Corinne, Volume 1 (of 2)
Chapter ii.
"You will at least confess," replied the Count d'Erfeuil, "that there isone part of literature in which we have nothing to learn of anycountry.--Our drama is decidedly the first in Europe; for I cannotbelieve that the English would presume to oppose their Shakespeare tous."--"I beg your pardon," interrupted Mr Edgermond, "they have thatpresumption."--And after this observation he was silent.--"In that caseI have nothing to say," continued the Count, with a smile whichexpressed a kind of civil contempt: "Each one may think as he pleases,but for my part I persist in believing that we may affirm withoutpresumption that we are the very first in dramatic art. As to theItalians, if I may speak my mind freely, they do not appear even tosuspect that there is a dramatic art in the world.--With them the musicis every thing, and the play itself nothing. Should the music of thesecond act of a piece be better than the first, they begin with thesecond act. Or, should a similar preference attach to the first acts oftwo different pieces, they will perform these two acts in the sameevening, introducing between, perhaps, an act of some comedy in prosethat contains irreproachable morality, but a moral teaching entirelycomposed of aphorisms, that even our ancestors have already cast off tothe foreigner as too old to be of any service to them. Your poets areentirely at the disposal of your famous musicians; one declares that hecannot sing without there is in his air the word _felicita_; the tenormust have _tomba_; while a third singer can only quaver upon the word_catene_. The poor bard must make these different whims agree withdramatic situation as well as he can. This is not all; there are actorswho will not appear immediately treading the boards of the stage; theymust first be seen in a cloud, or they must descend the lofty stairs ofa palace, in order to give more effect to their _entree_. When the airis finished, whatever may be the violent or affecting situation of hischaracter, the singer must bow to the audience in acknowledgment oftheir applause. The other day, in Semiramis, after the spectre of Ninushad sung his air, the representative of this shadowy personage made inhis ghostly costume a low reverence to the pit, which greatly diminishedthe terror of the apparition.
"They are accustomed in Italy to consider the theatre merely as a largeassembly room, where there is nothing to hear but the airs, and theballet! I am justified in saying _that they listen to nothing but theballet_; for it is only when the ballet is about to begin, that silenceis called for in the pit: and what is this ballet but a masterpiece ofbad taste? There is nothing amusing in the dancing save the comic partof it; the grotesque figures alone afford entertainment, being indeed agood specimen of caricature. I have seen Gengis-Kan in a ballet, allcovered with ermine, and full of fine sentiments; for he ceded his crownto the child of a king whom he had conquered, and lifted him up in theair upon one foot; a new mode of establishing a monarch upon his throne.I have also seen the sacrifice of Curtius formed into a ballet of threeacts, with divertisements. Curtius, in the dress of an Arcadianshepherd, danced for a considerable time with his mistress; thenmounting a real horse in the middle of the stage, he plunged into thegulf of fire, made of yellow satin and gilt paper, which looked morelike a fancy riding habit than an abyss. In fact, I have seen the wholeof Roman history from Romulus to Caesar, compressed into a ballet."
"What you say is true," replied Prince Castel-Forte, mildly; "but youhave only spoken of music and dancing, which do not comprise what weunderstand by the drama of any country." "It is much worse," interruptedthe Count d'Erfeuil, "when tragedies are represented, or dramas that arenot termed _dramas that end happily_: they unite more horrors in thecourse of five acts, than the imagination could form a picture of. Inone piece of this kind, the lover kills the brother of his mistress inthe second act; in the third he blows out the brains of his mistressherself upon the stage; her funeral occupies the fourth; in theinterval, between the fourth and fifth acts, the actor who performs thelover comes forward, and announces to the audience with the greatesttranquillity in the world, the harlequinades which are to be performedon the following evening; he then reappears in the fifth act, to shoothimself with a pistol. The tragic actors are quite in harmony with thecoldness and extravagance of these pieces: they commit all these horrorswith the utmost calm. When a performer uses much action, they say heconducts himself like a preacher; for in truth, there is more acting inthe pulpit than on the stage. It is very fortunate that these actors areso moderate in their pathos; for as there is nothing interesting, eitherin the piece or its situations, the more noise they made about it, themore ridiculous they would appear: it might still be endurable, werethere any thing gay in this nonsense; but it is most stupidly dull andmonotonous. There is in Italy no more comedy than tragedy; and hereagain we stand foremost. The only species of comedy peculiar to Italy isharlequinade. A valet, at once a knave, a glutton, and a coward; an oldgriping, amorous dupe of a guardian, compose the whole strength of thesepieces. I hope you will allow that _Tartuffe_, and the _Misanthrope_,require a little more genius than such compositions."
