FIESCO. And yet, my Julia--where could'st thou bestow this treasure
better than on my endless passion?
JULIA. Certainly, nowhere better, and nowhere worse? Tell me, Fiesco,
how long will this endless passion endure? But, alas! I've risked too
much already now to hesitate at staking my last. I trusted boldly to my
charms to captivate thee--to preserve thy love, I fear they'll prove too
weak. Fie upon me!--what am I uttering? (Hides her face with her
hands.)
FIESCO. Two sins in one breath. Mistrust in my taste, and treason
against the sovereignty of your charms? Which of the two is the most
difficult to forgive?
JULIA (in a tremulous, imploring tone). Falsehood is the armory of hell!
Fiesco needs not this to gain his Julia. (She sinks exhausted on a sofa:
after a pause--energetically.) Hear, Fiesco! One word more. When we
know our virtue to be in safety, we are heroines; in its defence, no more
than children; (fixing her eyes on him wildly)--furies, when we avenge
it. Hear me! Should'st thou strike me to the heart with coldness?
FIESCO (assuming an angry tone). Coldness? coldness? Heavens! What
does the insatiable vanity of woman look for, if she even doubt the man
who lies prostrate at her feet? Ha! my spirit is awakened; my eyes at
length are opened. (With an air of coldness.) What was this mighty
sacrifice? Man dearly purchases a woman's highest favors by the
slightest degradation! (Bowing ceremoniously.) Take courage, madam! you
are safe.
JULIA (with astonishment). Count! what sudden change is this?
FIESCO (with great indifference). True, madam! You judge most rightly;
we both have risked our honor. (Bowing ceremoniously.) I will await the
pleasure of your company among my guests. (Going.)
JULIA (stops him). Stay! art thou mad? Must I, then, declare a passion
which the whole race of men, upon their knees, should not extort from my
inflexible pride? Alas! in vain the darkness strives to hide the blushes
which betray my guilt. Fiesco--I wound the pride of all my sex--my sex
will all detest me--Fiesco--I adore thee--(falls at his feet).
FIESCO (steps back without raising her, laughing with exultation). That
I am sorry for, signora--(rings the bell--draws the tapestry, and
discovers LEONORA). Here is my wife--an angel of a woman! (Embracing
her.)
JULIA (with a shriek). Unheard-of treachery!
SCENE XIII.
The CONSPIRATORS, entering in a body--LADIES on
the other side--FIESCO, JULIA, and LEONORA.
LEONORA. Oh, my husband, that was too cruel!
FIESCO. A wicked heart deserved no less. I owed this satisfaction to
your tears. (To the company.) No,--my friends--I am not wont on every
slight occasion to kindle into passion. The follies of mankind amuse me
long ere they excite my anger; but this woman merits my whole resentment.
Behold the poison which she had mingled for my beloved Leonora. (Shows
the poison to the company--they start with horror.)
JULIA (biting her lips with rage). Good! Good! Very good, Sir!
(Going.)
FIESCO (leads her back by the arm). You must have patience, madam;
something else remains. My friends, perhaps, would gladly learn why I
debased my reason with the farce of love for Genoa's silliest coquette.
JULIA (starting up). It is not to be borne. But tremble! Doria rules
in Genoa, and I am Doria's sister----
FIESCO. Poor, indeed, if that be your only sting! Know that Fiesco of
Lavagna has changed the diadem of your illustrious brother for a halter,
and means this night to hang the thief of the republic. (She is struck
with terror--he continues with a sarcastic laugh.) Ha! that was
unexpected. And do you see, madam, 'twas for this purpose that I tried
to blind the eyes of the Dorias. For this I assumed a mock passion--
(pointing to JULIA.) For this I cast away this precious jewel--(pointing
to LEONORA); and by shining bait ensnared my prey. I thank you for your
complaisance, signora--(to JULIA;) and resign the trappings of my assumed
character. (Delivers her the miniature with a bow.)
LEONORA (to FIESCO, in a supplicating tone). She weeps, my Lodovico.
May your Leonora, trembling, entreat you?
JULIA (enraged, to LEONORA). Silence, detested woman!
FIESCO (to a SERVANT). Be polite to my friend; escort this lady. She
has a mind to see my prison-chamber--take care that none approach to
incommode her. The night air is blowing somewhat keenly, the storm which
rives the house of Doria may, perchance, ruffle the lady's head-dress.
