Z 628 King Arthur V, 41 Duet: "You say, 'tis Love creates the pain". [Italian translation]

SHE

You say, 'tis Love creates the pain,

Of which so sadly you complain,

And yet would fain engage my heart

In that uneasy cruel part;

But how, alas! think you that

I Can bear the wounds of which you die?

HE

'Tis not my passion makes my care,

But your indiff'rence gives despair:

The lusty sun begets no spring

Till gentle show'rs assistance bring;

So Love, that scorches and destroys,

Till kindness aids, can cause no joys.

SHE

Love has a thousand ways to please,

But more to rob us of our ease;

For waking nights and careful days,

Some hours of pleasure he repays;

But absence soon, or jealous fears,

O'erflows the joy with floods of tears.

HE

By vain and senseless Forms betray’d,

Harmless Love’s th’ Offender made;

While we no other Pains endure,

Than those, that we our selves procure

But one soft moment makes amends

For all the torment that attends.

BOTH

Let us love, let us love and to happiness haste.

Age and wisdom come too fast.

Youth for loving was design'd.

HE

I'll be constant, you be kind.

SHE

You be constant, I'll be kind.

BOTH

Heav'n can give no greater blessing

Than faithful love and kind possessing.