Prologue. If you are disposed to observe our rules, I will gladly exert myself on your behalf.
Spaniard. What are the rules?
Prologue. Few and simple. To seek knowledge and wisdom: to take the world as it comes: to be the affectionate and devoted slave of these ladies: and, for the love of them, to make now and then a comedy, or some other work, to show our implicit submission.
Spaniard. These rules are greatly to my mind; and if I can obtain the favour of being placed in the academy, I will most faithfully observe them all.
Renouard in the Bibliothèque d’un Amateur (Paris, 1819, tome iii. pp. 109 — 119), gives a list of Italian dramas in his possession, which e introduces with the following notice: —
“Le XVIe siècle produisit une multitude innombrable de pièces dramatiques italiennes, qui actuellement se lisent peu: beaucoup d’entre elles continuent cependant à être recherchées des Italiens, soit pour la pureté du style, qualité par laquelle beaucoup se distinguent, soit même pour leur bizarrerie, et souvent pour la seule rareté des exemplaires. Ne voulant point ici faire collection de ce genre de pièces, on a seulement choisi parmi celles que l’on a crues recommandables par aucune de ces diverses causes, et l’on n’a admis aucun exemplaire qui ne soit de parfaite conservation.”
The list of dramas includes twenty comedies of the sixteenth century; two of which are the Ingannati and Inganni, the former with the usual title page, Comedia del Sacrificio, without date. The Inganni is given as nuovamente ristampata. In Fiorenza, 1568.
To return to the Ingannati. The Prologue says: “The fable is new: never before seen nor read: nor drawn from any other source than the industrious brains of the Academicians of the Intronati.” This, therefore, we may fairly assume to be the original source, from which all other versions of the elements of the story are drawn; the elements being these:
A girl assumes male apparel, and enters as a page into the service of a man, with whom she either previously is, or subsequently becomes, in love. He employs her as a messenger to a lady, who will not listen to his suit. The lady falls in love with the supposed page, and, under the influence of a mistake, marries the girl’s twin brother. The lover transfers his affection to the damsel, who has served him in disguise.
I propose to translate the scenes in which these four characters are principally concerned, and to give a connecting outline of the rest.
The original has no stage directions, and the scenes have no indications of place. I have inserted some stage directions, and have indicated the places of the action, on what appeared to me probable grounds.
The house of Virginio is too far from the house of Gherardo to be shown in the same street. This is apparent from several passages, especially from act iv., scene 7, where Virginio asks Gherardo to take in ms supposed daughter, because he cannot take her to his own house without her being seen in male apparel by all the city.
The house of Gherardo is near the hotels.
The house of Flaminio is in a distinct locality from both. It is clearly not under observation from either.
I have, therefore, marked three changes of scene:
A street, with two hotels, and the house of Gherardo.
A street, with the house of Flaminio.
A street, with the house of Virginio.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
GHERARDO FOIANI, an old man, father of Isabella.
VIRGINIO BELLENZINI, an old man, father of Lelia and Fahrizio.
FLAMINIO DE’ CARANDINI, in love with Isabella.
FABRIZIO, SON of Virginia.
MESSER PIERO, a pedant, tutor of Fabrizio.
L’Agiato and Fruella, rival hotel-keepers.
GIGLIO, a Spaniard.
SPELA, servant of Gherardo.
SCATIZZA, servant of Virginia.
CRIVELLO, servant of Flaminio.
STRAGUALCIA, servant of Fabrizio.
LELIA, daughter of Virginia, disguised as a page, under the name of
Fabio.
ISABELLA, daughter of Gherardo.
CLEMENTIA, nurse of Lelia.
PASQUELLA, housekeeper to Gherardo.
CITTINA, a girl, daughter of dementia.
The Scene is in Modena.
ACT I.
SCENE I. — A Street, with the house of VIRGINIO. VIRGINIO and GHERARDO.
