_Mat._ He strikes a horror through my blood. _Em._ I freeze, as if his impious art had fixed My feet to earth. _Osm._ But love shall thaw ye. I'll show his force in countries caked with ice, Where the pale pole-star in the north of heaven Sits high, and on the frosty winter broods,-- Yet there love reigns: For proof, this magic wand Shall change the mildness of sweet Britain's clime To Iceland, and the farthest Thule's frost, Where the proud god, disdaining winter's bounds, O'erleaps the fences of eternal snow, And with his warmth supplies the distant sun. OSMOND _strikes the Ground with his Wand: The Scene changes to a Prospect of Winter in Frozen Countries_. CUPID _descends_. Cup. } _What ho, thou Genius of the Clime, what ho!_ sings. } _Ly'st thou asleep beneath those hills of snow? Stretch out thy lazy limbs; awake, awake, And winter from thy furry mantle shake._ GENIUS Arises. Genius. _What power art thou, who from below Hast made me rise, unwillingly, and slow, From beds of everlasting snow? See'st thou not how stiff and wond'rous old, Far unfit to bear the bitter cold? I can scarcely move, or draw my breath; Let me, let me, freeze again to death._ Cupid. _Thou doating fool, forbear, forbear; What, dost thou dream of freezing here? At Love's appearing, all the sky clearing, The stormy winds their fury spare: Winter subduing, and spring renewing, My beams create a more glorious year. Thou doating fool, forbear, forbear, What! dost thou dream of freezing here?_ Genius. _Great Love, I know thee now; Eldest of the gods art thou Heaven and earth by thee were made; Human nature Is thy creature, Every where thou art obeyed._ Cupid. _No part of my dominion shall be waste; To spread my sway, and sing my praise, Even here I will a people raise, Of kind embracing lovers, and embraced._ Cupid waves his Wand, upon which the Scene opens, and discovers a prospect of Ice and Snow to the end of the Stage. Singers and Dancers, Men and Women, appear. Man. _See, see, we assemble, Thy revels to hold; Though quiv'ring with cold, We chatter and tremble._ Cupid. _'Tis I, 'tis I, 'tis I, that have warmed ye: In spite of cold weather, I've brought you together: 'Tis I, 'tis I, 'tis I, that have armed ye._ Chor. _'Tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love, that has warmed us; In spite of cold weather He brought us together: 'Tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love, that has armed us._ Cupid. _Sound a parley, ye fair, and surrender; Set yourselves and your lovers at ease; He's a grateful offender Who pleasure dare seize; But the whining pretender Is sure to displease._ II.