Chapter XIV: Prologue

Full twenty years, and more, our labouring stage
Has lost, on this incorrigible age:
Our poets, the John Ketches of the nation,
Have seemed to lash ye, even to excoriation;
But still no sign remains; which plainly notes,
You bore like heroes, or you bribed like Oates.--
What can we do, when mimicking a fop,
Like beating nut-trees, makes a larger crop?
'Faith, we'll e'en spare our pains! and, to content you,
Will fairly leave you what your Maker meant you.
Satire was once your physic, wit your food;
One nourished not, and t'other drew no blood:
We now prescribe, like doctors in despair,
The diet your weak appetites can bear.
Since hearty beef and mutton will not do,
Here's julep-dance, ptisan of song and show:
Give you strong sense, the liquor is too heady;
You're come to farce,--that's asses milk,--already.
Some hopeful youths there are, of callow wit,
Who one day may be men, if heaven think fit;
Sound may serve such, ere they to sense are grown,
Like leading-strings, till they can walk alone.--
But yet, to keep our friends in countenance, know,
The wise Italians first invented show;
Thence into France the noble pageant past:
'Tis England's credit to be cozened last.
Freedom and zeal have choused you o'er and o'er; }
Pray give us leave to bubble you once more; }
You never were so cheaply fooled before: }
We bring you change, to humour your disease;
Change for the worse has ever used to please:
Then, 'tis the mode of France; without whose rules,
None must presume to set up here for fools.
In France, the oldest man is always young,
Sees operas daily, learns the tunes so long,
Till foot, hand, head, keep time with every song:
Each sings his part, echoing from pit and box,
With his hoarse voice, half harmony, half pox[1].
_Le plus grand roi du monde_ is always ringing,
They show themselves good subjects by their singing:
On that condition, set up every throat;
You whigs may sing, for you have changed your note.
Cits and citesses, raise a joyful strain,
'Tis a good omen to begin a reign;
Voices may help your charter to restoring,
And get by singing, what you lost by roaring.

Footnote: 1. This practice continued at the opera of Paris in the time of Gay. It could hardly have obtained any where else.

"But, hark! the full orchestra strikes the strings,
The hero struts, and the whole audience sings;
My jarring ear harsh grating murmurs wound.
Hoarse and confused, like Babel's mingled sound.
Hard chance had placed me near a noisy throat,
That, in rough quavers, bellowed every note:
"Pray, Sir," said I, "suspend awhile your song,
The opera's drowned, your lungs are wondrous strong;
I wish to hear your Roland's ranting strain,
When he with rooted forests strews the plain."--
"_Monsieur assurement n'aime pas la musique._"
Then turning round, he joined the ungrateful noise,
And the loud chorus thundered with his voice."
_Epistle to the Right Hon. William Pulteney._

Names of the Persons, represented in the same
order as they appear first upon the stage.

MERCURY.
AUGUSTA. _London._
THAMESIS.
DEMOCRACY.
ZELOTA. _Feigned Zeal._
ARCHON. _The General._
JUNO.
IRIS.
ALBION.
ALBANIUS.
PLUTO.
ALECTO.
APOLLO.
NEPTUNE.
NEREIDS.
ACACIA. _Innocence._
TYRANNY.
ASEBIA. _Atheism,_ or _Ungodliness._
PROTEUS.
VENUS.
FAME.
_A Chorus of Cities._
_A Chorus of Rivers._
_A Chorus of the People._
_A Chorus of Furies._
_A Chorus of Nereids and Tritons._
_A grand Chorus of Heroes, Loves, and Graces._

THE

FRONTISPIECE.

The curtain rises, and a new frontispiece is seen, joined to the great pilasters, which are seen on each side of the stage: on the flat of each basis is a shield, adorned with gold; in the middle of the shield, on one side, are two hearts, a small scroll of gold over them, and an imperial crown over the scroll; on the other hand, in the shield, are two quivers full of arrows saltyre, &c.; upon each basis stands a figure bigger than the life; one represents Peace, with a palm in one, and an olive branch in the other hand; the other Plenty, holding a cornucopia, and resting on a pillar. Behind these figures are large columns of the Corinthian order, adorned with fruit and flowers: over one of the figures on the trees is the king's cypher; over the other, the queen's: over the capitals, on the cornice, sits a figure on each side; one represents Poetry, crowned with laurel, holding a scroll in one hand, the other with a pen in it, and resting on a book; the other, Painting, with a pallet and pencils, &c.: on the sweep of the arch lies one of the Muses, playing on a bass-viol; another of the Muses, on the other side, holding a trumpet in one hand, and the other on a harp. Between these figures, in the middle of the sweep of the arch, is a very large pannel in a frame of gold; in this pannel is painted, on one side, a Woman, representing the city of London, leaning her head on her hand in a dejected posture, showing her sorrow and penitence for her offences; the other hand holds the arms of the city, and a mace lying under it: on the other side is a figure of the Thames, with his legs shackled, and leaning on an empty urn: behind these are two imperial figures; one representing his present majesty; and the other the queen: by the king stands Pallas, (or wisdom and valour,) holding a charter for the city, the king extending his hand, as raising her drooping head, and restoring her to her ancient honour and glory: over the city are the envious devouring Harpies flying from the face of his majesty: By the queen stand the Three Graces, holding garlands of flowers, and at her feet Cupids bound, with their bows and arrows broken, the queen pointing with her sceptre to the river, and commanding the Graces to take off their fetters. Over the king, in a scroll, is this verse of Virgil,

_Discite justitiam, moniti, et non temnere divos._

Over the queen, this of the same author,

_Non ignara mali, miscris succurrere disco._

ALBION AND ALBANIUS.

AN

OPERA.

DECORATIONS OF THE STAGE IN THE FIRST ACT.

_The Curtain rises, and there appears on either side of the Stage, next to the Frontispiece, a Statue on Horseback of Gold, on Pedestals of Marble, enriched with Gold, and bearing the Imperial Arms of England. One of these Statues is taken from that of the late King at Charing-cross; the other from that figure of his present Majesty (done by that noble Artist, Mr. Gibbons) at Windsor._

_The Scene is a Street of Palaces, which lead to the Front of the Royal-Exchange; the great Arch is open, and the view is continued through the open part of the Exchange, to the Arch on the other side, and thence to as much of the Street beyond, as could possibly be taken._

MERCURY DESCENDS IN A CHARIOT DRAWN BY RAVENS.

_He comes to Augusta and Thamesis. They lie on Couches at a distance from each other in dejected postures; She attended by Cities, He by Rivers._

_On the side of Augusta's Couch are painted towers falling, a Scarlet Gown, and a Gold Chain, a Cap of Maintenance thrown down, and a Sword in a Velvet Scabbard thrust through it, the City Arms, a Mace with an old useless Charter, and all in disorder. Before Thamesis are broken Reeds, Bull-rushes, Sedge, &c. with his Urn Reverst._