A mock opera, call'd Venus and Adonis; or, The triumphs of love. : As it is acted at Punch's Theatre, Covent-Garden. / Powell, Martin, active 1710-1729.

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Folio A1 recto, text: Powell's MOCK OPERA; OR, Venus and Adonis.
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Folio A2 recto, text: A MOCK OPERA, CALL'D Venus and Adonis; OR, The Triumphs of Love. As it is Acted at Punch's THEATRE, Covent-Garden. Written by MARTIN POWELL. LONDON: Printed by G. Parker, for the Author, and Sold at the Office of the Theatre, in the Little Piazza, Covent-Garden. .1713. (Price 6d.)
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Folio A3 recto, text: To the most Ingenious Machionists OF THE Hay-Market THEATRE. SIRS, EPISTLES and Prefaces have been so much in Fashion of late, that very few Plays or Opera's have been publish'd without. Some have been wholly for Prose, others for Verse; some for serious Lan-
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Folio A3 verso, text: The Dedication. Language, others for Farce; but all agree in this, That Plays are but Diversions in what kind soever understood: Now lest I should appear Ig- norant of the Fashion, and thought uncapable of follow- ing it, I am oblig'd to say something too; but since I am resolv'd against any long learned Discourse, I shall only give you a Taste of my Ex- perience, which I hope may be Pleasant and Diverting. You having done me the Honour in giving me a Sight of your Incomparable Fancy in Machinary, I have ever since made it my chiefest Thoughts to find out some Way where- by
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Folio A4 recto, text: The Dedication. by I might manifest my De- sire of expressing my Obliga- tion, which I cannot do in a more publick manner than thus: The end of this Ad- dress is, that I am in great Hopes this little Opera will gain a greater Reputation, it being Patroniz'd by you, whose Genius is so great and Brains so fertile, that certain- ly the Opera's of France and Italy must drop whilst you ab- sent your selves from thence to Instruct the Stage of Great- Britain. Such Projectors as you give new Life to Invention; your Foreign Pencil likewise Instructs Painters : Indeed, the latter two are a-kin, being the Effects of Fancy, and one often-
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Folio A4 verso, text: The Dedication. oftentimes helps out the other, as may be seen in your last great and rich Machine. All must own, that it was most Ingenious, Surprising, and Uncommon, particularly the vast Number of curling Clouds, like a mighty Sea, it brought before it; and as it gently mov'd towards the Spectators, it appear'd more wonderful to see those rare- fy'd Clouds striving to outvie each other in Brightness; their quick Contraction, and sud- dain forming themselves to a Temple: For my part, I was Astonish'd at the Sight, and fancyd my self to be in some Coelestial Sphere. Oh! that my
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Folio B1 recto, text: The Dedication. my little Inventions were not confin'd like a Butterfly in a Tar-Barrel, and had a Stage in Circumference containing an Acre, yct not one of my wooden-headed Managers woud be capable of bringing so great a Machine to such Perfection, which I dare nor so much as imitate. My cal- low-wing'd Fancy dare not soar so high, lest it should be com- pard with the foolish Ar- cades, that presum'd, that if they cou'd once attain to the Top of a certain Mountain they might reach the Moon; but when they, with a great deal of Pains, had reach'd the Top of, it, how much they fell short of their Aim is easy B to
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Folio B1 verso, text: The Dedication. to guess. So least my aspir- ing Thoughts should make me share the same Fate, I'll end this Epistle, strengthen'd with the Hopes, that when you have seen this little Per- formance, you'll do me the Honour of recommending it to your Friends abroad, and you will highly oblige, Your most Obedient Humble Servant, M. Powell.
