FIESCO. Hush! – hark! What is that confused noise?
MOOR (going to the window). It is the tumult of the crowd returning from the senate-house.
FIESCO. To-day is the election of a procurator. Order my carriage! It is impossible that the sitting should be over. I'll go thither. It is impossible it should be over if things went right. Bring me my sword and cloak – where is my golden chain?
MOOR. Sir, I have stolen and pawned it.
FIESCO. That I am glad to hear.
MOOR. But, how! Are there no more sequins for me?
FIESCO. No. You forgot the cloak.
MOOR. Ah! I was wrong in pointing out the thief.
FIESCO. The tumult comes nearer. Hark! 'Tis not the sound of approbation. Quick! Unlock the gates; I guess the matter. Doria has been rash. The state balances upon a needle's point. There has assuredly been some disturbance at the senate-house.
MOOR (at the window). What's here! They're coming down the street of Balbi – a crowd of many thousands – the halberds glitter – ah, swords too! Halloo! Senators! They come this way.
FIESCO. Sedition is on foot. Hasten amongst them; mention my name; persuade them to come hither. (Exit Moon hastily.) What reason, laboring like a careful ant, with difficulty scrapes together, the wind of accident collects in one short moment.
SCENE V
FIESCO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO, and ASSERATO, rushing in.
ZIBO. Count, impute it to our anger that we enter thus unannounced.
ZENTURIONE. I have been mortally affronted by the duke's nephew in the face of the whole senate.
ASSERATO. Doria has trampled on the golden book of which each noble Genoese is a leaf.
ZENTURIONE. Therefore come we hither. The whole nobility are insulted in me; the whole nobility must share my vengeance. To avenge my own honor I should not need assistance.
ZIBO. The whole nobility are outraged in his person; the whole nobility must rise and vent their rage in fire and flames.
ASSERATO. The rights of the nation are trodden under foot; the liberty of the republic has received a deadly blow.
FIESCO. You raise my expectation to the utmost.
ZIBO. He was the twenty-ninth among the electing senators, and had drawn forth a golden ball to vote for the procurator. Of the eight-and-twenty votes collected, fourteen were for me, and as many for Lomellino. His and Doria's were still wanting —
ZENTURIONE. Wanting! I gave my vote for Zibo. Doria – think of the wound inflicted on my honor – Doria —
ASSERATO (interrupting him). Such a thing was never heard of since the sea washed the walls of Genoa.
ZENTURIONE (continues, with great heat). Doria drew a sword, which he had concealed under a scarlet cloak – stuck it through my vote – called to the assembly —
ZIBO. "Senators, 'tis good-for-nothing – 'tis pierced through. Lomellino is procurator."
ZENTURIONE. "Lomellino is procurator." And threw his sword upon the table.
ASSERATO. And called out, "'Tis good-for-nothing!" and threw his sword upon the table.
FIESCO (after a pause). On what are you resolved?
ZENTURIONE. The republic is wounded to its very heart. On what are we resolved?
FIESCO. Zenturione, rushes may yield to a breath, but the oak requires a storm. I ask, on what are you resolved?
ZIBO. Methinks the question shall be, on what does Genoa resolve?
FIESCO. Genoa! Genoa! name it not. 'Tis rotten, and crumbles wherever you touch it. Do you reckon on the nobles? Perhaps because they put on grave faces, look mysterious when state affairs are mentioned – talk not of them! Their heroism is stifled among the bales of their Levantine merchandise. Their souls hover anxiously over their India fleet.
ZENTURIONE. Learn to esteem our nobles more justly. Scarcely was Doria's haughty action done when hundreds of them rushed into the street tearing their garments. The senate was dispersed —
FIESCO (sarcastically). Like frighted pigeons when the vulture darts upon the dovecot.
ZENTURIONE. No! (fiercely) – like powder-barrels when a match falls on them.
ZIBO. The people are enraged. What may we not expect from the fury of the wounded boar!