This attack of the Count d' Erfeuil was sufficiently displeasing to theItalians who were his auditors; nevertheless they laughed at it. TheCount was more desirous of showing his wit than his natural goodness ofdisposition; for though this latter quality influenced his actions,self-love guided his speech. Prince Castel-Forte and the rest of hiscountrymen present, were extremely impatient to refute the Countd'Erfeuil; but as they were little ambitious of shining in conversationand believed their cause would be more ably defended by Corinne, theybesought her to reply, contenting themselves with barely citing thecelebrated names of Maffei, Metastasio, Goldoni, Alfieri, and Monti.Corinne began by granting that the Italians had no drama; but sheundertook to prove that circumstances and not want of talent, were thecause of it. Comedy, which depends upon the observation of manners, canonly exist in a country where we live in the midst of a numerous andbrilliant society. In Italy we meet with nothing but violent passions oridle enjoyments which produce crimes of so black a hue that no shades ofcharacter can be distinguished. But ideal comedy, if it may be sotermed, that which depends upon the imagination, and may agree with alltimes and all countries, owes its invention to Italy. Harlequin,punchinello, pantaloon, &c., have the same character in every differentpiece. In all cases they exhibit masks, and not faces: that is to say,their physiognomy is that of some particular species of character, andnot that of any individual. Undoubtedly, the modern authors ofharlequinades, finding every part ready carved out for them like the menof a chess-board, have not the merit of inventing them; but their firstinvention is due to Italy; therefore these fantastic personages, whichfrom one end of Europe to the other afford amusement to every child, andto every grown-up person whom imagination has made childlike, mustcertainly be considered as the creation of Italians: this I shouldconceive ought to give them some claim to the art of comedy.
The observation of the human heart is an inexhaustible source ofliterature; but nations more disposed to poetry than to reflection, moreeasily surrender themselves to the intoxication of joy than tophilosophic irony. That pleasantry which is founded upon the knowledgeof mankind has something sad at bottom. It is only the gaiety of theimagination which is truly inoffensive. It is not that the Italians donot study deeply the men whom they have to do with; for none discovermore subtly their secret thoughts; but they employ this talent as aguide of conduct, and have no idea of converting it to any literarypurpose. Perhaps even they have no wish to generalise their discoveries,and publish their perceptions. There is a prudent dissimulation in theircharacter, which teaches them not to expose in comedies that whichaffords rules for private intercourse; not to reveal by the fictions ofthe mind what may be useful in circumstances of real life.
Macchiavelli however, far from concealing anything, has exposed all thesecrets of a criminal polity; and through him we may learn of what aterrible knowledge of the human heart the Italians are capable. Butprofound observation is not the province of comedy: the leisure ofsociety, properly speaking, can alone furnish matter for the comicscene. Goldoni, who lived at Venice,
where there is more society than inany other Italian city, has introduced more refinement of observationinto his pieces than is generally to be found in other authors.Nevertheless his comedies are monotonous, and we meet with the samesituations in them, because they contain so little variety of character.His numerous pieces seem formed upon the general model of dramaticworks, and not copied from real life. The true character of Italiangaiety is not satire, but imagination; not delineation of manners, butpoetical exaggeration. It is Ariosto, and not Moliere, who can amuseItaly.
