“And let those that play your clowns speak no morethan is set down for them,” admonished Hamlet inhis advice to the actors, “for there be of them thatwill themselves laugh to set on some quantity ofbarren spectators to laugh too, though in the meantime some necessary questions of the play be then tobe considered. That’s villanous, and shows a mostpitiful ambition in the Fool that uses it.”

Hamlet’s defense of the dramatic art against thecomic intrusions of the clowns no doubt reflects thesentiments of many playwrights. Throughout thehistory of the theater, the clown has insisted on beinghis own boss, placing far more trust in the art ofimprovisation than in the words of any author.

The clown is found in most forms of theater — inOriental dance-dramas as well as darkShakespearean tragedies. Performing for money infront of a new audience every night, the theaterclown may be denied the clear social function ofthe court jester or the ritual buffoon, yet hisrelationship with the spectators is still remarkablydirect. Often he will step out of the play andcomment upon it, appearing to be as much a partof the audience as of the drama. The theater clown is a popular comic actor, buthe is also a fool who is free to ignore all dramatic conventions while at the sametime taking part in the story on stage.

— Chapter Two —

The Clown to the Stage

©1976, John Towsen

Jean-Gaspard Deburau, the Pierrot of theThéâtre des Funambules. Courtesy of theTheatre Collection, New York Public Li-brary at Lincoln Center. Astor, Lenox, andTilden Foundations.

Asian Theatre Clowns

One of the world’s most ancient forms of theater is the Sanskrit drama of India.The plays are essentially dramatizations of episodes from the classic Hindu epics,the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, and most of the dialogue is written inSanskrit, the learned language of the gods and kings. There are no clowns in theoriginal epics, but when these religious stories are performed on stage, a lion’sshare of the action is turned over to the clown-servant, Vidusaka, whose namemeans “one given to abuse.” In many Sanskrit dramas, in fact, it seemsincongruous for the play’s spiritual hero to have chosen a buffoon like Vidusakaas his servant and confidant. The Sanskrit playwrights, however, must have beenaware of the clown’s popularity with audiences.

Vidusaka is characteristically a bald dwarf, with projecting teeth and red eyes.He speaks Prakrit, the everyday dialect of women and of the lower classes, andconsequently is often needed to explain the action to the many spectatorsunfamiliar with Sanskrit. The Natyasastra, a classic Hindu treatise on drama,describes Vidusaka as being of the highest caste, yet “ludicrous alike in dress,speech, and behavior.” Although loyal to his master, Vidusaka is gluttonous,clumsy, and easily duped. He is known for his feeble attempts at wit and humor,and in any verbal sparring he invariably comes off second best. His own personalbrand of happiness might be summed up by one of his favorite songs: “Blessedthose that are drunk with drink, blessed those that are soaked with drink; blessedthose that are washed with drink, blessed those that are choked with drink.” (1)

Vidusaka is often seen in the company of another comic character, Vita, a ratherwitty parasite hired primarily for the amusement of his patron, much like a jesterat court. This comic juxtaposition of a clever rogue (Vita) and a slow-wittedbuffoon (Vidusaka) appears in most clowning. We can discover similar comedyteams in Chinese and Balinese drama, in the comic theater of the West, and insuch modern film equivalents as Abbott and Costello.

In the texts of these Sanskrit dramas, the clown’s role may be quite small, butin the actual performance — where elements of mime and improvisation playsuch a large role — his relative importance is likely to be magnified. Episodesthat do not read well can become hilarious when performed by a talented clown.This is just as true of other forms of Asian drama. In one Chinese play (Hung-li-chi), for example, a drunken-servant scene originally intended to last a fewminutes at most is often enriched and expanded by the clown into a half hour ofnonstop comedy.

In Chinese theater, the clown, or ch’ou role,is one of four basic character types. Althoughthe ch’ou is formally considered to have thelowest rank of the four, in actual performancehe plays a far more significant role. There iseven a popular legend that the Tang emperorhimself used to play the ch’ou role, which mayexplain the old tradition forbidding the otheractors from applying makeup before theclown has first dabbed some white onto hisface.

As was true of Sanskrit drama, the clownin the Chinese theater traditionally has beenthe only actor to speak in colloquial idiom, andoften the patter includes ribald jests andtopical allusions not found in the original text.In terms of acting, the Chinese clowns aresubdivided into two types, the wen ch’ou, whodisplay considerable verbal wit, and the wuch’ou, who are noted for their skillfulacrobatics. The clown’s makeup usuallyconsists of a few black marks and a symmetrical white patch around the eyesand nose, which will vary in size according to the specific character portrayed— servant, go-between, or military officer, for example.

It was in the regional theaters of China that the clown became the real hero ofthe play. Rural audiences apparently identified more readily with the clown’sirreverent humor and use of local idiom than did the more sophisticated courtaudiences of Peking. The provincial clown also could afford to be more daringpolitically than his urban counterpart, precisely because he was removed fromthe center of power. In Peking Opera, for example, the emperor usually wasplayed by an actor of elderly hero roles, whereas in the provincial theater of far-off Szechuan he was more likely to be portrayed as a clown.

In the Szechuan theater, in fact, many characters were seen as clowns. The roleof the emperor would fall into one of the most popular categories, that of theclown-dignitary. Usually the clown mimicked the dry elocution and stiltedgestures of a bombastic (and often evil) scholar, ruler, or aristocrat. The dignitarywas sometimes even presented as a puppet, or performed by a dwarf-clown; the“dwarf” was often a normal-sized actor who moved about in a squatting position.

Chinese clown as storyteller. Photograph from A.C.Scott, The Theatre in Asia, by permission ofWeidenfeld and Nicolson.

Other Szechuan clowns, among them a widerange of comic servants, are quite similar tostereotypes associated with European andAmerican comedy. The dandy-clown, forexample, caricatures a young would-begentleman who tries to fake sophisticationand self-confidence, but who inevitably isshown to be a phony boor. Lazy parasites,comical old women, and country yokels arealso popular Szechuan clown figures. Thecountry bumpkin is especially noted for hislocal allusions and ability to communicatedirectly with the rural audience. (2)

The function of the clown is strikinglysimilar throughout the rest of the Asiancontinent, perhaps as a result of the diffusionof Chinese and Indian culture, or perhapssimply because clowns will be clowns. InBurmese “spirit plays” (nibhatkin), the clownsare cast in the major roles, and are givenabsolute freedom to improvise. In the still-popular temple drama of Kerala, at the southern tip of India, the clown is likewisea comic servant who speaks the local vernacular, interpreting the ancient dialectspoken by the other actors. Javanese wayang kulit (shadow puppet) performancescan last eight or nine hours, but often a third of the audience will leave after theclowns finish their last big scene some five hours into the show. In the Javanesereligion, the clown is viewed not only as man’s servant, but also as his guardianspirit, the eldest descendant of “He that is One” (God). In the drama, however,the clown represents the realistic view of life rather than the idealistic. Balinesedance-drama is a sacred art, yet the clowns’ behavior is anything but holy.Arriving too late with the ceremonial umbrellas, they blasphemously hold themupside down — an act equivalent to dragging one’s national flag in the mud.

These Balinese clowns, like those of India and China, also tend to come in pairs,one clever and verbal, the other physical and rather stupid. Bali’s most famousclowns are called Penasar and Kartala. To perform their roles well, they must befirst-rate parodists and acrobatic dancers. Penasar is a somewhat pretentiousmale servant, known for his good voice, who serves both as master of ceremoniesand as an interpreter of the hero’s lofty speech. Kartala’s foolishness, in the formof pranks played on the pompous Penasar, brings about, a series of comicsituations. He imitates Penasar’s walk, “accidentally” trips him, misunderstands

Szechuan country bumpkin clown (yen-tzu-ch’ou)applying makeup for Autumn River. Photographfrom London University, Bulletin of the School ofOriental and African Studies (1965).

his orders, and often gets himinvolved in crazy schemes thatare guaranteed to backfire. Inthe end, they are both shownto be hopeless cowards,forever trying to escape fromreal or imagined dangers.

