Milton’s companion poems expositing Mirth and Melancholy were adapted by James Harris and Charles Jennens into a libretto that presents a dispute between seemingly implacable opposites until ‘Il Moderato’ (invented by Jennens) persuades the polarised combatants into an enlightened reconciliation. Handel did not compose an overture and instead used two of his brand-new Op 6 Concerti grossi in advance of their publication (speculations vary about which ones) and also an organ concerto – most likely Op 7 No 1 in B flat major.

William Christie does not include any concertos and launches straight into Mirth and Melancholy’s repudiations of each other’s musical moods. Like many others before it, this performance misconceives the tenor’s ‘Hence, loathed melancholy’ as actual melancholy (it is L’Allegro’s sarcastic complaint against it), and Penseroso’s rejection of Mirth in ‘Hence vain deluding joys’ mistakenly embraces jolly brightness – to which Christie adds oboes to Handel’s unison violins (counterproductive tinkering with orchestration crops up elsewhere). The choir are not always well balanced, although their laughter (‘Haste thee, nymph’) is disarmingly convivial and the ‘busy hum of men’ (‘Populous cities’) is aptly excitable. They do not quite capture Milton’s evocation of ‘calm peace and quiet’ or the whispering that lulls exhausted merrymakers to sleep. On the other hand, fulsome devotion in tandem with solo organ flourishes in ‘There let the pealing organ blow’ and its ensuing fugue have sinewy grandeur.

Rachel Redmond’s dulcet shaping of lines and eloquent communication of poetry ensure that Penseroso’s set pieces are beguiling. The dialogue with Serge Saitta’s imaginative flute in ‘Sweet bird’ has graceful agility (Christie abridges the dal segno repeat), and the soprano’s partnership with David Simpson’s obbligato cello has vibrant agility albeit not much pensiveness (‘But, oh, sad virgin’). James Way declaims L’Allegro’s fondness for sociable feasts, revels and attending Jonson’s and Shakespeare’s comedies with a knowing wink. Leo Jemison of Trinity Boys Choir sparkles gleefully in ‘Or let the merry bells ring round’ (Béatrice Martin’s rippling carillon has a surprisingly mellow timbre). The hunting song ‘Mirth, admit me of thy crew’ is roared gutsily by Sreten Manojlovic´; Christie’s rapid tempo causes the strings to evoke galloping horses (Glen Borling’s horn brays boldly but his cadenza outstays its welcome). The duet ‘As steals the morn’ has flowing momentum while allowing plenty of scope for expression from Redmond (with oboes) and Way (with bassoons); the booklet libretto misses the vital clarification that the duet is sung by Penseroso and L’Allegro joined together (not by ‘Moderato’).

A brief note by musical assistant Emmanuel Resche-Caserta offers an insider account of Les Arts Florissants’ endeavour to paint Handel’s settings of Milton’s words. The concertmaster quotes William Hayes’s essay (1753) comparing Handel’s ‘picturesque arrangement of musical sounds’ to Claude Lorrain and Poussin, and offers further allusions to Hogarth’s crowded street scenes, Rubens’s ceiling of the Banqueting House in Whitehall and Constable’s pastoral landscapes. Other interpreters, notably Neumann and McCreesh, bring to life the juxtaposed quarrelling moods and their eventual resolution even more adroitly. Nevertheless, Christie serves some marvellous confections.