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Vancouver Early Music Festival 2012

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n Scene 8 (Angelica e poi Orlando)<br />

Recitativo angelica Tutto a poter partire<br />

Ha già disposto il mio gradito amante.<br />

Addio, dunque vi lascio, amiche piante.<br />

Aria di Angelica angelica Verdi piante, erbette liete<br />

Vago rio, speco frondoso<br />

Sia per voi benigno il ciel.<br />

Delle vostre ombre segrete<br />

Mai non turbi ‘l bel riposo<br />

Vento reo, nembo crudel.<br />

Verdi piante, etc.<br />

n Scene 9 (Orlando solo)<br />

Recitativo orlando Ah Stigie larve!<br />

Accompagnato Ah scellerati spettri<br />

Che la perfida donna ora ascondete<br />

Perché al mio amor offeso<br />

Al mio giusto furor non la rendete?<br />

Ah misero e schernito!<br />

L’ingrata già m’ha ucciso;<br />

Sono lo spirto mio da me diviso<br />

Sono un’ombra, e qual ombra adesso io voglio<br />

Varcar là giù ne’ regni del cordoglio.<br />

Ecco la Stigma barca.<br />

Di Caronte a dispetto<br />

Già solco l’onde nere: con Pluto<br />

Le affumicate soglie, e l’arso tetto.<br />

Aria di Orlando orlando Già latra cerbero<br />

E già dell’Erebo<br />

Ogni orribile<br />

Squallida furia sen viene a me.<br />

Ma la Furia, che sol mi diè martoro<br />

Dov’è? Questa è Medoro.<br />

A Proserpina in braccio<br />

Vedo che fugge. Or a strapparla io corro.<br />

Ah! Proserpina piange!<br />

Vien meno il mio furore<br />

Se si piange all’inferno anco d’amore.<br />

INTERVAL<br />

Vaghe pupille, non piangete, no<br />

Che del pianto ancor nel regno<br />

Può in ognun destar pietà;<br />

vaghe pupille, non piangete, no<br />

ma sì, pupille, sì piangete sì<br />

che sordo al vostro incanto<br />

ho un core d’adamanto<br />

né calma il mio furor<br />

ma sì, pupille sì piangete sì.<br />

(Si getta furiosamente dentro alla grotta,<br />

che scoppia, vedendosi il Mago nel suo caro,<br />

che tiene fra le braccia Orlando,<br />

e fugge per aria.)<br />

(Angelica, and afterwards Orlando)<br />

All things are now, by my dear lovely youth,<br />

prepared for our departure. Friendly shadows<br />

I now salute you with my last farewell.<br />

Blooming thickets, bowery scene<br />

lovely rill and grotto green<br />

ever my serenest skies<br />

cheer you with their kind supplies<br />

Never may destructive storm<br />

your delicious sweets deform,<br />

or the soft repose invade<br />

of your ever secret shade.<br />

Blooming thickets …<br />

(Orlando solo)<br />

Ah Stygian monsters! Ah, ye impious spectres!<br />

Who hide that faithless woman from my view!<br />

Why render ye not up your guilty charge<br />

to my just vengeance and offended love!<br />

Wretch that I am! Abandoned and betrayed!<br />

The proud ingrate has robbed me of my life!<br />

I’m now a shade divided from my self<br />

a fleeting shade, and I as such determine<br />

to sink into the gloomy realms of woe!<br />

This is the Stygian bark! In spite of Charon<br />

I navigate the dark and dreary waves!<br />

There the throne rises of tremendous Pluto.<br />

Black with resounding smoke! Behold the God!<br />

How dreadfully he nods his flaming head!<br />

Now Cerberus begins to howl<br />

and hideous Furies grimly scowl;<br />

from each dark quarter of the dead,<br />

the haggard forms around me spread.<br />

But where the Fury is that lone torments me!<br />

This is Medoro in the guilty arms<br />

of Proserpine, who skims from my revenge!<br />

I fly to rend him from her wanton clasp!<br />

But ah, she weeps! Even Proserpine can weep!<br />

My fury softens, and I am calm again,<br />

since even in Erebus, love calls out tears.<br />

O lovely eyes, no longer flow!<br />

For, even in these realms of woe,<br />

a sight so moving will engage<br />

each Fury to renounce his rage.<br />

O lovely eyes, no longer flow!<br />

-Yes rather weep, forever, so!<br />

For I to your enchanting woes<br />

a heart like diamond I possess<br />

No softness shall my fury know<br />

Yes rather weep, forever, so.<br />

(Rushes furiously into the grotto, which bursts<br />

open, and discovers the Magician, seated in his<br />

chariot, who clasps Orlando in his arms, and<br />

flies through the air.)<br />

<strong>Vancouver</strong> <strong>Early</strong> <strong>Music</strong> <strong>Festival</strong> <strong>2012</strong> — Handel’s “Orlando” - page 24 — www.earlymusic.bc.ca

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