Like a small bubble breaking with the wave

Which bore it, shall be nothing. At the least,

My fate is in my keeping: no proud victor

Shall count me with his spoils.

Enter Pania.

Pan.‍Away with me,240

Myrrha, without delay; we must not lose

A moment—all that's left us now.

Myr.‍The King?

Pan. Sent me here to conduct you hence, beyond