The LOVES OF MARS & VENUS. A Play set to Music, As it is Acted at the New Theatre, IN Little Lincolns Inn-fields. By His Majesty's Servants. Written by Mr. Motteux.

Fabula narratur toto notissima Coelo. Ovid.

LONDON, Printed, and are to be sold at the New Theatre, in Lit­tle Lincolns-Inn-fields. 1696.

TO THE HONOURABLE Collonel Codrington.


I Cannot more effectually enforce the Moral of this Piece which exposes the Frailty of a VVarrior, than by prefixing to it the Name of one who with the Bra­very and Gallantry of Mars has no allay of his Vices: And as among the few living Exemplars of such unsul­lied Vertue I know none more universally, nor more justly allow'd than your self, I must appeal from your Sentence to all the world, should your Favorite Mo­desty byass you to condemn the Necessity of this Ad­dress. While so many of our Youth are neglectful of their Ancestors Glory and their own, and indeed of every Thing but Effeminacy or Libertinism, 'tis fit we shou'd set before their Eyes not only the Deformities with which they are familiar, but the Beauties to which they are Strangers, that they may at once be sham'd into a Loathing of the one, and charm'd into an Ad­miration of the other. This wou'd require a Panegy­rick rather than an Epistle, if studied Ornaments, often injurious to prevailing Charms, were not as prejudicial [Page] to convincing Truth, which is most engaging in its in­nocent Nakedness, at which it needs not blush, since it never fell like man To those that know you, your Name alone will imply more than the best Oratory could display, and even an imperfect account of your Excellencies will seem almost incredible to others. You set out so soon and so vigorously for the Race of Glory, that in your early Morn we see you gain the Prize. Thus even at those years when others of your Birth and Fortune made no other use of the opportunities they had to improve their minds but to impair 'em, the general ill Example could not affect you, unless it were with Compassion; you despis'd their false Pleasures for the chast Love of that Celestial that Alma Venus of your own Lucretius, and that sublime Truth of your admir'd Malebranche. You even then reapt the Muses Laurels, as now you do those of Mars, while your brave Father in the New-world was gain­ing a Name that spreads over the old, as yours now flys from the one to the other. The World with amaze­ment saw you arise in full Glory, and reconcile Quali­ties thought almost incompatible; at once a nice and impartial Critic, yet a polite and excellent Master of Fancy; a Man of Wit and Conversation, yet a Respecter of sacred things; a Courtier, yet the best of Friends; a forward Soldier, yet a good Officer; and in short a profound Scholar, yet a fine Gentleman. Such partly Caesar was; thus he exerted the Writer and the Hero; but with this difference, he fought to enslave his Country, you to free Yours: and 't was but just that as your Studies have advanc'd you to an honourable Post among the Learned, so your Courage shou'd give you one among the Brave, that you might be at once a sin­gular Honor to either Station; the more, as you seek [Page] no other Benefit from both, but that of doing the more good to men of both Professions. For, far from being like those whose Pleasures engross their Youth and Wealth, you cannot be happy with yours, unless it makes others so; and I could instance some whose needy Modesty has found it self unexpectedly reliev'd by you, without being expos'd to any other Blushes than what so surprizing a Generosity could raise. I know Sir, you would have your Bounty conceal'd; but pardon me if I sav, 'tis too often imploy'd, not to be discover'd; besides it acts in so obliging a manner, that 'tis a pain to a grateful Spirit to conceal it; inso­much that he foregoes the Pride which waited on his Want, to own favours that humble him, if it can hum­ble a man to be reliev'd by you: For my part, I am so far from thinking that possible, that I have long been ambitious of having this opportunity of owning my self,

Your most devoted, most Obedient, and most Oblig'd Servant, P. Motteux


THis Musical Play or Masque was written to be inserted into a very short Farce written by Mr. Ravenscroft, called The Anatomist, or the Sham Doctor; without any other Expectation than that of being serviceable to my Friend. For I am too well acquainted with that way of Writing, and my own Incapacity, to aim at Reputation by it. The Rhimer here must sacri­fice that to the Musician, or rather to the Audience's Ear, if there be any Reputation to be challeng'd from Trifles of this Nature. I chose a subject never manag'd in a Dramatic way before; tho gallantly handled by Ovid, from whom I borrow'd it, as I have a couple of Songs from my self, formerly inserted elsewhere. I was prevailed witk to bring in a Song and Dance of Cyclopes, tho I knew there is one in Psyche, borrowed almost verbatim from Moliere's, as he borrow'd his from an old Italian Opera called Le Nozze de gli Dei; but mine is wholly different, which was more difficult than to have in­vented another. Whatever the Critics may think of the Lines, if any will honor them so far as to find fault with 'em, I dare assure, from the little judgment I have, and much more from the general approba­tion of the best Iudges, there has not been more agreeable, nor more masterly Music perform'd upon our Stage. The two great Composers having, as it were, nobly strove to outdo one another, and thus ex­cell'd even themselves.

