No More Learning

In the preface, Shadwell,
after railing abundantly at Settle, is at the pains to assure us,
there is no act in the piece which cost him above four days
writing, and the last two (the play-house having great occasion for
a play) were both written in four days. The Libertine, and his
companions, travel by sea and land over the whole kingdom of Spain.

16. See the full passage prefixed to the Vindication.

17. The club alluded to seems to be the same which originally met at
the King's-Head tavern, of which North gives the following lively
account. "The gentlemen of that worthy society held their evening
session continually at the King's-Head tavern, over against the
Inner Temple gate. But upon occasion of the signal of a green
ribbon, agreed to be worn in their hats in the days of secret
engagements, like the coats of arms of valiant knights of old,
whereby all the warriors of the society might be distinguished, and
not mistake friends for enemies, they were called also the Green
Ribbon Club. Their seat was in a sort of carrefour, at
Chancery-Lane end, a centre of business and company, most proper
for such anglers of fools. The house was double-balconied in front,
as may be yet seen, for the clubsters to issue forth, in fresco,
with hats and no peruques, pipes in their mouths, merry faces, and
diluted throats, for vocal encouragement of the canaglia below, at
bonfires, on usual and unusual occasions. They admitted all
strangers that were confidingly introduced; for, it was a main end
of their institution to make proselytes, especially of the raw
estated youths newly come to town. This copious society were, to
the faction in and about London, a sort of executive power, and by
correspondence all over England. The resolves of the more retired
councils and ministry of the faction, were brought in here, and
orally insinuated to the company, whether it were lies,
defamations, commendations, projects, &c. and so, like water
diffused, spread over all the town; whereby that which was digested
at the club over night, was, like nourishment, at every assembly,
male and female, the next day. And thus the younglings tasted of
political administration, and took themselves for notable
counsellors. " _Examen_, p. 572. The place of meeting is altered by
Dryden, from the King's-Head, to the Devil-Tavern, either because
he thought the name more appropriate, or wished slightly to
disguise what he plainly insinuated.

18. Our author never omits an opportunity of twitting Hunt with his
expected preferment of lord chief baron of exchequer in Ireland;
L'Estrange, whose ready pen was often drawn for the court, answered
Hunt's defence of the charter by a pamphlet entitled "The Lawyer
Outlawed," in which he fails not to twit his antagonist with the
same disappointment.

19. The foul practice of taking away lives by false witness, casts an
indelible disgrace on this period. Oates, Dugdale, and Turberville,
were the perjured evidences of the Popish plot. To meet them with
equal arms, counter-plots were sworn against Shaftesbury and
others, by Haines, Macnamara, and other Irishmen. But the true
Protestant juries would only swallow the perjuries which made for
their own opinions; nay, although they believed Dugdale, when he
zealously forswore himself for the cause of the Protestant faith,
they refused him credit when he bore false witness for the crown.
"Thus," says Hume, "the two parties, actuated by mutual rage, but
cooped up within the narrow limits of the law, levelled with
poisoned daggers the most deadly blows against each other's breast,
and buried in their factious divisions all regard to truth, honour,
and humanity. "--

20. In the Dramatis Personæ to Shadwell's play of Epsom-Wells, we have
Rains, Bevil, Woodly, described as "men of wit and pleasure. "

21. Dryden had already distinguished Shadwell and Settle by those
names, which were destined to consign the poor wights to a painful
immortality, in the second part of Absalom and Achitophel,
published in 1682.

22. See note on p. 222. Vol. VI. describing this famous procession.

23. This passage, in Hunt's defence of the charter, obviously alludes
to the Duke of York, whom he elsewhere treats with little ceremony,
and to the king, whose affection for his brother was not without a
mixture of fear, inspired by his more stubborn and resolved temper.

24. William Viscount Stafford, the last who suffered for the Popish
plot, was tried and executed in 1680. It appears, that his life was
foully sworn away by Dugdale and Turberville. The manly and patient
deportment of the noble sufferer went far to remove the woful
delusion which then pervaded the people. It would seem that Hunt
had acted as his solicitor.

25. A quip at his corpulent adversary Shadwell.

26. The infamous Titus Oates pretended, amongst other more abominable
falsehoods, to have taken a doctor's degree at Salamanca. In 1679,
there was an attempt to bring him to trial for unnatural practices,
but the grand jury threw out the bill. These were frequent subjects
of reproach among the tory authors. In the Luttrel Collection,
there is "An Address from Salamanca to her unknown offspring Dr
T. O. concerning the present state of affairs in England. " Also a
coarse ballad, entitled, "The Venison Doctor, with his brace of
Alderman Stags;"

Showing how a Doctor had defiled
Two aldermen, and got them both with child,
Who longed for venison, but were beguiled.

