# The Indian Queen

The Indian Queen is a semi-opera by the English Baroque composer Henry Purcell. The original play was written by John Dryden and Sir Robert Howard in 1664, but Purcell only came to adapt the work to the semi-opera format in 1695. However, due to an unknown fatal illness Purcell died before the work could be completed, and the music for much of the final act is that of his brother, Daniel. The Indian Queen contains the well-known and popular soprano rondeau air; "I attempt from love's sickness".Warning: template has been deprecated.

## Act I

BOY
    Wake, Quivera, wake, our soft rest must cease,
    And fly together with our country's peace;
    No more must we sleep under plantain's shade,
    Which neither heat could pierce nor cold invade;
    Where bounteous nature never feels decay,
    And opening buds drive falling fruits away.
GIRL
    Why should men quarrel here, where all possess
    As much as they can hope for by success?
    None can have most where nature is so kind
    As to exceed man's use, though not his mind.
BOY
    By ancient prophecy we have been told,
    Our land shall be subdu'd by one more old;
    And see that world already hither come.
GIRL, BOY
    If these be they we welcome then our doom.
BOY
    Their looks are such that mercy flows from hence,
    More gentle than our native innocence;
    By their protection let us beg to live:
    They come not here to conquer, but forgive.
GIRL, BOY
    If so your goodness may your power express,
    And we shall judge both best by our success.

## Act II

FAME AND CHORUS
    I come to sing great Zempoalla's story
    Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
    Outshines the lustre of glory.
    We come to sing great Zempoalla's story
    Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
    Outshines the lustre of glory.
ENVY AND TWO FOLLOWERS
    What flattering noise is this,
    At which my snakes all hiss?
    I hate to see fond tongues advance
    High as the Gods the slaves of chance.
    What flattering noise is this,
    At which my snakes all hiss?
FAME
    Scorn'd Envy, here's nothing that thou canst blast:
    Her glories are too bright to be o'ercast.
ENVY
    I fly from the place where flattery reigns,
    See, see those might things that before
    Such slaves like gods did adore
    Condemn'd and unpitied in chains.
    I fly from the place where flattery reigns.
    I hate to see fond tongues advance
    High as the Gods the slaves of chance.
    What flattering noise is this,
    At which my snakes all hiss?
FAME
    Begone, curst fiends of Hell,
    Sink down, where noisome vapours dwell,
    While I her triumph sound,
    To fill the universe around.
FAME AND CHORUS
    I come to sing great Zempoalla's story
    Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
    Outshines the lustre of glory.
    We come to sing great Zempoalla's story
    Whose beauteous sight so charming bright
    Outshines the lustre of glory.

## Act III

ISMERON
    Ye twice ten hundred deities
    To whom we daily sacrifice,
    Ye pow'rs that dwell with fates below
    And see what men are doom'd to do,
    Where elements in discord dwell:
    Thou god of sleep arise and tell
    Great Zempoalla what strange fate
    Must on her dismal vision wait.
    By the croaking of the toad
    In their caves that make abode,
    Earthy dun that pants for breath
    With her swell'd sides full of death,
    By the crested adders' pride
    That along the cliffs do glide,
    By thy visage fierce and black,
    By the death's head on thy back,
    By the twisted serpents plac'd
    For a girdle round thy waist,
    By the hearts of gold that deck
    Thy breast, thy shoulders and thy neck,
    From thy sleeping mansion rise
    And open thy unwilling eyes,
    While bubbling springs their music keep,
    That used to lull thee in thy sleep.
GOD OF DREAMS
    Seek not to know what must not be reveal'd,
    Joys only flow when hate is most conceal'd.
    Too busy man would find his sorrows more
    If future fortunes he should know before;
    For by that knowledge of his destiny
    He would not live at all but always die.
    Enquire not then who shall from bonds be freed,
    Who'tis shall wear a crown and who shall bleed.
    All must submit to their appointed doom,
    Fate and misfortune will too quickly come.
    Let me no more with powerful charms be press'd
    I am forbid by fate to tell the rest.
AERIAL SPIRITS
    Ah, how happy are we!
    From human passions free.
    Ah, how happy are we!
    Those wild tenants of the breast,
    No, never can disturb our rest.
    Ah, how happy are we!
Yet we pity tender souls
    Whom the tyrant of love controls,
    Ah, how happy are we,
    From human passions free!
We the spirits of the air
    That of human things take care,
    Out of pity now descend
    To forewarn what woes attend.
Greatness clogg'd with scorn decays,
    With the slave no empire stays.
    We the spirits of the air
    That of human things take care,
    Out of pity now descend
    To forewarn what woes attend.
    Cease to languish the in vain
    Since never to be loved again.
We the spirits of the air
    That of human things take care,
    Out of pity now descend
    To forewarn what woes attend.
SOPRANO SOLO
    I attempt from love's sickness to fly in vain,
    Since I am myself my own fever and pain.
    No more now, fond heart, with pride no more swell;
    Thou canst not raise forces enough to rebel.
    I attempt from love's sickness to fly in vain,
    Since I am myself my own fever and pain.
    For love has more power and less mercy than fate,
    To make us seek ruin and love those that hate.
    I attempt from love's sickness to fly in vain,
    Since I am myself my own fever and pain.

## Act IV

ORAZIA
    They tell us that your might powers above
    Make perfect your joys and your blessings by love,
    Ah! Why do you suffer the blessing that's there
    To give a poor lover such a sad torments here?
    Yet though for my passion such grief I endure,
    My love shall like yours still be constant and pure.
    To suffer for him gives an ease to my pains;
    There's joy in my grief and there's freedom in chains.
    If I were divine he cou'd love me no more,
    And I in return my adorer adore,
    O, let his dear life then, kind gods, be your care,
    For I in your blessing have no other share.

## Act V

CHORUS
    While thus we bow before your shrine,
    That you may hear great pow'rs divine,
    All living things shall in your praises join.
HIGH PRIEST
    You who at the altar stand
    Waiting for the dread command
    The fatal word shall soon be heard,
    Answer then, is all prepared?
CHORUS
    All's prepared.
HIGH PRIEST
    Let all unallow'd souls begone
    Before our sacred rites come on.
    Take care that this be also done.
CHORUS
    All is done.
HIGH PRIEST
    Now in procession walk along
    And then begin your solemn song.
CHORUS
    All dismal sounds thus on these off'rings wait,
    Your pow'r shown by their untimely fate;
    While by such various fates we learn to know,
    There's nothing, no, nothing to be trusted here below.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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