Scene V.
Cupid.
Recitative.
See how she flies, whilst warring passions shake her,
Nor thought nor lightning now can overtake her.
Air.
How often in the marriage state
The wise, the sensible, the great,
Find misery and woe;
Though, should we dive in nature's laws
To trace the first primæval cause,
The wretch is self-made so.
Air changes.
Love's a pleasure, solid, rëal,
Nothing fanciful, ideal,
'Tis the bliss of human kind;
All the other passions move
In subjection under Love,
'Tis the tyrant of the mind.