It has not been uncommon inAsian drama for the clown’simportance to increase, whilethat of the aristocratic herodeclines proportionally. TheJavanese clown, Semar, forexample, is often seen as asymbol of the peasantry.Although his character is thatof a fool, he succeeds in givingthe impression that the heroesof the play are themselveslittle more than over-bredfools. In the ludrug, a more recent form of Javanese popular comedy, the action istotally dominated by Semar and the other clowns, with the story serving as amere framework for their antics.

In contemporary Asian drama, the clown’s freedom to improvise within thestructure of the play has made him an important instrument of political satire.In many cases, all dramatic texts have to be approved by the government censorbefore production, and consequently the clown’s spontaneous remarks mayrepresent the only opportunity for free expression. “Although it is forbidden,”wrote James Brandon in the 1960s, “I have heard clowns make jokes about thesoaring price of rice and about corrupt officials in wayang and ketoprak plays,about cruel officials who take advantage of the ‘little man’ in cai luong plays,about venial monks in Cambodian lakon bassac plays, and about high officialswho milk the public treasury to support vast numbers of mistresses in likay plays.The chief clown of a large cai luong troupe spent some time in a Saigon jail formaking a remark that was interpreted as being disrespectful to Madame Nhu,and in Indonesia, a wayang orang clown was sent to jail for implying Sukarnowas wasting the country’s money.” (3)

Mimes, Jongleurs, and Minstrels

Four comic masks from Balinese Topeng drama. Photograph from Berylde Zoete and Walter Spies, Dance and Drama in Bali, by permission ofFaber & Faber.

The Western tradition of theater begins, not with the tragedies of Aeschylus andthe comedies of Aristophanes, but with short farces created and performed bytroupes of itinerant clowns and acrobats in the Dorian states of ancient Greece.These comic actors were seen in Sparta as early as the seventh century B.C. andwere called deikelistai-”those who put on plays.” From the very beginning, theywere associated with jugglers, tumblers, and ropedancers, from whom they nodoubt derived the concept of the professional entertainer. And although thesestrolling players were the first actors whose existence can be traced with anycertainty, it is not difficult to imagine similar forms of popular comedy beingenjoyed thousands of years ago in other parts of the world as well.

Aristotle traces the sophisticated plays of Aristophanes (c. 448-380 B.C.) backto this form of “low” comedy as popularized in the Dorian city of Megara. Butthe highbrow Athenian playwrights, while borrowing various comic devicesfrom the Megareans, nevertheless held their “vulgar” humor in contempt. “Don’texpect anything great and wonderful from us,” warns the prologue toAristophanes’ The Wasps. “Don’t look for merriment stolen from Megara.” (4)

These Dorian clowns— as well as the shortplays they performed —came to be known asmimes (mimos). Todaymime is usually equatedwith pantomime, the artof silent acting, butoriginally the word meant“to imitate” and referredto the performer’s talentfor caricature; the ancientmimes were in fact quitetalkative.

Little of the earlyhistory of the mimes hasbeen preserved because,despite their appeal to alarge segment of thepopulation, their brand ofhumor was not welcomeat the official theater

Fools in Greek mime. Courtesy of the British Museum.

festivals honoring Dionysus until about 300 B.C. Furthermore, most of the playswere short skits created by the performers themselves and not by playwrights.Much of the dialogue apparently was improvised, and since the actors saw littleneed to preserve in writing what was said on stage, these comic dramas neverbecame dramatic literature.

The loose plots of these mimic farces were woven around scenes fromeveryday life and burlesques of Greek mythology. Domestic quarrels provedespecially popular, as did thievery, fighting,sexual exploits, and all sorts of trickery. Thecharacters were familiar stock types: braggartsoldiers, pompous doctors and philosophers,larcenous slaves and servants, witch-like oldwomen, rustics, go-betweens, bald-headedfools (the moros), bearded old men, and evenanimals. Mixed in with this cross section ofsociety were the mighty Greek gods themselves— Zeus, Hercules, Apollo, and Dionysus,among others — who were brought down toearth and subjected to the same sort of comicabuse. It was considered particularly hilariousfor a country yokel to meet the heroic Odysseusand naively treat him as an equal.

The actors used realistic props andperformed on platform stages, whichapparently could be easily set up ordismantled. The style was exaggerated — themimes wore masks and huge phalluses, andpadded their stomachs and buttocks — buttheir acting was considered to be more“realistic” than that of the Greek tragedians.And, although most classical theaters,including those of ancient Greece andElizabethan England, have cast men (or boys)in the female roles, these mime troupes used women to portray women.

The tradition of clowning spawned by the Dorian mimes persisted in Europefor at least a thousand years.-’ In the third century B.C., it reappeared in thephlyakes comedy of southern Italy, apparently brought to that area by Greekcolonists. This in turn seems to have inspired a native form of mime in Italy, theAtellan farce (tabula Atellana), which later evolved into Roman mime andflourished until the fall of the Roman Empire in 476 A.D.

Phallephoric bald-headed hunchback.Kunst. Historiches Museum, Vienna

The same basic plots and stock characters were seen throughout thisthousand-year tradition of mime comedy. By the time of the Atellan farce, thefour basic stereotypes had been given standardized names: Bucco, the loudbraggart (perhaps a comic slave or soldier); Pappus, the old dotard; Maccus,the clumsy, gluttonous- fool (often a rustic); and Dossennus (also known asManducus), a sharp-witted hunchback who wore a grotesque mask with largeteeth and a long, hooked nose.

In Roman mime, the bald-headed fool wore a peaked hat and was known asthe stupidus. He imitated everything the archmime said and did, and also servedas the perennial comic butt, the victim of every prank. One Roman writer, forexample, explained that it was the fool’s job to be “slapped at the public’s

expense”; another term applied to him was alapus-”onewho receives blows.”

The improvisational approach of these clowns wasapparently found lacking by contemporary writers, whosought to impose well-organized plots and polisheddialogue on their stock characters. Throughout history,in fact, there have been writers who have tried — moreor less unsuccessfully — to script plays specifically forclowns. This was the case in ancient Greece, well beforethe Old Comedy of Aristophanes and his contemporaries.Epicharmus (fl 485-467 B.C.), from the Dorian colony ofSyracuse, was the first noted mime author, and was hailedby Plato as the father of comicpoetry.

Literary mimeenjoyed its greatest vogue,however, in Greece

between 300 and 250 B.C. Many fragments, as wellas eight complete mimes by Herodas,’ havesurvived from this period. It is unclear, however,just how many of these scripts were actuallyperformed. Likewise, many Roman mime writersappeared in the first century B.C. — LutatiousCatullus, Decimus Laberius, and Publius Syrus,among others — but again the textual fragmentsthese writers have left us cannot necessarily beequated with the clowning most mimes actuallydid on stage.

Bucco, braggart character inAtellan farce of ancient Rome.

Pappus, old man character in Atellan farce.

Nor should the mime tradition be equated with either the Roman pantomimusor circenses. The former was akin to our modern pantomime and featured a solodancer silently portraying all the characters (panto = all) in a story narrated by achorus; although popular, it was appreciated more by the upper classes than bythe masses. The Roman circuses (circenses) were architectural structures designedprimarily for chariot races. Mimes, tumblers, jugglers, and ropedancers usuallyput on their shows elsewhere and were not identified with the circenses; the circusas we know it did not develop until the eighteenth century, when clowns andacrobats began to perform alongside equestrians in a circular riding ring (chapter3).

The ancient Romans valued entertainment for its own sake far more than didthe Greeks: during the reign of Constantius, more than a hundred days a yearwere devoted to theatrical festivals (ludi scenici). Mimes were patronized by theemperors, and one mimic actress by the name of Theodora became the mistressand eventually the wife of Emperor Justinian. In keeping with the spirit of thetimes, the mime plays grew more elaborate and more obscene. Adultery becamethe favorite theme, with Emperor Helioglabus even ordering the realisticportrayal of sexual acts on stage. Such lewdness helped the mimes earn the enmityof the early Christians. According to St. Augustine, “the man who brings actors,mimes, and dancers into his home does not realize what a gathering of demonsenters along with them.”

