 | Ariadne : or The Triumph of Bacchus |  |
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ACT I.
Scene I.
In a pleasant champion Country, where at a little distance, through Vineyards and flowry Gardens, is seen the beautiful Palace of Bacchus; are also seen four rich Pavilions, between which, in the Front, is erected a Trophy of the slain, Minotaur Guards all along on both sides attending.Theseus, Pirithous, Berontus appear.
Thes.
Bright Fame and Beauty should Reward the Warrior
Who bravely to obtain 'em baffles Danger,
A Thought so ravishing inspires my Fancy.
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Soul of the World, whose charming Grace
Illustrates more than Titan's Race:
Oh Glory! thou still charm'st the Mind,
And mak'st the happy Hero find
A Rapture in the World below,
Which scarce cælestial Seraphs know.
Soul of the World, &c.
Illustrates more than Titan's Race:
Oh Glory! thou still charm'st the Mind,
And mak'st the happy Hero find
A Rapture in the World below,
Which scarce cælestial Seraphs know.
Soul of the World, &c.
Pirith.
The dreadful Minotaur is nobly conquer'd,
And all th'Athenian victim Youths reliev'd.
Thes.
But ah! the beauteous Hellen lives a Virgin,
Sad in her Prime, and drooping in OEbalia;
Whose rare uncommon Beauty has inflam'd me
To fierce Desire, and highest Blaze of Passion.
Oh Beauty all inspiring!
Thou kill'st me with admiring;
And yet whilst so I'm dying
Methinks I'm Heaven enjoying.
If as the lucky Warrior's Fee,
Thou ever gratefully wer't paid,
Extend thy Bounty now to me
In that angelick charming Maid.
Oh Beauty, &c.
Thou kill'st me with admiring;
And yet whilst so I'm dying
Methinks I'm Heaven enjoying.
If as the lucky Warrior's Fee,
Thou ever gratefully wer't paid,
Extend thy Bounty now to me
In that angelick charming Maid.
Oh Beauty, &c.
Beron.
Fame of your Actions from my Country drew me,
But still my Heart with native Ice is freezing,
Which still controuls the scorching Blaze you mention.
Pirith.
Oh most renown'd of lovely Women!
How much she glory in her Fortune,
Whom mighty Theseus designs to honour?
But oh the Fate of Ariadne!
Thes.
Is happy as the Gods could order;
For tho' she follows me to Naxos,
And gave me proof of ardent Passion,
By kindly guiding thro' the Labyrinth,
My Feet unus'd to such Mæanders;
Yet leaving her to sacred Bacchus,
Whose Love intends to deifie her,
My Infidelity turns Favour,
And justifies my Flight to Hellen.
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Oh how my Gall o'erflows! [Aside.
I now am bursting
The Spleen and crowding Vapours will consume me.
Pirith.
Ye Powers that sway the Mind, what nice Occasion
Can on the sudden raise such strange Disorder!
Beron.
Excuse, oh Princes! Scythians all to Bacchus
Bear a long dated and severe Aversion;
Nor are we thought to do it without Reason.
Air.
Happy's the Nation by a Prince,
Who with sound Reason sways, and Sense;
But most forlorn, by one that rules,
And makes 'em Madmen all, and Fools.
Happy's the, &c.
Who with sound Reason sways, and Sense;
But most forlorn, by one that rules,
And makes 'em Madmen all, and Fools.
Happy's the, &c.
Thes.
From India lately he return'd with Conquest,
And for that fam'd and glorious Expedition,
Is here at Naxos with a Triumph honour'd.
Pirith.
Strong Passion every Hour inflames him,
Which Ariadne more advances,
Whilst you by Art of fine Dissembling
Feed her with Smiles the Hour you leave her.
They were created to deceive,
Like Measure then they ought to have;
Women are wav'ring as the Wind,
And therefore should be paid in kind;
Like Measure always let 'em have,
They were created to deceive.
They were created, &c.
Like Measure then they ought to have;
Women are wav'ring as the Wind,
And therefore should be paid in kind;
Like Measure always let 'em have,
They were created to deceive.