Gozzi, the rival of Goldoni, has more originality in his compositions;they bear less resemblance to regular comedy. His determination wasliberally to indulge the Italian genius; to represent fairy tales, andmingle buffoonery and harlequinade with the marvels of poetry; toimitate nothing in nature, but to give free scope to the gay illusionsof fancy, to the chimeras of fairy magic, and to transport the mind byevery means beyond the boundaries of human action. He was crowned withprodigious success in his time, and perhaps there never existed anauthor more congenial to an Italian imagination; but to know withcertainty what degree of perfection Tragedy and Comedy can reach inItaly, it should possess a theatrical establishment. The multitude oflittle cities who all wish to have a theatre, lose, by dispersing them,its dramatic resources: that division in states, in general sofavourable to liberty and happiness, is hurtful to Italy. She must needsconcentrate her light and power to resist the prejudices which aredevouring her. The authority of governments often represses individualenergy. In Italy this authority would be a benefit if it struggledagainst the ignorance of separate states and of men isolated among them;if it combated by emulation that indolence so natural to the climate;and if, in a word, it gave life to the whole of this nation which now issatisfied with a dream.
These ideas, and several others besides, were ingeniously developed byCorinne. She well understood the rapid art of light conversation, whichdoes not dogmatically insist upon any thing, and also that pleasingaddress which gives a consideration to each of the company in turn,though she often indulged in that kind of talent which rendered her acelebrated improvisatrice. Several times she intreated PrinceCastel-Forte to assist her with his opinion on the same subject; but shespoke so well herself, that all the audience were delighted in listeningto her, and would not suffer her to be interrupted. Mr Edgermond, inparticular, could scarcely satisfy himself with seeing and hearingCorinne; hardly did he dare to express the admiration she inspired himwith, and he pronounced some words of panegyric in a low tone of voicehoping she would comprehend them without obliging him to address herpersonally. He however possessed such a lively desire to know hersentiments on Tragedy, that in spite of his timidity he ventured a fewwords on that subject.
"Madam," said he to Corinne, "where the Italian literature appears to memost defective is in Tragedy; methinks the distance is not so greatbetween infancy and manhood, as between your Tragedies and ours; for inthe changeableness of children may be discovered true if not deepsentiments, but there is something affected and extravagant in ItalianTragedy, which destroys for me all emotion whatever. Is this not so?Lord Nelville," continued Mr Edgermond, turning to his lordship andinviting his support by a glance, quite astonished at having foundcourage to speak in such a numerous assembly.
"I am entirely of your opinion," answered Oswald; "Metastasio, who isvauntingly called the poet of love, gives the same colouring to thispassion in every country and under every circumstance. His admirableairs are entitled to our applause as much from their grace and harmonyas the lyrical beauties which they contain, especially when detachedfrom the drama in which they are placed; but it is impossible for us whopossess Shakespeare, who has most deeply fathomed History and thepassions of man, to suffer those amorous couples, that divide betweenthem almost all the pieces of Metastasio alike, under the names ofAchilles, of Tircis, of Brutus, and of Corilas, singing, in a mannerthat hardly touches the surface of the soul, the grief and sufferings oflove, so as almost to reduce to imbecility the noblest passion thatanimates the human heart. It is with the most profound respect for thecharacter of Alfieri that I shall indulge in a few reflections upon hispieces. Their aim is so noble, the sentiments which the author expressesare so much in unison with his personal conduct, that his tragedies mustalways deserve praise as actions, even when they are criticised asliterary performances. But I find in the vigour of some of his tragediesas much monotony as in the tenderness of Metastasio. There is, in theplays of Alfieri, such a profusion of energy and magnanimity, or rathersuch an exaggeration of violence and crime, that it is impossible todiscover in them the true characters of men. They are never so wickednor so generous as painted by this author. The aim of most of his scenesis to place virtue and vice in contrast with each other; but theseoppositions