“Ah! my Fidelio that is thee indeed!
My heart can pierce thy troubadour’s disguise;
Oh do not make my faithful bosom bleed
By such too cruel song! within me lies
The woman’s truthful heart that aye defies
The frowns of fortune, the decrees of fate,
And all the change in mortal destinies.
How light to me the pomp of wealth and state;
Thy truth, and sword alone, make thee my fitter mate!”
How glad their hearts in that enraptured hour!