[Exit the woman, and Lyra says:
Lyra.
Thy cutting sword, thy warlike arm of weight,
On me their fatal power, good soldier, try;
Let her who prizes life with life remain,
And take mine own, for it is full of pain!
Soldier.
Although it is the Senate's stern command,
That not one woman shall in life abide,
Where shall we find the bold audacious hand