27. Our author has elsewhere expressed, in the same terms, his
contempt for the satire of "The Rehearsal. " "I answered not the
Rehearsal, because I knew the author sat to himself when he drew
the picture, and was the very Bayes of his own farce. " _Dedication
to Juvenal. _--The same idea occurs in a copy of verses on the Duke
of Buckingham sometimes ascribed to Dryden:

But when his poet, John Bayes, did appear,
'Twas known to more than one-half that were there,
That the great'st part was his Grace's character;

For he many years plagued his friends for their crimes,
Repeating his verses in other men's rhymes,
To the very same person ten thousand times.
_State Poems_, Vol. II, p. 216.

28. Besides those who were alarmed for civil liberty, and those who
dreaded encroachment on their religion, the whig party, like every
one which promises to effect a great political change, was embraced
by many equally careless of the one motive or the other; but who
hoped to indulge their licentious passions, repair their broken
fortunes, or gratify their inordinate ambition amidst a
revolutionary convulsion.

29. The motto to Hunt's pamphlet.

30. _Tantivi_ was a cant phrase for furious tories and high-flyers. In
one of College's unlucky strokes of humour, he had invented a print
called _Mac Ninny_, in which the Duke of York was represented
half-jesuit half-devil; and a parcel of tories, mounted on the
church of England, were driving it at full gallop, _tantivy_, to
Rome. Hickeringill's poem, called "The Mushroom," written against
our author's "Hind and Panther," is prefaced by an epistle to the
tories and tantivies.

31. This passage is inaccurately quoted. Mr Hunt wrote, "Such monsters
as Theseus and Hercules _are_, renowned throughout all ages for
destroying. " The learned gentleman obviously meant that Dryden's
heroes (whom he accounted tyrants) resembled not the demi-gods, but
the monsters whom they destroyed. But the comma is so unhappily
placed after _are_, as to leave the sense capable of the malicious
interpretation which Dryden has put upon it.

32. Shadwell, as he resembled Ben Jonson in extreme corpulence, and
proposed him for the model of dramatic writing, seems to have
affected the coarse and inelegant debauchery of his prototype. He
lived chiefly in taverns, was a gross sensualist in his habits, and
brutal in his conversation. His fine gentlemen all partake of their
parent's grossness and vulgarity; they usually open their dialogue,
by complaining of the effects of last night's debauch. He is
probably the only author, who ever chose for his heroes a set of
riotous bloods, or _scowerers_, as they were then termed, and
expected the public should sympathise in their brutal orgies. True
it is, that the heroes are _whig_ scowerers; and, whilst breaking
windows, stabbing watchmen, and beating passengers, do not fail to
express a due zeal for the Protestant religion, and the liberty of
the subject. Much of the interest also turns, it must be allowed,
upon the Protestant scowerers aforesaid baffling and beating,
without the least provocation, a set of inferior scowerers, who
were Jacobites at least, if not Papists. Shadwell is thus described
in the "Sessions of the Poets:"

Next into the crowd Tom Shadwell does wallow,
And swears by his guts, his paunch, and his tallow,
'Tis he that alone best pleases the age,
Himself and his wife have supported the stage.
Apollo, well pleased with so bonny a lad,
To oblige him, he told him he should be huge glad,
Had he half so much wit as he fancied he had.
However, to please so jovial a wit,
And to keep him in humour, Apollo thought fit
To bid him drink on, and keep his old trick
Of railing at poets--

Those, who consult the full passage, will see good reason to think
Dryden's censure on Shadwell's brutality by no means too severe.

33. In 1444, Ladislaus king of Hungary, in breach of a treaty solemnly
sworn upon the gospel, invaded Bulgaria, at the instigation of the
Cardinal Legate. He was slain, and his army totally routed in the
bloody battle of Warna, where ten thousand Christians fell before
the janissaries of Amurath II. It is said, that while the battle
remained undecided, the sultan displayed the solemn treaty, and
invoked the God of truth, and the blessed name of Jesus, to revenge
the impious infidelity of the Hungarian. This battle would have
laid Hungary under the Turkish yoke, had it not been for the
exploits of John Corvinus Huniades, the white knight of Walachia,
and the more dubious prowess of the famous John Castriot, king of
Epirus.

34. In the preface to which the author alleges, that Hunt contributed
no small share towards the composition of "Julian the Apostate. "
See WOOD'S _Ath. Oxon. _ v. ii. p. 729.

35. The song against the bishops is probably a ballad, upon their
share in throwing out the bill of exclusion, beginning thus:

The grave house of Commons, by hook, or by crook,
Resolved to root out both the pope and the duke;
Let them vote, let them move, let them do what they will;
The bishops, the bishops, have thrown out the bill.

It concludes with the following stanza:

The best of expedients, the law can propose,
Our church to preserve, and to quiet our foes,
Is not to let lawn sleeves our parliament fill,
But throw out the bishops, that threw out the bill.
_State Poems_, Vol. III. p. 154.

The Tunbridge ballad, which our author also ascribes to Shadwell or
his assistant, I have not found among the numerous libels of the
time.

