MEMOIR OF METASTASIO.
THE name of the great dramatic poet, whose memoir we are about to sketch is so connected with the history of music, that it cannot be thought out of place in the biographical department of our work. We might almost plead his having been a musician as well as poet, were it necessary; but no excuse can be required for mixing with the lives of professors that of a genius to whose productions—which have called forth the talents of the greatest composers—the art itself is so much indebted.
PIETRO TRAPASSI was born at Rome on the 6th of January, 1698. His family, though at the time of his birth reduced to the straits of indigence, had for many years enjoyed, as opulent citizens, the freedom of the town of Assisi, the immunities of which were confined to thirty of the inhabitants only. But the times became altered, and Felice, the father of our bard, unable to procure a subsistence in his native place, enlisted into the ranks of the regiment of Corsi, and shortly afterwards married Francesca Galasti of Bologna. At the fulfilment of his service as a soldier, Felice found himself possessed of a small pittance which he had gained, while in garrison, by devoting his leisure hours to the laborious task of an amanuensis. With this he entered into partnership with a shopkeeper at Rome, in the petty trade called in Italy L’Arte bianca, or pastrycook. Succeeding tolerably in this undertaking, he was now enabled to place his two eldest sons, Leopoldo and the subject of this memoir, at a small grammar school, where the latter soon displayed that talent and enthusiasm for poetry, which so eminently distinguished his after life. ‘Before he was yet ten years old,’ says his biographer Dr. Burney, ‘he had the power of making verses extempore on any subject, and it was no unusual sight to see his father’s porch surrounded in the evening, after school hours, by admiring groups listening to the poesy of a child. During one of these tuneful fits, when Pietro was in his happiest mood, the celebrated lawyer and critic, Gravina, happened to pass by his father’s door, and was no less struck with the youth of the poet, than with the softness, yet brilliancy of his verse, the smoothness of his measure, and the sprightliness of his wit, which he employed, all’ improvvista, upon the people and objects that surrounded him. Drawing near, Gravina expressed his admiration, and offered him some money; the firm but polite refusal of his donation increased his admiration for the little bard, and he instantly formed the resolution of adopting him as his son. Pleased with this idea, he instantly solicited the consent of his parents; and as there was nothing humiliating, nothing unkind, in his proposal, Felice gladly complied. The next morning Pietro was consigned to the care and patronage of Gravina, who changed his name to Metastasio, as Μεταστασις (mutatio) seemed at once to include his family appellation and his situation as an adopted child.
And now having changed his name, Gravina applied himself to the more difficult task of altering, or at least improving, the bias of Metastasio’s mind. For this purpose he destined him to the study of the law as a profession, wishing rather that he should become an orator than a poet. This at first may appear strange; but Gravina well knew that, although the meed of praise may be the poet’s, wealth and affluence are still strangers to his door, and that, in Rome, riches are only to be acquired by the followers of the church and law.
Although Metastasio’s time was principally employed in the dry study of edicts and decrees, he was encouraged by his patron in the perusal of the best models of the ancient poets; and, at the early age of fourteen, we find him producing his tragedy of Giustino,—really an astonishing work for so mere a boy. After the appearance of this drama, written completely in the Grecian style, Gravina appears not only to have allowed, but even to have encouraged, his pupil’s adoration of the Muse; and when Metastasio was eighteen years old, we find Gravina accompanying him to Naples, for the express purpose of singing with the most celebrated improvvisatori of the day. No sooner had he appeared than he became a universal favourite. Nothing was heard of but the graces and dignity of his elocution, the inspiration of his expressive countenance, and the delightful harmony of his verse, which his hearers carried away in their memory like the dying cadence of a thrilling melody. Still with his poetical pursuits did he continue to study the law; and, to secure an opening into the only other road to preferment, entered into one of the minor orders of priesthood.
