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Updated: June 5, 2025
Michel Angelo's Moses somehow belongs to Rome has Rome's grandeur, emphasis, and Rome's theatrical quality. All round are buried seventeenth-century prelates. Cinthio Aldobrandini, &c., setting forth glories, but with skeletons as supporters!
This wholly fills and absorbs his every waking thought, and, in consequence, he denies his daughter Elaria and his niece Bellemante to their respective lovers, the Viceroy's two nephews, Don Cinthio and Don Charmante, as being men of men of mere terrestial mould.
On this occasion Pinkethman played Harlequin; Hippisley, Scaramouch; Milward, Charmante; and Chapman, Cinthio. The farce was put on as a first piece at Covent Garden, 14 February, 1739. Pinkethman was Harlequin; Rosco, Scaramouch; Arthur, the Doctor; Hallam, Charmante; Hall, Cinthio; Mrs. James, Mopsophil; Mrs. Vincent, Elaria; and the fair Bellamy, Bellemante.
Enter Cinthio, from the Closet, pulls Charmante out, they not knowing each other. Cin. Oh, this perfidious Woman! No marvel she was so surpriz'd and angry at my Approach to Night. Cha. Doct. Enter Scaramouch with a Light, and seeing the two Lovers there, runs against his Master, puts out the Candle, and flings him down and falls over him.
In default of pleasant stories of filthy intrigue or lewd jest, men like Cinthio and Bandello will gabble off occasionally some tragic story, picked out of a history book or recently heard from a gossip: the stories of Harmodius and Aristogeiton, of Disdémona and the Moorish Captain, of Roméo Montecchio and Giulietta Cappelletti, of the Cardinal d'Aragona and the Duchess of Amalfi, of unknown grotesque Persian Sophis and Turkish Bassas stories of murder, massacre, rape, incest, anything and everything, prattled off, with a few words of vapid compassion and stale moralizing, in the serene, cheerful, chatty manner in which they recount their Decameronian escapades or Rabelaisian repartees.
If we be, I have taken order against a Discovery. Ela. I tremble, but know not whether 'tis with Fear or Joy. Enter Cinthio. Cin. Ha, shun my Arms, Elaria! Ela. Heavens! Why did you come so soon? Cin. Is it too soon, whene'er 'tis safe, Elaria? Ela. I die with Fear Met you not Scaramouch? He went to bid you wait a while; what shall I do? Cin. Why this Concern? none of the House has seen me.
What Intrigues, Sir? be quick, for I'm in haste. Cin. Who was the Lover I surpriz'd i'th' Closet? Scar. Deceptio visus, Sir; the Error of the Eyes. Cin. Thou Dog, I felt him too; but since the Rascal 'scaped me, I'll be reveng'd on thee. Char. Ha, What's the matter here? Scar. Char. What, Cinthio in a Rage! Who's the unlucky Object? Cin. All Man and Woman Kind: Elaria's false. Char.
Malicious Creature, when wilt thou cease to torment me, and either appear less charming, or more kind? I languish when from you, and am wounded when I see you, and yet I am eternally courting my Pain. Cinthio and I, are contriving how we shall see you to Night. Let us not toil in vain; we ask but your consent; the Pleasure will be all ours, 'tis therefore fit we suffer all the Fatigue.
At the entrance of the Candle, Charmante slipt from Cinthio into the Closet. Cinthio gropes to find him; when Mopsophil and Elaria, hearing a great Noise, enter with a Light. Cinthio finding he was discovered falls to acting a Mad-man, Scaramouch helps up the Doctor, and bows. Ha, a Man, and in my House, Oh dire Misfortune! Who are you, Sir? Cin.
Nay, he shall e'en remain as Heaven made him for me, since there are Men enough for all uses. Enter Charmante and Cinthio, dress'd in their Gothic Habits, Scaramouch, Harlequin and Musick. Charmante and Cinthio kneel. Cin. Can you forgive us? Bell. That, Cinthio, you're convinc'd, I do not wonder; but how Charmante is inspir'd, I know not. Char. Let it suffice, I'm satisfy'd, my Bellemante. Ela.
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