36. The "Massacre of Paris" appears to have been written by Lee,
during the time of the Popish plot, and if then brought out, the
subject might have been extravagantly popular. It would appear it
was suppressed at the request of the French ambassador. Several
speeches, and even a whole scene seem to have been transplanted to
the "Duke of Guise," which were afterwards replaced, when the
Revolution rendered the "Massacre of Paris," again a popular topic.
There were, among others, the description of the meeting of Alva
and the queen mother at Bayonne; the sentiments expressed
concerning the assassination of Cæsar, and especially the whole
quarrelling scene between Guise and Grillon, which, in the
"Massacre of Paris," passes between Guise and the admiral
Chastillon. In the preface to the "Princess of Cleves," which was
acted in 1689, Lee gives the following account of the transposition
of these passages. "The Duke of Guise, who was notorious for a
bolder fault, has wrested two whole scenes from the original, (the
Massacre just before mentioned,) which, after the vacation, he will
be forced to pay. I was, I confess, through indignation, forced to
limb my own child, which time, the true cure for all maladies and
injustice, has set together again. The play cost me much pains, the
story is true, and, I hope, the object will display treachery in
its own colours. But this farce, comedy, tragedy, or mere play, was
a revenge for the refusal of the other. " This last sentence alludes
to the suppression of the "Massacre of Paris," which, according to
the author's promise, appeared with all its appurtenances restored
in 1690, the year following. ]

37. When the days of Whiggish prosperity shone forth, Shadwell did his
best to retort upon our poet. In the prologue to "Bury Fair," we
find the following lines of exultation, on his having regained
possession of the stage:

Those wretched poetitos, who got praise,
By writing most _confounded loyal plays_,
With viler coarser jests, than at Bear-garden,
And silly Grub-street songs, worse than Tom Farthing;
If any noble patriot did excel,
His own and country's rights defending well,
These yelping curs were straight 'looed on to bark,
On the deserving man to set a mark;
Those abject fawning parasites and knaves.
Since they were such, would have all others slaves.
'Twas precious _loyalty_, that was thought fit
To atone for want of honesty and wit;
No wonder common sense was all cried down,
And noise and nonsense swaggered through the town;
Our author then opprest would have you know it.
Was silenced for a non-conformist poet;
Now, sirs, since common sence has won the day,
Be kind to this as to his last year's play;
His friends stood firmly to him, when distressed,
He hopes the number is not now decreast.
He found esteem from those he valued most;
Proud of his friends, he of his foes could boast.

38. "Know then, to prevent the farther shedding of Christian blood, we
are all content Ventoso shall be viceroy, upon condition I may be
viceroy over him. " Tempest, as altered by Dryden, vol. iii. p. 124.

39. The fable alluded to occurs in the _Pia Hilaria_ of Gazæus, and in
Le Grand's _Fabliaux_; it makes the subject of a humorous tale by
Mr Robert Southey.

40. Alluding to the well-known catastrophe of poor Settle acting in
Bartholomew fair:

"Reduced at last to hiss in his own dragon. "

41. The _say_, or _assay_, is the first cut made on the stag when he
is killed. The hunter begins at the brisket, and draws the knife
downwards. The purpose is, to ascertain how fat he is:

"At the assay kitle him, that Lends may se
Anon Fat or lene whether that he be. "
_Boke of St Alban's. _

The allusion in the text is to the cruel punishment of high treason
by quartering.

42. "And so thou shalt for me," said James, when he came to the
passage; "thou art a biting knave, but a witty one. "


* * * * *


ALBION AND ALBANIUS:


AN

OPERA


_Discite justitiam, moniti, et non temnere divos. _
VIRG.




ALBION AND ALBANIUS.


