 | Muses in Mourning |  |
5
ACT I.
SCENE I.
The curtain drawing up, discovers a scene of Mount Parnassus; Pegasus in the proper attitude. The Muses, in garlands, and dresses, expressive of their characters, ascend, successively, into sight, from between the two points, and come down, on the right, and left, into their respective places, distinguished by niches, adorned with pilasters, supporting cornices, with compartments, in which are painted their several musical instruments: after which, appears a globe of light, like the evening sun, above the hill, which, descending out of sight, discovers Apollo in his seat, at the head of the Nine Muses: an altar at the foot of the hill.Air I.
First division, with a trumpet.
Apol.
Now with joy, O ye Muses! let the trumpet of glory
Sound the triumphs of fame, for the heroes of story.
[Martial.
Second division, with a flute.
Now, let the flute, attemp'ring gladness,
Sigh, to the soul, in tuneful sadness.
[Plaintive.
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Till the gay vision, starting, earnest, and airy,
Bids the wanton measures vary.
[Wanton.
Fourth division, with a base-viol.
But, hark! each changing note, new passion shakes;
Each aweful sound a deep impression makes;
The heart glows, conscious; and the bosom quakes.
[Aweful.
Fifth division, with a hautbois.
O'er the mind, on each occasion,
Music brings a soft invasion;
Now, 'tis hope; 'tis, now, persuasion.
[Persuasive.
Sixth division, with a lute.
She loves, and Graces, now—all, smile, transporting,
Each melting note dies soft—each word is courting.
[Amorous.
Seventh division, with a flagelet.
But, if a new purpose is light, as the air is,
Still to the subject, the harmony varies.
[Jiggish.
Eighth division, with an organ.
In sounding anthems music swells desire,
Till, loud, and solemn, all the glowing choir
Flame, with expanded soul, in sacred fire.
[Solemn.
Ninth division, to a French horn.
Fame's empire the Muses inherit;
They praise, and reward, and give spirit;
They lend an ambition to merit.
[Hunting tune.
Apol.
to the Muses.]
Tuneful creators of immortal sounds!
Ye souls of music, rest.—Behold, who comes!
Pallas! great partner of our heaven-born care!
Some danger o'er the Muses' empire low'rs;
High Pindus, conscious bows, his laurell'd top,
And whole Parnassus, trembling to his root,
Groans with impending dread!—Hail, Goddess, hail!
[At the entrance of Pallas, Apollo and the Muses rise, and bow, from their places; then reseat themselves.
—Daughter of Jove! Imperial charmer, hail!
Doubly victorious Power! whom arts, and arms,
Dependent—with eternal empire crown.
Pal.
Spring of ætherial day! thou eye of heaven!
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Guardian of Wit, and Health! Apollo, hail!—
—Late, has my olive, breath'd on by the Nine,
And bath'd, and temper'd, in Aonian dews,
Shed peaceful influence on the western world;
Hush'd is the voice of war; and waking realms
Hearken, delighted, to the Muses' call:
Genius, rekindling, glows, with promis'd wit,
And dawns faint meaning on the nations round.
Apol.
Fruit of thy care! thou bright'ner of the soul!
Pal.
Fall'n Italy, long deaf to every charm,
But music's voice, and love's;—imperious Spain,
Loud France, and sullen England's moping spleen,
Join'd with the bustling Dutchman's plodding power,
Devoted, all, conspire to sigh for wit:
Each nation's Genius, separate, seeks my smile;
Each to my courted feet, his offerings brings,
And prays to be protected, and inspir'd.
Partial to none, but conscious, what respect
Is yours, celestial Muses! and your God's!
Hither I guided their unanswer'd prayer:
Resolv'd to have no choice, but your decree.
Apol.
Goddess of Wisdom, wisely hast thou judg'd!
Uniting, thus, when diff'rent Pow'rs concur,
Each makes his influence double.
Air II.
