The Martyr of Antioch


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INTRODUCTION

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SCENE I: THE FRONT OF THE TEMPLE OF APOLLO

No. 1: Chorus of Sun Worshippers

MIDI FILE [19' 06"; 20KB]

Youths:
Lord of the golden day that hold'st thy fiery way,
Out dazzling from the heavens each waning star,
What time Aurora fair with loose dew dropping hair
And the swift hours have yoked thy radiant car.
Lord of the golden day that hold'st thy fiery way,
What time Aurora fair with loose dew dropping hair
And the swift hours have yoked,
Have yoked thy radiant car.

Apollo
Thou mountest heav'ns blue steep and the universal sleep
From the wide world withdraws its misty veil.
Thou mountest heav'ns blue steep and the universal sleep
From the wide world withdraws its misty veil.
Thou mountest heav'ns blue steep and the universal sleep
From the wide world withdraws its misty veil.

The silent cities wake, th'encamped armies shake
Their unfurl'd banners in the fresh'ning gale.
Thou mountest heav'ns blue steep and the universal sleep
From the wide world withdraws its misty veil.
The silent cities wake, th'encamped armies shake
Their unfurl'd banners in the fresh'ning gale.
The silent cities wake, th'encamped armies shake
Their unfurl'd banners in the fresh'ning gale.
Thou mountest heav'ns blue steep and the universal sleep
From the wide world withdraws its misty veil.
The basking earth displays her green breast in the blaze,
And all the Gods upon Olympus' head
In haughty joy behold thy trampling coursers bold,

Youths:Maidens:
In haughty joy behold
Thy trampling coursers boldLord of the speaking lyre
Obey thy sov'reign rein with stately tread.That with a touch of fire

Maidens:
Strik'st music which delays the charmed spheres
And with a soft control dost steal away the soul
And draw from melting eyes delicious tears.

Thou the dead hero's name dost sanctify to fame,
Embalmed in rich and ever fragrant verse,
Embalmed in rich and ever fragrant verse.

In ev'ry sunlit clime, through all eternal time,
In ev'ry sunlit clime, through all eternal time,
In ev'ry clime, through all eternal time,
Assenting lands his deathless deeds,
His deathless deeds rehearse.
Assenting lands his deathless deeds rehearse.
In ev'ry sunlit clime, through all eternal time,
In ev'ry sunlit clime, through all eternal time,
In ev'ry clime, through all eternal time,
Assenting lands, assenting lands his deathless deeds,
His deathless deeds rehearse.
Assenting lands his deathless deeds rehearse,
His deathless deeds rehearse.
Thou the dead hero's name dost sanctify to fame.

Julia
Julia:
The love-sick damsel, laid beneath the myrtle shade,
Drinks from thy cup of song with raptured ear,
And dead to all around save the sweet bliss of sound,
Sits heedless that her soul's belov'd is near.
The love-sick damsel, laid beneath the myrtle shade,
Drinks from thy cup of song with raptured ear,
Dead to all around save the sweet bliss of sound,
Sits heedless that her soul's belov'd is near,
Sits heedless that her soul's belov'd is near,
Dead to all around,

Maidens:
The love-sick damsel, laid beneath the myrtle shade,

Julia:Maidens:
Drinks from thy cup of song with raptured ear,Drinks from thy cup of song with
And dead to all around
sits heedless that her soul's belov'd is near,
with rapture'd ear.
Dead to all around.

Youths:
Lord of the unerring bow, whose fateful arrows go
Like shafts of lightning from the quiv'ring string,
Lord of the unerring bow, whose fateful arrows go
Like shafts of lightning from the quiv'ring string,
Pierced through each scaly fold, enormous Python rolled,
While thou triumphant to the sky didst spring.
And scorn and beauteous ire, steeped with ennobling fire
Thy quivering lip and all thy beardless face.
Loose flew thy clustering hair, while thou the trackless air
Didst walk in all thine own celestial grace.
Loose flew thy clustering hair, while thou the trackless air
Didst walk in all thine own celestial grace.

Maidens:
Lord of the holy spring where the Nine Sisters sing,
Their dearest haunt our Syrian Castaly;
There oft the enchanted maid, by the cool waters laid,
Feels all her labouring bosom full of thee,
Lord of the holy spring.

Youths & Maidens:
The Kings of earth stand near in pale religious fear,
The purple sovereign of Imperial Rome
In solemn awe hath heard the wild prophetic word
That spake the cloud-wrapt mystery of his doom.

