- Performer Name:
- Sgricci
- Performance Venue:
- Paris
- Performance Date:
- 1824
- Author:
- Date Written:
- 1824
- Language:
- English
- Publication Title:
- La Belle Assemblée: or, Bell’s Court and Fashionable Magazine
- Article Title:
- Improvisation of the Tragedy of Bianco Capello, at Paris.
- Page Numbers:
- 29:172-75
- Additional Info:
- No. 186
- Publisher:
- Edward Bull
- Place of Publication:
- London
- Date Published:
- 1824
Text:
[172] In Le Courier de Londres*, of March 27, we find a singularly curious and interesting article, a translation of which we find impossible to withhold from our readers.
Italy, as is well known, boasts of a great number of improvisators. Some of these poets have arrived at Paris, where they have excited an admiration of their almost magical display of so wonderful an art; an art to which its professors are partly indebted to the peculiar character of the Italian language; the results of which, however, are not on that account less surprising. Hitherto the efforts of these inspired poets had rarely extended beyond the composition of lyric poems, odes, and dithyrambics — subjects which opened a vast field to the imagination, and presented greater facilities in the execution. The difficulties to be encountered in the improvisation of a tragedy appeared almost insurmountable. The announcement therefore of M. Sgricci, though many were incredulous, did not fail of attracting a numerous audience, and from the attestation of ear and eye-witnesses, he far exceeded the expectations even of those who entertained the most exalted opinion of his powers. Indeed it seems scarcely possible to conceive, even after witnessing his success, that the [173] talent of the Improvisatore should have attained such perfection.
M. Sgricci was perhaps the only person devoid of apprehension as to the result of this brilliant undertaking; and it may be said that he neglected nothing to render his triumph complete, and to leave no doubt on the minds of his audience of the superiority of his poetic genius. Above all, it was important for him to establish the fact, that no intelligence or correspondence existed between the Improvisatore and the persons who had the choice of the subject upon which he was to treat, and in this particular all are unanimous in rendering homage to his honour and integrity.
A committee, composed of Messrs. Raynouard, Lemercier, Ancelot, Briffaut, Soumet, Guiraud, Casimir Delavigne, Pichat, Lebrun, and Talma, were entrusted with the choice of various subjects to be proposed by the spectators, and it was to be decided by lot on which of these subjects the Improvisatore should treat. These were placed in a crystal urn, and having been examined by the committee, the following nineteen were reserved: — The Death of Agrippina, Tiberius, Hanno, the Vow of Jephtha, Jezabel, Socrates, Absalom, Seneca, Camilla, Ananias and Saphira, the Death of Stilico, the Death of Lucretia, Balthasar, Richard III., Hero and Leander, the Death of Nero, Judith, Pisani the preserver of Venice, and Bianca Capello.
A lady in the front boxes was invited to take by chance one of these billets, and the Death of Stilico was drawn. This subject, however, having engaged the attention of Corneille, did not satisfy the assembly; and another lady drew a billet which bore the title of Bianca Capello; which obtaining universal approbation, Talma was deputed to present it to M. Sgricci.
M. Sgricci, who during these proceedings had retired to an adjoining apartment, had been informed of the first choice: he had already embraced its outline, and when the substitute was announced, he expressed some regret at being obliged to relinquish a subject, on which his imagination had begun to exercise itself. He submitted, however, reflected for a moment, appeared seized with a sudden inspiration, and exclaimed with joy, “Allons, je suis dans mon pays.” He immediately advanced in front of the assembly, and with great distinctness related the story of Bianca Capello as recorded by history; he then pointed out the names of the persons whom he should introduce, and the manner in which he intended to employ the event in the construction of his tragedy.
The history of Bianca is nearly as follows: — Bianca Capello, a noble Venetian lady of great beauty, was carried off by a young Florentine, named Bonaventuri, to Florence, where she soon excited the attention of the Grand Duke, Francis de Medicis. This Prince overwhelmed the husband with presents, and succeeded in gaining the affections of the beautiful Venetian. Bonaventuri soon afterwards fell beneath the hands of assassins. This murder, to which it is pretended that Bianca gave her consent, was followed by her marriage with the Grand Duke. It is further related, that at a feast given by Francis de Medicis to his brother Ferdinand, the Duke and Duchess were poisoned. Historians have entertained various opinions as to the causes of this second crime: some have accused Ferdinand of his brother’s death; while others assert that Bianca, surnamed by Ferdinand the detestable Blanche, had prepared with her own hands a poisoned cake, which she destined for her brother-in-law; but the latter, suspecting her intention, refused to taste it. The Grand Duke, ignorant of her designs, ate the cake, and Bianca, finding her guilt discovered, poisoned herself with her husband.