FIESCO (laughing). The blind, unwieldy monster, which at first rattles its heavy bones, threatening, with gaping jaws, to devour the high and low, the near and distant, at last stumbles at a thread – Genoese, 'tis in vain! The epoch of the masters of the sea is past – Genoa is sunk beneath the splendor of its name. Its state is such as once was Rome's, when, like a tennis-ball, she leaped into the racket of young Octavius. Genoa can be free no longer; Genoa must be fostered by a monarch; therefore do homage to the mad-brained Gianettino.
ZENTURIONE (vehemently). Yes, when the contending elements are reconciled, and when the north pole meets the south. Come, friends.
FIESCO. Stay! stay! Upon what project are you brooding, Zibo?
ZIBO. On nothing.
FIESCO (leading them to a statue). Look at this figure.
ZENTURIONE. It is the Florentine Venus. Why point to her?
FIESCO. At least she pleases you.
ZIBO. Undoubtedly, or we should be but poor Italians. But why this question now?
FIESCO. Travel through all the countries of the globe, and among the most beautiful of living female models, seek one which shall unite all the charms of this ideal Venus.
ZIBO. And then take for our reward?
FIESCO. Then your search will have convicted fancy of deceit —
ZENTURIONE (impatiently). And what shall we have gained?
FIESCO. Gained? The decision of the long-protracted contest between art and nature.
ZENTURIONE (eagerly). And what then?
FIESCO. Then, then? (Laughing.) Then your attention will have been diverted from observing the fall of Genoa's liberty.
[Exeunt all but FIESCO.
SCENE VI
FIESCO alone. (The noise without increases.)
FIESCO. 'Tis well! 'tis well. The straw of the republic has caught fire – the flames have seized already on palaces and towers. Let it go on! May the blaze be general! Let the tempestuous wind spread wide the conflagration!
SCENE VII
FIESCO, MOOR, entering in haste.
MOOR. Crowds upon crowds!
FIESCO. Throw open wide the gates. Let all that choose enter.
MOOR. Republicans! Republicans, indeed! They drag their liberty along, panting, like beasts of burden, beneath the yoke of their magnificent nobility.
FIESCO. Fools! who believe that Fiesco of Lavagna will carry on what Fiesco of Lavagna did not begin. The tumult comes opportunely; but the conspiracy must be my own. They are rushing hither —
MOOR (going out). Halloo! halloo! You are very obligingly battering the house down. (The people rush in; the doors broken down.)
SCENE VIII
FIESCO, twelve ARTISANS.
ALL ARTISANS. Vengeance on Doria! Vengeance on Gianettino!
FIESCO. Gently! gently! my countrymen! Your waiting thus upon me bespeaks the warmth of your affection; but I pray you have mercy on my ears!
ALL (with impetuosity). Down with the Dorias! Down with them, uncle and nephew!
FIESCO (counting them with a smile). Twelve is a mighty force!
SOME OF THEM. These Dorias must away! the state must be reformed!
1ST ARTISAN. To throw our magistrates down stairs! The magistrates!
2D ARTISAN. Think, Count Lavagna – down stairs! because they opposed them in the election —
ALL. It must not be endured! it shall not be endured!
3D ARTISAN. To take a sword into the senate!
1ST ARTISAN. A sword? – the sign of war – into the chamber of peace!
2D ARTISAN. To come into the senate dressed in scarlet! Not like the other senators, in black.
1ST ARTISAN. To drive through our capital with eight horses!
ALL. A tyrant! A traitor to the country and the government!
2D ARTISAN. To hire two hundred Germans from the Emperor for his body-guard.
1ST ARTISAN. To bring foreigners in arms against the natives – Germans against Italians – soldiers against laws!
ALL. 'Tis treason! – 'tis a plot against the liberty of Genoa!
1ST ARTISAN. To have the arms of the republic painted on his coach!
2D ARTISAN. The statue of Andreas placed in the centre of the senate-house!
ALL. Dash them to pieces – both the statue and the man —
FIESCO. Citizens of Genoa, why this to me?
1ST ARTISAN. You should not suffer it. You should keep him down.
2D ARTISAN. You are a wise man, and should not suffer it. You should direct us by your counsel.
1ST ARTISAN. You are a better nobleman. You should chastise them and curb their insolence.
FIESCO. Your confidence is flattering. Can I merit it by deeds?
ALL (clamorously). Strike! Down with the tyrant! Make us free!
