Vic. Was my fond mother alive!—Catilina, my father will certainly marry this Dame Isabel; I'm now an alien to his affections, bereft of every joy and every hope, I shall quit the world without a sigh.
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,