Uniting, thus, when diff'rent Pow'rs concur,
Each makes his influence double.
Wit and wisdom greatly vary,
Tho' the world suppose 'em one:
Each alone, they both miscarry,
One too dull, and one too airy:
Neither's task compleatly done.
Wou'd you give new force to either?
Take, and join 'em both together.
Tho' the world suppose 'em one:
Each alone, they both miscarry,
One too dull, and one too airy:
Neither's task compleatly done.
Wou'd you give new force to either?
Take, and join 'em both together.
Pal.
Approach, ye Nations! let your suits be heard,
The Muses, and their leading Light, all, smile,
Indulgent to your hopes.
The Muses, and their leading Light, all, smile,
Indulgent to your hopes.
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The voice of war shall, now, be heard no longer,
The shade of death, no more, shall darken joy;
The jocund shepherd's reed, now, sounding stronger,
In love, and peace, shall music's charms employ:
The fame of wit shall, now, cause emulation,
And new ambition fire each rising nation.
The shade of death, no more, shall darken joy;
The jocund shepherd's reed, now, sounding stronger,
In love, and peace, shall music's charms employ:
The fame of wit shall, now, cause emulation,
And new ambition fire each rising nation.
Pal.
Queen of the nations! far-fam'd Italy!
Once, a distinguish'd name.
Enter Genius of Italy; his dress, like that of a lover, in an Opera, with a plume of feathers, and white satin robe, embroidered with flaming hearts, intermix'd with musical instruments: in his hands, a roll of music scores, round a double-headed gilt staff.
Recitativo.
G. of It.
Inspiring Power!
And ye, fair Muses! once adorning me!
And by my sons most honour'd! yet once more,
Give me, to shine supreme, in envied wit;
And deign to take these offerings, which I bring,
Devoted to your shrine.
Air IV.
And ye, fair Muses! once adorning me!
And by my sons most honour'd! yet once more,
Give me, to shine supreme, in envied wit;
And deign to take these offerings, which I bring,
Devoted to your shrine.
Take, ye Muses, take, ye Muses,
Wealth, that idle greatness chuses;
Sounding nonsense, sweetly chiming,
Airs for Opera, softly rhiming;
Music scores, the pride of scening,
Take our songs, and give us meaning.
Wealth, that idle greatness chuses;
Sounding nonsense, sweetly chiming,
Airs for Opera, softly rhiming;
Music scores, the pride of scening,
Take our songs, and give us meaning.
All the while this air is singing, he lets run a long roll of music score, which, at the end of the song, he lays down on the altar.
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Genius of Spain, unbending, and elate!
Of height unshorten'd and unvaried nod!
Raise thy slow foot, and step serenely on.
Enter Genius of Spain, like a formal Spanish Don, in a bays cloak; a long spada by his side; and, under each arm, a large bag of money.
G. of Sp.
I thank ye, Gods! you, from the youth of time,
Knew, and confess'd your gifts most due to Spain.
My empire, like eternity, no line
Not circular, can figure; for the sun,
In his wide compass, when he rounds the globe,
Forms but a ring, the measure of my crown,
And sets, and rises, in the realms, I rule.
Knew, and confess'd your gifts most due to Spain.
My empire, like eternity, no line
Not circular, can figure; for the sun,
In his wide compass, when he rounds the globe,
Forms but a ring, the measure of my crown,
And sets, and rises, in the realms, I rule.
All unaccustom'd I to hope in vain,
Let my due thanks, thus low, anticipate
Apollo's purpos'd bounty; what to ask
Yet, scarce resolv'd:—but what possess'd, far known
Air V.
Let my due thanks, thus low, anticipate
Apollo's purpos'd bounty; what to ask
Yet, scarce resolv'd:—but what possess'd, far known
Bless'd with all, that's worth desiring,
In our taste, alone, too low
Keep our fancy still aspiring,
Let our judgment overflow:
Swell our sense above brayada,
And accept this warlike spada;
[Draws his spada, and lays it down, as also the gold and silver, on the altar.