This opera, like the play which precedes it, had an avowed political
object. It was intended to celebrate the victory of the crown over its
opponents, or, as our author would have expressed it, of loyalty over
sedition and insurrection. The events, which followed the Restoration,
are rapidly, but obviously and distinctly, traced down to the death of
Charles, and the quiet accession of his brother, who, after all the
storms which had threatened to blast his prospects, found himself
enabled to mount the throne, with ease sufficient to encourage him to
the measures which precipitated him from that elevation. The leading
incidents of the busy and intriguing reign of Charles II. are
successively introduced in the following order. The city of London is
discovered occupied by the republicans and fanatics, depicted under
the allegorical personages Democracy and Zeal. General Monk, as
Archon, charms the factions to sleep, and the Restoration is
emblematized by the arrival of Charles, and the Duke of York, under
the names of Albion and Albanius. The second act opens with a council
of the fiends, where the popish plot is hatched, and Democracy and
Zeal are dismissed, to propagate it upon earth, with Oates, the famous
witness, in their train. The next entry presents Augusta, or London,
stung by a snake, to intimate the revival of the popular faction in
the metropolis. Democracy and Zeal, under the disguise of Patriotism
and Religion, insinuate themselves into the confidence of the city,
and are supposed to foment the parliamentary opposition, which, ending
on the bill of exclusion, rendered it necessary, that the Duke of York
should leave the kingdom. We have then, in allegorical representation,
the internal feuds of the parties, which, from different causes,
opposed the crown. The adherents of Monmouth, and the favourers of
republican tenets, are represented as disputing with each other, until
the latter, by the flight of Shaftesbury, obtains a final ascendancy.
In the mean while, Charles, or Albion, has recourse to the advice of
Proteus; under which emblem an evil minded whig might suppose Halifax,
and the party of Trimmers, to be represented; actuated by whose
versatile, and time-serving politics, Charles gave way to each wave,
but remained buoyant amid the tempest. The Rye-house plot is then
presented in allegory,--an unfit subject for exultation, since the
dark intrigues of the interior conspirators were made the instruments
of the fall of Sidney and Russell. The return of the Duke of York,
with his beautiful princess, and the rejoicings which were supposed to
take place, in heaven and earth, upon Charles' attaining the pinnacle
of uncontrolled power, was originally the intended termination of the
opera; which, as first written, consisted of only one act,
introductory to the drama of "King Arthur. " But the eye and the ear of
Charles were never to be regaled by this flattering representation: he
died while the opera was in rehearsal. A slight addition, as the
author has himself informed us, adapted the conclusion of his piece to
this new and unexpected event. The apotheosis of Albion, and the
succession of Albanius to the uncontrouled domination of a willing
people, debased by circumstances expressing an unworthy triumph over
deceased foes, was substituted as the closing scene. Altered as it
was, to suit the full-blown fortune of James, an ominous fatality
attended these sugared scenes, which were to present the exulting
recapitulation of his difficulties and triumph. While the opera was
performing, for the sixth time only, news arrived that Monmouth had
landed in the west, the audience dispersed, and the players never
attempted to revive a play, which seemed to be of evil augury to the
crown.

Our author appears to have found it difficult to assign a name for
this performance, which was at once to address itself to the eye, the
ear, and the understanding. The ballad-opera, since invented, in which
part is sung, part acted and spoken, comes nearest to its description.
The plot of the piece contains nothing brilliantly ingenious: the
deities of Greece and Rome had been long hacknied machines in the
masks and operas of the sixteenth century; and it required little
invention to paint the duchess of York as Venus, or to represent her
husband protected by Neptune, and Charles consulting with Proteus. But
though the device be trite, the lyrical diction of the opera is most
beautifully sweet and flowing. The reader finds none of these harsh
inversions, and awkward constructions, by which ordinary poets are
obliged to screw their verses into the fetters of musical time.
Notwithstanding the obstacles stated by Dryden himself, every line
seems to flow in its natural and most simple order; and where the
music required repetition of a line, or a word, the iteration seems to
improve the sense and poetical effect. Neither is the piece deficient
in the higher requisites of lyric poetry. When music is to be "married
to immortal verse," the poet too commonly cares little with how
indifferent a yoke-mate he provides her. But Dryden, probably less
from a superior degree of care, than from that divine impulse which he
could not resist, has hurried along in the full stream of real poetry.
The description of the desolation of London, at the opening of the
piece, the speech of Augusta, in act second, and many other passages,
fully justify this encomium.

The music of the piece was entrusted to Louis Grabut, or Grabu, the
master of the king's band, whom Charles, French in his politics, his
manners, and his taste, preferred to the celebrated Purcell. "Purcell,
however," says an admirable judge, "having infinitely more fancy, and,
indeed, harmonical resources, than the Frenchified Tuscan, his
predecessor, now offered far greater pleasure and amusement to a
liberal lover of music, than can be found, not only in the productions
of Cambert and Grabu, whom Charles II. , and, to flatter his majesty,
Dryden, patronised in preference to Purcell, but in all the noisy
monotony of the rhapsodist of Quinault. "--_Burney's History of Music_,
Vol. III. p. 500.

It seems to be generally admitted, that the music of "Albion and
Albanius" was very indifferent. From the preface, as well as the stage
directions, it appears that a vast expence was incurred, in shew,
dress, and machinery. Downes informs us, that, owing to the
interruption of the run of the piece in the manner already mentioned,
the half of the expence was never recovered, and the theatre was
involved considerably in debt. --_Rosc. Anglic. _ p. 40. The whigs,
against whom the satire was levelled, the rival dramatists of the day,
and the favourers of the English school of music, united in triumphing
in its downfall[1].

Mr Luttrell's manuscript note has fixed the first representation of
"Albion and Albanius" to the 3d of June, 1685; and the laudable
accuracy of Mr Malone has traced its sixth night to Saturday the 13th
of the same month, when an express brought the news of Monmouth's
landing. The opera was shortly after published. In 1687 Grabut
published the music, with a dedication to James II. [2]


Footnotes:
1. The following verses are rather better worthy of preservation than
most which have been written against Dryden.

From Father Hopkins, whose vein did inspire him,
Bayes sends this raree-show to public view;
Prentices, fops, and their footmen admire him,
Thanks patron, painter, and Monsieur Grabu.

Each actor on the stage his luck bewailing,
Finds that his loss is infallibly true;
Smith, Nokes, and Leigh, in a fever with railing,
Curse poet, painter, and Monsieur Grabu.

