PUBLIUS SYRUS.
The celebrated Mime, called Publius Syrus, was brought from Asia to Italy in early youth, in the same vessel with his countryman and kinsman, Manlius Antiochus, the professor of astrology, and Staberius Eros, the grammarian, who all, by some desert in learning, rose above their original fortune. He received a good education and liberty from his master, in reward for his witticisms and facetious disposition. He first represented his Mimes in the provincial towns of Italy, whence, his fame having spread to Rome, he was summoned to the capital, to assist in those public spectacles which Cæsar afforded his countrymen, in exchange for their freedom[555]. On one occasion, he challenged all persons of his own profession to contend with him on the stage; and in this competition he successively overcame every one of his rivals. By his success in the representation of these popular entertainments, he amassed considerable wealth, and lived with such luxury, that he never gave a great supper without having sow’s udder at table—a dish which was prohibited by the censors, as being too great a luxury even for the table of patricians[556].
Nothing farther is known of his history, except that he was still continuing to perform his Mimes with applause at the period of the death of Laberius.
We have not the names of any of the Mimes of Publius; nor do we precisely know their nature or subject,—all that is preserved from them being a number of detached sentiments or maxims, to the number of 800 or 900, seldom exceeding a single line, but containing reflections of unrivalled force, truth, and beauty, on all the various relations, situations, and feelings of human life—friendship, love, fortune, pride, adversity, avarice, generosity. Both the writers and actors of Mimes were probably careful to have their memory stored with common-places and precepts of morality, in order to introduce them appropriately in their extemporaneous performances. The maxims of Publius were interspersed through his dramas, but being the only portion of these productions now remaining, [pg 333]they have just the appearance of thoughts or sentiments, like those of Rochefoucauld. His Mimes must either have been very numerous, or very thickly loaded with these moral aphorisms. It is also surprising that they seem raised far above the ordinary tone even of regular comedy, and appear for the greater part to be almost stoical maxims. Seneca has remarked that many of his eloquent verses are fitter for the buskin than the slipper[557]. How such exalted precepts should have been grafted on the lowest farce, and how passages, which would hardly be appropriate in the most serious sentimental comedy, were adapted to the actions or manners of gross and drunken buffoons, is a difficulty which could only be solved had we fortunately received entire a larger portion of these productions, which seem to have been peculiar to Roman genius.
The sentiments of Publius Syrus now appear trite. They have become familiar to mankind, and have been re-echoed by poets and moralists from age to age. All of them are most felicitously expressed, and few of them seem erroneous, while at the same time they are perfectly free from the selfish or worldly-minded wisdom of Rochefoucauld, or Lord Burleigh.
“Amicos res opimæ pavant, adversæ probant.
Miserrima fortuna est quæ inimico caret.
Ingratus unus miseris omnibus nocet.
Timidas vocat se cautum, parcum sordidus.
Etiam oblivisci quid scis interdum prodest.
In nullum avarus bonus, in se pessimus.
Cuivis dolori remedium est patientia.
Honestus rumor alterum est patrimonium.
Tam deest avaro quod habet quam quod non habet.
O vita misero longa—felici brevis!”
This last sentiment has been beautifully, but somewhat diffusely expressed by Metastasio:
“Perchè tarda è mai la morte
Quando è termine al martir?
A chi vive in lieta sorte
E sollecito il morir.”—Artaserse.
The same idea is thus expressed by La Bruyere: “La vie est courte pour ceux qui sont dans les joyes du monde: Elle ne paroit longue qu’a ceux qui languissent dans l’affliction. Job se plaint de vivre long temps, et Salomon craint de mourir trop jeune.” La Bruyere, indeed, has interspersed a vast number of the maxims of the Roman Mime in his writings,—expanding, modifying, or accommodating them to the manners of his age [pg 334]and country, as best suited his purpose. One of them only, he quotes to reprehend:
“Ita amicum habeas, posse ut fieri inimicum putes.”
This sentiment, which Publius had borrowed from the Greeks, and which is supposed to have been originally one of the sayings of Bias, has been censured by Cicero, in his beautiful treatise De Amicitia, as the bane of friendship. It would be endless to quote the lines of the different Latin poets, particularly Horace and Juvenal, which are nearly copied from the maxims of Publius Syrus. Seneca, too, has availed himself of many of his reflections, and, at the same time, does full justice to the author from whom he has borrowed. Publius, says he, is superior in genius both to tragic and comic writers: Whenever he gives up the follies of the Mimes, and that language which is directed to the crowd, he writes many things not only above that species of composition, but worthy of the tragic buskin[558].
Cneius Matius, also a celebrated writer of Mimes, was contemporary with Laberius and Publius Syrus. Some writers have confounded him with Caius Matius, who was a correspondent of Cicero, and an intimate friend of Julius Cæsar. Ziegler, though he distinguishes him from Cicero’s correspondent, says, that he was the same person as the friend of Cæsar[559].
Aulus Gellius calls Matius a very learned man, (homo eruditus et impense doctus,) and frequently quotes him for obsolete terms and forms of expression[560]. Like other writers of Mimes, he indulged himself a good deal in this sort of phraseology, but his diction was considered as agreeable and highly poetical[561].
