Sweet Kate of late ran away (Robert Jones)

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• (Posted 2017-03-10)  CPDL #43481:       

Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2017-03-10).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 44 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: English modernised. SA version.

• CPDL #18371:       

Editor: Andreas Stenberg (submitted 2008-12-01).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 154 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: Parts in score (bassus as in original without textunderlay) with lute in tabulature

• CPDL #12721:   

Editor: Andreas Stenberg (submitted 2006-09-29).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 221 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: The lute part in modern staff notation. Text underlay in bass part is editorial.

• CPDL #09234:       

Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2005-08-30).   Score information: Letter, 2 pages, 40 kB   Copyright: Personal

Edition notes:

• CPDL #03182:  PDF and MIDI files

Editor: Eva Toller (submitted 2002-01-25).   Score information: 19.7 x 28.4 cm, 7 pages, 114 kB   Copyright: Personal

Arranger: Eva Toller

Edition notes: Arranged for SSAATTBB. midi files available for each part

General Information

Title: Sweete Kate
Composer: Robert Jones

Number of voices: 3vv   Voicings: SAB, SA or SSAATTBB

Genre: Secular, Madrigal

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella or lute

{{Published}} is obsolete (code commented out), replaced with {{Pub}} for works and {{PubDatePlace}} for publications.

Description:

External websites:

• performance of this work (2 altos and harpsichord) by the dwsChorale

Original text and translations

English text

Sweet Kate of late Ran away and left me plaining "Abide!" I cried, "Or I die with thy disdaining." "Tehehe" quoth she, "Gladly would I see Any man to die with loving. Never any yet Died of such a fit; Neither have I fear of proving."

Unkind! I find thy delight is in tormenting: "Abide" I cried, "Or I die with thy consenting." "Tehehe" quoth she, "Make no fool of me! Men I know have oaths of pleasure; But their hopes attain'd, they bewray they feign'd, And their hopes are kept at leisure."

Her words, Like swords, Cut my sorry heart to sunder Her flouts With doubts Kept my heart's affections under. "Tehehe" quoth she, "What a fool is he Stands in awe of once denying" Cause I had enough To become more rough; So I did. O happy trying!

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