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, 232 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.
234 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.
ACT I.
Mercury Descends.
Mer. Thou glorious fabric! stand, for ever stand:
Well worthy thou to entertain
The God of Traffic, and of Gain,
To draw the concourse of the land,
And wealth of all the main.
But where the shoals of merchants meeting?
Welcome to their friends repeating,
Busy bargains' deafer sound?
Tongue confused of every nation?
Nothing here but desolation,
Mournful silence reigns around.
Aug. O Hermes! pity me!
I was, while heaven did smile,
The queen of all this isle,
Europe's pride,
And Albion's bride;
But gone my plighted lord! ah, gone is he!
235 O Hermes! pity me!
Tham. And I the noble Flood, whose tributary tide
Does on her silver margent smoothly glide;
But heaven grew jealous of our happy state,
And bid revolving fate
Our doom decree;
No more the King of Floods am I,
No more the Queen of Albion, she! [These two Lines are sung by Reprises betwixt Augusta and Thamesis.
| Aug. O Hermes! pity me! Tham. O Hermes! pity me! | } } } | Sung by Aug. and Tham. together. |
Aug. Behold!
Tham. Behold!
Aug. My turrets on the ground,
That once my temples crowned!
Tham. The sedgy honours of my brows dispersed!
My urn reversed!
Merc. Rise, rise, Augusta, rise!
And wipe thy weeping eyes:
Augusta!—for I call thee so:
'Tis lawful for the gods to know
Thy future name,
And growing fame.
Rise, rise, Augusta, rise.
Aug. O never, never will I rise,
Never will I cease my mourning,
Never wipe my weeping eyes,
Till my plighted lord's returning!
Never, never will I rise!
Merc. What brought thee, wretch, to this despair?
The cause of thy misfortune show.
Aug. It seems the gods take little care
Of human things below,
When even our sufferings here they do not know.
Merc. Not unknowing came I down,
Disloyal town!
236 Speak! didst not thou
Forsake thy faith, and break thy nuptial vow?
Aug. Ah, 'tis too true! too true!
But what could I, unthinking city, do?
Faction swayed me,
Zeal allured me,
Both assured me.
Both betrayed me!
Merc. Suppose me sent
Thy Albion to restore,—
Can'st thou repent?
Aug. My falsehood I deplore!
Tham. Thou seest her mourn, and I
With all my waters will her tears supply.
Merc. Then by some loyal deed regain
Thy long-lost reputation,
To wash away the stain
That blots a noble nation,
And free thy famous town again
From force of usurpation.
Chorus of all. We'll wash away the stain
That blots a noble nation,
And free this famous town again
From force of usurpation.[Dance of the Followers of Mercury.
Aug. Behold Democracy and Zeal appear;
She, that allured my heart away,
And he, that after made a prey.
Merc. Resist, and do not fear!
Chorus of all. Resist, and do not fear!
Enter Democracy and Zeal attended by Archon.
Democ. Nymph of the city! bring thy treasures,
Bring me more
To waste in pleasures.
Aug. Thou hast exhausted all my store,
And I can give no more.
237 Zeal. Thou horny flood, for Zeal provide
A new supply; and swell thy moony tide,
That on thy buxom back the floating gold may glide.
Tham. Not all the gold the southern sun produces,
Or treasures of the famed Levant,
Suffice for pious uses,
To feed the sacred hunger of a saint!
Democ. Woe to the vanquished, woe!
Slave as thou art,
Thy wealth impart,
And me thy victor know!
Zeal. And me thy victor know.
Resistless arms are in my hand,
Thy bars shall burst at my command,
Thy tory head lie low.
Woe to the vanquished, woe!
Aug. Were I not bound by fate
For ever, ever here,
My walls I would translate
To some more happy sphere,
Removed from servile fear.
Tham. Removed from servile fear. | ||
| A commonwealth's a load, Our old imperial flood, Shall never, never, never, bear again. | } } } | Thames. andAug. together. |
Dem. Pull down her gates, expose her bare;
I must enjoy the proud disdainful fair.
Haste, Archon, haste
To lay her waste[1]!
238 Zeal. I'll hold her fast
To be embraced!
Dem. And she shall see
A thousand tyrants are in thee,
A thousand thousand more in me!
Archon. to Aug. From the Caledonian shore
Hither am I come to save thee,
Not to force or to enslave thee,
But thy Albion to restore:
Hark! the peals the people ring,
Peace, and freedom, and a king.
Chorus. Hark! the peals the people ring,
Peace, and freedom, and a king.
Aug. and Tham. To arms! to arms!
Archon. I lead the way!
Merc. Cease your alarms!
And stay, brave Archon, stay!
'Tis doomed by fate's decree,
'Tis doomed that Albion's dwelling,
All other isles excelling,
By peace shall happy be.
Archon. What then remains for me?
Merc. Take my caduceus! Take this awful wand,
With this the infernal ghosts I can command,
And strike a terror through the Stygian land.
Commonwealth will want pretences,
Sleep will creep on all his senses;
Zeal that lent him her assistance,
Stand amazed without resistance. [Archon touches Democracy with a Wand.
Dem. I feel a lazy slumber lays me down:
Let Albion, let him take the crown.
239 Happy let him reign,
Till I wake again.[Falls asleep.
Zeal. In vain I rage, in vain
I rouse my powers;
But I shall wake again,
I shall, to better hours.
Even in slumber will I vex him;
Still perplex him,
Still incumber:
Know, you that have adored him,
And sovereign power afford him,
We'll reap the gains
Of all your pains,
And seem to have restored him.[Zeal falls asleep.