The Mimes of Matius were called Mimiambi, because chiefly written in iambics; but not more than a dozen lines have descended to us. The following verses have been praised for elegance and a happy choice of expressions—
“Quapropter edulcare convenit vitam,
Curasque acerbas sensibus gubernare;
Sinuque amicam recipere frigidam caldo
Columbatimque labra conserens labris[562].”
The age of Laberius, P. Syrus, and Matius, was the most brilliant epoch in the history of the actors of Mimes. After that period, they relapsed into a race of impudent buffoons; and, in the reign of Augustus, were classed, by Horace, with mountebanks and mendicants[563]. Pantomimic actors, who did not employ their voice, but represented everything by gesticulation and dancing, became, under Augustus, the idols of the multitude, the minions of the great, and the favourites of the fair. The Mimi were then but little patronized on the stage, but were still admitted into convivial parties, and even the court of the Emperors, to entertain the guests[564], like the Histrions, Jongleurs, or privileged fools, of the middle ages; and they were also employed at funerals, to mimic the manners of the deceased. Thus, the Archimimus, who represented the character of the avaricious Vespasian, at the splendid celebration of his obsequies, inquired what would be the cost of all this posthumous parade; and on being told that it would amount to ten millions of sesterces, he replied, that if they would give him a hundred thousand, they might throw his body into the river[565]. The audacity, however, of the Mimes was carried still farther, as they satirized and insulted the most ferocious Emperors during their lives, and in their own presence. An actor, in one of these pieces which was performed during the reign of Nero, while repeating the words “Vale pater, vale mater,” signified by his gestures the two modes of drowning and poisoning, in which that sanguinary fiend had attempted to destroy both his parents[566]. The Mimi currently bestowed on Commodus the most opprobrious appellation[567]. One of their number, who performed before the enormous Maximin, reminded the audience, that he who was too strong for an individual, might be massacred by a multitude, and that thus the elephant, lion, and tiger, are slain. The tyrant perceived the sensation excited in the Theatre, but the suggestion was veiled in a language unknown to that barbarous and gigantic Thracian[568].
The Mimes may be traced beyond the age of Constantine, as we find the fathers of the church reprehending the immorality and licentiousness of such exhibitions[569]. Tradition is never so faithful as in the preservation of popular pastimes; and accordingly, many of those which had amused the Romans [pg 336]survived their dominion. The annual celebration of Carnival prolonged the remembrance of them during the dark ages. Hence, the Mimes, and the Atellane fables formerly mentioned, became the origin of the Italian pantomimic parts introduced in the Commedie dell’ arte, in which a subject was assigned, and the scenes were enumerated; but in which the dialogue was left to the extemporary invention of the actors, who represented buffoon characters in masks, and spoke the dialect of different districts. “As to Italy,” says Warburton, in an account given by him of the Rise and Progress of the Modern Stage, “the first rudiments of its theatre, with regard to the matter, were profane subjects, and with regard to the form, a corruption of ancient Mimes and Atellanes.”—Zanni is one of the names of the Harlequin in the Italian comedies; and Sannio, as we learn from ancient writers, was a ridiculous personage, who performed in these Latin farces, with his head shaved[570], his face bedaubed with soot[571], and clothed in party-coloured garments—a dress universally worn by the ancient Italian peasantry during the existence of the Roman Republic[572]. The lowest species of mimic actors were called planipedes, because they performed without sock or buskin, and generally barefooted, whence Harlequin’s flat unsho’d feet. A passage of Cicero, in which he speaks of the Sannio, seems almost intended to describe the perpetual and flexible motion of the limbs, the ludicrous gestures, and mimetic countenance of Harlequin. “Quid enim” says he, “potest tam ridiculum quam Sannio esse? qui ore, vultu, imitandis motibus, voce, denique corpore ridetur ipso[573].” Among the Italians, indeed, this character soon degenerated into a booby and glutton, who became the butt of his more sharp-sighted companions. In France, Harlequin was converted into a wit,—sometimes even a moralist; and with us he has been transformed into an expert magician, who astonishes by sudden changes of the scene: But none of these was his original, or native character, which, as we have seen, corresponded to the Sannio of the Mimes and Atellane fables. In the year 1727, a bronze figure of high antiquity, and of which Quadrio gives an engraving[574], was found at Rome; and it appears from it, that the modern Pollicinella of Naples is a lineal descendant of the Mimus Albus of the Atellanes[575]. Ficoroni, who, in his work Larve Sceniche, compares his immense collection of Roman masks with the [pg 337]modern Italian characters, was possessed of an onyx, which represented a Mime with a long nose and pointed cap, carrying a bag of money in one hand, and two brass balls in the other, which he sounded, as is supposed, like castanets when he danced. These appendages correspond to the attributes which distinguished the Italian dancer of Catana, known by the name of Giangorgolo. Another onyx exhibits a figure resembling that of Pantalone. It is also evident from the Antiques collected by Ficoroni, that the Roman Mimi were fond of representing caricatures of foreign nations, as we find among these ancient figures the attires of the oriental nations, and the garb of old Gaul—a species of exhibition in which the Commedia dell’ arte also particularly delighted.
