The Madisonian. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1845, 1839-11-20

mo, but he will soon enter happier
world-silence. here come his highness.'
Boy, leave us Rocco. is all prepared
Aye, your highness; but, pray what Is
his crime whom we are about TO bury r
Treason and blasphemy Why that ques-
ton You i0ould nor suspect me Of murder
But hasten! There is not moment TO lose
follow me-
.Ah, tyrant! your words have been over
heard by her anxious ear, whose eye is fixed
upon YOU with the intensity of despair. The
| fatal moment draws near. One effort more,
one struggle for courage and serenity! Hear
how that anguished wife pours forth her soul
| in melody; see how she summons her ener-
pes and invokes Providence to her aid
Such music never was coupled to such dra-
| matte power upon those boards since the days
of Malibran and purer, chaser voice than
this, surely never appealed TO your kindlier
sympathies. You are not asked to applaud;
but you follow its writings as If your own
heart were tortured
What no applause that magnlli-
cent seene--none for the trio that ensues
Dear me, fear il will be failure
Patience, my friend Give the public
time, and trust to Beethoven-he will main
tain his own glory. Fear not, his is the sway
of an enchan,er, which often strikes dumb
Those bursts Of enthusiasm greeted the
melting hymn of sorrow now dying on the
lips OF the captive, whose heart beats TO the
clank Of his letters, in yonder gloomy dun
geon. He now lies exhausted upon his couch.
! Fidelio and Rocco are seen descending the
stairway. While the jailor is digging grave
Fidelio seeks TO recognize the face OF the
sleeping prisoner-but her eyes are blinded
by tears. He awakes-she hears his well
known voice
Why, Fidelio, how you tremble =
''Tis the cold, Rocco, and you, too, are
agitated.'
We'll, | am little moved
'Good jailer, give me a drop Of water, or
die with thirst
81 have no wster, but to this little remnant
of wine you are welcome
Pray, who is the Governor Of this For
tress ~
well. may tell him that Don Pi-
zarro.'
Pizarro! Fly to Madrid, seek out my
wife, the lady Lenora Florestano, tell her
that |, her husband, am pining in this dun
geon.'
Il cannot
See that agtated wife controlling the heart
that leaps towards her husband, that he may
be saved
sHark! The hour is come. The Governor
enters, drives forth the lad, and, tger-like,
approaches his defenceess victim. His po-
niard is bare, and his hate flashes out in fury.
as he once more beholds its object.
Die Foresano |! Ha who comes between
me and my revenge! Away, child )!
But that child springs from the earth on
which the dastard's hand had cast him, and
again interposes. This time it is the wife who
defends her husband as the lioness crouches
before her, young.
Shall woman battle Pizarrop
The dagger is brandished anew
Stand back 2 for in each OF those gentle
hands Death frowns, in loaded pistol
Rave on assassin Listen to that trumpet
which calls you hence 1t is your masters
bidding!
When woman's love had achieved its pur-
pose, and that wife had rescued her husband
when the benign will that condemned the
murderer to die, welcomed the victim Of life,
and rcinstated Florestano in his honors; and
after all these events had been summed up in
magnificent finale which filled the air with
waves of harmony, and pervaded the whole
house-thsn untutored enthusiasm Of the
masses that crowded it hurls forth and echoed
the sublime tones in which the voice of Bee
thoren appeals to pos:erity. >.