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+The Project Gutenberg EBook Fiesco (play), by Frederich Schiller
+
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+Title: Fiesco [or, The Genoese Conspiracy]
+
+Author: Frederich Schiller
+
+Release Date: Oct, 2004  [EBook #6783]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on January 15, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+
+
+
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIESCO BY SCHILLER ***
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by Tapio Riikonen
+and David Widger, widger@cecomet.net
+
+
+
+
+
+                  FIESCO; OR, THE GENOESE CONSPIRACY.
+
+                             A TRAGEDY.
+
+
+                       By Frederich Schiller
+
+
+
+AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
+
+The chief sources from which I have drawn the history of this conspiracy
+are Cardinal de Retz's Conjuration du Comte Jean Louis de Fiesque, the
+Histoire des Genes, and the third volume of Robertson's History of
+Charles the Fifth.
+
+The liberties which I have taken with the historical facts will be
+excused, if I have succeeded in my attempt; and, if not, it is better
+that my failure should appear in the effusions of fancy, than in the
+delineation of truth.  Some deviation from the real catastrophe of the
+conspiracy (according to which the count actually perished [A] when his
+schemes were nearly ripe for execution) was rendered necessary by the
+nature of the drama, which does not allow the interposition either of
+chance or of a particular Providence.  It would be matter of surprise
+to me that this subject has never been adopted by any tragic writer,
+did not the circumstances of its conclusion, so unfit for dramatic
+representation, afford a sufficient reason for such neglect.  Beings of
+a superior nature may discriminate the finest links of that chain which
+connects an individual action with the system of the universe, and may,
+perhaps, behold them extended to the utmost limits of time, past and
+future; but man seldom sees more than the simple facts, divested of their
+various relations of cause and effect.  The writer, therefore, must adapt
+his performance to the short-sightedness of human nature, which he would
+enlighten; and not to the penetration of Omniscience, from which all
+intelligence is derived.
+
+In my Tragedy of the Robbers it was my object to delineate the victim of
+an extravagant sensibility; here I endeavor to paint the reverse; a
+victim of art and intrigue.  But, however strongly marked in the page of
+history the unfortunate project of Fiesco may appear, on the stage it may
+prove less interesting.  If it be true that sensibility alone awakens
+sensibility, we may conclude that the political hero is the less
+calculated for dramatic representation, in proportion as it becomes
+necessary to lay aside the feelings of a man in order to become a
+political hero.
+
+It was, therefore, impossible for me to breathe into my fable that
+glowing life which animates the pure productions of poetical inspiration;
+but, in order to render the cold and sterile actions of the politician
+capable of affecting the human heart, I was obliged to seek a clue to
+those actions in the human heart itself.  I was obliged to blend together
+the man and the politician, and to draw from the refined intrigues of
+state situations interesting to humanity.  The relations which I bear to
+society are such as unfold to me more of the heart than of the cabinet;
+and, perhaps, this very political defect may have become a poetical
+excellence.
+
+
+[A]  Fiesco, after having succeeded in the chief objects of his
+undertaking, happened to fall into the sea whilst hastening to quell some
+disturbances on board of a vessel in the harbor; the weight of his armor
+rendered his struggles ineffectual, and he perished.  The deviation from
+history in the tragedy might have been carried farther, and would perhaps
+have rendered it more suitable to dramatic representation.--Translation.
+
+
+
+
+
+                  FIESCO; OR, THE GENOESE CONSPIRACY.
+
+                            A TRAGEDY.
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+
+ANDREAS DORIA, Duke of Genoa, a venerable old man, eighty years of age,
+retaining the traces of a high spirit: the chief features in this
+character are dignity and a rigid brevity in command.
+
+GIANETTINO DORIA, nephew of the former, and pretender to the ducal power,
+twenty-six years of age, rough and forbidding in his address, deportment,
+and manners, with a vulgar pride and disgusting features.
+
+FIESCO, Count of Lavagna, chief of the conspiracy, a tall, handsome young
+man, twenty-three years of age; his character is that of dignified pride
+and majestic affability, with courtly complaisance and deceitfulness.
+
+VERRINA, a determined republican, sixty years of age; grave, austere, and
+inflexible: a marked character.
+
+BOURGOGNINO, a conspirator, a youth of twenty; frank and high-spirited,
+proud, hasty, and undisguised.
+
+CALCAGNO, a conspirator, a worn-out debauchee of thirty; insinuating and
+enterprising.
+
+SACCO, a conspirator, forty-five years of age, with no distinguishing
+trait of character.
+
+LOMELLINO, in the confidence of the pretender, a haggard courtier.
+
+ZENTURIONE,  |
+ZIBO,        |  Malcontents.
+ASSERATO,    |
+
+ROMANO, a painter, frank and simple, with the pride of genius.
+
+MULEY HASSAN, a Moor of Tunis, an abandoned character, with a physiognomy
+displaying an original mixture of rascality and humor.
+
+A GERMAN of the ducal body-guard, of an honest simplicity, and steady
+bravery.
+
+THREE SEDITIOUS CITIZENS.
+
+LEONORA, the wife of Fiesco, eighteen years of age, of great sensibility;
+her appearance pale and slender, engaging, but not dazzling; her
+countenance marked with melancholy; her dress black.
+
+JULIA, Countess dowager Imperiali, sister of the younger Doria, aged
+twenty-five; a proud coquette, in person tall and full, her beauty
+spoiled by affectation, with a sarcastic maliciousness in her
+countenance; her dress black.
+
+BERTHA, daughter of Verrina, an innocent girl.
+
+ROSA,      |  Maids of Leonora.
+ARABELLA,  |
+
+Several Nobles, Citizens, Germans, Soldiers, Thieves.
+
+     (SCENE--Genoa.  TIME--the year 1547.)
+
+
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.--A Saloon in FIESCO'S House.  The distant sound of dancing and
+music is heard.
+
+LEONORA, masked, and attended by ROSA and ARABELLA, enters hastily.
+
+
+LEONORA (tears off her mask).  No more!  Not another word!  'Tis as clear
+as day!  (Throwing herself in a chair.)  This quite overcomes me----
+
+ARABELLA.  My lady!
+
+LEONORA (rising.)  What, before my eyes! with a notorious coquette!  In
+presence of the whole nobility of Genoa! (strongly affected.)--Rosa!
+Arabella! and before my weeping eyes!
+
+ROSA.  Look upon it only as what it really was--a piece of gallantry.  It
+was nothing more.
+
+LEONORA.  Gallantry!  What!  Their busy interchange of glances--the
+anxious watching of her every motion--the long and eager kiss upon her
+naked arm, impressed with a fervor that left in crimson glow the very
+traces of his lips!  Ha! and the transport that enwrapped his soul, when,
+with fixed eyes, he sate like painted ecstacy, as if the world around him
+had dissolved, and naught remained in the eternal void but he and Julia.
+Gallantry?  Poor thing!  Thou hast never loved.  Think not that thou
+canst teach me to distinguish gallantry from love!
+
+ROSA.  No matter, Signora!  A husband lost is as good as ten lovers
+gained.
+
+LEONORA.  Lost?  Is then one little intermission of the heart's
+pulsations a proof that I have lost Fiesco?  Go, malicious slanderer!
+Come no more into my presence!  'Twas an innocent frolic--perhaps a mere
+piece of gallantry.  Say, my gentle Arabella, was it not so?
+
+ARABELLA.  Most certainly!  There can be no doubt of it!
+
+LEONORA (in a reverie).  But does she then feel herself sole mistress of
+his heart?  Does her name lurk in his every thought?--meet him in every
+phase of nature?  Can it be?  Whither will these thoughts lead me?  Is
+this beautiful and majestic world to him but as one precious diamond, on
+which her image--her image alone--is engraved?  That he should love her?
+--love Julia!  Oh!  Your arm--support me, Arabella!  (A pause; music is
+again heard.)
+
+LEONORA (starting).  Hark!  Was not that Fiesco's voice, which from the
+tumult penetrated even hither?  Can he laugh while his Leonora weeps in
+solitude?  Oh, no, my child, it was the coarse, loud voice of Gianettino.
+
+ARABELLA.  It was, Signora--but let us retire to another apartment.
+
+LEONORA.  You change color, Arabella--you are false.  In your looks, in
+the looks of all the inhabitants of Genoa, I read a something--a
+something which--(hiding her face)--oh, certainly these Genoese know more
+than should reach a wife's ear.
+
+ROSA.  Oh, jealousy! thou magnifier of trifles!
+
+LEONORA (with melancholy enthusiasm).  When he was still Fiesco; when in
+the orange-grove, where we damsels walked, I saw him--a blooming Apollo,
+blending the manly beauty of Antinous!  Such was his noble and majestic
+deportment, as if the illustrious state of Genoa rested alone upon his
+youthful shoulders.  Our eyes stole trembling glances at him, and shrunk
+back, as if with conscious guilt, whene'er they encountered the lightning
+of his looks.  Ah, Arabella, how we devoured those looks! with what
+anxious envy did every one count those directed to her companions!  They
+fell among us like the golden apple of discord--tender eyes burned
+fiercely--soft bosoms beat tumultuously--jealousy burst asunder all our
+bonds of friendship----
+
+ARABELLA.  I remember it well.  All Genoa's female hearts were in
+rebellious ferment for so enviable a prize!
+
+LEONORA (in rapture).  And now to call him mine!  Giddy, wondrous
+fortune!--to call the pride of Genoa mine!--he who from the chisel
+of the exhaustless artist, Nature, sprang forth all-perfect, combining
+every greatness of his sex in the most perfect union.  Hear me, damsels!
+I can no longer conceal it--hear me!  I confide to you something
+(mysteriously)--a thought!--when I stood at the altar with Fiesco,--when
+his hand lay in mine,--a thought, too daring for woman, rushed across me.
+"This Fiesco, whose hand now lies in thine--thy Fiesco"--but hush! let no
+man hear us boast how far he excels all others of his sex.  "This, thy
+Fiesco"--ah, could you but share my feelings!--"will free Genoa from its
+tyrants!"
+
+ARABELLA (astonished).  And could this dream haunt a woman's mind even at
+the nuptial shrine?
+
+LEONORA.  Yes, my Arabella,--well mayest thou be astonished--to the bride
+it came, even in the joy of the bridal hour (more animated).  I am a
+woman, but I feel the nobleness of my blood.  I cannot bear to see these
+proud Dorias thus overtop our family.  The good old Andreas--it is a
+pleasure to esteem him.  He may indeed, unenvied, bear the ducal dignity;
+but Gianettino is his nephew--his heir--and Gianettino has a proud and
+wicked heart.  Genoa trembles before him, and Fiesco (much affected)--
+Fiesco--weep with me, damsels!--loves his sister.
+
+ARABELLA.
+Alas, my wretched mistress!
+
+LEONORA.  Go now, and see this demi-god of the Genoese--amid the
+shameless circles of debauchery and lust! hear the vile jests and wanton
+ribaldry with which he entertains his base companions!  That is Fiesco!
+Ah, damsels, not only has Genoa lost its hero, but I have lost my
+husband!
+
+ROSA.  Speak lower! some one is coming through the gallery.
+
+LEONORA (alarmed).  Ha!  'Tis Fiesco--let us hasten away--the sight of me
+might for a moment interrupt his happiness.  (She hastens into a side
+apartment; the maids follow.)
+
+
+
+SCENE IL
+
+     GIANETTINO DORIA, masked, in a green cloak, and the MOOR,
+     enter in conversation.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Thou hast understood me!
+
+MOOR.  Well----
+
+GIANETTINO.  The white mask----
+
+MOOR.  Well----
+
+GIANETTINO.  I say, the white mask----
+
+MOOR.  Well--well--well----
+
+GIANETTINO.  Dost thou mark me?  Thou canst only fail here! (pointing to
+his heart).
+
+MOOR.  Give yourself no concern.
+
+GIANETTINO.  And be sure to strike home----
+
+MOOR.  He shall have enough.
+
+GIANETTINO (maliciously).  That the poor count may not have long to
+suffer.
+
+MOOR.  With your leave, sir, a word--at what weight do you estimate his
+head?
+
+GIANETTINO.  What weight?  A hundred sequins----
+
+MOOR (blowing through his fingers).  Poh!  Light as a feather!
+
+GIANETTINO.  What art thou muttering?
+
+MOOR.  I was saying--it is light work.
+
+GIANETTINO.  That is thy concern.  He is the very loadstone of sedition.
+Mark me, sirrah! let thy blow be sure.
+
+MOOR.  But, sir,--I must fly to Venice immediately after the deed.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Then take my thanks beforehand.  (He throws him a
+bank-note.)  In three days at farthest he must be cold.
+
+                                                    [Exit.
+
+MOOR (picking up the note).  Well, this really is what I call credit to
+trust--the simple word of such a rogue as I am!
+
+                                                    [Exit.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+     CALCAGNO, behind him SACCO, both in black cloaks.
+
+CALCAGNO.  I perceive thou watchest all my steps.
+
+SACCO.  And I observe thou wouldst conceal them from me.  Attend,
+Calcagno!  For some weeks past I have remarked the workings of thy
+countenance.  They bespeak more than concerns the interests of our
+country.  Brother, I should think that we might mutually exchange our
+confidence without loss on either side.  What sayest thou?  Wilt thou be
+sincere?
+
+CALCAGNO.  So truly, that thou shalt not need to dive into the recesses
+of my soul; my heart shall fly half-way to meet thee on my tongue--I love
+the Countess of Fiesco.
+
+SACCO (starts back with astonishment).  That, at least, I should not have
+discovered had I made all possibilities pass in review before me.  My
+wits are racked to comprehend thy choice, but I must have lost them
+altogether if thou succeed.
+
+CALCAGNO.  They say she is a pattern of the strictest virtue.
+
+SACCO.  They lie.  She is the whole volume on that insipid text.
+Calcagno, thou must choose one or the other--either to give up thy heart
+or thy profession.
+
+CALCAGNO.  The Count is faithless to her; and of all the arts that may
+seduce a woman the subtlest is jealousy.  A plot against the Dorias will
+at the same time occupy the Count, and give me easy access to his house.
+Thus, while the shepherd guards against the wolf, the fox shall make
+havoc of the poultry.
+
+SACCO.  Incomparable brother, receive my thanks!  A blush is now
+superfluous, and I can tell thee openly what just now I was ashamed even
+to think.  I am a beggar if the government be not soon overturned.
+
+CALCAGNO.  What, are thy debts so great?
+
+SACCO.  So immense that even one-tenth of them would more than swallow
+ten times my income.  A convulsion of the state will give me breath; and
+if it do not cancel all my debts, at least 'twill stop the mouths of
+bawling creditors.
+
+CALCAGNO.  I understand thee; and if then, perchance, Genoa should be
+freed, Sacco will be hailed his country's savior.  Let no one trick out
+to me the threadbare tale of honesty, if the fate of empires hang on the
+bankruptcy of a prodigal and the lust of a debauchee.  By heaven, Sacco,
+I admire the wise design of Providence, that in us would heal the
+corruptions in the heart of the state by the vile ulcers on its limbs.
+Is thy design unfolded to Verrina?
+
+SACCO.  As far as it can be unfolded to a patriot.  Thou knowest his
+iron integrity, which ever tends to that one point, his country.  His
+hawk-like eye is now fixed on Fiesco, and he has half-conceived a hope of
+thee to join the bold conspiracy.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Oh, he has an excellent nose!  Come, let us seek him, and fan
+the flame of liberty in his breast by our accordant spirit.
+
+                                                        [Exeunt.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+     JULIA, agitated with anger, and FIESCO, in a white mask,
+     following her.
+
+JULIA.  Servants! footmen!
+
+FIESCO.  Countess, whither are you going?  What do you intend?
+
+JULIA.  Nothing--nothing at all.  (To the servants, who enter and
+immediately retire.)  Let my carriage draw up----
+
+FIESCO.  Pardon me, it must not.  You are offended.
+
+JULIA.  Oh, by no means.  Away--you tear my dress to pieces.  Offended.
+Who is here that can offend me?  Go, pray go.
+
+FIESCO (upon one knee).  Not till you tell me what impertinent----
+
+JULIA (stands still in a haughty attitude).  Fine!  Fine!  Admirable!
+Oh, that the Countess of Lavagna might be called to view this charming
+scene!  How, Count, is this like a husband?  This posture would better
+suit the chamber of your wife when she turns over the journal of your
+caresses and finds a void in the account.  Rise, sir, and seek those to
+whom your overtures will prove more acceptable.  Rise--unless you think
+your gallantries will atone for your wife's impertinence.
+
+FIESCO (jumping up).  Impertinence!  To you?
+
+JULIA.  To break up!  To push away her chair!  To turn her back upon the
+table--that table, Count, where I was sitting----
+
+FIESCO.  'Tis inexcusable.
+
+JULIA.  And is that all?  Out upon the jade!  Am I, then, to blame
+because the Count makes use of his eyes?  (Smilingly admiring herself.)
+
+FIESCO.  'Tis the fault of your beauty, madam, that keeps them in such
+sweet slavery.
+
+JULIA.  Away with compliment where honor is concerned.  Count, I insist
+on satisfaction.  Where shall I find it, in you, or in my uncle's
+vengeance?
+
+FIESCO.  Find it in the arms of love--of love that would repair the
+offence of jealousy.
+
+JULIA.  Jealousy!  Jealousy!  Poor thing!  What would she wish for?
+(Admiring herself in the glass.)  Could she desire a higher compliment
+than were I to declare her taste my own?  (Haughtily.)  Doria and Fiesco!
+Would not the Countess of Lavagna have reason to feel honored if Doria's
+niece deigned to envy her choice?  (In a friendly tone, offering the
+Count her hand to kiss.)  I merely assume the possibility of such a case,
+Count.
+
+FIESCO (with animation).  Cruel Countess!  Thus to torment me.  I know,
+divine Julia, that respect is all I ought to feel for you.  My reason
+bids me bend a subject's knee before the race of Doria; but my heart
+adores the beauteous Julia.  My love is criminal, but 'tis also heroic,
+and dares o'erleap the boundaries of rank, and soar towards the dazzling
+sun of majesty.
+
+JULIA.  A great and courtly falsehood, paraded upon stilts!  While his
+tongue deifies me, his heart beats beneath the picture of another.
+
+FIESCO.  Rather say it beats indignantly against it, and would shake off
+the odious burden.  (Taking the picture of LEONORA, which is suspended by
+a sky-blue ribbon from his breast, and delivering it to JULIA.)  Place
+your own image on that altar and you will instantly annihilate this idol.
+
+JULIA (pleased, puts by the picture hastily).  A great sacrifice, by mine
+honor, and which deserves my thanks.  (Hangs her own picture about his
+neck.)  So, my slave, henceforth bear your badge of service.
+
+                                                        [Exit.
+
+FIESCO (with transport).  Julia loves me!  Julia!  I envy not even the
+gods.  (Exulting.)  Let this night be a jubilee.  Joy shall attain its
+summit.  Ho! within there!  (Servants come running in.)  Let the floors
+swim with Cyprian nectar, soft strains of music rouse midnight from her
+leaden slumber, and a thousand burning lamps eclipse the morning sun.
+Pleasure shall reign supreme, and the Bacchanal dance so wildly beat the
+ground that the dark kingdom of the shades below shall tremble at the
+uproar!
+
+     [Exit hastily.  A noisy allegro, during which the back scene opens,
+     and discovers a grand illuminated saloon, many masks--dancing.  At
+     the side, drinking and playing tables, surrounded with company.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+     GIANETTINO, almost intoxicated, LOMELLINO, ZIBO, ZENTURIONE,
+     VERRINA, CALCAGNO, all masked.  Several other nobles and ladies.
+
+GIANETTINO (boisterously).  Bravo!  Bravo!  These wines glide down
+charmingly.  The dancers perform a merveille.  Go, one of you, and
+publish it throughout Genoa that I am in good humor, and that every
+one may enjoy himself.  By my ruling star this shall be marked as a
+red-letter day in the calendar, and underneath be written,--"This day was
+Prince Doria merry."  (The guests lift their glasses to their mouths.  A
+general toast of "The Republic."  Sound of trumpets.)  The Republic?
+(Throwing his glass violently on the ground.)  There lie its fragments.
+(Three black masks suddenly rise and collect about GIANETTINO.)
+
+LOMELLINO (supporting GIANETTINO on his arm).  My lord, you lately spoke
+of a young girl whom you saw in the church of St. Lorenzo.
+
+GIANETTINO.  I did, my lad! and I must make her acquaintance.
+
+LOMELLINO.  That I can manage for your grace.
+
+GIANETTINO (with vehemence).  Can you?  Can you?  Lomellino, you were a
+candidate for the procuratorship.  You shall have it.
+
+LOMELLINO.  Gracious prince, it is the second dignity in the state; more
+than threescore noblemen seek it, and all of them more wealthy and
+honorable than your grace's humble servant.
+
+GIANETTINO (indignantly).  By the name of Doria!  You shall be
+procurator.  (The three masks come forward).  What talk you of nobility
+in Genoa?  Let them all throw their ancestry and honors into the scale,
+one hair from the white beard of my old uncle will make it kick the beam.
+It is my will that you be procurator, and that is tantamount to the votes
+of the whole senate.
+
+LOMELLINO (in a low voice).  The damsel is the only daughter of one
+Verrina.
+
+GIANETTINO.  The girl is pretty, and, in spite of all the devils in hell,
+I must possess her.
+
+LOMELLINO.  What, my lord! the only child of the most obstinate of our
+republicans?
+
+GIANETTINO.  To hell with your republicans!  Shall my passion be thwarted
+by the anger of a vassal?  'Tis as vain as to expect the tower should
+fall when the boys pelt it with mussel-shells.  (The three black masks
+step nearer, with great emotion.)  What!  Has the Duke Andreas gained his
+scars in battle for their wives and children, only that his nephew should
+court the favor of these vagabond republicans!  By the name of Doria they
+shall swallow this fancy of mine, or I will plant a gallows over the
+bones of my uncle, on which their Genoese liberty shall kick itself to
+death.  (The three masks step back in disgust.)
+
+LOMELLINO.  The damsel is at this moment alone.  Her father is here, and
+one of those three masks.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Excellent!  Bring me instantly to her.
+
+LOMELLINO.  But you will seek in her a mistress, and find a prude.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Force is the best rhetoric.  Lead me to her.  Would I could
+see that republican dog that durst stand in the way of the bear Doria.
+(Going, meets FIESCO at the door.)  Where is the Countess?
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+     FIESCO and the former.
+
+FIESCO.  I have handed her to her carriage.  (Takes GIANETTINO'S hand,
+and presses it to his breast.)  Prince, I am now doubly your slave.  To
+you I bow, as sovereign of Genoa--to your lovely sister, as mistress of
+my heart.
+
+LOMELLINO.  Fiesco has become a mere votary of pleasure.  The great world
+has lost much in you.
+
+FIESCO.  But Fiesco has lost nothing in giving up the world.  To live is
+to dream, and to dream pleasantly is to be wise.  Can this be done more
+certainly amid the thunders of a throne, where the wheels of government
+creak incessantly upon the tortured ear, than on the heaving bosom of an
+enamored woman?  Let Gianettino rule over Genoa; Fiesco shall devote
+himself to love.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Away, Lomellino!  It is near midnight.  The time draws near
+--Lavagna, we thank thee for thy entertainment--I have been satisfied.
+
+FIESCO.  That, prince, is all that I can wish.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Then good-night!  To-morrow we have a party at the palace,
+and Fiesco is invited.  Come, procurator!
+
+FIESCO.  Ho!  Lights there!  Music!
+
+GIANETTINO (haughtily, rushing through the three masks).  Make way there
+for Doria!
+
+ONE OF THE THREE MASKS (murmuring indignantly).  Make way?  In hell!
+Never in Genoa!
+
+THE GUESTS (in motion).  The prince is going.  Good night, Lavagna!
+(They depart.)
+
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+     The THREE BLACK MASKS and FIESCO.  (A pause.)
+
+FIESCO.  I perceive some guests here who do not share the pleasure of the
+feast.
+
+MASKS (murmuring to each other with indignation).  No!  Not one of us.
+
+FIESCO (courteously).  Is it possible that my attention should have been
+wanting to any one of my guests?  Quick, servants!  Let the music be
+renewed, and fill the goblets to the brim.  I would not that my friends
+should find the time hang heavy.  Will you permit me to amuse you with
+fireworks.  Would you choose to see the frolics of my harlequin?  Perhaps
+you would be pleased to join the ladies.  Or shall we sit down to faro,
+and pass the time in play?
+
+A MASK.  We are accustomed to spend it in action.
+
+FIESCO.  A manly answer--such as bespeaks Verrina.
+
+VERRINA (unmasking).  Fiesco is quicker to discover his friends beneath
+their masks than they to discover him beneath his.
+
+FIESCO.  I understand you not.  But what means that crape of mourning
+around your arm?  Can death have robbed Verrina of a friend, and Fiesco
+not know the loss?
+
+VERRINA.  Mournful tales ill suit Fiesco's joyful feasts.
+
+FIESCO.  But if a friend--(pressing his hand warmly.)  Friend of my soul!
+For whom must we both mourn?
+
+VRRRINA.  Both! both!  Oh, 'tis but too true we both should mourn--yet
+not all sons lament their mother.
+
+FIESCO.  'Tis long since your mother was mingled with the dust.
+
+VERRINA (with an earnest look).  I do remember me that Fiesco once called
+me brother, because we both were sons of the same country!
+
+FIESCO (jocosely).  Oh, is it only that?  You meant then but to jest?
+The mourning dress is worn for Genoa!  True, she lies indeed in her last
+agonies.  The thought is new and singular.  Our cousin begins to be a
+wit.
+
+VERRINA.  Fiesco!  I spoke most seriously.
+
+FIESCO.  Certainly--certainly.  A jest loses its point when he who makes
+it is the first to laugh.  But you!  You looked like a mute at a funeral.
+Who could have thought that the austere Verrina should in his old age
+become such a wag!
+
+SACCO.  Come, Verrina.  He never will be ours.
+
+FIESCO.  Be merry, brother.  Let us act the part of the cunning heir, who
+walks in the funeral procession with loud lamentations, laughing to
+himself the while, under the cover of his handkerchief.  'Tis true we may
+be troubled with a harsh step-mother.  Be it so--we will let her scold,
+and follow our own pleasures.
+
+VERRINA (with great emotion).  Heaven and earth!  Shall we then do
+nothing?  What is to become of you, Fiesco?  Where am I to seek that
+determined enemy of tyrants?  There was a time when but to see a crown
+would have been torture to you.  Oh, fallen son of the republic!  By
+heaven, if time could so debase my soul I would spurn immortality.