Aug. and Tham. A stupifying sadness
Leaves her without motion;
But sleep will cure her madness,
And cool her to devotion.
A double Pedestal rises: on the Front of it is painted, in Stone-colour, two Women; one holding a double-faced Vizor; the other a Book, representing Hypocrisy and Fanaticism; when Archon has charmed Democracy and Zeal with the Caduceus of Mercury, they fall asleep on the Pedestal, and it sinks with them.
Merc. Cease, Augusta! cease thy mourning,
Happy days appear;
God-like Albion is returning
Loyal hearts to chear.
Every grace his youth adorning,
Glorious as the star of morning,
Or the planet of the year.
Chor. Godlike Albion is returning, &c.
Merc. to Arch. Haste away, loyal chief, haste away,
No delay, but obey;
To receive thy loved lord, haste away.[Ex. Arch.
240 Tham. Medway and Isis, you that augment me,
Tides that increase my watery store,
And you that are friends to peace and plenty,
Send my merry boys all ashore;
Seamen skipping,
Mariners leaping,
Shouting, tripping,
Send my merry boys all ashore!
A dance of Watermen in the King's and Duke's Liveries.
The Clouds divide, and Juno appears in a Machine drawn by Peacocks; while a Symphony is playing, it moves gently forward, and as it descends, it opens and discovers the Tail of the Peacock, which is so large, that it almost fills the opening of the Stage between Scene and Scene.
Merc. The clouds divide; what wonders,
What wonders do I see!
The wife of Jove! 'Tis she,
That thunders, more than thundering he!
Juno. No, Hermes, no;
'Tis peace above
As 'tis below;
For Jove has left his wand'ring love.
Tham. Great queen of gathering clouds,
Whose moisture fills our floods,
See, we fall before thee,
Prostrate we adore thee!
Aug. Great queen of nuptial rites,
Whose power the souls unites,
And fills the genial bed with chaste delights,
See, we fall before thee,
Prostrate we adore thee!
Juno. 'Tis ratified above by every god,
241 And Jove has firmed it with an awful nod,
That Albion shall his love renew:
But oh, ungrateful fair,
Repeated crimes beware,
And to his bed be true!
Iris appears on a very large Machine. This was really seen the 18th of March, 1684, by Captain Christopher Gunman, on Board his R.H. Yacht, then in Calais Pierre: He drew it as it then appeared, and gave a Draught of it to us. We have only added the Cloud where the Person of Iris sits.
Juno. Speak, Iris, from Batavia, speak the news!
Has he performed my dread command,
Returning Albion to his longing land,
Or dare the nymph refuse?
Iris. Albion, by the nymph attended,
Was to Neptune recommended;
Peace and Plenty spread the sails,
Venus, in her shell before him,
From the sands in safety bore him,
And supplied Etesian gales.[Retornella.
Archon, on the shore commanding,
Lowly met him at his landing,
Crowds of people swarmed around;
Welcome rang like peals of thunder;
Welcome, rent the skies asunder;
Welcome, heaven and earth resound.
Juno. Why stay we then on earth,
When mortals laugh and love?
'Tis time to mount above,
And send Astræa down,
The ruler of his birth,
And guardian of his crown.
'Tis time to mount above,
And send Astræa down.
Mer. Jun. Ir. 'Tis time to mount above,
242 And send Astræa down.[Mer. Ju. and Ir. ascend.
Aug. and Tham. The royal squadron marches,
Erect triumphal arches,
For Albion and Albanius;
Rejoice at their returning,
The passages adorning:
The royal squadron marches,
Erect triumphal arches
For Albion and Albanius.
Part of the Scene disappears, and the Four Triumphal arches, erected on his Majesty's Coronation, are seen.
Albion appears, Albanius by his Side, preceded by Archon, followed by a Train, &c.
Full Chorus. Hail, royal Albion, Hail!
Aug. Hail, royal Albion, hail to thee,
Thy longing people's expectation!
Tham. Sent from the gods to set us free
From bondage and from usurpation!
Aug. To pardon and to pity me,
And to forgive a guilty nation!
Tham. Behold the differing Climes agree,
Rejoicing in thy restoration.
Entry. Representing the Four Parts of the World, rejoicing at the Restoration of Albion.
ACT II.
The Scene is a Poetical Hell. The Change is total; The Upper Part of the House, as well as the Side-Scenes. There is the Figure of Prometheus chained to a Rock, the Vulture gnawing his Liver; Sisyphus rolling the Stone; the Belides, &c. Beyond, Abundance of Figures in various Torments. Then a great Arch of Fire. Behind this, three Pyramids of Flames in perpetual Agitation. Beyond this, glowing Fire, which terminates the Prospect.
Pluto, and the Furies; with Alecto, Democracy, and Zelota.
Plu. Infernal offspring of the night,
Debarred of heaven your native right,
And from the glorious fields of light,
Condemned in shades to drag the chain,
And fill with groans the gloomy plain;
Since, pleasures here are none below,
Be ill our good, our joy be woe;
Our work to embroil the worlds above,
Disturb their union, disunite their love,
And blast the beauteous frame of our victorious foe.
Dem. and Zel. O thou, for whom those worlds are made,
Thou sire of all things, and their end,
From hence they spring, and when they fade,
In shuffled heaps they hither tend;
Here human souls receive their breath,
And wait for bodies after death.
Dem. Hear our complaint, and grant our prayer.
Plu. Speak what you are,
And whence you fell?
244 Dem. I am thy first-begotten care,
Conceived in heaven, but born in hell.
