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GOLDONI 
 
 A BIOGRAPHY 
 
CARLO GOLDONI. 
 Portrait by Alessandro Longhi 
 
 Museo Correr 
 
GOLDONI 
 
 A BIOGRAPHY 
 
 BY 
 
 H. C. CHATFI ELD-TAYLOR, LITT. D. 
 
 Author of Moliere: A Biography, etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE PAINTINGS OF 
 PIETRO and ALESSANDRO LONGHI 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DUFFIELD & COMPANY 
 
 MDCDXIII 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1913 
 BT DUFFIELD & COMPANY 
 
TO 
 
 BRANDER MATTHEWS 
 
 IN APPRECIATION OF GENEROUS 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 
GOLDONI 
 
 The sonnet written by Robert Browning for the al- 
 bum of the committee of the Goldoni Monument, 
 erected in Venice in 1883. 
 
 Goldoni good, gay, sunniest of souls, 
 
 Glassing half Venice in that verse of thine, 
 What though it just reflect the shade and shine 
 Of common life, nor render, as it rolls, 
 
 Grandeur and gloom? Sufficient for thy shoals 
 Was Carnival; Parini's depths enshrine 
 Secrets unsuited to that opaline 
 Surface of things which laughs along thy scrolls. 
 
 There throng the people: how they come and go, 
 Lisp the soft language, flaunt the bright garb, see, 
 On Piazza, Calle, under Portico 
 
 And over Bridge! Dear king of Comedy, 
 Be honoured! thou that didst love Venice so, 
 Venice, and we who love her, all love thee! 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PREFACE ix 
 
 I CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 3 
 
 II THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 44 
 
 III THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 83 
 
 IV THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 120 
 
 V FROM ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE . . . .152 
 
 VI PLAYWRIGHT OF THE SANT' ANGELO THEATRE . 181 
 
 VII PLAYWRIGHT OF THE SAN LUCA THEATRE . . 206 
 
 VIII COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 230 
 
 IX COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 272 
 
 X COMEDIES IN THE VENETIAN DIALECT . . . .310 
 
 XI EXOTIC COMEDIES 359 
 
 XII RIVALS AND CRITICS 389 
 
 XIII COMEDIES IN VERSE 427 
 
 XIV EXPATRIATION 464 
 
 XV DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 499 
 
 XVI GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 532 
 
 XVII CONCLUSION 561 
 
 APPENDICES: A, GOLDONI'S WORKS .... 601 
 
 B, CHRONOLOGY 638 
 
 C, BIBLIOGRAPHY 646 
 
 INDEX 669 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Portrait of Goldoni Frontispiece 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 Carnival Maskers 6 
 
 The Convent Parlour* 36 
 
 Love's Messenger 76 
 
 Pantalone and Fellow Masks no 
 
 Mountebank Jugglery 182 
 
 The Ridotto* . . 216 
 
 Cicisbei and My Lady* 238 
 
 My Lady's Toilet* 259 
 
 Goldoni in a Coffee-House 278 
 
 The Fortune-Teller 324 
 
 Common People 350 
 
 Goldoni in Colombani's Book-Shop 416 
 
 The Pastry Huckstress 462 
 
 The Dancing Lesson 490 
 
 The Card Party 574 
 
 * Attributed by Signer Aldo Rava, in his Pietro Longhi, to the manner 
 of Longhi, rather than to the Master himself. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 \ 
 
 Five years ago, the Chevalier Guido Sabetta, then 
 Italian consul in Chicago, urged me to write as a 
 companion volume to Moliere : A Biography, a life 
 of Carlo Goldoni, the "Moliere of Italy." More to 
 gratify the patriotism of my friend than from any 
 predilection for the task, I began to read the com- 
 edies of this Venetian dramatist of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury; my work had not progressed far, however, 
 before I became grateful to Signor Sabetta for hav- 
 ing pressed upon me with Italian fervour the subject 
 of a book, Goldoni being, as I soon discovered, a 
 genius of the stage to whom the English world of 
 letters has paid scant honour. Indeed, that very so- 
 briquet, the "Moliere of Italy," has sorely blinded 
 non-Italian eyes to his originality, his dramatic 
 naturalism being peculiarly his own, and his genius 
 quite distinct from that of Le Grand Comique. Al- 
 though Signor Wolf-Ferrari's pleasing music to Le 
 Donne curiose, or the occasional performance of a 
 comedy, either in the original by Italian players, or 
 in English by some college club or local dramatic 
 troupe, has made Goldoni's name appear now and 
 then on an English or American program, I venture 
 to say that it is still unknown in the English-speaking 
 world, except to the student or traveller. Goldoni's 
 
x PREFACE 
 
 fellow-countrymen, however, have written of him 
 even more generally than the French have of their 
 genius of comedy, while the second centenary of his 
 birth, celebrated in 1907, was made the occasion of 
 a demonstration more truly national than any ever 
 accorded to the memory of either Shakespeare or 
 Moliere. 
 
 In writing this biography, my intention has been 
 to tell the story of Goldoni's life for English readers, 
 and, at the same time, to trace the main currents of 
 his prolific work for the stage of his day. He wrote 
 nearly three hundred plays and libretti, and his ef- 
 forts covered practically the entire realm of the 
 drama ; yet he is eminent only as a writer of comedy, 
 I have laid particular stress, therefore, upon his 
 comedic work, my aim having been to present Gol- 
 doni not only as a fruitful dramatist, but also as a 
 naturalistic painter of life, whose comedies present a 
 vivid picture of an epoch. His memoirs, begun in 
 his seventy-seventh year and finished when he had 
 reached the ripe age of eighty, are so delightfully 
 ingenuous and frank that I have quoted freely from 
 their pages, it being my conviction that no biographer 
 can portray this merry Venetian more charmingly or 
 more faithfully than he has portrayed himself. 
 
 In the chapters devoted to the comedies, I have 
 translated all the quoted passages, whether in prose 
 or verse, using English heroic measure for the ex- 
 cerpts from the versified plays. The Italian verse 
 form most commonly employed by Goldoni is the 
 
 
PREFACE 
 
 XI 
 
 Martellian rhymed couplet, a form suggestive of the 
 French Alexandrine, and like it opposed to the spirit 
 of our language. It has seemed wise, therefore, to 
 use, as I did for my translations of Moliere's Alexan- 
 drines, the blank verse measure of our own dramatic 
 poetry, rather than attempt to render in English 
 Goldoni's rhymed heptameters. 
 
 In order that the reader, unacquainted with Ital- 
 ian, may understand their significance, the titles of 
 Goldoni's plays, as well as those by other writers 
 of the period, have been translated. The first time 
 a play is mentioned, or when it becomes the subject 
 of special comment, I have, as in Mo Here: A Biog- 
 raphy, given the foreign titles in parentheses. For 
 the Italian titles of plays and books, the prevailing 
 continental method of capitalization has been used. 
 In order not to mar the appearance of the pages by 
 a too frequent use of italics, Italian words such as 
 scenario or cicisbeo, of which repeated use is made, 
 have, after their first appearance, been printed in 
 Roman type ; while, for a like reason, French words 
 in familiar use have not been italicized. 
 
 In the footnotes, intended for the student rather 
 than the general reader, only the Italian titles of 
 plays appear, the index being so arranged that the 
 references to any particular play may be found by 
 consulting the title in either English or Italian. 
 The footnotes also give the authorities for important 
 statements, as well as the titles of books or articles 
 from which quotations have been made. The reader 
 
 
xii PREFACE 
 
 seeking original sources, or wishing to pursue further 
 the study of the dramatist, may find in the bibliogra- 
 phy a comprehensive list of the titles, authors, and 
 dates of publication of the books and articles which 
 deal with Goldoni's life and works, or are valuable 
 as biographical and critical sources. 
 
 It may be said in this connection that Goldoni has 
 been singularly neglected by Anglo-Saxon writers. 
 Though a few of his comedies have been translated, 
 none of his masterpieces in the Venetian dialect have 
 been brought within the reach of English readers. 
 An incomplete and inadequate translation of his de- 
 lightful memoirs was made by John Black in 1814, 
 an abridged edition of which was published in Boston 
 in 1877, with a biographical introduction by Mr. 
 Howells, in which Goldoni's character is drawn with 
 both benignity and charm. In her Studies of the 
 Eighteenth Century in Italy, Vernon Lee devotes an 
 excellent, though cursory, chapter to his life and 
 dramatic work; in the introduction to his translation 
 of Carlo Gozzi's memoirs John Addington Symonds 
 presents, albeit grudgingly, Goldoni's merits ; while 
 in an introduction to an inferior translation of four 
 of his comedies, published in 1892, Miss Helen Zim- 
 mern narrates with considerable inaccuracy the prin- 
 cipal events of his life. To this list of English writ- 
 ings may be added Edward Copping's Alfieri and 
 Goldoni: Their Lives and Adventures, published in 
 1857, and Mr. Lacy Collisorr-Morley's recently pub- 
 lished Modern Italian Literature, which contains 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Xlll 
 
 a review of the dramatist's work; yet there is no book 
 in English devoted entirely to this master spirit of 
 Italian comedy. 
 
 With less excuse, it would seem, in view of the fact 
 that he wrote for their own stage, French men of 
 letters have been quite as remiss in regard to Goldoni 
 as our own have been. In his delightful Venise au 
 XVIII e siecle Philippe Monnier devotes a pleasing 
 but brief chapter to the dramatist's life and work. 
 Charles Rabany's Carlo Goldoni: Le theatre et la 
 vie en Italie au XVIII e siecle is comprehensive but 
 not always accurate; while M. Maurice Mignon's 
 chapter on Goldoni in his recently published Etudes 
 de litterature italienne is but a superficial review of 
 the dramatist's career. 
 
 Probably because of Goethe's praise of him, the 
 Germans have been more assiduous than other for- 
 eigners in studying Goldoni, a goodly number of 
 books and doctors' theses devoted to him having ap- 
 peared in Germany. Among them should be noted 
 J. H. Saal's translation of forty-four of Goldoni's 
 plays, the late Hermann Von Lohner's critical edi- 
 tion of the first volume of Goldoni's Memoires and 
 his studies on Goldoni's life in the Ateneo Veneto, 
 H. A. Luder's Carlo Goldoni in seinem Verhaltnis 
 zu Moliere, J. Merz's Carlo Goldoni in seiner Stel- 
 lung zum franzosischen Lustspiel, Marcus Landau's 
 Carlo Goldoni, J. L. Klein's Geschichte des italien- 
 ischen Dramas, L. Mathar's Carlo Goldoni auf 
 dem Deutschen Theater des XFIII Jahrhunderts, 
 
xiv PREFACE 
 
 and B. Schmidbauer's Das Komische bei Goldoni. 
 
 To the Italians we must turn, however, when seek- 
 ing accurate information about "Papa Goldoni," as 
 they affectionately style him. While it is impossi- 
 ble to detail here the vast mass of admirable literature 
 concerning him that has been published in Italy, 
 notably in 1907, when the second centenary of his 
 birth was celebrated throughout the Peninsula, atten- 
 tion should be called to the definitive edition of his 
 works now being issued by the Municipality of 
 Venice under the editorship of MM. Edgardo Mad- 
 dalena, Cesare Musatti, Giuseppe Occioni-Bonaf- 
 fons, Federico Pellegrini, Angelo Scrinzi, and Giu- 
 seppe Ortolani, most of whom in previous books and 
 articles have written both ably and copiously upon 
 the dramatist and his works. To the names of these 
 writers and editors should be added those of MM. 
 Guido Mazzoni, Dino Mantovani, Vittorio Mala- 
 mani, Ferdinando Galanti, Luigi Rasi, Alessandro 
 D'Ancona, Ernesto Masi, Carlo Borghi, and Angelo 
 De Gubernatis, some dead, others still living, yet 
 all ardent Goldonists, whose work, invaluable to stu- 
 dents, has enriched the literature of Italy. 
 
 A feature which should prove of value to the 
 student is the catalogue of Goldoni's plays, libretti, 
 and miscellaneous writings, to be found in Appendix 
 A, (page 60 1 ) . Arranged chronologically, this cata- 
 logue gives the present, as well as the original, titles 
 of the plays, their sources and salient aspects, and is, 
 I believe, the most comprehensive outline of Gol- 
 
PREFACE 
 
 xy 
 
 doni's works yet published. While preparing the 
 material for this book, I compiled for my own use a 
 card index containing a summary of each of the 
 comedies, together with its dramatis personae, its dis- 
 tinctive characteristics, and the approximate date of 
 its first production. When engaged in this work, I 
 was much hampered by the lack of any trustworthy 
 list of Goldoni's plays. I saw, however, that the fre- 
 quent inaccuracies of his memoirs, as well as the con- 
 flicting evidence of contemporary documents, would 
 make its preparation an onerous undertaking, requir- 
 ing for its accomplishment months or even years of 
 careful research. Not wishing to retard unduly my 
 biographical work, I asked Dr. F. C. L. van Steen- 
 deren, Professor of the Romance languages in Lake 
 Forest College, to prepare such a chronological cata- 
 logue of the plays as my experience had shown me 
 to be sorely needed. The patience, zeal, and scholar- 
 ship displayed by him soon convinced me that he 
 possessed every quality necessary for the fulfilment 
 of this arduous task; therefore I felt warranted in 
 entrusting it plenarily to him. The scholarly cata- 
 logue he has devised is so entirely his own work, that 
 I take sincere pleasure in giving him the fully mer- 
 ited credit for its preparation, as well as for that of 
 the accompanying biographical chronology and 
 bibliography, which have also been prepared by him. 
 I should, in further justice, add that I have profited 
 by Professor van Steenderen's chronological re- 
 searches, and that I have sought his philological ad- 
 
xvi PREFACE 
 
 vice regarding the translation of obscure Italian or 
 dialectic passages I have wished to quote. 
 
 A word regarding the illustrations. The frontis- 
 piece is the portrait of Goldoni by Alessandro 
 Longhi ; the others are reproductions of paintings by 
 this artist's father, Pietro Longhi, whose pictures, 
 like Goldoni's plays, present faithfully and genially 
 the life of Venice during the years of her decadence. 
 Pietro Longhi has been called the Venetian Ho- 
 garth ; yet his work is less pessimistic than the Eng- 
 lishman's, his aim having been to arouse a smile 
 rather than to point a cynical moral. In the words of 
 Signor Aldo Rava, his biographer: "His genius is 
 daintily exquisite, and indulgent of the human foibles 
 which present it with so many acceptable subjects; 
 though he never lays bare, as does Hogarth both 
 often and harshly, either the sores or the wickedness 
 of contemporary life." It has seemed peculiarly ap- 
 propriate to illustrate this biography with the brush- 
 work of a contemporary who portrayed upon canvas 
 the life of eighteenth-century Venice as minutely and 
 indulgently as Goldoni pictured it upon the stage. 
 
 For providing me with proof-sheets of the valuable 
 note storiche of the edition of Goldoni's plays being 
 published by the Municipality of Venice, as well as 
 for the continued and kindly interest he has taken 
 in my work, I am greatly beholden to Professor Ed- 
 gardo Maddalena of Vienna. While gathering my 
 material I was graciously aided by the late Dr. Carlo 
 Malagola, State Archivist of Venice, Signor Luigi 
 
PREFACE 
 
 xvn 
 
 Ferro, his assistant, and Dr. Angelo Scrinzi, Director 
 of the Museo Civico ; during a sojourn in Venice, or 
 since my return to my own country, I have received 
 helpful civilities from His Excellency, Baron Mayor 
 des Planches, formerly Ambassador of Italy to the 
 United States, Count Bolognesi, Italian Consul in 
 Chicago, Professor Giuseppe Ortolani, Dr. Cesare 
 Musatti, Dr. Tomaso Sandonnini, Professor Gil- 
 berto Secretant, Professor Italico Brass, Com- 
 mendatore Ferdinand Ongania, and Mr. George Pea- 
 body Eustis. To my colleagues, Mr. Henry B. 
 Fuller and Mr. Wallace Rice, I am indebted for 
 fraternal assistance in reading the proofs ; and to Mr. 
 Rice for technical suggestions regarding the metrical 
 translations, the versification in one instance (page 
 463) being his. 
 
 I wish to take this opportunity to thank these Ital- 
 ian and American gentlemen for their courtesy, and 
 at the same time to express to them my appreciation 
 of the encouragement and help they have extended to 
 me during the writing of this book. 
 
 H. C. C-T. 
 Lake Forest, Illinois, 
 
 September first, 1913. 
 

GOLD ONI 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 
 
 IN one of the sunlit squares of Venice stands 
 the pleasing statue of a man, dressed in the 
 fashion of the eighteenth century. His right 
 hand grasps the round head of a cane; his left is 
 carelessly folded behind his back; a few sheets of 
 paper, possibly an act of a comedy, protrude from 
 his pocket, and his foot is advanced as if he were 
 taking a leisurely step toward the Rialto hard by. 
 The smile on the round face beaming beneath the 
 periwig and the three-cornered hat of this man of 
 long ago, is so genial that the most casual tourist will 
 tarry to admire, even though the name "Goldoni," on 
 the base of the statue, be meaningless to him. Ob- 
 scured though his reputation may be abroad, in 
 Venice this genius of Italian comedy is "Gran Gol- 
 doni," most beloved of her children ; and it is meet 
 that his statue should adorn one of those little Vene- 
 tian squares whose life he translated so inimitably to 
 the stage. 
 
 The smile the sculptor has portrayed is typical 
 of this gentle lover of mankind. Born in Venice at 
 the beginning of the eighteenth century, he died in 
 Paris while the drums of the Revolution were beat- 
 
 3 
 
4 GOLDONI 
 
 ing the reveille of freedom; yet, though the pikes of 
 a new order gleamed beneath his humble window 
 and the air of his adopted land was rent by curses 
 on the regime he had served, he died as he had lived 
 a kindly man of "the merry century." 
 
 It was the century of reason as well as of merri- 
 ment: though when her satiated neighbours forswore 
 enjoyment to prate of human rights, Italy sighed 
 and sang, and when conquerors bled her, to deaden 
 the pain she jingled her merry carnival bells. In 
 that listless land there was, however, one proud city 
 that had never bowed to Guelph or Ghibelline, nor 
 been ravaged by the armies of France and Austria; 
 for in Venice a doge of native blood still ruled. 
 There the three Inquisitors and the Council of Ten 
 still sat in their imposing robes of state; there im- 
 peachments were still dropped stealthily into the 
 Lion's Mouth, while cloaked spies lurked in the 
 shadow of the walls; the manners, laws, and cus- 
 toms of Venice, matured during thirteen centuries 
 of self-government, being still uncontaminated by 
 modern influences. Yet Venice was no longer the 
 lusty city she had been in her prime, the League of 
 Cambrai and Turkish valour having shorn her of 
 her strength, the rust of luxury having stolen in to 
 corrupt. Though the oarsmen of her gilded ship of 
 state, Bucentaur, were still clad in red velvet and 
 gold lace, she was feeble with old age. Yet, because 
 of her independence and her freedom from papal 
 influence, she was unique among Italian states. No- 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 5 
 
 where else in the Peninsula was life so animated, no- 
 where else were there so many bright intellects, such 
 refinement and good-fellowship; no other city was 
 so pleasure-loving, not even Paris. Fear, however, 
 as well as revelry, had sapped her strength. Her 
 territories on the mainland had dwindled to a few 
 contiguous towns, and the Turk had finally wrested 
 from her all but the illusion of her colonial great- 
 ness, tinging with irony these haughty words pro- 
 nounced by her Doge when, on Ascension Day, amid 
 the flashing of gilded oars and the fluttering of hand- 
 kerchiefs and fans, he cast her golden wedding-ring 
 into the fickle sea : 
 
 "Desponsamus te, mare, in signum veri perpetui- 
 que dominii" 
 
 Her corrupt society squandered the nights 
 in dancing and gambling at the Ridotto, 1 and 
 frittered the days away in ladies' boudoirs; her 
 joyous people were ever in the streets, laughing at 
 dull care, for Venice, ruled by Folly in bright rib- 
 bons and bells, was perpetually reeling with joy and 
 mad caprice. Indeed, there was scarcely a day when 
 a saint was not honoured or a hero glorified; scarcely 
 a day when the balconies along the Grand Canal were 
 not hung with cloth of gold and rich tapestries. 
 But the most joyous holiday was the Carnival, when 
 every one, from doge to soubrette, went masked, 
 
 1 The Ridotto (assembly room), a public casino and gaming-house, 
 opened in 1638, was run as a government concession in an effort to over- 
 come the abuses of private gambling. Its rooms were closed permanently 
 Nov. 27, 1774, and turned into government offices. 
 
6 GOLDONI 
 
 humoured and protected by the State in saying and 
 doing anything that might give pleasure the Car- 
 nival, alive during the autumn in spirit, when mask- 
 ing was permitted, and actually lasting from Christ- 
 mas until Lent. Enervated by wealth and a luxury 
 too long enjoyed, Venice in the eighteenth century 
 was indeed a conscienceless city, the casuistry of her 
 Jesuits having shorn vice of compunction; yet she 
 was not a Sodom in a worthy land, since throughout 
 the Peninsula, and the rest of Europe as well, moral 
 delinquencies obtained, sometimes in an even greater 
 degree. 
 
 Only in the haunts of trade, where the merchants 
 of Venice counted their ducats behind iron-barred 
 windows, was there se^^jpess and worth. These 
 thrifty men lamented ^re departed glory of their 
 city, and shook their grey heads ominously, when the 
 carnival noises echoed from a neighbouring 
 piazzetta. But they were fewer in number and 
 poorer than their ancestors had been in the days 
 when the argosies of Venice brought to her road- 
 stead the wealth of the Orient, when the Honed ban- 
 ner of St. Mark floated over Cyprus and the Morea, 
 Candia and the Cyclades ay, even above the walls 
 of Athens and Byzantium. 
 
 An age is reflected by its art, and the art of Italy 
 during "this century of incapacity and indolence" 
 was as feeble and flippant as its enervated society; 
 for whenever an effeminate coterie styling itself 
 L'Arcadia lolled in the shade of the Bosco Parrasio 
 
CARNIVAL MASKERS 
 
 Musco Correr 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 7 
 
 near Rome or foregathered in some stuffy drawing- 
 room, it made a languorous mockery of literature, 
 almost as flaccid as the emasculation that permitted 
 its men to philander and frame affected verses, while 
 foreign armies tyrannized over their land. Only in 
 free Venice was the art not contemptible, for here 
 a spirit akin to nationality inspired the pens of stern 
 Apostolo Zeno and testy Carlo Gozzi, as well as the 
 brushes of Tiepolo, the dazzling idealist of that age, 
 of La Rosalba, its amorous portraitist, and of Longhi, 
 its minute interpreter. Tiepolo adorned the domes 
 and ceilings of Venice with religious and profane 
 myths, limpid in atmosphere and radiant with light; 
 La Rosalba and Longhi hung on its walls pictures of 
 itself, the brush of the one disclosing the languor 
 of its boudoirs, that of the other, the vivacity of its 
 streets. 
 
 In the canvases of Pietro Longhi, the care-free 
 life of Venice in the merry eighteenth century is 
 portrayed minutely, scarcely a phase of it, from the 
 Ridotto with its brazen crowd to the humblest 
 tavern, being slighted by his dextrous hand; but 
 while this little Venetian Hogarth delved into every 
 corner of "the city of whims," another and a greater 
 artist strolled through its streets, studying its people 
 and their customs in order that he, too, might por- 
 tray its life. This artist was Carlo Goldoni, the 
 dramatist whose genial statue 2 now adorns the little 
 Venetian square of San Bartolomeo, scarcely a 
 
 2 Modelled by Antonio Dal Zatto and unveiled in 1883. 
 
8 GOLDONI 
 
 stone's throw from the Rialto busy centre of the 
 joyous life he pictured in words. 
 
 On February 25th, 1707, while the merry din of a 
 waning carnival was echoing through the streets, 
 Goldoni came into the care-free world of Venice, 
 in a "palazzo" of the narrow Calle di Ca Cent' anni, 
 "a large and beautiful house," as he calls it in his 
 guileless memoirs, 3 situated in the Parish of S. 
 Toma, between the bridge of Nomboli that for- 
 merly spanned the quiet canaletto before its door 
 and that of Donna Onesta. The graceful facade of 
 this four-storied palazzo presents to the passer-by 
 of to-day an air of former respectability and com- 
 fort that does not belie the state of Goldoni's parents 
 at the time when he was born. 
 
 About the middle of the seventeenth century a 
 family flourished at Modena whose surname, 
 Guldoni, as it was formerly spelled, is found in 
 Modenese records as far back as 1401. 4 Its 
 head was Francesco Maria Guldoni, a violinist 
 in the orchestra of the Duke of Parma. He married 
 a girl named Virginia Barilli, three sons and a 
 daughter being born to them, called respectively 
 Carlo Alessandro, Alberto, Luigi, and Antonia, the 
 first of whom was our dramatist's paternal grand- 
 father. 
 
 3 Memoir es de M. Goldoni pour servir a I'histoire de sa vie, et a celle 
 de son theatre, from which the quotations in these pages, not otherwise 
 indicated, are made. 
 
 4 A. G. Spinelli and E. P. Vicini, in Modena a Carlo Goldoni, trace the 
 dramatist's descent from a certain Francesco Guldoni, who died in 1584, 
 the name Guldoni occurring in records, however, as far back as 1401. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 9 
 
 The family of which Carlo Alessandro was a 
 member, had been since the sixteenth century in easy 
 circumstances. His maternal uncle was councillor 
 of state to the Duke of Modena, and Carlo Ales- 
 sandro himself was educated at Parma, in a college 
 which numbered among its pupils many sons of the 
 nobility. His own parents must, therefore, have 
 been well-to-do and respected. Furthermore, when 
 he left Modena to become a resident of Venice, he 
 is said to have been "loved and esteemed not only 
 by everybody, but by the Court as well." His 
 brother, it may be added, became a colonel in the 
 army of the Duke of Modena, and later command- 
 ant at Finale. 
 
 "Two noble Venetians with whom he had been 
 at school in Parma" had urged Carlo Alessandro 
 Goldoni, so his grandson tells us, to remove to 
 Venice, 5 and there he obtained through their in- 
 fluence "a very honourable and lucrative appoint- 
 ment" in the office of the Five Commercial Sages, a 
 body originally instituted to assist and supervise com- 
 merce, but which, in the seventeenth century, had be- 
 come a tribunal for the adjudication of disputes be- 
 tween oriental residents in Venice. 
 
 Before he reached Venice, Carlo Alessandro had 
 
 5 The year of Carlo Alessandro's removal to Venice is unknown. His 
 son, Giulio, Goldoni's father, who, the dramatist says, was born in Venice, 
 was twenty years old in 1703, which would indicate that Carlo Alessandro 
 had moved to Venice prior to the year 1683, a theory authenticated by the 
 fact that he assisted in receiving the Duke of Modena, Francesco II, when 
 the latter visited Venice during that year. Modena a Carlo Goldoni, and 
 // Padre di Goldoni, by A. Lazzari. 
 
io GOLDONI 
 
 already married (1670) a Paduan lady named Cat- 
 terina Pasini, and their son, Giulio Goldoni, born in 
 Venice about the year 1683, was tne dramatist's 
 father. 6 
 
 In his memoirs, Goldoni states that "his grand- 
 father married 'en premieres noces' Mademoiselle 
 Barilli, and that his second wife was a respectable 
 widow with two daughters, belonging to the 
 Salvioni family"; the dramatist's father, Giulio 
 Goldoni, having married the elder of his step-sisters, 
 "a pretty brunette, who limped a little and who was 
 very piquante." Yet Hermann von Lohner 7 points 
 out that there are documents in the archives of the 
 Curia patriarcale to show that Carlo Alessandro 
 married neither a Barilli nor a Salvioni, his first wife 
 being Catterina Pasini, and his second, whom he 
 married in 1699, Marta Cappini of Peschiera, who 
 lived in Venice. Barilli, however, was the maiden 
 name of the dramatist's great-grandmother, and 
 Salvioni that of his mother. 
 
 It is easier to believe that Goldoni, writing his 
 memoirs at the age of eighty, should have mistaken 
 the maiden name of his great-grandmother for that 
 of his grandmother, than that he should have been 
 guilty of misstating that his father married his step- 
 
 6 This is Von Lohner's statement. A. G. Spinelli, however, says that in 
 1670 he had already lost his second wife. (Modena a Carlo Goldoni.} 
 Since Carlo Alessandro was born in 1645, and was therefore twenty-five 
 years of age in 1670, Von Lohner's statement is probably correct. 
 
 7 Memoir es de M. Goldoni, corrected and annotated by Hermann von 
 Lohner. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH u 
 
 sister. Possibly Salvioni was the name of the first 
 husband of the Marta who was Carlo Alessandro's 
 second wife, and Cappini that of her own family. 8 
 Yet of far more interest than the correct maiden 
 name of Carlo Alessandro's second wife, is the 
 prodigal and pleasure-loving nature of that good 
 man, the dramatist having inherited many of the 
 traits he thus ascribes to his grandfather: 
 
 He was a worthy man, but in no wise economical, and being 
 fond of pleasure he readily adapted himself to Venetian gaiety. 
 He had rented a fine country house belonging to the Duke of 
 Massa-Carrara, on the Sile, in the Marca Trevigiana, about six 
 leagues from Venice; and there he led a merry life. The neigh- 
 bouring landowners could not endure having Goldoni invite vil- 
 lagers and strangers to his home, and one of his neighbours took 
 steps to oust him from his house, but my grandfather went to Car- 
 rara and leased all the properties the Duke possessed in the State 
 of Venice. Returning home proud of his victory, he increased 
 his expenditures. He gave comedy and opera at his house, all the 
 best actors and celebrated musicians being at his command, and his 
 guests coming from all quarters. I was born in the midst of this 
 riot and luxury. Was it possible for me to scorn theatrical enter- 
 tainments? Was it possible for me not to love gaiety? 
 
 According to Goldoni, this merry and typical 
 Venetian spendthrift died in 1712, his second wife 
 soon following him to the grave. Yet Hermann von 
 Lohner and Carlo Borghi, 9 the most assiduous 
 students who have investigated Goldoni's early life, 
 agree in their belief that Carlo Alessandro died about 
 
 8 A surmise concurring with that of A. G. Spinelli and E. P. Vicini. 
 (Modena a Carlo Goldoni.} 
 
 8 Hermann von Lohner, op. cit., and Carlo Borghi, Memorie sulla vita di 
 Carlo Goldoni. 
 
12 GOLDONI 
 
 1703, and that his wife had died previous to that 
 year; therefore the riot and luxury into which the 
 dramatist was born were probably instigated by his 
 father, a surmise according with Goldoni's own 
 statement that "his father's education was not what 
 it ought to have been." "He did not lack intelli- 
 gence," he adds ; "but he had not been properly cared 
 for. He could not retain his father's post, which a 
 clever Greek was able to wrest from him." More- 
 over, he apparently did his best to spoil his son, since 
 he ordered a puppet-show to be built for him when 
 he was but four years old, which he manipulated 
 himself with the assistance of three or four friends. 
 Indeed, both the dramatist's parents were fondly in- 
 dulgent, as Goldoni thus indicates : 
 
 My mother brought me into the world with little pain, and this 
 increased her love for me ; my first appearance was not, as is usual, 
 announced by cries, and this gentleness seemed an indication of the 
 pacific character which from that day on I have ever preserved. 
 I was the idol of the house; my mother taking charge of my edu- 
 cation, and my father of my amusements. 
 
 Whether Goldoni's grandfather was alone respon- 
 sible for the dissipation of the family fortune, or 
 whether Giulio Goldoni continued the prodigal life 
 his father, Carlo Alessandro, had inaugurated, until 
 "the freehold property of the family in Modena was 
 sold, and the entailed property mortgaged," is a 
 matter of slight importance in comparison with the 
 cruel fact that, through extravagance and riotous liv- 
 ing, the fortune became so reduced during the dram- 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 13 
 
 atist's childhood, that "its sole possession was the 
 Venetian property of his mother and aunt." Signer 
 Lazzari 10 insists, in fact, that Goldoni was not born 
 "in the midst of the riot and luxury" of his grand- 
 parents' house, but "in very modest surroundings.' 7 
 In any event, the family became impoverished, and 
 its burdens were heightened by the birth of another 
 son named Gian Paolo, 11 destined to become a thorn 
 in its side. "Embarrassed by financial losses" and 
 "oppressed by melancholy," Giulio Goldoni, the 
 dramatist's father, left his hearth-side and went to 
 Rome where, on the advice of a Venetian friend 
 named Alessandro Bonicelli, he studied medicine 
 under Giovanni Lancisi, the physician of Pope Cle- 
 ment XL 12 When he had obtained his doctor's de- 
 gree, 13 he settled in Perugia, where he practised 
 medicine. 
 
 Though he pursued his studies to the worthy end 
 of earning a livelihood, Giulio Goldoni deserted an 
 estimable wife, whom he left in Venice with her two 
 children and her sister, to brave the reverses in the 
 
 10 Op. cit. 
 
 11 Hermann von Lohner, op. cit., and Carlo Goldoni e le sue memoire, 
 notes that a Gian Paolo Goldoni was born Oct. i, 1709, and baptized in the 
 Parish Church of S. Toma five days later; another Gian Paolo being born 
 Jan. 10, 1712, and baptized on the i6th of that month, also in the church of 
 S. Toma; facts which indicate that the former died in infancy, and that 
 the latter, the brother of whom Goldoni makes frequent mention in his 
 memoirs, was given the same name Gian Paolo or Giampaolo, as it is 
 frequently written. 
 
 12 According to Carlo Borghi (op. cit.), he first studied medicine in 
 Modena in 1704, under Francesco Tarti. 
 
 13 Arnaldo Delia Torre (Sagglo dl una bibliografia delle opere intorno 
 a Carlo Goldoni) places the conferring of this degree in the year 1718. 
 
14 GOLDONI 
 
 family fortunes, Margherita Salvioni, the drama- 
 tist's mother, being, as he informs us, "pious, but not 
 bigoted," while on another occasion he speaks of her 
 as "that tender mother who always caressed me, but 
 never complained of me." When her husband went 
 to Rome, she farmed out Gian Paolo, her youngest 
 son, and busied herself solely with the future genius 
 of Italian comedy, who was "gentle, quiet, and 
 obedient," he assures us, and able to read and write 
 at the age of four, when his education was entrusted 
 to a tutor. He was fond of books, and as his mother 
 "gave herself no concern" about his choice of them, 
 he delighted in the comedies he found in his father's 
 library, those of Cicognini being his "preference." 
 At the age of eleven, 14 he had "the presumption" 
 to write a comedy, the following being his account 
 of this precocious commencement of his life-work: 
 
 My aunt laughed at me, my mother both scolded and caressed 
 me, my tutor affirmed that it contained more wit and common 
 sense than was compatible with my age; but the most singular 
 
 14 In his memoirs and in the preface to Vol. I of the Pasquali edition, 
 Goldoni says he was eight years of age, when he wrote this comedy. In 
 the preface to Vol. II of the Pasquali edition, however, he says that he 
 was nine at the time. In the same preface, as well as in the Memoirs, he 
 says that as soon as his father in Perugia became aware of his eldest 
 son's "happy faculties," he sent for him. In the preface to Vol. Ill of 
 the same edition, he says that he was twelve when he acted in a play at 
 Perugia, and that this was in the year he had honours in Latin. Since 
 he arrived in Perugia "in the middle of the course of the stagione" and 
 gained his Latin honours at the end of it, he must have been twelve years 
 old not more than a year after he arrived in Perugia. This would make 
 the age at which he wrote his first comedy eleven, or a trifle less, but cer- 
 tainly not the age of eight, given in the Memoirs, a view in which A. 
 Delia Torre and Guido Mazzoni concur. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 15 
 
 thing was that my godfather, a lawyer, richer in money than in 
 knowledge, would not believe that it was my work. He main- 
 tained that it had been revised and corrected by my tutor, who 
 considered this opinion shameful; but luckily, when the dispute 
 was w%xing warm, ... a third person made his appearance, 
 who was able to pacify them, ... a friend of the family, 
 who, having seen me at work on the play, bore witness to my 
 puerilities and flashes of wit. 
 
 This "childish folly," as Goldoni calls it, after 
 going the rounds of his mother's friends, was read 
 by his father, who was so pleased by his son's 
 precocity, that he insisted upon his joining him in 
 Umbria, a demand to which his wife reluctantly con- 
 ceded, when a worthy priest, who was a friend of the 
 family, consented to take young Carlo with him on 
 a journey he contemplated making to Perugia. On 
 the way to that pleasing hill-town, our ambitious 
 young Venetian rode a horse for the first time, an 
 experience he thus describes: 
 
 They laid hold of me by the middle, and threw me into the 
 saddle. Bless me! 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 heartily, the servants ridiculed me, 
 and I laughed at myself ; but by degrees I got acquainted with my 
 nag, whom I regaled with bread and fruit until he became my 
 friend, and in six days' time we arrived at Perugia, 
 
 There, at the age of twelve, he was placed by his 
 father in a Jesuit school where, according to his own 
 story, he passed the first term's examination at the 
 head of the primary class, and was promoted to a 
 higher grade; yet in the records of the institution his 
 
16 GOLDONI 
 
 name appears among those who were plucked. 15 
 More patent than his aptitude for study during this 
 sojourn in Perugia is his love for the stage, a taste 
 his indulgent father apparently shared, since during 
 the school vacation Dr. Goldoni obtained the use of 
 a hall in the Palazzo Antinori, where, under his 
 direction, his son and some schoolmates performed a 
 comedy, 16 young Carlo playing a female part, and 
 speaking the prologue so successfully that he was 
 nearly blinded by a "bushel of sugar-plums" with 
 which he was "overwhelmed," that being "the com- 
 mon form of applause in the Papal States." His 
 father thought that he showed "considerable intelli- 
 gence," but was convinced that he would "never make 
 a good actor." "And he was not mistaken," Goldoni 
 remarks laconically. 
 
 Unable to endure the separation from her eldest 
 son, Margherita Salvioni finally moved to Perugia, 
 but, accustomed as she was to the mild climate of 
 Venice, the bracing air of the Appennines prevented 
 her from enjoying in Umbria "a single day of good 
 health." His Perugian patron having died, and the 
 
 15 A. Valeri, Una, bugia di Carlo Goldoni, in La Rassegna inter nazionale, 
 vol. VIII, 1902. 
 
 16 La Sorellina di Don Pilone, by Girolamo Gigli, whom Giulio Caprin 
 styles "the only Italian writer of comedy before Goldoni who had a correct 
 intuition of dramatic art." In regard to this performance it should be 
 noted that while in his memoirs Goldoni gives to his father the credit of 
 inaugurating it, saying among other things that it was he who had the 
 stage built, in the preface to Vol. Ill of the Pasquali edition he says: 
 "The work (prologue) was by the master of the house (Antinori) who 
 had the stage built, and who defrayed all the expenses for the sole glory 
 of having the audience enjoy his exquisite style." 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 17 
 
 local physicians having begun "to eye him jealously," 
 Dr. Goldoni went with his family to Rimini, where he 
 tarried long enough to place his son in a Dominican 
 school ; then journeyed to Chioggia, where he left his 
 wife in a salubrious climate, while he went to 
 Modena to salvage something from the wreck of the 
 family fortunes. 
 
 His studies of the humanities and rhetoric having 
 been completed in Perugia, young Carlo, destined, 
 as he informs us, for his father's profession, was 
 ostensibly attending at Rimini meanwhile, the 
 philosophical lectures of a Dominican logician 
 named Candini. A mild case of smallpox gave him 
 a legitimate excuse for neglecting his studies, but 
 when he had recovered from that noisome disease, 
 Candini's dull lectures drove him to seek distraction 
 in the performances of a troupe of strolling players. 
 
 Perugia being in the Papal States, women were not 
 permitted to act there ; so at Rimini he saw actresses 
 for the first time and found that they "adorned the 
 stage in a more stimulating way" than beardless 
 youths. Indeed, so alluring were those of Rimini 
 that he left the 'pit where he had gone modestly at 
 first, to join the young sparks he saw loitering in the 
 wings. The brazen looks he received in return for 
 his own shy glances so emboldened him that soon 
 he was enjoying caresses as well, for when the ac- 
 tresses learned that he was a Venetian like them- 
 selves, they showered him with attentions, Florindo, 
 their manager, even inviting him to dine. Alas for 
 
i8 GOLDONI 
 
 dry logic ! No sooner did the young rascal learn that 
 his merry friends were bound for Chioggia than a 
 "longing to see his mother" overcame him, so intense 
 that in spite of the remonstrances of the Riminian 
 friends of his family, he stuffed two shirts and a night- 
 cap into his pockets, and hid himself in the bows of 
 the Thespian barque; with the connivance, be it 
 added, of its crew, for when the sails were set and he 
 had emerged from his hiding-place, he was welcomed 
 by laughing lips to the joyous life he thus depicts: 
 
 My actors were not like those Scarron describes; yet in the 
 aggregate this troupe aboard-ship presented a pleasing sight. A 
 dozen people as many actors as actresses, a prompter, a stage 
 carpenter, a property man, four maids, two wet nurses, children of 
 all ages, dogs, cats, monkeys, parrots, birds, pigeons, and a lamb 
 it was Noah's Ark. The boat was very large and divided into a 
 number of compartments, each woman having her nook hidden by 
 curtains; a bed was provided for me beside the manager, and 
 we were all comfortable. 
 
 The supercargo, who was cook and steward as well, rang a little 
 bell as the signal for breakfast, whereupon we gathered in a sort 
 of saloon that had been improvised amidships on the top of boxes, 
 trunks, and bales, and there on an oval table were coffee, tea, milk, 
 joints, water, and wine. The leading lady demanded soup. 
 There was none; whereat she flew into a rage and was only paci- 
 fied with all the difficulty in the world, by a cup of chocolate, she 
 being the ugliest and the most exacting. 
 
 After breakfast some one suggested that we gamble till dinner 
 time. I played tresset tolerably well, it being my mother's favourite 
 game, which she had taught me. We were on the point of start- 
 ing tresset and piquet, but a faro bank that had been opened on 
 the main-deck attracted all hands more a source of amusement 
 than profit, however, as the manager would not have permitted it 
 to be otherwise. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 19 
 
 We gambled, laughed, frolicked, and played jokes till the din- 
 ner bell rang; then rushed to the table. Macaroni! We fell 
 upon it and devoured three soup-tureens-full. Beef a la mode, 
 cold mutton, a loin of veal, a dessert, and a first-rate wine, ah, 
 what a good dinner ! There is no cheer like an appetite. 
 
 We remained four hours at table, playing various instruments 
 and singing a great deal. The soubrette sang divinely; I eyed her 
 attentively and she aroused in me a strange sensation. A mishap, 
 alas, interrupted the pleasure of the company. A cat escaped from 
 its cage. It was the leading lady's pussy, and she called on all 
 hands for help. We chased it, but the cat, being as savage as its 
 mistress, skipped and leapt about and hid itself everywhere; find- 
 ing itself pursued, it clawed up the mast. Madame Clarice 
 fainted, whereupon a sailor went up the rigging to catch the cat; 
 but it jumped into the sea and remained there. In her despair, its 
 mistress wished to kill every animal in sight and even to throw her 
 maid into her pussy's watery grave. We all took the maid's part 
 and when the quarrel became general, the manager appeared, to 
 laugh and joke and pet the offended woman, until at last she began 
 to laugh herself. Thus the cat was forgotten. 
 
 Enough, I am convinced. To chat longer about these insig- 
 nificant events would be taking an unfair advantage of the reader. 
 The wind was fair; we were at sea three days, enjoying the same 
 amusements, the same pleasures, and the same appetite. On the 
 fourth day we reached Chioggia. 
 
 Thus at the age of fourteen, Goldoni was initiated 
 into Bohemianism, and thus a lifelong fondness was 
 engendered in his heart, for he confesses that ever 
 afterwards he entertained "a preferential taste for 
 soubrettes." Yet this stage-struck lad was not wholly 
 compunctionless. With Florindo, the manager, as 
 his emissary, he obtained his mother's forgiving em- 
 brace, and when a letter from his father at Modena 
 announced that through the kind offices of a name- 
 
20 GOLDONI 
 
 sake, the Marquis Goldoni-Vidoni, 17 a scholarship 
 had been obtained for him in the Papal College at 
 Pavia, the young scapegrace was constrained to 
 realize "the imprudence of his escapade"; his con- 
 science, however, was so slightly smitten that, when 
 his mother forbade him the theatre, he visited the 
 soubrette instead. 
 
 His father soon returned to Chioggia, fondly ex- 
 pectant that certain properties in Modena might yield 
 enough to permit the family to live comfortably; a 
 hope that made him forgive more readily his rascally 
 first-born for decamping from school with a band of 
 strolling players. Dr. Goldoni, moreover, shared 
 Carlo's liking for actresses, and as he had once ad- 
 mired the leading lady of Florindo's troupe, he felt 
 it necessary, when pardoning his recalcitrant son, to 
 thank these Thespians for their hospitable care of 
 him. 
 
 Dr. Goldoni settled in Chioggia, and soon had a 
 considerable practice among both rich and poor. 
 His incorrigible first-born, meanwhile, was roaming 
 the streets while awaiting the confirmation of his 
 scholarship at Pavia. To keep him out of mischief, 
 and at the same time give him an insight into the 
 ways of his future calling, his father decided to take 
 him with him on his professional visits. Being called 
 to attend a young woman of questionable character, 
 
 17 Pietro Goldoni Vidoni Ajmi, Marquese di San Raffaele e Signore di 
 Viliceto, a Milanese Senator and Governor of Pavia, whom Dr. Goldoni 
 met accidentally in the latter city in 1721, and who befriended him because 
 he was a namesake. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 21 
 
 whose mother was her go-between, he left young 
 Carlo in an outer room while he treated his patient, 
 the mother making hay, meanwhile, by arranging a 
 rendezvous between the lad and her daughter. By 
 tracking him to their nest before they had had time 
 to pluck him, a family servant saved this conscience- 
 less fledgling from the claws of these vampires, but 
 it was high time that some employment be found 
 for his idle hands. 
 
 "I was naturally joyous," Goldoni tells us, "yet sub- 
 ject from childhood to hypochondriacal or melan- 
 cholic vapours." Attacked by "this lethargic ill- 
 ness" after the departure of his Thespian friends, he 
 vainly sought amusement in Chioggia, until he be- 
 came "gloomy and thoughtful" and "lost weight per- 
 ceptibly." 
 
 As he had evinced an aversion for medicine, it was 
 decided at a family council that he should study law 
 while awaiting the time of his matriculation at Pavia; 
 whereupon he was taken to Venice by his mother, 
 and installed in the law office of Gian Paolo In- 
 dric, a prominent barrister and his uncle by mar- 
 riage. 
 
 There he "discharged his duties with accuracy," 
 and "merited his uncle's praise," but found time, 
 nevertheless, to "avail himself of the pleasures of a 
 residence in Venice," its seven theatres being his 
 especial delight. Throughout the summer of 1722, 
 he remained in the city of the lagoons, and in the au- 
 tumn, accompanied by his father, he set out for Pavia, 
 
22 GOLDONI 
 
 word having been received that the promised scholar- 
 ship had been awarded him. 
 
 In Modena the journey was arrested for three days 
 to enable Dr. Goldoni to collect "certain governmen- 
 tal annuities and house rents" that were due him, a 
 lucky provision, since on reaching Milan he was in- 
 formed by his noble benefactor that before his son 
 could enter the Ghislieri College at Pavia, a papal in- 
 stitution, he must be tonsured, as well as provided 
 with certificates of baptism, celibacy, and good moral 
 character. Having had no premonition of these re- 
 quirements, father and son were forced to tarry at 
 Milan, while Madame Goldoni obtained the neces- 
 sary documents in Venice. The three certificates were 
 soon forthcoming, but the patriarch of Venice would 
 not grant permission for Carlo to be tonsured, "with- 
 out the settlement of the patrimony ordained by the 
 canons of the Church." As Dr. Goldoni's property 
 was not situated in the Venetian dominions, and his 
 wife's was entailed, it became necessary to apply to 
 the senate for a dispensation, a bit of ecclesiastical red 
 tape that postponed the matriculation for several 
 months. As the guests of the Marquis Goldoni, 
 Carlo and his father tarried in Milan for a fortnight, 
 then set out for Pavia, "well provided with letters of 
 recommendation." There they lodged in "a good 
 bourgeois house" while awaiting the official docu- 
 ments. An introduction from the Marquis Goldoni 
 to Professor Lauzio enabled Carlo to attend the lec- 
 tures of that jurisconsult in the meantime, and also to 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 23 
 
 browse in his library, where he devoured a collection 
 of ancient and modern comedies, whenever he became 
 weary of thumbing musty treatises on Roman law. 
 
 While ransacking Professor Lauzio's book shelves 
 for plays to read, he made the mortifying discovery 
 that there was an English, a Spanish, and a French 
 drama, but no Italian drama. "Wishing passionately 
 to see his country rise to the level of others," he vowed 
 he would contribute his share to that end. Though 
 he kept this youthful resolution worthily, this lad in 
 his teens could scarcely have foreseen that he was 
 destined to rescue Italian comedy from the obscene 
 mire in which it wallowed, and by cleansing it and 
 imbuing it with nationalism, raise it almost to the 
 superlative level French comedy had attained in the 
 hands of Moliere. 
 
 While thus conceiving his life-work, he awaited 
 impatiently the documents that would permit him to 
 become a full-fledged collegian. When they finally 
 arrived, he received the tonsure at the hands of the 
 cardinal-archbishop of Pavia (Dec. 25, 1722), and 
 entered the Ghislieri College. He was not quite six- 
 teen when he donned the sovrana or college gown, 
 bearing on a velvet stole attached to the left 
 shoulder the Ghislieri arms embroidered in gold 
 and silver, the pontifical tiara and the keys of St. 
 Peter, a costume, as he confesses, "calculated to 
 give a young man an air of importance and arouse 
 his vanity." 
 
 At the Ghislieri College, the students "acted pre- 
 

 24 GOLDONI 
 
 cisely as they pleased," he informs us, "there being a 
 great deal of dissipation within, and a great deal of 
 freedom without." He learned fencing, dancing, 
 music, and drawing, as well as "all possible games of 
 commerce and chance," and contrived meanwhile to 
 find his way "into the most charming houses of the 
 town." His Venetian jargon "was agreeable to the 
 ladies," his age and figure "were not displeasing," and 
 his couplets and songs "were by no means ill-rel- 
 ished." "Was it my fault," he laments, "if I em- 
 ployed my time badly? Yes ; for there were a few 
 wise and correct fellows among the forty composing 
 our number, whom I should have imitated." Indeed, 
 many escapades mar young Goldoni's course at the 
 Ghislieri College, he being by his own confession 
 "joyous, weak, and fond of pleasure." 
 
 His long summer vacations were passed in the 
 bosom of his fond family at Chioggia, that quaint 
 fishing town appearing to him "more dirty than ever" 
 after a sojourn at Pavia. During his first holiday a 
 worthy canon, to whom he appealed for plays to read, 
 inadvertently gave him Machiavelli's obscene mas- 
 terpiece, The Mandrake (La Mandragola}. His 
 father, who knew its character, lectured him severely 
 for reading it; yet the lad saw that it was the "first 
 comedy of character that had ever fallen into his 
 hands," and he was "charmed by it." Still ignorant 
 of French, he resolved to learn that language in or- 
 der that he might study the comedies of Moliere. 
 Meanwhile, he accustomed himself "to consider men 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 25 
 
 closely, and never to let an original character elude 
 him." 
 
 On the way home from one of his vacations, as the 
 guest of a Venetian diplomat's staff, he travelled 
 luxuriously on the river Po in a private burchiello. 
 There were ten in the party, all players of some in- 
 strument except himself, a lack of musical talent 
 he endeavoured to make up for by writing in verse a 
 daily chronicle of the journey. But this was not his 
 only undergraduate manifestation of literary talent, 
 for when he returned to Chioggia for his second sum- 
 mer holiday, he wrote a sermon at the request of a nun 
 who was his mother's friend. The sermon was about 
 a relic that had just been presented to the nun's con- 
 vent of St. Francis, and a young priest delivered it 
 so effectively that the audience was moved to tears, 
 Goldoni being showered with compliments when it 
 became known that he was its author. 
 
 Our young student was "plenteously endowed with 
 reason for his age," he says, but he "was at the mercy 
 of rash escapades." And he adds, "they did me 
 great harm, as you will perceive, and you will pity 
 me perhaps." Thus, on his first journey back from 
 Chioggia to Pavia, he stopped at Modena, where the 
 maid-servant of his lodging-house wished to elope 
 with him, but he assures us that he was not "enough 
 of a libertine to take advantage of her." Reaching 
 Piacenza, he found himself, like many another 
 student, stoney-broke, and as fate would have it, he 
 discovered a conscience-stricken relative who con- 
 
26 GOLDONI 
 
 fessed to owing his father six hundred livres tournols, 
 a goodly sum which the young rogue succeeded 
 in collecting as his father's representative, and thus 
 imbursed, he reached Pavia, where he aroused the 
 envy of his fellow-students by making a six days' 
 journey during the Christmas holidays with his 
 patron, the Marquis Goldoni, a "piece of ostenta- 
 tion" that caused two jealous classmates to lock him 
 in a brothel they had enticed him to enter, without 
 his being aware of its character. He escaped by 
 jumping from a window, but the affair reached the 
 ears of the college authorities. To exonerate him- 
 self, he denounced the guilty, but soon reaped the 
 tattler's reward. 
 
 There was, it appears, so great an animosity in 
 Pavia between town and gown that forty townsmen 
 resolved never to marry any girl who received the 
 visits of students, with the result that mothers of 
 marriageable daughters proscribed all wearers of 
 the sovrana. Finding the doors of "the charming 
 houses" he had been in the habit of frequenting, 
 closed to him, Goldoni considered his honour at 
 stake, and on the advice of classmates who sought 
 his undoing for the affair of the brothel, he armed 
 himself with a brace of pistols; whereupon his trai- 
 torous comrades secretly denounced him to the col- 
 lege authorities for carrying concealed weapons. 
 Though arrested and confined to his room, he wel- 
 comed his punishment, since it gave him sorely 
 needed time to prepare his thesis; but his enemies, 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 27 
 
 alas, invaded his privacy and "tickled his self-love" 
 in this wise : 
 
 "You are a poet," said they, "and consequently you have surer 
 and better arms for your revenge than pistols and guns. A stroke 
 of the pen opportunely discharged is a bomb that crushes the 
 chief offender, its fragments wounding his adherents right and left." 
 "Courage, courage," they cried in chorus; "we shall supply you 
 with curious anecdotes, and you, as well as ourselves, will be re- 
 venged." 
 
 Thus tempted, he composed, in the form of a 
 Roman Atellana, a satire entitled The Colossus, 
 which, when circulated throughout the town by 
 Goldoni's false friends, so wounded the sensibilities 
 of twelve worthy and respectable families that they 
 cried for vengeance, and sought the author's life. 
 Luckily, he was still under arrest, but fellow-students 
 were insulted, the Papal College was besieged, 
 and so great was the animosity created by "the 
 piquant sallies and shafts of this vis comica" that the 
 budding dramatist was expelled from his Alma 
 Mater despite the appeals made by his patron, the 
 Marquis Goldoni, to the archbishop, the governor, 
 and the patron of the college. 
 
 Ashamed to face the scorn of his parents, pro- 
 tectors, and friends, Goldoni resolved to go to Rome, 
 he says, in the hope that Gravina, the poet and critic, 
 would befriend him as he had befriended Metastasio. 
 But Gravina had been dead seven years, so that was 
 a purpose he could scarcely have hoped to fulfil. 
 His state of mind must have been desperate, however, 
 and furthermore, he was penniless. The college au- 
 
28 GOLDONI 
 
 thorities put him aboard a river packet, paid his fare 
 to Chioggia, and advanced him thirty paoli for con- 
 tingencies. At Piacenza he attempted to go ashore, 
 with the intention of footing it to Rome, but found 
 that orders to detain him had been given ; therefore, 
 as he expresses it, he had "no alternative but to go 
 to Chioggia or throw himself into the Po." 
 
 On the voyage thither, a Dominican fellow- 
 traveller possessed himself of the remorseful lad's 
 thirty paoli, as "an alms to propitiate the wrath of 
 God"; yet, when Chioggia was reached, this hypo- 
 crite "touched the heart of a tender mother" and ad- 
 monished a good-natured father "not to forget the 
 parable of the prodigal son," so successfully that he 
 fairly earned the lad's paoli, as well as the good meals 
 he ate at the Goldoni board. This monk was an 
 arrant impostor, however, who, unwittingly aided by 
 Dr. Goldoni, obtained from the latter's patients, the 
 nuns of St. Francis, a goodly stock of oil and money 
 in exchange for a sham miracle he performed, by 
 passing a piece of the Virgin's lace through fire, the 
 lace being "nothing more or less than iron wire ar- 
 ranged in such a manner as to deceive the eye." 
 When the nuns had been reprimanded by their 
 bishop, and the monk had decamped, Dr. Goldoni, 
 accompanied by his son Carlo, departed for Udine, 
 a city in the Venetian Friuli, where he had been sum- 
 moned professionally. 
 
 The future dramatist was now in his eighteenth 
 year. He had run away from one school, and had 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 29 
 
 been expelled from another, therefore it was time 
 for him to buckle to serious work; yet though he as- 
 sures us that he profited more during the six months 
 he passed at Udine from the lectures of a juriscon- 
 sult named Movelli, than he had during the three 
 years he had passed at Pavia, he confesses that he was 
 still "young, and required agreeable relaxations." 
 
 On hearing a quadragesimal sermon delivered by a 
 former Augustinian friar, he wrote a sonnet con- 
 taining "the three points of its division, word for 
 word," and so greatly was he elated by "the praise 
 of a gentleman of Udine well versed in belles-let- 
 tres" that he sonnetized thirty-five more of the same 
 preacher's sermons and published them in pamphlet 
 form, thereby eliciting the preacher's thanks, as well 
 as the praise of the town officials, to whom he had 
 tactfully dedicated these youthful efforts. 
 
 Though "the novelty of this work thrilled him, and 
 the rapidity with which he executed it surprised 
 him," the young man found "agreeable relaxations" 
 of a less worthy nature. Four doors from his lodg- 
 ing dwelt a young lady "as affable, beautiful, and 
 courteous as she was modest," whom he eyed ardently 
 when she sat in her window, and followed longingly 
 when she went to mass. Her maid soon discovered 
 his infatuation and played upon his ardour to her 
 own profit. She gave him fond notes, and at night 
 beneath a balcony, permitted him tenderly to address 
 "a head covered with a night-cap." When his most 
 amorous words were received with peals of laughter, 
 
30 GOLDONI 
 
 and the window was shut in his face, the wily maid 
 palliated the affront with the promise of a rendezvous 
 with her mistress, but not until Goldoni had bought 
 and given a present consisting of a cross, earrings, 
 necklace, and brooch of coloured Vienna stones. He 
 saw his inamorata at church, "decked out in his 
 trinkets," and he was "as happy as a king/' but at 
 the rendezvous, the maid appeared instead of the 
 young lady, with a cock-and-bull story to tell about 
 having long concealed her own ardent passion for 
 him, because a cruel mistress wished to prey upon his 
 infatuation. Though she was prepared to give him 
 "most convincing proofs" of her love, Goldoni's sus- 
 picions were aroused, and instead of falling into the 
 amorous trap the minx had set for him, he plotted 
 her undoing. Coached in the wiles of her sex by a 
 little milliner with whom, as he confesses, he had al- 
 ready "taken several pleasure trips," at their next 
 rendezvous he confronted the trickish maid with sev- 
 eral witnesses who knew her character, and forced 
 from her brazen lips the confession that her hand had 
 written the fond notes, that her head had been the one 
 in the night-cap, and that his trinkets had been sold, 
 instead of given, to her unsuspecting mistress, still in 
 blissful ignorance of his passion. 
 
 "To indemnify himself," as he expresses it, "for the 
 time he had lost," he dallied with the daughter of a 
 lemonade-seller, 18 who abetted her mother in surpris- 
 
 18 In the preface to Vol. IX of the Pasquali edition, Goldoni states that 
 she was the daughter of a caffettiere; in his memoirs he describes her as 
 the daughter of a limonadier. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 31 
 
 ing him during a nocturnal rendezvous and forcing 
 from him a promise of marriage. To escape from the 
 wiles of these women he fled to Gorz, where his 
 father had gone to attend professionally the Count 
 of Lantieri, an official in the service of the Austrian 
 Emperor. 
 
 Goldoni remained several months in the household 
 of this nobleman, the greater portion of the time being 
 spent in the count's feudal town of Wippach, where 
 the table was "abundantly served," "the wines excel- 
 lent," and toasts were drunk "every moment." To 
 gratify his young guest's passion for the drama, the 
 Count refurbished a disused puppet-booth, in which, 
 "for the amusement of the company," our future 
 dramatist presented The Sneezing of Hercules (Lo 
 Starnuto di Ercole) , a play for marionettes written by 
 Pier Jacopo Martelli, a poet whose fourteen- 
 syllabled measure, known as Martellian verse, Gol- 
 doni was to use frequently in his versified comedies. 
 
 While Dr. Goldoni was completing his noble 
 patient's cure, his son visited Laibach, Gratz, Trieste, 
 Aquileia, Gradisca, and Wippach, in the company of 
 the count's secretary. On the completion of this 
 pleasure trip, Carlo returned with his father to 
 Chioggia, where he arrived during the autumn of 
 1726, Dr. Goldoni having been induced to take a 
 road that did not lead through Udine, his scampish 
 son being in dread of a "disagreeable encounter" with 
 the drabs who had ensnared him. The youthful re- 
 probate thus describes his home-coming: 
 
32 GOLDONI 
 
 On our arrival at Chioggia we were received as a mother re- 
 ceives a 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 attached to me; after having been seduced and de- 
 ceived I needed to be loved. 
 
 The maternal and filial embraces were of short 
 duration, however, a letter having come from a cousin 
 who lived at Modena, in which young Carlo, being 
 urged to study law at the university there, was offered 
 moral guidance, as well as assistance in finding a suit- 
 able lodging-house. This invitation gave rise "to 
 endless reasonings, for and against, between father 
 and mother," but the master of the house carried the 
 day, and soon the wayward lad was journeying to Mo- 
 dena on a river packet, commanded by "an aged and 
 spare" man named Bastia, who was so devout that he 
 exhorted his passengers to say their rosaries and recite 
 the litanies of the Virgin. The laughter of three 
 renegade Jews, who had so far forsworn their own 
 faith as to eat bacon at dinner, rudely interrupted 
 these devotions; but the piety of the packet's com- 
 mander impressed our contrite young passenger so 
 favourably that, on reaching Modena, he decided to 
 lodge in the river-man's "sanctified house," a decision 
 in which his solicitous relative concurred. 
 
 Although he began the study of legal procedure 
 under a famous lawyer and had the good fortune to 
 meet Muratori, the historian, whose nephew was his 
 chum, his scholastic career was again cut short. At 
 Modena, however, he was undone by religious fer- 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 33 
 
 vour, instead of by student pranks or by the wiles of 
 soubrettes, "a frightful scene" which he witnessed a 
 few days after his arrival having affected his impres- 
 sionable nature so forcibly that his mind was "trou- 
 bled" and his "senses were agitated" in this wise: 
 
 I saw in the midst of a crowd a scaffold erected to a height of 
 five feet, on which a man appeared with his head bared and his 
 hands bound. He was a priest whom I knew, an enlightened lit- 
 erary man, a celebrated poet, well known and highly esteemed in 
 Italy, he being the Abbe J.-B.-V. 19 One friar held a book, an- 
 other questioned the culprit, who answered haughtily. The spec- 
 tators clapped their hands and encouraged him, the upbraiding 
 increased, the disgraced man trembled ; I could endure it no longer. 
 Thoughtful, disturbed, and amazed, I departed, my vapours attack- 
 ing me immediately. I returned home, and shutting myself in my 
 room, plunged into gloomy and humiliating reflections upon hu- 
 manity. 
 
 The priest, it appears, had been denounced by a 
 woman for uttering indecent language while giving 
 her the sacrament, and this fellow-sinner's degrada- 
 tion caused Goldoni to review his own amorous de- 
 linquencies so abjectly, that he began to say his rosary 
 devoutly and go to mass daily with Bastia, his pious 
 
 19 Hermann von Lohner tried to discover the identity of this abbe. He 
 found the initials J.-B.-V. corresponded to those of the poet Gio. Battista 
 Vicini. A. G. Spinelli later discovered a sonnet, in which it is stated that 
 Vicini "Del foco punitor del Santo Uffizio." A note adds that he "was 
 condemned by the Inquisition on account of his many foolish errors and 
 his obscene lewdness," Spinelli's comment being that "Von Lohner's suppo- 
 sition that the initials J.-B.-V. may hide the name of our poet Gio. Battista 
 Vicini, perhaps touches the truth." This probability is strengthened by a 
 letter from Goldoni, dated Dec. 9, 1757, written as Ernesto Mas! suggests 
 to Vicini, and which contains the following: "Have confidence in a man 
 of honour who esteems you, who has, always esteemed you in spite of certain 
 mortifications for which your enemies are to blame." 
 
34 GOLDONI 
 
 landlord, a devotee who nourished his young lodger 
 with "so much unction," that he resolved to renounce 
 the world and become a Capuchin monk. But Dr. 
 Goldoni, in the words of his son, "was no fool," for 
 when Carlo announced his intention of "enveloping 
 himself in a cowl," instead of being opposed, he was 
 brought to Venice and taken to the theatres of that 
 joyous city, a cure that in fifteen days drove all 
 thoughts of the cloister from his impressionable mind. 
 When "his vapours were dissipated" and he was 
 "restored to reason," he was taken to Chioggia, where 
 he became, so he says, "dearer and more interesting" 
 to his mother "because of the absence of her younger 
 son." 
 
 Being destined for the army, Goldoni's ne'er-do- 
 well brother, Gian Paolo, then a lad of fifteen, had 
 been taken to Zara, the capital of Dalmatia, by a 
 soldier cousin of his mother, who "took charge of his 
 education and afterward placed him in his regiment." 
 Meanwhile the first-born, now in his twenty-first year, 
 despaired of his future. He had "experienced so 
 many reverses," and "so many singular catastrophes" 
 had happened to him, that the dramatic art, of "which 
 he was still fond" and which he would long since 
 have embraced had he "been master of his own will," 
 seemed his only resource. But his father, though 
 "vexed to see him the sport of fortune," did not allow 
 himself to be cast down. Being acquainted both with 
 the Podesta of Chioggia and also with the criminal 
 chancellor and his coadjutor, Dr. Goldoni obtained 
 

 CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 35 
 
 for his f reward son an appointment as the coadjutor's 
 assistant, a post "without salary," but which enabled 
 the lad to "enjoy the pleasures of society" as well as 
 "a good table, an abundance of plays, concerts, balls, 
 and banquets." 
 
 "Aware of the necessity of making a reputation for 
 himself," the young official performed his duties so 
 ably that the criminal chancellor soon entrusted him 
 with "thorny commissions" that did not pass through 
 the lazy hands of his assistant. When transferred to 
 the town of Feltre, the chancellor appointed young 
 Goldoni his coadjutor. Yet, howsoever successfully 
 the future master of Italian comedy may have fulfilled 
 his official duties in Chioggia, the lasting work he per- 
 formed in that odd town was to learn the droll ways 
 of its inhabitants ; since, inspired by his experience as 
 assistant to the coadjutor of Chioggia, he wrote in 
 after years his masterpiece, The Chioggian Brawls 
 (Le Baruffe Chiozzotte) , the first comedy of any land 
 to mirror truly and affectionately the common people, 
 without nobles to scorn them or clowns to belie them. 
 
 While awaiting the time when he was to leave for 
 Feltre, and assimilating the quaint life of Chioggia 
 he was to paint so inimitably one day, he learned much 
 about human nature from the criminal proceedings in 
 the court of which he was a minor official. Mean- 
 while, he praised the podesta in verse and "expatiated 
 at great length on the virtues and personal qualities 
 of his consort," both of whom had been kind to him. 
 He made love, too, on his own account, but in a way 
 
36 GOLDONI 
 
 more legitimate than had been his previous wont, for 
 though there was a stain upon the birth of the con- 
 vent pupil who enlisted his affections, she was so 
 "beautiful, rich, and amiable," that he wished to 
 marry her. 
 
 A nun at the convent where his new inamorata was 
 ensconced pretended to abet his suit, but "Mademoi- 
 selle N. . . . ," as he styles her in his memoirs, had 
 an old guardian who suborned the nun to further 
 his own suit for his ward's hand. This false con- 
 fidante sought to propitiate Goldoni with the assur- 
 ance that as "a young wife must shorten the days of 
 an old husband," he might soon wed "a pretty widow, 
 who had been a wife only in name." Refusing to be 
 thus mollified, he bowed himself out of the convent 
 parlour in silence, "never saw nun or pupil again, 
 and happily soon forgot both of them," a result easy 
 to accomplish, it appears, for no sooner had he been 
 installed in his new office at Feltre than he dis- 
 covered that there was a troupe of actors in that 
 mountain town, among whom was his Riminian 
 friend, Florindo, now reduced by old age to playing 
 the roles of kings in tragedy and fathers in comedy. 
 Yet in spite of his proximity to a provincial green- 
 room, Goldoni assures us that for several months he 
 laid aside every idea of pleasure and amusement, in 
 order to apply himself seriously to official work, a 
 chancellorship being his aspiration. But in the ful- 
 filment of his duties as coadjutor, he was again 
 brought within the allurement of bewitching eyes. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 37 
 
 Being ordered to conduct an investigation in the 
 country ten leagues from Feltre, he induced several 
 friends of both sexes to accompany him on a "de- 
 licious expedition," during which they "never dined 
 or supped in the same place, and for twelve nights 
 never slept in beds." Frequently, they went on foot 
 "along delightful roads bordered with vines and 
 shaded by fig trees." Sometimes they breakfasted on 
 milk, and sometimes they shared the fare of peasants; 
 but wherever they went "they saw nothing but fetes, 
 rejoicings, and entertainments," and in the evening 
 "there were balls the whole night long in which the 
 ladies, as well as the men, were indefatigable." 
 
 In this gay party there were two sisters, and his lik- 
 ing for the unmarried one a young lady "as prudent 
 and modest as her married sister was headstrong and 
 foolish" had inspired Goldoni to organize this de- 
 lectable excursion, which gave him the opportunity 
 to fall in love, and find himself acceptable to the ob- 
 ject of his longing. The effects of "these balls the 
 whole night long," however, were so severe that when 
 the party returned to Feltre, Goldoni was indisposed 
 for a month and his "poor Angelica lay ill of a fever 
 for forty days." 
 
 There was a theatre in the governor's palace at 
 Feltre, and when the merrymakers had recovered 
 from the fatigues of their journey, Goldoni was asked 
 by his friends to manage some private theatricals. 
 The operas of Metastasio were then the fashion, and 
 as they were "given everywhere even without music," 
 
38 GOLDONI 
 
 the young impresario selected two of them for pre- 
 sentation, and put the arias into recitative. He re- 
 served the worst parts for himself, and "acted wisely,'* 
 he tells us, he being "completely unsuited to tragedy." 
 "Luckily," he continues, "I had composed two small 
 pieces in which I played two character parts and 
 redeemed my reputation." 20 
 
 He tried to induce his "beautiful Angelica" to ac- 
 cept a role in one of these performances, but she was 
 timid, and moreover her parents refused their con- 
 sent. She was jealous, too, and suffered much from 
 seeing her lover on such a familiar footing with the 
 actresses of his amateur troupe. Though "the poor 
 little girl loved him tenderly and sincerely," and he 
 "loved her also with his whole soul," Goldoni did not 
 marry pretty Angelica, the termination of this love 
 affair being thus naively told by him : 
 
 She was the first person, I may say, whom I had ever loved. 
 She aspired to become my wife, and would have been, if certain 
 strange reflections, that were well founded, however, had not de- 
 terred me. Her elder sister had been a remarkable beauty, but 
 after the birth of her first child she became ugly. The younger 
 had the same complexion, and the same characteristics. Hers was 
 one of those delicate beauties the air injures, and the slightest weari- 
 ness or pain impairs. Of this, I had had evident proof, the fatigue 
 of our journey having changed her tremendously. I was young, and 
 should my w T ife lose her bloom in a short time, I foresaw that this 
 would be my despair. This was reasoning too much for a lover; 
 but either from virtue, weakness, or inconstancy, I left Feltre with- 
 out marrying her. 
 
 Although he confesses that he had some difficulty 
 
 20 // Buon padre sometimes called // Buon vecchio, and La Cantatrlce* 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 39 
 
 in tearing himself away from this "charming object 
 of his first virtuous love," he acknowledges that "she 
 possessed only beauty, and as it was already wan- 
 ing, his self-love became stronger than his passion." 
 
 During the autumn of 1730, he left Feltre to join 
 his father at Bagnacavallo, a town near Ravenna, 
 where Dr. Goldoni, who had gone there to accept 
 "an advantageous offer" to practice medicine, lay ill 
 of a mortal disease. On the way thither, young 
 Carlo was cleverly plucked at faro by a card-sharper, 
 he being "not yet cunning enough," he declares, "to 
 foresee the tricks of Messieurs les Escamoteurs" 
 
 On arriving at Bagnacavallo, he was "consoled for 
 being swindled, by the sight of his dear parents," his 
 father "having been fearful that he would die with- 
 out seeing him." Dr. Goldoni recovered sufficiently, 
 however, to introduce his son into the best society of 
 his new abode, as well as to take him to Faenza, 
 where the pair saw several comedies performed by a 
 strolling company. On returning to Bagnacavallo, 
 the elder Goldoni, whose "illness was of a year's 
 standing," experienced a relapse so serious that he 
 took to his bed, and after a fortnight, "breathed his 
 last while recommending his dear wife to his son's 
 protection." 
 
 Goldoni "felt keenly the loss of his father," he as- 
 sures us, and he "endeavoured to console his mother, 
 who in turn tried to comfort him," their first care 
 being to return to Venice. During the journey, the 
 widow urged her son to become a lawyer, and at 
 
40 GOLDONI 
 
 Venice so many friends and relatives joined her in 
 these solicitations, that he was "at last obliged to 
 yield," though he resisted, he tells us, "as long as he 
 could." 
 
 In order to be admitted to the Venetian bar, it was 
 necessary for him to receive his doctorate from the 
 University of Padua, where a five-years' residence 
 was required of students of Venetian birth, foreigners 
 alone being permitted "to present themselves and de- 
 fend their theses without delay." Both Goldoni and 
 his father were born in Venice, but they were of 
 Modenese descent; a circumstance that enabled our 
 dramatist to avail himself of the protection of the 
 Duke of Modena, and be admitted to the university 
 as a privileged foreigner. 
 
 He had studied law in a desultory way at Pavia, 
 Udine, and Modena; yet, realizing the need of tutor- 
 ing, he secured the services of Francesco Radi, a 
 young lawyer who had been his friend during child- 
 hood. Radi was "a worthy man," although "his cir- 
 cumstances were entangled because of his love for 
 gaming," a failing that soon became manifest. 
 
 The examinations at the University of Padua had 
 been heretofore a mere farce, but the Abbe Arrighi, 
 a Corsican professor, in an excess of zeal had just in- 
 stituted reforms which, according to our young candi- 
 date, "would have destroyed the University of Padua 
 had they been long enforced." Instead of being 
 furnished with both questions and answers in 
 advance of the examination, as had been custom- 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 41 
 
 ary, he was examined rigidly by Arrighi him- 
 self, before being permitted to hold his thesis 
 before the college of doctors. He passed this 
 preliminary test none too brilliantly, and being in 
 considerable apprehension regarding the public ex- 
 amination on the morrow, he spent the afternoon in 
 cramming assiduously; but when he sat down at his 
 desk after supper with Radi his tutor, prepared to 
 burn the midnight oil, his room was invaded by five 
 young fellows armed with a pack of cards. Radi, 
 being a gambler born, was the first to succumb to 
 their blandishments ; but Goldoni did not long with- 
 stand temptation, and not till broad daylight, when 
 the beadle of the university brought him his aca- 
 demic gown, did he tear himself away from the 
 green board, and "smarting from chagrin at the loss 
 of both his time and his money" hasten before the 
 college of doctors. 
 
 In spite of the night's dissipation, he held his 
 thesis so successfully that when the votes were taken, 
 the registrar announced that he had been made a 
 licentiate without a dissenting voice, even Arrighi, 
 the Corsican, being "well satisfied." "I was born 
 lucky," he says, "and whenever I have not been so, 
 the fault has been entirely my own," but on this oc- 
 casion luck certainly prevented a fault from undoing 
 him. 
 
 Borrowing sufficient money to reach Venice, he 
 hastened there, highly elated by his success, and was 
 received in the loving arms of his proud mother and 
 
42 GOLDONI 
 
 aunt; but before he could begin the practice of law, 
 he was obliged, according to the Venetian regula- 
 tions, to study the forms and practices of the bar in 
 a law office for two years. His uncle Indric, the 
 barrister, obtained a berth for him in the office of 
 "one of the best pleaders in the republic," and again 
 his luck served him; since owing to the careless- 
 ness of the authorities who examined his papers, 
 within eight months he was permitted to be pre- 
 sented in court. After making "so many bows and 
 contortions that his back was almost broken and his 
 wig resembled the mane of a lion," he was finally ad- 
 mitted to the Venetian bar. 
 
 A briefless barrister, he began to seek clients. One 
 day while he was "building castles in Spain," he was 
 accosted by "a fair, round, and plump woman of 
 about thirty," who, after telling him that she had 
 made the fortune of "a good dozen of the most 
 famous advocates at the bar of Venice," proceeded 
 to tempt him with some shady cases, for the conduct 
 of which he would be well paid. "My good 
 woman," he answered, "I am young, and entering on 
 my career; yet the desire for work and the itch for 
 pleading will never induce me to undertake such 
 evil cases as you propose, for I am a man of honour." 
 Seeing she could not corrupt him, she admonished 
 him to be "always prudent and always honourable," 
 and left him "lost in astonishment" at her sudden 
 change of heart, till he learned that she was a govern- 
 ment spy who had been sent to sound his integrity. 
 
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 43 
 
 No longer a precocious child, or a prankish stu- 
 dent, he had embraced at the age of twenty-five, the 
 "lucrative and honourable" profession of the law 
 and had withstood its first temptation. Still he ques- 
 tioned whether he had acted wisely, his "stars hav- 
 ing perpetually thwarted his projects." They had 
 led him, too, into many pitfalls, and shown him more 
 of evil ways than a young man of his age ought in 
 all conscience to have seen. Yet his youth, though 
 unseemly, had been an invaluable school of ex- 
 perience for the life-work which he was soon to un- 
 dertake; for though he had acceded to his mother's 
 wishes, "Thalia," to quote his own words, "expected 
 him in her temple and led him to it through many 
 a crooked path, making him endure the thorns and the 
 briers before yielding him any of the flowers." 
 
 
II 
 
 THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 
 
 ALTHOUGH Thalia expected him in her tem- 
 ple, at no time in his long life was Goldoni 
 so indifferent to her allurements as at the mo- 
 ment when he became a Venetian lawyer. With a 
 doting mother dependent upon him, he had acceded 
 to her wishes and was now a member of a profession 
 so honourable that "even a patrician would not hesi- 
 tate to embrace it"; and he hoped that "perseverance 
 and probity would lead him to the temple of fortune," 
 instead of to Thalia's shrine. "I had been admitted 
 to the bar," he says, "and the next thing was to pro- 
 cure clients"; yet no one sought his advice, except 
 "a few curious persons who wished to sound him, 
 or shufflers of a dangerous sort," that being "the lot," 
 as he adds, "of all beginners." 
 
 "Truth has always been my favourite virtue," he 
 says in the preface to his memoirs, and being forced 
 "to pass many hours alone in his office," he had an 
 abundance of time in which to realize the truth re- 
 garding himself. Although he had held a thesis suc- 
 cessfully after a night of dissipation, he had done little 
 of which he might be truly proud. He had de- 
 camped from one college and had been expelled from 
 
 44 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 45 
 
 another; his love affairs had been mostly of a scan- 
 dalous nature, and he had shown a propensity for 
 gambling, while more than once he had returned to 
 the parental roof a prodigal, seeking forgiveness; 
 yet, in spite of faults he shared with the majority of 
 the Venetians of his day, he was both frank and kind, 
 and never "too proud to help a friend." Being 
 "neither lucky enough to call himself virtuous, nor 
 unlucky enough to be carried away by evil conduct," 
 truth was, indeed, his surpassing virtue. The pages 
 of his candid memoirs teem with self-condemnation, 
 as well as with honest vanity, few autobiographers 
 having equalled him in frankness. 
 
 An easy-going child of an easy-going age, Goldoni 
 possessed what Mr. Howells calls "the vagabondiz- 
 ing instinct" ; 1 yet in the words of that benign writer, 
 "no kindlier creature seems ever to have lived, and 
 he had traits of genuine modesty that made him truly 
 lovable." In youth and early manhood, the vaga- 
 bondizing instinct obsessed him, for although imbued 
 with "the best intentions in the world of devoting 
 himself to the thing that interested him," that thing 
 was the stage, and from the moment he ran away 
 from Rimini with Florindo's troupe, and the sou- 
 brette aroused in him "a strange sensation," Thalia 
 expected him in her temple. 
 
 Though he frequented the law courts in hope that 
 "his face might prove sympathetic to some one with 
 a cause to plead," that face was far too jovial to in- 
 
 1 Memoirs of Carlo Goldoni, translated from the original French by 
 John Black, with an essay by William D. Howells. 
 
46 GOLDONI 
 
 spire the confidence of serious clients; therefore, as 
 the theatres of Venice were closed for the summer, 
 to make the time that hung heavily on his idle hands 
 less wearisome, he wrote an almanac, 2 the criticisms 
 and pleasantries of which were of a comic nature, he 
 informs us, "while each prognostication might have 
 furnished the subject for a comedy." 
 
 "Seized with a desire to return to his old project" 
 of writing comedies, he "sketched a few pieces," but, 
 "reflecting that comedy did not harmonize with the 
 dignity of his gown," he became "guilty of a breach 
 of fidelity to Thalia, by enlisting under the standard 
 of Melpomene," for during the days when "his office 
 brought him in nothing," and he was "under the ne- 
 cessity of turning his time to some account," he wrote 
 
 / Amalasontha (Amalasunta) , a tragedy for music, 
 destined, as will be seen, to meet a tragic fate. 
 
 i Although he was "well pleased with his labour" 
 and "found people to whom the reading of it ap- 
 peared to give satisfaction," a law case his uncle 
 Indric had obtained for him, caused him to forswear 
 Melpomene, as well as Thalia, for the time being, 
 and appear in a court of law, a barrister in full stand- 
 ing. Though opposed by Carlo Cordellina, "the 
 most learned and eloquent man at the Venetian bar," 
 our young lawyer's "facts were so convincing," he in- 
 forms us, and "his reasoning was so good, his voice 
 so sonorous, and his eloquence so pleasing," that after 
 
 2 L'Esperienza del passato, Astrologo dell' avvenire, Almanacco crltico 
 per I'anno 1732, published anonymously at Venice, 1732. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 47 
 
 speaking for two hours and being "bathed in perspira- 
 tion from head to foot," he won his case, and was 
 assured by his lawyer uncle that henceforth he would 
 never lack for clients, "it being apparent to all that 
 he was a man destined to make his mark in the world." 
 Luckily for posterity, however, the career at the bar 
 thus auspiciously begun was cut short by one of those 
 "inanities and absurdities that were ever crossing his 
 path to stop and hinder the best intentions in the 
 world," a farcical love affair being the cause of a sud- 
 den change in his fortune. 
 
 His mother had become intimate, it appears, with 
 a "Madame St. , and a "Mademoiselle Mar 
 
 ," two sisters living in separate apartments, yet 
 under the same roof. Though forty, Mademoiselle 
 
 Mar was still "fresh as a rose, white as snow, 
 
 and agreeably plump," and as she was rich, Goldoni 
 decided it would be to his advantage to marry her; 
 therefore, he enlisted his mother in his cause, she 
 promising to make the customary parental advances. 
 Though "the lovers understood each other," Madame 
 Goldoni moved very cautiously, and meanwhile an 
 
 ugly daughter of Madame St. began to use 
 
 her roguish black eyes on the young lawyer so effec- 
 tively, that Mademoiselle Mar became jealous 
 
 of her niece, and to show her displeasure began to 
 receive the attentions of a patrician fortune-hunter. 
 "Seeing himself deprived of the place of honour he 
 had occupied," Goldoni, in pique, began to make 
 love to the niece, and became so completely ena- 
 
48 GOLDONI 
 
 moured of his "ugly mistress," that he drew up "a 
 marriage contract, regular and formal in every re- 
 spect," by the terms of which he was to be endowed 
 with all the young lady's income while her mother's 
 diamonds were to be given to her. 
 
 Although he thus proved himself an able solici- 
 tor, in both a legal and an amorous sense, he con- 
 tinued to flirt with Mademoiselle Mar , the 
 
 aunt, whose patrician suitor, meanwhile, had asked 
 for the half of her fortune as a marriage settlement, 
 and the bequeathal of the other half upon her death. 
 These demands appeared modest in comparison with 
 those Goldoni had imposed upon her niece; yet 
 
 Mademoiselle Mar was seized with such 
 
 "transports of rage, hatred, and contempt" that she 
 gave her noble suitor the mitten. Although she "al- 
 most died of grief," she recovered sufficiently to en- 
 deavour to bring Goldoni to her feet once more ; the 
 part he then played being "perfidious," in his opin- 
 ion. 
 
 His perfidy seems trivial, however, in comparison 
 with the dual fortune hunt in which he had engaged, 
 since it consisted in an offence no more heinous than 
 the writing of some love verses which were set to music 
 by a friend and sung by a professional singer before 
 the door of the apartment house in which both lady- 
 loves dwelt. Each thought the serenade a tribute 
 to her own charms, and the upshot was that Goldoni, 
 being forced to declare himself, eschewed the aunt 
 and accepted the niece. But in spite of the advan- 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 49 
 
 tageous contract he had drawn, the fortune of his 
 "ugly mistress" did not materialize, since it consisted 
 solely in the expectation of "one of those life annui- 
 ties destined by the republic for a certain number of 
 the daughters of impoverished patricians," of whom 
 Goldoni's fiancee was fourth in the line of succession. 
 Moreover, her mother refused to part with her dia- 
 monds during her own lifetime. Goldoni's law 
 practice yielded him nothing and he had contracted 
 debts, therefore he saw himself "standing on the 
 brink of a precipice" ; but after sustaining "a distress- 
 ing conflict between love and reason, the latter fac- 
 ulty gained at last a complete dominion over his 
 senses." 
 
 His mother mortgaged her property to pay his 
 debts ; yet, despite the fact that he had just made a 
 successful debut in court "amid the acclamations of 
 the bar," she agreed with him that "in order to avoid 
 ruin, some violent resolution was absolutely neces- 
 sary"; therefore he decided to flee from Venice. 
 Leaving "his country, his relatives, his friends, his 
 love, his hopes, and his profession," he left, too, a 
 letter for the mother of his betrothed, in which he 
 promised to return and wed her daughter, whenever 
 the conditions of the marriage contract should be 
 fulfilled; then taking to the high-road with his 
 "treasure," the turgid manuscript of Amalasontha, he 
 turned vagabond steps toward Lombardy, in the fond 
 hope of selling that lyrical tragedy to the opera at 
 Milan for a hundred sequins. 
 
50 GOLDONI 
 
 On the way thither, he stopped a few days at Vi- 
 cenza, where he read Amalasontha to Count Trissino 
 of the family of the renaissance poet of that name. 
 Though wisely advised by this scion of a poetic house 
 to be constant to Thalia, he fared on to Verona, with 
 the hope of meeting Scipione Maflei, a dramatist, 
 who was then striving vainly to elevate the Italian 
 stage; but failing to find this patrician author on the 
 banks of the Adige, he took the Brescia road. Meet- 
 ing at Desenzano a friendly priest who was journey- 
 ing to Salo, he accompanied him to that lakeside 
 town, for the purpose of collecting the rents of a 
 house his mother owned there, he being, as he says, 
 "very short of money." As his mother had mort- 
 gaged her property to pay his debts, she must have 
 been short of money, too ; yet he pocketed her rents 
 without compunction. Journeying on to Brescia, he 
 read Amalasontha to the governor's assessor and a 
 party of his friends, who "listened to it attentively 
 and applauded it unanimously" ; yet to this judicious 
 assembly, the young author's style appeared more 
 adapted to tragedy than opera; therefore, he was ad- 
 vised to suppress the lyrics, and make Amalasontha 
 purely a tragedy. 
 
 Scorning this sage counsel, he started for Milan, 
 confident that its opera would soon vindicate him. 
 At Bergamo, he tarried long enough to borrow ten 
 sequins from the governor of that craggy city and 
 obtain from his wife letters of introduction to per- 
 sons of influence in Milan, their excellencies being 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 51 
 
 none other than the Podesta of Chioggia and his con- 
 sort, whose praises Goldoni had sung in verse while 
 holding in that town the office of coadjutor's assistant. 
 Having thus received back the bread he had once 
 cast upon the waters of courtesy, he hastened to Milan, 
 where he alighted at a famous inn, because, as he says, 
 "when you wish to show yourself to advantage, you 
 must appear rich, even when not so." Upon pre- 
 senting to Orazio Bartolini, the Venetian minister 
 resident, the letter of introduction given him by the 
 wife of the governor of Bergamo, he was received 
 by that diplomat in "a most frank and encouraging 
 way." Bartolini laughed heartily at Goldoni's re- 
 cital of the story of the amorous mishap that led him 
 to flee from Venice, and offered to assist him finan- 
 cially; but the young wanderer still possessed a few 
 of the governor of Bergamo's sequins as well as his 
 precious Amalasontha; therefore he declined this 
 generous offer, and went forth hopefully to present 
 his lyrical tragedy to the management of the opera. 
 
 Both Caffariello, the leading tenor, and Madame 
 Grossatesta, the premiere danseuse, were Venetians 
 with whom he was already acquainted, and through 
 the kind offices of the latter, he met the principal 
 singers of the opera, as well as Count Francesco 
 Prata, one of its directors, who forthwith invited him 
 to read Amalasontha to the company assembled in 
 La Grossatesta's drawing-room. Goldoni's account 
 of this reading paints so vividly the vain ways of 
 stage folk, that the reader familiar with theatrical 
 
52 GOLDONI 
 
 life should enjoy its description of the ruthless way 
 in which his hopes were crushed : 
 
 A small table and a candle were brought, round which we 
 seated ourselves, and I began to read. I announced the title as 
 Amalasontha, whereupon Cafrariello sang the word Amalasontha. 
 It was long and to him it seemed ridiculous; everybody laughed, 
 but I did not laugh; the lady of the house scolded; the night- 
 ingale became silent. I read the names of the characters, of 
 whom there were nine, and at this the small voice of an old 
 male soprano who sang in the chorus and mewed like a cat, was 
 heard to say: "Too many, too many, there are at least two char- 
 acters too many." I realized that I was ill at ease, and wished 
 to stop the reading. Silencing this insolent fellow, who had not 
 the talent of Caffariello to excuse him, M. Prata turned to me 
 and said: "It is true, sir, that ordinarily there are but six or 
 seven characters in an opera, but when a work is deserving of it, 
 we gladly incur the expense of two additional actors. Be so kind, 
 if you please, as to continue the reading." 
 
 I resumed my reading: "Act first, scene first; Clodesile and 
 Arpagon," whereupon M. Caffariello asked me the name of 
 the leading tenor part in my opera. "Sir," said I, "it is Clodesile." 
 "What!" he replied, "you open with the principal artist, you have 
 him enter when everybody is being seated and making a noise! 
 Egad, I am not your man." (What patience!) Here M. Prata 
 interrupted. "Let us see," said he, "if the scene is interesting!" 
 I read the first scene, and while I was reciting my verses, an im- 
 potent weakling drew a manuscript from his pocket and, going to 
 the harpsichord, began to rehearse a song from his part. The 
 hostess made endless excuses; taking me by the hand, M. Prata 
 led me to a boudoir, remote from the main room, and seating him- 
 self beside me, M. le Comte pacified me regarding the ill conduct 
 of a company of giddy brains, and at the same time begged me to 
 read my drama to him alone, in order that he might judge it and 
 tell me his sincere opinion. 
 
 After the budding author had read his play "from 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 53 
 
 the first verse to the last," the Count, who had "lis- 
 tened patiently," pointed out its innumerable defects 
 in a spirit both kindly and wise. 
 
 Overcome with chagrin by Count Prata's criticism, 
 Goldoni returned, crestfallen, to his lodging, and re- 
 fusing to sup, ordered a fire. "My piece is good," he 
 exclaimed, his "treasure" still in his trembling hand. 
 "I am certain of it; but the theatre is bad; and the 
 actors, actresses, composers, and scene-painters may 
 the devil take them all! And thou, unlucky produc- 
 tion, that hast cost me so much labour and deceived 
 my hopes and expectations, I consign thee to devour- 
 ing flames." 
 
 Having pronounced this requiem, he threw Ama- 
 lasontha into the fire, and watching it burn with "a 
 sort of cool complacency," stirred the ashes; then or- 
 dering supper, he "ate heartily and drank still more," 
 whereupon he went to bed "and enjoyed a profound 
 sleep." On the morrow, he awoke two hours earlier 
 than usual, and "plucking up courage," paid his re- 
 spects to the Venetian minister, who on hearing the 
 tale of his discomfiture, forthwith attached him to 
 his staff, in the quality of a gentleman of the cham- 
 ber. His official duties being chiefly to "pay com- 
 plimentary calls upon travelling Venetians of noble 
 birth, or to wait upon the Governor and magistrates 
 of Milan in the business of the Republic," Goldoni 
 found himself, as he confesses, "rather a gainer than 
 a loser by the failure which he had sustained." 
 
 Having considerable time at his disposal in which 
 
54 GOLDONI 
 
 "to amuse himself or do as he pleased," he met during 
 these idle hours a charlatan named Buonafede Vitali, 
 whose nom de guerre was The Anonymous (IL'A- 
 nonimo). Born of a good family and educated as a 
 Jesuit, "this singular man," as Goldoni styles him, 
 "to whom no science was unknown," was a quack dis- 
 penser of opiates and drugs like L'Orietan and Bary, 
 the famous operateurs whom Moliere saw on the 
 Pont-Neuf during his youth; like them, too, he em- 
 ployed a troupe of buffoons to attract customers. 
 
 For the purpose of studying his character, Goldoni 
 consulted The Anonymous, but the quack quickly 
 discovered that curiosity and not illness had brought 
 the young Venetian to his booth; therefore, he pre- 
 scribed a cup of chocolate as "the most suitable rem- 
 edy for his disease"; and soon these two wanderers 
 with "the vagabondizing instinct" were cronies. 
 By obtaining, through the influence of the Venetian 
 minister, an engagement at the Milan theatre for 
 the buffoons of The Anonymous, Goldoni did this 
 charlatan a good turn, and as the future dramatist 
 wrote, for performance during this engagement, The 
 Venetian Gondolier (II Gondoliere veneziano), a 
 musical interlude which was "the first of his comedy 
 efforts to appear in public," The Anonymous was the 
 first manager to produce one of his plays, a distinc- 
 tion whereby his name survives his quackery. More- 
 over, an actor in this charlatan's company, named 
 Gaetano Casali, gave Goldoni his first serious com- 
 mission, for when "a detestable piece," called Belts- 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 55 
 
 arius (Belisario), was produced at the Milan theatre 
 during the engagement of The Anonymous's troupe, 
 the young playwright analysed its faults so indispu- 
 tably, that Casali, who expected to appear shortly 
 on the Venetian stage, persuaded him to undertake 
 the making of "a good piece out of a bad one." A 
 few days later, Goldoni read to Casali the first act of 
 his own version of Belisarius, that Thespian being 
 delighted with it; but before the aspiring author 
 could finish his tragi-comedy, several events trans- 
 pired to divert his mind into channels remote from 
 the drama. 
 
 There were rumours of war in Lombardy, and the 
 Venetian minister, upon being called home on private 
 business, charged his young gentleman of the cham- 
 ber with the writing of a daily letter regarding the 
 political situation. The importance of this duty lay 
 so lightly on Goldoni's shoulders, however, that he 
 soon became enmeshed in the toils of an adventuress. 
 
 While lunching at a suburban inn with a friend 
 named Carrara, he saw a pretty girl in a window and 
 learned from the landlord that she was a Venetian 
 who had come to his hostelry a few days before, ac- 
 companied by a gentleman of "respectable appear- 
 ance," who had since disappeared. Thinking this 
 fair compatriot might be in distress, Goldoni knocked 
 at her door, and on being admitted, listened to a pa- 
 thetic tale, told amid a flood of tears, while Carrara 
 wise man of the world stood in the doorway, 
 laughing. The lady gave her name as Margherita 
 
56 GOLDONI 
 
 Biondi, though the credulous knight-errant after- 
 wards learned that this was not her real name. She 
 was of good birth, she told him, but having fallen in 
 love with a man of superior station, his family had 
 opposed their marriage so assiduously, that, aided by 
 a maternal uncle who adored her, she had eloped 
 with her patrician lover. She had been pursued ; but 
 though her uncle had been captured and thrown into 
 prison, she had escaped to Milan with her lover, who, 
 alas, had gone out on the morning after their arrival, 
 and had never returned. 
 
 Goldoni was so affected by "the gushing tears of 
 this languishing beauty," that he forthwith hired a 
 furnished apartment for her, and began to use his 
 diplomatic influence to the end of obtaining her 
 uncle's release from prison. "He could refuse her 
 nothing," he confesses, and he "visited her fre- 
 quently" ; but his good fortune was of short duration, 
 since his servant burst into his room one morning with 
 the exciting news that "fifteen thousand Savoyards, 
 horse and foot, had taken possession of Milan and 
 were drawn up in the cathedral square." "We were 
 at the commencement of the War of 1733," he says, 
 "called the War of Don Carlos, 3 and the King of Sar- 
 
 3 During the War of the Polish Succession (1733-1735), the allied 
 French and Sardinian armies, commanded by the veteran Marshal Villars, 
 entered Milan, then an Austrian possession, on the night of Nov. 3, 1733, 
 and after possessing themselves of the town, laid siege to the citadel, 
 which capitulated on Jan. 2, 1734. Don Carlos (afterwards King 
 Charles III of Spain), the prince of whom Goldoni here speaks, was the 
 son of Philip V of Spain by his second wife, Elizabeth Farnese, an 
 Italian, for whom the Duchy of Parma had been created by the Pope. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 57 
 
 dinia, having declared himself for that Prince, 
 had united his forces with those of France and Spain, 
 against the house of Austria." Goldoni's chief 
 thought, however, was not of the politics that had 
 caused the invasion of Milan, but of the safety of 
 Margherita Biondi, for when the Franco-Sardinian 
 army laid siege to the citadel, the street where she 
 dwelt was within the range of shot and shell. "I 
 confided her," he tells us, "to the care of a Genoese 
 merchant, in whose house I could only see her in the 
 midst of a numerous and excessively punctilious fam- 
 ily." 
 
 When the Venetian Legation was removed shortly 
 thereafter to Crema, a frontier town, the young at- 
 tache was obliged to say farewell to his fair 
 Venetian, "who wept on hearing the news, and 
 seemed quite inconsolable." His first care, on arriv- 
 ing at Crema, was to visit the jail where her supposed 
 uncle a chevalier d' Industrie named Scacciati 
 was confined; but he had already departed, Goldoni's 
 efforts having secured his release. From his friend 
 Carrara, our young Venetian learned that the rogue 
 had joined Margherita in Milan. "In delivering 
 over to him a girl who was a burden to you, and by 
 no means deserving of your care, I have rendered you 
 
 As her step-son, Don Ferdinand, was still living and therefore heir to 
 the throne of Spain, this ambitious queen desired a crown for Don Carlos, 
 her own son. In 1720, Sicily and Naples had been ceded to Austria, 
 but as an outcome of the War of the Polish Succession, Don Carlos ob- 
 tained through the efforts of his ambitious mother and his own military 
 valour, the crown of the kingdom of the Two Sicilies; hence in Italy this 
 war was known as the War of Don Carlos. 
 
58 GOLDONI 
 
 a useful service," wrote Carrara; and "at a distance 
 from this enchanting object," says Goldoni, "I owned 
 that my friend had conducted himself with great 
 propriety." 
 
 Being dissatisfied with the behaviour of his secre- 
 tary, the Venetian minister installed Goldoni in his 
 stead, and for a few months this susceptible young 
 man discharged his official duties satisfactorily. 
 When Pizzighettone, a town in the neighbourhood 
 of Crema, was besieged, he was sent during an armis- 
 tice to the camp of the allies, "in the quality of an 
 honourable spy." The observations he made while 
 there were to be used profitably by him, some twenty- 
 seven years later, as the inspiration of a spirited com- 
 edy. 4 Meanwhile he enjoyed the festivities he thus 
 describes : 
 
 A bridge thrown over the breach afforded a communication be- 
 tween the besiegers and the besieged ; tables were laid everywhere, 
 and the officers entertained one another. Both without and within, 
 under tents and in bowers, balls, banquets, and concerts were 
 given. All the inhabitants of the neighbourhood flocked there, on 
 foot, on horseback and in carriages; provisions arrived from every 
 quarter; abundance was established instantly, while charlatans and 
 mountebanks did not fail to hurry thither; it was a charming 
 fair, a delightful resort. 
 
 When Pizzighettone surrendered, the theatre of 
 the war moved farther south, whereupon Goldonrs 
 diplomatic labours were so lightened that he found 
 time to finish his tragi-comedy Belisarius. Then 
 Gian Paolo, his brother, appeared at Crema to af- 
 
 4 La Guerra. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 59 
 
 flict him. Upon the death of the soldier who had 
 taken charge of his military education, this ne'er-do- 
 well had resigned from the Venetian service, and 
 having failed in his efforts to obtain a commission 
 in the army of the Duke of Modena, he besought his 
 brother's help ; but no sooner had Goldoni obtained 
 for him his own former post of gentleman of the 
 chamber, than Gian Paolo began to quarrel with the 
 minister. Being promptly dismissed, he took his 
 leave "in a very ill humour," Goldoni says, "and his 
 bad conduct so injured me in the mind of the minis- 
 ter, that he never afterward showed me the same kind- 
 ness and friendship." 
 
 Yet the young diplomat's own delinquencies were 
 not inconsequential. One day when engaged in 
 copying a state paper, he heard a knock at his door, 
 his visitor being Scacciati, the pseudo-uncle of Mar- 
 gherita Biondi. On learning that this fair quean was 
 at a neighbouring inn, he hurriedly finished his work, 
 then spent the night in revelry. Discovering his ab- 
 sence, his chief accused him of having gone forth to 
 sell the secrets of the document he had copied to a 
 rival diplomat, the fact that he had been carousing 
 instead, being considered no palliation. As young 
 Goldoni was "unwilling to expose himself to more 
 such unpleasant scenes," he resigned his secretary- 
 ship and departed in a humble hired chaise for Mo- 
 dena, where his mother then resided. Once more, 
 his treasure was a tragedy, for he took with him the 
 manuscript of Belisarius. 
 
60 GOLDONI 
 
 At Parma he witnessed a battle between the Allies 
 and the Austrians (June 29, 1734), which he de- 
 scribes graphically in his memoirs, "the most horri- 
 ble and disgusting spectacle," to his mind, being the 
 field on the following day, where thousands of bodies, 
 stripped by ghouls during the night, "lay naked in 
 heaps." The road to Modena being infested by the 
 stragglers of both armies, he left the Parmesan bat- 
 tle-field for Brescia, accompanied by a young priest 
 who "loved the stage." Author-like, Goldoni "took 
 care to mention Bellsarius" and was reading it aloud 
 to his sacerdotal companion when their chaise was 
 suddenly halted by five armed men in military uni- 
 form, who forthwith proceeded to despoil the bud- 
 ding dramatist of his "purse, watch, and small box," 
 the priest "being treated in like manner." 
 
 While these military highwaymen were ransack- 
 ing the baggage, the driver whipped up his horses 
 and escaped. Regardless of what might befall the 
 priest, Goldoni meanwhile took to flight as well, 
 happy in the fact that he had "saved Bellsarius from 
 the wreck." Running until he fell exhausted by a 
 stream, its "delicious water" so revived him that he 
 managed to reach some peasants he saw labouring in a 
 field. They proved to be kindly men, who shared 
 their humble evening meal with him, and one of their 
 number conducted him to Casal Pusterlengo, 5 a town 
 in the neighbourhood of Lodi, where he found cheer 
 and a lodging beneath the hospitable roof of the 
 
 5 Erroneously called Casal Pasturlengo by Goldoni. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 61 
 
 parish priest. His literary ardour, however, was 
 not dampened by these mishaps, since on the follow- 
 ing evening he read Belisarius to an audience com- 
 posed of priests and villagers who "proved by their 
 applause that his work was suited to every capacity 
 and equally capable of pleasing the learned and the 
 ignorant." 
 
 Profuse in his compliments, his amiable host lent 
 Goldoni a horse and a servant, but when he reached 
 Brescia he was penniless. In his hour of need, he 
 met Scacciati in the street, who proved himself a 
 grateful rogue, since he loaned him six sequins and 
 refused to take his note of hand. Scacciatiis pseudo- 
 niece was at Brescia, too, and needless to say, she re- 
 ceived Goldoni with open arms. Moreover, she told 
 him the story of her life, which he thus relates: 
 
 Scacciati was not her uncle, but a knave who had carried her 
 off from her parents and sold her to a rich man, who left her 
 within two months, after having paid the broker more handsomely 
 than the lady. She was tired of living with this drone, who spent 
 profusely what she gained with repugnance. . . . She wished to 
 get rid of him and asked my advice regarding the execution of her 
 project. Had I been rich, I should have freed her from her 
 tyrant; but in my present circumstances I could give her no other 
 advice than to apply to her relatives, and seek to be reconciled 
 with those who had a right to reclaim her. 
 
 Though unconscionable, these adventurers were 
 kind to Goldoni. Besides loaning him money, they 
 gave him a night's lodging and a meal; but he re- 
 fused their invitation to tarry in Brescia, and on the 
 
 
62 GOLDONI 
 
 morrow he set out for Verona. "I saw the lady some 
 years later," he says, "very well married in Venice; 
 but M. Scacciati finished his career by being sen- 
 tenced to the galleys." 
 
 At Verona, the tide of Goldoni's ill fortunes turned. 
 A theatrical company was playing there on a tem- 
 porary stage erected in the Roman amphitheatre ; and 
 being attracted thither by the play-bills, to his joy 
 he recognized in the actor who addressed the public 
 before the performance, the Casali who had commis- 
 sioned him to write Belisarius. Making his way to 
 the stage, he was warmly greeted by Casali, who in- 
 troduced him to Giuseppe Imer, the manager, "a 
 man of intellect and information who was passion- 
 ately fond of comedy." Imer's company played dur- 
 ing the autumn and winter at the San Samuele thea- 
 tre in Venice, belonging to a patrician family, named 
 Grimani, and at Casali's instigation Goldoni was in- 
 vited to read Belisarius to this metropolitan troupe. 8 
 
 "My play was listened to with attention," he tells 
 us, and at the conclusion "the applause was general 
 and complete." "Imer took me by the hand," he 
 continues, "and in a magisterial tone said, 'Bravo P 
 while Casali exclaimed, 'M. Goldoni did me the hon- 
 our to labour for me.' " When the members of this 
 troupe learned that The Singer (La Gantatrice] , 7 a 
 
 6 It is interesting to note that Zanetta (Maria Giovanna) Casanova, 
 mother of the arch-adventurer of that name, was a member of Imer's 
 troupe at this time. 
 
 7 According to Goldoni, La Cantatrice had been plagiarized by a young 
 Venetian lawyer named Gori, and put forth as his own work. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 63 
 
 musical interlude they had been giving successfully, 
 had been written by Goldoni at Feltre, four years pre- 
 viously, they needed no further proof of his "quali- 
 ties as a dramatic poet." Belisarius was accepted 
 forthwith, and as a mark of the manager's "particular 
 gratitude," its author received a present of six se- 
 quins, which he despatched to Scacciati, in repayment 
 of the loan that rogue had made him. 
 
 "Such is my system," he says. "I have always en- 
 deavoured to avoid meanness ; yet I have never been 
 proud. I have helped, whenever it lay in my power 
 to do so, those who were in need of my assistance. 
 Moreover, I have received help without embarrass- 
 ment and have even asked for it unblushingly when- 
 ever I needed it." 
 
 Goldoni reached Verona in the summer (1734), 
 and at the end of September he departed for Venice 
 with Imer and his troupe; meanwhile he had written 
 the libretto of a musical interlude, 8 and before the 
 company left Verona, the parts of Belisarius had been 
 distributed. Indeed, that summer marks the com- 
 mencement of his career as a professional dramatist, 
 The Venetian Gondolier, a pretty trifle he had writ- 
 ten for The Anonymous, being merely its prologue. 
 At Milan he was a dilettante writing for pleasure; 
 whereas at Verona he was a penniless vagabond seek- 
 ing a livelihood. 
 
 Upon reaching Venice, Goldoni learned that his 
 mother, who was still at Modena, had paid "nearly 
 
 *LaPupilla. 
 
64 GOLDONI 
 
 all his debts." He feared, however, that Madame 
 St. and her daughter might still entertain matri- 
 monial designs regarding him, till his aunt assured 
 him that "these high-minded ladies, on learning that 
 he had entered into an engagement with a troupe of 
 actors, had pronounced him unworthy to approach 
 them." 
 
 His mind being thus relieved, he was able to work 
 untrammelled at his new profession. Meeting 
 Michele Grimani, one of five brothers who owned 
 the San Samuele theatre, he was received by him 
 "with great kindness," and engaged to work for the 
 troupe of which Imer was the head ; whereupon he 
 began the composition of Rosamond (Rosmonda], a 
 tragedy, and The Scamp (La Birba] , an interlude in- 
 spired by the impostors he had seen duping the public 
 in the Piazza San Marco. "The comic traits I made 
 use of in my interludes were so much seed," he says, 
 "sowed by me in my field, in order that I might some 
 day gather ripe and agreeable fruit" ; yet, ere he gar- 
 nered that delightful harvest, his field was parched 
 by dry tragedy and all but laid waste. 
 
 On the twenty-fourth of November (1734), Bell- 
 sarlus was produced at the San Samuele theatre with 
 such success that "some of the actors wept, while oth- 
 ers laughed, from the same feeling of joy." More- 
 over, when a different play was announced for the 
 following evening, the audience demanded Belisar- 
 ius; yet he who reads this dull tragi-comedy to-day 
 can but wonder at this enthusiasm, so turgid are its 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 65 
 
 pompous lines. This play, however, scored phe- 
 nomenally, although Rosamond, its successor, had to 
 be sustained after four performances by the merri- 
 ment of The Scamp. Goldoni had made a distinct 
 impression in the theatrical world of Venice, never- 
 theless, and soon was engaged by Grimani to rewrite 
 the libretto of Griselda, an opera by Zeno and Pari- 
 ati, the music to be written by the Abbe Vivaldi, 
 known as // prete rosso, because of his red hair. 
 
 When the young dramatist conferred with this 
 priest regarding the changes to be made in Griselda, 
 he found him "surrounded by music and with a brevi- 
 ary in his hand." Whenever there was a lull in the 
 conversation, Vivaldi, making the sign of the cross, 
 resumed his breviary, then walking about, he cited 
 psalms and hymns; yet he became, nevertheless, so 
 impressed by Goldoni's lyrics, that he embraced him 
 when they parted, and vowed he would never collab- 
 orate with any other poet. 
 
 During the summer of 1735, which he spent trav- 
 elling with Imer's troupe on the mainland, Goldoni 
 made a versified tragedy of Griselda, as a vehicle for 
 an actress known as La Romana, and at Udine wrote 
 The Foundation of Venice (La Fondazione di Vene- 
 zia) which he describes as "perhaps the first opera 
 comique that had ever appeared in the Venetian 
 States." 9 However, as these early dramatic efforts are 
 
 9 The first opera comique produced in the Venetian States was Elisa, 
 libretto by Domenico Lalli, music by Giovan Maria Ruggeri (1711), and 
 given at the Sant' Angelo. See Scherillo: La prima commedia musicale 
 a Venezia, in Giorn. stor. della Lett. ital. (1883). 
 
66 GOLDONI 
 
 considered in an ensuing chapter, they shall give place 
 for the moment to their author's love affairs, of which 
 there were several to harass him during his engage- 
 ment with Imer's troupe, the proximity of pretty ac- 
 tresses making him fall an easy victim to their wiles. 
 The first of these to whom he paid court assidu- 
 ously was Anjonia Ferramonti, whom he styles "a 
 charming actress, very beautiful, very amiable, and 
 very intelligent." He was "not long in discerning 
 her merits," he tells us, and like many another in- 
 iquitous admirer of a wife, he cultivated her hus- 
 band's friendship. On the way to Udine, instead of 
 accepting the invitation of Imer, the manager, to 
 travel with him, he "set out in an excellent carriage 
 with Madame Ferramonti and the good man, her 
 husband," and although he met in that mountain town 
 the lemonade-vender's daughter from whose amorous 
 toils he had fled nine years previously, he had "no 
 desire," he assures us, "to sacrifice for her his new 
 inclination." His affair with La Ferramonti was 
 short-lived, however, for she died at Udine in child- 
 birth (August, 1735), 10 Goldoni being so distracted 
 by grief that he "could no longer remain in that town, 
 or endure the sight of the women who delighted in his 
 affliction" ; therefore he set out for Venice with the 
 avowed purpose of meeting his mother, who had re- 
 turned meanwhile from Modena. From her he 
 learned that his Venetian property was now disen- 
 cumbered and his Modena revenues increased. 
 
 10 L. Rasi. I Comlci italiani. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 67 
 
 Moreover, his brother had re-entered the army; the 
 family fortunes were mending. 
 
 Goldoni's mother wished him to resume the prac- 
 tice of the law, but he assured her that "play-writing 
 was quite as honourable a career." Though she 
 pleaded "with tears in her eyes," she left him free to 
 choose his own profession; so, when Imer's troupe re- 
 turned to Venice toward the end of September, he re- 
 sumed his duties as playwright. But love, alas, soon 
 made sport of him, for in that troupe was a soubrette 
 with whom he had already philandered at Udine, 
 Elisabetta Moreri d'Afflisio by name, whose pseu- 
 donym was La Passalacqua. 
 
 When Goldoni called on her at Venice, at her ur- 
 gent bidding, she was dressed, he tells us, "like a 
 nymph of Cythera." Being "on his guard," he with- 
 stood her wiles for a while, with "heroic self-denial." 
 "Besides, I did not like her," he adds; "she was too 
 thin, her eyes were too green, and her pale and yel- 
 low complexion was covered with an abundance of 
 paint." By appealing to his vanity, however, instead 
 of to his affection, she played her part cleverly, her 
 reason for wishing to see him having been, so she 
 told him, a desire to secure professional advice from 
 a man of "his talent and intelligence." Yet, when he 
 tried to depart, she seized his arm and led him to her 
 gondola, this being his account of their departure for 
 Cythera : 
 
 How could I refuse to follow her? Therefore we entered this 
 
68 GOLDONI 
 
 vehicle, which is as snug as the most charming boudoir. We 
 made for the middle of the vast lagoon that surrounds the City of 
 Venice. There our skilful gondolier drew the small back cur- 
 tain, made a rudder of his oar, and allowed his gondola to drift 
 at the pleasure of the waves. 
 
 We shall draw the curtain also on that "lover's 
 hour," as it was called by this tactful gondolier, and 
 shift the scene of the comedy to La Passalacqua's 
 boudoir. There Goldoni played the role of injured 
 lover, a handsome actor named Vitalba having been 
 the cause of his jealousy. The dramatist had left 
 "the faithless woman," he avers, "without intending 
 to complain," but "she wrote him a touching and pa- 
 thetic letter," and "whether from curiosity or a wish 
 to give vent to his rage," he decided to see her once 
 more. His own words shall describe the meeting: 
 
 I found her stretched on a sofa, her head resting on a pillow. 
 I greeted her, but she said nothing; I asked her what she had to 
 tell me, but she did not answer. Fire mounted to my face; anger 
 inflamed and blinded me; I gave free vent to my indignation, and 
 without restraint overwhelmed her with the reproaches she de- 
 served. The actress said not a word, but now and then she dried 
 her eyes, and as I dreaded those insidious tears, I sought to leave. 
 "Go, sir," she told me in a trembling voice, "my mind is made up ; 
 you shall have news of me in a few moments." I did not stop be- 
 cause of these vague words, but made my way to the door. On 
 turning to say farewell, I saw her arm raised and a dagger she 
 held in her hand pointed at her breast. Struck with terror at the 
 sight, I lost my head, and running toward her, I threw myself at 
 her feet. Wresting the dagger from her hand, I dried her tears, 
 forgave everything, promised everything, and remained. We 
 dined together, and . . . we were on our former footing. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 69 
 
 Though Goldoni "seriously loved" La Passalacqua 
 for a while, and was convinced that she loved him, 
 too, he soon learned that she and Vitalba "dined and 
 supped together, and laughed at his simplicity." In 
 revenge for this infidelity, he portrayed her ruthlessly 
 in his first sustained comedy, entitled Don Juan Teno- 
 rio; or, The Debauchee (Don Giovanni Tenorio, o 
 sia II Dissoluto), a piece that soon appeared upon the 
 Venetian boards and ran "without interruption" until 
 Shrove Tuesday (1736), with La Passalacqua re- 
 luctantly playing Elisa, a part in which she had not 
 been slow to recognize a portrait of herself. She had 
 protested that she would not appear in this comedy, 
 unless essential changes were made in her role; yet, 
 actress-like, on being told that she must play it as the 
 author had written it, or leave the company, "she in- 
 stantly resolved to outbrave every other considera- 
 tion" ; therefore, "she learned and recited her part in 
 the most perfect manner." 
 
 A year afterward both Vitalba and La Passalacqua 
 left the company. Goldoni bore the latter "no ill 
 will," he tells us, yet he "felt better when he did not 
 see her." Meanwhile, he had met romantically on a 
 journey he made to Genoa with Imer's troupe, the 
 girl who became his faithful helpmate during his 
 long and eventful life. In that city, he won a prize 
 of a hundred pistoles in a lottery, "but there a greater 
 piece of good fortune came to me," he says, "since I 
 married a wise, virtuous, and charming young lady, 
 who made up for all the tricks other women had 
 
7 o GOLDONI 
 
 played me, and reconciled me to the fair sex" with 
 which he had never really been at odds. 
 
 The name of this exemplary girl was Maria Nico- 
 letta Connio, her father being Agostino Connio, one 
 of the four notaries of an important bank. He was 
 "a respectable man," his son-in-law informs us, "of 
 some fortune, but having a very large family, he was 
 not in as easy circumstances as he should have been." 
 His wife, Angela Benedetta, bore this "most worthy 
 gentleman, this excellent father and dutiful citi- 
 zen," " eight children, the eldest daughter being 
 Maria Nicoletta, or "good Nicoletta," as she is fami- 
 liarly called by Goldoni's Italian biographers. At 
 the time of her future husband's advent in Genoa, 
 Nicoletta was nineteen years of age, Goldoni being 
 then twenty-nine. His words shall tell of their meet- 
 ing: 
 
 The manager and I lodged in a house adjoining the theatre, and 
 I had noticed opposite my casement a young lady who appeared to 
 me to be quite pretty, and whose acquaintance I was anxious to 
 make. One day when she was alone in her window, I greeted 
 her somewhat tenderly; whereupon she dipped me a courtesy, but 
 disappeared immediately and did not show herself again. 
 
 His "curiosity was excited" and his "pride 
 piqued," he continues: therefore, he took pains to 
 learn the young lady's name, then borrowed a note 
 Imer had received for the rent of a theatre box, 
 which he presented for payment to Agostino Connio, 
 
 11 Preface to Vol. XV of the Pasquali edition ; Hermann von Lohner, 
 Memoires de Goldoni. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 71 
 
 at the bank where he was employed, and by this sub- 
 terfuge managed to scrape an acquaintance with him. 
 Having seen Goldoni's plays performed, Connio 
 hobnobbed with him at coffee-houses, then invited 
 him to his house, where he met the fair Nicoletta, 
 and within a month he had asked her hand in mar- 
 riage, in the manner he thus describes : 
 
 Having perceived my inclinations, Connio was in no way sur- 
 prised, and he had no apprehension of a refusal on the part of the 
 young lady ; but like a wise and prudent man, he requested a little 
 time ; whereupon he wrote to the Genoese consul at Venice for in- 
 formation regarding my character. 
 
 The information proved highly satisfactory; there- 
 fore, when he had obtained from his mother the 
 necessary legal documents for a marriage beyond the 
 confines of his native state, as well as her consent, 
 Goldoni was wedded to pretty Nicoletta (Aug. 23, 
 1736). During the ceremony at the house of the 
 bride, he had felt feverish, and at the service in the 
 church of San Sisto on the following day, he became 
 so faint that he was obliged to retire to the sacristy. 
 That night, which, in his own words, "should have 
 been so joyful," he became ill of the smallpox for the 
 second time, that fell disease having assailed him at 
 Rimini sixteen years before. "I was not dangerously 
 ill," he says, "and I became no uglier than I was be- 
 fore; yet my poor wife shed many a tear over my 
 pillow, she being then, as she has ever been, my chief 
 consolation." Imer's troupe had gone to Florence 
 
 
72 GOLDONI 
 
 meanwhile, so when he had recovered, Goldoni set 
 out for Venice with his wife. "Oh, heavens!" he 
 exclaims, "what tears were shed! What a cruel part- 
 ing for my wife! All at once she left her father, 
 mother, brothers, sisters, uncles, and aunts . . . but 
 she went with her husband." 
 
 At Venice, the young couple "disembarked in the 
 parish of Santa Maria Mater Domini, at a house by 
 the bridge of the same name," and there they dwelt 
 "in perfect accord," with Goldoni's mother and aunt, 
 "all being peace and harmony," and our dramatist 
 "the happiest man in the world." Although he owed 
 these blessings "to his virtuous consort," the house at 
 Santa Maria Mater Domini proved too small for 
 even so amiable a family; therefore he soon rented 
 "one of the new houses of the Degna in the street 
 called La Salizada a San Lio," where he dwelt hap- 
 pily with good Nicoletta. 12 
 
 She was a model wife, whose fine character was 
 thoroughly appreciated by her humoursome lord, for 
 in dedicating one of his comedies 13 to her father, 
 after twenty-one years of wedded life, he pays her 
 this fervent tribute : 
 
 Great is my obligation to you, since you could not have given 
 me a greater treasure than you did in your exemplary daughter, my 
 beloved consort. . . . She has ever been such a good companion 
 that during the many years we have passed together, it has never 
 occurred to me, either on account of domestic differences, or angry 
 
 12 Preface to Vol. XV, Pasquali edition. 
 
 13 La Donna sola, 1757. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 73 
 
 sentiment, to regret our union. She has known how to bear 
 tranquilly with me the hostile blows of fortune, content with every 
 humble condition, and desirous only of the peace of which she has 
 always been the promoter and discreet custodian. . . . She is very 
 fond of politeness and neatness, and the mortal enemy of pomp 
 and ambition; and combining as she does so thoroughly in her- 
 self both becoming generosity and careful economy, she has, with- 
 out exciting my too easy-going tastes, provided me, day by day, 
 with perceptible comforts. 
 
 During the first four years of Goldoni's married 
 life (1736-1740), little happened to ruffle its seren- 
 ity. He lived tranquilly in Venice with Nicoletta, 
 wrote several pieces for Imer's troupe, 14 and his do- 
 mestic happiness was undisturbed by the allurements 
 of soubrettes. Yet he began to be inconstant to Mel- 
 pomene, the success of The Man of the World 
 (L'Uomo di mondo] , a comedy he wrote to provide 
 Francesco Collinetti, an admirable comedian of 
 Imer's company, with a part, convincing him that 
 "comedy was his bent, and that good comedy should 
 be his aim." He wrote popular farces, too, to fit the 
 talents of Antonio Sacchi, a harlequin of interna- 
 tional repute, so gradually Thalia enticed him to- 
 ward her shrine during those serene days. 
 
 The tranquillity of his life came to an end, 
 however, when in December, 1740, through the 
 influence of his wife's family, he was gazetted as 
 
 ^Rinaldo di Montalbano; Enrico re di Sicilia; Lucrezia romana in 
 Constantinopoli; I'Uomo di mondo, o El Cortesan venezian; Gustavo 
 primo, re di Svezia; II Prodigo; Le Trendadue disgrazie d'Arlecchino; 
 Cento e quattro accidenti in una notta, o la notta critica; Oronte re de' 
 Sciti, and five drammi giocosi per musica. 
 
 
74 GOLDONI 
 
 Genoese consul in Venice, an appointment which 
 he accepted "with gratitude and respect," without 
 asking the amount of his salary. This was "an- 
 other of my follies," he 'laments, "for which I paid 
 dearly." After increasing his "establishment, his ta- 
 ble, and his retinue," in accordance with the dignity 
 of his office, he learned that his consulship was un- 
 salaried, though the fees netted him a small income. 
 Moreover, in his official capacity, he became involved 
 in financial difficulties. On behalf of his govern- 
 ment, he had seized, it appears, some valuable goods, 
 found in the possession of a man who had defrauded 
 the Genoese Republic, and although he conducted the 
 affair with "infinite honour" to himself, he entrusted 
 the proceeds of the public sale of these goods to a 
 broker, who pawned them to a Jew, Goldoni's father- 
 in-law being obliged to make good the amount out of 
 the unpaid portion of his daughter's dowry. 
 
 While dealing with these shady financiers, he wrote 
 The Bankruptcy (La Bancarotta], a comedy that 
 angered the sharpers of the business world; there- 
 fore, when he became implicated in a private 
 financial transaction, he was widely accused of mis- 
 appropriating six hundred ducats, though he had "no 
 difficulty," he asserts, "in proving the contrary." To 
 add to his troubles, war was declared (1742) by 
 France and Spain against Austria, 15 and as the Duke 
 
 15 The War of the Austrian Succession, during which Austria and Sar- 
 dinia had become allies. Modena had been invaded in June, 1742, and 
 on the 5th of July, the King of Sardinia, and not the Duke of Modena, 
 as Goldoni states, had sequestered the revenues of the ducal bank. Her- 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 75 
 
 of Modena became involved in it, "to support the 
 expenses of his army, he stopped the payment of in- 
 terest on funds in the ducal bank at Modena." The 
 residue of Goldoni's small inheritance being invested 
 in these funds, he was unable to maintain his posi- 
 tion in society; therefore, he resolved to set out for 
 Modena, for "the purpose of obtaining money at all 
 hazard." Being an official, he was forced to wait 
 until the Genoese government would grant him a 
 leave of absence. Meanwhile, Anna Baccherini, a 
 married soubrette, crossed his path, "eager to display 
 her pretty face." 
 
 To provide this lady with a vehicle suitable to her 
 talents and charms, he wrote The Clever Woman (La 
 Donna di garbo). This play marks a turning-point 
 in his career, but as its dramatic attributes are con- 
 sidered in another chapter, it is only necessary to note 
 here that La Baccherini died before Goldoni could 
 enjoy the pleasure of seeing her in the title-role. 
 
 "What a blow for me!" he exclaims. "It was not 
 a lover who bewailed his mistress, but an author who 
 mourned for his favourite actress. My wife, who 
 saw me in grief, was sensible enough to share it." 
 He acknowledges, moreover, that he and La Bac- 
 cherini had "need of each other," and that "united 
 
 mann von Lohner says, however (Memoir es de M. Goldoni) t that "if 
 Goldoni, while giving an inkling of the diplomatic history of his time, 
 distorts some particulars, it may be believed that he did so through a 
 certain prudence in speaking of political matters and princes, which will 
 not surprise anyone familiar with the literary customs of Europe before 
 the French Revolution." 
 
76 GOLDONI 
 
 in friendship," he "worked for her glory while she 
 dispelled his troubles." Good Nicoletta, therefore, 
 was a sensible wife for a dramatist with the vaga- 
 bondizing instinct, since she could not have been en- 
 tirely blind to this and the many other amours into 
 which her temperamental husband was lured by am- 
 bitious soubrettes. 
 
 Meanwhile Goldoni's worthless brother, Gian 
 Paolo, shorn once more of military rank, came to 
 abide with him and to introduce beneath his roof a 
 military adventurer who choused our dramatist out 
 of the few livres that remained to him. This rogue, 
 a Ragusan captain "who had more the appearance of 
 a courtier than a soldier," was polite to the ladies, 
 drank his host's wine, and told stories of his own 
 daring. He was raising a regiment, he said, for for- 
 eign service in which Gian Paolo was to have a cap- 
 taincy, and glibly he prevailed upon Goldoni to 
 accept the post of auditor-general. Having found 
 his kindly host thus gullible, he induced him to cash 
 a draft he had forged on some German bankers for 
 six thousand livres, whereupon he decamped. "All 
 the Ragusan's dupes assembled in my house," says 
 his victim, "but in order to avoid the indignation of 
 the government and the ridicule of the public, we 
 were forced to stifle our charges." 
 
 Financially straitened by this loss, and despairing 
 of ever receiving from the Genoese government the 
 remuneration he had asked for his services, Gol- 
 doni made up his mind to leave Venice, his in- 
 
LOVE'S MESSENGER 
 
 Musco Corrzr 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 77 
 
 tention being, he says, to pass through Modena and 
 there provide himself with the means of continuing 
 his journey to Genoa, "in order to obtain in person 
 favour or justice." 16 Moreover, he was being ac- 
 cused, though apparently unjustly, of having appro- 
 priated a sum of money that had passed through his 
 hands, 17 so having received during the month of 
 March permission from the Genoese government to 
 leave Venice, he embarked during the summer of 
 1743 18 for the mainland with his wife, "sad, thought- 
 ful, and plunged in grief." A vagabond once more, 
 he endeavoured "to dispel regret for the past, 
 by the hope of better fortune for the future," 
 being animated in this time of trouble by the exam- 
 ple and advice of his good wife, who was "more 
 reasonable than he, her only care being to consider 
 him." 
 
 At Bologna, he tarried long enough to draw roy- 
 alties from the local managers for the use of three of 
 his comedies, and from there he went, on the advice 
 of a Thespian friend, to Rimini, where the Duke of 
 
 16 Preface to Vol. XVII, Pasquali edition. There is no record that he 
 reached Genoa, fortuitous events having apparently altered his plans. 
 
 17 Fifteen hundred ducats he had received under Imer's power of at- 
 torney from Francesco Maria Berio, the former's kinsman of Naples, and 
 it was believed that Goldoni had left Venice, still owing that sum to 
 Imer. "But," Goldoni adds, "I can give the lie to this shameful indignity 
 with two receipts, one from Messrs. Maruzzi Brothers in the sum of 620 
 ducats, and the other from Imer himself for the amount in full, less ex- 
 penses." (Pasquali edition, preface, vol. XVII.) 
 
 18 Goldoni says 1741, but as Hermann von Lohner points out, he is two 
 rears in error. The date Sept. i8th, given in the Memoirs, is also wrong, 
 
 :ording to Guido Mazzoni, and should be some time in June or July. 
 
78 GOLDONI 
 
 Modena had taken refuge with his Spanish allies. 
 He was presented to His Highness, but the moment 
 "he pronounced the words ducal bank and arrears," 
 the Duke coldly terminated the audience. Luckily, 
 there was a company of actors in Rimini, as well as 
 a brigadier in the Spanish service, who was such an 
 ardent lover of the stage, and particularly of Arlec- 
 chino's pranks, that he suggested to Goldoni the sub- 
 ject of a farce 19 in which the local actor of that part 
 might display his talents. 
 
 There was "a fresh and lively" actress in that com- 
 pany, too, named Angela Bonaldi, who u soon became 
 my companion," Goldoni confesses, "she being the 
 soubrette, and therefore my fate." Spanish auster- 
 ity reigned at Rimini, however, "there being no 
 gaming, no balls or women of suspicious character" ; 
 yet, although this town was "like a convent," he 
 managed to see now and then his "fair friend with 
 the Italian gaiety." 
 
 His pleasure was marred, however, by the advent 
 of his brother, bent upon raising another regiment. 
 This time, however, Goldoni warily declined the post 
 of auditor. When the Austrians threatened Rimini 
 (October, 1743), and the Spaniards retreated to 
 Pesaro, Gian Paolo, luckily, went with the latter. 
 Although relieved of his brother's presence, Goldoni 
 was in a state of "greater embarrassment than ever," 
 he being a citizen of Modena, as well as a consul of 
 Genoa, both of 'which countries were allies of the 
 
 19 Arlequin empereur dans la lune, a French farce adapted by Goldoni. 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 79 
 
 Spaniards. Fearful, therefore, that the Austrians 
 might treat him as a spy, he embarked with his wife 
 for Pesaro, but owing to the roughness of the sea, was 
 obliged to proceed from Cattolica by land, his serv- 
 ant being left behind with orders to follow with 
 the baggage. But the Austrians, on entering Cat- 
 tolica, sequestered it; thereupon, Goldoni, accom- 
 panied by good Nicoletta, set forth from Pesaro in a 
 carriage to reclaim it. When they descended by the 
 wayside to stretch their legs, the driver, alas, made 
 off with the carriage and they were left to proceed to 
 Cattolica on foot. Obliged to carry his wife across 
 a rushing torrent on his back, Goldoni accomplished 
 this feat with "inexpressible joy," while saying to 
 himself: "Omnia bona mea mecum porto" 
 
 When the unlucky pair finally reached Cattolica, 
 they were arrested as suspicious characters by an Aus- 
 trian outpost; but the officer in command proved a 
 friend in need, for he had seen Belisarius and The 
 Man of the World, and upon learning that Goldoni 
 was the author of these plays, he not only passed him 
 and his good wife through the lines, but ordered his 
 baggage to be returned to him, on the condition that 
 he take any road except that to Pesaro, whence he 
 had come. The next morning, he hired betimes a 
 cart in which he and Nicoletta journeyed to Rimini, 
 where they remained until the Austrians evacuated 
 that town. 
 
 During his sojourn at Rimini, Goldoni wrote a can- 
 tata, in honour of the wedding of Maria Theresa's 
 
8o GOLDONI 
 
 sister, which was sung on the evening of January 
 7th, 1744, the music being composed by a Neapoli- 
 tan musician named Francesco (Ciccio) Maggiore. 
 Both author and composer were liberally rewarded 
 by the Austrian commander, but Maggiore, who, 
 Goldoni assures us, "was by no means a fool," sug- 
 gested the hiring of a fine coach in which to make 
 the rounds of the town and its environs for the pur- 
 pose of presenting copies of the cantata to the field 
 officers of the regiments composing the garrison, a 
 device whereby the collaborators collected "a purse 
 full of Venetian sequins, Spanish pistoles, and Port- 
 uguese quadruples, which they divided equally." 
 
 At Rimini, Goldoni's days passed blithely. "I had 
 money," he tells us, "nothing to do, and I was happy." 
 The Austrians were not austere, like the Spaniards, 
 so there were "balls, concerts, public games, brilliant 
 assemblies, and ladies of gallantry"; moreover, La 
 Bonaldi, the soubrette who had cheered him during 
 the sombre days of the Spanish occupation, was still 
 in Rimini. Though he "loved his wife," he assures 
 us, and "shared his pleasures with her," good Nico- 
 letta refused to accompany him on his visits to La 
 Bonaldi, "that actress being not to her taste," as may 
 readily be imagined. 
 
 The Austrian officers wished opera during the 
 carnival; therefore, the comedians gave place to sing- 
 ers. Though he lost La Bonaldi by this change, 
 Goldoni benefited materially thereby, for the lieu- 
 tenant-general, who inaugurated this new diversion, 
 
THE VAGABONDIZING INSTINCT 81 
 
 made him its director, and treated him so generously 
 that he "enjoyed more profits than he had any right 
 to expect." This delectable winter came to an end, 
 however, when the Austrians, on evacuating Rimini 
 (March, 1744), left Goldoni behind them in the 
 happy state he thus describes : 
 
 I was free, and the master of my inclinations, and having suf- 
 ficient money, I executed a plan I had long cherished. I wished 
 to see Tuscany; I wished to wander through it, and live there for 
 some time, for I needed to familiarize myself with the Florentines 
 and Siennese, who are the living texts of pure Italian. I ap- 
 prised my wife of my plan, and as I pointed out to her that this 
 route brought us nearer to Genoa, she appeared satisfied ; therefore, 
 we decided on a trip to Florence. 
 
 He had received, meanwhile, a hint from the Gen- 
 oese government that his resignation as consul would 
 be acceptable, so he tendered it gladly; then set forth 
 from Rimini, with good Nicoletta, to traverse the 
 Apennines on horseback. He was thirty-seven years 
 old; his life thus far had been a comedy as merry 
 and varied as any he penned in later years; yet he 
 was destined to pass four unmomentous years in Tus- 
 cany before he became wedded to comedy. He had 
 been groping in tragic darkness, yet before misfor- 
 tune had exiled him from his beloved Venice, he 
 had written two or three comedies through which 
 the true light of his genius shone. When he re- 
 turned, four years later, with the troupe of an actor 
 named Medebac, play-writing became a divine call 
 instead of the mere avocation it had been theretofore. 
 
82 GOLDONI 
 
 He began, then, the creation of his naturalistic com- 
 edy of Italian manners by attacking the Gommedia 
 dell' arte, an unwritten form of comedy that had 
 reigned merrily in Italy for generations. 
 
 An acquaintance with the Gommedia delV arte be- 
 ing necessary for a clear understanding of his works, 
 he shall be left for the present, journeying peacefully 
 with his good wife across the Apennines, while that 
 unique dramatic form is considered, as well as the 
 tragedies, comedies, and operas he had written during 
 the years when his life had been a merry comedy, 
 and the vagabondizing instinct strong upon him. 
 
Ill 
 
 THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 
 
 DURING the Renaissance Italy awoke to il- 
 lumine a world long darkened ; yet the light 
 shed by her poetry and painting, her sculp- 
 ture and music, is so dazzling that we are likely to 
 be blinded to the fact that, while these sister arts 
 arose, the drama did little more than rub her drowsy 
 eyes. Indeed, the artists and scholars of the Renais- 
 sance failed to realize, to quote Moliere, that "the 
 dramatic rule of all rules is to please" ; nor did they 
 understand that what pleases one age is likely to 
 weary another. The drama is the most democratic, 
 the most contemporary of the arts ; its appeal is made 
 directly to living people not to one class, but to all; 
 not to those yet to come, but to those present. In 
 brief, the dramatist who would not see his benches 
 empty must tell his audience a story it can under- 
 stand without the aid of a book of rules. 
 
 Forgetting that the times had changed since an en- 
 tire tragic trilogy and a satire had been the daily 
 program at the Dionysiac spring festivals of Ath- 
 ens, the men of the Renaissance, in love with the aus- 
 tere beauty of classic tragedy, plunged ardently into 
 the work of tragedy writing, mindful only of the lit- 
 
 83 
 
84 GOLDONI 
 
 erary merits of the task. Nor did they study the 
 Greek masters at first hand. The rigid closet plays 
 of Seneca, rather than the august drama of Sopho- 
 cles, became their model. Moreover, the critics 
 of the day Giraldi, Trissino, Castelvetro, Nores, 
 and Ingegneri in their ardour to revive the past, 
 evolved rules which, when not of their own making, 
 were at best Aristotle misunderstood or Horace mis- 
 read. 
 
 That a play must have a single action, completed 
 in a single day, and developed in a single place, was 
 the hard and fast dogma* they imposed, not only on 
 themselves, but wherever the new learning took root. 
 The result was a drama turgidly exotic, which throve 
 just so long as the pedants sprinkled it with lore 
 within the palaces of the great, but which withered 
 and died the moment it was exposed to the scorching 
 blast of popular opinion. 
 
 A reason less apparent than mere pedantry for the 
 failure of the Renaissance to produce a worthy writ- 
 ten drama, lies in its own fawning spirit its tradition 
 of patronage by liberal Ippolitos, sumptuous Leos, 
 magnificent Lorenzos, and the like. Since the thea- 
 tre, as a permanent place of public amusement with 
 entrance receipts and consequent royalties, did not 
 yet exist, the dramatist who would not starve must 
 take his place among the flatterers, knights, pages, 
 fools, poets, and scholars of the antechamber; and 
 when my lord of Ferrara or of Urbino deigned to 
 pass that way and smile, draw a tragedy from beneath 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 85 
 
 his well-worn cloak for use on a festal day. When 
 that auspicious moment came, the lucky author's 
 stage was set in the cortlle of his patron's palace. 
 Raphael, even, might paint the curtains that enclosed 
 it, as he once did for the stage of Ariosto or, if not 
 he, then Mantegna, who had a liking for the task. 
 The audience was composed of precious ladies with 
 awe for phrasing, pedants with their ears astrain for 
 error; or jealous courtiers, who were watching for 
 the offensive word that might serve to confine the 
 literary upstart favoured by their lord behind the 
 seven series of iron bars guarding the dungeon below 
 that very courtyard where lutes tinkled sweetly and 
 fountains plashed in an atmosphere of perfumed love- 
 liness. No democratic drama could thrive in such 
 a cradle ; and as the drama is essentially democratic, 
 that of the Renaissance could not reach maturity in 
 these surroundings. 
 
 When banished from the churches, the sacred 
 drama of the middle ages, gradually secularized in 
 Italy, as in western Europe, succumbed in time to the 
 loud merriment of popular farces and the gloomy 
 fustian of didactic tragedy. However, the chron- 
 icle play did not arise from its embers as the spark 
 of a national drama. An occasional sporadic at- 
 tempt was made in this direction, as in the Orpheus 
 (Orfeo) of Poliziano, a profane play modelled upon 
 the sacred drama, yet with pagan gods instead of the 
 Italian heroes who might have nationalized it. The 
 disunion of the Italian states hindered the formation 
 
86 GOLDONI 
 
 of such a drama as arose in England and Spain. 
 There was no single capital where the dramatist 
 might win the favour of a genuine monarch, no dra- 
 matic centre where national deeds might be ap- 
 plauded by the patriotic veterans of triumphant wars. 
 Instead of these inspiriting elements there were petty 
 princes, each with a dilettante court, and condottieri 
 whose meretricious arms were at the disposal of the 
 highest bidder. There was need for an Alfieri to 
 preach nationalism on the stage, but he did not step 
 forth. In his place stood Torquato Tasso with his 
 Torrumond (Torrismondo) a weak CEdipus, a fac- 
 titious Tristan, whose character is quite as remote 
 from Italian nationalism as the Greece which inspired 
 him is from Norway, the scene of his promising but 
 unfulfilled story. 
 
 There were tragedies a-plenty then, as well as 
 pedants to write them: Trissino with his Sophonlsba 
 (Sofonisba), Rucellai with his Rosamond (Ros- 
 munda), and the like; all imitated from the classics 
 and laboriously constructed according to the rules 
 all as thoroughly unnational as their names. There 
 were the pastoral dramas, too ; false and conventional, 
 with Tasso's Aminta as their masterpiece. Only in 
 comedy did the dramatists of the Renaissance sound 
 even the faintest note of nationalism ; yet in this field 
 they were again servile imitators. Plautus and Ter- 
 ence were rewritten by them, just as Menander had . 
 been rewritten by these able Romans themselves, 
 though almost invariably without the felicity of these 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 87 
 
 last in adopting foreign characters to home condi- 
 tions. The written comedy of the Renaissance the 
 Commedia erudlta as it is called to distinguish it 
 from the extemporized comedy, or Commedia dell 9 
 arte brought forth a handful of writers partially en- 
 dowed with the comedy sense Bruno, Aretino, Bib- 
 biena, Ariosto, and Machiavelli only the last of 
 whom fared beyond-the dramatic foot-hills. In The 
 Mandrake (La Mandragola) of Machiavelli the 
 moral corruption of the age is painted vivaciously, 
 truthfully, and artistically, albeit lewdly; yet, a sin- 
 gle obscene comedy, even though it be simple, nat- 
 ural, and truthful, cannot absolve the Renaissance 
 from the charge of having brought forth no written 
 drama, national in spirit or original in character. 
 Two centuries later Goldoni fulfilled that task; until 
 his day, the written comedy of Italy remained in the 
 womb of time. 
 
 Upon the word "written" particular stress has been 
 laid, because an unheralded, unrecognized national 
 comedy arose during the Renaissance a comedy 
 scorned by the scholars vainly imitating the ancients 
 and framing dramatic rules, yet sufficiently vital to 
 leave its imprint not only upon the drama of Italy, 
 but upon that of the rest of Europe as well the 
 Commedia dell' arte, destined to dethrone the an- 
 cients, and to inspire through its sprightly technic the 
 modern drama. 
 
 Commedia dell' arte all' improvviso, or profes- 
 sional improvised comedy, is the full name of this 
 
88 GOLDONI 
 
 dramatic form, the word arte being used in the sense 
 of craft or guild, to indicate that this species of com- 
 edy was acted by professional players. Occasionally, 
 however, as at the Bavarian court in 1568, amateurs 
 attempted the difficult art of improvisation, though 
 they usually confined their halting talents to the more 
 easily sustained written comedy. However, the word 
 arte has by some writers been held to signify "craft," 
 in the sense that the first performances of commedie 
 dell* arte were given upon festal days by troupes com- 
 posed of craftsmen or artisans performances similar 
 to the trials of Pyramus and Thisbe, as interpreted 
 by Bottom the weaver, Snug the joiner, and Quince 
 the carpenter. Other names for this variety of com- 
 edy, each suggestive of its improvisated character, are 
 Commedia improvvisa, Commedia non iscritta, and 
 Corn-media a soggetto, while, owing to the leathern 
 masks worn by its buffoons, it has sometimes been 
 called Commedia a maschera, or Mask Comedy. In 
 order that the reader may not be called upon to mas- 
 ter its Italian terminology, this sort of comedy, so 
 pertinent to Goldoni's work, will be called henceforth 
 the Improvised Comedy, to distinguish it from the 
 Erudite Comedy of the renaissance poets. 
 
 "We do not know, nor is it easy to ascertain, the 
 time when this comedy was born," says Dr. Michele 
 Scherillo in the preface to his suggestive brochure on 
 the subject; 1 "its most splendid blossoming, how- 
 ever, was in the second half of the sixteenth century, 
 
 1 La Commedia dell' arte in Italia. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 89 
 
 in the seventeenth, and in the eighteenth. The man 
 who took upon himself the mission of dethroning it 
 was Carlo Goldoni, who, for the masks, the constant 
 types, the buffooneries, and the intrigues of this thor- 
 oughly national and spontaneous comedy, substituted 
 a truer, though less original comedy of middle-class 
 manners. As champions of the cause of Improvised 
 Comedy a critic and an artist of unquestioned prowess 
 arose: Giuseppe Baretti and Carlo Gozzi attacked 
 Goldoni as the defamer of the country's glory, but 
 in spite of the Frusta and the Fiabe, the Goldonian 
 reform triumphed, and the improvised mask comedy 
 lost ground on all hands, because it was worn out and 
 decrepit." 
 
 In order to follow the story of Goldoni's theatrical 
 reform and the critical warfare it aroused, the nature 
 of Improvised Comedy must be understood. Like 
 the drama of the Greeks, its beginnings were of the 
 humblest; though it did not bloom until the six- 
 teenth century, its seeds were already sown when the 
 renaissance of art and letters began. The maskers, 
 merry-andrews, and buffoons, against whom the voice 
 of the Church had been thundering through the mid- 
 dle ages, the very mimes whose antics had profaned 
 the sacred drama -and whom the scholars of the Re- 
 naissance looked indulgently down upon, emerged 
 from the terrifying shadow of ecclesiasticism to jin- 
 gle their bells and beat their bladders defiantly, once 
 the strictures of the clergy were relaxed, some to 
 montar In banco, or mount the bench in the market 
 
90 GOLDONI 
 
 place as mountebanks, others to buff are, or jest, before 
 noble patrons, as buffoons. 
 
 At the time the Improvised Comedy attained a 
 form distinct from the mere pranks of clowns, society, 
 humanistically mad since Petrarch's day, had begun 
 to acknowledge its failure to make other than a sham 
 Greece of itself; meanwhile, the common people, 
 flocking to the booths at the fairs, gave hearty laugh- 
 ter to the drolleries there broad farces outlined by 
 the cleverest fellow in the troupe and acted by him- 
 self and mates, with dialogues extemporized for the 
 occasion. The livelihood of these mountebanks was 
 found in the coppers of the multitude ; their task was 
 to make the populace laugh. To be so ready of wit 
 that the tongue could not fail when a laugh was de- 
 manded, required a degree of dexterity no gawky am- 
 ateur, "awkward, embarrassed, stiff, without the skill 
 of moving gracefully or standing still," could possi- 
 bly attain ; hence the mountebank became a craftsman 
 skilled in his calling in a word, a professional actor. 
 He wafe a playv#r?ht, too, since he was the builder 
 of his dwn pltyS^ but not a play-writer, beoatfse only 
 the outline of his medium, the scenario, as it was 
 called, was reduced to written words. In this way 
 a popular drama arose at the vintage festivals and in 
 the market places. When it had grown to vigorous 
 youth, it absorbed the classic plots which the scholars 
 of the Renaissance had failed to popularize, and un- 
 folded them with its own Italian characters. Arios- 
 to's The Disguised (I Suppositi), for instance, and 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 91 
 
 The Ghost Story (Mostellaria) of Plautus passed to 
 the stage of the Improvised Comedy, while from the 
 novelle of the time many a scenario was drawn. In- 
 deed, to quote Dr. Winifred Smith's scholarly mon- 
 ograph on the subject: 2 
 
 In so confused a situation no one reason for the origin of the 
 Commedia dell' arte can be singled out as decisive, though it is per- 
 fectly easy to see that its peculiarities sprang from tenacious and by 
 no means unique folk customs and that under academic super- 
 vision they were pruned and trained by the skilful hands of the 
 professional actors who later spread them broadcast over Europe. 
 
 In this way the popular comedy of the market 
 place became a specific and strongly marked dra- 
 matic type the Commedia delV arte, or Improvised 
 Comedy a lusty child of Thalia that eventually 
 smothered its puny sister, the Erudite Comedy, to rule 
 supreme in Italy until Goldoni dethroned it with his 
 naturalistic comedies of Venetian life. 
 
 Throughout the two hundred and fifty years of its 
 vogue, the dialogue of the Improvised Comedy re- 
 mained largely unwritten; only a scenario, or as it 
 was originally called, a soggetto, being given to the 
 actors, a canevas, or canvas, as it was termed in 
 France (in England a plat], on which to embroider 
 spontaneous humour. When a scenario had become 
 popular, however, and the actors had repeated their 
 parts so often that their extemporized lines became 
 fixed in their minds a true survival, in this case, of 
 the fittest the dialogue was partially written in. 
 
 2 The Commedia dell' Arte, A Study in Italian Popular Comedy. 
 
92 GOLDONI 
 
 Among the writers of scenari, Niccolo Secchi and 
 Niccolo Barbieri are notable as having supplied plots 
 to Moliere, while Flaminio Scala's collection of 
 fifty plays in outline, 3 published in 1611, is the most 
 varied and complete collection of scenari that sur- 
 vives, his extravaganzas being the forerunners of 
 Carlo Gozzi's fiabe teatrali both in scenic and fan- 
 tastic appeal. Indeed, the methods of the Impro- 
 vised Comedy were by no means confined to the 
 lighter mediums, but were used in the construction 
 of serious and romantic drama as well, known as 
 royal work (opera reale) , heroic work (opera eroica) , 
 or mixed work (opera mista) , in the last of which the 
 serious and lighter elements commingled. The ex- 
 temporized serious drama was too sentimentally ab- 
 surd, however, too silly a jumble of history and 
 pathos, to entitle it to much consideration; yet occa- 
 sionally a scenario of the kind survives, as in the case 
 of The Guest of Stone (II Convltato di pietra) 
 an extemporized interpretation of Tirso de Molina's 
 Spanish play The Scoffer of Seville (El Burlador 
 de Sevilla). Far more than the Spanish original 
 or even than Moliere's Don Juan has the Italian 
 scenario supplied the story for Mozart's opera of 
 Don Giovanni, its lazzi or buffooneries being almost 
 identical with those made familiar by Leporello. 
 
 The lazzi form a thoroughly distinctive feature of 
 the Improvised Comedy. This word, meaning 
 
 3 // Teatro delle favole rappresentative, overo la ricreatione comica, 
 boscareccia e tragica, etc. (sic.). 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 93 
 
 "knots" (lazzi being the Lombardian expression for 
 the Tuscan lacci), is used to denote the scenes 
 wherein the buffoons interrupt the story with irre- 
 levant pranks scenes of a kind which Shakespeare 
 frequently wrote for his clowns, in order to relieve the 
 tensity of his plots, and which in England were called 
 "jigs." "We give the name lazzi/' says Luigi Ric- 
 coboni, 4 "to the sallies or by-play with which the 
 harlequins, or other mask actors, interrupt a scene in 
 progress it may be by expressions of astonishment 
 or terror, or by humorous extravagances foreign to 
 the matter in hand." A lazzo had little or nothing 
 to do with the action of the play and sometimes told 
 a waggish story of its own. The interruptions by the 
 comedians of a modern opera bouffe with drolleries 
 having no possible bearing on the story are lazzi; 
 although, instead of occasionally "gagging" the au- 
 thor's lines for laughs in the manner of the modern 
 funny man, the buffoons of the Improvised Comedy 
 were sent upon the stage with their own spontaneity 
 as the sole peg on which to hang their humour. 
 
 Another distinctive element of the Improvised 
 Comedy was the doti or dowries, composed of mem- 
 orized passages used to emphasize vital points of the 
 story. Each actor had his zibaldone, too, a medley 
 of phrases subdivided into various classifications, 
 which, if appropriately interpolated, ensured vocifer- 
 ous applause. To be more specific, the lazzi were 
 the extemporized jests of the buffoons; the doti the 
 
 *Histoire de I'ancien theatre italien. 
 
94 GOLDONI 
 
 memorized lines necessary for elucidating a particu- 
 lar play; the zibaldone an actor's stock of speeches 
 used in any play as opportunity arose. 
 
 The buffoons, with their sallies of dialect wit, were 
 adept in the art of extemporizing; whereas the actors 
 playing Tuscan characters, the lovers and serious- 
 minded persons of the play, so called because they 
 did not speak in dialect, had such frequent recourse to 
 their zibaldone, that it eventually became customary 
 to write down the serious scenes, while leaving the 
 lazzi to be extemporized. This latter feature of the 
 Improvised Comedy, therefore, was the last element 
 to survive in improvisation. Originally, however, 
 the task of the playwright was merely to outline the 
 scenes of his play, and indicate the exits and en- 
 trances, together with the length of time that might 
 be allotted a love scene or a lazzo. The actors were 
 enjoined to learn where the scene was laid, so as not 
 to speak of Rome if Naples were intended, and above 
 all, to be sure of the names of the characters in the 
 play, a father naturally being required to know the 
 name of his son, a lover that of his mistress. This 
 being accomplished, the scenario was posted in the 
 wings where all might consult it. To the actor's wit 
 and the ingenuity of the corago, or stage manager, 
 was left the devising of the dialogue and stage busi- 
 ness. Such was a scenario a canvas on which a play 
 was to be embroidered. 
 
