Doubtless this summary of Lo Spirito fails to bring out any convincing parallelisms between it and Beppo; and it must be granted at once that the alleged relationship is somewhat elusive. But there are some features common to the two poems: an easy-going tolerance towards gallantry and the social vices; a pretence of taking the reader into the author’s confidence; a general lack of formality and rigidity in stanza structure; and a witty and burlesque manner of turning phrases. Although one or two of these characteristics had appeared singly in Byron’s work before 1818, they had appeared in conjunction in no poem of his previous to Beppo, with the possible exception of The Devil’s Drive, which was not in ottava rima. Obviously he could not have learned the secret of this new mood from Frere. Thus, when we consider that until Byron’s acquaintance with Casti’s work, this specific quality of mockery had not existed in his satire, we have reason for thinking that he was indebted to some extent to the Italian poet. Somehow the English writer, once a pretended defender of clean morals, began to take a tolerant attitude towards lapses from virtue; he changed from formal and dignified discourse to a style easy and colloquial; and he partly abandoned savage invective for scornful and ironic mockery. In Beppo we realize the full purport of the transformation which had been taking place in Byron’s satiric mood ever since his return from Greece. Credit for this development must be given partly to Moore and partly to Frere; but it must be assigned even more to Casti, who first put Byron in touch directly with the Italian burlesque spirit.
If only the Novelle were considered, however, Byron’s obligation to Casti would be confined chiefly to Beppo, for in his tales the Italian seldom leaves his theme, as Byron does in Don Juan, to assail individuals or institutions. He touches lightly on the weaknesses of human nature, on the frailties and illicit indulgences of full-blooded men and women, but he is swayed by no impelling purpose, and he wants the fundamental seriousness of the genuine satirist. Byron, on the other hand, in Beppo, and still more in Don Juan, never quite forgot the vituperative vigor which he had shown in English Bards.
But before he had seen the Novelle, Byron had read Gli Animali Parlanti, a mammoth work which, in its scope, in its antipathies, and in its manner, has some likeness to Don Juan. Published first in Paris in 1802, it was pirated in a London edition a year later, and before long had been translated into several languages. An English version in a greatly abridged paraphrase appeared in 1816 under the title The Court of Beasts, in seven cantos, without the translator’s name.[203] The same volume, with revisions and additions, was reprinted in 1819 as The Court and Parliament of Beasts,—freely translated, by Wm. St. Rose.
The Italian poem in three parts and twenty-six cantos is written, not, as has been often taken for granted, in the ottava rima, but in the less common sesta rima, a stanza of six endecasyllabic lines, rhyming ababcc. As its title suggests, it is a beast epic, an elaboration of the fables of Æsop and La Fontaine; but the allegory veils deliberate and continuous satire. In his prose preface, Casti explains his object as being the presentation, with talking animals as actors, of “un quadro generale delle costumanze, delle opinioni, e dei pregiudizi dal pubblico adottati, riguardo al governo, all’ amministrazione ed alla politica degli Stati, come delle passioni dominanti di coloro, che in certe eminenti e pubbliche situazioni collocati si trovano, colorandolo con tinte forti, ed alquanto caricate, le quali facilmente ne relevino l’expressione—un quadro in somma della cosa, e non delle persone.” Casti, then, planned a comprehensive satire on his own age, and despite his assertion that his poem is “a picture of things, and not of persons,” his real object was, like Byron’s, to “play upon the surface of humanity.”
The actual plot of Gli Animali Parlanti may be briefly told. The animals gather to organize a scheme of government, and, deciding on an hereditary monarchy, choose the lion for their king. At his death, a regency, headed by the lioness, is established for his son, and conspiracy and corruption develop. The dog, the first Prime Minister, is superseded by the wolf, and becomes a rebel. Civil war ensues, and when, at length, all the conflicting parties unite for a conference, they are destroyed by a terrible storm. This, of course, is the barest outline of the story; the framework is filled out by argument and criticism by the various protagonists, many of whom, notably the dog, the horse, and the bear, represent political factions, conservative, moderate, and progressive. No small amount of satire lies in the actions and speeches of the beasts, who are intended to represent different types of humanity; their court is a mirror of the courts of western Europe, and the abuses which pervade it are those which Casti had seen on his travels. The animals are, in all save external appearances, like men.
Not enough of a reformer to evolve remedies, Casti was, nevertheless, alert in detecting faults in the inert institutions of his time and daring in his methods of assailing them. His poem, thus, is a hostile picture of politics and society in the Europe of the latter half of the eighteenth century, painted by a man who had studied his subject from a cosmopolitan standpoint. Gli Animali Parlanti is a radical document, designed to expose the flaws in existing systems. Even fads and foibles are not beneath its notice. It jeers at the academies so popular in Italy in Casti’s youth, especially the notorious Accademia dell’ Arcadia[204]; it makes sport of pedants and antiquaries[205]; it scorns literary and political sycophants[206]; it is bitter against theological quibbles, against monks,[207] and against superstitious practices.[208] Throughout it all runs Casti’s hatred of despotism, and his dislike of hypocrisy and cant. It is not, indeed, unfair to Byron to declare that the scope of Gli Animali Parlanti is, in some respects, as broad and comprehensive as that of Don Juan.
It is interesting, as far as the material of Casti’s poem is concerned, to notice that Casti is an advocate of what were to be some of Byron’s pet theories. For both men liberty is a favorite watchword. The horse, who seems to be spokesman for Casti himself, cries out,
“Noi d’ogni giogo pria liberi, e sciolti,”[209]
an assertion exactly in the spirit of Byron’s words,
“I wish men to be free