Music. Enter the Queens with the hearses of their knights, in a funeral solemnity, &c.
SONG.
Urns and odours bring away; Vapours, sighs, darken the day; Our dole more deadly looks than dying; Balms and gums and heavy cheers, Sacred vials filled with tears, And clamours through the wild air flying.
Come, all sad and solemn shows That are quick-eyed Pleasure’s foes; We convent naught else but woes. We convent naught else but woes.
THIRD QUEEN. This funeral path brings to your household’s grave. Joy seize on you again; peace sleep with him.
SECOND QUEEN. And this to yours.
FIRST QUEEN. Yours this way. Heavens lend A thousand differing ways to one sure end.
THIRD QUEEN. This world’s a city full of straying streets, And death’s the market-place where each one meets.
[ Exeunt severally. ]