It must not be forgotten, that several writers have affirmed that this guilty woman was addicted to magic, and that she gained the affections of the Grand Duke by means of certain philters which were known to her. It is also said that, at her death, her apartment was found filled with instruments of magic.
We shall now see in what manner M. Sgricci employed these materials. His dramatis personae are: Francesco, Duke of Florence; Ferdinand de Medicis, his brother; Bianca, wife of the Grand Duke; Laura, beloved by Ferdinand; Ulrica, the confidante and accomplice of Bianca; and Enrico, secretary of the Grand Duke. The scene lies in a country-house of the Medicis at Poggia Cajano.
In the first act Ferdinand is at Rome. It opens with Laura, who laments the absence of her lover, and expresses her fears lest the pleasures of that celebrated city should banish her from his memory. A painful dream increases her anxiety: she intreats the gods to restore him faithful to her arms, and invokes the moon to favour his return. Ulrica approaches, and Laura retires. Bianca enters in great disorder, and informs her confidante that she is in love with Ferdinand, and conjures her to consult the infernal powers as to the fate of her love. She obeys: the charm does not immediately operate, but at length a spirit appears. It is a female clothed in green, holding a flower in her hand. “It is Hope,” exclaims Ulrica; to which Bianca replies, “I wish not for HOPE, but for CERTAINTY.”
[174] After fresh incantations, a Fury appears and presents a cup to Bianca, with the words “Hope not for LOVE, expect but VENGEANCE.” This oracle, which prepares us for the denouement, leads Bianca to imagine that the crime she meditates will be crowned with success.
This terrible scene is followed by one of a milder character, in which M. Sgricci introduced a Hymn to Spring, which was received with unbounded applause.
The second act discovers the Grand Duke with his secretary Enrico. Ferdinand is returned from Rome, and Enrico informs his master of the enthusiastic joy with which he had been hailed by the people, and of the pompous reception given him by the senate and clergy. He paints in strong colours the inconstancy of the people, and endeavours to prejudice the Grand Duke against Ferdinand. The former would willingly diminish the high esteem in which his brother is held, until Enrico says, “As long as he shall live the crown will not be secure upon your head,” when he repels with indignation the guilty proposal. “Shall I,” he exclaims, “shall I, the father and governor of the people — shall I, whose duty it is to judge their actions, descend to such a crime; and, torn by remorse, and stained with a brother’s blood, could I dare to avenge the blood of the innocent? Go, monster! cease to importune me! May my power rather perish, than its splendour be tarnished by the thought of such a crime! Alas! could the scenes of my past life be re-acted, could I but efface that day whose remembrance fills me with horror —“
Enrico retires, leaving Francesco alone, a prey to remorse, and haunted by the image of the murdered Bonaventuri. Bianca appears, and interrogates her husband concerning the project against Ferdinand. The Grand Duke informs her of the favourable reception given to that Prince; upon which she hushes his suspicions by telling him that Ferdinand had said to the kneeling populace, “I am but the faithful subject of Francesco.” The Grand Duke is convinced of the loyalty of his brother; and, when the latter arrives, surrounded by priests who are singing hymns in his praise, he embraces him, and lavishes on him the tenderest caresses.
In the third act, Francesco, Ferdinand, and Bianca are discovered. Ferdinand offers up vows for the prosperity of his brother’s reign; and, in the ardent hope of seeing an heir to his crown, places round the neck of Bianca a cross which has received the benediction of the pope. This present, Bianca considers as a pledge of the sentiments with which she has inspired Ferdinand. The Duke and Duchess retire, and Ferdinand is joined by Laura. He speaks to her of his love; but she interrupts him to impart the anxiety under which she labours. She informs him that she has seen Bianca and Ulrica engaged in diabolical arts, and dreads the effects of their sorcery. Ferdinand in vain endeavours to calm her fears, and she quits him with the presentiment that they are threatened by some appalling danger.
After the departure of Laura, Ulrica enters, and announces to Ferdinand that Bianca desires a private interview with him after sunset. In this interval, a group of girls and boys, sent by Bianca, soothe his spirits by songs in honour of love.
