FIDELIO

One bright summer day, during the seventeenth century, in the courtyard of a certain prison castle in Spain, the jailer's daughter, a pretty girl, named Marcellina, stood ironing linen in the doorway of her father's lodge; and though not in reality pressed for time, it pleased her to make a great pretence of being very busy, in order to avoid the attentions of Jacquino, the porter of the prison, who was constantly passing to and fro, and engaging in conversation with her.

It was quite in vain, however, that the amorous porter tried to get the maiden interested in his pretty speeches, for pert Miss Marcellina would have none of him to-day, and was even cruel enough to hint that her thoughts were with some more favoured suitor elsewhere; and Jacquino felt himself very badly used. For until lately, he alone had been the favoured swain of this rustic coquette; but since the recent advent of a new assistant, a handsome youth rejoicing in the name of Fidelio, the jailer's pretty daughter had looked coldly upon her old sweetheart, and bestowed all her most bewitching smiles upon the newcomer.
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BEETHOVEN

It was of Fidelio she was thinking now, knowing that the youth would shortly be returning from an errand upon which he had been sent some hours before; and so, when a loud knock was presently heard at the outer gate, she was filled with joyful anticipation, and eagerly bade Jacquino unfasten the bolts at once, which the porter did very reluctantly and with much grumbling at such untimely interruption to his own suit. He was somewhat grimly pleased, therefore, when, on opening the gate, he admitted Rocco, the jailer, instead of the new assistant; but even this small satisfaction was short-lived, for almost immediately afterwards, his rival, Fidelio, appeared, and so laden with packages and baskets, that Marcellina ran to relieve him of them at once, commiserating tenderly with him on being thus heavily laden on so hot a day.

Now, in reality, though none suspected it, Fidelio was not the person he represented himself to be, but instead a lady of high degree, who had thus taken on the disguise of a youth from a very noble motive. Within this prison castle there were a number of political prisoners, who, though innocent, were the victims of despotic power, and pined in captivity, because some private enemy refused to speak the word that would have set them at liberty.

Amongst these prisoners was a certain Don Florestan, a nobleman, who, having had the misfortune to offend Don Pizarro, the governor of the fortress, had been by him accused of some slight political misdemeanour, and thrust into a deep dungeon of the prison. Having thus got his hated enemy into his power, the crafty Governor gave out clearly afterwards that he had died, so that he should not be released when his short time of imprisonment was over; and thus, by keeping him closely chained in the deepest dungeon, and slowly starving him, he hoped that the wretched man would really die, and his own private vengeance be thus satisfied without resort to actual violence.

However, his plans were to be frustrated from quite an unexpected source; for Don Florestan had a beautiful young wife, the Lady Leonora, who loved her husband so devotedly that, refusing to believe the report of his death, she determined to learn the truth at all costs, and, if he still lived, to rescue him from the hands of his unscrupulous enemy, Pizarro, who she knew would not hesitate to murder him so soon as he could do so without fear of discovery.

Being of a brave and heroic disposition, Leonora was not afraid to risk her life for the sake of the man she loved; and so, having donned masculine attire, she boldly made her way to the fortress where her husband pined in captivity, and, giving her name as Fidelio, humbly requested the jailer to engage her as his assistant, hoping that in this way she would at last discover how Don Florestan was faring, and perhaps be able to plan some means of escape for him. Rocco, the jailer, being greatly struck with the pleasant looks and manners of the supposed youth, very willingly took her into his service; and, since the new assistant was neat-handed, useful and obliging, he quickly became a favourite with all within the castle, to the great chagrin of Jacquino, who, being clumsy and somewhat dull, now found himself quite out of favour.

Poor Jacquino felt more aggrieved still when saucy Mistress Marcellina also showed preference for the newcomer whose handsome face and air of melancholy attracted her fancy and caused her to treat her old sweetheart with disdain; and when discovering in addition that his master, Rocco, favoured his daughter's new choice, he felt justly jealous of the unknown stranger who had so coolly supplanted him.

So to-day, as Marcellina and her father ran to relieve the supposed Fidelio of his burdens, Jacquino kept sulkily in the background; and presently he departed to perform some duties within the castle, determined to press his own suit at some more favourable time.

Rocco now began to praise his new assistant for the clever manner in which he had carried out his instructions that day; and to show his approval of this and of his conduct in general, he announced that he was quite willing to welcome such a likely youth as a son-in-law, since Marcellina seemed to regard him also with evident favour, and he even hinted at a very early date for the wedding-day.

Marcellina was delighted to hear this, and to know that her father favoured her fancy for her dear Fidelio; but Leonora was greatly embarrassed, not knowing how she could get safely out of this new difficulty, for though she had tried to ingratiate herself with the jailer's daughter for her own purposes, she did not wish to pain the maiden in any way.

However, she succeeded in hiding her embarrassment for the time being, and presently managed to direct the conversation into a safer channel, by begging Rocco to allow her to accompany him in his daily visits to the prisoners in the lower dungeons, and to assist him with this work, which the jailer had hitherto performed alone; for, in this way, she knew she would be able to discover if her beloved husband still lived, since she had not seen him amongst the more favoured prisoners, whom she was permitted to wait upon.