By reason of the Symphonies and Repetitions some Lines are left out in the Singing, which may easily be known by the Marks prefix'd, and past over, when the Music is performing.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE. In the Introduction or Prologue.

ERato, the Muse that presides to Love Songs, &c. Mrs. Hodgson. Thalia, the Muse that presides to Comic Sports, Mrs. Perrin. Terpsichore, the Muse that presides to Dancing, &c. Mrs. Ayliff. Chorus of Singers and Dancers their Followers.

In the Play.
  • MArs Mr. Bowman.
  • Vulcan, Mr. Reading.
  • Gallus, (Mars's Pimp, design'd for Mr. Dogget) Mr. Lee.
  • Cupid, Iemmy Laroche.
  • Cyclopes.
    • Brontes,
    • Arges,
    • Steropes,
    • Pyrachmon,
  • Mars's Attendants.
    • Fear,
    • Anger,
    • Noise,
  • Chorus of Cupids.
  • Chorus of Warriors, some of 'em Dancers.
  • Iupiter.
  • Momus (with other Gods only seen) Mr. Sherburn.
  • Venus, Mrs. Bracegirdle.
  • Aglaia, one of the Graces, Mrs. Hodgson.
  • Enphrosyne, another of the Graces, Mrs. Ayliff.
  • Hora, one of the Hours that wait on Venus, Mrs. Perrin.
  • Iuno, (with other Goddesses only seen)
  • Four of the Cyclops Wives that dance.
  • Iealousy, Mrs. Hudson.

Prologue spoken by Mr. Betterton.

To day expect no Pageant Decoration,
This Lord May [...]rs Show began the Reformation:
Yet is our Entertainment odd and new;
We've in our Show the First of Cuckolds too:
And what we call a Masque some will allow
To be an Op'ra, as the World goes now.
So is your poysoning Quack miscall'd a Doctor,
And your worst Mimick calls himself an Actor.
So your dull Scribbler (to our Cost we know it)
Writes a damn'd Play, and is misnam'd a Poet.
Once Song and Dance cou'd buoy up want of Thinking,
But now those Bladders can't prevent its Sinking:
Plays grow so heavy, that those helps are vain;
Three times they rise, and never rise again.
Well, if our Neighbours the Precedence claim,
For good dull Stuff we'll not dispute with them.
Our Medley is perhaps as much too light,
But let it pass—We don't take Money yet by weight.
By Sympathy, 't shou'd please the Beaux, I know,
For in all things an Opra's like a Beau.
Both Beau and Op'ra on the Stage are seen;
Both odd in Dress, and shifting still the Scene;
Each dances, sings, and moves like a Machine.
To be admir [...]d, 'tis at a vast Expence;
It loves soft words, but cares not much for sence;
For by its Nature 'twas design'd for show;
Why, 'tis an Op'ra but to dress a Beau.
But one unlucky diff'rence stands between;
Op'ra's are paid, but Beaux pay to be seen,
(Those who don tcome to sharp an Act I mean)
For your own sakes, we beg Applause of you;
Since 'twill revenge you on the Scribbling Crew.
For, if this takes, strait crys each senceless Elf,
Dem me, I'd write as well as this my self.
With that he writes a thing, which we refuse,
Then, wondring how we durst affront his Muse,
Strait in a huff he gives it t' other House;
Who either slight it, or twill be its Lot
To get as much as their last Op'ra got,

Epilogue spoken by Mr. Bowen.

GOod People! save the Body of our Play,
From those who to dissect it Yonder stay;
Like Surgeons on an Execution day.
Ev'n e're it dyes they ll mawl it, I m afraid;
And you'd think t hard, like me, in such a dread,
To be dissected, e re you're hang'd, and dead.
The fear of this our trembling Scribbler kills;
I dare say they've no need to take my Pills.
Pray spare 'em: Learn of Vulcan to forgive;
Or else, egad, few Plays or Wives will live.
Ev'n he, methinks, too late his wrath did smother,
Here, Wives and Husbands keep not such a pother,
But fairly strive t' out-Cuckold one another.
Why, shou'd all dye that follow th' Occupation,
Oonds! twere the way to cut off half the Nation.
Besides, Horns are not seen; shou'd they appear,
Gadsooks, yon Place wou'd ev'n outhorn Horn-Fair.
You'd see your Surly Dons toss their Bull's Feathers,
And your tame poor Contented bleat like Weathers.
Lewd rakish Husbands, butt with Goatish Horns,
And half-made Cuckolds with an Unicorn's.
Now as all have to Cuckoldry a Call,
So will the Curse of scribling on you fasl;
'E gad these Times make Poets of us all.
Then do not damn your Brothers of the quill;
To be reveng'd, there's hope you'll write as ill.
For nere were seen more Scribes, yet less good writing,
As there nere were more Soldiers, yet less Fighting.
Both can do nothing if they want supplies.
Then aid us; and our League its neighbouring Foes defies;
Tho they brib'd lately one of our Allies.
Sure you'd not have us, for want of due pittance,
Like Nicompoops sneak to them for admittance.
No; prompt by you our fears and dangers cease,
Here firm, tho Wealth decay, and Foes increase,
We'll bravely tug for Liberty and Peace.

