ÆOLUS ascends, and the four Winds fly off. The SCENE opens, and discovers a calm Sea, to the end of the House. An Island arises, to a soft Tune; BRITANNIA, seated in the Island, with Fishermen at her Feet, &c. The Tune changes, the Fishermen come ashore, and dance a while; after which, PAN and a NEREID come on the Stage, and sing. PAN and NEREID sing. _Round thy coasts, fair nymph of Britain, For thy guard our waters flow: Proteus all his herds admitting, On thy greens to graze below. Foreign lands thy fishes tasting, Learn from thee luxurious fasting._ Song of three parts. _For folded flocks, on fruitful plains, The shepherd's and the farmer's gains, Fair Britain all the world outvies; And Pan, as in Arcadia, reigns, Where pleasure mixt with profit lies._ _Though Jason's fleece was famed of old, The British wool is growing gold; No mines can more of wealth supply; It keeps the peasant from the cold, And takes for kings the Tyrian dye._ [The last Stanza sung over again betwixt PAN and the Nereid. After which, the former dance is varied, and goes on. Enter COMUS, with three Peasants, who sing the following Song in Parts. Com. _Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reaped; Your barns will be full, and your hovels heaped; Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out harvest home; Harvest home, Harvest home; And merrily roar out harvest home._ Chor. _Come, my boys, come, &c._ 1 Man. _We ha' cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again. For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten? One in ten, One in ten; For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?_ 2 Man. _For prating so long like a book-learned sot, Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot, Burn to pot, Burn to pot; Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot._ Chor. _Burn to pot, &c._ 3 Man. _We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand, And hoigh for the honour of old England: Old England, Old England; And hoigh for the honour of old England._ Chor. _Old England, &c._ [The Dance varied into a round Country-dance. _Enter_ VENUS. Venus. _Fairest isle, all isles excelling, Seat of pleasures and of loves; Venus here will chuse her dwelling, And forsake her Cyprian groves._ _Cupid from his favourite nation Care and envy will remove; Jealousy, that poisons passion, And despair, that dies for love._ _Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining, Sighs, that blow the fire of love; Soft repulses, kind disdaining, Shall be all the pains you prove._ _Every swain shall pay his duty, Grateful every nymph shall prove; And as these excel in beauty, Those shall be renowned for love._ SONG BY MR HOWE.