 Dialogue had dominated the religious plays; ac- 
 tion governed the extemporized comedies. They 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 95 
 
 were quick in movement and replete in stage busi- 
 ness, words being subordinated to action, as indeed 
 they should be; a dramatic story, if well constructed, 
 being actable in pantomime. Moreover, upon the 
 dexterity of the actor, as much as upon the cleverness 
 of the playwright, rested the success of an improvised 
 comedy. "To a comedian who* depends upon impro- 
 visation," says Riccoboni, "face, memory, voice, and 
 sentiment are not enough. If he would distinguish 
 himself, he must possess a lively and fertile imagina- 
 tion, a great facility in expression; he must master 
 the subtleties of the language, too, and have at his 
 disposal a full knowledge of all that is required for 
 the different situations in which his role places 
 him." 5 
 
 Although the buffoons of the Improvised Comedy / 
 were adroit to a degree that would shame a modern ^ 
 funny man, their sprightly wit was far from cleanly 
 and sometimes trespassed too far upon the little de- 
 cency left to their dissolute age; for instance, at Mi- 
 lan, in 1583, the performances of a certain Adriano 
 Valerini were interrupted by the governor's orders, 
 and were allowed to be continued only after the 
 srenari of his plays had been examined by the arch- 
 bishop of Milan and nothing reprehensible found 
 therein; yet, in spite of this censorship, Valerini and 
 his buffoons might interpolate in their lazzi obscenity 
 and even sedition, and if haled before the authorities, 
 show their harmless scenari as proof of their inno- 
 
 5 Op. cit. 
 
96 GOLDONI 
 
 cence. Indeed, the flexibility of the Improvised 
 Comedy made it an efficient patriotic implement dur- 
 ing the centuries when Italy was languishing under 
 foreign tyrants, an actor's extemporized words hav- 
 ing frequently a sting of bitter hate, which was care- 
 fully tempered when officials of a despised alien gov- 
 ernment were present. 6 
 
 That this patriotism, alas! was contaminated by 
 many vices is evidenced by authors of that day. 
 Niccolo Barbieri, himself an actor, in his apology 
 for the dramatic profession, reluctantly admits that 
 the sins an actor may commit while acting are "to 
 praise vice, speak with unbounded license, make ges- 
 tures so evil that they excite the spectators to wanton- 
 ness, deride sacred objects, exhibit holy men and 
 women in the story, act during Lent as if by mistake, 
 pronounce blasphemies, introduce noted cases that 
 may dishonour families, make women appear with 
 their bodies partly naked, etc., etc." 7 "It may be 
 said that the comic stage is little else than a shameful 
 school of unchastity and deceit," adds Alessandro Tas- 
 soni, another writer of the period; a charge corrob- 
 orated by the equally condemnatory words of 
 Tommaso Garzoni, to the effect that "the stage of 
 such a generation of men was a school of impurity, 
 excess, cunning, and rascality." 
 
 Of the histrionic vagabondage of the time the last 
 named writer, a jurisconsult of the sixteenth century 
 
 6 During the Roman empire it was the habit of the Atellanae players 
 to satirize the ruling classes, even the Emperor not being exempt. 
 
 7 La Supplica, etc. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 97 
 
 with an exceedingly human pen, draws this droll 
 picture: 
 
 When comedians enter a town, they at once make it known with 
 their drum that my lords the actors have arrived. Dressed as a 
 man and with sword in hand, the leading lady, mustering the peo- 
 ple, bids them welcome at a comedy, a tragedy, or a pastoral to be 
 enacted in the town hall or the Pilgrim's Inn. Adoring novelties, 
 by nature curious, the common herd, shelling out its coppers, 
 hastens to fill the room arranged for the performance. Here is a 
 temporary stage, a scene done in charcoal with scant taste. A pre- 
 liminary concert of asses and rakes is heard, then the charlatan's 
 prologue, a thundering as rough as Fra Stoppino's voice, gestures 
 as hateful as the plague, interludes deserving to be spitted a thou- 
 sand times. The magnifico is not worth a copper; the zany is a 
 goose; the graziano sputters his words; the stupid go-between is 
 tiresome; the lover waves his arms madly with every speech he 
 utters; the Spanish villain offers nothing to the entertainment un- 
 less it be "mi vida" and "ml corazon" ; the pedant shies at Tus- 
 can words continually; the burattino's only gesture is to put on 
 and take off his cap; while the leading lady, stupid above all in 
 her diction, dull in her elocution, drowsy in her gestures, is a per- 
 petual foe of the graces and holds a mortal enmity to beauty. 8 
 
 In this sprightly description of the trials and va- 
 garies of an Italian theatrical troupe of the sixteenth 
 century, several features are to be noted as pertinent. 
 The performance, it will be seen, was given upon a 
 stage erected in a room, not on an open-air stage in the 
 market place, of the sort upon which the Improvised 
 Comedy was originally presented. Scenery was 
 used, too, instead of the back curtains seen in early 
 prints of Italian dramatic performances, as well as 
 in Callot's spirited drawings of the characters which 
 
 8 La Piazza universale di tutte le profession del mondo. 
 
98 GOLDONI 
 
 appeared in the Improvised Comedy. Indeed, it is 
 none too generally known that theatres with circular 
 or elliptical auditoriums, rising tiers of seats, aisles 
 and exits, and stages enclosed by painted scenery 
 drawn in perspective, were first built in Italy. The 
 Elizabethan theatre, open to the sky, was but remotely 
 related to the modern playhouse, and like the Span- 
 ish theatre retained the characteristics of an inn-yard. 
 The Hotel de Bourgogne, built in 1548 on the site 
 of the ancient palace of that name, had a flat floor 
 (parterre] without seats, and a stage with stationary 
 scenery (decors simultanes) similar to the mansions 
 used for the religious drama. Richelieu's theatre in 
 the Palais Cardinal, which more nearly approached 
 our modern theatres in equipment and design, was not 
 inaugurated until 1641, over fifty years after the open- 
 ing of Palladio's famous Teatro Olimpico at Vicenza 
 a theatre essentially like modern playhouses in 
 design, and having a proscenium and elaborate 
 painted scenery 9 enclosing the entire stage. More- 
 over, nearly a century before the Teatro Olimpico was 
 built, a theatre was erected in Rome during the pon- 
 tificate of Sixtus IV; and in 1486 Duke Ercole I 
 
 9 Though begun by Palladio in 1579, the Teatro Olimpico was not 
 finished until 1584, four years after his death. Previously, in 1565, ac- 
 cording to Pompeo Molmenti (La Storia di Venezia nella vita privata), 
 this great architect had built at Venice "in the vestibule of the monastery 
 of Santa Maria della Carita, a wooden amphitheatre for use as a coli- 
 seum, with possibly the distribution and forms imitated from the Roman 
 models which he adopted in the designs for the Teatro Olimpico at 
 Vicenza." In 1588 Scamozzi built another pseudo-classical theatre at 
 Sabbioneta. Moreover temporary stages were frequently erected in 
 palaces for special performances. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 99 
 
 built "a magnificent theatre" in Ferrara, while in the 
 first decade of the sixteenth century Bramante con- 
 structed in the court of the Vatican a theatre modelled 
 after that of the ancients. 10 
 
 The leading lady in her male attire, of whom Gar- 
 zoni speaks, is another notable feature of the Italian 
 stage. On rare occasions women performed as ama- 
 teurs in the mystery and miracle plays, but to the 
 stage of the Improvised Comedy the world owes the 
 introduction of professional actresses to replace 
 young men and boys in the female roles an innova- 
 tion Spain, owing probably to its contact with Italy 
 through conquest, is said to have been the first for- 
 eign country to adopt. Even in Moliere's day old 
 women's parts were still acted in France by men. 
 In England, although Coryat, the traveller, gives 
 hearsay evidence that actresses had appeared in Lon- 
 don in his day (1577-1617), French actresses were 
 pelted with rotten eggs and apples as late as 1629, 
 because their sex was considered an offence to theatri- 
 cal decency. Mrs. Coleman, the first English actress 
 did not appear upon the stage until 1656. The first 
 French actress of whom there is any record, is Marie 
 Fairet, who in 1545, "engaged herself to one L'Espe- 
 ronniere for a year to play in such manner that it will 
 please all who see her"; yet there is evidence that 
 two women appeared in public with Beolco in Italy 
 as early as 1529, at least to sing songs and madrigals. 
 
 10 Carlo Borghi, op. cit. ; and Dr. Karl Mantzius, A History of Thea- 
 trical Art, Vol. II. 
 
ioo GOLDONI 
 
 Actresses had become so common in Italy as early 
 as 1562, that a contemporary dubs one of them "a 
 beautiful comedienne who has enamoured many," 
 while the famous Isabella Andreini, born in that year, 
 was able to mount the boards at the age of sixteen 
 without hindrance. Indeed, the stage owes to Italy 
 not only the invention of scenery producing perspec- 
 tive illusion, but the introduction by means of the 
 wandering troupes playing improvised comedies, of 
 professional actors and actresses, and also theatrical 
 make-up all the ingredients which distinguish the 
 modern from the mediaeval drama being found on the 
 stage of the Improvised Comedy. 11 
 
 Many writers, it is true, have found in the religious 
 drama of the Middle Ages the source of the modern 
 drama, an error that must have arisen from ignorance 
 of the Improvised Comedy of Italy. Though the 
 Elizabethan drama and the Spanish classical drama 
 are the heirs of the religious drama, they are not mod- 
 ern in the sense that Moliere is modern. In the con- 
 struction of his plays, the great Frenchman adapted 
 the technic of the Improvised Comedy to his pur- 
 poses. His characters, too, are with a few notable 
 exceptions the characters of the Improvised Comedy, 
 naturalized as. Frenchmen. His plays written to be 
 performed in roofed theatres, on stages lighted ar- 
 tificially and adorned with scenery, may be given to- 
 day without the excision of a single line, and are in 
 
 11 Dr. Karl Mantzius, Vol. II, op. cit.; Dr. Winified Smith, op. cit. and 
 Italian and Elizabethan Comedy; T. Coryat, Coryat's Crudities; A. D'An- 
 cona, Origini del teatro italiano. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 101 
 
 every essential, except atmosphere, modern plays. 
 Surely this cannot be said of the plays of Shakespeare 
 or any Elizabethan dramatist! Indeed, the construc- 
 tion of the modern drama is derived from the Italian 
 Improvised Comedy far more than from either the 
 classic or Elizabethan drama. 
 
 Another vital feature of the Improvised Comedy 
 is the characterization, as exemplified by Pantalone, 
 Arlecchino, Colombina, Pulcinella, Scaramuccia, 
 Fracasso, and their merry mates. Bereft of Italian 
 softness, these names have become household words. 
 Pantaloon, Harlequin, and Columbine still frolic, 
 albeit in pantomime or masquerade; Punch, with his 
 hump and paunch, is both puppet and humorist; 
 Scaramouche has become a word in every tongue; 
 Capitaine Fracasse spells vagabond romance. Yet 
 the lean and slippery dolt and the spangled, tumbling 
 sprite, who have delighted so many generations of 
 English schoolboys, differ almost as greatly from 
 their Italian namesakes as does the Punch of the pup- 
 pet booth from roguish Pulcinella, true mirror of the 
 Neapolitan proletariat during its foreign bondage. 
 Made mute in France, these characters of the Im- 
 provised Comedy of Italy crossed to free England, 
 there to dwell unhampered; yet, being sun-loving 
 southerners, they withered and declined in the cold 
 northern air. They bear now but a faint semblance 
 of their former merry selves. 12 
 
 12 Some of the Italian buffoons joined the ranks of the French forains 
 and acted in the parades, when their theatre was temporarily closed in 
 
 
102 GOLDONI 
 
 They are called masks because the actors playing 
 them habitually concealed their features; yet, these 
 leathern face-coverings were but the outward marks 
 by which Arlecchino was distinguished from Panta- 
 lone, Brighella, and Pulcinella, their natures being 
 radically, ay, racially, distinct. Throughout cen- 
 turies of political strife and humanistic rivalry 
 in learning, each Italian city had retained its local 
 characteristics; when the Improvised Comedy was 
 brewed from the lees of lower-class buffoonery and 
 renaissance refinement, many a city added its own 
 spice to the popular decoction. / The elements which 
 fermented it, however, an unerring sense of humour, 
 a love of pleasure, freedom, and mirth, were common 
 to the Italic races and among their oldest possessions. 
 Wandering from town to town, their ranks recruited 
 in every province, the actors of the Improvised Com- 
 edy learned the distinguishing traits of the inhab- 
 itants of each locality, and evolved humorous mask 
 characters to typify certain cities or provinces, each 
 speaking the dialect of his birthplace. The senti- 
 mental characters, however, were performed by un- 
 masked actors speaking Italian. In the course of 
 time, the masks became separated into two distinct 
 groups, the one Venetian, or representative of the 
 
 1697. After the banishment of the Comedie Itallenne from the Hotel de 
 Bourgogne to the Theatre Favart, during the latter part of the eighteenth 
 century, French royal edicts for the protection of the Comedie Frangaise 
 and the Opera forbade the actors at other theatres to speak or sing their 
 lines, thus compelling both the Italians and the foralns to resort to panto- 
 mime. In this way, Pantaloon and Harlequin became pantomime char- 
 acters, and as such were introduced into English pantomime. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 103 
 
 north, the other Neapolitan, or southern; the north- 
 ern masks Pantalone, Brighella, Arlecchino, and 
 II Dottore having a firmer hold upon the affections 
 of the public than any of their southern kin, except 
 Pulcinella. They, too, as will be seen, played an im- 
 portant part in Goldoni's work. 
 
 Ring up the curtain! Let these masks step forth, 
 each in his traditional garb! First comes the good- 
 hearted Pantalone, the simple, yet shrewd Venetian 
 merchant, in his black mantle and the long, red trou- 
 sers that bear his name. On his head is a skull-cap, 
 red slippers adorn his toes, and though beards are no 
 longer the mode in Venice, to denote his ancient an- 
 tecedents, a pointed beard and long mustachios peep 
 from beneath the half-mask that hides his features. 
 "He is a merchant," Goldoni assures us, "because 
 Venice was in ancient times the state having the rich- 
 est and most extended commerce of any in Italy." 
 His costume is that of a Venetian merchant in An- 
 tonio's day; even in Goldoni's time his black robe 
 and woollen skull-cap were still to be seen upon the 
 Rialto. Pantalone de' Bisognosi is his full name; 
 sometimes he is called Babilonio, sometimes, as in 
 the barn-storming company described by Tommaso 
 Garzoni II Magnifico. His ectypes are Ubaldo, 
 Pandolfo, Oronte, Geronte, Cassandro, etc., several 
 of whom became the old men of Moliere's plays. 
 Pantalone is the first old man of the Improvised Com- 
 edy easy-going, honest, yet canny withal, a bachelor 
 sometimes, more often a widower with an only daugh- 
 
104 GOLDONI 
 
 ter on whom he dotes: in his prime he is a sensible 
 bourgeois, indulgent to his neighbours and homely 
 of wit; in his decadence the shuffling, senile fool of 
 the Christmas pantomime. To do him full justice, 
 his name should perhaps be written Piantaleone, or 
 Plant the Lion; for he was once a Venetian cittadino 
 of the sterling sort, who, in the days of Venetian 
 glory, planted the lioned banner of Saint Mark wher- 
 ever the Mediterranean breezes blew. 13 
 
 Venetian Pantalone having made his bow, let II 
 Dottore, the Bolognese, step before us in academic 
 gown and unstarched linen collar. In his belt is 
 stuck a handkerchief or perchance a curved knife ; 
 on his head is either a turban-like cap or a black felt 
 hat with an enormous brim. A half-mask hides his 
 nose and forehead, his cheek is smudged with red to 
 represent a birth-mark. "His dress," to quote Gol- 
 doni, "preserves the costume of the university and 
 bar of Bologna, which is almost the same to-day, 
 and the singular mask which covers his forehead and 
 nose was inspired by a birth-mark that defaced the 
 features of an early jurisconsult." II Dottore is the 
 second old man. His name is generally Graziano, 
 sometimes it is Baloardo Graziano, Prudentio, Hip- 
 
 13 Pantalone is said by Boerio, the compiler of a Venetian dialect glos- 
 sary, to be derived from Piantaleone; others give San Pantaleone as the 
 patron saint of all pantaloons. Yet, "he was quite certainly not chris- 
 tened after this saint," says Dr. Winifred Smith, "nor does he seem to- 
 have been named because he represents a Magnifico who planted the lion 
 of Venice in the Levant." However, as this painstaking writer upholds 
 no other origin of the name, not even "pantos-elemon," a modern deriva- 
 tion from the Greek, there seems to be no valid reason why Boerio's defi- 
 nition should not be accepted. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 105 
 
 pocrasso, or Balanzon Lombardo. Usually a lawyer, 
 occasionally a physician, astrologer, grammarian, or 
 philosopher, he makes a vast parade of learning, yet 
 never speaks without uttering some pompous absur- 
 dity law jargon, macaronic Latin, irrational syl- 
 logisms, or any preposterous pedantry an actor could 
 invent, all uttered in a broad Bolognese dialect. 
 Moliere's doctors are characters suggestive of II 
 Dottore of the Improvised Comedy; while Rossini's 
 opera, The Barber of Seville (II Barbiere dl Sivi- 
 glia), founded on Beaumarchais's comedy, preserves 
 both the first and the second old man of the Impro- 
 vised Comedy for modern audiences, Bartolo being 
 Pantalone unmasked and Don Basilio, II Dottore 
 without his birth-marked cheek. 
 
 Pantalone and II Dottore, in characteristics the 
 series of Latin comedy, were but half masks, taking 
 part in the story of the play as well as in the lazzl; 
 the full masks, appearing solely in the lazzi, being 
 Arlecchino and Brighella, the two Zanni ^ so called, 
 both hailing from the country-side of Bergamo and 
 both servants; the one gluttonous, credulous, light- 
 hearted, the other a clever, pimping rogue. 15 
 
 Let these rascals appear ! Spryly Arlecchino makes 
 
 14 The Zanni are in character so similar to the low comedy parts of 
 Latin comedy, that this term has been held to be a corruption of Sanniones. 
 A more likely origin of the word, however, is to consider Zanni a Ber- 
 gamask corruption of Giovanni, which becomes our English Zany, a 
 silly- John, the diminutive Zannarello being the French Sganarelle. 
 
 15 Truffaldino, Trivellino, Bagattino, Burattino, Mezzettino, and their 
 kind were but the stupid sons of Arlecchino; the rogue Brighella father- 
 ing a score of scamps as well, Pedrolino (Pierrot), Beltramo, Frontino, 
 
io6 GOLDONI 
 
 his entrance, for his nimbleness will turn him in the 
 course of time into a mute ballet dancer. Naively he 
 talks to the audience from beneath his black half- 
 mask, a silly, ingenuous fellow, ever being tricked 
 by Brighella, his roguish colleague, which makes the 
 comedians themselves dub him the second zany, 
 Brighella being the first. Sprightly Arlecchino 
 wears the tight-fitting suit of a country servant, 
 the rags and patches of which have been conven- 
 tionalized into variegated triangles of red, green, 
 and yellow. Whiskers bristle beneath his mask, un- 
 der his arm is a wooden sword, a small bag dangles 
 from his belt, on his head is a soft cap decked with 
 the hare's scut which Goldoni assures us was, even 
 in his day, the distinguishing adornment of a Ber- 
 gamask. Agile, compliant, credulous, yet gay, the 
 personality of this valet changes with that of each 
 actor playing him; and the same may be said of Bri- 
 ghella, Pantalone, II Dottore, and the other masks ; 
 for, just as various actors interpret Hamlet differ- 
 ently, so the buffoons of the Improvised Comedy, 
 while retaining fundamental characteristics, made 
 different dolts or rascals of their roles ; some imitative 
 of actors who had gone before, playing their parts 
 traditionally, others becoming creative artists. 
 
 But Arlecchino stands alone upon the stage. His 
 knavish mate Brighella awaits his cue. No vari- 
 
 Gradellino, and Bagolino being his children, or he the offspring of one 
 of them, this picaresque ancestry being somewhat difficult to trace. In 
 Figaro's veins Brighella's blood flows, too, other notable offspring being 
 Mascarille, Sganarelle, and Scapin. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 107 
 
 coloured patches mar the latter's sleekness. He is 
 the servant of some rich young rake and wears livery 
 consisting of a loose white shirt, trimmed with green 
 lace, and wide white trousers. A brown half-mask 
 hides his features, a dagger is in his belt, on his head 
 is a white cap, or bonnet plumed with red feathers, 
 which, in the course of time, becomes conical, just 
 as his tanned mask gives place to the white flour that 
 characterizes his brother Pedrolino's (Pierrot's) face, 
 a degenerate Brighella being our modern clown. 
 Like Arlecchino, his stupid farce-mate, Brighella is 
 a Bergamask, his tawny mask being intended, as Gol- 
 doni tells us, "to indicate the complexion of the in- 
 habitants of those high mountains, burned by the heat 
 of the sun." Roguish, cowardly, yet nimble-witted, 
 Brighella is ever ready to aid his libertine young 
 master or any one else who will tip him in any 
 devilry; in a word, he is the rascally valet who in 
 Spain was called the gracioso; yet who is best known 
 to us through our acquaintance with his offspring, the 
 Mascarille and Scapin of Moliere. ,^ 
 
 "The four masks of Italian comedy," Goldoni calls 
 these four characters. To have said the "four masks 
 of Venetian comedy" would have been more exact, 
 since at Naples, in the neighbourhood of ancient 
 Atella, the birthplace of buffoonery, other mask char- 
 acters sprang forth, quite as Italian as those of the 
 north. To Goldoni, who first saw these southern 
 masks at Rome when he was past fifty, Venice spelled 
 Italy ; yet in Pulcinella the Neapolitan, quite as much 
 
io8 GOLDONI 
 
 as in Arlecchino or Pantalone, live the characteristics 
 of a people, Francesco Cerlone a poor artisan of 
 Naples being the poet who made him the protago- 
 nist of his race. Without discussing whether or not 
 Pulcinella be descended from Maccus, the fool of 
 Atellan farce, or from Pulcinella dalle Carceri, a 
 grotesque patriot of the thirteenth century, it may 
 be said that his modern debut was made in the six- 
 teenth century in the white shirt and breeches of a 
 countryman of Acerra, his black mask, long nose, 
 hump, paunch, dagger, and truncheon being later ad- 
 ditions. Time, alas! has given him a foolish wife 
 and made him a mere puppet, though little more than 
 a century ago, in Cerlone's clever hand, he mirrored 
 a people and an age. 
 
 Other masks of the south are Coviello, the Cala- 
 brian, a singing vagabond, once played by Salvator 
 Rosa; the swaggering Spanish Capitano, by name 
 Fracasso or Matamoras, a bully and poltroon, like 
 the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus; Tartaglia, the stam- 
 merer; and Scaramuccia, a black, cowardly boaster, 
 best known to us through the superb art of Tiberio 
 Fiorelli, the great Scaramouche, who was Moliere's 
 reputed master in the art of grimace. The southern 
 colleagues of Pulcinella are almost countless, while 
 Rome and the hill towns, too, had their citizens in 
 burlesque on the stage. In truth, these masks are be- 
 wildering in their multiplicity. Kaleidoscopic Bu- 
 rattino came from everywhere and nowhere, and was 
 both harlequin and clown; Spavento, Coccodrillo, 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 109 
 
 Escarabombardon, Rinoceronte, and Spezzaferro 
 were swaggering Spanish bullies of the type of Mata- 
 moras and Fracasso; Trivellino, Fritellino, and 
 Formica (the creation of Salvator Rosa) fiddled or 
 sang like Coviello, while Pasquariello danced; Truf- 
 faldino was a rascally Arlecchino; Bertrame and 
 Meneghino were both Milanese; Stenterello was a 
 Tuscan ; Sendron a Modenese, and so many laugh- 
 ing, tumbling creatures with long noses and slit 
 mouths there were who jested and jibed throughout 
 the sixteenth and seventeeth centuries, that a volume 
 would scarcely suffice for the recital of their names 
 and antics. 
 
 Colombina, the servetta, or soubrette, with whom 
 both northern Arlecchino and southern Pulcinella 
 had their love-affairs, played a captivating part in the 
 Improvised Comedy as well as in Goldoni's plays. 
 She, too, had many names Rosetta, Marinetta, Cor- 
 allina, Diamantina, Smeraldina, Carmosina, etc. 
 Far more alert than the fairy-like Columbine who 
 pirouettes in the Christmas pantomime, she is ever a 
 saucy, adroit young person the type after which 
 Moliere modelled his pert serving-maids, and Beau- 
 marchais his Suzanne. Colombina's rival is the older 
 Pasquella, generally a widow, of more experience 
 and less virtue, with whom she quarrels and makes 
 peace in turn. 
 
 Of the lovers' roles in the Improvised Comedy lit- 
 tle need be said. They spoke Tuscan and improvised v 
 little or not at all; together with most of their love 
 
i io GOLDONI 
 
 affairs, they were borrowed from the Erudite Com- 
 edy, their names being pseudo-classical: Flaminia, 
 Giacinta, Ortensia, Beatrice, and Rosaura for the 
 women; Leandro, Lelio, Orazio, Ottavio, and Flo- 
 rindo for the men. Most of them spooned in Gol- 
 doni's comedies, many in Moliere's as well. But the 
 characters with whom the student of Goldoni is most 
 concerned are the four northern masks Pantalone, 
 II Dottore, Arlecchino, and Brighella each of 
 whom became enrolled in his earlier comedies, and 
 helped to mould his naturalistic style. 
 
 Although the characteristics of the masks are dis- 
 tinctly drawn, their origin is as obscure as the time 
 when the buffoons began to hide their features from 
 the public is uncertain. To Angelo Beolco, an actor 
 and playwright of the early sixteenth century, whom 
 Vernon Lee inspired by Maurice Sand acclaims 
 "the first man who gave the Commedia dell' arte a 
 separate and honourable position," as well as the first 
 "to mourn the misery of Italy," 16 has been given the 
 doubtful honour of introducing masks, he having 
 been said to have devised their use as a means to hide 
 the identity of himself and his well-born comrades 
 as they wandered from hamlet to hamlet, playing his 
 comedies through disinterested love for Thalia. Yet 
 as early as 1518, when Beolco was in his teens, a 
 writer named Pontano 17 describes an al fresco en- 
 tertainment by masked actors. Certainly, during 
 
 16 Studies In the Eighteenth Century In Italy. 
 
 17 Quoted by Dr. Winifred Smith, op. cit. 
 
C/5 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY in 
 
 Beolco's lifetime the Improvised Comedy flourished 
 in all its essentials, a fact made manifest by a spirited 
 song of Zannis and Magnificos, which was composed 
 before 1559, when it appeared in print. 18 Here, as 
 will be seen by the following translation of three of its 
 stanzas, not only Pantalone, the staid Venetian, is 
 mentioned, but the Bergamask, the zanies, and 
 women, a proof that when this song was written, the 
 masks had been developed and actresses were upon 
 the stage of the Improvised Comedy, which was no 
 longer set up in the market place, but in a stanza or 
 hall. 
 
 As up and down the land we stroll, 
 We play the staid Venetian s role, 
 The Bergamask } the Zanies' part: 
 For acting farces is our art! 
 We 're great reciters, all of us, 
 Both excellent and glorious. 
 
 The other worthy player-bards 
 
 Stay at the hall to act as guards, 
 
 The lovers, women, hermits, knights. 
 
 We Ve outlined plays that are delights, 
 
 So witty, jolly, pretty, bright, 
 
 You '11 die of laughing on the night ! 
 
 And then we wish to show to you 
 A lovely scene, well-made and new 
 Where Cantinella's merry voice 
 With all the Zanies will rejoice 
 
 18 Canto di Zanni e Magnifichi, by Anton Francesco Grazzini, called II 
 Lasca, in De' tutti Trionfi, earn, mascherite o canti carnascialeschi del 
 tempo di Lorenzo de' Medici a questo anno 1559. 
 
ii2 GOLDONI 
 
 To give you pleasure; if awhile 
 You would unduly laugh and smile, 
 To-morrow come ye, one and all, 
 To see the show and fill the hall ! 
 
 Rome had its Erudite Comedy fabula palllata 
 and fabula togata the one foreign, the other na- 
 tive; and also its improvised comedy the Mimes 
 from Greece, the Atellanae of the soil. Cer- 
 tain characters, too, of Roman comedy, both writ- 
 ten and extemporized, resemble vaguely the masks 
 of the Renaissance; hence, it is easy to be carried 
 away, like Riccoboni, Maurice Sand, and Ver- 
 non Lee, with the feeling that Improvised Com- 
 edy has "existed in rudiment ever since the earliest 
 days of Latin, Oscan, and Italo-Greek civilization." 
 Dr. Winifred Smith, however, comes to the conclu- 
 sion that "even admitting the unproved hypothesis, 
 that the Atellanae were farces marked by improvisa- 
 tion and masked personages, it would be impossible 
 to establish between them and the Italian extempore 
 plays a connection worthy the name." Giulio Cap- 
 rin, 19 a modern Italian authority, also scouts the idea 
 that the masks of the Renaissance are directly de- 
 scended from the buffoons of Roman comedy, a view 
 with which Symonds accords, 20 when he states that 
 "nothing could be more uncritical than to assume 
 that the Italian masks of the sixteenth century A. D. 
 boasted of an uninterrupted descent from the Roman 
 
 19 Carlo Goldoni: la sua vita le sue opere. 
 
 20 Introduction to The Memoirs of Count Carlo Gozzi. 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 113 
 
 masks of the fifth century B. c.," his assumption being 
 that 
 
 Out of the same persistent habits emerged the same kind of 
 native drama; and just as the Atellanae of ancient Rome event- 
 ually brought the comedy of the proletariat upon the public stage 
 in cities, so at the close of the sixteenth century the Commedia dell' 
 arte worked up the rudiments of popular farce into a new form 
 which delighted Europe for two hundred years. 
 
 This being the modern critical view regarding the 
 suggested Roman origin of the Improvised Comedy, 
 it seems unnecessary to present here the fancied re- 
 semblances of Maccus to Pulcinella, Bucco to Ar- 
 lecchino, Pappus to Pantalone, and Dossennus to II 
 Dottore, or to sketch the supposed likeness between 
 the nimble and dull-witted sanniones of Rome and the 
 zanni of the sixteenth century. Nor is there space 
 within the limits of this chapter to discuss the hypoth- 
 esis that the masks of the Improvised Comedy are 
 descended either from the comic personages of the 
 mystery plays, or from a mediaeval profane comedy 
 that may have existed side by side with the sacred 
 representations. 
 
 Although the origin of the Improvised Comedy 
 is shrouded in uncertainty, there is no doubt that it 
 "delighted Europe for two hundred years." The 
 glory of the Renaissance might be on the wane, yet 
 Italy still taught art and fashion to the rest of Europe 
 when this form of comedy reached its full develop- 
 ment. Young foreigners, seeking culture in Italian 
 
1 1 4 GOLDONI 
 
 courts, took to their native lands such stories of 
 the ability of the Italian mask actors, that many a 
 northern monarch sent to Italy for a troupe of buf- 
 foons to edify him. In Austria, Bavaria, and France, 
 Italian masks appeared and gave delight with their 
 spontaneous merriment, carrying by storm the ram- 
 parts of the native drama. In Spain and England 
 the local forces, though hard pressed, held their own, 
 the drama of those lands being too thoroughly na- 
 tional to be stunted in its growth by this foreign blast. 
 
 Troupes of Italians, it is true, played at the court 
 of Spain, and made scenari from Spanish plays, the 
 stage receiving technical impulses from these adepts 
 in dramatic construction; yet the Spaniard of that 
 day was too dire and gloomy to be strongly influenced 
 by Italian merriment; therefore, the cloak-and-sword 
 drama, true vehicle of national expression that it be- 
 came, ran little risk of being influenced by the 
 sprightly Gommedia dell' arte. 
 
 In England, Italian actors played probably as early 
 as 1572, certainly in 1577, when Drusiano Martinelli 
 was granted a license to appear in London. Thomas 
 Heywood (1612) speaks of "doctors, zawnyes, pan- 
 taloons, and harlakenes." Shakespeare, too, denotes 
 the sixth age of man by "the lean and slipper' d panta- 
 loon." Captain Fracasso is manifestly the inspira- 
 tion of Udall's Ralph Roister Doister, and Ben 
 Jonson's Captain Bobadil, and in the four-scene plats, 
 or scenari, discovered about a century ago among the 
 papers of Henslowe, the manager, and his son-in-law, 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 115 
 
 the wealthy actor Alleyn, there is evidence that the 
 professional methods of the Italian mask actors were 
 known to the English stage even before Shakespeare 
 penned his first play; therefore, it is not surprising to 
 find the action of his pieces interrupted by the lazzi of 
 clowns, doltish as Arlecchino or knavish as Brighella. 
 It is unlikely, however, as Dr. Winifred Smith points 
 out, 21 that the English actor ever learned to im- 
 provise from a scenario. Many plots, certain struc- 
 tural features, and also its means of expression 
 prose for comedy and blank verse for tragedy the 
 Elizabethan drama undoubtedly owed to the Italian 
 stage; yet, that was not the entire debt, for it owed as 
 well, to quote Dr. J. W. Cunliffe, 22 "in tragedy re- 
 straint and dignity; in comedy graceful and sprightly 
 satire of contemporary life." 
 
 In France the debt was far greater. As early as 
 1548, Italian actors began to invade that land, and 
 when in 1571 the Gelosi made their first pilgrim- 
 age beyond the Alps, the French saw extemporized 
 comedy interpreted by adepts. Henceforth, except 
 during the nineteen years when the Hotel de Bour- 
 gogne was closed by Louis XIV (1697-1716), the 
 
 21 Italian and Elizabethan Comedy. 
 
 22 The Influence of Italian on Early Elizabethan Drama. 
 
 23 A famous troupe of Italian mask actors, which made several trips 
 to France between 1571 and 1604. The personnel changed from time 
 to time, Flaminio Scala being reputed to have been its director for sev- 
 eral years. Among its most noted histrions were wanton Vittoria Piis- 
 simi, its first leading lady, Simone Bolognese and Panzanini Gabriele, 
 the zanni, Francesco Andreini, both innamorato and Capitano, and Isa- 
 bella Andreini, the latter's wife, noted for her talent, beauty, erudition 
 and exemplary conduct. 
 
n6 GOLDONI 
 
 Italian masked buffoons reigned merrily in France, 
 until they were deprived of their theatre during 
 Goldoni's old age ( 1779) , and forced to become mute 
 pantomimists in order that the rights of the Comedie 
 Frangaise and the Opera might be protected. Two 
 hundred years had elapsed since the advent of the 
 Gelosi, and during that time the Improvised Comedy 
 of Italy had taken so strong a hold upon French pop- 
 ular taste that not a single French writer of comedy 
 had been wholly free from its influence. Moliere 
 made liberal use of Italian material, mask buffoonery 
 being his inspiration. By adding his own masterful 
 characterization and atmosphere to plots taken from 
 all lands, he created French comedy, but to Italy he 
 was indebted for his comic characters, for the love 
 intrigues of his witching coquettes and pert sou- 
 brettes, and above all for his spirited stage-craft. 
 
 Yet, much as the modern drama owes to the Impro- 
 vised Comedy, that unique form of stage merriment 
 had several serious defects. Instead of the old plots 
 used to-day with new characters to carry them, Ital- 
 ian audiences were once regaled with the same charac- 
 ters fitted to stories so manifold that Carlo Gozzi, 
 GoldonPs bitter rival, estimated the number of dra- 
 matic situations used in improvised comedy at be- 
 tween three and four hundred. The characters were 
 not only fixed, but personal as well, an actor once 
 playing Arlecchino, Pantalone, or Pulcinella remain- 
 ing in the same part throughout his life, and often 
 giving such an individualized touch to it, that he be- 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 117 
 
 came known solely by its name, as in the case of Tib- 
 erio Fiorelli, the great Scaramouche. Aside from the 
 facility with which an actor might vulgarize an im- 
 provised comedy, the vital defect of this dramatic 
 form lay in the use of masks, and in its tendency to 
 become stereotyped. The masks prevented facial 
 play, and too often the buffoons' lazzi were but repe- 
 titions of jokes already stale, while the love-making 
 of the primo amoroso was wont to be drawn entirely 
 from his zibaldone. So long as the mask actors re- 
 mained idealists, their scenic parody of life was un- 
 equalled in spontaneity; yet during their decadence 
 the Scylla and Charybdis, between which they seldom 
 sailed unscathed, were lewdness and monotony. 
 
 Goldoni realized these evils thoroughly. In speak- 
 ing of the stage in his day and of the improvement 
 that had come to literature since the preceding cen- 
 tury, he laments the fact that "the last to yield to a 
 better system were the actors." "Being suckled with 
 bad milk," he continues, "they were incapable on 
 their own volition of mending their ways" ; and to his 
 mind there was nothing on the stage but "indecent 
 harlequinades, foul and scandalous intrigues, lewd 
 jests, immodest loves." 24 In The Comic Theatre (II 
 Teatro comico) , a play he wrote to uphold his dra- 
 matic methods against the attacks of his enemies, he 
 makes a character say: "The public is tired of al- 
 ways seeing the same things, of always hearing the 
 same words the moment Arlecchino opens his 
 
 24 Prefaces to the Pasquali edition of Goldoni's comedies. 
 
n8 GOLDONI 
 
 mouth, you know what he is going to say." Indeed 
 he was alive not only to the vulgarity and monotony 
 of the Improvised Comedy, but also to the factitious- 
 ness created by the use of masks, an inartistic conven- 
 tion he thus decries : 
 
 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-humoured, the same features are always exhibited; and how- 
 ever he may gesticulate and vary the tone, he can never convey by 
 the countenance, which is the interpreter of the heart, the different 
 passions with which he is inwardly agitated. 
 
 Though the evils of the Improvised Comedy are 
 many, its virtues are world-wide in their influence. 
 To Moliere, the first distinctly modern dramatist, it 
 taught dramatic technic. To Goldoni it furnished 
 the stage-craft that makes his comedies move so easily 
 and naturally. From its elements the Frenchman 
 created the modern drama, and from them too, the 
 Italian built a new and thoroughly national written 
 comedy with characters drawn from the life of his 
 people the proletariat, as well as the aristocracy and 
 the bourgeoisie. Thus Goldoni's inspiration, like 
 Moliere's, was the unwritten, democratic comedy of 
 Italy, spontaneous in dialogue and flexible in con- 
 struction, a comedy shaped by the practical expe- 
 rience of professional actors, unhampered by didactic 
 rules, and therefore so vital that it still influences the 
 drama, the task of the playwright of the present day 
 being to construct his scenario after the manner of the 
 Improvised Comedy, then revivify in dialogue Pan- 
 
THE IMPROVISED COMEDY 119 
 
 talone, II Dottore, Arlecchino, Brighella, il primo 
 amoroso, la signora, and la servetta. This done, their 
 roles are allotted to the first old man, the second old 
 man, the first low comedian, the second low comedian, 
 the leading man, the leading lady, and the soubrette. 
 II Capitano or Scaramuccia is played by the modern 
 villain, Pasquella by the first old woman, Ottavio or 
 Silvio by the juvenile, and the simpering role of 
 Flaminia, Bettina, Clarice, or Isabella by the mod- 
 ern ingenue. Thus closely is the drama of the pres- 
 ent day related in construction to the Improvised 
 Comedy of Italy, an inexhaustible grab bag from 
 which our playwrights consciously or unconsciously 
 draw their material, just as those of the Renaissance 
 drew from Plautus and Terence, and they from Me- 
 nander the Greek. 
 
G 
 
 IV 
 
 THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 
 
 OLDONI'S naturalistic comedy was created 
 from the lewd dust of the Improvised 
 Comedy of his day; yet so slowly did he pur- 
 sue his task that his earlier efforts are simply come- 
 dies of this nature, shorn of lubricity, in which the 
 love scenes only were penned, the improvisation of 
 the lazzi being left to the ingenuity of the buffoons. 
 Don Juan Tenorio; or, The Debauchee, his first 
 lengthy comedy is, it is true, a five-act effort in verse, 
 written in imitation of Moliere. This play, however, 
 is so foreign to Goldoni's genius that, like his trag- 
 edies, it becomes interesting mainly as an evidence of 
 how far afield an artist may wander. Yet Goldoni 
 was ever straying from the path of his genius, his 
 work fairly covering the entire range of the drama, 
 tragedy, tragi-comedy, comedy, farce, extrava- 
 ganza, opera, and opera bouffe. 
 
 He is eminent only in comedy. Here he has hewn 
 a path quite his own ; for although he has been termed 
 erroneously "the Italian Moliere" his genius is dis- 
 tinct from that of the Frenchman. His ambition was 
 both to reform the Italian stage and "not to spoil na- 
 ture" ; yet, his reform was brought about so gradually 
 
 120 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 121 
 
 and he spoiled nature so frequently by straying away 
 from the sunlit streets of Venice, that to follow the 
 development of his art with chronological exactness 
 becomes futile. Not only did he write many kinds 
 of plays but many kinds of comedies as well. In 
 dramatic naturalism lies his fame; for only when he 
 paints the life of his native Venice is he eminent. 
 Speaking roughly, a hundred and fifty comedies, a 
 hundred tragedies, operatic tragedies, and operas 
 bourles form his dramatic product; yet to know the 
 comedies is to know Goldoni, his other work being 
 interesting chiefly as a matter of endeavour. 
 
 "To classify the vast mass of Carlo Goldoni's the- 
 atrical works is most difficult," says Ernesto Masi; 
 "writers and editors have tried it many times, yet 
 there is not a single one of these attempts that does 
 not open the door to criticism both justifiable and 
 justified." 1 He wrote comedies in Tuscan and com- 
 edies wholly or partly in the Venetian dialect, 
 comedies in prose and comedies in verse; some dealt 
 with the life of Venice, others were exotic in sub- 
 ject; some were comedies of character, others of 
 intrigue; some were serious, others light; some dealt 
 with fashionable life, others with the bourgeoisie or 
 the proletariat. At no time in his long career did 
 he confine his work to any particular style, his choice 
 of subject being determined either by his mood or 
 by theatrical exigencies. To group his work into 
 comedies of character or of intrigue in the manner 
 
 1 Scelta di Commedie di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
122 GOLDONI 
 
 of many writers does scant justice to Goldoni, the 
 painter of nature. He either depicts effectively the 
 Venetian life he knows, or ineffectively a life he does 
 not know the London of Richardson, the Paris of 
 Voltaire and Diderot, the Persia of the Arabian 
 Nights. 
 
 As in the case of Moliere, prose was the natural 
 medium of his art; verse a form of expression forced 
 upon him by the demands of public taste. About 
 forty of his comedies are in verse ; five of these, and 
 the best by far, being in the Venetian dialect. Al- 
 though scarcely a tenth of the prose comedies are 
 penned in the speech of Venice, those on which his 
 fame most surely rests are written in this idiom; 
 while in nearly twoscore of the remainder the mask 
 characters speak in dialect after the manner of the 
 Improvised Comedy. Indeed in almost every in- 
 stance, the speech of Venice is used either wholly or 
 in part whenever the scene of the play lies on native 
 soil. 
 
 There are, moreover, three distinct periods in Gol- 
 doni's dramatic work, coetaneous with equally dis- 
 tinct periods of his life. During his earlier years his 
 vagrant spirit led him into many channels and 
 through many adventures. From 1721, when he ran 
 away from school at Rimini and travelled to his 
 home at Chioggia with a band of strolling players, 
 until the autumn of 1748, when he appeared in 
 Venice as the playwright of a troupe managed by 
 an actor named Medebac, he led a fitful life as stu- 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 123 
 
 dent, diplomatist, and lawyer, a life at once adven- 
 turous and unsuccessful. From 1734 until 1743 he 
 wrote plays for Imer's troupe; yet during a part of 
 this time he was Genoese consul at Venice; so it 
 cannot be said that he had adopted play-writing as 
 his profession. It was his avocation rather than his 
 vocation; furthermore he abandoned the stage in 
 1744 to practice law at Pisa. During this first period 
 of his life he wrote some thirty dramatic pieces: 
 tragedies, tragi-comedies, operas, operatic interludes, 
 operas bouffes, written comedies, and improvised 
 comedies. It was a period of essay during which he 
 was groping in dramatic darkness, uncertain whither 
 to direct his steps and still dubious of dramatic writ- 
 ing as a profession. 
 
 Burning his legal bridges entirely in 1747, by sign- 
 ing a contract with Medebac for a period of one 
 year, he appeared in Venice during the following 
 year as a professional dramatist and, to quote his own 
 words, "abandoned himself without reflection to the 
 comic genius that had lured him." Here begins the 
 second period of his life as well as of his work. Dur- 
 ing fourteen years he wrote professionally for the 
 stage of Venice; his life, except for quarrels with 
 managers, actresses and critics, being joyously lived 
 in the tranquillity of domestic peace. During that 
 happy time he penned fully a hundred comedies, and 
 about half as many operas bouffes. Graced by all 
 his masterpieces save one, 2 this was the most prolific 
 
 2 Le Bourru bienfaisant, written in French in 1771. 
 
i2 4 GOLDONI 
 
 period of his life as well as the period of his greatest 
 achievement. 
 
 When the indifference of the public and the attacks 
 of rivals and critics drove him into exile in Paris in 
 1762, he began again in France, as the playwright of 
 Les Comediens du roi de la troupe italienne, the re- 
 form of comedy he had accomplished in Italy; yet he 
 fought less valiantly for his ideals. Though he 
 penned some fifty comedies, scenari, and operas 
 bouffes in France, once only did his genius shine 
 with its full splendour, and then in a foreign tongue. 
 
 These three distinct periods of Goldoni's work have 
 been kept in mind during the writing of this book, 
 the present chapter treating of the first, or period 
 of essay, the chapter entitled "Dramatic Work in 
 France," of the last, or period of exile; while the 
 chapters called "Comedies of the Aristocracy," 
 "Comedies of the Bourgeoisie," "Comedies in the 
 Venetian Dialect," "Exotic Comedies" and "Come- 
 dies in Verse," are all concerned with the great pro- 
 lific period between his return to Venice in 1748 and 
 his departure for Paris in 1762. To these rules of 
 selection an exception has been made in regard to 
 those comedies in which the plots are taken wholly 
 or in part from Moliere, a chapter being devoted to 
 the plays in which Goldoni attempted to imitate the 
 work of his great predecessor. 
 
 At the time when he began to write for the stage 
 of his day the Improvised Comedy was in its deca- 
 dence. True, there were a few skilled mask actors 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 125 
 
 such as Antonio Sacchi, the harlequin, and Cesare 
 D'Arbes, the pantaloon, but they were the exceptions 
 rather than the rule, the Improvised Comedy being 
 then mostly in the hands of lewd jack-puddings. In 
 its prime this stage parody of life, unexcelled in 
 spontaneity and truth to nature, was allied to the fine 
 arts; in its decline it became the base medium of 
 anathematized buffoons forbidden by law to enter 
 decent houses. Even in sybaritic Venice, a state in- 
 quisitor of Goldoni's time lashed the players of Ven- 
 ice in these scathing words: "Remember that you 
 actors are persons odious to our blessed Lord, but 
 tolerated by the prince only as a pasture for those 
 who delight in your iniquities." 3 To this arraign- 
 ment of the Improvised Comedy of his day, Goldoni 
 adds the following testimony: 
 
 Indeed, the Comic Stage in our Italy had been so corrupt for 
 more than a century that for the transalpine nations it had be- 
 come an abominable object of contempt. There upon the public 
 boards only unseemly harlequinades, foul and scandalous gallant- 
 ries and jests were in vogue. Stories poor in conception and 
 worse in execution, uncivil and ill ordered, which far from cor- 
 recting vice as the first, the ancient and most noble object of comedy, 
 only fomented it, and arousing the laughter of the ignorant plebe- 
 ians, dissolute youths and the most debauched of the population, dis- 
 gusted, then irritated the educated and the well-bred, who if they 
 sometimes frequented so poor a theatre and were there dragged out 
 of boredom, took good care not to take with them their innocent 
 families, lest their hearts might be corrupted. ... Of late, however, 
 many have tried to regulate the theatre and bring good taste back to 
 
 3 Nicolo Maria Tiepolo (about 1778), as quoted by P. G. Molmenti in 
 his Carlo Goldoni, Studio critico-biografico. 
 
i 2 6 GOLDONI 
 
 it. Some have attempted to do so by producing upon the stage come- 
 dies translated from the Spanish and from the French, but mere 
 translations could not make a hit in Italy. National tastes differ, 
 as do customs and languages, and for this reason our mercenary 
 actors, feeling in their prejudice the force of this truth, set about 
 altering them, and reciting them in improvisation ; yet they so dis- 
 figured them that they could no longer be recognized as works of 
 such celebrated poets as Lope de Vega and Moliere who beyond 
 the mountains, where better taste flourished, had happily composed 
 them. They have treated with the same cruelty the comedies of 
 Plautus and Terence; nor did they spare any of the other ancient 
 or modern comedies that happened to fall into their hands, or 
 which had been born, or were being born, in Italy itself, especially 
 in that most polished school of Florence. In the meantime the 
 educated chafed, the people wearied ; all exclaimed in accord against 
 bad comedies ; yet most people had no idea of good ones. 4 
 
 Such was the lewd comedy which inspired Gol- 
 doni's naturalistic comedy of Venetian life, his earlier 
 farces like those of Moliere, who learned his technic 
 in the same school, being little more than scenari, in 
 which either all or some of the four Venetian masks 
 appear. His earlier comedies, too, are frequently 
 interrupted by lazzi f though they are free from vul- 
 garity. Gradually as his pen became surer in touch, 
 his masks emerged from their buffoonish chrysalids 
 as fully developed characters ; his Pantalone, though 
 still clothed in his red trousers, and often masked, 
 typifying Venice's worth, his Brighella and Arlec- 
 chino, her light-hearted, indolent people, his Dottore, 
 her corrupt bureaucracy and bar. 
 
 Goldoni has been accused of never escaping from 
 
 4 Prefaces to Bettinelli and Paperini editions reprinted in Pasquali 
 edition, Vol. I. 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 127 
 
 the influence of the Improvised Comedy; yet when 
 he discards the masks and their lazzl entirely and 
 presents the life of his beloved Venice just as it ap- 
 pears to his artistic eyes, his work is as free from the 
 stereotyped devices of the Improvised Comedy as 
 is Moliere's, as free as Ibsen's, it might almost be 
 said, for here Goldoni appears as a consummate nat- 
 uralist depicting actual life in truthful colours. Yet 
 only a few times in his long dramatic career did he 
 liberate himself wholly from the hackneyed tricks 
 of the native comedy, or the stilted artifice of the 
 French comedy of his day. The method of his re- 
 form was slowly to eliminate the masks by accustom- 
 ing the public to written comedy constructed in the 
 old style with some or all of the stereotyped charac- 
 ters, then to discard this style and these characters 
 entirely, and present to his countrymen a written com- 
 edy along conventional French lines. Yet so little 
 did he appreciate his true genius that his memoirs 
 teem with defence of these artificial comedies, while 
 his naturalistic masterpieces often receive scant men- 
 tion. Nevertheless he seems to have understood that 
 his ability to reproduce the life about him was the 
 source of his immediate success ; for while he scolded 
 his countrymen for their inability to appreciate re- 
 fined comedy, he catered to their taste. He had 
 moreover a definite purpose in view which he ex- 
 pressed in these words : 
 
 Now there was within me this selfsame spirit, which making 
 me a most attentive observer of the comedies that were being 
 
i 2 8 GOLDONI 
 
 performed in the various theatres of Italy, caused me to recognize 
 and lament their corrupted taste, while comprehending at the same 
 time that the public would derive no little benefit, and he who 
 should succeed, no small praise, if some man of talent inspired by 
 the comic spirit should attempt to uplift the abased Italian Theatre. 
 This hope of glory finally enlisted me in the undertaking. 5 
 
 His memoirs, written years after this declaration 
 was penned, show the fidelity with which he upheld 
 the banner of his reform. "I am now," he said of 
 a play produced shortly after he had won his first 
 success in Venice, "perfectly at my ease, and I can 
 give rein to my imagination. Hitherto I have la- 
 boured on old subjects, but now I must create and 
 invent for myself. This," he added, "is perhaps the 
 happy moment to set on foot the reform I have so 
 long meditated. Was I wrong," he continues, "in 
 encouraging myself in this manner? No; for com- 
 edy was my inclination and good comedy should be 
 my aim. Had I entertained the ambition of 
 equalling the masters of the art, I should have been 
 wrong, but I merely aspired to reform the abuses 
 of the stage of my own country, and to accomplish 
 this required no great amount of erudition." Com- 
 edy being concerned with ordinary life is therefore 
 likely to be truer to life than tragedy. "The mis- 
 fortunes of the heroes of tragedy interest us at a 
 distance," Goldoni tells us, "but those of our contem- 
 poraries are likely to affect us more closely. Com- 
 edy, which is an imitation of nature, ought not to 
 reject virtuous and pathetic sentiments, if the essen- 
 
 5 Preface to the Pasquali edition, Vol. I. 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 129 
 
 tial object be observed of enlivening it with those 
 comic and prominent traits which constitute the very 
 foundation of its existence." Here he has tersely ex- 
 pressed the fundamental principles of his art. "The 
 rule of all rules," as Moliere wisely says, "is to 
 please," a precept Goldoni expounds when main- 
 taining that "a comedy without interest, plot, or sus- 
 pense, in spite of its beauties of detail, cannot be 
 other than a bad play. Yet I could not," he said at 
 another time, "reform the national comedy all at once 
 without shocking its admirers: therefore I awaited 
 a favourable moment for commencing a frontal at- 
 tack upon it with more strength and safety." 
 
 The moment for that attack came in 1747 when 
 he "abandoned himself without reflection to the comic 
 genius that had lured him." Thereafter, until 
 driven into exile by the neglect of his fellow country- 
 men, he fought valiantly in defence of an art, the 
 theory of which he thus elucidates in The Comic 
 Theatre, a polemic rather than a play, written as a 
 prologue to his dramatic work in Venice: 
 
 Comedy was invented to correct foibles and ridicule disagree- \ 
 able habits; when the comedy of the ancients was written in this 
 wise, the whole world liked it, for on seeing a facsimile of a char- 
 acter upon the boards, everybody saw the original either in him- 
 self or in some one else. When comedy became merely ridiculous, 
 nobody paid further attention to it, since under the pretext of caus- 
 ing laughter, the most high-sounding absurdities were permitted. 
 Now that we are again fishing comedies out of the Mare magnum 
 of nature, men find themselves again searching their hearts and 
 identifying themselves with the passion or the character which is 
 
130 GOLDONI 
 
 being represented, for they know how to discern whether a passion 
 is well depicted, whether a character is well sustained: in short, 
 they observe. . . . 
 
 The French have triumphed in the art of comedy during a 
 whole century; it is now time for Italy to proclaim that in her the 
 seed of good authorship is not dried up, Italian authors having 
 been, after the Greeks and the Romans, the first to enrich and 
 adorn the stage. The French in their comedies, it must be ad- 
 mitted, present fine and well-sustained characters; moreover, they 
 delineate passions well, and their conceptions are acute, witty, and 
 brilliant, but the public of that country is satisfied with a little. 
 One single character is sufficient to maintain a French comedy. 
 Around a single passion well conceived and drawn, a great number 
 of speeches vibrate which by dint of elocution present the air of 
 novelty. We Italians demand much more. We wish the princi- 
 pal character to be strong, original, and well recognized . . . that 
 the plot shall be fertile in incidents and novelties. We demand 
 morals mingled with quips and humour. We insist that the end 
 be unexpected, but plainly derived from the trend of the action. 
 We like to have an infinity of things, too many to relate here, and 
 it is only in the course of time that we can succeed in learning by 
 practice and usage to know them and to obtain success with them. 
 
 Although he was opposed to "flattering the actors 
 who were so fond of their old ways," Goldoni, never- 
 theless, recognized that the Improvised Comedy 
 permitted them "to distinguish themselves by the 
 promptness of their wits, from players of all other na- 
 tions," 6 and he was too alive to the exigencies of the 
 stage to attempt the sudden undoing of that com- 
 edy. Indeed he was a commercial dramatist in the 
 modern sense, writing to fill a theatre, yet never en- 
 tirely forsaking his ideals. Still, he often failed to 
 realize that his most popular plays were likewise his 
 
 6 Preface to Pasquali edition, Vol. III. 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 131 
 
 best. Knowing the worth of real comedy, but en- 
 ticed by the literary glitter of contemporary France 
 toward false comedy as a thing to be emulated for 
 its refinement, he returned to real comedy only when 
 spurred on by the man in the box-office. "But it was 
 time to leave this kind of sentimental play," he ex- 
 claims after an unsuccessful attempt to naturalize 
 artificial French comedy, "and return to characters 
 and real comedy, the more so as we were nearing the 
 end of the carnival, when it was necessary to enliven 
 the entertainment and put it within reach of every- 
 one." Whenever he was obliged to do this, he pre- 
 sented one of his naturalistic pictures of Venetian 
 life; as is often the case, while doing his best work 
 he usually wrote at fever heat. "How many come- 
 dies have I precipitated in six or seven days 1" he ex- 
 claims. "How often have I, when harassed by time, 
 given the first act for rehearsal and without seeing 
 it again, written the second, and likewise the third!" 
 This he was able to do through his thorough mastery 
 of stage-craft, which he elucidates as follows: 
 
 Time, experience, and habit had so familiarized me with the art 
 of comedy, that after inventing the subjects and selecting the char- 
 acters, for me all the rest was mere routine. Formerly I went 
 through four processes before finishing the composition and cor- 
 rection of a play. 
 
 First process: the plan, with the division into three principal 
 parts, the exposition, the intrigue, and denouement. 
 
 Second process: the division of the action into acts and scenes. 
 
 Third : the dialogue of the more interesting scenes. 
 
 Fourth: the general dialogue of the entire play. 
 
I3 2 GOLDONI 
 
 It frequently happened that during this last process I changed all 
 that I had done in my second and third ; for ideas succeed one an- 
 other; one scene produces another, one chance expression furnishes 
 a new thought. After a while I was able to reduce the four pro- 
 cesses to a single one. Having the plan and three divisions in my 
 head, I would begin at once with Act One, Scene One, and would 
 go straight on to the end, with the maxim always in view, that all 
 the lines ought to terminate in the denouement, which is the princi- 
 pal thing, it seems, and for which all the machinery is arranged. 
 
 Although he had written a comedy when a child 
 and had at the age of twelve played a female role in 
 a performance given at Perugia, his dramatic educa- 
 tion really began at Rimini in 1720, where, instead 
 of studying logic under the Dominican father Can- 
 dini, he read Plautus, Terence, Aristophanes, and the 
 fragments of Menander. After fleeing from Can- 
 dini's scholastic boredom, he received his first prac- 
 tical knowledge of the stage while journeying by 
 boat to Chioggia in company with Florindo and his 
 strolling players. The inspiration given him by a 
 study of the classic dramatists was crystallized into 
 a distinct ambition in Pavia, when at the age of fif- 
 teen, he made the discovery in the library of Pro- 
 fessor Lauzio that although there was an English, 
 Spanish, and French drama, there was no Italian 
 drama. Seeing with pain that a the nation which 
 was acquainted with dramatic art before every other 
 nation, lacked something essential," he resolved, that 
 day, "to do his share"; yet, he was no deep student 
 of the classics, the books which he "reflected upon 
 most" and which he "never regretted having used" 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 133 
 
 being "The World and The Stage." 7 Surely experi- 
 ence is a better training for a dramatist than erudition. 
 
 Throughout his long life the fire of the ambition 
 lighted at Pavia was never quenched, while that 
 youthful resolution to do his share was fully sus- 
 tained, no other Italian having done so much toward 
 raising his country to the dramatic level of other na- 
 tions. Though he found no collection of plays in 
 Professor Lauzio's library "which could do honour 
 to Italy," at Chioggia during the following summer 
 he was, as has been seen in a preceding chapter, in- 
 advertently given by a worthy canon, Machiavelli's 
 Mandrake, a comedy which he "devoured at the first 
 reading and perused at least ten times thereafter"; 
 though it was not "the wanton style" nor "the scan- 
 dalous intrigue of the piece" which made him ad- 
 mire it, but rather the fact that it was the first comedy 
 of character which had ever fallen into his hands. 
 Cicognini 8 is another Italian author of comedy whom 
 he read and re-read, "a Florentine author very little 
 known," as he says, "in the republic of letters," yet 
 exceedingly interesting withal "because of the art 
 with which he created suspense and pleasingly untied 
 his knots." 
 
 Thus inspired, Goldoni set himself assiduously to 
 the task of reforming the Italian stage, his object be- 
 
 7 Prefaces to the editions of 1750 and 1753, reprinted in Pasquali 
 edition. 
 
 8 There were two dramatists named Cicognini, who were father and 
 son: lacopo (1577-1633) and Giacinto Andrea (1606-1660) ; but, as Guido 
 Mazzoni points out, it is manifestly the younger to whom Goldoni refers, 
 he being a writer of many comedies. 
 
i 3 4 GOLDONI 
 
 ing to ennoble the Improvised Comedy by purifying 
 its morality and by creating from its elements a na- 
 tional written comedy. After he began to write for 
 the stage he groped in dramatic darkness for fully 
 twelve years before becoming convinced that comedy 
 was his bent. His studies of Menander, Plautus, 
 Terence, Machiavelli, and Cicognini should have 
 turned his steps thither; yet like Moliere at the outset 
 of his career he was a votary of Melpomene. At 
 the age of twenty-five he bowed, as has been seen, to 
 the influence of Metastasio by writing Amalasontha, 
 a tragedy for music, which was condemned by the 
 director of the opera at Milan, and burnt by 
 Goldoni without a pang of regret. Though an ac- 
 quaintance to whom he had read it before it was 
 committed to the flames told him "to be constant to 
 comedy," he did not accept this advice unreservedly 
 until years of experience had taught him its value. 
 In the meantime his youthful pen brought forth trag- 
 edies, tragi-comedies, and interludes, the first of his 
 efforts to be performed professionally being The 
 Venetian Gondolier (II Gondollere veneziano), the 
 musical interlude penned at Milan during the sum- 
 mer of 1733 f r tne troupe of The Anonymous, and 
 which, although written to be sung, Goldoni calls 
 "the first of his comedy efforts to appear in public and 
 afterward in print." 
 
 This interlude is a charming little sketch of a lov- 
 ers' quarrel written in quaint dialect stanzas, the two 
 characters that sustain it being thoroughly natural 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 135 
 
 persons : moreover they are Venetian and of the peo- 
 ple, while their love is a human passion with none 
 of the artificial delicacy common to the French com- 
 edy of that day. The language, too, though in verse, 
 is the language of the streets ; therefore in this trifle, 
 Goldoni sounded clearly though faintly the first note 
 of his dramatic naturalism. 
 
 In 1734, his tragi-comedy Belisarius, present- 
 ing as its hero the Emperor Justinian's famous gen- 
 eral, was produced so successfully in Venice that it 
 ran for nearly a month. This play, written in the 
 midst of war's alarums, and saved from the thieving 
 deserters who despoiled its author during the cam- 
 paign, in 1734, is as good as any of Goldoni's trag- 
 edies and tragi-comedies, yet the reader of the pres- 
 ent day who wades through its pomposity will merely 
 yawn, wondering how a genius so true could have 
 penned a work so false. No imagery adorns its tire- 
 some lines; no philosophy, no truth. Goldoni says 
 that its characters were men and not demigods : they 
 are certainly very dull men speaking dull versified 
 prose, and the wonder is that the play was applauded. 
 It was written in the traditional stilted manner of the 
 neo-classics, though perhaps its success was due to 
 its novelty, it being the first play, according to Pro- 
 fessor Ortolani, 10 without masks or without music 
 produced in Italy since Maffei's Merope (1714), a 
 tragedy also written to elevate the stage, MafTei be- 
 ing, like Goldoni, a reformer. MafTei's efforts were 
 
 10 Delia Vita e dell' arte di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
136 GOLDONI 
 
 futile, however, and so were Goldoni's so long as he 
 persisted in writing pompous tragedies and tragi- 
 comedies, the titles of the plays of this character he 
 penned during this period of essay being sufficient 
 to indicate their turgid qualities. 11 Speaking of 
 Belisarius Goldoni says that "it was not worth the 
 price at which it had been valued," and the same 
 may be said of his other lugubrious plays written 
 when he was seeking fame without knowing where her 
 proud* temple stood. 
 
 To find a young dramatist inspired by neo-classi- 
 cism at a time when Metastasio was in vogue is not 
 surprising. The Racine of Italy, as Goldoni calls 
 this lyric dramatist, knew Horace by heart; yet he 
 is said never to have begun writing without first read- 
 ing a few pages of Guarini's Pastor Fldo; so, al- 
 though he occasionally attained to the Roman's ex- 
 quisite elegance, his style was more often tainted with 
 the tasteless elegance of the later Renaissance, 
 Apostolo Zeno, whom Goldoni likens to Corneille, 
 although the first to dignify melodrama or grand 
 opera, as we now call this dramatic form, the word 
 melodrama having been perverted from the original 
 meaning has been styled a lesser Metastasio. With 
 equal justice Goldoni, the youthful imitator of both 
 these writers, may be called a lesser Zeno as far as 
 concerns his melodramas. 
 
 To rewrite Griselda, a musical tragi-comedy Zeno 
 had himself written in collaboration with Pietro 
 
 11 Rosmonda, Rinaldo dt Montalbano, Enrico di Sicilia, and Griselda. 
 

 THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 137 
 
 Pariati, was his first operatic effort. This was fol- 
 lowed by four melodramas 12 written in the style 
 Zeno and Metastasio had popularized. As in the 
 case of the tragedies, to detail their turgid stories 
 here would merely weary the reader, they, too, being 
 interesting mainly as evidence of how far Goldoni 
 strayed during his earlier years of dramatic writing 
 from the road the Muses intended him to follow. 
 Years after when he had travelled a considerable dis- 
 tance upon that road, he edited a subscription edition 
 of his plays. 13 Realizing how futile had been his 
 youthful attempts to write serious plays, he did not 
 include therein a single classical tragedy, or tragi- 
 comedy. 
 
 Another style of musical play, to the penning of 
 which he frequently devoted himself throughout his 
 long life, he called "merry plays for music" 
 (drammi giocosi per musica) , these being a versified 
 form of musical comedy akin in both to opera bouffe 
 and to French vaudeville. Of these merry plays he 
 wrote some fifty or more, 14 all mirthful trifles in 
 which his genius for comedy is manifest; The Young 
 Countess (La Contessina), for instance, a youthful 
 
 12 La Generosita politica, Gustavo prlmo re di Svezia, Oronte re de* 
 Sciti, and Statira. 
 
 13 Pasquali edition, 1761. 
 
 14 Dr. Cesare Musatti (/ Drammi musicali di Carlo Goldoni} has col- 
 lected the titles of eighty-six musical plays by Goldoni, including the 
 more serious operas, as well as the musical interludes, such as // Gon- 
 doliere Veneziano. Of the merry plays he gives the titles of more than 
 fifty. Over sixty different musicians, among them Galuppi, Paisiello, 
 Cimarosa, Jomelli, Bach, Haydn, and Mozart, composed music for Gol- 
 doni's libretti. 
 
138 GOLDONI 
 
 effort of this nature, displaying in its dainty love- 
 story of a bourgeois lad who pretends to be a marquis 
 in order to win a noble lady's hand, more truth to 
 nature than is to be found in any of his sombre trage- 
 dies. Yet to linger over his "merry plays for music" 
 is to wander from the comedy he glorified. Though 
 more replete with art than his tragedies and tragi- 
 comedies, they are, like his interludes to use a com- 
 mercial phrase only "by-products" of his genius, 
 and therefore merely beg the question of his art. 
 
 Before he turned his lagging steps towards comedy, 
 Zeno told him that his opera, Gustavus I, King of 
 Sweden (Gustavo primo re di Svezia) was 
 "mediocre, though a hundred times better than those 
 merely imitated from the work of others [meaning 
 himself]." When it was produced "the actors were 
 good," Goldoni tells us, "the music excellent, and the 
 ballets very lively, but nothing was said of the play. 
 I was behind the curtain," he adds, "sharing the ap- 
 plause that did not belong to me, and in order to 
 pacify myself, I said that this is not my style, mean- 
 while resolving to have my revenge with my next 
 comedy." Thus was he guided by popular acclaim 
 toward the road he should have been following. 
 
 His first sustained comedy is Don Juan Tenorlo; 
 or, The Debauchee (1736), an imitated play and 
 therefore, like his efforts in tragedy, opera, and ver- 
 sified comedy, merely a step in the dark. His ca- 
 reer as a painter of the foibles of mankind really 
 began two years later (1738) with The Man of the 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 139 
 
 World (L'Uomo dl mondo) ; 15 a play that in the 
 slang of our day would be called "The Man About 
 Town," or better still "The Good Fellow" ; Momolo, 
 its principal character, being, to quote his author, 
 "generous without profusion, gay without rashness; 
 fond of pleasure without ruining himself, and pre- 
 pared to bear a part in everything for the good of 
 society." His family name is Bisognosi; therefore 
 he is a son of Pantalone spending for his pleasure the 
 money his hard-fisted father has amassed in a word, 
 a typical rich man's son. 
 
 Although "a good fellow," Momolo is no degen- 
 erate like the Venetians who in 1797 paled at the 
 sound of Bonaparte's drums. He loves pleasure and 
 spends his father's hard-earned sequins freely, yet he 
 is a true descendant of his sturdy ancestors. Scorning 
 to wear a sword, he disarms a fop who threatens him 
 with one, and when he meets a pair of bravos who 
 have been paid to beat him, instead of fleeing, he 
 boldly accosts them, and by his genial manners induces 
 them to beat instead the very coward who has bribed 
 them. Momolo is indeed a true son of Venice in her 
 prime, and though the first of Goldoni's sustained 
 characters drawn from the life of his native city, de- 
 serving of a high place among them. 
 
 Possibly Mr. Bernard Shaw found in this comedy 
 the original of his Man and Superman, there being 
 
 15 This comedy was called originally Momolo Cortesan, Momolo, being 
 a diminutive of Girolamo or Jerome, but when Goldoni gave it to the 
 press he changed the name to L'Uomo dl mondo; the subtitle being 
 El Cortesan venezian. 
 
i 4 o GOLDONI 
 
 in it a lady named Eleonora, who pursues Momolo 
 throughout the three acts so diligently that, although 
 he declares he has no intention of relinquishing the 
 blessings of bachelorhood, he is finally entrapped in 
 matrimony by the unblushing assiduity of her decla- 
 rations of love, a result not accomplished, however, 
 until after he has discovered the little laundress, who 
 is the pastime of his idle moments, supping with the 
 poor but ardent admirer on whom she has bestowed 
 her real affections. 
 
 Smeraldina, this sophisticated laundress, is in- 
 cited to pluck good-natured Momolo by her brother 
 Arlecchino, 16 as shiftless a rogue as ever graced com- 
 edy. A street porter too lazy to work even when the 
 chance offers, Arlecchino gambles away the profits of 
 his sister's charms, and when Momolo agrees to pay 
 for her instruction at the ballet school he sends him 
 the bills for the fine clothes that will enable him to 
 swagger about the coffee-houses and gambling-dens 
 of Venice as the brother of a ballet dancer; while in 
 order that no one shall mistake his new quality, he 
 washes his hands for the first time in a year. Ludro, 
 too, a chevalier d' Industrie, who preys upon the 
 strangers in Venice, is another rogue quite as cosmo- 
 politan in his rascality, his type being met in every 
 large city. 
 
 A picture of actual life, true in characterization, 
 natural in dialogue, and containing all the germs of 
 
 16 Called Truffaldino when the play was printed, because Sacchi, who 
 played the part, was known as Truffaldino. 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 141 
 
 its author's greatness, The Man of the World was 
 written because Goldoni's inclinations were at last 
 fixed on comedy, with "good comedy" as his "proper 
 aim." "It was not reduced to dialogue at first," he 
 tells us, "the only part written out" being that of "the 
 principal actor," hence in its first form it was essen- 
 tially an improvised comedy in which three of the 
 masks, Arlecchino, Brighella, and II Dottore took 
 part. There are no lazzi, however, distinct from the 
 plot; moreover, it was a Venetian play in which the 
 Venetian characters speak the dialect of the city of 
 lagoons. 
 
 In his next comedy, The Prodigal (II Prodigo), 
 which is similar in treatment, Goldoni pictures life 
 on the banks of the Brenta, the Newport of Venice, 
 where "opulence explodes itself and mediocrity is 
 ruined," a young Venetian again named Momolo be- 
 ing the hero. Yet he is not the same Momolo who 
 figures in the preceding comedy, and although the 
 scene is the charmed spot where the spendthrift de- 
 scendants of the sturdy merchants who had glorified 
 Venice built rococo villas and factitious gardens 
 adorned with voluptuous statuary, our dramatist fails 
 to depict the luxurious country life of the idle rich 
 of Venice so well as in the later comedies he was to 
 place upon the Brenta's shaded banks. His second 
 Momolo, moreover, is no such worthy fellow as his 
 namesake the man of the world, but rather a witless 
 spender of an inheritance, tricked by his steward, and 
 
i 4 2 GOLDONI 
 
 twisted around the thumb of the widow he loves, 
 when she comes to his villa attended by her brother 
 and an adoring cousin of her late husband. 
 
 These two plays in which a Momolo appears are 
 both comedies of Venetian life, showing unmistak- 
 ably, albeit dimly, the first sign of Goldoni's genius. 
 After their production, the mask actors of Imer's 
 troupe became so importunate in demanding old-fash- 
 ioned comedies, in which their talents might shine, 
 that he was forced to write for them two scenari 
 styled respectively, Harlequin's Thirty-Two Misfor- 
 tunes (Le Trentadue disgrazie d'Arlecchino) and A 
 Hundred and Four Mishaps in a Single Night or, 
 the Critical Night (Cento e quattro accidenti in una 
 notte o la notte critica) . These scenari have not been 
 printed, but the first had, Goldoni tells us, "all the 
 success possible for an improvised piece," the admir- 
 ers of the mask comedy finding in his thirty-two mis- 
 fortunes "more discretion and common sense than in 
 former improvised comedies"; while the hundred 
 and four mishaps of the second scenario followed one 
 another in a way so complicated that this play "might 
 have been called the actors' test," so much did its suc- 
 cess depend upon the ability of its interpreters. 
 
 In order to imagine what the complicated action 
 of these lost scenari was like, it is necessary to examine 
 The Servant of Two Masters (II Servitore di due 
 padroni), the one among Goldoni's extant plays most 
 thoroughly in the spirit of the Improvised Comedy. 
 In this piece, written five years later than the lost 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 143 
 
 scenari, Arlecchino 17 appears in his true guise of a 
 blunderhead who complicates the plot by his stupidi- 
 ties. Pantalone, too, is the dotard of the Improvised 
 Comedy rather than the wise Venetian merchant 
 Goldoni presented so frequently at a later day; while 
 II Dottore is merely the blustering spouter of maca- 
 ronic Latin made familiar by generations of mask 
 actors. The lovers, Florindo and Beatrice, love and 
 sigh in the old-fashioned way; the complicated plot, 
 too, with its deft intrigue and rapid movement, is the 
 counterpart of an improvised comedy plot tied to- 
 gether by Arlecchino's droll lazzl. 
 
 This play, so lacking in the qualities that distin- 
 guish its author, demonstrates more clearly, perhaps, 
 than any of his earlier pieces the noble advance he 
 made in his art when he forswore the hackneyed 
 methods of Improvised Comedy. It shows, be- 
 sides, in its rapid change of scene, his early disregard 
 of the conventional unity of place, a sane freedom of 
 construction he maintained whenever it suited his 
 purpose, and which he thus ably defends in The 
 Comic Theatre, his views being remarkably in ac- 
 cordance with the modern theory of the drama: 
 
 Aristotle began to write concerning comedy, but he did not 
 finish, and we have from him but a few imperfect fragments re- 
 garding it. In his Poetics he prescribed the unity of place for 
 tragedy; yet he did not mention comedy then. There are those 
 who maintain that his statements about tragedy must be interpreted 
 as referring to comedy also, and that if he had finished his treatise 
 
 17 Again called Truffaldino because the part was played by Sacchi, 
 known by that sobriquet. 
 
1 44 GOLDONI 
 
 on comedy, he would have prescribed the unity of place. But my 
 answer is, that if Aristotle were now alive, he would cancel this 
 obnoxious precept, because a thousand absurdities, a thousand 
 blunders and improprieties are caused by it. I distinguish two 
 kinds of comedy: pure comedies and comedies of intrigue. Pure 
 comedy can be written with the unity of place. Comedy of in- 
 trigue cannot be thus written without crudity and incongruity. 
 The ancients had not, like ourselves, a way to shift scenery, and 
 for that reason they observed the unities. We have always ob- 
 served the unity of place when the action occurs in the same city, 
 and all the more when it remains in the same house. . . . There- 
 fore, I conclude that if comedy with the unity of place can be 
 written without hair-splitting or unseemliness, it should be done; 
 but if on account of the unity of place absurdities have to be intro- 
 duced, it is better to change the scenes and observe the rules of 
 probability. 
 
 Five years before he wrote The Servant of Two 
 Masters, the play that has led to this digression, Gol- 
 doni took a decided step forward in his art with The 
 Bankruptcy (La Bancarotta) , the comedy that fol- 
 lowed the two scenari of mishaps he had written to 
 placate the mask actors of Imer's troupe. Here he 
 stood on firm ground, for although The Bankruptcy 
 presents the four Venetian masks, and, like The Man 
 of the World, was only partly written at the time of 
 its presentation, it is nevertheless a comedy of charac- 
 ter, inspired by the excellent moral purpose of expos- 
 ing financial trickery. Moreover, there is a certain 
 Balzacian realism in this play, Pantalone its princi- 
 pal character being like Cesar Birotteau, 18 the victim 
 of his own unthriftiness and extravagance. Yet far 
 from passing sleepless nights of repentance, this Ve- 
 
 18 Grandeur et decadence de Char Birotteau. 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 145 
 
 netian bankrupt bears his financial burdens so lightly 
 that no sooner is he freed from the menaces of his 
 creditors by the efforts of Dr. Lombardi, his friend 
 and legal adviser, than he gives a lavish party for 
 Clarice, an opera singer, and loses his 'last sequin at 
 cards to the bogus nobleman she cherishes. He is a 
 wicked old rake whose financial embarrassment is 
 caused by his own vices quite as much as by an utter 
 lack of business acumen. Selling his merchandise to 
 shady customers on credit, he is also robbed by his 
 clerk Truffaldino, while the cash that finds its way 
 across his counter is squandered upon Clarice and 
 other queans without the slightest remorse for the 
 wrong he thus does his worthy son, his flighty second 
 wife being almost as undeserving of pity as himself. 
 When Pantalone is enmeshed in the toils of the law 
 a second time, Dr. Lombardi forces him to place his 
 affairs in the hands of his son. Bidding farewell to 
 his family with scarcely a tinge of remorse, he goes 
 forth to rustication with no regret for the good times 
 he has had, but glad, rather, of their memory to cheer 
 his unregenerate old heart. Here vice, though pun- 
 ished, is unrepentant, a strange conclusion to a com- 
 edy by one who, "seeking nature everywhere," found 
 it "beautiful only when it furnished him with virtu- 
 ous models." 
 
 The Bankruptcy is crude in construction and often 
 slovenly in dialogue ; yet it is one of Goldoni's truest 
 comedies, peccable old men such as Pantalone being 
 plucked wherever the ballet flourishes. Moreover the 
 
146 GOLDONI 
 
 fact that its sermon is not preached didactically makes 
 its effect enduring, Pantalone being a ruthlessly drawn 
 picture of a wreck upon the sands of life, whose 
 weak, old, vice-ridden features haunt the reader long 
 after portraits less cruelly true have been forgotten. 
 Like The Man of the World, this comedy of financial 
 shortcomings contains the germs of Goldoni's great- 
 ness. Though less polished, it is truer to life than 
 The Clever Woman (La Donna di garbo), its suc- 
 cessor, a comedy wherein a girl of the people is 
 placed upon a pedestal so high that we must needs 
 crane our necks to see her likeness to humanity. 
 
 Though her father is a mere footman and her 
 mother a laundress, Bettina the heroine of this play is 
 the peer of any doctor of Padua in learning. More- 
 over, a girl as astute as she proves herself would not 
 be likely to be seduced by a flighty young student, 
 even though he promised to marry her. Her knowl- 
 edge of law and the humanities was acquired at 
 Pavia, Goldoni tells us, by listening to the learned 
 talk of the students when she delivered her mother's 
 laundry work at their doors, surely a charge upon 
 our credulity. She is a clever minx, however, 
 learned in the ways of the world as well as in book 
 lore, for when she is deserted by Florindo, her student 
 lover, she comes to Bologna and takes service as a 
 lady's maid in the household of his father, a promi- 
 nent lawyer of that town. There she schemes so suc- 
 cessfully to win the regard, not only of her master but 
 of his entire household that when Florindo comes 
 

 THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 147 
 
 home from Pavia, accompanied by a nobleman's 
 daughter disguised as a fellow-student, he finds Bet- 
 tina firmly entrenched in the hearts of his family, his 
 father having even gone so far as to ask her hand to 
 cheer his lonely old age. 
 
 In a debate held in order that Florindo may de- 
 monstrate the worth of his university training, Bettina 
 bombards him with such a fusillade of Latin phrases 
 that rather than betray his ignorance he admits that 
 a man of honour must keep a promise of marriage no 
 matter how it is made. Thinking Bettina's shaft is 
 directed at his own breast, the father publicly pro- 
 claims his intention of marrying her himself; 
 whereupon, the son, to prevent such a misalliance, 
 acknowledges that Bettina has been the dalliance of 
 his student days. Forced to confess that he had prom- 
 ised to marry her, he is forced also by the general re- 
 gard in which she is held to comply with the words of 
 his public admission that a man of honour should keep 
 such a promise. But Florindo has also promised to 
 marry Isabella, the girl who has eloped with him in 
 male attire. Luckily there is a young snob at hand 
 not averse to marrying a nobleman's daughter howso- 
 ever tarnished, especially when it is pointed out to 
 him that she is an heiress ; so Florindo gives his hand, 
 albeit reluctantly, to Bettina, the adroit girl who has 
 outwitted him, the comedy ending in her triumph. 
 
 Although The Clever Woman is distinctly inferior 
 in characterization and atmosphere to both The 
 Bankruptcy and The Man of the World, it is their 
 
148 GOLDONI 
 
 superior in dramatic construction and literary expres- 
 sion. Furthermore, it is the first of Goldoni's orig- 
 inal character comedies 19 in which the dialogue was 
 entirely written; therefore "it marks a notable step in 
 his development as a dramatist." From the elements 
 of the Improvised Comedy he had finally produced 
 a comedy of contemporary manners, in which the 
 comedians, though appearing in their masks and con- 
 ventional garb, spoke written dialogue, their lazzi 
 being, moreover, an element of the plot instead of 
 irrelevant horse-play. This is the form of most of 
 his Venetian comedies in Tuscan prose, only those in 
 dialect lacking all of the familiar masks, who in his 
 deft hands became truthful characters of Venetian 
 life. Their importance, however, he gradually cur- 
 tailed, and in his exotic comedies and his comedies in 
 verse he dispensed with them entirely. 
 
 Being the first of his character comedies built from 
 the elements of the Improvised Comedy, in which the 
 dialogue was entirely written, as well as the last 
 comedy he wrote for Imer's troupe, The Clever 
 Woman marks the close of the first period of 
 Goldoni's dramatic career. During this period of 
 essay he had learned by experimenting with tragedy, 
 tragi-comedy, opera, opera bouffe, versified comedy, 
 musical interludes, and improvised comedy, that only 
 when he wrote pure comedy were "all the applause, 
 all the hand-claps, all the bravos, for him alone." It 
 was a lesson well learnt. In his efforts to Italianize 
 
 19 Don Giovanni Tenorio was merely an adaptation. 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 149 
 
 the refined French comedy of his day, he wrote, there- 
 after, many a false and stilted play, yet seldom did he 
 court Melpomene again, Thalia being henceforth 
 chief mistress of his ambition. 
 
 After writing The Clever Woman, he left Venice 
 without seeing it produced, and finally settled at 
 Pisa, where although a practising lawyer, he did not 
 entirely abandon his connection with the stage, since 
 he wrote while there several comedies for music, 
 and two improvised comedies. The Servant of Two 
 Masters, one of the latter, has already been described; 
 the other was called Harlequin's Son Lost and Found 
 (II Figlio d' Arlecchino perduto e ritrovato). 
 Though its Parisian success many years later caused 
 him to be invited by Les Comediens du roi de la 
 troupe Itallenne, to visit Paris, Goldoni condemns 
 its lack of verisimilitude, it being in his opinion "little 
 better than the work of a schoolboy." 20 
 
 Returning to Venice during the summer of 1748 as 
 a professional playwright, he began the remarkable 
 period of his career that ended with his departure for 
 Paris in the spring of 1762. During these fourteen 
 years he wrote his best comedies and won enduring 
 fame. The play with which he made his new bow 
 to his fellow citizens 21 was a failure, while the two 
 that succeeded it were but partial successes. 22 Not 
 
 20 According to Giulio Caprin (op. cit.) Desboulmiets'sHistoire anecdo- 
 tique et raisonnee du theatre italien jusqu'b 1769, contains a resume of 
 this scenario. 
 
 21 Tonin bella grazia, o il Frappatore. 
 22 L'Uomo prudente and / Due gemelli venezlanl 
 
150 GOLDONI 
 
 until carnival time of that first season (1748-1749) 
 did he cast aside the antiquated methods of the past, 
 and present to his delighted fellow-townsmen the two 
 plays that first distinguish him as the creator of a na- 
 tional comedy. In The Artful Widow (La Vedova 
 scaltra), one of these epoch-marking comedies, he 
 paints in Tuscan prose a spirited picture of the cosmo- 
 politan society of Venice; in the other, called The 
 Respectable Girl (La Putta onorata), written in the 
 soft dialect of Venice, he stands forth as the dramatic 
 tribune of her people. Henceforth, whenever he was 
 not enticed away from his native genius by French 
 refinement, he was Venice's Gran Goldoni, true 
 painter of her sons and daughters, true spokesman of 
 her sentiments and passions. 
 
 To attain this fame he was obliged to tread a stony 
 path. Wearied by the antiquated and obscene lazzi 
 of the Improvised Comedy, the intelligent public of 
 Venice had become wedded to the melodrama of Zeno 
 and Metastasio ; therefore Goldoni was obliged to 
 create a following for the new comedy. Moreover^ 
 his actors were only wretched outcasts beyond the 
 social pale, whose voices, when their efforts failed to 
 please, were drowned by the hisses and catcalls of 
 ribald audiences. No Richelieu or Louis XIV sus- 
 tained him; yet this patient Venetian plunged cour- 
 ageously into the Herculean task of cleansing the 
 filthy comedy of his day. Making his theatre a 
 wholesome resort for his fellow-townsmen, he mir- 
 rored them truly there in the hope that his humorous 
 
THE PERIOD OF ESSAY 151 
 
 expositions of their vices and foibles might turn them 
 from their degeneracy back to the glory of their 
 ancestors. Since the brilliance of the Rinascimento 
 had waned, artistic truth had lain buried in arti- 
 ficiality and filth. When this pioneer of the Ris- 
 orgimento reached Venice in the autumn of 1748, he 
 had already unearthed the corpse his naturalism was 
 soon to bring to resurrection. 
 
V 
 
 FROM ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 
 
 WHEN the story of his wandering was ar- 
 rested, Goldohi was journeying, it will be 
 recalled, on horseback toward Tuscany 
 with the intention of familiarizing himself with the 
 Florentines and Siennese, whom he styled "the living 
 texts of pure Italian." His native speech being a 
 dialect, an acquaintance with the literary language 
 of Italy was necessary for the fulfilment of his ambi- 
 tion to create a written Italian comedy; his pilgrim- 
 age to Tuscany, therefore, was not so aimless as the 
 many roamings his vagabondizing instinct had here- 
 tofore inspired. The years he subsequently passed on 
 the banks of the Arno made him familiar with the 
 euphuism of literary Italy, as well as with its lan- 
 guage; for until he reached Tuscany he had not 
 breathed the scent-laden air of those rococo drawing- 
 rooms in which the femmes savantes of eighteenth 
 century Italy paid languishing court to its Trissotins 
 and Vadiuses. 
 
 Although the Italian literary coteries of his day 
 were even more vapid and affected than the French 
 societies of alcovistes and precieuses which Moliere 
 had satirized so scathingly during the previous cen- 
 
 152 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 153 
 
 tury, Goldoni does not appear to have realized that 
 the Arcadian Academy of Rome and its many colo- 
 nies were merely the lazarets of the epidemic, aptly 
 described by Dr. William Roscoe Thayer as "a 
 Phceban influenza whose victims sneezed in 
 rhythm." 1 On the contrary, in his memoirs he shows 
 the Arcadian Academy considerable deference, and 
 when in one of his comedies 2 he directs his satire 
 against its pretentions, the rep*roof he administers is 
 but a gentle fillip compared to the cruel lashing Mo- 
 liere bestowed upon the euphuists of France. 
 
 As the reader may never have sauntered into that 
 remote haunt of verbiage and poetastry, the Arcadian 
 Academy, "Papa Goldoni' f as the Venetians still 
 tenderly style him shall for the moment be left 
 journeying across the Apennines with good Nicoletta 
 on a nag beside him, while we turn aside to enter the 
 Parrhasian Grove of the Arcadians for a glimpse of 
 their departed splendour. 
 
 The period of their literary history following the 
 grand manner (forma splendida) of the cinquecento 
 the Italians call the period of exaggeration (periodo 
 dell' esagerazione) . Chronologically it corresponds 
 to those brilliant years in France when the classical 
 ideal inaugurated by Malherbe was nationalized by 
 Corneille and his great contemporaries; yet in Italy 
 not one notable man of letters appeared to grace it. 
 In the realm of science Galileo Galilei was a genius, 
 and Guido Reni was far from contemptible in paint- 
 
 1 The Dawn of Italian Independence. 2 // Poeta fanatico. 
 
GOLDONI 
 
 ing; yet languid Marini, who gave preciosity to 
 France, was the most widely known poet of Italy dur- 
 ing the seventeenth century, while Adriani and Mar- 
 telli were the principal dramatists. The period of 
 exaggeration, therefore, might as fittingly be styled 
 the period of literary death. Indeed, literature be- 
 came so turgid that its feeble heart could no longer 
 give it blood : hence, like a man with dropsy, it per- 
 ished of its own distension and lay dead until Metas- 
 tasio, Goldoni, Alfieri, and Parini breathed between 
 its cold lips the life that brought it to resurrection. 
 Meanwhile, the Arcadian Academy had risen to 
 power, held sway, and in its turn was dying a linger- 
 ing death. 
 
 This strange institution was founded in Rome dur- 
 ing the last decade of the seventeenth century a time 
 when Spanish tyranny and papal domination had left 
 Italy a prey to brutality and fanaticism. In the 
 words of Giuseppe Finzi, a modern Italian commen- 
 tator : 3 
 
 All the highest ideals that are wont to furnish and maintain the 
 right of citizenship were then extinguished; oppressed and bled 
 to the point of exhaustion, the people were stagnating, and the well- 
 to-do and educated class was selfishly and recklessly endeavour- 
 ing to enjoy the present as best it might, hiding beneath a hypo- 
 critical display of formality and manner and an artificial, supersti- 
 tious piety, the corruption that was consuming it, mothlike, from 
 within. Filled with vanity and conceit, the nobles embellished 
 themselves in splendour and arrogance, vied with each other in ex- 
 travagance, pomp, and gallantry, pastured themselves on flattery 
 and base homage, and thus upheld, like their Spanish conquerors, 
 ^Lezioni di storia della letteratura italiana. 
 

 ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 155 
 
 their preeminence over the other social classes. Both idle and 
 lazy, they avoided applying thought and labour to anything serious, 
 useful, or truly noble. 
 
 It was a time when poets earned their daily bread 
 by writing laudatory odes, no patrician wedding being 
 held, no well-born nun taking the veil, no noble's 
 child being christened, no cardinal chosen from the 
 aristocracy without reams of verse being penned in 
 honour of the event; and when there were no auspici- 
 ous occasions to laud, there were books of vapid 
 rhymes to be dedicated in hyperbole to patronizing 
 noblemen or vainglorious prelates. 
 
 When this seventeenth century, so lumpish in Italy, 
 so alert in France, was drawing to a close, a group of 
 vain pedants who had been enjoying in Rome the 
 hospitality of ex-Queen Christina of Sweden were 
 forced by the death of their freakish patroness to seek 
 a new asylum. For lack of a patrician abode in 
 which to forgather, they met, fourteen in number, one 
 balmy spring morning of the year 1690 in the mead- 
 ows behind the castle of Sant' Angelo, known as the 
 Prati di Castello. While these apostles of fustian 
 were improvising verses in the shade of sighing elms 
 and vociferously applauding one another, one of them 
 became so enthusiastic over the pastoral nature of the 
 scene that he exclaimed, "It seems to me that to-day 
 we have revived Arcadia." This sentiment caused 
 his comrades to vow that they would keep Arcadia 
 alive ; whereupon the Arcadian Academy (L'Accade- 
 mia dell' Arcadia] was instituted, the first step in its 
 
156 GOLDONI 
 
 development being the adoption of a name by each 
 member suitable to his state as an Arcadian shepherd ; 
 the next, the election of a Gusto de Generate, or shep- 
 herd of the flock. For this honour Alfesibeo Cario 
 was chosen, that being the Arcadian name of the 
 Abate Crescimbeni, vainest, dullest, yet most persis- 
 tent of the Academicians. The opposing candidate 
 was Gravina, known in Arcadia as Opico Erimanteo. 
 This jurist and critic, who was destined to befriend 
 Metastasio, then unborn, became so chagrined by his 
 defeat that he sulked in his tent, thence to lead an un- 
 successful revolt against the rule of Crescimbeni, a 
 crabbed priest with "a brain half wood and half lead" 
 and a crooked nose, which inspired the nickname of 
 Naslca. Meanwhile, because of its exclusiveness, 
 all literary and social Rome clamoured for admission 
 to the new academy. 
 
 Arcadia was established as a republic of letters, 
 each sheep being as good as its neighbour. Within 
 its gates parrot-beaked Crescimbeni piped metaphor- 
 ically on the syrinx, the Academy's symbol, whilst the 
 cardinals, priests, jurists, nobles, and plebeian literati 
 who composed his flock gambolled in black broad- 
 cloth smocks and full-bottomed wigs with crook-bear- 
 ing shepherdesses who in real life were portly duch- 
 esses, mayhap. When the untoward exercise made 
 them lose breath, they fell upon their knees to spout 
 languishing verses on the havoc Cupid had wrought. 
 Meanwhile a chef de cuisine would prepare bucolic 
 goodies to be served in a rustic bower. 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 157 
 
 Arcadia was serious in purpose, however, its object 
 being "to exterminate bad taste." It had, besides, a 
 weighty code of laws penned by Gravina before his 
 revolt, and, in the person of Crescimbeni, its Custode 
 Generale, an indefatigable chronicler who wrote not 
 only its history voluminously, but also its rules for 
 the composition of every imaginable poetic form, 
 from the maggiolate and the motti to the contradisper- 
 ate and the cobole; yet, earnest though its intentions 
 were, its members, while "pursuing bad taste even in- 
 to fortresses and villas least known and least sus- 
 pected," failed to realize that its real abiding place 
 was Arcadia itself. The official home of the Acad- 
 emy was known as the Mew (Serbatoio), "a very lit- 
 tle thing," as a contemporary remarks, "filled with 
 very little things, in which the only large thing was 
 Crescimbeni's nose." After its members had in- 
 augurated Olympic games in his honour, John V, the 
 profligate King of Portugal, presented them in 1726 
 with a triangular strip of land on the Janiculum, 
 which, on being laid out in flower beds and terraces, 
 and styled the Parrhasian Grove (Bosco Parrasio), 
 became Arcadia's summer residence. 
 
 Meanwhile the men of the seventeenth century were 
 dying and those of the eighteenth were taking their 
 places. There was less Spanish stagnation or papal 
 nepotism in Italy then, and more French levity and 
 tolerance, but Arcadia still flattered princes, whilst 
 its pedants gloried in disputes, and its poets, such as 
 Frugoni, whose gorgeous nonsense gave the word 
 
158 GOLDONI 
 
 frugoneria to the Italian language, dissipated their 
 talents in high-flown trash. 
 
 But the talent most misapplied of all, at least to the 
 northern mind, was that of the Cavalier Bernardino 
 Perfetti, greatest of the improvvisatori and a man 
 who displayed his undoubted ability in a spectacular 
 way. It is precisely because he could extemporize 
 any given amount of verse on any given subject that 
 his performances were theatrical rather than poetic. 
 He gave so great an impression of genius, however, 
 when he came to Rome in 1725, that the Pope, after a 
 committee of twelve Arcadians had judged him 
 worthy of the honour, awarded him the crown of the 
 Capitol that had once adorned Petrarch's brow. 
 
 Shortly after this profanation of literary greatness 
 took place amid the blare of trumpets and the firing 
 of a hundred mortars, hook-nosed Crescimbeni died 
 (March 8, 1728). He was succeeded in the post of 
 Custode Generale by his friend and sacerdotal col- 
 league, the Abate Lorenzini. Republican Arcadia had 
 developed under the former's consulship offshoots in 
 other cities, but under Lorenzini it became an empire, 
 charters for colonies galore being granted by him in 
 the Parrhasian Grove, until every Italian town of any 
 ambition whatsoever boasted a branch academy: an 
 extension of Arcadian power made easy by the na- 
 tional aptitude for social organization. Although Ar- 
 cadia thus expanded, it did so at the expense of its 
 original ideals. Ceasing to be an exclusive academy 
 for the cultivation of literature, it became the Italian 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 159 
 
 Great World of the day, a membership in it or one of 
 its colonies being a sine qua non to social position. 
 Yet the Academy, by developing social bonds between 
 prominent Italians in different parts of the land, must 
 have been an early factor though doubtless a remote 
 one in the unification of Italy. 
 
 Such was the state of Arcadia when Goldoni en- 
 tered Tuscany in the spring of 1744, a f ter an unevent- 
 ful journey across the Apennines. In Florence he 
 passed four "truly pleasurable months," enjoying the 
 society of men of science and letters. Hearing that 
 Perfetti was to appear in Sienna on Assumption Day 
 before the Academy of the Stupified (Intronati), he 
 set out with good Nicoletta for the Chianti hills. On 
 reaching Sienna he and his faithful companion were 
 admitted as strangers to seats in the Academy. 
 
 "Perfetti occupied a sort of pulpit," Goldoni tells 
 us, "where he sang for a quarter of an hour strophes 
 in the style of Pindar." "Nothing could have been 
 more beautiful or more astonishing," our dramatist 
 continues ; "he was by turns a Petrarch, a Milton, and 
 a Rousseau: he was Pindar himself!" Indeed, he 
 had been brought so completely under Perfetti's spell, 
 that he paid him a visit of homage on the day follow- 
 ing the great improvisator's exhibition of his art, their 
 acquaintance "leading to a number of other visits." 
 The Siennese society to which Goldoni was thus in- 
 troduced proved delightful, "every gaming party be- 
 ing preceded by a literary conversation"; but he 
 longed to see Tuscany; therefore he left delectable 
 
160 GOLDONI 
 
 Sienna and fared to Volterra, where he crawled into 
 catacombs, and "getting out finally, thanks to heaven," 
 promised himself "never to return." He halted next 
 at Pisa, where he says he intended to stay only a few 
 days; yet he remained some years, 4 a chance visit to 
 the local Arcadian colony he thus describes being re- 
 sponsible for this complete alteration of his plans : 
 
 The first few days after my arrival at Pisa, I amused myself by 
 seeing such curiosities as were worth while . . . but I began to 
 be bored, because I knew nobody. Strolling one day toward the 
 Castle, I saw a large gateway where carriages were waiting and 
 people entering. Glancing within I beheld a vast courtyard with 
 a garden at one end in which a number of people were seated be- 
 neath a sort of bower. I approached nearer and seeing a man in 
 livery who had the air and graces of a functionary of importance, 
 I asked him to whom the house belonged and the reason why so 
 many people were gathered there. This very polite and fairly 
 well-instructed servant was not long in satisfying my curiosity. 
 "The assembly which you see," he said, "is a colony of the Roman 
 Arcadia, called the Alpheusan Colony (Colonia Alfea) after a 
 celebrated Greek river that watered the ancient city of Pisa in 
 Elis." I asked if I might enter. "By all means," said the porter, 
 who accompanied me himself to the garden gate, where he pre- 
 sented me to a servant of the academy, who gave me a seat in the 
 assembly. I listened, heard both good and bad, and applauded all 
 equally. 
 
 Everybody looked at me, and appeared anxious to know who I 
 was. A wish to satisfy this curiosity took hold of me, so calling 
 the man who had given me my seat and who happened to be near 
 by, I begged him to ask the chairman of the meeting whether a 
 stranger might be permitted to express in verse the satisfaction he 
 had experienced. The chairman announced my desire aloud, 
 whereupon the meeting assented. 
 
 I had in mind a sonnet I had composed in my youth for a 
 
 4 He reached Pisa in September, 1744, and left in April, 1748. 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 161 
 
 similar occasion. Quickly changing a few words, I recited my 
 fourteen lines in a tone and with a vocal inflexion that gave zest 
 to both sentiment and rhyme. The sonnet appeared to have been 
 composed on the spot and was heartily applauded. I do not know 
 whether the meeting was to have lasted longer, but everyone got 
 up and they all crowded about me. 
 
 In th;s agreeable way Goldoni entered Arcadia and 
 there forswore Thalia again, not for the worship of 
 Pan and Artemis, deities of that pastoral land, but to 
 bow once more to Themis, goddess of the law; for 
 when the shepherds of the Alpheusan colony learned 
 that he was a briefless Venetian barrister, they begged 
 him to resume his legal gown, promising him the 
 meanwhile "both clients and books." Any foreign 
 licentiate being able, as he was assured, to practise at 
 the Pisan bar, he was persuaded "to become a civil 
 and criminal advocate," and the Pisans being "as good 
 as their word," he soon had "more causes than he 
 could undertake," most of which he wisely endeav- 
 oured to settle out of court by "demonstrating the folly 
 of litigation." 
 
 But "the devil," as he declares, "sent a theatrical 
 company to Pisa." "Its actors were too bad" for him 
 to think of entrusting a character comedy to their 
 tender mercies, yet he could not resist the temptation 
 of letting them perform The Hundred and Four Mis- 
 haps in a Single Night, the improvised comedy Imer's 
 comedians had played successfully about five years 
 before. Hearing a Pisan citizen in a coffee-house 
 calling on heaven the next day "to preserve him from 
 
i62 GOLDONI 
 
 the toothache and a hundred and four mishaps," 
 Goldoni became so mortified that he resolved "not to 
 go near the comedians again or think of comedy"; 
 therefore he "redoubled his juridical ardour, and won 
 three lawsuits within the month," from one of which, 
 a criminal case, he "derived infinite honour." 
 
 This last concerned the fate of a young man of good 
 family who had forced the lock of a neighbour's door 
 and had robbed him. He was an only son, it appears, 
 and his sisters were unmarried, circumstances that in- 
 spired our lawyer to save him from the galleys. 
 After "satisfying the complaining party," he changed 
 the lock on his door so that the key of his client's 
 room would fit it. Thus he made it appear that the 
 defendant, after entering the apartment he had 
 robbed, by mistake instead of deliberately, had been 
 suddenly tempted by money he saw spread out before 
 him; a ruse whereby the court was induced to impose 
 a short term in jail, instead of the dreaded sentence 
 to the galleys. 
 
 The culprit's family was "very well satisfied" with 
 him, Goldoni assures us, "and the criminal judge com- 
 plimented him." Again he had begun auspiciously 
 the practice of the law. At Pisa there were, however, 
 no rich old maids or bewitching nieces to ensnare 
 him; yet he was enticed from legal paths by his old 
 friend, the comedian Sacchi, who wrote him for a 
 comedy. Working "by day at the bar and by night 
 at his play," he finished The Servant of Two Masters 
 and despatched it to Venice, closing his door the 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 163 
 
 meanwhile at nightfall and going no more to the Ar- 
 cadians' coffee-house. When he returned to the 
 pastoral fold, he was "reproached for his neglect of 
 poetry," but given nevertheless by the Custode of the 
 Alpheusan Colony a diploma of full Arcadian mem- 
 bership, issued by the parent academy in Rome. 
 Polisseno Fegeio was the bucolic name bestowed 
 upon him and he was invested with the Phegeian 
 Fields. "We Arcadians," he exclaims, "are rich, as 
 you may perceive, dear reader. We possess lands in 
 Greece: we water them with the sweat of our brows 
 in order that we may gather laurel branches, but the 
 Turks sow them with grain and plant them with 
 vines, and they laugh at both our titles and our 
 songs." 
 
 Although by his own confession he was "never a 
 good poet," he continued to write "sonnets, odes, and 
 other pieces of lyricism" for the meetings of the 
 academy. In the meantime, Sacchi, who sent him a 
 present which he says he did not expect, de- 
 manded another comedy, and he had no peace 
 of mind until he had despatched to Venice the 
 play 5 the Parisian success of which, seventeen years 
 later, inspired the Italian actors of the French capital 
 to offer him a professional engagement. 
 
 His intention in all probability was to settle per- 
 manently in Pisa, practising law, making professional 
 trips to Florence or Lucca, and satisfying his natural 
 desires now and then by writing occasional comedies 
 
 5 // Figlio d'Arlecchino perduto e ritrovato. 
 
1 64 GOLDONI 
 
 or sonnets to be read before the meetings of the local 
 Arcadians. He had "causes in every court and clients 
 in every rank of life," he assures us, and he thought 
 "the whole town was for him," until seeking govern- 
 mental preferment, he learned that although he had 
 "become naturalized in the hearts of individuals, in 
 the opinion of the community he was still an alien." 
 In the hope of getting at least some of the "oil, corn, 
 and money they brought," he sought all the sinecures 
 a late Pisan lawyer had enjoyed as the attorney of 
 several religious bodies, but obtained none of them, 
 because, so he says, he had been in Pisa but two years 
 and a half, whereas his competitors had "for four 
 years at least been taking steps to succeed the de- 
 ceased." 
 
 "Out of twenty posts," he laments, "not one for me!" 
 This was a disappointment that made him look upon 
 his profession as a "casual and precarious manner of 
 obtaining a livelihood." Whilst in this morose mood 
 his chamber was invaded one morning by a stranger 
 whose glib tongue fatefully turned the course of his 
 life into its natural channel and made the obtaining 
 of his livelihood indeed precarious. His own words 
 shall describe this propitious meeting: 
 
 One day when I was very deep in thought, a stranger who 
 wished to speak to me was announced. I saw crossing the hall a 
 man nearly six feet in height and proportionally large and fat, who 
 had in his hand a cane and a round hat of English shape. 
 
 He entered my office with measured steps. I arose. Making a 
 picturesque gesture by way of telling me not to disturb myself, 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 165 
 
 he approached. I asked him to be seated. This is our conversa- 
 tion: 
 
 "Sir," he said, "I have not the honour of being known by you, 
 but you probably know my father and uncle in Venice ; I am your 
 very humble servant Darbes (sic)." Q 
 
 "What ! Monsieur Darbes, son of the postmaster at Friuli, the 
 lad believed to be lost, who was searched for so much, and mourned 
 for so greatly?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, that prodigal son, who has not yet fallen on his knees 
 before his father." 
 
 "Why do you postpone giving him that consolation?" 
 
 "My family, my relatives, or my country will never see me ex- 
 cept crowned with laurels." 
 
 "What is your calling, sir?" 
 
 Arising, he patted his rotundity, and in a tone of pride mingled 
 with facetiousness, said: "Sir, I am an actor." 
 
 "Every talent," said I, "is estimable, provided the possessor is 
 able to distinguish himself." 
 
 "I am," he answered, "the Pantaloon of a troupe now at Leg- 
 horn. I am not the most inconspicuous of my comrades, and the 
 public is not loath to crowd to the plays in which my character ap- 
 pears. Medebac, our manager, travelled a long way to unearth 
 me; I do not dishonour my relatives, my country, or my pro- 
 fession, and, sir, without boasting (slapping his belly once more), 
 Garelli 7 is dead ; Darbes has taken his place." 
 
 I intended to compliment him, but he threw himself into a 
 comic attitude that made me burst into laughter, and so prevented 
 me from continuing. 
 
 "It is not through vainglory," he proceeded, "that I have paraded 
 the advantages I enjoy in my profession. But I am an actor and I 
 make myself known to an author of whom I have need." 
 
 "You have need of me?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; I know you by reputation: you are as courteous as 
 you are skilful, and you will not refuse." 
 
 6 Cesare D'Arbes, born in Venice about 1710, died in that city in 1778. 
 "The greatest Pantaloon of his time," says Luigi Rasi (op. cit.). 
 
 7 A Venetian Pantaloon, known as // Pantalone eloquente, who died in 
 1740. 
 
1 66 GOLDONI 
 
 "I have work to do; I can't manage it." 
 
 "I respect your work; you may write the play at your leisure, 
 when the spirit moves you." 
 
 Seizing my snuff-box while he was talking, and taking a pinch 
 of snuff, he dropped a few gold ducats into it, and closing it, he 
 threw it on the table with one of those pieces of stage business 
 that seem to hide the very thing you would be glad to have dis- 
 covered. Not wishing to lend myself to such a jest, I opened my 
 snuff-box. 
 
 "Pray, don't be angry," he said ; "it is merely a payment on ac- 
 count for the paper." 
 
 I tried to give him back his money, but posturing and bowing, he 
 got up, backed himself toward the door and went out. 
 
 After asking himself what should be done under 
 the circumstances, Goldoni took what seemed to him 
 "the better," and to us, the more pleasing course in 
 that he informed D'Arbes that he would write the 
 play desired. The Pantaloon replied that "a 
 comedy by Goldoni would be the sword and buckler 
 with which he would challenge all the theatres of 
 the world." He had bet a hundred gold ducats with 
 his manager, he said, that he would obtain a comedy 
 by Goldoni and he concluded a fulsome letter by say- 
 ing that he wished his role to be that of u a young 
 man without a mask drawn in the manner of the 
 principal character of an old art comedy, called 
 Pantaloon, a Fop (Pantalon Paroncin). In accord- 
 ance with this suggestion Goldini penned "within 
 three weeks" Elegant Anthony (Tonin bella grazia), 
 and carried the manuscript to Leghorn himself. 8 
 
 8 Saverio Francesco Bartoli, a contemporary Thespian, known as the 
 Actor's Plutarch, published at Padua in 1782 a work entitled Notizie 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 167 
 
 There he read it to D'Arbes who "appeared well 
 satisfied, and with many ceremonies, bows, and in- 
 terrupted words" he gave our author the amount of 
 the bet he had won from his manager, whereupon 
 "in order to avoid receiving thanks," he fled under 
 the pretext of showing the new comedy to the latter. 
 
 While Goldoni was awaiting dinner in his lonely 
 room at an inn, Medebac, 9 the manager, called, ac- 
 companied by D'Arbes and, after "overwhelming 
 him with politeness," invited him to dine. His soup 
 being served, the dramatist declined, but D'Arbes 
 and Medebac dragged him away, and on the man- 
 ager's threshold they were met by Madame Mede- 
 bac, "a young, pretty, and well-built actress," whom 
 Goldoni found "as estimable in manners as in talent." 
 
 After "a very respectable family dinner served 
 with the utmost order and neatness," he was taken to 
 the theatre, where out of compliment to him Griselda 
 
 istorlche de' comici italiani, che fiorirono intorno all' anno MDL fino 
 a' giorni presenti, in which is presented a hitherto unpublished sonnet 
 by Goldoni, as well as a letter written by him to Cesare D'Arbes at 
 Leghorn and dated at Pisa, August 13, 1745. In this letter Goldoni 
 says that the new comedy (manifestly Elegant Anthony] "is not yet 
 clear of the meteors that surround it," while he asks to be remembered 
 to Medebac, manager of the troupe in which D'Arbes was playing. As 
 Goldoni states in his Memoirs that he had been in Pisa two years and 
 a half at the time he asked for the sinecures of the dead Pisan advocate 
 (or March, 1747), and as he places D'Arbes's visit to him subsequent to 
 that event, the date of the letter to that actor is manifestly a misprint 
 for 1747. See Vol. II, edition of the Municipality of Venice. 
 
 9 Girolamo Medebac (or Medebach, originally Metembach), born at 
 Rome, about 1706, died subsequently to Dec. 1781, when Bartoli recorded 
 that "he was not far from his ninetieth year, and in enviable health." 
 L. Rasi (op. cit.) accords him the distinction of being "the greatest man- 
 ager of the XVIIIth century, a large part, if not all, of his celebrity being 
 due to the artistic bonds that united him to Carlo Goldoni." 
 
1 68 GOLDONI 
 
 was substituted for the improvised comedy that had 
 been announced. This play "was not entirely his 
 work," he confesses ; nevertheless "his self-love was 
 flattered." He was "better pleased," however, on 
 the following day when The Clever Woman, "hither- 
 to his favourite comedy," was presented. Although 
 he had written this play before his departure from 
 Venice, he had never seen it played. It was "a 
 pleasure," he acknowledges, "to see it so well per- 
 formed," and he complimented Madame Medebac 
 and her husband upon their acting, "the natural 
 sweetness" of the former, "her pathetic voice, her 
 intelligence, and her histrionism" raising her in his 
 estimation "above all the actresses he had ever 
 known." 
 
 A few days after his vanity had been thus doubly 
 flattered, Medebac, to whom he had confided his 
 "mortifying experiences in Pisa," made him the 
 dramaturgic offer that brought him back to Thalia's 
 shrine, there to remain a constant votary throughout 
 his days. Medebac proposed leasing a theatre in 
 Venice for a term of five or six years, provided that 
 Goldoni would contract to serve as its playwright 
 during a like period. "It required no great effort 
 to turn him toward comedy," says the latter; so a 
 provisional contract was forthwith drawn up. But 
 good Nicoletta had gone to Genoa to visit her 
 family, and though "he knew her docility, Goldoni 
 owed her," he assures us, "both esteem and 
 friendship," wherefore he returned to Pisa to 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 169 
 
 await her arrival and approval before sending 
 his signature to Leghorn. 10 This he did in Sep- 
 tember, I747, 11 although he did not join Mede- 
 bac's forces until April of the following year, 
 six months' time having been given him in which to 
 arrange his affairs. His muse and his pen were 
 again at the disposal of an individual. "A French 
 author," he confesses, "would think it a singular en- 
 gagement for a man of letters, who ought to enjoy 
 liberty," but in Italy there were "no court pensions 
 and royal gifts," therefore he was content with his 
 lot, for "his plays were to be accepted without being 
 read, and paid for in advance." 
 
 Before leaving Tuscany, he revisited Florence, 
 and there, at a seance of the Arcadian colony, known 
 as The Academy of the Apathists, he witnessed an 
 absurd literary rite which consisted in propounding 
 abstruse questions to a child of ten, called a Sibillone, 
 or great Sibyl. As the infant oracle was required to 
 reply by a single word, the answers, as may readily 
 be imagined, were usually devoid of sense; there- 
 fore an academician was appointed to interpret them, 
 a task requiring considerable discursive agility. On 
 the occasion of Goldoni's visit, the question asked 
 was: "Why do women weep more readily than 
 
 10 L. T. Belgrano suggests that Goldoni went to Genoa at this time, 
 a supposition founded on Goldoni's statement in his dedication of La 
 Donna sola to Agostino Connio to the effect that he had seen his father- 
 in-law twice. This is merely a guess, however, like the surmise of 
 Von Lohner that Goldoni sent his signature to Venice instead of to 
 Leghorn. 
 
 11 In his memoirs Goldoni says 1746, but this is more veneto. 
 
170 GOLDONI 
 
 men?" and the "great Sibyl's" answer was the mean- 
 ingless word "straws."" Yet a lusty abbe discoursed 
 at length to demonstrate that "nothing could have 
 been more decisive or satisfactory" than the oracle's 
 answer, the trend of his argument being that as straw 
 is the most frail of plant substances, and woman more 
 frail than man, frailty is the cause of woman's tears. 
 
 To what precious depths had Arcadia sunkl 
 Yet, sane Goldoni was gulled to a considerable de- 
 gree by this hocus-pocus, for he avers that "to dis- 
 play more erudition and precision in a matter that 
 seemed so insusceptible of it, was quite impossible. 
 Luckily his trunks had reached the Florentine cus- 
 tom-house ; therefore he was able to escape from this 
 Arcadian fool-trap before its vapid air had entirely 
 vitiated his inborn common sense. 
 
 Proceeding to Mantua, he joined Medebac there 
 and with faithful Nicoletta passed a month "com- 
 fortably lodged" in the house of a retired soubrette, 
 who fortunately for his peace of mind had reached 
 the age of eighty- five. The climate of marshy Man- 
 tua, however, did not agree with him, and his time 
 was passed mostly in bed. He managed neverthe- 
 less to finish a couple of comedies "with which 
 Medebac appeared satisfied," whereupon he was "per- 
 mitted to go to Modena," where he passed the sum- 
 mer. "Toward the end of July" Medebac and his 
 troupe arrived in Modena and Goldoni gave him 
 a third comedy. 12 In September in company with 
 
 12 Possibly, as Carlo Borghi suggests, La Vedova scaltra. 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 171 
 
 an untried aggregation of actors he reached Venice 
 to tempt metropolitan fate in the Teatro Sant' An- 
 gelo, the playhouse Medebac had leased. 
 
 He had been away from the campielli and the 
 canals of his beloved birthplace for five long years, 
 and he found "a great satisfaction" in returning to 
 "the land that had always been dear to him." His 
 doting mother who, despite his vagabondizing, "had 
 never complained of him," dwelt with her sister in 
 the Court of St. George, near Saint Mark's, 13 and 
 there he and good Nicoletta went to live. While 
 he is in the full enjoyment of this domestic peace, 
 let us take a glimpse of the theatrical world of Ven- 
 ice, to which he had returned a better and more val- 
 iant dramatist than he was when Giuseppe Imer 
 had been his manager and the San Samuele the scene 
 of his prentice endeavours. 
 
 Whenever an ox-drawn chariot of Thespis lumbered 
 into Mestre or Fusina after its summer tour on terra 
 firma, and the wan actresses huddled beneath its 
 canvas awning saw the campanile of St. Mark's and 
 other graceful towers they loved outlined against the 
 autumn sky, they knew that rest and joy were close 
 at hand, for Venice was the players' paradise; its 
 horizon, in the apt words of Philippe Monnier, 
 "seeming to be bounded by footlights, a sky border, 
 and a prompter's box." 14 Too light-hearted to read, 
 its people made plays their literature, and, after their 
 
 13 San Giorgio de' Greci, much nearer to St. Mark's than San Giorgio 
 degli Schiavoni: Guido Mazzoni, Memorie di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 14 Venue au XVllle siecle. 
 
1 72 GOLDONI 
 
 carnival pranks, their chief diversion. New plays 
 were public events, the merits of rival dramatists a 
 matter for general debate and even altercation; for 
 when, as will be seen, Goldoni and the Abate Chiari 
 became rivals, all Venice, from patrician to gondo- 
 lier, from great lady to handmaid, gestured and 
 shrilled their predilections, whilst critics spoiled 
 more perfectly good paper than was wasted when 
 the pedants of France were yelping at the heels of 
 Moliere. 
 
 The Venetian stage, as an organized entity, dates 
 from the sixteenth century, at the beginning of which 
 Thalia came to the city of lagoons and drove the re- 
 ligious plays and the tragedies of the pedants from 
 that lightsome town. 15 But there were no permanent 
 playhouses then, trestles for a performance being 
 placed either in the piazza or the palace of some 
 rich Morosini, Trevisan, or Mocenigo. In 1527 
 Francesco Cherea, a favourite of Pope Leo X, who 
 had escaped from Rome during the sack, produced 
 Latin comedies in Venice, as well as some which he 
 had written himself ; and at about the same time An- 
 gelo Beolco, who was known as // Ruzzante, crossed 
 the lagoons from Padua, his birthplace, with dialect 
 farces which he and his masked comrades performed 
 in patrician halls so excellently that he was styled 
 the new Roscius. 16 
 
 15 A decree of the Signoria, Dec. 29, 1509, indicates that comedy 
 had begun to be performed in Venice only a short time previously. 
 D'Ancona: op. cit. 
 
 16 Pompeo Molmenti: La Storia di Venezia nella vita 'privata. 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 173 
 
 Although Palladio built in 1565 a wooden thea- 
 tre at Venice, fourteen years before he began at Vi- 
 cenza the construction of the Teatro Olimpico, it 
 was only a temporary affair, the first permanent 
 Venetian playhouse not being constructed until this 
 great architect had been dead fully a quarter of a 
 century. 17 During the generations that followed 
 Beolco and Palladio, play-giving and theatre-build- 
 ing flourished so congenially in Venice that when 
 Goldoni reached the city with Medebac's troupe, 
 seven regular playhouses more than obtained in 
 Paris then and more than are to be found in Venice 
 now were in operation. Each was named after the 
 titular saint of the parish in which it was situated, 
 that of San Cassiano being the oldest, although the 
 San Giovanni Crisostomo, where the lyrical tra- 
 gedies of Metastasio and Zeno were given, was the 
 most important of the playhouses named by Gol- 
 doni in his memoirs. 18 Three of these were devoted 
 to comedy and at each of them he was in turn em- 
 ployed, first at the San Samuele when Imer was his 
 manager, then at the Sant' Angelo under Medebac, 
 and finally at the San Luca, the property of two 
 
 17 Palladio died in 1580. The San Cassiano, oldest of Venetian 
 theatres, was built early in the seventeenth century and rebuilt in 1637, 
 after its destruction by fire. Pompeo Molmenti: op. cit. 
 
 18 Goldoni says: "In Italy the playhouses (salles de spectacles} are 
 called theatres and in Venice there are seven, each bearing the name 
 of the titular saint of its parish." Apparently he refers only to theatres 
 regularly operated throughout the theatrical season by professional com- 
 panies, as there were at that time fully fourteen theatres in Venice of 
 one sort or another, the number in the previous century having totalled 
 eighteen. P. Molmenti: op. cit. 
 
i 7 4 GOLDONI 
 
 brothers named Vendramin, where his Venetian the- 
 atrical career terminated. 19 
 
 These Venetian theatres were owned by wealthy pa- 
 tricians, who retained the receipts of the boxes, which, 
 like the opera boxes of to-day, were rented for the 
 season. A ticket to a box did not include admission 
 to the house, a box-holder being required to pay the 
 entrance fee, which, according to Goldoni, "never 
 exceeded the value of a Roman paolo, or ten French 
 sous." 20 "As the daily receipts could not be large," 
 he continues, "they were not worth being run after 
 by a playwright"; yet the Venetian theatres were 
 commodious, the San Luca, for instance, being so 
 vast that in it "natural or delicate movements, the 
 subtleties, the pleasantries, in a word, true comedy, 
 lost greatly." Indeed, in both size and construction 
 these theatres resembled the continental opera-house 
 of the present day, old engravings of the San Gio- 
 vanni Crisostomo and of the San Samuele showing 
 them to have possessed large, deep stages, orchestra 
 pits, and five tiers of encircling boxes, some of which 
 were placed upon the stage, like the avant-scenes at 
 the Paris opera. 
 
 Beginning early in October, the theatrical season 
 
 19 The two remaining playhouses referred to by Goldoni, are the 
 San Benedetto and the San Moise, at the latter of which many of his 
 musical plays were performed. With the former he seems to have had 
 no connection. 
 
 20 According to P. Molmenti, "In the beginning the price of a ticket 
 to the theatre was four lire, corresponding to about two lire in our day, 
 and then, in 1647, it went down to a fourth of a ducat, or about 80 cen- 
 tesimi of our day." In Goldoni's day, therefore, the price had gone 
 down still more. 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 175 
 
 continued until the novena of Christmas. On 
 December 26 began the Winter or Carnival season, 
 which lasted until Ash Wednesday, when the theatres 
 were closed. During the two weeks of the feast of 
 Ascension the theatres were opened again and there 
 was a short season of plays and operas, but when 
 spring appeared, the theatrical companies betook 
 themselves to terra firma, there to tour until the chill 
 of autumn brought the world of fashion back to 
 Venice after its villeggiatura on the banks of the 
 Brenta. 
 
 With the apparent intention of permitting play 
 lovers to attend several performances on the same 
 day, the Venetian theatres opened at different hours. 
 These performances, however, were not seemly 
 events, such as we are accustomed to in our modern 
 playhouses. The boxes were the scene of frivolity 
 and amours. Many of their occupants wore masks, 
 and sometimes carnival costumes of indecent scanti- 
 ness ; indeed, in the words of an Italian writer, "al- 
 most every box was a temple of Venus." 21 In them 
 the fashionable world met, or young men of wealth 
 flaunted their mistresses boldly in the public gaze. 
 They belonged to the owners of the theatre and were 
 let by them for the season to fellow-patricians. Be- 
 sides being lovers' trysts, they were the rendezvous 
 of groups of intimate friends, who gossiped and 
 flirted while pelting the hoi-polloi in the pit below 
 with oranges, or even spitting upon them. 
 
 21 Vittorio Malamani : // Settecento a Fenezia. 
 
I 7 6 GOLDONI 
 
 As in the case of Moliere's parterre, the denizens 
 of Goldoni's pit were a various rabble, who ap- 
 plauded and hissed at will or rent the fetid air with 
 coarse laughter and catcalls, while the patricians 
 above them giggled, sneezed, and yawned. The 
 benches were of wood, well polished with use, and 
 they were scorned by ladies, though women of the 
 people occupied them. During the entr'actes a 
 ticket-taker with a candle-end in hand passed among 
 them, collecting the modest price of the seats. No 
 places were reserved for civil or military function- 
 aries, no soldiers were on guard, nor policemen 
 either, save an occasional catch-poll (sbirro) in civil 
 attire, who intervened only when force was indispen- 
 sable. At a popular play the gondoliers, who ordi- 
 narily were admitted to the pit, were forced to wait 
 outside the theatre, since long before the performance 
 began, the seats were filled by servants holding them 
 for their masters, or by speculators ready to sell them 
 at a profit. An hour before the performance two 
 wretched candles were lighted. No lights glowed 
 in the auditorium even after the curtain rose, except 
 an occasional candle in the region of the upper boxes 
 or the smudging tallow dips of the musicians. 
 
 Between the acts girls with baskets on their arms 
 passed between the rows of benches selling oranges, 
 anisette, cakes, fritters, and chestnuts, while in the 
 boxes coffee and ices were served. "At six or seven 
 paces from the entrance to the pit," its classic mis- 
 siles, baked apples and pears, were sold, although the 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 177 
 
 actor who won its favour had little to fear from its 
 wrath, since he enjoyed in the affections of the public 
 the same unmerited ascendency over the dramatist 
 that is held by his modern compeer, the matinee idol. 
 Though the authorities proclaimed him to be "a per- 
 son detested of God," the popular actor was received 
 familiarly in patrician households, and when he ap- 
 peared on the stage he was greeted by such affection- 
 ate cries as: "Blessed be thou! Blessed be he who 
 fathered thee!" or "Darling, I throw myself at thy 
 feet!" In his wake swarmed his cronies, all of whom 
 were dead-heads and some of whom "got in his way 
 on the stage, only to speak ill of the play." At the 
 end of the performance, it was the privilege of a 
 popular actor to announce the next play, but if the 
 one that had first been given happened to have 
 pleased the audience, his voice was drowned by cries 
 of "the same, give us the same!" Upon the first and 
 the last night of the season a favourite actress would 
 recite to the audience complimentary verses ; but not 
 until Goldoni had ceased to write for the Venetian 
 stage was it customary for the mere author to appear 
 before the curtain in response to applause. 22 
 
 Although Metastasio's music-tragedies had, like 
 our modern opera, become fashionable, improvised 
 comedies occupied the purely histrionic boards to a 
 far greater degree than plays serious in tone, the 
 pranks of Arlecchino being more congenial to the 
 mirth-seeking, laughter-loving Venetian than trag- 
 
 22 P. Molmenti: op. cit. 
 
178 GOLDONI 
 
 edy or tragi-comedy. Indeed, once when a worthy 
 abate had the temerity to present a tragedy 23 replete 
 with scenes of horror and calamity, the audience fled, 
 creating a fiasco that was waggishly parodied in a 
 tragic farce, wherein after all the characters had gone 
 off to battle, the prompter appeared, to tell the ex- 
 pectant audience that it would wait in vain for the 
 play to continue, because all the characters had been 
 killed. 
 
 But it was a decadent Improvised Comedy that 
 reigned in Venice during the first half of the eigh- 
 teenth century. Novelty was the one essential, 
 and when the vivacious Italian plots were ex- 
 hausted, Greece and Rome, myth and legend, were 
 ransacked, as well as the cloak-and-sword drama of 
 Spain, for novel subjects to exploit. It mattered not 
 that ^Eneas became a Captain Fracasso and Mene- 
 laus a Pantaloon, so long as a plot new to the Vene- 
 tian stage was presented with points sufficient for the 
 actors to hang their lazzl upon. Indeed, the comedy 
 of that day might be likened to a kaleidoscope in 
 which the sword of Fracasso, the guitar of Scara- 
 muccia, the slap-stick of Arlecchino, the spectacles 
 of Tartaglia, the red trousers of Pantalone, the 
 plumed cap of Coviello, and the wine-stains of II 
 Dottore were ever shifting into fatuous combina- 
 tions, whereby the mimes who wore or bore them, 
 might call forth laughter from a laughter-loving peo- 
 ple. In Philippe Monnier's 24 pleasing hyperbole, 
 
 23 Ulisse il Giovane, by the Abate Lazzarini. 24 Op. cit. 
 
ARCADIA TO THALIA'S SHRINE 179 
 
 these nimble adepts in buffoonery were "marvellous 
 artists of laughter, sowers of divine Gaiety's golden 
 seed, servants of the unforeseen, and kings of god- 
 send." Shorn of the exaggeration, they may safely 
 be acclaimed as first-rate actors, skilled in developing 
 their roles from a scribbled scenario that hung in the 
 wings; for with a zibaldone of familiar proverbs, 
 quips, sallies, songs, and cock-and-bull stories to draw 
 upon, they invented dialogue that would keep a play 
 "moving at a hellish rate." 
 
 Cesare D'Arbes, the buffoon responsible for Gol- 
 doni's return to his calling, was "an admirable come- 
 dian," whose acting of the role of Pantalone was "in- 
 comparable" ; therefore, since Teodora Medebac, an 
 actress "estimable above all others whom he knew," 
 was also a member of the troupe with which he jour- 
 neyed to Venice in the autumn of 1748, he had 
 worthy histrionic material with which to present his 
 comedies. 
 
 He found the Venetian stage in the condition that 
 has just been outlined. Being "strangers and new- 
 comers," Medebac's troupe "were obliged," he says, 
 "to struggle against experienced rivals," and they 
 "had great difficulty in obtaining protectors and 
 friends." The Teatro Sant' Angelo, however, which 
 the manager had leased, was "a playhouse less fa- 
 tiguing to the actors than more spacious theatres, 
 yet sufficiently large to produce adequate receipts, 
 provided that popular plays held its boards." It is 
 apparent, therefore, that the success of these new- 
 
180 GOLDONI 
 
 comers depended upon the skill of the dramatist they 
 had brought with them. His apprenticeship with 
 Imer's troupe had laid, so he believed, "the founda- 
 tions for the Italian comedy he intended to build." 
 Homogeneous in design, his structure was to be a 
 true temple to Thalia, without so much as a niche 
 for her tragic sister. He was equipped with ex- 
 perience both in life and in stage-craft, and having, 
 as he declares, "no rivals to contend with," he began 
 at once "the construction of the new edifice," a work 
 at which he was to labour ardently for fourteen years 
 ere the scorn of critics and the success of rivals drove 
 him in chagrin to seek an asylum in a foreign land. 
 
VI 
 
 PLAYWRIGHT OF THE SANT' ANGELO THEATRE 
 
 FROM the time of his return to Venice in the 
 autumn of 1748 until his departure for Paris in 
 the spring of 1762, Goldoni worked unflag- 
 gingly, during this period writing fully a hundred 
 comedies, several tragedies and tragi-comedies, and 
 nearly fifty merry plays for music. Moreover, his 
 genius attained its zenith at that time, his best 
 plays almost without exception being penned during 
 these fourteen toilsome years. Passionately attached 
 to the stage, he was engrossed in its demands. No 
 longer a dilettante, nor a briefless lawyer, no longer 
 a young vagabond inspired by wanderlust, he was a 
 man past forty, who to earn his bread had articled 
 himself to an exacting manager, his task being to 
 furnish dramatic material of a nature sufficiently 
 popular to make the operation of a theatre profita- 
 ble. 
 
 A year's run of a new play is not uncommon in 
 our day; yet the presentation of one of his comedies 
 for a month was the greatest success he might ex- 
 pect. Sometimes he was obliged to withdraw after 
 four or five performances a piece that had failed, 
 and rush into rehearsal some unfinished comedy, the 
 
1 82 GOLDONI 
 
 final acts of which he wrote while shaping the ear- 
 lier ones to fit the idiosyncracies of the actors. Liv- 
 ing in an age when literature was deemed a pleasant 
 avocation, he made it a vocation, and led, mean- 
 while, a valiant crusade against the antiquated and 
 lewd comedy of his native land ; an arduous task in- 
 deed, since his audience was inured to the time-worn 
 lazzi of Arlecchino and Brighella, while the come- 
 dians for whom he wrote, accustomed to the use of 
 masks, were without practice in learning their parts. 
 Moreover, the Sant' Angelo theatre which Medebac 
 had engaged, had as competitors in the field of 
 comedy two playhouses of established reputation. 
 "I do not remember what play was given at the open- 
 ing of the Sant' Angelo," Goldoni says, "but I know 
 well that our newly arrived troupe had to struggle 
 against very skilful rivals." 
 
 Gasparo and Lucia RafE, the parents of Teodora 
 Medebac, the leading lady, had once managed a 
 troupe of tight-rope dancers who were in the habit 
 of performing in Venice at carnival time. Madame 
 Medebac, so Goldoni assures us, "danced on the rope 
 passably well, but on the ground she danced with 
 extreme grace." It was customary, it appears, for 
 some members of the RafR troupe to perform acro- 
 batically in a booth in the Piazza San Marco by day 
 and histrionically by night in the little San Moise 
 theatre, of which Medebac, who instructed them in 
 the art of comedy, was then manager and leading 
 man. Teodora Raffi became his wife, as well as the 
 
MOUNTEBANK JUGGLERY 
 
 Museo Correr 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT' ANGELO 183 
 
 leading lady of his company; her flighty aunt, Mad- 
 dalena Raffi, became the soubrette, and the latter's 
 husband, Giuseppe Marliani, the Brighella; while 
 our old friend, Cesare D'Arbes, the pantaloon, mar- 
 ried Gasparo Raffi's sister-in-law, Rosalina, whose 
 first husband had been a German mountebank. 1 
 
 These acrobatic histrions were loved and appre- 
 ciated, Goldoni tells us, 2 "not only for their valour 
 and ability as rope-dancers, but for their decent and 
 discreet way of living under the excellent manage- 
 ment of the most worthy Raffi and the faultless con- 
 duct of the prudent, devoted, and charitable Signora 
 Lucia, his wife." When, after strolling about the 
 mainland for several years under Medebac's direc- 
 tion, they returned to Venice and entered into open 
 competition with the companies of the San Samuele 
 and the San Luca theatres, they were reproached 
 with their humble origin and derided as rope-dan- 
 cers. Madame Medebac's acting in Grlseida soon 
 made a favourable impression, however, and in The 
 Clever Woman she "succeeded in establishing the 
 company's reputation." 
 
 But Cesare D'Arbes must needs be fitted with a 
 part as well. He had never played without a mask, 
 and fearing odious comparison, he dared not act the 
 Pantaloons Goldoni had created for Francesco Coli- 
 netti of Imer's troupe ; therefore, he decided to make 
 his Venetian debut unmasked in Elegant Anthony 
 (Tonin bella grazia), the piece written for him 
 
 *L. Rasi: Op. cit. 2 Preface to Vol. XVII, Pasquali edition. 
 
1 84 GOLDONI 
 
 while its author was still at Pisa. As the latter says : 
 
 We placed it in rehearsal. The actors laughed uproariously 
 and I laughed too; we believed that the public would do likewise, 
 but that public, which they say has no mind, had a very strong 
 and decided one at the first performance of this play, and I was 
 obliged to withdraw it immediately. Under such circumstances 
 I have never been indignant with the public or the actors, but have 
 always begun coolly to examine myself, and this time I saw that 
 the fault was mine. ... I shall only say in extenuation that when 
 I wrote this comedy I had been without practice for four years. 
 My mind had been filled with professional matters, and I was 
 troubled and in ill-humour, and to make my bad luck complete, my 
 actors thought it was good. We shared in this folly and we paid 
 for it equally. 
 
 D'Arbes was chagrined by his failure, but in The 
 Prudent Man (L'Uomo prudente), another comedy 
 Goldoni had brought from the provinces, this Panta- 
 loon appeared in his mask so successfully "that he 
 was acclaimed generally as the most accomplished ac- 
 tor then upon the stage." Noting that in real life he 
 displayed the characteristics of both a worldling and 
 a witling, Goldoni, bent on making him "shine with 
 his face unmasked," put forth The Venetian Twins 
 (I Due gemelli veneziani), a comedy of mistaken 
 identity, in which D'Arbes played both a clever and 
 a doltish Dromio "with such incomparable art that 
 he found himself at the summit of his glory and joy." 
 The manager was "no less content at seeing the suc- 
 cess of his enterprise assured," and Goldoni was "a 
 sharer in the general satisfaction," being "welcomed 
 with open arms, and applauded," as he declares, "far 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 185 
 
 more than he deserved." This success set the critics 
 yelping, "the troupe of rope-dancers" being more 
 snappishly pursued by jealous rivals than the author; 
 but "their credit increased daily" and when for the 
 carnival season Goldoni drew The Artful Widow 
 from his magic bag, his triumph, as well as theirs, 
 was complete. 
 
 Since the merits of this comedy are rehearsed in 
 a subsequent chapter, it is only necessary to remind the 
 reader that this spirited stage picture of Venetian 
 society is one of the two plays that first distinguished 
 its author as the creator of a national comedy, the 
 other being its immediate successor, The Respectable 
 Girl, a comedy in which Goldoni first appears as the 
 naturalistic painter of the life of the common peo- 
 ple of Venice. As he says with reference to The 
 Art) 'ul Widow : 
 
 I had given very lucky plays, but none had been so lucky as 
 this one. It received thirty consecutive performances and has been 
 played everywhere with the same good fortune. The birth of my 
 reform could not have been more auspicious. I still had a play to 
 give for the Carnival: it was necessary that the closing should 
 not belie the first successes of this decisive year, and I found the 
 work which I needed to crown my labours. . . . This play, The 
 Respectable Girl, had all the success I could possibly wish; the, 
 closing could not have been more brilliant. Behold my reform 
 already well under way ! What good luck ! What joy for me ! 
 
 With the scoring of this triumph for his ambition 
 to reform Italian comedy terminated the provisional 
 contract Goldoni had signed with Medebac in Sep- 
 tember, 1747. So pleased were both manager and 
 
186 GOLDONI 
 
 playwright with their common success, that a four 
 years' agreement was concluded between them on 
 March 10, 1749, by the terms of which Goldoni, of- 
 ficially called "the Poet of the Medebac troupe," 
 agreed for an annual salary of four hundred and 
 fifty Venetian ducats 3 to write eight comedies and 
 two operas a year, as well as to rewrite old comedies, 
 assist at rehearsals, and follow the troupe during the 
 summer season to the various cities where his plays 
 might be produced. 4 Furthermore, he was forbid- 
 den to write comedies for other theatres in Venice, but 
 might pen libretti for musical pieces. 
 
 Having so appalling a contract to fulfil, it is not 
 surprising that his life became less venturesome. No 
 man required to write eight comedies a year, could 
 have many idle moments for Satan's employment; 
 soubrettes disturbed him less frequently during those 
 busy years, and the merry hazards of his earlier life 
 gave way to theatrical routine. In a word, genial 
 Goldoni became an untiring dramatist, employed 
 early and late at the work of conceiving, writing, and 
 rehearsing plays. No sooner was a Venetian the- 
 atrical season ended than he was off to terra firma 
 with Medebac's troupe, following it from town to 
 town, writing new comedies the meanwhile, and try- 
 ing many of them out before provincial audiences. 
 
 He had moreover to quell the jealousies of ac- 
 
 3 About $675 the Venetian ducat, according to Larousse, being worth 
 7.47 francs. 
 
 4 Commedie di Goldoni, Paperini (Florence) edition, 1753-55, vol. 
 VII, introduction to La Donna vendicativa. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 187 
 
 tresses and repel the attacks of enemies. After his 
 first great success had been won by The Artful 
 Widow, a host of antagonists arose to confound him, 
 the exultation of the fourteen glorious years he passed 
 in Venice being frequently marred by the attempts 
 of envious rivals to undo him. His literary quar- 
 rels being discussed later, the following plaint shall 
 suffice for indicating that, like every great writer, he 
 was a target for the venomous shafts of less successful 
 men: 
 
 While I worked on the old foundation of Italian comedy and 
 presented only plays partly written and partly in outline, I was 
 permitted to enjoy in peace the applause of the pit ; but the moment 
 I announced myself as an author, inventor, and poet, bright minds 
 awoke from their lethargy and found me worthy of attention and 
 criticism. 
 
 His second season in Venice (1749-50) was far 
 less successful than his first. It began with a revival 
 of The Artful Widow? and no sooner had this play 
 reappeared upon the boards of the Sant' Angelo thea- 
 tre than the comedians of the San Samuele put forth 
 a parody of it, written by the Abate Pietro Chiari, 6 
 his principal rival in the field of comedy. This base 
 attack so nettled Goldoni, that in spite of his avowed 
 principle of never answering critics, he wrote a dia- 
 
 5 In his memoirs Goldoni, writing some thirty years later, is inexact in 
 giving the number and sequence of the plays presented during this 
 season. He places the revival of The Artful Widow at carnival time, 
 but Gradenigo, a contemporary, under date of Oct. 13, 1749, records in 
 his Notatori the literary quarrel which resulted from the revival of 
 that play. Vittorio Malamani in Ateneo Veneto, Jan.-Feb., 1907. 
 
 6 La Scuola delle vedove. 
 
188 GOLDONI 
 
 logic reply, which he caused to be printed and circu- 
 lated throughout the coffee-houses and assembly- 
 rooms of Venice. 7 
 
 But he was failing in the fulfilment of his con- 
 tract to write eight comedies for each theatrical sea- 
 son. During the autumn and winter he produced 
 but five new plays ; 8 and when the season was waning 
 Medebac began to clamour for the full quota of nov- 
 elties. Goldoni would have preferred finishing the 
 season with revivals of his past successes, but the in- 
 sistence of his manager obliged him to place in re- 
 hearsal The Lucky Heiress (UErede fortunata), a 
 comedy with which he was "not content" and which, 
 as he had foreseen, failed dismally. To add to the 
 embarrassment of both Goldoni and Medebac, "the 
 excellent Pantaloon," Cesare D'Arbes, "who was one 
 of the mainstays of the company," left Venice to en- 
 ter the service of the King of Poland. So popular 
 was this actor, that when the news of his departure 
 became known, the box-holders began to refuse the 
 renewal of their subscriptions for the ensuing sea- 
 son, a state of affairs that called for drastic action, 
 lest the doom of the Sant' Angelo company be sealed. 
 To close the season The Respectable Girl and its 
 sequel 9 were revived, and in the Complimento, or 
 verses with which it was customary for the most 
 
 7 Prologo apologetico 'alia commedia la Vedova scaltra. 
 
 8 In his memoirs Goldoni mentions only two: La Buona moglie and 
 // Cavaliere e la dama, but L'Awocato veneziano, II Padre di famiglia 
 and La Famiglia dell' antiquario were, according to the most accurate 
 data obtainable, produced during this season. 
 
 9 La Buona moglie. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 189 
 
 popular actress to flatter the audience at the conclu- 
 sion of the last performance of the year, Goldoni 
 stepped into the breach that his failures had made in 
 the defences of Medebac's enterprise, in the bold 
 manner he thus describes: 
 
 Offended on my side by the ill temper of the public, and being 
 blindly confident that I amounted to something, I wrote for the 
 leading actress the Complimento with which the season ended, and 
 made her say in bad verse, but very clearly and very positively, 
 that the author who worked for her and her comrades agreed to 
 present sixteen new comedies during the ensuing year. 10 The 
 troupe on the one hand and the public on the other at once gave 
 me a certain and very flattering proof of their confidence, for the 
 actors did not hesitate to accept an engagement upon my word, 
 and a week later all the boxes were let for the ensuing year. 
 When I made this agreement, I had not a single subject in mind; 
 yet I had to keep my word or die. My friends trembled ; my ene- 
 mies laughed. I comforted the former ; I made game of the latter. 
 ... It was a terrible year for me, which I cannot recall without 
 trembling again. Sixteen comedies in three acts, each requiring 
 for its performance, according to Italian usage, two hours and a 
 half! 
 
 The theatrical season of 1750-51 was indeed "ter- 
 rible," and the wonder is that Goldoni did not die 
 in the attempt to keep his defiant promise to the Vene- 
 tian public. He had agreed to produce sixteen new 
 comedies, which in addition to the labour of writ- 
 ing, meant the onerous task of rehearsal. In length, 
 including stage-directions, his comedies average 
 
 10 The wording in the Complimento is as follows: "He will produce 
 comedies altogether new. And if he be alive and his imagination does 
 not fail him [he will produce] one a week at least." Since the theatri- 
 cal season lasted about sixteen weeks, this is equivalent to promising as 
 many comedies, a promise which was kept. 
 
igo GOLDONI 
 
 about twenty-five thousand words, hence he had con- 
 tracted to write four hundred thousand words, or 
 the equivalent of a newspaper column a day of the 
 most difficult kind of imaginative work. Not only 
 was he called upon to pen the average daily stint 
 of the modern newspaper man, but he must accom- 
 plish it in dialogue that would unfold a dramatic 
 story vivaciously and entertainingly. He had, more- 
 over, to invent the subjects for his sixteen comedies, 
 as well as to construct their plots. The physical task 
 he had set himself was the equivalent of writing five 
 novels of the present day, but in imaginative require- 
 ments it was far greater. When it is borne in mind 
 that a prolific novelist produces no more than two 
 novels a year, and that a popular playwright, such as 
 the late Clyde Fitch, including both original plays 
 and adaptations, placed upon his stage a little more 
 than forty dramatic pieces in a period of twenty years, 
 some idea may be gained of the gigantic nature of 
 Goldoni's undertaking. 
 
 No sooner had he informed the Venetian public that 
 he would produce a new comedy each week during 
 the ensuing theatrical year, than he went with Mede- 
 bac's troupe on its summer tour to Mantua and Mi- 
 lan. 11 In the former city he "did not lose his time," 
 and there "worked day and night." Play-writing, 
 however, was not his only task. Antonio Matteucci, 
 
 11 Goldoni in his memoirs says "Bologna and Mantua," but Messrs. 
 Malamani, Brognoligo, Mazzoni, and Spinelli, all agree in saying that 
 this should be Mantua and Milan, Goldoni's error being attributable to 
 the advanced age at which he wrote. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 191 
 
 an intelligent young pantaloon, known on the stage 
 as // Collalto, had been engaged to replace D'Arbes 
 and as he had appeared only in improvised comedy, 
 to coach him in the new method of acting unmasked 
 became Goldoni's special care. He wrote, too, oc- 
 casional verses for the weddings or funerals of his 
 distinguished friends, and undertook, besides, the 
 editing of his plays, for the publication of which he 
 had arranged before leaving Venice. 
 
 In a letter he wrote from Mantua to Bettinelli, his 
 publisher, he laments that the work necessitated by 
 the sixteen plays, had prevented him from penning 
 a preface to the first volume, but when he reached 
 Milan, fatigue apparently overcame his will, for in 
 another letter to Bettinelli 12 from this latter city, he 
 complains that the July heat prevented him from 
 working. He had energy, however, for social diver- 
 sions, and accepted the hospitality of Count Giuseppe 
 Antonio Arconati-Visconti, a Lombardian diplomat, 
 through whose patronage Medebac had obtained 
 the use for that summer of the Ducal Theatre 
 at Milan. 13 When Goldoni returned to Venice 
 after that arduous summer on the mainland, he 
 brought with him the manuscript of seven of the 
 sixteen comedies he had promised his public. 
 Three of these had, to use theatrical parlance, been 
 "tried out" at Mantua and four at Milan; therefore, 
 when the season opened at the Sant' Angelo theatre 
 
 12 G. M. Urbani de Ghelthof : Letter e di Carlo Goldoni. 
 13 Adolfo and Alessandro Spinelli: Letter e di Carlo Goldoni e di Gi- 
 rolamo Medebach al conte Giuseppe Antonio Arconati-Visconti. 
 
i 9 2 GOLDONI 
 
 on October ^th, nine of the sixteen comedies were 
 merely on the stocks or still to be conceived. 
 
 The first of this remarkable series to be pre- 
 sented on the Venetian stage was The Comic Theatre 
 (II Teatro comico), a confession of faith rather than 
 a play, in which Goldoni, after announcing the titles 
 of the sixteen comedies he intended to present 14 took 
 occasion to berate the antiquated methods of the Im- 
 provised Comedy, at the same time preparing the 
 mind of his public for the reform he was about to 
 launch, this play being in reality a bold polemic put 
 forth in his own defence. 
 
 So flimsy in plot, that dramatically it is the merest 
 skit, The Comic Theatre nevertheless abounds in 
 both atmosphere and characterization. A company 
 of actors are discovered on their stage rehearsing a 
 comedy. They are interrupted by a playwright who 
 tries to dispose of his antiquated wares to a canny 
 manager, and failing in his purpose, decides that 
 rather than starve he will become an actor himself. 
 An opera singer out of employment appears, seeking 
 an engagement to sing intermezzo, and she too de- 
 scends to histrionism as a last resort. In The 
 Father, a Rival of his Son (II Padre rivale del suo 
 figlio], the make-believe piece these actors are re- 
 hearsing, Goldoni presents a spirited little play 
 within a play after the manner of Hamlet. The 
 incidents of The Comic Theatre itself are too atten- 
 
 14 Regarding the titles of these sixteen comedies some doubt obtains. 
 All the existing facts may be found in Appendix A. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 193 
 
 uated, however, to constitute more than a slender 
 sketch; yet it pictures life behind the scenes so can- 
 didly and portrays stage folk so ruthlessly, that the 
 wonder is that Medebac's players did not refuse to 
 appear in this exposure of the egotism that distin- 
 guishes their calling. Here are shown all the vaga- 
 bond types that compose a theatrical troupe; the 
 overbearing leading lady and her harassed manager, 
 the pert soubrette, the vain jeune premier, and the 
 coarse comedian hungering for laughs, each as clam- 
 orous for a "fat part" as any modern star; for as one 
 of them says : 
 
 . . . There are some actors who have the conceit to judge a 
 comedy by their part. If it be short, they say that the comedy is 
 poor. They would all like to play the leading role, since the actor 
 rejoices and is glad when he hears laughter and handclapping. 
 
 For if the public's hands clap hard, 
 
 The actor 's worthy of regard. 
 
 While stripping his actors of their pretensions and 
 exposing their artistic leanness to the public, Gol- 
 doni gives them considerable wise advice. "Don't 
 you see that it is n't right to address the audience?" 
 he makes the manager in this play say to a member 
 of his company. "When he is alone on the stage, an 
 actor should pretend that no one hears or sees him; 
 for this habit of speaking to the audience is an intol- 
 erable fault that should not be permitted on any 
 ground whatever." In the following speech from this 
 skit Goldoni vies with Shakespeare in artistic sanity: 
 
 See to it that you pronounce clearly the last syllables, so they 
 
i 9 4 GOLDONI 
 
 can be heard. Recite slowly, but not too slowly; and in strong 
 passages speak louder, and accelerate your speech. . . . Guard es- 
 pecially against drawling and against declamation; speak natur- 
 ally, as if you were talking : since comedy is an imitation of nature, 
 everything that is done must be likely and probable. . . . 
 
 Written in order to prepare his public for the sup- 
 pression of the mask actors' hackneyed tricks, The 
 Comic Theatre was intended by Goldoni to be the 
 prologue to his reform of Italian comedy. He did 
 not know, as Professor De Gubernatis points out, 15 
 that in the oriental plays of Kalidasa actors and ac- 
 tresses were sometimes made to discuss a new play and 
 predispose the public in its favour; yet he knew clas- 
 sical comedy, and perhaps Moliere's Versailles Im- 
 promptu (L'Impromptu de Versailles) as well. 
 Courageously discarding the monologue of Plautus 
 and the single act of Moliere, he wrote a plotless play 
 that held the interest of his audience throughout three 
 acts merely by pictures of stage life and the discussion 
 of dramatic values a feat impossible of attainment 
 in the present day. 
 
 Though dramatically The Comic Theatre is but a 
 gossamer, in biographical texture it is so durable that 
 from its lines much insight into Goldoni's literary 
 life is gained; for besides presenting its author's theo- 
 ries of writing and acting, it shows the difficulties that 
 lay in his progress toward fame. For instance, when 
 a hack writer in this play declares that he intends to 
 
 15 Carlo Goldoni, Cor so di Lezloni fatte nell' Universita di Roma 
 nell' anno scolastico 1910-1911. 
 

 PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT' ANGELO 195 
 
 write comedies as good as Goldoni's, the manager, 
 speaking ex cathedra, says: 
 
 Ah, my lad, you must first spend on the stage as many years as 
 he has passed there, and then you may hope to be able to do 
 something. Do you think he became a writer of comedies all at 
 once? He did so little by little, and succeeded in being appre- 
 ciated by the public only after long study, long practice, and a 
 continuous and untiring observation of the stage, manners, and 
 customs, as well as of the genius, of nations. 
 
 After successfully presenting The Comic Theatre 
 to Venetian playgoers, Goldoni gained time for the 
 completion of his titanic task by staging six comedies 
 he had already produced in Mantua and Milan, 16 
 hastening the meanwhile to completion those needed 
 to fulfil his boast. When all but one had been fin- 
 ished, he was at a loss for a subject, until strolling 
 one day in the Piazza San Marco, he saw an Arme- 
 nian fruit pedlar, who "sent him home happy," this 
 man's appearance having suggested to him the plot 
 of Women's Tittle-Tattle (I Pettegolezzi delle 
 donne) , the last of the famous sixteen comedies. Pre- 
 sented on Shrove Tuesday (Feb. 23, 1751), it brought 
 this extraordinary season to an end. Goldoni's words 
 shall describe its impressive premiere: 
 
 On that day the throng was so great that the price of boxes 
 was tripled and quadrupled, and the applause so tumultuous that 
 the passers-by wondered if it resulted from pleasure or a general 
 riot. I was seated tranquilly in my box, surrounded by friends, 
 who were weeping with joy. A crowd of people sought me out, 
 
 16 Le Femmine puntigliose, La Bottega del cafie, II Bugiardo, UAdul- 
 atore, II Poeta fanatico, and Pamela nubile. 
 
196 GOLDONI 
 
 and, forcing me to leave, carried and dragged me in spite of my- 
 self to the Ridotto, where I was paraded from room to room and 
 made to receive the compliments I would have liked to avoid, had 
 I been able to do so. I was too tired to endure such a ceremony ; 
 moreover, not knowing whence came the enthusiasm of the mo- 
 ment, I was provoked to find this play placed above others I liked 
 far better. But little by little, I discerned the real motive for this 
 general acclamation. It was an ovation for the fulfilment of my 
 pledge. 
 
