VERRINA and BOURGOGNINO entering.
BOURGOGNINO (stands still). Whither are you leading me, father. The heavy grief that hung upon your brow when first you bade me follow you still seems to labor in your panting breast. Break this dreadful silence! Speak. I will go no further.
VERRINA. This is the place.
BOURGOGNINO. You could not choose a spot more awful. Father, if the deed you purpose be like the place—father—my hair will stand on end with horror.
VERRINA. And yet 'tis cheerfulness itself to the gloom that enwraps my soul. Follow me to yon churchyard, where corruption preys on the mouldering remnants of mortality, and death holds his fearful banquet— where shrieks of damned souls delight the listening fiends, and sorrow weeps her fruitless tears into the never-filling urn. Follow me, my son, to where the condition of this world is changed; and God throws off his attributes of mercy—there will I speak to thee in agony, and thou shalt hear with despair.
BOURGOGNINO. Hear! what? I conjure you, father.
VERRINA. Youth! I fear. Youth, thy blood is warm and crimson—thy heart is soft and tender—such natures are alive to human kindness—this warmth of feeling melts my obdurate wisdom. If the frost of age or sorrow's leaden pressure had chilled the springtide vigor of thy spirits —if black congealed blood had closed the avenues of thy heart against the approaches of humanity—then would thy mind be attuned to the language of my grief, and thou wouldst look with admiration on my project.
BOURGOGNINO. I will hear it, and embrace it as my own.
VERRINA. Not so, my son—Verrina will not wound thy heart with it. O Scipio, heavy burdens lie on me. A thought more dark and horrible than night, too vast to be contained within the breast of man! Mark me—my hand alone shall execute the deed; but my mind cannot alone support the weight of it. If I were proud, Scipio, I might say greatness unshared is torture. It was a burden to the Deity himself, and he created angels to partake his counsels. Hear, Scipio!
BOURGOGNINO. My soul devours thy words.
VERRINA. Hear! But answer nothing—nothing, young man! Observe me—not a word—Fiesco must die.
BOURGOGNINO (struck with astonishment). Die! Fiesco!
VERRINA. Die—I thank thee, God, 'tis out at last—Fiesco must die. My son—die by my hand. Now, go. There are deeds too high for human judgment. They appeal alone to heaven's tribunal. Such a one is this. Go! I neither ask thy blame nor approbation. I know my inward struggles, and that's enough. But hear! These thoughts might weary out thy mind even to madness. Hear! Didst thou observe yesterday with what pride he viewed his greatness reflected from our wondering countenances? The man whose smiles deceived all Italy, will he endure equals in Genoa? Go! 'Tis certain that Fiesco will overthrow the tyrant. 'Tis as certain he will become a tyrant still more dangerous.
[Exit hastily. BOURGOGNINO looks after him with speechless surprise, then follows slowly.
FIESCO at the window.
FIESCO. What do I see! The moon hath hid its face. The morn is rising fiery from the sea. Wild fancies have beset my sleep, and kept my soul convulsed by one idea. Let me inhale the pure, refreshing breeze. (He opens a window; the city and ocean appear red with the tint of morning. FIESCO walking up and down the room with energy.) I the greatest man in Genoa! And should not lesser souls bow down before the greater? But is not this to trample upon virtue? (Musing.) Virtue? The elevated mind is exposed to other than ordinary temptations—shall it then be governed by the ordinary rules of virtue? Is the armor which encases the pigmy's feeble frame suited to the giant? (The sun rises over Genoa.) This majestic city mine! (Spreading out his arms as if to embrace it.) To flame above it like the god of day! To rule over it with a monarch mind! To hold in subjection all the raging passions, all the insatiable desires in this fathomless ocean! 'Tis certain, though the cunning of the thief ennoble not the theft, yet doth the prize ennoble the thief. It is base to filch a purse—daring to embezzle a million,—but it is immeasurably great to steal a diadem. As guilt extends its sphere, the infamy decreaseth. (A pause, then with energy.) To obey! or to command! A fearful dizzying gulf—that absorbs whate'er is precious in the eyes of men. The trophies of the conqueror—the immortal works of science and of art—the voluptuous pleasures of the epicure—the whole wealth encompassed by the seas. To obey! or to command! To be, or not to be! The space between is as wide as from the lowest depths of hell to the throne of the Almighty. (In an elevated tone.) From that awful height to look down securely upon the impetuous whirlpool of mankind, where blind fortune holds capricious sway! To quaff at the fountainhead unlimited draughts from the rich cup of pleasure! To hold that armed giant law beneath my feet in leading-strings, and see it struggle with fruitless efforts against the sacred power of majesty! To tame the stubborn passions of the people, and curb them with a playful rein, as a skilful horseman guides the fiery steed! With a breath—one single breath—to quell the rising pride of vassals, whilst the prince, with the motion of his sceptre, can embody even his wildest dreams of fancy! Ah! What thoughts are these which transport the astounded mind beyond its boundaries! Prince! To be for one moment prince comprises the essence of a whole existence. 'Tis not the mere stage of life—but the part we play on it that gives the value. The murmurs which compose the thunder's roar might singly lull an infant to repose—but united their crash can shake the eternal vault of heaven. I am resolved. (Walking up and down majestically.)
FIESCO; LEONORA, entering with a look of anxiety.
LEONORA. Pardon me, count. I fear I interrupt your morning rest.
FIESCO (steps back with astonishment). Indeed, madam, you do surprise me not a little.
LEONORA. That never happens to those who love.
FIESCO. Charming countess, you expose your beauty to the rude breath of morning.
LEONORA. I know not why I should preserve its small remains for grief to feed on.
FIESCO. Grief, my love? I thought that to be free from cares of state was happiness.
LEONORA. It may be so. Yet do I feel that my weak heart is breaking amidst this happiness. I come, sir, to trouble you with a trifling request, if you can spare a moment's time to hear me. These seven months past I have indulged the pleasing dream of being Countess of Lavagna. It now has passed away and left a painful weight upon my mind. Amid the pleasures of my innocent childhood I must seek relief to my disordered spirits. Permit me, therefore, to return to the arms of my beloved mother——
FIESCO (with astonishment). Countess!
LEONORA. My heart is a poor trembling thing which you should pity. Even the least remembrance of my visionary joy might wound my sickly fancy. I therefore restore the last memorials of your kindness to their rightful owner. (She lays some trinkets on the table.) This, too, that like a dagger struck my heart (presenting a letter). This, too (going to rush out of the door in tears), and I will retain nothing but the wound.
