She never will say no

Thomas Campian (o Campion; 1567 - 1° marzo 1620): I care not for these ladies, ayre (pubblicato in A Booke of Ayres, 1601). Alfred Deller, controtenore; Desmond Dupré, liuto.

I care not for these ladies
That must be wooed and prayed:
Give me kind Amaryllis,
The wanton country maid.
Nature art disdaineth,
Her beauty is her own.
Her when we court and kiss,
She cries, “Forsooth, let go!”
But when we come where comfort is,
She never will say no.

If I love Amaryllis,
She gives me fruit and flowers:
But if we love these ladies,
We must give golden showers.
Give them gold, that sell love,
Give me the nut-brown lass,
Who, when we court and kiss,
She cries, “Forsooth, let go!”
But when we come where comfort is,
She never will say no.

These ladies must have pillows,
And beds by strangers wrought;
Give me a bower of willows,
Of moss and leaves unbought,
And fresh Amaryllis,
With milk and honey fed;
Who, when we court and kiss,
She cries, “Forsooth, let go!”
But when we come where comfort is,
She never will say no.

Pubblicità

Never weather-beaten saile

Thomas Campian (o Campion; 12 febbraio 1567 - 1620): Never weather-beaten saile, ayre (pubblicato nel First Book of Ayres, 1613, n. 11). Ensemble Phoenix Munich e Stile Antico.

Never weather-beaten saile more willing bent to shore.
Never tired pilgrim’s limbs affected slumber more,
Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast:
O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest.

Ever blooming are the joys of Heaven’s high Paradise.
Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our eyes:
Glory there the sun outshines whose beams the blessed only see:
O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to thee.

Slide soft, you silver floods

Henry Lawes (5 dicembre 1595 - 1662): Slide soft, you silver floods, ayre. Anna Prohaska, soprano; Simon Martyn-Ellis, liuto.

Slide soft, you silver floods
And ev’ry Spring
Within these shady woods.
Let no bird sing,
But from this grove a turtle dove
Be seen to couple with his love.

   But silence on each dale and mountain dwell,
   Whilst that I weeping bid my love farewell.

You nymphs of Thetis’ train,
You mermaids fair
That on these shores do plane
Your seagreen hair,
As you in trammels knit your locks
Weep ye, and force the craggy rocks.

   In heavy murmurs through broad shores tell
   How that I weeping bid my love farewell.

Faire, sweet, cruell

Thomas Ford (c1580 - sepolto il 17 novembre 1648): Faire, sweet, cruell, ayre (pubblicato in Musicke of Sundrie Kindes, 1607, vol. I, n. 7). Victo­ria Cassano, soprano; Javier Ovejero Mayoral, liuto.

Faire, sweet, cruell, why doest thou flie mee,
Goe not, oh goe not from thy deerest,
Though thou doest hasten I am nie thee,
When thou see’mst farre then am I neerest,
  Tarrie then and take me with you.

Fie, fie, sweetest here is no danger,
Flie not, oh flie not loue pursues thee,
I am no foe, nor forraine stranger,
Thy scornes with fresher hope renewes me,
  Tarrie then and take me with you.

A Musicall Banquet: XI. In darkness let me dwell

 
John Dowland (1563 - 1626): In darkness let me dwell, ayre. Ellen Hargis, soprano; Jacob Heringman, liuto; Mary Springfels, viol.

In darkness let me dwell; the ground shall sorrow be,
The roof despair, to bar all cheerful light from me;
The walls of marble black, that moist’ned still shall weep;
My music, hellish jarring sounds, to banish friendly sleep.
Thus, wedded to my woes, and bedded in my tomb,
O let me living die, till death doth come, till death doth come.

Capolavoro di Dowland, il brano fu pubblicato dal figlio del compositore, Robert (1591 - 1641), nell’antologia A Musicall Banquet (Londra 1610, n. X).
In darkness let me dwell è l’ultima delle composizioni vocali su testo inglese della raccolta: fanno seguito tre airs de cour francesi (tutti e tre di Pierre Guédron, il cui nome non è tuttavia menzionato nella pubblicazione), due romances spagnoli e cinque arie su testo italiano.

A Musicall Banquet: X. Lady if you so spight me

John Dowland (1563 - 1626): Lady if you so spight me, ayre. Martyn Hill, tenore; Anthony Rooley, liuto; Trevor Jones, viol.

