While the bodies still lie at the bottom of a lime pit, it might be helpful to the people of this town to have services for the deceased. You have one of the town's few remaining clergymen speak in honor of all those lost, and the people seem eased by it, but the plague doesn't stop. The next week there's another service the new dead. Each week you hold one as more people leave and die. At length, there's nobody left to mourn. With everybody dead or gone, you're done here; you've managed the plague in this area. You didn't actually help anybody, but you made the time a little easier for them. You're an abject failure at your task, but at least you're a nice person. The dream ends, returning you and your inflated pride to wakefulness.