FIESCO (agitated, hastens after and detains her). Leonora! For God's sake, stay!
LEONORA (falls into his arms exhausted). To be your wife was more than I deserved. But she who was your wife deserved at least respect. How bitter is the tongue of calumny. How the wives and maidens of Genoa now look down upon me! "See," they say, "how droops the haughty one whose vanity aspired to Fiesco!" Cruel punishment of my pride! I triumphed over my whole sex when Fiesco led me to the altar——
FIESCO. Really, Madonna! All this is most surprising——
LEONORA (aside). Ah! he changes color—now I revive.
FIESCO. Wait only two days, countess—then judge my conduct——
LEONORA. To be sacrificed! Let me not speak it in thy chaste presence, oh, thou virgin day! To be sacrificed to a shameless wanton! Look on me, my husband! Ah, surely those eyes that make all Genoa tremble, must hide themselves before a weeping woman——
FIESCO (extremely confused). No more, signora! No more——
LEONORA (with a melancholy look of reproach). To rend the heart of a poor helpless woman! Oh, it is so worthy of the manly sex. Into his arms I threw myself, and on his strength confidingly reposed my feminine weakness. To him I trusted the heaven of my hopes. The generous man bestowed it on a——
FIESCO (interrupting her, with vehemence). No, my Leonora! No!
LEONORA. My Leonora! Heaven, I thank thee! These were the angelic sounds of love once more. I ought to hate thee, faithless man! And yet I fondly grasp the shadow of thy tenderness. Hate! said I? Hate Fiesco? Oh, believe it not! Thy perfidy may bid me die, but cannot bid me hate thee. I did not know my heart——(The MOOR is heard approaching.)
FIESCO. Leonora! grant me one trifling favor.
LEONORA. Everything, Fiesco—but indifference.
FIESCO. Well, well (significantly). Till Genoa be two days older, inquire not! condemn me not! (Leads her politely to another apartment.)
FIESCO; the MOOR, entering hastily.
FIESCO. Whence come you thus out of breath?
MOOR. Quick, my lord!
FIESCO. Has anything run into the net?
MOOR. Read this letter. Am I really here? Methinks Genoa is become shorter by twelve streets, or else my legs have grown that much longer! You change color? Yes, yes—they play at cards for heads, and yours is the chief stake. How do you like it?
FIESCO (throws the letter on the table with horror). Thou woolly-pated rascal! How camest thou by that letter?
MOOR. Much in the same way as your grace will come by the republic. An express was sent with it towards Levanto. I smelt out the game; waylaid the fellow in a narrow pass, despatched the fox, and brought the poultry hither——
FIESCO. His blood be on thy head! As for the letter, 'tis not to be paid with gold.
MOOR. Yet I will be content with silver for it—(seriously, and with a look of importance). Count of Lavagna! 'twas but the other day I sought your life. To-day (pointing to the letter) I have preserved it. Now I think his lordship and the scoundrel are even. My further service is an act of friendship—(presents another letter) number two!
FIESCO (receives it with astonishment). Art thou mad?
MOOR. Number two—(with an arrogant air—his arms akimbo) the lion hasnot acted foolishly in pardoning the mouse. Ah! 'twas a deed of policy.Who else could e'er have gnawed the net with which he was surrounded?Now, sir, how like you that?
FIESCO. Fellow, how many devils hast thou in pay?
MOOR. But one, sir, at your service; and he is in your grace's keeping.
FIESCO. What! Doria's own signature! Whence dost thou bring this paper?
MOOR. Fresh from the hands of my Diana. I went to her last night, tempted her with your charming words, and still more charming sequins. The last prevailed. She bade me call early in the morning. Lomellino had been there as you predicted, and paid the toll to his contraband heaven with this deposit.
FIESCO (indignantly). Oh, these despicable woman-slaves! They would govern kingdoms, and cannot keep a secret from a harlot. By these papers I learn that Doria and his party have formed a plot to murder me, with eleven senators, and to place Gianettino on the throne.
MOOR. Even so—and that upon the morning of the ducal election, the third of this month.
FIESCO (vehemently). The night of our enterprise shall smother that morning in its very birth. Speed thee, Hassan. My affairs are ripe. Collect our fellows. We will take bloody lead of our adversaries. Be active, Hassan!
MOOR. I have a budget full of news beside. Two thousand soldiers are safely smuggled into the city. I've lodged them with the Capuchins, where not even a prying sunbeam can espy them. They burn with eagerness to see their leader. They are fine fellows.
FIESCO. Each head of them shall yield thee a ducat. Is there no talk about my galleys?
MOOR. Oh, I've a pleasant story of them, my lord. Above four hundred adventurers, whom the peace 'twixt France and Spain has left without employ, besought my people to recommend them to your grace to fight against the infidels. I have appointed them to meet this evening in the palace-court.
FIESCO (pleased). I could almost embrace thee, rascal. A masterly stroke! Four hundred, said'st thou? Genoa is in my power. Four hundred crowns are thine——
MOOR (with an air of confidence). Eh, Fiesco? We two will pull the state in pieces, and sweep away the laws as with a besom. You know not how many hearty fellows I have among the garrison—lads that I can reckon on as surely as on a trip to hell. Now I've so laid my plans that at each gate we have among the guard at least six of our creatures, who will be enough to overcome the others by persuasion or by wine. If you wish to risk a blow to-night, you'll find the sentinels all drenched with liquor.
FIESCO. Peace, fellow! Hitherto I have moved the vast machine alone; shall I now, at the very goal, be put to shame by the greatest rascal under the sun? Here's my hand upon it, fellow—whate'er the Count remains indebted to thee, the Duke shall pay.
MOOR. And here, too, is a note from the Countess Imperiali. She beckoned to me from her window, when I went up received me graciously, and asked me ironically if the Countess of Lavagna had not been lately troubled with the spleen. Does your grace, said I, inquire but for one person?
FIESCO (having read the letter throws it aside). Well said. What answer made she?
MOOR. She answered, that she still lamented the fate of the poor bereaved widow—that she was willing to give her satisfaction, and meant to forbid your grace's attentions.
FIESCO (with a sneer). Which of themselves may possibly cease sometime before the day of judgment. Is that all thy business, Hassan?
MOOR (ironically). My lord, the affairs of the ladies are next to those of state.
FIESCO. Without a doubt, and these especially. But for what purpose are these papers?
MOOR. To remove one plague by another. These powders the signora gave me, to mix one every day with your wife's chocolate.
