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L’incoronazione di PoppeaEvening Performance: Tuesday, June 9, 2015 at 7pmMatinée Performance: Sunday, June 14, 2015 at 3:30pm

Boston University Theatre, 264 Huntington Avenue, Boston, Massachusetts

FESTIVAL OPERA

Paul O’Dette and Stephen Stubbs,Musical DirectorsGilbert Blin, Stage DirectorRobert Mealy,Concertmaster

Anna Watkins, Costume Designer & SupervisorGilbert Blin, Set Designer

Lenore Doxsee, Lighting DesignerKathleen Fay, Executive ProducerEllen Hargis, Assistant Stage Director

Glenn A. KnicKrehm and Constellation CenterSponsors of The Monteverdi Trilogy

The Gregory E. Bulger FoundationSponsor of the June 14 performance of Poppea in Boston

Bernice K. and Ted ChenSponsors of Gilbert Blin, Stage Director & Set Designer

The Isaacson-Draper FoundationSponsor of Amanda Forsythe, performing the role of Poppea

Diane and John Paul BrittonSponsors of Anna Watkins, Costume Designer & Supervisor

Joan Margot SmithSponsor of Christian Immler, performing the role of Seneca

358XX BEMF Festival Book 2015_09FestBrochure 5/26/15 9:51 AM 91

la Fortuna (Fortune)la virtù (Virtue)

Mercurio (Mercury)Amore (Cupid)

Erica SchullerDanielle Reutter-HarrahJohn Taylor WardNell Snaidas

Prologue

Ottone (Otho), Knight of the highest orderDrusilla, Lady of the court in love with Ottone Due

Soldati Pretoriani, Two soldiers of the Praetorian Guard

nerone (Nero), Roman EmperorPoppea, Very noble lady and favorite of Nerone,

through whom she shall assume the crownArnalta, Old nurse and confidant of Poppea

Ottavia (Octavia), Reigning Empress, who shall be repudiated by Neronenutrice, Nurse of Empress Ottavia

Damigella, Handmaid of the Empressvalletto, the Empress’s page

Seneca, Philosopher and Nerone’s teacherPallade (Pallas Athena)

SenecaMercurio (Mercury)

Pallade (Pallas Athena) liberto, Captain of the Praetorian Guard

Coro de’ Famigliari, Chorus of devotees of Senecavalletto

Damigellanerone (Nero)

lucano (Lucan), Poet and close friend of NeroneOttavia (Octavia)

nutriceOttone (Otho)

DrusillaPoppeaArnalta

Amore (Cupid)

Nathan MedleyTeresa WakimAaron Sheehan & Zachary Wilder

David HansenAmanda Forsythe

Laura PudwellShannon Mercer

José LemosErica SchullerNell SnaidasChristian ImmlerDanielle Reutter-Harrah

Christian ImmlerJohn Taylor WardDanielle Reutter-HarrahAaron SheehanAaron Sheehan, Zachary Wilder & Marco BussiNell SnaidasErica SchullerDavid HansenZachary WilderShannon MercerJosé LemosNathan MedleyTeresa WakimAmanda ForsytheLaura PudwellNell Snaidas

Act I

Act II

Poppea cast in order of appearance

358XX BEMF Festival Book 2015_09FestBrochure 5/26/15 9:51 AM Page 192

DrusillaLa Fortuna (Fortune)

ArnaltaLittore (Lictor)Nerone (Nero)Ottone (Otho)

PoppeaAmore (Cupid)

Ottavia (Octavia)Nutrice

DamigellaValletto

Due Consoli (Two Consuls)Due Tribuni (Two Tribunes)

La Virtù (Virtue)

Teresa WakimErica SchullerLaura PudwellMarco BussiDavid HansenNathan MedleyAmanda ForsytheNell SnaidasShannon MercerJosé LemosErica SchullerNell SnaidasAaron Sheehan & Zachary WilderJohn Taylor Ward & Marco Bussi Danielle Reutter-Harrah

Act III

Boston Early Music Festival Chamber EnsembleRobert Mealy, concertmaster

Julie Andrijeski, violinLaura Jeppesen, viola

Phoebe Carrai, violoncelloRobert Nairn, double bassPaul O’Dette, chitarrone

Stephen Stubbs, chitarrone & Baroque guitarMaxine Eilander, Baroque harp

Michael Sponseller, harpsichord & virginalAlessandro Quarta, harpsichord

David Morris, lirone & violoncelloErin Headley, viola da gamba & lirone

35823 BEMF Festival Book 2015_09FestBrochure 5/28/15 10:58 AM Page 193

Summary of the Plot of Poppea

The goddesses of virtue and fortune quarrel about who is themost powerful. Amore, the god of Love, interrupts to assertthat he is more powerful than either of them, and boasts thathe will prove it to them.

Ottone, Poppea’s long-time lover, returns after a long absenceto find her having an affair with Emperor Nerone. Nerone haspromised that as soon as he can rid himself of his wife,Empress Ottavia, he will marry Poppea and put her on thethrone. The emperor ignores the advice of his tutor Seneca,who has tried to dissuade him, and Nerone orders him tocommit suicide.

Ottavia plots to have Ottone kill Poppea. Drusilla, who lovesOttone, helps disguise him with her own clothing. Amoreintervenes, the plot is foiled, and Drusilla is accused of thecrime. When Ottavia is revealed as the perpetrator, Ottone asksto be exiled together with Drusilla, whom he realizes he loves.Ottavia is banished from the realm, and Poppea is crownedEmpress of Rome. u

—Ellen Hargis

Synopsis of Poppea

Prologue

The goddesses of virtue and fortune acrimoniously debate whois the more powerful of the two. Amore, the god of Love joinsthe argument and boasts that he is the one who prevail inheaven and on earth. The two goddesses concede hissupremacy, but Amore proposes a challenge and lays a wager:in one day, he will defeat both and will change the face of theworld.

Act I

Just before dawn, Ottone returns to Rome from his foreignexploits, full of desire for Poppea, but discovers some servantsof Emperor Nerone in front of her rooms. He realizes thatPoppea is having an affair with Nerone. The emperor’s guardscomplain about their obligations, curse Amore, Nerone, andthe scandal of his affair with Poppea, while detailing theempire’s deteriorating condition. They also gossip about thestatesman Seneca, whom they blame for the government’scorruption. They are silenced by the appearance of Neronewho bids farewell to Poppea, promising her that as soon as hecan repudiate his wife, he will crown Poppea Empress ofRome. Nerone returns to his imperial duties, and Poppeagloats to her nurse Arnalta that she will soon realize herambitions to be crowned. Arnalta cautions her that the currentempress, Ottavia, has discovered her affair with Nerone, butPoppea insists that Amore and Fortuna will do battle for hercause.

The scorned Empress Ottavia laments her state: she railsagainst Nerone and Poppea, and curses the fate of women.Ottavia’s nurse enters and tries to console her, suggesting thatshe take a lover of her own in revenge. The empress disdains

this vulgar advice. Seneca, Nerone’s tutor, philosophizes thatOttavia’s tears are unworthy of an empress; he advises stoicdignity in the face of adversity. Ottavia rejects these ideas asspecious and useless to her suffering and asks Seneca to pleadher cause to the Senate. The page Valletto mocks Seneca, andthreatens to harass him unless he helps the empress. Seneca, leftalone, mulls over the weight of imperial duties. The goddessPallade appears to Seneca and warns him of ominous tidings.She announces that if today should bring his death, Mercurioshall visit him when it is the hour for him to die.

Nerone enters, and announces to Seneca his intention todivorce Ottavia and marry Poppea. Seneca warns him that hisjudgment is affected by his feelings. Nerone retorts that hispowers are above the law, and angrily ends the argument byinsisting that he will have his own way. The emperor then goesto find comfort with his mistress: Poppea, aware that Senecais an obstacle to her ambition, suggests to Nerone that Senecaboasts of being the real power behind the throne. Nerone,outraged, commands that Seneca commit suicide immediatelyfor his treason.

Ottone complains to Poppea of her infidelity to him; she tellshim that it is Fortuna’s doing, not hers, as she must follow herfate. He persists until, weary of his entreaties, Poppea declaresshe belongs to Nerone. Arnalta is filled with compassion forOttone, and leaves the unfortunate lover to rage aboutPoppea’s deception. Ottone starts to fear for his own life, as heis an obstacle to Poppea’s ambition. Drusilla, a lady at court inlove with Ottone, wonders why he continues to be faithful tothe fickle Poppea. Drusilla is overjoyed when Ottone claims tobe free now to love her, but he admits to himself that he is stillin love with Poppea, and blames Amore for his plight.


Act II

The god Mercurio appears to Seneca and tells him of hisimpending death, but promises him immortality. Liberto, acaptain in the Praetorian Guard, arrives to deliver the news toSeneca that Nerone has demanded his suicide. Seneca’s circletries to persuade him against it, praising the simple joys of life,but he stoically accepts his fate.

Damigella, a maid to the empress, and Valletto, the page,engage in youthful flirtation. They tease and play, then leavetogether to enjoy their love. Nerone celebrates Seneca’s deathand orders his friend, the poet Lucano, to sing in praise ofPoppea’s beauty. The emperor himself composes an ode to thecharms of his mistress. Meanwhile, Ottavia, mad with jealousy,plots to kill Poppea. She commands Ottone to do the deed,counseling him to disguise himself in women’s clothing inorder to go unnoticed by Nerone. Ottone protests, but Ottaviathreatens to accuse him of rape if he doesn’t comply. Ottonedespairs at having to kill the woman he still loves.

Drusilla rejoices at her good fortune, remembering Ottone’svow of love. Valletto teases the nurse of the empress about herold age; the wise and sympathetic nurse encourages Drusilla topursue her love. Ottone, torn between his feelings for Poppeaand fear of Ottavia’s punishment, arrives to tell Drusilla of hisdreaded task. The young lady offers to help by giving himsome of her clothing to wear as a disguise.

Poppea invokes Love to help her become empress. Arnalta stillcautions her against ambition, but Poppea will not be swayed.

She lies down to rest, while Arnalta sings a lullaby. As Poppeasleeps, Amore is watching, and ready to guard her. Ottone slipsin, disguised as Drusilla. As he is about to stab Poppea, the godof Love awakens her, and she calls out in alarm. Theassassination foiled, Ottone, unrecognized, flees as Arnaltascreams for help. Amore congratulates himself on his success,and vows that he shall make Poppea Empress.

Act III

Drusilla is rejoicing, believing her rival to be dead, whenArnalta appears and accuses her of attempted murder; Littorearrests the young lady. Brought before Nerone, Drusillaconfesses to the deed in order to protect Ottone. Ottonearrives, protesting and claiming to be the guilty party, butreveals that he was acting under Ottavia’s orders. Nerone nowhas a reason to repudiate Ottavia, and in his mercy, merelycondemns Ottone and Drusilla to exile. Nerone formallydivorces Ottavia, and banishes her from the Empire.

The emperor then tells Poppea that he is free to marry her andmake her empress. Defeated, Ottavia bids an anguishedfarewell to Rome, while Arnalta boasts that she has risen insocial position and is now a fine lady.

The tribunes and consuls crown Poppea Empress of Rome,Amore sings of his triumph, and Poppea and Nerone expresstheir love for each other. u

—Gilbert Blin and Ellen Hargis


Dramatis Personae:

la Fortuna (Fortune)la virtù (Virtue)Amore (Cupid)Ottone (Otho), Knight of the highest orderTwo soldiers of the Praetorian guardPoppea, Very noble lady and favorite of Nerone,

through whom she shall assume the crownnerone (Nero), Roman EmperorArnalta, Old nurse and confidant of PoppeaOttavia (Octavia), Reigning Empress,

who shall be repudiated by Neronenutrice, Nurse of Empress OttaviaSeneca, Philosopher and Nerone’s teachervalletto, the Empress’s pagePallade (Pallas Athena)Drusilla, Lady of the court in love with OttoneMercurio (Mercury)liberto, Captain of the Praetorian guardDamigella, Handmaid of the Empresslucano (Lucan), Poet and close friend of Neronelittore (Lictor)Chorus of devotees of SenecaTwo ConsulsTwo TribunesChorus

Personae:

La Fortuna La Virtù AmoreOttone, Cavaliero principalissimoDue Soldati PretorianiPoppea, Dama nobilissima favorita di Nerone,

che da lui viene assunta all’imperio Nerone, Imperator romano Arnalta, Vecchia nutrice e consigliera di Poppea Ottavia, Imperatrice regnante,

che viene repudiata da Nerone Nutrice di Ottavia imperatrice Seneca, Filosofo, maestro di Nerone Valletto, Paggio dell’imperatrice PalladeDrusilla, Dama di corte innamorata d’Ottone Mercurio Liberto, Capitano della guardia de’ Pretoriani Damigella dell’imperatrice Lucano, Poeta familiar di Nerone LittoreCoro de’ Famigliari di Seneca Due Consoli Due Tribuni Coro

LIBRETTO

L’incoronazione di PoppeaThe Coronation of Poppea

Opera in one Prologue and three Acts

by Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643)Libretto by Giovanni Francesco Busenello (ca. 1598–1659)

Compiled for the Boston Early Music Festival from the Venice and Naples scores and the Udine librettoEnglish translation and supertitles by Ellen Hargis

First Performance: Venice, Teatro SS Giovanni e Paolo – Grimani, carnival 1643


PROlOGuE

Fortuna, virtù, Amore.