 In a letter he wrote four days later to Count Ar- 
 conati-Visconti, his Milanese patron, Goldoni says 
 that the crowd at the theatre on that eventful evening 
 was so great that three hundred people were turned 
 away, and although he had the "consolation of being 
 universally appreciated," he declared that he should 
 "never again undertake a burden such as he believed 
 had never before been successfully borne by any one." 
 "My friends trembled," he adds, "lest I might not 
 fulfil this momentous engagement, while my enemies 
 got their whistles ready to blow." 
 
 Thus terminated a dramatic season that is perhaps 
 the most remarkable in the history of the stage. Not 
 only did Goldoni produce sixteen new plays at the 
 Sant' Angelo during as many weeks, but he was writ- 
 ing the libretti of five comic operas performed that 
 season at the San Cassiano and other theatres, and had, 
 besides, orders for comedies from other cities. "I am 
 glued to my desk day and night," he writes a friend, 
 "and for twelve days I have not been to the play. 
 I have two theatres on my shoulders, and orders, be- 
 sides, for two comedies a year for Dresden and two for 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 197 
 
 Florence. 17 In spite of the abnormal amount of work 
 he was doing, there were only two failures among his 
 famous sixteen plays. 18 In literary quality, too, they 
 are far from contemptible, three of their number 19 
 taking a high, though not a commanding, rank among 
 their author's literary work. In style they vary 
 greatly, among them being comedies of character, in- 
 trigue, adventure, manners, and sentiment. More- 
 over, Goldoni began about this time to write out the 
 parts of the mask characters. "After the first and 
 second year," he says, 20 "I did not leave them at 
 liberty, but whenever I thought they ought to be in- 
 troduced, I gave them written parts ; for I had learned 
 by experience that a mask thinks more of himself than 
 of the comedy in hand, and if he can but get a laugh, 
 he does n't bother to investigate whether or not the 
 thing he says conforms to his part and its circum- 
 stances; thus, without being aware of it, often con- ] 
 fusing the action, and ruining the comedy." 
 
 It will be seen that Goldoni's reform was thor- 
 oughly launched during this memorable season. In 
 keeping his word to the Venetian public he had ac- 
 complished a task such as Alfieri alone has emulated 
 in modern times ; 21 but by placing the antiquated 
 masks in fetters, he had freed Italian comedy from 
 
 " Letter to G. A. Arconati-Visconti, Oct. 22, 1751. 
 18 // Giuocatore and La Donna volubile. 
 
 19 Le Femmine puntigliose, La Bottega del caffe, La Dama prudente. 
 
 20 Preface to La Famiglia dell' antiquario, Pasquali edition. 
 
 21 The fourteen tragedies which Alfieri finished during the two years 
 of his sojourn in Rome, were not all conceived there, some of them be- 
 ing merely finished or retouched at that time. (1782-83). 
 
198 GOLDONI 
 
 the despotism of centuries. The public, moreover, 
 had given him an ovation : Pantalone and his mates 
 no longer tyrannized over the stage. 
 
 After this arduous season Goldoni suffered from 
 neurasthenia, a malady to which writers are especially 
 prone. "I had at the age of forty-three," he says, 
 "much inventive and executive facility, but I was a 
 man like any other. My close attention to work had 
 upset my health; I fell ill, and paid the price of my 
 folly." Although overcome with fatigue, he assures 
 us that "vexation played no less a part in his condi- 
 tion," for he had, like many another playwright, 
 quarrelled with his manager, a grasping and ungrate- 
 ful man, it appears, who had not given him so much 
 as "one obol" beyond his salary for the year, in spite 
 of the fact that he had written sixteen comedies in- 
 stead of eight stipulated for in the contract. "I re- 
 ceived many compliments from Medebac," he says, 
 "but no reward of any sort; I was angry, yet I held 
 my tongue." "However," as he continues, "a man 
 cannot live on glory" ; therefore, he turned to the pub- 
 lication of his plays, only to find himself opposed in 
 the enjoyment of "this last resource" by niggardly 
 Medebac, who claimed that in buying stage rights, he 
 had purchased literary rights as well. "Not wishing 
 to be in litigation with people he saw daily," and 
 "loving peace too much to sacrifice it to interest," he 
 compromised the matter by accepting Medebac's 
 permission to publish one volume of plays a year. "I 
 understood his singular permission to mean," he says, 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT' ANGELO 199 
 
 "that Medebac believed he had attached me to him- 
 self for life; but I only awaited the end of the fifth 
 year to get rid of him." 
 
 Feeling, meanwhile, that a change of air and the 
 distractions of travel would benefit his health, he and 
 his wife went in April with Medebac's troupe to 
 Turin, and while there he composed Moliere (II 
 Moliere) , a five-act comedy in verse. The capital of 
 Piedmont he found a delightful city, its inhabitants 
 being thoroughly congenial and cosmopolitan, and he 
 notes with considerable surprise that they spoke of 
 him as an Italian instead of a Venetian, an indication 
 that the seeds of nationalism were already planted in 
 the field in which they eventually ripened to glorious 
 maturity. 
 
 Leaving Turin before Moliere was produced, he 
 and "good Nicoletta" went to Genoa, where he led 
 "a delectable life of perfect idleness." Refreshed by 
 a summer of complete rest, he returned to Venice 
 when the autumn chill was in the air, and there he 
 found the first volume of his plays already printed 
 and his royalties awaiting him. Having dedicated 
 the four comedies it contained to four patrons, he ac- 
 quired by virtue of this divided compliment a silver 
 chocolate service, a watch, a golden box, and four 
 pairs of lace cufifs, a more substantial reward, cer- 
 tainly, than the four ceremonious letters of thanks a 
 modern writer would receive under similar circum- 
 stances. Further to gladden him, his comedy, Mo- 
 Here, which had been produced in Turin while he 
 
200 GOLDONI 
 
 was reposing in Genoa, was successfully presented in 
 Venice. 
 
 During the ensuing dramatic season (1751-52), he 
 penned his quota of comedies, a considerable por- 
 tion of which proved successful; but the tranquillity 
 of his life was disturbed by a soubrette, who unluckily 
 was the aunt of Madame Medebac, the leading lady. 
 Known on the stage as La Corallina, and married to 
 Marliani, the brighella, this lady, Maddalena Raffi 
 by name, had been separated from her husband for 
 three years because of her "youthful flightiness," and 
 when she rejoined him to become the soubrette of 
 Medebac's company, she became a thorn in its side as 
 well. She was "pretty and pleasant," Goldoni con- 
 fesses, and "had a marked talent for comedy." As 
 she played soubrette parts, of course he could not fail 
 "to interest himself in her," he says; therefore "he 
 took her under his wing," and wrote for her several 
 comedies 22 wherein she shone so brilliantly that 
 Madame Medebac, seeing in her aunt a rival for the 
 public's favour, became so jealous that Goldoni was 
 reluctantly obliged to display in another piece 2 * 
 the endowments of the niece. In the meantime, 
 Collalto, the new pantaloon, was clamouring for 
 the centre of the stage, and had to be placated, 
 too, with a play; 24 therefore, it was an altogether 
 vexatious season, the ill-feeling of which Goldoni 
 
 22 La Castalda, L'Amante militare, Le Donne gelose, La Serva 
 amorosa, I Puntigli domestici, La Locandiera, Le Donne curwse. 
 
 23 La Moglie saggia. 
 
 24 / Due pantaloni' later called / Mercanti. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 201 
 
 subtly contrived to intensify by writing for his new- 
 est flame the stellar role of a play with the singularly 
 appropriate title of The Jealous Women (Le Donne 
 gelose). In this piece La Corallina closed the sea- 
 son so dazzlingly, the enamoured dramatist says, that 
 "Madame Medebac, poor woman, again fell into con- 
 vulsions." "Her vapours aroused my own," he con- 
 tinues, "with this difference, that she was ill in mind 
 and I in body." 
 
 Still feeling the baneful effects of his abnormal 
 labour of the preceding year, he joined Medebac's 
 troupe at Bologna, hopeful that a change of air would 
 benefit his weary nerves. While seated in a coffee- 
 house one day, he overheard a group of Bolognese 
 discussing his arrival. One of them acclaimed him 
 "the author of fine comedies," another denounced him 
 as "the author who had suppressed the masks and 
 ruined comedy." In the midst of this heated dis- 
 cussion of his merits, a physician who knew him en- 
 tered the coffee-house and greeted him warmly, much 
 to the chagrin of his detractor and to the delight of 
 his defender. This little scene amused Goldoni 
 greatly, and after being introduced to the worthy 
 Bolognese who had expressed a good opinion of him, 
 he went, together with his friend, the doctor, and 
 his new acquaintance, to the house of the Marquis 
 Francesco Albergati-Capacelli, a Bolognese senator 
 and patron of the stage, who played so considerable 
 a part in his life that a word concerning him cannot 
 be amiss. 
 
202 GOLDONI 
 
 Albergati was a rich young nobleman, who em- 
 ployed both his leisure and his fortune in the culti- 
 vation of the dramatic art. At Zola, one of his es- 
 tates near Bologna, he built a theatre in emulation of 
 "le vieux Suisse des Delices/* where he and his 
 friends played translations of Voltaire, as well as com- 
 edies he penned himself, Albergati being so good a 
 histrion that Goldoni declared no professional or 
 amateur in Italy could play the heroes of tragedy or 
 the lovers of comedy so well as this young Maecenas 
 of the stage, whom contemporaries dubbed "the Ital- 
 ian Garrick." 
 
 "Monsieur d' Albergati always showed me both 
 kindness and friendship," Goldoni says, "and when- 
 ever I went to Bologna I lodged at his house." 
 Moreover, it was Albergati who first revealed his 
 work to Voltaire. The Bolognese had not met the 
 sage of Ferney, but needing some information re- 
 garding the staging of Semiramis, he wrote to Vol- 
 taire himself, and received together with the stage 
 directions he sought, this approval of his passion for 
 the theatre: 
 
 Blessed be Heaven which inspired you with a love for the most 
 divine pastime that cultivated men and virtuous women can en- 
 joy, when more than two of them are gathered together. 
 
 The correspondence thus begun, continued, Vol- 
 taire and Albergati exchanging, together with expres- 
 sions of mutual esteem, tragedies and comedies, both 
 original and translated, as well as occasional gifts. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT ANGELO 203 
 
 "I do not know Albergati," the Sage of Ferney told 
 Casanova, when the latter visited him in 1760, "but 
 he has sent me Goldoni's plays, some Bologna sau- 
 sages, and a translation of my Tancrede." 25 The ad- 
 venturer pronounced Goldoni the Moliere of Italy, 
 but dismissed Albergati as "a worthy gentleman with 
 an income of six thousand sequins, who was afflicted 
 with theatromania." From this fell disease he cer- 
 tainly suffered, for besides acting and writing plays, 
 and playing host to playwrights and Thespians, he 
 took for his wife an actress, whom he later murdered 
 in a fit of jealousy. In expiation of his crime he was 
 obliged to flee the country for a while, yet his fervour 
 for the footlights remained unquenched, since at the 
 age of seventy he married for his third wife a ballet 
 dancer, who "made him the most unhappy of men." 
 
 In 1752, however, Albergati was but twenty-four 
 years old, with the bacillus of theatromania just be- 
 ginning to stir within him; so he welcomed Goldoni 
 at his board, and extended to him the hand of friend- 
 ship, a hospitality the dramatist requited by dedi- 
 cating his next play to this young marquis. 26 
 
 But our dramatist was beginning to cross fashion- 
 able thresholds in his native Venice, as well as in 
 Bologna and Milan. Not only did he dine with the 
 distinguished humanist and archaeologist Gian Rin- 
 aldo Carli-Rubbi at the table of Her Excellency, La 
 Signora Procuratessa Sagredo, 27 but he was actually 
 "taken up" by the most exclusive patricians ; for when 
 
 25 Memoirs de J. Casanova de Selngalt. 
 
 26 L* Sena amorosa. 27 Letter to Carli-Rubbi, Feb. 12, 1752- 
 
204 GOLDONI 
 
 Giovanni Mocenigo, a scion of a family of which 
 six members had already worn the doge's cap, mar- 
 ried in April, 1752, Caterina Loredan, daughter of 
 the reigning Doge, the bridegroom invited Goldoni 
 to the wedding in this friendly manner: 
 
 The Most Serene Doge has permitted me to invite some of my 
 friends to the wedding; you are one of the number; I beg you to 
 come. There will be a seat for you at the table. 
 
 This Giovanni Mocenigo was a worthy member 
 of a notable family whose name had been inscribed 
 in the Golden Book of Venice since its inception and 
 whose descendants of the present day are as gracious 
 and hospitable as he. That he kept his word courte- 
 ously, Goldoni's account of the wedding supper bears 
 witness : 
 
 In the banquet hall there was a table laid with a hundred cov- 
 ers, and in another room, one of twenty-four, at which the Doge's 
 nephew did the honours. I was seated at the latter, but during 
 the second course we all left our places and went into the large 
 banquet hall, walking around this immense room, stopping now 
 behind one and now behind another, I in particular enjoying the 
 civilities with which an author, who had had the good luck to 
 please, was showered. 
 
 This courtesy Goldoni repaid by dedicating one of 
 his merry plays for music 28 to the bride "in testimony 
 of his profound homage." He had been given a 
 place at last at the feet of the mighty and it is amus- 
 ing to picture him arriving at the palazzo of some 
 Mocenigo or Querini. In a dingy public gondola 
 
 28 1 Portentosi effetti della madre natura. 
 

 PLAYWRIGHT OF SANT' ANGELO 205 
 
 he comes, which is kept rocking against the striped 
 pali, while some trim private craft discharges its 
 scented and powdered freight. The gorgeous door 
 porter and the liveried gondoliers of his host with 
 boat-hook in hand look at him askance as he pays the 
 tariff of his shabby boatman, and begrudgingly help 
 him to alight on the wave-washed steps. When he 
 has ascended the broad marble stairway and entered 
 the rococo salon on the floor above, adorned with 
 frescoes from Tiepolo's magic brush, many a pair of 
 pretty eyes flashes scornfully in the candlelight, and 
 many a smile is hidden behind a point de Venise 
 fan; for who is this round-faced borghese of awk- 
 ward step but Papa Goldoni, the author of comedies, 
 invited as a nine days' wonder by the hostess, before 
 whom he is bowing and scraping with middle-class 
 uneasiness. 
 
VII 
 
 PLAYWRIGHT OF THE SAN LUCA THEATRE 
 
 WHEN Goldoni returned to Venice from 
 Bologna during the autumn of 1752, there 
 was a matter of greater import than social 
 recognition to demand his attention. He had become 
 dissatisfied with Medebac, and as the period during 
 which he had contracted to serve him was drawing 
 to a close, he notified this manager that "he need not 
 count on him for the following year." Though Me- 
 debac "did his best to induce him to remain in his 
 service," Goldoni entered into negotiations with the 
 proprietors of the San Luca theatre, two patrician 
 brothers, Antonio and Francesco Vendramin, who 
 conducted their playhouse on a profit-sharing basis, 
 the box subscriptions being retained for the rent and 
 the door receipts divided among the actors according 
 to merit and seniority. 
 
 A few days before his agreement with Medebac 
 expired, Goldoni signed a contract with the Vendra- 
 mins, whereby for a monthly salary of fifty ducats 
 he agreed to write eight comedies annually during 
 a period of ten years. Only during the first two 
 years, however, was he obliged to follow the com- 
 pany on its summer tour at his own expense; and he 
 
 206 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 207 
 
 was at liberty to print his comedies, though not until 
 three years after they had appeared on the Venetian 
 stage. 1 While the theatres were closed for the 
 Christmas holidays, he notified Medebac of his in- 
 tended desertion, but he served him faithfully dur- 
 ing the remaining months of the theatrical season. 
 Moreover, at its close he handed him three new come- 
 dies, a parting gift that brought the total of those 
 penned by him during the five years of his engage- 
 ment with the Sant 7 Angelo company to forty-six 
 including // Pantalone imprudente (1749) and // 
 Sensale di matrimoni (before April, 1753), f which 
 only the titles exist or six more than the eight a 
 year he had contracted to write. 
 
 During the last season at the Sant' Angelo, Gol- 
 doni staged The Mistress of the Inn (La Locan- 
 diera), and was assured that "he had never con- 
 structed so well, nor written so naturally," an 
 evidence, surely, that a good play is good at any time. 
 Without masks and lazzi, or any of the more trans- 
 parent tricks of the Improvised Comedy, this notable 
 play a milestone in its author's career still holds 
 the boards in Italy and has been translated into a 
 dozen languages. At the time of its production, 
 however, it but served to fire the jealousy of Madame 
 
 ^LDino Mantovani: Carlo Goldoni e il Teatro dl San Luca a Venezia, 
 gives the text of this contract. It was dated Feb. 15, 1752, old 
 Venetian time, therefore 1753 according to the Gregorian calendar. It 
 was executed by Antonio Vendramin, whose brother Francesco signed 
 two succeeding contracts with Goldoni after Antonio's death, which 
 occurred previous to 1756, when Goldoni, in the dedication of // Geloso 
 avaro, speaks of him as being deceased. Francesco's correspondence 
 with Goldoni is published in Signor Mantovani's volume. 
 
208 GOLDONI 
 
 Medebac, who on being informed that her aunt, La 
 Corallina, was to play the title-role, took to her bed, 
 until the news of her rival's success caused her to 
 leave it hurriedly and force her husband to revive 
 a former success, 2 in which her own talents might 
 shine again. According to Goldoni: 
 
 Her vapours became more annoying and more ridiculous. She 
 laughed and cried at the same time; she screamed, grimaced, and 
 contorted. Believing she was bewitched, her worthy family sum- 
 moned exorcists; she was loaded down with relics, and she played 
 and sported with these sacred tokens like a child of four. 
 
 Mere jealousy of a rival's histrionic success in roles 
 quite different from her own, appears an insufficient 
 cause for Madame Medebac's hysteria, unless to it 
 be added jealousy of the heart. May not the man- 
 ager's wife have loved Goldoni with an unrequited 
 passion, intensified by hate of the winsome soubrette 
 who had made him the prey of her charms? Though 
 he is silent on this point, the last comedy he wrote 
 for the Sant' Angelo was "a little shaft of revenge," 3 
 directed at the latter of these warring ladies, whose 
 efforts to keep him under her thumb had proved so 
 futile that "she vowed eternal hatred." Though he 
 paid La Corallina the compliment of composing for 
 her the comedy that ended his contract with Mede- 
 bac, she refused to play in it. He was glad, never- 
 theless, he assures us, "to reply to the vehemence of 
 her anger with a gentle and suitable pleasantry." 
 
 Amidst this storm of feminine rancour he left the 
 
 2 Pamela nubile. 3 La Donna vendicativa. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 209 
 
 Sant' Angelo theatre in the spring of 1753, and took 
 service at the San Luca, only to kindle a jealous con- 
 flagration there. In the new company there was a 
 leading lady aged fifty, whose husband, Pietro Gan- 
 dini, was the brighella. Though so notable a protean 
 artist that he might be justly dubbed the Frugoli 
 of his day, this actor claims immortality through his 
 husbandhood; for no sooner did the new playwright 
 appear at the San Luca theatre than Gandini began 
 uxorious intrigues to ensure the best roles for his 
 wife. "A charming Florentine" having been en- 
 gaged to play the second roles, Goldoni "ran the 
 risk," he says, "of being forced to give the. heavy 
 parts to the young, and the sentimental to the super- 
 annuated woman," Gandini having assured him that 
 he expected his wife "to shine on the stage for ten 
 years to come." The lady "realized her limitations," 
 it appears ; yet, when a ten years' engagement at her 
 present salary was offered her, and roles promised 
 her by Goldoni "in which she would win applause, 
 provided their choice was left to him," her husband 
 maintained curtly that his wife was the leading-lady, 
 and that he would rather be hanged than see her de- 
 graded, whereupon "he turned his back rather scurv- 
 ily." 
 
 By creating so sympathetic a second part in a new 
 play 4 that La Gandini was thoroughly eclipsed by 
 the vivacious and passionate acting of Caterina Bres- 
 ciani, the charming young Florentine in question, 
 
 4 Hircana, in La Sposa persiana. 
 
210 GOLDONI 
 
 Goldoni, whose "diabolical art" had sacrificed the 
 leading-lady without her husband having been able 
 to perceive it, so enraged that worthy that he refused 
 to let his wife appear in the next production. Being 
 given but scant courtesy by the Vendramins, Gan- 
 dini vented his anger by throwing his watch as a 
 parting shaft of displeasure through a glass door, 
 "which he broke within every meaning of the pro- 
 verb," whereupon he and his ancient spouse resigned 
 their places in the troupe and took service with the 
 King of Poland. "Ah, what strange beasts actors 
 are to drive," Moliere once exclaimed, Goldoni's 
 troubles with jealous histrions being but those 
 shared by the members of his craft in every age and 
 every land. 
 
 Although there were quarrelling actresses at the 
 San Luca as well as at the Sant' Angelo, Goldoni's 
 vexations were lessened by the fact that his new man- 
 agers were gentlemen, who in their transactions with 
 him showed themselves a.t once scrupulous and lib- 
 eral. He had articled himself for ten years to write 
 eight comedies annually at a monthly salary of fifty 
 ducats, yet before the half of that period had ex- 
 pired, the number of comedies he was obliged to 
 furnish was reduced to six. He was permitted, 
 moreover, to write eight or, at most, nine a year; 
 therefore, as his emolument was in his second con- 
 tract with the Vendramins changed from a monthly 
 stipend of fifty ducats to the payment of a hundred 
 for each comedy he penned, it will be seen that for 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 211 
 
 the eight called for by the original contract, he would 
 receive an increase of two hundred ducats over its 
 terms. Besides, this second contract gave Goldoni a 
 bonus of two hundred ducats, payable in two instal- 
 ments, on condition that he comply strictly with its 
 provisions. 5 
 
 Yet the Vendramins, though generous, were pa- 
 tricians, who brooked no undue familiarity on the 
 part of their bourgeois dramatist. In the letters he 
 exchanged with Francesco Vendramin, Goldoni is 
 careful to address him as Eccellenza, whereas the 
 manager dismisses him as "Signor Carlo." Once, 
 when he asked for a hundred ducats, Vendramin, 
 though he sent the money, wrote curtly: "Signor 
 Carlo, I am a gentleman and a Christian, two words 
 of great significance. I who write them, understand 
 them : I hope that you will understand them also after 
 having read and digested them." 6 
 
 Although his material condition was bettered at the 
 San Luca theatre, Goldoni had considerable trouble 
 in "infusing its actors with the taste, tone, and nat- 
 ural manner that had distinguished those of the Sam' 
 Angelo" ; moreover, the San Luca was a larger thea- / 
 tre, where the subtleties of comedy were lost. No 
 sooner had he overcome these difficulties, so far as 
 lay in his power, by penning plays more spectacular 
 than those he had staged for Medebac, than he was 
 beset by other troubles ; for when he took to Bettinelli 
 
 5 The second contract, dated Oct. 14, 1756, was executed by Francesco 
 Vendramin, after the death of his brother Antonio. 
 
 6 Letter, July, 1759. 
 
212 GOLDONI 
 
 the fourth volume of his plays, 7 to his amazement 
 he was coldly informed by that publisher that he 
 would accept the manuscript only from Medebac, on 
 whose sole account the publication of the comedies 
 would be continued. Furthermore, Medebac was 
 pocketing a larger sum from the publication of the 
 comedies than he had paid the author for writing 
 them. 8 
 
 Feeling that "chicanery is the same everywhere," 
 and rather than enter into a lawsuit, Goldoni de- 
 cided to issue his plays elsewhere ; therefore, he went 
 to Florence forthwith and arranged with the publish- 
 ing house of Paperini to bring out a revised author's 
 edition, the emendations and amplifications of which 
 would "confound" Bettinelli and make the latter's 
 edition worthless. But that wily rascal, aided by the 
 publisher's guild, induced the Venetian authorities 
 to forbid the importation of this foreign edition. 
 Boldly aided by his friends, Goldoni resorted to 
 smuggling. He had, he tells us, five hundred Vene- 
 tian subscribers to the new edition, and each time a 
 volume left the press, five hundred copies of it were 
 hidden "on the banks of the Po, at a spot known to 
 a band of noble Venetians," who introduced the con- 
 traband into the capital and distributed it within sight 
 of everybody. The government held aloof, so he 
 says, "from a matter that was more ridiculous than 
 
 7 In his Memoirs Goldoni says the third volume, but he is in error. 
 See A. G. Spinelli: Bibliografia goldoniana. 
 
 8 Carlo Goldoni ad un suo amico in Venezia, published as a pros- 
 pectus of the Paperini edition, 1753. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 213 
 
 interesting." Nevertheless, the correpondence of a 
 confidential agent of the Venetian censors at this time 
 indicates that the charges against Bettinelli, made by 
 Goldoni in a published letter, were so resented in 
 Venice that efforts were threatened to prevent his 
 return to that place in case he persisted in smuggling 
 copies of the Florentine edition. 9 
 
 Goldoni did return to Venice, however, without 
 being proscribed; yet no sooner was he comfortably 
 settled there than his worthless brother arrived, to 
 pester him anew. He had not seen Gian Paolo for 
 fully ten years, but when the scamp reached the end 
 of his resources, he wrote the dramatist, saying he 
 had married in Rome a lawyer's widow who had since 
 died, and that he wished "to introduce to his brother 
 the two Goldoni offspring" to whom she had given 
 birth, a boy of four, or thereabouts, named Antonio 
 Francesco, and Petronilla Margherita, a girl of five. 
 "Becoming interested immediately in these two chil- 
 dren, who might," as he feared, "need his assistance," 
 Goldoni sent his brother funds for the journey, em- 
 braced him fondly when he arrived in Venice, and 
 adopted his progeny, whom he treated as his own, 
 his wife being childless. His mother, who was 
 nearly eighty by this time, was "much thrilled by 
 seeing a son whom she had ceased to count among 
 the living"; while Nicoletta, "whose goodness and 
 sweetness never belied her, received the two children 
 as her own and took charge of their education." 
 
 9 P. G. Molmenti: Carlo Goldoni. 
 
214 GOLDONI 
 
 Still suffering, as he says, from the effects of the 
 hard work he had done for Medebac, and being on 
 the verge of a nervous collapse, Goldoni went "with 
 his entire family" to Modena during the early sum- 
 mer of 1754, and there fell ill of pneumonia. No 
 sooner had he recovered, than he must needs be off 
 to Milan "to join his actors"; for even during his 
 convalescence he wrote his daily stint of dramatic 
 work. When he returned to Venice in the autumn, 
 he lost his mother; though, strangely enough, he gives 
 no account in his memoirs of the death of "one who 
 had ever caressed him and never complained of him." 
 Of the family reunion brought about by his brother's 
 return, he records, however, that "surrounded by all 
 that were dear to him, and content with his work, 
 he was the happiest man in the world." 
 
 When these words were penned, thirty-odd years 
 had slipped by and his memory had doubtless mel- 
 lowed, since in letters he wrote but a few months be- 
 fore Gian Paolo appeared in Venice, he complains 
 of being "pursued by misfortunes and persecuted by 
 enemies." 10 Indeed, it is difficult to picture this 
 childless sufferer from depleted nerves, whose brother 
 had returned to harass him, and whose mother's life 
 was ebbing, as the happiest of men, even though his 
 plays sold well and "money came to him from all 
 sides." Much nearer the truth it is to state that dur- 
 
 10 Letter to Marina Sagredo Pisani, Nov. 4, 1753, and letter to the 
 Marchese Bonifazio Rangoni, of the preceding day. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 215 
 
 ing those laborious years in Venice, he led a life of 
 constant effort, and that, since "money never abided 
 with him long," his meagre salary barely sufficed for 
 the necessities of life. 
 
 He served the Vendramins faithfully and bril- 
 liantly the meanwhile, nearly all the naturalistic 
 comedies in the Venetian dialect, upon which his 
 fame most surely rests, being written during the nine 
 years he worked for their playhouse; yet he was 
 harassed by the burden of an augmented family and, 
 as a subsequent chapter will show, he was beset by 
 the attacks of jealous rivals and militant critics, and 
 often was at his wit's end to keep the public's fickle 
 heart from wavering. When he entered the Ridotto, 
 for instance, after the failure of a comedy, 11 he heard 
 the loungers exclaim: "Goldoni is finished. Gol- 
 doni has emptied his bag, the portfolio is exhausted." 
 Asking what portfolio was meant, a masker re- 
 plied: "We mean the manuscript from which Gol- 
 doni has taken everything he has yet written." He 
 had "sought critics," he declared, but found only 
 "ignorance and animosity." Undaunted, however, 
 by this charge of plagiarism and these sneers, he 
 passed the night meditating how he might be 
 avenged, and at daybreak began a five-act comedy in 
 verse, 12 which was produced successfully just a fort- 
 night later, the actors rehearsing it act by act as the 
 writing proceeded. "Listen to me, fellow-workers," 
 
 11 // Vecchio bizzarro. 12 // Festino. 
 
216 GOLDONI 
 
 he exclaimed regarding this proof that his bag was 
 not empty ; "the only means we have of being avenged 
 on the public is to force it to applaud us." 
 
 Since his contract did not oblige him to follow the 
 troupe of the San Luca theatre to the mainland after 
 the first two years of his engagement, he made fewer 
 journeys now than he did when he was employed 
 by Medebac ; yet he passed a summer at Bologna and 
 one at Parma. On his way to the former city he was 
 arrested at a custom-house near Ferrara, because, as 
 he says in his ingenuous way, he "forgot to submit 
 his trunk for examination." Though it contained 
 illegal chocolate, coffee, and candles, the customs 
 officer who ransacked it found several volumes of 
 comedies as well, and being an amateur actor, he was 
 so pleased to meet their author, that instead of con- 
 fiscating the contraband as the law required, he 
 went to Ferrara and pleaded for clemency with his 
 superiors with such success that the would-be smug- 
 gler was permitted to keep his luggage, after paying 
 a nominal duty. The official refused a tip, moreover, 
 and also a gift of chocolate; so, making a note of his 
 name and promising to send him a copy of the next 
 edition of his plays, Goldoni fared on contentedly to 
 Bologna. 
 
 After passing some months in that city he returned 
 to Venice for a few days, then sought recreation near 
 Padua at the country-house of Count Lodovico Widi- 
 man, an amateur harlequin, infected, like Albergati, 
 with theatromania. For performance in his host's 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 217 
 
 theatre he wrote some dramatic sketches, and when 
 forced by the ladies to act the lover in one of them, 
 and getting laughed at for his pains, he penned a 
 piece 14 in which he played four comic roles so suc- 
 cessfully that he considered his histrionic honour 
 avenged. 
 
 Returning to Venice he passed the winter there, 
 engaged in writing his covenanted batch of come- 
 dies, and in the spring (1756) he went to Parma at 
 the command of its duke, the Infante Don Philip of 
 Spain, to compose libretti for the use of the Italian 
 comic opera company which His Royal Highness was 
 then establishing. So successfully did he accomplish 
 this task that he received the title of "Court Poet" 
 and an annual pension of three thousand Parmesan 
 lire, or about a hundred and fifty dollars, involving, 
 as he says, "no obligation whatever," the plays Don 
 Philip commanded being otherwise requited. 15 
 Francesco Vendramin, too, made a second and more 
 favourable contract with him about this time; hence 
 he found himself in easier circumstances than he had 
 ever been since he began to write professionally for 
 the stage. 
 
 Don Philip's court was passing the summer at Co- 
 lorno, and there Goldoni saw for the first time in his 
 life a troupe of French actors. Kissing was then 
 forbidden on the Italian stage; so, when he perceived 
 a stage lover embracing his mistress, he shouted 
 "bravo" so lustily that the punctilious court was 
 
 14 La Flera. 15 Letter to G. A. Arconati-Visconti, Oct. 9, 1756. 
 
218 GOLDONI 
 
 shocked, till "the Italian author's surprise" received 
 ' the ducal pardon. At Colorno, he learned to speak 
 French and there he kissed the hands of so many 
 ladies, royal and otherwise, and made so many agree- 
 able acquaintances, that he was loath to leave the 
 court. Returning to Venice for the autumn theatri- 
 cal season, he revisited Parma during the winter and 
 worked diligently upon three merry musical plays 
 for his royal patron's opera troupe. 16 
 
 When he returned to Venice in the spring of 1757, 
 he found that his enemies had spread abroad the news 
 of his death, a certain monk having even "dared to 
 aver that he had been at his funeral." As Goldoni 
 reappeared not only "safe and sound," but also with 
 a ducal appointment and pension, it is not surprising 
 that "the anger and envy of his rivals were excited." 
 Indeed, their attacks upon him grew so bitter that 
 winter ( 1756-57) , that his literary friends rallied to his 
 colours and defended him in pamphlet and pasquin- 
 ade. 
 
 Apparently the greatest pleasure of the two dra- 
 matic seasons preceding and following his trips to 
 Parma, was the acquaintance he formed with Ma- 
 dame du Boccage, a poetess "as lovable as she was 
 wise," whom he styled "the Parisian Sappho." No 
 doubt "the agreeable and instructive conversation" 
 of this femme savante, upon whose brow Voltaire 
 had already placed a laurel crown, atoned to Gol- 
 doni in some degree for the rancour of his enemies ; 
 
 16 La Buona figliuola, II Festino, I Fiaggiatori ridicoli. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 219 
 
 yet he was harassed by overwork as well as by malice. 
 
 During the first of these seasons (1756-57) he pre- 
 sented seven new comedies, "his Venetian theatrical 
 affairs being particularly fortunate that year." lg 
 He found time as well to write for the private stage 
 of his friend, the Marquis Albergati. During the 
 season of 1757-58 he was asked by a nephew of the 
 reigning Pope, who dabbled in theatrical ventures, 
 to visit Rome and write comedies for the Tordinona 
 theatre, and never having been in the Eternal City, 
 he accepted the invitation, avidly glad, no doubt, of 
 the chance to escape from the rivals and others who 
 were hectoring him. Promising to furnish the San 
 Luca theatre with novelties during his absence, he 
 set out in the autumn, he and his good wife arriving 
 at Rome in December, after experiencing no mishap 
 more serious than that of being choused at Loretto by 
 a vender of holy images. 
 
 The dilettante who had engaged Goldoni invited 
 him to dine at his palace and meet the actors of the 
 Tordinona theatre, a troupe, as he discovered, of 
 Neapolitan masks, entirely without experience in 
 written comedy. Moreover, in accordance with 
 Roman custom, they were all men, even the soubrette 
 being of the masculine persuasion. When he saw 
 this motley crew, Goldoni's countenance fell at the 
 thought that his Venetian comedies were to be in- 
 terpreted by Pulcinella in the Neapolitan dialect. 
 He had brought with him for his Roman debut a 
 
 18 Letter to G. A. Arconati-Visconti, Dec. 14, 1756. 
 
220 GOLDONI 
 
 comedy, 19 and while these gawky buffoons, who had 
 never acted written roles, were manfully struggling 
 to master their lines, he sought distraction from his 
 worries in the sights and gaieties of Rome. 
 
 Being introduced to several persons of quality 
 through the letters he had had the foresight to bring 
 with him from Venice, the doors of Roman society 
 were rapidly opened to him. A cardinal placed a 
 carriage at his disposal; another obtained for him 
 an audience with the Pope. After conversing for 
 nearly an hour with His Holiness about his nephews 
 and nieces, he forgot to kiss his toe when retiring, 
 whereupon the pontiff hemmed and hawed so per- 
 sistently, that he recovered from his absence of mind 
 sufficiently to undo his blunder and receive the bene- 
 diction. Every day he saw cardinals, princes, prin- 
 cesses, and foreign ministers, he tells us, and was all 
 but impoverished by the tips he was obliged, in ac- 
 cordance with the Roman usage, to give their valets. 
 He visited St. Peter's, which beggared his descrip- 
 tion, and he did not fail to examine the other precious 
 monuments of the Holy City. Meanwhile he lodged 
 happily in the Via Condotti, near the Corso, with a 
 married abate, Pietro Poloni by name, the title of 
 abate being at that time only a generic or compli- 
 mentary one. 
 
 Though Poloni "would not have failed for all the 
 gold in the world" to pray every day in St. Peter's, 
 he was fond of pleasure and good cheer. There was 
 
 19 La Vedova spiritosa. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 221 
 
 always a special dish on the table at dinner, cooked 
 by his own hands for "his lodger," who "could not 
 vex him more than by dining out." Indeed, on one 
 occasion when Goldoni absented himself, the worthy 
 abate waxed so warm that he threw a stew-pan and 
 its savoury viand out of the window, vowing that no- 
 body should eat it if not the dramatist. Poloni's 
 pride was so flattered by having a notable man be- 
 neath his roof that when maskers were showering 
 the occupants of carriages with confetti at carnival 
 time, and riderless Barbary steeds were raced through 
 the Corso near by, he hung a sign on his balcony, say- 
 ing it was reserved for the advocate Goldoni. He 
 invited so many of his friends to his house, however, 
 that his illustrious lodger was all but crowded off 
 the balcony reserved for him, his guests being so 
 loath to leave the latter's distinguished presence that 
 when the day's sport was ended, Poloni was forced 
 to send for violins and turn the rout into a ball, "the 
 night being spent brilliantly and everybody going 
 away happy." 
 
 Yet long before such glory was bestowed upon him 
 by his fawning host, Goldoni was humiliated by the 
 actors of the Tordinona theatre. A barber's boy and 
 a carpenter's apprentice were cast for the female parts 
 in the comedy he had selected for his debut; and at 
 rehearsal the declamation of the entire company was 
 "so extravagant and absurd" that he protested vig- 
 orously against "the utter lack of truth and intelli- 
 gence" displayed by this troupe of Bottoms and 
 
222 GOLDONI 
 
 Quinces. "Every one has his way, sir," said the Pul- 
 cinella tartly, "and this is ours." In order that there 
 might be less of it to jar his hearing, the despairing 
 dramatist cut the play a good third, and tiresome as 
 was the task, he attended every rehearsal. 
 
 The Tordinona theatre, he discovered, was "the 
 resort of navvies and sailors," and on the opening 
 night he sat in a box, looking down upon a mere 
 baker's dozen of them; for when it was noised abroad 
 that Pulcinella would not appear, these lovers of im- 
 provised comedy stayed away from their favourite 
 haunt. "The curtain rose; the Neapolitan actors 
 played as disastrously as they had rehearsed; the 
 meagre audience shouted lustily for their beloved 
 Pulcinella; the play went from bad to worse." In 
 despair Goldoni fled to the opera, where his good 
 wife, foreseeing the failure of his comedy, had pre- 
 ceded him in company with the daughter of their 
 Roman host. There he found the singers incurring 
 the anger of the pit, a balm to his own chagrin he thus 
 describes : 
 
 I entered the box, and though I said not a word, they saw grief 
 written in my face. "Console yourself," said the young woman 
 laughingly; "things are not going any better here; the music is 
 not at all pleasing : not an air, not a recitative, not a ritornello that 
 is making a hit. Buranello is extraordinarily far from being him- 
 self." She was a musician, she could judge, and you could see 
 that everybody was of her opinion. 
 
 The Roman parterre is terrible: the dbati sit in judgment both 
 vigorously and noisily; there are no guards, no police; cat-calls, 
 shouts, laughter, invectives, resound from all parts of the house. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 223 
 
 . . . What would have become of me, if I had stayed at the Tor- 
 dinona until the end of my play ? I tremble to think of it. 
 
 Abandoning all hope of shaping his gawky Nea- 
 politans into adept comedians, he decided on the mor- 
 row to introduce musical interludes between the acts 
 of the improvised comedies they were accustomed to 
 play; and finding in the shops of Rome the best of fi 
 his merry plays for music on sale, he revived some of 
 them so successfully, that his dilettante manager was 
 spared a heavy financial loss. For his failure at the 
 Tordinona Goldoni found solace at the Capranica 
 theatre where, it appears, his published comedies had 
 been played successfully during several seasons, 
 Pamela Unmarried (Pamela nubile) being upon its 
 boards at the time of his visit to Rome. Delighted 
 with the acting of the Capranica comedians in this 
 piece, he wrote a sequel for their use which he called 
 Pamela Married (Pamela maritata), but he left 
 Rome before it was produced and was, therefore, 
 spared the mortification of its failure. 
 
 He had intended to visit Naples before returning to 
 his native city, he says in his memoirs, and adds that he 
 wrote the Parmesan minister in Venice asking him 
 for Neapolitan introductions. As he received no an- 
 swer from this diplomat, he interpreted his silence 
 as an expression of the ill feeling existing between 
 the courts of Parma and Naples and decided, there- 
 fore, to abandon his journey, although assured, so he 
 states, of an opportunity to visit Naples "without it 
 costing him an obol." As the tone of the letters Fran- 
 
224 GOLDONI 
 
 cesco Vendramin wrote him at this time 20 indicates 
 dissatisfaction, it seems more likely that he abandoned 
 his trip to Naples through fear of managerial dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 Vendramin, it appears, was vexed with him not 
 only because of the ill success of some comedies he 
 had written before his departure for Rome, notably 
 The Intrepid Woman (La Donna forte) which could 
 not pass the censor, but also because of his attempt to 
 introduce his copyist into the ranks of the San Luca 
 company in the humble post of terzo amoroso, or 
 third juvenile. This protege was "not a kinsman," 
 Goldoni is careful to point out, "but he had agreed to 
 assist him, and as a Christian and a gentleman, he was 
 obligated," he says, "to give the young man bread." 
 Vendramin, however, had heard unfavourable ac- 
 counts from Rome regarding the aspiring copyist and 
 "did not see what his playwright's obligations had 
 to do with his own theatre" ; therefore he demurred 
 at engaging him. 21 Goldoni did not like his man- 
 ager's attitude in this matter, nor the indifference of 
 the Venetian public toward his most recent comedies. 
 In a letter written to Vendramin at this time, 22 after 
 taking occasion to say that not only one, but two 
 Roman theatres stood ready to produce his works, he 
 thus unburdens his heart regarding his reluctance to 
 return to Venice: 
 
 20 Dino Mantovani : op. cit. 
 
 21 It is interesting to note that this young man, Giovanni Simone by 
 name, eventually became a successful comedian; thereby proving that 
 Goldoni's confidence was not misplaced. See L. Rasi: op. cit. 
 
 22 Rome, March 17, 1759. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 225 
 
 My hesitation does not arise from fickleness, calculation, ill will, 
 nor even from a desire for revenge, and much less from an inade- 
 quate realization of my obligations toward Your Excellency, the 
 company, and the Venetian public, all of whom I esteem, love, 
 and respect; but rather from being morally convinced that Your 
 Excellency would easily be persuaded to release me from my en- 
 gagement. This conviction is based upon the poor success of my 
 comedies during the past year; upon the restlessness and gossip of 
 the actors, and (if you will permit me to say so) upon the readi- 
 ness with which Your Excellency has continually mortified me 
 in the matter of my recommendation of my young protege. All 
 this causes me to believe that I might be quietly left in peace for 
 a year at least, and the absence of a year does not disturb our 
 agreement for ten successive years, should the two parties come to 
 an understanding on this point. 
 
 But Vendramin did not view favourably a prolong- 
 ing of his playwright's absence; therefore Goldoni 
 parted from his solicitous host, Poloni, in the middle 
 of a noxious Roman summer, and retreating from the 
 field of his artistic defeat, he retired to Bologna, 
 where he remained more than two months preparing 
 material for the Venetian theatrical season, and im- 
 portuning Vendramin by letter to pay for the come- 
 dies he was sending him. First, while still in Rome, 
 he asks for the bonus of a hundred ducats Vendramin 
 had agreed to pay him semi-annually as long as his 
 work was satisfactory, a sum the manager sends re- 
 luctantly; then, from Bologna, he asks for a hundred 
 and fifty more on account of two plays finished and 
 forwarded to Venice, the matter of money having be- 
 come truly "the important point," he says, for he has 
 had to borrow six sequins, and moreover, he must 
 
226 GOLDONI 
 
 settle the debts his brother has contracted at Modena. 
 In truth, his letters to Vendramin at this time show 
 distrust and weariness. He is convinced the manager 
 is annoyed with him, and he begs once more for the 
 release he will be constrained to take himself after 
 the year is ended. He will not ask again for money, 
 he continues, which is not forthcoming, since God 
 will provide for him. "When I do not write, I am 
 criticized," he laments, "and when I do I am tor- 
 mented. Be charitable with me," he implores Ven- 
 dramin, "and display that sympathy you were wont 
 to show in our conversations." 23 
 
 Although depressed by failure and by debt, and ap- 
 parently distrustful of his own genius, Goldoni strove 
 diligently to retrieve his fortunes by means of an 
 elaborate theatrical scheme he presented to Vendra- 
 min at the same time that he was quarrelling about 
 the funds he believed to be his due. He planned to 
 write nine plays, each symbolic of a muse, "and 
 varying," as he says, "in metre and conception," the se- 
 ries to be introduced by a versified prologue, 24 in 
 which Apollo and the Muses were to appear and, as in 
 the case of The Comic Theatre, describe the author's 
 plan to the Venetian public. But Vendramin, per- 
 haps from a desire to keep Goldoni within bounds, 
 was loath to approve of the scheme in its entirety. 
 For fully two months letters were passing between 
 Venice and Bologna, Goldoni enthusiastically up- 
 holding his plan as "something at once extraordinary 
 
 23 Dino Mantovani: op. cit. 24 // Monte parnasso. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 227 
 
 and practical," and Vendramin opposing it at first, 
 then acquiescing, albeit reluctantly. Meanwhile, the 
 dramatist was clamouring for money, but not until 
 Vendramin informed him that the final ducats he 
 demanded must be collected by him in person, did he 
 show a willingness to start for his native city. 
 
 In his memoirs he says that in returning from Rome 
 to Venice he passed through Tuscany, where he re- 
 visited Pisa, Leghorn, and Lucca, and "began to bid 
 adieu to Italy without knowing that he was soon to 
 leave it for ever." As he did not depart from Rome 
 until the first days of July, and had reached Bologna 
 by the seventeenth of that month, his trip through 
 Tuscany, if made on the way to the latter city, was 
 hurried indeed. As he remained in Bologna, accord- 
 ing to his own letters, two months and a half, and had 
 reached Venice prior to October I3th, 25 it seems un- 
 likely that he went two hundred miles or more out 
 of his way at a moment when Vendramin was urging 
 him to hasten back for the opening of the theatrical 
 season. However this may be, he had reached Ven- 
 ice in the beginning of October, 1759, after an absence 
 of nearly a year, and there resumed actively his post 
 as poet of the San Luca theatre. 
 
 During his absence he had sent the Vendramins 
 several plays, the last being a comedy 2Q inspired by 
 the lovers' quarrels he had witnessed in the family 
 
 25 Goldoni's letter of this date in Masi's Lettere dl Carlo Goldoni, 
 and the correspondence between Francesco Vendramin and Goldoni from 
 June 23 to Sept. n, 1759, in Mantovani's collection. 
 
 26 Gil Innamorati. 
 
228 GOLDONI 
 
 of his Roman host. The most notable event, how- 
 ever, of the season following his return from Rome 
 was the presentation toward its close of The Boors 
 (I Rusteghi), a comedy in which his naturalistic gen- 
 ius stands forth pre-eminent; while during the fol- 
 lowing winter he produced The New House (La 
 Casa nova) and The Chioggian Brawls (Le Baruffe 
 Chiozzotte), two other plays in dialect that vie with 
 The Boors in naturalistic mastery. 27 Thus gloriously 
 was Roman defeat retrieved by Venetian victory. 
 
 When the second season subsequent to his return 
 had been brought to a successful finish, Goldoni was 
 able to announce triumphantly at a Lenten supper of 
 his friends the forthcoming publication of a new sub- 
 scription edition of his plays. 28 As the guests had 
 "eaten every fish from the Adriatic to the Lake of 
 Garda," and "the wine and other liquors had cheered 
 them," the moment was auspicious for the launching 
 of a literary venture ; so, when paper and pens were 
 brought, each of the eighteen gentlemen present sub- 
 scribed for ten copies, the author to quote his own 
 words "catching by one cast of his net a hundred 
 and eighty subscriptions." Yet, in spite of the liber- 
 ality of his friends and the success of his masterly 
 comedies, he was growing weary of struggling in- 
 gloriously with inferior craftsmen for the public's 
 favour; therefore, when he received from Paris the 
 offer of a two years' engagement with Les Comediens 
 
 27 In his memoirs Goldoni places the production of / Rusteghi in 1757, 
 but it took place in 1760. See Appendix A. 
 
 28 The Pasquali edition, 1761. 
 
PLAYWRIGHT OF SAN LUCA 229 
 
 du rol de la troupe italienne, he turned a willing ear. 
 But before the story of his long and futile battle 
 with rivals and critics is told, together with his touch- 
 ing farewell to his native land, a detour must be made 
 into the dramatic field where he laboured so diligently 
 during the fourteen years of his service with Mede- 
 bac and the Vendramins. He wrote during those 
 years, it will be recalled, approximately a hundred 
 comedies, several tragedies and tragi-comedies, and 
 over fifty merry plays for music, in all a prodigious 
 literary output. The most brilliant, as well as the 
 most prolific period of his career, it was graced, as 
 has already been pointed out, by all his masterpieces 
 except one. Of the comedies written during these 
 fecund years, about seventy are in prose. As the most 
 ambitious of the thirty-odd pieces in verse written 
 at this time were inspired by literary quarrels still 
 to be narrated, the account of these versified come- 
 dies, as well as the story of the bickerings that in- 
 spired a few of them, will be deferred until the prose 
 comedies of this glorious period shall have been ex- 
 amined. These, it will be remembered, are not 
 grouped structurally in the present work, but in ac- 
 cordance with their social aspects, the four chapters 
 that follow being devoted to their exposition. 
 
VIII 
 
 COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 
 
 VENICE, "the Sybaris of Europe," as Ugo 
 Foscolo, the poet and man of letters, called 
 her, was in Goldoni's day an enchanting 
 haunt for the idle and the dissipated. "Free and 
 happy abode of pleasure and beauty," said Algarotti, 
 the Venetian friend of William Pitt, an opinion con- 
 curred in by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and many 
 another globe trotter of that time. Into the councils 
 of Europe Venice no longer entered with her proud 
 head erect. Her diplomacy was all cringing court- 
 esy, her attitude that of an armed nay, rather an un- 
 armed neutrality; for her strength had waned, and 
 the role she played was that of Pantalone in his slip- 
 pered dotage a weak though crafty old republic, 
 ever distrustful of those about her. 
 
 Cutting this sorry figure abroad, she was so senilely 
 indulgent at home that her children did as they 
 pleased provided they did not meddle with politics 
 or religion. Indeed, she was perpetually en fete, "a 
 lightsome, wanton city of masquerades, serenades, 
 travesties and amusements, whence golden-oared 
 barks departed for Cythera by paper lantern light." 1 
 
 1 Philippe Monnier: op. cit. 
 230 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 231 
 
 With two hundred cafes that never closed their doors ; 
 with five times as many theatres as the Parisians then 
 enjoyed; with a Ridotto, or municipal gaming-house, 
 where both men and women punted at faro; with 
 casini, or gambling clubs; and countless resorts of 
 an even more questionable character, the inhabitants 
 of Venice did not lack the means of turning night 
 into day. Indeed, in the words of a Venetian com- 
 mentator, "There were no nights in Venice; there 
 shone eternal day." 2 Except for a small and morose 
 minority of austere merchants to whom the tradi- 
 tions of the past still clung, the population of this 
 pleasure-loving city was a festival population living 
 in the streets or on the moonlit canals a people 
 seeking pleasure or catering to pleasure, for, in the 
 eighteenth century, Venice vied so successfully with 
 Paris as the pleasure house of Europe that a the Car- 
 nival of Venice" spelled languorous, insidious de- 
 light. 
 
 And what a carnival it was, of time, as well as of 
 blithesome pleasure! While its merry king reigned, 
 all Venice, from the patrician to the humblest drone, 
 went masked. In the streets, the drawing-rooms, the 
 theatres, convents, palaces, or gaming-houses, all were 
 equal if shielded by a mystic strip of white satin. 
 There was but one personality to be respected Sior 
 Maschera. To quote that consummate rogue, Casa- 
 nova: "The nobility mingled with the people, the 
 
 2 Luigi Orteschi: Sulle passioni, i costumi e il modo di vivere de* 
 Veneziani. 
 
232 GOLDONI 
 
 prince with his subjects, the uncommon with the com- 
 mon, the beautiful with the hideous, there being no 
 longer either magistrates or laws in force." 3 
 
 A little mass for the morning, a little game of cards 
 for the afternoon, and a little sweetheart for the even- 
 ing (massetta, bassetta, e donnetta) was the formula 
 of Venetian life. A winter of carnival with Folly 
 continuously shaking her bells, a summer of idle 
 pleasure on the banks of the Brenta, was the Venetian 
 nobleman's calendar an unbridled year of gaiety; 
 for even in Lent, though the theatres were closed, the 
 door of the gaming-house stood open and that of the 
 little sweetheart's boudoir would open to a gentle 
 knock. 
 
 "The Sybaris of Europe!" Foscolo knew well the 
 frailty of a city wealthy like that Lucanian town to 
 which he compared her, and, like her, enervated by 
 luxury. Goldoni knew, too, that his native Venice 
 was morally corrupt, and, in his kindly way, he 
 preached many a true sermon on the social depravity 
 of his day. In a score or more of his comedies, Vene- 
 tian society is shown, idle, luxurious, incontinent, and 
 prodigal; but, though he paints the vices of his native 
 Venice, he points helpful, optimistic morals too, and 
 not once does he admit that society is hopelessly rotten 
 or incapable of betterment. His plays of this nature 
 are no longer harlequinades, but genuine comedies 
 of manners, in which the society of an age is pictured 
 in vivid colours by the sprightly brush strokes of a 
 
 3 Confutazione della storia del governo veneto, d'Amelot de la 
 Houssaye. 
 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 233 
 
 genial painter, familiar from birth with the scenes 
 and people he portrayed. 
 
 The spirit of carnival permeates The Artful Widow 
 (La Vedova scaltra), a comedy written during 
 Goldoni's first season as the playwright of the Sant' 
 Angelo Theatre, and the first of his plays that may 
 be justly called a comedy of manners. Here is pic- 
 tured the pleasure-loving cosmopolitanism of Venice 
 after her glory had departed Venice, the play- 
 ground of Europe at carnival time; here only a sug- 
 gestion of the Improvised Comedy remains, Panta- 
 lone and II Dottore, except for the former's Venetian 
 speech, being no longer masks but the conventional 
 old men of the modern stage the one, an elderly 
 suitor; the other, the father of marriageable daugh- 
 ters. To be sure, the deliciously funny lazzl of Ar- 
 lecchino hold the play together; but these lazzi, be- 
 sides being written, are necessary to the unfolding 
 of the story, and this particular Arlecchino a doltish 
 waiter at a coffee-house, who is ever bobbing up in a 
 way so muddy-brained that the plot is thickened 
 thereby is so delightful a characterization that he 
 may be called the apotheosis of Arlecchino. 
 
 The story concerns an attractive widow, for whose 
 hand a stolid Briton, a proud Spaniard, a light- 
 hearted Frenchman, and an ardent Italian, vie. The 
 Briton sends her a jewel; the Frenchman, a portrait 
 of himself; the Spaniard, his family tree; the Italian, 
 naught but words of fervent love. These gifts, Ar- 
 lecchino, the bearer, so confuses that Rosaura, the 
 
234 GOLDONI 
 
 winsome protagonist, is for a time at a loss to under- 
 stand from whom each present comes. Rosaura is 
 artful, as the name of the play implies, yet possessed 
 of good common sense. Though anxious to remarry 
 in order to be free from bonds imposed by her father 
 and her brother-in-law, she is resolved not to choose 
 a husband from among the international quartette of 
 lovers pursuing her until she is satisfied that her sec- 
 ond husband will prove more satisfactory than the 
 first, her lord and master on that occasion having 
 been a doddering rich man. Her quandary, and the 
 sagacity with which she views it, are best told in her 
 own words : 
 
 Here am I with four lovers, each of whom has his merits and 
 his eccentricities. The Italian is faithful, yet too jealous; the 
 Englishman, ingenuous but fickle; the Frenchman, gallant but too 
 affected ; the Spaniard, passionate but too sombre. Wishing to 
 be free from family subjection, I see that I must choose one of 
 them, but which I cannot yet discern. I fear, however, that I 
 should prefer the Italian count to all the others, although he 
 sometimes annoys me with his jealous suspicions. He was the 
 first to declare himself, and, moreover, he has the advantage over 
 the others of being a fellow-countryman a decided advantage in 
 every land on earth. 
 
 In order to satisfy herself regarding their fidelity, 
 she goes forth in mask and domino at carnival time 
 to flirt with her admirers one by one, while feigning 
 J to be the countrywoman of each. Having wrung a 
 token of love from all except the Italian, together with 
 the promise of a rendezvous, she scorns British 
 wealth, French conceit, and Spanish pride for true 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 235 
 
 Italian love, the fickleness of her foreign admirers 
 being unmasked by a disclosure of the souvenirs each 
 has given her while believing her to be a charming 
 compatriot on amorous adventure bent. Her hand 
 being awarded the faithful, though jealous, Italian, 
 this spirited picture of patrician Venice at carnival 
 time comes to a happy conclusion. 
 
 Indeed, this play is a patriotic comedy, in which 
 Venetian upper-class society is depicted gallantly by 
 a loving son of Venice. The licence of the Carnival 
 is used, however, as a dainty pink fan to hide an art- 
 ful widow's efforts to discern which of four admirers 
 loves her most, instead of as a scarlet cloak for the 
 libertinage that made the Venice of that day the 
 Mecca of pleasure-loving foreigners. Not only does 
 patriotism inspire Goldoni's scenes, but a modern- 
 ness as well, far in advance of the times, as when 
 Rosaura exclaims, "Those laws that dispose of wom- 
 en's hearts at the cost of their undoing are, alas! too 
 barbarous." In truth, this charming comedy was a 
 bold step forward, for here Italy had a worthy writ- 
 ten comedy of its own, with both atmosphere and 
 characterization; its patriotic spirit being thus ex- 
 pressed by the artful widow herself : 
 
 I pride myself on being of a land where good taste reigns as 
 much as anywhere else in the world. Italy to-day frames the 
 rules for good manners: she represents what is best in all coun- 
 tries, leaving to them what is undesirable; a fact that makes her 
 wonderful, and enamours the people of all lands with a sojourn on 
 her shores. 
 
 Yet in spite of this patriotic utterance, light- 
 
236 GOLDONI 
 
 hearted Venice was living then, for the joy of living 
 it, a careless life of idleness and gratification. Her 
 streets, her cafes and her gaming-houses were 
 thronged with merrymakers in carnival garb; trou- 
 ble-makers, too, since, under the graceful folds of the 
 carnival domino, ardent hands were often clasped 
 while a rendezvous was being whispered by rouged 
 lips hidden beneath the carnival mask. Away from 
 the crowded Piazza, away from the Ridotto where 
 gamblers with flushed faces punted at faro, many a 
 gondola sped swiftly, the moonlit water of the canal 
 lapping its long, black prow. While dripping oars 
 creaked and nimble gondoliers sang plaintively to 
 the rhythm of their sweeping strokes, many a pair of 
 lovers caressed beneath a dark canopy. At many a 
 sombre water-door, a gondola lay tugging at its 
 moorings, its gondoliers waiting for Cupid's votaries 
 within ; for of that decaying age it may be said truth- 
 fully, Rien ne pese et rlen ne dure least of all mari- 
 tal vows. 
 
 Love, a naked little urchin of the canals, brimful 
 of mirth, but without a tittle of moral sense, was here, 
 there, and everywhere, darting from heart to heart 
 and whispering tempting words at the Ridotto 
 while the gambler staked his sequins ; in a box at the 
 theatre while dull buffoons repeated their time-worn 
 lazzi, in the crowded Piazza, at the bottega del caffe, 
 the conversazione, and even the convent, where the 
 nuns wore low-cut gowns and frizzed their hair. 
 The tales the tawny gondoliers might have told had 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 237 
 
 they willed doubtless would have put those of Casa- 
 nova to shame, but they knew the value of silence. 
 ' 'Voga,' they said, and having spat in the water, they 
 bent to the oar in silence, bearing toward oblivion 
 the wavering mystery of a frail coffin of love." 4 
 
 Society not only winked at infidelity, but actually 
 legitimatized it; legitimatized infidelity being no 
 contradiction in terms when applied to the fashiona- 
 ble married life in Venice in the eighteenth century, 
 where every woman of fashion, to keep her social 
 standing, must be attended in public by her cicisbeo, 
 or, as he was also called, her cavalier servente, a spe- 
 cies of lover-footman ever ready to offer her his arm, 
 to carry her gloves, her muff, or even her poodle-dog. 
 At the church door, the cicisbeo proffered his lady 
 holy water daintily from his finger-tips ; kneeling be- 
 side her in the nave, he held her prayer-book open at 
 the lesson of the day; 5 the service ended, he called 
 her gondola, and reclining beside her on the soft 
 cushions, talked fondly of love, while claiming love's 
 abandonments. On the promenade, at the theatre or 
 the gambling-house, he was ever by her side. At my 
 lady's toilette in the morning, he must preside, to 
 offer counsel as to the modish arrangement of her 
 
 4 Philippe Monnier: op. cit. 
 
 5 The use of places of worship for rendezvous and love-making had 
 become so notorious that the Council of Ten, on March 3, 1797, finally 
 promulgated an order to the effect that "decency in churches must be 
 more severely respected," forbidding women to come to the service im- 
 modestly dressed, and authorizing church authorities "if need be, to 
 proceed with rigour against the guilty connivance of fathers and hus- 
 bands." 
 
238 GOLDONI 
 
 beribboned scuffia upon the very scented curls he had 
 helped to arrange, ay, even to lace her stays, fasten 
 her garters, or, kneeling with her dainty shoe upon 
 his bended knee, to tie the laces with the tact and 
 grace of a well-bred cavalier, for, if he served my 
 lady not well, it was her privilege to dismiss him per- 
 emptorily and choose a successor. 
 
 And what of her lord and master meanwhile? Al- 
 though the cicisbeo might enter my lady's boudoir un- 
 announced, her husband must knock, and if by chance 
 he were present at the morning toilette, either nod 
 approvingly or offer expert criticism on the manner 
 of the cicisbeo's service. But the husband seldom 
 bothered his wife at the hour of the morning toilette 
 or at any other hour, for that matter his duty being to 
 serve some other man's wife just as assiduously as 
 some other man served his, this infectious interpreta- 
 tion of the golden rule being the governing law of 
 cicisbeism. Though, in some instances, the cicisbeo 
 was a true serving-knight who did not overstep his 
 privileges, such a social system could lead to naught 
 but a general debauchery of morals ; for, if my lady 
 must be in the fashion, so must the grisette, who, to 
 quote an Italian of the day, would "rather be without 
 bread than without a cavalier servente." Goldoni 
 himself thus summarizes the life of the ladies who 
 were attended by cavalieri serventi in one of his merry 
 plays for music: 6 
 
 6 Bertoldo, Bertoldino, e Cacasenno. 
 
CICISBEI AND MY LADY 
 
 Museo Correr 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 239 
 
 The practises I'll frankly tell to you 
 
 Of every city lady fair : 
 Two cicisbei in her retinue, 
 
 One stationed here, the other there; 
 For aye her head turns, full inclined to try 
 A soft glance here, and there a sigh." 
 
 Cicisbeism originated in Spain. There, when a 
 husband could not go abroad with his wife, it was the 
 rule that she must be accompanied by a young kins- 
 man whose duty it was to protect her against the im- 
 portunities of gallants. Introduced into Italy, this 
 custom was adopted as a new cry of fashion, but with- 
 out the relationship feature. Planted first at Genoa, 
 this exotic soon flourished at Bologna and Florence. 
 Loath to accept Spanish manners, Venice was slower 
 in sowing its seeds, yet there, too, it finally waxed into 
 a noxious overgrowth. 
 
 There was need for a patriot with the courage to 
 denounce it, when Goldoni arose in the market place 
 to say that cicisbeism was a disgrace to Venice ; yet 
 he said it in a way so satirically suave that, far from 
 being offended, Venice laughed heartily. Less vig- 
 orous in his strictures upon society than Parini, the 
 first notable poet of modern Italy, he fought with a 
 rapier nay, rather with a buttoned foil, which, 
 touching society's defenceless points, betrayed its 
 weakness without the infliction of painful wounds, his 
 kindness and sanity preventing him from riding full 
 tilt at stone walls or windmills. His people are the 
 every-day people of an every-day world, not majestic 
 world types such as Shakespeare and Moliere created. 
 
24 o GOLDONI 
 
 Moreover, he was unaware that the moral cracks in 
 his age were a serious menace to its stability; so he 
 lived tranquilly, without fear of the morrow, attack- 
 ing the moral rottenness of cicisbeism in a kindly, de- 
 cent way, because, as he says, "I had long regarded 
 with astonishment those singular beings, called in 
 Italy cicisbei, who are martyrs to gallantry and slaves 
 to the whims of the fair sex." 
 
 In nearly a score of his comedies of manners, cicis- 
 beism is handled; 7 a subject he was obliged to treat 
 with discretion, the patricians of Venice brooking no 
 criticism of their caste. Whenever it seemed likely 
 that offence might be given, he laid the scene else- 
 where than in Venice ; hence, when cicisbeism became 
 the subject of his satire, cities where hateful Spaniards 
 ruled, were discreetly chosen as the scene. More- 
 over, the nobility he depicts is the lesser nobility 
 the marquises and counts never the princes and 
 dukes. In his Torquato Tasso, for instance, the Duke 
 of Ferrara necessary for the unfolding of the plot 
 is referred to by the various characters but is never 
 shown upon the stage. 8 In his impeachment of the 
 depraved society of his day, his daring does not equal 
 that of Moliere, who lived in an even more despotic 
 
 7 II Cavalier e e la dama, La Famiglia dell' antiquario, La Dama 
 prudente, La Moglie saggia, La Villeggiatura, II Festino, La Sposa 
 sagace, La Casa nova, Le Femmine puntigliose, II Cavaliere di buon 
 gusto, II Geloso avaro, L'Adulatore, II Cavaliere di spirito, L'Uomo 
 prudente, I Rusteghi. 
 
 8 "The mistrustful Venetian aristocracy would never have tolerated 
 the portrayal and revelation of itself upon the stage in the ignoble sight 
 of the subject multitude." Giuseppe Guerzoni: // Teatro italiano net 
 secolo XVI1L 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 241 
 
 age; yet during the eighteenth century, all Italian 
 writers of comedy attacked the follies of society, par- 
 ticularly cicisbeism, with timidity; therefore it seems 
 unjust to charge Goldoni with an undue want of cour- 
 age. 
 
 Although cicisbeism is depicted strikingly in The 
 Cavalier and the Lady (II Cavaliere e la dama), it 
 is but an atmospheric background for the virtue of 
 Eleonora, a poor but estimable lady, whose husband 
 has been banished, and whom, to quote her own 
 words, "necessity can never teach to forget her duty." 
 Although she lives humbly with a faithful hand- 
 maiden, and endeavours to fill an empty larder with 
 the proceeds of her fancy work, an unscrupulous law- 
 yer, with a case to prosecute for her, empties her purse 
 as rapidly as a generous landlord and a constant lover 
 find surreptitious means of filling it. Don Rodrigo, 
 the latter, foils the lawyer, however, and meanwhile 
 loves Eleonora truly but respectfully throughout 
 three sentimental acts, until her husband, dying an 
 exile, bequeaths her to him. Moreover, he is a moral 
 exponent, his refusal to fight a duel being the source 
 of many a sneer on the part of the patrician box-hold- 
 ers, yet a merited rebuke to a savage custom. 
 
 And what of cicisbeism? the reader will ask, Don 
 Rodrigo being not a real but an ideal cicisbeo kind, 
 faithful, and discreet. This faultless hero and his 
 immaculate sweetheart, to quote Goldoni, are "two 
 virtuous people who serve as a contrast to the ridicu- 
 lous people" against whom the satire of the play is di- 
 
242 GOLDONI 
 
 rected, sprightly scenes that expose society's foibles 
 being interspersed with the lachrymose scenes. 
 
 Though Eleonora and Rodrigo make love in the 
 mawkish way of Richardson and his school, men and 
 women of fashion appear who are drawn to the life 
 Don Flaminio and Donna Claudia, his wife; Don 
 Alonso, the latter's cicisbeo from a sense of duty 
 rather than choice; and Donna Flaminia, the lady 
 whom Claudia's husband serves. Donna Claudia, 
 however, is the arch worlding of them all, une femme 
 detraquee, such as French boudoir novelists delight in 
 depicting. Witness this scene, in which, arising long 
 after the sun has crossed the meridian, she nags her 
 poor footman to distraction : 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Balestra. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Your ladyship! 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Bring me that small table. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Does your ladyship wish anything else? 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 No. (Exit Balestra.) My callers are late this morning. 
 Balestra. 
 
 BALESTRA (Re-entering.) 
 Your ladyship! 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Havre you seen Don Alonso? 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 No, your ladyship. 
 

 COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 243 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 That will do. (Exit Balestra.) My cavalier is becoming ne- 
 glectful. I am afraid he's growing a trifle cold. He no longer 
 comes to take his morning chocolate with me. (Calls.) Balestra. 
 
 BALESTRA (Re-entering.) 
 Your ladyship! 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Bring me a chair. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Here, your ladyship. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 (Seating herself.) (Aside.) At this hour my husband is 
 surely paying his respects to his lady-love. (To Balestra.) What 
 are you doing, standing there stiff as a poker? 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Awaiting your ladyship's orders. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 When I wish you, I'll call. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Yes, your ladyship. (Exit Balestra.) 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 It bores me to distraction to be alone. Balestra. 
 (Re-enter Balestra.) 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Balestra. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Here, your ladyship. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Why didn't you answer, you donkey? 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 I thought your ladyship saw me. (Aside.) Pest take her. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 What time did your master go out? 
 
244 GOLDONI 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 At eight o'clock, 9 your ladyship. (Starts to leave.) 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Wait. Did he leave no word ? 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 None, your ladyship. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 You may go. That's all I wish. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 I go, I go. (Exit.) 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 If no caller comes, I'll go to see Donna Virginia. Balestra. 
 
 BALESTRA (Re-entering.) 
 Your ladyship ! 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Tell the coachman to harness the horses. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Yes, your ladyship. (Exit.) 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 But to go driving without a cavalier? No, that's something 
 that simply cannot be done. Balestra. 
 
 BALESTRA (Re-entering.) 
 Your ladyship ! 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 I wish nothing. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Your ladyship wishes nothing? 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 No. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Your ladyship does not wish the carriage? 
 
 9 Literally, at thirteen o'clock, in accordance with the Italian system of 
 recording time, the new day beginning at sunset in the eighteenth cen- 
 tury. 
 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 245 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 No, I tell you; plague take you! 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 (Aside.) What a brute, what a brute! (Exit.) 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Really, Don Alonso is too rude. If he continues to neglect 
 me, I'll be tempted to let Chevalier Asdrubel attend me. 
 
 BALESTRA (Re-entering.) 
 Your lady 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 The deuce take you; I didn't call. 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 A visitor. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Who? 
 
 BALESTRA 
 
 Don Alonso, to pay his respects. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 You donkey, a cavalier servante does not need to be announced. 10 
 
 Redolent Don Alonso enters, to play the equivocal 
 role of a cicisbeo not over-fond of his task; then 
 Donna Virginia, the inamorata of Claudia's husband, 
 drops in to gossip, the conversation turning upon vir- 
 tuous Donna Eleonora, whose character when torn to 
 shreds by the women is defended by Don Alonso, a 
 rather good sort of young man who has been drawn 
 into this maelstrom of worldliness because he has not 
 the strength to stem its noisome current; whereupon 
 Donna Claudia lashes him soundly with her malig- 
 nant tongue for daring to uphold a woman who has 
 
 10 Act I, Scene 8. 
 
246 GOLDONI 
 
 lost caste. At this juncture, Don Flaminio, her hus- 
 band, enters. Goldoni's words shall tell what ensues. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 .What's all this noise about? Why all this rumpus? 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 Your wife has been abusing poor Don Alonso. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Egad, but my wife's an odd one. You don't know her yet. 
 Some day you'll know her and then you'll sympathize with me 
 when I'm impatient. 
 
 ALONSO 
 My dear fellow, I've not been negligent in my duties. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Then why did you all lose your tempers? 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 I'll tell you. Don Alonso took it upon himself to defend 
 Donna Eleonora. He won't have it that Don Rodrigo is her 
 cavalier servente, or, to be more exact, her benefactor. We, who 
 know how things are, differed from him. He grew obstinate and 
 politely told us we lied. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Oh, Don Alonso, I beg your pardon, but you're behaving badly. 
 You should make it a rule never to praise one woman in the pre- 
 sence of others. Moreover, don't you know that to contradict a 
 woman is like sailing up stream against the wind? 
 
 ALONSO 
 
 I know it perfectly; yet believe me, I can't let a virtuous 
 woman's reputation suffer. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 What's that? Does it hurt her reputation to say that Don Rod- 
 rigo serves her? I serve Donna Virginia, you serve my wife, and 
 what harm is there in it? 
 

 COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 247 
 
 ALONSO 
 
 That's all very well, but they were saying that Don Rodrigo 
 gives her means to live upon, pays her rent, her maid's wages, and 
 all that sort of thing. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 My dear fellow, and who would pay them if not he? I like 
 your idea. Her husband's property has been confiscated, she 
 hasn't a penny of dowry. To speak plainly, one can't live on air. 
 
 ALONSO 
 
 But she's sold what she had, she's selling still, and she works. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 Listen! How well he's informed. 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 Donna Claudia, what do you say to paying Donna Eleonora a 
 visit this evening? 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 A visit to Donna Eleonora? That pauper isn't worthy a visit 
 from me. 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 But we can see how the fine lady behaves in her reduced cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 You'll find her as such ladies usually are, poor but proud. 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 Who knows but that we'll discover something more! I have 
 an idea that she likes to chat. Don Alonso ought to know. 
 
 ALONSO 
 
 So far as I know, Donna Eleonora is a very retiring woman. 
 With the exception of Don Rodrigo, no one goes to her house. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Come, I say, what'll you bet that I don't go there and become 
 her cicisbeo? 
 
 ALONSO 
 I'll bet a hundred louis that you can't do it. 
 
248 GOLDONI 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Make it a gold watch. 
 
 ALONSO 
 
 Agreed. I'll not back down. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Donna Virginia, are you willing that I should make the at- 
 tempt and win the watch ? 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 You are at perfect liberty to please yourself. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 I'm pretty certain that, while I'm no longer serving you, there'll 
 be plenty who'll know how to take my place beside you. 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 Don't worry. I'll take care of that. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 And you, my dear wife, what say you? 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 You have conquered without doubt, say I. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Does it seem to you that I am a captivating cavalier, capable of 
 capturing a woman's heart at the first attack? 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 Women of her sort are easily conquered. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 The w r ager has been laid, therefore let's say no more about it;, 
 let's take a walk in the garden. 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 Agreed; let's go. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Pray give me your hand. 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 Here am I. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 249 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Poor Donna Virginia, how will you manage to do without me 
 for a few days? 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 Believe me, I shall not suffer. 
 
 FLAMINIO 
 
 Cruel one, you are making sport of one who is dying for you. 
 
 VIRGINIA 
 
 To-morrow you will be dying for Donna Eleonora, and some 
 day you'll come back to die for me. (Exeunt.) 
 
 ALONSO 
 
 Command me, so that I may have the honour of serving you. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 My deepest obligations. Go, serve Donna Eleonora. 
 
 ALONSO 
 Impossible, she'll be plighted to your husband. 
 
 CLAUDIA 
 
 Go ; there'll be room for you too. A coquette refuses no one. 11 
 
 "To criticize the conduct of others without reflect- 
 ing upon their own is the common vice of most 
 women," exclaims Don Alonso, as Donna Claudia 
 leaves him : then reflecting upon the state of himself 
 and his fellow cicisbei, he continues: "Utter folly 
 is our lot! To dance attendance for the fun of it 
 and be subject to the ridiculous whims of a woman, 
 all for the great honour of being enrolled among the 
 cavalieri serventi." But the real thesis of the play 
 is expressed by Don Rodrigo, its virtuous hero, when 
 he asks why the stealing of a man's wife should be 
 permitted if the stealing of his purse or his watch 
 is forbidden. 
 
 "Act I, Scene 10. 
 
25 o GOLDONI 
 
 Unlike the too-good-to-be-true heroine of The Ca- 
 valier and the Lady, Donna Eularia, the heroine of 
 The Discreet Wife (La Dama prudente), is both 
 admirable and human, while Don Roberto, the hero 
 if a jealous husband may be so designated is so 
 naturalistically drawn that as a characterization he 
 bears comparison with modern psychological anal- 
 yses. "In Italy," says Goldoni, in speaking of this 
 play, "there are husbands who willingly tolerate the 
 gallants of their wives, and who even become their 
 confidants, but there are others extremely jealous, who 
 bear the strongest ill-will to those singular beings 
 (the cicisbei) who are the second masters in an ill- 
 regulated family." This state of affairs obtains not 
 alone in Italy, but wherever the menage a trols is a 
 social institution husbands like the husband of Gol- 
 doni's discreet wife, who conform to the customs of 
 a "wicked, contemptuous world" so as not to appear 
 ridiculous, being of cosmopolitan growth. In this 
 husband's own words, they "suffer, fret, and are 
 seared with jealousy while studying how not to show 
 
 it." 
 
 Though Don Roberto's cheek grows sallow from 
 the venom that is preying on his vitals, he is such a 
 slave to custom that he permits his wife to be attended 
 by cicisbei, preferring several to one in the hope that 
 they will neutralize one another. She is willing, nay, 
 anxious, to lead a domestic life, yet he forces her into 
 society lest the world, thinking him jealous, should 
 laugh. Whenever a cicisbeo is in the house, he bobs 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 251 
 
 in and out upon one pretext or another, and when she 
 goes out to visit a friend, though he will not accom- 
 pany her because of the fear of being laughed at, he 
 forces two cavaliers instead of one into the carriage 
 and runs on ahead to the house to which she is going, 
 a struggle between jealousy and conventionality 
 ever raging in this poor man's heart. 
 
 Donna Eularia, the discreet wife of this victim of 
 "the ugliest fiend of hell" is by far the most womanly 
 of Goldoni's heroines and a model wife for all time. 
 To her husband, she says, "I have no pleasure save 
 being with you: all the rest of the world means noth- 
 ing to me" ; to the cicisbei who attend her, she is in- 
 different, and when they become importunate, she 
 snubs them deftly by assuring them that, if their as- 
 pirations ever pass the bounds of propriety, she will 
 find the means of "getting rid of them without dis- 
 turbing her husband's peace of mind." "I may lack 
 the talent and wit to shine in society," she adds, "but 
 I do not lack the prudence needed to defend my fam- 
 ily's reputation, and any one who judges me rashly 
 will rue it." This is no idle boast. Donna Eularia 
 does possess the prudence needed to defend her fam- 
 ily's reputation. Never losing her self-control dur- 
 ing Don Roberto's fits of jealousy, she manages her 
 cicisbei with an equal tact, forcing them to become 
 friends after they have quarrelled over her and fought 
 a duel, while keeping, by her cleverness, all knowl- 
 edge of this duel from the public and her husband 
 a triumph of tact which is rewarded by her husband's 
 
252 GOLDONI 
 
 willing acquiescence in her desire to go to a remote 
 place in the country where cicisbei are unknown. 
 Thus a loving couple, whom worldliness has separ- 
 ated, retires to a desert such as Alceste, the misan- 
 thrope, longed for in vain, Eularia being no heartless 
 coquette like Celimene, but a woman "who, in the 
 midst of so much deceit and domestic indifference, is 
 
 sincere." 12 
 
 Goldoni is thoroughly aware, however, that, in a 
 land where cicisbeism obtains, discreet wives, and 
 husbands whose love is legitimate even though jeal- 
 ous, are the exception rather than the rule, his other 
 fashionable wives and husbands being moulded of a 
 different clay. For instance, in The Flatterer 
 (U Adulator e)^ a comedy with melodramatic tenden- 
 cies, inspired by Le Flatteur of Jean-Bap tiste Rous- 
 seau, the protagonist a parasitic rake and hypocrite 
 flatters the husbands in order that he may corrupt 
 the wives ; while one of the latter is so lost to decency 
 that she borrows money of her cicisbeo without a 
 qualm. Equally shorn of moral sense is Don Flo- 
 rindo, in The Punctilious Ladies (Le Femmine pun- 
 tigliose], a complaisant husband who lets his wife 
 spend his money on her cicisbeo because he is born, 
 as Maria Merlato remarks, to be "led by the nose" ; 13 
 while a miserly, eavesdropping husband in The Jeal- 
 ous Miser (II Geloso avaro), is so despicable that he 
 appropriates the presents given his wife, accusing her, 
 meantime, of having given illegal cause for their re- 
 
 12 Maria Merlato: Mariti e cavalier serventi nelle commedie del 
 Goldoni. 13 Op. cit. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 253 
 
 ceipt. Don Properzio, too, the husband of Donna 
 Giulia, the title character of The Contriving Woman 
 (LaDonna dlmanegglo], is another miserly lord and 
 master, who scrimps and frets till his wife, a meddler 
 in the love affairs of her friends, contrives to get the 
 better of him by acquiescing in his parsimony. Ro- 
 saura, the rich bourgeois girl, married to a nobleman, 
 whose marital unhappiness forms the subject of The 
 Sensible Wife (La Moglle saggla), is a commend- 
 able spouse, however; Pantalone, her father, being 
 the prototype of good Monsieur Poirier; her neglect- 
 ful husband, a Venetian Due de Presles. 
 
 It is in The House Party (La Villeggiatura) , how- 
 ever, that Goldoni paints his most lifelike picture of 
 fashionable husbands and wives a picture so vivid 
 that the colours have not been dimmed by time. In- 
 deed, this house party might have taken place on the 
 moors of Scotland during the last grouse season, in 
 England when coverts were last drawn, or in France 
 when last the cor de chasse was sounding in the forest, 
 ay, even at Roslyn, or Aiken, so thoroughly cosmo- 
 politan are the characters, so modern the situations 
 of this play. 
 
 "Villeggiatura" means literally "country life" or 
 "the season spent in the country"; yet "house party" 
 better describes the gathering under the roof of 
 Donna Lavinia that forms the background of a play 
 of domestic infelicity Donnay or Pinero might well 
 have penned yesterday instead of Goldoni a century 
 and a half ago. Being wedded to a bluff country 
 
 
254 GOLDONI 
 
 squire, who spends his days in partridge shooting and 
 his nights in snoring, Donna Lavinia has a cicisbeo, 
 Don Paoluccio, to whom she has ever been faithful, 
 though her friends change theirs, as they do their style 
 of dress, every spring and autumn. She would not 
 have this one, did her husband not live entirely for his 
 gross pleasures; for, when the comedy opens, fearful 
 lest her suffering will lead her from the playful hands 
 of cicisbeism into the destructive arms of passion, she 
 warns her husband of Paoluccio's return from a tour 
 of Europe, made with her consent, but the husband's 
 only admonition, regarding a wolf about to enter his 
 fold, is that he be given any bed in the house except 
 his. Donna Lavinia appeals to this soulless creature 
 to live with her as other men live with their wives, yet 
 he scorns her bed and board because she will not con- 
 sent to retire at sunset and arise to chanticleer's call ; 
 in a word, because she will not give up society and be- 
 come a domestic drudge. 
 
 "I would n't give up shooting for all the money in 
 the world," he says. "Not even for your wife's sake?" 
 she answers scornfully. "For your husband's sake 
 you won't give up society," he retorts ; whereupon she 
 replies, "Well, have your shooting, only let me enjoy 
 society." "Will you go to bed when I do?" he asks; 
 "will you go to bed at ten o'clock?" "Yes, if you will 
 stay in bed until ten o'clock." "The devil!" he pro- 
 tests; "I couldn't stay in bed twelve hours." Nor 
 will he stop bringing peasant girls into the house 
 while his wife and her friends are there. "The 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 255 
 
 remedy is easy to find, my dear," he says to her pro- 
 test; "you don't wish them here; I do; therefore go 
 away yourself." This brutal insult is the parting 
 of the ways. "Never will you see me here another 
 year," she answers in righteous indignation. When, 
 happy in the thought that henceforth he will be let 
 alone, he leaves her, she, convinced at last of her 
 right to lead her life in her own way, exclaims, 
 "Amuse yourself with your low-born wenches! 
 You deserve to be loved just as much as I am 
 loved!" Indifferent alike to appeal and threat, 
 this conscienceless husband seeks the society of 
 two peasant girls. By giving his presents and their 
 affections to a pair of younger swains, they un- 
 wittingly avenge a wife who, meanwhile, is being 
 taught her own lesson in love's bad faith. 
 
 Don Paoluccio, the cicisbeo to whom she has long 
 been loyal, returns like many an American young 
 man who has been abroad with his- head completely 
 turned; a Franco-maniac, liberated, as he believes, 
 from prejudices, yet, in reality, so enthralled by cos- 
 mopolitan vices that he refuses to believe his lady-love 
 has been constant during the two whole years he has 
 been away. "While I was abroad," says he, "I was 
 never constant more than fifteen days at a time." 
 When condescendingly he seeks to return to the good 
 graces of Donna Lavinia, she answers bitterly, "For 
 fifteen days I shall make no other engagement" too 
 subtle an irony for so heartless a rake! 
 
 Poor Donna Lavinia! Loyal by nature, she is 
 
256 GOLDONI 
 
 taught, first by a brutal husband, then by a shallow 
 cicisbeo, that loyalty is a drug on love's market. Her 
 friend Donna Florida's plan of having different cicis- 
 bei for town and country, whom for the life of her she 
 cannot recall when they are out of her sight, is a plan 
 far likelier than loyalty to succeed in that decadent 
 society; for even while Donna Lavinia's loving heart 
 is being seared to hardness by Paoluccio's neglect, this 
 nice young man, to whom the words "bounder" and 
 "cad" would be applicable were he of our day, pro- 
 poses to flightly Donna Florida a "liaison a la paris- 
 ienne," which, being secret, shall leave them both free 
 to flirt in public. In order to demonstrate the price 
 he attaches to his liberty, as well as the catholicity of 
 his taste, he proceeds forthwith to make love to his 
 host's peasant girls, in which brazen act he is caught 
 by Donna Lavinia. Her conjugal and sentimental 
 ideals being shattered almost simultaneously, she is 
 too dazed to attempt the laborious task of picking up 
 the pieces and gluing them into some vague sem- 
 blance of the gods she has worshipped. In the words 
 of M. Dejob, a sympathetic French writer, 14 "She is 
 primitively virtuous, yet being the slave of fashion 
 and neglected by her husband, she has not the courage 
 to imprison herself within the walls of her duty." 
 Don Mauro, fickle Donna Florida's discarded cicis- 
 beo, is caught by her on the rebound, these two dis- 
 consolate hearts consoling each other in this play just 
 as discarded hearts so often do in real life; M. Dejob 
 
 14 Les Femmes dans la comedie jranqaise et italienne au XVllle siecle. 
 

 COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 257 
 
 remarking cynically that "in real life Donna Lavinia 
 would not take a new cicisbeo but a new lover." 
 
 It is love, after all, that distinguishes her from the 
 other women in Goldoni's comedies who are served 
 by cicisbei ; for, as Maria Merlato points out, "Donna 
 Lavinia is the only Goldonian woman who does not 
 treat her cavalier servente as a coxcomb, or a buffoon, 
 but as a gentleman whom she both esteems and re- 
 spects." 15 More than that, she is the most real of our 
 dramatist's women, her character being so psycho- 
 logically true that, in the comedy that tells her story, 
 he may be said to have anticipated the modern prob- 
 lem play by nearly a century and a half. If Donna 
 Eularia, the discreet wife, is a lovable woman, Donna 
 Lavinia, this frail wife, is simply a loving woman 
 whose heart is stifled by indifference a woman of 
 Vanity Fair. 
 
 Yet Goldoni's purpose in writing The House Party 
 was not to vivisect a feminine heart, but rather to ad- 
 monish society for its luxury and prodigality. He 
 had passed the early summer of 1754 at Modena and 
 Milan, and on his way back to Venice, he found the 
 subject for his play in a manner best stated in his own 
 words : 
 
 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 revenue, and their de- 
 scendants go there merely to spend theirs. In the country they 
 
 15 Op cit. 
 
258 GOLDONI 
 
 keep open table, play high, give balls and theatrical entertain- 
 ments, and the Italian cicisbeo system is there indulged without 
 disguise or constraint, and gains more ground than elsewhere. 
 
 He does not overdraw the picture. If the winter 
 of Venetian society was a carnival, its summer was 
 a fete a la Watteau; for, when it was not gambling 
 or dancing minuets, the powdered and patched so- 
 ciety of that day, to whom the villeggiatura was a 
 social necessity, tripped merrily through cool, shady 
 boskets to the banks of the Brenta, where Love's barge 
 lay moored and fluttering Love himself was whis- 
 pering that, on the magic isle of Cythera, stood his 
 mother's fair temple. Yes, Watteau knew that life, 
 and so did Goldoni, but while the one painted his 
 fetes galantes so entrancingly that we sigh for a visit 
 to the isle where Venus dwells, the other shows us 
 that the open table and high play of those villas, 
 where "all the pomp of luxury was displayed," and 
 the love fetes on the Brenta's bank, were not Les 
 Agrements de I'ete or Les Charmes de la vie, as 
 Watteau calls them, but the road to moral decay and 
 financial ruin. 
 
 After telling of the circumstances that led to writ- 
 ing The House Party, Goldoni adds: "I gave a 
 view of all these circumstances some time afterward 
 in three related plays." These three plays form a 
 trilogy the principal characters appearing in them 
 all and are called, respectively, The Rage for Coun- 
 try Life (Le Smanie della villeggiatura] , Hazards of 
 Country Life (Le Avventure della villeggiatura)^ 
 
MY LADY'S TOILET 
 
 Museo Correr 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 259 
 
 and The Return from the Country (II Rltorno dalla 
 villeggiatura). 19 Though the atmosphere of the 
 comedies in this series is deliciously clear, they are 
 less happy both in story and characterization than 
 The House Party. We see a fashionable coterie pre- 
 paring to leave for the country; we see them at their 
 villas playing faro the auction bridge of that day; 
 we see them eating, drinking, gossiping, and making 
 love ; and we finally see them return to the city after 
 having squandered in a month of lavish entertainment 
 the revenues of an entire year: yet the dramatic ma- 
 terial of the trilogy is barely sufficient for a single 
 comedy. Indeed, the agonized efforts of a social 
 climber to force a ladies' tailor to the finishing of 
 a garment called a manage le dernier crl de Paris 
 in time to vie in stylishness with a rival whom she 
 hates and envies; the gambling, gossiping, eating, 
 drinking, and love-making during a villeggiatura 
 near Leghorn a more discreet place for satirizing 
 Venetian society than the banks of the Brenta; the 
 tittle-tattle of the servants about their masters; the 
 rascality of a pair of waiters at a country inn ; and the 
 antics of a gluttonous snob and sponge named Ferdi- 
 nando are all more diverting than the attenuated 
 story that carries an uninteresting quartette of lovers 
 through three plays that might well be condensed 
 into three acts. 
 
 16 7 Malcontenti, a play In which the 'villeggiatura craze of Venetian 
 society is also pictured, may be called a prologue to this trilogy. In it 
 similar characters appear and a similar story is told. A play within a 
 play in this comedy has been held with little verisimilitude to have 
 been inspired by Shakespeare. 
 
2 6o GOLDONI 
 
 Yet Goldoni admits that the telling of this double 
 love-story was not the object he had in view. "I 
 wished to present in the first play the inordinate 
 passion of Italians for country life, and, by the second, 
 to demonstrate the dangers induced by the liberty that 
 obtains in such a society." The particular object he 
 had in view in writing the last, and by far the least 
 interesting, comedy of the villeggiatura series is not 
 so apparent, since, in the epilogue spoken by a char- 
 acter at the close of Hazards of Country Life, he ad- 
 mits frankly that "the play is finished, though, if 
 something still remains to be unravelled, it will form 
 the subject of a third play on the same topic." 
 
 Yet commonplace though the story of the villeg- 
 glatura series is, its plays shed a brilliant sidelight 
 upon the society of Venice when on its annual terra 
 firma outing. Lawn parties, water parties, and rid- 
 ing parties, refreshments served in forest glades on 
 lace-trimmed napery, comedies played in gorgeous 
 drawing-rooms, moonlit masquerades upon the river, 
 faro till the dawn a villeggiatura was, as M. Mon- 
 nier says, "a maskless carnival where Folly came with 
 face uncovered" 17 the same Folly who reigns wher- 
 ever the idle born squander their patrimony in social 
 rivalry. Reading Goldoni's dialogue, it is not dif- 
 ficult to fancy oneself at Newport. "Giacinta is 
 a young girl," says her rival Vittoria, "yet she dresses 
 precisely like a married woman. Indeed, to-day, you 
 can't tell the girls from the married women." When 
 
 17 Op. cit. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 261 
 
 Ferdinando, the snob, says he has just refused an invi- 
 tation to an old-fashioned house where they sup 
 at nine and go to bed at ten, Vittoria answers : "I 
 wouldn't lead such a life for all the money on earth. 
 If I go to bed before dawn, it is quite impossible for 
 me to sleep" ; whereupon her brother adds : "At our 
 house we play cards or dance till dawn, but we never 
 dine until eight; indeed, after our little game of faro, 
 we usually see the sun rise." "That is living," sighs 
 Vittoria; living the way society lives wherever 
 Satan finds employment for its idle hands. 
 
 In The Rattlepate (La Donna di testa debole), 
 Goldoni presents a euphuistic widow of noble birth, 
 surrounded by a troop of pedantic flatterers, and so 
 unsparing is its satire of both culture-seeking women 
 and the literary leeches who thrive upon their foibles, 
 that, with a certain justice, it may be termed the 
 Italian Precleuses ridicules. Although this comedy 
 failed dismally at the time of its production, its irony 
 is nevertheless so keen that Professor De Guber- 
 natis 18 places it on a plane of equality with Pail- 
 leron's notable satire of false romanticism. 19 Yet 
 ruthless as is its portrayal of the sort of woman who 
 still pursues culture breathlessly, it is too deficient in 
 truly dramatic situations to fulfil this Italian critic's 
 hope that "it may merit in our day the honours of 
 the stage, and win applause." 
 
 The Impostor (II Raggiratore] , tells the story of a 
 bogus nobleman's attempt to marry the heiress to the 
 
 18 Op cit. 19 Le Monde ou Von s'ennuie. 
 
262 GOLDONI 
 
 mortgaged estates of Don Eraclio, an impoverished 
 patrician who, asserting descent from the Emperor 
 Heraclius and discovering in an historical dictionary 
 that there are thirty-seven towns called Eraclio, 
 proudly styles himself "Eraclio, lord of thirty-seven 
 towns," even though his wife's jewels are in pawn 
 and his creditors are taking legal measures to possess 
 themselves of his palace. The spurious count, who 
 gives the play its title, schemes with a venal lawyer 
 to antedate a marriage contract between Don Era- 
 clio's daughter and himself, thereby feathering his 
 own nest as well as outwitting his future father-in- 
 law's creditors. Before this is compassed, however, 
 the impostor's peasant father arrives to unmask him, 
 and poor Don Eraclio, bereft of his palace, is forced 
 to seek an asylum in a madhouse, "a place worthy," as 
 he says, "of a poor, presumptuous man, who, seeking 
 to glorify himself with the vanity of the past, is ruined 
 in the present, only to be worse off in the future." 
 Don Eraclio's story is a lesson in vainglory, as true 
 to the life of our day as to that in which it was penned. 
 In The Feudatory (II Feudatario), the seigneurial 
 phase of country life is shown ; a young marquis, on 
 taking possession of his inherited estates, attempting 
 to possess himself of the wives and daughters of his re- 
 tainers as well. He has to deal, however, with pretty 
 Chitta's husband, Cecco, a sturdy deputy, who, hav- 
 ing shot four men, itches to level his carbine at a 
 fifth, a desire from which he is dissuaded by the pro- 
 posal of his comrades that their landlord's castle be 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 263 
 
 burned and he treated like the lambs of their flocks. 
 Caught in shepherd's guise making love to Chitta, 
 the marquis is beaten soundly by Cecco, who threatens 
 to shoot him should he repeat the offence, whereupon, 
 marrying, at his tactful mother's suggestion, a ro- 
 mantic orphan of the Mile, de Seigliere type, with 
 a claim to his estates, he ends the danger to his life 
 and a tiresome lawsuit as well. The reader feels, 
 however, that, as soon as the honeymoon has waned, 
 he will go forth again to prey upon his retainers' 
 wives unless awed by Cecco's trusty carbine. 
 
 As in the case of the villeggiatura trilogy, the bril- 
 liance of The Feudatory lies mainly in the sidelight 
 shed upon society, one scene in particular, where the 
 mother of the young marquis receives a delegation 
 of the wives of her son's retainers being exceedingly 
 human, and, according to Goldoni, taken from life. 
 These good women, flustered in the presence of a 
 grand lady, strive to show that they are accustomed to 
 society, till, assuming equality, they are told abruptly 
 that they belong to "the lower class" (basso ran go] 
 a term they have never before heard. One of their 
 number suggests that it means they are of the lower 
 country, not the mountains, an explanation that makes 
 them acknowledge with pride that they are of the 
 lower class; whereupon, to make conversation, one 
 of them asks the marchioness "how much flax is worth 
 in Naples," only to be hushed by a friend's query 
 as to why she should expect Her Excellency to know 
 about such things. "A marchioness would n't spin 
 
264 GOLDONI 
 
 like the people of our sort," the friend whispers ; "she 
 would make lace and embroider." Chocolate being 
 brought, these worthy souls do not know what the 
 "black stuff" is. Making wry faces, they smell it, 
 and when it scalds their throats, spit it out without 
 more ado; but their lack of breeding becomes most 
 apparent when the heroine of the play, whom they 
 think their inferior, is treated with more consideration 
 than themselves, for then they flounce out of the 
 marchioness's drawing-room, their common noses in 
 the air. 
 
 The rich young feudatories tarried in the country 
 no longer than the cicisbei and the dolls of fashion. 
 The hot spell passed, the vlllegglatura ended, they 
 went to town for the opening of the autumn season, 
 the theatres, and the Ridotto. Night amusement for 
 the Venetian there was a-plenty, but his days he must 
 pass in his cicisbea's boudoir, at a gaming-house, or 
 at a tavern. There being no clubs in Venice, the 
 tavern became a sort of public club where congenial 
 spirits gathered to sip their chocolate and to gossip, 
 just as the Parisians gather now at the cafes on the 
 boulevard at the hour of the aperitif. 
 
 In The Mistress of the Inn (La Locandlera) , Gol- 
 doni paints a delightful picture of such a tavern club. 
 Mirandolina, the landlady, is both comely and 
 sprightly; the customers flirt with her; and having 
 an eye for business, she keeps them on tenter-hooks, 
 for, while they are kept guessing in the matter of 
 her preference, they are buying chocolate or wine 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 265 
 
 to her profit; a venal coquetry that served to fire the 
 hearts of a pair of old codgers the one a blue- 
 blooded marquis, the other a parvenu count with 
 a desire to marry her, if only for the comfort of being 
 permanently well cared for. The pot-boy, longing 
 both for his mistress and her profitable business, re- 
 sents these attentions. Meanwhile, the Cavaliere di 
 Ripafratta, a confirmed bachelor, with an aversion 
 to the sex, alighting at this delectable inn, the hostess 
 sets her trim cap for him, just for the sport of teach- 
 ing a woman-hater to respect her sex; while he, in- 
 experienced in coquetry, falls an easy prey to one 
 so skilled and offers her his heart and hand. 
 
 From this embarrassment of riches, the comely 
 hostess must make a choice. To be the Marchesa 
 di Forlipopoli, with a title as old as the hills and a 
 fortune as bare as they, or the Contessa d'Albafiorita, 
 with a brazen title bought only yesterday? How 
 could a sensible woman sacrifice a profitable business 
 for either horn of this noble dilemma? For the 
 Cavaliere di Ripafratta, the woman hater, to whom 
 she has taught the futility of defying her sex, she 
 has a hankering, yet, being endowed with common 
 sense, she realizes that, though lovely in a tap-room, 
 she might be an eyesore in a drawing-room; hence, 
 rather than to mate above her station, she gives her 
 hand to her faithful pot-boy, and these profitable 
 words to her disconsolate admirers : 
 
 In changing my estate, I intend to change my habits; there- 
 fore, gentlemen, may you profit by what you have seen, both to the 
 
266 GOLDONI 
 
 advantage and the well-being of your hearts; and if ever you 
 should find yourselves in the position of wondering whether to 
 yield or fall, think of the cunning you have been taught, and re- 
 member the Mistress of the Inn. 
 
 This is the story of a comedy in which Goldoni 
 demonstrates his mastery both in stage-craft and char- 
 acterization perhaps more fully than in any single 
 play. In this pretty ado about nothing, Mirando- 
 lina, an eighteenth century Beatrice, brings a surly 
 Benedick to her feet but condemns him to perpetual 
 bachelorhood for having presumed to doubt the al- 
 lurement of her sex. Bold, coy, tender, or indifferent, 
 as suits her, this captivating mistress of an inn where 
 old codgers congregate to woo her, is a mistress, 
 too, of love's ingenuity, the essence of coquetry, 
 the secret of her charm, being best told in her own 
 words : 
 
 I like the roast, but not the smoke. If I had married all who 
 have asked me, I should have far too many husbands, for all who 
 arrive at my inn fall in love with me and make love to me and 
 most of them propose to me. . . . But the men who run after me 
 soon bore me. Nobility will not do for me ; I esteem wealth and, 
 again, I don't esteem it. My joy consists in being courted, ad- 
 mired, and adored. Indeed, that is my weakness, as it is the 
 weakness of most women. Having no need of any one, I don't 
 worry about marrying; I lead a decent life and I enjoy my lib- 
 erty. I chat with all, yet fall in love with none; for I mean to 
 laugh at all these caricatures of passionate lovers and, moreover, I 
 mean to use all my arts in capturing, felling, and breaking the 
 rude, hard hearts that are opposed to us, the best thing Dame 
 Nature ever brought into the world." 
 
 The two old codgers who woo her, represent the 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 267 
 
 peerage and the "beerage" of that day. "Between 
 you and me there is a difference," says the Marchese 
 di Forlipopoli blue of blood, empty of purse to 
 the Conte d'Albafiorita, his parvenu rival for Miran- 
 dolina's hand. "At this inn, my money is as good as 
 yours," is the sneering retort. "I am the Marchese 
 di Forlipopoli," proudly answers the patrician, whose 
 family tree is the only tree left upon a once fertile 
 estate. "And I am the Conte d'Albafiorita," replies 
 his wealthy rival, in an upstart's attempt to assume 
 an equality he knows in his inmost heart does not 
 exist. "A count!" sneers the marquis, "a purchased 
 countship!" "I bought the countship when you sold 
 the marquisate," is the parvenu's retort; whereupon 
 the patrician, drawing himself up to his full height, 
 exclaims frigidly, "Enough! I am who I am, and 
 you owe me respect." After the parvenu has tipped 
 him, and the patrician given him naught but in- 
 solence, the pot-boy sums up the truth by saying that 
 "funds, not titles, win respect away from home," a 
 perennial, though homely epigram. 
 
 There are Marquises of Forlipopoli and Counts 
 of Albafiorita still ; there is many a crusty bachelor, 
 too, like the Cavaliere di Ripafratta, who, believing 
 love for a woman "an unbearable weakness in a man," 
 has never been in love and vows he never will be; 
 until some pretty Mirandolina flouts that "may her 
 nose drop off, if she doesn't make him fall in love 
 with her before the morrow." To quote her once 
 more: "Who can resist a woman when a man gives 
 
268 GOLDONI 
 
 her the time to bring her arts to bear? He who 
 flees, need not fear to be conquered; but he who stays, 
 listens, and enjoys her society, must fall sooner or later 
 in spite of himself." Mirandolina not being a fine 
 lady, the comedy concerning her is perhaps not a 
 society comedy in the narrower sense of the term. 
 Yet she is not a bourgeoise either her mind being 
 broad nor an ignorant, superstitious woman of the 
 people. A winsome cosmopolite, she is a self-made 
 woman, whose conflict with life has taught her to 
 know mankind as well as what is best for herself. 
 Being wooed by titled lovers, her introduction into 
 a chapter devoted to plays of the world of fashion 
 may perhaps be pardonable. 20 
 
 Goldoni, a bourgeois himself, viewed society from 
 the antechamber hence he has been said to have 
 lacked an intimate knowledge of the subject, Baretti, 
 a contemporary, even accusing him of making prin- 
 cesses talk like ladies' maids. Yet so true to the life 
 of our time are many of his pictures of society that, 
 if Baretti's charge be just, it may be said that the 
 princesses of to-day talk like the ladies' maids of 
 
 20 Goldoni was reproved by Grimm (Correspondance} for not causing 
 Mirandolina to fall in love with the woman-hater, an obviously happy 
 ending any playwright might have conceived. Of the widespread popu- 
 larity of La Locandiera, the great number of translations and adapta- 
 tions is irrefutable evidence. In his article in the Rivista d'ltalia for 
 November, 1907, E. Maddalena mentions thirty-eight adaptations and 
 translations of this comedy, five of which are anonymous. Six are in 
 French, five in English, nine in German, seven in Spanish, two each in 
 Russian, Portuguese, and Hungarian, and one each in Danish, Greek, 
 Polish, Roumanian, Czech, and Croatian. Among the more prominent 
 actresses who have impersonated Mirandolina are Mile. Candeille, Car- 
 lotta Hagn, Teresa Peche, Irene Vanbrugh, and Eleonora Duse. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 269 
 
 Goldoni's time. Only yesterday, however, a French- 
 man said of this genial Venetian's pictures of society: 
 
 His comedies give but a mediocre idea of brilliant Venice. Save 
 for a few obscure folk the characters are all virtuous and possessed 
 of but slight gaiety. Among them there are no debauchees, 
 Cyprians, or wary senators, only prudent fathers, good mothers, 
 and submissive sons; no adventurers or freebooters, only mer- 
 chants whose souls are honour. 21 
 
 Goldoni did paint society both with truth and spirit, 
 even though he did not paint it obscenely enough for 
 this Frenchman's taste. Moreover he had ideals, not 
 only of society, but of all that constitutes life ; witness 
 this passage from The Post Inn (L'Osteria delta 
 posta), a one-act comedy of intrigue that, in its treat- 
 ment recalls the stilted French comedy of that day, 
 though the broad philosophy here quoted is as un- 
 like Marlvaudage as the clear tones of a clarion are 
 unlike the delicate notes of a flute : 
 
 The study of literature is a diversion for the mind which does 
 not rob the heart of its humanity. Love is a natural passion felt 
 in the midst of the most serious or the most trivial occupations. 
 He who knows only how to love must of necessity grow weary 
 occasionally of his own joy, and what is still worse, weary of the 
 object of his affection. Study, on the contrary, divides the heart 
 equably; it teaches us to love with more delicacy, it makes us 
 realize more thoroughly the merits of the loved one, and the fires 
 of love are more vivid and brilliant after the heart has breathed 
 and the mind has been amused. Let us now consider society 
 unlucky he who spurns it. Society makes a man civil and 
 amiable and strips him of the savage rudeness that is his bane. A 
 
 21 Charles Verrier: Goldoni et la reforms du theatre ttalien. La 
 grande Revue, Feb. 25, 1908. 
 
270 GOLDONI 
 
 misanthrope, a recluse, is a burden to his family, a torment to his 
 wife. A man who does not like society himself will naturally 
 not be disposed to permit his wife to enjoy it. Howsoever great 
 may be their mutual love, it is hardly possible that they may be 
 together from morning till night without a thousand opportunities 
 for losing their tempers; for love is in great danger of soon de- 
 generating into boredom, distaste, and even aversion. 
 
 Looking at life through the smoked glasses of a 
 realism that were better called biasism, many a 
 modern dramatist sees only life's shadows. Forget- 
 ting that in the country and by the sea mankind 
 breathes good, fresh air, he poisons his lungs with 
 the noxious air of crowded streets ; holding his nose 
 to the ordures of life as he examines them, he for- 
 gets that life's flowers have perfumes that are sweet. 
 Believing that the theatre was the "best, the most use- 
 ful, and the most necessary of relaxations," Goldoni, 
 the kindly naturalist, presented life, not as a cadaver 
 to be dissected at a clinic of the morbid, but as a 
 humorous and truthful picture painted vividly in 
 the sunlight for the delight of his fellow-man, not 
 his undoing. He is an optimist with a helpful smile 
 ever upon his gentle lip. Nowhere is this more 
 apparent than in his pictures of the corrupt society 
 of Venice, though it is unjust to say that his char- 
 acters are all virtuous. There are "debauchees, Cyp- 
 rians, wary senators, adventurers, and freebooters' 7 
 a-plenty in his plays; yet, side by side with them, 
 to point the moral that the world is not all corrupt, 
 never has been, and never will be, are "prudent 
 fathers, good mothers, submissive sons," and faithful 
 
COMEDIES OF THE ARISTOCRACY 271 
 
 wives. In the breadth of Goldoni's sane vision and 
 in the cleanliness of his mind, quite as much as in 
 his unfailing humour and gaiety, lie the sources of 
 his glory. 
 
I 
 
 IX 
 
 COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 
 
 N fully a score of Goldoni's comedies, the 
 sturdy life of mercantile Venice is presented; in 
 as many more, the upper bourgeoisie is shown 
 knocking at the doors of patrician society. Like 
 every middle class, that of Venice formed the back- 
 bone of a people, Goldoni's Pantalone being its rep- 
 resentative on the stage. Whenever he appears, the 
 play by his presence is given a middle-class flavour, 
 for he is always the Venetian merchant speaking in 
 the soft Venetian speech. 
 
 "Pantalone de' Bisognosi, mercante veneziano" is 
 the way his name appears among the dramatis per- 
 sona of some thirty of the comedies ; in several others, 
 a part similar to his is allotted to Anselmo or Pan- 
 crazio, who, like him, are Venetian merchants. Gol- 
 doni's Pantalone, however, differs widely from the 
 buffoonish part which bears his name in the Impro- 
 vised Comedy. Instead of being duped by the other 
 characters, he holds the threads of the play between 
 his ink-stained fingers while voicing the precepts of 
 the author. He it is who typifies the conservatism 
 and moral worth of Venice, proud mistress of the 
 Adriatic, in the days before luxury had sapped her 
 
 272 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 273 
 
 strength. He is fond of order, peace, and good living. 
 Although, as he says in The Whimsical Old Man 
 (II Vecchio bizzarro) , he eats "good food," it must 
 be "pure food that he knows will not make him ill." 
 A citizen of free Venice, Pantalone was no vassal 
 of an overlord. On the contrary, he was a merchant 
 of Venice, and his forbears had been merchants, too, 
 proud of their calling. He did not wear a sword, yet 
 he had a sharp tongue, ever ready to defend his rights. 
 As he says in The Swindler (U Impostor e), "Al- 
 though I am old, I am not afraid ; and if I don't know 
 how to use a sword, I have enough of a tongue to 
 give my reasons in the face of no matter whom." In 
 The Cavalier and the Lady, when he is called "a 
 vile merchant and a plebeian" by patrician Don 
 Flaminio, he thus proudly defends his estate: 
 
 If you knew what it means to be a merchant, you would not 
 speak like that. . . . Commerce is useful to the world, necessary 
 to the life of nations, and he who, like myself, practises it honour- 
 ably should not be called plebeian. More plebeian is he who, hav- 
 ing inherited a title and a little land, spends his days in idleness, 
 believing himself privileged to trample every one under foot and 
 live a life of domination. The vile man is he who does not recog- 
 nize his duty, who foolishly and unjustly vaunts his arrogance, 
 making others realize that, though noble by the accident of birth, 
 he deserves to have been born plebeian. 1 
 
 Brave sentiments for such an age! As M. Mon- 
 nier points out, Pantalone "represented in Venice a 
 new condition of things, a new condition of the heart 
 
 1 The character who speaks these democratic sentiments, though called 
 Anselmo, has the attributes of Pantalone. 
 
274 GOLDONI 
 
 the third estate." 2 Yet, outspoken as he is at 
 times, Goldoni's Pantalone is, after all, a bourgeois, 
 conservative to the core a respecter of vested rights, 
 meddling with neither politics nor religion, and be- 
 lieving that what is, should be. Arrayed in the dress 
 of his fathers, he is faithful to a glorious past, ever 
 guarding his traditions as zealously as he guards his 
 home. In The Prudent Man (L'Uomo prudente), 
 for instance, Pantalone is a middle-class husband un- 
 swayed by fashion a man with the tradition of a past 
 century, who, finding a cicisbeo in his house, admin- 
 isters this feudal admonition: 
 
 You don't deserve ever to leave this place alive, and I ought 
 to have you drawn and quartered. But I am human and I love 
 my neighbour as myself ; I shall therefore content myself by warn- 
 ing you as a brother and a friend. Do not eye my wife or daugh- 
 ter either little or much, and never set foot in my house again; 
 above all, take care that you tell no one of what has happened 
 here this evening. In case you ever dare to approach this house, 
 I tell you in confidence that, beneath one of the steps, there is a 
 trap and that, to precipitate you into a pit filled with nails and 
 razors, all I have to do is to touch a secret spring. In case you 
 try to meet my wife and daughter elsewhere, or if you are so rash 
 as to blab, I have enough sequins in my purse to pay for having 
 you shot in the back without any one suspecting whence the shot 
 comes. I speak to you about this calmly and without anger. 
 Profit by my advice and let your conduct be prudent. 
 
 This burgher with the sentiments of the Middle 
 Ages even threatens to bury his wife alive; yet he is 
 not without a fine sense of honour, for, when the 
 lady, seeking to put an end to him by placing poison 
 
 2 Op. cit. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 275 
 
 in his pottage, is exposed by the death of a dog which 
 had partaken of it and is arrested for her crime, he 
 defends her in open court and obtains her acquittal, 
 "his tenderness," to quote his author, "finally win- 
 ning the hearts of his enemies, his prudence saving 
 the honour of his family." 
 
 Conservative, middle-class Pantalone is indeed 
 out of sympathy with the new-fangled ways of cicis- 
 beism and a fashionable society which turns night 
 into day. He will not let the women of his family 
 show themselves half dressed to the gallants who 
 lace their stays ; they may not receive actresses in his 
 house, nor give progressive dinners in the latest fash- 
 ion by serving the soup, the roast, and the dessert 
 each on a separate table in a separate room. When 
 his women go abroad, their eyelids are lowered de- 
 murely; water, not pomade, is used to sleek their 
 hair; and when company comes to the house, their 
 toilet consists merely in the removing of their aprons, 
 for, though they have jewels, their pride lies in the 
 possession, not the showing. 
 
 ^/The Rialto, with its banks, shops, and exchanges, 
 is Pantalone's Venice, and there, amid the hum of 
 traffic, he labours till the bell of the Rialtina strikes 
 the hour when he may go to his hermetically sealed 
 house in a narrow street away from the joys of the 
 Piazza, a house as carefully closed as his heart to the 
 merry sounds of the carnival. There he puts on his 
 red slippers, takes a pinch of snufl from his horn 
 snuff-box, adjusts his spectacles, and settles himself 
 
276 GOLDONI 
 
 in his favourite chair to pass his evening in a quiet 
 corner of Venice, where the only sound to disturb 
 him is a neighbouring cobbler's song or the groan- 
 ing of the organ at the parish church. Knitting 
 stockings, scratching her head with her needle from 
 time to time, Eufemia, his fat wife, sits beside him: 
 though outwardly demure, Rosaura and Diana, his 
 pretty daughters, stifle in the close atmosphere of 
 that room, "where," to quote M. Monnier once more, 
 "the furniture and the cares are always in the same 
 place." 3 Their youthful blood is not yet frozen, 
 therefore each of these pretty girls imagines her- 
 self to be a zentildonna and sighs for a cicisbeo or 
 that latest gown from Paris, a manage. Ashamed 
 of his father's calling, Eugenio, the brother of these 
 bourgeois maidens, is meanwhile swaggering in the 
 Piazza and pretending to be a gentleman, or mayhap 
 losing some of his father's hard-earned sequins at 
 the gaming-tables of that rogue Pandolfo, fleecer 
 of unwary youths. If not there, the young scape- 
 grace is perchance paying his tender respects to Li- 
 saura, the ballet-dancer, who lives next door to 
 Pandolfo; for only when his purse is empty does Pan- 
 talone's son seek the parental hearthside. 
 
 When Pantalone dies, wayward Eugenio inherits 
 
 his fortune and business, neglects his young wife, 
 
 and gambles his patrimony away at the tables of 
 
 I Pandolfo. Ridolfo, who keeps the coffee-house 
 
 hard by, was once his father's servant. With com- 
 
 3 Op cit. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 277 
 
 mendable attachment for the family he has served, 
 this worthy man laments the bad habits of his former 
 master's son, reproves him, so far as he dares, lends 
 him money without his knowing whence it comes, 
 and "partly by good advice, partly by admonitions, 
 partly by kindness, and partly by generosity," opens 
 the eyes of his master's unruly son and "makes an- 
 other man of him." 
 
 This is the simple story of The jCoffee-House 4 
 (La Bottega del caffe] , a naturalistic comedy in Tus- 
 can of the life of bourgeois Venice such as Goldoni 
 wrote more frequently, though seldom more deftly, 
 in the speech of his native city. Although this play 
 is merely a vivacious picture of life in one of those 
 little squares called campielli, where two narrow 
 streets cross in the city of the lagoons, its characters 
 are true, its action real, and its vivacious dialogue 
 so unliterary as to be condemned by Baretti, a critic 
 of Goldoni's day, as barbarous; yet so natural that 
 one need only walk the streets of Venice to hear its 
 like. The plot has been outlined above; there is a 
 sub-plot, however, concerning the quest of a wife 
 in the disguise of a pilgrim for an erring husband 
 who is a gambler and the protector of a pretty ballet 
 girl; and occasionally some strained portion of the 
 attenuated story recalls the fact that this is a comedy 
 contemporaneous with the artificiality of Marivaux 
 and the studied sarcasm of Voltaire. "In the title 
 
 4 In the published versions of this comedy there are no masks, al- 
 though when first produced there were, according to its author, several 
 mask characters. 
 
278 GOLDONI 
 
 of the comedy," says Goldoni, "I do not introduce 
 a story, a passion, or a character, but merely a cof- 
 fee-house, where several actions take place simul- 
 taneously, whither several people are brought by 
 different interests." "The piece," he continues, 
 "should be read in its entirety before being judged, 
 there being as many character studies as there are 
 persons in the play. Among them is a prattling 
 slanderer who is very original and funny a plague 
 of humanity who bores the customers of the coffee- 
 house where the scene is laid." 
 
 In this ingenuous way, Goldoni refers to Don 
 Marzio, the scandal-monger, one of the most original 
 of his characterizations. An out-at-elbows Nea- 
 politan gentleman stranded in Venice, who passes 
 his time in drinking water at Ridolfo's coffee-house, 
 Don Marzio, at once guileless and artful, is a busy- 
 body whose tongue wags constantly and whose ears 
 are strained for gossip which his vivid southern im- 
 agination invariably distorts. Like the Marchese 
 di Forlipopoli in The Mistress of the Inn, he is an 
 impecunious gentleman trying to keep up appear- 
 ances, and like him, too, unable to realize that the 
 most inefficient of human creatures is a gentleman 
 with an empty pocket-book. But Forlipopoli loves 
 Mirandolina; whereas Don Marzio loves only the 
 sound of his own mischievous voice. Even when 
 his intentions are the best, he can read only ulterior 
 motives into the innocent remarks he chances to over- 
 hear, with the consequence that, whenever his nose is 
 
GOLDONI IX A COFFEE-HOUSE 
 
 Collection of Professor Italico Brass 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 279 
 
 poked into other people's business, his wagging 
 tongue creates mischief. This whimsical old med- 
 dler is thus introduced in a conversation with Ri- 
 dolfo, proprietor of the coffee-house: 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 Here comes one who never stops talking and who always will 
 have it that he is in the right. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Coffee. 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 You'll be served immediately. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 What news is there, Ridolfo? 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 I hardly know, sir. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Hasn't anybody turned up here yet? 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 It's still early. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Early? Ten o'clock has struck! 5 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 Oh! sir no; it isn't eight yet. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Get out, you fool! 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 I assure you that eight has not yet struck. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Get out, you donkey! 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 You abuse me without reason. 
 * Literally, sixteen o'clock, the Venetian day beginning at sunset. 
 
280 GOLDONI 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 I counted the strokes this very moment, and I tell you it is 
 ten o'clock. Moreover, look at my watch! it's never wrong. 
 (Shows his watch.) 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 Well, if your watch is never wrong, pray observe that your 
 watch says a quarter to eight. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 It isn't possible. (Uses his eye-glass.) 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 Well, what does your watch say? 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 My watch is keeping poor time. I heard it strike ten. 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 Where did you buy your watch? 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 I had it sent to me from London. 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 They cheated you. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Cheated me? How? 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 They sent you a poor watch. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Poor! What do you mean? It's one of the best watches 
 Quare ever made. 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 If it were good it wouldn't be two hours behind the time. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 It always runs well; it's never behind time. 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 But if it says a quarter to eight, and you say it is ten ? 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 281 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 My watch runs well, I tell you. 
 
 RIDOLFO 
 
 Therefore it's about eight o'clock, just as I said. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 You're an impertinent rascal. My watch runs well, but you 
 talk ill. Take care I don't box your ears. 6 
 
 A waiter finally brings Don Marzio his coffee; 
 his busy tongue wags on. "Tell me, Ridolfo," he 
 asks, regarding the dancer who dwells nearby, "what 
 is that ballet girl doing in this neighbourhood?" 
 "In truth, I know nothing about her," Ridolfo an- 
 swers; whereupon Don Marzio declares that he has 
 heard she is under the protection of Count Leandro, 
 a slanderous statement waxing so tremendous in his 
 imagination that, when Ridolfo returns a moment 
 later, the old scandalmonger has woven a tale to the 
 effect that she is protected by Count Leandro, who, 
 "instead of spending his money on her, helps him- 
 self to all the poor creature earns; and perhaps be- 
 cause of him, she is forced to lead a life she would 
 not otherwise lead." 
 
 "But I have never seen any one except Count Le- 
 andro enter her house," Ridolfo protests. 
 
 "She has a backdoor, you fool," chuckles the old 
 gossip. "There is always an ebb and flow. She has 
 a backdoor, you fool !" 
 
 In this way, Don Marzio makes a story out of 
 whole cloth which he retails to any one who will 
 
 6 Act I, Scene 3. 
 
282 GOLDONI 
 
 listen. Throughout the play he is flitting about, 
 catching a word here, a look there, which his evil 
 old tongue rolls into a sweet morsel of slander. 
 Moreover, he is cantankerous, and will .ever have it 
 that his word is law even when he has not a leg to 
 stand his argument upon. Witness this scene with 
 Count Leandro : 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Come, let's sit down. What's new in the world's news? 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 I take no interest in the news. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Do you know that the Russian army has gone into winter quar- 
 ters? 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 They did right. The weather forced them to. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 No, sir, they did wrong. They should not have abandoned 
 the position they held. 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 True. They should have endured the cold rather than lose 
 their conquests. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 No, sir. They did not have to run the risk of being there at all, 
 with the danger of perishing in the ice. 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 Then they should have advanced. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 No, sir. Oh, what a fine knowledge of war! Advance in the 
 middle of winter ! 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 Then what should they have done ? 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 283 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Let me look at the map and then I'll tell you exactly where 
 they should have gone. 
 
 LEANDRO (Aside.) 
 Oh, what a superb fool! 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Were you at the opera? 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Did you like it? 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 Well enough. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 You have poor taste. 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 Enough ! 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Where are you from? 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 Turin. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 An ugly town. 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 On the contrary, it passes for one of the finest in Italy. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 I am a Neapolitan; see Naples, then die. 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 I should give you the Venetian's answer. 7 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Have you any snuff? 
 
 7 The Venetian proverb is Vedi Venezia e poi discorri (See Venice and 
 then talk). 
 
284 GOLDONI 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 Here! (Opens his snuff-box.) 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 What atrocious snuff! 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 It's good enough for me. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 You know nothing about it. Rappee is the genuine snuff. 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 I like Spanish snuff. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 Spanish snuff is an abomination. 
 
 LEANDRO 
 
 And I say it's the best snuff a man can take. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 What! You presume to tell me what snuff is! I make it, I 
 have it made for me. I buy it here, I buy it there. I know what 
 this is. Rappee, rappee, it must be rappee! (Shouts loudly.) 
 
 LEANDRO (Shouting too). 
 Yes, sir, rappee, rappee, it's true that rappee is the best snuff. 
 
 DON MARZIO 
 
 No, sir! Rappee is not always the best snuff; one must dis- 
 criminate. You don't know what you are talking about. 8 
 
 Don Marzio not only quarrels with every one who 
 opposes him, but he betrays, as well, the secrets of 
 his friends, ruins the characters of women, and de- 
 livers fugitives into the hands of the police with 
 a mischievousness so ingenuous that he cannot un- 
 derstand why maledictions are showered upon him 
 by his victims. "They complain of my tongue," 
 he laments; "yet I am sure I speak kindly. It is 
 
 *Act II, Scene 16. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 285 
 
 true I talk occasionally about this one or that one, 
 but believing that I speak the truth, I do not ab- 
 stain from it. I tell readily what I know, but I do 
 it because I have a kind heart." The unconscious 
 protagonist of a play in which his tongue snarls ev- 
 ery knot, this unique portrayal of the evils of gossip 
 is a character worthy a place in the immortal com- 
 pany of Mascarille and Figaro. 
 
 Translated into English by Mr. Henry B. Fuller, 
 this comedy was presented by The Drama Players, 
 under the auspices of the Chicago Theatre Society, 
 during the dramatic season of 1912, and received 
 with mild curiosity, not to say indifference, by an 
 American audience; yet in extenuation of this ill 
 success, it may be said that the actors, temperamen- 
 tally unsuited to their parts, had been insufficiently 
 rehearsed, and that the play had been hurriedly 
 staged without having received the judicious prun- 
 ing so necessary to a modern revival of old comedy. 
 Although one Chicago critic declared that "The 
 Coffee-House will inspire no emotion save that of 
 ennui," while another dismissed it as "artistic fluff," 
 the charm of this quaintly naturalistic comedy was 
 keenly felt by that intrepid champion of dramatic 
 excellence, Mr. James O'Donnell Bennett, of the 
 Record-Herald, his critique being so intuitively just 
 to this droll portrayal of the life of Venice in her 
 decadence that it shall be quoted here as a vicarious 
 expression of the present writer's views regarding 
 it: 
 
286 GOLDONI 
 
 That quaint fabric of naivete and sapiency, "The Coffee- 
 House," was enacted, probably for the first time on the English- 
 speaking stage, at the Lyric Theatre last evening before an assem- 
 blage that at first seemed to be rubbing its eyes to adjust its vision 
 to a composition that, when you have adjusted yourself to it, is 
 very engaging. When the audience had put itself back into Venice 
 of the mid-eighteenth century, and when it began to sense the 
 kindliness, the homely wisdom, the sweet trustfulness and the 
 soft drollery that distinguish everything the good Carlo Goldoni 
 wrote then it enjoyed itself. Until then it seemed dissatisfied 
 wondering perhaps with what relic the Chicago Theatre Society 
 was trying to fool it. 
 
 But you cannot long resist "Dr. Goldoni, a Venetian lawyer," as 
 they called him in the early days of his memorable career. . . . He 
 is one of the loves of literature, and it was a genuine pleasure to 
 this reviewer to sit with him last evening and observe him in his 
 kindly, busy, deft, officious, sometimes artless and sometimes very 
 shrewd way, manoeuvring the people he knew so thoroughly in 
 that trivial, impetuous, genial Venice of his. 
 
 Here came the male babbler, preening and mincing in lace and 
 silk, sipping his coffee in the open, lying in wait for a bit of gossip 
 like a cat for a mouse, putting two and two together and making 
 what he liked out of it, symbolizing in a different way but just 
 as wonderfully the "motiveless malignity" of lago, and epito- 
 mizing mischief and malevolence. . . . The character is drawn 
 full length perfect in every puttering detail, an officious, gloat- 
 ing, eavesdropping babbler who wins for himself in the denoue- 
 ment the word of terrifying import in the Venice of 1760 
 ''spy," and who thinks himself so little deserving of that word 
 that he whimpers as the curtain falls: "I have a good heart, but 
 but I talk too much!" He is an unforgivable, unforgettable 
 old man, and he was as alive last night as he was one hundred and 
 fifty-two years ago. 
 
 Here is that Signor Eugenio, who "pursues women and gam- 
 bles like a madman"; here the old servant of the father of Eu- 
 genio, who has saved his money and opened a coffee-house and de- 
 clares with honest pride that his is a calling which, when pursued 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 287 
 
 aright, serves alike the pleasure and the comfort of the town ; here 
 the gambler and his gulls ; here neglected wives voicing their griefs 
 with the gorgeous virulence characteristic of their race; here the 
 impudent servants who know too much. They are all alive. 
 Babbler, crook, spendthrift, benevolent old man, the acquisitive 
 and the inquisitive they go busily their ways. Innuendo, pro- 
 test, impeachment, denial fly through the air. The old servant 
 reconciles the contentious, heartens up the grieving, assists the pen- 
 niless, tries to implant good sense and right feeling in the soul of 
 even the crooked gambler, reunites estranged husbands and wives, 
 brings everything to a happy issue for everybody, except the mean 
 scandalmonger. Him the sunny Carlo cannot forgive, and at the 
 end he sends him trailing across a deserted stage, the hateful word 
 "spy" informer would perhaps convey the meaning better ring- 
 ing in his ears. 
 
 The mechanism of it has occasionally been so obvious that in 
 these knowing days a child could run it. Sometimes the move- 
 ment has been forced and tame. But the human nature of it is 
 valid. We know that these people existed, that they hurried and 
 idled and gossiped and quarrelled in yonder sunlit square, irascible, 
 volatile, weak, venomous, distracted. They rejoiced. They suf- 
 fered. They lived. 
 
 The satire of The Coffee-House was not directed 
 solely against scandal, the evils of gambling being 
 also brought under its stinging lash. Eugenio, the 
 young merchant, losing his patrimony at cards and 
 pawning his wife's jewels, is a powerful sermon 
 against this vice, while Pandolfo, the gambler, is a 
 faithfully drawn character, who meets his moral de- 
 serts by his delivery into the hands of justice through 
 the blabbing of Don Marzio. The arrest of a gam- 
 bler would have been an anomaly in Venice a few 
 years previously, yet a moral revulsion had swept 
 over that pleasure-loving town one of those 
 
288 GOLDONI 
 
 sporadic crusades against vice such as obtain in 
 American cities. Games of chance had been de- 
 clared illegal, the gambling tables of the Ridotto 
 had been suppressed; to quote Goldoni: "Even the 
 members of the Great Council who were fond of 
 gambling had voted in favour of the new law," the 
 powers that were in Venice being apparently not so 
 oligarchically entrenched that they might scorn vote- 
 winning politics. It was an opportune moment for 
 a play directed against the evils of gaming, so op- 
 portune, in fact, that, with a practical dramatist's 
 eye ever upon the public taste, Goldoni launched a 
 few months later another dramatic missile against 
 the card-sharpers of Venice; but The Gambler (II 
 Gluocatore) , as this new play was called, in the words 
 of its author, "failed hopelessly," because the epi- 
 sodic gamester of The Coffee-House surpassed the 
 one who was the subject of a play another evidenqe 
 of the futility of literary repetition. 9 / 
 
 Although the clement protagonist of The Father 
 of a Family (II Padre di famiglia) called Pancra- 
 zio, wears small clothes instead of long, red trousers, 
 and a periwig in lieu of a mask, he is, however, a 
 merchant of Venice, and therefore Pantalone's 
 ectype. In spite of his paternal affection, he is still 
 somewhat of a prig, and less human by far than 
 Beatrice, his second wife, or Ottavio, the dissipated 
 tutor who leads the younger of his charges into vile 
 ways, and bullies the elder, Pancrazio's child by his 
 
 9 The evils of gaming are also set forth in La Buona moglle. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 289 
 
 first wife. "I had seen in society complacent moth- 
 ers," says Goldoni, "unjust step-mothers, spoiled 
 children, and dangerous teachers, so I assembled 
 these different objects in a single picture, portraying 
 in a sprightly way, by means of a wise and prudent 
 father, the correction of vice and the example of 
 virtue." In valuing his plays "according to his own 
 feelings," he would, he adds, "say much in favour 
 of The Father of a Family" The adverse decision 
 of the public forced him, however, to place it in the 
 second rank an unconscious tribute to the public's 
 acumen, for, although this play has been translated 
 into several languages, including English, and has 
 been included in more than one selected edition of the 
 comedies, its smugness and its lachrymose plot 
 should keep it confined to the rank in which the 
 Venetian public placed it. 
 
 In The Obedient Daughter (La Figlia obbedi- 
 ente), Pantalone plays the role of an obdurate father, 
 who forces his daughter to bend to his will. But her 
 lover is not so supine. Threatening to kill the rich 
 old count whom Pantalone has chosen for her hus- 
 band, he so thoroughly frightens him that he jilts 
 her, while consoling himself with a ballet-dancer. 
 Olivetta, this lady of the coulisses, Brighella, her 
 complaisant father, and Count Ottavio, her rich ad- 
 mirer, are three characters whose drolleries form a 
 sprightly sub-comedy, although, as the author says, 
 "the principal story is not very interesting because 
 lacking in suspense." 
 
290 GOLDONI 
 
 To find in the minor characters of Goldoni's duller 
 comedies bright flashes of his genius is no uncom- 
 mon thing; yet in none are they more ludicrously true 
 to life than in The Obedient Daughter, Brighella, the 
 ex-valet, who acclaims the presents made his daugh- 
 ter as tributes to her art, and who forces his former 
 fellow-servant, Arlecchino, to address him as Ex- 
 cellency, being a character as droll as Captain Cos- 
 tigan or Monsieur Cardinal, both of whom he re- 
 sembles. Ostensibly blind to his daughter's lapses, 
 he vaunts her terpsichorean triumphs, while selling 
 for his own benefit the sweetmeats she does not con- 
 sume and accepting tips from English lords and Ger- 
 man princes. When she washes her hands in an or- 
 dinary bowl, he begs her to repeat the ablution in 
 a silver basin, while in her interviews with titled 
 men he assists her with all the self-importance he 
 can assume; yet all the while he is unable to dis- 
 guise the fact that before she became a "star" he was 
 an upper-servant. 
 
 This humorous sidelight shed on theatrical life 
 in an otherwise bourgeois comedy tempts one to wan- 
 der for a moment away from Pantalone's strait- 
 laced household to the green-room itself, for in 
 The Manager from Smyrna (L 'Impresario delle 
 Smirne), Goldoni presents a more complete and even 
 more satirical picture of stage folk. The manager 
 in question is a Turkish merchant who, coming to 
 Venice on business, is so delighted with the opera 
 that he resolves to take a troupe back to Smyrna, his 
 

 COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 291 
 
 native town, the poor Turk, whose knowledge of 
 women is confined to the odalisques of his harem, 
 being soon pestered to distraction by prime donne 
 seeking engagements, each as pretentious and self- 
 centred as the most pampered of modern stage di- 
 vinities. Although each is accompanied by a retinue 
 of old women, brothers, kinsfolk, birds in cages, 
 dogs, poll-parrots, and doddering admirers, these ar- 
 tists of little merit have such a meagre repertory 
 that a poetaster, armed with the complete works of 
 Metastasio and Zeno, is obliged to give assurance that, 
 with the aid of a rhyming dictionary, he can write 
 new words to fit the hackneyed tunes which have 
 cracked their voices. Indeed, so insufferable do the 
 trials of the amateur manager become that he flees 
 in desperation from the tempers of the prime donne 
 to the peace of his harem at Smyrna; after having 
 entrusted an agent with the task of giving the artists 
 a quarter of their promised salary, "instead of the 
 insults they merit." 
 
 But mention of The Manager from Smyrna here 
 is a distinct digression, bourgeois Pantalone being 
 no habitue des coulisses. On the contrary, as the 
 staid father of a respectable family, he was often at 
 his wits' end in keeping in leash some badly be- 
 haved son, such as Lelio, whose escapades give sub- 
 ject to The Liar (II Bugiardo] , a play founded, as 
 the author frankly confesses, on Corneille's comedy 
 of similar name (Le Menteur). Here Goldoni 
 follows in the footsteps not only of the author of The 
 
292 GOLDONI 
 
 Cld but of Alarcon as well; still the sprightly adven- 
 tures into which a young liar's glib tongue leads him 
 are told with certain novel touches which Voltaire 
 thus describes : 10 
 
 There are in Goldoni two very amusing elements; the first is 
 a rival of the liar, who, in repeating as the truth all the false- 
 hoods the liar has told him, is himself taken for a liar; while the 
 second is a valet, who, wishing to emulate his master, plunges into 
 ridiculous lies from which he cannot extricate himself. 
 
 Voltaire adds, however, that Goldoni's liar is less 
 noble than Corneille's, although, as a matter of fact, 
 he is a far more consistent person than his French 
 prototype, Goldoni's fidelity to nature being appar- 
 ent even in this borrowed comedy. Lelio may be 
 odious as indeed a liar ought to be yet he is con- 
 sistently a bourgeois. Even when masquerading as 
 a nobleman, he would never have convinced a man 
 to the manner born that he was of noble birth, 
 whereas Corneille's Dorante, though a bourgeois 
 too, neither talks nor acts like one at any time; a 
 nicety of characterization on Goldoni's part which 
 Voltaire overlooked. 
 
 The Merchants (I Mercantl) is still another play 
 in which Pantalone has a wayward son who dissi- 
 pates his father's wealth, but in this instance the 
 prodigal's reclamation is brought about by the tact 
 and patience of his sweetheart, Giannina, a girl Gol- 
 doni rightly calls "very well educated and very sen- 
 
 10 Commentalre sur Corneille. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 293 
 
 sible." n But if Pantalone often had trouble with 
 his sons, the rearing of his children of the weaker 
 sex was sometimes a problem as well, especially if 
 they happened to be two marriageable daughters, 
 one a capricious miss never twice of the same mind, 
 and the other an ingenuous little fool. 
 
 This is his predicament in The Fickle Woman 
 (La Donna volubile), a play written to satirize an 
 actress in Medebac's company, who, according to the 
 author, was "the most capricious woman in the 
 world." 12 This weathercock in petticoats is pun- 
 ished in a manner befitting her flightiness, since, 
 when she has finally made up her mind to marry, 
 none of her admirers will have her. Her father, 
 Pantalone, is wealthy, and his wealth has turned the 
 fickle lady's head. Had her mother been alive, and 
 she obliged to help in the work of the household in- 
 stead of being attended by two maids whom she 
 browbeats, inconstant Rosaura would have been bet- 
 ter behaved and better mannered, money being de- 
 cidedly at the root of her evil disposition. 
 
 A far more tractable daughter of Pantalone is to 
 be met in The Misadventure; or The Imprudent 
 
 11 / Mercanti, written to give Collalto a dual role, was originally 
 called / Due pantaloni, the two Pantaloons being father and son and 
 both of them merchants. Owing to the difficulty of finding an actor 
 capable of playing both roles successfully, Goldoni rewrote the play and 
 entitled it / Mercanti, Pantalone's name being changed to Pancrazio, 
 his son's to Giacinto. 
 
 12 La Donna vendicativa, a comedy of bald intrigue in which the 
 wiles of a scheming maid servant are set forth, was also written to 
 satirize an actress, Corallina, the lady in question "having vowed eternal 
 hatred" against Goldoni when he forswore her charms. 
 
294 GOLDONI 
 
 Babbler (II Contrattempo, o sla II Chiacchierone 
 imprudente), a comedy concerning the misfortunes 
 of a well-intentioned young man with a wagging 
 tongue. Yet the daughter in question, who plays 
 with a doll and knows not the meaning of the word 
 husband, is incredibly guileless for a young woman 
 of eighteen even if convent bred, though doubtless 
 she was designed as a model for the young girls of 
 Venice to emulate. 
 
 The most sprightly of Goldoni's comedies of the 
 Venetian bourgeoisie is The Inquisitive Women (Le 
 Donne curiose) the scene of which was ascribed to 
 Bologna because it satirized freemasonry, an alien in- 
 stitution, condemned by the Jesuits and anathema- 
 tized by the Pope; yet, to its author's liberal mind, 
 harmless alike to religion and morality. Two Eng- 
 lishmen, whom he knew, had instituted a masonic 
 lodge in Venice, of which he was perhaps a member, 
 although it seems more likely that he merely saw in 
 the outcry against freemasonry a subject for a spir- 
 ited comedy of popular appeal. At all events, The 
 Inquisitive Women, although noteworthy as the only 
 play in which he has the temerity to make dramatic 
 use of a political question, is so delightfully inno- 
 cent in its satire that even the tyrannical Council of 
 Ten could with difficulty have discerned in it a men- 
 ace to either the Church or the State. 
 
 "Under a well hidden, well disguised title," says 
 Goldoni, "this play represents a lodge of freema- 
 sons, Pantalone, a Venetian merchant, being at the 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 295 
 
 head of a society of persons of his own state which 
 meets in a small rented house to dine, sup, talk busi- 
 ness, or discuss the news of the day." In other words 
 this masonic lodge is merely a club, frequented, like 
 modern clubs, by men of congenial tastes in search of 
 relaxation, its only secret ordinance being the ex- 
 clusion of women from a share in its innocent pleas- 
 ures. Yet the fact that they are denied admission 
 to this club so whets the feminine curiosity of the 
 wives and sweethearts of its members that they plot 
 a way to penetrate its sacred precincts, in order to 
 discover whether their lords and lovers spend their 
 time there in gambling, in searching for the philoso- 
 pher's stone, or in entertaining women of question- 
 able character. Possessing themselves by trickery of 
 the keys of the club-house, these inquisitive women, 
 abetted by Corallina, a maid, succeed in bribing Pan- 
 talone's servant, Brighella, to hide them in a closet 
 while the club is in session, only to learn that "Friend- 
 ship" is its watchword, and its sole secret rite the en- 
 joyment of a delicious supper. Because of the inabil- 
 ity of these prying women to hold their tongues while 
 in their hiding place, their eavesdropping is discov- 
 ered; whereupon Brighella, in extenuation of his 
 treachery, declares that he admitted them to the club 
 for the commendable purpose of convincing them of 
 its harmlessness, the result being, so says Goldoni, 
 "that the men are not angry to find their wives unde- 
 ceived and themselves in a position to enjoy their in- 
 nocent pleasures." 
 
296 GOLDONI 
 
 The dramatic texture of The Inquisitive Women 
 is flimsy, yet so deftly is it draped upon its slender 
 framework of a single idea that this comedy is en- 
 titled to far higher rank than many for which its au- 
 thor built a more elaborate scaffolding. So much 
 does its interest depend upon its mirthful dialogue, 
 however, that it is easy to agree with Mr. Richard 
 Aldrich, the distinguished musical critic of the New 
 York Times, in believing that this lively comedy does 
 not cry aloud for musical illustration. Yet, as this 
 writer declares, "Wolf-Ferrari has made it into a 
 lyric drama with a skill and originality, with a com- 
 mand of the comic expressions of music, that are rare 
 to-day." 13 Human nature is a better basis, however, 
 than an artificial plot whether for an opera or for a 
 play, a fact that explains the undoubted charm of 
 The Inquisitive Women, the entire argument of which 
 is constructed upon the desire of a few over-curious 
 wives and sweethearts to find out what their hus- 
 bands and lovers are doing behind closed doors. Yet 
 feminine as is their curiosity, these women of Gol- 
 doni's day absolutely represent, to quote Signor Ern- 
 esto Masi, 14 "society endeavouring to divine in a 
 thousand ways the mystery of those masonic meet- 
 ings, which Pope Corsini with the bull In eminenti 
 of April 28th, 1738, had solemnly condemned." 
 
 13 Le Donne curiose, an opera founded on Goldoni's comedy of the 
 same name (music by Ermanno Wolf -Ferrari, text by Luigi Sugana), 
 produced in Munich 1903 and at the Metropolitan Opera-House, New 
 York, 1912. 
 
 14 Scelta di commedie di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 297 
 
 Freemasonry having long ceased to be a menace 
 to society at least in Anglo-Saxon countries the in- 
 terest in this play now lies in its sprightly plot and 
 faithful characterization, as well as in the homely 
 sayings of Ottavio, a phlegmatic, easy-going philoso- 
 pher, who, as Signor Masi hints, may have been Gol- 
 doni himself translated to the stage. Although the 
 sapient words of this character are many, there is 
 space here only for this single speech, uttered when 
 Flaminio, a young lover, complains of the fickleness 
 of Ottavio's daughter: 
 
 My dear friend, my daughter is only a woman like the rest. 
 She will have good moments and bad moments. Treat her like 
 the weather. Enjoy the calm, fly from the thunder, and when a 
 storm comes, retire and wait until the sun comes out. 
 
 Another passage worthy of translation is the con- 
 stitution of Goldoni's pseudo-Masonic lodge, which 
 is read to a candidate seeking admission, while the 
 inquisitive women listen in their hiding place, a doc- 
 ument so commendable that it shall be given in full, 
 in the hope that some club of the present day may 
 adopt it: 
 
 Article i. No one shall be admitted to membership who is not 
 upright, civil, and well-mannered. 
 
 Article 2. Each member may amuse himself as he will in ways 
 lawful, honest, virtuous, and of worthy example. 
 
 Article 3. Members shall dine and sup together, but soberly 
 and moderately, and any one drinking to excess or becoming in- 
 toxicated, will for the first offence be condemned to pay for the 
 dinner or supper given on that occasion, and for the second ex- 
 pelled from membership. 
 
298 GOLDONI 
 
 Article 4. Each member shall contribute one scudo toward the 
 maintenance of necessary things, such as furniture, lights, service, 
 books, paper, etc. 
 
 Article 5. The admission of women is forever forbidden, in 
 order that scandals, dissensions, jealousies, and similar matters 
 shall not arise. 
 
 Article 6. Surplus money not used for expenses shall be de- 
 posited in a coffer for the relief of some worthy poor man. 
 
 Article 7. Should any member suffer misfortune, without loss 
 of honour, he shall be assisted by the others and defended with fra- 
 ternal love. 
 
 Article 8. A member committing any crime or unworthy act 
 shall be expelled. 
 
 Article 9. In order that all ceremonies, compliments, and af- 
 fectations may be banished, any one wishing to leave may go, any 
 one wishing to remain may stay, and there shall be no other salu- 
 tation or compliment than "Friendship, friendship." 
 
 Although Pantalone figures in The Inquisitive 
 Women, his part is slight. Still, one of his 
 apothegms bears repetition: "It is not birth," he 
 says, "that makes a gentleman, but good deeds." 
 This shrewd merchant is manifestly out of place in a 
 masonic lodge, yet nowhere does he seem so ill at 
 ease as in The Unknown (IJ Incognita], a play of 
 which the scene is laid near Naples. Far from his 
 native Venice, he appears awkwardly here as the 
 father of a lovesick son, enamoured of a persecuted 
 maiden whose adventures entail a plot so complicated 
 and unreal that it is difficult to believe Goldoni is its 
 author. 
 
 In The Lovers (Gli Innamorati] , Pantalone plays 
 no part, the family to which we are here introduced 
 being of the haute bourgeoisie and no longer in trade. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 299 
 
 The story unfolded in this comedy is one of endear- 
 ments, suspicions, quarrels, and reconciliations, told 
 according to the conventional formula : the lovers in 
 this instance were drawn from life, however, their 
 originals being Maddalena Poloni, the daughter of 
 Goldoni's Roman landlord, and Bartolommeo Pinto, 
 her betrothed, in whose wavering love-affair our 
 dramatist had assisted as confidant during his resi- 
 dence in Rome. Whether or not Fabrizio, the head 
 of the bourgeois household here presented, is a por- 
 trait of his worthy Roman host, Pietro Poloni, Gol- 
 doni does not inform us, yet he is a lifelike por- 
 trayal of a tuft-hunting parvenu, who, to impress 
 his guests with his social importance, talks of the 
 grand people he knows. To curry favour with im- 
 portant people this wealthy upstart offers to lend 
 them his cook, his atlas, and even his collection of 
 old masters ; yet although the latter are spurious, he 
 is no such credulous gull as the unwitting collector 
 of false antiques who gives name to The Antiqua- 
 rian's Family (La Famiglia dell' antiquario). 
 
 Impoverished by his passion for antiques, Count 
 Anselmo, the protagonist of this latter comedy, is 
 just the sort of dupe to whom the modern picture 
 sharp sells his Corots, the cheat in this case being his 
 own servant, Brighella, a rogue who induces his fel- 
 low-townsman Arlecchino to play the role of an Ar- 
 menian archaeologist and palm off on his master an 
 old kitchen lamp as "an eternal light from the tomb 
 of Bartholomew," and a leaf from a book of modern 
 
300 GOLDONI 
 
 Greek love-songs as "a treaty of peace between 
 Athens and Sparta penned by Demosthenes' own 
 hand." The whims of this would-be antiquarian, 
 whom even an expert's opinion that his collection is 
 rubbish cannot cure of his mania, form, however, 
 only the atmospheric background for a comedy on 
 the perennial mother-in-law problem, Goldoni's 
 Sub-title The Mother-ln-Law and the Daughter-ln- 
 Law (La Suocera e la nuora) describing the action 
 more accurately than The Antiquarian s Family, this 
 particular antiquarian's household being dominated 
 by his wife until Doralice, his son's wife, takes the 
 domestic bit in her mouth. 
 
 When Count Anselmo has spent the last paolo of 
 her dowry on spurious relics, Doralice, rebelling 
 against the snubs inflicted upon her by her mother- 
 in-law because of her plebeian birth, robs the latter 
 of one of her truculent cicisbei and insults her into 
 the bargain; whereupon Pantalone, this trouble- 
 maker's father, and a wholly sensible man of af- 
 fairs as well, quietly gathers the domestic reins into 
 his own hands. Inducing Count Anselmo to make 
 him the assignee of his bankrupt estate, Pantalone 
 holds the purse-strings and is able thereby to force 
 the warring women to hold their tongues. Making 
 the antiquarian an allowance of one hundred scudl 
 per annum to squander on false antiques, he dis- 
 misses a talebearing housemaid, consigns the elder 
 termagant to the upper and the younger to the lower 
 floor of the house, and remarks as the curtain falls 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 301 
 
 that "if they do not see each other or talk to each 
 other, quiet may perhaps obtain, this being the only 
 way a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law can live 
 together in harmony." Yet, as Goldoni says, in 
 commenting upon the complete reconciliation made 
 to take place between them by a French adapter 
 of this play, there can be "no assurance that on the 
 morrow the disputes of these two vixens will not 
 break forth anew." 
 
 Quarrelsome little Doralice is wholly unlike gen- 
 tle Rosaura of The Sensible Wife, another daughter 
 of Pantalone wedded to a nobleman's son ; yet she is 
 no more vixenish or vulgar than her mother-in-law, 
 who, despite her superior birth, is quite as ill-bred as 
 this daughter-in-law whose ignoble birth has tar- 
 nished a proud name. Indeed, although Count An- 
 selmo is nobly born, the behaviour of his family is 
 essentially bourgeois, and the same may be said of 
 the noble family in Domestic Bickerings (I Puntigll 
 domestici) the theme of which is the servant ques- 
 tion : a topic apparently as rife in Goldoni's day as in 
 our own, since, in speaking of this play, he says it was 
 inspired by several families he had seen to be "the 
 dupes of their attachment for their servants." In 
 both The Antiquarian's Family and Domestic Bicker- 
 ings, two families, living under the same roof, quarrel 
 and listen to the tales their servants bear; in both the 
 titles of count and countess are borne by certain char- 
 acters, and in each, it may be added, the truth of Ba- 
 retti's aspersion is manifest, Goldoni's princesses talk* 
 
302 GOLDONI 
 
 ing like ladies' maids. Hence these families, though 
 noble in name, are bourgeois in manner. 
 
 Another comedy of the upper bourgeoisie is The 
 Fanatic Poet (II Poeta fanatlco), a play in which 
 our dramatist ridicules the poetic arrogance of a 
 wealthy burgher he had known, while satirizing 
 mildly as well the euphuistic pretensions of the Ar- 
 cadian Academies. Every one in the household of 
 Ottavio, the fanatic in question, even to Brighella, 
 his servant, is encouraged to spout verse, Beatrice, 
 his second wife, alone being free from this besetting 
 folly; yet The Fanatic Poet is a skit rather than a 
 play, and is, as its author declares frankly, "one of 
 his most feeble comedies." Furthermore, honest 
 Pantalone plays no part therein, therefore it does not 
 truly typify his Venice. 
 
 Accustomed, as he was, to haggling in the marts of 
 trade, this worthy citizen could hardly abstain from 
 recourse to the law; hence he was often either plain- 
 tiff or defendant. Moreover, Goldoni was himself a 
 lawyer, so that the law naturally plays a part in 
 many of his comedies. Unlike Moliere, who had 
 studied law but had not practised it, Goldoni treated 
 the profession seriously; often portraying wicked law- 
 yers, as in The Cavalier and the Lady, where a thiev- 
 ing solicitor despoils a poor woman for his own ben- 
 efit, and in Domestic Bickerings, where another 
 conscienceless man of law thrives on the difficulties 
 of a warring family. Again, in The Impostor, there 
 is an attorney, who shows a client how he may outwit 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 303 
 
 his creditors ; while in The Lucky Heiress, a singular 
 will leaves another lawyer heir to his brother's es- 
 tate in case the latter's daughter does not marry his 
 former partner. Yet unscrupulous as are the in- 
 trigues of this Tartuffe of the robe, he is outwitted by 
 a valet and loses the inheritance. In The Prudent 
 Man, Pantalone appears as his own lawyer to defend 
 his wife against the charge of having attempted to 
 poison him, a case Goldoni declares to have come un- 
 der his own observation when practising law at Pisa; 
 while in The Clever Woman, Rosaura the heroine, 
 in order to make her lover fulfil his promise of mar- 
 riage, pleads her own cause in legal phrases worthy 
 a doctor of Padua. 
 
