Cruda Amarilli

Composer: Benedetto Pallavicino (b. 1551 - d. 1601)
Share :


Composer: Benedetto Pallavicino (b. 1551 - d. 1601)

Performance date: 02/07/2019

Venue: St. Brendan’s Church

Composition Year: 1551 - 1601

Duration: 00:05:52

Recording Engineer: Gar Duffy, RTÉ

Instrumentation Category:Vocal Ensemble

Instrumentation Other: s, m, t, b

Artists: Fieri Consort (Hannah Ely, Lucy Cox [sopranos], Nancy Cole, Helen Charleston [mezzo-sopranos], Tom Kelly, Josh Cooter [tenors], Ben Mckee, Ben Rowarth [bass]) - [vocal ensemble]

Pallavicino, a more conservative composer, and a rival of Monteverdi, demonstrates in his setting of Cruda Amarilli, his frequently used device of wide interval leaps, to illustrate i monti (the mountains). This shows just how far the melody had become servant to the text. The tragicomedy play by Guarini, Il Pastor Fido,
became a popular source of inspiration for madrigal composers in the
1590s. Over the following eighty years, over five-hundred compositions
were based on texts from the play. This speech is Mirtillo’s first in
the play as he complains of his unrequited love for Amaryllis, appealing
dramatically to the mountains and streams to join him in his lamenting
as he believes she does not love him in return and never will. 
Cruda Amarilli

Cruda Amarilli,
che col nome ancora

Cruel Amarilli, who with your very name

D’amar, ahi
lasso, amaramente insegni:

Alas, give bitter instruction on love;

Amarilli del candido ligustro

Amarilli, whiter and more fair

Più candida e più

Than the white lily,

Ma dell’aspido sordo

But more deaf, more savage, more fleeting

E più sorda e più
fèra e più fugace.

Than the deaf adder:

Poiché col dir t’offendo,

Since in speaking I offend you,

I’ mi morrò tacendo.

I Shall die in silence.



Ma grideran per
me le piagg’ e i monti,

But the meadows and mountains shall cry out for me,

E questa selva a

And these woods also,

Sì spesso il tuo
bel nome

Which so oft your fair name

Di risonar insegno:

I show how to make resound;

Per me piangendo
i fonti,

For me the fountains, weeping,

E mormorando i venti,

And the winds, murmuring,

Diranno i miei lamenti;

Shall proclaim my

Parlerà nel mio volto

Pity and pain shall speak

La pietade e’l dolore,

In my countenance,

E se fia muta
ogn’altra cosa al fine,

And if all else be mute, then at last

Parlerà il mio morire,

My death shall speak,

E ti dirà
la morte il mio martire.

And death shall tell of my torment.