summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/files/relative.htm
blob: a3e341e8c3acac7a1ef2f6885a7e3f7d1b98583b (plain) 
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      Fiesco, Or the Genoese Conspiracy
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Project Gutenberg's Fiesco or, The Genoese Conspiracy, by Friedrich Schiller

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net


Title: Fiesco or, The Genoese Conspiracy
       A Tragedy

Author: Friedrich Schiller

Release Date: October 25, 2006 [EBook #6783]
Last Updated: November 6, 2012

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIESCO OR, THE GENOESE CONSPIRACY ***




Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger





</pre>
    <h1>
      FIESCO, OR THE GENOESE CONSPIRACY.
    </h1>
    <h2>
      A TRAGEDY. <br /> <br /> By Friedrich Schiller
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
    </h2>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      [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.&mdash;Translation.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h2>
      FIESCO; OR, THE GENOESE CONSPIRACY.<br /> <br /> A TRAGEDY.
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
    </h3>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA, a determined republican, sixty years of age; grave, austere, and
      inflexible: a marked character.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO, a conspirator, a youth of twenty; frank and high-spirited,
      proud, hasty, and undisguised.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO, a conspirator, a worn-out debauchee of thirty; insinuating and
      enterprising.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO, a conspirator, forty-five years of age, with no distinguishing
      trait of character.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO, in the confidence of the pretender, a haggard courtier.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE, | ZIBO, | Malcontents. ASSERATO, |
    </p>
    <p>
      ROMANO, a painter, frank and simple, with the pride of genius.
    </p>
    <p>
      MULEY HASSAN, a Moor of Tunis, an abandoned character, with a physiognomy
      displaying an original mixture of rascality and humor.
    </p>
    <p>
      A GERMAN of the ducal body-guard, of an honest simplicity, and steady
      bravery.
    </p>
    <p>
      THREE SEDITIOUS CITIZENS.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA, daughter of Verrina, an innocent girl.
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA, | Maids of Leonora. ARABELLA, |
    </p>
    <p>
      Several Nobles, Citizens, Germans, Soldiers, Thieves.
    </p>
    <p>
      (SCENE&mdash;Genoa. TIME&mdash;the year 1547.)
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <table summary="">
      <tr>
        <td>
          <p class="toc">
            <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> ACT I. </a>
          </p>
          <p class="toc">
            <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> ACT II. </a>
          </p>
          <p class="toc">
            <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ACT III. </a>
          </p>
          <p class="toc">
            <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> ACT IV. </a>
          </p>
          <p class="toc">
            <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> ACT V. </a>
          </p>
        </td>
      </tr>
    </table>
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      ACT I.
    </h2>
    <p>
      SCENE I.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
A Saloon in FIESCO'S House. The distant sound of dancing and
music is heard.
</pre>
    <p>
      LEONORA, masked, and attended by ROSA and ARABELLA, enters hastily.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (tears off her mask). No more! Not another word! 'Tis as clear as
      day! (Throwing herself in a chair.) This quite overcomes me&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. My lady!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (rising.) What, before my eyes! with a notorious coquette! In
      presence of the whole nobility of Genoa! (strongly affected.)&mdash;Rosa!
      Arabella! and before my weeping eyes!
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. Look upon it only as what it really was&mdash;a piece of gallantry.
      It was nothing more.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Gallantry! What! Their busy interchange of glances&mdash;the
      anxious watching of her every motion&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. No matter, Signora! A husband lost is as good as ten lovers gained.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;perhaps a mere piece of
      gallantry. Say, my gentle Arabella, was it not so?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. Most certainly! There can be no doubt of it!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (in a reverie). But does she then feel herself sole mistress of
      his heart? Does her name lurk in his every thought?&mdash;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&mdash;her image alone&mdash;is engraved? That he should
      love her? &mdash;love Julia! Oh! Your arm&mdash;support me, Arabella! (A
      pause; music is again heard.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. It was, Signora&mdash;but let us retire to another apartment.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. You change color, Arabella&mdash;you are false. In your looks, in
      the looks of all the inhabitants of Genoa, I read a something&mdash;a
      something which&mdash;(hiding her face)&mdash;oh, certainly these Genoese
      know more than should reach a wife's ear.
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. Oh, jealousy! thou magnifier of trifles!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (with melancholy enthusiasm). When he was still Fiesco; when in
      the orange-grove, where we damsels walked, I saw him&mdash;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&mdash;tender eyes
      burned fiercely&mdash;soft bosoms beat tumultuously&mdash;jealousy burst
      asunder all our bonds of friendship&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. I remember it well. All Genoa's female hearts were in rebellious
      ferment for so enviable a prize!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (in rapture). And now to call him mine! Giddy, wondrous fortune!&mdash;to
      call the pride of Genoa mine!&mdash;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&mdash;hear me! I confide to you something (mysteriously)&mdash;a
      thought!&mdash;when I stood at the altar with Fiesco,&mdash;when his hand
      lay in mine,&mdash;a thought, too daring for woman, rushed across me.
      "This Fiesco, whose hand now lies in thine&mdash;thy Fiesco"&mdash;but
      hush! let no man hear us boast how far he excels all others of his sex.
      "This, thy Fiesco"&mdash;ah, could you but share my feelings!&mdash;"will
      free Genoa from its tyrants!"
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA (astonished). And could this dream haunt a woman's mind even at
      the nuptial shrine?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Yes, my Arabella,&mdash;well mayest thou be astonished&mdash;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&mdash;it
      is a pleasure to esteem him. He may indeed, unenvied, bear the ducal
      dignity; but Gianettino is his nephew&mdash;his heir&mdash;and Gianettino
      has a proud and wicked heart. Genoa trembles before him, and Fiesco (much
      affected)&mdash; Fiesco&mdash;weep with me, damsels!&mdash;loves his
      sister.
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. Alas, my wretched mistress!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Go now, and see this demi-god of the Genoese&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. Speak lower! some one is coming through the gallery.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (alarmed). Ha! 'Tis Fiesco&mdash;let us hasten away&mdash;the
      sight of me might for a moment interrupt his happiness. (She hastens into
      a side apartment; the maids follow.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE II
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   GIANETTINO DORIA, masked, in a green cloak, and the MOOR,
   enter in conversation.
</pre>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Thou hast understood me!
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Well&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. The white mask&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Well&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. I say, the white mask&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Well&mdash;well&mdash;well&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Dost thou mark me? Thou canst only fail here! (pointing to his
      heart).
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Give yourself no concern.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. And be sure to strike home&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. He shall have enough.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (maliciously). That the poor count may not have long to suffer.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. With your leave, sir, a word&mdash;at what weight do you estimate
      his head?
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. What weight? A hundred sequins&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (blowing through his fingers). Poh! Light as a feather!
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. What art thou muttering?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. I was saying&mdash;it is light work.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. That is thy concern. He is the very loadstone of sedition.
      Mark me, sirrah! let thy blow be sure.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. But, sir,&mdash;I must fly to Venice immediately after the deed.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Then take my thanks beforehand. (He throws him a bank-note.)
      In three days at farthest he must be cold.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                          [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      MOOR (picking up the note). Well, this really is what I call credit to
      trust&mdash;the simple word of such a rogue as I am!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                          [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE III.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   CALCAGNO, behind him SACCO, both in black cloaks.
</pre>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. I perceive thou watchest all my steps.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;I
      love the Countess of Fiesco.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. They say she is a pattern of the strictest virtue.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. They lie. She is the whole volume on that insipid text. Calcagno,
      thou must choose one or the other&mdash;either to give up thy heart or thy
      profession.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. What, are thy debts so great?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                            [Exeunt.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE IV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   JULIA, agitated with anger, and FIESCO, in a white mask,
   following her.
</pre>
    <p>
      JULIA. Servants! footmen!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Countess, whither are you going? What do you intend?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Nothing&mdash;nothing at all. (To the servants, who enter and
      immediately retire.) Let my carriage draw up&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Pardon me, it must not. You are offended.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Oh, by no means. Away&mdash;you tear my dress to pieces. Offended.
      Who is here that can offend me? Go, pray go.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (upon one knee). Not till you tell me what impertinent&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;unless you think your
      gallantries will atone for your wife's impertinence.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (jumping up). Impertinence! To you?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. To break up! To push away her chair! To turn her back upon the
      table&mdash;that table, Count, where I was sitting&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. 'Tis inexcusable.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. 'Tis the fault of your beauty, madam, that keeps them in such
      sweet slavery.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Find it in the arms of love&mdash;of love that would repair the
      offence of jealousy.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. A great and courtly falsehood, paraded upon stilts! While his
      tongue deifies me, his heart beats beneath the picture of another.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                            [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   [Exit hastily. A noisy allegro, during which the back scene opens,
   and discovers a grand illuminated saloon, many masks&mdash;dancing. At
   the side, drinking and playing tables, surrounded with company.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE V.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   GIANETTINO, almost intoxicated, LOMELLINO, ZIBO, ZENTURIONE,
   VERRINA, CALCAGNO, all masked. Several other nobles and ladies.
</pre>
    <p>
      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,&mdash;"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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (supporting GIANETTINO on his arm). My lord, you lately spoke of
      a young girl whom you saw in the church of St. Lorenzo.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. I did, my lad! and I must make her acquaintance.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. That I can manage for your grace.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (with vehemence). Can you? Can you? Lomellino, you were a
      candidate for the procuratorship. You shall have it.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (in a low voice). The damsel is the only daughter of one
      Verrina.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. The girl is pretty, and, in spite of all the devils in hell, I
      must possess her.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. What, my lord! the only child of the most obstinate of our
      republicans?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. The damsel is at this moment alone. Her father is here, and one
      of those three masks.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Excellent! Bring me instantly to her.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. But you will seek in her a mistress, and find a prude.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO and the former.
</pre>
    <p>
      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&mdash;to your lovely sister, as mistress of my
      heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Fiesco has become a mere votary of pleasure. The great world
      has lost much in you.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Away, Lomellino! It is near midnight. The time draws near
      &mdash;Lavagna, we thank thee for thy entertainment&mdash;I have been
      satisfied.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. That, prince, is all that I can wish.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Then good-night! To-morrow we have a party at the palace, and
      Fiesco is invited. Come, procurator!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Ho! Lights there! Music!
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (haughtily, rushing through the three masks). Make way there
      for Doria!
    </p>
    <p>
      ONE OF THE THREE MASKS (murmuring indignantly). Make way? In hell! Never
      in Genoa!
    </p>
    <p>
      THE GUESTS (in motion). The prince is going. Good night, Lavagna! (They
      depart.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The THREE BLACK MASKS and FIESCO. (A pause.)
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. I perceive some guests here who do not share the pleasure of the
      feast.
    </p>
    <p>
      MASKS (murmuring to each other with indignation). No! Not one of us.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      A MASK. We are accustomed to spend it in action.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. A manly answer&mdash;such as bespeaks Verrina.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (unmasking). Fiesco is quicker to discover his friends beneath
      their masks than they to discover him beneath his.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Mournful tales ill suit Fiesco's joyful feasts.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. But if a friend&mdash;(pressing his hand warmly.) Friend of my
      soul! For whom must we both mourn?
    </p>
    <p>
      VRRRINA. Both! both! Oh, 'tis but too true we both should mourn&mdash;yet
      not all sons lament their mother.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. 'Tis long since your mother was mingled with the dust.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (with an earnest look). I do remember me that Fiesco once called
      me brother, because we both were sons of the same country!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Fiesco! I spoke most seriously.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Certainly&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. Come, Verrina. He never will be ours.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;we will let her
      scold, and follow our own pleasures.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (looking at him with earnestness). Are these indeed your serious
      thoughts?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Fiesco! Is that truly and seriously your meaning?
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (with the utmost indignation). Away, then, Genoese! (Leaves FIESCO
      hastily, the rest follow.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Verrina! Verrina! Oh, this republican is as hard as steel!
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO. A MASK entering.
</pre>
    <p>
      MASK. Have you a minute or two to spare, Lavagna?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (in an obliging manner). An hour if you request it.
    </p>
    <p>
      MASK. Then condescend to walk into the fields with me.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. It wants but ten minutes of midnight.
    </p>
    <p>
      MASK. Walk with me, Count, I pray.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. I will order my carriage.
    </p>
    <p>
      MASK. That is useless&mdash;I shall send one horse: we want no more, for
      only one of us, I hope, will return.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with surprise). What say you?
    </p>
    <p>
      MASK. A bloody answer will be demanded of you, touching a certain tear.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. What tear?
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. I understand you now; but let me ask who 'tis that offers so
      strange a challenge?
    </p>
    <p>
      MASK. It is the same that once adored the lady Zibo, and yielded her to
      Fiesco.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Scipio Bourgognino!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (unmasking). And who now stands here to vindicate his honor,
      that yielded to a rival base enough to tyrannize over innocence.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;but I refuse your challenge.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (stepping back). Does Fiesco tremble to encounter the first
      efforts of my sword?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the will deserves a laurel, but the deed would
      be childish.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (with emotion). Childish, Count! women can only weep at
      injuries. 'Tis for men to revenge them.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Uncommonly well said&mdash;but fight I will not.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (turning upon him contemptuously). Count, I shall despise you.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with animation). By heaven, youth, that thou shalt never do&mdash;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&mdash;what
      shall I say&mdash;respect?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Had I not thought you were the first of men I should not have
      yielded to you.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   [Exit BOURGOGNINO, in silence.
</pre>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="2pa298 (142K)" src="images/2pa298.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> SCENE IX.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO.&mdash;The MOOR entering with an appearance of timidity,
   and looking round cautiously.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO (fixing his eye on him sharply). What wouldst thou here? Who art
      thou?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (as above). A slave of the republic.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (keeping his eye sharply upon him). Slavery is a wretched craft.
      What dost thou seek?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Sir, I am an honest man.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Wear then that label on thy visage, it will not be superfluous&mdash;
      but what wouldst thou have?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (approaching him, FIESCO draws back). Sir, I am no villain.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. 'Tis well thou hast told me that&mdash;and yet&mdash;'tis not well
      either (impatiently). What dost thou seek?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (still approaching). Are you the Count Lavagna?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (haughtily). The blind in Genoa know my steps&mdash;what wouldst
      thou with the Count?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (close to him). Be on your guard, Lavagna!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (passing hastily to the other side). That, indeed, I am.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (again approaching). Evil designs are formed against you, Count.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (retreating). That I perceive.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Beware of Doria!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (approaching him with an air of confidence). Perhaps my suspicions
      have wronged thee, my friend&mdash;Doria is indeed the name I dread.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Avoid the man, then. Can you read?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. A curious question! Thou hast known, it seems, many of our
      cavaliers. What writing hast thou?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the MOOR steals round him, draws a dagger, and is
      going to stab.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (turning round dexterously, and seizing the MOOR'S arm.) Stop,
      scoundrel! (Wrests the dagger from him.)
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (stamps in a frantic manner). Damnation! Your pardon&mdash;sire!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (seizing him, calls with a loud voice). Stephano! Drullo! Antonio!
      (holding the MOOR by the throat.) Stay, my friend!&mdash;what hellish
      villany! (Servants enter.) Stay, and answer&mdash;thou hast performed thy
      task like a bungler. Who pays thy wages?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (after several fruitless attempts to escape). You cannot hang me
      higher than the gallows are&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. No&mdash;be comforted&mdash;not on the horns of the moon, but
      higher than ever yet were gallows&mdash;yet hold! Thy scheme was too
      politic to be of thy own contrivance speak, fellow! who hired thee?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Think me a rascal, sir, but not a fool.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. What, is the scoundrel proud? Speak, sirrah! Who hired thee?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;lays
      it down&mdash;takes it up again, and looks at FIESCO with increased
      astonishment). What dost thou mean?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (throwing the money resolutely upon the table). Sir, that money I
      have not earned&mdash;I deserve it not.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (bowing with an air of pleasure at his escape). Sir, you are too good&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;understand me aright&mdash;I take thy failure as an omen
      of my future greatness&mdash;'tis this thought that renders me indulgent,
      and preserves thy life.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (in a tone of confidence). Count, your hand! honor for honor. If any
      man in this country has a throat too much&mdash;command me, and I'll cut
      it&mdash;gratis.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Obliging scoundrel! He would show his gratitude by cutting throats
      wholesale!
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Men like me, sir, receive no favor without acknowledgment. We know
      what honor is.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. The honor of cut-throats?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Thou art an amusing villain.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;from the lowest
      to the highest.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Indeed! (seating himself.) There are laws and systems then even
      among thieves. What canst thou tell me of the lowest class?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;and at most can lead but to the gallows.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. A charming prospect! I should like to hear something of a superior
      class.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. The next are spies and informers&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. I understand thee&mdash;go on&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;this is the third class.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. But tell me! When comes thy own?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Patience, my lord&mdash;that is the very point I'm coming to&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. And how do you describe that class?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Thou art an hardened villain&mdash;such a tool I want. Give me thy
      hand&mdash;thou shalt serve me.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Jest or earnest?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. In full earnest&mdash;and I'll pay thee yearly a 'thousand
      sequins.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Done, Lavagna! I am yours. Away with common business&mdash;employ me
      in whate'er you will. I'll be your setter or your bloodhound&mdash;your
      fox, your viper&mdash;your pimp, or executioner. I'm prepared for all
      commissions &mdash;except honest ones; in those I am as stupid as a block.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;
      what of me, my debaucheries, and romantic passion. Flood their brains with
      wine, until the sentiments of the heart flow over. Here's money&mdash;
      lavish it among the manufacturers&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Sir!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Be not afraid&mdash;no honesty is in the case. Go, collect what
      help thou canst. To-morrow I will hear thy report.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                     [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                     [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE X.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