VIRGINIO is an old merchant, who has two children, a son and a daughter, Fabrizio and Lelia. He has lost his property and his son in the sack of Rome, May, 1527, when his daughter had just finished her thirteenth year. The comedy being performed in the Carnival of 1531, the girl is in her seventeenth year. Another old man, Gherardo, who is wealthy, wishes to marry her, and the father assents, provided the maiden is willing. Gherardo thinks that the father’s will ought to he sufficient, and that it only rests with him to make his daughter do as he pleases.
Scene II.
VIRGINIO and CLEMENTIA.
Virginio, having shortly before gone on business to Bologna, in company with a Messer Buonaparte and others, had left Lelia in a convent with her Aunt Camilla, and now, in the intention of her marriage, desires Lelia’s nurse, dementia, to go to the convent to bring her home, dementia must first go to mass.
Scene III. — A Street, with the house of FLAMINIO.
LELIA, afterwards CLEMENTIA.
Lelia (in male apparel). It is great boldness in me, that, knowing the licentious customs of these wild youths of Modena, I should venture abroad alone at this early hour. What would become of me, if any one of them should suspect my sex? But the cause is my love for the cruel and ungrateful Flaminio. Oh, what a fate is mine! I love one who hates me. I serve one who does not know me: and, for more bitter grief, I aid him in his love for another, without any other hope than that of satiating my eyes with his sight. Thus far all has gone well: but now, how can I do? My father has returned. Flaminio has come to live in the town. I can scarcely hope to continue here without being discovered: and if it should be so, my reputation will be blighted for ever, and I shall become the fable of the city. Therefore I have come forth at this hour to consult my nurse, whom, from the window, I have seen coming this way. But I will first see if she knows me in this dress.
[CLEMENTIA enters.
Clementia. In good faith, Flaminio must be returned to Modena: for I see his door open. Oh! if Lelia knew it, it would appear to her a thousand years till she came back to her father’s house. But who is this young coxcomb that keeps crossing before me, backward and forward? What do you mean by it? Take yourself off, or I will show you how I like such chaps.
Lelia. Good-morning, good mother.
Clementia. I seem to know this boy. Tell me, where can I have seen you?
Lelia. You pretend not to know me, eh? Come a little nearer: nearer still: on this side. Now?
Clementia. Is it possible? Can you be Lelia? Oh, misery of my life! What can this mean, my child?
Lelia. Oh! if you cry out in this way, I must go. Clementia. Is this the honour you do to your father, to your house, to yourself, to me, who have brought you up? Come in instantly. You shall not be seen in this dress.
Leila. Pray have a little patience.
Clementia. Are you not ashamed to be seen so?
Leila. Am I the first? I have seen women in Rome go in this way by hundreds.
Clementia. They must be no better than they should be.
Lelia. By no means.
Clementia. Why do you go so? Why have you left the convent? Oh! if your father knew it, he would kill you.
Leila. He would end my affliction. Do you think I value life?
Clementia. But why do you go so? Tell me; Lelia. Listen, and you shall hear. You will then know how great is my affliction, why I have left the convent, why I go thus attired, and what I wish you to do in the matter. But step more aside, lest any one should pass who may recognize me, seeing me talking with you.
Clementia. You destroy me with impatience.
Leila. You know that after the miserable sack of Rome, my fath
er, having lost everything, and with his property my brother Fabrizio, in order not to be alone in his house, took me from the service of the Signora Marchesana, with whom he had placed me, and, constrained by necessity, we returned to our house in Modena to live on the little that remained to us here. You know, also, that my father, having been considered a friend of the Count Guido Rangon, was not well looked on by many.
Clementia. Why do you tell me what I know better than you? I know, too, for what reason you left the city, to live at our farm of Pontanile, and that I went with you.
Leila. You know, also, how bitter were my feelings at that time: not only remote from all thoughts of love, but almost from all human thought, considering that, having been a captive among soldiers, I could not, however purely and becomingly I might live, escape malicious observations. And you know how often you scolded me for my melancholy, and exhorted me to lead a more cheerful life.
Clementia. If I know it, why do you tell it me? Go on.
