Texts of the songs


Performed by Christopher Davey, tenor; Shirley Davey, soprano; John Allen, lute and tenor viol.

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Fortune, laisse moy | Go, crystal tears | Now, o now | Ostinato vo' seguire | There is a garden | To the foot of this page

Fortune, laisse moy

Fortune, laisse moy (3.2 MB) of Pierre Attaingnant, from Quarante et deux chansons musicales, Paris, 1529.

Fortune, laisse moy la vie,
Puis que tu m'as osté les biens;
Je te desclaire qu'ilz sont tiens,
Mets donc-ques fin à ton en vie.

Helas, je croy tu as envie
Sur m'amye et aussi sur moy;
Helas, Cupido, prens esmoy
Et nour secours, las, je t'en prie.

Ung jour en la chambre m'amye
Y fuz je pour m'y resjouir;
D'ung vieillart par ardant desir
Me fur donné melencolie.

Fortune, leave me my life,
Since you have taken my goods;
I declare that they are yours,
So bring your malice to an end!

Alas, I believe you have designs
Against my love and myself;
Alas, Cupid, be moved to pity
And succour us, ah me, I beg.

One day in my love's chamber
I went to rejoice;
As if an old man, by my burning desire,
I was beset by melancholy.


Fortune, laisse moy (1.1 MB) Alternative arrangement: first verse, two voices and tenor viol.


Fortune, laisse moy | Go, crystal tears | Now, o now | Ostinato vo' seguire | There is a garden | To the head of this page

Go, crystal tears

(1.1 MB), first verse, of John Dowland, from The Firste Booke of Songes or Ayres of fowre partes wih Tableture for the Lute, London, 1597.

Go crystal tears, like to the morning show'rs,
And sweetly weep into thy lady's breast.
And as the dews revive the drooping flow'rs,
So let your drops of pity be address'd,
To quicken up the thoughts of my desert,
Which sleeps too sound whilst I from her depart.

Haste, hapless sighs, and let your burning breath
Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart,
Whose frozen rigour like forgetful Death,
Feels never any touch of my desert:
Yet sighs and tears to her I sacrifice,
Both from a spotless heart and patient eyes.


Fortune, laisse moy | Go, crystal tears | Now, o now | Ostinato vo' seguire | There is a garden | To the head of this page

Now, o now

Now, o now, I needs must part (2.7 MB) of John Dowland, from The Firste Booke of Songes or Ayres of fowre partes wih Tableture for the Lute, London, 1597.

Now, O now, I needs must part,
Parting though I absent mourn.
Absence can no joy impart:
Joy once fled cannot return.
While I live I needs must love,
Love lives not when Hope is gone.
Now at last Despair doth prove,
Love divided loveth none.
Sad despair doth drive me hence,
This depair unkindness sends.
If that parting be offence,
It is she which then offends.

Dear, when I am from thee gone,
Gone are all my joys at once.
I loved thee and thee alone,
In whose love I joyed once.
And although your sight I leave,
Sight wherein my joys do lie,
Till that death do sense bereave,
Never shall affection die.

Sad despair doth drive me hence,
This depair unkindness sends.
If that parting be offence,
It is she which then offends.

Dear, if I do not return,
Love and I shall die together.
For my absence never mourn,
Whom you might have joyed ever:
Part we must though now I die,
Die I do to part with you.
Him Depair doth cause to lie,
Who both liv'd and dieth true.

Sad despair doth drive me hence,
This depair unkindness sends.
If that parting be offence,
It is she which then offends.


Fortune, laisse moy | Go, crystal tears | Now, o now | Ostinato vo' seguire | There is a garden | To the head of this page

Ostinato vo' seguire

Ostinato vo' seguire (960 KB) of Bartolomeo Tromboncino, c. 1528.

Ostinato vo' seguire
la magnanima mia impresa.
Fa mi amor qual voi offesa
s'io dovessi ben morire.
Ostinato vo' seguire
la magnanima mia impresa.

Steadfastly I shall pursue
my noble enterprise.
Love hurts me as much as you do,
so I might as well die.
Steadfastly I shall pursue
my noble enterprise.


Fortune, laisse moy | Go, crystal tears | Now, o now | Ostinato vo' seguire | There is a garden | To the head of this page

There is a garden

There is a Garden in her face (1.7 MB) of Thomas Campion, from The Third and Fovrth Booke of Ayres: Composed by Thomas Campian. So as they may be expressed by one Voyce, with a Violl, Lute, or Opharion, London, 1618.

There is a Garden in her face,
Where Roses and white Lilies grow.
A heav'ly paradice is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits doe flow.
There Cherries grow which none may buy,
Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

Those Cherries fayrely doe enclose
Of Orient Pearle a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter showes,
They looke like Rose-buds fill'd with snowe.
Yet them nor Peere, nor Prince can buy,
Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.

Her Eyes like Angels watch them still;
Her Browes like bended bowes doe stand,
Threatning with piercing frownes to kill
All that attempt with eye or hand
Those sacred Cherries to come nigh,
Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry.


Fortune, laisse moy | Go, crystal tears | Now, o now | Ostinato vo' seguire | There is a garden | To the head of this page

Recorded on 4th November 1989 in Headingley, Leeds, U.K.

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