Act II, Scene iv, Air IV-Cotillion

Youth-s the season made for joys,
Love is then our duty:
She alone who that employs,
Well deserves her beauty.
Let-s be gay
While we may,
Beauty-s a flower despised in decay.

Chorus. Youth-s the season, etc.

Let us drink and sport to-day,
Ours is not to-morrow:
Love with youth flies swift away,
Age is naught but sorrow.
Dance and sing,
Time-s on the wing,
Life never knows the return the spring.

Chorus. Let us drink, etc.