_Har_. What did me I, Sir (Life being sweet) but fall on my Knees, and besought his Gloriousness not to eat me, for I was no Fish, but a Man; he ask'd me of what Country, I told him of _Naples_; whereupon the Emperor overjoy'd ask'd me if I knew that most reverend and learned Doctor _Baliardo_, and his fair Daughter. I told him I did: whereupon he made me his Bed-fellow, and the Confident to his Amour to Seigniora _Elaria_.
_Doct_. Bless me, Sir! how came the Emperor to know my Daughter?
_Har_. There he is again with his damn'd hard Questions.
--Know her, Sir,--Why--you were walking abroad one day.
_Doct_. My Daughter never goes abroad, Sir, farther than our Garden.
_Har_. Ay, there it was indeed, Sir,--and as his Highness was taking a Survey of this lower World--through a long Perspective, Sir,--he saw you and your Daughter and Neice, and from that very moment fell most desperately in love.--But hark, the sound of Timbrels, Kettle-Drums and Trumpets.--The Emperor, Sir, is on his way, prepare for his Reception.
[_A strange Noise is heard of Brass Kettles, and Pans, and Bells, and many tinkling things_.
_Doct_. I'm in a Rapture--How shall I pay my Gratitude for this great Negotiation?--but as I may, I humbly offer, Sir.
[_Presents him with a rich Ring and a Purse of Gold_.
_Har_. Sir, as an Honour done the Emperor, I take your Ring and Gold. I must go meet his Highness.
[_Takes leave_.
_Enter to him_ Scaramouch, _as himself_.
_Scar_. Oh, Sir! we are astonish'd with the dreadful sound of the sweetest Musick that ever Mortal heard, but know not whence it comes.
Have you not heard it, Sir?
_Doct_. Heard it, yes, Fool,--'tis the Musick of the Spheres, the Emperor of the Moon World is descending.
_Scar_. How, Sir, no marvel then, that looking towards the South, I saw such splendid Glories in the Air.
_Doct_. Ha, saw'st thou ought descending in the Air?
_Scar_. Oh, yes, Sir, Wonders! haste to the old Gallery, whence, with the help of your Telescope, you may discover all.
_Doct_. I would not lose a moment for the lower Universe.
_Enter_ Elaria, Bellemante, Mopsophil, _dressed in rich Antick Habits_.
_Ela_. Sir, we are dress'd as you commanded us, what is your farther Pleasure?
_Doct_. It well becomes the Honour you're design'd for, this Night to wed two Princes--come with me and know your happy Fate.
[_Ex_. Doctor _and_ Scar.
_Ela_. Bless me! My Father, in all the rest of his Discourse shows so much Sense and Reason, I cannot think him mad, but feigns all this to try us.
_Bell_. Not mad! Marry, Heavens forbid, thou art always creating Fears to startle one; why, if he be not mad, his want of Sleep this eight and forty hours, the Noise of strange unheard of Instruments, with the fantastick Splendour of the unusual Sight, will so turn his Brain and dazzle him, that in Grace and Goodness, he may be mad, if he be not;-- come, let's after him to the Gallery, for I long to see in what showing Equipage our princely Lovers will address to us.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE III. _The Last. The Gallery richly adorn'd with Scenes and Lights_.
_Enter_ Doctor, Elaria, Bellemante, _and_ Mopsophil.
_Soft Musick is heard_.
_Bell_. Ha--Heavens! what's here? what Palace is this?--No part of our House, I'm sure.
_Ela_. 'Tis rather the Apartment of some Monarch.
_Doct_. I'm all amazement too; but must not show my Ignorance.
--Yes, _Elaria_, this is prepar'd to entertain two Princes.
_Bell_. Are you sure on't, Sir? are we not, think you, in that World above, I often heard you speak of? in the Moon, Sir?
_Doct_. How shall I resolve her--For ought I know, we are. [_Aside_.
_Ela_. Sure, Sir, 'tis some Inchantment.
_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_.