The Mistress of the Inn is fine watch. You wind it up; it runs. Waves of comic tension build to a near-riot, then subside to a gentle, calm, reflective ending. All but one man share a new understanding of love. Much has been made, can be made, and will be made of Goldoni and the commedia dell'arte. Too much can be made of this. You don't need to know anything about commedia to understand, enjoy and appreciate it. To be sure, the characters are all related to commedia character types, but so are most of the world's characters. These people are not masks, they are people, and there is no reason to try to tie them down to a tradition which they have obviously transcended. The essence of the play: love is explosive. Put a powder charge under somebody's heart and blow it sky-high, but watch out if you do, because the shrapnel is as likely to hit you as anybody else. Love is a force greater than any one person who might manipulate it, and people in love are people out of control.