FIESCO. But – will you hear me?
SOME. Speak, Count!
FIESCO (seating himself). Genoese, – the empire of the animals was once thrown into confusion; parties struggled with parties, till at last a bull-dog seized the throne. He, accustomed to drive the cattle to the knife of the butcher, prowled in savage manner through the state. He barked, he bit, and gnawed his subjects' bones. The nation murmured; the boldest joined together, and killed the princely monster. Now a general assembly was held to decide upon the important question, which form of government was best. There were three different opinions. Genoese, what would be your decision?
1ST ARTISAN. For the people – everything in common —
FIESCO. The people gained it. The government was democratical; each citizen had a vote, and everything was submitted to a majority. But a few weeks passed ere man declared war against the new republic. The state assembled. Horse, lion, tiger, bear, elephant, and rhinoceros, stepped forth, and roared aloud, "To arms!" The rest were called upon to vote. The lamb, the hare, the stag, the ass, the tribe of insects, with the birds and timid fishes, cried for peace. See, Genoese! The cowards were more numerous than the brave; the foolish than the wise. Numbers prevailed – the beasts laid down their arms, and man exacted contributions from them. The democratic system was abandoned. Genoese, what would you next have chosen?
1ST AND 2D ARTISANS. A select government!
FIESCO. That was adopted. The business of the state was all arranged in separate departments. Wolves were the financiers, foxes their secretaries, doves presided in the criminal courts, and tigers in the courts of equity. The laws of chastity were regulated by goats; hares were the soldiers; lions and elephants had charge of the baggage. The ass was the ambassador of the empire, and the mole appointed inspector-general of the whole administration. Genoese, what think you of this wise distribution? Those whom the wolf did not devour the fox pillaged; whoever escaped from him was knocked down by the ass. The tiger murdered innocents, whilst robbers and assassins were pardoned by the doves. And at the last, when each had laid down his office, the mole declared that all were well discharged. The animals rebelled. "Let us," they cried unanimously, "choose a monarch endowed with strength and skill, and who has only one stomach to appease." And to one chief they all did homage. Genoese – to one – but (rising and advancing majestically) – that one was – the lion!
ALL (shouting, and throwing up their hats). Bravo! Bravo! Well managed, Count Lavagna!
1ST ARTISAN. And Genoa shall follow that example. Genoa, also, has its lion!
FIESCO. Tell me not of that lion; but go home and think upon him. (The ARTISANS depart tumultuously.) It is as I would have it. The people and the senate are alike enraged against Doria; the people and the senate alike approve FIESCO. Hassan! Hassan! I must take advantage of this favorable gale. Hoa! Hassan! Hassan! I must augment their hatred – improve my influence. Hassan! Come hither! Whoreson of hell, come hither!
SCENE IX
FIESCO, MOOR entering hastily.
MOOR. My feet are quite on fire with running. What is the matter now?
FIESCO. Hear my commands!
MOOR (submissively). Whither shall I run first?
FIESCO. I will excuse thy running this time. Thou shalt be dragged. Prepare thyself. I intend to publish thy attempted assassination, and deliver thee up in chains to the criminal tribunal.
MOOR (taking several steps backward). Sir! – that's contrary to agreement.
FIESCO. Be not alarmed. 'Tis but a farce. At this moment 'tis of the utmost consequence that Gianettino's attempt against my life should be made public. Thou shalt be tried before the criminal tribunal.
MOOR. Must I confess it, or deny?
FIESCO. Deny. They will put thee to the torture. Thou must hold out against the first degree. This, by the by, will serve to expiate thy real crime. At the second thou mayest confess.
MOOR (shaking his head with a look of apprehension). The devil is a sly rogue. Their worships might perhaps desire my company a little longer than I should wish; and, for sheer farce sake, I may be broken on the wheel.
FIESCO. Thou shalt escape unhurt, I give thee my honor as a nobleman. I shall request, as satisfaction, to have thy punishment left to me, and then pardon thee before the whole republic.
MOOR. Well – I agree to it. They will draw out my joints a little; but that will only make them the more flexible.
