Jupiter and the neighbours all Make game of me and Doney; But, notwithstanding, I with him Contemplate matrimony. For he can play on the _cornet_, And sing most musically; And not a Duke in all the land Can beat him at "Aunt Sally." Venus and Adonis have always been great favourites with the producers of travestie. Among those who have made them the central figures of burlesque are Mr. Burnand, whose work was brought out in 1864, and Mr. Edward Rose, whose "Venus," written in collaboration with the Mr. Augustus Harris, and first performed at the Royalty in 1879 (with Miss Nelly Bromley as the heroine), was re-written for revival, and finally taken as the foundation of a third production in 1880. In "The Deep, Deep Sea," brought out in 1833, Planché selected as the basis of his work the story of Perseus and Andromeda. He treated it with his usual reverence for the original legend. He represented Juno and the Nereids as being angry with King Cepheus, and sending the sea-serpent to devastate his shores. James Vining played the Serpent, and his approach was announced to the monarch in the following strain:-- Mighty monarch, stir your stumps as if Old Nick were following: A serpent with an awful twist has landed on your shore; Our gallant soldiers, guns and all, by regiments he's swallowing; And munching up musicians and composers by the _score_! Of counsel learned in the law but _brief_ work he is making-- Apothecaries just as they were pills, sir, he is taking; He snaps the parson right in two, as well as his oration; And ere the beadle bolts the door, he bolts the congregation! Mighty monarch, stir your stumps, for court and caravansary Are emptied of inhabitants all crazy with affright; The monster he is longer far than any suit in Chancery, And beats the Court of Aldermen, by chalks, for appetite! The Serpent, when he arrives, introduces himself to the king in an engaging fashion:-- All bones but yours will rattle when I say I am the sea serpent from America. Mayhap you've heard that I've been round the world; I guess I'm round it now, mister, twice curled.... Of all the monsters through the deep that splash, I'm "number one" to all immortal smash. When I lie down, and would my length unroll, There ar'n't half room enough 'twixt pole and pole. In short, I grow so long that I've a notion I must be measured soon for a new ocean. The exaggeration which is so characteristic of American humour is here happily satirised. In another passage, Perseus, addressing himself to Andromeda, sings a neatly turned parody of "We met--'twas in a Crowd":--