They were created, &c.
Drums and Trumpets are heard, and shouts of Joy within.
Beron.
The God appears wanton and rosie,
And I, and my Dislike, must shun him.
[Exit. Beron.
Enter Bacchus and Abdalla, with a Train of Indians and Bacchinals.
Bac.
How gay is infant Bloom of young Desire,
When Morning comes, to sweeten the Debauches
With which Saturnia and the Grape has blest us.
Thes.
Love fills the Scenes with cælestial Gladness.
Pirith.
Hope too has always something new and pleasing.
Abdal.
And sprightly Wine to both, gives large Additions.
Air.
Whenever I'm sad my three Bottles I drink,
For the more I am Toping the less still I Think.
Vexation and Cares
About worldly Affairs,
Some national Strife,
A new Plot, or a Wife,
Oft puzzle the Poll,
And teaze a Man's Soul;
But Wine still relieves, and a good hearty Dose
Gives a welcome Repose,
And makes him be merry, would else be morose.
For the more I am Toping the less still I Think.
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About worldly Affairs,
Some national Strife,
A new Plot, or a Wife,
Oft puzzle the Poll,
And teaze a Man's Soul;
But Wine still relieves, and a good hearty Dose
Gives a welcome Repose,
And makes him be merry, would else be morose.
Pirith.
How free from Melancholly are the Natives
In India, where hot Phœbus shews his Power;
This happy Prince is still to Care a Stranger.
Thes.
His conquer'd Country gives no sad Reflection,
The Joy he finds in following Linæus
Controuls all ill Effects of wav'ring Fortune.
Bacch.
His Mirth affords my Hours perpetual Solace!
But oh, my Friend! how trifling is such Pleasure
Compar'd to the sweet Smiles of Ariadne?
Hast thou resolv'd, thou most Divine of Humanes,
To keep thy Word, and with unequal Kindness
Dole me a Joy by leaving her behind thee.
Excelling what I share in being Immortal?
Thes.
Down in a Citron Grove, where gentle Breezes
From Indian Jessamine, Assyrian Roses,
Improv'd by Eglantine, and luscious Orange
Increase the Od'rous Breath of fragrant Zephire;
The charming Maid now lonely lies expecting
My Morning Visit, there I'll straight accost her
With Tidings of the Triumph's gay Performance,
And your cælestial Faculties, e'er Vesper
Adorns the Evening's Gloom.—She's yours.
Bacch.
Embrace me,
And share my Bosom from this happy Moment;
Cleave to my Heart—thence to my Bower of Pleasure.
Pirith.
Where in full Bowls, perfum'd with mingling Amber,
We'll make Oblation to bright Paphian Venus,
And there implore her Aid.
Abdall.
Attending Cupids
To toast their Mother, will be hovering round ye.
Bacchus and Theseus.
Of all Joys were e'er possest,
Air.
Love and Wine are still the best.
Sweetly they by turns controul,
Wine the Heart, and Love the Soul;
Wealth and Power strive in vain
Equal Happiness to gain;
Wine superior Joy do's prove,
And in sober Seasons—Love.
Of all Joys, &c.
Sweetly they by turns controul,
Wine the Heart, and Love the Soul;
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Equal Happiness to gain;
Wine superior Joy do's prove,
And in sober Seasons—Love.
Of all Joys, &c.
[Exeunt embracing.
SCENE II.
Enter Ariadne and Cellania, Doppa waiting.Ariad.
Again, sweet Philomel, that warbling Cadence
Think not on Tereus now, lost be the Story;
The baleful Crimes of Rape and odious Falshood,
With which Mankind by ours are daily branded,
No more be mentioned for the sake of Theseus.
Cell.
Fondly you may believe, but oh! be certain,
The Brave are not confirm'd to be most constant.
Air.
Winter's Ice producing Roses,
Balmy Rest from poyson'd Doses;
Without Lightning to hear the Thunder,
Constant Man is more a Wonder.
Winters Ice, &c.