Sinfonia

FortunaHide yourself, O Virtù! Fallen into poverty, Deity believed in by none, Goddess without a temple, Divinity without worshippers or altars, Wasted, Forgotten, Abhorred, Disagreeable, And as far as I can see, always scorned! Once a queen, now a commoner, In order to buy your food and clothing, You have sold your rights and titles.Any of your followers Who disagree with me Resemble painted fire Which neither warms nor glows, But is a dull color, Lacking light. He who professes Virtù may never hope To possess any wealth or glory If he is not protected by Fortuna!

virtùOh, sink down, low-born creature, Delusion of the people, Made a goddess by fools! I am the true ladder Through whom Nature ascends to the highest Good. I am the North Wind Which alone reveals to the human intellect The art of sailing towards Olympus. It can be said (without a bit of flattery) That my pure, uncorruptible essence Makes me the equivalent of a god,A thing none can say of you, Fortuna!

AmoreWhy do you believe, O goddesses, That dominion over the whole worldIs divided between you, Excluding Amore, A god so much greater than you both? I teach virtues, I control fortunes; This childish shape Vanquishes antiquity,

PROLOGO

Fortuna, Virtù, Amore.

Sinfonia

FortunaDeh, nasconditi, o Virtù,Già caduta in povertà,Non creduta deità,Nume ch’è senza tempio,Diva senza devoti, e senza altari,Dissipata, Disprezzata,Abborrita,Mal gradita,Ed in mio paragon sempre schernita. Già regina, hor plebea, che per comprarti Gl’alimenti e le vestiI privilegi e i titoli vendesti.Ogni tuo professore,Se da me sta divisoSembra un foco dipintoChe nè scalda, nè splende,Resta un color sepoltoIn penuria di luce.Chi professa Virtù non speri mai Di posseder ricchezza, o gloria alcuna,Se protetto non è dalla Fortuna!

VirtùDeh, sommergiti, malnata,Rea chimera delle genti,Fatta Dea degl’imprudenti.Io son la vera scala,Per cui natura al sommo ben ascende.Io son la tramontana, Che sola insegno agl’intelletti humaniL’arte del navigar verso l’Olimpo.Può dirsi, senza adulazione alcuna,Il puro incorrutibil esser mioTermine convertibile con Dio,Che ciò non si può dir di te, Fortuna.

AmoreChe vi credete, o Dee, Divider tra di voi del mondo tuttoLa signoria, e’l governo,Escludendone Amore,Nume, ch’è d’ambi voi tanto è maggiore?Io le virtuti insegno,Io le fortune domo,Questa bambina etàVince d’antichità


Time, and every other god: Eternity and I are twins. Revere me, Adore me, And call me your sovereign.

Fortuna and virtùThere is no mortal or divine heartThat dares contend with Amore.

AmoreToday, in one day’s time,Both of you, vanquished by me,Shall admit that the world changes at my beck and call.

ACT I

SCEnE I

Ritornello

OttoneAnd so I return here, like a radius to the center, Like fire to the sun, and like a brook to the sea And though I can see no light, I know that my sun is within.

Ritornello

Dear, beloved home, Seat of my life and love,My footsteps and my heart are drawn to you.

Ritornello

Open a window, Poppea:With your beautiful eyes, my fates,Forestall and outshine the dawn, my soul!

Ritornello

O dreams, in sweet fantasy Carry these sighs to my beloved On your wings.But what do I see, wretched me?Not phantoms or ghosts—These are Nerone’s servants; Alas, thus to the unfeeling winds I bewail my sorrows.I ask the stones to pity me;I worship marble walls;With my tears I court a window,While Nerone sleeps in Poppea’s lap.

Il tempo, e ogn’altro Dio:Gemelli siam l’Eternitade ed io.Riveritemi, Adoratemi,E di vostro sovrano il nome datemi.

Fortuna e VirtùUman non è, non è celeste core,Che contender ardisca con Amore.

AmoreOggi in un sol certame,L’un e l’altra di voi da me abbatutta,Dirà, che’l mondo a’ cenni miei si muta.

ATTO PRIMO

ScenA I

Ritornello

OttoneE pur io torno quì, qual linea al centro,Qual foco a sfera e qual ruscello al mare,E se ben luce alcuna non m’appare,Ah’! so ben io, che sta’l mio Sol qui dentro.

Ritornello

Caro tetto amoroso,Albergo di mia vita, e del mio bene,Il passo e’l cor ad inchinarti viene.

Ritornello

Apri un balcon, Poppea, Col bel viso in cui son le sorte mie,Previeni, anima mia, precorri il die.

Ritornello

Sogni, portate a volo, sù l’ali vostre in dolce fantasiaQuesti sospir alla diletta mia.Ma che veggio, infelice?Non già fantasmi o pur notturne larve,Son questi i servi di Nerone; ahi dunqueAgl’ insensati ventiIo diffondo i lamenti.Necessito le pietre a deplorarmi.Adoro questi marmi,Amoreggio con lagrime un balcone,E in grembo di Poppea dorme Nerone.


Ah, ah, perfida Poppea,Son queste le promesse e i giuramenti,Ch’accessero il cor mio?Questa è la fede, O dio, dio, dio!Io son quell’ Ottone,Che ti seguì,Che ti bramò,Che ti servì, quell’ OttonChe t’adorò,Che per piegarti e intenerirti il coreDi lagrime imperlò preghi devoti,Gli spirti a te sacrificando i voti.M’assicurasti al fineCh’abbracciato avrei nel tuo bel senoLe mie beatitudini amorose;Io di credula speme il seme sparsi,Ma l’aria e’l cielo a’ danno miei rivolto…

SCENA IIOttone, due Soldati.

Primo SoldatoChi parla?

Ottone…Tempestò di ruine…

Primo SoldatoChi parla?

Ottone…il mio raccolto.

Primo SoldatoChi va lì?

Secondo SoldatoCamerata?

Primo SoldatoOhimè, ancor non è di!

Secondo SoldatoCamerata, che fai?Perchè parli sognando?

Primo SoldatoSorgono pur dell’alba i primi rai.

Secondo SoldatoSù, risvegliati tosto…

Ah, ah, wicked Poppea, Are these the vows and promises Which inflamed my heart?Is this the fidelity?O gods!I am that Ottone Who followed you,Who longed for you, Who served you; that OttoneWho adored you;Who, to woo you and soften your heart,Adorned his devoted entreaties with tears,Sacrificing his spirit to you in vows!You promised me, at last, That clasped to your beautiful bosom, I would find my love’s bliss.I sowed the seeds of gullible hope:But the winds and heavens turned to harm me…

SCENE IIOttone, two soldiers.

Primo SoldatoWho speaks?

Ottone…bringing storms to destroy…

Primo SoldatoWho speaks?

Ottone…my harvest.

Primo SoldatoWho goes there?

Secondo SoldatoComrade?

Primo Soldato Alas, it isn’t day yet.

Secondo SoldatoWhat are you doing, friend? Why are you talking in your sleep?

Primo SoldatoThe first rays of dawn appear.

Secondo SoldatoCome on, get up…


Primo SoldatoNon ho dormito in questa notte mai.

Secondo Soldato…Sù, risvegliati tosto,Guardiamo il nostro posto.

Primo SoldatoSia maledetto Amor, Poppea, Nerone,E Roma, e la militia,Soddisfar io no posso alla pigritia Un giorno, un’ora, solo.

Secondo SoldatoLa nostra Imperatrice Stilla se stessa in pianti,E Neron per Poppea la vilipende;L’Armenia si ribella,Ed egli non ci pensa.La Pannonia dà all’armi, ed ei se ne ride,Così, per quant’io veggio,L’Imperio se ne va da male impeggio.

Primo SoldatoDì pur che il Prence nostro rubba a tutti Per donar ad alcuni;L’innocenza và afflittaE i scellerati stan sempre a mandritta.

Secondo SoldatoSol del pedante Seneca si fida.

Primo SoldatoDi quel vecchio rapace?

Secondo SoldatoDi quel volpon sagace.

Primo SoldatoDi quel reo cortigian’ Che fonda il suo guadagnoSu’l tradir’ il compagno!

Secondo SoldatoDi quell’ empio architetto Che si fà casa sui sepolcri altrui!

Primo SoldatoNon ridir quel che diciamoNel fidarti va scaltro;Se gl’occhi non si fidan l’un dell’altroE però nel guardar van sempr’ insieme.

Primo SoldatoI didn’t sleep a wink all night.

Secondo Soldato…Come on, get up,Let’s guard our post.

Primo SoldatoCurse love, Poppea, Nerone, Rome, and the army, I can’t indulge myself in laziness For a day, or even an hour.

Secondo SoldatoOur Empress Is dissolved in tears,And Nerone humiliates her for Poppea.Armenia is in rebellion, And he doesn’t give it a thought.Pannonia is in arms, and he laughs about it.As far as I can see The Empire is going from bad to worse.

Primo SoldatoNot to mention that our prince robs the many To give to the few; Innocence is abused And villains always win out.

Secondo SoldatoHe only trusts that pedant Seneca.

Primo SoldatoThat greedy old man?

Secondo SoldatoThat crafty fox.

Primo SoldatoThat wicked courtier Who profitsBy betraying his friends!

Secondo SoldatoThat evil architect Who builds his house on other people’s graves!

Primo SoldatoDo not repeat this;When you trust, proceed with caution.One eye doesn’t trust the other, And yet when they watch, they always work together.


Primo e Secondo SoldatoImpariamo dagl’occhi,A non trattar da sciocchi.

Primo SoldatoMa, già s’imbianca l’alba, e vien’ il dì;

Primo e Secondo SoldatoTaciam, Neron’ è qui.

ScenA IIIPoppea, nerone.

PoppeaSignor, deh non partire,Sostien che queste bracciaTi circondino il collo,Come le tue bellezzeCircondano il cor mio.

neronePoppea, lascia ch’io parta.

PoppeaNon partir, Signor, deh non partire.Appena spunta l’alba, e tu che seiL’incarnato mio sole,La mia palpabil luce,E l’amoroso dì della mia vita,Vuoi sì repente far da me partita?Deh non dir di partir,Che di voce sì amara à un solo accento,Ahi perir, ahi spirar quest’alma io sento.

neroneLa nobiltà de’ nascimenti tuoiNon permette che RomaSappia che siamo uniti,In sin ch’Ottavia…

PoppeaIn sin che…

nerone…in sin ch’Ottavia non rimane esclusa…

PoppeaNon rimane…

nerone…in sin ch’Ottavia non rimane esclusaDal repudio da me.

PoppeaVanne, vanne ben mio.

Primo and Secondo SoldatoLet’s learn from our eyes Not to act like fools.

Primo SoldatoBut the dawn is breaking now and the day is coming;

Primo and Secondo SoldatoHush—Nerone is here.

SCEnE IIIPoppea, nerone.

Poppea My lord, ah, do not leave,Let my arms Entwine your neck,As your beauty Entwines my heart.

neronePoppea, let me leave.

Poppea Do not leave, my lord, ah, do not leave. The dawn is just breaking, and you who areMy sun incarnate,My light made tangible, And the beloved day of my life, Why do you wish to leave me?Ah, do not say that you are leaving,For at the sound of that bitter word,Alas, I feel my soul perish.

neroneThe fact that you are nobly born Means that Rome Must not know that we are togetherAs long as Ottavia…

Poppea As long as…

nerone…as long as Ottavia has yet to be banished…

Poppea…yet to be banished…

nerone…as long as Ottavia has yet to be banishedFrom me by divorce.

PoppeaGo, go, my beloved.


Sinfonia

neroneIn un sospir che vienDal profondo del sen,Includo un bacio, o cara, ed un à dio:Ci rivedrem ben tosto, idolo mio.

Sinfonia

PoppeaSignor, sempre mi vedi,Anzi mai non mi vedi,Perchè s’è ver, che nel tuo cor’ io sia,Entro al tuo sen celata,Non posso da tuoi lumi esser mirata.

neroneAdorati miei rai, Deh restatevi omai!Rimanti, ò mia Poppea, Cor, vezzo, e luce mia…

PoppeaDeh non dirDi partir,Che di voce sì amara à un solo accento,Ahi perir, ahi spirar quest’alma sento.

neroneNon temer, tu stai meco a tutte l’ore,Splendor negl’occhi, e deità nel core.

PoppeaTornerai?

neroneSe ben io vòPur teco stò.

PoppeaTornerai?

neroneIl cor dalle tue stelleMai non si disvelle.

PoppeaTornerai?

neroneIo non posso da te viver disgiuntoSe non si smembra la unità del punto.

Sinfonia

neroneIn a sigh that comes From the bottom of my heart, I enclose a kiss, my dear, and a farewell.We shall meet again soon, my idol.

Sinfonia

Poppea My lord, you always see me,Yet you never see me,For if it is true that I am in your heart, Hidden in your bosom, I am invisible to your eyes.

neroneMy beloved eyes, Ah, then cease now!You remain, Oh my Poppea, My heart, my darling, my light…

Poppea Ah, do not say That you are leaving,For at the sound of that bitter word,Alas, I feel my soul perish.

nerone Fear not; you are always with me,The light in my eyes, and a goddess in my heart.

Poppea Will you return?

nerone Even if I go, I am still with you.


nerone My heart can never be separated From your eyes.


nerone I cannot live apart from youAny more than a pinpoint can be divided from itself.



nerone I will return.

Poppea When?

nerone Very soon!

Poppea Very soon.Do you promise me?

nerone I swear to you!

Poppea And will you keep your word?

nerone If I do not come to you, you will come to me.

Poppea Goodbye.

nerone Goodbye.

