Louis Simond, A Tour in Italy and Sicily

Performer Name:

Sgricci

Performance Venue:

Rome

Performance Date:

 

Author:

Simond, Louis

Date Written:

 

Language:

English

Publication Title:

A Tour in Italy and Sicily

Article Title:

 

Page Numbers:

126-7, 267-73

Additional Info:

 

Publisher:

 

Place of Publication:

London

Date Published:

1828

Text:

[126] The talent of improvvising is by no means confined to a few; even the common people in their moments of festivity, and when elevated with company and wine (for Italians do drink wine), often burst into measured and harmonious strains on subjects furnished by unforeseen circumstances: when one is tired, another takes up the theme, following the same train of ideas. This astonishing abundance could not stand the test of criticism if the verses were committed to writing; those even of the improvvisatori who have distinguished themselves have rarely succeeded afterwards as poets. I understand that Metastasio has been heard to lament that he had ever indulged a propensity which produces a laxity of composition difficult to overcome. Such is the facility, the natural sweetness and harmony of the language, that persons the least suspected of a poetical turn are found to improvvise all at once with success. Mrs. F- described to us her surprise at hearing her husband thus suddenly inspired one day whilst at dinner with his friends, no circumstance during many years of his society having ever led her to suppose that he was so gifted. The faculty is, however, daily becoming less common, like all other features and peculiarities which distinguish the various nations of [127] Europe, but which, especially within the last thirty years, are perceptibly wearing away.

[…]

[267] Upon the whole, the art of improvvising had answered my expectations, which were not very high; but yesterday they were much exceeded, when we heard the wonder of the day, now at Rome, Signor Tommaso Sgricci. When the company had assembled, subjects were requested, and given by a variety of persons, mostly foreigners, who were known to us, and could not have an understanding with the improvvisatore. Those subjects, written on slips of paper, were thrown into a box, which was sent round, to ladies principally; and those who chose (they happened to be foreigners) drew the subjects, four in number, on [268] which the improvvisatore was to exert his talents that night. He then (Tommaso Sgricci) entered the room; for these arrangements had been made in his absence, and I own I was strongly prepossessed against him at first. We beheld a well-made little man, about twenty-five years old, with the shuffling gait and mincing step of a woman in man’s clothes, wearing nice yellow morocco shoes, with white pantaloons and waistcoat; showing a lily white hand, with diamonds sparking on all his fingers, and an embroidered shirt collar falling over his shoulders, and leaving his neck bare. His handsome expressive face was shaded with an abundance of black hair and luxuriant whiskers. He took the subjects and read them over. They were, “The dispute about the armour of Achilles;” “The creation of the world;” and “Sophonisba;”—I forget the fourth.

He paused and then began, without recitative, singing, or musical accompaniment of any sort, and went on without hesitation or seeming effort, only occasionally repeating the same verse twice over. The two first subjects took him an hour and a half, with very little pause between. I lost too much to give any opinion on what he said, the manner taking my attention at first more than the matter, and that manner was admirable; his voice, action, and expression of countenance, were those of a good actor knowing his part thoroughly, and full of its spirit. I felt uneasy a long while, thinking he could not go on thus fluently and easily, and must come to a full stop, be lost in difficulties, and tumble down from the giddy height. Sometimes I surmised that this must be a studied part, and an imposition on our credulity; yet when I recollected how the subjects had been given, and submitted to [269] chance afterwards, I was satisfied that collusion was impossible. The attention of the Italians was riveted upon him; yet their applause was neither too frequent nor indiscriminate; it burst out now and then with great violence, but in general they were silent.

If we had been astonished at Sgricci’s two first extempore poems, how much more so were we when he gave us a tragedy in three acts, on the story of Sophonisba, stating first his dramatis personæ: viz. Sophonisba, and Syphax her husband; Massinissa and Scipio; Sophonisba’s female attendant Barca, and a Roman soldier. One of the audience, a lady of our party, better skilled in Italian than myself, wrote from memory the following account of the tragedy, which was shown to an Italian present at the performance, and thought correct.

“Barca enters lamenting the misfortunes of her mistress, whom she says she has left in her bed paler than the sheets on which she reclines; while her women are preparing her bridal ornaments, she, wrapped in her mourning garments, heeds them not. Sophonisba herself then enters, confesses that she has fervently loved Massinissa, but abhors the idea of uniting herself to the enemy of her country. Massinissa appears transported with joy at the thought of obtaining Sophonisba; she endeavours to persuade him to forsake the Romans, and become the friend of Carthage. He asks for what quality she formerly loved him;—it was not for a fine face or a strong arm, but for a faithful and an honest heart; and what should he be if he deserted the Romans, and Scipio, the friend to whom he owed every thing! He then urges every argument to prevail with her to be his; and at last the victorious one, of its [270] being the only means to save herself from being led in triumph to Rome. This is decisive, and she appears rather relieved in being led to think that her duty and inclination coincide. The ceremony is actually taking place, and they are exchanging vows before the altar of Juno, when they are interrupted by a Roman soldier, who commands them in the name of Scipio and of the Roman people to stop. Massinissa replies that Scipio is his friend, not his master; that he will sacrifice his life, but not his love to him. Scipio himself then appears, and Sophonisba retires. The Roman argues against a union which will render Massinissa the enemy of Rome: the latter then draws the most beautiful picture of his mistress, of her virtues, of her faith, and declares that he cannot abandon her. Scipio yields, though, he says, at the risk of incurring the indignation of the Roman people.

