His word,
Though absurd,
Must be law.
Even Fate,
Though so great,
Must not prate;
His bald pate
Jove would cuff,
He's so bluff,

For a straw.

Cow'd deities,
Like mice in cheese,

To stir must cease

Or gnaw.

Jup. [Rising.] Immortals, you have heard your plaintiff sovereign,

And culprit Sol's high crimes. Shall we, who

govern,

Brook spies upon us? Shall Appollo trample
On our commands? We'll make him an exam-
ple!

As for you, Juno, curb your prying temper, or
We'll make you, to your cost, know-we're your

emperor.

Juno. I'll take the law. [To JUP.] My proctor, with a summons,

Shall cite you, sir, t' appear at Doctor's Com

mons.

Jup. Let him-but first I'll chase from heaven yon varlet!

Juno. What, for detecting you and your

harlot!

AIR.

Think not, lewd Jove,

Thus to wrong my chaste love;

vile

For spite of your rakehelly godhead,

By day and by night,

Juno will have her right,

Nor be of dues nuptial defrauded.

What worse can Bacchus teach men,
His roaring bucks, when drunk,
Than break the lamps, beat watchmen,
And stagger to some punk?

Jup. You saucy scoundrel!—there, sir-Come,
Disorder!

Down, Phoebus, down to earth, we'll hear no far

ther.

Roll, thunders, roll! blue lightnings flash about

him,

The blab shall find our sky can do without him.

[Thunder and lightning. JUPITER darts a bolt at him, he falls-JUPITER re-assumes his throne, and the Gods all ascend together, singing the initial Chorus.

Jove, in his chair, &c.

SCENE II.-A champaign Country, with a distant Village; violent Storm of Thunder and Lightning. A Shepherd, sleeping in the Field, is roused by it, and runs away frightened, leaving his Cloak, Hat, and Guitar, behind him. APOLLO, as cast from Heaven, falls to the Earth, with a rude shock, and lies for a while stunned; at length he begins to move, rises, advances, and looking forward, speaks; after which, enters to him SILENO.

Apollo. Zooks! what a crush! a pretty decent tumble!

Kind usage, Mr. Jove-sweet sir, your humble.
Well, down I am ;-no bones broke, though sore
pepper'd-

Here doom'd to stay.-What can I do? turn
shepherd― [Puts on the Cloak, &c.
A lucky thought!-In this disguise, Apollo
No more,
but Pol the swain, some flock I'll fol
low,

Nor doubt I, with my voice, guitar, and person,
Among the nymphs to kick up some diversion.
Sil. Whom have we here? a sightly clown!
-and sturdy;

I'll ferrit the haunts
Of your female gallants ;
In vain you
in durkness enclose them; Hum! plays, I see, upon the hurdy-gurdy.
Your favourite jades,
Seems out of place-a stranger--all in tatters;
I'll plunge to the shades,
I'll hire him he'll divert my wife and daugh

Or into cows metamorphose them.

Jup. Peace, termagant!-I swear by Styx, our
thunder

Shall hurl him to the earth-Nay, never wonder,
I've sworn it, gods.

Apollo. Hold, hold! have patience,
Papa-No bowels for your own relations ?

AIR.

e oy your friends advised,
Too harsh, too hasty dad!
Maugre your bolts, and wise head,
The world will think you mad.

O'

How the world wags: so he gets drink and vittle. To fling poor Pan, but I'll soon send him scam-Hoa, master Pan !—Gad, you've trod on a thistle! pering. You may pack up your all, sir, and go whistle.

The

T

The wenches have turned tail-to yon buck | Mum-snug's the word-I'll lead her such a