PoppeaNerone, Nerone, goodbye…

neronePoppea, Poppea, goodbye…

PoppeaGoodbye, Nerone, goodbye.

neroneGoodbye, Poppea, my dear.

SCEnE IvPoppea, Arnalta.

Ritornello

Poppea O Hope, you Caress my heart,

Ritornello

PoppeaTornerai?

neroneTornerò!

PoppeaQuando?

neroneBen tosto!

PoppeaBen tosto.Me’l prometti?

neroneTe’l giuro!

PoppeaE me l’osserverai?

neroneE s’a te non verrò, tu à me verrai.

PoppeaA’dio

neroneA’dio

PoppeaNerone, Nerone, addio…

neronePoppea, Poppea, addio…

Poppea Addio, Nerone, addio.

neroneAddio, Poppea, ben mio.

ScenA IVPoppea, Arnalta.

Ritornello

PoppeaSperanza, tu mi vaiIl cor accarezzando,

Ritornello


PoppeaO Hope, you Seduce my mind,And you wrap me With a royal, but imaginary mantle.No, no, I fear no adversity; Amore and Fortuna do battle for me.

Sinfonia

Arnalta Ah child, I hope to Heaven That this affairIs not your downfall one day!

PoppeaNo, no, I fear no adversity!

Arnalta The Empress Ottavia has discovered All of Nerone’s love affairs,So I fear and tremble That every day and every moment Could be your last.

Poppea Amore and Fortuna do battle for me!

Arnalta Associating with kings is dangerous;Love and hate have no power over them,It is their own feelings that interest them.

Ritornello

If Nerone loves you, it’s simply courtesy,If he deserts you, it’s no use complaining about it.You’re better off keeping quiet.

Poppea No, no, I fear no adversity!

Arnalta You disgrace yourself when you say,

“Nerone possesses me.”Ambitious vices are useless!I like constructive sins better.

Ritornello

You can never be his equal,And if marriage is your goal,You’re asking for your own ruin.

PoppeaSperanza, tu mi vaiIl genio lusingando,E mi circondi intantoDi regio sì, ma imaginario manto.Nò, nòn temo, nò, di noia alcuna,Per me guerreggia Amor, e la Fortuna.

Sinfonia

ArnaltaAhi figlia, voglia il cielo,Che questi abbracciamentiNon sian’ un giorno i precipizi tuoi.

PoppeaNò, nòn temo, nò, di noia alcuna,

ArnaltaL’Imperatrice Ottavia hà penetratiDi Neron gli amori,Ond’io pavento e temoCh’ogni giorno, ogni puntoSia di tua vita il giorno, e’l punto estremo.

PoppeaPer me guerreggia Amor, e la Fortuna.

ArnaltaLa pratica coi Regi è perigliosa,L’amor e l’odio non han forza in essi,Sono gli affetti lor puri interessi.

Ritornello

Se Neron t’ama, è mera cortesia,S’ei t’abbandona, non t’en puoi dolere.Per minor mal ti converrà tacere.

PoppeaNò, nòn temo, nò, di noia alcuna.

ArnaltaPerdi l’onor con dir,

Neron mi gode.Son inutili i vitii ambiziosi! Mi piaccion più i peccati fruttuosi.

Ritornello

Con lui tu non puoi mai trattar del pari,E se le nozze hai per oggetto e fine, Mendicando tu vai le tue ruine.


PoppeaNò, nòn temo, nò, di noia alcuna.

ArnaltaMira, mira Poppea,Dov’il prato è più ameno e dilettoso,Stass’il serpent’ ascoso. Dei casi le vicende son funeste;La calma è profezia delle tempeste.

PoppeaNò, nòn temo, nò, di noia alcuna,Per me guerreggia Amor, e la Fortuna.

ArnaltaBen sei pazza, se crediChe ti possano far contenta e salvaUn garzon cieco ed una donna calva.Ben sei pazza se credi.

ScenA VOttavia, nutrice.

OttaviaDisprezzata regina,Del monarca romano afflitta moglie,Che fò, ove son, che penso?O delle donne miserabil sesso,Se la natura e’l cieloLibere ci produce,Il matrimonio c’incatena serve;Se concepiamo l’uomo,O delle donne miserabil sesso,Al nostr’empio tiran formiam le membra,Allattiamo il carnefice crudeleChe ci scarna e ci svena,E siam costrette per indegna sorteA noi medesme partorir la morte.Nerone, empio Nerone,Nerone, ò Dio, maritoBestemmiato pur sempre E maledetto dai cordogli miei,Dove, ohimè, dove sei?In braccio di Poppea,Tu dimori felice e godi, e intantoIl frequente cader de’ pianti mieiPur và quasi formandoUn diluvio di specchi, in cui tu miri,Dentro alle tue delitie i miei martiri.Destin, se stai lassù, Giove ascoltami tu,Se per punir NeroneFulmini tu non hai,D’impotenza t’accuso,D’ingustitia t’incolpo,

Poppea No, no, I fear no adversity!

Arnalta Look, Poppea,Where the meadow is most pleasant and delightful,There the serpent is hidden.Turns of fate can be deadly;Calm comes before the storm.

Poppea I fear no adversity!Amore and Fortuna do battle for me.

Arnalta You must be crazy indeed if you believe That you can be made happy and kept safe By a bald woman and a blind boy!You must be crazy indeed if you believe that.

SCEnE vOttavia, nutrice.

OttaviaDespised queen, Tormented wife of the Roman emperor, What am I doing, where am I, what am I thinking? O wretched fate of the fair sex,If nature and heaven Create us free, Marriage enchains us; If we conceive a male,O wretched fate of the fair sex,We shape the limbs of our own wicked tyrant, We nurture the cruel executioner Who butchers us and bleeds usAnd we are forced by FateTo give birth to our own death. Nerone, wicked Nerone, Nerone, O God, husbandBlasphemed for everAnd cursed by my sorrow, Alas, where are you? You linger in Poppea’s arms Happy, enjoying yourself, While the stream of my tears Creates a sort of Deluge of mirrors in which you may beholdMy suffering amidst your happiness.Fate, if you are there, Jove, hear me,If you have no thunderbolts To punish Nerone, I accuse you of impotence,I blame you for injustice!


Ahi, trapasso tropp’oltre e me ne pento,Sopprimo e seppeliscoIn taciturne angoscie il mio lamento.

nutriceOttavia, Ottavia,

OttaviaÒ ciel, deh, l’ira tua s’estingua,Non provi i tuoi rigori il fallo mio!

nutriceOttavia, ò tu dell’universe gentiUnica Imperatrice…

OttaviaErrò la superficie, il fondo è pio,Innocente fù il cor, peccò la lingua.

nutriceOdi, odiDi tua fida nutrice, odi gl’accenti.Se Neron pers’ha l’ingegno, Di Poppea ne’ godimenti, Scegli alcun, che di te degno,D’abbracciarti si contenti.Se l’ingiuria a Neron tanto diletta,Abbi piacer tu ancor Nel far vendetta.

Ritornello

E se pur aspro rimorso Dell’onor t’arreca noia,Fa riflesso al mio discorso,Ch’ogni duol ti sarà gioia.

OttaviaCosi sozzi argomentiNon intesi più mai da te, nutrice.

nutriceFa, fa riflesso al mio discorso,Ch’ogni duol ti sarà gioia.L’infamia sta gl’affronti in sopportarsi,E consiste l’onor nel vendicarsi.Han poi questo vantaggioDelle regine gli amorosi errori,Se gli sà l’idiota, non li crede,Se l’astuto gli penetra, gli tace,E’l peccato taciuto e non credutoSta segreto e sicuro in ogni parte,Com’un che parla in mezzo un sordo, e un muto.

Alas, I’ve gone too far, and I repent, I shall suppress and bury My lament in silent anguish.

nutrice Ottavia, Ottavia,

Ottavia O Heaven, ah, assuage your anger, May my transgression not test your severity!

nutrice Ottavia, you who are sole EmpressOf all the people…

Ottavia The outward erred, the inward is devout, The heart was innocent, the tongue sinned.

nutrice Hear, hearThe words of your faithful nurse. If Nerone has lost his wits With Poppea, Choose someone worthy of you, One who will be happy to embrace you. If Nerone is so determined to hurt you, You too may have the pleasure Of taking revenge.

Ritornello

And if you are troubled By bitter remorse,Reflect on my words, So that every sorrow will become joy.

Ottavia Never have I heard Such disgusting advice from you, nurse.

nutrice Reflect on my words, So that every sorrow will become joy. Shame makes these insults intolerable,And revenge will restore your honor.These amorous errors of queens Have this advantage, then:If a fool knows something, he doesn’t believe it,If a clever fellow figures it out, he keeps it to himself.The unspoken sin is not believed,It is secret and secure everywhere,As if spoken between a deaf person and a mute.


Ottavia Oh, my dear nurse: The woman who is slandered by her husband’sAdulterous inclinations Is certainly abused, but not shamed.On the contrary,The husband is dishonored If the marital bed is defiled.

nutrice My child and Mistress, you don’t understandThe first rule of revenge.The offence Of a mere slap in the faceShould be avenged with the sword and death.If he wounds your feelings, Wound his honor,Although, to tell the truth,Even this won’t truly avenge you;Nerone hurts your deepest feelings, And you will only hurt his reputation.Reflect on my words, So that every sorrow will become joy.

Ottavia If there were neither honor nor God, I would be my own Deity, and I would punish My sins with my own hand.Therefore, apart from my transgressions, I divide my heart between innocence and tears.

SCEnE vISeneca, Ottavia, valletto.

Seneca Behold the unhappy Lady, Raised to the seat of the Empire Only to endure servitude. O glorious Empress of the world, Higher than the exalted titles Of your noble, distinguished, and eminent ancestors, The vanity of tearsIs an unworthy occupation for royal eyes.You should thank Fortuna, Who increases your dignity With her blows.The flint that is not struck Cannot give off sparks; You, stricken by destiny, Produce the lofty splendors Of strength and dominion, Glories much greater than beauty.

OttaviaO, mia cara nutrice:La donna assassinata del maritoPer adultere brame,Resta oltraggiata sì, ma non infamePer il contrario restaLo sposo inonorato,Se’l letto marital gli vien macchiato.

nutriceFiglia e Signora mia, tu non intendi, no,Della vendetta il principal arcano.L’offesa sopra il voltoD’una sola guanciataSi vendica col ferro e con la morte.Chi ti punge nel senso,Pungilo nell’onore,Se ben’à dirt’il vero,Nè pur così sarai ben vendicata;Nel senso vivo te punge Nerone,E in lui sol pungerai l’opinione.Fa riflesso al mio discorso,Ch’ogni duol ti sarà gioia.

OttaviaSe non ci fosse nè l’onor, nè Dio,Sarei Nume a me stessa, e i falli mieiCon la mia stessa man castigherei,E però lunge dagli errori intanto Divido il cor tra l’innocenza e’l pianto.

ScenA VISeneca, Ottavia, Valletto.

SenecaEcco la sconsolataDonna, assunta a l’ImperoPer patir il servaggio, o gloriosaDel mondo imperatrice,Sovra i titoli eccelsiDegl’insigni avi tuoi conspicua e grande,La vanità del piantoDegl’ occhi imperiali è ufficio indegno.Ringrazia la fortuna,Che con i colpi suoiT’accresce gl’ornamenti.La cote non percossaNon può mandar faville;Tu dal destin colpitaProduci a te medesma alti splendoriDi vigor, di fortezza,Glorie maggiori assai, che la bellezza.


Ottavia You promise me Balm from poison, And glories from torments. Pardon me, my Seneca,These are False conceits, Artificial analyses: Remedies useless to the unhappy.

valletto Madam, by your leave, I must vent my irritation, which is riledBy this clever philosopher, this mocker of Jove. This miniaturist of charming witticisms Burns me up with contempt. I cannot stay at my post While he beguiles others with fancy words! These mere inventions of his brain, He sells as mysteries, and they are ditties! Madam, if he sneezes or yawns He supposes that he is teaching morals; And he gets so ridiculously subtle, That it moves my boots to laughter.

Ottavia Nerone is trying to divorceMy person To marry Poppea; Let him enjoy himself then, If so unworthy a specimen can enjoy himself thus. Intercede for me with the people and the senate For I shall return to offer prayers at the temple.

valletto If you do not help our Queen, Then, by my faith, I will light a fire In your beard and in your library!

SCEnE vIISeneca.

SenecaThe imperial purple of royalty,Under the guise of a garment,When challenged by trials and tribulations,Is a torment to unhappy princes.Wearing distinguished crownsServes only to increase their miseries.When it comes to Royal grandeur,The pomp and splendor may be seen,But the sorrows are always invisible.

OttaviaTu mi vai promettendoBalsamo dal veleno,E glorie da tormenti.Scusami, questi son, Seneca mio,Vanità speciose,Studiati artifici,Inutili rimedi agl’infelici.

Valletto Madama, con tua pace,Io vo’ sfogar la stizza, che mi moveIl filosofo astuto, il gabba Giove.M’accende pur’a sdegno,Questo miniator di bei concetti.Non posso star’al segno,Mentre egli incanta altrui con aurei detti.Queste del suo cervel mere invenzioni, Le vende per misteri e son canzoni!Madama, s’ei sternuta o s’ei sbadigliaPresume d’insegnar cose morali,E tanto l’assotiglia,Che moverebbe il riso a’ miei stivali.