are not according to the gradations of truth. If, duringtheir life, tyrants bore with what the oppressed are made to say totheir face in the tragedies of Alfieri, one would be almost tempted topity them. His play of Octavia is one of those where the want ofprobability is most striking. In this piece, Seneca moralisesincessantly with Nero, as if the latter were the most patient of men,and Seneca the most courageous. The master of the world permits himselfto be insulted, and his anger to be excited in every scene, for theamusement of the spectators, as if it were not in his power to end itall with a word. Certainly these continual dialogues give rise to somevery fine replies on the part of Seneca, and one would be glad to findin an harangue or in a moral work the noble thoughts which he expresses;but is this the way to give us an idea of tyranny? It is not painting itin its formidable colours, but merely making it a subject for verbalfencing. If Shakespeare had represented Nero surrounded by tremblingslaves, who hardly dared reply to the most indifferent question,himself concealing his internal agitation and endeavouring to appearcalm, with Seneca near him writing the apology for the murder ofAgrippina, would not the terror have been a thousand times greater? Andfor one reflection spoken by the author, would not a thousand begenerated in the soul of the spectators by the very silence of rhetoricand the truth of the picture?"
Oswald might have spoken much longer without receiving any interruptionfrom Corinne; so much pleasure did she receive from the sound of hisvoice and the noble elegance of his language, that she could have wishedto prolong this impression for hours together. Hardly could she removeher eyes, which were earnestly fixed upon him, even after he had ceasedto speak. She turned them reluctantly to the rest of the company, whowere impatient to hear her thoughts upon Italian tragedy, and turning toLord Nelville:--"My Lord," said she, "it is not to combat yoursentiments that I reply, for they meet mine in almost every point: myonly intention is to offer some exceptions to your rather too generalobservations. It is true that Metastasio is rather a lyrical than adramatic poet, and that he describes love like one of the fine arts thatadorn life, not as the most important secret of our happiness and ourpain. I will venture to say, notwithstanding our language has beenconsecrated to the cause of love, that we have more profoundness andsensibility in describing any other passion than this. The practice ofmaking amorous verses has created a kind of commonplace language amongstus for that subject; so that not what he has felt, but what he has read,inspires the poet. Love, such as it exists in Italy, by no meansresembles that love which is described by our writers. It is only inBoccacio's romance of _Fiametta_, that according to the best of myrecollection, there is to be found an idea of that passion, painted intruly national colours. Our poets subtilise and exaggerate thesentiment, whilst agreeably to the real Italian character, it is a rapidand profound impression, which rather expresses itself by silent andpassionate actions than by ingenious language. In general our literatureis not characteristic of our national manners[23]. We are much toomodest, I had almost said too humble a nation to aspire to tragediestaken from our own history, and bearing the stamp of our own sentiments.
"Alfieri, by a singular chance, was transplanted, if I may use theexpression, from ancient to modern times; he was born for action, andhis destiny onl
y permitted him to write; this constraint appears in thestyle of his tragedies. He wished to make literature subservient to apolitical purpose; undoubtedly his object was noble, but nothingperverts the labours of the imagination so much as having a purpose. Inthis nation, where certainly, some erudite scholars and very enlightenedmen are to be met with, Alfieri was indignant at seeing literatureconsecrated to no serious end, but merely engrossed with tales, novels,and madrigals. Alfieri wished to give a more austere character to histragedy. He has stript it of all the borrowed appendages of theatricaleffect, preserving nothing but the interest of the dialogue. It appearsto have been his wish to place the natural vivacity and imagination ofthe Italians in a state of penitence; he has however been very muchadmired for his character and the energies of his soul, which were trulygreat. The inhabitants of modern Rome are particularly given to applaudthe actions and sentiments of their ancient country; as if those actionsand sentiments had any relation to them in their present state.
They are amateurs of energy and independence, in the same manner asthey are of the fine pictures which adorn their galleries. But it is notless true that Alfieri has by no means created what may be called anItalian theatre; that is to say, tragedies of a merit peculiar to Italy.He has not even characterised the manners of those countries and thosecenturies which he has painted. His conspiracy of the Pazzi, hisVirginia, and his Philip II., are to be admired for elevation andstrength of thought; but it is always the character of Alfieri, and notthat of peculiar nations and peculiar times, which are to be discoveredin them. Although there be no analogy between the French genius and thatof Alfieri, they resemble each other in this, that both of them givetheir own colouring to every subject of which they treat."
The Count d' Erfeuil, hearing the French genius called in question, wasinduced to speak. "It would be impossible for us," said he, "to tolerateupon the stage either the incongruities of the Greeks or themonstrosities of Shakespeare; the French have too pure a taste for that.Our theatre is the model of delicacy and elegance: those are itsdistinguishing characteristics, and we should plunge ourselves intobarbarism by introducing anything foreign amongst us."
"That would be like encompassing yourselves with the great wall ofChina," said Corinne, smiling. "There are certainly many rare beautiesin your tragic authors; and perhaps they would admit of new ones, couldyou bring yourselves to tolerate anything not exactly French on yourstage. But as for us Italians, our dramatic genius would be greatlydiminished in submitting to the fetters of those laws which we had notthe honour of inventing, and from which, consequently, we could derivenothing but their restraint. A theatre ought to be formed upon theimagination, the character, and the custom of a nation. The Italians arepassionately fond of the fine arts, of music, painting, and evenpantomime: of every thing, in short, that strikes the senses. How thencould they be satisfied with the austerity of an eloquent dialogue, astheir only theatrical pleasure?[24] Vainly has Alfieri, with all hisgenius, endeavoured to reduce them to it; he felt himself that hissystem was too rigorous.
"The Merope of Maffei, the Saul of Alfieri, the Aristodemus of Monti,and particularly the poem of Dante, although this last author nevercomposed a tragedy, seem calculated to convey an idea of what thedramatic art might be brought to in Italy. There is in the Merope ofMaffei, a great simplicity of action, but the most brilliant poetry,adorned with the happiest images: and why should this poetry beforbidden in dramatic works? The language of poetry is so magnificent inItaly that we should be more censurable than any other nation inrenouncing its beauties. Alfieri, wishing to excel in every departmentof poetry, has, in his Saul, made a most beautiful use of the lyric; andone might with excellent effect introduce music itself into the piece,not so much to harmonise the words, as to calm the frenzy of Saul by theharp of David. So delicious is our music that it may even render usindolent as to intellectual enjoyments. Far therefore from wishing toseparate music from the drama, it should be our earnest endeavour tounite them; not in making heroes sing, which destroys all dramaticeffect, but in introducing choruses, as the ancients did, or such othermusical aid, as may naturally blend with the situations of the piece, asso often happens in real life. So far from retrenching the pleasures ofthe imagination on the Italian stage, it is my opinion, that we shouldon the contrary augment and multiply them in every possible manner. Theexquisite taste of the Italians for music, and for splendid ballets, isan indication of the power of their imagination, and manifests thenecessity of rendering even the most serious subjects interesting tothem, instead of heightening their severity as Alfieri has done. Thenation conceive it their duty to applaud what is grave and austere; butthey soon return to their natural taste; however, tragedy might becomehighly pleasing to them if it were embellished by the charm and thevariety of different kinds of poetry, and with all the divers theatricalattractions which the English and the Spaniards enjoy.
"The Aristodemus of Monti has in it something of the terrible pathos ofDante; and surely this tragedy is very justly one of the most admired.Dante, that great master of various powers, possessed that kind oftragic genius which would have produced the most effect in Italy, if itcould in any way be adapted to the stage; for that poet knew how torepresent to the eye, what was passing at the bottom of the soul, andhis imagination could make grief seen and felt. If Dante had writtentragedies, they would have been as striking to children as to men, tothe illiterate crowd as to the polished few. Dramatic literature oughtto be popular; like some public event, the whole nation ought to judgeof it."