The fall of the Roman Empire in 476 A.D., however, was the direct cause ofthe collapse of the theater. When the barbarians formally closed all theaters,amphitheaters, and circuses in the following century, the mime was forced tobecome a street performer in a hostile social climate. His profession was a difficultone. Many mimes were brilliant performers who spent their entire lives trampinglong distances in all kinds of weather, earning only a few pennies from reluctantaudiences. And the Church, of course, had already assured them that at the endof their hard life they were certain to burn in hell.

“There are three kinds of actors,” opined a thirteenth-century Bishop ofSalisbury. “Some transform their bodies with lewd dances and gestures, at timesindecently disrobing or wearing horrible masks. . . . Others frequent the courtsof the great, where they say scandalous and shameful things about those whoare not present so as to delight the rest. . . . A third class of actor plays musicalinstruments for man’s enjoyment. Of these there are two types. Some frequenttaverns and lascivious gatherings, singing verses to move men to lust. Otherssing of the adventures of princes and the lives of the saints.” Only this last grouphad enough redeeming qualities to be tolerated; all the others were damnable.

(7) Despite the Church’s approbation, the clown — whether called a mimus,histrione, jongleur, me’ne’stral, or skomorokhi — was seen throughout Europeand Russia during the Middle Ages, and even the clergy sometimes hired himto entertain at weddings and other festivities. From the few records that survive,however, it is often impossible to distinguish the clown from the large numberof people who took to the road in the Middle Ages. These wayfarers includedamong their number not only performers, but also large numbers of peddlers,pilgrims, unemployed laborers, criminals, herbalists, pardoners, mendicantfriars, singing priests, and wandering scholars. (8)

The different titles given to the entertainers alone are as numerous as theyare confusing (see glossary). The terminology generally reflects an attempt toclassify them according to their social position rather than by what they actuallydid on stage. The frequent changes in nomenclature indicate both the uncertainstatus of the clown — whomight find himself passingthe hat in the public squareone week and dining withthe king the next — and theinclination of lessreputable entertainers tolatch onto the titlesbestowed on their morehighly regardedcolleagues.

At the top of the socialstructure were thoseperformers who becamepermanent fixtures at courtor who performedexclusively for the nobility.(9) Until the thirteenthcentury, the most commonterm for this class ofentertainer was minstrel,and many court jesters werein fact drawn from theranks of the minstrels.Often the minstrel specialized in music and poetry, arts considered to be morerefined than the trickery of the juggler, conjuror, or buffoon. As a poet, songwriter,or musician, the minstrel became known more specifically as a scop and thenlater as a mz’nnesi . nger in Germany, as a gleeman in England, as a troubadour in

Juggler, musicians and dwarf entertaining at court. Courtesy of theMilner Library, Illinois State University.

southern France, and as a trouvère in northernFrance. Wandering scholars often showed upat court also, where their wit was quiteappreciated. King Alfonso V of Aragon wassaid to have derived untold pleasure fromlistening to their “scolding matches,” afashionable form of courtly entertainment inwhich these scholars reviled one another in thefilthiest Latin imaginable.

Although many clowns entertained atcourt, most were associated with the streetsrather than with palaces; with juggling, magic,and buffoonery rather than the fine arts; andwith a highly questionable lifestyle rather thanworldly manners. These clowns continued tobe called mimes — or histriones in learned Latin— until the ninth century, when the wordjongleur came into fashion. The jongleur wasin most cases an all-round entertainer whocombined the comedic talent of the clown withthe sleight-of-hand artistry of the magician andthe physical prowess of the tumbler, juggler,and ropedancer. By the thirteenth century,however, the jongleur had usurped the more dignified title of minstrel; jongleurthen came to mean conjuror, before later gaining its present sense of juggler.

Many troubadours and trouvères were primarily songwriters. Sometimes theywould hire jongleurs as assistants to provide comic relief, musicalaccompaniment, or even to sing the ballads they had composed. One exampleof this relationship is found in the troubadour Giraut de Cabreira’s amusingcriticism of his jongleurs incompetence: “You play the hurdy-gurdy poorly andyour singing is even worse. You are as bad with dice as you are with the violinbow. You are a failure at dancing and at juggling. You can sing neither sirventesnor ballads.” And to conclude, he lists all the fine literature of which the jongleuris totally ignorant. (10)

Many English gleemen brightened their shows by working with a “glee-maiden” who, in addition to supplying sex appeal, was an accomplishedmusician, dancer, and acrobat. Some of these women set out on their own anddid quite well for themselves. But while there were many female jongleurs, theywere handicapped by being regarded as no better than common prostitutes,

Saxon gleemen.

and were accordingly harassed by civil and religious authorities.

What exactly did the medieval clown — male or female, mime, jongleur orminstrel — do when he performed? The extent to which the clown staged shortfarces is uncertain. No mime texts or descriptions have survived from the MiddleAges, but there is some evidence that comic repartee between a pair of clownswas common, and often served as a means of attracting an audience.

Certainly such two-character drama would be in keeping with the clowntradition, both past and present. As assistant to a troubadour or tumbler, theclown was also in a perfect position to burlesque his master’s skill. Often thismeant imitating a particular stunt, pretending not to be able to do it, and thenaccomplishing it in a clumsy or unorthodox manner. Thus in Ben Jonson’s EveryMan out of his Humour (1599), we read: “He’s like the Zany to a tumbler / Thattries tricks after him, to make men laugh.”

The clown’s ability to perform acts of skill in a dangerous yet comic mannerlater became an important part of circus clowning. And as in the modern circus,the medieval clown might make use of dozens of related skills. Magic, contortion,leaping through hoops, juggling with apples and knives, imitating birds, knife-throwing, storytelling, dancing, tumbling, fire-eating, exhibiting trained animals,showing puppets, ropedancing, clever dialogue, ballad-singing, and playingmusical instruments were all popular medieval entertainments associated withthe clown.

If the clown is difficult to isolate during this period of history, it is perhapsbecause he could do just about everything. In fact, he had to be multitalented inorder to survive as a professional entertainer.”I can play the lute, the violin, thebagpipe, the syrinx, the harp, the gigue, the gittern, the symphony, the psaltery,the organistrum, the regals, the tabor, and the rote,” said one such performer,according to an old manuscript. “I can sing a song well, and make tales andfables. I can tell a story against any man. I can make love verses to please youngladies, and can play the gallant for them if necessary. Then I can throw knivesinto the air, and catch them without cutting my fingers. I can do dodges withstring, most extraordinary and amusing. I can balance chairs, and make tablesdance. I can throw a somersault, and walk on my head.”

Zany to a Mountebank

While the clown might starve performing in the streets and passing the hat, heoften could earn a decent income if he worked as a zany for a mountebank. Themountebank was usually an unlicensed “doctor” who pulled teeth and peddledhomemade pills and potions. Many of his medicines were worthless, if notactually harmful, while others were standard folk remedies. Mountebanks werea frequent sight in the Middle Ages, but their fascinating story spans all ofrecorded history, from antiquity to the medicine show of the nineteenth century,and even to present-day commercial television. (12)

The mountebank derived his name from the practice of climbing onto a bench(mount-a-bank) in order to gather and address a crowd; if he could afford to,however, he would erect a temporary platform stage, complete with backdrop.The mountebank’s zany usually was known by some popular equivalent forclown, such as Merry Andrew or Harlequin. Often his nickname was a favoritefood of the land: Jack Pudding in England, Jean Potage [soup] in France,Pickelherring in Holland, and Hanswurst in Germany.

The mountebank was regarded by the more wary members of society as adangerous charlatan who would be far from town before it was discovered thathis guaranteed remedies were not as effective as promised. “Impudence is hislicense to practice,”wrote one critic in 1676, “and at the seventh funeral he hascaused he takes his degree.” But if the mountebank was a fraud, he was alsosomething of a clown, and his pranks and jests were often well worth the priceof admission. Indeed, many performers had experience both in the role ofmountebank and in that of zany.

