Marriage and Music in the Italian Renaissance

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Program conceived by Joel Cohen, 2008
Originally commissioned by the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston
A Boston Camerata series première, October 2010

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I. Invocation to Hymen

Hymen, o Hymen! Hymen, o Hymen! Hymen, o Hymen!

Come Hymen, o come, and may your glowing visage be as the rising Sun, bringing tranquil days to these lovers, driving away the shadows of torment and despair.

II. 1423: A Wedding Invitation from Rimini

Awaken, all tender lovers, and rejoice, spurn melancholy, for today is the wedding feast of noble Charles of Malatesta. He has chosen a fine lady, who will honor him; she is called Victory [Vittoria] and her progeny come from a pillar [Colonna], and that is why she has been demanded in marriage by the noble Charles of Malatesta.

III. The Virgin Bride

Arise, my love, come with me from Lebanon. You have wounded my heart.

Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee. Milk and honey are on thy tongue, and the smell of thine ointments surpasses all perfumes. The flowers appear on the earth, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land. Arise, my love, come with me from Lebanon.

As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

"The virgin has her image in the rose/Sheltered in garden on its native stock,/Which there in solitude and safe repose,/Blooms unapproached by sheperd or by flock.
For this earth teems, and freshening water flows,/And breeze and dewy dawn their sweets unlock:/With such the wistful youth his bosom dresses./With such the enamored damsel braids her tresses.
"But wanton hands no sooner this displace/From the maternal stem, where it was grown,/Than all is withered; whatsoever grace/It found with man or heaven; bloom, beauty, gone.
The damsel who should hold in higher place/Than light or life the flower which is her own,/Suffering the spoiler's hand to crop the prize,/Forfeits her worth in every other's eyes.”

The virgin has her image in the rose...

IV. The Hardy Groom

Colin’s life will not last forever. How his refined friends do behave! They go to the tavern, with great devotion.

Dindiridin, I awoke one morning before dawn, off to the garden to gather wallflowers. There I met the nightingale, who was singing under the branches. “Sweet nightingale, be my intermediary, and tell my lover that I am already married, dindiridin.”

Scaramella goes to war, with lance and buckles. Scaramella is quite the dandy with his cape and shoes!

Lady, within your house are roses, lilies, and flowers. Give me some of that cracker! Fortune, you’ve shown me a great time...give me some of that cracker!

V. The Young Bride’s Prayer

Margaret, glorious virgin of Christ, hear our prayers in the presence of your brightness, We join our voices to the eternal choir that you may protect us from calamity.

VI. Epithalamium: The Wedding Feast

The kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls:
Who, when he had found one pearl [margarita] of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it.

Descend from Paradise, O Venus, bringing your little cupids with you. May graces and laughter be merrier than accustomed; beneath a serene sky may the Tiber flow to the sea, bearing pearls in lieu of water in its cornucopia. And may your songs touch the stars, because the fair souls of Amaryllis and Thyrsis are united in the sacred and holy knot, like the vine to the elm, like ivy or acanthus to the trunk of the tree.

O happy day, o happy returning, reviving the weary heart. How much sweetness do I feel! O my light, my life, my infinite joy!

If you wish to win my favor, then write a song with no black notes. Do it in a mode that invites sleep, sweetly, sweetly, to a close. First of all, let there be no harshness, because my ears are not used to that. Do it in a mode that invites sleep, sweetly, sweetly, to a close.

Yes, Love, I wish to die, now that I kiss the beautiful mouth of my heart’s desire. Ah, dear and sweet tongue, give me such moisture that I die from sweetness against her breast. Ah, my life, hold me against your white breast until I faint. Ah, lips, kisses, tongue, and thus I say again: I wish to die, to die...

Come all ye, armed, my hardy soldiers! Fa la la. I am Love the unconquered, the accurate marksman. Do not fear in the slightest, but in a handsome formation, united, follow me, lusty ones. Fa la la!
They seem strong heroes, those arrayed against you. Fa la la. But against those who know how to hit the target, they will know not how to defend. Do not fear in the slightest, but, bold and strong, land your blows with skill. Fa la la!

I know well, yes I do, who is having a good time – but hush! I know who is the favorite, but I can’t say it. Ah, if only I could say who is in, and who is out. I’ll give you a little hammer, to drive you to despair. Salutations and handkissings, they are all for naught. Fa la la!