Solo

Chorus.

Surely we for wine may languish!

Let the bumper then go round!
For all sighs and groans of anguish

Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd.

Why, young orphan, all this wailing?

"Would to heaven that I were dead!
For my guardian's craft prevailing

Soon will make me beg my bread."
Knowing well the rascal genus,

Into court I dragg'd the knave;
Fair the judges were between us,

And the maiden's wealth did save.