 
 the calumniated hero maintain his cause with dignity, 
 and were not discontented with the suppression of the 
 misplaced buffoonery. 
 
 9 veral changes took place in the company during 
 Lent, which brought it as near the point of perfection 
 as possible. 
 
 We changed La Bastona, the mother, for La Bastona, 
 the daughter, an excellent actress, full of intelligence, 
 noble in serious parts, and very agreeable in comic 
 Vitalba, the principal actor, was succeeded by Simo- 
 netti, who was not so brilliant as his predecessor, but 
 more décorons, intelligent, and docile. We made an 
 acquisition of Golinetti for a pantaloon, who was but 
 indifferent with his mask, but admirable in the character 
 of young Venetians without one: and we gained also 
 Lonibardi, who both in figure and talents was unrivalled 
 in the part of the doctor. 
 
 What rendered the company perfect was the acquisi- 
 tion of Sacehi, the famous harlequin, whose wife was 
 tolerable in the part of secondary lovers, and whose
 
 200 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sister, though a little extravagant in her action, per- 
 formed very well in the character of waiting-maid. 
 
 " I am now," said I to myself, " perfectly at my ease, 
 and I can give loose to my imagination. Hitherto I 
 have labored on old subjects, but now I must create 
 and invent for myself. I have the advantage of very 
 promising actors ; but in order to employ them usefully 
 I must begin with studying them. Every person has 
 his peculiar character from nature ; if the author gives 
 him a part to represent in unison with his own, he may 
 lay his account with success. Well then," continued 
 I, " this is perhaps the happy moment to set on foot 
 the reform which I have so long meditated. Yes, I 
 must treat subjects of character : this is the source of 
 good comedy ; with this the great Molière began his 
 career, and he carried it to a degree of perfection which 
 the ancients merely indicated to us, and which the 
 moderns have never seen equalled." 
 
 Was I wrong in encouraging myself in this manner ? 
 No : for my inclinations were fixed on comedy, and 
 good comedy was the proper aim for me. I should 
 have been wrong had I entertained the ambition of 
 equalling the masters of the art ; but I merely aspired 
 to reform the abuses of the theatre of my country, and 
 this required no great extent of learning to accomplish. 
 Agreeably with this mode of reasoning, which seemed 
 to me perfectly just, I cast my eyes round the company 
 for the actor best adapted to sustain a new character 
 to advantage. I fixed on Golinetti the pantaloon, not 
 for the purpose of employing him in a mask which 
 conceals the physiognomy and prevents a sensible actor 
 from displaying the passion which he feels in his coun- 
 tenance, but I admired his behavior in the companies 
 where I had seen and sounded him ; I believed him
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 201 
 
 possessed of qualifications for an excellent actor, and I 
 was not mistaken. 
 
 I composed, therefore, a comedy of character, under 
 the title of " Momolo Cortesan." Momoloin Venetian 
 is the diminutive of Girolamo (Jerome) ; but it is im- 
 possible to translate the adjective cortesan into any 
 ( it her language. This term cortesan is not a corruption 
 of the word courtier (courtesan), but is rather derived 
 from courtesy and courteous. The Italians themselves 
 are not generally acquainted with the Venetian corte- 
 san : hence when I committed this piece to the press, I 
 called it " L'Uomo di Mondo/' and were I to translate 
 it into French, I should be induced to give it the title 
 of " The Accomplished Man." Let us see whether I 
 am mistaken. The true Venetian cortesan is service- 
 able, officious, and possessed of probity. He is gen- 
 erous without profusion ; gay without rashness ; fond 
 of pleasure without ruining himself; he is prepared to 
 bear a part in everything for the good of society; he 
 prefers tranquillity, but will not allow himself to be 
 duped ; he is affable to all, a warm friend and a zeal- 
 ous protector. Is not this an accomplished man f 
 
 I shall be asked whether there are many of these 
 cortesans at Venice. Yes ; a tolerable number. There 
 are people possessed of these qualities in a greater or 
 less degree ; but when we are to exhibit the character 
 to the public, we must always display it in all its per- 
 fection. 
 
 That any character may be productive of effect on 
 the stage, it has always appeared to me necessary to 
 contrast it with characters of an opposite description. 
 In this piece I introduced a rascally Venetian, who 
 deceives strangers ; and my cortesan, without being 
 acquainted with the persons imposed on, secures them
 
 202 MEMOIES OF 
 
 from the deceit and unmasks the knave. Harlequin is 
 not a stupid servaut in this play ; he is an idle fellow 
 who insists on his sister supporting his vices ; the 
 cortesan procures an establishment for the girl, and 
 subjects the lazy fellow to the necessity of working for 
 his bread. In short, this accomplished man finishes 
 his brilliant career by marriage, and chooses among 
 the women of his acquaintance the one with the least 
 pretensions and the greatest share of merit. 
 
 This piece was wonderfully successful, and I was 
 satisfied. I saw my countrymen renouncing their old 
 relish for farces ; I saw the announced reform, but I 
 could not yet boast of it. The piece was not reduced 
 to dialogue ; and the only part written out was that of 
 the principal actor. All the rest was outline ; I had 
 endeavored to suit the actors ; but they were not all 
 equally qualified to fill the void with skill. There was 
 not that equality of style which characterizes the pro- 
 duction of one author ; I could not reform everything 
 at once without stirring up against me all the admirers 
 of the national comedy, and I waited for a favorable 
 moment to attack them boldly with greater vigor and 
 greater safety. My comedians were to play on the 
 mainland during the spring and summer ; they were 
 desirous of my following them ; but I told them, in the 
 language of Scripture, li Uxorein duxi " (I have taken 
 a wife). 
 
 Another reason confirmed me in my resolution of 
 remaining at Venice. The proprietor of the theatre 
 where my comedies were acted in autumn and winter 
 employed me to write a musical drama for the fair of 
 the Ascension of that year. I composed this piece 
 during Lent, and I was desirous of being present at the 
 execution. It was to be set to music by the celebrated
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 203 
 
 Galuppi, who wont by the name of Buranello ; but, 
 recollecting, before delivering it to him, that I was 
 mistaken in my Amalasonte, and being uncertain 
 whether I had succeeded in observing all the extrava- 
 gances which arc called rules in the musical drama, I 
 wished it to be seen and examined before submitting 
 it to the public, and I made choice of Apostolo Zeno, 
 who had then returned from Vienna, where he was 
 succeeded by Metastasio, as my judge and adviser. 
 
 These two illustrious authors effected the reforma- 
 tion of the Italian opera. Before thein^ nothing but 
 gods, devils, machines, and wonders were to be found 
 in these harmonious entertainments. Zeno was the 
 first who conceived the possibility of representing tra- 
 gedy in lyrical verse without degradation, and of sing- 
 ing it without producing weakness. He executed the 
 project in a manner the most satisfactory for the pub- 
 lic and the most glorious for himself and his nation. 
 In his operas we see heroes such as they actually were, 
 or at least such as they have been handed down to us 
 by historians ; his characters are vigorously supported ; 
 his plans always well conducted ; his episodes are 
 necessarily connected with the main action ; and his style 
 is masculine and vigorous, and the words of the airs 
 adapted to the music of his day. Metastasio, who suc- 
 ceeded him, brought lyrical tragedy to the utmost per- 
 fection of which it was susceptible; his style is pure 
 and elegant; his verses flowing and harmonious; an 
 admirable precision and clearness prevail throughout 
 his sentiments, and this precision is concealed under 
 the veil of an apparent facility; he displays the most 
 affecting energy in the language of the passions; his 
 portraits, his groups, his rich descriptions, his mild mo- 
 rality, his insinuating philosophy, his analysis of the
 
 204 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 human heart, the profusion and skilful application of 
 his knowledge : his airs, or rather his incomparable 
 madrigals, sometimes iu the manner of Pindar and 
 sometimes that of Anacreon, have all rendered him the 
 subject of most deserved admiration, and entitled him 
 to the immortal crown conferred on him by the Ital- 
 ians and acquiesced in by other nations. 
 
 "Were I to venture on comparisons, I should say that, 
 in his style. Metastasio has imitated Racine, and that 
 Zeno imitated the vigor of Corneille. Their genius re- 
 sembled their characters. Metastasio was mild, pol- 
 ished, and agreeable in company. Zeno was serious, 
 profound, and instructive. To the latter then I made 
 my application to analyze my Gustavus. I found 
 this respectable author in his closet ; he received me in 
 a very polite manner, and listened to my drama from 
 beginning to end without uttering a single word. I 
 could discern, however, from the expression of his 
 countenance, the good and faulty passages of my work. 
 "This is good," said he, taking me by the hand; "it 
 will do very well for the fair of the Ascension." 
 
 I understood his meaning, and I was proceeding to 
 tear my drama to pieces ; but he prevented me, and 
 told me by way of consolation that my opera, however 
 indifferent, was a hundred times better than those 
 which their authors, under the pretext of imitation, 
 <mly copied from others. He durst not mention him- 
 self; but I knew the plagiarisms of which he had good 
 grounds for complaint. I profited by the mute correc- 
 tions of M. Zeno ; I made a few changes in those places 
 at which my judge gnashed his teeth; my opera was 
 given : the actors were good, the music excellent, and 
 the ballets very gay ; nothing was said of the drama ; 
 I kept behind my curtain ; I shared in the applause to
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 205 
 
 which I had no claim ; and I said, by way of quieting 
 myself, This is not my fuite ; I shall have my revenge 
 in my first comedy. 
 
 The work, which I had in readiness for the return 
 of my comedians, was "II Prodigo" (The Prodigal). 
 The subject of this piece was not selected by me from 
 the class of the vicious, but from that of the ridiculous. 
 My Prodigal was neither a gamester, a debauchee, nor 
 magnificent. His prodigality was merely weakness ; 
 he gave for the sole pleasure of giving f his heart at 
 bottom was excellent ; but his simplicity and credulity 
 exposed him to embarrassment and derision. This was 
 a new character ; I knew the origiuals ; I had seen and 
 studied them on the banks of the Brenta, among the 
 inhabitants of those magnificent and delightful country- 
 houses where opulence shines forth and mediocrity is 
 ruined. The excellent actor, who had supported so 
 well \he brilliant character of the Venetian Cortesan, 
 succeeded admirably in representing the slowness and 
 apathy of character of my Prodigal. I gave this rich 
 and liberal individual a knavish and dexterous steward, 
 who availed himself of the disposition of his master 
 and furnished him with occasions and means for satis- 
 fying it. Whenever money was wanted, this easy indi- 
 vidual . always ended with saying to the traitor who 
 seduced him: "Carovecchio fe vu "3 that is to say. 
 "I rely on you, my friend, dt) the best you can." Cer- 
 tain persons in whose mouths this phrase was familiar 
 were recognized, and attempts were made to discover 
 the original. I selected him from the crowd of rich 
 individuals who are the dupes of their weakness and 
 their seducers; but an anecdote which I invented hap- 
 pened, unfortunately for me, to correspond with an oc- 
 currence in real life, and nearly ruined me. A young
 
 206 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 woman, who would have become his wife but for the 
 decayed state of his affairs, is, with her relations, on a 
 visit at the Prodigal's house on the Brenta. The lover 
 offers her a valuable ring, which the lady refuses. Some 
 time afterwards, the attorney of the Prodigal arrives 
 from Venice with the news that he has gained his law- 
 suit. The generous man is desirous of showing his joy 
 and gratitude, and, having no money, he gives the ring 
 to the attorney, which he accepts, and then returns 
 home. In the mean time the lady, having been advised 
 to accept the trinket, lest the young spendthrift should 
 dispose of it in an improper manner, returns and men- 
 tions the ring, and excuses her former refusal ; she 
 could not receive it without permission ; that permis- 
 sion she had now obtained — Alas ! the ring is no 
 longer in his possession ; the lover is inconsolable, the 
 Prodigal in despair ! What trouble and embarrass- 
 ment ! This is one of those fortunate situations which 
 amuse the spectators, which produce revolutions, and 
 which bring the action naturally to a close. 
 
 It was said that this adventure had actually hap- 
 pened to an individual of high rank, to whom I lay 
 under considerable obligations. Fortunately, this lord 
 did not discover the circumstance, or affected not to per- 
 ceive it. He was interested in my success ; my piece 
 succeeded ; and he was as well pleased with it as my- 
 self. My Prodigal had twenty successive representa- 
 tions when it first came out : it was equally fortunate 
 when resumed during the carnival : but the characters 
 in masks complained that I did not give them enough 
 to do, and that I was on the point of ruining them. 
 They had their amateurs aud protectors disposed to 
 defend their cause. 
 
 In consequence of their complaints, and agreeably to
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 207 
 
 the plan laid down by me, in the beginning of the comic 
 year j gave a comedy of intrigue, entitled the " Thirty- 
 two Misfortunes of Harlequin." The execution of this 
 fell to Saechi at Venice; and I was certain of its suc- 
 cess. This actor, known on the Italian stage by the 
 name of Truftaldin, added to the natural graces of his 
 action a thorough acquaintance with the art of comedy 
 and the different European theatres. Antonio Saechi 
 possessed a lively and brilliant imagination; he played 
 in comedies of intrigue; but while other harlequins 
 merely repeated themselves. Saechi, who always ad- 
 hered to the essence of the play, contrived to give an 
 air of freshness to the piece, by his new sallies and un- 
 expected repartees. It was Saechi alone whom the 
 people crowded to see. His comic traits and his jests 
 were neither taken from the language of the lower 
 orders nor that of the comedians. He levied contribu- 
 tions on comic authors, on poets, orators, and philoso- 
 phers ; and in his impromptus we could recognize the 
 thoughts of Seneca, Cicero, or Montaigne; but he pos- 
 sessed the art of appropriating the maxims of these 
 great men to himself, and allying them to the simplicity 
 of the blockhead; and the same proposition which was 
 admired in a serious author became highly ridiculous 
 in the mouth of this excellent actor. I speak of Saechi 
 as of a man no longer in existence; for, on account of 
 his great age, there remains only to Italy the regret 
 of having lost him without the hope of ever possessing 
 his equal. 
 
 My piece, supported by the actor above-mentioned, 
 was as successful as such a comedy could be. The 
 amateurs of masks and outlines were satisfied with me. 
 They found more propriety and common-sense in my 
 Thirtv-two Misfortunes than in the comedies of art.
 
 208 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I observed that what gave the greatest pleasure in my 
 piece was the accumulation of events upon one another. 
 I availed myself of this discovery, and gave, fifteen days 
 afterwards, a second comedy of the same kind, still more 
 crowded with business and events, as I called it " The 
 Critical Night; or, The Hundred and Four Events in 
 the same Night." 
 
 This piece might he called the touchstone of the 
 comedians, for it was labored with such complication 
 and ingenuity, that ncne but the actors to whom I in- 
 trusted it could have executed it with the same accuracy 
 and facility. I experienced the truth of this four years 
 afterwards. I was then at Pisa in Tuscany. A stroll- 
 ing company thought proper, by way of paying court 
 to me, to act this piece. Next day, in a coffee-house 
 on the quay of the Arno, I heard a person say, " Dio 
 mi guardi da mal di denti e da Cento e Quattro Acci- 
 denti" (God keep me from the toothache and The 
 Hundred and Four Accidents). This proves that the 
 reputation of an author frequently depends on the exe- 
 cution of the actors. He ought not to lose sight of that 
 truth. We require the assistance of one another, and 
 we ought to entertain for one another reciprocal love 
 and esteem, servatis servandis. 
 
 XV. 
 
 I had satisfied the barbarous taste of my country- 
 men, and laughed in my sleeve at their compliments ; 
 and I burned with the desire of carrying the reform 
 completely through. But an event took place this 
 year, which interrupted for several months the course 
 of my favorite occupation. 
 
 Count Tuo, the Genoese consul at Venice, having
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 209 
 
 died, the relations of my wife, who were in the enjoy- 
 ment of credit and influence, demanded the place for 
 me, and soon carried it. 
 
 I was now in the bosom of my country, honored with 
 the confidence of a foreign republie ; and it required 
 some time to become acquainted with an employment 
 of which I was altogether ignorant. The only Genoese 
 minister at Venice was their consul. I was therefore 
 charged with everything. I wrote off despatches every 
 eight days ; I communicated news, and set up for poli- 
 tician. This trade I learned at Milan, and I had not 
 yet forgotten it. My accounts, reflections, and conjec- 
 tures were relished at Genoa, and I was by no means 
 on bad terms with the diplomatic body at Venice. 
 
 My new situation and my new occupations did not pre- 
 vent me from resuming the thread of my theatrical 
 pursuits ; and in the carnival of the same year I gave 
 an opera to the theatre of St. John Chrysostom, and a 
 comedy of character to that of St. Samuel. 
 
 My opera, the title of which was " Orontes, King of 
 Scythia," had a very brilliant success. The music of 
 Buranello was divine; the decorations of Jolli superb; 
 the actors excellent ; not a word was said of the book ; 
 but the author of the words did not on that account 
 the less enjoy the good fortune of this charming spec- 
 tacle. 
 
 But at the theatre, when a new piece of mine, called 
 " The Bankruptcy," was acted at the same time, all the 
 applauses, all the clapping of hands and bravos, were 
 for me. In this piece there were far greater numbers 
 of written scenes than in the two preceding ones. I 
 proceeded quietly in making my advances towards the 
 liberty of writing my pieces entirely out ; and notwith- 
 standing the impediments of masks, I soon accom- 
 plished my wish.
 
 210 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I was now full of honors and joy ; but you know, 
 my dear reader, that my happy days have never been 
 of long duration. When the consulate of Genoa was 
 offered to me, I accepted it with gratitude and respect, 
 without demanding what were the emoluments of the 
 office. This was another of my follies, for which I 
 paid dearly. I thought of nothing at first but render- 
 ing myself worthy of the good- will of the republic, 
 with whose confidence I was honored. I took lodgings 
 in which I could receive foreign ministers in a suitable 
 manner. I increased my domestic establishment, my 
 table, and my retinue. I thought I could not with 
 propriety act otherwise. In writing after the lapse of 
 some time to the secretary of state, with whom I cor- 
 responded, I mentioned the article of my salary ; and I 
 received for my consolation from the secretary an 
 answer nearly in the following terms: u Count Tuo 
 [my predecessor] served the republic for nearly twenty 
 years without any emolument; the senate were satis- 
 fied with me ; the government considered it proper 
 that I should be recompensed, but the Corsican war 
 rendered the republic unable to defray an expense which 
 for so long a time it had ceased to provide for." 
 
 What sad news for me ! The profits of the consulate 
 did not amount to a hundred crowns per annum. I 
 wished to throw up my situation instantly ; but by the 
 following courier I received a letter from a Genoese 
 senator, confiding an intricate commission to my care, 
 and encouraging me to remain in office. 
 
 A person intrusted with the affairs of the republic 
 of Genoa, and who held in a foreign court the commis- 
 sion of the senate, and full powers from the public 
 creditors, had abused the confidence of the Genoese, 
 escaped with considerable sums of money, and been
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 211 
 
 living for several days quietly at Venice. The senator 
 sent ine letters of credit for Santin Cambiasio, the 
 banker, and a power to obtain the body or a seizure of 
 the goods of his debtor. The commission was deli- 
 cate, and the execution promised to be attended with 
 difficulty. I knew my country, however: in a gov- 
 ernment where there are almost as many primary 
 tribunals as matters subject to contestation, if the 
 affair be good, there are means of obtaining justice 
 without violating the delicacy of the law of nations. I 
 was listened to, and well served : my client was in- 
 demnified, and the money and effects passed through 
 my hands into those of M. Cambiasio, to be disposed 
 of by the Genoese patrician. This affair, which was 
 well conducted and happily terminated, did me infinite 
 honor ; but my unlucky star was not long in over- 
 whelming me with its influence. In the inventory of 
 the effects recovered by me, there were two boxes of 
 gold enriched with diamonds. I was intrusted with the 
 sale of them. I confided them to a broker; this rascal 
 pledged them with a Jew, left the duplicates, and made 
 his escape. I was the responsible person, and it was 
 requisite to pay for their recovery. M. Cambiasio sup- 
 plied me with money on account of the senator, and 
 my father-in-law paid it back again at Genoa out of 
 the remainder of his daughter's portion which he still 
 owed me. 
 
 I was by no means therefore in easy circumstances 
 in the beginning of the year 1740 : ami to add to my 
 misfortune, I was all at once deprived of the best part 
 of my rents. The war between the French and Span- 
 iards on the one hand, and the Austrians on the other 
 began to break out. It was called the war of Don 
 Philip ; and Lombardy Mas inundated with foreign
 
 212 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 troops to install that prince in the possession of Panna 
 and Placentia. The Duke of Modena joined his forces 
 To those of the Bourbons. He was a generalissimo of 
 their army : and. to support the expenses of the war, 
 he stopped the payment of the annuities of the ducal 
 bank called Luoghi di Monte. 
 
 This void in my domestic affairs threw me into great 
 consternation. I could no longer maintain my rank in 
 society. I formed the resolution of setting out instantly 
 for Modena in quest of money at all hazards, and to 
 pass on to Genoa, and demand justice. I wrote in con- 
 sequence to the republic, and demonstrated the in 
 sity of a journey, I demanded permission to appoint a 
 substitute in my place, and I waited for the consent of 
 the senate. In this expectation, and in the midst of 
 my chagrins and embarrassments, my brother arrived 
 from Modena, as much dissatisfied as myself with the 
 suspension of our annuities, and still more piqued at 
 not having been included in the new promotion made 
 by his royal highness in his troops. He had quitted the 
 service altogether, and came to enjoy his tranquillity at 
 my expense. 
 
 On the other haud, I was teased for works by the 
 comedians. This was my only consolation; but Sacchi 
 had left us, and the half of his comrades had followed 
 him. Golinetti, the pantaloon, was no longer with us, 
 and the most essential actors were all new to me. I 
 sought out the individual amongst them most capable 
 of interesting me, and my predilectiou for waiting- 
 maids induced me to fix on Madame Baccherini, who 
 succeeded the sister of Sacchi in that character. 
 
 She was a young Florentine, extremely pretty, very 
 gay. and very brilliant, with a plump and round figure, 
 white skin, dark eyes, a great deal of vivacity, and a
 
 CABLO GOLDOXI. 213 
 
 charming pronunciation. She Lad not the skill and 
 experience of the actress who preceded her, but she was 
 possessed of a most happy aptitude for improvement, 
 and she required nothing hut study and time to arrive 
 at perfection. Madame Baccherini was married as well 
 as myself. We became friends ; we were necessary to 
 each other: I contributed to her glory, and she dissi- 
 pated my chagrin. 
 
 It was an established custom amongst the Italian 
 actors, fur the waiting-maids t<> give several times 
 every year pieces which were called transformations, as 
 the Hobgoblin, the Female Magician, and others 
 of the same description, in which the actress, appear- 
 ing under différent forms, was obliged to change her 
 dress frequently, to act different characters and speak 
 various languages. Of the forty or fifty waiting-maids 
 whom I could name, not two of them were bearable. 
 The characters were false, the costumes caricatured, 
 the languages indistinct, and the whole illusion de- 
 stroyed. What else was to he expected / for to enable 
 a woman to support in an agreeable manner such a 
 number of changes she must be under the real opera- 
 tion of the charm which is supposed in the piece. My 
 beautiful Florentine was dying of eagerness to display 
 her pretty countenance in different dresses. I corrected 
 her folly at the same time that I endeavored to gratify 
 it. I invented a comedy, in which, without change of 
 language or dress, she could support different charac- 
 ters : an affair which is not very difficult for a woman, 
 and especially a clever woman. 
 
 The title of this piece was " La Donna di Garbo " 
 (The Admirable Woman). It afforded great pleasure 
 in the reading; Madame Baccherini was enchanted 
 with it, but the theatres at Venice were on the point
 
 214 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of closing. The company were to pass the spring at 
 Genoa, and it was to be acted there for the first time. 
 I proposed to appear there also at the first representa- 
 tion, but I became all of a sudden the sport of fortune. 
 Events of a singular nature overturned my projects, 
 and I did not witness the representation of my piece 
 till four years afterwards. 
 
 On the removal of the comedians I felt myself lonely ; 
 for in my then disagreeable situation every company 
 wearied me. 1 thought only of my journey : my mother 
 and my aunt stood in no need of my assistance ; my wife 
 was to follow me, and my brother alone was burden- 
 some to us all. He entertained the highest idea of him- 
 self: I was of a different opinion, and he was offended 
 at my way of thinking. For example, he did not hesi- 
 tate to ask me to propose him to supply my place dur- 
 ing my absence from Venice, or to send him to Genoa 
 to solicit the salary of my office ; but I did not believe 
 him cut out for either of these commissions, and I went 
 on as usual, till I should receive letters from Genoa, in 
 the execution of my project. 
 
 The letters arrived, the permission was granted, my 
 substitute was approved of, and I was satisfied. I re- 
 solved therefore to go to Modena to demand payment 
 of my annuities ; to go to Genoa to solicit payment of 
 my salary ; to be present at the representation of the 
 Donna di Garbo, as La Baccherini would perhaps re- 
 quire my assistance, and at any rate would be very 
 glad to see me. The charms of this delightful actress 
 added to my eagerness ; I feasted myself with the idea 
 of seeing her perform this important part in my piece. 
 
 But, heavens ! the brother of Madame Baccherini . 
 was still at Venice. He waited on me ; I saw him in 
 tears ; he could not pronounce a single word ; he put a
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 215 
 
 letter from Genoa into my hands, containing an account 
 of the death of his sister. 
 
 After this event I still adhered to my project 3 bat I 
 was not so eager to set out, and even endeavored to 
 put off my departure. A Boeiety of noble Venetians 
 had taken a lease of the theatre of St. John Chrysos- 
 tniu for five years, and demanded an opera from me 
 for the fair of the Ascension. At first I refused to sat- 
 isfy them : but on becoming master of my time, I 
 accepted of the commission, and finished it! a few days 
 an opera entitled " Statira," which I had in my port- 
 folio. I was present at the rehearsals and the rep- 
 resentation of this drama, and I drew the profits of 
 authorship and received an extraordinary récompense 
 from these generous lessees. I had reason to be sat- 
 isfied with this prolongation of my stay in Venice, but 
 I paid very dear for it in the sequel, and I was in- 
 debted to my brother for the cruel embarrassment in 
 which I was placed. He entered my house one day at 
 two o'clock in the afternoon, and pushed open with his 
 cane the folding doors of my study. His hat was 
 drawn over his brow, his countenance was red. his 
 eyes sparkling, — I knew not whether from joy or 
 rage. Looking hard at me with a disdainful air, 
 "Brother," said he, "you will not always treat me 
 as lightly as you do now." " What do yon mean. 
 brother? " "I do not compose verses, but every one 
 has his value, — I have made a discovery." u If it 
 can be of any use to you. T shall be exceedingly glad." 
 " Yes, useful and honorable for me, and still more use- 
 ful and honorable for you." "For me!" "Yes: I 
 have made an acquaintance with a Kagusan captain, 
 a man, — a man who has not his fellow. He keeps np 
 a correspondence with the principal courts of Europe:
 
 216 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 he ha? commissions at which you would tremble ; he 
 is employed to raise recruits for a new regiment of two 
 thousand Sclavonians : hut, heavens ! if the gov- 
 ernment of Venice were to discover this, we should he 
 ruined, — brother, — brother, — I have disclosed the 
 matter, yon know the importance of discretion." 
 
 I wished to suggest a few reflections to him. " Listen 
 to me," said he, interrupting me ; " there is a captaincy 
 here open for me ; I have served in Dalmatia, as you 
 know; this my friend also knows; he knew my uncle 
 Visinoni at Zara, and he destines a company for me. 
 But for you," continued he, " it is quite another affair." 
 " For me / what the devil does he want with me ? n 
 " He knows you by reputation, he esteems you, you 
 will be the auditor, the grand judge of the regiment." 
 "If" "Yes, you." 
 
 At that moment the servant entered, and announced 
 to us that dinner was ready. "The deuce take both 
 you and the dinner!" said my brother; "we have 
 business to transact : leave us undisturbed." " But 
 cannot you defer it," said I, "till after dinner f " 
 " Not at all : it must wait." " Why ?" " The cap- 
 tain is coming." " So you have asked him ?" " Yes ; 
 are you displeased that I have taken the liberty to in- 
 vite a friend ! " " The captain is your friend, then ! " 
 " I have no doubt of it." " You have just formed ac- 
 quaintance with him, and he is your friend already f " 
 " We soldiers are not courtiers ; we know one another 
 at first sight; honor and glory form the bond of our 
 union, and next moment we become friends." 
 
 My wife arrived, and entreated us to be done. 
 " Good heavens ! madam," cried my brother, " this is- 
 being very impatient." " It is your mother," said 
 she, " who is growing impatient." " My mother, my
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 217 
 
 mother, — let her dine and go to bed." "All this, my 
 brother, smells sadly of gunpowder. 1 * " I am sorry, 
 I am sorry ; but the captain cannot be long." A 
 knock was heard; it was the captain; a number of 
 
 compliments and excuses passed, and we sat down to 
 dinner. 
 
 This man had more the appearance of a courtier 
 than a soldier. He was supple, mild, affected, his 
 complexion was wan, his face long, his nose aquiline, 
 and his eyes small, round, aucKgreenish. He was very 
 gallant, very attentive to the ladies, holding grave dis* 
 courses to the old women, and saying pleasant things 
 to the young, yet none of his little stories seemed to 
 take off his attention from his dinner. We took our 
 coffee at table ; my brother put me in mind of the 
 remainder of my stock of wine for the sake of enter- 
 taining his friend, and the Ragusan, my brother, and 
 myself went to shut ourselves up in my study. 
 
 As the recommendation of my brother did not give 
 me the most favorable idea of this unknown person, 
 and as he did not want for address or foresight, he re- 
 counted to me in a very rapid and elegant preamble, 
 his name, his country, his condition, his titles, his ex- 
 ploits, and concluded with showing me the letters- 
 patent, written in the Italian language, in which he 
 was empowered to raise two thousand men of the 
 Illyrian nation for a new regiment in the service of the 
 power from whom he held the commission. In these 
 letters the- Ragusan was appointed colonel of the regi- 
 ment, with the power of naming officers, judge, quarter- 
 masters, etc., and they contained the signatures of the 
 sovereign minister and secretary of state of the war 
 department with the seal of the crown. I was not any 
 great judge of these foreign signatures, and I was dis-
 
 218 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 trustful of a man whom I only saw foi the first time, 
 and till I should be enabled to verify their authenticity, 
 I ventured to put a few questions to the captain, who 
 did not fail to give me satisfactory answers. I first 
 asked him by what accident my brother and myself 
 were so fortunate as to interest him in our favor. 
 
 11 Your brother." said he. "is a man who may be of 
 utility to my interests. He is acquainted with Dal- 
 lnatia and Albania, where he lias served, and these are 
 two provinces capable of supplying excellent men for 
 our regiment. I mean to provide him with letters and 
 money and send him there to recruit." At this my 
 brother clung round the Bagusan. " You shall see, 
 my friend, you shall see ; I shall procure for you Dal- 
 matians. Albanians. Croatians, Molachians, Turks and 
 devils: let me alone, — Gospodina, Gospodina, dobro, 
 jutro, Gospodina." 
 
 The captain, who was himself a Sclavonian, and 
 laughed in his sleeve perhaps at this displaced lllyrian 
 salutation of my brother, smiled, and turning towards 
 me: " For you. sir," said he, " I do myself an honor 
 in requesting yon to accept the office of auditor-general 
 of my regiment. You are bred to the law, and your 
 situation of consul — But apropos of the place which 
 you fill,'' continued he, " I have a favor to demand of 
 you. I am at present in Venice, which is a free coun- 
 try : but the affair in which I am now engaged is very 
 delicate, and might give offence to the government on 
 account of their Dalmatian subjects : I am beset by 
 spies : I am afraid of being taken by surprise : and if 
 you could lodge me in your house, I should not perhaps 
 be secure from the pursuits of the republic, but I should 
 have time to escape them." 
 
 •• Sir," said I, " my lodgings are not sufficiently
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 219 
 
 commodious." My brother exclaimed, interrupting 
 me, " I shall give up my room to the captain." I en- 
 deavored to defend myself, but in vain. Thus the 
 Bagusan got himself established in my house. 
 
 The society of this man was agreeable enough; I 
 allowed myself to he gained over without difficulty: 
 and I conld not bring myself to suspect him. I wished, 
 however, to have nothing to reproach myself with. 
 Wherever I heard persons mentioned as being concerned 
 in the secret of the businessman question, I began to 
 make inquiries. I called on the merchants employed 
 for the regimental uniforms. I spoke to the officers 
 engaged by the brevet-colonel. He received one day 
 a bill of exchange for six thousand ducats, drawn on 
 MM. Pommer, brothers, German hankers; the bill was 
 not accepted because they had received no letters, of 
 advice, but the signatures were exactly imitated. My 
 belief was at length fixed, and I fell into the snare. 
 Three days afterwards the Bagusan entered the house 
 in great agitation and consternation; he had to pay 
 six thousand livres in the course of the day, and he 
 could procure no delay ; the officers of the law would 
 be despatched in pursuit of him ; the nature of the debt 
 would discover everything; he was in despair, as all 
 was ruined. I was affected by his discourse, my br< »ther 
 solicited me, my heart determined me. I made what 
 efforts I could to raise this sum ; I was fortunate enough 
 to succeed, I gave it in the course of the day to my 
 guest, and next day the scoundrel disappeared. 
 
 I was plunged in embarrassment : my brother made 
 inquiries after him to kill him; but he was fortunately 
 out of danger. All those who were duped by the 
 Bagusan repaired to my house, and we were forced to 
 stop their complaints to avoid the indignation of the
 
 220 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 government and the derision of the publie. What 
 resolution could I adopt .' The robber left Venice on 
 the lôth of September, 1741, and I embarked on the 
 18th with my wife for Bologna. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Sad. thoughtful, and plunged in chagrin, I was 
 about to pass a most disagreeable night in that courier's 
 
 bark, which in former times I had found very comfort - 
 al >le and very amusing. My wife, who was more reason- 
 able than myself, instead of complaining of lier situati* >n, 
 Bought only to console me. Animated by her example 
 and advice, I endeavored to dispel the regret for the 
 past by the hope of better fortune in future. I fell 
 asleep, and I found myself, on awaking, like a man 
 who lias been shipwrecked and who has saved himself 
 by swimming. 
 
 On arriving at the bridge of Lago Seuro on the Po, 
 at a league's distance from Ferrara, I took post and 
 arrived in the evening at Bologna. I was well ac- 
 quainted with that <-ity. and well known there. The 
 directors of the theatres called upon me ; they asked me 
 f»r some of my pieces: I made some difficulty, but I 
 was in want of money: they took care to offer me 
 some, and 1 was not backward in accepting it. I con- 
 fided three of my originals to them to be copied out. 
 It was necessary to wait : I waited accordingly, and I 
 did not lose my time. 
 
 I was asked at Venice for a comedy without females 
 and susceptible of military exercises, for a college of 
 the Jesuits. The pretended captain, who deceived me, 
 occurred to my mind and furnished me with a subject. 
 I entitled my piece "The Impostor*': I employed in
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 221 
 
 it all the warmth which indignation could possihly in- 
 spire : I portrayed my brother in vivid characters in it; 
 I did not span* myself, and I covered my simplicity 
 with all the ridicule which it deserved. This little 
 undertaking was of infinite benefit to me; it effaced 
 from my mind the dark hues with which it was colored 
 by the wickedness of a knave ; I deemed myself re- 
 venged. -My piece was concluded; the director.? re- 
 turned me my manuscripts, and I proposed setting out 
 for Modena. >* 
 
 At Bologna there was an excellent actor who played 
 pantaloon, and who, being in easy circumstances, pre- 
 ferred enjoying himself in the fine season, and to eon- 
 fine his acting to winter. This man, whose name was 
 Ferramonti, had never quitted me during my stay at 
 Bologna. He had entered into an engagement with a 
 company of comedians at Rimini, in the service of the 
 Spanish camp, and he came to take his leave of me on 
 setting out. 
 
 " You are going to Rimini," said I, " and I am 
 going to Modena." "What are yon going to do at 
 Modena?" said he, "they are all in consternation 
 there ; the duke has left the place." " What, the 
 duke is not there V " He is engaged in a ruinous 
 war." " I know that ; but where is he ? " " He is at 
 Rimini, in the Spauish camp, where he will pass the 
 winter." 
 
 This threw me into great distress. " I have lost my 
 opportunity through my own fault : I have lost too 
 much time." " Conic along with me to Rimini," said 
 Ferramonti, "where you will find a tolerable com- 
 pany; they ought to know and esteem you. Come 
 with me. you shall do something for us, and we will do 
 everything for you."
 
 222 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The proposition did not displease me ; but I wished 
 to consult my wife. She was a Genoese ; we were on 
 the road to her relations ; but, poor child ! she was 
 goodness and complacency personified. Whatever her 
 husband proposed was approved of by her. Content 
 to see me tranquil and satisfied, she encouraged me to 
 follow my new project, and we set out three days after- 
 wards with the good old Venetian. 
 
 On arriving within sight of the ramparts of Rimini, 
 Ave were stopped at the first advanced post and escorted 
 to the main guard. There the comedian was set at 
 liberty on declaring who he was, and my wife and my- 
 self were sent to the court of Modena. I knew several 
 persons of all ranks attached to his highness ; ' I was 
 well received, and even caressed. A lodging was pro- 
 cured for me, and next day I was presented to that 
 prince, who received me with kindness, and asked me 
 the motive which induced me to visit Rimini. I was 
 not long in telling him the truth ; but I had no sooner 
 pronounced the words " ducal bank" and " arrears," than 
 his highness turned the conversation to the theatre, my 
 piece, and my success; and the audience terminated 
 two minutes afterwards. I saw that I had nothing to 
 hope for from this quarter ; I turned my views next 
 to the comedians, where my expectations were better 
 realized. 
 
 I was invited to dinner with the director, to whom 
 Ferramonti had spoken a great deal about me. All 
 the company were present ; the principal female char- 
 acter was an excellent actress, but very much ad- 
 vanced in years ; the second actress was a stupid and 
 badly educated beauty ; Coloinbina was a fresh and 
 attractive brunette ; she was the waiting-maid. 
 
 Everybody asked me for pieces; every one wished
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 223 
 
 to be the principal subject. To whom was I to give 
 the preference } . The Count de Grosberg extricated me 
 fnan my embarrassment. This brave officer, brigadier- 
 general of the regiment of Walloon guards, in the 
 army of his Catholic Majesty, was strongly attached 
 to the theatre. He was a particular protector of har- 
 lequin. He requested me to labor for that character, 
 and I did so with the greatest pleasure, as the harle- 
 quin was good and the protector generous. 
 
 The theatre was closed 041 the termination of the 
 carnival. M. de Gages, who acted along with the 
 generalissimo as general commandant, kept up the 
 most exact order, and the most rigorous discipline 
 throughout the whole army. There was no gaming, 
 no balls, no suspicious characters. Rimini resembled 
 a convent. The Spaniards paid their court to the 
 ladies of the country in the Castilian manner ; and the 
 ladies were pleased to see the sons of Mars on their 
 bended knees before them. The societies were numer- 
 ously attended, but free from tumult, and gallantry 
 shone forth without scandal. 
 
 The German troops quartered in the Bologna ter- 
 ritories made some movements which alarmed the 
 Spaniards. In three days the army decamped, and I 
 remained at Rimini in a state of greater embarrassment 
 than ever. I was a subject of the Duke of Modena ; 
 and I was Genoese consul at Venice ; and these two 
 nations in that war took the side of the Bourbons. I 
 had every reason to fear being considered by the Aus- 
 trians as a suspicious character. I communicated my 
 fears to persons belonging to the country with whom I 
 was acquainted. Everybody considered them well 
 founded ; but then how was I t<> act ? Neither horses 
 nor carriages were to be had. The army had carried 
 off everything.
 
 224 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I found some foreign merchants in the same predic- 
 ament with myself. I entered into an arrangement 
 with them; we agreed to go by sea, and hired a bark 
 for Pesaro. The weather was favorable, but there 
 had been a storm the night before, and the sea was 
 still in agitation. Our women suffered very much ; my 
 wife spit blood. We anchored in Catholica Roads, the 
 half of our projected voyage ; and finished our jour- 
 ney by land in a peasant's cart We left our effects in 
 charge of some of our domestics, who were to join us 
 at Pesaro, and we arrived in that town fatigued and 
 exhausted, without acquaintances and without lodgings, 
 and yet these were the least of the evils in store for 
 us. All was in confusion in Pesaro, which had more 
 people than could be contained in it. There was no 
 room in the inns, and no furnished lodgings to be had. 
 
 Count de Grosberg was at Fano ; all the officers of 
 my acquaintance were occupied, and the persons at- 
 tached to the Duke of Modena could only offer me their 
 table. A Modenese valet, in possession of a garret, 
 resigned his elegant apartment to me for money. 
 Next day I left my wife in her garret, and went to 
 the mouth of the Foglia to see if my goods were ar- 
 rived. I found my travelling companions there on 
 the same errand. They had passed the night still 
 more uncomfortably than myself. No barks from Ri- 
 mini : no news of our effects. I went back to the 
 town. Count de Grosberg had returned; he took 
 compassion on me, and allowed me to lodge with him- 
 self. At this I was not a little rejoiced; but two 
 hours afterwards I was plunged again in a terrible 
 consternation. 
 
 I met one of the merchants whom I had seen by 
 the seashore, and found him in great distress and
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 225 
 
 tation. "Well, sir," said he, " no news yet?" 
 
 "Alas .'"said he, u all is lust: the Austrian hussars 
 have taken possession of Catholica ; our bark, our 
 effects and servants, arc in their hands. I have just 
 now received a letter from my correspondent at Ri- 
 mini, communicating the news." " heavens ! what 
 shall we do .' " said I. '• I know not," he replied; and 
 abruptly quitted me. 
 
 I stood thunderstruck. The loss was irreparable 
 for me ; my wife and myself were very well equipped ; 
 we had three trunks, two portmanteaus, boxes, and 
 bandboxes ; and now we were left without a shirt. 
 Great evils require great remedies. I formed my pro- 
 ject instantly ; I thought it a good one, and proceeded 
 to communicate it to my protector. I found him ap- 
 prised of the invasion of Catholica, and acquainted 
 him with the loss of my effects. "I shall go and 
 endeavor to recover them," said I ; "I am not a 
 soldier, I am not attached to Spain; I require merely 
 a conveyance for myself and wife." Count de Gros- 
 berg admired my courage ; and to get rid of us per- 
 haps, he commenced with procuring for me the pass- 
 ports of the German commissary, who followed the 
 Spanish troops for that purpose, and who gave orders 
 to let me have a chaise. There was no post at that 
 time ; the drivers concealed themselves. One was 
 at length discovered, and they forced him to take me. 
 He was kept all night in M. de Grosberg's stables, 
 and I set out early next morning. 
 
 I have not spoken of my wife since this last acci- 
 dent, for the sake of not tiring my reader's patience, 
 but the situation of a woman who loses all at once — 
 her jewels, dress, and everything belonging to her, 
 may be easily imagined. However, she was of a
 
 226 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 thoroughly good and reasonable temper, and readily ac- 
 companied me on my journey. The driver, a fair speak- 
 ing but crafty fellow, came fur us when he was ready, 
 and exhibited not the slightest mark of discontent ; and 
 we set out after takinir some breakfast, quite tranquil and 
 gay. The distance from Pesaro to Catholica was ten 
 miles : we had gone three of them, when we were 
 under the necessity of alighting. I ordered the driver 
 to stop : we got down, and the rascal turned the 
 horses immediately, set off at a gallop for Pesaro, and 
 left us in the middle of the highway without either 
 resource, or the slightest hope of finding any. Not a 
 living soul was to be seen. Not a peasant in the fields, 
 not a single inhabitant in any of the houses : every- 
 l« >dy dreaded the approach of the two armies ; my 
 wife wept. I raised my eyes towards heaven, and felt 
 myself inspired. " Courage," said I, " my dear friend ; 
 we are but six miles from Catholica; we are young 
 enough and strong enough to walk that distance ; we 
 must not return. — we must have nothing to reproach 
 ourselves with.'' She complied with the best grace in 
 the world, and we continued our journey on foot. 
 
 After an hour's walk we came to a rivulet too 
 broad to be leaped and too deep to be forded by my 
 wife. There was a small wooden bridge for the con- 
 venience of foot-passengers, but the planks were all 
 broken. This did not disconcert me: I stooped 
 down, my wife put her arms round my neck, I rose 
 smilinçf. crossed over the stream with inexpressible joy, 
 and said to myself, " Omnia bona mea mecum porto " 
 (I carry all my property upon me). My feet and legs 
 were wet, but it did not signify. We continued our 
 journey, and after some time came to another stream 
 like that we had passed. The depth was similar, and
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 227 
 
 the bridge was equally ruinons. This was no ob- 
 stacle ; we passed it as we did die former, and with 
 the same gayety. Rut it was a very different matter 
 when, close upon Catholica, we came to a torrent of 
 considerable breadth, which rushed along with great 
 fury. We sat down at the foot of a tree, till Provi- 
 dence should afford us the means of crossing it with- 
 out danger. 
 
