er makes his name important in the
history of opera.

Although Paris was the nursery of all that was best in opera at this
period, to Germany belongs the credit of producing the one work dating
from the beginning of the nineteenth century which deserves to rank with
the masterpieces of the previous generation--Beethoven's 'Fidelio.'
Beethoven's (1770-1827) one contribution to the lyric stage was written
in 1804 and 1805, and was produced at Vienna in the latter year, during
the French occupation. The libretto is a translation from the French,
and the story had already formed the basis of more than one opera;
indeed, it was a performance of Paer's 'Eleonora' which originally led
Beethoven to think of writing his work. Simple as it is, the plot has
true nobility of design, and the purity of its motive contrasts
favourably with the tendency of the vast majority of lyric dramas.
Florestan, a Spanish nobleman, has fallen into the power of his
bitterest enemy, Pizarro, the governor of a state prison near Madrid.
There the unfortunate Florestan is confined in a loathsome dungeon
without light or air, dependent upon the mercy of Pizarro for the merest
crust of bread. Leonore, the unhappy prisoner's wife, has discovered his
place of confinement, and, in the hope of rescuing him, disguises
herself in male attire and hires herself as servant to Rocco, the head
gaoler, under the name of Fidelio. In this condition she has to endure
the advances of Marcelline, the daughter of Rocco, who neglects her
lover Jaquino for the sake of the attractive new-comer. Before Leonore
has had time to mature her plans, news comes to the prison of the
approaching visit of the Minister Fernando on a tour of inspection.
Pizarro's only chance of escaping the detection of his crime is to put
an end to Florestan's existence, and he orders Rocco to dig a grave in
the prisoner's cell. Leonore obtains leave to help the gaoler in his
task, and together they descend to the dungeon, where the unfortunate
Florestan is lying in a half inanimate condition. When their task is
finished Pizarro himself comes down, and is on the point of stabbing
Florestan, when Leonore throws herself between him and his victim, a
pistol in her hand, and threatens the assassin with instant death if he
advance a step. At that moment a flourish of trumpets announces the
arrival of Fernando. Pizarro is forced to hurry off to receive his
guest, and the husband and wife rush into each other