PROLOGUE, or Introduction.

Perform'd after the Prologue that is spoken.

The Overture: A Symphony of Trumpets, Kettle­Drums, Violins and Hautbois.

Scene the New Theatre.

Erato, Thalia, and Terpsicore, with their Attendants on both sides the Stage, are discover'd.

Acoompaniments of Instruments.

COme, all, with moving Songs prepare
To Charm the Witty and the Fair!
Ye Trumpets softly breathe, or cease!
Love may in Britaiu raise a War,
But 'twill be sweeter far than Peace.
Chorus repeats the foregoing Stanza.
One of Erato's Followers.
Love alone can here alarm us,
And he only strikes to charm us.
[Page 2]Gazing, liking, and admiring,
Firing, panting, and desiring,
Fearing, daring, trying, flying,
Feigning, pressing, faint denying,
Still reviving, fierce Delights;
This is Love, and these his Fights.
Ritornel of Flutes.
Eager Kisses,
Fiery Glances,
Balmy Blisses,
Melting Trances,
Kind Complying,
Kinder Dying,
Happy Days, and happier Nights,
Still reviving fierce Delights,
This is Love, and these his Fights.
Ritornel of Violins.
Two others.
Love, like War, has noble Cares:
War sheds Blood, and Love sheds Tears.
War has Swords, and Love has Darts;
War takes Towns, and Love takes Hearts.
Love, like War, the bold requires:
Love, like War, has Flames and Fires.
Love, like War, does Art admit;
Love, like War, for Youth is fit.
Ritornel of Violins.
Scorn, tho Beauty frowns, to tremble.
Lovers, boldly urge your Flame:
For a Woman will dissemble,
Loves the Joy, but hates the Name:
[Page 3]Her refusing, your pursuing
Yeild alike a pleasing pain,
Ever curing and renewing,
Soon appeas'd, to rage again.
'If the Soldier storms and rages,
'Face him with a lovely Maid:
'This his Fury soon assuages,
'And the Devil soon is laid.
'He ne're conquers but by Toyling,
'But the Fair subdues with Ease:
'Blood he sheds with hatred boyling,
'But the Fair can kill and please.
Ritornel of Violins.
To double the Sports to Thalia belongs;
I'll joyn Comic Scenes to your Amorous Songs:
To heighten Life's Pleasures, to soften its Cares,
No Charm like a Farce, no Physicians like Play'rs.
To treble the Pleasures,
With regular Measures,
My Train shall advance:
Some joyn in a Chorus;
While, gayly before us,
Some joyn in a Dance.
[Page 4]Grand Chorus.
Let Scenes of Mirth and Love,
With Songs and Dances joyning,
The fleeting hours improve,
And banish dull repining.
He who those Joys refuses,
When kindly they invite,
The End of Living loses;
Life's business is Delight.
While the Grand Chorus is performing, there is an Entry of Dancing-masters, teaching their Scho­lars, and making Love to 'em: and a Harlequin mimicking 'em with a She-Harlequin, which ex­presses the business of the Prologue. This Dance cannot be perform'd, the Master who made it being sick. Another Entry is danc'd instead of it.

The First Act.
Scene a Palace.

Overture. Violins and Hautbois.
Enter Aglaia and Euphrosyne.
TO meet her Mars, the Queen of Love
Comes here adorn'd with all her Charms
The Warrior best the Fair can move;
And crowns his Toyls in Beauty's Arms.
Symphony of Flutes. Enter Venus improving her Dress; attended by Hora, the Graces, and others.
Say, ye Graces, am I now
Fit to make Immortals bow?
Are my Dress, my Face, and Air
Fit to charm the God of War?
Say, ye Graces, am I now
Fit to make Immortals bow?
You've been scarce five hours a dressing;
Yet you're charming past expressing.
Let me see once more the Glass!
So!—I fancy it may pass.
She looks a while in the Glass while a Ritornel is plaid.
[Page 6] Euphrosine and Aglaia.
'Women seldom like their Faces,
'Tho they long consult the Glass;
'But, if you dare trust the Graces,
'You now ev'n your self surpass.
'And when Beauty's self engages,
'Arm'd with such a Dress and Air,
'She may conquer rigid Sages,
'And ev'n the rough God of War.
How slow the Warlike God I find!
On Love's expanded Wings expecting Lovers move
But slow as palsied age expected Lovers prove;
Love flags, and leaves the heavy mass behind.
Fly, ye hours; haste, bring him here
Swift as my fond Wishes are!
When we love, and love to rage,
Ev'ry Moment is an Age.
Enter Cupid, to the same Tune, and smiling.
But when blest with what we love,
Ages but a Moment prove.
Beauty's Goddess, cease to mourn:
Soon to your Arms,
From War's Alarms,
Your Lover will return:
Your Grief will then be lost in Kisses,
Melting Blisses,
You will gaze and laugh and toy:
As gloomy night
Adds Charms to Light,
So Absence to our Joy.
[Page 7]Venus.
Will my Soldier then be here?
Where was he? come, tell, my Dear?
Chucks Cupid under the Chin.
The rough Warrior rov'd a while
In the lovely British Isle.
Had not I his Flame renew'd,
He cou'd scarce have now been here;
For such Beauties there I view'd,
As might ev'n with You compare.
Tell me, gentle Cupid, how
In that Isle I'm worshipp'd now?
There the kindest Husbands are,
And the kindest-hearted Fair.
Each in Hymen's Bonds is free;
And, when Wives with Lovers go,
Cuckolds, not to disagree,
Thank the Men who make 'em so.
Others, fond of roving Lives,
Love all Women but their Wives.
Painted Beauties there abound;
Nay, some Men are painted too:
Crouds are in all Temples found,
But come most to worship You.
Happp Isle! and happier far,
If thou knew'st no other War!
Venus's Attendants repeat this Distich
Happy Isle! and happier far
If thou knew'st no other War!
[Page 8]

