Here we should properly say something about the drama, but we shall treat it briefly, seeing that in those days it was very far from displaying the same activity as at present. In particular, the women’s share in the drama was only that of a section of the public. It was above all the art of the prelates, who devoted as much care to altering its character as the women did to preserving the old romances. Thus the two great forces of platonism were pitted against each other—the prelates eager to advance, the women anxious to hang back. The drama with its modern tendencies took possession of Italy in the 15th century, and Rome was almost its birth-place. Pomponius Laetus, officially licensed to produce the plays of Plautus and Terence, died a few days after Savonarola. The ashes of the monk had been scattered to the winds; but all Rome was eager to accompany the remains of Laetus to Ara-Coeli, since it was a work of true piety to increase the joy of life. The palm for dramatic art was, with one consent, awarded to Bernardo Dovizio da Bibbiena, who had the happy notion to shake off the yoke of translation and to write a new piece in imitation of Plautus—the _Calandra_. Bibbiena[246] is one of the best types of this prelatic world, which after all cannot be dissociated from the world of women. He belonged to the inner circle of Leo X.’s friends, having been brought up with him, though the son of a peasant. He had a spirit and verve which, according to Paul Jove, “carried the gravest of people off their feet.” He was supremely in his element at the table. Moreover, he was one of those astonishing men who live at the same time a life of toil and of pleasure. On becoming a cardinal he displayed vast activity—acted as legate, preached a crusade, and died at fifty. He has left a goodly number of treatises, poems, and letters; but it was the drama that made him famous. It is impossible to describe the stir the first representation of his _Calandra_ made at Urbino, the home of platonism. Everything was planned with the care and skill of perfect “amateurs.” The stage represented stucco monuments and other scenic illusions executed by such artists as that age afforded. The auditorium, which was not marked off from the scenery, represented fortifications, and the spectators lolled there at their ease on excellent carpets, amid lustres and garlands of flowers. The orchestra, placed out of sight, was heard now on one side, now on the other.