 Neither carriages, horses, nor carts were to be seen ; 
 then- was no inn in the neighborhood; we were fa- 
 tigued, we had passed this day without eating any- 
 thing, and we were therefore in want of some refresh- 
 ment. I rose for the purpose of looking about me. 
 "This torrent," said I, u must necessarily enter the 
 sea. If we descend its banks, we shall at last come 
 to the mouth of it." We proceeded accordingly down 
 the stream, instigated by distress and supported by 
 hope: and we began to discover sails, which were an 
 indication of the proximity of the sea. This infused 
 courage into us, and we quickened our pace. As we 
 proceeded, we observed the torrent become less and 
 less agitated, and our joy was not to be contained 
 when at length our eyes were blessed with the sight 
 of a boat. It belonged to some fishermen, from 
 whom we met with a very kind reception. They 
 carried us over to the opposite bank, ami returned us 
 a thousand thanks for a paoli which I gave them. A 
 geeond consolatory circumstance was neither less agree- 
 able nor less necessary to us. A branch of a tree 
 attached to a cottage announced a place of refresh- 
 ment : we procured milk and new-laid (fiZ^, with 
 which we were highly satisfied. 
 
 The repose and Slight nourishment which we had 
 taken enabled us to proceed on our journey. We
 
 228 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 were guided by a lad of the inn to the first advanced 
 posts of the Austrian hussars. I presented my pass- 
 port to the sergeant, who detached two soldiers to 
 escort us, and Ave arrived through fields of trodden 
 grain, and vines and trees cut down in all directions, 
 to the quarters of the colonel commandant. This 
 officer received us at first as he would any two foot- 
 paesengers ; "but on reading the passport which one of 
 the soldiers gave him, he requested us to he seated. 
 Then looking at me with an air of goodness, he ex- 
 claimed: "What, are you M. Goldoni?" "Alas! I 
 am, sir." "The author of Belisarius and of the 
 Venetian Cortesan?" "The same." "And is this 
 lady Madame Goldoni?" "She is my only remain- 
 ing property." " I was told that you were on foot." 
 "It is hut too true, sir." 
 
 I then recounted to him the rascally trick which 
 the driver of Pesaro played us ; I described our sad 
 journey to him, and concluded with mentioning the 
 seizure of our property, assuring him that my resources 
 and my situation in life depended altogether on my 
 recovering them. 
 
 " Not so fast, if you please," said the commandant ; 
 "why do you follow the army ? Why are you connected 
 with the Spaniards ? " 
 
 As the truth had never yet injured me, hut had al- 
 ways, on the contrary, "been my support and my defence, 
 I gave him a short account of my adventures. I men- 
 tioned my Genoese consulate, my Modena annuities, 
 my views of indemnification ; and I told him that I 
 should he completely ruined if I were deprived of the 
 small remains of my wrecked fortune. 
 
 " Console yourself," said he in a friendly tone to me, 
 " you shall not lose it." My wife rose with tears of
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 229 
 
 joy in her eyes, and I in turn wished to express my 
 gratitude ; but the colonel would not listen to me. He 
 ordered my servant and all my property to be sent to 
 me, but on one condition, that I might take any road 
 but that of Pesaro. " No, certainly/' said I ; " your 
 kindness, the obligations which I have—" He would 
 not give me time to conclude ; he had business, he 
 embraced me, kissed my wife's hand, and went to 
 shut himself up in his closet. His valet-de-chambre 
 accompanied us to a very comfortable inn. I offered 
 him a sequin, which he very nobly refused, and left us. 
 An hour afterwards, my servant arrived in tears at 
 seeing himself free and us haj>py ; our trunk's had been 
 forced open, but I had the keys. A locksmith soon 
 put them to rights. 
 
 I hired next morning betimes a cart for my passage. 
 My wife and myself travelled post, and we went to join 
 our good friends at Rimini. On arriving at the first 
 advanced post, I was escorted to the main guard of 
 Rimini. The captain was at table. On learning that 
 a man who came post was in waiting, he gave orders 
 for our entrance. The first person whom I saw on 
 eutering was my friend and countryman M. Borsaii, 
 who was principal secretary of Prince Lobcowitz, field- 
 marshal and general commandant of the Imperial army. 
 M. Borsaii knew that I had passed the winter at 
 Rimini, and that I left it with the Spaniards. I im- 
 parted to him my motive for returning, the singular 
 particulars of my journey, and my intention of visiting 
 Genoa. 
 
 " No," said he ; " so long as we remain here, you 
 shall not go to Genoa." "What shall I do here?" 
 said I. " You shall amuse yourself." u That is the 
 best business, I know ; but still one must be doing
 
 230 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 something.'' ''We shall find you something to do; 
 ■\ve have a tolerable theatre here." " Who are the 
 principal actors .' " u Madame C a salin i is a very good 
 actress: Madame Bonaldi — " "The waiting-maid, 
 you mean?" •• Yes." "She is my friend. "Well, I 
 shall "be glad to see her again/' While M. Borsari 
 and myself were carrying on this conversation, my wife 
 did nut feel the greatest ease in the company of the 
 German officers, who did not prostrate themselves be- 
 fore the ladies like the Spaniards. She made me a 
 sign that the conversation was becoming wearisome to 
 her. We took our leave of the company, and Borsari 
 did not quit us. My servant was waiting for me at the 
 door, to inform me that my old lodgings were occupied. 
 Borsari promised that I should have them again, as he 
 c< >uld prevail on the officer, who was an acquaintance 
 of his, to relinquish them for others. In the mean time 
 he accommodated us in his own house, and gave us a 
 room beside his own, which we gladly accepted and 
 occupied for three days. 
 
 Next day my friend presented me to his master. The 
 prince had heard of me. He communicated the plan 
 of a fête to me, and intrusted me with the management 
 of it. The empress-queen, Maria Theresa, had just 
 then married the archduchess, her sister, to Prince 
 Charles of Lorraine. Marshal Lohcowitz was desirous 
 of displaying rejoicings at Rimini for this august mar- 
 riage ; he enjoined me to write a cantata : and he left 
 the choice of the composer, and the number and quality 
 of the voices, to Borsari and myself. He left us mas- 
 ters of everything, and all that he recommended was 
 order and promptitude. There was a music-master at 
 Rimini named Ciccio Maggiore, by no means of the 
 first rank of composers, but who might well pass in
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 231 
 
 time of war. "We made choice of him for the music, 
 and ordered two male and two female singers from 
 Bologna. I composed words to some old music of our 
 composer, and in a month's time our cantata was exe- 
 cuted in the theatre of the town, to the satisfaction of 
 the person who proposed it, and of the foreign officers 
 and nobility of the place. The composer and myself 
 Merc very liberally recompensed by the German general ; 
 hut the Neapolitan, who was by no means a fool, sug- 
 gested beforehand a means which he had perhaps more 
 than once put in practice for the augmentation of our 
 profits. We hound up a considerable number of copies 
 of our printed cantata : and we went round in a hand- 
 some coach to present copies to all the officers of the 
 staff of the different regiments in the town and envi- 
 rons. We received as the fruits of this proceeding a 
 purse very decently filled with Venetian sequins, Span- 
 ish pistoles, and Portuguese pieces, which we divided 
 equally between us. 
 
 In the mean time I received a letter from Genoa, ac- 
 quainting me that a Venetian merchant, without any 
 intention of injuring me, solicited my office of consul, 
 in case I was unwilling to retain it, and offered to do 
 the duty without any emolument, for the sake of the 
 title, which, in his situation, was of much greater ad- 
 vantage to him than it could be to me. The Genoese 
 senate did not deprive me of the office, but they placed 
 me in the predicament of either withdrawing, or serving 
 gratuitously. I adopted the first resolution ; I resigned 
 the office and never thought of it afterwards. 
 
 Besides, I had suffered so much that I was glad to 
 have an opportunity of enjoying some tranquillity fora 
 little time. I had money, I had nothiug to do, and I 
 was happy.
 
 232 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Rimini presented quite a different appearance from 
 that which it exhibited during; the possession of it by 
 the Spaniards. There were amusements of every de- 
 scription : halls, concerts, public games, brilliant socie- 
 ties. Every description of character, every situation 
 in life, might find entertainment of some kind or other. 
 I was fond of my wife, I shared my pleasures with her, 
 and she followed me everywhere. 
 
 The journey to Genoa was now useless ; I was free, 
 and the master of my inclinations; I possessed a suffi- 
 ciency of money, and I was induced to carry into 
 execution a project which I had long entertained. 
 
 I wished to visit Tuscany; to go over it and reside 
 there for some time. I required to get familiarized 
 with the Florentines and Sienese, who are the living 
 texts of the pure Italian language. I imparted this 
 wish to my wife ; I pointed out to her that this jour- 
 ney brought us nearer to Genoa ; she appeared satis- 
 fied, and we determined on setting out for Florence. 
 
 My wife and myself took post to Castrecarro ; from 
 thence we crossed the Alps of St. Benedict on horse- 
 back, and we arrived at length in that fine territory to 
 which we owe the revival of letters. I will not enlarge 
 on the beauty and attractions of the city of Florence ; 
 all writers and travellers do justice to it. Elegant 
 streets, magnificent palaces, delightful gardens, superb 
 walks, numerous societies, literature generally culti- 
 vated, multitudes of curiosities, the arts patronized, 
 talents held in estimation, a flourishing agriculture, a 
 rich soil, an important commerce, a rich river run- 
 ning through the town, a considerable seaport in its 
 dependencies, handsome men and beautiful women, 
 gayety, wit. strangers from all nations, amusements of 
 every description, — it is a charming country.
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 233 
 
 I passed four most delightful months in this city, 
 where I formed several very interesting acquaintances: 
 that of the Senator Ruseellai. Auditor of the Jurisdic- 
 tion ; Doctor Cocchi, a systematic physician and an 
 agreeable philosopher; the Abbe Grorri, an enlight- 
 ened antiquary, well versed in the Etruscan language; 
 the Abbe Lami, author of a literary journal, the best 
 work of the kind ever seen in Italy. 
 
 It was my intention to pass the summer in Florence 
 and the autumn in Siena; but the desire which I en- 
 tertained of seeing and hearing the Chevalier Perfetti 
 determined me to set out in the beginning of the month 
 of August. >* 
 
 Perfetti was one of those poets, only to he met with 
 in Italy, who compose and deliver verses extempore ; 
 hut he was so superior to every other person, and 
 added such science and elegauce to the facility of his 
 versification, that he gained the honor of being crowned 
 in the eapitol of Rome; an honor which had never 
 been conferred on any since the days of Petrarch. 
 
 This celebrated man was very aged; he was seldom 
 to be seen in company, and still less in public. I was 
 told that he was to make his appearance on Assump- 
 tion Day at the Academy of the Intronati of Siena. 
 I set out instantly with my faithful mate; and we 
 were admitted as strangers to a place in the Academy. 
 Perfetti was seated in a sort of pulpit ; one of the accad- 
 emicians addressed him ; and as he could not wander 
 from the subject of the festival for which the academy 
 was met, he proposed for argument the rejoicings of 
 the angels on the approach of the immaculate body of 
 the Virgin. 
 
 The poet sang for a quarter of an hour strophes in 
 the manner of Pindar, and nothing could be more
 
 234 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 surprising ; he was by turns a Petrarch, a Milton, and 
 a Rousseau ; he was Pindar himself. I was glad that 
 I had heard him, and I paid him a visit next day. My 
 acquaintance with him procured me a number of others. 
 The society of Sienna was delightful. There was not 
 a gaming party which was not preceded by a literary 
 conversation ; every one read their own compositions, 
 or those of others, and the ladies participated in this 
 as well as the men. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 I intended to stay only a few days at Pisa, and I 
 remained three years there. I settled in the place with- 
 out wishing it, and entered into engagements without 
 considering what I was about. My comic genius was 
 not extinguished, but suppressed. Thalia, piqued at 
 my desertion, despatched emissaries from time to time 
 to bring me again to her standards. I yielded at length 
 to the gentle violence of an agreeable seduction, and I 
 quitted a second time the temple of Themis for that 
 of Apollo. 
 
 I shall use my utmost endeavors to comprise in a 
 few words the transactions of a period of three years 
 which alone would require a volume. 
 
 I amused myself in examining the remarkable curi- 
 osities of Pisa the first day after my arrival : the ca- 
 thedral, which is rich in statues and paintings ; the 
 singular steeple, which outwardly seems to incline very 
 much to one side, and which appears straight in the 
 inside ; the churchyard, surrounded with a superb 
 portico, and containing earth impregnated with alkali 
 or calcareous salts, which reduces dead bodies to ashes 
 in twenty-four hours. But I began to be wearied, for 
 I knew nobody.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 235 
 
 Walking one day near the castle, I observed a num- 
 ber of coaches round a gateway, and people entering. 
 On looking in, I saw a vast court with a garden at the 
 end of it, and a number of persons seated under a sort 
 of arbor. 
 
 I approached nearer; I observed a man in livery, 
 who had the air and manners of a man of importance. 
 I asked to whom the place belonged, and why such a 
 number of people were then assembled. 
 
 This very polite and intelligent valet was not long in 
 satisfying my curiosity. " The assembly which you 
 sec," said he, " is a colony of the Arcadi of Rome, 
 called la Colonia Alfea, the JColony of Alpheus, a very 
 celebrated river in Greece, which flowed through the 
 ancient Pisa in Ellis." 
 
 I inquired whether I could be present at the meet- 
 ing. u By all means," said the porter; who accom- 
 panied me himself to the entrance of the garden, and 
 then presented me to one of the valets of the academy, 
 by whom I was seated in the circle. I listened atten- 
 tively, and heard productions of every description. I 
 applauded the bad as well as the good. 
 
 Everybody looked at me, and seemed curious to 
 know who I was; I was seized with a desire to satisfy 
 them. The man who procured me the place was not 
 far from my chair. I called him, and desired him to 
 ask the person who presided in the assembly whether 
 a stranger might be permitted to express in verse the 
 satisfaction which he had experienced. The presi- 
 dent announced my demand to the assembly, who 
 readily gave their consent. 
 
 I had a sonnet in my head, composed by me in my 
 youth, under similar circumstances; I hastily changed 
 a few words to adapt it to the occasion. I delivered
 
 236 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 my fourteen verses with the tone and inflection of 
 voice which set off sentiment and rhyming to the great- 
 est advantage. The sonnet had all the appearance of 
 being extemporaneous, and was very much applauded. 
 I know not whether the sitting was to have been 
 longer protracted, but all the assembly rose and flocked 
 round me. 
 
 Here was a circle of acquaintances formed at once ; a 
 number of societies to choose from. That of M. Fabri 
 was the most useful and agreeable for me. He was 
 chancellor of the Jurisdiction of the Order of St. Ste- 
 phen, and he presided over the Assembly of the Arcadi, 
 under the pastoral title of Guardian. 
 
 I saw all the Arcadian shepherds who were that day 
 assembled in succession : I dined with some and supped 
 with others. The Pisans are very hind and obliging 
 to straugers, and they conceived a great friendship and 
 consideration for me. I announced myself as a Vene- 
 tian advocate : I told them part of my adventures ; 
 they saw that I was a man without employment, but 
 capable of it : they proposed to me to resume the gown 
 which I had quitted, and they promised me clients and 
 books. Any foreign licentiate nay practise at the bar 
 of Pisa : and I undertook boldly to plead as a civil and 
 criminal advocate. 
 
 The Pisans were every way as good as their word, 
 and I was fortunate enough to satisfy them. I labored 
 night and day : I had more causes than I could under- 
 take : I found out the secret of diminishing the burden 
 to the satisfaction of my clients : I demonstrated to 
 them the folly of litigation, and endeavored to bring 
 about a reconciliation with adverse parties. They 
 paid me for my consultations, and Ave were all of us 
 satisfied.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 237 
 
 Whilst my affairs were ir«»inir on prosperously, and 
 my el >set was in such a flourishing state as to inspire 
 my brethren with jealousy, the devil, I believe, sent a 
 company of comedians to Pisa. I could not abstain 
 from seeing them, and I was seized with a strong de- 
 sire to give them something of mine. They were too 
 indifferent actors for me to think of confiding a comedy 
 of character to them; but I abandoned to them my 
 outline of a comedy called " The Hundred and Four 
 Accidents in one Night" ', and it was on this occasion 
 I experienced the disagreeable circumstances men- 
 tioned in a former part of these memoirs. Mortified at 
 the failure of my piece, £ resolved nevermore to go 
 near the comedians, or to think of comedy. I redoub- 
 led my legal assiduity, and I gained three lawsuits 
 the same month. I also derived infinite honor from a 
 criminal defence. A young man of family had robbed 
 his neighbor. A door had been forced, and the young 
 man was on the point of being condemned to the gal- 
 leys. The family was respectable, he was an only 
 son, his sisters were unmarried, all these circumstances 
 stimulated me to endeavor to save him. After satisfy- 
 ing the party complaining, I caused the lock of his 
 apartments to be changed, so that the key of the other 
 party could open it. The young man had taken one 
 floor for another, he had opened the door by mistake ; 
 and, seeing the money spread out, the opportunity had 
 tempted him. 
 
 I began my memorial with the seventh verse of the 
 Twenty-fifth Psalm : " Delicta juventutis me* et igno- 
 rantias meas ne memineris, Domine" (Remember not 
 the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions, Lord). 
 I strengthened my pleading with classical quotations, 
 decisions of the Roman law and of the Criminal Cham-
 
 238 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ber of Florence, called II Magistral» degli Otto (the 
 Tribunal of Eight). I employed both reasoning and 
 pathos ; he was not a criminal inured to crimes, who 
 endeavored to palliate his guilt, but a rash and incon- 
 siderate young man, who owned his fault, and only 
 asked forgiveness for the sake of the honor of a re- 
 spectable father and two interesting young women of 
 quality who were fit for marriage. My youthful robber 
 was at length condemned to remain in prison for three 
 months ; the family were very well satisfied with me, 
 and the criminal judge was pleased to compliment me 
 on the occasion. This attached me more and more to 
 a profession which was at once productive of both 
 honor and pleasure, and a very reasonable profit. 
 
 In the midst of my labors and occupations, I received 
 a letter from Venice, which threw all my blood and 
 spirits into commotion. It was a letter from Sacchi. 
 This comedian had returned to Italy ; he knew I was 
 at Pisa : lie asked me for a comedy ; he even sent me 
 the subject of one, which he left me at freedom to work 
 on as I pleased. What a temptation for me ! Sacchi 
 was an excellent actor ; comedy had been my passion ; 
 I felt my old taste, my old fire and enthusiasm, reviving 
 within me. The subject proposed was " The Servant 
 of Two Masters " : and I easily saw what might be made 
 < f it with such an actor as Sacchi. I was therefore de- 
 voured with a desire of trying my hand again — I 
 knew not what to do --lawsuits and clients crowded 
 on me — but my poor Sacchi — but " The Servant with 
 Two Masters " — Well, for this time — but I cannot — 
 yes. I can. At length I wrote in answer that I would 
 undertake it. 
 
 I labored by day for the bar, and by night at my 
 play : I finished the piece, and sent it to Venice. No-
 
 CAELO GOLDOXI. 239 
 
 body know the circumstance ; my wife only was in the 
 
 secret, and she Buffered as much as myself. While I 
 w irked at my piece, my doors were closed at nightfall, 
 and I did not pass my evenings in the coffee-house of 
 
 the Arcadi. The first time I made my appearance 
 there, I was reproached for my neglect, and I excused 
 myself on account of my increase of business. These 
 gentlemen were very glad to see me employed; hut 
 still they were unwilling that I should forget the de- 
 lightful amusement of poetry. 
 
 M. Fabri arrived, and was delighted to see me. He 
 drew a large packet from his pocket, and presented me 
 with two diplomas which he had procured for me ; the 
 one was my charter of aggregation to the Arcadi of 
 Rome, under the name of Polisseno; the other gave 
 me the investiture of the Fegean fields. I was on this 
 saluted by the whole assembly in chorus under the 
 name of Polisseno Fegeio, and embraeed by them as a 
 fellow-shepherd and brother. The Arcadians are very 
 rich, as you may perceive, my dear reader ; we possess 
 estates in Greece : we water them with our labors for 
 the sake of reaping branches of laurels ; and the Turks 
 sow them with grain and plant them with vines, and 
 laugh at both our titles and our songs. 
 
 Notwithstanding my occupations, I still composed 
 sonnets, odes, and other pieces of lyrical poetry from 
 time to time for the sittings of our academy. But 
 however much the Pisans might be satisfied with me, 
 I was not satisfied myself. I must do myself justice, I 
 have never been a good poet. In point of invention 
 perhaps I have not been defective, and the theatre is a 
 proof of it : for my genius took that turn. 
 
 Some time afterwards Sacchi communicated to me 
 the success of my piece. ft The Servant of Two Mas-
 
 240 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ters" was applauded and drew immense crowds, and 
 he sent me a present which I did not expect ; but he 
 demanded another piece still, the subject of which he 
 left entirely to me. He wished, however, as my last 
 comedy had a comic foundation, that this should have 
 an interesting fable for basis, susceptible of sentiment 
 and all the pathos compatible with a comedy. This 
 was the language of a man ; I kuew him well ; I was 
 very desirous of satisfying him, and his mode of acting 
 engaged me still more to him ; but then my closet — 
 this kept my mind on the rack again. At my last 
 piece I had said only this once. I had three days to 
 answer him in. During these three days, walking; 
 dining, or sleeping, I thought of nothing but Sacchi ; 
 aud I was obliged to get this object out of my head to 
 be good for anything else. 
 
 I composed on this occasion the piece known in 
 France as well as Italy under the title of " Harlequin's 
 Child Lost and Found." The success of this trifle was 
 astonishing ; it was the means of bringing me to Paris, 
 and was therefore a fortunate piece for me ; but it shall 
 never see the light as long as I live, nor even have a 
 place in my Italian theatre. I composed it at a time 
 when my mind was agitated. It contained interesting 
 situations ; but I had not sufficient time to prepare 
 them with that precision by which good works are 
 characterized. There were diamonds perhaps in it, 
 but then they were set in copper; some of the scenes 
 appeared evidently the work of an author, but the piece 
 as a whole seemed the production of a scholar. I own 
 that the winding up of the plot might pass for a model 
 if the comedy taken altogether were not disfigured by 
 essential faults. Its principal defect is the want of 
 probability throughout. I have always judged it with-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 241 
 
 » 
 
 out prepossession, and I have never allowed myself to 
 be seduced by the applause lavished on it. 
 
 When my piece was finished. I read it attentively 
 over, and perceived all the beauties which might render 
 
 it agreeable, and all the defects with which it abounded. 
 I sent it, however, to its place of destination. Italy 
 had just begun to relish the first attempts at the re- 
 form projected by me. There still were numbers of 
 partisans of the old comedy, and I was certain that 
 mine, which did not wander much from the ordinary 
 and beaten track, would afford pleasure aud even sur- 
 prise from the mixture of comic and pathetic scenes 
 which I had artfully introduced. I afterwards learnt 
 the brilliaut success which it met with, aud I was not 
 astonished ; but what was my surprise, on arriving in 
 France, to find that this piece drew crowds, and was 
 applauded and even extolled to the skies in the Italian 
 theatre of Paris. It must be owned that we enter 
 theatres with very different ideas and prejudices ; and 
 the Frenchmen applaud in the Italian theatre what 
 they would condemn in that of their own nation. 
 
 After sending the Son of Harlequin to M. Sacchi, 
 who was to father it, I resumed my daily occupations. 
 I had several causes to despatch, and I began with that 
 which appeared to me most interesting. The client 
 whose cause I was engaged in was only a peasant ; 
 but the peasants of Tuscany are in easy circumstances, 
 always at law, and pay well. They have almost all 
 of them leases of their possessions to themselves, their 
 children, and grandchildren. They give a suitable sum 
 on entering into possession, and pay an annual quit- 
 rent. They consider these possessions as their own 
 property, they are attached to them, they improve them 
 carefully, aud at the end of the lease the proprietor
 
 242 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 derives the advantage. My client had to do with the 
 pri«»r of a convent, who wished the lease annulled on 
 the ground that monks are always minors, and that the 
 land might be let to greater advantage. I discovered 
 the hidden spring of all this. It was a young widow, 
 who. under the protection of the reverend father, wished 
 to dispossess the countryman. I composed a memorial, 
 which interested the nation, and in which I proved the 
 importance of preserving leases for lives from infringe- 
 ment. 1 gained my cause, and derived infinite honor 
 from my pleading. I was obliged some days afterwards 
 to go to Florence to solicit an order from the govern- 
 ment for shutting up a lady in a convent till the termi- 
 nation of the cause then commenced. She was of age 
 and a rich heiress, and had signed a contract of mar- 
 riage with a Florentine gentleman who held a com- 
 mission in the Tuscan army, and she was desirous of 
 marrying a young man more to her likintr. While my 
 client and myself were in the capital, the young lady 
 contrived to manage matters with her new favorite in 
 such a way as to elude our proceedings. The lawsuit 
 assumed another appearance, and threatened to become 
 serious. We listened to propositions, the lady was 
 rich, and the affair was amicably arranged. 
 
 On returning from Florence. I was obliged to go to 
 Lucca in another suit. I was glad to have an oppor- 
 tunity of seeing that republic, which is neither extensive 
 nor powerful, but which is rich, agreeable, and very 
 wisely governed. I took my wife along with me, and 
 we passed six days there in the most agreeable manner 
 in the world. It was the beginning of May. The day 
 of the Invention of the Holy Cross is the principal fes- 
 tival of this town. In the cathedral there is an image 
 of our Saviour, called II Volto Santo, which is exposed
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 24^> 
 
 that day with the most brilliant pomp, and such a num- 
 ber of voices and musical instruments as I have never 
 seen equalled either at Venice or Borne. A devout na- 
 tive of Lucca bequeathed a sum of money for receiving 
 in the cathedral on that day every musician who comes 
 forward, and to pay them not according to their talents, 
 hut the distance from which they come, and the recom- 
 pense is fixed at so much per League or mile. 
 
 When my business was over, and my curiosity grat- 
 ified, I quitted with regret that charming country, 
 which, under the protection of the emperor, pro tem- 
 pore, enjoys the most tranquil liberty, and pos» 
 the most salutary and exact police. I was glad to see 
 and show to my wife another very interesting part 
 of Tuscany. We proceeded through the territories of 
 Pescia, Pistoia, and Prato. It is impossible to see hills 
 with a better exposure, estates better cultivated, or 
 more luxuriant and delightful fields. If Italy be the 
 garden of Europe, Tuscany is the garden of Italy. 
 
 A few days after my return to Pisa, my wife's eldest 
 brother arrived at Genoa ; he was sent by his parents 
 to claim performance of my engagement to visit them. 
 I had been twice absent on business, and I could not 
 suffer myself to be absent a third time merely on pleas- 
 ure. My wife said nothing, but I knew the desire which 
 she had to see her family, and I foresaw the chagrin of 
 my brother-in-law, if he had been obliged to return 
 home alone. I arranged matters to the satisfaction of 
 all three; my wife accompanied her brother to Genoa, 
 and I remained by myself peaceably occupied with the 
 business of my closet. I had causes in every tribunal, 
 clients in every rank of life, the first-rate nobility, the 
 richest citizens, merchants of the highest credit, parish 
 priests, monks, rich farmers, and even one of my breth-
 
 244 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ren, who, being implicated in a criminal action, made 
 choice of me for his defender. Tims the whole town was 
 on my side : at least anybody would have supposed so, 
 as I myself most certainly did believe it ; but I soon 
 perceived that I was grossly mistaken. Through friend- 
 ship and consideration I had become naturalized in the 
 hearts of individuals : but I was still a stranger when 
 these same individuals met in a body. At this time an 
 old advocate of Pisa departed this life, who, according 
 to the custom of the country, was nominated the de- 
 fender of several religious bodies, of corporations and 
 different houses in the town, all which brought in to 
 him, in corn, oil, and money, a very respectable sum, 
 which defrayed the expenses of housekeeping. At his 
 death, I asked for all these vacant places, that I might 
 obtain some of them ; but they were all given to Pisans, 
 and the Venetian was excluded. I was told by way of 
 consolation, that I had only been two years and a half 
 at Pisa ; that my adversaries had, for four years at least, 
 been taking steps for succeeding the deceased ; that en- 
 gagements had been entered into on the subject ; and 
 that the very first opportunity I should be satisfied. 
 All this might be very true; but it was singular that, 
 out of twenty places, I could not procure oue. This 
 event threw me into ill-humor, and indisposed me to 
 such a degree that I no longer looked on my employ- 
 ment in any other light than as a casual and precarious 
 mode of subsistence. 
 
 One day, as I was busied in reflections of this nature, 
 a stranger, desirous of speaking to me, was announced. 
 I observed a man nearly six feet high and broad in pro- 
 portion, crossing the hall, with a cane in his hand, and 
 a round hat, in the English fashion. He entered with 
 measured step into my closet. I rose. He made a
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 245 
 
 picturesque gesticulation by way of preventing me from 
 putting myself under any constraint. He advanced, 
 and I requested him to be seated. Our conversation 
 began in this way : — 
 
 " Sir," said he, "I have not the honor of being"known 
 to you; but you must be acquainted with my father and 
 uncle at Venice. I am your humble servant, Darbes." 
 " What ! M. Darbes, the son of the director of the post 
 of Friuli; the boy who was supposed lost, who was so 
 much sought after, and so much regretted?" "Yes, 
 sir, that same prodigal, who has never yet prostrated 
 himself before his father." " Why do you defer 
 affording him that consolation?" "My family, my 
 relations, my country, shall never see me, till I return 
 crowned with laurels." "What is your profession, 
 sir ? " 
 
 He rose, and struck his round belly with his hand, 
 and in a tone which was a compound of haughtiness 
 and drollery, said to me, " Sir, I am an actor." " Every 
 description of talent is estimable," said I, " if he who 
 possesses it has attained distinction." " I am," he re- 
 plied, "the pantaloon of the company now at Leghorn; 
 I am not the least distinguished of the company, and 
 the public is pleased to flock to the pieces where I make 
 my appearance. Medebac, our manager, travelled a 
 hundred leagues in quest of me; I bring no dishonor 
 on my relations, my country, or my profession; and 
 without boasting, sir [striking his belly again as be- 
 fore], Garelli is dead, and Darbes has supplied his 
 place." 
 
 I wished to compliment him, but he threw himself 
 into a comic posture, which set me a laughing and 
 prevented me from continuing. "It is not through 
 vanity," he resumed, " that I make a boast of my ad-
 
 246 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 vantages at present to you ; I am an actor, and I am 
 speaking to an author whose assistance I want." 
 "You want my assistance?" "Yes, sir, I come to 
 ask a comedy from you ; I have promised my com- 
 panions to obtain a comedy from Goldoni, and I am 
 desirous of keeping my word." 
 
 " You wish one?" said I, smiling. " Y T es, sir, I 
 know you by reputation; you are as kind as you are 
 able, and I know you will not refuse me." " I am 
 occupied with business, and cannot gratify you." " I 
 respect your occupations: you will compose the piece 
 at your leisure, when you frel inclined." 
 
 He laid hold of my box while we were talking, took 
 snuff from it, slipped into it several golden ducats, shut 
 it again, and threw it down on the table with one of 
 those gesticulations which indicate a wish to conceal 
 what one would be very glad to have discovered. I 
 opened my box and refused to accept the money. 
 " Do not be displeased, I earnestly beg of you," said 
 he ; " this is merely to account of the paper." I wished 
 to return the money ; this gave rise to various postures 
 and bows ; he rose, withdrew, gained the door and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 What was to be done in such a case ? I adopted, 
 I think, the best resolution the affair admitted of. I 
 wrote to Darbes that he might rely on the piece which 
 he had demanded from me ; and I requested to be in- 
 formed whether he wished it for a pantaloon in a mask, 
 or without one. Darbes soon answered me ; he could 
 not throw any gesticulations or contortions into his 
 letter, but it was singular in its way. " I am to have 
 then," said he, '• a comedy from Goldoni. It will be 
 the lance and buckler, with which I shall challenge all 
 the theatres of the world — How fortunate I am !
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 247 
 
 I betted a hundred ducats with our manager, that I 
 should obtain a piece from Goldoni ; if I gain the bet, 
 the manager must pay, and the piece is mine. I am 
 young, and not yet sufficiently known; but I will 
 challenge Rubini, the pantaloon of St. Luke, and Cor- 
 rini, the pantaloon of St. Samuel in Venice ; I will 
 attack Ferramonti at Bologna, Pasini at Milan, Bel- 
 lotti, known by the name of Tiziani, in Tuscany, and 
 even Golinetti in his retreat, and Garelli in his grave. " 
 
 He concluded by telling me that he wished his 
 character to be that of a young man without a mask, 
 and he pointed out as a model an old comedy of art, 
 called "Pantalon Paroncin." 
 
 This word paroncin, both in the literal translation 
 and the character, corresponds exactly with the French 
 word petàt-maîùre ; for parou, in the Venetian dialect, 
 is the same aspatrone in Tuscan, and maître in French ; 
 and paroncin is the diminutive of paron, as petit- maître 
 is the diminutive of maître. 
 
 lu my time the Venetian paroncini played the same 
 part at Venice as the petit-maîtres at Paris ; but every- 
 thing changes. 
 
 There are now none in France, and perhaps they 
 exist no more in Italy. 
 
 I composed a piece for Darbes under the title of 
 " Tonin Bella Grazia," which may be translated, " The 
 Elegant Antonio." 
 
 I finished my work in three weeks, and carried it 
 myself to Leghorn , a town with which I was well ac- 
 quainted, being but four leagues from Pisa, and where 
 I had friends, clients, and correspondents. Darbes, to 
 whom I sent notice of my arrival, called upon me at 
 the inn where I lodged ; I read over my piece to him ; 
 he appeared very well satisfied with it, and with many
 
 248 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ceremonies, bows, and broken words, be very gallantly 
 gave me tbe bet which he had gained, and, to avoid 
 my thanking him, ran out instantly, under the pretext 
 of communicating the piece to the manager. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 After my conversation with Darbes, I looked at 
 my watch. It was two o'clock. I could not, at such 
 a late hour, break in on any of my friends, and I gave 
 orders to have something brought me from the kitchen 
 of my inn. As they were covering the table. M. Me- 
 debac was announced. On entering, he overpowered 
 me with politeness, and invited me to dine with him. 
 The soups were already on my table, and I thanked 
 him. Darbes, who accompanied the manager, took- 
 my hat and cane, and presented them to me. Medebac 
 insisted on his part ; Darbes laid hold of my left arm 
 and the other by the right : they locked me between 
 them, dragged me along, and I was forced to accom- 
 pany them. 
 
 On entering the manager's, Madame Medebac came 
 to receive us at the door of her antechamber. This 
 actress, as estimable on account of her propriety of 
 conduct as her talents, was young and handsome. She 
 received me in the most respectful and gracious manner. 
 We sat down to a very respectable family dinner, 
 which was served up with the utmost order and neat- 
 ness. They had advertised for that day a comedy of 
 art ; but, by way of compliment to me, they changed 
 the bills, and gave out " Griselda" ; adding, " A tragedy 
 by M. Goldoni." Although this piece was not alto- 
 gether mine, my self-love was flattered, and I went to 
 see it in the box destine i for me.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 249 
 
 I was extremely well pleased with Madame Mede- 
 bac, who played the part of Griselda. Her natural 
 gentleness, her pathetic voice, her intelligence, her 
 action, rendered her altogether an interesting object in 
 my eyes, and raised her as an actress above all whom 
 I had ever known. I complimented Madame Medebac 
 and her husband. This man, who was acquainted 
 with my works, and to whom I had confided the morti- 
 fications experienced by me at Pisa, made a very in- 
 teresting proposal to me a few days afterwards. I 
 must mention it to my reader ; for it was in conse- 
 quence of this proposal of Medebac that I renounced 
 the profession followed by me for three years, and that 
 I resumed my old occupation. 
 
 " If you are determined on quitting Tuscany," said 
 Medebac one day to me ; "if you mean to return to the 
 bosoms of your countrymen, your relations, and friends, 
 I have a project to propose to you, which will at least 
 prove to you the value which I set on your person and 
 talents. There are two play-houses at Venice," con- 
 tinued he; "I engage to direct a third, and to take a 
 lease of it for five or six years, if you will do me the 
 honor of laboring for me." 
 
 The proposition appeared to me flattering ; and it 
 required no great offer to turn the scale in favor of 
 comedy. I thanked the manager for the confidence 
 he reposed in me ; I accepted the proposition ; we 
 made an agreement, and the contract was instantly 
 drawn up. I did not sign it at that moment, for I 
 wished to communicate it to my wife, who had not 
 yet returned. I knew her docility, but I owed her 
 my esteem and friendship. When she arrived, she 
 approved of it, and I sent my signature to Leghorn. 
 
 My muse and pen were thus again at the disposal of
 
 250 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 an individual. A French author will, perhaps, think 
 this a singular engagement. A man of letters, it will 
 be said, ought to be free, and to despise servitude and 
 constraint. If this author be in easy circumstances 
 like Voltaire, or cynical like Rousseau, I have nothing 
 to say to him ; but if he be one of those who have no 
 objection to share in the profits derived from the sale 
 of their works, I beseech him to have the goodness to 
 listen to my justification. The highest price of ad- 
 mission to the theatre in Italy does not exceed the sum 
 of a Roman paoli, ten French sous. All those, it is 
 true, who go to the boxes, pay the same sum in enter- 
 ing; but the boxes belong to the proprietor of the thea- 
 tre, and the receipts cannot be considerable ; so that the 
 author's share is hardly worth the looking after. Men 
 of talents in France have another resource ; gratifica- 
 tions from the court, pensions, and royal presents. 
 But there is nothing of this kind whatever in Italy ; 
 and hence the description of people the best qualified 
 perhaps for mental excellence remain sunk in lethargy 
 and idleness. 
 
 I have sometimes been tempted to look upon myself 
 as a phenomenon. I abandoned myself, without re- 
 flection, to the comic impulse by which I was stimu- 
 lated; I have, on three or four occasions, lost the 
 most favorable opportunities for improving my situa- 
 tion, and always relapsed into my old propensity ; but 
 the thought of this does not disturb me ; for though 
 in any other situation, I might perhaps have been in 
 easier circumstances, I should never have been so 
 happy. I was very pleased with my new situation, 
 and my agreement with Medebac. My pieces were to 
 be received without any power of rejection, and to be 
 paid for without waiting the result. One représenta-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 251 
 
 tion was the same to me as fifty ; and if I bestowed 
 more attention and zeal in the composition of my 
 works, to insure their success, I was stimulated solely 
 by the love of glory and honor. 
 
 I connected myself with Medebac in the mouth of 
 September, 1746, and I was to join him at Mantua in 
 the month of April in the following year. I had thus 
 six months' time to arrange my affairs at Pisa, to de- 
 spatch the causes in hand, to give up others which I 
 could not retain, to take leave of my judges and clients, 
 and to bid a poetical adieu to the Academy of the 
 Arcadi. I discharged every duty, and set out after 
 Easter. Before quitting Tuscany, I was anxious once 
 more to pay a visit to the city of Florence, the capital. 
 In taking leave of my acquaintances, it was proposed 
 to me to visit the Academy of the Apatisti. It was 
 not unknown to me ; but I wished to see that day 
 the sibillone, a sort of literary amusement which takes 
 place from time to time, and which I had never yet 
 seen. The sibillone, or great sibyl, is a child of only 
 ten or twelve years of age, who is placed on a tribune 
 in the middle of the assembly. Any one of the persons 
 repsent puts a question to the young sibyl ; the child 
 must pronounce some word on the occasion which 
 becomes the oracle of the prophetess, and the answer 
 to the proposed question. These answers of a boy, 
 without time for reflection, are in general destitute of 
 common-sense; but an academician beside the trib- 
 une rises up, and maintains that the sibillone has 
 returned a very proper answer, and undertakes to give 
 an immediate interpretation of the oracle. 
 
 That the reader may have some idea of the Italian 
 imagination and boldness, I shall give some account 
 of the question, the answer, and the interpretation, the 
 day when I was present.
 
 252 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 A person who, like myself, was a stranger, asked the 
 sibyl to inform him why women weep with greater. ease 
 and more frequently than men. The only answer 
 which the sibyl returned was straw ; and the interpreter, 
 addressing the author of the question, maintained that 
 nothing could be more decisive or satisfactory than 
 the oracle. This learned academician, who was a tall 
 and lusty abbé of about forty, with a sonorous aud 
 agreeable voice, spoke for nearly three quarters of an 
 hour. He went into an analysis of different sleuder 
 plants, and proved that straw surpassed them all in 
 fragility ; he passed from straw to women ; and in a 
 mauner equally rapid and luminous, entered into an 
 anatomical view of the human body. He explained 
 the source of tears in the two sexes. He proved the 
 delicacy of fibres in the one, and the resistance in the 
 other. He concluded with a piece of flattery to the 
 ladies who were present, in assigning the prerogatives 
 of sensibility to weakness, and took care to avoid say- 
 ing anything of their having tears at command. 
 
 I own that this man surprised me. It was impossi- 
 ble to display more erudition and precision in a matter 
 which did not seem susceptible of it. These are tricks, 
 I am willing to admit, something in the taste of the 
 masterpiece of an unknown author (chef -cV œuvre d'un 
 inconnu) ; but it is not the less true that such talents 
 are rare and estimable, and that they only want en- 
 couragement to rise to a level with many others, and 
 carry those who possess them down to posterity. 
 
 On returning to my lodgings the same day, I found 
 a letter from Pisa, informing me that my trunks were 
 at the custom-house of Florence. I sent them off 
 next day for Bologna, and arrived at Mantua towards 
 the end of April.
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 253 
 
 Medebac, who impatiently expected me, received me 
 with joy, and procured me lodgings with Madame Bal- 
 Letti. She was an old actress, who, under the name 
 of Fravollctta, had excelled in the characters of wait- 
 ing-maids. She had left the Stage, and was in easy 
 circumstances, and, at the age of eighty-five, still pos- 
 sessed remains of beauty and an attractive wit. She 
 was mother-in-law to Miss Silvia, the delight of the 
 Italian theatre at Paris, and mother-in-law to M. Bal- 
 letti, who distinguished himself in Venice as a dancer, 
 and afterwards in France as an actor. 
 
 I passed a month at Mantua very uncomfortably, 
 and almost always confined to bed. The air of that 
 marshy country did not agree with me. I gave the 
 manager two new comedies composed by me for him. 
 He appeared satisfied with them, and allowed me to go 
 to Modena, where he was to pass the summer. I was 
 wise in leaving Mantua, for I felt relieved on reaching 
 the second station, and I arrived at Modena in perfect 
 health. 
 
 The war was now over. The Infante Don Philip 
 was in possession of the duchies of Parma, Piacenza, 
 and Guastalla. The Duke of Modena had returned to 
 his dominions ; the ducal bank proposed an arrange- 
 ment with the annuitants ; and I was glad to have an 
 opportunity of attending myself to my own interests. 
 
 Towards the end of July Medebac and his company 
 arrived at Modena, where I gave him a third piece ; but 
 I kept my novelties for Venice. I had there laid the 
 foundation of an Italian theatre, and it was there I in- 
 tended to labor in the construction of that new edifice. 
 I had no rivals to contend with, but I had prejudices 
 to overcome. 
 
 If my reader has had the complaisance to follow me
 
 254 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 thus far, the matter which I have now to offer to his 
 attention will engage him perhaps to continue his 
 kindness towards me. My style will be always the 
 same, without elegance and without pretension, but 
 animated by zeal for my art, and inspired by a love of 
 truth.
 
 PART THE SECOND. 
 
 I. 
 
 „ HAT a satisfaction for me to return at the end 
 RÇ of five years to my country, winch had always 
 Z2 been dear to me, mid which improved in my 
 eyes after every absence. After my last de- 
 parture from Venice, my mother took apartments for 
 
 herself and sister in the court of St. George, 
 
 the 
 
 neighborhood of St. Mark. The quarter was beautiful, 
 and the situation tolerable ; and I joined my dear 
 mother, who always caressed me, and never com- 
 plained of me. She questioned me respecting my 
 brother, and I made similar inquiries of her ; neither 
 of us kuew what had become of him. My mother be- 
 lieved him dead, and shed tears ; but I knew hiin 
 somewhat better, and was certain that he would one day 
 return to be a burden to me. In this I was not deceived. 
 
 Medebac had taken the theatre of St. Angelo, which 
 was not over large, was less fatiguing to the actors, 
 and contained a sufficient number of people to produce 
 adequate receipts. I have forgotten the piece which 
 was represented at the opening of the theatre. I 
 only know that the company, being strangers, had to 
 straggle with very able rivals, and had the greatest 
 difficulty in obtaining protectors and partisans. 
 
 Darbes, who acted the Venetian characters, had al-
 
 256 'MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ways been well received and even applauded hitherto 
 in them : hut he had never yet played without a mash, 
 and the absence of this was precisely what was most 
 calculated t<> set him off to advantage. He durst nut 
 act in the characters composed by me for Golinetti in 
 the theatre of St. Samuel. In this respect I thought 
 him quite right ; for first impressions are not easily 
 effaced, and comparisons ought, as far as possible, 
 carefully to be avoided. Darbes could only therefore 
 appear in the Venetian piece which I had composed 
 for him. I was afraid that "The Elegant Antonio" 
 would not equal the " Cortesan Veneziano/' but we 
 could only make a trial. 
 
 We began to put it in rehearsal. The actors were 
 quite overcome with laughter, and I laughed heartily 
 myself. We thought the public would follow our ox- 
 ample ; but the public, which is said to have no opinion 
 of its own, was quite firm and decided against this 
 piece at its first representation, and I was obliged in- 
 stantly to withdraw it. In similar circumstancas I have 
 never been disgusted either with the spectators or 
 actors, but have always begun coolly to examine my- 
 self. I saw this time that I was clearly in the wrong. 
 This unfortunate comedy is in print. So much the 
 worse for me and for those who take the trouble of 
 reading it. I shall only observe, in atonement for 
 my fault, that when I wrote this comedy, I had been 
 four years out of practice ; my head was occupied 
 with my professional employment, I was uneasy in 
 mind and in bad humor, and, to add to my mis- 
 fortune, it was approved of by my actors. We were 
 sharers in the folly, and we were equal sharers in 
 the loss. 
 