FIESCO. Then scratch this arm with thy dagger, till the blood flows. I will pretend that I have just now seized thee in fact. 'Tis well. (Hallooing violently). Murder! Murder! Guard the passages! Make fast the gates! (He drags the MOOR out by the throat; servants run across the stage hastily.)
SCENE X
LEONORA and ROSA enter hastily, alarmed.
LEONORA. Murder! they cried – murder! – The noise came this way.
ROSA. Surely 'twas but a common tumult, such as happens every day in Genoa.
LEONORA. They cried murder! and I distinctly heard Fiesco's name. In vain you would deceive me. My heart discovers what is concealed from my eyes. Quick! Hasten after them. See! Tell me whither they carry him.
ROSA. Collect your spirits, madam. Arabella is gone.
LEONORA. Arabella will catch his dying look. The happy Arabella! Wretch that I am? 'twas I that murdered him. If I could have engaged his heart he would not have plunged into the world, nor rushed upon the daggers of assassins. Ah! she comes. Away! Oh, Arabella, speak not to me!
SCENE XI
The former, ARABELLA.
ARABELLA. The Count is living and unhurt. I saw him gallop through the city. Never did he appear more handsome. The steed that bore him pranced haughtily along, and with its proud hoof kept the thronging multitude at a distance from its princely rider. He saw me as I passed, and with a gracious smile, pointing thither, thrice kissed his hand to me. (Archly.) What can I do with those kisses, madam?
LEONORA (highly pleased). Idle prattler! Restore them to him.
ROSA. See now, how soon your color has returned!
LEONORA. His heart he is ready to fling at every wench, whilst I sigh in vain for a look! Oh woman! woman!
[Exeunt
SCENE XII. – The Palace of ANDREAS
GIANETTINO and LOMELLINO enter hastily.
GIANETTINO. Let them roar for their liberty as a lioness for her young. I am resolved.
LOMELLINO. But – most gracious prince!
GIANETTINO. Away to hell with thy buts, thou three-hours procurator! I will not yield a hair's breadth? Let Genoa's towers shake their heads, and the hoarse sea bellow No to it. I value not the rebellious multitude!
LOMELLINO. The people are indeed the fuel; but the nobility fan the flame. The whole republic is in a ferment, people and patricians.
GIANETTINO. Then will I stand upon the mount like Nero, and regale myself with looking upon the paltry flames.
LOMELLINO. Till the whole mass of sedition falls into the hands of some enterprising leader, who will take advantage of the general devastation.
GIANETTINO. Poh! Poh! I know but one who might be dangerous, and he is taken care of.
LOMELLINO. His highness comes.
Enter ANDREAS – (both bow respectfully).
ANDREAS. Signor Lomellino, my niece wishes to take the air.
LOMELLINO. I shall have the honor of attending her.
[Exit LOMELLINO.
SCENE XIII
ANDREAS and GIANETTINO.
ANDREAS. Nephew, I am much displeased with you.
GIANETTINO. Grant me a hearing, most gracious uncle!
ANDREAS. That would I grant to the meanest beggar in Genoa if he were worthy of it. Never to a villain, though he were my nephew. It is sufficient favor that I address thee as an uncle, not as a sovereign!
GIANETTINO. One word only, gracious sir!
ANDREAS. Hear first what thou hast done; then answer me. Thou hast pulled down an edifice which I have labored for fifty years to raise – that which should have been thy uncle's mausoleum, his only pyramid – the affections of his countrymen. This rashness Andreas pardons thee —
GIANETTINO. My uncle and my sovereign —
ANDREAS. Interrupt me not. Thou hast injured that most glorious work of mine, the constitution, which I brought down from heaven for Genoa, which cost me so many sleepless nights, so many dangers, and so much blood. Before all Genoa thou hast cast a stain upon my honor, in violating my institutions. Who will hold them sacred if my own blood despise them? This folly thy uncle pardons thee.
GIANETTINO (offended). Sir, you educated me to be the Duke of Genoa.
ANDREAS. Be silent. Thou art a traitor to the state, and hast attacked its vital principle. Mark me, boy! That principle is – subordination. Because the shepherd retired in the evening from his labor, thoughtest thou the flock deserted? Because Andreas' head is white with age, thoughtest thou, like a villain, to trample on the laws?
