Their second Comedy was numerously attended, and I went among the rest.  I sat on the same bench by good fortune with Cavalier Bernini, Romanelli, and Guido, all well-known persons.  Salvator Rosa, who had already made himself a favourite with the Roman people, under the character of Formica, opened with a prologue in company with other actors.  He proposed for relieving themselves of the extreme heats and ennui that they should make a Comedy, and all agreed.  Formica (Rosa) then spoke (in the satirical Venetian dialect) these exact words, which Mr. Disraeli translates as follows:—­“I will not, however, that we should make a Comedy like certain persons who cut clothes, and put them on this man’s back, and on that man’s back; for at last the time comes which shows how much faster went the cut of the shears than the pen of the poet; nor will we have entering on the scene, couriers, brandy sellers, and goatherds, and there stare shy and blockish, which I think worthy the senseless invention of an ass.”

Passeri continues:  “At this time Bernini had made a Comedy in the Carnival very pungent and biting; and that summer he had one of Castelli’s performed in the suburbs, where, to represent the dawn of day, appeared on the stage water-carriers, couriers, and goat-herds, going about—­all which is contrary to rule, which allows of no character who is not concerned in the dialogue to mix with the groups.  At these words of the Formica, I, who well knew his meaning, instantly glanced my eye at Bernini, to observe his movements; but he, with an artificial carelessness, showed that this ‘cut of the shears’ did not touch him; and he made no apparent show of being hurt.  But Castelli, who was also near, tossing his head and smiling in bitterness, showed clearly that he was hit.”

In concluding, Mr. Disraeli observes that:  “This Italian story, told with all the poignant relish of these vivacious natives, to whom such a stinging incident was an important event, also shows the personal freedoms taken on these occasions by a man of genius, entirely in the spirit of the ancient Roman Atellanae or the Grecian Satyra.”

Of Extemporal Comedies, Riccoboni mentions that:  “This kind of spectacle is peculiar to Italy; one cannot deny that it has graces perfectly its own, and which written Comedy can never exhibit.  This impromptu mode of acting furnishes opportunities for a perpetual change in the performance, so that the same Scenario repeated still appears a new one:  thus one Comedy may become twenty Comedies. An actor of this description, always supposing an actor of genius, is more vividly affected than one who has coldly got his part by rote.  But figure, memory, voice, and even sensibility, are not sufficient for the actor all’ improvista; he must be in the habit of cultivating the imagination, pouring forth the flow of expression, and prompt in those flashes which instantly vibrate in the plaudits of an audience.”