   An apartment in the house of VERRINA.

   BERTHA on a couch, supporting her head on her hand&mdash;

   VERRINA enters with a look of dejection.
</pre>
    <p>
      BERTHA (starts up frightened). Heavens! He is here!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (stops, looking at her with surprise). My daughter affrighted at
      her father!
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Fly! fly! or let me fly! Father, your sight is dreadful to me!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Dreadful to my child!&mdash;my only child!
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (looking at him mournfully). Oh! you must seek another. I am no
      more your daughter.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. What, does my tenderness distress you?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. It weighs me down to the earth.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (casting a long and earnest look at him). Wretched father!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (eagerly embracing her). Bertha! my only child! Bertha! my last
      remaining hope! The liberty of Genoa is lost&mdash;Fiesco is lost&mdash;and
      thou (pressing her more strongly, with a look of despair) mayest be
      dishonored!
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (tearing herself from him). Great God! You know, then&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (trembling). What?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. My virgin honor&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (raging). What?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Last night&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (furiously.) Speak! What!
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Force. (Sinks down upon the side of the sofa.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (after a long pause, with a hollow voice). One word more, my
      daughter&mdash;thy last! Who was it?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Alas, what an angry deathlike paleness! Great God, support me! How
      his words falter! His whole frame trembles!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. I cannot comprehend it. Tell me, my daughter&mdash;who?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Compose yourself, my best, my dearest father!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (ready to faint). For God's sake&mdash;who?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. A mask&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (steps back, thoughtfully). No! That cannot be!&mdash;the thought
      is idle&mdash;(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?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Taller.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (eagerly). His hair? Black, and curled?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. As black as jet and curled?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (retiring from her in great emotion). O God! my brain! my brain!
      His voice?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Was deep and harsh.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (impetuously). What color was&mdash;No! I'll hear no more! 'His
      cloak! What color?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. I think his cloak was green.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (covering his face with his hands, falls on the couch). No more.
      This can be nothing but a dream!
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (wringing her hands). Merciful heaven! Is this my father?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (after a pause, with a forced smile). Right! It serves thee right&mdash;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&mdash;but stay&mdash;my sword were
      better. (To BERTHA.) Say thy prayers! Ah! what am I going to do?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Father, you make me tremble&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Come, sit by me, Bertha! (in a solemn manner.) Tell me, Bertha,
      what did that hoary-headed Roman, when his daughter&mdash;like you&mdash;
      how can I speak it! fell a prey to ignominy? Tell me, Bertha, what said
      Virginius to his dishonored daughter?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (shuddering). I know not.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Foolish girl! He said nothing&mdash;but (rising hastily and
      snatching up a sword) he seized an instrument of death&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (terrified, rushes into his arms). Great God! What would you do, my
      father?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (throwing away the sword). No! There is still justice left in
      Genoa.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   SACCO, CALCAGNO, the former.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO (to CALCAGNO). But what do I see? A naked sword! Verrina staring
      wildly! Bertha in tears!
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. By heavens, it is so. Sacco! some strange event has happened
      here.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (placing two chairs). Be seated.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. Your looks, Verrina, fill us with apprehension.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. I never saw you thus before&mdash;Bertha is in tears, or your
      grief would have seemed to presage our country's ruin.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Ruin! Pray sit down. (They both seat themselves.)
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. My friend, I conjure you&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Listen to me.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (to SACCO). I have sad misgivings.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. No.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. No one, by the God of heaven!
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. No. Your daughter is a bright example to her sex.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO and CALCAGNO. Forbid it, heaven! (BERTHA on the couch, appears much
      affected.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO and CALCAGNO (starting up with emotion). Gianettino Doria!
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (with a shriek, seeing BOURGOGNINO enter). Cover me, walls, beneath
      your ruins! My Scipio!
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   BOURGOGNINO&mdash;the former.
</pre>
    <p>
      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&mdash;I will make her happy. (BERTHA hides her face&mdash;a profound
      pause.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. What, youth! Wouldst thou mix thy heart's pure tide with a
      polluted stream?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (clasps his hand to his sword, but suddenly draws it back).
      'Twas her father said it.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. No&mdash;every rascal in Italy will say it. Are you contented
      with the leavings of other men's repasts?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Old man, do not make me desperate.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Bourgognino! he speaks the truth.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (enraged, rushing towards BERTHA). The truth? Has the girl
      then mocked me?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. No! no! Bourgognino. The girl is spotless as an angel.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. My child is guiltless.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Seek him in the plunderer of Genoa! (BOURGOGNINO struck with
      astonishment&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash; 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!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   [A deep silence&mdash;horror is marked on the countenances of all
   present. VERRINA casts a scrutinizing look at each of them.
</pre>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Inhuman father! What is it thou hast done? Why pour forth
      this horrible and monstrous curse against thy guiltless daughter?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Youth, thou say'st true!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;you
      stare at me with ghastly faces. Once more, Scipio&mdash;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&mdash;I retract not.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (throwing himself at BERTHA'S feet). He shall fall&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (with a calm look). Through me Genoa thanks you. Now go, my
      daughter; rejoice to be the mighty sacrifice for thy country!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (embracing her as she is departing). Go! confide in God&mdash;and
      Bourgognino. The same day shall give freedom to Bertha and to Genoa.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                        [BERTHA retires.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former&mdash;without BERTHA.
</pre>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Genoese, before we take another step, one word&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. I guess what you would say.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                     [The scene closes.
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      ACT II.
    </h2>
    <p>
      SCENE I.&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

   An Ante-chamber in the Palace of FIESCO.

