Acis and Galatea, HWV 49 (George Frideric Handel)

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Music files

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This page is awaiting cleanup. Description of cleanup required: page could use list of numbers; at least rest of page numbers for split-up edition Richard Mix 22:01, 12 April 2010 (UTC)

• CPDL #10037: Contents & notes-p14 pp15-26 (#2 cont. - #7) Section-3 Section-4 Section-5 Section-6 Section-7 Section-8
  

Editor: Michael Gibson (submitted 2006-01-29).   Score information: Letter    (each is 12 pages, 1.48, 1.38, 1.45, 1.43, 1.72, 1.45, 1.37, 1.75 Mbytes respectively) Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: 8 PDF Sections make up complete vocal score. MIDI files are zipped. Based on Joseph Barnby's SATB rearrangement of choruses.

Excerpts

• CPDL #17685: recit: I Rage, I Melt, I Burn! & aria: O Ruddier than the Cherry

Contributor: David Newman (submitted 2008-07-23).   Score information: Letter, 7 pages, 303 kbytes    Copyright: Public Domain

Edition notes: Edition in G Minor, piano reduction by Ebenezer Prout

General Information

Title: Acis and Galatea, HWV 49
Composer: George Frideric Handel

Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: SATTB with Solo STTB
Soli:

Galatea - soprano

Acis - tenor

Damon - tenor (treble in the 1718 version)

Polyphemus - bass

Coridon - soprano (some versions only)

Genre: Secular, Opera

Language: English
Instruments: Orchestra
Published:

Description:

External websites:

• Entry at "Art Song Central" for this song.
• Wikipedia's entry for "Acis and Galatea".
• Synopsis of the opera, "Acis and Galatea".
• Libretto of the opera "Acis and galatea".
• complete scanned score of Chrysander edition from the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek.

Original text and translations

English text

Recit:

I rage, I rage, I melt, I burn!

The feeble god has stabbed me to the heart.

Thou trusty pine, prop of my god-like steps,

I lay thee by!

Bring me a hundred reeds of decent growth,

to make a pipe for my capacious mouth;

in soft enchanting accents

let me breathe sweet Galatea’s beauty, and my love.

Aria:

O ruddier than the cherry,

O sweeter than the berry,

O nymph more bright than moonshine night,

Like kidlings blithe and merry!

Ripe as the melting cluster,

No lily has such lustre;

Yet hard to tame as raging flame,

And fierce as storms that bluster!

Text and translations need to be added.