Albion and Albanius an opera ... / written by Mr. Dryden.

Whilst a Simphony is playing; a very large, and a very glorious Machine descends: The figure of it Oval, all the Clouds shi∣ning with Gold, abundance of Angels and Cherubins flying a∣bout 'em, and playing in 'em; in the midst of it sits Apollo on a Throne of Gold: he comes from the Machine to Albion.

Phoeb.

From Iove's Imperial Court, Where all the Gods resort; In awful Council met, Surprizing news I bear: Albion the Great, Must change his Seat, For Hee's adopted there.

Ven.

What Stars above shall we displace? Where shall he fill a Room Divine?

Nept.

Descended from the Sea Gods Race, Let him by my Orion shine.

Phoeb.

No, Not by that tempestuous sign: Betwixt the Balance and the Maid, The Just, August, And peaceful shade, Shall shine in Heav'n with Beams display'd, While great Albanius is on Earth obey'd:

Ven.

Albanius Lord of Land and Main, Shall with fraternal vertues Reign;

And add his own, To fill the Throne; Ador'd and fear'd, and lov'd no less: In VVar Victorious, mild in Peace, The joy of men, and Iove's increase.

Acacia.

O Thou! Who mount'st th' AEthereal Throne, Be kind and happy to thy own; Now Albion is come, The People of the Sky, Run gazing and Cry, Make Room, make Room, Make room for our new Deity.

Here Albion mounts the Machine, which moves up∣ward slowly.

A full Chorus of all that Acacia sung.

Ven.

Behold what Triumphs are prepar'd to grace Thy glorious Race, Where Love and Honour claim an equal place; Already are they fixt by Fate, And only ripening Ages wait.