"When Dante was living," said Oswald, "the Italians performed adistinguished part in the political drama of Europe. Perhaps it wouldnow be impossible for you to have a national tragic theatre: it would benecessary for the existence of such a theatre, that great events shoulddevelop in life those sentiments which are expressed upon the stage. Ofall the masterpieces of literature, there is not one which depends somuch upon the whole people as tragedy; the spectators contribute to itas much as the author. Dramatic genius is composed of the public mind,of History, of government, of national customs, of everything, in fact,which each day blends itself with thought, and forms the moral being, asthe air which we breathe nourishes physical existence. The Spaniards,with whom you have some affinity as to climate and religion, are muchsuperior to you in dramatic genius; their pieces are filled with theirhistory, their chivalry, and their religious faith, and these piecespossess life and originality; but their success, in this respect, datesback to the epoch of their historical glory. How then could it bepossible now to establish in Italy, that which it never could boastof--a genuine tragic drama!"
"It is unfortunately possible that you may be in the right," repliedCorinne; "however, I hope for greater things from the natural impulse ofmind in Italy, and from the individual emulation of my countrymen, evenwhen not favoured by external circumstances; but what we most want intragedy is actors. Affected words necessarily lead to false declamation;but there is no language in which an actor can display so much talent asin ours; for the melody of sound gives a new charm to truth of accent:it is a continual music which mingles with the expression of feelingwithout diminishing its vigour." "If you wish," interrupted PrinceCastel-Forte, "to convince the company of what you assert, it onlyremains for you to prove it: yes, allow us to enjoy the inexpressiblepleasure of seeing you perform tragedy; you must grant these foreigngentlemen the rare enjoyment of being made acquainted with a talentwhich you alone in Italy possess; or rather that you alone in the worldpossess, since the whole of your genius is impressed upon it."
Corinne felt a secret desire to play tragedy before Lord Nelville, andby this means show herself to very great advantage; but she dared notaccede to the proposal of Prince Castel-Forte, without that approbationof Oswald, which the looks she cast upon him earnestly entreated. Heunderstood them; and as he was at the same time concerned at thattimidity which had the day before prevented the exertion of her talentfor improvisation, and ambitious that she should obtain the applause ofMr Edgermond, he
joined in the solicitations of her friends. Corinnetherefore no longer hesitated. "Well, then," said she, turning to PrinceCastel-Forte, "we will accomplish the project which I have so longformed, of playing my own translation of Romeo and Juliet,""Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet?" cried Mr Edgermond; "you understandEnglish, then?" "Yes," answered Corinne. "And you are fond ofShakespeare!" added Mr Edgermond. "As a friend," replied she; "he was sowell acquainted with all the secrets of grief." "And you will perform inItalian," cried Mr Edgermond; "and I shall hear you! And you too, mydear Nelville. Ah, how happy you will be!" Then, repenting immediatelythis indiscreet word, he blushed: and a blush inspired by delicacy andgoodness may be interesting at all periods of life. "How happy we shallbe," resumed he, a little embarrassed, "to be present at such arepresentation!"
FOOTNOTES:
[23] Giovanni Pindemonte, has recently published a collection of Dramas,the subjects of which are taken from Italian history, and this is a veryinteresting and praiseworthy enterprize. The name of Pindemonte is alsorendered illustrious by Hippolito Pindemonte, one of the sweetest andmost charming of the present Italian poets.
[24] The posthumous works of Alfieri are just published, in which are tobe found many exquisite pieces; but we may conclude from a rathersingular Dramatic Essay, which he has written on the Death of Abel, thathe himself was conscious that his pieces were too austere, and that onthe stage more must be allowed to the pleasures of the imagination.