   LEONORA and ARABELLA.
</pre>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. No, no, you were mistaken: your eyes were blinded by jealousy.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE II.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former and JULIA.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   [ARABELLA goes out, and returns soon afterwards.
</pre>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Do you wish that I should invite company to meet you?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. 'Tis my misfortune, signora, that my want of spirits prevents me
      from enjoying the pleasure of your company.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. I know but one way, Countess. Let yours ever be the sympathetic
      medium.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (smiling at ARABELLA). If he were, he would not wish to mix with
      such assemblies.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (offering her a cup of chocolate). You, madam&mdash;if he have
      lost it.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Good! This sting shall return into your own bosom. Tremble for your
      mockery! But before you tremble&mdash;blush!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Do you then know what it is to blush, signora? But why not? 'Tis
      a toilet trick.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Oh, see! This poor creature must be provoked if one would draw from
      her a spark of wit. Well&mdash;let it pass this time. Madam, you were
      bitter. Give me your hand in token of reconciliation.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (offering her hand with a significant look). Countess, my anger
      ne'er shall trouble you.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (blushing and confused). What do you say? Let me hope the
      conclusion is too hasty.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. I think so, too. The heart waits not the guidance of the senses
      &mdash;real sentiment needs no breastwork of outward ornament.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Heavens! Where did you learn such a truth?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (with extreme indignation). My picture! Given to you! (Throws
      herself into a chair, much affected.) Cruel, Fiesco!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                     [Exeunt JULIA and ARABELLA.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE III.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   LEONORA, CALCAGNO entering.
</pre>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Did not the Countess Imperiali depart in anger? You, too, so
      excited, madam?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (violently agitated.) No! This is unheard-of cruelty.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Heaven and earth! Do I behold you in tears?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Thou art a friend of my inhuman&mdash;Away, leave my sight!
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Whom do you call inhuman? You affright me&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. My husband. Is he not so?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. What do I hear!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. 'Tis but a piece of villany common enough among your sex!
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (grasping her hand with vehemence). Lady, I have a heart for
      weeping virtue.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. You are a man&mdash;your heart is not for me.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. For you alone&mdash;yours only. Would that you knew how much,
      how truly yours&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Man, thou art untrue. Thy words would be refuted by thy actions&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. I swear to you&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Nay, madam, your anger makes you unjust. Is the whole sex to
      answer for the crime of one?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. I tell thee in that one was centred all my affection for the sex.
      In him I will detest them all.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Countess,&mdash;you once bestowed your hand amiss. Would you
      again make trial, I know one who would deserve it better.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. The limits of creation cannot bound your falsehoods. I'll hear no
      more.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Oh, that you would retract this cruel sentence in my arms!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (with astonishment). Speak out. In thy arms!
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. In my arms, which open themselves to receive a forsaken woman,
      and to console her for the love she has lost.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (fixing her eyes on him). Love?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (rising, confounded). Countess!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (hastily). Perjury, madam, you cannot be guilty of.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. I understand thee&mdash;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&mdash;but&mdash;will
      lower humanity. [Exit hastily.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (stands as if thunderstruck, looks after her, then striking his
      forehead). Fool that I am. [Exit.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE IV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The MOOR and FIESCO.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Who was it that just now departed?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. The Marquis Calcagno.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. This handkerchief was left upon the sofa. My wife has been here.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. I met her this moment in great agitation.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. This handkerchief is moist (puts it in his pocket). Calcagno here?
      And Leonora agitated? This evening thou must learn what has happened.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Miss Bella likes to hear that she is fair. She will inform me.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Well&mdash;thirty hours are past. Hast thou executed my
      commission?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. To the letter, my lord.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (seating himself). Then tell me how they talk of Doria, and of the
      government.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Oh, most vilely. The very name of Doria shakes them like an
      ague-fit. Gianettino is as hateful to them as death itself&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. That may perhaps be true. But do they not know of any dog against
      that cat?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (with an affected carelessness). The town was murmuring much of a
      certain&mdash;poh&mdash;why, I have actually forgotten the name.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (rising). Blockhead! That name is as easy to be remembered as 'twas
      difficult to achieve. Has Genoa more such names than one?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. No&mdash;it cannot have two Counts of Lavagna.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (seating himself). That is something. And what do they whisper
      about my gayeties?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;with such talents and genius&mdash;full of spirit and
      popularity&mdash; master of four millions&mdash;his veins enriched with
      princely blood&mdash;a nobleman like Fiesco, whom, at the first call, all
      hearts would fly to meet&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (turns away contemptuously). To hear such things from such a
      scoundrel!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. One fox smells out another. What say they to my passion for the
      Countess Imperiali?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. What I would rather be excused from repeating.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Out with it&mdash;the bolder the more welcome. What are their
      murmurings?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. 'Tis not a murmur. At all the coffee-houses, billiard-tables,
      hotels, and public walks&mdash;in the market-place, at the Exchange, they
      proclaim aloud&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. What? I command thee!
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (retreating). That you are a fool!
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (humorously). Why, Mr. Fool, they looked like poor knaves&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Fool? Fellow, art thou mad?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Pardon! I had a mind for a few more sequins.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (laughing, gives him another sequin). Well. "Like poor knaves."
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Who receive pardon at the very block. They are yours both soul and
      body.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. I'm glad of it. They turn the scale among the populace of Genoa.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. That thought was better than the soil which gave it birth. These
      words are favorable; but do they bespeak actions of equal import?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Yes&mdash;as the murmuring of the distant thunder foretells the
      approaching storm. The people lay their heads together&mdash;they collect
      in parties&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Hush!&mdash;hark! What is that confused noise?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (going to the window). It is the tumult of the crowd returning from
      the senate-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;where is my golden chain?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Sir, I have stolen and pawned it.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. That I am glad to hear.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. But, how! Are there no more sequins for me?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. No. You forgot the cloak.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Ah! I was wrong in pointing out the thief.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (at the window). What's here! They're coming down the street of Balbi&mdash;a
      crowd of many thousands&mdash;the halberds glitter&mdash;ah, swords too!
      Halloo! Senators! They come this way.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE V.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO, and ASSERATO, rushing in.
</pre>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Count, impute it to our anger that we enter thus unannounced.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. I have been mortally affronted by the duke's nephew in the
      face of the whole senate.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. Doria has trampled on the golden book of which each noble
      Genoese is a leaf.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. The whole nobility are outraged in his person; the whole nobility
      must rise and vent their rage in fire and flames.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. The rights of the nation are trodden under foot; the liberty of
      the republic has received a deadly blow.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. You raise my expectation to the utmost.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Wanting! I gave my vote for Zibo. Doria&mdash;think of the
      wound inflicted on my honor&mdash;Doria&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO (interrupting him). Such a thing was never heard of since the sea
      washed the walls of Genoa.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (continues, with great heat). Doria drew a sword, which he had
      concealed under a scarlet cloak&mdash;stuck it through my vote&mdash;called
      to the assembly&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. "Senators, 'tis good-for-nothing&mdash;'tis pierced through.
      Lomellino is procurator."
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. "Lomellino is procurator." And threw his sword upon the table.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. And called out, "'Tis good-for-nothing!" and threw his sword
      upon the table.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (after a pause). On what are you resolved?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. The republic is wounded to its very heart. On what are we
      resolved?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Zenturione, rushes may yield to a breath, but the oak requires a
      storm. I ask, on what are you resolved?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Methinks the question shall be, on what does Genoa resolve?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;talk not of
      them! Their heroism is stifled among the bales of their Levantine
      merchandise. Their souls hover anxiously over their India fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (sarcastically). Like frighted pigeons when the vulture darts upon
      the dovecot.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. No! (fiercely)&mdash;like powder-barrels when a match falls on
      them.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. The people are enraged. What may we not expect from the fury of the
      wounded boar!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;Genoese, 'tis in
      vain! The epoch of the masters of the sea is past&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (vehemently). Yes, when the contending elements are reconciled,
      and when the north pole meets the south. Come, friends.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Stay! stay! Upon what project are you brooding, Zibo?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. On nothing.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (leading them to a statue). Look at this figure.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. It is the Florentine Venus. Why point to her?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. At least she pleases you.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Undoubtedly, or we should be but poor Italians. But why this
      question now?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. And then take for our reward?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Then your search will have convicted fancy of deceit&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (impatiently). And what shall we have gained?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Gained? The decision of the long-protracted contest between art
      and nature.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (eagerly). And what then?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Then, then? (Laughing.) Then your attention will have been
      diverted from observing the fall of Genoa's liberty.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                       [Exeunt all but FIESCO.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE VI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO alone. (The noise without increases.)
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. 'Tis well! 'tis well. The straw of the republic has caught fire&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, MOOR, entering in haste.
</pre>
    <p>
      MOOR. Crowds upon crowds!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Throw open wide the gates. Let all that choose enter.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Republicans! Republicans, indeed! They drag their liberty along,
      panting, like beasts of burden, beneath the yoke of their magnificent
      nobility.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (going out). Halloo! halloo! You are very obligingly battering the
      house down. (The people rush in; the doors broken down.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, twelve ARTISANS.
</pre>
    <p>
      ALL ARTISANS. Vengeance on Doria! Vengeance on Gianettino!
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL (with impetuosity). Down with the Dorias! Down with them, uncle and
      nephew!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (counting them with a smile). Twelve is a mighty force!
    </p>
    <p>
      SOME OF THEM. These Dorias must away! the state must be reformed!
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. To throw our magistrates down stairs! The magistrates!
    </p>
    <p>
      2D ARTISAN. Think, Count Lavagna&mdash;down stairs! because they opposed
      them in the election&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL. It must not be endured! it shall not be endured!
    </p>
    <p>
      3D ARTISAN. To take a sword into the senate!
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. A sword?&mdash;the sign of war&mdash;into the chamber of
      peace!
    </p>
    <p>
      2D ARTISAN. To come into the senate dressed in scarlet! Not like the other
      senators, in black.
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. To drive through our capital with eight horses!
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL. A tyrant! A traitor to the country and the government!
    </p>
    <p>
      2D ARTISAN. To hire two hundred Germans from the Emperor for his
      body-guard.
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. To bring foreigners in arms against the natives&mdash;Germans
      against Italians&mdash;soldiers against laws!
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL. 'Tis treason!&mdash;'tis a plot against the liberty of Genoa!
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. To have the arms of the republic painted on his coach!
    </p>
    <p>
      2D ARTISAN. The statue of Andreas placed in the centre of the
      senate-house!
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL. Dash them to pieces&mdash;both the statue and the man&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Citizens of Genoa, why this to me?
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. You should not suffer it. You should keep him down.
    </p>
    <p>
      2D ARTISAN. You are a wise man, and should not suffer it. You should
      direct us by your counsel.
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. You are a better nobleman. You should chastise them and curb
      their insolence.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Your confidence is flattering. Can I merit it by deeds?
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL (clamorously). Strike! Down with the tyrant! Make us free!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. But&mdash;will you hear me?
    </p>
    <p>
      SOME. Speak, Count!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (seating himself). Genoese,&mdash;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?
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. For the people&mdash;everything in common&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the
      beasts laid down their arms, and man exacted contributions from them. The
      democratic system was abandoned. Genoese, what would you next have chosen?
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST AND 2D ARTISANS. A select government!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;to one&mdash;-but
      (rising and advancing majestically)&mdash;that one was&mdash;the lion!
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL (shouting, and throwing up their hats). Bravo! Bravo! Well managed,
      Count Lavagna!
    </p>
    <p>
      1ST ARTISAN. And Genoa shall follow that example. Genoa, also, has its
      lion!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;
      improve my influence. Hassan! Come hither! Whoreson of hell, come hither!
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE IX.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, MOOR entering hastily.
</pre>
    <p>
      MOOR. My feet are quite on fire with running. What is the matter now?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Hear my commands!
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (submissively). Whither shall I run first?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (taking several steps backward). Sir!&mdash;that's contrary to
      agreement.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Must I confess it, or deny?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Well&mdash;I agree to it. They will draw out my joints a little; but
      that will only make them the more flexible.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE X.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   LEONORA and ROSA enter hastily, alarmed.
</pre>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Murder! they cried&mdash;murder!&mdash;The noise came this way.
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. Surely 'twas but a common tumult, such as happens every day in
      Genoa.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. Collect your spirits, madam. Arabella is gone.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former, ARABELLA.
</pre>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (highly pleased). Idle prattler! Restore them to him.
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. See now, how soon your color has returned!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. His heart he is ready to fling at every wench, whilst I sigh in
      vain for a look! Oh woman! woman!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                      [Exeunt.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XII.&mdash;The Palace of ANDREAS.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   GIANETTINO and LOMELLINO enter hastily.
</pre>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Let them roar for their liberty as a lioness for her young. I
      am resolved.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. But&mdash;most gracious prince!
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. The people are indeed the fuel; but the nobility fan the flame.
      The whole republic is in a ferment, people and patricians.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Then will I stand upon the mount like Nero, and regale myself
      with looking upon the paltry flames.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Till the whole mass of sedition falls into the hands of some
      enterprising leader, who will take advantage of the general devastation.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Poh! Poh! I know but one who might be dangerous, and he is
      taken care of.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. His highness comes.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   Enter ANDREAS&mdash;(both bow respectfully).
</pre>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Signor Lomellino, my niece wishes to take the air.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. I shall have the honor of attending her.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                        [Exit LOMELLINO.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   ANDREAS and GIANETTINO.
</pre>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Nephew, I am much displeased with you.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Grant me a hearing, most gracious uncle!
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. One word only, gracious sir!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash; that
      which should have been thy uncle's mausoleum, his only pyramid&mdash;the
      affections of his countrymen. This rashness Andreas pardons thee&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. My uncle and my sovereign&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (offended). Sir, you educated me to be the Duke of Genoa.
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Be silent. Thou art a traitor to the state, and hast attacked its
      vital principle. Mark me, boy! That principle is&mdash;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?
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (insolently). Peace, Duke! In my veins also boils the blood of
      that Andreas before whom France has trembled.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;thank
      my unjust love that, on the scaffold, I pour not out thy rebellious blood
      to satisfy the violated laws.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                          [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XIV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   GIANETTINO looks after the DUKE, speechless with anger, LOMELLINO
   entering, breathless and terrified.
</pre>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. What have I seen! What have I heard! Fly, prince! Fly quickly!
      All is lost.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (with inward rage). What was there to lose?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (stamping violently on the ground). What, are all the devils of
      hell let loose at once?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash; he
      spoke. My gracious lord, how could you trust your honor to such a villain?
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (fiercely). Ask me no question?
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Hear the rest! Scarcely was the word Doria uttered&mdash;I
      would sooner have seen my name inscribed in the infernal register than
      have heard yours thus mentioned&mdash;scarcely was it uttered when Fiesco
      showed himself to the people. You know the man&mdash;how winningly he
      pleads&mdash;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&mdash; and Fiesco&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Bohemia is far from hence. If the emperor come speedily he may
      perhaps be present at your funeral feast.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (with astonishment). I know not what to think!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Twelve senators! My heart is too narrow to comprehend a
      twelvefold murder.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;he
      approved my projects&mdash;and thou shalt write what I will dictate to
      thee.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. I know not yet your purpose.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Sit down and write&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. But what am I to write? (Seats himself.)
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. The names of the twelve candidates for death&mdash;Francis
      Zenturione.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (writes). In gratitude for his vote he leads the funeral
      procession.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Cornelio Calva.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Calva.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Michael Zibo.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. To cool him after his disappointment in the procuratorship.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Thomas Asserato and his three brothers. (LOMELLINO stops.)
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (forcibly). And his three brothers&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (writes). Go on.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Fiesco of Lavagna.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Have a care! Have a care! That black stone will yet prove fatal
      to you.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Scipio Bourgognino.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. He may celebrate elsewhere his wedding&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Ay, where I shall be director of the nuptials. Raphael Sacco.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. I should intercede for his life until he shall have paid my
      five thousand crowns. (Writes.) Death strikes the balance.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Vincent Calcagno.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Calcagno. The twelfth I write at my own risk, unless our mortal
      enemy be overlooked.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. The end crowns all&mdash;Joseph Verrina.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. And what of Andreas?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. But, my lord, the paper?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Stop, prince. There is an error in our calculation. Fiesco does
      not attend the senate.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (looking back). Genoa will easily supply one more assassin.
      I'll see to that.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                       [Exeunt different ways.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   An Ante-chamber in FIESCO'S Palace.