Lady if you so spight me,
Wherfore do you so oft kisse and delight mee?
Sure that my hart opprest and overcloyed,
May breake thus overjoyde,
If you seeke to spill mee,
Come kisse me sweet and kill mee,
So shal your hart be eased,
And I shall rest content and dye well pleased.

Il brano fu pubblicato dal figlio del compositore, Robert (1591 - 1641), nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet (Londra 1610, n. IX).

A Musicall Banquet: IX. Far from triumphing court

John Dowland (1563 - 1626): Lady if you so spight me, ayre « for one voice only to sing » su testo di sir Henry Lee of Ditchley (1533 - 1611). Emma Kirkby, soprano; Anthony Rooley, liuto.

Far from triumphing Court and wonted glory
He dwelt in shady unfrequented places,
Time’s prisoner now, he made his pastime story;
Glady forgets Court’s erst-afforded graces.
That goddess whom he served to heaven is gone,
And he on earth in darkness left to moan.

But lo, a glorious light from his dark rest
Shone from the place where erst this goddess dwelt;
A light whose beams the world with fruit hath blest;
Blest was the knight while he that light beheld.
Since then a star fixed on his head hath shined,
And a saint’s image in his heart is shrined.

Ravished with joy, so graced by such a saint,
He quite forgat his cell and self denaid;
He thought it shame in thankfulness to faint,
Debts due to princes must be duly paid;
Nothing so hateful to a noble mind
As finding kindness for to prove unkind.

But ah! poor knight, though thus in dream he ranged,
Hoping to serve this saint in sort most meet,
Time with his golden locks to silver changed
Hath with age-fetters bound him hands and feet.
Ay me! he cries, goddess, my limbs grow faint,
Though I Time’s prisoner be, be you my saint.

Il brano fu pubblicato dal figlio del compositore, Robert (1591 - 1641), nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet (Londra 1610, n. VIII).

A Musicall Banquet: VIII. In a grove most rich of shade

Guillaume Tessier (sec. XVI): In a grove most rich of shade, ayre su testo di Philip Sidney (da Astrophel and Stella). Versione per 1 voce e liuto: Emily van Evera e Paul O’Dette; versione per 2 voci e liuto: Emma Kirkby, soprano; David Thomas, basso; Anthony Rooley, liuto.

In a grove most rich of shade
where birds wanton music made,
May then in his pied weeds showing,
new perfumes with flowers fresh growing.

Astrophel with Stella sweet
did for mutual comfort meet
both within themselves oppressed,
but each in the other blessed.

Him great harms had taught much care,
Her fair neck a foul yoke bare;
But her sight his cares did banish,
In his sight her yoke did vanish.

Wept they had, alas the while,
But now tears themselves did smile,
While their eyes, by love directed,
Interchangeably reflected.

Sigh they did, but now betwixt
Sighs of woe were glad sighs mixt;
With arms crossed, yet testifying
Restless rest, and living dying.

Their ears hungry of each word
Which the dear tongue would afford;
But their tongues restrained from walking,
Till their hearts had ended talking.

But when their tongues could not speak,
Love itself did silence break:
Love did set his lips asunder,
Thus to speak in love and wonder.

Therewithal away she went,
Leaving him so passion, rent
With what she had done and spoken,
That therewith my song is broken.

In a grove most rich of shade è l’ottava canzone di Astrophel and Stella: il testo è stato adattato a una composizione che il francese Guillaume Tessier aveva inserito nel proprio Premier Livre d’Airs tant en François, Italien qu’Espaignol…, edito a Parigi nel 1582 con una dedica (in italiano) «alla Sereniss. e Sacratiss. Regina d’Inghilterra»; è probabile che Sidney conoscesse personalmente Tessier.
Il brano venne poi ripubblicato da Robert Dowland (1591 - 1641) nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet (Londra 1610, n. VII), antologia dedicata a sir Robert Sidney, fratello di Philip e padrino del curatore.

A Musicall Banquet – VII. To Plead My Faith

 
Daniel Bacheler (1572 - 1618 o 1619): Change thy mind since she doth change, ayre su testo di Robert Devereux, II conte di Essex (1567 - 1601). Nigel Rogers, tenore; Anthony Bailes, liuto.

To plead my faith, where faith hath no reward;
to move remorse, where favour is not borne;
to heap complaints, where she doth not regard,
were fruitless, bootless, vain and yield but scorn.

