“be henceforth never heightened
With taste of sustenance,”
and falls fainting into her attendant’s arms. The subsequent account of her death[90:2] is the more pathetic by reason of its brevity:
Philema. “She called for music,
And begged some gentle voice to tune a farewell
To life and griefs; Christalla touched the lute;
I wept the funeral song.
Christalla. Which scarce was ended
But her last breath sealed up these hollow sounds,
‘O cruel Ithocles and injured Orgilus’