She chose the fatal sword.
The fool hath quite mistook her play.
Ch. He will have harmed her, if she be not slain.
Ah, Pyrrha, Pyrrha!1330
Why ran we away?
Deid. Why stand we here?
To the rescue: follow me.
Ch.Whither—our cries are vain.
Maybe she lieth now close by
And hears but cannot make reply.