A March to a rough wild Tune.

Enter Vulcan with Brontes, Steropes, Arges, Pyrach­mon, and other Cyclopes.

Vulcan looks about with his Spectacles.

Where's my damn'd Wife? hoh! here she stands!
Methinks she's plaguy fine to day!
And this in spight of my Commands:
There's something in't; she looks too gay.
the grumbling Husband here?
Love no longer then can stay.
Exit Cupid with his Followers.
When the jealous Coxcomb's near,
All the Graces must away.
Exeunt the three Graces.

Now an hour will seem a day.

Manent Horae.
Thou Plague of my Life,
Thou Devil, thou Wife!
Come, tell me, why did you
Dress so like a Crack? you know I forbad you.
Why d' you Patch thus and prink?
What, you're Painted I think!
Why this Head six foot high?
S Blood and Fire, who am I?
My Fool; for what else can that Property b
That's ugly, and old, and ill-natur'd, like Thee?
[Page 9]I'll dress when I please, nay I'll Cuckold Thee too:
What else have young Wives with such Husbands to do?
If ever you dare,
I'll make the World know what a Strumpet you are.
Nay, what do I care?
You'll make the World know what a Cuckold you are.
Both at the same time in a scolding manner.

I'll make the World know what a Strum­pet you are.


You'll make the World know what a Cuckold you are.

Join, and curse the Tye with me,
That confines us to one Bed!
Thus at least we'll once agree;
Curs'd be he that made us wed!
Vulcan repeats that Verse three times with Venus.
Enter some Cyclopes and their Wives, at the noise of Vul­can and Venus's quarrelling.
Chorus of all.
Join, and curse the Tye with me
That confines us to one Bed!
Thus alone you can agree,
Curst be he, curst be he, curst be he that made you wed.
Some of the Cyclopes and their Wives dance, while the others are singing; and in the Dance they frown, jolt, and threaten each other, wring their hands, and kick backwards, and the Women make Horns at the Men.
The End of the First Act.

The Second Act.

Scene the Garden of Venus.

A March, with Trumpets and Kettledrums, and then with Hautbois, alternate.

Enter Mars, followed by Gallus, Fear, Anger, Noise, and a Body of Souldiers marching.








—None but Gallus further comes. Now face about.

They all face about, except Gallus.

—Sound, beat

A Retreat,

Ye Trumpets, and ye Drums.

March all to Quarters; March, and there remain, Till my Command renews the rough Campaign.

They all march out in Military order, except Mars and Gallus, who stay. The Drums, Trumpets and Hautbois continue the March alternate, till they are all gone.
Thou watchful Sentinel of Love,
Gallus, my trusty Spy,
By whom secure in am'rous Wars I move,
And all surprizing Foes defy,
Procure thy Master new Delight;
Go, bring my Goddess to my sight!
Gallus, looking sneekingly.
What if the limping Cuckold's nigh?
I may be bang'd,
And may be hang'd,
And then, god' b' y▪,
Gallus your trusty Spy!

No more: I on thy Vigilance rely.


I shall be kill'd.

Mars, offering to draw his Sword.

—By me.


—Hold, hold, I fly.

Gallus exit running.
Oh! Rival! you must happy be;
You ev'ry day my Goddess see.
Perhaps in vain you sigh and sue;
But you, at least, my Goddess view.
For such a dear bewitching sight,
Who would not gaze away the Light?
Oh! tho I see her ev'ry where,
I too too little see the Fair.
[Page 12]n vain to shun her sight I strove:
Here, in my Heart 'tis fixt by Love.
None can the Charming Image blot,
I see her, when I see her not.
And who can from her Chains be free'd?
She looks; and Gods themselves adore.
She smiles; then I'm a God indeed.
She's in my Arms; Oh then I'm more!

Enter Venus follow'd by Cupid and his Train, and Gallus after them.

Venus running into Mars' Arms.

My Mars!


