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.