How dark, how dark and dreadful is this place

Opera details:

Opera title:

The Rake's Progress

Composer:

Igor Stravinsky

Language:

English

Synopsis:

The Rake's Progress Synopsis

Libretto:

The Rake's Progress Libretto

Translation(s):

Not entered yet.

Duet details:

Type:

duet

Role(s):

Tom Rakewell / Nick Shadow

Voice(s):

Tenor / Baritone or Bass

Act:

3.11

Previous scene: Who cares a fig
Next scene: Very well, then, my dear and good Tom

The Rake's Progress, Act III: How Dark, How Dark and Dreadful is this Place

Singer(s): Eugene Conley Mack Harrell Norman Scott Paul Franke

Provided to YouTube by NAXOS of America

The Rake's Progress, Act III: How Dark, How Dark and Dreadful is this Place · Eugene Conley

Stravinsky: The Rake's Progress

℗ 2017 Datum

Released on: 2017-08-04

Artist: Blanche Thebom
Artist: Eugene Conley
Conductor: Fritz Reiner
Artist: Hilde Gueden
Artist: Lawrence Davidson
Artist: Mack Harrell
Artist: Martha Lipton
Choir: Metropolitan Opera Chorus
Orchestra: Metropolitan Opera Orchestra
Artist: Norman Scott
Artist: Paul Franke
Composer: Igor Stravinsky

Auto-generated by YouTube.

Libretto/Lyrics/Text/Testo:

Duet

TOM
How dark, and dreadful is this place!.
Why have you led me here?
There's something, Shadow, in your face
that fills my soul with fear.

NICK
A year and a day, have passed away
since first to you I came.
All things you bid, I duly did
and now my wages claim.

TOM
Shadow!, Good Shadow!
Be patient.
I am beggared, as you know.
But promise when I am rich again
to pay you, to pay you all I owe.

NICK
'Tis not your money but your soul
which I this night require.
Look in my eyes and recognise
whom, fool, you chose to hire.

(He points to grave)

Behold your waiting grave!
Behold!

(He takes out a steel, a gun...)

Steel, halter,
poison, gun.
Make no excuse,
your exit choose.
Tom Rakewell's race is run.

TOM
Oh let the wild hills cover me
or the abounding wave.

NICK
The sins you did may not be hid.
Think not your soul to save.

TOM
Oh why did an uncle I never knew
select me for his heir?

NICK
It pleases well the damned in hell
to bring another there.
Midnight is come.
By rope or gun
or medicine or knife,
on the stroke of twelve
you shall slay yourself,
for forfeit is your life.

(It's hearing the stroke clock)

Count one, count two,
count three, count four,
count five,

TOM
Have mercy!

NICK
count six, count seven,

TOM
Have mercy on me, heaven!

NICK
count eight,

TOM
Too late!

NICK
No. Wait.

(He makes a face and the clock stops)

English Libretto or Translation:

Not entered yet.

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