These Commedie dell’ arte were brought to the highest pitch of comic and grotesque perfection by Ruzzante, an Italian dramatist, who both wrote and performed a number of them about the middle of the sixteenth century, and who, in addition to Zany and Pollicinella, peopled the stage with a new and enlivening crowd of mimetic characters. There appears to be something so congenial to the Italian taste in these exhibitions, that they long maintained their ground against the regular dramas, produced by the numerous successors of Trissino and Bibbiena, and kept supreme possession of the Italian stage, till at length Goldoni, by introducing beauties which were incongruous with the ancient masks, gradually refined the taste of his audience, made them ashamed of their former favourites, and then, in some of his pieces, ventured to exclude from the stage the whole grotesque and gesticulating family of Harlequin.
Having said so much (and, I fear, too much) of the Mimes, and other departments of the Roman drama, it would not be suitable to conclude without some notice, I. of the mechanical construction of the theatre where the dramatic entertainments were produced; and, II. of the actors’ declamation, as also of the masks and other attributes of the characters which were chiefly represented.
I. Such was the severity of the ancient republican law, that it permitted no places of amusement, except the circus, where games were specially privileged from having been instituted by Romulus, and exhibited in honour of the gods. Satiric and dramatic representations, however, as we have seen, gradually became popular; and, at length, so increased [pg 338]in number and importance, that a Theatre was required for their performance.
The subject of the construction of the Roman theatre is attended with difficulty and confusion. While there are still considerable remains of amphitheatres, scarcely any ruins or vestiges of theatres exist. The writings of the ancients throw little light on the topic; and there is much contradiction, or at least apparent inconsistency, in what has been written, in consequence of the alterations which took place in the construction of theatres in the progress of time.
Those stages, which were erected in the earliest periods of the Roman republic, for the exhibitions of dancers and histrions, were probably set up according to the Etruscan mode, in places covered with boughs of trees, (Nemorosa palatia,) in tents or booths, or, at best, in temporary and moveable buildings—perhaps not much superior in dignity or accommodation to the cart of Thespis.
But, though the Etruscan histrions probably constructed the stage on which they were to perform, according to the fashion of their own country, the Greek was the model of the regular Roman theatre, as much as the pieces of Euripides and Menander were the prototypes of the Latin tragedies and comedies. The remains of a playhouse believed to be Etruscan, were discovered at Adria about the middle of the seventeenth century. But there was a wider difference between it and the Roman theatre, than between the Roman and the Greek. The Greeks had a large orchestra, and a very limited stage—the Romans, a confined orchestra, and extensive stage; while in the Adrian theatre, the orchestra was larger even than in the Greek[576].
The first regular theatre at Rome was that constructed for Livius Andronicus on the Aventine Hill. This building, however, was but temporary, and probably existed no longer than the distinguished dramatist and actor for whose accommodation it was erected. In the year 575, M. Æmilius Lepidus got a theatre constructed adjacent to the temple of Apollo[577]; but it also was one of those occasional buildings, which were removed after the series of dramatic exhibitions for which they had been intended were concluded. A short while before the commencement of the third Punic war, a playhouse, which the censors were fitting up with seats for the convenience of the spectators, was thrown down by a decree of the senate, [pg 339]as prejudicial to public morals; and the people continued for some time longer to view the representations standing, as formerly[578]. At length, M. Æmilius Scaurus built a theatre capable of containing 80,000 spectators, and provided with every possible accommodation for the public. It was also adorned with amazing magnificence, and at almost incredible expense. Its stage had three lofts or stories, rising above each other, and supported by 360 marble columns. The lowest floor was of marble—the second was incrusted with glass; and the third was formed of gilded boards or planks. The pillars were thirty-eight feet in height: and between them were placed bronze statues and images, to the number of not fewer than 3000. There was besides an immense superfluity of rich hangings of cloth of gold; and painted tablets, the most exquisite that could be procured, were disposed all around the pulpitum and scenes[579].
Curio, being unable to rival such profuse and costly decoration, distinguished himself by a new invention, which he introduced at the funeral entertainments given by him in honour of his father’s memory. He constructed two large edifices of wood adjacent to each other, and suspended on hinges so contrived that the buildings could be united at their centre or separated, in such a manner as to form a theatre or amphitheatre, according to the nature of the exhibition. In both these fabrics he made stage plays be acted in the early part of the day—the semicircles being placed back to back, so that the declamation, music, and applauses, in the one, did not reach the other; and then, having wheeled them round in the afternoon, so that, by completing the circle, they formed an amphitheatre, he exhibited combats of gladiators[580]. All these changes were performed without displacing the spectators, who seem to have fearlessly trusted themselves to the strength of the machinery, and skill of the artist.
The theatres of Scaurus and Curio, though they far surpassed in extent and sumptuous decoration all the permanent theatres of modern times: yet, being built of wood, and being only destined for a certain number of representations during certain games or festivals, were demolished when these were concluded. The whole furnishings and costly materials of the theatre of Scaurus were immediately removed to his private villa, where they were burned, it is said, by his servants, [pg 340]in a transport of indignation at the extravagant profusion of their master[581].
