Mmm

16. The Prevost.

20. The Nobelman.

A Prevost I; vast revenues

Do I receive, yet scarce can use.

My honours here must leave ere long,

Death leadeth to his Chapter strong.

Thy shield and helm, thy noble line,Thy peacock's plume of rank the sign,Dost thou from parents hence inherit;Where they are gone, must too thy spirit.

17. The Curate.

Great danger hath one ever nigh,As do I now full well descry.The sick I bear the Heavenly Bread,And leave for Death the path I tread.

18. The dying Monk.

21. The Lady.

Of noble branch am I a flower,

Death blow'th me down in this strong tower,

As were I but a withered leaf,

Dust must to dust, this our belief.

22. The Mayor.

Beloved brethren, hasten allThe De Profundis doth ye call,Death's anguish doth opress me sore,My cowl and sleeves are wide no more.

19. The Prioress.

Lady Prioress thy life is o'er.Of Heaven is open wide the door.Draw of thy spotless, veil-prepareWhit me the mouldy grave to share.

Sir Major, thou shalt at once give o'erThy power and might, thine own no more,For every office doth requireThat each one in his turn retire.

23. The Counsellors.

No wisdom helpeth, wit doth failMy grasp to 'scape, nought can avail.No honour, I, nor grace admit.Come quick good sirs, forth is the writ.