FIESCO (starting). Gave thee?
MOOR. Donna Julia, Countess Imperiali.
FIESCO (snatching them from him eagerly). If thou liest, rascal, I'll hang thee up alive in irons at the weathercock of the Lorenzo tower, where the wind shall whirl thee nine times round with every blast. The powders?
MOOR (impatiently). I am to give your wife mixed with her chocolate.Such were the orders of Donna Julia Imperiali.
FIESCO (enraged). Monster! monster! This lovely creature! Is there room for so much hell within a female bosom? And I forgot to thank thee, heavenly Providence, that has rendered it abortive—abortive through a greater devil. Wondrous are thy ways! (To the MOOR.) Swear to me to obey, and keep this secret.
MOOR. Very well. The latter I can afford—she paid me ready money.
FIESCO. This note invites me to her. I'll be with you, madam!—and find means to lure you hither, too. Now haste thee, with all thy speed, and call together the conspirators.
MOOR. This order I anticipated, and therefore at my own risk appointed every one to come at ten o'clock precisely.
FIESCO. I hear the sound of footsteps. They are here. Fellow, thy villany deserves a gallows of its own, on which no son of Adam was ever yet suspended. Wait in the ante-chamber till I call for thee.
MOOR. The Moor has done his work—the Moor may go.
[Exit.
FIESCO (meeting them). The tempest is approaching: the clouds rash together. Advance with caution. Let all the doors be locked.
VERRINA. Eight chambers have I made fast behind. Suspicion cannot come within a hundred steps of us.
BOURGOGNINO. Here is no traitor, unless our fear become one.
FIESCO. Fear cannot pass my threshold. Welcome he whose mind remains the same as yesterday. Be seated. (They seat themselves.)
BOURGOGNINO (walking up and down). I care not to sit in cold deliberation when action calls upon me.
FIESCO. Genoese, this hour is eventful.
VERRINA. Thou hast challenged us to consider a plan for dethroning the tyrant. Demand of us—we are here to answer thee.
FIESCO. First, then, a question which, as it comes so late, you may think strange. Who is to fall? (A pause.)
BOURGOGNINO (leaning over FIESCO'S chair, with an expressive look). The tyrants.
FIESCO. Well spoken. The tyrants. I entreat you weigh well the importance of the word. Is he who threatens the overthrow of liberty—or he who has it in his power—the greater tyrant?
VERRINA. The first I hate, I fear the latter. Let Andreas Doria fall!
CALCAGNO (with emotion). Andreas? The old Andreas! who perhaps to-morrow may pay the debt of nature——
SACCO. Andreas? That mild old man!
FIESCO. Formidable is that old man's mildness, O my friend—the brutality of Gianettino only deserves contempt. "Let Andreas fall!" There spoke thy wisdom, Verrina.
BOURGOGNINO. The chain of iron, and the cord of silk, alike are bonds.Let Andreas perish!
FIESCO (going to the table). The sentence, then is passed upon the uncle and the nephew. Sign it! (They all sign.) The question who is settled. How must be next determined. Speak first, Calcagno.
CALCAGNO. We must execute it either as soldiers or assassins. The first is dangerous, because we must have many confidants. 'Tis also doubtful, because the peoples' hearts are not all with us. To act the second our five good daggers are sufficient. Two days hence high mass will be performed in the Lorenzo Church—both the Dorias will be present. In the house of God even a tyrant's cares are lulled to sleep. I have done.
FIESCO (turning away). Calcagno, your plan is politic, but 'tis detestable. Raphael Sacco, yours?
SACCO. Calcagno's reasons please me, but the means he chooses my mind revolts at. Better were it that Fiesco should invite both the uncle and nephew to a feast, where, pressed on all sides by the vengeance of the republic, they must swallow death at the dagger's point, or in a bumper of good Cyprian. This method is at least convenient.
FIESCO (with horror). Ah, Sacco! What if the wine their dying tongues shall taste become for us torments of burning pitch in hell! Away with this advice! Speak thou, Verrina.
VERRINA. An open heart shows a bold front. Assassination degrades us to banditti. The hero advances sword in hand. I propose to give aloud the signal of revolt, and boldly rouse the patriots of Genoa to vengeance. (He starts from his seat, the others do the same.)
BOURGOGNINO (embracing him). And with armed hand wrest Fortune's favors from her. This is the voice of honor, and is mine.
FIESCO. And mine. Shame on you, Genoese! (to SACCO and CALCAGNO).Fortune has already done too much for us, let something be our own.Therefore open revolt! And that, Genoese, this very night——(VERRINAand BOURGOGNINO astonished—the others terrified.)
CALCAGNO. What! To-night! The tyrants are yet too powerful, our force too small.
SACCO. To-night! And naught prepared? The day is fast declining.
FIESCO. Your doubts are reasonable, but read these papers. (He gives them GIANETTINO'S papers, and walks up and down with a look of satisfaction, whilst they read them eagerly.) Now, farewell, thou proud and haughty star of Genoa, that didst seem to fill the whole horizon with thy brightness. Knowest thou not that the majestic sun himself must quit the heavens, and yield his sceptre to the radiant moon? Farewell, Doria, beauteous star!
Patroclus to the shades is gone,And he was more than thou.
BOURGOGNINO (after reading the papers). This is horrible.
CALCAGNO. Twelve victims at a blow!
VERRINA. To-morrow in the senate-house!
BOURGOGNINO. Give me these papers, and I will ride with them through Genoa, holding them up to view. The very stones will rise in mutiny, and even the dogs will howl against the tyrant.
ALL. Revenge! Revenge! Revenge! This very night!
FIESCO. Now you have reached the point. At sunset I will invite hither the principal malcontents—those that stand upon the bloody list of Gianettino! Besides the Sauli, the Gentili, Vivaldi, Vesodimari, all mortal enemies of the house of Doria; but whom the tyrant forgot to fear. They, doubtless, will embrace my plan with eagerness.
BOURGOGNINO. I doubt it not.
FIESCO. Above all things, we must render ourselves masters of the sea. Galleys and seamen I have ready. The twenty vessels of the Dorias are dismantled, and may be easily surprised. The entrance of the inner harbor must be blocked up, all hope of flight cut off. If we secure this point, all Genoa is in our power.
VERRINA. Doubtless.