Lelia. Because it is necessary to remind you of all this, that you may understand what follows. It happened at this time that Flaminio Carandini, from having been attached to the same party as ourselves, formed an intimate friendship with my father, came daily to our house, began to admire me secretly, then took to sighing and casting down his eyes. By degrees I took increasing pleasure in his manners and conversation, not, however, even dreaming of love. But his continuous visits, and sighs, and signs of admiration at last made me aware that he was not a little taken with me, and I, who had never felt love before, deeming him worthy of my dearest thoughts, became in love with him so strongly that I had no longer any delight but in seeing him.
Clementia. Much of this I also knew.
Lelia. You know, too, that when the Spanish soldiers left Rome my father went there, to see if any of our property remained, but, still more, to see if he could learn any news of my brother. He sent me to Mirandola, to stay till his return, with my Aunt Giovanna. With what grief I separated myself from my dear Flaminio you may well say, who so often dried my ears. I remained a year at Mirandola, and on my father’s return I came back to Modena, more than ever enamoured of him who was my first love, and thinking still that he loved me as before.
Clementia. Oh, insanity! How many Modenese have you found constant in the love of one for a year? One month to one, another month to another, is the extent of their devotion.
Lelia. I met him, and he scarcely remembered me, more than if he had never seen me. But the worst of it is, that he has set his heart on Isabella, the daughter of Gherardo Foiani, who is not only very beautiful, but the only child of her father, if the crazy old fellow does not marry again.
Clementia. He thinks himself certain of having you, and says that your father has promised you to him. But all this does not explain to me why you have left the convent, and go about in male apparel.
Lelia. The old fellow certainly shall not have me. But my father, after his return from Rome, having business at Bologna, placed me, as I would not return to Mirandola, in the convent with my cousin Amabile de’ Cortesi. I found, that among these reverend mothers and sisters, love was the principal subject of conversation. I therefore felt emboldened to open my heart to Amabile. She pitied me, and found means to bring Flaminio, who was then living out of the town, in a palazzo near the convent, several times, to speak with her and with others, where I, concealed behind curtains, might feast my eyes with seeing him, and my ears with hearing him. One day, I heard him lamenting the death of a page, whose good service he highly praised, saying how glad he should be if he could find such another. It immediately occurred to me, that I would try to supply the vacant place, and consulting with Sister Amabile, she encouraged me, instructed me how to proceed, and fitted me with some new clothes, which she had had made, in order that she might, as others do, go out in disguise about her own affairs. So one morning early, I left the convent in this attire, and went to Flaminio’s palazzo. There I waited till Flaminio came out: and, Fortune be praised, he no sooner saw me, than he asked me, most courteously, what I wanted, and whence I came.
Clementia. Is it possible that you did not fall dead with shame?
Lelia. Far from it, indeed. Love bore me up. I answered frankly, that I was from Rome, and that being poor, I was seeking service. He examined me several times from head to foot so earnestly, that I was almost afraid he would know me. He then said, that if I pleased to stay with him, he would receive me willingly, and treat me well; and I answered, that I would gladly do so.
Clementia. And what good do you expect from this mad proceeding?
Lelia. The good of seeing him, hearing him, talking with him, learning his secrets, seeing his companions, and being sure that if he is not mine, he is not another’s.
Clementia. In what way do you serve him?
Lelia. As his page, in all honesty. And in this fortnight that I have served him, I have become so much in favour, that I almost think appearing in my true dress would revive his love.
Clementia. What will people say when this shall be known?
Lelia. Who will know it, if you do not tell it? Now, what I want you to do is this: that, as my father returned yesterday, and may perhaps send for me, you would prevent his doing so for four or five days, and at the end of that time I will return. You may say that I have gone to Roverino with Sister Amabile.
Clementia. And why all this?
Lelia. Flaminio, as I have already told you, is enamoured of Isabella Foiani; and he often sends me to her with letters and messages. She, taking me for a young man, has fallen madly in love with me, and makes me the most passionate advances. I pretend that I will not love her, unless she can so manage as to bring Flaminio’s pursuit of her to an end: and I hope that in three or four days he will be brought to give her up.