When thou didst bravely undertake in fight
Yon arbitrary power,
That rules by sovereign might,
To set thy heaven-born fellows free,
And leave no difference in degree,
In that auspicious hour
Was I begot by thee.
Zel. One mother bore us at a birth,
Her name was Zeal before she fell;
No fairer nymph in heaven or earth,
'Till saintship taught her to rebel:
But losing fame,
And changing name,
She's now the Good Old Cause in hell.
Plu. Dear pledges of a flame not yet forgot,
Say, what on earth has been your lot?
Dem. and Zel. The wealth of Albion's isle was ours,
Augusta stooped with all her stately towers.
Dem. Democracy kept nobles under.
Zel. Zeal from the pulpit roared like thunder.
Dem. I trampled on the state.
Zel. I lorded o'er the gown.
Dem. and Zel. We both in triumph sate,
Usurpers of the crown.
But oh, prodigious turn of fate!
Heaven controuling,
Sent us rolling, rolling down.
Plu. I wondered how of late our Acherontic shore
Grew thin, and hell unpeopled of her store;
Charon, for want of use, forgot his oar.
The souls of bodies dead flew all sublime,
And hither none returned to purge a crime:
But now I see, since Albion is restored,
Death has no business, nor the vengeful sword.
'Tis too, too much that here I lie
245 From glorious empire hurled;
By Jove excluded from the sky;
By Albion from the world.
Dem. Were common-wealth restored again,
Thou shouldst have millions of the slain
To fill thy dark abode.
Zel. For he a race of rebels sends,
And Zeal the path of heaven pretends,
But still mistakes the road.
Plu. My labouring thought
At length hath wrought
A bravely bold design,
In which you both shall join.
In borrowed shapes to earth return;
Thou, Common-wealth, a Patriot seem,
Thou, Zeal, like true Religion burn,
To gain the giddy crowd's esteem.—
Alecto, thou to fair Augusta go,
And all thy snakes into her bosom throw.
Dem. Spare some, to fling
Where they may sting
The breast of Albion's king.
Zel. Let jealousies so well be mixed,
That great Albanius be unfixed.
Plu. Forbear your vain attempts, forbear:
Hell can have no admittance there;
The people's fear will serve as well,
Make him suspected, them rebel.
Zel. You've all forgot
To forge a plot,
In seeming care of Albion's life;
Inspire the crowd
With clamours loud,
To involve his brother and his wife.
Alec. Take, of a thousand souls at thy command,
The basest, blackest of the Stygian band,
246 One, that will swear to all they can invent,
So thoroughly damned, that he can ne'er repent:
One, often sent to earth,
And still at every birth
He took a deeper stain:
One, that in Adam's time was Cain;
One, that was burnt in Sodom's flame,
For crimes even here too black to name:
One, who through every form of ill has run:
One, who in Naboth's days was Belial's son;
One, who has gained a body fit for sin;
Where all his crimes
Of former times
Lie crowded in a skin[2].
Plu. Take him,
Make him
What you please;
For he can be
A rogue with ease.
One for mighty mischief born;
He can swear, and be forsworn.
Plu. and Alect. Take him, make him what you please;
For he can be a rogue with ease.
Plu. Let us laugh, let us laugh, let us laugh at our woes,
The wretch that is damned has nothing to lose.—
Ye furies, advance
With the ghosts in a dance.
'Tis a jubilee when the world is in trouble;
247 When people rebel,
We frolic in hell;
But when the king falls, the pleasure is double.
[A single entry of a Devil, followed by an entry of twelve Devils.
Chorus. Let us laugh, let us laugh, let us laugh at our woes,
The wretch that is damned hath nothing to lose.
The Scene changes to a Prospect taken from the middle of the Thames; one side of it begins at York-Stairs, thence to White-Hall, and the Mill-bank, &c. The other from the Saw-mill, thence to the Bishop's Palace, and on as far as can be seen in a clear day.
Enter Augusta: She has a Snake in her Bosom hanging down.
Aug. O jealousy, thou raging ill,
Why hast thou found a room in lovers' hearts,
Afflicting what thou canst not kill,
And poisoning love himself, with his own darts?
I find my Albion's heart is gone,
My first offences yet remain,
Nor can repentance love regain;
One writ in sand, alas, in marble one.
I rave, I rave! my spirits boil
Like flames increased, and mounting high with pouring oil;
Disdain and love succeed by turns;
One freezes me, and t'other burns; it burns.
Away, soft love, thou foe to rest!
Give hate the full possession of my breast.
Hate is the nobler passion far,
When love is ill repaid;
For at one blow it ends the war,
And cures the love-sick maid.
248 Enter Democracy and Zelota; one represents a Patriot, the other, Religion.
Dem. Let not thy generous passion waste its rage,
But once again restore our golden age;
Still to weep and to complain,
Does but more provoke disdain.
Let public good
Inflame thy blood;
With crowds of warlike people thou art stored.
And heaps of gold;
Reject thy old,
And to thy bed receive another lord.
Zel. Religion shall thy bonds release,
For heaven can loose, as well as tie all;
And when 'tis for the nation's peace,
A king is but a king on trial;
When love is lost, let marriage end,
And leave a husband for a friend.
Dem. With jealousy swarming,
The people are arming,
The frights of oppression invade them.
Zel. If they fall to relenting,
For fear of repenting,
Religion shall help to persuade them.
Aug. No more, no more temptations use
To bend my will;
How hard a task 'tis to refuse
A pleasing ill!
Dem. Maintain the seeming duty of a wife,
A modest show with jealous eyes deceive;
Affect a fear for hated Albion's life,
And for imaginary dangers grieve.
