John. This once for your own sake, I ask you; it’s late at night, sleepiness makes one dazed, and one’s blood boils. You go and lie down. Besides, if I can believe my ears, people are coming to find me, and if we are found here you are lost. [Chorus is heard in the distance and gets nearer.]
“She pleases me like one o’clock,
My pretty young lidee,
For thoughts of her my bosom block,
Her servant must I be,
For she delights my heart,
Tiritidi—ralla, tiritidi—ra!
And now I’ve won the match,
For which I’ve long been trying,
The other swains go flying,