   FIESCO, with papers before him, and MOOR.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Four galleys have entered the harbor, dost say?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Yes, they're at anchor in the port.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. That's well. Whence are these expresses?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. From Rome, Placentia, and France.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (opens the letters and runs over them). Welcome! welcome news! (In
      high spirits.) Let the messengers be treated in a princely manner.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Hem! (Going.).
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Stop, stop! Here's work for thee in plenty.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Command me. I am ready to act the setter or the bloodhound.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Yes, yes&mdash;the beards of the Mussulmen at the masthead, but the
      devil for a steersman. (Going.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Gently&mdash;one more precaution. Gianettino has new reasons to
      hate me and lay snares against my life. Go&mdash;sound the fellows of thy
      trade; see if thou canst not smell out some plot on foot against me. Visit
      the brothels&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. One more question, my lord. Suppose the people ask me&mdash;and that
      they will, I'll pawn my soul upon it&mdash;suppose they ask, "What does
      Fiesco think of Genoa?" Would you still wear the mask?&mdash;or&mdash;how
      shall I answer them?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;John Louis Fiesco&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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&mdash;that's all.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                      [Runs off.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XVI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO alone.
</pre>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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?
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XVII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, VERRINA, ROMANO, with a picture; SACCO, BOURGOGNINO,
   CALCAGNO.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Do not count the hours, Fiesco! Heavy burdens have in that
      interval weighed down my aged head. But enough of this&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. 'Tis on the increase.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. That judgment makes me of my daughter vain.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to the others). Sacco, Calcagno&mdash;all unfrequent visitors&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. And what just now employs you?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (apart to the others). Now, Genoese, observe!
    </p>
    <p>
      ROMANO (placing the picture). The light must fall upon it thus. Draw up
      that curtain&mdash;let fall the other,&mdash;right. (Standing on one
      side). It is the story of Virginia and Appius Claudius. (A long pause; all
      contemplate the picture.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to the painter, smiling). Could you desire greater applause? Your
      art has transformed this old man into a youthful enthusiast.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (exhausted). Where am I! What has become of them! They vanished
      like bubbles. You here, Fiesco! and the tyrant living!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Is it thus, Verrina, your hopes are answered?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Take courage, son! The Almighty has rejected the arm of FIESCO.
      Upon ours he must rely.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to ROMANO). Well&mdash;'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&mdash;the wealth of Genoa would
      scarcely reach the value of this Virginia. Away with it.
    </p>
    <p>
      ROMANO. Honor is the artist's noblest reward. I present it to you. (Offers
      to go away.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XVIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former, except ROMANO.
</pre>
    <p>
      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;&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Fiesco, my spirit bends to thine, but my knee cannot. Thy soul is
      great; but&mdash;rise, Genoese! (They rise.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;I'm known sufficiently to Genoa in being known to you. I have
      attained my utmost wish.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (throwing himself indignantly into a chair). Am I, then,
      nothing?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. But let us turn from thought to action. All the engines are
      prepared&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Patience! I have a word to say, which will more quickly rouse
      him than the trumpet of the last day. (To VERRINA&mdash;calls out to him
      emphatically.) Father! Awake! Thy Bertha will despair.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Who spoke those words? Genoese, to arms!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. When shall we next assemble?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. At noon to-morrow I'll hear your sentiments.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. 'Tis well&mdash;at noon to-morrow. Goodnight, Fiesco! Come,
      Bourgognino, you will hear something marvellous.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                    [Exeunt VERRINA and BOURGOGNINO.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to the others). Depart by the back gates, that Doria's spies may
      not suspect us.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                    [Exeunt SACCO and CALCAGNO.


</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XIX.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

   FIESCO, alone.

	 </pre>
    <p>
      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!&mdash;let me examine you more closely. A virtuous
      thought strengthens the heart of man, and boldly meets the day. Ha! I know
      you&mdash;robed in the livery of Satan&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;man thou
      ensnarest with beauty, riches, power. (After a pause, in a firm tone.) To
      gain a diadem is great&mdash;to reject it is divine! (Resolutely.) Perish
      the tyrant! Let Genoa be free&mdash;and I (much affected) will be its
      happiest citizen.
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003">
      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      ACT III.
    </h2>
    <p>
      SCENE I.&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

   Midnight. A dreary wilderness.

   VERRINA and BOURGOGNINO entering.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. This is the place.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. You could not choose a spot more awful. Father, if the deed
      you purpose be like the place&mdash;father&mdash;my hair will stand on end
      with horror.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;
      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&mdash;there will I speak to thee in agony, and thou
      shalt hear with despair.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Hear! what? I conjure you, father.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Youth! I fear. Youth, thy blood is warm and crimson&mdash;thy
      heart is soft and tender&mdash;such natures are alive to human kindness&mdash;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
      &mdash;if black congealed blood had closed the avenues of thy heart
      against the approaches of humanity&mdash;then would thy mind be attuned to
      the language of my grief, and thou wouldst look with admiration on my
      project.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. I will hear it, and embrace it as my own.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Not so, my son&mdash;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&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. My soul devours thy words.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Hear! But answer nothing&mdash;nothing, young man! Observe me&mdash;not
      a word&mdash;Fiesco must die.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (struck with astonishment). Die! Fiesco!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Die&mdash;I thank thee, God, 'tis out at last&mdash;Fiesco must
      die. My son&mdash;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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   [Exit hastily. BOURGOGNINO looks after him with speechless
   surprise, then follows slowly.

