The Mime has been so completely forgotten that
many are surprised to find it rightly included, along
with the dance, comedy, and tragedy, in the procession
of scenic arts.

The word is familiar enough. It has been used and
abused. As for what it actually designates, that is another
matter . . .

Indeed, historians and scholars tell us of the Chinese
and Japanese theatre, of Deburau (the original Pierrot),
and particularly of the legendary Livius Andronicus.
Faithful to his muse as she was to him, Andronicus never
gave up his calling. Having lost his voice, he had a
chorister speak the lines, while he, Livius, mimed to
the piping of the flute and the rhythmic clash of cym-
bals: the Mime was born.

Revered Livius Andronicus, your child has grown,
and no longer requires words, or even vocal mime. It
avoids symbols and allegories; signs, your signs, now
autonomous, are enough.

This does not apply, of course, to the Mime of the
dancer ^* to the Commedia dell'arte, nor to the circus.

The ancient ballets, beside the pure dance varia-
tions and the Pas d'Action ^** born from the fable, in-
cluded a mimed part. We do not consider it as belong-

-xvi-