Youths:Maidens:
Lord of the holy spring
Lord of the unerring bow,
Where the Nine Sisters sing,
Whose fateful arrows goLord of the
Like shafts of lightningholy spring
from the quiv'ring stringWhere the Nine Sisters sing.
Lord of th'unerring bowLord of the
Whose fateful arrows goholy spring
Like shafts of lightning from the quiv'ring stringWhere the Nine Sisters sing
(Lord) of th'unerring bowTheir
Whose fateful arrows godearest
Like shafts of lightning from the quiv'ring stringhaunt our Syrian Castaly
Lord of th'unerring bow.Lord of the holy spring.

Daphne and Apollo
Youths:
Lord of the cypress grove, that here in baffled love,
The soft Thessalian maid didst still pursue.
Until her snowy foot in the green earth took root,
And in thine arms a verdant laurel grew.

Youths & Maidens
Lord of the cypress grove, that here in baffled love,
The soft Thessalian maid didst still pursue
Until her snowy foot in the green earth took root,
And in thine arms a verdant laurel grew.
And still thy tenderest beams over our falling streams
At shadowy eve delight to hover long.
They to Orontes' tide in liquid music glide
Through banks that blossom their sweet course along,
Through banks that blossom their sweet course along,
Their sweet course along.

Maidens:
And still in Daphne's bower thou wanderest many an hour,
Kissing the turf by her light footsteps trod,
And nymphs at noon-tide deep start from their dreaming sleep,
And in his glory see the bright-haired God.

Youths & Maidens:
Phoebus Apollo hear, great Lycian King, appear!
Come from thy Cynthian steep or Xanthus' shore.
Phoebus Apollo hear!
Here to our Syrian home, invisible god-head come,
Here to our Syrian home, invisible god-head come,
And o'er our land thy choicest influence pour.
And o'er our land,
And o'er our land thy choicest influence pour,
And o'er our land thy choicest influence pour.
Variously:
Phoebus Apollo hear,
Great Lycian King, appear!
And o'er our land,
And o'er our land thy choicest influence pour.

No. 2: Solo (Callias) & Aria (Olybius)

MIDI FILE [4' 26"; 14KB]

Callias:
Break off the hymn!
And now the solemn rites are duly paid,
The hundred steers have bled,
O'er all the Temple the rich incense curls
In clouds of fragrance,
And the golden cups in generous libation have poured forth
The honeyed wine, and all along the shade of sacred Daphne
Hath your pomp been led!
Waking the slumbering echoes from their caves,
To multiply the adoring Io Pæan
To great Apollo!

Olybius:

Olybius
Where is the crown and palm-like grace of all,
The sacred virgin Priestess, Margarita?

Come, Margarita, come,
Come, Margarita, come,
Come in thy zoneless grace,
Take thine appointed place,
And strike thy holy lyre of silver string.
Come, Margarita, come.
Come, Margarita, come.

For this delay of thine,
Thou wilt the fairer shine,
Even as a late long-looked-for flower in spring.
Come, Margarita, come.
Come, Margarita, come.

For when her living lyre out sings,
The shamed birds do fold their wings,
And all upon whose ear it falls,
Stand breathless as the listening walls,
That, as they tower in space above,
Themselves seem touched to light and love.
Come, Margarita, come.
Come, Margarita, come.

Come, Margarita,
Margarita, come,
Margarita, come!

No. 3: Duet (Callias & Olybius)

MIDI FILE [2' 00"; 7KB]

Callias:
Great Olybius, 'tis said that here in Antioch,
The high place and chosen sanctuary of those Galileans,
Who with their godless and incestuous rites
Offend the thousand Deities of Rome:
'Tis said, even here Olybius hath let sleep
The thunders of the law, which should have smitten
With the stern frequency of angry Jove,
When with fierce storms he darkens all the world.

Olybius:
It is most true that I have sought to stay this frenzy,
Not with angry fire and sword,
But with lofty and contemptuous mercy,
That scorned too much to punish. But, Callias,
I am not one that wears a subject's duty loose,
And cast off when e'er a changeful will
Would clothe itself in sole authority.
The edict of the Emperor is to me
As the unrepealed word of fate,
To death it doth devote these Christians,
And to death my voice shall doom them.

Procession

No. 4: Chorus

MIDI FILE [1' 08"; 9KB]

Chorus:
Long live the Christian's scourge,
Long live Olybius!
Go on thy flower-strewn road,
The champion of our God,
By Phoebus' self his chosen chief confessed.
His brightest splendours bask
Upon thy flowing casque,
And gild the waving glories of thy crest.
Variously:
Go on thy flower-strewn road,
Go on thy flower-strewn road,
The champion,
The champion of our God.



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