Balmy Rest from poyson'd Doses;
Without Lightning to hear the Thunder,
Constant Man is more a Wonder.
Winters Ice, &c.
Ariad.
Some strong Disgust, Cellania has inflam'd thee;
Fell Disappointment rouzing Female Anger,
Or slighted Passion, gives thee cause of Railing,
But happy I have Quiet in my Bosom.
Air.
Like a heavenly Seraph blest, is that cælestial Maid,
Who by Parents ne'er was crost, nor by her Love betray'd;
Who secur'd by Innocence against Misfortunes Spight,
Wears the Day unpain'd by Care, and sweetly too the Night.
Fortify'd by Providence, can with ill Stars contend,
And tho' Time be her greatest Foe, is us'd still like a Friend.
Like a heavenly, &c.
Who by Parents ne'er was crost, nor by her Love betray'd;
Who secur'd by Innocence against Misfortunes Spight,
Wears the Day unpain'd by Care, and sweetly too the Night.
Fortify'd by Providence, can with ill Stars contend,
And tho' Time be her greatest Foe, is us'd still like a Friend.
Like a heavenly, &c.
Enter Theseus, with Bombey and Tracis.
Thes.
Flora, the Queen of vernal Grace,
All the delightful Plants and Flowers,
From Ariadne take their Odours.
Ariad.
Theseus with his Mercurian Genius,
Each Female fair can make a Goddess.
Cell.
He can like all his Kind dissemble,
And if we will be Fools we may be.
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Sweet Seraph cease, for vain you make me,
And now to lead bright Ariadne,
From this her Bower of Contemplation;
I come to wait her to the Palace,
Where she'll in Triumph see great Bacchus,
Joy of all Hearts, Theam of all Voices,
The Soul of all that's brave and noble,
Appear in Pomp.
Ariad.
All Pomp is Folly;
Theseus is all my Eyes do covet,
And all that gives my Thoughts Employment.
Thes.
Too highly, charming fair, you treat me,
Now to shew Man in his wild Nature,
[Aside.
I'll veil resolv'd Inconstancy
With seeming Passion, nothing else can blind her.
Ariad.
Theseus—
[Passionately.]
Thes.
What would my Soul?
Ariad.
Inchanting Theseus.
Thes.
Heavenly Ariadne.
[Both joyning Hands.
Celan.
Like two fine Instruments that form a Consort,
They're now well tun'd, but will it last, I wonder?
[Apart.
Ariad.
With what auspicious Beams shone radiant Phœbus,
When I beheld thee first?
Thes.
That happy Night too,
When Cinthia silver'd with uncommon Brightness,
Adorn'd my fairest in the Labyrinth.
Ariad.
Venus—approv'd the dear Design.
Thes.
And Love's kind Deity,
Made sharp his Golden Darts, I was first wounded!
Ariad.
Ah no.
Thes.
Yes, yes.
Ariad.
No, no.
Thes.
Yes, yes.
Ariad.
Oh Theseus!
I, I, was wounded first, and deepest!
My Heart leapt up to meet the Stroke.
Thes.
Elizium—Breaths in thy Words.
Ariad.
For so much Worth too little
Transcendent Merit has ingag'd my Heart,
Thou'rt all in all, and all in every Part.
Thes.
Thou'rt all in all, &c.
Valour join'd with Wit inspiring,
Womens Hearts are always firing;
Fools that oft' are Undertakers,
Wanting Merit, bart'ring Acres;
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But have never true Possession:
They're each other still defeating,
'Tis on both sides only cheating.
Valour join'd, &c.
Thes.
How charming from the Fair are Praises?
Inspire me, Love, to make an Answer!
I'm yours whilst Time has Date,—Oh Mercury!
Favour this Lye I'm blest.
[Aside.
Cellan.
Here's Words sufficient.
Thes.
Come away sweet Charmer.
Cellan.
But oh! the Heart, the Heart, Words are but Vapours.
Thes.
Come to the Triumph.
Ariad.
I am all Obedience.
Air by Bacchus and Ariadne.
