Download - Dowland Songs2
-
John Dowland Cances Elizabethanas
Volume 2
voz e violo
Data Msica Srie
Transcrio: Orlando Fraga
-
Nota Editorial
A presente edio em 3 volumes uma seleo entre as 38 canes contidas no The
First Booke of Songs or Ayres, de 1597 (1600, 1603, 1606, 1613) e no The Second
Booke of Songs or Ayres, de 1600, ambos de John Dowland.
Correntemente temos dois critrios de transcrio de msica de alade para violo:
por um lado, aquele que mantm a tonalidade original independente do mecanismo, e
por outro, que retm o movimento original dos dedos em detrimento da tonalidade.
Estes, por sua vez, aplicados msica para voz e alade nos possibilitam trs outras
abordagem: 1) a manuteno da tonalidade original tanto da voz quanto do violo; 2)
transposio tera menor abaixo de ambos, voz e violo; 3) um sistema hbrido onde
a voz permanece em sua tonalidade original e o violo transposto tera abaixo. O
segundo destes critrios o adotado nesta edio.
Nunca demais lembrar que a afinao do alade em sol, enquanto a do violo em
mi. Assim, para restabelecer a tonalidade original da cano, basta o violonista colocar
um capo-tasto na terceira casa. Outras transposies ou casas podem ser consideradas
para melhor acomodar tessitura da voz.
O texto preserva a ortografia original unicamente para fins musicolgicos e sua
modernizao pode ser bem vinda em situaes em que a clareza do texto seja
necessria.
A instrumentao , obviamente, para voz e violo/alade. Porm, seguindo os
critrios da poca, a voz pode ser substituda por um instrumento meldico, como a
flauta doce ou viola da gamba soprano, e o acompanhamento por outro instrumento
hamnico, como a harpa, espineta, virginal, rgo positivo, entre outros. A linha do
baixo pode ser dobrada por um instrumento grave, como a viola da gamba, flauta doce
baixo, violoncello, flageolet, e outros.
Finalmente, de suma importncia considerar uma ornamentao segundo os critrios
vigentes para a msica elisabethana. Consultas em tratados e mtodos contempo-
rneos, como os de Thomas Ford, Thomas Robinson e Thomas Mace, podem se revelar
difceis pela dificuldade de acesso. Porm pode-se apreender muito analisando os
procedimentos de ornamentao no restante da obra de Dowland, em particular nos
consorts onde aparecem verses de algumas das canes aqui contidas.
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The First Booke of Ayres (1597)
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His Golden Locks Time Hath to Silver TurndeTranscrio: Orlando Fraga John Dowland
The First Booke of Ayres (1597)
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The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600)
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If My ComplaintsTranscrio: Orlando Fraga John Dowland
The First Booke of Ayres(1597)
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In Darknesse Let Mee DwellTranscrio: Orlando Fraga John Dowland
A Musical Banquet (1610)
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My Thoughts Are Wing'd With Hopes(Sir John Souch's Galliard)
Transcrio: Orlando Fraga John DowlandThe First Booke of Songs or Ayres (!597)
14
-
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earth
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Now, O now, I needs must part(The Frog Galliard)
Transcrio: Orlando Fraga John DowlandThe First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597)
16
-
L
===============================##
Sad des
-
pair doth
drive me
hence,
===============================##
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O Sweet WoodsTranscrio: Orlando Fraga Joon Dowland
The Seconde booke of Songs or Ayres (1600)
18
-
L
===============================# w
tir'd,
In
these
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j
an
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The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600)
24
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Go crystal tears Text by Anonymous Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The First Booke of Ayres (1597) 1 Go crystal tears, like to the morning showers, And sweetly weep into thy lady's breast. And as the dews revive the drooping flow'rs. So let your drops of pity be address'd
To quicken up the thoughts of my desert, Which sleeps too sound whilst I from her depart.
2 Haste, restless sighs, and let your burning breath Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart, Whose frozen rigour, like forgetful Death, Feels never any touch of my desert,
Yet sighs and tears to her I sacrifice Both from a spotless heart and patient eyes.