 Poor Darbes was very much mortified, and it be-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 257 
 
 came necessary to console him. I instantly began a 
 now piece of the same sort, and in the mean time I 
 made him appear with his mask in a new comedy 
 which did him great honor and was eminently suc- 
 cessful. This was "The Prudent Man." a piece in 
 three acts, and in prose. This comedy had the great- 
 est success in Venice. The declamations with which 
 it abounded were nut in the taste of good comedy, "but 
 Darhes could not possibly have been more at his ease 
 in displaying the superiority of his talents in the differ- 
 ent shades which he had to express. Nothing more 
 was necessary to procure him the general character of 
 the most accomplished actor then on the stage. But 
 to establish his reputation still more, it was necessary 
 to exhibit him in a situation where he could shine with 
 his countenance unmasked. This was my project, and 
 the principal aim I had in view. While Darhes was 
 in the enjoyment of the applause he derived from his 
 Prudent Man, I lahored at a piece for him entitled 
 " The Venetian Twins." 
 
 I had had sufficient time and opportunities to exam- 
 ine into the different personal characters of my actors. 
 In Darhes I perceived two opposite and habitual move- 
 ments in his figure and his actions. At one time he 
 was the gayest, the most brilliant and lively man in 
 the world ; and at another he assumed the air, the man- 
 ners, and conversation of a simpleton and a blockhead. 
 These changes took place quite naturally, and without 
 reflection. This discovery suggested to me the idea 
 of making him appear under these different aspects in 
 the same play. The play was extolled to the very 
 skies. The incomparable acting of Darhes contributed 
 infinitely to its success. His glory and his joy were at 
 their height. The director was not less pleased to
 
 258 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 witness the complete success of his undertaking, and I 
 had my share also in the general satisfaction in seeing 
 myself caressed and applauded a great deal more than 
 I deserved. 
 
 I had given three new pieces since my return to 
 Venice without having my tranquillity disturbed by 
 any criticism ; but during the Christmas holidays, 
 when those who had no employment were deprived of 
 the amusement of the theatres, several pamphlets 
 against the author and the players made their appear- 
 ance. It was the company of Medebac which was 
 principally aimed at. They called it the Company of 
 Rope-Dancers ; and these expressions were the more 
 malicious, as they had some sort of truth for their 
 foundation. Madame Medebac was the daughter of a 
 rope-dancer. The uncle who acted Brighella had been 
 clown ; and Darbes was married to the sister-in-law 
 of the principal of these tumblers. This family, how- 
 ever, though educated in a perilous and disreputable 
 situation, were most exemplary in their morals, and 
 were nowise defective in point of education. Medebac, 
 who was a good actor, and the friend and countryman 
 of these people, observing that several of them pos- 
 sessed talents for comedy, advised them to change 
 their situation. To this they agreed, and Medebac 
 took upon himself to form them. The new actors 
 made the most rapid progress under him, and in a short 
 time were enabled to make head against the oldest and 
 most respectable companies in Italy. Was it fair to 
 reproach this company, which had always behaved most 
 respectably, and now had attained great proficiency, 
 with their former profession ? This was pure malice, 
 and proceeded from the jealousy of their rivals. They 
 were dreaded by the other theatres of Venice, who,
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 259 
 
 unable to ruin thorn, were mean enough to treat them 
 with contempt. When I first saw these co sm indaao 
 Leghorn, I was as much attached to them on account 
 of their talents as their conduct ; and I endeavored to 
 raise them, through their own care and my efforts, at 
 that degree of consideration which they every way 
 merited. But all these efforts of the enemies of Mede- 
 bac were vain. The comedians gained every day a 
 ■firmer footing ; and the play which I am about to men- 
 tion completely established their credit and enabled 
 them to enjoy the most perfect tranquillity. 
 
 We opened the carnival of the year 1748 by the 
 " Vedova Scaltra" (The Goming Widow). Several 
 of my plays had been very fortunate, but none of them 
 equalled this. It had thirty successive representations ; 
 and was everywhere represented with the same suc- 
 cess. The commencement of my reformation could not 
 be more brilliant. I had another play still to give for 
 the carnival. It was of importance that the close of 
 it should not disappoint the expectations which the 
 success of the beginning of the year gave rise to. I 
 hit upon a work perfectly calculated to crown my 
 labors. 
 
 I had seen at the theatre of St. Luke a piece called 
 " Le Putte de Castello " ( The Girls of the Quarter of 
 Castello). This was a popular comedy, the princi- 
 pal subject of which was a Venetian girl without 
 talents, morals, or address. The work made its ap- 
 pearance before the theatres were placed under the con- 
 trol of a censor. Character, plot and dialogue, every- 
 thing was faulty, everything was dangerous. It was 
 a national comedy, however. It amused the public, 
 and served to draw crowds, who laughed at the misap- 
 plied jokes. I was so much pleased with the public,
 
 260 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 who began to prefer comedy to farce, and decency to 
 scurrility, that, to prevent the mischief which this 
 piece was calculated to produce in minds yet undecided, 
 I gave one in the same style, but respectable and in- 
 structive, which I called, " La Putta Onorata " (The 
 Respectable Girl), and which was calculated to prove 
 an antidote to the poison of " The Girls of the Quar- 
 ter of Castello." 
 
 In some of the scenes of this comedy I painted the 
 Venetian gondoliers from nature in a very entertaining 
 manner to those who are acquainted with the language 
 and maimers of my country. I wished to be recon- 
 ciled to this class of domestics, who were deserving of 
 some attention, and who were discontented with me. 
 The gondoliers at Venice are allowed a place in the 
 theatre, when the pit is not full ; but as they could not 
 enter at my comedies, they were forced to wait for 
 their masters in the streets or in their gondolas. I 
 had heard them myself distinguish me with very droll 
 and comical epithets ; and having procured them a few 
 places in the corners of the house, they were quite de- 
 lighted to see themselves brought on the stage, and I 
 became their friend. The piece had all the success which 
 I could desire. It was impossible to conclude the sea- 
 son with greater brilliancy. My reform was now far ad- 
 vanced. What a happiness and pleasure for me ! While 
 I worked on the old plots of the Italian comedy, and only 
 gave pieces partly written and partly sketched, I was 
 allowed the peaceable enjoyment of the applause of the 
 pit : but when I announced myself for an author, an 
 inventor, and poet, the minds of men awoke from their 
 lethargy, and I was supposed worthy of their attention 
 and their criticisms. My countrymen, so long ac- 
 customed to trivial farces and gigantic representations,
 
 CAELO GOLDOXI. 261 
 
 became all at once the most rigid censors of my pro- 
 ductions. The names of Aristotle, Horace, and Cas- 
 telvetro were re-echoed in every circle, and my works 
 became the subject of the conversation of the day. I 
 might he excused from mentioning, at this distance of 
 time, those verbal disputes, fleeting as the wind, which 
 were soon stifled by my successes ; but I am not dis- 
 pleased to have an opportunity of adverting to them 
 for the purpose of informing my readers of my mode 
 of thinking with respect to the rules of comedy, and 
 of the method I laid down in carrying them into exe- 
 cution. The unities requisite for the perfection of the- 
 atrical works have in all times been the subject of dis- 
 cussion among authors and amateurs. The censors of 
 my plays of character had nothing to reproach me 
 with in respect to the unity of action and of time; but 
 they maintained that in the unity of place I had been 
 deficient. The action of my comedies was always con- 
 fined to the same town; and tlîe characters never de- 
 parted from it. It is true, they went from one place to 
 another; but all these places were within the same 
 walls ; and I was then and am still of opinion, that in this 
 manner the unity of place was sufficiently observed. 
 
 In every art and every discovery experience has 
 always preceded precepts. In the course of time a 
 method has been assigned by writers to the practice of 
 the invention, but modern authors have always pos- 
 sessed the right of putting an interpretation on the 
 ancients. For my part, not finding, either in the poet- 
 ics of Aristotle or Horace, a clear and absolute precept 
 founded on reason for the rigorous unity of place, I 
 have always adhered to it when my subject seemed to 
 me susceptible of it ; but I could never induce myself 
 to sacrifice a good comedy for the sake of a prejudice
 
 262 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 which might have rendered it bad. The Italians would 
 never have been so rigidly disposed towards me, es- 
 pecially in the case of my first productions, had they 
 not been provoked by the injudicious zeal of my par- 
 tisans. They extolled my pieces greatly beyond their 
 merit, and well-informed people only condemned their 
 fanaticism. The disputes grew more and more warm 
 on the subject of my last piece. My champions main- 
 tained that the " Putta Onorata n was a faultless comedy, 
 and the rigoriste maintained that the protagonist was 
 injudiciously chosen. 1 ask pardon of my readers for 
 here making use of a Greek word, which ought to be 
 known, but which is very little used. It is not to be 
 found in any dictionary that I know of; but it has been 
 frequently used by celebrated authors of my country. 
 The term "protagonist" is employed by Castelvetro, 
 Crescimbeui, Gravina, Quadrio, Muratori, Maffei, Me- 
 tastasio, and many others, to signify the principal sub- 
 ject of the piece. The utility of this Greek word, which 
 comprises the meaning of six words in one, is evident ; 
 and I request permission to avail myself of it for the 
 purpose of avoiding the monotony of a phrase which 
 in the course of my work might at length become 
 wearisome. It was said that the character of the Pro- 
 tagonist was ill-chosen, because it was selected from 
 the class of vicious or ridiculous characters. " The Re- 
 spectable Girl," on the other hand, was virtuous and 
 interesting from her morals, her mildness, and her posi- 
 tion, and I had failed, it was said, in the object of my 
 comedy, which is, to hold vice up to abhorrence, and 
 to correct failings. My censors were in the right ; but 
 I was not in the wrong. 
 
 My object was to begin by flattering the country for 
 which I was employed, and the subject was new, agree-
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 263 
 
 al>lp. and national. T proposed a model to my specta- 
 tors for their imitation. If we succeed iu inspiring a 
 love of probity, is it not better to endeavor to gain 
 hearts by the charms of virtue than by the horror of 
 vice ? In speaking of virtue, I do uot mean an heroical 
 virtue, affecting from its distresses, and pathetic from 
 its diction. Those works which in French are called 
 dramas have certainly their merit ; they are a species 
 of theatrical representation between tragedy and comedy, 
 and an additional subject of entertainment for feeling 
 hearts. The misfortunes of the heroes of tragedy in- 
 terest us at a distance, but those of our equals are cal- 
 culated to affect us more closely. Comedy, which is 
 an imitation of nature, ought not to reject virtuous and 
 pathetic sentiments, if the essential object be observed 
 of enlivening it with those comic and prominent traits 
 which constitute the very foundation of its existence. 
 Far be it from me to indulge the foolish presumption 
 of setting up f »r a preceptor. I merely wish to impart 
 to my readers the little I have learned, and have my- 
 self done; and in the most contemptible books we 
 always find something deserving of attention. 
 
 The Venetian language, which I used in the comedy 
 of the " Putta Onorata," and in several other plays, is 
 undoubtedly the mildest and most agreeable of all the 
 dialects of Italy; its pronunciation is clear, delicate. 
 and easy, its words abundant and expressive, and its 
 phrases harmonious and ingenious : and as the char- 
 acter of the Venetian nation is distinguished for gayety, 
 their language is in the same manner distinguished for 
 lightness and pleasantry. 
 
 This does uot prevent the language from being sus- 
 ceptible of treating in an elevated manner the most 
 grave and interesting subjects. The advocates plead
 
 264 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in Venetian, and the harangues of the senators are de- 
 livered in the same idiom; hut without derogating 
 from the majesty of the throne or the dignity of the 
 bar, our orators possess a happy faculty of associating 
 the most agreeable and interesting graces with the 
 most sublime eloquence. 
 
 II. 
 
 Of all my pieces the " Yedova Scaltra" was the most 
 fortunate : hut it also underwent the most severe and 
 dangerous criticisms. My adversaries, or those of my 
 comedians, made an attempt which would have ruined 
 all of us, if I had not been courageous enough to step 
 forward in defence of the common cause. At the 
 third representation of the second season of this piece, 
 the play-bills of St. Samuel announced a new comedy, 
 called " The School fox Widows." I was told that it 
 was a parody of my piece, hut it was no such thing, it 
 was my widow herself, with the same plot and the 
 same incidents. Nothing was changed but the dia- 
 logue, which was filled with insulting invectives 
 against me and my comediaus. One actor uttered a 
 few phrases of my original, another added silly stuff. 
 Some of the bon-mots and pleasantries of my piece 
 were repeated, and a cry was set up in chorus of " Stu- 
 pid ! stupid ! " This work cost no trouble to the author, 
 who had merely followed my plan, and whose style 
 was not superior to my own : applause, however, burst 
 forth from every quarter, and the sarcasms and satiri- 
 cal traits were received with laughter, cries of bravo, 
 and reiterated clapping of hands. I was in my box, 
 covered with my mask. I kept silence, and called the 
 public ungrateful; but I was in the wrong; for this
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 265 
 
 inimical public was none of mine. Three fourths of 
 the spectators were composed of people who had an 
 interest in my ruin; for Medebac and myself had to 
 struggle against six other theatres in the same city. 
 Each of them had its several friends and adherents; 
 and those who were not interested were amused with 
 the scandal. 
 
 I instantly formed my resolution. I had resolved 
 to answer no criticisms ; but I might have been re- 
 proached with cowardice, had I not attempted to stop 
 the torrent which then threatened to overwhelm me. 
 I returned home, and gavç orders to my family to sup 
 and retire to bed, and leave me to myself. I imme- 
 diately shut myself up in my closet, and seized my 
 pen in dudgeon, which I did not quit till I imagined 
 myself avenged. I put my apology into action, and 
 composed a dialogue with three characters, under the 
 title of " Apologetic Prologue of the Cunning Widow."' 
 I did not dwell on the stupidity of the work of my 
 enemies. My first endeavor was to point out the dan- 
 gerous abuse of theatrical liberty, and the necessity 
 of a police to preserve decency in theatres. I had 
 remarked in this wicked parody certain expressions 
 which could not but shock the delicacy of the republic 
 with respect to strangers. The people of Venice, for 
 example, use the word " Panimbruo " by way of insult 
 to Protestants. It is a vague word, somewhat like that 
 of Huguenot in France ; and the g< >nd< ilier of my lord, 
 in " The School for Widows," thought proper to call 
 his master Panimbruo. The other strangers were not 
 treated with more ceremony ; and I was sure that my 
 observations could not fail to effect the object which I 
 had in view. After advocating the interest of civil 
 society, I defended my own cause, and set forth the in-
 
 2(315 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 justice which I had experienced. I opposed reason to 
 satire, and answered insults by decent reflections. On 
 the completion of my work. I did not present it to gov- 
 ernment. I avoided everything like the conflict of 
 jurisdictions and protections. I therefore sent my 
 pamphlet to the press, and addressed my complaints 
 to the public. I could not conceal my project, which 
 was known and dreaded, and every means was re- 
 sorted to to prevent its execution. 
 
 Medebae had a protector in the first order of the 
 nobility and in the first officers of state, who ought to 
 have favored me ; but he was afraid lest my temerity 
 should occasion my own ruin and that of his protege. 
 He did me the honor to visit me. and advised me at 
 first to withdraw my Prologue, but when he saw that 
 I was determined, he informed me that I ran the risk 
 of displeasing the supreme tribunal to which the police 
 of the state is intrusted. I was. however, firm in my 
 resolution and not to be shaken by anything ; and I 
 told his excellency very frankly, that my work was in 
 the press : that my printer was known : and that the 
 government might seize my manuscript if it thought 
 proper ; but that if this was attempted, I should in- 
 stantly set out to have it printed in another country. 
 This nobleman was astonished at my firmness. He 
 knew me ; he was kind enough to rely on me ; he took 
 me by the hand witli an air of confidence, and left me 
 to prosecute my wishes. The day following, my 
 pamphlet made its appearance. Three thousand copies 
 were thrown off. and I gave orders for their distribution 
 gratis at all the coffee-houses, theatres, and other places 
 of assembly, and to my friends, protectors, and acquaint- 
 ance. " The School for Widows" was instantly sup- 
 pressed, and, two days afterwards, an order was issued
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 267 
 
 by the government for the license of theatrical pro- 
 ductions. My •• Cunning Wid< w " was more applauded 
 and drew greater crowds than ever; our enemies were 
 humbled, and we redoubled our zeal and activity. If 
 my reader should be curious to know the author of 
 "The School for Widows," I cannot satisfy him. I 
 shall never name those whose intentions have been 
 directed to ruin me. 
 
 The termination of the carnival of 1749 was ap- 
 proaching. We went on admirably, and had the ad- 
 vantage over all the other theatres ; but, after the 
 battles which we had gained, something brilliant was 
 requisite to crown my year. The malice of my enemies 
 had given me too much occupation to allow me to 
 execute the project of a brilliant close, which I had 
 sketched. I found a comedy in my portfolio which by 
 no means satisfied me, and which I was therefore 
 unwilling to hazard. I should have wished the re- 
 mainder of the carnival filled up with old plays ; but 
 Medebac told me that, as we had only given two new 
 plays in the course of the year, and as the public which 
 seemed satisfied with the defence of " The Cunning 
 Widow " would not perhaps be equally disposed to 
 pardon us for our want of novelty, it would be abso- 
 lutely necessary to obviate this reproach by closing with 
 a new comedy. To these suggestions, winch were not 
 without foundation, I at once yielded. I gave ''The 
 Fortunate Heiress," a comedy in three acts, and in 
 prose. It fell, however, as I had foreseen ; and as the 
 publie easily forget those who have contributed to their 
 amusement, and never pardon those who have wearied 
 them, we were on the point of closing our theatre under 
 very unpleasant circumstances. 
 
 Another event of a much more disagreeable nature
 
 268 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and much more dangerous consequences happened to 
 disturb our repose at the some time. Darbes, who 
 was an excellent actor and one of the pillars of the 
 company, was demanded from the republic of Venice 
 by the Saxon minister for the service of the King of 
 Poland. He had to set out instantly, and quitted us 
 abruptly to prepare for his journey. Medebac's loss 
 was the greater, as we knew of no person capable of 
 supplying his place, and the boxes for the ensuing year 
 began to be thrown up. 
 
 Piqued at the ill-humor of the public, and presuming 
 something on my own worth, in the closing address 
 delivered by the principal actress, I promised, in very 
 indifferent verses, but very distinctly and positively, 
 that, next year, I would bring out sixteen new pieces. 
 When I entered into this engagement, I had not a 
 single subject in my head. However, there was no 
 alternative but keeping my word, or destruction. My 
 friends trembled for me, my enemies smiled ; I com- 
 forted the former, and laughed in my turn at the others. 
 You will see how I extricated myself. This was a 
 terrible year for me, and the remembrance of it still 
 makes my flesh creep. Sixteen comedies of three acts 
 each, and each act filling up, according to the custom 
 of Italy, two hours and a half of representation. But 
 what alarmed me the most was the difficulty of finding 
 an actor equal in point of ability and agreeable qualities 
 to the one we had lost. Every endeavor was used by 
 Medebac and myself to discover a suitable person on 
 the continent of Italy ; and at length we found out a 
 young man who played the character in which we were 
 deficient in strolling companies with applause. We 
 brought him to A'enice for trial. He acquitted himself 
 very well with his mask, and still better with his
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 209 
 
 countenance uncovered. His voice and figure were 
 good, and he sang delightfully. This was Antonio 
 Mattiuzzi, called Collalto, of the city of Vicenza. This 
 man. who had received a good education and was not 
 deficient in abilities, only knew the old comedies of 
 intrigue, and required to be instructed in the new kind 
 introduced by me. 
 
 I attached myself to him, and took him under my 
 care. He placed an implicit reliance on me. His 
 d< tcility pleased me more and more ; and I followed the 
 company to Bologna and Mantua, for the sate of com- 
 pleting the formation of my new actor, who had become 
 my friend. During the five' months which we passed 
 in these two cities of Lombardy I did not lose my time, 
 but continued laboring night and day, and we returned 
 towards the commencement of autumn to Venice, where 
 we were expected with great impatience. We opened 
 the theatre with a piece entitled " II Teatro Comico " 
 (The Comic Theatre). I had announced it as a comedy 
 in three acts, but in reality it was only apiece of poetry 
 thrown into action, and divided into three parts. It 
 was my intention, in composing this work, to place it 
 at the head of a new edition of my theatre ; but I was 
 pleased to have also an opportunity of instructing those 
 who are not fond of reading, and engaging them to 
 listen to maxims and corrections from the stage, which 
 w< mid have wearied them in a book. The piece finished 
 with applause. I have not time to mention the com- 
 pliments of my friends and the astonishment of my 
 enemies. My object at present is not to boast of my 
 projects, but to state the maimer in which they were 
 carried into execution. 
 
 A few days afterwards, we gave the first representa- 
 tion of the " Donne Pontigliose " ; or, " The Punctilious
 
 270 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Ladies." I composed this comedy during my residence 
 at Mantua, and it was acted in the theatre of that 
 t< >\vn by way of trial. It was received with great pleas- 
 ure, but I ran the risk of drawing on myself the indig- 
 nation of one of the first ladies of the country, who, a 
 short time before, had been in the situation of one of 
 the females of the piece. Every one fixed their eyes on 
 her box; but, fortunately for me, she possessed too 
 much good sense to give any furtherance to the malice 
 of the evil-disposed, and warmly applauded all the 
 passages which could bear an application to her. The 
 same thing happened afterwards t<> me at Floreuce and 
 Verona ; and in each of these cities it was believed that 
 
 I had taken the subject of my play from among them. 
 This is an evident proof that Nature is everywhere the 
 same, and that, if we consult her, we shall never fail 
 in our characters. This piece was not so fortunate at 
 Venice as elsewhere, and that for very good reasons. 
 The wives of the patricians are in a situation which 
 secures them from having their pre-eminence called in 
 questi< >n at home ; and they are unacquainted with the 
 punctilios of the provinces. 
 
 I had taken tins piece from the class of nobles, but 
 the following from the middle class. It was in Italian, 
 
 II La Bottega di Cafe" (The Coffee-House), and it had 
 a very brilliant success. The assemblage and contrast 
 of the characters could not fail to please. That of the 
 backbiter was placed to several well-known individuals. 
 One of them vowed vengeance agaiust me, and I was 
 threatened with swords, knives, and pistols ; but, curi- 
 ous perhaps to see sixteen new plays in one year, they 
 gave me time to finish them. At a time when I was 
 looking out for subjects of comedy everywhere, I recol- 
 lected having seen the " Liar " of Corneille, translated
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 271 
 
 into Italian, represented at Florence in a private thea- 
 tre; and as a piece which we have seen acted is more 
 easily retained, I remembered very distinctly those 
 places with which I had been the most struck. I recol- 
 lect having said, when I saw it, "This is a good com- 
 edy, hut the character of the Liar is susceptible of a 
 much crreater degree of comic humor." As I had not 
 much time to hesitate respecting the choice of my sub- 
 jects, I fixed on this; and my imagination, which was 
 then very quick and ready, instantly furnished me with 
 such an abundance of matter for comedy, that I was 
 tempted to create a new u Liar." But I rejected my 
 project. To Corneille I was indebted for the first idea, 
 and I respected my master, and considered it an honor 
 to work after him; adding, however, what seemed 
 necessary for the taste of my nation and for the success 
 of my piece, which had all the applause I could possi- 
 bly desire. The subject of a liar, which was less vi- 
 cious than comic, suggested another to me of a more 
 wicked and dangerous nature ; I mean the flatterer. 
 Rousseau's was unsuccessful in France, but mine was 
 very well received in Italy ; for this reason : the French 
 poet treated the subject more as a philosopher than a 
 eomic author; whereas I endeavored, in inspiring hor- 
 ror for the vice, to enliven at the same time the piece 
 by comic episodes and prominent traits. 
 
 The following comedy is altogether different in kind 
 from the preceding; for it is taken from among the 
 class of the ridiculous, — an alternation which is not 
 without its use in the production of several works. 
 The " Famiglia del l'Antiquario " (The Antiquary's 
 House) was the sixth of the sixteen projected plays. 
 I called it at first merely " The Antiquary" from the pro- 
 tagonist; but, fearful lest the disputes between his wife
 
 272 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and daughter-in-law should produce a double interest, 
 I gave a title to the comedy which embraced the whole 
 at once, especially as the failings of the two wives and 
 that of the head of the family set off one another, and 
 contributed equally to the humor and the morality of 
 the work'. The word " antiquarian 77 is equally applied 
 in Italy to those who devote their learning to the study 
 of antiquity, and those who pick up, without knowl- 
 edge, copies for originals and trifles for precious monu- 
 ments. I took my subject from among the latter. 
 
 III. 
 
 For some time the novel of " Pamela" had been the 
 delight of the Italians, and my friends urged me strongly 
 to turn it into a comedy. I was acquainted with the 
 work, and felt no difficulty in seizing the spirit of it, 
 and approximating the objects ; but the moral aim 
 of the English author was not reconcilable with the 
 manners and laws of my country. A nobleman in 
 London does not derogate from his nobility in marrying 
 a peasant : but at Venice a patrician who should marry 
 a plebeian would deprive his children of the patrician 
 nobility, and they would lose their right to the sover- 
 eignty. Comedy, which is, or ought to be, a school 
 for propriety, should only expose human weaknesses 
 for the sake of correcting them: and it would be un- 
 justifiable to hazard the sacrifice of an unfortunate 
 posterity under the pretext of recompensing virtue. I 
 renounced, therefore, the charm of this novel, but ne- 
 cessitated as I then was to multiply my subjects, and 
 surrounded both at Mantua and Venice by persons 
 who instigated me to labor upon it, I willingly con- 
 sented. I did not, however, begin the work till I had in-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 273 
 
 vented a denouement which, instead of being dangerous, 
 might serve as a model to virtuous lovers, and render 
 the catastrophe both more agreeable and more interest- 
 ing. The comedy of " Pamela " is a drama, according 
 to the French definition ; Hut the public found it inter- 
 esting and amusing, and of all my works yet given, it 
 was the most successful. 
 
 After a sentimental piece, I gave one founded on the 
 usages of civil society, under the title of "Il Cavalière 
 di bnon gusto, 77 which might be translated in French, 
 "L'Homme de Gout 77 (The Man of Taste). This 
 title, it is true, would in France announce a person ac- 
 quainted with the sciences and fine arts ; whereas the 
 Italian of good taste, whom I paint in my piece, is a 
 man who, with a moderate fortune, contrives to pos- 
 sess a charming house, select servants, an excellent 
 cook, and shines in society as an affluent individual, 
 without injuring any one or deranging his affairs. 
 There are curious individuals in the piece anxious to 
 conjecture his secret, and slanderers who attack his 
 fame; and the latter are of the number of those who 
 frequent his table and profit by his generosity. This 
 piece succeeded tolerably well, but it was its misfor- 
 tune to follow " Pamela, 77 which had turned everybody's 
 head. It was more fortunate when resumed the fal- 
 lowing- year. The same thing happened to ''The 
 Gamester, 77 which was the ninth comedy of my en- 
 gagement ; but as it did not rise again like the other, 
 I myself coincided with the public in regarding it as a 
 piece condemned without remedy. 
 
 In the comedy of " The Coffee-House," the third 
 piece of this year, I had very happily introduced a 
 gamester, and the character was acted by our new 
 pantaloon, without a ina.ik, in a very agreeable and
 
 274 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 interesting manner. Believing that I had not then 
 said enough on the subject of this unfortunate passion, 
 I proposed to treat the matter mure thoroughly; but 
 the episodical gamester of "The Coffee- House " had 
 the advantage of the one which was the principal sub- 
 ject of the piece. I may be allowed also to add that 
 all sorts of games of hazard were then tolerated at 
 Venice ; and that the famous Eidotto, which enriched 
 some and ruined others, but which drew gamesters 
 from the four quarters of the world, and threw money 
 into circulation, was then also in existence. It was 
 unadvised in me, therefore, to lay open the consequen- 
 ces of this (langerons amusement, and still more the 
 tricks of certain gamblers, and the artifices of the bro- 
 kers ; and in a city of two hundred thousand souls, my 
 piece could not fail to have a number of enemies. 
 The republic of Venice has since prohibited games of 
 hazard and suppressed the Eidotto. This suppression 
 may be complained of by certain individuals ; but to 
 prove the wisdom of this measure, it is only necessary 
 to state that those very members of the grand council 
 who are fond of gaming gave their voices in favor of 
 the new law. 1 do not state this with a view to excuse 
 the failure of my piece by arguments foreign to the sub- 
 ject. It fell, and consequently it was bad ; and it is 
 no small matter for me that of sixteen comedies, it was 
 the only one which failed. The public called (tut for 
 "Pamela " : but I refused to gratify the wish. I was 
 jealous of fulfilling my engagement, and I had still 
 seven new pieces to give. 
 
 After the failure of my last piece it was said that 
 Goldoui's fire was exhausted : that he began to decline; 
 that he would end badly, and that his pride would be 
 humbled. This last expression alone gave me any
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 275 
 
 displeasure. I might be accused of imprudence in 
 having contracted an engagement which might cost me 
 the loss of my health, or that of my reputation ; hut as to 
 pride, I never possessed any, or at least, I could never 
 perceive it. I treated this libel with contempt; but I 
 was more and more convinced of the necessity of re- 
 establishing the interest, gayety, instruction, and the 
 old credit of my theatre. All these views were fulfilled 
 in the comedy of " The True Friend," which was an- 
 nounced at the opening of the carnival. I derived the 
 plot from an historical anecdote, and I treated it with 
 all the delicacy the subject demanded. This is one of 
 my favorite plays ; and I had the pleasure of seeing 
 the public of the same opinion with myself: and in- 
 deed I was astonished that I could bestow the necessary 
 time and care on it in so laborious a year for me. But 
 the "Finta Ammalata " (The Feigned Invalid), by 
 which it was followed, cost me no less trouble, and was 
 attended with equal success. 
 
 Madame Medebac, who furnished me with the sub- 
 ject of it, was an excellent actress, strongly attached to 
 her profession, but she was subject to fits of ennui : 
 she was often ill, often imagined herself so, and some- 
 times nothing ailed her but her fits, which she had at 
 her command. In this last case we had only to pr< >- 
 pose giving a fine character to a subaltern actress, and 
 she recovered instantly. I took the liberty of drawing 
 Madame Medebac herself; she partly saw it, but as 
 she found the part charming, she accepted it, and rep- 
 resented it admirably. Notwithstanding the sim- 
 plicity of the subject, this piece was generally well re- 
 ceived, and extremely applauded. Perhaps it owed its 
 success to the actress, who took a pleasure in playing 
 her own character, and exhibited it without the smallest
 
 276 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 effort or constraint. The physicians of different charac- 
 ters, and a deaf quidnunc of an apothecary, who mistook 
 
 everything that was said to him, and preferred the 
 reading of gazettes to that of prescriptions, contributed 
 no less to the success. 
 
 After the comedy of " Pamela," and more especially 
 during the equivocal success of " The Man of Taste," 
 and the failure of " The Gamester," my friends abso- 
 lutely iusisted that I should give another play borrowed 
 from some novel, that I might, as they said, spare my- 
 self the trouble of invention. Wearied with their so- 
 licitations, I at last told them that, instead of reading 
 a novel for the sake of composing a play, I should pre- 
 fer composing a piece from which a novel might be made. 
 Some began to laugh, and others took me at my word. 
 " Give us, then," said they, "a novel in action; a piece 
 as full of plot as a novel." " I will do so." " In ear- 
 nest ?" " Yes, in earnest." "On your honor? " " On 
 my honor." 
 
 I returned home, and, warm with my promise, I be- 
 gan the play and the novel at the same time, without 
 having the subject of either the one or the other. " I 
 must," said I to myself, " have a great deal of intrigue ; 
 I must surprise and astonish, and at the same time ex- 
 cite an interest ; I must have the comic combined with 
 the pathetic. A heroine would excite a stronger inter- 
 est than a hero; but where shall I seek her? We shall 
 see : but in the mean time let us adopt an unknown 
 lady for protagonist": and I immediately wrote down 
 on my paper, u LTncognita, a comedy; act first, scene 
 first." " This woman should have a name, let us give 
 her that of Rosaura ; but is she to make her appearance 
 alone, to give the first account of the argument of the 
 play ! No, that is the fault of the ancient comedies ;
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 277 
 
 we must make her enter with — yes, with Florindo 
 — Rosaura and Florindo." Id this way I began "The 
 Incognita," and continued it in the same manner, con- 
 structing a vast edifice without knowing whether it 
 would turn out a temple or an exchange. Each scene 
 produced another: one event gave birth to four; and 
 at the end of the first act the picture was sketched, and 
 required nothing but to be filled up. I was myself as- 
 tonished at the quantity and novelty of the anecdotes 
 with which my imagination supplied me. 
 
 At the end of the second act I began to think of the 
 denouement, and to prepare something which, while it 
 was unexpected, should not appear to tall from the 
 clouds. My friends were satisfied, and so were the 
 public; and everybody owned that my piece might 
 have furnished sufficient materials for a novel of four 
 large volumes, octavo. 
 
 But it became necessary to leave these sentimental 
 pieces, and return to character and true comedy ; and 
 more particularly as the end of the carnival was ap- 
 proaching, and the theatre required to be enlivened and 
 brought to the level of everybody. " La Donna Volu- 
 bile" (The Capricious Lady) was the last but one of the 
 season. We had an actress in the company, the most 
 capricious woman in the world, whom I merely copied ; 
 and Madame Medebac, who knew the original, was not 
 sorry, with all her goodness, to have an opportunity 
 of laughing a little at her companion. This character 
 is in itself comical, but, if not supported by interesting 
 and agreeable situati< >ns, extremely apt to become weari- 
 some. We may ridicule changes in dress and enter- 
 tainments, but to render a changeable woman a subject 
 of comedy, the ridicule must arise from the caprice of 
 her mind. A woman who is in love one moment, and
 
 278 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 no longer so the next, who utters maxims, and who is 
 inflamed with a passion quite the reverse of her first 
 way of thinking, forms a proper subject for comedy. 
 The winding-up of this piece is suitable to the folly 
 which is proposed to be corrected. Rosaura decides 
 at length for marriage, but everybody shuns her and 
 refuses to have her. Madame Medebae played the 
 character admirably. Her natural mildness was ex- 
 cellently adapted to the silliness of the Capricious 
 Woman, and the piece produced all the effect which I 
 could desire. 
 
 I had but another comedy to give to conclude the 
 year, and fulfil my engagement. We were at the last 
 Sunday of the carnival but one, and I had not written 
 a line of this last piece, nor even imagined the subject 
 of it. I sallied out of my house that day, and, by way 
 of recreation, repaired to the square of St. Mark. I 
 looked round to see if any of the masks or jugglers 
 might furnish me with the subject of a comedy, or some 
 sort of spectacle for Shrovetide. I observed under the 
 arcade of the clock a man with whom I was instantly 
 struck, and who furnished me the subject I was in quest 
 of. This was an old Armenian, ill-dressed, very dirty, 
 and with a long beard, who ran about the streets of 
 Venice, selling tire dried fruits of his country, which he 
 called abagigi. This man, who was to be found every- 
 where, and whom I had myself so frequently met, was 
 so well known and so much despised, that when any 
 one wished to laugh at a girl desirous of a husband, he 
 proposed to her Abagigi in derision. This was enough 
 to send me home satisfied. On entering my house, I 
 shut myself up in my closet, and began a low comedy, 
 which I called " I Pettigolezzi " (The G< >ssips). Under 
 this title it has been translated into French by M. Ric-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 279 
 
 coboni the younger, and represented at the Italian the- 
 atre in Paris. The translator very properly changed 
 the character of Abagigi, which was unknown in 
 France, into that of a Jew dealer in spectacles; but 
 
 neither the French Jew nor the Italian Armenian is 
 the protagonist ; and they are only serviceable in carry- 
 ing forward the plot of the piece, which succeeded in 
 both languages. I could only give it on Shrove Tues- 
 day for the first time, and with it we closed the carnival. 
 The concourse was so extraordinary that day that the 
 price of boxes was tripled and quadrupled, and the ap- 
 plause was so tumultuous that the passengers were in 
 doubt whether they were the expression of satisfaction 
 or a general disapprobation. I was seated very tran- 
 quilly in my box, surrounded by my friends, who wept 
 for joy. A crowd of people came in quest of me, obliged 
 me to leave the place, dragged and carried me in spite 
 of all my endeavors to the Ridotto, exhibited me from 
 one hall to another, and lavished a profusion of com- 
 pliments on me, which I should willingly have escaped 
 if possible. I was too much fatigued to support such 
 a ceremony; besides, as I was ignorant of the origin 
 of this enthusiasm of the moment, I was displeased to 
 think that this piece should be preferred to so many 
 others of which I was more fond. But I soon discerned 
 the true motive of this general acclamation. It was 
 the triumph of the fulfilment of my engagement. 
 
 IV. 
 
 At the age of forty-three I had a great facility 
 both in invention and execution, but still I M'as a man 
 subject to infirmities like others. The assiduity of my 
 labors at length undermined my health, and I fell sick,
 
 280 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and paid the penalty of my folly. I was always sub- 
 ject to tits of spleen, which attacked body and mind at 
 once ; but I felt a renewal of them at this time with 
 more violence than ever. I was literally worn out 
 with fatigue, but still my wretched state was, in a 
 great measure, occasioned by the chagrin which I felt. 
 I must conceal nothing from my readers. 
 
 I had given sixteen pieces in the course of a year. 
 The director, it is true, did not demand them ; but 
 still he profited by them. What benefit had I de- 
 rived ? Not a farthing beyond the annual stipulation, 
 not the smallest gratification. I received abundance 
 of praise, and a profusion of compliments, but not the 
 most trifling acknowledgment. I was displeased at 
 this, but I said nothing. However, we cannot live on 
 glory alone ; and I had no other resource but an edition 
 of my works. Who would suppose that in this I should 
 meet with opposition from Medebac, and that some of 
 his protectors should approve of the opposition ? This 
 man disputed my right of authorship under the pretext 
 of having purchased my works. Of the period of our 
 engagement there was still some time to run ; I could 
 not, or rather I was unwilling, to enter into a litiga- 
 tion with persons whom I should have occasion to see 
 every day : I was too great a lover of peace to sacrifice 
 it to interest ; and I yielded my pretensions, and was 
 satisfied with the permission of printing every year a 
 single volume of my comedies. From this singular 
 permission I discovered that Medebac counted upon 
 my remaining attached to him during my whole life ; 
 but I waited the expiration of my fifth year to take 
 my leave of him. I gave the manuscripts of four of 
 my pieces to Antonio Bettinelli, the bookseller, who 
 undertook the first edition of my " Theatre," and pub- 
 lished the first volume at Venice in 1751.
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 281 
 
 Our company were to pass the spring and summer 
 at Turin. I thought that a change of air and the 
 pleasure of the journey might contribute to the restora- 
 tion of my health. I followed the company at my own 
 expense; and, in the intention of visiting Genoa, I 
 took my dear companion along with me. I was unac- 
 quainted with Turin, which I found a delightful place. 
 The uniformity of the buildings in the principal streets 
 produces a charming effect. The scpuares and churches 
 are exceedingly beautiful ; the citadel is a superb 
 promenade ; and the royal residences, both in town and 
 country, display great magnificence and taste. The 
 inhabitants of Turin are very kind and polite: they 
 have much of the manners and customs of the French, 
 and speak the language familiarly ; and on the arrh al 
 of a Milanese, a Venetian, or a Genoese, they are in 
 the habit of saying, "He is an Italian." 
 
 My pieces were represented at Turin with applause, 
 to crowded audiences ; but there were a set of singular 
 beings, who, at every one of my productions, observed, 
 " This is good, but it is not Molière." This was doing 
 me more honor than I deserved, for it had never en- 
 tered into my head to compare myself with the French 
 author. I knew that those who pronounced this vague 
 and ridiculous judgment, merely went to the theatre 
 for the sake of making the circuit of the boxes, and 
 indulging in conversation. I was acquainted with 
 Molière, and respected this master of the art as highly 
 as the Piedinontese, and I was seized instantly with a 
 desire to give them a convincing proof of it. I im- 
 mediately composed a comedy in five acts, and in verse, 
 without masks or change of scene, of which the title 
 and principal subject were Molière himself. The argu- 
 ment was taken from two anecdotes of his private life :
 
 282 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the one, his projected marriage with Isabelle, the 
 daughter of Bejard ; and the other, the prohibition of 
 his " Tartuffe." These two historical facts accord so 
 well together that the unity of action is perfectly ob- 
 served. The impostors of Paris, alarmed at the comedy 
 of " Molière," knew that the author had sent to the 
 camp, where Louis XIV. then was, to obtain permis- 
 sion for its representation, and they were afraid lest the 
 revocation of the prohibition should be obtained. I 
 employed in my piece a person of the name of Pirlon, 
 a hypocrite in every sense of the word, who introduces 
 himself into the authors house, discovers to La Bejard 
 Molière's love for her daughter, of which she was yet 
 ignorant, engages her to quit her companion and 
 director; behaves in the same manner to Isabelle, 
 holding up to her the situation of an actress as the road 
 to perdition, and endeavors to deceive La Foret, their 
 waiting- woman, who, more adroit than her mistresses, 
 dupes the duper, inspires him with a love for her, and 
 takes his cloak and hat from him to give to Molière, 
 who appears on the stage with the dress of the impos- 
 tor. I was bold enough to exhibit in my piece a much 
 more marked hypocrite than that of Molière; but hypo- 
 crites had then lost a great deal of their ancient credit 
 in Italy. During the interval between the fourth and 
 last acts of my comedy, the " Tartuffe n of Molière is 
 acted on the theatre of the Hôtel de Bourgogne ; all 
 the characters of my piece make their appearance in 
 the fifth act. for the purpose of complimenting Molière: 
 Pirlon, concealed in a closet, where lie was expecting 
 La Foret, is forced to come forth in the presence of all 
 th«- spectators, ami is assailed with the sarcasms which 
 In- bo richly deserved; and Molière, to add to his joy 
 and happiness, marries Isabelle, in spite of the mother, 
 who aspired to the conquest of her future son-in-law.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 283 
 
 In this piece are to be found several details of the 
 life of Molière. The character of Valerio is Baron, an 
 actor of Molière's company. Leander is a copy of La 
 Chapelle, a friend of the author, and often mentioned 
 in the account of his life ; and Count Lasca is one of 
 the Piedmontese who judged of pieces without seeing 
 them, and instituted an awkward comparison between 
 the Venetian and French authors, that is to say, be- 
 tween the scholar and the master. This work is in 
 verse : I had composed tragi-comedies in blank verse, 
 but this is the first comedy which I composed in rhyme. 
 As its subject was a French author, who wrote largely 
 in that style, it became necessary to imitate him; and 
 I found nothing that approached the Alexandrines but 
 the Martellian verses, of which I have already spoken 
 in the first part of these memoirs. On the conclusion 
 of my piece, and the distribution of the parts, I wit- 
 nessed two rehearsals at Turin, and set out for Genoa 
 without seeing it acted. The actors, and a few of the 
 townspeople, were let into the secret of the character 
 of Count Lasca. I charged them to acquaint me with 
 the result ; and I learned, a few days afterwards, that 
 the piece had the greatest success ; that the original of 
 the criticism was discovered, and that he had been 
 candid enough to avow that it was deserved. 
 
 I remained the whole summer at Genoa, leading a 
 most delicious and completely idle life. How delight- 
 ful it is, especially after much severe labor, to pass a 
 few days without doing anything! But the autumn 
 was fast approaching ; the season began to grow more 
 cool, and I resumed the road to my workshop. 
 
 On arriving at Venice, I found my first volume in 
 print, and money in the hands of my bookseller. I 
 received at the same time a gold watch, a box of the
 
 28-4 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 same metal, a silver board with chocolate, and four 
 pair of Venice ruffles. These were presents from 
 those to win. m I had dedicated my four iirst comedies. 
 Medebac arrived a few days after me, and spoke highly 
 of the pleasure which "Molière" gave at Turin. I 
 had a strong desire to see it myself; and we brought 
 it out at Venice in the month of October, 175] . This 
 piece contained two novelties, the subject and the 
 versification; for the Martellian verses were at that 
 time forgotten. The monotony of the csesural panse, 
 the great frequency of the rhyme, and the perpetual 
 recurrence of couplets, disgusted the ears of the Italians 
 during the lifetime of the inventor, and every person 
 was prejudiced against me for pretending to revive 
 a mode of versification already proscribed. But the 
 effect gave the lie to this anticipation ; my verses were 
 equally well relished with the piece, and "Molière" 
 was classed by the public voice along with u Pamela." 
 Were I permitted to pronounce my own opinion of the 
 relative worth of my comedies, I should have a great 
 deal to say in favor of the ll Padre di Famiglia" (Fa- 
 ther of a Family) ; but, taking the decision of the 
 public respecting my works for my guide, I am forced 
 to rank it only in the second class of my comedies. I 
 bestowed all the care which my observation and my 
 zeal inspired me with on this interesting subject; and 
 I was even tempted to call my piece the " School for 
 Fathers " ; but great masters have alone a right to 
 give Schools; and I might possibly be deceived as 
 well as the author of the u School for Widows." I 
 had seen in the world indulgent mothers, unjust step- 
 mothers, spoiled children, and dangerous preceptors ; 
 I grouped all these different objects in a single picture, 
 and in the conduct of a wise and prudent father, I
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 285 
 
 exhibited a strong instance of the proper punishment 
 of vice and the example of virtue. In this comedy 
 there is another father, by way of episode, who con- 
 tributes to the development and winding-up of the 
 plot This father has two daughters j the one brought 
 up at home, and the other educated at an aunt's, by 
 which a convent is meant, as this word dare not, in 
 Italy, be pronounced on the stage. The first turns 
 • nit well, but the other has every possible defect con- 
 cealed under the mask of hypocrisy. My intention 
 was to give the preference to a domestic education ; 
 and this was perfectly understood by the public, and 
 met with their approbation To this moral and criti- 
 cal piece an interesting and virtuous subject suc- 
 ceeded, which was infinitely relished, and which the 
 public placed in the first class of my productions : this 
 was " The Venetian Advocate." 
 
