Song
[Music. Enter the Queens with the hearses of their
knights, in a funeral solemnity, &c.]
The dirge.
Urns and odors bring away;
Vapors, sighs, darken the day;
Our dole more deadly looks than dying;
Balms and gums and heavy cheers,
Sacred vials filled with tears,
And clamors 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
[to Second Queen]
This funeral path brings to your household's grave.
Joy seize on you again; peace sleep with him.