Zel. His foes already stand protected,
His friends by public fame suspected,
Albanius must forsake his isle;
A plot, contrived in happy hour,
249 Bereaves him of his royal power,
For heaven to mourn, and hell to smile.
The former Scene continues.
Enter Albion and ALBANIUS with a train.
Alb. Then Zeal and Common-wealth infest
My land again;
The fumes of madness, that possest
The people's giddy brain,
Once more disturb the nation's rest,
And dye rebellion in a deeper stain.
II.
Will they at length awake the sleeping sword,
And force revenge from their offended lord?
How long, ye gods, how long
Can royal patience bear
The insults and wrong
Of madmen's jealousies, and causeless fear?
III.
I thought their love by mildness might be gained,
By peace I was restored, in peace I reigned;
But tumults, seditions,
And haughty petitions,
Are all the effects of a merciful nature;
Forgiving and granting,
Ere mortals are wanting,
But leads to rebelling against their creator.
Mercury descends.
Mer. With pity Jove beholds thy state,
But Jove is circumscribed by fate;
The o'erwhelming tide rolls on so fast,
It gains upon this island's waste;
And is opposed too late! too late!
250 Alb. What then must helpless Albion do?
Mer. Delude the fury of the foe,
And, to preserve Albanius, let him go;
For 'tis decreed,
Thy land must bleed,
For crimes not thine, by wrathful Jove;
A sacred flood
Of royal blood
Cries vengeance, vengeance, loud above.[Mercury ascends.
Alb. Shall I, to assuage
Their brutal rage,
The regal stem destroy?
Or must I lose,
To please my foes,
My sole remaining joy?
Ye gods, what worse,
What greater curse,
Can all your wrath employ!
Alban. Oh Albion! hear the gods and me!
Well am I lost, in saving thee.
Not exile or danger can fright a brave spirit,
With innocence guarded,
With virtue rewarded;
I make of my sufferings a merit.
Alb. Since then the gods and thou will have it so,
Go; (Can I live once more to bid thee?) go,
Where thy misfortunes call thee, and thy fate;
Go, guiltless victim of a guilty state!
In war, my champion to defend,
In peaceful hours, when souls unbend,
My brother, and, what's more, my friend!
Borne where the foamy billows roar,
On seas less dangerous than the shore;
Go, where the gods thy refuge have assigned,
Go from my sight; but never from my mind.
251 Alban. Whatever hospitable ground
Shall be for me, unhappy exile, found,
'Till heaven vouchsafe to smile;
What land soe'er,—
Though none so dear
As this ungrateful isle,—
O think! O think! no distance can remove
My vowed allegiance, and my loyal love.
Alb. and Alban. The rosy-fingered morn appears,
And from her mantle shakes her tears,
In promise of a glorious day;
The sun, returning, mortals chears,
And drives the rising mists away,
In promise of a glorious day.[Ritornelle.
The farther part of the heaven opens, and discovers a Machine; as it moves forward, the clouds which are before it divide, and shew the person of Apollo, holding the Reins in his Hand. As they fall lower, the Horses appear with the Rays, and a great glory about Apollo.
Apol. All hail, ye royal pair,
The Gods' peculiar care!
Fear not the malice of your foes;
Their dark designing,
And combining,
Time and truth shall once expose:
Fear not the malice of your foes.
II.
My sacred oracles assure,
The tempest shall not long endure;
But when the nation's crimes are purged away,
Then shall you both in glory shine;
Propitious both, and both divine;
In lustre equal to the god of day. [Apollo goes forward out of sight.
252 Neptune rises out of the Water, and a Train of Rivers, Tritons, and Sea-Nymphs attend him.
Tham. Old father Ocean calls my tide;
Come away, come away;
The barks upon the billows ride,
The master will not stay;
The merry boatswain from his side
His whistle takes, to check and chide
The lingering lads' delay,
And all the crew aloud have cried,
Come away, come away.
See, the god of seas attends thee,
Nymphs divine, a beauteous train;
All the calmer gales befriend thee,
In thy passage o'er the main;
Every maid her locks is binding,
Every Triton's horn is winding;
Welcome to the watry plain!
CHACON[3].
Two Nymphs and Tritons sing.
Ye Nymphs, the charge is royal,
Which you must convey;
Your hearts and hands employ all,
Hasten to obey;
253 When earth is grown disloyal,
Shew there's honour in the sea.
The Chacon continues.
The Chorus of Nymphs and Tritons repeat the same Verses.
The Chacon continues.
Two Nymphs and Tritons.
Sports and pleasures shall attend you
Through all the watry plains,
Where Neptune reigns;
Venus ready to defend you,
And her nymphs to ease your pains,
No storm shall offend you,
Passing the main;
Nor billow threat in vain
So sacred a train,
'Till the gods, that defend you,
Restore you again.
The Chacon continues.
The Chorus repeat the same Verses, Sports and Pleasures &c.
The Chacon continues.
The two Nymphs and Tritons sing.
See, at your blest returning,
Rage disappears;
The widowed isle in mourning
Dries up her tears;
With flowers the meads adorning,
Pleasure appears,
And love dispels the nation's causeless fears.
The Chorus of Nymphs and Tritons repeat the same Verses, See at your blest returning, &c.
The Chacon continues.
Then the Chorus repeat, See the god of Seas, &c. And this Chorus concludes the Act.
ACT III.