 In my comedy of " The Prudent Man " I had given 
 a specimen of my old profession of criminal advocate 
 in Tuscany ; in the present I wished to recall to the 
 recollection of my countrymen that I had also been a 
 civil practitioner at the bar of Venice. This piece 
 gave universal satisfaction; and my brethren, accus- 
 tomed to see the gown ridiculed in the old comedies 
 of intrigue, were pleased with the honorable point of 
 view in which I now exhibited it. Still, however, 
 the intention of the author and the effect of the work 
 were called in question by the evil-disposed. One 
 person, in particular, exclaimed that my piece was an 
 attack on the bar ; that my protagonist was an imagi- 
 nary being, whom no person living could imitate ; and 
 that I had exhibited an incorruptible advocate, by way 
 of drawing the public attention to the weakness and 
 avi lity of so many others. He even mentioned the
 
 286 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 most respectable names at the bar, in point of talents, 
 as those wh< >se probity was the most to be suspected. 
 It will scarcely be believed that the author of the 
 criticism belonged himself to this respectable body ; the 
 fact, however, is but too true ; and this audacious man 
 had even the impudence to make a boast of it : he was 
 punished by universal contempt, and obliged to change 
 his profession. 
 
 Let us pass from one fortunate piece to another 
 which was not less fortunate, "II Feudatario" (The 
 Feudatary) • the principal subject of which is a pre- 
 sumptive heiress of a fief fallen into the hands of 
 strangers. The differences between the lady and the 
 possessor of the estate in question are arranged by a 
 marriage between these two persons; but the piece 
 contains incidents of a very interesting nature, and it 
 is enlivened by characters and scenes of a comical, 
 new, and original description. I derived this provision 
 of ridicule from a residence, some years before, at 
 Sanguinetto, a fief of Count Leoni, in the Veronese, 
 when I was there employed by that nobleman in draw- 
 ing up a legal report. I know not whether this comedy 
 is equal in point of merit to the " Padre di Famiglia"; 
 but its success was greater, and I am therefore bound 
 to respect the opinion of my judges. 
 
 The same fortune also befell the u Figlia Obbedi- 
 ente "' (Obedient Daughter) : inferior also in my opinion 
 to the " Padre di Famiglia," but which was equally 
 successful with the foregoing comedy. On inquiring 
 into the cause of this phenomenon, I am led to impute 
 it to the pleasure received from the comic scenes with 
 which the two last plays abound, whereas the princi- 
 pal merit of the other is of a critical and moral nature. 
 This is a proof that in general we prefer amusement to
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 287 
 
 instruction. In this last comedy the principal subject 
 is far from being very interesting, for it is destitute of 
 suspension, as the winding-up of the plot is foreseen 
 at the commencement of the action. It owed its fortune 
 entirely to the original and very comic episodes with 
 which it abounded. Rosaura, the heroine of the play, 
 sacrifices her love to her respect f >r her father, who 
 docs not condemn the inclination of his daughter; but 
 in the absence of her lover he engages her to a rich 
 stranger, and he is the slave of his word. The person 
 to whom Rosaura is destined by her father is of so 
 singular a character that it would have been thought 
 improbable and unnatural if the original had not been 
 recognized. In his extravagance there is nothing to 
 detract either from his morals or his probity : he is 
 even noble, just, and generous ; but his manners, his 
 monosyllabic conversation, his injudicious prodigality, 
 his whimsical though sensible reflections, rendered him 
 highly comic, and the subject of general conversation. 
 How could I lose sight of such an original ? I brought 
 him forward, but with every regard to decency, and 
 those who knew him and were even attached to him 
 could not complain of me. Another personage, not 
 so noble, but not less comic, contributed to increase 
 the amusement of the comedy. This was the father 
 of a dancer, proud of the wealth of his daughter, 
 derived, as he said, from her talents, without dero- 
 gating from her virtue. When sick at Bologna, I 
 was visited in my convalescence by this man, who 
 never ceased speaking to me of princes, kings, and the 
 like, and of the excessive delicacy of his daughter. I 
 returned his visit as soon as I was able to go out. 
 His daughter was not at home ; but he showed me her 
 plate. " Observe," said he, "all these silver dishes;
 
 288 MEMOIBS OF 
 
 everything is silver with us, even the very warming- 
 pan is silver." Could I forget the father satisfied, 
 the daughter happy ; and virtue recompensed ? This 
 episode is very well connected in the piece with that 
 of the extraordinary man, and both contributed to the 
 success of the obedient daughter, who manies her 
 lover with the approbation of her father. The piece 
 was applauded, and with it we closed the autumn 
 of 1/51. 
 
 V. 
 
 During the Christinas holidays, an adventure took 
 place extremely fortunate for Medebac, and agreeable 
 for myself. Marliani, the Brighella of the company, 
 was married; and his wife, who, like himself, had 
 been a rope-dancer, was a very pretty and amiable 
 young Venetian, full of wit and talents, and with the 
 happiest disposition for the stage. I took her under 
 my care, and composed a piece for her début. Madame 
 Medebac supplied me with interesting and affecting 
 ideas when I wished for comic scenes of a simple and 
 iunocent description ; and Madame Marliani, who was 
 lively, witty, and naturally artful, gave a new flight to 
 my imagination, and encouraged me to labor in that 
 species of comedy which requires a display of finesse 
 and artifice. 
 
 I began with the " Serva Amorosa," or " The Gen- 
 erous Waiting- Maid " ; for the adjective amoroso-a, in 
 Italian, is applied to friendship as well as love. This 
 piece met with the most complete success, and Cora- 
 liua was very much applauded in it ; but she became 
 all at once, from this circumstance, a formidable rival 
 for Madame Medebac. The wife of the director was 
 entitled to some consolation ; and it was our duty, be-
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 289 
 
 sides, to encourage and flatter the actress who for three 
 years had been the principal support of our theatre. I 
 gave out, therefore, immediately, a comedy expressly 
 written for her, called "La Moglie Saggia" (The Sen- 
 sible Wife). The piece was universally and con- 
 stantly applauded, and the directress was immediately 
 cured of her jeal >us frenzy. 
 
 I still felt at that time, and have ever since con- 
 tinued to feel, the consequences of the excessive fatigue 
 I sustained in composing my sixteen comedies. I re- 
 quired a change of air, and I went to join my comedians 
 at Bologna. On my arriva] in this town I entered a 
 coffee-house facing the church of St. Petronius. No 
 one knew who I was. A few minutes after my en- 
 trance, a nobleman of that country came in, and 
 addressing himself to five or six persons of his ac- 
 quaintance, seated round a table, he said to them in 
 good Bolognese, "Have you heard the news, un- 
 friends ? " He was asked what he alluded to, and he 
 answered, " Goldoui has just arrived." " That is of no 
 consequence to me," said one. " What is that to us? " 
 said another. The third answered more politely, "I 
 should be very glad to see him.'' "A fine object to see, 
 truly ! " said the two former. " He is the author of 
 those beautiful comedies,"' said the other. Here he 
 was interrupted by the man who had not yet spoken, 
 and who exclaimed aloud, " yes, the great author! 
 the magnificent author, who has suppressed masks and 
 ruined comedy ! '' At that moment Doctor Fiume 
 arrived, who said, while he embraced me, ' ; Welcome, 
 my dear Goldoni." The person who had expressed a 
 desire to know me advanced towards me, and the 
 others stole out one by one without saying a word. 
 I was highly amused with this little scene. I was
 
 290 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 glad to see the doctor, who some years before had 
 been my physician, and I made the best return I could 
 to the polite Bolognese, who had expressed so good an 
 opinion of me. We all went out together to call on 
 the Marquis d'Albergati Capacelli, a senator of Bo- 
 logna. 
 
 This nobleman, well known in the republic of let- 
 ters, from his translations of several French tragedies, 
 from several good comedies of his own composition, 
 and still more from the high opinion entertained of 
 him by Voltaire, independently of his science and his 
 genius, possessed an admirable talent for theatrical 
 declamation. There were no actors or amateurs then 
 in Italy who equalled him in representing tragedy 
 heroes, or lovers iu comedy. His country, whose de- 
 light he was. had the pleasure of enjoying his talents 
 sometimes at Zola and sometimes at Medicina, his es- 
 tates : where he was seconded by male and female 
 amateurs, whom he animated by his intelligence aud 
 experience. I was fortunate enough to contribute to 
 his pleasure, having composed five pieces for his 
 theatre, of which I shall give some account at the end 
 of this second part. M. d' Albergati always showed 
 great kindness and friendship for me. I made his 
 honse my home whenever I went to Bologna, and, in 
 our present distance from each other, he has not for- 
 gotten me. having addressed one of his comedies to 
 me, preceded by a very charming epistle, with which I 
 have every reason to be highly flattered. 
 
 During my stay in Bologna I did not lose my time, 
 I labored for my theatre, and composed, among other 
 things, a comedy entitled "I Pontigli Domestici,'' (The 
 Domestic Disputes), with which we opened, at Venice, 
 the comic year 1752. I passed from an interesting
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 201 
 
 subject to one of a comic nature. I had seen a very 
 rich man with an only daughter, win» was young and 
 pretty, and who possessed a line talent f<>r poetry, to 
 whose marriage he would not give his consent, that he 
 might have the sole enjoyment of this charming muse. 
 He held literary assemblies in his house. Every one 
 went with pleasure for the sake of the daughter; but 
 the ridiculous behavior of the father was quite insuffer- 
 able. When the young lady recited her verses, this 
 infatuated man used to rise from his seat: he would 
 look about him to the right and left, and enjoin strict 
 silence. A sneeze discomposed him ; he was offended 
 if snuff were taken f and he exhibited such a variety of 
 gestures and contortions, that it was the most difficult 
 thing in the world to refrain from laughter. When the 
 verses of the daughter were finished the father was the 
 first to applaud them, and then he left the circle. 
 Without the smallest consideration for those poets who 
 were reciting their compositions, he went behind the 
 chairs of all present, expressing himself loudly, and 
 with the utmost indecorum, in such terms as these: 
 " Did you hear my daughter . ; What do you think of 
 her ? This is quite another thing ! " I was several 
 times present at scenes of this nature; but the last 
 which I witnessed took rather au unfortunate turn : for 
 the authors quarrelled in good earnest, and quitted the 
 place very abruptly. This foolish father determined i m 
 a journey to Rome, that his daughter might be crowned 
 in the capitol. He was prevented by the relations of 
 the family; and the government having at length in- 
 terfered in, the business, the lady was married in spite 
 of him; the consequence of which was. that fifteen 
 days afterwards he fell sick and died of chagrin. 
 
 On this anecdote I composed a comedy under the
 
 292 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 title of < k Il Poeta Fanatico" (The Fanatical Poet), in 
 which I was induced to give the father aise a taste of 
 some kind or other for poetry, for the sake of throwing 
 more gayety into the piece : this work, however, is by 
 no means equal to the " Metromanie " of Piron ; but, on 
 the contrary, one of my most indifferent comedies. It 
 met, however, with some suet-ess at Venice ; but this 
 was owing to the entertainment which I had thrown 
 into the principal subject. Collalto acted a young im- 
 provisatore, and in the delivery of his verses pleased 
 by the graces of his singing. The servant was also a 
 poet, and his compositions and burlesque impromptus 
 were very amusing; but a comedy without interest, 
 intrigue, or suspense, notwithstanding the beauties of 
 particular parts, is still, after all, a poor piece. Why 
 was it printed then ? Because the booksellers lay hold 
 of everything, without so much as consulting the au- 
 thors, even during their own lifetime. 
 
 On the arrival of the Christmas holidays of the year 
 1751, it became time to put Medebac in mind that the 
 end of our engagement was approaching, and to give 
 him notice not to rely on me for the following year. 
 I spoke to him in an amicable way, and without any 
 formality. He answered me very politely that he was 
 sorry for it, but that I was the master of my own in- 
 clinations. He did his utmost, however, to induce me 
 to remain with him, and even sent several of his friends 
 to speak to me on the subject ; but my resolution was 
 firmly fixed ; and during the ten days of relaxation I 
 entered into an agreement with his excellency Ven- 
 dramini, a noble Venetian, and proprietor of the the- 
 atre of St. Luke. 
 
 I had still to labor for the theatre of St. Angelo 
 till the close of 1752: and I discharged my duty so
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 293 
 
 well that I gave more pieces to the director than he 
 had time to act, and he had some remaining which he 
 used after our separation. Madame Medebac was still 
 unwell ; her ill-humors became every day more trouble- 
 some and ridiculous : she laughed and wept in the 
 same instant, and uttered cries and exhibited grim- 
 aces and contortions. The good people of the family 
 thought her bewitched, and sent for exorcists. She 
 was loaded with relics, and played with these pious 
 monuments like a child of four years of age. Seeing 
 the principal actress unable to appear on the stage, I 
 composed, at the opening of the carnival, a comedy for 
 Coralina. Madame Medebac made her appearance in 
 good health on Christmas Day ; but ou hearing that 
 " La Locandiera," a new piece, composed for Coralina, 
 was given out for the following day, she took to her 
 bed again with a new species of fits, which completely 
 exhausted the patience of her mother, husband, rela- 
 tions, and servants. We opened the theatre then on 
 the 26th of December with " La Locandiera," a word 
 derived from locanda, which has the same signification 
 in Italian as hôtel garni in French. There is no word, 
 however, in the French language to indicate the man 
 or woman who keeps one of those hotels ; and in 
 translating this piece into French it would be neces- 
 sary to take the title from the character, and call it 
 "The Dexterous Woman 7 ' (Femme Adroite). The 
 success of this piece was so brilliant that it was not 
 only placed on a level with, but even preferred to every- 
 thing which I had yet done in that species of comedy 
 where artifice supplies the place of interest. It would 
 perhaps be scarcely credited, without reading it, that 
 the projects, proceedings, and triumph of the heroine 
 of the piece could all take place, with probability, in
 
 294 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the space of twenty-four hours. I was perhaps flat- 
 tered in Italy ; but I was told that it was the most 
 natural and best conducted of all my pieces, and that 
 the action was completely supported and perfect in 
 every respect. 
 
 From the jealousy with which Madame Medebac 
 viewed the progress of Coralina, this last piece, one 
 might have thought, would have killed her outright ; 
 but as her disorder was quite singular in its kind, she 
 quitted her bed in two days and demanded the repre- 
 sentation of the " Locandiera" to be stopped for the 
 purpose of again giving out " Pamela." The public 
 was not highly satisfied with this ; but the director did 
 not think proper to oppose the desire of his wife, and 
 "Pamela" appeared again on the theatre after the 
 fourth representation of a fortunate and new comedy. 
 These little pieces of kindness will every now and then 
 take place where despotism disdains to yield to reason. 
 For my part I had nothing to say in the business ; the 
 dispute related to two of my daughters, and I was a 
 tender father to both the one and the other. 
 
 VI. 
 
 I passed from the theatre of St. Angelo to that 
 of St. Luke, where there was no director, but where 
 the actors shared the receipts ; and the proprietor of 
 the house, who enjoyed the benefit of the boxes, paid 
 their salaries in proportion to their merits, or the 
 length of their services. This patrician was the per- 
 son with whom I had to act. I gave him my pieces, 
 which were instantly paid for, before even being read. 
 My emoluments were almost doubled ; I enjoyed the 
 full liberty of printing my works, and I was not
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 295 
 
 obliged to follow the company to the continent. My 
 situation was therefore become much more lucrative, 
 and at the same time infinitely more honorable. 
 
 But what is there in this world without its disad- 
 vantages ! The principal actress of the company was 
 almost fifty. They had lately received a charming 
 Florentine, but for second parts only; and I ran the 
 risk of being obliged to give subordinate characters to 
 this young woman, and those of lovers to the old 
 actress. Madame Gandini, the first actress, had the 
 good sense to do herself justice ; but her husband 
 declared, in high terms, that he would not allow his 
 wife to sustain the slightest injury; and the proprietor 
 of the theatre, who had the right to decide, was afraid 
 of discharging two old persons, to whom the company 
 had been much indebted. 
 
 I spoke to M. Gandini in private, and asked him 
 how long he thought his wife capable of enjoying her 
 situation and her profits. "My wife," said he, "may 
 yet shine on the stage for these ten years." "Very 
 well," said I ; "I am authorized by the proprietors to 
 secure to Madame Gandini her salary and her situation 
 for the space of ten years. I engage, for my part, to 
 bring her forward in characters calculated to gain 
 applause ; but then you must leave me at liberty to 
 employ her as I please." "No, sir," he answered 
 abruptly; "my wife is the principal actress, and I 
 would rather be hanged than see her degraded." .So 
 saying, he turned his back to me in a rude and indec- 
 orous manner. I swore that I would be even with 
 him ; and you will see, in the third piece of this year, 
 whether I kept my word. 
 
 The company were to pass the spring and summer 
 at Leghorn, and I calculated on remaining at Venice,
 
 296 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 where my first object was to look after the edition of 
 my works. The two first volumes had been published 
 by Bettinelli the bookseller, and I was on the point of 
 taking the manuscript of the third to him ; but what 
 was my astonishment when I was told by this phleg- 
 matic man. with the most chilling indifference, that he 
 could no longer receive any more copy from me ; that 
 he was to receive it from the hands of Medebac; and 
 that he was to continue the edition on account of this 
 comedian. On recovering from my surprise, and when 
 my indignation was succeeded by a calm. " Take care, 
 friend," said I to him; "yon are not rich, and have 
 children ; do not ruin yourself, do not force me to ruin 
 you." He persisted, however, in his resolution. Bet- 
 tinelli. whom I had too early, perhaps, allowed to 
 receive the privilege of printing my works, had been 
 gained over by money : and I had therefore to contend 
 against the director, who contested the right of prop- 
 erty of my pieces, and against the bookseller, who 
 was empowered to publish them. 
 
 I should, without doubt, have gained my suit, but 
 this would have required litigation, and chicanery is 
 the same all the world over. I took the shortest 
 method; for I went instantly to Florence, and com- 
 menced a new edition, leaving Medebac and Bettinelli 
 at liberty to continue the one at Venice : but I pub- 
 lished a prospectus which threw both of them into 
 consternation ; for I announced corrections and altera- 
 tions. I applied at Florence to a M. Paperini, a very 
 respectable printer and a worthy man. We con- 
 cluded our agreement in two hours' time, and in the 
 month of May, 1753, we had the first volume in the 
 press. This fortunate edition of ten volumes, octavo, 
 by subscription, and at my expense, was extended to
 
 CARLO GOLDO'I. 297 
 
 seventeen hundred copies ; and on the publication of 
 the sixth volume, it was completely filled up. I had 
 five hundred subscribers at Venice, and the entry of 
 my edition was prohibited in the territories of the 
 republic. This proscription of my works in my own 
 country may appear singular ; but it was a mere affair 
 of commerce. Bettinelli had found protectors to se- 
 cure to him his exclusive privilege, and the body of 
 booksellers seconded him, because mine was a foreign 
 edition. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, this prohibition, and all 
 the precautions of my adversaries, every time that one 
 of my volumes issued from the press, five hundred 
 copies were despatched to Venice. An asylum for 
 them had been found on the banks of the Po ; a com- 
 pany of noble Venetians went in quest of the contra- 
 band commodity to the Venetian confines, introduced 
 it into the capital, and made the distribution in open 
 day; for the government would not interfere in an 
 affair which was more ridiculous than interesting. 
 
 When I was at Florence, and my new company at 
 Leghorn, I visited them occasionally, and put into 
 the hands of the principal actress two comedies which 
 I found leisure to compose, notwithstanding the fa- 
 tiguing and assiduous attention which my edition re- 
 quired from me. We all met at Venice in the begin- 
 ning of the month of October, and the first new piece 
 which we gave was " L'Avaro Geloso" (The Jealous 
 Miser). I drew the protagonist of this piece from 
 nature. I became acquainted with his portrait and 
 his history at Florence, where this man lived to the 
 disgrace of humanity. He was charged with two 
 vices equally odious, but which, from the contrast 
 between his passions, placed him in highly comic situ-
 
 298 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ations. The infamy of this character is calculated to 
 excite disgust ; however, the piece would still have 
 succeeded, but the actor to whom the part was in- 
 trusted was exceedingly deformed, and in no estima- 
 tion with the public. I thought I acted properly in 
 choosing, for a wicked character, a man who answered 
 that description pretty well himself, and I imagined 
 that his leanness, his ill looks, and his broken voice 
 would suit tolerably well with the part. In this, 
 however, I was much deceived. Some time after- 
 wards I gave the same part to Rubini, who acted the 
 Venetian characters : and the same piece, which com- 
 pletely failed at its début, became afterwards one of 
 the favorite pieces of that excellent actor. 
 
 My enemies, who were not sorry at the unfortunate 
 issue of my first piece, and the partisans of the thea- 
 tre of St. Angelo, observed, with a sort of malicious 
 joy, that I would repent having quitted a company to 
 whom I was indebted for the success of my works. 
 None of these observations gave me the smallest un- 
 easiness. I was sure of silencing them with my third 
 piece ; but in the mean time I was in great apprehen- 
 sion for the second, which I was about to give. This 
 was the " Donna di Testa Debole, 6 la Yedova Infatu- 
 ata" (The Silly Woman, or Infatuated Widow). The 
 piece fell at its first representations, as I had foreseen ; 
 and I unfortunately saw my prognostication too well 
 verified. 
 
 I perceived, when it was too late, the circumstances 
 which were unfavorable for me and my comedians. 
 They were not yet sufficiently instructed in the new 
 method necessary for my comedies : I had not yet had 
 time to infuse into them the taste, tone, or natural 
 and expressive manner which distinguished the actors
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 299 
 
 of the theatre of St. Angelo. Another circumstance 
 was still more remarkable. The theatre of St. Luke 
 was much larger, and from that circumstance every- 
 thing simple and delicate in action, everything refined, 
 agreeable, and truly comic, lost much of its attrac- 
 tion. It was natural to suppose that the public in 
 time would reconcile themselves to the situation, and 
 listen with more attention to regular and natural 
 pieces ; but it was requisite to make a strong impres- 
 sion at first by vigorous subjects, by actions which, 
 without being gigantic, rose above the level of ordi- 
 nary comedy. 
 
 This was my first project ; but the publication of my 
 works did not leave me the master of my wishes, and 
 it was not till my third piece that I made the requisite 
 effort of imagination to install myself with honor in the 
 new theatre, where I had to carry through reform and 
 support my reputation. Having this object in view, I 
 looked out for a subject capable of supplying me with 
 comic and interesting situations and showy exhibitions. 
 I had perused the modern history of Salmon, translated 
 from the English into Italian : but I did not find there 
 the fable which forms the subject of my piece. In 
 that instructive work, however, I acquired information 
 respecting the laws, manners, and customs of the Per- 
 sians ; and from the details of the English author, I 
 composed a comedy entitled ' ' La Sposa Persiana n 
 (The Persian Spouse). 
 
 The subject of this piece is not heroic : a rich finan- 
 cier of Ispahan, of the name of Machmout, engages 
 and forces Thamas, his son, to marry against his will, 
 Fatima, the daughter of Osman, an officer of rank in 
 the army of the Sophi. This is what we every day 
 see in our pieces ; a young lady betrothed to a young
 
 300 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 man whose heart is already preoccupied. However, 
 the names of Fatima, Machmout, and Thamas began to 
 lead the public to expect something extraordinary ; and 
 the saloon of the financier furnished with a sofa and 
 cushions in the Mahometan style, and the dresses 
 and turbans in the Oriental costume, announced a 
 strange nation, and whatever is strange naturally ex- 
 cites curiosity. Thamas had a Circassian slave of the 
 name of Hircana, to whom he was tenderly attached, 
 and who, notwithstanding her servitude, proudly re- 
 fused to allow her lover and master to share her favors 
 with other women, not even with the one his father 
 destined for his spouse. This comedy was highly suc- 
 cessful, and was represented so long that some curious 
 individuals had time to transcribe it, and it appeared 
 in print without a date some time afterwards. 
 
 I owed the flattering reception of this piece to Madame 
 Bresciani, who acted the character of Hircana, and for 
 whom I had conceived and executed it. Gandini would 
 not allow the prerogatives of his wife to be encroached 
 on ; and this would have been all very well if Madame 
 Gandini had not been on the verge of fifty ; but to 
 avoid disputes, I gave a character to the second actress 
 greatly superior to that of the first. I was highly rec- 
 ompensed for my pains ; for it was impossible to rep- 
 resent a strong and interesting passion with more force, 
 energy, and truth than was displayed by Madame Bres- 
 ciani in this important character. This actress, who, 
 to her talents and information, added the advantage of 
 a sonorous voice and a charming pronunciation, pro- 
 duced such an impression in this fortunate comedy, 
 that she always went afterwards by the name of Hir- 
 cana. The interest taken by the public in the charac- 
 ter of Hircana might lead to a suspicion that I had
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 301 
 
 mistaken the title of the piece, or weakened the prin- 
 cipal action. Fatiina, however, is the protagonist, 
 and Hircana the antagonist ; but the illusion was not 
 in unison with this arrangement, and thé slave of 
 twenty-five triumphed over the spouse of fifty. 
 
 The public, always attached to the charming Cir- 
 cassian, was sorry to see her leave the stage with a 
 sigh, and would have wished to know whither she went 
 and what became of her. I was asked for the sequel 
 to the " Persian Spouse," and yet it was not the spouse 
 which interested the curious. I should have willingly 
 contented them, but could not. Gandini was piqued 
 against the public and against me, whom he accused 
 of having played him a cursed trick ; for I had had, 
 he said, the diabolical art to sacrifice his wife without 
 his perceiving it. It was not my intention to injure 
 hiin. I merely wished to force him to accept the ad- 
 vantageous offer which I proposed to him, and I was 
 in reality doing him a service, notwithstanding his 
 brutality. More obstinate than ever, this unreasonable 
 man informed the proprietor of the theatre that his wife 
 would not act in the sequel to the " Persian Spouse," of 
 which he had heard. He met with a very unfavorable 
 reception from his excellency Vendramini ; and the 
 comedian, who could not give vent to his rage against 
 his superior, took his watch to pieces and threw it, as 
 he left the house, against a glass door, which he broke. 
 But he did still worse than this ; he went to the Saxon 
 minister, who was in want of actors for King Augustus 
 of Poland, and engaged himself and his wife for Dres- 
 den. Both of them immediately disappeared without 
 the least notice. No one was disposed to regret them, 
 and least of all myself ; for by their departure I was 
 left in perfect freedom to labor as I pleased, and I ac-
 
 302 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cordingly gratified m y countrymen with the sequel which 
 was so much desired by them. 
 
 I entitled the second piece on this subject, " Hircana 
 at Julia." Julfa, or Zulfa, is a town a league distant 
 from Ispahan, and inhabited by a colony of Armenians, 
 whom Schah-Abas invited into Persia for the advan- 
 tage of trade. Hircana, forced to leave Ispahau, forms 
 the resolution of repairing to Julfa, where at last 
 Thamas makes her an offer of his hand. Her joy is 
 at its height. They are now both satisfied ; and the 
 public thanked me with reiterated applauses for having 
 terminated the catastrophe of Hircana in a satisfactory 
 manner. But, next day, the very same public were 
 asking if this spouse of Thamas was to be happy, if 
 Machmout would pardon his son for all the displeasure 
 he had caused him to experience, and if he would re- 
 ceive favorably a woman who had thrown his house 
 into trouble and desolation. The novel, it was said, 
 was greatly advanced, but not yet finished. I was 
 aware of this also, and had foreseen the consequence 
 so well, that I had a third piece quite arranged in my 
 imagination, which I gave the following year under the 
 title of " Hircana at Ispahan." This was so successful 
 that it greatly surpassed the two others, still possessing 
 the same interest, and leaving nothing more to be 
 desired by the friends of the Circassian. 
 
 This third Persian comedy did not make its appear- 
 ance on the stage till a year after the second, and three 
 years after the first ; but I have placed them here in 
 succession, that my readers may have a distinct view 
 at once of the three different actions on the same sub- 
 ject. The success of the last was even greater, if pos-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 303 
 
 VII. 
 
 I MUST return to the year 1753, from which I was 
 induced to wander, that I might not interrupt the con- 
 tinuity of "The Three Persians." The public de- 
 manded verses : there was no alternative : and in the 
 eroding carnival 1 gave " 11 Filosofo Inglese" (The 
 English Philosopher). The theatre represented a 
 street in the city of Loudon, with a coffee-house and a 
 bookseller's shop. At that time a translation of the 
 English '* Spectator," a periodical work, was in the 
 hands of everybody at Venice. The women of Venice, 
 who till then were no great readers, began to relish 
 that work, and to become^ philosophers. I was de- 
 lighted to see criticism and instruction admitted to the 
 toilets of my dear countrywomen, and this induced me 
 to compose the piece in question. 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1/54 I received a letter 
 from my brother. For twelve years I had had no news 
 of him ; and he gave me then an account of himself 
 from the battle of Veletri, in which he was present, in 
 the suite of the Duke of Modena, to the day in which 
 he thought proper to write to me. This letter was 
 dated from Rome, in which city he had married the 
 widow of a lawyer, by whom he had two children ; a 
 boy of eight and a girl of five years of age. His wife 
 was dead; he was tired of residing in a country where 
 military men were neither useful nor held in estima- 
 tion ; and he was desirous of living beside his brother, 
 and of presenting him the two shoots of the family of 
 Groldoni. Far from being piqued at a silence and 
 neglect of twelve years, I instantly felt an interest in 
 these two children, who might perhaps stand in need 
 of my assistance. I invited my brother to return to
 
 304 MEMOIES OF 
 
 my house ; I wrote to Rome, that he might "be supplied 
 with the money he stood iu need of; and in the month 
 of March of the same year I embraced with real satis- 
 faction this brother, whom I had always loved, and 
 my niece and nephew, whom I adopted as my children. 
 My mother, who was still alive, felt a lively pleasure 
 in seeing again a son whom she no longer reckoned 
 among the living ; and my wife, whose goodness and 
 sweetness of disposition never varied, received these 
 two children as her own, and took care of their edu- 
 cation. 
 
 Surrounded with all that was most dear to me, and 
 contented with the success of my works, I was one of 
 the happiest men in the world ; but I was, at the same 
 time, extremely wearied. I was still suffering from 
 the immense fatigue which I had undergone for the 
 theatre of St. Angelo ; and the verses, to which I 
 had unfortunately accustomed the public, cost me in- 
 finitely more trouble than prose. My spleen began to 
 attack me with more than usual violence. The new 
 family, which I maintained in my house, rendered my 
 health more than ever necessary to me, and the dread 
 of losing it augmented my complaint. My attacks 
 were as much of a physical as a moral nature. Some- 
 times my imagination was heated by the effervescence 
 of the bodily fluids, and sometimes the animal economy 
 was deranged by apprehension. Our mind is so inti- 
 mately connected with our body, that if it were not for 
 reason, which belongs to the immortal soul, we should 
 be mere machines. In my present state I required ex- 
 ercise and amusement. I resolved on a short journey, 
 and I took all my family with me. 
 
 On my arrival at Modena I was attacked with a 
 defluxion in mv chest. Evervbodv was in an alarm
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 305 
 
 for me, but I was nowise alarmed myself; and this is 
 the way in which I have been all my lifetime : pos- 
 sessing a great deal of courage when in danger, and 
 suffering from ridiculous apprehensions when in good 
 health. I got rid of my indisposition, but I had no 
 time for amusement. My comedians were at Milan, 
 where I went to join them ; having my wife, my 
 brother, and his two children, always along with me. 
 The expense nowise alarmed me, as my edition went 
 on successfully, and money poured in upon me from all 
 quarters. Money has never been long stationary with 
 me. " The Persian Spouse" had the same success at 
 Milan as at Venice, and I was overwhelmed with praise, 
 with offers of friendship, and presents. My health was 
 improving, my spleen subsided, and I led a delicious 
 life ; but this state of happiness, prosperity, and tran- 
 quillity was not of long duration. 
 
 The company of the theatre of St. Luke made an 
 acquisition of an excellent actor, of the name of An- 
 geleri, a native of Milan, who had a brother at the bar, 
 and whose relatives were of great respectability in the 
 middle class of that place. This man was subject to 
 fits of spleen, and I had several conversations with him 
 at Venice on the extravagance of our malady. I met 
 with him on my arrival at Milan, and found him worse 
 than ever. He was tormented between the desire of 
 displaying the superiority of his talents and the shame 
 of appearing on the theatre of his native place. He 
 suffered infinitely from seeing his companions ap- 
 plauded, and having no share himself in the applause 
 of the public. This spleen gained ground every day, 
 and the conversations which we had together tended 
 also to excite mine. He yielded at length to the im- 
 pulse of his genius, and exposed himself in public. He
 
 306 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 played with great applause, and, on returning behind 
 the scenes, he dropped down dead. The stage was 
 empty ; the actors did not make their appearance ; the 
 news gradually spread ; and at last reached the box 
 where I was. " heavens ! Augeleri dead ? My com- 
 panion in spleen!" I rushed out like a madman, and 
 proceeded without knowing where. I reached home 
 without being conscious of the way I took. Everybody 
 perceived my agitation ; and when I was asked the 
 cause of it, I cried out repeatedly, " Angeleri is dead ! " 
 and threw myself upon my bed. My wife, who knew 
 my disposition, endeavored to tranquillize me, and ad- 
 vised me to be bled. I believe I should have done well 
 to have followed her advice ; but in the midst of the 
 phantoms which harassed me to a degree that almost 
 suspended respiration, I was still sensible of my folly, 
 and ashamed of having yielded to it. Notwithstanding 
 my endeavors to call reason to my assistance, the revo- 
 lution was so violent that I was seized with real illness, 
 and my mind was more difficult to cure than my body. 
 
 Doctor Baronio, my physician, after frequently em- 
 ploying all the resources of his profession, cured me 
 thoroughly one day by an advice which he gave me. 
 " Consider your disease," said he, " in the light of a 
 child who comes forward to attack you with a drawn 
 sword. If you be on your guard, he cannot hurt you; 
 but if you lay open your breast to him, the child will 
 kill you ! " This apologue restored me to health, and 
 I have never forgotten it. I have found its use in 
 every stage of my life ; for this cursed child sometimes 
 threatens me yet, and it costs me some efforts to dis- 
 arm him. 
 
 During the progress of my recovery at Modena, and 
 in the intervals of my fits at Milan, I never lost sight
 
 CAELO GOLDONI. 307 
 
 of my theatre. I returned to Venice with a sufficiency 
 of materials for the year 1754 : and our theatre opened 
 with a piece called " La Villégiatura n (The Country 
 Excursion). I had observed, in my journey, a number 
 of country houses along the banks of the Brenta, where 
 all the pomp of luxury was displayed. In former times 
 our ancestors frequented these spots for the sole purpose 
 of collecting their property, and their descendants go 
 there merely to spend theirs. In the country they keep 
 open table, play high, give balls and theatrical enter- 
 tainments, and the Italian cicisbeo system is there in- 
 dulged without disguise or constraint, and gains more 
 ground than elsewhere. I .gave a view of all these 
 circumstances shortly afterwards in three consecutive 
 pieces. In the first there is no interest; but the de- 
 tails of a gallant nature are very amusing, and the 
 variety of characters introduced gives rise to incidents 
 and dialogues of a highly comic nature, and furnishes 
 an opportunity for the display of much just and enter- 
 taining criticism. My object was seen through and 
 applauded, and the piece, though in prose, met with 
 more success than I could have imagined. 
 
 I prepared for the carnival a comedy in prose, the 
 subject of which did not appear to me adapted for verse. 
 I allude to the " Vecchio Bizzarro" : this word bkzarro 
 sometimes in Italian has the signification of the French 
 word bizarre, and means capricious, fantastical, and 
 even extravagant ; but it is much more frequently used 
 to express what is gay, amusing, and brilliant ; and 
 the best translation for my " Vecchio Bizzarro," is "The 
 Amiable Old Man." I recollected the " Cortesan Vene- 
 ziano," given by me fifteen years before to the theatre 
 of St. Samuel, and represented by Golinetti with so 
 much applause; and I was desirous of composing a
 
 308 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 piece in the same style for Rubini, who acted Panta- 
 loon in the theatre of St. Luke. But Golinetti was 
 a young man, and Rubini fifty at the least ; and as I 
 wished to bring him forward in this piece without a 
 mask, it was necessary to adapt the character to his 
 age. Those men who have been amiable in their youth 
 are proportionably so in their old age ; and of this Ru- 
 bini himself was a proof, for he was as agreeable on 
 the stage as delightful in company. 
 
 I expected that this play would at least be equally 
 successful with "The Cortesan " ; but in this expec- 
 tation I was sadly deceived. Rubini, who had never 
 appeared without a mask, was so constrained and em- 
 barrassed in his acting, that he displayed neither grace 
 nor art nor common-sense. The piece fell in the most 
 cruel and humiliating manner for both himself and 
 me : it was with the greatest difficulty that it was 
 allowed to go on to the conclusion, and when the cur- 
 tain was lowered, nothing but hisses were to be heard. 
 I escaped with all possible expedition from the theatre, 
 to avoid disagreeable compliments, and repaired to the 
 Ridotto. I mixed, concealed beneath my mask, in the 
 crowd which assembles there on leaving the theatres, 
 and I had sufficient time and opportunity to hear the 
 eulogies with which both myself and my piece were 
 honored. I went from one gaming-table to another, 
 and I found myself the universal subject of conversa- 
 tion. "Goldoni is done," said some; " Goldoni has 
 emptied his bag," said others. I recognized a nasal 
 voice which proceeded from a mask, and declared aloud 
 that "the portfolio was exhausted." He was asked 
 what portfolio he alluded to. "The manuscript," said 
 he, "from which Goldoni has drawn everything that he 
 has yet produced." Notwithstanding the desire which
 
 CARLO GOLDOXL 309 
 
 every one seemed to have to laugh at my expense, this 
 declaration of the nasal mask turned the current of ridi- 
 cule completely against himself. I sought for criticism, 
 but I could hear only the effusions of ignorance and 
 animosity. 
 
 On returning home, I passed the night in meditating 
 on the means of being revenged on my ill-natured critics. 
 I was at length successful, and at break of day I began 
 a comedy of five acts, and in verse, entitled " II Festino" 
 (The Citizen's Ball). I sent it, act by act, to the copy- 
 ist. The comedians got off their parts in proportion as 
 the work proceeded: on the fourteenth day the play was 
 advertised, and on the fifteenth it was acted. It was 
 a complete exemplification of the axiom "Facit indig- 
 natio versus." This piece was still founded on the 
 eieisbeo system. A husband forces his w T ife to give a 
 ball to her eieisbeo. I contrived to have in a saloon 
 adjoining the ball-room an assembly of fatigued dancers. 
 I turned the conversation to the " Vecchio Bizzarro," — 
 1 repeated all the ridiculous things which I heard at the 
 Ridotto; I kept up a dispute for and against the piece 
 and the author, and my defence met with the approba- 
 tion and applause of the public. 
 
 In this manner I gave a proof that my " bag was not 
 empty," and that my u portfolio was not exhausted." 
 Listen to me, my fellow-laborers ; we have no other 
 means of being revenged on the public, but by com- 
 pelling them to applaud us. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Amidst my several daily occupations, I never lost 
 sight of the impression of my works. In my Florence 
 edition I had published the pieces composed by me for
 
 310 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the theatres of St. Samuel and St. Angelo ; and I be- 
 gan now to send to the press the productions of the two 
 first years of my new engagement with that of St. Luke. 
 This edition in octavo, under the title of "New Theatre 
 of M. Goldoiii." was undertaken by Pitteri, a bookseller 
 of Venice. I supplied him with sufficient materials foi 
 six months, and then went to join my comedians, who 
 were passing the spring at Bologna. 
 
 On arriving at the bridge of Lago-Scuro, a league 
 from Ferrara, where certain duties are demanded, I 
 forgot to submit my truuk to an examination, and I was 
 taken into custody on leaving the village. I had a 
 small store of chocolate, coffee, and tapers. These 
 were contraband commodities, and liable to confisca- 
 tion. This subjected me to a considerable fine ; and in 
 the dominions of the church the revenue -officers are by 
 no means lenient. The custom-house officer, who had 
 peace-officers along with him, on searching my trunk, 
 found several volumes of my comedies, which he ex- 
 tolled as highly delightful. He acted himself in private 
 parties. On my naming myself, he was surprised, en- 
 chanted, and kindly disposed towards me ; and he gave 
 me reason to entertain the most favorable hopes. Had 
 he been alone, he would have set me instantly at lib- 
 erty ; but as it was, the guards would not have consented 
 to lose their dues. The officer ordered my trunk to be 
 packed up again, and took me with him to the custom- 
 house. The director of the customs was not there : 
 my protector went himself to Ferrara in quest of him ; 
 and he returned in three hours' time with an order for 
 my liberation, on paying a small sum of duty for my 
 provisions. I wished to recompense the officer for the 
 service he had rendered me ; but he refused two sequins 
 which I requested him to accept, and even my choco-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 311 
 
 late, which I offered to share with him. All I could 
 do, therefore, was to thank and admire him: I wrote 
 his name down in my memorandum-hook ; I promised 
 him a copy of my new edition, an offer which he ac- 
 cepted with gratitude, and I entered my chaise, resumed 
 my journey, and arrived in the evening at Bologna. 
 
 In this city, the mother of science and the Athens 
 of Italy, complaints had been made some years "before 
 of my reformation, as having a tendency to suppress the 
 four masks of the Italian comedy. This sort of comedy 
 was in greater estimation at Bologna than elsewhere. 
 There were several persons of merit in that place, who 
 took a delight in composing outlines of pieces, which 
 were very well represented there by citizens of great 
 ability, and the delight of their country. The amateurs 
 of the old comedy, on seeing the rapid progress of the 
 new, declared everywhere that it was unworthy of an 
 Italian to give a blow to a species of comedy in which 
 Italy had attained great distinction, and which no other 
 nation had ever yet been able to imitate. But what 
 made the greatest impression on the discontented was 
 the suppression of masks, which my system appeared 
 to threaten. It was said that these personages had for 
 two centuries been the amusement of Italy, and that it 
 ought not to be deprived of a species of comic diversion 
 which it had created and so well supported. 
 
 Before venturing to give any opinion on this subject, 
 I imagine the reader will have no objection to listen for 
 a few minutes to a short account of the origin, employ- 
 ment, and effects of these four masks. Comedy, which 
 in all ages has been the favorite entertainment of pol- 
 ished nations, shared the fate of the arts and sciences, 
 and was buried under the ruins of the empire during 
 the decay of letters. The germ of comedy, however,
 
 312 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was never altogether extinguished in the fertile bosom 
 of Italy. Those who first endeavored to bring about 
 its revival, not finding, in an ignorant age, writers of 
 sufficient skill, had the boldness to draw out plans, to 
 distribute them into acts and scenes, and to utter, ex- 
 tempore, the subjects, thoughts, and witticisms which 
 they had concerted among themselves. Those who 
 could read (and neither the great nor the rich were of 
 the number) found that in the comedies of Plautus 
 and Terence there were always duped fathers, debauched 
 sons, enamored girls, knavish servants, and mercenary 
 maids; and, running over the different districts of Italy, 
 they took the fathers from Venice and Bologna, the 
 servants from Bergamo, and the lovers and waiting- 
 maids from the dominions of Rome and Tuscany. 
 Written proofs are not to be expected of what took 
 place in a time when writing was not in use ; but I 
 prove my assertion in this way : Pantaloon has al- 
 ways been a Venetian, the Doctor a Bolognese, and 
 Brighella and Harlequin, Bergamasks ; and from these 
 places, therefore, the comic personages called the four 
 masks of the Italian comedy were taken by the players. 
 What I say on this subject is not altogether the crea- 
 ture of my imagination: I possess a manuscript of the 
 fifteenth century, in very good preservation, and bound 
 in parchment, containing a hundred and twenty sub- 
 jects, or sketches of Italian pieces, called comedies of 
 art, and of which the basis of the comic humor are 
 always Pantaloon, a Venetian merchant ; the Doctor, a 
 Bolognese juris-consult; and Brighella and Harlequin, 
 Bergamask valets, the first clever and sprightly, and 
 the other a mere dolt. Their antiquity and their long 
 existence indicate their origin. 
 
 With respect to their employment, Pantaloon and
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 313 
 
 the Doctor, called by the Italians the two old men, 
 represent the part of fathers, and the other parts where 
 d<»aks are vrorn. The first is a merchant, because 
 Venice in its ancient times was the richest and most 
 extensively commercial country of Italy. He has al- 
 ways preserved the ancient Venetian costume; the 
 black dress and the woollen bonnet are still worn in 
 Venice : and the red under-waistcoat and breeches, 
 cut out like drawers, with red stockings and slippers, 
 are a most exact representation of the equipment of 
 the first inhabitants of the Adriatic marshes. The 
 heard, which was considered as an ornament in those 
 remote ages, has been caricatured, and rendered ridic- 
 ulous in subsequent periods**. 
 