FIESCO. Then we must seize the strongest posts in the city, especially the gate of St. Thomas, which, leading to the harbor, connects our land and naval forces. Both the Dorias must be surprised within their palaces, and killed. The bells must toll, the citizens be called upon to side with us, and vindicate the liberties of Genoa. If Fortune favor us, you shall hear the rest in the senate.
VERRINA. The plan is good. Now for the distribution of our parts.
FIESCO (significantly). Genoese, you chose me, of your own accord, as chief of the conspiracy. Will you obey my further orders?
VERRINA. As certainly as they shall be the best.
FIESCO. Verrina, dost thou know the principle of all warlike enterprise? Instruct him, Genoese. It is subordination. If your will be not subjected to mine—observe me well—if I be not the head of the conspiracy, I am no more a member.
VERRINA. A life of freedom is well worth some hours of slavery. We obey.
FIESCO. Then leave me now. Let one of you reconnoitre the city and inform me of the strength or weakness of the several posts. Let another find out the watchword. A third must see that the galleys are in readiness. A fourth conduct the two thousand soldiers into my palace-court. I myself will make all preparations here for the evening, and pass the interval perhaps in play. At nine precisely let all be at my palace to hear my final orders. (Rings the bell.)
VERRINA. I take the harbor.
BOURGOGNINO. I the soldiers.
CALCAGNO. I will learn the watchword.
SACCO. I will reconnoitre Genoa.
[Exeunt.
FIESCO (seated at a desk, and writing). Did they not struggle against the word subordination as the worm against the needle which transfixes it? But 'tis too late, republicans.
MOOR (entering). My lord——
FIESCO (giving him a paper). Invite all those whose names are written here to see a play this evening at my palace.
MOOR. Perhaps to act a part, and pay the admittance with their heads.
FIESCO (in a haughty and contemptuous manner). When that is over I will no longer detain thee here in Genoa. (Going, throws him a purse.) This is thy last employment.
[Exit.
MOOR, alone.
MOOR (taking up the purse slowly, and looking after FIESCO with surprise). Are we, then, on these terms? "I will detain thee in Genoa no longer." That is to say, translated from the Christian language into my heathen tongue, "When I am duke I shall hang up my friend the Moor upon a Genoese gallows." Hum! He fears, because I know his tricks, my tongue may bring his honor into danger when he is duke. When he is duke? Hold, master count! That event remains to be considered. Ah! old Doria, thy life is in my hands. Thou art lost unless I warn thee of thy danger. Now, if I go to him and discover the plot, I save the Duke of Genoa no less than his existence and his dukedom, and gain at least this hatful of gold for my reward. (Going, stops suddenly.) But stay, friend Hassan, thou art going on a foolish errand. Suppose this scene of riot is prevented, and nothing but good is the result. Pshaw! what a cursed trick my avarice would then have played me! Come, devil, help me to make out what promises the greatest mischief; to cheat Fiesco, or to give up Doria to the dagger. If Fiesco succeed then Genoa may prosper. Away! That must not be. If this Doria escape, then all remains as it was before, and Genoa is quiet. That's still worse! Ay, but to see these rebels' heads upon the block! Hum! On the other hand 'twould be amusing to behold the illustrious Dorias in this evening's massacre the victims of a rascally Moor. No. This doubtful question a Christian might perhaps resolve, but 'tis too deep a riddle for my Moorish brains. I'll go propose it to some learned man.
[Exit.
An apartment in the house of the COUNTESS IMPERIALI.
JULIA in dishabille. GIANETTINO enters, agitated.
GIANETTINO. Good-evening, sister.
JULIA (rising). It must be something extraordinary which brings the crown-prince of Genoa to his sister!
GIANETTINO. Sister, you are continually surrounded by butterflies and I by wasps. How is it possible that we should meet? Let's be seated.
JULIA. You almost excite my curiosity.
GIANETTINO. When did Fiesco visit you last?
JULIA. A strange question. As if I burdened my memory with such trifles!
GIANETTINO. I must know—positively.
JULIA. Well, then, he was here yesterday.
GIANETTINO. And behaved without reserve?
JULIA. As usual.
GIANETTINO. As much a coxcomb as ever.
JULIA (offended). Brother!
GIANETTINO (more vehemently). I say—as much a coxcomb——
JULIA (rises, with indignation). Sir! What do you take me for?
GIANETTINO (keeps his seat—sarcastically). For a mere piece of woman-flesh, wrapped up in a great—great patent of nobility. This between ourselves—there is no one by to hear us.
JULIA (enraged). Between ourselves—you are an impertinent jackanapes, and presume upon the credit of your uncle. No one by to hear us, indeed!
GIANETTINO. Sister! sister! don't be angry. I'm only merry becauseFiesco is still as much a coxcomb as ever. That's all I wanted to know.Your servant——(Going.)
The former, LOMELLINO, entering.
LOMELLINO (to JULIA, respectfully). Pardon my boldness, gracious lady. (To GIANETTINO.) Certain affairs which cannot be delayed——(GIANETTINO takes him aside; JULIA sits down angrily at the pianoforte and plays an allegro.)
GIANETTINO (to LOMELLINO). Is everything prepared for to-morrow?
LOMELLINO. Everything, prince—but the courier, who was despatched this morning to Levanto, is not yet returned, nor is Spinola arrived. Should he be intercepted! I'm much alarmed——
GIANETTINO. Fear nothing. You have that list at hand?
LOMELLINO (embarrassed). My lord—the list? I do not know—I must have left it at home in my other pocket.
GIANETTINO. It does not signify—would that Spinola were but here.Fiesco will be found dead in his bed. I have taken measures for it.
LOMELLINO. But it will cause great consternation.
GIANETTINO. In that lies our security. Common crimes but move the blood and stir it to revenge: atrocious deeds freeze it with terror, and annihilate the faculties of man. You know the fabled power of Medusa's head—they who but looked on it were turned to stone. What may not be done, my boy, before stories are warmed to animation?
LOMELLINO. Have you given the countess any intimation of it?
GIANETTINO. That would never do! We must deal more cautiously with her attachment to FIESCO. When she shares the sweets, the cost will soon be forgotten. Come, I expect troops this evening from Milan, and must give orders at the gates for their reception. (To JULIA.) Well, sister, have you almost thrummed away your anger?
JULIA. Go! You're a rude unmannered creature. (GIANETTINO, going, meets FIESCO.)
The former; FIESCO.
GIANETTINO (stepping back). Ha!
FIESCO (with politeness). Prince, you spare me a visit which I was just now about to pay.
GIANETTINO. And I, too, count, am pleased to meet you here.
