rom out the tortuous labyrinth of conventional
tragedies, _intermezzi cantabili_, and serious and comic operas in which
hitherto his talents had been imprisoned, and found his true road, that
of character comedy. His first attempt at a reforming novelty was the
abolition of the mask, to which he had a just objection, considering it,
with perfect reasonableness, as fatal to the development of the drama of
character.

But he was not to go on his road unhindered. War, so frequent in those
days of petty States, once more crossed his plans, and this conjoined to
his native love for roaming, inherited from his restless father, caused
him to sojourn in many cities, and encounter many adventures gay and
grave, all recounted by him with unfailing good temper in his Memoirs,
in which he never says an unkind word, even of his worst enemies; for
Goldoni's was an essentially amicable character. He writes of himself:--

"My mental nature is perfectly analogous to my physical; I fear neither
cold nor heat, neither do I let myself be carried away by anger, nor be
intoxicated by success.... My great aim in writing my Comedies has been
not to spoil nature, and the sole scope of my Memoirs is to tell the
truth.... I was born pacific, and have always kept my equanimity."

These words sum up the man and the author. In Goldoni the perfect
equilibrium of the faculties of the man correspond to the perfectly just
and accurate sense of truth and naturalness which is revealed in the
writer.

After five years spent in Pisa, practising, and not unsuccessfully, as
a lawyer, and hoping he had sown his theatrical wild oats, and had now
settled down as a quiet burgher, Goldoni was roused from this day-dream
(which after all did not reflect his deepest sentiments, but only an
acquired worldly wisdom) by an offer from Medebac, the leader of a group
of comedians, to join his fortune to theirs as dramatic author to the
company. After some hesitation, his old love for the stage gained the
upper hand, and Goldoni assented, binding himself to Medebac for a
certain number of years. From that time forward he remained true to
his real passion, the theatre.

The company proceeded to Venice, at that time in the last days of its
glory, but dying gaily, merrily. The Venice of those days, an author of
the time said, was as immersed in pleasure as in water. And above all
did its inhabitants love the play. To this city, among this people,
Goldoni returned, one of