Our lords have ere this done all they could; on every altar streams the blood of abundant sacrifice; yet our sorrows find no cure.

ChorusLo! from the house cometh a handmaid weeping; what shall I be told hath chanced? Grief may well be pardoned, if aught happeneth to one’s master; yet I fain would learn whether our lady still is living or haply is no more.MaidAlive, yet dead thou may’st call her.