In our taste, alone, too low
Keep our fancy still aspiring,
Let our judgment overflow:
Swell our sense above brayada,
And accept this warlike spada;
Strongly to guard, what Muses slightly hold,
Inspiring silver, and inflaming gold.
Inspiring silver, and inflaming gold.
Pal.
Genius of France! gay spirit of loud delight,
Lively concealer of design, in mirth!
Dance into sight; and, at the Muses' feet,
Lay thy meant off'rings, and address thy prayer.
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G. of Fr.
Fam'd for vivacity, and inbred fire,
From fruitful France all nations borrow wit,
The vivid growth of nature!—What I ask,
Is, that Apollo, since I shine, supplied,
With-holds his smile from others.—'Tis my fame,
To lend my lights, and glitter among nations:
To guide their learning, fashions, thoughts, and taste,
And, oft, to change, and to be follow'd, ever.
Air VI.
From fruitful France all nations borrow wit,
The vivid growth of nature!—What I ask,
Is, that Apollo, since I shine, supplied,
With-holds his smile from others.—'Tis my fame,
To lend my lights, and glitter among nations:
To guide their learning, fashions, thoughts, and taste,
And, oft, to change, and to be follow'd, ever.
Fond of the wit, we so long have been fam'd for,
Still, O Apollo! confine it to France:
'Tis a request, that we cannot be blam'd for,
Modest, as any, we use to advance;
Take, in acknowledgment, all the French favours,
Which, for an age, over Europe have pass'd:
Dresses to form, and to fashion behaviours,
This is our empire—O, grant it to last.
Still, O Apollo! confine it to France:
'Tis a request, that we cannot be blam'd for,
Modest, as any, we use to advance;
Take, in acknowledgment, all the French favours,
Which, for an age, over Europe have pass'd:
Dresses to form, and to fashion behaviours,
This is our empire—O, grant it to last.
During the song, he draws out of his pockets, and throws about, a great quantity of toupees, black bags, shoulder knots, ribbons, and feathers.
Pal.
Advance, Dutch Mightiness! huge growth of care!
Industrious heaviness! unshining gem!
Dull dignity! untowering eminence!
Holland's swoll'n Genius! next, present thy claim;
Envied, by none, be wonder'd at by all:
And speak thy blunt proposal.
Enter Genius of Holland, like a fat Dutch skipper; under his left arm a puncheon: in his right hand, the impal'd lion's staff, headed with the hat of Liberty; to which is hanging a string of herrings.
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—They say that I want wit—shou'd that be true,
As true it may be, since I deal not in't;
'Tis fit, that I shou'd buy some—sell it me,
Apollo! good Mynheer! and company!
And take, because my bargains, all, are just,
Take, in exchange, two quick commodities,
Of price, to purchase wit, beyond my call,
If Muses are fair traders.
[Presents his puncheon of brandy, and string of herrings.
As true it may be, since I deal not in't;
'Tis fit, that I shou'd buy some—sell it me,
Apollo! good Mynheer! and company!
And take, because my bargains, all, are just,
Take, in exchange, two quick commodities,
Of price, to purchase wit, beyond my call,
If Muses are fair traders.
Air VII.
Tho' wit may be proud of its worth,
Let none undervalue good drinking;
Here's brandy can soon give it birth,
And raise a weak head to strong-thinking:
Pickle herring's an excellent whet,
And will love of good brandy beget:
And, since wit is of brandy's conferring,
The Muses shou'd love pickle herring.
Let none undervalue good drinking;
Here's brandy can soon give it birth,
And raise a weak head to strong-thinking:
Pickle herring's an excellent whet,
And will love of good brandy beget:
And, since wit is of brandy's conferring,
The Muses shou'd love pickle herring.
Pal.