OttaviaNeron tenta il ripudio De la persona miaPer isposar Poppea.Si divertisca,Se divertir si può sì indegno esempio.Tu per me prega il popol e’l senato,Ch’io mi riduco a porger voti al tempio.

Valletto Se tu non dai soccorsoAlla nostra Regina, in fede mia,Che vo’accenderti il foco,E nella barba, e nella libraria…in fede mia.

ScenA VIISeneca.

SenecaLe porpore regali e imperatrici,D’acute spine e triboli conteste,Sotto forma di vesteSon’il martirio a prencipi infelici; Le corone eminentiServono solo a indiademar tormenti.Delle Regie grandezzeSi veggono le pompe e gli splendori,Ma stan’ sempr’invisibili i dolori.


SCEnE vIIIPallade, Seneca.

Pallade Seneca, I see unfavorable omens in the heavensWhich threaten you with great disaster;If today you are to see the end of your life,Mercurio shall first inform you of it.

SenecaMay death come then; steadfast and strong, I shall conquer both fear and the blows of fate.

SCEnE Ixnerone, Seneca.

nerone I am resolved at last, Seneca, my teacher,To remove Ottavia From her role as consort, And to marry Poppea.

Seneca Sir, at the bottom of great delight Regret often lies hidden. Emotion is a wicked counselor That despises laws and scorns reason.

nerone Law is for those who serve, and if I wish to,I can abolish the old And impose the new.The Empire is divided: heaven is Jove’s, But the earthly realm is mine.

Seneca Unrestrained will is not will But (may I say, by your leave) it is madness.

nerone Reason is a strict master For him who obeys, not for him who commands.

Seneca On the contrary, irrational commandDestroys obedience.

nerone Enough discussion, I want my own way!

Seneca Do not anger the people and the Senate.

ScenA VIIIPallade, Seneca.

Pallade Seneca, io miro in cielo infausti raiChe minacciano te d’alte ruine;S’oggi verrà della tua vita il fine,Pria da Mercurio avisi certi avrai.

SenecaVenga la morte pur costante e forte,Vincerò gli accidenti e le paure.

ScenA IXnerone, Seneca.

neroneSon risoluto al fineO Seneca, o maestro,Di rimover OttaviaDal posto di consorte,E di sposar Poppea.

SenecaSignor, nel fondo alla maggior dolcezzaSpesso giace nascosto il pentimento.Consiglier scellerato è’l sentimentoCh’odia le leggi e la ragion disprezza.

neroneLa legge è per chi serve, e se vogl’io,Posso abolir l’antica E indur la nova.È partito l’Impero; è’l ciel di Giove,Ma del mondo terren lo scettro è mio.

SenecaSregolato voler non è volere,Ma (dirò con tua pace) egl’è furore.

neroneLa ragione è misura rigorosaPer chi ubbidisce ed non per chi commanda.

SenecaAnzi l’irragionevole commando Distrugge l’ubbedienza.

neroneLascia i discorsi, io voglio à modo mio!

SenecaNon irritar il popolo e’l Senato.


nerone I don’t care about the Senate and the people.

Seneca At least care for yourself, and for your reputation.

nerone I’ll tear out the tongue of anyone who speaks against me.

Seneca The more mutes you make, the more they will talk.

nerone Ottavia is frigid and sterile.

Seneca He who is not in the right has to look for excuses.

nerone He who can do as likes does not lack any right.

Seneca Unjust deeds betray a lack of confidence.

nerone He will always be most just who is the most powerful.

Seneca But he who does not know how to govern is always

the lesser.

nerone Power is the law in peace.

Seneca Power incites hatred,

nerone …and in war, the sword…

Seneca …and boils the blood.

nerone And has no need of being right.

Seneca Reason governs men and Gods.

nerone You push me into a rage; Despite you and the people, and the Senate, And Ottavia, and Heaven, and hell, Whether my wishes be just or unjust, Today Poppea shall be my wife!

neroneDel senato e del popolo non curo.

SenecaCura almen di te stesso, e di tua fama.

neroneTrarrò la lingua a chi vorrà biasmarmi.

SenecaPiù muti che farai, più parleranno.

neroneOttavia è infrigidita ed infeconda.

SenecaChi ragione non hà, cerca pretesti.

neroneA chi può ciò che vuol ragion non manca.

SenecaManca la sicurezza all’opre ingiuste.

neroneSarà sempre più giusto il più potente.

SenecaMa chi non sà regnar sempre può meno.

neroneLa forza è legge in pace.

SenecaLa forza accende gli odi.

neronee spada in guerra,

Senecae turba il sangue.

neroneE bisogno non ha della ragione.

SenecaLa ragione regge gl’uomini e gli dei.

neroneTu mi sforzi allo sdegno; al tuo dispetto,E del popolo in onta e del SenatoE d’Ottavia, e del Cielo, e del abisso,Siansi giuste o ingiuste le mie voglie,Oggi Poppea sarà mia moglie!


Seneca Kings should be guiltless, Or at least be weighed down by noteworthy crimes;If innocence is lost, Let it be lost only to acquire Dominion,For the sin which is committed To enlarge the Empire Absolves itself; But that a silly woman should have the power To lead you into error Is not a fault worthy of Kings or Demigods; It is a common crime.

nerone Get away from me, Impertinent teacher, Insolent philosopher!

Seneca The worst side always prevails When force contends with reason.

SCEnE xPoppea, nerone, Ottone hidden.

PoppeaHow sweet, my lord, how delicious Did you find the kisses From these lips these past nights?

nerone The most precious were the most biting.

Poppea And the apples of this bosom?

nerone Your breasts deserve sweeter names.

Poppea And the sweet embraces of these arms?

nerone My idol, ah, if only I still had you In my arms!Poppea, you take my breath away; I gaze upon your lips, And gazing, I regain That burning spirit Which in kissing you, darling, I had lost in you. No longer is my destiny in Heaven, But in the beautiful ruby of your lips.

SenecaSiano innocenti i RegiO s’aggravino sol di colpe illustri; S’innocenza si perde,Perdasi sol per acquisitar i Regni,Ch’il peccato commessoPer aggrandir L’ImperoSi assolve da se stesso;Ma ch’una feminella abbia possanzaDi condurti agl’errori,Non è colpa da Regge o Semideo,È un misfatto plebeo.

neroneLevamiti dinanzi,Maestro impertinenteFilosofo insolente!

SenecaIl partito peggior sempre sovrastaQuando la forza alla ragion contrasta.

ScenA X Poppea, nerone, Ottone in disparte.

PoppeaCome dolci, Signor, come soaviRiuscirno a te le notte andate Di questa bocca i baci?

neronePiù cari i più mordaci.

PoppeaDi questo seno i pomi?

neroneMertan le mamme tue più dolci nomi.

PoppeaDi queste braccia i dolci amplessi?

neroneIdolo mio, deh in braccioancor t’avessi!Poppea, respiro appena;Miro le labbra tue,E mirando recupero con gl’occhiQuello spirto infiammato,Che nel bacciarti, ò cara, in te diffusi Non è più in Cielo il mio destino,Ma sta dei labbri tuoi nel bel rubino.

358XX BEMF Festival Book 2015_09FestBrochure 5/26/15 9:53 AM 2

Poppea My lord, your words are so sweet, That I repeat them to myself In my heart, And the inner retelling makes my loving heart swoon. I hear them as words, I enjoy them as kisses; Your precious words Are so sweet and so strong to my senses, That, not content with flattering my ears, They go on to press kisses on my heart.

nerone This lofty crown, by which I rule over Men and Kings, by the grace of Fortuna, I wish to share with you, And I shall thus be happy When you bear the title of Empress; But what am I saying, O Poppea! Rome is too small for your qualities, Italy too confined for your fame, And it is too-small praise for your beautiful faceTo be called Nerone’s bride; And your beautiful eyes have this disadvantage, That, transcending nature’s example, And for modesty’s sake, not trying to reach for the heavens, They can only receive tributes of other honors, Those of silence, and wonder.

Poppea My heart aspires to that ultimate hope Since you command it, And my modesty is reinforced; But much stands in the way of The fulfillment of your royal promise.Seneca, your teacher, That shrewd Stoic, That cunning philosopher, Is always trying to persuade others That your scepter depends on him alone.

nerone What, what?

Poppea That your scepter depends on him alone.

nerone That doddering madman…

Poppea Yes, him.

nerone …dares to say that?

PoppeaSignor, le tue parole son si dolci,Ch’io nell’anima miaLe ridico à me stessa,E l’interno ridirle necessita al deliquio il cor amante.Come parole le odo,Come baci io le godo;Son de’ tuoi cari dettiI sensi sì soavi e sì vivaci,Che, non contenti di blandir l’udito,Mi passano à stampar sul cor i baci.

neroneQuest’eccelso Diadema ond’io sovrastoDegl’uomini, e dei Regi à la Fortuna Teco divider voglio,E allor sarò feliceQuando il titol’avrai d’Imperatrice;Mà che dico, o Poppea!Troppo picciola è Roma ai merti tuoi,Troppo angust’è l’Italia alle tue lodi,E al tuo bel viso è basso paragoneL’esser detta Consorte di Nerone;E han questo svantaggio i tuoi begl’occhi,Che, trascendendo i naturali esempi,E per modestia non tentando i cieli,Non ricevon tributo d’altro onore,Che di silenzio e di stupore.

PoppeaA speranze sublimi il cor innalzoPerché tu lo commandi,E la modestia mia riceve forza;Ma troppo s’attraversa ed impedisceDelle regie promesse il fin sovrano.Seneca, il tuo Maestro,Quello stoico sagace,Quel filosofo astuto,Che sempre tenta persuader altruiCh’il tuo scettro dipende sol da lui.

neroneChe, che?

PoppeaCh’il tuo scettro dipende sol da lui.

neroneQuel decrepito pazzo…

PoppeaQuel, quel

nerone…ha tanto ardire?


Poppea He dares to say that.

nerone You there, one of you Go quickly to Seneca, And order him to die this day; I want my rule to come from me alone Not from the conceits and sophistry of others. I would easily renounceMy inherent power, if I believed That I could be manipulated To serve someone else’s motives! Poppea, be of good cheer, Today you shall see what Love can do.

SCEnE xIOttone, Poppea, Arnalta.

Ritornello

Ottone Others have the good fortuneTo drink the wine, and I may only look at the vessel; Doors stand open for Nerone, While Ottone remains outside; He sits at the table and sates his desires, While in bitter fasting I die of hunger.

Ritornello

Poppea He who is born unlucky Must blame himself, not others; Ottone, I am not the cause Of your pathetic condition,Nor have I ever have been: Destiny throws the dice and waits for the score; The outcome, whether good or bad, depends on that.

Ritornello

Ottone I hoped that the stone That encases your heart, fair Poppea, Might be softened by kind love To alleviate my suffering, But now the hard flint of your white bosomIs the tomb of my dead hopes.

Ritornello

Poppea Oh, reproach me no more; Bear your petty jealousy in peace,

PoppeaHa tanto ardire.

neroneOlà, vada un di voiA Seneca volando, e imponga a lui Ch’in questo giorno mora.Vuo che da me l’arbitrio mio dipenda,Non da concetti e da sofismi altrui,Rinnegherei per pocoLe potenze dell’alma, s’io credessiChe servilmente indegneSi movessero mai col moto d’altri Poppea, sta di buon core,Oggi vedrai ciò che sa far Amore.

ScenA XIOttone, Poppea, Arnalta.

Ritornello

OttoneAd altri tocca in sorteBere il licor, e a me guardar il vaso,Aperte stan le porteA Neron, ed Otton fuori è rimaso;Sied’egli a mensa a satollar sue brame,In amaro digiun mor’io di fame.

Ritornello

PoppeaChi nasce sfortunatoDi se stesso si dolga, e non d’altrui; Del tuo penoso statoAspra cagion, Otton, non son nè fui, Il destin getta i dadi e i punti attendeL’evento, o buono o reo, da lui dipende.

Ritornello

OttoneSperai che quel’ macigno,Bella Poppea, che ti circonda il core,Fosse d’amor benignoIntenerito a pro del mio dolore,Or del tuo bianco sen la selce duraDi mie morte speranze è sepoltura.

Ritornello

PoppeaDeh, non più rinfacciarmi,Porta, deh porta il martellin’in pace,


Stop pressuring me.Poppea is under imperial orders now. Cool down, moderate your disdain: I’m leaving you for a throne.

Ottone And thus ambition Holds sway over every other vice!

Poppea Thus my reason Blames the whims of your insanity!

Ottone Is this the reward for my love?

Poppea Come now, be civil!


Poppea Come now, no more,


Poppea No more, I am Nerone’s.

SCEnE xIIArnalta, Ottone.

ArnaltaUnhappy boy,I pity the poor thing.Poppea is out of her mind Not to have mercy on him.When I was youngerI didn’t want my loversReduced to tears,Out of compassion, I made them all happy.

Ottone Ottone, return to your senses,The less perfect sexBy its nature has nothing human about it But its appearance. My heart, return to your senses: She dreams of power, and if she achieves it, My life is over. Ottone, return to your senses; If she fears that Nerone

Cessa di più tentarmi,Al cenno imperial Poppea soggiace;Ammorz’il foco omai, tempra gli sdegni;Io lascio te per arrivar ai regni.

OttoneE così l’ambizione Sovr’ogni vizio tien la monarchia.

PoppeaCosì, così la mia ragioneIncolpa i tuoi capricci di pazzia.

OttoneÈ questo del mio amor il guiderdone?

PoppeaModestia olà


PoppeaOlà, non più,


PoppeaNon più, son di Nerone.

