pastoral dialogues

Eloq uence
PASTORAL DIALOGUES
Robert Jones
John Dowland
Robert Johnson
William Lawes
Sigismondo d’India
Emma Kirkby · David Thomas
Anthony Rooley · Trevor Jones
In the mid-1970s this humble lute-player had theatrical pretensions! I realized quite early on in my
performing career that audiences generally needed more help to ‘get inside’ the beautiful obscure
music I was discovering, and if their appetite was to be fostered, a new dimension in the manner of
presentation had to be found.
Quite unexpectedly, I discovered it in some of the most obscure music I had hitherto worked with –
duets and dialogues from the mouths of nymphs and shepherds, created for a court circle of nobility
who thoroughly enjoyed adopting the manners and playfulness of what was regarded as suitable for
‘pastoral customs’ from the ancient world of Arcadia.
To revive this art-form meant urging my singers to adopt appropriate characters – lamenting nymphs,
raunchy shepherds, hard-done by Goddesses or erotic Gods – and done with a degree of theatricality
not yet seen in the ‘early music revival’ of the 1970s. Performances were noted for their strait-laced
manner – but now we had to step out and ‘be’ someone, be playful and passionate. Early music was
never quite the same after that!
Anthony Rooley
2010
PASTORAL DIALOGUES
£
SIGISMONDO D’INDIA (c.1582-1629)
Che farai, Meliseo · Qual fiera sì crudel
8’59
$
ALESSANDRO GRANDI (1586-1630)
Surge propera amica mea
3’29
5’15
1
ROBERT JONES (c.1577-1617)
Whither runneth my sweetheart?
2
3
WILLIAM CORKINE (fl.1610-1617)
Fly swift my thoughts
We yet agree
0’51
1’10
%
SIGISMONDO D’INDIA (c.1582-1629)
Odi quel rosignuolo
4
JOHN DOWLAND (1563-1626)
Sorrow stay · Die not, before thy day · Mourn, day is with darkness fled
6’55
^
GIOVANNI ROVETTA (c.1596-1668)
Uccidetemi pur, bella tiranna
3’08
5
6
7
ROBERT JOHNSON (c.1583-c.1634)
As I walked forth
’Tis late and cold
Charon, O Charon
3’02
1’49
6’13
&
TARQUINIO MERULA (1594 or 1595 - 1665)
No, ch’io non mi fido
3’56
8
9
WILLIAM LAWES (1602-1645)
Come, my Daphne, come away (Strephon & Daphne) (Dialogues)
Vulcan, O Vulcan, my love (Venus & Vulcan) (Dialogues)
1’35
2’14
0
ENRICO RADESCA DI FOGGIA (? - 1625)
Non miri il mio bel sole
1’45
!
JACAPO PERI (1561-1633)
Al fonte, al prato
1’15
@
ANDREA FALCONIERI (1585 or 1586 - 1656)
Perchè piangi, pastore
4’04
2’18
Emma Kirkby, soprano
David Thomas, bass
Anthony Rooley, lute
Trevor Jones, bass viol
Total timing: 58’08
English duets and dialogues from the
beginning of the seventeenth century first
emerge from the English lute-song
publications. Their title-pages tell of the variety
of instrumentations that can be used to
perform the music contained (‘a triplicitie of
musick’) which regularly includes music for
two voices. The earliest examples are duets
rather than dialogues; that is the poetic text is
the same in both vocal parts. Jones, Corkine
and Dowland form a representative group of
earlier composers who write such duets.
Usually an accompaniment, fully written-out
rather than given as a continuo bass line, is
included underneath the cantus line. Corkine’s
‘Fly swift my thoughts’ is exceptional in being
for two voices alone.
Dowland’s great trilogy which begins with
‘Sorrow Stay’ is arguably more dramatic when
performed with soprano and bass, as
indicated in the original, than as a solo song,
for the interlaced suspensions become more
apparent and the word-play between the
parts more anguished. The enigmatic third
section, ‘Mourn, day is with darkness fled’ is
perhaps easier to understand in this version.
The duet gave way to the more theatrical
dialogue after the first decade of the century
as poets and composers searched for
increasingly expressive and dynamic forms.