 Yet howsoever severely he may have scored the 
 evil practices of his profession in these plays, Gol- 
 doni makes full atonement in The Venetian Advo- 
 cate (L'Avvocato veneziano), an apotheosis of the 
 law in which the hero, a Venetian lawyer, falls in 
 love with his client's opponent, yet remains true to his 
 professional honour. By winning the lawsuit, he re- 
 duces his sweetheart to penury, but gallantly amends 
 the wrong by offering her his hand and fortune. 
 When Florindo, his friend and client, discovering his 
 passion, offers to pay his fee and permit him to with- 
 draw from the case, Alberto, this lawyer, thus indig- 
 nantly answers him : 
 
 Sior Florindo, I have let you talk. I have let you fulminate 
 without defending myself. Now that you have finished, I shall 
 speak briefly. That humanity is frail I do not deny; that a wise 
 
304 GOLDONI 
 
 and prudent man may fall in love, I grant; but for a man of 
 honour to permit himself to be carried away by a blind passion to 
 the prejudice of his dignity and self-esteem is harder than you be- 
 lieve, and if in the matter at hand there are bad examples, Alberto 
 is not capable of following them. The doubt you demonstrate 
 regarding my honesty and faith is to me a grave offence, but I am 
 not in a position to show resentment, because my resentment might 
 in that instance substantiate your words. I am here to defend 
 your case, I am here to conduct it. I shall conduct it because my 
 honour is involved, not for the vile advantage you have brutally 
 and unreasonably had the audacity to offer me. You will see with 
 what ardour, heart, and spirit I shall defend you. You will know 
 then who I am; you will repent of having offended me with un- 
 worthy suspicions, and you will learn to think better of honest 
 men and honourable advocates. 
 
 Although this Venetian barrister opposes the pe- 
 dantic written pleadings of a Bolognese doctor with 
 arguments elegantly and easily extemporized in his 
 mellifluent native speech, he is not a lawyer, but 
 rather a mouthpiece for his author, who declares with 
 his habitual naivete that his professional brethren, 
 "accustomed to seeing the robe made ridiculous in 
 the old improvised comedies," were satisfied with "the 
 honourable manner in which he had presented it." 
 "Yet evil persons were not lacking to envenom his 
 intentions," he adds bitterly, there being one among 
 them "who cried aloud that it was in reality a criticism 
 of the lawyers," and that he had presented an in- 
 corruptible lawyer "in order to heighten by contrast 
 the weakness and avidity of a host of others." 
 
 If, in The Venetian Advocate, Goldoni portrayed 
 a lawyer such as he would have liked to be, in The 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 305 
 
 Honest Adventurer (UAvventurlere onorato) , he de- 
 picted, as he openly avowed, a hero with many of his 
 own characteristics, the rolling stone who gave name 
 to this play having been like his author a lawyer, a 
 doctor, a court official, secretary, consul, and dramatic 
 poet. Here the likeness ceases, for, although Gol- 
 doni had had a few honourless love-affairs, he was 
 certainly a better fellow than this adventurer, whose 
 "honesty" consisted in telling a girl who loved him 
 that, although he preferred another, he would marry 
 her a promise kept only until a rich widow had paid 
 for the breach of it. 
 
 Still the escapades of this adventurer of doubtful 
 honesty are more entertaining by far than the bour- 
 geois sermons Goldoni was in the habit of preaching 
 from time to time. The Good Family (La Buona 
 famlglla), for instance, he calls "a moral play, useful 
 to society," which was "applauded by sensible per- 
 sons, worthy couples, wise fathers, and prudent moth- 
 ers"; yet it proved to be so tiresome that, to quote its 
 author once more, "it had no luck upon the stage." 
 The Fond Mother (La Madre amoroso) , too, a piece 
 in which a mother sacrifices herself for her daughter's 
 happiness, though suggestive in theme of Maurice 
 Donnay's admirable modern play, L'Autre danger, 
 is but another fustian sermon best passed in silence. 
 Indeed, Goldoni's tragedies bourgeoises, as his 
 French contemporaries styled plays of this stilted na- 
 ture, when without Pantalone's honest personality, are 
 but lachrymose comedies savouring of Diderot, come- 
 
3 o6 GOLDONI 
 
 dies more magniloquent than human, in the penning 
 of which our dramatist forswore his genius. 
 
 To return to Pantalone's strait-laced household is 
 indeed a relief. Here, at least, likable human be- 
 ings are met with, though often they are over-senti- 
 mentalized, as in The Devoted Servant (La Serva 
 amorosa), a play wherein the son of a merchant of 
 Venice is driven from the parental hearth by a step- 
 mother's intrigues on behalf of her own offspring, 15 
 the crucial situation, in which Corallina, the house- 
 maid, disguised as a notary's clerk, induces the mer- 
 chant to feign death and learn that his second wife has 
 married him only through self-interest, being taken 
 bodily from Moliere. In The Clever Lady's Maid 
 (La Cameriera brillante], a more traditional sou- 
 brette is the protagonist. Here Pantalone appears as 
 a close-fisted old widower who forbids his house to the 
 admirers of his daughters, Argentina, the vivacious, 
 resourceful, yet unscrupulous soubrette of French 
 classical comedy, who gives this play its name, being 
 the real mistress of his household since, through her 
 wiles, the old merchant suffers not only the loss of his 
 daughters, but of their dowries as well. 
 
 In The Housekeeper (La Castalda), the hand and 
 fortune of Pantalone, again a rich widower, is the 
 prize for the attainment of which an intriguing 
 menial sharpens her wits. In this play Pantalone's 
 daughters are married, and with his niece Rosaura to 
 cheer him with her pretty presence, he would have 
 
 15 A situation almost identical with this occurs in // Padre dl fa- 
 miglia. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 307 
 
 passed his remaining days in comfort at his luxurious 
 villa on the Brenta, had the minx not been bent upon 
 winning a dowry, as well as her rich uncle's permis- 
 sion to wed handsome Florindo, the lover of her 
 choice. 
 
 Rosaura, however, is not alone in her designs upon 
 Pantalone's wealth. Beatrice, a widow of the neigh- 
 bourhood, comes to his fine house attended by Lelio, 
 a fop, the one with a cap set for the uncle, the other 
 avowedly to wed the niece. But these fortune-hunt- 
 ers meet their match in Corallina, the housekeeper, 
 an artful female, who having fully made up her mind 
 to wed Pantalone herself, will brook no interference 
 in her plans. To be sure, she is loved by honest Fran- 
 giotto, Pantalone's maitre d' hot el, and has a liking 
 for the lad, but she is no Mirandolina, content to wed 
 in her station. Indeed, she is not even an honest 
 housekeeper, since she feeds Arlecchino and his im- 
 poverished master on the fat of her employer's table 
 and gives them his best wine to drink. 
 
 Having no real liking for his villa, or the fash- 
 ionable friends of his niece, poor Pantalone fain 
 would pass his evenings dozing in his armchair with 
 his comfortable red slippers on his weary old feet. 
 Longing for the days when his fat wife Eufemia sat 
 beside him, he pictures himself once more in a quiet 
 corner of his beloved Venice, while in his dreams a 
 good wife still knits at his elbow. As his dear Eu- 
 femia is dead, why not another, and who can cheer 
 his declining years better, he asks himself, than Co- 
 
308 GOLDONI 
 
 rallina, his housekeeper, who knows his whims and is 
 devotedly attached to him? Without more ado he 
 asks her to marry him, but Corallina is a clever hussy. 
 Knowing the widow Beatrice also has designs upon 
 her master and that his niece must be propitiated, 
 Corallina keeps the old dotard on tenter-hooks while 
 manoeuvring to make her triumph more complete. 
 In the meantime she thus soliloquizes : 
 
 So he is willing to marry me! If that is so, I will see that he 
 does it perfectly, and if I am to become the mistress of the house, 
 I will hereafter mend my ways. No longer will I deal generously 
 with everybody. In this house swindlers shall have no further 
 luck. 
 
 This threat is fulfilled, for, when hungry Arlec- 
 chino and his out-at-elbows master come again to 
 whiff the succulent odours of her kitchen, Corallina 
 slams the door in their faces. By making Pantalone 
 believe she is necessary to his comfort and by threat- 
 ening to leave his house if he marries any one else, 
 she forces him to declare his readiness to marry her, 
 with the artful widow Beatrice as a witness; while 
 into niece Rosaura's good graces she worms herself 
 by assisting her in a scheme to obtain her uncle's re- 
 luctant consent to her marriage with Florindo. 16 
 Thus all obstacles to Corallina's own designs are 
 swept away. Having been, as she says, a a faithful 
 servant," she will perhaps make Pantalone "a dis- 
 creet wife" whom "he will not repent of having hon- 
 
 16 A scene wherein Rosaura and Corallina change places, the mis- 
 tress playing the housekeeper and the housekeeper the mistress, in a 
 manner suggestive of Marivaux's Le Jeu de I' amour et du hazard. 
 
COMEDIES OF THE BOURGEOISIE 309 
 
 cured with his hand" ; still it is hard not to pity the 
 old fellow, once a power in the marts of Venice, now 
 the prey of a designing hussy. 
 
 Wearing the black skull-cap and flowing robe, the 
 long trousers and pointed slippers of his forefathers, 
 and guarding his ducats as sedulously as they, Panta- 
 lone ever follows devotedly in their footsteps, though 
 his children blush for his antecedents. Fain would 
 he plant the lioned banner of St. Mark wherever 
 the Turk, the Hungarian, the Greek, or the Genoese 
 has the temerity to oppose his beloved Venice, but, 
 like her, he is decrepit. His son is a spendthrift, his 
 daughters are perfumed zentildonne with cicisbei at 
 their beck and call. It is perhaps better that he 
 should pass his old age in his villa on the Brenta, with 
 Corallina his housekeeper-wife to nurse him and safe- 
 guard his strong box, than that the new-fangled ways 
 of his children should break his conservative old 
 heart. 
 
X 
 
 COMEDIES IN THE VENETIAN DIALECT 
 
 "A I "\HERE is a considerable number of Vene- 
 tian Plays in my Collection," says Goldoni 
 in his memoirs, "and perhaps it is these 
 that do me the greatest honour." In this terse sen- 
 tence he summarizes his dramatic work. These 
 Venetian Plays not only do him the greatest honour, 
 but they distinguish him as the pioneer naturalist in 
 the drama of the world ; the pioneer poet of a peo- 
 ple, too, no previous dramatist having painted the 
 life of the streets in colours so truthful nor voiced 
 plebeian sentiments upon the stage by faithfully 
 drawn characters of the proletariat, neither clownish 
 nor obscene. 
 
 Moliere was the first dramatic realist, and his char- 
 acters were in a large degree taken from life, but the 
 few peasants in his plays are clowns, and even his mid- 
 dle-class characters are not actually translated from 
 life to the stage, like many of Goldoni's. Moreover, 
 their sentiments are sometimes so tempered by their 
 author's avowed purpose to paint "ridiculous like- 
 nesses" of the vices of his times, that occasionally they 
 become thematic. Having no thesis to hold, and no 
 
 purpose to fulfil except "not to spoil nature," Gol- 
 
 310 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 311 
 
 doni presented life as it appeared to him. He spoiled 
 nature, however, whenever he transplanted some ex- 
 otic story to his native soil, or sought to emulate 
 Moliere. Only when he painted the life of Venice 
 did he become Venice's Gran Goldoni, in whose heart 
 throbbed the sentiments of her people. Many of his 
 comedies written in Tuscan present Venetian life, 
 and in a majority of these, Pantalone speaks the Vene- 
 tian dialect; yet when he discards the Tuscan lan- 
 guage and the conventional characters of the Impro- 
 vised Comedy entirely for the soft speech of Venice, 
 and the characters he met daily in the tortuous maze 
 of her busy streets, he becomes more truly the poet of 
 her people. 
 
 Although, at the time when he was the dramatist 
 of Imer's troupe, he wrote a few scenari in which 
 the characters spoke Venetian, the first of his Vene- 
 tian plays that truly does him honour is The Respecta- 
 ble Girl (La Putta onorata), a comedy .with a daugh- 
 ter of the people as its heroine, produced during his 
 first season in Venice as Medebac's playwright. "I 
 had seen at the San Luca Theatre," he says, "a piece 
 called The Girls of the Castle Quarter (Le Putte di 
 Castello), a popular comedy, the principal character 
 of which was a Venetian girl without talents, morals, 
 or address, and I gave one in the same style, but decent 
 and instructive, which I called The Respectable 
 Girl!' "In some of the scenes of this comedy," he 
 continues, "I painted the Venetian gondoliers from 
 nature in a manner exceedingly entertaining to those 
 
3 i2 GOLDONI 
 
 acquainted with the language and customs of my 
 country," and as the gondoliers of Venice were al- 
 lowed places in the theatre when the pit was not 
 crowded, "they were delighted," he adds, "to see 
 themselves put upon the stage, and I became their 
 friend." 
 
 In The Clever Woman he had presented a girl of 
 the people as his heroine ; but she does not talk the lan- 
 guage of the people, while her conventional actions 
 are lachrymose. Bettina, his "respectable girl," 
 however, is truly of the streets of Venice, a natural 
 character, who, to quote her author, is "new, agree- 
 able, and national," a little laundress, who, knowing 
 the pitfalls of a wicked city, knits prudently upon her 
 balcony, rather than risk her virtue in the enticing 
 street below. When she goes to the parish church 
 to be shriven, her shawl is drawn discreetly over her 
 glossy hair; though little white-stockinged feet gleam 
 coquettishly above her sandals, the ardency of her 
 dark eyes is hidden in the demureness of her down- 
 ward glance. Even Pasqualino, the gondolier's son 
 whom she loves, may not attend her abroad, nor pay 
 his court to her unaccompanied. "When people are 
 in love," she tells him, "they should not expose them- 
 selves to the temptation of being alone. It is true that 
 a girl may repair her fault by marriage, but she will 
 be pointed at none the less. There,' they will say, 
 4s the one who eloped with a lover.' ' Though her 
 southern blood flows warmly, Bettina knows well the 
 perils that surround her, for when Pasqualino's fa- 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 313 
 
 ther, good Menego Cainello, the gondolier, re- 
 proaches her for being engaged to his son without his 
 knowledge, she answers him in these sophisticated 
 words : 
 
 We poor girls try to marry honestly. If a young man seeks 
 our company and wants us for his wife, we are not obliged to 
 ask him first if his father will be pleased. Congratulate yourself, 
 Master Menego, that you have to deal with a respectable girl, for 
 another in my place might have favoured you with a grandson 
 before you had a daughter-in-law. 
 
 When the Marchese di Ripa Verde, a married 
 rake, is introduced surreptitiously into her chamber 
 by her trickish sister, Bettina spurns him in these pa- 
 triotic words : 
 
 And you have a wife, and you come into the house of an hon- 
 est girl! Who do you think I am? Some light-o'-love? We 
 are in Venice, I'd have you know. In Venice there is pleasure 
 for all who seek it; but to find it, you must go to the haunts by 
 the Piazza; you must go where the shutters are, and the cushions 
 are on the balconies, or straight to the houses of those who stand 
 in their doorways ; but in decent Venetian homes you cannot knock 
 at girls' doors so easily. When you foreigners, away from Venice, 
 talk about her women, you make one nosegay of them all; but 
 by the blood of Our Lady you are wrong. The girls of respecta- 
 ble families in this land have good sense, and they live in a stricter 
 way, perhaps, than is to be found in any other place. Venetian 
 girls are charming; but as to their virtues I agree with the one 
 who says: 
 
 Girls of Venice are a treasure, 
 Difficult to win indeed: 
 
 True as gold in fullest measure; 
 None their hearts will e'er mislead. 
 
 Rome vaunts the glory of Lucretia: 
 
 Yet virtue's found in our Venetia. 
 
3H GOLDONI 
 
 Bettina's story is conventional. A band of ruffians 
 bribed by the Marchese di Ripa Verde carry her off 
 by force to his house, where his pleasure-loving wife 
 is so touched by her sincerity that she helps her to 
 evade her wicked lord's clutches by exchanging 
 clothes with her, an artifice that enables Bettina, once 
 safe of the marchese's house, to escape in the carnival 
 crowd ; the rake's wife being caught by him and car- 
 ried to his chamber under the impression that she is 
 his inamorata. Bettina has a protector in the person 
 of Pantalone, a rich merchant who reveres her, and 
 would like to marry her, a desire in which he is 
 balked, however, by Pasqualino. This listless young 
 spark, beloved by Bettina, turns out to be Pantalone's 
 own child: the wife of Menego, the gondolier, in or- 
 der that her own son may inherit Pantalone's ducats, 
 having in the manner of Gilbert's dear little Butter- 
 cup, "mixed two babies up." 
 
 Although her story is trite, Bettina is no prude, but 
 rather a tender, simple girl of the people, whose vir- 
 tue is inspired by a worldly wisdom acquired in the 
 rough school of experience. Knowing the world, and 
 not ashamed of her knowledge; preferring the simple 
 betrothal ring of her Pasqualino to the diamonds of 
 the scented rake she scorns, this sturdy blond girl of 
 the streets is a child of nature, grown to fine woman- 
 hood in the free air of Venice; in short, the heroine 
 of a people, and not of an aristocracy or of a bour- 
 geoisie, such as all stage heroines before her had been. 
 Moreover, throughout this play a note of patriotism 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 315 
 
 sounds lustily, as in these stirring words uttered by 
 Menego, the gondolier, to Pasqualino, his supposed 
 son, who being of bourgeois blood, proves the immu- 
 tability of inheritance by preferring scrivening to the 
 oar: 
 
 Glad would I be to see thee at work, could I see thee stand- 
 ing on a gondola's poop; could I see thee at a regular ferry, or 
 in the service of some good master, following the calling of thy 
 father, thy grandfather, and thy entire family. What! dost thou 
 think, thou chit of a coxcomb, that the calling of a gondolier is 
 not honourable and respectable? Thou young donkey! In this 
 country we boatmen constitute a body of men, the like of which 
 is not to be found elsewhere in the world. We serve, it is true, 
 but ours is a noble service that does not soil the hands. We are 
 the most confidential secretaries of our masters, and no danger is 
 there of secrets leaking from our lips. We are better paid than 
 others, we maintain our families respectably; we have credit with 
 the tradesfolk; we are models of fidelity; we are famous for our 
 quips, and the readiness of our wit; above all, we are so loyal 
 and so warmly attached to our country that we would shed our 
 blood for her, and fight the entire world, if we heard our Venice 
 slandered, for she is the queen of the sea. 
 
 The Respectable Girl is an epic of the streets. The 
 wonder is that Goldoni should have written it at a 
 time when the nobles in his theatre spat at will from 
 their boxes upon the plebeians in the pit below; when 
 the people were only a herd of hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water, "on their feet when their betters 
 sat, at work when their betters slept," a common 
 herd of lackeys, porters, serving-maids, fishermen, 
 weavers, artisans, butchers, bakers, candlestick-mak- 
 ers, or what not, who were the butts of comedy till he 
 
3 i6 GOLDONI 
 
 made them its heroes and heroines. Yet this indus- 
 trious, gracious, spontaneous, humour-loving, pleas- 
 ure-loving herd were all sons and daughters of free 
 Venice, proud of her traditions and still believing in 
 her indomitable strength. Their excellence is apo- 
 theosized in the person of golden-haired Bettina, their 
 inflammable, ironical nature is revealed in the fol- 
 lowing scene where, two gondolas having collided 
 in a narrow canal, their gondoliers thus revile each 
 other : 
 
 NANE 
 
 Back water, so that I may go ahead. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 I be going ahead, too; back water a couple of strokes, thus 
 may we all pass. 
 
 NANE 
 
 I back water! Back water thyself; thou are headed down 
 stream. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 I have a load aboard, brother; I cannot do it. 
 
 NANE 
 
 I'll not budge either. I have three passengers aboard. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 If thou hast three, I have five. 
 
 NANE 
 
 Five or six, it is your place to make way for me. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Who says it is my place to move ? Thy skull is cracked. Canst 
 thou not see that should I back I'll have fifty boats beneath my 
 stern; and I must get through to the canal. Thou hast but three 
 boats to avoid. Clear the way. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 317 
 
 NANE 
 
 Come, Master Menego, make not a fool of thyself. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Wouldst thou teach me? me, who have been rowing in the re- 
 gattas these twenty years? 
 
 NANE 
 
 Even though thou dost row in the regattas, I know my calling, 
 and I be telling thee it is thy place to back water. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Out of the way; shut thy mouth! 
 
 NANE 
 
 If thou wert not an older man than I, I'd shut thy mouth with 
 my oar. 
 
 MENEGO 
 With that face? 
 
 NANE 
 
 Ay, with that face. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Out of my way, go row a lighter. 
 
 NANE 
 
 Out of my way, go row a slave-galley. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Art thou from Caverzere or Pelestrina? Oh, thou goose! 
 
 NANE 
 
 I'll bet that I'll throw thy cap in the water. 
 
 MENEGO 
 Look here, I must be cautious, because I have the master aboard. 
 
 NANE 
 
 I have the master aboard as well, and I wish to pass. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Dost thou think I know thee not? Thou art but a public 
 ferryman. 
 
 
3 i8 GOLDONI 
 
 NANE 
 
 What of it! Whosoever spends his money is the master. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Pray, art thou going to let me pass ? 
 
 NANE 
 
 Nay, I be going to bide here till the morrow. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Neither shall I budge. 
 
 NANE 
 
 I'll sink ere I back water. 
 
 MENEGO 
 I'll go to pieces ere I back water. 
 
 NANE 
 
 Back, thou low son of the lowest deuce in the pack. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Back thyself, thou son of a snail ! 
 
 NANE 
 
 I be nailed fast, thou canst see for thyself. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 And I drive my oar in to remain. (Sticks his oar into the 
 bottom of the canal.) 
 
 NANE 
 
 What sayest thou? That I must back? Not for ten sequins. 
 (He leans over to speak with the persons in his gondola.) If 
 you wish to go ashore, then go ashore, but here I bide. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 (Also speaking to those he has in the gondola.) Ay, but your 
 Excellency, my reputation be at stake; I wish not the rogue in that 
 old hulk to get the better of me. 
 
 NANE 
 
 What meanest thou by that old hulk, thou numskull? 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 What wilt thou wager I throw not thy rowlock overboard? 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 319 
 
 NANE 
 
 (To his passengers.) As I said, should you wish to go ashore, 
 you may go ashore, since I care not a fig. I be going to hold my 
 own with that regatta racer. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 (To his passengers.) Ay, your excellency, it be better for 
 you to land. I be not going to back even though by it I lose 
 my bread and butter. 
 
 NANE 
 
 See now! 'Cause of thee my travellers be going ashore. 
 Thou'lt pay me for it. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 I be the lad to give thee satisfaction. 
 
 NANE 
 
 It's as easy to chuck thee in the Canal as to laugh. 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 I be not scared of thee; nay, nor of ten like thee. 
 
 NANE 
 
 Oh! Oh! 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Oh, thou donkey! 
 
 NANE 
 
 Oh, thou swine! 
 
 MENEGO 
 
 Oh, thou bullock! 1 
 
 This is not buffoonery, but naturalism, for when- 
 ever two gondolas collide in a canaletto, the gondo- 
 liers of Venice still shower just such abuse upon each 
 other. Indeed, there is no buffoonery in The Re- 
 spectable Girl. True, the conventional masks, Panta- 
 lone, Arlecchino, and Brighella are among its dra- 
 matis persona, yet they indulge in no lazzl or other 
 
 1 Act II, Scene 21. 
 
320 GOLDONI 
 
 tomfoolery, this play being an earnest effort with a 
 moral purpose to maintain. As Ferdinando Galanti 
 points out, "It is a model of serious popular comedy, 
 whose very title hints of virtue." 2 Finally, it is the 
 first true flight of Goldoni's genius. 
 
 "I proposed a model to my spectators for their imi- 
 tation," he says of it, and so delighted was he with 
 Bettina, this "virtuous model," and the "traits of her 
 moral conduct," that! he presented the trials of her 
 wedded life in The Good Wife (La Buona moglie), 
 a comedy in which the same characters reappear. 
 Left to rock her baby alone, while her weak husband, 
 led astray by his wild foster-brother, squanders in 
 riotous living the thousand ducats Pantalone, his 
 father, has given him, Bettina, the good wife, is still 
 a girl of the people, unused to fine ways and servants. 
 Simple and tender, she is content to bide the hour 
 when Pasqualino wvll leave his mistresses and return 
 to her loving arms, an event that happens when he is 
 brought to his senses by seeing his foster-brother 
 killed in a tavern brawl. When the Marchese di 
 Ripa Verde, who sought her ruin, is arrested for 
 debt, Bettina offers his wife an asylum in her house. 
 Though she conserves her character in The Good 
 Wife, this play takes her from the lively streets of 
 Venice to a staid bourgeois parlour where she is ill at 
 ease; furthermore, it is a sequel, and like most sequels 
 lacking in the spontaneity of its original. 
 
 In Women's Tittle-Tattle (I Pettegolezzi delle 
 
 2 Carlo Goldoni e Venezia nel Secolo XVIII. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 321 
 
 donne) , Goldoni again turns for his inspiration to the 
 streets of Venice, the evils of the talebearing being his 
 topic. At the end of the arduous season when he 
 had boasted that he would write sixteen plays, he was 
 at a loss for a subject for the last comedy. "We were 
 at the last Sunday of the Carnival," he says, "and I 
 had not written a line of the last piece nor even im- 
 agined the subject for it." Only ten days remained 
 in which to accomplish the task he had set himself. 
 His own words shall tell the characteristic manner of 
 its fulfilment: 
 
 I left my house that day, and, seeking distraction, went to 
 the Square of Saint Mark. I looked about 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 met, un- 
 der the arcade of the clock, a man with whom I was instantly 
 struck, and who provided me with the subject of which I was 
 in quest. This was an old Armenian, ill-dressed, very dirty, 
 and with a long beard, who went about the streets of Venice 
 selling the dried fruits of his country, which he called Abagigi. 
 This man, who was to be seen everywhere, and whom I had 
 myself frequently met, was so well known and so much de- 
 spised, that when any one wished to tease a girl seeking a hus- 
 band, he proposed to her Abagigi. Nothing more was neces- 
 sary to send me home satisfied. I entered my house, shut 
 myself up in my closet, and began a popular comedy, which I 
 called / Pettegolezzi. 
 
 Although written in dialect, Women's Tittle-Tattle 
 does not picture the streets of Venice so truly as The 
 Respectable Girl; moreover, the story it relates of a 
 lover who breaks his troth because a spiteful woman 
 sets evil tongues a-wagging, is a theatric story more 
 
322 GOLDONI 
 
 fitting the Improvised Comedy Goldoni was seeking 
 to supplant than the National Comedy he was en- 
 deavouring to create. Its humour, however, is at 
 moments delicious, the scenes in which gossip flies 
 from lip to lip being as sparkling as any Goldoni has 
 written ; yet he makes no more than what he terms 
 "the knot of the piece" of Abagigi the Armenian ped- 
 lar. Nevertheless it contains naturalistic sketches, 
 quite worthy its author, such as the following por- 
 trayal of Merlino, a street-Arab from Naples, whom 
 Gate, a laundress, tries to induce to carry her basket: 
 
 GATE 
 
 Come, lad, bear these clothes. Prithee make haste. 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Oh, how I hate this work! 
 
 GATE 
 
 In this land if thou wouldst eat thou must work. 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Rather would I live by my wits, or beg. 
 
 GATE 
 
 In truth, if thou shouldst ask charity, all will chase thee 
 away. Go to work, they'll say, thou rascal, go to work. 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Oh, I know my calling. Prithee. Alms for a poor man 
 who is maimed. (Acts the one-armed man.) Be charitable 
 to a poor cripple. (Acts the cripple.) Charity for a poor blind 
 man. (Acts the blind man.) Have pity on a poor labourer, who 
 fell from a scaffold, and can work no more. (Moves about on 
 his hind-quarters and his hands.) 
 
 GATE 
 
 I say, but thou art a flower of virtue. From what land art 
 thou? 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 323 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 I be a most unworthy Neapolitan beggar. 
 
 GATE 
 
 (Aside.) Oh, I be n't going to let that lad carry my bas- 
 ket. He be a little rogue who may rob me. (To Merlino.) 
 Here's a penny. Now go about thy business. 
 
 MERLINO 
 Dost wish me no longer? 
 
 GATE 
 
 Nay, I be wishing nothing more. 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Cursed be she who mothered thee; mayest thou grow as many 
 ulcers as there be stitches in the clothes of this basket! Cursed be 
 thy father, thy mother, and all thy generation! 
 
 GATE 
 
 Say what thou wilt. It's all right, since I don't understand 
 thy dialect. 3 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Look, now, look now, someone's wishing thee. 
 
 GATE 
 
 What? 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Mayst thou fall dead at once. Someone's called thee. 
 
 GATE 
 Who's called me? 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 A lady. Yonder, yonder, a lady. 
 
 GATE 
 
 Where? I see her not. Be that she? (She turns around, 
 and Merlino steals a shirt.) 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Creature of misery! 
 
 3 Merlino speaks Neapolitan in the original. 
 
324 GOLDONI 
 
 GATE 
 
 What the devil sayest thou, thou accursed little parrot? 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Mayst thou be killed! 
 
 GATE 
 
 What didst thou say? 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 Didst thou not understand me? 
 
 CATE 
 Nay, I did not understand. 
 
 MERLINO 
 
 If thou didst not understand, then art thou 
 Daughter of a cuckold's mate. 
 Heaven send thee with its hate 
 Boils a thousand as thy fate! 
 
 (Exit singing and dancing.) 4 
 
 In The Jealous Women (Le Donne gelose) Gol- 
 doni mounts the social ladder a rung or two, the lower 
 bourgeoisie, a grade of society prosperous, yet still 
 of the people, being here portrayed. He depicts, 
 too, the Latin idolatry of the Goddess of Chance, 
 Siora Lucrezia, a confectioner's widow, who is the 
 principal character of this comedy, being a profes- 
 sional sibyl who pretends to foretell the lucky num- 
 bers of the draw by omens and dreams. She is 
 shrewd, however, for she is a professional usurer, as 
 well, who lends money to her unlucky clients, and 
 rents the garments they leave in pawn to her as cos- 
 tumes for the Carnival, a multiplicity of vocations 
 that entangles her with the jealous women who give 
 
 *Act I, Scene 5. 
 
THE FORTUNE-TELLER 
 
 National Gallery, London 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 325 
 
 the play its name, the clothes being recognized, and 
 the husbands who patronize her being tracked to her 
 house by their wives. Taunted by these jealous 
 women with being the drab who has debauched their 
 lords, Lucrezia draws a stiletto. "If I carry it," she 
 says, as her enemies recoil, "I do not carry it to do 
 harm to any one ; but neither you nor any one shall 
 trample on me, and by Heaven, if you be not careful, 
 I will show you who I am." Yet she is not forced 
 to commit murder in defence of her honour; since on 
 winning the first prize in the lottery, she renounces 
 her multifarious calling, her male clients returning 
 to the bosoms of their respective families. Its dra- 
 matic material being of so diaphanous a texture, The 
 Jealous Women cannot be numbered among Gol- 
 doni's best comedies ; yet in characterization it is not 
 deficient, Lucrezia, the heroine, being a naturalistic 
 study of a woman of the people, shrewd, supersti- 
 tious, and impetuous, yet so tenacious of her fair name 
 as to be ready to shed blood for its sake. 
 
 Another Venetian comedy in which Goldoni de- 
 picts the lower bourgeoisie is The Good Mother (La 
 Buona madre] , a play in which he is even less dra- 
 matic, because too insistently moral, it being, as he 
 acknowledges, "a decent play that failed decently." 
 As Signor Galanti says pithily, "Once more the public 
 gave the author to understand that ethics on the stage 
 is a diet that pleases little." 5 
 
 Although Goldoni failed in The Jealous Women 
 
 5 Op. cit. 
 
326 GOLDONI 
 
 and The Good Mother to depict tradesfolk and their 
 families with unerring skill, he made full amends in 
 The Boors (I Rusteghi) a masterpiece in which he 
 portrays the intolerance of the Venetian middle class, 
 a hide-bound order, puritanical, almost, in its tradi- 
 tions. 
 
 The Domestic Tyrants, however, is a more fitting 
 title than the one he has chosen for this consummate 
 piece of stage naturalism, his boors being intractable 
 family autocrats, whose words spell law in their re- 
 spective households. Three of these tyrants of the 
 hearth Lunardo, Simon, and Canciano have 
 wives, Maurizio, the fourth, being a widower with 
 an only son whom he has agreed to marry to Lu- 
 nardo's daughter by a former bed. Lunardo, the 
 most boorish of them, rules his family with a hand so 
 high that no guests, except of his choosing, cross his 
 threshold. To his wife he denies even the single day 
 of carnival gaiety commonly allowed to women of 
 her order, and when he barters his daughter's hand, 
 he refuses to disclose the name of the husband he has 
 chosen for her, much less grant her a sight of him. 
 His masculine selfishness is admirably characterized 
 when he thus expresses his contempt for "women- 
 folk" to his crony Maurizio, after the marriage of 
 their children has been arranged by them. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 They say we know not how to enjoy ourselves. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 
 Poor creatures! Are they able to see into our hearts? Da 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 327 
 
 they suppose there is no other society but theirs? Ah, my 
 friend, it is a real joy to be able to say I have enough ; that I want 
 for nothing, and that if needs be I can lay my hands on a hun- 
 dred sequins. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Ay, sir, and live well, on fat capon, tender chickens, and a 
 fine loin of veal. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 And all good and cheap because you pay as you go. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 And all in your own house without squabble or vexation. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 And without any one to peck at you. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 And without any one knowing your affairs. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 And our own masters. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 And not ruled by our wives. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 
 And our children behaving like children! 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 That is the way my daughter is reared. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 My son is a jewel, too; no danger of his wasting a farthing. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 My daughter knows how to do everything. At home she 
 has had to do everything, even to washing the dishes. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 
 And because I do not wish my son to spoon with the house- 
 maids, I have brought him up to darn his socks and patch his 
 own breeches. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 Good! (Laughing.) 
 
328 GOLDONI 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 
 Yes, indeed. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Come, we'll arrange this marriage quickly. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 Whenever you wish, my friend. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 I expect you to sup with me to-night. You know I told you 
 so. Four sweetbreads. We'll prove their merits! Ah, but 
 how fat they are ! 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 
 We'll eat them. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 And have a merry time. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 
 And be happy. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 And then they'll call us brutes. 
 
 MAURIZIO 
 
 Pooh! 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 The hussies. 6 
 
 These selfish old codgers are the bone and sinew 
 of commercial Venice. Their faces are well known 
 on the Rialto; their merchantmen ply between the 
 Adriatic and the Mediterranean, ay, even as far as 
 Sinope and Trebizond ; yet their hearts are hard and 
 cold as the ducats in their strong boxes, their minds 
 as narrow as the streets they tread. Witness this 
 scene between Lunardo and Simon, another of these 
 domestic tyrants Goldoni has painted with a surpass- 
 ing touch : 
 
 6 Act I, Scene 5. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 329 
 
 SIMON 
 
 You are right, my old friend, there are no young men now 
 such as there were in our day. You remember that we did no 
 more and no less than our fathers wished. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 I had two married sisters. I don't believe I saw them ten 
 times in my whole life. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 I hardly ever spoke even to mother. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Even to this day I scarcely know what an opera or a comedy 
 is like. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 They took me to the opera by force, one evening, and I dozed 
 throughout it. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 When I was a stripling, my father said unto me: "Wouldst 
 thou rather see the magic-lantern, or have twopence?" I chose 
 the twopence. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 And I ! To save my tips was my habit ; and from the farthings 
 I filched, I acquired a hundred ducats which I invested at four 
 per cent. Thus I have four ducats more of interest, and when 
 I draw those four ducats it gives me a joy so great that I can- 
 not describe it; not because I am greedy for those four ducats, 
 but because I may say to myself, all this I earned when I was 
 a lad. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Show me to-day one who would do thus; they throw money 
 away, so to speak, by shovelfuls. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 I would not mind the money they throw away, but they 
 throw themselves away in a hundred ways. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 And the cause of it all is liberty. 
 
330 GOLDONI 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Ay, sir: so soon as they know how to put on their breeches 
 they begin to stray. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 And know you who teaches them? Their mothers! 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Say no more. I have heard things that make my hair stand 
 on end. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Ay, sir, and this is what they say: "Poor little lad, let him 
 regale himself. Poor little thing! Would you have him in 
 the dumps?" If visitors come they call to him, "Come here, 
 my child. His complexion, Madam Lucrezia, does it not make 
 you wish to kiss him? If you but knew how astute he is. 
 Sing thy little song, dear; recite thy piece of Trufaldino's. I 
 should not say it, yet can he do anything dance, play at cards, 
 and write sonnets. Do you know, he is in love. He says he 
 wishes to get married. He is somewhat pert. Yet all in good 
 time, he is but a child, some day he will sensible be. Darling, 
 come here, joy of my life ! Give Madam Lucrezia a kiss." Bah ! 
 a shame, a disgrace ! The senseless women ! 7 
 
 This boor of Venice is thoroughly respected in the 
 marts of trade, but by his own hearthstone he is the 
 hectoring tyrant who thus admonishes Margarita, his 
 wife, and Lucietta, his daughter, when he catches 
 them decked out in finery : 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 (To Margarita.') What means this, madam? Are you going 
 to the ball? 
 
 MARGARITA 
 
 There now, just look at him. I dress myself up once in the 
 year, and he grumbles. Are you afraid that you are coming to 
 ruin? 
 
 7 Act II, Scene 5. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 331 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 It matters not to me, let me tell you, if you should wear out 
 even one frock a week. Thank Heaven, I am not a man who 
 counts pennies. So much as a hundred ducats may I spend; yet 
 not on such tomfoolery. What would you have these gentlemen 
 who are coming to my house say? That you are a dressed-up 
 manikin. No laughing-stock do I wish to be. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 (Aside.) Really glad am I that he scolds her. 
 
 MARGARITA 
 
 What think you the other women will wear? One shoe and 
 one slipper? 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 They may wear what pleases them. Such mincing airs have 
 not been seen in my house, and you shall not begin them now, and 
 you shall not make me a butt for ridicule. Do you understand ? 8 
 
 This tyrant meets his match, however, in a clever 
 woman, for Canciano, one of his bosom-friends, has a 
 wife, by name Felice, who not only manages to lead 
 her own grumbling husband by the nose, but Lu- 
 nardo also, she being endowed with common sense as 
 well as with a will that knows its way. Getting wind 
 of the proposed marriage between Maurizio's son 
 and Lunardo's daughter, Felice dresses the young 
 man up in a woman's domino, and with Count Ric- 
 cardo, her own cicisbeo, as his escort, introduces him 
 within the austere precincts of Lunardo's dwelling, 
 where he falls in love with Lucietta, his betrothed, 
 whom hitherto he had neither seen nor known. Be- 
 ing caught in their clandestine love-making by their 
 respective fathers, Filipeto is ordered home, and Lu- 
 
 8 Act II, Scene 3. 
 
332 GOLDONI 
 
 cietta locked in her room; whereupon Lunardo and 
 his cronies express their views of the scandal in this 
 despotic, albeit masculine way: 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 It is a question of honour ; it is a question, to come to the point, 
 of my family's reputation. A man of my standing! What will 
 you say of me ? What will you say of Lunardo Crozzola ? 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Calm yourself, my dear man. It is not your fault. The 
 women are to blame. Punish them, and all the world will ap- 
 plaud you. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 Ay, verily, we must make an example of them. We must 
 humble the pride of those arrogant women, and teach men how 
 to punish them. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Let them call us boors. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 Let them call us savages. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 My spouse is at the bottom of it all. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Punish her. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 It is that rattlepate who tags after her. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 Humble her. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 (To Canciano.) And your spouse is a good third. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 I will punish her. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 (To Simon.) And yours is also in the pack. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 333 
 
 SIMON 
 
 She, too, shall pay for it. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 My dear friends, let us talk it over; let us consult together. 
 The way things are now, what shall we do with them? As 
 for the girl, that is easy; I have thought about her, and have made 
 up my mind. In the first place, no more question of matrimony. 
 She shall talk no more about getting married. I will send her 
 to be locked up in some place, far from the world, between four 
 walls, and that's the end of her. 9 But how are we to chastise our 
 wives? Tell me your opinion. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 To confess the truth, I am in considerable doubt. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 We might clap them, too, into a retreat between four walls, 
 and thus get out of the difficulty! 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 That, let me tell you, would be a punishment for us rather 
 than for them. We should be compelled to expend money, pay 
 their keep, send them frocks that are at least neat, and howsoever 
 much of a retreat it might be, there would always be more diver- 
 sion and more liberty there than in our homes. Do I present it 
 distinctly ? 
 
 SIMON 
 
 You could not present it more distinctly, especially as regards 
 you and me who do not give them a loose rein, as does my friend 
 Canciano. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 What would you have me say? That you are right? We 
 might keep them in the house locked up in a room ; take them with 
 us now and then to some entertainment ; then lock them up again, 
 and not let them see any one, or talk to any one. 
 
 9 Goldoni was forbidden by the laws of Venice to use the word 
 convent. 
 
334 GOLDONI 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Lock the women up without letting them talk to any one ! That 
 is a punishment that would kill them in less than three days. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 So much the better. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 But who is the man that wishes to play the jailer? And more- 
 over, if her kinsfolk should discover it, there would be the devil 
 to pay. They would have half the world after you. They would 
 make you release her, and furthermore, they would call you a 
 bear, a ruffian, a dog. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 And when you have yielded either through love or duty, they 
 would get the upper hand, and you would no longer be able to lift 
 your voice. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 Precisely what my spouse has done with me. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 The right method, to tell the truth, would be to use a stick. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Ay, upon my word; and let the world talk. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 But if they rebel against us? 
 
 SIMON 
 
 That might happen, you know. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 I know whereof I speak. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 In that case we should be in a pretty bad pickle. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Besides, don't you know there are men who beat their wives. 
 But do you imagine that they can subdue them in that way? 
 Zounds! They are worse than ever; they act out of spite. Un- 
 less you kill them, there is no remedy. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 335 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Kill them! That's going too far. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 You are right ; since after all, do what you will, you cannot do 
 without women. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Yet would it not be a joy to have a good, quiet, obedient spouse? 
 Would it not be a comfort? 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Once I knew what it was like. My first, poor dear, was*a lamb. 
 My present is a basilisk. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 And mine! She must have everything her own way. 
 
 SIMON 
 And I protest, raise a tumult, and accomplish naught. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 All that is vexing; but still it may be borne. But in my pre- 
 sent predicament, to tell the truth, much is at stake. I would like 
 to decide, yet do not know what should be done. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Despatch her to her kinsfolk. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Ay, and get myself laughed at! 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 Send her away; force her to remain in the country. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Still worse! She would squander my income in less than a 
 week. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Have her reasoned with; find somebody who can bring her to 
 her senses. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Bah! She will listen to no one. 
 
336 GOLDONI 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 Try putting her wardrobe, her jewels, under lock and key; keep 
 her down; humiliate her. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 That I have tried; yet she acts worse than ever. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 I understand; this is the way to do, my friend. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 How? 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Enjoy her as she is. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 I, too, have thought that to be the only remedy. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 Yes, I saw that some time ago. I saw, too, that, being what 
 she is, it's the only way. I had made up my mind to stom- 
 ach her, yet what she had done to me now is too much. Ruin 
 a daughter in such a manner. Permit a lover to enter the 
 house! True, I had destined him to be her lord, yet, to tell the 
 truth, what knew she of my intentions? Some inkling did I give 
 her regarding the disposal of her hand, yet was it not possible 
 that I should change my mind ? Was it not possible that we might 
 not come to an agreement? Might it not have been deferred for 
 months, ay, even years? And now she introduces him into my 
 house! masked! clandestinely! Arranges for them to see each 
 other! converse together! A daughter of mine! an unsoiled 
 dove! I cannot control myself. I shall humble her, I tell you. 
 I should punish her, even if I felt certain it meant sudden ruin. 
 
 SIMON 
 
 Mistress Felice is at the bottom of it. 
 
 LUNARDO 
 
 (To Canciano.) Ay, that daft wife of yours is at the bottom 
 of it. 
 
 CANCIANO 
 
 You are right. My wife shall pay for it. 10 
 10 Act III, Scene i. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 337 
 
 While these surly husbands are thus giving vent 
 to their intolerant sentiments they are confronted 
 by Felice, who confounds them with outspoken truth 
 about their contumacy. So pitilessly does she lash 
 them with her woman's tongue that Lunardo, brought 
 to a realization of his churlishness, consents to the 
 marriage of his daughter to Filipeto. The following 
 shaft aimed by Felice at Lunardo and his cronies 
 bears a moral which Goldoni says "is not extremely 
 needed, there being scarcely any adorers of the an- 
 cient simplicity," yet this is manifestly a sop to the 
 feelings of the boors his satire had flayed, their type 
 being perennial : 
 
 Don't you see? This boorishness, this uncouthness that sur- 
 rounds you, is the cause of all the turbulance this day has brought 
 forth, and it is going to make you all three of you do you hear? 
 I am speaking to all three of you ! it is going to make you rabid, 
 hateful, discontented, and universally ridiculed. Be a little more 
 civil, tractable, humane. Examine the actions of your wives, and 
 so long as they are honest, yield a little, endure a little. ... As 
 for the finery, so long as they do not run after every fashion, so 
 long as the family is not brought to ruin, neatness is both fitting 
 and becoming. In brief, if you wish to live quietly, if you wish 
 to be on good terms with your wives, act like men, not like sav- 
 ages; rule, but do not tyrannize, and love if you would be loved. 
 
 "In The Boors there is nothing false," as Signer 
 Molmenti so aptly puts it; n for, slight though it is in 
 dramatic texture, it is a masterpiece of naturalism 
 wherein is depicted supremely well the strait- 
 laced burgher of Venice with a mind as hermetically 
 
 11 Carlo Goldoni. 
 
338 GOLDONI 
 
 closed to the outside world as the house in which he 
 immures his wife and daughter, a heart as unyield- 
 ing as the hand with which he drives his hard bar- 
 gains. The only things he cares a whit to know 
 are the prices current upon the Rialto, or the rates 
 of exchange. His name is not inscribed in the 
 Golden Book of Patricians ; yet in his strong-box no 
 mean proportion of the gold of Venice is locked 
 against the hapless day when he, being dead and gone, 
 his daughter, wedded to the son of his crony, will 
 spend a hundred thousand lire of his parings for some 
 diamond shoe-buckles with which to dazzle a scented 
 cicisbeo. He is a burgher of the old school, a mer- 
 chant whose sharpness and cupidity have helped to 
 amass the wealth of Venice and make her the envied 
 and hated of the world, and Goldoni has portrayed 
 him with a touch at once ruthless and sure. 
 
 Following the production of The Boors, Gas- 
 paro Gozzi, the brother of Goldoni's bitter rival, 
 Carlo Gozzi, published in the Gazzetta Veneta 12 an 
 appreciative yet critical review of this, perhaps the 
 most naturalistic of all Goldoni's plays : "All the in- 
 cidents in this comedy are arranged," he says, "with 
 so exquisite a sense of proportion, and all are brought 
 to view and set in motion so artistically, that we may 
 say: 
 
 "Here men erect or bent, men quick or slow, 
 
 In views dissolving, pass beneath our gaze. 
 Of bodies long or short, we see each phase 
 
 Move 'neath the ray, whose penetrating glow 
 
 12 Number V. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 339 
 
 Illuminates, betimes, the shadowy cloak 
 Men craftily unto their aid invoke. 
 
 "Precisely as a sunbeam," adds Gozzi, "penetrating 
 through a window chink that seemed both void and 
 empty, displays to you a lengthening streak of mi- 
 nute particles in perpetual motion, so does the genius 
 of the author illumine and make visible a thousand 
 minute circumstances which you could not have im- 
 agined, much less have seen." Turning from this 
 poetical effusiveness to discriminating prose, this con- 
 temporary critic declares that "the situations bud and 
 bloom readily of their own accord," in this comedy, 
 and that "wit and homely speech sparkle continually." 
 Yet Gozzi's criticism, so generous for a contempo- 
 rary, overlooked one penetrating element of Gol- 
 doni's comedy that we of to-day may appreciate more 
 readily than he: namely, the conflict between the old, 
 conservative traditions of Venice, and the modern 
 luxury that was corrupting her a presage as it were 
 of her downfall. Gozzi failed, also, in doing jus- 
 tice to the admirable characterization of Lunardo, 
 Goldoni's four boors being not as he declared "di- 
 vers aspects of the same character," but rather di- 
 verse characters made outwardly similar by the same 
 traditions. Among them, Lunardo, the most ob- 
 stinate, stands forth as a portrayal rivalled in modern 
 comedy only by a few of Moliere's immortal charac- 
 ters. 13 
 
 13 / Quattro rusteghi, an opera taken from Goldoni's play (book by 
 Giuseppe Pizzolato, music by Ermanno Wolf -Ferrari), was produced 
 at Munich in 1906. 
 
340 GOLDONI 
 
 Another dialect comedy in which Goldoni treats 
 domestic tyranny is Master Theodore the Grumbler; 
 or, The Disagreeable Old Man (Sior Todero Bron- 
 talon o II vecchio fastidioso), a play whose cantan- 
 kerous protagonist is a boor without the humanity of 
 Lunardo, a bear without the beneficence of Ge- 
 ronte ; 14 for although he is drawn from life, as Gol- 
 doni declares, Master Theodore is a very theatrical 
 personage, who storms and growls, and even locks up 
 the coffee and sugar to keep them out of the reach of 
 his daughter-in-law. In brief, he is a person quite 
 too theatrically disagreeable to be of lasting interest. 
 
 "There was once an old man in Venice called 
 Theodore," Goldoni tells us, "the most rude, ill-na- 
 tured and unpleasant man in the world, and he left 
 behind him so consummate a reputation that every 
 grumbler in Venice is called Theodore the Grum- 
 bler." "I knew one of those ill-natured old men," 
 he goes on to say, "and I wished to avenge his daugh- 
 ter-in-law, a worthy woman whom I saw frequently; 
 so I drew in the same picture the portraits of her 
 husband and her father-in-law." The lady was in the 
 secret, and when the play was given, the irascible 
 father and his meek son were both recognized, so 
 they left the theatre, "the one furious, the other hu- 
 miliated." And the play proved such a success that 
 its run continued until the close of the season. In 
 spite of the fact that the qualities which are the charm 
 of Goldoni seem almost entirely lacking in this play, 
 
 14 The title role of Le Bourru bienfalsant. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 341 
 
 "it is among the most popular of our poet's come- 
 dies," Signor Galanti assures us, though why he draws 
 this conclusion it is difficult to divine. Indeed, it is 
 easier to share with Signor Molmenti a "certain re- 
 pugnance" he feels for Sior Todero. 15 
 
 The merits of The New House (La Casa nova) 
 need excite, however, no such difference of opinion, 
 this comedy presenting as natural a picture of life as 
 any Goldoni has drawn. Indeed, were it not lacking 
 in character studies as humorous as Lunardo and 
 his cronies, it would take rank as Goldoni's Venetian 
 masterpiece, its plot, being more deftly woven than 
 that of The Boors, and the lesson it teaches farther 
 reaching. In The Boors the author pictures fathers 
 as stern as those of New England in the days of its 
 most rigorous puritanism, and makes it reasonable 
 to expect that when these austere conservatives are 
 dead and gone the ducats in their strong-boxes will 
 be scattered far and wide by children too narrowly 
 reared to withstand the temptation of a city so cosmo- 
 politan as Venice. In The New House Goldoni por- 
 trays the weak son of just such a Puritan as Lunardo, 
 squandering his moderate inheritance to satisfy the 
 caprices of the domineering little upstart he has mar- 
 ried. Being a poor girl of common breeding, Ce- 
 cilia, the wife, has had her head turned completely 
 by what she believes is a rich marriage, Anzoletto, 
 her husband, in order to win her love, having made an 
 ostentatious show of wealth he does not possess. 
 
 15 Carlo Goldoni. 
 
342 GOLDONI 
 
 The New House, which gives the comedy its name, 
 is a sumptuous dwelling Anzoletto has leased to re- 
 ceive his bride, though he is without the means to 
 pay either the rent or the artisans he has employed 
 to renovate it. When the curtain rises a group of 
 upholsterers, painters, and carpenters, working as 
 inertly as modern trades-unionists, grumble about 
 their unpaid wages; meanwhile Lucietta, a gossipy 
 housemaid, tears to shreds for their benefit the char- 
 acter of her new mistress, "an overweening snob," 
 as she calls her, who having wasted a fortune upon 
 "household goods, wages, and new furniture," is 
 "still dissatisfied." With a sister to marry and a for- 
 tune squandered, her uxorious young master is "re- 
 duced to extremities," she avers, the rent of the new 
 house being unpaid, as well as the six months' wages 
 due herself. This state of affairs causes the spokes- 
 man of the workers to threaten a strike, until Anzo- 
 letto, the master of the house, cajoles him into wait- 
 ing till the morrow for the money without which, in 
 this artisan's words, "even the blind will not sing." 
 
 Menechina, the unmarried sister, whose dowry 
 Anzoletto has dissipated to gratify his wife's whims, 
 is enamoured of Lorenzino, the young cousin of 
 Checca, a married woman who dwells on the floor 
 above, the word casa of this comedy's title signifying 
 "apartment" rather than "house" in the literal sense. 
 Having lost her heart to Lorenzino while watching 
 him pace back and forth beneath her window, Me- 
 nechina's ill will toward her new sister-in-law is en- 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 343 
 
 hanced tenfold when she is forced by Anzoletto, her 
 brother, to move to a court-yard room in order that his 
 wife may have the sun in hers. 
 
 When Cecilia, though a bride of only fifteen days' 
 standing, comes attended by a cicisbeo to view the new 
 house, her common little nose turns haughtily up- 
 ward at everything she finds there, even to Lucietta, 
 the housemaid, whom she discharges. Lucietta ap- 
 peals to Menechina, who upholds her, whereupon a 
 pretty kettle of feminine fish is set a-stewing which 
 Anzoletto strives to cool. His creditors press their 
 claims meanwhile, forcing him to the humiliating ex- 
 tremity of appealing in vain to his wife's cicisbeo for 
 a loan. In the midst of this family imbroglio, 
 Checca, the occupant of the floor above, comes with 
 Rosina, her sister, to call upon the new tenants, only 
 to be refused the door because she tactlessly asks to 
 see both the warring ladies of the house, each of 
 whom feels that the honour of this visit should have 
 been paid to her alone. 
 
 Humiliated by this affront, Checca and Rosina 
 rake the arrogant bride over the coals of their anger, 
 and tarnish the character of the girl their cousin Lo- 
 renzino loves, in this thoroughly feminine way: 
 
 CHECCA 
 Either they are boors, or they are stuck-up. 
 
 ROSINA 
 
 Whatever they are, they do not appear to me to be boors, since 
 it is evident that they go about. 
 
344 GOLDONI 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 Why, the bride has been married only a fortnight, and already 
 she has her cavalier to serve her. 
 
 ROSINA 
 
 And the girl, hasn't she coquetted all her life? 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 According to our cousin Lorenzino, when out of doors she 
 wears her veil down to her waist, but in the house or on the bal- 
 cony she has no scruples about being seen. 
 
 ROSINA 
 
 Do not folks say that they spooned together all day and all 
 night? 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 La! what girls they are! Listen, sister, do not follow the ex- 
 ample of these flighty creatures. I can say that my husband was 
 the first admirer who ever addressed me. Remember that our 
 mother reared us and that now you are living with me. 
 
 ROSINA 
 
 Sister, dear, no need is there for you to preach me such a ser- 
 mon. You know the sort of girl I am. 
 
 CHECCA 
 Why do you think those miserable hussies refused to receive us? 
 
 ROSINA 
 
 I will tell you. It may be because they have just moved into 
 their new house; that it is not set to rights, that it is not fur- 
 nished yet, and on that account they did not wish anybody around. 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 Truly, I believe you are right. It must needs be that they're 
 stuck-up for a good reason. In fact, to confess the truth, we have 
 been too hasty in calling; better had we waited until to-morrow; 
 yet I had such a curiosity to see this bride near by that I could not 
 restrain myself. 16 
 
 In spite of her resentfulness for the snub admin- 
 
 16 Act II, Scene i. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 345 
 
 istered to her, Checca, a kind-hearted soul, grants 
 Menechina and Lorenzino a tryst in her apartment. 
 In the midst of their love-making, Cecilia, the bride, 
 comes to make amends for her rudeness, the lover 
 meanwhile hiding in an adjoining closet. First 
 quarrelling shrewishly with Menechina, her sister- 
 in-law, Cecilia then lords it over her hostess in this 
 way, so characteristic of the newly rich of our own, 
 as well as of Goldoni's day: 
 
 CECILIA 
 
 How do you amuse yourselves? Do you go to the play? Do 
 you go in society? 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 I scarcely know what to say. When my husband is in Venice 
 we go once or twice in the week to the opera, or to the play, but 
 now that he is absent we remain at home. 
 
 CECILIA 
 
 If you wish you may have the keys to any of my boxes. I have 
 them at all the theatres, you know. My gondola, too, is at your 
 disposal, if you wish it. 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 Many thanks. To confess the truth, when my husband is not 
 at home I go nowhere. 
 
 CECILIA 
 
 And when your husband is at home, do you wish him to be al- 
 ways with you? 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 If he so choose. 
 
 CECILIA 
 
 And you put him to that amount of trouble, to that amount of 
 bondage ? Poor man, you should take pity on your husband. In- 
 duce him to attend to his own affairs. Permit him to go where 
 he pleases. May you not go to the play without your husband? 
 
346 GOLDONI 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 Oh, I do not mind. When my husband cannot go I remain at 
 home. 
 
 CECILIA 
 
 (Aside.) Oh, what a fool! And what, pray, do you do at 
 home? Do you play cards? 
 
 CHECCA 
 Sometimes we amuse ourselves. 
 
 CECILIA 
 
 And what do you play? 
 
 CHECCA 
 
 Tresette, cotecchio, mercante in fiera. ir 
 
 CECILIA 
 
 La! I have no use for such games. I like faro, but for low 
 stakes, mind you, a bank of eight or ten sequins, no more. 18 You 
 should attend one of our routs. Only persons a la mode, I do 
 not mind saying. Never are we less than fourteen or sixteen, 
 and almost every evening we eat something, either a brace or two 
 of woodcock, a smoked tongue, some truffles, or some delicious 
 fish or other; moreover, there is our wine cellar, of which no one 
 need be ashamed ; it is something exquisite. 19 
 
 Evicted from her new house when doting Anzo- 
 letto is unable to borrow from false friends, Cecilia, 
 the bride who utters this vulgar cock-a-hoop, becomes 
 a contrite and loving wife, her husband's surly uncle, 
 whose heart has a tender spot in it, being the deus 
 ex machina to whom she humbly appeals in her ad- 
 versity. Kind-hearted Checca, too, wins this uncle's 
 promise of a dowry for Menechina; so the story ends 
 
 17 The first was a four-handed round game; in the second, the one 
 who lost most points, won, making it somewhat like "hearts." The third 
 was played with two packs of cards and by an indefinite number of 
 players. 
 
 18 A Venetian sequin was worth about $2.50. 19 Act II, Scene 9. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 347 
 
 happily, Cecilia's too sudden metamorphosis from an 
 ill-bred snob to an abject penitent being the one dis- 
 cordant note in an otherwise masterly comedy. 
 
 Once more Goldoni had painted life from the life 
 about him. "I had changed my lodgings," he says, 
 "and as I was always looking for subjects of comedy, 
 I found one in the embarrassments of my removal. 
 I did not, however, derive the subject from my own 
 predicament, but the circumstances suggested the 
 title, and my imagination did the rest." In the pref- 
 ace he boasts that if he had written but this single 
 comedy, it would have been sufficient to secure for 
 him the reputation he had acquired through so many 
 others. Moreover, he returns to the subject eleven 
 years later, Cristofolo, the benevolent though surly 
 uncle who unties the knots of the plot with his mag- 
 nanimity, being, as his author confesses, "the germ of 
 Geronte," the testy yet tender-hearted old codger who 
 gives The Beneficent Bear (Le Bourru bienfaisant] 
 its title. Although lacking in the intensely human 
 characterization of The Boors, "the skill with which 
 The New House is constructed," to quote Gasparo 
 Gozzi, "makes it interesting from top to bottom." 
 Goldoni had treated prodigality before, 20 but no- 
 where so vitally as in this Venetian comedy. More- 
 over, the subject is perennial, and of such enduring 
 interest that Sardou could not fail to see its worth. 
 From the materials used by Goldoni, this master- 
 
 20 In // Prodigo, La Bancarotta, La Buona moglie, La Famiglia dell' 
 antiquano, I Malcontenti, and La Villeggiatura. 
 
348 GOLDONI 
 
 builder of plays constructed his Maison neuve, a 
 comedy almost as far from the truth of life as Gol- 
 doni's play is close to it. 
 
 A few leagues south of Venice on the sandy shore 
 of the lagoon stood the fishing town of Chioggia, 
 with a speech and manners of its own. There Gol- 
 doni had passed, as we have seen, many days of his 
 youth, and in early manhood had held the post of 
 coadjutor to the criminal chancellor. Inspired by 
 his experiences there, he wrote in the dialect of that 
 quaint place The Chioggian Brawls (Le Baruffe 
 chiozzotte), a play of the common people, that shares 
 with The Boors the distinction of doing him "the 
 greatest honour." 21 
 
 On October loth, 1786, Goethe wrote from Venice: 
 
 At last I can say I have seen a comedy: They played to-day 
 at the San Luca Theatre Le Baruffe chiozzotte, which I should 
 interpret, "The Brawls and Shouting of Chioggia." The char- 
 acters are all seafaring men, inhabitants of Chioggia, and their 
 wives, sisters, and daughters. The usual babble of such people in 
 good and evil their dealings with one another, their vehemence, 
 but kindness of heart, commonplace remarks, and spontaneous man- 
 ners, their naive wit and humour all this was skilfully imitated. 
 The piece is by Goldoni, and as I had been only the day before in 
 the place itself, and as the voices and behaviour of the sailors and 
 people of the seaport still echoed in my ears and floated before 
 my eyes, it was a great joy to me ; and although I did not under- 
 stand many a feature, I was nevertheless, on the whole, able to 
 follow it pretty well. 
 
 Continuing, Goethe expounded what appeared to 
 
 21 Although the dialect in which The Chioggian Brawls is written is 
 not precisely Venetian, the differences that mark it are slight, Chioggia 
 being a dependency of Venice. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 349 
 
 him to be the story of the play; yet when the plot 
 waxed too hot for his comprehension, he dismissed 
 it as "an endless din of scolding, railing, and scream- 
 ing." Its spirit was not lost upon him, however, for 
 in conclusion he says: 
 
 I never saw anything like the noisy delight the people evinced 
 at seeing themselves and their mates represented with such truth 
 to nature. It was one continued laugh and tumultuous shout of 
 exultation from beginning to end. . . . Great praise is due the 
 author, who out of nothing had here created a most amusing en- 
 tertainment. 
 
 At the time Goethe wrote, Goldoni, though a feeble 
 octogenarian, was as light-hearted and generous to- 
 wards his fellow-men as when, at the age of fifty-four, 
 he had first put upon the stage of that same San 
 Luca Theatre the vivacious picture of Chioggian life 
 which so charmed his great contemporary. To have 
 witnessed the "noisy delight" of those people of Ven- 
 ice would have warmed the cockles of his honest 
 old heart, yet he, an exile at a moribund court, could 
 only recall the former night of triumph while thus 
 writing in his memoirs : 
 
 I composed a Venetian piece, entitled The Chioggian Brawls, 
 a low comedy that produced an admirable effect. ... I had been 
 coadjutor of the criminal chancellor at Chioggia in my youth. 
 . . . My position brought me in contact with that numerous and 
 tumultuous population of fishermen, sailors, and women of the 
 people, whose only place of meeting was the open street. I knew 
 their manners, their singular language, their gaiety, and their 
 spite; I was enabled to paint them accurately; and the capital, 
 which is only eight leagues distant from the town, was perfectly 
 well acquainted with my originals. 
 
350 GOLDONI 
 
 That the exceedingly human plot of this play 
 should have been to Goethe a "demon of confusion," 
 is not surprising; a court official in the play itself 
 the sole Venetian character being unable to under- 
 stand the dialect of Padron Fortunate, a stuttering 
 fisherman, described by Goethe as "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." 
 
 When the curtain rises, this stammering sea-dog 
 is aboard the fishing-smack (tartana) of Padron 
 Toni, whose wife, Pasqua, and sister, Lucietta, are 
 seen making lace before the door of their house. 
 Libera, wife of the "trembling, faltering Fortunato," 
 together with her sisters Orsetta and Checca, sits in 
 the street too, stitching and gossiping. Aboard the 
 smack are Titta-Nane, Lucietta's betrothed, and 
 Beppo, her brother, plighted to Orsetta. At large in 
 the streets of Chioggia is Toffolo, nicknamed "Mar- 
 motino" (little fool), a youthful boatman and the 
 town jack-a-dandy. When this young fellow, stroll- 
 ing down the street, sees pretty Lucietta lace-making, 
 he buys her a slice of roast pumpkin from a passing 
 street vender, and one for Orsetta too, the betrothed 
 of Beppo, but when he offers to treat Checca, she, 
 in pique at being invited last, refuses to accept. 
 "But Lucietta did," Toffolo says ingenuously. "She 
 is capable of anything," answers Checca, with a pert 
 toss of her head, an aspersion that starts the fiery ball 
 of Italian temper rolling. 
 

 COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Museo Correr 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 351 
 
 Before the Chioggian brawls that give the play 
 its name burst fully forth, Padron Toni's smack is 
 shown at her moorings, her yellow sail with the 
 winged lion of St. Mark flapping lazily in the breeze, 
 her nets drying on her briny quarters. The catch is 
 unloaded; the women flock to the port to greet their 
 husbands and lovers ; then Lucietta cattishly whispers 
 to her brother Beppo to beware of TofTolo's atten- 
 tions to Orsetta, while Checca, with vindictiveness 
 equally feline, informs Titta-Nane that Toffolo has 
 brazenly presented Lucietta with "roast pumpkin" 
 a wagging of tongues that sends both Beppo and 
 Titta-Nane in murderous search of him. Beppo 
 meets him; abuse pours volubly from his angry lips; 
 Toffolo throws stones, Beppo draws his knife, his 
 father intervenes; Titta-Nane appears armed with a 
 pistol. Chairs and lace-cushions are upset; wives 
 and sweethearts shriek abuse; fathers, brothers, and 
 lovers curse and pommel one another just because a 
 town dandy, in love with one pretty girl, has given 
 another a slice of roast pumpkin ; yet although knives 
 are drawn and pistols pointed, the first act is brought 
 to a close without the actual spilling of blood or any 
 one's knowing exactly why he has been drawn into 
 these Chioggian brawls. 
 
 In the second act Toffolo lodges a complaint with 
 the coadjutor against the unwarranted attack made 
 upon him, and a bailiff is sent to hale every one con- 
 nected with the rumpus into court; but before this 
 official executes his warrants, the following touching 
 
352 GOLDONI 
 
 lovers' quarrel ensues, jealous Titta-Nane stumbling 
 upon temperate Pasqua while she is imploring Lu- 
 cietta to realize that her lover's anger is merely an- 
 other proof of his love: 22 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 (Seeing Lucietta.) I wish to cast her off, but have not the 
 heart. 
 
 PASQUA 
 (To Lucietta.) Look at him. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 (To Pasqua.) Oh, I have my lace to look to. I have that to 
 look to. 
 
 PASQUA 
 (Aside.) I'd like to smash her head on that lace-cushion. 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 She does not look at me at all. She does not think of me at 
 all. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 Good day to thee, Titta-Nane. 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Good day to thee. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 (Te Lucietta.) Greet him. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 (To Pasqua.) Dost fancy I will be the first? 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 What a haste to work! 
 
 PASQUA 
 What sayest thou? Are we not respectable women, lad? 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Yes, yes, you do well to make haste while you may; when 
 young lads come nosing around there will be no time to work. 
 
 22 To convey the lisping charm of this dialect scene, as well as its 
 Italian volubility, in bluff English is manifestly an impossibility. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 353 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 (Coughs mockingly.) 
 
 PASQUA 
 (To Lucietta.) Relent. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Never. 
 
 Lucietta goes off, and Pasqua tries to assuage Titta- 
 Nane by telling him that when he is at sea and the 
 wind "blows up fresh," Lucietta gets up in the middle 
 of the night to go out on her balcony and watch the 
 clouds; for "she can see with no eyes but thine" she 
 assures him. But Titta-Nane is obdurate. "Get her 
 to confess all and ask pardon," he says. Lucietta re- 
 turns bearing his gifts. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Take, sir, thy slippers and ribbons and the keepsakes thou gav- 
 est me. (She flings them on the ground.) 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 Oh, dear me! Art thou daft? (She picks up the gifts and 
 places them on a chair.) 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 And this indignity to me? 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Didst thou not cast me off? Take thy trinkets. Do with 
 them what thou wilt. 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 If ever thou shouldst speak to "Marmotino," I will kill him. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Merciful heavens! Thou hast cast me off; wouldst thou lord 
 it over me as well? 
 
354 GOLDONI 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 I cast thee off because of him I cast thee off. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 Fie on thee, lad, for thinking that Lucietta would stoop to such 
 a vagabond. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Ill-favoured may I be, a hapless wretch may I be, or anything 
 thou likest; yet never will I be enamoured of a ferryman. 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Why didst thou let him loiter around thee? Why didst thou 
 let him buy thee roast pumpkin? 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Well, well, what a crime! 
 
 PASQUA 
 Mercy, what an ado about nothing! 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 When I make love, I wish no one to be able to gossip. I will 
 have it thus, I will. By Heaven, no man has wronged Titta- 
 Nane! No man shall wrong him. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 How thin-skinned thou art! (Wipes her eyes.) 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 I am a man, dost hear ! I am a man. I am no boy, dost hear ! 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 (Weeps ', showing that she is making an effort not to weep.) 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 (To Lucietta.) What ails thee? 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Nothing. (Weeping, she nudges Pasqua.) 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 Art thou weeping? 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 With anger, with anger; well could I flay him with my own 
 hands. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 355 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Now, then, what means this sobbing? {Approaching Luci- 
 etta.) 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Go to perdition! 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Dost thou hear, siora? (To Pasqua.) 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 Ay, isn't she right, when thou art worse than a dog? 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Wilt wager that I throw myself in the canal? 
 
 PASQUA 
 Fie upon thee, fool! 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Let him go; let him go. 
 
 PASQUA 
 Fie upon thee, hussy! 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 I loved her dearly, I loved her dearly. (Showing tenderness.) 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 (To Titta-Nane.) And now thou lovest her no more? 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 How can I, if she loves me no more? 
 
 PASQUA 
 What sayest thou to that, Lucietta? 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Let me alone, let me alone! 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 (To Lucietta.) Here, take thy shoes, thy ribbons, and thy 
 trinkets. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 I wish nothing, I wish nothing. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 (To Lucietta.) Come here; hearken to me. 
 
356 GOLDONI 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 Let me alone. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 Say one word. 
 
 LUCIETTA 
 
 No. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 (To Titta-Nane.) Come here, Titta-Nane. 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Never. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 Get thee gone. 
 
 TITTA-NANE 
 
 Nay, I will not. 
 
 PASQUA 
 
 I should send both of you to be drawn and quartered. 23 
 
 "This is no longer comedy," says Professor Orto- 
 lani, "but the lacerations of the human heart the 
 blood of the people." 24 Indeed, this play could not 
 have called forth "one continued laugh and tumultu- 
 ous shout of exultation," as Goethe relates ; for when 
 Titta-Nane quarrelled with Lucietta there must have 
 been a moment of silence tempered by sympathetic 
 tears. Yet there is food for laughter enough when 
 all the Chioggian brawlers being haled before the 
 coadjutor, Padron Fortunato's stammering causes 
 that official to close his court in sheer desperation. 
 
 In the final act the coadjutor steps from the ma- 
 chine, a god to quell these Chioggian brawls by his 
 good offices, ardent Titta-Nane being united to his 
 adored Lucietta, fiery Beppo to Orsetta, and Toffolo, 
 
 23 Act II, Scene 3. 24 Op. cit. 
 
COMEDIES IN VENETIAN DIALECT 357 
 
 the mischief-maker, to tattling Checca. This accom- 
 plished, the benevolent coadjutor orders wine, pump- 
 kins, and other goodies, and calling for fiddles, bids 
 the reconciled Chioggians regale themselves. In the 
 words of Vernon Lee: 
 
 Have we seen the ship come in, and fish in the basket? Have 
 we seen the women at their lace-cushions? Have we heard that 
 storm of cries, and shrieks, and clatter, and scuffling feet? Have 
 we really witnessed this incident of fishing life on the Adriatic? 
 No; we have only laid down a little musty volume, at the place 
 marked Le Baruffe chiozzotte, 25 
 
 Among all Goldoni's comedies, there is none so 
 pulsating with life as The Ghioggian Brawls. It 
 fairly teems with colour and evidences of fidelity of 
 touch ; it is a play, in fact, such as perhaps never had 
 been written in the world before ; at least the present 
 writer can recall in the previous range of the drama 
 no such actual picture of lower-class humanity, no 
 play dealing solely with the proletariat, where every 
 character, every situation is true to the life of the 
 common people. It is true that farces of street life 
 are as old as Menander: indeed it was the Venetian 
 custom to present dialect farces at carnival time; but 
 where is there a comedy written before Goldoni's day 
 and dealing solely with the lower class, that possesses 
 its good-humoured sincerity, its humanity, its fidelity 
 to the life of the common people their emotions, as 
 well as their vagaries? 
 
 Beneath the broad merriment of this play there 
 
 25 Op. cit. 
 
358 GOLDONI 
 
 are undertones of human passion that raise it from 
 what its author modestly calls "low comedy" to the 
 level of drama. Here was a painting of actual life; 
 yet artificial Marivaux had just danced in France 
 his dramatic minuet. To quote Professor Ortolani 
 once more, "Marivaux is a bit of lace a zephyr will 
 tear, Goldoni a piece of good sound cloth time will 
 not wear out." The one is the poet of a condition, 
 the other the poet of a race. Unlike his French con- 
 temporary, the Venetian wrote from the depths of 
 his own experience and observation. His dialect 
 characters are not pretty mechanical dolls dressed in 
 lace, but pulsating human beings, clad in homespun. 
 Keen critics, such as Goethe, must ever give "great 
 praise" to his truthful pictures of Venetian life, 
 painted in colours so vivid that they will endure long 
 after the delicate hues of Marivaudage shall have 
 faded completely. 
 
XI 
 
 EXOTIC COMEDIES 
 
 WHENEVER Goldoni lays the scene of a 
 comedy in a land where he has not dwelt, 
 the light of his peculiar genius is usually 
 obscured by a nescient mist which even his brilliant 
 stage-craft fails to dissipate entirely. This is par- 
 ticularly true of his exotic comedies in verse, such as 
 The Persian Bride (LaSposa persiana) and The Fair 
 Savage (La Bella selvaggia), whose jejune lines 
 are befogged by outlandish atmosphere. On the 
 other hand, cheering sunlight permeates the artifi- 
 ciality of the exotic comedies in prose whenever their 
 studied refinement is disturbed by an outburst of 
 mirth, which Goldoni's spontaneous nature could 
 never wholly restrain. Though the path their author 
 here treads is strange, his steps are not retarded by any 
 fettering measure; while in the scenes of these come- 
 dies he does not wander so far afield England and 
 Holland being nearer his native land than the Orient 
 or America, and certainly more akin to it in custom 
 and sentiment. There are only four of these exotic 
 comedies in prose by far the smallest number in any 
 single category of his work; yet, few though they are, 
 they reflect, more truly than any which came from his 
 
 359 
 
360 GOLDONI 
 
 prolific pen, the literary influences of the eighteenth 
 century: an age like our own, as Mr. Charles Leon- 
 ard Moore aptly puts it, 1 "of smugness and snug- 
 ness," and like it, too, an age of literary common 
 sense unadorned by poetry and undisturbed by hero- 
 ism and profundities, since, to quote Mr. Moore 
 again : 
 
 In thought, we have substituted the idea of evolution for ra- 
 tionalism; in form we have put the novel in place of satire or 
 didactic form. But for absolute poetry the poetry of imagina- 
 tion and beauty we have the same disinclination as our fore- 
 fathers had then. Tragedy is again abhorrent to us and we wreak 
 our souls on humour and social comedy. 
 
 Moreover, our own age, like the eighteenth cen- 
 tury, is one of social upheaval and discontent, in 
 which the third estate is again arrayed against the 
 church and the privileged classes. We have our phi- 
 losophers, too, our preachers of the rights of man, 
 therefore there is more than literary common sense 
 to make us akin to the eighteenth century. 
 
 Kindly Goldoni's spontaneous naturalism was ill 
 at ease when arrayed in didactic sentiment; yet when, 
 as in Pamela Unmarried (Pamela nubile), the first 
 of his exotic comedies in prose, he wanders meta- 
 phorically away from impulsive Venice to compla- 
 cent London by way of restless Paris, he is brought 
 under the influence of both the didacticism and dis- 
 content of his age. Its unquestioned wit and humor 
 went with him; therefore in viewing his Pamela, a 
 
 1 The Eighteenth Century Come Again, The Dial, September 18, 1911. 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 361 
 
 comedy founded upon Samuel Richardson's epoch- 
 marking novel of that name, the thing to be consid- 
 ered in addition to its exoticism is the part English 
 smugness and French unrest played in moulding it; 
 for, though its sentimentality is as wearisomely nice 
 as that of the novel from which it is taken, there is a 
 presage of Rousseau in it. 
 
 Although Richardson disputes with Defoe, Pre- 
 vost, Marivaux, and in an even greater degree with 
 Madame de la Fayette, for the honour of having writ- 
 ten the first modern novel, no one denies that his 
 Pamela possesses the essential elements of fiction; 
 concisely summed up by a modern critic as "plot, 
 motive, character portrayal, emotional excitement, 
 background, and style." 2 Moreover, if Pamela; or, 
 Virtue Rewarded be not the first novel, it is certainly 
 the first "best seller"; this work of a prosperous, vain, 
 timid, and fat little English printer having created 
 for its "lambkin" of a heroine a veritable furore, not 
 only in England, but on the continent as well, where 
 it was translated into several tongues and read as 
 widely as in the land of its birth. Goldoni, however, 
 was not the first playwright to realize the dramatic 
 value of its heroine's native innocence and purity, 
 virtue being an appealing dramatic subject, possibly 
 because of its contrast to the reality of eighteenth 
 century life. In 1749, the year before Goldoni's 
 Pamela saw the boards, Voltaire had presented to a 
 Parisian audience his Nanine, also a play based on 
 
 2 Charles F. Home, The Technique of the Novel. 
 
362 GOLDONI 
 
 Richardson's novel; yet six years before (1743) La 
 Chaussee had put forth his Pamela, a five-act comedy 
 in verse; while about the same time another stage 
 version of this story appeared from the pen of Louis 
 de Boissy, a lesser light. 3 
 
 La Chaussee, the author of one of these stage Pame- 
 las, holds a position in the drama not unlike that oc- 
 cupied in fiction by Richardson; for, while the En- 
 glishman was crystallizing into a popular form the 
 various elements that compose the modern novel, the 
 Frenchman was inventing lachrymose comedy 
 (comedie larmoyante), or bourgeois tragedy (trage- 
 die bourgeoise) as it is sometimes called a dramatic 
 form now termed drama, or comedy drama, accord- 
 ing to the intensity of the plot. Intended to call 
 forth tears as well as laughter, it is the form that vies 
 with farce in holding the attention of modern audi- 
 ences ; for seldom now are we regaled by pure com- 
 edy, such as Moliere's, or pure tragedy, such as that 
 of the Greeks, or of Racine. Until La Chaussee's 
 day tragedy and comedy were not blended in plays of 
 contemporaneous manners, the nearest previous ap- 
 proach to lachrymose comedy being the tragi-com- 
 edy, or play of serious emotions with a happy ending. 
 As this latter form was not used to treat of everyday 
 life, La Chaussee sounded a new dramatic note. To 
 quote one of his contemporaries : 4 
 
 He has invented a new style of comedy. It had represented 
 
 3 Pamela en Trance; ou la vertu mleux eprouvee. 
 
 4 L. Riccobini, Lettera al signor dottor Muratorl, May 30, 1737. 
 Quoted in the Nouvelle Biographic Generate, Vol. XXVIII. 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 363 
 
 heretofore the domestic life of burghers and well-to-do folk, and 
 sometimes even of artisans: the ancient stage, Greek as well as 
 Latin, furnishes us no longer with models except those of the na- 
 ture which the moderns have imitated. There is, however, in 
 society a class of people excluded from a comic plot; gentlemen 
 and lords of noble birth being held to be too exalted to enter into 
 the domestic situations which have always been the inheritance of 
 comedy. On the other hand, they cannot function in tragedy, 
 since they are not great enough to wear the buskin, worthy only 
 of princes and heroic deeds. It is these same persons, occupying, 
 if one may use the term, a sort of isolated niche, a middle state 
 as it were, between the high order of tragedy and the rank and 
 file of comedy, whom M. de la Chaussee has conceived as taking 
 part in a plot that may sometimes have the interest of tragedy, 
 and sometimes present situations in polite life between people of 
 quality, and which thus preserves the character of comedy. 
 
 One of La Chaussee's lachrymose comedies pic- 
 turing stiltedly the manners of a bygone day will not 
 hold the attention of a modern audience, nor will 
 Richardson's artless heroine do aught but make the 
 modern novel reader yawn, unless he be a very young 
 person sentimentally inclined, no adult modern 
 reader being able to derive pleasure from four vol- 
 umes treating, as Richardson expressed it, "of virtue 
 rewarded in a series of familiar letters from a beau- 
 tiful young damsel to her parents, published in order 
 to cultivate the principles of virtue and religion in 
 the minds of the youth of both sexes." The day of 
 Pamela is passed. We are no longer interested in 
 the trials of this child of fifteen, half servant, half 
 adopted daughter of an old lady, who on the death 
 of her mistress is exposed to the amorous importuni- 
 ties and persecutions of Mr. B , her young mas- 
 
364 GOLDONI 
 
 ter. Though she loves Mr. B secretly in spite 
 
 of his persecutions, and continues humble and de- 
 voted, even when her virtue is rewarded by his hand 
 and heart, she will not awaken our jaded interest 
 except perhaps when venal Mrs. Jewkes introduces 
 her importunate master in female disguise into her 
 virginal bed. Equally are we bored by the didactic 
 picture of the dismal consequences of blind and 
 doting maternal love La Chaussee presents in The 
 School for Mothers (L'Ecole des meres), although 
 La Harpe called it "one of the best comedies of the 
 eighteenth century." 5 
 
 Yet, stilted as are the novels of the one and the come- 
 dies of the other, Richardson and La Chaussee played 
 leading and similar roles in literature, Richardson 
 being the first novelist to tell a consistent story of the 
 life about him in a popular way, and La Chaussee, 
 the first dramatist to unify the elements of tragedy 
 and comedy in plays dealing with persons and events 
 of his own times, a form that is essentially the drama 
 of our day as distinguished from pure comedy and 
 boisterous farce. Whenever a play of to-day makes 
 us both laugh and weep, or only weep, if its charac- 
 ters and scenes are familiar, it is a comedie larmoy- 
 ante, or drame, as the French soon began to style La 
 Chaussee's dramatic form. 6 Still there is danger in 
 
 5 Cours de litterature. 
 
 6 Goldoni says that his Pamela is "a drame according to the French 
 definition of the term"; Beaumarchais states that "the drame holds a 
 place between heroic tragedy and merry comedy," from which it appears 
 that this term soon supplanted both comedie larmoyante and tragedie 
 bourgeoise in describing this stage form. 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 365 
 
 giving entire credit to La Chaussee for the concep- 
 tion of lachrymose comedy. His contemporaries 
 proclaimed him the inventor of this form and he 
 has been so considered by succeeding generations; 
 yet Gustave Larroumet 7 disputes this honour for 
 Marivaux, whom he declares to be the author .of "an 
 excellent bourgeois drama, without the exaggerations 
 or shortcomings of either La Chaussee or Diderot." 8 
 
 This digression has been necessary for a clearer 
 understanding of Goldoni's Pamela Unmarried, the 
 plot of which was taken from the earlier scenes of 
 Richardson's first novel ; for, in dramatizing this pa- 
 thetic story of love and persecution, the characters of 
 which vary in social degree from the well born hero 
 to the low born heroine, he was compelled by the very 
 subject he had chosen to write a comedie larmoyante, 
 or drame, such as La Chaussee had but a little while 
 before put upon the Parisian stage. Moreover, 
 Richardson's text brought him under the didactically 
 sentimental influence of northern Europe, thereby 
 making him forswear his own naturalism, his Pamela 
 being so unlike his spontaneous and true pictures of 
 Venetian life that it is difficult to recognize it as trie 
 work of this painter of nature, so untrue are its char- 
 acters, so artificial is its language. 
 
 Goldoni's account of Pamela and of the causes 
 that induced him to write it, presents so clearly 
 
 7 Mari'vaux, sa <vie et ses ceuvres. 
 
 B La Mere confidente produced in 1735. La Chaussee's first play, 
 La Fausse antipathic, appeared two years earlier: Goldoni's Pamela 
 nubile in 1750. 
 
 
366 GOLDONI 
 
 its stilted plot that it may interest, not only as a proof 
 of how far this merry Venetian had been led away 
 from the true path of his genius, but as an example 
 of his artless way of talking about his work, and of 
 the nervous and careless style of his memoirs as well, 
 the paragraphing and punctuation of the original be- 
 ing here retained intact: 
 
 The novel of Pamela had been for some time delighting Italy, 
 and my friends were tormenting me by insisting that I should 
 make a comedy from it. 
 
 I knew that work; I had no difficulty in catching the spirit of 
 it, and would not find it hard to reassemble its component parts; 
 but the moral goal of the English author did not fit the laws and 
 manners of my country. 
 
 In London a lord does not disparage his nobility by marrying 
 a peasant woman ; in Venice a patrician who weds a plebeian girl, 
 deprives his children of patrician rank, and they lose their right of 
 inheritance. 
 
 Comedy, which is or should be the school for morals, must not 
 expose human foibles except to correct them, and one is bound not 
 to risk sacrificing a helpless posterity under the guise of rewarding 
 virtue. 
 
 Therefore I had resisted the charm of this novel; but seeing 
 that I must ever be on the watch for new material, and surrounded 
 as I was, both at Mantua and in Venice, by people who urged me 
 to dramatize it, I consented willingly enough. 
 
 I did not, however, begin the work until I had thought out a 
 denouement which, far from being dangerous, might serve as a 
 model to virtuous lovers and at the same time render the catastro- 
 phe more pleasant and interesting. 
 
 Pamela begins the play in a scene with Jevre (Mrs. Jewkes), 
 a former housekeeper of the family; she is regretting the loss of 
 her mistress, deceased a few months before, and she informs the 
 audience of her own condition. She is a village girl whom Mi- 
 lady had taken into her household as a chambermaid; but whom 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 367 
 
 she loved as her own child, and to whom she had given an edu- 
 cation above her station. The conversation turns on the son of 
 the deceased mistress: Jevre inspires Pamela with the hope that 
 Lord Bonfil (Mr. B ) will not forget his mother's recom- 
 mendations in regard to her: Pamela shows in broken words and 
 sighs, her inclination for her young master: she wishes to leave 
 London, she wishes to go back to the bosom of her family; it is 
 the struggle between love and virtue. 
 
 In the course of the play, the young lord is seen to burn with 
 the same fire as Pamela; she is virtuous; he makes efforts to sub- 
 due her to his wishes; Pamela remains strong, Milord is furious. 
 
 Lady Dauvre, Lord BonfiTs sister, notices the passion of her 
 brother; she demands Pamela from him; Bonfil hesitates at first; 
 he consents, then withdraws his consent; he imprisons Pamela; he 
 is greatly agitated. 
 
 Lord Arthur, his friend, comes to see him ; he notices his grief ; 
 he tries to cheer him; he proposes three different matches to him; 
 Bonfil does not think them to his liking. 
 
 Another scene takes place between these two friends, which is 
 a sort of discussion on the choice of a wife, on English liberty, and 
 on the drawbacks of marriages unequal in regard to property. 
 
 This last point makes an impression on BonfiPs mind; he is 
 struck with it, but he cannot make up his mind to give up Pamela. 
 
 The latter had written to her father, and had told him of her 
 embarrassing position and her fears: this father arrives; he intro- 
 duces himself to Milord and demands his daughter; Milord re- 
 fuses to give her back to him; Andreuve (this is the old man's 
 name) asks Milord seriously what his views are in regard to his 
 daughter: Milord acknowledges his passion; he loves Pamela; and 
 would only be too happy if he could make her his wife; it is not 
 interestedness that restrains him; it is his condition, his birth. 
 The old man touched by the sentiments of Milord, and seeing 
 his opportunity to establish his daughter's happiness, confides to 
 him his secret; Andreuve is not his name; he is the Count of 
 Auspingh, a Scotchman, who, during the revolutions in that king- 
 dom, was counted as one of the rebels against the British Crown, 
 he escaped over the mountains, and bought with the little money 
 which he had left enough land to cultivate and to live upon; he 
 
368 GOLDONI 
 
 has proofs of his former station, and quotes living witnesses who 
 can identify him. 
 
 Milord Bonfil examines the papers, sees the witnesses, solicits 
 the pardon of the outlawed man, and obtains it without difficulty; 
 he marries Pamela; behold virtue rewarded, and the proprieties 
 saved. 
 
 The most singular thing about this play, is that after the recog- 
 nition scene, 9 where, according to the rules of the art, the action 
 should terminate, there are ten scenes, which instead of boring 
 people, amuse as much as the preceding ones, and perhaps still 
 more. 
 
 Pamela does not know what has happened between Bonfil and 
 her father; she does not know of her new station in life, she is 
 ready to leave her lover; he takes pleasure in teasing her: he is 
 going to be married : he will marry the Countess of Auspingh ; he 
 praises her: Pamela suffers, her father arrives, he encourages her 
 to embrace Milord: Pamela is at sea; an attempt is made to ex- 
 plain the situation to her; she cannot believe the thing possible; 
 Jevre salutes her as her mistress, Lady Dauvre calls to pay her 
 respects: at last Pamela is assured of her happiness: she remains 
 modest and grateful; she is changed in station, but not in char- 
 acter. 
 
 Until now I have not mentioned a personage who enlivens the 
 seriousness of the play considerably ; this is the Chevalier Ernold, 10 
 a nephew of Lady Dauvre, a young Englishman who has just re- 
 turned from a trip through Europe, and who, for lack of princi- 
 ples and instruction, has brought back with him all the ridiculous 
 mannerisms current in the countries through which he has trav- 
 elled. 
 
 The only scene in this old-fashioned comedy drama 
 
 9 A scene in which the position of the persons concerned in the action 
 is changed with regard to one another by the unexpected revival of an 
 old and unimportant relation between them, unknown theretofore, and 
 which produces friendship or hate between the persons. The French 
 text has agnition (Latin agnitio, from agnoscere), a rare word now re- 
 placed by reconnaissance. Aristotle calls such a scene the anagnorisis. 
 
 10 The spelling "Hernold" of the Memoirs has been changed to "Er- 
 nold" to conform with the spelling in the play. 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 369 
 
 which is illuminated by the light of Goldoni's mirth- 
 ful genius occurs when the shallow and affected 
 Chevalier Ernold of whom he here speaks, calls on 
 Lord Bonfil, and finding him taking tea with his 
 friends, Lord Arthur and Lord Coubrech, thus turns 
 the conversation to his own travels : 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 I can't stay in London any more. Oh, what a fine thing travel 
 is ! How delightful to change from one country or nation to an- 
 other; to-day here, to-morrow there, seeing the magnificent enter- 
 tainments, the splendid courts, the abundance of merchandise, the 
 crowds of people, the sumptuousness of the buildings. What 
 would you have me do in London? 
 
 ARTHUR 
 
 London is not a city that need give way so easily to another. 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 Oh, pardon me; you know nothing about it. You have not 
 seen Paris, Madrid, Rome, Lisbon, Vienna, Florence, Milan, Ven- 
 ice. Believe me you know nothing about it. 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 A prudent traveller never runs down his own country. Cheva- 
 lier, will you take tea? 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 No, thank you; I've drunk chocolate. In Spain they drink 
 delicious chocolate. Also in Italy its use is rather common, but 
 without vanilla, or at least with very little vanilla, and above all 
 other cities Milan excels in this respect. In Venice they drink 
 exquisite coffee, genuine Alexandrian coffee, and they make it 
 there to perfection. Then, Naples carries off the palm with its 
 sherbets; they have exquisite flavours; and what is important for 
 the health, they are made with snow, not with ice. Every city 
 has its peculiar preeminence: Vienna is noted for its great en- 
 tertainments, and Paris oh, my dear Paris! for its gallantry, 
 its love-making. How delightful to meet without raising prudish 
 
370 GOLDONI 
 
 suspicions! How delightful to love without the demon of jeal- 
 ousy! Festivals always, gardens everywhere, amusements, pas- 
 times, and dancing for ever ! Oh, what lovely people ! Oh, what 
 pleasures, surpassing all the pleasures in the world! 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 (Calls.) Ho, there! 
 
 ISACCO (a servant) 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 Bring the chevalier a glass of water. 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 Why do you order a glass of water for me? 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 I fear that so much talking has dried your throat. 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 No, no; spare yourself the trouble. Since I left London, I 
 have learned how to talk. 
 
 BONFIL 
 It's easier to learn to talk than to be silent. 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 It's not so easy to learn to talk well. 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 But he who talks too much cannot always talk well. 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 My dear sir, you have not travelled. 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 And you make me lose the wish to travel. 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 Why? 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 Because I fear I also should acquire prejudices. 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 A remarkable prejudice is the display which some people make 
 of rigorous gravity. A man should be sociable, agreeable. The 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 371 
 
 world is made for those who know how to understand it, for those 
 who know how to enjoy its honest pleasures. What is the use 
 of your gloom? If you are talking you say ten words an hour; 
 if you take a walk, more often than not you like to be alone; if 
 you make love, you want to be understood without speaking; if 
 you go to the theatre where grand opera is given, you go there to 
 weep, and you are allured only by the pathetic song that excites 
 hypochondria. English comedies are critical, instructive, full of 
 fine characters, good sallies of wit; but they do not arouse laugh- 
 ter. In Italy at least you may enjoy delightful and witty com- 
 edies. Oh, if you could see what a fine mask Harlequin is! It 
 is a sin that we Englishmen will not endure the mask on the 
 London stage. If Harlequin could be introduced into our com- 
 edies, it would be the most delightful thing in the world! This 
 fellow represents a stupid servant, but at the same time an astute 
 one. He wears a very funny mask, is dressed in a suit of many 
 colours, and makes you split your sides with laughing. Believe 
 me, friends; if you saw him you would be forced to laugh in spite 
 of all your gravity. He says some very witty things. Just listen 
 to some of the witticisms I have remembered: Instead of patron, 
 he says poltroon; and instead of doctor, he says dolorus. He calls 
 a bonnet a bell, and a letter a litter. He is always talking about 
 eating, and is saucy to all the women. He beats his master hor- 
 ribly. 
 
 ARTHUR 
 (Rises.) My lord and friends, good-bye. (Exit.) 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 Are you going? I've just remembered a delightful one which 
 can't help making you laugh. One evening, in a single comedy, 
 Harlequin, in order to deceive an old man whose name was Panta- 
 loon, transformed himself into a Moor, a moving statue, and a 
 skeleton, and at the end of all his knavery he treated the good old 
 man to a drubbing. 
 
 COUBRECH 
 
 (Rises.) My friend, by your leave; I cannot endure any more. 
 (Exit.) 
 
372 GOLDONI 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 (To Bonfil.) Now you see what it means not to have trav- 
 elled. 
 
 BONFIL 
 
 Chevalier, if that makes you laugh, I don't know what to think 
 of you. You can't make me believe that in Italy sensible men 
 laugh at such tomfoolery. Laughter is natural to man, but all 
 men don't laugh for the same reason. There is worthy fun aroused 
 by word-play, sharp sallies, or witty and brilliant conceits. There 
 is base laughter, born of scurrility and stupidity. Allow me to 
 speak to you with the freedom with which a kinsman, a friend, 
 may speak. You have travelled prematurely; your travels should 
 have been preceded by the best of studies: history, chronology, 
 sketching, mathematics, and good philosophy are the branches of 
 knowledge necessary to a traveller. Chevalier, if you had studied 
 them before leaving London, your mind would not have been ar- 
 rested by the entertainments of Vienna, the gallantry of Paris, the 
 harlequinades of Italy. (Exit.) 
 
 ERNOLD 
 
 My lord, you don't know what is proper to say; you say that 
 because you have not travelled. (Exit.) 11 
 
 Aside from its literary interest as a dramatization 
 of the first popular novel, couched in a dramatic form 
 that has been used by nearly every subsequent writer 
 of serious prose drama, Pamela is noteworthy be- 
 cause of the unusual boldness displayed by timid 
 Goldoni in attacking the social problems of his day. 
 To quote Professor Ortolani : 
 
 12 
 
 The great problem of the eighteenth century, whether or not 
 the social privilege of birth and blood should prevail over natural 
 laws, was here put into action and solved, at least in the minds of 
 the spectators. Pamela conquered; Bonfil was unable either to 
 
 11 Act I, Scene 16. 
 
 12 Opere complete di Carlo Goldoni, Vol. V, nota storica. 
 

 EXOTIC COMEDIES 373 
 
 seduce or banish her; Madame Jevre ingenuously anticipated the 
 theories of J. J. Rousseau, the public wept and applauded. 
 
 The passage in which Rousseau is heralded is per- 
 haps the most remarkable to be found in any of Gol- 
 doni's comedies, since even before the Citizen of 
 Geneva began to voice the rights of man, 13 this Vene- 
 tian bourgeois, whose conservatism is so frequently ex- 
 pressed by his hide-bound Pantalone, placed the fol- 
 lowing radical sentiments on the lips of lord Bon- 
 fil's housekeeper, in a scene in which she discusses 
 with a friend of that nobleman her master's inten- 
 tions of marrying the virtuous Pamela: 
 
 14 
 
 That one should die to preserve one's honour I understand, but 
 that it should be a dishonour to marry a poor but honest girl I 
 do not see at all. I have often heard it said that the world would 
 be more beautiful if it had not been spoiled by men, who for the 
 sake of pride have upset the beautiful order of Nature. That 
 common mother regards us all as equal, though the arrogance of 
 the great does not deign to consider the small. The day will 
 come, however, when one pudding will again be made of both 
 great and small. 
 
 Nowhere in his comedies does Moliere express 
 such radical sentiments as these, for in his day in- 
 equality was accepted as an unalterable law of na- 
 ture. That peaceful Goldoni should have uttered 
 a doctrine so revolutionary long before he had met 
 
 13 Pamela (1750) was presented the same year in which was pub- 
 lished Rousseau's first dlscours (Si le retablissement des sciences et des 
 arts a contribue a epurer les maeurs), but his discours, Sur I'origine et 
 les fondements de I'inegalite parmi les hommes was not published until 
 1755, and the Contrat social not until 1762. 
 
 14 Act III, Scene 3. 
 
374 GOLDONI 
 
 either Rousseau or Voltaire, or been brought directly 
 under French influence uttered it, too, in a Vene- 
 tian theatre where the patricians spat from their boxes 
 upon the vulgar herd below in the pit, is an astound- 
 ing fact that baffles all explanation, unless it be that 
 he had read Voltaire's Nanine, a play also founded 
 upon Richardson's Pamela, in which the Sage of 
 Ferney voices the following democratic views: 
 
 THE COUNT 
 
 You like magnificence; you think that greatness 
 Lies in armorial bearings: its abode 
 I seek within the heart. . . . 
 
 THE BARONESS 
 
 Do you owe nothing, please you, sir, to rank? 
 
 THE COUNT 
 
 My duty lies in being a gentleman. 
 
 THE BARONESS 
 
 My birth demands a higher character. 
 
 THE COUNT 
 
 Mine's higher still: it braves the vulgar crowd. 
 
 THE BARONESS 
 
 You'd strip us even of our quality. 
 
 THE COUNT 
 
 Nay; thus I'd dignify our humankind. 15 
 
 Goldoni expresses these very sentiments in Pamela, 
 when the virtuous heroine says to her master: "No- 
 ble blood is an accident of birth; noble actions char- 
 
 15 Nanine, Act I, Scene i. 
 

 EXOTIC COMEDIES 375 
 
 acterize the nobleman." Indeed, as Signer Falchi 
 justly exclaims, "What is there in Voltaire's declara- 
 tions that is not to be found in Pamela's words, and 
 how far removed are Voltaire's words from the con- 
 cise revolutionary conception Goldoni presented in 
 Madame Jevre's speech!" 16 Three or four years 
 later Goldoni gave utterance to radical views, yet 
 only in a satirical vein. 17 In Pamela, however, he 
 appears as the sincere tribune of humanity, albeit 
 only in a speech or two of this super-sentimental com- 
 edy. 
 
 Indeed, aside from its historical interest and its 
 outburst of radicalism, there is little in Pamela Un- 
 married to hold the modern reader's attention, in 
 spite of the fact that Signor Galanti calls it "a true 
 jewel," 18 and Professor Ortolan! pronounces its hero- 
 ine "such a sweet and delicate girlish figure that she 
 deserves a place of her own on the stage." 19 Her 
 place is rather in the museum of literary antiques, 
 where the student may view her in a leisurely way, 
 while he who seeks diversion may pass her by hastily, 
 wondering meantime how such a smug little Miss In- 
 nocence could have amused the people of even a by- 
 gone day. She was not conceived by Goldoni, and 
 sentimental didacticism was not his natural bent; else 
 his fame would now be dimmed by that of La Chaus- 
 see, whose lachrymose style he emulated in this in- 
 
 16 Op. cit. 
 
 17 // Filosofo inglese. 
 
 18 Op. cit. 
 
 19 Opere complete di Carlo Goldoni. Vol. V, nota storlca. 
 
376 GOLDONI 
 
 stance, even though he did not, like Diderot, proclaim 
 it as his own invention. 20 
 
 In Pamela Married (Pamela maritata), the play 
 Goldoni wrote nine years later for the actors of the 
 Capranica theatre in Rome, he presents the matri- 
 monial troubles of Richardson's sentimental heroine; 
 Lord BonfiPs jealousy of his friend Lord Arthur, in- 
 cited by that travelled bore, the Chevalier Ernold, 
 because he had been soundly snubbed by Pamela, be- 
 ing the thread on which hangs an attenuated plot. 
 Goldoni says that "this play had more study and 
 finesse than Pamela Unmarried, but the latter had 
 more interest and action, the one being written for 
 the theatre, the other for the closet," an opinion with 
 which one has no desire to quarrel, virtuous Pamela's 
 married adventures, like those of virtuous Bettina, 21 
 being less interesting by far than the events which led 
 to her marriage. 
 
 Some years after the production of Pamela Unmar- 
 ried, Goldoni placed upon the Venetian boards A 
 Curious Mishap (Un Curioso accidente), an exotic 
 comedy inspired, he informs us, by "a strange and 
 amusing adventure" that happened to a prominent 
 Dutch merchant, the facts of which were told him 
 by this merchant's Venetian correspondents. The 
 story of this play concerns the secret love of Lieuten- 
 ant de la Cotterie, a wounded French prisoner of war, 
 
 20 Diderot's "serious and moral" drama (Le genre serieux et honnete) 
 was in form, at least, merely the comedie larmoyante of La Chaussee, 
 though its sermons were preached even more didactically. 
 
 21 In La Buona moglie, the sequel to La Putta onorata. 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 377 
 
 for Giannina, daughter of a merchant of The Hague 
 named Filiberto, in whose hospitable house the 
 Frenchman lodges during his convalescence. 
 
 Far from suspecting the havoc Cupid has played 
 in his household, Filiberto, hoodwinked by the lieu- 
 tenant's valet in regard to the true state of affairs, 
 plots to marry his French guest to Costanza, the 
 daughter of a fellow-merchant named Riccardo, 
 whose ingratitude for the start in life he once gave 
 him makes Filiberto relish the notion of stealing his 
 antagonist's daughter from under his nose. Cos- 
 tanza loves the lieutenant, so she falls a willing dupe 
 to the plan. As the real lovers dare not avow their 
 love, they pretend to acquiesce in fulfilling it, Gian- 
 nina in particular torturing both the lieutenant and 
 Costanza by her clever dissembling. Meanwhile 
 Filiberto beards Riccardo, and upon his refusal to 
 let his daughter marry a penniless Frenchman, ad- 
 monishes that officer to marry the girl he loves with- 
 out her father's consent, and actually lends him 
 money for that purpose. He soon rues this advice, 
 for when his daughter hears from his own lips that 
 he has counselled M. de la Cotterie to wed in spite 
 of a father's opposition, she promptly goes off to the 
 house of an aunt and marries him herself, thus ad- 
 ministering to Filiberto the very medicine he has 
 prescribed for a rival in business, whose subsequent 
 gloating piques him into forgiving his wayward child. 
 / Although the scene of A Curious Mishap is laid in 
 /Holland, it is purely a comedy of intrigue con- 
 
378 GOLDONI 
 
 structed upon conventional lines, in which there is no 
 atmospheric fidelity or naturalistic characterization, 
 such as Goldoni presents so frequently in his Vene- 
 tian comedies^ Yet its plot is so cleverly woven and 
 its tale of love's triumph so sympathetic that it still 
 holds the interest of an audience; for, when it was 
 presented a few years ago (1907-1908) in Chicago 
 and throughout the northwestern States by Mr. Don- 
 ald Robertson, this excellent actor found that it inter- 
 ested the average play-goer more than any of the 
 plays of Moliere, Calderon, Ibsen, Browning, and 
 others, presented by him at that time. When A Cu- 
 rious Mishap was played in France, however, during 
 its author's lifetime, it proved a failure, an undutiful 
 daughter being antipathetic in France, and a mar- 
 riage on the spur of the moment impossible in a coun- 
 try where, both legally and sentimentally, parents are 
 honoured more rigorously than elsewhere. That 
 Goldoni was himself doubtful of the moral effect of 
 this play, even in Italy, is shown when the heroine, 
 after obtaining parental forgiveness for her runaway 
 marriage and confessing that she has exceeded the 
 limits of duty and family respect, asks the "kind spec- 
 tators" not to follow her bad example, but to "let the 
 fruits of the performance be a warning to their fam- 
 ilies." 
 
 In The Scotch Girl (La Scozzese), the fourth of 
 his exotic comedies in prose, written in 1761, Goldoni 
 appears as an adapter, the original inspiration being, 
 as he frankly acknowledges, Voltaire's come die lar- 
 

 EXOTIC COMEDIES 379 
 
 moyante of the same name (L'Ecossaise) , produced 
 in Paris during the previous year. Indeed, Voltaire's 
 piece proved so popular that three Venetian versions 
 were presented almost simultaneously. Of these, 
 Goldoni's alone was successful, a bit of good fortune 
 due to his knowledge of stage-craft, his piece being 
 dramatically superior to its original. 
 
 In Voltaire's romantic comedy, Lindane, the hero- 
 ine, is the daughter of a Scotch nobleman, whose fa- 
 ther had fled from Scotland years before the play 
 begins because of a charge of treason malevolently 
 brought against him by a lifelong enemy. Coming 
 to London in search of her father, Lindane lodges at 
 good Maitre Fabrice's inn, where she is tenderly 
 cared for by the innkeeper and his wife, and where 
 she meets and falls in love with Lord Murray, the 
 son of her father's enemy, and is loved by him. Al- 
 though this young nobleman, on learning the identity 
 of his inamorata, seeks to right the wrong his dead 
 father had done, Voltaire's dramaturgy is so clumsy 
 that he does not permit this hero to appear until the 
 fourth act of the play. Meanwhile a letter he has 
 written to Lindane telling her of his constant affec- 
 tion for her, is intercepted by Lady Alton, a jealous 
 villainess who not only convinces Lindane of Lord 
 Murray's infidelity, but with the aid of the false tes- 
 timony of Frelon, a pamphleteer, succeeds in obtain- 
 ing a warrant for her Scotch rival's arrest as a trea- 
 sonable suspect. Meeting the police officer who 
 comes to serve it, Freeport, a worthy merchant, goes 
 
380 GOLDONI 
 
 surety for Lindane and obtains her release on bail 
 without her knowing the danger that has threatened 
 her. In the meantime, her father arrives at the inn, 
 bent on revenge for the wrongs that have befallen 
 him at the hands of the elder Lord Murray. Meet- 
 ing by chance the fair countrywoman who is his 
 fellow-lodger, he questions her and learns that she 
 is his daughter; whereupon young Lord Murray ap- 
 pears and convinces Lindane of his fidelity. The fa- 
 ther, on learning the young nobleman's identity, 
 draws his sword to attack him, but instead of defend- 
 ing himself, Murray throws away his weapon and 
 pulls from his pocket the pardon for his opponent 
 which he has obtained from the King, this act of 
 magnanimity bringing tears of gratitude to the pro- 
 scribed Scotchman's eyes, and a happy termination to 
 the play. 
 
 Goldoni retained the essential elements of Vol- 
 taire's story, yet built a more coherent play, his wider 
 dramatic experience having taught him the value of 
 what the late M. Sarcey called scenes a faire, or neces- 
 sary scenes that must be acted and not related in nar- 
 rative by the actors. Thus, instead of making the love 
 of Lord Murray and Lindane a fact told the audience 
 when the play begins, the Venetian shows this love 
 in its contrariety as well as in its culmination, he be- 
 ing too deft a dramatist to repeat Voltaire's amateur- 
 ish mistake of leaving the romance of a romantic play 
 to the imagination of his audience. Moreover, with 
 perhaps the single exception of Frelon, whom Vol- 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 381 
 
 taire conceived con odio to satirize his journalistic 
 enemy Freron, and therefore drew trenchantly, Gol- 
 doni's characters are more thoroughly and consist- 
 ently developed, his play being humanely as well as 
 technically superior to its prototype. Still, howso- 
 ever commendable his version is as a piece of stage 
 carpentry, it is at best a play outside the pale of his 
 peculiar genius, and, like Pamela, made interesting 
 chiefly by its historical relation to eighteenth century 
 literature. 
 
 Although Goldoni frankly acknowledged that his 
 Scotch Girl was merely an Italian version of Vol- 
 taire's play, and did not so much as hint that the latter 
 had shown an undue familiarity with his own come- 
 dies, Freron, the pamphleteer, satirized by Voltaire 
 under the thinly disguised name of Frelon, charged 
 this bitter enemy with having plagiarized his play, 
 largely from The Cavalier and the Lady and 
 The Coffee-House. It is true that certain elements 
 of these comedies appear in the French piece, the 
 scene, for instance, being the London coffee-house of 
 Maitre Fabrice, an honest innkeeper with a heart as 
 kind as that of Ridolfo, his Venetian prototype. Lin- 
 dane, too, the Scotch heroine, is as virtuous and proud 
 as Donna Leonora, the heroine of The Cavalier and 
 the Lady; and although she is the daughter instead 
 of the wife of a proscribed nobleman, like Leonora, 
 too, she supports her faithful maid and herself by her 
 needle, and is too proud to accept financial aid from 
 either Lord Murray, a lover as faultless as Don Ro- 
 
382 GOLDONI 
 
 drigo, the cavalier of Goldoni's play, or Freeport, a 
 worthy English merchant who finds surreptitious 
 means of aiding her, like the Anselmo of Goldoni. 
 Moreover, Frelon, the pamphleteer of evil tongue, 
 who makes Fabrice's coffee-house the headquarters 
 for his malice and plotting, although he was immedi- 
 ately recognized by Parisians as a satire upon Freron, 
 is certainly suggestive of Don Marzio, the mischie- 
 vous busy-body of The Coffee-House. Moreover, be- 
 cause "journalists were rare in Italy and the police 
 prevented them from being mischievous," Goldoni 
 in writing his version of Voltaire's play made Mon- 
 sieur la Cloche, as he calls the character correspond- 
 ing to Freron, a gossipy meddler similar to Don 
 Marzio. In the metamorphosis, however, he cur- 
 tails him from a person of considerable importance 
 in the unfolding of the plot to a mere character-bit 
 entirely subservient to Lady Alton, the villainess, a 
 woman, by the way, quite as worldly and unprincipled 
 as Donna Claudia and the other birds of fashion in 
 The Cavalier and the Lady. Yet, striking as the re- 
 semblance is between some of the characters of Vol- 
 taire's Scotch Girl and those to be found in two of 
 Goldoni's comedies, the former's story is sufficiently 
 new to absolve him from the charge of direct plagiar- 
 ism, the most that may be said being that he con- 
 ceived his play after having read Goldoni. 
 
 Bathetic romanticism such as is to be found in The 
 Scotch Girl is so alien to Goldoni's genius that it is a 
 pleasure to turn to his three comedies of army life, 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 383 
 
 all of which were inspired by his own experience and 
 observation. Although they are not precisely exotic 
 in character, they paint neither the life of the aristoc- 
 racy, the bourgeoisie, nor the proletariat of Venice; 
 therefore they fall more within the province of this 
 chapter than within that of any other of the present 
 work, so that a word here regarding them should not 
 be amiss. 
 
 The Swindler (L'Impostore) ? one of these military 
 plays, was intended, so Goldoni says, to "efface from 
 his mind the blackness a rascal's wickedness had im- 
 printed there," its protagonist being a portrait of the 
 Ragusan captain, who had fleeced him out of six thou- 
 sand livres under the pretence of raising a regiment 
 for foreign service. In his memoirs, he states that 
 he wrote this comedy for use in a Jesuit college at 
 Venice, while he tarried in Bologna during the sum- 
 mer of 1743, after being forced to leave his native city 
 largely because of the Ragusan's rascality, yet Pro- 
 fessor Maddalena maintains 22 that more than ten 
 years elapsed between the time of his duplicity and 
 his portrayal upon the stage, Goldoni having appar- 
 ently used considerable poetic license in his memoirs, 
 in order to heighten the dramatic effect of the tale. 
 
 Howsoever this may be, The Swindler is a pica- 
 resque comedy, in which the four Venetian masks ap- 
 pear, Orazio Sbocchia, the swindler who gives it a 
 name, being a military deserter drawn from the rascal 
 who had defrauded its author, all the details of the 
 
 22 Opere complete di Carlo Goldoni. Vol. IX, nota storica. 
 
384 GOLDONI 
 
 swindle being set forth in the play, although the cheat, 
 instead of escaping, is arrested and handed over to 
 the authorities. It was written, Goldoni tells us, 
 "with all the warmth his indignation could possibly 
 inspire," neither his brother being spared, "whom he 
 portrayed in vivid colours," nor himself, "whose sim- 
 plicity he clothed with all the ridicule it deserved." 
 The play is slight, however, in dramatic fibre, its 
 merit lying mainly in its amusing lazzi, wherein 
 Brighella, a pretended sergeant, chouses Arlecchino, 
 an innkeeper, out of food and drink for himself and 
 the yokels he has induced to enlist in Orazio Sboc- 
 chia's fictitious regiment. Indeed, it is interesting 
 chiefly because of its biographical aspect and the fact 
 that it is a play without a female part; for, although 
 rich Pantalone's daughter is sought in marriage by 
 the protagonist, she does not appear. Goldoni thus 
 thoroughly fulfilled his agreement to write "a com- 
 edy for a Jesuit school, without a female role and 
 adaptable to military exercises on the part of the stu- 
 dents." 
 
 As its name implies, The Military Lover 
 (IL'Amante militare) tells a story of love and war, 
 its hero, Don Alonso, being a young Spanish ensign 
 who has lost his heart to Rosaura, the daughter of 
 Pantalone, a worthy merchant in whose house he is 
 quartered. The villain is Don Garzia, a profligate 
 brother-officer, who, besides jilting an adoring 
 widow, makes love to every wearer of a petticoat that 
 crosses his path, and so insults Rosaura with his cava- 
 
EXOTIC COMEDIES 385 
 
 Her attentions that Don Alonso challenges him. 
 Their duel results in this hero's arrest, together with 
 the loss of his quarters in the-house of his inamorata, 
 his enemy being installed there in his stead by order 
 of the commanding general. Upon regaining his 
 freedom Don Alonso again provokes Don Garzia; 
 but, though that wretch's pistol misses fire, he gener- 
 ously spares his life. When peace is declared and the 
 troops depart for home, Don Alonso resigns his com- 
 mission to wed the faithful Rosaura, astute Panta- 
 lone, her father, being averse to a military son-in- 
 law who will desert the hearthside whenever duty 
 calls. 
 
 "I painted in Don Alonso," Goldoni tells us, "the 
 upright and intelligent officers I had known, and in 
 Don Garzia I copied those who permit themselves 
 the heedlessness of youth," Don Garzia, to quote his 
 own words, being "a lover of women, friends, horses, 
 the bottle, good living, and a hundred other things." 
 Yet, well contrasted as are the hero and villain of 
 this comedy, its author's real genius shines only in the 
 lazzi between Brighel'la, a hectoring sergeant, and 
 Arlecchino, a raw recruit, particularly when the lat- 
 ter, disguised in one of his sweetheart's dresses, de- 
 serts the colours after a sound beating for insubor- 
 dination, only to be caught, sentenced to be shot, and 
 reprieved while the muskets of the firing squad are 
 being levelled at his dull head. 
 
 In the comedy drama entitled War (La Guerra), 
 there are no lazzi and no mask characters, this play 
 
386 GOLDONI 
 
 being more serious in tone and far more naturalistic 
 than its predecessor. Its scene is the camp of an 
 army investing a fortified place; the siege of Piz- 
 zighettone, at which Goldoni had been present in 
 1733, furnishing the material. Its story concerns the 
 mutual love of Don Faustino, a young ensign in the 
 beleaguering army, and Donna Florida, a prisoner 
 in its camp as well as the daughter of the general 
 commanding the invested fortress ; yet its charm lies 
 far more in its spirited pictures of camp life and ex- 
 cellent characterizations than in its romantic plot. 
 
 We see officers, more intent on winning ducats or 
 hearts than battles, gambling and making love on 
 the eve of an assault; we see a venal commissary, who 
 began life as a muleteer, lending them money at 
 usurious rates and, aided by a conscienceless vivan- 
 diere, selling inferior goods at double prices to their 
 men; we see the rank and file despoiling innocent 
 country girls of their poultry and eggs, and libertine 
 superiors enticing them to their quarters. From the 
 rapacious camp we are taken to the grim battle-field 
 and shown the invested fortress with breached walls 
 and the besiegers marshalled for the assault. A 
 white flag flutters on the ramparts, and Don Egidio, 
 the general commanding the fortress, comes forth to 
 parley. His terms for surrender are the full honours 
 of war; and when these are refused, he goes courage- 
 ously back to defend his shattered walls, but not until 
 he has met the young enemy who loves his daughter 
 and has chivalrously accorded him her hand in the 
 

 EXOTIC COMEDIES 387 
 
 event that the lover shall survive until peace is de- 
 clared. The drums beat, the trumpets sound the 
 charge, but, just as the cannon are trained and the 
 matches lighted, a courier gallops breathless upon 
 the scene with the news of peace, the horrors of war 
 being too foreign to Goldoni's kind heart to permit 
 him to display them. Nor could the glitter of war 
 blind his clear vision to its rapacity and meanness; 
 witness these words of his venal commissary, fatten- 
 ing like a leech on the blood of others : 
 
 O'h, what a fine thing is war! I shall ever speak well of it, 
 and there is no danger of a desire for peace escaping from my heart. 
 Any one who hears me might say: "You pray for your calling, 
 like the wife of the public torturer who asked Heaven to increase 
 her husband's business!" Well, who in the world does not seek 
 his advantage before all else? Lawsuits give the lawyers their 
 living and illness gives the doctors theirs; yet where is the doctor 
 or the lawyer who would wish all men to be well and all families 
 peaceful ? If there were no wars there would be no commissaries ; 
 and who is the man that, being able to put aside a hundred thou- 
 sand scudi during four or five years of war, would for love of his 
 neighbour desire peace? Those who see their lands devastated 
 wail against war; not those who, to provision the army, sell at 
 high prices their corn and their wine. The merchants who suffer 
 the damage of interrupted business complain of war; not those 
 who supply the soldiers' needs and make on their goods twenty or 
 thirty per cent. Those families who unluckily lose a father, a 
 son, or a kinsman, weep over war ; not those who see them return- 
 ing home rich in ^lory and laden with booty. Sometimes the sol- 
 diers and the officers, too, who suffer from lack of necessities, com- 
 plain of war, but certainly a commissary like me does not com- 
 plain, who, swimming in prosperity, profits by sales and provi- 
 sions, and whose brains make the gold and silver of everyone in 
 the army filter into his pockets. 
 
3 88 GOLDONI 
 
 The camp-followers in this military play are 
 thieves and usurers, the officers and soldiers mostly 
 rakes and plunderers ; for, while there are a few brave 
 men among them, such as Don Alonso, the hero, and 
 intrepid Don Egidio, to temper the depravity and 
 sordidness of the picture, they do not overshadow its 
 cruel truth. The soldiers that overran Italy then, 
 whether French, Austrian, Spanish, or Piedmontese, 
 were hirelings officered by dissolute nobles to whom 
 war meant the gratification of their lusts officers 
 who, like the titled lieutenant of this play, would 
 gamble their last gold piece away on the eve of bat- 
 tle, then drain a bumper of burgundy and shout: 
 "Long live war, long live love, long live good wine 
 and fair women!" Such an army Goldoni portrays 
 in his comedy-drama, War an army of soldiers who 
 pillage, officers who dissipate, and commissaries who 
 steal. He had been on the field of battle and in the 
 camp ; he had even been despoiled of all his posses- 
 sions by the stragglers of just such an army as he here 
 depicts. Small wonder that this clear-sighted natu- 
 ralist should have robbed war of its glamour! 
 
XII 
 
 RIVALS AND CRITICS 
 
 LIKE Moliere, the master mind of comedy, in- 
 deed like nearly every dramatist of note, Gol- 
 doni was malignantly assailed during his 
 lifetime by rivals and critics. Being a peaceful, as 
 well as a kindly man, he never provoked a quarrel; 
 yet during the years when he wrote for the Venetian 
 stage, there was scarcely a time when some com- 
 petitor of inferior talent was not conspiring to wean 
 the public from him, or some petty caviller traducing 
 him. Occasionally, when brought to bay, he turned 
 upon his enemies ; but he never retorted in the bill- 
 ingsgate of their attacks upon him: in truth, no better 
 proof that Goldoni was at heart a gentleman need be v / 
 adduced than to tell of his affrays with critics and 
 rivals, among whom Carlo Gozzi, the most ribald ! 
 and abusive, was a gentleman by birth. 
 
 To the "ill-conceived zeal" of his friends Goldoni 
 ascribes the asperity of foes, who were provoked to 
 attack him because "his partisans exalted the merits 
 of his plays too highly." In his memoirs he pays 
 marked tribute to his defenders ; yet he is singularly 
 silent regarding his enemies. Though in all prob- 
 ability his defeat in the long war Carlo Gozzi waged 
 
 389 
 
390 GOLDONI 
 
 against him drove him in chagrin to a foreign land, 
 not once does he speak of this crabbed rival, or his 
 vitriolic attacks, "expressive silence" being his meet 
 revenge. It becomes necessary, therefore, to trace 
 the story of his literary quarrels in the writings of his 
 enemies. Of these there is no dearth, Venice being 
 then the printer's paradise, where booksellers sold 
 their wares by weight, while venders of pamphlets 
 hawked theirs through the streets. 
 
 At the corner book-shop or the coffee-house old 
 fogies with manuscript protruding from the tail- 
 pockets of their coats, glossologists, romancers, poets, 
 lexicographers, wits, purists, encyclopaedists and ga- 
 zetteers, each with a belief in himself and a contempt 
 for his rival, talked literature and pinched snuff from 
 morn till night, or read the Gazzetta Veneta. When 
 the light grew too dim for their old eyes to see print, 
 they sauntered forth to the Sant 7 Angelo or the San 
 Luca to witness the latest comedy; and when the cur- 
 tain had fallen, they carried the acerbity of their dis- 
 putes concerning it to the Ridotto, where, between 
 their coups at faro, they averred that Goldoni had 
 emptied his bag. Most men without a lucrative oc- 
 cupation, if they were not beggars or thieves, were 
 writers earning what they could by penning occa- 
 sional verse and dedications a slice of bread, may- 
 hap, with a cup of chocolate or, if the patron were 
 noble, a pair of cuff-buttons, a silver breakfast serv- 
 ice. There were poets who starved in garrets and 
 poets who lolled in palaces, and though some wore 
 

 RIVALS AND CRITICS 3911 
 
 threadbare coats and others silken robes, so many 
 reams of verse were written by them that sonnets 
 were blown hither and thither by the wind, while 
 Gozzi reckoned that a cobbler got more for a stitch 
 than a poet for a line. Small wonder, therefore, 
 that successful Goldoni should have been the target 
 for jealous shafts. 
 
 No sooner did he appear in Venice as the play- 
 wright of Imer's troupe, than a colleague in the law, 
 named Gori, who was a comic poet, too, "set out to 
 persecute him, even before he began to write," 1 and 
 to plagiarize his work as well ; but not until he re- 
 turned to Venice in 1748 with Medebac's provincial 
 players did serious hostilities with rivals and critics 
 break out. Elegant Anthony was considered "too 
 true and pungent," Goldoni declares; The Prudent 
 Man "had as much guile as discretion." Pancrazio 
 in The Venetian Twins "was a character to be con- 
 demned," while the newly arrived players, since sev- 
 eral of them had been performers on the tight-rope, 
 were dismissed as "a troupe of funambulists." These 
 patronizing strictures gave place to vehemence, how- 
 ever, when The Artful Widow carried the town by 
 storm, and no sooner had this sprightly comedy 
 scored a palpable hit than, to arrest the rising tide 
 of the newcomers' fortunes, the comedians of the San 
 Samuele staged The School for Widows (La Scuola 
 delle vedove), the premiere of which Goldoni thus 
 describes : 
 
 1 Preface to Vol. XIII, Pasquali edition. 
 
392 GOLDONI 
 
 Some one had told me it was to be a parody on my play. Not 
 at all; it was my Widow herself: the four foreigners of the same 
 nations, the same plot and the same procedure. Only the dia- 
 logue was changed, and that was filled with invectives and insults, 
 directed at my players and me. An actor would deliver a few 
 phrases of my original ; another would add : "Stupidities, stupidi- 
 ties!" They would repeat some clever sayings, some jokes from 
 my piece, then cry in chorus: "Nonsense, nonsense!" This work 
 did not cost the author much trouble; he had followed my plot 
 and my method, and his style was no happier than mine; yet, ap- 
 plause burst forth from all sides; the gibes, the satirical shafts 
 were emphasized by laughter, by shouts of bravo, by continuous 
 hand-claps; I was in my box, covered by my mask; I kept my 
 silence, and called the public ungrateful. 
 
 That public was not his public, however, as he 
 soon discovered, the theatre being packed with the 
 adherents of rival troupes. He had vowed never to 
 reply to critics, yet he thought it "would be cow- 
 ardly not to arrest this torrent that threatened to de- 
 stroy him"; therefore, hastening home, he plied his 
 pen "with rancour" throughout the night, until he had 
 composed a dialogue for three characters entitled, 
 An Apologetic Prologue for the Artful Widow 
 (Prologo apologetico della vedova scaltra). Seiz- 
 ing upon certain passages in The School for Widows, 
 in which foreigners were handled in a way contrary 
 to the delicacy with which they were treated by the 
 authorities, he endeavoured in this jeremiad, so he 
 says, to show the need for a police censorship of 
 plays. 
 
 When warned by Senator Antonio Condulmer, his 
 manager's patron, that if he published this Prologue, 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 393 
 
 he would incur the displeasure of the authorities, 
 Goldoni replied that if the government interfered, 
 he would go to some foreign country and issue it 
 there. Upon its appearance he had three thousand 
 copies of it distributed gratis in the theatres, coffee- 
 houses, and casini of Venice. Two days later, he 
 says, the State Inquisitors forbade the further per- 
 formance of The School for Widows, his own Art- 
 ful Widow "going on her way more brilliantly and 
 more affluently than ever." 2 "If the reader is curi- 
 ous to know the author of The School for Widows" 
 he continues, "I cannot satisfy him, for I shall never 
 mention by name the persons who have intended to 
 do me evil." The late Hermann von Lohner, how- 
 ever, unearthed among the annotations of the State 
 Inquisitors 3 the name of the author of The School 
 for Widows, who was none other than the Abate 
 Pietro Chiari, for many years Goldoni's rival for the 
 favour of the Venetian public, until Carlo GozzPs 
 attacks on both made allies of these contending dra- 
 matists. 
 
 Although Chiari had perhaps as many contempo- 
 rary partisans as Goldoni, his name survives only be- 
 cause it was linked with that of his great rival dur- 
 ing the dramatic war that was waged for years in 
 Venice between the forces of theatrical reform, led 
 by Goldoni, and the defenders of the Improvised 
 Comedy of whom, as we shall see, Carlo Gozzi was 
 
 2 Giuseppe Ortolan! (op. cit.) says the performances of La Fedova 
 scaltra were stopped, as well as those of its parody. 
 
 3 Archivio Veneto, Vol. XXIII. 
 
394 GOLDONI 
 
 the resourceful and unprincipled leader. Before he 
 stood shoulder to shoulder with him against the at- 
 tacks of Gozzi, Goldoni fought Chiari valiantly. 
 The latter, however, was the aggressor, and beneath 
 his standard were enlisted the actors and managers 
 of Venice with their friends and patrons, all of whom 
 resented the success of Medebac's upstart troupe, 
 made possible by its playwright's surpassing stage- 
 craft. 
 
 About the time he attacked Goldoni in The School 
 for Widows, Chiari made his Venetian debut at the 
 San Samuele theatre as the writer of a comedy, 4 the 
 actors of that playhouse being apparently glad to 
 welcome any one with the temerity to oppose Gol- 
 doni; for Chiari, it should be said, was a Brescian by 
 birth and in Venice a new-comer. Once a Jesuit, he 
 had been a Modenese schoolmaster, as well as a car- 
 dinal's secretary and an Arcadian poet, and when 
 he appeared in Venice he became a vile plagiarist, 
 not only Goldoni's plays, but also Costantini's Criti- 
 cal Letters, being filched by his unprincipled pen. 
 
 Chiari was essentially a man of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury, grappling, like Voltaire, with all human knowl- 
 edge ; yet only in the wide range and voluminousness 
 of his work does he resemble his great French con- 
 temporary. Although he produced tragedies, come- 
 dies, letters, satires, novels, philosophical, scientific, 
 political, and ethical treatises, drawing-room dia- 
 logues, parodies, sonnets, and epithalamia, Chiari 
 
 ^L'Awenturlere alia moda, which according to Giuseppe Ortolan! 
 was produced during the autumn of 1749. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 395 
 
 was a literary charlatan without genuine ideals or 
 ambitions, writing whatever would turn a penny. 
 By crowing loudly in the literary barnyard, he man- 
 aged to centre attention upon himself, even to the 
 extent of stealing Goldoni's laurels as the reformer 
 of Italian comedy. With his hand ever on the pub- 
 lic's pulse, he prescribed the momentary stimulant 
 that would quicken it. "An Italian without a coun- 
 try, a priest without religion, a writer without 
 ideas," 5 this Brescian ex-Jesuit plagiarized his way 
 into popularity, and disputed with Goldoni the dra- 
 matic ascendency in Venice, his tenet being that "at 
 public wells any one may draw water." From the 
 JEntid alone he drew three plays, its hero becoming 
 in his butchering hand a Captain Fracasso, Menelaus 
 a doting pantaloon, and Helen a prattling gadabout. 
 But the best grist came to his mill from Goldoni's 
 sprightly comedies; for whenever his brilliant 
 rival staged a success, Chiari rushed an imitation on 
 the boards of the San Samuele; thus to Moliere he 
 opposed Moliere, a Jealous Husband (Moliere, 
 marito geloso), clothed in the Martellian verse Gol- 
 doni had made popular. Not to be outdone by his 
 rival's Clever Woman, Chiari produced a play of the 
 same name, and contemporaneously with Pamela he 
 placed upon his stage Marianna; or, The Orphan 
 (Marianna o sia I'Orfana), his own lachrymose ver- 
 sion of Richardson's novel. No sooner had The Per- 
 sian Bride won a popular success by means of the 
 
 5 Giuseppe Ortolan! : op. cit. 
 
396 GOLDONI 
 
 sympathetic part of Hircana, the slave, than the Bres- 
 cian was ready to court approval with a Chinese Slave 
 (La Schiava Chinese), while Goldoni's English Phi- 
 losopher (II Filosofo ingles e) was quickly followed 
 by a Venetian Philosopher (II Filosofo veneziano) 
 and his Terence by a Plautus (II Plauto). More- 
 over, of the three versions of Voltaire's Scotch Girl 
 that were staged contemporaneously in Venice, one, 
 The Fair Pilgrim (La Bella pellegrina), was Chi- 
 ari's. 
 
 Though a bad plagiarist, he understood his public. 
 A man of debauched talent and with little skill in 
 comedy, he set himself to the task of playwriting as 
 to any other task, and because reform was in the air 
 he posed as a reformer. "Perhaps," as Giulio Ca- 
 prin says, 6 "he did not really love the stage, but his 
 romantic imagination inspired comedies between the 
 astounding and the pathetic which were not displeas- 
 ing to the public." He was by his own confession 
 "a merchant, not a pirate, who read the most cele- 
 brated authors not to pillage, but to imitate them." 7 
 Seldom, indeed, has a literary impostor victimized 
 his contemporaries so thoroughly, for in Venice the 
 charlatanism of this "dull and frantic abate," as Pro- 
 fessor Ortolani styles Chiari, was confounded with 
 Goldoni's art, a perversion of literary justice, due, it 
 may be added, more to the age than to Venetian de- 
 cadence. 
 
 The dramaturgic war that was declared when 
 
 e Op. cit. 7 Preface to La Vendetta amorosa. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 397 
 
 Chiari parodied The Artful Widow, waged fitfully 
 for ten years, and reached its height when Goldoni left 
 the Sant' Angelo theatre to work for its rival, the San 
 Luca, since no sooner did Medebac learn of his dra- 
 matist's defection, than he engaged Chiari to fill his 
 place. During the earlier years of these hostilities 
 the laurels were with Goldoni. Hopeful, rich in 
 imagination and experience, and sure, moreover, of 
 the truth of his dramatic ideals, he believed in his 
 ability to silence his enemies. At the very moment 
 when failure threatened to engulf him, he vowed that 
 he would write sixteen plays in a single year, and the 
 fulfilment of that boast was his triumph, for then the 
 public flocked to his standard, Chiari being forced 
 to retire from the field to rally his shattered forces. 
 But the pace Goldoni had set was too swift to be 
 maintained, and the public he wrote for too fickle 
 to remain loyal even to so valiant a hero; therefore, 
 Chiari soon retrieved his fortunes and by imitating 
 his rival was able to confound the issue and acclaim 
 himself "the sole and true restorer of the Italian 
 drama," though he condescendingly admitted that 
 some credit for the reform might be given Goldoni. 
 Literary and social Venice became divided into 
 two camps, the Chiaristas and the Goldonistas, who 
 bombarded each other with pasquinades and pam- 
 phlets, the coffee-houses, the streets, and even the pal- 
 aces being the scene of hostilities. Goldoni having 
 painted them in their true colours, the women flocked 
 to Chiari's standard, and in his ranks as well were 
 
398 GOLDONI 
 
 the poetasters and pamphleteers, some too dull to 
 judge of merit; some, like foul-mouthed Giorgio 
 Baflo, the licentious poet, talented enough to have 
 seen the error of their ways. This rivalry between 
 the two dramatists an anonymous rhymester of the 
 day paints vividly in these verses, their contest for 
 the favour of the public being likened to a regatta on 
 the Grand Canal : 
 
 Protection was Goldoni's gondola, 
 
 A worthy bark, indeed, though rudderless; 
 
 He is a man whose thoughts serve him as oars, 
 
 And he who lacks them, be it said, lacks much. 
 
 Chiari's virtues answer as his craft; 
 
 He rows not hard, yet rows. A sage is he, 
 
 Who bravely writes. This stands him in good stead. 
 
 One has more knack, the other takes more pains; 
 
 Yet, rowing calls for strength as well as skill. 
 
 Their moorings cast, Goldoni takes the lead, 
 
 Ten boat-lengths in advance, as many said; 
 
 By brawn Chiari would have forged ahead, 
 
 Had not a racing-skiff opposed his course. 
 
 It held him but a trice; his friends, because 
 
 Goldoni leads, to his assistance rally. 
 
 On, on Goldoni darts, straining his back. 
 
 Chiari bravely spurts ; in sad surprise 
 
 Goldoni sees his hated rival bump 
 
 His own bark's hastening poop with swifter prow. 
 
 This pleasing allegory represents the struggle of 
 the earlier years, when Goldoni enjoyed the favour of 
 the public, and Chiari was unable to equal him. 
 Continuing in the same vein, the anonymous satirist 
 describes the second stretch of the race. Here Chi- 
 ari, by adopting his rival's methods, made his boat 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 399 
 
 "speed like an arrow," even though the world said 
 that "to copy was to play the blockhead"; Chiari's 
 retort being that a skilful imitation of a good original 
 is not a copy, since he who imitates well the good 
 work of wise men, is an artist and not a fool, his own 
 imitations being as skilful as the work of a great 
 >ainter who copies Titian. After this critical di- 
 ;ression the allegory of the race is thus continued: 
 
 Let us turn to the boats as they were left: 
 
 Chiari now pulls on with speedier strokes; 
 
 Goldoni's, fewer, longer, easier, 
 
 And, equalling his foe's, as forceful are. 
 
 The judge's stand is reached ; yet neither leads. 
 
 On both the red flag falls; and I am bound 
 
 To say, the race is drawn, for both have won ! 
 
 When at the height of his rivalry with his noted 
 contemporary, Chiari made a triumphant visit to 
 Modena in 1754, where he had formerly been a 
 schoolmaster, and there he was acclaimed the re- 
 former of the Italian stage. Though his grandfather 
 was a Modenese, and though, broken in health from 
 his arduous work for the public, Goldoni had just 
 passed several weeks in Modena with his entire fam- 
 ily, that ungrateful town forswore him to honour a 
 vagrant in a stolen coat, for surely those lines written 
 by the Abate Vicini, court poet of Modena, fit Gol- 
 doni alone: 
 
 New ground to cultured Europe you exposed, 
 A comic world, Chiari, you disclosed. 8 
 
 8 In Delia vera poesla teatrale, etc. Vicini, it will be recalled, was 
 probably the Abate J.-B.-V., whose chastisement caused Goldoni to wish 
 
400 GOLDONI 
 
 The Brescian was praised in Modena, moreover, 
 for "banishing troublesome truth from the stage." 
 Hailed as a former citizen, he was given an ovation 
 in the Rangoni theatre, the title of court poet being 
 bestowed upon him by the reigning duke two years 
 before Goldoni was similarly honoured by the ruler 
 of Parma. 
 
 "Such indifference to Goldoni's comedies in so 
 short a time," exclaims a Modenese contemporary, 9 
 "when it seemed that the entire world had become a 
 band of fanatics in that great man's cause 1" This 
 writer, moreover, thus thrusts him aside as a man 
 who had served his purpose: 
 
 Certainly, no one will ever be able to take from Goldoni the 
 boast and the merit of having been the first to promote in our 
 day so great a good with such a will; but he has truly been too 
 much in haste. Desiring to give so many comedies each year is 
 going too far, and the wish to do too much has misled him. He 
 has chosen in some of his comedies characters that are not proper 
 either on the stage or in society; therefore, to present them, a par- 
 ticular kind of audience is necessary if modesty is not to be of- 
 fended. 
 
 Although lovers of fustian were unable to see that 
 the elegance they admired in Chiari was mere stilted- 
 ness, and the impropriety they condemned in Goldoni 
 the very naturalism that makes him live, Goldoni 
 
 to become a monk. While Goldoni was ill at Modena, Vicini assisted 
 him affectionately, but together with other Modenese poets and critics 
 took Chiari's side, when this dramatist was patriotically glorified. 
 Nevertheless, Goldoni bore Vicini no ill will, and dedicated La Villeg- 
 glatura to him. 
 
 9 Abate Francesco Fanti in a letter of Aug. 8, 1754, published in 
 Modena a Carlo Goldoni. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 401 
 
 himself understood Chiari's weakness. In The Dis- 
 contented (I Malcontenti), a comedy he wrote 
 while this rivalry still flourished, he cleverly satirized 
 the Brescian in these words, spoken by Grisologo, 
 one of its characters : 
 
 My style, which shall make me world-famous, consists in the 
 ability to say things in a vibrating, high-falutin, sonorous way, 
 full of metaphors and similes, by which means I rise now to the 
 starry skies, now skim the low-lying earth. ... I bind the tragic 
 and the comic together, and whenever I write in verse, I abandon 
 myself wholly to poetic passion, without heeding nature, which is 
 wont to be obeyed by others with excessive scruple. ... I apply 
 all my industry to the easy flow of metre, to the vibration of 
 rhyme, and you shall see with what workmanship I have woven 
 together the first verses in order to heighten the effect of the second. 
 
 But Goldoni was not left to fight his battles alone; 
 he, too, had ardent partisans, whom he is at pains to 
 name in his memoirs, even while silent regarding his 
 traducers. During his sojourn at Parma, his enemies 
 at home, it will be remembered, published the news 
 of his death, but when he returned safe and sound to 
 Venice, bearing a ducal appointment and possessing 
 a pension, which "excited the envy and anger of his 
 foes," there were men of letters who, as he says, "had 
 some consideration for him" and undertook his de- 
 fence. "Thus a war was declared," he exclaims, "in 
 which I became quite innocently the victim of angry 
 minds." 
 
 The friends Goldoni names as his defenders are the 
 Jesuit father Giambatista Roberti, a Bassanese poet 
 and philosopher; the Abate Sciugliaga, a Dalma- 
 
402 GOLDONI 
 
 tian, who not only defended him with his pen, but 
 who, years later, loaned him money as well; Count 
 Pietro Verri, a Milanese soldier, administrator, and 
 man of letters, who with his brother and some literary 
 intimates founded a coffee-house club in Milan with 
 a journal // Caff}, modelled upon Addison's Spec- 
 tator, as its mouthpiece; Nicolo Beregan, a patrician 
 poet, and Count Gasparo Gozzi, brother of the man 
 with whom he was soon to become embroiled in a 
 warfare of greater moment than that with Chiari. 
 Roberti and Beregan lauded Goldoni in stilted verse, 
 while Verri had the acumen to say in discriminating 
 prose that: 
 
 Goldoni's comedies rest in the first place on a basis of true vir- 
 tue, humanity, kindness, and love of duty which warms our 
 hearts with the pure flame that spreads wherever it finds fuel, and 
 distinguishes any one who calls himself a man of honour from a 
 vagabond. 
 
 Though friends rallied to his defence, and their 
 pamphlets and verses flooded Venice, Goldoni's name 
 would remain as unknown to-day as that of his paltry 
 rival, had not the victory been won by his own genius. 
 Chiari returned in triumph from Modena only to 
 lose the fight, for the dramatist who in the end pleased 
 the Venetians most, pleases posterity as well. During 
 the years that followed, Goldoni put forth his best 
 work, while failure after failure crowned his rival's 
 plagiaristic methods, until, as Goldoni confesses, 
 "poor Medebac was reduced to much fasting," he still 
 being Chiari's manager. 10 
 
 10 Letter to Arconati-Visconti, Oct. 30, 1756. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 403 
 
 But a storm was gathering to deluge both of these 
 warring dramatists, since in Carlo Gozzi they met a 
 foe so redoubtable that they were forced to become 
 allies, his venomous literary shafts being aimed at 
 Goldoni and Chiari alike. Indeed, in all literary 
 history there are few more rancorous attacks than 
 that delivered by Gozzi against these erstwhile ene- 
 mies. 
 
 This singular man, born in Venice in 1720, was a 
 bachelor and a poet, of so morose a nature that he was 
 greeted as the Bear, and known as the Solitary. Hav- 
 ing led a roving military life in Dalmatia during his 
 youth, he had returned to Venice, and there, in the 
 midst of lawsuits, had endeavoured unsuccessfully to 
 re-establish the family fortunes. Though he bore the 
 title of count and belonged to an honourable Venetian 
 family, he was not a patrician with the right of vot- 
 ing in the Grand Council. Like Gasparo Gozzi, his 
 weaker but more agreeable brother, whom he truly 
 loved even while reproving his faults, he plied his 
 pen assiduously ; yet he sneered at that brother for sell- 
 ing his writings. He was, however, no such castle- 
 builder as he is painted by Paul de Musset and Ver- 
 non Lee. On the contrary, to quote John Addington 
 Symonds : " 
 
 He was no dramatic dreamer and abstract visionary, but a keen, 
 hardheaded man of business, caustic in speech and stubborn in act, 
 adhering tenaciously to his opinions and his rights, acidly and sar- 
 donically humorous, eccentric, but fully aware of his eccentricities, 
 and apt to use them as the material of burlesque humour. 
 
 11 Op. cit. 
 
404 GOLDONI 
 
 It may be added that he was an implacable enemy. 
 His dramatic pieces, satirical poems, and prose com- 
 positions were mainly polemical; while two malig- 
 nant controversies have made his name survive his 
 writings. The first of these was the bitter war he 
 waged against Goldoni and Chiari ; the other a three- 
 cornered quarrel with Pier Antonio Gratarol over 
 an actress, which was complicated by a breach of 
 lover's faith on Gratarol's part against Caterina 
 Dolfin Tron, an influential though venomous patri- 
 cian woman. With this latter quarrel the present 
 work is not concerned; it was, however, the direct 
 cause for the writing of GozzPs memoirs, and shows 
 his partiality for actresses, whom it was his wont to 
 advise, direct, abuse, and teach, "while they danced 
 in rings around his leanness, encircling his silence 
 with whispers and his melancholy with peals of 
 laughter." 12 
 
 Carlo Gozzi delighted in quarrels, bile being the 
 very substance of his nature. Being incurably melan- 
 cholic, when not warring with some enemy he sought 
 lonely places for his halting steps, and in vain tried 
 to be cheerful by tickling himself in order that he 
 might laugh. At the age of seventy-seven he pub- 
 lished his autobiography, to which he gave the singu- 
 lar title: Useless Memoirs of the Life of Carlo 
 Gozzi, Written by Himself and Published from Mo- 
 tives of Humility (Memorie inutili dell a vita di 
 Carlo Gozzi scritte da lui medesimo e pubblicate per 
 
 12 Philippe Monnier: op. cit. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 405 
 
 umllta] . The object he had in mind in writing these 
 memoirs was to vindicate himself from the slurs Gra- 
 tarol had cast upon his character at the time of their 
 quarrel, but he tells as well the story of his dispute 
 with Goldoni and Chiari ; and since he enjoyed rare 
 facilities for the study of Venetian life, the scope of 
 his Useless Memoirs is far wider than the mere de- 
 tailing of personal and literary squabbles. Their 
 pages teem with descriptions of their author's private 
 life, and of his dealings with lawyers, brokers, Jews, 
 and all sorts of odd persons, while the more varied 
 pictures they present of literary, social, and stage life 
 make them a richer document for the study of Vene- 
 tian customs in the eighteenth century than Goldoni's 
 more restricted memoirs. Moreover, Gozzi reveals 
 his character in all its aspects, the particulars of his 
 love-affairs being frankly told, yet without the ab- 
 normality in this respect displayed by Casanova. 
 
 Such, in brief, was the character of the man with 
 whom Goldoni, after triumphing over Chiari, was 
 forced to cross swords for the sovereignty of the Vene- 
 tian stage. The war between these two writers so 
 opposite in character, was incited by their antipodal 
 convictions, Gozzi being an unyielding conservative 
 in both politics and thought, and therefore opposed by 
 nature to Gol'doni, the reformer, who was seeking to 
 dethrone the national Improvised Comedy with plays 
 constructed according to foreign principles. 
 
 A considerable number of Venetians had already 
 been carried away with the deism of Voltaire and 
 
406 GOLDONI 
 
 the Encyclopaedists, while French fashions were dis- 
 tinctly the vogue. Indeed, there were men like An- 
 gelo Querini bold enough to preach political reform 
 in the very shadow of the terrifying Inquisition of 
 State. In the drawing-rooms, coffee-houses, and 
 casini, French literature was discussed and French 
 fashions were aped; for in Venice, as elsewhere in 
 Europe, the foundations of the old order of things 
 were beginning to crumble under the weight of revo- 
 lutionary sentiment, French philosophy having in- 
 spired even in the hearts of the bourgeoisie and the 
 proletariat the hope that a new era was dawning. 
 Meanwhile, conservatives clung to their precon- 
 ceptions, the word prejudice being used freely by the 
 radicals in condemnation of every restraining influ- 
 ence in politics and morals, even the society of de- 
 crepit Venice being in the state of unrest that pre- 
 vailed throughout Europe, but more particularly in 
 France. Together with the old order of things, the 
 Improvised Comedy had become infirm, and together 
 with the inroad of French ideas and isms, a comedy 
 hitherto unknown to the Italians came into being un- 
 der the adept hand of Goldoni. Moreover, he had 
 satirized the nobles on the stage. So long as he con- 
 fined his reforms to the writing of a style of comedy 
 that heretofore had been extemporized, the conserva- 
 tives saw in him no great menace to the national stage, 
 but when, as in the case of Pamela and The Scotch 
 Girl he entered the lachrymose field of La Chaussee 
 and garnered foreign plots as well, he became in their 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 407 
 
 eyes a radical innovator, and when Chiari followed 
 suit, he too inspired conservative hate. 
 
 This Toryism found expression in a conserva- 
 tive academy, organized in 1747, under the ribald 
 name of Accademla Granellesca, of which Carlo 
 Gozzi was the inspiring genius. A witless little 
 priest with a tiny voice, named Giuseppe Secchellari, 
 was chosen as Arcigranellone^ or arch-big-simple- 
 ton, of this academy, and with mock reverence its 
 members placed a garland of plums upon his brow, 
 he being enthroned on a huge chair, which he fondly 
 believed to be the seat of the renowned Cardinal 
 Bembo of classic memory, while he was derided in 
 mock odes and flummery which he thought were pane- 
 gyrics. In the heat of summer, whilst the acade- 
 micians sipped cooling drinks, hot tea was given him 
 as a mark of superiority; and in winter, whilst they 
 drank coffee, he was served ice water, the miserable 
 arch-simpleton being forced to sweat or shiver ac- 
 cording to the season. When they tired of frolicking 
 at his expense, the academicians left him to drivel in 
 the chair of Bembo, while they discussed serious mat- 
 ters, the objects of the academy being to promote the 
 study of the best Italian authors, the simplicity and 
 harmony of refined style, and above all the purity of 
 the Italian language. In the pursuance of these wor- 
 thy purposes the Granelleschi fell foul of Goldoni, 
 who far from being a purist was considered by them 
 a radical, guilty of undermining the Italian drama. 
 
 13 Granello is a synonym of cogliono and both have the secondary mean- 
 ing of simpleton. 
 
408 GOLDONI 
 
 Besides Carlo Gozzi and his brother, Gasparo, this 
 academy counted among its members Giuseppe Bar- 
 etti the critic, Forcellini the litterateur, Lastenio the 
 polygraph, and many a lesser light, as well as a 
 sprinkling of dilettante patricians; but of all these 
 only Carlo Gozzi and Baretti attacked Goldoni 
 viciously. Indeed, Gasparo Gozzi was so well dis- 
 posed toward him that he not only criticized his work 
 favourably in the columns of the Gazzetta Veneta, but 
 also saw the Pasquali edition of his plays through the 
 press, after Goldoni had departed for France. 
 
 Carlo Gozzi, however, was an implacable host in 
 himself, to whose sour, conservative mind the Im- 
 provised Comedy was "the particular distinction of 
 the Italian nation." To this purist Goldoni appeared 
 to possess "poverty and meanness of intrigue," and as 
 a writer of Italian he seemed "not unworthy to be 
 placed among the dullest, basest, and least accurate 
 authors who have used our idiom." Chiari he con- 
 sidered "the most turgid, the most inflated writer of 
 the century," and though he acknowledged "the in- 
 finite superiority of Goldoni as a comic playwright," 
 he looked upon the "mania" created by these drama- 
 tists as "a fungus growth upon opinion, at best worthy 
 of laughter." 
 
 In the year 1756 14 while the rumour of GoldonFs 
 death was being spread abroad by his Venetian en- 
 emies, Carlo Gozzi wrote a sort of comic almanac 
 
 14 In his Memorle inutili Gozzi gives the date as 1757, but the first 
 edition of the Tartana, issued in Paris at the expense of Daniele Farsetti, 
 the patrician to whom it was dedicated, bears the date 1756. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 409 
 
 verse, entitled The Tartan of Influxes for Leap 
 Year 1756 (La Tartana degl' influssi per I'anno bi- 
 sestile 1756), in which he set forth in octaves the 
 various impending woes of Venice, written, as he 
 avers, "in strictly literary Tuscan, in a style inspired 
 by that of the ancient Tuscan authors." 
 
 Modelled on an annual almanac for country-folk 
 issued at Treviso, The Tartan was supposed to bear to 
 Venice its monthly influx of troubles. February 
 dealt with comedies, November with Martellian 
 verses, and for December the speedy return from Por- 
 tugal of Antonio Sacchi, the harlequin, and his com- 
 rades was invoked a desire soon fulfilled owing to 
 the great earthquake at Lisbon. In a sonnet that 
 ended The Tartan, Goldoni and Chiari were men- 
 ioned by name, the author declaring himself the inex- 
 orable enemy of their new-fangled plays and the 
 intrepid friend of the Improvised Comedy. Goaded 
 by this attack, Goldoni so far departed from his usual 
 discretion as to reply in some occasional verses writ- 
 ten to welcome a friend upon his return from a rec- 
 torship in the provinces, wherein, to quote Gozzi's 
 aspersion, "he vented this commonplace rigmarole" : 
 
 In print I've seen a Tartan drag 
 
 A load of verses, sour and dull 
 Enough to terrify a hag; 
 
 With plagiarism sauced and full 
 Of acrid salt and arrogance. 
 
 In one whose luck is on the wane, 
 Such license to forgive, perchance, 
 
 Is just, when fickle fortune fain 
 
4 io GOLDONI 
 
 Would turn on him. Yet he who speaks 
 
 With evil argument and fails 
 In boastful words, with pride atune, 
 
 To prove the insolence he rails, 
 Acts like a dog who bays the moon. 
 
 Upon the appearance of this justifiable answer 
 to The Tartan, a battle of pamphlets, sonnets, and 
 squibs ensued in which Gozzi, "whose heart," as Sig- 
 nor Caprin says, 15 "was partly quixotic and partly 
 ruffian," descended to obscenity and ribald personali- 
 ties, whereupon Goldoni pungently and, it may be 
 added, truthfully dubbed him : 
 
 A Lombard acting in a Cruscan's part, 
 Smiles on his lip, and venom in his heart. 16 
 
 The part Gozzi is here accused of assuming, is that 
 of a member of the Accademia della Grusca, which in 
 Florence during the sixteenth century attacked Tasso 
 for the impurity of his Italian. Crusca means bran 
 or chaff, and the symbol of this academy was a sieve, 
 in which the chaff remained after the good flour, or 
 worthy literary products, had passed through. An- 
 swering meekly the accusation made by Gozzi and the 
 Granelleschi, that he was neither a poet nor a scholar, 
 Goldoni thus alludes to the sieve through which Tas- 
 so's writings had been maliciously sifted : 
 
 I know too well I'm not an able scribe 
 And that from worthy founts I ne'er imbibe: 
 
 15 Op. cit. 
 
 16 In La Tavola rotonda, verses written on the occasion of the wedding 
 of Pietro Contarini and Maria Venier. In Delll Componimenti diversi, 
 Pasquali ed., Vol. II. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 411 
 
 As reason and my style dictate, I write; 
 And pleasure, by good luck, I oft incite. 
 Alas, if critics through trie Tuscan sieve 
 Should strain my humble works, they could not live. 
 