FIESCO (approaching JULIA courteously). Your charms, signora, always surpass expectation.
JULIA. Fie! that in another would sound ambiguous—but I'm shocked at my dishabille—excuse me, count—(going).
FIESCO. Stay, my beauteous lady. Woman's beauty is ne'er so charming as when in the toilet's simplest garb (laughingly). An undress is her surest robe of conquest. Permit me to loosen these tresses——
JULIA. Oh, how ready are you men to cause confusion!
FIESCO (with a smile to GIANETTINO). In dress, as in the state—is it not so? (To JULIA.) This ribbon, too, is awkwardly put on. Sit down, fair countess—your Laura's skill may strike the eye, but cannot reach the heart. Let me play the chambermaid for once. (She sits down, he arranges her dress.)
GIANETTINO (aside to LOMELLINO). Poor frivolous fellow!
FIESCO (engaged about her bosom). Now see—this I prudently conceal. The senses should always be blind messengers, and not know the secret compact between nature and fancy.
JULIA. That is trifling.
FIESCO. Not at all; for, consider, the prettiest novelty loses all its zest when once become familiar. Our senses are but the rabble of our inward republic. The noble live by them, but elevate themselves above their low, degenerate tastes. (Having adjusted her toilet, he leads her to a glass.) Now, by my honor! this must on the morrow be Genoa's fashion—(politely)—may I have the honor of leading you so abroad, countess?
JULIA. The cunning flatterer! How artfully he lays his plans to ensnare me. No! I have a headache, and will stay at home.
FIESCO. Pardon me, countess. You may be so cruel, but surely you will not. To-day a company of Florentine comedians arrive at my palace. Most of the Genoese ladies will be present this evening at their performance, and I am uncertain whom to place in the chief box without offending others. There is but one expedient. (Making a low bow.) If you would condescend, signora——
JULIA (blushing, retires to a side apartment). Laura!
GIANETTINO (approaching FIESCO). Count, you remember an unpleasant circumstance——
FIESCO (interrupting him). 'Tis my wish, prince, we should both forget it. The actions of men are regulated by their knowledge of each other. It is my fault that you knew me so imperfectly.
GIANETTINO. I shall never think of it without craving your pardon from my inmost soul——
FIESCO. Nor I without forgiving you from my heart's core. (JULIA returns, her dress a little altered.)
GIANETTINO. Count, I just now recollect that you are going to cruise against the Turks——
FIESCO. This evening we weigh anchor. On that account I had some apprehensions from which my friend Doria's kindness may deliver me.
GIANETTINO (obsequiously). Most willingly. Command my utmost influence!
FIESCO. The circumstance might cause a concourse toward the harbor, and about my palace, which the duke your uncle might misinterpret.
GIANETTINO (in a friendly manner). I'll manage that for you. Continue your preparations, and may success attend your enterprise!
FIESCO (with a smile). I'm much obliged to you.
The former—A GERMAN of the body-guard.
GIANETTINO. What now?
GERMAN. Passing by the gate of St. Thomas I observed a great number of armed soldiers hastening towards the harbor. The galleys of the Count Fiesco were preparing for sea.
GIANETTINO. Is that all? Report it no further.
GERMAN. Very well. From the convent of the Capuchins, too, suspicious rabble are pouring, and steal toward the market-place. From their gait and appearance I should suppose them soldiers.
GIANETTINO (angrily). Out upon this fool's zeal! (To LOMELLINO, aside.)These are undoubtedly my Milanese.
GERMAN. Does your grace command that they should be arrested?
GIANETTINO (aloud to LOMELLINO). Look to them, Lomellino. (To the GERMAN.) Begone! 'Tis all well. (Aside to LOMELLINO.) Bid that German beast be silent.
[Exeunt LOMELLINO and GERMAN.
FIESCO (in another part of the room with JULIA—looks toward GIANETTINO.). Our friend Doria seems displeased. May I inquire the reason?
GIANETTINO. No wonder. These eternal messages.
[Exit hastily.
FIESCO. The play awaits us, too, signora. May I offer you my hand?
JULIA. Stay, let me take my cloak. 'Tis no tragedy I hope, count? It would haunt me in my dreams.
FIESCO (sarcastically). 'Twill excite immoderate laughter.
[He hands her out—the curtain falls.
BOURGOGNINO, leading a band of soldiers.
BOURGOGNINO. Halt! Let four sentinels be stationed at the great gate. Two at every door of the palace. (The sentinels take their posts.) Let every one that chooses enter, but none depart. If any one attempts to force his way run him through. (Goes with the rest into the palace. The sentinels walk up and down. A pause.)
ZENTURIONE entering.
SENTINELS AT THE GATE (call out). Who goes there?
ZENTURIONE. A friend of Lavagna. (Goes across the court to the palace on the right.)
SENTINEL THERE. Back! (ZENTURIONE starts, and goes to the door on the left.)
SENTINEL ON THE LEFT. Back!
ZENTURIONE (stands still with surprise. A pause. Then to the SENTINEL on the left). Friend, which is the way to the theatre?
SENTINEL. Don't know.
ZENTURIONE (walks up and down with increasing surprise—then to theSENTINEL on the right). Friend, when does the play begin?
SENTINEL. Don't know.
ZENTURIONE (astonished, walks up and down. Perceives the weapons; alarmed). Friend, what mean these?
SENTINEL. Don't know.
ZENTURIONE (wraps himself up in his cloak, alarmed). Strange!
SENTINELS AT THE GATE (calling out). Who goes there?
The former, ZIBO entering.
ZIBO. A friend of Lavagna.
ZENTURIONE. Zibo, where are we?
ZIBO. What mean you?
ZENTURIONE. Look around you, Zibo.
ZIBO. Where? What?
ZENTURIONE. All the doors are guarded!
ZIBO. Here are arms——
ZENTURIONE. No one that will answer——
ZIBO. 'Tis strange!
ZENTURIONE. What is it o'clock?
ZIBO. Past eight.
ZENTURIONE. How bitter cold it is!
ZIBO. Eight was the hour appointed.
ZENTURIONE (shaking his head). 'Tis not all as it should be here.
ZIBO. Fiesco means to jest with us——
ZENTURIONE. To-morrow will be the ducal election. Zibo, all's not right here, depend upon it.
ZIBO. Hush! hush!
ZENTURIONE. The right wing of the palace is full of lights.
ZIBO. Do you hear nothing?
ZENTURIONE. A confused murmuring within—and——
ZIBO. The sound of clattering arms——
ZENTURIONE. Horrible! horrible!
