Se tu, dolce mio ben (Luca Marenzio)

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  • (Posted 2017-06-20)  CPDL #45063:          (Finale 2014)
Editor: Willem Verkaik (submitted 2017-06-20).   Score information: Letter, 4 pages, 389 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: MusicXML source file(s) in compressed .mxl format.

General Information

Title: Se tu, dolce mio ben
Composer: Luca Marenzio
Lyricist: Giovanni Battista Guarini

Number of voices: 5vv   Voicing: SSAAB

Genre: SecularMadrigal

Language: Italian
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1598 in L'ottavo libro de madrigali a cinque voci, no. 15.1

Description:There are three parts:

External websites:

Original text and translations

Italian.png Italian text

Se tu, dolce mio ben, mi saettasti,
Quel ch'è tuo saettasti
E feristi quel segno
Ch'è proprio del tuo strale.
Quelle mani a ferirmi
Han seguito lo stil de tuoi begl' occhi.
Ecco, Silvio, colei che in odio hai tanto,
Eccola in quella guisa
Che la volevi a punto.
Bramastila ferir: ferita l'hai.
Bramastila tua preda: eccola preda.
Bramastila al fin morta: eccola à morte.
Che vuoi tu più da lei? Che ti può dare
Più di questo Dorinda? Ah, garzon crudo,
Ah, cor senza pietà, tu non credesti
La piaga che per te mi fece Amore;
Poi quest' hor tu negar della tua mano?
Non hai creduto il sangue
Ch'io versava da gl'occhi;
Crederai questo che'l mio fianco versa?
Il pastor fido, IV ix 94-113. ("dolce mio ben" is an interpolation)

English.png English translation

«If you, my sweet love, have struck me with your arrow,
you have struck that which is yours,
and wounded that target
which is proper for your dart.
Those hands, in wounding me,
have followed the dagger of your fair eyes.
Behold, Silvio, her whom you hate so much,
behold her in precisely that state
in which you have wished her.
You sought to wound her: you have wounded her.
You sought her as your prey: behold her, your prey.
You sought her finally dead: behold her at the point of death.
What more can you want from her? What more than this
can Dorinda give you? Ah, cruel lad,
heart without pity, you did not believe
the injury that Love gave me for you;
can you now deny that given by your hand?
You did not believe the blood
that poured forth from my eyes;
will you believe that which my side pours forth?»

Translation by Campelli

Original text and translations may be found at Ecco Silvio.