Doct. Let not thy female Ignorance profane the highest Mysteries of natural Philosophy: To Fools it seems Inchantment—but I’ve a Sense can reach it—sit and expect the Event.—Hark, I am amaz’d, but must conceal my Wonder, that Joy of Fools—and appear wise in Gravity.

Bell. Whence comes this charming Sound, Sir?

Doct. From the Spheres—it is familiar to me.

[The Scene in the Front draws off, and shews the Hill of Parnassus; a noble large Walk of Trees leading to it, with eight or ten Negroes upon Pedestals, ranged on each side of the Walks. Next Keplair and Galileus _descend on each side, opposite to each other, in Chariots, with Perspectives in their Hands, as viewing the Machine of the Zodiack. Soft Musick plays still.

Doct. Methought I saw the Figure of two Men descend from yonder Cloud on yonder Hill.

Ela. I thought so too, but they are disappear’d, and the wing’d Chariot’s fled.

Enter Keplair and Galileus.

Bell. See, Sir, they approach.

[The Doctor rises and bows.

Kep. Most reverend Sir, we, from the upper World, thus low salute you—Keplair and Galileus we are call’d, sent as Interpreters to Great Iredonozor, the Emperor of the Moon, who is descending.

Doct. Most reverend Bards—profound Philosophers—thus low I bow to pay my humble Gratitude.

Kep. The Emperor, Sir, salutes you, and your fair Daughter.

Gal. And, Sir, the Prince of Thunderland salutes you, and your fair Neice.

Doct. Thus low I fall to thank their Royal Goodness.

[Kneels. They take him up.

Bell. Came you, most reverend Bards, from the Moon World?

Kep. Most lovely Maid, we did.

Doct. May I presume to ask the manner how?

Kep. By Cloud, Sir, through the Regions of the Air, down to the fam’d Parnassus; thence by Water, along the River Helicon, the rest by Post upon two wing’d Eagles.

Doct. Sir, are there store of our World inhabiting the Moon?

Kep. Oh, of all Nations, Sir, that lie beneath it in the Emperor’s Train! Sir, you will behold abundance; look up and see the Orbal World descending; observe the Zodiack, Sir, with her twelve Signs.

[Next the Zodiack descends, a Symphony playing all the while; when it is landed, it delivers the twelve Signs: Then the Song, the Persons of the Zodiack being the Singers. After which, the Negroes dance and mingle in the Chorus.

A Song for the Zodiack.

Let murmuring Lovers no longer repine, But their Hearts and their Voices advance; Let the Nymphs and the Swains in the kind Chorus join, And the Satyrs and Fauns in a Dance. Let Nature put on her Beauty of May, And the Fields and the Meadows adorn; Let the Woods and the Mountains resound with the Joy, And the Echoes their Triumph return.

Chorus.

_For since Love wore his Darts, And Virgins grew Coy; Since these wounded Hearts, And those cou’d destroy, There ne’er was more Cause for your Triumphs and Joy.

Hark, hark, the Musick of the Spheres, Some Wonder approaching declares; Such, such, as has not bless’d your Eyes and Ears This thousand, thousand, thousand Years. See, see what the Force of Love can make, Who rules in Heaven, in Earth and Sea; Behold how he commands the Zodiack, While the fixt Signs unhinging all obey. Not one of which, but represents The Attributes of Love, Who governs all the Elements In Harmony above_.

Chorus.

_For since Love wore his Darts And Virgins grew coy; Since these wounded Hearts, And those cou’d destroy, There ne’er was more Cause for your Triumphs and Joy.

The wanton Aries first descends, To show the Vigor and the Play, Beginning Love, beginning Love attends, When the young Passion is all-over Joy, He bleats his soft Pain to the fair curled Throng, And he leaps, and he bounds, and loves all the day long. At once Love’s Courage and his Slavery In_ Taurus is expressed, Though o’er the Plains the Conqueror be, The generous Beast Does to the Yoke submit his noble Breast; While Gemini smiling and twining of Arms, Shews Love’s soft Indearments and Charms; And Cancer’s slow Motion the degrees do express, Respectful Love arrives to Happiness. Leo his strength and Majesty, Virgo her blushing Modesty, And Libra all his Equity. His Subtilty does Scorpio show, And Sagittarius all his loose desire, By Capricorn his forward Humour know, And Aqua, Lovers Tears that raise his Fire, While Pisces, which intwin’d do move, Shew the soft Play, and wanton Arts of Love.

Chorus.

For since Love wore his Darts, And Virgins grew coy; Since these wounded Hearts, And those you’d destroy, There ne’er was more Cause for Triumphs and Joy.

—See how she turns, and sends her Signs to Earth.—Behold the Ram, Aries—see Taurus next descends; then Gemini—see how the Boys embrace.—Next Cancer, then Leo, then the Virgin; next to her Libra—Scorpio, Sagittary, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces. This eight thousand Years no Emperor has descended, but Incognito; but when he does, to make his Journey more magnificent, the Zodiack, Sir, attends him.

