Henry Purcell - King Arthur - ACT I, sc. 2. 4. "Woden, first to thee"; 5. "Brave Souls"; 6. "I call ye all" | Текст песни

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• Henry Purcell
• King Arthur - ACT I, sc. 2. 4. "Woden, first to thee"; 5. "Brave Souls"; 6. "I call ye all"

ACT ONE

FIRST SCENE
King Arthur has secured all of his kingdom except Kent in the course of the battles with the Saxons; they are led by Oswald, who has set out to win not only his throne but his love, the blind Emmeline, daughter of Conon, Duke of Cornwall. Arthur takes leave of her for the final, decisive battle against the heathen invader.

SECOND SCENE
A place of heathen worship; the three saxon gods, Woden, Thor and Freya placed on pedestals; an altar. Oswald, his magician Osmond and the earthly evil spirit Grimbald have brought victims for a sacrifice, to ensure victory in battle, and are preparing for the rites. Grimbald goes to the door, and re-enters with six Saxons in white, with swords in their hands. They range, themselves three and three in opposition to each other. The rest of the stage is filled with priests and singers.

BASS
Woden, first to thee
A milk-white steed, in battle won,
We have sacrific'd.

CHORUS
We have sacrific'd.

TENOR II
Let our next oblation be
To Thor, thy thund'ring son,
Of such another.

CHORUS
We have sacrific'd.

BASS
A third (of Friesland breed was he)
To Woden's wife, and to Thor's mother;
And now we have aton'd all three.

CHORUS
We have sacrific'd.

TENOR I & II
The white horse neigh'd aloud.
To Woden thanks we render,
To Woden we have vow'd,
To Woden, our defender.

CHORUS
To Woden thanks we render,
To Woden we have vow'd,
To Woden, our defender.

SOPRANO
The lot is cast, and Tanfan pleas'd;
Of mortal cares you shall be eas'd.

CHORUS
Brave souls, to be renown'd in story.
Honour prizing,
Death despising,
Fame acquiring
By expiring,
Die and reap the fruit of glory.

TENOR I
I call you all
To Woden's Hall,
Your temples round
With ivy bound
In goblets crown'd,
And plenteous bowls of burnish'd gold,
Where ye shall laugh
And dance and quaff
The juice that makes the Britons bold.

CHORUS
To Woden's Hall all,
Where in plenteous bowls of burnish'd gold,
We shall laugh
And dance and quaff
The juice that makes the Britons bold.

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