February 2003 saw Matthew's solo debut at London's Wigmore Hall and he shared a recital with guitarist John Williams at the Royal Society of Medicine. He now gives at least one solo recital per year at either the Wigmore Hall or the South Bank Centre.

Matthew Wadsworth's CD recording of music by Kapsberger and Piccinini (14 Silver Strings) for Deux-Elles records has received international critical acclaim and was Gramophone Editor's Choice and BBC Music Magazine's Pick of the Month. He has recorded for EMI, Avie, Deux-Elles and Linn records.

Matthew continues to be much involved with the development of Braille music technology and is currently collaborating with a company in the USA to facilitate production of Braille lute tablature from electronic format, which will greatly benefit visually impaired musicians the world over.

Carolyn Sampson comes from Bedford, England and read music at the University of Birmingham. A stylish interpreter of the baroque and classical masters, she regularly appears with many of the most respected period instrument groups and conductors: The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, The King's Consort, The Freiburg Baroque Orchestra, The Sixteen, The English Concert, The Gabrieli Consort, Ensemble Baroque de Limoges, Il Giardino Armonico, Collegium Vocale Gent, Philippe Herreweghe, Gustav Leonhardt, Harry Christophers, Trevor Pinnock, Masaaki Suzuki, Emmanuel Haim, Paul McCreesh, Christophe Coin and Giovanni Antonini.

Modern orchestras and choirs with whom she performs include the Orchestre des Champs-Elysees The Royal Concertgebouw, Halle, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic and the RIAS Kammerchor. Carolyn's repertoire includes Brahms, Britten, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Schubert and Stravinsky.

She has recorded Vivaldi, Zelenka, Monteverdi, Handel, Rameau and Lalande for Hyperion, Bach for Harmonia Mundi and Bis, Robert Johnson lute songs for Avie, Monteverdi's L'Orfeo for Virgin Classics and Gluck's Paride ed Elena for DG Archiv,.

Carolyn sang Pamina in The Magic Flute with the English National Opera for whom she takes the title role of Handel's Semele (November 2004). Other opera projects include Asteria in Tamerlano with Le Concert d'Astree and Susanna in Le Nozze di Figaro for Opera de Montpellier.

Song Texts

3. As I walked forth
Beaumont and Fletcher: The Captain c. 1612

As I walked forth one summer's day, To view the meadows green and gay, A pleasant bower I espied, Standing fast by the riverside, And in't a maiden I heard cry, Alas, alas, there's none e'er loved as I.

Then round the meadow did she walk, Catching each flower by the stalk, Such flow'rs as in the meadow grew, The dead-man's thumb, and herb all blue, And as she pull'd them still cried she, Alas, alas, there's none e'er loved like me.

The flowers of the sweetest scents, She bound about with knotty bents, And as she bound them up in bands, She wept, she sigh'd, and wrung her hands: Alas! Alas! Alas! cried she, Alas! Alas! There's none e'er lov'd like me.

When she had filled her apron full Of such green things as she could cull; The green leaves served her for her bed, The flowers were the pillow for her head; Then down she laid, ne'er more did speak, Alas! Alas! With love her heart did break.

4. Where the bee sucks
Shakespeare: The Tempest 1611

Where the bee sucks there suck I, In a cowslip's bell I lie, There I couch when owls do cry, On the bat's back I do fly after summer merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

6. Woods, rocks and mountains
Anon (possibly Johnson)

Woods, rocks, and mountains, and you desert places, Where nought but bitter cold and hunger dwells: Hear a poor maid's last words, kill'd with disgraces. Slide softly while I sing, you silver fountains, And let your hollow waters like sad bells Ring to my woes, while miserable I, Cursing my fortunes, drop, drop, drop a tear and die.

Griefs, woes, and groanings, hopes and all such lies, I give to broken hearts that daily weep: To all poor maids in love my lost desiring. Sleep sweetly while I sing my bitter moaning, And last, my hollow lovers, that ne'er keep Truth, truth, in their hearts, while miserable I, Cursing my fortunes, drop, drop, drop a tear and die.

7. Come hither you that love
Beaumont and Fletcher: The Captain c. 1612

Come hither, you that love, and hear me sing Of joys still growing Green, fresh, and lusty, as the pride of Spring And ever blowing. Come hither youths that blush and dare not know What is desire, And old men worse than you, that cannot blow One spark of fire. And with the pow'r of my enchanting song, Boys shall be able men, and old men young.