This is true too of the solo song which
becomes increasingly free and characterful.
The sardonic humour of ‘’Tis late and cold’ is
a good example. Robert Johnson, one of the
younger generation that Dowland complained
about, created a new and freer kind of songwriting. Elements of the Italian declamatory
style were certainly influential in England, but
the differences in language structure ensured
that no slavish imitation of Italian vocal writing
emerged. Johnson could still write a beautiful
tune, as in the elegiac ‘As I walked forth’,
which is imbued with a tender delicacy. His
Charon dialogue, borrowing a classical theme
also follows the mood of each character.
Johnson’s approach to the dialogue needs
some tempering before it matches the best of
the contemporary Italian dialogues. It takes a
second generation, embodied here in the
dialogues by William Lawes, before England
can match the Italians with dramatic
expression and controlled craftsmanship.
Anthony Rooley
For Italian vocal music, the years around 1600
were a time of deep and irreversible change.
Not only did they witness the birth of opera,
with its radically new style of declamatory
recitative, but also the emergence of new
styles of solo song and music for small
ensemble, all of which employed a basso
continuo accompaniment. Using this
technique, the composer wrote down only an
instrumental bass to support the vocal lines,
intending a discreet accompaniment to be
improvised above it on instruments such as
harpsichord or lute. By foregoing the rich
inner part-writing of songs arranged from
polyphonic originals, the composer aimed to
give the singer the rhythmic freedom to
declaim the text in a rhetorical manner.
Indeed, composer and singer were often the
same person, as in the case of Giulio Caccini,
whose epoch-making collection of songs, Le
Nuove Musiche (The New Music), was
published at Florence in 1602.
The new manner of Florentine song is best
represented here by the work of Sigismondo
d’India. Before settling at Turin in 1611,
d’India had visited various Italian courts,
probably without regular employment. He
was known at Florence, where some of his
earliest songs were sung by Caccini, as d’India
himself tells us in the preface to his Musiche of
1609. The two bass arias ‘Che farai, Meliseo?’
and ‘Qual fiera sì crudel?’ come from this
collection and their declamatory style and
fairly restrained ornamentation are typical of
early Florentine song. ‘Odi quel rosignuolo’,
published towards the end of the twelve years
that d’India spent in Turin as director of
chamber music to the Duke of Savoy, also
embodies the ideals of Florentine songs, at
least in its opening bars, where the singer
declaims the text in a fluid line above a slowmoving bass. For the most part, however, the
setting is given over to displays of virtuoso
singing, suggesting the power and flexibility
of the nightingale’s song.
Caccini himself published only solo songs, but
his followers quickly adapted the techniques
of continuo song to other contexts. Texts
involving dialogue between two or more
characters were now set with the roles
assigned to single voices, as in the madrigal
‘Perchè piangi, pastore?’ by the Neapolitan
lutenist Andrea Falconieri and the motet
‘Surge propera, amica mea’ by Alessandro
Grandi, a singer-composer who worked at
Ferrara from 1597 to 1617. Both composers
chose amorous texts for their settings. Grandi
drew on The Song of Solomon, adapting the
verses that he chose to form a decorous
dialogue between lover and beloved.
Falconieri, on the other hand, chose a text
which shows the extremes to which love
poetry was taken by secular poets. It is
explicitly sexual and bears all the hallmarks of
Marinist poetry: the strained metaphor, the
obsession with kisses and the double meaning
of the lovers’ ‘death’.
Giovanni Rovetta and Tarquinio Merula
represent a later generation of duet
composers. Rovetta, a native Venetian,
became Monteverdi’s assistant at St. Mark’s,
Venice, in 1627, eventually succeeding him as
choirmaster in 1644. His madrigalian duet
‘Uccidetemi pur, bella tiranna’ illustrates the
new suavity of line and harmony found in
Venetian music of the 1620s.