Betterton, Betterton, thy decorations,
And the machines, were well written, we knew;
But, all the words were such stuff, we want patience,
And little better is Monsieur Grabu.

Damme, says Underhill, I'm out of two hundred,
Hoping that rainbows and peacocks would do;
Who thought infallible Tom[a] could have blundered?
A plague upon him and Monsieur Grabu!

Lane, thou hast no applause for thy capers,
Though all, without thee, would make a man spew;
And a month hence will not pay for the tapers,
Spite of Jack Laureat, and Monsieur Grabu.
Bayes, thou wouldst have thy skill thought universal,
Though thy dull ear be to music untrue;
Then, whilst we strive to confute the Rehearsal,
Prithee leave thrashing of Monsieur Grabu.

With thy dull prefaces still thou wouldst treat us,
Striving to make thy dull bauble look fair;
So the horned herd of the city do cheat us,
Still most commending the worst of their ware.

Leave making operas and writing of lyricks,
Till thou hast ears, and can alter thy strain;
Stick to thy talent of bold panegyricks,
And still remember--_breathing the vein_[b].

Yet, if thou thinkest the town will extoll them,
Print thy dull notes; but be thrifty and wise:
Instead of angels subscribed for the volume,
Take a round shilling, and thank my advice.

In imitating thee, this may be charming,
Gleaning from laureats is no shame at all;
And let this song be sung next performing,
Else, ten to one that the prices will fall.

Footnotes:
a. Thomas Betterton.

b. An expression in Dryden's poem on the death of Cromwell, which
his libeller insisted on applying to the death of Charles I.

2. Langbaine has preserved another jest upon our author's preference
of Grabut to the English musicians.

Grabut, his yokemate, ne'er shall be forgot.
Whom th' god of tunes upon a muse begot;
Bayes on a double score to him belongs,
As well for writing, as for setting songs;
For some have sworn the intrigue so odd is laid,
That Bayes and he mistook each other's trade,
Grabut the lines, and he the music made.




THE

PREFACE.


If wit has truly been defined, "a propriety of thoughts and words,[1]"
then that definition will extend to all sorts of poetry; and, among
the rest, to this present entertainment of an opera. Propriety of
thought is that fancy which arises naturally from the subject, or
which the poet adapts to it; propriety of words is the clothing of
those thoughts with such expressions as are naturally proper to them;
and from both these, if they are judiciously performed, the delight of
poetry results. An opera is a poetical tale, or fiction, represented
by vocal and instrumental music, adorned with scenes, machines, and
dancing. The supposed persons of this musical drama are generally
supernatural, as gods, and goddesses, and heroes, which at least are
descended from them, and are in due time to be adopted into their
number. The subject, therefore, being extended beyond the limits of
human nature, admits of that sort of marvellous and surprising
conduct, which is rejected in other plays. Human impossibilities are
to be received as they are in faith; because, where gods are
introduced, a supreme power is to be understood, and second causes are
out of doors; yet propriety is to be observed even here. The gods are
all to manage their peculiar provinces; and what was attributed by the
heathens to one power, ought not to be performed by any other. Phoebus
must foretel, Mercury must charm with his caduceus, and Juno must
reconcile the quarrels of the marriage-bed; to conclude, they must all
act according to their distinct and peculiar characters. If the
persons represented were to speak upon the stage, it would follow, of
necessity, that the expressions should be lofty, figurative, and
majestical: but the nature of an opera denies the frequent use of
these poetical ornaments; for vocal music, though it often admits a
loftiness of sound, yet always exacts an harmonious sweetness; or, to
distinguish yet more justly, the recitative part of the opera requires
a more masculine beauty of expression and sound. The other, which, for
want of a proper English word, I must call the _songish part_, must
abound in the softness and variety of numbers; its principal intention
being to please the hearing, rather than to gratify the understanding.
It appears, indeed, preposterous at first sight, that rhyme, on any
consideration, should take place of reason; but, in order to resolve
the problem, this fundamental proposition must be settled, that the
first inventors of any art or science, provided they have brought it
to perfection, are, in reason, to give laws to it; and, according to
their model, all after-undertakers are to build. Thus, in epic poetry,
no man ought to dispute the authority of Homer, who gave the first
being to that masterpiece of art, and endued it with that form of
perfection in all its parts, that nothing was wanting to its
excellency. Virgil therefore, and those very few who have succeeded
him, endeavoured not to introduce, or innovate, any thing in a design
already perfected, but imitated the plan of the inventor; and are only
so far true heroic poets, as they have built on the foundations of
Homer. Thus, Pindar, the author of those Odes, which are so admirably
restored by Mr Cowley in our language, ought for ever to be the
standard of them; and we are bound, according to the practice of
Horace and Mr Cowley, to copy him. Now, to apply this axiom to our
present purpose, whosoever undertakes the writing of an opera, which
is a modern invention, though built indeed on the foundation of ethnic
worship, is obliged to imitate the design of the Italians, who have
not only invented, but brought to perfection, this sort of dramatic
musical entertainment. I have not been able, by any search, to get any
light, either of the time when it began, or of the first author; but I
have probable reasons, which induce me to believe, that some Italians,
having curiously observed the gallantries of the Spanish Moors at
their zambras, or royal feasts, where music, songs, and dancing, were
in perfection, together with their machines, which are usual at their
_sortija_, or running at the ring, and other solemnities, may possibly
have refined upon those moresque divertisements, and produced this
delightful entertainment, by leaving out the warlike part of the
carousals, and forming a poetical design for the use of the machines,
the songs, and dances. But however it began, (for this is only
conjectural,) we know, that, for some centuries, the knowledge of
music has flourished principally in Italy, the mother of learning and
of arts[2]; that poetry and painting have been there restored, and so
cultivated by Italian masters, that all Europe has been enriched out
of their treasury; and the other parts of it, in relation to those
delightful arts, are still as much provincial to Italy, as they were
in the time of the Roman empire. Their first operas seem to have been
intended for the celebration of the marriages of their princes, or for
the magnificence of some general time of joy; accordingly, the
expences of them were from the purse of the sovereign, or of the
republic, as they are still practised at Venice, Rome, and at other
places, at their carnivals. Savoy and Florence have often used them in
their courts, at the weddings of their dukes; and at Turin
particularly, was performed the "Pastor Fido," written by the famous
Guarini, which is a pastoral opera made to solemnise the marriage of a
Duke of Savoy. The prologue of it has given the design to all the
French; which is a compliment to the sovereign power by some god or
goddess; so that it looks no less than a kind of embassy from heaven
to earth. I said in the beginning of this preface, that the persons
represented in operas are generally gods, goddesses, and heroes
descended from them, who are supposed to be their peculiar care; which
hinders not, but that meaner persons may sometimes gracefully be
introduced, especially if they have relation to those first times,
which poets call the Golden Age; wherein, by reason of their
innocence, those happy mortals were supposed to have had a more
familiar intercourse with superior beings; and therefore shepherds
might reasonably be admitted, as of all callings the most innocent,
the most happy, and who, by reason of the spare time they had, in
their almost idle employment, had most leisure to make verses, and to
be in love; without somewhat of which passion, no opera can possibly
subsist.

