Distaf. Ah, wretched maid! Oh, miserable fate!
I've just arrived in time to be too late;
What now shall hapless Distaffina do?
Curse on all morning dreams, they come so true!
Fusbos. Go, beauty go, thou source of woe to man,
And get another lover where you can:
The crown now sits on Griskinissa's head,
To her I'll go——
Distaf. But are you sure they're dead?
Fusbos. Yes, dead as herrings—herrings that are red.