The change of approach to composition in
early seventeenth-century Italy has been
described as ‘revolutionary’, but it is important
to recognize that there was a strong element
of continuity between the ‘old’ and the ‘new’
music. This is evident in the earliest duets with
continuo, particularly in the type of duet
represented by the work of Enrico Radesca di
Foggia, who was organist of Turin cathedral
from about 1597 and worked with d’India at
the court of Savoy, and Jacopo Peri, a
contemporary and rival of Caccini at Florence
and the composer of the earliest surviving
complete opera, Euridice (1600). The duets for
soprano and bass by these composers
resemble the two outer voices of a polyphonic
canzonetta, with the bass supporting the
soprano’s melody; and, indeed, duets of this
kind had been arranged from polyphonic
originals in the sixteenth century.
Tarquinio Merula was recognized in his own
day as a musician of distinction. His career was
not without setbacks, however, for in 1632 he
was dismissed from his post as organist of
Santa Maria Maggiore, Bergamo, for ‘wicked
misbehaviour and indecency manifested
towards some of his pupils’. ‘No, no, ch’io non
mi fido’, like much of Merula’s secular music,
reveals a lively and inventive imagination. It is
a strophic aria over an ostinato bass. Merula
gives the four stanzas alternately to bass and
soprano and maintains our interest by his
skilful manipulation of the vocal line as he
matches the nuances of the text.
John Whenham & Nigel Fortune
1 Whither runneth my sweet heart?
Whither runneth my sweet heart?
Stay awhile, prithee,
Not too fast!
Too much haste
Maketh waste.
But if thou wilt needs be gone
Take my love with thee.
Thy mind doth bind me to no vile condition;
So doth thy truth prevent me of suspicion.
Go thy ways then where thou please,
So I [am] by thee.
Day and night
I delight
In thy sight.
Never grief on me did seize
When thou wast nigh me.
My strength, at length that scored thy fair commandings,
Hath not forgot the price of rash withstandings.
Now my thoughts are free from strife,
Sweet, let me kiss thee.
Now can I
Willingly
Wish to die,
For I do but loathe my life
When I do miss thee.
Come prove my love, my heart is not disguised.
Love shown and known ought not to be despised.
2 Fly swift, my thoughts
Fly swift, my thoughts, possess my mistress’ heart,
And as you find her love, plead my desert.
If she be somewhat wayward, happy my desires;
A little coyness doth but blow men’s fires.
But will she needs forgive the baines I crave,
Retire and be buried in your master’s grave.
3 We yet agree
We yet agree, but shall be straightways out.
Thy passions are so harsh and strange to me
That, when the concord’s perfect, I may doubt
The time is lost which I have spent for thee.
Yet one the ground must be, which you shall prove
Can bear all parts that descant on my love.
4 Sorrow, stay!
Sorrow, stay! lend true repentant tears
To a woeful wretched wight.
Hence, Despair! with thy tormenting fears
O do not my poor heart affright.
Pity, help! now or never,
Mark me not to endless pain.
Alas, I am condemned ever,
No hope, no help there doth remain.
But down, down, down I fall,
And arise I never shall.
Die not before thy day
Die not before thy day, poor man condemned,
But lift thy low looks from the humble earth.
Kiss no Despair and see sweet Hope contemned,
The hag hath no delight but moan for mirth.
O fie, poor fondling! fie! be willing
To preserve thyself from killing.
Hope, thy keeper, glad to free thee,
Bids thee go and will not see thee.
Hie thee quickly from thy wrong!
So she ends her willing song.
Mourn! Day is with darkness fled
Mourn! mourn! Day is with darkness fled.
What heaven then governs earth?
O none but hell in heaven’s stead
Chokes with his mists our mirth.
Mourn! mourn! look now for no more day
Nor night, but that from hell.
Then all must as they may
In darkness learn to dwell.
But yet this change must needs change our delight,
That thus the sun should harbour with the night.
5 As I walk’d forth
As I walk’d forth one summer’s day,
To view the meadows green and gay,
A pleasant bower I espied,
Standing fast by the river side,
and in’t a maiden I heard cry,
Alas, alas, there’s none e’er lov’d as I.
You’ll find but cold drinking in the grave:
Plover, partridge, for your dinner,
And a capon for a sinner.
You shall find ready when you are up,
And the horse shall have his sup:
Welcome, welcome, shall fly round,
And I shall smile, though underground.