 The second old man. called the Doctor, was taken 
 from among the lawyers, for the sake of opposing a 
 learned man to a merchant ; and Bologna was selected, 
 because in that city there existed a university, which, 
 notwithstanding the ignorance of the times, still pre- 
 served the offices and emoluments of the professors. 
 In the dress of the Doctor. Ave observe the ancient cos- 
 tume of the university and bar of Bologna, which is 
 nearly the same at tins day : and the idea of the sin- 
 gular mask which covers his face and nose was taken 
 from a wine stain which disfigured the countenance of 
 a juris-consult in those times. This is a tradition still 
 existing among the amateurs of the comedy uî art. 
 
 Brighella and Harlequin, called in Italy the two 
 Zani, were taken from Bergamo : because, the former 
 being a very sharp fellow, and the other a stupid 
 clown, these two extremes are only to he found among 
 the lower orders of that part of the country. Bri- 
 ghella represents an intriguing, deceitful, and knavish 
 valet. His dress is a species of livery ; his swarthy
 
 314 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 mask is a caricature of the color of the inhabitants of 
 those high mountains, tanned by the heat of the sun. 
 Some (•« «medians, in this character, have taken the 
 name of Fenocchio, Fiqueto, and Scapin; but they 
 have always represented the same valet and the same 
 Bergamask. The harlequins have also assumed other 
 names ; they have been sometimes Traeagnins, Truf- 
 faldins, Gradelins, and Mezetins ; but they have always 
 been stupid Bergamasks. Their dress is an exact rep- 
 resentation of that of a poor devil who has picked up 
 pieces of stuffs of different colors to patch his dress ; 
 his hat corresponds with his mendicity, and the hare's 
 tail with which it is ornamented is still common in the 
 dress of the peasantry of Bergamo. 
 
 I have thus, I trust, sufficiently demonstrated the 
 origin and employment of the four masks of the Ital- 
 ian comedy ; it now remains for me to mention the 
 effects resulting from them. The mask must always 
 be very prejudicial to the action of the performer either 
 in joy or sorrow; whether he be in love, cross, or 
 good-humored, the same features are always exhibited ; 
 and however he may gesticulate and vary the tone, he 
 can never convey by the countenance, which is the in- 
 terpreter of the heart, the different passions with 
 which he is inwardly agitated. The masks of the 
 Greeks and Romans were a sort of speaking-trumpets, 
 invented for the purpose of conveying the sound through 
 the vast extent of their amphitheatres. Passion and 
 sentiment were not, in those times, carried to the 
 pitch of delicacy now actually necessary. The actor 
 must, in our days, possess a soul ; and the soul under 
 a mask is like a fire under ashes. These were the 
 reasons which induced me to endeavor the reform of 
 the Italian theatre, and to supply the place of farces
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 315 
 
 with comedies. But the complaints became louder and 
 louder; I was disgusted with the two parties, and I 
 endeavored to satisfy both; I undertook to produce 
 a few pieces merely sketched, without ceasing to give 
 comedies of character. I employed the masks in the 
 former; and I displayed a more noble and interesting 
 comic humor in the others ; each participated in the 
 species of pleasure with which they were most de- 
 lighted ; with time and patience I brought about a 
 reconciliation between them; and I had the satisfac- 
 tion, at length, to see myself authorized in following 
 my own taste, which became, in a few years, the most 
 general and prevailing in Italy. I willingly pardoned 
 the partisans of the comedians with masks the injuries 
 they laid to my charge; for they were very able ama- 
 teurs, who had the merit of giving themselves an in- 
 terest to sketched comedies. 
 
 I was most disgusted with those persons of quality 
 who called for vengeance against me for having rid* 
 iculed the cicisbeo system, and ventured to attack the 
 nobility. I was not desirous of excusing myself in 
 this respect, and still less of correcting myself; but I 
 entertained too high a value for the suffrage of the Bo- 
 lognese, not to endeavor to convert the discontented, 
 and to deserve their esteem. I invented a comedy, the 
 subject of which was worthy of a country where the 
 arts, sciences, and literature were more generally cul- 
 tivated than elsewhere. I selected for the subject of 
 my piece " Terence the African"; as I had, several years 
 before, selected the French Terence. This comedy is one 
 of my favorites ; it cost me infinité labor, and procured 
 me a great deal of satisfaction ; it merited the general 
 eulogium of the Bolognese : could I then possibly re- 
 frain to give it the preference ? Content with the sue-
 
 316 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 cess of my " Terence," I returned to Venice, and passed 
 the rest of the summer at Bagnoli, a superb estate in 
 tlif district of Padua, belonging to Count Widiman, 
 a noble Venetian, and a feudatory in the imperial 
 dominions. This rich and generous nobleman was 
 always accompanied by a numerous and select society. 
 They represented plays, and he himself bore a part in 
 them ; and, notwithstanding his natural seriousness, 
 there was not a harlequin of them all more gay and 
 nimble than himself. He had studied Sacchi, and 
 imitated him to admiration. I supplied little sketches ; 
 but I durst not venture to play in them. Some ladies 
 of the party obliged me to take the character of a 
 lover; I satisfied them, and thus enabled them to 
 laugh, and enjoy themselves at my expense. I was 
 piqued ; and next day I sketched a small piece, entitled 
 " The Fair" ; and in place of one character for myself, 
 I took four, — a stage-doctor, a sharper, a stage-man- 
 ager, and a ballad-monger. In the first of these char- 
 acters I mimicked the jugglers of the square of .St. 
 Mark ; and I uttered under the mask of the fourth 
 several allegorical and critical couplets, concluding 
 with the complaint of the author against them for 
 laughing at me. This pleasantry was approved of; 
 and thus I took my revenge in my own way. 
 
 I quitted the company of Bagnoli about the end of 
 the month of September, and returned borne, to be 
 present at the opening of my theatre. The first, 
 novelty we gave was 4 " Il Cavalière Giocondo" (The 
 Merry Gentleman), a piece which I should perhaps have 
 forgotten, if I had not seen it printed against my will 
 in the edition of Turin : it was not damned outright at 
 its first representation : it was in verse, and displeased 
 nobody, but 1 myself was disgusted with it. After this
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 317 
 
 piece in verse, I gave one which, notwithstanding the 
 disadvantage of prose, pleased very much, and was 
 eminently successful. 
 
 I gave three other pieces on the same subject; 
 and the following are their titles : "Le Smanie della 
 Villégiatura" (The Country Mania); u Le Avven- 
 ture della Canipagna" (The Adventures of the Coun- 
 try); and " II Kitorno della Campagna" (The Return 
 from the Country). In Italy, and at Venice in a par- 
 ticular manner, this mania, these adventures and 
 regrets, furnish an abundance of ridiculous matter 
 worthy of comedy. It is hardly possible in France to 
 have any idea of the extent of this fanaticism, which 
 converts the country into a display of luxury rather 
 than a scene of rural enjoyment. Since I have been 
 at Paris, however, I have seen people win», without 
 having an inch of ground to cultivate, kept up country- 
 houses at a great expense, in which they ruined them- 
 selves as well as the Italians ; and my piece, in giving 
 an idea of the folly of my countrymen, may admit of 
 this incidental deduction, that in every country where 
 people of moderate fortunes attempt to vie with the 
 opulent, they will infallibly be ruined. 
 
 IX. 
 
 I was called to Parma in the month of March, 1756, 
 by order of his royal highness the Infante Dou Philip. 
 This prince, who maintained a very numerous and 
 able French company, was also desirous of having an 
 Italian comic opera. He did me the honor to employ 
 me in the composition of three pieces for the opening 
 of this new entertainment. On arriving at Parma I 
 was conducted to Colorno, where the court then was,
 
 318 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and introduced to M. du Tillot, intendant-gencral of 
 the house of his royal highness, who was afterwards a 
 minister of state, and advanced to the title of Marquis 
 de Felino. This worthy Frenchman, full of intellect, 
 talents, and probity, received me with kindness ; gave 
 me a very pretty apart ment ; destined me a seat at 
 his table, and directed me to M. Jacobi, then intrusted 
 with the management of the entertainments, for my 
 instructions. The same day I went to the court- 
 comedy, and saw, for the first time, French actors. I 
 was enchanted with their acting, and astonished at the 
 silence which prevailed in the theatre. I do not recol- 
 lect the name of the comedy which was that day repre- 
 sented ; but on seeing, in one of the scenes, a lover 
 warmly embrace his mistress, this action, which is 
 natural and allowable tu the French, but prohibited to 
 the Italians, pleased me so much that I called out, 
 " Bravo I " as loud as I could. My indiscreet and un- 
 known voice shocked the silent assembly. The prince 
 wished to know whence it came : I was named, and 
 the surprise of an Italian author was considered par- 
 donable. This sally was the means of my general 
 introduction to the public. I went behind the scenes 
 after the conclusion of the performance, where I was 
 soon surrounded with people, and I thus formed a 
 number of acquaintances, who made my residence in 
 Parma very agreeable to me, and whom I regretted 
 at parting. I had the honor, some days afterwards, of 
 kissing the hands of the infante, infanta, and the prin- 
 cess-royal, their daughter. I enjoyed for some time 
 the pleasures of Colorno, and then retired to Parma, to 
 labor without interruption. 
 
 I was liberally recompensed for my time and my 
 trouble ; and I left Parma with letters-patent of poet,
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 319 
 
 and actual servant of his royal highness, and with an 
 annual pension which the reigning duke had the good- 
 ness to continue to me. 
 
 X. 
 
 Mr journey to Parma, and the pension and diploma 
 conferred on me, excited the envy and rage of my ad- 
 versaries. They had reported at Venice, during my 
 absence, that I was dead : and there was a monk who 
 had even the temerity to say he had been at my fu- 
 neral. On arriving home safe and sound, the evil- 
 disposed began to display their irritation at my good 
 fortune. It was not the authors, my antagonists, who 
 tormented me, but the partisans of the different thea- 
 tres of Venice. 
 
 I was defended by literary men, who entertained a 
 favorable opinion of me; and this gave rise to a war- 
 fare in which I was very innocently the victim of the 
 irritation which had been excited. Every day wit- 
 nessed some new composition for or against me : but I 
 had this advantage, that those who interested them- 
 selves for me, from their manners, their talents, and 
 their reputation, were among the most prudent and 
 distinguished men in Italy. One of the articles for 
 which I was most keenly attacked, was a violation of 
 the purity of the language. I was a Venetian, and I 
 had had the disadvantage of sucking in with my moth- 
 er's milk the use of a very agreeable and seductive 
 patois, which, however, was not Tuscan. I learned 
 by principle, and cultivated by reading, the language 
 of the good Italian authors ; but first impressions will 
 return at times, notwithstanding every attention used 
 in avoiding them. I had undertaken a journey into
 
 320 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Tuscany, where I remained for four years, with the 
 view of becoming familiar with the language; and I 
 
 printed the first edition of my works at Florence, under 
 the eyes and the criticism of the learned of that place, 
 that I might purify them from errors of language. 
 All my precautions were insufficient to satisfy the 
 rigorists : I always failed in one thing or other ; and I 
 was perpetually reproached with the original sin of 
 Venetianism. 
 
 Amidst all this tedious trifling I recollected, one day, 
 that Tasso had heen worried his whole lifetime by the 
 academicians della Crusca, who maintained that his 
 "Jerusalem Delivered " had not passed through the 
 sieve, which is the emblem of their society. I was 
 then in my closet, and I turned my eyes towards the 
 twelve quarto volumes of the works of that author, and 
 exclaimed, " heavens ! must no one write in the 
 Italian language, who has not been born in Tuscany?" 
 I turned up mechanically the five volumes of the dic- 
 tionary de la Crusca, where I found more than six 
 hundred words, and a number of expressions, approved 
 of by the academy, and rejected by the world : I ran 
 over several ancient authors considered as classical, 
 which it would be impossible to imitate in the present 
 day without censure ; and I came to this conclusion, 
 that we must write in good Italian, but write at the 
 same time so as to be understood in every corner of 
 Italy. Tasso was therefore wrong in reforming his 
 poem to please the academicians de la Crusca : his 
 "Jerusalem Delivered " is read by everybody, while 
 nobody thinks of reading his " Jerusalem Conquered." 
 
 In the ensuing carnival, I received a letter from 
 
 Rome. Count , having engaged to uphold the 
 
 Tordinona theatre in that capital, fixed his eyes on me.
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 321 
 
 He demanded from me pieces for his comedians, and 
 invited me to repair to Rome to direct them. 
 
 I had never yet visited Rome ; and the conditions 
 proposed to me were highly honorable. Could I re- 
 fuse so favorable and advantageous an opportunity? 
 
 I could not engage myself, however, without an 
 avowal to the patrician who confided to me the inter- 
 ests of his theatre at Venice. I imparted the project 
 to him, and assured him that I would not fail to sup- 
 ply his comedians with novelties. He readily gave his 
 consent, and even displayed great satisfaction on the 
 occasion. 
 
 I accepted the invitation accordingly, and demanded 
 information respecting the construction of the Tordi- 
 nona theatre, and the actors who were to perforin in it. 
 
 The person who corresponded with me gave me no 
 information on these two points, which appeared to me 
 of some importance : he supposed that, on arriving at 
 Rome, I could blow comedies as glasses are blown in a 
 manufactory; and he merely informed me that he had 
 taken care to have handsome apartments for me in the 
 best quarter of Rome, in the house of a very polite and 
 very worthy abbé, who, from his knowledge, would be 
 able to render my residence in Rome highly agreeable 
 and interesting. 
 
 I accepted the proposition ; and being precluded 
 from laboring for the Roman actors, of whom I knew 
 nothing, I employed my time for the comedians of 
 Venice.
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 XL 
 
 I knew that for some years my comedies had been 
 represented at the Capranica theatre, and that they 
 were applauded there as well as at Venice. I was, 
 therefore, about to combat against myself, and I was 
 desirous of acting in such a manner that my presence, 
 and the care bestowed by me, should incline the public 
 in favor of the new theatre, which was to open under 
 my direction. I had never hazarded my works with- 
 out knowing the actors by whom they were to be rep- 
 resented ; and I wrote again for instruction respecting 
 the character and the aptitute of the comedians who 
 were destined for me. 
 
 I was informed, in answer, that Count was him- 
 self unacquainted with the actors, the greatest part of 
 whom were Neapolitans, who would not make their 
 appearance in Rome till the latter end of the month of 
 November. In the same letter I learned that the count 
 did not demand new pieces from me, that I might 
 bring with me those which I had lately composed for 
 Venice ; that I should see and examine the company 
 myself, and that in the space of a month the theatre 
 might be opened. 
 
 I embarked in the beginning of October with my 
 wife : I did not wish to go alone, and I could not have 
 company more to my liking. We first went to Bo- 
 logna, whence we may go to Rome either by the way 
 of Florence or Loretto ; I preferred the latter road, as 
 I was anxious to satisfy at once both my devotion and 
 my curiosity. The small town of Loretto has the ap- 
 pearance of a perpetual fair of chaplets, medals, and 
 images. It seems that all those who traverse this
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 323 
 
 country are bound to purchase these holy commodities 
 to regale strangers with them. In purchasing my store 
 of them, like other people, I amused myself with in- 
 terrogating my merchant on the profit of his trade. 
 " Alas, sir," said he to me, "there was a time when, 
 through the grace of the good Virgin Mary, those in 
 our situation made rapid fortunes ; but for several years 
 the Mother of God, irritated at our sins, has abandoned 
 us ; the sale diminishes every day ; all that we can do 
 is to keep soul and body together : and if it were not 
 for the Venetians, we should be obliged to shut up 
 shop." When all my purchases were well assorted and 
 tied up, my merchant presented me what he called a 
 conscientious bill. I paid him without much hag- 
 gling : the good man made the sign of the cross with 
 the money which I gave him, and I went away very 
 much edified. I showed my purchase to the Abbé 
 Toni of Loretto, from whom I learned that the mer- 
 chant, having perceived I was a Venetian, had made 
 me pay for my goods a third more than the ordinary 
 price. It was late, and I was in haste to continue my 
 journey, so that I had no time to go and tell my re- 
 ligious friend that he was a knave. 
 
 I continued my route for Rome, and on my arrival 
 
 in that capital I wrote to Count . He sent his 
 
 valet- de -chambre next day to me, and invited me to 
 dine with him. A coach was in waiting at my door to 
 take me, and I dressed, set out, and found all the come- 
 dians assembled at his house. After the usual ceremo- 
 nies I applied to the person nearest me to learn from 
 him his employment. " Sir," said he with an air of 
 importance, " I play Punch." " What, sir," said I to 
 him, u Punch ! in the Neapolitan language ?" " Yes, 
 sir," he replied, " in the same way as your Harlequins
 
 324 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 speak in Bergamask or Venetian. I have been, I may 
 say without boasting, the delight of Rome for upwards 
 of teu years. M. Francisco here plays la Popa (the 
 waiting-maid), and M. Petrillo acts the mothers and 
 sober-minded women, and for teu years we have been 
 the support of the theatre of Tordinona." 
 
 My couutenance fell immediately, and I looked at 
 the count, who was as embarrassed as myself. " I 
 perceive, now that it is too late, the inconveniences of 
 our situation," said he to me ; " but we must endeavor 
 to remedy matters as far as possible." I gave the 
 Neapolitan and Roman actors to understand that, for 
 some time, masks had not been employed in my pieces. 
 ''Never mind; do not let that alarm you," said the 
 celebrated Punch; " we are not puppets; we neither 
 want judgment nor memory ; let us see what you want 
 with us." 
 
 I drew from my pocket the comedy which I had 
 destined for them, and offered to read it. Everybody 
 prepared to hear me ; and I read " La Yedova Spiri- 
 tosa," The comedy gave infinite pleasure to the 
 count ; and the comedians, not daring perhaps to say 
 what they thought of it, acquiesced in the determina- 
 tion of the person who had the power of selecting the 
 pieces. The parts were instantly ordered to be copied 
 out, and the comedians withdrew. When seated at 
 table I did not conceal from the count my fear that we 
 had both of us committed a piece of imprudence, he in 
 sending for me to Rome and myself in coming. 
 
 Whilst the comedians were learning their parts I 
 thought only of seeing and examining everything in 
 Rome, and visiting those to whom I had letters of 
 recommendation. 1 had a letter from the minister cf 
 Parma for Cardinal Porto-Carrero, the Spanish am-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 325 
 
 bassador, and another from Prince Rezzonico, the 
 nephew of the reigning pope, for Cardinal Charles 
 Rezzonico, his brother. 
 
 I began by presenting this last letter to the Cardinal 
 Padrone, who received me with kindness and the same 
 familiarity with which I was honored by his illustrious 
 relations of Venice. He was not long in procuring me 
 an opportunity to visit his holiness, and I was pre- 
 sented a few days afterwards alone and in a private 
 closet ; a favor which is very unusual. This Venetian 
 pontiff, whom I had the honor of knowing in his epis- 
 copal city of Padua, and whose exaltation had been 
 celebrated by my Muse, gave me the most gracious 
 reception. He conversed with me for three quarters 
 of an hour, always speaking to me of his nephews and 
 nieces, and charmed with the news which I communi- 
 cated to him. 
 
 His holiness touched a bell on his table, which was 
 the signal for my departure. I took my leave with 
 many bows and expressions of thanks ; but the holy 
 father did not seem satisfied : he moved his feet and 
 hands, coughed, and looked at me, yet said nothing. 
 What a blunder I had committed! Enchanted and 
 overpowered with the honor conferred on me, I had 
 forgotten to kiss the foot of the successor of St. 
 Peter. I recovered at length from my absence, and 
 prostrated myself. Clement XIII. loaded me with 
 benedictions, and I departed mortified at my stupidity 
 and edified by his indulgence. I continued my visits 
 for several days. Cardinal Porto Carrero made me 
 an offer of his table and the use of his coach. The 
 same offer was made me by the chevalier Carrero, the 
 Venetian ambassador, and I availed myself of the 
 offers, and particularly of the carriages, which are as
 
 326 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 necessary at Rome as at Paris. I saw every day car- 
 dinals, princes, princesses, and foreign ministers; and 
 immediately after my reception I was visited, next 
 day, by valets who came to compliment me on my ar- 
 rival, and to whom it was necessary to give from three 
 to ten paoli according to the rank of their masters, 
 and to those of the Pope three sequins. This is the 
 custom of the country ; the sum is fixed, and there is 
 no abatement. 
 
 In the course of my visits I did not fail to examine 
 the precious monuments of that city, formerly the 
 capital of the world, and now the principal seat of the 
 Catholic religion. I shall not dwell on the chef -d'oeu- 
 vres known to everybody, but shall confine myself to 
 an expression of the effect produced on my mind and 
 senses by the view of St. Peter's of Koine. 
 
 I was fifty-two when I first saw this temple ; from 
 the age of reason to that time, I had heard it spoken 
 of with enthusiasm; I had read the historians and 
 travellers by whom it is described in a suitable manner. 
 I imagined, therefore, that on seeing it myself my sur- 
 prise would be diminished by anticipation; but it so 
 happeued that all the descriptions fell below the actual 
 impression it made on me; and that everything which, 
 when at a distance, appeared to me described with 
 exaggeration, rose in grandeur when I actually viewed 
 it. I am no connoisseur in architecture, and I shall 
 not attempt to make a display of terms of art to ex- 
 plain the cause of the delight which I felt; but I am 
 certain that it was the effect of the accuracy of propor- 
 tion displayed throughout such an immense extent. 
 If the objects of construction and ornament excite 
 our admiration, the sanctuary of that church is in an 
 equal degree productive of devotion. The bodies of
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 327 
 
 St. Peter and St. Paul repose in the vaults of the 
 chief altar; and the Romans, who are everything 
 hut devout, never fail to appear there frequently in 
 testimony of their veneration for the princes of the 
 apostles. 
 
 My landlord, for example, would not have failed, 
 for all the gold in the world, to attend prayers every 
 day in the cathedral. He was fond of pleasure, and 
 on returning home, as late as midnight, he would rec- 
 ollect that he had not visited his patrons. He lived 
 in a quarter of the town at a great distance from St. 
 Peter's; hut that did not signify: he always went, and 
 after prayers at the door returned home satisfied. 
 
 I must introduce this man to my readers, who pos- 
 sessed some singularities, hut who had an excellent 
 heart and was unequalled in sincerity. He was the 
 Abbé , the correspondent of several German bish- 
 ops on datary business : he furnished me with a suite 
 of apartments consisting of four rooms with eight 
 windows in front looking into the Corso, the finest 
 street in Rome, where everybody assembled to see the 
 races of Barbary horses, and to enjoy the masks in 
 Shrovetide. The Abbé had a wife and a charm- 
 ing daughter ; he was not rich, but he kept good 
 cheer, and I boarded with him. There was every day 
 on his table a dish made by himself, and which he 
 never failed to announce to his guests as a dish for the 
 advocate Goldoni, dressed by the hands of his servant 
 
 ; adding, that nobody should touch it without the 
 
 advocate's permission. He gave concerts : Miss 
 
 sung delightfully, and she was seconded by voices and 
 instruments of the first merit, which in Rome may be 
 found in abundance in all classes and all ranks. 
 
 These parties of pleasure were always, according to
 
 328 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the account of my dear abbé, ordered for the advocate 
 Goldoni, and I could not vex him more than by dining 
 out or passing the evening in any other house. One 
 day, when I came home to tell him that I had engaged 
 to dine out, he wished himself at the devil and scolded 
 my wife. "Nobody shall eat,"' said he, "of the dish 
 which I prepared for the advocate Goldoni." He then 
 entered his kitchen, and, looking with a distressed air 
 at the delicious dish which he had taken so much 
 pleasure in preparing, he was at last seized with a tit 
 of rage and threw the stewpan into the court. On 
 my return home in the evening the abbé was in bed 
 and refused to see me. Everybody laughed, but I felt 
 very uneasy; however, the servant at that instant 
 having delivered me an invitation to go next day to 
 the rehearsal of my piece, and that interesting me 
 considerably more than the other circumstance, I soon 
 forgot the abbé, and slept very tranquilly. 
 
 I repaired to Count 's to be present at the re- 
 hearsal of my piece. The comedians were there : they 
 had studied their parts, and got them by heart. I was 
 flattered by their attention, and I resolved to second 
 their zeal and give them all the assistance in my 
 p< >wer. They began ; Donna Placida and Donna Lui- 
 gia ; these female parts were acted by two young 
 Romans, a journeyman barber and a journeyman 
 carpenter. Good Heaven ! what extravagant declama- 
 tion ! what awkward gestures ! No truth, — no intel- 
 ligence. I ventured to speak in general terms of the 
 bad taste of their mode of declamation. Punch, who 
 was always the orator of this company, replied very 
 briskly, " Every one has his manner, sir, and this 
 happens to be ours." I formed my resolution in 
 silence : I merely observed to them that the piece ap-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. ■ 329 
 
 peared to me to be too long, and this was the only 
 point in which we were agreed. I abridged it at least 
 a good third, to spare me the trouble of hearing it; 
 and, tiresome as the task was, I was present at every 
 one of the rehearsals, even at the last one in the 
 theatre. 
 
 All the theatres are opened in Rome on the same 
 day, the 26th of December. I was tempted not to go, 
 but the count had destined me a place in his box and 
 I could not decently refuse to be present. I went 
 accordingly, and found the house fully lighted and the 
 curtain about to be drawn. There were, at most, 
 not more than a hundred persons in the boxes and 
 thirty in the pit. I had been informed beforehand 
 that the Tordiuona theatre was the resort of coal- 
 heavers and sailors, and that, without Punch, none of 
 the lovers of farce would attend. Still, however, I 
 was inclined to believe that an author sent for ex- 
 pressly from Venice would excite cariosity and attract 
 spectators from the centre of the town ; but my actors 
 were sufficiently known in Rome. When the curtain 
 was drawn the actors made their appearance, and 
 played in the same manner as they had rehearsed. 
 The public became impatient aud asked for Punch, 
 and the piece went on worse and worse. I could bear 
 it no longer ; I began to feel myself growing unwell, 
 and I asked the count's permission to withdraw, 
 which he readily granted me, and even made me an 
 offer of his coach. I quitted the theatre of Tordiuona 
 and went to join my wife, who was in that of 
 Aliberti. 
 
 My wife, foreseeing the failure of my piece as well 
 as myself, had gone to the opera with the daughter of 
 my landlord. On my entering their box they per-
 
 330 • MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ceived, by my countenance, the chagrin which I felt, 
 without my having spoken to them. " Console your- 
 self," said the young lady to me, laughing, "things 
 are not better here : the music does not please at all, — 
 there is not one agreeable air, recitative, or ritornello ; 
 Buranello has sadly forgot himself this time." She 
 was skilled in music and capable of judging for herself; 
 and I saw that everybody there was of her opinion. 
 
 The pit of Home is dreadful ; the abbés decide in a 
 vigorous and noisy manner; there are no guards or 
 police ; and hisses, cries, laughter, and invectives re- 
 sound from all quarters of the house. But it must be 
 owned that he who pleases the churchmen may deem 
 himself fortunate. I was at the first representation of 
 the " Ciccio of Mayo" in the same theatre, and the ap- 
 plauses were as violent as the censures had formerly 
 been. A part of the pit went out at the close of the 
 entertainment, to conduct the musician home in tri- 
 umph, and the remainder of the audience stayed in 
 the theatre, calling out without intermission, u Viva 
 Mayo ! " till every candle was burnt to the socket. 
 What would have become of me, had I remained at 
 Tordinona till the conclusion of my piece ! I trembled 
 
 when I thought of this. I called on Count next 
 
 day. fully determined never to expose myself again to 
 a similar danger. Fortunately I had to do with a just 
 and reasonable man, who himself saw the impossibility 
 of deriving any advantage from his comedians without 
 allowing them to proceed in their own way. I shall 
 state, in a few words, the arrangement to which we 
 were obliged to have recourse. 
 
 It was agreed that the Neapolitans should give their 
 usual sketches diversified with musical interludes, the 
 subjects of which I should arrange from parodied airs ;
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 661 
 
 and this project was in a few flays carried into execu- 
 tion. We found the best scores of my comic operas in 
 the music shops. Rome is a nursery of singers. We 
 
 procured two g 1 and six tolerable ones. The first 
 
 interlude we gave was " Areifanfano Re di Pazzi," the 
 music by Buranello. This little spectacle afforded 
 great pleasure, and the theatre of Tordinona succeeded 
 in a way that prevented the count from being a great 
 loser. I had failed in Tordinona, and this was a mor- 
 tifying chagrin for me; but I was indemnified by the 
 actors of Capranica. This theatre, which for several 
 years had devoted itself to my pieces, was then acting 
 the comedy of " Pamela." The play was bo well acted 
 and afforded such pleasure, that it alone supported the 
 theatre from its opening to^the close, that is, from the 
 26th of December to Shrove Tuesday. 
 
 Every time that I went was a new triumph for me. 
 The actors of Capranica, whom I had extolled to the 
 skies because they were deserving of it, entreated me 
 to have the goodness to compose a piece for their the- 
 atre. They were in no want of a comedy from me, 
 because they had all those which I printed every year 
 1o choose from ; but it was a kindness they wished to 
 show me by way of gratitude, for the profits which 
 they had derived from my works. I consented To 
 gratify their desire without appearing to have any idea 
 «;f their intention. I asked them if they had any sub- 
 ject to give me which might be agreeable to them. 
 They proposed the continuation of ' ' Pamela." I prom- 
 ised to furnish them with it before my departure : I 
 kept my word and they were satisfied : I was not less 
 so with the noble and generous manner in which they 
 recompensed me for my trouble. This comedy appears 
 in the collection of my works under the title of "Pamela
 
 332 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Maritata." I did not witness the representation of this 
 piece ; I learned, however, that its success was less brill- 
 iant than that of the preceding part of " Pamela/' and 
 this did not astonish me. There was more study and 
 refinement in the second, and more interest and action 
 in the first. The one was adapted for the theatre and 
 the other for the closet. I Leg pardon of those who 
 commissioned it, if I disappointed them in their views. 
 I gave them the choice of their subject, and I cannot 
 reproach myself with having neglected it. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The carnival begins almost universally throughout 
 all Italy, toward the end of December or beginning of 
 January. At Rome the time of gayety or folly, dis- 
 tinguished for the liberties of the masks, does not 
 commence till Shrovetide ; the mask is only tolerated 
 from two to five o'clock in the afternoon. At night- 
 fall every person ought to appear without a mask ; and 
 it may be said that the carnival of Rome lasts only 
 .twenty-four hours, but this short time is admirably 
 well employed. It is impossible to form an idea of 
 the brilliancy and magnificence of these eight days. 
 Throughout the whole length of the Corso four rows of 
 richly decorated carriages are to be seen; the two lat- 
 eral rows are merely spectators of the two which pass 
 up and down in the middle. A number of masks on 
 foot, by no means of the lower orders, ran about along 
 the pavement singing and uttering every sort of drollery 
 and buffoonery, and throwing profusion of sweetmeats 
 into the carriages, which return the volleys with inter- 
 est ; so that in the evening the streets are covered with 
 brayed sugar. In the same place and during the same
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 333 
 
 days the horse-racing takes place for a prize of a piece 
 of stuff, of gold or silver. The horses are free, and 
 without guides ; but, trained to the course, irritated by 
 the points of steel which goad them, and animated by 
 the shouts and clapping of hands of the multitude, 
 they start of their own accord from the palace of 
 St Mark, and run to the gates of the city, where 
 they are stopped, when the prize is adjudged to the 
 foremost. 
 
 I was fortunate enough to enjoy this delightful sight 
 without leaving my room ; my landlord destined a 
 balcony for me in the hall of his apartments, and 
 fixed a label in large letters over it containing these 
 words: " Balcony for the Advocate Goldoni." There 
 were but eight windows, and the Abbe had in- 
 vited sixty individuals. Those who entered paid no 
 attention to the placard ; every one endeavored to get 
 the first seat, and my poor abbé was very much em- 
 barrassed to keep a place for me. I could have gone 
 into my own room, with his wife and my own, but 
 he would not hear of such a thing, and insisted on my 
 coming to the hall. On entering I found every corner 
 full, but, after some arrangement, I got a place. On 
 the appearance of ladies afterwards we were obliged to 
 give them the preference ; and I made way as well as 
 the rest, and remained without a place. The abbé, 
 quite in a fury, took me by the hand and dragged me 
 into the room, displaced his wife and daughter, and 
 pushed me, whether I would or not, to the front of the 
 balcony, where he seated himself beside me and con - 
 tinued to point out, from time to time, the carriages of 
 princes, princesses, and cardinals, whose coachmen he 
 knew, and to name the horses whose device he was 
 enabled to distinguish.
 
 334 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 "When all was over, the abbe's embarrassment be- 
 came serious; for none of the company thought of 
 going away. He had asked a number of them to sup- 
 per, and he did not recollect either the names or the 
 number of those whom he had invited. Among the 
 company were several musical amateurs ; and a vocal 
 and instrumental concert was struck up. Everything 
 went on well, but still nobody thought of going away. 
 "What was to be done ? The poor abbé came to me in 
 the utmost consternation, and consulted with me on 
 the subject of his embarrassment. " This is nothiug, 
 my friend," said I to him; ''you have committed a 
 piece of folly, and you must pay for it." "But then, 
 forty or fifty — " "Courage, my dear abbé." said I, 
 "courage; send for violins; cover a little sideboard 
 with all expedition : set the company a dancing and 
 extricate yourself the best way you can." He ap- 
 proved of my proposal; the ball was given; the re- 
 freshments were found sufficient ; the night was spent 
 brilliantly, and everybody went away well pleased. 
 
 We were near the close of the carnival, and we spent 
 these last days of gayety with one another in the most 
 agreeable manner. On the arrival of Lent we changed 
 decorations, but we did not amuse ourselves the less. 
 Everywhere music and card-tables were to be found. 
 The most common game was mouche, called the Beast. 
 I remarked there a degree of politeness towards women 
 which I have never elsewhere observed. If a lady is 
 in danger of being the beast, a small card is played to 
 save her from this disagreeable predicament. 
 
 I quitted Rome on the 2d of August, to the great 
 regret of my host, from whom I experienced the great- 
 est kindness. He never ceased to write to me, and 
 he sent me every year Roman almanacs to the day
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. ôoO 
 
 of his death. In returning to my country I took the 
 road through Tuscany, and I felt an infinite pleas- 
 ure in seeing again that delightful country, where for 
 four years I had been so agreeably occupied. I saw 
 
 nearly all my old friends. I turned off a little from 
 my road to revisit Pisa, Leghorn, and Lucca. I began 
 to hid adieu to Italy, without knowing that I was to 
 quit it forever. 
 
 I had scarcely time to breathe when I was again 
 summoned to labor. I arrived on the first day of Sep- 
 tember, and the theatre was to be opened on the 4th 
 of the following month. I had done nothing yet. I 
 was too agreeably occupied at Rome to find leisure to 
 write. I was laborious; but I have always been fond 
 of pleasure, and, withoutrlosing sight of my engage- 
 ments, I availed myself of my moments of liberty. I 
 knew that I possessed great facility, and I always la- 
 bored with more ardor when I was limited in point of 
 time. 
 
 It must also be owned that time, experience, and 
 habit had so familiarized me with the art of comedy, 
 that, after inventing the subjects and selecting the 
 characters, all the rest was mere routine for me. At 
 first I went through four operations before finishing the 
 composition and correction of a piece. First operation : 
 the plan, with the division, three principal parts, the 
 exposition, the intrigue, and the winding-up. Second 
 operation : the division of the action into acts and 
 scenes. Third : the dialogue of the most interesting 
 scenes. Fourth : the geueral dialogue of the whole of 
 the piece. It frequently happened that, in this last 
 operation, I changed all that I had done in my second 
 and third ; for ideas succeed one another ; one scene 
 produces another ; one chance expression furnishes a
 
 336 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 new thought. After some time I became enabled to 
 reduce the four operations to one alone ; having the 
 plan and the three divisions in my head, I began at 
 once, Act the First, Scene the First, and proceeded 
 straight on to the conclusion, with this maxim always 
 in view, that all the lines ought to terminate in a fixed 
 point, that is, in the winding-up of the action, which is 
 the principal part for which all the machines are put in 
 motion. I have rarely been disappointed in my catas- 
 trophies. This I may boldly say, as it has been uni- 
 versally allowed, and the matter seems to me by no 
 means attended with difficulty. It is very easy to have 
 a fortunate winding-up, when it has been well prepared 
 in the beginning of the piece, and never lost sight of 
 in the course of the work. 
 
 I began then, and finished in fifteen days, a com- 
 edy of three acts, in prose, entitled " Gl' innamorati" 
 (The. Lovers). The title promised nothing new, for 
 there are few plays without love ; but I knew none 
 where the lovers resemble those which I drew in this. 
 Lr.ve would be the most dreadful scourge on the face 
 of the earth, were all lovers as impassioned and miser- 
 able as the two principal characters of my comedy. I 
 knew the originals, however, and had seen them at 
 Rome, where I was the confidant of both. I was the 
 witness of their passion and affection, and frequently of 
 their fits of raving and ridiculous transports. I had 
 more than once witnessed their quarrels, cries, and des- 
 peration, with torn handkerchiefs, broken glasses, and 
 knives drawn. My lovers are extravagant, but they 
 are not the less true. I am willing to allow that there 
 is more truth than probability in this work ; but, from 
 the certainty of the fact, I imagined it possible to rep- 
 resent a picture which should dispose some to laugh,
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 337 
 
 and inspire others with fear. Such a subject in France 
 would not have been supportable. In Italy it was con- 
 sidered somewhat exaggerated, and I heard several per- 
 sons of my acquaintance boast of having been nearly 
 in the same situation. I was nut wrong then in paint- 
 ing, in strong colors, the follies of love in a country 
 where the heart and the head are more than anywhere 
 else heated by the power of the climate. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 With " La Donna Stravagaute " (The Capricious 
 Woman) we opened the carnival of 1760. The prin- 
 cipal character of the piece was so wicked, that the 
 women would not have allowed it to be natural, and 
 I was obliged, therefore, to say that it was pure in- 
 vention. This piece was pretty successful, and would 
 have been more so, but Madame Bresciani, whose nat- 
 ural disposition was a little capricious, imagined her- 
 self portrayed in it, and the work suffered from her ill 
 humor. I soon made reparation for my injuries to- 
 wards this excellent actress. I composed a Venetian 
 piece, entitled " Le Baruffe Chiozzote" (The Dis- 
 putes of the People of Chiozza). This low comedy 
 produced an admirable effect. Madame Bresciani, 
 notwithstanding her Tuscan accent, had acquired the 
 Venetian manners and pronunciation so well, that she 
 afforded as much pleasure in low as in genteel comedy. 
 I had been coadjutor of the criminal chancellor at 
 Chiozza in my youth ; an office corresponding with 
 that of substitute of the lieutenant-criminel. My situ- 
 ation brought me in contact with that numerous and 
 tumultuous population of fishermen, sailors, and low 
 women, whose only place of assemblage was the open
 
 338 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 street. I knew their manners, their singular language, 
 their gayety, and their malice ; I was enabled to paint 
 them accurately ; and the capital, which is only eight 
 leagues distant from that town, was perfectly well 
 acquainted with my originals. The piece had the 
 most brilliant success ; and with it we closed the car- 
 nival. 
 
 On the Ash -"Wednesday following, I was at one of 
 those spare suppers with which our Venetian epicures 
 commence their Lent collations. We had every fish 
 which the Adriatic Sea or the Lake di Garda could 
 supply. The conversation turned on plays, and the 
 modesty of the author, who was one of the guests, was 
 not spared. Wearied with hearing the same thing over 
 and over again, and by way of putting a stop to com- 
 pliments and eulogies without end, I imparted to the 
 society a project which I had just conceived. The wine 
 and other liquors had elevated the minds of the com- 
 pany ; but they became instantly silent, and listened 
 attentively to me. It was a new edition of my " The- 
 atre " which I wished to speak to them about. I en- 
 deavored to be as brief as possible ; but I said enough 
 to make my meaning understood. I was applauded 
 and encouraged, and paper and ink were sent for. The 
 party was composed of eighteen individuals, without in- 
 cluding myself ; a subscription-paper was immediately 
 drawn up ; each individual subscribed for ten copies ; 
 and by this manœuvre I procured a hundred and eighty 
 subscriptions. This was the origin of my Pasquali 
 edition, of which I have spoken enough in the Preface 
 to these Memoirs. I will not exhaust the reader's pa- 
 tience further at present, but proceed to communicate 
 a letter which I received some days afterwards from 
 Ferney.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 339 
 
 Perhaps you may imagine it was from M. de Vol- 
 taire. In that case you are mistaken. I have received 
 several letters from that great and wonderful man; 
 but at that time I had not the honor to correspond 
 with him. 
 
 The letter of which I am speaking was signed Poin- 
 sinet. I knew nothing of him, but he announced him- 
 self as an author. He spoke of several pieces com- 
 posed by him for the comic opera at Paris : he said 
 he was on a visit to his friend, at Ferney, from whom 
 he had instructions to mention a number of things ; 
 and he requested me to return an answer to him at 
 Paris. 
 
 He wrote to me on the subject of a translation of all 
 my theatrical works into French, which he had in con- 
 templation. He asked me bluntly, and without any 
 ceremony, for the manuscripts of my pieces not yet 
 printed, and for the communication of any anecdotes 
 respecting myself. I was at first induced to believe 
 myself honored in the wish expressed by a French au- 
 thor, to enter upon a translation of my works ; but I 
 could not help thinking his demands a little premature: 
 and, being personally unacquainted with him, I returned 
 an answer, couched in respectful terms, but sufficient 
 to dissuade him from his undertaking. 
 
 I informed M. Poinsinet, that I was engaged in a 
 new edition, with corrections and alterations, and that 
 my pieces were, besides, full of the diiferent Italian di- 
 alects, which rendered it almost impossible for a stran- 
 ger to execute a translation of my " Theatre." 
 
 I thought this sufficient : by no means ; for I re- 
 ceived à second letter from the same author, dated from 
 Paris : "I shall expect from you, sir, the changes and 
 corrections which you propose to make in your new
 
 340 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 edition. With respect to the different Italian dialects, 
 do not alarm yourself; I have a servant who has gone 
 over all Italy, and can explain them to me to your 
 satisfaction." I was very highly offended at this pro- 
 posal, and supposed that the French author was laugh- 
 ing at me. I went instantly to Count de Baschi, the 
 French ambassador at Venice, and communicated to 
 him the two letters of M. de Poinsinet, requesting him 
 to inform me what sort of a man he was. 
 
 I do not recollect what his excellency told me with 
 respect to M. Poinsinet, but he delivered me a letter 
 which he had received with the despatches from his 
 court. This was a very agreeable piece of news for 
 me, and I shall proceed to give an account of it. 
 
 The letter delivered to me by the French ambassa- 
 dor was from M. Zanuzzi, the principal actor of the 
 Italian theatre at Paris. This man, equally respecta- 
 ble for his character and his talents, had carried with 
 him, into France, the manuscript of my comedy, en- 
 titled " Harlequin's Child Lost and Found." This 
 piece he had presented to his companions, by whom it 
 was approved of and acted. It had given great pleas- 
 ure, he told me, and had confirmed the reputation 
 long enjoyed by my works in that country, where a 
 desire was felt to have me. 
 
 M. Zanuzzi, after this introduction, informed me 
 that he was empowered by the principal gentlemen of 
 the king's bedchamber, intrusted with the regulation 
 of theatrical entertainments, to offer me an engage- 
 ment for two years, with an honorable salary. 
 
 Count Baschi described to me, at the same time, 
 the eagerness which the Duke d'Aumont, the first gen- 
 tleman of the chamber on duty, displayed to procure 
 me ; and he added, that, in case of any difficulty, he
 
 CARLO COLDOXI. 341 
 
 would make a demand in form to the government of 
 the republic. 
 
 For a long time I had been desirous of seeing Paris, 
 and I was at first tempted to answer in the affirmative ; 
 hut I did not feel myself exactly at liberty to follow 
 my own inclination exclusively, and I demanded some 
 time for consideration. 
 
 I was in the receipt of a pension from the Duke of 
 Parma, and I had an engagement at Venice. I was, 
 therefore, under the necessity of asking the prince's 
 permission, and obtaining the consent of the noble 
 Venetian who was the proprietor of the theatre of 
 St. Luke. Neither of these I considered as difficult 
 to obtain ; but I loved my country, where I was cher- 
 ished, caressed, and applauded. The criticisms against 
 me had ceased, and I was in the enjoyment of a delight- 
 ful tranquillity. 
 
 The engagement in France was only for two years ; 
 but I could easily see, that when once expatriated, I 
 should find it very difficult to return. My situation 
 was precarious, and required the exertion of painful 
 and assiduous labors, and I trembled at the dreary days 
 of old age, when our powers diminish and our wants 
 increase. 
 
 I spoke to my friends and protectors at Venice. I 
 explained to them that I did not look upon my journey 
 to France in the light of a journey of mere pleasure, 
 but that I was prompted to accept of it from the neces- 
 sity of securing to myself an establishment. 
 
 I added, to those who seemed desirous of retaining 
 me at Venice, that, as an advocate, I could pretend 
 to every sort of employment, and even to a place in the 
 magistracy ; and I concluded my harangue with a 
 sincere and decisive declaration, that, if thev would
 
 342, MEMOIRS OF 
 
 undertake to secure me an establishment at Venice, 
 either under the title of office or pension, I should 
 prefer my country to the whole universe. 
 
 I was listened to with attention and interest. My 
 reflections were approved of as just, and my behavior 
 considered respectful. Every one untertook to en- 
 deavor to satisfy me. Many meetings were held on 
 my account; and the following is the result of them. 
 
 In a republican state favors are only granted by a 
 majority of votes. Those who demand them must 
 wait a long time before they can be balloted ; and 
 with respect to pensions, when there is any competi- 
 tion, the useful arts are always preferred to agreeable 
 talents. This was enough to determine me to renounce 
 all expectations from this quarter. 
 