+
+FIESCO.  O rigid censor!  Let Doria put Genoa in his pocket, or barter it
+with the robbers of Tunis.  Why should it trouble us?  We will drown
+ourselves in floods of Cyprian wine, and revel it in the sweet caresses
+of our fair ones.
+
+VERRINA (looking at him with earnestness).  Are these indeed your serious
+thoughts?
+
+FIESCO.  Why should they not be, my friend?  Think you 'tis a pleasure to
+be the foot of that many-legged monster, a republic?  No--thanks be to
+him who gives it wings, and deprives the feet of their functions!  Let
+Gianettino be the duke, affairs of state shall ne'er lie heavy on our
+heads.
+
+VERRINA.  Fiesco!  Is that truly and seriously your meaning?
+
+FIESCO.  Andreas adopts his nephew as a son, and makes him heir to his
+estates; what madman will dispute with him the inheritance of his power?
+
+VERRINA (with the utmost indignation).  Away, then, Genoese!  (Leaves
+FIESCO hastily, the rest follow.)
+
+FIESCO.  Verrina!  Verrina!  Oh, this republican is as hard as steel!
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+     FIESCO.  A MASK entering.
+
+MASK.  Have you a minute or two to spare, Lavagna?
+
+FIESCO (in an obliging manner).  An hour if you request it.
+
+MASK.  Then condescend to walk into the fields with me.
+
+FIESCO.  It wants but ten minutes of midnight.
+
+MASK.  Walk with me, Count, I pray.
+
+FIESCO.  I will order my carriage.
+
+MASK.  That is useless--I shall send one horse: we want no more, for only
+one of us, I hope, will return.
+
+FIESCO (with surprise).  What say you?
+
+MASK.  A bloody answer will be demanded of you, touching a certain tear.
+
+FIESCO.  What tear?
+
+MASK.  A tear shed by the Countess of Lavagna.  I am acquainted with that
+lady, and demand to know how she has merited to be sacrificed to a
+worthless woman?
+
+FIESCO.  I understand you now; but let me ask who 'tis that offers so
+strange a challenge?
+
+MASK.  It is the same that once adored the lady Zibo, and yielded her to
+Fiesco.
+
+FIESCO.  Scipio Bourgognino!
+
+BOURGOGNINO (unmasking).  And who now stands here to vindicate his honor,
+that yielded to a rival base enough to tyrannize over innocence.
+
+FIESCO (embraces him with ardor).  Noble youth! thanks to the sufferings
+of my consort, which have drawn forth the manly feelings of your soul; I
+admire your generous indignation--but I refuse your challenge.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (stepping back).  Does Fiesco tremble to encounter the first
+efforts of my sword?
+
+FIESCO.  No, Bourgognino! against a nation's power combined I would
+boldly venture, but not against you.  The fire of your valor is endeared
+to me by a most lovely object--the will deserves a laurel, but the deed
+would be childish.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (with emotion).  Childish, Count! women can only weep at
+injuries.  'Tis for men to revenge them.
+
+FIESCO.  Uncommonly well said--but fight I will not.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (turning upon him contemptuously).  Count, I shall despise
+you.
+
+FIESCO (with animation).  By heaven, youth, that thou shalt never do--not
+even if virtue fall in value, shall I become a bankrupt.  (Taking him by
+the hand, with a look of earnestness.)  Did you ever feel for me--what
+shall I say--respect?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Had I not thought you were the first of men I should not
+have yielded to you.
+
+FIESCO.  Then, my friend, be not so forward to despise a man who once
+could merit your respect.  It is not for the eye of the youthful artist
+to comprehend at once the master's vast design.  Retire, Bourgognino, and
+take time to weigh the motives of Fiesco's conduct!
+
+     [Exit BOURGOGNINO, in silence.
+
+Go! noble youth! if spirits such as thine break out in flames in thy
+country's cause, let the Dorias see that they stand fast!
+
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+     FIESCO.--The MOOR entering with an appearance of timidity,
+     and looking round cautiously.
+
+FIESCO (fixing his eye on him sharply).  What wouldst thou here?  Who art
+thou?
+
+MOOR (as above).  A slave of the republic.
+
+FIESCO (keeping his eye sharply upon him).  Slavery is a wretched craft.
+What dost thou seek?
+
+MOOR.  Sir, I am an honest man.
+
+FIESCO.  Wear then that label on thy visage, it will not be superfluous--
+but what wouldst thou have?
+
+MOOR (approaching him, FIESCO draws back).  Sir, I am no villain.
+
+FIESCO.  'Tis well thou hast told me that--and yet--'tis not well either
+(impatiently).  What dost thou seek?
+
+MOOR (still approaching).  Are you the Count Lavagna?
+
+FIESCO (haughtily).  The blind in Genoa know my steps--what wouldst thou
+with the Count?
+
+MOOR (close to him).  Be on your guard, Lavagna!
+
+FIESCO (passing hastily to the other side).  That, indeed, I am.
+
+MOOR (again approaching).  Evil designs are formed against you, Count.
+
+FIESCO (retreating).  That I perceive.
+
+MOOR.  Beware of Doria!
+
+FIESCO (approaching him with an air of confidence).  Perhaps my
+suspicions have wronged thee, my friend--Doria is indeed the name I
+dread.
+
+MOOR.  Avoid the man, then.  Can you read?
+
+FIESCO.  A curious question!  Thou hast known, it seems, many of our
+cavaliers.  What writing hast thou?
+
+MOOR.  Your name is amongst other condemned sinners.  (Presents a paper,
+and draws close to FIESCO, who is standing before a looking-glass and
+glancing over the paper--the MOOR steals round him, draws a dagger, and
+is going to stab.)
+
+FIESCO (turning round dexterously, and seizing the MOOR'S arm.)  Stop,
+scoundrel!  (Wrests the dagger from him.)
+
+MOOR (stamps in a frantic manner).  Damnation!  Your pardon--sire!
+
+FIESCO (seizing him, calls with a loud voice).  Stephano!  Drullo!
+Antonio!  (holding the MOOR by the throat.)  Stay, my friend!--what
+hellish villany!  (Servants enter.)  Stay, and answer--thou hast
+performed thy task like a bungler.  Who pays thy wages?
+
+MOOR (after several fruitless attempts to escape).  You cannot hang me
+higher than the gallows are----
+
+FIESCO.  No--be comforted--not on the horns of the moon, but higher than
+ever yet were gallows--yet hold!  Thy scheme was too politic to be of thy
+own contrivance speak, fellow! who hired thee?
+
+MOOR.  Think me a rascal, sir, but not a fool.
+
+FIESCO.  What, is the scoundrel proud?  Speak, sirrah! Who hired thee?
+
+MOOR (aside).  Shall I alone be called a fool?  Who hired me?  'Twas but
+a hundred miserable sequins.  Who hired me, did you ask?  Prince
+Gianettino.
+
+FIESCO (walking about in a passion).  A hundred sequins?  And is that all
+the value set upon Fiesco's head?  Shame on thee, Prince of Genoa!  Here,
+fellow (taking money from an escritoire), are a thousand for thee.  Tell
+thy master he is a niggardly assassin.  (MOOR looks at him with
+astonishment.)  What dost thou gaze at?  (MOOR takes up the money--lays
+it down--takes it up again, and looks at FIESCO with increased
+astonishment).  What dost thou mean?
+
+MOOR (throwing the money resolutely upon the table).  Sir, that money I
+have not earned--I deserve it not.
+
+FIESCO.  Blockhead, thou hast deserved the gallows; but the offended
+elephant tramples on men not on worms.  Were thy life worth but two words
+I would have thee hanged.
+
+MOOR (bowing with an air of pleasure at his escape).  Sir, you are too
+good----
+
+FIESCO.  Not towards thee!  God forbid!  No.  I am amused to think my
+humor can make or unmake such a villain as thou, therefore dost thou go
+scot-free--understand me aright--I take thy failure as an omen of my
+future greatness--'tis this thought that renders me indulgent, and
+preserves thy life.
+
+MOOR (in a tone of confidence).  Count, your hand! honor for honor.  If
+any man in this country has a throat too much--command me, and I'll cut
+it--gratis.
+
+FIESCO.  Obliging scoundrel!  He would show his gratitude by cutting
+throats wholesale!
+
+MOOR.  Men like me, sir, receive no favor without acknowledgment.  We
+know what honor is.
+
+FIESCO.  The honor of cut-throats?
+
+MOOR.  Which is, perhaps, more to be relied on than that of your men of
+character.  They break their oaths made in the name of God.  We keep ours
+pledged to the devil.
+
+FIESCO.  Thou art an amusing villain.
+
+MOOR.  I rejoice to meet your approbation.  Try me; you will find in me a
+man who is a thorough master of his profession.  Examine me; I can show
+my testimonials of villany from every guild of rogues--from the lowest to
+the highest.
+
+FIESCO.  Indeed! (seating himself.)  There are laws and systems then even
+among thieves.  What canst thou tell me of the lowest class?
+
+MOOR.  Oh, sir, they are petty villains, mere pick-pockets.  They are a
+miserable set.  Their trade never produces a man of genius; 'tis confined
+to the whip and workhouse--and at most can lead but to the gallows.
+
+FIESCO.  A charming prospect!  I should like to hear something of a
+superior class.
+
+MOOR.  The next are spies and informers--tools of importance to the
+great, who from their secret information derive their own supposed
+omniscience.  These villains insinuate themselves into the souls of men
+like leeches; they draw poison from the heart, and spit it forth against
+the very source from whence it came.
+
+FIESCO.  I understand thee--go on----
+
+MOOR.  Then come the conspirators, villains that deal in poison, and
+bravoes that rush upon their victims from some secret covert.  Cowards
+they often are, but yet fellows that sell their souls to the devil as the
+fees of their apprenticeship.  The hand of justice binds their limbs to
+the rack or plants their cunning heads on spikes--this is the third
+class.
+
+FIESCO.  But tell me!  When comes thy own?
+
+MOOR.  Patience, my lord--that is the very point I'm coming to--I have
+already passed through all the stages that I mentioned: my genius soon
+soared above their limits.  'Twas but last night I performed my
+masterpiece in the third; this evening I attempted the fourth, and proved
+myself a bungler.
+
+FIESCO.  And how do you describe that class?
+
+MOOR (with energy).  They are men who seek their prey within four walls,
+cutting their way through every danger.  They strike at once, and, by
+their first salute, save him whom they approach the trouble of returning
+thanks for a second.  Between ourselves they are called the express
+couriers of hell: and when Beelzebub is hungry they want but a wink, and
+he gets his mutton warm.
+
+FIESCO.  Thou art an hardened villain--such a tool I want.  Give me thy
+hand--thou shalt serve me.
+
+MOOR.  Jest or earnest?
+
+FIESCO.  In full earnest--and I'll pay thee yearly a 'thousand sequins.
+
+MOOR.  Done, Lavagna!  I am yours.  Away with common business--employ me
+in whate'er you will.  I'll be your setter or your bloodhound--your fox,
+your viper--your pimp, or executioner.  I'm prepared for all commissions
+--except honest ones; in those I am as stupid as a block.
+
+FIESCO.  Fear not!  I would not set the wolf to guard the lamb.  Go thou
+through Genoa to-morrow and sound the temper of the people.  Narrowly
+inquire what they think of the government, and of the house of Doria--
+what of me, my debaucheries, and romantic passion.  Flood their brains
+with wine, until the sentiments of the heart flow over.  Here's money--
+lavish it among the manufacturers----
+
+MOOR.  Sir!
+
+FIESCO.  Be not afraid--no honesty is in the case.  Go, collect what help
+thou canst.  To-morrow I will hear thy report.
+
+                                         [Exit.
+
+MOOR (following).  Rely on me.  It is now four o'clock in the morning, by
+eight to-morrow you shall hear as much news as twice seventy spies can
+furnish.
+
+                                          [Exit.
+
+
+
+SCENE X.--An apartment in the house of VERRINA.
+
+     BERTHA on a couch, supporting her head on her hand--
+
+     VERRINA enters with a look of dejection.
+
+BERTHA (starts up frightened).  Heavens!  He is here!
+
+VERRINA (stops, looking at her with surprise).  My daughter affrighted at
+her father!
+
+BERTHA.  Fly! fly! or let me fly!  Father, your sight is dreadful to me!
+
+VERRINA.  Dreadful to my child!--my only child!
+
+BERTHA (looking at him mournfully).  Oh! you must seek another.  I am no
+more your daughter.
+
+VERRINA.  What, does my tenderness distress you?
+
+BERTHA.  It weighs me down to the earth.
+
+VERRINA.  How, my daughter! do you receive me thus?  Formerly, when I
+came home, my heart o'erburdened with sorrows, my Bertha came running
+towards me, and chased them away with her smiles.  Come, embrace me, my
+daughter!  Reclined upon thy glowing bosom, my heart, when chilled by the
+sufferings of my country, shall grow warm again.  Oh, my child! this day
+I have closed my account with the joys of this world, and thou alone
+(sighing heavily) remainest to me.
+
+BERTHA (casting a long and earnest look at him).  Wretched father!
+
+VERRINA (eagerly embracing her).  Bertha! my only child!  Bertha! my last
+remaining hope!  The liberty of Genoa is lost--Fiesco is lost--and thou
+(pressing her more strongly, with a look of despair) mayest be
+dishonored!
+
+BERTHA (tearing herself from him).  Great God!  You know, then----
+
+VERRINA (trembling).  What?
+
+BERTHA.  My virgin honor----
+
+VERRINA (raging).  What?
+
+BERTHA.  Last night----
+
+VERRINA (furiously.)  Speak!  What!
+
+BERTHA.  Force.  (Sinks down upon the side of the sofa.)
+
+VERRINA (after a long pause, with a hollow voice).  One word more, my
+daughter--thy last!  Who was it?
+
+BERTHA.  Alas, what an angry deathlike paleness!  Great God, support me!
+How his words falter!  His whole frame trembles!
+
+VERRINA.  I cannot comprehend it.  Tell me, my daughter--who?
+
+BERTHA.  Compose yourself, my best, my dearest father!
+
+VERRINA (ready to faint).  For God's sake--who?
+
+BERTHA.  A mask----
+
+VERRINA (steps back, thoughtfully).  No!  That cannot be!--the thought is
+idle--(smiling to himself ).  What a fool am I to think that all the
+poison of my life can flow but from one source!  (Firmly addressing
+himself to BERTHA.)  What was his stature, less than mine or taller?
+
+BERTHA.  Taller.
+
+VERRINA (eagerly).  His hair?  Black, and curled?
+
+BERTHA.  As black as jet and curled?
+
+VERRINA (retiring from her in great emotion).  O God! my brain! my brain!
+His voice?
+
+BERTHA.  Was deep and harsh.
+
+VERRINA (impetuously).  What color was--No!  I'll hear no more!  'His
+cloak!  What color?
+
+BERTHA.  I think his cloak was green.
+
+VERRINA (covering his face with his hands, falls on the couch).  No more.
+This can be nothing but a dream!
+
+BERTHA (wringing her hands).  Merciful heaven!  Is this my father?
+
+VERRINA (after a pause, with a forced smile).  Right!  It serves thee
+right--coward Verrina!  The villain broke into the sanctuary of the laws.
+This did not rouse thee.  Then he violated the sanctuary of thy honor
+(starting up).  Quick!  Nicolo!  Bring balls and powder--but stay--my
+sword were better.  (To BERTHA.)  Say thy prayers!  Ah! what am I going
+to do?
+
+BERTHA.  Father, you make me tremble----
+
+VERRINA.  Come, sit by me, Bertha! (in a solemn manner.)  Tell me,
+Bertha, what did that hoary-headed Roman, when his daughter--like you--
+how can I speak it! fell a prey to ignominy?  Tell me, Bertha, what said
+Virginius to his dishonored daughter?
+
+BERTHA (shuddering).  I know not.
+
+VERRINA.  Foolish girl!  He said nothing--but (rising hastily and
+snatching up a sword) he seized an instrument of death----
+
+BERTHA (terrified, rushes into his arms).  Great God!  What would you do,
+my father?
+
+VERRINA (throwing away the sword).  No!  There is still justice left in
+Genoa.
+
+
+
+SCENE XI.
+
+     SACCO, CALCAGNO, the former.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Verrina, quick! prepare! to-day begins the election week of
+the republic.  Let us early to the Senate House to choose the new
+senators.  The streets are full of people, you will undoubtedly accompany
+us (ironically) to behold the triumph of our liberty.
+
+SACCO (to CALCAGNO).  But what do I see?  A naked sword! Verrina staring
+wildly!  Bertha in tears!
+
+CALCAGNO.  By heavens, it is so.  Sacco! some strange event has happened
+here.
+
+VERRINA (placing two chairs).  Be seated.
+
+SACCO.  Your looks, Verrina, fill us with apprehension.
+
+CALCAGNO.  I never saw you thus before--Bertha is in tears, or your grief
+would have seemed to presage our country's ruin.
+
+VERRINA.  Ruin!  Pray sit down.  (They both seat themselves.)
+
+CALCAGNO.  My friend, I conjure you----
+
+VERRINA.  Listen to me.
+
+CALCAGNO (to SACCO).  I have sad misgivings.
+
+VERRINA.  Genoese! you both know the antiquity of my family.  Your
+ancestors were vassals to my own.  My forefathers fought the battles of
+the state, their wives were patterns of virtue.  Honor was our sole
+inheritance, descending unspotted from the father to the son.  Can any
+one deny it?
+
+SACCO.  No.
+
+CALCAGNO.  No one, by the God of heaven!
+
+VERRINA.  I am the last of my family.  My wife has long been dead.  This
+daughter is all she left me.  You are witnesses, my friends, how I have
+brought her up.  Can anyone accuse me of neglect?
+
+CALCAGNO.  No.  Your daughter is a bright example to her sex.
+
+VERRINA.  I am old, my friends.  On this one daughter all my hopes were
+placed.  Should I lose her, my race becomes extinct.  (After a pause,
+with a solemn voice).  I have lost her.  My family is dishonored.
+
+SACCO and CALCAGNO.  Forbid it, heaven!  (BERTHA on the couch, appears
+much affected.)
+
+VERRINA.  No.  Despair not, daughter!  These men are just and brave.  If
+they feel thy wrongs they will expiate them with blood.  Be not
+astonished, friends!  He who tramples upon Genoa may easily overcome a
+helpless female.
+
+SACCO and CALCAGNO (starting up with emotion).  Gianettino Doria!
+
+BERTHA (with a shriek, seeing BOURGOGNINO enter).  Cover me, walls,
+beneath your ruins!  My Scipio!
+
+
+
+SCENE XII.
+
+     BOURGOGNINO--the former.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (with ardor).  Rejoice, my love!  I bring good tidings.
+Noble Verrina, my heaven now depends upon a word from you.  I have long
+loved your daughter, but never dared to ask her hand, because my whole
+fortune was intrusted to the treacherous sea.  My ships have just now
+reached the harbor laden with valuable cargoes.  Now I am rich.  Bestow
+your Bertha on me--I will make her happy.  (BERTHA hides her face--a
+profound pause.)
+
+VERRINA.  What, youth!  Wouldst thou mix thy heart's pure tide with a
+polluted stream?
+
+BOURGOGNINO (clasps his hand to his sword, but suddenly draws it back).
+'Twas her father said it.
+
+VERRINA.  No--every rascal in Italy will say it.  Are you contented with
+the leavings of other men's repasts?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Old man, do not make me desperate.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Bourgognino! he speaks the truth.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (enraged, rushing towards BERTHA).  The truth?  Has the girl
+then mocked me?
+
+CALCAGNO.  No! no!  Bourgognino.  The girl is spotless as an angel.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (astonished).  By my soul's happiness, I comprehend it not!
+Spotless, yet dishonored!  They look in silence on each other.  Some
+horrid crime hangs on their trembling tongues.  I conjure you, friends,
+mock not thus my reason.  Is she pure?  Is she truly so?  Who answers for
+her?
+
+VERRINA.  My child is guiltless.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  What!  Violence!  (Snatches the sword from the ground.)  Be
+all the sins of earth upon my bead if I avenge her not!  Where is the
+spoiler?
+
+VERRINA.  Seek him in the plunderer of Genoa! (BOURGOGNINO struck with
+astonishment--VERRINA walks up and down the room in deep thought, then
+stops.)  If rightly I can trace thy counsels, O eternal Providence! it is
+thy will to make my daughter the instrument of Genoa's deliverance.
+(Approaching her slowly, takes the mourning crape from his arm, and
+proceeds in a solemn manner.)  Before the heart's blood of Doria shall
+wash away this foul stain from thy honor no beam of daylight shall shine
+upon these cheeks.  Till then (throwing the crape over her) be blind!  (A
+pause--the rest look upon him with silent astonishment; he continues
+solemnly, his hand upon BERTHA'S head.)  Cursed be the air that shall
+breathe on thee!  Cursed the sleep that shall refresh thee!  Cursed every
+human step that shall come to sooth thy misery!  Down, into the lowest
+vault beneath my house!  There whine, and cry aloud! (pausing with inward
+horror.)  Be thy life painful as the tortures of the writhing worm--
+agonizing as the stubborn conflict between existence and annihilation.
+This curse lie on thee till Gianettino shall have heaved forth his dying
+breath.  If he escape his punishment, then mayest thou drag thy load of
+misery throughout the endless circle of eternity!
+
+     [A deep silence--horror is marked on the countenances of all
+     present.  VERRINA casts a scrutinizing look at each of them.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Inhuman father!  What is it thou hast done?  Why pour forth
+this horrible and monstrous curse against thy guiltless daughter?
+
+VERRINA.  Youth, thou say'st true!--it is most horrible.  Now who among
+you will stand forth and prate still of patience and delay?  My
+daughter's fate is linked with that of Genoa.  I sacrifice the affections
+of a father to the duties of a citizen.  Who among us is so much a coward
+as to hesitate in the salvation of his country, when this poor guiltless
+being must pay for his timidity with endless sufferings?  By heavens,
+'twas not a madman's speech!  I have sworn an oath, and till Doria lie in
+the agonies of death I will show no mercy to my child.  No--not though,
+like an executioner, I should invent unheard-of torments for her, or with
+my own hands rend her innocent frame piecemeal on the barbarous rack.
+You shudder--you stare at me with ghastly faces.  Once more, Scipio--I
+keep her as a hostage for the tyrant's death.  Upon this precious thread
+do I suspend thy duty, my own, and yours (to SACCO and CALCAGNO).  The
+tyrant of Genoa falls, or Bertha must despair--I retract not.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (throwing himself at BERTHA'S feet).  He shall fall--shall
+fall a victim to Genoa.  I will as surely sheathe this sword in Doria's
+heart as upon thy lips I will imprint the bridal kiss.  (Rises.)
+
+VERRINA.  Ye couple, the first that ever owed their union to the Furies,
+join hands!  Thou wilt sheathe thy sword in Doria's heart?  Take her! she
+is thine!
+
+CALCAGNO (kneeling).  Here kneels another citizen of Genoa and lays his
+faithful sword before the feet of innocence.  As surely may Calcagno find
+the way to heaven as this steel shall find its way to Gianettino's heart!
+(Rises.)
+
+SACCO (kneeling).  Last, but not less determined, Raffaelle Sacco kneels.
+If this bright steel unlock not the prison doors of Bertha, mayest thou,
+my Saviour, shut thine ear against my dying prayers!  (Rises.)
+
+VERRINA (with a calm look).  Through me Genoa thanks you.  Now go, my
+daughter; rejoice to be the mighty sacrifice for thy country!
+
+BOURGOGNINO (embracing her as she is departing).  Go! confide in God--and
+Bourgognino.  The same day shall give freedom to Bertha and to Genoa.
+
+                                               [BERTHA retires.
+
+
+
+SCENE XIII.
+
+     The former--without BERTHA.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Genoese, before we take another step, one word----
+
+VERRINA.  I guess what you would say.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Will four patriots alone be sufficient to destroy this mighty
+hydra?  Shall we not stir up the people to rebellion, or draw the nobles
+in to join our party?
+
+VERRINA.  I understand you.  Now hear my advice; I have long engaged a
+painter who has been exerting all his skill to paint the fall of Appius
+Claudius.  Fiesco is an adorer of the arts, and soon warmed by ennobling
+scenes.  We will send this picture to his house, and will be present when
+he contemplates it.  Perhaps the sight may rouse his dormant spirit.
+Perhaps----
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  No more of him.  Increase the danger, not the sharers in
+it.  So valor bids.  Long have I felt a something within my breast that
+nothing would appease.  What 'twas now bursts upon me (springing up with
+enthusiasm); 'twas a tyrant!
+
+                                          [The scene closes.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+SCENE I.--An Ante-chamber in the Palace of FIESCO.
+
+     LEONORA and ARABELLA.
+
+ARABELLA.  No, no, you were mistaken: your eyes were blinded by jealousy.
+
+LEONORA.  It was Julia to the life.  Seek not to persuade me otherwise.
+My picture was suspended by a sky-blue ribbon: this was flame-colored.
+My doom is fixed irrevocably.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+     The former and JULIA.
+
+JULIA (entering in an affected manner).  The Count offered me his palace
+to see the procession to the senate-house.  The time will be tedious.
+You will entertain me, madam, while the chocolate is preparing.
+
+     [ARABELLA goes out, and returns soon afterwards.
+
+LEONORA.  Do you wish that I should invite company to meet you?
+
+JULIA.  Ridiculous!  As if I should come hither in search of company.
+You will amuse me, madam (walking up and down, and admiring herself ), if
+you are able, madam.  At any rate I shall lose nothing.
+
+ARABELLA (sarcastically).  Your splendid dress alone will be the loser.
+Only think how cruel it is to deprive the eager eyes of our young beaux
+of such a treat!  Ah! and the glitter of your sparkling jewels on which
+it almost wounds the sight to look.  Good heavens!  You seem to have
+plundered the whole ocean of its pearls.
+
+JULIA (before a glass).  You are not accustomed to such things, miss!
+But hark ye, miss! pray has your mistress also hired your tongue?  Madam,
+'tis fine, indeed, to permit your domestics thus to address your guests.
+
+LEONORA.  'Tis my misfortune, signora, that my want of spirits prevents
+me from enjoying the pleasure of your company.
+
+JULIA.  An ugly fault that, to be dull and spiritless.  Be active,
+sprightly, witty!  Yours is not the way to attach your husband to you.
+
+LEONORA.  I know but one way, Countess.  Let yours ever be the
+sympathetic medium.
+
+JULIA (pretending not to mind her).  How you dress, madam!  For shame!