Two years after his arrival at Naples he had the misfortune to lose his patron, who died in 1718, in the fifty-fourth year of his age, leaving behind him a character more celebrated for his great classical learning, than for his poetry, upon which however he most prided himself; but the protection which he afforded to Metastasio does more honour to his memory than all the productions of his own pen. It has been a generally received opinion, that, however deeply his loss was deplored by our poet, the death of Gravina was a great benefit to his future fame, for it is supposed that, had he lived, his advice would have cramped his pupil’s ideas, disposed to all the pathos and beauty of passion and nature, with the rules and imitations of the Greek drama. Certain it is, however, that Metastasio mourned over his patron as a son; nor was his gratitude at all diminished, when by Gravina’s will, signed in 1718, he found himself sole master of all his property, consisting of 15,000 crowns, a superb library, and a small estate in the kingdom of Naples. The generosity of our poet’s disposition, however, soon ran through this possession; and two years after Gravina’s death, all that remained to him was an inconsiderable landed estate. Finding it, therefore, necessary to court some other genius than the Muse, he placed himself under the care of Paglietti, a man described as made up wholly of law, a bitter enemy to poetry, one who hated the sound of rhyme, and the very sight of a poet, and who was mercilessly intolerant of the slightest deviation from worldly prudence. For one year Metastasio applied himself with so much diligence to the labours imposed upon him by Paglietti, that he appears to have disappointed his suspicions, and even to have gained his confidence; but at the end of that time, we find him again sacrificing to the Muse his contract with the law. First appeared an Epithalamium, written at the request of the Countess of Althau, who likewise prevailed upon him to write the drama Endymion.
Under the patronage of the Viceroy of Naples, appeared Gli Orti Esperidi, (the Gardens of the Hesperides.) The drama was written during the hours devoted by Paglietti to the poet’s rest, and under the express promise that it should be kept a profound secret from the inexorable lawyer. His next drama was Angelica, of which the plot is taken from Ariosto. The Gardens of the Hesperides, which was played at Naples, was universally admired, and by none more than by the Signora M. Benti Bulgarini, better known by her prima-donna name of the Romanini. She was the first singer of her day, and played the part of Venus in that opera; and so delighted was she with its beauty, that she rested not until she had obtained an introduction to the author. On seeing him, the Romanini expressed at once her admiration and esteem, and warmly pressed him to renounce at once the dry study of the law, take up his abode under her husband’s roof, and devote his whole time, his whole energies, to the delights of friendship and the inspiration of the Muse. Adoring as he did, devoted as he was to poesy, who could at once resist the enthusiastic bent of his own mind, the seducing praise of flattering beauty?—certainly not Metastasio. Short was the struggle in his mind between Paglietti and the Romanini: willingly he accepted the offer, and from this time the courts of law were forgotten by him in the plaudits of the theatre.
His Didone Abandonnata was written at the request of the Romanini, to whom the poet is perhaps indebted for some of the finest dramatic incidents and effect. The celebrity which this opera obtained caused it to be set to music by the best composers for all the theatres of Italy, and consequently brought the author a large pecuniary reward, besides the extension of a name already widely spread. During his residence at Rome, whither he repaired with the Romanini in 1727, he finished several operas, the Semiramide, Artaserse, Egio, Alessandro nel Indie, and the Catone in Utica, all of which were received with high praise; but barren praise appears to have been all his reward—small indeed were his pecuniary gains.
Upon his first arrival at Rome, Metastasio, willing to repay the obligations under which he lay to the Bulgarini, took a house for the reception of the two families of the Bulgarini and Trapassi, and prevailed upon the Romanini to place herself, as more conversant with domestic affairs, at the head of his establishment. Upon these terms they lived till, in 1729, receiving an invitation from the court of Vienna, he repaired to Germany as coadjutor to Apostolo Zeno, the imperial laureate. This offer was the more gratifying as it came upon the recommendation of Zeno himself, who had enjoyed his post unrivalled for eleven years, and before the time of Metastasio, had written the best lyrical drama his country’s language could boast. No small praise, therefore, is due to his generosity in thus forwarding the views of a poet, whose works, he must have foreseen, would speedily eclipse his own. Nor was the yearly stipend of 3000 florins at all to be despised by Metastasio. At Rome he had almost suffered under the pressure of poverty, and often was obliged to have recourse to the munificence and generosity of his friend. To her, when he left Italy, he entrusted the entire charge of his affairs, together with a small sum left to her guidance for the temporary support of his father.