I loved her whom all the world admir’d.
I was refus’d of her that can love none;
and my vain hope, which far too high aspir’d,
is dead and buried and for ever gone.

Forget my name, since you have scorn’d my love,
and womanlike do not too late lament;
since for your sake I do all mischief prove,
I none accuse nor nothing do repent.
I was as fond as ever she was fair,
yet lov’d I not more than I now despair.

Nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet, pubblicata a Londra nel 1610 a cura di Robert Dowland, il secondo brano composto su testo di Robert Devereux è opera di Daniel Bacheler, liutista e compositore che fu dapprima al servizio di sir Francis Walsingham, potente ministro di Elisabetta I; in seguito attivo presso lo stesso conte di Essex. venne infine nominato groom of the privy chamber della regina consorte Anna di Danimarca.

A Musicall Banquet – VI. O dear life

 
Anonimo (XVI-XVII secolo): O dear life, when shall it be, ayre su testo di Philip Sidney (1554 - 1586) tratto da Astrophel and Stella (Tenth Song). Emma Kirkby, soprano; David Thomas, basso; The Consort of Musicke, dir. Anthony Rooley.

O dear life, when shall it be
That mine eyes thine eyes may see;
And in them thy mind discover,
Whether absence hath had force,
Thy remembrance to divorce
From the image of thy lover?

Or if I myself find not,
After [Though my] parting aught forgot:
Nor debarr’d from Beauty’s treasure,
Let no tongue aspire to tell
In what high joys I shall dwell,
Only Thought aims at the pleasure.

Thought, therefore, I will send thee
To take up the place for me:
Long I will not after tarry:
There, unseen, thou may’st be bold,
Those fair wonders to behold,
Which in them my hopes do carry.

Thought, see thou no place forbear,
Enter bravely everywhere;
Seize on all to her belonging:
But, if thou wouldst guarded be,
Fearing her beams, take with thee
Strength of liking, rage of longing.

O my thought! my thoughts surcease,
Thy delights my woes increase;
My life fleets with too much thinking:
Think no more, but die in me,
Till thou shalt revived be,
At her lips my nectar drinking.

È di autore ignoto anche il secondo brano su testo di Philip Sydney inserito da Robert Dowland nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet (Londra 1610, n. V).

la 10ª canzone di Astrophel and Stella ispirò anche William Byrd (c1540 - 1623), che sui versi di Sidney compose un partsong a 5 voci (pubblicato in Songs of sundrie natures, 1589, n. 33). L’ascoltiamo qui nella interpretazione a voce sola con ac­com­pa­gna­mento strumentale dei Musicians of Swanne Alley, solista il soprano Emily van Evera:

A Musicall Banquet: V. Go, my flock

Anonimo (sec. XVI-XVII): Go, my flock, go get you hence, ayre su testo di Philip Sidney (1554 - 1586) tratto da Astrophel and Stella. Nigel Rogers, tenore; Anthony Bailes, liuto.

Go, my flock, go get you hence,
Seek some other place of feeding;
Where you may have some defence
From the storms in my breast breeding
And showers from mine eyes proceeding.

Leave a wretch in whom all woe
Can abide to keep no measure:
Merry flock! such one forego,
Unto whom mirth is displeasure:
Only rich in mischief’s treasure.

Stella! fayrest shepherdess!
Fayrest but yet cruelst ever!
Stella! whom the heav’ns still bless!
Though against me she persever;
Though I bliss inherit never.

Stella hath refusèd me!
Astrophel that so well servèd,
In this pleasant spring, must see,
While in pride flowers be preservèd
Himself only winter-starvèd.

Why, alas, then doth she swear
That she loveth me so dearly?
Seeing me so long to bear
Coals of love that burn so clearly:
And yet leave me hopeless merely?

No, she hates me, well away!
Fayning love, somewhat to please me:
Knowing, if she should display
All her hate, Death would soon seize me,
And of hideous torments ease me.

Then my dear flock now adieu!
But, alas, if in your straying,
Heavenly Stella meet with you,
Tell her, in your piteous blaying,
Her poor slave’s unjust decaying.