Genius of England! thou art last, advance,
Worthiest, yet, least assur'd—for ever stand,
Thou, self-supported: strongest, when alone,
Nor weak, but where assisted.—Plain, and brave,
Be bold to speak thy claim.
Enter Genius of England, like a gentleman-commoner, with a square cap: in one hand a pen in an inkhorn; in the other, a few roll'd sheets of blank paper.
G. of Eng.
I, conscious of no public want, but one,
Derive that want from plenty:—Smile, ye Nine!
Nor thou, Apollo! great inspirer! frown,
But firm my honest prayer.—All England writes;
Learn'd, and unlearn'd, each sex, all ages write!
Untaught, unask'd, unprais'd, unread, they write.
O, take these sheets, ye Muses! harmless, yet,
[Presents the blank paper, and pen and ink, on the altar.
Derive that want from plenty:—Smile, ye Nine!
Nor thou, Apollo! great inspirer! frown,
But firm my honest prayer.—All England writes;
Learn'd, and unlearn'd, each sex, all ages write!
Untaught, unask'd, unprais'd, unread, they write.
O, take these sheets, ye Muses! harmless, yet,
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And blank, as witlings' brains are.—Set us copies,
And bless, indulgent to our courteous readers,
Bless the wide-scribling nation, with new skill,
That flatt'ry, when it paints, may learn to shade,
And faction, to enlighten
Air VIII.
And bless, indulgent to our courteous readers,
Bless the wide-scribling nation, with new skill,
That flatt'ry, when it paints, may learn to shade,
And faction, to enlighten
Wou'd Apollo, to puzzle the Muses all Nine,
Contrive, how to set 'em a task without end;
Let 'em influence party with party to join,
And Will to treat Bob, like a brother, and friend:
Let 'em make, men in place,
Strive, and pray, to be eas'd;
And those, in disgrace,
Contented, and pleas'd:
Apollo shall be my Lord Treasurer then,
And the Muses be married to parliament men.
Contrive, how to set 'em a task without end;
Let 'em influence party with party to join,
And Will to treat Bob, like a brother, and friend:
Let 'em make, men in place,
Strive, and pray, to be eas'd;
And those, in disgrace,
Contented, and pleas'd:
Apollo shall be my Lord Treasurer then,
And the Muses be married to parliament men.
Pal.
Sovereign decider! thou hast heard the claims;
Pronounce thy wish'd decree.
Apol.
Nations, 'tis well;
Silent, I lent my ear to every plea,
Impartially attentive:—Now, be dumb;
And hear my general judgment.—Italy,
Possessing wit, in vain, deserves no more;
Unconscious of its uses:—Haughty Spain,
Misled by superstition, cripples truth,
And fetters thought with the constraint of stiffness:
France is, in age, too dry, and sour, for wit,
In youth, too light, and wanton:—Holland creeps
Too prone, and abject, for the Muse's wing;
And thinks, too thrivingly, to wish the waste
Of Fancy's losing liveliness.—Thou, then,
England's adaptive Genius! temper'd soft,
And turn'd, for wit, or folly! friend to both,
And both, by turns, preferring: be thou mine!
Henceforth the Muses, watchful of thy wish,
Shall cultivate good taste, support true wit;
And shine in thy productions:—nor was this
Undue to thy late modesty, that own'd
A want, while these but prided in possession.
Air IX.
Silent, I lent my ear to every plea,
Impartially attentive:—Now, be dumb;
And hear my general judgment.—Italy,
Possessing wit, in vain, deserves no more;
Unconscious of its uses:—Haughty Spain,
Misled by superstition, cripples truth,
And fetters thought with the constraint of stiffness:
France is, in age, too dry, and sour, for wit,
In youth, too light, and wanton:—Holland creeps
Too prone, and abject, for the Muse's wing;
And thinks, too thrivingly, to wish the waste
Of Fancy's losing liveliness.—Thou, then,
England's adaptive Genius! temper'd soft,
And turn'd, for wit, or folly! friend to both,
And both, by turns, preferring: be thou mine!