+Pay more attention to your personal appearance!  Have recourse to art
+where nature has been unkind.  Put a little paint on those cheeks, which
+look so pale with spleen.  Poor creature!  Your puny face will never find
+a bidder.
+
+LEONORA (in a lively manner to ARABELLA).  Congratulate me, girl.  It is
+impossible I can have lost my Fiesco; or, if I have, the loss must be but
+trifling.  (The chocolate is brought, ARABELLA pours it out.)
+
+JULIA.  Do you talk of losing Fiesco?  Good God!  How could you ever
+conceive the ambitious idea of possessing him?  Why, my child, aspire to
+such a height?  A height where you cannot but be seen, and must come into
+comparison with others.  Indeed, my dear, he was a knave or a fool who
+joined you with FIESCO.  (Taking her hand with a look of compassion.)
+Poor soul!  The man who is received in the assemblies of fashionable life
+could never be a suitable match for you.  (She takes a dish of
+chocolate.)
+
+LEONORA (smiling at ARABELLA).  If he were, he would not wish to mix with
+such assemblies.
+
+JULIA.  The Count is handsome, fashionable, elegant.  He is so fortunate
+as to have formed connections with people of rank.  He is lively and
+high-spirited.  Now, when he severs himself from these circles of
+elegance and refinement, and returns home warm with their impressions,
+what does he meet?  His wife receives him with a commonplace tenderness;
+damps his fire with an insipid, chilling kiss, and measures out her
+attentions to him with a niggardly economy.  Poor husband!  Here, a
+blooming beauty smiles upon him--there he is nauseated by a peevish
+sensibility.  Signora, signora, for God's sake consider, if he have not
+lost his understanding, which will he choose?
+
+LEONORA (offering her a cup of chocolate).  You, madam--if he have
+lost it.
+
+JULIA.  Good!  This sting shall return into your own bosom.  Tremble for
+your mockery!  But before you tremble--blush!
+
+LEONORA.  Do you then know what it is to blush, signora?  But why not?
+'Tis a toilet trick.
+
+JULIA.  Oh, see!  This poor creature must be provoked if one would draw
+from her a spark of wit.  Well--let it pass this time.  Madam, you were
+bitter.  Give me your hand in token of reconciliation.
+
+LEONORA (offering her hand with a significant look).  Countess, my anger
+ne'er shall trouble you.
+
+JULIA (offering her hand).  Generous, indeed!  Yet may I not be so, too?
+(Maliciously.)  Countess, do you not think I must love that person whose
+image I bear constantly about me?
+
+LEONORA (blushing and confused).  What do you say?  Let me hope the
+conclusion is too hasty.
+
+JULIA.  I think so, too.  The heart waits not the guidance of the senses
+--real sentiment needs no breastwork of outward ornament.
+
+LEONORA.  Heavens!  Where did you learn such a truth?
+
+JULIA.  'Twas in mere compassion that I spoke it; for observe, madam, the
+reverse is no less certain.  Such is Fiesco's love for you.  (Gives her
+the picture, laughing maliciously.)
+
+LEONORA (with extreme indignation).  My picture!  Given to you!  (Throws
+herself into a chair, much affected.)  Cruel, Fiesco!
+
+JULIA.  Have I retaliated?  Have I?  Now, madam, have you any other sting
+to wound me with?  (Goes to side scene.)  My carriage!  My object is
+gained.  (To LEONORA, patting her cheek.)  Be comforted, my dear; he gave
+me the picture in a fit of madness.
+
+                                          [Exeunt JULIA and ARABELLA.
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+     LEONORA, CALCAGNO entering.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Did not the Countess Imperiali depart in anger?  You, too, so
+excited, madam?
+
+LEONORA (violently agitated.)  No!  This is unheard-of cruelty.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Heaven and earth!  Do I behold you in tears?
+
+LEONORA.  Thou art a friend of my inhuman--Away, leave my sight!
+
+CALCAGNO.  Whom do you call inhuman?  You affright me----
+
+LEONORA.  My husband.  Is he not so?
+
+CALCAGNO.  What do I hear!
+
+LEONORA.  'Tis but a piece of villany common enough among your sex!
+
+CALCAGNO (grasping her hand with vehemence).  Lady, I have a heart for
+weeping virtue.
+
+LEONORA.  You are a man--your heart is not for me.
+
+CALCAGNO.  For you alone--yours only.  Would that you knew how much, how
+truly yours----
+
+LEONORA.  Man, thou art untrue.  Thy words would be refuted by thy
+actions----
+
+CALCAGNO.  I swear to you----
+
+LEONORA.  A false oath.  Cease!  The perjuries of men are so innumerable
+'twould tire the pen of the recording angel to write them down.  If their
+violated oaths were turned into as many devils they might storm heaven
+itself, and lead away the angels of light as captives.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Nay, madam, your anger makes you unjust.  Is the whole sex to
+answer for the crime of one?
+
+LEONORA.  I tell thee in that one was centred all my affection for the
+sex.  In him I will detest them all.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Countess,--you once bestowed your hand amiss.  Would you again
+make trial, I know one who would deserve it better.
+
+LEONORA.  The limits of creation cannot bound your falsehoods.  I'll hear
+no more.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Oh, that you would retract this cruel sentence in my arms!
+
+LEONORA (with astonishment).  Speak out.  In thy arms!
+
+CALCAGNO.  In my arms, which open themselves to receive a forsaken woman,
+and to console her for the love she has lost.
+
+LEONORA (fixing her eyes on him).  Love?
+
+CALCAGNO (kneeling before her with ardor).  Yes, I have said it.  Love,
+madam!  Life and death hang on your tongue.  If my passion be criminal
+then let the extremes of virtue and vice unite, and heaven and hell be
+joined together in one perdition.
+
+LEONORA (steps back indignantly, with a look of noble disdain).  Ha!
+Hypocrite!  Was that the object of thy false compassion?  This attitude
+at once proclaims thee a traitor to friendship and to love.  Begone
+forever from my eyes!  Detested sex!  Till now I thought the only victim
+of your snares was woman; nor ever suspected that to each other you were
+so false and faithless.
+
+CALCAGNO (rising, confounded).  Countess!
+
+LEONORA.  Was it not enough to break the sacred seal of confidence? but
+even on the unsullied mirror of virtue does this hypocrite breathe
+pestilence, and would seduce my innocence to perjury.
+
+CALCAGNO (hastily).  Perjury, madam, you cannot be guilty of.
+
+LEONORA.  I understand thee--thou thoughtest my wounded pride would plead
+in thy behalf.  (With dignity).  Thou didst not know that she who loves
+Fiesco feels even the pang that rends her heart ennobling.  Begone!
+Fiesco's perfidy will not make Calcagno rise in my esteem--but--will
+lower humanity.                                    [Exit hastily.
+
+CALCAGNO (stands as if thunderstruck, looks after her, then striking his
+forehead).  Fool that I am.                        [Exit.
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+     The MOOR and FIESCO.
+
+FIESCO.  Who was it that just now departed?
+
+MOOR.  The Marquis Calcagno.
+
+FIESCO.  This handkerchief was left upon the sofa.  My wife has been
+here.
+
+MOOR.  I met her this moment in great agitation.
+
+FIESCO.  This handkerchief is moist (puts it in his pocket).  Calcagno
+here?  And Leonora agitated?  This evening thou must learn what has
+happened.
+
+MOOR.  Miss Bella likes to hear that she is fair.  She will inform me.
+
+FIESCO.  Well--thirty hours are past.  Hast thou executed my commission?
+
+MOOR.  To the letter, my lord.
+
+FIESCO (seating himself).  Then tell me how they talk of Doria, and of
+the government.
+
+MOOR.  Oh, most vilely.  The very name of Doria shakes them like an
+ague-fit.  Gianettino is as hateful to them as death itself--there's
+naught but murmuring.  They say the French have been the rats of Genoa,
+the cat Doria has devoured them, and now is going to feast upon the mice.
+
+FIESCO.  That may perhaps be true.  But do they not know of any dog
+against that cat?
+
+MOOR (with an affected carelessness).  The town was murmuring much of a
+certain--poh--why, I have actually forgotten the name.
+
+FIESCO (rising).  Blockhead!  That name is as easy to be remembered as
+'twas difficult to achieve.  Has Genoa more such names than one?
+
+MOOR.  No--it cannot have two Counts of Lavagna.
+
+FIESCO (seating himself).  That is something.  And what do they whisper
+about my gayeties?
+
+MOOR (fixing his eyes upon him).  Hear me, Count of Lavagna!  Genoa must
+think highly of you.  They can not imagine why a descendant of the first
+family--with such talents and genius--full of spirit and popularity--
+master of four millions--his veins enriched with princely blood--a
+nobleman like Fiesco, whom, at the first call, all hearts would fly to
+meet----
+
+FIESCO (turns away contemptuously).  To hear such things from such a
+scoundrel!
+
+MOOR.  Many lamented that the chief of Genoa should slumber over the ruin
+of his country.  And many sneered.  Most men condemned you.  All bewailed
+the state which thus had lost you.  A Jesuit pretended to have smelt out
+the fox that lay disguised in sheep's clothing.
+
+FIESCO.  One fox smells out another.  What say they to my passion for the
+Countess Imperiali?
+
+MOOR.  What I would rather be excused from repeating.
+
+FIESCO.  Out with it--the bolder the more welcome.  What are their
+murmurings?
+
+MOOR.  'Tis not a murmur.  At all the coffee-houses, billiard-tables,
+hotels, and public walks--in the market-place, at the Exchange, they
+proclaim aloud----
+
+FIESCO.  What?  I command thee!
+
+MOOR (retreating).  That you are a fool!
+
+FIESCO.  Well, take this sequin for these tidings.  Now have I put on a
+fool's cap that these Genoese may have wherewith to rack their wits.
+Next I will shave my head, that they may play Merry Andrew to my Clown.
+How did the manufacturers receive my presents?
+
+MOOR (humorously).  Why, Mr. Fool, they looked like poor knaves----
+
+FIESCO.  Fool?  Fellow, art thou mad?
+
+MOOR.  Pardon!  I had a mind for a few more sequins.
+
+FIESCO (laughing, gives him another sequin).  Well.  "Like poor knaves."
+
+MOOR.  Who receive pardon at the very block.  They are yours both soul
+and body.
+
+FIESCO.  I'm glad of it.  They turn the scale among the populace of
+Genoa.
+
+MOOR.  What a scene it was!  Zounds!  I almost acquired a relish for
+benevolence.  They caught me round the neck like madmen.  The very girls
+seemed in love with my black visage, that's as ill-omened as the moon in
+an eclipse.  Gold, thought I, is omnipotent: it makes even a Moor look
+fair.
+
+FIESCO.  That thought was better than the soil which gave it birth.
+These words are favorable; but do they bespeak actions of equal import?
+
+MOOR.  Yes--as the murmuring of the distant thunder foretells the
+approaching storm.  The people lay their heads together--they collect in
+parties--break off their talk whenever a stranger passes by.  Throughout
+Genoa reigns a gloomy silence.  This discontent hangs like a threatening
+tempest over the republic.  Come, wind, then hail and lightning will
+burst forth.
+
+FIESCO.  Hush!--hark!  What is that confused noise?
+
+MOOR (going to the window).  It is the tumult of the crowd returning from
+the senate-house.
+
+FIESCO.  To-day is the election of a procurator.  Order my carriage!  It
+is impossible that the sitting should be over.  I'll go thither.  It is
+impossible it should be over if things went right.  Bring me my sword and
+cloak--where is my golden chain?
+
+MOOR.  Sir, I have stolen and pawned it.
+
+FIESCO.  That I am glad to hear.
+
+MOOR.  But, how!  Are there no more sequins for me?
+
+FIESCO.  No.  You forgot the cloak.
+
+MOOR.  Ah!  I was wrong in pointing out the thief.
+
+FIESCO.  The tumult comes nearer.  Hark!  'Tis not the sound of
+approbation.  Quick!  Unlock the gates; I guess the matter.  Doria has
+been rash.  The state balances upon a needle's point.  There has
+assuredly been some disturbance at the senate-house.
+
+MOOR (at the window).  What's here!  They're coming down the street of
+Balbi--a crowd of many thousands--the halberds glitter--ah, swords too!
+Halloo!  Senators!  They come this way.
+
+FIESCO.  Sedition is on foot.  Hasten amongst them; mention my name;
+persuade them to come hither.  (Exit Moon hastily.)  What reason,
+laboring like a careful ant, with difficulty scrapes together, the wind
+of accident collects in one short moment.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+     FIESCO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO, and ASSERATO, rushing in.
+
+ZIBO.  Count, impute it to our anger that we enter thus unannounced.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  I have been mortally affronted by the duke's nephew in the
+face of the whole senate.
+
+ASSERATO.  Doria has trampled on the golden book of which each noble
+Genoese is a leaf.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Therefore come we hither.  The whole nobility are insulted
+in me; the whole nobility must share my vengeance.  To avenge my own
+honor I should not need assistance.
+
+ZIBO.  The whole nobility are outraged in his person; the whole nobility
+must rise and vent their rage in fire and flames.
+
+ASSERATO.  The rights of the nation are trodden under foot; the liberty
+of the republic has received a deadly blow.
+
+FIESCO.  You raise my expectation to the utmost.
+
+ZIBO.  He was the twenty-ninth among the electing senators, and had drawn
+forth a golden ball to vote for the procurator.  Of the eight-and-twenty
+votes collected, fourteen were for me, and as many for Lomellino.  His
+and Doria's were still wanting----
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Wanting!  I gave my vote for Zibo.  Doria--think of the
+wound inflicted on my honor--Doria----
+
+ASSERATO (interrupting him).  Such a thing was never heard of since the
+sea washed the walls of Genoa.
+
+ZENTURIONE (continues, with great heat).  Doria drew a sword, which he
+had concealed under a scarlet cloak--stuck it through my vote--called to
+the assembly----
+
+ZIBO.  "Senators, 'tis good-for-nothing--'tis pierced through.  Lomellino
+is procurator."
+
+ZENTURIONE.  "Lomellino is procurator."  And threw his sword upon the
+table.
+
+ASSERATO.  And called out, "'Tis good-for-nothing!" and threw his sword
+upon the table.
+
+FIESCO (after a pause).  On what are you resolved?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  The republic is wounded to its very heart.  On what are we
+resolved?
+
+FIESCO.  Zenturione, rushes may yield to a breath, but the oak requires a
+storm.  I ask, on what are you resolved?
+
+ZIBO.  Methinks the question shall be, on what does Genoa resolve?
+
+FIESCO.  Genoa!  Genoa! name it not.  'Tis rotten, and crumbles wherever
+you touch it.  Do you reckon on the nobles?  Perhaps because they put on
+grave faces, look mysterious when state affairs are mentioned--talk not
+of them!  Their heroism is stifled among the bales of their Levantine
+merchandise.  Their souls hover anxiously over their India fleet.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Learn to esteem our nobles more justly.  Scarcely was
+Doria's haughty action done when hundreds of them rushed into the street
+tearing their garments.  The senate was dispersed----
+
+FIESCO (sarcastically).  Like frighted pigeons when the vulture darts
+upon the dovecot.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  No! (fiercely)--like powder-barrels when a match falls on
+them.
+
+ZIBO.  The people are enraged.  What may we not expect from the fury of
+the wounded boar!
+
+FIESCO (laughing).  The blind, unwieldy monster, which at first rattles
+its heavy bones, threatening, with gaping jaws, to devour the high and
+low, the near and distant, at last stumbles at a thread--Genoese, 'tis in
+vain!  The epoch of the masters of the sea is past--Genoa is sunk beneath
+the splendor of its name.  Its state is such as once was Rome's, when,
+like a tennis-ball, she leaped into the racket of young Octavius.  Genoa
+can be free no longer; Genoa must be fostered by a monarch; therefore do
+homage to the mad-brained Gianettino.
+
+ZENTURIONE (vehemently).  Yes, when the contending elements are
+reconciled, and when the north pole meets the south.  Come, friends.
+
+FIESCO.  Stay! stay!  Upon what project are you brooding, Zibo?
+
+ZIBO.  On nothing.
+
+FIESCO (leading them to a statue).  Look at this figure.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  It is the Florentine Venus.  Why point to her?
+
+FIESCO.  At least she pleases you.
+
+ZIBO.  Undoubtedly, or we should be but poor Italians.  But why this
+question now?
+
+FIESCO.  Travel through all the countries of the globe, and among the
+most beautiful of living female models, seek one which shall unite all
+the charms of this ideal Venus.
+
+ZIBO.  And then take for our reward?
+
+FIESCO.  Then your search will have convicted fancy of deceit----
+
+ZENTURIONE (impatiently).  And what shall we have gained?
+
+FIESCO.  Gained?  The decision of the long-protracted contest between art
+and nature.
+
+ZENTURIONE (eagerly).  And what then?
+
+FIESCO.  Then, then?  (Laughing.)  Then your attention will have been
+diverted from observing the fall of Genoa's liberty.
+
+                                             [Exeunt all but FIESCO.
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+     FIESCO alone.  (The noise without increases.)
+
+FIESCO.  'Tis well! 'tis well.  The straw of the republic has caught
+fire--the flames have seized already on palaces and towers.  Let it go
+on!  May the blaze be general!  Let the tempestuous wind spread wide the
+conflagration!
+
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+     FIESCO, MOOR, entering in haste.
+
+MOOR.  Crowds upon crowds!
+
+FIESCO.  Throw open wide the gates.  Let all that choose enter.
+
+MOOR.  Republicans!  Republicans, indeed!  They drag their liberty along,
+panting, like beasts of burden, beneath the yoke of their magnificent
+nobility.
+
+FIESCO.  Fools! who believe that Fiesco of Lavagna will carry on what
+Fiesco of Lavagna did not begin.  The tumult comes opportunely; but the
+conspiracy must be my own.  They are rushing hither----
+
+MOOR (going out).  Halloo! halloo!  You are very obligingly battering the
+house down.  (The people rush in; the doors broken down.)
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+     FIESCO, twelve ARTISANS.
+
+ALL ARTISANS.  Vengeance on Doria!  Vengeance on Gianettino!
+
+FIESCO.  Gently! gently! my countrymen!  Your waiting thus upon me
+bespeaks the warmth of your affection; but I pray you have mercy on my
+ears!
+
+ALL (with impetuosity).  Down with the Dorias!  Down with them, uncle and
+nephew!
+
+FIESCO (counting them with a smile).  Twelve is a mighty force!
+
+SOME OF THEM.  These Dorias must away! the state must be reformed!
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  To throw our magistrates down stairs!  The magistrates!
+
+2D ARTISAN.  Think, Count Lavagna--down stairs! because they opposed them
+in the election----
+
+ALL.  It must not be endured!  it shall not be endured!
+
+3D ARTISAN.  To take a sword into the senate!
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  A sword?--the sign of war--into the chamber of peace!
+
+2D ARTISAN.  To come into the senate dressed in scarlet!  Not like the
+other senators, in black.
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  To drive through our capital with eight horses!
+
+ALL.  A tyrant!  A traitor to the country and the government!
+
+2D ARTISAN.  To hire two hundred Germans from the Emperor for his
+body-guard.
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  To bring foreigners in arms against the natives--Germans
+against Italians--soldiers against laws!
+
+ALL.  'Tis treason!--'tis a plot against the liberty of Genoa!
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  To have the arms of the republic painted on his coach!
+
+2D ARTISAN.  The statue of Andreas placed in the centre of the
+senate-house!
+
+ALL.  Dash them to pieces--both the statue and the man----
+
+FIESCO.  Citizens of Genoa, why this to me?
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  You should not suffer it.  You should keep him down.
+
+2D ARTISAN.  You are a wise man, and should not suffer it.  You should
+direct us by your counsel.
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  You are a better nobleman.  You should chastise them and
+curb their insolence.
+
+FIESCO.  Your confidence is flattering.  Can I merit it by deeds?
+
+ALL (clamorously).  Strike!  Down with the tyrant!  Make us free!
+
+FIESCO.  But--will you hear me?
+
+SOME.  Speak, Count!
+
+
+FIESCO (seating himself).  Genoese,--the empire of the animals was once
+thrown into confusion; parties struggled with parties, till at last a
+bull-dog seized the throne.  He, accustomed to drive the cattle to the
+knife of the butcher, prowled in savage manner through the state.  He
+barked, he bit, and gnawed his subjects' bones.  The nation murmured; the
+boldest joined together, and killed the princely monster.  Now a general
+assembly was held to decide upon the important question, which form of
+government was best.  There were three different opinions.  Genoese, what
+would be your decision?
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  For the people--everything in common----
+
+FIESCO.  The people gained it.  The government was democratical; each
+citizen had a vote, and everything was submitted to a majority.  But a
+few weeks passed ere man declared war against the new republic.  The
+state assembled.  Horse, lion, tiger, bear, elephant, and rhinoceros,
+stepped forth, and roared aloud, "To arms!"  The rest were called upon to
+vote.  The lamb, the hare, the stag, the ass, the tribe of insects, with
+the birds and timid fishes, cried for peace.  See, Genoese!  The cowards
+were more numerous than the brave; the foolish than the wise.  Numbers
+prevailed--the beasts laid down their arms, and man exacted contributions
+from them.  The democratic system was abandoned.  Genoese, what would you
+next have chosen?
+
+1ST AND 2D ARTISANS.  A select government!
+
+FIESCO.  That was adopted.  The business of the state was all arranged
+in separate departments.  Wolves were the financiers, foxes their
+secretaries, doves presided in the criminal courts, and tigers in
+the courts of equity.  The laws of chastity were regulated by goats;
+hares were the soldiers; lions and elephants had charge of the baggage.
+The ass was the ambassador of the empire, and the mole appointed
+inspector-general of the whole administration.  Genoese, what think you
+of this wise distribution?  Those whom the wolf did not devour the fox
+pillaged; whoever escaped from him was knocked down by the ass.  The
+tiger murdered innocents, whilst robbers and assassins were pardoned by
+the doves.  And at the last, when each had laid down his office, the mole
+declared that all were well discharged.  The animals rebelled.  "Let us,"
+they cried unanimously, "choose a monarch endowed with strength and
+skill, and who has only one stomach to appease."  And to one chief they
+all did homage.  Genoese--to one---but (rising and advancing
+majestically)--that one was--the lion!
+
+ALL (shouting, and throwing up their hats).  Bravo!  Bravo!  Well
+managed, Count Lavagna!
+
+1ST ARTISAN.  And Genoa shall follow that example.  Genoa, also, has its
+lion!
+
+FIESCO.  Tell me not of that lion; but go home and think upon him.  (The
+ARTISANS depart tumultuously.)  It is as I would have it.  The people and
+the senate are alike enraged against Doria; the people and the senate
+alike approve FIESCO.  Hassan! Hassan!  I must take advantage of this
+favorable gale.  Hoa! Hassan! Hassan!  I must augment their hatred--
+improve my influence.  Hassan!  Come hither!  Whoreson of hell, come
+hither!
+
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+     FIESCO, MOOR entering hastily.
+
+MOOR.  My feet are quite on fire with running.  What is the matter now?
+
+FIESCO.  Hear my commands!
+
+MOOR (submissively).  Whither shall I run first?
+
+FIESCO.  I will excuse thy running this time.  Thou shalt be dragged.
+Prepare thyself.  I intend to publish thy attempted assassination, and
+deliver thee up in chains to the criminal tribunal.
+
+MOOR (taking several steps backward).  Sir!--that's contrary to
+agreement.
+
+FIESCO.  Be not alarmed.  'Tis but a farce.  At this moment 'tis of the
+utmost consequence that Gianettino's attempt against my life should be
+made public.  Thou shalt be tried before the criminal tribunal.
+
+MOOR.  Must I confess it, or deny?
+
+FIESCO.  Deny.  They will put thee to the torture.  Thou must hold out
+against the first degree.  This, by the by, will serve to expiate thy
+real crime.  At the second thou mayest confess.
+
+MOOR (shaking his head with a look of apprehension).  The devil is a sly
+rogue.  Their worships might perhaps desire my company a little longer
+than I should wish; and, for sheer farce sake, I may be broken on the
+wheel.
+
+FIESCO.  Thou shalt escape unhurt, I give thee my honor as a nobleman.  I
+shall request, as satisfaction, to have thy punishment left to me, and
+then pardon thee before the whole republic.
+
+MOOR.  Well--I agree to it.  They will draw out my joints a little; but
+that will only make them the more flexible.
+
+FIESCO.  Then scratch this arm with thy dagger, till the blood flows.  I
+will pretend that I have just now seized thee in fact.  'Tis well.
+(Hallooing violently).  Murder!  Murder!  Guard the passages!  Make fast
+the gates!  (He drags the MOOR out by the throat; servants run across the
+stage hastily.)
+
+
+
+SCENE X.
+
+     LEONORA and ROSA enter hastily, alarmed.
+
+LEONORA.  Murder! they cried--murder!--The noise came this way.
+
+ROSA.  Surely 'twas but a common tumult, such as happens every day in
+Genoa.
+
+LEONORA.  They cried murder! and I distinctly heard Fiesco's name.  In
+vain you would deceive me.  My heart discovers what is concealed from my
+eyes.  Quick!  Hasten after them.  See!  Tell me whither they carry him.
+
+ROSA.  Collect your spirits, madam.  Arabella is gone.
+
+LEONORA.  Arabella will catch his dying look.  The happy Arabella!
+Wretch that I am? 'twas I that murdered him.  If I could have engaged
+his heart he would not have plunged into the world, nor rushed upon the
+daggers of assassins.  Ah! she comes.  Away!  Oh, Arabella, speak not
+to me!
+
+
+
+SCENE XI.
+
+     The former, ARABELLA.
+
+ARABELLA.  The Count is living and unhurt.  I saw him gallop through the
+city.  Never did he appear more handsome.  The steed that bore him
+pranced haughtily along, and with its proud hoof kept the thronging
+multitude at a distance from its princely rider.  He saw me as I passed,
+and with a gracious smile, pointing thither, thrice kissed his hand to
+me.  (Archly.)  What can I do with those kisses, madam?
+
+LEONORA (highly pleased).  Idle prattler!  Restore them to him.
+
+ROSA.  See now, how soon your color has returned!
+
+LEONORA.  His heart he is ready to fling at every wench, whilst I sigh in
+vain for a look!  Oh woman! woman!
+
+                                            [Exeunt.
+
+
+
+SCENE XII.--The Palace of ANDREAS.
+
+     GIANETTINO and LOMELLINO enter hastily.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Let them roar for their liberty as a lioness for her young.
+I am resolved.
+
+LOMELLINO.  But--most gracious prince!
