AIR V.—VICTORIA.
Ah, solitude, take my distress,
My griefs I'll unbosom to thee,
Each sigh thou canst gently repress,
Thy silence is music to me.
Yet peace from my sonnet may spring,
For peace let me fly the gay throng,
To soften my sorrows I sing,
Yet sorrow's the theme of my song.
[Exit Victoria.
Catil. I quit this castle as soon as ever Donna Victoria enters a nunnery—Shall I go with her? No, I was never made for a nun—Ay, I'll back to the vineyard, and if my sweetheart, Philippo, is as fond as ever, who knows—I was his queen of all the girls, though the charming youth was the guitar, flute, fiddle, and hautboy of our village.