[5481]But kings in this yet privileg'd may be,
I'll be a monk so I may live with thee.
Quincia obiit, sed non Quincia sola obiit,
Quincia obiit, sed cum Quincia et ipse obii;
Risus obit, obit gratia, lusus obit.
Nec mea nunc anima in pectore, at in tumulo est.
Quincia my dear is dead, but not alone,
For I am dead, and with her I am gone:
Sweet smiles, mirth, graces, all with her do rest,
And my soul too, for 'tis not in my breast.