ScenA XIIArnalta, Ottone.

ArnaltaInfelice garzone,Mi move a compassion il miserelloPoppea non ha cervello,A non gl’aver pieta.Quand’ero in altr’età Non volevo gl’amantiIn lacrime distrutti,Per compassion li contentavo tutti.

OttoneOtton, torna in te stesso,Il più imperfetto sessoNon ha per sua naturaAltro d’uman in sè che la figura.Mio cor, torna in te stesso,Costei pensa al comando, e se ci arrivaLa mia vita è perduta,Otton, torna in te stesso; ella temendoChe risappia Nerone


Might learn of my past loveShe may conspire plots against my innocence; She may induce someone else to accuse me Of the felony of insulting the monarch. Slander, favored by the great, Destroys the honor and the life of the innocent. I shall forestall her With the sword or with poison; I no longer wish to nurture a serpent in my bosom. Thus to this end Your love should come, Treacherous Poppea!

SCEnE xIII Drusilla, Ottone.

Drusilla You’re always going on about Poppea, Both in thought and in speech.

Ottone Driven out of my heart, her name comes to my tongue,And from my tongue it is consigned to the winds—That name of her Who betrayed my affection.

Drusilla Sometimes the court of Love Rules fairly; You do not pity me, And now others laugh at your grief, Ottone.

Ottone To you, beautiful maiden, I now freely give All that I am. I renounce all others, And shall be yours alone, my Drusilla.

Drusilla You have already forgottenPast loves? Is it true, Ottone, is it true That to my faithful heart yours is bound?

Ottone It is true, Drusilla, it is true, yes, yes!

Drusilla I fear you may be lying to me.

Ottone No, no, Drusilla, no.

I miei passati amori,Ordirà insidie all’innocenza mia,Indurrà colla forza un che m’accusiDi lesa maestà di fellonia,La calunnia, dai grandi favorita,Distrugge agl’innocenti onor e vita.Vo’ prevenir costeiCol ferro o col veleno,Non mi vo’ più nutrir il serpe in seno.A questo fineDunque arrivar doveaL’amor tuo, perfidissima Poppea!

ScenA XIIIDrusilla, Ottone.

DrusillaPur sempre di Poppea,Hor con la lingua, hor col pensier discorri.

OttoneDiscacciato dal cor viene alla lingua,E dalla lingua è consegnato ai ventiIl nome di coleiCh’infedele tradì gl’affetti miei.

DrusillaIl tribunal d’Amor Talor giustizia faDi me non hai pietà,Altri si ride, Otton, del tuo dolor.

OttoneA te di quanto son,Bellissima donzellaOr fo libero don,Ad altri mi ritolgo,E solo tuo sarò, Drusilla mia.

DrusillaGià l’oblio seppellì Gl’andati amori?È ver, Otton, è ver,Ch’a questo fido cor il tuo s’unì?

OttoneÈ ver, Drusilla, è ver, sì, sì.

DrusillaTemo che tu mi dica la bugia.

OttoneNo, no, Drusilla, no.


Drusilla Ottone, I don’t know, I don’t know.

Ottone My faith cannot lie to you.

Drusilla Do you love me?

Ottone I desire you.

Drusilla And how in one minute?

OttoneLove is a fire, and kindles suddenly.

Drusilla That unexpected delight Will content me:Ottone, be happy;I must go to see the empress.

Ottone She calms all the tempests in my heart, Ottone shall belong to none but Drusilla; And yet, in spite of myself, O wicked Love, I have Drusilla on my lips, and Poppea in my heart.

ACT II

SCEnE ISeneca, Mercurio.

Seneca Beloved solitude, Hermitage of the mind, Refuge of ideas, Delight of the intellect, Which discusses and contemplates Heavenly ideals In base and earthly forms,To you my soul comes gladly. And far from the court, Which, rude and arrogant, Is an anathema to my patience; Here amidst the greenery of natureI find peaceful repose.

Mercurio True friend of Heaven,

DrusillaOtton, non so, non so.

OttoneTeco non può mentir la fede mia.

DrusillaM’ami?

OttoneTi bramo.

DrusillaE come in un momento?

OttoneAmor è foco, e subito s’accende.

DrusillaSì subito dolcezzaLieta m’en vado:Otton, resta felice;M’indrizzo a riveder l’Imperatrice.

OttoneLe tempeste del cor, tutte tranquilla,D’altr’Otton non sarà che di Drusilla;E pur al mio dispetto, iniquo Amore,Drusilla ho in bocca, ed ho Poppea nel core.

ATTO SecOnDO

ScenA ISeneca, Mercurio.

SenecaSolitudine amata,Eremo della mente,Romitaggio à pensieri,Delitie all’intelletto Che discorre e contemplaL’immagini celestiSotto le forme ignobili, terrene,A te l’anima mia lieta s’en viene,E lungi dalla corte,Ch’insolente e superbaFà della mia patienza anatomia Qui tra le frondi, e l’herbe,M’assiedo in grembo della pace mia.

Mercurio Vero amico del Cielo


Here in this solitary cloisterI wish to see you.

SenecaAnd since whenHave I merited a divine visit?

Mercurio The sovereign virtue that fills youMakes gods of men,And because of this you deserve A celestial envoy.Pallade sends me to you,To tell you that your last hour Of this frail life is upon you, And passage to the eternal is near.

SenecaOh, happy me, then;If I have lived the life of a man Until now,After death I shall live The life of the gods.Kind god, do you foretell my death?I now endorse my writings, I certify my studies:Death is a blessed fate,If it is uttered by divine lips.

Mercurio Then happily prepareFor the celestial journey,I shall show you the pathTo the exalted crossing Which leads to the Starry Pole;Seneca, thence I now take my flight.

SCEnE IISeneca, liberto.

libertoThe brutal decree Defies all reason And means only violence or death. I must report it, and nonetheless, Though I am an innocent messenger, I feel as if I were an accomplice in this evil Which I am about to convey. Seneca, I am very sorry to find you,Although I was looking for you; Ah, do not look at me with grim eyes As though I were the bringer of dire news.

Appunto in questa solitaria chiostraVisitarti io volevo.

SenecaE quando, quando maiLe visite divine io meritai?

Mercurio La sovrana virtù di cui sei pienoDeifica i mortali,E perciò son da te ben meritateLe celesti ambasciate.Pallade a te mi manda,E t’annunzia vicina l’ultim’oraDi questa frale vita,E’l passaggio all’eterna ed infinita.

SenecaO me felice, adunqueS’ho vivuto sinora Degl’uomini la vita,Vivrò dopo la morteLa vita degli Dei.Nume cortese, tu’l morir m’annunzi? Or confermo i miei scritti,Autentico i miei studi;L’uscir di vita è una beata sorte,Se da bocca divina esce la morte.

Mercurio Lieto dunque t’accingiAl celeste viaggio,Al sublime passaggio,T’insegnerò la strada,Che ne conduce allo Stellato Polo;Seneca or colà sù io drizzo il volo.

ScenA IISeneca, Liberto.

LibertoIl commando tirannoEsclude ogni ragione,E tratta solo ò violenza, ò morte. Io devo riferirlo, e non dimenoRelatore innocenteMi par d’esser partecipe del male,Ch’a riferire io vado.Seneca, assai m’incresce di trovarti Mentre pur ti ricerco.Deh, non mi riguardar con occhio torvoSe a te sarò d’infausto nunzio il corvo.


Seneca My friend, long agoI armed my breast Against the blows of Fate. The ways of our times Are not foreign to me; If you bring me death Do not ask forgiveness:I smile when you bring me such a fine gift.

libertoNerone…

Seneca No more, no more,

liberto…sends me to you.

Seneca No more. I have understood, and I will obey.

libertoSir, you have divined it;Die, and die happy, For as the days passWith the imprint of the sun,Marked by its radiance, Thus from your writings The works of others will be enlightened. Die, die happy.

Seneca Go, go now, And if you speak to Nerone before evening, Tell him that I am dead and buried.

SCEnE IIISeneca, Famigliari.

Seneca Friends, the hour has come To put into deed That virtue which I have so extolled. Death is a brief anguish; An errant sigh comes from the heart Where it dwelt for many years As though in a hostel, like a voyager, And flies to Olympus, The true abode of happiness.

FamigliariDo not die, Seneca, no; I myself do not wish to die!

SenecaAmico, è già gran tempo,Ch’io porto il seno armatoContro i colpi del Fato.La notizia del secolo in cui vivo,Forestiera non giunge alla mia mente;Se m’arrechi la morte,Non mi chieder perdono:Rido, mentre mi porti un sì bel dono.

LibertoNerone…

SenecaNon più, non più,

Libertoa te mi manda.

SenecaNon più, t’ho inteso, e ubbidisco or ora.

LibertoSignor, indovinasti;Mori, e mori felice,Che come vanno i giorniAl’impronto del soleA marcarsi di luce,Così alle tue scrittureVerran per prender luce i scritti altrui.Mori, mori felice.

SenecaVanne, vattene omai,E se parli a Nerone avanti sera,Ch’io son morto, e sepolto gli dirai.

ScenA IIISeneca, Famigliari.

SenecaAmici è giunta l’oraDi praticare in fattiQuella virtù, che tanto celebrai.Breve angoscia è la morte;Un sospir peregrino esce dal core,Ov’è stato molt’anni,Quasi in ospizio, come forestiero, E se ne vola all’Olimpo,Della felicità soggiorno vero.

FamigliariNon morir, Seneca, no.Io per me morir non vo’.


Ritornello

I°: Questa vita è dolce troppo,II°: Questo ciel troppo è sereno,III°: Ogni amar, ogni veleno

I TreFinalmente è lieve intoppo.

Ritornello

I°: Se mi corco al sonno lieve,II°: Mi risveglio in sul mattino,III°: Ma un avel di marmo fino,

I TreMai non dà quel che riceve.Io per me morir non vo’.Non morir, Seneca, no.

Ritornello

SenecaItene tutti, a prepararmi il bagno,Che se la vita correCome rivo fluente,In un tepido rivoQuesto sangue innocente io vo’ che vadaA imporporarmi del morir la strada.

ScenA IVValletto, Damigella.

Valletto Sento un certo non so che,Che mi pizzica, e diletta,Dimmi tu che cosa egli è,Damigella amorosetta.Ti farei, ti direi,Ma non so quel ch’io vorrei.

Ritornello

Se stò teco il cor mi batte,Se tu parti, io sto melenso,Al tuo sen di vivo latte,Sempre aspiro e sempre penso.Ti farei, ti direi,Ma non so quel ch’io vorrei.

Ritornello

DamigellaAstutello, garzoncello,

Ritornello

I: This life is too sweet, II: This sky is too clear, III: Any bitterness, any poison is,

All ThreeIn the end, only a small impediment.

Ritornello

I: If I lie down in a light sleep II: I wake in the morning, III: But a tomb of fine marble,

All ThreeNever gives up what it receives. I myself do not wish to die! Do not die, Seneca, no.

Ritornello

Seneca Go, all of you, and prepare the bath for me, For, as life runs Like a flowing river, I want this innocent blood to flow In a warm stream And nobly redden the path to my death.

SCEnE Iv valletto, Damigella.

valletto I feel a certain something I don’t understand, Which itches and pleases me, Tell me, what is it, Lovely little handmaid?I want to do to you—say to you— I don’t know what!

Ritornello

If I’m with you, my heart pounds; If you leave, I’m bored,I’m always dreaming and yearning For your milk-white bosomI want to do to you—say to you— I don’t know what!

Ritornello

DamigellaClever little boy;


Bamboleggia Amor in te.Se divieni amante, affè,Perderai tosto il cervello.Cresc’ Amor per solazzo coi bambini,Ma sete Amor e tu, due malandrini.

Valletto Dunque amor così comincia?È una cosa molto dolce?Io darei per godere il tuo dilettoI cireggi, le pere ed il confetto.Ma se amaro divenisseQuesto miel, che sì mi piace,L’addolciresti tu?Dimmelo vita mia, dimmelo, di’!

DamigellaL’addolcirei, sì, sì.

Damigella e Valletto O caro, godiamo! O cara, cantiamo!Godiamo, cantiamo, Andiamo a godere.Allunga il morireChi tarda il piacere.Godiamo, cantiamo,Andiamo a godere.O caro, godiamo! O cara, cantiamo!

ScenA Vnerone, Lucano.

neroneOr che Seneca è morto,Cantiam, cantiam Lucano,Amorose canzoniIn lode d’un bel viso,Che di sua mano Amor nel cor, m’ha inciso.

LucanoCantiam, Signore, cantiamo,

nerone e LucanoDi quel viso ridente,Che spira glorie, ed influisce amori; cantiam Di quel viso beato,

LucanoIn cui l’idea d’Amor se stessa pose,

Love dotes on you; If you fall in love, in faith, You’ll soon lose your mind. Love is just a sport with babies, You and love are a pair of thieves.

valletto Is this how love begins? Is it so sweet a thing? To taste your delights, I would give upCherries, pears, and sweets.But, if this honey I like so much Should grow bitter, Would you sweeten it? Tell me, my life, tell me, tell me!

DamigellaI would sweeten it, yes, yes.

Damigella and vallettoO darling, let’s enjoy each other, O darling, let’s sing!Let’s enjoy, and sing,Let’s go have some fun.Death is prolonged For him who delays pleasure.Let’s enjoy, and sing,Let’s go have some fun.O darling, let’s enjoy each other, O darling, let’s sing!