</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE II.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

   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.
</pre>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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&mdash;daring to embezzle a million,&mdash;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&mdash;that absorbs whate'er is precious in the eyes of men.
      The trophies of the conqueror&mdash;the immortal works of science and of
      art&mdash;the voluptuous pleasures of the epicure&mdash;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&mdash;one single breath&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;but united their crash can
      shake the eternal vault of heaven. I am resolved. (Walking up and down
      majestically.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE III.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO; LEONORA, entering with a look of anxiety.
</pre>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Pardon me, count. I fear I interrupt your morning rest.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (steps back with astonishment). Indeed, madam, you do surprise me
      not a little.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. That never happens to those who love.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Charming countess, you expose your beauty to the rude breath of
      morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. I know not why I should preserve its small remains for grief to
      feed on.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Grief, my love? I thought that to be free from cares of state was
      happiness.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with astonishment). Countess!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (agitated, hastens after and detains her). Leonora! For God's sake,
      stay!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Really, Madonna! All this is most surprising&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (aside). Ah! he changes color&mdash;now I revive.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Wait only two days, countess&mdash;then judge my conduct&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (extremely confused). No more, signora! No more&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (interrupting her, with vehemence). No, my Leonora! No!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;(The MOOR is heard approaching.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Leonora! grant me one trifling favor.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Everything, Fiesco&mdash;but indifference.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Well, well (significantly). Till Genoa be two days older, inquire
      not! condemn me not! (Leads her politely to another apartment.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE IV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO; the MOOR, entering hastily.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Whence come you thus out of breath?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Quick, my lord!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Has anything run into the net?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;they play at cards for heads, and yours is the chief
      stake. How do you like it?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (throws the letter on the table with horror). Thou woolly-pated
      rascal! How camest thou by that letter?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. His blood be on thy head! As for the letter, 'tis not to be paid
      with gold.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Yet I will be content with silver for it&mdash;(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&mdash;(presents another letter) number two!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (receives it with astonishment). Art thou mad?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Number two&mdash;(with an arrogant air&mdash;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?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Fellow, how many devils hast thou in pay?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. But one, sir, at your service; and he is in your grace's keeping.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. What! Doria's own signature! Whence dost thou bring this paper?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Even so&mdash;and that upon the morning of the ducal election, the
      third of this month.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Each head of them shall yield thee a ducat. Is there no talk about
      my galleys?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;whate'er the Count remains
      indebted to thee, the Duke shall pay.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (having read the letter throws it aside). Well said. What answer
      made she?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. She answered, that she still lamented the fate of the poor bereaved
      widow&mdash;that she was willing to give her satisfaction, and meant to
      forbid your grace's attentions.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with a sneer). Which of themselves may possibly cease sometime
      before the day of judgment. Is that all thy business, Hassan?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (ironically). My lord, the affairs of the ladies are next to those of
      state.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Without a doubt, and these especially. But for what purpose are
      these papers?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. To remove one plague by another. These powders the signora gave me,
      to mix one every day with your wife's chocolate.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (starting). Gave thee?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Donna Julia, Countess Imperiali.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (impatiently). I am to give your wife mixed with her chocolate. Such
      were the orders of Donna Julia Imperiali.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;abortive through
      a greater devil. Wondrous are thy ways! (To the MOOR.) Swear to me to
      obey, and keep this secret.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Very well. The latter I can afford&mdash;she paid me ready money.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. This note invites me to her. I'll be with you, madam!&mdash;and
      find means to lure you hither, too. Now haste thee, with all thy speed,
      and call together the conspirators.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. This order I anticipated, and therefore at my own risk appointed
      every one to come at ten o'clock precisely.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. The Moor has done his work&mdash;the Moor may go.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                         [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE V.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, VERRINA, BOURGOGNINO, CALCAGNO, SACCO.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO (meeting them). The tempest is approaching: the clouds rash
      together. Advance with caution. Let all the doors be locked.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Eight chambers have I made fast behind. Suspicion cannot come
      within a hundred steps of us.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Here is no traitor, unless our fear become one.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Fear cannot pass my threshold. Welcome he whose mind remains the
      same as yesterday. Be seated. (They seat themselves.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (walking up and down). I care not to sit in cold deliberation
      when action calls upon me.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Genoese, this hour is eventful.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Thou hast challenged us to consider a plan for dethroning the
      tyrant. Demand of us&mdash;we are here to answer thee.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. First, then, a question which, as it comes so late, you may think
      strange. Who is to fall? (A pause.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (leaning over FIESCO'S chair, with an expressive look). The
      tyrants.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="2pa346 (137K)" src="images/2pa346.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Well spoken. The tyrants. I entreat you weigh well the importance
      of the word. Is he who threatens the overthrow of liberty&mdash;or he who
      has it in his power&mdash;the greater tyrant?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. The first I hate, I fear the latter. Let Andreas Doria fall!
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (with emotion). Andreas? The old Andreas! who perhaps to-morrow
      may pay the debt of nature&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. Andreas? That mild old man!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Formidable is that old man's mildness, O my friend&mdash;the
      brutality of Gianettino only deserves contempt. "Let Andreas fall!" There
      spoke thy wisdom, Verrina.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. The chain of iron, and the cord of silk, alike are bonds. Let
      Andreas perish!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;both the Dorias will be present. In
      the house of God even a tyrant's cares are lulled to sleep. I have done.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (turning away). Calcagno, your plan is politic, but 'tis
      detestable. Raphael Sacco, yours?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (embracing him). And with armed hand wrest Fortune's favors
      from her. This is the voice of honor, and is mine.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;(VERRINA and
      BOURGOGNINO astonished&mdash;the others terrified.)
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. What! To-night! The tyrants are yet too powerful, our force too
      small.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. To-night! And naught prepared? The day is fast declining.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   Patroclus to the shades is gone,
   And he was more than thou.
</pre>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (after reading the papers). This is horrible.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Twelve victims at a blow!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. To-morrow in the senate-house!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL. Revenge! Revenge! Revenge! This very night!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Now you have reached the point. At sunset I will invite hither the
      principal malcontents&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. I doubt it not.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Doubtless.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. The plan is good. Now for the distribution of our parts.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (significantly). Genoese, you chose me, of your own accord, as
      chief of the conspiracy. Will you obey my further orders?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. As certainly as they shall be the best.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;observe me well&mdash;if I be not the head of the
      conspiracy, I am no more a member.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. A life of freedom is well worth some hours of slavery. We obey.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. I take the harbor.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. I the soldiers.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. I will learn the watchword.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. I will reconnoitre Genoa.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                [Exeunt.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE VI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, MOOR.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (entering). My lord&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (giving him a paper). Invite all those whose names are written here
      to see a play this evening at my palace.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Perhaps to act a part, and pay the admittance with their heads.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                   [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE VII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   MOOR, alone.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                   [Exit.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE VIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   An apartment in the house of the COUNTESS IMPERIALI.

   JULIA in dishabille. GIANETTINO enters, agitated.
</pre>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Good-evening, sister.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (rising). It must be something extraordinary which brings the
      crown-prince of Genoa to his sister!
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Sister, you are continually surrounded by butterflies and I by
      wasps. How is it possible that we should meet? Let's be seated.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. You almost excite my curiosity.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. When did Fiesco visit you last?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. A strange question. As if I burdened my memory with such trifles!
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. I must know&mdash;positively.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Well, then, he was here yesterday.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. And behaved without reserve?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. As usual.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. As much a coxcomb as ever.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (offended). Brother!
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (more vehemently). I say&mdash;as much a coxcomb&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (rises, with indignation). Sir! What do you take me for?
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (keeps his seat&mdash;sarcastically). For a mere piece of
      woman-flesh, wrapped up in a great&mdash;great patent of nobility. This
      between ourselves&mdash;there is no one by to hear us.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (enraged). Between ourselves&mdash;you are an impertinent
      jackanapes, and presume upon the credit of your uncle. No one by to hear
      us, indeed!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;(Going.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE IX.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former, LOMELLINO, entering.
</pre>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (to JULIA, respectfully). Pardon my boldness, gracious lady. (To
      GIANETTINO.) Certain affairs which cannot be delayed&mdash;&mdash;(GIANETTINO
      takes him aside; JULIA sits down angrily at the pianoforte and plays an
      allegro.)
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (to LOMELLINO). Is everything prepared for to-morrow?
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Everything, prince&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Fear nothing. You have that list at hand?
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (embarrassed). My lord&mdash;the list? I do not know&mdash;I
      must have left it at home in my other pocket.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. It does not signify&mdash;would that Spinola were but here.
      Fiesco will be found dead in his bed. I have taken measures for it.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. But it will cause great consternation.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;they who but looked on it were turned to stone. What may not be
      done, my boy, before stories are warmed to animation?
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Have you given the countess any intimation of it?
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Go! You're a rude unmannered creature. (GIANETTINO, going, meets
      FIESCO.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE X.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former; FIESCO.
</pre>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (stepping back). Ha!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with politeness). Prince, you spare me a visit which I was just
      now about to pay.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. And I, too, count, am pleased to meet you here.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (approaching JULIA courteously). Your charms, signora, always
      surpass expectation.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Fie! that in another would sound ambiguous&mdash;but I'm shocked at
      my dishabille&mdash;excuse me, count&mdash;(going).
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Oh, how ready are you men to cause confusion!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with a smile to GIANETTINO). In dress, as in the state&mdash;is it
      not so? (To JULIA.) This ribbon, too, is awkwardly put on. Sit down, fair
      countess&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (aside to LOMELLINO). Poor frivolous fellow!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (engaged about her bosom). Now see&mdash;this I prudently conceal.
      The senses should always be blind messengers, and not know the secret
      compact between nature and fancy.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. That is trifling.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;(politely)&mdash;may
      I have the honor of leading you so abroad, countess?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. The cunning flatterer! How artfully he lays his plans to ensnare
      me. No! I have a headache, and will stay at home.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (blushing, retires to a side apartment). Laura!
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (approaching FIESCO). Count, you remember an unpleasant
      circumstance&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. I shall never think of it without craving your pardon from my
      inmost soul&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Nor I without forgiving you from my heart's core. (JULIA returns,
      her dress a little altered.)
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Count, I just now recollect that you are going to cruise
      against the Turks&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. This evening we weigh anchor. On that account I had some
      apprehensions from which my friend Doria's kindness may deliver me.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (obsequiously). Most willingly. Command my utmost influence!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. The circumstance might cause a concourse toward the harbor, and
      about my palace, which the duke your uncle might misinterpret.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (in a friendly manner). I'll manage that for you. Continue your
      preparations, and may success attend your enterprise!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with a smile). I'm much obliged to you.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former&mdash;A GERMAN of the body-guard.
</pre>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. What now?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. Is that all? Report it no further.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (angrily). Out upon this fool's zeal! (To LOMELLINO, aside.)
      These are undoubtedly my Milanese.
    </p>
    <p>
      GERMAN. Does your grace command that they should be arrested?
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (aloud to LOMELLINO). Look to them, Lomellino. (To the GERMAN.)
      Begone! 'Tis all well. (Aside to LOMELLINO.) Bid that German beast be
      silent.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                [Exeunt LOMELLINO and GERMAN.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO (in another part of the room with JULIA&mdash;looks toward
      GIANETTINO.). Our friend Doria seems displeased. May I inquire the reason?
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. No wonder. These eternal messages.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                       [Exit hastily.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. The play awaits us, too, signora. May I offer you my hand?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Stay, let me take my cloak. 'Tis no tragedy I hope, count? It would
      haunt me in my dreams.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (sarcastically). 'Twill excite immoderate laughter.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   [He hands her out&mdash;the curtain falls.
</pre>
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004">
      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      ACT IV.
    </h2>
    <p>
      SCENE I.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

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.

