EVENING HYMN

Now that the Sun hath veiled his Light,

And bid the World good Night;

To the soft Bed, my Body I dispose,

But where shall my Soul repose?

Dear God, even in Thy Arms, and can there be

Any so sweet Security!

Then to thy Rest, O my Soul! And singing, praise

The Mercy that prolongs thy Days.

Hallelujah!

Never was made

A vegetable (a plant)

more dear and loving

or gentle.

Let me weep over my cruel fate, and let me sigh for liberty. May sorrow shatter these chains, for my torments just out of pity. Librettist Giacomo Rossi

Psalm 127:1

English Translation:

Except the Lord build the house:

their labor is but lost that build it

Except the Lord keep the city:

The watchman waketh but in vain.

Come, oh son, and console me If the life avoids you, At least die in my breast.

Gismonda, a tormented mother sings “Vieni, o figlio” expressing her heartbreak by her son’s death sentence. She sings that she would die along with her son, if he died.

If you are with me, I will gladly go

to [my] death and to my rest.

Ah, how pleasant would my end be

if your dear, fair hands shut

my faithful eyes!

Have mercy, my God,

for the sake of my tears!

Look here, heart and eyes

weep bitterly before you.

Have mercy, have mercy!

Oh, how forever unhappy Ungrateful Dorilla wishes me

Oh, ever more merciless She brings me to tears

Merciless, she brings me to tears

For me, there is no relief For me, there is no hope

And the cruel torment and my sorrow Only death can console

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death. Amen.

My heart trembles, and I don't know why! My soul is anxious, but I don't know what it is. Torment and jealousy, scorn, suffering and pain, What do you want from me? If you want me to be a lover, a lover I am; but, oh God! Do not kill me, for my heart, amid such torments, will not be able to bear its bonds any longer. I know well that I give harbor to a bitter and cruel torture, and that I am dying.

Thy hand, belinda, darkness shades me On thy bosom let me rest More I would, but death invades me Death is now a welcome guest When I am laid, am laid in earth, may my wrongs create No trouble, no trouble in, in thy breast When I am laid, am laid in earth, may my wrongs create No trouble, no trouble in, in thy breast Remember me, remember me, but ah Forget my fate Remember...

Delightful rest, beloved pleasure of the soul, you cannot be found among the sins of hell, but rather in the concord of heaven; you alone strengthen the weak breast.