 I wrote to Parma, and obtained the desired permis- 
 sion. With a little effort I overcame the opposition 
 of the proprietor of the theatre of St. Luke ; and when 
 I was at full liberty, I engaged with the French am- 
 bassador, aud wrote in consequence to M. Zanuzzi at 
 Paris. It was but just, however, that I should' allow my 
 actors and their master time to provide themselves with 
 an author, and I fixed my departure from Venice for 
 the month of April, 1761. 
 
 I then set out from Venice with my wife and 
 nephew. On arriving at Bologna, I fell sick. I was 
 forced to compose a comic opera, which partook 
 strongly of my fever. Fortunately, the opera only 
 was buried. On recovering my health, I continued my 
 journey. I passed through Modena, where I merely 
 renewed my power of attorney to my notary on account 
 of the assignment to my nephew, and next day I set 
 off for Parma. I passed eight days in that town very 
 agreeably. I had dedicated my new edition to the
 
 CARLO GOLDÔNI. 343 
 
 Infante Don Philip : I had the honor to present him 
 With the two first volumes; and I kissed their royal 
 highnesses' hands. I then saw. for the first time, the 
 Infante Don Fernando, at that time hereditary prince, 
 and now reigning duke. He did inè the honor to con- 
 verse with me, and to congratulate me on my journey 
 to France. " You are very fortunate," said he; " you 
 Will see the king my grandfather." I augured, from his 
 gentleness, that this prince would one day turn out the 
 delight of his subjects : and I have not heen mistaken. 
 The Infante Don Fernando is adored by his people, and 
 the august archduchess, his spouse, has carried the 
 public felicity and the glory of this government to 
 their utmost height. 
 
 I had volumes with me to present to her highness 
 the Princess Henrietta of Modena, Duchess Dowager of 
 Parma, and latterly Landgravine of D'Armstadt. The 
 princess, who resided at Borgo San Domino, between 
 Parma and Piacenza, was then at Corte Maggiore, 
 her country-house. I went several miles out of my 
 road to pay my court to her. I met with a very 
 favorable reception, and was honored with comfortable 
 lodgings for myself and people. We passed three 
 days there very delightfully. The ladies and gentle- 
 men of the court, who were in the habit of acting my 
 plays on the theatre of the landgravine, were anxious 
 to treat me with an entertainment ; but the heat was 
 excessive, and I was desirous of reaching Piacenza. 
 On arriving in that city, we were overpowered with 
 kind attentions and new pleasures. The Marquis 
 Casati, who was one of my subscribers, expected me 
 with impatience. We found everything which we 
 could wish for in his house ; excellent lodgings, good 
 cheer ; and delightful company. The marchioness and
 
 344 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 her daughter-in-law were studious in the extreme to 
 please us ; we remained there four days, and we could 
 hardly prevail on them to allow us to proceed ; hut we 
 had lost too much time already, and we had spent no 
 less than three months since leaving Venice. "Not- 
 withstanding, therefore, the insupportable heat, we 
 were obliged to set out again. 
 
 When at Piacenza, it became necessary to choose by 
 what road I should proceed to France. My wife was 
 desirous of seeing her relations before we quitted Italy ; 
 and I therefore preferred the road by Genoa to that of 
 Turin, for her sake. We passed eight days in a very 
 gay manner in the native place of my wife ; hut the 
 period of separation was attended with many sighs and 
 tears. It was the more distressing, as our relations 
 never expected to see us again. I promised to return 
 in two years, but they did not believe me. At last, 
 amidst adieus, embraces, tears, and cries, we embarked 
 in the felucca of the French courier, and set sail for 
 Antibes, steering along the shore which the Italians 
 call La Riviera di Genova. We were driven from the 
 roads by a hurricane, and almost cast away in doubling 
 Cape Noli. The unfavorable state of the weather pre- 
 vented us from proceeding on our voyage. The courier, 
 who durst not delay his journey, took a horse, and went 
 on by land, and exposed himself to the difficulty of 
 crossing mountains still more dangerous than the sea. 
 For forty-eight hours every idea of re-embarking was 
 out of the question. The sea still continuing boister- 
 ous, I went down to Nice, where the roads were practi- 
 cable. I quitted the felucca, and sought for a carriage. 
 We found one hy chance, which had arrived the day 
 before. It was the berlin which conveyed to Nice the 
 famous Mademoiselle Deschamps, on her escape from
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 345 
 
 the prison of Lyons. I was told a part of her story. 
 I slept in the room destined for her, and which she 
 refused to accept on account of a hug which she dis- 
 covered on entering it. I found the carriage very com- 
 fortable; and I bargained for my fare to Lyons, on 
 condition of being allowed to go by Marseilles, and to 
 stay there a few days. The driver belonged to that 
 country ; so that we had little difficulty in coming to an 
 agreement. I set out from Nice next day, and crossed 
 the Var, which separates France from Italy. Here I 
 reiterated my adieu to my own country, and invoked 
 the shade of Molière to be my guide in that of his.
 
 PART THE THIRD. 
 
 I. 
 
 X entering the kingdom of France, I was soon 
 struck with the French politeness. I had ex- 
 perienced several disagreeable circumstances at 
 the Italian custom-houses : but I was visited in 
 two minutes at the harrier of St. Laurent, near the Var, 
 and my trunks were not rummaged. On arriving at Ami- 
 bes, I received unspeakable attenion from the command- 
 ant of that frontier place. I wished to show him my 
 passport. ' ' I can dispense with that, sir," said he ; " you 
 are anxiously expected at Paris, and you must quicken 
 your journey." I proceeded onwards, and slept the first 
 night at Vidauban. Supper was brought in. We had no 
 soup on the table ; my wife required some, and my nephew 
 was also desirous of having it. On calling for it, we found 
 that no person takes soup in France in the evening. 
 My nephew maintained that supper took its name from 
 soup, and that consequently there ought to be soup at 
 every supper. The landlord, who understood nothing 
 of these distinctions, made his bow, and went out. 
 
 My young man was correct in the main, and I amused 
 myself in entering on a short dissertation respecting 
 the etymology of supper and the suppression of soup. 
 " The ancients," said I, u made only one meal a day,
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 347 
 
 the cœna, which was served up in the evening ; and as 
 this repast always began with soup, the French changed 
 the word ccena into supper. In progress of time luxury 
 and gluttony multiplied the number of meals; soup 
 was taken from the sapper, and added to the dinner, 
 and the ccena is now in France merely a supper with- 
 out soup." My nephew, who kept a little journal of 
 our travels, did not fail to enter in his memorandum- 
 book this piece of erudition of mine, which, however 
 whimsical it may appear, is not destitute of truth. 
 
 We set out next day from Vidauban at an early hoar, 
 and arrived in the evening at Marseilles. M. Cornet, 
 the Venetian consul in this town, waited on us without 
 delay ', he offered us apartments in his house, which, 
 from a sense of delicacy, we were induced to refuse ; 
 but, being tormented in the course of the night by the 
 insupportable vermin which sting and infect at the 
 same time, we were obliged to accept of the generous 
 offer of the brother of our gond friends of Venice. 
 
 We enjoyed the sight of Marseilles for six days. Its 
 situation is agreeable ; it carries on a rich commerce ; 
 its inhabitants are very amiable, and the port is a mas- 
 terpiece of nature and art. 
 
 Continuing our journey, we passed through Aix. 
 We merely passed in a carnage on the superb prome- 
 nade called the Cours ; and we arrived at an early hour 
 at Avignon. 
 
 I had been now four months from Venice. Part of 
 the time I was confined to my bed at Bologna, but I 
 had taken a great deal of amusement since my recovery, 
 and I began to be afraid lest the slowness of my jour- 
 ney should injure me in the minds of those who were 
 expecting me at Paris. On arriving at Lyons, I found 
 a letter from M. Zanuzzi lying there for me ; it was
 
 348 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 full of reproaches, somewhat keen I must own, but 
 not so sharp as I deserved. Man is an inconceivable 
 
 and indefinable being-. I cannot explain to myself the 
 motives which sometimes induce me to act against my 
 principles and against my interest. With the best in- 
 tentions in the world to give myself entirely up to 
 whatever I am interested in, I am stopped or turned 
 from my road by the merest trifles. An innocent 
 pleasure, a piece of respectful complaisance, a feeling 
 of curiosity, a friendly advice, an engagement of little 
 moment, are none of them to be considered as vicious ; 
 but there are cases and circumstances in which what- 
 ever withdraws the mind from what it is employed on 
 may be considered dangerous : and I have never been 
 able to shut my mind against yielding to these seduc- 
 tions. I ought to have set out from Lyons the instant 
 after I received that letter: but how could I possibly 
 quit one of the most beautiful cities in France without 
 viewing it ? Could I omit visiting those manufactories 
 which supply Europe with their stuffs and their de- 
 signs ? I lodged in the royal park, and remained there 
 ten days ; did it require ten days. I may be ashed, to 
 examine what was worth observation in Lyons? No : 
 but that time was hardly sufficient to allow me to 
 accept all the dinners and suppers which those rich 
 manufacturers vied with each other in giving me. Be- 
 sides, I injured no person. My salary was not to com- 
 mence till my arrivai in Paris : and supposing the 
 Italian comedians to be in want of me, I was certain 
 that by activity I should be enabled to indemnify them 
 on my arrival. But this want was at an end ; for, 
 during my journey, the comic opera had been united to 
 the Italian comedy ; the new branch gained ground on 
 the old ; and the Italians, who were before the support
 
 CARLO GOLDOKL 349 
 
 of this theatre, became only the accessories of the 
 entertainment. I was informed of this innovation at 
 Lyons, though not so minutely as to enable me to form 
 an idea of all the unpleasant circumstances with which 
 the change would affect me. I even imagined that my 
 countrymen would consider their honor at stake, would 
 vie in emulation with their new comrades, and I sup- 
 posed them perfectly enabled to sustain the conflict. 
 Animated by this confidence, with my usual gayety 
 and courage I took the road to the capital ; and the 
 beauty of the journey, and the fertility of the plains 
 throug-fi which I passed, filled my mind with the most 
 cheerful ideas and flattering hopes. 
 
 On arriving at Yillejuif, I found M. Zanuzzi, and 
 Madame Savi, the principal actress of the Italian com- 
 edy. They made my wife and myself take a place in 
 their carriage ; my nephew followed in miue ; and we 
 alighted at the Faubourg St. Denis, where they both 
 lodged in the same house. My arrival was celebrated 
 the same day by a very gallant and gay supper, to 
 which part of the Italian comedians were invited. "We 
 were fatigued, but we partook with pleasure of the de- 
 lights of a brilliant society, in which were blended the 
 French sallies with the noise of Italian conversation. 
 
 Restored after the fatigues of the journey by that 
 delicious nectar which may well gain for Burgundy the 
 name of the Land of Promise, I passed a sweet and 
 tranquil night. On awaking, my mind was in as 
 agreeable a state as it had been in during my dreams. 
 I was in Paris ; I was happy ; but I had yet seen 
 nothing, and I was dying to view the place. I spoke 
 to my friend and host. " We must begin," said he, 
 " with paying visits: we must wait for the carriage." 
 " By no means," said I; "I shall see nothing in a
 
 00 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 coach ; let us set out ou foot." " But the distance is 
 great." " Never mind it." " It is hot." " That can- 
 not be helped." In fact, the heat was this year equal 
 to that of Italy ; but it was a circumstance of little 
 moment for me. I was then only fifty-three ; I was 
 strong, healthy, and vigorous, and curiosity and impa- 
 tience lent me wings. 
 
 In crossing the Boulevards, I had a glimpse of that 
 vast promenade which surrounds the city, and affords 
 to passengers the coolness of the shade in summer, and 
 the heat of the sun in winter. I entered the Palais 
 Royal. What crowds ! what an assemblage of people 
 of every description ! what a charming rendezvous ! 
 what a delightful promenade Î But with what a sur- 
 prising view my senses and mind were struck on ap- 
 proaching the Tuileries ! I saw the whole extent of 
 that immense garden, which has nothing to be com- 
 pared with it in the universe ; and my eyes were unable 
 to measure the length of it. I hastily ran through its 
 alleys, its thickets, its terraces, basins, and borders. I 
 have seen very rich gardens, superb buildings, and 
 precious monuments ; but nothing can equal the mag- 
 nificence of the Tuileries. On leaving this enchant- 
 ing place I was struck with another spectacle, — - a 
 majestic river, numerous and convenient bridges, vast 
 quays, crowds of carriages, a perpetual throng of 
 people. I was stunned by the noise, fatigued with 
 the distance, and overpowered by the excessive heat. 
 I was bathed in perspiration without being aware 
 of it. 
 
 We crossed the Pont Royal, and entered the Hôtel 
 d'Aumout. The duke was at home. This principal 
 gentleman of the king's bedchamber, who was in his 
 year of duty, had sent for me to Paris ; and he received
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 351 
 
 me with kindness, and has always continued to honor me 
 with his favor. It was late, and we had not sufficient 
 time to pay all the visits which we projected. We called 
 a coach and drove to Mademoiselle Camilla Veronese's, 
 where we were expected to dinner. It was impossi- 
 ble to be more gay and amiable than Mademoiselle 
 Camilla. She acted waiting-maids in the Italian the- 
 atre, and she was the delight of Paris on the stage, 
 and of every society which had the felicity of enjoying 
 her company. We sat down to dinner. The guests 
 were numerous, the dinner delicious, and the company 
 amusing. We took coffee at table, and did not quit it 
 till we went to the theatre. 
 
 The Italian theatre was then in the street Mau- 
 conseil. It was the old" Hôtel de Bourgogne, where 
 Molière displayed his talents and skill. That I might 
 have a better opportunity of knowing my Italian ac- 
 tors, I took apartments near the theatre ; and in that 
 house I had the good fortune to possess a charming 
 neighbor whose company has always been highly use- 
 ful and agreeable to me. This was Madame Ricco- 
 boni, who, having renounced the theatre, delighted 
 Paris with her novels, which for purity of style, deli- 
 cacy of images, truth of passion, and the art of inter- 
 esting and amusing her readers at the same time, raised 
 her to a level with whatever was most valuable in 
 French literature. I applied to Madame Eiccoboni 
 to give me some preliminary account of my Italian 
 actors. She knew them thoroughly, and favored me 
 with a description which I afterwards discovered to 
 be perfectly correct and worthy of her candor and 
 discretion. 
 
 On the comic-opera days I observed an astonishing 
 crowd of people, and on other days the house almost
 
 où2 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 empty. This, however, did not alarm me. My dear 
 countrymen only gave well-known pieces, and outlines 
 of an indifferent description, such as I had reformed in 
 Italy. "I shall give," said I to myself, "character, 
 sentiment, plot, management, and style." I commu- 
 nicated my ideas to my comedians. Some of them 
 encouraged me to follow my plan, and others asked 
 only for farces. The first were lovers who were de- 
 sirous of written pieces ; the second, comic actors who, 
 unaccustomed to learn anything by heart, were am- 
 bitious of shining without taking the pains of studying. 
 I proposed to wait a little before commencing my task. 
 I demanded four months' time to examine the public 
 taste, to ascertain the mode of pleasing Paris ; and 
 during that time I did nothing but run about, pry into 
 everything, and enjoy myself. 
 
 Paris is a world of itself: everything there is on a 
 large scale, the good and bad both in abundance. 
 Whether you go to theatres, promenades, or places of 
 pleasure, you find every corner full. Even the churches 
 are crowded. In a town of eight hundred thousand 
 souls there must necessarily be more of both good and 
 bad people than anywhere else ; and it rests with our- 
 selves to make our choice. The debauchee will find it 
 easy to gratify his passions, and the virtuous man will 
 meet with encouragement in the exercise of his virtues. 
 I was neither so fortunate as to rank with the latter, 
 nor so wretched as to give myself up to irregularity. 
 I continued to live at Paris in my usual manner, fond 
 of decent pleasures, and esteeming worthy and honor- 
 able men. Every day I felt myself more and more 
 confounded in the ranks, the classes, the manners of 
 living, and the different modes of thinking. I no 
 longer knew what I was, what I wished for, or what I
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 353 
 
 was becoming. I was quite absorbed in the vortex. I 
 saw the necessity of returning to myself, but I could 
 find no means of doing so, or rather, I did not attempt 
 it. Fortunately for me, the court went to Fontaine- 
 bleau, whither the different actors were obliged to 
 repair. I followed them with my little family, and I 
 found, in this delightful abode, the repose and tran- 
 quillity which I had sacrificed to the amusement of the 
 capital. I saw every day the royal family, the princes 
 of the blood, the grandees of the kingdom, the French 
 and foreign ministers, all assembled at the castle, and 
 was present at the royal dinners ; they followed the court 
 to mass, to the theatre, to hunting-parties, without 
 embarrassment, constraint, or confusion. 
 
 In the course of this visit the Italians gave u Harle- 
 quin's Child Lost and Found." This piece, which was 
 very successful at Paris, did not meet with the like suc- 
 cess at Fontainebleau. It was an outline ; the comedi- 
 ans thought proper to incorporate some of the jokes of 
 the " Coca Imaginaire,' 7 which displeased the court, 
 and ruined the piece. This is the great inconvenience 
 of comedies of this description. The actor who plays 
 from his own head speaks sometimes at random, spoils 
 a scene, and damns a piece. I was not attached to 
 this work ; on the contrary, I have said enough in the 
 first part of these Memoirs, to prove in how little 
 estimation I held it ; but still I was sorry to see the 
 first piece of mine ever given at court unsuccessful. 
 This troublesome event proved still more strongly 
 the necessity of giving pieces fully written. I returned 
 to Paris with a firm and determined mind ; but I had 
 not to do with my comedians of Italy ; I was no 
 longer the master at Paris, as 1 had been in my own 
 country.
 
 354 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 II. 
 
 On returning to Paris I looked with another eye on 
 that immense city, its population, its amusements, and 
 its seductions. I had had time for reflection, and to 
 learn that the confusion in which everything appeared 
 at first to me proceeded neither from the nature nor 
 manners of the people, but from the curiosity and im- 
 patience to which my giddiness was attributable. I 
 was obliged frankly to own that it is impossible to 
 enjoy Paris, and be amused in it, without a sacrifice 
 of either time or tranquillity. I had formed, on my ar- 
 rival, too many acquaintances ; I proposed to preserve 
 them, but to enjoy them in moderation: and I des- 
 tined my mornings to labor and the rest of the day to 
 company. I took apartments at the Palais Royal ; 
 my study looked into the garden, which was very dif- 
 ferent then from what the late improvements have 
 made it, but which possessed peculiar beauties which 
 some people still regret. Notwithstanding my occu- 
 pation, I could not avoid bestowing a look every now 
 and then at that delightful alley which was animated 
 every hour by so many different objects. The break- 
 fasts at the Café de Foi (the Faith Coffee-House) were 
 taken under my window. People of every description 
 resorted there to repose and refresh themselves. I 
 overlooked also the famous chestnut-tree, called the 
 Tree of Cracow, round which the newsmongers used 
 to flock with their news, and to trace trendies, camps, 
 military positions, and divide Europe as their fancy 
 led them, with their canes on the sand. These vol- 
 untary abstractions were sometimes useful to me. 
 They afforded an agreeable repose to my mind, and I 
 returned to my labor with more vigor and more gayety.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 355 
 
 I was now preparing for my début ; and it was 
 incumbent on me to make my first appearance on the 
 French sta.çfe with some new production which might 
 correspond with the opinion of me previously enter- 
 tained by the public. My actors were still divided in 
 opinion. Some persisted in their preference of written 
 pieces, while others approved of outlines. A meeting 
 was called on my account, and at which I was present. 
 I showed them the indecency of introducing an author 
 without dialogue ; and it was agreed that I should 
 begin with a finished piece. I was now satisfied ; but 
 I still foresaw that the actors, who had lost the habit 
 of getting their characters by heart, without any mal- 
 ice or improper intention on their part, would second 
 my views very imperfectly. I found myself, there- 
 fore, under the necessity of confining my ideas, and 
 limiting myself to a subject of no great boldness of 
 conception, that I might not hazard a work which 
 should require too great accuracy in the execution, 
 flattering myself with the idea of bringing them grad- 
 ually to the reform which I had carried into effect in 
 Italy. With this view, I composed a comedy in three 
 acts, entitled " Paternal Love ; or, The Grateful Wait- 
 ing-Maid." It had only four representations. I wished 
 to take my departure immediately ; but how could I 
 leave Paris, which had so fascinated me ? My engage- 
 ment was for two years, and I was tempted to remain 
 the whole of the period. The most of the Italian 
 actors asked only for outlines: the public were accus- 
 tomed to them, the court suffered them, and why 
 should I have refused to comply with the established 
 practice ? " Well then," said I, " let us compose out- 
 lines, if they will have them : every sacrifice seems 
 nothing, every pain seems supportable for the pleas- 
 ure of remaining two years in Paris."
 
 356 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 It cannot bo said, however, that my amusements 
 prevented me from discharging my duty. In the space 
 of these two years I produced twenty-four pieces, the 
 titles of which, and their fate, are to be found in the 
 " Theatrical Almanac" (Almanach des Spectacles). 
 Eight of these pieces were successful, and they cost 
 me more labor than if I had written them entirely 
 out. I could only please by interesting situations, and 
 a comic humor artfully prepared and secured from 
 the caprices of the actors. I was more successful than 
 I could have expected ; but whatever was the success 
 of my pieces, I seldom went to see them. I preferred 
 good comedy, and frequented the French theatre for 
 the sake of amusement and instruction. I had a free 
 admission to the theatre : an honor conferred on me on 
 my arrival in Paris. This was the more flattering for 
 me, as nobody could then have foreseen that I would 
 one day be enrolled in the catalogue of their authors. 
 I found this national spectacle equally well supplied 
 with tragic and comic actors. The Parisians spoke 
 with enthusiasm of their departed actors of celebrity. 
 It was said that Nature had destroyed the moulds in 
 which she cast these great men ; but iu this they were 
 mistaken. Nature produces the mould, the model, and 
 the original at the same time, and renews them at 
 pleasure. This is the way in all ages : we always 
 regret the past, and complain of the present, — such is 
 human nature. 
 
 The first time I went to the French theatre " The 
 Misanthrope" was acted, and the part of Alceste was 
 performed by M. Grandval. This very able and very 
 popular and esteemed actor, having served out his time, 
 had retired on a pension. After a few years, he was 
 seized with a desire of making his appearance again on
 
 CARLO GOLDOXL 35/ 
 
 the stage, and this was the «lay when thai event took 
 place. He was excessively applauded at his first en- 
 trance; and it was easy to Bee the estimation in which 
 he was held by the public. But at a certain age " spiri- 
 tus promptus est, caro autem infirma" ; and this is the 
 reason why I did uot mention him before. Formypart, 
 I thought him excellent, and I preferred him to a num- 
 ber of others on account of his excellent voice; my ear 
 was not yet familiarized with the French language; I 
 lost a great deal in company, and still more at the the- 
 atre. Fortunately, I was acquainted with "The Misan- 
 thrope." It was the piece I esteemed the most in the 
 works of Molière, a piece of unequalled perfection, and 
 which, independently of the regularity of the plot and 
 the beauties of the composition, possesses the merit of 
 invention and novelty of character. The comic authors, 
 ancient and modern, before his time, brought the vices 
 and detects of humanity, in general, on the stage; 
 Molière was the first to ridicule the manners of his own 
 a<re and country. I saw with infinite pleasure the rep- 
 resentation at Paris of this comedy, which I had so 
 often read and admired in the closet. I did uot under- 
 stand all that the comedians uttered, and especially 
 those who displayed a volubility which, however much 
 applauded, was very painful to me; but I understood 
 enough to admire the precision, the dignity, and the 
 spirited action of those incomparable actors. "Ah!" 
 said I then to myself, "if I could only see one of my 
 pieces acted by such performers; the best of my pieces 
 is not equal to the worst of Molière; but the zeal and 
 activity of the French actors would do more for it than 
 I could expect from the Italians. 11 This is the school 
 of declamation : there is nothing forced in the action or 
 expression; feet, arms, and eyes, and mute scenes; all
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 9 St ' Si - Drooled by art under the 
 
 itun . [leftta /.he enchanted, 
 
 .sly for two things, either to he able to 
 oom] se] si tors, or 1 ne my country- 
 
 men capable of imitating them. Which would be the 
 most difficult 1 T....- atom oould determine 
 
 this difficulty. 
 
 In : i d ean time I was assiduous in my attendance 
 at the French theati _ : be- 
 
 fore. "The Father of a Family.'" by If. Diderot : a new 
 and successful comedy. 1 s g t rally said at Paris 
 that this was an imitation of the piece composed by me 
 under the same title, which was printed in my works. 
 ..t to the thear. -. bo g \ but 1 oould p e rce i ve no 
 my play. The public were unjust when 
 they accused this poet and philosopher of plagiarism, 
 is sus km was infused into them by a criticism 
 hit:.'. u Literary Y< .:" Ànnéf littéraire). Diderot 
 produced some his benne ■ entitled " The 
 
 N ..- rai S d ". ... F. in speaking of it in bis peri- 
 
 stated that there was a great resemblance 
 the French H rhe True Friend n of 
 
 ■ JdonL Frerou contrasted the French and Italian 
 scenes, and Iv - tived from the same 
 
 En concluding this article the journalist ob- 
 ..: the author o{ ~ The Natural Son" promised 
 : grw "Al'./ F that Guldom bad also 
 
 q a play with that title: and that it would be seen 
 hance tum out the same. M. 
 1 1 . . - far from Wing under th SE :y of cross- 
 
 A'.ps for comic subjects to relieve his mind with 
 s - upations. Three years afterwards 
 
 hega .. F ... ; ." which had no re- 
 
 gonist was a
 
 CABLO GOLDONL ■>■>.) 
 
 mild, wise, and prudent man, whose character and con- 
 duct were equally instructive and exemplary. Thai of 
 M. Diderot, on the other hand, was a harsh and severe 
 father, who pardoned nothing, and gave his malediction 
 to his son. He was one of those wretched beings who 
 exist in nature, but whom I should never have dared to 
 bring on the Btage. I did M. Diderot justice: I en- 
 deavored to undeceive those who supposed his " Father 
 of a Family" to be taken from mine; but I said noth- 
 ing respecting his " Natural Son." The author was 
 displeased with Freron and me; he wished to give vent 
 to his rage, and to let it tall on one or other of as. 
 The preference was given to me. He printed a " Dis- 
 course "ii Dramatic Poetry f n in which he treated me 
 somewhat harshly. "Charles Groldoni," he said, " bas 
 written in Italian a comedy, or rather a farce, in three 
 acts." In another place In- said, u ( iharles I roldoni has 
 composed some sixty tarées." It was easy to see thai 
 this light way of treating me and my works was ex- 
 pressive of the consideration in which he held them, 
 and that he called me Charles Goldoni as we name 
 Pierre le Roux in Rose and Colas. He is the only 
 French writer who did not honor me with his Kindness. 
 I was vexed to see a man possessed of such distin- 
 guished merit prejudiced against me. I did what I 
 could to have an opportunity of meeting him, not with 
 the view of complaining of his treatment of me, but to 
 convince him that. I did not deserve his Indignation. I 
 endeavored to procure an introduction to those houses 
 which he was in the habit of frequenting; but I was 
 never so fortunate as to tall in with him. At. length, 
 tired of waiting, I called upon him at lus own house. 
 I entend one day, escorted by M. Duni, win; was one 
 of his friends. After being announced and received,
 
 360 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the Italian musician presented me as a literary man of 
 his country, desirous of forming an acquaintance with 
 those who were at the head of French literature. M. 
 Diderot vainly endeavored to conceal the embarrassment 
 into which he was thrown by my introducer. He could 
 not, however, shrink from what the rules of politeness 
 and society prescribed in such a case. We spoke of 
 different matters, and at last the conversation fell on 
 dramatic works. Diderot honestly owned to me that 
 some of my pieces had caused him a deal of chagrin ; 
 I courageously answered him that I perceived this. 
 " You know, sir," said he, " what it is for a man to be 
 wounded in his most delicate part." " Yes, sir," replied 
 I, "I am aware of that; I understand you; but I have 
 nothing to reproach myself with." " Come, come," 
 said M. Duni, interrupting us, "these literary bicker- 
 ings ought not to be carried any further ; both of you 
 ought to follow Tasso's advice : — 
 
 ' Ogni trista memoria omai si taccia ; 
 E pongansi in obblio le andate cose.' 
 
 c Let no disagreeable remembrances be recalled ; and let every- 
 thing past be bnried in oblivion.' " 
 
 M. Diderot, who understood Italian sufficiently, 
 seemed to subscribe with a good grace to the advice 
 of the Italian poet : we finished our conversation with 
 reciprocal expressions of friendship, and both M. Duni 
 and myself parted from him very well satisfied with 
 what had taken place. 
 
 I have all my life endeavored to make up to those 
 who had either good or bad reasons for avoiding me ; 
 and whenever I have succeeded in gaining the esteem 
 of a man prepossessed against me, I have considered 
 that day as a day of triumph.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 361 
 
 On parting from M. Diderot, I also took leave of M. 
 Duui, and repaired to a literary assembly, of which I 
 was an associate, and where I was that day to dine. 
 This society was not numerous, as there were but nine 
 of us: M. de la Place, who edited the "Mercure de 
 France" ; M. de la Garde, who had the department of 
 theatrical criticism in the same work ; M. Saurin, of the 
 French Academy ; M. Louis, perpetual secretary of the 
 Royal Chirurgical Academy; the Abbé de la Porte, 
 author of several literary works ; M. Crebillon, the 
 younger; M. Favart, and M. Jouen. The last-men- 
 tioned was not distinguished for his talents, but famous 
 for the delicacies of his table. Each member of the 
 society received in turn the whole of the others in his 
 house, and gave a dinner* to them ; aud as the sittings 
 were held on Sundays, they were called Dominical 
 meetings, and we were called Dominicals. We had no 
 other regulations among us than those of good company ; 
 but it was agreed that no women should enter our meet- 
 ings. We were aware of their charms, and we dreaded 
 the soft enticements of the fair sex. Our Dominical 
 meeting was held one day at the hotel of the Marchion- 
 ess de Pompadour, of whom M. de la Garde was the 
 secretary. We were just sitting down to dinner, when 
 a carriage entered the court, in which we perceived a 
 female. We recognized in her an actress of the opera, 
 
 in high estimation for her talents, and distinguished foi- 
 es " o 
 
 her wit and amiable behavior in company. 
 
 Two of the members went down stairs and escorted 
 her up to us. On entering, she asked, in a jocular 
 manner, to be permitted to dine with us. Could we 
 refuse her a plate Ï Each of us would have given up 
 his own, and I should not have been the last to do 
 this. This lady was irresistibly engaging. In the
 
 362 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 course of the dinner she demanded to be admitted into 
 the society : and she arranged her peroration in so now 
 and singular a manner that she was received with 
 acclamation. During the dessert we looked at the 
 clock ; it was half past four.' Our new associate did 
 not act that day, Lut she was desirous of going to the 
 opera } and the society were almost all disposed to 
 accompany her. The only one who displayed no 
 eagerness to go was myself. 
 
 " Ah, M. Italian," said the lady, laughing, " you arc 
 not fond of French music then ? " "I possess no great 
 knowledge of it," said I; "I have never been at the 
 opera; but I hear a deal of singing wherever I go, 
 and all the airs only serve to disgust me." " Let 
 us see," said she, "if I can overcome any of your 
 prejudices against our music." She immediately began 
 to sing, and I felt myself delighted and enchanted. 
 What a charming voice ! It was not powerful, but 
 just, touching, and delightful. I was in ecstasy. 
 " Come," said she, " embrace me, and follow me to 
 the opera." I embraced her, and went to the opera 
 accordingly. I was at length present at this enter- 
 tainment, which several persons could have wished 
 me to see before everything else, and which I should 
 not, perhaps, have seen so soon, if it had not been for 
 this circumstance. The actress whom we had received 
 into our society took three of our brethren with her 
 into her box, and I seated myself with two others in 
 the amphitheatre. This part, which takes up a part 
 of the theatres in France, is in front of the stage, in 
 the form of a semicircle, and the seats, which are well 
 furnished and commodious, are raised in gradations 
 above one another. This is the best place in the house 
 for seeing and hearing. I was contented with my situ-
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 363 
 
 ation, and I pitied the audience in the pit, who were 
 on their feet, and closely crowded, and who were not 
 to blame for their impatience. The orchestra began, 
 and I found the harmony of the instruments of a su- 
 perior kind, and very accurate in point of execution. 
 But the overture appeared to me cold and languid: I 
 was sure it was not Kameau's; for I had heard his 
 overtures and ballet airs in Italy. The action com- 
 menced ; and, notwithstanding my favorable situation, 
 I could not hear a word. However, I patiently waited 
 for the airs, in the expectation that I should at least 
 be amused with the music. The dancers made their 
 appearance, and I imagined the act finished, but heard 
 not a single air. I spoke of this to my neighbor, who 
 laughed at me, and assured me that we had had six in 
 the different scenes which I had heard. "What!" 
 said I, " I am not deaf; the instruments never ceased 
 accompanying the voices, sometimes more loudly, and 
 sometimes more slowly than usual, but I took the whole 
 for recitative." " Look, look, there is Vestris," said 
 he, "the most elegant, able, and accomplished dancer 
 in Europe." I saw in reality, in a country-dance, this 
 shepherd of the Arno triumphing over the shepherds 
 of the Seine: but two minutes afterwards three charac- 
 ters sang all at the same time. This was a trio, which 
 I confounded, perhaps, in the same manner with the 
 recitative. The first act then closed. 
 
 As nothing takes place between the acts of the 
 French opera, they soon began the second act. I 
 heard the same music, and felt the same weariness. 
 I gave up altogether the drama and its accompani- 
 ments, and began to examine the entertainment taken 
 as a whole, which I thought surprising. The princi- 
 pal male and female dancers had arrived at an astonish-
 
 364 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ing pitch of perfection, and their suite was very numerous 
 and very elegant. The music of the choruses appeared 
 to me more agreeable than that of the drama. I recog- 
 nized the psalms of Corelli, Biffi, and Clari. The 
 decorations were superb, the machines well contrived, 
 and admirably executed. The dresses were very rich, 
 and the stage was always well filled with people. 
 Everything was beautiful, grand, and magnificent, ex- 
 cept the music. At the end of the drama there was a 
 sort of chacone sung by an actress who did not appear 
 among the characters of the drama, and seconded by 
 the music of the choruses and by dancing. This 
 agreeable surprise might have enlivened the piece ; but 
 it was a hymn rather than an air. When the curtain 
 fell, I was asked by all my acquaintances how I liked 
 the opera. My answer flew from my lips like light- 
 ning, " It is a paradise for the eyes, and a hell for the 
 ears."' This insolent and inconsiderate reply made 
 some laugh, and others turn up their noses. Two 
 gentlemen belonging to the king's chapel thought it 
 excellent. The author of the music was not for from 
 me, and perhaps overheard what I said. I was very 
 much concerned, for he was a worthy man. Requiescat 
 in pace! I was present some days afterwards at the 
 representation of u Castor and Pollux " ; and the drama, 
 which was perfectly well written, and acted with supe- 
 rior decorations, reconciled me a little with the French 
 opera. I soon perceived the difference between the 
 music of Eameau and that which had given me so much 
 displeasure. I was very intimate with that celebrated 
 composer, for whose talents and science I had the 
 highest consideration ; but we must be sincere. Ea- 
 meau distinguished himself, and produced a great revo- 
 lution in France in instrumental music ; but he made 
 no essential changes in vocal music.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 365 
 
 It was supposed that the French language was not 
 adapted to the new taste which it was wished to intro- 
 duce in singing. This was believed by Jean Jacques 
 Rousseau, as well as others ; and he was astonished 
 to see this error refuted in the music of the Chevalier 
 Gluck. But this learned German musician merely 
 paved the way for the introduction of Italian music, 
 and it was reserved for M. Piccini and M. Sacchini to 
 complete the reform which the French seem to enjoy 
 more and more every day. I have lengthened out this 
 digression without perceiving what I was about. I 
 am not a musician, but I am fond of impassioned 
 music; if an air affect or amuse me, I listen to it with 
 delight, and never examine whether it is French or 
 Italian. There is but one music in my opinion. 
 
 III. 
 
 I became every day more and more acquainted with 
 the advantages of Paris, and every day my attachment 
 to it increased. The two years of my engagement, 
 however, were drawing to a close, and I considered the 
 necessity of again changing my country as indispen- 
 sable. The Portuguese ambassador had employed me 
 for his court, and made me a present of a thousand 
 crowns for a small work which had been successful at 
 Lisbon. I had every reason for supposing that I should 
 not be refused in a country where theatrical entertain- 
 ments were then in vogue, and where talents were re- 
 warded. The Chevalier Tiepolo, the Venetian ambas- 
 sador, on the other hand, perpetually urged me to return 
 to my country, where I was beloved, and where my 
 return was warmly desired. His embassy was at an 
 end, and he would have taken me along with him, and
 
 366 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 maintained and protected me ; but he was dangerously 
 ill : he took his leave of the court, sinking under the 
 pressure of his illness, and went to Geneva to consult 
 the famous Tronchin, where he finished his days, to 
 the great regret of the republic and the French court, 
 by both of whom he was held in the highest estimation. 
 During this state of indecision a lucky star flew to 
 my assistance. I became acquainted with Mademoiselle 
 Sylvestre, reader to the late dauphiness, mother of 
 Louis XVI. This lady, the daughter of the principal 
 painter of Augustus, King of Poland and Elector of 
 Saxony, had been employed at Dresden in the educa- 
 tion of her august mistress, and enjoyed in France all 
 the credit to which her talents and good conduct so 
 properly entitled her. Mademoiselle Sylvestre, who 
 knew Italian thoroughly, was well acquainted with my 
 works, and being of a kind and obliging disposition, 
 took an interest in my welfare. I had spoken to her 
 of my attachment to Paris, and the regret with which 
 I should abandon it : and she engaged to mention me 
 at court, where my name was not unknown. Eight 
 days afterwards she sent for me to Versailles, whither 
 I repaired without delay. I alighted at the king's 
 small stables {petites écuries), where Mademoiselle 
 Sylvestre lived in family with her relations, who were 
 all in the service of the royal family. After a most 
 gracious, kind, and hearty reception, our first conver- 
 sation terminated in the f< blowing result ; and in tins 
 way an affair of great importance for me was begun 
 and ended on this fortunate day. The dauphiuess was 
 acquainted with me ; she had seen my pieces repre- 
 sented at Dresden ; she caused them to be read to her, 
 and her reader did not fail t<> embellish them, and to 
 throw in now and then something or other in favor of
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 367 
 
 the author. She succeeded so well with her mistress, 
 that this princess promised to honor me with her pro- 
 tection, and to attach me to the court. 
 
 The dauphiness could have wished to employ me in 
 the instruction of her children, bat they were too young 
 to attempt a f< ifeign language. The daughters of Louis 
 XV. had been taught the principles of the Italian lan- 
 guage by M. Hardiun, the king's librarian at Versailles. 
 They had a relish fur Italian literature, and the dau- 
 phiness, availing herself of this fortunate circumstance, 
 sent me to the Duchess of Narbonne, whom she had 
 prepossessed in my favor, that I might be introduced 
 to Madame Adelaide of France. The Duchess of Nar- 
 bonne then attended on lier, and is at present a lady 
 of honor. I had the honor of being acquainted with 
 the Duchess of Narbonne at the court of Parma. She 
 received me kindly, and presented me the same day to 
 her august mistress ; and I was instantly received into 
 the service of the French princesses. Xo salary was 
 mentioned, and I asked none. I was proud of so hon- 
 orable an employment, and sure of the kindness of my 
 august scholars. I took my departure, therefore, very 
 well pleased with what had taken place, and communi- 
 cated the adventure to my wife, who knew the value 
 of it as well as myself. I bade adieu to the Italian 
 theatre, which was not, perhaps, sorry at getting rid 
 of me, and I received with sincere pleasure the com- 
 pliments of all those who took an interest in my welfare. 
 
 The Chevalier Gradenigo, who succeeded M. Tiepolo 
 as Venetian ambassador, knew better than any other 
 person the consequence to which such a fortunate event 
 might lead. This illustrious patrician was the intimate 
 friend of the Duke de Chuiseul : he recommended me 
 to that minister, who was at the head of two of the
 
 368 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 most considerable departments, foreign affairs and war, 
 and who enjoyed, with great justice, the highest credit 
 at the court of France, and the utmost consideration 
 throughout the rest of Europe. With such an honor- 
 able employment and such powerful protection, I 
 ought to have made a brilliant fortune in France. If 
 I have only acquired a very moderate fortune, it has 
 been my own fault. I was at court, but I was not a 
 courtier. 
 
 Madame Adelaide was the first who took lessons in 
 the Italian language. I had not yet lodgings at Ver- 
 sailles ; she sent a post-chaise for me ; and it was in 
 one of those vehicles that I nearly lost my sight. I 
 was foolish enough to read in the chaise ; the book I 
 was then engaged with was Jean Jacques Rousseau's 
 letters from the Mountain, and I felt considerably in- 
 terested in it. One day I lost all at once the use c f my 
 eyes ; the book fell out of my hands, and I could not 
 even see to pick it up. I gave myself up for lost. I 
 still possessed, however, enough of the visual faculty 
 to enable me to distinguish the light; I got out of my 
 chaise, and proceeded to the apartments of Madame 
 Adelaide, which I entered quite disconcerted and in 
 the utmost agitation. The princess perceived my dis- 
 tress, and was kind enough to inquire the cause of it. 
 I durst not tell her of my situation ; I hoped I should 
 be able to discharge my duty in some way or other. I 
 found my seat in its place, and I seated myself as usual. 
 Having discovered the book I was to read, I opened it, 
 when, heavens ! everything appeared white to me. 
 I was thus at last forced to own my misfortune. It is 
 impossible to paint the goodness, sensibility, and com- 
 passion of this great princess. She sent to her chamber 
 for eye-water ; she allowed ine to bathe my eyes : she
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 369 
 
 drew the curtains in such a way that a sufficiency 
 of light to distinguish different objects was all that 
 remained. My sight gradually returned : I saw but 
 little, though I was enabled to see sufficiently for my 
 puqjose at that time. It was not the eye-water which 
 performed the miracle, but the kindness of the princ 
 which imparted strength to my mind and penses. 
 
 I resumed the book, which I found myself enabled 
 to read ; but Madame Adelaide would not allow me t<» 
 do so. She gave me leave to depart, and recommended 
 me to her physician. In a few days I recovered the 
 complete use of my right eye, but I have lost the other 
 forever. I am thus blind of one eye, a slight incon- 
 venience which does not give me much uneasiness . 
 but there are cases in-which it heightens my defects 
 and adds to my awkwardness. It is at the gaming- 
 table that I am most troublesome to others. The 
 candle must be placed on my right side, and if there 
 happen to be a lady in company in the same predica- 
 ment with myself, she dares not own it, but she con- 
 siders my preteusi >n ridiculous. At brelan, where the 
 candles are placed in the middle of the table, I can see 
 nothing. At whist or tresset, where partners are 
 changed, I must carry the candle with me. Inde- 
 pendently of my defective sight, I possess other sin- 
 gularities ; I dread heat in winter, and cold in summer 
 — I must have screens to secure me from the fire, and 
 an open window in the evening gives me a cold during 
 the most violent heats. I know not how the ladies 
 whom I have the honor of knowing can suffer me, and 
 allow me to draw a card, to be of their party. It is 
 because they are good and kind, and because I play 
 at all games ; refuse no match ; am not frightened at 
 deep play, and not less amused when I play for small
 
 370 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sums : because I am not a bad player, and, notwith- 
 standing my defects, am one of the best-natured men 
 in company. 
 
 After six months' service, I got lodgings in the castle 
 of Versailles. I received the apartments destined for 
 the accoucheur of the dauphiness. whom that princess 
 could dispense with, on account of the ill-health of the 
 dauphin. In the month of May. of the same year, 
 1765, the court made a short excursion to Marly. I 
 accompanied the princesses, and enjoyed the delightful 
 situation of that place. After seeing the garden of the 
 Tuileries and the park of Versailles. I thought that 
 nothing would surprise me : but the position and beau- 
 ties of the garden of Marly made such an impression 
 on me, that I should have given the preference to that 
 enchanting spot, if the remembrance of the richness 
 and extent of the others had not regulated my com- 
 parisons. Those who have seen this castle, its gar- 
 den, its immense parterre, its compartments, its designs, 
 its jets-d'eau, and its cascades, will do me justice; 
 and the accurate descriptions which we have of it con- 
 firm the judgment of it formed by me. 
 
 What adds to the pleasures and delights of this rural 
 abode is the gaming-house. Every person who is 
 known may enter: and there are corners for those who 
 cannot, or are not disposed to penetrate into the circle. 
 I preferred one of these by-corners, to see for the first 
 time the arrival of the king and his attendants. It 
 was a striking sight. The king entered, accompanied 
 by the queen, the princes, princesses, and the whole 
 court, and took his seat at the great table, surrounded 
 by all that was distinguished in the kingdom. The 
 queen made a party that day at cavagnol. The dau- 
 phiness and princesses had different gaming-tables.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 371 
 
 They discovered me in my corner, and requested me to 
 cspine forward, and I saw myself confounded amid the 
 crowd of nobles, ministers, and magistrates. They 
 played lansquenet at the king's table, where every one 
 by turns held the hand. It was said that Louis XV. 
 was fortunate at play : I wait d till he held the bank ; 
 I ventured six louis-d'ors on my account in favor of the 
 bank, and I gained. The king went out, and the royal 
 family foil- >wed him. The rest of the company remained 
 and played in any way and f< w any sum they ch< tse. One 
 lady remained a day and two nights at the same table, 
 ordering chocolate and biscuits, that she might nourish 
 at the same time her body and her passion. 
 