Then round the meadow did she walk,
Catching each flower by the stalk,
Such flow’rs as in the meadow grew,
The dead-man’s thumb, and herb all blue
And as she pull’d them still cried she,
Alas, alas, there’s none e’er lov’d like me.
7 Charon, O Charon
Soprano:
Charon, oh Charon, come away!
Why dost thou let me call so long?
When time, thou know’st, for none will stay;
In which thou dost me double wrong.
The flowers of the sweetest scents
She bound about with knotty bents.
And as she bound them up in bands,
She wept, she sigh’d, and wrung her hands:
Alas, alas, alas, cried she,
Alas, alas, there’s none e’er lov’d like me.
Charon:
Ho! ho! What hasty wight doth call?
Say whence thou com’st, or whither would’st thou go;
Nor Charon nor his boat were made for all
That call for to be wafted to and fro:
Did love or honour send thee?
Say! If not, then Charon means to stay.
When she had filled her apron full
Of such green things as she could cull,
The green leaves served her for her bed,
The flowers were the pillow for her head;
Then down she laid, ne’er more did speak,
Alas, alas, with love her heart did break.
6 ’Tis late and cold
’Tis late and cold;
Stir up the fire;
Sit close, and draw the table nigher;
Be merry, and drink wine that’s old,
A hearty, good med’cine against the cold!
Your beds of wanton down the best,
Where you may tumble, tumble, tumble to your rest;
I could well wish you wenches too,
But I am dead and cannot do.
Call for the best the house may ring,
Sack, white and claret let them bring,
Drink a pace while breath you have,
Soprano:
Oh, list to me, and I will tell
The cause of my sad fate:
Charon:
Go on, poor soul, I hear thee well,
And wilt thy woes, thy woes, and wilt thy woes abate.
Soprano:
Thanks gentle Charon.
Charon:
On, I say.
Soprano:
Then truth to let thee know,
’Twas love himself sent me this way.
Charon:
That foolish boy! How so?
Soprano:
By killing my poor heart with grief,
And wounding my sad soul.
Charon:
And could’st thou then find no relief?
Soprano:
Oh no!
Charon:
Alas, poor fool!
This foolish, wanton, blind, unconstant boy,
Doth send more souls unto my boat and me,
Than all the gods that death doth still employ,
Or fatal destinies, the sisters three.
Soprano:
Oh! had’st thou been of human race
Thou could’st not breathe forth such disgrace
Of love, to term him foolish, blind;
But would’st have borne a gentler mind.
Charon:
Women and fools, they are his subjects still;
Thousands of such he uses in their kind;
He makes them whine, and cry, and sigh, but still
They be as deaf and dumb as he is blind.
Then laughs at them and sends them tumbling,
tumbling, tumbling, hither,
Respecting them, nor me, nor wind, nor weather.
Soprano:
Charon!
Charon:
I come.
Soprano:
I prithee haste away;
My time’s prefixt;
I can no longer stay.
Charon:
Oh, here I come.
Soprano:
Thrice welcome now at last.
Charon:
Then come aboard, and to those pleasures haste,
That in Elysium grow.
Soprano:
For those I long,
And wish there still to live.
Charon:
Then with a song
In spite of love, as I do waft thee thither,
We’ll sing of joys, and all delights together.
Both:
Then to those fields, then to those fields,
and most delightful plains,
Where lovers gain their joys, and end, and end their pains.
8 Daphne and Strephon
Strephon:
Come my Daphne, come away, we do waste the crystal day.
Daphne:
’Tis Strephon calls, what would my love?
Strephon:
Come follow to the Myrtle Grove,
Where Venus shall prepare new chaplets for thy hair.
Daphne:
Were I shut up within a tree,
I’d rend my bark to follow thee.
Strephon:
My Shepherdess make haste, the minutes slide so fast.
0 Non miri il mio bel sole
Non miri il mio bel sole
Chi lui sol non honora,
Com’io, ch’altro non bramo, altro non miro
Da l’una a l’altr’aurora.
A gran ragion sospiro,
E chieggio per giustissima mercede
D’un amor, d’un fede,
D’un languir per bellezze al mondo sole
Sola solo il mio sole.