+
+GIANETTINO.  Away to hell with thy buts, thou three-hours procurator!  I
+will not yield a hair's breadth?  Let Genoa's towers shake their heads,
+and the hoarse sea bellow No to it.  I value not the rebellious
+multitude!
+
+LOMELLINO.  The people are indeed the fuel; but the nobility fan the
+flame.  The whole republic is in a ferment, people and patricians.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Then will I stand upon the mount like Nero, and regale
+myself with looking upon the paltry flames.
+
+LOMELLINO.  Till the whole mass of sedition falls into the hands of some
+enterprising leader, who will take advantage of the general devastation.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Poh! Poh!  I know but one who might be dangerous, and he is
+taken care of.
+
+LOMELLINO.  His highness comes.
+
+     Enter ANDREAS--(both bow respectfully).
+
+ANDREAS.  Signor Lomellino, my niece wishes to take the air.
+
+LOMELLINO.  I shall have the honor of attending her.
+
+                                               [Exit LOMELLINO.
+
+
+
+SCENE XIII.
+
+     ANDREAS and GIANETTINO.
+
+ANDREAS.  Nephew, I am much displeased with you.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Grant me a hearing, most gracious uncle!
+
+ANDREAS.  That would I grant to the meanest beggar in Genoa if he were
+worthy of it.  Never to a villain, though he were my nephew.  It is
+sufficient favor that I address thee as an uncle, not as a sovereign!
+
+GIANETTINO.  One word only, gracious sir!
+
+ANDREAS.  Hear first what thou hast done; then answer me.  Thou hast
+pulled down an edifice which I have labored for fifty years to raise--
+that which should have been thy uncle's mausoleum, his only pyramid--the
+affections of his countrymen.  This rashness Andreas pardons thee----
+
+GIANETTINO.  My uncle and my sovereign----
+
+ANDREAS.  Interrupt me not.  Thou hast injured that most glorious work of
+mine, the constitution, which I brought down from heaven for Genoa, which
+cost me so many sleepless nights, so many dangers, and so much blood.
+Before all Genoa thou hast cast a stain upon my honor, in violating my
+institutions.  Who will hold them sacred if my own blood despise them?
+This folly thy uncle pardons thee.
+
+GIANETTINO (offended).  Sir, you educated me to be the Duke of Genoa.
+
+ANDREAS.  Be silent.  Thou art a traitor to the state, and hast attacked
+its vital principle.  Mark me, boy!  That principle is--subordination.
+Because the shepherd retired in the evening from his labor, thoughtest
+thou the flock deserted?  Because Andreas' head is white with age,
+thoughtest thou, like a villain, to trample on the laws?
+
+GIANETTINO (insolently).  Peace, Duke!  In my veins also boils the blood
+of that Andreas before whom France has trembled.
+
+ANDREAS.  Be silent!  I command thee.  When I speak the sea itself is
+wont to pay attention.  Thou hast insulted the majesty of justice in its
+very sanctuary.  Rebel! dost thou know what punishment that crime
+demands?  Now answer!  (GIANETTINO appears struck, and fixes his eyes on
+the ground without speaking).  Wretched Andreas!  In thy own heart hast
+thou fostered the canker of thy renown.  I built up a fabric for Genoa
+which should mock the lapse of ages, and am myself the first to cast a
+firebrand into it.  Thank my gray head, which would be laid in the grave
+by a relation's hand--thank my unjust love that, on the scaffold, I pour
+not out thy rebellious blood to satisfy the violated laws.
+
+                                                   [Exit.
+
+
+
+SCENE XIV.
+
+     GIANETTINO looks after the DUKE, speechless with anger, LOMELLINO
+     entering, breathless and terrified.
+
+LOMELLINO.  What have I seen!  What have I heard!  Fly, prince!  Fly
+quickly!  All is lost.
+
+GIANETTINO (with inward rage).  What was there to lose?
+
+LOMELLINO.  Genoa, prince: I come from the market-place.  The people were
+crowding round a Moor who was dragged along bound with cords.  The Count
+of Lavagna, with above three hundred nobles, followed to the criminal
+court.  The Moor had been employed to assassinate Fiesco, and in the
+attempt was seized.
+
+GIANETTINO (stamping violently on the ground).  What, are all the devils
+of hell let loose at once?
+
+LOMELLINO.  They questioned him most strictly concerning his employer.
+The Moor confessed nothing.  They tried the first degree of torture.
+Still he confessed nothing.  They put him to the second.  Then he spoke--
+he spoke.  My gracious lord, how could you trust your honor to such a
+villain?
+
+GIANETTINO (fiercely).  Ask me no question?
+
+LOMELLINO.  Hear the rest!  Scarcely was the word Doria uttered--I would
+sooner have seen my name inscribed in the infernal register than have
+heard yours thus mentioned--scarcely was it uttered when Fiesco showed
+himself to the people.  You know the man--how winningly he pleads--how he
+is wont to play the usurer with the hearts of the multitude.  The whole
+assembly hung upon his looks, breathless with indignation.  He spoke
+little, but bared his bleeding arm.  The crowd contended for the falling
+drops as if for sacred relics.  The Moor was given up to his disposal--
+and Fiesco--a mortal blow for us!  Fiesco pardoned him.  Now the confined
+anger of the people burst forth in one tumultuous clamor.  Each breath
+annihilated a Doria, and Fiesco was borne home amidst a thousand joyful
+acclamations.
+
+GIANETTINO (with a ferocious laugh).  Let the flood of tumult swell up to
+my very throat.  The emperor!  That sound alone shall strike them to the
+earth, so that not a murmur shall be heard in Genoa.
+
+LOMELLINO.  Bohemia is far from hence.  If the emperor come speedily he
+may perhaps be present at your funeral feast.
+
+GIANETTINO (drawing forth a letter with a great seal).  'Tis fortunate
+that he is here already.  Art thou surprised at this?  And didst thou
+think me mad enough to brave the fury of enraged republicans had I not
+known they were betrayed and sold?
+
+LOMELLINO (with astonishment).  I know not what to think!
+
+GIANETTINO.  But I have thought of something which thou couldst not know.
+My plan is formed.  Ere two days are past twelve senators must fall.
+Doria becomes sovereign, and the Emperor Charles protects him.  Thou
+seemest astonished----
+
+LOMELLINO.  Twelve senators!  My heart is too narrow to comprehend a
+twelvefold murder.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Fool that thou art!  The throne will absolve the deed.  I
+consulted with the ministers of Charles on the strong party which France
+still has in Genoa, and by which she might a second time seize on it
+unless they should be rooted out.  This worked upon the emperor--he
+approved my projects--and thou shalt write what I will dictate to thee.
+
+LOMELLINO.  I know not yet your purpose.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Sit down and write----
+
+LOMELLINO.  But what am I to write?  (Seats himself.)
+
+GIANETTINO.  The names of the twelve candidates for death--Francis
+Zenturione.
+
+LOMELLINO (writes).  In gratitude for his vote he leads the funeral
+procession.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Cornelio Calva.
+
+LOMELLINO.  Calva.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Michael Zibo.
+
+LOMELLINO.  To cool him after his disappointment in the procuratorship.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Thomas Asserato and his three brothers.  (LOMELLINO stops.)
+
+GIANETTINO (forcibly).  And his three brothers----
+
+LOMELLINO (writes).  Go on.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Fiesco of Lavagna.
+
+LOMELLINO.  Have a care!  Have a care!  That black stone will yet prove
+fatal to you.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Scipio Bourgognino.
+
+LOMELLINO.  He may celebrate elsewhere his wedding----
+
+GIANETTINO.  Ay, where I shall be director of the nuptials.  Raphael
+Sacco.
+
+LOMELLINO.  I should intercede for his life until he shall have paid my
+five thousand crowns.  (Writes.)  Death strikes the balance.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Vincent Calcagno.
+
+LOMELLINO.  Calcagno.  The twelfth I write at my own risk, unless our
+mortal enemy be overlooked.
+
+GIANETTINO.  The end crowns all--Joseph Verrina.
+
+LOMELLINO.  He is the very head of the viper that threatens us.  (Rises
+and presents the paper to GIANETTINO.)  Two days hence death shall make a
+splendid feast, at which twelve of the chief of Genoa's nobles will be
+present.
+
+GIANETTINO (signs the paper).  'Tis done.  Two days hence will be the
+ducal election.  When the senate shall be assembled for that purpose
+these twelve shall, on the signal of a handkerchief, be suddenly laid
+low.  My two hundred Germans will have surrounded the senate-house.  At
+that moment I enter and claim homage as the Duke.  (Rings the bell.)
+
+LOMELLINO.  And what of Andreas?
+
+GIANETTINO (contemptuously).  He is an old man.  (Enter a servant.)  If
+the Duke should ask for me say I am gone to mass.  (Exit servant.)  I
+must conceal the devil that's within beneath a saintly garb.
+
+LOMELLINO.  But, my lord, the paper?
+
+GIANETTINO.  Take it, and let it be circulated among our party.  This
+letter must be dispatched by express to Levanto.  'Tis to inform Spinola
+of our intended plan, and bid him reach the capital early in the morning.
+(Going.)
+
+LOMELLINO.  Stop, prince.  There is an error in our calculation.  Fiesco
+does not attend the senate.
+
+GIANETTINO (looking back).  Genoa will easily supply one more assassin.
+I'll see to that.
+
+                                              [Exeunt different ways.
+
+
+
+SCENE XV.-An Ante-chamber in FIESCO'S Palace.
+
+     FIESCO, with papers before him, and MOOR.
+
+FIESCO.  Four galleys have entered the harbor, dost say?
+
+MOOR.  Yes, they're at anchor in the port.
+
+FIESCO.  That's well.  Whence are these expresses?
+
+MOOR.  From Rome, Placentia, and France.
+
+FIESCO (opens the letters and runs over them).  Welcome! welcome news!
+(In high spirits.)  Let the messengers be treated in a princely manner.
+
+MOOR.  Hem!  (Going.).
+
+FIESCO.  Stop, stop!  Here's work for thee in plenty.
+
+MOOR.  Command me.  I am ready to act the setter or the bloodhound.
+
+FIESCO.  I only want at present the voice of the decoy-bird.  To-morrow
+early two thousand men will enter the city in disguise to engage in my
+service.  Distribute thy assistants at the gates, and let them keep a
+watchful eye upon the strangers that arrive.  Some will be dressed like
+pilgrims on their journey to Loretto, others like mendicant friars, or
+Savoyards, or actors; some as peddlers and musicians; but the most as
+disbanded soldiers coming to seek a livelihood in Genoa.  Let every one
+be asked where he takes up his lodging.  If he answer at the Golden
+Snake, let him be treated as a friend and shown my habitation.  But
+remember, sirrah, I rely upon thy prudence.
+
+MOOR.  Sir, as securely as upon my knavery.  If a single head escape me,
+pluck out my eyes and shoot at sparrows with them.  (Going.)
+
+FIESCO.  Stop!  I've another piece of business for thee.  The arrival of
+the galleys will excite suspicion in the city.  If any one inquire of
+thee about them, say thou hast heard it rumored that thy master intends
+to cruise against the Turks.  Dost thou understand me?
+
+MOOR.  Yes, yes--the beards of the Mussulmen at the masthead, but the
+devil for a steersman.  (Going.)
+
+FIESCO.  Gently--one more precaution.  Gianettino has new reasons to hate
+me and lay snares against my life.  Go--sound the fellows of thy trade;
+see if thou canst not smell out some plot on foot against me.  Visit the
+brothels--Doria often frequents them.  The secrets of the cabinet are
+sometimes lodged within the folds of a petticoat.  Promise these ladies
+golden customers.  Promise them thy master.  Let nothing be too sacred to
+be used in gaining the desired information.
+
+MOOR.  Ha! luckily I am acquainted with one Diana Buononi, whom I have
+served above a year as procurer.  The other day I saw the Signor
+Lomellino coming out of her house.
+
+FIESCO.  That suits my purpose well.  This very Lomellino is the key to
+all Doria's follies.  To-morrow thou shalt go thither.  Perhaps he is
+to-night the Endymion of this chaste Diana.
+
+MOOR.  One more question, my lord.  Suppose the people ask me--and that
+they will, I'll pawn my soul upon it--suppose they ask, "What does Fiesco
+think of Genoa?"  Would you still wear the mask?--or--how shall I answer
+them?
+
+FIESCO.  Answer?  Hum!  The fruit is ripe.  The pains of labor announce
+the approaching birth.  Answer that Genoa lies upon the block, and that
+thy master's name is--John Louis Fiesco----
+
+MOOR (with an air of satisfaction).  That, by my rogue's honor, shall be
+done to your heart's content.  Now be wide awake, friend Hassan!  First
+to a tavern!  My feet have work enough cut out for them.  I must coax my
+stomach to intercede with my legs.  (Hastening away--returns.)  Oh,
+apropos!  My chattering made me almost forget one circumstance.  You
+wished to know what passed between Calcagno and your wife.  A refusal,
+sir--that's all.
+
+                                            [Runs off.
+
+
+
+SCENE XVI.
+
+     FIESCO alone.
+
+FIESCO.  I pity thee, Calcagno.  Didst thou think I should, upon so
+delicate a point, have been thus careless had I not relied in perfect
+security on my wife's virtue and my own deserts?  Yet I welcome this
+passion.  Thou art a good soldier.  It shall procure me thy arm for the
+destruction of Doria.  (Walking up and down.)  Now, Doria, to the scene
+of action!  All the machines are ready for the grand attempt--the
+instruments are tuned for the terrific concert.  Naught is wanting but to
+throw off the mask, and show Fiesco to the patriots of Genoa.  (Some
+persons are heard approaching.)  Ha!  Visitors!  Who can be coming to
+disturb me?
+
+
+
+SCENE XVII.
+
+     FIESCO, VERRINA, ROMANO, with a picture; SACCO, BOURGOGNINO,
+     CALCAGNO.
+
+FIESCO (receiving them with great affability).  Welcome, my worthy
+friends!  What important business brings you all hither?  Are you, too,
+come, my dear brother, Verrina?  I should almost have forgotten you, had
+you not oftener been present to my thoughts than to my sight.  I think I
+have not seen you since my last entertainment.
+
+VERRINA.  Do not count the hours, Fiesco!  Heavy burdens have in that
+interval weighed down my aged head.  But enough of this----
+
+FIESCO.  Not enough to satisfy the anxiety of friendship.  You must
+inform me farther when we are alone.  (Addressing BOURGOGNINO.)  Welcome,
+brave youth!  Our acquaintance is yet green; but my affection for thee is
+already ripe.  Has your esteem for me improved?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  'Tis on the increase.
+
+FIESCO.  Verrina, it is reported that this brave young man is to be your
+son-in-law.  Receive my warmest approbation of your choice.  I have
+conversed with him but once; and yet I should be proud to call him my
+relation.
+
+VERRINA.  That judgment makes me of my daughter vain.
+
+FIESCO (to the others).  Sacco, Calcagno--all unfrequent visitors--I
+should fear the absence of Genoa's noblest ornaments were a proof that I
+had been deficient in hospitality.  And here I greet a fifth guest,
+unknown to me, indeed, but sufficiently recommended by this worthy
+circle.
+
+ROMANO.  He, my lord, is simply a painter, by name Julio Romano, who
+lives by theft and counterfeit of Nature's charms.  His pencil is his
+only escutcheon; and he now comes hither (bowing profoundly) to seek the
+manly outlines of a Brutus.
+
+FIESCO.  Give me your hand, Romano!  I love the mistress of your soul
+with a holy fire.  Art is the right hand of Nature.  The latter only gave
+us being, but 'twas the former made us men.  What are the subjects of
+your labor?
+
+ROMANO.  Scenes from the heroic ages of antiquity.  At Florence is my
+dying Hercules, at Venice my Cleopatra, the raging Ajax at Rome, where,
+in the Vatican, the heroes of former times rise again to light.
+
+FIESCO.  And what just now employs you?
+
+ROMANO.  Alas! my lord, I've thrown away my pencil.  The lamp of genius
+burns quicker than the lamp of life.  Beyond a certain moment the flame
+flickers and dies.  This is my last production.
+
+FIESCO (in a lively manner).  It could not come more opportune.  I feel
+to-day a more than usual cheerfulness.  A sentiment of calm delight
+pervades my being, and fits it to receive the impression of Nature's
+beauties.  Let us view your picture.  I shall feast upon the sight.
+Come, friends, we will devote ourselves entirely to the artist.  Place
+your picture.
+
+VERRINA (apart to the others).  Now, Genoese, observe!
+
+ROMANO (placing the picture).  The light must fall upon it thus.  Draw up
+that curtain--let fall the other,--right.  (Standing on one side).  It is
+the story of Virginia and Appius Claudius.  (A long pause; all
+contemplate the picture.)
+
+VERRINA (with enthusiasm).  Strike, aged father!  Dost thou tremble,
+tyrant?  How pale you stand there, Romans!  Imitate him, senseless
+Romans!  The sword yet glitters!  Imitate me, senseless Genoese!  Down
+with Doria!  Down with him!  (Striking at the picture.)
+
+FIESCO (to the painter, smiling).  Could you desire greater applause?
+Your art has transformed this old man into a youthful enthusiast.
+
+VERRINA (exhausted).  Where am I!  What has become of them!  They
+vanished like bubbles.  You here, Fiesco! and the tyrant living!
+
+FIESCO.  My friend, amidst this admiration you have overlooked the parts
+most truly beauteous.  Does this Roman's head thus strike you?  Look
+there!  Observe that damsel--what soft expression!  What feminine
+delicacy!  How sweetly touched are those pale lips!  How exquisite that
+dying look!  Inimitable!  Divine, Romano!  And that white, dazzling
+breast, that heaves with the last pulse of life.  Draw more such
+beauties, Romano, and I will give up Nature to worship thy creative
+fancy.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Is it thus, Verrina, your hopes are answered?
+
+VERRINA.  Take courage, son!  The Almighty has rejected the arm of
+FIESCO.  Upon ours he must rely.
+
+FIESCO (to ROMANO).  Well--'tis your last work, Romano.  Your powers are
+exhausted.  Lay down your pencil.  Yet, whilst I am admiring the artist,
+I forget to satiate on the work.  I could stand gazing on it, regardless
+of an earthquake.  Take away your picture--the wealth of Genoa would
+scarcely reach the value of this Virginia.  Away with it.
+
+ROMANO.  Honor is the artist's noblest reward.  I present it to you.
+(Offers to go away.)
+
+FIESCO.  Stay, Romano!  (He walks majestically up and down the room,
+seeming to reflect on something of importance.  Sometimes he casts a
+quick and penetrating glance at the others; at last he takes ROMANO
+by the hand, and leads him to the picture.)  Come near, painter.
+(With dignified pride.)  Proudly stand'st thou there because, upon
+the dead canvas, thou canst simulate life, and immortalize great deeds
+with small endeavor.  Thou canst dilate with the poet's fire on the
+empty puppet-show of fancy, without heart and without the nerve of
+life-inspiring deeds; depose tyrants on canvas, and be thyself a
+miserable slave!  Thou canst liberate Republics with a dash of the
+pencil, yet not break thy own chains!  (In a loud and commanding tone.)
+Go!  Thy work is a mere juggle.  Let the semblance give place to reality!
+(With haughtiness, overturning the picture.)  I have done what thou hast
+only painted.  (All struck with astonishment; ROMANO carries away the
+picture in confusion.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XVIII.
+
+     The former, except ROMANO.
+
+FIESCO.  Did you suppose the lion slept because he ceased to roar?  Did
+your vain thoughts persuade you that none but you could feel the chains
+of Genoa?  That none but you durst break them?  Before you knew their
+weight, Fiesco had already broken them.  (He opens an escritoire, takes
+out a parcel of letters, and throws them on the table.)  These bring
+soldiers from Parma;--these, French money;-these, four galleys from the
+Pope.  What now is wanting to rouse the tyrant in his lair?  Tell me,
+what think you wanting?  (All stand silent with astonishment.)
+Republicans! you waste your time in curses when you should overthrow the
+tyrant.  (All but VERRINA throw themselves at FIESCO'S feet.)
+
+VERRINA.  Fiesco, my spirit bends to thine, but my knee cannot.  Thy soul
+is great; but--rise, Genoese!  (They rise.)
+
+FIESCO.  All Genoa was indignant at the effeminate Fiesco; all Genoa
+cursed the profligate FIESCO.  Genoese! my amours have blinded the
+cunning despot.  My wild excesses served to guard my plans from the
+danger of an imprudent confidence.  Concealed beneath the cloak of luxury
+the infant plot grew up.  Enough--I'm known sufficiently to Genoa in
+being known to you.  I have attained my utmost wish.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (throwing himself indignantly into a chair).  Am I, then,
+nothing?
+
+FIESCO.  But let us turn from thought to action.  All the engines are
+prepared--I can storm the city by sea and land.  Rome, France, and Parma
+cover me; the nobles are disaffected; the hearts of the populace are
+mine; I have lulled to sleep the tyrants; the state is ripe for
+revolution.  We are no longer in the hands of Fortune.  Nothing is
+wanting.  Verrina is lost in thought.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Patience!  I have a word to say, which will more quickly
+rouse him than the trumpet of the last day.  (To VERRINA--calls out to
+him emphatically.)  Father!  Awake!  Thy Bertha will despair.
+
+VERRINA.  Who spoke those words?  Genoese, to arms!
+
+FIESCO.  Think on the means of forwarding our plan.  Night has advanced
+upon our discourse; Genoa is wrapped in sleep; the tyrant sinks exhausted
+beneath the sins of the day.  Let us watch o'er both.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Let us, before we part, consecrate our heroic union by an
+embrace!  (They form a circle, with joined arms.)  Here unite five of the
+bravest hearts in Genoa to decide their country's fate.  (All embrace
+eagerly.)  When the universe shall fall asunder, and the eternal sentence
+shall cut in twain the bonds of consanguinity and love, then may this
+fivefold band of heroes still remain entire!  (They separate.)
+
+VERRINA.  When shall we next assemble?
+
+FIESCO.  At noon to-morrow I'll hear your sentiments.
+
+VERRINA.  'Tis well--at noon to-morrow.  Goodnight, Fiesco!  Come,
+Bourgognino, you will hear something marvellous.
+
+                                       [Exeunt VERRINA and BOURGOGNINO.
+
+FIESCO (to the others).  Depart by the back gates, that Doria's spies may
+not suspect us.
+
+                                        [Exeunt SACCO and CALCAGNO.
+
+
+
+SCENE XIX.  FIESCO, alone.
+
+FIESCO (walking up and down in meditation).  What a tumult is in my
+breast!  What a concourse of dark, uncertain images!  Like guilty
+wretches stealing out in secret to do some horrid deed, with trembling
+steps and blushing faces bent toward the ground, these flattering
+phantoms glide athwart my soul.  Stay! stay!--let me examine you more
+closely.  A virtuous thought strengthens the heart of man, and boldly
+meets the day.  Ha!  I know you--robed in the livery of Satan--avaunt!
+(A pause; he continues with energy.)  Fiesco, the patriot! the Duke
+Fiesco!  Peace!  On this steep precipice the boundaries of virtue
+terminate: here heaven and hell are separated.  Here have heroes
+stumbled, here have they fallen, and left behind a name loaded with
+curses--here, too, have heroes paused, here checked their course, and
+risen to immortality.  (More vehemently.)  To know the hearts of Genoa
+mine!  To govern with a master's hand this formidable state!  Oh,
+artifice of sin, that masks each devil with an angel's face!  Fatal
+ambition!  Everlasting tempter!  Won by thy charms, angels abandoned
+heaven, and death sprung from thy embraces.  (Shuddering.)  Thy syren
+voice drew angels from their celestial mansions--man thou ensnarest with
+beauty, riches, power.  (After a pause, in a firm tone.)  To gain a
+diadem is great--to reject it is divine!  (Resolutely.)  Perish the
+tyrant!  Let Genoa be free--and I (much affected) will be its happiest
+citizen.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III.
+
+SCENE I.--Midnight.  A dreary wilderness.
+
+     VERRINA and BOURGOGNINO entering.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (stands still).  Whither are you leading me, father.  The
+heavy grief that hung upon your brow when first you bade me follow you
+still seems to labor in your panting breast.  Break this dreadful
+silence!  Speak.  I will go no further.
+
+VERRINA.  This is the place.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  You could not choose a spot more awful.  Father, if the
+deed you purpose be like the place--father--my hair will stand on end
+with horror.
+
+VERRINA.  And yet 'tis cheerfulness itself to the gloom that enwraps my
+soul.  Follow me to yon churchyard, where corruption preys on the
+mouldering remnants of mortality, and death holds his fearful banquet--
+where shrieks of damned souls delight the listening fiends, and sorrow
+weeps her fruitless tears into the never-filling urn.  Follow me, my son,
+to where the condition of this world is changed; and God throws off his
+attributes of mercy--there will I speak to thee in agony, and thou shalt
+hear with despair.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Hear! what?  I conjure you, father.
+
+VERRINA.  Youth!  I fear.  Youth, thy blood is warm and crimson--thy
+heart is soft and tender--such natures are alive to human kindness--this
+warmth of feeling melts my obdurate wisdom.  If the frost of age or
+sorrow's leaden pressure had chilled the springtide vigor of thy spirits
+--if black congealed blood had closed the avenues of thy heart against
+the approaches of humanity--then would thy mind be attuned to the
+language of my grief, and thou wouldst look with admiration on my
+project.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  I will hear it, and embrace it as my own.
+
+VERRINA.  Not so, my son--Verrina will not wound thy heart with it.  O
+Scipio, heavy burdens lie on me.  A thought more dark and horrible than
+night, too vast to be contained within the breast of man!  Mark me--my
+hand alone shall execute the deed; but my mind cannot alone support the
+weight of it.  If I were proud, Scipio, I might say greatness unshared is
+torture.  It was a burden to the Deity himself, and he created angels to
+partake his counsels.  Hear, Scipio!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  My soul devours thy words.
+
+VERRINA.  Hear!  But answer nothing--nothing, young man!  Observe me--not
+a word--Fiesco must die.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (struck with astonishment).  Die!  Fiesco!
+
+VERRINA.  Die--I thank thee, God, 'tis out at last--Fiesco must die.  My
+son--die by my hand.  Now, go.  There are deeds too high for human
+judgment.  They appeal alone to heaven's tribunal.  Such a one is this.
+Go!  I neither ask thy blame nor approbation.  I know my inward
+struggles, and that's enough.  But hear!  These thoughts might weary out
+thy mind even to madness.  Hear!  Didst thou observe yesterday with what
+pride he viewed his greatness reflected from our wondering countenances?
+The man whose smiles deceived all Italy, will he endure equals in Genoa?