He could be a rogue both on stage and off. One of the most incrediblemountebank stories was told of the bold Italian trickster, Mantacinni. Young,eloquent, and fashionably dressed, he traveled about in a splendid chariot drawnby two fine horses. Arriving in Lyon, France, he shocked the townspeople bypromising that in fifteen days he would bring to life all those who had beenburied in the public graveyard during the preceding ten years. His announcementcaused so much excitement that Mantacinni was mobbed wherever he went.His calm reaction was to ask the local authorities to put him under guard as aguarantee that he would remain in Lyon until he had fulfilled his promise.

As anticipated, this inspired the public’s confidence, and that week Mantacinnireaped a small fortune selling his elixirs. But while the mountebank counted hismoney, his assistant grew more apprehensive as to the outcome of this impossibleprank. “Be quiet and wait,” Mantacinni instructed him. “You know nothing ofmankind.”

The very next day, the mountebank received aletter from a local resident offering him a thousandfrancs not to revive the man’s hot-tempered wife.Next there came a similar proposal from two brothersnot particularly anxious to see their miserly fatherreturn, followed by a sobbing young widow aboutto remarry who expressed the same sentiments abouther late husband. As the fateful day drew near, moreand more people decided they could do just as wellwithout their dearly departed. Finally, the chiefmagistrate had to intervene on behalf of the citizensof Lyon, entreating the mountebank not to gothrough with his plan. “In justice, however, to yourrare and divine talents,” avowed the official, “I shallgive you an attestation in due form under our sealthat you can revive the dead and that it was our faultwe were not eyewitnesses to your powers.” And soMantacinni safely left town, his pockets lined withgold. (13)

On stage, most mountebanks were powerfulspeakers, hypnotizing unsophisticated audienceswith the latest jokes and most imaginative language.Thomas Coryat’s description of a mountebank heobserved in 1608 in Venice’s St. Mark’s Square istypical: “Truly I often wondered at many of thesenatural orators, for they would tell their tales withsuch admirable volubility and plausible grace, evenextempore, and seasoned with that singular varietyof elegant jests and witty conceits, that they did oftenstrike admiration into strangers that never heardthem before. (14) While the quack doctor might usesleight-of-hand technique to pretend to cut himself and then effect somemiraculous cure, or even retain a strong man who could serve as living proof ofthe power of his potions, it was generally held to be more effective for theentertainment to be separate from the sales pitch. This usually took the form of acarefully structured program in which the mountebank served as a pompousstraight man to the comic disruptions of his zany.

The clown’s first task was to entice passersby to stop and watch him juggle,tumble, or clown around with a trained monkey. Once a crowd was gathered, a

Merry Andrew from Tempest’sCries of London (c.1690). Thismay be Phillips, a famous clownwho performed on mountebankstages and as an interpreter forpuppet shows; the interpreterstood in front of the puppet boothand introduced the puppets, en-gaged in dialogue with them, andsometimes even explained whatthey were saying if the pupppet’shigh-pitched voice was not clear.Courtesy of the Milner Library,Illinois State University.

typical performance would begin with the zany’s comically flatteringintroduction of his master, as in the following mock speech:

Gentleman, though I am an English fool, yet my master has the honorto be a High-German physician, who in his travels around the universe hascured twelve foreign ministers of state of those twin plagues, bribery andinfidelity [and of] six kinds of tyrannical fevers; the whole conclave of cardinalsof pride, laziness and hypocrisy; and the present pope of the anti-Christianevil! He was also three years oculist to the German Spread-Eagle, and sevenyears operator for the teeth of the King of Spain’s white elephants! He is notonly learned by his studies, but reverend, as you may see by his beard, andwise, as you may judge by his silence. . . .

When the clown finally finished his fulsome praise, the mountebank wouldenter and present his credentials, citing endorsements of dubious validity anddisplaying several phony medical degrees. Often he spoke with a foreign accent,which made him sound even more like a scientific authority. Next a short skitmight be performed in which the mountebank played a farcical yet competentdoctor or dentist and the zany his patient. These ancient skits may well haveinspired a standard dentist scene of the commedia dell’arte and the circus, as wellas Harlequin’s outrageous cure for a toothache: “Hold a ripe apple in your mouthand put your head in the oven: before the apple is cooked your toothache will begone.”

Sooner or later the mountebank would launch into his first sales pitch,thoroughly extolling the virtues of his product, only to have his spiel repeatedlyinterrupted by the clown’s antics. Thomas Holcroft described the comic businessof one such Merry Andrew as follows: “To see the comical jump he gave, alightinghalf upright, roaring with pretended pain, pressing his hip [while] declaring hehad put out his collarbone, crying to his master to come and cure it, receiving akick, springing up and making a somersault; thanking his master kindly formaking him well, yet the moment his back was turned, mocking him with wryfaces; answering the doctor, whom I should have thought extremely witty, ifAndrew had not been there with jokes so apposite and whimsical, as never failedto produce roars of laughter.”

As the mountebank delivered his harangue, the clown would repeatedly pokehis head out from behind the curtain, making fun of everything his master said,parodying his patter and twisting the meaning of his words. The mountebankmeanwhile played the perfect straight man. Here he was, trying so hard to hawkhis wares, and his own assistant was doing everything possible to underminesales.

The merriment was ofcourse intentional. Whilethe clown seeminglyencouraged the public notto buy the profferedmerchandise, themountebank knew fullwell that the bystanderswould easily be convertedinto customers as soon asthey forgot that they were,in fact, supposed to bebuying. Once the audiencehad been effectivelyhypnotized, once itsjudgment and willpowerhad been weakened, thereal sales pitch could begin,with the zany evencontributing a comic jingle:

You that would last long, list’ to my song,Make no more coil, but buy of this oil.Would you be ever fair and young,Stout of teeth and strong of tongue,Tart of palate, quick of ear,Sharp of sight, of nostril clear,Moist of hand, and light of foot,(Nor, I will come nearer to’t)Would you like free from all diseases,Do the thing your Mistress pleases,Yea, fright all aches from your bones,Here’s a medicine for the Nones.

This reliable formula has been producing excellent profits for centuries. When itwas adopted by Mondor and Tabarin, two comic geniuses who set up shop inParis in the 1620s, the spectators “competed with one another to see who couldbe the first to throw his money onto the scaffold in exchange for a small box ofsalve.”

Harlequin and mountebank. Reproduction of a popular seventeenth-centurybroadside, The Infallible Mountebank, printed by H. Hills. British Museum.“Thousands I’ve dissected / Thousands new erected / And such cures effected/ As none e’er can tell,” boasts the advertisement.

Mondor was the drug seller, his stage character that of a pompous, eruditedoctor who delighted in big words and scientific jargon, delivered in a peculiarmixture of Spanish, French, Italian, and Latin. The grotesque and oftenimprovised humor of his zany, Jean Salomon Tabarin (c.1584-1633), contrastedperfectly with Mondor’s pedantic stiffness. Every spectator “shook with laughterfrom his left toe to his right ear” as Tabarin, with a deadpan expression, utteredribald jests or virulently insulted his master. Their farces were the rage of Paris;in one favorite, Mondor dressed in drag and Tabarin played his foolish younglover.