25
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His golden locks Time hath to silver turned Text by Sir Henry Lea Set by John Dowland (1562-1626), from The First Book of Ayres (1597) 1 His golden locks Time hath to silver turned. O Time too swift! Oh swiftness never ceasing! His youth 'gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned, But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing.
Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen; Duty, faith, love are roots and ever green.
2 His helmet now shall make a hive for bees, And lover's sonnets turn to holy psalms. A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees, And feed on prayers which are Age's alms.
But though from Court to cottage he depart, His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart.
3 And when he saddest sits in homely cell, He'll teach his swains this carol for a song: Blest be the hearts that wish my Sovereign well. Curst be the soul that think her any wrong.
Goddess, allow this aged man his right To be your bedesman now that was your knight.
26
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I saw my lady weep Text by Anonymous Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600) * Dowland dedicated this song to Anthony Holborne, an Elizabethan composer widely known for his instrumental musio. 1 I saw my lady weep, And Sorrow proud to be advanced so, In those fair eyes where all perfections keep, Her face was full of woe; But such a woe (believe me) as wins more hearts, Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts. 2 Sorrow was there made fair, And Passion wise, tears a delightful thing, Silence beyond all speech a wisdom rare, She made her sighs to sing, And all things with so sweet a sadness move, As made my heart at once both grieve and love. 3 O fairer than aught else, The world can show, leave off in time to grieve, Enough, enough, your joyful looks excels, Tears kills the heart. O strive not to be excellent in woe, Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow.
27
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If my complaints could passions move Text by Anonymous Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The First Booke of Ayres (1597) 1 If my complaints could passions moove, Or make Love see wherein I suffer wrong: My passions were enough to proove, That my despayrs had governed me too long. O Love, I live and die in thee, Thy griefe in my deepe sighs still speakes: Thy wounds do freshly bleed in mee, My heart for thy unkindnes breakes: Yet thou dost hope when I despaire, And when I hope, thou makst me hope in vaine. Thou sayst thou canst my harmes repaire, Yet for redresse, thou letst me still complaine. 2 Can Love be ritch, and yet I want, Is Love my judge, and yet am I condemn'd? Thou plenty hast, yet me dost scant, Thou made a god, and yet thy pow'r contemn'd. That I do live it is thy power, That I desire it is thy worth, If Love doth make mens lives too soure, Let me not love, nor live henceforth, Die shall my hopes, but not my faith, That you that of my fall may hearers be, May here despaire, which truly saith, I was more true to Love than Love to me.
28
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In darkness let me dwell Text by Anonymous Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The Musical banquet (1610) 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 to my tomb O, let me living die, till death do come.
29
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My thoughts are wing'd with hopes (Sir John Souchs Galliard) Text probably by George Cliford, 3rd Earl of Cumberland (1558-1606) Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The First Booke of Ayres (1597) 1 My thoughts are wing'd with hopes, my hopes with love. Mount, Love, unto the moon in clearest night And say, as she doth in the heavens move, In earth, so wanes and waxeth my delight. And whisper this but softly in her ears, Hope oft doth hang the head and Trust shed tears. 2 And you my thoughts that some mistrust do carry, If for mistrust my mistress do you blame, Say though you alter, yet you do not vary, As she doth change and yet remain the same. Distrust doth enter hearts but not in feet, And love is sweetest seasoned with suspect 3 If she for this with clouds do mask her eyes, And make the heavens dark with her disdain, With windy sighs disperse them in the skies, Or with thy tears dissolve them into rain, Thoughts, hopes and love, return to me no more Till Cynthia shine as she hath done before.
