 | The Paphian Bower ; or, Venus and Adonis |  |
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Scene First.
—The Paphian Bower—Temple, with statues of Venus and Cupid—in front an altar with hearts burning upon it—Hymen attending them, torch in hand, and occasionally tying two together, when the flames go out and he throws them into a gilt basket beside him, placing at the same time fresh ones upon the altar—several little Loves are assisting him—The Three Graces occupy the centre of the stage in a classical group, and Cupid is seen sharpening his arrows on a grindstone.
Quintette—“Five times by the taper's light.”
Hymen.
Five times by my torch's ray
I've tied up hearts in pairs to-day.
Cupid.
Where's mother?
Hymen.
She's gone out to roam.
If she have luck
She'll bring the buck
To whom she's ta'en a fancy home.
Hymen, Cupid, and Graces.
Home! home! she'll soon come home,
Swift to the woodland vale below,
We saw her dart to bring her beau
Home, home, home.
Hymen.
Hymen.
Five times by my torch's ray
I've tied up hearts in pairs to-day.
Cupid.
Where's mother?
Hymen.
She's gone out to roam.
If she have luck
She'll bring the buck
To whom she's ta'en a fancy home.
Hymen, Cupid, and Graces.
Home! home! she'll soon come home,
Swift to the woodland vale below,
We saw her dart to bring her beau
Home, home, home.
By Jupiter, I vow it's quite amazing
To see how these fond hearts will keep on blazing
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Until I tie 'em up in pairs together,
When 'stead of burning brighter thus united,
Out they all go, and cannot be relighted.
Cupid.
Well, all I know is, that they've kindled fairly,
Ought to burn well, and be extinguished rarely.
To keep them nicely trimmed your care should be,
So if they get blown out, don't blow up me.
If you neglect them till they smoke and smother,
You can't much wonder if they trim each other.
(a ra ta ta tat without)
Run to the door!
(Exit a Love)
Some Post from Greece or Rome.
The Love returns.
The nine Miss Muses. Will you be at home?
Cupid.
Always to them.
Hymen.
Oh, shew 'em up, of course.
1st. G.
Have they all come upon their flying horse?
Love.
No, please your Grace, whene'er they visit us,
They come in Cloud's blue-bodied omnibus.
The man behind politely pulls the line,
And says in accents soft, “Descend ye nine.”
(Exit Love)
1st. G.
The omnibus for ladies of their rank!
2nd. G.
They run from Mount Parnassus to the Bank.
Cupid.
Run to the Bank! no, no, you silly wench,
From Mount Parnassus they run to the Bench.
Music—The Nine Muses enter as described.
Cupid.
Three times three welcomes to the tuneful nine.
Clio, I vow you're looking quite divine!
How Miss Euterpe does I need not ask;
And gay Thalia smiles like her own mask.
Melpomene, “with stately step and slow,”
(music)
Terpsichore “on light fantastic toe,”
(music)
Miss Polyhymnia, Muse of dulcet song,
(music)
And Erato, of numbers sweet and strong.
Calliope, the eloquent and wise,
And fair Urania, always in the skies!
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As ready to bowl down the other eight.
Thal.
(to Cupid)
Your mother's not at home! but well, no doubt!
Cupid.
She'll be distressed you call'd while she was out.
You come so seldom; while with some excuses,
Cupid is always calling on the Muses.
1st. G.
You'll some refreshment after your long ride take!
3rd G.
A glass of cyprus. Hymen, cut some bride cake.
Mel.
No wine for us—pure water from the spring—
Pierian, Heliconian—anything.
Cupid.
Pure water? pshaw! this choice liqueur, I'm sure,
You can't object to—'tis Parfait amour.
Thal.
Oh, worse and worse! Wine gets into the head,
But this would get into the heart instead.
Adieu, my love—good morning to your Graces,
We must make haste, or we shall lose our places.
The omnibus comes by your Temple Bar.
Cupid.
You shall not go till you have seen mamma.
She is expected every minute now.
Ven.
(singing without)
Oh, where, and oh where is my hunting laddie gone?
Thal.
Hark! that's her voice!
Venus appears in the distance.
Mel.
'Tis Venus 'self, I vow!
“But mercy on us! what has changed her eyes?
“They used to shame the azure of the skies,
“And now they're hazel, and her locks of light,
“Are dark as Erebus.
Cupid.
“You're very right;
“But take no notice of it, for the truth is
“That she enamoured of a silly youth is
“Who slights her passion, and her grief and care
“Have changed the colour of her eyes and hair;
“So on this point I beg you don't attack her.
“You'll only make her look a great deal blacker.”
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(advancing)
Ah me! sad hours seem long!
Mel.
In Paphos' bowers,
Prithee what sadness lengthens beauty's hours?