+Go!  'Tis certain that Fiesco will overthrow the tyrant.  'Tis as certain
+he will become a tyrant still more dangerous.
+
+     [Exit hastily.  BOURGOGNINO looks after him with speechless
+     surprise, then follows slowly.
+
+
+
+SCENE II.--An apartment in FIESCO'S house.  In the middle of the back
+scene a glass door, through which is seen a view of the sea and Genoa.
+Daybreak.
+
+     FIESCO at the window.
+
+FIESCO.  What do I see!  The moon hath hid its face.  The morn is rising
+fiery from the sea.  Wild fancies have beset my sleep, and kept my soul
+convulsed by one idea.  Let me inhale the pure, refreshing breeze.  (He
+opens a window; the city and ocean appear red with the tint of morning.
+FIESCO walking up and down the room with energy.)  I the greatest man in
+Genoa!  And should not lesser souls bow down before the greater?  But is
+not this to trample upon virtue?  (Musing.)  Virtue?  The elevated mind
+is exposed to other than ordinary temptations--shall it then be governed
+by the ordinary rules of virtue?  Is the armor which encases the pigmy's
+feeble frame suited to the giant?  (The sun rises over Genoa.)  This
+majestic city mine!  (Spreading out his arms as if to embrace it.)  To
+flame above it like the god of day!  To rule over it with a monarch mind!
+To hold in subjection all the raging passions, all the insatiable desires
+in this fathomless ocean!  'Tis certain, though the cunning of the thief
+ennoble not the theft, yet doth the prize ennoble the thief.  It is base
+to filch a purse--daring to embezzle a million,--but it is immeasurably
+great to steal a diadem.  As guilt extends its sphere, the infamy
+decreaseth.  (A pause, then with energy.)  To obey! or to command!  A
+fearful dizzying gulf--that absorbs whate'er is precious in the eyes of
+men.  The trophies of the conqueror--the immortal works of science and of
+art--the voluptuous pleasures of the epicure--the whole wealth
+encompassed by the seas.  To obey! or to command!  To be, or not to be!
+The space between is as wide as from the lowest depths of hell to the
+throne of the Almighty.  (In an elevated tone.)  From that awful height
+to look down securely upon the impetuous whirlpool of mankind, where
+blind fortune holds capricious sway!  To quaff at the fountainhead
+unlimited draughts from the rich cup of pleasure!  To hold that armed
+giant law beneath my feet in leading-strings, and see it struggle with
+fruitless efforts against the sacred power of majesty!  To tame the
+stubborn passions of the people, and curb them with a playful rein, as a
+skilful horseman guides the fiery steed!  With a breath--one single
+breath--to quell the rising pride of vassals, whilst the prince, with the
+motion of his sceptre, can embody even his wildest dreams of fancy!  Ah!
+What thoughts are these which transport the astounded mind beyond its
+boundaries!  Prince!  To be for one moment prince comprises the essence
+of a whole existence.  'Tis not the mere stage of life--but the part we
+play on it that gives the value.  The murmurs which compose the thunder's
+roar might singly lull an infant to repose--but united their crash can
+shake the eternal vault of heaven.  I am resolved.  (Walking up and down
+majestically.)
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+     FIESCO; LEONORA, entering with a look of anxiety.
+
+LEONORA.  Pardon me, count.  I fear I interrupt your morning rest.
+
+FIESCO (steps back with astonishment).  Indeed, madam, you do surprise me
+not a little.
+
+LEONORA.  That never happens to those who love.
+
+FIESCO.  Charming countess, you expose your beauty to the rude breath of
+morning.
+
+LEONORA.  I know not why I should preserve its small remains for grief to
+feed on.
+
+FIESCO.  Grief, my love?  I thought that to be free from cares of state
+was happiness.
+
+LEONORA.  It may be so.  Yet do I feel that my weak heart is breaking
+amidst this happiness.  I come, sir, to trouble you with a trifling
+request, if you can spare a moment's time to hear me.  These seven months
+past I have indulged the pleasing dream of being Countess of Lavagna.  It
+now has passed away and left a painful weight upon my mind.  Amid the
+pleasures of my innocent childhood I must seek relief to my disordered
+spirits.  Permit me, therefore, to return to the arms of my beloved
+mother----
+
+FIESCO (with astonishment).  Countess!
+
+LEONORA.  My heart is a poor trembling thing which you should pity.  Even
+the least remembrance of my visionary joy might wound my sickly fancy.  I
+therefore restore the last memorials of your kindness to their rightful
+owner.  (She lays some trinkets on the table.)  This, too, that like a
+dagger struck my heart (presenting a letter).  This, too (going to rush
+out of the door in tears), and I will retain nothing but the wound.
+
+FIESCO (agitated, hastens after and detains her).  Leonora!  For God's
+sake, stay!
+
+LEONORA (falls into his arms exhausted).  To be your wife was more than I
+deserved.  But she who was your wife deserved at least respect.  How
+bitter is the tongue of calumny.  How the wives and maidens of Genoa now
+look down upon me!  "See," they say, "how droops the haughty one whose
+vanity aspired to Fiesco!"  Cruel punishment of my pride!  I triumphed
+over my whole sex when Fiesco led me to the altar----
+
+FIESCO.  Really, Madonna!  All this is most surprising----
+
+LEONORA (aside).  Ah! he changes color--now I revive.
+
+FIESCO.  Wait only two days, countess--then judge my conduct----
+
+LEONORA.  To be sacrificed!  Let me not speak it in thy chaste presence,
+oh, thou virgin day!  To be sacrificed to a shameless wanton!  Look on
+me, my husband!  Ah, surely those eyes that make all Genoa tremble, must
+hide themselves before a weeping woman----
+
+FIESCO (extremely confused).  No more, signora!  No more----
+
+LEONORA (with a melancholy look of reproach).  To rend the heart of a
+poor helpless woman!  Oh, it is so worthy of the manly sex.  Into his
+arms I threw myself, and on his strength confidingly reposed my feminine
+weakness.  To him I trusted the heaven of my hopes.  The generous man
+bestowed it on a----
+
+FIESCO (interrupting her, with vehemence).  No, my Leonora!  No!
+
+LEONORA.  My Leonora!  Heaven, I thank thee!  These were the angelic
+sounds of love once more.  I ought to hate thee, faithless man!  And yet
+I fondly grasp the shadow of thy tenderness.  Hate! said I?  Hate Fiesco?
+Oh, believe it not!  Thy perfidy may bid me die, but cannot bid me hate
+thee.  I did not know my heart----(The MOOR is heard approaching.)
+
+FIESCO.  Leonora! grant me one trifling favor.
+
+LEONORA.  Everything, Fiesco--but indifference.
+
+FIESCO.  Well, well (significantly).  Till Genoa be two days older,
+inquire not! condemn me not!  (Leads her politely to another apartment.)
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+     FIESCO; the MOOR, entering hastily.
+
+FIESCO.  Whence come you thus out of breath?
+
+MOOR.  Quick, my lord!
+
+FIESCO.  Has anything run into the net?
+
+MOOR.  Read this letter.  Am I really here?  Methinks Genoa is become
+shorter by twelve streets, or else my legs have grown that much longer!
+You change color?  Yes, yes--they play at cards for heads, and yours is
+the chief stake.  How do you like it?
+
+FIESCO (throws the letter on the table with horror).  Thou woolly-pated
+rascal!  How camest thou by that letter?
+
+MOOR.  Much in the same way as your grace will come by the republic.  An
+express was sent with it towards Levanto.  I smelt out the game; waylaid
+the fellow in a narrow pass, despatched the fox, and brought the poultry
+hither----
+
+FIESCO.  His blood be on thy head!  As for the letter, 'tis not to be
+paid with gold.
+
+MOOR.  Yet I will be content with silver for it--(seriously, and with a
+look of importance).  Count of Lavagna! 'twas but the other day I sought
+your life.  To-day (pointing to the letter) I have preserved it.  Now I
+think his lordship and the scoundrel are even.  My further service is an
+act of friendship--(presents another letter) number two!
+
+FIESCO (receives it with astonishment).  Art thou mad?
+
+MOOR.  Number two--(with an arrogant air--his arms akimbo) the lion has
+not acted foolishly in pardoning the mouse.  Ah! 'twas a deed of policy.
+Who else could e'er have gnawed the net with which he was surrounded?
+Now, sir, how like you that?
+
+FIESCO.  Fellow, how many devils hast thou in pay?
+
+MOOR.  But one, sir, at your service; and he is in your grace's keeping.
+
+FIESCO.  What!  Doria's own signature!  Whence dost thou bring this
+paper?
+
+MOOR.  Fresh from the hands of my Diana.  I went to her last night,
+tempted her with your charming words, and still more charming sequins.
+The last prevailed.  She bade me call early in the morning.  Lomellino
+had been there as you predicted, and paid the toll to his contraband
+heaven with this deposit.
+
+FIESCO (indignantly).  Oh, these despicable woman-slaves!  They would
+govern kingdoms, and cannot keep a secret from a harlot.  By these papers
+I learn that Doria and his party have formed a plot to murder me, with
+eleven senators, and to place Gianettino on the throne.
+
+MOOR.  Even so--and that upon the morning of the ducal election, the
+third of this month.
+
+FIESCO (vehemently).  The night of our enterprise shall smother that
+morning in its very birth.  Speed thee, Hassan.  My affairs are ripe.
+Collect our fellows.  We will take bloody lead of our adversaries.  Be
+active, Hassan!
+
+MOOR.  I have a budget full of news beside.  Two thousand soldiers are
+safely smuggled into the city.  I've lodged them with the Capuchins,
+where not even a prying sunbeam can espy them.  They burn with eagerness
+to see their leader.  They are fine fellows.
+
+FIESCO.  Each head of them shall yield thee a ducat.  Is there no talk
+about my galleys?
+
+MOOR.  Oh, I've a pleasant story of them, my lord.  Above four hundred
+adventurers, whom the peace 'twixt France and Spain has left without
+employ, besought my people to recommend them to your grace to fight
+against the infidels.  I have appointed them to meet this evening in the
+palace-court.
+
+FIESCO (pleased).  I could almost embrace thee, rascal.  A masterly
+stroke!  Four hundred, said'st thou?  Genoa is in my power.  Four hundred
+crowns are thine----
+
+MOOR (with an air of confidence).  Eh, Fiesco?  We two will pull the
+state in pieces, and sweep away the laws as with a besom.  You know not
+how many hearty fellows I have among the garrison--lads that I can reckon
+on as surely as on a trip to hell.  Now I've so laid my plans that at
+each gate we have among the guard at least six of our creatures, who will
+be enough to overcome the others by persuasion or by wine.  If you wish
+to risk a blow to-night, you'll find the sentinels all drenched with
+liquor.
+
+FIESCO.  Peace, fellow!  Hitherto I have moved the vast machine alone;
+shall I now, at the very goal, be put to shame by the greatest rascal
+under the sun?  Here's my hand upon it, fellow--whate'er the Count
+remains indebted to thee, the Duke shall pay.
+
+MOOR.  And here, too, is a note from the Countess Imperiali.  She
+beckoned to me from her window, when I went up received me graciously,
+and asked me ironically if the Countess of Lavagna had not been lately
+troubled with the spleen.  Does your grace, said I, inquire but for one
+person?
+
+FIESCO (having read the letter throws it aside).  Well said.  What answer
+made she?
+
+MOOR.  She answered, that she still lamented the fate of the poor
+bereaved widow--that she was willing to give her satisfaction, and meant
+to forbid your grace's attentions.
+
+FIESCO (with a sneer).  Which of themselves may possibly cease sometime
+before the day of judgment.  Is that all thy business, Hassan?
+
+MOOR (ironically).  My lord, the affairs of the ladies are next to those
+of state.
+
+FIESCO.  Without a doubt, and these especially.  But for what purpose are
+these papers?
+
+MOOR.  To remove one plague by another.  These powders the signora gave
+me, to mix one every day with your wife's chocolate.
+
+FIESCO (starting).  Gave thee?
+
+MOOR.  Donna Julia, Countess Imperiali.
+
+FIESCO (snatching them from him eagerly).  If thou liest, rascal, I'll
+hang thee up alive in irons at the weathercock of the Lorenzo tower,
+where the wind shall whirl thee nine times round with every blast.  The
+powders?
+
+MOOR (impatiently).  I am to give your wife mixed with her chocolate.
+Such were the orders of Donna Julia Imperiali.
+
+FIESCO (enraged).  Monster! monster!  This lovely creature!  Is there
+room for so much hell within a female bosom?  And I forgot to thank thee,
+heavenly Providence, that has rendered it abortive--abortive through a
+greater devil.  Wondrous are thy ways!  (To the MOOR.)  Swear to me to
+obey, and keep this secret.
+
+MOOR.  Very well.  The latter I can afford--she paid me ready money.
+
+FIESCO.  This note invites me to her.  I'll be with you, madam!--and find
+means to lure you hither, too.  Now haste thee, with all thy speed, and
+call together the conspirators.
+
+MOOR.  This order I anticipated, and therefore at my own risk appointed
+every one to come at ten o'clock precisely.
+
+FIESCO.  I hear the sound of footsteps.  They are here.  Fellow, thy
+villany deserves a gallows of its own, on which no son of Adam was ever
+yet suspended.  Wait in the ante-chamber till I call for thee.
+
+MOOR.  The Moor has done his work--the Moor may go.
+
+                                                  [Exit.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+     FIESCO, VERRINA, BOURGOGNINO, CALCAGNO, SACCO.
+
+FIESCO (meeting them).  The tempest is approaching: the clouds rash
+together.  Advance with caution.  Let all the doors be locked.
+
+VERRINA.  Eight chambers have I made fast behind.  Suspicion cannot come
+within a hundred steps of us.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Here is no traitor, unless our fear become one.
+
+FIESCO.  Fear cannot pass my threshold.  Welcome he whose mind remains
+the same as yesterday.  Be seated.  (They seat themselves.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO (walking up and down).  I care not to sit in cold
+deliberation when action calls upon me.
+
+FIESCO.  Genoese, this hour is eventful.
+
+VERRINA.  Thou hast challenged us to consider a plan for dethroning the
+tyrant.  Demand of us--we are here to answer thee.
+
+FIESCO.  First, then, a question which, as it comes so late, you may
+think strange.  Who is to fall?  (A pause.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO (leaning over FIESCO'S chair, with an expressive look).  The
+tyrants.
+
+FIESCO.  Well spoken.  The tyrants.  I entreat you weigh well the
+importance of the word.  Is he who threatens the overthrow of liberty--or
+he who has it in his power--the greater tyrant?
+
+VERRINA.  The first I hate, I fear the latter.  Let Andreas Doria fall!
+
+CALCAGNO (with emotion).  Andreas?  The old Andreas! who perhaps
+to-morrow may pay the debt of nature----
+
+SACCO.  Andreas?  That mild old man!
+
+FIESCO.  Formidable is that old man's mildness, O my friend--the
+brutality of Gianettino only deserves contempt.  "Let Andreas fall!"
+There spoke thy wisdom, Verrina.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  The chain of iron, and the cord of silk, alike are bonds.
+Let Andreas perish!
+
+FIESCO (going to the table).  The sentence, then is passed upon the uncle
+and the nephew.  Sign it!  (They all sign.)  The question who is settled.
+How must be next determined.  Speak first, Calcagno.
+
+CALCAGNO.  We must execute it either as soldiers or assassins.  The first
+is dangerous, because we must have many confidants.  'Tis also doubtful,
+because the peoples' hearts are not all with us.  To act the second our
+five good daggers are sufficient.  Two days hence high mass will be
+performed in the Lorenzo Church--both the Dorias will be present.  In the
+house of God even a tyrant's cares are lulled to sleep.  I have done.
+
+FIESCO (turning away).  Calcagno, your plan is politic, but 'tis
+detestable.  Raphael Sacco, yours?
+
+SACCO.  Calcagno's reasons please me, but the means he chooses my mind
+revolts at.  Better were it that Fiesco should invite both the uncle and
+nephew to a feast, where, pressed on all sides by the vengeance of the
+republic, they must swallow death at the dagger's point, or in a bumper
+of good Cyprian.  This method is at least convenient.
+
+FIESCO (with horror).  Ah, Sacco!  What if the wine their dying tongues
+shall taste become for us torments of burning pitch in hell!  Away with
+this advice!  Speak thou, Verrina.
+
+VERRINA.  An open heart shows a bold front.  Assassination degrades us to
+banditti.  The hero advances sword in hand.  I propose to give aloud the
+signal of revolt, and boldly rouse the patriots of Genoa to vengeance.
+(He starts from his seat, the others do the same.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO (embracing him).  And with armed hand wrest Fortune's favors
+from her.  This is the voice of honor, and is mine.
+
+FIESCO.  And mine.  Shame on you, Genoese! (to SACCO and CALCAGNO).
+Fortune has already done too much for us, let something be our own.
+Therefore open revolt!  And that, Genoese, this very night----(VERRINA
+and BOURGOGNINO astonished--the others terrified.)
+
+CALCAGNO.  What!  To-night!  The tyrants are yet too powerful, our force
+too small.
+
+SACCO.  To-night!  And naught prepared?  The day is fast declining.
+
+FIESCO.  Your doubts are reasonable, but read these papers.  (He gives
+them GIANETTINO'S papers, and walks up and down with a look of
+satisfaction, whilst they read them eagerly.)  Now, farewell, thou proud
+and haughty star of Genoa, that didst seem to fill the whole horizon with
+thy brightness.  Knowest thou not that the majestic sun himself must quit
+the heavens, and yield his sceptre to the radiant moon?  Farewell, Doria,
+beauteous star!
+
+     Patroclus to the shades is gone,
+     And he was more than thou.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (after reading the papers).  This is horrible.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Twelve victims at a blow!
+
+VERRINA.  To-morrow in the senate-house!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Give me these papers, and I will ride with them through
+Genoa, holding them up to view.  The very stones will rise in mutiny, and
+even the dogs will howl against the tyrant.
+
+ALL.  Revenge!  Revenge!  Revenge!  This very night!
+
+FIESCO.  Now you have reached the point.  At sunset I will invite hither
+the principal malcontents--those that stand upon the bloody list of
+Gianettino!  Besides the Sauli, the Gentili, Vivaldi, Vesodimari, all
+mortal enemies of the house of Doria; but whom the tyrant forgot to fear.
+They, doubtless, will embrace my plan with eagerness.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  I doubt it not.
+
+FIESCO.  Above all things, we must render ourselves masters of the sea.
+Galleys and seamen I have ready.  The twenty vessels of the Dorias are
+dismantled, and may be easily surprised.  The entrance of the inner
+harbor must be blocked up, all hope of flight cut off.  If we secure this
+point, all Genoa is in our power.
+
+VERRINA.  Doubtless.
+
+FIESCO.  Then we must seize the strongest posts in the city, especially
+the gate of St. Thomas, which, leading to the harbor, connects our land
+and naval forces.  Both the Dorias must be surprised within their
+palaces, and killed.  The bells must toll, the citizens be called upon to
+side with us, and vindicate the liberties of Genoa.  If Fortune favor us,
+you shall hear the rest in the senate.
+
+VERRINA.  The plan is good.  Now for the distribution of our parts.
+
+FIESCO (significantly).  Genoese, you chose me, of your own accord, as
+chief of the conspiracy.  Will you obey my further orders?
+
+VERRINA.  As certainly as they shall be the best.
+
+FIESCO.  Verrina, dost thou know the principle of all warlike enterprise?
+Instruct him, Genoese.  It is subordination.  If your will be not
+subjected to mine--observe me well--if I be not the head of the
+conspiracy, I am no more a member.
+
+VERRINA.  A life of freedom is well worth some hours of slavery.  We
+obey.
+
+FIESCO.  Then leave me now.  Let one of you reconnoitre the city and
+inform me of the strength or weakness of the several posts.  Let
+another find out the watchword.  A third must see that the galleys
+are in readiness.  A fourth conduct the two thousand soldiers into my
+palace-court.  I myself will make all preparations here for the evening,
+and pass the interval perhaps in play.  At nine precisely let all be at
+my palace to hear my final orders.  (Rings the bell.)
+
+VERRINA.  I take the harbor.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  I the soldiers.
+
+CALCAGNO.  I will learn the watchword.
+
+SACCO.  I will reconnoitre Genoa.
+
+                               [Exeunt.
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+     FIESCO, MOOR.
+
+FIESCO (seated at a desk, and writing).  Did they not struggle against
+the word subordination as the worm against the needle which transfixes
+it?  But 'tis too late, republicans.
+
+MOOR (entering).  My lord----
+
+FIESCO (giving him a paper).  Invite all those whose names are written
+here to see a play this evening at my palace.
+
+MOOR.  Perhaps to act a part, and pay the admittance with their heads.
+
+FIESCO (in a haughty and contemptuous manner).  When that is over I will
+no longer detain thee here in Genoa.  (Going, throws him a purse.)  This
+is thy last employment.
+
+                                     [Exit.
+
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+     MOOR, alone.
+
+MOOR (taking up the purse slowly, and looking after FIESCO with
+surprise).  Are we, then, on these terms?  "I will detain thee in Genoa
+no longer."  That is to say, translated from the Christian language into
+my heathen tongue, "When I am duke I shall hang up my friend the Moor
+upon a Genoese gallows."  Hum!  He fears, because I know his tricks, my
+tongue may bring his honor into danger when he is duke.  When he is duke?
+Hold, master count!  That event remains to be considered.  Ah! old Doria,
+thy life is in my hands.  Thou art lost unless I warn thee of thy danger.
+Now, if I go to him and discover the plot, I save the Duke of Genoa no
+less than his existence and his dukedom, and gain at least this hatful of
+gold for my reward.  (Going, stops suddenly.)  But stay, friend Hassan,
+thou art going on a foolish errand.  Suppose this scene of riot is
+prevented, and nothing but good is the result.  Pshaw! what a cursed
+trick my avarice would then have played me!  Come, devil, help me to make
+out what promises the greatest mischief; to cheat Fiesco, or to give up
+Doria to the dagger.  If Fiesco succeed then Genoa may prosper.  Away!
+That must not be.  If this Doria escape, then all remains as it was
+before, and Genoa is quiet.  That's still worse!  Ay, but to see these
+rebels' heads upon the block!  Hum!  On the other hand 'twould be amusing
+to behold the illustrious Dorias in this evening's massacre the victims
+of a rascally Moor.  No.  This doubtful question a Christian might
+perhaps resolve, but 'tis too deep a riddle for my Moorish brains.  I'll
+go propose it to some learned man.
+
+                                      [Exit.
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+     An apartment in the house of the COUNTESS IMPERIALI.
+
+     JULIA in dishabille.  GIANETTINO enters, agitated.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Good-evening, sister.
+
+JULIA (rising).  It must be something extraordinary which brings the
+crown-prince of Genoa to his sister!
+
+GIANETTINO.  Sister, you are continually surrounded by butterflies and I
+by wasps.  How is it possible that we should meet?  Let's be seated.
+
+JULIA.  You almost excite my curiosity.
+
+GIANETTINO.  When did Fiesco visit you last?
+
+JULIA.  A strange question.  As if I burdened my memory with such
+trifles!
+
+GIANETTINO.  I must know--positively.
+
+JULIA.  Well, then, he was here yesterday.
+
+GIANETTINO.  And behaved without reserve?
+
+JULIA.  As usual.
+
+GIANETTINO.  As much a coxcomb as ever.
+
+JULIA (offended).  Brother!
+
+GIANETTINO (more vehemently).  I say--as much a coxcomb----
+
+JULIA (rises, with indignation).  Sir!  What do you take me for?
+
+GIANETTINO (keeps his seat--sarcastically).  For a mere piece of
+woman-flesh, wrapped up in a great--great patent of nobility.  This
+between ourselves--there is no one by to hear us.
+
+JULIA (enraged).  Between ourselves--you are an impertinent jackanapes,
+and presume upon the credit of your uncle.  No one by to hear us, indeed!
+
+GIANETTINO.  Sister! sister! don't be angry.  I'm only merry because
+Fiesco is still as much a coxcomb as ever.  That's all I wanted to know.
+Your servant----(Going.)
+
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+     The former, LOMELLINO, entering.
+
+LOMELLINO (to JULIA, respectfully).  Pardon my boldness, gracious lady.
+(To GIANETTINO.)  Certain affairs which cannot be delayed----(GIANETTINO
+takes him aside; JULIA sits down angrily at the pianoforte and plays an
+allegro.)
+
+GIANETTINO (to LOMELLINO).  Is everything prepared for to-morrow?
+
+LOMELLINO.  Everything, prince--but the courier, who was despatched this
+morning to Levanto, is not yet returned, nor is Spinola arrived.  Should
+he be intercepted!  I'm much alarmed----
+
+GIANETTINO.  Fear nothing.  You have that list at hand?
+
+LOMELLINO (embarrassed).  My lord--the list?  I do not know--I must have
+left it at home in my other pocket.
+
+GIANETTINO.  It does not signify--would that Spinola were but here.
+Fiesco will be found dead in his bed.  I have taken measures for it.
+
+LOMELLINO.  But it will cause great consternation.
+
+GIANETTINO.  In that lies our security.  Common crimes but move the blood
+and stir it to revenge: atrocious deeds freeze it with terror, and
+annihilate the faculties of man.  You know the fabled power of Medusa's
+head--they who but looked on it were turned to stone.  What may not be
+done, my boy, before stories are warmed to animation?
+
+LOMELLINO.  Have you given the countess any intimation of it?
+
+GIANETTINO.  That would never do!  We must deal more cautiously with her
+attachment to FIESCO.  When she shares the sweets, the cost will soon be
+forgotten.  Come, I expect troops this evening from Milan, and must give
+orders at the gates for their reception.  (To JULIA.)  Well, sister, have
+you almost thrummed away your anger?
+
+JULIA.  Go!  You're a rude unmannered creature.  (GIANETTINO, going,
+meets FIESCO.)
+
+
+
+SCENE X.
+
+     The former; FIESCO.
+
+GIANETTINO (stepping back).  Ha!
+
+FIESCO (with politeness).  Prince, you spare me a visit which I was just
+now about to pay.
+
+GIANETTINO.  And I, too, count, am pleased to meet you here.
+
+FIESCO (approaching JULIA courteously).  Your charms, signora, always
+surpass expectation.
+
+JULIA.  Fie! that in another would sound ambiguous--but I'm shocked at my
+dishabille--excuse me, count--(going).
+
+FIESCO.  Stay, my beauteous lady.  Woman's beauty is ne'er so charming as
+when in the toilet's simplest garb (laughingly).  An undress is her
+surest robe of conquest.  Permit me to loosen these tresses----
+
+JULIA.  Oh, how ready are you men to cause confusion!