30
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Now, oh now I needs must part Text by Anonymous Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) 1 Now, oh now I needs must part, Parting though I absent mourn. Absence can no joy impart; Joy once fled cannot return; Sad despair doth drive me hence; This despair unkindness sends. If that parting be offence, It is she which then offends. 2 Dear when I from thee am gone, Gone are all my joys at once, I lov'd thee and thee alone, In whose love I joyed once. And although your sight I leave, Sight wherein my joys do lie, Till that death doth sense bereave, Never shall affection die. Sad despair doth drive me hence; This despair unkindness sends. If that parting be offence, It is she which then offends. 3 Dear, if I do not return, Love and I shall die together. For my absence never mourn Whom you might have joyed ever; Part we must though now I die, Die I do to part with you. Him despair doth cause to lie Who both liv'd and dieth true. Sad despair doth drive me hence; This despair unkindness sends. If that parting be offence, It is she which then offends.
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O Sweet Woods Text Sir Philip Sidney Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600) 1 O sweet woods the delight of solitarinesse, O how much do I love your solitarinesse. From fames desire, from loves delight retird, In these sad groves an Hermits live I led, And hose false pleasures which I once admird, With sad remembrance of my fall, I dread, To birds, to trees, to earth, impart I this, For shee less secret, and as sencelesse is. O sweet woods the delight of solitarinesse,
O how much do I love your solitarinesse. 2 Experience which repentance onely brings, Doth bid mee now my hart from love estrange, Love is disdained when it doth looke at Kings, And love loe placed, base and apt to change: Ther power doth take from him his liberty, Hir want of worth makes him in cradell die.
O sweet woods the delight of solitarinesse, O how much do I love your solitarinesse.
3 You men that give worship unto Love, And seeke that which you never shall obtaine, The endlesse worke if Sisiphus you procure, Whose end is this, to know you strive in vaine, Hope and desire which now your Idols bee, You needs must loose and feele dispaire with mee.
O sweet woods the delight of solitarinesse, O how much do I love your solitarinesse.
4 You woods in you the fairest Nimphs have walked, Nimphs at whose sight all harts did yeeld to Love. You woods in whom deere lovers oft have talked, How doe you now a place of mourning prove, Wansted my Mistres saith this is the doome, Thou art loves Childbed, Nursery, and Tombe.
O sweet woods the delight of solitarinesse, O how much do I love your solitarinesse.
32
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Rest awhile, you cruel cares Text by Anonymous Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The First Booke of Ayres (1597) 1 Rest awhile, you cruel cares, Be not more severe than love. Beauty kills and beauty spares, And sweet smiles sad sighs remove. Laura, fair queen of my delight, Come grant me love in love's despite, And if I ever fail to honour thee, Let this heav'nly light I see Be as dark as hell to me. 2 If I speak, my words want weight, Am I mute, my heart doth break, If I sigh, she fears deceit, Sorrow then for me must speak. Cruel unkind, with favour view The wound that first was made by you, And if my torments feigned be, Let this heav'nly light I see Be as dark as hell to me. 3 Never hour of pleasing rest Shall revive my dying ghost, Till my soul hath repossessed The sweet hope which love hath lost. Laura, redeem the soul that dies By fury of thy murd'ring eyes, And if it proves unkind to thee, Let this heav'nly light I see Be as dark as hell to me.
33
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Shall I sue? Text by Anonymous Set by John Dowland (1562-1626) The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600) 1 Shall I sue, shall I seek for grace? Shall I pray shall I prove? Shall I strive to a heav'nly joy, With an earthly love? Shall I think that a bleeding heart Or a wounded eye, Or a sigh can ascend the clouds, To attain so high? 2 Silly wretch, forsake these dreams Of a vain desire, O bethink what high regard Holy hopes do require. Favour is as fair as things are, Treasure is not bought, Favour is not won with words, Nor the wish of a thought. 3 Pity is but a poor defence, For a dying heart, Ladies eyes respect no moan, In a mean desert. She is too worthy far, For a worth so base, Cruel and but just is she, In my just disgrace. 4 Justice gives each man his own, Though my love be just, Yet will not she pity my grief, Therefore die I must. Silly heart then yield to die Perish in despair, Witness yet how fain I die, When I die for the fair.
34