Enter MOMUS, laughing.

  Momus.  Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! well hast thou done
      To lay down thy pack,
      And lighten thy back. 
    The world was a fool, ere since it begun,
    And since neither Janus nor Chronos, nor I,
      Can hinder the crimes,
      Or mend the bad times,
    ’Tis better to laugh than to cry. 20

  Chorus of all three.  ’Tis better to laugh than to cry.

  Janus.  Since Momus comes to laugh below,
      Old time begin the show,
  That he may see, in every scene,
  What changes in this age have been.

  Chronos.  Then goddess of the silver bow begin.

      [Horns, or hunting-music within.]

      Enter DIANA.

Diana.  With horns and with hounds, I waken the day, And hie to the woodland walks away; I tuck up my robe, and am buskin’d soon, And tie to my forehead a waxing moon; 30 I course the fleet stag, unkennel the fox, And chase the wild goats o’er summits of rocks; With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky, And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.

  Chorus of all.  With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky,
  And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.

  Janus.  Then our age was in its prime: 

  Chronos.  Free from rage: 

  Diana.—­And free from crime.

  Momus.  A very merry, dancing, drinking, 40
  Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.

Chorus of all.  Then our age was in its prime, Free from rage, and free from crime, A very merry, dancing, drinking, Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.

  [Dance of Diana’s attendants.]

  Enter MARS.

  Mars.  Inspire the vocal brass, inspire;
  The world is past its infant age: 
    Arms and honour,
    Arms and honour,
  Set the martial mind on fire, 50
  And kindle manly rage. 
  Mars has look’d the sky to red;
  And Peace, the lazy god, is fled. 
  Plenty, peace, and pleasure fly;
    The sprightly green,
  In woodland walks, no more is seen;
  The sprightly green has drunk the Tyrian dye.

  Chorus of all. Plenty, peace, &c.

Mars. Sound the trumpet, beat the drum; Through all the world around, 60 Sound a reveillie, sound, sound, The warrior god is come.

  Chorus of all. Sound the trumpet, &c.

  Momus. Thy sword within the scabbard keep,
    And let mankind agree;
  Better the world were fast asleep,
  Than kept awake by thee. 
  The fools are only thinner,
    With all our cost and care: