At various times and in various manners, by letters and in newspaper
interviews, Leoncavallo reiterated the statement that the incident
which he had witnessed as a boy in his father's courtroom had suggested
his drama. The chief actor in the incident, he said, was still living.
After conviction he was asked if he felt penitent. The rough voice
which rang through the room years before still echoed in Leoncavallo's
ears: "I repent me of nothing! On the contrary, if I had it to do over
again I'd do it again!" (Non mi pento del delitto! Tutt altro. Se
dovessi ricominciare, ricomincerei!) He was sentenced to imprisonment
and after the expiration of his term took service in a little Calabrian
town with Baroness Sproniere. If Mendes had prosecuted his action,
"poor Alessandro" was ready to appear as a witness and tell the story
which Leoncavallo had dramatized.
I have never seen "La Femme de Tabarin" and must rely on Mr. Philip
Hale, fecund fountain of informal information, for an outline of the
play which "Pagliacci" called back into public notice: Francisquine,
the wife of Tabarin, irons her petticoats in the players' booth. A
musketeer saunters along, stops and makes love to her. She listens
greedily. Tabarin enters just after she has made an appointment with
the man. Tabarin is drunk--drunker than usual. He adores his wife; he
falls at her feet; he entreats her; he threatens her. Meanwhile the
crowd gathers to see the "parade." Tabarin mounts the platform and
tells openly of his jealousy. He calls his wife; she does not answer.
He opens the curtain behind him; then he sees her in the arms of the
musketeer. Tabarin snatches up a sword, stabs his wife in the breast
and comes back to the stage with starting eyes and hoarse voice. The
crowd marvels at the passion of his play. Francisquine, bloody, drags
herself along the boards. She chokes; she cannot speak. Tabarin, mad
with despair, gives her the sword, begs her to kill him. She seizes the
sword, raises herself, hiccoughs, gasps out the word "Canaille," and
dies before she can strike.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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