The Scene is a View of Dover, taken from the Sea. A row of Cliffs fill up each Side of the Stage, and the Sea the middle of it, which runs into the Pier; Beyond the Pier, is the town of Dover; On each side of the Town, is seen a very high hill; on one of which is the Castle of Dover; on the other, the great stone which they call the Devil's-Drop. Behind the Town several Hills are seen at a great distance, which finish the View.
Enter Albion bare-headed; Acacia or Innocence with him.
Alb. Behold, ye powers! from whom I own
A birth immortal, and a throne;
See a sacred king uncrowned,
See your offspring, Albion, bound;
The gifts, you gave with lavish hand,
Are all bestowed in vain;
Extended empire on the land,
Unbounded o'er the main.
Aca. Empire o'er the land and main,
Heaven, that gave, can take again;
But a mind, that's truly brave,
255 Stands despising
Storms arising,
And can ne'er be made a slave.
Alb. Unhelped I am, who pitied the distressed,
And, none oppressing, am by all oppressed;
Betrayed, forsaken, and of hope bereft.
Aca. Yet still the gods, and Innocence are left.
Alb. Ah! what canst thou avail,
Against rebellion armed with zeal,
And faced with public good?
O monarchs, see
Your fate in me!
To rule by love,
To shed no blood,
May be extolled above;
But here below,
Let princes know,
'Tis fatal to be good.
Chorus of both. To rule by love, &c.
Aca. Your father Neptune, from the seas,
Has Nereids and blue Tritons sent,
To charm your discontent.
Nereids rise out of the Sea, and sing; Tritons dance.
From the low palace of old father Ocean,
Come we in pity your cares to deplore;
Sea-racing dolphins are trained for our motion,
Moony tides swelling to roll us ashore.
II.
Every nymph of the flood, her tresses rending,
Throws off her armlet of pearl in the main;
Neptune in anguish his charge unattending,
Vessels are foundering, and vows are in vain.
256 Enter Tyranny, Democracy, represented by Men, attended by Asebia and Zelota, Women.
Tyr. Ha, ha! 'tis what so long I wished and vowed:
Our plots and delusions
Have wrought such confusions,
That the monarch's a slave to the crowd.
Dem. A design we fomented,—
Tyr. By hell it was new!
Dem. A false plot invented,—
Tyr. To cover a true.
Dem. First with promised faith we flattered.
Tyr. Then jealousies and fears we scattered.
Aseb. We never valued right and wrong,
But as they served our cause.
Zel. Our business was to please the throng,
And court their wild applause;
Aseb. For this we bribed the lawyer's tongue.
And then destroyed the laws.
Cho. For this, &c.
Tyr. To make him safe, we made his friends our prey;
Dem. To make him great, we scorned his royal sway,—
Tyr. And to confirm his crown, we took his heir away.
Dem. To encrease his store,
We kept him poor;
Tyr. And when to wants we had betrayed him,
To keep him low,
Pronounced a foe,
Whoe'er presumed to aid him.
Aseb. But you forget the noblest part,
And master piece of all your art,—
You told him he was sick at heart.
Zel. And when you could not work belief
In Albion of the imagined grief;
257 Your perjured vouchers, in a breath,
Made oath, that he was sick to death;
And then five hundred quacks of skill
Resolved, 'twas fit he should be ill.
Aseb. Now hey for a common-wealth,
We merrily drink and sing!
'Tis to the nation's health,
For every man's a king.
Zel. Then let the mask begin,
The Saints advance,
To fill the dance,
And the Property Boys come in.
The Boys in white begin a Fantastic Dance[4].
Cho. Let the saints ascend the throne.
Dem. Saints have wives, and wives have preachers,
Gifted men, and able teachers;
These to get, and those to own.
Cho. Let the saints ascend the throne.
Aseb. Freedom is a bait alluring;
Them betraying, us securing,
258 While to sovereign power we soar.
Zel. Old delusions, new repeated,
Shews them born but to be cheated,
As their fathers were before.
Six Sectaries begin a formal affected Dance; the two gravest whisper the other four, and draw them into the Plot; they pull out and deliver Libels to them, which they receive.
Dem. See friendless Albion there alone,
Without defence
But innocence;
Albanius now is gone.
Tyr. Say then, what must be done?
Dem. The gods have put him in our hand[5].
Zel. He must be slain.
Tyr. But who shall then command?
Dem. The people; for the right returns to those.
Who did the trust impose.
Tyr. 'Tis fit another sun should rise,
To cheer the world, and light the skies.
Dem. But when the sun
His race has run,
And neither cheers the world, nor lights the skies,
'Tis fit a common-wealth of stars should rise.
Aseb. Each noble vice
Shall bear a price,
And virtue shall a drug become;
An empty name
Was all her fame,
But now she shall be dumb.
Zel. If open vice be what you drive at,
A name so broad we'll ne'er connive at.
259 Saints love vice, but, more refinedly,
Keep her close, and use her kindly.
Tyr. Fall on.
Dem. Fall on; e'er Albion's death, we'll try,
If one or many shall his room supply.
The White Boys dance about the Saints; the Saints draw out the Association, and offer it to them; they refuse it, and quarrel about it; then the White Boys and Saints fall into a confused dance, imitating fighting. The White Boys, at the end of the dance, being driven out by the Sectaries, with Protestant Flails.[6]
Alb. See the gods my cause defending,
When all human help was past!
Acac. Factions mutually contending,
By each other fall at last.
Alb. But is not yonder Proteus' cave,
Below that steep,
Which rising billows brave?
Acac. It is; and in it lies the god asleep;
And snorting by,
We may descry
The monsters of the deep.
Alb. He knows the past,
And can resolve the future too.