JULIA. Curses on thee, black, detested hypocrite! (Enraged, to
LEONORA.) Rejoice not at thy triumph! He will destroy thee also, and
himself--and then despair! (Rushing out!)
FIESCO (to the guests). You were witnesses; let your report in Genoa
preserve my honor. (To the CONSPIRATORS.) Call on me as soon as the
cannon gives the signal. (All the guests retire.)
SCENE XIV.
LEONORA and FIESCO.
LEONORA (approaching with anxiety). Fiesco! Fiesco! I understand but
half your meaning; yet I begin to tremble.
FIESCO (significantly). Leonora! I once saw you yield the place of
honor to another. I saw you, in the presence of the nobles, receive the
second compliment. Leonora, that sight tormented me. I resolved it
should be so no longer. Henceforth it ceases. Do you hear the warlike
noise which echoes through my palace? What you suspect is true. Retire
to rest, countess, to-morrow you shall awake Duchess of Genoa.
LEONORA (clasping her hands together, and throwing herself into a chair).
O God! My very fears! I am undone!
FIESCO (seriously, and with dignity). Let me speak out, my love. Two of
my ancestors wore the triple crown. The blood of the Fiescos flows not
pure unless beneath the purple. Shall your husband only reflect a
borrowed splendor? (In a more energetic manner.) What! shall he owe his
rank alone to capricious chance, which, from the ashes of mouldering
greatness, has patched together a John Louis Fiesco? No, Leonora, I am
too proud to accept from others what my own powers may achieve. This
night the hereditary titles of my ancestors shall return to deck their
tombs--Lavagna's counts exist no longer--a race of princes shall begin.
LEONORA (mournfully, and giving way to imagination). I see my husband
fall, transfixed by deadly wounds. (In a hollow voice.) I see them bear
my husband's mangled corpse towards me. (Starting up.) The first--the
only ball has pierced Fiesco's heart.
FIESCO (tenderly seizing her hand). Be calm, my love. The only ball
will not strike me.
LEONORA (looking steadfastly at him). Does Fiesco so confidently
challenge Heaven? If, in the scope of countless possibilities, one
chance alone were adverse, that one might happen, and I should lose my
husband. Think that thou venturest Heaven, Fiesco; and though a million
chances were in thy favor, wouldst thou dare tempt the Almighty by
risking on a cast thy hopes of everlasting happiness? No, my husband!
When thy whole being is at stake each throw is blasphemy.
FIESCO. Be not alarmed. Fortune and I are better friends.
LEONORA. Ah! say you so, Fiesco? You, who have watched the
soul-convulsing game, which some call pastime? Have you not seen
the sly deceiver, Fortune, how she leads on her votary with gradual
favors, till, heated with success, he rushes headlong and stakes his all
upon a single cast? Then in the decisive moment she forsakes him, a
victim of his rashness--and stood you then unmoved? Oh, my husband,
think not that thou hast but to show thyself among the people to be
adored. 'Tis no slight task to rouse republicans from their slumber and
turn them loose, like the unbridled steed, just conscious of his hoofs.
Trust not those traitors. They among them who are most discerning, even
while they instigate thy valor, fear it; the vulgar worship thou with
senseless and unprofitable adoration. Whichever way I look Fiesco is
undone.
FIESCO (pacing the room in great emotion). To be irresolute is the most
certain danger. He that aspires to greatness must be daring.
LEONORA. Greatness, Fiesco! Alas! thy towering spirit ill accords with
the fond wishes of my heart. Should fortune favor thy attempt--shouldst
thou obtain dominion--alas! I then shall be but the more wretched.
Condemned to misery shouldst thou fail--if thou succeed, to misery still
greater. Here is no choice but evil. Unless he gain the ducal power,
Fiesco perishes--if I embrace the duke I lose my husband.
FIESCO. I understand you not.
LEONORA. Ah! my Fiesco, in the stormy atmosphere that surrounds a throne
the tender plant of love must perish. The heart of man, e'en were that
heart Fiesco's, is not vast enough for two all-powerful idols--idols so
hostile to each other. Love has tears, and can sympathize with tears.
