Vic. Dear Hypolito,
How have I wronged that meek, confiding heart!
I will go seek for her; and with my tears
Wash out the wrong I’ve done her!
Hyp. O beware!
Act not that folly o’er again.
Vic. Aye, folly,
Delusion, madness, call it what thou wilt,
I will confess my weakness—I still love her!
Still fondly love her!