—My Venus!

Mars and Venus.



My Life!


—My Soul, my dearest Mars!

—My dearest Venus! oh!
'Now let the World a Truce from Wars & Tumults know
'While Mars is here, 'tis Peace below.
'O Absence, now I see
'Unjustly we complain of Thee;
'Without Thy Pow'r cou'd I have hop'd to find?
'Even Beauty's Queen so charming and so kind.

My Life!


—My Soul!

[Page 13]Venus.

—My dearest Mars!


—My dearest Venus!



Cupid, while dumb Courtship passes between Mars & Venus.
Come, you Loves, clap ev'ry Wing;
Io Triumph! dance and sing!
Cupid's Followers dance.
'Come, you Loves, clap ev'ry Wing;
'Io Triumph! dance and sing!
Mars and Venus.
How sweet, how pleasing, when return'd,
The lovely Object whom we mourn'd!
Recruited Fires more fiercely warm,
And Absence heightens ev'ry Charm.
The Blessing that a while was lost,
When 'tis regain'd is valu'd most.
'How sweet, how pleasing, when return'd,
'The lovely Object whom we mourn'd!

My Life!


—My Soul!


—My dearest Mars!


—My dearest Venus!



[Page 14]Enter Vulcan while Venus is in the Arms of Mars, and saying—Oh!

So! so!

He offers to knock 'em down with his Hammer, but is hinder'd by Gallus.
Hold; Let the God of Anvils know,
My Master's Arms must be just so.
While he sings the last Verse, he puts his Arms about Vulcan s Neck, and then about his Body and Thighs, making motions to show him how a Coat of Armor should be made to fit Mars.
You sawcy Varlet, I say no.
Come, Bully Mars, let go, let go!
Your Arms must be just so, just so.
While he sings this, he takes Mars by the Arms, and lays 'em along his sides.
Hold, fiery Smith, I mean those Arms
Which you must frame for War's Alarms:
Those Arms must o re his Shoulders close just so,
As he now did to Venus show,
Only that she might let you know.
He's somewhat rough, she somewhat tender,
His leaning on her might offend her;
So she cry'd, Oh! That's all.

———Oh ho! is it so?

Now since you're come, if you're at Leisure,
An't please your Godship, take his Measure
Here Vulcan, Arm me, Cap-a-pié!
And let my Shield impenetrable be.
Let future Heroes there appear;
Place Greece's, Rome's, and brave Britain's there.
Let Alexander, Caesar, Arthur meet,
And all their Lawrels lay at greater William's Feet.
'William, more God like, and as brave,
'Shall only fight th' endanger'd World to save:
'William, my other self shall be;
'Inspir'd by
The Goddess Iustice.
Themis, and by me.
'Immur'd in Steel now Warriors safely fight;
'But Balls unseen with rapid Flight
'One day shall deal Destruction through the Field:
'William, with Brest unarm'd, shall face those fiery Foes;
'And Mars must kindly interpose,
'His Representative to shield.
Here, Vulcan, Arm me Cap-a-pié!
And let my Shield impenetrable be.
But good your Godship, know,
His Arms must be just so, just so.
Vulcan, hindering Venus from holding Mars; who, while Gallus sings, talks to her, making signs as if he gave her Directions about the Armor.
'Hold, I don't like my Wife should feel
'This ample Back of Brawn like Steel.
Come, Mistress, pray, what Business had you here!
[Page 16]Venus faultring.

I only-came-to—take—the Air, my Dear.


You rather came to Arm my Head, I fear.

Venus wheadling.
Go, now I hate you, now go to!
And cou'd you, cou'd you think I'd do
As I in jest did threaten you?
Go, now I hate you, now, go to.
Dull Fool! had I design'd to try,
Wou'd I have told you so before?
Besides, you see my Son was by.

Your Son's a Pimp, and you—


———No more.