Ambition has eyes of stone, from which no drop of tenderness can e'er
distil. Love has but one favored object, and is indifferent to all the
world beside. Ambition, with insatiable hunger, rages amid the spoil
of nature, and changes the immense world into one dark and horrid
prison-house. Love paints in every desert an elysium. And when thou
wouldest recline upon my bosom, the cares of empires, or rebellious
vassals, would fright away repose. If I should throw myself into thy
arms, thy despot fears would hear a murderer rushing forth to strike
thee, and urge thy trembling flight through all the palace. Nay, black
suspicion would at last o'erwhelm domestic concord. If thy Leonora's
tenderness should offer thee a refreshing draught, thou wouldst with
horror push away the goblet, and call it poison----
FIESCO (starting). Leonora, cease! These thoughts are dreadful.
LEONORA. And yet the picture is not finished. Let love be sacrificed to
greatness--and even peace of mind--if Fiesco but remained unchanged. O
God! that thought is racking torture. Seldom do angels ascend the
throne--still seldomer do they descend it such. Can he know pity who is
raised above the common fears of man? Will he speak the accents of
compassion who at every wish can launch a bolt of thunder to enforce it.
(She stops, then timidly advances, and takes his hand with a look of
tender reproach.) Princes, Fiesco--these abortions of ambition and
weakness--who presume to sit in judgment 'twixt the godhead and
mortality. Wicked servants--worse rulers.
FIESCO (walking about much agitated). Leonora, cease! The bridge is
raised behind me----
LEONORA (with a look of tenderness). And why, my husband? Deeds alone
are irrevocable. Thou once didst swear (fondly clinging to him, and
somewhat archly) that all thy projects vanished before my beauty. Thou
hast foresworn thyself, dissembler--or else my charms have prematurely
withered. Ask thy own heart where lies the blame? (More ardently, and
throwing her arms round him.) Return, Fiesco! Conquer thyself!
Renounce! Love shall indemnify thee. O Fiesco, if my heart cannot
appease thy insatiate passions, the diadem will be found still poorer.
Come, I'll study the inmost wishes of this soul. I will melt into one
kiss of love all the charms of nature, to retain forever in these
heavenly bonds the illustrious captive. As thy heart is infinite, so
shall be my passion. To be a source of happiness to a being who places
all its heaven in thee, Fiesco? Ought that to leave any void in thy
heart.
FIESCO (with great emotion). Leonora--what hast thou done? (He falls,
overcome, on her neck.) I shall never more dare to meet the eyes of
Genoa's citizens.
LEONORA (with lively expression). Let us fly, Fiesco! let us with scorn
reject these gaudy nothings, and pass our future days only in the
retreats of love! (She presses him to her breast with rapture.) Our
souls, serene as the unclouded sky, shall never more be blackened by the
poisonous breath of sorrow; our lives shall flow harmoniously as the
music of the murmuring brook. (A cannon-shot is heard--FIESCO disengages
himself--all the conspirators enter.)
SCENE XV.
CONSPIRATORS. The hour is come!
FIESCO (to LEONORA, firmly). Farewell! forever unless Genoa to-morrow be
laid prostrate at thy feet. (Going to rush out.)
BOURGOGNINO (cries out). The countess faints! (LEONORA in a swoon--all
run to support her.)
FIESCO (kneeling before her, in a tone of despair). Leonora! Save her!
For heaven's sake save her! (ROSA and ARABELLA run to her assistance.)
She lives--she opens her eyes (jumps up resolutely). Now to close
Doria's! (Conspirators rush out.)
ACT V.
SCENE I.-After midnight. The great street of Genoa. A few lamps, which
gradually become extinguished. In the background is seen the Gate of St.
Thomas, which is shut. Men pass over the stage with lanterns. The
patrol go their round. Afterwards, everything is quiet except the waves
of the sea, which are heard at a distance, rather tempestuous.
FIESCO (armed, before the Doria Palace), and ANDREAS.
FIESCO. The old man has kept his word. The lights are all extinguished
in the palace--the guards dismissed--I'll ring. (Rings at the gate.)
Ho! Halloo! Awake, Doria! Thou art betrayed. Awake! Halloo! Halloo!
ANDREAS (appearing at the balcony). Who rings there?
FIESCO (in a feigned voice). Ask not, but follow me! Duke, thy star has
set; Genoa is in arms against thee! Thy executioners are near, and canst
thou sleep, Andreas?
ANDREAS (with dignity). I remember when the raging sea contended with my
gallant vessel--when her keel cracked and the wind split her topmast.
Yet Andreas Doria then slept soundly. Who sends these executioners!
FIESCO. A man more terrible than your raging sea--John Louis Fiesco.
ANDREAS (laughs). You jest, my friend. Come in the daytime to play your
tricks. Midnight suits them badly.