Clementia. Your father has sent me for you, and I insist on your coming to my house, and I will send for your clothes. If you do not come with me, I will tell your father all about you.
Lelia. Then I will go where neither you nor he shall ever see me again. I can say no more now, for I hear Flaminio call me. Expect me at your house in an hour. Remember, that I call myself Fabio degl’ Alberini. I come, Signor. Adieu, Clementia. dementia (alone). In good faith, she has seen Gherardo coming, and has run away. I must not tell her father for the present, and she must not remain where she is. I will wait till I see her again.
Scene IV.
GHERARDO, SPELA, and CLEMENTIA.
In this scene, Clementia makes sport of the old lover, treating him as a sprightly youth. He swallows the flattery, and echoes it in rapturous speeches, while his servant, Spela, in a series of asides, exhausts on his folly the whole vocabulary of anger and contempt.
Scene V.
SPELA and SCATIZZA.
Spela, at first alone, soliloquizes in ridicule of his master. Scatizza, the servant of Virginio, who had been to fetch Lelia from the convent, enters in great wrath, having been laughed at by the nuns, who told him all sorts of contradictory stories respecting her; by which he is so bewildered, that he does not know what to say to Virginio.
ACT II.
SCENE I. — The Street, with the house of FLAMINIO.
LELIA (as FABIO) and FLAMINIO.
Flaminio. It is a strange thing, Fabio, that I have not yet been able to extract a kind answer from this cruel, this ungrateful Isabella, and yet her always receiving you graciously, and giving you willing audience, makes me think that she does not altogether hate me. Assuredly, I never did anything, that I know, to displease her; and you may judge, from her conversation, if she has any cause to complain of me. Repeat to me what she said yesterday, when you went to her with that letter.
Lelia, I have repeated it to you twenty times.
Flaminio. Oh, repeat it to me once more. What can it matter to you?
Lelia. It matters to me this, that it is disagreeable to you, and is, therefore, painful to me, as your servant, who seek only to please you; and perhaps these answers may give you ill-will to
wards me.
Flaminio. Ho, my dear Fabio; I love you as a brother: I know you wish well to me, and I will never be wanting to you, as time shall show. But repeat to me what she said.
Lelia. Have I not told you? That the greatest pleasure you can do her is to let her alone; to think no more of her, because she has fixed her heart elsewhere: that she has no eyes to look on you; that you lose your time in following her, and will find yourself at last with your hands full of wind.
Flaminio. And does it appear to you, Fabio, that she says these things from her heart, or, rather, that she has taken some offence with me? For at one time she showed me favour, and I cannot believe that she wishes me ill, while she accepts my letters and my messages. I am disposed to follow her till death. Do you not think me in the right, Fabio?
Lelia. Ho, signor.
Flaminio. Why?
Lelia. Because, if I were in your place, I should expect her to receive my service as a grace and an honour. To a young man like you, noble, virtuous, elegant, handsome, can ladies worthy of you be wanting? Do as I would do, sir: leave her; and attach yourself to some one who will love you as you deserve. Such will be easily found, and perhaps as handsome as she is. Have you never yet found one in this country who loved you!
Flaminio. Indeed I have, and especially one, who is named Lelia, and of whom, I have often thought, I see a striking likeness in you: the most beautiful, the most accomplished, the most courteous young person in this town: who would think herself happy, if I would show her even a little favour: rich, and well received at court. We were lovers nearly a year, and she showed me a thousand favours: but she went to Mirandola, and my fate made me enamoured of Isabella, who has been as cruel to me as Lelia was gracious.
Lelia. Master, you deserve to suffer. If you do not value one who loves you, it is fitting that one you love should not value you.
Flaminio. What do you mean?
Lelia. If you first loved this poor girl, and if she loved and still loves you, why have you abandoned her to follow another! Ah, Signor Flaminio! you do a great wrong, a greater than I know if God can pardon.
Complete Works of Thomas Love Peacock Page 115