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Indian Queen


First Music - First Aire

 First Music - Second Aire

 Second Music - First Aire

 Second Music - Second Aire (Hornpipe)



 The curtain rises and an Indian Boy and Girl are discovered sleeping under two Plantain trees. During a tune expressing alarm the Boy wakes and sings.

Trumpet Tune

Solo (Boy): Wake, Quivera, wake

Wake, Quivera, wake; our soft rest must cease,
and fly together with our country's peace;

No more must we sleep under plaintain shade,
Which neither heat could pierce nor cold invade;
Where bount'ous nature never feels decay,
And opening buds drive falling fruits away

Solo (Girl): Why should men quarrel?

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.

Solo (Boy): By ancient prophesies

By ancient prophecies we have been told
Our land shall be subdued by one more old;
and see that world’s already hither come.

 Duet (Boy & Quivera): If these be they

If these be they, we welcome then our doom.
Their gentle looks are such, that mercy flows from thence,
more gentle than our native innocence.
By their protection let us beg to live;

They came not here to conquer but forgive.
If so your goodness may your pow'r express;
And we shall judge both best by our success.

Trumpet tune

ACT 2 - The Masque of Fame and Envy Fame

 Zempoalla is seated on the throne, frowning upon her attendants. Fame and his chorus bravely sing Zempoalla's praises while Envy and his snake assistants allude to Montezuma.


Solo (Fame) & Chorus: I come to sing

I (we) come to sing great Zempoalla's story.
whose beauteous sight
So charming bright

Outshines the lustre of glory.

Trio (Envy & two assistants): What flatt’ring noise

What flatt'ring noise is this,
At which my snakes all hiss?

I hate to see fond tongues advance
High as the Gods the slaves of chance.

Solo (Fame): Scorn'd Envy

Scorn’d Envy,
here's nothing that thou canst blast:
Her glories are too bright to be o'ercast.

Solo (Envy): I fly from the place

I fly from the place where flattery reigns.
See those mighty things that before
Such slaves like gods did adore
Contemn'd and un pittyd in chains.
I hate to see fond tongues advance
high as the Gods the slaves of chance.
What flatt'ring noise is this,
At which my snakes all hiss?

Solo (Fames): Begone, curst fiends of Hell

Begone, curst fiends of Hell,
Where noisome vapours dwell,
While I her triumph sound,
To fill the univers around.

Dance, Solo (Fame) & Chorus: I come to sing great Zempoalla's story


After a triumphant dance celebrating the Indian's victory, Zempoalla finds the conjurer Ismeron in his 'dismal den' and recounts a dream she has had. Ismeron conjures up the God of Dreams but the God refuses to give an interpretation. The music, however, imparts an unspoken message: Zempoalla is doomed. The masque that follows is to divert Zempoalla's depression. The gloom is swept away by a Trumpet Overture and the Spirits encourage Zempoalla to forget about her love for Montezuma.


Solo (Ismeron): You twice ten hundred deities

You twice ten hundred deities
To whom we daily sacrifice;
You 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 adder's pride,
That along the clifts 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
The breast, thy shoulders and thy neck,
From thy sleeping mansion rise
And open their unwilling eyes,
While bubbling springs their music keep
that use to lull thee to thy sleep.

The God Of Dreams rises

Solo (God of Dreams): Seek not to know

Seek not to know what must be reveal'd;
Joys only flow where Fate 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 free,
Who 'us shall wear a crown or who shall bleed.
All must submit to their apointed doom;
Fate and misfortune will too quickly come.
Let me no more with pow'rfull charms be prest,
I am forbid by fate to tell the rest.

The God Of Dreams descends

Trumpet Overture

 Duet (Aerial Spirits): Ah! How happy are we

Ah! How happy are we,
From human passions free,
Those wild tennants of the breast
No, never can disturb our rest.
Yet we pity tender souls
Who the tyrant Love controls.
Ah! How happy are we, from human passions free.

Duet (Another two Aerial Spirits) & Chorus: We the spirits of the air

We the spirits of the air
That of human things take care
Out of pity now descend
To forewarn what woes attend.

Greatness clog'd with scorn decays,
With the slave no empire stays.
We the spirits…

Cease to languish then in vain,
Since never to be lov’d again.
We the spirits…

Solo (Zempoalla): I attempt from Love's sickness

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

For Love has more pow'r and less mercy than fate
To make us seek ruin and on those that hate.
I attempt from Love's sickness

Third Act Tune (Rondeau)

 ACT 4

Orazia and her lover, Montezuma, are held captive by the villain Traxalla, who offers to spare the hero if Orazia will submit. Orazia sings of her love and torment.

Prelude & Song (Orazia): They tell us that your mighty powers

They tell us that your mighty 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 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 could love me no more
And I in return my adorer adore

O let his dear life the, kind Gods, be your care
For I in your blessings have no other share.


 The Temple of the Sun, all of gold, is ready for the Sacrifice.


Chorus: While thus we bow

While thus we bow before your shrine,
That you may hear great pow'rs divine,
All living things shall in your praises join.

Solo (High Priest) & Chorus: You, who at the altar stand

You, who at the altar stand
Waiting for the dread command,
The fatal word shall soon be heard.
Answer then, is all prepar'd?
(Chorus - Alls prepar'd.)

Let all unhallow'd souls be gone
Before our sacred rites come on
Take care that this be done.
(Chorus: All is done.)

Now in procession walk along
And then begin your solemn song.

Symphony & Chorus: All dismal sounds

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 to be trusted here below.

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Copyright © 2004 Tore Frantzvåg Steenslid
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