FIESCO. Dost thou then despise thy monitor?
ANDREAS. I thank him and retire to rest. Fiesco, wearied with his
rioting, sleeps, and has no time to think of Doria.
FIESCO. Wretched old man! Trust not the artful serpent! Its back is
decked with beauteous colors; but when you would approach to view it you
are suddenly entwined within its deadly folds. You despised the
perfidious Moor. Do not despise the counsels of a friend. A horse
stands ready saddled for you; fly, while you have time!
ANDREAS. Fiesco has a noble mind. I never injured him, and he will not
betray me.
FIESCO. Fiesco has a noble mind and yet betrays thee. He gives thee
proof of both.
ANDREAS. There is a guard, which would defy Fiesco's power, unless he
led against them legions of spirits.
FIESCO (scornfully). That guard I should be glad to see to despatch it
with a message for eternity.
ANDREAS (in an elevated manner). Vain scoffer! Knowest thou not that
Andreas has seen his eightieth year, and that Genoa beneath his rule is
happy? (Leaves the balcony.)
FIESCO (looks after him with astonishment). Must I then destroy this man
before I have learnt how difficult it is to equal him? (He walks up and
down some time in meditation). 'Tis past, Andreas. I have repaid the
debt of greatness. Destruction take thy course! (He hastens into a
remote street. Drums are heard on all sides. A hot engagement at the
St. Thomas' Gate. The gate is forced, and opens a prospect in the
harbor, in which lie several ships with lights on board.)
SCENE II.
GIANETTINO (in a scarlet mantle). LOMELLINO--(Servants going
before them with torches).
GIANETTINO (stops). Who was it that commanded the alarm to be beat?
LOMELLINO. A cannon was fired on board one of the galleys.
GIANETTINO. The slaves perhaps have risen in mutiny. (Firing heard at
the gate of St. Thomas.)
LOMELLINO. Hark! A shot!
GIANETTINO. The gate is open. The guards are in confusion. (To the
servants.) Quick, rascals! Light us to the harbor. (Proceeding hastily
towards the gate.)
SCENE III.
The former; BOURGOGNINO, with some CONSPIRATORS, coming
from the gate of St. Thomas.
BOURGOGNINO. Sebastian Lascaro was a brave soldier.
ZENTURIONE. He defended himself like a bear till he fell.
GIANETTINO (steps back startled). What do I hear? (to his servants).
Stop!
BOURGOGNINO. Who goes there with torches?
LOMELLINO (to GIANETTINO). Prince, they are enemies. Turn to the left.
BOURGOGNINO (calls to then peremptorily). Who goes there with the
torches?
ZENTURIONE. Stand! Your watchword?
GIANETTINO (draws his sword fiercely). Loyalty and Doria!
BOURGOGNINO (foaming with rage). Violator of the republic and of my
bride! (To the CONSPIRATORS, rushing upon GIANETTINO.) Brothers, this
shortens our labor. His devils themselves deliver him into our hands--
(runs him through with his sword).
GIANETTINO (falling). Murder! Murder! Murder! Revenge me, Lomellino----
LOMELLINO and SERVANTS (flying). Help! Murder! Murder!
ZENTURIONE (halloing with vehemence). Doria is down. Stop the Count
Lomellino! (LOMELLINO is taken).
LOMELLINO (kneeling). Spare but my life, I'll join your party.
BOURGOGNINO (looking at GIANETTINO). Is this monster yet alive? Let the
coward fly. (LOMELLINO escapes.)
ZENTURIONE. St. Thomas' gate our own! Gianettino slain! Haste some of
you and tell Fiesco.
GIANETTINO (heaving himself from the ground in agony). Fiesco!
Damnation! (Dies.)
BOURGOGNINO (pulling the sword out of GIANETTINO'S body). Freedom to
Genoa, and to my Bertha. Your sword, Zenturione. Take to my bride this
bloody weapon--her dungeon is thrown open. I'll follow thee, and bring
the bridal kiss. (They separate through different streets.)
SCENE IV.
ANDREAS DORIA, GERMANS.
GERMAN. The storm drove that way. Mount your horse, duke!
ANDREAS. Let me cast a parting look at Genoa's towers! No; it is not a
dream. Andreas is betrayed.
GERMAN. The enemy is all around us. Away! Fly! Beyond the boundaries!