Witty dialogue was their forte, but their jokes, like most jokes, are rarely ashumorous in print. They depended on the contrasting personalities of Mondorand Tabarin, on their talent as performers, and on the delight that audiencesalways take in seeing the lowbrow triumph over the highbrow. Tabarin wouldbegin by asking his master a trick question. Mondor, true to character, wouldlaunch into a long-winded intellectual analysis of the subject. When he was quitethrough with his lengthy dissertation, Tabarin would gleefully provide him withthe solution to the riddle:

TABARIN: My master, the other day I heard a certain fellow say that he wouldgive a hundred crowns to be one-eyed. Now who would be entitled to expresssuch a wish?MONDOR: A man must be quite beside himself to have so great a cupidity insoul. Sight is one of the first organs of the body, and the most delicate part of it,being of an incredible and admirable construction, in which the Author of theuniverse has enclosed all that is rarest and most excellent in this world; forwhether we consider the two pairs of nerves which have their sources in thebrain, and by which sight is conducted, one of them stronger to supply movement,the other more delicate to supply sight; or whether we consider the crystallinehumour that is in the center of the eye, and its enveloping tunic which resemblesa spider’s web, or the other two humours that surround it and in which the eyeseems to swim; if afterwards we come to the consideration and contemplationof the admirable retina and the films which surround the whole body of the eye,the muscles which raise and lower the eyelids, and all the artifice employed byNature in this admirable construction, we shall conclude that a man is highlyimprudent to desire the inestimable loss of the finest part of him.TABARIN: The men who desire to be one-eyed are the blind. ... I can assure youthat you will not find a single one who would not be delighted to see you hanged.(15)

Mondor and Tabarin were not only successful mountebanks, they achievedtheatrical fame as well. Parisians returned again and again to their trestle stage

on the Place Dauphin, perfectly willing to purchase a few elixirs in exchange forsome splendid entertainment. Many of Tabarin’s comic gems quickly found theirway into jest books, and one seventeenth-century writer complained that theCollection of Tabarinic Farces “sold twenty thousand copies, whereas it is impossibleto sell six hundred of a worthy work.” Ironically, these jest books provedespecially popular among ladies of high society: it would not have been properfor them to be seen in the public square with the common people, so they had tocontent themselves with simply reading Tabarin’s witticisms.

Well after the deaths of Mondor and Tabarin, their dialogues and farcescontinued to be a rich source of comic ideas, and many elements of their workreappear in the repertoire of the fairground parades. Even the playwright Molierestole several comic bits from these popular mountebanks, including the sack-beating scene in The Tricks of Scapin (1671). And just as strolling players are knownas cabotins, after the sixteenth-century Italian mountebank and clown, Cabotino,broad farces were often called tabarinades.

The English Clown

Fool, jester, mime, jongleur, minstrel, and zany are just a few of the many synonymsfor clown, but the English word clown did not enter the language until thesixteenth century (see glossary). It is derived from the words colonus and Clod,meaning farmer or rustic, and by extension a stupid lout. The sixteenth-centuryEnglish theater clown was specifically a doltish country bumpkin, certainly auniversal comic stereotype; in modern usage, the word clodhopper carriesessentially the same meaning. In strict Elizabethan terminology, then, only arustic buffoon was called a clown: Shakespeare’s braggart soldier, Sir JohnFalstaff, would not qualify, nor would his comic servants, Rosencrantz andGuildenstern, or any of his court jesters. (16)

The English clown was by definition stupid, but since he himself was unawareof this, he never hesitated to embark on foolhardy schemes that seemedguaranteed to backfire. He could be a cowardly braggart, a dishonest thief, alazy glutton, and a ridiculous lover, as well as a gentle primitive. Ironically, manyof his comic traits were borrowed from certain characters in the religious dramasperformed in England toward the end of the Middle Ages.

These “mystery plays” and “morality plays,” although based on biblical storiesand concepts, contained lengthy comic scenes filled with devils, simpletons, and

all sorts of marvelously villainouscharacters. Shepherds were cast ascountry yokels. The Vice figure wasan embodiment of all humanweaknesses, an incorrigible knaveand sinner. He had a witty, ironicsense of humor, but he was also anoutrageous braggart whoseboasting could never quite hide hisinherent cowardice. The devil wasoften the funniest character of themall. Adorned with a tail, horns, anda red nose, he used a wheelbarrowto carry sinners off to the mouth ofhell. Sometimes he was shown tobe a bumbling fool. Like Punch inthe popular puppet show, Vicefrequently engaged the devil inknock-down, drag-out fights. “Itwas a pretty part in the old churchplays,” recollected Samuel Harsnettin 1603, “when the nimble Vicewould skip up like a jack-an-apesonto the devil’s neck and ride thedevil a course, and belabor him withhis wooden dagger, till he made him roar, whereat the people would laugh tosee the devil so vice-haunted.” (17)

The famous clown of Shakespeare’s youth, and the epitome of the Elizabethanrustic buffoon, was Richardon, a leading actor with the Queen’s Men from 1583until his death in 1588. Attired in buttoned cap, country boots, russet jerkin, andbreeches, he personified the countryman’s naive self-assurance, coarseness, andhomespun wisdom. Tarlton was known for his sarcastic bantering with theaudience and his gift for improvisation — what one academic of the day termed“his piperly extemporizing and Tarretonizing.” And some of today’s scholarsbelieve that Hamlet’s description of the jester Yorick — “a fellow of infinite jest,of most excellent fancy” — was Shakespeare’s way of praising the late RichardTarlton.

In addition to his career as a clown, Tarlton was a tavern owner, a playwright,and the author of several “jigs” (a farce in rhyme, sung and danced to a populartune). Queen Elizabeth was a big fan of Tarlton’s, for whenever she was in a

Elizabethan clown Richard Tarlton, from a Harleian manu-script.

sour mood, he invariably could undumpish her; like a court jester, he was quitefree with his comments when in her royal presence. Tarlton’s death in 1588 waswidely mourned, and a collection of jokes attributed to him was published inabout 1600 as Tarlton’s Jests, and News out of Purgatory.

As Hamlet indicated in his speech to the players, most sixteenth-centurytheater clowns showed little respect for the author’s text, insisting on addingtheir own impromptu comic business. Some of the best (and worst) jokes inthese plays were in fact invented by the clowns, not by the playwrights, andwere only written down in the prompt book once their popular appeal had beenestablished. The clown was an important link between the player and the public,his laughter was their laughter: like the mountebank’s zany, he would poke hishead out from behind the curtain and make comments about the play, as if hetoo were just a spectator. Between acts he sometimes entertained with comical

songs and dances.

Often the clown’s presence onstage had little to do with the plot.George Whetstone reflected aprevailing attitude when hecomplained in 1578 that “manytimes, to make mirth, they make aclown companion with a king.”Country yokels obviously did notbelong with royal monarchs. SirPhilip Sidney, in his An Apologie forPoetrie (c. 1583), argued that “theirplays be neither right tragedies, norright comedies; mingling kings andclowns, not because the matter socarrieth it, but thrust in clowns byhead and shoulders, to play a partin majestical matters, with neitherdecency nor discretion.” A group ofanonymous Cambridge studentslikewise satirized the practice intheir play, The Pilgrimage to Parnassus(c. 1599):Enter DROMO,drawing a clown inwith a rope.

CLOWN:What now? Thrust a maninto the commonwealth whether he

Clown characters in seventeenth-century English drolls. Draw-ing from Kirkman’s The Wits, or, Sport upon Sport.

will or no? What the devilshould I do here? DROMO:Why what an ass art thoulDost thou not know a playcannot be without a clown?Clowns have been thrustinto plays by head andshoulders ever sinceKempe could make ascurvy face; and thereforereason thou shouldst bedrawn in with a cart-rope.(18)

The same play gives a drollaccount of how to be a clown:“Why, if thou canst but drawthy mouth awry, lay thy legover thy staff, saw a piece ofcheese asunder with thydagger, lap up drink on theearth, I warrant thee they’lllaugh mightily.”

Shakespeare’s clowns in the1590s were William Kempe and Richard Cowley. It seems likely that Shakespearehad their speech and gestures in mind when he wrote the parts of the constableand watchman, Dogberry and Verges, in Much Ado About Nothing. Kempe wasespecially known for his broad humor, comic dancing, and frequent ad libs. In1600, he actually performed a hundred-mile morris dance from London toNorwich, a stunt that took him precisely a month to complete and made himeven more of a celebrity.

