THE BRITISH ENCHANTERS:
OR, NO MAGIC LIKE LOVE.
A DRAMATIC POEM.
With ſcenes, machines, muſic, and decorations, &c.
THE PREFACE.
Of all public ſpectacles, that which ſhould properly be called an Opera is calculated to give the higheſt delight. There is hardly any art but what is required to furniſh towards the entertainment; and there is ſomething or other to be provided that may touch every ſenſe, and pleaſe every palate.
The poet has a twofold taſk upon his hands in the dramatic and the lyric: the architect, the painter, the compoſer, the actor, the ſinger, the dancer, &c., have each of them their ſeveral employments in the preparation, and in the execution.
The ſame materials indeed, in different hands, will have different ſucceſs; all depends upon a ſkilful mixture of the various ingredients. A bad artiſt will make but a mere hodge-podge with the ſame materials that one of a good taſte ſhall prepare an excellent olio.
The seasoning muſt be ſenſe. Unleſs there is wherewithal to pleaſe the underſtanding, the eye and the ear will soon grow tired.
The French opera is perfect in the decorations, the dancing, and magnificence; the Italian excels in the muſic and voices; but the drama falls ſhort in both.
