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A Litany in Time of Plague

for Voice and Two/Three parts Accompaniment


Stefano Paparozzi
text by: Thomas Nashe (1567-1601)

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5 ∑ 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Voice &4 4
A- dieu, fare- well, earth's bliss; this world un-cer-tain is; fond are life's lust-ful joys;

° 5 œœœœœœœœ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ 4 ˙ ˙
etc.

&4 ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Accomp. 1 4
pp
5 ∑ 4
Accomp. 2 &4 4w w w
pp legato sempre
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Accomp. 3
(opt.)

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V. & œ œ œ œ œ bœ bœ œ œ œ œ œ Œ b œ œ œ b œ œ 45 b ˙ 4
4
death proves them all but toys; none from his darts can fly; I am sick I must die.

° ˙ ˙ 5 4
A. 1 & b˙ ˙ b˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ b˙ b˙ ˙ ˙ 4 #˙ #˙ œ œ œ œ œ œnœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4

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A. 3
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4
pp

9 , , , ,
4 #œ nœ œ #œ œ œ #œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ #œ #œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ
V. &4
Rich men, trust not in wealth, gold can-not buy you health; phy-sic him-self must fade. All things to end are made,

° 4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ™ #˙ ™ ˙™ ˙ ™ #˙ ™ ˙™
A. 1 & 4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙™ ˙™ ˙™ ˙™ ˙™ #˙ ™ ˙™ ˙™
6 6 12 12 12 12 12 12 12
4
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A. 2 & 4
w #w w

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13

V. & œ œ œ œ #œ œ Œ nœ œ œ b œ œ 45 ˙ 4
4 œ bœ œ œ œ œ
the plague full swift goes by; I am sick I must die. Beau-ty is but a flow'r

°
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A. 1 ˙™ 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œb œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙

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12 12 12 12 6 6 6
5 Π4
A. 2 & w w 4œ 4w

A. 3
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4 ∑
pp
2

17 , , , ,
V. & œ bœ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ bœ bœ œ bœ œ œ œ
which wrink-les will de- vour; bright-ness falls from the air; queens have died young and fair; dust hath closed He-len's eve.

° b˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ b˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
A. 1 & b˙ ˙ b˙ ˙

A. 2
¢& w w w bw

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21
5 4
V. & Œ b œ œ b œ nœ œ 4 #˙ 4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ œ
I am sick, I must die. Strenght stoops un-to the grave, worms feed on Hec-tor brave;

° 5
3
4
3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3

A. 1 & b˙ b˙ ˙ ˙ 4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œnœ œ œ œ œ œ 4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ œœœ œ œœ œœœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ

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A. 2

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A. 3
-
pp

25 , , ,
V. & œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ bœ œ œ b œ œ 45
swords may no fight with fate, Earth still holds ope(n) her gate. “Come, come!"the bells do cry. I am sick, I must

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3 3 3 3 3
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A. 1 & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œbœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4

5
A. 2 & #w w w w 4

b-œ -œ -œ b-œ -œ 45
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pp

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29
5 4 bœ bœ œ œ œ œ
V. &4 ˙ 4 œ bœ œ bœ œ œ œ bœ œ bœ œ œ
die. Wit with his wan-ton-ness tast-eth death's bit-ter- ness; Hell's ex - e - cu-tio-ner

° 5 b œ3 œ 3 œ œ œ3 4
A. 1 & 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4 œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ bœ bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ bœ bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ

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A. 3
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bœ bœ œ œ œ bœ 5 4
V. & bœ œ bœ œ bœ œ Œ nœ œ #œ nœ œ 4 #˙ 4
hath no ears for to hear what vain art can re- ply. I am sick, I must die.

° 5 3
j j3 4
A. 1 & b œ b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ b œ b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4

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pp

37 , , , ,
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V. &4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

° 4
Haste, there- fore, each de- gree, to wel-come de - sti- ny; Heav'n is our he - ri- tage, Earth but a play-er's stage;
3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3

A. 1 & 4 #œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
4
A. 2
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w w

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V. & œ œ œœ œ œ Œ b œ œ œ b œ œ 45 ˙ 4
4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
mount we un-to the sky. I am sick, I must die.

° U
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3 3 3 3 3
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A. 2

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A. 3
- - - -
pp

The Litany can be sung by any Voice (solo or group) and accompanied by any Instrument (solo or a 2/3/4 etc.) capable of playing their parts. They can sing/play at
their more confortable register, even with octave doubling. The chosen octave must been the same throughout all the piece.

The stem-less notes in Voice part are free in rhythm, the singer(s) should respect just the barlines and the breaths. Expressive interpretation is free.

For the Accompaniment part, the chosen technique should be the same throughout all the piece (e.g. Strings starting pizzicato should always play pizzicato). One
or all the Accompaniment part could be sung (vocalizing or with closed mouth).
Acc. 1 and 2 should be played as much legato as possible (masking bow changes for strings, breathing very quickly – or even with circular breath – with woodwinds
etc.). For Acc. 2, the ability to holding the sound at the same dynamic level for its actual requested length is not required. Acc. 3 is optional.
A polyphonic instrument can play alone all Accompaniment parts.

Adieu, farewell, earth's bliss; Beauty is but a flower Wit with his wantonness
This world uncertain is; Which wrinkles will devour; Tasteth death's bitterness;
Fond are life's lustful joys; Brightness falls from the air; Hell's executioner
Death proves them all but toys; Queens have died young and fair; Hath no ears for to hear
None from his darts can fly; Dust hath closed Helen's eye. What vain art can reply.
I am sick, I must die. I am sick, I must die. I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us! Lord, have mercy on us! Lord, have mercy on us!

Rich men, trust not in wealth, Strength stoops unto the grave, Haste, therefore, each degree,
Gold cannot buy you health; Worms feed on Hector brave; To welcome destiny;
Physic himself must fade. Swords may not fight with fate, Heaven is our heritage,
All things to end are made, Earth still holds open her gate. Earth but a player's stage;
The plague full swift goes by; “Come, come!" the bells do cry. Mount we unto the sky.
I am sick, I must die. I am sick, I must die. I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us! Lord, have mercy on us! Lord, have mercy on us!

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