The stillness of thy holy solitude:
My heart is full of care.
Ans. There is no place
So hallow’d as to be unvisited
By mortal cares. Nay, whither should we go
With our deep griefs and passions, but to scenes
Lonely and still, where He that made our hearts
Will speak to them in whispers? I have known
Affliction too, my daughter.
Con. Hark! his step!