By 1599, Robert Armin (c. 1568-1615) had taken Kempe’s place inShakespeare’s troupe. It has even been speculated that Kempe was the target ofHamlet’s criticism of clowns, for the play was first performed a year or two afterKempe left the troupe. With Armin’s arrival, fool characters began to takeprecedence over clowns in Shakespeare’s plays, although fools were not thatcommon in other Elizabethan dramas. Armin had a keen scholarly interest inthe history of fools and jesters and even wrote a book on the subject, Foole uponFoole, or Six Sortes of Sottes (c. 1600). On stage he wore the fool’s long coat ofmotley, not the clown’s russet, and was known for his sophisticated wit. Feste,Touchstone, and Lear’s fool were no doubt written to suit Armin’s talents. (19)

Fools of the seventeenth-century fairs.

The distinction between rustic clown and court fool was probably not as greatas some scholars assume it to have been. Armin, for example, also played thefirst gravedigger in Hamlet and Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing, and hadin fact begun his career as a protege of Tarlton. Both the fool and the clown werelicensed critics of the action, a link between stage and audience. The fool, however,could be given an integral part in the play, for it was certainly more logical forhim to be “companion to a king.”

The Puritans closed the English theaters in 1642. When they were reopenedin the 1660s, clowns found they were not at all welcome in the staid Restorationdrama. The native English clown continued to be seen, however, in various“minor” theaters: on mountebank stages, in fairground booths, and in drolls,short farces condensed from full-length plays (including those of Shakespeare).This rustic buffoon was to reappear in English pantomimes of the late eighteenthcentury, but in the meantime the physical comedy and spirit of improvisationhe embodied was reaching new heights in the performances of the Italiancommedia dell’arte.

The Commedia Dell’Arte

It has been more than four hundred years since the crafty Harlequin, themelancholy Pierrot, miserly old Pantaloon, and Pulcinella — ancestor of thepuppet Punch-first trod the boards. If their names are still familiar to us today, itis certainly a tribute to the commedia dell’arte, the popular form of Italian streettheater that gave them birth. From the sixteenth to the eighteenth century,commedia troupes were a common sight in Europe, especially in France. Manybooks have been written about this marvelous improvisational theater, for itspopularity and influence were indeed immense. (20)

Commedia dell’arte means “comedy of professional actors,” a title thatimmediately set these strolling players apart from the commedia erudita,dilletantish amateurs who staged their own literary dramas for the intellectualelite. The commedia dell’arte actors devoted their entire lives to their art and, likethe mimes of antiquity and the jongleurs of the Middle Ages, certainly expectedto be paid for their efforts. They were seen at royal courts and in respectabletheaters, but for the most part they performed on makeshift stages in villagesquares and marketplaces. And, like most forms of popular comedy, their comiceffects relied on stock characters, masks, improvisation, acrobatics, and socialsatire.

Many a learned treatise has beenwritten on the origins of the commediadell’arte. Most try to show a direct line ofdescent from the Atellan farce to thesixteenth century, but the similarity ofstock types is the only evidence offered.One literary-minded writer even statesthat similarities between commediastereotypes and certain characters in theplays of Aristophanes prove thatPantaloon, Harlequin, Dottore, andcompany “originated as caricatures of realAthenians living in the fifth century B.C.1121 If this is all true, however, then whatdo we make of the appearance of thesesame stock characters — the old dotard,the pompous doctor, the country bumpkin,the comic servant — in the Szechuantheater of China? Or of the fact that theMande-speaking peoples of West Africa perform farces involving cowardlybraggarts, infirm old men, lepers, thieves, witch-like old women, adulterers andcuckolds, and even a fool. (22)

Comedians of course “borrow” new material wherever they can find it, butthe fact remains that clowns can and do emerge spontaneously out of their ownnative cultures, in the process reinventing ancient forms of comedy. Whattheatrical sources there were for the commedia were no doubt more immediate.Sixteenth-century Italian farces, especially those of Angelo Beolco (15021542),no doubt exerted an influence, as did the more improvisational style of the zanniwho worked for Italian mountebanks during the same period. But the commediaclowns were above all a part of Italian folk culture, and were very much identifiedwith specific regions and their dialects: Harlequin and Brighella from Bergamo,Pantaloon of Venice, the Neapolitan Pulcinella, Scapin of Lombard, the Dottoreof Bologna-and Capitano, a Spanish conqueror on Italian soil.

There are hundreds of variations on these stock characters, but they all fallinto basic types. Most commedia plays included a pair of romantic young lovers(inamorati) who did not wear masks and were not necessarily expected to befunny. The “character roles,” called maschere because most of these actors worehalf masks, were divided into masters and servants. The most famous masterwas Pantaloon (Pantalone in Italian), a Venetian merchant noted for his stinginess

Pantalone mask.

and robust senility. He was often ahumorous yet sympathetic oldlecher who made a total fool ofhimself when he tried to woo youngwomen half his age. His best friendwas the pedant Dottore (doctor), aprofessor of dubious intelligencewho spoke in a pretentious mixtureof Latin and Bolognese dialect andeven dressed in a cap and gown.Rarely did he express an opinion ofhis own. His portentouspronouncements, like those of themountebank, Mondor, were oftenexcruciatingly long, and were repletewith such deep insights as“whoever discusses a question says

something or other.” He also appeared as judge or physician but, whatever hisspecialty, his sense of logic and self-importance remained the same:

I am not only an avalanche of medicine, but the bane of all maladieswhatsoever. I exterminate all fevers and chills, the itch, gravel, measles, theplague, pleurisy, catarrh, both wind-colic and ordinary colic, without countingthose serious and light illnesses which bear the same name. In short, I wagesuch cruel and relentless warfare against all forms of illness that when I see adisorder becoming ineradicable in a patient I even go so far as to kill thepatient in order to relieve him of his disorder.

The Capitano was a younger master. He was often a Spanish soldier whoboasted constantly of his romantic and military exploits, only to be revealed asineffectual in both areas. His costume and manners were extremely exaggerated,and audiences delighted to see his true cowardly nature revealed. His character,then, was very similar to the braggart soldier (Miles Gloriosus) type in Romanliterary comedy, as well as to the medieval Vice and Shakespeare’s Falstaff.

Much of the action in these plays was instigated by the servants, or zanni; infact, the commedia dell’arte was also known as the commedia di zanni. Most of thezanni were males, but there was likely to be at least one maid (fantessa). Thecommedia troupes, like those of the ancient mimes, included women in their rankseven though the “legitimate theater” of the day still regarded this as a shamefulpractice. The female servantsColumbine, Franceschina, Smeraldina-were for themost part young, plainspoken, and actively involved in the cross fire of plots

Harlequin mask.

and schemes; frequently they carried on love affairs with the male servants. Theyusually did not wear masks.

The servants usually came in pairs, a clever “first zany” (Brighella or Scapino,for example) and a stupid “second zany” (such as Pedrolino or Gilles). Brighella’screed, for example, was: “One should never say that a man is a thief, but ratherthat he is an ingenious mathematician who has found something before its ownerhas lost it.” Many of the most enduring commedia clowns, such as Harlequinand Pierrot, were fascinating contradictions, combining naivéte and ingenuity.

Harlequin-Arlecchino in Italian-was originally more of a doltish servant, afrequent victim of the pranks of Brighella. As might be expected, Harlequin grewmore sophisticated, and even the irregular patches on his costume becamesymmetrical. According to actor-author Luigi Riccoboni, Harlequin’s acting was“ a continual play of extravagant tricks, violent movements, and outrageousrogueries. He was at once insolent, mocking, inept, clownish, and emphaticallyribald. . . . He wasextraordinarilyagile, and heseemed to beconstantly in theair; and I mightconfidently addthat he was ap r o f i c i e n ttumbler.” (21) Hewas likewise seenwalking on hishands and onstilts, turning aback somersault,dancing up astorm, scalingwalls, and leapingfrom dangerousheights like a cat.