Let him not gaze upon my fine sun
Who does not honour her alone,
As do I, who desire no other, who look upon no other
From one day’s dawning to the next
With good cause I sigh,
And I ask, in well-earned recompense
Of love, of constancy,
Of pining for charms unique in the world,
Only this reward, my sun alone.
! Al fonte, al prato
Al fonte, al prato,
Al bosco, all’ombra,
Al fresco fiato
Che ‘l caldo sgombra,
Pastor correte.
Ciascun ch’ha sete,
Ciascun ch’e stanco,
Riposi il fianco.
To the spring, to the meadow,
To the woods, to the shade,
To the fresh breeze
Which dissipates the heat,
Shepherds, hasten.
He who is thirsty,
He who is weary,
Let him rest his limbs.
Fugga la noia,
Fugga ‘l dolore,
Il riso e gioia.
Sol caro Amore
Nosco soggiorni
Ne’ lieti giorni,
Nè s’odan mai
Querele o lai
Let tedium flee,
And sorrow too,
From laughter and joy.
May welcome Love alone
Dwell with us
In these happy days,
Nor let there be heard,
Laments or plaints.
Vulcan:
Is he so bold? well, for thy sake,
I that his Arrows heads have us’d to make of piercing steel,
Which Lovers feel, will temper lead,
Whose force is dull, and stroke is dead.
So that henceforth all men may blithely sing,
Cupid’s no God, his Bow a Toy, his Shaft no fearful thing.
Ma dolce canto
Di vaghi uccelli
Per verde manto
Degli aborscelli
Là suoni sempre
Con nuove tempre,
Mentre ch’all’onde
Ecco risponde,
But the sweet song
Of gentle birds
Through the green mantle
Of the groves
Ever sound
With new harmonies,
While to the waves
Echo replies,
Both:
So that henceforth all men may blithely sing,
Cupid’s no God, his Bow a Toy, his Shaft no fearful thing.
E mentre alletta,
Quanto più puote
La cicaletta
And while the cicada
With monotonous note
Entices,
Daphne:
In those cooler shades, will I blind as Cupid kiss
your Eye.
Strephon:
In thy bosom then I’ll stray, in such warm snow.
Who would not lose his way?
Daphne:
We’ll laugh and leave this world behind,
And gods themselves that see,
Shall envy thee and me,
But never find such joys when they embrace a Deity.
9 Venus and Vulcan
Venus:
Vulcan, Vulcan, O Vulcan, my Love!
Vulcan:
Who calls:
Who names me here, ’mongst flames?
Venus:
Sweet, hear my plaint, give sorrow ease.
Vulcan:
Thy sacred power who dares displease?
Venus:
Alas, forlorn Cupid! my wayward son doth scorn
Love’s just decree, my awful hest and heavenly
Deity.
Con roche note
Il sonno dolce
Che ‘l caldo molce,
E noi pian piano
Con lei cantiamo
As best she can,
Sweet slumber
Which moderates the heat,
And we, very softly,
Sing with her.
@ Perchè piangi, pastore?
Nymph:
Perchè piangi, pastore?
Nymph:
Why do you weep, shepherd?
Shepherd:
Piango, ch’io son senz’alma e senza core.
Shepherd:
I weep for I am without soul and without heart.
Nymph:
E quando gli perdesti?
Nymph:
And when did you lose them?
Shepherd:
Quando a la bocca I baci mi porgesti.
Shepherd:
When you offered kisses to my mouth.
Nymph:
Hor dimmi come, per tua cortesia.
Nymph:
Now tell me how that was, if you would be so kind.
Shepherd:
Dal pliacer vinto il cor, l’alma mia
Verso la lingua corse,
E da le labra le tue labre scorse.
Così restò quest’infelice salma
Senza core e senz’alma.
Shepherd:
When my heart by pleasure was laid low, my soul
Toward my tongue did hasten,
And from my lips with your lips did depart.
So this unhappy body was left
Without heart and without soul.
Nymph:
Hor su, non dubitare
Ch’io ti vo’ consolare.
Se coi baci rubai,
Coi baci renderò quanto furai
Nymph:
Come now, do not doubt
That I will console you.
If I robbed with my kisses,
With my kisses I will return what I stole.
Shepherd:
Baciami presto, Ninfa, ohimè, ch’io moro
Se non mi dai ristoro.