GIANETTINO (insolently). Peace, Duke! In my veins also boils the blood of that Andreas before whom France has trembled.
ANDREAS. Be silent! I command thee. When I speak the sea itself is wont to pay attention. Thou hast insulted the majesty of justice in its very sanctuary. Rebel! dost thou know what punishment that crime demands? Now answer! (GIANETTINO appears struck, and fixes his eyes on the ground without speaking). Wretched Andreas! In thy own heart hast thou fostered the canker of thy renown. I built up a fabric for Genoa which should mock the lapse of ages, and am myself the first to cast a firebrand into it. Thank my gray head, which would be laid in the grave by a relation's hand – thank my unjust love that, on the scaffold, I pour not out thy rebellious blood to satisfy the violated laws.
[Exit.
SCENE XIV
GIANETTINO looks after the DUKE, speechless with anger, LOMELLINO entering, breathless and terrified.
LOMELLINO. What have I seen! What have I heard! Fly, prince! Fly quickly! All is lost.
GIANETTINO (with inward rage). What was there to lose?
LOMELLINO. Genoa, prince: I come from the market-place. The people were crowding round a Moor who was dragged along bound with cords. The Count of Lavagna, with above three hundred nobles, followed to the criminal court. The Moor had been employed to assassinate Fiesco, and in the attempt was seized.
GIANETTINO (stamping violently on the ground). What, are all the devils of hell let loose at once?
LOMELLINO. They questioned him most strictly concerning his employer. The Moor confessed nothing. They tried the first degree of torture. Still he confessed nothing. They put him to the second. Then he spoke – he spoke. My gracious lord, how could you trust your honor to such a villain?
GIANETTINO (fiercely). Ask me no question?
LOMELLINO. Hear the rest! Scarcely was the word Doria uttered – I would sooner have seen my name inscribed in the infernal register than have heard yours thus mentioned – scarcely was it uttered when Fiesco showed himself to the people. You know the man – how winningly he pleads – how he is wont to play the usurer with the hearts of the multitude. The whole assembly hung upon his looks, breathless with indignation. He spoke little, but bared his bleeding arm. The crowd contended for the falling drops as if for sacred relics. The Moor was given up to his disposal – and Fiesco – a mortal blow for us! Fiesco pardoned him. Now the confined anger of the people burst forth in one tumultuous clamor. Each breath annihilated a Doria, and Fiesco was borne home amidst a thousand joyful acclamations.
GIANETTINO (with a ferocious laugh). Let the flood of tumult swell up to my very throat. The emperor! That sound alone shall strike them to the earth, so that not a murmur shall be heard in Genoa.
LOMELLINO. Bohemia is far from hence. If the emperor come speedily he may perhaps be present at your funeral feast.
GIANETTINO (drawing forth a letter with a great seal). 'Tis fortunate that he is here already. Art thou surprised at this? And didst thou think me mad enough to brave the fury of enraged republicans had I not known they were betrayed and sold?
LOMELLINO (with astonishment). I know not what to think!
GIANETTINO. But I have thought of something which thou couldst not know. My plan is formed. Ere two days are past twelve senators must fall. Doria becomes sovereign, and the Emperor Charles protects him. Thou seemest astonished —
LOMELLINO. Twelve senators! My heart is too narrow to comprehend a twelvefold murder.
GIANETTINO. Fool that thou art! The throne will absolve the deed. I consulted with the ministers of Charles on the strong party which France still has in Genoa, and by which she might a second time seize on it unless they should be rooted out. This worked upon the emperor – he approved my projects – and thou shalt write what I will dictate to thee.
LOMELLINO. I know not yet your purpose.
GIANETTINO. Sit down and write —
LOMELLINO. But what am I to write? (Seats himself.)
GIANETTINO. The names of the twelve candidates for death – Francis Zenturione.
LOMELLINO (writes). In gratitude for his vote he leads the funeral procession.
GIANETTINO. Cornelio Calva.
LOMELLINO. Calva.
GIANETTINO. Michael Zibo.
LOMELLINO. To cool him after his disappointment in the procuratorship.
GIANETTINO. Thomas Asserato and his three brothers. (LOMELLINO stops.)