 To this Gozzi replied with a sonnet, in which he 
 stated that he was preparing "a commentary that 
 ld prove both the assumption and the argument/' 
 and soon he circulated throughout Venice a satirical 
 composition entitled The Comic Theatre at the Pil- 
 grim 's Inn, handled by the Granelleschian A cad- 
 emicians (II Teatro comic o all' Osteria del Pelle- 
 grino tra le mani degli accademici granelleschi}. 
 Conceived in an Aristophanic vein, this satire repre- 
 sents the Granelleschi dining during the carnival at 
 the Pilgrim's Inn in the Piazza San Marco, where 
 their pleasures are interrupted by the entrance of a 
 monstrous creature wearing a mask of four strongly 
 marked and dissimilar faces, "each typical of a style 
 of comedy written by Goldoni" his earlier harle- 
 quinades inspired by the Improvised Comedy, his 
 lachrymose comedies in the style of La Chaussee, his 
 oriental melodramas, and his Venetian naturalistic 
 comedies. In the monster's belly there is a fifth 
 mouth, which utters Goldoni's views, as Gozzi meanly 
 interprets them, and in the dialogue that ensues, this 
 choleric foe endeavours to prove that Goldoni "had 
 striven to gain popularity rather by changing the as- 
 pect of his wares than by any merit they really pos- 
 sessed." He argued unjustly that although Goldoni 
 displayed talent in composing Venetian dialogue, he 
 
4 i2 GOLDONI 
 
 nevertheless incited vice "while praising virtue with 
 the dulness of a tiresome sermon," his plays being 
 "a hundred times more lascivious, more indecent, and 
 more injurious to morals" than the time-honoured 
 mask comedies they sought to supplant. The out- 
 come Gozzi thus describes : 
 
 The monstrous mask defended itself but poorly, and at last fell 
 to abusing me personally with all its four mouths at once. This 
 did not serve it ; and when I had argued it down and exposed it to 
 the contempt of the Granelleschi, it lifted up its clothes in front 
 and exhibited a fifth mouth, which it carried in the middle of its 
 stomach. This fifth allegorical mouth raised up its voice and 
 wept, declaring itself beaten, and begging for mercy. 17 
 
 The proof of Gozzi's bias lies in the charge of 
 obscenity and immorality which he brings against 
 wholesome Goldoni, perhaps the most moral drama- 
 tist of all time. Gozzi's cause was "the purity of 
 literature," yet when he began to write for the stage 
 himself, he displayed more obscenity in his first play 
 than is to be found in all his rival's comedies ; while 
 in the pasquinades he directed against his foe, he de- 
 scends to a baseness and indecency wholly foreign to 
 Goldoni's finer nature. The Comic Theatre at the 
 Pilgrim's Inn was deemed so ribald that its author 
 was urged to withdraw it from circulation, a request 
 in which he acquiesced reluctantly, while continuing 
 to bombard both Goldoni and Chiari with shorter 
 diatribes. Chiari challenged Gozzi and the Gran- 
 elleschi to produce a play. Hunger drove Goldoni 
 
 17 Memorle inutili, translated by J. A. Symonds. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 413 
 
 and Chiari to the writing of comedies, Gozzi re- 
 torted, and since the Granelleschi were not hungry, 
 it was not necessary for them to become playwrights ; 
 whereupon Chiari, making common cause with Gol- 
 doni, addressed him as "most worthy bard of comedy 
 and poet-friend," a compliment Goldoni repaid in 
 kind, though not without a tinge of irony, in these 
 verses : 
 
 You are the eagle proud, 
 
 The ant am I : 
 
 E'en to the highest cloud 
 
 With ease you fly; 
 
 My muse ill bears the strain, 
 
 The cardinal points to gain. 
 
 Chiari, whose star was waning, was eager to league 
 himself with Goldoni; and in the Gazzetta Veneta, 
 of which he had become the editor, 18 he averred that 
 he and his rival "might be seen walking together in 
 the public piazza and sitting in the most frequented 
 coffee-houses." Although Goldoni and he had "ap- 
 parently been foes," he contended that "even in the 
 councils of Apollo politics were known"; hence, 
 "what appeared to be opposition and enmity was 
 merely laudable rivalry," planned by Goldoni and 
 himself for the purpose of getting "more followers for 
 their respective flags, more money in their theatres, 
 and more applause from the world." "Who will 
 deny," he continues, "that their enmity was a fine 
 piece of politics?" 
 
 This subtle explanation of a quarrel that had lasted 
 
 18 Achilla Neri in the Ateneo veneto, Jan.-Feb., 1907. 
 
 
4 i4 GOLDONI 
 
 ten years coincides with Symonds's suggestion that 
 "the alliance these dramatists had struck took off con- 
 siderably from their vogue." In the dramatic race, 
 however, Chiari had been distanced ; therefore, by be- 
 coming the victor's ally, he was able to advertise 
 himself again ; for in spite of Gozzi's attacks, the play- 
 goers still flocked to see Goldoni's comedies. More- 
 over, the latter's fame had spread not only through- 
 out Italy, but abroad as well, Voltaire having already 
 enlisted in his cause. A finer and a fairer critic than 
 Gozzi, this great Frenchman had divined Goldoni's 
 naturalistic genius, for while the Venetian war of 
 diatribes was at its height, he had indited these verses 
 in a letter to the Marquis Albergati-Capacelli (June 
 19, 1760), which this admirer of Goldoni permitted 
 to be published in the Gazzetta Veneta: 
 
 On baiting noted men of parts 
 
 They plume themselves in cultured lands. 
 
 Goldoni sees abusive darts 
 
 Aimed at his friends by critics' hands. 
 
 They know not by what gauge to test 
 The value of his works; in fact 
 In this procedure they request 
 Dame Nature as the judge to act. 
 
 Thus Nature ably judged the cause 
 'Twixt critics who could not agree: 
 Though every author has his flaws, 
 This man Goldoni pictured me." 
 
 When Goldoni thus became an international figure, 
 Gozzi whetted his knife anew. It behoved him to 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 415 
 
 act with more aggressiveness; therefore, he boldly 
 planned to attack his enemy upon his own ground, 
 the stage. "The dropping fire that had been ex- 
 changed between their partisans," says Gozzi, "kept 
 the names and fames of Goldoni and Chiari before 
 the public." As both "professed themselves cham- 
 pions of theatrical reform," and as their aim, as he 
 states it, was to "cut the throat of the innocent Corn- 
 media delT arte" Gozzi felt that he "could not casti- 
 gate the arrogance of these self-styled Menanders bet- 
 ter than by taking his old friends Truffaldino, 
 Tartaglia, Brighella, Pantalone, and Smeraldina un- 
 der his protection." 
 
 The headquarters of the Granelleschi were in the 
 bookshop of Paolo Colombani, where every month 
 they issued under the title of Atti granelleschi a series 
 of critical and satirical papers, which "drew crowds 
 of purchasers round Colombani's counter." There 
 Gozzi opened fire, so he says, "with a dithyrambic 
 poem, praising the extempore comedians, and com- 
 paring their gay farces favourably with the dull and 
 heavy pieces of the reformers." One day, accord- 
 ing to Baretti, 19 Goldoni and Gozzi "met in a book- 
 shop," which probably was Colombani's, "the oc- 
 casion being propitious for the venting of satirical 
 bile." Both Baretti and Gozzi accuse Goldoni 
 of boastful arrogance during the verbal affray that 
 ensued; yet, both being his enemies, it seems 
 likely that their evidence is considerably col- 
 
 19 An Account of the Manners and Customs of Italy. 
 
4i6 GOLDONI 
 
 oured by their spleen. 20 "Goldoni called me a ver- 
 bose word-monger," Gozzi avers, "and kept asserting 
 that the enormous crowds that flocked to the enjoy- 
 ment of his plays constituted a convincing proof of 
 their essential merit, it being one thing to compose 
 verbal criticisms, and quite another to write plays 
 which will fill theatres with enthusiastic audiences." 
 "Vexed by this appeal to popular judgment," says 
 Gozzi, "I uttered the deliberate opinion that crowded 
 theatres proved nothing with regard to the goodness 
 or badness of the plays which people came to see ; and 
 I further staked my reputation on drawing more folk 
 together than he could do with all his scenic tricks, 
 by simply putting the old wives' fairy-story of the 
 Love of the Three Oranges upon the boards." 21 
 
 Undaunted by the incredulous laughter that greeted 
 his quixotic challenge, Gozzi, "to vindicate the hon- 
 our of the Granelleschi," wrote a fantastic piece 
 around the old wives' tale in question, which with his 
 vaunted disregard for royalties, he presented to 
 Sacchi who, since his return from Portugal, had been 
 giving mask comedies in Venice with ill success. 
 This actor produced it during the Carnival of 1761, 
 at the San Samuele theatre, where it created, accord- 
 ing to its author, "such a sudden and noisy revolution 
 of taste, that Chiari and Goldoni saw in it the sentence 
 of their doom." 
 
 20 Baretti being in England at the time, writes from hearsay knowl- 
 edge, while Gozzi's account was penned years after the event. 
 
 21 Memorie inutili, translated by J. A. Symonds, whose admirable Eng- 
 lish renderings of Gozzi have been used throughout this chapter. 
 
GOLDONI IN COLOMBANI'S BOOK SHOP 
 
 Collection of Professor Italic o Brass 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 417 
 
 The Love of the Three Oranges (L'Amore delle 
 ire melarancie), as Gozzi styled his play, was a Nea- 
 politan fairy tale, translated to the stage in the man- 
 ner made familiar to English audiences by Christmas 
 pantomimes, except that the masks, instead of ap- 
 pearing in a mute harlequinade after the story has 
 been told, are characters in the play itself, Pantalone 
 being a king's adviser; Brighella, or the modern 
 clown, a prince's servant; Truffaldino, or Harlequin, 
 a jester; and Smeraldina, or Columbine, an intriguing 
 Moorish maid. Another of the characters of the Im- 
 provised Comedy, Tartaglia, the stammerer, is a mel- 
 ancholy prince whose father, Silvio, King of Dia- 
 monds, rules an imaginary realm, his minister being 
 Lelio, the Knave of Diamonds, a villain who plots 
 Prince Tartaglia's death in order that he may marry 
 Princess Clarice, the king's niece, and inherit the 
 throne. 
 
 The people of Venice who, on a carnival night 
 were attracted to the San Samuele theatre by the 
 strange announcement that a familiar nursery tale was 
 to be staged, were taken, as Philippe Monnier says, 22 
 "to the land where everything happens, where the 
 Blue Bird nests." When the curtain rose, the King 
 of Diamonds, dressed as they had seen him on their 
 playing-cards, was discovered in consultation with 
 time-honoured Pantalone about a mysterious malady 
 that prevented Prince Tartaglia from laughing and 
 was slowly encompassing his death. The prince had 
 
 22 Op. cit. 
 
418 GOLDONI 
 
 been poisoned, said Pantalone, by Lelio's agent, Fata 
 Morgana, the sorceress, with charms in Martellian 
 Ver se, a hit at Chiari and Goldoni, whose Martellian 
 verses "bored every one to death," Gozzi said, "by 
 their monotonous rhyme." As an antidote to the 
 morbid influences of Martellian verse, Fata Mor- 
 gana's enemy, the wizard Celio, sends to King Silvio's 
 court the jester, Truffaldino, the mere sight of whom 
 was sure to provoke laughter. Fata Morgana, the 
 sorceress, and Celio, the wizard, were caricatures of 
 Chiari and Goldoni respectively, and their hostility 
 symbolizes the warfare that had waged for so many 
 years between the two dramatists. When Truffal- 
 dino tried unsuccessfully to make the prince laugh, 
 to quote GozzPs own vulgarity in evidence of his mal- 
 ice: 
 
 He smelt the prince's breath, and swore that it stank of a sur- 
 feit of undigested Martellian verses. The prince coughed and 
 asked to be allowed to spit. Truffaldino brought him a vessel, 
 examined the expectoration and found it a mass of rancid, rotten 
 rhymes. 
 
 All through this extravaganza, or theatrical fable 
 (fiaba teatrale), as Gozzi styled his dramatic form, 
 there were coarse thrusts at Goldoni and Chiari ; but 
 the audience, even if it cared little for its rancour, 
 delighted in its whimsicalities, its medley of harle- 
 quinades, satire, and nursery tales, for side by side 
 with Gozzi's attack upon his enemies a tale of en- 
 chantment was unfolded. Melancholy Prince Tar- 
 taglia, shod with a pair of magic iron shoes, sets forth 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 419 
 
 with Truffaldino in search of the three oranges which, 
 as he had heard his grandmother say, were two thou- 
 sand miles away, in the power of Creonta, a gigantic 
 witch. Tartaglia and Truffaldino are wafted by a 
 mighty wind to her domain; where after a series of 
 strange adventures Truffaldino succeeds in plucking 
 the three oranges, which he had been charged by 
 Celio, the wizard, not to open, except within reach 
 of water. When he cuts the first, a beautiful maiden 
 is born, who withers and dies for lack of a drink, 
 and in his anxiety to slake her thirst, he cuts the sec- 
 ond orange and liberates another maiden, who like- 
 wise breathes her last. 
 
 Just when Truffaldino is on the point of cutting the 
 third orange in the hope that its juice will revive the 
 two maidens who have perished, Prince Tartaglia 
 wrenches it from his grasp, carries it to the shore of 
 a lake, opens it with the point of his sword, and 
 quenches the thirst of the enchanted princess appear- 
 ing from its rind, with water borne to her rosy lips 
 in one of his magic shoes. He marries her, it is need- 
 less to add, after outwitting all his enemies, Truffal- 
 dino being charged by Celio, the wizard, "to keep 
 Martellian verses, those inventions of the devil, out 
 of all dishes served at the royal board." Then, to 
 quote the petulant author of this fantasy: 
 
 The play wound up with that marriage festival which all chil- 
 dren know by heart the banquet of preserved radishes, skinned 
 mice, stewed cats, and so forth. And inasmuch as the journalists 
 were wont in those days to blow their trumpets of applause over 
 
420 GOLDONI 
 
 every new work which appeared from Signor Goldoni's pen, we 
 concluded with an epilogue, in which the spectators were besought 
 to use all their influence with these journalists, in order that a 
 crumb of eulogy might be bestowed upon our rigmarole of mystical 
 absurdities. 
 
 The fight between Gozzi and Goldoni, which cul- 
 minated in the production of The Love of the Three 
 Oranges, was really a preliminary skirmish in the 
 long war that soon waged throughout Europe be- 
 tween classicism and romanticism, for although Gozzi 
 was inspired by a conservative love of the old Impro- 
 vised Comedy, the fiabesque drama by which he 
 expressed it was superlatively romantic; whereas 
 Goldoni's naturalistic comedies were classic in their 
 simplicity and truth. Though his admiration for 
 linguistic purity was pedantic, Gozzi taxed his inven- 
 tiveness in order to appear formless, the supernatural 
 being his element, poetry his passion, and pure enter- 
 tainment his object. Goldoni on the other hand, 
 though in nowise a bookish man, conformed more 
 closely to classicism. Being an observer who loved 
 human nature, he served the truth and sought at the 
 same time to further morality by teaching wholesome 
 lessons, differing thereby mainly in sublimity of sub- 
 ject and loftiness of expression from the dramatists 
 of ancient Greece. Gozzi, however, did not declare 
 himself the purely romantic poet he has been ac- 
 claimed to be by romantic enthusiasts in Germany 
 and France, his romanticism being the unconscious 
 outcome of his spleen, as well as of his satirical sense 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 421 
 
 of humour; since in the avidity with which he pur- 
 sued Goldoni and Chiari his Euripides and Aga- 
 thon he was, as Symonds has pointed out, 23 "a Vene- 
 tian Aristophanes whose crusade against the stage of 
 his day was not set on foot to further the cause of 
 romantic beauty, but rather to assuage his own milW 
 tant sarcasm." 
 
 Those who saw for the first time The Love of the 
 Three Oranges, found in it a novelty as appealing 
 to their mystic sense as the symbolized moral plati- 
 tudes of Maeterlinck's Blue Bird are to modern au- 
 diences; yet Scala's extravaganzas had satisfied in the 
 previous century a similar fondness for elaborate 
 stage effects and fairy mysticism, a proof that nothing 
 under the theatrical sun is really new. The incon- 
 stant Venetians, so Baretti testifies, forgot the eager- 
 ness with which they had once acclaimed Goldoni and 
 Chiari "in order to mock them while loudly applaud- 
 ing The Three Oranges"; and nightly the San Samu- 
 ele theatre was packed to its doors, while Goldoni's 
 former associates, Antonio Sacchi and Cesare 
 D'Arbes, made light of him. 
 
 For several years Gozzi continued to delight his 
 countrymen with his whimsicalities, The Love of the 
 Three Oranges being followed by nine other theatri- 
 cal fables from his fanciful pen. 24 Meanwhile, Giu- 
 
 23 Op. cit. 
 
 24 // Corvo, 1761; // Re cervo, Turandot, La Donna serpente (original 
 of Wagner's Die Feen), all of 1762; Zobeide, 1763; I Pitocchi fortunati 
 and // Mostro turchino, of 1764; UAngellino belverde, and Zeim, re de* 
 genii, of 1765. 
 
422 GOLDONI 
 
 seppe Baretti, the friend of Johnson and Garrick, re- 
 turned to his native land and established in Venice a 
 short-lived, venomous review, to which he gave the 
 testy name of Literary Scourge (Frusta letterana). 
 An apostle of romanticism and the panegyrist of 
 Shakespeare, this "Italian Lessing" divined in the 
 half real, half fantastic theatrical fables of his fellow 
 Granelleschian a certain affinity with Shakespeare's 
 fanciful comedies, such as The Tempest, which made 
 their author appear to his biased mind the greatest 
 dramatic poet of Italy. Meanwhile he lashed Gol- 
 doni, the naturalist, whom Voltaire, his foe, had ex- 
 alted: "the most vulgar of Italian writers, seeking to 
 play the philosopher and moralist without having 
 studied either philosophy or morals," "a poisoner of 
 the public," "a parrot who repeats what he does not 
 understand," being part of the opprobrium Baretti 
 applied to the author of The Boors and The Chiog- 
 glan Brawls. Goldoni's art was too simple and nat- 
 ural to be understood by the critics of that artificial 
 century. Only a few broad-minded men, such as Vol- 
 taire and Cesarotti, a Paduan poet and man of letters, 
 were able to view it justly. 
 
 But the pacific man, to whom the long literary war- 
 fare he had been forced against his will to wage was 
 a bitter torment, had fled to France before Baretti 
 began to lash him in his Literary Scourge. 2 * About 
 the time Carlo Gozzi's theatrical fables began to wean 
 
 25 Baretti did not begin publishing The Scourge until the autumn of 
 1762, and in the spring of that year Goldoni had already left Venice. 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 423 
 
 his countrymen from their love for him, Goldoni was 
 offered a two years' engagement as playwright by 
 Les Comedlens du roi de la troupe italienne, who 
 since Moliere's day had been playing in Paris at the 
 Hotel de Bourgogne. This invitation, which was 
 transmitted to him officially by the French ambassa- 
 dor in Venice, gave him an opportunity to retreat 
 with honour from the field where his arch-enemy had 
 triumphed. He foresaw that to expatriate himself, 
 even for so short a period as two years, would make 
 it hard for him ever to compete again for the favour 
 of the Venetian public ; yet, after delighting his coun- 
 trymen with fully a hundred comedies during the 
 fourteen arduous years he had served them, he saw 
 them desert en masse to his enemy's camp the moment 
 the banner of novelty was unfolded there. As Gol- 
 doni himself says, his position was precarious. He 
 tried in vain to secure a legal preferment, and like- 
 wise a pension from the Venetian republic, to support 
 him during "the sad days of old age" ; all he could 
 obtain was a suspension for "the period of his stay in 
 France" of a ten years' contract he had signed with 
 Vendramin in 1756 ; whereupon, having received per- 
 mission of his patron, the Duke of Parma, to leave 
 Italy, he accepted the French engagement, and pre- 
 pared to set out for Paris. 
 
 Soon the rumour spread throughout the coffee- 
 houses and casini that "papa Goldoni" was about to 
 leave Venice. When he heard this welcome news, 
 Carlo Gozzi was probably not obliged to tickle him- 
 
424 GOLDONI 
 
 self in order to smile; but the valiant man he had 
 vanquished did not retire from the field of his defeat 
 in a spirit of rancour. Loving his inconstant fellow- 
 countrymen too dearly to bear them any ill will, Gol- 
 doni wrote as his farewell to them one of those natur- 
 alistic plays in the Venetian dialect, that are peculiar 
 to his genius. 
 
 Though he called it One of the Last Evenings of the 
 Carnival (Una delle ultime sere dl carnovale), this 
 simple picture of Venetian life belies its name, since, 
 instead of carnival joy, a spirit of sadness pervades 
 it. This dramatic trifle is not a play, but rather an 
 allegory, in which the author symbolizes his depar- 
 ture from the land of his birth. The story is con- 
 cerned with the fortunes of Anzoletto, a designer of 
 patterns for silk fabrics, who receives the offer of a 
 remunerative engagement abroad, which he reluc- 
 tantly accepts. With a heavy heart he bids farewell 
 to the weavers for whose looms he has so long de- 
 signed the patterns; and to the Venetians who at- 
 tended its first performance the allegory that lies in 
 this simple picture of Venetian life was evident. 
 The weavers symbolized the actors of the San Luca 
 theatre, and the designer of patterns, the dramatist 
 himself, now called to labour in a foreign land. 
 When the actor playing Anzoletto turned to his com- 
 rades upon the stage and lisped these lines, tears must 
 have welled in the eyes of many a zentlldonna who 
 had belittled Goldoni to her circle of friends, and 
 
RIVALS AND CRITICS 425 
 
 many a pamphleteer must have blushed for the abuse 
 he had heaped upon his devoted head: 
 
 Forget this country, this my beloved native land ? Forget my pa- 
 trons, my dear friends ? This is not the first time that I have gone 
 away, and wherever I have been, I have always carried the name of 
 Venice engraven on my heart. I have always remembered the fa- 
 vours, the kindnesses I have received ; I have ever longed to return, 
 and when I have returned, it has always been a consolation. Every 
 comparison I have had occasion to draw has made my country seem 
 more beautiful, more splendid, and more worthy of respect. Each 
 time I returned I discovered new beauties, and so it will be this 
 time, if Heaven permits me to return. I swear upon my honour 
 that I leave with a tortured heart; that no attraction, no good 
 fortune I may meet, will compensate for being far from those who 
 wish me well. Preserve your love for me, dear friends, and may 
 heaven bless you. I say so from the heart. 
 
 Touched by the fervour of this farewell speech, 
 friend and foe alike arose as one man on that Shrove 
 Tuesday evening of the year 1762, to shout: "Good- 
 bye, Goldoni ! A lucky journey to you ! Remember 
 your promise! Don't fail to come back!" The 
 weary dramatist to whom these Venetians, ere they 
 mingled in mask and domino with the carnival 
 throng outside, shouted a fond farewell, burst into 
 tears as he stood listening in the wings to their friendly 
 shouts. "Come back, Goldoni! Don't fail to come 
 back!" cried the laggards, as the crowd filed out of the 
 San Luca theatre; but the disheartened man of fifty- 
 five, who stood alone upon the stage, though he wept 
 while the lean candle-snuffers put out the lights, and 
 fondly prayed that he might return, never saw his 
 
426 GOLDONI 
 
 beloved Venice again. One of the Last Evenings of 
 the Carnival was the name he had chosen for the 
 touching allegory with which he bade farewell to the 
 city of his love. "Shunless destiny" made it the last 
 he was to enjoy in his native land. But before the 
 story of the thirty years he passed in France is told, an 
 account must be given of the plays he wrote in verse 
 during the fourteen years he served Medebac and 
 the Vendramins ; for in some of these he rebuked the 
 rivals and critics whose bitterness had driven him 
 into exile. 
 
XIII 
 
 COMEDIES IN VERSE 
 
 IF the authorship of two thousand or more plays 
 was not attributed to Lope de Vega, and to Alex- 
 andre Hardy that of fully six hundred, Goldoni, 
 in the language of the day, would hold the world's 
 record in dramaturgy. Although his output of two 
 hundred and fifty or more dramatic pieces is dwarfed 
 by the work of these progenitors of the Spanish and 
 French drama, themselves contemporaneous, his 
 fecundity is astonishing, ay, even appalling, to the 
 reader of the present day, accustomed to regard 
 Shakespeare and Moliere as prolific dramatists. In- 
 deed his comedies in verse, which form the subject 
 of the present chapter, fairly vie in number with 
 all the plays of the one, and equal those of the other. 
 In this count, moreover, his tragedies, operas, inter- 
 ludes, and merry plays for music, all of which are 
 metrical, are not included, while his occasional verse 
 alone exceeds in quantity the work of many a modern 
 poet. 
 
 The object of poetry being to create intellectual 
 pleasure by means of either imagery or passionate 
 language, Goldoni's verse may seldom be called 
 poetry. It is simple and natural, yet so scantily 
 
 427 
 
428 GOLDONI 
 
 adorned with imagery that its prosaic nakedness is 
 ill concealed. Passion such as Moliere voiced in 
 Alceste, his misanthrope, is foreign to Goldoni's 
 merry soul; therefore it seems futile to regard this 
 genial Venetian in the light of a true poet. Indeed, 
 he is merely a nimble versifier, who wrote plays in 
 metrical form whenever theatrical exigencies de- 
 manded them, or whenever he felt called upon to imi- 
 tate French refinement. His occasional verse, more- 
 over, was written to repay obligations, rather than 
 to express the feelings of a heart overflowing with 
 sentiment. Like the verse of his comedies it was 
 penned, as if to order, whenever there was a marriage 
 in the family of some friend or patron, or whenever 
 the daughter of such a family took the veil. 
 
 Although the stanzas of these occasional verses 
 teem with trite praise of benefactors, Goldoni's nat- 
 uralism now and then appears; in The Gondola 
 (La Gondola], for instance, a humorous dialogue be- 
 tween a Florentine coachman and a Venetian gondo- 
 lier concerning the marriage of one of GoldonPs pa- 
 trons, and in The Padua Packet (II Burchiello di 
 Padova) written in honour of the wedding of an- 
 other. In the latter the author, taking passage on a 
 boat that plies upon the placid Brenta, describes his 
 fellow-voyagers so truly and converses with them 
 so ingenuously, that the reader feels himself to be 
 aboard that Padua packet, pulled by the swarthy 
 oarsmen of the remurchio, or towboat, along "the 
 tranquil and serene lagoon." Yet the reader must 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 429 
 
 turn many a commonplace page of this occasional 
 verse before his weary attention is rested by such de- 
 lights as this; turn, too, many pages of affected verse 
 delivered before the Arcadian academies of Rome, 
 Pisa, and Bologna. Here Goldoni joined "Arcadia 
 itself, its legion of poets, its bevies of shepherdesses, 
 semi-nymphs, semi-nuns its naiads, fauns, and 
 pythian priestesses," and with them "faded into the 
 inane from which like a vapour they had emerged." 1 
 In justice it must be said that apparently he did not 
 take these occasional poems seriously. In the pref- 
 ace to the volume in which they appear, he says that 
 they are merely "pleasantries in verse, improperly 
 termed poems; for Divine Poetry should be treated 
 differently, and I love and venerate her too much to 
 misuse her name and charming attributes." This 
 may be only becoming modesty; yet his own estimates 
 of his plays are so frankly made in the pages of his 
 memoirs, that it seems unfair to suspect him of a 
 sneaking regard for efforts one is glad to join him in 
 dismissing as "merely pleasantries in verse." 
 
 His comedies in verse may be taken more seriously, 
 for here he stands upon more solid ground. True, 
 he never rises to poetic heights, even in these plays ; 
 yet unadorned as his dramatic verses are with ima- 
 gery and passion, they are neatly turned at times and 
 frequently disclose the naturalistic qualities on which 
 his fame most surely rests. Like his comedies in 
 prose, they were written at fever-heat, therefore their 
 
 1 William Roscoe Thayer: op. cit. 
 
 
430 GOLDONI 
 
 lines are often slovenly and in the main are little more 
 than rhymed prose ; nevertheless a few of his comedies 
 in verse, notably those penned in the Venetian dia- 
 lect, vie in spontaneity and truth to nature with his 
 best prose comedies. As in the case of his dramatic 
 work in prose, he is at his highest when painting the 
 life of Venice, and at his lowest when trying to imi- 
 tate Moliere, or the French refinement of his own 
 day. His comedies in verse fall naturally, too, into 
 the categories into which the prose comedies have 
 been divided in the present work Exotic Comedies, 
 Comedies of the Aristocracy, Comedies of the Bour- 
 geoisie, and Comedies in the Venetian Dialect 
 
 Three of the comedies in verse, however, stand 
 apart from any of the prose comedies in that they 
 treat of the lives of classic poets. Called respect- 
 ively Moliere (II Moliere), Terence (II Terenzio), 
 and Torquato Tasso (II Torquato Tasso), these three 
 comedies, by far the most ambitious of all Goldoni 
 penned, show more conclusively than any, that, how- 
 ever fluent as a versifier, he was not a poet in the 
 true sense. Having chosen such exalted subjects he 
 should have soared to the empyrean; yet though he 
 laboured painfully to rise, the very weight of his 
 task kept him hovering near the prosy earth he had 
 not the ability to leave entirely. 
 
 Though in subject chronologically the last, Mo- 
 liere was the first of these biographical comedies to 
 be penned. Being considered fully in a later 
 chapter, the plot and poetical attributes of this play 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 431 
 
 about the foremost of French dramatists may be dis- 
 regarded here. A word, however, concerning its 
 metrical form is not amiss, particularly as the Mar- 
 tellian measure adopted by Goldoni on this occasion 
 was subsequently used by him many times, it being 
 the Italian form most closely resembling the Alex- 
 andrine measure of the French classical comedy he 
 sought to emulate. 
 
 This measure takes its name from Pier lacopo 
 Martelli, an Italian poet who at the time of Goldoni's 
 birth occupied the chair of belles-lettres at the uni- 
 versity of Bologna. A glib writer in several forms 
 of literature, he came under French influence so com- 
 pletely during a visit to Paris in 1713, that he was 
 reproached with Gallicism by his fellow-countrymen 
 for introducing into his tragedies the measure that 
 now bears his name. The Martellian metre, how- 
 ever, though it resembles the Alexandrine in its har- 
 monious rhythm, has one more foot than its French 
 prototype. As it consists of fourteen syllables, it sug- 
 gests the English ballad measure, though the metrical 
 value of the syllable is so different in the two lan- 
 guages that the resemblance is numerical rather than 
 quantitative. 
 
 Although Martelli defended himself against the 
 charge of Gallicism by maintaining that the measure 
 he had adopted was the invention of Ciullo d'Alcamo, 
 a Sicilian poet of the thirteenth century, he was 
 nevertheless belittled by his contemporaries, who re- 
 fused to accept the new measure as an Italian form 
 
432 GOLDONI 
 
 Twenty-four years after Martelli's death, 2 Goldoni, in 
 casting about for a form in which to express the sor- 
 rowful love-story of the French Master, chose the 
 Martellian metre as best suggesting French atmos- 
 phere. "The Martellian verse had been forgotten," 
 he says. "The monotony of the caesura, and of the too 
 frequent and always coupled rhymes had already 
 disgusted Italian ears, even during the author's life- 
 time; hence every one was prejudiced against me, for 
 presuming to revivify verses that had already been 
 proscribed. But the effect overcame the prejudice. 
 My verses gave as much pleasure as the play, and 
 Moliere was placed by public opinion beside 
 Pamela." 
 
 If this be true, the public was as much in error as 
 Goldoni, both Moliere and Pamela being plays in 
 which our Venetian's genius is little manifest. Rather 
 does one agree with the late Giosue Carducci, Italy's 
 foremost modern poet, in his following estimates both 
 of the Martellian measure and of Goldoni's prosaic 
 use of it: 
 
 With a style at once colourful, strong, and passionate, such as 
 Martelli's is occasionally, the Alexandrine succeeds admirably; 
 when it serves a slovenly, careless style, it becomes valueless and 
 insufferable; therefore it acquired a bad name among us, particu- 
 larly on account of the wretched versification and language of cer- 
 tain comedies by Goldoni and Chiari. 3 
 
 2 Goldoni says in his memoirs that "he amused himself in making these 
 verses succeed fifty years after their author's death, but Martelli died in 
 1727, -whereas Moliere was written in 1751. 
 
 3 Note alle nuove poesie di Giosue Carducci, as quoted by P. G. Mol- 
 menti in Carlo Goldoni. 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 433 
 
 "Wretched" is perhaps too strong a term to de- 
 scribe Goldoni's Martellian verse; yet it would be 
 equally wrong to use a word of superlative approba- 
 tion, mediocre being the just adjective with which 
 to qualify it. Luckily, three-fourths of his comedies 
 are in prose. Moreover, though he wrote occasion- 
 ally in verse to satisfy the taste of his more cultivated 
 auditors, he apparently realized that prose is the nat- 
 ural medium of comedy; since in The Comic Thea- 
 tre, he thus pricks a false bubble of tradition: 
 
 Comedy should be entirely probable, and for the characters to 
 talk in verse is contrary to probability. You will say that comic 
 verses are disguised so as to make them resemble prose. Then why 
 not write simply in prose? 
 
 Although he held this sane belief, classic tradition 
 often forced him to the use of verse, particularly in 
 the trio of ambitious comedies Moliere, Terence, 
 and Tasso. Indeed a modern continental author 
 writing comedies upon similar subjects would pro- 
 bably resort to verse, so thoroughly rooted is the 
 classical tradition. Alas, in only too many instances 
 verse merely stultifies a play otherwise worthy. In 
 the case of GoldonPs comedies this is peculiarly true, 
 his naturalistic genius strutting awkwardly in poeti- 
 cal attire. In Terence, for instance, the second com- 
 edy of the classical trio, there is scarcely a ray of 
 poetical sunlight to illumine the laboured verses of 
 its five prosaic acts; even in dramatic construction 
 it is inferior to both Moliere and Tasso, there being 
 
434 GOLDONI 
 
 less unity of action, less truth to nature than in either 
 of these comedies. 
 
 Though the idol of the public, the Terence of Gol- 
 doni's play is still the slave of Lucanus, a Roman 
 senator. He loves Creusa, a Greek slave girl, who 
 returns his affection ardently, and he is loved by 
 Livia, the adopted daughter of his master, a haughty 
 Roman maid who conceals her passion because of the 
 chains Terence wears, yet plots to circumvent her 
 Greek rival. Indeed, there is considerable plotting 
 and counter-plotting on the part not only of jealous 
 Livia, but of a slave named Damon, as well, envious 
 of his fellow-bondsman's success. Damon is aided 
 by Lisca, a parasite who seeks to balk the worthy pur- 
 pose Lucanus has of manumitting Terence as a re- 
 ward for the fine comedies with which he has adorned 
 the Roman stage. As in both Moliere and Tasso, 
 Goldoni unburdened his artistic heart in this play, 
 particularly in the scene in which parasitic Lisca tells 
 jealous Damon that if he will roast him a brace of 
 pheasants he will teach him how to write a comedy 
 that will undo Terence in the public's favour. 
 Plautus is to be the subject, and the parallel to the 
 discredit of Terence which the latter's enemies will 
 draw is to be both Damon's vindication and his 
 glory. "That is all very well," Damon replies, 
 "and the pheasants are yours, Lisca; yet should I be 
 asked who Plautus was, I know not whether he was a 
 man or some strange beast." Lisca's following an- 
 swer is manifestly the expression of Goldoni's feelings 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 435 
 
 regarding both his own art and its critics, and there- 
 fore autobiographical: 
 
 I'll give thee light enough on that. Plautus 
 Was born in Umbria, and there had failed 
 In merchantry. Miserably he pined 
 For months, until his lot became so hard 
 That he was forced to grind a mill. The wretch 
 Conceived his comedies, they say, in hours 
 Of rest and tears; when they had reached a score, 
 They wrought such marvels, that good fortune smiled 
 On him. So pure a style had he, that even 
 The Muses, would they speak, must utter words 
 Like his. All wise men do him justice, now; 
 His simple themes are praised, the art, besides, 
 With which he paints men's ways; for, knowing well 
 The world, his insight was derived from it. 
 His life, scant subject for a comedy 
 Doth yield; yet if we romance 't will succeed, 
 'Twill answer if our parallel doth leave 
 Critical judgment in suspense; then will 
 The crowd applaud. But three or four suffice 
 To slur this slave and leave the public shouting, 
 "O bravo, Damon, bravo!" 
 
 To bring the story of this dull play to an end it is 
 sufficient to say that the illustrious Terence gains his 
 freedom, and by an expedient not unlike the tricks 
 of Plautus's Phormion Scapin's prototype he gains 
 as well the hand of the Greek girl whom he loves. 
 When, all is said, "Terence," to quote Professor 
 Ortolani, 4 "would not be worthy of remembrance 
 had it not inaugurated at Venice a series of Greco- 
 Latin comedies brief in fortune, yet contemptible." 
 During this period of false art, Socrates, Democritus, 
 
 4 Op. cit. 
 
436 GOLDONI 
 
 Diogenes, yEsop, and Plautus were brought to painful 
 resurrection by dramatic dabblers, among whom 
 Chiari alone is remembered because Carlo Gozzi 
 coupled his name with Goldoni's. 
 
 Tasso, the third comedy of the classical trio, was 
 also brought to light during this neo-classical orgy 
 Terence had ushered in; yet in Tasso there is a bio- 
 graphical interest at least, it being primarily a po- 
 lemic launched, as Goldoni thus says, against the 
 pedants who had taken him to task for the impurity 
 of his Italian: 
 
 I was a Venetian; moreover I had the ill luck of having im- 
 bibed with my mother's milk the habit of a very agreeable, very 
 seductive patois, which, alas, was not Tuscan. I learned by rule 
 and I cultivated by reading, the language of good Italian authors, 
 but first impressions reappear in spite of one's intention to avoid 
 them. I had taken a journey to Tuscany, where I had remained 
 four years familiarizing myself with the language; and to purge 
 them of linguistical defects, my plays had been first published in 
 Florence under the eyes and the censorship of the learned men of 
 that country ; yet all my precautions had not sufficed in contenting 
 the rigorists. I had always lacked something. I was ever re- 
 proached with the original sin of Venetianism. 
 
 Tasso had been persecuted throughout his life by 
 the academicians of La Crusca. His Jerusalem De- 
 livered had not passed, they maintained, through the 
 sieve symbolizing their society. From Tasso's life 
 Goldoni drew the sources of a play in his own de- 
 fence. "One should write in good Italian," he 
 declared ; "but one should write in a way to be under- 
 stood in all the sections of Italy. Tasso was wrong 
 in revising his poem to please the academicians of 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 437 
 
 La Crusca: his Jerusalem Delivered is read by every 
 one; no one reads his Jerusalem Conquered" 
 
 Thus Goldoni's comedy became a thesis, and his 
 Tasso a spectre of himself fighting his enemies, rather 
 than the great poet whose wrongs at the hands of 
 Duke Alfonso of Ferrara presented so rare an op- 
 portunity to picture truly the crafty, cruel, rose- 
 flecked, thorn-strewn life of a renaissance court, with 
 its temples of love and dungeons of misery, its pol- 
 ished cortegiani and flattering villains with poison 
 vials or daggers concealed beneath their graceful 
 cloaks. Melancholy Tasso gave him the opportunity 
 of creating an Italian Hamlet or an Alceste. In his 
 desire to confound his enemies, he has presented only 
 an atrabilious poet in small clothes and a periwig 
 a Bernardino Perfetti, with too diminutive a head for 
 his majestic laurel crown. The atmosphere is of the 
 eighteenth, not the sixteenth century, the Ferrara of 
 this play being in reality Parma, where Goldoni had 
 basked in the sunshine of a ducal pension. Instead of 
 Maddalo, a villain of the Renaissance who in real life 
 plotted the trusting Tasso's downfall with friendship 
 on his lips, we have prying, gossiping Don Ghe- 
 rardo flitting through this comedy with a quizzing- 
 glass and a snuff-box and minding everybody's busi- 
 ness but his own a villain whose most crafty 
 machination is to steal the manuscript of a poem in 
 which Tasso had sung his unrequited love for Eleo- 
 nora. 
 
 There are three Eleonoras at this court of Ferrara 
 
438 GOLDONI 
 
 or rather Parma: Don Gherardo's wife, the 
 duke's mistress, and a waiting maid, and it is on 
 the identity of the Eleonora of Tasso's passion that 
 the intrigue of the comedy hinges. Throughout five 
 acts, Don Gherardo is tripping in and out trying to 
 discover if the Eleonora of the poem is his wife or 
 another, while each of the three namesakes is endeav- 
 ouring to make it apparent that she is the poet's in- 
 amorata, for the distinction of having it said that her 
 charms have been sung by him. 
 
 The love Tasso dares not declare is for the duke's 
 mistress, and when he is not repining, he is complain- 
 ing of his vapours or ranting against the critics who 
 condemn him. Meanwhile a character called the 
 Cavalier del Fiocco (Knight of the Tuft) taunts him 
 with the impurity of his Italian and makes him long 
 to flee where critics carp not, this fellow being a satire 
 upon the Granelleschi, while the pithy answers of 
 Signor Tomio, a Venetian Philistine, are intended to 
 confound them. Tomio has come to Ferrara to bid 
 Tasso seek an asylum in Venice; there is an amusing 
 Neapolitan, too, who invites him to Naples; and a 
 Roman proffering a laurel crown, which Tasso, after 
 a night in a madhouse (instead of the seven years 
 of reality) accepts, while presaging his own death. 
 
 In verses without imagery and with an apocryphal 
 story, this is the sort of Tasso Goldoni has portrayed; 
 yet it must be admitted that this portrayal represents 
 a phase of the true Tasso, the dramatist having dwelt 
 faithfully upon the neurasthenic symptoms that gave 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 439 
 
 to the poet's melancholy nature the appearance of 
 madness and left him, victim of his own distrust, a 
 prisoner in a bedlam throughout seven distressing 
 years. It is not with the psychology of Goldoni's 
 Tasso that the quarrel lies, nor with the historical lib- 
 erties taken in condensing into a single day the events 
 of a lifetime, since Shakespeare and Calderon dis- 
 torted history quite as casually. The quarrel is rather 
 with the atmosphere in which the hypochondriacal 
 poet is placed, the characters surrounding him, the 
 flippancy with which a subject fraught with majesty 
 is handled. Goldoni has dressed his hero in small- 
 clothes. About him, in a stuffy apartment, flit sel- 
 fish ducal mistresses, vain wives, coquettish soubrettes, 
 and carping pedants, loading the atmosphere with 
 their scents and snuffs. The air should have been 
 the rose-perfumed air of a moonlit balcony, tempered 
 by the music of a lute in a true lover's hand. No 
 prying gossip or cackling poetaster should have been 
 the villain, but a crafty flatterer hiding his venom 
 beneath the folds of his cloak; while Tasso himself 
 should have been no mere neurasthenic, but rather a 
 poet haunted by the bewildering fancies of a weary 
 mind, a genius of "moping melancholy and moon- 
 struck madness." 
 
 Moreover, instead of Princess Eleonora D'Este, 
 with her noble qualities of mind, her spiritual beauty, 
 we have a vain and powdered marquise with another 
 cognomen lest her princely rank and name offend a 
 family still regnant. This sop to the stage exigencies 
 
440 GOLDONI 
 
 of the day may be pardoned, but not Goldoni's failure 
 to create the atmosphere of the Renaissance and a 
 Tasso worthy to breathe it. Yet the very limitations of 
 this play betray his peculiar genius. He could not 
 rise to the height his subject demanded, nor could he 
 fail in portraying the men and women of his time. 
 His Tasso is a phantom of his own vapours, his 
 Eleonora the vain mistress of a petty duke, his villain 
 a prying courtier, his pedant a caricature of Carlo 
 Gozzi to confound him all Italians of his day, just 
 as the classic or historical heroes of Calderon were 
 courtly Castilians true to the audience before which 
 they appeared. 
 
 Yet Goethe in his Tasso committed the same grave 
 error of depicting in the struggles of the Italian poet 
 his own sufferings from princely patronage. To 
 Eckermann he declared that "the court, the situation, 
 the love passages were at Weimar as at Ferrara." 
 Goethe's scenery, a garden adorned with the busts of 
 epic poets, is more suggestive of the Renaissance than 
 Goldoni's; he follows more closely, too, the events 
 of the poet's life, and gives to his characters their 
 real names ; yet his Tasso is a play of still life so far 
 as action is concerned. Though superior to Goldoni as 
 a poet, in stage-craft Goethe shows inferiority; while 
 in spite of Madame de StaeTs declaration that "in 
 Tasso he is the Racine of Germany," he depicts with 
 scarcely more sublimity than our Venetian the suffer- 
 ings of the half-mad poet during the distressing years 
 he passed at Ferrara. 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 441 
 
 Still more deserving of oblivion than this trio of 
 plays about classical poets are the exotic comedies 
 in verse in which Goldoni plunged blindly into bar- 
 baric lands he knew only from the pages of the Italian 
 translation of Thomas Salmon's Modern History; 
 or, Present State of All Nations; a work more legen- 
 dary than accurate, in which this sailor-author re- 
 counts the stories told him by the marines. Judging 
 by the fantastic Persia, Morocco, Peru, and Guiana 
 Goldoni presents in The Persian Bride (La Sposa 
 perslana) and its two sequels as well as in The Little 
 Dalmatian (La Dalmatlna), The Peruvian Girl (La 
 Peruvlana) , and The Fair Savage (La Bella selvag- 
 gia), as an authority Salmon was akin to Gulliver. 
 
 Since The Fair Savage was inspired by TAbbe 
 Prevost, 5 and The Peruvian Girl by Madame de 
 Graffigny, 6 it is perhaps unfair to hold the inexact 
 Salmon entirely responsible for the discovery of the 
 apocryphal lands into which Goldoni blindly led his 
 Venetian admirers, particularly as Zelia, his Peru- 
 vian, finds her way to a village in the neighbourhood 
 of Paris. 
 
 Yet, whatever may be the truth regarding the ori- 
 gin of the various barbaric ladies of Goldoni's im- 
 agination, little need be said about them beyond the 
 fact that they are as romantic as they are unreal. 
 They satisfied a temporary dramatic craze for ad- 
 venturous plots and fantastic scenery, and the curtain 
 may be quickly drawn upon all of them except The 
 
 5 Histoire generate des voyages. 6 Lettres d'une Peruvienne. 
 
442 GOLDONI 
 
 Persian Bride. Here Goldoni appeals to his audi- 
 tors with oriental magnificence and resorts to the 
 melodramatic claptrap of subterranean passages, dag- 
 gers, and sudden escapes; yet this play presents an 
 interesting contrast between European and oriental 
 morals, best elucidated by its author's following 
 words : 
 
 The subject of The Persian Bride is not heroic: a rich financier 
 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 Sefavean army. This is what we see 
 every day in our pieces; a young lady betrothed to a young man 
 whose heart is already pre-occupied. . . . But what removed this 
 Asiatic still farther from a level with our ordinary comedies was, 
 that in the house of Machmout, there was a seraglio for himself 
 and another for his son; an arrangement very different from our 
 European custom, where the father and son may have more mis- 
 tresses than they have in Persia, but no seraglio. 
 
 Thamas had in his a Circassian slave named Hircana, to whom 
 he was tenderly attached, and who, notwithstanding her servitude, 
 proudly refused to allow her lover and master to divide his favour 
 with other women, not even with the one his father destined for 
 his spouse. 
 
 This is also something new for our climate; for in France, as 
 well as in Italy, a mistress would make no opposition to her 
 friend's forming a respectable and proper connection, provided he 
 continued to see her, or secured her an income by way of consola- 
 tion in her affliction. 
 
 This contrast between the morals of Europe and 
 the East is cleverly expressed in the play itself, when 
 Thamas, the hero, thus voices his envy of the liberties 
 enjoyed by Europeans : 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 443 
 
 Since no Mohammedan may look upon 
 
 A woman not his wife, we do not share 
 
 The joys that are to Europeans given. 
 
 Italians, Spaniards, Englishmen, and Greeks, 
 
 Frenchmen, and Germans, too, may not, forsooth, 
 
 Like us have wives a score; yet in the street, 
 
 Uncovered by the hundred, they may gaze 
 
 At them and amorous looks, at least, bestow 
 
 On them at will. Yet Europe numbers still 
 
 Amongst her peoples not a few who envy 
 
 A sad hareem as if the slavery 
 
 That burdens them were not increased for us. 
 
 When The Persian Bride was produced the public 
 liked Hircana, the Circassian slave, better than Fa- 
 tima, the protagonist, a popularity that led to the 
 writing of Hircana at Julfa (Ircana in Julfa) and 
 Hircana at Ispahan (Ircana in Ispaan), two plays 
 in which her romantic adventures are continued. 
 Goldoni thought so highly of this Persian trilogy 
 that he devotes two chapters of his memoirs to praise 
 of it; yet silence is to-day the kindest treatment for 
 these oriental plays, foreign both to nature and to 
 GoldonPs genius. 
 
 An exotic comedy in verse of quite a different na- 
 ture is The English Philosopher (II Filosofo inglese) 
 a play inspired by the ladies of Venice, who, having 
 made a fad of reading Addison's Spectator in a trans- 
 lation then current, believed themselves to be philoso- 
 phers, or rather femmes savantes such as Moliere 
 satirized. Although there is a slight similarity in 
 theme between The English Philosopher and Mo- 
 
444 GOLDONI 
 
 Here's master-piece, in plot there is none whatever, 
 Goldoni's comedy the scene of which is laid in Lon- 
 don, where he had never set foot being concerned 
 with the secret love of a rich English blue-stocking 
 for a priggish philosopher whose rival is a scion of 
 English nobility. The story of this play is without 
 interest and its principal characters are convention- 
 ally dull; yet some of the minor character-bits are 
 drawn in Goldoni's best vein. Particularly is this 
 true of Panich, the cobbler, whose communistic views 
 are not unworthy our modern disciples of discontent. 
 Indeed, the satire in the following scene is too de- 
 lightful to be passed by, even though the play in 
 which it occurs inadequately represents its author's 
 talent. Here a pot-boy, having seized a pair of 
 Panich the cobbler's shoes as security for a score he 
 has refused to pay, thus appeals to the English phi- 
 losopher who is passing at the time : 
 
 THE POT-BOY (to the Philosopher} 
 His score he will not pay. Justice, good sir! 
 
 THE COBBLER (to the Philosopher} 
 'Tis not through malice, sir, I trow. You pay 
 Too dear refreshment at this inn. A draught 
 Of boiling water scarce a farthing's worth 
 With sugar, lemon, and some rum. Besides 
 No cash have I. Ne'er do I carry it. 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 
 
 So, master, so! Worthy Philosopher, 
 At inns you drink without the cash to pay? 
 
 THE COBBLER 
 
 And you, good sir, who in philosophy 
 
 Are somewhat learned, such an exorbitance 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 445 
 
 Do you approve? Equal all men are born; 
 
 Ours are the goods this world contains. This thing 
 
 Is mine, we should not say ; nor that is yours. 
 
 If man of fellow-man has need, and by 
 
 Him is assuaged, to proffer payment is 
 
 A shame, I trow. Though penniless, I've drunk 
 
 With him. Whene'er his shoes are worn, I'll fit 
 
 Him with a pair ; then are we quits indeed. 
 
 THE POT-BOY (to the Cobbler) 
 Plague take thy shoes ! A shilling is my due. 
 Base cobbler, I will pay thee out! 
 
 THE COBBLER 
 
 Pay me ? 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER (to the Cobbler) 
 Enough's been said. He's right and Right's 
 A mistress to adore. 
 
 (To the Pot-boy.) 'Twixt men of worth 
 All chattels are exchanged, not paid. A pair 
 Of shoes I need. Friend Panich here will give 
 Me them for nothing soon. 
 
 THE COBBLER 
 
 Slowly, my friend. 
 
 If I these shoes should give what wilt thou 
 Give me in exchange? 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Nothing: I possess 
 No trade. 
 
 THE COBBLER 
 
 But if you have no trade, I have; 
 And for an idle hand I'll not exchange 
 Good shoes. 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 
 
 And on a like account, with you, 
 A fortune for a shilling's worth, this lad 
 Would not exchange. You know not what you say. 
 
446 GOLDONI 
 
 THE COBBLER 
 
 I'd have my shoes. 
 
 THE POT-BOY 
 
 Then pay. 
 
 THE COBBLER 
 
 Base tyranny! 
 
 Wouldst make a fellow pay who has no cash 
 Or, 'gainst all nature, let him die of thirst! 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER 
 
 'Tis true that to assuage your thirst is right. 
 Yet, if you cannot pay, cold water you 
 Should drink. 
 
 THE COBBLER 
 
 You know not what you say. My shoes 
 I'd have at once, dost understand, my shoes? (to the Pot-boy) 
 
 THE PHILOSOPHER (to the Pot-boy) 
 Here is the shilling ; take it ; give the shoes. 
 
 THE POT-BOY (to the Cobbler) 
 Here are thy shoes. Thy whistle ne'er again 
 I'll wet; a fountain seek, or else a well. 
 
 (Exit) 
 
 THE COBBLER (to the Philosopher) 
 I thank thee not; if thou hast paid for me 
 'Tis but a neighbour's duty to assist his kind. 
 Unto this act of nature wast thou forced : 
 To thee I hold myself no way obliged. 
 
 Another exotic comedy in verse in which Goldoni 
 leads us to a civilized land instead of to Barbary is 
 The Dutch Doctor (II Medico olandese) a play 
 made interesting by its subjectivity, the rational treat- 
 ment of that intangible malady neurasthenia or, as 
 it was then called, the vapours having been its in- 
 spiration. Though optimistic by nature and genial 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 447 
 
 in temperament, Goldoni, like most writers, was 
 nevertheless a chronic sufferer from nerves. At the 
 close of the strenuous theatrical year when he wrote 
 sixteen plays, he "paid the price of his folly," he tells 
 us, "by falling ill." "Subject as I was," he adds, "to 
 the black vapours that attack at the same time both 
 body and mind, I felt them revive within me more 
 violently then ever." In recalling the needed rest 
 he took at Genoa during the following summer he 
 exclaims : "Ah, but it is sweet, above all when one 
 has worked much, to pass a few days without any- 
 thing to do!" A few years later, after the wife of 
 his worthless brother had died, and the peace of his 
 happy Venetian home was destroyed by the advent 
 of that military adventurer and his two children, 
 Goldoni's nerves were unstrung, as many another 
 man's have been, by a deluge of relations. His own 
 words shall describe his neurasthenia on this occa- 
 sion: 
 
 I was still suffering from the intense fatigue which I had under- 
 gone for the theatre of Sant' Angelo; and the verses to which I 
 had unfortunately accustomed the public cost me infinitely 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 of a moral nature. Sometimes my 
 imagination was heated by the effervescence of the bodily fluids, 
 and sometimes the animal economy was deranged by apprehen- 
 sion. Our mind is so intimately connected with our body, that 
 if it were not for reason, which belongs to the immortal soul, we 
 should be mere machines. 
 
448 GOLDONI 
 
 A short time after this attack of neurasthenia, Gol- 
 doni was attending a performance at Milan, when 
 an actor named Angelini who, like himself, was sub- 
 ject to "the vapours," dropped dead upon the stage. 
 The shock to his nerves was so great that crying 
 aloud, "Angelini, my companion in spleen, is dead," 
 he ran home in terror and there was seized with a 
 "real illness," his mind being as he says, "more diffi- 
 cult to cure than his body." The suggestive treat- 
 ment administered on this occasion is remarkable in 
 that day of empiricism: "Considering your dis- 
 ease," his doctor told him, "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," 
 Goldoni says, "and I have never forgotten it." Be- 
 ing useful "in every stage of life," it proved service- 
 able in the composition of The Dutch Doctor, a com- 
 edy inspired while he was sojourning at Colorno with 
 the court of Parma, during the summer of 1756. 
 A few months later he wrote for his ducal patron the 
 libretti of several musical pieces for one of which, 7 
 Egidio Domualdo Duni, a musician of Neapolitan 
 birth, who shares with Philador, Monsigny, and Gre- 
 try the distinction of having created opera comique, 
 composed the music. A chronic sufferer from nerves, 
 Duni had once been treated effectively at Leyden by 
 the famous Herman Boerhaave, perhaps the great- 
 
 7 La Buona figliuola, the plot of which was taken from Pamela. 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 449 
 
 est physician of the day. With nerves as their bond 
 of sympathy, Goldoni and Duni became intimate 
 during the summer they passed at Colorno. Taking 
 frequent walks together, their conversation turned 
 generally on their real or imaginary evils, and during 
 one of these walks The Dutch Doctor was inspired 
 in the manner Goldoni here relates : 
 
 M. Duni told me one day that he had been at Leyden in Hol- 
 land, for the purpose of consulting the celebrated Boerhaave on 
 the symptoms of his malady, . . . the only prescription he gave 
 the hypochondriacal musician being to ride, amuse himself, live 
 in his ordinary manner, and avoid all kinds of medicines. . . . 
 Duni, who had seen him for several months, gave me a detailed 
 description of his manners and way of living, and he mentioned 
 Miss Boerhaave, too, who was young, rich, beautiful, and still 
 unmarried. ... I listened attentively to him, and formed in my 
 head the seeds of a comedy which soon shot upwards, with the 
 assistance of a little reflection and moral philosophy. I concealed 
 the name of Boerhaave 8 in my piece under that of Bainer, a 
 Dutch physician and philosopher, and introduced a Pole afflicted 
 with the same disease as that of Duni. Bainer treated him in 
 the same manner; but at the end of the play the Pole married the 
 daughter of the physician. 
 
 Although the comedy thus inspired, like A Curious 
 Mishap, the scene of which is also laid in Holland, 
 tells a trite story of the winning of a rich Dutchman's 
 daughter by a young foreigner, Dr. Bainer, its pro- 
 tagonist becomes truly interesting because of the fol- 
 lowing advice he gives his hypochondriacal patient, 
 so enlightened for that day of purges and leeches that 
 it is indeed remarkable : 
 
 8 Boerhaave died in 1738, eighteen years before Goldoni's musical play 
 was written. 
 
450 GOLDONI 
 
 Listen I pray: By the neighbouring stream 
 Within the suburbs, choose a shady nook; 
 In gardens fair seek joyful fellowship, 
 And with good friends dine at the common board; 
 Game for amusement, not till ruin comes; 
 For pleasure, try a good horse, now and then; 
 Likewise an honest love which you will find 
 I trow; one nail, the poets say, drives out 
 Another from the plank. Your remedy 
 Behold! If you have faith in my advice 
 No other recompense shall I demand. 9 
 
 To find a more truthful atmosphere in GoldonPs 
 versified comedies of the aristocratic and bourgeois 
 life of Venice, than in those depicting an apocryphal 
 orient, or London and The Hague viewed through 
 the pages of translated books and the stories told by 
 travellers, is a reasonable expectation. Although 
 partially realized, the reader of these comedies is still 
 doomed to considerable disappointment, verse being 
 an unnatural medium for the small talk of society, and 
 Goldoni ill at ease in its use. Indeed the best that 
 may be said for these comedies is that they are better 
 than the exotic comedies in verse, not because they 
 fulfil more exactly the requirements of the poetic 
 drama, but because their atmosphere and character- 
 ization are truer to life. A rapid review of the 
 plays in this category will suffice, however, to 
 acquaint the reader with their characteristics. 
 
 Though it ends happily, The Intrepid Woman (La 
 
 9 Goldoni presents a similar exposition of the value of mental treat- 
 ment in Act II, scene 7, of // Ritorno dalla villeggiatura. 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 451 
 
 Donna forte), resembles Shakespeare's Othello, Don 
 Fernando being an lago who poisons the heart of the 
 Marchese di Monte Rosso against his virtuous wife 
 because she has spurned his own amorous attentions. 
 The Harassed Man of Wealth (II Ricco insidlato) 
 tells the story of an heir to an uncle's fortune, who, 
 besieged by the blandishments of sycophants, resolves 
 to unmask them by publishing a false will depriving 
 him of his inheritance; though his fair-weather 
 friends desert him, the heroine remains constant and is 
 rewarded by his hand and fortune. The plot of The 
 Witty Widow (La Vedova spiritosa) is taken from 
 a story by Marmontel; but like The Upper Servant 
 (La Donna di governo) 10 it is not distinguished by 
 elements either striking or praiseworthy. The Spirit 
 of Contradiction (Lo Spirito di contraddizione) is 
 another comedy in verse that may be passed by in 
 silence. 11 The Artful Bride-Elect (La Sposa sa- 
 gace), however, sheds a side-light upon cicisbeism, 
 for here a young officer is both a girl's betrothed and 
 her step-mother's cavalier servente. The Lone 
 Woman (La Donna sola) contains but a single fe- 
 male part, that of a clever widow, who, instead of 
 marrying one of her numerous suitors, converts them 
 all into loyal citizens of a Platonic republic ruled 
 by her charms, she being the opposite of the pro- 
 
 10 Goldoni translates the title of this comedy as La Gouvernante, used 
 not in the sense of governess, but of a housekeeper or principal servant. 
 
 11 Although Charles Riviere Dufresny had previously written a one- 
 act comedy entitled L'Esprit de contradiction, Goldoni denies having 
 seen it before writing his play of the same name. 
 
452 GOLDONI 
 
 tagonist of The Capricious Woman (La Donna stra- 
 vagante), a heroine so perverse that when she ap- 
 peared on the stage, Goldoni was forced by his femi- 
 nine auditors to announce that she was a character of 
 pure invention and not taken from life. A wilful, 
 jealous creature, who persecutes her sister and leads a 
 long suffering lover a merry dance, this wayward 
 lady, Donna Livia by name, seemed to La Bresciani, 
 the capricious actress who played the part, so true a 
 portrait of herself that she did her best to ruin the suc- 
 cess of the play. To enliven the plot of The Father 
 through Love (II Padre per amore) which he took 
 from Madame de Graffigny's Cenie, Goldoni intro- 
 duced a pair of monstrous noses, 12 yet even these fail 
 to make it a notable play. The Lover of Himself 
 (L'Amante di se medesimo) gave him, in egotism, a 
 subject for a profound character study such as Mo- 
 liere presents in Le Misanthrope] yet he was too 
 genial by nature to handle it forcibly, therefore this 
 play occupies an unimportant place even among his 
 comedies in verse. The Dancing School (La Scuola 
 di hallo) should have afforded him a more congenial 
 topic, but this piece is not even mentioned by Goldoni 
 in his memoirs. The Ward (La Pupilla] 13 is a 
 
 12 Had the lawyers who defended M. Edmond Rostand against the 
 charge of plagiarism brought a few years since been aware of the ex- 
 istence of this play and also of Calderon's L'Alcalde de Zalamea, in 
 which one character makes love on behalf of another beneath a bal- 
 cony, a United States Court might have been spared the ignominy of 
 a decision that made the American judiciary the laughing-stock of the 
 civilized world. 
 
 13 This comedy is different in plot and treatment from the musical 
 interlude of the same name written in 1734. 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 453 
 
 comedy written in versi sdruccioli, a measure with the 
 accent of each verse on the antepenultimate syllable. 
 Interesting solely as an attempt on Goldoni's part to 
 imitate Ariosto, it is, as Charles Rabany says, "an 
 extra task Goldoni imposed upon himself which it is 
 useless to impose upon the reader as well." 14 
 
 Three society comedies in verse 15 of slightly dif- 
 ferent nature from the foregoing are those penned 
 for performance in the private theatre of his friend 
 and patron the Marquis Albergati-Capacelli. Be- 
 ing intended for amateur production they are shorter 
 than those written for the professional boards, have 
 fewer characters, and are less noteworthy too, even 
 though the leading role in The Witty Cavalier (II 
 Cavalier di spirito], the most interesting of the three, 
 portrays, as its author tells us, the qualities of his 
 witty and genial young host, who himself played the 
 part. 
 
 Yet, truly as these society and bourgeois comedies in 
 verse paint the Venetian manners of their author's 
 day, they are wholly inferior to his best prose come- 
 dies. Indeed, only occasionally is their awkward 
 verse illumined by a graceful side-light, such as the 
 following lines from one of the dullest of them 16 
 shed upon Venetian manners. Here a lady versed 
 in gallantry instructs an unruly gentleman in the laws 
 governing cicisbeism, in a spirit truly of the eight- 
 eenth century: 
 
 14 Carlo Goldoni; Le Theatre et la vie en Italie au XVIIle siecle. 
 
 15 II Cavalier di spirito, La Donna bizzarra, and L'Apatista. 
 10 // Cavalier giocondo. 
 
454 GOLDONI 
 
 Go, straightway learn how to behave with ladies! 
 
 He who enlists in gallantry should do 
 
 His duty at all costs; though suffering, he 
 
 Should prove his worthiness to serve; rebuke 
 
 And rudeness both accept in all good part; 
 
 Pay dearly for his pleasantries and wiles; 
 
 Shun all occasion to displease and all 
 
 That might displease learn to foresee; his friends ' 
 
 Forsake and in the fair one's company 
 
 Immure himself; and whether she be sad 
 
 Or gay, unto her mood he must conform; 
 
 Nor should he vaunt the thing that pleases him, 
 
 But by her pleasure regulate his taste. 
 
 Even as my lady bids he should respond; 
 
 By night watch over her, and sigh by day; 
 
 Endure a rival ay, turn pale or blush 
 
 With jealousy, yet never have the boldness 
 
 To tell the things he may have seen, in hope 
 
 Thus to regain the trifle he has lost. 
 
 His lady's hand ofttimes to strangers he 
 
 Must yield, yet never babble of revenge, 
 
 Nor take on airs. When she speaks he should answer, 
 
 And when she's silent, hold his tongue ; he should 
 
 Perceive when speech, when silence, pleases her; 
 
 Impertinence or insult patiently 
 
 Endure, even at the risk of being thought 
 
 A simpleton. Let him who knows not how, 
 
 Refrain thus must he do who would succeed. 
 
 The most noteworthy of Goldoni's society comedies 
 in verse is The Ball (II Festino), a play conceived 
 and hurried to completion after the failure of The 
 Whimsical Old Man had made the loungers in the 
 Ridotto exclaim, "Goldoni is finished, Goldoni has 
 emptied his bag." Indeed this five-act play in verse, 
 written and produced within fifteen days and given 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 455 
 
 to the copyist act by act, as a tour de force, is made 
 still more remarkable by the fact that it presents a 
 spirited picture of fashionable Venetian life, and is 
 by no means a bad play. It drags, to be sure, par- 
 ticularly in the third and fourth acts, where its action 
 should quicken; yet its characterization is peculiarly 
 true, Doralice, the cicisbea, for whose capricious 
 smiles the Count of Belpoggio neglects a loving wife 
 and squanders a fortune, being as exacting a mon- 
 daine as ever flounced a train, while her fashionable 
 friends may still be met in the palaces of Venice or 
 wherever worldlings congregate. Its title is derived 
 from the ball the Count of Belpoggio gives in honour 
 of Doralice, his flame; yet its interest lies less in its 
 story than in its truthful satire upon fashionable life. 
 It has a biographical interest also, as Goldoni thus re- 
 lates : 
 
 I contrived to have in a salon adjoining the ball-room an as- 
 sembly of weary dancers. I turned the conversation to The 
 Whimsical Old Man. I repeated all the ridiculous things which 
 I had heard in the Ridotto, keeping up a dispute for and against 
 the piece and the author, and my defence met with the approbation 
 and applause of the public. Thus I proved that my bag was not 
 empty and that my portfolio was not exhausted. 
 
 In this scene in the room adjoining the ball-room, 
 as well as in two others, 17 Goldoni criticizes himself 
 after the method of Moliere, 18 one character being 
 made to attack and another to defend his work. He 
 
 17 Act I, Scene 5, and Act II, Scene 13. 
 
 18 La Critique de I'ecole des femmes. 
 
456 GOLDONI 
 
 hoped, thereby, to confound his critics ; yet the best 
 refutation of the slurs that had been cast upon him 
 was the play itself. A man who could in fifteen days 
 pen so true a comedy, even had prose instead of 
 verse been the medium, was in nowise "finished," 
 nor was his bag of dramatic tricks empty. Indeed, 
 among his prose comedies there is perhaps no more 
 ruthless picture of the vices of the idle rich of Venice 
 than The Ball presents, the Count of Belpoggio, both 
 amorous dallier and spendthrift, being the type of 
 luxurious patrician who was leading proud Venice 
 to her ruin. In the words of the play: 
 
 When table guests and dancers have withdrawn, 
 Vile creditors his salon crowd at dawn. 
 By night he blithely toes the glistening floor, 
 By day he locks in shame his chamber door. 
 
 Naturalistic as is the picture Goldoni draws of so- 
 ciety in The Ball, like his other rhymed plays in Tus- 
 can it shows conclusively that prose, not verse, was the 
 true form of his artistic expression. Nor does he ap- 
 pear in his comedies in Venetian verse in the light of 
 a true poet, but rather as "the dear son and painter of 
 nature" Voltaire once acclaimed him. Here, quite 
 as truly as in the prose comedies he penned in the dia- 
 lect of Venice, does he depict her sons and daughters ; 
 for, in spite of their rhymes, the versified comedies he 
 wrote in the soft speech of Venice are prosaical both 
 in conception and language. 
 
 That verse, even though written in dialect, cannot 
 truly express the feelings of housewives, cooks, roy- 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 457 
 
 sterers, and peasants should have been apparent to 
 even so indifferent a poet; yet this is the medium he 
 used for five comedies of the life of his native city, 19 
 that are as naturalistic as any he penned in Venetian 
 prose not excepting The Boors and The Chiogglan 
 Brawls. Although there is scarcely a poetic thought 
 in any of the five, they have a certain rhythmic charm, 
 lacking in the "halting and ponderous Martellian 
 verse, which deluged the merry city of the sea" 20 
 a charm due, no doubt, to the fact that he was writing 
 in his mother tongue. Yet, naturalistic as these five 
 comedies are, they lack fine characterizations such as 
 Lunardo, Don Marzio, and Mirandolina; therefore 
 they cannot be ranked with his best prose comedies, 
 although two of them, The Maids-of- All-Work (Le 
 Massere} and The Public Square (II Campiello), 
 equal any of these in atmosphere and truth to nature. 
 The former, a comedy of life below-stairs, was 
 the first of the five comedies in Venetian verse to be 
 penned; 21 several maids-of-all-work employed in 
 neighbouring households giving the play its title. 
 The picture Goldoni here draws of life both above 
 and below stairs shows that the relations between mis- 
 
 19 Le Massere; Le Donne di casa soa; / Morbinosi; Le Morbinose, and 
 // Campiello. 
 
 20 Giuseppe Ortolani: op. cit. 
 
 21 In his memoirs Goldoni translates Le Massere, the title of this 
 play, as Les Cuisinieres; yet as Italian equivalents of the Venetian 
 word Massera, Boerio's dictionary of the Venetian dialect gives fante, 
 fantesca serva, and casiera, all of which signify servant rather than 
 cook. As the servants from which the play takes its name are employed 
 singly in small establishments, The Maids-of -all- Work is manifestly the 
 correct translation. 
 
458 GOLDONI 
 
 tress and maid were quite as difficult in his day as they 
 are now. Let us hope, however, that our modern 
 servants are not so deficient in admirable qualities 
 as these faithless Venetian maids-of-all-work who 
 rob their masters and hoodwink them too, who intro- 
 duce lovers into their mistresses's boudoirs and sell 
 the gifts they have been tipped to deliver, and then 
 go forth in mask and domino for the carnival holi- 
 day Goldoni tells us it was customary to accord them, 
 there to frolic among their betters and play amorous 
 tricks upon them. Indeed, the servants he presents 
 not only in this play but in The Sensible Wife, where 
 they tipple their employer's wine; in Hazards of 
 Country Life, where they discuss their mistresses' 
 love-affairs and drink the morning chocolate pre- 
 pared for them; and in The Upper Servant, where 
 one of them leads a household by the nose, are cer- 
 tainly as impertinent and thieving a crew as ever 
 vexed the mistress of a house in any age. Still, 
 Corallina in The Devoted Servant is an incorruptible 
 housemaid, while Lucietta of The New House is a 
 worthy member of her calling even though her 
 tongue wags; hence his pictures of servants are not 
 all drawn mercilessly. Moreover in this parting in- 
 junction to his maids-of-all-work, he shows such an 
 appreciation of the qualities a good servant should 
 possess, that apparently such were not unknown in 
 Venice : 
 
 Poor drudges, try to act with decency. 
 
 Since to your hands we trust ourselves, good maids 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 459 
 
 Are worth far more than any golden treasure. 
 Would you betray those who give you your bread, 
 And irritate through wantonness your masters? 
 If you be scurvy, good maids may be had: 
 Dishonest servants we will send afar, 
 And to the good extend a willing hand. 
 
 Although Goldoni considered The Maids-of- All- 
 Work the most thoroughly Venetian of his plays, like 
 The Housewives (Le Donne di casa soa] , its successor, 
 and a play written, as he tells us, "to encourage good 
 housewives and discourage bad ones," it may be dis- 
 missed as an excellent picture of manners written in 
 rhyme that should have been prose, verse being a 
 poor medium with which to detail either the admira- 
 ble qualities of housewives or the rascalities of serv- 
 ants. Although true in atmosphere and natural in 
 dialogue, these two comedies are both slender and 
 obvious in plot, and undistinguished by any notable 
 character study; a criticism that applies also to The 
 Jovial Men (I Morbinosi] , a play inspired by an out- 
 ing on an island opposite Venice once enjoyed by a 
 hundred and twenty jovial men of the city, of whom 
 Goldoni was one. His words shall tell of the play's 
 conception: 
 
 This piece was founded on fact: a merrily disposed individual 
 proposed a picnic in a garden of the island called la Giudecca, a 
 short distance from Venice. He gathered together a company of 
 a hundred and twenty, and I was of the number. We all sat at 
 the same table, which was comfortably served, and everything was 
 conducted with the most admirable order and astonishing pre- 
 cision. He had no women at dinner, but a number arrived be- 
 tween the dessert and coffee. We had a charming ball, and we 
 
460 GOLDONI 
 
 passed the night very agreeably. The subject of this piece was 
 only a fete; and it became necessary to enliven it by interesting 
 anecdotes and comic characters. All these I found in our society; 
 and, without offending any one, I endeavoured to avail myself of 
 them. 
 
 The Jovial Men is a merry trifle held together by 
 a slender thread of story concerning a jealous wife 
 who tracks her lord to his jovial lair, and a shady 
 opera singer, weary of stage life, who torments a pair 
 of sparks with her charms, while intriguing for a hus- 
 band. Its fascination lies, however, in its spirit of 
 good fellowship: its hilarious merrymaking with 
 wine-cup, music, and dance, and in such sprightly out- 
 bursts as the following lines, wherein Goldoni voices 
 the charms of the fair fisher maidens who dwell upon 
 the isle where his convivial spirits are gathered : 
 
 Dost think Venetian girls alone are true 
 And virtuous? Though we Giudeccans 
 Are not nobly born, yet have we character. 
 Let those who seek attractive girls, seek us 
 In taste and mien, Giudecca's maids are ne'er 
 Excelled; a flower or ribbon in their hair, 
 And I am sure men must admit their hearts 
 Are stolen. In dancing la forlana 
 Girls of Venice teach them naught. Of myself 
 I speak not; I'm not one of them, but on 
 The banks of this canal they shine like stars; 
 Pretty faces, slender waists, little feet 
 Entrancing: Ah, if you might see them here! 
 Alas, they will not all step forth, I fear. 
 
 Having extolled his boon companions in The Jo- 
 vial Men, Goldoni "paid court" during the follow- 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 461 
 
 ing year, so he tells us, "to the women of his land" 
 in The Jovial Women (Le Morbinose), a comedy 
 of carnival time in which a merry band of girls and 
 married women play pranks upon a stiff and formal 
 Tuscan until they imbue him with the blithesome 
 spirit of their town, and love for one of their number 
 too. Yet, full of innocent devilries as these ladies are, 
 one cannot help pitying poor Zanetto, prototype of 
 many a modern husband, whose wife "gads all day" ; 
 for when 2anetto's wife goes merrily forth to the 
 piazza in mask and domino she takes with her the 
 family purse and the keys of the pantry, too, thus 
 forcing him to beg a surreptitious meal from the ser- 
 vant of one of her gay friends. 
 
 By far the most significant, as well as the most 
 charming, of Goldoni's comedies in Venetian verse is 
 The Public Square (II Campiello) a play of the com- 
 mon people in which is depicted the life of one of 
 those little open spaces called campielli, where two 
 tortuous Venetian streets cross each other and a whole 
 neighbourhood works and plays. Here in the sun- 
 light, artisans hammer and pedlars shout, urchins 
 prattle and women altercate; for here, away from 
 the sluggish canals, the splash of the gondola's oar 
 is not heard, nor my lady's laugh beneath her scented 
 mask. The campiello which is the scene of this play, 
 Goldoni tells us, "is surrounded by little houses in- 
 habited by the lower orders, where gaming, dancing, 
 and a hubbub take place" ; yet the gaming is so super- 
 stitious, the dancing so spontaneous, and the hubbub 
 
462 GOLDONI 
 
 so voluble that only in a Latin land could they ob- 
 tain, while only in Venice is the soft speech of this 
 play lisped by her impetuous and light-hearted chil- 
 dren. So slight is the plot that it can scarcely be 
 called a play. Rather is it a rapidly moving picture 
 of the jealousies and joys of the simple folk who 
 dwell in the "little houses" of this campiello. From 
 the moment Zorzetto appears with his basket of crock- 
 ery prizes, to collect the copper bezzi of the house- 
 wives for la venturing his lottery game, until pretty 
 Gasparina, who uses z instead of s to show her plebe- 
 ian neighbours she is a zentildonna, goes proudly off 
 to wed an impoverished Neapolitan cavalier and re- 
 pair his fortunes with the sequins her crabbed uncle 
 has saved for her dowry, there is a succession of spir- 
 ited scenes depicted in Goldoni's truest vein. We 
 see the life of Venice and hear the gabble of her 
 streets : the young make love, and both old and young 
 eat, drink, gamble, dance, and speak ill of their neigh- 
 bours, in a way so true to nature that we forget this 
 softly rhymed picture couched in verses of varying 
 measure is a play and not a little piece of life snatched 
 bodily from the streets of Venice. 
 Indeed it is in his untranslatable, unconventional 
 plays of the people, such as The Public Square, that 
 Goldoni, the true poet of a people, is unique among 
 the word's great dramatists. What matters it that 
 this bit of dramatic gossamer is held together by the 
 merest thread of a plot? Old Pasqua, the busy-body, 
 and old Gate, the babbler, who squabble and tell each 
 
THE PASTRY HUCKSTRESS 
 
 Museo Correr 
 
COMEDIES IN VERSE 463 
 
 other plain truths, are not characters in a play, but 
 rather two flesh-and-blood gossips who step into 
 this campiello from their respective doorways, the 
 one to sweep it clear of refuse with her meddlesome 
 broom, the other to prattle its small talk. Moreover, 
 their daughters, Lucietta and Gnese, are a pair of 
 warm-blooded girls of Venice as ready to love as to 
 dance. Anzoletto and Zorzetto, who drag the whole 
 neighbourhood into lovers' quarrels as meaningless 
 as those of Chioggia, are warm-hearted lads of Ven- 
 ice, too, as quick to embrace as to fight, when once a 
 cavalier from Naples has offered to regale the neigh- 
 bourhood if they will stop their quarrel. Yes, this 
 campiello to which Goldoni leads us, across arched 
 bridges and through a maze of ill-smelling streets, 
 does not seem like the scene of a play; and when with 
 pretty Gasparina we leave it and the fair city of which 
 it is a homely part, well may we exclaim with her: 
 
 Alas, my Venice, oh, my dear, 
 
 How deep my grief now parting's near! 
 
 Before I leave, I hail thee, then 
 
 O dearest Venice, fare thee well, 
 
 O Venice mine, ah, fare thee well, 
 
 My good Venetians: gentlemen! 
 
 O Campiello dear, farewell; 
 
 Or plain or fair I cannot tell 
 
 If plain it brings my heart unease, 
 
 Yet fair's not fair unless it please. 
 
XIV 
 
 EXPATRIATION 
 
 AFTER Carlo Gozzi's triumph, Goldoni ac- 
 cepted, it will be remembered, an engage- 
 ment for two years as playwright of Les 
 Comediens du rol de la troupe itallenne and bade 
 farewell to the inconstant public he had served faith- 
 fully and brilliantly during fourteen laborious years. 
 "He was stripped of his theatrical honours," says 
 Baretti; while Chiari, his erstwhile rival, now en- 
 tirely forgotten, retired to a country-house in the 
 environs of Brescia. 1 Although his fickle country- 
 men worshipped at a false god's shrine, Goldoni's 
 fame was still sufficient to insure him a livelihood 
 abroad. 
 
 The first gentlemen of the King's bedchamber 
 had instructed Francesco Antonio Zanuzzi, an actor 
 of the Comedie Italienne, who knew the dramatist, 
 to bid him come to Paris, the invitation being offi- 
 cially delivered to him by the French ambassador in 
 Venice. Goldoni's Parisian engagement therefore 
 was an official appointment; yet his salary seems to 
 have been paid in part by private subscription. In a 
 letter to a friend in Vienna, Favart, the father of 
 
 1 An Account of the Manners and Customs of Italy. 
 464 
 
EXPATRIATION 465 
 
 French opera comique, who became Goldoni's Pari- 
 sian crony, says that he was to be paid seven thousand 
 francs a year, 2 and that several lovers of Italian had 
 promised to contribute a portion of that sum, one 
 ardent man of letters who did not understand that 
 language being willing to subscribe twenty-five louis 
 "for the actors' gestures." 
 
 France was in the throes of the Seven Years' War 
 and her finances were in a hopeless muddle; yet there 
 was money enough both in her public treasury and in 
 the purses of her citizens to hire a gifted foreigner 
 whose praises had been sung by her foremost man 
 of letters. With Voltaire's approval to give him 
 courage, and the promise of a more bountiful salary 
 than he had ever enjoyed in Venice, Goldoni made 
 leisurely preparations for his journey. His aunt 
 went to live with relatives, and his niece, Petronilla 
 Margherita, was placed in a convent, the supervision 
 of her education and welfare being confided to Jean 
 Cornet, a Frenchman engaged in business in Venice 
 with his elder brother Gabriel, the agent of the 
 Elector of Bavaria. To his worthless brother Gian 
 Paolo, Goldoni magnanimously consigned the in- 
 come of such property as had escaped the wreck of 
 the family fortune, and, after entrusting Count 
 Gasparo Gozzi with the proof-reading of the sub- 
 scription edition of his works which Pasquali was 
 publishing, he left Venice during the month of April, 
 
 2 In a letter to Albergati-Capacelli (Jan. loth, 1764) Goldoni states 
 that his salary was six thousand francs. 
 
466 GOLDONI 
 
 1762, accompanied by patient Nicoletta, his wife, 
 and Antonio Francesco Goldoni, his nephew, then 
 a lad of twelve or thereabouts. 
 
 Journeying by way of Padua and Ferrara to 
 Bologna, he there visited the Marchese Albergati- 
 Capacelli, and wrote for his host, though suffering 
 from rheumatic fever, a merry play for music. 3 
 Being bled by candlelight, he had the great pleasure 
 "of seeing his blood, black as mulberries, yet unin- 
 flamed, strong, and vigorous, gush forth as from a 
 fountain." 4 
 
 After his recovery he enjoyed for a time the atten- 
 tions of both Albergati and the latter's cicisbea, the 
 Contessa Orsi, then fared on to Parma to present the 
 first two volumes of the Pasquali edition to his ducal 
 patron Don Philip, spending on the way thither a 
 day at Reggio in the congenial company of Paradisi, 
 a poet engaged in translating Voltaire's tragedies. 5 
 At Parma he brushed up his French, obtained a re- 
 newal of his pension, was presented to the ladies of 
 the ducal family, and made peace with Frugoni, then 
 in his seventieth year, who was attached to the Par- 
 mesan court. 
 
 This aged poet, whose name was paraphrased by 
 Baretti to signify affected language, had, it appears, 
 paid metrical court some years previously to Aurisbe 
 Tarsense, a lady who in un-Arcadian fields was the 
 widow of a Venetian patrician of scant fortune, 
 
 3 La Bella verita. 
 
 4 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, July 2, 1762. 
 s Ibid. 
 
EXPATRIATION 467 
 
 named Giannantonio Gritti. Chiari, too, had sung 
 her praises as the Eurilla of his pastoral verse, but 
 Goldoni enjoyed her "passionate adoration." When 
 in 1759 our dramatist addressed to her some verses 
 in which Frugoni was satirized, the old bard's 
 jealous anger burst its bounds and he did not make 
 peace with him until he visited Parma on the way to 
 France. 6 "This new Petrarch had his Laura in 
 Venice," Goldoni says. "He sang from afar the 
 graces and talents of charming Aurisbe Tarsense, a 
 shepherdess of Arcadia, while I saw her every day. 
 Frugoni was jealous of me and was glad to see me 
 take my departure." 
 
 Having some volumes of his plays to present to 
 Princess Henrietta of Modena, Goldoni went to her 
 country seat when he left Parma and there passed 
 three days "delightfully"; journeying thence to 
 Piacenza, he and his family were entertained in that 
 city by the Marquis Casati, a subscriber to the Pas- 
 quali edition, and from beneath his hospitable roof 
 they travelled to Genoa, where, amid "the tears and 
 sobs" of good Nicoletta's relations, they embarked 
 in a felucca for Antibes. 
 
 After nearly foundering while doubling the Cape 
 of Noli, the felucca luckily reached the roadstead of 
 that town and remained at anchor there until the sea 
 subsided sufficiently for her to proceed to Nice, 
 where our travellers were glad to disembark and go 
 by carriage to Antibes. "I set out from Nice the 
 
 6 Giuseppe Ortolani: op. cit. ; Achille Neri: Aneddote goldoniane. 
 
4 68 GOLDONI 
 
 next day/' says Goldoni, "and crossed the Var, which 
 separates France from Italy. I bade farewell anew 
 to my country and invoked the shade of Moliere to 
 guide me in his." 
 
 At the frontier he "caught a first glimpse of 
 French politeness" ; for his trunks, which had been 
 ransacked by Italian customs-officers, were not dis- 
 turbed, while at Antibes the commandant refused 
 to examine his passport, and told him "to leave 
 quickly because Paris awaited him impatiently." 
 Heedless of this admonition, he journeyed slowly by 
 way of Marseilles, Aix, and Avignon, to Lyons, 
 where, receiving a curt letter from Zanuzzi urging 
 haste, he learned that the forces of the Comedie 
 Italienne had been united since his departure from 
 Venice with those of the Opera Comique, the receipts 
 of the Italians having sunk too low to warrant their 
 sole use of the Hotel de Bourgogne. 
 
 Though his talents had been engaged to buoy up 
 the sinking fortunes of his countrymen, though he 
 confesses that Zanuzzi's letter ought to have made 
 him leave Lyons immediately, he tarried in that city 
 nearly a fortnight in order to see its sights and be 
 dined and wined by its rich manufacturers. Con- 
 tinuing his journey when it suited his convenience, he 
 enjoyed the beauties of the fertile land through which 
 he passed, and reached Villejuif, in the environs of 
 Paris, on August 26th, 1762, more than four months 
 after his departure from Venice. There he was met 
 by Zanuzzi and Elena Savi, the leading lady of the 
 
EXPATRIATION 469 
 
 troupe he had come to serve. Escorting him to the 
 capital in their own carriage, they lodged and supped 
 him in their apartment in the Faubourg St. Denis, 
 and when he opened his eyes on the morrow his 
 .awakening was as pleasant as his dreams, for he was 
 ^'in Paris and happy." 
 
 Hastening forth on foot with Zanuzzi, he paid his 
 respects to the Due d'Aumont, the officiating gen- 
 tleman of the king's bedchamber, catching, mean- 
 while, a sight of the great city he was "dying to see." 
 In the evening he dined with Camilla Veronese, the 
 soubrette of the Italian troupe, who was a daughter 
 of a provincial pantaloon he had known at Feltre 
 when he was coadjutor to the criminal chancellor of 
 that town. After "a very dainty dinner," shared with 
 an entertaining company, he went to the Hotel de 
 Bourgogne and listened to a French opera comique 
 which he found to be "a strange mixture of prose and 
 tunes." 
 
 But he had not come to Paris merely to enjoy its 
 sights and pleasures; therefore he rented an apart- 
 ment near the Comedie Italienne and began to study 
 the characteristics of the actors for whom he was to 
 write comedies, a task in which he was materially 
 aided by his neighbour Madame Francesco Ricco- 
 boni, 7 an actress who had recently retired from the 
 
 7 Marie Jeanne de Heurles de Laboras de Mezieres (1714-1792), trans- 
 lator of Fielding's Amelia and author of Miss Jenny, a novel Goldoni 
 translated into Italian during the last years of his life. Her husband, the 
 ^on of Luigi Riccoboni, was an actor and playwright, as well as the 
 author of L'Art du theatre. 
 
47 o GOLDONI 
 
 stage to devote herself to literature, and who knew 
 the Italian players so thoroughly that her account of 
 their talents proved to be "very just" and worthy of 
 her "honesty and sincerity." 
 
 The plays he wrote while in France form the topic 
 of the succeeding chapter; hence it is only necessary 
 to record here that during the two years of his en- 
 gagement with the Comedie Italienne he worked 
 faithfully in the fulfilment of his contract, some thirty 
 scenari and comedies being penned by him. The 
 Italian players he served, being inexperienced in act- 
 ing written plays and their public used to seeing them 
 in extemporized farces, he was compelled to turn 
 backward in his art and begin again the reform of 
 comedy for which he had striven so valiantly in his 
 native land. Meanwhile he learned to love Paris 
 and her people. 
 
 His modest temporary lodgings three rooms and 
 a study, for which he paid a monthly rental of sixty- 
 four francs were in the Rue Comtesse d'Artois ; 8 
 near by stood the Hotel de Bourgogne, where the 
 Italians played, and scarcely a stone's throw away 
 were the Louvre and the Palais Royal. Living in 
 its very heart he fell a victim to the allurement of the 
 bright city he thus describes : 
 
 Paris is a world in itself. Everything there is on a large scale ; 
 there is much that is good and much that is bad. Whether you 
 go to the theatres, the promenades, or the pleasure resorts, every 
 place is full even to the churches, and everywhere there is a 
 crowd. In a city of eight hundred thousand souls there must 
 8 Letter to Gabriel Cornet, Sept. 6, 1762. 
 
EXPATRIATION 471 
 
 necessarily be more good and bad people than anywhere else . . . 
 The rake will easily find the means to satisfy his passions. A 
 good man will be encouraged in the exercise of his virtues. . . . 
 The further I went the more I became absorbed in the ranks, 
 the classes, the ways of living and the different modes of thinking. 
 . . . But in the course of time I looked with another eye upon 
 that immense city, its people, its amusements, and its dangers. I 
 had had time for reflection and I had learned that the confusion 
 I had experienced was not a physical or moral defect of the land; 
 hence I decided in all good faith that curiosity and impatience 
 had been the cause of my bewilderment, and that it was possible 
 to enjoy Paris and be amused there, without growing weary, and 
 without sacrificing one's time and tranquillity. 
 
 Before beginning his work at the Comedie Ital- 
 ienne, he obtained from its actors a furlough of four 
 months for the purpose of studying their character- 
 istics and requirements. While enjoying the leisure 
 thus acquired he went to Fontainebleau, during the 
 autumn of 1762, and witnessed there a command per- 
 formance of his scenario, Harlequin's Son Lost and 
 Found. But so many quips from Moliere's Ima- 
 ginary Cuckold (Le Cocu imaginaire) were inter- 
 polated, he says, that "the court was displeased and 
 the play a failure." This bungling of his scenario 
 by comedians greedy for laughs showed him that he 
 did not have to do with such actors as he had left 
 behind him in Italy, and that he was no longer the 
 master he had been at home. He saw the royal fam- 
 ily, however, the ministers and diplomats, and viewed 
 at close range the glitter of a profligate court, "the 
 Dauphin being gracious enough to speak to him 
 
 twice." 9 
 
 9 Letter to Gabriel Cornet, Oct. 24th, 1762. 
 
472 GOLDONI 
 
 Upon returning to Paris he moved from his modest 
 rooms in the rue Comtesse d'Artois to more preten- 
 tious quarters overlooking the gardens of the Palais 
 Royal, which he furnished tastefully at an expense of 
 four thousand francs "in the hope that the Muses 
 would descend more willingly upon the verdure sur- 
 rounding his study and the allurement of the light o' 
 loves who strolled beneath his windows. 10 From his 
 study he could see petits maitres ogling pretty 
 women, ardent lovers lolling with their mistresses 
 beneath the trees, and a novel sight certainly to 
 one who came from the land of cicisbeism hus- 
 bands promenading contentedly with their wives. 
 Opposite his window stood the famous Cracow tree, 
 under the spreading branches of which newsmongers 
 discussed the affairs of the nation ; on the footway be- 
 fore the neighbouring Cafe de Foy light-hearted 
 merrymakers breakfasted in the open air. 
 
 Such relaxations were helpful to him at times, he 
 says, "since they rested his mind agreeably and he 
 was able to return to his work with more vigour and 
 cheerfulness." He had need, alas, of both these qual- 
 ities, for when the Italian actors produced the first 
 comedy he wrote for their stage, 11 it failed so dis- 
 mally that it was withdrawn after its fourth per- 
 formance. Yet the time for a successful play was 
 propitious. War had drained the resources of the 
 nation during seven ignoble years, and peace was 
 being signed in Paris at that very moment. 
 
 10 Letter to Albergati, Jan. 24, 1763. ^L'Amore paterno. 
 
EXPATRIATION 473 
 
 Although the French public was attuned to merri- 
 ment, Goldoni had not yet learned its taste, and the 
 chagrin he experienced was so great that he was on 
 the point of leaving Paris. Pride and the charm of 
 that fair city kept him at his task, however, until he 
 had fulfilled his contract; but after his first failure 
 the Italian actors lost faith in him. "They won't 
 learn comedies that are written," he complained, "and 
 they don't know how to improvise them." When 
 the first year of his engagement drew to a close he 
 vowed that if the second had no better fortune he 
 would leave Paris. "Man does not live by bread 
 alone," he confessed to his friend Albergati, 12 "for 
 reputation is the food of upright men, and that will 
 make me return to Italy sooner." But instead of 
 forsaking the country of his adoption, he acceded to 
 the actors' demands for improvised comedies. 
 
 Early in the second year of his engagement one of 
 the scenari he penned 13 proved so successful that he 
 was able to announce to Albergati the establishment 
 of his Parisian reputation; a triumph fully attested 
 by his contemporaries, since Grimm saw in this pros- 
 titution of his dramatic talents to the exigencies of 
 the theatre, enough material for three or four come- 
 dies; while Favart declared that it forced all the 
 French actors to admit there had been no such genius 
 since Moliere. Moreover, Desboulmiers, a lesser 
 light, exclaimed that "it would be necessary to be 
 
 12 Letter of Aug. isth, 1763. 
 
 13 Gli Amori di Arlecchino e dl Camilla, produced Sept. 27th, 1763. 
 
474 GOLDONI 
 
 Moliere in order to be able to praise its author worth- 
 ily." 14 
 
 The gall of previous failure was tempered by this 
 success; yet to win it Goldoni resorted to the tricks 
 of the improvised comedy he had fought so valiantly 
 to banish from the Italian stage. "Any sacrifice, 
 however, was sweet," he declares, "any trouble bear- 
 able for the pleasure of remaining two years in 
 Paris"; his love for that engaging city being en- 
 hanced, no doubt, by the many friends he acquired 
 as a stranger within its hospitable gates, and the re- 
 spect paid to his talents by its actors and playwrights. 
 
 As a distinguished foreigner he had the entree to 
 the Comedie Franchise, and on the occasion of his 
 first visit to that classic playhouse, when he saw Mo- 
 liere's Misanthrope performed by "incomparable 
 actors," he longed to see one of his own pieces 
 played by "such fellows," a satisfaction the Fates, 
 as will be seen, had in store for him. It is not strange 
 that he >hould have been impressed by the acting of 
 Les Gomediens du roi de la troupe franqaise, since 
 in their ranks at that time were Mme. Champmesle, 
 Mile. Clairon, Lekain, Preville, and Mole a his- 
 trionic galaxy that perhaps has never been eclipsed. 
 To the art of the Comedie Franchise Goldoni pays 
 this still merited tribute: 
 
 Jftere is the school of declamation where nothing is forced, either 
 in gesture or expression; the steps, the movements of the arms, 
 the glances, the dumb scenes are studied; yet art hides the study 
 under the semblance of nature. 
 
 14 E. Maddalena: Goldoni e Favart; Giulio Caprin: op. cit. ; etc. 
 
EXPATRIATION 475 
 
 Though the plays he saw at the House of Moliere 
 were surpassingly acted, one of them, Diderot's 
 Father of a Family (Pere de famille) involved him 
 in a contretemps with its distinguished author. When 
 the production of this didactic comedy was an- 
 nounced, Freron, the journalist whom Voltaire had 
 satirized upon the stage, maliciously said in print 
 that, as Diderot had filched scenes from Goldoni's 
 True Friend (II Vero amico) to embellish his Nat- 
 ural Son (Le Fils naturel), it was reasonable to 
 suppose that since the Venetian had already given 
 birth to a Father of a Family, chance might again 
 make the comedies of these actors coincide. 
 
 "God gave Diderot every quality," says Arsene 
 Houssaye; 15 and in the generous distribution resent- 
 ment was apparently included, for the great ency- 
 clopaedist was so nettled by this largely unmerited 
 charge of plagiarism that he took occasion to dis- 
 miss the dramatist he was accused of imitating as 
 "Charles Goldoni, who has written some sixty 
 farces." 16 Moreover, when his Venetian rival, ac- 
 companied by Duni, the composer, paid him a cere- 
 monious visit in the hope of convincing him that his 
 indignation was unmerited, Diderot resented so 
 warmly the wound Goldoni had inadvertently dealt 
 his pride that Duni, to mollify him, was obliged to 
 quote these lines of Tasso : 
 
 'T is time all bitter memories were effaced, 
 And bygone things by amnesty embraced. 
 
 ^Histoire du XLme Fauteull. 16 De la Poesie dramatique. 
 
476 GOLDONI 
 
 Diderot "appeared to subscribe to these senti- 
 ments," says Goldoni, and after reciprocal compli- 
 ments had passed between the encyclopaedist and him- 
 self, he took his leave, feeling that he had gained the 
 esteem of a man who had been sadly prejudiced 
 against him and that he might count that a triumphal 
 day. It proved at least a convivial day, since he 
 dined that evening with a coterie of nine literary in- 
 timates who, because they broke bread together every 
 Sunday, styled themselves the Dominicaux, their 
 weekly meetings for good fellowship and cheer being 
 termed Dominicales. 
 
 Favart, the librettist, whose romantic love-story 
 still awaits a novelist's pen, was a member of this club, 
 and he probably introduced his Italian colleague 
 to its select precincts. Even before the latter's ad- 
 vent in France, Favart had acclaimed him "our dear 
 Goldoni"; moreover, three or four days after his 
 arrival, the transalpine dramatist praised Favart in 
 verse, "his house being one of the first, if not the 
 first, he frequented in Paris." 17 
 
 To the end of his life Favart remained Goldoni's 
 friend, and so did Pierre Antoine de la Place, the 
 journalist another of these Dominicaux; the other 
 members of the coterie being De la Garde, the critic 
 who was La Pompadour's secretary; Saurin, the 
 Academician; Antoine Louis, secretary of the Royal 
 Academy of Surgery; Jouen, a fameless adherent; 
 the younger Crebillon, and the Abbe de la Porte, a 
 
 17 E. Maddalena: Goldoni e Favart. 
 
EXPATRIATION 477 
 
 gazetteer whose aim was to discredit all that scur- 
 rilous Freron praised. 
 
 Had not Goldoni penned The Inquisitive Women 
 before he came to France, this play might have been 
 inspired by the Dominicaux, for the only law gov- 
 erning their festivities, he tells us, "was to exclude 
 women." Yet brazen Sophie Arnould, of angelic 
 voice and racy tongue, invaded a dominicale held at 
 La Pompadour's hotel with De la Garde as the host, 
 and so captivated the misogynic revellers with her 
 beauty and wit that they proclaimed her their "sole 
 dominical sister." 18 
 
 Having no role that day, the diva bade them attend 
 the opera with her, but the songs Goldoni had heard 
 in drawing-rooms made him loath to subject his Ital- 
 ian tympani to the strain of French screeching on a 
 larger scale. To convince him that he misjudged 
 the native music, fair Sophie sang him a song with 
 her own charming voice. "Kiss me," she cried, as 
 the last notes died away, "and come to the opera," 
 a dual invitation a man addicted to soubrettes could 
 not well withstand. At the opera he found that 
 "everything was beautiful and magnificent, except 
 the music," and shocked his French friends by de- 
 claring when the curtain fell that "it had been heaven 
 for the eyes but hell for the ears," a verdict according 
 with Rousseau's dictum that "there is neither measure 
 nor melody in France." 
 
 Thus in the agreeable society of literary men and 
 
 18 Dedication to Favart of Un Curioso accidente. 
 
478 GOLDONI 
 
 stage-folk, Goldoni passed the leisure moments of 
 the years he served the Comedie Italienne, and 
 though he had turned life's half-way mark, his eyes 
 were not too dim, it would seem, to blink at the sight 
 of a pretty face. Regarding the wiles of Parisian 
 soubrettes he is singularly silent; yet he says it would 
 be impossible "to be more blithe and pleasing" than 
 Camilla Veronese, the soubrette of the Italian 
 troupe; so perhaps his susceptible heart was victim- 
 ized by her charms. At all events, like the Panta- 
 lone of his Whimsical Old Man, he was "a well pre- 
 served winter pear with plenty of pulp, juice, and 
 substance," since during the second year of his en- 
 gagement with the Comedie Italienne he was haled 
 before a French tribunal by a certain Catherine 
 Lefebvre and charged with being her betrayer. The 
 lady bore an alias, however, and the case was settled 
 out of court; therefore, it is to be hoped that good 
 Papa Goldoni, instead of being guilty at his ripe 
 age of such an iniquity, had merely been unwary 
 enough to be entrapped by a wily blackmailer on the 
 outlook for guileless foreigners. 19 
 
 Although biographical candour prevents the gloss- 
 ing over of this shady incident, it is a relief, never- 
 theless, to turn from it to an honourable intercourse. 
 Goldoni had known in Venice, it will be remembered, 
 Madame du Boccage, whom he had called "the 
 Parisian Sappho," and in her "agreeable and instruc- 
 
 19 E. Campardon : Les Comediens du roi de la troupe Italienne. V. 
 Carrera: Di un nuovo documento intorno alba vita di C. G. 
 
EXPATRIATION 479 
 
 tive conversation" had whiled away many a plea- 
 surable hour. When he set out for Paris, Count Al- 
 garotti, a cosmopolitan literary globe-trotter of con- 
 siderable notoriety and little merit, charged him, on 
 behalf of Farsetti, a poet, with the delivery to her 
 of a book. Goldoni mislaid it and several months 
 passed before he could find it, and meanwhile he 
 dared not pay his respects to his talented friend, the 
 poetess. When he finally found Farsetti's book he 
 presented it, together with profuse apologies for his 
 dereliction, to Madame du Boccage, who forthwith 
 invited him to dine. "Goldoni loves Paris madly," 
 she wrote Algarotti after the dramatist had been her 
 guest. 20 "Even the hubbub of the streets pleases him, 
 and save for the opera and the high cost of pro- 
 visions, he is enchanted with everything." 
 
 In the salon of Madame du Boccage notable peo- 
 ple of all nationalities gathered, "every foreigner dis- 
 tinguished for his good qualities or his talents being 
 eager upon arriving in Paris to pay court to her." 
 Her genial Venetian guest was persona grata also in 
 the drawing-rooms of the Countess Bianchetti, a 
 charming fellow-countrywoman, and Madame Po- 
 thovin d'Huillet, the widow of a Parisian legal light, 
 who spoke Italian fluently. He so bored Madame 
 du Deffand, however, when he read her one of his 
 best comedies, that to Horace Walpole she pro- 
 nounced it "the coldest and flattest play of the day." 21 
 
 20 Letter to Algarotti, March 24th, 1763. 
 
 21 Letter to Walpole, Oct. 9th, 1771. The play was Le Bourru bien- 
 jaisant. 
 
480 GOLDONI 
 
 Yet all Frenchwomen of intelligence did not thus 
 decry Goldoni's talent. Jeanne Franchise Floncel, 
 the wife of a noted bibliophile, translated two acts 
 of his Venetian Advocate into French, while "a 
 charming lady," whom he fails to name, not only 
 introduced him to a Parisian dandy as "the Moliere 
 of Italy," but so encouraged him by praising some 
 scenari 22 he had outlined for the Comedie Italienne 
 that he made from them a pleasing trilogy of written 
 comedies for the stage of his native city. 
 
 At the Venetian embassy he was ever a welcome 
 guest, and to the Chevalier Tiepolo, the ambassador, 
 he dedicated the first comedy he penned in France. 23 
 Though Tiepolo soon retired from the service, his 
 successors, Andrea Gradenigo and Sebastiano and 
 Giovanni Mocenigo, continued the ambassadorial 
 courtesy, the last named being the patrician whose 
 wedding to a doge's daughter Goldoni had attended 
 in 1752. At the table of Voltaire's friend, Count 
 d'Argental, the Parmesan plenipotentiary, as well as 
 in his private theatre, there was always a seat for our 
 dramatist, and under this hospitable roof he met many 
 a congenial literary amateur. The Dutch ambassa- 
 dor, too, honoured him with his protection, while 
 with his excellency's colleagues of the diplomatic 
 corps, he "passed agreeably," he says, "a considerable 
 portion of his time." 
 
 Only his failure to satisfy his dramatic ambitions 
 
 22 Gli Amori di Arlecchino e dl Camilla; La Gelosia di Arlecchino; 
 Le Inquietudini di Camilla. 23 L'Amore paterno. 
 
EXPATRIATION 481 
 
 marred the pleasure of his life in Paris> for he was 
 treated with distinction by society, whilst among the 
 Dominicaux he found the good companions "that do 
 converse and waste the time together." The two 
 most notable Frenchmen in his own profession he 
 does not confess to knowing; but Marivaux, whose 
 talents were only begrudgingly recognized by his con- 
 temporaries, was dying almost in obscurity, whilst 
 the star of Beaumarchais's genius has not yet risen. 
 Voltaire, whose sponsorship had given Goldoni an 
 international reputation, was in Switzerland, and 
 Rousseau he did not know until a later date ; but Mar- 
 montel "honoured him with his friendship" and 
 praised his work in the Mercure de France. 
 
 When the glory of the Dominicaux had waned, 
 Goldoni assisted Favart and De la Place in the for- 
 mation of a new club he styles a pique-nique, which 
 met once a week at L'Epee de Bois, an inn near the 
 Louvre. At this convivial board he became intimate 
 with a coterie of minor literary and dramatic lights, 
 among whom the poets Laujon and Colardeau are 
 perhaps the least obscure. But the pique-nique club 
 was disrupted by the introduction of an uncongenial 
 pamphleteer who had criticized one of its members 
 adversely; therefore "it ended," Goldoni says, "like 
 the Dominical 'e." 
 
 Thus in dining and wining, in dalliance and agree- 
 able converse, he passed the idle moments of his two 
 years' engagement with the Comedie Italienne, his 
 dutiful wife being immured, meanwhile, like the 
 
482 GOLDONI 
 
 wife of one of his inimitable boors. "She amused 
 herself little in Paris," he assured Albergati, "be- 
 cause she could not understand or make herself un- 
 derstood"; whilst he, on the contrary, "spoke and un- 
 derstood either well or badly and enjoyed himself." 
 In truth he found Paris "a fine region for a man who 
 liked good society," and although all of its people 
 were not sincere, none were displeasing, courtesy be- 
 ing, as he says, "the national characteristic." 24 
 
 When in the spring of 1764 his engagement with 
 the Comedie Italienne came to an end, the moderate 
 success his plays had enjoyed made the Italian actors 
 loath to renew their contract with him, 25 whilst he 
 was unwilling to continue his humiliating efforts to 
 please the French public with scenari instead of writ- 
 ten comedies. Moreover, "six thousand francs were 
 not enough for a well-bred man to live upon in 
 Paris," he complained, and he could not endure see- 
 ing "incapable actors earn fifteen thousand," 26 an 
 unjust disparity that still obtains between the play- 
 wright's royalties and the .actor's salary, for without 
 plays that please the million, even the most brilliant 
 of stars will bring ruin to his manager. 
 
 Being in a quandary, Goldoni thought of returning 
 to Venice, whence Vendramin was importuning him 
 
 24 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, Oct. 25, 1762. 
 
 25 According to A. G. Spinelli, Fogli Sparsi, on March 9, 1764 Goldoni 
 was no longer playwright of the Comedie Italienne, but the gentlemen 
 of the King's Chamber retained Goldoni in Paris. He continued to 
 write occasionally for the Comedie Italienne until Easter, 1765. See 
 also Goldoni's letter of April 16, 1764, in Masi, Letter e. 
 
 26 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, Jan. loth, 1764. 
 
EXPATRIATION 483 
 
 for comedies; but there his arch-enemy's theatrical 
 fables were still the vogue, and there Baretti was 
 accusing him of having "debauched the minds and 
 hearts of his countrymen." "Good, bad, or indiffer- 
 ent though I may be," he complained bitterly, 27 "Ba- 
 retti can neither add anything to me nor subtract any- 
 thing from me" ; yet he did not subject himself to the 
 immediate sting of this critic's literary scourge. 
 From Lisbon, Vienna and London he received tempt- 
 ing offers, but he loved Paris, and "Dame Fortune," 
 he said, "wished him to be there." 28 
 
 "A lucky star came to his aid," he declares, "in the 
 person of Mademoiselle Sylvestre, reader to the 
 Dauphiness, Marie Josephe de Saxe, mother of Louis 
 XVI." That lady, the daughter of a Saxon painter, 
 received from her compatriot the Dauphiness "all 
 the credit that her talents and demeanour merited." 
 Besides, she understood Italian and had read Gol- 
 doni's comedies, so when she learned of his reluctance 
 to leave Paris, she suggested his name to her royal 
 mistress as an aspirant for the post of court instructor 
 in Italian. As the outcome of this friendly inter- 
 cession, he was engaged to teach the fourth born of 
 Louis XV's ten legitimate children, Madame Ade- 
 laide, whose deceased sister, Princess Louise Elisa- 
 beth, or Madame L'Infante, as she was called, had 
 been the wife of his patron, the Duke of Parma. 
 When he presented himself at the door of the Dauph- 
 
 27 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, April 16, 1764. 
 
 28 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, March 18, 1765. 
 
484 GOLDONI 
 
 iness in the palace at Versailles, his friend Favart 29 
 says he mistook the smiling woman who greeted him 
 at the threshold for a lady-in-waiting. 
 
 "Welcome, Monsieur Goldoni," she said; "I hear 
 that you like France." 
 
 "Yes, madame," he answered. 
 
 "Very well, then, we wish you to remain, since it 
 gives you pleasure. Would you like to teach Ma- 
 dame Adelaide Italian?" 
 
 "Ah, madame," he exclaimed; "it is too ... too 
 
 "Follow me," said the lady, relieving his embar- 
 rassment; "I will take you to her," and when she saw 
 his hesitation she said : 
 
 "I believe you don't know me." 
 
 "No, madame," he answered, "I have not that hon- 
 our." 
 
 "It 's an acquaintance to make," she laughed, "and 
 I hope it will be a good acquaintance for both you 
 and me." 
 
 Leading him to Madame Adelaide's apartment, 
 she said with "bourgeois familiarity": 
 
 "Sister, let me introduce your teacher" ; whereupon 
 the amazed dramatist realized for the first time that 
 the supposed lady-in-waiting was the Dauphiness her- 
 self. 
 
 Madame Adelaide proved equally gracious. 
 
 "Are you sure you wish me for a pupil ?" she asked ; 
 
 29 Letter to Count Giacomo Durazzo, March 5, 1765. 
 
EXPATRIATION 485 
 
 and when she saw he was too embarrassed to do more 
 than bow, she continued: 
 
 "These are the arrangements I propose. Except 
 on fete days and Sundays, we will take an hour's 
 lesson every day in the morning. No, not every day, 
 for you may have matters to attend to in Paris. I 
 don't wish to disturb you; therefore we will work 
 only three days a week; but without bothering you, 
 for if you have something important on hand you will 
 be at liberty to tell me. But you mustn't trouble 
 yourself about anything. We will get lodgings for 
 you here. You will live with us, for we are simple 
 folk." 
 
 The hapless Dauphin, who died within the year, 
 strolled into the room, and, treating Goldoni with 
 equal kindness, showed him some Italian songs. 
 Nothing being said regarding emoluments, the new 
 tutor retired when it suited the royal pleasure, glory- 
 ing in so honourable an employment, and "sure of 
 the bounty of his august pupils"; "Providence," as he 
 wrote his friend Cornet, 30 "having betokened its bless- 
 ings, and God having freed him from the actors," 
 who, as he remarks in his memoirs, "were perhaps not 
 vexed at getting rid of him." 
 
 His post, however, was not the sinecure Favart's 
 account of his audience with the royal family would 
 indicate, for instead of giving Madame Adelaide an 
 hour's lesson three times a week, in a letter to Al- 
 
 30 Feb. 24, 1765. 
 
4 86 GOLDONI 
 
 bergati, 31 written soon after he began his new duties, 
 Goldoni says that he taught her five times a week, 
 the lessons lasting from two and a half to three hours, 
 with the time divided into four equal parts, devoted 
 respectively to reading Muratori's annals, to a philo- 
 logical discussion of the Italian and French lan- 
 guages, to the reading and translation of the tutor's 
 own comedies, and to speaking, writing, and arguing 
 in Italian. A rigorous morning's work it Would 
 seem; yet his royal pupil was no pampered princess, 
 Mesdames de France, despite their father's moral 
 laxity, having been strenuously reared. 
 
 Lodgings in the Chateau de Versailles were as- 
 signed Goldoni 32 within a few weeks after his duties 
 as royal tutor began. Meanwhile Madame Ade- 
 laide sent a post-chaise every day to fetch him from 
 Paris, and on one of these journeys, while reading 
 Rousseau's Lettres de la montagne, he suddenly lost 
 the use of his eyes. The book fell from his hand, 
 he says, and he could not see sufficiently to pick it 
 up. He could distinguish light, however, and when 
 he reached the chateau, managed to grope his way 
 to Madame Adelaide's apartment and take his ac- 
 customed seat on a footstool. The princess noted his 
 agitation, but he was too proud to confess the cause. 
 Believing he could fulfil his duties, he opened the 
 book they had been reading on the previous day, but 
 
 31 March 18, 1765. 
 
 32 In a letter to Albergati-Capacelli, May 3, 1765, he says that his 
 apartment in the Chateau was situated au second escalier attenant a La 
 Galerie des Princes au fond du corridor N. 107. 
 
EXPATRIATION 487 
 
 he could not see the print and was obliged to ac- 
 knowledge his disability. "It is impossible/' he 
 says, "to depict the kindness, the tenderness, the com- 
 passion of that great princess," for it was not the 
 salutary eye-washes she brought him with her own 
 hand or the attentions of her physician that made 
 him recover his sight, but her "kindness." His re- 
 covery was not complete, however, since he lost en- 
 tirely the use of his left eye. 
 
 Although the blindness of an eye was to his com- 
 placent mind "but a trifling inconvenience," at night 
 he was obliged to have a light beside him, a vexation 
 when playing cards, for when he moved his seat he 
 was forced to carry a candle, much to the annoyance 
 of the ladies with whom he gamed. He was a 
 crafty player, however, and one night at Versailles 
 he waited until Louis XV, who had the reputation 
 of being lucky, held the bank at lansquenet; then 
 risked upon it successfully six louis of his moderate 
 means. He was a discreet player, too, at least in 
 his old age, one who "preferred winning six francs 
 to losing them"; but like his associates at court, he 
 played habitually, since he could not pass an evening, 
 he confesses, "without doing anything, and after the 
 news of the day had been told, and one's neighbours, 
 and even one's friends, had been criticized, to game 
 was absolutely necessary." 
 
 His post in the household of Madame Adelaide, 
 or Madame Troisieme, as she was jokingly styled 
 until the successive deaths of her twin elder sisters 
 
4 88 GOLDONI 
 
 gave her the quality of first-born, 33 brought Goldoni 
 into intimate contact with court life. Although his 
 royal pupil told him that she and her family were 
 simple folk, she was nevertheless jealous of her rank 
 and a stickler in matters of etiquette. Moreover, 
 when her nephew married Marie Antoinette and 
 mounted the throne, she became the most meddle- 
 some of Mesdames tantes, as Louis XV's surviving 
 daughters were then called. 34 She showed none but 
 her good qualities to Goldoni, however, or else he 
 was a more accomplished courtier than he is willing 
 to acknowledge, he being ever warm in his praise of 
 her. Though she neglected for a considerable time 
 to recompense his services in the bountiful way he 
 had expected, she was gracious enough to chat with 
 his wife for half an hour on a certain occasion, 35 and 
 she permitted that worthy helpmate to accompany 
 her lord during the summer of 1765 when the King 
 and court went en villeglature to Marly and Com- 
 piegne. 
 
 While at the latter place, Goldoni received news 
 of the death of his benefactor, the Spanish Infant, 
 Don Philip, Duke of Parma, and mourned his loss 
 so deeply that the melancholia of his younger days 
 began to affect him once more. But his spirits were 
 soon brightened by the renewal of the Parmesan 
 pension he had enjoyed for nine years, his friend 
 Count d'Argental, the Parmesan plenipotentiary, 
 
 33 Louise-Marie, the third child of Louis XV, died in infancy. 
 
 34 Casirair Stryienski : Mesdames de France. 
 
 35 Letter to Gabriel Cornet, May 13, 1765. 
 

 EXPATRIATION 489 
 
 being the kind functionary who brought this lucky 
 event to pass. With his grief thus substantially as- 
 suaged, he was able to take a pleasure trip to Chan- 
 tilly before returning to his duties at Versailles. 
 
 While following Louis XV and his court on the 
 grands or petits voyages, or while fulfilling his peda- 
 gogic duties in the palace at Versailles, he was able 
 to view court life familiarly and enjoy occasions of 
 intimacy with the royal family, such as he thus de- 
 scribes : 
 
 I wrote an Italian cantata which I had set to music by an 
 Italian composer, and I presented it to the Dauphiness, who, in 
 accepting it, graciously commanded me to come to hear it played 
 in her rooms after supper. On this occasion I learned a point of 
 etiquette of which until then I had been ignorant. I entered the 
 royal apartment at 10 o'clock in the evening and presented myself 
 at the door of the cabinet des nobles. The usher did not prevent 
 me from entering: Monseigneur le Dauphin and Madame la 
 Dauphine being at table, I stepped aside to watch them sup. A 
 lady-in-waiting came toward me and asked if I had the entree in 
 the evening. "I do not know, madame," I answered, "the dif- 
 ference between the entree in the daytime and the entree in the 
 evening. The Princess herself commanded me to come to her 
 room after supper. I came too soon perhaps, but I did not know 
 the etiquette." "Monsieur," answered the lady, "there is none 
 for you; you may remain." I own that my self-esteem was not 
 a little gratified on this occasion. 
 
 I remained, and when the Prince and Princess retired to their 
 apartments, I was summoned and my cantata performed. The 
 Dauphiness played the harpsichord ; Madame Adelaide accompanied 
 her on the violin, and Mademoiselle Hardy (afterwards Madame 
 de la Brusse) sang. The music gave pleasure and compliments 
 were paid the author of the words, which I accepted modestly. 
 I wished to take my leave, but Monsieur le Dauphin had the good- 
 ness to detain me. He sang and I had the good fortune to hear 
 
490 
 
 GOLDONI 
 
 him; but what did he sing? a pathetic oratorio called The Pil- 
 grim at the Sepulchre. 
 
 Like the great Frenchman to whom he has been 
 injudiciously compared, Goldoni filled a minor post 
 at court, content, ay, even proud to be in the royal 
 service. But Moliere became a courtier to further 
 his art and outwit his enemies, and the Italian to 
 keep the wolf from his door; therefore the fawning 
 of these geniuses of comedy is certainly more venial 
 than venal. 
 
 Goldoni, however, confessed himself a poor syco- 
 phant. "If I did not profit by the royal favour," 
 he avers, "it was my own fault, for I did not know 
 how to beg. I was at court, yet I was not a courtier." 
 But he was not entirely devoid of parasitical quali- 
 ties, since he acknowledges that when he found him- 
 self one day in the presence of the Dauphin, the 
 Dauphiness, and Mesdames de France, he seized 
 the opportunity "to present and recommend his 
 nephew." 36 Moreover, when offered an engage- 
 ment in London (1770), he again belied his declara- 
 tion that he was not a courtier, for although he was 
 anxious to see a city "that alone could dispute the 
 supremacy with Paris," the time of the royal mar- 
 riages was approaching and he wished to be present 
 at these festivities. "Furthermore it was not the 
 / King of England who invited me," he exclaims, 
 /; "but the managers of the opera, who wished to at- 
 ; <i tach me to their enterprise." 
 
 36 Letter to Gabriel Cornet, May 13, 1765. 
 
THE DANCING LESSON 
 
 Gallcric dell'Accadania 
 
EXPATRIATION 491 
 
 When he accepted the post of tutor to Madame 
 Adelaide and her sisters, he relied on their bounty 
 for his livelihood; a misplaced confidence, it would 
 appear, since he declares that during the first year 
 of his tutorship he received but a hundred louis from 
 the royal treasury. But a greater misfortune 
 assailed him. His protector the Dauphin died 
 (Dec. 20, 1765) and was soon followed to the grave 
 by his fond wife, while the King lost his father-in- 
 law. Owing to the period of court mourning that 
 ensued, Madame Adelaide discontinued her Italian 
 lessons, and one fine morning the key of Goldoni's 
 apartment in the palace was demanded, he and his 
 family being ejected "to make room," as he expresses 
 it, "for some better man." 
 
 Though he saw his august friends from time to 
 time and was treated with kindness by them, Goldoni 
 did not know how to make them aware of his con- 
 dition, he declares; while they were too overcome 
 with grief to think of him. To be near the court, 
 though no longer of it, he rented lodgings in Ver- 
 sailles. "Fortune has made game of me," 37 he 
 sighed, and as his royalties from the plays he had 
 sent Vendramin materialized slowly, he was obliged 
 to borrow a hundred sequins from the Abate Sciugli- 
 aga, the Dalmatian friend who had once defended 
 him against the attacks of the Chiaristas. Within 
 the year, however, he was able to inform Albergati 38 
 that Madame Adelaide had assured him of her pro- 
 
 37 Letter of Oct. 8, 1765. 38 Letter of May 26, 1766. 
 
492 GOLDONI 
 
 tection and had presented him with a gold snuff-box 
 worth sixty louis, as well as a hundred louis in 
 cash. Seconded by Mesdames Victoire and Sophie, 
 her sisters, Madame Adelaide demanded for him the 
 title and emoluments of Instituteur d* I tali en des 
 Enfans de France, and when the ministry objected 
 to creating a new post to drain further an impover- 
 ished treasury, she insisted that she was merely ask- 
 ing a just recompense for services already rendered. 
 By demanding a pension of six thousand livres a 
 year for her protege, she managed to obtain four 
 thousand, from which sum four hundred livres were 
 deducted annually for the tax called the vingtieme. 39 
 Regarding this royal benefaction, Goldoni says: 
 
 My income was not very large; yet I must be just. What had 
 I done to merit it? I had left Italy for France. The Comedie 
 Italienne did not suit me, and I had only to return home. I 
 became attached, however, to the French people. Three years of 
 an easy, honourable, and agreeable service procured for me the 
 pleasure of remaining among them. Should I not consider my- 
 self fortunate? Should I not be contented? 
 
 After obtaining a pension for their genial tutor, 
 Mesdames de France employed in other studies the 
 hours they had devoted to Italian. They had told 
 him that he would have their three nephews as 
 scholars; yet the only one of these princes willing 
 to study Italian was tutored by a Frenchman, hence 
 
 39 Bachauraont, writing in his journal under the date Jan. 12, 1769, 
 says, "The King has just given a pension of four thousand livres to 
 the Sieur Goldoni, called to France by the Italian actors several years 
 ago to uphold their theatre, and since appointed to teach Mesdames the 
 language in which he has given very interesting plays." 
 
EXPATRIATION 493 
 
 Goldoni was left without employment. To be 
 nearer "the theatres that glitter only in Paris" he 
 removed his lodgings thither, although he kept a 
 pied a terre at Versailles, because "it was to his in- 
 terest to pay court to his august protectresses and 
 see if the Italian literature and language might not 
 gain partisans among the young princes and prin- 
 
 cesses." 
 
 After obtaining a comfortable pension with which 
 to temper the needs of his declining years, he be- 
 stirred himself on behalf of his nephew, "a kind and 
 docile young man," as he says, "fit for some good 
 employment." Madame Adelaide interceded with 
 the Due de Choiseul in the younger Goldoni's be- 
 half, and secured for him a tutorship in Italian at 
 the Royal Military School. But Antonio Francesco 
 no sooner received this appointment than his post 
 was promptly abolished; whereupon his uncle ob- 
 tained his nomination as interpreter in the Corsican 
 Bureau. When this position was likewise suppressed, 
 he received a similar appointment in the War Office, 
 where he was "lucky enough to please his superiors 
 and receive from them various tokens of their kind- 
 ness." "If my journey to France had been produc- 
 tive of nothing else than the establishing of this dear 
 child," the uncle exclaims, "I should always extol 
 myself for having undertaken it." Although child- 
 less, Goldoni loved his nephew as a son ; the young 
 man was of mediocre talent, he confesses, and he 
 thought at one time of sending him to Canada. 
 
494 GOLDONI 
 
 Moreover, despite his long residence in France, 
 Antonio Francesco was unable to write the French 
 language correctly, 40 and had but a rudimentary edu- 
 cation in his own; therefore his fond uncle had 
 reason to rejoice at having secured for him a govern- 
 mental sinecure. 
 
 "Though at court, I was not a courtier," is the re- 
 frain Goldoni repeats in his memoirs; yet he feath- 
 ered his family nest with preferment, and delighted 
 in the society of "dukes, duchesses, cordons bleus, 
 and marshals." 41 Even his pen was plied obse- 
 quiously. Though teeming with accounts of royal 
 weddings and court festivities, his memoirs contain 
 not a word regarding the appalling condition of the 
 French people, or the mighty tempest that was gath- 
 ering to engulf a rotten monarchy. Surely none but 
 an ardent courtier could pronounce so notorious a 
 debauchee as Louis XV "the most clement of kings, 
 the most tender of fathers, and the most gentle of 
 masters" I Yet Goldoni enjoyed royal beneficence at 
 a time when he sorely needed it. Moreover, the 
 reigning family of France, headed by ill-starred 
 Louis XVI, subscribed for a hundred and forty- 
 seven copies of his memoirs; hence it is but natural 
 to find their pages as obsequious to kingship as the 
 comedies of Moliere, another recipient of royal 
 bounty. 
 
 Like those of his great predecessor in his craft, 
 
 40 E. Maddalena: Letter e inedite del Goldoni, and A. G. Spinelli: 
 Fogli Sparsi del Goldoni. 
 
 41 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, April 2, 1765. 
 
EXPATRIATION 495 
 
 Goldoni's plays were sometimes acted before the 
 court, and long after his engagement with the 
 Comedie Italienne had come to a hapless end, he was 
 inspired by "the general spirit of gladness and en- 
 thusiasm" that reigned at the time of the Dauphin's 
 wedding to Marie Antoinette (1770) to write in the 
 language of his adopted country The Beneficent 
 Bear (Le Bourru bienfaisant), the only masterpiece 
 that graced the years he passed in France. H,is 
 courtiery, therefore, was not barren of good, even 
 though it belied his frank nature. Perhaps, as 
 Giulio Caprin declares, 42 he was the "most sincere 
 and modest of courtiers" ; yet a courtier he remained 
 so long as he had the strength to hobble in the King's 
 wake, his heart ever beating in the royal presence 
 with as much "pleasure and subjection" as that of 
 good Nicoletta when Madame Adelaide deigned to 
 speak with her. 
 
 Indeed it is idle for him to exclaim that pride 
 played no part in his life 43 when it peeps from the 
 pages of his memoirs many a time. It is idle, too, 
 for him to declare that he did not know how to beg, 
 since he possessed a marked faculty for getting august 
 people to solicit favours for him, and on more than 
 one occasion deliberately begged himself. In 1775, 
 for instance, when Louis the young Dauphin had 
 succeeded his profligate grandfather as King of 
 France, Goldoni, on being summoned to court to 
 teach Italian to Princess Clotilde, the new monarch's 
 
 42 Op. cit. 43 Letter to Gabriel Cornet, May 13, 1765. 
 
496 GOLDONI 
 
 sister, was quick to point out that his pension, 
 having been granted for services to Mesdames de 
 France, did not requite him for the instruction of 
 the entire family. He taught this royal pupil in a 
 manner as unhampered by confusing syntax as the 
 Berlitz method of to-day; yet in the bustle caused by 
 her wedding his demands were disregarded, and he 
 was obliged to bide a more favourable moment for 
 their pressing. 
 
 He felt the pinch of poverty so keenly, meanwhile, 
 that he borrowed twenty-five louis from Vittore 
 Gradenigo, secretary of the Venetian embassy, 44 and 
 double that sum from Marco Zeno, the ambassador 
 who had succeeded Giovanni Mocenigo. Some 
 three months later, because the King's sisters, "in- 
 stead of making his fortune, had wrought his ruin" 
 by holding out false hopes, he confessed his inability 
 to repay these loans. Indeed he was in such straits 
 at this time that he begged permission to return to 
 Italy, where his meagre pension would better sup- 
 port his state, while, to repay his debts, he offered to 
 sell Gradenigo his library, which included an edition 
 of two hundred and fifty volumes of French plays 
 given him by Voltaire. 45 
 
 Fortune soon smiled on him, however, when, 
 abetted by Princess Elisabeth, another of the King's 
 sisters to whom he gave Italian lessons, and by the 
 Queen and Mesdames tantes as well, he presented 
 
 44 Letter to Vittore Gradenigo, Feb. 19, 1780. 
 
 45 Letter to Vittore Gradenigo, May 5, 1780. 
 
EXPATRIATION 497 
 
 Louis XVI a bill for his services, and obtained a 
 royal gratuity of six thousand livres with which to 
 pay his debts. Declaring that the harsh winds of 
 Versailles distressed his nerves and revived his 
 vapours, he obtained from the clement monarch the 
 reversion of his tutorship in favour of his nephew, 
 to whom an annual grant of twelve hundred livres 
 was made, his own pension of four thousand livres, 
 less the accustomed vingtieme, being awarded him 
 for life. 
 
 In declaring that he did not know how to ask 
 favours, he certainly controverts the truth; yet in 
 justice to his candid character, these words of Giulio 
 Caprin 46 may be pertinently quoted: 
 
 His honest heart, ever ready for good impulse, even after so 
 many hard trials, beat only with a gratitude which became intense 
 emotion when the royal favour was shown in its most visible ways. 
 
 After stationing his nephew well in life and ob- 
 taining his own release from courtly duties and finan- 
 cial troubles, Goldoni retired from windy Versailles 
 to Paris, where "the less strenuous air was more like 
 his temperament." When he laid aside his three- 
 cornered hat and buckled shoes to enjoy by his own 
 fireside the comfort of Pantalone's skull-cap and 
 slippers, he was in his seventy-third year and his life- 
 work was ended. Prowling about the streets of 
 Paris, or enjoying the society of his numerous French 
 friends, he was to pass many a tranquil day before 
 
 4* Op. cit. 
 
49 8 GOLDONI 
 
 revolutionary terror came to reign in France, and 
 death to free his own kindly soul. 
 
 During the seventeen years he had lived in a for- 
 eign land he had penned a goodly number of com- 
 edies, operas bouffes, and scenari for the Comedie 
 Italienne, as well as for the theatres of Venice, Lis- 
 bon, and London. While the plays he wrote in 
 France are being examined and his talents compared 
 with those of Moliere, he shall be left in the enjoy- 
 ment of the first hours of true leisure he had known 
 since Thalia first apprenticed him to her exacting 
 art. He loved the gay city in which the lot of his 
 declining years was cast, yet he had not forgotten 
 the carnival din of his cherished birthplace, or the 
 merry song of her gondoliers. In the land of his 
 expatriation he could still exclaim : 
 
 From Venice I 'm two thousand miles away ; 
 Yet to my mind are summoned every day 
 Her speech, the merry habits of her folk, 
 And her sweet name, fond memories to evoke. 
 
XV 
 
 DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 
 
 WHEN he arrived in Paris, to fulfil his en- 
 gagement with Les Comediens du roi de la 
 troupe italienne, Goldoni found the actors 
 who had enticed him thither in sore need of comedies 
 that would renew the lustre of their dimming fame. 
 Since the reign of Henri III, when the Gelosi were 
 summoned to Paris by le rot des mignons, Italian 
 players had trodden the boards of the capital, first as 
 transient tenants of the Hotel du Petit Bourbon, the 
 playhouse where in 1658 Moliere made his successful 
 bow to the general public of his native city; and then 
 as permanent occupants of the Hotel de Bourgogne, 
 oldest of French theatres. In the heyday of their 
 success many famous players had been enrolled in 
 their ranks. Tiberio Fiorelli, the Scaramouche, who 
 was Moliere's reputed teacher in the art of mimicry; 
 Domenico Locatelli, Francesco and Luisa Gabrielli, 
 and Angelo Costantino, called Mezzettino, had each 
 in turn added brilliance to the Comedie Italienne. 
 
 After the union, in 1680, of the players of the 
 Hotel de Bourgogne and those of the Theatre 
 Guenegaud the remnants of Moliere's company 
 to form the Comedie Frangaise, the Italians played 
 
 499 
 
500 GOLDONI 
 
 at the Hotel de Bourgogne until their temerity in 
 placing upon their stage a satire upon Madame de 
 Maintenon caused the doors of their playhouse to 
 be sealed in 1697 by royal order. Soon after reopen- 
 ing the Hotel de Bourgogne in 1716, by consent of 
 the Regent, they obtained the title of comediens 
 italiens ordinaire* du Roi and an annual subsidy of 
 15,000 livres; yet they sought in vain to regain the 
 popularity they had once enjoyed. By substituting 
 written comedies, and even tragedies, for the farces 
 of the Improvised Comedy, Luigi Riccoboni, 
 known as Lelio, a man of letters as well as an actor 
 of ability, tried to elevate the character of the plays 
 performed at the Comedie Italienne, a task in which 
 he was ably seconded by the talents of Rosa Giovanna 
 Balletti-Benozzi, known on the stage as Sylvia. But 
 the public of Paris, unacquainted with the Italian 
 language, would not tolerate this innovation; hence 
 the Italian actors were forced to resort to scenari 
 Frenchified to suit the Parisian taste. 
 
 In vain did Arlecchino and Brighella extemporize 
 their lazzi, while Lelio and Sylvia drew love phrases 
 from the zibaldone. Satiated with Italian buffoon- 
 ery, the Parisian public gave its patronage to French 
 comedy and opera boufTe, or to the parades and 
 farces of the theatres forains. Finding themselves 
 in these sore straits, the Italians produced French 
 comedies by Regnard, Le Sage, Marivaux, and lesser 
 lights, and even imported American red men to 
 dance in war-paint and feathers upon their cosmo- 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 501 
 
 politan stage. When these attractions failed to 
 draw, they placed new Corinthian columns in the 
 Hotel de Bourgogne and repainted the boxes, and, 
 as a last resort, invited to Paris their Venetian com- 
 patriot, Goldoni, whose scenario, entitled Harlequin's 
 Son Lost and Found (II Figlio d'Arlecchino perduto 
 e ritrovato) had four years previously (1758) been 
 presented with considerable success upon their stage. 
 
 At the Hotel de Bourgogne Goldoni found a com- 
 pany skilled in improvisation, but inexperienced in 
 performing written comedy. It was a profit-sharing 
 company, moreover, and therefore ill disciplined, for 
 it had no manager, and the royal Intendant des menus 
 plalslrs gave it only perfunctory supervision. Col- 
 lalto, the pantaloon, an actor formerly in Medebac's 
 troupe, for whom he had written The Merchants 
 many years before, was, as Goldoni avers, "one of 
 the best actors in Italy"; yet neither he nor Carlo 
 Bertinazzi, the harlequin affectionately known as 
 Carlino, could deliver written lines effectively. The 
 voice of beautiful Camilla Veronese, the servetta, 
 was "the cry of nature" ; Zanuzzi, the primo amoroso, 
 was "well considered in Italy" ; yet they, as well as 
 their inferior comrades, such as Madame Savi, the 
 leading lady, who was "without talent," were 
 schooled only in the ancient art of extemporizing. 
 
 Although Zanuzzi and Madame Savi went to 
 Villejuif to meet him; although in Paris he was 
 wined and dined by the actors he had come to serve, 
 Goldoni, the astute craftsman, saw quickly that the 
 
502 GOLDONI 
 
 dramatic path he had come to tread was strewn with 
 thorns instead of flowers. The Opera Comique had 
 recently been closed and its repertory added to the 
 Comedie Italienne, and, rinding the theatre rilled on 
 the opera nights and empty when Italian comedies 
 were given, he attributed this disparity to the fact 
 that his compatriots "gave only time-worn pieces" 
 of the sort "he had reformed in Italy." Resolving 
 to present only "characters, progress, deportment, 
 style," he met with the opposition of the mask actors, 
 who "wishing to shine without taking the trouble to 
 study," demanded scenari in the familiar style of the 
 Improvised Comedy. 
 
 Loath to turn backward in his art, the new-comer 
 asked four months' time in which to study Parisian 
 conditions, and during this respite from labour he 
 frequented the playhouses of Paris, trying meanwhile 
 to learn the dramatic taste of the public. When the 
 time for his Parisian debut arrived, he found the 
 Italian players only partially in accord with his 
 ideals, the mask actors being still persistent in their 
 wish to extemporize their lines. At a meeting of 
 the company he was able to carry the day by show- 
 ing "the indecorum of introducing an author without 
 dialogue." Although pleased with this triumph, he 
 foresaw the difficulty of writing for actors unskilled 
 in committing their lines to memory; therefore he 
 resolved to lead them gradually toward the reforms 
 he had accomplished in Italy. With this end in 
 view he composed a comedy, calling, as he says, "for 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 503 
 
 slight precision in execution," entitled Paternal 
 Love (UAmore paterno), a play which failed so 
 lamentably that it was withdrawn after the fourth 
 performance. Favart, however, saw even in its 
 least important scenes "qualities that revealed the 
 Moliere of Italy," and stood ready "to uphold the 
 reputation of our Venetian lawyer," whom he re- 
 garded "as the advocate of Thalia and good taste." 
 Grimm, on the contrary, thought it "a monstrous 
 mixture of pathos and buffoonery," a verdict more 
 in accord with that of both the public of its day and 
 of posterity. 
 
 Paternal Love is a stereotyped, though nimble, 
 comedy, with virtuous characters virtue being then 
 the fashion, at least upon the stage and it contains 
 complimentary references to Goldoni's French pub- 
 lic. In the dramatic path of this middle-aged for- 
 eigner there were, however, two insurmountable 
 obstacles: to wit, the incompetence in written com- 
 edy of actors trained in the school of improvisation, 
 and the inability of the public, particularly of its 
 feminine portion, to understand Italian. The women 
 would not attend the Comedie Italienne, and, as Gol- 
 doni sententiously remarks, "when a theatre lacks 
 women, the men are scarce also." 1 Therefore the 
 actors began to demand scenari of their dramatist, 
 in which Arlecchino and Scappino might extem- 
 porize their lines in French as was their wont. 2 
 Goldoni's own words shall tell of his discomfiture: 
 
 1 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, April 18, 1763. 
 
 2 Letter to Agostino Paradisi, March 28, 1763. 
 
504 GOLDONI 
 
 I wished to depart immediately, yet how could I leave Paris 
 which had enthralled me? I had an engagement for two years; 
 I was tempted to remain. The majority of the Italian comedians 
 demanded only scenari, the public was accustomed to them; the 
 court suffered them ; why should I have refused to conform ? Come, 
 I said, let us construct scenari if they wish them. Any sacrifice 
 seemed sweet, any trouble endurable for the pleasure of remaining 
 two years in Paris. It cannot be said, however, that I permitted 
 amusements to interfere with the fulfilment of my duty; I gave 
 during the period of those two years twenty-four [sic] plays, the 
 titles and the success or failure of which may be found in U Al- 
 manack des spectacles. Eight of these plays remain upon the stage, 
 and they have cost me more trouble than if I had written them 
 out in entirety. I could only please by means of interesting situ- 
 ations, full of humours artfully prepared and safe from the actors' 
 whims. I succeeded better than I imagined; yet, whatever the 
 success of my plays, I seldom went to see them. I liked good 
 comedy and I went to the Theatre Frangais to be amused and to 
 be instructed. 
 
 For thirty years he had striven to reform the taste 
 of the Italian public by leading it away from vulgar 
 humour "artfully prepared" toward "progress, de- 
 portment, and style" ; vainly had he represented man- 
 kind by characters true to nature; Carlo Gozzi with 
 his fantastic fairy-tales had driven him into exile, 
 and now he was forced by the Parisian public to 
 write the very sort of play he had sought to banish 
 from the stage of his native land. Beginning again 
 in France at the age of fifty-five the reform he had 
 striven so resolutely to accomplish in his native land, 
 he fought without the ardour of youth, and therefore 
 submitted more readily to the exigencies of the stage. 
 Being written solely to obtain a livelihood, it is not 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 505 
 
 surprising that in the plays and scenari he wrought 
 for the Italian comedians during the two years of his 
 engagement with them his genius as a painter of 
 nature is seldom manifest. He was amazingly pro- 
 lific, however, during his first years in France, and 
 in addition to the plays and scenari he wrote for 
 the Comedie Italienne and the San Luca theatre, he 
 penned a goodly number of libretti for the lyrical 
 stages of Venice, Lisbon, Vienna, and London. Yet 
 his work for the Comedie Italienne was far from 
 satisfactory either from the point of view of receipts 
 or of critical favour. 
 
 Only in the trilogy dealing with Arlecchino's love 
 for Camilla did he win the absolute approval of the 
 French critics. Of Harlequin and Camilla s Love 
 (Gli Amori di Arlecchino e di Camilla) the first play 
 of this series, Grimm 3 says that "the construction 
 and plot are simple, yet full of resource and imagi- 
 nation." Bachaumont, after praising its "true beau- 
 ties," adds that its "very numerous incidents are all 
 connected, and arise naturally from one another," 
 while "pathos and comedy are so thoroughly welded 
 in this play as to leave no incongruity." 4 Harle- 
 quin's Jealousy (La Gelosia di Arlecchino) and 
 Camilla's Tribulations (Le Inquietudini di Camilla] 
 complete this trilogy, the last play of which Grimm 
 calls a "masterpiece of naturalism, truth, imagina- 
 tion, and subtlety" ; yet being mere scenari, they have 
 
 3 Correspondance litteraire. 
 
 4 Memoir es secrets, quoted by Rabany. 
 
5 o6 GOLDONI 
 
 not been handed down to us in their original form. 
 
 A year or so after their production, however, Gol- 
 doni, instigated, as has been already pointed out, by 
 a French woman of "wit, intelligence, and taste," 
 rewrote and reconstructed them for the Venetian 
 stage. Since in the company that was to play them, 
 there was "no harlequin equal to Carlino or Sacchi," 
 he "dignified the subject," he says, by replacing 
 Arlecchino and the servetta with middle-class charac- 
 ters, and called the three plays: Zellnda and Lin- 
 doro's Love (Gil Amori di Zelinda e Lindoro), 
 Lindoro's Jealousy (La Gelosia di Lindoro), and 
 Zelinda' s Tribulations (Le Inquietudini di Zelinda). 
 "They did not have," he adds, "a startling success in 
 Venice, but they were well enough received by an 
 enlightened public more content with the compo- 
 sition than the execution." 
 
 As the plays composing the love trilogy of Zelinda 
 and Lindoro are suggestive, both in action and psy- 
 chology, of French contemporary comedy, the praise 
 bestowed by Grimm and Bachaumont upon the three 
 scenari from which they are taken seems due to Gol- 
 doni's success in pleasing the Parisian taste of his 
 day, rather than to any marked display of his genius 
 as a naturalist. Being constructed in accordance 
 with the formula that a play to be successful should 
 unite, disunite, and reunite a pair of lovers, they are 
 three rather obvious solutions of this dramatic prob- 
 lem. 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 507 
 
 Though both are honourably born above their sta- 
 tions, Zelinda is a housemaid and Lindoro a private 
 secretary in a household where Zelinda is loved un- 
 availingly by the master, his son, and his butler. 
 Falling in love with each other, and becoming ob- 
 jects of the jealousy of both master and mistress, 
 Zelinda and Lindoro are discharged. Employed by 
 a "respectable" actress named Barbara, "decorum" 
 causes them to be dismissed again when their mutual 
 love is discovered; whereupon, after many lachry- 
 mose adventures, they are united in honest wedlock; 
 this being in brief the story of their love. In the 
 play concerning Lindoro's jealousy, a love-letter 
 written to Barbara, the actress, is entrusted to Zelinda. 
 Discovering it in her possession, Lindoro believes it 
 to have been written to her, and as she refuses to 
 betray her trust, his jealousy causes him to track her 
 to Barbara's house, only to learn that her visit there 
 is not for clandestine love, but to prevent her mas- 
 ter's son from contracting a misalliance with an 
 actress. In the play about her tribulations, Zelinda, 
 wishing to make the most of Lindoro's jealousy, 
 seeks to keep it alive in order that his love may not 
 smoulder; Lindoro striving meanwhile to- prevent 
 -his jealousy from tormenting her. Finding him 
 cured of his suspicions, and thinking that his love 
 for her is dead, Zelinda becomes jealous in turn. 
 Having suffered mutually, both are prepared, as 
 Charles Dejob points out, "to proceed through their 
 
508 GOLDONI 
 
 tears, not toward a rupture, but toward definite 
 peace, founded henceforth upon an unalterable confi- 
 dence in each other." 5 
 
 The lachrymose story of Zelinda and Lindoro's 
 love, jealousy, and tribulations emulates the French 
 comedy of Goldoni's day, yet does scant justice to 
 his genius. Though simple in construction and 
 spirited in action, though perhaps psychologically 
 correct in their delineation of the tender passion, the 
 plays of this trilogy lack both characterization and 
 atmosphere, the essential elements that make Goldoni 
 the "painter of nature" Voltaire declared him to be. 
 
 Alone among the dramatis persona, Barbara is 
 not a lay figure whereon to display the deftly woven 
 fabric of the story; yet even she is thematically 
 drawn to expound the decency of Italian actresses, 
 a tenet the reader hesitates to accept in view of the 
 author's frequently requited passion for soubrettes. 
 Yet it must be confessed that he pays due tribute to 
 the virtue of actresses when he says : "I have known 
 in this profession very excellent people of both sexes, 
 whose virtue would put to shame persons of the most 
 retired life." 6 Barbara, living virtuously in the 
 midst of temptation in order that she may "prove 
 worthy the hand of some honest man who will rescue 
 her from her base calling" and "bathing with her 
 tears the pittance she derives from an arduous and 
 perilous profession," although she is so prudish as 
 
 5 Op. cit. 
 
 6 Dedication to the Marquis Scipione Maffei of // Mollere. 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 509 
 
 to drive two worthy servants from her house for 
 fear their mutual love will discredit her, is instruc- 
 tive, nevertheless, because of the side-light she sheds 
 upon her author's dramatic morals. 
 
 Indeed, Goldoni's comedies are amazingly free 
 from libertinage. In The Good Wife two women 
 of questionable virtue make merry with a rich young 
 gentleman; in The Bankruptcy an opera singer ruins 
 both a nobleman and a merchant; in The Mistress 
 of the Inn two gay actresses appear, though they do 
 not wanton; in The Obedient Daughter Brighella 
 thrives upon the munificence of his daughter's ad- 
 mirers; in The Man of the World Truffaldino ex- 
 ploits his sister's charms; in The Jovial Men an 
 opera singer courts married men; and in The 
 Smyrna Manager second-rate songstresses with 
 cracked voices pluck aged philanderers ; yet all these 
 more or less shady ladies are but minor characters 
 who serve to point a moral rather than to adorn a 
 tale, it being their author's avowed intention to decry 
 vice, not to sanction it. Moreover, unless a scene be- 
 tween an actress and a stage director in The Comic 
 Theatre be deemed of questionable morality, 7 his 
 dialogue is untainted by the suggestiveness that so 
 impairs the ethical tone of the modern European 
 stage. 
 
 Although French and Italian morals throughout 
 the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were at a 
 far lower ebb than they are at present, the tone of 
 
 7 Act i, Scene 5. 
 
5 io GOLDONI 
 
 French and Italian comedy rose to a higher level 
 then than it has since attained in either land, a 
 triumph of artistic decency due in France to Moliere 
 and in Italy to Goldoni, the plays of both these mas- 
 ters being, in view of the morals of their respective 
 ages, singularly free from sensual situations, and 
 even from innuendo. True, Moliere occasionally 
 introduced coarse language in his plays; yet he 
 eschewed licentious situations, such as are to be found 
 in Menander, in Plautus, and even in Shakespeare. 
 Goldoni, too, is open to the charge of having pre- 
 sented in The House Party a triangle of domestic 
 infelicity similar in outline to the conventional 
 framework of the plays of modern Europe; yet he 
 has so tempered his situations that the apical angle 
 describing his story of marital incompatibility, 
 being neither viciously obtuse nor insinuatingly 
 acute, may justly be termed right. Pertinent to the 
 commendable freedom from indecency of both 
 Moliere and Goldoni is this view of a modern 
 Frenchman : 
 
 Many men of letters of our own day believe that art has 
 nothing to gain from being too expressly concerned with morality. 
 It is singular to state, however, that all creative ages thought 
 exactly the contrary; not only the frigid or inflexible men of the 
 great centuries, but the men of imagination as well, believing that 
 the beautiful and the good are inseparable. 8 
 
 To return from this ethical wandering to Goldoni's 
 dramatic work in France, it is interesting to note 
 that the worthy plays he wrote during his engage- 
 
 8 Charles Dejob: op. cit. 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 511 
 
 ment at the Comedie Italienne did not achieve im- 
 mediate success. First of these in point of chronol- 
 ogy is The Fan (II Ventaglio), a play that enjoys 
 the distinction of having been performed in English 
 more frequently in the United States at least than 
 any of Goldoni's comedies, 9 a success due more to 
 deft dramaturgy than to the naturalistic qualities in 
 which its author excels. Skilful in construction, 
 vivacious in dialogue, this adroitly woven play pre- 
 sents Goldoni's aptitude as a dramatic craftsman 
 rather than his genius as a painter of life. II Conte 
 di Rocca Marina, its most entertaining character, 
 only iterates the droll qualities that make the Mar- 
 chese di Forlipopoli and Don Marzio such enga- 
 ging studies of decayed gentility; moreover, no faith- 
 ful portraits, such as those of Lunardo and his boor- 
 ish cronies, adorn it, while one searches it in vain 
 for such true pictures of street life as are to be found 
 in The Chioggian Brawls, or for such "lacerations 
 of the human heart" as are portrayed in the love 
 scenes of this play. 
 
 The Fan is a comedy with many short, sparkling 
 
 9 In 1898 // Ventaglio, translated by Henry B. Fuller, was performed 
 in the Grand Opera House, Chicago, by the pupils of Miss Anna Mor- 
 gan; and in the following year the inferior translation edited by Helen 
 Zimmern was presented by a dramatic school in New York City. In 
 1909 Mr. Fuller's translation was again played in Chicago by students 
 of the University of Chicago; in 1910-1911 The Yale University Dra- 
 matic Association presented Professor Kenneth McKenzie's translation 
 of // Ventaglio in Bridgeport, Conn., Albany, N. Y., Buffalo, N. Y., 
 Erie, Penn., Pittsburgh, Penn., Washington, D. C, Brooklyn, N. Y., 
 New York, N. Y., New Haven, Conn., Northampton, Mass., and Hart- 
 ford, Conn. In 1912 a translation by Professor Stark Young was played 
 by The Curtain Club of the University of Texas. 
 
5i2 GOLDONI 
 
 scenes, enhanced by continuous action and movement, 
 in which, to quote its author, "action plays a more 
 important part than words." The scene is a vil- 
 lage street, the characters drawn from the innkeepers, 
 apothecaries, shoemakers, milliners, petite noblesse, 
 and peasantry of Goldoni's native land; yet they 
 are sketches, rather than portraits such as he painted 
 in The Boors and The Chlogglan Brawls. A fan 
 falls from a window, and from this incident, to quote 
 Ernesto Masi, "Goldoni twists and untwists with 
 much naturalness one of the most complicated of 
 comic intrigues." 10 This plot, wherein the innocent 
 falling of a woman's fan into the hands of the wrongf 
 girl sets a whole village agog with scandal and jeal- 
 ousy, is too complicated to detail here. As Signor 
 Masi points out, "Goldoni's inspiration came evi- 
 dently from the Improvised Comedy, here placed at 
 the service of the most studied and refined art of 
 comedy." 
 
 It is easy to agree with Professor Kenneth McKen- 
 zie, one of the able translators of The Fan, when 
 he says that the Venetian dramatist's "skill in tech- 
 nical construction is shown in this play by the con- 
 tinuous series of amazing situations." It is not, 
 however, a play by which to judge of its author's 
 genius, it being the last word of the Italian comedy 
 of intrigue, but not the truest word of Goldoni the 
 naturalist. 11 
 
 10 Scelta di commedie di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 11 The following criticism from the Hartford Courant of the per- 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 513 
 
 Yet to call this play the last word of the comedy of 
 intrigue is unjust, perhaps, to The Marriage by Com- 
 petition (II Matrimonio per concorso), a comedy 
 Goldoni sent to Vendramin only a few months after 
 the first Parisian performance of The Fan, which 
 shares with it the honour of displaying Goldoni's 
 dexterity in stagecraft at its best, a dexterity in which 
 he is rivalled only by such master-builders of plays as 
 Scribe and Sardou. Indeed it would be difficult to 
 find a more deftly woven plot than that of The Mar- 
 riage by Competition, yet, like The Fan, this play 
 lacks a central character of strength, the primal ele- 
 ment of great comedy. Moreover, it is artificial in 
 tone, no clear note of nature being sounded in this 
 sprightly comedy of equivocation. 
 