Dazling Pomp, and awful State,
Suit the Hero brave and great,
Love in brilliant Beauty set,
Making it still more transcending.
Glory charms the Warriour's Mind,
If the Fair one too prove kind,
No Contentment's left behind,
Worth enjoying or commending.
[Exeunt he leading her.
Bombey and Doppa stay; he having long been making Grimaces behind, comes forward and Sings.
Bomb.
E'er since our Phœbus fond of Rest,
Last Night, made more than wonted haste,
To bath with Thetis in the West,
I've had strange Qualms within my Breast.
Doppa with fine black rowling Eyes,
Has made poor Bombey's Heart her Prize;
Be kind then dearest of all Dears,
For I'm in Love up to the Ears.
Doppa.
If Bombey loves, he must prepare,
To clip his Horns, and shave his Hair;
Instead of causing Love, they scare.
The Hoofs too hid within his Shoes,
In Bed a tender Maid will bruise.
They must be par'd.
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With all my Heart;
Nor will I cry Oh, at the Smart.
Doppa.
Why then, because you Woodland Satyrs,
Are not well skill'd in Courtly Matters;
Besides, to prove I'm tender hearted,
I'll shew ye how to dress and please me.
Bomb.
Oh, how my Heart jumps within me!
But what can change this Hair so matted?
Doppa.
A flaxen Peruke finely powder'd.
Bomb.
But then my Face, so red and tawny.
Doppa.
It must be flead with boiling Water.
Bomb.
Odzooks 'twill scald.
Doppa.
Oh—That's no Matter.
You without Prickles can't have Roses,
Nor be a Beau without some Trouble.
Air.
Our Sex are all refin'd, and now
There's nothing like a Modern Beau,
To lisp, and play well with a Fan,
Be more a Monkey than a Man;
A quart of Jelly drink with Ice,
And eat what's only dear and nice;
Forget to think, and hate to read
This, this is he,—that will succeed.
Our Sex are all, &c.
There's nothing like a Modern Beau,
To lisp, and play well with a Fan,
Be more a Monkey than a Man;
A quart of Jelly drink with Ice,
And eat what's only dear and nice;
Forget to think, and hate to read
This, this is he,—that will succeed.
Our Sex are all, &c.
Bomb.
For love of thee I'll be this Creature,
But in what Habit must I case me,
That this unseemly Hump may cover.
Doppa.
A fine lac'd Coat best Suits a Lover,
A Hat cockt up with Golden Button,
Form'd like a Minc'd Pie with three Corners;
'Tis all the Mode.
Bomb.
Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh!
Are these the Charms so fast can fetter?
Why as I am, I'm sure—much better.
Aire.
My Back is broad, I'm hot and young,
And shaggy Hair's a sign I'm strong;
Then I can climb the lofty Pine,
And Rape the tow'ring Eagle's Nest;
Or oft with curious Fly and Line,
Beguile the Trout, to make a Feast.
Then hunt the Stag, and snare the Fawns,
And like a Roe skip o'er the Lawns.
My Back is broad, &c.
And shaggy Hair's a sign I'm strong;
Then I can climb the lofty Pine,
And Rape the tow'ring Eagle's Nest;
Or oft with curious Fly and Line,
Beguile the Trout, to make a Feast.
Then hunt the Stag, and snare the Fawns,
And like a Roe skip o'er the Lawns.
My Back is broad, &c.
Doppa.
This won't do, this cannot take me;
And so farewel.
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Oh,—don't forsake me!
Doppa.
Obey, and dress then if you love me,
For nothing but a Beau can move.
Second Movement.
Bomb.
Then take me, and model me just to thy Mind,
Since Beauty much stronger than Reason can bind,
I'll once be a Coxcomb!
Doppa.
Why then I'll be kind.
Bomb.
Whatever Distinction in Breeding may be,
When a Female's i'th' Case,
Every Male is an Ass;
And the Man and the Satyr agree.
Both.
Whatever Distinction, &c.
[Exeunt.
The End of the First.
| Ariadne : or The Triumph of Bacchus | |