 Although pleasure was the primary object of this 
 agreeable excursion, I had my regular hours for labor- 
 ing with the princesses. One day I was met by one i f 
 my august scholars in the passage, as she was going 
 to dinner. She looked at me and said, "By and by" 
 (à tantôt). Tantosto, in Italian, means " immedi- 
 ately " ; I thought the princess meant to take her les- 
 son on rising from table : I remained in waiting with 
 as much patience as my appetite would permit. At 
 length the principal lady in waiting made me enter at 
 four o'clock in the afternoon. On opening her book, 
 the princess put a question to me, which she was in 
 the daily habit of doing, where I had dined that day. 
 " Nowhere, madam," said I. "What! you have not 
 dined ! " " Xo, madam." " Are you unwell ?" " No, 
 madam." " Why have you not dined, then? " " Be- 
 cause, madam, you did me the honor of saying à tantôt 
 to me." " Does not this expression, when used at two 
 o'clock, mean about four o'clock in the afternoon ! " 
 " Perhaps it may, madam ; but this term in Italian 
 signifies immediately." The princess smiled, shut her
 
 372 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 book, and sent me to dine. There are both French 
 and Italian terms which bear a resemblance to one 
 another, and yet have quite a different meaning. I 
 still fell into some of these qui pro quos, and I may 
 say that the little French I know was acquired by me 
 (luring- the three years I was employed in the service 
 of the princesses. They read the Italian poets and 
 prose writers ; I stammered out a bad translation into 
 French : they repeated it gracefully and elegantly, and 
 in this exercise the master learned more than the 
 scholar. 
 
 On returning to Versailles, the health of the dauphin 
 seemed to be on the recovery. He was fond of music, 
 and the dauphiness took care to provide some for his 
 amusement. I composed an Italian cantata, which I 
 got set to music by an Italian composer, and I pre- 
 sented it to that princess, who, in accepting it, had the 
 goodness to invite me to hear it executed in her room 
 after supper. 
 
 I learned on this occasion a piece of etiquette of 
 which I was before ignorant. I entered the apart- 
 ments of the princess at ten o'clock at night, and pre- 
 sented myself at the door of the closet of the nobility. 
 The doorkeeper did not prevent me from entering. 
 The dauphin and dauphiness were at table, and I took 
 a convenient station to see them sup. A lady in wait- 
 ing came up to me, and asked if I was entitled to ad- 
 mission in the evening. "I do not know, madam," 
 said I, " the difference between admission by day and 
 in the evening; the princess herself commanded me to 
 repair to her room after her supper, — I have come too 
 soon, perhaps ; I did not know the etiquette." " Sir," 
 replied the lady, " there is none for you. you may re- 
 main." I own that my self-love was not a little grati-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 3/3 
 
 fied on this occasion. I remained. When the prince 
 and princess had finished supper, I was called, and my 
 cantata was performed. The dauphiness played the 
 harpsichord, Madame Adelaide accompanied her on the 
 violin, and Mademoiselle Hardy (afterwards Madame 
 de la Brasse) sang. The music gave pleasure, and 
 compliments were paid to the author of the words, 
 which I received very modestly. On my preparing to 
 go away, the dauphin had the goodness to detain me. 
 He sang himself, and I had the good fortune to hear 
 him. But what did he sing I A pathetic air from an 
 oratorio called ll The Pilgrim at the Sepulchre." 
 
 This prince was declining every day, but he was pos- 
 sessed of fortitude; and the desire of quieting the minds 
 of the court respecting his situation made him conceal 
 his sufferings, and assume a cheerful look in public. 
 
 The king passed six weeks regularly every summer 
 at Compiegne, and as many in autumn at Fontaine- 
 bleau. These rural excursions were called the great 
 journeys, because all the departments and all the 
 offices of the ministry were removed there, and the 
 foreign ministers also accompanied the court. 
 
 Both took place this year, 1765, after the short ex- 
 cursion to Marly, and the journey to Compiegne was 
 brilliant and magnificent in the highest degree. The 
 Compiegne journey began with an appearance of gay- 
 ety, but it terminated with a circumstance of great 
 distress. The dauphin 1 s health grew worse and worse 
 every day. He thought exercise would do him good, 
 but the fatigue completely exhausted him. I had lost 
 one protector, and I saw myself on the point of losing 
 another. I became melancholy, and I could find nothing 
 in the situation where I was to enliven me. The forest 
 of Compiegne is superb; but it seemed to me too much
 
 374 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 trimmed, too uniform, and too remote from the town. 
 There was a want of society, hut everybody was 
 gloomy like myself. I began even to he alarmed for 
 my health. My melancholy was gaining ground on me. 
 
 IY. 
 
 The court had scarcely returned to Versailles before 
 they began to talk of the journey to Fontainebleau. 
 It was fixed for the 4th of October; but the ill-health 
 of the dauphin rendered it a matter of uncertainty. 
 This amiable and complaisant prince was grieved to 
 think that the king should be deprived of any of his 
 pleasures, and that the inhabitants of Fontainebleau 
 should lose the profits which they were in the habit 
 of deriving from the presence of the court and the in- 
 flux of strangers. Whenever Fontainebleau was men- 
 tioned, notwithstanding his illness, he endeavored to 
 assume a gayety. and to appear in good health. But 
 1 was not deceived by this, and there were numbers 
 more who thought as I did. The journey, however, 
 was determined on, and carried into effect accordingly. 
 It would be unjust and unreasonable to suppose that 
 the king and royal family were less interested than 
 others in the health and tranquillity of this prince, in 
 whom their happiness was centred; but it is natural 
 that those who are most concerned about the preserva- 
 tion of any object should not see the whole of the dan- 
 ger, and they might have flattered themselves that a 
 change of air and amusement might contribute to the 
 health of the patient. 
 
 They set out, then, for this castle in the beginning 
 of October. The situation, and the pleasures with 
 which it abounds, rendered this journey delightful for
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 375 
 
 some days. The different theatrical amusements at 
 Paris were also exhibited by turns, and the authors 
 brought out their new productions there in preference. 
 We had theatrical entertainments four times a week, 
 and we entered by means of tickets of admission issued 
 by the captain of the guards or duty. 
 
 In the midst of our gayety, our pleasures and 
 amusements, everything changed its appearance before 
 our visit was half over. The dauphin could no longer 
 support with indifference the fire which was inter- 
 nally consuming him : his courage became useless, his 
 strength abandoned him ; he was unable to quit his 
 bed ; there was a general consternation ; his disease 
 made a most alarming progress, and all the resources 
 of the faculty were exhausted. They then had re- 
 course to prayers, and the Archbishop of Sens, now a 
 cardinal, went every day in procession, followed "by 
 an immense crowd, to the chapel of the Virgin, at the 
 extremity of the town. They vowed to elevate a tem- 
 ple there, if the intercession of the Mother of God 
 restored the health of the dying prince ; hut it was 
 written in the decrees of Providence that he should 
 now finish his career ; and he died at Fontainebleau 
 towards the end of December. 
 
 I was in the castle at this fatal moment. The loss 
 was great, and the desolation general. A few minutes 
 after this event took place, I heard " The dauphin, 
 gentlemen ! n called out throughout the whole length 
 of the apartments. I was thunderstruck ; I neither 
 knew what I was nor where I was. This was occa- 
 sioned by the Duke de Berry, the eldest sou of the 
 defunct, who had now become the presumptive heir of 
 the crown, making his appearance, bathed in tears, for 
 the sake of consoling the afflicted people. This visit,
 
 376 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 which was to have ended in the middle of November, 
 was prolonged to the end of the year. All were eager 
 to leave the place ; I participated in the general feel- 
 ing : bat I gave way to those whose service was more 
 necessary, and set out the last of all. This year was 
 exceedingly inclement. A great deal of snow fell, and 
 the roads were covered with ice. The horses could 
 not keep their footing : and I took two days and one 
 night in performing a journey which in general does 
 not occupy more than seven hours. 
 
 On arriving at Versailles. I was instantly visited by 
 a servant of the keeper of the castle, who, in the name 
 of his master, demanded the key of my apartments from 
 me. On the dauphin's death, the office of accoucheur 
 to the dauphiness became necessarily suppressed : that 
 princess had no longer any right to dispose of the 
 apartments : I could not therefore enjoy them, and 
 they Mere apparently destined for some person of more 
 consequence than myself. I deemed it improper to 
 enter into any conversation on the subject with the 
 man who delivered the message to me, and I sent him 
 away with an answer that I was in want of rest. 1 
 turned the subject over in my mind during the night, 
 and, on reflection. I thought, in the present distressing 
 circumstances of the court, it would be indecent in 
 me to prefer complaints or to demand protection. I 
 therefore took lodgings at once in the town, and 
 gave up the key of my apartments. Italian was no 
 longer thought of by the princesses : however, I durst 
 not remove from Versailles: my finances were in a 
 wretched state : I had received an order for a hundred 
 louis-d'ors on the royal treasury : but this was the only 
 thins I had ever received. I was in want of every- 
 thing, but durst demand nothing.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 377 
 
 I saw my august scholars from time to time, and 
 they still looked on me with kindness, but I no longer 
 labored with them. I knew not how to make my 
 situation known to them, and the princesses were too 
 distressed themselves to think of me. My Italian rev- 
 enues came but slowly in ; my friend Sciugliaga lent 
 me a hundred sequins, and I waited patiently fur a time 
 when trouble should give place to serenity. 
 
 But the distress was not yet at an end ; one misfor- 
 tune succeeded another. The dauphiness fell a victim 
 to her grief, and was buried in the same grave with her 
 husband. The death of the King of Poland, father to 
 the Queen of France, happened some time afterwards, 
 and that of his august daughter filled up the measure 
 of public affliction. Could I approach the princesses 
 to speak of my own situation ? No ; and though I 
 could have done so, my heart would not have allowed 
 me ; I entertained too much respect for their grief, and 
 I had too high a confidence in their goodness, not to 
 bear my sufferings in silence. I measured my desires 
 by my means, and with the exception of the hundred 
 sequins which I owed to a friend, I was in debt to 
 nobody. The dark clouds began at length to dissipate. 
 The mournings were over, and the court gradually 
 resumed its former amenity. The princesses had the 
 goodness to send for me. I received a present of a 
 hundred louis-d'ors in a box of wrought gold, and a 
 settled provision for me was mentioned. The prin- 
 cesses demanded for me the titles and emoluments of 
 Italian instructor for the royal family. The minister 
 of Paris and of the court objected to this, which, he 
 said, would be a new office at court, and a new burden 
 on the state. I could have demanded a thousand 
 things, but I demanded nothing, and continued to
 
 3/8 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 serve, to want, and to hope. Three years elapsed 
 before my august protectresses could procure me an 
 annual income. 
 
 They sent for the minister. " We do not want," 
 said they, " to create a new office for a man who has 
 yet to serve, but to recompense a man who has already 
 served." They demanded six thousand livres a year 
 for me. The minister said it was too much. " I dare 
 say," said he, " M. Goldoni will be contented with four 
 thousand francs." The princesses took him at his 
 word, and the affair was instantly concluded. I was 
 satisfied. I went to return my thanks to the princesses, 
 who were still more satisfied than myself; and they 
 had the goodness to assure me, that, in one way or 
 other, I should have all their nephews and nieces for 
 scholars, and that the salary which I had obtained was 
 but the commencement of the favors which they hoped 
 I should one day enjoy. If I have not profited by this 
 favor, it has been my own fault ; I was ill skilled in 
 asking ; I was at court, but I was not a courtier. The 
 first time ray order was paid at the royal treasury, I 
 only received thirty-six hundred livres, four hundred 
 being retained for the tax of the twentieth. On speak- 
 ing, perhaps, I should have obtained an exception 
 from this duty. I said nothing, however, and things 
 have always remained on their own footing. 
 
 My income was not very considerable, but I must be 
 just. What had I done to merit it ? I had quitted 
 Italy for France. The Italian theatre did not suit me, 
 and my return to Venice was open to me. I became 
 attached, however, to the French nation ; three years 
 of an easy, honorable, and agreeable service procured 
 me the pleasure of remaining there. Had I not reason 
 to believe mvself fortunate ! And had I not reason to
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 379 
 
 be satisfied ? Besides, the princesses told me I should 
 have their nephews for scholars ; there were three 
 princes and two princesses. What happy prospecte ! 
 What well-founded hopes ! "Was this not enough to 
 satisfy my ambition f Why should I have solicited 
 for offices or commissions to which the natives had a 
 better right than a stranger ? I have never demanded 
 any favors either for myself or my nephew, but under 
 circumstances when an Italian was entitled to be pre- 
 ferred to a Frenchman. As soon as my income was 
 fixed, the princesses gave over the Italian, and em- 
 ployed in other studies the hours formerly destined to 
 me. I was now at liberty to go where I pleased, and 
 I had a wish to return to Paris; but I amused myself 
 tolerably well at Versailles, and I remained there some 
 time longer. It is generally said at Paris that a Ver- 
 sailles life is very dull, that people grow weary there, 
 and know not what to do with themselves. I can 
 prove the contrary : those who are discontented with 
 their situation will find every place wearisome ; those 
 who take a delight in their occupation will find them- 
 selves as comfortable at Versailles as anywhere else ; 
 and those who have nothing to do may employ their 
 mornings usefully or agreeably in the castle, the pub- 
 lic offices, and in the park, and may everywhere find 
 interesting objects and variety of pleasure. 
 
 I returned to settle at Paris, but I still kept one foot 
 fast at Versailles. It was my interest to pay my court 
 to my august protectresses, and to see whether the 
 Italian literature and language could gain any partisans 
 among the young princes and princesses. The study 
 of foreign languages is not considered one of the neces- 
 sary branches of education at the court of France, but 
 as an amusement conceded to those who are desirous
 
 ,380 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of it, and capable of profiting by it. One of the three 
 princes only seemed disposed to learn Italian, and the 
 Abbé de Landonviller, of the French Academy, had the 
 care of him. The abbé employed his mode of teach- 
 ing languages which he published in 1768; he suc- 
 ceeded admirably, and the prince made an astonishing 
 progress. 
 
 I endeavored to translate some scenes of my u Thea- 
 tre," but I have never been able to relish translations, and 
 labor seems ever disgusting to me, without the charm 
 of imagination. Several persons applied to me for 
 permission to translate my comedies under my eyes, 
 agreeably to my opinions, and on condition of sharing 
 the profit. Since my arrival in France up to the pres- 
 ent day, a single year has never passed in which two 
 or more translators have not made such a proposition 
 to me. On my arrival in Paris, I even found one per- 
 son who had the exclusive privilege of translating me, 
 and had published some of his translations. I endeav- 
 ored to disgust all of them with an undertaking of 
 which they knew not the difficulties. 
 
 Ox aniving in Paris, I did not think I should fix 
 my residence there ; but having decided on remaining, 
 it became necessary to endeavor to procure some situa- 
 tion for my brother's son, whom I loved as if he were 
 my own. He was kind and docile ; he had gone 
 through his studies at Venice ; he was fit for some 
 good employment ; I was not rich enough to purchase 
 an office for him, and I wished to avoid, if possible, 
 the unpleasant circumstance of entering into competi- 
 tion for favors with the French. There was a pro-
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 381 
 
 fessor of the Italian language in the Royal Military 
 School ; M. Conti, who tilled that situation, was my 
 friend; he wished to retire, hut he was not entitled to 
 a pension till he had served twenty years, and he could 
 not, therefore, demand it. The employment was good ; 
 it was an eligible situation fur a young man ; I was 
 anxious that my nephew should obtain it, but there 
 were difficulties to be overcome. I implored the pro- 
 tection of Madame Adelaide of France ; that princess 
 recommended me to the Duke de Choiseul, and in fif- 
 teen days' time M. Conti received his pension, and my 
 nephew his place. By this means I had opportunities 
 of seeing at my ease two establishments worthy of the 
 magnificence of the French monarchs, the Royal Mil- 
 itary School and the Hospital for Invalids, the cradle 
 and the grave of the defenders of their country. The 
 nobility destined to the military life are educated in the 
 former, and the aged and wounded in war are relieved 
 in the other ; thearts and sciences, and everything that 
 is useful in education, form the young minds in the 
 one ; in the other, attention, repose, and all the com- 
 forts of life, are enjoyed by the veterans, as a recom- 
 pense for their past services. This last establishment 
 was founded in the reign of Louis XIV. ; the other in 
 the reign of Louis XV. The Hospital for Invalids is 
 decorated with a magnificent temple, which would 
 hold an honorable rank even in Rome ; and the four 
 great refectories of the soldiers are as curious as the 
 kitchens in which the food for these worthy persons is 
 cooked. 
 
 It afforded me great pleasure to pass a few days in 
 these two royal establishments, which are so close to 
 each other, and of which I knew the governors and 
 principal persons employed ; but after my nephew had
 
 382 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 been there twenty-two months, considerable changes 
 were made in the Military School ; the humanity classes 
 were transferred to the college of La Flèche, and the 
 Italian class was altogether suppressed. This was not 
 owing to the fault of the professor, who was recom- 
 pensed with a pension of six hundred francs. 
 
 I was told that the Duke de Choiseul was aware of 
 these projected changes when he gave the place to my 
 nephew, and that he conferred on us an employment 
 which would be suppressed, for the sake of procuring 
 us this little favor. This minister, considering me as 
 under the protection of the princesses, manifested great 
 kiudness for me ; he did me the honor to tell me, when 
 I called on him to return him my thanks : " Your 
 nephew's affairs are now in a good way ; how are your 
 own ! " I answered him, I enjoyed an income of thirty- 
 six hundred livres per annum. He began to laugh. 
 u This is no income," said he ; " we must have some- 
 thing else for you ; we must take care of you." I have 
 never, however, had anything further ; but this is my 
 own fault ; I must return to the burden of my song : 
 I was at court, but not a courtier. 
 
 My nephew, who was without any employment, 
 labored with me till something else should turn op. 
 The maxim which I had adopted, and with which I 
 had inspired him, never to mix in the herd of competi- 
 tors, rendered success more difficult. I was intimate 
 at Versailles with M. Genet, the head and director of 
 the office for translation, to which he gave a new form 
 and a solid consistency, and which was placed entirely 
 under his control. This respectable father, who divided 
 his time between the duties of his office and the educa- 
 tion of his children, recollecting that I had once done 
 him a slight service, took an opportunity of recom-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 383 
 
 pending me for it. Since the acquisition of Corsica an 
 office had been established at Versailles for the affairs 
 of that island, and an interpreter well acquainted with 
 the two languages was wanted. The gentleman at the 
 head of this office applied to M. Genet to procure one 
 for him; my worthy friend, mindful of me, proposed 
 my nephew, who was accepted and introduced without 
 any difficulty. This young man seemed destined to 
 encounter nothing but reforms and suppressions. The 
 office for Corsica was abolished shortly afterwards ; 
 the affairs of finance were given to the comptroller- 
 general, and the civil administration was transferred to 
 the war department. The interpreter was transferred 
 there. This inspection ^vas annexed to the office of 
 M. Campi, principal secretary for controverted affairs. 
 My nephew endeavors to render himself useful : he is 
 fortunate enough to please his superiors, from whom 
 he has received various proofs of kindness. If my 
 journey to France had been productive of no other ad- 
 vantage than that of settling this dear youth, I should 
 still be pleased with having undertaken it. 
 
 I was attached to France from inclination, and I 
 became still more strongly so through gratitude. The 
 Chevalier Gradenigo, the Venetian ambassador, not- 
 withstanding his anxiety for my accepting the proposi- 
 tions of his countrymen, could not but approve of my 
 resistance, and undertook to justify me with his friends 
 and my protectors. This minister's commission was 
 nearly at an end ; the embassies of the republic last 
 only four years. M. Gradenigo was beloved by the 
 court and ministry of France, who were desirous that 
 he should remain some time longer. The king was 
 even disposed to apply for his stay, and the minister 
 had a courier in readiness to despatch for that purpose.
 
 384 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The ambassador felt the utmost respect and gratitude 
 f. >r these marks of honor, but he could not give his 
 consent ; the laws of the republic are immutable ; the 
 successor was on his way ; M. Gradenigo had therefore 
 no option, and was obliged to set out, and the prepara- 
 tions for his audience of leave were far advanced. The 
 Duke de Choiseul. minister for foreign affairs, deemed 
 this ceremony costly, troublesome, and entirely useless, 
 and the kin»- was of the same opinion. M. Gradenigo 
 was installed a knight or chevalier by his majesty with- 
 out the usual pomp, and he paid his visits to the royal 
 family and the princes of the blood as a private indi- 
 vidual. This is the era of the suppression of public 
 audiences for ordinary ambassadors. 
 
 This ambassador was succeeded by the Chevalier 
 Sebastian Mocenigo, Avho came from Spain, wnither 
 he was despatched on his first embassy by the republic 
 of Venice. He was of a very illustrions, ancient, and 
 rich family : he was clever, intelligent, amiable, a good 
 musician, and sang charmingly. But — he experienced 
 some things of an unpleasant nature, which he did not 
 perhaps deserve. 
 
 I was invited to London, the only place in Europe 
 which can dispute precedency with Paris, and I should 
 have liked to see it : but I heard great marriages 
 talked of at Versailles, and as I had been at all the 
 funerals of the court, I wished not to be absent in a 
 time of rejoicing. Besides, I was not asked for by the 
 King of England, but by the managers of the opera, 
 who were anxious to attach me to it. I endeavored, 
 however, to turn the favorable opinion which they en- 
 tertained of me to some account ; I assigned good rea- 
 sons by way of excuse, and I offered them my services 
 on condition of remaining in France. My proposition
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 385 
 
 was accepted. They asked me for a new comic opera, 
 and employed me to arrange all the old dramas which 
 they had adopted for the current year. They said 
 nothing respecting my recompense, and I did not men- 
 tion it. I applied myself to the work; the English 
 were satisfied with me ; I was highly pleased with 
 their return. This correspondence was continued for 
 several years, and an end was not put to it till the 
 directors were succeeded by others, on which occasion 
 I received an unequivocal mark of their satisfaction, as 
 they paid me for an opera which it was impossible for 
 them then to use. This direction was in the hands 
 of women, and women are amiable in every country. 
 The most agreeable and finished work which I sent 
 to them was, in my opinion, a comic opera, entitled 
 " Yictorina " ; and I received from London compliments 
 and thanks without end on account of it. M. Piccini, 
 who set it to music, wrote to me from Naples that he 
 never read a comic drama from which he derived so 
 much pleasure. The success, however, did not cor- 
 respond with the prepossession of the directors or my 
 own. 
 
 Sometimes I see bagatelles, seemingly destitute of 
 meaning, extolled to the skies ; and at other times 
 well-written pieces fail, because the subject is too 
 melancholy for tears, or not sufficiently gay to elicit 
 laughter. AYhat are the precepts of the comic opera ? 
 What are its rules ! It has none. All is done by rou- 
 tine : I know from experience, and ought to be be- 
 lieved : e.rperto crede Roberto. Shall I be told that 
 the Italian comic operas are mere farces, unworthy of 
 being put in comparison with the poems which go by 
 that name in France ! Let those who know the Ital- 
 ian language give themselves the trouble of going
 
 386 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 over the six volumes which contain the collection of 
 my works of this nature, and they will see, perhaps, 
 that the subjects and the style are not so contemptible. 
 They are not, it is true, good dramas, hut they are 
 capable of being made so. I never thought of com- 
 posing any from taste or choice, and I never labored 
 on them but from motives of complaisance or interest. 
 When we are possessed of talents, we must turn them 
 to some account ; a history painter will not refuse to 
 draw a baboon, if he be well paid for it. 
 
 The Italian theatre is as fortunate in actors as 
 authors, and all are well treated and well recompensed. 
 The poets and musicians enjoy the ninth of the re- 
 ceipts for a piece of five or three acts, the twelfth for 
 a piece of two acts, and the eighteenth for a piece of 
 one act ; besides, two annual pensions have been es- 
 tablished at the Italian theatre, one for the author of 
 the words, and another for the author of the music 
 of the greatest merit. At this theatre authors enjoy 
 another considerable advantage ; they never lose the 
 right to their pieces ; they always enjoy the fixed 
 share ; they give tickets gratis for every representation 
 of their works ; and the pieces which have not been 
 refused by the public are placed in the repertory of 
 the week, so that they never fall. In consequence of 
 these advantages, I have been more than once tempted 
 to yield to the solicitations of several musicians, who 
 frequently, very frequently, almost every day indeed, 
 asked me for some work for the comic opera; after 
 much thinking, revising, and thoroughly examining, 
 I imagined I had fallen upon the routine necessary to 
 please the French, and I composed a small piece in 
 two acts, called the " Bouillotte." This word is not 
 to be found in any dictionary, but it is well known at
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 387 
 
 Paris ; it is a game at cards, a brelan at five, the tricks 
 of which are neither fixed nor marked. He who loses 
 his stake goes out and is succeeded by another; in 
 these parties of bouillotte there are generally three or 
 four persons, who do not play at first, who wait for 
 the going out of the unfortunate before they begin 
 playing, and all go out successfully. This perpetual 
 movement, and the number of people interested in the 
 same game, occasion a sort of agitation or boiling 
 (bouillonnement) which has given rise to the name 
 " bouillotte." 
 
 So long as nothing more than dialogue was neces- 
 sary, I succeeded tolerably well; and I thought I 
 might venture my prose on a theatre where the public 
 are indulgent to strangers. But in a comic opera airs 
 were necessary, and good music required good poetry. 
 I knew the mechanism of French versification. I had 
 surmounted all the difficulties which a foreign ear must 
 experience, and I had selected good models for imita- 
 tion. I set myself to work, and composed couplets, 
 quatrains, whole airs ; and after all the pains taken by 
 me, I saw that my Muse in a French dress had not 
 that fire, that grace and facility, which an author ac- 
 quires in his youth, and brings to perfection in his 
 mature'years. I became sensible of my imperfections, 
 and gave up my work ; and I renounced forever the 
 charms of French poetry. I might have confided my 
 subject to some one who would have perhaps taken 
 the charge of the versification ; but then to whom 
 could I apply ? An author of the first rank would 
 have changed my plan, and an inferior author would 
 have spoiled it. Besides, it was a trifle which I did 
 not care much for, and I soon forgot it. I found it in 
 the rummaging among my papers which my Memoirs
 
 388 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 occasion mo to make : and as I communicate all my 
 
 productions to my readers, I make it a point of con- 
 science not to conceal this abortion. If any of my 
 readers deem this subject worthy of his attention, I 
 leave him full power to do with it what he pleas, s : 
 and if he will have the goodness to consult me, I shall 
 tell him sincerely my opinion, even at the risk of dis- 
 pleasing him, which has happened to me more than 
 once under similar circumstances. Beware, my friends, 
 of those young people, those inferior authors, who 
 come to consult you. They do not want your advice, 
 but compliments and applauses. If you endeavor to 
 correct them, yon will soon see with what obstinacy 
 they maintain their opinions, and what a coloring they 
 give to their faults ; and if you persist, they at last 
 conclude you to be a fool. 
 
 YI. 
 
 I have already announced that preparations for 
 great marriages were making at court in the year 1/70, 
 a time when the Archduchess of Austria. Marie An- 
 toinette of Lorraine, came as a dauphiness to fill this 
 kingdom with joy. glory, and hope. By the qualities 
 of her head and her heart, she gained the esteem of the 
 king, the affection of her husband, the friendship of 
 the royal family, and by her beneficence she merited 
 the public admiration. This virtue, which in our 
 days has become the ruling passion of Frenchmen, 
 seems to have excited an emulation in souls possessed 
 of sensibility from the example set by that august 
 princess. 
 
 These nuptials were celebrated with a pomp worthy 
 of the grandson of the French monarch and the daugh-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 389 
 
 ter of the Empress of Germany. I saw the richly 
 decorated temple, the majestic view of the royal ban- 
 quet, the ball in the gallery, and the gaming parties 
 in the apartments. There were illuminations every- 
 where, and fireworks of the greatest beauty. Torre, 
 an Italian artificer, on this occasion, carried the pyro- 
 technical art to the highest perfection. 
 
 The new court -theatre was opened at the same 
 time. It is a superb building, but the architecture is 
 more majestic than convenient for the spectators. It 
 ooght to be seen when dress or masked balls are given. 
 The theatre, on these occasions, is decorated with the 
 same ornaments as the rest of the house, and the 
 whole forms an immense saloon, enriched with col- 
 umns, looking-glasses, and gildings, which prove the 
 grandeur of the sovereign by whom it was ordered, 
 and the taste of the artist by whom it was executed. 
 In the rejoicings on this august marriage the French 
 poets made court and city resound with their songs. 
 My Muse was desirous of awaking; I endeavored to 
 do something also; and I composed Italian verses, 
 but I did not dare to print them. Among the infinite 
 number of compositions which appeared every day. 
 some were excellent, while others were not so much as 
 read. I was unwilling to augment the number of the 
 latter, and I presented my verses in manuscript. The 
 dauphiness received them with kindness and gave me 
 to understand, in very good Italian, that I was not 
 unknown to her. 
 
 It would seem that the happy star which then shed 
 its influence over this kingdom inspired me with zeal, 
 ambition, and courage. I then conceived the project 
 of composing a French comedy; and I had the te- 
 merity to offer it to the French theatre. The word
 
 390 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 u temerity " is not too strong oil this occasion : for must 
 it not be regarded in this light, that I, a stranger, who 
 
 had never set foot in France till the age of fifty-three, 
 with merely a confused and superficial knowledge of 
 that language, should venture, after a lapse of nine 
 years, to compose a piece for the principal theatre of 
 the nation ? You are aware, I suppose, my reader, that 
 I am speaking of " The Surly Benefactor" (Bourru 
 Benifaisant), a fortunate piece, which crowned my 
 labors, and set the seal to my reputation. 
 
 It was given for the first time at Paris on the 4th of 
 November, 1771, and next day at Fontainebleau ; and 
 it had the same success at the court and in the city. 
 1 received a gratification of one hundred and fifty 
 louis-d'ors from the king, and my right of authorship 
 brought me in a handsome sum at Paris. My book- 
 seller treated me with great liberality, and I was over- 
 powered with honor, pleasure, and joy. I tell the 
 truth, and make no concealment; false modesty is as 
 odious in my eyes as vanity. I will not attempt any 
 extracts from a comedy which is everywhere acted, 
 and in everybody's hands. 
 
 My comedy could not have been more successful. 
 I had been fortunate enough to find in nature a char- 
 acter every day to be met with, which, however, had 
 escaped the vigilance of ancient and modern authors. 
 They imagined, perhaps, that a rude and surly indi- 
 vidual, from the inconvenience which he occasions to 
 society, would be disgusting on the stage ; and, con- 
 sidering the character in this point of view, they have 
 acted wisely in not bringing it forward. I should 
 have followed their example, had other views not 
 inspired me with the hope of turning it to account. 
 The beneficence constitutes the principal object of my
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 391 
 
 piece ; and the vivacity of the beneficent individual fur- 
 nishes the comic humor which is inseparable from 
 comedy. Beneficence is a virtue of the soul; rough- 
 ness is hut a constitutional defect ; both arc compatible 
 in the same subject ; on these principles I formed my 
 plan, and the sensibility of my protagonist was what 
 alone rendered him supportable. 
 
 On the first representation of my comedy, I con- 
 cealed myself, as I had always doue in Italy, behind 
 the curtain; I saw nothing, but I heard my actors and 
 the applauses of the public; I stalked backwards and 
 forwards during the whole time of the play, quicken- 
 ing my steps in passages of interest and passion, sat- 
 isfied with the actors, and echoing the applauses of 
 the public. At the conclusion of the play I heard 
 clapping of hands and shouts of applause without end. 
 M. Dauberval, who was to conduct me to Fontaine- 
 bleau, arrived. 1 imagined he came to urge my de- 
 parture ; but he came for a very different purpose. 
 "Come, sir," said he, "you must exhibit yourself." 
 "Exhibit myself! to whom?" "To the public, 
 which calls for you." " Xo, no, friend, let us take our 
 departure with all expedition ; I could not support — " 
 Here M. le Kain and M. Brizard laid hold of me, and 
 dragged me on the stage. I had seen authors undergo 
 a similar ceremony with courage ; but I was not accus- 
 tomed to it. In Italy poets are not called to appear 
 on the stage for the purpose of being complimented 
 by the audience; I could not conceive how a man 
 could, as it were, say tacitly to the spectators, "Here 
 I am, gentlemen, ready for your applause." 
 
 After supporting tor several seconds a situation of 
 the greatest constraint and singularity, I at last retired 
 and crossed the stage, to gain the coach which was
 
 392 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 in waiting for me. I met numbers of people who 
 were seeking me. I distinguished no one; I accom- 
 panied my guide, and entered the coach, in which my 
 wife and nephew were already seated. At the success 
 of my piece they wept for joy, and at the account of 
 my appearance on the stage they were ready to die of 
 laughter. I was fatigued, and required some repose ; 
 I wanted sleep : my soul was satisfied and my mind 
 tranquil: I should have passed a happy night in bed, 
 but in the carriage I closed my eyes and was awaked 
 again every moment by the jostling. In short, after 
 a good deal of dozing, talking, and yawning, I arrived 
 at Fontainebleau, where I immediately went to bed. 
 After dining, and a short walk. I repaired to the castle 
 to witness the representation of my piece, and kept 
 always behind the curtain. 
 
 I have spoken of its success at court. It was not 
 allowable at that time to applaud in presence of the 
 king : but it was easy to see. from the movement and 
 the countenances of the spectators, the effect whieh 
 the piece produced on them. Next day the Marshal 
 de Duras did me the honor to present me privately to 
 the king in his closet. His majesty aud all the royal 
 family bestowed on me fresh proofs of their usual lib- 
 erality. I returned to Paris to witness the second 
 representation of my piece. That day several symp- 
 toms of ill-fiumor were exhibited in the pit. I was 
 in my usual place. M. Feuilli came down and told 
 me not to be uneasy, for it was nothing but a cabal. 
 " What ! *' said I, " there was nothing of this kind at 
 the first representation." " Those who are now jeal- 
 ous were not then afraid of you," said the actor ; " they 
 laughed at the idea of a foreigner attempting to write 
 a French comedy, and the cabal was not then organ-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXL 393 
 
 ized ; but you have nothing to fear," added he, " the 
 blow has taken effect, and your success is certain/' In 
 reality, the piece met with increasing success till the 
 twelfth representation, when it was withdrawn by the 
 actors and myself, for the sake of reproducing it in a 
 more advantageous season. 
 
 Nobody said anything against my play, but it was 
 the subject of much conversation. Some said it was 
 a piece of my Italian theatre ; others thought I had 
 written it in Italian and translated it into French. 
 The collection of my works may convince the former 
 of the contrary, and I shall now proceed to undeceive 
 the latter, if there- >till be any who retain that opinion. 
 I not only composed my piece in French, but I 
 thought in the French manner when engaged in it. 
 It has the stamp of its origin in the thoughts, in the 
 imagery, in the manner, and in the style. 
 
 I wrote then and conceived this piece in French, 
 hut I was not so bold as to produce it without con- 
 sulting persons capable of affording me both correc- 
 tion and instruction. I even availed myself of their 
 opinions. 
 
 Nearly about this time M. Eousseau, of Geneva, re- 
 turned to Paris. Every person was eager to see him, 
 but he was net visible to all. I knew him only by 
 reputation, but I had a strong desire to converse with 
 him, and would gladly have shown my piece to a man 
 so well acquainted with the French literature and lan- 
 guage. 
 
 It was necessary to inform him beforehand, to insure 
 a favorable reception ; I therefore adopted the resolu- 
 tion of writing to him, and expressing, my desire to 
 form an acquaintance with him. He returned a very 
 polite answer, informing nie that he never left his home
 
 394 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 or went anywhere, but that, if I would give myself the 
 trouble to climb four pair of stairs in the Hôtel Plâtrèire, 
 in the street Plàtrière, it would be doing him a great 
 pleasure. I accepted the invitation, and called on him 
 a few days afterwards. 
 
 I will here give an account of my conversation 
 with the citizen of Geneva. The result is not, indeed, 
 very interesting : my piece was only mentioned inci- 
 dentally, and without alluding to any consequences; 
 but I avail myself of this opportunity of mentioning 
 this extraordinary man, who possessed talents of the 
 very highest order, with incredible prejudices and weak- 
 nesses. 
 
 I ascended to the fourth story of the house he de- 
 scribed. On knocking, the door was opened by a 
 woman who was neither young nor pretty nor pre- 
 possessing. 
 
 I asked if M. Rousseau was at home. " He is, and 
 he is not," said the woman, whom at most I took for 
 his housekeeper, and who asked my name. On giving 
 it. she said, "You were expected, sir; and I shall 
 instantly announce you to my husband." On entering a 
 moment afterwards, I discovered the author of ''Emile" 
 busied in copying music. This I was previously in- 
 formed of, and I saw it with silent indignation. He 
 received me in a frank and friendly manner, and as he 
 rose he held out some sheets tome, and said, " See, sir, 
 if anybody can copy music like me; I defy any one to 
 show anything from the press divided as beautifully 
 and exactly as I do it : come, let us warm ourselves," 
 he continued, and with one step we were close to the 
 h re. 
 
 The fire was low, and he demanded fresh wood, 
 which was brought in by Madame Rousseau. I rose
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 395 
 
 and offered my chair to her. " Do not disturb your- 
 self/' said the husband, " my wife has her concerns to 
 attend to." 
 
 My heart was grieved to see a man of letters em- 
 ployed as a copyist, and his wife acting as a servant. 
 It was a painful spectacle for me, and I could neither 
 conceal my astonishment nor my pain, though I said 
 nothing. As he was not wanting in penetration, he 
 perceived that something was passing in my mind ; he 
 questioned me, and I was forced to tell him the cause 
 of my silence and astonishment. 
 
 " What! " said he, "you pity me because I am em- 
 ployed in copying 'I You imagine that I should be 
 better employed in composing books for people incapa- 
 ble of reading them, and supplying articles to unprinci- 
 pled journalists ? You are mistaken; I am passionately 
 fond of music; I copy from excellent originals; this 
 enables me to live, and serves to amuse me ; and what 
 more should I have ? But what are you yourself 
 doing?" continued he. " You came to France to la- 
 bor for the Italian comedians, who are lazy fellows 
 and do not want your pieces. Eeturn again to your 
 own country ; I know that you are wished for, that you 
 are expected — " 
 
 " Sir," said I, interrupting him, " you are in the 
 right ; I ought to have quitted Paris in consequence of 
 the carelessness of the Italian actors, but other views 
 have detained me. I have been composing a piece in 
 French." " You have composed a piece in French ! " 
 said he, with an air of astonishment, "and what do 
 you mean to do with it?" "Give it to the theatre." 
 "To what theatre?" "To the French Theatre." 
 " You were reproaching me just now with losing my 
 time, but you seem to be losing yours without any
 
 396 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 benefit whatever.'' "My. piece is received." " Is it 
 possible 1 I am not, however, astonished at it; the 
 actors arc destitute even of common-sense ; they receive 
 and reject merely at random ; it is received, perhaps, 
 but it will not he acted; and so much the worse for 
 you if it be played." " How can you form any judgment 
 of a piece with which you are unacquainted Î " "I 
 know the taste of both the Italians and the French; 
 they are too dissimilar, and, with your permission, your 
 age is not the time to begin to write and to compose in a 
 foreign language. 7 ' " Your reflections are just, sir. bnt 
 these difficulties may be surmounted. I confided my 
 work to men of abilities and theatrical experience, who 
 appeared satisfied with it." " They merely flatter and 
 deceive you ; you will be their dupe. Show me your 
 piece : I am sincere and honest, and will tell you the 
 truth." 
 
 This was precisely what I was aiming at, not for the 
 sake of consulting him, but to see whether he would 
 persist, after reading my piece, in his want of confidence 
 in me. The manuscript was in the hands of the 
 copyist of the French Theatre, and I promised to If. 
 Rousseau that he should have a sight of it as soon 
 as it was returned to me. My intention was to keep 
 my word with him, and I shall explain why I did not 
 do so. 
 
 There appeared, about three years ago, a book en- 
 titled "The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, citizen of 
 Geneva, containing anecdotes of his life, written by 
 himself." In this work he does not spare himself; he 
 even advances singularities with respect to himself 
 which might be injurious to him if his celebrity did not 
 elevate him above criticism. But I am acquainted with 
 one circumstance which happened to him in the latter
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 397 
 
 years of his life, that is not to be found in his " Con- 
 fessions." The author has perhaps forgotten it, or had 
 not had time to insert it among the rest, as his book is 
 posthumous. This anecdote does not concern me par- 
 ticularly, but I mention it because it prevented me from 
 communicating my comedy to M. Rousseau. 
 
 This learned stranger had Mends and a number of 
 admirers at Paris. M was both a friend and ad- 
 mirer ; he loved, esteemed, and pitied him at the same 
 time, being acquainted with his distress as well as his 
 
 talents. M proposed to the Genevese author very 
 
 elegant and commodious furnished apartments, near the 
 garden of the Tuileries ; and that it might not shock 
 the delicacy of his friend, he offered them to him for 
 the same price as that he paid for the lodgings he occu- 
 pied. M. Rousseau perceived the intention of the gen- 
 erous man, rejected the offer abruptly, and exclaimed 
 
 that he would not be deceived. M , who was also 
 
 a philosopher, and being a Frenchman could unite 
 politeness with his philosophy, did not allow himself 
 to be chagrined at the refusal ; he knew the man, and 
 pardoned him his foibles; he continued to call on him, 
 and good-naturedly climbed up to the fourth story to 
 enjoy his conversation. 
 
 He had heard of the " Confessions of J. J. Rousseau," 
 and entertained a desire to see the whole or part of 
 them ; and having himself, in his portfolio, characters 
 of the age composed by him, in the manner of Theo- 
 phrastus and La Bruyère, he proposed to his friend 
 the reading of their respective works. M. Rousseau 
 
 accepted the proposition, but on condition that M 
 
 would be satisfied with a frugal supper at the Hôtel 
 
 Plâtrière. M observed that they would be more 
 
 comfortable at his house. " That may be," said the
 
 398 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 other, but you must sup with me, or the reading shall 
 not take place. The only concession I can make," 
 he added, "is to allow yon to bring a bottle of your 
 wine, for they give me very "bad wine where I am 
 lodged." 
 
 The complaisant Frenchman agreed to everything ; 
 but unfortunately he was too kind, too polite, having 
 sent a basket with six: bottles of excellent wine and six 
 bottles of Malaga. This surprise put the Genevese in 
 ill-humor. When the Frenchman arrived, he was 
 not backward in perceiving it, and asked some expla- 
 nation. "We two," said Rousseau, " cannot drink 
 twelve bottles of wine ; I have taken one from your 
 basket, which is enough for a moderate supper ; send 
 back the remainder instantly, or you shall not sup with 
 me." 
 
 The threat was not very alarming, but it was the 
 reading which interested the guest; his servant was 
 at hand, and he gave him the basket to carry back. 
 Rousseau was satisfied, and began first to read. The 
 sending back the wine was attended with much loss of 
 time ; they were interrupted by Madame Rousseau, 
 who wanted the table for the supper ; they could have 
 read without a table, but the supper was served up in- 
 stantly. It consisted of a pullet and a salad, and noth- 
 ing more. When the supper was over, it was M 's 
 
 turn to read ; he read a chapter, which was applauded 
 as very good; he read a second, and M. Rousseau rose, 
 and walked backwards and forwards with a discon- 
 tented and displeased air. When interrogated respect- 
 ing the cause of his anger, he said, "It is unbecoming 
 to insult respectable people in their own house." 
 "What," said the other, "do you complain of?" 
 " You have not a fool to deal with," replied the phi-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 399 
 
 losopher; "this is my portrait, which you have been 
 drawing in exaggerated colors, with satirical traits, — 
 
 it is shocking, it is unworthy ! *' 
 
 " Gently, my good sir/' said the Frenchman. " I 
 love and esteem you, and you know me; the person 
 whom I have been portraying is one of those harsh, 
 troublesome, and hitter individuals who an- so fre- 
 quently met with in society.* 1 " Yes. yes," replied M. 
 Rousseau, " I am aware that I pass for a character of 
 this kind in the minds of the ignorant ; I pity and 
 despise them, but I cannot hear that a man like you, 
 that a friend, real or pretended, should come to laugh 
 at me." 
 
 It was in vain for M to speak ; he could gain 
 
 nothing; the head of- the other was disordered, they 
 quarrelled seriously, and at last a very sharp corre- 
 spondence took place between them. 
 
 I was intimate with the French author. I saw him 
 the day after his rupture with M. Rousseau in a com- 
 pany where we frequently met; he communicated to 
 us what had taken place. Some laughed, and others 
 made observations on it. It furnished me also with 
 food for reflection. Rousseau was blunt ; he had even 
 owned it in his dispute with his friend ; he had only to 
 appropriate to himself the beneficence also, and then 
 he would have said that I wished to portray him in 
 my play. I carefully, therefore, avoided exposing my- 
 self to the effects of ill-humor, and I never saw him 
 again. This man had received the most excellent 
 qualities from nature, and he gave striking proofs of it ; 
 but he was of the Protestant Reformed religion, and 
 he composed works which were not orthodox. For 
 this he was obliged to leave France, which he had 
 adopted as his country; and this disaster chagrined
 
 400 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 him. He believed he was treated with injustice "by 
 mankind, whom he consequently was led to despise, 
 and this feeling could not be of any advantage to him. 
 What a number of generous offers and protections he 
 refused! His garret became dearer in his eyes than a 
 palace. Some discovered grandeur of soul in his con- 
 duct, while others saw only pride in it. At all events 
 he was much to be pitied; his weaknesses did injury 
 to nobody, and his talents rendered him respectable. 
 He died as he lived, like a philosopher ; and the repub- 
 lic of letters is indebted to the generous individual who 
 honored his ashes. 
 