Doct. ‘Tis all amazing, Sir.

Kep. Now, Sir, behold the Globick World descends two thousand Leagues below its wonted Station, to shew Obedience to its proper Monarch.

[After which, the Globe of the Moon appears, first like a new Moon, as it moves forward it increases till it comes to the Full. When it is descended, it opens and shews the Emperor and the Prince. They come forth with all their Train, the Flutes playing a Symphony before them, which prepares the Song. Which ended the Dancers mingle as before.

A SONG.

All Joy to Mortals, Joy and Mirth, Eternal IO’S sing; The Gods of Love descend to Earth, Their Darts have lost the Sting. The Youth shall now complain no more Of Sylvia’s _needless Scorn, But she shall love, if he adore, And melt when he shall burn.

The Nymph no longer shall be shy, But leave the jilting Road; And_ Daphne _now no more shall fly The wounded panting God; But all shall be serene and fair, No sad Complaints of Love Shall fill the gentle whispering Air, No echoing Sighs the Grove.

Beneath the Shades young_ Strephon lies, Of all his Wish possess’d; Gazing on Sylvia’s charming Eyes, Whose Soul is there confessed. All soft and sweet the Maid appears, With Looks that know no Art, And though she yields with trembling Fears, She yields with all her Heart.

—See, Sir, the Cloud of Foreigners appears, French, English, Spaniards, Danes, Turks, Russians, Indians, and the nearer Climes of Christendom; and lastly, Sir, behold the mighty Emperor.—

[A Chariot appears, made like a Half Moon, in which is Cinthio for the Emperor, richly dressed, and Charmante for the Prince, rich, with a good many Heroes attending. Cinthio’s Train born by four Cupids. The Song continues while they descend and land. They address themselves to Elaria and Bellemante.—Doctor falls on his Face, the rest bow very low as they pass. They make signs to Keplair.

Kep. The Emperor wou’d have you rise, Sir, he will expect no Ceremony from the Father of his Mistress. [Takes him up.

Doct. I cannot, Sir, behold his Mightiness—the Splendor of his Majesty confounds me.

Kep. You must be moderate, Sir, it is expected.

[The two Lovers make all the Signs of Love in dumb show to the Ladies, while the soft Musick plays again from the end of the Song.

Doct. Shall I not have the Joy to hear their heavenly Voices, Sir?

Kep. They never speak to any Subject, Sir, when they appear in Royalty, but by Interpreters, and that by way of Stentraphon, in manner of the Delphick Oracles.

Doct. Any way, so I may hear the Sense of what they wou’d say.

Kep. No doubt you will—But see the Emperor commands by Signs his Foreigners to dance.

[Soft Musick changes.

[A very Antick Dance. The Dance ended, the Front Scene draws off, and shows a Temple, with an Altar, one speaking through a Stentraphon from behind it. Soft Musick plays the while.

Kep. Most Learned Sir, the Emperor now is going to declare himself, according to his Custom, to his Subjects. Listen.—

Sten. Most Reverend Sir, whose Virtue did incite us, Whose Daughter’s Charms did more invite us; We come to grace her with that Honour, That never Mortal yet had done her; Once only, Jove was known in Story, To visit Semele in Glory. But fatal ‘twas, he so enjoy’d her, Her own ambitious Flame destroy’d her. His Charms too fierce for Flesh and Blood, She dy’d embracing of her God, We gentler marks of Passion give, The Maid we love, shall love and live; Whom visibly we thus will grace, Above the rest of human Race, Say, is’t your Will that we shou’d wed her, And nightly in Disguises bed her?

Doct. The Glory is too great for Mortal Wife. [Kneels with Transport.

Sten. What then remains, but that we consummate This happy Marriage in our splendid State?

Doct. Thus low I kneel, in thanks for this great Blessing.

[Cinthio takes Elaria by the Hand; Charmante, Bellemante; two of the Singers in white being Priests, they lead ‘em to the Altar, the whole Company dividing on either side. Where, while a Hymeneal Song is sung, the Priest joins their Hands: The Song ended, and they marry’d, they come forth; but before they come forward, two Chariots descend one on one side above, and the other on the other side; in which is Harlequin dress’d like a Mock Hero, with others; and Scaramouch in the other, dress’d so in Helmets.

Scar. Stay, mighty Emperor, and vouchsafe to be the Umpire of our Difference. [Cinthio signs to Keplair.

Kep. What are you?

Scar. Two neighbouring Princes to your vast Dominion.

Har. Knights of the Sun, our honourable Titles, And fight for that fair Mortal, Mopsophil.

Mop. Bless us!—my two precious Lovers, I’ll warrant; well, I had better take up with one of them, than lie alone to Night.

