So the King died?
Pashur.
The Queen knows everything.
He did not die at once, but bled to death,
Down in the shadow of the willow trees.
His blood dripped from his chariot; the dogs licked it,
Even as the Teshbon prophet did foretell.
Rose-Flower.
Let us mourn for the King, for the cedar fallen,
For the eagle fallen from heaven, for the burnt-out fire.
Moon-Blossom.
For the light that shone and is dark, for the word spoken.
For the strength unknit, for the crown brought to the mire.
Jezebel.
My King is dead! I knew that he was dead.
Have you declared this news to any yet?
Pashur.