ZIBO. A carriage—it stops at the gate!
SENTINELS AT THE GATE (calling out). Who goes there?
The former, four of the ASSERATO family.
ASSERATO (entering). A friend of FIESCO.
ZIBO. They are the four Asserati.
ZENTURIONE. Good evening, friends!
ASSERATO. We are going to the play.
ZIBO. A pleasant journey to you!
ASSERATO. Are you not going also?
ZENTURIONE. Walk on. We'll just take a breath of air first.
ASSERATO. 'Twill soon begin. Come. (Going.)
SENTINEL. Back!
ASSERATO. What can this mean?
ZENTURIONE (laughing). To keep you from the palace.
ASSERATO. Here's some mistake——
ZIBO. That's plain enough. (Music is heard in the right wing.)
ASSERATO. Do you hear the symphony? The comedy is going to begin.
ZENTURIONE. I think it has begun, and we are acting our parts as fools.
ZIBO. I'm not over warm—I'll return home.
ASSERATO. Arms here, too?
ZIBO. Poh! Mere play-house articles.
ZENTURIONE. Shall we stand waiting, like ghosts upon the banks ofAcheron? Come, let us to a tavern! (All six go towards the gate.)
SENTINELS (calling loudly). Back! Back!
ZENTURIONE. Death and the devil! We are caught.
ZIBO. My sword shall open a passage!
ASSERATO. Put it up! The count's a man of honor.
ZIBO. We are sold! betrayed! The comedy was a bait, and we're caught in a trap.
ASSERATO. Heaven forbid! And yet I tremble for the event.
The former—VERRINA, SACCO, and NOBLES.
SENTINELS. Who goes there?
VERRINA. Friends of the house. (Seven NOBLES enter with him.)
ZIBO. These are his confidants. Now all will be explained.
SACCO (in conversation with VERRINA). 'Tis as I told you; Lascaro is on guard at the St. Thomas' gate, the best officer of Doria, and blindly devoted to him.
VERRINA. I'm glad of it.
ZIBO (to VERRINA). Verrina, you come opportunely to clear up the mystery.
VERRINA. How so? What mean you?
ZENTURIONE. We are invited to a comedy.
VERRINA. Then we are going the same way.
ZENTURIONE (impatiently). Yes—the way of all flesh. You see—the doors are guarded. Why guard the doors?
ZIBO. Why these sentinels?
ZENTURIONE. We stand here like criminals beneath the gallows.
VERRINA. The count will come himself.
ZENTURIONE. 'Twere well if he came a little faster. My patience begins to fail. (All the NOBLES walk up and down in the background.)
BOURGOGNINO (coming out of the palace, to VERRINA). How goes it in the harbor?
VERRINA. They're all safe on board.
BOURGOGNINO. The palace is full of soldiers.
VERRINA. 'Tis almost nine.
BOURGOGNINO. The count is long in coming.
VERRINA. And yet too quick to gain his wishes. Bourgognino! There is a thought that freezes me.
BOURGOGNINO. Father, be not too hasty.
VERRINA. It is impossible to be too hasty where delay is fatal. I must commit a second murder to justify the first.
BOURGOGNINO. But—when must Fiesco fall?
VERRINA. When Genoa is free Fiesco dies!
SENTINELS. Who goes there?
The former, FIESCO.
FIESCO. A friend! (The NOBLES bow—the SENTINELS present their arms.) Welcome, my worthy guests! You must have been displeased at my long absence. Pardon me. (In a low voice to VERRINA.) Ready?
VERRINA (in the same manner). As you wish.
FIESCO (to BOURGOGNINO). And you?
BOURGOGNINO. Quite prepared.
FIESCO (to SACCO). And you?
SACCO. All's right.
FIESCO. And Calcagno?
BOURGOGNINO. Is not yet arrived.
FIESCO (aloud to the SENTINELS). Make fast the gates! (He takes off his hat, and steps forward with dignity towards the assembly.) My friends—I have invited you hither to a play—not as spectators, but to allot to each a part therein.
Long enough have we borne the insolence of Gianettino Doria, and the usurpation of Andreas. My friends, if we would deliver Genoa, no time is to be lost. For what purpose, think you, are those twenty galleys which beset our harbor? For what purpose the alliances which the Dorias have of late concluded? For what purpose the foreign forces which they have collected even in the heart of Genoa? Murmurs and execrations avail no longer. To save all we must dare all. A desperate disease requires a desperate remedy. Is there one base enough in this assembly to own an equal for his master? (Murmurs.) Here is not one whose ancestors did not watch around the cradle of infant Genoa. What!—in Heaven's name!— what, I ask you, have these two citizens to boast of that they could urge their daring flight so far above our head? (Increasing murmurs.) Every one of you is loudly called upon to fight for the cause of Genoa against its tyrants. No one can surrender a hair's-breadth of his rights without betraying the soul of the whole state. (Interrupted by violent commotions he proceeds.)
You feel your wrongs—then everything is gained. I have already paved your way to glory—Genoese, will you follow? I am prepared to lead you. Those signs of war which you just now beheld with horror should awaken your heroism. Your anxious shuddering must warm into a glorious zeal that you may unite your efforts with this patriotic band to overthrow the tyrant. Success will crown the enterprise, for all our preparations are well arranged. The cause is just, for Genoa suffers. The attempt will render us immortal, for it is vast and glorious——
ZENTURIONE (vehemently, and agitated). Enough! Genoa shall be free! Be this our shout of onset against hell itself!
ZIBO. And may he who is not roused by it pant at the slavish oar till the last trumpet break his chains——
FIESCO. Spoken like men. Now you deserve to know the danger that hung over yourselves and Genoa. (Gives them the papers of the MOOR.) Lights, soldiers! (The nobles crowd about the lights, and read—FIESCO aside to VERRINA.) Friend, it went as I could wish.
VERRINA. Be not too certain. Upon the left I saw countenances that grew pale, and knees that tottered.
ZENTURIONE (enraged). Twelve senators! Infernal villany! Seize each a sword! (All, except two, eagerly take up the weapons that lie in readiness.)
ZIBO. Thy name, too, Bourgognino, is written there.
BOURGOGNINO. Ay, and if Heaven permit, it shall be written to-day upon the throat of Gianettino.
ZENTURIONE. Two swords remain——
ZIBO. Ah! What sayest thou?
ZENTURIONE. Two amongst us have not taken swords.