At first Rocco refused this plea, declaring that Fidelio was too young to witness such dreadful sights as these wretched chained captives, and to emphasize his refusal, described the miserable state of one of these, who was nearly at the point of death through close confinement and starvation; but when Leonora, on hearing this, redoubled her entreaties, feeling sure from the description that this unhappy prisoner must be her own dear husband, he at length consented, feeling better pleased than ever with the youth's evident desire to assist him even in such disagreeable duties as visiting the dungeon captives.

At this moment Don Pizarro, the cruel Governor of the prison, entered the courtyard with some of the guard; and, after giving orders to the captain, he proceeded to read the despatches brought from the town by Fidelio, and now handed to him by Rocco.

Amongst these despatches, Pizarro found a missive warning him that the Prime Minister intended to pay a surprise visit to the prison that evening, having been informed that certain victims of despotic power were still unjustly held captives there; and, suddenly filled with fear at the thought of how he should account for the presence of Don Florestan, so long believed to be dead, he began to form a plan to avoid this new danger to himself, and soon decided to kill his hated enemy within the next few hours. However, he did not mean to do this dreadful deed himself, if possible; and so, when the guard had presently gone on duty, he detained Rocco, intending to make him his instrument of vengeance.

Carelessly handing the jailer a purse of gold, he hinted darkly that he desired the death of this wretched prisoner in the lowest dungeon; but Rocco, recoiling from the thought of such cold-blooded murder, refused to do the deed, although, being afraid of offending his unscrupulous superior, he tremblingly agreed to dig the victim's grave, if Pizarro himself would strike the fatal blow. With this the Governor was fain to be content; and the two departed separate ways, having first laid their plans and arranged that the grave should be dug beneath an old ruined cistern at the side of the dungeon.

Now it happened that Leonora, having suspected from the dark looks of Pizarro that he intended ill to someone, had crept back to the courtyard, where she had remained hidden in such a position that she could overhear the conversation between the Governor and Rocco; and filled with horror at the thought of the violent death now destined for the unhappy prisoner, whom she felt sure was her own beloved husband, she determined to rescue him that evening if possible, and hurried after Rocco, in order to be with him wherever he should go, and so learn all his plans.

Later on, she returned with the jailer to the courtyard, where she discovered Marcellina and Jacquino engaged in a lively dispute; and, finding that the squabble was about herself as the supposed Fidelio, whom Jacquino regarded as a rival and Marcellina desired as a new sweetheart, she hastily changed this embarrassing subject by entreating Rocco to allow the more privileged prisoners to walk for a short time in the courtyard to enjoy a breath of fresh air, a request he had several times promised to grant when a suitable opportunity should occur. As Marcellina also added her entreaties to this kindly request, hoping to please her dear Fidelio by so doing, Rocco agreed, promising to keep Pizarro engaged for a short time on business at the other end of the fortress; and so, when he had departed, Jacquino and Leonora unlocked the cells, and invited the wretched inmates to walk outside for a while.

Full of gratitude for this unexpected pleasure, the prisoners poured forth into the courtyard, walking about with slow painful steps, but uttering cries of delight at the sight of the brilliant sunshine, and inhaling the fresh summer air with deep thankfulness.

Presently, Rocco returned, and informed the new assistant that Pizarro had consented to his helping him in the duties of attending upon the dungeon captives, and that he should begin that day by helping to dig the grave for the victim who was to die so soon as it was ready; and Leonora was filled with conflicting emotions, joyful at the thought of meeting her beloved one again, should the captive indeed prove to be her husband, but terrified by the prospect of her dreadful task.

Whilst they were still talking together, Pizarro unexpectedly appeared on the scene; and, enraged at the sight of the captives walking in the courtyard, he poured forth angry abuse upon Rocco for daring to permit such a thing. The jailer, however, stopped this outburst by reminding Pizarro of the dark deed he was presently to assist him with; and, anxious to keep on good terms with one who knew his wicked plans, the Governor ceased to bluster, but gave orders for the prisoners to be once more locked up.

When the wretched captives had returned reluctantly to their cells, uttering deep sighs of regret as they quitted the bright sunshine for the gloomy darkness of the prison, Rocco called the supposed Fidelio to one side; and, laden with spades and pickaxes, they made their way to the deepest dungeon to commence their gruesome task.

Little dreaming that the one person in all the world he most longed to see, his beloved wife, was even now approaching, Don Florestan lay suffering upon the floor of his horrible cell, with despair in his heart; for he had now been so long without food, and was so terribly exhausted, that he knew death could not be far off. All hope of escape had long since deserted him, and he had quite resigned himself to his fate, looking forward to death as the end of his sufferings; but even now the image of his beautiful Leonora shone brightly in his heart, and every now and again he would breathe her name tenderly, and stretch forth his arms with a loving gesture, as though about to embrace her visionary form, or call a passionate greeting to her, thinking in his wandering delirium that she indeed stood before him.

