NAPLES, 14th Oct.

At the Teatro Nuovo I have seen another Italian tragedy performed.  The piece was Tito Manlio Torquato, taken from the well known anecdote in the Roman history.  The scenery, decorations and costume were good and appropriate, not so the acting; for the actors as usual were imperfect in their parts.  I fully agree with Alfieri that Italy must be united and enjoy a free popular government before one can expect to see tragedies well performed.  It is very diverting to see the puppet shows at Naples and to hear the witticisms and various artifices of the showman of Pulcinello to secure payment in advance from his audience, who would otherwise go away without paying as soon as the performance was over.

This performance is much attended by the lazzaroni and faineans of the lower orders of Naples and the puppet showman is obliged to have recourse to various stratagems and ingenious sallies to induce a handsome contribution to be made.  Sometimes he will say with a very grave face (the curtain being drawn up and no Pulcinello appearing) that he is very sorry there can be no performance this day; for that poor Signor Pulcinello is sick and has no money to pay the Doctor:  but that if a quete be made for him, he will get himself cured and make his appearance as usual.  All the while that one of the showmen goes about collecting the grani, the other holds a dialogue with Pulcinello (still invisible).  Pulcinello groans and is very miserable.  At length the collection is made.  Pulcinello takes medicine, says he is well again, makes his appearance and begins.  At another time the audience is informed that there can be no performance as Pulcinello is arrested for debt and put in prison, where he must remain unless a subscription of money be made for him to pay his debts and take him out of gaol.  Then follows an absurd dialogue between Pulcinello (supposed to answer from the prison) and the showman.  The showman scolds him for being a spendthrift and leading a profligate life, calls him a briccone, a birbante, and Pulcinello only groans out in reply, Povero me, Povero Pulcinello, che disgrazia! sventurato di me! di non aver denari! These strokes of wit never fail to bring in many a grano.

At another time the curtain is drawn up and discovers a gibbet and Pulcinello standing on a ladder affixed to it with a rope round his neck.  The showman with the utmost gravity and assumed melancholy informs the audience that a most serious calamity is about to happen to Naples:  that Signor Pulcinello is condemned to be hanged for a robbery, and that unless he can procure molti denari to bribe the officers of justice to let him escape, he will inevitably be hanged and the people will never more behold their unhappy friend Pulcinello.  The showman now implores the commiseration of the audience, and now reproaches Pulcinello with his profligacy and nefarious pranks which have brought him to an untimely end.  Pulcinello sobs, cries, promises to reform and to attend mass regularly in future.  What Neapolitan heart can resist such an appeal?  The grani are collected.  Pulcinello gives money to the puppet representing the executioner; down goes the gibbet, and Pulcinello is himself again.