The history of the harlequinade, volume 2 (of 2) — Inside the Classic

The Old Man’s Many Names

Sand’s Pantaloon chapter is essentially a catalogue of aliases. He lists over twenty names for the comic old man, from Greek Pappus to Molière’s Sganarelle, and insists they are all the same figure. The evidence is not merely nominal: he quotes M. Ferdinand Fouque on the Atellan Pappus, who is “sometimes a miserly, libidinous, finicking and astute old man, sometimes a simple old fellow of good faith.” Sand adds that the Osci had another old man, Casnar, who “nowise differed from Pappus.”

This accumulation of equivalents serves a polemical purpose. Sand is arguing for the continuity of comic types across centuries and national traditions. He does not, however, claim that all these characters are identical in every play; rather, they share a core of being “duped and mocked, afflicted with rheum and coughs, and, above all, unhappy.” The list itself becomes evidence of a theatrical constant.

Scenario as Character Study

Sand devotes considerable space to summarizing complete scenarios, such as the one involving Harlequin, Fenocchio, Pantaloon, and Olivette. In this plot, Harlequin disguises himself as a pig to gain access to his beloved, only to be nearly dissected by the apothecary Pantaloon. The summary includes dialogue: when Pantaloon wakes to broken bottles, he cries, “Nane! Nane! Drive out the cats that have got into my shop!” Harlequin’s aside reveals his predicament: “He takes me for a cat, I am lost if he recognises me.”

These extended retellings are not mere filler. Sand uses them to demonstrate how the stock traits of Pantaloon—credulity, avarice, and a tendency to panic—drive the action. The apothecary’s readiness to believe an unlikely story, his admiration of the “beautiful body” for dissection, and his terror when Harlequin leaps up all reinforce the character sketch from the chapter’s opening. The scenario is the proof of the type.

The Limits of Evidence

Sand’s method relies heavily on printed scenarios and earlier scholarship, but he does not always distinguish between what he has read and what he infers. For instance, he states that Fenocchio “swears by all that there is most sacred (in which he does not compromise himself, seeing that he believes in nothing).” This parenthetical judgment is Sand’s own, not a quotation from a source. Similarly, the description of Pantaloon as “afflicted with rheum and coughs” may be a generalization from multiple texts rather than a single attested detail.

Readers should note that Sand occasionally attributes motives or inner states to characters without explicit textual support. The value of his work lies in the breadth of comparison and the vivid scenario summaries, not in strict philological rigor. The excerpts do not reveal whether Sand consulted original manuscripts or relied on published collections; his bibliography is not included in the sample.

Sand’s second volume is best read as a companion to the first, not as a standalone work. The chapter structure—one mask per chapter—makes it easy to dip into specific characters, but the cross-references reward consecutive reading. Pay attention to the footnotes and the list of illustrations; they hint at the visual sources Sand considered essential. The scenarios, though entertaining, are summaries; treat them as Sand’s interpretations, not as substitutes for the original plays.

Reading about Pantaloon’s stubborn, grasping gestures, I remembered how my grandfather would lower his paper to watch the evening light fail. That quiet fade, all gold dissolving to grey, came back to me later in Turner's Water-Colours at Farnley Hall — Key Ideas to Explore — where every wash feels like a held breath, a moment almost caught, then let go.