[Music
Herm. Then, in a free and lofty strain.
Our broken tunes we thus repair;
Cris. And we answer them again,
Running division on the panting air;
Ambo. To celebrate this, feast of sense,
As free from scandal as offence.
Herm. Here is beauty for the eye,
Cris. For the ear sweet melody.
Herm. Ambrosiac odours, for the smell,
Cris. Delicious nectar, for the taste;
Ambo. For the touch, a lady's waist;
Which doth all the rest excel.

Ovid. Ay, this has waked us. Mercury, our herald; go from
ourself, the great god Jupiter, to the great emperor Augustus
Caesar, and command him from us, of whose bounty he hath
received the sirname of Augustus, that, for a thank-offering
to our beneficence, he presently sacrifice, as a dish to this
banquet, his beautiful and wanton daughter Julia: she's a
curst quean, tell him, and plays the scold behind his back;
therefore let her be sacrificed. Command him this, Mercury,
in our high name of Jupiter Altitonans.

Jul. Stay, feather-footed Mercury, and tell Augustus, from us, the
great Juno Saturnia; if he think it hard to do as Jupiter hath
commanded him, and sacrifice his daughter, that he had better do
so ten times, than suffer her to love the well-nosed poet, Ovid;
whom he shall do well to whip or cause to be whipped, about the
capitol, for soothing her in her follies.
[ Enter AUGUSTUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, HORACE, LUPUS,
HISTRIO, MINUS, and Lictors.
Caes.
What sight is this? Mecaenas! Horace! say?
Have we our senses? do we hear and see?
Or are these but imaginary objects
Drawn by our phantasy! Why speak you not?
Let us do sacrifice. Are they the gods?
[Ovid and the rest kneel.
Reverence, amaze, and fury fight in me.
What, do they kneel! Nay, then I see 'tis true
I thought impossible: O, impious sight!
Let me divert mine eyes; the very thought
Everts my soul with passion: Look not, man,
There is a panther, whose unnatural eyes
Will strike thee dead: turn, then, and die on her
With her own deat