[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.]