Aria
Let me complain about lying,
Which sickens the soul.
Polite bows, the polished word,
One sees in so many situations,
Where the lips say something deceptively
While one secretly thinks otherwise.

Recitative
One can certainly see
With what friendliness Philidor
And Stax bid each other a good evening:
They kiss, they embrace,
And make the vow
That She is indeed another He,
A single heart
That exists in two bodies.
Yet wait!
We will get to know them better soon.
Look, how tenderly they take their leave!
Yet, tiptoe along after each!
O my, what one shouldn’t hear!
Stax complains from house to house
That Philidor is a lowly scoundrel,
And here, of the other, saying
That he is the most evil soul. 

Aria
Away from me, you masquerading villain!
You should be banished from my presence!
I want to live with a sincere heart
And treat everyone honestly;
Even though it may cause me unhappiness,
Yet my conscience remains clear.