'Why, sure some Fiend must have possest you!
''Tis but a Month since I caress'd you.
'Ungrateful Dear! cou'd you believe
'I wou'd my self and you deceive?
'What with that Fore-head can compare?
'Can any one read Cuckold there?
'That Leer! that Hip, that Heel and Toe!
'What tho' you're old? most Beaux are so.
'Nay, when I'm smugg'd up, I'm so comely,
'I know you cannot think me homely.
Come, for her Pardon humbly sue!
Tho' she were not so true,
[Page 17]She [...] [...] too good for you.
Come; for her Pardon humbly sue!
What shall I do?
I fear this Mars, and love and fear her too,
Come, for her Pardon humbly sue.
It must be so, My Deary, Deary!
My Love! my Soul!
———My hate, my Fool!
Pray, Chuck, don't frown, let me come near you!
Come, 'tis a Folly to repine,
You've had your Jest, pray pardon mine.
First ask his Pardon as you ought.
Vulcan to Mars.
You hear her, pray good Mars forgive my Fault.
Well, for her sake, no more of this be thought.
'Now, Dear, a Kiss in sign of Grace!
'Not till you've got you a new Face.
'Come, Buss'e; come, it must be so!
Venus after he had kiss'd her.
'Pish, you're so troublesom! Now go.
'Shou'd he not beg my Pardon too?
'Ah! how sweet is Reconciling,
'When a loving Pair is smiling,
'Free from Spleen or jealous doubt!
'O that we cou'd still be smiling,
'still thus kindly reconciling,
'And yet never falling out!
Now all is well, my Cyclops shall advance
With their newest Anvil-Dance.
Vulcan exit.
'Let's a while renew our Blisses
'In a sweet exchange of Kisses:
'Thus the Lover comes in Play,
'When the Husband is away.
'But alas he will not stay!
'Soon be gone; but soon return.
'Soon? no, I a whole tedious hour must mourn!
'I a whole tedious hour must be
'Depriv,d of Heav'n, depriv'd of Thee.
Enter Vulcan, with several Singing and Dancing Cy­clopes. They lay an Anvil en the middle of the Stage. Brontes, Arges, Steropes, and Pyrachmon, the four chief Cyclopes, Sing, while others Dance and strike on the Anvil.
Come, away; strike and sing,
Ting, ting, ting, terry terre, terry ting, &c.
Let us make the Caves ring,
[Page 19]Ting, ting, ting, ting, ting, ting,
While we forge Thunder-Bolts for Heav'n's King.
Ting, ting, ting.
-Steropes holding a red hot Bolt.
This he'll fling,
Ting, ting, ting.
At Cowards at Sieges, and Atheists at Pray'rs.
At a Husband, who by his Wife's Chastity swears.
This he'll fling, ting, ting, ting.
Chorus of Cyclops.
At promising Courtiers, and Fools that believe 'em;
At poor Rogues that give Bribes, and rich Knaves that receive 'em,
This he'll fling, &c.
'At a Weather-Cock Priest who nere thinks as he teaches.
'At a Cit in his Buff with his Heart in his Breeches.
This he'll fling, &c.
'At Beaux who protest they of Favours nere boast,
'Yet drink the Fair's Health ev'ry Night with a Toast.
This he'll fling, &c.
'At Masks, who at Fifty wou'd follow Love's Trade;
'At a Female of Twenty that swears she's a Maid.
This he'll fling, &c.
At a Couple who swear that they never repented;
At a Briton who says, he can long live contented.
This he'll fling, &c.
At a Ninny who finds a Gallant with his Wife,
Then begs both their Pardons for making a Strife.

'How! then I am fool'd I doubt?

'No, he jests; come, still be smiling,
'Free from Spleen, or jealous Doubt,
'Still be kindly reconciling,
'But be never falling out.
[Page 20]The Cyclopes with the rest joyn in a Chorus, and Dance, striking on their Anvil.
'Thus may your Joys for ever last,
'The Charms of Peace best after Wars we taste.
The End of the Second Act.

Act Third and Last.

Scene a Grove.

Symphony. Enter Vulcan, and Jealousie behind him.

