Ut puerum sævo credas dictata magistro
Reddere, vel partes mimum tractare secundas.”
Some writers have supposed, that a Mime was a sort of monodrame, and that the partes secundæ, here alluded to by Horace, meant the part of the actor who gesticulated[533], while the other declaimed, or that of the declaimer[534]. It is quite evident, however, from the context of the lines, that Horace refers to the inferior characters of the Mime[535]. I doubt not that the chief performer assumed more than one character in the course of the piece[536], in the manner in which the Admirable Crichton is recorded to have performed at the court of Mantua[537]; but there were also subordinate parts in the Mime—a fool or a parasite, who assisted in carrying on the jests or tricks of his principal:—“C. Volumnius,” says Festus, “qui [pg 326]ad tibicinem saltârit, secundarum partium fuerit, qui, fere omnibus Mimis, parasitus inducatur[538];” and to the same purpose Petronius Arbiter,—
“Grex agit in scenâ Mimum—Pater ille vocatur,
Filius hic, nomen Divitis ille tenet[539].”
The performance of a Mime commenced with the appearance of the chief actor, who explained its subject in a sort of prologue, in order that the spectators might fully understand what was but imperfectly represented by words or gestures. This prolocutor, also, was generally the author of a sketch of the piece; but the actors were not confined to the mere outline which he had furnished. In one view, the province of the mimetic actor was of a higher description than that of the regular comedian. He was obliged to trust not so much to memory as invention, and to clothe in extemporaneous effusions of his own, those rude sketches of dramatic scenes, which were all that were presented to him by his author. The performers of Mimes, however, too often gave full scope, not merely to natural unpremeditated gaiety, but abandoned themselves to every sort of extravagant and indecorous action. The part written out was in iambic verse, but the extemporary dialogue which filled up the scene was in prose, or in the rudest species of versification. Through the course of the exhibition, the want of refinement or dramatic interest was supplied by the excellence of the mimetic part, and the amusing imitation of the peculiarities or personal habits of various classes of society. The performers were seldom anxious to give a reasonable conclusion to their extravagant intrigue. Sometimes, when they could not extricate themselves from the embarrassment into which they had thrown each other, they simultaneously rushed off the stage, and the performance terminated[540].
The characters exhibited were parts taken from the dregs of the populace—courtezans, thieves, and drunkards. The Sannio, or Zany, seems to have been common to the Mimes and Atellane dramas. He excited laughter by lolling out his tongue, and making asses’ ears on his head with his fingers. There was also the Panniculus, who appeared in a party-coloured dress, with his head shaved, feigning stupidity or folly, and allowing blows to be inflicted on himself without [pg 327]cause or moderation. That women performed characters in these dramas, and were often the favourite mistresses of the great, is evident from a passage in the Satires of Horace, who mentions a female Mime, called Origo, on whom a wealthy Roman had lavished his paternal inheritance[541]. Cornelius Gallus wrote four books of Elegies in praise of a Mime called Cytheris, who, as Aurelius Victor informs us, was also beloved by Antony and Brutus—“Cytheridam Mimam, cum Antonio et Gallo, amavit Brutus.” It appears from a passage in Valerius Maximus, that these Mimæ were often required to strip themselves of their clothes in presence of the spectators[542].
As might be expected from the characters introduced, the Mimes were appropriated to a representation of the lowest follies and debaucheries of the vulgar. “Argumenta,” says Valerius Maximus, “majore ex parte, stuprorum continent actus.” That they were in a great measure occupied with the tricks played by wives on their husbands, (somewhat, probably, in the style of those related by the Italian novelists,) we learn from Ovid; who, after complaining in his Tristia of having been undeservedly condemned for the freedom of his verses, asks—
“Quid si scripsissem Mimos obscœna jocantes?
Qui semper juncti crimen amoris habent;