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Folio B2 recto, text: THE PREFACE TO THE READER. THAT which induced me to Print this little Opera, was in Compliance with my great Patron, Punch: Who meeting with some Reflections from the greater Opera, comparing his little Fabrick to a Tar-Barrel, and his Person to a Butterfly; which highly displeased him, and to vent his Spleen beat his empty Noddle against every Scene. B2 And
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Folio B2 verso, text: The Preface to the Reader. And all the little Gentry seem'd to resent the same, and discover'd their Chagreen by nodding their wooden Heads at cach other; nor cou'd their Fury be appeas'd, till King Bladud, and Whittington, pro- mis'd to supply them with a large Sum of Money, to enable 'em to erect an Opera, which could not be contain'd in a Tar-Barrel, and so the Rupture ceas'd. PRO-
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Folio B3 recto, text: PROLOGUE. As the industrious Bee, in Verdant Meads, Oft draws Melliffluous Juice from Rank- est Weeds; So I, from Urns of Lovers long since Slain, Produce most Noble Acts; and spare no Pain, Nor Cost, if I to please you may at- tain. Venus and Adonis, of Beauty bright, I humbly offer to your piercing Sight. No loose Expression here shall pass for Wit, No Blasphemy affright, the Trembling Pit: No Modish Curse, shall Lard a Trifling Scene, Nor Roaring Hero, Swear and nothing Mean, To
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Folio B3 verso, text: PROLOGUE. To chuse Diversions, such shall be my Care, As shall not give Offence to any Vertuous Ear; Such as shall give to every one Delight, Such as you'll see presented here to Night, Will give Offence to neither Church nor State, Burlesque no Text, Buffoon no Magi- strate; Laugh at no Law, but with such Caution move, As will, if possible, deserve your Love. No longer shall poor Punch in Fetters Toil, Nor with Complaints his tedious Hours beguile, Whilst You thus shine upon him with a Smile, He still for Blessing on You all shall pray, And Tributary Thanks shall thus for ever pay.
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Folio B4 recto, text: Dramatis Personae. Men. Adonis. A little smooth-fac'd Youth fine- ly dress'd, adorn'd with the best Spangles and Gold-Tabby that came last from Italy, and never seen on the Stage before. Cupid. A Trifle, a very great Mischief- maker; one who makes old Men Children, and Boys set up for Men; newly arriv'd from the Hands of the Work- man. Jupiter. That by his mock Rattling breaks all Things to pieces. Perform'd by a mischievous Ape. Mars. Your old Friend Punch, who from a Coxcomly Shepherd is Transform'd by Jupiter to the mock God of Battle, and ban- ter'd with the Love of Proser- pine. Women. Venus. A devilish Goddess that has ruin'd Millions of People, and never was sorry till her lov'd Adonis was kill'd; dressd like the fair Deceivers that Imitate her. Pallas. The Reverse of Minerva, looks like an Alderman with a grave Face, and little Wisdom, who sings much, and consequently requires little Wit. Proserpine. Whom Punch runs mad for; per- form'd by a Monkey lately dead, who sings as well as if she had been living. Pan, Satyrs, Nymphs, and Swains.
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Page 1, text: [1] VENUS and ADONIS: OR, The Triumphs of Love. ACT I. SCENE. Cupid's Bower. Enter Cupid, meeting Venus. Cupid. WElcome Love's Goddess, and Royal Mother: What brought bright Venus here to Cupid's Bow'r? How came that lovely Face with Grief opprest? Can Cupid give his beauteous Mother rest? Venus. Cupid, my Son, whose uncontrouling Sway Makes all Coelestial Deities obey: O force Adonis Heart to yield to Love, Of all thy Works, the Master-piece 'twill prove. O kindle flames in him, like those in me, And grant, that I his Beauty soon may see. C Let