Henceforth the Muses, watchful of thy wish,
Shall cultivate good taste, support true wit;
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Undue to thy late modesty, that own'd
A want, while these but prided in possession.
While Italy boasts of her music,
And Spain of her silver and gold:
While France is of vanity too sick,
And Holland to traffic is sold:
Let England be known for her merit,
Her learning, her honour, and wit;
Let her scorn a low fame to inherit,
And prize, what is noble, and fit.
And Spain of her silver and gold:
While France is of vanity too sick,
And Holland to traffic is sold:
Let England be known for her merit,
Her learning, her honour, and wit;
Let her scorn a low fame to inherit,
And prize, what is noble, and fit.
Pal.
Genius of England, crown'd with due success,
Stay, and enjoy thy fortune:—Get ye hence,
Ye disappointed rivals;—re-imbark:
And, unaspiring to be chiefs in wit,
Pursue more dull distinctions.
Air X.
G. of It.
Away, away,
Come away,
I'll not stay,
No, no, no:
I will go,
Come away.
Air XI.
G. of Sp.
Since Apollo is so rough,
'Tis enough;
Off I blow him with a puff,
And rate him at a pinch of snuff;
'Tis enough.
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G. of Fr.
Ha, ha, ha,
This plot shall miscarry;
I can parry:
Sa, sa, sa.
Air XIII.
G. of Hol.
Let others follow proud Apollo;
Your Muse is a jade.
Unacquainted with trade,
And too poor for a Dutchman to follow.
But I'll outwit 'em;
And to fit 'em,
E'en take back my brandy, and leave 'em the herring;
'Tis a stock, that they'll want, and I'll keep the transferring.
All Gen. successively.
It.
—Oh,
Sp.
—Oh,
Fr.
—Oh,
Hol.
—Oh.
All. Gen. successively.
It.
—Woe,
Sp.
—Woe,
Fr.
—Woe,
Hol.
—Woe.
Gen. of Hol.
—Give us comfort, O France!
Gen. of Fra.
—Come, along, let us dance.
All, in succession
It.
—Oh,
Sp.
—Oh,
Fr.
—Oh,
Hol.
—Oh.
At the entrance upon this last line, they form a dance to slow, mournful music, in heavy, dull steps; one shaking the body, another the head, a third shrugging the shoulders, &c. and go out dancing.
Apol.
Now, ye pleas'd Muses! smile upon your choice,
And, slow-descending, with due welcome, greet
Your fav'rite Genius.
The Muses come, severally, down from the hill, in measured motions, stepping to the sound of the instruments, in air the
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Apol.
First of the Muses, bay-crown'd Clio, this!
Gives heroes fame, and teaches praise to live:
This is Euterpe, with her flow'ry wreath,
Sweet softner of the soul.—Thalia, this,
Whose temples a broad ivy garland binds,
She, to gay comedy, attunes the mind,
And laughs mankind to virtue.—This, Melpomene,
Bright, in her coronet of radiant gems,
That glitter, like her fancy: Tragedy,
And all its scepter'd powers, obey this Muse,
And the soul shakes before her.—Eloquence,
And sweet Persuasion, next, in Polyhimnia,
Pay England's genius homage; her loose hair,
Spread, and soft flowing, emblem of her words.—
Next, Erato, brings danger in her eye,
Kindler of love's sweet flame; her every step,
Ten thousand Cupids, arm'd, attend, unseen,
And shoot their influence round her: from her brow,
Roses, and myrtles, drink eternal bloom,
To shed it, on her votaries.—Terpsichore,
Gay, as her feathery garland, breathes in song;
Light, as the airs, which tremble from her tongue!
She swells the raptur'd soul, to float on sound,
And melts it into music.—This, Urania,
Muse, most belov'd of Heaven! her starry crown
Shines amidst planets, when she sails the skies,
Detective of the vast profound of heaven!
