Ach. The voices that were here have ceased. Ah, there!
Not gone. ’Tis she, and by my cast-off robe
Sitting alone. I must speak comfort to her,
Whoe’er I seem. O Deidamia, see!
Pyrrha is found. Weep not for her. I tell thee
Thy Pyrrha is safe. Despair not. Nay, look up.
Dost thou not know my voice? ’Tis I myself.
Look up, I am Pyrrha.—Ah, now what prayer or plea
Made on my knees can aid me—If thou knowst all
And wilt not look on me? Yet if thou hearest