Acac. 'Tis true!
260 But hold him fast,
For he can change his hue.[7]
The Cave of Proteus rises out of the Sea; it consists of several arches of Rock-work adorned with mother-of-pearl, coral, and abundance of shells of various kinds. Through the arches is seen the Sea, and parts of Dover-pier; in the middle of the Cave is Proteus asleep on a rock adorned with shells, &c. like the Cave. Albion and Acacia seize on him; and while a symphony is playing, he sinks as they are bringing him forward, and changes himself into a Lion, a Crocodile, a Dragon, and then to his own shape again; he comes forward to the front of the stage, and sings.
SYMPHONY.
Pro. Albion, loved of gods and men,
Prince of peace, too mildly reigning,
Cease thy sorrow and complaining;
Thou shall be restored again:
Albion, loved of gods and men.
II.
Still thou art the care of heaven,
In thy youth to exile driven;
Heaven thy ruin then prevented,
'Till the guilty land repented.
In thy age, when none could aid thee,
Foes conspired, and friends betrayed thee;
To the brink of danger driven,
Still thou art the care of heaven.
261 Alb. To whom shall I my preservation owe?
Pro. Ask me no more; for 'tis by Neptune's foe.[8]
Proteus descends.
Democracy and Zelota return with their faction.
Dem. Our seeming friends, who joined alone,
To pull down one, and build another throne,
Are all dispersed and gone;
We brave republic souls remain.
Zel. And 'tis by us that Albion must be slain;
Say, whom shall we employ
The tyrant to destroy?
Dem. That Archer is by fate designed,
With one eye clear, and t'other blind.
Zel. He comes inspired to do't.
Omnes. Shoot, holy Cyclop, shoot.
The one-eyed Archer advances, the rest follow. A fire arises betwixt them and Albion.[9]
[Ritornel.
Dem. Lo! heaven and earth combine
To blast our bold design.
What miracles are shewn!
262 Nature's alarmed,
And fires are armed,
To guard the sacred throne.
Zel. What help, when jarring elements conspire,
To punish our audacious crimes?
Retreat betimes,
To shun the avenging fire.
Chor. To shun the avenging fire.[Ritor.
263 As they are going back, a fire arises from behind; they all sink together.[10]
Alb. Let our tuneful accents upwards move,
Till they reach the vaulted arch of those above;
Let us adore them;
Let us fall before them.
264 Acac. Kings they made, and kings they love.
When they protect a rightful monarch's reign,
The gods in heaven, the gods on earth maintain.
Both. When they protect, &c.
Alb. But see, what glories gild the main!
Acac. Bright Venus brings Albanius back again,
With all the Loves and Graces in her train.
A machine rises out of the sea; it opens, and discovers Venus and Albanius sitting in a great scallop-shell, richly adorned. Venus is attended by the Loves and Graces, Albanius by Heroes; the shell is drawn by dolphins; it moves forward, while a symphony of flutes-doux, &c. is playing, till it lands them on the stage, and then it closes and sinks.
Venus sings.
Albion, hail! the gods present thee
All the richest of their treasures,
Peace and pleasures,
To content thee,
Dancing their eternal measures. [Graces and Loves dance an entry.
Venus. But, above all human blessing,
Take a warlike loyal brother,
Never prince had such another;
Conduct, courage, truth expressing,
All heroic worth possessing. [Here the Heroes' dance is performed.
Chor. of all. But above all, &c.[Ritor.
Whilst a Symphony is playing, a very large, and a very glorious Machine descends; the figure of it oval, all the clouds shining with gold, abundance of Angels and Cherubins flying about them, and playing in them; in the midst of it sits Apollo on a throne of gold; he comes from the machine to Albion.
265 Phœb. From Jove's imperial court,
Where all the gods resort,
In awful counsel met,
Surprising news I bear;
Albion the great
Must change his seat,
For he is adopted there.
Venus. What stars above shall we displace?
Where shall he fill a room divine?
Nept. Descended from the sea-gods' race,
Let him by my Orion shine.
Phœb. No, not by that tempestuous sign;
Betwixt the Balance and the Maid,
The just,
August,
And peaceful shade,
Shall shine in heaven with beams displayed,
While great Albanius is on earth obeyed.
Venus. Albanius, lord of land and main,
Shall with fraternal virtues reign;
And add his own,
To fill the throne;
Adored and feared, and loved no less;
In war victorious, mild in peace,
The joy of man, and Jove's increase.
Acac. O thou! who mountest the æthereal throne,
Be kind and happy to thy own;
Now Albion is come,
The people of the sky
Run gazing, and cry,—Make room,
Make room, make room,
Make room for our new deity!
Here Albion mounts the machine, which moves upward slowly.
A full chorus of all that Acacia sung.
266 Ven. Behold what triumphs are prepared to grace
Thy glorious race,
Where love and honour claim an equal place;
Already they are fixed by fate,
And only ripening ages wait.
The Scene changes to a Walk of very high trees; at the end of the Walk is a view of that part of Windsor, which faces Eton; in the midst of it is a row of small trees, which lead to the Castle-Hill. In the first scene, part of the Town and part of the Hill. In the next, the Terrace Walk, the King's lodgings, and the upper part of St George's chapel, then the keep; and, lastly, that part of the Castle beyond the keep.
In the air is a vision of the Honours of the Garter; the Knights in procession, and the King under a canopy; beyond this, the upper end of St George's hall.