+
+FIESCO (with a smile to GIANETTINO).  In dress, as in the state--is it
+not so?  (To JULIA.)  This ribbon, too, is awkwardly put on.  Sit down,
+fair countess--your Laura's skill may strike the eye, but cannot reach
+the heart.  Let me play the chambermaid for once.  (She sits down, he
+arranges her dress.)
+
+GIANETTINO (aside to LOMELLINO).  Poor frivolous fellow!
+
+FIESCO (engaged about her bosom).  Now see--this I prudently conceal.
+The senses should always be blind messengers, and not know the secret
+compact between nature and fancy.
+
+JULIA.  That is trifling.
+
+FIESCO.  Not at all; for, consider, the prettiest novelty loses all its
+zest when once become familiar.  Our senses are but the rabble of our
+inward republic.  The noble live by them, but elevate themselves above
+their low, degenerate tastes.  (Having adjusted her toilet, he leads her
+to a glass.)  Now, by my honor! this must on the morrow be Genoa's
+fashion--(politely)--may I have the honor of leading you so abroad,
+countess?
+
+JULIA.  The cunning flatterer!  How artfully he lays his plans to ensnare
+me.  No!  I have a headache, and will stay at home.
+
+FIESCO.  Pardon me, countess.  You may be so cruel, but surely you will
+not.  To-day a company of Florentine comedians arrive at my palace.  Most
+of the Genoese ladies will be present this evening at their performance,
+and I am uncertain whom to place in the chief box without offending
+others.  There is but one expedient.  (Making a low bow.)  If you would
+condescend, signora----
+
+JULIA (blushing, retires to a side apartment).  Laura!
+
+GIANETTINO (approaching FIESCO).  Count, you remember an unpleasant
+circumstance----
+
+FIESCO (interrupting him).  'Tis my wish, prince, we should both forget
+it.  The actions of men are regulated by their knowledge of each other.
+It is my fault that you knew me so imperfectly.
+
+GIANETTINO.  I shall never think of it without craving your pardon from
+my inmost soul----
+
+FIESCO.  Nor I without forgiving you from my heart's core.  (JULIA
+returns, her dress a little altered.)
+
+GIANETTINO.  Count, I just now recollect that you are going to cruise
+against the Turks----
+
+FIESCO.  This evening we weigh anchor.  On that account I had some
+apprehensions from which my friend Doria's kindness may deliver me.
+
+GIANETTINO (obsequiously).  Most willingly.  Command my utmost influence!
+
+FIESCO.  The circumstance might cause a concourse toward the harbor, and
+about my palace, which the duke your uncle might misinterpret.
+
+GIANETTINO (in a friendly manner).  I'll manage that for you.  Continue
+your preparations, and may success attend your enterprise!
+
+FIESCO (with a smile).  I'm much obliged to you.
+
+
+
+SCENE XI.
+
+     The former--A GERMAN of the body-guard.
+
+GIANETTINO.  What now?
+
+GERMAN.  Passing by the gate of St. Thomas I observed a great number of
+armed soldiers hastening towards the harbor.  The galleys of the Count
+Fiesco were preparing for sea.
+
+GIANETTINO.  Is that all?  Report it no further.
+
+GERMAN.  Very well.  From the convent of the Capuchins, too, suspicious
+rabble are pouring, and steal toward the market-place.  From their gait
+and appearance I should suppose them soldiers.
+
+GIANETTINO (angrily).  Out upon this fool's zeal!  (To LOMELLINO, aside.)
+These are undoubtedly my Milanese.
+
+GERMAN.  Does your grace command that they should be arrested?
+
+GIANETTINO (aloud to LOMELLINO).  Look to them, Lomellino.  (To the
+GERMAN.)  Begone!  'Tis all well.  (Aside to LOMELLINO.)  Bid that German
+beast be silent.
+
+                                [Exeunt LOMELLINO and GERMAN.
+
+FIESCO (in another part of the room with JULIA--looks toward
+GIANETTINO.).  Our friend Doria seems displeased.  May I inquire the
+reason?
+
+GIANETTINO.  No wonder.  These eternal messages.
+
+                                             [Exit hastily.
+
+FIESCO.  The play awaits us, too, signora.  May I offer you my hand?
+
+JULIA.  Stay, let me take my cloak.  'Tis no tragedy I hope, count?  It
+would haunt me in my dreams.
+
+FIESCO (sarcastically).  'Twill excite immoderate laughter.
+
+     [He hands her out--the curtain falls.
+
+
+
+
+ACT IV.
+
+SCENE I.--Night.  The court of FIESCO'S palace.  The lamps lighted.
+Persons carrying in arms.  A wing of the palace illuminated.  A heap of
+arms on one side of the stage.
+
+     BOURGOGNINO, leading a band of soldiers.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Halt!  Let four sentinels be stationed at the great gate.
+Two at every door of the palace.  (The sentinels take their posts.)  Let
+every one that chooses enter, but none depart.  If any one attempts to
+force his way run him through.  (Goes with the rest into the palace.  The
+sentinels walk up and down.  A pause.)
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+     ZENTURIONE entering.
+
+SENTINELS AT THE GATE (call out).  Who goes there?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  A friend of Lavagna.  (Goes across the court to the palace
+on the right.)
+
+SENTINEL THERE.  Back!  (ZENTURIONE starts, and goes to the door on the
+left.)
+
+SENTINEL ON THE LEFT.  Back!
+
+ZENTURIONE (stands still with surprise.  A pause.  Then to the SENTINEL
+on the left).  Friend, which is the way to the theatre?
+
+SENTINEL.  Don't know.
+
+ZENTURIONE (walks up and down with increasing surprise--then to the
+SENTINEL on the right).  Friend, when does the play begin?
+
+SENTINEL.  Don't know.
+
+ZENTURIONE (astonished, walks up and down.  Perceives the weapons;
+alarmed).  Friend, what mean these?
+
+SENTINEL.  Don't know.
+
+ZENTURIONE (wraps himself up in his cloak, alarmed).  Strange!
+
+SENTINELS  AT THE GATE (calling out).  Who goes there?
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+     The former, ZIBO entering.
+
+ZIBO.  A friend of Lavagna.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Zibo, where are we?
+
+ZIBO.  What mean you?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Look around you, Zibo.
+
+ZIBO.  Where?  What?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  All the doors are guarded!
+
+ZIBO.  Here are arms----
+
+ZENTURIONE.  No one that will answer----
+
+ZIBO.  'Tis strange!
+
+ZENTURIONE.  What is it o'clock?
+
+ZIBO.  Past eight.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  How bitter cold it is!
+
+ZIBO.  Eight was the hour appointed.
+
+ZENTURIONE (shaking his head).  'Tis not all as it should be here.
+
+ZIBO.  Fiesco means to jest with us----
+
+ZENTURIONE.  To-morrow will be the ducal election.  Zibo, all's not right
+here, depend upon it.
+
+ZIBO.  Hush! hush!
+
+ZENTURIONE.  The right wing of the palace is full of lights.
+
+ZIBO.  Do you hear nothing?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  A confused murmuring within--and----
+
+ZIBO.  The sound of clattering arms----
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Horrible! horrible!
+
+ZIBO.  A carriage--it stops at the gate!
+
+SENTINELS AT THE GATE (calling out).  Who goes there?
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+     The former, four of the ASSERATO family.
+
+ASSERATO (entering).  A friend of FIESCO.
+
+ZIBO.  They are the four Asserati.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Good evening, friends!
+
+ASSERATO.  We are going to the play.
+
+ZIBO.  A pleasant journey to you!
+
+ASSERATO.  Are you not going also?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Walk on.  We'll just take a breath of air first.
+
+ASSERATO.  'Twill soon begin.  Come.  (Going.)
+
+SENTINEL.  Back!
+
+ASSERATO.  What can this mean?
+
+ZENTURIONE (laughing).  To keep you from the palace.
+
+ASSERATO.  Here's some mistake----
+
+ZIBO.  That's plain enough.  (Music is heard in the right wing.)
+
+ASSERATO.  Do you hear the symphony?  The comedy is going to begin.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  I think it has begun, and we are acting our parts as fools.
+
+ZIBO.  I'm not over warm--I'll return home.
+
+ASSERATO.  Arms here, too?
+
+ZIBO.  Poh!  Mere play-house articles.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Shall we stand waiting, like ghosts upon the banks of
+Acheron?  Come, let us to a tavern!  (All six go towards the gate.)
+
+SENTINELS (calling loudly).  Back!  Back!
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Death and the devil!  We are caught.
+
+ZIBO.  My sword shall open a passage!
+
+ASSERATO.  Put it up!  The count's a man of honor.
+
+ZIBO.  We are sold! betrayed!  The comedy was a bait, and we're caught in
+a trap.
+
+ASSERATO.  Heaven forbid!  And yet I tremble for the event.
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+     The former--VERRINA, SACCO, and NOBLES.
+
+SENTINELS.  Who goes there?
+
+VERRINA.  Friends of the house.  (Seven NOBLES enter with him.)
+
+ZIBO.  These are his confidants.  Now all will be explained.
+
+SACCO (in conversation with VERRINA).  'Tis as I told you; Lascaro is on
+guard at the St. Thomas' gate, the best officer of Doria, and blindly
+devoted to him.
+
+VERRINA.  I'm glad of it.
+
+ZIBO (to VERRINA).  Verrina, you come opportunely to clear up the
+mystery.
+
+VERRINA.  How so?  What mean you?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  We are invited to a comedy.
+
+VERRINA.  Then we are going the same way.
+
+ZENTURIONE (impatiently).  Yes--the way of all flesh.  You see--the doors
+are guarded.  Why guard the doors?
+
+ZIBO.  Why these sentinels?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  We stand here like criminals beneath the gallows.
+
+VERRINA.  The count will come himself.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  'Twere well if he came a little faster.  My patience begins
+to fail.  (All the NOBLES walk up and down in the background.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO (coming out of the palace, to VERRINA).  How goes it in the
+harbor?
+
+VERRINA.  They're all safe on board.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  The palace is full of soldiers.
+
+VERRINA.  'Tis almost nine.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  The count is long in coming.
+
+VERRINA.  And yet too quick to gain his wishes.  Bourgognino!  There is a
+thought that freezes me.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Father, be not too hasty.
+
+VERRINA.  It is impossible to be too hasty where delay is fatal.  I must
+commit a second murder to justify the first.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  But--when must Fiesco fall?
+
+VERRINA.  When Genoa is free Fiesco dies!
+
+SENTINELS.  Who goes there?
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+     The former, FIESCO.
+
+FIESCO.  A friend!  (The NOBLES bow--the SENTINELS present their arms.)
+Welcome, my worthy guests!  You must have been displeased at my long
+absence.  Pardon me.  (In a low voice to VERRINA.)  Ready?
+
+VERRINA (in the same manner).  As you wish.
+
+FIESCO (to BOURGOGNINO).  And you?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Quite prepared.
+
+FIESCO (to SACCO).  And you?
+
+SACCO.  All's right.
+
+FIESCO.  And Calcagno?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Is not yet arrived.
+
+FIESCO (aloud to the SENTINELS).  Make fast the gates!  (He takes off his
+hat, and steps forward with dignity towards the assembly.)  My friends--I
+have invited you hither to a play--not as spectators, but to allot to
+each a part therein.
+
+Long enough have we borne the insolence of Gianettino Doria, and the
+usurpation of Andreas.  My friends, if we would deliver Genoa, no time is
+to be lost.  For what purpose, think you, are those twenty galleys which
+beset our harbor?  For what purpose the alliances which the Dorias have
+of late concluded?  For what purpose the foreign forces which they have
+collected even in the heart of Genoa?  Murmurs and execrations avail no
+longer.  To save all we must dare all.  A desperate disease requires a
+desperate remedy.  Is there one base enough in this assembly to own an
+equal for his master?  (Murmurs.)  Here is not one whose ancestors did
+not watch around the cradle of infant Genoa.  What!--in Heaven's name!--
+what, I ask you, have these two citizens to boast of that they could urge
+their daring flight so far above our head?  (Increasing murmurs.)  Every
+one of you is loudly called upon to fight for the cause of Genoa against
+its tyrants.  No one can surrender a hair's-breadth of his rights without
+betraying the soul of the whole state.  (Interrupted by violent
+commotions he proceeds.)
+
+You feel your wrongs--then everything is gained.  I have already paved
+your way to glory--Genoese, will you follow?  I am prepared to lead you.
+Those signs of war which you just now beheld with horror should awaken
+your heroism.  Your anxious shuddering must warm into a glorious zeal
+that you may unite your efforts with this patriotic band to overthrow the
+tyrant.  Success will crown the enterprise, for all our preparations are
+well arranged.  The cause is just, for Genoa suffers.  The attempt will
+render us immortal, for it is vast and glorious----
+
+ZENTURIONE (vehemently, and agitated).  Enough!  Genoa shall be free!  Be
+this our shout of onset against hell itself!
+
+ZIBO.  And may he who is not roused by it pant at the slavish oar till
+the last trumpet break his chains----
+
+FIESCO.  Spoken like men.  Now you deserve to know the danger that hung
+over yourselves and Genoa.  (Gives them the papers of the MOOR.)  Lights,
+soldiers!  (The nobles crowd about the lights, and read--FIESCO aside to
+VERRINA.)  Friend, it went as I could wish.
+
+VERRINA.  Be not too certain.  Upon the left I saw countenances that grew
+pale, and knees that tottered.
+
+ZENTURIONE (enraged).  Twelve senators!  Infernal villany!  Seize each a
+sword!  (All, except two, eagerly take up the weapons that lie in
+readiness.)
+
+ZIBO.  Thy name, too, Bourgognino, is written there.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Ay, and if Heaven permit, it shall be written to-day upon
+the throat of Gianettino.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Two swords remain----
+
+ZIBO.  Ah!  What sayest thou?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Two amongst us have not taken swords.
+
+ASSERATO.  My brothers cannot bear the sight of blood--pray spare them!
+
+ZENTURIONE (vehemently).  What!  Not a tyrant's blood!  Tear them to
+pieces--cowards!  Let such bastards be driven from the republic!  (Some
+of the assembly attack the two ASSERATI.)
+
+FIESCO (restraining them).  Cease!  Shall Genoa owe its liberty to
+slaves?  Shall our pure gold be debased by this alloy?  (He disengages
+them.)  Gentlemen, you must be content to take up your abode within my
+palace until our business be decided.  (To the sentinels.)  These are
+your prisoners; you answer for their safety!  Guard them with loaded
+arms.  (They are led off--a knocking heard at the gate.)
+
+SENTINEL.  Who is there?
+
+CALCAGNO (without, eagerly).  Open the gate!  A friend! for God's sake,
+open!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  It is Calcagno--heavens!  What can this mean?
+
+FIESCO.  Open the gate, soldiers.
+
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+     The former--CALCAGNO, out of breath.
+
+CALCAGNO.  All is lost! all is lost!  Fly, every one that can!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  What's lost?  Have they flesh of brass?  Are our swords
+made of rushes?
+
+FIESCO.  Consider, Calcagno!  An error now is fatal.
+
+CALCAGNO.  We are betrayed!  Your Moor, Lavagna, is the rascal!  I come
+from the senate-house.  He had an audience of the duke.
+
+VERRINA (with a resolute tone, to the sentinels).  Soldiers! let me rush
+upon your halberts!  I will not perish by the hangman's hands.  (The
+assembly show marks of confusion.)
+
+FIESCO (with firmness).  What are you about?  'Sdeath, Calcagno!
+Friends, 'tis a false alarm.  (To CALCAGNO, aside.)  Woman that thou art
+to tell these boys this tale.  Thou, too, Verrina? and thou, Bourgognino?
+Whither wouldst thou go?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Home--to kill my Bertha--and then return to fall with thee.
+
+FIESCO (bursting into a loud laugh).  Stay! stay!  Is this the valor that
+should punish tyrants?  Well didst thou play thy part, Calcagno.  Did
+none of you perceive that this alarm was my contrivance?  Speak,
+Calcagno?  Was it not my order that you should put these Romans to this
+trial?
+
+VERRINA.  Well, if you can laugh I'll believe you--or never more think
+you man.
+
+FIESCO.  Shame on you, men! to fail in such a boyish trial!  Resume your
+arms--you must fight like lions to atone for this disgrace.  (Aside to
+CALCAGNO.)  Were you there yourself?
+
+CALCAGNO (low).  I made my way among the guards to hear, as was my
+business, the watchword from the duke.  As I was returning the Moor was
+brought----
+
+FIESCO (aloud).  So the old man is gone to bed--we'll drum him out of his
+feathers.  (Low.)  Did he talk long with the duke?
+
+CALCAGNO (low).  My sudden fright and your impending danger drove me away
+in haste----
+
+FIESCO (aloud).  See how our countrymen still tremble.
+
+CALCAGNO (aloud).  You should have carried on the jest.  (Low.)  For
+God's sake, friend, what will this artifice avail us?
+
+FIESCO.  'Twill gain us time, and dissipate the first panic.  (Aloud.)
+Ho! bring wine here!  (Low.)  Did the duke turn pale?  (Aloud.)  Well,
+brothers, let us drink success to this night's entertainment.  (Low.)
+Did the duke turn pale?
+
+CALCAGNO.  The Moor's first word must have been conspiracy; for the old
+man started back as pale as ashes.
+
+FIESCO (confused).  Hum! the devil is an artful counsellor.  Calcagno--
+the Moor was cunning, he betrayed nothing till the knife was at his
+throat.  Now he is indeed their savior.  (Wine is brought, he drinks to
+the assembly.)  Comrades, success!  (A knocking is heard.)
+
+SENTINELS.  Who is without?
+
+A VOICE.  The guard of the duke's.  (The NOBLES rush about the court in
+despair.)
+
+FIESCO (stepping forward).  Oh, my friends!  Be not alarmed!  I am here--
+quick, remove these arms--be men.  I entreat you--this visit makes me
+hope that Andreas still doubts our plot.  Retire into the palace: recall
+your spirits.  Soldiers, throw open the gate!  (They retire, the gates
+are opened.)
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+     FIESCO (as if coming from the palace).  Three GERMAN SOLDIERS
+     bringing the MOOR, bound.
+
+FIESCO.  Who calls me?
+
+GERMANS.  Bring us to the count!
+
+FIESCO.  The count is here, who wants me?
+
+GERMAN (presenting his arms).  Greeting from the duke!--he delivers up to
+your grace this Moor in chains, who had basely slandered you: the rest
+this note will tell.
+
+FIESCO (takes it with an air of indifference).  Have I not threatened
+thee already with the galleys?  (To the GERMAN.)  Very well, my friend,
+my respects to the duke.
+
+MOOR (hallooing after them).  Mine, too--and tell the duke had he not
+employed an ass for his messenger he would have learned that two thousand
+soldiers are concealed within these palace walls.
+
+                                      [Exeunt GERMANS, the NOBLES return.
+
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+     FIESCO, the CONSPIRATORS, MOOR (looking at them unconcerned.)
+
+THE CONSPIRATORS (shuddering at the sight of the MOOR).  Ha! what means
+this?
+
+FIESCO (after reading the note with suppressed anger).  Genoese, the
+danger is past--but the conspiracy is likewise at an end----
+
+VERRINA (astonished).  What!  Are the Dorias dead?
+
+FIESCO (violently agitated).  By heavens!  I was prepared to encounter
+the whole force of the republic, but not this blow.  This old nerveless
+man, with his pen, annihilates three thousand soldiers (his hands sink
+down).  Doria overcomes Fiesco!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Speak, count, we are amazed!
+
+FIESCO (reading).  "Lavagna, your fate resembles mine; benevolence is
+rewarded with ingratitude.  The Moor informs me of a plot: I send him
+back to you in chains, and shall sleep to-night without a guard."  (He
+drops the paper--the rest look at each other.)
+
+VERRINA.  Well, Fiesco?
+
+FIESCO (with dignity).  Shall Doria surpass me in magnanimity?  Shall the
+race of Fiesco want this one virtue?  No, by my honor--disperse--I'll go
+and own the whole----
+
+VERRINA (stopping him).  Art thou mad?  Was, then, our enterprise some
+thievish act of villany?  Was it not our country's cause?  Was Andreas
+the object of thy hatred, and not the tyrant?  Stay!  I arrest thee as a
+traitor to thy country.
+
+CONSPIRATORS.  Bind him! throw him down!
+
+FIESCO (snatching up his sword, and making way through them).  Gently!
+Who will be the first to throw the cord around the tiger?  See, Genoese,
+--I stand here at liberty, and might force my way with ease, had I the
+will--but I will stay--I have other thoughts----
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Are they thoughts of duty?
+
+FIESCO (haughtily).  Ha! boy! learn first to know thy own--and towards me
+restrain that tongue!  Be appeased, Genoese,--our plans remain unaltered.
+(To the MOOR, whose cords he cuts with a sword).  Thou hast the merit of
+causing a noble act--fly!
+
+CALCAGNO (enraged).  What?  Shall that scoundrel live,--he who has
+betrayed us all?
+
+FIESCO.  Live--though he has frightened you all.  Rascal, begone!  See
+that thou turn thy back quickly on Genoa; lest some one immolate thee to
+the manes of his courage.
+
+MOOR.  So, then, the devil does not forsake his friends.  Your servant,
+gentlemen!  I see that Italy does not produce my halter; I must seek it
+elsewhere.
+
+                                          [Exit, laughing.
+
+
+
+SCENE X.
+
+     FIESCO, CONSPIRATORS.  Enter SERVANT.
+
+SERVANT.  The Countess Imperiali has already asked three times for your
+grace.
+
+FIESCO.  Ha! then the comedy must indeed begin!  Tell her I come
+directly.  Desire my wife to hasten to the concert-room, and there remain
+concealed behind the tapestry.  (Exit SERVANT.)  In these papers your
+several stations are appointed: let each but act his part, the plan is
+perfect.  Verrina will lead the forces to the harbor, and when the ships
+are seized will fire a shot as a signal for the general attack.  I now
+leave you upon important business; when you hear the bell come all
+together to my concert-room.  Meanwhile enjoy my Cyprian wine within.
+(They depart into the palace.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XI.
+
+     LEONORA, ARABELLA, and ROSA.
+
+LEONORA.  Fiesco promised to meet me here, and comes not.  'Tis past
+eleven.  The sound of arms and men rings frightfully through the palace,
+and no Fiesco comes.
+
+ROSA.  You are to conceal yourself behind the tapestry--what can the
+count intend?
+
+LEONORA.  He directs and I obey.  Why should I fear?  And yet I tremble,
+Arabella, and my heart beats fearfully with apprehension.  For heaven's
+sake, damsels, do not leave me.
+
+ARABELLA.  Fear nothing; our timidity subdues our curiosity.
+
+LEONORA.  Where'er I turn my eyes strange shapes appear with hollow and
+distracted countenances.  Whomsoever I address trembles like a criminal,
+and withdraws into the thickest gloom of night, that fearful refuge of a
+guilty conscience.  Whate'er they answer falls from the trembling tongue
+in doubtful accents.  Oh, Fiesco! what horrid business dost thou
+meditate?  Ye heavenly powers! watch over my Fiesco!
+
+ROSA (alarmed).  Oh, heavens! what noise is that without?
+
+ARABELLA.  It is the soldier who stands there as sentinel.  (The SENTINEL
+without calls, "Who goes there?")
+
+LEONORA.  Some one approaches.  Quick! behind the curtain.  (They conceal
+themselves.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XII.
+
+     JULIA and FIESCO, in conversation.
+
+JULIA (much agitated).  Forbear, count!  Your passion meets no longer an
+indifferent ear, but fires the raging blood--where am I?  Naught but
+seducing night is here!  Whither has your artful tongue lured my
+unguarded heart?
+
+FIESCO.  To this spot where timid love grows bold, and where emotions
+mingle unrestrained.
+
+JULIA.  Hold, Fiesco!  For Heaven's sake no more!  'Tis the thick veil of
+night alone which covers the burning blushes on my cheeks, else wouldst
+thou pity me.
+
+FIESCO.  Rather, Julia, thy blushes would inflame my passions, and urge
+them to their utmost height.  (Kisses her hand eagerly.)
+
+JULIA.  Thy countenance is glowing as thy words!  Ah! and my own, too,
+burns with guilty fire.  Hence, I entreat thee, hence--let us seek the
+light!  The tempting darkness might lead astray the excited senses, and
+in the absence of the modest day might stir them to rebellion.  Haste, I
+conjure thee, leave this solitude!
+
+FIESCO (more pressing).  Why so alarmed, my love?  Shall the mistress
+fear her slave?
+
+JULIA.  O man, eternal paradox! then are you truly conquerors, when you
+bow as captives before our self-conceit.  Shall I confess, Fiesco?  It
+was my vice alone that could protect my virtue--my pride alone defied
+your artifices--thus far, my principles prevailed, and all your arts were
+foiled--but in despair of every other suit you made appeal to Julia's
+passion--and here my principles deserted me----
+
+FIESCO (with levity).  And what loss was that?
+
+JULIA (with emotion).  If I betray the safeguards of my honor, that thou
+mayest cover me with shame at will, what have I less to lose than all?
+Wouldst thou know more, scoffer?  Shall I confess that the whole secret
+wisdom of our sex is but a sorry precaution for the defence of this weak
+fortress, which in the end is the sole object of assault by all your vows
+and protestations, and which (I blush to own it) is so willingly
+surrendered--so often betrayed to the enemy upon the first wavering of
+virtue?  That woman's whole art is enlisted in fortifying a defenceless
+position, just as in chess the pieces move and form a breastwork round
+the defenceless king?--surprise the latter--check-mate! and the whole
+board is thrown into confusion.  (After a pause--with earnestness),
+behold the picture of our boasting weakness.  Be generous, Fiesco!
+
+FIESCO.  And yet, my Julia--where could'st thou bestow this treasure
+better than on my endless passion?
+
+JULIA.  Certainly, nowhere better, and nowhere worse?  Tell me, Fiesco,
+how long will this endless passion endure?  But, alas! I've risked too
+much already now to hesitate at staking my last.  I trusted boldly to my
+charms to captivate thee--to preserve thy love, I fear they'll prove too
+weak.  Fie upon me!--what am I uttering?  (Hides her face with her
+hands.)
+
+FIESCO.  Two sins in one breath.  Mistrust in my taste, and treason
+against the sovereignty of your charms?  Which of the two is the most
+difficult to forgive?
+
+JULIA (in a tremulous, imploring tone).  Falsehood is the armory of hell!
