The Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation Z196 (1693)

There is no better demonstration of Purcell’s dramatic genius than, paradoxically, his sacred song The Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation from the second volume of the Harmonia Sacra. A setting of a paraphrase from St Luke by Nahum Tate (Purcell’s librettist for Dido and Aeneas) it is a cantata consisting largely of anxious coloratura and emotionally agonised recitative, reaching a dramatic climax on the Virgin’s unanswered appeals to Gabriel and an extreme of pathos on her farewell to “flatt’ring hopes.” Before the enigmatic ending, the pain is offset by two short passages of melodious song - “She Judah’s daughter once caressed” and “How shall my soul its motions guide.”

Sweeter than roses from Pausanius Z585 (1695)

I take no pleasure in the sun’s bright beams Z388 (1681)

I attempt from love’s sickness to fly from The Indian Queen Z630 (1695)

Oh, let me weep from The Fairy Queen Z629 (1692)

There is no better demonstration of Purcell’s dramatic genius than, paradoxically, his sacred song The Blessed Virgin’s Expostulation. A setting of a paraphrase from St Luke by Nahum Tate (Purcell’s librettist for Dido and Aeneas) it is a cantata consisting largely of emotionally agonised recitative with two short passages of melodious arioso towards the end. In direct contrast, the recitative introduction to Sweeter than roses, one of the last of many items of incidental music for the London theatre, is carried on a sustained and bewitchingly inflected vocal line before the enchanted lover breaks into excited song on “Then shot like fire.”

The three remaining Purcell items are inspired by the pain of love in one way or another. The earliest of them, I take no pleasure in the sun’s bright beams, is the dying lament of an unrequited lover in a sensitively through-composed setting of words by an unknown poet. I attempt from love’s sickness to fly, a song from The Indian Queen to words by Dryden and Howard, is beautifully poised round its aching ritornello “Since I am myself my own fever and pain.” Sung at the request of Oberon in The Fairy Queen, the plaint Oh let me weep has nothing to do with A Midsummer Night’s Dream on which the opera is loosely based. It is, however, one of the most expressive of all Purcell’s airs, poignantly cast in ternary form over a chromatic bass in the outer sections, its eloquence heightened by the dialogue between voice and accompaniment.