Ma giunge Unulfo

English Libretto or Translation:

Bertarido
Vain pomp of death!
O flatt`ring lamentation, lying grief, thus to
preserve my image and my name
only to swell the lofty conquerors pride!
Our vain inscriptions here proclaim me dead,
alas my grief tell me, too sure, I am not,
no, I am worse than dead.
Reads the inscription on his tomb
“Bertarido was King, but he, subdued by Grimaldo, fled -
`mongst the Hunns he died.
Rest to his soul, and to his ashes peace.”
Peace to my ashes! O je tyrant stars!
Why thus, it seems then, ever while I live,
till I, indeed, am ashes, till the last breath
wings from these lips must I wage weary war
with endless hardships, and perpetual wrongs.
Where art thou, o my lovely treasure,
come, thy husband to condole,
bring some comfort, bring some pleasure,
balm to ease a wearied soul.
dead oppressed with pains I languish,
there’s no balm to cure the anguish
till those eyes I see again.
But when I see those radiant eyes,
I’ll dry my own, and cease my cries
and own the blessing cures the pain.
But bless ye gracious heavens, Unulfo comes.
Let me, thou good, thou truly loyal man
thus with these circling arms...
(Going to embrace him)

Unulfo
My ever honoured Lord,
if the hard turns of ill revolted fate
ravished a sceptre from your Royal hands,
from me they have not taken, nor shall take
a loyal subjects reverence to his liege.
O hold and only grant this royal boon
(Unulfus avoids the Honour of the embrace)
that with an humble kiss on this dear hand
I may imprint the pledges of my duty.
On this dear Hand breathe forth my old tried
faith, on this dear hand declare my latest service.

Bertarido
While, in distress, I find a friend so faithful,
I bless the very woes that prove his faith.
But say, o tell me quick, how does my spouse,
my Rodelinda do – ho fares it with my son?

Unulfo
What fate’s unworthy lot could never do,
that, the false news of your reported death
severely has effected – o that news caused
majestick woe – becoming floods of tears
poured from her radiant eyes.

Bertarido
Heavens! And did you not discover, lovely mourner,
did you not tell her, that I still was living?

Unulfo
I did not, for I judged,
that sad solemnity of sincere sorrow
might give a face of credit to the rumour,
and, much, it still behoves
you, to conceal it.

Bertarido
O that soft loving heart! What Pangs it feels,
what mighty pangs – is there no end of
wonders!

Why, look Unulfo, there she is, `tis she
it is my wife – and `tis my son – it is –
o let me fly, my friend, to their embraces.

Unulfo
For heavens sake, my Lord, you would not,
surely, let ill timed passion prove your
fortunes ruin.

Bertarido
Yes, let me, good Unulfo,
after so tedious and so long an exile,
fold to this panting bosom my loved wife
and print a parents kiss on my sons lips.

Unulfo
Say, would you then, to have them one short
moment, lose them for ever after?

Bertarido
What a perplexed variety of torment!

Bertarido
I pray, my Liege, retire!

Bertarido
Wouldst have me flay or die,
for when I’m gone, I’m dead.

Unulfo
No, du but hide, conceal yourself a while,
and try to suffer yet a little longer
(they retire.)