</pre>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE II.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   ZENTURIONE entering.
</pre>
    <p>
      SENTINELS AT THE GATE (call out). Who goes there?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. A friend of Lavagna. (Goes across the court to the palace on
      the right.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINEL THERE. Back! (ZENTURIONE starts, and goes to the door on the
      left.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINEL ON THE LEFT. Back!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (stands still with surprise. A pause. Then to the SENTINEL on
      the left). Friend, which is the way to the theatre?
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINEL. Don't know.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (walks up and down with increasing surprise&mdash;then to the
      SENTINEL on the right). Friend, when does the play begin?
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINEL. Don't know.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (astonished, walks up and down. Perceives the weapons;
      alarmed). Friend, what mean these?
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINEL. Don't know.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (wraps himself up in his cloak, alarmed). Strange!
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINELS AT THE GATE (calling out). Who goes there?
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE III.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former, ZIBO entering.
</pre>
    <p>
      ZIBO. A friend of Lavagna.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Zibo, where are we?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. What mean you?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Look around you, Zibo.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Where? What?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. All the doors are guarded!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Here are arms&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. No one that will answer&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. 'Tis strange!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. What is it o'clock?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Past eight.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. How bitter cold it is!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Eight was the hour appointed.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (shaking his head). 'Tis not all as it should be here.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Fiesco means to jest with us&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. To-morrow will be the ducal election. Zibo, all's not right
      here, depend upon it.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Hush! hush!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. The right wing of the palace is full of lights.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Do you hear nothing?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. A confused murmuring within&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. The sound of clattering arms&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Horrible! horrible!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. A carriage&mdash;it stops at the gate!
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINELS AT THE GATE (calling out). Who goes there?
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE IV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former, four of the ASSERATO family.
</pre>
    <p>
      ASSERATO (entering). A friend of FIESCO.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. They are the four Asserati.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Good evening, friends!
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. We are going to the play.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. A pleasant journey to you!
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. Are you not going also?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Walk on. We'll just take a breath of air first.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. 'Twill soon begin. Come. (Going.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINEL. Back!
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. What can this mean?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (laughing). To keep you from the palace.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. Here's some mistake&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. That's plain enough. (Music is heard in the right wing.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. Do you hear the symphony? The comedy is going to begin.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. I think it has begun, and we are acting our parts as fools.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. I'm not over warm&mdash;I'll return home.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. Arms here, too?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Poh! Mere play-house articles.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Shall we stand waiting, like ghosts upon the banks of Acheron?
      Come, let us to a tavern! (All six go towards the gate.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINELS (calling loudly). Back! Back!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Death and the devil! We are caught.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. My sword shall open a passage!
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. Put it up! The count's a man of honor.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. We are sold! betrayed! The comedy was a bait, and we're caught in a
      trap.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. Heaven forbid! And yet I tremble for the event.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE V.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former&mdash;VERRINA, SACCO, and NOBLES.
</pre>
    <p>
      SENTINELS. Who goes there?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Friends of the house. (Seven NOBLES enter with him.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. These are his confidants. Now all will be explained.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. I'm glad of it.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO (to VERRINA). Verrina, you come opportunely to clear up the mystery.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. How so? What mean you?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. We are invited to a comedy.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Then we are going the same way.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (impatiently). Yes&mdash;the way of all flesh. You see&mdash;the
      doors are guarded. Why guard the doors?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Why these sentinels?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. We stand here like criminals beneath the gallows.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. The count will come himself.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. 'Twere well if he came a little faster. My patience begins to
      fail. (All the NOBLES walk up and down in the background.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (coming out of the palace, to VERRINA). How goes it in the
      harbor?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. They're all safe on board.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. The palace is full of soldiers.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. 'Tis almost nine.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. The count is long in coming.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. And yet too quick to gain his wishes. Bourgognino! There is a
      thought that freezes me.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Father, be not too hasty.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. It is impossible to be too hasty where delay is fatal. I must
      commit a second murder to justify the first.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. But&mdash;when must Fiesco fall?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. When Genoa is free Fiesco dies!
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINELS. Who goes there?
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former, FIESCO.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. A friend! (The NOBLES bow&mdash;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?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (in the same manner). As you wish.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to BOURGOGNINO). And you?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Quite prepared.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to SACCO). And you?
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. All's right.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. And Calcagno?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Is not yet arrived.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (aloud to the SENTINELS). Make fast the gates! (He takes off his
      hat, and steps forward with dignity towards the assembly.) My friends&mdash;I
      have invited you hither to a play&mdash;not as spectators, but to allot to
      each a part therein.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!&mdash;in Heaven's name!&mdash;
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      You feel your wrongs&mdash;then everything is gained. I have already paved
      your way to glory&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (vehemently, and agitated). Enough! Genoa shall be free! Be
      this our shout of onset against hell itself!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. And may he who is not roused by it pant at the slavish oar till the
      last trumpet break his chains&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;FIESCO aside
      to VERRINA.) Friend, it went as I could wish.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Be not too certain. Upon the left I saw countenances that grew
      pale, and knees that tottered.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (enraged). Twelve senators! Infernal villany! Seize each a
      sword! (All, except two, eagerly take up the weapons that lie in
      readiness.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Thy name, too, Bourgognino, is written there.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Ay, and if Heaven permit, it shall be written to-day upon the
      throat of Gianettino.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Two swords remain&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Ah! What sayest thou?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Two amongst us have not taken swords.
    </p>
    <p>
      ASSERATO. My brothers cannot bear the sight of blood&mdash;pray spare
      them!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (vehemently). What! Not a tyrant's blood! Tear them to pieces&mdash;cowards!
      Let such bastards be driven from the republic! (Some of the assembly
      attack the two ASSERATI.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;a knocking heard at the gate.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINEL. Who is there?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (without, eagerly). Open the gate! A friend! for God's sake,
      open!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. It is Calcagno&mdash;heavens! What can this mean?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Open the gate, soldiers.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former&mdash;CALCAGNO, out of breath.
</pre>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. All is lost! all is lost! Fly, every one that can!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. What's lost? Have they flesh of brass? Are our swords made of
      rushes?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Consider, Calcagno! An error now is fatal.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. We are betrayed! Your Moor, Lavagna, is the rascal! I come from
      the senate-house. He had an audience of the duke.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Home&mdash;to kill my Bertha&mdash;and then return to fall
      with thee.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Well, if you can laugh I'll believe you&mdash;or never more think
      you man.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Shame on you, men! to fail in such a boyish trial! Resume your
      arms&mdash;you must fight like lions to atone for this disgrace. (Aside to
      CALCAGNO.) Were you there yourself?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (aloud). So the old man is gone to bed&mdash;we'll drum him out of
      his feathers. (Low.) Did he talk long with the duke?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (low). My sudden fright and your impending danger drove me away
      in haste&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (aloud). See how our countrymen still tremble.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (aloud). You should have carried on the jest. (Low.) For God's
      sake, friend, what will this artifice avail us?
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. The Moor's first word must have been conspiracy; for the old man
      started back as pale as ashes.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (confused). Hum! the devil is an artful counsellor. Calcagno&mdash;
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SENTINELS. Who is without?
    </p>
    <p>
      A VOICE. The guard of the duke's. (The NOBLES rush about the court in
      despair.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (stepping forward). Oh, my friends! Be not alarmed! I am here&mdash;
      quick, remove these arms&mdash;be men. I entreat you&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO (as if coming from the palace). Three GERMAN SOLDIERS
   bringing the MOOR, bound.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Who calls me?
    </p>
    <p>
      GERMANS. Bring us to the count!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. The count is here, who wants me?
    </p>
    <p>
      GERMAN (presenting his arms). Greeting from the duke!&mdash;he delivers up
      to your grace this Moor in chains, who had basely slandered you: the rest
      this note will tell.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (hallooing after them). Mine, too&mdash;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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                   [Exeunt GERMANS, the NOBLES return.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE IX.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, the CONSPIRATORS, MOOR (looking at them unconcerned.)
</pre>
    <p>
      THE CONSPIRATORS (shuddering at the sight of the MOOR). Ha! what means
      this?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (after reading the note with suppressed anger). Genoese, the danger
      is past&mdash;but the conspiracy is likewise at an end&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (astonished). What! Are the Dorias dead?
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Speak, count, we are amazed!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the rest look at each other.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Well, Fiesco?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with dignity). Shall Doria surpass me in magnanimity? Shall the
      race of Fiesco want this one virtue? No, by my honor&mdash;disperse&mdash;I'll
      go and own the whole&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      CONSPIRATORS. Bind him! throw him down!
    </p>
    <p>
      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,
      &mdash;I stand here at liberty, and might force my way with ease, had I
      the will&mdash;but I will stay&mdash;I have other thoughts&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Are they thoughts of duty?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (haughtily). Ha! boy! learn first to know thy own&mdash;and towards
      me restrain that tongue! Be appeased, Genoese,&mdash;our plans remain
      unaltered. (To the MOOR, whose cords he cuts with a sword). Thou hast the
      merit of causing a noble act&mdash;fly!
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (enraged). What? Shall that scoundrel live,&mdash;he who has
      betrayed us all?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Live&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                     [Exit, laughing.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE X.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, CONSPIRATORS. Enter SERVANT.
</pre>
    <p>
      SERVANT. The Countess Imperiali has already asked three times for your
      grace.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   LEONORA, ARABELLA, and ROSA.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA. You are to conceal yourself behind the tapestry&mdash;what can the
      count intend?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. Fear nothing; our timidity subdues our curiosity.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      ROSA (alarmed). Oh, heavens! what noise is that without?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. It is the soldier who stands there as sentinel. (The SENTINEL
      without calls, "Who goes there?")
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Some one approaches. Quick! behind the curtain. (They conceal
      themselves.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   JULIA and FIESCO, in conversation.
</pre>
    <p>
      JULIA (much agitated). Forbear, count! Your passion meets no longer an
      indifferent ear, but fires the raging blood&mdash;where am I? Naught but
      seducing night is here! Whither has your artful tongue lured my unguarded
      heart?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. To this spot where timid love grows bold, and where emotions
      mingle unrestrained.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Rather, Julia, thy blushes would inflame my passions, and urge
      them to their utmost height. (Kisses her hand eagerly.)
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Thy countenance is glowing as thy words! Ah! and my own, too, burns
      with guilty fire. Hence, I entreat thee, hence&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (more pressing). Why so alarmed, my love? Shall the mistress fear
      her slave?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;my pride alone defied your
      artifices&mdash;thus far, my principles prevailed, and all your arts were
      foiled&mdash;but in despair of every other suit you made appeal to Julia's
      passion&mdash;and here my principles deserted me&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with levity). And what loss was that?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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?&mdash;surprise the latter&mdash;check-mate! and the
      whole board is thrown into confusion. (After a pause&mdash;with
      earnestness), behold the picture of our boasting weakness. Be generous,
      Fiesco!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. And yet, my Julia&mdash;where could'st thou bestow this treasure
      better than on my endless passion?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;to preserve thy love, I fear they'll prove too
      weak. Fie upon me!&mdash;what am I uttering? (Hides her face with her
      hands.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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)&mdash;furies, when we
      avenge it. Hear me! Should'st thou strike me to the heart with coldness?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (with astonishment). Count! what sudden change is this?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;I wound the pride of all my sex&mdash;my
      sex will all detest me&mdash;Fiesco&mdash;I adore thee&mdash;(falls at his
      feet).
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (steps back without raising her, laughing with exultation). That I
      am sorry for, signora&mdash;(rings the bell&mdash;draws the tapestry, and
      discovers LEONORA). Here is my wife&mdash;an angel of a woman! (Embracing
      her.)
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (with a shriek). Unheard-of treachery!
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The CONSPIRATORS, entering in a body&mdash;LADIES on
   the other side&mdash;FIESCO, JULIA, and LEONORA.
</pre>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Oh, my husband, that was too cruel!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. A wicked heart deserved no less. I owed this satisfaction to your
      tears. (To the company.) No,&mdash;my friends&mdash;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&mdash;they start with horror.)
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (biting her lips with rage). Good! Good! Very good, Sir! (Going.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (starting up). It is not to be borne. But tremble! Doria rules in
      Genoa, and I am Doria's sister&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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&mdash;
      (pointing to JULIA.) For this I cast away this precious jewel&mdash;(pointing
      to LEONORA); and by shining bait ensnared my prey. I thank you for your
      complaisance, signora&mdash;(to JULIA;) and resign the trappings of my
      assumed character. (Delivers her the miniature with a bow.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (to FIESCO, in a supplicating tone). She weeps, my Lodovico. May
      your Leonora, trembling, entreat you?
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA (enraged, to LEONORA). Silence, detested woman!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to a SERVANT). Be polite to my friend; escort this lady. She has a
      mind to see my prison-chamber&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      JULIA. Curses on thee, black, detested hypocrite! (Enraged, to LEONORA.)
      Rejoice not at thy triumph! He will destroy thee also, and himself&mdash;and
      then despair! (Rushing out!)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XIV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   LEONORA and FIESCO.
</pre>
    <p>
      LEONORA (approaching with anxiety). Fiesco! Fiesco! I understand but half
      your meaning; yet I begin to tremble.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (clasping her hands together, and throwing herself into a chair).
      O God! My very fears! I am undone!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;Lavagna's
      counts exist no longer&mdash;a race of princes shall begin.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the
      only ball has pierced Fiesco's heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (tenderly seizing her hand). Be calm, my love. The only ball will
      not strike me.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Be not alarmed. Fortune and I are better friends.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (pacing the room in great emotion). To be irresolute is the most
      certain danger. He that aspires to greatness must be daring.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Greatness, Fiesco! Alas! thy towering spirit ill accords with the
      fond wishes of my heart. Should fortune favor thy attempt&mdash;shouldst
      thou obtain dominion&mdash;alas! I then shall be but the more wretched.
      Condemned to misery shouldst thou fail&mdash;if thou succeed, to misery
      still greater. Here is no choice but evil. Unless he gain the ducal power,
      Fiesco perishes&mdash;if I embrace the duke I lose my husband.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. I understand you not.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (starting). Leonora, cease! These thoughts are dreadful.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. And yet the picture is not finished. Let love be sacrificed to
      greatness&mdash;and even peace of mind&mdash;if Fiesco but remained
      unchanged. O God! that thought is racking torture. Seldom do angels ascend
      the throne&mdash;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&mdash;these abortions of ambition and
      weakness&mdash;who presume to sit in judgment 'twixt the godhead and
      mortality. Wicked servants&mdash;worse rulers.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (walking about much agitated). Leonora, cease! The bridge is raised
      behind me&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with great emotion). Leonora&mdash;what hast thou done? (He falls,
      overcome, on her neck.) I shall never more dare to meet the eyes of
      Genoa's citizens.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;FIESCO disengages himself&mdash;all
      the conspirators enter.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XV.
    </p>
    <p>
      CONSPIRATORS. The hour is come!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to LEONORA, firmly). Farewell! forever unless Genoa to-morrow be
      laid prostrate at thy feet. (Going to rush out.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (cries out). The countess faints! (LEONORA in a swoon&mdash;all
      run to support her.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;she opens her eyes (jumps up resolutely). Now to close
      Doria's! (Conspirators rush out.)
    </p>
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005">
      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      ACT V.
    </h2>
    <p>
      SCENE I.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">

