Tethys. _To treat you, blest lovers, as you sail on the deep, The Tritons and sea-nymphs their revels shall keep._ Both. { _On the swift dolphins' backs they shall sing and shall play;_ { _They shall guard you by night, and delight you by day._ Chorus of all. { _On the swift, &c._ { _And shall guard, &c._ [Here the Dancers mingle with the Singers. [A dance of twelve Tritons. _Mir._ What charming things are these? _Dor._ What heavenly power is this? _Prosp._ Now, my Ariel, be visible, And let the rest of your aërial train Appear, and entertain them with a song, And then farewell, my long-loved Ariel. SCENE III.--_Changes to the Rising Sun, and a number of Aërial Spirits in the Air_; ARIEL _flying from the Sun, advances towards the Pit_. _Alon._ Heaven! What are these we see? _Prosp._ They are spirits, with which the air abounds In swarms, but that they are not subject To poor feeble mortal eyes. _Anto._ O wondrous skill! _Gonz._ O power divine! ARIEL, _and the rest, sing the following Song._ _Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bed I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the swallow's wings I fly, After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough._ _Song ended_, ARIEL _speaks, hovering in the air_. _Ariel._ My noble master! May theirs and your blest joys never impair! And for the freedom I enjoy in air. I will be still your Ariel, and wait On airy accidents that work for fate. Whatever shall your happiness concern, From your still faithful Ariel you shall learn. _Prosp._ Thou hast been always diligent and kind. Farewell, my long-loved Ariel! thou shalt find I will preserve thee ever in my mind. Henceforth this isle to the afflicted be A place of refuge, as it was to me: The promises of blooming spring live here, And all the blessings of the ripening year. On my retreat let heaven and nature smile, And ever flourish the Enchanted Isle. [_Exeunt._ EPILOGUE. Gallants, by all good signs it does appear, That sixty-seven's a very damning year, For knaves abroad, and for ill poets here. Among the muses there's a general rot, The rhiming monsieur, and the Spanish plot: Defy or court, all's one, they go to pot. The ghosts of poets walk within this place, And haunt us actors wheresoe'er we pass, In visions bloodier than King Richard's was. For this poor wretch, he has not much to say, But quietly brings in his part o'th' play, And begs the favour to be damned to-day, He sends me only like a sheriff's man here, To let you know the malefactor's near, And that he means to die, _en cavalier_.