+Fiesco needs not this to gain his Julia.  (She sinks exhausted on a sofa:
+after a pause--energetically.)  Hear, Fiesco!  One word more.  When we
+know our virtue to be in safety, we are heroines; in its defence, no more
+than children; (fixing her eyes on him wildly)--furies, when we avenge
+it.  Hear me!  Should'st thou strike me to the heart with coldness?
+
+FIESCO (assuming an angry tone).  Coldness? coldness?  Heavens!  What
+does the insatiable vanity of woman look for, if she even doubt the man
+who lies prostrate at her feet?  Ha! my spirit is awakened; my eyes at
+length are opened.  (With an air of coldness.)  What was this mighty
+sacrifice?  Man dearly purchases a woman's highest favors by the
+slightest degradation!  (Bowing ceremoniously.)  Take courage, madam! you
+are safe.
+
+JULIA (with astonishment).  Count! what sudden change is this?
+
+FIESCO (with great indifference).  True, madam!  You judge most rightly;
+we both have risked our honor.  (Bowing ceremoniously.)  I will await the
+pleasure of your company among my guests.  (Going.)
+
+JULIA (stops him).  Stay! art thou mad?  Must I, then, declare a passion
+which the whole race of men, upon their knees, should not extort from my
+inflexible pride?  Alas! in vain the darkness strives to hide the blushes
+which betray my guilt.  Fiesco--I wound the pride of all my sex--my sex
+will all detest me--Fiesco--I adore thee--(falls at his feet).
+
+FIESCO (steps back without raising her, laughing with exultation).  That
+I am sorry for, signora--(rings the bell--draws the tapestry, and
+discovers LEONORA).  Here is my wife--an angel of a woman!  (Embracing
+her.)
+
+JULIA (with a shriek).  Unheard-of treachery!
+
+
+
+SCENE XIII.
+
+     The CONSPIRATORS, entering in a body--LADIES on
+     the other side--FIESCO, JULIA, and LEONORA.
+
+LEONORA.  Oh, my husband, that was too cruel!
+
+FIESCO.  A wicked heart deserved no less.  I owed this satisfaction to
+your tears.  (To the company.)  No,--my friends--I am not wont on every
+slight occasion to kindle into passion.  The follies of mankind amuse me
+long ere they excite my anger; but this woman merits my whole resentment.
+Behold the poison which she had mingled for my beloved Leonora.  (Shows
+the poison to the company--they start with horror.)
+
+JULIA (biting her lips with rage).  Good!  Good!  Very good, Sir!
+(Going.)
+
+FIESCO (leads her back by the arm).  You must have patience, madam;
+something else remains.  My friends, perhaps, would gladly learn why I
+debased my reason with the farce of love for Genoa's silliest coquette.
+
+JULIA (starting up).  It is not to be borne.  But tremble!  Doria rules
+in Genoa, and I am Doria's sister----
+
+FIESCO.  Poor, indeed, if that be your only sting!  Know that Fiesco of
+Lavagna has changed the diadem of your illustrious brother for a halter,
+and means this night to hang the thief of the republic.  (She is struck
+with terror--he continues with a sarcastic laugh.)  Ha! that was
+unexpected.  And do you see, madam, 'twas for this purpose that I tried
+to blind the eyes of the Dorias.  For this I assumed a mock passion--
+(pointing to JULIA.)  For this I cast away this precious jewel--(pointing
+to LEONORA); and by shining bait ensnared my prey.  I thank you for your
+complaisance, signora--(to JULIA;) and resign the trappings of my assumed
+character.  (Delivers her the miniature with a bow.)
+
+LEONORA (to FIESCO, in a supplicating tone).  She weeps, my Lodovico.
+May your Leonora, trembling, entreat you?
+
+JULIA (enraged, to LEONORA).  Silence, detested woman!
+
+FIESCO (to a SERVANT).  Be polite to my friend; escort this lady.  She
+has a mind to see my prison-chamber--take care that none approach to
+incommode her.  The night air is blowing somewhat keenly, the storm which
+rives the house of Doria may, perchance, ruffle the lady's head-dress.
+
+JULIA.  Curses on thee, black, detested hypocrite!  (Enraged, to
+LEONORA.)  Rejoice not at thy triumph!  He will destroy thee also, and
+himself--and then despair!  (Rushing out!)
+
+FIESCO (to the guests).  You were witnesses; let your report in Genoa
+preserve my honor.  (To the CONSPIRATORS.)  Call on me as soon as the
+cannon gives the signal.  (All the guests retire.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XIV.
+
+     LEONORA and FIESCO.
+
+LEONORA (approaching with anxiety).  Fiesco! Fiesco!  I understand but
+half your meaning; yet I begin to tremble.
+
+FIESCO (significantly).  Leonora!  I once saw you yield the place of
+honor to another.  I saw you, in the presence of the nobles, receive the
+second compliment.  Leonora, that sight tormented me.  I resolved it
+should be so no longer.  Henceforth it ceases.  Do you hear the warlike
+noise which echoes through my palace?  What you suspect is true.  Retire
+to rest, countess, to-morrow you shall awake Duchess of Genoa.
+
+LEONORA (clasping her hands together, and throwing herself into a chair).
+O God!  My very fears!  I am undone!
+
+FIESCO (seriously, and with dignity).  Let me speak out, my love.  Two of
+my ancestors wore the triple crown.  The blood of the Fiescos flows not
+pure unless beneath the purple.  Shall your husband only reflect a
+borrowed splendor?  (In a more energetic manner.)  What! shall he owe his
+rank alone to capricious chance, which, from the ashes of mouldering
+greatness, has patched together a John Louis Fiesco?  No, Leonora, I am
+too proud to accept from others what my own powers may achieve.  This
+night the hereditary titles of my ancestors shall return to deck their
+tombs--Lavagna's counts exist no longer--a race of princes shall begin.
+
+LEONORA (mournfully, and giving way to imagination).  I see my husband
+fall, transfixed by deadly wounds.  (In a hollow voice.)  I see them bear
+my husband's mangled corpse towards me.  (Starting up.)  The first--the
+only ball has pierced Fiesco's heart.
+
+FIESCO (tenderly seizing her hand).  Be calm, my love.  The only ball
+will not strike me.
+
+LEONORA (looking steadfastly at him).  Does Fiesco so confidently
+challenge Heaven?  If, in the scope of countless possibilities, one
+chance alone were adverse, that one might happen, and I should lose my
+husband.  Think that thou venturest Heaven, Fiesco; and though a million
+chances were in thy favor, wouldst thou dare tempt the Almighty by
+risking on a cast thy hopes of everlasting happiness?  No, my husband!
+When thy whole being is at stake each throw is blasphemy.
+
+FIESCO.  Be not alarmed.  Fortune and I are better friends.
+
+LEONORA.  Ah! say you so, Fiesco?  You, who have watched the
+soul-convulsing game, which some call pastime?  Have you not seen
+the sly deceiver, Fortune, how she leads on her votary with gradual
+favors, till, heated with success, he rushes headlong and stakes his all
+upon a single cast?  Then in the decisive moment she forsakes him, a
+victim of his rashness--and stood you then unmoved?  Oh, my husband,
+think not that thou hast but to show thyself among the people to be
+adored.  'Tis no slight task to rouse republicans from their slumber and
+turn them loose, like the unbridled steed, just conscious of his hoofs.
+Trust not those traitors.  They among them who are most discerning, even
+while they instigate thy valor, fear it; the vulgar worship thou with
+senseless and unprofitable adoration.  Whichever way I look Fiesco is
+undone.
+
+FIESCO (pacing the room in great emotion).  To be irresolute is the most
+certain danger.  He that aspires to greatness must be daring.
+
+LEONORA.  Greatness, Fiesco!  Alas! thy towering spirit ill accords with
+the fond wishes of my heart.  Should fortune favor thy attempt--shouldst
+thou obtain dominion--alas!  I then shall be but the more wretched.
+Condemned to misery shouldst thou fail--if thou succeed, to misery still
+greater.  Here is no choice but evil.  Unless he gain the ducal power,
+Fiesco perishes--if I embrace the duke I lose my husband.
+
+FIESCO.  I understand you not.
+
+LEONORA.  Ah! my Fiesco, in the stormy atmosphere that surrounds a throne
+the tender plant of love must perish.  The heart of man, e'en were that
+heart Fiesco's, is not vast enough for two all-powerful idols--idols so
+hostile to each other.  Love has tears, and can sympathize with tears.
+Ambition has eyes of stone, from which no drop of tenderness can e'er
+distil.  Love has but one favored object, and is indifferent to all the
+world beside.  Ambition, with insatiable hunger, rages amid the spoil
+of nature, and changes the immense world into one dark and horrid
+prison-house.  Love paints in every desert an elysium.  And when thou
+wouldest recline upon my bosom, the cares of empires, or rebellious
+vassals, would fright away repose.  If I should throw myself into thy
+arms, thy despot fears would hear a murderer rushing forth to strike
+thee, and urge thy trembling flight through all the palace.  Nay, black
+suspicion would at last o'erwhelm domestic concord.  If thy Leonora's
+tenderness should offer thee a refreshing draught, thou wouldst with
+horror push away the goblet, and call it poison----
+
+FIESCO (starting).  Leonora, cease!  These thoughts are dreadful.
+
+LEONORA.  And yet the picture is not finished.  Let love be sacrificed to
+greatness--and even peace of mind--if Fiesco but remained unchanged.  O
+God! that thought is racking torture.  Seldom do angels ascend the
+throne--still seldomer do they descend it such.  Can he know pity who is
+raised above the common fears of man?  Will he speak the accents of
+compassion who at every wish can launch a bolt of thunder to enforce it.
+(She stops, then timidly advances, and takes his hand with a look of
+tender reproach.)  Princes, Fiesco--these abortions of ambition and
+weakness--who presume to sit in judgment 'twixt the godhead and
+mortality.  Wicked servants--worse rulers.
+
+FIESCO (walking about much agitated).  Leonora, cease!  The bridge is
+raised behind me----
+
+LEONORA (with a look of tenderness).  And why, my husband?  Deeds alone
+are irrevocable.  Thou once didst swear (fondly clinging to him, and
+somewhat archly) that all thy projects vanished before my beauty.  Thou
+hast foresworn thyself, dissembler--or else my charms have prematurely
+withered.  Ask thy own heart where lies the blame?  (More ardently, and
+throwing her arms round him.)  Return, Fiesco!  Conquer thyself!
+Renounce!  Love shall indemnify thee.  O Fiesco, if my heart cannot
+appease thy insatiate passions, the diadem will be found still poorer.
+Come, I'll study the inmost wishes of this soul.  I will melt into one
+kiss of love all the charms of nature, to retain forever in these
+heavenly bonds the illustrious captive.  As thy heart is infinite, so
+shall be my passion.  To be a source of happiness to a being who places
+all its heaven in thee, Fiesco?  Ought that to leave any void in thy
+heart.
+
+FIESCO (with great emotion).  Leonora--what hast thou done?  (He falls,
+overcome, on her neck.)  I shall never more dare to meet the eyes of
+Genoa's citizens.
+
+LEONORA (with lively expression).  Let us fly, Fiesco! let us with scorn
+reject these gaudy nothings, and pass our future days only in the
+retreats of love!  (She presses him to her breast with rapture.)  Our
+souls, serene as the unclouded sky, shall never more be blackened by the
+poisonous breath of sorrow; our lives shall flow harmoniously as the
+music of the murmuring brook.  (A cannon-shot is heard--FIESCO disengages
+himself--all the conspirators enter.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XV.
+
+CONSPIRATORS.  The hour is come!
+
+FIESCO (to LEONORA, firmly).  Farewell! forever unless Genoa to-morrow be
+laid prostrate at thy feet.  (Going to rush out.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO (cries out).  The countess faints!  (LEONORA in a swoon--all
+run to support her.)
+
+FIESCO (kneeling before her, in a tone of despair).  Leonora!  Save her!
+For heaven's sake save her!  (ROSA and ARABELLA run to her assistance.)
+She lives--she opens her eyes (jumps up resolutely).  Now to close
+Doria's!  (Conspirators rush out.)
+
+
+
+
+ACT V.
+
+SCENE I.-After midnight.  The great street of Genoa.  A few lamps, which
+gradually become extinguished.  In the background is seen the Gate of St.
+Thomas, which is shut.  Men pass over the stage with lanterns.  The
+patrol go their round.  Afterwards, everything is quiet except the waves
+of the sea, which are heard at a distance, rather tempestuous.
+
+     FIESCO (armed, before the Doria Palace), and ANDREAS.
+
+FIESCO.  The old man has kept his word.  The lights are all extinguished
+in the palace--the guards dismissed--I'll ring.  (Rings at the gate.)
+Ho! Halloo!  Awake, Doria!  Thou art betrayed.  Awake! Halloo! Halloo!
+
+ANDREAS (appearing at the balcony).  Who rings there?
+
+FIESCO (in a feigned voice).  Ask not, but follow me!  Duke, thy star has
+set; Genoa is in arms against thee!  Thy executioners are near, and canst
+thou sleep, Andreas?
+
+ANDREAS (with dignity).  I remember when the raging sea contended with my
+gallant vessel--when her keel cracked and the wind split her topmast.
+Yet Andreas Doria then slept soundly.  Who sends these executioners!
+
+FIESCO.  A man more terrible than your raging sea--John Louis Fiesco.
+
+ANDREAS (laughs).  You jest, my friend.  Come in the daytime to play your
+tricks.  Midnight suits them badly.
+
+FIESCO.  Dost thou then despise thy monitor?
+
+ANDREAS.  I thank him and retire to rest.  Fiesco, wearied with his
+rioting, sleeps, and has no time to think of Doria.
+
+FIESCO.  Wretched old man!  Trust not the artful serpent!  Its back is
+decked with beauteous colors; but when you would approach to view it you
+are suddenly entwined within its deadly folds.  You despised the
+perfidious Moor.  Do not despise the counsels of a friend.  A horse
+stands ready saddled for you; fly, while you have time!
+
+ANDREAS.  Fiesco has a noble mind.  I never injured him, and he will not
+betray me.
+
+FIESCO.  Fiesco has a noble mind and yet betrays thee.  He gives thee
+proof of both.
+
+ANDREAS.  There is a guard, which would defy Fiesco's power, unless he
+led against them legions of spirits.
+
+FIESCO (scornfully).  That guard I should be glad to see to despatch it
+with a message for eternity.
+
+ANDREAS (in an elevated manner).  Vain scoffer!  Knowest thou not that
+Andreas has seen his eightieth year, and that Genoa beneath his rule is
+happy?  (Leaves the balcony.)
+
+FIESCO (looks after him with astonishment).  Must I then destroy this man
+before I have learnt how difficult it is to equal him?  (He walks up and
+down some time in meditation).  'Tis past, Andreas.  I have repaid the
+debt of greatness.  Destruction take thy course!  (He hastens into a
+remote street.  Drums are heard on all sides.  A hot engagement at the
+St. Thomas' Gate.  The gate is forced, and opens a prospect in the
+harbor, in which lie several ships with lights on board.)
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+     GIANETTINO (in a scarlet mantle).  LOMELLINO--(Servants going
+     before them with torches).
+
+GIANETTINO (stops).  Who was it that commanded the alarm to be beat?
+
+LOMELLINO.  A cannon was fired on board one of the galleys.
+
+GIANETTINO.  The slaves perhaps have risen in mutiny.  (Firing heard at
+the gate of St. Thomas.)
+
+LOMELLINO.  Hark!  A shot!
+
+GIANETTINO.  The gate is open.  The guards are in confusion.  (To the
+servants.)  Quick, rascals!  Light us to the harbor.  (Proceeding hastily
+towards the gate.)
+
+
+
+SCENE III.
+
+     The former; BOURGOGNINO, with some CONSPIRATORS, coming
+     from the gate of St. Thomas.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Sebastian Lascaro was a brave soldier.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  He defended himself like a bear till he fell.
+
+GIANETTINO (steps back startled).  What do I hear? (to his servants).
+Stop!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Who goes there with torches?
+
+LOMELLINO (to GIANETTINO).  Prince, they are enemies.  Turn to the left.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (calls to then peremptorily).  Who goes there with the
+torches?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Stand!  Your watchword?
+
+GIANETTINO (draws his sword fiercely).  Loyalty and Doria!
+
+BOURGOGNINO (foaming with rage).  Violator of the republic and of my
+bride!  (To the CONSPIRATORS, rushing upon GIANETTINO.)  Brothers, this
+shortens our labor.  His devils themselves deliver him into our hands--
+(runs him through with his sword).
+
+GIANETTINO (falling).  Murder! Murder! Murder!  Revenge me, Lomellino----
+
+LOMELLINO and SERVANTS (flying).  Help! Murder! Murder!
+
+ZENTURIONE (halloing with vehemence).  Doria is down.  Stop the Count
+Lomellino!  (LOMELLINO is taken).
+
+LOMELLINO (kneeling).  Spare but my life, I'll join your party.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (looking at GIANETTINO).  Is this monster yet alive?  Let the
+coward fly.  (LOMELLINO escapes.)
+
+ZENTURIONE.  St. Thomas' gate our own!  Gianettino slain!  Haste some of
+you and tell Fiesco.
+
+GIANETTINO (heaving himself from the ground in agony).  Fiesco!
+Damnation!  (Dies.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO (pulling the sword out of GIANETTINO'S body).  Freedom to
+Genoa, and to my Bertha.  Your sword, Zenturione.  Take to my bride this
+bloody weapon--her dungeon is thrown open.  I'll follow thee, and bring
+the bridal kiss.  (They separate through different streets.)
+
+
+
+SCENE IV.
+
+     ANDREAS DORIA, GERMANS.
+
+GERMAN.  The storm drove that way.  Mount your horse, duke!
+
+ANDREAS.  Let me cast a parting look at Genoa's towers!  No; it is not a
+dream.  Andreas is betrayed.
+
+GERMAN.  The enemy is all around us.  Away! Fly!  Beyond the boundaries!
+
+ANDREAS (throwing himself upon the dead body of his nephew).  Here will I
+die.  Let no one talk of flight.  Here lies the prop of my old age--my
+career is ended.  (CALCAGNO appears at a distance, with CONSPIRATORS.)
+
+GERMAN.  Danger is near.  Fly, prince!  (Drums beat.)
+
+ANDREAS.  Hark, Germans, bark!  These are the Genoese whose chains I
+broke.  (Hiding his face.)  Do your countrymen thus recompense their
+benefactors?
+
+GERMAN.  Away!  Away! while we stay here, and notch their swords upon our
+German bones.  (CALCAGNO comes nearer.)
+
+ANDREAS.  Save yourselves!  Leave me! and go, declare the horrid story to
+the shuddering nations that Genoa slew its father----
+
+GERMAN.  Slew!  'Sdeath, that shall not be.  Comrades, stand firm!
+Surround the duke!  (They draw their swords.)  Teach these Italian dogs
+to reverence his gray head----
+
+CALCAGNO (calls out).  Who goes there?  What have we here?
+
+GERMAN.  German blows--(retreat fighting, and carry off the body of
+GIANETTINO.)
+
+
+
+SCENE V.
+
+     LEONORA, in male attire, ARABELLA following--
+     they walk along timidly.
+
+ARABELLA.  Come, my lady, pray let us hasten onward.
+
+LEONORA.  This way the tumult rages--hark! was not that a dying groan?
+Ah, they surround him!  At Fiesco's breast they point their fatal
+muskets--at my breast they point them.  Hold! hold!  It is my husband!
+(Throws her arms up in agony.)
+
+ARABELLA.  For heaven's sake, my lady!
+
+LEONORA (with wild enthusiasm, calling on all sides).  O my Fiesco! my
+Fiesco!  His firmest friends desert him.  The faith of rebels is unsteady
+(shuddering).  Rebels!  Heaven?  Is Fiesco, then, a chief of rebels?
+
+ARABELLA.  No, signora.  He is the great deliverer of Genoa.
+
+LEONORA (emphatically).  Ha! that would indeed be glorious!  And shall
+Leonora tremble?--shall the bravest republican be wedded to the most
+timid woman?  Go, Arabella!  When men contend for empires even a woman's
+soul may kindle into valor.  (Drums again heard.)  I'll rush among the
+combatants.
+
+ARABELLA (clasping her hands together).  All gracious heaven!
+
+LEONORA.  Softly!  What strikes my foot?  Here is a hat--and here a
+mantle!  A sword, too! (she lifts it up)--a heavy sword, my Arabella; but
+I can carry it, and the sword shall not disgrace its bearer.  (The
+alarm-bell sounds.)
+
+ARABELLA.  Hark! hark!  How terrible it sounds yonder, from the tower of
+the Dominicans!  God have mercy on us!
+
+LEONORA (enthusiastically).  Rather say, how delightful!  In the majestic
+sound of this alarm-bell my Fiesco speaks to Genoa.  (Drums are heard
+louder.)  Ha! did flutes so sweetly strike my ear.  Even these drums are
+animated by Fiesco.  My heart beats higher.  All Genoa is roused; the
+very mercenaries follow his name with transport--and shall his wife be
+fearful?  (Alarm-bells from three other towers.)  No--my hero shall
+embrace a heroine.  My Brutus clasp within his arms a Roman wife.  I'll
+be his Portia.  (Putting on GIANETTINO'S hat and throwing his scarlet
+mantle round her.)
+
+ARABELLA.  My gracious lady, how wildly do you rave.  (Alarm-bells and
+drums are heard.)
+
+LEONORA.  Cold-blooded wretch; canst thou see and hear all this, and yet
+not rave?  The very stones are ready to weep that they have not feet to
+run and join Fiesco.  These palaces upbraid the builder, who had laid
+their foundations so firmly in the earth that they cannot fly to join
+Fiesco.  The very shores, were they able, would forsake their office in
+order to follow his glorious banner, though by so doing they abandoned
+Genoa to the mercy of the ocean.  What might shake death himself out of
+his leaden sleep has not power to rouse thy courage?  Away!  I'll find my
+way alone.
+
+ARABELLA.  Great God!  You will not act thus madly?
+
+LEONORA (with heroic haughtiness).  Weak girl!  I will. (With great
+animation.)  Where the tumult rages the most fiercely.  Where Fiesco
+himself leads on the combat.  Methinks I hear them ask, "Is that Lavagna,
+the unconquered hero, who with his sword decides the fate of Genoa?  Is
+that Lavagna?"  Yes, I will say; yes, Genoese, that is Lavagna; and that
+Lavagna is my husband!
+
+SACCO (entering with CONSPIRATORS).  Who goes there--Doria or Fiesco?
+
+LEONORA (with enthusiasm).  Fiesco and liberty.  (Retires into another
+street. A tumult, ARABELLA lost in the crowd.)
+
+
+
+SCENE VI.
+
+     SACCO, with a number of followers. CALCAGNO,
+     meeting him with others.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Andreas has escaped.
+
+SACCO.  Unwelcome tidings to Fiesco.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Those Germans fight like furies! They planted themselves
+around the old man like rocks.  I could not even get a glimpse of him.
+Nine of our men are done for; I myself was slightly wounded.  Zounds! If
+they thus serve a foreign tyrant, how will they guard the princes of
+their country?
+
+SACCO.  Numbers have flocked already to our standard, and all the gates
+are ours.
+
+CALCAGNO.  I hear they still are fighting desperately at the citadel.
+
+SACCO.  Bourgognino is amongst them.  Where is Verrina?
+
+CALCAGNO.  He guards, like Cerberus, the passage between Genoa and the
+sea--an anchovy could scarcely pass him.
+
+SACCO.  I'll rouse the suburbs----
+
+CALCAGNO.  I'll away to the market-place.  Drummers, strike up!  (They
+march off, drums beating.)
+
+
+
+SCENE VII.
+
+     MOOR.  A troop of THIEVES, with lighted matches.
+
+MOOR.  Now I'll let you into a secret, my boys; 'twas I that cooked this
+soup, but the devil a spoonful do they give me.  Well, I care not.  This
+hubbub is just to my taste.  We'll set about burning and plundering.
+While they are squabbling for a dukedom we'll make a bonfire in the
+churches that shall warm the frozen apostles.  (They disperse themselves
+among the neighboring houses.)
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII.
+
+     BOURGOGNINO--BERTHA, disguised as a boy.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Rest here, dear youth; thou art in safety.  Dost thou
+bleed?
+
+BERTHA (in a feigned voice).  No; not at all.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (with energy).  Rise, then, I'll lead thee where thou mayst
+gain wounds for Genoa--wounds beautiful like these.  (Uncovering his
+arm.)
+
+BERTHA (starting).  Heavens!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Art thou frightened, youth?  Too early didst thou put on
+the man.  What age hast thou?
+
+BERTHA.  Fifteen years.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  That is unfortunate!  For this night's business thou art
+five years too young.  Who is thy father?
+
+BERTHA.  The truest citizen in Genoa.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Gently, boy!  That name belongs alone to the father of my
+betrothed bride.  Dost thou know the house of Verrina?
+
+BERTHA.  I should think so.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (eagerly).  And knowest thou his lovely daughter?
+
+BERTHA.  Her name is Bertha.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Go, quickly!  Carry her this ring.  Say it shall be our
+wedding-ring; and tell her the blue crest fights bravely.  Now farewell!
+I must hasten yonder.  The danger is not yet over.  (Some houses are seen
+on fire.)
+
+BERTHA (in a soft voice).  Scipio!
+
+BOURGOGNINO (struck with astonishment).  By my sword! I know that voice.
+
+BERTHA (falling upon his neck).  By my heart!  I am well known here.
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Bertha!  (Alarm-bells sound in the suburbs--a tumult--
+BOURGOGNINO and BERTHA embrace, and are lost in the crowd.) [NOTE]
+
+
+[NOTE]  In lieu of this scene Schiller substituted the following, during
+his stay at Leipzig in 1786, for the use of the theatre there:--
+
+     A subterranean vault, lighted by a single lamp.  The background
+     remains quite dark.  BERTHA is discovered sitting on a stone in
+     the foreground; a black veil covers her face.  After a pause she
+     rises and walks to and fro.
+
+BERTHA.  Still no sound?  No sign of human footstep?  No approach of
+my deliverers.  Horrible suspense!  Fearful and hopeless as that of
+one buried alive beneath the sod of the churchyard.  And for what dost
+thou sit, poor deceived one?  An inviolable oath immures thee in this
+dungeon.  Gianettino Doria must fall, and Genoa be free, or Bertha left
+to pine away her miserable existence, such was my father's oath.