 Pandolfo, an Italian merchant of ignoble ante- 
 cedents, arrives with his daughter Lisetta at an inn 
 in Paris, kept by Filippo, an Italian locandiere, with 
 whom Lisetta falls in love. Pandolfo, however, 
 having once been a servant, will brook no base inn- 
 keeper for a son-in-law. With a view to making a 
 desirable match, he inserts the following advertise- 
 ment in a newspaper: 
 
 formance of this play by the Yale Dramatic Association, shows the 
 effectiveness of Goldoni's stagecraft in our own day: 
 
 "The fan, as presented Saturday evening, is a lively piece, and 
 serves well the purpose of the student actors who played it. There is 
 much action, there is abundance of crisp dialogue, there is good charac- 
 ter drawing. The play is one of the manners of the time, in great 
 measure, and as such it is interesting, but it is also possessed of a plot 
 of humorous value, and, despite the age of the work, the action seems 
 no more old-fashioned than in the comparatively modern London Assur- 
 ance (given by the Yale boys here a year ago) and the language is 
 not half so stilted and uninteresting. 
 
GOLDONI 
 
 Notice to the Public: 
 
 A foreigner of Italian birth has arrived in this city, a merchant 
 by calling, of moderate fortune and original ideas. He has a 
 daughter to marry, of youthful age, passable beauty, and admi- 
 rable grace, medium height, chestnut hair, fair complexion, black 
 eyes, smiling mouth, active mind, uncommon talent, and the best 
 heart in the world. The father will dower her in proportion as 
 the candidate is acceptable to him, or to his daughter. Both are 
 stopping at the Eagle Inn. There those who wish to marry her 
 may address themselves, whereupon they will be admitted to the 
 competition. 
 
 At the time this advertisement appears, Anselmo, 
 an honourable Italian merchant, arrives at Filippo's 
 inn with his daughter Doralice. Here Alberto, a 
 young Italian of means, attracted by the curious 
 method Pandolfo has chosen to dispose of his daugh- 
 ter, also comes, in order to catch a glimpse of the 
 lass whose hand has been offered in competition. 
 Meeting Doralice, he falls in love with her, while 
 believing her to be the Italian merchant's daughter 
 advertised in the paper. Filippo, the innkeeper, 
 and Lisetta, who is no party to her father's plan to 
 marry her to the highest bidder, abet this case of 
 mistaken identity to further their own love. With- 
 out detailing the intricacies of this skilful plot, it 
 may be said an artful story of mistaken identity is 
 evolved, so spirited that it only awaits the modern- 
 izing touches of a commercial play-builder and a 
 popular composer, to become a musical comedy of 
 the sort in which audiences of the present day delight. 
 
 The light that The Marriage by Competition 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 515 
 
 sheds upon the French customs of its day gives it an 
 added interest, Goldoni having written it to be per- 
 formed before his fellow-countrymen, instead of 
 upon the Parisian stage. In order that the Venetians 
 might learn how the Parisians differed from them- 
 selves, he gives curious details of Parisian life, such 
 as the habits of cabmen, the comparative value of 
 monies, the freedom enjoyed by French women, the 
 advantages of la petite poste, and other Parisian cus- 
 toms that had pleased him, while in the following 
 passage he explains why his own comedies did not 
 succeed so well in Paris as in his native land: 
 
 MADAME FONTENE. 
 
 I say, what do you find that is pleasing in the Italian comedy? 
 
 MONSIEUR LA ROSE. 
 
 I enjoy it because I understand it. You cannot appreciate it 
 because you don't understand it. That is why an Italian author 
 in Paris, writing in his own language, will never see his theatre 
 filled. The women make the success of plays. The women don't 
 understand; the women do not go; the men pay court to the fair 
 sex, hence there remain for the Italians only a few lovers of their 
 language, a few people attracted by chance, a few authors to 
 speak well of them, and a few critics to speak ill of them. 
 
 A similar psychology -of the theatrical public is 
 presented by Goldoni in his memoirs, when in speak- 
 ing of The Jovial Women he says: "I paid court to 
 the women of my country, but at the same time I 
 worked for my own interest, since in order to please 
 the public you must commence by flattering the 
 ladies"; an exposition of the part borne by women 
 
516 GOLDONI 
 
 in ensuring the success of a play that is no less true 
 of the present day. 
 
 Years of practical experience had taught him the 
 futility of opposing the popular taste. He had 
 striven manfully to reform the Italian stage; a fickle 
 public, charmed by Carlo Gozzi's fairy-tales, had 
 forced him to seek employment in a foreign land. 
 There he served his employers faithfully, studying 
 Parisian conditions, and supplying the stage of the 
 Comedie Italienne with the kind of plays the public 
 demanded. Forced by the taste of the day to return 
 / to the methods of the Improvised Comedy he had 
 fought so resolutely to banish from his native land, 
 he was constrained at the age of fifty-five to retrace 
 the steps he had so laboriously taken toward the goal 
 of his ambitions. Backward he picked his way, like 
 some valiant mountaineer, who, baffled by the ele- 
 ments, retires to the valley to await a more propitious 
 time for scaling the highest peak. Skilled in his 
 calling, knowing the caprices of the public, he re- 
 tired from the heights of naturalistic comedy to the 
 level of Improvised Comedy, and from its elements 
 he contrived such plays as The Fan and The Mar- 
 riage by Competition, the final word of that comedy, 
 as well as of play construction, no modern dramatist 
 having more skilfully woven theatric materials into 
 nimble plays than has Goldoni in these two deft 
 pieces. iStill versatile, adroit, and capable, this 
 artist who had painted mankind truly, became a play- 
 wright in the literal seri&e. An artificer by force of 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 517 
 
 circumstances, the artist in him lay dormant while 
 he plied his trade for the Comedie Italienne, even 
 The Fan and The Marriage by Competition being 
 merely intricate scaffolds artfully built by a master- 
 craftsman. To become pure comedy they need to 
 be walled solidly with the enduring truth to nature 
 that adorns the Venetian comedies of Goldoni 
 the artist. Meanwhile Goldoni, the playwright, 
 wrought plays at the behest of his employers, but 
 "seldom went to see them" because the artist in him 
 "liked good comedy." 
 
 Indeed so thoroughly had his artistic spirit been 
 broken by the scorn of his countrymen that he even 
 emulated Carlo Gozzi, by sending to Venice for per- 
 formance there, The Good Genius and The Bad 
 Genius (II Genio buono e II genio cattivo), an ex- 
 travaganza, as we should call it to-day, in which he 
 meets Gozzi on his own ground. An allegorical 
 harlequinade, a jumble of fantastic scenes, in which 
 the chief characters fly to Paris, London, and Tripoli, 
 then back to the Italian countryside whence they 
 came, this play, with its ballets and transformations, 
 is designed to please the eye, not the intellect. In 
 the temptation of Arlecchino and his wife Camilla 
 by the genius of evil, and their salvation by the genius 
 of goodness, it tells a moral story, it is true; yet it 
 is a story as old as that of Adam's fall, and very 
 tritely told in a way quite unworthy its author, whose 
 artistic sense arose in protest; since he says that "to 
 flatter the bad taste of a country where I had striven 
 
S i8 GOLDONI 
 
 to establish good taste, pricked my conscience." 
 When his engagement with the Comedie Italienne 
 ended, and he became Italian tutor to Madame Ade- 
 laide, Goldoni forgot his theatrical trials amid court 
 gaieties and court intrigues, but did not cease to love 
 his art. For the Comedie Italienne he had for- 
 sworn his ideals, building at the request of its actors 
 theatric plays, constructed along popular lines 
 scenari and comedies of intrigue, in which the plot 
 was dominant, but not a single comedy of character. 
 Seven years after his engagement with the Italian 
 players had ended, he wrote, not in his own tongue, 
 but in that of his adopted country, The Beneficent 
 Bear (Le Bourru bienfaisant), a true comedy of 
 character, ranking in his dramatic work next to those 
 plays in the Venetian dialect that "do him the great- 
 est honour." 
 
 To triumph on the boards of the Comedie Fran- 
 gaise had been his dream. "The best of my plays 
 is not worth the worst of Moliere's," he exclaimed, 
 when he first saw The Misanthrope performed; yet 
 when on November 4th, 1771, he made his debut at 
 the House of Moliere, it was with a comedy not un- 
 worthy the master. If The Beneficent Bear does 
 not rise to the sublimity of The Misanthrope, it is 
 certainly better than the worst of Moliere's plays; 
 moreover, it was written in French by a foreigner 
 who came to France in middle life, with so poor a 
 knowledge of the language that he went without his 
 dinner one day while waiting for Madame Adelaide, 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 519 
 
 because she had said when leaving him, "a tantbt" 
 spoken in the sense of at another time which he 
 interpreted by the Italian expression tantosto, mean- 
 ing immediately. When The Beneficent Bear was 
 staged, several years had elapsed since its author had 
 stood hungry in a royal antechamber; meanwhile 
 he had mastered the French tongue to an astounding 
 degree of perfection when his age is considered, he 
 being sixty-four at the time when he had his hearing 
 at the Comedie Franchise. "I wished to prove to 
 those who did not know Italian," he says in one of 
 the ingenuous outbursts of his memoirs, "that I occu- 
 pied a place among dramatic authors; and I decided 
 that I must either succeed or not undertake it." 
 Yet to invade the realm of Moliere was decidedly 
 an act of temerity on the part of this native of Italy. 
 
 Though not the equal of Moliere's masterpieces, 
 nor of Goldoni's best Venetian comedies, The Benefi- 
 cent Bear is certainly worthy an eminent place upon 
 the French stage of its day. In characterization, the 
 prime element of dramatic greatness, it surpasses the 
 feminine comedies of Marivaux, while beside Beau- 
 marchais's inimitable Figaro, its titular character, 
 Geronte, may stand without being dwarfed entirely. 
 Although his bearish utterances present no such ar- 
 raignment of a rotten aristocracy as nimble-witted 
 Figaro's racy speeches, Geronte is, nevertheless, a 
 thoroughly natural human being, brusque, overbear- 
 ing, irascible, yet benevolent as the name of the play 
 implies ; in a word, a cantankerous old bachelor with 
 
520 GOLDONI 
 
 a kindly heart, sketched to the life a character new, 
 as his author declares, to the stage, though not to 
 real life, and still lusty, while Marivaudage lan- 
 guishes. Being a less dramatic though not a less 
 human type than Harpagon, Goldoni's kindly bear 
 stands on a step below Moliere's miser. 
 
 Geronte is imperious because he is rich and used 
 to being obeyed; yet he loves his niece Angelique 
 and his nephew Dalancour, even though he conceives 
 the control of their destinies to be his divine right. 
 The nephew is an uxorious young weakling, who, 
 through love for his extravagant, frivolous, yet de- 
 voted wife, wastes his patrimony to provide her with 
 stylish clothes and equipages. He even tampers with 
 his sister's dowry, and to recoup his pilfering, re- 
 sorts to unfortunate speculation. When the curtain 
 rises, he is a ruined man, whose sole hope lies in his 
 uncle. Living unostentatiously himself, attended by 
 a housekeeper and a single man-servant, Geronte 
 takes this old-fashioned view of his nephew's ex- 
 travagance : 
 
 I have nothing to do with his embarrassments nor his wife's 
 follies. His property is his own; if he squanders it, if he ruins 
 himself, so much the worse for him. But in the case of my niece, 
 I am the head of the family, I am the master; it is my duty to 
 provide for her. 
 
 In order to conceal his misappropriation of her 
 dowry, Dalancour resolves to confine his sister in a 
 convent; yet she, like most young ladies in old com- 
 edy, has a secret love-affair with a young spark named 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 521 
 
 Valere. Being told of the threat to immure her, 
 Geronte displays both his temper and his love for 
 her, in a delightful scene in which he so cows An- 
 gelique with his gruffness, while vowing he will 
 balk his nephew's designs by finding her a husband, 
 that she dare not confess her love for Valere. No 
 more dare her brother Dalancour confess his debts 
 to his wife; but to Dorval, his uncle's phlegmatic 
 friend, he confides the uncongenial task of obtaining 
 for him the beneficent bear's mercy, which disinter- 
 ested act Dorval undertakes to accomplish. 
 
 Geronte's imperious brusqueness and the fear in 
 which Dorval holds him are made apparent when, 
 over a game of chess, Dorval attempts to intercede 
 for the Bear's scapegrace nephew and his lovelorn 
 niece, only to be browbeaten into accepting the lat- 
 ter's hand himself, in spite of the disparity in their 
 years and the fact that she already loves another. 
 Dorval does not, of course, marry Angelique, nor is 
 her brother imprisoned for debt, the goddess to step 
 from the machine being Madame Dalancour, the 
 latter's extravagant wife. 
 
 When the lovers' matters are at sixes and sevens, 
 and the bear at odds with every one, yet indulgent 
 to all even to the nephew he has bullied so unmer- 
 cifully Madame Dalancour throws herself upon 
 his generosity, pleading her inexperience and youth 
 as her only excuse for her blindness to the true state 
 of her husband's finances. If only he will forgive 
 his nephew, she promises Geronte to withdraw for 
 
5 22 GOLDONI 
 
 ever from his sight. Finding him obdurate, she 
 faints, a feminine subterfuge that conquers the ten- 
 der-hearted bear; so when he has aroused her with 
 splashes of eau-de-Cologne in her pretty face, he 
 forgives her. 
 
 Interceded with on behalf of his niece and her 
 lover, he exclaims: "Plague take my disposition! 
 I can't keep angry as long as I want to. I could box 
 my own ears!" Nephew, niece, friend, and house- 
 keeper implore anew for the lovers. "Be silent!" 
 he cries. "Let me alone! May the devil take you 
 all! Let him marry her!" 
 
 "Without a dowry?" asks his housekeeper. 
 
 "Without a dowry!" he storms. "I marry my 
 niece without a dowry! Am I not able to give her 
 a dowry?" Whereupon he makes good the dowry 
 Angelique's brother has squandered, adding a hun- 
 dred thousand livres on his own behalf. 
 
 A beneficent bear indeed a kindly old man who 
 has lived alone for so many years that the desire to 
 be obeyed has become a habit rather than a trait. 
 He blusters and loves in the same breath, raises his 
 stick and opens his purse at the same moment yet 
 he has a ring in his nose, and may be led by any one 
 not afraid of him. His servant Picard has the trick 
 of wheedling him. Witness the scene when Picard 
 enters after Geronte has called. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Here, sir. 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 523 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 You rascal! Why don't you answer? 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Pardon me, sir, here I am. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Disgraceful! I called ten times. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 I am sorry, but 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Ten times ! It 's scandalous. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Aside and angry) He's in a fury now. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Have you seen Dorval? 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Where is he? 
 
 PICARD 
 
 He 's gone, sir. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 How did he go? 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Roughly) He went as other people go. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Insolent rogue ! Do you dare answer your master in this way ? 
 (He raises his cane.) 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Very angrily) Give me my discharge, sir. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Your discharge worthless fellow! (He strikes him.. .Picard 
 falls between the chair and the table. Geronte runs to his assist- 
 ance and helps him up.) 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Oh! (He leans on the chair and shows he is hurt.) 
 
524 
 
 GOLDONI 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Are you hurt ? Are you hurt ? 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Very much hurt; you have crippled me 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Oh, I am so sorry! Can you walk? 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Still angry) I believe so, sir. (He tries, and walks badly.) 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 (Sharply) Go on. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Mortified) Do you drive me away, sir? 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 (Warmly) No. Go to your wife's house and be taken care 
 of. (Pulls out his purse and offers him money.) Take this to get 
 cured. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Aside, with tenderness) What a master! 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Take it. (Giving him money.) 
 
 PICARD 
 
 No, sir, I hope it will be nothing. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Take it, I tell you. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Still refusing it) Sir 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 (Very warmly) What! you refuse my money? Do you refuse 
 it from spite, or pride, or hatred? Do you believe I did it on 
 purpose? Take this money. Take it. Come, don't make me 
 furious. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Don't get angry, sir. I thank you for all your kindness. 
 (Takes the money.) 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 525 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Go quickly. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Yes, sir. (Walks badly.) 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Go slowly. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Wait, wait; take my cane. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 Sir 
 
 GERONTE 
 
 Take it, I tell you ! I wish you to. 
 
 PICARD 
 
 (Takes the cane.) What kindness. 12 
 
 The plot of The Beneficent Bear is obvious, the 
 dialogue without brilliant flashes of wit, but the 
 characterization is true, the comedy in the best spirit 
 of the art a picture of life lightly but sincerely 
 painted, a story of a good but gruff man's triumph 
 over himself, told in a way that bears no kinship 
 with the sorrow of tragedy or the hilarity of farce. 
 To maintain that it was acclaimed a masterpiece 
 when produced at the Comedie Frangaise, would be 
 idle. The French critics were too accustomed to the 
 delicate and subtle phrasing of Marivaux and the 
 supple vivacity of Regnard, to see in Goldoni's 
 
 12 Act II, Scene 21. The reader who recalls the consummate art with 
 which Signor Novelli plays the role of Geronte, the tender human man- 
 ner in which the above scene between master and man is rendered by 
 him, already knows the truth and naturalism of this character. 
 
526 GOLDONI 
 
 naturalism aught but an Italian canevas with written 
 words. 
 
 "The style is extremely natural," said Bachau- 
 mont, "and that is one of the author's qualities ; but 
 the too elevated fashion which our modern writers 
 of comedy have attained makes it appear trivial and 
 dull to many amateurs." Madame d'Epinay, hold- 
 ing the pen of her friend Grimm, found it "strongly 
 conceived but feebly executed," and saw in it the 
 work of a man "more accustomed to the making of 
 canevas than the detailing of plays." Colle consid- 
 ered it "bad and tiresome," and actually refused to 
 the protagonist "the merit of novelty." 13 Though 
 many of the critics were captious, the public was 
 unstinting in its applause. Ever candid in relating 
 the public's approval or non-approval of his work, 
 Goldoni thus tells in no uncertain tone of his triumph 
 on that night when he, a foreigner, made his debut 
 in the House of Moliere. 
 
 During the first performance of my comedy, I had hidden my- 
 self, as I had always done in Italy, behind the back-drop. I saw 
 nothing, but I heard my actors and the applause of the public. 
 During the entire performance I walked back and forth, hasten- 
 ing my steps during the lively situations, or lagging in the mo- 
 ments of interest and passion, content with my actors and echoing 
 the applause of the public. When the piece was finished, I heard 
 the clapping of hands, and cries which did not stop. M. Dauber- 
 val came. It was he who was to take me to Fontainebleau. I 
 thought he was looking for me because it was time to start. Not 
 at all. "Come, monsieur," he said, "you must show yourself." 
 
 13 Bachaumont: Memoires secrets; Grimm: Correspondance; Colle: 
 Journal historigue. 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 527 
 
 "Show myself to whom?" "To the public which demands you." 
 "No, my friend. Let us leave quickly. I could not stand it." 
 Then M. Lekain and M. Brizard took me by the arm and led 
 me to the stage. 
 
 I had seen authors courageously endure a similar ceremony, 
 but I was not accustomed to it, authors not appearing on the 
 stage in Italy to be complimented. I did not conceive how a man 
 could tacitly say to the audience, "Gentlemen, here I am; now 
 applaud me!" After having endured for a few seconds the most 
 singular and most annoying of positions, I retired, going through the 
 foyer to gain the carriage that awaited me. I met many people 
 who were looking for me, but I recognized no one. Descending 
 with my guide, I entered the carriage, where my wife and nephew 
 had already seated themselves. The success of my play made them 
 weep with joy, and the story of my apparition on the stage made 
 them shout with laughter. 
 
 I was tired, I wanted to rest, I had need of sleep, my heart 
 was contented, my mind at rest. In my bed I should have passed 
 a happy night, but, in a carriage, I could only shut my eyes and 
 be awakened each moment by the jolting. Finally, dozing, talk- 
 ing, yawning, I reached Fontainebleau. I slept, I dined, I took 
 a walk; and then I saw my piece played at the chateau, again 
 from behind the back-drop. 
 
 Although presented to Louis XV, after this com- 
 mand performance at Fontainebleau, and compli- 
 mented by his majesty and all the royal family, Gol- 
 doni's French path was not entirely without thorns. 
 Upon his return to Paris, he was initiated into the 
 pains of a cabal, for, when his play was again per- 
 formed at the Comedie Frangaise, the pit was filled 
 with enemies to "boo" it. "Why did this not happen 
 at the first performance?" Goldoni asked Feuilli, the 
 actor playing Picard, the valet. "The jealous ones 
 did not fear you then," Feuilli answered. "They 
 
528 GOLDONI 
 
 pooh-poohed the notion of a foreigner writing a play 
 in French ; so the cabal was not ready. But you have 
 nothing to dread," he added ; "the nail has been hit 
 on the head ; your success is assured." 14 
 
 In no country does patriotism play so important 
 a role as in France; therefore this placing of French 
 laurels on a foreign brow was unprecedented. Gol- 
 doni's success was phenomenal from every point of 
 view: his age; his temerity. And his art is so much 
 freer and more unpolished than the French art of 
 that day that the marvel is a cabal was not formed 
 spontaneously on the first night to hiss this foreigner's 
 work off the stage. It is but another evidence that 
 critics and their rules do not govern dramatic suc- 
 cess, and that audiences, the world over, seldom fail 
 in appreciating a true picture of human nature, no 
 matter by whom it is painted. 
 
 "Nobody spoke ill of The Beneficent Bear" says 
 Goldoni (a stretching of the truth in view of Colic's 
 words) ; "yet some people thought it was one of my 
 Italian plays, others that I wrote it here in Italian, 
 then translated it into French. Not only did I com- 
 
 14 Le Bourru bienfaisant was played at Chantilly with the Prince de 
 Conde in the title role; at the Comedie Franchise it had a fair, but 
 not a long run, for the period. After the failure of L'Avare fastueux, 
 and between July 27, 1778, and June 26, 1780, it was given eight times, 
 and perhaps oftener (see Annexe V, Rabany, op. cit.). In 1784 a 
 revival was announced (see Annexe VI, ibid.), but probably not made, 
 owing to the popularity of Le Mariage de Figaro by Beaumarchais. 
 In 1792 Goldoni sold his author's rights during his lifetime to the 
 Comedie Franchise, in whose repertory the comedy had its place until 
 1849. In 1878 that institution gave a special performance of it as a speci- 
 men of Italian dramaturgy. 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 529 
 
 pose it in French," he continues, "but I thought in 
 the French way when I imagined it. In its senti- 
 ments, its imagery, its morals, and its style, it bears 
 the imprint of its origin." A true statement; since 
 except for the simplicity of the unpolished dia- 
 logue, and the humanly natural gruffness of Geronte 
 the bear, it might have been the work of a contem- 
 porary Frenchman, so thoroughly French is it in 
 other respects. 15 
 
 When next Goldoni braved a French audience 
 with a play in its language, he did not again experi- 
 ence the thrill of being led upon the stage "amid 
 hand clappings and cries that did not stop." On the 
 contrary, the performance finished, as he says, "with- 
 out any sign of approbation or disapproval." The 
 play that created this atmosphere of coldness was en- 
 titled The Ostentatious Miser (L'Avare fastueux], a 
 five-act comedy played at Fontainebleau for one per- 
 formance only by the actors of the Comedie Fran- 
 gaise, on November i4th, 1776, when its venturesome 
 author was sixty-nine years of age. Five years had 
 elapsed since the successful production of The Bene- 
 ficent Bear; during that period Goldoni had lived 
 upon his royal pension. "I said that I wished to re- 
 pose upon my laurels," he declares in his ever candid 
 memoirs, "but it was the fear of not succeeding a 
 
 15 In La Casa nova, the play in which the Bear had already been 
 sketched, and from which a portion of the plot was taken, Goldoni is 
 thoroughly Venetian. Karl Mantzius (op. cit., Vol. II) calls attention 
 to the rumor that Carlo Bertinazzi, a popular actor in Paris, about 
 whom Goldoni speaks highly in his memoirs, was the model of Le 
 Bourru bienfaisant. 
 
530 GOLDONI 
 
 second time so well as the first which prevented me 
 from acceding to the desires of my friends and of 
 satisfying myself. At last I surrendered to the solici- 
 tations of others, as well as to my own self-conceit." 
 If Harpagon had not come into the world a cen- 
 tury before him, Count de Chateaudor, the pompous 
 miser, who puts a ball of paper into his pocket every 
 time a bottle is opened at his table and starves his 
 guests' horses as well as his own, might have passed 
 for quite an original skinflint. If simple Monsieur 
 Jourdain, befuddled with his love for rank, had not 
 already knocked at the portals of society, this same 
 Chateaudor of purchased title, who vainly tries to 
 enter exclusive society, might have been accepted as 
 the typical arriviste. But he is original neither as 
 miser nor as parvenu ; therefore the play to which he 
 gives name becomes interesting only through its stage- 
 craft and the clearness with which a minor character 
 or two is drawn, notably the Marquis de Courbois, a 
 nobleman, blue in blood but scant of purse. Yet even 
 he is but a French kinsman of the Marchese di Forli- 
 popoli, Don Marzio, and II Conte di Rocca Marina. 
 Although Goldoni says not a word in his memoirs 
 regarding that sparkling comedy The Fan, he de- 
 votes three entire chapters to The Ostentatious Miser, 
 more space, by far, than is given to any single play. 
 In spite of this effort to convince his readers that the 
 verdict delivered on a night of "icy chilliness" at 
 Fontainebleau was unjust, his last comedy failed be- 
 cause it deserved to fail. The novelty of a foreigner 
 
DRAMATIC WORK IN FRANCE 531 
 
 writing a play in French had passed. Moreover, old 
 age had dimmed this foreigner's dramatic vision. 
 
 "Goldoni has emptied his bag!" his Venetian audi- 
 ence exclaimed after the dismal failure of The 
 Whimsical Old Man in 1754. He filled it success- 
 fully, however, many times thereafter with such 
 strikingly naturalistic plays as the Villeggiatura 
 series, The Boors, and The Chioggian Brawls] but 
 when he took from it The Ostentatious Miser, it was 
 indeed empty. During his long lifetime, this mar- 
 vellous magician had drawn from his magic bag fully 
 two hundred and sixty tragedies, tragi-comedies, ro- 
 mantic and poetic dramas, pure comedies, scenari, 
 melodramas, and merry plays for music. Except as 
 the librettist of a few trivial musical pieces he did 
 not tempt dramatic fortune again. The pity is that 
 he tempted it once too often. To have closed his long 
 career with The Beneficent Bear would have been 
 the fitting curtain to his artistic life. 
 
XVI 
 
 GOLDONI AND MOLII&B 
 
 ON the 2ist day of January, 1793, Louis XVI 
 mounted the steps of the guillotine in the 
 Place de la Revolution, his last words to 
 those whom he termed "his unfortunate people" be- 
 ing cut short by drumbeats and cries of hate. It is 
 extraordinary that at a time so appalling the repre- 
 sentatives of the people should have honoured a 
 foreigner who had held a post in the royal house- 
 hold; yet on February yth, 1793, barely a fortnight 
 after "Citizen Capet" had been put to death, Marie- 
 Joseph de Chenier, a poet and deputy, whose more 
 brilliant brother was soon to meet a similar fate, 1 
 arose in the national convention and pronounced these 
 words, remarkable for a moment when France, hav- 
 ing murdered her King, stood at bay before angry- 
 Europe: 
 
 Kings encourage letters through pride. From a spirit of grati- 
 tude, justice, and healthy policy, free nations should uphold them. 
 I shall not expand this truth uselessly for Frenchmen and, above 
 all, for legislators; but acting in accordance with a petition sent 
 to your committee on public instruction, I am here to arouse the 
 national honour in the cause of an old foreigner, an illustrious 
 author, who, for thirty years, has called France his home, and 
 whos.e talents and probity have earned the esteem of Europe. 
 
 1 Andre-Marie de Chenier, guillotined July 25th, 1794. 
 533 
 

 GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 533 
 
 Goldoni, this wise author and moralist, whom Voltaire has 
 styled the Moliere of Italy, was called to France in 1762 by the 
 former government. Since 1768 he has enjoyed an annual pen- 
 sion of 4000 livres; this pension, comprising his whole fortune, 
 being paid him during that time from the funds of the civil list. 
 Since last July he has received nothing, and now one of your de- 
 crees reduces to penury this octogenarian, whose worthy writings 
 have made him deserve so well at the hands of both France and 
 Italy. At the age of eighty-six, with no other resource than the 
 good heart of a nephew who shares with him the proceeds of his 
 unremitting toil, he sinks to his grave, oppressed by infirmities 
 and miseries, yet blessing Heaven that he dies a Frenchman and 
 a Republican." 
 
 Goldoni's republicanism is a matter of consider- 
 able doubt, yet Chenier's glowing words inspired the 
 national convention to the passage of a bill decreeing 
 that the annual stipend of 4000 livres, accorded him 
 in 1768, should henceforth be paid him from the 
 national treasury. 2 By one of those ironies that often 
 make historical truth stranger than fiction, Goldoni, 
 the "octogenarian," whose "talents and uprightness 
 had earned the esteem of Europe," as well as of that 
 volatile assembly, lay in his coffin at his lodgings in 
 the rue pavee Saint- Sauveur at the time this action 
 was taken, Chenier being unaware when he made his 
 motion that the man he lauded had died in want on 
 the previous day. 
 
 Goldoni's death is not, however, a matter for pres- 
 ent comment, but rather the phrase in Chenier's 
 remarkable address in which he, a devoted disciple of 
 the sage of Ferney, speaks of Goldoni as "this wise 
 
 2 The National Convention had already made Schiller a French citizen. 
 
534 GOLDONI 
 
 author and moralist whom Voltaire has styled the 
 Moliere of Italy." For more than a century the 
 imputation of these words has clung to Goldoni, a 
 stone to drown him. Of all literary handicaps, none 
 is more burdensome than to be likened to a dead 
 master whom the world reveres. In the Venetian's 
 case, the likening is justified by the nature of his work 
 rather than by the manner of its accomplishment. 
 He wrote comedies five times as many, indeed, as 
 did Moliere but he wrote them in a style quite his 
 own. To call him "the Moliere of Italy" is unjust to 
 his originality. 
 
 Although Chenier imputes this phrase to Voltaire, 
 no documentary evidence has yet been unearthed to 
 prove that the Apostle of Reason ever so styled Gol- 
 doni. Indeed, Voltaire, too shrewd a critic to be led 
 so far afield, appreciated more keenly than any of his 
 contemporaries the very qualities that distinguish the 
 genius of Goldoni from that of Moliere. 
 
 The personal relations between the "witty, prof- 
 ligate, and thin" philosopher and the Italian master 
 of comedy date from the year 1760, when their com- 
 mon friends, Albergati and Paradisi, warmly recom- 
 mended Goldoni to Voltaire. This remarkable 
 Frenchman already admired his Italian colleague's 
 works so highly that, in writing to Albergati about 
 him, he was constrained to say that, when he read 
 his comedies, he loved his personality, Goldoni being 
 truly "a good man, a good character, wholly natural, 
 wholly truthful" ; while in another letter to the same 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLI^RE 535 
 
 correspondent, after nominating Dame Nature as 
 arbiter in the dispute between Goldoni and his ad- 
 versaries, Voltaire, as will be recalled, put this epi- 
 gram into her mouth: 
 
 Though every author has his flaws, 
 This man Goldoni pictured me. 
 
 At a later date, the Frenchman avows that "Nature 
 was right in saying that Goldoni had painted her," 
 Voltaire being on this occasion "her secretary"; and 
 at the same time he declares that "the painter would 
 greatly honour the little secretary if he would deign 
 to put his name somewhere." "He can number me 
 among his most ardent partisans," the philosopher 
 adds, "and I should feel much honoured by a small 
 place in his catalogue." Moreover, in writing to 
 Goldoni before he had met him, he announces him- 
 self as his "most outspoken partisan and sincere ad- 
 mirer, and already the best friend that he has in 
 Framce," and asserts also that Goldoni has purified 
 the Italian stage and "snatched his country from the 
 hands of the harlequins," his comedies being "Italy 
 delivered from the Goths." "Painter and son of 
 nature," Voltaire calls him too; while on a previous 
 occasion he speaks of him as the "child of nature," 
 and at a later date addresses him as "lovable painter 
 of nature." Moreover, he had already declared to 
 Albergati that he had called Goldoni and should ever 
 call him the "painter of nature," while he addresses 
 the dramatist himself as "my dear beloved of nature," 
 
53 6 GOLDONI 
 
 thereby showing his insight into the Italian's genius; 
 a fact further attested by his statement to Goldoni 
 himself that he is always charmed by the "ease and 
 naturalness of his style." 
 
 Voltaire was alive to Goldoni's faults as well, for 
 when the Venetian proposed to write another opera 
 bouffe, he said that "that sort of thing does not seem 
 within his province." But he appreciated his moral 
 qualities no less than his naturalism, a fact evidenced 
 by his statement that Goldoni's comedies "all end in 
 a moral that recalls both the subject and the plot of 
 the play, and proves that this subject and this plot 
 are designed to make men wiser and better." Fur- 
 thermore, Voltaire declared that The Beneficent 
 Bear was written by an Italian who was able to give 
 models of good taste to any country, and that this 
 "comedy in the right style written by a foreigner 
 marked an epoch in French literature." 3 
 
 Although when he visited him at Ferney in 1760, 
 Casanova 4 told Voltaire that he considered Goldoni 
 the Moliere of Italy, it seems unlikely that the great 
 Frenchman himself ever so distinguished our dram- 
 atist, Chenier's words being doubtless spoken, as 
 Giuseppe Guerzoni suggests, "merely to touch the 
 hearts of his colleagues in the national convention, 
 which were never, as we know, of delicate fibre." 
 As this author goes on to say: "What is excusable 
 
 3 Voltaire's Correspondance: June 19, July 21, September 5 and 24, 
 December 23, 1760; May 10, November 9, 1763; May 3, June 30, 1764; 
 March 16, April 4, 1772. 
 
 4 Memoir es de J. Casanova de Seingalt escrits par lui-meme. 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 537 
 
 in Chenier on such an occasion is no longer so to the 
 man who is asked to pronounce, not a political 
 opinion, but a literary judgment, these words, 'Gol- 
 doni is the Moliere of Italy,' being so contrary to all 
 fact, biographical, historical, literary, and dramatic, 
 that they do not even possess the comparative value of 
 metaphor." 5 
 
 Voltaire was too acute in his judgment of Goldoni 
 to have termed him "the Moliere of Italy" except in 
 a tone of banter. There being no documentary evi- 
 dence to confirm Chenier's statement that he did so 
 call him, the mistake of foisting this unwieldy epithet 
 upon the "painter of nature" should with greater 
 verisimilitude be attributed to Goldoni's own coun- 
 trymen, who, in ridicule at least, had so likened him 
 long before his correspondence with Voltaire began. 
 Indeed, as early as 1751, Goldoni, irritated by the 
 captious critics of Turin, who, at each of his produc- 
 tions, said, "This is good, but it is not Moliere," pro- 
 tests that it had never entered his head "to compare 
 himself with the French author." Continuing, he 
 says: 
 
 5 II Teatro Itallano nel secolo XVlll. In elucidation of this point 
 Professor E. Maddalena of Vienna, writes the author of the present 
 work as follows: "It does not seem to me either, that Voltaire can 
 have called our Goldoni the Moliere of Italy. M.-J. Chenier attributed 
 this definition to Voltaire, thinking that he was thus faithfully summing 
 up the manifest opinion of the philosopher concerning the Venetian play- 
 wright. On this point may be found several questions and answers in 
 the Giornale degli eruditi e del curiosi (1884), published at Padua, but 
 no conclusion is reached." In continuation of Professor Maddalena's 
 argument it may be added that a correspondent of Cesarotti (Michel 
 Van Goens), writing Feb. 8, 1768, compares Goldoni to Moliere, and 
 Cesarotti himself thus eulogizes Goldoni. 
 
53 8 GOLDONI 
 
 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 small talk. I was acquainted 
 with Moliere and respected this master of the art as highly as the 
 Piedmontese, and I was seized instantly with a desire to give them 
 a convincing proof of it. I immediately composed a comedy in 
 five acts and in verse, without masks or change of scene, of which 
 the title and principle subject were Moliere himself. 
 
 It would seem from the above passage that, nearly 
 ten years before Goldoni entered into correspondence 
 with Voltaire, his fellow-countrymen had begun to 
 compare him with Moliere, and that he deprecated 
 the comparison. As his fame grew and they became 
 proud of his achievements, he, to quote M. Vaperau, 
 "received from his compatriots the qualifications of 
 'great' and also of the 'Italian Moliere.' " 6 Of this 
 Goldoni gives ample testimony himself when relating 
 how a hostess, "whose exaggeration should be par- 
 doned" because she was "well-bred and polite," intro- 
 duced him to a young Parisian blockhead as "M. 
 Goldoni, the Moliere of Italy." That he revered the 
 Frenchman and realized his own inferiority to him 
 is attested more than once in his memoirs. In declar- 
 ing character studies to be the source of good comedy, 
 he says: "It is through them that Moliere began his 
 career and attained to a degree of perfection only 
 indicated by the ancients and still unequalled by the 
 moderns." When he saw The Misanthrope per- 
 formed at the Comedie Frangaise, he remarked that 
 "luckily he knew the piece," it being "the one among 
 
 6 Dictionnaire des literatures. 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 539 
 
 Moliere's works that he most esteemed." "It is a 
 play of unequalled perfection," he adds, while ac- 
 claiming Moliere "the first comic author who dared 
 to represent the manners and follies of his own age 
 and his own country." Witnessing that performance 
 of The Misanthrope, he longed for the joy of seeing 
 one of his own comedies played by such artists ; "yet 
 the best of my plays," he sighed, "is not worth the 
 poorest of Moliere's." His finest tribute to the great- 
 est of French dramatists is found, however, in the 
 following lines from his comedy The Ball, wherein 
 he shows a keen appreciation of Moliere's genius, 
 truth being its saliency: 
 
 Moliere's renown arose, in fact, because 
 
 He studied how the truth might please. Depicting 
 
 The French, he showed upon his merry stage 
 
 The scenes of every day. Divinities, 
 
 Fine airs, and styles had wearied them; now, manners 
 
 And trenchant satire gave them greater joy. 
 
 Italy, too, if she be fond of change, 
 
 With greater reason should delight in truth 
 
 Whenever she discovers it; for that 
 
 Which pleases all and ever pleases must 
 
 Forsooth endure throughout eternity. 
 
 When speaking of those who "so awkwardly com- 
 pare the Venetian with the French author," Goldoni 
 adds that this is to compare "the pupil with the Mas- 
 ter." Again, in dedicating The Antiquarian's 
 Family to Federigo Borromeo, he says that if "I 
 possessed Moliere's wit, I would do in Italy what 
 Moliere did in France." 
 
54 o GOLDONI 
 
 Goldoni was not the pupil of Moliere, nor was the 
 best of his plays inferior to the poorest of the French- 
 man's ; still there are points of similarity between the 
 two which should not be entirely overlooked. Both 
 learned their technic in the same school the Impro- 
 vised Comedy of Italy. By discarding the stereo- 
 typed characters and farcical intrigues of that comedy 
 for true characterization and human situations, each 
 created a national comedy of manners. Bearing in 
 mind the nuance that distinguishes naturalism from 
 realism, a modern shade of meaning that makes real- 
 ism the broader art, because, though painting life as 
 the artist sees it, it is suggestive, as well, naturalism 
 being no more than the accurate portrayal of that 
 which actually lies within the artist's vision it may 
 be said that Moliere was a realist and Goldoni a 
 naturalist, the Frenchman seeing further, though no 
 more faithfully, in his presentation of humanity than 
 the Italian. This is true certainly of the greatest 
 efforts of both poets. Goldoni's Venetian comedies 
 are true pictures of the life of the people, yet no 
 philosophy underlies their faithful humour. On the 
 other hand, Moliere's portrayals of French society 
 present side by side with what their author terms 
 "ridiculous likenesses," his love of truth and his im- 
 placable enmity to imposture and formalism. No- 
 where does Goldoni poise his lance and ride in battle 
 array against the vices and foibles of his time. In- 
 stead of making them an issue, he is content to point 
 his finger. 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLI^RE 541 
 
 As coincidence it may be noted that both drama- 
 tists attended for a time a school taught by Jesuits, 
 and that both studied law, although Goldoni alone 
 practised at the bar. Moreover, each of these mas- 
 ters of comedy, when harassed by the critics of his 
 day, defended his art by a dramatic skit, Moliere's 
 being styled The Criticism of the School for Wives 
 (La Critique de I'Ecole des femmes), and Goldoni's 
 The Comic Theatre, each being a dialogue rather 
 than a play, in which its author sets forth his theories 
 of dramatic art. Moreover, in The Versailles Im- 
 promptu, Moliere presented a picture of life behind 
 the scenes, proclaiming therein his histrionic creed, 
 while in Goldoni's Comic Theatre an experienced 
 comedian instructs a novice in the art of acting. 7 
 Goldoni, therefore, in a single play emulates two of 
 Moliere's, if indeed the disjointed Comic Theatre 
 may be termed a play; for while Moliere in The 
 Criticism of the School for Wives presents a fairly 
 well rounded comedy, Goldoni's polemic, une 
 poetlque mlse en action, as he styles it, is nothing 
 more than a series of scenes, lacking in coherence 
 and presenting neither a real conflict nor its solu- 
 tion. 8 
 
 7 Shakespeare's charge to the players in Hamlet, Moliere's talk to his 
 players in L'Impromptu de Versailles and Goldoni's dialogue between 
 an experienced actor and an inexperienced actress in // Teatro comico, 
 show that the histrionic creeds of these masters of dramatic art were 
 similar, simplicity and fidelity to nature, as opposed to the prevalent 
 fustian, being their tenets. 
 
 8 In three scenes of The Ball (II Festino)Act I, scene 5; act II, 
 scene 13; and act V, scene 5 Goldoni also defends his own work after 
 the manner employed by Moliere in La Critique de L'Ecole des femmes. 
 
542 GOLDONI 
 
 Although the coincidences in the lives of Moliere 
 and Goldoni that have been noted establish a casual 
 relationship between the two authors, these occur- 
 rences are merely fortuitous. It is in their treatment 
 of similar subjects that the closest agreement be- 
 tween them lies. Here Goldoni trespasses on Mo- 
 liere's preserves and, poacher that he is, presents but 
 a sorry figure; The Punctilious Ladies (Le Femmine 
 puntigliose) alone among the dozen or more of his 
 comedies, the plots or principal characters of which 
 are borrowed from Moliere, being in any degree 
 equal to the inspiration. 
 
 Although in these instances Goldoni is manifestly 
 a plagiarist, he is no such master of the art as the 
 man from whom he plagiarizes, for, unlike Moliere, 
 his polishing never enhances the value of the gems he 
 has purloined. On the contrary, in his endeavours 
 to adapt them to his own uses, he destroys also much 
 of their brilliancy. At home in the campielli of his 
 native Venice, Goldoni's genius goes astray in for- 
 eign parts, his forte lying in the painting of his 
 countrymen in their true colours, his folly in the 
 imitation of great men such as Moliere. When un- 
 hampered by laborious study of other masters, he 
 became the painter of nature Voltaire acclaimed him, 
 for in his comedies of the Venetian people there is 
 luckily no touch of Moliere nor of any other drama- 
 tist of the past. Here we find him lisping the soft 
 speech of Venice, while portraying in a lifelike way 
 the men and women of her streets. No need has he 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 543 
 
 to borrow characters or plots, the people of Venice 
 and their doings supplying him with material, and 
 to spare. Being so fecund and original it is a pity 
 he was ever tempted into poaching upon another 
 man's preserves ; yet having wrought clumsily a score 
 or more of Moliere's plots and characters into com- 
 edies neither French nor Italian, he courts compari- 
 son with the master, and becomes to those who know 
 him least, the Moliere of Italy. Being the most 
 natural of Italy's mirthful sons, it is wrong to com- 
 pare him with the soul of Gallic wit; yet having 
 wilfully trespassed on French soil, it is but just that 
 he should be arraigned. 
 
 "I was born peaceful," he says, "and have always 
 preserved my coolness of character," a statement 
 that accounts for his failure to answer his enemies in 
 The Comic Theatre with the stinging irony Moliere 
 uses in The Criticism of the School for Wives and 
 The Versailles Impromptu; it accounts, too, in con- 
 siderable degree, for the forgiving and peace-loving 
 character presented as Moliere in the comedy that 
 bears his name (II Moliere), this creation being a 
 subjective Goldoni, quite as much as an objective 
 Moliere. This five-act comedy in verse, presented at 
 Turin at a time (1751) when Goldoni was being 
 attacked for not emulating Moliere, tells between 
 its lines the story of its author's literary heart-burn- 
 ings. Though ostensibly characterizing the great- 
 est of French dramatists, in accordance with the 
 picture presented of him in the Sieur de Grimarest's 
 
544 GOLDONI 
 
 gossipy biography, 9 this play is in reality Goldoni's 
 answer to his critics, the following passage, for 
 instance, being his own apology for working at 
 fever-heat to please the multitude, rather than the 
 plea of his protagonist, who sometimes spent a year 
 upon a single play, until its verse was indeed 
 "adorned with lofty melody": 
 
 'Gainst captious friends, curt silence I array. 
 Uneven is my style, I trow; yet chance 
 Is not the cause. To artisans I speak, 
 And to the nobly born as well, with each 
 His tongue employing. In such variety 
 Of style, one scene the man of elegance 
 Will please, mayhap; anpther overjoy 
 The populace. If glory were my aim, 
 And not to win the multitude, with care 
 Enough and ample time, perchance I might 
 Adorn my verse with lofty melody. 
 
 Mollere tells a double story, the opposition to the 
 great dramatist's marriage with Armande Bejart 
 (here called Isabelle) on the part of jealous Made- 
 leine Bejart, ending in a victory for youth, and the 
 triumph of the dramatist over his enemies on the 
 occasion of the first public performance of The 
 Hypocrite (Le Tartuffe), two events in no way con- 
 temporaneous, yet justified in being made so by poetic 
 licence. Moliere's comrade, Michel Baron, appears 
 under the name of Valere, and Chapelle, the drama- 
 tist's lifelong friend, as Leandre; moreover, Goldoni 
 courts a comparison with Moliere little short of 
 
 9 La Vie de M. de Molttre, by J. L. Le Gallois, Sieur de Grimarest. 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 545 
 
 odious by the introduction of Pirlone, a character 
 with the attributes, but not the acumen of Tartuffe, 10 
 a whimpering, cringing hypocrite, who only serves 
 to demonstrate how ill at ease the Italian is when 
 upon the great Frenchman's own ground. Mollere 
 is by no means a bad play, indeed it is superior to 
 the one by George Sand upon the same subject; yet 
 in courting comparison with the most virile master- 
 piece of the great Frenchman it attempts to portray, 
 it becomes bad, Pirlone being an abject Tartuffe, 
 clumsily imitated, and the Bejart women, the one a 
 termagant, the other a simpering coquette. 
 
 There is such affinity, however, between men of 
 letters that Goldoni's subjectivity, whether conscious 
 or unconscious, places on Moliere's lips many an 
 expression befitting his character, as for instance this 
 passage, in which the rapture of literary success is 
 expressed at the moment when Moliere's Hypocrite 
 has triumphed upon the stage : 
 
 What ecstasy successful authors feel! 
 Fatigues endured! Chill perspiration shed! 
 (To La Bejart, who would interrupt) 
 In peace, the joy that fills my soul, pray let 
 Me drink, alone, content. To all who sought 
 To harass me, full pardon I extend; 
 My joy is therefore sweeter, more sincere. 
 With happy augury and generous wish 
 Around me press both enemies and friends, 
 Since those who once despised Tartuffe to his 
 Esteem are won by popular applause; 
 
 10 Pancrazio in / Due gemelli veneziani is another hypocritical char- 
 acter with the attributes of Tartuffe. 
 
546 GOLDONI 
 
 So true it is that men to the event incline 
 As do the golden wheat-sheaves to the wind. 
 
 Although in this play Goldoni often speaks ex- 
 cathedra, the gloominess and irascibility of Moliere's 
 nature are well indicated, together with his keen- 
 ness and sureness of observation, his perseverance, 
 moral earnestness, and unquenchable enmity to cant, 
 things either foreign to Goldoni himself or less 
 clearly developed in him than in the Frenchman he 
 is portraying; therefore, Moliere, in spite of the 
 Goldoni in him, is a creditable characterization. 
 The Italian author is on alien soil, however; hence 
 this play is at best but an acceptable presentation of 
 a subject foreign to his genius. 
 
 In his treatment of the Don Juan legend, Goldoni 
 again courts comparison with Moliere and is dwarfed 
 by him, his libertine being not a grand seigneur, 
 representative of a caste and an age such as the 
 Frenchman depicted, but rather a cowardly seducer 
 and a debauchee, besotted by excess. The vices of 
 Moliere's Don Juan are tempered by a courage that 
 wins reluctant admiration; the poltroonery of Gol- 
 doni's seducer in the face of death loses for him the 
 last vestige of our pity. Moliere's Don Juan, de- 
 fiantly following to his final doom the animated 
 statue of the man he has both wronged and murdered, 
 is the same proud, vicious nobleman of France who 
 a generation later bravely mounted the steps of the 
 guillotine with a sneer for the canaille on his haughty 
 lip, while Goldoni's Don Giovanni, though "natural 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 547 
 
 and not supernatural," as his author describes him, 
 is but a village rake. 
 
 In all justice it should be said that he was con- 
 ceived at an early period of Goldoni's career, Don 
 Juan Tenorio; or, The Debauchee (Don Giovanni 
 Tenorio, o sia II Dissolute), having been presented 
 to the public of Venice during the carnival of 1736, 
 when the dramatist was only twenty-nine years old 
 and had not yet developed his naturalistic talent. 
 Although this comedy ostensibly presents Goldoni's 
 version of a Spanish legend n which had already 
 been treated by a number of authors, including 
 Cicognini and Perrucci in Italy, Moliere in France, 
 and Shadwell in England, in reality it was written 
 for the purpose of revenge upon La Passalacqua, the 
 actress, who, it will be recalled, played fast and loose 
 with Goldoni's young affections by deserting him for 
 Vitalba, a Thespian. / 
 
 In a scene wherein Elisa, a shepherdess, is sur- 
 prised by Carino, her faithful swain, in the company 
 of Don Giovanni, Elisa speaks the actual words 
 La Passalacqua used to exculpate herself when Gol- 
 doni discovered her in Vitalba's arms, the name 
 Carino bestowed upon the injured shepherd being 
 Carlino, the diminutive of Carlo, the author's own 
 Christian name, minus a single letter. Here Gol- 
 doni appears inferior to Moliere in gentlemanly in- 
 
 11 El Burlador de Sevilla y convldado de piedra, commonly attributed 
 to Tirso de Molina; the original Spanish play in which this legend is 
 first put upon the stage, was produced early in the eighteenth century, 
 Don Juan Tenorio being the name of its protagonist. 
 
548 GOLDONI 
 
 stinct, for although the Frenchman is believed by 
 many to have revealed the sufferings of his own heart 
 in several instances, in order to uphold this conten- 
 tion it becomes necessary to read assiduously between 
 his lines ; whereas Goldoni paraded his questionable 
 amour openly, an offence against good taste, pardon- 
 able perhaps on the score of youth had he not at a 
 ripe age flaunted it again in the pages of his memoirs. 
 
 But Goldoni's character is as different from Mo- 
 liere's as his genius is foreign to the Frenchman's. 
 The one was light-hearted by nature and never over- 
 borne by sorrow or misfortune, the other as serious 
 and morose at times as Alceste, his misanthrope, 
 Moliere's views, like his experiences, being deeper 
 and farther reaching than those of his transalpine 
 rival. Yet both were at heart optimists, else they 
 could not have expressed themselves best in comedy. 
 There is a serious phase in Moliere's work, however, 
 indicative of the tragedy he lived, a sadder note 
 than is ever sounded by genial Goldoni, whose life, 
 save in its last moments, was a continuous comedy. 
 
 Nowhere in the coincidental work of these two 
 geniuses are the temperamental differences in their 
 natures so marked as in their presentment of avarice, 
 a subject Moliere treated in his immortal comedy, 
 The Miser (L'Avare), and Goldoni on five occa- 
 sions. In not a single instance, however, does the 
 Italian clothe avarice with attributes at once com- 
 passionate and contemptible, his misers being but 
 stage puppets set up to be laughed at, whereas 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLI^RE 549 
 
 Moliere's Harpagon, in spite of his farcical conduct, 
 is a believable human creature, who, though debased 
 by love of gold, is sympathetic as well as odious. 
 In the scene where he discovers the loss of his trea- 
 sure, he is no longer the laughing-stock of an amus- 
 ing farce, but the pitiful victim of a corroding vice, 
 made tragic by truth to human nature. 
 
 Among Goldoni's avaricious characters Harpa- 
 gon's nearest emulation is found in Ottavio, the 
 miser of The True Friend (II Vero amico). Be- 
 sides following Moliere and Plautus scrupulously \ 
 in the presentment of a niggardly father who buries 
 his treasure only to have it fall into the hands of 
 his offspring, Goldoni presents in this play the senti- 
 mental story of a lachrymose hero, who sacrifices his 
 love on the altar of friendship. Ottavio, however, 
 the father of the girl, whom the hero loves but dare 
 not win because she is affianced to his friend, is but 
 Harpagon in an ill-fitting garment. Though he 
 conceals his treasure in a well instead of in a garden, 
 and for the sentimental purpose of his author dies 
 conveniently of grief on discovering the loss of it, 
 he is merely a grotesque puppet, in no wise so human 
 as his masterly prototype. 
 
 In speaking of The Miser (L'Avaro), a one-act 
 prose comedy in which he again treats avarice, Gol- 
 doni remarks that "its title indicates one of those 
 characters which seems to have been worn thread- 
 bare by the masters of the art." He adds, however, 
 that "his is a new kind of miser, who is not worth the 
 
550 GOLDONI 
 
 others," a criticism likewise applicable to his other 
 victims of "the good old gentlemanly vice of ava- 
 rice," to wit, Pantalone, in The Jealous Miser; Cha- 
 teaudor, in The Ostentatious Miser; and Don Pro- 
 perzio, in The Contriving Woman; they being 
 characters a discussion of whose merits seems idle, 
 since they are in no respect "worth" the misers of 
 either of those masters of the art of comedy, Plautus 
 and Moliere. 
 
 Although in several of his comedies Moliere held 
 the empiric doctors of his day up to scorn and mock- 
 ery, Goldoni seeks to emulate him only in The 
 Feigned Invalid (La Flnta ammalata), a comedy 
 frankly imitated from Moliere's Love as a Doctor 
 (L f Amour medecln) f yet lacking in the trenchant 
 satire of the original. Indeed, Goldoni takes the 
 French master to task for having caricatured medi- 
 cine too severely. The fact that his own father had 
 been a medical man should perhaps excuse our 
 Venetian for the gingerly manner in which he satir- 
 izes the faculty; the introduction in this play of a 
 physician "at once wise and gentlemanly," to serve 
 as an honest counterfoil for a charlatan and an obse- 
 quious ignoramus, being made in order to uphold 
 the tenets of a profession in the efficacy and worthi- 
 ness of which Goldoni, unlike his great predecessor, 
 manifestly believed. His play thereby becomes a 
 tract instead of a satire, thus losing its right to serious 
 dramatic consideration. Together with the com- 
 edies dealing with avarice, it may be dismissed as 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 551 
 
 not "worth" those of Moliere, Goldoni's power lying 
 in good humour and naturalistic portraiture, not in 
 caustic satire such as the French master employed 
 against the doctors who had proved themselves so 
 incapable in his own regard. 
 
 Although there are traces of Moliere's influence 
 in other Goldonian comedies, so slight and unim- 
 portant are they that to draw further comparisons 
 here seems futile, since to do so would merely necessi- 
 tate calling further attention to the inferiority of Gol- 
 doni to Moliere whenever he trespasses upon the 
 master's soil. In one comedy, however, the Venetian, 
 while challenging direct comparison with Moliere, is 
 not utterly dwarfed by him, the single instance being 
 The Punctilious Ladies (Le Femmine puntigliose), 
 a play suggestive of The Burgher a Gentleman (Le 
 Bourgeois gentilhomme) in that it treats of social 
 climbing. 
 
 So humorous a character is Monsieur Jourdain, 
 the titular role of Moliere's comedy, that we are 
 likely to overlook his inconsistencies, as well as the 
 loose-jointed construction of the play in which he 
 appears. Monsieur Jourdain, moreover, is made to 
 play a part inconsistent with the shrewdness whereby 
 he has amassed his fortune; certainly, no sane man 
 would be imposed upon by the ridiculous Mama- 
 mouchi ceremony. Therefore, although Monsieur 
 Jourdain has been accepted universally as emble- 
 matical of social climbing, he is an emblem rather 
 than a naturally drawn character; for, laughable 
 
552 GOLDONI 
 
 though he is upon the stage, in real life his family 
 would petition the authorities to commit him to a 
 madhouse. 
 
 The French arriviste, to be sure, is a masculine 
 type, and male snobs are to be found the world over; 
 yet to typify the class that is elbowing its way into 
 society wherever it exists, a woman rather than a 
 man should be chosen, society being a feminine 
 oligarchy in which the voice of man is raised but 
 futilely, his function therein being to pay attentions, 
 as well as pay milliners' bills, but not to legislate. 
 In selecting a socially ambitious woman from the 
 provinces as his protagonist, rather than a metro- 
 politan shopkeeper, whose very calling should have 
 taught him that the bridging of class distinctions is 
 almost impossible, Goldoni, in this instance, shows 
 a truer insight into cosmopolitan life than does 
 Moliere. Nor is he led away from a true comedy 
 theme by any vulgar descent into fantastic farce, such 
 as the Frenchman made in order to regale his King 
 with oriental mummery. On the contrary, the 
 Venetian draws a true picture of the society of his 
 time, The Punctilious Ladies, or, to give it a more 
 modern significance, The Smart Women, being a 
 comedy of manners so lifelike that with slight alter- 
 ation it might pass current as a representation of 
 modern social life. 
 
 The heroine, Donna Rosaura, the daughter of a 
 rich provincial merchant, comes to Palermo with her 
 doting husband and her ill-trained servants, resolved 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 553 
 
 to cut a dash in metropolitan society and be able to 
 tell her friends at CastelP a Mare that in Palermo 
 she was received in the best society. When the play 
 opens, her irons are already in the fire, Count Lelio, 
 an impecunious young nobleman, having promised 
 to get her an introduction to Countess Beatrice, the 
 queen of Palermo society, of whom he is the cicisbeo. 
 The means by which many a modern parvenue el- 
 bows her way into "smart" circles are so cleverly 
 set forth that it is difficult not to read London or 
 Paris for the eighteenth-century Palermo of the 
 text, social promotion being apparently as flourishing 
 a trade in Goldoni's time as in our own. 
 
 The social promoter of to-day deftly arranges a 
 game of "auction" at which he, or she, plays with 
 the lady seeking an entree into the charmed circle. 
 In order that their opponents, among whom is the 
 reigning queen of society, may win, both overbid 
 their hands, the climber of course paying her part- 
 ner's losses. In the plucking of Donna Rosaura, a 
 wager takes the place of "auction," she being coached 
 by Count Lelio to bet with Countess Beatrice that 
 it is ten o'clock when it is eleven. Receiving a 
 jewelled watch as his fee, Lelio presents the countess 
 to his humble client; but when the noble visitor as- 
 serts that it is eleven o'clock, Donna Rosaura is so 
 over-awed by her august guest that, forgetting the 
 wager she has been coached to make, she humbly 
 admits the countess's infallibility. Count Lelio is 
 obliged to nudge her, and lead the conversation back 
 
554 GOLDONI 
 
 into appropriate channels, until Donna Rosaura has 
 the wit to lay a hundred dopple that it is noon at 
 eleven o'clock, the proceeds of which factitious bet 
 the countess pockets; whereupon she deigns to ask 
 Donna Rosaura to attend a conversazione, though 
 she scorns to include in her invitation Don Florindo, 
 the climber's doting husband. 
 
 This man is uxorious, a failing which Pantalone, 
 his dead father's friend, thus seeks to eradicate : 
 
 It is well to love your wife, but not to your own ruin. A 
 husband who loves his wife too much and is blinded by his love 
 and led by it, is in a worse state than one who is infatuated with 
 a mistress. Fascinating though she may be, it is always possible 
 to free oneself from a mistress, but a wife yielded to at the begin- 
 ning must be suffered perforce. If the mistress, to keep her pro- 
 tector's love, sometimes submits to it, the wife, conscious of her 
 own dominion over her husband's heart, commands, demands, and 
 expects, until the poor man is obliged to yield to force what once 
 he yielded too readily to love. 
 
 Being asked how a wife may be made tractable 
 against her will, this practical man of affairs sug- 
 gests a beating, whereupon the horrified husband 
 asks him if under similar circumstances he would 
 beat his own wife. "For the sake of appearances," 
 he says, "I should beat her in a locked room without 
 any one's knowing about it, but I should beat her." 
 
 While weak Don Florindo is being thus admon- 
 ished by this most sophisticated of all Goldoni's 
 Pantalones, his ambitious wife is making her first 
 appearance in fashionable circles. Meeting at the 
 Countess Beatrice's two other countesses, she sees 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 555 
 
 their noses tilt haughtily upward when they learn 
 that she is a shopkeeper's daughter, though their 
 swains are polite to her, as men usually are in such 
 circumstances. 
 
 After publicly snubbing the upstart, these punc- 
 tilious ladies resolve to pay her a surreptitious visit, 
 each for her own ends. The first to present herself 
 is the Countess Clarice, her object being to get a 
 bargain in silk from among the three pieces Rosaura 
 has brought to Palermo to be made into gowns by a 
 smart dressmaker. But when the haughty visitor 
 learns that the silk is of Venetian manufacture, she 
 scorns it utterly, since "to be pretty, silk must be 
 made in France"; whereupon her parvenue hostess 
 gives ex-cathedra utterance to the following speech 
 in which "America" may be substituted for the word 
 "Italy," with profit to our own countrywomen: 
 
 Alas, countess, opinion governs. They know how to work in 
 Italy just as well as they do in France; yet we women make it 
 a point of honour to insist that foreign goods are better than Ital- 
 ian, and if our workmen wish to sell their products successfully, 
 they must pretend they are made in France. Thus sacrificing to 
 greater profits its self-esteem, poor Italy discredits itself through 
 the false sentiments of Italians themselves! 
 
 Unmoved by this patriotic outburst, Countess 
 Clarice departs abruptly, and meets at the door her 
 friend Countess Eleonora, to whom she explains her 
 call by saying that she has been to the little shop- 
 keeper's to buy gold brocade, the Countess Eleonora 
 replying that her aim is to purchase Holland cloth. 
 
556 GOLDONI 
 
 Being left waiting at the door while Brighella, the 
 servant, repeats this conversation to his mistress, 
 Countess Eleonora departs in a huff; whereupon 
 Donna Rosaura, undaunted by the snubs she has 
 already received, sends Brighella in hot pursuit with 
 her apologies; a new source of offence, since in the 
 punctilious world to which the countess belongs no 
 lady may be waylaid by a footman. 
 
 To be received in society, Donna Rosaura is pre- 
 pared to suffer any affront, yet the only house she 
 enters is opened by a hundred doppie. To win her 
 social sponsor's gormandizing husband to her cause, 
 she invites him to partake of the pheasants and 
 partridges she has received from her place in the 
 country, and when he is assured that her purse will 
 pay for the supper, he compels his wife to give a 
 dance in her honour. Yet the very occasion that 
 should have been this little climber's making proves 
 her undoing, Countess Eleonora having vowed ven- 
 geance for the affront of having been kept waiting 
 at her door. 
 
 The following scene in which this punctilious lady 
 and her friends humiliate Donna Rosaura displays 
 GoldonPs deft stagecraft, learned in the school of 
 The Improvised Comedy. The place is an illu- 
 minated ball-room, in which Countess Beatrice, 
 Count Onofrio, her husband, and Count Lelio, her 
 cicisbeo, are awaiting the guests, the music having 
 already begun to play an overture. 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 557 
 
 Enter Countess Clarice attended by a supernumerary gentleman. 
 Two more super ladies and gentlemen. Beatrice advances to 
 receive the ladies, who enter on the arms of their escorts. When 
 they have entered, Beatrice seats the three ladies at centre, the 
 gentlemen at right and left conversing together. Lelio sits apart, 
 and Beatrice, after having paid her compliments to the ladies, sits 
 by Lelio. The overture continues; enter meanwhile Rosaura and 
 Florindo. Beatrice arises, goes to receive her, seats her near 
 Clarice, and returns to Lelio. Florindo joins the gentlemen. 
 Clarice and the two ladies bow coldly to Rosaura and continue 
 whispering together. Soon Clarice arises, and approaching Bea- 
 trice, pretends to talk with her ; the other two ladies rise, approach 
 Clarice, and leaving Rosaura alone, speak in whispers with Clarice. 
 Florindo rises to speak to Rosaura, but she angrily repulses him 
 and he returns to his seat. Enter Countess Eleonora and Count 
 Ottavio. Beatrice arises, goes to meet her, and leads her toward 
 the seat beside Rosaura, speaking low to her; Rosaura shakes her 
 head. Enter a dancing-master, who stops the overture and orders 
 a minuet. Musicians play. At Beatrice's command, the dancing- 
 master takes Rosaura and begins the minuet with her. While 
 Rosaura dances, exeunt the ladies one by one, the gentlemen fol- 
 lowing their ladies. Lelio, to halt them, rises and follows them. 
 Rosaura, seeing all the guests leave before the minuet has ended, 
 turns angrily upon Beatrice, who flies into a rage. Musicians 
 stop playing. 
 
 Here occurs the first written dialogue, the above 
 being acted in pantomime, or, perhaps, with impro- 
 vised dialogue: 
 
 ROSAURA 
 
 What! such an insult to me! 
 
 BEATRICE 
 
 The insult is to me, and I receive it on account of you. 
 
558 GOLDONI 
 
 FLORINDO 
 
 (Aside to Rosaura) Let us go, let us go ; I shall make them an- 
 swer to me. 
 
 BEATRICE 
 
 Confound the day I met you. 
 
 ROSAURA 
 
 From a woman of your sort, nothing better could be expected. 
 
 Not to dwell too long upon Donna Rosaura's 
 heart-burnings, let it be said that, having packed her 
 trunks for CastelP a Mare and loaded her servants 
 and her husband in her travelling coach, she, while 
 the postilion cracks his whip outside, forces herself 
 into Countess Eleonora's house in the midst of a 
 conversazione and plays this final card of revenge: 
 
 I thank you ladies for your kindness. I thank you for the 
 civility some of you have deigned to show me in private, as well 
 as for the permission given me to make this final statement in 
 public. In flattering myself that I might be admitted into your 
 circle, I confess that I aimed too high. Yet, in order that the 
 explanation I shall make of the motives inspiring this longing on 
 my part may be understood, pray remember, in the first place, that 
 I was brought up in a place where, commerce having obviated 
 class distinctions, decent people treat each other familiarly and 
 talk unreservedly; therefore it was no effrontery for me to 
 hope that, with but little more difficulty, I might be admitted into 
 the society of the ladies of this city. ... If an introduction to your 
 circle was offered to me for cash, it is pardonable for me to have 
 believed that even I had the right to aspire to it. I speak without 
 reserve; I take off my mask, hurt whom I may. For a hundred 
 doppie Countess Beatrice sold me her mediation, and for that price 
 assured me an introduction into the society of you ladies. ... I 
 bear neither her nor you a grudge; it is sufficient for me to have 
 shown that I am neither foolish, weak, nor presumptuous. My 
 carriage awaits, my husband urges haste, I am returning to my 
 native town, and with me I shall carry the recollection of your 
 
GOLDONI AND MOLIERE 559 
 
 condescension and my misadventure. Furthermore, in reward for 
 the kindness you have shown me, permit me to warn you that both 
 your reputation and your society have been defiled by a perfidious 
 and sordid lady more than your dignity has been offended by my 
 low birth. 
 
 Having discharged this parting bolt, Rosaura de- 
 parts for Castell' a Mare, leaving society scandalized 
 by the disgrace the venality of one of its members 
 has brought upon it. Countess Beatrice is ostracized, 
 and in order that no dishonour shall attach to their 
 order, Count Ottavio collects from the nobility a 
 hundred dopple to repay Rosaura the fee she has 
 paid for her social promotion. Yet in spite of this 
 chivalrous restitution, it is difficult not to feel that 
 this little parvenue is a more wholesome and praise- 
 worthy person than the members of the punctilious 
 society she strove so hard to enter. She is no such 
 farcical personification, moreover, as Monsieur 
 Jourdain, but a flesh-and-blood person such as we 
 have all met elbowing her way into society. 
 
 Here Goldoni is on his own ground, and standing 
 securely there, he is not overshadowed by his great 
 predecessor. The dialogue of The Punctilious 
 Ladles is, to be sure, less scintillating than that of 
 Moliere's comedy, and in acting qualities it is infer- 
 ior, Donna Rosaura being no such "fat part" as 
 Monsieur Jourdain; yet it is doubtful whether just 
 such an upstart as he may be encountered in real 
 life, while no one may travel far in cosmopolitan 
 society without meeting more than one Rosaura a 
 little bourgeoise, whose head is turned by the gla- 
 
560 GOLDONI 
 
 mour of rank. Though striving by every means 
 she can command to enter its charmed precincts, this 
 ambitious climber from CastelF a Mare is endowed 
 with enough common sense to turn her horses' heads 
 thither, after realizing her shame and confounding 
 her enemies, a course of conduct that assures us she 
 will return to her provincial birthplace a wiser and 
 a better woman. 
 
 In fidelity to nature lies Goldoni's genius. All 
 the study he put upon the construction of his plays 
 was designed, he declares, in order "not to spoil 
 nature"; yet, except in the single instance of The 
 Punctilious Ladles, he not only spoiled nature but 
 debased his own genius as well whenever he tres- 
 passed on the soil of his one surpassing rival in the 
 realm of comedy. "We should respect the great 
 masters who have hewn the path of science and art," 
 he announces, "since every age has its dominant 
 genius." In making use of Moliere's plots and cha- 
 racters he forgot, alas, his own qualifications to this 
 wise observation, to the effect that "every clime has 
 its national taste," for only when straying from the 
 genial warmth of Venice into a clime to which his 
 southern blood was not attuned does he become in- 
 significant. 
 

 XVII 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 DURING the year in which Goldoni laid aside 
 court frills for slippered comfort (1780), 
 Louis XVI suppressed his Italian troupe: 
 henceforth French opera and comedy reigned alone 
 at the Hotel de Bourgogne until its doors were closed 
 in 1783, the native singers and players being then 
 installed in a new playhouse that bore the name of 
 Goldoni's friend Favart. The name Comediens 
 Italiens still clung to them, however, although the 
 only transalpine artist who remained in their ranks 
 was Carlo Bertinazzi (Carlino), retained because 
 Arlecchino had become naturalized in French 
 comedy. 
 
 Before leaving windy Versailles, Goldoni had 
 written the libretti of three operas bouffes, his last 
 dramatic work, 1 and he had expected to be invited 
 to arrange for the Parisian stage the musical pieces 
 that were given in Paris (1777-1778) by a troupe of 
 visiting Italian buffi; but not until these singers had 
 failed to please the French public did they solicit 
 his aid. Although he lamented patriotically their 
 ill success, he did not come to their assistance, his 
 
 1 L'Isola di Bengodi and / Volponi, 1777; // Talismano, 1779. 
 
562 GOLDONI 
 
 pride having been offended by their previous neglect, 
 while he thought the evil of their mistakes was too 
 deeply seated to be remedied at the eleventh hour. 
 In his memoirs, however, he does not glory over the 
 Parisian downfall either of these buffi or of the un- 
 appreciative comedians who had brought him to 
 Paris; nor does he deplore the failure of a transla- 
 tion of one of his comedies, 2 which appeared upon 
 French boards in 1785, rancour and complaint being 
 foreign to his kindly nature, and his "experience with 
 success both good and ill," too extensive to permit 
 him "to do aught but render justice to the public 
 without sacrificing his tranquillity." 
 
 Having undergone these final torments of his pro- 
 fessional career, he was at last able to delight in 
 "the honour, love, obedience, and troops of friends," 
 which according to Shakespeare should accompany 
 old age. In the enjoyment of these he shall be left 
 for the time being, two happenings of the days when 
 he played a modest role at court having purposely 
 been passed by until the reader should be familiar 
 with The Beneficent Bear, as well as its author's 
 long correspondence with Voltaire; the former being 
 pertinent to his acquaintance with Rousseau, and the 
 latter to the visit he paid to the great Frenchman 
 who had extolled his genius. 
 
 Rousseau returned to Paris in 1770, and Goldoni, 
 like all the world, wished to meet him, so he re- 
 quested an interview and was told that if he would 
 
 2 Un Curioso accidente. 
 
CONCLUSION 563 
 
 take the trouble to climb four flights of stairs in 
 the rue Platriere, the author of Emile would be 
 pleased to see him. Doing as he was bid, the door 
 at the top of the four flights of stairs was opened 
 for him by sodden Therese Levasseur, his host's con- 
 cubine-wife, whom Goldoni mistook for a house- 
 keeper. 
 
 Rousseau, who was copying music, extended a 
 "frank and friendly greeting." "Look, sir," said he, 
 with a copy-book in his hand, "I challenge a score 
 to leave a press as beautiful and exact as it leaves my 
 house." Therese was summoned to place a log on 
 the fire, and Goldoni's heart became so grieved at 
 seeing "the man of letters employed as a copyist and 
 his wife acting as a servant" that he could hide 
 "neither his chagrin nor his astonishment." Per- 
 ceiving that something was passing in the mind of 
 the dramatist, Rousseau, who, as we are assured, 
 "was no fool," forced a confession of the cause of 
 his guest's amazement; whereupon this spirited argu- 
 ment ensued, our dramatist being the narrator: 
 
 "What!" said Rousseau, "y u pity me because I am engaged 
 in copying. You imagine that I should be better employed in 
 writing books for people incapable of reading them, and articles 
 for unprincipled journalists? You are mistaken. I am passion- 
 ately fond of music; I copy originals, and thereby earn my liveli- 
 hood; I am amused and that is sufficient for me. But you," he 
 exclaimed, "what are you yourself doing? You came to France 
 to work for the Italian actors, who are a lazy lot, and have no 
 use for your plays. Off with you! Go home, where I know you 
 are both wanted and expected." 
 
 "Monsieur," said I, interrupting him; "you are right; I should 
 
564 GOLDONI 
 
 have left Paris after experiencing the disregard of the Italian 
 players, but other purposes have detained me. I have been writ- 
 ing a play in French." 
 
 "You have been writing a play in French!" said he, with aston- 
 ishment; "what do you expect to do with it?" 
 
 "Give it to a theatre." 
 
 "To what theatre?" 
 
 "To the Comedie Franchise. You reproach me for losing my 
 time, but it is you who lose yours without any good results. My 
 play has been accepted." 
 
 "Is it possible ? I 'm not surprised, however, for the actors have 
 no common sense; they accept or reject at random. It is accepted, 
 perhaps, but it won't be acted, and so much the worse for you if 
 it were." 
 
 "How can you form an opinion of a play you have never seen?" 
 
 "I know the taste of the Italians as well as that of the French; 
 they are too dissimilar, and, with your permission, your age is 
 not the time at which to begin to write in a foreign tongue." 
 
 "Your reflections are just, monsieur, but such difficulties may 
 be overcome. I have entrusted my work both to men of ability 
 and to connoisseurs who appeared to like it." 
 
 "You have been flattered and deceived, and you will be the dupe. 
 Let me see your play. I am frank and above-board, and I will 
 tell you the truth." 
 
 Authorlike, it had been Goldoni's aim to induce 
 the Citizen of Geneva to read The Beneficent Bear, 
 yet luckily the manuscript was in the hands of a 
 copyist, and before he could take it to the rue 
 Platriere, a literary friend 3 told him of an experi- 
 ence he had had with Rousseau, which demonstrated 
 clearly the unwisdom of again bearding that boorish 
 philosopher in his fourth-floor den. This friend, it 
 
 8 Goldoni calls him "M ". Madame de Genlis, who tells ap- 
 proximately the same anecdote in her Souvenirs de Felicie, also refrains 
 from naming him. 
 
CONCLUSION 565 
 
 appears, had been invited to read a literary product 
 in the rue Platriere, and also to furnish a bottle of 
 good wine for the frugal supper that was to precede 
 the lection. Interpreting this invitation liberally he 
 brought not one but a dozen bottles, eleven of which 
 Rousseau indignantly put out of doors before he 
 would consent to sit down to the chicken and salad 
 Therese had prepared. When the reading, thus 
 rudely introduced, began, the author had barely fin- 
 ished a chapter of his work, before his host sprang 
 to his feet and angrily declared that a bearish char- 
 acter in the manuscript was a satirical portrait of 
 himself, a charge the guest as hotly denied, the up- 
 shot being a fierce quarrel, followed by an acrid 
 correspondence. 
 
 "Rousseau was a bear," Goldoni declares; "he had 
 acknowledged it in this quarrel with his friend; he 
 had only to become addicted to beneficence. He 
 would have said it was he whom I wished to coun- 
 terfeit in The Beneficent Bear; therefore I took good 
 care not to subject myself to his ill temper, and I 
 saw him no more." 
 
 In visiting Voltaire at the time of this philoso- 
 pher's Parisian triumph (1778), Goldoni, instead 
 of gratifying idle curiosity and his author's vanity 
 as was the case in his pilgrimage to the rue Platriere 
 only repaid a deep-seated obligation, albeit inade- 
 quately. Although the disciples of Rousseau may 
 dispute the contention of an American apostle of 
 reason that Voltaire "did more to free the human 
 
566 GOLDONI 
 
 race than any other of the sons of men," there is little 
 doubt that he did more to make Goldoni known 
 abroad than any man of his century, for if a genius 
 must needs be discovered, he was the Columbus who 
 revealed his Venetian contemporary to Europe. 
 Goldoni's visit to the Sage of Ferney was a tardy 
 fulfilment of a duty he should in all conscience have 
 performed when he journeyed to Paris in 1762, the 
 route by way of Geneva being but a trifle longer than 
 that through Lyons, where he tarried almost for a 
 fortnight without excuse. Indeed even that most 
 erudite and sympathetic of Goldonians, Professor 
 E. Maddalena, can offer no better reason for his 
 fellow-countryman's neglect to pay his respects to 
 Voltaire at that time, than the surmise that since Vol- 
 taire was at odds with the French court, Goldoni 
 felt it would be indiscreet to visit him while on his 
 way to serve the French King. 4 The dramatist's 
 own reason for not passing through Geneva and em- 
 bracing M. de Voltaire, as the latter fondly expected 
 him to do, 5 was the fear that he might "show over- 
 bearing boldness." Moreover he hesitated "to abuse 
 the love and anxiety with which it had been shown 
 he was awaited," 6 an insufficient reason, it would 
 seem, for not turning aside a few leagues to pay his 
 respects to the great Frenchman who had extolled 
 his genius far and wide. At all events, Goldoni 
 
 *Bricciche goldoniane (La Visita al Voltaire}. 
 
 5 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, Sept. 5, 1761, quoted by E. Maddalena, 
 op. cit. 
 
 6 Letter to Gabriel Cornet, Aug. 19, 1762. 
 
CONCLUSION 567 
 
 forwent the expected visit, and did not pay homage 
 to his benefactor until sixteen years later, when Vol- 
 taire was the cause of "the last great commotion in 
 Paris under the old regime." 7 
 
 On the day following his arrival in Paris, Voltaire 
 received three hundred visitors, and so many friends 
 and deputations crowded his antechamber on suc- 
 ceeding days that by the end of the week he fell ill. 
 In spite of Dr. Tronchin's admonitions, he refused 
 to deny himself to visitors; therefore, in the words 
 of Madame du Deffand, "all Parnassus from the 
 mire to the summit" flocked to the Hotel Villette. 
 On Tuesday, February lyth, 1778, when Goldoni 
 wended his way thither, there were at least twenty 
 deferential subjects waiting to be ushered into the 
 presence of the King of intellectual Europe, who, 
 with a dressing-gown for his royal robe and a night- 
 cap for his crown, sat enthroned in pillows. Possi- 
 bly Benjamin Franklin was there, and Goldoni a 
 bewildered listener, when Voltaire assured his 
 wise guest in the latter's own language, that if he 
 were forty he would go and settle in his happy coun- 
 try, and blessed, at the same time, his young grand- 
 son with the words "God and Liberty." 8 Although 
 reproved by Madame Denis for talking English to 
 Franklin, who understood French, Voltaire dis- 
 played the same linguistic vanity during his con- 
 versation with Goldoni; since, according to a 
 
 7 John Morley: Voltaire. 
 
 8 Professor E. Maddalena (op. cit.) suggests that Goldoni was present 
 at the time of Franklin's visit. 
 
5 68 GOLDONI 
 
 pamphleteer who was present, he assured the trans- 
 alpine dramatist in his own tongue that he considered 
 him the restorer of Italian seemliness and good taste. 
 "We were all astonished," says this witness, "to hear 
 M. de Voltaire speak Italian with as much facility 
 and speed as French, a surprise M. Goldoni aug- 
 mented by telling us that M. de Voltaire had once 
 written him a letter not only in Italian but in Vene- 
 tian." 9 
 
 Though in his memoirs he pays full tribute to 
 Voltaire's greatness, Goldoni is singularly reticent 
 regarding his relations with the man to whom he 
 owed European recognition. "All the world wished 
 to see Monsieur de Voltaire," he says, "and happy 
 were those who could talk with him. I was of that 
 number, for I was too deeply indebted to him not 
 to make haste in paying him my homage, and ex- 
 pressing my gratitude." Thus the Venetian ac- 
 knowledges his debt to his great contemporary and 
 shows that he considered its requital a duty; there- 
 fore, although he omitted to pass through Geneva 
 on his way to Paris in 1762, he may be absolved of 
 the charge of utter ingratitude. "II caro Goldoni'' 
 lamented Voltaire at that time, 10 "II figlio della 
 natura wishes to let me die without giving me the 
 consolation of seeing him. He wrote from Lyons 
 
 9 An article in the Journal de Paris (Feb. 20, 1778) by Francois de 
 Neufchateau. This article, dated Feb. 19, 1778, states that the writer 
 visited Voltaire two days before, from which Professor Maddalena, who 
 quotes it (op. cit.), infers that Goldoni's visit took place on Feb. 17. 
 
 10 Letter to Albergati-Capacelli, Aug. 25, 1762. 
 
CONCLUSION 569 
 
 that he was unable to pass by my house because his 
 wife was with him; yet surely I would not have 
 stolen his wife, and I should have received both of 
 them with as much cordiality as they could meet 
 h anywhere else." Sixteen years passed before 
 Goldoni gave Voltaire the consolation he craved, 
 which, had it been longer deferred, he would have 
 died without receiving. 
 
 Two years after his visit to the greatest French- 
 man of his century, Goldoni resigned his Italian 
 tutorship in order to pass his declining years in 
 the salubrious valley of the Seine. "Paris is a great 
 region and the court is vast," he had declared shortly 
 after his arrival in his adopted country. "In order 
 to obtain preferment time is necessary." " Seven- 
 teen years of service and courtiery had been neces- 
 sary for the attainment of a sinecure for his nephew 
 and a modest pension for himself; therefore the 
 truth of this apothegm is apparent, at least in his 
 
 CISC. 
 
 Although in his seventy-third year when he retired 
 from the vast court to settle down in Paris, he de- 
 clares that he still enjoyed good health. He was 
 obliged, however, "to observe certain precautions in 
 order to preserve his vigour" ; and although thirteen 
 years of his long life were still to be lived, he began 
 to read attentively a treatise on old age. The place 
 of his Parisian residence at this time (1780) has not 
 been recorded, though possibly he dwelt in the nar- 
 
57 o GOLDONI 
 
 row rue pavee Saint-Sauveur where he died; a man 
 of his years, unless forced to move by the stress of 
 misfortune, being unlikely to change his abode. 
 
 Soon after he left Versailles his niece, Petronilla 
 Margherita, married in Venice a worthy widower 
 of the latter city, named Chiaruzzi, who with his 
 first wife had assumed charge of her welfare after 
 she had left the convent in which she had been edu- 
 cated. "My nephew and I transferred to her all 
 our Italian property," says Goldoni; and although 
 he makes no mention in his memoirs of the death of 
 his hare-brained brother, it is apparent that this event 
 had taken place previously to his niece's wedding, 
 since at the time Goldoni left Venice he deeded his 
 Italian possessions to Gian Paolo. The marvel is 
 that any property remained to transfer to Petronilla 
 Margherita after it had touched her father's itching 
 palm. 
 
 Goldoni rejoiced in his niece's marriage as "an 
 event necessary to his tranquillity"; yet little hap- 
 pened to disturb his peace of mind during the first 
 few years of his retirement from court duties. These 
 years were passed in the enjoyment of convivial so- 
 ciety, or in frequenting the theatres of Paris, where 
 he delighted in seeing the works of young authors 
 which he viewed in a way more friendly than criti- 
 cal, his judgment of plays by his contemporaries 
 being strikingly at fault. He applauds, for instance, 
 a worthless tragedy 12 by La Harpe, "the Baby of 
 
 12 Coriolan. 
 
CONCLUSION 571 
 
 literature" as Freron styled him, and an affected 
 comedy 13 by the Marquis de Bievre, arch-punster 
 of that day; and contends that a comedy by syco- 
 phantic Vigee, 14 which was quickly consigned by 
 the public to the limbo of bad plays, showed its 
 author to be the possessor of "a perfect taste, tone, 
 and style" ; yet he is singularly obtuse in his estimate 
 of The Marriage of Figaro (Le Mariage de Fi- 
 garo), the nimble-witted protagonist of which Na- 
 poleon declared to be "The Revolution in action." 
 Of this latter play, which shares with The Barber of 
 Seville (Le Barbier de Seville) the distinction of 
 being the most masterly French comedy of the eigh- 
 teenth century, in which its aggressive author turned 
 the full battery of his trenchant wit against the insti- 
 tutions of the old regime at a range so point-blank 
 that the discharge left them tottering on undermined 
 foundations, Goldoni merely says: 
 
 The Marriage of Figaro had the greatest success at the Comedie 
 Frangaise, because its author had preceded this title with that of 
 The Wanton Day (La Folle journee.) No one knew better than 
 M. de Beaumarchais the faults of his play; he had given proof of 
 his talent in this style of writing, and if he had wished to con- 
 struct a comedy within the rules of the art, he could have done 
 so as well as any one; he merely wished, however, to amuse the 
 public, and he succeeded perfectly well. 
 
 Although Goldoni confesses that "the success of 
 this comedy was quite extraordinary," and admits 
 that its predecessor The Barber of Seville was "rel- 
 ished and applauded," he is careful to add that "the 
 
 13 Le Seducteur. 14 La Fausse coquette. 
 
572 GOLDONI 
 
 connoisseurs and amateurs of good style made their 
 complaints against these works resound, for in their 
 opinion they were executed for the purpose of de- 
 grading the Theatre Frangais." A revival of The 
 Beneficent Bear which had been announced for the 
 season in which The Marriage of Figaro appeared 
 upon the boards of this playhouse was three times 
 delayed, 15 and as no record exists of its having taken 
 place, probably it was postponed indefinitely because 
 of the extraordinary success of Beaumarchais's 
 comedy. 
 
 This suggests a human reason for Goldoni's failure 
 to render full justice to the merits of his indefatigable 
 contemporary, who possessed, moreover, a sharp 
 tongue, while the charge of excessive modesty can- 
 not justly be laid at his door. It is possible, there- 
 fore, that Goldoni met and disliked Figaro's brilliant 
 creator in the chateau de Versailles at the time when, 
 glorying in his newly purchased nobility, the latter 
 gave lessons on the harp to Mesdames de France, 
 and was the moving spirit of the intimate concerts 
 in which the royal family delighted. Whether or 
 not this surmise be true, it is certain that Goldoni 
 was at odds with posterity's verdict in his estimate 
 of Beaumarchais's two masterpieces. In fairness to 
 his sense of justice it may be added, however, that 
 he went no further afield in this instance than in his 
 judgment of his own plays, some of the most medi- 
 ocre of which he places among his best works. 
 
 15 Letter to Le Baron van der Duyn, May 7, 1784, quoted by Charles 
 Rabany, op. cit. 
 
CONCLUSION 573 
 
 Although Goldoni's critical discernment was oc- 
 casionally obscured by ardour or prejudice, he took 
 a keen delight in music and painting, as well as in 
 the art he graced, and warmly upheld artistic con- 
 scientiousness; humbug being his aversion, as is 
 instanced by this aptly modern conspectus of the 
 wealthy art collector: 
 
 The rich man wishes to have in his study a picture by the 
 painter who has become distinguished. The less fortunate ama- 
 teur contents himself with mediocrity. Some people employ 
 artists and sculptors so that it may be printed in the catalogue 
 that this picture was painted for Monsieur So-and-so, this bust 
 carved for Madame Such-and-such, while others have their por- 
 traits painted for the pleasure of having their faces appear in the 
 salon. 
 
 Ever the foe of artistic falsehood, Goldoni made 
 truth his shibboleth, and he wisely believed in the 
 public recognition of artistic merit. "There are 
 men so ill advised," he says, "as to say that the 
 French Academy is useless. . . . On the contrary, it 
 places a crown upon merit and inspires talent to 
 deserve it." Yet this artistic digression is so 
 remote from the events of Goldoni's declining years, 
 that a return to the simple tenor of his life in Paris 
 becomes pertinently necessary. 
 
 After his retirement from the court, he continued 
 to delight in convivial companionships, although the 
 ravages old age had made upon his health obliged 
 him to safeguard his digestion by refusing, when- 
 ever possible, to sup with his friends. Invitations 
 to dine, however, he accepted with alacrity, and he 
 
574 GOLDONI 
 
 seldom failed to attend a gaming party. The Pari- 
 sian cabmen recruited in his day as in our own 
 "from among the vilest and roughest of men"- 
 were his especial aversion; yet he boasts of never 
 having had a dispute with any of them, because he 
 always spoke to them "civilly and softly." Still he 
 preferred walking to entrusting himself to their 
 reckless driving, and he delighted particularly in 
 making excursions to Belleville, Passy, or Clignan- 
 cour, where, in the gardens of friends, he might 
 breathe fresh country air and enjoy agreeable society. 
 The routine of his daily life in Paris he thus 
 describes : 
 
 I arise at nine in the morning and breakfast on chocolat de 
 sante, of which an excellent sort is furnished me by Madame Fon- 
 tain, rue des Arcis. I work until noon, then stroll until two; I 
 am fond of society; I dine out frequently, or at home in the society 
 of my wife. 
 
 This patient helpmate was attacked by pleurisy a 
 few years after leaving the court, where she had 
 always been ill at ease, and while she was confined 
 to her room, her lord, whose infidelities she had so 
 frequently condoned, felt it a duty to sit by her bed- 
 side and comfort her. "My poor wife," he ex- 
 claims, "had paid so much attention to me, that it 
 was necessary for me to pay some to her." He in- 
 variably speaks of her in this fondly appreciative 
 way, yet she played but a minor role in the comedy 
 of his life. Fond and forbearing, she appears now 
 and then in his memoirs as a typical bourgeoise, 
 
THE CARD PARTY 
 
 Museo Correr 
 
CONCLUSION 575 
 
 resigned, dutiful, and loyal, yet in no wise compan- 
 ionable to a man of his parts and predilections. 
 "Good Nicolettal" The term is justly apt. Alas, 
 how few men of genius have had the fortune to be 
 attended through life by wives as innocuously faith- 
 ful as Goldoni's colourless helpmate! Yet Nico- 
 letta seems to have been more necessary to her hus- 
 band's well-being during his octogenarian days than 
 at any other period of her wifely companionship, 
 for then at least she played a comforting part in the 
 placid life he here depicts: 
 
 After my dinner I like neither to work nor walk; sometimes I 
 go to the theatre, but more often I play cards until nine in the 
 evening. I return home before ten, take two or three chocolate 
 comfits with a glass of water and wine, which constitute my en- 
 tire supper. Until midnight I chat with my wife; in winter we 
 sleep together maritally; in summer we occupy twin beds in the 
 same room. I fall asleep quickly and pass the nights peacefully. 
 
 Whenever, as happened occasionally, his "head 
 was filled with things that drove sleep away," he 
 worked upon a dictionary of the Venetian dialect, 
 which he had long planned to publish "an annoy- 
 ing and distasteful" remedy, as he declares, which 
 was narcotically effective to one blessed like himself 
 with a temperament in which "the moral is analogous 
 to the physical." "I fear neither cold nor heat," he 
 asserts in this connection, "and I do not allow myself 
 to become inflamed by anger or intoxicated by joy." 
 
 Such was his unruffled character, and such the 
 tranquil life he led during the old age of cards, 
 
576 GOLDONI 
 
 which Pope declares to be the world's sole reward 
 for its veterans after the frolics of youth are spent. 
 In Goldoni's case, however, the writing of his me- 
 moirs gave old age a recompense far sweeter than 
 cards; since in penning their candid pages he was 
 able to relive in memory, not only the frolics of 
 youth but the triumphs of manhood as well a joy 
 which only the veterans of the world's achievements 
 may attain. 
 
 This task, which occupied his morning hours, he 
 began at the age of seventy-seven, and continued 
 until he reached the eightieth year of his protracted 
 life. 16 So many excerpts from the pages of the 
 Memoirs have appeared in the present work that 
 the reader already knows with what delightful can- 
 dour their author details his adventures, both seemly 
 and unseemly. "I doubt if in the whole range of 
 autobiography one can find anything of a cheerfuller 
 sweetness," says Mr. Howells. 17 Surely no autobi- 
 ographer has made himself appear more lovable, 
 or written of his own age with more gentleness than 
 has this cheerfully observant Venetian. 
 
 In the first part of the Memoirs, he records 
 quaintly and blithely the events of his life from the 
 time of his birth until his advent in Venice as Mede- 
 bac's playwright. Here an age is vividly portrayed, 
 
 16 The King's "approbation" of the Memoirs is dated January 20, 
 1787, his "privilege" to publish them, April i3th of that year, facts 
 which indicate that the writing was finished prior to January ist. 
 
 17 Introductory essay to the abridgment of John Black's English trans- 
 lation of the Memoirs. 
 
CONCLUSION 577 
 
 albeit a petty age of finical culture, in which the 
 indolent ruling class expended its flaccid energies 
 in opera-bouffe wars and the trivial intrigues of 
 petty courts, or frittered its time away in ladies' bou- 
 doirs, while a submissive peasantry was mulcted by 
 its tax gatherers, or pillaged by its mercenaries. 
 The reader who lays the Memoirs aside at the end 
 of the first part will feel that he has seen a past age 
 brought to life again ; but the second part, in which 
 Goldoni's declared purpose is to give the history of 
 all his comedies, is made tediously dull at times by a 
 too elaborate analysis of their plots, and a too minute 
 detailing of the jealousies and cabals to which they 
 gave rise. The droll humour and ingenuous self- 
 satire which make the earlier pages, as Gibbon de- 
 clared, even more amusing to read than their author's 
 comedies, are singularly lacking in this second part; 
 and although Goldoni's bonhomie pervades the 
 third part, which tells the story of his life in France, 
 this too lacks the vagrant charm with which his 
 youthful adventures are described. Moreover, 
 there is considerable dulness here as well, many 
 chapters being devoted to such ephemeral marvels 
 as ballooning and mesmerism, or the chronicling of 
 state weddings and other festivities. 
 
 At the time when the Memoirs went to press, 
 Louis XVI was summoning the Notables of his 
 kingdom to assemble at Versailles. Nowhere in 
 their guileless pages is there any evidence to show 
 that their placid author knew that sedition was alive 
 
GOLDONI 
 
 in the land, even so momentous an incident as the 
 affair of the Queen's necklace being dismissed in a 
 gingerly manner as a matter of club gossip about 
 which the wits wrote couplets; "for if the French 
 lose a battle, an epigram consoles them," he declares, 
 "and if a new tax is imposed upon them, a vaude- 
 ville indemnifies them." Moreover, in speaking 
 of the fetes held in honour of Marie Antoinette at 
 the time of her marriage, Goldoni fails to mention 
 the catastrophe that resulted in the death of over a 
 hundred persons and the wounding of many times 
 that number, the display of the fireworks which 
 caused it being recorded by him as a thing of great 
 beauty, and Torre, the Italian who devised it, ac- 
 claimed as "an artificer who on this occasion carried 
 the pyrotechnic art to the highest degree of perfec- 
 tion." 
 
 Yet his apparent blindness to the unrest which was 
 undermining the obsolescent institutions of France 
 ill accords with his minute observations of life. 
 Surely, a man who, before the Contrat Social was 
 penned, had expressed by means of a character in 
 Pamela sentiments as radical as any voiced by Rous- 
 seau, could not have turned an entirely deaf ear to 
 the political views of the philosophers and poets who 
 were his boon companions. Indeed the silence he 
 displays in his memoirs regarding both French and 
 Italian politics is so peculiarly marked that it is 
 easier to suspect him of worldly wisdom than ob- 
 tuseness, especially when it is remembered that he 
 

 CONCLUSION 579 
 
 was a pensioner of both the King of France and the 
 Duke of Parma. Pertinent to this view, too, is the 
 fact that the publication of the Memoirs was made 
 possible by the liberal subscriptions of the French 
 royal family, as well as those of the many princes, 
 dukes, marquises, counts, and chevaliers whose 
 titled names adorn, in accordance with the custom 
 of the day, their prefatorial pages. 
 
 In recording the conclusion of the peace that gave 
 the American States their freedom, Goldoni wisely 
 observes that "the former subjects of Great Britain, 
 having become free and recognized by all the world, 
 may also become formidable." "Will they always 
 remember their good friends, the French?" he asks; 
 yet in framing this sagacious question he committed 
 no political indiscretion: hence, in view of the po- 
 litical wisdom he here displays, it does not seem 
 unjust to suspect that he preferred seeing the wrong 
 of the day in which he lived through "the little hole 
 of discretion," to risking the receipt of a lettre de 
 cachet, or even the loss of his pension by a polemical 
 use of his merry pen. 
 
 In regard to religion, his memoirs are equally 
 silent. His plays, too, are devoid of all reference 
 either to the Church or his own faith, the laws of 
 Venice being so restrictive in this respect that when, 
 in a comedy, he wished to immure a young lady in 
 a convent, he was obliged to resort to the circum- 
 locutory expedient of sending her to dwell with an 
 aunt in the country. When Chiari, in his School 
 
580 GOLDONI 
 
 for Widows, applied to an Englishman the word 
 Panimbruo, which was used in Venice aspersively 
 of Protestants, Goldoni to his own profit be it said 
 pointed out to the Venetian authorities the politi- 
 cal indiscretion of permitting stage insults to Protes- 
 tants ; yet there is nothing in this incident to indicate 
 his religious convictions. That he took a liberal, as 
 well as a passive, view of religion, is made clear, 
 however, by this extract from a letter to his friend 
 Albergati : 18 
 
 I do not disapprove of devotion, though I have not yet had 
 the grace to possess it. I don't know whether I ought to wish 
 that one whom I esteem and love should attain it; yet I am cer- 
 tain that even if you do not become devout, you will love as you 
 have always loved. 
 
 Being born a bourgeois, traditionally he was a 
 believer in the sacredness of vested rights; and being 
 a lawyer by profession, he had been educated both 
 to revere custom and act prudently; hence to accuse 
 him of having kept a discreet silence in matters po- 
 litical and religious is merely to acknowledge the 
 formative powers of both inheritance and educa- 
 tion. It is well to remember, too, in this connection, 
 that tyrannical laws prevented him not only from 
 satirizing the Church, but the State and its ruling 
 class as well. Whenever he placed a nobleman 
 upon his stage he chose a Milanese or a Neapolitan 
 count never a Venetian patrician; yet in spite of 
 the care with which he avoided political indiscretion, 
 
 18 Oct. 8, 1765. 
 
CONCLUSION 581 
 
 he was denounced to the Venetian authorities by an 
 enemy named Zigo for having presaged national 
 misfortunes; while Carlo Gozzi confesses that, with 
 the hope of ruining him, he called the attention of 
 the Government to Goldoni's "exceedingly liberal , 
 and democratic tendencies." When it is remem- 
 bered that he lived under a tyrannical government 
 both in Venice and in France and that he was 
 avowedly peaceful, it becomes possible to see in 
 this placid Venetian a man of far more radical 
 convictions than his writings make him appear. As 
 Luigi Falchi points out, 19 the liberal opinions that 
 are expressed repeatedly in his plays indicate that 
 they were also in his heart and mind. Had he been 
 given a greater licence in expression, "with what sat- 
 isfaction," says this Italian commentator, "might he 
 not have placed Roman prelates and Venetian pa- 
 tricians upon the stage!" 
 
 The product of bourgeois birth and precise edu- 
 cation, Goldoni, though a Bohemian by nature, and 
 perhaps both a radical and free-thinker at heart, 
 took too sanely happy a view of life ever to become 
 a knight-errant. The art of comedy calls, however, 
 for no girding of the loins; therefore the world 
 should have no quarrel with him because his peace- 
 able heart prevented him from becoming either a 
 crusader or a fire-brand. No doubt, as he declares, 
 "truth was his favourite virtue," yet discretion was 
 decidedly the better part of his valour, a fact he 
 
 19 Op. cit. 
 
582 GOLDONI 
 
 makes apparent in saying: "I am of a pacific dis- 
 position, and I have always preserved my coolness 
 of character." 
 
 When the Memoirs were published in 1787, six 
 spectacled years still remained to him; though his 
 keen enjoyment of life continued until his merry 
 soul was freed by death. "At my age I read little, 
 and I read only amusing books," he exclaimed, at 
 this time; yet his passion for writing continued until 
 his wizened hand could no longer grasp a pen. Be- 
 fore the Memoirs appeared, he had, in collaboration 
 with a young American of French origin, projected 
 a literary journal in which France and Italy were to 
 be brought into closer intellectual relations, but his 
 co-editor fell in love with an Italian actress whom 
 he married when her first lord died, and, as the 
 capricious lady refused to live in Paris, "the journal 
 ended," so Goldoni states, "before it began" ; luckily, 
 it would appear, since he declared on another occa- 
 sion that "for all the gold in the world, he would 
 not work on a newspaper." 
 
 Work evidently had no terror for him, however, 
 and politics no charm, else he could not, during the 
 stirring winter that preceded the fall of the Bastille, 
 have calmly translated The Beneficent Bear into 
 Italian, in order that the proceeds of its publication 
 might relieve a friend's distress. Friendship, as 
 warm in his octogenarian heart as love had been dur- 
 ing his frolicsome youth, was the inspiration, too, of 
 the translation he finished barely two years before 
 
CONCLUSION 583 
 
 his death, of Miss Jenny, a novel by his friend Ma- 
 dame Riccoboni. Although he was in far from 
 easy circumstances at the time, this translation, too, 
 was made for the purpose of assisting an impover- 
 ished friend, in this instance an old Italian who like 
 himself had given lessons in the mother-tongue. 
 Apparently the feather of the pen he used in his old 
 age had dropped, to paraphrase Wordsworth, from 
 an angel of charity's wing. 
 
 Alfieri visited him while he was penning the last 
 pages of the Memoirs; but this turbulent poet, so 
 antipathetic by nature, had too slight a regard for 
 comedy to allow Goldoni to see in him more than a 
 notable man of letters. Moratin, too, paid him a 
 visit in 1787, and heard him discourse upon the 
 drama, as well as upon the ingratitude of a country 
 which "obliged him to live far from home supported 
 by a pension"; yet neither this Spanish colleague in 
 the art of comedy nor Alfieri should be numbered 
 among the friends whom he loved "truly and con- 
 stantly" and whose loyalty brightened his declining 
 years. Though Cochin the artist drew his portrait 
 to adorn the Memoirs, and one Caccia, an Italian 
 banker resident in Paris, sent to Italy for a book to 
 cheer him during an illness, the truest friends of his 
 old age were De la Place the journalist, and Favart 
 the great librettist, both of whom had been his boon 
 companions in the days of Dominical jollity. 
 
 In 1790, when Favart was in his eightieth year, 
 and Goldoni and De la Place each in his eighty-third, 
 
584 GOLDONI 
 
 a certain Abbe Cosson toasted in verse the friend- 
 ship of these three old cronies then limping toward 
 the grave. In November of the following year, 
 while savage sentries were pacing before the prison 
 of an execrated King, Goldoni dined with Favart, 
 and in artistic reminiscence and companionship 
 forgot, it is to be hoped, his woes, as well as those of 
 France. Surely a more friendly tribute was never 
 paid by one man of letters to another than is to be 
 found in the following verses, with which the father 
 of opera bouffe, unmindful of the anarchy that 
 reigned in the land, invited Goldoni to dine: 
 
 To thee, fair Italy's Moliere; 
 Thalia's foster child and heir! 
 Goldoni, dear to heart and mind, 
 Whose talent and good taste combined 
 To quicken charm in thine own land 
 And rescue from the vandal's hand 
 The tarnished honour of her stage! . 
 My heart, in reverence thy thrall, 
 To-day addresses thee its call: 
 Friday (to-morrow) come to me 
 At noon: let naught prevent, prithee. 
 
 Within six months after these two old soldiers of 
 the pen made merry together, Favart died; less than 
 a year later Goldoni followed him through death's 
 narrow gate, his revenues, like Favart's, having been 
 swept away by Revolutionary events. In July, 1792, 
 the King's civil list was suspended, and with it our 
 court Italian teacher's pension, a petitionary demand 
 that an exception be made in his case being denied. 
 
CONCLUSION 585 
 
 A few months before this unlucky event happened 
 Goldoni received from the Comedie Frangaise 
 twelve hundred francs in final payment for the per- 
 petual rights of The Beneficent Bear a sum that 
 in all likelihood was his only resource during the 
 last year of his life. 20 
 
 After his pension was revoked he felt the pinch 
 of poverty, and, in all probability, suffered ill health. 
 For several years he had been the victim of "palpi- 
 tations" which attacked him "during all seasons and 
 at all hours," and which he learned to endure so 
 stoically that even when seized at dinner, or the card- 
 table, "no one suspected that he was suffering intense 
 pain." That these palpitations were the eventual 
 cause of his death is possible, although by no means 
 certain, the events of his life subsequent to the publi- 
 cations of his memoirs being largely conjectural. 
 On March 26, 1791, he wrote to an acquaintance 21 
 that although he had purged himself on the previous 
 day he was unable to go out as he had hoped be- 
 cause the wind prevented him, and he felt that he 
 had not yet recovered from an illness. In Novem- 
 ber of that year, he received Favart's panegyric invi- 
 tation, and during the following August (1792) he 
 dined at an embassy (probably the Venetian) where 
 he met Count Giuseppe Gorani, a literary adven- 
 
 20 On February i, 1792, he petitioned the Societaires of this theatre te 
 give his nephew a pass to its performances, a privilege which was 
 granted on Feb. 6th, to be in force as long as Le Bourru bienfaisant 
 remained in the repertory. 
 
 21 Letter to the Signer Segretario N. N., March 26, 1791. 
 
586 GOLDONI 
 
 turer who had assisted at Milan in the publication of 
 Verri's periodical, // Gaffe. A few days later Gol- 
 doni fell ill, and probably never regained sufficient 
 health to sit again at the board of a friend, or to 
 take his accustomed walks. In a letter written at 
 this time he declares that the only things of value 
 that remained to him were "a stout stomach and a 
 tender heart." 22 Fully a year before he had 
 ordered from Madame Fontain, 23 eight pounds of 
 chocolate and three pounds of comfits, but now want 
 had come as an armed man to prevent him from re- 
 galing his stout stomach with its favourite luxuries ; 
 and as Favart was dead, and convivial De la Place in 
 the shadow of the grave, only good Nicoletta and 
 the nephew whom he "loved and esteemed as if he 
 were his own child" were left to solace that tender 
 heart. 
 
 On the sixth of February, 1793, eighteen days 
 after Louis XVI had mounted the scaffold, Goldoni 
 died in the rue pavee Saint-Sauveur, 24 and on the 
 following day Marie-Joseph de Chenier unaware, as 
 has been seen in the preceding chapter, of his death, 
 arose in the National Convention to move that his 
 pension be restored. Three days later, on the mo- 
 tion of this 'same poet-deputy, Goldoni's widow was 
 granted an annuity of fifteen hundred livres, while 
 
 22 Letter to Masi et Cie., Sept. 3, 1792. 
 
 23 Letter, May n, 1791. 
 
 24 The certificate of his death, witnessed Feb. 19, 1793, by his nephew, 
 a friend named Laprime, and a public official, sheds no light upon the 
 cause. 
 
CONCLUSION 587 
 
 on February i7th, Etienne Claviere, who held the 
 financial portfolio in the so-called "Patriotic Minis- 
 try," petitioned the actors of the Comedie Frangaise, 
 or, as it was then styled, the Theatre de la Nation 
 to give a performance of The Beneficent Bear for 
 the benefit of Goldoni's family, a request granted on 
 June loth. A week later the performance took 
 place, the goodly sum of eighteen hundred and fifty- 
 nine livres and fifteen sous being realized, the receipt 
 of which was duly acknowledged by the dead drama- 
 tist's nephew. 25 
 
 When it is remembered that the man whose family 
 was so liberally recompensed at a time so anarchical 
 was a foreigner long attached to the royal household, 
 who had not written for the Parisian stage for over 
 fifteen years, the consideration paid his memory by 
 these regicides appears so astounding as to beggar 
 any explanation other than Chenier's assertion that 
 he had blessed Heaven for being able to die "a 
 Frenchman and a Republican." Although Gol- 
 doni's monarchical fellow-countrymen regard this as 
 an unproved aspersion upon his equable character, 
 Claviere fully corroborates Chenier's statement in 
 the petition he addressed to the actors of the national 
 theatre. "Goldoni belonged so thoroughly to the 
 Revolution," says this ill-fated Girondist, "that his 
 greatest anguish was to be obliged by his ills, his old 
 age, and the needs of his wife, to beg for the restor- 
 
 25 The documents regarding these events have been published by 
 Charles Rabany (op. cit.). 
 
5 88 GOLDONI 
 
 ation of a pension he had received from Louis XVI." 
 "I have heard him," Claviere continues, "warmly 
 express the regret that he was unable to throw its 
 patent into the fire that had consumed the attributes 
 of royalty." 
 
 Is it reasonable to suppose that at a time when 
 Robespierre was harrying the Girondists, and France 
 was at war with Europe, Chenier would have dared 
 to state openly in a meeting of the Convention that 
 Goldoni was a Republican, unless he knew this to be 
 a recognized fact? Moreover, a pension of fifteen 
 hundred livres was voted unanimously by the seven 
 hundred or more hot-headed deputies composing the 
 Convention to the widow of this foreigner, who had 
 held a royal sinecure and whose literary activities 
 had long since ceased to attract public attention, not 
 one of them gainsaying either the justice of this 
 extraordinary proceeding, or the republicanism of 
 the man whose memory they signally honoured. 
 
 Although Goldoni's republicanism, despite the 
 monarchical obsequiousness of his memoirs, becomes 
 from these facts a likely supposition, to conclude 
 that he was converted to this political faith at the 
 eleventh hour, either through fear or because he had 
 ceased to profit by royal preferment, is unjust to his 
 truthful character. That his republicanism was a 
 conviction his peaceable nature prevented him from 
 expressing strongly until free speech obtained, may 
 be inferred with considerable verisimilitude from 
 the fact that forty years before the fall of the Bastille, 
 
CONCLUSION 589 
 
 he had had the temerity to pen these prophetic 
 words, the radical sentiments of which might well 
 have caused him to be lodged in a Venetian jail : 
 
 I have often heard it said that the world would be more beau- 
 tiful if it had not been spoiled by men who for the sake of pride 
 have upset the beautiful order of nature. That common mother 
 regards us all as equal ; though the arrogance of the great does not 
 deign to consider the small. The day will come when one pud- 
 ding will again be made of both great and small. 26 
 
 Eighty-four years after this kindly Venetian's 
 death, two reverent fellow-countrymen placed upon 
 a house in the squalid rue Saint-Sauveur, this inscrip- 
 tion: 
 
 Here died poor on February 6th, 1793, 
 Charles Goldoni, called the Italian 
 Moliere, author of The Beneficent Bear, 
 Born in Venice in the year 
 
 It is unfortunate that this grandiloquent misnomer, 
 "The Moliere of Italy" should, in glaring injustice 
 both to his modesty and his originality, have been 
 inscribed upon the house in which he died. Al- 
 though it is true, as Symonds asserts, that not one of 
 his plays bears the stamp of supreme mastery, it is 
 equally true that Goldoni belongs among the eight 
 or ten immortal painters of human foibles. 28 To his 
 
 29 Pamela nubile, Act III, scene 3. 
 
 27 The inscription was placed in the rue Saint-Sauveur in 1877 by 
 Senator Costantini and Chevalier Toffoli. Raffaello Barbiera, writing 
 in a memorial pamphlet published by the Societa Editrice Teatrale 
 (Feb. 1907) on the occasion of the second centenary of Goldoni's birth, 
 distrusts this identification of the house in which he died. 
 
 28 Raffaello Giovagnoli: Goldoni a fronte di Moliere in Carlo Gol- 
 doni per cura del comitato, Venice, Dec. 30, 1883. 
 
59 o GOLDONI 
 
 impassioned detractors he is merely a nimble crafts- 
 man; to his unthinking partisans he is the Italian 
 Moliere; yet his name spells Italian comedy, and 
 in the drama of the world his place is unique, no 
 dramatist having painted with equal fidelity to na- 
 ture the life of a people and an age. Moreover, no 
 moralist of the stage has preached seemliness and 
 virtue in a kindlier tone or employed satire in so 
 impersonal a way. Had his exacting managers per- 
 mitted him to write his plays with care, and polish 
 them with tenderness, he might possibly have be- 
 come, as Cesarotti suggests, the greatest comic 
 dramatist of the world; yet while speculating upon 
 the innate possibilities of his genius, it should be 
 borne in mind that he lacked Moliere's wisdom, as 
 well as his unyielding enmity to sham. 
 
 Goldoni loved the common people, however, and 
 instead of treating them as clowns, he made them 
 likable and consistent human beings. In* this respect 
 he is superior to Moliere, for while, as our Venetian 
 himself says, he "looked everywhere for nature," the 
 Frenchman's search was confined to the nobility and 
 the bourgeoisie, or their rascally servants. No such 
 cultivated student of Epicurus and Lucretius as 
 Moliere, no such independent thinker, either, Gol- 
 doni possessed an unerring observation for the things 
 at hand; yet he was too short of sight to penetrate 
 the whole atmosphere enveloping the life he painted, 
 therefore he failed to see its relation to the past, to 
 the future, or even to the times in which he lived. 
 
CONCLUSION 591 
 
 As inimitable genre pictures of bits of humorous life, 
 The Boors and The Chioggian Brawls are master- 
 pieces ; yet while we may laugh at them till tears fill 
 our eyes, and extol at the same time their absolute 
 fidelity to nature, they will never make us ponder. 
 Goldoni saw clearly and plainly everything about 
 him, but he did not study the origin of the things 
 he saw, nor deliberate upon their relation to each 
 other and to the future; therefore, though a great 
 artist, he was not, like Moliere, a great philosopher 
 as well. Understanding him as thoroughly as he 
 understands his age, Philippe Monnier 29 thus por- 
 trays both the charm and the limitations of this com- 
 manding figure of eighteenth-century Venice: 
 
 No one ever invented more situations, devised more incidents, 
 wove more plots, blended more episodes, seized upon more laugh- 
 able characteristics, strung together more parts, staged more char- 
 acters, concocted more mirth, or scattered and squandered greater 
 riches with a more unconcerned heart. The laughter which escapes 
 from this topsy-turvy jumble is a frank, youthful, and serene laugh- 
 ter, free from all constraint, unburdened by philosophy, unspoiled 
 by cynicism. It gushes forth into the sunlight, the joyful outburst 
 of a merry heart. 
 
 Gran Goldoni! once shouted the enthusiastic crowd on carnival 
 evenings dead and gone. Yes, Great Goldoni, who soothes and 
 simplifies, direct as a force of nature, elemental as a creature of 
 the Golden Age! Great Goldoni, open-hearted and genially ac- 
 cordant, abounding in good humour and good will, as limpid as 
 water from a spring, as clear as a crystal! Great Goldoni, who 
 knew how to interpret himself, to control himself, to disseminate 
 himself! And again, Great Goldoni, who, when abused, ridiculed, 
 and misjudged, triumphed over difficulties with his smile, and 
 
 29 Op. cit. 
 
592 GOLDONI 
 
 avenged insults by forgiving; who continues to present mankind, 
 whether wicked, miserable, or sorrowful, with a benign example of 
 
 joy. 
 
 Here he is not patriotically exalted, as many 
 Italians have exalted him, nor chauvinistically belit- 
 tled, as a few Frenchmen have belittled him, but 
 justly given his true place as a naturalist who 
 "soothes and simplifies" our lives and whose humour 
 is the "joyful outburst of a merry heart." Nor is he 
 deified as "the Italian Moliere" an epithet beneath 
 the crushing weight of which he has all but perished. 
 In Venice he is still Gran Goldoni, beloved of her 
 people, 30 while throughout Italy his name is a house- 
 hold word. " 
 
 Truthful painter of the manners of an age, re- 
 former of the Italian stage, Goldoni, the literary 
 glory of the Venetian Republic, is still the greatest of 
 Italy's stage-craftsmen. His best comedies being 
 written in dialect, his reputation suffers abroad, the 
 Venetian speech with its elided forms and words of 
 Spanish and Oriental origin being puzzling even to 
 an Italian not of Venetian birth. A score or more 
 of his comedies have been translated into English 
 and French, yet there is not in either of these lan- 
 guages a'single published translation of any of those 
 Venetian plays that "do him the greatest honour," 
 
 30 While the author was in Venice he employed the telephone operator 
 at his hotel to transcribe some passages from a book he had borrowed. 
 Knowing it was to be used for a life of Goldoni in English, she refused 
 to take any remuneration for her work, saying that she wished to do 
 her share in making " dear Papa Goldoni " known abroad. 
 
CONCLUSION 593 
 
 while only a few of his Tuscan comedies and these 
 not always the best may be enjoyed by readers 
 unfamiliar with Italian. Moreover, he wrote far 
 too many plays for his reputation to receive its 
 deserts; the most extensive edition of his works con- 
 sisting of fifty volumes, a number to appal any but 
 the ardent student. 
 
 No such philosopher as Moliere, and no such 
 finished poet, he painted the Venetian life about him 
 in the colours of truth. Because they are not suf- 
 ficiently elevated "above the range of every-day life," 
 as Schlegel, who thus seeks to belittle him, declares, 
 his characters are not of heroic stature ; yet when his 
 world is restricted to his native Venice, his interpre- 
 tations of life are unexcelled in naturalistic charm. 
 Whenever he wanders from Venice his work becomes ; 
 mediocre, and even negligible. The city of the la- 
 goons was his true milieu, and there, while mingling 
 with the garrulous carnival throng, he collected his 
 characters and his witticisms from reality, his artist's 
 soul becoming, in the words of a fervent admirer, 
 "the soul of a people." 
 
 Although he lived in a dissolute age, the heart of 
 this great Venetian was untainted. In his comedies, 
 fathers are taught kindness and sons respect; wives 
 are told to love their husbands and their children; 
 husbands, to be agreeable and well behaved; more- 
 
 I i 
 
 over, vice is punished and virtue rewarded in a way 
 now deemed old-fashioned, yet none the less whole- 
 some. To the fleetness of his observation is due the 
 

 594 GOLDONI 
 
 teeming product of his fancy. He did not meditate 
 himself, therefore he does not make us meditate; 
 yet his characters are vivid portrayals, and his com- 
 edies of Venetian life minute and comprehensive pic- 
 tures of the society of an epoch. "Lovable painter of 
 nature," as Voltaire affectionately called him, this 
 faithful portrayer of a bygone age remains the most 
 wholesome example of good humour in the realm of 
 comedy. 
 
APPENDICES 
 
 prepared by 
 F. C. L. VAN STEENDEREN, PH.D. 
 
 Professor of Romance Languages 
 
 in 
 Lake Forest College 
 
PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 Ernesto Masi (Scelta dl commedie dl Carlo Goldoni, Preface) says: 
 " To classify the vast mass of Goldoni's dramatic works is very difficult. 
 Writers and editors have tried it many times, and there is not one of 
 these attempts that does not give rise to criticism both justifiable and 
 justified." Philippe Monnier (Venise au XVIIIe siecle, p. 236) ex- 
 presses the same idea thus: "It would be amusing to enumerate all the 
 attempts at classification that have been made of Goldoni's comedies. 
 Not one is satisfactory, because none is possible. You cannot emprison 
 life in molds." 
 
 If a chronological classification is nevertheless offered here, it is be- 
 cause Goldonian scholarship has in recent years made such progress as 
 to warrant another attempt, and because without it a systematic study 
 of Goldoni's work is impossible. To assert absolute completeness for 
 Appendix A in the face of the expressed opinion of the authorities just 
 quoted, would merely prejudice the work in the minds of scholars; 
 yet it is fair to state that no pains have been spared to make it com- 
 plete and correct, the editions of Pasquali, Zatta, Prato, Girolamo 
 Tasso, and the Municipality of Venice (as far as published), the Li- 
 brary of the British Museum, the principal libraries of Paris, and the 
 writings of those who have worked on the subject, having been dili- 
 gently searched for the purpose. Moreover, Mr. Chatfield-Taylor, in 
 1910, brought considerable data from Italy. 
 
 A classification according to genres is a different matter: that is 
 neither so necessary, nor so feasible. A play like La Dama prudente, 
 for instance, is as much a comedy of character as of manners, while 
 in La Locandiera the elements of manners, character, and intrigue are 
 so ingeniously mixed, that an attempt to disentangle them would be fu- 
 tile. Moreover, types such as the Miser or the Cavaliere servente, 
 which Moliere would present as Generalized Truth, Goldoni individu- 
 alizes as does Nature herself: by mingling the traits of one type with 
 those of other types in the same human being, as in 77 Geloso avaro; or 
 by spreading the characteristics of a single type among three or four 
 individuals, as in / Rustcghi. 
 
 While no classification of the comedies in the categories of manners, 
 character, intrigue, bourgeois, lachrymose, etc., has been offered, it has 
 been deemed desirable and practicable to embody, together with the 
 researches of Mr. Chatfield-Taylor and myself, those of Messieurs 
 Rabany, Dejob, Maddalena, Ortolani, Musatti, Neri, Toldo, Caprin, 
 Malamani, De Gubernatis, and others, in the matter of important re- 
 semblances among the plays, thus grouping and indicating by number, 
 plays dealing with cicisbeism, villeggiatura; intriguing, pert, or up- 
 right women ; physicians, lawyers, merchants, misers, etc. These groups 
 have been placed under the head of sources, because, as in the case of 
 Mirandolina in La Locandiera or of Geronte in Le Bourru bienfaisant, 
 the finished form of a character, as Goldoni says, often " vien da Ionian 
 sentiero"-, ard because, as in the Villeggiatura series, the dramatist 
 attacks a social foible from different angles and with increasing effi- 
 
 597 
 
598 
 
 PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 ciency; thus making one play in certain respects the source of another. 
 
 In regard to the sources that lie outside of Goldoni and his plays, 
 the edition of the Municipality of Venice, when completed, may clarify 
 and amplify a number of points. At present, however, conclusions 
 concerning the sources of many of Goldoni's plays remain open for 
 argument. Nor does it seem that the study of this subject has pro- 
 gressed to that degree of finality in which mere resemblances are 
 rigorously separated from the sources which Goldoni actually used. 
 For these reasons, as well as for the purpose of saving space, the 
 authorities for the sources as given have as a rule not been indicated, 
 although they may all be found in the Bibliography (Appendix C). 
 
 The authorities for the dates of the premieres of the plays have, 
 however, been given in every case, and the mention of first editions 
 has been added as a convenient check upon their accuracy. It is prob- 
 ably not superfluous to point out that Goldoni says (Mem. II, p. 87^ : 
 " J'avertis le lecteur, a cette occasion, de ne pas s'en rapporter aux 
 dates de mes ouvrages imprimes, car elles sont presque toutes fautives," 
 and that this warning unfortunately applies with equal force to his 
 chronological statements in the Memoirs. The terms of the various 
 contracts with Medebac and the Vendramins have been used to de- 
 termine the number of plays to be expected at the end of each year 
 or period during which a contract was in force, and the printing clause 
 in the contracts with the Vendramins, together with Goldoni's cor- 
 respondence, has corrected many a date as found in the Memoirs or the 
 editions of Goldoni's plays. 
 
 In order to give a clear conception of the dramatist's activity for 
 each year, and to avoid the subtle and debatable categories which 
 would have to be made for plays like La Sposa persiana, II Terenzio, 
 Don Giovanni Tenorio, etc., Goldoni's theatrical works have been cata- 
 logued according to their presentation on the dramatic stage (A, i), 
 or the operatic stage (A, 2). A large majority of the plays in A, i 
 being comedies, when a play is not differently designated, it is a 
 comedy; and unless otherwise indicated, the comedies are in Tuscan 
 prose, and have three acts, while the tragedies and tragi-comedies are 
 in verse, and have five acts. Whenever the term " Ven." is used after 
 a title, the play is either entirely or mainly in Venetian dialect. In 
 many other comedies, however, which are essentially in the Tuscan 
 idiom, the mask characters which appear speak dialect. In order to 
 show the influence of the Commedia dell' arte over Goldoni's work, the 
 number of mask characters in a play is indicated. 
 
 For a more detailed treatment of the plays for music (A, 2), the 
 two brochures on the subject by Dr. Cesare Musatti, to whom my list 
 is heavily indebted, should be consulted. The surprisingly vast number 
 of translations from Goldoni's plays has been considered only in re- 
 gard to those in English; for the translations in general Professor 
 Maddalena's work in the Note storiche of the edition of the Munici- 
 pality of Venice, his Fortuna delta " Locandiera" and Le Traduzioni 
 del " Ventaglio," are indispensable. 
 
 In conclusion I wish most cordially to express my indebtedness to Mr. 
 Chatfield-Taylor. Not only has he collected the books and ^documents 
 which I have used, but he has with untiring helpfulness given me a 
 number of valuable suggestions. 
 
 F. C. L. v. S. 
 Lake Forest College. 
 
ABBREVIATIONS 
 
 Goldoni's plays in this catalogue are indicated and referred to by 
 means of Arabic numerals. Titles listed in italics indicate plays writ- 
 ten for amateurs. All titles have been quoted verbatim et literatim. 
 An Arabic numeral after the number of an act of a play indicates the 
 scene referred to. When throughout the catalogue only one work of 
 any author is quoted, his name is used to indicate it, the title appearing 
 in this list of abbreviations, as well as in the Bibliography. 
 
 Aut. * Autumn season, beginning first week of Oct., and 
 
 ending Dec. 15. 
 
 Bartoli = Scenari inediti della commedia dell' arte. 
 
 B e tt t = Bettinelli's edition of Gold.'s works (See Bibliog- 
 
 raphy). 
 
 Cam. =z= Carnival season, beginning Dec. 26, and ending 
 
 Shrove Tuesday of year following. 
 
 Chap. = Chapter. 
 
 Delia Torre = Saggio di una bibliografia delle opere intorno a 
 Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 Desboulmiers ~ Histoire anecdotique et raisonnee du theatre italien. 
 
 Ed. Edition, or edited. 
 
 Gold. = Goldoni. 
 
 Grimm == Correspondance litteraire, philosophique et critique 
 
 adressee a un souverain d'Allemagne par le Baron 
 de Grimm et par Diderot. 
 
 It, = Italian. 
 
 Mantovani = Carlo Goldoni e il teatro di San Luca a Venezia. 
 Carteggio inedito. 
 
 Mart. Martellian verse. 
 
 Mem. I or II == Memorie di Carlo Goldoni riprodotte integralmentg 
 dalla edizione originale francese. Con prefazione 
 e note di Guido Mazzoni. 
 
 Mun. of Ven. Opere complete di Carlo Goldoni edite dal Municipio 
 di Venezia nel II centenario dalla nascita. 
 
 p a p =: Paperini's edition of Gold.'s works (See Bibliog- 
 
 raphy). 
 
 p asq% = Pasquali's edition of Gold.'s works (See Bibli- 
 
 ography). 
 
 p er j. = Performance, or performed. 
 
 Pill' = Pitteri's edition of Gold.'s works (See Bibliography). 
 
 Rabanv == Carlo Goldoni. Le Theatre et la vie en Italie au 
 
 XVIUe siecle. 
 
 Sav. = Savioli's edition of Gold.'s works (See Bibliogra- 
 
 phy). 
 
 Summ. = Summer season on the mainland, when Venetian 
 
 theatres were closed. 
 Transl. = Translation, or translated. 
 
 Ven. = In Venetian dialect. 
 
 599 
 
APPENDIX A 
 
 CATALOGUE OF GOLDONI'S WORKS 
 
 i. IMPROVISED COMEDIES, COMEDIES, TRAGEDIES, 
 AND TRAGI-COMEDIES. 
 
 1718. i. FIRST COMEDY. No title. Lost. Written probably at 
 age of eleven (Pasq., vols. I & II, prefaces; Mazzoni, Mem. I, 
 note to p. 30; Delia Torre, p. 33). 
 
 1725. 2. IL COLOSSO. Atellane, or satire in dialogue. Lost. 
 (Pasq., vol. VIII, preface). 
 
 For Inter, San Samuele Theatre, Venice. 
 
 1734- 3. BELISARIO (Bellisario}. Tragi-comedy. Nov. 24 (Mem. 
 I, p. 204; Pasq., vol. XI, p. 13; Von Lohner, Mem., p. 227, note). 
 First ed. 1738, Pisarri (Spinelli, Bibl. gold., p. 167). First author- 
 ized ed. 1793, vol. XXXII, Zatta. 
 
 Source: Belisario, tragedy perf. 1733 by Vitali troupe, Milan. 
 
 1735- 4. ROSMONDA. Tragedy. Jan. 17 (Mem. I, p. 206; Pasq., 
 vol. XIII, p. 9). First ed. 1793, vol. XXXIII, Zatta. 
 
 Sources: Muti, La Rosimonda (Mazzoni, Mem. I, p. 413). 
 Giovanni Rucellai (1475-1525), Rosmunda. The Longobard leg- 
 end of Alboino's death. 
 
 5. L'ACCADEMIA LETTERAR^A and a one-act improvised 
 comedy, the title of which is unknown. Lost. An Introduzione 
 to Aut., preceding Gold.'s interlude La Fondazione di Fenezia 
 (Pasq., vol. XIV, pp. 4 & 6). 
 
 6. GRISELDA. Tragi-comedy, 3 acts. Written at Padua, 
 spring; perhaps perf. at Udine, summ. ; Aut. (Mem. I, pp. 211 & 
 218; Pasq., vol. XIV, p. 2; Von Lohner, Mem., p. 290, note). 
 First ed. 1777, vol. XI, Guibert and Orgeas, Turin. 
 
 Sources: Apostolo Zeno, and Pietro Pariati (1665-1733), 
 Griselda. Boccaccio, // Decamerone, Giorn. X, Novella 10. 
 1736. 7. DON GIOVANNI TENORIO o sia IL DISSOLUTO (// 
 Convitato nuovo). Blank verse, 5 acts. Carn. till end, Feb. 14 
 (Von Lohner, Mem., p. 303). First ed. (pirated) 1754, Bologna 
 (Spinelli, Bibl. gold., p. 27; Mem. I, p. 223). Probably rewritten 
 for the Pap. and later editions. 
 
 Sources : Lope de Vega, El Dinero es quien hace hombre. Tirso 
 de Molina, El Burlador de Sevilla. Gold, acquainted with It. 
 601 
 
602 APPENDICES 
 
 transl. by Onofrio Giliberto (1652) and Giacinto Andrea Cicog- 
 nini (1691) under title of // Convitato di pietra. Moliere, Don 
 Juan, ou le Festin de pierre, and Thomas Corneille's verse render- 
 ing of it. To portray Gold.'s love affair with Passalacqua, she is 
 represented by Elisa, Vitalba by Don Giovanni, and the author by 
 Carino (Pasq., vol. XIV, p. 8., Mem. I, p. 216). 
 
 8. RINALDO DI MONTALBANO (Rinaldo nuovo). Tragi- 
 comedy. Aut. (Pasq., vol. XV, p. 3 ; Von Lohner, Mem., p. 290, 
 note). First ed. 1774, vol. XIII, Sav. 
 
 Source: La Poverta di Rinaldo, improvised comedy (Pasq., 
 vol. XV, p. 4). Bartoli, p. xlv, gives title of scenario, Rinaldo da 
 Montalbano, perf. Paris, April 6, 1717. 
 
 I737- 9. ENRICO RE DI SICILIA (Enrico; Enrico 111 di Sicilia}. 
 Tragedy. Cam. (Von Lohner, Mem., p. 315, note), and possibly 
 Dec. 26, 1736 (Mem. I, p. 229). First ed. (separate) 1740, Bett. 
 
 Source: Le Sage, Histoire de Gil Bias, Book IV, Chap. 4: Le 
 Manage de vengeance. 
 
 1738. 10. L'UOMO DI MONDO (Momolo cortesan; El Cortesan 
 venezian}. Ven., 3 masks. An improvised comedy at first, save 
 for one role. No certainty for date: Cam., Dec. 26, 1738-Feb. 10, 
 1739, authority being Mem. I, p. 232 and Pasq., vol. XV, preface. 
 First ed. 1757, vol. X, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Paroncin, an improvised comedy. Boisrobert, La 
 Belle plaideuse. Moliere, L'Avare. 
 
 1739. ii. IL PRODIGO (Momolo sulla Brenta}. 3 masks (Momolo 
 speaks Ven.). Aut. (Pasq., vol. XVI, p. 3, where Gold, says: 
 
 " Veggendo la buona riuscita del Momolo dell' anno passatc . . . 
 ho pensato di fare un altro Momolo ancor quest' anno per il 
 medesimo Golinetti, ed ho intitolato la nuova Commedia: 
 Momolo sulla Brenta o sia II Prodigo."). 
 
 First ed. 1757, vol. X, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Guidobaldo Benamati, // Prodigo ricreduto (1652). 
 A scenario, Lelio prodigo, attributed to G. B. Boccabadati (1634- 
 96). Giorgio Giulini, // Prodigo (1745). Voltaire, L'Enfant 
 prodigue. Von Lohner (Mem., p. 327) thinks the original for the 
 Prodigo is Michele Grimani, proprietor of the San Samuele 
 theatre. Number n is first comedy dealing with Villeggiatura. 
 
 1740. 12. LE TRENTADUE DISGRAZIE D'ARLECCHINO. Im- 
 provised comedy written for Sacchi. Began Aut. (Mem. I, p. 
 237; Pasq., vol. XV, preface). Not printed, but seems to have be- 
 come common stage property: 
 
 Bartoli, p. xlvii, mentions Le Trentadue disgrazie di Truf- 
 faldino, which is perhaps the same play ; and ibid., p. xlvi, Le 
 Ventisei disgrazie d'Arlecchino, perf. Paris, Sept. 3, 1751. 
 
 Source: G. B. Delia Porta (i53O~ l6l 3) La Sorella. 
 
 13. CENTO E QUATTRO ACCIDENTI IN UNA NOTTE 
 (La Notte critica). Improvised comedy. Aut., 2 weeks after la 
 
APPENDICES 603 
 
 (Mem. I, p. 238). Bartoli, p. xlviii, mentions / Cento e quattro ac- 
 cidenti succedutl nella notte istessa. Not printed. 
 
 1741. 14. LA BANCA ROTTA o sia IL MERCANTE FALLITO 
 (La Bancarotta). 4 masks. Cam., after Gold, had gained some 
 experience as Consul for Genoa (Mem. I, p. 240; Pasq., vol. XVI, 
 p. 5). Ran till Febr. 14. First ed. 1757, vol. X, Pap. 
 Source: // Mercante jallito, an improvised comedy. 
 
 1743. 15. LA DONNA DI GARBO. 2 masks. Aut. (Pasq., vol. 
 XVII, p. 4, where Gold, says: 
 
 He wrote it for the servetta Baccherini, gave it to the com- 
 pany during earn., 1743, jealousy against La Baccherini prevent- 
 ing its performance at that time. She died in May, and her rival, 
 La Bastona, possessed herself of the coveted role. 
 
 The first comedy Gold, printed: 1747, Bergamo (Pasq., vol. 
 IX, p. 19; Spinelli, op. cit, p. 164; Von Lohner, Mem., p. 410). 
 
 Sources: Nolant de Fatonville, Colombine, avocat pour et con- 
 ire (1685), and Colombine, femme vengee (1689). Hauteroche, 
 L 'Esprit follet (1684). Boisrobert, L'Inconnue (1646). Tirso de 
 Molina, Don Gil de las calzas verdes (bef. 1618). Calderon, 
 La Dama duende. 
 
 1745. 16. IL SERVITORE DI DUE PADRONI. 4 masks. Aut. (Von 
 Lohner, Mem., p. 392: Sacchi, for whom it was composed in the 
 form of a scenario, returning from Russia during the summer). 
 Written in Pisa. First ed. 1753, vol. Ill, Pap. 
 
 Source: A transl. by Luigi Riccoboni of Arlequin, valet de deux 
 maitres, comedy by Jean Pierre de Ours de Mandajors, perf. Paris, 
 July 31, 1718 (Nouveau Mercure, Aug., 1718; Dictionnaire des 
 theatres de Paris, 1756). 
 
 1746? 17. IL FIGLIO D'ARLECCHINO PERDUTO E RITRO- 
 VATO. Improvised comedy, partly written. After Gold, heard 
 from Sacchi, probably aut. 1745, regarding success of 16, and be- 
 fore author's journey to Florence, beginning of May, 1747 (Von 
 Lohner, Mem., p. 399). Printed in Rasi, / Comici italiani, Part I, 
 vol. I, p. 373, who translated it from Desboulmiers. 
 
 For Medebac, Sant' Angela Theatre, Venice. 
 
 There was a preliminary agreement, signed Sept. 1747, for 
 the theatrical year 1748-49, followed on March 10, 1749, by a 
 contract in force from Feb. 19 of that year until the last day 
 of Cam., 1753. Terms: Gold, to write 8 comedies and 2 operas 
 for each theatrical year, not to write for other theatres of Venice 
 except books for musical plays, and to accompany the troupe on 
 its journeys to the mainland between Carn. and Aut. 
 
 1748. 18. IL FRAPP ATORE (Tonin bella grazia). 2 masks. Aut. 
 
 Aut. Partly written in Pisa, for Gold, gives notice of this play to 
 
 D'Arbes in letter dated Pisa, Aug. 13, 1747 (Maddalena, Nota 
 
604 APPENDICES 
 
 storica, Mun. of Ven., vol. II, p. 77). First ed. 1757, vol. X, 
 Pap. 
 
 Source: Paroncin, see 10. 
 
 19. I DUE GEMELLI VENEZIANI. 3 masks. Aut., but pos- 
 sibly in Pisa, 1747 (Pap., vol. IX), or Mantua, spring, 1748 (Mem. 
 I, p. 295, Act III, 17, mentions date, Jan. 14. 1746 (more <ueneto 
 = 1747) in a marriage contract. Written for D'Arbes before 
 Gold, met Medebac (Von Lohner, Mem., p. 407, note). First ed. 
 1750, vol. I, Bett. 
 
 Sources: Plautus, Menachmi. Regnard, Les Menechmes ou les 
 jumeaux. G. B. Delia Porta, / Due fratelli simili. Scenari: 
 (Locatelli), Le Due simile, Le Due simili di Plauto, Li Due fra- 
 telli simili; (cod. Correr, Museo Civ., Venice), Due Flaminie 
 simile, Due simili con le lettere mutate; (Scala), Li Due vecchi 
 gemelli, Li Due capitani simili; etc. Also G. B. Andreini, La 
 Turca. Trissino, / Simillimi. Firenzuola, I Lucidi. Aretino, Le 
 Due Francesche. Bibbiena, Calandria. Gold, says (Pasq., vol. 
 VIII, preface) that original of Pancrazio (who has the attributes 
 of Tartuffe) is Dominican who fleeced him on journey to Chioggia, 
 when expelled from Ghislieri College. (Jurisprudence), 15. 
 / 20. L'UOMO PRUDENTE. 3 masks. Aut., after failure of 
 18 (Mem. I, p. 299), and after 19 (Malamani, L'Ateneo veneto 
 a C. G., p. 32), but possibly in Mantua, spring (Pap., vol. IV). 
 Written in Pisa (Mem. I, p. 300). First ed. 1750, vol. I, Bett. 
 
 Source: (Jurisprudence), 15, 19. 
 
 Dec. 2i. LA VEDOVA SCALTRA. 3 masks. Began Cam. (Mem. 
 26* I, p. 305), but probably given to Medebac in July and perf. at 
 Modena, Summ. (Pap., vol. 3; Modena a C. G., pp. 67 & 306). 
 First ed. 1750, vol. I, Bett. 
 
 Source: Arcangelo Spagna, La Donna folletto owero le lar've 
 amorose (ed. 1684). Hauteroche, L'Esprit follet (1684). Reg- 
 nard, Les Folles amour euses. (Cicisbeism), 20. Inspired by Mme. 
 Medebac's acting at perf. of number 15, Leghorn, Summ., 1747. 
 
 1749. 22. NERONE. Tragedy. Jan. (Spinelli, Fogli sparsi, letter of 
 Cam. Dec. 29, 1748, where Gold, says: "La sesta sera dell' anno pros- 
 simo venture andra in scena per la prima volta a Sant' Angelo"). 
 Not printed. 
 
 23. LA PUTTA ONORATA. Ven. (except 2 roles), 3 masks. 
 Cam., finishing season (Mem. I, p. 307). First ed. 1751, vol. II, 
 Bett. 
 
 Source: Le Putte di Castello, a popular comedy. (Venetian 
 life), 10. 
 
 24. IL PANTALONE IMPRUDENTE. Gold, wrote a com- 
 edy with this title one year after 20; it was not perf. (Pap., vol. 
 VII, pref. to 63). The Diario veneto of Jan. 14 and 15, 1765, indi- 
 
APPENDICES 605 
 
 cates a perf. of 24 (Ortolani, Nota storica to 61, Mim. of Ven., 
 vol. IX). Lost. 
 
 Aut. 25. LA BUONA MOGLIE (La Bona mugier). 3 masks. Oct., 
 season opening with 21, the perf. of which was suspended by 
 the Tribunal of the Inquisition, Nov. 15, but which had probably 
 already stopped, owing to Chiari's parody of 21, La Scuola delle 
 vedove, at the San Samuele (Malamani, L'Ateneo veneto a C. G. t 
 p. 28). First ed. 1751, vol. II, Bett. 
 
 Source: 23, to which it is a sequel with same dramatis per- 
 sons. 
 
 26. IL CAVALIERE E LA DAMA o I CICISBEI. 3 masks. 
 Nov. 25-Dec. 15 (Mem. I, p. 318; Mun. of Ven., vol. Ill, Nota 
 storica, p. 289). Had been perf. Verona, Summ. (Pasq., vol. II; 
 Masi, Scelta di commedie dl C. G., vol. I). First ed. 1752, vol. 
 Ill, Bett. 
 
 Sources: (Cicisbeism), 20, 21. (Jurisprudence), 15, 19, 20. 
 Dec. 27. IL PADRE DI FAMIGLIA. 3 masks when first perf.; i 
 26. mask when first printed; none in final form (Pasq., vol. VII). 
 Probably opens Carn., possibly given early in 1750. First ed. 
 1751, vol. II, Bett. 
 
 Maddalena (Mun. of Ven., vol. Ill, Nota storica, p. 185) says 
 of 27: " Rappresentata nel sett, del '50 al Teatro del Cocomero a 
 Firenze (v. Lami, Novelle letterarie, 1751, T. XII, col. 665) e nel 
 earn, dell' anno seguente (stile comune) a Venezia "... This 
 does not necessarily mean, though it implies, a first perf.. Its suc- 
 cessor, L'Awocato veneziano (Mem. I, p. 363), had already been 
 mentioned in the pref. to the Bettinelli ed. (1750) ; Malamani, 
 op. cit., p. 28, places 27 in the theatrical year 1749-50; lastly, if 
 it had been first perf. in Venice during Carn. 1751, there would 
 have been 17, not 16, new comedies in 1750-51. 
 
 Sources: Character of Ottavio suggested by same Dominican as 
 was that of Pancrazio in 19. For alleged plagiarism in Diderot's 
 Pere de famille, see Toldo, Se il D. abbia imitato il G,, and 
 Pasq., vol. VII, p. 165. (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26. 
 
 28. GIUSTINO. Tragedy. Date unknown, but mentioned by 
 Gold, in the Prefazione dell' autore premessa all' Edizione di 
 Venezia MDCCL e a quella di Firenze MDCCLIH (Pasq., vol. 
 I, p. 14). First ed. 1793, vol. XXXII, Zatta. 
 
 1750. 29. L'AVVOCATO VENEZIANO. i mask; protagonist speaks 
 Carn. Ven. Cam., following 27 (Mem. I, p. 363; Malamani, op. cit., 
 p. 28). First ed. 1752; vol. Ill, Bett. 
 
 Sources: (Jurisprudence), 15, 19, 20, 26. Law case in 29 pro- 
 posed by Gold, in 1732, in the Academy of Doctor Ortolani of 
 Venice (Pasq., vol. X, p. 9). 
 
 30. LA FAMIGLIA DELL' ANTIQUARIO o sia LA SUO- 
 CERA E LA NUORA. 4 masks. Carn. (A. & A. Spinelli, Let- 
 
606 APPENDICES 
 
 tere di C. G. e di G. Medebach al conte Arconati-Visconti, p. 
 59; Malamani, op. cit., p. 28). First ed. 1752, vol. Ill, Bett. 
 
 Sources: lacopo Angelo Nelli, La Suocera e la nuora (Landau, 
 Geschichte der ital. Litter.; Maddalena, Intorno alia Famiglia 
 dell'antiquario ; Malamani, op. cit.) Original of the antiquary is 
 Antonio de' Capitani of Mantua, mentioned by Casanova in his 
 Memoirs, vol. II, p. 59 (Valeri, Intorno a una commedia di Gold.). 
 (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27. 
 
 31. L'EREDE FORTUNATA. i mask, first form 3 masks. 
 End of Cam., but not the last night, when 23 and 25 were given 
 (Mem. I, p. 324; Malamani, op. cit., p. 30). First ed. 1752, vol. 
 Ill, Bett. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Le Cocu imaginaire. (Jurisprudence), 15, 19, 
 20, 26, 29. 
 
 The Sixteen Comedies. At the end of the perf. (Feb. 10, 1750), 
 referred to under 31, Gold, promised in a sonetto recited by the 
 prima donna, "una (commedia) a la settimana per almanco " for 
 the theatrical year 1750-51. In act I, 2 of // Teatro comico (32) 
 Placida mentions 16 titles of comedies, but though in the dialogue 
 preceding the list it is stated on two occasions that Gold, had writ- 
 ten them, they were not all in existence on Oct. 5, 1750, when the new 
 Venetian season began. During the summer at Mantua and Milan 
 Gold, wrote only seven of the 16 (Malamani L'A-teneo veneto a 
 C. G.), and that is all he brought with him to Venice. On the 
 last Sunday but one before the end of the theatrical year (Carn., 
 1751), Gold, had not even the subject for the i6th and last of 
 the series: / Pettegolezzi delle donne (Mem. I, p. 355)/ The 
 first ed. of 32 was issued after April 24, 1751, (Spinelli, Bibl. 
 gold., p. 21 ), and Gold., therefore, had time to suit the printed 
 list to the facts as they had occurred, although there is evidence 
 (Mem. L, p. 352) that on Oct. 5, 1750, he gave several titles to 
 which he wrote comedies during the year. 
 
 Comparing the list of 16 titles in 32 with the list in Mem. I., 
 p. 327, we see i, that the latter gives only 15 titles; 2 that the 
 former has I Poeti (II Poeta fanatico), and // Vero amico, which 
 the latter omits; 3, that the latter mentions La Famiglia dell' an- 
 tiquario (30). This play is mentioned in 32, but not in the list 
 of 16; act I, 9 refers to it under its sub-title, La Suocera e la 
 nuora, as already performed and known. Besides, the Sonetto of 
 Feb. 10, 1750 (Malamani, op. cit., p. 32.) includes it among the 
 comedies performed during the season then ending. Again, the 
 Paperini ed., vol. IV, gives its date as Venice, Cam., 1749 (the- 
 atrical year). Number 30, therefore, does not belong to the 16 
 comedies. 
 
 The Complimento, first published by Foffano (Nuovo Archivio 
 Veneto, vol. XVIII, p. 227) in 1899, though recited by Mme. 
 Medebac at end of Carn. 1751, mentions the 16 titles of // Teatro 
 comico in the order given in that play. Its 2ist stanza, how- 
 ever, refers to an Arlecchino finto moreto. This is, as Mal- 
 amani points out, evidently an improvised comedy, performed in 
 another Venetian theatre at the time when La Donna volubile 
 (46) was failing and for which the public was leaving the Sant' 
 
APPENDICES 607 
 
 Angelo theatre, as the text of the stanza abundantly shows. 
 Maddalena in Una diavoleria di titoli e di cifre suggests that 
 Arlecchino finto moreto was but another title for 30; yet, this 
 would lead to the conclusion that 30 belongs to the 16 comedies, 
 or that 17, not 16, new plays were given by Gold, during the 
 theatrical year 1750-51. 
 
 _ The list in Gold.'s memoirs being manifestly in error, and the 
 list in // Teatro comico being supported by the Complimento 
 above mentioned, the second list is here chosen as authority. 
 
 Aut. 32. IL TEATRO COMICO (Part of 2d and 3d acts is occu- 
 pied by a farce, // Padre rivale del figlio). 4 masks "in statu 
 naturae." Oct. 5 (Gradenigo, Notatorj], but first at Milan, Summ. 
 (Mun. of Ven., vol. IV, Nota storica to 32). First ed. 1751, vol. 
 II, Bett. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, La Critique de I 1 ecole des femmes, L'lm- 
 promptu de Versailles. Number 5, of A, i ; and 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 of A, 
 4. (Actors), 14. 
 
 33. LE FEMMINE PUNTIGLIOSE (I Puntigli delle donne}. 
 3 masks. Oct. 10 (Spinelli, Fogli spar si, p. 13), but first at Man- 
 tua, April 18 (Vol. VI, Bett. 1753, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Le Bourgeois gentilhomme. Dancourt, Le 
 Chevalier a la mode, Les Bourgeoises. Hauteroche, Les Bour- 
 geoises de qualite. D'Allainval, L'Ecole des bourgeois. G. B. 
 Fagiuoli, La Nobilta vuol richezze owero il Conte di Bucotondo 
 (1734). G. C. Becelli, La Pazzia delle pompe (1748). Nelli, La 
 Moglie in calzoni (1727). (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30. 
 
 34. LA BOTTEGA DEL (DI, DA) CAFFE (// Maldicente 
 alia bottega del caffe). First Ven., later Tuscan; first with 2 
 masks, later with none. Oct., but first in Mantua, May 2 (Vol. 
 IV, Bett., 1753, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Destouches, Le Medisant. Cresset, Le Mechant. 
 Gold.'s interlude of same title. Voltaire has probably imitated 34 
 in Le Cafe ou L'Ecossaise, Lessing in Minna von Barnhelm, Alber- 
 gati in his Ciarlator maldicente. (Gaming), 25. 
 
 35. IL BUGIARDO. 4 masks. Aut., but first in Mantua, May 
 23 (Medebac in vol. IV, Bett., 1753, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Pierre Corneille, Le Menteur, Suite du Menteur. 
 Alarcon, La Verdad sospechosa. Romagnesi, La Feinte inutile. 
 Maddalena suggests that serenade in Act I, i may be that sung by 
 Agnese Amurat in 1732 under the windows of the aunt and her 
 niece, to whom Gold, was paying court simultaneously (Mun. of 
 Ven., vol. IV, Nota storica; Mem. I, p. 150). 
 
 36. L'ADULATORE. 3 masks. Aut., but first in Mantua, 
 spring (Spinelli, Bibl. gold., p. 23). First ed. 1753, vol. IV, 
 Bett. 
 
 Sources: J. B. Rousseau, Le Flatteur. Moliere, Tartuffe, and 
 L'Avare. (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33. 
 
608 APPENDICES 
 
 37. IL POETA FANATICO (I Poeti, Le Gare fra i poeti). 
 Verse and prose, 2 masks. Aut., but first at Milan, Sep. 5 (Pap., 
 vol. VIII). First ed. 1753, vol. VII, Belt. 
 
 In letter to Vendramin, Bologna, Aug. 21, 1759 (Mantovani), 
 Gold, describes as last of 9 plays he promises for 1759-60, a play 
 over which Polymnia, the Muse of rhetoric, shall preside. " It 
 will be written in versi liberi, now in blank, than in rhymed 
 verse; now in terzetti, then in Martellian lines." This descrip- 
 tion tallies with the form of 37 as printed in vol XX, Zatta. 
 Mantovani calls the projected play // Poeta fanatico. There is 
 no record of this title among the plays given in 1759-60 or 
 after. 
 
 Sources: Girolamo Baruffaldi, // Poeta (1734). Desmarets de 
 Saint-Sorlin, Les Visionnaires (1637), transl. into It. by Pellegrino 
 Rossi (1737)- Luisa Bergalli, Le Adventure del poeta (1730). 
 Piron, Le Metromanie (for Damis). Moliere, Le Misanthrope 
 (for Oronte), and Les Femmes savantes (for Vadius and Tris- 
 sotin). 
 
 38. PAMELA NUBILE (La Pamela, Pamela putta, Pamela 
 fanciulla). Aut., but first at Milan, summ. (Spinelli, Bibl. gold., 
 p. 23). First ed. 1753, vol. V, Bett. 
 
 Gold, says: " Provai una Commedia senza le Maschere, e 
 questa fu la Pamela; vidi che non dispiacque, ed io ne feci alcun* 
 altre, felici tutte egualmente." (Pasq., vol. II, p. io). See, how- 
 ever, number 7 and Mem. I, p. 221. 
 
 Pamela is last among the 16 comedies, written at Mantua or 
 Milan. 
 
 Sources: Richardson, Pamela, of which It. transl. was printed 
 by Bett. in 1744-45. Voltaire, Nanine, but Merz (p. 36) denies 
 this source. (Foreigners), 21. 
 
 39. IL CAVALIERE DI BUON GUSTO (L'Uomo di gusto). 
 4 masks. Dec. n (Spinelli, op. cit., p. 24). First ed. 1753, vol. 
 VI, Bett. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Don Juan, ou le Festin de pierre. (Cicis- 
 beism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36. (Gold.'s ideal of a man of the 
 world: Mun. of Ven., vol. V, Nota storica to 39), io, n. 
 