Personalità di spicco nell’Inghilterra elisabettiana, sir Philip Sidney è noto fra l’altro quale autore di una raccolta di versi (108 sonetti e 11 canzoni) in stile petrarchesco, pubblicata postuma nel 1591 con il titolo Astrophel and Stella: vi si celebra l’amore del poeta per Penelope Devereux (1563 - 1607).
Sorella maggiore del più noto Robert, 2° conte di Essex e favorito di Elisabetta I, quando aveva 13 anni Penelope fu promessa in sposa a Sidney; per ragioni non del tutto chiarite, il progetto andò a monte e, all’inizio del 1581, Penelope sposò controvoglia Robert Rich, in seguito 1° conte di Warwick (1559 - 1619), dal quale ebbe sette figli; nei versi di Sidney ricorre sovente il termine rich, evidente allusione al nome assunto dall’amata con questo matrimonio. Nel 1595 Penelope divenne amante di Charles Blount, 8° barone Mountjoy (1563 - 1606), il quale le diede altri tre figli; ottenuto il divorzio nel 1605, alla fine di quell’anno Penelope sposò Blount.
L’ayre composto da autore ignoto sul testo di Go, my flock, nona canzone di Astrophel and Stella, venne pubblicato da Robert Dowland nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet (Londra 1610, n. IIII) — questa antologia è dedicata a sir Robert Sidney, fratello di Philip e padrino del curatore.

A Musicall Banquet – IV. O eyes, leave off your weeping

Robert Hales (attivo 1583 - 1616): O eyes, leave off your weeping, ayre su testo di autore anonimo (talvolta erroneamente attribuito a Nicholas Breton, 1542 - 1626). Emma Kirkby, soprano; Anthony Rooley, liuto.

O eyes, leave off your weeping,
love hath the thoughts in keeping
that may content you.
Let not this misconceiving,
where comforts are receiving,
causeless torment you.

Clouds threaten but a shower;
hope hath his happy hour,
though long in lasting.
Time needs must be attended
Love must not be offended
with too much hasting.

But O the painful pleasure,
where Love attends the leisure
of life’s wretchedness:
where Hope is but illusion,
and Fear is but confusion
of Love’s happiness.

But happy Hope, that seeth
how Hope and Hap agreeth,
of life deprive me;
or let me be assured
when life hath death endured
Love will revive me.

Di Robert Hales sappiamo che fu al servizio di Elisabetta I, apprezzato dalla sovrana in particolare quale cantante, e poi di Anna di Danimarca, consorte di Giacomo I; O eyes, leave off your weeping, pubblicato da Robert Dowland nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet (Londra 1610, n. 4), è l’unica sua composizione nota.

A Musicall Banquet – III. Change thy mind

 
Richard Martin (XVI-XVII secolo): Change thy mind since she doth change, ayre su testo (risalente al 1597) di Robert Devereux, II conte di Essex (1567 - 1601). Nigel Rogers, tenore; Anthony Bailes, liuto.

Change thy mind since she doth change,
Let not fancy still abuse thee.
Thy untruth cannot seem strange
When her falsehood doth excuse thee.
Love is dead and thou art free;
She doth live, but dead to thee.

Whilst she lov’d thee best awhile,
See how she hath still delay’d thee,
Using shows for to beguile
Those vain hopes that have deceiv’d thee.
Now, thou see’st although too late
Love loves truth, which women hate.

Love no more since she is gone;
She is gone and loves another.
Being once deceiv’d by one,
Leave her love, but love none other.
She was false, bid her adieu;
She was best, but yet; untrue.

Love, farewell, more dear to me
Than my life which thou preservest.
Life, all joys are gone from thee,
Others have what thou deservest.
O my death doth spring from hence;
I must die for her offence.

[Die, but yet before thou die,
Make her know what she hath gotten.
She in whom my hopes did lie
Now is chang’d, I quite forgotten.
She is chang’d, but changed base,
Baser in so vile a place.]

Presente nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet, pubblicata a Londra nel 1610 a cura di Robert Dowland, Change thy mind è l’unica composizione pervenutaci di Richard Martin, musicista del quale si ignora pressoché tutto.

A Musicall Banquet – II. My heavy sprite

 
Anthony Holborne (c1545 - 1602): My heavy sprite, oppress’d with sorrow’s might, ayre su testo di George Clifford, III conte di Cumberland (1558 - 1606). Emma Kirkby, soprano; Anthony Rooley, liuto.