It is almost needless to speak any thing of that noble language, in
which this musical drama was first invented and performed. All, who
are conversant in the Italian, cannot but observe, that it is the
softest, the sweetest, the most harmonious, not only of any modern
tongue, but even beyond any of the learned. It seems indeed to have
been invented for the sake of poetry and music; the vowels are so
abounding in all words, especially in terminations of them, that,
excepting some few monosyllables, the whole language ends in them.
Then the pronunciation is so manly, and so sonorous, that their very
speaking has more of music in it than Dutch poetry and song. It has
withal derived, so much copiousness and eloquence from the Greek and
Latin, in the composition of words, and the formation of them, that
if, after all, we must call it barbarous, it is the most beautiful and
most learned of any barbarism in modern tongues; and we may, at least,
as justly praise it, as Pyrrhus did the Roman discipline and martial
order, that it was of barbarians, (for so the Greeks called all other
nations,) but had nothing in it of barbarity. This language has in a
manner been refined and purified from the Gothic ever since the time
of Dante, which is above four hundred years ago; and the French, who
now cast a longing eye to their country, are not less ambitious to
possess their elegance in poetry and music; in both which they labour
at impossibilities. It is true, indeed, they have reformed their
tongue, and brought both their prose and poetry to a standard; the
sweetness, as well as the purity, is much improved, by throwing off
the unnecessary consonants, which made their spelling tedious and
their pronunciation harsh: but, after all, as nothing can be improved
beyond its own _species_, or farther than its original nature will
allow; as an ill voice, though ever so thoroughly instructed in the
rules of music, can never be brought to sing harmoniously, nor many an
honest critic ever arrive to be a good poet; so neither can the
natural harshness of the French, or their perpetual ill accent, be
ever refined into perfect harmony like the Italian. The English has
yet more natural disadvantages than the French; our original Teutonic,
consisting most in monosyllables, and those incumbered with
consonants, cannot possibly be freed from those inconveniencies. The
rest of our words, which are derived from the Latin chiefly, and the
French, with some small sprinklings of Greek, Italian, and Spanish,
are some relief in poetry, and help us to soften our uncouth numbers;
which, together with our English genius, incomparably beyond the
trifling of the French, in all the nobler parts of verse, will justly
give us the pre-eminence. But, on the other hand, the effeminacy of
our pronunciation, (a defect common to us and to the Danes,) and our
scarcity of female rhymes, have left the advantage of musical
composition for songs, though not for recitative, to our neighbours.

