There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings.
Contention of Ajax and Ulysses. Sc. 3.
Only the actions of the just[209:2]
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.[209:3]
Contention of Ajax and Ulysses. Sc. 3.
Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.
Cupid and Death.