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.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. The old man has kept his word. The lights are all extinguished in
      the palace&mdash;the guards dismissed&mdash;I'll ring. (Rings at the
      gate.) Ho! Halloo! Awake, Doria! Thou art betrayed. Awake! Halloo! Halloo!
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS (appearing at the balcony). Who rings there?
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS (with dignity). I remember when the raging sea contended with my
      gallant vessel&mdash;when her keel cracked and the wind split her topmast.
      Yet Andreas Doria then slept soundly. Who sends these executioners!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. A man more terrible than your raging sea&mdash;John Louis Fiesco.
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS (laughs). You jest, my friend. Come in the daytime to play your
      tricks. Midnight suits them badly.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Dost thou then despise thy monitor?
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. I thank him and retire to rest. Fiesco, wearied with his rioting,
      sleeps, and has no time to think of Doria.
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Fiesco has a noble mind. I never injured him, and he will not
      betray me.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Fiesco has a noble mind and yet betrays thee. He gives thee proof
      of both.
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. There is a guard, which would defy Fiesco's power, unless he led
      against them legions of spirits.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (scornfully). That guard I should be glad to see to despatch it
      with a message for eternity.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE II.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   GIANETTINO (in a scarlet mantle). LOMELLINO&mdash;(Servants going
   before them with torches).
</pre>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (stops). Who was it that commanded the alarm to be beat?
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. A cannon was fired on board one of the galleys.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO. The slaves perhaps have risen in mutiny. (Firing heard at the
      gate of St. Thomas.)
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. Hark! A shot!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE III.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former; BOURGOGNINO, with some CONSPIRATORS, coming
   from the gate of St. Thomas.
</pre>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Sebastian Lascaro was a brave soldier.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. He defended himself like a bear till he fell.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (steps back startled). What do I hear? (to his servants). Stop!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Who goes there with torches?
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (to GIANETTINO). Prince, they are enemies. Turn to the left.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (calls to then peremptorily). Who goes there with the torches?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Stand! Your watchword?
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (draws his sword fiercely). Loyalty and Doria!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash; (runs
      him through with his sword).
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (falling). Murder! Murder! Murder! Revenge me, Lomellino&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO and SERVANTS (flying). Help! Murder! Murder!
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE (halloing with vehemence). Doria is down. Stop the Count
      Lomellino! (LOMELLINO is taken).
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO (kneeling). Spare but my life, I'll join your party.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (looking at GIANETTINO). Is this monster yet alive? Let the
      coward fly. (LOMELLINO escapes.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. St. Thomas' gate our own! Gianettino slain! Haste some of you
      and tell Fiesco.
    </p>
    <p>
      GIANETTINO (heaving himself from the ground in agony). Fiesco! Damnation!
      (Dies.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;her dungeon is thrown open. I'll follow thee, and
      bring the bridal kiss. (They separate through different streets.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE IV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   ANDREAS DORIA, GERMANS.
</pre>
    <p>
      GERMAN. The storm drove that way. Mount your horse, duke!
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Let me cast a parting look at Genoa's towers! No; it is not a
      dream. Andreas is betrayed.
    </p>
    <p>
      GERMAN. The enemy is all around us. Away! Fly! Beyond the boundaries!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;my
      career is ended. (CALCAGNO appears at a distance, with CONSPIRATORS.)
    </p>
    <p>
      GERMAN. Danger is near. Fly, prince! (Drums beat.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Hark, Germans, bark! These are the Genoese whose chains I broke.
      (Hiding his face.) Do your countrymen thus recompense their benefactors?
    </p>
    <p>
      GERMAN. Away! Away! while we stay here, and notch their swords upon our
      German bones. (CALCAGNO comes nearer.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Save yourselves! Leave me! and go, declare the horrid story to
      the shuddering nations that Genoa slew its father&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (calls out). Who goes there? What have we here?
    </p>
    <p>
      GERMAN. German blows&mdash;(retreat fighting, and carry off the body of
      GIANETTINO.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE V.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   LEONORA, in male attire, ARABELLA following&mdash;
   they walk along timidly.
</pre>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. Come, my lady, pray let us hasten onward.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. This way the tumult rages&mdash;hark! was not that a dying groan?
      Ah, they surround him! At Fiesco's breast they point their fatal muskets&mdash;at
      my breast they point them. Hold! hold! It is my husband! (Throws her arms
      up in agony.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. For heaven's sake, my lady!
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. No, signora. He is the great deliverer of Genoa.
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (emphatically). Ha! that would indeed be glorious! And shall
      Leonora tremble?&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA (clasping her hands together). All gracious heaven!
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA. Softly! What strikes my foot? Here is a hat&mdash;and here a
      mantle! A sword, too! (she lifts it up)&mdash;a heavy sword, my Arabella;
      but I can carry it, and the sword shall not disgrace its bearer. (The
      alarm-bell sounds.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. Hark! hark! How terrible it sounds yonder, from the tower of the
      Dominicans! God have mercy on us!
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;and shall his wife be
      fearful? (Alarm-bells from three other towers.) No&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. My gracious lady, how wildly do you rave. (Alarm-bells and drums
      are heard.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. Great God! You will not act thus madly?
    </p>
    <p>
      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!
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO (entering with CONSPIRATORS). Who goes there&mdash;Doria or Fiesco?
    </p>
    <p>
      LEONORA (with enthusiasm). Fiesco and liberty. (Retires into another
      street. A tumult, ARABELLA lost in the crowd.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   SACCO, with a number of followers. CALCAGNO,
   meeting him with others.
</pre>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Andreas has escaped.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. Unwelcome tidings to Fiesco.
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. Numbers have flocked already to our standard, and all the gates are
      ours.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. I hear they still are fighting desperately at the citadel.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. Bourgognino is amongst them. Where is Verrina?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. He guards, like Cerberus, the passage between Genoa and the sea&mdash;an
      anchovy could scarcely pass him.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. I'll rouse the suburbs&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. I'll away to the market-place. Drummers, strike up! (They march
      off, drums beating.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   MOOR. A troop of THIEVES, with lighted matches.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE VIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   BOURGOGNINO&mdash;BERTHA, disguised as a boy.
</pre>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Rest here, dear youth; thou art in safety. Dost thou bleed?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (in a feigned voice). No; not at all.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (with energy). Rise, then, I'll lead thee where thou mayst
      gain wounds for Genoa&mdash;wounds beautiful like these. (Uncovering his
      arm.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (starting). Heavens!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Art thou frightened, youth? Too early didst thou put on the
      man. What age hast thou?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Fifteen years.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. That is unfortunate! For this night's business thou art five
      years too young. Who is thy father?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. The truest citizen in Genoa.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Gently, boy! That name belongs alone to the father of my
      betrothed bride. Dost thou know the house of Verrina?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. I should think so.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (eagerly). And knowest thou his lovely daughter?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Her name is Bertha.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (in a soft voice). Scipio!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (struck with astonishment). By my sword! I know that voice.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (falling upon his neck). By my heart! I am well known here.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Bertha! (Alarm-bells sound in the suburbs&mdash;a tumult&mdash;
      BOURGOGNINO and BERTHA embrace, and are lost in the crowd.) [NOTE]
    </p>
    <p>
      [NOTE] In lieu of this scene Schiller substituted the following, during
      his stay at Leipzig in 1786, for the use of the theatre there:&mdash;
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   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.
</pre>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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&mdash;into this dungeon it never penetrates. (Again
      a pause; she becomes still more alarmed.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;pause&mdash;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&mdash;they draw the bolts&mdash;(rushing towards the background). Men!
      Men! Liberty! Deliverance! (BOURGOGNINO enters hastily with a drawn sword,
      followed by several torch-bearers.)
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (calling out loudly). Thou art free, Bertha! The tyrant is
      dead! This sword has passed through his heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (running into his arms). My deliverer! my angel!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. Oh, heavens! This dreadful uproar, these alarm-bells, then, were
      for me?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. For thee, Bertha! They are our marriage chimes. Leave this
      horrid dungeon and follow me to the altar.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. God bless you, my children!
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (falling at his feet). O my father!
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (lays his hands on them both&mdash;a pause&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (together). How, my father? Will you not accompany
      us thither?
    </p>
    <p>
      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?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (holds him back alarmed). What is your purpose! I'll go with
      you.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (hanging anxiously on BOURGOGNINO). Heavens! what means this,
      Bourgognino? What is my father meditating?
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO (determinedly). Verrina, I must stay; the danger is not yet
      past.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE IX.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO and ZIBO from different sides. Attendants.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO (in great anger). Who set fire to those houses?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. The citadel is taken.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Who set those houses on fire?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO (to the attendants). Despatch a guard to apprehend the villains.
      (Some soldiers go.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Will they make me an incendiary? Hasten with the engines!
      (Attendants go.) But are you sure that Gianettino has fallen?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. So they say.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (wildly). They say so only! Who say? Declare, upon your honor, has
      he escaped?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO (doubtfully). If I may trust my eyes against the assertion of a
      nobleman, then&mdash;Gianettino lives.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (starting). Zibo, your eyes may cost your head&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. 'Tis but eight minutes since I saw him in the crowd dressed in his
      scarlet cloak and yellow plume.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the richest in all
      Italy&mdash;this diamond shall reward the man who brings me tidings of
      Gianettino's death. (ZIBO hastens away.) Fly, Zibo!
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE X.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, SACCO, the MOOR, SOLDIERS.
</pre>
    <p>
      SACCO. We found this Moor throwing a lighted match into the convent of the