MY Courage comes, now Mars is gone.
I'll not be Bullied into Patience.
I shou'd be jeer'd, shou'd he go on,
By Gods, and Godlins, and all Nations.
No, I'll be bold, now Mars is gone.
How shall I use this Rampant Creature?
Iealousie imitating Eccho——hate her.
What if I valiantly shou'd beat her?
Iealousie like Eccho,———beat her.
But when she wheadles I believe her.
Iealousie like Eccho,———leave her.
[Page 21]Will she still Jilt my kind Endeavour?
Iealousie like Eccho,———ever.
How! Eccho! what am I? speak Eccho?
Iealousie like a Cuckoe,—-——Cuckoe.
Symphony. Vulcan, thinking it to be the Cuckoe's Note.
Vile Bird, be curst for thy unwelcome Tongue!
Hence, let the lustful Sparrow hatch thy Young,
And Cuckoe be thy Name, and Cuckoe be thy Song!
Let Married Wretches dread, yet share thy Name,
Their Wives the Guilt, yet theirs the Shame,
Till Cuckoe spreads thro' all the Universal Frame.
Iealousie discovers her self.
See, Vulcan, Iealousie appears!
Tho' not to ease, but raise thy Cares.
Still restless round the World I run,
To rack the wretched Lover's Mind:
I watch and journey with the Sun,
To search for what I dread to find.
Thence sliding on a Beam, my Eye
Saw Mars with Venus loosely toy.
Revenge me Hell, new Pains invent!
To plague 'em, all thy Racks I'll steal.
No, that's too mild a Punishment;
Let'em both share the Hell, the greater Hell I feel.
Exeunt Vulcan and Jealousie.
[Page 22]Enter Venus and Mars following her, and Gallus and Euphrosyne after 'em.
Yeild, my Dear, let f [...]ll possessing
Crown my Love, and Charm my Sence.
No, I must oppose your pressing
With as gallant a Defence.
When Love's Harvest shou'd be reaping,
Will you waste the Time in Doubt?
Ev'ry Town that's worth the keeping,
Keeps a while th' Invader out.
Cheap Embraces quickly cloy;
Easy Conquest seems a Toy:
But denying,
Struggling, flying,
Wanton playing,
Wise delaying,
Raise us to a Sence of Joy.
Mars and Venus.
Love's a Hawk, and stoops apace:
We all hurry
For the Quarry,
Tho' the Sport ends with the Chace.
Ritornel. Exit-Venus and Mars after her.
Gallus to Euphrosyne.
Come Child, let us kiss, hang dull silly wooing,
'Tis time, like our Betters, we two shou'd be doing.
Kind Fate still assigns, as a Custom that's common▪
To the Mistress, the Master, the Man to the Woman.
[Page 23]Euphrosyne.
Be still, I hate your wanton Play,
Yet on a wanton Mistress wait?
What others can be found of late?
If now we cannot still obey,
See all, hear all, and nothing say,
'Twere pity we shou'd serve the Great.
What, wou'd you have me dully wooe?
I cannot flatter, cringe, and sue:
Yet if high Love must pass between us,
Come, I'll be Mars, do you be Venus.
Like a Soldier.
Dear Madam, you're so damn'd inviting,
Rot me, I love you more than Fighting.
There cannot be a better sport,
Than to besiege so fine a Fort:
Your Eyes strange Execution do;
Yet I must dye, or conquer you.
Hold, or my Hands will prove to you
Offensive, and Defensive too.
'Tis vain, make what defence you please,
These two white Rising Tow'rs I'll seize.
Struggles with her.
——I must storm then.
——Do, do, I defie you.
Be quiet, nay don't you; I'll cry out.
———I'll try you.
Do, do, I defie you; do, no Body's by you,
Hold, hold!
———I hold you.
——Hold, hold, or I'll fly you.
I hold you.
—I'll fly you.
———Do, do, I defie you.
Gallus carries her off.
Re-enter Vulcan, having laid a Net by the Couch.
My Wife and her Bully are coming this way;
Tho' kill them I cannot, expose 'em I may.
Since Chains of hot Lust, their dark Union have made,
In Fetters as subtle they'll here be betray'd.
Well, let ev'y Fumble,
Who like me will stumble,
Be soon made as humble
As I!
And may his Wife fly him,
Or court others by him,
And Fate then deny him
To dye.
Re-enter Mars and Venus.
Mars very Amourously.
How my Passion is encreas'd
With imperfect Pleasure toying!
I'll no more starve at a Feast,
Nor enjoy without enjoying.
[Page 25] Venus running into his Arms.
Ah! my Dear, my Soul, my all!
Thus for ever let me lye!
In thy Arms I ravish'd fall,
Tranc'd in melting Joys I dye.
Mars and Venus sit upon the Couch.
'O bless me less! th' Almighty Joy
'Will ev'n Divinity destroy▪
'It shakes and labours with the Bliss,
'And wastes, and wastes with ev'ry stronger Kiss.
Wild Musick. It Thunders, and at the same time, The Net spreads over 'em, The Scene o­pens and discovers in a Glory, Ju­piter, Juno, and other Heavenly Deities.
Mars, rous'd out of his Extasie, and finding himself caught.
'Hah! am I fall'n from Heav'n to Hell?
'No, still 'tis Heav'n bright Goddess where you dwell.
How! trapt in Chains! Iove here! Curst Vulcan too!
Ye Gods, what Being ever fell
So low, from high'r than you?
To Gallus.
Dull Spye, by whose Neglect I'm caught,
'Turn to a Bird, and by thy early Call,
('Lest secret Lovers like me fall)
'Prevent the prying Sun, and thus attone thy Fault.
'Here for ever thus remain:
'Strong as Fate is Vulcan's Chain.
'Curs'd be the Pair that brand my Front with Shame!
'Most curst my Wife! Damn, all Adult'rers, Damn,
[Page 26]'May my worst Fires boyl their Salacious▪Blood,
'Corrode their Flesh, dry up the tainted Flood;
Prey on their Bones, their inmost Marrow fry,
Till they curse Heav'n, like me, and vainly wish to dye!
Momus laughing to Mars.
Dear Bully, thou'rt fitted; long may you lye thus!
'Tis sweet to make Cuckolds; but why one of us?
What's cheaper than Women? Look, yonder appears
A World of kind Wives, and of She Volunteers!
Not one here but wishes t'have been in your place:
Yet, Vulcan, thou'rt wise thus to spread thy Disgrace:
Thus Jealousy's cur'd, and Men gladly will know,
There are Cuckolds above, as well as below.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, hah! as well as below.
The Chorus, Repeat the last two Lines.
Symphony. Enter Cupid with a Train of Cupids.
Thus all unequal Unions break.
Thus Hymen without Love is weak.
But I'll exert my Pow'r anew,
Make Vulcan kind, and Venus true.
Her Gratitude will soon Improve,
And Friendship shall resemble Love.
Where Hymen wove unequal Tyes,
Love to no higher Pitch can Rise:
Cupid strikes Vulcan with an Arrow.
Compell'd by Love and Fate's resistless Pow'r,
We lov'd, we fail'd, your Pardon I implore.
Well, I'm a Fool! will you do so no more?
Venus, Mars, and Cupid.
No more, no more, no more.
Vulcan goes to set 'em free.
[Page 27]A March with Trumpets and Kettle-Drums, &c.
Enter the Followers of Mars. Immediately after the Warlike Musick, Flutes, and other soft Musick, are hear'd.
Rouse, God of War, to Arms, to Arms!
To Love, to Love, to Love's Alarms!
To War, to War, to War's Alarms!
Hark! Flutes are warbling Love!
———Hark! Trumpets answer War.
War, Battles, Conquests, Triumphs, Glory, War,
None but he is worthy Love,
Whom the Charms of Glory move.
Cupid and Mars hand in hand.
None but he is worthy Love,
Whom the Charms of Glory move
Grand Chorus of all the Voices and Instruments.
Hail! Great Gods of Love and War!
Thus the World's vast▪ Empire share!
—Glory without Love is vain.
—Without Glory Love's a Bane.
Cupids and Warriors.
None but he is worthy Love,
Whom the Charms of Glory move.
Hail! Great Gods of Love and War!
Thus the World's vast Empire share!