 40. IL GIUOCATORE. 3 masks. End of Aut. (Malamani, 
 L'Ateneo veneto a C. G. f p. 41). First ed. 1754, vol. V, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Regnard, Le Joueur. Luigi Riccoboni, // Giuocatore, 
 scenario perf. Paris, 1718. (Gaming), 25, 34. Also Gold.'s ex- 
 perience with young Paduan who, in 1730, on boat to and at 
 Ferrara cheated him at Cala Carte and at Bassetta (Pasq., vol. 
 IX). Act III, 2 of play harks back to night Gold, spent playing 
 Bassetta at Padua in 1731, when next morning he came up for 
 examination for degree of Doctor of Law. Having lost all his 
 money, he pawned diamond pin the lady he then courted had 
 given him. Similarly, Florindo pawns Rosaura's jewel (Pasq., 
 vol. X, p. 6). 
 
APPENDICES 609 
 
 Dec. 41. IL VERO AMICO. First with masks. Dec. 26 (Mala- 
 
 26. mani, ibid.). First ed., 1753, vol. IV, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Plautus, Aulularla. Moliere, L'Avare, Les Femmes 
 savantes. Luigi Riccoboni, La Force de I'amitie, scenario perf. 
 Paris, 1717. Flaminio Scala, // Fido amlco, scenario. Boccaccio, 
 // Decamerone, Giorn. X, Novella 8. For question of Diderot's 
 plagiarism in Le Fils naturel from this play, see Gold.'s denial in 
 Pasq., vol. VII, and Maddalena in Mun. of Ven., vol. V. 
 
 1751. 42. LA FINTA AMMALATA (Lo Speclale o sia la Finta am- 
 Carn. malata, Lo Speciale balordo). i mask. Carn. (List in 32, Act 
 
 I, 2). First ed. 1753, vol. IV, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, L' Amour medecin. Cecchi, La Flnta amma- 
 
 lata. Protagonist a portrait of Mme. Medebac. 
 
 43. LA DAMA PRUDENTE (La Donna prudente). Carn. 
 (List in 32, Act I, 2). First ed. 1753, vol. VII, Pap. 
 
 Sources: A. G. Brignole Sale, Geloso non geloso. J. A. Nelli, 
 // Geloso disinvolto. Campistron, Le Jaloux desabuse. (Cicis- 
 beism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39. 
 
 44. L'INCOGNITA PERSEGUITATA (L'lncognita, L'lncog- 
 nita perseguitata dal bravo impertinente). 3 masks. Carn. (List 
 in 32). First ed. 1754, vol. VIII, Pap. 
 
 Source: See Mem. I, p. 352. 
 
 45. L'AVVENTURIERE ONORATO. Guglielmo first a Pan- 
 taloon, and his role in Ven. (Pap. vol. III). Feb. 13 (Vol. V, 
 Bett., 1753, which is first ed.). 
 
 Source: Goldoni's life. (Physicians), 42. (Jurisprudence), 15, 
 19, 20, 26, 29, 31. 
 
 46. LA DONNA VOLUBILE. 3 masks. Feb. (see 45). First 
 ed. 1755, vol. VIII, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Destouches, L'Irresolu. For Act I, 13, Moliere, Don 
 Juan, ou le Festin de plerre (Act II, 5 & 6) ; see also L'Ecole des 
 femmes, L'Ecole des marts. The capricious actress Caterina 
 Landi. 
 
 47. I PETTEGOLEZZI DELLE DONNE. Ven., 2 masks. 
 Ends Cam., Feb. 23, being last of the 16 comedies. First ed. 1753, 
 Vol. V, Bett. 
 
 Source: See Mem. I, p. 355. (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34. 
 Aut. 48. IL MOLIERE. Mart, (ist time), 5 acts. Oct. 4, but first 
 in Turin, Aug. 28 (Bett., vol. IV, 1753, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Grimarest, La Vie de M. de Moliere. Anonymous, La 
 Fameuse comedienne, ou Histoire de la Guerin, auparavant femme 
 et veuve de Moliere. Moliere, Tartuffe. Gigli, La Sorellina di 
 Don Pilone. 
 
 49. LA CASTALDA. 3 masks. Oct. First ed. 1753 ; vol. VII, 
 Bett. 
 
6io APPENDICES 
 
 In Pap., vol. VII, preface to La Donna vendicativa (63), Gold, 
 mentions in their order 40 comedies and libretti written for 
 Medebac under contract of 1749. There 49 follows // Mo Here, of 
 which date is certain. In Pap., vol. VIII, however, date of 49 
 is given as Aut., 1752. In Mem. I, p. 382, Gold, says he gave it to 
 Medebac at end of Cam., 1753. See Mem. II, p. 87. Authority 
 adopted nearest the event. 
 
 Source: (Villeggiatura), u. Written to fit the servetta Mad- 
 dalena Marliani. 
 
 50. L'AMANTE MILITARE. 3 masks. Aut. (Pap., vol. V; 
 preface to 63 see note to 49 confirms). First ed. 1755, vol. V, 
 Pap. 
 
 Source: See Mem. I, p. 177, et seq.; p. 186 et seq., and p. 256 
 et seq. 
 
 1752. 51. IL TUTORE. 3 masks. Jan. 4 (Bett., vol. V, 1753, which 
 Cam. is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Dufresny, Le Negligent. Gold.'s interlude, LaPupilla. 
 
 52. LA MOGLIE SAGGIA (// Trionfo della prudenza in 
 Rosaura moglie amorosa, La Moglie amoroso}. 3 masks. Cam. 
 (Preface to 63; Ded. to La Serva amorosa 55 ,Pap., vol. I, p. 
 319). First ed. 1753, vol. VI, Bett. 
 
 Sources: Chiari, La Moglie saggia, in its turn imitated from 
 26. G. A. Costantini, La Dama ossia la Saggia moglie (1751). 
 Moliere's process of having valets repeat scenes enacted between 
 their masters. (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43. 
 
 53. IL FEUDATARIO (// Marchese di Monte Fosco). 2 
 masks. Feb. 7 (Bett., vol. VII, 1753, which is first ed.). 
 
 Source: See Pasq., vol. XVI, preface. 
 
 54. LE DONNE GELOSE. Ven., i mask. Feb. 12, ending 
 Cam. (Bett., vol. VI, 1753, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34, 47. (Gaming), 25, 34, 40. 
 
 Aut. 55. LA SERVA AMOROSA. 3 masks. Oct.,* but first at 
 Bologna, spring (Pasq., vol. Ill, p. 73 ; Neri, Aneddoti gold., p. 
 78). First ed. 1753, vol. I, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Le Malade imaginaire. ]. A. Nelli, La 
 Moglie in calzoni. Basilio Locatelli, // Vecchio avaro overo li 
 scritti, scenario not later than 1618. (Stepmothers), 27. 
 
 56. I PUNTIGLI DOMESTICI. 4 masks. Oct., but first in 
 Milan, summ. (Preface to 63, Pap.). First ed. 1754, vol. VI, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Racine, Les Plaideurs. (Jurisprudence), 15, 19, 20, 
 26, 29, 31, 45. (Domestic quarrels), 30, 39, 47. 
 
 57. LA FIGLIA OBBEDIENTE. 3 masks. Aut. (Pasq., vol. 
 VIII). First ed. 1754, vol. VI, Pap. 
 
 * Gold.'s letter, Oct. 7, 1752 (Spinelli, Fogli sparsi) : " Mar- 
 tedi si aprirono li Teatri. Al nostro di Sant' Angelo si diede 
 principio con il Tutore, e la seconda sera si pose in scena la 
 Serva amorosa, la quale si seguita tuttavia a rappresentarsi . . ." 
 
APPENDICES 611 
 
 Source: (Actors), 14, 32. 
 
 58. I MERCANTI (7 Due Pantaloni, I Mercatanti). First 
 with 4 masks, later with none. Probably Dec. 26 (Pasq., vol. IX). 
 First ed. 1754, vol. V, Pap. 
 
 Sources: The Pantaloon Collalto's ability, he playing both 
 father and son in 58. (Commerce), 14, 26. (Avarice), 41. 
 (Physicians), 42, 45. (Foreigners), 21, 38. 
 
 753- 59. LA LOCANDIERA (Gil Amanti in locanda, 11 Cavaliere 
 Cam. dl Ripafratta o sla il Marchese di Forlipopoli). Jan. (In Act I, 
 9 the Cav. reads letter dated Jan. i, 1753). First ed. 1753, vol. 
 II, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Marivaux, La Surprise de I' amour, Les Serments in- 
 discrets. Moliere, La Princesse d'Elide. Development of Miran- 
 dolina traceable through n, 15, 21, 37, 49, 50, 56. 
 
 60. LE DONNE CURIOSE. 3 masks. Cam. (Mem. I, p. 382). 
 First ed. 1753, vol. IV, Pap. 
 
 Sources: See Masi, Scelta etc., vol. I, p. 455 et seq., and Mad- 
 dalena, Nota storica, vol. IX, Mun. of Ven. Francesco Grisellini, 
 / Libert muratori (1652). (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 
 39, 43, 52. 
 
 61. IL CONTRATTEMPO o sia IL CHIACCHIERONE IM- 
 PRUDENTE (L'Imprudente, L'Uomo imprudente}. 2 masks. 
 Carn., ending March 6. First ed. 1754, vol. VIII, Pap. 
 
 See Mem. I, p. 382. But pref. to 63, vol. VII, Pap. (note to 
 49) gives 6 1 as part of the ten works for this year (see contract). 
 Its performance followed that of 60 under title of L'Uomo im- 
 prudente. Date in first ed. : Cam., 1752, is more veneto, or 
 theatrical year 1752-53. Zatta date: Aut, 1757, is out of the 
 question, since Gold, states in first ed. that he rewrote 61 in 
 1754- 
 
 Sources: Eight scenari derived from Nicolo Barbieri (Bel- 
 trame), Inavertito overo Scappino disturbato e Mezzetino travag- 
 liato (Emilio Re, in Rivista teatrale, 1910), from which Moliere 
 derived L'Etourdi ou le contretemps. Luigi Riccoboni, Le Sincere 
 a contretemps, Paris, 1717. Moliere, L'Ecole des femmes, L'Ecole 
 des marls. 
 
 62. IL SENSALE DI MATRIMONI. Before April 28. Lost. 
 
 Lettera dell' avvocato Carlo Goldoni ad un suo amico in 
 Venezia, Florence, April 28, 1753, printed as announcement to 
 Pap. (Urbani de Gheltof, Letter e di C. G.; Spinelli, Fogli sparsi, 
 p. 25, note): " / Poeti principalmente e una commedia che non 
 sta, non si puo stampare. La Donna volubile, 11 Sensale di 
 matrimoni non possono correre assolutamente cosl." 
 
 Aut. 63. LA DONNA VENDICATIVA. i mask. Aut. (Maddalena, 
 Mun. of Ven., vol. IX, Nota storica}. First ed. 1754, vol. VII, 
 Pap. 
 
6ia APPENDICES 
 
 Maddalena (ibid.) seems to disprove Gold.'s statement in Mem. 
 I, p. 382 by means of preface to 63. Not counting 24, 28, 
 and 62, for obvious reasons, this catalogue presents a corroborated 
 record of forty-three plays given by Goldoni to Medebac in the 
 five years of his connection with the Sant' Angelo. Supposing 
 that the agreement of Sept. 1747 called for eight plays during the 
 first year, Goldoni contracted to write forty plays for Medebac. 
 He presented the manager, therefore, with three plays, as he says 
 in the Memoirs. 
 
 Sources: J. A. Nelli, La Serva padrona (1731). G. A. Fed- 
 erico, La Serva padrona (1733), an interlude. Written for the 
 servetta Maddalena Marliani, who had also inspired 49, 55, 56, 
 59, 60. 
 
 For the Brothers Fendramin, San Luca Theatre, Venice. 
 
 The first contract, with Antonio, in force from first day of Lent, 
 1753, calls for 8 plays a year; the second, with Francesco, ap- 
 plying from March i, 1757, demands 6 plays annually, but al- 
 lows 9 ; the third, with Francesco, dated March 2, 1762, covering 
 Gold.'s stay in France " per il corso di anni due circa," requires 
 such original comedies as he is able to send. All forbid Gold.'s 
 writing comedies for theatres in Venice other than the San Luca, 
 and his publishing them before three years shall have passed 
 after their first performance (Mantovani). 
 
 1753. 64. IL GELOSO AVARO. 2 masks, the Dottore and Arlec- 
 Aut. chino being present also, but in modified form. Oct. (Pasq., vol. 
 XII, p. 186), but first in Leghorn, spring (Pitt., vol. I, 1757, which 
 is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Moliere, L'Avare. (Avarice), 41, 58. (Jealousy), 30, 
 33, 43, 54- f (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60. 
 See Pasq., ibid., or Mem. II, p. 4. 
 
 65. LA DONNA DI TESTA DEBOLE o sia LA VEDOVA 
 INFATUATA (L'Uomo sincero). 2 masks, Dottore and Arlec- 
 chino as in 64. Aut., but first in Leghorn, Summ. (Pitt., vol. I, 
 1757, which is first ed.). First play written for San Luca (ibid.). 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Les Femmes savantes, Le Misanthrope. 
 Fatonville, La Fille savante. J. A. Nelli, La Dottoressa preziosa. 
 J 66. LA SPOSA PERSIANA. Tragi-comedy, Mart., 5 acts. 
 Aut. (Pitt., vol. I; Pasq., vol. XIII). Ran 32 or 34 nights (Pasq., 
 vol. XVII or XIII). Third play written for San Luca. First ed. 
 1757, vol. I, Pitt. 
 
 Source: A History of Modern Times or Present State of All 
 Nations, London, 1731 (Mem. II, p. 6). ty TVwo>vvaA ,> o/w*y\v 
 
 67. LA CAMERIERA BRILLANTE. 3 masks. Follows 66 
 (Mem. II, p. 22) ; may open Cam. (Pitt., vol. II; Zatta, vol. XX). 
 First ed. 1757, vol. II, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: Guelette, Les Comediens par hazard, Paris, 1718. A. 
 Passanti (ed.), La Commedia in commedia, in the Zibaldone 
 
APPENDICES 613 
 
 comico, etc. (Ms.). (Villeggiatura), n, 49. (Serva padrona), 
 49, 63. 
 
 68. LA MASCHERA. Scenario in part. 1753 (Mem. II, p. 
 354). Lost. 
 
 I754- 69. IL FILOSOFO INGLESE. Mart., 5 acts. Jan. 4 (Ziliotto, 
 Cam. C. G. e I'lstna; Neri, Aneddoti gold., p. 74, note). First ed. 1757, 
 
 vol. I, Pitt. 
 
 Source: Addison, etc., The Spectator. It. transl. (Venice, 1752) 
 
 of Elizabeth Haywood's French transl., La Spectatrice. (For* 
 
 eigners), 21, 38, 58. 
 
 70. IL VECCHIO BIZZARRO (// Cortesan vecchio). 3 masks. 
 
 rCarn. (Pasq., vol. XVII, p. 155). First ed. 1757, vol. II, Pitt. 
 Sources: (Man of the world), 10, n, 39. 
 71. IL FESTINO. Mart., 5 acts. Ends Cam. (Pitt., vol. II, 
 1757, which is first ed.). Changed to prose for Tordinona theatre, 
 Rome (Mun. of Ven., vol. XV, p. 271). 
 Sources: Moliere, Critique de I'ecole des femmes. See Pasq., 
 vol. XVII, p. 154, and Mem. II, p. 34. (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 
 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 64. 
 
 Summ. 72.L'IMPOSTORE. 4 masks. Written at Modena for Father 
 Giambattista Roberti, Summ. (Bonfanti, La Data dell' Impostore; 
 Maddalena, Mun. of Ven., vol. XI, p. 199). First ed. 1754, vol. 
 VII, Pap. 
 
 Sources: (Jurisprudence), 15, 19, 20, 26, 29, 31, 45, 56. (Mili- 
 tarism), 50. Pasq., vol. XVII, p. 6, and Mem. I, p. 248. 
 
 Aut. 73. LA MADRE AMOROSA. 3 masks. Oct., but first in 
 Genoa, spring (Pitt., vol. Ill, or Mun. of Ven., vol. XI: Intro- 
 duzione per la prima recita d'autunno 1754). 
 
 Ready for Cam. of preceding season, but postponed owing to 
 quarrel between prima donna Gandini and servetta Bresciani 
 over principal role. 
 
 Source: Nivelle de la Chausee and the " comedie larmoyante." 
 
 74. IL TERENZIO. Mart., 5 acts. Aut. (Letter from Gas- 
 paro Gozzi, Nov. 2, 1754, in Mun. of Ven., vol. XI, p. 392). 
 First ed. 1758, vol. Ill, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: Pitisco, Lexicon antiquitatum romanorum. Moreri, 
 Dictionnaire historique. It. transl. of Terence by Luisa Ber- 
 galli (1739), or Nicolo Fortiguerri (1748). Regnard, Democrite. 
 Moliere, Amphitrion. (Lives of authors), 48. 
 
 75. LA PERUVIANA. Tragi-comedy, Mart., 5 acts. Aut. 
 (Spinelli, Fogli sparsi, p. 33; Pasq., vol. XV, p. 159). First ed. 
 1757, vol. Ill, Pitt. 
 
 Source: Franchise Graffigny, Les Lettres d'une Peruvienne. 
 1755 . 76. IL TORQUATO TASSO. Mart., 5 acts. Cam. (Spinelli, 
 Cam. op. cit. ; Pacq., vol. XVI; Pitt., vol. Ill, 1757, which is first ed.). 
 
614 APPENDICES 
 
 Sonrces: Moreri, Dictionnaire historlque. See preface to 76. 
 (Lives of authors), 48, 74. 
 
 77. IL CAVALIERE GIOCONDO (I Viaggiatori} . Mart., 5 
 acts. Carn. (Spinelli, ibid; Pitt., vol. IV, 1758, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Scipione Maffei, Raguet. J. A. Nelli, // Viaggiatore 
 affettato. Bartoli, / Viaggiatori, scenario, Paris, 1754. Moliere, 
 Georges Dandin, Le Bourgeois gentilhomme. (Struggle between 
 bourgeoisie and aristocracy), 30, 33, 38, 59. (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 
 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 64, 71. 
 
 78. LE MASSERE (Le Massare). Ven., Mart., 5 acts. Ends 
 Cam., Feb. n (Mun. of Ven., vol. XII, p. 216). First ed. 1758, 
 vol. IV, Pitt. 
 
 Two plays less than full quota for 1754-55. Gold, says (Mem. 
 II, p. 31): " Je revins a Venise avec assez de materiaux pour 
 Pannee comiaue 1754, et je fis 1'ouverture par une piece intitulee 
 La Villeggiatura." And ibid., p. 71 : " Je fis succeder a celle-ci 
 (La Peruviana) une comedie en prose, intitulee Un Curio so acci- 
 dente." But in letter of Apr. 5, 1755 (Spinelli, Fogli sparsi) he 
 says: " L'Anno scorso e stato per me non poco calamitoso. Ne ha 
 risentito anche il Teatro mio, poiche in luogo d'otto commedie 
 cinque sole ho potuto fame." He then mentions 74, 75, 76, 77, 78. 
 This statement corroborated in preface to 46 (Pap.): " Egli e 
 vero die in quest' anno, a causa delle malattie sudette . . . cinque 
 Commedie solo, in luogo delle otto promesse, mi riusci di com- 
 pire." 
 
 Sources: The Latin Tabernia:. Sophron, Mimes. J. A. Nelli, 
 Le Serve al forno. (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34, 47, 54. 
 
 Summ. 79. LA FIERA. Bagnoli, district of Padua, for Count Widi- 
 man (Mem. II, p. 50). Lost. 
 
 80. I MALCONTENTI. Summ., Verona (Gold.'s letter, Aug. 
 3, 1755, Mantovani). 
 
 Intended for Aut., but vetoed by the Censors as it contained 
 an attack on Chiari (Mantovani, Letter II). Not perf. in Venice 
 (ibid., Vendramin on Dec. 30, 1758): " Fu impedita in altro 
 tempo la recita de' Malcontenti . . . e fu a loro credere un effetto 
 di politica prudenza." Maddalena (Mun. of Ven., vol. XII) 
 finds first trace of a perf. after Verona at Modena in 1759. 
 
 First ed. 1758, vol. IV, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: (Villeggiatura), n, 49, 67. (Jurisprudence), 15, 19, 
 20, 26, 29, 31, 45, 56, 72. 
 
 Aut. 81. LA BUONA FAMIGLIA. Opens Aut. (Mantovani, Let- 
 ter II). One perf. (Neri, Aneddoti, p. 8). First ed. 1758, vol. 
 IV, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 
 64, 7i, 77- 
 
 82. LE DONNE DI CASA SOA (Le Donne casalinghe). Ven., 
 Mart., 5 acts. Aut. (Mantovani, p. 74; Pitt., vol. V, 1758, which 
 is first ed.). 
 
APPENDICES 615 
 
 Sources: J. A. Nelli, La Moglie in calzoni. Fagiuoli, // Marito 
 alia moda. Gorino Corio, // Frippon francese colla dama alia 
 moda. (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34, 47, 54, 78. (Bourgeois virtue), 
 20, 27, 54, 58, 73, 81. 
 
 83. IRC AN A IN JULFA. Tragi-comedy, Mart. Aut. (Man- 
 tovani, letter of Aug. 3, 1755; Mem. II, p. 14; Pasq., vol. XIII, 
 p. 25). First ed. 1758, vol. V, Pitt. 
 
 Source: Number 66, to which it is a sequel. 
 
 84. LA VILLEGGIATURA. Dec. (Mazzoni, Mem. II, note to 
 p. 53). First ed. 1758, vol. V, Pitt. 
 
 First ed. and Zatta give Cam. 1756. Maddalena, assigning no 
 date, says : " Quanto sia vissuta questa Villeggiatura sotto Pegide 
 delP autore non si sa " (Mun. of Yen., vol. XIII). Mazzoni 
 (Mem. II) gives no authority, unless in the note to p. 52 where 
 Gold, is shown to have 4 plays ready in Dec. 1755. Page 
 52 reads: " Apres cette Piece en vers (77), j'en donnai une qui, 
 malgre le desavantage de la prose, etc. . . . Vous verrez, mon 
 cher lecteur, qu'en vous donnant, dans le Chapitre vingt-septieme 
 [read 23me], Textrait d'une Comedie intitulee la Partie de Cam- 
 pagne (84), je dis que j'avais trois autres Pieces sur le meme 
 sujet, et en voici les titres." Goldoni then mentions Le Smanie , 
 Le Awenture , // Ritorno dalla villeggiatura. The prose play 
 which he places after 77 is, therefore, not 84, as Mazzoni seems 
 to think, but Le Smanie della Villeggiatura (127). 
 
 Of 80, which was vetoed by the Censors, Gold, says: "La 
 commedia non si perdera per questo. Cambiero quell' episodio, 
 che feriva il Chiari, in un altro ridicolo, che non sara fuor di 
 proposito; e basta, che la commedia si faccia dentro 1'autunno, 
 perche sia 1'argomento suo alia stagione adattato " (Mantovani, 
 p. 74). Now, as Rabany points out, Le Smanie is but a 
 "replique" of 80. If 80 finally passed the Censors in Aut. 1755, 
 it was in the form of Le Smanie, not in that of 84, which it does 
 not resemble. 
 
 Chapter XXVII (Mem. II), which is a resume of Le Smanie, 
 ends thus: " C'est le sujet principal de la seconde Piece." The 
 next chapter begins: "La suite de la Manie de la Campagne 
 que je donnai une annee apres la premiere, est intitulee les A<ven- 
 tures de la Campagne" The Memoirs, then, place 84 in Aut. 
 1754, and Le Smanie in Aut. 1755. Furthermore, chapter XXX 
 opens thus: " Ayant rapproche 1'abrege de[s] trois Pieces, qui 
 avoient etc donnees dans trois annees differentes," ... a state- 
 ment Gold, had made some 20 years earlier in Pasq., vol. XI, 
 p. 100 : " Queste tre Commedie . . . sono state separatemente 
 rappresentate con una distanza di qualche tempo dall'una all' 
 altra . . . Poteva io dunque per la stessa ragione separarle ne' 
 Tomi della mia novella edizione." The 3 numbers, then, of the 
 'Villeggiatura trilogy Gold, places at three different dates. 
 
 Mazzoni seems to destroy those dates by quoting the Jntrodu- 
 zione alle recite autunnali del 1761. It proves that Le 
 Smanie , Le Awenture , and // Ritorno dalla e villeggiatura 
 were perf. Aut. 1761. But if we consider the last two lines: 
 
616 APPENDICES 
 
 " Nella terza Commedia allor noi pure. 
 Delia 'villa il ritorno avrem studiato." 
 
 in connection with the words fin ora of the 2d line, and with the 
 5th line: 
 
 " Vien Pargomento da lontan sentiero," 
 
 the quotation seems to prove only that // Ritorno dalla villeggia- 
 tura was first perf. Aut. 1761, Le Smanie and Le Awenture be- 
 ing merely repeated then. 
 
 Sources: (Villeggiatura), u, 49, 67, 80. (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 
 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 64, 71, 77, 81. (Gaming), 25, 34, 
 40, 54- 
 
 1756. 85. IL RAGGIRATORE. Jan. 10 (Gradenigo, Cod. 67, Museo 
 Carn. Correr; his Notatorj, Jan. 19, 1756: Mun. of Ven., vol. XIII, pp. 
 285 & 198). One perf. (Neri, Aneddoti, p. 6). First ed. 1758 
 (sic.), vol. Ill, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: Destouches, Le Glorieux. (Jurisprudence), 15, 19, 20, 
 26, 29, 31, 45, 56, 72, 80. 
 
 86. LA DONNA STRAVAGANTE. Mart., Carn. (Gradenigo, 
 ibid.; Gasparo Gozzi in letter Feb. n, 1756: Scritti di G. G., 
 scelti ed ord. da Tommaseo, vol. III). First ed. 1760, vol. VI, 
 Pitt. 
 
 Sources: (Pert women), u, 15, 21, 37, 49, 50, 56, 59, 60, 63, 67. 
 
 87. IL CAMPIELLO. Ven., verse. Feb. 20 (Gradenigo, ibid.). 
 First ed. 1758 (sic), vol. V, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34, 47, 54, 78, 82. 
 
 W.L'AVARO. i act. Bologna, Cam. (Pasq., vol. IV, Mad- 
 dalena in vol. XIII, Mun. of Ven. commenting: " se 1'edizione 
 Pasquali non erra;" see Mem. II, p. 139). First ed. 1762, vol. 
 IV, Pasq. 
 
 In first ed., p. 238, Gold, states that 88 was written for Alber- 
 gati; in Ded. of vol. X, Pitt., Gold, says that it was for a certain 
 "compagnia di Dame e di Cavalieri," not connected with Alber- 
 gati's private theatre. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, L'Avare. (Avarice), 41, 58, 64. 
 
 Aut. 89. L'AMANTE DI SE MEDESIMO (L'Amante di se stesso o 
 I'Egoista). Mart., 5 acts. Oct. (Spinelli, Fogli sparsi, Letter Oct. 
 9, 1756), but first in Milan, Sept. (Preface to 89). First ed. 1760, 
 vol. VI, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: J. J. Rousseau, Narcisse, ou I'amant de lui-meme. 
 (Egoism), 41, 54, 88. 
 
 90. IL MEDICO OLANDESE. Mart., 5 acts. Before Oct. 
 30 (Spinelli, op. cit., Letter Oct. 30, 1756). First ed. 1760, vol. 
 VI, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: See Mem. II, p. 79. Doctor Boerhave represented by 
 Mons. Bainer, Gold, by Mons. Guden, Polacco ipocondriaco. 
 
APPENDICES 617 
 
 (Foreigners), 21, 38, 58, 69. (Physicians), 42, 45, 58. (Neuras- 
 thenics), 51 (Ottawa), 89 (Don Mauro). 
 
 91. IRCANA IN ISPAHAN (Ircana In Ispaan). Tragi-com- 
 edy, Mart., 5 acts. Between Oct. 30 and Dec. 14 (Spinelli, op. 
 cit., Letters of these dates; Pasq., vol. XII, p. 184). First ed. 
 1760, vol. VI, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: Numbers 66, 83, to which it is a sequel. 
 
 92. IL BUON COMPATRIOTTO. Scenario in part, 3 masks. 
 1756 (Mem. II, p. 354). First ed. 1790, vol. XV, Zatta. 
 
 1757- 93. LA DONNA SOLA. Mart., 5 acts. Jan. 4 (Gradenigo, 
 Cam. Notatorj; Pitt., vol. Ill, pref. to 85*). First ed. 1761, vol. VII, 
 
 Pitt. 
 
 Sources: See Mem. II, p. 117. (Pert women), n, 15, 21, 37, 49, 
 
 50, 56, 59, 60, 63, 67, 86. 
 
 94. LA PUPILLA. Sdruccioli verse, 5 acts. Written in 1756; 
 not perf. in Venice until 1830 (Mun. of Ven., vol. XIV, p. 253). 
 First ed. 1757, vol. X, Pap. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, L'Ecole des marls. Dancourt, Le Tuteur. 
 Regnard, Les Folies amoureuses. Fagiuoli, Ciapo tutore. Gold.'s 
 interlude, La Pupilla. Ariosto's and Trissino's style. 
 
 95. UN CURIOSO ACCIDENTE. Cam. (Mem. II, p. 71, 
 where it is placed between 75 and 96, and in close proximity to 
 90). First ed. 1764-68, vol. VII, Pasq. 
 
 Relative order of 95, 96, and 97 in Memoirs, Pasq., and Zatta is 
 the same. Both Pasq. and Zatta were under Gold.'s supervision, 
 and Pasq. gives one hitherto unpublished play each vol. It is 
 certain that 96 comes before March, 1757. (Note to 96). Until 
 end of season Gold.'s contract still calls for 8 plays a year, and 
 he is in arrears. In the absence of more positive indications date 
 adopted for 95 seems probable. 
 
 Sources: See Mem. II, pp. 71 & 80, and Pasq., vol. VII, p. 100. 
 (Foreigners), 21, 38, 58, 69, 90. 
 
 96. LA DONNA DI MANEGGIO. Cam. (Mem. II, p. 73; 
 note to 95). First ed. 1764-68, vol. VIII, Pasq. 
 
 Play dedicated to Mme. du Boccage. First ed., p. 18: " Quand' 
 io 1'ho dato al Teatro, non avea 1'onor di conoscervi, che per 
 fama." Gold, met Mme. du Boccage after March i, 1757, when 
 he returned from Parma (Mun. of Ven., vol. XIII, p. 15; Mem. 
 II, pp. 90, 373, 383). 
 
 Sources: Moliere, L'Avare, Le Cocu imaglnaire. (Avarice), 
 41, 58, 64, 88. 
 
 97. L'IMPRESARIO DELLE SMIRNE. First largely Ven., 
 Bolognese, and with "i riboboli Fiorentini " (Pasq., vol. XII, p. 
 
 * " Similmente in quest' anno 1757, succese una cosa simile nella 
 Rappresentazione della Donna sola, la quale precipito, dopo lo 
 strepitoso incontro della terza Commedia Persiana, Ircana in 
 Ispaan intitolata." 
 
6x8 APPENDICES 
 
 269), later Tuscan; first Mart., 3 acts (ibid.; Mem. II, p. 74), 
 later prose, 5 acts. Ends Carn. (Mem. II, p. 74; note to 95). 
 First ed. 1774, vol. XII, Pasq. 
 
 Nine plays this year. If account is correct, it explains why new 
 contract which begins now, calls for at least 6 (see 1754-55) and 
 allows 9 plays. Probability for date of 97 as adopted increased 
 by its being in dialect when first presented, Gold, giving a play 
 in Ven. at end of every year of his connection with San Luca 
 except the first, and 3 times out of 5 during Medebac period. 
 
 Sources: (Actors), 14, 32, 57. Francesco Bardella, manager of 
 two theatres at Genoa (1736), original of impresario in Act I, 3. 
 (Intriguing women), 10, 14, 23, 25, 36. (Foreigners), 21, 38, 58, 
 69, 90, 95. 
 
 Summ. 98. IL CAVALlERE DI SPIRITO (II Cavaliere di spirito 
 ossia la Donna di testa debole). Mart., 5 acts. For Albergati at 
 Zola, Summ. (Pitt., vol. X). At San Luca shortly before Jan. 
 10, 1764 (Masi, Lettere, pp. 236 & 240). First ed. 1764, vol. X, 
 Pitt. 
 
 Sources: (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 
 64, 7i, 77, 81, 84. 
 
 Aut. 99. LA VEDOVA SPIRITOSA. Mart., 5 acts. Aut. (Pitt, vol. 
 VII, 1761, which is first ed.). In prose, 3 acts, Rome, Cam., 1759 
 (ibid.) ; see 112. 
 
 Source: Marmontel, Le Scrupule, ou I' Amour mecontant de lui- 
 meme, story Gold, saw in the Mercure de France while at Parma, 
 Dec. 1756 - March 1757. (Cicisbeim), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 
 39, 43, 52, 60, 64, 71, 77, 81, 84, 98. 
 
 loo. IL PADRE PER AMORE. Mart., 5 acts. Aut. (Pasq., 
 vol. IX; Pitt., vol. IX, 1763, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Frangoise Graffigny, Cenie, which Gold, saw at Parma 
 the previous winter. An anecdote in the Recueil des causes 
 celebres (Mem. II, p. 78). Ariosto, / Suppositi. 
 
 1758. ioi. LA BELLA SELVAGGIA. Tragi-comedy (Pitt, and 
 Carn. Zatta). Mart., 5 acts. Carn. (Spinelli, Bib I. gold., p. 279; Zatta, 
 vol. 28; Pitt., vol. VII, 1761, which is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: L'Abbe Prevost, Histoire generate des voyages. Sim- 
 ilar to 66, 75, 83, 91. 
 
 102. LO SPIRITO DI CONTRADDIZIONE. Mart., 5 acts. 
 Carn. (Spinelli, Bill, gold., p. 279; Zatta, vol. XXVII; Pitt., vol. 
 IX, 1763, which is first ed.). 
 
 In Mem. II, p. 115 et seq. Gold, places 102 with 93, 104, 108, 
 no in theatrical year of his absence in Rome (1758-59). Since 
 he is in error for 93, 104, 108, he may be in error for 102. 
 
 Source: Dufresny, L'Esprit de contradiction, but see Mem. II, 
 p. 117. For II conte Alessandro, see 10, 39, 98. 
 
 103. IL RICCO INSIDIATO. Mart., 5 ants. Carn. (Spinelli, 
 
APPENDICES 619 
 
 Bibl. gold., p. 279; Delia Torre, p. 40; Mem. II, p. 95 ) First ed - 
 1761, vol. VII, Pitt. 
 
 Date in Zatta and Pitt.: Aut., 1758, improbable, because i, of 
 the 6 plays as given here for 1758-59 five are certain and one 
 very probable; 2, Gold, not likely to give more than contract re- 
 quired at a time when he was preparing to go to Rome, and 
 changing 99 and 104 into prose for perf. there. 
 
 104. LE MORBINOSE. Ven., except i role. Mart, 5 acts. 
 Ends Cam. (Mem. II, p. 118). First ed. 1761, vol. VIII, Pitt. 
 
 Number 113 derived from 104 which, therefore, precedes it. 
 Date in Pitt.: Aut., 1758, improbable, because Venetian plays end 
 Cam. Note to 97. 
 
 Sources: (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34, 47, 54, 78, 82, 87, 97. 
 
 Summ. ios.L'APATISTA o sia L'INDIFFERENTE. Mart., 5 acts. 
 For Albergati at Zola, Summ. (Pitt., vol. X). At San Luca Aut. 
 1763 (Masi, Lettere, p. 236). First ed. Jan., 1764, vol. X, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: (Men who profit by cicisbeism of women), io, 23, 39, 
 80, 84. (Cicisbeism), see 99. Apastista of the same family as 39, 
 98, 102. Cp. also 89. 
 
 T.06.LA DONNA BIZZARRA (La Donna capricdosa}. Mart., 
 5 acts. For Albergati at Zola, Summ. (Pitt., vol. X). At San 
 Luca Jan., 1759.* First ed. Jan., 1764, vol. X, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Le Misanthrope. (Pert women), u, 15, 21, 
 37, 49, 50, 56, 59, 60, 63, 67, 86, 93, 96, 99. (Gaming), 25, 34, 40, 
 54, 84. Derived from 86 (Gold.'s preface in ist ed.). 
 
 Aut. 107. LA DONNA DI GOVERNO. Mart., 5 acts. Aut. (Pitt., 
 vol. VIII, 1761, which is first ed.). One perf. only (Mem. II, p. 
 96, and Mazzoni's note). 
 
 Gold, to Vicini, July 5, 1758: " Domani vado un poco in villa 
 a respirare, dopo due commedie novellamente finite, La Donna di 
 governo e La Sposa sagace" (Rivista di Roma, Febr. 10, 1907: 
 Quattro letter e di C. G.). 
 
 Sources: (Pert women), n, 15, 21, 37, 49, 50, 56, 59, 60, 63, 67, 
 78, 86, 93, 96, 99, 106. (Intriguing women), 10, 14, 23, 25, 36, 97. 
 Chiari, La Donna di governo. J. A. Nelli, La Serva padrona. 
 
 108. LA SPOSA SAGACE. Mart., 5 acts. Oct. 13 (Gra- 
 denigo, Cod. 67, Museo Correr; note to 107). First ed. 1761, vol. 
 VIII, Pitt. 
 
 Sources: (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 
 64, 71, 77, 81, 84, 98, 105. (Neurasthenics), 51 (Ottawa), 89 (Don 
 Mauro), 90 (Mons. Guden), 108 (Petronilla). J. A. Nelli, // 
 Matrimonio per astuzia o II Viluppo. Moliere, Georges Dandin. 
 
 *Vendramin to Gold., Dec. 30, 1758: " Subito dopo 1'Epifania 
 (Jan. 8, 1759) andera in Scena la Donna capricdosa." (Manto- 
 vani, p. 77). 
 
620 APPENDICES 
 
 109. LA DALMATINA. Tragi-comedy, Mart., 5 acts. Aut. 
 (Pitt., vol. IX, 1763, which is first ed.). 
 
 Gold, in pref. to play: " E tosto terminata la recita, parti 
 per Roma." Vendramin to Gold., referring to 1758-59: " Nulla 
 piu le dico, perche ella ha veduto che la sola Dalmatina ha avuto 
 1'assenso del popolo." (Mantovani, p. 118). 
 
 Sources: According to Mem. II, p. 91, Mme. du Boccage, Les 
 Amazones ; but in // Dalmata, Aug. 8, 1891, Maddalena says " it 
 would be a mistake to insist on considering it the source of La 
 Dalmatina." Similar to 66, 75, 83, 91, 101. 
 
 1759. (106. LA DONNA BIZZARRA, which see.) Perhaps substi- 
 Carn. tuted for 116 (Note to 116 and to 106). 
 
 no. LA BUONA MADRE. Yen. Cam. (Mem. II, p. 117; 
 Delia Torre, p. 41). First ed. 1764-68, vol. IX, Pasq. 
 
 See note to 102. But letter March 15, 1759 (Mantovani, p. 97) 
 accounts for 6 plays this year, and it is improbable that Gold, 
 should not be right once in five times. Its failure in this year of 
 failures (Note to 109), increases likelihood of date assigned. 
 
 Sources: See Pasq., vol. IX, preface to play. (Upright women), 
 6, 23, 25, 26, 52, 55, 81, 82, 86. 
 
 in. I MORBINOSI. Ven., Mart., 5 acts. Ends Cam. (Man- 
 tovani: Vendramin on Dec. 30, 1758, and March 15, 1759). First 
 ed. 1763, vol. IX, Pitt. 
 
 Dec. 30: "e poi converra attendersi le due ultime settimane di 
 Febbraio per fare la recita delli Morbinosl." 
 
 March 15: " 1'aver giudicati li Morbinosl commedia non termi- 
 nata," etc. 
 
 First ed. confirms date. 
 
 Sources: (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34, 47, 54, 78, 82, 87, 97, 104. 
 
 INTERIM. 
 For the Tordinona Theatre, Rome. 
 
 1758. ii2. LA VEDOVA SPIRITOSA. Prose form of 99, in 3 
 Dec. acts. Cam. (Mem. II, pp. 101 & 107; Pitt., vol. VII). Printed 
 26. 1759, Rome. 
 
 1759. 113. LE DONNE DI BUON UMORE. Prose and Tuscan 
 Cam. form of 104, in 3 acts. Cam. (Zatta, vol. VI, 1789, which is 
 
 first ed.) 
 
 For the Capranica Theatre, Rome. 
 
 1759- 114. PAMELA MARITATA. Written before July, 1759; perf, 
 60. during 1759-60 (Mem. II, p. 109; Pasq., p. 233, vol. I, 1761, which 
 
 is first ed.). 
 
 Sources: Number 38, to which it is a sequel. (Foreigners), 21, 
 
 38, 58, 69, 90, 95, 97. 
 
 I759- 115. GLI AMORI DI ALESSANDRO MAGNO. Tragi-comedy, 
 verse, 5 acts. Sent to Vendramin from Bologna Aug. 7, 1759 
 
APPENDICES 621: 
 
 (Mantovani, p. 120). No record of perf. First ed. 1793, vol. 
 XXXI, Zatta. 
 
 Letter Aug. 21, 1759 (Mantovani, p. 122) describes series of 9 
 plays projected by Gold, during his return from Rome. Each was 
 to honour one of the Muses, while the Introduzione to this year, // 
 Monte Parnasso, presents Apollo inviting them to state how they 
 intended to entertain Venice in 1759-60. No record of a recital of 
 this Introduzione; Gold, in the Memoirs ignoring the project, and 
 starting story of present year with a description of 119. 
 
 Letter, and Introduzione (Zatta, vol. XXXI) show that to Clio 
 belongs, 115, to Terpsichore 117, to Melpomene 118, to Erato 119, to 
 Urania 122, to Calliope 121, this being order in which Gold, planned 
 them. He indicates no plays for Euterpe, Thalia, or Polymnia, re- 
 spectively 5th, 8th, and 9th in the plan, though Mantovani, giving 
 no authority, ascribes 106 to Euterpe, and 37 to Polymnia. 
 Aut. 1 1 6. LA DONNA FORTE (La Sposa fdele}. Mart., 5 acts. ^ 
 Aut. (Mantovani, letters III, IV, V, VIII, X). First ed. 1761, vol. 
 VIII, Pitt. 
 
 Belongs to 1758-59, but did not pass Censors (Mantovani, Dec. 
 30, 1758). From Rome, Jan. 27, 1759 Gold, returns play revised 
 and title changed to Sposa fidele. On March 15, 1759 Vendramin 
 again refers to 116 as not approved by Censors. Season over 
 then, therefore not perf. Aut. 1758 (Pitt.), nor Aut. 1754 (Mem. 
 II, p. 33). 
 
 Sources: Legends of "Santa Uliva, Santa Genoveffa, Cres- 
 cenzia, o sia della Fanciula o Sposa perseguitata," see 6, 44. 
 (Women who resist cicisbeism), 10, 26, 43. (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 
 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 64, 71, 77, 81, 84, 98, 99, 105, 108. 
 Don Fernando resembles lago. 
 
 117. LA SCUOLA DI BALLO. Verse in terza rima, 5 acts. 
 Before Oct. 23 (Commemoriali, Cod. Gradenigo, this date: Maz- 
 zoni, Mem. II, p. 396). See note to 115. First ed. 1792, vol. 
 XXIV, Zatta. 
 
 Sources: (Stage folk), 14, 32, 57, 97. 
 
 118. ARTEMISIA. Tragedy. Placed here because 3d in 
 series of 9, see note to 115. Not perf. (Mem. II, p. 354). First 
 ed. 1793, vol. XXXIII, Zatta. 
 
 119, GL'INNAMORATI. Aut. (Mem. II, p. 120: written in 2 
 weeks, Sept.). First ed. 1761 (sic.), vol. II, Pasq. 
 
 Sources: See Mem. II, p. 119 et seq., pp. 104, in; Carletta, 
 Dove abitb Goldoni a Roma. Fabrizio (Poloni) a social climber, 
 see 33, 59. 
 
 1760. 120. I RUSTEGHI (La Compagnia del salvadeghi ossia i 
 Carn. Rusteghi}. Ven. Feb. 16 (Gasparo Gozzi in Gazzetta veneta, 
 No. V; Pasq. vol. Ill, 1761 (sic), which is first ed.). 
 
 " Addi 16 di febbraio si vide per la prima volta questa corn- 
 media rappresentata nel teatro di San Luca, e col ripeterne le 
 rappresentazioni chiusero i comici di quella compagnia il carnovale 
 di quest' anno 1760." (Mazzoni, Mem. II, p. 386). 
 
622 APPENDICES 
 
 Sources: (Cicisbeism), 20, 21, 26, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 43, 52, 60, 
 64, 71, 81, 84, 98, 99, 105, 108, 116. (Venetian life), 10, 23, 34, 
 47, 54, 78, 82, 87, 97, 104, in. 
 
 Aut. i2i. ENEO NEL LAZIO. Tragedy. Oct. 24 (Mantovani, p. 
 131, Note 4). See note to 115. First ed. 1793, vol. XXXII, 
 Zatta. 
 
 122. ZORO ASTRO. Tragi-comedy. Nov. 29 (Mantovani, p. 
 
 131, Note 3). See note to 115. First ed. 1793, vol. XXXII, Zatta. 
 
 123. LA CASA NOVA. Ven. Dec. n (Gasparo Gozzi in 
 
 Gazzetta veneta, Dec. 13, 1760: Mazzoni, Mem. II, p. 395). First 
 
 ed. 1768, vol. X, Pasq. 
 
 Sources: (Cicisbeism), see 120. See Mem. II, p. 121. (Vene- 
 tian life), see 120. 
 
 1761. 124. LA GUERRA. Cam. (Mun. of Ven., vol. VII, p. 323: it 
 Carn. was written in 1760). First ed. 1764, vol. VI, Pasq. 
 
 Gold, in Pasq., vol. X, p. 189: L'Amante militare (50) " e nata 
 dieci anni prima dell' altra," the altra being 124. 
 
 Sources: (Militarism), 50, 72. (Serva padrona), 49, 63, 67, 
 107. (Intriguing women), 10, 14, 23, 25, 36, 97, 107. (Gaming), 
 25, 34, 40, 54, 84, 106. 
 
 125. LE BARUFFE CHIOZZOTTE. Ven. Ends Cam. (Mem. 
 II, p. 126, passage concerning beginning of Pasq. ed. ; Spinelli, 
 Fogli sparsi, p. 59). First ed. 1774, vol. XV, Pasq. 
 
 Sources: Gold.'s experience while Coadjutore at Chioggia 
 (Mem. II, p. 126, Mem. I, p. 117 et seq. (Venetian life), 10, 23, 
 34, 47, 54, 78, 82, 87, 97, i4, i", > 123. 
 
 Summ. i26.L'OSTERIA DELIA POSTA. i act. For Albergati at 
 Zola, Summ. (Pitt., vol. X, 1763, which is first ed.). 
 
 127. LE SMANIE DELLA VILLEGGIATURA. Aut. (See 
 129). First ed. 1768-74, vol. XI, Pasq. 
 
 Source: See 129. (Gaming), 25, 34, 40, 54, 84, 106, 124. 
 128. LE AVVENTURE DELLA VILLEGGIATURA. Aut. 
 (See 129). First ed. that of 127. 
 
 Source: See 129. (Gaming), 25, 34, 40, 54, 84, 106, 124, 127. 
 129. IL RITORNO DALLA VILLEGGIATURA. Aut. (Maz- 
 zoni, Note to Mem. II, p. 53, where Oct.-Nov. is specified; see note 
 to 84; Pasq. gives 1761 for 127, 1762 for 128, 1763 for 129). First 
 ed. that of 127. 
 
 Sources: (Villeggiatura), n, 49, 67, 80, 84, 127, 128. (Men 
 who profit by cicisbeism of women), 10, 23, 39, 57, 80, 84, 105, 107. 
 (Healing by mental suggestion), 90; see 42, 45, 58, 90, 128 (Act 
 I, 6) for further allusions to or characterisations of physicians. 
 (Egoism), 41, 54, 88, 89, 105. Moliere, Don Juan, ou le Festin de 
 pierre* 
 
APPENDICES 623 
 
 130. LA SCOZZESE. 5 acts. Nov. 3 (Chiari in Gazzetta ven- 
 eta, Nov. 7 and n, 1761: Mem. II, p. 405). First ed. 1774, vol. 
 XIII, Pasq. 
 
 Nov. 7, " Martedi prossimamente passato nel Teatro a S. Luca 
 rappresentata fu una nuova Commedia del sig. dottor Goldoni 
 intitolata La Scozzese" Nov. 7 falling on a Saturday. Gazzetta 
 <veneta edited by Gasparo Gozzi from Febr. 8, 1760 until Jan. 
 31, 1761 (Mem. II, p. 386), when Chiari became the editor (Neri, 
 LAteneo veneto a C. G., p. 99). 
 
 Source: Voltaire, L'Ecossalse, which in turn resembles 26 
 (Neri, Una Fonta dell' " Ecossaise " di Voltaire], and 34 (Bouvy, 
 Voltaire et I'ltalie, p. 229). (Foreigners), 21, 38, 58, 69, 90, 95, 97, 
 114. 
 
 131. SIOR TODERO (TODARO, TODORO) BRONTOLON 
 o sia IL VECCHIO FASTIDIOSO. Ven. Ends Aut. (Mazzoni, 
 Mem. II, p. 405; Zatta, vol. IX; Pasq. has Cam. 1761, which 
 may be meant for theatrical year). First ed. 1774; vol. XIV, 
 Pasq. 
 
 Sources: See Mem. II, p. 131. (Venetian life), see 125. (Pru- 
 dent women), 43, 73, no. 
 
 1762. 132. UNA DELLE ULTIME SERE DI CARNOVALE. Ven. 
 Cam. Feb. 23 (Mem. II, p. 137). First ed. after 1777, vol. XVI, Pasq. 
 
 Sources: See Mem. II, p. 137 et seq. Vendramin represented 
 
 by Zamaria, Gold, by Anzoletto. (Venetian life), 10, 23, 47, 54, 
 
 78, 82, 87, 97, 104, in, 120, 123, 125, 131. (Plays in which Gold. 
 
 is represented in a character), 45, 72, 90. (Gaming), 25, 34, 40, 
 
 54, 84, 106, 124, 127, 128. 
 
 Plays Unclassified in Regard to Date, but Belonging to 
 San Luca Period. 
 
 133. LA METEMPSICOSI ossia LA PITAGORICA TRAS- 
 MIGRAZIONE. Mart. First ed. 1793, vol. XXXI, Zatta, no date. 
 
 134. LA BELLA GIORGIANA. Tragi-comedy. First ed. 1792, 
 vol. XXVIII, Zatta, no date. 
 
 First contract with Vendramin (Note preceding 64) calls for 32 
 plays, the second for 30. Including everything, this catalogue de- 
 scribes and places 71 plays in this period. Not intended for, or 
 performed at, San Luca were 112, 113, 114 of the interim at Rome, 
 and six of the seven plays for amateurs, 106 being given profes- 
 sionally at the San Luca. Deducting, therefore, nine plays from 
 the 71, we see that the catalogue ascribes 62 plays to San Luca 
 theatre, exactly the number required by the two contracts. 
 
 The year 1754-55 seems to lack 2 plays, but 1756-57 makes up 
 one; period of ist contract, therefore, lacks one play, and either 
 133 or 134 should belong to it, legally or in fact. Period of 2d 
 contract lacks one play in 1760-61, but since article 6 of 2d con- 
 tract provides for a bonus of 200 ducats a year payable to Gold, 
 if he fulfils all the terms of this contract, it is almost certain that 
 either 133 or 134 belongs to 1760-61. And of these two 134 is the 
 
624 APPENDICES 
 
 more probable, since it is a tragi-comedy, the two years of 1759-61 
 being a time of tragedies and tragi-comedies. 
 
 For the Come die Ital'icnne, Paris; the San Luca Theatre, 
 Venice; the Comedie Franqaise, Paris. 
 
 Unless otherwise stated, the plays here described were given at 
 the Comedie Italienne. The improvised comedies are not in 
 print. 
 
 Correspondence between Gold, and Vendramin from May 2, 
 1763 until June 23, 1763 (Mantovani), establishes existence of 
 new understanding, modifying contract of March 2, 1762, and al- 
 lowing him to use any comedy he may write for the Comedie 
 Italienne for the filling of his obligations to San Luca, rewriting 
 such plays, of course, "to fit the actors of the San Luca, and 
 Italian usage." 
 
 During time between Gold.'s arrival in Paris, Aug. 26, 1762, and 
 Feb. 4, 1763, numbers 17 and 47 (the latter under title Les Caquets 
 des femmes and transl. by Francesco Riccoboni and his wife: 
 Mun. of Ven., vol. VI, p. 502) had long runs at the Comedie 
 Italienne (Masi, Lettere, Sept. 6 and Oct. 25; Mantovani, p. 160; 
 Mem. II, p. 159). 
 
 1763. 135. L'AMORE PATERNO o sia LA SERVA RICONOS- 
 CENTE. 2 masks and a Scapino. Feb. 4 (Pasq., vol. V: Gold.'s 
 letter Feb. 14, 1763, " Finalmente la Commedia ando in iscena il 
 dl 4 di questo mese."). First ed. 1763, vol. V, Pasq. 
 
 Number 135 surreptitiously perf. in Venice. This appears from 
 Gold.'s letter Feb., 1763: "So, che dalP estratto hanno fatto una 
 nuova Commedia, che 1'hanno promessa al Pubblico come cosa 
 mia, ed a quest' ora rappresentata." ; and from Vendramin's let- 
 ter Feb. 26, 1763: "Alii comuni ed universali applausi di tutti, 
 si in Parigi, come in Venezia, per la buona riuscita della prima 
 sua fatica, etc." (Mantovani). Hence Gold, insists on modifica- 
 tion of 3d contract with Vendramin; see note to title of this di- 
 vision. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Le Depit amoureux, Le Misanthrope. (Plays 
 * in which Gold, is represented in a character), 45, 72, 90, 132 
 
 (See first ed. of 135, p. 270). (Servetta roles), 49, 55, 63, 67, 78, 
 107. 
 
 136. LA FORZA DEL SANGUE o sia ARLECCHINO CRE- 
 DUTO MORTO. Improvised comedy, i act. Feb. 7 (Masi, Let- 
 tere, Feb. 28, 1763: "Su la quarta recita del 135 ho aggiunto 
 una commedia a soggetto d'un atto solo. E intitolato La Forza 
 del sangue"). 
 
 137. ARLEQUIN VALET DE DEUX MAITRES. Number 16 
 adapted to French taste. March 4 (Masi, Lettere, Gold, to Cornet, 
 Feb. 28, 1763). 
 
 138. ARLECCHINO, EREDE RIDICOLO (Arlequin, heritier 
 ridicule}. Improvised comedy, 5 acts. Before April 18 (Masi, 
 Lettere, April 18, 1763). 
 
APPENDICES 625 
 
 Source: Number 103 (Masi, ibid.). 
 
 139. IL VENTAGLIO. Between April 18 and June 13 (Masi, 
 Letter e, these dates, on first of which Gold, says: "Credo che si 
 dara in questo mese." Sent to Vendramin Nov. 27, 1764 (Manto- 
 vani, p. 224). First ed. 1789, vol. IV, Zatta. 
 
 Sources: Numbers 69, 87, 125 (Mantovani, ibid.). 
 
 140. I DUE FRATELLI RIVALI. Improvised comedy, i act. 
 Before June 13 (Masi, Lettere, p. 213: 139 " e troppo inviluppata 
 per Pabilita di questi comici. Sono stato risarcito dai Due Fra- 
 telli rivali"). 
 
 141. LE DUE ITALIANE. Written before July u (Masi, 
 Lettere, p. 220). Not perf. (Mem. II, p. 350; Masi, Scelta di 
 comm., vol. II, p. 463). Lost. 
 
 July n, 1763: " Ne ho fatta una per qui, intitolata Les Deux 
 Italiennes, ma tutta scritta, avendo protestato a questi signori di 
 non voler piu fare commedie a soggetto." And Aug. 15: "Ma 
 non hanno ancora imparato 141 ." 
 
 142. IL MATRIMONIO PER CONCORSO. Sent to Vendramin 
 on or before July 11 (Mantovani, p. 190; Masi, Lettere, p. 220). 
 Perf. in Italy; Summ. (Mantovani, p. 193, Note i). First ed. 1778, 
 vol. XIV, Sav. 
 
 Sources: Probably 141 rewritten (Masi, Scelta di comm., vol. 
 II, p. 462). (Merchants), 14, 26, 58, 120. (Foreigners), 21, 38, 
 58, 69, 90, 95, 97, 114, 124, 130. 
 
 143. GLI AMORI DI ARLECCHINO E DI CAMILLA. Im- 
 provised comedy. Sept. 27 (Bachaumont, Memoir es secrets, vol. I, 
 p. 282: Rabany, p. 379; Masi, Lettere, Oct. 3, 1763: " Oggi otto, 
 ho dato al pubblico una commedia intitolata Les Amours d'Arle- 
 quin et de Camille."}. Sent under title GLI AMORI DI ZELINDA 
 E LINDORO to Vendramin before Oct. 21, 1764 (Mantovani, pp. 
 J 97> J 99> 2I 3) i n written form. First ed. 1788, vol. I, Zatta. 
 
 Sources: Moliere, Le Cocu imaginaire. (Upright women), 6, 
 23, 25, 26, 52, 55, 81, 82, no. Bartoli, p. xxxix, gives title of 
 scenario, Gil Amori di Arlecchino, perf. Paris, 1746. 
 
 144. LA GELOSIA DI ARLECCHINO. Improvised comedy. 
 Between Sep. 27 and Dec. 20 (See 143 and 145). Sent under 
 title LA GELOSIA DI LINDORO to Vendramin Oct.-Nov., 1764 
 (Mantovani, letters XLVI & XL VII) in written form. First ed. 
 1789, vol. Ill, Zatta. 
 
 Sources: Number 143, to which it is a sequel. Moliere, Le 
 Cocu imaginaire. 
 
 .145. LE INQUIETUDINI DI CAMILLA. Improvised comedy. 
 Dec. 20 (Masi, Lettere, Dec. 27, 1763: "La terza Commedia e 
 andata in scena oggi otto passato."). Sent under title LE IN- 
 QUIETUDINI DI ZELINDA to Vendramin, Oct.-Nov., 1764 
 
626 APPENDICES 
 
 (Mantovani, Jan. 17, Oct. 21, Nov. 4, Nov. 7, 1764) in written 
 form. First ed. 1788, vol. II, Zatta. 
 
 Sources: Numbers 143, 144, to which it is a sequel. Moliere, 
 Le Cocu imaginaire. 
 
 1764. 146. CAMILLE AUBERGISTE. Improvised comedy, 2 acts, 4 
 roles. After Feb. 6 (Masi, Letter e, Feb. 6, 1764: " Quanto prima 
 si dara una mia commedia intitolata 146 "), and probably May 
 i (Desboulmiers, who says it had 3 acts). 
 
 Source: Number 59. In letter last quoted Gold, indicates how 
 146 differs from 59. 
 
 i 47 ._L'INGANNO VENDICATO (Arlequin dupe vengee, La 
 Dupe vengee). Improvised comedy. Followed 146 (Grimm, Part 
 
 I, vol. IV, p. 121 ). 
 
 148. LA BURLA RETROCESSA NEL CONTRACCAMB1O. 
 For Albergati. Sent April 31 (Masi, Lettere, April 31, 1764). 
 Lost; but see 153. 
 
 Source: Number 147 (Masi, Scelta di comm., vol. II, p. 463). 
 
 149. IL RITRATTO D'ARLECCHINO (Le Portrait d'Arle- 
 quin}. Improvised comedy, 2 acts. Before Sept. 24 (Masi, Let- 
 tere, Sept. 24, 1764: "Tre commedie ho dato ultimamente, Le 
 Portrait d 'Arlequin, Le Rendez-vous nocturne e I'Inimite d' Arlequin 
 et de Scapin."}. Sent under title GLI AMANTI TIMIDI o sia 
 L'IMBROGLIO DE' DUE RITRATTI to Vendramin, end of 
 1764 (Rabany, p. 236; Mem. II, p. 202; Mantovani, letters be- 
 tween Oct. 21, 1764, and Jan. 10, 1765), in written form, 3 acts. 
 First ed. after 1777, vol. XVII, Pasq. 
 
 Source: "Ella potrebbe passare per una Commedia Spagnuola, 
 perche tutto il merito consiste negli equivoci, e nelP intreccio." 
 (Gold, in Pasq., vol. XVII, p. 236). 
 
 150. L'APPUNTAMENTO NOTTURNO (Le Rendez-vou; 
 nocturne), i act, and 
 
 151. L'INIMICIZIA D'ARLECCHINO E DI SCAPINO 
 (L'Inimite d' Arlequin et de Scapin), 2 acts. Two improvised 
 comedies, written before Sept. 24 (Masi, Lettere, p. 256). 
 
 152. LES METAMORPHOSES D'ARLEQUIN. Improvised 
 comedy. Oct. 29 (Mazzoni, Mem. II, note to p. 165). 
 
 153. CHI LA FA L'ASPETTA o sia LA BURLA VENDICATA 
 NEL CONTRACCAMBIO FRA'I CHIASSETTI DEL CAR- 
 NEVAL (/ Chiassetti e spassetti de carneval de Venezia). Ven. 
 Given to Vendramin Jan. 10, 1765 (Mantovani, p. 233; letters 
 of Dec. 17, 1764, and Jan. 3, 1765, ibid.). First ed. 1789, vol. V, 
 Zatta. 
 
 Sources: Numbers 147, 148 (Masi, Scelta di comm., vol. II, p. 
 463). (Venetian life), 10, 23, 47, 54, 78, 82, 87, 97, 104, HI, 120, 
 123, 125, 131, 132. 
 
APPENDICES 627 
 
 Other Plays, unclassified in Regard to Dates, but performed 
 at the Comedie Italienne between 1762 and 1764. 
 
 See Mem. II, p. 350, and Rabany, p. 234, who quotes vol. Ill, p 
 210 of the Anecdotes dramatiques. 
 
 154. LA FAMIGLIA IN DISCORDIA (La Famille en dis- 
 corde). Improvised comedy, i act. 
 
 155. ARLEQUIN COMPLAISANT. Improvised comedy. 
 
 156. L'AMITIE D'ARLEQUIN ET DE SCAPIN. Ditto. 
 
 157. ARLEQUIN PHILOSOPHE. Ditto. 
 
 158. ARLECCHINO E CAMILLA, SCHIAVI IN BARBARIA 
 (Arlequin et Camille, esclaves en Barbarie). Improvised comedy, 
 3 acts " avec un divertissement." 
 
 159. ARLECCHINO CARBONAIO (Arlequin charbonnier). 
 Improvised comedy, i act. 
 
 1 60. L'ANELLO MAGICO (La Bague magique). Improvised 
 comedy, 2 acts (Mem. II, p. 350), or 3 acts (Almanack des spec- 
 tacles of 1770). Toldo, Tre commedie francese inedite di C. G., 
 thinks it is same as, or similar to, 144. 
 
 161. L'EPOUSE PERSANE. Source: Number 66. See Rabany, 
 P- 233- 
 
 Received, but not produced, by the Comedie Italienne, besides 14.1 
 already described, and 170 (Rabany, p. 234; Mem. II, p. 355). 
 
 162. LA SCHIAVA GENEROSA (UEsclave genereuse, ou la 
 Generosite de Camille) . " Comedie en trois actes." 
 
 163. LES MARCHANDS. Possibly 58 rewritten. 
 
 164. SCAPIN JALOUX. Improvised comedy. 
 
 165. LES RUSES INNOCENTES DE CAMILLE. Ditto. 
 . 166. LE GONDOLIER, AMI D'ARLEQUIN. Ditto. 
 
 167. TAL PADRONA, TAL SERVA (Telle maitresse, telle 
 suivante). "Comedie en cinq actes, en prose." 
 
 !68. I NASTRI DI COLOR ROSA (Les Noeuds de couleur de 
 rose). "Comedie en un acte, en prose." 
 
 169. LA GUERRA DE' BERGAMASCHI (La Guerre des 
 Bergamasques). "Comedie a spectacle, en cinq actes, en prose." 
 
 1768. 170. IL GENIO BUONO E IL GENIO CATTIVO. 5 acts, 
 2 masks. Given to Comedie Italienne before Nov., 1764 (Manto- 
 vani, p. 220), but not performed there (Rabany, p. 234). At 
 San Crisostomo theatre, Venice, Carn. 1768-69 (Masi, Scelta di 
 comm., vol. II, p. 572; Delia Torre, p. 43; Mem. II, p. 205). 
 First ed. 1793, vol. XXXIV, Zatta. 
 
628 APPENDICES 
 
 Source: Carlo Gozzi, Le Fiabe teatrali. 
 
 1771. 171. LE CINQUE ETA D'ARLECCHINO (Les Cinq ages 
 d'Arlequin}. Improvised comedy "a spectacle," 5 acts. Sept. 27 
 (Grimm, Part II, vol. II, p. 57). 
 
 I7 2_LE BOURRU BIENFAISANT. French prose. Comedie 
 Franchise, Nov. 4 (Grimm, Part II, vol. II, p. 69; Mem. II, p. 
 221). First ed. 1771, Veuve Duchesne, Paris. 
 
 Another French ed. 1771, Veuve Duchesne, Paris, contains a 
 transl. into It., translator unknown. A transl. by Pietro Candoni 
 was published 1772, vol. XIII, Sav., under title // Burbero bene- 
 fico o sia il Bisbetico di buon cuore. An It. version which is 
 in Composizioni teatrali moderne tradotte da Elisabetta Caminer, 
 was perf. at the Sant' Angelo, Venice, during Cam. 1772 under 
 title // Collerico di buon cuore. Finally a transl., or rather a 
 version, by Gold, was published in 1789, Veuve Duchesne, Paris, 
 under title // Burbero di buon cuore. (Spinelli, Bibl. gold., pp. 
 128 and 244; Malamani, Nuovi appunti e curiosita goldoniane, p. 
 154 et seq.). 
 
 Sources: Numbers 123, 131. Not impossible that first germ of 
 172 is Freeport in Voltaire, L'Ecossaise; but gruff men with sus- 
 ceptible hearts can be found in several other plays, in 59, 120, 125 
 for instance. 
 
 1776. 173. L'AVARE FASTUEUX. French prose. The Court, Fon- 
 tainebleau, Nov. 14 (Rabany, p. 251), its failure there indefinitely 
 deferring perf. at Comedie Frangaise. Gold, withdrew 172 on 
 Nov. 22 (Rabany, p. 304). Written in 1772 (Spinelli, Fogli 
 spar si, p. 122). First ed. (Transl. into Italian, 5 acts), 1789, 
 vol. IX, Zatta. 
 
 Sources: (Avarice), 41, 58, 64, 88, 96. Moliere, L'Avare, Le 
 Bourgeois gentilhomme. (Social climbing), 33, 59, 119. 
 
 2. BOOKS FOR OPERAS, LIGHT OPERAS, AND 
 INTERLUDES. 
 
 Unless otherwise indicated, these plays for music are in verse, 
 have 3 acts, and were first perf. in Venice. Under the term " light 
 opera " is included what Gold, calls Dramma giocoso, Dramma 
 comico, and Commedia per musica. "Interlude" has been adopted 
 as the English for Intermezzo. The light operas being in the 
 majority, they have not been pointed out as such. Of the many 
 composers who wrote scores for Gold.'s books, Baldassare Galuppi 
 has twenty-one to his credit, Cimarosa has two (25, 49), Paisiello 
 three (36, 42, 47), Haydn four (42, 46, 55, 63), Johann Christian 
 Bach one (56), and Mozart one (83). 
 
 1730. i. IL BUON PADRE o IL BUON VECCHIO. Interlude 
 (Pasq., vol. IX, p. 10 ; Musatti, Drammi musicali di C. G.), prose 
 (sic: Mem. II, p. 343), Feltre (Amateurs). Acts? Lost. 
 2. LA CANTATRICE. Interlude, 2 acts, ibid. (Amateurs). 
 
APPENDICES 629 
 
 1732. 3. AMALASUNTA. Opera (tragedy for music), not perf., 
 burned. 
 
 1733 . 4 ._ IL GONDOLIERE (BARCAROLO) VENEZIANO o sia 
 GLI SDEGNI AMOROSI. Interlude, Ven., 2 acts, Aut., Milan, 
 Vitali troupe. First play by Gold. perf. professionally. 
 
 1734. 5. LA PUPILLA. Interlude, San Samuele. 
 6. LA PELARINA. Interlude, ibid. 
 
 I 735- 7. ARISTIDE. Interlude, Aut., ibid. 
 
 8. L'IPPOCONDRIACO. Interlude, Aut., ibid. 
 
 9. LA BIRBA. Interlude, a acts, at 5th perf. of Rosmonda 
 (A, i, 4), ibid. 
 
 10. GRISELDA. Opera, Ascension, ibid. Adapted from Gri- 
 selda by Zeno and Pariati. 
 
 ii. LA BOTTEGA DEL GAFFE. Interlude. Perf. not certain 
 before 1743, Milan (Mem. I, Note to p. 254). Zatta gives Venice, 
 
 1735- 
 
 12. LA FONDAZIONE DI VENEZIA. Interlude, i act, Oct. 
 4, San Samuele. 
 
 13. CESARE IN EGITTO. Opera, Aut., S. Giov. Crisostomo. 
 Doubt of authorship. 
 
 1736. 14. LA GENEROSITA POLITICA. Opera, Ascension, San 
 Samuele. 
 
 15. PISISTRATO. ?. No record of perf. (Zatta gives Ascen- 
 sion), nor of music. 
 
 1 6. L'AMANTE CABALA. Interlude, Aut., San Samuele. 
 17. MONSIEUR PETITON. Interlude, ibid. 
 
 1737 . 18. LUCREZIA ROMANA IN CONSTANTINOPOLI. Cam., 
 ibid. 
 
 1739. 19. GERMONDO. Interlude, Cam., Venice. London, Hay- 
 market, 1776. 
 
 1740. 20. GUSTAVO PRIMO, RE DI SVEZIA. Opera, Ascension, 
 San Samuele. 
 
 2i._ ORONTE, RE DE' SCITI. Opera, Dec. 26, S. Giov. Cris- 
 ostomo. 
 
 1741. 22. LA STATIRA. Opera, Ascension, San Samuele (?). 
 23. AMOR FA L'UOMO CIECO. Interlude, Cam., Filar- 
 
 monico theatre, Verona. 
 
 24. TIGRANE. Opera, Aut, S. Giov. Crisostomo. Adapted 
 from book by B. Vittori. 
 1743. 25. LA CONTESSINA. Jan., San Samuele. 
 
 26. LA FAVOLA DE' TRE GOBBI. Interlude, 2 acts, Cam., 
 San Moise. 
 
 27. IL QUARTIERE FORTUNATO. Interlude. Related to 
 L'Amante militare (A, i, 50), and belonging to period 1734-44 
 (Mun. of Ven., vol. VII, p. 324). 
 
6 3 o APPENDICES 
 
 1746. 28. LA VEDOVA ACCORTA. Jan., S. Cassiano. 
 
 1747. 29. LA MAESTRA. Aut., Formagliari theatre, Bologna. 
 30. LA CADUTA D'AMULIO. Opera, Cam., Sant' Angelo. 
 
 Authorship uncertain. 
 
 31. L'ARCADIA IN BRENTA. Teatro Brocchi e Cortellotti, 
 Bassano. 
 
 1748. 32. LA SCUOLA MODERNA o sia LA MAESTRA DI BUON 
 GUSTO. Aut., San Moise. Adapted. 
 
 1749- 33- IL CONTE CARAMELLA. Aut., theatre of Accademia 
 Vecchia, Verona. 
 
 34. LA MAESTRA DI SCUOLA. Aut, "nuovo teatro 
 dietro la Rena," Verona. 
 
 35. IL FINTO PRINCIPE. Aut, S. Cassiano. From old 
 scenario. 
 
 36. IL NEGLIGENTE. Oct., San Moise. 
 
 37. ARCIFANFANO, RE DEI MATTI. Dec. 27, ibid. 
 
 38. BERTOLDO, BERTOLDINO E CACASENNO. Cam., 
 ibid. 
 
 1750. 39. IL PAESE DELLA CUCCAGNA. Ascension, ibid. 
 40. IL MONDO ALLA ROVERSA (A ROVESCIO) o sia LE 
 
 DONNE CHE COMANDANO. Burlesque, Aut, S. Cassiano. 
 From old scenario. 
 
 41. IL FILOSOFO DI CAMPAGNA (La Serva astuta). 
 Opera, Cam., Ducal theatre, Milan. 
 
 42. IL MONDO DELLA LUNA. Cam., San Moise. 
 
 1751 . 43. LE DONNE VENDICATE. Cam., S. Cassiano. 
 44. LA MASCHERATA. Cam., ibid. 
 
 1752. 45. I PORTENTOSI EFFETTI DELLA MADRE NATURA. 
 Aut., San Samuele. 
 
 46. LE PESCATRICI. Cam., ibid. 
 47. LE VIRTUOSE RIDICOLE. Ibid. 
 
 1753. 48. I BAGNI D'ABANO. Cam., ibid. 
 
 49. LA CALAMITA DEI CUORI. Feb., ibid. 
 50. DE GUSTIBUS NON EST DISPUTANDUM. Dec. 27, 
 S. Cassiano. 
 
 1754. 51. LI MATTI PER AMORE. Jan. 17 (?), San Samuele. 
 1 755- 52- LE NOZZE. Summ., Marsigli-Rossi theatre, Bologna. 
 
 53. LA DIAVOLESSA. Nov., San Samuele. 
 
 54. IL POVERO SUPERBO. Cam., ibid. From La Castalda 
 (A, i, 49). 
 
 55. LO SPEZIALE. Cam., ibid. 
 1756. 56. LA CASCINA. Cam., ibid. 
 
 57. LA RITORNATA DA LONDRA. Cam., ibid. 
 
 58. LA CANTARINA. Interlude, Cam., Capranica theatre, 
 Rome. 
 

 APPENDICES 631 
 
 59. IL MATRIMONIO DISCORDE. Interlude, Cam., ibid. 
 
 60. LA BUONA FIGLIUOLA. Dec. 26 (Spinelli, Fogli sparsi, 
 
 p. 43), Ducal theatre, Parma. From Pamela nubile (A, i, 38). 
 
 1757. 61. IL TESTING. Cam., Ducal theatre, Parma. From // 
 Festino (A, i, 71). 
 
 62. I VIAGGIATORI RIDICOLI. Cam., Ducal theatre, 
 Parma. 
 
 63. L'ISOLA DISABITATA. Aut., San Samuele. 
 64. IL MERCATO DI MALMANTILE. Dec. 26, ibid. 
 
 1758. 65. IL SIGNOR DOTTORE. Aut., San Moise. 
 
 66. LA CONVERSAZIONE. Aut., Carignano theatre, Turin. 
 67. BUOVO D'ANTONA. Cam. (Dec. 26?), San Moise. 
 
 1759. 68. IL CONTE CHICCHERA. Aut., Ducal theatre, Milan. 
 69. IL CIARLATANO. Aut., San Samuele. 
 
 70. LI UCCELLATORI. Cam. (Dec. 26?), San Moise. 
 71. LE DONNE RIDICOLE. Interlude, Cam. (Dec. 26?), 
 Valle theatre, Rome. 
 
 1760. 72. AMOR CONTADINO. Nov. 12, Sant' Angelo. 
 73. FILOSOFIA ED AMORE. Cam., San Moise. 
 
 74. LA VENDEMMIA. Cam., Capranica theatre, Rome. 
 75. LA FIERA DI SINIGAGLIA. Cam., ibid. 
 76. AMOR ARTIGIANO. Dec. 26, Sant' Angelo. 
 
 1761. 77. LA BUONA FIGLIUOLA MARITATA. May, Formigliari 
 theatre, Bologna. From Pamela maritata (A, i, 114). 
 
 78. AMORE IN CARICATURA. Cam., Sanr* Angelo. 
 79. IL VIAGGIATOR RIDICOLO. Cam., San Moise. 
 
 1762. 80. LA BELLA VERITA. June 12, Marsigli-Rossi theatre, 
 Bologna. 
 
 1763. 81. IL RE ALLA CACCIA. Aut, San Samuele. 
 
 Gold.'s indication of sources: Sedaine, Le Roi et le fermier; 
 Charles Colle, La Partle de chasse d'Henri IV (1766, sic). Both 
 of these from Dodsley, The King and the Miller of Mansfield. 
 All of them from Calderon, El Alcalde de Zalamea. See Mem. 
 II, p. 211. 
 
 1764. 82. LA DONNA DI GOVERNO. Aut., San Moise. From La 
 Donna dl governo (A, i, 107). 
 
 83. LA FINTA SEMPLICE. Cam., ibid. 
 
 1766. 84. LA CAMERIERA SPIRITOSA. Aut., Ducal theatre, 
 Milan. 
 
 85. LA NOTTE CRITICA. Cam., S. Catsiano. From Le 
 Rendez-vous nocturne (A, i, 150). See Spinelli, Fogli sparsi, p. 
 64. And A, i, 13. 
 
 1767. 86. L'ASTUZIA FELICE. Aut., San Moise. 
 
 17 68. 87. LE NOZZE IN CAMPAGNA. Aut., ibid. 
 1777. 88. I VOLPONI. Date in doubt. Zatta gives 1777. 
 
 89. L'ISOLA DI BENGODI. Aut., 2 acts, San Moise. 
 
632 APPENDICES 
 
 1779- 9- IL TALISMANO. Aut., " nuovo teatro alia Cannobiana," 
 
 Milan. 
 1782. 91. VITTORINA. For Haymarket theatre, London. Date in 
 
 doubt, Zatta giving 1782. From Mem. II, pp. 210 & 211, one would 
 
 conclude that its date is about 1770. 
 
 With La Bouillotte (Mem. II, p. 215) Gold, got no farther than 
 
 the Canevas and a few abortive attempts at writing French verse. 
 
 It was intended as a two-act light opera for the Opera Comique of 
 
 Paris. 
 
 Books unclassified In Regard to Dates. 
 
 92. IL DISINGANNO IN CORTE. " Rappresentazione in due 
 parti." Allegorical, 5 roles. In vol. XXVI, Zatta. 
 
 93. IL FILOSOFO. " Intermezzo di due parti per musica." In 
 vol. XXXV, Zatta. It is not 41, which has 3 acts, and is in vol. 
 XLIII, Zatta. 
 
 94. LO SPOSO BURLATO. Dramma giocoso da rappresen- 
 tarsi la primavera del 1778 nel teatro dell' Ill. mo Pubblico della 
 Citta di Carpi. Book in possession of sig. Vito Vitali. (See A. 
 G. Spinelli, Modena a C. G., p. 301 et seq.) 
 
 3. CANTATAS AND SERENATAS. 
 
 1740 . i. LA NINFA SAGGIA. Cantata, 2 voices, Ospitale della 
 Pieta, Venice. 
 
 2. GLI AMANTI FELICI. Cantata, 3 voices, ibid. 
 3. LE QUATTRO STAGIONI. Cantata, 4 voices, ibid. Date 
 of i, 2, 3 probably 1740; see preface, p. 8, vol. XVI, Pasq. 
 
 1741. 4. IL CORO DELLE MUSE (Le Nove muse). Serenata, 2 
 parts, ibid., middle of Lent (Pasq., vol. XVI, p. 8). 
 
 1744. 5. LA PACE CONSOLATA. Cantata for wedding of Arch- 
 duchess Marianna (Maria Theresa's sister) with Carlo Alessan- 
 dro di Lorena, Jan. 7, theatre of Rimini. 
 
 1752. 6. L'AMORE DELLA PATRIA. Serenata, 2 parts, written 
 for the ceremony of raising to throne of the Doges, Francesco 
 Loredan. Venice. 
 
 1758. 7 L'ORACOLO DEL VATICANO. Cantata, 3 voices, 2 parts, 
 written for the ceremony of inducting to the dignity of the Car- 
 dinalship, Marino Priuli, Bishop of Vicenza. 
 
 1759 . 8. L'UNZIONE DI DAVIDDE. "Azione di due parti per 
 musica." In vol. XXXVI, Zatta. See Spinelli, Fogli sparsi, pp. 
 51 and 56, and Modena a C. G., p. 301. 
 
 Regarding Sanctus Petrus Urseolus, oratorio printed in Venice, 
 1733, and attributed to Gold., see Modena a C. G., p. 301. 
 
 4. MISCELLANEA. 
 1726. i. IL QUARESIMALE IN EPILOGO DEL M. R. P. GIACO- 
 
APPENDICES 633 
 
 MO CATTANEO IN UDINE. Sonetti di Carlo Goldoni. Udine. 
 
 Copy in the Bibl. Civ., Venice. 
 1732. 2. L'ESPERIENZA DEL PASSATO FATTA ASTROLOGO 
 
 DELL' AVVENIRE. Almanacco critico per I'anno 1732. Venice. 
 1749 . 3 . PROLOGO APOLOGETICO ALLA COMMEDIA LA VE- 
 
 DOVA SCALTRA CONTRO LE CRITICHE CONTENUTE 
 
 NELLA COMMEDIA INTITOLATA LA SCUOLA DELLA 
 
 VEDOVE. Nov. 
 
 1753- 4- L' INTRODUZIONE COMICA o sia APERTURA DI 
 TEATRO PER L'ANNO 1753. Oct. First ed. 1757, vol. I, Pitt. 
 
 1754- 5. INTRODUZIONE IN PROSA ALLE RECITE DELL' 
 AUTUNNO DELL' ANNO 1754. Oct. 7. First ed. 1757, vol. 
 Ill, Pitt. 
 
 Source: Sior Zamaria della Bragola in numbers 4 and 5 imi- 
 tated from Monsieur de la Thorilliere in Moliere, L'Impromptu 
 de Versailles. 
 
 1755. 6. INTRODUZIONE PER LA PRIMA SERA DELL' AU- 
 TUNNO DELL' ANNO 1755. First ed. 1758, vol. V, Pitt. 
 
 ? 7. LA GARA TRA LA COMMEDIA E LA MUSICA. IN- 
 
 TRODUZIONE. First ed. Drammi, vol. XVI, Prato. 
 
 1759. 8. IL MONTE PARNASSO. INTRODUZIONE. First ed. 
 1759, Pitt, (separate). 
 
 1764. 9. DELLI COMPONIMENTI DIVERSI DI CARLO GOL- 
 DONI, AVVOCATO VENETO. Pasq., 2 vols. Contains 72 num- 
 bers of occasional verse. 
 
 1787. io. MEMOIRES DE M. GOLDONI POUR SERVIR A L'HIS- 
 TOIRE DE SA VIE ET A CELLE DE SON THEATRE. Dedies 
 au Roi. Veuve Duchesne, 3 vols., Paris. 
 
 1791. ii. STORIA DI MISS JENNY SCRITTA E ADDIRIZZATA 
 DALLA MEDESIMA A MILEDY CONTESSA DI ROSCO- 
 MOND, AMBASCIATRICE DELLA CORTE DI FRANCIA A 
 QUELLA DI DANIMARCA. Opera di Madame Riccoboni 
 (Maria Laboras di Mezieres) celebre contante francese. Tradu- 
 zione arbitraria del sig. Aw.* Carlo Goldoni. Antonio Curti q. 
 Giacomo, 2 vols., Venice. (Masi, Lett ere, p. 304; Spinelli, Fogli 
 spar si, p. 107; Mazzoni, Mem. II, p. 465). 
 
 5. ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS OF GOLDONI'S WORKS. 
 (a) COMEDIES. 
 
 1756. i. PAMELA (A, i, 38). A Comedy by Charles Goldoni trans- 
 lated into English with the Italian original. London. Printed for 
 J. Nourse at the Lamb opposite Catherine Street in the Strand. 
 MDCCLVI. 
 
 1757. 2. THE FATHER OF A FAMILY (A, i, 27). A comedy acted 
 for the first time at Venice during the carnival of 1750, by Charles 
 
634 APPENDICES 
 
 Goldoni, translated into English with the Italian original. Lon- 
 don. Printed for J. Nourse at the Lamb opposite Catherine Street 
 in the Strand. MDCCLVII. 
 
 1761. 3. THE LIAR (A, i, 35). Translated by Samuel Foote. Perf. 
 1761 (Maddalena in Nota storica to 35, vol. IV, Mun. of Ven.). 
 
 1785. 4. CURIOSITY OR A PEEP THROUGH THE KEYHOLE 
 (A, i, 60). Title in Biographia dramatica, vol. II, p. 147: Mad- 
 dalena, Le Traduzioni del " Ventaglio," p. 73. Perf. Dublin, 1785. 
 Not printed. 
 
 1805. 5. THE SHE-INN-KEEPER OR THE LANDLADY (A, i, 59). 
 A Comedy by Master Charles Goldoni, a Venetian Lawyer. 
 Translated from the Italian original By the scolar Mr. Gabriel 
 Pinckerle, 1805, with the help of his Master Sir F. Mahait at 
 Trieste (Venice, Bibl. Naz. di S. Marco, Ms. 6502, Cl. IX, Cod. 
 CDLXXXI, LXXII, 9). 
 
 Text of transl. preceded by letter (Venice, Dec., 1883) by James 
 Pinckerle, son of translator, in which, on occasion of unveiling 
 of Gold.'s statue, he offers the library of Saint Mark two un- 
 published Mss., containing English versions of La Locandiera (59) 
 and // Matrimonio per concorso (142) translated from the original 
 texts in the years 1805 and 1806 (Maddalena, La Fortuna della 
 "Locandiera," p. 728). 
 
 6. AVARICE AND OSTENTATION (A, i, 173). With Life 
 of Goldoni and Remarks. In The TJieatrical Recorder, by Thomas 
 Holcroft. London, Paternoster Row, vol. I, 1805. 
 
 1814. 7. THE WORD OF HONOR (A, i, 144). Transl. by John 
 Gait. In The New British Theatre, a selection of original dramas, 
 not yet acted: with critical remarks by the editor. Vol. I, 1814. 
 London, Henry Colburn, Hanover Square. 
 
 8. LOVE, HONOR AND INTEREST (A, i, 95). Transl. by 
 John Gait, ibid., vol. Ill, 1814. 
 
 ? 9. THE SERVANT OF TWO MASTERS (A, i, 16). " Le 
 
 varie riduzioni del 16 " (Maddalena, Le Traduzioni del " Ven- 
 taglio," p. 73). 
 
 !8 4 9. io. AN ODD MISTAKE (A, i, 95). n. THE MOROSE 
 GOOD MAN (A, i, 172). In Select Comedies. D. Appleton & 
 Co., New York, 1849. 
 
 Entered at library of British Museum as 11714.66.13; but Messrs. 
 Appleton & Co., upon inquiry, write that they have no record of 
 this publication. 
 
 1856. 12. THE MISTRESS OF THE HOTEL (A, i, 59). A Comedy 
 in three acts by Carlo Goldoni. Translated from the Italian by 
 Thomas Williams. London. Printed by R. S. Francis, Catherine 
 Street, Strand, 1856. Transl. parallel with Italian text, and made 
 for perf. of Sig. a Ristori. 
 
 1892. 13. A CURIOUS MISHAP (A, i, 95). 14. THE BENEFI- 
 CENT BEAR (A, i, 172). 15. THE FAN (A, i, 139). 16. 
 
APPENDICES 635 
 
 THE SPENDTHRIFT MISER (A, i, 173). The (sic) Comedies 
 of Carlo Goldoni edited with an Introduction by Helen Zimmern. 
 In Collections of Masterpieces of Foreign Authors. London, David 
 Scott, 1892. 
 
 In answer to inquiry by Professor Maddalena, Helen Zimmern 
 says: "I do not remember where I got those translations (See 
 A, 53: 10, ii, 6). I have a dim idea that I found them and re- 
 vised them." Number 15 made from Ritter's " scelleratissima " 
 German transl. (Maddalena, Le Traduzioni del " Ventaglio" 
 p. 69). 
 
 1894. 17. THE HOSTESS (A, i, 59). Perf. June 26, 1894, at the 
 Avenue Theatre, London. It appears to be a transl. of the acting 
 version used by Eleonora Duse. 
 
 1897. 18. OUR HOSTESS (A, i, 59). An English Version of Gol- 
 doni's La Locandiera, by A. O'D. Bartholeyns. Perf. at Theatre 
 Royal, Kilburn, April 5th, 1897. Not printed. 
 
 1898. 19. THE FAN (A, i, 139). Unpublished transl. by Henry B. 
 Fuller. Perf. by Anna Morgan's pupils, Grand Opera House, 
 Chicago, 1898; and in 1909 by the Dramatic Club of the Univer- 
 sity of Chicago. 
 
 1899. 20. MINE HOSTESS (A, i, 59). A slightly adapted Transla- 
 tion by M. Davies Webster of Carlo Goldoni's Comedy La Lo- 
 candiera. Produced June 12 and 13, 1899, under the stage direc- 
 tion of Mr. A. E. Drinkwater. Not printed. See Maddalena, 
 La Fortuna della " Locandiera" p. 747, who does not say where 
 perf. was given. 
 
 1907. 21. THE FAN (A, i, 139). 22. AN ODD MISUNDER- 
 STANDING (A, i, 95). 23. THE BENEFICENT BEAR (A, i, 
 172). Three Comedies by Goldoni Three Tragedies by Vittorio 
 Alfieri. Translated by Charles Lloyd. In The Literature of 
 Italy, I265-IQO7, 16 vols., not numbered. The National Alumni. 
 
 1910. 24. MIRANDOLINA (A, i, 59). Transl. by Lady Gregory, 
 and perf. Feb. 24, 1910, Dublin (Maddalena, Le Traduzioni del 
 " Ventaglio '' p. 73). 
 
 1911. 25. IL VENTAGLIO THE FAN (A, i, 139). A Comedy in 
 three acts by Carlo Goldoni, translated for The Yale University 
 Dramatic Association by Kenneth McKenzie, Assistant Professor 
 of Italian in Yale University. With an Introduction. New Haven, 
 Conn., 1911. 
 
 1912. 26. THE MISTRESS OF THE INN (A, i, 59). Translated 
 by Mr. Merle Pierson. Wisconsin Dramatic Society. Madison, 
 1912. 
 
 La Locandiera has been translated about 30 times and into 13 
 different languages. 
 
 27. THE COFFEE HOUSE (A, i, 34). Unpublished transl. 
 by Henry B. Fuller. Perf. by The Drama Players, Chicago, 1912. 
 
636 APPENDICES 
 
 28. IL VENTAGLIO THE FAN (A, i, 139). Unpublished 
 transl. by Stark Young, Adjunct Professor of General Literature 
 in the University of Texas. Perf. by The Curtain Club, Univer- 
 sity of Texas, Feb. 19, 1912. 
 
 (b) BOOKS FOR LIGHT OPERA. 
 
 I7 g 7 . i.THE ACCOMPLISHED MAID (A, 2, 60?). A comic 
 opera, as performed at Covent Garden. Translated by Edw. 
 Toms. London, 1767. W. Griffin, Catherine Street, Strand. 
 
 2. LA BUONA FIGLIUOLA (A, 2, 60). A comic opera, as 
 performed at the Hay-Market. Altered by G. G. Bottarelli. Lon- 
 don, sd ed., 1767, ibid. 
 
 3. LA BUONA FIGLIUOLA MARITATA (A, 2, 77). A 
 comic opera, being the second part of La Buona figliuola. Altered 
 by G. G. Bottarelli (It. & Engl.). London, 1767, ibid. 
 
 1768. 4. I VIAGGIATORI RIDICOLI TORNATI IN ITALIA 
 THE RIDICULOUS TRAVELLERS RETURN'D TO ITALY (A, 
 2, 57?, 62?). Translated and altered by G. G. Bottarelli (It. & 
 Engl.). London, 1768, ibid. 
 
 1771. 5 . THE COQUET (A, 2, 84?). A musical entertainment 
 sung at Marybone Gardens; translated from the Italian of Signer 
 Goldoni, and adapted to the original music of Signer Galuppi, by 
 Mr. Stephen Storace. London, 1771. Printed for C. D. Piguenit 
 in Norris Street. 
 
 1772. 6. I VIAGGIATORI TORNATI IN ITALIA THE TRAV- 
 ELLERS RETURN'D TO ITALY (A, 2, 57?, 62?). As per- 
 formed at the King's Theatre in the Hay market. Plan by Gol- 
 doni, but the poetry is quite new, or altered by G. G. Bottarelli. 
 London, 1772, W. Griffin, Catherine Street, Strand. Appears to 
 be another ed. of 4. 
 
 1786. 7. GERMONDO (A, 2, 19). By Carlo Goldoni; a new serious 
 opera in 3 acts. Translation in prose by F. Bottarelli (It. & 
 Engl.). London, 1786, T. Cadell. 
 
 1810. 8. LA BUONA FIGLIUOLA, OR THE GOOD-NATURED 
 GIRL (A, 2, 60). In 2 acts. Music by Piccini. London, 1810. 
 Printed by Bretell & Co., Marshall St., Golden Sq., & sold at 
 the Opera House & no where else. 
 
 1911. 9. THE INQUISITIVE WOMEN (A, i, 60). In G. Schir- 
 mer's Collection of Opera-Librettos. English version by A. J. du 
 P. Coleman. Music by Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari. New York, 1911. 
 The Serenade, by Harry B. Smith (music by Victor Herbert), 
 announced at time of production as a musical version of a comedy 
 by Goldoni, is, as the author informed Mr. Chatfield-Taylor, en- 
 tirely his own, Goldoni's name having been used as a hoax. 
 
APPENDICES 
 
 637 
 
 1814. 
 
 (c) GOLDONI'S MEMOIRS. 
 MEMOIRS OF GOLDONI. Written by himself and forming 
 
 a complete history of his Life and Writings. Translated from the 
 
 original French by John Black. London, 2 vols., 1814. 
 1828. The same, in vol. XXIII (2 vols.) of A Collection of the most 
 
 instructive and amusing Lives ever published. London, 1828. 
 1877. The same; abridged. With an Essay by W. D. Howells. One 
 
 vol. Boston, 1877. 
 
APPENDIX B 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL CHRONOLOGY 
 
 1707, Feb. 25. Birth in Venice of Carlo Goldoni, son of Giulio 
 
 Goldoni and Margherita (Salvioni). 
 
 1712, Jan. 10. Birth of Goldoni's brother, Giampaolo. 
 
 1712 (?). Death of Goldoni's grandfather (See pp. 11-12). 
 
 1714. His father leaves for Rome to study medicine. 
 
 1718. His father obtains the doctorate and settles in 
 
 Perugia with family. 
 
 Goldoni enters the Jesuit college at Perugia. 
 
 Acts female role in La Sorellina dt Don Pilone, 
 by Gigli. 
 
 Goldoni family leaves Perugia for Chioggia, 
 and passing through Rimini, the dramatist is 
 left there to study philosophy under Candini. 
 Has the small-pox. 
 
 Date of letter from Rimini notifying Goldoni's 
 father that his son has decamped with Florin- 
 do's troupe. 
 
 Goldoni accompanies his father on medical 
 rounds. Has love adventure with one of his 
 father's patients. v 
 
 In Venice as fourth apprentice to his uncle In- 
 dric, a lawyer. 
 
 Date of patent of Marquis Ghislieri whereby 
 Gold, is enabled to enter Ghislieri College at 
 Pavia. 
 
 Travels with father from Chioggia to Rovigo, 
 Ferrara, Modena, Piacenza, Milan, and Pavia. 
 
 Patent of admission to the college presented. 
 
 Goldoni receives the tonsure. 
 
 Enters the Ghislieri College. 
 
 Goldoni goes home to Chioggia by water, and 
 there reads Machiavelli's Mandragola. 
 
 On return journey to Pavia he stops at Piacenza, 
 where he visits the Councillor Barilli, who 
 pays him a debt owing to his father as the 
 heir of Carlo Alessandro Goldoni. 
 
 Spends Christmas vacation with Marquis Gol- 
 doni- Vidoni. 
 
 Returns to Chioggia for second summer vaca- 
 tion. Composes panegyric in praise of San 
 Francesco d'Assisi. Spends last days of vaca- 
 tion with Marquis Goldoni at Milan. 
 
 Goldoni expelled from Ghislieri College for 
 writing // Colosso, and he returns to Chioggia 
 accompanied by a hypocritical friar. 
 
 1719, after May. 
 Summer. 
 
 1720. 
 
 1721, March 17. 
 
 1721-22, Winter and 
 Spring. 
 
 1722, Spring and Sum- 
 mer. 
 Sep. 25. 
 
 Autumn. 
 
 Nov. 26. 
 Dec. 25. 
 1723, Jan. 5. 
 July. 
 
 Sep. 
 
 Dec. 
 
 1724, Summer. 
 
 1725, May. 
 
 638 
 
APPENDICES 
 
 639 
 
 1725, Summer. 
 
 1726, Spring. 
 Summer- Autumn, 
 
 Winter. 
 1727. 
 
 1728, Jan. 
 
 1729, May 20. 
 
 1730, Autumn. 
 
 1731, Jan. 29. 
 April. 
 
 Oct. 22. 
 
 1732, May 20. 
 Dec. 
 
 1733, Jan.-Feb. 
 Feb. ii. 
 
 Oct. i. 
 
 Oct. 20. 
 Nov. 3. 
 Nov. 5. 
 Nov. 7. 
 
 Nov. 17. 
 1734, June 26. 
 
 June 28. 
 June 29. 
 July 2. 
 
 July-Aug. 
 
 Goes with his father to Udine, where he ^resumes 
 the study of law under famous jurisconsult 
 Movelli. 
 
 Writes sonnets embodying Lenten sermons de- 
 livered by the R. P. Giacomo Catteneo. Is 
 tricked in amorous adventure by a lady's maid. 
 
 Accompanies his father to Gorz, where he stays 
 five months, and to Wippach; visits Gratz, 
 Trieste, and other towns. Returns to Chi- 
 oggia. 
 
 He is sent to Modena to study law. 
 
 At Modena, Venice, and Chioggia. 
 
 Appointed Supernumerary to Coadjutor in the 
 criminal chancelry of Chioggia. 
 
 Becomes " Coadjutore nella Cancelleria Crimi- 
 nal e " at Feltre, in which position he stays six- 
 teen months. 
 
 Goldoni leaves Feltre for Venice and Ferrara, 
 and joins his parents at Bagnacavallo. His 
 father dies there. 
 
 Date of death certificate of Gold.'s father. 
 
 Goldoni resumes study of law with Gio. Fran- 
 cesco Radi as his tutor. 
 
 Obtains degree of Doctor of Law at Padua. 
 
 Is admitted to the Venetian bar. 
 
 He flees from Venice to escape the difficulties of 
 a love affair. Embarks for Padua, making J 
 short stays in Vicenza, Verona, and Brescia. 
 His mother goes to Modena to live. 
 
 At Bergamo, where he stays at house of Bon- 
 fadini, his former Podesta at Feltre. 
 
 At Milan. Reads Amalasunta to Count Prata 
 of the Milan Opera, and burns it after it is 
 refused. Is appointed the morning following 
 " gentilhomme de chambre " to Orazio Bartol- 
 ini, the Venetian Minister Resident. 
 
 Bartolini leaves Milan, and during his absence 
 Goldoni meets a woman, known as Margherita * 
 Biondi, with whom he has love affair. 
 
 Bartolini returns to Milan. 
 
 The Sardinians and French enter Milan. 
 
 Siege of Citadel of Milan begins. 
 
 Goldoni retires to Crema with Bartolini, whose 
 secretary he becomes. 
 
 Assault of Pizzighettone. 
 
 Goldoni loses his diplomatic position and leaves 
 Crema. 
 
 Arrives in Parma. 
 
 Battle of Parma. 
 
 Goldoni starts for Brescia and is robbed by Aus- 
 trian deserters, who leave him only a copy of 
 Bellsario. Arrives the same day at Casal 
 Pusterlengo, and reads Bellsario to parish 
 priest. 
 
 Arrives^at Brescia, where he meets Scacciati and 
 La Biondi. Borrows money from the former 
 
640 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 and proceeds to Verona, where he is engaged 
 as playwright by Imer of the San Samuele 
 theatre of Venice. 
 1734, Sep. Leaves Verona with Imer's troupe for Venice. 
 
 Oct. In Venice. Beginning of his connection as a 
 
 professional dramatist with the theatres of the 
 Grimani family, viz. the San Samuele and the 
 San Gio. Crisostomo. 
 *735> Spring. At Padua with Imer's troupe. 
 
 Summer. At Udine. La Ferramonti dies there. Goldoni's 
 
 mother returns to Venice from Modena (See 
 Dec., 1732). 
 
 Sep. Again in Venice. Love affair with La Pas- y 
 
 salacqua, whose faithlessness he dramatizes in 
 Don Giovanni Tenorio. 
 
 1736. Spring. Michele Grimani makes Goldoni directing play- 
 
 wright of the San Gio. Crisostomo theatre in 
 Venice. Goldoni follows Imer to Genoa, 
 where he meets Nicoletta Connio. 
 
 Aug. 22. Date of marriage contract between Goldoni and 
 
 Nicoletta Connio (Born in 1717). 
 
 Aug. 23. Goldoni's wedding. Is again seized with small- 
 
 pox. 
 
 Oct. 9. Arrives in Venice with bride. 
 
 Visits Modena with his wife, returning to Venice 
 
 before Aut. 
 Count Antonio Tuvo, Genoese consul in Venice, 
 
 dies. 
 
 Goldoni appointed to his post. 
 His exequatur approved by governments of 
 
 Genoa and Venice respectively. 
 His lawsuit on behalf of a Genoese senator, and 
 
 unfortunate dealing with broker. 
 According to last document known to have been 
 written by Goldoni as Genoese consul, three 
 months' leave of absence given Goldoni by gov- 
 ernment of Genoa, intended by him to be used 
 to regain income of his patrimony at Modena, 
 and to persuade Genoese government to pay 
 him for his services. He puts off departure, 
 however, because of 
 
 May 19. Death of Anna Baccherini, the soubrette for 
 
 whom he wrote La Donna di garbo, and be- 
 cause of return of his brother Giampaolo, who 
 
 May-June. Introduces to him a Ragusan captain, masquer- 
 
 ading as a recruiting colonel, who swindles 
 Goldoni. Starts on journey to Genoa, but 
 there is no evidence that he reached that city. 
 
 June. At Bologna with his wife. 
 
 July 16. At Rimini (Acts as godfather there to child of 
 
 Angela Bartozzi). 
 
 Oct. Austrians move on Rimini, and Duke of Modena 
 
 evacuates same. Goldoni leaves for Pesaro. 
 
 Oct. 25. Austrians enter Rimini. 
 
 1743, Oct. 29. Austrians at Cattolica. Goldoni's luggage cap- 
 
 tured. 
 
 1737 173, Spring- 
 Summer. 
 
 1740, Aug. 3. 
 
 Dec. 12. 
 
 1741, Jan. 2 & 19. 
 
 Nov. 
 1743, March 9. 
 
APPENDICES 
 
 641 
 
 1743, Nov. 
 
 1744, Jan. or Feb. 
 Lent. 
 
 April-July. 
 Aug. 15. 
 
 Summer. 
 Sep. 
 
 1745- 
 
 Aug. 13. 
 
 1746. 
 
 May 3. 
 
 1747, Spring. 
 Sep. 
 
 1748, shortly after 
 
 April 14. 
 
 June. 
 
 Aug. 
 Oct. 
 
 1749, March 10. 
 Nov. 17. 
 
 1750, Feb. 10. 
 Spring. 
 
 Summer 
 Oct. 5. 
 
 1751, Feb. 
 
 Easter. 
 
 After May 29. 
 
 Oct. 4. 
 
 1753, April 17. 
 
 Middle of May. 
 
 Oct. 
 Christmas. 
 
 Goldoni returns to Rimini. 
 
 He resigns consulship. 
 
 Austrians take the offensive. Goldoni leaves for 
 Florence. 
 
 In Florence. 
 
 Assumption day at Sienna. Hears Perfetti im- 
 provise at Academy of Intronati. 
 
 Visits Pisa, where he is received among the local 
 Arcadians (Colonia Alfea). 
 
 Begins the practice of law in Pisa. 
 
 Cesare D'Arbes, a member of the Medebac 
 troupe, then at Leghorn, visits Goldoni at Pisa, 
 and asks him for a play. 
 
 Goldoni sends D'Arbes a sonnet to be recited at 
 perf. of Tonin bella grazia. 
 
 Goes to Florence on business. 
 
 Day of the " Invenzione della Croce": he is at 
 Lucca. 
 
 Goes to Leghorn and meets Girolamo Medebac. 
 
 Signs provisional agreement with him. 
 
 Goldoni leaves Pisa; goes to Florence, thence to 
 Bologna and Mantua, where he arrives at end 
 of April, staying a month in Mantua. 
 
 He journeys to Modena, where Medebac joins 
 him the latter part of July. 
 
 Goes to Venice. 
 
 Goldoni's first season at the Sant' Angelo thea- 
 tre opens. 
 
 He signs a four years' contract with Medebac. 
 
 Dramatic censorship established by Venetian gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 Announces intention to write sixteen comedies for 
 the following season. 
 
 Goldoni accompanies Medebac's players to Bo- 
 logna (where he is April 18), and Mantua, 
 length of stay in these two places being five 
 months. 
 
 Is in Milan. 
 
 Third season at the Sant' Angelo opens with // 
 Teatro comico. 
 
 Medebac permits Goldoni to print his plays at 
 the rate of one volume a year. 
 
 Follows Medebac to Turin. 
 
 Goes to Genoa and Milan. 
 
 Opening of Goldoni's fourth season at the Sant' 
 Angelo. 
 
 Wedding of Giovanni Mocenigo and Catterina 
 Loredan, niece of the Doge Francesco Lore- 
 dan, Goldoni attending the wedding supper at 
 the Ducal Palace two days after. 
 
 Joins the Medebac players in Bologna, where he 
 makes the acquaintance of Senator Francesco 
 Albergati-Capacelli. 
 
 First negotiations with Vendramin (Antonio). 
 
 Announces that he will sever his relations with 
 Medebac at termination of contract. 
 
642 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 1753, Feb. 15. 
 
 March 6. 
 April 28. 
 
 Oct. 7. 
 
 Oct. 10. 
 1754, March. 
 
 May, or June. 
 
 Sep. 14. 
 Oct. 7. 
 Nov. 7. 
 1755, March. 
 
 After April 26. 
 
 Aug. 2 and 23. 
 
 End of Sep. 
 Oct. 6. 
 1756, March. 
 
 Oct. 4. 
 Oct. 9. 
 
 Oct. 14. 
 
 Dec. 
 Dec. 14. 
 
 1757. after March i. 
 Summer. 
 
 Oct. 3. 
 
 1758, Lent. 
 
 First contract with San Luca theatre, signed by 
 Antonio Vendramin. 
 
 Contract with Medebac expires. 
 
 Date of manifesto (Lettera dell' awocato Carlo 
 Goldoni ad un suo amico in Venezia], pub- 
 lished by Goldoni in Florence, in which the 
 Paperini ed. of his dramatic works is an- 
 nounced. 
 
 Opening of Goldoni's first season at San Luca 
 theatre. 
 
 Date of Ducal Privilege to print Paperini ed. 
 
 Goldoni's brother, Giampaolo, comes to Venice 
 with his two children. 
 
 Journeys to Modena with his entire family, 
 where he falls ill of pneumonia. After his re- 
 covery he goes to Milan (Writes from Milan 
 to Giovan Marco Pitteri on July 17), where 
 he joins his players. His "vapors" attack him 
 again, being aggravated by the death of the 
 actor Angeleri on July 16. 
 
 Is again in Venice. 
 
 Second season at San Luca opens. 
 
 Death of Goldoni's mother. 
 
 Makes contract for Pitteri ed. of his dramatic 
 works. 
 
 Leaves Venice to join his players in Bologna. 
 On the way thither he is stopped, near Fer- 
 rara, by a customs officer, who, upon recogniz- 
 ing the playwright, intercedes successfully with 
 his chief for the passage of Goldoni's contra- 
 band. 
 
 In Venice. Thence he goes to Bagnoli to visit 
 Count Widiman. 
 
 Returns to Venice. 
 
 Third season at San Luca opens. 
 
 At the invitation of Philip of Bourbon, Duke 
 of Parma and Piacenza, Goldoni goes to 
 Parma and to the ducal country seat, Colorno, 
 Philip rewarding him with the title of Court 
 Poet and an annual pension of 3000 lire (Par- 
 mesan). 
 
 Fourth season at San Luca opens. 
 
 Date of letter to Arconati-Visconti, showing Gol- 
 doni had returned to Venice. 
 
 Goldoni's second contract with Vendramin 
 (Francesco). 
 
 Second journey to the court of Parma. 
 
 Date of letter to Arconati-Visconti, showing Gol- 
 doni was then at Parma. He stays there until 
 March, 1757. 
 
 He meets Madame du Boccage in Venice. 
 
 At Zola, near Bologna, summer estate of Mar- 
 quis Albergati-Capacelli. 
 
 Fifth season at San Luca opens. 
 
 Goldoni receives an invitation from the proprie- 
 tor of the Tordinona theatre in Rome to write 
 
APPENDICES 
 
 643 
 
 1758, Nov. 23. 
 Middle of Dec. 
 
 1759. July 2 or 3. 
 July 17. 
 Sep. ii. 
 Oct. 13. 
 
 Aut. 
 
 1761, Jan. 25. 
 Feb. 4. 
 
 Lent. 
 
 Sep. 5. 
 1762. Feb. 23. 
 
 March 2. 
 April 15. 
 May 8-29. 
 June. 
 
 July 2. 
 July. 
 
 July 24. 
 July-Aug. 
 
 Aug. 26. 
 Sep. i. 
 
 Sep. 5. 
 
 1763, end of Jan. 
 March. 
 
 Oct. 19. 
 
 1764, March 19. 
 
 plays for that playhouse and oversee their 
 
 production in person. 
 Starts on his journey to Rome. 
 Arrives in Rome, and lodges in the house of 
 
 Pietro Poloni, in the via Condotti. 
 Leaves Rome. 
 Is in Bologna. 
 
 Is still in Bologna. (Mantovani, p. 148.) 
 Writes to " N. N." that he had spent two months 
 
 and a half in Bologna (Masi, Letter e, p. 130). 
 First negotiations with the comediens du Roi de 
 
 la troupe italienne. 
 Carlo Gozzi's L 'A more delle ire melar ancle first 
 
 perf. in Venice. 
 Goldoni receives consent of the " Riformatori " 
 
 to publish the Pasquali ed., and subsequently, 
 
 at a Lenten banquet in Venice, he obtains 180 
 
 subscriptions. 
 The French ambassador gives Goldoni a letter 
 
 from Zanuzzi, offering him in the name of 
 
 the Directeur des Spectacles a two-years' en- 
 gagement in Paris. 
 
 Date of letter accepting Parisian engagement. 
 Perf. of Una delle ultime sere di carnovale, in 
 
 which Goldoni bids farewell to the Venetian 
 
 public. 
 
 Third contract with Vendramin (Francesco). 
 Goldoni leaves Venice forever. 
 Is ill at Bologna. 
 Stops at Modena. And at Reggio (June 26), to 
 
 visit Paradisi. 
 At Parma, where he stops for a week, and makes 
 
 peace with Frugoni. 
 At Corte Maggiore, visiting Princess Henrietta 
 
 of Modena. Then at Piacenza for four days 
 
 with the Marquis Casati. 
 
 In Genoa with his wife's relatives for a week. 
 Journeying via Antibes, Nice, Marseille, and 
 
 Lyon to Paris. 
 Arrival in Paris. Takes lodgings in apartment 
 
 near Comedie Italienne. 
 Goldoni assumes his post at the Theatre Italien 
 
 (Spinelli, Fogli spar si. p. 62), but asks for 
 
 four months' time " to examine the taste of the 
 
 public." 
 // Figlio d'Arlecchino perduto e ritrovato played 
 
 at Fontainebleau, where Goldoni passes a 
 
 week. 
 
 Moves to the Rue Richelieu, beside Cafe de Foy. 
 Sees French opera for the first time. Dines with 
 
 Madame du Boccage. 
 Is sued for seduction by Catherine Lefebvre 
 
 (Lefebure), alias Mery. 
 
 Writes to Albergati concerning Comedie Ital- 
 ienne, saying: "I can certainly not stay in 
 
 Paris; I should lose my reputation." 
 
644 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 1764, April 16. 
 
 1765, Feb. 24. 
 
 Before May 3. 
 May 3-Oct 8. 
 
 Dec. 20. 
 
 1767, March 13. 
 
 1768, May 15. 
 
 June 24. 
 
 1769, before Jan. 12. 
 
 End of 1769^6- 
 ginning of 1770. 
 
 1770, May 1 6. 
 
 1771, Nov. 4. 
 Nov. 5. 
 
 1774, May 10. 
 Summer. 
 
 1775, Feb. 
 
 June ii. 
 
 1777. 
 
 1778, Feb. 10. 
 Feb. 17. 
 
 1779, Dec. 25. 
 1780. 
 
 1781, Oct. 30. 
 
 1783- 
 
 1785, May 24. 
 
 Writes to Albergati that the actors of the 
 Comedie Italienne were forcing him to leave 
 Paris; but that the Gentlemen of the Chamber 
 have made compromise whereby he is under 
 aegis of the court, and independent of the ac- 
 tors. 
 
 Writes to Gabriel Cornet that he has been ap- 
 pointed to teach Italian to Madame Adelaide, 
 though still under obligation to write for 
 Comedie Italienne until Easter. 
 
 Is given apartment in the Chateau de Versailles. 
 
 At Marly, Compiegne, Chantilly, Fontainebleau, 
 and Versailles. 
 
 Death of Dauphin. Goldoni in Versailles. 
 
 Death of Dauphine Marie Josephe de Saxe. 
 
 Corsica annexed, though not effectively taken 
 possession of until after battle of Pontenuovo, 
 May 9, 1769: Goldoni obtains for his nephew 
 the post of interpreter in newly created Cor- 
 sican bureau, he having previously secured for 
 the nephew the professorship of Italian in the 
 Ecole Royale Militaire. 
 
 Death of the Queen of France, Maria Lecinska. 
 
 Mesdames de France obtain for Goldoni an an- 
 nual pension of 4000 livres. 
 
 Goldoni invited to London to write for Hay- 
 market theatre. Declines. 
 
 Marriage of Marie Antoinette with Dauphin of 
 France. 
 
 Perf. in Paris of Le Bourru bienfaisant. 
 
 Idem at Fontainebleau. 
 
 Death of Louis XV. 
 
 Goldoni at Choisy-le-Roy, where the daughters 
 of Louis XV are recuperating. 
 
 Goldoni called to teach Italian to Madame Clo- 
 tilde, sister of Louis XVI, who is to marry the 
 Prince of Piedmont. 
 
 Coronation at Reims of King Louis XVI. 
 
 A troupe of Italian buffi arrive in Paris. Gol- 
 doni disappointed in not being invited to re- 
 write their libretti. 
 
 Voltaire returns to Paris. 
 
 Goldoni visits him. (Maddalena, Bricciche gol- 
 donlane: La Visita al Voltaire.) 
 
 Decree issued abolishing Comedie Italienne, to 
 take effect at Easter. 
 
 Goldoni retires from the court, and settles in 
 Paris. 
 
 Marriage of his niece, Petronilla Margherita 
 Goldoni, to Giovanni Antonio Chiaruzzi. 
 
 Goldoni plans a " Journal de correspondance 
 italienne et frangaise." The plan fails. 
 
 Failure of perf. in French of Un Curioso acci- 
 dente (La Dupe de soi-memi). (Grimm, 
 respondance, Entry of June, 1785.) 
 
 Illness of Goldoni's wife. 
 
APPENDICES 645 
 
 1787. Visits of Alfieri and Moratin to Goldoni. 
 
 1788, Oct. 20. The Comedie Frangaise pays Goldoni 600 livres. 
 
 1792, Jan. 30. Goldoni cedes all rights in Le Bourru bienjaisant 
 
 to the Comedie Franchise. 
 
 Feb. 6. Goldoni's nephew given the entree of Comedie 
 
 Franchise as long as Le Bourru bienjaisant 
 continues in its repertory. 
 
 1793, Feb. 6. Death of Carlo Goldoni at six o'clock in the 
 
 evening, at age of eighty-six, at his home in 
 the rue Pavee Saint-Sauveur, No. i. 
 
 1793. Feb. 7. The Convention nationale, unaware of Goldoni's 
 
 demise, and on motion of Marie-Joseph Che- 
 nier, decrees to restore to Goldoni his pension 
 of 4000 livres a year, and to pay on his de- 
 mand what is due him of the pension since 
 July, 1792. 
 
 Feb. 10. Chenier obtains from the Convention nationale 
 
 a pension of 1500 livres for Goldoni's widow. 
 
 June 18. Benefit perf. of Le Bourru bienjaisant, ordered 
 
 and attended by the Convention nationale, 
 which nets 1859 livres and 15 sous, this sum 
 being paid to Goldoni's nephew for the widow. 
 
APPENDIX C 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 This bibliography, while presenting the titles of the books and arti- 
 cles quoted, referred to, or specially consulted in the preparation of the 
 present volume, contains as well the titles of additional works of liter- 
 ary or historical significance that should come within the knowledge of 
 the student of Goldoni. It makes mention, however, of only those gen- 
 eral histories of Italian literature which have been actually consulted, 
 and excludes the mass of occasional and other verse, and the addresses, 
 printed in 1907, on the occasion of the second centenary of Goldoni's 
 birth, as well as the plays by Paolo Ferrari and other Italians in which 
 Goldoni figures as a character. For supplementary material, or for 
 arrangements of it under specialized heads, the reader is referred to the 
 bibliographies of A. G. Spinelli (1884), Charles Rabany (Sources 
 bibliographiques in his Carlo Goldoni, etc., 1896), D'Ancona and Bacci 
 (Vol. IV, 1906, and Vol. VI: Supplemento bibliografico, 1904, of their 
 Manuale della letteratura italiana}, Cesare Levi (1907), and A. Delia 
 Torre (1908). 
 
 ABATE, GIUSEPPE DE-. Le Ultime servette goldoniane. Nuova An- 
 
 tologia, Feb. 16, 1907. 
 ADEMOLLO, A. // Carnevale di Roma net secoli XV 11 e XV 111. 
 
 Rome, 1883. 
 
 Una Famiglia di comici italiani nel secolo decimottavo. Flor- 
 ence, 1885. 
 AGNOLI, G. Versi inediti di Carlo Goldoni. Rivista d'ltalia, Nov., 
 
 1903. 
 AGRESTI, ALBERTO. Studii sulla commedia italiana del secolo XVI. 
 
 Naples, 1871. 
 ALBERTAZZI, A. Patologia goldoniana. In Flegrea, Naples, May 20, 
 
 1899. 
 
 // Nevrastenico. II Marzocco, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 ALGAROTTI, F. Lettere inedite in his Opere, vols. XVII and XVIII 
 
 (Mme. du Boccage and Goldoni). Venice, 1794. 
 ALOI, ALFONSO. // Goldoni e la Commedia dell' Arte. Breve saggio 
 
 storico-critico. Catania, 1883. 
 AMICIS, V, DE-. La Commedia popolare latina e la commedia dell' 
 
 arte. Naples, 1882. 
 ANCONA, A. D'-. Una Macchietta goldoniana. In Numero unico 
 
 "Carlo Goldoni." Venice, Dec. 20, 1883. 
 Origini del teatro italiano; libri ire; con due appendici sulla 
 
 rappresentazione drammatica del contado toscano e sul teatro 
 
 mantovano nel secolo XVI. Turin, 2 vols., 1891. 
 (With ORAZIO BACCI). Manuale della letteratura italiana. 
 
 Florence, 6 vols., 1904-08. 
 ANONYMOUS. Osservazioni critiche sopra le commedie nuove fatte 
 
 dalli Sig. Goldoni e Chiari in quest' anno 1754. Venice. 
 646 
 
APPENDICES 647 
 
 Dictionnaire des theatres de Paris. Paris, 1756. 
 
 Anecdotes dramatiques Paris, vol. Ill, 1775. 
 
 Nouvelle biographie universe lie. Paris, 46 vols., 1852-66. 
 
 Memorie e documents per la storia dell' Universita a Pavia. 
 
 Pavia, 1877. 
 
 ANTONA-TRAVERSI, CAMILLO. Carlo Goldoni a Paris. A I'occa- 
 sion de son bi-centenaire, L'ltalie et la France, Revue illustree, 
 Feb. 4, 1907. 
 
 Goldoni a Parigi. Natura ed Arte, Feb. 15, 1907. 
 ANTONI, VINCENZO DEGLI-. Confronto fra (e L 'Adulator e" dell' 
 Awocato Carlo Goldoni e quello di G. B. Rousseau. Giornale 
 arcadico, Rome, vol. V, 1822. 
 
 APOLLINAIRE, G. Le Theatre it alien. Paris, 1910. 
 APOLLONIO, F. Curiosita storiche intorno alle "Donne curiose" di 
 
 Carlo Goldoni. Ateneo veneto, March 27, 1895. 
 ARISTOTLE. Theory of Poetry and Fine Art. Ed. by S. H. Butcher, 
 
 London, 1907. 
 ATENEO VENETO A CARLO GOLDONI. Anno XXX, vol. I, 1907. 
 
 Contains these artcles: 
 
 I. Relazione delle onoranze rese dall' Ateneo Veneto a Carlo Gol- 
 doni nel 2 centenario della sua nascita. I Direttori della 
 Rivista. 
 II. Carlo Goldoni ed Alessandro Manzoni. F. Pellegrini. 
 
 III. L'Episodio goldoniano delle sedici commedie nuove. Vittorio 
 
 Malamani. 
 
 IV. // Gergo dei barcaiuoli veneziani e Carlo Goldoni. Cesare 
 
 Musatti. 
 
 V. Diderot e il " Burbero benefico." Pietro Toldo. 
 VI. Un Finto Goldoni. E. Maddalena. 
 VII. Passatempi goldoniani. Achilla Neri. 
 
 BACCI, ORAZIO. See under D'Ancona. 
 
 BACHAUMONT. Memoires secrets. London, 36 vols., 1780-89. 
 
 BARBIERA, R. Polvere di palcoscenico. Note drammatiche (For 
 Torquato Tasso, A, i, 76). Catania, 1908. 
 
 BARBIERI, NICCOL6. La Supplica, ricoretta ed ampliata. Discorso 
 famigliare di Niccolo Barbieri, detto Beltrame, diretto a quelli 
 che scrivendo o parlando trattano de' Comici, trascurendo i 
 meriti delle azzioni virtuose. Venice, 1634. 
 
 BARETTI, GIUSEPPE. La Frusta letteraria. A journal (33 num- 
 bers), Venice, 1763. 
 
 An Account of the Manners and Customs of Italy. London, 1768. 
 Opere complete. Milan, 4 vols., 1838-39. 
 
 Prefazioni e polemiche, a cura di Luigi Piccioni. In Scrittori 
 d'ltalia. Bari, 1911. 
 
 BARTOLI, ADOLFO. Scenari inediti della commedia dell' arte. Con- 
 tributo alia storia del teatro popolare italiano. Florence, 1880. 
 
 BARTOLI, FRANCESCO. Notizie istoriche de' Comici italiani che 
 fiorirono intorno all' anno MDL fino a' giorni presenti. Padua, 
 2 vols., 1782. 
 
 BASCHET, ARMAND. Les Comediens italiens a la cour de France 
 sous Charles IX, Henri III, Henri IV, et Louis XIII. Paris, 
 1882. 
 
 BATES, ALFRED (Editor). Drama and Opera. Their History, Lit- 
 erature, and Influence on Civilization (vol. Ill: Italy). Lon- 
 don, 12 vols., no date. 
 
648 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 .BEDUSCHI, M. Moliere e Goldoni. Verona, 1900. 
 BELGRANO, L. T. // Matrimonio, and // Consolato di C. G. In his 
 
 Imbreviature di Giovanni Scriba. Genoa, 1882. 
 BELLONI, A. Intarno a una tragedia del Goldoni (A, i, 9). Raccolta 
 
 di studii critici dedicata ad Alessandro D'Ancona, Florence, 
 
 1901. 
 BENEDUCCI, F. // Goldoni e la Massoneria. Scampoli Critici, Serie 
 
 3, Oneglia, 1906. 
 BERCHET, G. (Editor). Poesie di G. Baffo, Carlo Goldoni e Gasparo 
 
 Gozzi sulla commedia " II Filosofo inglese" rappresentata 
 
 I'anno 1754. Venice, 1861. 
 BEREGAN, NICOLA. II Museo d' Apollo. Venice, Fitter!, 1754. Also 
 
 printed in editions of Goldoni's works: Fantino (Turin), 
 
 vol. XIII; Guibert e Orgeas (Turin), vol. XII; Masi (Leg- 
 horn), vol. XXXI. 
 BERNARDIN, N. M. La Comedie italienne en France et le theatre 
 
 de la Foire. Paris, 1902. 
 BERTANA, E. Vittorio A I fieri. Turin, 1902. 
 
 // Teatro tragico italiano nel secolo XV 111 prima dell' A I fieri. 
 
 Supplemento N. 4, Giorn. stor. della lett. ital., Turin, 1901. 
 BERTONI, G. Carlo Goldoni e il teatro francese del suo tempo. Mo- 
 
 dena, 1907. 
 BETTINELLI, G. Lettere a Lesbia Cidonia sopra gli epigrammi. 
 
 (For cabal over Le Bourru bienfaisant.) Vol. XXI of his 
 
 Opere, Venice, 1801. 
 ^BEVOTTE, G. GENDARME DE-. La Legende de Don Juan. Son 
 
 evolution dans la litterature, des origines au romantisme. 
 
 Paris, 1906. 
 BOCCAGE, Mme. DU-. Lettres sur L'ltalie. Vol. Ill of the Recueil 
 
 des ceuvres de Madame Du Boccage. Lyons, 1770. 
 BOERIO, GIUSEPPE. Dizionario del dialetto veneziano. Seconda 
 
 edizione aumentata e corretta. Venice, 1856. 
 BOISSY, LOUIS DE-. Pamela en France; ou la vertu eprouvee. In 
 
 his GLuvres, 9 vols., Paris, 1766. Or his Chefs-d'oeuvre dra- 
 
 matiques, 2 vols., Paris, 1791. 
 BONFANTI, R. Saggio: La Donna di garbo. Tip. Zammit, 1899. 
 
 Uno Scenario di Basilio Locatelli: "II Fecchio avaro ovvero li 
 
 scritti" (source for La Serva amoroso], Noto, 1901. 
 Saggio: II Cavalier e e la dama. In Soccorriamo i poveri bam- 
 bini rachitici; Strenna pel 1907, Venice. 
 
 La Data dell' " Impostor e." Rass. bibliogr. d. letter, ital., 1907. 
 BORGHI, CARLO. Memorie sulla vita di Carlo Goldoni. Modena, 
 
 1859. See Modena a Carlo Goldoni. 
 BOUVY, EUGENE. Voltaire et I'ltalie. Paris, 1898. 
 BRACCO, R. La Donna nel teatro di Carlo Goldoni. La Donna, Feb. 
 
 20, 1907; Gazzetta del popolo, Turin, July 21, 1910. 
 BRAGGIO. Le Donne del Goldoni. Strenna dei rachitici. Genoa, 1888 
 
 & 1889. 
 BRATTI, R. Sette lettere di F. A. Bon (who was " il piu fervente 
 
 goldoniano dell' ottocento"). Rivista teatrale italiana. Flor- 
 ence, 1907. 
 
 Goldoni e I'abate Vicini. Fanfulla d. Dom., June 27, 1908. 
 BRENTARI, O. // Gradenigo e Carlo Goldoni. Bassano, 1885. 
 BROCCHI, VIRGILIO. Carlo Goldoni a Venezia nel secolo XVIII. 
 
 Bologna, 1907. 
 
APPENDICES 649 
 
 La Polemica a teatro (Concerning Carlo Gozzi, Chiari, and Gol- 
 doni). Rivista d'ltalia, May, 1907. 
 
 BROGLIO, LUIGI GRABINSKI (Editor). Pel 2 Centenario della 
 nascita di Carlo Goldoni. Preface by Renato Simoni. II Tea- 
 tro Alessandro Manzoni. Milan, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 
 BROGNOLIGO, G. N el Teatro di Carlo Goldoni: II Cavalier e e la 
 
 dama. Le Femmine puntigliose. La Guerra. Naples, 1907. 
 Goldoniana, in La Biblioteca delle scuole it., vol. IX, Serie 2 a , 
 Feb., 1900. 
 
 BROLL, E. // Torquato Tasso di Goethe. Annuario degli studenti 
 trentini. Florence, 1897-1898. 
 
 BROSSES, LE PRESIDENT DE-. Lettres familieres ecrites d'ltalie 
 en 1739 et 1740. Paris, 4th ed., 2 vols., 1885. 
 
 BROUWER, F. DE SIMONE-. Don Giovanni nella poesia e nell' arte 
 
 musicale. Naples, 1884. 
 Ancora Don Giovanni. Rass, crit. d. lett. ital., II, 1897. 
 
 CAMERINI, EUGENIO. / Precursori del Goldoni. Milan, 1872. 
 CAMPARDON, E. Les Spectacles de la Foire. Theatres, acteurs, 
 
 sauteurs et danseurs de corde, monstres, geants, nains, animaux 
 
 curieux ou savants, marionettes, automates, figures de cire et 
 
 jeux mechaniques des Foires St. Germain et St. Laurent, des 
 
 Boulevards et du Palais-Royal, depuis 1595 jusqu'a 1791. Paris, 
 
 2 vols., 1877. 
 Les Comediens du Rot de la Troupe Italienne pendant les deux 
 
 dernier s siecles. Paris, 2 vols., 1880. 
 CANBY, HENRY SEIDEL. Pamela Abroad. Modern Language Notes, 
 
 vol. XVIII, 1903. 
 CAPRIN, GIULIO. La Commedia dell' arte al principio del secolo 
 
 XVIII. Rivista teatrale italiana. Naples, May and Aug., 1905. 
 Carlo Goldoni, la sua vita, le sue opere. Con Introduzione di 
 
 Guido Mazzoni. Milan, 1907. 
 
 Goldoni cortesan. II Palvese, Trieste, Feb. 24, 1907. 
 I Goldonisti. II Marzocco, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 CARLETTA. See under Valeri, A. 
 
 CARMI, MARIA. Pier Jacopo Mart till Florence, 1906. 
 CARRER, LUIGI. Saggi su la vita e su le opere di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 Venice, 3 vols., 1824. 
 CARRERA, VALENTINO. Di un nuovo documento intorno alia vita 
 
 di Carlo Goldoni. Nuova Rivista, Turin, vol. Ill, 1882. 
 Carlo Goldoni a Torino. C. G., Num. unico, Venice, Dec., 1883, 
 
 and in vol. IV of his Commedie, Turin, 1890. 
 CASANOVA DE SEINGALT, J. Memoires ecrits par lui-meme. 
 
 Nouvelle edition collationnee sur I'edition originale de Leip- 
 
 sick. Paris, 8 vols., no date. 
 Confutazione della storia del governo veneto, d'Amelot de la 
 
 Houssaye. Amsterdam, 1769. 
 
 CAVATORTI, G. // Goldoni a Reggio d'Emilia. Modena, 1907. 
 CENTELLI, A. Maria Nicoletta. L'lllustrazione italiana. Milan, 
 
 XVII, 1890. 
 CERCHIARI, C. LUIGI. Carlo Goldoni e la Fenezia dei suoi tempi. 
 
 II Secolo XX, March, 1907. 
 CHAUSStlE, PIERRE-CLAUDE NIVELLE DE LA-. Pamela, comedie 
 
 en 5 actes et en vers (Nov., 1743). In CEuvres completes, Paris, 
 
 5 vols., 1762. 
 
650 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 CHIARI, PIETRO. Commedie (more than 60), Venice, 1756-62. And 
 
 Bologna, 1756. 
 
 Commedie in versi dell' abate P. C. Venice, 1757. 
 Nuova Raccolta di commedie. Venice, 1762. 
 Tragedie (4). Bologna, 1792. 
 CHIURLO, BINDO. // Friuli nelle Memorie di Carlo Goldoni e la 
 
 prima pubblicazione del commediografo. Udine, 1907. 
 CIAMPI, IGNAZIO. La Vita artistica di Carlo Goldoni. Rome, 1860. 
 
 La Commedia italiana. Rome, 1870. 
 
 CIAN, V. Due aneddoti, due eta nella storia e nella vita di Pisa. Mis- 
 cellanea di erudizione. Pisa, vol. i, 1905. 
 L'ltalianita di Carlo Goldoni. L'Esule sommo. Numero unico 
 
 x de "La Dante Alighieri." Comitato di Senigallia, 1907. 
 COLLE, CHARLES. Journal historique. Paris, 3 vols., 1805-07. 
 COLLIER, J. P. History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of 
 Shakespeare and Annals ^of the Stage to the Restoration. Lon- 
 don, 3 vols., 1831. Reprint, 1879. 
 COLLISON-MORLEY, LACY. Modern Italian Literature. London, 
 
 1911. Boston, 1912. 
 
 COPPING, EDWARD. Alfieri and Goldoni. Their Lives and Ad- 
 ventures. London, 1857. 
 CORYAT, T. Coryafs Crudities. London, 3 vols., 1776 (from ed. of 
 
 1611). 
 COSTETTI. Bozzetti drammatici (for La Serva amorosa A, i, 55). 
 
 Bologna, 1887. 
 // Teatro italiano nel 1800 (for Torquato Tasso A, i, 76). 
 
 Rocca di S. Cassiano, 1901. 
 CRESCIMBENI, G. M. Notizie istoriche degli Arcadi morti. Rome, 
 
 1720. 
 CROCIONI, G. Iconografia goldoniana. In Opuscolo per nozze Con- 
 
 versi-Radiciotti. Modena, 1907. 
 
 Reggio e il Goldoni. In Modena a Carlo Goldoni, p. 344. Mo- 
 dena, 1907. 
 CUMAN, A. La Riforma del teatro comico italiano e Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 Ateneo veneto, vols. XXII & XXIII, 1899-1900. 
 CUNLIFFE, JOHN W. Influence of Italian on Early Elizabethan 
 
 Drama. Modern Philology, vol. IV. Chicago, 1906-07. 
 Italian Prototypes of the Masque and Dumb Show. Publications 
 of the Modern Language Association of America, vol. XXII, 
 1907. 
 
 DALMEDICO, ANGELO. La Massoneria nelle "Donne curiose," (A, 
 
 i, 60). Strenna della Rivista della massoneria italiana. Rome, 
 
 1891. 
 DEJOB, CHARLES. Les Femmes dans la comedie franqaise et italienne 
 
 au XVIII* siecle. Paris, 1899. 
 DESBOULMIERS. Histoire anecdotique et raisonnee du theatre italien. 
 
 Paris, 7 vols., 1769. 
 DIDEROT, D. CEuvres completes: De la poesie dramatique (1758, in 
 
 which he defends himself against accusation of plagiarism in 
 
 his Le Fils naturel from Goldoni's // Vero amico A, i, 41). 
 
 And ibid.: Assezat in his preface to Le Pere de famille, vol. 
 
 VII. Paris, Gamier, 1875. 
 DUTSCHKE, HANS. Goldonis Tasso. Burg, 1889. 
 
 EL., Mrs. Fra le donne di Carlo Goldoni. II Marzocco, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 
APPENDICES 651 
 
 FALCHI, LUIGI. Intendimenti sociali di Carlo Goldoni. Rome, 1907. 
 
 FALCONI, C. Le Quattro principali maschere italiane nella Commedia 
 dell' Arte e nel teatro del Goldoni. Rome, 1896. 
 
 FALORSI-SESTINI, IDA. Carlo Goldoni e la commedia. Giornalino 
 della Domenica, March 3, 1907. 
 
 FAVART, C. S. Memoires et correspondance litteraires, dramatigues 
 et anecdotiques. Paris, 3 vols., 1808. 
 
 FEDERICI, VITTORIO. // " Torguato Tasso" (A, i, 76) di C. Gol- 
 doni e di P. Giacometti. Vita Italiana, N. XV, Rome, 1895. 
 
 FERRARI, B. U., and MARCONI, A. Carlo Goldoni educatore. 
 Florence, 1907. 
 
 FERRETTI, E. Le Maschere italiane nella Commedia dell' Arte e nel 
 teatro di Goldoni. Rome, 1904. 
 
 FERRIGNI, P. C. (Pseud. YORICK). La Gelosia delle donne consid- 
 erata quale passione drammatica. La Nazione. Florence, 
 March 21, 1872. 
 
 FILIPPI, J. DE-. Tartuffe en Italie. Le Molieriste, vol. 6, 1884. 
 
 FINZI, GIUSEPPE. Lezioni di storia della letter atur a italiana. Turin, 
 5 vols., 1889-1895. 
 
 FIORDELISI. // Napolitano nel teatro di Goldoni. Naples, 1907. 
 
 FOFFANO, F. Due documenti goldoniani. Nuovo Archivio veneto, vol. 
 XVIII, 1899-1900. 
 
 FRERON, ELIA. "// Vero amico" (A, i, 41) de Goldoni et " Le Fils 
 naturel" de Diderot. L'Annee litteraire, 1757, p. 289, Amster- 
 dam. Article on Diderot's defense, ibid., p. 15, 1761. 
 
 FULIN, R. Carlo Goldoni e gl' Inquisitori di Stato. Atti dell' 1st. 
 veneto, series V, vol. 3, Venice, 1877. 
 
 GALANTI, FERDINANDO. Carlo Goldoni e Venezia nel secolo 
 
 XVlll. Padua, 1882. 
 
 Carlo Goldoni e Gaspare Gozzi. In Soccorriamo i poveri bam- 
 bini rachitici. Strenna pel 1907. Venice. 
 
 GALLETTI, E. // Collegia Ghislieri di Pavia. Pa via, 1890. 
 
 GALLICO, G. // Bugiardo (A, i, 35) di Carlo Goldoni e la commedia 
 dell' arte. Turin, 1907. 
 
 GALLINA, GIACINT.^ Le Maschere goldoniane. In Soccorriamo i 
 poveri bambini rachitici. Strenna veneziana, 1907. 
 
 GARZONI, TOMMASO. La Piazza universale di tutte le professioni 
 del mondo. Venice, 1587 and 1616. 
 
 GAVI, DOMENICO. Della vita di Carlo Goldoni e delle sue com- 
 medie. Lezione quattro. Aggiuntovi dello stesso autore il par- 
 alello tra esso Goldoni, il Metastasio e I'Alfieri. Milan, 1826. 
 
 GAZZA, PAOLO. Carlo Goldoni a Modena. Modena, 1902. 
 
 GEMMA, MARIA. Cenni sulla vita di G. Gozzi. Vicenza, 1907. 
 
 GENTILE, A. Dell' arte di Carlo Goldoni. Rivista teatr. ital., Feb. 
 16, 1901. 
 
 GHERARDI (Editor). Commedie di J. A. Nelli (for sources of Gol- 
 doni). Bologna, 1899. 
 
 GHERARDINI, GIOVANNI. Vita di Carlo Goldoni. Milan, 1821. 
 
 GIGLI, GIROLAMO. Opere edite ed inedite (for La Sorellina di Don 
 Pilone}. Siena, 1797, 2 vols. 
 
 GIOVAGNOLI, R. Goldoni a fronte di Moliere. In " Meditazioni di 
 un brontolone." Rome, 1877. Reprint in C. G. per cura del 
 comitato, Venice, Dec. 30, 1883. 
 Caratteri goldoniani. Fanf. d. domen., Jan. 6, 1884. 
 
652 APPENDICES 
 
 GOETHE, JOHANN WOLFGANG. Itallanlsche Relse. Under Oct. 
 
 10, 1786. Werke, vols. XXX & XXXII, Weimar ed. 
 GOLDONI, CARLO. EDITIONS OF HIS DRAMATIC WORKS. 
 
 1750. Venice, Giuseppe Bettinelli, Vols.? First 3 under Gold.'s su- 
 
 pervision. 
 
 1751. Ibid., Idem. Reprint. 7 vols. 
 
 1751. Bologna, Pisarri Successors. Reprint by Gold, to circumvent 
 Bettinelli (Preface, vol. I, Pasq.; Mun. of Ven., vol. I, p. 
 503). 9 vols. 
 
 1752 ('S3?)- Venice, Bettinelli. 8 vols. 
 
 1752? Bologna, Girolamo Corciolani a S. Tomaso d'Aquino. Vols.? 
 
 1753. Venice, Bettinelli. Without Gold.'s supervision. 9 vols. 
 
 1753. Bologna, Girolamo Corciolani. 13 vols. 
 
 1753-55. Florence, Paperini Successors. 10 vols., 5 plays each. Au- 
 thor's ed. 
 
 1 753- Opere drammatiche glocose. Venice, Giov. Tevernin. 4 vols. 
 
 1753-57. Pesaro, Nicolo Gavelli. 10 vols. Authorised. 
 
 *7 56-59' Turin, Rocco Fantino ed Agostino Olzati. 13 vols. 
 
 1757 ('55?). Venice, Bettinelli. 6 vols., copied from the Paperini ed. 
 The assembled Bettinelli ed. consists of 32 comedies in 8 vols. 
 
 1757-63. Venice, Francesco Pitteri (Nuovo teatro comlco}. 10 vols., 
 4 plays each. Author's ed. 
 
 1757-64. Bologna, Girolamo Corciolani & the Cojli Successors a S. 
 Tomaso d'Aquino (Nuovo teatro comlco}. 12 vols. 
 
 1758. Turin, Rocco Fantino (Nuovo teatro comlco}. Reprint of Pit- 
 teri ed. 
 
 1761 (before). Naples. Referred to by Gold, in preface, vol. I, 
 Pasq. 
 
 1761. Venice, Giambattista Pasquali. 17 vols., 4 plays each, the I7th 
 
 vol. not yet out in 1777 (Spinelli, BlbL, p. 119). Author's ed. 
 
 1762. Bologna, Press of S. Tomaso d'Aquino. Incomplete copy of 
 
 Pasquali ed. 
 1770. Venice, Agostino Savioli. 15 vols. Two incomplete reprints 
 
 the same year. 
 
 1772-74. Turin, Guibert and Orgeas. 16 vols. Authorised. 
 1774-77. Turin, Guibert and Orgeas. 12 vols. 
 1777. Commedle scelte. Venice, Bettinelli. 8 vols. 
 1777-78. Opere drammatiche glocose. Turin, Guibert and Orgeas. 6 
 
 vols. 
 1788-95. Venice, Antonia Zatta e figli. 44 vols. Authorised. The 
 
 Ms. Gold, sent from Paris to make this ed. complete, is lost. 
 1788-93. Leghorn, Tommaso Masi. 31 vols. 
 1788-93. Lucca, Bonsignori, 31 vols. 
 1793-98. Venice, Garbo. 14 vols. 
 1819-21. Prato, per I. F. Giachetti. 30 vols. 
 
 1823-27. Venice, Girolamo Tasso. 45 vols., with Vita di Carlo Gol- 
 donl by Luigi Carrer, in 3 vols., 1824. 
 1827. Prato: Collezlone completa delle commedle. 50 vols.: 17 vols. 
 
 for the librettos, 3 for the Memoirs, and the rest for the 
 
 plays. 
 1907 . Opere Complete dl Carlo Goldonl. Edlte dal Munlclplo di 
 
 Venezla nel 11 centenarlo dalla nasclta. In press. 
 1907 . Commedle dl Carlo Goldonl. Con lllustrazloni artistiche e 
 
 letterarle di van. Florence. In press. Edited by Luigi Rasi. 
 
APPENDICES 653 
 
 COLLECTIONS AND ONE-PLAY EDITIONS. 
 
 The Arabic numerals refer to Appendix A, i. For additional, un- 
 critically edited, one-play editions see Spinelli, Bibl. gold., p. 163 et seq. 
 
 1762. Biblioteca teatrale italiana. Scelta e dlsposta da Ottaviano 
 Diodati. Lucca. Vol. II contains La Buona figliuola 
 (opera), vol. IV has 38, vol. V La Contessina (opera), and 
 vol. XII (1765) contains 101. 
 
 1785. Recueil des pieces de theatre lues par Mr. le Texier en sa 
 maison Lisle Street, Leicester Fields. London, T. Hookham, 
 Bond Street. Vol. IV contains 172. 
 
 1797. // Teatro moderno. Venice. Vol. XV (1797) contains 59, vol. 
 XXIV (1798) has 172, and vol. XXXV (1799) has 130. 
 
 1800. Teatro italiano, raccolta da L. Nardini. London, Dulan & 
 Co., Broad St., Golden Sq. Vol. II contains 130, 142, and 96. 
 
 1800. Les chef-d'ceuvres dramatiques de diaries Goldoni, traduits 
 pour la premiere fois en franqais avec le texte italien a cote 
 de la traduction, un discours preliminaire, des notes et une 
 analyse raisonnee de chaque piece. Par M. A. A (mar). D(u). 
 R(ivier). Lyons and Paris, 3 vols. Contains: 38, 126, 114, 
 48, 88, 95, and 8. 
 
 1810. Theatre des auteurs du second ordre. Paris. Vol. XIII con- 
 tains 172, which is also in vol. XVI (1804) of the Repertoire 
 du theatre franqais, Paris, P. Didot 1'aine, and in Repertoire 
 general du theatre jr., vol. XLVIII (1813), Paris. 
 
 1810. Scelta delle commedie di Carlo Goldoni, unite insieme da 
 Fraporta (I. G.}. Leipzig, 4 vols. 
 
 1820. Compagno della mia grammatica. Londra, B. & S. Gardiner. 
 
 Contains 88. 
 
 1821. Classici italiani. Milan. Commedie scelte di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 Contains: Vol. I: Vita di C. G., and 95, 41, 38, and 34; 
 vol. II: 59, 26, 97, 45, and 74; vol. Ill: 143, 144, 145, 43, 
 and 48; vol. IV: 84, 127, 128, 129, and 90. 
 1818. La Moglie saggia (52). John Stokes, printer, London. 
 
 1822. Saggio del teatro italiano moderno. London, W. B. Whit- 
 
 taker. Vol. I has 126. 
 1822. Teatro italiano. London, R. Zotti. Vol. I contains 130, 142, 
 
 and 96; vol. II: 30. 
 1824. Bellingeri: Scelta di alcune commedie del Goldoni. Paris, 
 
 Fayolle. 
 1825-27. Scelta di commedie di Carlo Goldoni. Milan, 10 vols. 
 
 1828. Montucci, A.: Scelta completa di tutte le migliori commedie di 
 
 Carlo Goldoni, per uso della studiosa gioventu oltramontana. 
 Leipzig, 2 vols. 
 
 1829. Teatro classico italiano antico e moderno, owvero: II Parnasso 
 
 teatrale. Introduzione del Prof. F. Salfi. Leipzig. Contains: 
 76, 59, and 126. 
 
 1831. Scelta di alcune commedie del Goldoni. Paris, Fayolle, nth 
 ed. See 1824. 
 
 1837. Teatro scelto italiano, con note biograficke da A. Ronna. Paris. 
 
 Contains 172. 
 
 1838. La France dramatique au XlX e siecle. Paris. Vol. II contains 
 
 172. 
 
 1847. Gherardini: Scelta di commedie del Goldoni, colla vita dell' 
 autore scritta da . Paris, i4th ed. 
 
654 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 1852. Scelta di alcune commedie dell' Awocato C. Goldoni. Florence, 
 G. Moro. 
 
 1856. Raffaello Nocchi: Commedie scelte di Carlo Goldoni pubblicate 
 
 per cura di . Florence, 1906 (ist ed. in 1856). Contains: 
 95, 74, !25> 34, 59, 172, and 120. 
 
 1857. F. Cameroni: Capolavori di Carlo Goldoni. lllustrati da G. 
 
 Prosdocimi. Trieste, 2 vols. Contains 60 plays. 
 
 1858. Selections from Italian Authors. Edinburg and London. Con- 
 
 tains 172 and 139. 
 
 1890. Rev. A. C. Clapin, M.A.: 59, 41, and 172, with notes and vo- 
 
 cabulary. In the Biblioteca italiana, Librairie Hachette, Lon- 
 don, Paris, Boston. 
 
 1891. Teatro scelto di Carlo Goldoni, illustrato da Giacomo Man- 
 
 tegazza. Milan. 
 
 1893. Mario Menghini: "II Ventaglio," commentato ad uso delle 
 scuole da . Florence. 
 
 1897. Ernesto Masi: Scelta di commedie di Carlo Goldoni. Flor- 
 ence, 2 vols. Vol. I contains 26, 43, 33, 34, and 60; vol. II: 
 120, 125, 123, 139, 143, and 172. The general preface and 
 the Nota preliminare to each play are important. 
 
 1901. Giuseppe Lesca: " Le Bourru bienfaisant" di Goldoni, con 
 commento. Florence. 
 
 1901. G. Tambara: "La Locandiera," con introduzione e commento. 
 
 Turin. 
 
 1902. A. Fabre: Carlo Goldoni e Vittorio A I fieri. Luoghi scelti ed 
 
 annotati. Turin. 
 
 1902. Geddes and Josselyn: // Fero amico. Introduction, notes, vo- 
 cabulary. Boston. 
 
 1902. Emma B. Conigliani: La Famiglia dell' Antiquario. With 
 notes. Turin. Idem: Pamela nubile. 
 
 1902. Adolfo Padovan: Commedie scelte di Carlo Goldoni. Anno- 
 tate di A. P. con un proemio di Giuseppe Giacosa su I' Arte 
 di C. G. Milan. Contains: 52, 172, 120, 125, 123, 60, 59. 
 
 1904. A. Mondino: "La Famiglia dell' antiquario" di C. G. con 
 
 note di . Leghorn. 
 
 1905. Giov. Scollianti: La Donna prudente e scene vane di C. G. 
 
 Turin. 
 
 1907. Ferdinando Martini: Capolavori di Carlo Goldoni, preceduti 
 da uno studio critico di . Florence. 
 
 1907. Geddes and Josselyn: La Locandiera. Introduction, notes, vo- 
 
 cabulary. Boston. 
 
 1908. J. D. M. Ford: Un Curioso accidente. Introduction and notes. 
 
 Boston. 
 
 PRINTED COLLECTIONS OF GOLDONI'S CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 A. CAPPELLI. Letter e inedite di Pietro Metastasio, Carlo Goldoni, 
 
 Vittorio A I fieri. Modena, 1864 and 1872. 
 
 CESAROTTI, M. Epistolario scelto di C. Goldoni. Alvisopoli, 1826. 
 CIAMPI, IGNAZIO. Lettere di C. Goldoni al Marchese Albergati, 
 
 specialmente da Parigi. In II Pirata. Turin, 1862-63-64. 
 CLARETIE, JULES. Goldoni et la Comedie Franc,aise (Une lettre 
 
 inedite de Goldoni}. In L'ltalie et la France; Revue Illus- 
 
 tree, Feb. 5, 1907. 
 FIAMMAZZO, A. Due lettere di C. Goldoni. In Pagine friulane, 
 
 N. n, Udine, 1898. 
 
APPENDICES 655 
 
 GENTILE, A. Una lettera inedita di Carlo Goldoni. In Archeografo 
 
 Triestino, vol. XXIII (N. S.), 1900. 
 
 LI VI, G. Una lettera del Goldoni. In Illustr. ital., N. 45, 1895. 
 LOHNER, E. VON-. Due lettere di Carlo Goldoni. In Archivio 
 
 veneto, vol. XXIII, P. II, 1882. 
 MADDALENA, E. Una lettera inedita del Goldoni. In Raccolta di 
 
 Studi critic! dedicata ad A. D'Ancona. Florence, 1901. Its date 
 
 is April 26, 1773. 
 Lettere inedite del Goldoni. Estratto dalla Flegrea. Naples, 
 
 March 20, 1901. 
 Lettere del Goldoni annotate da . Venice, 1907. Seven: 
 
 1754-91. 
 MANTOVANI, DINO. Carlo Goldoni e il teatro di San Luca a 
 
 Venezia. Carteggio inedito (1755-1765}. Con prefazione e 
 
 note. Milan, 1884. Reprint in La Biblioteca araena, N. 719, 
 
 1907. 
 
 Tre lettere goldoniane. In Fanf. della domen., 1883. 
 MASI, ERNESTO. Lettere di Carlo Goldoni con proemio e note. 
 
 Bologna, 1880. Important for the period 1762-1791. 
 NERI, ACHILLE. Una lettera ignota di Carlo Goldoni (of 1779). 
 
 In Natura ed Arte, vol. Ill, 1894. 
 NOVATI, F. Due lettere del Goldoni. In Rassegna bibl. della lett. 
 
 ital., vol. IV, Pisa, 1896. 
 NOVELLI, A. E. Lettera di Goldoni a Girolamo Medebac. In A. E. 
 
 Novelli inaugurante nel Teatro Valle la Casa di Goldoni. 
 
 Rome, Nov. i, 1900. 
 PARAVIA. Lettere di Carlo Goldoni pubblicate per la felice nozze 
 
 Corinaldl-Treves. Venice, 1839. 
 
 RIVISTA DI ROMA, Feb. 10, 1907. Quattro lettere di Carlo Gol- 
 doni. 
 ROBERTI, T. Una lettera del Goldoni (of 1780). In Rassegna naz., 
 
 April i, 1884. 
 Lettera inedita di Carlo Goldoni (Per Nozze Bertolini-Lugo). 
 
 Bassano, 1881. 
 SPINELLI, A. & A. Lettere di Carlo Goldoni e di Girolamo Mede- 
 
 bach al Conte Giuseppe Arconati-Visconti. Tratte doll' Ar- 
 
 chivio Sola-Busca di Milano. Milan, 1882. 
 SPINELLI, A. G. Fogli sparsi del Goldoni raccolti da. Milan, 
 
 1885. 
 TAMBARA, G. Una lettera inedita di Carlo Goldoni. In Biblioteca 
 
 d. scuole ital., vol. V, 1893. 
 
 URBAN! DE GHELTOF, G. M. Lettere di Carlo Goldoni con pref- 
 azione e note, aggiuntovi il vocabolario di C. Goldoni ad in- 
 
 terpretazione delle di lui commedie. Venice, 1880. 
 
 GOZZI, CARLO. La Tartana degl' influsst per I'anno bisestile 1757 
 
 (sic). Paris, 1756. 
 
 Fiabe teatrali. Venice, 1772; Bologna, 2 vols., 1885, ed. by Er- 
 nesto Masi. 
 
 Memorie inutili della vita di Carlo Gozzi, scritte da lui medesimo 
 e pubblicate per umilta. Venice, 3 vols., 1797; a cura di Giu- 
 seppe Prezzolini, in collection of Scrittori d'ltalia, Bari, 1910. 
 See J. A. Symonds. 
 
 GOZZI, GASPARO. Gazetta veneta. Ed. from Feb. 8, 1760, until Jan. 
 31, 1761, when Pietro Chiari became the editor. 103 numbers. 
 
656 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 GOZZI, GASPARO continued. 
 
 L'Osservatore veneto. Venice, 12 vols., 1768; Florence, 1897. IO 4 
 
 numbers. 
 Scritti di Gasparo Gozzi, scelti ed ordinatl da N. Tommaseo. 
 