      Jesuits.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Plague on it! that's an awkward piece of business. Is there no way
      out of it?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. No.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Send me awhile to the galleys&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (beckoning to the attendants). To the gallows.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (impudently). Then I'll turn Christian.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. The church refuses the dregs of infidelity.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR (in an insinuating manner). At least send me drunk into eternity!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Sober.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. Don't hang me up, however, beside a Christian church!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. A man of honor keeps his word. I promised thee a gallows of thy
      own.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. No more prating, heathen! we've business of more consequence.
    </p>
    <p>
      MOOR. But, stay! Perhaps the rope may break?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (to SACCO). Let it be double.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO&mdash;LEONORA appearing at a distance, in the scarlet
   cloak of GIANETTINO.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO (perceiving her, rushes forward&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   FIESCO, CALCAGNO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO:
   SOLDIERS, with drums and colors.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO (advancing towards them in triumph). Genoese&mdash;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!
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. And I come to inform you that two-thirds of Genoa have declared
      for our party, and swear obedience to Fiesco's standard.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. By me Verrina sends his greeting to you from the admiral's galley,
      with the dominion of the sea.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. By me the governor of the city sends his keys and staff of
      office.
    </p>
    <p>
      SACCO. And in me (kneeling) the less and greater senate of the republic
      kneel down before their master, and supplicate for favor and protection.
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Let me be the first to welcome the illustrious conquerer within
      the walls. Bow your colors! Hail, Duke of Genoa!
    </p>
    <p>
      ALL (taking off their hats). Hail! Hail, Duke of Genoa! (March of triumph&mdash;FIESCO
      stands the whole time with his head sunk upon his breast, in a meditating
      posture.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. First allow me to listen to the dictates of my heart. I was
      obliged to leave a most dear person in anxious apprehension&mdash;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.)
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. Shall this murderous villain lie here, and hide his infamy in
      obscurity?
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Plant his head upon a halberd.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. Let his mangled carcass sweep the streets! (They hold lights toward
      the body.)
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (terrified and in a low voice). Look, Genoese! By heavens, this
      is not the face of Gianettino! (All look at the body.)
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
      <img alt="2pa384 (145K)" src="images/2pa384.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (fixes his eyes upon it with an eager look, which he withdraws
      slowly&mdash;then, with convulsive wildness, exclaims). No! ye devils!
      That is not the face of Gianettino&mdash;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&mdash;The
      CONSPIRATORS stand around in groups, shuddering&mdash;a dead silence.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (raising himself exhausted&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XIII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   The former&mdash;ARABELLA enters weeping.
</pre>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (approaching her&mdash;with a low and trembling voice.) Was Leonora
      thy mistress?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA (with pleasure). Are you there, my most gracious and dear good
      lord? Be not displeased with us. We could no longer restrain her.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (in alarm). Restrain her! Wretch! From what?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. From following&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (violently). Ha! From following what?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. The tumult&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. What was her dress?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. A Scarlet mantle.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (in a transport of rage). Get thee to the abyss of hell! The
      mantle?
    </p>
    <p>
      ARABELLA. Lay here upon the ground.
    </p>
    <p>
      SOME OF THE CONSPIRATORS (talking apart). 'Twas here that Gianettino was
      killed.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (ready to faint, to ARABELLA). Thy mistress is found&mdash;(ARABELLA
      advances anxiously&mdash;FIESCO casts his eyes round the whole circle&mdash;then,
      with a faltering voice)&mdash;'Tis true&mdash;'Tis true&mdash;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&mdash;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!&mdash;why
      I? Why not these as well? Why is my sorrow denied the balm of being shared
      with others?
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (timidly). Most gracious duke!
    </p>
    <p>
      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!&mdash;could
      hear the horrid shrieks of damned souls! (Approaching the body,
      trembling.) Here lies my murdered wife. Nay&mdash;that says too little&mdash;the
      wife that I myself have murdered. Oh! 'Tis the cunningest of hell's
      devices&mdash;first I was allured to the topmost pinnacle of joy&mdash;to
      the very threshold of heaven&mdash;then&mdash;in an instant hurled
      headlong down&mdash;and then&mdash;oh that my breath could send a
      pestilence to hell! And then was made the murderer of my wife&mdash;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&mdash;a
      pause.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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&mdash;methought I saw the lovely blush that tinged thy modest
      cheek&mdash;the timid heaving of thy beauteous bosom beneath the snowy
      gauze&mdash; 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&mdash;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&mdash;with
      whom can I share my splendor? (He weeps bitterly, and throws himself on
      the dead body. Compassion marked upon the countenances of all.)
    </p>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO. She was, indeed, a most excellent lady.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZIBO. This event must be concealed from the people. 'Twould damp the ardor
      of our party and elevate the enemy with hope.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;I will give to Genoa a prince more truly great than Europe ever
      saw. Away!&mdash;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!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                     [Exeunt, with music and colors.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XIV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   ANDREAS, LOMELLINO.
</pre>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. Yonder they go, with shouts of exultation.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. They are intoxicated with success. The gates are deserted and
      all are hastening toward the senate-house.
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS. It was my nephew only whom Genoa could not brook. My nephew is no
      more. Hear, Lomellino!
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. What, duke&mdash;still&mdash;do you still hope?
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS (sternly). And dost thou tremble for my life, and mock me with the
      name of duke the while thou wouldst forbid me hope.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. My gracious lord, a raging nation lies in Fiesco's scale; what
      counterpoise in yours?
    </p>
    <p>
      ANDREAS (with dignity and animation). Heaven!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;and further say, Andreas begs but so
      much ground within his fatherland as may contain his bones.
    </p>
    <p>
      LOMELLINO. I obey; but I despair of success. (Going.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   [Exit&mdash;LOMELLINO hastens into another street&mdash;Shouts are heard,
   with trumpets and drums.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XV.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   VERRINA (coming from the harbor), BERTHA, and BOURGOGNINO.
</pre>
    <p>
      VERRINA. What mean these shouts?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. They proclaim Fiesco duke.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA (to BOURGOGNINO, timidly). Scipio! My father's looks are dreadful&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Leave me, my children. O Genoa! Genoa!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. The populace adore him, and with transports hailed him as
      their duke. The nobles looked on with horror, but dared not oppose it.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;never more. Hasten
      to Marseilles, and&mdash;(embracing them mournfully and with energy)&mdash;may
      the Almighty guide you. [Exit hastily.
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. I beseech thee, say, on what dreadful project does my father
      brood?
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. Didst thou understand thy father?
    </p>
    <p>
      BERTHA. He bade us fly. Merciful Heaven! Fly on our bridal day!
    </p>
    <p>
      BOURGOGNINO. He spoke it, and we must obey.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                     [Exeunt towards the harbor.
</pre>
    <p>
      SCENE XVI.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   VERRINA, and FIESCO (in the ducal habit), meeting.
</pre>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Welcome, Verrina! I was anxious to meet thee.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. I also sought Fiesco.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Does Verrina perceive no alteration in his friend?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (with reserve). I wish for none.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. But do you see none?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (without looking at him). I should hope not!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. I ask, do you perceive none?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (after a slight glance). None!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (with astonishment). Forbid it, Heaven! That price is too enormous
      even for a dukedom.
    </p>
    <p>
      VEERINA (muttering). Hum! Is liberty then out of fashion, that republics
      are so lightly thrown away upon the first that offers himself?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (bites his lips). Verrina, say this to no one but Fiesco.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;the patriot&mdash; (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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. No&mdash;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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (angrily). It were as easy to tear Italy from the bosom of the
      ocean as to shake this stubborn enthusiast from his prejudices.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;just tell me, duke, what crime the
      poor wretch committed whom you ordered to be hung up at the church of the
      Jesuits?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. The scoundrel set fire to the city.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Yet the scoundrel left the laws untouched.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Verrina presumes upon my friendship.
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Away with friendship! I tell thee I no longer love thee. I swear
      to thee that I hate thee&mdash;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&mdash;(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!&mdash;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?
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (sharply). Let them be the first fruits of my tyranny. Go, and
      announce to them their deliverance.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Man, thou art dreadful; yet I know not why I must follow thee.
      (Both go toward the sea.)
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;(he
      embraces him eagerly). Surely never beat two greater hearts together&mdash;we
      loved each other so fraternally&mdash;(weeping violently on Fiasco's
      neck). Fiesco! Fiesco! Thou makest a void in my bosom which all mankind,
      thrice numbered, could not fill up.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (much affected). Be still, my friend.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;Fiesco&mdash;these
      are my first tears&mdash;throw off this purple!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Peace.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;Fiesco (falling on his knee), this is the
      first bending of my knee&mdash;throw off this purple!
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Rise, and no longer irritate me!
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO. Why do you pull my cloak? It falls&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (with bitter irony). If the purple falls the duke must after it.
      (He pushes him into the sea.)
    </p>
    <p>
      FIESCO (calls out of the waves). Help, Genoa! Help! Help thy duke!
      (Sinks.)
    </p>
    <p>
      SCENE XVII.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   CALCAGNO, SACCO, ZIBO, ZENTURIONE, Conspirators, People.
</pre>
    <p>
      CALCAGNO (crying out). Fiesco! Fiesco! Andreas is returned&mdash;half
      Genoa joins Andreas. Where is Fiesco?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA (in a firm tone). Drowning.
    </p>
    <p>
      ZENTURIONE. Does hell or madness prompt thy answer?
    </p>
    <p>
      VERRINA. Drowned&mdash;if that sound better. I go to join Andreas.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
   (The CONSPIRATORS stand in groups, astonished. The curtain falls.)
   (The CONSPIRATORS stand in groups, astonished. The curtain falls.)

</pre>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">





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