In which our two right kings sit one by one,
With virgins' vests, and laurel garlands on.
K. Ush. Then, brother Phys., 'tis time we should be gone.
[The two Usurpers steal out of the throne, and go away.
Bayes. Look you now, did not I tell you, that this would be as easy a change as the other?
Smith. Yes, faith, you did so; tho' I confess I could not believe you: but you have brought it about, I see.
[The two right kings of Brentford descend in the clouds, singing, in white garments; and three fiddlers sitting before them, in green.
Bayes. Now, because the two right kings descend from above,
I make 'em sing to the tune and style of our modern spirits.
1st King. Haste, brother king, we are sent from above.