Pompey was the first person who erected a permanent theatre of stone. After the termination of the Mithridatic war, he made a coasting voyage along the shores and islands of Greece. In the whole of his progress he showed the attention of a liberal and cultivated mind to monuments of art. The theatre of Mitylene particularly pleased him, both in its outward form, and interior construction. He carried away with him a model of this building, that he might erect at Rome a theatre similar to it[582], but on a larger scale. The edifice which he built on the plan of this theatre, after his return to Rome, was situated in the field of Flora, near the temple of Venus Victrix, and held just one half of the number of spectators which the playhouse of Scaurus contained[583]. It was completed during Pompey’s second consulship, in the year 698. On the day on which it was opened, Æsopus, the great tragic actor, appeared for the last time in one of his favourite characters, but his strength and voice failed him, and he was unable to finish the part.
The construction of this theatre was speedily followed by the erection of others. But all the Roman theatres which were built towards the close of the republic, and commencement of the empire, were formed, in most respects, on the model of the Greek theatre, both in their external plan and interior arrangement. They were oblong semicircular buildings, forming the half of an amphitheatre; and were thus rounded at one end, and terminated on the other by a long straight line. The interior was divided into three parts—1. The place for the spectators; 2. The orchestra; and, 3. The stage[584].
1. The universal passion of the Roman people for all sorts of exhibitions, rendered the places from which they were to view them a matter of competition and importance. Originally there were no seats in the theatres, and the senators stood promiscuously with the people; yet, such in those days was the reverence felt by the plebeians for their dignified superiors, that, notwithstanding their rage for spectacles, they never pushed before a senator[585]. It was in the year 559, during the consulship of the elder Scipio Africanus with Sempronius Longus, that the former carried a law, by which separate places were assigned to the senators[586]. This regu[pg 341]lation was renewed from time to time, as circumstances of political confusion removed the line of distinction which had been drawn. Scipio lost much of his popularity by this aristocratic innovation, and is said to have severely repented of the share he had taken in it[587]. By the law of Scipio, part of the orchestra, (which, in the Greek theatre, was occupied by the chorus,) was appropriated to the senators. The knights and plebeians, however, continued to sit promiscuously for more than 100 years longer; but at length, in 685, a regulation of the tribune, Roscius Otho, allotted to the knights, tribunes, and persons of a certain census, fourteen rows of circular benches immediately behind the orchestra. This was a still more unpopular measure than that introduced by the edict of Africanus. Otho, during the consulship of Cicero, having entered the theatre, was hissed by the multitude, while Roscius was acting one of his principal parts; but Cicero presently called them out to the temple of Bellona, where he delivered a harangue, which appeased their fury and reconciled them to the tribune[588]. Henceforth the senators held undisputed possession of the orchestra; and the knights, with the better classes, retained the fourteen rows of seats immediately surrounding it.
The seats for the senators, arranged in the orchestra, were straight benches, placed at equal distances from each other, and were not fixed[589]. The other benches, which were assigned to the knights and people, were semicircularly disposed around the circumference of the theatre, and spread from the orchestra to the rounded end of the building The extremities of the seats joined the orchestra, and they were carried one above another, sloping, till they reached the remotest part, and ascended almost to the ceiling. Thus the benches which were lowest and most contiguous to the orchestra, described a smaller circumference than those which spread more towards the outer walls of the theatre[590]. Over the higher tier of seats a portico was constructed, the roof of which ranged with the loftiest part of the scene, in order that the voice expanding equally, might be carried to the uppermost seats, and thence to the top of the building[591]. The benches, which were gently raised above each other, were separated into three sets or tiers: each tier, at least in most theatres, consisting of seven benches. According to some [pg 342]writers, the separation of these tiers was a passage, or gallery, which went quite round them for facility of communication; according to others, it was a belt, or precinction, which was twice the height, and twice the breadth of the seats[592]. It would appear, however, from a passage in Vitruvius, that both a raised belt, and a gallery or corridore, surrounded each tier of seats[593]. One of the precinctions formed the division between the places of the knights and those of the people[594]. In a different and angular direction, the tiers and ranges of seats were separated by stairs, making so many lines in the circumference of the seats, and leading from the orchestra to the doors of the theatre. The benches were cut by the stairs into the form of wedges. The steps of the stairs were always a little lower than the seats; but the number of stairs varied in different theatres. Pompey’s theatre had fifteen, that of Marcellus only seven[595]. As luxury increased at Rome, these stairs were bedewed with streams of fragrant water, for the purposes of coolness and refreshment. At the top of each flight of steps were doors called vomitoria, which gave egress from the theatre, and communicated directly with the external stair-cases[596].
In the ancient temporary Roman theatres, the body of the building, or place where the spectators sat, was open at top to receive the light. But Quintus Catulus, during the entertainments exhibited at his dedication of the Capitol, introduced the luxury of canvass, which was drawn partially or completely over the theatre at pleasure[597]. This curtain was at first of simple unornamented wool, and was merely used as a screen from the sun, or a protection from rain; but, in process of time, silken hangings of glossy texture and splendid hues waved from the roof, flinging their gorgeous tints on the proscenium and spectators:—
“Et vulgo faciunt id lutea russaque vela,
Et ferrugina, quum, magnis intenta theatris,
Per malos vulgata trabesque, trementia fluctant.