Shepherd:
Kiss me swiftly, nymph, alas for I die,
If you do not give me solace.
Nymph:
Non temer, che se ‘l cigno muor cantando,
Tu morirai baciando.
Nymph:
Fear not, for if the swan dies singing,
You shall die kissing.
Shepherd:
Moriam dunque, ben mio,
Che così voglio anch’io.
Shepherd:
Let us then die, my sweet,
For that is my wish too.
£ Che farai, Meliseo?
Che farai, Meliseo? Morte’ refiutati,
Poichè Filli t’ha posto in doglie e lacrime,
Nè più, come solea, lieta salutati.
Dunque, amici pastor, ciascun consacrime
Versi sol di dolor, lamenti e ritimi,
E chi altro non puo, meco collacrime.
A pianger col tuo pianto ogn’uno incitimi,
Ogn’un la pena sua meco communiche,
Benchè il mio duol da sè dì e notte invitimi.
What will you do, Meliseo? Death rejects you,
Since Phyllis has left you in suffering and in tears,
And she no longer smiling greets you, as she always did before.
So, my shepherd friends, let each one proffer
Naught but lines of sorrow, laments and invocations,
While he who can do naught else, let him weep with me.
Let each one rouse me to tears with his tears,
Let each share his agony with me,
Though day and night my suffering by itself bids me welcome.
Qual fiera sì crudel?
Qual fiera sì crudel, qual sasso immobile
Tremar non si sentisse entro le viscere
Al miserabil suon del canto nobile?
E ti parrà che ‘l ciel voglia deiscere,
Se sentrai lamentar quella sua citera,
E che pietà ti roda, amor ti sviscere.
La qual, mentre pur ‘Filli’ altera ed itera
E ‘Filli’ i sassi, i pin ‘Filli’ rispondono,
Ogn’altra melodia dal cor m’oblitera.
What beast so cruel, what immobile rock
Does not feel itself tremble in its innermost being
At the rending note of that noble song?
And if you hear the mournful plaints of his lyre,
You will feel that heaven itself would break asunder,
And that pity gnaws you and love tears your vitals.
And while that lyre with different notes repeats ‘Phyllis’,
And the rocks and the pines reply ‘Phyllis’,
It cancels all other melody from my heart.
$ Surge propera amica mea
Bass:
Surge propera amica mea,
columba mea, formosa mea, et veni.
Bass:
Rise up, my love, my fair one,
and come away.
Soprano:
En dilectus meus loquitur mihi et vocat me:
Soprano:
My beloved spake and said unto me:
Bass:
Veni, veni dilecta mea. Iam enim hiems transit,
imber abiit et recessit; flores apparuerunt in
terra nostra.
Bass:
Come, my beloved! For, lo, the winter is past,
the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear
upon the earth.
Soprano:
Vox dilecti mei vocantis me!
en ipse fiat post parietem nostrum,
respicit per fenestras, prospiciens et cancellos.
Soprano:
The voice of my beloved! Behold he standeth
behind our wall,
he looketh forth at the windows.
Bass:
Veni, amica mea; iam vox turturis audita est in terra nostra.
Vinae florentes dederunt odorem suum.
Bass:
Come, my love. The voice of the turtle [dove] is heard
in our land, the vines give a good smell.
Soprano:
Vox adhuc dilecti mei! Leva eius sub capite meo
et dextera illius amplexabitur me.
Soprano:
The voice of my love! His left hand is under my head,
and his right doth embrace me.
Bass:
Surge, propera, speciosa mea et veni.
Bass:
Arise, my love, my fair one and come away.
Both:
Surgam et queram quem diligit anima mea.
Both:
I will arise and seek him whom my soul loveth.
% Odi quel rosignuolo
Odi quel rosignuolo
Che dolcemente canta,
E che forse ti credi
Che gli dia tanto spirito e tanta voce
In si picciole fauci, e che gli insegni
Spirar musico suono,
Hor lunghissimo, hor tronco,
Hora raccolto, hor sparso.
Odi come gl’accenti
Hora promette, hor gli niega,
Hor gl’intreccia, hor gli lega,
hor gli discioglie.