Ven.
The Muses here! I was about invoking
Your potent aid! with grief you see me choking.
The Queen of Love is baffled by a boy
As beautiful as he, alas, is coy.
Thal.
Proceed.
Ven.
In speech or song?
Clio.
If Clio chooses,
'Twill be in song.
All the Others.
Oh, music for the Muses.
Song—Venus—“Sally in our Alley.”
Of all the swains that are so smart,
I dearly love Adonis;
And pit-a-pat will go my heart,
Till he bone of my bone is.
No buckskin'd beau of Melton Mow-
bray rides so capitally.
Oh, he's the darling of my heart,
And he hunts in our valley!
I dearly love Adonis;
And pit-a-pat will go my heart,
Till he bone of my bone is.
No buckskin'd beau of Melton Mow-
bray rides so capitally.
Oh, he's the darling of my heart,
And he hunts in our valley!
Jupiter and the neighbours all
Make game of me and Dony;
But notwithstanding I with him
Contemplate matrimony.
For he can play on the cornet,
And sing most musically;
And not a Duke in all the land
Can beat him at “Aunt Sally.”
Make game of me and Dony;
But notwithstanding I with him
Contemplate matrimony.
For he can play on the cornet,
And sing most musically;
And not a Duke in all the land
Can beat him at “Aunt Sally.”
Thal.
We were about to go, but we'll remain,
If we can help you to subdue your swain.
A lad so fond of horses can't refuse
An invitation coming from a muse.
Send for him in my name.
Ven.
He'll not be won!
Mel.
If Dian, then, would cause the game to run
This way—he would, of course, be sure to follow!
(to Cupid)
Fly, Love, and ask—you'll find her in the hollow.
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I fear 'tis all in vain. His heart I've tried.
(Exit Cupid)
Hunting he loves; but love he can't abide.
Glee—Venus, &c.—“Even as the Sun.”
(Exit Cupid)
Hunting he loves; but love he can't abide.
Soon as the sun has changed his dappled greys,
For those bright bloods he drives till eventide,
Rose-cheeked Adonis rises with his rays.
Hunting he loves; but love he can't abide.
For those bright bloods he drives till eventide,
Rose-cheeked Adonis rises with his rays.
Hunting he loves; but love he can't abide.
Re-enter Cupid.
Cupid.
Well, Dian's done it! yonder goes the stag,
And after him Adonis on his nag;
And now she makes it throw him!
Ven.
Oh, he's hurt!
Cupid.
No, only had a tumble in the dirt.
Hymen.
He's up again, but cannot catch his horse,
And so has taken to his legs perforce.
Ven.
He comes!
Ad.
(without)
Yoicks! yoicks! tantivy! hark away!
Ven.
“How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues” by day.
Enter Adonis.
Ad.
Thrown off and out! confound that jade, I say.
Why, where the dickens have I got to, eh?
Here's a whole pack of jades! 'ware women! zounds!
If they give tongue, the deuce can't hear the hounds.
Ven.
Turn, gentle hunter! turn and rest thee here.
Dost thou not know me? I am thine own dear.
Ad.
I wish you were, for then you'd be a shy one.
'Tis the first time I e'er was hunted by one.
Ven.
Can you not learn to love?
Ad.
No, I'm too stupid.
Ven.
Take but one lesson from Professor Cupid.
This is my son, sir.
Ad.
What, that little jockey!
Is he the gentleman who plays at hockey
With people's hearts?
Cupid.
Have you got one to play with?
Ad.
Yes, but not one that you shall ride away with.
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Will you not listen to the three fair Graces?
Ad.
Take off the G, and make them three fair races?
Ven.
Give the nine Muses, then, a patient hearing.
Ad.
That's three times three, yet anything but cheering.
Chorus—Muses—“Robert le Diable.”
The tuneful nine, unless thy heart be marble,
Will not in vain their blended powers essay.
With airs divine from Robert le Diable,
'Tis hard indeed, if they don't win the day.
The tuneful nine with airs divine,
Will win the day, we're bold to say, &c.
Solo—Venus—(From the same)
Quit the chase, my dear Adonis,
Cut the turf and kennel clean,
Sell your hunters, racers, ponies,
Burn your Sporting Magazine.
Broken hearts we hear of,
But we seldom see the wrecks.
There is much more fear of
Broken arms or necks.
Quit the chase, &c.
Cut the turf and kennel clean,
Sell your hunters, racers, ponies,
Burn your Sporting Magazine.
Broken hearts we hear of,
But we seldom see the wrecks.
There is much more fear of
Broken arms or necks.
Quit the chase, &c.
Why at clubs with legs be betting,
When the course to hearts is clear?
Why cleaned out at dice be getting,
When a paradise is here?