ASSERATO. My brothers cannot bear the sight of blood—pray spare them!
ZENTURIONE (vehemently). What! Not a tyrant's blood! Tear them to pieces—cowards! Let such bastards be driven from the republic! (Some of the assembly attack the two ASSERATI.)
FIESCO (restraining them). Cease! Shall Genoa owe its liberty to slaves? Shall our pure gold be debased by this alloy? (He disengages them.) Gentlemen, you must be content to take up your abode within my palace until our business be decided. (To the sentinels.) These are your prisoners; you answer for their safety! Guard them with loaded arms. (They are led off—a knocking heard at the gate.)
SENTINEL. Who is there?
CALCAGNO (without, eagerly). Open the gate! A friend! for God's sake, open!
BOURGOGNINO. It is Calcagno—heavens! What can this mean?
FIESCO. Open the gate, soldiers.
The former—CALCAGNO, out of breath.
CALCAGNO. All is lost! all is lost! Fly, every one that can!
BOURGOGNINO. What's lost? Have they flesh of brass? Are our swords made of rushes?
FIESCO. Consider, Calcagno! An error now is fatal.
CALCAGNO. We are betrayed! Your Moor, Lavagna, is the rascal! I come from the senate-house. He had an audience of the duke.
VERRINA (with a resolute tone, to the sentinels). Soldiers! let me rush upon your halberts! I will not perish by the hangman's hands. (The assembly show marks of confusion.)
FIESCO (with firmness). What are you about? 'Sdeath, Calcagno!Friends, 'tis a false alarm. (To CALCAGNO, aside.) Woman that thou artto tell these boys this tale. Thou, too, Verrina? and thou, Bourgognino?Whither wouldst thou go?
BOURGOGNINO. Home—to kill my Bertha—and then return to fall with thee.
FIESCO (bursting into a loud laugh). Stay! stay! Is this the valor that should punish tyrants? Well didst thou play thy part, Calcagno. Did none of you perceive that this alarm was my contrivance? Speak, Calcagno? Was it not my order that you should put these Romans to this trial?
VERRINA. Well, if you can laugh I'll believe you—or never more think you man.
FIESCO. Shame on you, men! to fail in such a boyish trial! Resume your arms—you must fight like lions to atone for this disgrace. (Aside to CALCAGNO.) Were you there yourself?
CALCAGNO (low). I made my way among the guards to hear, as was my business, the watchword from the duke. As I was returning the Moor was brought——
FIESCO (aloud). So the old man is gone to bed—we'll drum him out of his feathers. (Low.) Did he talk long with the duke?
CALCAGNO (low). My sudden fright and your impending danger drove me away in haste——
FIESCO (aloud). See how our countrymen still tremble.
CALCAGNO (aloud). You should have carried on the jest. (Low.) ForGod's sake, friend, what will this artifice avail us?
FIESCO. 'Twill gain us time, and dissipate the first panic. (Aloud.)Ho! bring wine here! (Low.) Did the duke turn pale? (Aloud.) Well,brothers, let us drink success to this night's entertainment. (Low.)Did the duke turn pale?
CALCAGNO. The Moor's first word must have been conspiracy; for the old man started back as pale as ashes.
FIESCO (confused). Hum! the devil is an artful counsellor. Calcagno— the Moor was cunning, he betrayed nothing till the knife was at his throat. Now he is indeed their savior. (Wine is brought, he drinks to the assembly.) Comrades, success! (A knocking is heard.)
SENTINELS. Who is without?
A VOICE. The guard of the duke's. (The NOBLES rush about the court in despair.)
FIESCO (stepping forward). Oh, my friends! Be not alarmed! I am here— quick, remove these arms—be men. I entreat you—this visit makes me hope that Andreas still doubts our plot. Retire into the palace: recall your spirits. Soldiers, throw open the gate! (They retire, the gates are opened.)
FIESCO (as if coming from the palace). Three GERMAN SOLDIERS bringing the MOOR, bound.
FIESCO. Who calls me?
GERMANS. Bring us to the count!
FIESCO. The count is here, who wants me?
GERMAN (presenting his arms). Greeting from the duke!—he delivers up to your grace this Moor in chains, who had basely slandered you: the rest this note will tell.
FIESCO (takes it with an air of indifference). Have I not threatened thee already with the galleys? (To the GERMAN.) Very well, my friend, my respects to the duke.
MOOR (hallooing after them). Mine, too—and tell the duke had he not employed an ass for his messenger he would have learned that two thousand soldiers are concealed within these palace walls.
[Exeunt GERMANS, the NOBLES return.
FIESCO, the CONSPIRATORS, MOOR (looking at them unconcerned.)
THE CONSPIRATORS (shuddering at the sight of the MOOR). Ha! what means this?
FIESCO (after reading the note with suppressed anger). Genoese, the danger is past—but the conspiracy is likewise at an end——
VERRINA (astonished). What! Are the Dorias dead?
FIESCO (violently agitated). By heavens! I was prepared to encounter the whole force of the republic, but not this blow. This old nerveless man, with his pen, annihilates three thousand soldiers (his hands sink down). Doria overcomes Fiesco!
BOURGOGNINO. Speak, count, we are amazed!
FIESCO (reading). "Lavagna, your fate resembles mine; benevolence is rewarded with ingratitude. The Moor informs me of a plot: I send him back to you in chains, and shall sleep to-night without a guard." (He drops the paper—the rest look at each other.)
VERRINA. Well, Fiesco?
FIESCO (with dignity). Shall Doria surpass me in magnanimity? Shall the race of Fiesco want this one virtue? No, by my honor—disperse—I'll go and own the whole——
VERRINA (stopping him). Art thou mad? Was, then, our enterprise some thievish act of villany? Was it not our country's cause? Was Andreas the object of thy hatred, and not the tyrant? Stay! I arrest thee as a traitor to thy country.
CONSPIRATORS. Bind him! throw him down!
FIESCO (snatching up his sword, and making way through them). Gently!Who will be the first to throw the cord around the tiger? See, Genoese,—I stand here at liberty, and might force my way with ease, had I thewill—but I will stay—I have other thoughts——
BOURGOGNINO. Are they thoughts of duty?
FIESCO (haughtily). Ha! boy! learn first to know thy own—and towards me restrain that tongue! Be appeased, Genoese,—our plans remain unaltered. (To the MOOR, whose cords he cuts with a sword). Thou hast the merit of causing a noble act—fly!
CALCAGNO (enraged). What? Shall that scoundrel live,—he who has betrayed us all?