Harlequin was a fanciful creature, a chameleon who could be comic or sad,masculine or feminine, gentle or vulgar. “His character is a mixture of ignorance,naivete’, wit, stupidity, and grace,” wrote another commentator. “He is both arake and an overgrown boy with occasional gleams of intelligence, and hismistakes and clumsiness often have a wayward charm. His acting is patterned

Harlequin walking on hands from scene in commedia dell’arte. Drawing from RecueilFossard.

on the lithe, agile grace of a young cat, and he has asuperficial coarseness which makes his performancesall the more amusing. He plays the role of a faithfulvalet, always patient, credulous, and greedy. He iseternally amorous, and is constantly in difficulties eitheron his own or on his master’s account. He is hurt andcomforted in turn as easily as a child, and his grief isalmost as comic as his joy.” (24)

Equally curious is the evolution of another comicservant, the dreamy Pedrolino, who was to bereincarnatd as Gilles, Pagliaccio, Paillaisse, and Pierrot.The original Pedrolino dates back to the ISOOS, and heappears in all but one of the fifty commedia scenariospublished by Flaminio Scala in 1611. His charmingpersonality was partly that of a gullible second zanyand partly that of the romantic young lover. He couldbecome the melancholy Pierrot portrayed by Frenchpantomimist Jean-Gaspard Deburau the naive Gilles ofthe fairground parade, or the coarse but equally stupidvalet, Pagliaccio.

As a stupid servant, Pierrot was often equated with the loutish British clown.The resemblance became physical as well when Clown adopted Pierrot’swhiteface. Instead of wearing the half mask associated with the other commediazanies, the French Pedrolino, Gilles, and Pierrot powdered their faces white, apractice also popularized in the early 1600s by three French farce players (Gros-Guillaume, Gaultier-Garguille, and Turlupin), who dabbed flour onto theirfaces.2-’ A makeup containing lead-based paint eventually took the place of flourand powder, until it was realized that the lead was fatally poisoning many clowns.Fortunately, a safe “greasepaint” makeup has since been developed, consistingof grease (from animal fat), zinc oxide, and tincture of benzoin.

The commedia dell’arte players sometimes referred to their acting style ascommedia all’improviso (improvised comedy), and their approach to performancewas quite similar to that of such modern improvisational groups as Second Cityand The Committee. Not only did these actors rely heavily on improvisation,they made it a major selling point and a matter of pride. “The Italian comedianslearn nothing by heart,” explained the famous Harlequin, Evaristo Gherardi(1663-1700). “They need but glance at the subject of the play a minute or twobefore going on the stage. It is this very ability to play at a moment’s noticewhich makes a good Italian actor so difficult to replace. Anyone can learn a part

Giuseppe-Domenico Biancolelli,known as Domenique, famous sev-enteenth-century Harlequin who iscredited with transforming the char-acter into one of wit and extremecleverness.

and recite it on stage, but Italian comedy required more than that. A good Italianactor is a man of infinite resources who plays more from imagination than -frommemory. He matches his words and actions so perfectly with those of his stagepartner that he instantly enters into whatever acting and movements are requiredof him, giving the impression that everything they do has been prearranged.”And Riccoboni argued that “the performer who improvises acts in a far morelively and natural manner than one who learns his role by heart. When peopleinvent their own lines, they can feel them better and therefore say them betterthan if they had borrowed them from others with the aid of memory. (21)

Commedia performances were nevertotally improvised, but they must havebeen fascinating to watch nevertheless.The troupe of some dozen performersfirst decided upon a basic scenario, orcanovaccio (canvas) — plot outline thatwould serve as a structure for theirimprovisations. The scenario, brokendown into a series of entrances andexits, with indications of the essentialcomic business, was hung on a wallbackstage so that it could be consultedat will. Only the basics were described,as we can see from the following scenein Scala’s The Tooth Extractor.Pantaloon’s teeth are fine, but Pedrolinohas convinced him otherwise:

Harlequin arrives, dressed as a dentist.Pedrolino tells Harlequin to pullPantaloon’s teeth because they aredecayed; then he hides. Harlequinbegins shouting under the windows,calling for those who have bad teeth,whereupon Pantaloon shouts to himfrom the window and then comes out.Harlequin takes out his tongs (whichare tinker’s tools) and calls them byridiculous names. He sits Pantaloondown, and with a pair of large pliers,pulls out four good teeth. Crying out inpain, Pantaloon grabs the dentist’s false

Pagliaccio, combining half mask and powdered face.

beard, which comes off in his hand. Harlequinruns off, and Pantaloon throws the chair afterhim. Complaining of the pain in his mouth, hegoes into the house, and the first act ends. (27)

This scene, which is the basis for the circus“wrong tooth” gag, could easily run ten orfifteen minutes, particularly with theintroduction of additional dialogue andinteraction between the terrified Pantaloon andthe fake dentist, Harlequin.

Although they could never be sure whatwould happen next, the commedia actors didmake use of standard speeches and comicbusiness, and since each actor usually playedthe same role throughout his career, he certainlyhad considerable experience to fall back on.Many actors borrowed some of their mosteffective lines from contemporary literature.“There is not a good book they have not read, awitty conceit they have not appropriated, a fine

piece of description they have not imitated, a deep thought they have not madetheir own,” revealed one critic. Those whoplayed the lovers, for example, developed their own personal repertoire of thefinest romantic discourses.

Even more critical to the performer were the frequently used comic bits knownas lazzi, meaning “tricks” or “turns.” Some lazzi were jokes, while others wereacts of skill that the actor had to somehow make part of the story. Many becamestandard and are mentioned by name in the scenarios. They included Harlequintrying to catch an imaginary fly buzzing around his head, or even eating hisown brains after a blow had spattered them. Acrobatic stunts and popular songsand dances of the day also served as lazzi. Gherardi could even imitate a varietyof wind instruments with his voice while accompanying himself on the guitar.

The commedia half masks, like the makeup of the clown, promoted a sense oftheatricality while at the same time allowing partial use of the face. The actor’svisible and mobile lower jaw effectively contrasted with the immobile upperhalf of the face, and resulted in far more facial expression than one might imagine.These lightweight leather masks were also practical in that they did not hinderthe actor when he performed acrobatic feats.

Gros-Guillaume, French farceur of the early1600s. Courtesy of the British Museum.

The commedia actors were identified not only by their masks, costumes, andnames, but by their movements and postures as well. Harlequin’s way of walking,for example, would immediately distinguish him from Pedrolino or Pantaloon.Carlo Mazzone-Clementi, who teaches commedia techniques to today’s actors,aptly compares these movements to those of barnyard inhabitants: “Hens, chicks,roosters, capons, ducks, peacocks, all the farmyard bipeds make us laugh, theirwalks absurd parodies of man’s own gait. Pantalone, Arlecchino, Columbina,Smeraldina, Brighella, Capitano, Dottore and the others are not identified somuch by the color and cut of their costumes as by the walk, the gesture, themanner in which each uses his ‘feathers’ to express pride, joy, anger, and sorrow,alternately swelling and drooping, preening and ruffling, as he picks his waylike a strutting fowl, ever vulnerable, across the stage, before the appreciativeeyes of the audience. “ (28) In the eighteenth century, many of these distinctivepostures and movements were codified by dancers, but the extent to which theywere transformed in the process is uncertain.

Knockabout clowning, much of it instigated by Harlequin’s wooden sword(his batte or slapstick), complemented this mime and dance movement. Althoughwe have considerably fewer details about it than we do about more recentslapstick comedy (chapter 5), early prints show the actors making use ‘ of awide range of circus techniques. Harlequin was the acrobat par excellence, butthe other characters, including old Pantaloon, shared in the rough-and-tumble.

Although the commedia actors frequentlymentioned mime, acrobatics, and lazzi in theirwritings, they did not go into any great detail.It was all so familiar to them that they saw noneed to be specific. The following piece ofcommedia business, described by a famousHarlequin, is a good example of this:

I return with a ladder and say that I had togo to the hangman’s house to find one. Afterdoing the tricks with the ladder, I finally leanit against the window of the house. I do thefall through the window and right back outthe door and into the street, all in onemovement. I say that thanks to my good luckI am now inside. I start to look for the doorand I say: “This room is terribly small. I can’tfind any chairs.” Then I find my ladder. I say:“Well, my ladder followed me right into the

Tiberio Fiorilli as Scaramouche, acommedia role that was part Capitano andpart zanni.

house.” I do the tricks with the ladder. Trivelino enters with a ladder. We leanthe two ladders against each other. Between the two of us we do all the lazziof the ladder. He supports me, in climbing, foot on shoulder. I get scared andsay: “Oh, that must be the hangman coming back for his ladder.” I then callfor help. Someone arrives. We recognize each other. I slap Trivelino and heruns out. (29)

The exact nature of the lazzi of the ladder will probably remain a mystery, butsuch scenes as the above were no doubt an important part of any commediaperformance.

