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Subject Area: Music
Topic: Opera and Liberty

SCENE I.— - Ludwig van Beethoven, Beethoven’ s Opera Fidelio. German Text, with an English Translation [1805]

Edition used:

Beethoven’ s Opera Fidelio. German Text, with an English Translation (Boston: Oliver Ditson, 1864).

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.


SCENE I.—

A dark subterranean Dungeon. To the left a cistern or reservoir, covered with stones and rubbish. In the background, several openings in the wall, guarded with gratings, through which can be seen the steps of a staircase, leading from above. To the right, the doo into the Prison. A lamp hanging.

[Florestan,alone. He sits on a stone: round his body is a long chain, the end of which is fastened to the wall.

Recitativ.

  • Gott! welch ein Dunkel hier!
  • O grauenvolle Stille!
  • Oed ist es um mich her,
  • Nichts lebet ausser mir.
  • O schwere Prüfung! doch gerecht ist Gottes Wille,
  • Ich murre nicht, das Maass der Leiden steht bei dir.

Recitative.

  • Alas! what darkness dense!
  • What horrid stillness!
  • Here in this dark tomb, is nothing known
  • But my deep anguish! Oh, most cruel torture!
  • Oh, Heavenly Providence, how much longer
  • Will this my misery last!

Arie.

  • In des Lehens Frühlingstagen,
  • Ist das Glück von mir gefloh’n.
  • Wahrheit wagt ich kühn zu sagen,
  • Und die Ketten sind mein Lohn.
  • Willig duld’ ich alle Schmerzen,
  • Ende schmählich meine Bahn;
  • Süsser Trost in meinem Herzen:
  • Meine Pflicht hab’ ich gethan,
  • [In einer, an Wahnsina gränzenden, jedoch ruhigen Begeisterung.

Air.

  • In the bright morning of life
  • My liberty, alas! was lost:
  • These chains are the reward
  • Of true and open speaking.
  • But what avails my lamentations?
  • Hopeless is my condition:
  • The only solace for my torments
  • Rests on my conscious innocence.
  • [Enthusiastically, but calmly.
lf1422_figure_006

UND SPUR ICH NICHT LINDE—WHAT FEELING COMES O’ER ME. Air. Florestan.

[Er sinkt, erschöpft, von der letzten Gemüthbewegung auf den Felsensitz wieder; seine Hande verhüllen sein Gesicht.

[He sinks, exhausted, upon the stony seat, concealing his jace with his hands.