again succumbed to the power
     of her dark afflictions.
     Her brother and her friend sat by her
     and Montresor, although familiar with many
     of the gross and wonderful
     phenomena of morbid flesh
     marvelled at the depth and completeness of her coma.
     Life so exactly mirroring death
     that only the merest of involuntary pulses
     betrayed the presence of a Spirit hiding within.
     In the cold hours before dawn they broke their vigil
     and Montresor retired to a restless sleep
     only to be woken as a grey light spread from the east
     across the leaden tarn.

      (Usher and the Herbalist enter)
USHER   Montresor,
     she is dead.

     She is dead,
     I sat by her,
     I watched her;
     I am alone.

USHER,   That she should die so,
MONTRESOR,  that she should die so young,
HERBALIST  fate is cruel, fate is hard.

     Why must innocence be punished?
     Need a flower fall so fast?
     Why must innocence be punished?
     Was her soul too good to last?
     Now the punishment is finished
     And the fever... the fever called 'Living'...
     that fever's conquered at last.

USHER   Will you do something for me?

MONTRESOR  With all my heart

USHER   I wish my sister to be entombed
     in one of the vaults beneath the House.

     The family burial ground is remote,
     to lead her cortege there would
     require a strength of will I do not command.
     Will you help me bear her?

MONTRESOR  Of course, of course I will...

USHER   Come then, before I fully realise my loss.

        End of Act Five