Through these difficulties I have made a shift to struggle in my part
of the performance of this opera; which, as mean as it is, deserves at
least a pardon, because it has attempted a discovery beyond any former
undertaker of our nation; only remember, that if there be no
north-east passage to be found, the fault is in nature, and not in me;
or, as Ben Jonson tells us in "The Alchymist," when projection had
failed, and the glasses were all broken, there was enough, however, in
the bottoms of them, to cure the itch; so I may thus be positive, that
if I have not succeeded as I desire, yet there is somewhat still
remaining to satisfy the curiosity, or itch of sight and hearing. Yet
I have no great reason to despair; for I may, without vanity, own some
advantages, which are not common to every writer; such as are the
knowledge of the Italian and French language, and the being conversant
with some of their best performances in this kind; which have
furnished me with such variety of measures as have given the composer,
Monsieur Grabut, what occasions he could wish, to shew his
extraordinary talent in diversifying the recitative, the lyrical part,
and the chorus; in all which, not to attribute any thing to my own
opinion, the best judges and those too of the best quality, who have
honoured his rehearsals with their presence, have no less commended
the happiness of his genius than his skill. And let me have the
liberty to add one thing, that he has so exactly expressed my sense in
all places where I intended to move the passions, that he seems to
have entered into my thoughts, and to have been the poet as well as
the composer. This I say, not to flatter him, but to do him right;
because amongst some English musicians, and their scholars, who are
sure to judge after them, the imputation of being a Frenchman is
enough to make a party, who maliciously endeavour to decry him. But
the knowledge of Latin and Italian poets, both which he possesses,
besides his skill in music, and his being acquainted with all the
performances of the French operas, adding to these the good sense to
which he is born, have raised him to a degree above any man, who shall
pretend to be his rival on our stage. When any of our countrymen excel
him, I shall be glad, for the sake of old England, to be shewn my
error; in the mean time, let virtue be commended, though in the person
of a stranger[3].

If I thought it convenient, I could here discover some rules which I
have given to myself in writing of an opera in general, and of this
opera in particular; but I consider, that the effect would only be, to
have my own performance measured by the laws I gave; and,
consequently, to set up some little judges, who, not understanding
thoroughly, would be sure to fall upon the faults, and not to
acknowledge any of the beauties; an hard measure, which I have often
found from false critics. Here, therefore, if they will criticise,
they shall do it out of their own _fond_; but let them first be
assured that their ears are nice; for there is neither writing nor
judgment on this subject without that good quality. It is no easy
matter, in our language, to make words so smooth, and numbers so
harmonious, that they shall almost set themselves. And yet there are
rules for this in nature, and as great a certainty of quantity in our
syllables, as either in the Greek or Latin: but let poets and judges
understand those first, and then let them begin to study English. When
they have chewed a while upon these preliminaries, it may be they will
scarce adventure to tax me with want of thought and elevation of fancy
in this work; for they will soon be satisfied, that those are not of
the nature of this sort of writing. The necessity of double rhimes,
and ordering of the words and numbers for the sweetness of the voice,
are the main hinges on which an opera must move; and both of these are
without the compass of any art to teach another to perform, unless
nature, in the first place, has done her part, by enduing the poet
with that nicety of hearing, that the discord of sounds in words shall
as much offend him, as a seventh in music would a good composer. I
have therefore no need to make excuses for meanness of thought in many
places: the Italians, with all the advantages of their language, are
continually forced upon it, or, rather, affect it. The chief secret is
the choice of words; and, by this choice, I do not here mean elegancy
of expression, but propriety of sound, to be varied according to the
nature of the subject. Perhaps a time may come when I may treat of
this more largely, out of some observations which I have made from
Homer and Virgil, who, amongst all the poets, only understood the art
of numbers, and of that which was properly called _rhythmus_ by the
ancients.

The same reasons, which depress thought in an opera, have a stronger
effect upon the words, especially in our language; for there is no
maintaining the purity of English in short measures, where the rhime
returns so quick, and is so often female, or double rhime, which is
not natural to our tongue, because it consists too much of
monosyllables, and those, too, most commonly clogged with consonants;
for which reason I am often forced to coin new words, revive some that
are antiquated, and botch others; as if I had not served out my time
in poetry, but was bound apprentice to some doggrel rhimer, who makes
songs to tunes, and sings them for a livelihood. It is true, I have
not been often put to this drudgery; but where I have, the words will
sufficiently shew, that I was then a slave to the composition, which I
will never be again: it is my part to invent, and the musician's to
humour that invention. I may be counselled, and will always follow my
friend's advice where I find it reasonable, but will never part with
the power of the militia[4].

I am now to acquaint my reader with somewhat more particular
concerning this opera, after having begged his pardon for so long a
preface to so short a work. It was originally intended only for a
prologue to a play of the nature of "The Tempest;" which is a tragedy
mixed with opera, or a drama, written in blank verse, adorned with
scenes, machines, songs, and dances, so that the fable of it is all
spoken and acted by the best of the comedians; the other part of the
entertainment to be performed by the same singers and dancers who were
introduced in this present opera. It cannot properly be called a play,
because the action of it is supposed to be conducted sometimes by
supernatural means, or magic; nor an opera, because the story of it is
not sung. --But more of this at its proper time. --But some intervening
accidents having hitherto deferred the performance of the main design,
I proposed to the actors, to turn the intended Prologue into an
entertainment by itself, as you now see it, by adding two acts more to
what I had already written. The subject of it is wholly allegorical;
and the allegory itself so very obvious, that it will no sooner be
read than understood. It is divided, according to the plain and
natural method of every action, into three parts. For even Aristotle
himself is contented to say simply, that in all actions there is a
beginning, a middle, and an end; after which model all the Spanish
plays are built.