Namque ibi consessum caveai subter, et omnem
Scenalem speciem, patrum, matrumque, deorumque,
Inficiunt, coguntque suo fluitare colore[598].”
2. The Orchestra was a considerable space in the centre of the theatre, part of which was allotted for the seats of the [pg 343]senators. The remainder was occupied by those who played upon musical instruments, whose office it was, in the performance both of tragedies and comedies, to give to the actors and audience the tone of feeling which the dramatic parts demanded. In tragedies, the music invariably accompanied the Chorus. It was not, however, confined to the Chorus; but appears to have been also in the monologues, and perhaps in some of the most impassioned parts of the dialogue; for Cicero tells of Roscius, that he said, when he grew older, he would make the music play slower, that he might the more easily keep up with it[599]. I do not, however, believe, that comedy was a musical performance throughout: Mr Hawkins, after quoting a number of authorities to this purpose, concludes, “that comedy had no music but between the acts, except, perhaps, occasionally in the case of marriages and sacrifices, if any such were represented on the stage[600].”
Every play had its own musical prelude, which distinguished it from others, and from which many of the audience at once knew what piece was about to be performed[601]. The chief musical instruments employed in the theatre were the tibiæ, or flutes, with which the comedies of Terence are believed to have been represented. The Andria is said to have been acted, “Tibiis paribus, dextris et sinistris;”—the Eunuch, “Tibiis duabus dextris;”—the Heautontimorumenos, on its first appearance, “Tibiis imparibus;” on its second, “Duabus dextris;”—the Adelphi, “Tibiis sarranis;”—the Hecyra, “Tibiis paribus,”—and the Phormio, “Tibiis imparibus.” It thus appears, that the theatrical flutes were classed as “dextræ et sinistræ,” and also as “pares et impares,” and that there were likewise “Tibiæ Serranæ,” or “Sarranæ,” to which, it is believed, the Phrygiæ were opposed. There has been much dispute, however, as to what constituted the distinction between these different sets of pipes. Scaliger thinks, that the “Tibiæ dextræ et sinistræ” were formed by cutting the reed into two parts: that portion which was next to the root making the left, and that next to the top the right flute.—whence the notes of the former were more grave, and those of the latter more acute[602]. Mad. Dacier, however, is of opinion, that flutes were denominated right and left from the valves, in playing, being stopped with the right or left hand. There is [pg 344]still more difficulty with regard to the “Tibiæ pares et impares.” Some persons conjecture, that the Tibiæ pares were a set of two or more pipes of the same pitch in the musical scale, and Impares such as did not agree in pitch[603]. The opinion, that flutes were called Pares when they had an even, and Impares when an odd number of valves, is not inconsistent with this notion; nor with that adopted by Dempster[604], that the difference depended on their being equal or unequal distances between the valves. It may be also reconciled with the idea of Salmasius, that when the same set of flutes were employed, as two right or two left, a play was said to be acted Tibiis paribus; and, when one or more right with one or more left were used, it was announced as performed Tibiis imparibus. This idea, however, of Salmasius, is inconsistent with what is said as to the Andria being acted with equal flutes right and left; unless, indeed, we suppose, with Mad. Dacier, that this is to be understood of different representations, and that the flutes were of the same description at each performance, but were sometimes a set of right, and at other times a set of left flutes.
As to the Tibiæ Serranæ, some have supposed that they were so called from Serra, since they produced the sharp grating sound occasioned by a saw[605]; some, that they were denominated Sarranæ from Sarra, a city in Phœnicia, where such flutes are believed to have been invented[606]; and others, that they derived their name from Sero to lock; because in these flutes, there were valves or stops which opened and shut alternately[607]. It is only farther known, that the Tibiæ Serranæ belonged to the class called Pares, and the Phrygiæ, to which they were opposed, to that styled Impares.
All flutes, of whatever denomination, were extremely simple in the commencement of the dramatic art at Rome. Their form was plain, and they had but few notes. In progress of time, however, they became more complex, and louder in their tones[608].
Several chorded instruments were also used in the orchestra, as the lyre and harp, and in later times an hydraulic organ was introduced. This instrument, which is described in the Organon of Pub. Optatianus, emitted a sound which was produced from air created by the concussion of water. Cornelius Severus, in his poem of Ætna, alludes to it, under the name of Cortina—
“Carmineque irriguo magni Cortina Theatri
Imparibus numerosa modis canit arte regentis,
Quæ tenuem impellens animam subremigat undam[609].”
3. The Stage. The front area of the stage was a little elevated above that part of the orchestra where the musicians were placed, and was called the Proscenium. On the proscenium a wooden platform, termed the pulpitum, was raised to the height of five feet[610]. This the actors ascended to perform their characters; and here all the dramatic representations of the Romans were exhibited[611], except the Mimes, which were acted on the lower floor of the proscenium. Certain architectural proportions were assigned to all these different parts of the theatre.