[Page 28]While the Grand Chorus is perform'd, se­veral of Cupid's Followers Dance to Flutes, and other soft Musick; and several of Mars's Followers Dance to Trumpets, and other Warlike Musick Alternately; the Warriors strike on their Shields a kind of Tune with their Scymitars, and Dance a Pyrrhick Dance, by Fits fighting off the Stage suddenly, and then immediately the Cupids come in and Dance, with their Bows and Arrows seeming to aim at each other, then also go off, and re-enter by Fits, which ends the Entertainment.

An Explanation of the Fable of Mars and Ve­ [...]. Out of Mr. Motteux's Gentleman's Journal, Month of Ianuary, Vol: 3.

THE oldest of the Heathen Gods was Coelus, whose Son Saturn is sometimes describ'd like an old man devouring his Children, and at others with Wings and a Scyth; with which having spoilt his Father's propagating Faculty, lest he should produce other Beings, some of the Blood fell into the Sea, and mixing with the foamy Waves give birth to Venus.

By Coelus the Ancients seem to have meant the Heavens, whose motions give birth to Time, which is figured by Saturn, made old because first created; and said to devour his Children, Time devouring its Off-spring. The Wings imply its swiftness, and the Scyth that it mows down all. Saturn castrating Coelus shows, that Time soon takes from things the power of multiplying their Kind, lest they should encrease to too great a Number, and that the Destruction of one is the production of another▪ also, that even after the loss of the Power, Desire fluctuates, and creates Venus.

Fair Venus is the Wife of limping Vulcan, and Cu­pid is her Son; Mars is the Son of Juno, who by the ad­vice of Flora, begot him, having toucht a Flower, to be even with Jupiter, who begot Minerva out of his Brain without any other help. Mars is charm'd, courts and enjoys Venus, but Phoebus discovers this to Vulcan, who frames so artificial a Net, that he [...]cures Mars and Venus in it, who are expos'd to the laughter of the Gods.

Venus is libidinous Pleasure, which is always wed­ded to the Fire of Lust, which is the reason that Vul­can [Page 30] is made ugly, because Lust is so; li [...]ping like too [...] its infected Votaries; and supporting himself with a stick, because Fire cannot subsist witho [...] Fuel; made▪ God of Smiths, because Lustful flames [...] to forge and sharpen the first points of Love, that is, the Arms of Cupid; [...] it, made those of the Trojans and Greeks in another sence, the Loves of Paris and Helena having caus'd those two Nations to take up Arms. And as Venus is daughter of the Sea▪ Vulcan's Wife, and Mars's Mistress, she's apt to cause stormy commo­tions, Fire and Bloodshed.

As for Jupiter's having without any help produc'd out of his Brain Minerva the Goddess of Arts and Sciences, call'd Pallas and Bellona, when she presides to defensive arms, this means the omnipotent Deity, who by his supream wisdom has form'd all states, and given to Man Arts and Sciences, with the means of defending himself against his Enemies. Juno is Riches Iealousie and Envy, that beg at Mars, which is War, in opposition to Minerva, that is the flourishing condition of Governments. Flora by whom Juno is advis'd, means Youth, to whose rash advice War often ows its beginning. By Mars Warriors are to be un­derstood, who gazing on Venus, or libidinous Pleasure, are entic'd; and abandoning themselves to an ignoble sloth, lose their martial vigor, which is only preserv'd by milita­ry Discipline. Now this cannot be hid from the piercing eyes of a prying observer, meant by the Sun, whose light discovers all the i [...]tr [...]ague to the Enemy: Thus they are surprized in the snare which the Fire of Lust, the Husband of unl [...]wful pleasure has laid for them, and ex­pose to the censure of the Gods, that is, thier Superiours and the World.


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