“Barca now occupies the scene. A warrior in disguise presents himself to her; he demands an interview with Sophonisba, and gives a ring to be delivered to her. She knows the ring for that of Syphax, and comes. The warrior tells her that her husband in expiring had commanded him to offer her an asylum,—a poor one it must be. She refuses to follow him; says perhaps he himself may have been the assassin of Syphax, or have possessed himself by treachery of the ring. He lifts his vizard, and shows that he is Syphax. She almost faints at the discovery. He tells her that he is aware she never loved him, that obedience, not choice, had made her his; but asks her, if now that he is abandoned by all, she too will forsake him? After a momentary struggle she answers, No! she will follow him. He then tells her of a subterranean passage lead- [271] ing from the temple of Jupiter to the sea; that he has a little bark that will carry them safe from their enemies, and that at midnight he will expect her. Massinissa, however, is impatient to receive Sophonisba’s vows, and the altar is prepared; but before proceeding further, she writes to Syphax, swears fidelity to him, and renews her promise to fly with him at the appointed hour; commits her letter to Barca, who says she knows the passage well.

“Scipio and a Roman soldier now occupy the scene. The latter tells the former, that having by chance entered a certain passage to the sea-side, a woman had met him, had given him this note, accompanied with some mysterious words, and had disappeared, seeming glad to have executed her commission, and that he thought it his duty to bring the paper. The general praises the soldier, and promises reward. He reads the letter; and though rejoiced at the contents, pours out a great deal of common-place abuse on women in general, and Sophonisba in particular. Massinissa in the mean time hurries his bride to the altar of Juno: she is swearing to him all the love and all the faith she has a right to give him, when Scipio enters and gives the fatal letter. The ceremony is interrupted, Sophonisba retires, and Massinissa in transports of rage swears to murder the lover in her arms. Midnight arrives, Syphax appears; he is attacked and mortally wounded by Massinissa, and suspects for a moment that Sophonisba has betrayed him. But she appears, throws herself down beside him, swears not to survive, and kills herself.”

The improvvisatore never mentioned the name of the interlocutors; but the change of tone, and fre- [272] quently also the change of place, rendered such announcements unnecessary. He used the heroic Italian blank verse of eleven syllables; but in the chorus, which recurred several times, he used all sorts of measure, from four to twelve syllables. The tragedy lasted two hours and a half; he died twice in the course of it: once on the floor, to suit the English taste, I presume; and once in an arm-chair, in the French decorous manner; both times with appropriate action, very energetic, but very natural and graceful, and never outré. His fine tones were quite free from the guttural r, r, r, with which the Italians are apt to spoil their sweet harmonious language. He forgot the coxcomb in the transports of the poet; and never once, I really believe, thought of his rings or watch-chain during the whole time. His great fault was abundance. Had he had a little time to consider, I have no doubt he would have been much more terse and effective. Yet this very abundance excites astonishment; for who would undertake to construct verses, even nonsense verses, in correct measure during two hours and half? And when it is considered that instead of nonsense a regular plot was contrived and carried through, although perhaps with the help of recollections as well as invention, and that the story was, in this instance, not only always plain and intelligible, but often told with great force and eloquence, so as to draw sudden busts of applause from an audience generally cool and silent,—the thing appears almost miraculous. At the conclusion there was a rush of a number of admirers towards the poet, and he was carried off among them in a sort of spontaneous triumph!

Tommaso Sgricci is the son of an advocate of Arezzo. [273] He was educated at the University of Pisa, or rather that branch of it established at Florence, and was intended for the law; but his love of poetry and peculiar talent for improvvising, which almost all Italians attempt in their juvenile days, has at length made him a sort of professor of the art, and he is deemed by most of his countrymen to excel any improvvisatore that ever was known. Young men who have been his companions at college, told me that his conversation was poetry itself; that he was well informed on most subjects, but particularly versed in the belles lettres. They admit that he is a great coxcomb, effeminate in his dress and manners, and addicted to admiring himself in a mirror: yet his course of thinking and language is represented to be the very reverse of his manners, and much in the style of Alfieri. In his early life he was something of a Jacobin, as most political schoolboys are; and lately having been accused of praising Buonaparte, he replied with great warmth, “that he praised no kings.” M. Sgricci has adopted this exhibition has a trade: a scudo is paid for a ticket of admission; yet he will not speak on a stage, but borrows rooms in a palace for the night—Such are the niceties of pride!

Notes:

Collected by:

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