In the fourth act, Ferdinand, for fear of surprise, conceals some of his guards in a thicket. Bianca appears. In this scene, the finest in the tragedy, M. Sgricci introduced several dramatic situations, which excited enthusiastic applause. From the very first, Bianca perceives that Ferdinand reposes no confidence in her faith. “What,” she exclaims,” dost thou scorn me? Is it then because I can reckon no kings amongst my ancestors? Know, that I am the daughter of a people of kings; that every nation trembles at the name of my country, whose empires extends over the ocean; that the ocean acknowledges herself as the spouse of my illustrious ancestors, that the crown of the haughty Thracian has trembled on his head, when one of the Capelli has unfurled the ensign of St. Mark.”
Bianca endeavours to create suspicions in the breast of Ferdinand, and, under the pledge of an oath, offers to reveal to him a secret. He hesitates, but at length takes the oath. She tells him that a murderer, instigated by his brother, is to assassinate him in his bed. Ferdinand refuses to believe his brother guilty of such a crime; but Bianca shows him a forged letter from the Duke, containing the order. He is still doubtful, and exclaims, “but why shouldst thou, who art great but through him alone, who art queen only through him, why shouldst thou wish to preserve my life? If my just vengenance [sic] should deprive him of life, wouldst thou not fall to the dust whence he has raised thee?” — “And wouldst thou,” Bianca replies, “leave me then in the dust? Wouldst thou not restore me to the throne which I sacrifice for thee?” Ferdinand is indignant, which Bianca perceiving, avows her passion. He repulses her with scorn, and leaves her a prey to fury and despair. She conceives a horrible revenge. “Let us,” she exclaims to Ulrica, “ruin Ferdinand, body and [175] soul; if he escape me on earth, he shall not escape me in hell!”
In the fifth act, Laura is discovered at her harp. Ferdinand enters, and she inquires the cause of his disordered appearance; but his oath prevents him from imparting to her the particulars of his interview with Bianca. Whilst she is urging an explanation, dreadful cries are heard, and Ulrica is brought in torn by a wild beast. In her dying moments she is seized with remorse, and confesses to Ferdinand the project which Bianca has formed of poisoning him. The Grand Duke returns from the chase; and, delighted at meeting with his brother, leads him to the hall, where a banquet has been prepared. At the same instant Bianca appears at the bottom of the stage, holding in her hand a cup, and eagerly demanding of her husband whether he has drunk of its contents. He replies, that, on his return from the chase, being much heated, he had quenched his thirst from that cup. Bianca, convinced that heaven is about to punish her guilt, by permitting her accomplice to fall a victim to an additional crime which she had meditated, swallows the remainder of the poison, exclaiming: “I have lived as a fury, and like a fury I descend to hell. Heaven is as brass to me,” she adds, “but I fear not hell — my crimes will astonish the prince of darkness.”
Francesco, already in the agonies of death, implores Ferdinand to lead him from so horrible a scene, and dies in extending his hand to his brother.
“He is no more!” exclaims Ferdinand; “he is no more! the diadem passes from his brow to mine, and crime conducts me to the throne. O, envied splendour! thou dazzlest mankind, but canst thou satisfy their desires? Art thou of so great value, that for thee we should divest ourselves of our best affections? I seat myself on a throne, in the midst of crimes and tombs; but my heart is pure, my hand is pure. Oh, may remorse be ever far from me! With remorse a crown is poison, and a throne is death.”
This brief analysis is sufficient to excite a high opinion of the poetic talent of M. Sgricci. Scarcely can the imagination be persuaded, that a man can embrace, at one time, so much knowledge and erudition. We have been witnesses of this wonderful achievement (observes the writer) and our admiration has been shared by a numerous and select audience; but we assert, that it is necessary to witness this miraculous improvisation, to be able to form an idea of the labour which it causes the mind of the poet at the moment of composition. The arrangement of the subject, the distribution of the scenes, the characters of the individuals, the development of the various passions by which they are animated – all these combinations, which in general require great application and study, are effected by him with the rapidity of thought.
With regard to the style of this tragedy, it would be impossible to judge by a single recitation: it, however, appeared to us invariably poetic and pure, energetic and mild, according to the different situations and characters of the respective speakers. It is, we repeat, a literary phenomenon, which excites no less surprise than enthusiasm. We may apply to the improvisation of such a tragedy, what has been said of the birth of Minerva: “Elle sort tout armée de son cerveau.” — She sprang all armed from his brain!
* A French newspaper, published in London every Tuesday and Friday evening; and which, from the variety of its information, and general good arrangement, we feel pleasure in recommending to the notice of our readers.
Notes:
- Collected by:
- EW