And stoops the stars, to guide astronomy.
Calliope, circling her front with gold,
Is the protector Muse, who gathers bays,
To shade the poet's facred brow, from thunder.
—Ever ador'd be your auspicious powers,
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Bloom, for ungrasp'd eternity!
G. of Eng.
Oh, smile,
Propitious powers of meaning! passion's guides!
Ye, who disturb the mind to mend the heart,
And charm, with gen'rous purpose! Ever smile;
Ever, thus partial, bless your votary's prayer.
Air XIV.
Propitious powers of meaning! passion's guides!
Ye, who disturb the mind to mend the heart,
And charm, with gen'rous purpose! Ever smile;
Ever, thus partial, bless your votary's prayer.
What are good fortune, distinction, and greatness,
If wit is but wanting, the rest to adorn?
No man is happy, whom all his elateness,
Untemper'd with reason, but lists into scorn:
Wisdom, alone, can to bliss recommend us,
High fortunes expose, but high virtues defend us.
If wit is but wanting, the rest to adorn?
No man is happy, whom all his elateness,
Untemper'd with reason, but lists into scorn:
Wisdom, alone, can to bliss recommend us,
High fortunes expose, but high virtues defend us.
Apol.
Clio!—bright leader of the tuneful train,
Guide the lov'd stranger to the sacred spring;
And let his favour'd taste confess its powers.
The Muses join, here, in a grand dance, after which, Clio gives her hand to the Genius of England, and leads him up the hill; follow'd by all the Muses, in a repetition of the measures, and music, abovemention'd. They ascend in front, and bowing, as they pass by Apollo, descend, out of sight, on the contrary side.
Pal.
Now, wou'd high Jove confirm Apollo's choice,
He makes our purpose, fate!
Apol.
Jove shall be sought:
England has enviers, e'en among the Gods.
Juno is fond of Spain for she loves pride,
It recommends her peacocks.—Love smiles, warm,
On amorous Italy.—Vulcan's whole shop
Glows red, for Holland's service. Active France,
Is dear to Mercury; whose shadowy wiles,
Those fine drawn subtleties, which fools call wit,
Import more danger, to our favourite charge,
Then all the open anger of those powers,
Who, bravely, own their enmity.—Jove's Fiat
Secures us from their practices: for this,
Resolv'd, I tread, forthwith, the courts of heaven;
Pallas, mean while, will guard the Muses' hope.
Air XV.
England has enviers, e'en among the Gods.
Juno is fond of Spain for she loves pride,
It recommends her peacocks.—Love smiles, warm,
On amorous Italy.—Vulcan's whole shop
Glows red, for Holland's service. Active France,
Is dear to Mercury; whose shadowy wiles,
Those fine drawn subtleties, which fools call wit,
Import more danger, to our favourite charge,
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Who, bravely, own their enmity.—Jove's Fiat
Secures us from their practices: for this,
Resolv'd, I tread, forthwith, the courts of heaven;
Pallas, mean while, will guard the Muses' hope.
Swift, attend me, radiant Light,
From the day-spring's glowing store,
Dart a beam, effulging bright,
Flaming, half creation o'er!
Then, revolving, shoot above,
And bear me to the throne of Jove.
From the day-spring's glowing store,
Dart a beam, effulging bright,
Flaming, half creation o'er!
Then, revolving, shoot above,
And bear me to the throne of Jove.
At the close of this air, a sunbeam shoots down, and snatches Apollo up, from the mount.
Air XVI.
Pal.
Go, go,—my good wishes attend you,
Keep your fav'rite constant, and true;
But, till more than your wisdom befriend you
I'll forfeit my skill, if you do.
Old England is apt to take dudgeon,
And not very clearly to see;
She's restive, by fits, and won't budge on,
But, like her own wits of South Sea,
Will let go a whale for a gudgeon,
And cry—what a profit have we!
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