Scar. Long as two Rivals we have lov’d and hop’d, Both equally endeavour’d, and both fail’d. At last by joint Consent, we both agreed To try our Titles by the Dint of Lance, And chose your Mightiness for Arbitrator.

Kep. The Emperor gives Consent.

[They both all arm’d—with gilded Lances and Shields of Black, with golden Suns painted. The Musick plays a fighting Tune. They fight at Barriers, to the Tune.—Harlequin is often foil’d, but advances still; at last Scaramouch throws him, and is Conqueror; all give Judgment for him.

Kep. The Emperor pronounces you are Victor.— [To Scar.

Doct. Receive your Mistress, Sir, as the Reward of your undoubted Valour— [Presents Mopsophil.

Scar. Your humble Servant, Sir, and Scaramouch returns you humble Thanks. [Puts off his Helmet.

Doct. Ha,—Scaramouch! [Bawls out, and falls in a Chair. They all go to him. My Heart misgives me—Oh, I am undone and cheated every way. [Bawling out.

Kep. Be patient, Sir, and call up all your Virtue, You’re only cur’d, Sir, of a Disease That long has reign’d over your nobler Faculties. Sir, I am your Physician, Friend and Counsellor; It was not in the Power of Herbs or Minerals, Of Reason, common Sense, and right Religion, To draw you from an Error that unmann’d you.

Doct. I will be patient, Gentlemen, and hear you. —Are not you Ferdinand?

Kep. I am,—and these are Gentlemen of Quality, That long have lov’d your Daughter and your Niece; Don Cinthio this, and this is Don Charmante, The Vice-Roy’s Nephews both. Who found as Men—’twas impossible to enjoy ‘em, And therefore try’d this Stratagem.

Cin. Sir, I beseech you, mitigate your Grief, Although indeed we are but mortal Men, Yet we shall love you, serve you, and obey you.

Doct. Are not you then the Emperor of the Moon? And you the Prince of Thunderland?

Cin. There’s no such Person, Sir. These Stories are the Fantoms of mad Brains, To puzzle Fools withal—the Wise laugh at ‘em— Come, Sir, you shall no longer be impos’d upon.

Doct. No Emperor of the Moon, and no Moon World!

Char. Ridiculous Inventions. If we ‘ad not lov’d you you’ad been still impos’d on; You had brought a Scandal on your learned Name, And all succeeding Ages had despis’d it.

[Doct. leaps up.

Doct. Burn all my Books and let my study blaze, Burn all to Ashes, and be sure the Wind Scatter the vile contagious monstrous Lyes. —Most Noble Youths—you’ve honour’d me with your Alliance, and you, and all your Friends, Assistances in this glorious Miracle, I invite to Night to revel with me.—Come all and see my happy Recantation of all the Follies, Fables have inspir’d till now. Be pleasant to repeat your Story, to tell me by what kind degrees you cozen’d me. I see there’s nothing in Philosophy— [Gravely to himself. Of all that writ, he was the wisest Bard, who spoke this mighty Truth—

“He that knew all that ever Learning writ, Knew only this—that he knew nothing yet.”

[Exeunt.

EPILOGUE,

To be spoken by Mrs. Cooke.

With our old Plays, as with dull Wife it fares, To whom you have been marry’d tedious Years. You cry—She’s wondrous good, it is confessed, | But still ‘tis Chapon Boüillé _at the best; | That constant Dish can never make a Feast: | Yet the pall’d Pleasure you must still pursue, You give so small Incouragement for new; And who would drudge for such a wretched Age, Who want the Bravery to support one Stage? The wiser Wits have now new Measures set, And taken up new Trades that they may hate. No more your nice fantastick Pleasures serve, Your Pimps you pay, but let your Poets starve, They long in vain for better Usage hop’d, Till quite undone and tir’d, they dropt and dropt; Not one is left will write for thin third Day, Like desperate Pickeroons, no Prize no Pay; And when they have done their best, the Recompence Is, Damn the Sot, his Play wants common Sense, Ill-natured Wits, who can so ill requite The drudging Slaves, who for your Pleasure write.

Look back on flourishing_ Rome, ye proud Ingrates, And see how she her thriving Poets treats: Wisely she priz’d ‘em at the noblest Rate, | As necessary Ministers of State, | And Contributions rais’d to make ‘em great. | They from the publick Bank she did maintain, And freed from want, they only writ for Fame; And were as useful in a City held, As formidable Armies in the Field. They but a Conquest over Men pursued, While these by gentle force the Soul subdu’d. Not Rome in all her happiest Pomp cou’d show | A greater Caesar than we boast of now; | Augustus _reigns, but Poets still are low. |

May Caesar live, and while his mighty Hand Is scattering Plenty over all the Land; With God-like Bounty recompensing all, Some fruitful drops may on the Muses fall; Since honest Pens do his just cause afford Equal Advantage with the useful Sword_.