The whole space or area behind the pulpitum was called the Scena, because the scenery appropriate to the piece was there exhibited. “The three varieties of scenes,” says Vitruvius, “are termed tragic, comic, and satyric, each of which has a style of decoration peculiar to itself. In the tragic scene columns are represented, with statues, and other embellishments suitable to palaces and public buildings. The comic scene represents the houses of individuals, with their balconies and windows arranged in imitation of private dwellings. The satyric is adorned with groves, dens, and mountains, and other rural objects.” The rigid adherence of the ancients to the unity of place, rendered unnecessary that frequent shifting of scenes which is required in our dramas. When the side scenes were changed, the frames, or painted planks, were turned by machinery, and the scene was then called versatilis, or revolving: When it was withdrawn altogether, and another brought forward, it was called ductilis, or, sliding. There were also trapdoors in the floor of this part of the theatre, by which ghosts and the Furies ascended when their presence was required; and machines were disposed above the scene, as also at its sides, by which gods and other superior beings were suddenly brought upon the stage.
At the bottom of the scene, or end most remote from the spectators, there was a curtain of painted canvass, which was first used after the tapestry of Attalus had been brought to Rome[612]. It was dropped when the play began, remained down during the performance, and was drawn up when the [pg 346]representation concluded. This was certainly the case during the existence of the republic; but I imagine that an alteration took place in the time of the emperors, and that the curtain, being brought more forward on the scene, was then, as with us, raised at the commencement, and dropped at the end of the piece:—
“Mox ubi ridendas inclusit pagina partes,
Vera redit facies, dissimulata perit[613].”
At each side of the scena there were doors called Hospitalia, by which the actors entered and made their exits.
That part of the theatre which comprehended the stage and scene was originally covered with branches of trees, which served both for shelter and ornament. It was afterwards shut in with planks, which were painted for the first time in the year 654. About the same period the scene was enriched with gold and silver hangings, and the proscenium was decorated with columns, statues, and altars to the god in whose honour, or at whose festival, the stage plays were represented.
II. In turning our attention to the actors who appeared on the pulpitum of the Roman stage, the point which first attracts our notice is that supposed separation of the dramatic labour, by which one performer gesticulated while the other declaimed. This division, however, did not take place at all in comedy, or in the ordinary dialogue (Diverbia) of tragedy; as is evinced by various passages in the Latin authors, which show that Æsopus, the chief tragic actor, and Roscius, the celebrated comedian, both gesticulated and declaimed. Cicero informs us, that Æsopus was hissed if he was in the least degree hoarse[614]; and he also mentions one remarkable occasion, on which, having returned to the stage after he had long retired from it, his voice suddenly failed him just as he commenced an adjuration in the part he represented[615]. This evinces that Æsopus declaimed; and the same author affords us proof that he gesticulated: For, in the treatise De Divinatione, he introduces his brother Quintus, declaring, that he had himself witnessed in Æsopus such animation of countenance, and vehemence of gesture, that he seemed carried beside himself [pg 347]by some irresistible power[616]. Roscius, indeed, is chiefly talked of for the gracefulness of his gestures[617], but there are also passages which refer to the modulation of his voice[618]. It may perhaps, however, be said, that the above citations only prove that the same actor gesticulated in some characters, and declaimed in others; it seems, however, much more probable that Æsopus went through the whole dramatic part, than that he appeared in some plays merely as a gesticulating, and in others as a declaiming, performer.
There was thus no division in the ordinary dialogue, or diverbium, as it was called, and it was employed only in the monologues, and those parts of high excitement and pathos, which were declaimed somewhat in the tone of recitativo in an Italian opera, and were called Cantica, from being accompanied either by the flutes or by instrumental music. That one actor should have recited, and another performed the corresponding gestures in the scenes of a tragedy, and that, too, in parts of the highest excitement, and in which theatric illusion should have been rendered most complete, certainly appears the most incongruous and inexplicable circumstance in the history of the Roman Drama. This division did not exist on the Greek stage, but it commenced at Rome as early as the time of Livius Andronicus, who, being encored, as we call it, in his monologues, introduced a slave, who declaimed to the sound of the flute, while he himself executed the corresponding gesticulations[619]. To us nothing can seem at first view more ridiculous, and more injurious to theatric illusion, than one person going through a dumb show or pantomime, while another, who must have appeared a supernumerary on the pulpitum, recited, with his arms across, the corresponding verses, in tones of the utmost vehemence and pathos[620]. It must, [pg 348]however, be recollected, that the Roman theatres were larger and worse lighted than ours; that the mask prevented even the nearest spectators from perceiving the least motion of the lips, and they thus heard only the words without knowing whether they proceeded from him who recited or gestured; and, finally, that these actors were so well trained, that they agreed precisely in their respective parts. We are informed by Cicero, that a comedian who made a movement out of time was as much hissed as one who mistook the pronunciation of a word or quantity of a syllable in a verse[621]. Seneca says, that it is surprising to see the attitudes of eminent comedians on the stage overtake and keep pace with speech, notwithstanding the velocity of the tongue[622].
So much importance was attached to the art of dramatic gesticulation, that it was taught in the schools; and there were instituted motions as well as natural. These artificial gestures, however, of arbitrary signification, were chiefly employed in pantomime, where speech not being admitted, more action was required to make the piece intelligible: And it appears from Quintilian, that comedians who acted with due decorum, never, or but very rarely, made use of instituted signs in their gesticulation[623]. The movements suited to theatrical declamation were subdivided into three different sorts. The first, called Emmelia, was adapted to tragic declamation; the second, Cordax, was fitted to comedies; and the third, Sicinnis, was proper to satiric pieces, as the Mimes and Exodia[624].
