Th.Why call ye her?
Deid.Pyrrha! Nay.
And yet so like. Alas, beseech thee, lady
Or goddess, for I think that such thou art,
Who answering from the wood our sorrowing call
Now to our sight appearest,—hast thou regard
For her, whom thou so much resemblest, speak
And tell us of thy pity if yet she lives
Safe and unhurt, whom we have lost and mourn.
Th. ’Tis vain to weep her, as ’twere vain to seek.