“‘Leva l’r.’ (Take away the r.)

“‘E-eh! e-e-e-h!’

with a shrug and a prolonged tone peculiarly Roman—indicative of an immense doubt as to Paradise, and little question as to the other place.

“Two years ago Pasquin represents himself as having joined the other plenipotentiaries at the conference of Zurich, where he represents the Court of Rome. Austria speaks German, France speaks French, neither of which languages Pasquin understands. On being interrogated as to the views of Rome, he answers that, being a priest, he only speaks Latin, not Italian; and that, in his opinion, is ‘Sicut erat in principio,’ etc. (As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end! Amen.)

“This is as pure a specimen of true Roman wit as can be found. Of a rather different and punning character was the epigram lately made upon the movement of the Piedmontese and Garibaldians on Naples and Sicily: ‘Tutti stanno in viaggio—soldati vanno per terra—marinari vanno per mare, e preti vanno in aria.’ (Everybody is in movement—the soldiers go by land, the sailors by sea, and the priests vanish into air.)

“And here too is another, full of spirit and point, which shall be the last in these pages. When the conference at Zurich was proposed, it was rumoured that Cardinal Antonelli was to go as the representative of the Roman States, and to be accompanied by Monsignor Barile, upon which Pasquin said, ‘Il Cardinale di Stato va via con Barile, ma tornerà con fiasco’—which is untranslatable.”[[32]]

There are several collections of Pasquinades in the British Museum, but none appear to extend over more than a single year. None are later than 1536. The collection for that year has the following MS. note (in English) on the fly-leaf: “The Author of these Pasquinades is quite unknown. They have little of the Petulance or Wit of that species of writing, and consist principally of grave and fulsome Compliments to the Emperor Charles 5th on his late Victories over the Moors in Africa.” There is, however, a humorous prose proclamation in Italian (the rest of the book is mostly in Latin), “in order to enrich simple men who waste their time in the practice of Alchemy.” To these persons he delivers ten commandments, such as, “Always to have a pair of bellows and keep it in its place, so that you may not have to send and borrow from the neighbours—to know the properties of metals—to use good earthenware—and to employ an honest lad who will stick to his work and not talk,” etc., etc.

About 1550 we find a curious little broadsheet entitled an “opera,” but more like a street ballad—a kind of proclamation, announcing that Pasquin has lost his nose, and is making search for it. In the course of the next century several prose works were issued under the name of Pasquin, which were mostly dialogues between Pasquin and Marforio. Many of them were translated into English, and appear to have enjoyed a wide popularity towards the end of Charles II.’s reign—which is not to be wondered at, if we remember that this was the era of the Popish plot, and that Pasquin is by no means sparing in his denunciations of the Roman clergy. The Visione Politiche were printed in 1671, probably at Geneva, and Pasquin risen from the Dead appeared in London in 1674. This book must have been popular, as at least one other translation was published. The version of 1674—the translator’s name is not given—is quaint and spirited; and the general tenor of the work may be gathered from the following extract:—

Pasquin. What, ho! Marforio! you’re in mighty haste, sure; what, not so much as vouchsafe a word to an old friend, but to pass by as though we had never seen one another before?

Marforio. God’s my life! what’s he that calls me? Sure I have known that voice. It must certainly be Pasquin that talks in that statue. And yet how can that be, since I am a witness of his death? ’Tis surely some ghost that would fain make me believe he is yet living. What would I give for some holy water to drive this devil away now!