Just as he sank back exhausted after one of these flights of feverish fancy, Rocco the jailer entered the dungeon, followed by the trembling Leonora, who shivered as she felt the chill, damp air of the subterranean cell, and glanced apprehensively at the huddled form on the ground, fearing, yet hoping, that it would prove to be her husband.

Rocco at once proceeded to the ruined cistern situated at one side of the dungeon, and, taking his spade and pickaxe, began to dig the grave, calling to his assistant to do likewise, speaking in gruff but not unkindly tones, thinking that the youth's evident reluctance to commence the horrid task was due to the softness natural to his tender years, rather than to any deeper feeling.

At length, however, Leonora, in order to keep up her disguise, took her spade and began to assist in the work; but every now and again, she turned her eyes upon the crouching form of the poor prisoner, who appeared to be sleeping.

Presently, however, Don Florestan raised his head, and addressed the jailer; and Leonora, seeing now that he was indeed her own beloved husband, was so overcome that she sank back in a swoon. Rocco, not noticing the agitation of his assistant, approached the prisoner, who demanded, as he had already done many times before, the name of the tyrant whose cruelty thus doomed him to a living death. Rocco, knowing that the poor man was to die within the next hour, felt that there could now be no harm in granting this request; so he told Florestan that his enemy was Don Pizarro, the Governor of the prison.

The name of Pizarro recalled Leonora's wandering senses; and still keeping her face hidden from Florestan, she tried to persuade Rocco to permit her to give the captive some bread she had brought with her for this purpose. Though the jailer at first refused, his own pity for the wretched prisoner at length got the better of him, and he gave his consent, even making him drink a little wine from a small flagon he had himself brought.

No sooner had Florestan eagerly partaken of the welcome food, which quickly brought back some little strength to his weary frame, than the dreaded Pizarro entered the dungeon, his first words being to bid Rocco send his youthful assistant away. Leonora, however, though she pretended to obey, only retired into the shadows of the dungeon; and then Pizarro, flinging open his cloak, and drawing his dagger, strode towards the prisoner, and in cruel, triumphant tones bade him prepare to die, hoping to see him fall on his knees and beg for mercy.

But Florestan, who had now risen to his feet, bravely drew himself up to his full height with quiet dignity; and his look of calm contempt so exasperated the wicked Pizarro, that he sprang forward immediately, intending to stab him to the heart. Ere he could strike, however, Leonora flung herself upon him, and bade him desist; and as Pizarro, taken by surprise, drew back, she now boldly declared herself to be the wife of his intended victim.

Florestan, seeing the face of the supposed youth for the first time, was amazed to recognise his beloved Leonora; and full of joy, even in this awful moment of danger, the long separated husband and wife embraced tenderly.

Pizarro, enraged at this untimely interruption of his evil plans, and knowing that he had little time to lose, since his superior officer would arrive very shortly, sprang forward again, intending to stab them both; but Leonora, in a flash, drew forth a loaded pistol she had concealed in her garments, and, covering him with it, declared she would fire if he moved a step further.

Chagrined, and completely nonplussed at this sudden turning of the tables upon him, Pizarro stood helpless, glaring furiously upon the brave Leonora; and as they stood thus, the sound of a trumpet was heard, and Jacquino, accompanied by several officers of the castle, appeared in the doorway, announcing that Don Fernando, the Minister, had just arrived, and demanded an immediate interview with the Governor of the prison.

Pizarro, baulked of his prey, and feeling that disaster was about to fall on him, yet not daring to disobey the command of his superior, turned angrily on his heel, and left the cell.

When their enemy had departed, Florestan and Leonora again fell into each other's arms, and rejoiced together, full of gladness at meeting once more, and hopeful that their troubles would now shortly come to an end; and then as soon as the exhausted Count had sufficiently recovered, Rocco escorted them both to the large court of the castle, where the Minister, Don Fernando, surrounded by soldiers and officers, was receiving the thanks of the grateful captives, whom he had just ordered to be set free, knowing that they had unjustly been kept in bonds.

The jailer, eager to bring his cruel master into disgrace, led Florestan and Leonora forward at once, and appealed to the Minister for justice; and Don Fernando, astonished at thus beholding the young Count, whom all had believed to be dead, received him with great kindness, and gave him a hearty welcome. Then, when he was told the whole story of Pizarro's infamous plot, and how it was frustrated by the intended victim's brave wife, he declared that Florestan was free from that moment, and that Leonora herself should have the joy of removing the chains that had been put so unjustly upon him.

When this pleasant task had been performed by the now happy Leonora, the whole assemblage were free to rejoice together, for all were glad at the downfall of the tyrant Pizarro. The released captives were glad because they were at liberty once more; Jacquino was glad because the dangerous Fidelio could no longer be a rival to his claim upon the pretty Marcellina, who was even now ready to smile on him again; and Florestan and his faithful Leonora were the most joyful of all, since they were restored to each other and a life of perfect peace and happiness.