In the splendid theatre of La Scala, there
was a ballet of action performed after the opera, under the title
of Prometheus: in the beginning of which, some hundred or two of
men and women represented our mortal race before the refinements ofthe arts and sciences, and loves and graces, came on earth to soften them. I never saw anything more effective. Generally speaking, the pantomimic action of the Italians is more remarkable
for its sudden and impetuous character than for its delicate
expression, but, in this case, the drooping monotony: the weary,
miserable, listless, moping life: the sordid passions and desires
of human creatures, destitute of those elevating influences to
which we owe so much, and to whose promoters we render so little:
were expressed in a manner really powerful and affecting. I should
have thought it almost impossible to present such an idea so
strongly on the stage, without the aid of speech.
-- Charles Dickens, 1844, "Pictures From Italy"
According to Edoardo Bolchesi's notes in the 1879 Italian translation of "Pictures From Italy", the "Prometheus" ballet was put on at La Scala choreographed by Augusto Huss in the autumn of 1844; Dickens caught in a double bill with Bellini's "I Capuleti e i Montecchi".
Speaking of Prometheus: Mengelberg's doesn't suck like, at all.