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Page 2, text: 2 Venus and Adonis; Or, Let me then view those Eyes, whose shining Light, Alone can Pleasure give to Venus Sight. Just like a Ship, whilst every Mountain-Wave Threatens the Marriners with a gaping Grave; Such is my Case, and so my State appears, Alike distracted, between Hopes and Fears. Into the Woods I'll go, and there complain, Nor think of Pleasure, till you come again. Cupid. Despair not Mother, Adonis shall be thine, Or ne'er let Cupid in your Favour shine. From yonder Mount, that over-looks my Bow'r, Adonis now descends; 'tis Venus happy Hour. With my keen Dart, I will so pierce his Breast, That none but your soft Arms, shall give him rest. [Exeunt. SCENE. A Forest. Enter Punch in a Shepherds Habit. Punch. Was ever Mortal so affronted? To be scorn'd by all the Nymphs, and deny'd to Hunt with the Swains? God Pan too, with his Cloven-footed Gang of Satyrs to mock me: Adsbobs, now I'm in the Hu- mour to abuse 'em all. Jupiter is a Jugler, Mars is a Bully, Apollo a poor Paultry Poet, Bacchus a drunken Drawer, Mercury a Morris-dancing Pimp, Venus a Town-Jilt, Cupid a blind Archer, and Pan a Savage Cuckold. And I'm resolv'd, if I meet 'em in the Chace, I'll throw my doubl'd Fist in their Face. [Exit Enter
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Page 3, text: The Triumphs of Love. 3 Enter Cupid. Cupid. What's he, that so Profanes our Deity, And scorns the Pow'r That all the God's Adore? He that dare slight the belov'd Muses Sound, With my keen arrow, shall receive his Wound. I'll curse thee with loving Proserpine. [Throws an Arrow. With my swift Wings I'll take my speedy Flight, Lest young Adonis shou'd escape my Sight. [Ascends. C2 ACT
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Page 4, text: 4 Venus and Adonis; Or, ACT II. SCENE I. First Stage a Village. Enter Punch. Punch. I will justify, that a Man had better have the Devil ride through his Guts with a Bundle of Thorns at his Breach, than to be in Love: And as the Devil would have it, with Proserpine, sure I was in a woundy Heat when I went to Hell to choose a Mistress: 'Twas but t'other Day that I was rail- ing against Love and Poetry; and now I think of nothing else, speak nothing else, and eat nothing but Poetry, and now it wombles to come forth. See she comes! Proserpine rises in a Cave. Proserpine, thou whose Beauty doth enrich us, Tell me the Cause why thou dost so bewitch us: This Day my Love was Born, tho' not Begotten, This Day I'll think on, when I'm Dead and Rotten. And though thy Coyness, and thy pretty Scorn, Makes many wish, that thou hadst ne're been Born; Yet for my part, this I will swear and say, I wish thy Time of Birth were every Day. So Venus look'd, when the Idalian Boy Confirmed her Beauty, with the Curse of Troy: Just so she look'd, with such an Air she smil'd, When she two Rival Goddesses beguil'd. Thy double Tire of Teeth do show, forsooth, Whiter than Ivory, or a Bitches Tooth; Thy
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Page 5, text: The Triumphs of Love. 5 Thy Voice like Bird in Hedge, in Time of Spring, Do's bewitch me confoundedly to Sing. The SONG. Proserpine, 'tis to Thee I Sing, I love Thee more than any Thing. Love and Fire's got in my Head, Then take me quickly to thy Bed, But what to do need not be said. With a ho, with a ha, With a ho, ho, ho, ho, &c. Love and Fire's got, &c. [Proserpine s1inks. She's gone! she's sunk! she's dead! she's buried! I shall go Mad, I'll Roar, and Rant, and Swear; And all this I will do, because I dare. Since she's dead, what Method shall I take To raise some Monument that's wondrous great? To inrich her Tomb, nor Shrines, nor Altars spare, But strip the shining Gods to make it rare. [Exit. ACT
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Page 6, text: 6 Venus and Adonis; Or, ACT III. SCENE I. The Palace of Venus. Adorn'd with proper Ornaments, and the Statues of the Pantheon heightned with Gold. Enter Venus and Adonis. Venus. Let Musick sound from the Coelestial Sphere, Whilst Satyrs, Swains, and Nymphs, divert us here. Let Mortals join the Deities Above, To Crown the Triumphs of my glorious Love. Shepherds, Shepherdesses and Satyrs, Dance. The Horn sounds. Adonis. Hark! Diana's Horn invites me to the Chace: The Gods in full Divan have all decreed, That a most monstrous Boar this Day shall bleed. Venus. Adonis, wilt thou then from me be gone, And leave me hear to mourn and sigh alone? Regard'st thou not the Flower of my Youth, When of my Love, thou hast so large a Proof? Thou captivated hast long since my Heart: And wilt thou now unkindly from me part? O do not go, the Danger's very great; Thy Death, I much do fear, it will create. Adonis.
