That I should hit her at so long a range;
My aim was truer than I thought it was,
And the poor little lady’s dead!
Myr.Alas!
This is the calmness of insanity.
What shall we do? Go, hide yourself away—
Leuc. But—
Myr.Not a word—I will not hear thy voice,
I will not look upon thy face again;
Begone!