 In the month of May, 1771, the marriage of the Count 
 de Provence, the grandson of Louis XV., and brother 
 of the dauphin, with Maria Louisa of Savoy, eldest 
 daughter of the King of Sardinia, was celebrated at 
 Versailles. This important event redoubled the joy of 
 the French, for the prince in question was beloved by 
 his country, and rendered himself still more interesting 
 by his virtues and talents ; and the princess, from her 
 abilities and her information, became the delight of 
 her husband. 
 
 In the year 1771, and in the midst of the court rejoic- 
 ings, Madame Louisa, daughter of Louis XV., quitted 
 the world, and shut herself up for life in a cloister. She 
 selected the most humble and austere of all the orders. 
 This pious princess took the veil of St. Theresa, 
 among the Carmelites of St. Denis. She had no reason 
 to fear that the royal abode would prevent her from 
 exercising her piety and her virtues ; but the corruption 
 of our age required an august example to bring timid 
 souls back to the way of perfection, and God made 
 choice of a princess of the blood of the Bourbons for 
 their encouragement.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 401 
 
 VIL 
 
 I had done nothing since the success of my " Surly 
 Benefactor." I said jokingly, that I wished to repose 
 on my laurels ; but it was the fear of not succeeding a 
 second time as well as the first, which prevented me 
 from satisfying the desires of my friends and myself. 
 At length I yielded to the Solicitations of others and 
 my own self-love. I cast my eyes on the " Ostenta- 
 tious Miser,'' a character so frequently to he met with 
 in nature, that I had only to fear the too great num- 
 ber of originals. I took my protagonist from among 
 the class of upstarts, to avoid the danger of coming in 
 contact with the higher classes. This piece, which is 
 very little known, and which many people would wish 
 to know, underwent singular adventures. 
 
 The first person to whom I showed it when it was 
 fit to appear, was M. Preville. I had destined the 
 character of the marquis for him, and I was anxious to 
 have his opinion of that character, and of the whole of 
 my comedy. He seemed to me satisfied with both. I 
 observed to him how difficult it would be to represent 
 naturally the character he was going to undertake. " I 
 am acquainted," said he, "with this precious sort of 
 nature." After the encouragement of this valuable ac- 
 tor, I read my piece to the whole of the comedians as- 
 sembled : it had votes for and against, and was received 
 subject to correction. I was not accustomed to this sort 
 of reception. " However," said I to myself, " no pride, 
 no obstinacy." I retracted one thing here, added an- 
 other there, corrected, polished, and embellished my 
 work. A second reading took place, and the piece 
 was received and placed in the repertory for the jour- 
 ney to Fontainebleau.
 
 402 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 It was to be acted among the first at the Court Thea- 
 tre. M. Proville fell sick on arriving there: he re- 
 mained a month confined in bed, but recovered towards 
 the end of the visit, and "The Ostentatious Miser" 
 was destined for the eve of the king's departure. All 
 the ministers, strangers, and people in office had taken 
 their departure : the actors were fatigued ; they had no 
 great desire to study, and still less to rehearse. I saw 
 the critical situation of my piece, and very modestly 
 demanded if it were possible to suspend the represen- 
 tation of it. There were no others on the repertory, 
 and I was made to believe that it could not be dis- 
 pensed with. 
 
 I went to the first representation, and took my or- 
 dinary position in the bottom of the theatre, behind 
 the curtain. So few people were present, that the fa- 
 vorable or unfavorable impression made by the piece 
 could not be perceived, and it finished without any sign 
 of either approbation or reprobation. I returned home 
 without seeing any one. Everybody packed up for 
 their departure, and T did the same ; and we all took 
 our departure accordingly. On the road I had time 
 for reflection : the freezing coldness with which my 
 work was listened to, might proceed from the empti- 
 ness of the house, ami the circumstances of the moment; 
 but I saw that some of the actors had mistaken their 
 characters. I have nothing to say with respect to M. 
 Preville, as his part was extremely difficult, and he had 
 not sufficient time to familiarize himself with those 
 broken phrases which require a deal of ingenuity to 
 make the audience comprehend what the actor does 
 not pronounce. My great fault was in not remonstrat- 
 ing and using interest to prevent my piece from being 
 acted at Fontainebleau. Thus, in recapitulating my
 
 CARLO GOLDONL 403 
 
 mistakes, I wrote to the actors oil my arrival in Paris, 
 and I instantly withdrew my piece. 
 
 My Mends were impatiently desirous of seeing my 
 
 '• Ostentations Miser" on the Btage of Paris; and they 
 '.vert- all displeased to learn that I had withdrawn it. 
 They grumbled, they solicited, they teased me to allow 
 it to be again represented, and I was informed, by way 
 of encouragement, of the number of pieces which, 
 though unfortunate at their first representation, after- 
 wards recovered. They were in the right, perhaps, 
 and I should have followed their advice and satisfied 
 their wishes, if the actors had given me any reason to 
 think they were desirous of again appearing in it ; but 
 they were apparently as much disgusted with it as 
 myself: it was horn under an unfortunate planet, the 
 influence of which I dreaded. I condemned it, there- 
 fore, to oblivion, and my rigor went so far that I refused 
 it to those persons who demanded a reading of it. I 
 could not, however, resist the demand of one of the 
 principal nobles of the kingdom, whose prayers are 
 commands. I did homage to him with my comedy, 
 the reading of which was undertaken by a lady. She 
 acquitted herself with the facility and grace which are 
 natural to her ; but on the first entrance of the mar- 
 quis, she was taken by surprise at the singularity of 
 the character, of which she had not received any pre- 
 vious idea. 
 
 M. laid hold of the original, and read this and 
 
 all the other scenes where this character is introduced, 
 with such ease and precision that he might have been 
 taken for the author of the work. 1 own that I could 
 not contain my joy and my admiration. Every person 
 was satisfied with the reading; I was in a house dis- 
 tinguished for kindness and attention, and I could 
 expect nothing but compliments.
 
 404 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The marriage of the Count d 'Artois, the brother of 
 Louis XVI. with Maria Theresa of Savoy, the daughter 
 of the King of Sardinia and the sister of madame, was 
 celebrated in the month of November, 1773, at Ver- 
 sailles. About this time the Chevalier John Mocenigo, 
 the Venetian ambassador, came to succeed the Cheva- 
 lier Sebastian Mocenigo, his younger brother, whose 
 embassy was expired. This new minister of the re- 
 public was one of my old protectors ; he had given me 
 the most undoubted proofs of his benevolence ; he had 
 lodged me and my family a long time in his house ; 
 and with the Balbi, the Quirini, the Berengan, and the 
 Barbarigo families, he protected my first Florence edi- 
 tion, and facilitated its entrance into the city of Venice, 
 notwithstanding the barbarous war earned on against 
 me by the booksellers. I received a fresh mark of his 
 kindness for me on the occasion of his marriage with 
 the niece of the Doge Loredan, when he wrote me the 
 following note : — 
 
 " The most serene Doge has permitted me to invite a few of 
 my friends to the nuptials ; you are of the numher; I request 
 your presence ; you will find your place." 
 
 I did not fail. There was a table for a hundred 
 guests in the banqueting-hall, and another for twenty- 
 four, the honors of which were done by the Doge's 
 nephew; I was of the last party; but at the second 
 course we all quitted our place and repaired to the great 
 hall, making the tour of that immense apartment, and 
 seating ourselves behind one another. I in particular 
 enjoyed the kindness which was lavished on an author 
 who had been so fortunate as to give pleasure. 
 
 I have always felt a kindness for my countrymen, 
 and welcomed them to my house. I have more than 
 once been deceived, it is true, but unprincipled individ-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 405 
 
 uals have never disgusted me with the pleasure of ren- 
 dering myself useful ; and I natter myself that no Ital- 
 ian ever went away from me dissatisfied. Enchanted 
 with being in France, I love to converse from time to 
 time with the people of my own country, or Frenchmen 
 who can speak Italian. 
 
 Our Italian literature is very much relished in France, 
 and our hooks well received and paid for ; the libraries 
 of Paris are stocked with them. The late M. Floncel 
 possessed a library of sixteen thousand volumes, all in 
 the Italian language. M. Molini, an Italian bookseller 
 in the capital, carries on a considerable trade in Italian 
 books. The number of copies of my comedies sold in 
 this country is prodigious ; and the eagerness displayed 
 in subscribing to the new and superb edition of the 
 works of Metastasio is still more so. 
 
 To the joy diffused by the marriage of the three 
 princes throughout the kingdom, the most gloomy sad- 
 ness succeeded. Louis XV. feimij the small-pox soon 
 broke out ; the kind was the most malignant and com- 
 plicated, and this king, who possessed the most vigor- 
 ous and excellent constitution, fell a victim to the 
 violence of this scourge to mankind. What an afflic- 
 tion for France, which had conferred on him the title 
 of " Well-beloved " ! What a desolation for his family, 
 by whom he was adored ! What a loss for his old ser- 
 vants, who were more attached to him through senti- 
 ment than duty ! He was the most forgiving king, the 
 most tender father, and the kindest master ; the quali- 
 ties of his heart were excellent, and his mental advan- 
 tages were great. But Providence has given him a 
 successor possessed of numerous virtues. Goodness, 
 justice, clemency, benevolence, are duties imposed on 
 all those whom God has destined for the government
 
 406 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of mankind : it is his personal qualities for which he is 
 chieîly distinguished; his merits, his correct conduct, 
 his zeal for the public good, and for the peace and tran- 
 quillity of Europe: his religion and moderation, the 
 probity which he exacts, the example which he gives. 
 — these are rare virtues, and much more esseutially use- 
 ful to the state than the spirit of conquest : they are 
 inexhaustible sources of praise and immortal glory. 
 
 Alas ! what vicissitudes in human life ! Here I am 
 obliged to commemorate a fresh subject of dread and 
 grief. The three daughters of Louis XV., who never 
 quitted their father's bed during his illness, began to 
 display the same symptoms, and incur the same danger. 
 These princesses were too interesting not to excite a 
 general alarm respecting their situation. God preserved 
 them to us ; God snatched from the arms of death this 
 heroic example of filial love. The princesses passed 
 the period of their convalescence at Choisi. I partici- 
 pated in the general grief at this melancholy conjuncture, 
 and I went in their train to breathe the salutary air of 
 that delightful place. 
 
 On returning to Paris, I heard of a projected mar- 
 riage between Madame Çlotilde, the sister of the King 
 of France, and the Prince of Piedmont, the presump- 
 tive heir of the crown of Sardinia. This piece of news 
 was very interesting to me, and I went to A'ersailles 
 for the sake of being better informed respecting it. The 
 account was verified, but a mysterious silence was ob- 
 served, and it was not till seven mouths before the mar- 
 riage that I received orders to attend on the princess, 
 for the sake of giving her some instruction in the Italian 
 language. I obeyed ; but what could she learn in the 
 space of seven months ? I took care not to proceed in 
 the common way with her. She was well acquainted
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 407 
 
 with the French grammar, and T only taught her the 
 auxiliary verbe of the Italian. I made her read a great 
 deal; the remarks and short digressions which I inter- 
 mixed with this reading were of more ose to her, in my 
 opinion, than along catalogue of rules and seholastie 
 difficulties. 
 
 My readings had still a more important and interest- 
 ing tendency : I made her acquainted with the classical 
 Italian authors by name, related anecdotes respecting 
 them, and mentioned the titles of their works ; and I 
 endeavored to instruct her in the Italian manners and 
 customs. This kind and complaisant princess had a 
 wonderful facility in learning, and a very excellent 
 memory. I went every day, and she made an aston- 
 ishing progress : but xmr conferences were frequently 
 interrupted by jeweliers, dealers in trinkets, painters, 
 and shopkeepers. Sometimes I entered the room to 
 witness the choice of stuffs, the price paid for jewels, 
 and the resemblance of the portraits. 1 endeavored to 
 derive some advantage from these very inconveniences; 
 I made her repeat in Italian the names of what she had 
 seen, what she had priced, and what she purchased or 
 refused. 
 
 We had other circumstances to call off our attention, 
 — a journey to Rheims, for the consecration of the 
 king, and the birth of the Duke d'Àngoulême. This 
 prince, son to the Count d'Artois, was the first fruit of 
 the three marriages of the French princes, and, as his 
 birth could not fail to be interesting to the state, the 
 rejoicings were proportionate to the public joy. My 
 august scholar, notwithstanding all these interruptions, 
 contrived to turn her time to considerable profit She 
 pronounced Italian tolerably well, and read it still bet- 
 ter. She could read and understand the epithalamiums
 
 408 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 destined for her by the Piedmontese poets. The mar- 
 riage was celebrated by deputy towards the end of 
 August, 17T5. in the chapel of Versailles. The publie 
 rejoicings were super!» and magnificent The princess 
 
 departed, universally adored and regretted. All who 
 had ever served, or approached her presence, received 
 marks of her goodness. It is not extraordinary that 
 in so great a crowd some one should be forgotten ; but 
 it was unfortunate that this accident should happen 
 to me. 
 
 With respect to my services and expenses, I de- 
 manded nothing, and I received nothing, but still I was 
 persuaded that I should not be a loser. I kept myself 
 quiet, therefore, and said nothing. Persons who inter- 
 ested themselves in my affairs grew impatient at my 
 silence, and took steps to know the course I ought to 
 adopt. They had more penetration than myself, and 
 their mediation was of great utility to me. It was be- 
 lieved at court that my pension of thirty-six hundred 
 livres obliged me to serve the whole royal family. They 
 were not aware that it was given me by way of recom- 
 pense for having taught Italian to the princesses. Those 
 who were intrusted with the outlays for the princess of 
 Piedmont were convinced that I deserved to be recom- 
 pensed ; but the affairs relating to that princess Mere 
 settled : the only recourse was to wait in patience : I 
 was to be employed for Madame Elizabeth and the sister 
 of the king, and this was the occasion for which I 
 ought to reserve my demands. 
 
 I waited long, and still kept my apartments at Ver- 
 sailles. The day at length came when I received 
 orders to wait on the Princess Elizabeth. This young, 
 lively, gay, and amiable princess was of an age much 
 more inclined to amusement than application. I had
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 409 
 
 been present at the Latin lessons which were given to 
 her, and I perceived that she possessed a great faculty 
 in learning anything, hut that she disliked to dwell on 
 minute and trilling difficulties. I followed, with very 
 little variation, the mode adopted by me with the 
 Princess of Piedmont ; I did not torment her with 
 declinations and conjugations calculated to disgust her ; 
 she wished to make an amusement of her occupation, 
 and I endeavored to make my lessons agreeable con- 
 versations. When my comedies were read, in the 
 scenes of two characters, the princess and her maid of 
 honor read and translated each their part ; and when 
 there were three characters a lady of the company 
 took the third. I translated the others when there 
 happened to be moror This exercise was useful and 
 amusing ; but can we flatter ourselves that young peo- 
 ple will long be amused with the same thing f "We 
 passed from prose to verse. Metastasio occupied my 
 august scholar for some time. I endeavored to satisfy 
 lier, and she was deserving of it ; for it was the most 
 gentle and agreeable service in the world. 
 
 I was growing old, however ; the air of Versailles 
 did not agree with me ; the winds which prevail there, 
 and which blow almost without intermission, attacked 
 my nerves, excited my old hypochondria, and subjected 
 me to palpitations. I was forced to quit the court, and 
 return to Paris, where the air we breathe is less keen, 
 and is more suitable to my temperament. My nephew, 
 though employed in the war-office, could succeed me ; 
 he had done so with the princesses, and I was certain 
 of the goodness of Madame Elizabeth. This was the 
 time to settle my affairs, and 1 did not forget myself on 
 the occasion. 1 presented a bill to the king, whieh 
 Mas patronized by the princesses. The queen had even
 
 410 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the goodness to interest herself for me, and the king 
 granted me an extraordinary gratification of six thou- 
 sand livres, and an annuity of twelve hundred livres 
 during the life of myself and nephew. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 In the year 1777 a new comic opera was demanded 
 from me for Venice. I had resolved not to compose 
 any more, but, imagining that the same work might 
 be of utility to me at Paris, I consented to satisfy my 
 friends, and composed a piece calculated to please in 
 an equal degree the two nations. Its title was " I 
 Volponi n (The Foxes). They were courtiers jealous 
 of a stranger, to whom they showed a vast deal of 
 politeness, by way of amusing him, while they plotted 
 his ruin. This piece contained interest, intrigue, and 
 gayety, and inculcated an important moral lesson. 
 
 It was then in agitation to bring to Paris the actors 
 of the Italian comic opera, whom we call I Buffi, and 
 who are here Buffoons (Bouffons). This expression 
 would be considered as insulting in Italy, but it is not 
 so in France. It is merely a bad translation. The 
 music of the good daughter of M. Piccini of the colony 
 of M. Sacchini, and the progress which the taste for 
 Italian singing made every day at Paris, determined 
 the directors of the opera to introduce this foreign en- 
 tertainment, which was represented on the great theatre 
 of this city. I was intimately flattered with this pro- 
 ject, and I had the temerity to believe myself necessary 
 to its execution. Nobody knew more of the Italian 
 comic opera than myself. I was aware that for several 
 years nothing had been given in Italy but farces, of 
 which the music was excellent and the poetry wretched.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 411 
 
 I saw what was wanting to render this entertainment 
 agreeable at Paris. New words were wanting, new 
 dramas in the French taste. I had performed this 
 task more than once for London, and I was secure of 
 my purpose, Nobody can be more useful than myself 
 on a similar occasion. I knew from experience how 
 dime alt and laborious this work was; hut I should 
 have applied to it with infinite pleasure for the sake of 
 the thing itself, and the honor of my nation. Besides, 
 there was every reason to suppose that, if the opera of 
 Paris sent for foreign actors, they would not be eon- 
 tented with their old music, but would employ M. Pic- 
 cini, who was here, or M. Saccbini, who was at London, 
 in the composition of new. 
 
 I kept my comic opera therefore in readiness, and I 
 was almost certain that I should he employed in the 
 composition of others ; for I did not think it suitable 
 to the dignity of the principal theatre of this nation to 
 entertain the public for a length of time with the music 
 which had been already sung in the concerts and parties 
 of Paris. I was in expectation, therefore, of being 
 spoken to, consulted, and engaged. Alas ! nobody 
 ever said a word to me on the subject. The Italian 
 actors arrived at Paris. I knew some of them, but I 
 did not go to see them. I was not present at their de- 
 but. Some of them were good, and some indifferent ; 
 their music was excellent ; but the entertainment did 
 not succeed, as I had fi treseen, on account of the dramas, 
 which were of a nature to displease the French and to 
 dishonor Italy. 
 
 My self-love might have been flattered at seeing my 
 prediction verified, but I was in reality very much dis- 
 tressed at it. 1 was too meat a lover of the comic 
 opera, and I should have heeu enchanted to have heard
 
 412 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Italian music to Italian words ; but then such words 
 were requisite as could be read with pleasure, and 
 translated into French without a blush. Translations 
 of these wretched operas were printed and published. 
 The best translation was the most insupportable ; for 
 the more accurately the translators endeavored to render 
 their text, the more the dulness of the originals be- 
 came evident. I supposed this Italian company would 
 leave the place at the close of the year ; but their en- 
 gagement was probably for two, and they remained all 
 the following year. During this second year they did 
 me the honor to bring me one of their wretched dramas 
 to patch up : but it was too late, the evil was done, 
 and this species of entertainment was cried down. I 
 might have supported it in its beginning, but I did not 
 believe it was in my power to raise it after the crisis 
 which it had experienced. 
 
 I must also own that I was piqued at having been 
 forgotten at the proper moment. I do not recollect 
 having for a long time experienced a similar degree of 
 mortification. Some said, by way of consolation, that 
 the directors of the opera thought this employment 
 beneath me. The directors knew nothing of the mat- 
 ter they had in hand ; if they had had the goodness to 
 have consulted me, I should have shown them that 
 they wanted an author and not a cobbler. Others told 
 me (perhaps without any foundation for saying so) that 
 it was feared Goldoni would be too dear. I should 
 have labored for the honor of the thing, had they known 
 how to go to work with me ; I should have been high- 
 priced had they haggled with me; but my labors would 
 have indemnified them : and I think I may venture to 
 say that this entertainment would have been still in 
 existence at Paris.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 413 
 
 In the month of January, 1778, there were rejoicings 
 at court and in the city for the birth of the Duke 
 of Berry, son of the Count d'Artois. But what was 
 the joy of the French when the pregnancy of the queen 
 was declared the same year ! She was delivered in the 
 month of December of a princess, who was instantly 
 named Maria Theresa Charlotte of France, with the 
 title of madame, the daughter of the king. This first 
 fruit of the king's marriage was considered as the pre- 
 cursor of the dauphin, who was impatiently expected, 
 and who, after three years, crowned at last the wishes 
 of the French. The rejoicings on this occasion, and 
 on the queen's recovery, corresponded with the circum- 
 stances of the times. France was then engaged in a 
 war which she did "not provoke, but which she was 
 obliged to continue for the honor of the nation — 
 
 Alas ! I am seized with a violent palpitation this 
 very moment, — this is an habitual ailment with me, I 
 cannot go on — 
 
 I resume the chapter which I left off yesterday. My 
 palpitation has been more vehement and of longer du- 
 ration this time than usual. It attacked me at four 
 o'clock in the afternoon, and did not leave me till 
 two o'clock in the morning. The palpitation is not 
 periodical ; it attacks me several times in the year, in 
 all seasons, and at ail times, sometimes when fasting, 
 sometimes at dinner, sometimes after dinner, and very 
 rarely during the night. But what is most singular in 
 its symptoms, I feel when it is coming on a commotion 
 in my bowels, my pulse rises and beats with alarming 
 violence, my muscles are in convulsion, and my breast 
 
 is oppressed. 
 
 I feel when it is going to stop a beating in my head, 
 and my- pulse gradually returns to its natural state.
 
 414 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 There are no gradations in the attacks or in the cessa- 
 tion. It is an inconceivable phenomenon, which can 
 be explained by a comparison with swooning. 
 
 Accustomed to this infirmity, which is more alarm- 
 ing than painful, I learned to bear it without dread, 
 and, by way of drawing my attention from it, I gen- 
 erally continued my dinner if it attacked me at table, 
 or continued my game if taken by surprise in com- 
 pany. Nobody perceived the state I was in, and as 
 at my age we must learn to put up with our enemies, 
 I made no attempts to get cured, lest in endeavoring 
 to avoid the Gulf of Scylla, I should fall into that of 
 Charybdis. But I was seized with a palpitation of 
 thirty-six hours' continuance about four years ago, and 
 this appearing in rather a serious light to me, I had 
 recourse to my physician. Af. Guilbert de Preval, the 
 regent of the College of Physicians of Paris, stopped 
 it instantly, and without giving me anything which 
 could at all derange my system ; he merely retarded 
 the attacks in future, and diminished the duration of 
 them. M. Preval has made himself enemies in the 
 body to which he belongs. It is said that there is a 
 law aim rag them that no member of their society shall 
 make use of new remedies without communicating 
 them to his brethren. This M. Preval has not done, 
 through fear perhaps lest his remedy should become 
 useless, like so many others in the hands of everybody. 
 He distributes it in his house. The poor are there 
 relieved, and the rich are not subjected to extortion. 
 Happy the man. it is said, whoso physician is his 
 friend. M. Preval is the friend of all his patients, as 
 he is the friend of humanity.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 415 
 
 IX. 
 
 On leaving Venice I left my niece in a convent 
 there. On attaining the age of twenty, an age when 
 it became necessary to decide whether she chose the 
 cloister or to mix in the world, I interrogated her 
 from time to time in my letters respecting lier inclina- 
 tions. She professed to have no other will than mine. 
 As I had no wish hut to satisfy her, I thought there 
 was something mysterious concealed under this sem- 
 blance of modesty, and I requested one of my pro- 
 tectors to have the goodness to sound her with address. 
 
 All that he could draw from her was, that so long 
 as she was in chains she would never communicate 
 her way of thinking. From this I conjectured that she 
 was not fond of the convent. So much the better: I 
 possessed only entailed property, which may he given 
 as a portion, hut the nuns take nothing hut ready 
 money. 
 
 I wrote a letter to the lady at the head of the con- 
 vent ; and the senator to whom I intrusted it went 
 with his lady to the convent and brought her away 
 with them to their house. When there, she did not 
 express herself in the clearest terms ; but, however, as 
 much so as her modesty would permit. She did not 
 wish to be married, but she disliked the convent. 
 
 My niece could not long remain in a patrician 
 family, and she was boarded in a very prudent and 
 respectable one. M. Chiaruzzi, the landlord of Made- 
 moiselle Groldoni, took care of my affairs at the same 
 time and his wife attended to those of the young woman. 
 In two years his wife died, and the husband demanded 
 my niece in marriage. She seemed satisfied, and I
 
 416 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was completely so : my nephew and myself assigned 
 to him all our Italian property, and we set our hands 
 to the necessary writings before M. Lormeau, a notary 
 at Paris. The signature of a man of his probity was 
 a lucky omen to the new couple ; and in reality the 
 marriage turned out very happy. 
 
 This event was necessary for my tranquillity. I 
 had taken the charge of the two children of my brother. 
 I saw my nephew in a tolerable situation under my- 
 self, and I was glad to see my niece settled. My 
 satisfaction would have been at its height if I could 
 have been present at the marriage ; but I was too old 
 for a journey of three hundred leagues. 
 
 I am well, thank God; but I require precautions 
 for my strength and health. I read every day, and 
 consult attentively the " Treatise on Old Age," by M. 
 Robert, doctor-regent of the faculty of Paris. 
 
 Our physicians in general take care of us when we 
 are unwell, and endeavor to cure us ; but they do not 
 embarrass themselves with our regimen when we are 
 in good health. From this book I derived instruction 
 and correction. It showed me the degree of vigor 
 which I might still possess, and the necessity of taking 
 care of it. The work is composed in the form of 
 letters; when I read it, I imagined the author speak- 
 ing to me : in every page, I fall in with and recognize 
 myself; the advices are salutary without being bur- 
 densome : li* j is not so severe as the school of Salerno, 
 and does not prescribe the regimen of Louis Cornaro, 
 who lived a hundred years as a valetudinary that he 
 might die in good health. 
 
 M. Robert is a very wise and intelligent man; he is 
 one of those who have studied Nature with the utmost 
 attention, and best know her course. I became ac-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 417 
 
 quainted with him at the house of M. Fagnan, one of 
 the principal secretaries of the royal treasury, where 
 we frequently met one another; and Madame Fagnan, 
 his widow, who is possessed of talents, graces, and 
 good sense, still continues to receive the intimate friends 
 of her husband with the same cordiality. 
 
 An interesting discovery was made at this time. 
 M. de Montgolfier was the first who darted a globe 
 into the air. The globe rose higher than the eye could 
 reach, at the mercy of the winds, and supported itself 
 till the extinction of the name and smoke by which it 
 was fed. This first experiment gave rise to other 
 speculations. M. Charles, a very learned physician, 
 employed inflammable air. The globes filled with this 
 gas require no management to preserve them for a 
 greater length of time, and are secure from catching 
 fire. There were men possessed of sufficient courage 
 to confide their lives to the curds which supported a sort 
 of basket, and who allowed themselves to be fastened 
 to the frail balloon, subject to evident danger and 
 events impossible to be foreseen. The Marquis d'Ar- 
 landi and M. Pilastre de Rosier made the first attempt, 
 according to the method of M. de Montgolfier; and 
 M. Charles shortly afterwards took flight himself, by 
 means of his inflammable air. 
 
 I could not look at them without trembling. Be- 
 sides, what was the use of all this risk and courage ! 
 If we can only fly at the mercy of the wind, and can- 
 not direct the machine, the discovery, however admi- 
 rable, will remain of no utility, and a mere plaything. 
 
 The rage of discoveries has taken possession of the 
 minds of the Parisians to such a violent degree that 
 they run after everything miraculous. Some time ago 
 there was a belief in the existence of somnambulists,
 
 418 MEMOIES OF 
 
 Who spoke sensibly, and to the purpose, with persons 
 awake, and had the faculty of divining the past and 
 for» îseein y the future. This illusion did not make any 
 great progress: but there was another almost at the 
 same time which imposed on all Paris. 
 
 A letter dated from Lyons announced a man who 
 had f<»und out a way to walk on water dry-fo<>ted. and 
 proposed to make the experiment in the capital. He 
 demanded a subscription to indemnify him for his ex- 
 penses and trouble ; the subscription was instantly 
 filled up, and the day fixed on for his crossing the 
 Seine. This man did not make his appearance on the 
 day fixed for that purpose, and pretexts were found for 
 prolonging the farce. It was at length discovered that 
 a wag of Lyons had taken this way of amusing himself 
 with the credulity of the inhabitants of Paris. His 
 intention was not apparently to insult a city of eight 
 hundred thousand inhabitants ; and we may suppose 
 he assigned good reasons, by way of excuse, for the 
 joke, as nothing serious happened to him. What in- 
 duced the Parisians to believe in this invention was 
 the "■ Journal de Paris." which announced it as a truth 
 confirmed by experiments. The authors of this jour- 
 nal were themselves deceived, and justified themselves 
 amply in publishing the letters by which they were 
 imposed ou. witli the names of those who wrote and 
 addressed them to their office. Three years afterwards 
 a stranger came to Paris who in reality, in the sight 
 of au immense number of people, crossed the river 
 dry-footed. This man made a mystery of the means 
 employed by him in his experiment. He carefully con- 
 cealed the shoes used by him in cr<»ssing. Probably 
 he wished to sell his secret at a high price; but the 
 small advantages which could be derived from it did
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 419 
 
 not seem to deserve the trouble. It is not unlikely 
 that he had beneath his two feet something of the shape 
 of a boat or canoe. We may find 1 >< »at^ at all rivers 
 where we want to cross them. We seldom require any 
 extraordinary assistance for this purpose : and when 
 we do we cannot always carry about with us these 
 machines, which are neither light nor of easy carriage. 
 This experiment, however, afforded a fresh justification 
 to the authors of the " Journal de Paris," who had fore- 
 Been the possibility of this discovery. 
 
 X. 
 
 I AM now drawing near to the conclusion of my 
 Memoirs, and I support with courage the fatigue of a 
 task which begins to weary me ; but a fatal event, 
 which it is now incumbent on me to mention in this 
 place, makes me feel the disagreeable nature of the 
 burden which I have imposed on myself. 
 
 In the year l/eo" Madame Sophia of France departed 
 this life. What a loss for the court ! What an afflic- 
 tion for her affectionate sisters ! Her virtues rendered 
 her respectable, and her gentleness of disposition in- 
 spired all who knew her with love and confidence. 
 Her benevolent heart anticipated the wants of indi- 
 gence, and she made incredible efforts to conceal her 
 wit under the veil of piety and modesty. This princess 
 was lamented and regretted by all who had the honor 
 of approaching her, and by myself not less than others. 
 I found some consolation with Madame Tacher and the 
 Marchioness of Chabot, her daughter, who had the 
 same cause for affliction that I had. The conversation 
 of these ladies renewed the memory of my loss, and 
 their kindness for me alleviated my grief.
 
 420 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 It is not, however, usual -with me to be affected in 
 the keenest manner at the death of my friends or 
 relations. I possess a feeling disposition; and the 
 smallest ailment, the slightest inconvenience which 
 happens to them, affects and grieves me in the extreme; 
 whereas I look coolly on death as the tribute we owe 
 to nature, and against which we must derive consola- 
 tion in our reason. How happens it then that I am 
 still as much afflicted for the loss of my august scholan 
 as the first day afterwards ? In the justice which I 
 render to merit, am I to be suspected of self-love or 
 vanity? Alas ! my friends do me the favor to believe 
 that it proceeds rather from gratitude. 
 
 In the year 1783 the opera of "Dido," written by 
 M. Marmontel, and set to music by M. Piccini, was 
 represented for the first time. It is, in my opinion, 
 the masterpiece of the one and the triumph of the 
 other. Xo musical drama approaches nearer to real 
 tragedy than this. M. Marm< >ntel has imitated nobody ; 
 he has appropriated the fable to himself, and given it 
 all the probability and regularity of which such a work 
 is susceptible. Some say that Marmontel took his 
 drama from Metastasis >, but they are mistaken. " Dido " 
 was the first work of the Italian poet ; we discover in 
 it strong marks of a superior genius, but we may re- 
 mark at the same time the errors of youth ; and the 
 French author would not have succeeded had he en- 
 deavored to imitate it. 
 
 " The Marriage of Figaro" had the greatest success 
 at the French Theatre, because the author put before 
 this title that of " The Frolicsome Day " (Folle Jour- 
 née). Nobody is better acquainted with the defects of 
 his piece than M. Beaumarchais himself; he has given 
 proof of his talents in this department ; and had he
 
 CARLO GOLDONI. 421 
 
 wished to make a regular comedy of his " Figaro," he 
 would have succeeded as well as another : but he 
 merely attempted to divert the public ; and this object 
 he completely attained. The success of this comedy 
 was extraordinary in every respect. At the comic 
 theatres of Paris two or three pieces are regularly acted 
 every day; hut "Figaro" constituted the sole enter- 
 tainment : the puhlic flocked to it two or three hours 
 before the drawing up of the curtain, aud waited three 
 quarters of an hour later than ordinary without being 
 wearied or betraying the slightest symptoms of discon- 
 tent. It is now at its eighty-sixth representation, and 
 is applauded as much as ever ; and what is most sin- 
 gular, those very persons-who criticise it at leaving the 
 theatre are the first to return and to amuse themselves 
 with what they have been censuring. 
 
 M. de Beaumarchais gave, some years before, a 
 comedy entitled u The Barber of Seville," and the 
 same Spaniard who bore the name of u Figaro," con- 
 stituted the principal subject of " The Frolicsome Day." 
 The former of these two pieces was highly relished and 
 applauded. The author had been implicated in a law- 
 suit, and defended his cause himself; the papers writ- 
 ten by him were gay, droll, and excellently composed ; 
 they were universally read, and the general subject of 
 conversation. He had the address to insert in "The 
 Barber of Seville," under feigned names, anecdotes 
 which recalled the memory of his lawsuit, and covered 
 his adversaries with ridicule ; all which contributed 
 very much to the success of his piece. In " The Mar- 
 riage of Figaro" there were no sarcasms levelled against 
 individuals, but an abundance against all descriptions 
 of people. Nobody, however, could complain, as the 
 criticisms were directed against vice and ridicule which
 
 422 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 were everywhere to be met with. Those who find 
 themselves in the predicament which is the object of 
 the general satire, have no right to complain. 
 
 The connoisseurs and amateurs of the correct models 
 complained loudly against these two works, which, as 
 they said, had a tendency to degrade the French theatre : 
 they observed their countrymen carried away by a sort 
 of fanatical contagion ; and they dreaded lest the disease 
 should become universal. Experience, however, has 
 demonstrated the contrary. There were exhibited at 
 the same time, on the boards of the French Theatre, 
 new plays of a very different description, which met 
 with all the success that could be expected : for ex- 
 ample, " The Coriolanus" of M. de la Harpe, " The 
 Seducer" of M. Bievre, " The Difficult Avowals," and 
 " The False Coquette " of M. Vigé. This last author 
 was even encouraged by the public ; these first displays 
 of his talents were considered as in the very best tasle, 
 tone, and style, and such as to give every reason to 
 hope that he would prove himself the prop of good 
 comedy. 
 
 Towards the close of the year 1784, whilst I was 
 engaged in the second part of my Memoirs, one of my 
 friends spoke to me of a business very much connected 
 with that I was employed in. 
 
 A literary gentleman whom T have not the honor 
 of knowing sent one of my comedies, translated by 
 him into French, to M. Courcelle of the Italian theatre, 
 requesting the actor to present it to me, and to get it 
 acted if I was pleased with his translation, with the 
 understanding, as he very kindly chose to state, that 
 the honor and profit were to belong to the author. 
 The piece in question was entitled in Italian ''Un 
 Curioso Accidente" (A Droll Adventure). The trans-
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 423 
 
 lation appeared to me exact ; the style was not in my 
 manner, but every one has his own. The translator 
 changed the title into that of " The Dupe of Himself," 
 which I do not disapprove. I gave my consent to the 
 representation, the comedians received it at the reading 
 with acclamation ; it was given the following year, 
 and completely foiled. One part of the piece which 
 occasioned the greatest pleasure in Italy shocked the 
 Parisian public ; I know the French delicacy, and I 
 ought to have foreseen the consequence, but as the 
 translation was executed by a Frenchman, and it was 
 applauded by the actors, I allowed myself to be guided 
 by them. Had I been present at the rehearsals, I 
 should have anticipated the danger ; but I was unwell, 
 and the comedians were eager to produce it. I had 
 distributed several tickets for the first representation, 
 and nobody came to give me any information respect- 
 ing it. This did not look well. I went to bed, how- 
 ever, without learning anything of the event ; but my 
 barber, with the tears in his eyes, gave me an account 
 of the solemn condemnation of the piece. I instantly 
 withdrew it ; and as I felt myself a good deal better 
 that day, I dined with a very good appetite. 
 
 Long accustomed both to a favorable and unfavor- 
 able reception from the public, I can do that public 
 justice without any sacrifice of my tranquillity. The 
 most disagreeable part of the business was that no- 
 body called on me, or inquired how my recovery was 
 going on. I wrote to my friends to learn whether my 
 piece had incensed them against me. It was, on the 
 contrary, the excess of their friendship and sensibility 
 which prevented them from giving vent to their cha- 
 grin before me. When we saw one another again, I 
 was obliged to assume the office of consoler.
 
 424 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The public rejoicings induced me to quit my room, 
 and indemnified me for the illness and the unpleasant 
 circumstances experienced by me. The queen was 
 delivered of another prince; on the 27th of March, 
 1785, the Duke of Normandy was born. The usual 
 illuminations took place at Paris, but certain rich indi- 
 viduals distinguished themselves on this occasion in a 
 new and noble manner. The fronts of their palaces 
 were adorned from top to bottom with a number of 
 illuminated designs, executed with great skill. It was 
 impossible for decorations to be more striking or splen- 
 did. This new taste will, in all probability, be con- 
 tinued at Paris, and every one will wish, in future, to 
 have such a modish illumination as his circumstances 
 can afford. 
 
 Fashion has always been the rage of the French. 
 They give the ton to all Europe in whatever relates to 
 theatres, decorations, dress, trinkets, and everything 
 where pleasure is concerned. The French are every- 
 where imitated. In the beginning of every season 
 there is to be seen, in the Mercery Street at Venice, a 
 dressed figure, which is called the French doll {poupée 
 da France). This is the prototype which every 
 woman follows, and whatever resembles this original 
 is considered beautiful. The Venetian women are as 
 fond of changes as the French ; the tailors, mantua- 
 makers, and millinery shops take advantage of this; 
 and if France does not supply a sufficiency of modes, 
 the Venetian tradesmen contrive to make some slight 
 change on the doll, and to pass off their own ideas for 
 transalpine. When I gave at Venice my comedy en- 
 titled " The Country Mania," I spoke a great deal of a 
 female dress, which was called "the marriage." This 
 was a dress of a plain stuff, with a garniture of two
 
 CAKLO GOLDONI. 425 
 
 ribbons of different colors, the model of which was 
 taken from the doll. On my arrival in France I in- 
 quired if such a fashion had ever existed. Nobody 
 knew anything of it; there had never been such a 
 fashion ; it was pronounced ridiculous, and I was even 
 laughed at for asking. I experienced the same morti- 
 fication in speaking of the Polish dresses, which were 
 adopted by the women in Italy when I left it. Twelve 
 years afterwards, when I saw the Polish dresses at 
 Paris, I was quite charmed with them. The mode in 
 dress, it is true, experienced a long interregnum in 
 Prance ; but it has again resumed its ancient empire. 
 What a number of changes in a short time ! Polish 
 and Jewish dresses, furs, English and Turkish dresses, 
 frocks, pierrots, hats of a hundred shapes, bonnets 
 without number, and head-dresses ! — head-dresses ! 
 
 This part of the female dress, so essential for the 
 setting off their grace and beauty, was some time ago 
 at the highest point of perfection. It is now, I beg 
 pardon of the ladies for saying so, insupportable in my 
 eyes. The tousled hair, and toupees which fall over 
 their eyebrows, disfigure them sadly. Women are 
 wrong, in my opinion, in following any general mode 
 of dressing their heads; every one ought to consult 
 her glass, to examine her features, and adapt the ar- 
 rangement of her hair to the style of her countenance, 
 and make her hair-dressers follow her orders. But 
 before my Memoirs leave the press, perhaps the female 
 head-dresses, and many other fashions, will have 
 changed ; the size of the buckles and the brims of the 
 hats will be diminished, the female dresses will be 
 more noble and dignified, and the breeches of the gen- 
 tlemen will be made larger.
 
 426 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 XI. 
 I return to my regimen, — you will say here also, 
 perhaps, that I ought to omit it, — you are in the 
 right ; but all this is in my head, and I must be de- 
 livered of it by degrees ; I cannot spare you a single 
 comma. After dinner I am not fond of either working 
 or walking. Sometimes I go to the theatre, but I am 
 most generally in parties till nine o'clock in the even- 
 ing. I always return before ten o'clock. I take two 
 or three small cakes with a glass of wine and water, 
 and this is the whole of my supper. I converse with 
 my wife till midnight ; I very soon fall asleep, and 
 pass the night tranquilly. It sometimes happens to 
 me, as well as every other person, to have my head 
 occupied with something capable of retarding my 
 sleep. In this case I have a certain remedy to lull 
 myself asleep; and it is this: I had long projected 
 a vocabulary of the Venetian dialect, and I had even 
 communicated my intention to the public, who are still 
 in expectation of it. While laboring at this tedious 
 and disgusting work, I soon discovered that it threw me 
 asleep. I laid it therefore aside, and I profited by its nar- 
 cotic faculty. Whenever I feel my mind agitated by any 
 moral cause, I take at random some word of my national 
 language, and translate it into Tuscan and French. In 
 the same manner I pass in review all the words which 
 follow in the alphabetical order, and I am sure to fall 
 asleep at the third or fourth version. My recipe has 
 never once failed me. It is not difficult to demonstrate 
 the cause and effect of this phenomenon. A painful 
 idea requires to be replaced by an opposite or indiffèr- 
 ent idea ; and, the agitation of the mind once calmed, 
 the senses become tranquil, and are deadened by sleep.
 
 CARLO GOLDOXI. 427 
 
 But this remedy, however excellent, might not he 
 useful to every one. A man of too keen and feeling a 
 disposition would not succeed. The temperament must 
 
 be such as that with which nature has favored me. 
 My moral qualities hear a resemblance to my physical; 
 I dread neither cold nor heat, and I neither allow my- 
 self to he inflamed by rage uor intoxicated by joy. 
 
 I am now arrived at the year 1787. which is the 
 eightieth of my age, and that to which I have limited 
 the course of my Memoirs. I have completed my 
 eightieth year : my work is also finished. All is over, 
 and I proceed to send my volumes to the press. This 
 last chapter does not, therefore, touch on the events of 
 the current year ; but I have still some duties to dis- 
 charge. I must begin with returning thanks to those 
 persons who have reposed so much confidence in me as 
 to honor me with their subscriptions. 
 
 I do not speak of the kindness and favors of the king 
 and court : this is not the place to mention them. I 
 have named in my work some of my friends aud even 
 some of my protectors. I beg pardon of them : if I 
 have done so without their permission, it is not through 
 vanity : the occasion has suggested it ; their names 
 have dropped from my pen, the heart has seized on 
 the instant, aud the hand has not been unwilling. For 
 example, the following is one of the fortunate occasions 
 I allude to. I was unwell a few days ago ; the Couut 
 Alfieri did me the honor to call on me; I knew his 
 talents, but his conversation impressed on me the 
 wrong which I should have done in omitting him. He 
 is a very intelligent and learned literary man, who 
 principally excels in the art of Sophocles and Euripi- 
 des, and after these great models he has framed his 
 tragedies. They have gone through two editions in
 
 428 MEMOIRS OF CARLO GOLDONL 
 
 Italy, and are at present in the press of Didot at Paris. 
 I shall enter into no details respecting them, as they 
 may he seen and judged of hy every one. 
 
 I have undertaken too long and too laborious a work 
 for my age, and I have employed three years on it, 
 always dreading lest I should not have the pleasure of 
 seeing it finished. However, I am still in life, thanks 
 to God, and T Hatter myself that I shall see my vol- 
 umes, printed, distributed, and read. If they be not 
 praised, I hope at least they will not be despised. I 
 shall not be accused of vanity or presumption in daring 
 to hope for some share of favor for my Memoirs ; for, 
 had I thought that I should absolutely displease, I 
 would not have taken so much pains ; and if in the good 
 and ill which I say of myself, the balance inclines to 
 the favorable side, I owe more to nature than to study. 
 All the application employed by me, in the construc- 
 tion of my pieces, has been that of not disfiguring na- 
 ture, and all the care taken by me in my Memoirs has 
 been that of telling only the truth. The criticism of my 
 pieces may have the correction and improvement of 
 comedy in view ; but the criticism of my Memoirs will 
 be of no advantage to literature. However, if any 
 writer should think proper to employ his time on me 
 for the sole purpose of vexing me, he would lose his 
 labor. I am of a pacific disposition ; I have always 
 preserved my coolness of character ; at my age I read 
 little, and I read only amusing books. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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