My heavy sprite, oppress’d with sorrow’s might,
of wearied limbs the burden sore sustains,
with silent groans and heart’s tears still complains,
yet I breathe still and live in life’s despite.
Have I lost thee? All fortunes I accurse
bids, thee farewell, with thee all joys farewell,
and for thy sake this world becomes my hell.

My heavy sprite di Anthony Holborne è il primo brano vocale della raccolta A Musicall Banquet, pubblicata a Londra nel 1610 a cura di Robert Dowland (1591 - 1641).

In the covert of the night

Thomas Campion (o Campian; 1567 - 1620): Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee, ayre (pubblicato nel Third Booke of Ayres, 1617, n. 8). Alfred Deller, controtenore; Robert Spencer, liuto.
Deller morì a Bologna il 16 luglio 1979.

Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee
When the evening beams are set?
Shall I not excluded be,
Will you find no feigned let?
Let me not, for pity, more
Tell the long hours at your door.
Who can tell what thief or foe,
In the covert of the night,
For his prey will work my woe,
Or through wicked foul despite?
So may I die unredressed
Ere my long love be possesed.
But to let such dangers pass,
Which a lover’s thoughts disdain,
’Tis enough in such a place
To attend love’s joys in vain:
Do not mock me in thy bed,
While these cold nights freeze me dead.

Folk songs: 1. Greensleeves

Anonimo (sec. XVI) Greensleeves, ballad (versione per voce e liuto); gli interpreti sono Donna Stewart e Ron Andrico, ossia il duo Mignarda, che ritroveremo più volte in un prossimo futuro. Buone emozioni a tutti 🙂

Alas, my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously,
And I have loved you so long,
Delighting in your company.

  Greensleeves was all my joy,
  Greensleeves was my delight,
  Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
  And who but my lady Greensleeves.

I have been ready at your hand,
To grant whatever you would crave;
I have both waged life and land,
Your love and good-will for to have.

I bought thee petticoats of the best,
The cloth so fine as fine might be:
I gave thee jewels for thy chest;
And all this cost I spent on thee.

Thy crimson stockings all of silk,
With gold all wrought above the knee,
Thy pumps as white as was the milk,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

Well! I will pray to God on high,
That thou my constancy mayst see,
And that, yet once before I die,
Thou wilt vouchsafe to love me!

Che cos’è dunque l’amor, se non doglianza?

Philip Rosseter (1567 o 1568 - 5 maggio 1623): What then is love but mourning?, ayre (1601). Alfred Deller, haute-contre, e Desmond Dupré, liuto.

What then is love but mourning?
What desire but a selfburning?
Till she that hates doth love return,
 Thus will I mourn,
 Thus will I sing,
Come away, come away my darling.

Beauty is but a blooming,
Youth in his glory entombing,
Time hath a while which none can stay,
 Then come away,
 While thus I sing,
Come away, come away my darling.

Summer in winter fadeth,
Gloomy night heav’nly light shadeth,
Like to the mourn are Venus’ flowers,
 Such are her hours,
 Then will I sing,
Come away, come away my darling.

Lilies on the river’s side

John Dowland (1563 - 1626): Come away, come, sweet love, ayre (pubblicato nel First Booke of Songes or Ayres, 1597, n. 11):
– versione a 4 voci con accompagnamento di liuto: The Consort of Musicke, dir. Anthony Rooley;
– versione a 1 voce con accompagnamento di liuto: Alfred Deller. controtenore; Robert Spencer, liuto.

Come away, come, sweet love,
the golden morning breaks.
All the earth, all the air
of love and pleasure speaks:
teach thine arms then to embrace
and sweet rosy lips to kiss,
and mix our souls in mutual bliss.
Eyes were made for beauty’s grace,
viewing, rueing love’s long pain
procur’d by beauty’s rude disdain.

Come away, come, sweet love,
the golden morning wastes,
while the sun from his sphere
his fiery arrows casts:
making all the shadows fly,
playing, staying in the grove,
to entertain the stealth of love.
Thither sweet love let us hie,
flying, dying in desire,
wing’d with sweet hopes and heav’nly fire.

Come away, come, sweet love,
do not in vain adorn
beauty’s grace, that should rise
like to the naked morn:
lilies on the river’s side,
and fair Cyprian flow’rs new-blown,
desire no beauties but their own.
Ornament is nurse of pride,
pleasure, measure love’s delight:
haste then sweet love our wishèd flight.