 Florence, 3 vols., 1848-49. 
 Op ere scelte. Naples, 1879. 
 GRAF, A. Per il Goldoni psicologo. Per il II centenario della nas- 
 
 cita di C. G. (See under Broglio, L. G.), 1907. 
 U Anglomania e I'infiusso ingles e in Italia nel secolo XV 111 (For 
 
 A, i, 69 & 80). Turin, 1911. 
 GRAZZINI, ANTON, F. (II Lasca). De' Tutti trionfi, earn, mas- 
 
 cherite o canti carnascialeschi del tempo di Lorenzo de' Medici 
 
 a quest' anno 1559 (Canto di Zanni e Magnifichi). 
 GRIMM, LE BARON DE- (et par Diderot). Correspondence litteraire, 
 
 philosophique et critique adressee a un souverain d'Allemagne 
 
 (1753-1790}. Paris, 3 Parts, 16 vols. and a supplement, 1812- 
 
 13. See Maurice Tourneux. 
 
 GUASTALLA, R. Antologia goldoniana. Leghorn, 1908. 
 GUASTI, C. // Goldoni a Firenze. Archivio veneto, vol. I, P. II, 
 
 1871. 
 GUBERNATIS, ANGELO DE-. Carlo Goldoni: Corso di lezioni 
 
 fatte nell' universita di Roma nell' anno scolastico 1910-11. 
 
 Florence, 1911. 
 GUERZONI, GIUSEPPE. // Teatro italiano nel secolo XVIII (Carlo 
 
 Goldoni. La Commedia goldoniana. I Rusteghi. Goldoni e 
 
 Moliere. II Burbero benefico. Gian Giacomo Rousseau}. 
 
 Milan, 1876. 
 
 HAMMOND, E. P. Shakespeare's Fools. Atlantic Monthly, vol. CVI, 
 
 1910. 
 
 HORNE, CHARLES F. The Technique of the Novel New York, 1908. 
 HORRIDGE, FRANK. Lives of Great Italians. London, 1897. 
 
 JACOBS, FRIEDRICH. Nachtrdge zu Sulzers allgemeiner Theorie der 
 schonen Kiinste: Charaktere der vornehmsten Dichter aller 
 Nationen, etc. Leipzig, 1793, vol. II. 
 
 KERN, F. Goethes Tasso und Kuno Fischer, nebst einem Anhange: 
 
 Goethes Tasso und Goldonis Tasso. Berlin, 1892. 
 KLEIN, J. L. Geschichte des italienischen Drama's. Leipzig, vol. Ill, 
 
 xer Abt., 1868. 
 KLINGER, O. Die Comedie Italienne in Paris nach der Sammlung von 
 
 Gherardi. Strassburg, 1902. 
 KOK, A. S. Carlo Goldoni en het italiaansche blyspel. Amsterdam, 
 
 1875. 
 
 LA HARPE, J. F. DE-. Cours de litter ature ancienne et moderne. 
 Paris, 1800-18. 
 
 LANDAU, MARCUS. Carlo Goldoni. Beilage zur Miinchner Allg. 
 
 Zeitung, Ns. 43, 52 & 53, 1896. 
 
 Geschichte der italienischen Litteratur im XVIII Jahrhundert (vol. 
 I, 26 Abt., Chap. II). Berlin, 1899. 
 
 LANSON, G. Nivelle de la Chaussee et la comedie larmoyante. Paris, 
 1887. 
 
 LARDNER, REV. DIONYSIUS (Editor). The Cabinet Cyclopedia. 
 Eminent Literary and Scientific Men of Italy, Spain, and Por- 
 tugal. Vol. II, London, 1835. 
 
APPENDICES 657 
 
 LARROUMET, G. Marivaux, sa vie et ses ceuvres. Paris, 1894. 
 LAZZARI, A. // Padre di Goldoni. Rivista d' Italia, Rome, Feb., 1907. 
 
 Carlo Goldoni in Romagna. Ateneo veneto, Venice, 1908. 
 LEE, VERNON. Studies of the Eighteenth Century in Italy. London, 
 1881. Second ed., with new preface, ibid., 1906. Italian transl., 
 Milan, 1882. 
 LEVI, CESARE. Letter atur a dramatica: Chap. XII, La Reforma del 
 
 teatro in Italia, Metastasio, Goldoni, Alfieri. Milan, 1900. 
 Goldoni nel teatro. Ateneo veneto, Venice, Anno XXIV, vol. I, 
 
 1901. 
 Saggio di bibliografia degli studi critici su Carlo Gozzi. Riv. d. 
 
 Bibliot. e d. Archivi, Florence, 1906. 
 
 La Giovinezza di Carlo Goldoni. Florentia nova, Anno V, 1907. 
 // Goldoni, personaggio di teatro. Rivista d'ltalia, Rome, Feb., -,._ 
 
 1907. 
 Nicoletta e Armanda. Florence, 1907. (Comparison of Gold.'s 
 
 wife with Armande Bejart, wife of Moliere.) 
 Contributo alia bibliografia della critica goldoniana. Florence, 
 
 1907. 
 
 LINTILHAC, E. " L'Ecossaise " de Voltaire. Revue des cours et con- 
 ferences, Feb. 24, 1897-98. 
 
 LOHNER, E. VON-. Carlo Goldoni e le sue Memorie. Frammenti. 
 Archivio veneto, vols. XXIII & XXIV, Venice, 1882. 
 
 (Editor). Nota della campagna de' comici di San Samuele di 
 
 Venezia. Ibid., vol. XXVI, 1882. 
 
 (Editor). Memoir es de M. Goldoni pour servir a I'histoire de 
 
 sa vie et a celle de son theatre. Dedies au roi. Tome premier. 
 
 Ristampate sull' edizione originale di Parigi MDCCLXXXVII 
 
 e corredate con annotazioni. Venice. 1883. 
 
 See also under Printed Collections of Goldoni's Correspondence. 
 LONGO, E. Carlo Goldoni nell' epistolario del Carli. Pagine istriane, 
 
 Anno V. 
 LOPEZ, S ABATING. La Locandiera. Pel 11 centenario di C. G. 
 
 (See under L. G. Broglio). 
 LUDER, H. A. Carlo Goldoni in seinem Verhdltnls zu Moliere. Ein 
 
 Beitrag zur Geschichte der dramatischen Litteratur Italiens im 
 
 iSten Jahrhundert. Oppeln, 1883. 
 LUNGO, J. DEL-. Lingua e Dialetto nelle commedie del Goldoni. 
 
 Nuova Antologia, Feb. i, 1912. 
 
 MADDALENA, EDGARDO. Noterelle goldoniane. II Dalmata, Zara, 
 vol. XXVI, 4 & 7 Nov., 1891. 
 
 "La Bottega del caffe." II Dalmata, Zara, vol. XXVI, Nov., 1891. 
 
 " La Dalmatina." II Dalmata, Zara, Aug. 8, 1891. 
 
 Una Commedia dimenticata (II Giuocatore}. Noterelle gol- 
 doniane. Citta di Castello, 1892. 
 
 " L'Erede fortunata." II Dalmata, Zara, vol. XXVII, Jan.-Feb., 
 1892. 
 
 Goethe e il Goldoni. Fanfulla della Domenica, N. 36, 1892. 
 
 Fonti goldoniane: "La Finta ammalata." Anteneo veneto, * 
 Nov.-Dec., 1893. 
 
 "La Locandiera." Noterelle goldoniane. Giornale Ligustico, Ge- 
 noa, vol. XX, 1893. 
 
 Bricciche goldoniane: " Le Baruffe chiozzotte." Alessandria, 
 1894. 
 
APPENDICES 
 
 MADDALENA, EDGARDO continued. 
 
 Sul " Fero amico " di Carlo Goldoni; jonti ed aneddoti. Ateneo 
 
 veneto, May-Aug., 1896. 
 
 Un Libretto del Goldoni. Corriere Naz. di Zara. Trieste, 1897. 
 Giuoco e giuocatori nel teatro del Goldoni. Resoconto annuale 
 
 dell' Accademia di Commercio. Vienna, 1898. 
 Aneddoti intorno al " Servitor e di due padroni." Ateneo veneto, 
 
 Vol. I, 1898. 
 
 Bricciche goldoniane: La Visita al Voltaire. Pitigliano, 1898. 
 Figurine goldoniane: Capitan Fracass</. Rivista dalmatica, Zara, 
 
 1899. 
 
 Goldoni e Fa<vart. Ateneo veneto, anno XXII, vol. I, 1899. 
 Una Diavoleria di titoli e di cifre. Flegrea, Naples, May 20, 
 
 1900. 
 Paravia e Goldoni. Nota btbliografica. Antologia veneta. Fel- 
 
 tre, 1900. 
 Libretti del Goldoni e d 1 altri. Rivista musicale ital., vol. VII, 
 
 Turin, 1900. 
 "La Serva amorosa" del Goldoni. Rivista dalmatica, Zara, Jan., 
 
 1900. 
 
 Goldoniana. Giorn. Stor. e Lett, di Liguria, vol. II, 1901. 
 Uno Scenario inedito. From the Bibl. Palatina in Vienna; publ. 
 
 in the Sitzungsberichte der Kaiserl. Akademie der Wissen- 
 
 schaften, Vienna, phil.-hist. Klasse, CXLIII (1901), P. 16, if. 
 Intorno alia " Famiglia dell' antiquario " di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 Rivista teatr. ital., anno I, vol. I, fasc. 5, 6, 7, Naples, 1901. 
 Goldoni e Npta. Rivista polit. e lett., Rome, July, 1901. 
 Moratin e Goldoni. Pagine istriane, anno II, Capodistria, 1905. 
 Scene e figure molieresche imitate dal Goldoni. Rivista teatr. 
 
 Ital., vol. X, Naples, 1905. 
 Lessing e Goldoni. Giorn. stor. della Lett, ital., vol. XLVII, 
 
 Turin, 1906. 
 
 Un Finto Goldoni. Ateneo veneto a Carlo Goldoni, 1907. 
 La Fortuna della " Locandiera " fuori d'ltalia. Rivista d'ltalia, 
 
 Rome, Nov., 1907. 
 Goldoni nel 1907. Estratto del Palvese, Giorn. lett. della Do- 
 
 menica, N. VI, Trieste, 1907. 
 Carlo Goldoni nel secondo centenario della sua nascita. Trieste, 
 
 1908. 
 r Di un capolavoro goldoniano: "II Bugiardo." Miscellanea di 
 
 studi in onore di Attilio Hortis, Trieste, 1910. 
 Le Traduzioni del " Ventaglio." Rivista teatr. ital., vol. XV, 
 
 Florence, 1911. See also under Goldoni's Correspondence. 
 MAGNIN, C. Les Commencements de la comedie italienne en France. 
 
 Revue des deux mondes, vol. XX, 1847. 
 MALAMANI, VITTORIO. Carlo Goldoni. Nuova Rivista, Turin, Ns. 
 
 50, 51, 52, 53; 1882. 
 Carlo Goldoni a Bologna nel 1762, in C. G., numero unico, Venice, 
 
 Dec. 20, 1883. 
 
 Di un documento goldoniano. Nuova Rivista, vol. XII, 1884. 
 Per Carlo Goldoni. La Venezia, Dec. 30, 1884. The reprint is 
 
 of 1885, Venice. 
 A proposito di un " Nerone" goldoniano. Giorn. stor. di lett. ital., 
 
 vol. V, 1885. 
 La Satira del costume a Venezia nel secolo XVIII. Turin, 1886. 
 
APPENDICES 659 
 
 Nuovi appunti e curiosita goldoniane. Venice, 1887. 
 
 Gasparo Gozzi. Nuovo Archivio veneto, vol. i, 1891. 
 
 // Settecento a Venezia (collection of verse with comment), Turin, 
 
 2 vols, 1891-92. 
 // Carnovale di Venezia nel secolo XVIII. Nuova Antol., Feb. 15, 
 
 1896. 
 L'Episodio goldoniano delle sedlci commedie nuove. Aten. ven. a 
 
 C. G., 1907, Jan.-Feb. (which see). 
 MANGA, STANIS. Gli Ultimi goldoniani. Riv. d'ltalia, anno VII, 
 
 vol. I, 1904. 
 MANDO, FERRUCCIO. // Piu prossimo precursore di Carlo Goldoni 
 
 (Jacopo Angela Nelli). Florence, 1904. 
 
 MANTOVANI, DINO. See under Goldoni's Correspondence. 
 // Carattere di Goldoni. II Tirso, Rome, Feb. 24, 1907. 
 MANTZIUS, KARL. A History of Theatrical Art in Ancient and Mod- 
 ern Times. Translated by Louise von Cossel. London, 5 vols., 
 1903. 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS. Zibaldone comico di VaAi Suggetti di Comedie ed 
 
 Opere bellissime, copiate da me Antonio Passanti detto Oratio 
 
 il Calabrese per comando dell' Ecc. s ig. Conte di Casamar- 
 
 ciano 1700. In the Museo Nazionale of Naples. 
 
 Codice (Raccolta) Cicogna delle miscellanee Correr. Especially 
 
 Ns. 685, 1465, 1890, 2395, 1601. In the Museo Civico of Venice. 
 Gradenigo, Notatorj (1751-1767?}. Museo Civico of Venice. 
 Gennari, G., Conaca. Library of the Seminario of Padua. 
 MARANZANA, F. U. Un Tipo fortunato: (( II Bugiardo." Gazz. 
 
 lett., Turin, Oct. 10, 1885. 
 MARCHINI-CAPASSO, OLGA. Goldoni e la commedia dell' arte. 
 
 Bergamo, 1907. 
 
 MARCONI, A. See Ferrari, B. U. 
 MARMONTEL, J. F. (Euvres completes, Paris, 19 vols., 1818. (Contes 
 
 moraux and Memoires.) 
 
 MARTINI, FERDINANDO. La Vita italiana nel settecento. Confer- 
 enze tenute a Firenze, 1895. Confer enza: Carlo Goldoni t 
 1707-1793. Milan, 1896. Reprint in Simpatie (Studi e Ricordi), 
 Florence, 1900. 
 
 See also under Collections and One-Play Editions, 1907. 
 MARTUCCI, G. Carlo Goldoni e il suo soggiorno a Roma. Rassegna 
 
 nazionale, Florence, vol. XXIX, June i, 1886. 
 A proposito di studi goldoniani: Osservazioni spicciole. Ibid., 
 
 vol. XXXII, 1886. 
 MASI, ERNESTO. La Vita, i tempi, gli amid di Francesco Albergati, 
 
 commediografo del secolo XVIII. Bologna, 1878. 
 La Vita e le opere di Carlo Goldoni. Introduction to his " Lettere 
 di C. G. con proemio e note," which see under Goldoni's Corre- 
 spondence. Bologna, 1880. 
 
 I Critici di Carlo Gozzi. Fanfulla della Domenica, Dec., 1881. 
 Pamela e Madame Angpt. Ibid., Feb. 17, 1884. 
 Le Fiabe di Carlo Gozzi. Bologna, 1885. 
 
 Politica goldoniana. Goldoni e Leonarda da Vinci. Altri ap- 
 punti goldoniani. In Parrucche e Sanculotti nel secolo XVIII, 
 Milan, 1886. 
 
 Sulla storia del teatro italiano nel secolo XVIII: Studi di . 
 Florence, 1891. (Especially the chapters on Carlo Gozzi e le sue 
 fiabe teatrali and Carlo Goldoni e Pietro Longhi.) 
 Pel Centenario di Carlo Goldoni. Nuova Antol., Feb. i, 1893. 
 
660 APPENDICES 
 
 MASI, ERNESTO continued. 
 
 Scelta di commedie di Carlo Goldoni. See under " Collections and 
 
 One-play editions," 1897. 
 Carlo Goldoni. Discorso di E. M. nel salone del cinguecento il 
 
 25 febbraio, iQoy. Florence, 1907. 
 Goldoni e I'Olanda. II Palvese, Feb. 25, 1910. 
 MATHAR, L. Carlo Goldoni auf dem Deutschen Theater des XVIII 
 
 Jahrhunderts. Munich, 1910. 
 MAYNIAL, EDOUARD. Casanova et son temps. Mercure de France. 
 
 Paris, 1911. 
 
 MAZZONI, GUIDO. Carlo Goldoni. Illustrazione ital., Feb. 24, 1907. 
 Memorle dl Carlo Goldoni. Rlprodotte Integralmente dalla edl- 
 zlone orlglnale francese. Con prefazlone e note. Florence, 2 
 vols., 1907. 
 
 L'Ottocento. in Storla letterarla d'ltalla. Milan. 
 
 MENEGHEZZI, FERDINANDO. Delia Vita e delle opere dl Carlo 
 Goldoni. Memorle istoriche, apologetlche e crltlche. Milan, 
 1827. 
 MERCY, F. Les quatre masques du theatre Itallen. Revue des deux 
 
 mondes, vol. XXIII, 1840. 
 See also his three other articles on Le theatre en Italle, ibid., vols. 
 
 XXI, XXII & XXIII. 
 MERLATO, MARIA. Marltl e cavalier serventi nelle commedie del 
 
 Goldoni; Riv. teatr. ital., anno VI, vol. II, 1906. 
 MERZ, J. Carlo Goldoni In seiner Stellung zum franzoslschen Lustsplel: 
 
 Elne Quellenuntersuchung. Leipzig, 1903. 
 
 MIGNON, MAURICE. Etudes de litterature Itallenne. Paris, 1913. 
 MINOR, J. Wahrheit und Luge auf dem Theater und In der Lltteratur. 
 
 Euphorion, 1896. 
 
 MODENA A CARLO GOLDONI NEL SECONDO CENTENARIO 
 DELLA SUA NASCITA. Pubblicazione a cura del Municipio 
 e della cassa di risparmio. Modena, 1907. Contains these ar- 
 ticles: 
 Memorie sulla vita di Carlo Goldoni. Carlo Borghi. See under 
 
 Borghi. 
 Cenni sulla famlglla dl Carlo Goldoni. A. G. Spinelli and E. 
 
 P. Vicini. 
 Saggio di un elenco delle lettere a stampa dl Carlo Goldoni. A. 
 
 G. Spinelli. 
 Commedie e melodramml del Goldoni rappresentatl In Modena. 
 
 Idem. 
 Versl attinenti al Goldoni uscltl in Modena nel secolo XVIII. 
 
 Idem. 
 
 Paolo Ferrari e Carlo Goldoni. Idem. 
 Note goldoniane edlte in Modena. Idem. 
 Note goldoniane raccolte fuorl dl Modena. Idem. 
 Carlo Goldoni a Modena. Paolo Gazza. See under Gazza. 
 Carlo Goldoni e II Teatro francese del suo tempo. G. Bertoni. 
 
 See under Bertoni. 
 
 Appunti per una bibliografia goldonlana modenese. A. G. Spi- 
 nelli. 
 Modena a Venezia Venezia a Modena, pel 2 centenario dalla 
 
 nasclta di C. G. 
 
 Indice analitlco. Achille Martini. 
 
 MOLAND, LOUIS. Mollere et la comedle italienne. Paris, 2d ed., 
 1867. 
 
APPENDICES 66 1 
 
 MOLMENTI, P. G. Carlo Goldoni. Studio critico-biografico. 2d ed., 
 Venice, 1880. 
 
 Carlo Goldoni. In Corriere della sera, Jan. 7-8, 1893. 
 
 // Moliere e il Goldoni. Numero unico, Primo centenario di C. G. 
 Venice, 1893. 
 
 La Vie privee a Venlse depuis I'origine jusqu'a la chute de la 
 republique. 2d French ed., Venice, 1895. 
 
 Le Gente di teatro al tempo del Goldoni. Fanfulla della Domen- 
 ica, May 26, 1897. 
 
 // Teatro drammatico nella vecchia Venezia. Fanfulla della 
 Dom., July 12, 1903. 
 
 Carlo Goldoni. II Marzocco, Florence, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 
 Carlo Goldoni e i Dalmati. II Piccolo, Trieste, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 
 La Citta del Goldoni. Emporium, vol. XXV, Bergamo, 1907. 
 
 / Saluti e le ceremonie a Venezia al tempo del Goldoni. In Soc- 
 corriamo i poveri bambini rachiciti. Strenna 1907, Anno XIX, 
 Venice. 
 
 Ullluminazione di Venezia al tempi di Goldoni. In Pel 11 cen- 
 tenario della nascita di C. G., Milan, 1907. 
 
 La Villeggiatura dei veneziani al tempo del Goldoni. Ed. Rasi. 
 
 La Storia di Venezia nella vita privata dalle origini alia caduta 
 della republica. $th ed., profusely illustrated; vol. I: La 
 Grandezza; vol. II: Lo Splendore; vol. Ill: // Decadimento. 
 Bergamo, 1910. ^n 
 
 MOMIGLIANO, A. Lo Stile e I'umorismo nel " Bugiardo." Asti, 1904. f V 
 
 Truffaldino e Smeraldina nel " Servitor e di due padroni." 
 L'ltalia moderna, 1906. 
 
 "// Campiello" di Carlo Goldoni. Ibid., Rome, Jan. 31, 1907. 
 
 // Mondo poetico del Goldoni. Ibid., March 15, 1907. 
 MONNIER, PHILIPPE. Venise au XVIII* siecle. Lausanne, 1907. 
 
 Anonymous English translation: Boston, 1910. ./' 
 
 MOORE, CHARLES L. The Eighteenth Century Come Again. The ' 
 
 Dial, Chicago, Sep. 18, 1911. 
 MORETTI, A. J. A. Nelli. Rassegna nazionale, Feb. i, 1890. (Nelli 
 
 an important source for Goldoni.) 
 MORLEY, JOHN. Voltaire. London, 1872. 
 
 MURRAY, J. R. The Influence of Italian upon English Literature dur- 
 ing the XVIth and XVIIth Centuries. Cambridge, 1886. 
 MUSATTI, CESARE. Goldoni in scena. Numero unico: Primo cen- 
 tenario di C. G. Venice, 1893. 
 
 Drammi musicali di Goldoni e d'altri, tratti dalle sue commedie. 
 Ateneo veneto, vol. XXI, Venice, 1898. Reprint: Bassano, 1900. 
 
 / Drammi musicali di Carlo Goldoni; appunti bibliografici e 
 cronologici. Ateneo veneto, vol. XXV, 1902. 
 
 Dal Vocabolario veneziano di Carlo Goldoni. Ibid., Jan.-Feb., 
 1906. 
 
 // Gergo dei barcaiuoli veneziani e Carlo Goldoni. Ibid., Jan.- 
 Feb., 1907. 
 
 " Le Donne de casa soa" e una satira contra Goldoni. II Pal- 
 vese, Trieste, Feb. 24, 1907. (Satire is a letter by " N. H. N. N." 
 = Giorgio Baffo.) 
 
 Goldoni e la medicina. Marzocco, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 
 // Teatro della commedia a Venezia al tempo di Goldoni. La 
 Vedetta, Fiume, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 
 Goldoni e I'allattamento moderno. In Soccorriamo i poveri bam- 
 bini rachitici. Strenna pel 1907, Venice. (For A, i, 82.) 
 
662 APPENDICES 
 
 MUSATTI, CESARE continued. 
 
 Spunt'i di dialetto venezlano nei " Rusteghi" di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 Venice, 1910. 
 Carlo Goldoni e il vocabolario veneziano. Venice, 1913. 
 
 NATALI, G. Carlo Goldoni a Pavia. Bollettino della societa pavese 
 
 di storia patria, vol. VII, Pavia, 1907. 
 
 // Pensiero sociale di C. Goldoni. Letture venete, March i, 1907. 
 NERI, ACHILLE. Aneddoti goldoniani. Ancona, 1883. This book of 
 
 82 pages embodies the first five of the following articles: 
 Un Giudizio di C. G. intorno a Shakespeare. Riv. Europ., voL 
 
 XXII, 1880. 
 
 P. G. Grosley e C. G. Ibid., vol. XXIII, 1881. 
 C. G. e i liberi muratori. Ibid., vol. XXVI, 1881. 
 C. G. e Scipione Mafiei. Ibid., vol. XXVII, 1882. 
 Comante, Aurisbe, e Polisseno Fegeio. Fanfulla della Domenica,, 
 
 June 18, 1882. 
 Una Commedia dell'arte. Giorn. Stor., vol. I, 1883. (// Medico 
 
 volante, Bartoli, p. 105, and analysis of manner in which it was 
 
 used to make a modern comedy.) 
 Bibliografia goldoniana. Giorn. degli eruditi e curiosi, Padua, 
 
 vol. Ill, 1883. (A discussion of various editions of Gold.'s 
 
 works.) 
 Un Ritratto del Goldoni. Illustrazione ital., Milan, numbers 
 
 XX-XXII, 1884. 
 A proposito di " Un Tipo fortunato." Gazzetta letteraria, Turin, 
 
 Oct. 24, 1885. (A discussion of article by F. U. Maranzana, 
 
 which see.) 
 Studi bibliografici e letter 'ari. Genoa, 1890. Embodies next two 
 
 articles: 
 L'Ultima opera di Carlo Goldoni. Num. unico Carlo Goldoni t 
 
 Venice, Sep. 20, 1883. 
 L'Ultima supplica di Carlo Goldoni. Gazzetta letter., Turin, Oct. 
 
 2, 1887. 
 Una Lettera ignota di Carlo Goldoni. Natura ed Arte, Milan, 
 
 Feb. 5, 1893-94. 
 Aneddoti contemporanei intorno al " Bourru bienfaisant." Bib- 
 
 lioteca delle scuole italiane, Oct. 15, 1893. 
 Carlo Goldoni in Francia. Natura ed Arte, Milan, vol. XII, 
 
 1896-97. 
 Una Fonte dell' Ecossaise di Voltaire. Rass. bibl. della lett. ital.,, 
 
 Pisa, Feb. 2, 1899. 
 La Pensione della Republica Francese a Carlo Goldoni morente.. 
 
 Illustrazione popolare, Feb. 24, 1907. 
 
 La Casa dove morl Carlo Goldoni. Ibid., Feb. 24, 1907. 
 Andrea (sic) Chenier e Carlo Goldoni. La Maschera, Naples, 
 
 Feb. 24, 1907. 
 ' Confidenti' in una commedia del Goldoni (A, i, 34). Soccor- 
 
 riamo i poveri bambini rachitici, Strenna pel 1907, Venice. 
 Passatempi goldoniani. Ateneo veneto, Jan.-Feb., 1907. Em- 
 bodies next two articles. 
 La Voce del contemporanei. Ibid., 1907. 
 Autodifesa del Goldoni. Ibid., 1907. 
 NEUBAUER, CARL. Carlo Goldoni. Ein Gedenltblatt zum 200** 
 
 Geburtstage (25 Februar 1907}. Biihne und Welt, vol. IX, 
 
 1907. (Important for Gold.'s vogue in Germany.) 
 
APPENDICES 663 
 
 NOVELLI, AUGUSTO. La Casa di Goldoni. Rass. internazionale, 
 Florence, vol. II, 1900. 
 
 OLIVA, DOMENICO. Carlo Goldoni. Giorn. d'ltalia, Feb. 24, 1907. 
 "// Campiello" di Carlo Goldoni. Ibid., Nov. 24, 1907. 
 "L'Avaro" di C. G. Ibid., April i, 1910. 
 ORTESCHI, LUIGI. Sulle passioni, i costumi e il modo di vivere de' 
 
 Veneziani. Venice, 1859. 
 
 ORTIZ, MARIA. // Canone principale della poetica goldoniana. 
 Memoria Jresentata alia R. Accad. di Archeologia, Letter e e 
 Belle Arti. Naples, 1905. 
 Commedie esotiche del Goldoni. Riv. teatr. ital., Naples, vols. 
 
 IX-X, 1905. 
 
 Goldoni e Regnard. Ibid., vol. XI, 1906. 
 La Cultura del Goldoni. Giorn. stor. della lett. ital., vol. XLVIII, 
 
 1906. 
 
 Goldoni in Francia. Chorus, Naples, Sep. 15, 1906. 
 Goldoni e Maffei. Soccorriamo i poveri bambini rachitici. 
 
 Strenna pel 1907, Venice. 
 ORTOLANI, GIUSEPPE. Della Vita e dell' arte di Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 Venice, 1907. 
 Venezia nel periodo goldoniano. Soccorriamo i poveri bambini 
 
 rachitici. Strenna pel 1907, Venice. 
 // Settecento. In press. 
 ORVIETO, ANGIOLO. // Veleno d'Aristarco (Baretti). II Marzocco, 
 
 Feb. 25, 1907. 
 OSTERMAN, M. V. Servi e servette nelle commedie di C. G. Critica 
 
 ed Arte, Catania, March, 1907. 
 OVIDIO, D'. Saggi critici (For A, i, 76). Naples, 1878. 
 
 PAGANETTI, MARIO. Carlo Goldoni Milan, 1880. 
 
 PAGLICCI-BROZZI, A. La Politica di Carlo Goldoni. Scena illus- 
 trata, Florence, Dec. i, 1888. 
 
 PAGLIARI, ANITA. La Donna nella vita e nelle commedie di Carlo 
 Goldoni.^ Vita femmin. ital., Rome, April, 1907. 
 
 PARFAICT, FRERES. Histoire de I'ancien theatre italien depuis son 
 origine en France jusqu'a sa suppression en I'annee 1697. 
 Suivte des extraits ou canevas des meilleures pieces italiennes 
 qui n'ont jamais ete imprimees. Paris, 1767. 
 
 PASCOLATO, A. Carlo Goldoni awocato. Nuova Antologia, Dec. 15, 
 1883. 
 
 PASQUALINI, E. Carlo Goldoni. Appunti critici. Assisi, 1909. 
 
 PEISERT, P. Moliere's Leben in Biihnenbearbeitung. Halle, 1905. 
 
 PELLEGRINI, F. Carlo Goldoni ed Alessandro Manzoni. See Anteneo 
 veneto a Carlo Goldoni. 
 
 PELLIZZARO, G. B. Sopra la commedia di Carlo Goldoni " Le Fern- 
 mine puntigliose" Rivista teatr. ital., vol. XII, Florence, 1908. 
 
 P., G. B. Carlo Goldoni a Genova. Gazz. lett., Turin, Jan. 21, 1882. 
 
 PETROCCHI, P. Carlo Goldoni e la commedia. Milan, 1893. 
 
 PETSCH, ROBERT. A Jest of Goldoni' s in Goethe's "Faust." Mod- 
 ern Language Review, vol. VII, 1912, Cambridge University 
 Press. 
 
 PIAZZA, ETTORE. // Tipo dell' Avaro in Plauto e nei principali 
 suoi imitatori. Foligno, 1887. 
 
 PIAZZA, GIULIO. Goldoni a Chioggia. Prologo alle " Baruffe chioz- 
 zotte." N. 106 of Raccolta di Monologhi, Florence, 1902. 
 
66 4 
 
 APPENDICES 
 
 PIAZZI, GllJLlO continued. 
 
 Mariti e cavalier serventi nelle commedie del Goldoni. Riv. 
 
 teatr. ital., Naples, vol. XI, 1906. (A summary of Merlato's 
 
 book of same title.) 
 Le Didascalie di Carlo Goldoni. II Palvese, Trieste, Feb. 24, 
 
 1907. 
 
 Goldoni autocritico. La Vedetta, Fiume, vol. I, 1907. 
 PICCINI, GIULIO (JARRO). Carlo Goldoni in Toscana. La Nazi- 
 one, Florence, Jan. 12, 1907. 
 PICCIOLA, G. A Proposito dell' epistolario di C. G. Fanfulla della 
 
 Domenica, May 23, 1880. (Discussion of the collections publ. 
 
 by Urbani and Masi.) 
 PICCIOTTO, JAMES. Italian Comedy and Carlo Goldoni. Dublin 
 
 University Magazine, vol. LVII, 1871. 
 PICCO, F. Goldoni a Piacenza. Bolletino stor. piacentino, vol. II, 
 
 1907. 
 PICENARDI, G. SOMMI. Un Rivale del Goldoni: I' A bate Chiari e 
 
 il suo teatro comico. Milan, 1902. 
 PIETRIBONI, E. "La Tavola rotonda," e " L'Awocato veneziano" 
 
 di Carlo Goldoni. Padua, 1894. 
 
 RABANY, CHARLES. Carlo Goldoni. Le Theatre et la vie en Italic 
 
 au XVIIIe siecle. Paris, 1896. 
 RASI, LUIGI. I Comici italiani. Biografia, bibliografia, iconografia. 
 
 Florence, vol. I, part i, 1897, part 2, no date, but 1898 or after; 
 
 vol. II, 1905. 
 Per la inter pretazione dell' opera goldoniana. II Marzocco, Feb. 
 
 25, 1907. 
 
 See under Editions of Goldoni's Works. 
 RASTRELLI, UGO. // "T. Tasso " di W. von Goethe e il " T. Tasso " 
 
 di Carlo Goldoni. Nota critica. Sangineso, 1903. 
 RATTI, VINCENZO. Carlo Goldoni. Discorso (amplified), letto il 
 
 77 Marzo 1874 nella festa degli illustri scrittori e pensatori 
 ^ italiani. Asti, 1874. 
 
 RAVA, ALDO. Pietro Longhi. Bergamo, 1909. 
 RE, EMILIO. Carlo Goldoni. L'ltalia moderna, Rome, March 15, 
 
 1907. 
 La Tradizione comica dell' " Imprudente" (A, i, 24, 61) : Bar- 
 
 bieri-Goldoni. Rivista teatrale, March-April, 1910. 
 La Commedia veneziana e il Goldoni. Giorn. stor., vol. LVIII, 
 
 1*911. 
 REINHARDTSTOETTNER, KARL VON-. Plautus. Spdtere Bear- 
 
 beitungen plautinischer Lustspiele. Ein Beitrag zur <ver- 
 
 gleichenden Litter aturgeschichte. Leipzig, 1886. (Important 
 
 for Plautus as a Goldonian source.) 
 RICCI, C. Nota goldoniana. Num. unico Carlo Goldoni, Venice, 1883 
 
 (Concerning A, i, 69). 
 
 I Teatri di Bologna nei secoli XVII e XVIII. Bologna, 1888. 
 RICCOBONI, L. Histoire de I'ancien theatre italien depuis la de- 
 cadence de la comedie latine, avec un catalogue des tragedies 
 
 et comedies italiennes imprimees depuis Van 1500 jusqu'a Van 
 
 1650, et une dissertation sur la tragedie moderne. Paris, 2 vols., 
 
 1730-31. 
 RICHARDSON, SAMUEL. Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded. London, 3 
 
 vols, 1740-43- 
 RIVALTA, ERCOLE. Carlo Goldoni. Nuova Antologia, Feb. 16, 1907. 
 
 (Study of variety and truth of Gold.'s characters.) 
 
APPENDICES 665 
 
 RIZZI, F. La Commedla e il Goldoni. Antologia periodica di lett. e 
 
 d'arte, vol. II, 1906. 
 // Goldoni studente. Studium, Riv. universitaria mensile, vol. II, 
 
 1907. 
 ROSSI, G. G. DE-. Del Moderno teatro italiano, e del suo restauratore 
 
 Carlo Goldoni; raggionamenti recitati nelle adunanze degli 
 
 Arcadi. Bassano, 1794, a spese Remondini di Venezia. 
 ROYER, ALPHONSE. Theatre fiabesque de Carlo Gozzi, tr adult pour 
 
 la premiere fois. Paris, 1865. 
 Histoire universelle du theatre. Paris, 6 vols., 1869. 
 
 SAAL, J. H. Des Herrn Carl Goldoni Sdmmtliche Lustspiele. Leipzig, 
 1767-77. (German transl. of 44 of Gold.'s plays.) 
 
 SAND, MAURICE. Masques et bouffons. (Comedie italienne.} Paris, 
 2 vols., 1860. 
 
 SANESI, GIUSEPPE. Baretti e Goldoni. Rass. naz., vol. LXIX, 1893. 
 
 SARCEY, FR. Le "Moliere" de Goldoni. Revue des cours et con- 
 ferences, vol. VI, 1897-98. 
 
 SCALA, FLAMINIO. // Teatro delle favole rappresentative overo la 
 ricreatione comica, boscareccia e tragica, divisa in cinquanta 
 giornate composte da Flaminio Scala detto Flavio, comico del 
 Serenissimo Signor Duca di Mantova. Venice, 1611. (Collec- 
 tion of 50 scenarios.) 
 
 SCHEDONI, P. Delle Commedie, e delle commedie del Goldoni. Vol. 
 I of his Delle Influenze morali. Modena, 1824. (Moralising 
 analyses of Gold.'s plays.) 
 
 SCHERILLO, MICHELE. La Prima corn-media musicale a Venezia. 
 
 Giorn. stor. della lett. ital., vol. I, 1883. 
 
 Storia letterarla dell' opera buffa napoletana. Naples, 1883. 
 Die Atellanen und das heutige Volkslustspiel Neapels. Das Aus- 
 
 land, Monaco, April 21, 1884. 
 
 La Commedla dell' arte in Italia. Studi e profili. Turin, 1884. 
 La Commedla dell' arte. In La Vita italiana del settecento, 
 
 Milan, 1896. 
 The Scenarios of Della Porta. The Mask, Florence, July, 1913. 
 
 SCHLEGEL, AUGUST WILHELM. Lectures on Dramatic Art and 
 Literature. Transl. by John Black, 2d. ed., revised by Rev. A. 
 J. W. Morrison, M.A., Bohn's Library, London, 1904. 
 
 SCHMIDBAUER, R. Das Komische bei Goldoni. Munich, 1906. 
 
 SEDGWICK, H. D. A Short History of Italy. New York, 1905. 
 
 SEGRE, CARLO. Goethe e " Le Baruffe chiozzotte." In his Saggi crit- 
 ici di letteratura stranlera. Florence, 1894. 
 
 SIMONI, R. Carlo Goldoni e II dialetto. II Marzocco, Feb. 25, 1907. 
 
 SKOLA, J. Corneille's " Le Menteur " und Goldoni 's " II Bugiardo " in 
 ihrem Verhdltnlsse zu Alarcon's "La Verdad sospechosa." 
 Pilsen, 1883. 
 
 SMITH, JAMES. A Venetian Dramatist. The Victorian Review, Lon- 
 don, July i, 1880. 
 
 SMITH, WINIFRED. Italian and Elizabethan Comedy. Modern 
 
 Philology, vol. V, 1907-08. 
 The Academies and the Popular Italian Stage in the Sixteenth 
 
 Century. Ibid., vol. VIII, 1910-11. 
 
 The Commedla dell' Arte. A Study in Italian Popular Comedy. 
 New York, 1912. 
 
 SOCIETA DEGLI AUTORI DRAMMATICI ITALIANI. Centenario 
 di Carlo Goldoni. Numero unico. Rome, 1893. 
 
666 APPENDICES 
 
 SOMBORN. Das Venezianische Volkslied. Heidelberg, 1901. (Many 
 
 references to Gold.) 
 SOMMI-PICENARDI, G. Un Rivale del Goldoni. L' Abate Chiari e 
 
 il suo teatro comico. Milan, 1902. 
 SPINELLI, A. G. Goldoni a Milano. Pungolo della Dom., Milan, Dec. 
 
 16, 1883. 
 Bibliografia goldoniana. Saggio riflettente le cose ed'ite o in 
 
 cor so di stampa dal 25 Aprile MDCCXXVI al 6 Febbraio del 
 
 MDCCXCIII, doe dalla pubblicazione del sonetti udinese alia 
 
 morte del poeta. Milan, 1884. 
 
 See under Printed Collections of Gold.'s Correspondence. 
 La Prima rappresentazione della " Vedova scaltra " del Goldoni. 
 
 II Panaro, Modena, Feb. 3, 1893. 
 / Goldoni cittadini veneti e modenesi. Albero da ricerche di Carlo 
 
 Borghi, Ermanno von Loehner ed A. G. Spinelli. Ibid., Feb. 
 
 5> *%93- 
 
 Goldoni a Modena. Ibid., Feb. 5, 1893. 
 // Nonno del Goldoni (Note currenti, calamo dall' Archivio di 
 
 Stato Modenese}. Ibid., March 5, 1893. And Soccorriamo i 
 
 poveri bambini rachitici, Strenna 1907, Venice. 
 
 // Colonnello Alberto Goldoni. II Panaro, Modena, May 14, 1893. 
 Chi era I'abbe J. B. V. nelle Memorie del Goldoni? La Provincia 
 
 di Modena, June 22-24, 1901. 
 
 Tre note goldoniane. Num. unico Pro Vaglia, Modena, 1901. 
 Quattro note goldoniane. La Provincia di Modena, Feb. 26, 1903. 
 Gli Amid del Goldoni a Milano. Pel 11 Centenario della nascita 
 
 di C. G., Milan, 1907. 
 See under Modena a Carlo Goldoni nel secondo centenario della 
 
 sua nascita. 
 
 STOPPATO, L. La Commedia popolare in Italia. Padua, 1887. 
 STRYIENSKI, C. Mesdames de France, filles de Louis XV. Docu- 
 ments inedits. Paris, 1910. 
 SUSAN, CAMILLO VON-. Goldoni' s "La Locandiera." Mahrisches 
 
 Tagblatt, Oct. 27, 1893. 
 Carlo Goldoni, zur zweijahrhundertfeier seiner Geburt. Oester- 
 
 reichische Rundschau, Vienna, vol. X, 1907. 
 
 Goethe, und Goldonis "La Locandiera." Ibid., Feb. i, 1909. 
 SYMONDS, JOHN ADDINGTON. Memoirs of Carlo Gozzi. Trans- 
 lated into English. With Essays on Italian Impromptu Comedy, 
 
 Gozzi's Life, The Dramatic Fables, and Pietro Longhi, by the 
 
 Translator. London, 2 vols., 1890. 
 
 TARGIONI-TOZZETTI. Carlo Goldoni a Livorno. Labronica, Leg- 
 horn, 1899. 
 
 Antologia della poesia italiana. Leghorn, 1901. 
 
 Prefazione alle commedie sulla villeggiatura. Florence, 1909. 
 TESSIER, ANDREA. Commedie di Goldoni ed un opuscolo di critica 
 drammatica. Giorn. degli eruditi e dei curiosi, Padua, vol. I, 
 1882. 
 
 Bibliografia goldoniana. Ibid., vol. II, 1883. (Discussion of 
 Gold.'s Miscellanea.) 
 
 Intorno ad una edizione goldoniana. Archivio veneto, vol. XXVI, 
 
 1883. (Zatta ed.) 
 
 Ancora intorno ad una edizione goldoniane. Ibid., vol. XXVIII, 
 
 1884. (Garbo ed.) 
 
APPENDICES 667 
 
 Goldonl, Cavour, Verdi. Giorn. degli eruditi e del curiosi, Padua, 
 
 vol. IV, 1884. 
 THAYER, W. R. The Dawn of Italian Independence. Boston, 1902. 
 
 A Short History of Venice. Boston, 1908. 
 TIECK, LUDWIG. " Der Liigner" (A, i, 35) von Goldoni. In his 
 
 Kritische Schriften, vol. Ill, p. 219 et seq., Leipzig, 1852. 
 TOLDO, P. Figaro et ses origines. Milan, 1893. 
 
 Se il Diderot abbia imitato il Goldoni. Giorn. stor. della lett. 
 
 ital., vol. XXVI, 1895.^ 
 Tre commedie francesi inedite di Carlo Goldoni (A, i, 12, 152, 
 
 1 60). Ibid., vol. XXIX, 1897. 
 Attinenze fra il teatro comico di Voltaire e quello del Goldoni. 
 
 Ibid., vol. XXXI, 1898. 
 Moliere en Italic. Journal of Comparative Literature, vol. I, 
 
 1903. 
 Etudes sur le theatre de Regnard. Revue d'histoire litt. de France, 
 
 vol. X, 1903, and vol. XII, 1905. 
 
 Diderot e il " Burbero benefico." Ateneo veneto, Jan.-Feb., 1907. 
 UCEuvre de Moliere et sa fortune en Italie. Turin, 1910. 
 TOMMASEO, N. Storia civile nella letter aria. Turin, 1872. (Impor- 
 tant for Chiari, Gasparo Gozzi, and G. B. Roberti.) 
 See under Gasparo Gozzi. 
 TORRE, A. DELLA-. Saggio di una bibliografia delle opere intorno a 
 
 Carlo Goldoni (1793-1907}. Florence, 1908. 
 TOSELLI, GIACINTA. Saggio di uno studio estetico e stilistico delle 
 
 commedie goldoniane dialettali. Venice, 1904. 
 
 TOURNEUX, M. (Editor). Correspondance litteraire, philosophique et 
 critique de Grimm, Diderot, Raynal, Meister, revue sur les textes 
 originaux. Paris, 16 vols., 1877-82. 
 TOVINI, MARIETTA. Studio su Carlo Goldoni. Florence, 1900. 
 
 URBANI DE GHELTOF, G. M. Le Maschere in Venezia. 1877. 
 
 Le Colonne della Piazetta. Venice, 1878. 
 
 Vocabolario di Carlo Goldoni ad interpretazione delle di lul 
 commedie. Page 107 et seq. of his Lettere di Carlo Goldoni 
 (See under Printed Collections of Gold.'s Correspondence). 
 Venice, 1880. Reprinted from vol. XIII of the Fantino-Olzati 
 ed. of Gold.'s works, with a few additions and many errors, 
 and represented as edited from an autograph Ms. of Gold. 
 The glossary is the work of Bertoldo, not of Goldoni. 
 
 Carlo Goldoni a Chioggia. Ateneo veneto, S. VII, vol. II, Dec., 
 1883. 
 
 Un' Appendice alle Memorie di Carlo Goldoni. Num. unico Carlo 
 Goldoni, Venice, 1883. Represented as edited from Gold.'s Ms., 
 in possession of Signor Urbani, which continues Gold.'s biog- 
 raphy from 1787, where the Memoirs stop, to end of Dec., 1792. 
 
 VALERI, A. (CARLETTA). Dove abitb Goldoni a Roma. Nuova 
 
 Rassegna, Rome, May 14, 1893. 
 Un Logogrifo di Carlo Goldoni (Mem. II, p. 395). Ibid., May 
 
 21, 1893. 
 
 Gli Scenari di Easilio Locatelbi. Ibid., 1894. 
 Intorno ad una commedia del Goldoni (A, i, 30). Fanfulla della 
 
 Domenica, June 2, 1901. 
 
 Una Bugia di Carlo Goldoni. Rassegna internaz., vol. VIII, 1902. 
 VAPEREAU, L. G. Dictionnaire des litter atures. Paris, 1884. 
 
668 APPENDICES 
 
 VEDETTA, LA. Numero goldoniano. Feb. 25, 1907. Articles by 
 
 Guido Mazzoni, Innocenzo, Simoni, Cesare Musatti, Merlato, 
 
 and others. 
 
 VERRI, COUNT PIETRO. La Vera commedia. Venice, 1755. Pub- 
 lished under pseudonym of Midonte Priamideo. 
 VERRIER, CHARLES. Goldoni et la reforme du theatre italien. La 
 
 Grande revue, Feb. 25, 1908. 
 VIANELLO, L. Goldoni e i suoi tempi. Woljgango Goethe e le 
 
 " Baruffe chiozzotte." Num. unico Primo centenario di C. G., 
 
 Venice, 1893. 
 VICINI, G. B. (and others). Delia Vera poesia teatrale, epistole 
 
 poetiche modenesi dirette al signor abate Pietro Chiari colle 
 
 riposte del medesimo. Modena, 1754. 
 VOLTAIRE. (Euvres. Ed. Beuchot, Paris, 70 vols. and 2 vols. for 
 
 index, 1828 et seq.; Ed. Moland, Paris, 50 vols. and 2 vols. for 
 
 index, 1877-83. 
 
 WESSELOFSKY, A. Alichino e Aredodesa. Giorn. stor. della lett. ital., 
 
 vol. XI, 1888. (On the origin of Arlecchino.) 
 WETZ, W. Die Anfdnge der ernsten biirgerlichen Dichtung im XVlll 
 
 Jahrhundert. Worms, 1885, vol. I, p. 105. 
 WIEL, T. Catalogo delle opere in musica rappresentate nel secolo 
 
 XVlll a Venezia. Nuovo Archivio veneto, vol. I, 1893. 
 I Teatri musicali di Venezia. Venice, 1897. 
 WIHAN, JOSEPH. Lessings "Minna von Barnhelm" und Goldonis 
 
 Lustspiel " Un Curioso accidente." Jahresbericht des Staats- 
 
 gymnasiums ... in Prag-Altstadt fiir das Schuljahr 1902-03. 
 
 Prag, 1903. 
 WISMAYR, JOSEPH. Nekrologie. Eiographische Nachrichten von 
 
 Carl Goldoni, und skizzierte Charakteristiek seiner Combdien. 
 
 In Ephemeriden der italienischen Litteratur fiir Deutschland. 
 
 Salzburg, 1801. 
 WOTQUENNE, A. Zeno, Metastasio und Goldoni. Alphabetisches 
 
 Verzeichnis der Stiicke in Versen ' aus ihren dramatischen 
 
 W 'erken. Leipzig, 1905. 
 
 ZARDO, A. Un' Accademia antigoldoniana. Rassegna naz., Florence, 
 
 March i, 1907. 
 ZENATTI, A. Una Raccolta di scenari della commedia dell' arte. 
 
 Rivista critica della lett. ital., vol. II, 1885. 
 ZILIOTTO, BACCIO. Carlo Goldoni e Vlstria. II Palvese, Feb. 24, 
 
 1907. (For rivalry between Gold, and Chiari, and date of A, 
 
 i, 69.) 
 ZONCADA, ANTONIO. Carlo Goldoni a Pavia. Racconto storico. 
 
 Pavia, 1866. (Based on documents. Pages 94-97 contain lines 
 
 from A, i, 2.) 
 
INDEX 
 
INDEX 
 
 NOTE. "G" refers always to Carlo Goldoni. Further reference 
 to all of G's writings will be found in Appendix A. 
 
 Abagigi, 321; in Women's Tittle- 
 Tattle, 322. 
 
 Accademia della Crusca, 410, 436. 
 
 Accademia dell' Arcadia, see Ar- 
 cadian Academy, The. 
 
 Accademia Granellesca, 407-408, 
 410, 411-412. 
 
 Acerra, 108. 
 
 Adelaide, Madame, G engaged to 
 teach, 483; G meets, 484; G 
 tutor to, 483-486; G character- 
 izes, 488; discontinues lessons 
 with G, 491 ; assures G of her 
 protection, 491 ; obtains pension 
 for G, 492; secures places for 
 G's nepew, 493. 
 
 Adriani, 154. 
 
 Adulatore, L' (The Flatterer), de- 
 scribed, 252; 195, 240. 
 
 ^neas, 178. 
 
 ^Eneid, 395. 
 
 ^sop, 435. 
 
 Afflisio, Elizabeth Moreri d', see 
 Passalacqua, La. 
 
 Agathon, 421. 
 
 Aiken, 253. 
 
 Alarcon, 292. 
 
 Albafiorita, Count d', in La Locan- 
 diera, 265-267. 
 
 Albergati-Capacelli, Marquis Fran- 
 cesco, meets G in Bologna, 201; 
 writes Voltaire of G, 202; lover 
 of stage, 203; G writes to, 466, 
 472, 473, 482, 483, 486, 491, 494, 
 503; commends G to Voltaire, 
 534; Voltaire writes to, 534-535; 
 G writes to, 566, 568, 580. 
 
 Alberto, in The Venetian Advo- 
 cate, 303 ; in Marriage by Com- 
 petition, 514. 
 
 Alcalde de Zalamea, L', 452. 
 
 671 
 
 Alcamo, Ciullo d', 431. 
 
 Alceste, 252, 428, 437, 548. 
 
 Aldrich, Richard, 276. 
 
 Alfieri, 87, 154, 197, 583. 
 
 Alfonso of Ferrara, Don, 437. 
 
 Algarotti, 230, 479. 
 
 Alleyn, 45. 
 
 Almanach des Spectacles, L', 504. 
 
 Alonso, in The Cavalier and the 
 
 Lady, 242, 245, 246, 384-385. 
 Alton, Lady, in L'Ecossaise, 379, 
 
 382. 
 Amalasunta (Amalasontha), 46, 
 
 49, 50, 52, 53, 134- 
 Amante di se medesimo, U (The 
 
 Lover of Himself], 452. 
 Amante militaire, L' (The Mili- 
 tary Lover), described, 384-385; 
 
 200. 
 Amelia, translated by Mme. Ric- 
 
 coboni, 469. 
 America, G's plays in, 511; G on 
 
 future of, 579. 
 Amore delle tre melarancie, L' 
 
 (The Love of the Three Or- 
 anges), 416-421. 
 Amore paternal, L' (Paternal 
 
 Love), described, 502-503; 472, 
 
 480. 
 Amor i di Arlecchino e di Camilla, 
 
 Gli ( The Love of Harlequin and 
 
 Camilla), 473, 480, 505. 
 4mori di Zelinda e Lindoro, Gli 
 
 (Zelinda and Lindoro' s Love), 
 
 506. 
 Amour medecin, U (Love as a 
 
 Doctor), 550. 
 
 Ancona, A. D.', 99-100, 172. 
 Andreini, Francesco, 115. 
 Andreini, Isabella, 100, 115. 
 Andreuve, in Pamela Unmarried, 
 
 367-368. 
 Angelica, 37. 
 
672 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Angelique, in The Beneficent Bear, 
 520-522. 
 
 Angelini, 448. 
 
 Angellino belverde, V, 421. 
 
 Anonymous, The, 54, 55, 62. 
 
 Anselmo, in The Cavalier and the 
 Lady, 273 ; in The Antiquarian's 
 Family, 299 ; in Marriage by 
 Competition, 514. 
 
 Antibes, G in, 467, 468. 
 
 Antiquarian's Family, The, see 
 Famiglia dell' antiquario, La. 
 
 Anzoletto, in The New House, 341- 
 343 ; in One of the Last Evenings 
 of the Carnival, 424; in The 
 Public Square, 463. 
 
 Apatista, L', 453. 
 
 Apologetic Prologue for The Art- 
 ful Widow, An, 392-393. 
 
 Aquileia, G visits, 31. 
 
 Arbes, Cesare D', 125, 164-167, 
 179, 183, 184, 188, 421. 
 
 Arbes, Rosalina D', 183. 
 
 Arcadia, L', see Arcadian Acad- 
 emy, The. 
 
 Arcadian Academy, The, at Rome, 
 153; history of, 153-159; at Si- 
 ena, 159; at Pisa, 160, 163; 429. 
 
 Arcigranellone, 407. 
 
 Arconati-Visconti, Count Giuseppe 
 Antonio, 191, 196, 217, 219, 402 
 
 Aretino, 87. 
 
 Argental, Count d', 480, 488. 
 
 Argentina, in The Clever Lady's 
 Maid, 306. 
 
 Ariosto, 85, 87, 90, 453. 
 
 Aristophanes, 132. 
 
 Aristotle, 143. 
 
 Arlecchino, in the improvised com- 
 edy, 105-107; 101, 102, 103, 109, 
 no, 113, 115, 116, 117, 119, 126, 
 141, 143, 177, 178, 503; in The 
 Man of the World, 140; in 
 The Artful Widow, 233-234; in 
 The Obedient Daughter, 290; 
 in The Antiquarian's Family, 
 299; in The Housekeeper, 307; 
 in The Respectable Girl, 319; 
 in The Swindler, 384-385; in 
 The Military Lover, 385 ; in The 
 Good Genius and the Bad Gen- 
 ius, 517. 
 
 Arlequin empereur dans la lune, 
 78. 
 
 Arnauld, Sophie, 477. 
 
 Arrighi, 40-41. 
 
 Artful Bride-Elect, The, see Sposa 
 sagace, La. 
 
 Artful Widow, The, see Fedova 
 scaltra, La. 
 
 Arthur, Lord, in Pamela Unmar- 
 ried, 367-372, 376. 
 
 Atella, 107. 
 
 Atellenae, 96, 112. 
 
 Atti granelleschi, 415. 
 
 Aumont, Due d', G waits upon, 
 469. 
 
 Auspingh, Count of, in Pamela 
 Unmarried, 367-368. 
 
 Austria, 114. 
 
 Autre danger, L', 305. 
 
 Avare, L' (The Miser], 548-550. 
 
 Avare fastueux, L' (The Ostenta- 
 tious Miser), 529-531; 550. 
 
 Avaro, L' (The Miser}, 549-550. 
 
 Avaro geloso, L' (The Jealous 
 Miser], 550. 
 
 Avignon, G in, 408. 
 
 Avventuriere alia modo, L', 394. 
 
 Avventuriere onorato, L' (The 
 Honest Adventurer], 304-305. 
 
 Avventure della villeggiatura, Le 
 (Hazards of Country Life], 258, 
 260, 458. 
 
 Avvocato veneziano, L' (The Ve- 
 netian Advocate], described, 303- 
 304; 188, 480. 
 
 B 
 
 Babilonio, name for Pantalone, 103. 
 
 Baccherini, Anna, 75-76. 
 
 Bach, 137. 
 
 Bachaumont, 492, 505, 506, 526. 
 
 Baffo, Giorgio, 398. 
 
 Bagattino, name for Arlecchino, 
 
 105. 
 
 Bagolino, name for Brighella, 106. 
 Bainer, in The Dutch Doctor, 
 
 449- 
 Balestra, in The Cavalier and the 
 
 Lady, 242. 
 Baletti-Benozzi, Rosa Giovanni, 
 
 500. 
 
 Ball, The, see Festino, II. 
 Bancarotta, La (The Bankruptcy], 
 
 described, 144-145; 74, '47, 347, 
 
 509. 
 
INDEX 
 
 673 
 
 Barbara, in the Zelinda plays, 507- 
 
 508. 
 
 Barbary, 446. 
 Barber of Seville, The, see Bar- 
 
 biere di Siviglia, II. 
 Bar bier de Seville, Le, 571. 
 Barbiera, Raffaello, 589. 
 Barbiere di Siviglia, II, 105, 571. 
 Barbieri, Niccolo, 92, 96. 
 Baretti, Giuseppe, 89, 277, 408, 415, 
 
 416, 421-422, 464, 466, 483. 
 Barilli, Virginia, 8, 10. 
 Baron, 544. 
 
 Bartoli, Saverio Francesco, 166. 
 Bartolini, Orazio, 51, 53, 55, 58 
 
 59- 
 
 Baruffe Chiozzotte, Le (The Chiog- 
 gian Brawls), described, 348- 
 357; 228, 422, 457, 511, 512, 531, 
 591. 
 
 Bastille, La, 588. 
 
 Bavaria, 114. 
 
 Beatrice, 266. 
 
 Beatrice, in improvised comedy, 
 no; in The Servant of Two 
 Masters, 143 ; in The Father of 
 a Family, 288 ; in The Fanatic 
 Poet, 302; in The Housekeeper, 
 307 ; in The Punctilious Ladies, 
 
 553-554, 556-559- 
 Beaumarchais, 105, 109, 364, 481, 
 
 519, 528, 571. 
 Bejart, Armande, 544. 
 Bejart, Madeleine, 544. 
 Belgrano, L. T., 169. 
 Belisarius, described, 135; 55, 58, 
 
 59, 61, 62-64, 65, 136. 
 Bella pellegrina, La (The Fair 
 
 Pilgrim}, 396. 
 Bella selvaggia, La (The Fair 
 
 Savage}, 359, 441. 
 Bella verita, La, 466. 
 Belpoggio, Count of, in The Ball, 
 
 455-456. 
 
 Beltramo, name of Brighella, 105. 
 Bembo, Cardinal, 407. 
 Benedick, 206. 
 Beneficent Bear, The, see Bourru 
 
 bienfaisant, Le. 
 
 Bennett, James O'Donnell, 285-287. 
 Beolco, Angelo, 99, no, in, 172. 
 Beppo, in The Chioggian Brawls, 
 
 350-351, 356. 
 Beregan, Nicolo, 402. 
 
 Bergamask, The, see also Brighella, 
 
 106, in. 
 
 Bergama, G in, 50-51. 
 Berio, Francesco Maria, 77. 
 Bertoldo, Bertoldino, e Cacasenno, 
 
 238- 
 Bertrame, in improvised comedy, 
 
 109. 
 Bettina, in improvised comedy, 
 
 119; in The Clever Woman, 146; 
 
 in The Respectable Girl, 302; in 
 
 The Good Wife, 320, 376. 
 Bettinelli, 191, 211, 212, 213. 
 Bianchetti, Countess, 479. 
 Bibbieno, 87. 
 Bievre, Marquis de, 571. 
 Biondi, Margherita, 55-57, 59, 61, 
 
 62. 
 
 Birba, La, 64, 65. 
 Birotteau, Cesar, 144. 
 Bisognosi, name of Pantalone, 103 ; 
 
 in The Man of the World, 
 
 139. 
 
 Black, John, 576. 
 
 Blue Bird, The, 417, 421. 
 
 Bobadil, Captain, 114. 
 
 Boccage, Madame du, 218, 478-479. 
 
 Boerhaave, Herman, 448, 449. 
 
 Boerio, 104. 
 
 Boissy, Louis de, 362. 
 
 Bologna, G in, 77, 201-203, 2J 6; 
 Martelli in, 431; G visits, 406. 
 
 Bolognese, Simone, 115. 
 
 Bonaldi, Angela, 78, 80. 
 
 Bonicelli, Antonio, 13. 
 
 Bonfil, Lord, in Pamela Unmar- 
 ried, 367-372, 376. 
 
 Boors, The, see Rusteghi, I. 
 
 Borghi, Carlo, n, 13, 98-99, 170. 
 
 Borromeo, Federigo, 539. 
 
 Bottega del caffe, La (The Coffee- 
 House), described, 277-288; 195, 
 197, 285-287, 381. 
 
 Bourgeois gentilhomme, Le (The 
 Burgher a Gentleman], 551-552. 
 
 Bourru bienfaisant, Le (The Be- 
 neficent Bear}, described, 518- 
 529; 123, 340, 479, 495, 536, 582, 
 584- 
 
 Bramante, 99. 
 
 Brescia, G in, 50; G robbed on 
 way to, 60; meets Scacciati at, 
 61 ; Chiari retires to, 464. 
 
 Bresciani, Caterina, 209, 452. 
 
674 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Brighella, in the improvised com- 
 edy, 105-107; 102, 103, no, 115, 
 119, 126, 141, 415; in The Obe- 
 dient Daughter, 289-290; 509; in 
 The Inquisitive Women, 295; 
 in The Antiquarian's Family, 
 299; in The Respectable Girl, 
 319; in The Swindler, 383-384; 
 in The Military Lover, 385. 
 
 Brizard, 527. 
 
 Brognoligo, 190. 
 
 Brontolon, Sior Todero (Master 
 Theodore the Grumbler), 340- 
 
 34i- 
 
 Browning, Robert, 378. 
 Bruno, 87. 
 
 Brusso, Madame de la, 489. 
 Bucco, 113. 
 
 Buffoons, Italian, see Gelosi. 
 Bugiardo, II (The Liar), described, 
 
 291-292; 195. 
 Buona famiglia, La (The Good 
 
 Family), 305. 
 
 Buona figliuola, La, 218, 448. 
 Buona madre, La (The Good 
 
 Mother), 325. 
 Buona moglie, La (The Good 
 
 Wife), described, 320; 188, 288, 
 
 347, 376, 509- 
 Buon padre, II, 38. 
 Buon vecchio, II, see Buon padre, 
 
 II. 
 
 Buranello, 222. 
 Burattino, name for Arlecchino, 
 
 105, 108. 
 Burchiello di Padova, II (The 
 
 Padua Packet), 428. 
 Burgher a Gentleman, The, see 
 
 Bourgeois gentilhomme, Le. 
 Burlador de Sevilla, El (The Scof- 
 fer of Seville), 92, 547. 
 Buttercup, 314. 
 
 Caccia, 583. 
 
 Caffariello, 51, 52. 
 
 Gaffe, II, 402, 586. 
 
 Cainello, Menego, in The Respect- 
 able Girl, 313. 
 
 Calderon, 378, 439, 452. 
 
 Callot, 97. 
 
 Cameriera brillante, La (The 
 Clever Lady' s-M aid), 306. 
 
 Camilla, in The Good Genius and 
 the Bad Genius, 517. 
 
 Camilla's Tribulations, see Inqui- 
 etudini di Camilla, Le. 
 
 Campiello, II (The Public Square), 
 457, 461-463. 
 
 Campardon, E., 478. 
 
 Canciano, in The Boors, 326, 331, 
 332-338. 
 
 Candeille, Mile., 268. 
 
 Candini, 17, 132. 
 
 Cantatrice, La (The Singer), 38, 
 62. 
 
 Capitano, II, in improvised com- 
 edy, 108, 119. 
 
 Cappini, Marta, 10, n, 12. 
 
 Capranica theatre, 223. 
 
 Capricious Woman, The, see Don- 
 na stravagante, La. 
 
 Caprin, Giulio, 112, 149, 396, 410, 
 
 474,. 475, 497 : 
 Captain Bobadil, 114. 
 Bertinazzi, Carlo (Carlino), 501, 
 
 506, 529. 
 
 Carceri, Pulcinella dalle, 108. 
 Cardinal, Monsieur, 290. 
 Carducci, Giosue, 432. 
 Cario, Alfesibeo, 156. 
 Carino, in Don Giovanni Tenoric, 
 
 547- 
 
 Carlino, see Bertinazzi, Carlo. 
 Carli-Rubbi, Gian Rinaldo, 203. 
 Carlos, Don, 56, 57. 
 Carmosina, name of Colombina, 
 
 109. 
 
 Carrara, G in, 55, 57, 58. 
 Casali, Gaetano, 54, 62. 
 Casal Pusterlengo, G in, 60. 
 Casanova de Seingalt, J., 62, 203, 
 
 405, 536. 
 Casanova, Maria Giovanna (Za- 
 
 netta), 62. 
 Casa nova, La (The New House), 
 
 described, 341-348; 228, 240, 458, 
 
 529. 
 
 Casati, Marquis, 467. 
 Cassandro, name of Pantalone, 103. 
 Castalda, La (The Housekeeper), 
 
 described, 306-307; 200. 
 Castell' a Mare, 553-560. 
 Castelvetro, 84. 
 Gate, in Women's Tittle -Tattle, 
 
 322-324; in The Public Square, 
 
 462. 
 
INDEX 
 
 6 75 
 
 Cattolica, 79. 
 
 Cavalier del Fiocco, in Tasso, 
 438. 
 
 Cavalier e di spirito, II (The Wit- 
 ty Cavalier], 240, 453. 
 
 Cavliere di buoji gusto, II, 240. 
 
 Cavalier e e la dama, II (The 
 Cavalier and the Lady), de- 
 scribed, 241-250; 188, 240, 273, 
 302, 381-382. 
 
 Cavalier giocondo, II, 453-454. 
 
 Cecco, in The Feudatory, 262- 
 263. 
 
 Cecilia, in The New House, 341, 
 
 343,^ 345-347- 
 
 Celimene, 252. 
 
 Cento e quattro accident/ in una 
 notte (A Hundred and Four 
 Mishaps in One Night], de- 
 scribed, 142; 73, 161, 162. 
 
 Cerlone, Francesco, 108. 
 
 Cesarotti, 422, 537, 590. 
 
 Champmesle, Madame, 474. 
 
 Chantilly, G in, 528. 
 
 Chapelle, 544. 
 
 Charles III of Spain, 56, 57. 
 
 Chateaudor, Comte de, in The Os- 
 tentatious Miser, 530. 
 
 Chaussee, La, 362-65, 375, 376, 406, 
 411. 
 
 Checca, in The New House, 342- 
 346 ; in The Chioggian Brawls, 
 
 350-351, 357^ 
 
 Chenier, Andre-Marie, de, 532. 
 
 Chenier, Marie-Joseph de, obtains 
 pension from French National 
 Convention for G, 532-533, 586; 
 obtains annuity for G's widow, 
 586; vouches for G's republican- 
 ism, 588. 
 
 Cherea, Francesco, 172. 
 
 Chiari, Pietro, rival to G, 172; 
 parodies G's work, 187, 391; G 
 attacks, 392-394; writes comedy, 
 394; achievements, 394-395; char- 
 acter, 395 ; plagiarizes G's plays, 
 395-396; beaten by G after 
 rivalry, 397; verses on rivalry 
 with G, 398-399; visits Modena, 
 399; G characterizes, 401; plays 
 fail, 402; allied with G against 
 Gozzi, 403 ; Gozzi describes 
 rivalry, 405 ; attacked by Gozzi, 
 412; editor of Gazzetta Veneta, 
 
 413; seeks reform of improvised 
 comedy, 415; Carducci on, 432; 
 retires to Brescia, 464; intoler- 
 ance, 579. 
 
 Chicago, The University of, G's 
 plays at, 511. 
 
 Chinese Slave, The, see Schiava 
 Chinese, La. 
 
 Chioggia, G in, 17, 21, 24, 28, 34, 
 35, 122, 132, 348. 
 
 Chioggian Brawls, The, see Ba- 
 ruffe Chiozzotte, Le. 
 
 Chitta, in The Feudatory, 262- 
 
 26 3 ._ 
 
 Christina of Sweden, 155. 
 
 Cicisbeism, 237-264. 
 
 Cicognini, Giacinta Andrea, 14, 
 
 .133- . 
 
 Cicognini, lacopo, 133, 547. 
 
 Cid, The, 291-292. 
 
 Cimarosa, 137. 
 
 Clairon, Mile., 474. 
 
 Clarice, in The Bankruptcy, 145; 
 in The Love of the Three Or- 
 anges, 417; in The Punctilious 
 Ladies, 554-555, 557- 
 
 Claudia, in The Cavalier and the 
 Lady, 242, 245, 382. 
 
 Claviere, Etienne, 587. 
 
 Clever Lady's-Maid, The, see 
 Cameriera brill ante, La. 
 
 Clever Woman, The, see Donna 
 di gar bo, La. 
 
 Cloche, Monsieur la, in L'Ecos- 
 saise, 382. 
 
 Clotilde, Princess, 495. 
 
 Coccodrillo, in improvised comedy, 
 108. 
 
 Cochin, 583. 
 
 Cocu imaginaire, Le (The Imag- 
 inary Cuckold, 471. 
 
 Coffee-House, The, see Bottega del 
 caffe, La. 
 
 Colardeau, 481. 
 
 Coleman, Mrs., 99. 
 
 Collalto, II, 191, 200, 293, 501. 
 
 Colle, 526, 528. 
 
 Colorno, 217-218, 448. 
 
 Collinetti, Francesco, 73, 183. 
 
 Colombina, described, 109; 101. 
 
 Colombani, Paolo, 415. 
 
 Colossus, The, 27. 
 
 Columbine, see also Colombina, 
 101, 109, 417. 
 
676 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Comedie Franchise, La, 102, 116, 
 474, 499, 5i8, 528, 587- 
 
 Comedians du roi de la troupe 
 franchise, 474. 
 
 Comedie Italienne, La, at Hotel de 
 Bourgogne, 102; banished to 
 Theatre Favart, 102; influence 
 on French stage, 115-116; G's 
 work for, 470-482; history of, 
 499-501 ; invites G to Paris, 501 ; 
 company described, 501 ; unites 
 with Opera Comique, 502; con- 
 dition of, 502; G describes state 
 of, 504. 
 
 Comediens du roi de la troupe 
 italienne, Les, 228, 423, 500. 
 
 Comedy, Lachrymose, 362-364. 
 
 Comic Theatre, The, see Teatro 
 comico, II. 
 
 Comic Theatre at the Pilgrim's 
 Inn, The, see Teatro comico all' 
 Osteria de Pellegrino. 
 
 Commedia a soggett^, a maschera, 
 dell'arte, improvvisa, see Impro- 
 vised Comedy. 
 
 Commedia erudita, see Erudite 
 Comedy. 
 
 Compiegne, G in, 488. 
 
 Conde, Prince de, acts in The Be- 
 neficent Bear, 528. 
 
 Condulmer, Antonio, 392. 
 
 Connio, Agostino, G's father-in- 
 law, 70-71 ; G dedicates play to, 
 169. 
 
 Connio Angela Benedetta, G's 
 mother-in-law, 70. 
 
 Connio, Maria Nicoletta, see Gol- 
 doni, Maria Nicoletta. 
 
 Contarini, Pietro, 410. 
 
 Contessina, La (The Young Count- 
 ess), 137-138. 
 
 Contrat social, 373, 578. 
 
 Contriving Woman, The, see Don- 
 na di maneggio, La. 
 
 Convitato di pietra, II (The Guest 
 of Stone}, 92. 
 
 Corago, 94. 
 
 Corallina, a name of Colombina, 
 109; in The Inquisitive Woman, 
 295; in The Devoted Servant, 
 306, 458 ; in The Housekeeper, 307. 
 
 Corallina, La, see Marliani, Mad- 
 dalena. 
 
 Coriolan, 570. 
 
 Corneille, Pierre, G's // Bugiardo 
 founded on Le Menteur of, 291 ; 
 Zeno likened to, 136; national- 
 izes classical ideal, 153. 
 
 Cornet, Gabriel, 465, 470, 471, 485, 
 488, 490, 495, 566. 
 
 Cornet, Jean, 465. 
 
 Corsini, Pope, 296. 
 
 Cortezan venezian, II, 139. 
 
 Corvo, II, 421. 
 
 Coryat, Thomas, 99. 
 
 Cosson, 584. 
 
 Costantini, author of Critical Let- 
 ters, 394. 
 
 Costantini, Senator, 589. 
 
 Costantini, Angelo, 499. 
 
 Costanza, in A Curious Mishap, 
 377-. 
 
 Cotterie, Lieutenant de la, in A 
 Curious Mishap, 376-377. 
 
 Contrattempo, II (The Misadven- 
 ture], 293-294. 
 
 Coubrech, in Pamela Unmarried, 
 371- 
 
 Courant, The Hartford (Connecti- 
 cut),^^. 
 
 Courbois, Marquis de, in The Os- 
 tentatious Miser, 530. 
 
 Coviello, 108, 109, 178. 
 
 Crebillon, 476. 
 
 Crema, G in, 57-59. 
 
 Crescimbeni, 156-157, 158. 
 
 Creusa, in Terence, 434. 
 
 Cristofolo, in The New House, 346- 
 347- 
 
 Critique de I'ecole des femmes, La 
 (The Criticism of The School for 
 Wives], 455, 541, 543. 
 
 Cuisinieres, Les, 457. 
 
 Cunliffe, Doctor J. W., 115. 
 
 Curioso accidente, Un (A Curious 
 Mishap], described, 376-378; 
 449, 477, 562. 
 
 Curious Mishap, A, see Curioso 
 accidente, Un. 
 
 Dalancour, in The Beneficent Bear, 
 520-521. 
 
 Dalancour, Madame, in The Be- 
 neficent Bear, 521. 
 
 Dalmatina, La (The Little Dal- 
 matian], 441. 
 
INDEX 
 
 
 677 
 
 Dama prudente, La (The Discreet 
 Wife], described, 250-252; 197, 
 240. 
 Damon, in Terence, 434. 
 
 Dancing School, The, see Scuola 
 di ballo, La. 
 
 D'Arbes, see Arbes, D'. 
 
 Dauberval, 526. 
 
 Dauphin, The, see also Louis XVI, 
 485, 489, 490, 491, 495. 
 
 Dauphiness, The 483, 489, 490. 
 
 Dauvre, Lady, in Pamela Unmar- 
 ried, 367-368. 
 
 Deffand, Madame du, 479, 567. 
 
 Defoe, 361. 
 
 Dejob, Charles, 256, 507, 510. 
 
 Democritus, 435. 
 
 Denis, Madame, 567. 
 
 Desboulmiers, 149, 473-474. 
 
 Desenzano, G in, 50. 
 
 Devoted Servant, The, see Serva 
 amorosa, La. 
 
 Diamantina, name of Colombina, 
 109. 
 
 Diana, in the Bourgeois comedies, 
 276. 
 
 Diderot, G and the Paris of, 122; 
 G's lachrymose comedies smack 
 of, 305 ; Marivaux compared 
 with, 365; serious and moral 
 drama of, 376; Houssaye char- 
 acterizes, 475; dismisses G's 
 work contemptuously, 475 ; recon- 
 ciled to G, 476. 
 
 Diogenes, 43 5.^ 
 
 Dionysiac festivals, 83. 
 
 Discontented, The, see Malcon- 
 tenti, I. 
 
 Discreet Wife, The, see Dama pru- 
 dente, La. 
 
 Disguised, The, see Suppositi, I. 
 
 Domestic Bickerings, see Puntigli 
 domes tici, I. 
 
 Dominicaux, Les, 476-477, 481. 
 
 Don Giovanni, 92. 
 
 Don Giovanni Tenorio, 69, 120, 
 138, 148, 546-548- 
 
 Don Juan, Moliere's play, 546-548. 
 
 Don Juan Tenorio, see Don Gio- 
 vanni Tenorio. 
 
 Donna bizzarra, La, 453. 
 
 Donna di garbo, La (The Clever 
 Woman], described, 146-148 
 149, 168, 183, 303, 312, 395. 
 
 Donna di garbo, La, play by 
 Chiari, 395. 
 
 Donna di governo, La (The Up- 
 per Servant], 451, 458. 
 
 Donna di maneggio, La (The Con- 
 triving Woman), 253, 550. 
 
 Donna di testa debole, La (The 
 Rattlepate), 261-262. 
 
 Donna forte, La (The Intrepid 
 Woman), 450-451. 
 
 Donna serpente La, 421. 
 
 Donna sola, La (The Lone Wom- 
 an), 451. 
 
 Donna stravagante, La (The Ca- 
 pricious Woman), 452. 
 
 Donna vendicativa, La, described, 
 293; 186, 208. 
 
 Donna volubile, La (The Fickle 
 Woman), described, 293; 197. 
 
 Donnay, Maurice, 253, 305. 
 
 Donne curiose, Le (The Inquisi- 
 tive Women), described, 294-298; 
 200, 477. 
 
 Donne di casa soa, Le ( The House- 
 wives), 457, 459. 
 
 Donne gelose, Le (The Jealous 
 Women), described, 324-325; 
 200, 201. 
 
 Doralice, in The Antiquarian's 
 Family, 300; in The Ball, 455; 
 in Marriage by Competition, 514. 
 
 Dorval, in The Beneficent Bear, 
 521. 
 
 Dossennus, 113. 
 
 Doti, defined, 93. 
 
 Dottore, II, in improvised comedy, 
 defined, 104-105; 103, no, 119, 
 126, 141, 143, 178, 233. 
 
 Drama, Elizabethan, 98, 100, 101. 
 
 Drama, Greek, 83, 84, 101. 
 
 Drama, Religious, 85, 89, 98, 99, 
 100, 113. 
 
 Drama, Spanish, 100. 
 
 Dresden, 196. 
 
 Dromio, 184. 
 
 Due gemelli veneziani, I (The 
 Venetian Twins), 149, 391. 
 
 Due pantaloni, I, see also Mer- 
 canti, I, 293. 
 
 Dufresny, Charles Riviere, 451. 
 
 Duni, Egidio Domualdo, 448-449, 
 475- 
 
 Durazzo, Count Giacomo, G 
 writes, 484. 
 
678 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Duse, Eleonora, 268. 
 Dutch Doctor, The, see Medico 
 olandese, II. 
 
 Ecole des meres, L' (The School 
 for Mothers], 364. 
 
 Ecossaise, L' (The Scotch Girl), 
 379-382, 396, 406. 
 
 Egidio, in War, 386-388. 
 
 Elegant Anthony, see Tonin bella 
 grazia. 
 
 Eleonora, in The Man of the 
 World, 140; in The Cavalier and 
 the Lady, 241, 245; in Tasso, 
 437-438; in The Punctilious La- 
 dies, 554-558. 
 
 Elisa, 65. 
 
 Elisa, in Don Giovanni Tenorio, 
 
 547- 
 
 Elizabeth, Princess, 496. 
 Elizabethan drama, see Drama, 
 
 Elizabethan. 
 England, Italian mask actors in, 
 
 ii^-ilS- 
 English Philosopher, The, see Fi- 
 
 losofo inglese, II. 
 Enrico re di Sicilia, 73. 
 Epicurus, 590. 
 Epinay, Madame d', 526. 
 Eraclio, in The Impostor, 262. 
 Ercole I, Duke of Ferrara, theatre 
 
 of, 99. 
 Erede fortunata, L' (The Lucky 
 
 Heiress}, 188, 303. 
 Erimanteo, Opico, 156. 
 Ernold, Chevalier, in Pamela Un- 
 married, 368-372, 376. 
 Erudite comedy, defined, 87-88. 
 Escarabombardon, in improvised 
 
 comedy, 109. 
 Esperonniere, U, 99. 
 Esprit de contradiction, L', 451. 
 Este, Eleonora d', 439. 
 Eufemia, in the bourgeois comedies, 
 
 276, in The Housekeeper, 307. 
 Eugenic, in the bourgeois comedies, 
 
 276. 
 Eulario, in The Discreet Wife, 250- 
 
 251 in The House Party, 257. 
 Eurilla, 467. 
 Euripides, 421. 
 
 Fabrice, in L'Ecossaise, 379-380, 
 381. 
 
 Fabula palliata, 112. 
 
 Fabula togata, 112. 
 
 Faenze, G in, 39. 
 
 Fairet, Marie, 99. 
 
 Fair Pilgrim, The, see Bella pelle- 
 grina, La. 
 
 Fair Savage, The, see Bella sel- 
 vaggia, La. 
 
 Falchi, Luigi, 375, 581. 
 
 Famiglia dell' antiquario, La 
 (The Antiquarian's Family}, de- 
 scribed, 299-300; 1 88, 240, 347, 
 
 539- 
 
 Fan, The, see Fentaglio, II. 
 Fanatic Poet, The, see Poeta Fa- 
 
 natico, II. 
 
 Fanti, Francesco, 400. 
 Farnese, Elizabeth, 56-57. 
 Farsetti, Daniele, 408. 
 Fata Morgana, in The Love of the 
 
 Three Oranges, 418. 
 Father, a Rival of His Son, The, 
 
 see Padre rivale del suo figlio. 
 Father of a Family, The, see 
 
 Padre di famiglia, II, see also 
 
 Pere de famille, Le. 
 Father through Love, The, see 
 
 Padre per amore, II. 
 Fatima, in The Persian Bride, 442. 
 Fausse antipathie, La, 365. 
 Fausse coquette, La, 571. 
 Faustino, in War, 386-387. 
 Fayette, Madame de la, 361. 
 Feen, Die, 421. 
 Favart, G's crony, 464; praises G, 
 
 473; in the pique-nique, 481; 
 
 tells story of G, 484; G's true 
 
 friend, 583; dies, 584. 
 Fegeio, Polisseno, 163. 
 Feigned Invalid, The, see Finta 
 
 ammalata, La. 
 
 Felice, in The Boors, 331, 337. 
 Feltre, G in, 35-38, 62-63. 
 Femmine puntigliose, Le (The 
 
 Punctilious Ladies), described, 
 
 551-560; 195, 197, 240, 252, 542. 
 Ferdinando, in the villeggiatura 
 
 trilogy, 259, 261. 
 Fernando, in The Intrepid Woman, 
 
 451. 
 
INDEX 
 
 679 
 
 Ferney, The Sage of, see Voltaire. 
 
 Ferramonti, Antonia, 66. 
 
 Ferrara, 99, 216, 437'44O. 
 
 Festino, II (The Ball], described, 
 454-456; 215, 218, 240, 539, 541. 
 
 Feudatory, The, see F eudatario , II. 
 
 Feuilli, 527-528. 
 
 Fiabe teatrali, 89, 92, 418. 
 
 Fickle Woman, The, see Donna 
 volubile, La. 
 
 Fiera, La, 217. 
 
 Figaro, 106, 519. 
 
 Flglia obbediente, La (The Obedi- 
 ent Daughter], 289-290, 509. 
 
 Figlio d'Arlecchino perduto e ri- 
 trovato, II (Harlequin's Son Lost 
 and Found], described, 149; 
 written at Pisa, 163; performed 
 at Fontainebleau, 471; at La 
 Comedie italienne, 501. 
 
 Filiberto, in A Curious Mishap, 
 377- 
 
 Filipeto, in The Boors, 331, 337. 
 
 Filippo, in Marriage by Competi- 
 tion, 513-514. 
 
 Filosofo inglese, II (The English 
 Philosopher] , described, 443-446; 
 .375* 396. 
 
 Filosofo veneziano, II (The Vene- 
 tian Philosopher], 396. 
 
 Fils nature!, Le (The Natural 
 Son], 475. 
 
 Finta ammalata, La (The Feigned 
 Invalid], 550. 
 
 Finzi, Giuseppe, 154. 
 
 Fiorelli, Tiberio (Scaramouche), 
 108, 117, 499. 
 
 Fitch, Clyde, 190. 
 
 Flaminia, in the improvised com- 
 edy, no, 119. 
 
 Flamminio, in The Cavalier and 
 the Lady, 242, 246, 273 ; in The 
 Inquisitive Women, 297. 
 
 Flatterer, The, see Adulatore, L'. 
 
 Flatteur, Le, 252. 
 
 Floncel, Jeanne Franchise, 480. 
 
 Florence, Imer's troupe in, 71 ; G 
 in, 159, 197; G publishes at, 212. 
 
 Florida, in The House Party, 256; 
 in War, 386-388. 
 
 Florindo, Venetian actor at Rimini, 
 17; G runs away to Chioggia 
 with, 18-19; at Feltre, 36; gives 
 G first practical stage knowl- 
 edge, 132. 
 
 Florindo, lover in improvised com- 
 edy, no; in The Servant of Two 
 Masters, 143 ; in The Clever 
 Woman, 146, 147; in The Vene- 
 tian Advocate, 303-304; in The 
 Housekeeper, 307; in The Punc- 
 tilious Ladies, 554, 557. 
 
 Folle journee, La (The Wanton 
 Day], 571. 
 
 Fond Mother, The, see Madre 
 amorosa, La. 
 
 Fondazione di Venezia, La (The 
 Foundation of Venice], 65. 
 
 Fontainebleau, 471, 528, 529. 
 
 Fontene, in Marriage by Competi- 
 tion, 515. 
 
 Forlipopoli, Marchese di, in The 
 Mistress of the Inn, 265, 267, 
 278, 5", 53?. 
 
 Forma splendida, 153. 
 
 Formica, 109. 
 
 Fortunate (Toni), in The Chiog- 
 gian Br avals, 350-351, 356. 
 
 Foscolo, Ugo, 230, 232. 
 
 Foundation of Venice, The, see 
 Fondazione di Venezia, La. 
 
 Fracasse, Capitaine, see also Fra- 
 casso, 101. 
 
 Fracasso, described, 108; 101, 109, 
 114, 178, 395. 
 
 Fragiotto, in The Housekeeper, 
 307- 
 
 France, Italian mask actors in, 114, 
 115; G in, 124; G enters to re- 
 main in, 468. 
 
 Francesco II, Duke of Modena, 9. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, 567. 
 
 Freeport, in L'Ecossaise, 379. 
 
 Frelon, in L'Ecossaise, 379-381, 382. 
 
 Freron, 381^475, 57*. " 
 
 Fritellino, in improvised comedy, 
 109. 
 
 Frontino, a name of Brighella, 105. 
 
 Frugoni, 157, 466. 
 
 Frusta Letteraria, 89, 422. 
 
 Fuller, Henry B., translates The 
 Coffee-House, 285; The Fan, 511. 
 
 Fusina, 171. 
 
 Gabriele, Panzanini, 115. 
 Gabrielli, Francesco, 499. 
 Gabrielli, Luisa, 499. 
 Galanti, Ferdinando, 320, 375. 
 
68o 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Galilei, Galileo, 153. 
 
 Galuppi, 137. 
 
 Gandini, La, 209. 
 
 Gandini, Pietro, 209-210. 
 
 Garde, De la, 476, 477. 
 
 Garelli, 165. 
 
 Garrick, David, 422. 
 
 Garzia, in The Military Lover, 
 
 384-385. 
 
 Garzoni, Tommaso, 96, 97, 103. 
 Gasparina, in The Public Square, 
 
 463- 
 
 Gazzetta Veneta, 390, 408, 413, 414. 
 
 Gelosi, 102, 115, 116, 499. 
 
 Gelosia di Arlecchino, La (Harle- 
 quin's Jealousy), 480, 505. 
 
 Geloso avaro, II (The Jealous 
 Miser), described, 252; 207, 240. 
 
 Generosita politica, La, 137. 
 
 Genio buono e il genio cattivo, II 
 (The Good Genius and the Bad 
 Genius), 517-518. 
 
 Genlis, Madame de, 564. 
 
 Genoa, G in, 69-70; marries there, 
 71 ; appointed consul of, in 
 Venice, 73; said to have visited, 
 169; embarks for France from, 
 467. 
 
 Geronte, a derivative of Pantolone, 
 103 ; in The Beneficent Bear, 340, 
 347, 519-525; modelled on Ber- 
 tinazzi, 529. 
 
 Ghelthof, G. M. Urban! de, 191. 
 
 Gherardo, in Tasso, 437. 
 
 Ghislieri College, G in, 22-24. 
 
 Ghost Story, The (Mostellaria), 
 absorbed by improvised comedy, 
 91. 
 
 Giacinta, in the improvised com- 
 edy, no; in the villeggiatura 
 trilogy, 260. 
 
 Giacinto, in The Merchants, 
 
 293- 
 Giannma, in The Merchants, 292; 
 
 in A Curious Mishap, 377. 
 Gilbert, William Schwenck, 314. 
 Giovagnoli, Raffaello, 589. 
 Geraldi, 84. 
 Girls of the Castle Quarter, The, 
 
 see Putte di castello, Le. 
 Giulia, in The Contriving Woman, 
 
 253- 
 
 Giuocatore, II, 197. 
 Gnese, in The Public Square, 463. 
 Goethe, 348-350, 35^, 358, 440. 
 
 Goldoni Alberto, G's great-grand- 
 uncle, 8. 
 
 Goldoni, Antonia, G's great-grand- 
 aunt, 8. 
 
 Goldoni, Antonio Francesco, G's 
 nephew, adopted, 213; goes to 
 Paris with G, 406; G uses in- 
 fluence for, 490; Madame Ade- 
 laide obtains places for, 493 ; 
 witnesses G's death certificate, 
 586. ^ 
 
 Goldoni, Carlo, statue in Venice, 
 3, 7; born, 3, 8; ancestry, 8-15; 
 removes to Perugia, 13, 15; 
 shows love for stage, 16; school 
 at Rimini, 17; sees strolling 
 players, 17, 45; runs away from 
 school with players, 17, 18, 44; 
 describes flight, 18-19; soubrettes, 
 19; in mischief, 20-21, studies 
 law in Venice, 21 ; in Pavia, 21, 
 22; in Milan, 22; attends law 
 lectures, 22; discovers lack of 
 national drama, 23 ; vows to 
 supply deficiency, 23 ; receives 
 tonsure and enters Ghislieri Col- 
 lege, 23 ; learns French to study 
 Moliere, 24; escapade at Mo- 
 dena, 25; at Piacenza, 25; in 
 scrape at Pavia, 26-27; com- 
 poses a satire and is expelled 
 from college, 27, 44; law lec- 
 tures at Udine, 29; publishes 
 sonnets, 29 ; another scrape, 30- 
 31; flees to father, 31; life 
 abroad, 31; presents Martelli's 
 plays, 31; sent to University of 
 Modena, 32; intends to enter 
 monastery, 34; Venetian the- 
 atres change his intention, 34; 
 assistant to coadjutor at Chiog- 
 gia, 34; assistant to chancellor 
 at Feltre, 35; falls in love, 36- 
 37; produces Metastasio's op- 
 eras, 37-38; composes plays, 38; 
 Angelica, 38; father dies, 39; 
 studies law at Pavia, 40; ad- 
 mitted to Venetian bar, 42; 
 practises law, 42-45 ; writes 
 Amalasontha, 46; love affair, 47- 
 49; travels, 49-52; attached to 
 embassy at Milan, 54-58; has 
 play produced, 54; La Biondi, 
 55-62; sees war, 58, 62; play 
 accepted by Imer, 61-63 ; writes 
 
INDEX 
 
 68 1 
 
 operas and plays, 64-65 ; La Fer- 
 ramonti, 66; La Passalacqua, 67; 
 married in Genoa, 69-71 ; consul 
 of Genoa at Venice, 73 ; travels, 
 77-79; La Bonaldi, 78, 80; di- 
 rector of opera at Rimini, 81; 
 in Tuscany, 81 ; national com- 
 edy and improvised comedy, 87- 
 120; compared with Moliere, 
 120; work and achievement, 120- 
 127; poor critic of self, 127; his 
 purpose, 127-128; a commercial 
 dramatist, 130; stage-craft and 
 dramatic education, 131-133; re- 
 form of Italian stage, 133-134; 
 begins true career, 138; debt to 
 Venice, 139-142; influence of im- 
 provised comedy, 142-143; mod- 
 ernity of theory, 143-144; retro- 
 gression, 146-148 ; beginnings of 
 national comedy, 149-150; pio- 
 neer of the Risorgimento, 151; 
 in L'Arcadia, 159-160, 164; prac- 
 tises law at Pisa, 161-164; meets 
 D'Arbes, 164; Medebac, 167; 
 dramatist for Medebac, 168; at 
 Florence, i6q; at Mantua and 
 Modena, 170; in Venice again, 
 171 ; dramatist of Sant' Angelo 
 theatre, 181-201 ; signs new con- 
 tract, 185, rivals, 187; second 
 season, 187-189; third season, 
 189-197; begins reform of im- 
 provised comedy, 197 ; nervous 
 prostration, 198; at Turin, 199; 
 at Genoa, 199; La Corallina, 
 200-201; at Bologna, 201-203; 
 signs contract with Vendramins, 
 206 ; at San Luca theatre, 206- 
 229; trouble with La Corallina, 
 207; with La Gandini, 209-210; 
 Modena, 214; court poet of 
 Parma, 217; sees French actors, 
 217-218; meets Madame du Boc- 
 cage, 218; visits Rome, 219-223; 
 at Bologna, 225 ; subscription 
 edition of plays, 228 ; invited to 
 Paris, 228 ; summary of writings, 
 229; attitude toward Venice, 
 232; aristocratic comedies, 233- 
 268 ; attitude toward life, 270- 
 271 ; his bourgeois comedies, 
 2 73-3 o 9 > Venetian comedies, 311- 
 387; exotic comedies, 359-382; 
 lawyers in plays, 302-305 ; radi- 
 
 cal sentiments, 372-374; comedies 
 of army life, 382-388; rivals and 
 critics, 389; magnanimity, 389- 
 390; Gozzi, 389-391; Gori, 391; 
 Chiari, 393-403 ; defenders, 401- 
 402; Gozzi's successful attacks, 
 403 ; the Granelleschi, 407-408 ; 
 The Tartan, 409-411; false 
 charges, 412 ; Voltaire's defense, 
 414; Baretti, 415-422; offered 
 place in Paris, 423 ; farewell to 
 Venice, 423-426 ; his poetry, 427 ; 
 naturalism, 428 ; comedies in 
 verse, 429; classified, 430; com- 
 edies of classic poets, 430-431, 
 433-440; Martellian verse, 431- 
 433; exotic comedies in verse, 
 450-456; naturalistic comedies in 
 verse, 456-463 ; invited to Paris, 
 464; terms of engagement, 465; 
 prepares for exile, 465; leaves 
 Venice, 465; Albergati and Bo- 
 logna, 466 ; pension renewed at 
 Parma, 466; journey to Paris, 
 467-468; arrives in Paris, 468; 
 description of city, 470-471 ; 
 takes furlough, 471 ; first play 
 fails, 472; achieves a success, 
 473 ; returns to improvised com- 
 edy, 474; Diderot, 475-476; Les 
 Dominicaux, 476; Favart, 476; 
 opinion of French opera, 477; 
 La Veronese, 478; Lefebvre, 478; 
 Madame du Boccage, 478-479 ; 
 writes plays for Venice, 480; the 
 pique-nique, 481 ; ends engage- 
 ment with Comedie Italienne, 
 487; invitations from Venice and 
 abroad, 483 ; tutor to royalty, 
 483-486; partial blindness, 486- 
 487; courtiership, 490, 494; loses 
 tutorship, 491 ; leaves Versailles, 
 491; impecunious, 491; assured 
 of protection, 491; presents and 
 pension, 492; flatters royalty, 
 494; play for royal nuptials, 
 495; royal gratuity, 496-4975 
 pension, 497; life in Paris, 497; 
 achievements, 498 ; leisure at 
 last, 498; La Comedie Italienne, 
 and reform, 502-503 ; clean- 
 mindedness, 509-510; dramatic 
 abilities, 516-517; follows Gozzi, 
 517-518; on La Comedie Fran- 
 gaise, 518-526; first performance 
 
68z 
 
 INDEX 
 
 of The Bear, 526-527; last play 
 fails, 529-531; work done, 531; 
 dies, 532; Chenier obtains pen- 
 sion for, 532-533; republicanism, 
 533 ; Voltaire on, 533-538; com- 
 pares himself unfavorably with 
 Moliere, 538-539; comparison 
 with Moliere, 540-560; his last 
 plays, 561-562; Rousseau, 563- 
 565; visits Voltaire, 566-569; 
 niece marries, 570; estimate of 
 Beaumarchais, 571-572; joy in 
 art, 573; private life, 573;576; 
 the Memoirs, 576-578 ; political 
 faith, 578-579; on America, 579; 
 religion, 579-580; moderation, 
 581; translates, 582-583; poor 
 and in ill health, 585; death, 
 586; radicalism, 589; tablet to 
 memory, 589; summary, 589-594. 
 
 Goldoni, Carlo Alessandro, G's 
 grandfather, 8; removes to Ven- 
 ice and marries, 9; marries 
 again, 10; G characterizes, n; 
 dies, 11-12; family fortune re- 
 duced, 12. 
 
 Goldoni, Gian Paolo (Giampaolo), 
 G's brother, 13; soldier, 34; 
 brings cheat to G, 76 ; comes to 
 G with children, 213; G settles 
 debts of, 226 ; G gives property 
 to, 465 ; demise, 570. 
 
 Goldoni, Doctor Giulio, G's father, 
 9; spoils son, 12; studies medi- 
 cine in Rome, 13; in Perugia, 
 13; encourages G's love for 
 stage, 16; in Rimini and Mo- 
 dena, 17; in Chioggia, 20; in 
 Pavia and Milan, 22; abroad, 
 31; in Venice, 34; illness and 
 death, 39. 
 
 Goldoni, Luigi, G's great-grand- 
 uncle, 8. 
 
 Goldoni, Margherita Salvioni, G's 
 mother, 14; G characterizes, 14; 
 in Perugia, 16; in Chioggia, 34; 
 urges G to the law, 39; pays 
 G's debts, 49 ; in Modena, 59, 
 63; returns to Venice, 66; meets 
 G's bride, 72; welcomes Giam- 
 paolo's children, 213; dies, 214. 
 
 Goldoni, Maria Nicoletta Connio, 
 G meets at Genoa, 69-70; par- 
 entage, 70; G marries, 71; G 
 characterizes, 72-73, 75-76; at 
 
 Bologna, 77, Cattolica, Pesaro, 
 and Rimini, 79; La Rinaldi, 80; 
 in Genoa, 168; in Venice, 171; 
 in Genoa again, 199; adopts 
 grandchildren, 213; at Rome, 
 219; leaves Venice, 465; visits 
 Genoa and embarks for France, 
 467; little amused in Paris, 481; 
 meets royalty, 488; gratified 
 thereby, 495; illness, 574; part 
 in G's life, receives annuity, 586, 
 588; benefit for, 587. 
 
 Goldoni, Petronilla Margherita, 
 G's niece adopted by his mother, 
 213; in convent, 465; marries, 
 570; G provides dowry for, 570. 
 
 Goldoni-Vidoni, Marquis, gives 
 scholarship at Pavia to G, 20; 
 patron of G's family, 20; enter- 
 tains G and father at Milan, 
 22; takes G on journey, 26; ap- 
 peals for G, 27. 
 
 La Gondola (The Gondola] , 428. 
 
 Gondoliere veneziano, II (The 
 Venetian Gondolier] , described, 
 134-135; .54. 63, 137. 
 
 Good Family, The, see Buona fa- 
 miglia, La. 
 
 Good Genius and the Bad Genius, 
 The, see Genio buono e il genio 
 catti'vo, IL 
 
 Good Mother, The, see Buona 
 Madre, La. 
 
 Good Wije, The, see Buona mog- 
 lie, La. 
 
 Gorain, Count Giuseppe, 585-586. 
 
 Gori, plagiarizes The Singer, 62; 
 attacks G, 391. 
 
 Gorz, G in, 31. 
 
 Gouvernante, La, 451. 
 
 Gozzi, Carlo, Venetian writer, 7; 
 attacks G, 89 ; anticipated by 
 Scala, 92; on situations in im- 
 provised comedy, 116; G's mag- 
 nanimity to, 389; leads defend- 
 ers of improvised comedy, 393- 
 394; characterized, 403; an im- 
 placable enemy, 404; quarrels, 
 404; his Useless Memoirs, 404- 
 405; Granellescans, 407-408; 
 The Tartan, 408-409; G attacks, 
 409-410; replies, 411; false 
 charges against G, 412; Atti, 
 415; writes successful play, 417- 
 420; writes nine more, 421; aids 
 
INDEX 
 
 683 
 
 in bringing about G's exile, 424- 
 425; G imitates, 516-517; at- 
 tacks G's liberalism, 581. 
 
 Gozzi, Gasparo, criticizes G's 
 plays, 338-339, 3475 a Granel- 
 lescan, 402-403 ; edits Pasquali 
 edition of G's plays, 408, 465. 
 
 Gradellino, name of Brighella, 106. 
 
 Gradenigo, 187. 
 
 Gradenigo, Andrea, 480. 
 
 Gradenigo, Vittore, 496. 
 
 Gradisca, G in, 31. 
 
 Graffigny, Madame de, 441, 452. 
 
 Granellesca, Accademia, 407-1^08. 
 
 Gratarol, Pier Antonio, 404, 405. 
 
 Gravina, 156. 
 
 Gratz, G in, 31. 
 
 Graziano, Baloardo, name for II 
 D otto re, 104. 
 
 Grazzini, Anton Francesco, in. 
 
 Greek drama, see Drama, Greek. 
 
 Gretry, 448. 
 
 Grimani, 62, 64, 65. 
 
 Grimarest, Sieur de, 543. 
 
 Grimm, 268, 473, 505, 506, 526. 
 
 Griselda, 65, 136, 167, 183. 
 
 Grisologo, in The Discontented, 401. 
 
 Gritti, Giannantonio, 467. 
 
 Grossatesta, La, 51-52. 
 
 Guarini, 136. 
 
 Gubernatis, Angelo De, 194, 261. 
 
 Guerra, La (War}^ described, 385- 
 388 ; G obtains impressions for, 
 58. 
 
 Guerzoni, Giuseppe, 240, 536-537. 
 
 Guest of Stone, The, see Convitato 
 di pietra, II. 
 
 Guldoni, 'former spelling of Gol- 
 doni, 8. 
 
 Guldoni, Francesco, G's descent 
 derived from, 8. 
 
 Guldoni, Francesco Maria, G's 
 great-grandfather, 8. 
 
 Gustavo primo, re di Svezia, 73, 
 137, 138- 
 
 H 
 
 Hagn, Carlotta, 268. 
 
 Hague, The, 450. 
 
 Hamlet, 106, 192, 437, 541. 
 
 Harassed Man of Wealth, The, see 
 
 Ricco insidiato, II. 
 Hardy, Alexandre, 427. 
 Hardy, Madame, 489. 
 
 Harlequin, see also Arlecchino, 
 
 101, 417. 
 Harlequin's Jealousy, see Gelosia 
 
 di Arlecchino, La. 
 Harlequin's Son Lost and Found, 
 
 see Figlio d'Arlecchino perduto 
 
 e ritrovato, II. 
 
 Harlequin's Thirty-Two Misfor- 
 tunes, see Trentadue disgrazie 
 
 d'Arlecchino, Le. 
 Harpagon, 520, 530, 549. 
 Harpe, La, 364, 570. 
 Haydn, 137. 
 
 Hazards of Country Life, see Ad- 
 venture della villeggiatura, Le. 
 Henrietta of Modena, Princess, 
 
 467. 
 
 Henry III of France, 499. 
 Henslowe, 114. 
 Heywood, Thomas, 114. 
 Hippocrasso, name for II Dottore, 
 
 105. 
 Hircana, in the oriental plays, 442- 
 
 443- 
 Hircana at Ispahan, see Ircana in 
 
 Ispaan. 
 Hircana at Julfa, see Ircana in 
 
 Julfa. 
 Honest Adventurer, The, see A<v- 
 
 venturiere onorato, U. 
 Horace, 84. 
 Home, Charles F. 
 Hotel de Bourgogne, 98, 102, 115, 
 
 423, 468, 469, 470, 499, 500, 561. 
 Hotel du Petit Bourbon, 499. 
 House of Moliere, The, see Come- 
 
 die Franchise, La. 
 Housekeeper, The, see Castalda, 
 
 La. 
 House Party, The, see Villeggia- 
 
 tura, La. 
 
 Houssaye, Amelot de la, 232. 
 Houssaye, Arsene, 475. 
 Howells, William Dean, 45, 576. 
 Huillet, Madame Pothovin d', 479. 
 Hundred and Four Mishaps in One 
 
 Night, The, see Cento e quattro 
 
 accident? in una notte. 
 
 lago, 451. 
 Ibsen, 127, 378. 
 
 Imaginary Cuckold, The, see Cocu 
 imaginaire, Le. 
 
68 4 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Imer, Giuseppe, 62-63, 64, 65, 67, 
 69, 7 1 . 77 !23> !42> *73> 3."- 
 
 Impostor, The, see Raggiratore, 
 II. 
 
 Impostore, L' (The Swindler), de- 
 scribed, 383-384; source of, 76; 
 273. 
 
 Impressarlo delle Smirne, L' (The 
 Manager from Smyrna), 290- 
 291, 509. 
 
 Impromptu de Versailles, U (The 
 Versailles Impromptu), 194, 541, 
 
 543- 
 
 Improvised comedy, G attacks, 82 ; 
 defined, 87-119; begins early and 
 humbly, 89; absorbs classic 
 plots, 89-90; distinguished, 91; 
 writers of scenari for, 92 ; sur- 
 vivals of, 92; lazzi, 92-93; doti, 
 93; zibaldone, 94; scenari de- 
 fined, 92-93 ; distinguished from 
 religious plays, 94-95; require- 
 ments of actor in, 95 ; under 
 censorship, 95; used in cause of 
 liberty, 96; criticized by Bar- 
 bieri, 96; by Tassoni, 96; by 
 Garzoni, 96; described by Gar- 
 zoni, 97; scenari of, 97-98; Cal- 
 lot draws characters in, 97-98; 
 women on stage of, 99-100; debt 
 of world to, 100; make-up in, 
 100; Moliere adopts technic and 
 characters of, 100; modern 
 drama derived from, 101 ; local- 
 ized in cities, 102 ; mask char- 
 acters in, 103-109; lovers in, 
 109-110; origin of, no; in an- 
 cient Rome, 112-113; in modern 
 Europe, 113-116; dramatic situ- 
 ations in, 116; defects of, 116- 
 118; virtues of, 118-119; deca- 
 dence of, 124-126; G and reform 
 of, 127-130; in Venice, 177; its 
 decadence, 178; infirm, 406; 
 Gozzi defends, 408, 415; in 
 Paris, 499-503 ; flowers in The 
 Fan, etc., 512, 516-517; teacher 
 of both Moliere and G, 540. 
 
 Indric, Gian Paolo, 21, 42. 
 
 Incognita, L' (The Unknown), 298. 
 
 Ingegneri, 84. 
 
 Innamorati, Git (The Lovers), de- 
 scribed, 298-299; 227. 
 
 Inquietudini di Camilla, Le (Ca- 
 milla's Tribulations), 480, 505. 
 
 Inquisitive Women, The, see Donne 
 curiose, Le. 
 
 Intrepid Woman, The, see Donna 
 forte, La. 
 
 Ircana in Ispaan (Hircana at Is- 
 pahan), 443. 
 
 Ircana in Julfa (Ircana at Julfa), 
 
 443- 
 
 Isabella, 119. 
 
 Isabelle, in // Moliere, 544. 
 Isacco, in Pamela Unmarried, 370. 
 Isola di Bengodi, L', 561. 
 Italy, art of, in eighteenth century, 
 
 6; renaissance drama in, 83-85; 
 
 improvised comedy in, 87-119; 
 
 debt of modern theatre to, 98- 
 
 100. 
 
 Jealous Miser, The, see Avaro 
 
 geloso, L'. 
 Jealous Women, The, see Donne 
 
 gelose, Le. 
 
 Jerusalem Conquered, 437. 
 Jerusalem Delivered, 436. 
 Jeu de I'amour et du hazard, Le, 
 
 308. 
 Jevre, in Pamela Unmarried, 366, 
 
 373, 375- 
 
 Jewkes, Mrs., 364. 
 John V of Portugal, 157. 
 Johnson, Samuel, 422. 
 Jomelli, 137. 
 
 Jourdain, Monsieur, 530, 551, 559. 
 Jonson, Ben, 114. 
 Jouen, 476. 
 
 Jovial Men, The, see Morbinosi, I. 
 Jovial Women, The, see Morbi- 
 
 nose, Le. 
 
 Kalidasa, 194. 
 
 Knight of the Tuft, The, in Tasso, 
 438. 
 
 Laibach, G in, 31. 
 Lalli, Domenico, 65. 
 Lancisi, Giovanni, 13. 
 Lantieri, Count of, 31. 
 Laprime, 586. 
 Larroumet, Gustave, 365. 
 
INDEX 
 
 685 
 
 Lasca, II, in. 
 
 Lastenio, 408. 
 
 Laujon, 481. 
 
 Lauzio, Professor, 22, 23, 132, 133. 
 
 Lavinia, in The House Party, 253- 
 257. f 
 
 Lazzari, A., 9, 13. 
 
 Lazzarini, 178. 
 
 Lazzi, defined, 92-93. 
 
 Leandre, in // Moliere, 544. 
 
 Leandro, no; in The Coffee-House, 
 281-284. 
 
 Lee, Vernon, no; 112, 357, 403. 
 
 Lefebvre, Catherine, 478. 
 
 Leghorn, G in, 166, 259. 
 
 Lekain^ 474, 527. ^ 
 
 Lelio, in improvised comedy, no, 
 500; in The Liar, 291-292; in 
 The Housekeeper, 307 ; in The 
 Love of the Three Oranges, 417; 
 in The Punctilious Ladies, 553, 
 
 556-557- 
 
 Lelio, see Riccoboni, Luigi. 
 
 Leporello, 92. 
 
 Le Sage, 500. 
 
 Lettres de la montagne, Les, 486. 
 
 Leyden, 449. 
 
 Liar, The, see Bugiardo, II. 
 
 Libera, in The Chioggian Brawls, 
 .350. 
 
 Lindane, in L'Ecossaise, 379-380; 
 in The Scotch Girl, 380-381. 
 
 Lindoro, in the Zelinda plays, 507- 
 508. 
 
 Lindoro's Jealousy, see Gelosia di 
 Lindoro, La. 
 
 Lisaura, in the bourgeois comedies, 
 276. 
 
 Lisbon, 483, 505. 
 
 Lisca, in Terence, 434. 
 
 Lisetta, in Marriage by Competi- 
 tion, 513-514- 
 
 Literary Scourge, The, 422. 
 
 Little Dalmatian, The, see Dal- 
 matina, La. 
 
 Livia, in Terence, 434; in The Ca- 
 pricious Woman, 452. 
 " Locandiera, La (The Mistress of 
 
 the Inn), characterized, 207- 
 
 208, 264-268; 200, 278, 509. 
 
 Locatelli, Domenico, 499. 
 
 Lohner, Hermann von, 10, n, 13, 
 33, 70, 75, 169, 393. 
 
 Lombard!, Doctor, in The Bank- 
 ruptcy, 145. 
 
 Lombardo, Balanzon, name for II 
 
 Dottore, 105. 
 
 London, 444, 450, 483, 490, 505, 517. 
 London Assurance, 513. 
 Lone Woman, The, see Donna 
 
 sola, La. 
 
 Longhi, Pietro, 7. 
 Lope de Vega, 126, 427. 
 Loredan, Caterina, 204. 
 Lorenzini, 158. 
 Lorenzino, in The New House, 
 
 342, 345- 
 Loretto, 219. 
 Louis, Antoine, 476. 
 Louis XIV, 115. 
 Louis XV, 483, 487, 489, 494. 
 Louis XVI, 483, 494, 495, 497, 532. 
 Louise Elizabeth, Princess, 483. 
 Louise Marie, Princess, 488. 
 Love as a Doctor, see Amour 
 
 medecin, V. 
 Love of the Three Oranges, The t 
 
 see A more delle tre melarancie, 
 
 L'. 
 Lover of Himself, The, see Amante 
 
 di se medesimo. 
 
 Lovers, The, see Innamorati, Gli. 
 Lucanus, in Terence, 434. 
 Lucca, 164. 
 Lucietta, in The Boors, 330-331; 
 
 in The Neva House, 342-343, 458 ; 
 
 in The Chioggian Brawls, 350- 
 
 356; in The Public Square, 463. 
 Lucky Heiress, The, see Erede 
 
 fortunata, L'. 
 Lucretius, 590. 
 Lucrezia, in The Jealous Women, 
 
 324-325. 
 Lucrezia romana in Constantino- 
 
 poll, 73. 
 Ludro, in The Man of the World, 
 
 140. 
 Lunardo, in The Boors, 326-337; 
 
 339, 340, 457, 511. 
 Lyons, G in, 468. 
 
 M 
 
 Maccus, 108, 113. 
 Machiavelli, Nicolo, 24, 87. 
 Machmout, in The Persian Bride, 
 
 442. 
 Maddalena, E., 268, 383, 474, 476, 
 
 537, 566, 567, 568. 
 Maddalo, 437. 
 
686 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Madre amorosa, La (The Fond 
 Mother}, 305-306. 
 
 Maeterlinck, Maurice, 421. 
 
 Maffei, Count Scipione, 50, 135, 
 508.^ 
 
 Maggiore, Francesco (Ciccio), 80. 
 
 Magnifico, II, name for Pantalone, 
 103. 
 
 Maids-of -all-Work, The, see Mas- 
 sere, Le. 
 
 Maison neuve, La, 347-348. 
 
 Make-Up, Theatrical, due to im- 
 provised comedy, 100. 
 
 Malamani, Vittorio, 175, 190. 
 
 Malcontenti, I (The Discontent- 
 ed], 259, 347, 401. 
 
 Malherbe, 153. 
 
 Man and Superman, 139. 
 
 Man of the World, The, see Uomo 
 di mondo, L'. 
 
 Manager from Smyrna, The, see 
 Impresario delle Smirne, L'. 
 
 Mandragola, La (The Mandrake], 
 24, 87, 133- 
 
 Mandrake, The, see Mandragola, 
 La. 
 
 Mantegna, 85. 
 
 Mantovani, Dino, 207, 224, 226, 
 227. 
 
 Mantua, G in, 170, 190. 
 
 Mantzius, Karl, 99, 100, 529. 
 
 Manage de Figaro, Le, 528, 571. 
 
 Maria Theresa, 79. 
 
 Marianna, 395. 
 
 Marie Antoinette, 488, 495, 578. 
 
 Margarita, in The Boors, 33<>-33i- 
 
 Marini, 154. 
 
 Marivaux, 277, 308, 358, 361, 365, 
 481, 500, 519, 525- 
 
 Marliani, Maddalena, 183, 200, 
 208, 293. 
 
 Marly, G in, 488. 
 
 Marmetta, a name for Colombina, 
 
 109. 
 
 Marmontel, 451, 481- 
 Marriage by Competition, see Mat- 
 
 rimonio per concorso, II. 
 Marseilles, G in, 468. 
 Martelli, Pier lacopo, 31, 154, 431- 
 
 432. 
 
 Martinelli, Drusiano, 114. 
 Marzio, in The Coffee-House, 278- 
 
 285, 382, 457 5", 530. 
 Mascarille, a name for Bnghella, 
 
 jo6. 
 
 Maschera, Sior, 231. 
 
 Masi, Ernesto, 121, 296, 297, 482, 
 
 512. 
 
 Masks, separated into groups, 102 ; 
 Venetian, 102, 107; Neapolitan, 
 103, 107; Pantalone, 104; II Dot- 
 tore, 104; half masks, 105; full 
 masks, 105; Zanni, 105; Arlec- 
 chino, 105; Brighella, 105; Pul- 
 cinella, 107; minor characters, 
 108-109; in Austria and Ba- 
 varia, 114; in France, 114, 115- 
 116; in Spain, 115; in England, 
 114-115. 
 
 Massere, Le (The Maids-of -all- 
 Work), 457, 459. 
 Master Theodore the Grumbler, 
 
 340-341. 
 
 Matamoras, 108, 109. 
 Matrimonio per concorso, II (Mar- 
 riage by Competition), 513-515, 
 5*6, 5 1 /- 
 
 Matteucci, Antonio, 190. 
 Mazoni, Guido, 14, 133, 171, 190. 
 Maurizio, in The Boors, 326-328. 
 McKenzie, Kenneth, 511, 512. 
 Medebac, Girolamo, G returns to 
 Venice with, 81 ; marks epoch in 
 G's life, 122 ; D'Arbes in troupe 
 of, 165; G becomes playwright 
 for, 167-169; engages Sant' An- 
 gelo theatre, 182; signs new con- 
 tract with G, 185; niggardly 
 conduct, 198; notified of G's de- 
 parture, 207; takes profit from 
 G's publications, 212; G suffers 
 from labours for, 214, 402. 
 Medebac, Teodora, 167, 179, 182, 
 
 207-208. 
 Medico olandese, II (The Dutch 
 
 Doctor), 446, 449-450. 
 Memoirs of Carlo Goldini, The 
 (Memoirs de M. Goldoni), 8, 
 576-578. 
 
 Memorie inutili (Useless Me- 
 moirs), 404-405, 408, 416. 
 Menander, 86, 119, 132, 357, 510. 
 Meneghino, 109. 
 Menelaus, 178, 395. 
 Menechina, in The New House, 
 
 342, 343, 345, 346. 
 Menteur, Le (The Liar), 291-292. 
 Mercanti, I (The Merchants), de- 
 scribed, 292-293; 200, 501. 
 Merchants, The, see Mercanti, /. 
 
INDEX 
 
 687 
 
 Mercure de France, Le, 481. 
 
 Mere confidente, La, 365. 
 
 Merlato, Maria, 252, 257. 
 
 Merlino, in Women's Tittle-Tat- 
 tle, 322-324- 
 
 Mestre, 171. 
 
 Metastasio, 38, 134, 136, 137, 154, 
 156, 173, 177, 291. 
 
 Mezzettino, a name of Arlecchino, 
 105. 
 
 Milan, G in, 51-57; Valerini under 
 censorship in, 95; G visits, 190. 
 
 Miles Gloriosus, 108. 
 
 Military Lover, The, see Amante 
 militare, L'. 
 
 Mimes, 112. 
 
 Miracle plays, see Drama, Reli- 
 gious. 
 
 Mirandolina, in The Mistress of 
 the Inn, 264-268, 278, 307, 457. 
 
 Misadventure, The, see Contrat- 
 tempo, 11. 
 
 Misanthrope, The, 452, 474, 518, 
 538-539- 
 
 Miser, The, see Avare, L'. 
 
 Miser, The, see Avaro, U. 
 
 Miss Jenny, translated by G from 
 the French of Madame Ricco- 
 boni, 469, 583. 
 
 Mistress of the Inn, The, see 
 Locandiera, La. 
 
 Mocenigo, 172. 
 
 Mocenigo, Giovanni, 204, 480. 
 
 Mocenigo, Sebastiano, 480. 
 
 Modena, G's family originates in, 
 8; prominent there, 9; G's fam- 
 ily removes from, 9 ; G's father 
 has property in, 22 ; G's esca- 
 pade in, 25 ; G in University of, 
 32; G's mother in, 59, 63; leaves, 
 66; invaded by Sardinians, 74; 
 G in, 75, 170, 214; Chiari visits, 
 399-400. 
 
 Modena, Duke of, G's kinsman 
 councillor to, 9; visits Venice, 9; 
 gives protection to G, 40; in- 
 volved in war, 74, 75; G pre- 
 sented to, 77-78. 
 
 Moglie saggia, La (The Sensible 
 Wife], described, 253; 200, 240, 
 301, 458, 509. 
 
 Mole, 474. 
 
 Moliere, raises French comedy to 
 superlative level, 23 ; G resolves 
 to study, 24; Secchi and Bar- 
 
 bieri supply plots to, 92 ; no old 
 women on stage of, 99 ; adopts 
 improvised comedy technic and 
 characters, 100; first of modern 
 playwrights, 100; doctors of, 
 suggested by II Dottore, 105; his 
 Mascarille and Scapin, 107; de- 
 rives his soubrettes from Colom- 
 bina, 109; improvised comedy 
 lovers in plays of, no; uses 
 Italian material and technic, 
 116, 118; G's Don Giovanni 
 Tenorio in imitation of, 120; 
 differentiated from G, 120; G 
 lacks power of social criticism 
 of, 152-153; G knew works of, 
 194; G lacks power of, 239; and 
 daring, 240; his realism and G's 
 naturalism, 310; pure comedy of, 
 362; G's sentiments more radi- 
 al, 373J before modern audi- 
 ences, 378; much less prolific 
 than G, 427; and more passion- 
 ate, 428; G less forceful, 452; 
 G uses method of, 455, G in- 
 vokes shade of, 468; G sees The 
 Misanthrope, 474; his courtier- 
 ship, 490; artistic decency, 510; 
 G invades realm of, 519; plays 
 compared with G's, 533-560, 
 compared with G, 590-591. 
 
 Moliere, II (Moliere}, described, 
 430-432, 542-546; 199, 395, 508, 
 539, 543- 
 
 Moliere, a Jealous Husband, see 
 Moliere marito geloso. 
 
 Moliere marito geloso (Moliere, a 
 Jealous Husband), 395. 
 
 Molina, Tirso de, 92, 547. 
 
 Molmenti, Pompeo, 98, 125, 172, 
 173, I77,.2i 3 , 337, 341, 432. 
 
 Momolo, in The Man of the 
 World, 139; in The Prodigal, 
 141. 
 
 Momolo cortesan, 139. 
 
 Monde ou I'on s' ennuie, Le, 261. 
 
 Monnier, Philippe, 171, 178, 230, 
 237, 260, 273, 276, 417, 591. 
 
 Monsigny, 448. 
 
 Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley s 
 230. 
 
 Monte Rosso, Marquis de, in The 
 Intrepid Woman, 451. 
 
 Monte parnasso, II, 226. 
 
 Moore, Charles Leonard, 360. 
 
688 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Morbinose, Le (The Jovial Wom- 
 en}, 457, 460-461, 515-. 
 
 Morbinosi, I (The Jovial Men), 
 457, 459-46o, 509. 
 
 Morgan, Miss Anna, 511. 
 
 Morley, John, 567. 
 
 Morosini, 172. 
 
 Mostellaria, 91. 
 
 Mostro turchino, II, 421. 
 
 Movelli, 29. 
 
 Mozart, 92, 137. 
 
 Munich, 339. 
 
 Muratori, 486. 
 
 Murray, Lord, in L'Ecossaise, 379- 
 380. 
 
 Musatti, Cecare, 137. 
 
 Musset, Paul de, 403. 
 
 Mystery plays, see Drama, Reli- 
 gious. 
 
 N 
 
 Nane, in The Respectable Girl, 
 
 316. 
 
 Nanine, 361, 374. 
 
 Naples, parent of Pulcinella, 107. 
 Natural Son, The, see Fils naturel, 
 
 Le. 
 
 Neri, Achille, 413, 467. 
 Neufchateau, Frangois de, 568. 
 New House, The, see Casa nova, 
 
 La, and Maison neuve, La. 
 Nice, G in, 467. 
 Nores, 84. 
 Novelli, 525. 
 
 Obedient Daughter, The, see Fig 
 lia obbediente, La. 
 
 Olivetta, in The Obedient Daugh- 
 ter, 289. 
 
 One of the Last Evenings of the 
 Carnival, 424-426. 
 
 Onof rio, in The Punctilious Ladies, 
 156-157. 
 
 Opera comique, its creators, 448; 
 La Comedie Italienne unites 
 with, 468; G's estimate of, 
 469. 
 
 Opera eroica, defined, 92. 
 
 Opera Franchise, 102, 115, 477. 
 
 Opera mista, defined, 92. 
 
 Opera reale, defined, 92. 
 
 Orazio, in improvised comedy, no. 
 
 Orfeo (Orpheus), 85. 
 
 Oronte, derived from Pantalone, 
 103. 
 
 Oronte re de' Sciti, 73, 137. 
 
 Orpheus, see Orfeo. 
 
 Orsetta, in The Chioggian Brawls, 
 350-351, 356. 
 
 Orsi, Contessa, 466. 
 
 Orteschi, Luigi, 231. 
 
 Ortensia, in improvised comedy, 
 no. 
 
 Ortolani, 135, 356, 372, 375, 393, 
 395, 396, 435, 467- 
 
 Ostentatious Miser, The, see Avare 
 fastueux, L'. 
 
 Osteria della posta, L' (The Post 
 Inn], 269. 
 
 Othello, 451. 
 
 Ottavio, in bourgeois comedy, no, 
 119; in The Father of a Family, 
 288; in The Obedient Daughter, 
 289; in The Inquisitive Women, 
 297; in The Fanatic Poet, 302; 
 in The True Friend, 549; in The 
 Punctilious Ladies, 557-559. 
 
 Padre di famiglia, II (The Father 
 
 of a Family), described, 288- 
 
 289; 188, 306. 
 Padre per amore, 11 (The Father 
 
 through Love}, 452. 
 Padua Packet, The, see Burchiello 
 
 di Padova, II. 
 Padua, University of, G a student 
 
 in, 40-41. 
 Pailleron, 261. 
 Paisiello, 137. 
 Palermo, 552. 
 Palladio, 98, 173. 
 Pamela, La Chausee's comedy, 362; 
 
 De Boissy's comedy, 362. 
 Pamela, in Pamela Unmarried, 
 
 367-368. 
 
 Pamela maritata (Pamela Mar- 
 ried], 223, 376. 
 Pamela nubile (Pamela Unmar* 
 
 ried), described, 366-376; 195, 
 
 208, 223, 360, 361, 365, 376, 395, 
 
 406, 432, 578. 
 Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded, 
 
 361-363. 
 Pancrazio, in The Father of a 
 
 Family, 288; in The Merchants, 
 
INDEX 
 
 689 
 
 293; in The Venetian Twins, 
 
 391, 545- 
 
 Pandolfo, a derivative of Panta- 
 lone, 103; in the bourgeois com- 
 edies, 276; in The Coffee-House, 
 287; in Marriage by Competi- 
 tion, 513. 
 
 Panich, in The English Philoso- 
 pher, 444-446. 
 
 Pantalone, in the improvised com- 
 edy, 103-104, 101, 102, 103, 105, 
 no, in, 113, 116, 118, 126, 143, 
 144, 178, 233, 415, 497; in the 
 bourgeois comedies, 272-273, 308- 
 309, 373- 
 
 Pantalone, in The Sensible Wife, 
 253; in The Prudent Man, 274, 
 303 ; in The Obedient Daughter, 
 289 ; in The Merchants, 292, 293 ; 
 in The Fickle Woman, 293; in 
 The Inquisitive Women, 294- 
 295, 298; in The Unknown, 298; 
 in The Lovers, 298-299; in The 
 Antiquarian's Family, 300; in 
 The Sensible Wife, 301 ; in The 
 Clever Woman, 303; in The 
 Clever Lady's-Maid, 306; in 
 The Housekeeper, 306; in The 
 Respectable Girl, 314; in The 
 Good Wife, 320; in The Swin- 
 dler, 383-384; in The Military 
 Lover, 384-385; in The Love of 
 the Three Oranges, 417; in The 
 Whimsical Old Man, 478; in 
 The Jealous Miser, 550; in The 
 Punctilious Ladies, 554. 
 
 Pantalone imprudente, II, 207. 
 
 Pantalon Paroncin (Pantaloon, a 
 Fop), 106. 
 
 Pantaloon, see also Pantalone, 101, 
 178. 
 
 Pantaloon, a Fop, see Pantalon 
 Paroncin. 
 
 Pantomime, 102. 
 
 Paoluccio, in The House Party, 
 
 2 54-. . 
 
 Papermi, 212. 
 Pappus, 113. 
 Paradisi, Agostini, G visits, 466; 
 
 G writes, 503 ; recommends G 
 
 to Voltaire, 534. 
 Pariati, 65, 137. 
 Parini, 154. 
 Paris, G invited to, 423, 464; G 
 
 arrives in, 468 ; G describes, 470- 
 
 471 ; G comes to leisure in, 497- 
 498; dramatic work in, 499-531; 
 last days in, 561-586; death in, 
 586. 
 
 Parma, 9, G sees battle at, 60; G 
 in, 217-218, 437. 
 
 Parma, Duke of, F. M. Guldoni 
 in orchestra of, 8; G composes 
 libretti for, 217; appoints G 
 court poet, 217; at Colorno, 217- 
 218; renews G's pension, 466; 
 dies, 448. 
 
 Parrhasian Grove, 157. 
 
 Pasini, Catterina, G's grandmoth- 
 er, 10. 
 
 Pasqua, in The Chioggian Brawls, 
 35, 352-356; in The Public 
 Square, 462. 
 
 Pasquali, 228, 465. 
 
 Pasqualino, in The Respectable 
 Girl, 312; in The Good Wife, 
 320. 
 
 Pasquariello, in improvised com- 
 edy, 109. 
 
 Pasquella, in improvised comedy, 
 109, 119. 
 
 Passalacqua, La, 67-69, 547. 
 
 Pastor Fido, 196. 
 
 Pavia, G at Ghislieri College in, 
 22-23; G in scrape at, 26-27, 132. 
 
 Peche, Teresa, 268. 
 
 Pedrolino, a name for Brighella, 
 105, 107. 
 
 Pere de famille, Le (The Father 
 of a Family) , Diderot's comedy, 
 475- . 
 
 Perfetti, Bernardino, 158, 159, 437. 
 
 Periodo dell' esagerazione, 153. 
 
 Persia, 441. 
 
 Persian Bride, The, see Sposa per- 
 siana, La. 
 
 Peru, 441. 
 
 Perucci, 547. 
 
 Perugia, 13, 16. 
 
 Peruviana, La (The Peruvian 
 Girl), 441. 
 
 Peruvian Girl, The, see Peruviana, 
 La. 
 
 Pesaro, Spaniards retreat to, 78; 
 Gian Paolo there, 78; G arrives 
 in, 79. 
 
 Petrarch, 158, 159. 
 
 Pettegolezzi delle donne, I (Wom- 
 en's Tittle-Tattle), described, 
 320-324; 195. 
 
690 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Philador, 448. 
 
 Philip V of Spain, 56. 
 
 Philip, Infante of Spain, see 
 
 Parma, Duke of. 
 Phormion, 435. 
 Piacenza, G in, 25, 467. 
 Piantaleone, 104. 
 Picard, in The Beneficent Bear, 
 
 ^522-525. 
 Pindar, 159. 
 
 Pinero, Arthur Wing, 253. 
 Pierrot, derivative of Brighella, 
 
 105,^107. 
 
 Piisimi, Vittoria, 115. 
 Pinto, Bartolommeo, 299. 
 Pirlone, in // Moliere, 545. 
 Pisa, G in, 160, 161-164. 
 Pisani, Marina Sagredo, 214. 
 Pitt, William, 230. 
 Pittoche fortunati, I, 421. 
 Pizzighettone, G at, siege of, 58. 
 Pizzolato, Giuseppe, 339. 
 Place, Pierre Antoine de la, 476, 
 
 481, 583. 
 Piautus, 86, 91, 108, 119, 132, 434, 
 
 435, 5io, 549. 
 
 Podesta of Chioggia, 35, 50-51. 
 Poeta fanatico, II (The Fanatic 
 
 Poet], 153, 195. 
 Poirier, Monsieur, 253. 
 Poliziano, 85. 
 Poloni, Maddalena, 299. 
 Poloni, Pietro, 220-221, 225. 
 Pompadour, La, 476. 
 Pontano, no. 
 Porte, De la, 476. 
 Post Inn, The, see Osteria delta 
 
 posta, V. 
 
 Prata, Count Francesco, 51, 53. 
 Prati di castello, 155. 
 Precieuses ridicules, Les, 261. 
 Presles, Due de, 253. 
 Preville, 474. 
 Prevost, 361, 441. 
 Prodigal, The, see Prodigo, II. 
 Prodigo, 11 (The Prodigal], 141- 
 
 142; 73, 347- 
 Prologo apologetico della vedova 
 
 scaitra, 188, 392-393. 
 Properzio, in The Contriving 
 
 Woman, 253. 
 Prudenzio, a name for II Dottore, 
 
 104. 
 Prudent Man, The, see Uomo pru- 
 
 dente, V. 
 
 Public Square, The, see Campiello, 
 
 Pulcinella, described, 107-108; 101, 
 102, 109, 113, 1 1 6, 219, 222. 
 
 Punch, a derivative of Pulcinella, 
 101. 
 
 Punctilious Ladies, The, see Fern- 
 mine puntigliose, Le. 
 
 Puntigli domestici, I (Domestic 
 Bickerings), described, 301; 200, 
 302. 
 
 Pupilla, La (The Ward), musical 
 interlude, 63 ; play in verse, 
 452-453- 
 
 Putta onorata, La (The Respecta- 
 ble Girl), described, 311-320; 
 150, 185, 188, 321, 376. 
 
 Putte di Castello, Le (Girls of the 
 Castle Quarter), 311. 
 
 Quattro rust eg hi, I, 339. 
 Querini, Angelo, 204, 406. 
 
 Rabany, Charles, 453, 505, 528, 587. 
 
 Racine, 136, 362, 440. 
 
 Radi, Francesco, 40, 41. 
 
 Raffi, Gasparo, 182. 
 
 Raffi, Lucia, 182, 183. 
 
 Raffi, Maddalena, 183, 200, 208, 
 
 293- 
 Raffi, Rosalina, see Arbes, Rosa- 
 
 lina D'. 
 Raffi, Teodora, see Medebac, Teo- 
 
 dora. 
 Rage for Country Life, The, see 
 
 Smanie della villeggiatura, Le. 
 Ralph Roister Doister, 114. 
 Rangoni, Marquis Bonifacio, 214. 
 Rangoni theatre, 400. 
 Raphael, 85. 
 
 Rasi, Luigi, 66, 165, 167, 183, 324. 
 Rattlepate, The, see Donna di testa 
 
 debole, La. 
 Re cervo, II, 421. 
 
 Reggio, G visits Paradisi in, 466. 
 Regnard^soo, 525. 
 Reni, Guido, 153. 
 Respectable Girl, The, see Putta 
 
 onorata, La. 
 Return from the Country, The, see 
 
 Ritorno dalla villeggiatura, II. 
 
INDEX 
 
 691 
 
 Riccardo, in The Boors, 331; in A 
 
 Curious Mishap, 377. 
 Ricco insidiato, II (The Harassed 
 
 Man of Wealth), 451. 
 Riccoboni, Francesco, 469. 
 Riccoboni, Luigi, 93, 95, 112, 362, 
 
 500. 
 
 Riccoboni, Marie Jeanne, 469, 582. 
 Richardson, Samuel, 122, 242, 361, 
 
 363-365, 376. 
 Richelieu, 98. 
 Ridolfo, in the bourgeois comedies, 
 
 276; in The Coffee-House, 277- 
 
 288. 
 
 Rimini, G in, 17, 78, 79, 80, 81, 122. 
 Rinaldo di Montalbano, 73. 
 Rinoceronte, 109. 
 Ripafratta, Cavaliere di, in The 
 
 Mistress of the Inn, 265. 
 Ripa Verde, Marchese di, in The 
 
 Respectable Girl, 313; in The 
 
 Good Wife, 320. 
 Ritorno dalla villeggiatura, II 
 
 (The Return from the Country}, 
 
 259, 450. 
 
 Roberti, Giambatista, 401-402. 
 Roberto, in The Discreet Wife, 
 
 250-251. 
 
 Robertson, Donald, 378. 
 Robespierre, 588. 
 Rocca Marina, II Conte di, in The 
 
 Fan, 511, 530. 
 Rodrigo, in The Cavalier and the 
 
 Lady, 241, 249. ^ 
 Rome, L'Arcadia in, 6 ; G's father 
 
 studies medicine in, 13; G in, 
 
 219-233. 
 
 Romana, La, 65. 
 
 Rosa, Salvator, 108, 109. 
 
 Rosalba, La, 7. 
 
 Rosamund, see Rosmondo. 
 
 Rosaura, in the improvised com- 
 edy, no; in The Artful Widow, 
 233-236; in The Sensible^ Wife, 
 253, 301 ; in the bourgeois com- 
 edies, 276; in The Fickle Wom- 
 &n, 293; in The Clever Woman, 
 303 ; in The Housekeeper, 306- 
 307; in The Military Lover, 
 384-385; in The Punctilious La- 
 dies, 552-559- 
 
 Rose, Madame La, in Marriage by 
 Competition, 515. 
 
 Rosetta, a name for Colombina, 
 109. 
 
 Rosina, in The New House, 343- 
 
 344- 
 
 Roslyn, 253. 
 Rosmondf (Rosamund"), G's play, 
 
 64-65 ; older play by Rucellai, 86. 
 Rossini, 105. 
 Rostand, Edmond, 452. 
 Rousseau, Jean-Baptiste, 159, 252. 
 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, anticipated 
 
 by G, 373; 481; in Paris, 562; 
 
 G visits, 563-565. 
 Rucellai, 86. 
 
 Ruggeri, Giovan Maria, 65. 
 Raggiratore, II (The Impostor), 
 
 described, 261-262; 302. 
 Rusteghi, I (The Boors), de- 
 scribed, 326-339; 228, 240, 341, 
 
 422, 457, 512, 531, 591. 
 Ruzzante, II, 172. 
 
 Sabbioneta, 98. 
 
 Sacchi, Antonio, 73, 125, 143, 163, 
 409, 416, 421, 506. 
 
 Sagredo, 203. 
 
 Salmon, Thomas, 441. 
 
 Salo, 50. 
 
 Salvioni, 10-11. 
 
 San Benedetto theatre, 174. 
 
 San Cassiano theatre, 196. 
 
 San Giovanni Crisostomo theatre, 
 *73, 174. 
 
 San Luca theatre, 174, 183, G in 
 service of, 206-229; actors of, 
 209-211; 311, 348, 349, 424. 
 
 San Moise theatre, 174, 182. 
 
 Sanniones, 105, 113. 
 
 San Samuele theatre, 62, 64, 183, 
 187, 39i, 394, 4i6, 421. 
 
 Sand, George, 545. 
 
 Sand, Maurice, no, 112. 
 
 Sant' Angelo, Castle of, 155. 
 
 Sant' Angelo theatre, Elisa pro- 
 duced at, 65; leased by Mede- 
 bac, 171; 173, 179; G playwright 
 for, 167-169, 182-198; rivals of, 
 182; D'Arbes leaves, 188; G's 
 last season at, 207-209. 
 
 Sarcey, Francisque, 380. 
 
 Sardpu, 347-34^, 513- 
 
 Saurin, 476. 
 
 Savi, Elena, 408, 501. 
 
692 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Sbocchia, in The Swindler, 383- 
 
 384. 
 
 Scacciati, 55, 57, 59, 61, 62. 
 
 Scala, Flamminio, 92. 
 
 Scamozzi, 98. 
 
 Scamp, The, see Birba f La. 
 
 Scapin, 106, 107, 435. 
 
 Scappino, 503. 
 
 Scaramouche, see also Scaramuc- 
 cia, 101, 108. 
 
 Scaramuccia, 101, 108, 119, 178. 
 
 Scherillo, Michele, 88-89. 
 
 Schiava Chinese, La (The Chinese 
 Slave), 396: 
 
 Schiller, 533. 
 
 Schlegel, 593. 
 
 School for Mothers, The, see Ecole 
 des meres, L'. 
 
 Sciugliaga, Stefano, 401, 491, 569. 
 
 Scoffer of Seville, The, see Burla- 
 dor de Sevilla, El. 
 
 Scotch Girl, The, see Scozzese, La, 
 and Ecossaise, L'. 
 
 Scozzese, La (The Scotch Girl), 
 378-382. 
 
 Scribe, 513. 
 
 Scuola delle vedove, La (The 
 School for Widows), 391-394, 
 187, 579. 
 
 Scuola di ballo, La (The Dancing 
 School), 452. 
 
 Secchella'ri, Giuseppe, 407. 
 
 Secchi, Niccolo, 92. 
 
 Seducteur, Le, 571. 
 
 Semiramis, 202. 
 
 Sendron, 109. 
 
 Seneca, 84. 
 
 Sens ale di matrimoni, II, 207. 
 
 Sensible Wife, The, see Moglie 
 saggia, La. 
 
 Serva amorosa, La (The Devoted 
 Servant), described, 306; 200, 
 203, 458. 
 
 Servant of Two Masters, The, see 
 Servitore di due padroni, II. 
 
 Servants, in The Maids-of- All- 
 Work, 457-458; in The Sensible 
 Wife, 458; in Hazards of Coun- 
 try Life, 458; in The Upper 
 Servant, 458; in The Devoted 
 Servant, 458; in The New 
 House, 458; G's injunction to, 
 458-459. 
 
 Servjftore di due padroni, II (The 
 
 Servant of Two Masters), de- 
 scribed, 142-143, 145; 102. 
 
 Sganarelle, 105, 106. 
 
 Shadwell, 547. 
 
 Shakespeare, 101, 114, 427, 439, 
 451, 510, 541. 
 
 Shaw, Bernard, 139. 
 
 Sibillone, 169. 
 
 Sienna, G in, 159. 
 
 Silvio, in improvised comedy, 119; 
 in The Love of the Three 
 Oranges, 417. 
 
 Simon, in The Boors, 326, 328-330, 
 332-336. ^ 
 
 Simone, Giovanni, 224. 
 
 Singer, The, see Cantatrice, La. 
 
 Sior Maschera, 231. 
 
 Sior Todero Brontalon (Master 
 Theodore the Grumbler), de- 
 scribed, 340-341. 
 
 Sixtus IV, 98. 
 
 Smanie della villeggiatura, Le 
 (The Rage for Country Life), 
 258. 
 
 Smart Women, The, see Femmine 
 puntigliose, Le. 
 
 Smeraldina, a name for Colom- 
 bina, 109, 415; in The Man of 
 the World, 140; in The Love of 
 the Three Oranges, 417. 
 
 Smith, Winifred, 91, 100, 104, no, 
 112, 115. 
 
 Sneezing of Hercules, The, see 
 Starnuto di Ercole, Lo. 
 
 Sophie, Princess, 492. 
 
 Spain, Italian mask actors in, 114. 
 
 Spavento, 108. 
 
 Spezzaferro, 109. 
 
 Spinelli, Adolfo, 191. 
 
 Spinelli, Alessandro G., 10, n, 33, 
 190, 191, 212, 482. 
 
 Spirito di contraddizione, Lo (The 
 Spirit of Contradiction), 451. 
 
 Spirit of Contradiction, The, see 
 Spirito di contraddizione, Lo. 
 
 Sposa persiana, La (The Persian 
 Bride), described, 441-443; 209, 
 359, 395- 
 
 Sposa sagace, La (The Artful 
 Bride-Elect), 240, 451. 
 
 Stael, Madame de, 440. 
 
 Starnuto di Ercole, Lo (The Sneez- 
 ing of Hercules), 31. 
 
 Statira, 137. 
 
INDEX 
 
 693 
 
 Stentorello, 109. 
 
 Stoppino, Fra, 97. 
 
 Stryienski, Casirair, 488. 
 
 Sugana, Luigi, 296. 
 
 Supplica, La, 96. 
 
 Suppositi, I (The Disguised] , 90. 
 
 Suzanne, in improvised comedy, 
 
 109. 
 
 Swindler, The, see Impostore, L'. 
 Sylvestre, Madame, 483. 
 Symonds, John Addington, 112, 
 
 403, 412, 416. 
 
 Talismano, II, 561. 
 
 Tancrede, 203. 
 
 Tarsense, Aurisbe, 466-467. 
 
 Tartaglia, 108, 415, in The Love 
 
 of the Three Oranges, 417. 
 Tartana, La (The Tartan], 408- 
 
 410. 
 Tartuffe, Le (The Hypocrite], 544, 
 
 555- 
 
 Tasso, of Goethe, 440. 
 Tasso, Torquato, 86. 
 Tasso, II Torquato, 436-440. 
 Tassoni, Alessandro, 96. 
 Tavola rotonda, La, 410. 
 Teatro comico, II (The Comic 
 
 Theatre], described, 192-195; 
 
 117, 129, 143, 226, 433, 509, 541, 
 
 543- 
 Teatro comico all' Osteria de Pel- 
 
 legrino (The Comic Theatre at 
 
 the Pilgrim's Inn], 411-412. 
 Teatro Olimpico, 98, 173. 
 Teatro San Luca, see San Luca 
 
 theatre. 
 Teatro San Samuele, see San Sam- 
 
 uele theatre. 
 Teatro Sant' Angelo, see Sant' An- 
 
 gelo theatre. 
 Terence, 86, 119, 132. 
 Terence, see Terenzio, II. 
 Terenzio, II (Terence], described, 
 
 433-436; 430. 
 
 Texas, The University of, 511. 
 Thamas, in The Persian Bride, 
 
 442-443. 
 
 Thayer, William Roscoe, 153, 429. 
 Theatre Favart, 102, 561. 
 Theatre Frangais, see also Come- 
 
 die Franchise, 504. 
 Theatre Guenegaud, 499. 
 
 Theatres, modern type of, origi- 
 nates in Italy, 98; in other coun- 
 tries, 98-99. 
 
 Theodore (Todero), in Master 
 Theodore the Grumbler, 340-341. 
 
 Tiepolo, Chevalier, 480. 
 
 Tiepolo, Nicolo Maria, 7, 125, 205. 
 
 Titta-Nane, in The Chioggian 
 Brawls, 350-356. 
 
 Toffali, Chevalier, 589. 
 
 Toffalo, in The Chioggian Brawls, 
 35o-35.i 356. 
 
 Tomio, in Tasso, 438. 
 
 Tonin bella grazia (Elegant An- 
 thony], 149, 166, 167, 391. 
 
 Tordinona theatre, 219, 221-222. 
 
 Torquato Tasso, II (Tasso], de- 
 scribed, 436-440; 204, 430, 433. 
 
 Torre, 578. 
 
 Torre, A. Delia, 14. 
 
 Torrismondo, 86. 
 
 Tragedy, Bourgeois, 362. 
 
 Trentadue disgrazie d'Arlecchino, 
 Le (Harlequin's Thirty-Two 
 Misfortunes], described, 142; 73. 
 
 Trevisan, 172. 
 
 Trieste, G in, 31. 
 
 Tripoli, 517. 
 
 Trissino, 84, 86. 
 
 Trissino, Count, 50. 
 
 Trissotin, 152. 
 
 Tristan, 86. 
 
 Trivellino, 105, 109. 
 
 Tron, Caterina Dolfin, 404. 
 
 Tronchin, Doctor, 567. 
 
 True Friend, The, see Vero amico, 
 
 Truffaldino, a name for Arlec- 
 chino, 105, 109, 415; in The 
 Servant of Two Masters, 143; 
 in The Man of the World, 140; 
 in The Bankruptcy, 145 ; in The 
 Love of the Three Oranges, 417; 
 in The Jovial Men, 509. 
 
 Turendot, 421. 
 
 Turin, G in, 199, 537. 
 
 Tuscany, G in, 81, 152. 
 
 Ubaldo, a derivative of Panta- 
 
 lone, 103. 
 Udall, 114. 
 
 Udine, G in, 29, 65-67. 
 Ulisse il Giovane, 178. 
 
694 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Una delle ult'ime sere di carnovale 
 
 (One of the Last Evenings of 
 
 the Carnival), 424-426. 
 United States, see America. 
 University of Chicago, The, 5x1. 
 University of Texas, The, 511. 
 Unknown, The, see Incognita, L'. 
 Uomo di mondo, L' (The Man of 
 
 the World], described, 138; 73, 
 
 146, 147, 509. 
 Uomo prudente, V (The Prudent 
 
 Man], 149, 184, 240, 274, 303, 
 
 391- 
 Upper Servant, The, see Donna di 
 
 governo, La. 
 Useless Memoirs (Memorie inu- 
 
 tili), 404-405, 408, 416. 
 
 Vadius, 152. 
 
 Valere, in The Beneficent Bear, 
 520; in // Moliere, 544. 
 
 Valerini, Adriano, 95. 
 
 Vanbrugh, Irene, 268. 
 
 Van der Duyn, Baron, 572. 
 
 Van Goens, Michel, 537. 
 
 Vatican, The, 99. 
 
 Vecchio bizarro, II (The Whimsi- 
 cal Old Man), 215, 273, 454, 455, 
 478, 53i. 
 
 Vedova scaltra, La (The Artful 
 Widow), described, 233; 150, 
 170, 185, 187, 391, 393, 397- 
 
 Vedova Spiritosa, La (The Witty 
 Widow), 220, 451. 
 
 Vendetta amorosa, La, 396. 
 
 Vendramin, Antonio, 206, 207, 210- 
 
 211. 
 
 Vendramin, Francesco, 206; exe- 
 cutes contract with G, 207, 211; 
 writes G, 223-228; asks G to 
 return to Venice, 482-483; slow 
 with G's royalties, 491 ; G sends 
 play to, 513. 
 
 Venetian Gondolier, The, see Gon- 
 doliere veneziano, 11. 
 
 Venetian Twins, The, see Due 
 gemelli veneziani, I. 
 
 Venice, G's statue in, 3, 7; G born 
 in, 3, 8 ; condition of, in eight- 
 eenth century, 4; writers and 
 painters in, 7; G's family re- 
 moves to, 9; G's family in, 13, 
 15, 16, 21 ; G in uncle's law 
 
 office in, 21 ; theatres of, cure G 
 of religious fervour, 34; G ad- 
 mitted to bar in, 42 ; wins law 
 suit, 46-47; G flees from, 49; 
 G with Imer in, 64; G's first 
 plays in, 64-65 ; brings bride to, 
 72; four years in, 73; consul for 
 Genoa in, 74; comedy masks in, 
 102, 107; play-houses of, 173- 
 174; theatrical customs, 174-177; 
 improvised comedy, 177-178; G 
 at Sant' Angelo theatre, 181-201; 
 G in society of, 203-205; G at 
 San Luca theatre, 206-229; de- 
 scribed, 230-233; cicisbeism, 237- 
 264; villeggiatura, 253-264; 
 gambling, 287; printing and 
 bookselling, 390; Chiaristas and 
 Goldonistas, 397; growing free- 
 dom of thought in, 406 ; G's fare- 
 well to, 423-426; G writes plays 
 for, 480, 505; their reception, 
 506; difficulties of dialect of, 592. 
 
 Venier, Maria, 410. 
 
 Ventaglio, II (The Fan), de- 
 scribed, 5"-5i3; 5i6, 517. 
 
 Vero amico, II (The True Friend), 
 ", 475, 549- 
 
 Verona, G in, 50, 62. 
 
 Veronese, Camilla, 469, 478, 501. 
 
 Verri, Pietro, 402, 586. 
 
 Verrier, Charles, 269. 
 
 Versailles, G in, 484, 486; G 
 leaves, 491. 
 
 Versailles Impromptu, The, 194, 
 54i, 543- 
 
 Versi sdruccioli, 453. 
 
 Viaggiatori ridicoli, I, 218. 
 
 Vicenza, G in, 50; Teatro Olimp- 
 ico in, 98, 173. 
 
 Vicini, E. P., u. 
 
 Vicini, Giovanni Battista, 33, 399. 
 
 Victoire, Princess, 492. 
 
 Vienna, 483, 505. 
 
 Vigee, 571. 
 
 Villars, 56. 
 
 Villeggiatura, La (The House 
 Party), described, 253-261; 240, 
 
 347- 
 
 Villejuif, G in, 468. 
 
 Virginia, in The Cavalier and the 
 Lady, 245, 246. 
 
 Vitalba, 68, 69, 547. 
 
 Vitali, Buonafede (The Anony- 
 mous), 54-55. 
 
INDEX 
 
 695 
 
 Vittoria, in the villeggiatura plays, 
 260, 261. 
 
 Vivaldi, 65. 
 
 Volponi, I, 561. 
 
 Voltaire, G unacquainted with 
 Paris of, 122; hears of G 
 through Albergati, 202; crowns 
 Madame du Boccage, 218; 
 praises G's The Liar, 292; pre- 
 sents Nanine, 361; Nanine, 374; 
 L'Ecossaise, 378-381; three ver- 
 sions of play in Venice, 396; 
 deism of, in Venice, 405-406; his 
 verses to G, 414; foe of Gozzi, 
 422 ; approves G's works, 465 ; 
 
 Paradisi translates tragedies of, 
 466; in Switzerland, 481; gives 
 books to G, 496; "The Moliere 
 of Italy," 533-538; estimate of 
 G, 534-538; G visits, 566-569; 
 characterization of G, 594. 
 
 Volterra, G in, 160. 
 
 W 
 
 Wagner, 421. 
 
 Walpole, Horace, 479. 
 
 Wanton Day, The, see Folle jour- 
 nee, La. 
 
 War, see Guerra, La. 
 
 War of the Austrian Succession, 74. 
 
 War of the Polish Succession, 56, 
 57, 58, 60. 
 
 War, The Seven Years', 465. 
 
 Ward, The, see Pupilla, La. 
 
 Watteau, 258. 
 
 Weimar, 440. 
 
 Whimsical Old Man, The, see 
 Vecchio bizzarro, II. 
 
 Widiman, Count Lodovico, 216- 
 217. 
 
 Widow, The Artful, see Vedova 
 scaltra, La. 
 
 Widow, The Witty, see Vedova 
 spiritosa, La. 
 
 Wippach, G in, 31. 
 
 Witty Cavalier, The, see Cavalier 
 
 di spirito, II. 
 Witty Widow, The, see Vedova 
 
 spiritosa, La. 
 
 Wolf-Ferrari, Ermanno, 296, 339. 
 Women on the stage, 99-100. 
 Women's Tittle-Tattle, see Pette- 
 
 golezzi delle donne, I. 
 
 Yale Dramatic Association, 513. 
 
 Yale University, 511. 
 
 Young Countess, The, see Contes- 
 
 sina, La. 
 Young, Stark, 511. 
 
 Zanetto, in The Jovial Women, 
 
 461. 
 
 Zanni, described, 105-107, in. 
 Zanuzzi, Francesco Antonio, 464, 
 
 468, 501. 
 Zara, G in, 34. 
 Zatto, Andrea del, 7. 
 Zeim, 421. 
 
 Zelia, in The Peruvian Girl, 441. 
 Zelinda, in the Lindoro plays, 507- 
 
 508. 
 Zelinda and Lindoro's Love, see 
 
 Amore di Zelinda e Lindoro, Gli. 
 Zelinda's Tribulations, see Inquie- 
 
 tudini di Zelinda, Le. 
 Zeno, Apostolo, 7, 65, 136, 137, 173, 
 
 291. 
 
 Zeno, Marco, 496. 
 Zibaldone, 94, 190, 581. 
 Zimmern, Helen, 511. 
 Zobeide, 421. 
 Zola, near Bologna, 202. 
 Zorzetto, in The Public Square, 
 
 462-463- 
 
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