SCEnE vnerone, lucano.

nerone Now that Seneca is dead, Lucano, let’s sing Amorous songs In praise of a beautiful face, Which Amore has etched Upon my heart with his hand.

lucano Let’s sing, my lord, let’s sing,

nerone and lucano Of that smiling face, Which inspires glory and arouses love; Let’s sing of that blessed face,

lucanoIn which the notion of Love took form,


Nerone e LucanoE seppe su le neviCon nova meraviglia,Animar, incarnar la granatiglia.Cantiam, di quella boccaA cui l’India e l’ArabiaLe perle consacrò, donò gl’odori.

LucanoBocca, che se ragioni o ride,Con invisibil arme pungi, e all’almaDoni felicità mentr’ella uccide Bocca, che se mi porgeLasciveggiando’l tenero rubinoM’inebria il cor di nettare divino.

NeroneBocca, ahi, destino!

LucanoTu vai, signor, tu vaiNell’estasi d’amor deliciando,E ti piovon dagl’occhiStille di tenerezza,Lacrime di dolcezza.

NeroneIdolo mio, Celebrarti io vorrei,Ma son minute fiaccole, e cadenti,Dirimpetto al tuo sole i detti miei.

Ritornello

Son rubin preziosiI tuoi labbri amorosi,Il mio core costanteÈ di saldo diamante,Così le tue bellezze ed il mio coreDi care gemme ha fabbricato Amore.

Ritornello

SCENA VIOttavia, Ottone.

OttaviaTu che dagli avi mieiAvesti le grandezze,Se memoria conserviDe’ benefici avuti, or dammi aita.

OttoneMaestade, che pregaÈ destin che necessita: son pronto

Nerone and LucanoAnd knew how to bring A pomegranate to life in the snow, By a new miracle.Let’s sing of that mouth To which India and Arabia Dedicated their pearls and gave their scents.

LucanoThat mouth, which whether it reasons or laughs Wounds with invisible weapons, and to the soul Gives happiness while it kills. That mouth, which if it wantonly offers me Its soft ruby, It inebriates my heart with divine nectar.

NeroneThat mouth, ah, destiny!

Lucano My lord, you are in the ecstasy Of rapturous love, And from your eyes weepDrops of tenderness, Tears of sweetness.

Nerone My idol,I want to sing your praises, But my words are little falling stars Compared to your sun.

Ritornello

Your lovely lips Are precious rubies, My faithful heart Is hard diamond,Thus your beauty and my heart Have been built of precious gems by Love.

Ritornello

SCENE VIOttavia, Ottone.

Ottavia You, who received your rankFrom my ancestors, If you still recall My assistance in the past, now give me help.

Ottone Royalty’s wish Is destiny’s command; I am ready


Ad ubbidirti, o regina,Quando anco bisognasseSacrificare a te la mia ruina.

OttaviaVoglio che la tua spadaScriva gl’obblighi mieiCol sangue di Poppea; vuo’ che l’uccida.

OttoneChe uccida chi? Chi?

OttaviaPoppea.

OttoneChe uccida, che uccida chi?

OttaviaPoppea.

OttonePoppea? Poppea?Che uccida Poppea?

OttaviaPoppea, Poppea, perchè?Dunque ricusiQuel che già promettessi?

OttoneIo ciò promisi?Urbanità di complimento umile,Modestia di parole costumate,A che pena mortal mi condannate!

OttaviaChe discorri fra te?

OttoneDiscorro il modo Più cauto, e più sicuroD’un’impresa sì grande.O Ciel, o dei,In questo punto orrendoRitoglietemi i giorni, e i spirti miei.

OttaviaChe mormori?

OttoneFo voti alla Fortuna,Che mi doni attitudine a servirti.

To obey you, O queen, Even if it be necessary To sacrifice my own downfall to you.

Ottavia I want your sword To sign off the debt you owe me With Poppea’s blood; I want you to kill her.

Ottone Kill whom? Whom?

Ottavia Poppea.

OttoneKill, kill whom?

OttaviaPoppea.

Ottone Poppea? Poppea?Kill Poppea?

Ottavia Poppea, Poppea, why? So, you refuse What you have already promised?

Ottone I promised that? Smooth humble compliments, Civility of customary words, You condemn me to such a deadly sentence!

Ottavia What are you talking about?

Ottone I am considering which methodIs the most cautious and the most safeFor so great an undertaking. (O Heaven, O gods, In this horrendous moment, Take back my days and courage!)

Ottavia What are you muttering about?

Ottone I am praying to Fortuna To make me fit to serve you.


Ottavia And since your work Will please me more the quicker it is, Let there be no delay!

Ottone (Am I to die so soon?)

Ottavia But what are these Constant soliloquies? You tryMy imperial anger;If you do not hasten to do as I say, You will pay for your laziness with your head.

Ottone And if Nerone finds out?

Ottavia Change clothing. Disguise yourself with women’s garb, And, with well-timed deceit, Like a clever performer, prepare yourself for the deed.

Ottone Give me time, give me time, that I may Inflame my feelings And brutalize my heart…

Ottavia Let there be no delay!

Ottone Give me time, give me time, that I may Make my hand savage; I cannot, in a moment, Change my loving nature To be a ruthless executioner.

Ottavia If you do not obey me I shall denounce you to Nerone Telling him that you wanted to abuse me,To rape me,And I shall see that torture and death Weary of you by the end of the day.

Ottone I shall obey you, empress! (O Heaven, O gods, In this horrendous moment, Take back my days and courage!)

OttaviaE perchè l’opra tuaQuanto più presta fia tanto più grata,Precipita gl’indugi.

OttoneSì tosto ho da morir?

OttaviaMa che frequentiSoliloqui son questi? Ti protestaL’imperial mio sdegno,Che se non vai veloce al maggior segno,Pagherai la pigrizia con la testa.

OttoneSe Neron lo saprà?

OttaviaCangia vestiti.Abito muliebre ti ricopra,E con frode opportunaSagace esecutor t’accingi all’opra.

OttoneDammi tempo, dammi tempo, ond’io possaInferocir i sentimenti miei,Disumanar’il core…

OttaviaPrecipita gl’indugi.

OttoneDammi tempo, dammi tempo, ond’io possaImbarbarir la mano;Assuefar non posso in un momentoIl genio innamoratoNell’arti del carnefice spietato.

OttaviaSe tu non m’ubbidisci,T’accuserò a Nerone,Ch’abbi voluto usarmiViolenze inoneste,E farò sì, che ti si stancheranno intornoIl tormento, e la morte in questo giorno.

OttoneAd ubbidirti, imperatrice, io vado.O Ciel, O dei,In questo punto orrendoRitoglietemi i giorni e i spirti miei.


SCEnE vIIDrusilla, valletto, nutrice.

Drusilla My happy heart, Rejoice in my bosom,After the stormclouds and the horrors, I shall enjoy the calm.Today, I hope that Ottone Will confirm his promise of love,My happy heart, Rejoice in my bosom, Rejoice in my bosom, my merry heart.

vallettoNutrice, how much would you pay for one day Of joyful youth, such as Drusilla has?

nutrice I would pay all the gold in the world.Envy for other people’s well-being, Self-hatred,Spiritual weakness, Infirmity of the senses These are the four ingredients, Rather, the four elements Of miserable old age,Which, grizzled and shaky,Is a walking grave for its own bones!

Drusilla Do not complain so! You are still young;The sun is not yet set, Even if the rosy dawn is past.

Ritornello

nutrice A woman’s day Finds its evening at noon.From midday on, Beauty loses its bloom;With time, there is a sweetening Of the fruit which is sour and hard, But in a few hours what was ripe has become rotten.

Ritornello

Believe me, Fresh maidens in the morning of life, Spring is the season When Love is with you;Do not let the green of April or May Pass you by:You’ll sweat too much if you take your trip in July!

ScenA VIIDrusilla, Valletto, nutrice.

DrusillaFelice cor mioFesteggiami in seno,Dopo i nembi, e gl’orror godrò il sereno.Oggi spero ch’OttoneMi riconfermi il suo promesso amore,Felice cor mioFesteggiami in seno,Festeggiami nel sen, lieto mio core.

VallettoNutrice, quanto pagheresti un giornoD’allegra gioventù, com’ ha Drusilla?

nutriceTutto l’oro del mondo io pagherei.L’invidia del ben d’altri,L’odio di sè medesma,La fiacchezza dell’alma,L’infermità del senso,Son quattro ingredienti,Anzi i quattro elementiDi questa miserabile vecchiezza,Che canuta, e tremante,Dell’ossa proprie è un cimitero andante.

DrusillaNon ti lagnar così, sei fresca ancora;Non è il sol tramontatoSe ben passata è la vermiglia aurora.

Ritornello

nutriceIl giorno femminilTrova la sera sua nel mezzo dì.Dal mezzo giorno in làSfiorisce la beltà;Col tempo si fa dolceIl frutto acerbo, e duro,Ma in ore guasto vien quel, ch’è maturo.

Ritornello

Credetel pure a me,O giovanette fresche in sul mattin;Primavera è l’etàCh’Amor con voi si stà;Non lasciate che passi Il verde april o’l maggio Si suda troppo il luglio a far viaggio.


VallettoAndiam a Ottavia omaiSignora nonna mia,

nutriceTi darò una guanciata!

VallettoVenerabile antica,

nutriceBugiardello!

Valletto…Del buon Caronte idolatrata amica.

nutriceChe sì, Bugiardello insolente, che sì.

VallettoAndiam, che in te è passataLa mezza notte, non ch’il mezzo dì.

ScenA VIIIOttone, Drusilla.

OttoneIo non so dov’io vada;Il palpitar del coreEd il moto del piè non van d’accordo.L’aria che m’entra in seno, quand’io respiro,Trova il mio cor sì afflitto,Ch’ella si cangia in subitaneo pianto;E così mentr’io peno,L’aria per compassion mi piange in seno.

DrusillaE dove signor mio?

OttoneDrusilla, Drusilla!

DrusillaDove, dove, signor mio?

OttoneTe sola cerco.

DrusillaEccomi a tuoi piaceri.

vallettoLet’s go now to Ottavia,O my lady grandmother,

nutrice I’ll slap your face!

vallettoVenerable antique,

nutrice You little prankster!

valletto…much-adored friend of good Charon.

nutrice Oh, yes,You are a rude little prankster, indeed!

vallettoLet’s go, for you have passed Midnight, not just midday!

SCEnE vIII Ottone, Drusilla.

Ottone I do not know where I am going; The beating of my heart And the motion of my feet are not in agreement. The very air I breathe Finds my heart so afflicted That it changes itself into sudden tears; And thus, while I suffer, The air, in sympathy, weeps within my breast.

Drusilla Where are you going, my lord?

Ottone Drusilla, Drusilla!

Drusilla Where, where are you going, my lord?

Ottone I am looking for you alone.

Drusilla Here I am, at your command.


OttoneDrusilla, io vuo’ fidartiUn secreto gravissimo; promettiE silenzio e soccorso?

DrusillaCiò che del sangue mio, più che dell’oro,Può giovarti, è servirti,È gia tuo più che mio.Palesami il secreto,Che del silenzio mio Ti do l’anima in pegno, e la mia fede.

OttoneNon esser più gelosaDi Poppea…

DrusillaNo, no.

Ottone…di Poppea.

DrusillaFelice cor mio,Festeggiami in seno.

OttoneSenti, senti.

DrusillaFesteggiami in seno…

OttoneSenti, senti, io devo Or ora per terribile commandoImmergerle nel sen questo mio brando.Per ricoprir me stessoIn misfatto sì enormeIo vorrei le tue vesti.

DrusillaE le vesti e le vene io ti darò…

OttoneSe occultarmi potrò, vivremo poiUniti sempre in dilettosi amori.

DrusillaE le vesti e le veneTi darò volentieri;Ma circospetto va’, cauto procedi.Nel rimanente sappiChe le fortune, e le ricchezze mie

Ottone Drusilla, I want to entrust you With a most serious secret; do you promise Both discretion and help?

Drusilla Whatever measure of my flesh and blood, or my wealth, Can be of any use or service to you Is already more yours than mine. Tell me your secret, So that I may give you my soul and my faithAs pledge of my silence.

Ottone Do not be jealous any longerOf Poppea…

Drusilla No, no.

Ottone …of Poppea.

Drusilla My happy heart,Rejoice in my bosom.

OttoneListen, listen.

DrusillaRejoice in my bosom…

Ottone Listen, listen, I mustAt this very moment, by dread command, Plunge this sword of mine into her breast. To disguise myself In order to commit enormous a crime, I would like your clothes.

DrusillaMy clothes and my lifeblood I will give you…

OttoneIf you can conceal my identity, then we can live Together forever in love.

Drusilla Both my clothes and my lifeblood I’ll give you willingly, But go carefully, proceed with caution. For the rest, knowThat my fortune and my riches


Will be at your disposal anywhere; And you will prove Drusilla A noble lover, such a one As never was equaled in antiquity.Let us go now.My happy heart, Rejoice in my bosom. Let us go now, so that I may undress myselfAnd disguise you with my own hands. But I want to know the reason for this horrific task, Everything, from top to bottom.

Ottone Let us go now, You will hear everything, to your great amazement.

SCEnE Ix Poppea, Arnalta.

Poppea Now that Seneca is dead, Amore, I return to you; Guide my hopes into port, Make me the bride of my king.

Arnalta You’re always singing About this wedding!

Poppea I never think of anything else, my Arnalta.

Arnalta The most restless feeling of all Is mad ambition,But if you attain the scepter and the crown, Do not forget me; Keep me near you And never trust courtiers, For in two things onlyJove is powerless:He cannot introduce death into Heaven, Nor can he find loyalty at court.

