Funeral Sequence lyrics
Funeral Sequence
PSEUDOLUS
Gather around, handmaidens of sorrow.
MILES
Sound the flute,
Blow the horn,
Pluck the lute,
Forward mourn!
All Crete was at her feet,
All Thrace was in her thrall,
All Sparta loved her sweetness
And gaul . . .
PSEUDOLUS
And Spain . . .
MILES
And Greece . . .
PSEUDOLUS
And Egypt . . .
MILES
And Syria . . .
PSEUDOLUS
And Mesopotamia . . .
MOURNERS
All Crete was at her feet,
All Thrace was in her thrall,
Oh, why should such a blossom fall?
MILES
Speak the spells,
Chant the charms,
Toll the bells -
PSEUDOLUS
Fold the arms!
Sir, on behalf of the body, I want to thank you for a lovely funeral.
I don't know about you, but I've suffered enough. If you will just give me
the contract, I shall take the body and then . . .
MILES
Strew the soil,
Strum the lyre,
Spread the oil,
Build the pyre!
PSEUDOLUS
Whoa! A pyre? What kind of pyre?
MILES
A pyre of fire.
PSEUDOLUS
Oh, a fire pyre.
MILES
She must be burned!
PSEUDOLUS
Burned? Sir!
MILES
I want her ashes!
PSEUDOLUS
Captain, I implore you: It is not for us to destroy such loveliness.
The gods are aeaiting her. They would not be happy if we sent up a charred virgin.
MILES
I cannot afford to offend the gods.
PSEUDOLUS
Who can?
All Crete was at her feet,
But I shall weep no more,
I'll find my consolation as before,
Among the simple pleasures of war!
Last Update: June, 10th 2013