An instrumental introduction ushers in the second act.  It is a musical delineation of Florestan’s surroundings, sufferings, and mental anguish.  The darkness is rent by shrieks of pain; harsh, hollow, and threatening sound the throbs of the kettle-drums.  The parting of the curtain discloses the prisoner chained to his rocky couch.  He declaims against the gloom, the silence, the deathly void surrounding him, but comforts himself with the thought that his sufferings are but the undeserved punishment inflicted by an enemy for righteous duty done.  The melody of the slow part of his air, which begins thus,

[Musical excerpt—­“In des Lebens Fruhlingstaten ist das Gluck von mir gefloh’n.”]

will find mention again when the overtures come under discussion.  His sufferings have overheated his fancy, and, borne upon cool and roseate breezes, he sees a vision of his wife, Leonore, come to comfort and rescue him.  His exaltation reaches a frenzy which leaves him sunk in exhaustion on his couch.  Rocco and Leonore come to dig his grave.  Melodramatic music accompanies their preparation, and their conversation while at work forms a duet.  Sustained trombone tones spread a portentous atmosphere, and a contra-bassoon adds weight and solemnity to the motif which describes the labor of digging:—­

[Musical excerpt]

They have stopped to rest and refresh themselves, when Florestan becomes conscious and addresses Rocco.  Leonore recognizes his voice as that of her husband, and when he pleads for a drink of water, she gives him, with Rocco’s permission, the wine left in her pitcher, then a bit of bread.  A world of pathos informs his song of gratitude.  Pizarro comes to commit the murder, but first he commands that the boy be sent away, and confesses his purpose to make way with both Fidelio and Rocco when once the deed is done.  He cannot resist the temptation to disclose his identity to Florestan, who, though released from the stone, is still fettered.  The latter confronts death calmly, but as Pizarro is about to plunge the dagger into his breast, Leonore (who had concealed herself in the darkness) throws herself as a protecting shield before him.  Pizarro, taken aback for a moment, now attempts to thrust Leonore aside, but is again made to pause by her cry, “First kill his wife!” Consternation and amazement seize all and speak out of their ejaculations.  Determined to kill both husband and wife, Pizarro rushes forward again, only to see a pistol thrust into his face, hear a shriek, “Another word, and you are dead!” and immediately after the trumpet signal which, by his own command, announces the coming of the Minister of Justice:—­

[Musical excerpt]

Pizarro is escorted out of the dungeon by Rocco and attendants with torches, and the reunited lovers are left to themselves and their frenetic rejoicings.  Surrounded by his guard, the populace attracted by his coming, and the prisoners into whose condition he had come to inquire, Don Fernando metes out punishment to the wicked Pizarro, welcomes his old friend back to liberty and honor, and bids Leonore remove his fetters as the only person worthy of such a task.  The populace hymn wifely love and fidelity.