FIESCO. Live—though he has frightened you all. Rascal, begone! See that thou turn thy back quickly on Genoa; lest some one immolate thee to the manes of his courage.
MOOR. So, then, the devil does not forsake his friends. Your servant, gentlemen! I see that Italy does not produce my halter; I must seek it elsewhere.
[Exit, laughing.
FIESCO, CONSPIRATORS. Enter SERVANT.
SERVANT. The Countess Imperiali has already asked three times for your grace.
FIESCO. Ha! then the comedy must indeed begin! Tell her I come directly. Desire my wife to hasten to the concert-room, and there remain concealed behind the tapestry. (Exit SERVANT.) In these papers your several stations are appointed: let each but act his part, the plan is perfect. Verrina will lead the forces to the harbor, and when the ships are seized will fire a shot as a signal for the general attack. I now leave you upon important business; when you hear the bell come all together to my concert-room. Meanwhile enjoy my Cyprian wine within. (They depart into the palace.)
LEONORA, ARABELLA, and ROSA.
LEONORA. Fiesco promised to meet me here, and comes not. 'Tis past eleven. The sound of arms and men rings frightfully through the palace, and no Fiesco comes.
ROSA. You are to conceal yourself behind the tapestry—what can the count intend?
LEONORA. He directs and I obey. Why should I fear? And yet I tremble, Arabella, and my heart beats fearfully with apprehension. For heaven's sake, damsels, do not leave me.
ARABELLA. Fear nothing; our timidity subdues our curiosity.
LEONORA. Where'er I turn my eyes strange shapes appear with hollow and distracted countenances. Whomsoever I address trembles like a criminal, and withdraws into the thickest gloom of night, that fearful refuge of a guilty conscience. Whate'er they answer falls from the trembling tongue in doubtful accents. Oh, Fiesco! what horrid business dost thou meditate? Ye heavenly powers! watch over my Fiesco!
ROSA (alarmed). Oh, heavens! what noise is that without?
ARABELLA. It is the soldier who stands there as sentinel. (The SENTINEL without calls, "Who goes there?")
LEONORA. Some one approaches. Quick! behind the curtain. (They conceal themselves.)
JULIA and FIESCO, in conversation.
JULIA (much agitated). Forbear, count! Your passion meets no longer an indifferent ear, but fires the raging blood—where am I? Naught but seducing night is here! Whither has your artful tongue lured my unguarded heart?
FIESCO. To this spot where timid love grows bold, and where emotions mingle unrestrained.
JULIA. Hold, Fiesco! For Heaven's sake no more! 'Tis the thick veil of night alone which covers the burning blushes on my cheeks, else wouldst thou pity me.
FIESCO. Rather, Julia, thy blushes would inflame my passions, and urge them to their utmost height. (Kisses her hand eagerly.)
JULIA. Thy countenance is glowing as thy words! Ah! and my own, too, burns with guilty fire. Hence, I entreat thee, hence—let us seek the light! The tempting darkness might lead astray the excited senses, and in the absence of the modest day might stir them to rebellion. Haste, I conjure thee, leave this solitude!
FIESCO (more pressing). Why so alarmed, my love? Shall the mistress fear her slave?
JULIA. O man, eternal paradox! then are you truly conquerors, when you bow as captives before our self-conceit. Shall I confess, Fiesco? It was my vice alone that could protect my virtue—my pride alone defied your artifices—thus far, my principles prevailed, and all your arts were foiled—but in despair of every other suit you made appeal to Julia's passion—and here my principles deserted me——
FIESCO (with levity). And what loss was that?
JULIA (with emotion). If I betray the safeguards of my honor, that thou mayest cover me with shame at will, what have I less to lose than all? Wouldst thou know more, scoffer? Shall I confess that the whole secret wisdom of our sex is but a sorry precaution for the defence of this weak fortress, which in the end is the sole object of assault by all your vows and protestations, and which (I blush to own it) is so willingly surrendered—so often betrayed to the enemy upon the first wavering of virtue? That woman's whole art is enlisted in fortifying a defenceless position, just as in chess the pieces move and form a breastwork round the defenceless king?—surprise the latter—check-mate! and the whole board is thrown into confusion. (After a pause—with earnestness), behold the picture of our boasting weakness. Be generous, Fiesco!
FIESCO. And yet, my Julia—where could'st thou bestow this treasure better than on my endless passion?
JULIA. Certainly, nowhere better, and nowhere worse? Tell me, Fiesco, how long will this endless passion endure? But, alas! I've risked too much already now to hesitate at staking my last. I trusted boldly to my charms to captivate thee—to preserve thy love, I fear they'll prove too weak. Fie upon me!—what am I uttering? (Hides her face with her hands.)
FIESCO. Two sins in one breath. Mistrust in my taste, and treason against the sovereignty of your charms? Which of the two is the most difficult to forgive?
JULIA (in a tremulous, imploring tone). Falsehood is the armory of hell! Fiesco needs not this to gain his Julia. (She sinks exhausted on a sofa: after a pause—energetically.) Hear, Fiesco! One word more. When we know our virtue to be in safety, we are heroines; in its defence, no more than children; (fixing her eyes on him wildly)—furies, when we avenge it. Hear me! Should'st thou strike me to the heart with coldness?
FIESCO (assuming an angry tone). Coldness? coldness? Heavens! What does the insatiable vanity of woman look for, if she even doubt the man who lies prostrate at her feet? Ha! my spirit is awakened; my eyes at length are opened. (With an air of coldness.) What was this mighty sacrifice? Man dearly purchases a woman's highest favors by the slightest degradation! (Bowing ceremoniously.) Take courage, madam! you are safe.
JULIA (with astonishment). Count! what sudden change is this?
FIESCO (with great indifference). True, madam! You judge most rightly; we both have risked our honor. (Bowing ceremoniously.) I will await the pleasure of your company among my guests. (Going.)
JULIA (stops him). Stay! art thou mad? Must I, then, declare a passion which the whole race of men, upon their knees, should not extort from my inflexible pride? Alas! in vain the darkness strives to hide the blushes which betray my guilt. Fiesco—I wound the pride of all my sex—my sex will all detest me—Fiesco—I adore thee—(falls at his feet).
FIESCO (steps back without raising her, laughing with exultation). That I am sorry for, signora—(rings the bell—draws the tapestry, and discovers LEONORA). Here is my wife—an angel of a woman! (Embracing her.)
JULIA (with a shriek). Unheard-of treachery!