Come hither you that hope, and you that cry, Leave off complaining. Youth, strength, and beauty that shall never die Are here remaining. Come hither fools, and blush, you stay so long From being blest, And madmen worse than you, that suffer wrong, Yet seek no rest. And in an hour with my enchanting song, You shall be ever pleased, and young maids long.

8. Tell me, dearest
Beaumont and Fletcher: The Captain c. 1612

Tell me, dearest, what is love? 'Tis a light'ning from above; 'Tis an arrow, 'tis a fire; 'Tis a boy they call desire. 'Tis a grave gapes to have Those poor fools that long to prove.

Tell me more: are women true? Yes, some are, and some as you. Some are willing, some are strange, Since you men first taught to change, And till troth be in both, All shall love to love anew.

Tell me more: can women grieve? Yes, and sicken sore, but live And be wise, too, and delay When you men are wise as they. Then I see faith will be Never till they both believe.

11. Hark! hark! the lark
Shakespeare: Cymbeline 1609

Hark! hark! the lark at heavn's gate sings, And Pheobus 'gins to rise, His steeds to water at those springs On chalic'd flowers that lies. The winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes; With ev'rything that pretty is, My lady sweet arise.

12. Away delights
Beaumont and Fletcher: The Captain c. 1612

Away delights, go seek some other dwelling, For I will die. Farewell false hope; thy tongue is ever telling Lie after lie. For ever let me rest now from thy smart; Alas, for pity stay, and fire their hearts. That have been hard to thee; mine was not so.

Never again deluding love shall know me, For I will die; And all those griefs that think to overflow me, Shall be as I: For ever will I rest, whilst poor maids cry. Alas, for pity stay, and let us die With thee; men cannot mock us in the clay.

13. Oh, let us howl
Webster: The Duchess of Malfi 1613

Oh, let us howl some heavy note, Some deadly, dogged howl, Sounding as from the threatening throat Of beasts and fatal fowl. As ravens, screech owls, bulls, and bears We'll bell and bawl our parts, Till irksome noise hath cloyed our ears And corrosiv'd our hearts:

At last, when as our choir wants breath, Our bodies being blest, We'll sing, like swans, to welcome death, And die in love and rest.

16. How wretched is the state
(Anon)

How wretched is the state we all are in, That sleep secure in unrepented sin; When not the greatest king on earth can say That he shall live to see the break of day; Nor saints in heaven, Nor blessed angels know, Whether the last and dreadful trump shall blow To judgement of the living and the dead, Before these words I speak are uttered.

Oh wake, oh watch, Oh weep, repent and pray; Oh have in mind that last and bitter day.

17. Have you seen the bright lily grow?
Ben Jonson: The Devil is an Ass 1616

Have you seen the bright lily grow, Before rude hands have touch'd it? Have you mark'd the fall of the snow, Before the earth hath smutch'd it? Have you felt the wool of beaver? Or swans' down ever? Or have smelt o' the bud of the brier? Or the nard in the fire? Or have tasted the bag of the bee? Oh, so white, oh, so soft, Oh so sweet is she!

18. Care-charming sleep
Fletcher: Valentinian 1614

Care-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes, Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose. On this afflicted wight, fall like a cloud In gentle show'rs; give nothing to it loud Or painful to his slumber. Easy sweet And as a purling stream, thou son of night, Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver rain. Into thyself gently, oh gently slide And kiss him into slumbers like a bride.

22. With endless tears
Robert Johnson

With endless tears that never cease, I saw a heart lie bleeding, Whose grief did more and more increase, Her pains ne'er so exceeding. When dying sighs could not prevail, She then would weep amain: When flowing tears began to fail, she then would sigh again.

Her sighs like raging wind did blow, Some grievous storms foretelling, And tides of tears did overflow her cheeks, The rose excelling. Confounding thoughts so filled her breast, She could no more contain, But cries aloud: Hath love no rest, no joys, but endless pain.

23. Come heavy sleep
Anon

Come, heavy sleep, thou image of true death, And close up those my weary weeping eyes, Whose spring of tears do stop my vital breath, And tears my heart with sorrow's sigh-swoll'n cries. Come and possess my tired thought-worn soul, That living, living dies, till thou on me be stol'n.

Wadsworth and Sampson: lute songs from the Renaissance