The recitation was also accounted of high importance, so that the player who articulated took prodigious pains to improve his voice, and an almost whimsical care to preserve it[625]. Nearly a third part of Dubos’ once celebrated work on Poetry and Painting, is occupied with the theatric declamation of the Roman actors. The art of framing the declamation of dramatic pieces was, he informs us, the object of a particular study, and indeed profession, at Rome. It was composed and signified in notes, placed over each verse of the play, to direct the tones and inflection of voice which were to be observed in recitation. There were a certain number of accents in the [pg 349]Latin language, and the composer of a declamation marked each syllable requiring to be accented, the grave or the acute accent which properly belonged to it, while on the remaining syllables, he noted, by means of conventional marks, a tone conformable to the tenor of the discourse. The declamation was thus not a musical song, but a recitation subject to the direction of a noted melody. Tragic declamation was graver and more harmonious than comic, but even the comic was more musical and varied than the pronunciation used in ordinary conversation[626]. This system, it might be supposed, would have deprived the actors of much natural fire and enthusiasm, from the constraint to which they were thus subjected; but the whole dramatic system of the ancients was more artificial than ours, and something determinate and previously arranged, as to quantities and pauses, was perhaps essential to enable the gesticulating actor to move in proper concert with the reciter. The whole system, however, of noted declamation, is denied by Duclos and Racine, who think it impossible that accentuated tones of passion could be devised or employed[627].
Both the actor who declaimed, and he who gesticulated, wore masks; and, before concluding the subject of the Roman theatre, it may not be improper to say a few words concerning this singular dramatic contrivance, as also concerning the attire of the performers.
From the opportunity which they so readily afforded, of personally satirizing individuals, by representing a caricatured resemblance of their features, masks were first used in the old Greek comedy, which assumed the liberty of characterizing living citizens of Athens. It is most probable, however, that the hint of dramatic masks was given to the Romans by the Etruscans[628]. That they were employed by the histrions of that latter nation, can admit of no doubt. The actors represented on the Etruscan vases are all masked, and have caps on their heads[629]. We also know, that in some of the satirical exhibitions of the ancient Italians, they wore masks made of wood:
“Nec non Ausonii, Trojâ gens missa, coloni
Versibus incomptis ludunt, risuque soluto
Oraque corticibus sumunt horrenda cavatis[630].”
Originally, and in the time of L. Andronicus, the actors on the Roman stage used only caps or beavers[631], and their faces were daubed and disguised with the lees of wine, as at the commencement of the dramatic art in Greece. The increased size, however, of the theatres, and consequent distance of the spectators from the stage, at length compelled the Roman players to borrow from art the expression of those passions which could no longer be distinguished on the living countenance of the actor.
Most of the Roman masks covered not merely the face, but the greater part of the head[632], so that the beard and hair were delineated, as well as the features. This indeed is implied in one of the fables of Phædrus, where a fox, after having examined a tragic mask, which he found lying in his way, exclaims, “What a vast shape without brains[633]!”—An observation obviously absurd, if applied to a mere vizard for the face, which was not made, and could not have been expected, to contain any brains. Addison, in his Travels in Italy, mentions, that, in that country, he had seen statues of actors, with the larva or mask. One of these was not merely a vizard for the face; it had false hair, and came over the whole head like an helmet. He also mentions, however, that he has seen figures of Thalia, sometimes with an entire head-piece in her hand, and a friz running round the edges of the face; but at others, with a mask merely for the countenance, like the modern vizards of a masquerade.
The masks of the regular theatre were made of chalk, or pipe-clay, or terra cotta. A few were of metal, but these were chiefly the masks of the Mimes. The chalk or clay masks were so transparent and artfully prepared, that the play of the muscles could be seen through them; and it appears that an opening was frequently left for the eyes, since Cicero informs us expressly, that in parts of high pathos or indignation, the actor’s eyes were often observed to sparkle under the vizard[634]. From a vast collection of Roman masks engraved in the work of Ficoroni, De Larvis Scenicis, it appears that most of them represented features considerably distorted, and enlarged beyond the natural proportions. A wide and gaping mouth is one of their chief characteristics. The mask being in a great measure contrived to prevent the dispersion of the [pg 351]voice, the mouth was so formed, and was so incrusted with metal, as to have somewhat the effect of a speaking-trumpet—hence the Romans gave the name of persona to masks, because they rendered the articulation of those who wore them more distinct and sonorous[635]. There are, however, a few figures in the work of Ficoroni, carrying in their hands masks which are not unnaturally distorted, and which have, in several instances, a resemblance to the actor who holds them. M. Boindin, on the authority of a passage in Lucian’s Dialogue on Dancing, thinks that these less hideous masks were employed by dancers, or pantomimic actors, who, as they did not speak, had no occasion for the distended mouth[636].
