Carlo Tagliabue (Mariano Comense, January 13, 1898 Monza, April 5, 1978) was an incredible Italian baritone. In his book Voci Parallele Giacomo Lauri-Volpi wrote, "[Tagliabue] is the only survivor of a school that knows that in Rigoletto, in Ballo in Maschera, Trovatore, Traviata a melodramatic piece should be sung, measured and breathed musically in line with the mastery of great art."
Watch videos with other singers performing Morir tremenda cosa!:
Il chirurgo ed i soldati trasportano il ferito nella stanza da letto.
SCENA V
CARLO Morir! Tremenda cosa! Sì intrepido, sì prode, ei pur morrà! Uom singolar costui! Tremò di Calatrava al nome. A lui palese n' è forse il disonor? Cielo! Qual lampo! S'ei fosse il seduttore? Desso in mia mano, e vive! Se m'ingannassi? Questa chiave il dica. Apre convulso la valigia, e ne trae un plico suggellato Ecco i fogli! Che tento! S'arresta E la fé che giurai? E questa vita che debbo al suo valor? Anch'io lo salvo! S'ei fosse quell' Indo maledetto che macchiò il sangue mio? . . . Il suggello si franga. Niun qui mi vede. No? Ben mi vegg'io! Getta il plico Urna fatale del mio destino, Va, t'allontana, mi tenti invano; L'onor a tergere qui venni, e insano D'un onta nuova nol macchierò. Un giuro è sacro per l'uom d'onore; Que' fogli serbino il lor mistero. Disperso vada il mal pensiero Che all'atto indegno mi concitò. E s'altra prova rinvenir potessi? Vediam. Torna a frugare nella valigia Qui v'ha un ritratto . . . Suggel non v'é … nulla ei ne disse … Nulla promisi … s'apra dunque … Ciel! Leonora! Don Alvaro è il ferito! Ora egli viva, e di mia man poi muoia!
English Libretto or Translation:
The surgeon and orderlies carry the wounded man into the bedroom.
Scena and Aria
CARLOS To die! A terrible thing - so fearless, so valiant, yet he must die! A strange man, this! He shuddered at the name of Calatrava! Has he perhaps heard of our dishonour? Heavens! A sudden thought! What if he were the seducer? And in my hands - alive! But if I am wrong? This key will tell me! In agitation he opens the case and takes out a sealed envelope. Here are the papers! about to open it What am I doing? stops And the oath I swore? And my life that I owe to his bravery? But I saved him, too! And what if he were the cursed Indian , who soiled my blood? determinedly I will break the seal, goes to do so no one can see me here. stops No? But I can see myself. He throws down the envelope and backs away in horror.
Away with you, fatal urn of my destiny; you tempt me in vain. I came here to redeem my honour, and in madness will not stain it with this new shame. An oath is sacred to a man of honour; these papers shall keep their secret. Perish the evil thought that spurred me to the unworthy deed.
But if I could find some other proof? Let's see. He again rummages in the case, and finds a small locket. Here is a portrait. He examines it. It has no seal. He said nothing about this. I promised nothing. Let me open it then. He does so. Heavens! Leonora! excitedly The wounded man is Don Alvaro! Now let him live, and then die by my hand!