The descriptions of the scenes, and other decorations of the stage, I
had from Mr Betterton, who has spared neither for industry, nor cost,
to make this entertainment perfect, nor for invention of the ornaments
to beautify it.

To conclude, though the enemies of the composer are not few, and that
there is a party formed against him of his own profession, I hope, and
am persuaded, that this prejudice will turn in the end to his
advantage. For the greatest part of an audience is always
uninterested, though seldom knowing; and if the music be well
composed, and well performed, they, who find themselves pleased, will
be so wise as not to be imposed upon, and fooled out of their
satisfaction. The newness of the undertaking is all the hazard. When
operas were first set up in France, they were not followed over
eagerly; but they gained daily upon their hearers, till they grew to
that height of reputation, which they now enjoy. The English, I
confess, are not altogether so musical as the French; and yet they
have been pleased already with "The Tempest," and some pieces that
followed, which were neither much better written, nor so well composed
as this. If it finds encouragement, I dare promise myself to mend my
hand, by making a more pleasing fable. In the mean time, every loyal
Englishman cannot but be satisfied with the moral of this, which so
plainly represents the double restoration of His Sacred Majesty.


POSTSCRIPT.

This preface being wholly written before the death of my late royal
master, (_quem semper acerbum, semper honoratum, sic dii voluistis,
habebo_) I have now lately reviewed it, as supposing I should find
many notions in it, that would require correction on cooler thoughts.
After four months lying by me, I looked on it as no longer mine,
because I had wholly forgotten it; but I confess with some
satisfaction, and perhaps a little vanity, that I found myself
entertained by it; my own judgment was new to me, and pleased me when
I looked on it as another man's. I see no opinion that I would retract
or alter, unless it be, that possibly the Italians went not so far as
Spain, for the invention of their operas. They might have it in their
own country; and that by gathering up the shipwrecks of the Athenian
and Roman theatres, which we know were adorned with scenes, music,
dances, and machines, especially the Grecian. But of this the learned
Monsieur Vossius, who has made our nation his second country, is the
best, and perhaps the only judge now living. As for the opera itself,
it was all composed, and was just ready to have been performed, when
he, in honour of whom it was principally made, was taken from us.

He had been pleased twice or thrice to command, that it should be
practised before him, especially the first and third acts of it; and
publicly declared more than once, that the composition and choruses
were more just, and more beautiful, than any he had heard in England.
How nice an ear he had in music, is sufficiently known; his praise
therefore has established the reputation of it above censure, and made
it in a manner sacred. It is therefore humbly and religiously
dedicated to his memory.

It might reasonably have been expected that his death must have
changed the whole fabric of the opera, or at least a great part of it.
But the design of it originally was so happy, that it needed no
alteration, properly so called; for the addition of twenty or thirty
lines in the apotheosis of Albion, has made it entirely of a piece,
This was the only way which could have been invented, to save it from
botched ending; and it fell luckily into my imagination; as if there
were a kind of fatality even in the most trivial things concerning the
succession: a change was made, and not for the worse, without the
least confusion or disturbance; and those very causes, which seemed to
threaten us with troubles, conspired to produce our lasting happiness.


Footnotes:
1. This definition occurs in the preface to the "State of Innocence;"
but although given by Dryden, and sanctioned by Pope, it has a very
limited resemblance to that which is defined. Mr Addison has,
however, mistaken Dryden, in supposing that he applied this
definition exclusively to what we now properly call _wit_. From the
context it is plain, that he meant to include all poetical
composition. --_Spectator_, No. 62. The word once comprehended human
knowledge in general. We still talk of the wit of man, to signify
all that man can devise.

2. The first Italian opera is said to have been that of "Dafne,"
performed at Florence in 1597. --_See_ BURNEY'S _History of Music_,
Vol. iv. p. 17.

3. This passage gave great offence, being supposed to contain an
oblique reflection on Purcell and the other English composers.

4. Alluding to the disputes betwixt the King and Parliament, on the
important point of the command of the militia. ]




PROLOGUE


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


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

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




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

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




THE

FRONTISPIECE.


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

_Discite justitiam, moniti, et non temnere divos. _

Over the queen, this of the same author,

_Non ignara mali, miscris succurrere disco. _




ALBION AND ALBANIUS.

AN

OPERA.


DECORATIONS OF THE STAGE IN THE FIRST ACT.

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

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

MERCURY DESCENDS IN A CHARIOT DRAWN BY RAVENS.

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

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


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!
O Hermes!