Concern, Men shall be from henceforth liable to the greatest Reproach for Misbehaviour in it.  Falsehood in Love shall hereafter bear a blacker Aspect than Infidelity in Friendship or Villany in Business.  For this great and good End, all Breaches against that noble Passion, the Cement of Society, shall be severely examined.  But this and all other Matters loosely hinted at now and in my former Papers, shall have their proper Place in my following Discourses:  The present writing is only to admonish the World, that they shall not find me an idle but a very busy Spectator.

[Footnote 1:  can]

[Footnote 2:  blooming Beauty]

* * * * *

No. 5.  Tuesday, March 6, 1711.  Addison.

      ‘Spectatum admissi risum teneatis?’

      Hor.

An Opera may be allowed to be extravagantly lavish in its Decorations, as its only Design is to gratify the Senses, and keep up an indolent Attention in the Audience.  Common Sense however requires that there should be nothing in the Scenes and Machines which may appear Childish and Absurd.  How would the Wits of King Charles’s time have laughed to have seen Nicolini exposed to a Tempest in Robes of Ermin, and sailing in an open Boat upon a Sea of Paste-Board?  What a Field of Raillery would they have been let into, had they been entertain’d with painted Dragons spitting Wild-fire, enchanted Chariots drawn by Flanders Mares, and real Cascades in artificial Land-skips?  A little Skill in Criticism would inform us that Shadows and Realities ought not to be mix’d together in the same Piece; and that Scenes, which are designed as the Representations of Nature, should be filled with Resemblances, and not with the Things themselves.  If one would represent a wide Champain Country filled with Herds and Flocks, it would be ridiculous to draw the Country only upon the Scenes, and to crowd several Parts of the Stage with Sheep and Oxen.  This is joining together Inconsistencies, and making the Decoration partly Real, and partly Imaginary.  I would recommend what I have here said, to the Directors, as well as to the Admirers, of our Modern Opera.

As I was walking [in] the Streets about a Fortnight ago, I saw an ordinary Fellow carrying a Cage full of little Birds upon his Shoulder; and as I was wondering with my self what Use he would put them to, he was met very luckily by an Acquaintance, who had the same Curiosity.  Upon his asking him what he had upon his Shoulder, he told him, that he had been buying Sparrows for the Opera.  Sparrows for the Opera, says his Friend, licking his lips, what are they to be roasted?  No, no, says the other, they are to enter towards the end of the first Act, and to fly about the Stage.