Roscius, who had some defect in his eyes, is said to have been the first actor who used the Greek mask[637]: but it was not invariably worn even by him, as appears from a passage of Cicero.—“All,” says that author, “depends upon the face, and all the power of the face is centred in the eyes. Of this our old men are the best judges, for they were not lavish of their applause even to Roscius in a mask[638].”
The different characters who chiefly appeared on the Roman stage—the father, the lover, the parasite, the pander, and the courtezan, were distinguished by their appropriate masks. A particular physiognomy was considered as so essential to each character, that it was thought, that without a proper mask, a complete knowledge of the personage could not be communicated. “In tragedies,” says Quintilian, “Niobe appears with a sorrowful countenance—and Medea announces her character by the fierce expression of her physiognomy—stern courage is painted on the mask of Hercules, while that of Ajax proclaims his transport and phrensy. In comedies, the masks of slaves, pimps, and parasites—peasants, soldiers, old women, courtezans, and female slaves, have each their particular character[639].” Julius Pollux, in his Onomasticon, has given a minute description of the mask appropriate to every dramatic character[640]. His work, however, was written [pg 352]in the reign of the Emperor Commodus, and his observations are chiefly formed on the practice of the Greek theatre, so that there may have been some difference between the various masks he describes, and those of the Roman stage, towards the end of the republic. The matron, virgin, and courtezan, he informs us, were particularly distinguished from each other by the manner in which their hair was arranged and braided. The mask of the parasite had brown and curled hair: That of the braggart captain had black hair, and a swarthy complexion[641]; and it farther appears from the engravings of masks in Ficoroni, that he had a distended or inflated countenance. The masks, likewise, distinguished the severe from the indulgent father—the Micio from the Demea—and the sober youth from the debauched rake[642]. If, in the course of the comedy, the father was to be sometimes pleased, but sometimes incensed, one of the brows of his vizard was knit, and the other smooth; and the actor was always careful, during the course of the representation, to turn to the spectators, along with the change of passion, the profile which expressed the feeling predominant at the time[643]. Julius Pollux has also described the dresses suited to each character: The youth was clad in purple, the parasite in black, slaves in white, the pander in party-coloured garments, and the courtezan in flowing yellow robes[644].
It would introduce too long discussion, were I to enter on the much-agitated question concerning the advantages and disadvantages of masks in theatric representations. The latter are almost too apparent to be enlarged on or recapitulated. It is obvious to remark, that though masks might do very well for a Satyr and Cyclops, who have no resemblance to human features, they are totally unsuitable for a flatterer, a miser, or the like characters, which abound in our own species, in whom the expression of countenance is more agreeable even than the action, and forms a considerable part of the histrionic art. Could we suppose that a vizard represented ever so naturally the general humour of a character, it can never be assimilated with the variety of passions incident to each person, in the whole course of a play. The grimace may be proper on some occasions, but it is too fixed and steady to agree with all. In consequence, however, of the great size of the ancient theatres, there was not so much lost by the concealment of the living [pg 353]countenance, as we are apt at first to suppose. It was impossible that those alterations of visage, which are hidden by a mask, could have been distinctly perceived by one-tenth of the 40,000 spectators of a Roman play. The feelings portrayed in the ancient drama were neither so tender nor versatile as those in modern plays, and the actors did not require the same flexibility of features—there were fewer flashes of joy in sorrow, fewer gleams of benignity in hatred. Hercules, the Satyrs, the Cyclops, and other characters of superhuman strength or deformity, were more frequently introduced on the ancient than the modern stage, and, by aid of the mask, were more easily invested with their appropriate force or ugliness. By means, too, of these masks, the dramatists introduced foreign nations on the stage with their own peculiar physiognomy, and among others, the Rufi persona Batavi. Their use, besides, prevented the frequenters of the theatre from seeing an actor, far advanced in years, play the part of a young lover, since the vizard, under which the performer appeared, was always, to that extent at least, agreeable to the character he assumed. In addition to all this, by concealing the mouth it prevented the spectators from observing whence the sound issued, and thus palliated the absurdity of one actor declaiming, and the other beating time, as it were by gestures. Finally, as the tragic actor was elevated by his cothurnus, or buskin, above the ordinary stature of man, it became necessary, in order to preserve the due proportions of the human form, that his countenance also should be enlarged to corresponding dimensions.
I shall here close the first Volume of the History of Roman Literature, in which I have treated of the Origin of the Romans—the Progress of their Language, and the different Poets by whom their Literature was illustrated, till the era of Augustus. At that period Virgil beautifully acknowledges the superiority of the Greeks in statuary, oratory, and science; but he might, with equal justice, (and the avowal would have come from him with peculiar propriety,) have confessed that the Muses loved better to haunt Pindus and Parnassus, than Soracte or the Alban Hill. From the days of Ennius downwards, the literature and poetry of the Romans was, with exception, perhaps, of satire, and some dramatic entertainments [pg 354]of a satiric description, wholly Greek—consisting merely of imitations, and, in some instances, almost of translations from that language. We may compare it to a tree transplanted in full growth to an inferior soil or climate, and which, though still venerable or beautiful, loses much of its verdure and freshness, sends forth no new shoots, is preserved alive with difficulty, and, if for a short time neglected, shrivels and decays.
END OF VOLUME I.
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