Mormora seco alquanto
E spiega poi repente il canto, hor chiaro,
Hor pieno, hor grave, hora sottile, hor molle,
Hor l’inalza, hor la cade,
Hor la sostiene, hor la spiega, hor la vibra,
Hor l’inaspra, hor la tempra,
hor l’ammolisce:
Il mastro è solo Amore.
Hear the nightingale
Sweetly singing,
And perhaps you wonder
What gives so much strength and such tremendous voice
In such a tiny throat, and what teaches him
To breathe that tuneful sound,
Now long held, now shortened,
Now contained, now expansive,
Hear how he now offers his notes,
Now he withholds them,
Now he weaves them together, now joins them,
now separates them.
For a moment he sings to himself,
Then suddenly opens out his song, now clear,
Now full-throated, now solemn, now subtle, now yielding,
Now his voice rises, now it falls,
Now he holds it, now he opens it out, now he trills,
Now he sings harshly, now melodiously,
now his voice dies away:
Love alone decides the tune.
^ Ucciditemi pur, bella tiranna
Ucciditemi pur, bella tiranna,
Ucciditemi pur, rigida e fera,
Che per farvi gioire
M’appago di morire.
Ma che diran di voi, tanto severa,
Slay me indeed, beautiful tyrant,
Slay me indeed, unyielding savage lady,
For to give you pleasure,
I am content to die.
But what will they say of you, you who are so harsh,
Che diran gl’altri amanti ?
Chiameranvi ad ogn’hor turcha spietata,
E qual di furia ingrata,
Fuggiran i vostri crudi sambianti.
Onde se voi gradite
Tal pregio, empia, seguite,
E con le vostr’usate aspre punture
Ucciditemi pur.
What will the other lovers say of you?
At every moment they will call you merciless savage,
And they will flee your cruel features
As those of a heartless fury.
Wherefore, if you set your heart
On such reward, then, pitiless one, continue,
And with your practiced, bitter wounding,
Slay me indeed.
& No, no, ch’io non mi fido
Bass:
No, no, ch’io non mi fido
Di tue lusinghe e risi,
Di tuoi vezzi e sorrisi,
Del tuo parlar infido
Bass:
No, no, I do not trust
Your deceitful words nor your laughter,
Your blandishments nor your smiles,
Nor your treacherous speech.
Both:
Cangia donna pensier ogni momento:
Neve al sol, cera al foco, e foglia al vento.
Both:
Woman changes her mind every moment:
Snow in the sun, wax in the fire, leaf in the wind.
Soprano:
No, no, che più non credo
Ai detti, ai giuramenti,
Ai sospiri, ai lamenti,
Che finti ogn’hor li vedo.
Soprano:
No, no, I no longer believe
In your phrases, in your vows,
In your sighs, in your laments,
Which I see as ever feigned.
Both:
Cangia donna pensier ecc.
Both:
Woman changes her mind etc.
Bass:
Sì, sì, ch’io ti conosco;
Hor sei lupa, hor agnella,
Hor sei lampo, hor sei stella,
Col dolce misci il tosco.
Bass:
Yes, yes, I know you,
Now you are a she-wolf, now a lamb,
Now you are a lightning flash, now a star;
You mix poison with sweetness.
Both:
Cangia donna pensier ecc.
Both:
Woman changes her mind etc.
Soprano:
Sì, sì, ch’io t’ho provata,
Mentitrice, bugiarda,
Soprano:
Yes, yes, I have found you out,
A liar, untrustworthy,
Traditrice, lusingarda,
Sanza fè, sciagurata.
Traitress, deceiver,
Faithless, wicked.
Both:
Cangia donna pensier ecc.
Both:
Woman changes her mind etc.
Recording producer: Morten Winding
Recording engineer: Martin Haskell
Recording location: Decca Studios, West Hampstead, London, UK, April 1979
Remastering: Audio Archiving Company, London, UK.
Cover image: detail from Annibale Carraci (1560-1609): ‘Venus & Adonis’ (Museo del Prado, Madrid)
Eloquence series manager: Cyrus Meher-Homji
Art direction: Chilu Tong · www.chilu.com
Booklet editors: Bruce Raggatt, Laura Bell
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