GIANETTINO (forcibly). And his three brothers —
LOMELLINO (writes). Go on.
GIANETTINO. Fiesco of Lavagna.
LOMELLINO. Have a care! Have a care! That black stone will yet prove fatal to you.
GIANETTINO. Scipio Bourgognino.
LOMELLINO. He may celebrate elsewhere his wedding —
GIANETTINO. Ay, where I shall be director of the nuptials. Raphael Sacco.
LOMELLINO. I should intercede for his life until he shall have paid my five thousand crowns. (Writes.) Death strikes the balance.
GIANETTINO. Vincent Calcagno.
LOMELLINO. Calcagno. The twelfth I write at my own risk, unless our mortal enemy be overlooked.
GIANETTINO. The end crowns all – Joseph Verrina.
LOMELLINO. He is the very head of the viper that threatens us. (Rises and presents the paper to GIANETTINO.) Two days hence death shall make a splendid feast, at which twelve of the chief of Genoa's nobles will be present.
GIANETTINO (signs the paper). 'Tis done. Two days hence will be the ducal election. When the senate shall be assembled for that purpose these twelve shall, on the signal of a handkerchief, be suddenly laid low. My two hundred Germans will have surrounded the senate-house. At that moment I enter and claim homage as the Duke. (Rings the bell.)
LOMELLINO. And what of Andreas?
GIANETTINO (contemptuously). He is an old man. (Enter a servant.) If the Duke should ask for me say I am gone to mass. (Exit servant.) I must conceal the devil that's within beneath a saintly garb.
LOMELLINO. But, my lord, the paper?
GIANETTINO. Take it, and let it be circulated among our party. This letter must be dispatched by express to Levanto. 'Tis to inform Spinola of our intended plan, and bid him reach the capital early in the morning. (Going.)
LOMELLINO. Stop, prince. There is an error in our calculation. Fiesco does not attend the senate.
GIANETTINO (looking back). Genoa will easily supply one more assassin. I'll see to that.
[Exeunt different ways.
SCENE XV
An Ante-chamber in FIESCO'S Palace.
FIESCO, with papers before him, and MOOR.
FIESCO. Four galleys have entered the harbor, dost say?
MOOR. Yes, they're at anchor in the port.
FIESCO. That's well. Whence are these expresses?
MOOR. From Rome, Placentia, and France.
FIESCO (opens the letters and runs over them). Welcome! welcome news! (In high spirits.) Let the messengers be treated in a princely manner.
MOOR. Hem! (Going.).
FIESCO. Stop, stop! Here's work for thee in plenty.
MOOR. Command me. I am ready to act the setter or the bloodhound.
FIESCO. I only want at present the voice of the decoy-bird. To-morrow early two thousand men will enter the city in disguise to engage in my service. Distribute thy assistants at the gates, and let them keep a watchful eye upon the strangers that arrive. Some will be dressed like pilgrims on their journey to Loretto, others like mendicant friars, or Savoyards, or actors; some as peddlers and musicians; but the most as disbanded soldiers coming to seek a livelihood in Genoa. Let every one be asked where he takes up his lodging. If he answer at the Golden Snake, let him be treated as a friend and shown my habitation. But remember, sirrah, I rely upon thy prudence.
MOOR. Sir, as securely as upon my knavery. If a single head escape me, pluck out my eyes and shoot at sparrows with them. (Going.)
FIESCO. Stop! I've another piece of business for thee. The arrival of the galleys will excite suspicion in the city. If any one inquire of thee about them, say thou hast heard it rumored that thy master intends to cruise against the Turks. Dost thou understand me?
MOOR. Yes, yes – the beards of the Mussulmen at the masthead, but the devil for a steersman. (Going.)
FIESCO. Gently – one more precaution. Gianettino has new reasons to hate me and lay snares against my life. Go – sound the fellows of thy trade; see if thou canst not smell out some plot on foot against me. Visit the brothels – Doria often frequents them. The secrets of the cabinet are sometimes lodged within the folds of a petticoat. Promise these ladies golden customers. Promise them thy master. Let nothing be too sacred to be used in gaining the desired information.
MOOR. Ha! luckily I am acquainted with one Diana Buononi, whom I have served above a year as procurer. The other day I saw the Signor Lomellino coming out of her house.
