Praiseworthy reference is also made of Tarleton in “Kinde-Hart’s Dream,” 4to., published in 1592.  In 1611 a book was published entitled “Tarleton’s Jeasts.”  Tarleton was so celebrated in his time that his portrait was hung out as a sign for alehouses.  “To sit with Tarleton on an ale-post’s signe,” observes Bishop Hall in his satires.  Oldys, in his M.S. notes, mentions that “There is an alehouse sign of a tabor and pipe man, with the name of Tarleton under it, in the borough of Southwark, and it was taken from the print before the old 4to. book of ’Tarleton’s Jeasts;’ and Lord Oxford had a portrait of him with his tabor and pipe, which was probably taken from the pamphlet called ‘Tarleton’s Jeasts,’ on the title page of which there is a wooden plate of Tarleton, at full length in his Clown’s dress, playing on his pipe with one hand, and beating his drum with the other.”

These actors then (continues Mr. Disraeli), who were in the habit of exercising their impromptus, resembled those who performed in the unwritten comedies of the Italians.  Gabriel Harvey, the Aristarchus of the day, compliments Tarleton for having brought forward a new species of dramatic exhibition.  If this compliment paid to Tarleton merely alludes to his dexterity at extemporaneous wit in the character of the Clown, as my friend Mr. Douce thinks, this would be sufficient to show that he was attempting to introduce on our stage the Extemporal Comedy of the Italians, which Gabriel Harvey distinguishes as “a new species.”  As for these “Platts,” which I shall not venture to call “Scenarios,” they surprise by their bareness, conveying no notion of the piece itself, though quite sufficient for the actors.  They consist of mere exits and entrances of the actors, and often the real names of the actors are familiarly mixed with those of the dramatis personae.  Steevens has justly observed, however, on these skeletons, that although “The drift of these dramatic pieces cannot be collected from the mere outlines before us, yet we must not charge them with absurdity.  Even the scenes of Shakespeare would have worn as unpromising an aspect, had their skeletons only been discovered.”  The printed Scenarios of the Italian theatre were not more intelligible; exhibiting only the hints for scenes.

Thus, I think, we have sufficient evidence of an intercourse subsisting between the English and Italian theatres, not hitherto suspected; and I find an allusion to these Italian Pantomimes, by the great town-wit Tom Nash, in his “Pierce Pennilesse,” which shows that he was well acquainted with their nature.  He, indeed, exults over them, observing that our plays are “honourable and full of gallant resolution, not consisting, like theirs, of Pantaloon, a Zany, and a w—–­e (alluding to the women actors of the Italian stage); but of emperors, kings, and princes.”  My conviction is still confirmed, when I find that Stephen Gosson wrote the comedy of “Captain Mario;” it has not been printed, but “Captain Mario” is one of the Italian characters.