Ergo ne conticuit (Johannes Lupi)

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  • (Posted 2017-03-20)   CPDL #43682:   
Editor: Mick Swithinbank (submitted 2017-03-20).   Score information: A4, 20 pages, 133 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: At original pitch and with original note values. (The original clefs were C1 (replaced by C2 in one section), C3, C4 and F4.)

General Information

Title: Ergone conticuit
Composer: Johannes Lupi
Lyricist: Erasmuscreate page

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: STTB
Genre: SacredMotet

Language: Latin
Instruments: A cappella

First Published: 1547 in Sacrarum cantionum, liber 3, no. 5.

Description: A lament on the death of Ockeghem, which, curiously, Susato published more than 50 years after Ockeghem's death. A belated parallel work to Josquin's Nymphes des bois, therefore. However, it does not incorporate any funereal cantus firmus. Its attribution to Lupi has been disputed, one suggestion being that it was composed by Lupus Hellinck] (1493/4-1541).

External websites:

Original text and translations

Latin.png Latin text

(Text by Erasmus of Rotterdam)

In Ioannem Okegi. Musicorum principem, Naenia.
Ergo ne conticuit
Vox illa quondam nobilis,
Aurea vox Okegi ?
Sic musicae extinctum decus ?
Dic age, dic fidibus tristes, Appollo, naenias.
Tu quoque, Calliope
pullata cum sororibus,
funde pias lachrymas,
lugete, quotquot
musicae dulce rapit studium
virumque ferte laudibus.
Artis Appollineae sacer
ille foenix occidit.

Quid facis, invida mors?
Obmutuit vox aurea Okegi
per sacra tecta sonans.
Demulsit aures caelitum
terrigenumque simul
penitusque movit pectora.
Quid facis, invida mors?
Sat erat tibi promiscue
tollere res hominum;
Divina res est musica;
numina cur violas?

English.png English translation

by Mick Swithinbank and Jamie Reid Baxter

Threnody on the death of Johannes Ockeghem, prince of musicians.
Has that once noble voice,
then, fallen silent?
The golden voice of Ockeghem?
Is the glory of music now dead?
Apollo, speak, react, tell forth on the lyre sad funeral songs.
You likewise, Calliope,
dressed in mourning weeds with your sisters,
shed your devout tears.
Mourn, all of you whom
your zeal for sweet music transports,
and bear the hero [on your shoulders] with your praises:
the priest of Apollo's art,
that great phoenix, is dead.

What have you done, O hateful death?
The golden voice of Ockeghem is mute,
which used to echo through the sacred vaults.
It soothed the ears and the inward breast
of those in heaven and on earth alike.
What have you done, O hateful death?
It was already enough that you indiscriminately carry off
things that are the concern of mortal men;
[but] music is a thing divine:
why do you violate the gods?