_Full Chorus._ Hail, royal Albion, Hail! _Aug._ Hail, royal Albion, hail to thee, Thy longing people's expectation! _Tham._ Sent from the gods to set us free From bondage and from usurpation! _Aug._ To pardon and to pity me, And to forgive a guilty nation! _Tham._ Behold the differing Climes agree, Rejoicing in thy restoration. Entry. _Representing the Four Parts of the World, rejoicing at the Restoration of_ ALBION. ACT II. _The Scene is a Poetical Hell. The Change is total; The Upper Part of the House, as well as the Side-Scenes. There is the Figure of_ PROMETHEUS _chained to a Rock, the Vulture gnawing his Liver;_ SISYPHUS _rolling the Stone; the_ BELIDES, _&c. Beyond, Abundance of Figures in various Torments. Then a great Arch of Fire. Behind this, three Pyramids of Flames in perpetual Agitation. Beyond this, glowing Fire, which terminates the Prospect._ PLUTO, _and the_ FURIES; _with_ ALECTO, DEMOCRACY, _and_ ZELOTA. _Plu._ Infernal offspring of the night, Debarred of heaven your native right, And from the glorious fields of light, Condemned in shades to drag the chain, And fill with groans the gloomy plain; Since, pleasures here are none below, Be ill our good, our joy be woe; Our work to embroil the worlds above, Disturb their union, disunite their love, And blast the beauteous frame of our victorious foe. _Dem._ and _Zel._ O thou, for whom those worlds are made, Thou sire of all things, and their end, From hence they spring, and when they fade, In shuffled heaps they hither tend; Here human souls receive their breath, And wait for bodies after death. _Dem._ Hear our complaint, and grant our prayer. _Plu._ Speak what you are, And whence you fell? _Dem._ I am thy first-begotten care, Conceived in heaven, but born in hell. When thou didst bravely undertake in fight Yon arbitrary power, That rules by sovereign might, To set thy heaven-born fellows free, And leave no difference in degree, In that auspicious hour Was I begot by thee. _Zel._ One mother bore us at a birth, Her name was Zeal before she fell; No fairer nymph in heaven or earth, 'Till saintship taught her to rebel: But losing fame, And changing name, She's now the Good Old Cause in hell. _Plu._ Dear pledges of a flame not yet forgot, Say, what on earth has been your lot? _Dem._ and _Zel._ The wealth of Albion's isle was ours, Augusta stooped with all her stately towers. _Dem._ Democracy kept nobles under. _Zel._ Zeal from the pulpit roared like thunder. _Dem._ I trampled on the state. _Zel._ I lorded o'er the gown. _Dem._ and _Zel._ We both in triumph sate, Usurpers of the crown. But oh, prodigious turn of fate! Heaven controuling, Sent us rolling, rolling down.