Bass solo
Harpsichord obligata

O Love, thou art a traitor.
Thou shalt not cheat me more.
I want no more thy fetters,
I want no anguish, sorrow,
No grief and servitude.

I wish to test
If I now may cure
This mine own spirit of the wounding that's fatal,
And whether one can live without thine arrows.
Let no more expectation's
Allurements with their sorrow
And their pleasures fill my bosom,
Nor thy fickle ways confront now my steadfastness.

Ev'ry lover who hath his fortune found hostile
Is a madman if he cease not to love;
Free thy soul of its cruel constrictions,
If thou find no repayment for grief.