Fame rises out of the middle of the Stage, standing on a Globe, on which is the Arms of England: the Globe rests on a Pedestal; on the front of the Pedestal in drawn a Man with a long, lean, pale face, with fiends' wings, and snakes twisted round his body; he is encompassed by several fanatical rebellious heads, who suck poison from him, which runs out of a tap in his side.[11]
267 Fame. Renown, assume thy trumpet!
From pole to pole resounding
Great Albion's name;
Great Albion's name shall be
The theme of Fame, shall be great Albion's name,
Great Albion's name, great Albion's name.
Record the garter's glory;
A badge for heroes, and for kings to bear;
For kings to bear!
And swell the immortal story,
With songs of Gods, and fit for Gods to hear;
And swell the immortal story,
With songs of Gods, and fit for Gods to hear;
For Gods to hear.
A full Chorus of all the Voices and Instruments; trumpets and hautboys make Ritornello's of all Fame sings; and twenty-four Dancers, all the time in a chorus, and dance to the end of the Opera.
Footnotes:
- The reader must recollect the orders of the Rump parliament to general Monk, to destroy the gates and portcullises of the city of London; which commission, by the bye, he actually executed, with all the forms of contempt, although, in a day or two after, he took up his quarters in the city, apologized for what had passed, and declared against the parliament.
- Dr. Titus Oates, the principal witness to the Popish Plot, was accused of unnatural and infamous crimes. He was certainly a most ineffably impudent, perjured villain.
- The Chacon is supposed by Sir John Hawkins to be of Moorish or Saracenic origin. "The characteristic of the Chacone is a bass, or ground, consisting of four measures, wherein three crotchets make the bar, and the repetition thereof with variations in the several parts, from the beginning to the end of the air, which in respect of its length, has no limit but the discretion of the composer. The whole of the twelfth sonata of the second opera of Corelli is a Chacone." Hist. of Music, vol. iv. p. 388. There is also, I am informed, a very celebrated Chacon composed by Jomelli.
- By the White Boys or Property Boys, are meant the adherents of the Duke of Monmouth, who affected great zeal for liberty and property, and assumed white badges, as marks of the innocence of their intentions. When the Duke came to the famous Parliament held at Oxford, "he was met by about 100 Batchellors all in white, except black velvet caps, with white wands in their hands, who divided themselves, and marched as a guard to his person." Account of the Life of the Duke of Monmouth, p. 107. In the Duke's tour through the west of England, he was met at Exeter, by "a brave company of brisk stout young men, all cloathed in linen waistcoats and drawers, white and harmless, having not so much as a stick in their hands; they were in number about 900 or 1000." ibid. p. 103. See the notes on Absalom and Achitophel. The saints, on the other hand, mean the ancient republican zealots and fanatics, who, though they would willingly have joined in the destruction of Charles, did not wish that Monmouth should succeed him, but aimed at the restoration of the commonwealth. Hence the following dispute betwixt Tyranny and Democracy.
- The atrocious and blasphemous sentiment in the text was actually used by the fanatics who murdered Sharpe, the archbishop of St Andrews. When they unexpectedly met him during their search for another person, they exclaimed, that "the Lord had delivered him into their hands."
- It is easy to believe, that, whatever was the, nature of the schemes nourished by Monmouth, Russel, and Essex, they could have no concern with the low and sanguinary cabal of Ramsay, Walcot, and Rumbold, who were all of them old republican officers and commonwealth's men. The flight of Shaftesbury, whose bustling and politic brain had rendered him the sole channel of communication betwixt these parties, as well as the means of uniting them in one common design, threw loose all connection between them; so that each, after his retreat, seems to have acted independantly of, and often in contradiction to the other.
- The reader may judge, whether some distant and obscure allusion to the trimming politics of Halifax, to whom the Duke of York, our author's patron, was hostile, may not be here insinuated. During the stormy session of his two last parliaments, Charles was much guided by his temporising and camelion-like policy.
- That is by fire. See next note.
- The allegory of the one-eyed Archer, and the fire arising betwixt him and Albion, will be made evident by the following extracts from Sprat's history of the Conspiracy. In enumerating the persons engaged in the Rye-house plot, he mentions "Richard Rumbold, maltster, an old army officer, a desperate and bloody Ravaillac." After agitating several schemes for assassinating Charles, the Rye-house was fixed upon as a spot which the king must necessarily pass in his journey trom Newmarket, and which, being a solitary moated house, in the actual occupation of Rumbold, afforded the conspirators facility of previous concealment and subsequent defence. "All other propositions, as subject to far more casualties and hazards, soon gave place to that of the Rye, in Herefordshire, a house then inhabited by the foresaid Richard Rumbold, who proposed that to be the seat of the action, offering himself to command the party, that was to do the work. Him, therefore, as the most daring captain, and by reason of a blemish in one of his eyes, they were afterwards wont, in common discourse, to call Hannibal; often drinking healths to Hannibal and his boys, meaning Rumbold and his hellish crew.
- "Immediately upon the coaches coming within the gates and hedges about the house, the conspirators were to divide into several parties; some before, in the habit of labourers, were to overthrow a cart in the narrowest passage, so as to prevent all possibility of escape: others were to fight the guards, Walcot chusing that part upon a punctilio of honour; others were to shoot at the coachman, postillion, and horses; others to aim only at his Majesty's coach, which party was to be under the particular direction of Rumbold himself; the villain declaring beforehand, that, upon that occasion, he would make use of a very good blunderbuss, which was in West's possession, and blasphemously adding, that Ferguson should first consecrate it." ... "But whilst they were thus wholly intent on this barbarous work, and proceeded securely in its contrivance without any the least doubt of a prosperous success, behold! on a sudden, God miraculously disappointed all their hopes and designs, by the terrible conflagration unexpectedly breaking out at Newmarket. In which extraordinary event there was one remarkable passage, that is not so generally taken notice of, as, for the glory of God, and the confusion of his Majesty's enemies, it ought to be.