Here's the game, all fair, sir;
And if other fare you love,
From all the bell we bear, sir,
For real turtle-dove.
Quit the chase, &c.
When the course to hearts is clear?
Why cleaned out at dice be getting,
When a paradise is here?
Here's the game, all fair, sir;
And if other fare you love,
From all the bell we bear, sir,
For real turtle-dove.
Quit the chase, &c.
Ven.
Nay, sweet Adonis, if the Muses tease you,
Love will take ev'ry step on earth to please you
Ballet—Cupid and Others.
Ad.
Madam, I tell you plainly as I can,
It's of no use. I'm not a marrying man.
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That you have got a lawful husband living.
And as a friend of mine says, “Dash the wig o' me,”
Jove may indict us both, you know, for bigamy.
Ven.
If you mean Vulcan, on my reputation,
There is a proper deed of separation.
The learned Proctors all, sir, did agree
A lame old tinker was no match for me;
And if it had been with a goddess regal,
The marriage of the blacksmith was not legal.
Ad.
But don't there run some story 'mongst the stars
Of a flirtation with a chap named Mars?
Ven.
Oh, that's a very, very old affair.
I've cut the fellow a long time, I swear.
Enter Love, announcing.
Love.
Field-Marshal Mars!
Enter Mars.
Ad.
Heyday! what next, I wonder?
Mars.
Guns, trumpets, blunderbusses, drums, and thunder!
A traitor in the camp!
Ven.
I'm all confusion!
Cupid.
Provoking!
Ad.
Here's a burst!
Ven.
Why this intrusion?
To my boudoir who granted you admission?
Mars.
This, ma'am, to me? gunpowder and perdition!
Sir (to Adonis)
, do you come here as this lady's wooer?
Ad.
Not I, i'faith! I've nothing to say to her.
But if you've anything to say to me
There is my card.
Mars.
'Tis well, sir! we shall see!
Thal.
Dear gentlemen, I hope you'll go no further!
Oh, mercy on us, ladies! here'll be murther!
Mel.
Murder! I hope there will, with all my heart.
'Tis long since tragedy has had a start!
Ad
(to Mars)
With sword or pistol?
Mars.
Swords my weapons are.
Mars is a planet, not a shooting star.
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Plan it which way you please, for you can't beat me
At either.
Mars.
That, sir's, to be tried, so meet me.
Duet—Mars and Adonis—“Meet me by moonlight.”
Mars.
Meet me by moonlight alone,
At half after nine without fail.
You know, sir, where stands the mile-stone
In the grove at the end of the vale!
You must promise to come, for I've said,
And to keep my word strictly I mean.
I'll leave you of all bodies dead—
The deadest that ever was seen.
So meet me by moonlight alone!
Yes, meet me by moonlight alone!
At half after nine without fail.
You know, sir, where stands the mile-stone
In the grove at the end of the vale!
You must promise to come, for I've said,
And to keep my word strictly I mean.
I'll leave you of all bodies dead—
The deadest that ever was seen.
So meet me by moonlight alone!
Yes, meet me by moonlight alone!
Ad.
I'll! meet you by night or by day,
But if you'll just take a friend's hint,
The doctor should be in the way
With tourniquet, bandage, and lint.
Remember, be sure to be there,
For though little the lady I prize,
Some credit 'twill be, I declare,
To cut out a star from the skies.
So meet me by moonlight alone!
Yes, meet me by moonlight alone!
But if you'll just take a friend's hint,
The doctor should be in the way
With tourniquet, bandage, and lint.
Remember, be sure to be there,
For though little the lady I prize,
Some credit 'twill be, I declare,
To cut out a star from the skies.
So meet me by moonlight alone!
Yes, meet me by moonlight alone!
Ven.
This mustn't be! harness my team of sparrows;
I will to Bow Street, swift as Cupid's arrows.
Give information—call out the police,
And bind them over both to keep the peace.
Concerted Piece—“Mosé in Egitto.”
Venus, Muses and Graces, Hymen, &c.
Murder! Here's a fine to-do—fine to-do!
Let us all fly the city to—city to.
Cupid.
To spoil sport 'tis a pity too—pity too;
A duel looks so well next day in printers' ink.
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Yes, indeed, here's a fine to-do—fine to-do.
Who d'ye think, sir's, afraid of you—'fraid of you?
Mince meat soon shall be made of you—made of you.
You're a nice man—you're a nice man, I don't think.
Ven.
How can you be two such geese—two such geese?
Of your lives have you got a lease—got a lease?
Or, like cats, have you nine apiece—nine apiece?
That thus to gain éclat from risking one you think!
Murder, here's a fine to-do, &c.
Yes, indeed, here's a fine to-do, &c.
Confusion—closed in by
| The Paphian Bower ; or, Venus and Adonis | |