FIESCO. That suits my purpose well. This very Lomellino is the key to all Doria's follies. To-morrow thou shalt go thither. Perhaps he is to-night the Endymion of this chaste Diana.
MOOR. One more question, my lord. Suppose the people ask me – and that they will, I'll pawn my soul upon it – suppose they ask, "What does Fiesco think of Genoa?" Would you still wear the mask? – or – how shall I answer them?
FIESCO. Answer? Hum! The fruit is ripe. The pains of labor announce the approaching birth. Answer that Genoa lies upon the block, and that thy master's name is – John Louis Fiesco —
MOOR (with an air of satisfaction). That, by my rogue's honor, shall be done to your heart's content. Now be wide awake, friend Hassan! First to a tavern! My feet have work enough cut out for them. I must coax my stomach to intercede with my legs. (Hastening away – returns.) Oh, apropos! My chattering made me almost forget one circumstance. You wished to know what passed between Calcagno and your wife. A refusal, sir – that's all.
[Runs off.
SCENE XVI
FIESCO alone.
FIESCO. I pity thee, Calcagno. Didst thou think I should, upon so delicate a point, have been thus careless had I not relied in perfect security on my wife's virtue and my own deserts? Yet I welcome this passion. Thou art a good soldier. It shall procure me thy arm for the destruction of Doria. (Walking up and down.) Now, Doria, to the scene of action! All the machines are ready for the grand attempt – the instruments are tuned for the terrific concert. Naught is wanting but to throw off the mask, and show Fiesco to the patriots of Genoa. (Some persons are heard approaching.) Ha! Visitors! Who can be coming to disturb me?
SCENE XVII
FIESCO, VERRINA, ROMANO, with a picture; SACCO, BOURGOGNINO, CALCAGNO.
FIESCO (receiving them with great affability). Welcome, my worthy friends! What important business brings you all hither? Are you, too, come, my dear brother, Verrina? I should almost have forgotten you, had you not oftener been present to my thoughts than to my sight. I think I have not seen you since my last entertainment.
VERRINA. Do not count the hours, Fiesco! Heavy burdens have in that interval weighed down my aged head. But enough of this —
FIESCO. Not enough to satisfy the anxiety of friendship. You must inform me farther when we are alone. (Addressing BOURGOGNINO.) Welcome, brave youth! Our acquaintance is yet green; but my affection for thee is already ripe. Has your esteem for me improved?
BOURGOGNINO. 'Tis on the increase.
FIESCO. Verrina, it is reported that this brave young man is to be your son-in-law. Receive my warmest approbation of your choice. I have conversed with him but once; and yet I should be proud to call him my relation.
VERRINA. That judgment makes me of my daughter vain.
FIESCO (to the others). Sacco, Calcagno – all unfrequent visitors – I should fear the absence of Genoa's noblest ornaments were a proof that I had been deficient in hospitality. And here I greet a fifth guest, unknown to me, indeed, but sufficiently recommended by this worthy circle.
ROMANO. He, my lord, is simply a painter, by name Julio Romano, who lives by theft and counterfeit of Nature's charms. His pencil is his only escutcheon; and he now comes hither (bowing profoundly) to seek the manly outlines of a Brutus.
FIESCO. Give me your hand, Romano! I love the mistress of your soul with a holy fire. Art is the right hand of Nature. The latter only gave us being, but 'twas the former made us men. What are the subjects of your labor?
ROMANO. Scenes from the heroic ages of antiquity. At Florence is my dying Hercules, at Venice my Cleopatra, the raging Ajax at Rome, where, in the Vatican, the heroes of former times rise again to light.
FIESCO. And what just now employs you?
ROMANO. Alas! my lord, I've thrown away my pencil. The lamp of genius burns quicker than the lamp of life. Beyond a certain moment the flame flickers and dies. This is my last production.
FIESCO (in a lively manner). It could not come more opportune. I feel to-day a more than usual cheerfulness. A sentiment of calm delight pervades my being, and fits it to receive the impression of Nature's beauties. Let us view your picture. I shall feast upon the sight. Come, friends, we will devote ourselves entirely to the artist. Place your picture.