Poppea Have no fear, for to meYou will always be the same, And I will never have Anyone but you as my confidante. Amore, I return to you; Guide my hopes into port, Make me the bride…make me…It seems that sleep is tempting me To close my eyes in the lap of repose.

Ti saran tributarie in ogni loco;E proverai DrusillaNobile amante, e tale,Che mai, l’antica età non ebbe uguale.Andiam, andiam pur.Felice cor mio,Festeggiami in seno.Andiam, andiam pur, ch’io mi spoglio,E di mia man travestirti io voglio.Ma vuo’ da te saper più a dentro, e a fondoDi così orrenda impresa la cagione.

OttoneAndiam, andianne omai,Che con alto stupore il tutto udrai.

ScenA IX Poppea, Arnalta.

PoppeaOr che Seneca è morto,Amor ricorro a te,Guida mia speme in porto,Fammi sposa al mio re.

ArnaltaPur sempre sulle nozzeCanzoneggiando vai.

PoppeaAd altro, Arnalta mia, non penso mai.

ArnaltaIl più inquieto affettoÈ la pazza ambizione;Ma se arrivi agli scettri, e alle corone,Non ti scordar di me,Tiemmi appresso di te,Nè ti fidar giammai di cortigiani,Perchè in due cose soleGiove è reso impotente:Ei non può far che in Cielo entri la morte,Nè che la fede mai si trovi in corte.

PoppeaNon dubitar, che mecoSarai sempre la stessa,E non fia mai che siaAltra che tu la secretaria mia.Amor, ricorro a te,Guida mia speme in porto, Fammi sposa…Par che’l sonno m’allettiA chiuder gl’occhi alla quiete in grembo.


Here in the garden, O Arnalta, Make all ready for me to rest, For I enjoy sleeping in the fresh air.

Arnalta Hear me, maids, you there!

Poppea If I should sleep Beyond the usual time, Come and wake me; And grant entry to the garden to no oneExcept Drusilla or another friend.

Arnalta Lie down, Poppea, Quiet yourself, my soul: You shall be well protected. May soft oblivion Lull you to sleep With sweet thoughts, my child. Now rest, thieving eyes; What might you do open If you rob even when closed? Poppea, be peaceful; Dear, pleasing eyes, Sleep now, sleep. Lovers, appreciate This new miracle: The day is bright as usual,And yet, as you see, the sun is asleep.

SCEnE xAmore.

AmoreThe unwary girl sleeps,She does not know That now the fatal hourHas come;Thus all men live in darkness, And when their eyes are closedThey think they are safe from harm.

Aria

O foolish, O frail Mortal senses,While you fall into sleepy oblivion A vigilant god watches over your sleep!

Ritornello

You would be leftLike a game of chance,

Qui nel giardin, o Arnalta,Fammi apprestar del riposare il modo,Ch’alla fresc’aria addormentarmi godo.

ArnaltaUdite, ancelle, olà!

PoppeaSe mi trasporta il sonnoOltra gli spazi usati,A risvegliarmi vieni,Né conceder l’ingresso nel giardinoFuor ch’a Drusilla, o ad altre confidenti.

ArnaltaAdagiati, Poppea,Acquietati, anima mia:Sarai ben custodita.Oblivion soaveI dolci sentimentiIn te, figlia, addormenti.Posatevi occhi ladri,Aperti deh che fate,Se chiusi anco rubate?Poppea, rimanti in pace;Luci care e gradite,Dormite omai dormite.Amanti vagheggiateIl miracolo novo:È luminoso il dì, sì come suole,E pur vedete, addormentato il sole.

ScenA X Amore.

AmoreDorme, l’incauta dorme, Ella non sa,Ch’or or verràIl punto micidiale;Così l’umanità vive all’oscuroE quando ha chiusi gl’occhiCrede essersi dal mal posta in sicuro.

Aria

O sciocchi, o fraliSensi mortaliMentre cadete in sonnacchioso oblioSul vostro sonno è vigilante dio.

Ritornello

Siete rimasiGioco dei casi,


Soggetti al rischio, e del periglio prede,Se Amor, genio del mondo, non provvede.

Ritornello

Dormi, o Poppea,Terrena dea;Ti salverà dall’armi altrui rubelle,Amor che move il sol e l’altre stelle.

Ritornello

Gia s’avvicina La tua ruina;Ma non ti nuocerà strano accidente,Ch’Amor picciolo è sì, ma onnipotente.

SCENA XIOttone, Amore, Poppea, Arnalta.

OttoneEccomi trasformato, D’Otton in Drusilla,No, non d’Otton in Drusilla,Ma d’uom in serpe,

al cui veleno, e rabbiaNon vidde’l mondo, e non vedrà simile.Ma che veggio infelice?Tu dormi anima mia?Chiudesti gl’occhiPer non aprirli più?Care pupille,Il sonno vi serròAffin chè non vediateQuesti prodigi strani:La vostra morte uscir dalle mie mani.Ohimè, trema il pensiero, il moto langue, ohimè,E’l cor fuor del suo sitoRamingo per le viscere tremantiCerca un cupo recesso, per celarsi,O involto in un singulto,Ei tenta di scampar fuor di me stesso,Per non partecipar d’un tanto eccesso.Ma che tardo? Che bado?Costei m’aborre, e sprezza, e ancor io l’amo?Ho promesso ad Ottavia: se mi pentoAccelero a miei dì funesto il fine.Poppea, Poppea, t’uccido; Amor, rispetti: addio, addio.

AmoreForsennato, scellerato,Inimico del mio nume,Tanto adunque si presume?

Subject to risk, and prey to danger If Amore, the guiding spirit of the world, did not intervene.

Ritornello

Sleep, O Poppea, Earthly goddess; You shall be saved from wayward weaponsBy Amore, who moves the sun and the stars.

Ritornello

Already the danger Draws near,But you shall suffer no harm from an random accident,For Amore is small, but omnipotent.

SCENE XIOttone, Amore, Poppea, Arnalta.

Ottone Here I am, transformed From Ottone into Drusilla; No, not from Ottone into Drusilla, But from a man into a serpent,

in whom there is venom and rage Such as the world has never seen, or ever shall. But what do I see, wretched me? You sleep, my soul? You have closed your eyes Never to open them again? Beloved eyes, Sleep has closed you So that you do not see These monstrous aberrations:Your death coming from my hands. Alas, my thoughts shudder, my resolve flags, And my heart, out of its place, Wandering within my trembling gut, Seeks a dark corner in which to hide itself, Or, wrapped in a sob, It tries to escape from me So as not to participate in such madness. But why do I delay? Why do I stall? She abhors and despises me, and still I love her? I promised Ottavia; if I now repentI hasten my own demise.Poppea, I’ll kill you; Love, expectations: farewell, farewell.

AmoreMadman, wretch, Enemy of my godhood, You dare to presume so far?


Fulminarti io dovrei,Ma non merti di morirePer la mano degli dei.Illeso va da questi strali acuti,Non tolgo al manigoldo i lor tributi.

PoppeaDrusilla, in questo modo?Con l’armi ignude in mano,Mentre nel mio giardin dormo soletta?

ArnaltaAccorrete, accorrete,O servi, o damigelle,Inseguir Drusilla, dalli, dalli,Tanto mostro a ferir non sia chi falli,dalli, dalli, dalli, dalli.

AmoreHo difesa Poppea,Vuo’ farla imperatrice,Ho difesa Poppea.

ATTO TERZO

SCENA IDrusilla.

DrusillaO felice Drusilla, o che spero, che sper’io;Corre adesso per me l’ora fatale,Perirà, morirà la mia rivale,E Otton finalmente sarà mio.O che spero, che sper’io!Se le mie vesti Avran servito A ben coprirlo,Con vostra pace, o dei,Adorar io vorrò gl’arnesi miei.O felice Drusilla, o che spero, che sper’io!

SCENA IIArnalta, Drusilla, Littore con molti simili.

ArnaltaEcco la scellerata Che pensando occultarsi,De vesti s’è mutata.

DrusillaE qual peccato, qual, qual pecc…

LittoreFermati, morta sei.

I should strike you down with a thunderbolt, But you do not deserve to die At the hand of a god. Go unharmed by these sharp arrows, I would not deprive the hangman of his reward!

Poppea Drusilla, like this? With a naked sword in hand, While I sleep alone in my garden?

Arnalta Run, run, O servants, O maids, Follow Drusilla, after her, after her,Let no one fail to strike down such a monster,After her, after her, after her, after her!

AmoreI have defended Poppea, I shall make her empress,I have defended Poppea!

ACT III

SCENE I Drusilla.

Drusilla O happy Drusilla, oh, what can I hope;The fatal hour is nearly here; My rival shall die, she shall perish, And Ottone will at last be mine. O what can I hope?If my clothes Have served To disguise him well, By your leave, O gods, I shall worship those garments. O happy Drusilla, oh, what can I hope?

SCENE IIArnalta, Drusilla, Littore, and many others like him.

Arnalta There is the wretched woman! Thinking she could hide herself, She has changed clothes.

Drusilla And what crime, what, what crime…

LittoreSilence, you are dead.


Drusilla What crime condemns me to death?

littoreYou still feign innocence, you despicable murderess? You plotted the death Of the sleeping Poppea.

Drusilla (Alas dear friend, alas, fate, Alas, my innocent garments! I have only myself to blame, I was too trusting, and too unwary.)

SCEnE IIIArnalta, nerone, Drusilla, littore, and many others.

Arnalta Sire, there is the guilty one, Who tried to stab The Lady Poppea; The innocent was asleepIn her own garden, Suddenly this one entered, with drawn sword; If her devoted servant Had not awakened, The savage blow would have fallen upon her.

nerone Where did you get the nerve? And who led you, Rebel, to such treachery?

Drusilla I am innocent; My conscience knows it, and so does God.

nerone No, confess now,Whether you attempted this out of hatred, or were spurredTo this crime by authority or money.

Drusilla I am innocent; My conscience knows it, and so does God.

neroneLet whips, lashes, and fire Drag the names of the leader And the accomplices out of her.

Drusilla (Miserable me, Rather than have cruel torture Force me to say that

DrusillaQual peccato mi conduce a morte?

LittoreAncor t’infingi, sanguinaria indegna?A Poppea dormienteMacchinasti la morte.

DrusillaAhi caro amico, ahi sorte, sorte,Ahi mie vesti innocenti!Di me dolermi deggio, e non d’altrui;Credula troppo, e troppo, troppo incauta fui.

ScenA IIIArnalta, nerone, Drusilla, Littore con molti simili.

ArnaltaSignor, ecco la reaChe trafigger tentòLa matrona Poppea;Dormiva l’innocenteNel suo proprio giardino,Sopraggiunse costei col ferro ignudo,Se non si risvegliavaLa sua devota ancella,Sopra di lei scendeva il colpo crudo.

neroneOnde tanto ardimento?E chi t’indusseRubella al tradimento?

DrusillaInnocente son io,Lo sa la mia coscienza, e lo sa Dio.

neroneNo, no, confessa omai,S’attendesti per odio o se ti spinseL’autoritade, o l’oro al gran misfatto.

DrusillaInnocente son io,Lo sa la mia coscienza, e lo sa Dio.

neroneFlagelli, funi e fochi Cavino da costeiIl mandante, e i correi.

DrusillaMisera me, piu tosto Ch’un atroce tormentoMi sforz’a dir quel


Which I want to keep quiet, I shall take upon myself The deadly sentence and the infamy.O you, that in this world call yourselves friends, Ah, model yourselves on me; These are the duties of a true friend.)

Arnalta What are you twittering about, you hooligan?

littoreWhat are you raving about, you assassin?

nerone What are you saying, traitor?

Drusilla Love and innocence Do fierce battleWithin me.

nerone Before bitter torments Make you feel my wrath, Persuade your stubborn mind To confess this plotted treachery.

Drusilla Sire, I was the guilty one who tried to kill The innocent Poppea.

nerone Take this woman To the executioner at once; Have him find A fitting death, A long, excruciating agony That in harsh ways will embitter this wicked woman’s death.

SCEnE IvOttone, nerone, Drusilla, littore, and many others.

Ottone No, no, let this sentence Fall upon me, for I deserve it.

Drusilla I was the guilty one who tried to kill The innocent Poppea.

Ottone As you are my witness, O heavens, O gods,She is innocent.

che tacer vorrei,Sopra me stessa toglioLa sentenza mortal, e’l monumento O voi, ch’al mondo vi chiamate amici,Deh, specchiatevi in me:Questi del vero amico son gl’uffici.

ArnaltaChe cinguetti ribalda?

LittoreChe vaneggi assassina?

neroneChe parli traditrice?

DrusillaContrastano in me stessaCon fiera concorrenzaAmor e l’innocenza.

neronePrima ch’aspri tormentiTi facciano sentir il mio disdegno,Or persuadi all’ostinato ingegnoDi confessar gl’orditi tradimenti.

DrusillaSignor, io fui la rea, ch’uccider volliL’innocente Poppea.

neroneConducete costeiAl carnefice omai,Fate ch’egli ritrovi,Con una morte a tempo,Qualche lunga, amarissima agonia,Ch’indificile forme inasprisca la morte a questa rea.

ScenA IVOttone, nerone, Drusilla, Littore con molti simili.

OttoneNo, no, questa sentenzaCada sopra di me che ne son degno.

DrusillaIo fui la rea ch’uccider volliL’innocente Poppea.