+Fearful prison-house to which there is no key but the death-groan of a
+well-guarded tyrant.  (Looking round the vault)  How awful is this
+stillness! terrible as the silence of the grave!  How fearfully the
+darkness creeps from yonder vaults!  My lamp, too, is flickering in its
+socket.  (Walking up and down energetically).  Oh, come, come, my
+beloved, 'tis horrible to die here.  (A pause--then she starts up and
+rushes to and fro wringing her hands to deep despair.)  He has forsaken
+me.  He has broken his oath.  He has forgotten his Bertha.  The living
+think not of the dead, and this vault is my tomb.  Hope no more, wretched
+one.  Hope flourishes only where the eye of the Almighty pervades--into
+this dungeon it never penetrates.  (Again a pause; she becomes still more
+alarmed.)
+
+Or have my deliverers perished?  Perchance the bold attempt has failed,
+the danger has overwhelmed the courageous youth.  O unhappy Bertha,
+perhaps even now their ghosts are wandering through these vaults, and
+weep over thy vain hopes.  (Shuddering.)  Heavens! if they are dead I am
+irrevocably lost, irrevocably abandoned to a horrible death.  (Leans
+against the wall for support.  After a pause she continues despondingly.)
+And if my beloved one still lives--if he should return to keep his word,
+to fetch his bride away in triumph, and find all here lonely and silent,
+and the inanimate corpse no longer sensible to his transports--when his
+burning kisses shall in vain endeavor to restore the life which has fled
+from these lips, and his tears flow on me hopelessly--when my father
+shall sink weeping on the body of his daughter, and the voice of his
+lamentations echo through the regions of my prison-house.  Oh, then
+repeat not to them my complaints, ye walls!  Tell them that I suffered
+like a heroine, and that my last sigh was forgiveness.  (Sinks exhausted
+on the stone--pause--a confused sound of drums and bells is heard from
+behind the stage in various directions.  BERTHA starts to her feet.)
+Hark! what means this?  Am I awake, or do I dream?  How dreadfully the
+bells clang!  That is no sound of ringing to prayers.  (The noise comes
+nearer and increases; she rushes to and fro alarmed.)  Louder and louder
+yet!  Heavens, they are alarm-bells! they are alarm-bells!  Have enemies
+surprised the city?  Is Genoa in flames?  A wild and dreadful din, like
+the trampling of myriads!  What's that?  (Someone knocks loudly at the
+door.)  They cone this way--they draw the bolts--(rushing towards the
+background).  Men!  Men!  Liberty!  Deliverance!  (BOURGOGNINO enters
+hastily with a drawn sword, followed by several torch-bearers.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO (calling out loudly).  Thou art free, Bertha!  The tyrant is
+dead!  This sword has passed through his heart.
+
+BERTHA (running into his arms).  My deliverer! my angel!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Dost thou hear the alarm-bells, and the roll of the drums?
+Fiesco has conquered, Genoa is free, and thy father's curse annihilated.
+
+BERTHA.  Oh, heavens!  This dreadful uproar, these alarm-bells, then,
+were for me?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  For thee, Bertha!  They are our marriage chimes.  Leave
+this horrid dungeon and follow me to the altar.
+
+BERTHA.  To the altar, Bourgognino?  Now, at this midnight hour?  While
+this awful tumult is raging as though the whole globe were crushing to
+atoms!  (VERRINA enters unperceived, and remains standing silently at the
+entrance.)
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  In this beautiful, glorious night, in which all Genoa
+celebrates its freedom, as a bond of love this sword, still dyed with the
+tyrant's blood, shall be my wedding gear--this hand, still warm from the
+heroic deed, the priest shall lay in thine.  Fear not my love, and follow
+me to the church.  (VERRINA approaches, steps between both, and embraces
+them.)
+
+VERRINA.  God bless you, my children!
+
+BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (falling at his feet).  O my father!
+
+VERRINA (lays his hands on them both--a pause--then he turns solemnly to
+BOURGOGNINO).  Never forget how dearly thou hast won her.  Never forget
+that thy marriage dates from the day of Genoa's freedom.  (Turning
+towards BERTHA in a grave and dignified manner.)  Thou art the daughter
+of Verrina, and 'twas thy husband slew the tyrant.  (After a pause he
+beckons them to rise, and says, with suppressed emotion.)  The priest
+awaits you.
+
+BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (together).  How, my father?  Will you not
+accompany us thither?
+
+VERRINA (very gravely).  A terrible duty calls me elsewhere; my prayers
+shall accompany you.  (Drums and trumpets, intermixed with acclamations,
+are heard in the distance.)  What means this shouting?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  They are proclaiming Fiesco duke.  The populace adore him,
+and with eager acclamations brought him the purple; the nobles looked on
+with dismay, but dared not refuse their sanction.
+
+VERRINA (laughs bitterly).  You see, my son, I must away with speed to be
+the first to tender the oath of allegiance to the new monarch.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (holds him back alarmed).  What is your purpose!  I'll go
+with you.
+
+BERTHA (hanging anxiously on BOURGOGNINO).  Heavens! what means this,
+Bourgognino?  What is my father meditating?
+
+VERRINA.  My son, I have converted all my possessions into gold, and have
+conveyed it on board thy ship.  Take thy bride and embark without delay.
+Perhaps I shall soon follow, perhaps never.  Hasten to Marseilles, and
+(embracing them with emotion) God be with you.
+
+BOURGOGNINO (determinedly).  Verrina, I must stay; the danger is not yet
+past.
+
+VERRINA (leading him towards BERTHA).  Look to thy bride, thou proud,
+insatiable one.  Thou hast despatched thy tyrant, leave me to deal with
+mine.  [Exeunt.
+
+
+
+SCENE IX.
+
+     FIESCO and ZIBO from different sides.  Attendants.
+
+FIESCO (in great anger).  Who set fire to those houses?
+
+ZIBO.  The citadel is taken.
+
+FIESCO.  Who set those houses on fire?
+
+ZIBO (to the attendants).  Despatch a guard to apprehend the villains.
+(Some soldiers go.)
+
+FIESCO.  Will they make me an incendiary?  Hasten with the engines!
+(Attendants go.)  But are you sure that Gianettino has fallen?
+
+ZIBO.  So they say.
+
+FIESCO (wildly).  They say so only!  Who say?  Declare, upon your honor,
+has he escaped?
+
+ZIBO (doubtfully).  If I may trust my eyes against the assertion of a
+nobleman, then--Gianettino lives.
+
+FIESCO (starting).  Zibo, your eyes may cost your head----
+
+ZIBO.  'Tis but eight minutes since I saw him in the crowd dressed in his
+scarlet cloak and yellow plume.
+
+FIESCO (wildly).  Heaven and hell!  Zibo!  Bourgognino shall answer for
+it with his head.  Hasten, Zibo! secure the barriers.  Sink all the boats
+that he may not escape by sea.  This diamond, Zibo--the richest in all
+Italy--this diamond shall reward the man who brings me tidings of
+Gianettino's death.  (ZIBO hastens away.)  Fly, Zibo!
+
+
+
+SCENE X.
+
+     FIESCO, SACCO, the MOOR, SOLDIERS.
+
+SACCO.  We found this Moor throwing a lighted match into the convent of
+the Jesuits.
+
+FIESCO.  Thy treachery was overlooked when it concerned myself alone.
+The halter awaits the incendiary.  Take him away and hang him at the
+church-door.
+
+MOOR.  Plague on it! that's an awkward piece of business.  Is there no
+way out of it?
+
+FIESCO.  No.
+
+MOOR.  Send me awhile to the galleys----
+
+FIESCO (beckoning to the attendants).  To the gallows.
+
+MOOR (impudently).  Then I'll turn Christian.
+
+FIESCO.  The church refuses the dregs of infidelity.
+
+MOOR (in an insinuating manner).  At least send me drunk into eternity!
+
+FIESCO.  Sober.
+
+MOOR.  Don't hang me up, however, beside a Christian church!
+
+FIESCO.  A man of honor keeps his word.  I promised thee a gallows of
+thy own.
+
+SACCO.  No more prating, heathen! we've business of more consequence.
+
+MOOR.  But, stay!  Perhaps the rope may break?
+
+FIESCO (to SACCO).  Let it be double.
+
+MOOR.  Well, if it must be so, the devil may make ready for an extra
+guest.  (Soldiers lead him off, and hang him at a little distance.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XI.
+
+     FIESCO--LEONORA appearing at a distance, in the scarlet
+     cloak of GIANETTINO.
+
+FIESCO (perceiving her, rushes forward--then stops).  Do I know that
+crest and mantle?  (Rushes on furiously.)  Yes, I know them.  (Runs her
+through with his sword.)  If thou hast three lives then rise again.
+(LEONORA falls with a hollow groan, the march of victory is heard, with
+drums, horns, and hautboys.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XII.
+
+     FIESCO, CALCAGNO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO:
+     SOLDIERS, with drums and colors.
+
+FIESCO (advancing towards them in triumph).  Genoese--the die is cast.
+Here lies the viper of my soul, the abhorred food of my resentment.  Lift
+high your swords!  Gianettino is no more!
+
+CALCAGNO.  And I come to inform you that two-thirds of Genoa have
+declared for our party, and swear obedience to Fiesco's standard.
+
+ZIBO.  By me Verrina sends his greeting to you from the admiral's galley,
+with the dominion of the sea.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  By me the governor of the city sends his keys and staff of
+office.
+
+SACCO.  And in me (kneeling) the less and greater senate of the republic
+kneel down before their master, and supplicate for favor and protection.
+
+CALCAGNO.  Let me be the first to welcome the illustrious conquerer
+within the walls.  Bow your colors!  Hail, Duke of Genoa!
+
+ALL (taking off their hats).  Hail! Hail, Duke of Genoa!  (March of
+triumph--FIESCO stands the whole time with his head sunk upon his breast,
+in a meditating posture.)
+
+CALCAGNO.  The people and the senate wait to see their gracious sovereign
+invested in the robes of dignity.  Great duke, permit us to follow you in
+triumph to the senate-house.
+
+FIESCO.  First allow me to listen to the dictates of my heart.  I was
+obliged to leave a most dear person in anxious apprehension--a person who
+will share with me the glory of this night.  (To the company.)  Will you,
+my friends, attend me to your amiable duchess!  (Going.)
+
+CALCAGNO.  Shall this murderous villain lie here, and hide his infamy in
+obscurity?
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Plant his head upon a halberd.
+
+ZIBO.  Let his mangled carcass sweep the streets!  (They hold lights
+toward the body.)
+
+CALCAGNO (terrified and in a low voice).  Look, Genoese!  By heavens,
+this is not the face of Gianettino!  (All look at the body.)
+
+FIESCO (fixes his eyes upon it with an eager look, which he withdraws
+slowly--then, with convulsive wildness, exclaims).  No! ye devils!  That
+is not the face of Gianettino--Oh, malicious fiend!  Genoa is mine, say
+you?  Mine?  (Rushing forward with a dreadful shriek.)  Oh, trickery of
+hell!  It is my wife!  (He sinks to the ground in agony--The CONSPIRATORS
+stand around in groups, shuddering--a dead silence.)
+
+FIESCO (raising himself exhausted--in a faint voice).  But tell me truly,
+Genoese, have I indeed slain my wife?  I conjure you look not so ghastly
+upon this illusion!  Heaven be praised! there are fates which man has not
+to fear, because he is but man.  This must be one of them.  He who is
+denied the joys of heaven can scarce be doomed to bear the pains of hell.
+This dread infliction would be even more.  God be praised!  It must be
+so.  And this is naught but the chimera of a disordered brain.
+
+
+
+SCENE XIII.
+
+     The former--ARABELLA enters weeping.
+
+ARABELLA.  Let them kill me!  What have I now to dread?  Have pity on me,
+Genoese.  'Twas here I left my dearest mistress, and nowhere can I find
+her.
+
+FIESCO (approaching her--with a low and trembling voice.)  Was Leonora
+thy mistress?
+
+ARABELLA (with pleasure).  Are you there, my most gracious and dear good
+lord?  Be not displeased with us.  We could no longer restrain her.
+
+FIESCO (in alarm).  Restrain her!  Wretch!  From what?
+
+ARABELLA.  From following----
+
+FIESCO (violently).  Ha!  From following what?
+
+ARABELLA.  The tumult----
+
+FIESCO.  What was her dress?
+
+ARABELLA.  A Scarlet mantle.
+
+FIESCO (in a transport of rage).  Get thee to the abyss of hell!  The
+mantle?
+
+ARABELLA.  Lay here upon the ground.
+
+SOME OF THE CONSPIRATORS (talking apart).  'Twas here that Gianettino was
+killed.
+
+FIESCO (ready to faint, to ARABELLA).  Thy mistress is found--(ARABELLA
+advances anxiously--FIESCO casts his eyes round the whole circle--then,
+with a faltering voice)--'Tis true--'Tis true--And I am the instrument of
+this horrid deed.  (Madly.)  Back! back! ye human forms!  Oh! (gnashing
+his teeth wildly, and looking up toward heaven) had I but this created
+orb between my teeth--I feel as though I could tear the universe to
+fragments, till nature's face was hideous as the pain that gnaws my soul!
+(To the others, that stand around, trembling.)  See, how they stand
+aghast there, miserable creatures! blessing themselves and rejoicing that
+they are not as I am.  I alone feel the blow.  (Wildly.)  I!--why I?  Why
+not these as well?  Why is my sorrow denied the balm of being shared with
+others?
+
+CALCAGNO (timidly).  Most gracious duke!
+
+FIESCO (rushes on hint with a look of fiendlike joy).  Ha!  Welcome!
+Here, Heaven be thanked, is one whom the same thunderbolt has struck!
+(Pressing CALCAGNO furiously in his arms.)  Brother of my sorrows!
+Welcome to your share of destruction!  She's dead.  Didst thou not also
+love her?  (Forcing him toward the dead body.)  Behold her and despair!
+She's dead.  (Fixing his eyes earnestly on one part of the stage.)  Oh,
+that I could stand upon the brink of the infernal gulf, and view below
+all hell's variety of torments!--could hear the horrid shrieks of damned
+souls!  (Approaching the body, trembling.)  Here lies my murdered wife.
+Nay--that says too little--the wife that I myself have murdered.  Oh!
+'Tis the cunningest of hell's devices--first I was allured to the topmost
+pinnacle of joy--to the very threshold of heaven--then--in an instant
+hurled headlong down--and then--oh that my breath could send a pestilence
+to hell!  And then was made the murderer of my wife--fool that I was to
+trust two erring eyes?  Oh, fiends, this is your masterpiece of torture!
+(All the CONSPIRATORS lean upon their swords much afflicted--a pause.)
+
+FIESCO (exhausted, and looking mournfully round the circle).  Yes, by
+heavens!  They who feared not to draw their swords against their prince
+are shedding tears!  (With dejection.)  Speak!  Do you weep over this
+havoc caused by treacherous death, or do you bewail the fall of your
+leader's spirit?  (Turning toward the dead body in an affecting posture.)
+Where iron-hearted warriors were melted into tears, Fiesco uttered only
+imprecations of despair.  (Kneels down, weeping, by her side.)  Pardon
+me, Leonora--the decrees of heaven are immutable; they yield not to
+mortal anger.  (With a melancholy tenderness.)  O Leonora, years ago my
+fancy painted that triumphant hour when I should present thee to Genoa as
+her duchess--methought I saw the lovely blush that tinged thy modest
+cheek--the timid heaving of thy beauteous bosom beneath the snowy gauze--
+I heard the gentle murmurs of thy voice, which died away in rapture!
+(More lively.)  Ah, how intoxicating to my soul were the proud
+acclamations of the people!  How did my love rejoice to see its triumph
+marked in the sinking envy of its rivals!  Leonora!  The hour which
+should confirm these hopes is come.  Thy Fiesco is Duke of Genoa--and yet
+the meanest beggar would not exchange his poverty for my greatness and my
+sufferings.  (More affected.)  He has a wife to share his troubles--with
+whom can I share my splendor?  (He weeps bitterly, and throws himself on
+the dead body.  Compassion marked upon the countenances of all.)
+
+CALCAGNO.  She was, indeed, a most excellent lady.
+
+ZIBO.  This event must be concealed from the people.  'Twould damp the
+ardor of our party and elevate the enemy with hope.
+
+FIESCO (rises, collected and firm).  Here me, Genoese!  Providence, if
+rightly I interpret its designs, has struck me with this wound only to
+try my heart for my approaching greatness.  The blow was terrible.  Since
+I have felt it, I fear neither torture nor pleasure.  Come!  Genoa, you
+say, awaits me--I will give to Genoa a prince more truly great than
+Europe ever saw.  Away!--for this unhappy princess I will prepare a
+funeral so splendid that life shall lose its charms, and cold corruption
+glitter like a bride.  Follow your duke!
+
+                                         [Exeunt, with music and colors.
+
+
+
+SCENE XIV.
+
+     ANDREAS, LOMELLINO.
+
+ANDREAS.  Yonder they go, with shouts of exultation.
+
+LOMELLINO.  They are intoxicated with success.  The gates are deserted
+and all are hastening toward the senate-house.
+
+ANDREAS.  It was my nephew only whom Genoa could not brook.  My nephew is
+no more.  Hear, Lomellino!
+
+LOMELLINO.  What, duke--still--do you still hope?
+
+ANDREAS (sternly).  And dost thou tremble for my life, and mock me with
+the name of duke the while thou wouldst forbid me hope.
+
+LOMELLINO.  My gracious lord, a raging nation lies in Fiesco's scale;
+what counterpoise in yours?
+
+ANDREAS (with dignity and animation).  Heaven!
+
+LOMELLINO (shrugging up his shoulders).  The times are past, my lord,
+when armies fought under the guidance of celestial leaders.  Since
+gunpowder was invented angels have ceased to fight.
+
+ANDREAS.  Wretch that thou art!  Wouldst thou bereave an aged head of its
+support, its God.  (In an earnest and commanding tone.)  Go!  Make it
+known throughout Genoa that Andreas Doria is still alive.  Say that
+Andreas entreats the citizens, his children, not to drive him, in his old
+age, to dwell with foreigners, who ne'er would pardon the exalted state
+to which he raised his country.  Say this--and further say, Andreas begs
+but so much ground within his fatherland as may contain his bones.
+
+LOMELLINO.  I obey; but I despair of success.  (Going.)
+
+ANDREAS.  Stay; take with thee this snowy lock, and say it was the last
+upon my head.  Say that I plucked it on that night when ungrateful Genoa
+tore itself from my heart.  For fourscore years it hung upon my temples,
+and now has left my bald head, chilled with the winter of age.  The lock
+is weak, but 'twill suffice to fasten the purple on that young usurper.
+
+     [Exit--LOMELLINO hastens into another street--Shouts are heard,
+     with trumpets and drums.
+
+
+
+SCENE XV.
+
+     VERRINA (coming from the harbor), BERTHA, and BOURGOGNINO.
+
+VERRINA.  What mean these shouts?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  They proclaim Fiesco duke.
+
+BERTHA (to BOURGOGNINO, timidly).  Scipio!  My father's looks are
+dreadful----
+
+VERRINA.  Leave me, my children.  O Genoa! Genoa!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  The populace adore him, and with transports hailed him as
+their duke.  The nobles looked on with horror, but dared not oppose it.
+
+VERRINA.  My son, I have converted all my possessions into gold, and
+conveyed it on board thy vessel.  Take thy wife with thee, and set sail
+immediately.  Perhaps I soon shall follow.  Perhaps--never more.  Hasten
+to Marseilles, and--(embracing them mournfully and with energy)--may the
+Almighty guide you.                              [Exit hastily.
+
+BERTHA.  I beseech thee, say, on what dreadful project does my father
+brood?
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  Didst thou understand thy father?
+
+BERTHA.  He bade us fly.  Merciful Heaven!  Fly on our bridal day!
+
+BOURGOGNINO.  He spoke it, and we must obey.
+
+                                         [Exeunt towards the harbor.
+
+
+
+SCENE XVI.
+
+     VERRINA, and FIESCO (in the ducal habit), meeting.
+
+FIESCO.  Welcome, Verrina!  I was anxious to meet thee.
+
+VERRINA.  I also sought Fiesco.
+
+FIESCO.  Does Verrina perceive no alteration in his friend?
+
+VERRINA (with reserve).  I wish for none.
+
+FIESCO.  But do you see none?
+
+VERRINA (without looking at him).  I should hope not!
+
+FIESCO.  I ask, do you perceive none?
+
+VERRINA (after a slight glance).  None!
+
+FIESCO.  See, then, how idle is the observation that power makes a
+tyrant.  Since we parted I am become the Duke of Genoa, and yet Verrina
+(pressing him to his bosom) finds my embrace still glowing as before.
+
+VERRINA.  I grieve that I must return it coldly.  The sight of majesty
+falls like a keen-edged weapon, cutting off all affection between the
+duke and me.  To John Louis Fiesco belonged the territory of my heart.
+Now he has conquered Genoa I resume that poor possession.
+
+FIESCO (with astonishment).  Forbid it, Heaven! That price is too
+enormous even for a dukedom.
+
+VEERINA (muttering).  Hum!  Is liberty then out of fashion, that
+republics are so lightly thrown away upon the first that offers himself?
+
+FIESCO (bites his lips).  Verrina, say this to no one but Fiesco.
+
+VERRINA.  Oh, of course!  Great indeed must be that mind which can hear
+the voice of truth without offence.  But alas! the cunning gamester has
+failed in one single card.  He calculated all the chances of envious
+opposition, but unfortunately overlooked one antagonist--the patriot--
+(very significantly).  But perhaps the oppressor of liberty has still in
+store some scheme for banishing patriotic virtue.  I swear by the living
+God that posterity shall sooner collect my mouldering bones from off the
+wheel than from a sepulchre within that country which is governed by a
+duke.
+
+FIESCO (taking him tenderly by the hand).  Not even when that duke is thy
+brother?  Not if he should make his principality the treasury of that
+benevolence which was restrained by his domestic poverty?  Not even then,
+Verrina.
+
+VERRINA.  No--not even then!  We pardon not the robber because he made
+gifts of his plunder, nor does such generosity suit Verrina.  I might
+permit my fellow-citizens to confer a benefit on me--because I should
+hope some day to make them an adequate return.  That which a prince
+confers is bounty; but bounty undeserved I would receive alone from God.
+
+FIESCO (angrily).  It were as easy to tear Italy from the bosom of the
+ocean as to shake this stubborn enthusiast from his prejudices.
+
+VERRINA.  Well mayst thou talk of tearing: thou hast torn the republic
+from Doria, as a lamb from the jaws of the wolf, only that thou mightest
+devour it thyself.  But enough of this--just tell me, duke, what crime
+the poor wretch committed whom you ordered to be hung up at the church of
+the Jesuits?
+
+FIESCO.  The scoundrel set fire to the city.
+
+VERRINA.  Yet the scoundrel left the laws untouched.
+
+FIESCO.  Verrina presumes upon my friendship.
+
+VERRINA.  Away with friendship!  I tell thee I no longer love thee.  I
+swear to thee that I hate thee--hate thee like the serpent of Paradise,
+that first disturbed the happiness of creation, and brought upon mankind
+unbounded sorrow.  Hear me, Fiesco, I speak to thee not as a subject to
+his master, not as a friend to his friend, but as man to man--(with
+bitterness and vehemence).  Thou hast committed a crime against the
+majesty of the eternal God in permitting virtue to lead thy hands to
+wickedness, and in suffering the patriots of Genoa to violate their
+country.  Fiesco, had thy villany deceived me also!--Fiesco, by all the
+horrors of eternity! with my own hands I would have strangled myself, and
+on thy head spurted the venom of my departing soul.  A princely crime may
+break the scale of human justice, but thou hast insulted heaven, and the
+last judgment will decide the cause.  (Fiesco remains speechless, looking
+at him with astonishment.)  Do not attempt to answer me.  Now we have
+done.  (After walking several times up and down.)  Duke of Genoa, in the
+vessels of yesterday's tyrant, I have seen a miserable race who, at every
+stroke of their oars, ruminate upon their long-expiated guilt, and weep
+their tears into the ocean, which, like a rich man, is too proud to count
+them.  A good prince begins his reign with acts of mercy.  Wilt thou
+release the galley-slaves?
+
+FIESCO (sharply).  Let them be the first fruits of my tyranny.  Go, and
+announce to them their deliverance.
+
+VERRINA.  You will enjoy but half the pleasure unless you see their
+happiness.  Perform this deed thyself.  The great are seldom witnesses of
+the evils which they cause.  And shall they, too, do good by stealth and
+in obscurity?  Methinks the duke is not too great to sympathize with a
+beggar.
+
+FIESCO.  Man, thou art dreadful; yet I know not why I must follow thee.
+(Both go toward the sea.)
+
+VERRINA (stops, much affected).  But once more embrace me, Fiesco.  Here
+is no one by to see Verrina weep, or to behold a prince give way to
+feeling--(he embraces him eagerly).  Surely never beat two greater hearts
+together--we loved each other so fraternally--(weeping violently on
+Fiasco's neck).  Fiesco! Fiesco!  Thou makest a void in my bosom which
+all mankind, thrice numbered, could not fill up.
+
+FIESCO (much affected).  Be still, my friend.
+
+VERRINA.  Throw off this hateful purple, and I will be so.  The first
+prince was a murderer, and assumed the purple to hide the bloody stains
+of his detested deeds.  Hear me, Fiesco!  I am a warrior, little used to
+weeping--Fiesco--these are my first tears--throw off this purple!
+
+FIESCO.  Peace.
+
+VERRINA (more vehemently).  Fiesco, place on the one side all the honors
+of this great globe, on the other all its tortures; they should not make
+me kneel before a mortal--Fiesco (falling on his knee), this is the first
+bending of my knee--throw off this purple!
+
+FIESCO.  Rise, and no longer irritate me!
+
+VERRINA (in a determined tone).  I rise then, and will no longer irritate
+thee.  (They stand on a board leading to a galley.)  The prince must take
+precedence.
+
+FIESCO.  Why do you pull my cloak?  It falls----
+
+VERRINA (with bitter irony).  If the purple falls the duke must after it.
+(He pushes him into the sea.)
+
+FIESCO (calls out of the waves).  Help, Genoa!  Help!  Help thy duke!
+(Sinks.)
+
+
+
+SCENE XVII.
+
+     CALCAGNO, SACCO, ZIBO, ZENTURIONE, Conspirators, People.
+
+CALCAGNO (crying out).  Fiesco!  Fiesco!  Andreas is returned--half Genoa
+joins Andreas.  Where is Fiesco?
+
+VERRINA (in a firm tone).  Drowning.
+
+ZENTURIONE.  Does hell or madness prompt thy answer?
+
+VERRINA.  Drowned--if that sound better.  I go to join Andreas.
+
+     (The CONSPIRATORS stand in groups, astonished.  The curtain falls.)
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIESCO, BY SCHILLER ***
+
+**** This file should be named fs23w10.txt or fs23w10.zip ****
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