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Page 7, text: The Triumphs of Love. 7 Adonis. Let my fair Goddess, from sad Grief for- bear, For no Danger in these Huntings are; Let Venus then, banish all Thoughts of Fear. He that from Beauty's Charms too long doth rove, Never yet knew the Sweets of youthful Love. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Forest. The Horn sounds, the wild Boar crosses the Stage; and after him God Pan, Adonis, Swains, and Satyrs in Chace. Re enter Adonis wounded. Adonis. Ah, what a sad unfortunate Man was I, Not to observe the Tears of her fair Eye: Her sweet Perswasions were, I should not go; Still to her Suit I ever answer'd, No. And yet grim Death, it is not thee I fear, for Her alone is all my Grief and Care. Adieu, fair Venus, adieu to thee a while, Our future Joys will inake us both to smile. [Dies. Enter Venus, and kneels. Venus. What cruel Fate brought this Sight hither? Why did we not die both together? How sad and unhappy is Venus Fate, Thus to be made at once Unfortunate? He's gone! he's gone! the glorious Youth is fled: Then why do I in vain bewail the Dead? My
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Page 8, text: 8 Venus and Adonis; Or, My Doves and Chariot, now with speed prepare, His Soul I'll overtake, tho' flying thro' the Air; The Deities Above, I then will move, For Life Eternal to my God-like Love. [Exit. Curtain drops. ACT
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Page 9, text: The Triumphs of Love. 9 ACT IV. Soft Musick as the Machines descend. After the first Machine, Venus and Pallas de- scend in two several Machines; at the Feet of Venus two Dogs, and at Pallas's an Owl and a Cock: The two lesser Ma- chines break through the larger, and move to the Front of the Stage. Venus. Let great Apollo now the Muses join, Whilst I in Tears do mourn the Youth divine: For all my earthly Joys at once are fled, My much belov'd Adonis being dead. Pallas Sings. IF now the Smiles of Pallas ought you Prize, My dearest Venus dry up thy watry Eyes: The Gods all Mourn throughout their Spheres, To see Love's Goddess drown'd in Tears, D Drown'd
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Page 10, text: 10 Venus and Adonis; Or, Drown'd in Tears, Drown'd in Tears, To see Love's Goddess drown'd in Tears. [They Ascend. Jupiter and Proserpine descend in the Front of the Stage, and sing; whilst Mars descends in his Palace, and moves towards 'em. Jupiter Sings. O Proserpine, look up and see Great Jove descend to visit thee; Likewise Punch, by thee so hated, To great Mars is now translated: Then take the God into thy Arms, Lest Thund'ring Jove, shou'd crush thy Charms; Crush thy Charms, Crush thy Charms, Lest Thund'ring Jove, shou'd crush thy Charms. Proserpine
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Page 11, text: The Triumphs of Love. 11 Proserpine Sings. THE Commands of Love I'll obey, Love is dangerous to delay, Since Punch has stole my Heart away. Let Pluto rave, and tear his Brain, 'Tis Mars, or Punch, must quench my Flame. Quench my Flame, Quench my Flame, 'Tis Mars, or Punch, must quench my Flame. D2 Mars
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Page 12, text: 12 Venus and Adonis; Or, Mars Sings. THEN take great Mars into thy Arms, And thou shalt rifle all my Charms: In wanton Love whole Nights we'll range, And now and then a Haugh we'll change. Let's new ascend with Jove Above, And with our Haugh proclaim our Love, With a Ha, ha, ha, ha, proclaim our Love. [They all ascend. Iris
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Page 13, text: The Triumphs of Love. 13 Iris descends on a Rainbow, and speaks the EPILOGUE. SWift! swifter still! for methinks I move to slow. What holds my Silver Wings from making hast, When every Cloud I see sails by so fast? Luna flies wrap'd in Foggy Clouds of Night, To shun the Rays of bright Apollo's Light. See with what haste the Feathered Hours run, To dress the gaudy Chariot of the Sun: Whilst
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Page 14, text: The EPILOGUE. Whilst Nymphs and Swains, at Love's bright Altar meet, Their sacred Vows to pay at Venus Feet. For till old Time his Christial Glass hath hurld, And from it lost the Ashes of the World, No Mortal shall be free from Cupid's Dart, But Love shall Triumph over every Heart. As
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Page 15, text: As Iris Ascends, the Clouds break and discover the British Machinary, beau- tify'd with the Figure of Her Britannick Majesty, seated on Her Throne; at- tended by the Honourable House of Peers, and Chief Ministers of State. The Machine breaks into several Tri- umphant Arches, and form themselves into double and treble Prospects, with all the Trophies taken from the Enemy under their Feet. FINIS.
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