OttoneSiatemi testimoni, o cieli, o dei,Innocente è costei.


DrusillaQuest’alma, e questa manoFur le complici soli;A ciò m’indusse un odio occulto antico;Non cercar più, la verità ti dico.

OttoneInnocente, innocente è costei.Io con le vesti di Drusilla andai,Per ordine di Ottavia imperatriceAd attentar la morte di Poppea.Dammi signor, con la tua man la morte.

DrusillaIo fui la rea, ch’uccider volliL’innocente Poppea.

OttoneGiove, Nemesi, AstreaFulminate il mio capo,Che per giusta vendettaIl patibolo orrendo à me s’aspetta.

DrusillaÀ me s’aspetta!

OttoneÀ me s’aspetta!

DrusillaÀ me.

OttoneÀ me.

DrusillaÀ me.

OttoneÀ me s’aspetta.Dammi, signor, con la tua man la morte;E se non vuoi che la tua mano adorniDi decoro il mio fine,Mentre delle tue grazie io resto privoAll’infelicità lasciami vivo.

neroneVivi, ma va ne’ più remoti deserti Di titoli spogliato, e di fortuna,E serv’a te mendico, e derelitto,Di flagelli, e spelonca il tuo delitto.E tu ch’ardisti tanto, O nobile matrona,Per ricoprir costui

Drusilla This heart and this hand Were the only accomplices;I was motivated by an old and secret hatred.Seek no further, I am telling you the truth!

Ottone She is innocent! I went in Drusilla’s clothes, By orders of the empress Ottavia, To attempt to kill Poppea.Sire, put me to death with your own hand.

DrusillaI was the guilty one who tried to kill The innocent Poppea.

OttoneJove, Nemesis, Astrea,Strike my head with thunderboltsSo that for just revengeThe horrid gallows may await me!

DrusillaAwait me!

OttoneAwait me!

DrusillaMe!

Ottone Me!

DrusillaMe!

OttoneAwait me! Sire, put me to death with your own hand;And if you do not feel that my executionIs worthy of your hand,Let me live in misery Deprived of your grace.

nerone Live, but go to the remotest deserts, Stripped of titles and fortune, And may you be a neglected beggar, With scourges and caves as your delight. And you, O noble lady, Who risked so muchTo protect him,


Apportar salutifere bugie Vivi alla fama della mia clemenza,Vivi alle glorie della tua fortezza,E sia del sesso tuo nel secol nostroLa tua costanza un adorabil mostro.

DrusillaIn esilio con luiDeh, signor mio, consenti,Ch’io tragga i giorni ridenti.

neroneVanne come ti piace.

OttoneSignor, non son punito, anzi beato;La virtù di costeiSaran richezze, e glorie ai giorni miei.

neroneDelibero e risolvoCon editto solenne Il ripudio d’Ottavia,E con perpetuo esilioDa Roma io la proscrivo.Mandisi Ottavia al più vicino lido.Le s’apprest’in un momento Qualche spalmato legno,E sia commessa al bersaglio del vento Convengo giustamente risentirmi.Volate ad ubbidirmi.

ScenA VPoppea, nerone.

PoppeaSignor, oggi rinasco, e i primi fiati Di questa nova vita,Voglio che sian sospiriChe ti facciano fedeChe, rinata per te, languisco e moro,E morendo e vivendo ogn’or t’adoro.

neroneNon fu, non fu Drusilla, no,Ch’ucciderti tentò.

PoppeaChi fu, chi fu il fellone?

neroneIl nostro amico Ottone.

PoppeaEgli da se?

Telling lies for his salvation, Live in the renown of my mercy. Live in the glory of your valor, And may your constancy set an admirable exampleFor all women in our time.

Drusilla Ah, Sire, grantThat I may live out my days In happy exile with him.

nerone Go then, as you wish.

OttoneSire, I am not punished, but rather blessed;Her virtueShall be the riches and glory in my life.

neroneI now resolve and proclaim, With solemn edict, The repudiation of Ottavia; And to perpetual exile From Rome I banish her.Send Ottavia to the nearest shore.Prepare for her at once Some ready ship And commit her to the mercy of the winds.Thus will I be satisfied that justice is done.Hasten to obey me!

SCEnE vPoppea, nerone.

Poppea Sire, today I am reborn, and I want The first breaths Of this new life to be sighs,Which assure you That, reborn for you, I languish and die,And in dying and in living I always adore you.

nerone It was not DrusillaWho tried to kill you.

Poppea Who, who was the villain?

nerone Our friend Ottone.

Poppea Him alone?


nerone It was Ottavia’s idea.

Poppea Now you have just cause To proceed with the divorce.

nerone Today, as I have promised, You shall be my bride.

Poppea I never thought I’d see this precious day.

nerone By the throne of Jove, and by my own, I swear to you, today you shall beEmpress of Rome; On my royal word, I assure you.

Poppea On your word, your word…

nerone On my royal word.

PoppeaOn your royal word?

neroneOn my royal word, I assure you.

PoppeaIdol of my heart, the time has come thenWhen I shall indeed enjoy my love.

nerone and PoppeaNo more shall trouble or delay come between us. I have no heart in my bosom; You stole it from me, yes, yes,From my breast you snatched it, With the serene luster of your beautiful eyes. Because of you, my love, I have a heart no more. Clasp me in your loving armsYou who hold me spellbound…ah, These blessed hours will never end. If I am lost in you, In you shall I search for myself,In you shall I find myself,And then turn to lose myself again, my love,For in you I shall find myself lost forever.

neroneD’Ottavia fu il pensiero.

PoppeaOr hai giusta cagioneDi passar al ripudio.

neroneOggi, come promisi,Mia sposa tu sarai.

PoppeaSì caro dì veder non spero mai.

neronePer il trono di Giove, e per il mio,Oggi sarai, ti giuro,Di Roma imperatrice,In parola regal te n’assicuro.

PoppeaIn parola, in parola…

neroneIn parola regal.

PoppeaIn parola regal?

neroneIn parola regal te n’assicuro.

PoppeaIdolo del cor mio, giunta è pur l’oraCh’io del mio ben godrò.

nerone e PoppeaNe più s’interporrà noia o dimora.Cor nel petto non ho:Me’l rubasti, sì, sì,Dal sen me lo rapìDe’ tuoi begl’occhi il lucido sereno,Per te, ben mio, non ho più core in seno,Stringemi tra le braccia innamorateChi mi trafisse…ohimè,Non interrotte avrò l’ore beate,Se son perdut’ in te,In te mi cercarò,In te mi trovarò,E tornerò a riperdermi ben mio,Che sempre in te perduto mi troverò.


SCEnE vIOttavia.

Ottavia Farewell Rome, farewell my country, friends, farewell. Innocent, I must depart from you. I go to suffer exile in bitter tears; I cross the deaf seas in despair. The air, which hour by hour Shall receive my sighs, Will carry them, in my heart’s name, To see, to kiss the walls of my country; And I, I shall remain alone, Alternately weeping and pacing, Teaching pity to the cold stones. Row, now and forever, wicked people,Distance me from these beloved shores.Ah, sacrilegious sorrow, You prevent me from weeping When I leave my country, Nor can I shed a single tear While I say to my family and to Rome: farewell.

SCEnE vIIArnalta.

Arnalta Today Poppea will be Empress of Rome;I, who am her nurse, Shall ascend the stairs of greatness:No, I’ll no longer lower myself with the commoners; Those who used to call me “you,”Now, in a new tone of voice, Sing out to me “Your ladyship.” Whoever meets me in the streetSays of me: “What a young lady, and still beautiful,” And yet I well know that I resembleA Sibyl from ancient legend; But everyone will flatter me thus, Believing they can win me over,To intercede for favors from Poppea:And I, pretending not to understand their deceit,Will drink praises from their cup of lies.I was born a servant and shall die a lady.I will not die willingly;If were I to be reborn one day,I would like to be born a lady, and die a servant.For one who leaves the world in high estate Goes weeping to his death,But a servantHas a happier fate:Seeing the end of his labors, he loves death.

ScenA VIOttavia.

OttaviaAddio Roma, addio Patria, amici addio.Innocente da voi partir conviene.Vado a patir l’esilio in pianti amari,Navigo disperata i sordi mari.L’aria, che d’ora in oraRiceverà i miei fiati,Li porterà, per nome del cor mio,A veder, a baciar le patrie mura,Ed io, starò solinga,Alternando le mosse ai pianti, ai passi,Insegnando pietade ai freddi sassi.Remigate oggi mai perverse genti,Allontanarmi da gl’amati lidi.Ahi, sacrilego duolo,Tu m’interdici il piantoQuando lascio la patria,Nè stillar una lacrima poss’ioMentre dico ai parenti e a Roma: addio.

ScenA VIIArnalta.

ArnaltaOggi sarà PoppeaDi Roma imperatrice;Io, che son la nutrice,Ascenderò delle grandezze i gradi:No, no, col volgo io non m’abbasso più;Chi mi diede del tu,Or con nova armoniaGorgheggierammi il “Vostra Signoria”Chi m’incontra per stradaMi dice: “fresca donna e bella ancora”, Ed io, pur so che sembroDelle Sibille il leggendario antico;Ma ogn’un così m’adula,Credendo guadagnarmiPer interceder grazie da Poppea:Ed io fingendo di non capir le frodi,In coppa di bugia bevo le lodi.Io nacqui serva, e morirò matrona.Mal volentier morrò;Se rinascessi un dì,Vorrei nascer matrona, e morir serva.Chi lascia le grandezzePiangendo a morte va;Ma, ma, chi servendo sta,Con più felice sorte,Come fin degli stenti ama la morte.


SCEnE vIIInerone, Poppea, Consoli, Tribuni, Amore, and Chorus.

nerone Ascend, O my delightTo the ultimate pinnacle Of supreme height,Flattered by the glories Which aspire to serve you as handmaidens,Acclaimed by the earth and the stars;And inscribed by your triumph, Among the most precious trophies, Adored Poppea, is my love.

Poppea My mind, astonished At this unaccustomed splendor, Almost loses the capacity To thank you, Sire.

nerone Here come the consuls and the tribunes To pay you homage, O darling; By merely gazing at you The people and the senate Now at last are blessed.

Ritornello or Sinfonia

ConsoliTo you, august sovereign

Consoli and TribuniWith the universal consent of Rome We crown your head;

ConsoliTo you, Asia and Africa fall prostrate;

TribuniTo you, Europe and the sea which surrounds and protects

Consoli and TribuniThis happy empire, Now consecrate and present The imperial crown of the world.

Ritornello or Sinfonia

AmoreLet us descend, Winged company.

ScenA VIII nerone, Poppea, consoli, Tribuni, Amore, e coro.

neroneAscendi, o mia diletta,Della sovrana altezzaAll’apice sublime, o mia diletta,Blandita dalle glorieCh’ambiscono servirti come ancelle,Acclamata dal mondo e dalle stelle;Scrivi del tuo trionfoTra i più cari trofei,Adorata Poppea, gl’affetti miei.

PoppeaIl mio genio confuso,Al non usato lume,Quasi perde il costume, Signor, di ringraziarti.

neroneEcco vengono i consoli e i tribuniA riverirti, o caraNel solo rimirarti,Il popol e’l senatoOmai comincia a divenir beato.

Ritornello o Sinfonia

consoliA te sovrana augusta,

consoli e TribuniCon il consenso universal di Roma,Indiademiam la chioma.

consoli A te l’Asia, a te l’Africa s’atterra;

TribuniA te l’Europa, e’l mar che cinge e serra

consoli e TribuniQuest’imperio felice,Ora consacra e donaQuesta del mondo imperial corona.

Ritornello o Sinfonia

AmoreScendiam, scendiamo,Compagni alati.


Amore, Fortuna, and virtùLet us fly To the loving spouses.

AmoreIf the consuls and tribunes, Poppea, have crowned you empressOver provinces and realms,Now Amore crowns you, happy lady,As empress over all beautiful women.

Chorus Now let us sing merrilyOn earth and in heavenOf this abundant joy,And in every clime, in every countryBe heard to resound “Poppea and Nerone.”

Ritornello

nerone and Poppea I gaze at you, I rejoice in you, I clasp you, I entwine you, I suffer no longer, I die no longer,O my life, O my treasure. I am yours…Yours am I…My hope, say it, say, You are my hopeMy idol, say it, say, You are,Yes, my love, Yes, my heart, my life, yes.I gaze at you, I rejoice in you, I clasp you, I entwine you, I suffer no longer, I die no longer,O my life, O my treasure.

End of the opera. u

Amore, Fortuna, e VirtùVoliam, voliamo, Ai sposi amati.

AmoreSe i consoli e i tribuni, Poppea, t’han coronatoSopra provincie e regni,Or ti corona Amor, donna felice,Come sopra le belle imperatrice.

coro Or cantiamo giocondi,In terra, e in CieloIl gioir sovrabbondi,E in ogni clima, in ogni regioneSi senta rimbombar “Poppea e Nerone”.

Ritornello

Nerone e PoppeaPur ti miro, Pur ti godo,Pur ti stringo, Pur t’annodo,Più non peno, Più non moro,O mia vita, o mi tesoro.Io son tua… Tuo son io…Speme mia, dillo, dì,Tu sei pur, speme miaL’idol mio, dillo, dì,Tu sei pur,Sì, mio ben, Sì, mio cor, mia vita, sì.Pur ti miro, Pur ti godo,Pur ti stringo, Pur t’annodo,Più non peno, Più non moro,O mia vita, o mi tesoro.

Il fine dell’Opera u

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