- "For, after that the approaching fury of the flames had driven the king out of his own palace, his Majesty, at first, removed into another quarter of the town, remote from the fire, and, as yet, free from any annoyance of smoke and ashes. There his Majesty, finding he might be tolerably well accommodated, had resolved to stay, and continue his recreations as before, till the day first named for his journey back to London. But his Majesty had no sooner made that resolution, when the wind, as conducted by an invisible power from above, presently changed about, and blew the smoke and cinders directly on his new lodging, making them in a moment as untenable as the other. Upon this, his Majesty being put to a new shift, and not finding the like conveniency elsewhere, immediately declared, he would speedily return to Whitehall, as he did; which happening to be several days before the assassins expected him, or their preparations for the Rye were in readiness, it may justly give occasion to all the world to acknowledge, what one of the very conspirators could not but do, that it was a providential fire."—Pages 51 et seq.
- The proprietor of the Rye-house (for Rumbold was but a tenant) shocked at the intended purpose, for which it was to have been used, is said to have fired it with his own hand. This is the subject of a poem, called the Loyal Incendiary, or the generous Boute-feu.
- The total ruin of those, who were directly involved in the Rye-house, was little to be regretted, had it not involved the fate of those who were pursuing reform, by means more manly and constitutional,—the fate of Russel, Essex, and Sidney.
- Rumbold, "the one-eyed archer," fled to Holland, and came to Scotland with Argyle, on his ill-concerted expedition. He was singled out and pursued, after the dispersion of his companions in a skirmish. He defended himself with desperate resolution against two armed peasants, till a third, coming behind him with a pitch-fork, turned off his head-piece, when he was cut down and made prisoner, exclaiming, "Cruel countryman, to use me thus, while my face was to mine enemy." He suffered the doom of a traitor at Edinburgh, and maintained on the scaffold, with inflexible firmness, the principles in which he had lived. He could never believe, he said, that the many of human kind came into the world bridled and saddled, and the few with whips and spurs to ride them. "His rooted ingrained opinion, says Fountainhall, was for a republic against monarchy, to pull down which he thought a duty, and no sin." At his death, he declared, that were every hair of his head a man, he would venture them all in the good old cause.
- "I must not," says Langbaine, "take the pains to acquaint my reader, that by the man on the pedestal, &c. is meant the late Lord Shaftesbury. I shall not pretend to pass my censure, whether he deserved this usage from our author or no, but leave it to the judgments of statesmen and politicians." Shaftesbury having been overturned in a carriage, received some internal injury which required a constant discharge by an issue in his side. Hence he was ridiculed under the name of Tapski. In a mock account of an apparition, stated to have appeared to Lady Gray, it says, "Bid Lord Shaftesbury have a care to his spigot—if he is tapt, all the plot will run out." Ralph's History, vol. i. p. 562. from a pamphlet in Lord Somers' collection. There are various allusions to this circumstance in the lampoons of the time. A satire called "The Hypocrite," written by Carryl, concludes thus:
- His body thus and soul together vie.
- In vice's empire for the sovereignty;
- In ulcers shut this does abound in sin,
- Lazar without and Lucifer within.
- The silver pipe is no sufficient drain
- For the corruption of this little man;
- Who, though he ulcers have in every part,
- Is no where so corrupt as in his heart.
- At length, in prosecution of this coarse and unhandsome jest, a sort of vessel with a turn-cock was constructed for holding wine, which was called a Shaftesbury, and used in the taverns of the royal party.
"Immediately upon the coaches coming within the gates and hedges about the house, the conspirators were to divide into several parties; some before, in the habit of labourers, were to overthrow a cart in the narrowest passage, so as to prevent all possibility of escape: others were to fight the guards, Walcot chusing that part upon a punctilio of honour; others were to shoot at the coachman, postillion, and horses; others to aim only at his Majesty's coach, which party was to be under the particular direction of Rumbold himself; the villain declaring beforehand, that, upon that occasion, he would make use of a very good blunderbuss, which was in West's possession, and blasphemously adding, that Ferguson should first consecrate it." ... "But whilst they were thus wholly intent on this barbarous work, and proceeded securely in its contrivance without any the least doubt of a prosperous success, behold! on a sudden, God miraculously disappointed all their hopes and designs, by the terrible conflagration unexpectedly breaking out at Newmarket. In which extraordinary event there was one remarkable passage, that is not so generally taken notice of, as, for the glory of God, and the confusion of his Majesty's enemies, it ought to be.
"For, after that the approaching fury of the flames had driven the king out of his own palace, his Majesty, at first, removed into another quarter of the town, remote from the fire, and, as yet, free from any annoyance of smoke and ashes. There his Majesty, finding he might be tolerably well accommodated, had resolved to stay, and continue his recreations as before, till the day first named for his journey back to London. But his Majesty had no sooner made that resolution, when the wind, as conducted by an invisible power from above, presently changed about, and blew the smoke and cinders directly on his new lodging, making them in a moment as untenable as the other. Upon this, his Majesty being put to a new shift, and not finding the like conveniency elsewhere, immediately declared, he would speedily return to Whitehall, as he did; which happening to be several days before the assassins expected him, or their preparations for the Rye were in readiness, it may justly give occasion to all the world to acknowledge, what one of the very conspirators could not but do, that it was a providential fire."—Pages 51 et seq.