The opera Anna Bolena is not a bad version of the English history; aside from the mad scene, Felice Romani’s libretto is simple and the point. Anna Bolena, Paolo Fabbri,ed. includes links to various online libretto sites. Opera Rara have started to include librettos and English. Listing is confusing. Although the description states “Italian Language” in the specific info further down the page it shows the language as English. I assusmed .

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Anna Bolena

The guards present themselves. Les Martyrs Flora Willson, ed. Anna goes back into her rooms. Anna parte colle damigelle. Si presenta in abito negletto,col capo scoperto si avanza lentamente, assorta in profondi pensieri. Let this oppressed heart recover itself for a bit.

Heaven prevent the weak and inexperienced heart from letting itself be either englsh or overcome by hope or by fear; let it never allow bolenna to forget that the accuser is the King.

Donizetti Society Scores and Librettos Page

They also do a blog http: L’estremo suo delirio prolunga, o ciel pietoso; fa che la sua bell’anima di te si desti in sen. I dare not raise my eyes to her, nor can I make bold to speak. Giovanna Seymour Jane SeymourAnna’s lady-in-waiting. Quickly, give me my white cloak; decorate my hair with my crown of roses… Don’t let Percy know of it… The King demands it. They also have a list of who owns what editions at http: Io che da cieca ambizion sospinto, Anna sedussi ad aspirare al soglio.


Non la man d’Enrico. The King awaits me…the altar is lit up and bedecked with flowers. It learnt to be silent when on the English throne a Queen had to surrender her place to you. Either your triumph or your ultimate disaster prepares itself: E fia pur vero che di me pensier vi prese! Preserve yourself so that you can remember the dreadful fate of us both, and then let the knowledge console you that Percy, after the last innocent embrace of tender friendship thinking of her, of her…at least died, with her name on his lips and moreover, in his heart.

There, I forget the streams of anguish, give me back one day of my early years, just one day of our love. More than your King, I am your lover, I am your lover who had your oaths, and who soon, before the altar will have others more sacred.

Seymour will have no rival, as the sun has no rival. Gloomy, O Sire, by nature, destined to an obscure life… I would ill know how…. Explain yourself…repressed fury most terrible anan displayed in your face.

I prostrate myself at your feet.

We must see each other in plain daylight Heaven and Englissh must know that I love you. Thus is the dawn still beautiful when girded with clouds, the melancholy moon is lovely in its pallor. It is vain to wait in hope any more that the King will come now. What do I hear?


I corni danno il segnale della caccia. Ultimo addio abbia il mio re.

Ah, del tuo cuor magnanimo qual prova a me tu dai! Rochefort trae seco Percy da un’altraparte. They convey a low sound like the groan cut short of a heart that dies…it is my broken heart which sighs its last prayer to Heaven. Io ti veggo infelice, e l’ira ha fine; la fronte mia solcata vedi dal duolo: He will require so much from my libregto heart. Every cruel tempest calms itself near you and from you comes my light. Percy and Rochefort from different directions.

Vivi engish te ne scongiuro, tu men tristo e men dolente; cerca un suolo, in cui securo llibretto asilo un innocente; cerca un lido in cui vietato non ti sia per noi pregar. My presence would be inappropriate.