At its best, then, the commedia dell’arte was a heady mixtureof farce and poetry, zany servants and ardent lovers, elegant dancing and

ignominious pratfalls. But with the stage all to themselves, their improvisationsunencumbered by the peculiar intentions of playwrights, these Italian clownsstill knew they had to get on with the story. A manuscript from 1699 gives thefollowing description of a meeting held before a performance:

When they have heard all the characters who have to make exits andentrances and decided on the winding up of scenes, they can agree with theircolleagues about some fresh lazzo or some new piece of stage business; andcan also be sure of not straying too far from the main subject. . . . Therefore alltheir impromptus and additions must adhere to the theme of the comedy sothat it will not be too long drawn out. Thus the actors will be able to pick uptheir cues and return to the plot without forgetting what the comedy is allabout, and this will enable those who wander too far from the subject to findtheir place again, so that the whole affair does not become a confused chaos.(30)

The Commedia Tradition

The influence of the commedia dell’arte on the clown tradition as well as on literarycomedy was overwhelming. Moliere found considerable inspiration in theirwork, especially the acting of the brilliant Scaramouche, Tiberio Fiorilli (1608-1094). Molière himself acted the role of Scapin, and most of his plays show aclear debt to commedia. The same could be said of the plays of Pierre Marivaux.The French opera comique was likewise derivedfrom Italian popular comedy, as were manyinnovations in dance.

As a distinct genre, the commedia dell’artegradually disappeared during the second halfof the eighteenth century. But while suchplaywrights as Carlo Goldoni (1707-1793) andCarlo Gozzi (1720-1806) endeavored to keepit alive in a more literary form, the clowntradition the commedia exemplified was takingon a new life elsewhere. (31) It reappeared,for example, in French and English fairgroundtheaters, where clowns combined juggling,ropedancing, and tumbling with theperformance of parades.

The parade was a short skit or comicdialogue performed on a trestle stage in frontof the fairground theater as an inducement forpeople to pay to see the main show inside. Theeighteenth-century parade characters wereclearly versions of commedia stock types, butthe parade also had roots in early French farceand sotties, and continued to be popular in thenineteenth century in the performances ofBobèche and Galimafré. The smart repartee ofthe parade actors especially pleased the French,who preserved many of these verbal exchangesin print. The form also attracted authors fromoutside show business, among them Thomas Gueulette, an eighteenth-centurymagistrate who published a three-volume collection of parades he had writtenfor the fairground theaters. The parade was also popular in English fairgrounds,and the following facetious dialogue between master and servant gives an idea

Théâtre des Funambule.s. Separate en-trances for second- and third-class seatsare to each side. Courtesy of the TheatreCollection, New York Public Library atLincoln Center. Astor, Lennox, andTilden Foundations.

of the simplest form it might take:

MASTER: Tell them what the exhibition consists of.CLOWN: We eat all that for supper last night.MASTER: Eat what, sir?CLOWN: Why, the eggs and bacons.MASTER: I said exhibition, sir, not eggs and bacon — you’re

always thinking of your belly, sir.CLOWN: If I don’t think of my belly, my belly would soon think of me.MASTER: Tell the ladies and gentlemen we have a young lady on thetightrope.CLOWN: My master has a young lady who will eat half a pound ofwhite soap.MASTER: The great conjuror who performs with rings, money, cards,balls, and other apparatus.CLOWN: The great blunderer who performs with kings, honey, yards,walls, and other apples and taters.MASTER: You’re telling the people nothing but a parcel of lies, sir.

CLOWN: What do you keep me for?MASTER: To speak the truth, sir.CLOWN: That’s another lie. (32)

Throughout the eighteenth century, popular theaters that played to non-aristocratic audiences were subject to frequent political harassment. Many wereclosed outright, while others were denied the right to perform plays, on thegrounds that certain licensed theaters (the Comédie Française, for example) had amonopoly on drama. The fairground actors resorted to all sorts of trickery to getaround the restrictions. Since monologues were not officially considered to beplays, one actor might speak for the rest, or each actor might leave the stageafter his speech, thus allowing another “monologuist” to enter. One typical reportto the police read: “Mr. Commissioner, we have noticed that these spectaclescontain two kinds of monologues: one in which two people address each otherwithout speaking, and the other in which they address and answer each otherby means of the other actors behind the sceneS.”33 Audiences of courseunderstood the political repression involved, and the actors gained in sympathyand popularity as a result.

These restrictions, common to both France and England, did not usuallyinclude pantomime. This led to the development of silent forms of drama basedon the commedia characters and physicality, but with less emphasis onimprovisation. In London, Harlequin, Pantaloon, and Columbine found a newhome in English pantomime, a hybrid form that later even came to include

dialogue while retaining the name ofpantomime. (34) The place of Pierrot,however, was usurped by a familiarfigure, the British rustic clown (seealso chapter 5).

French pantomime was born at thefairs, and only later moved to theheart of Paris, becoming quite the rageat the Théâtre des Funambules (Theaterof the Ropewalkers) where Jean-Gaspard Deburau (1796-1846) reignedas a melancholy, wistful Pierrot. Notonly were the Funambules actorscompelled by law to remain silent,they even had to open their show witha somersault or a dance on the rope.

Deburau has since become alegend, thanks to Marcel Carné’s film,Children of Paradise (1945). The moviebeautifully evokes the popular theaterof the 1820s and 1830s, but is otherwisea little too inventive in most of itsdetails. Deburau, for example, neverperformed the Old Clothes Manpantomime, and his stage personalitywas far more varied than the filmindicates. He was not a specificcharacter with a predetermined status,but appeared instead in a variety ofguises. According to his firstbiographer, Jules Janin, Deburau’sPierrot was in turn “joyful, sad, sick,healthy, aggressive, defensive, amusician, a poet, a simpleton, always

Jean-Gaspard “Baptiste” Deburau, wistful Pierrotof the 1820s and 1830s.

Jean-Louis Barrault as Deburau in Marcel Carné’sfilm, Children of Paradise (1945)

poor, just like the common people. It is these people Deburau represents in allhis dramas.”

Deburau was distinguished less by his sentimentality, and more by his subtletyas a performer. His Pierrot was an otherworldly creature, pale as the moon, theonly character to remain mute even after restrictions on speech had been lifted.Deburau was noted for his “imperturbable composure, wonderful facialexpressions, his agility and his astonishing skill . the placidity that he brought tohis Pierrot roles formed an enormous contrast with the exuberance, theproliferating gestures, the jumps, which his predecessors had employed.” (35)Deburau’s Pierrot became far more important than Harlequin on the Frenchstage. He was no longer the stupid valet, for he was too proud to occupy such alowly position. French poet Théophile Gautier writes:

With him the role of Pierrot was entirely removed from its origins and thenexpanded until it ended up occupying the entire piece. . . . Pierrot, under theflour and tunic of that illustrious actor, assumed the airs of a master, and anaplomb unsuited to the character. He no longer received kicks, he gave them.Harlequin now scarcely dared to touch Pierrot’s shoulders with his slapstick.Cassandre would think twice before boxing his ears. He would kiss Columbineand pass an arm around her waist like a seducer in a comic opera. He caused theentire action of the piece to revolve around himself, and he attained such a degreeof insolence and audacity that he would even beat his own good genius. Thestrong personality of the great actor overbore the type. (36)

The transformation of first Harlequin and then Pierrot into the romanticizedheroes of English and French pantomime left the door open for the reappearanceof a more boisterous and buffoonish clown. And by the late eighteenth century,a peculiar new form of entertainment was gaining in popularity, one in whichall sorts of clowns would be welcome: the circus.