ANDREAS (throwing himself upon the dead body of his nephew). Here will I
die. Let no one talk of flight. Here lies the prop of my old age--my
career is ended. (CALCAGNO appears at a distance, with CONSPIRATORS.)
GERMAN. Danger is near. Fly, prince! (Drums beat.)
ANDREAS. Hark, Germans, bark! These are the Genoese whose chains I
broke. (Hiding his face.) Do your countrymen thus recompense their
benefactors?
GERMAN. Away! Away! while we stay here, and notch their swords upon our
German bones. (CALCAGNO comes nearer.)
ANDREAS. Save yourselves! Leave me! and go, declare the horrid story to
the shuddering nations that Genoa slew its father----
GERMAN. Slew! 'Sdeath, that shall not be. Comrades, stand firm!
Surround the duke! (They draw their swords.) Teach these Italian dogs
to reverence his gray head----
CALCAGNO (calls out). Who goes there? What have we here?
GERMAN. German blows--(retreat fighting, and carry off the body of
GIANETTINO.)
SCENE V.
LEONORA, in male attire, ARABELLA following--
they walk along timidly.
ARABELLA. Come, my lady, pray let us hasten onward.
LEONORA. This way the tumult rages--hark! was not that a dying groan?
Ah, they surround him! At Fiesco's breast they point their fatal
muskets--at my breast they point them. Hold! hold! It is my husband!
(Throws her arms up in agony.)
ARABELLA. For heaven's sake, my lady!
LEONORA (with wild enthusiasm, calling on all sides). O my Fiesco! my
Fiesco! His firmest friends desert him. The faith of rebels is unsteady
(shuddering). Rebels! Heaven? Is Fiesco, then, a chief of rebels?
ARABELLA. No, signora. He is the great deliverer of Genoa.
LEONORA (emphatically). Ha! that would indeed be glorious! And shall
Leonora tremble?--shall the bravest republican be wedded to the most
timid woman? Go, Arabella! When men contend for empires even a woman's
soul may kindle into valor. (Drums again heard.) I'll rush among the
combatants.
ARABELLA (clasping her hands together). All gracious heaven!
LEONORA. Softly! What strikes my foot? Here is a hat--and here a
mantle! A sword, too! (she lifts it up)--a heavy sword, my Arabella; but
I can carry it, and the sword shall not disgrace its bearer. (The
alarm-bell sounds.)
ARABELLA. Hark! hark! How terrible it sounds yonder, from the tower of
the Dominicans! God have mercy on us!
LEONORA (enthusiastically). Rather say, how delightful! In the majestic
sound of this alarm-bell my Fiesco speaks to Genoa. (Drums are heard
louder.) Ha! did flutes so sweetly strike my ear. Even these drums are
animated by Fiesco. My heart beats higher. All Genoa is roused; the
very mercenaries follow his name with transport--and shall his wife be
fearful? (Alarm-bells from three other towers.) No--my hero shall
embrace a heroine. My Brutus clasp within his arms a Roman wife. I'll
be his Portia. (Putting on GIANETTINO'S hat and throwing his scarlet
mantle round her.)
ARABELLA. My gracious lady, how wildly do you rave. (Alarm-bells and
drums are heard.)
LEONORA. Cold-blooded wretch; canst thou see and hear all this, and yet
not rave? The very stones are ready to weep that they have not feet to
run and join Fiesco. These palaces upbraid the builder, who had laid
their foundations so firmly in the earth that they cannot fly to join
Fiesco. The very shores, were they able, would forsake their office in
order to follow his glorious banner, though by so doing they abandoned
Genoa to the mercy of the ocean. What might shake death himself out of
his leaden sleep has not power to rouse thy courage? Away! I'll find my
way alone.
ARABELLA. Great God! You will not act thus madly?
LEONORA (with heroic haughtiness). Weak girl! I will. (With great
animation.) Where the tumult rages the most fiercely. Where Fiesco
himself leads on the combat. Methinks I hear them ask, "Is that Lavagna,
the unconquered hero, who with his sword decides the fate of Genoa? Is
that Lavagna?" Yes, I will say; yes, Genoese, that is Lavagna; and that
Lavagna is my husband!
SACCO (entering with CONSPIRATORS). Who goes there--Doria or Fiesco?
LEONORA (with enthusiasm). Fiesco and liberty. (Retires into another
street. A tumult, ARABELLA lost in the crowd.)
SCENE VI.
SACCO, with a number of followers. CALCAGNO,
meeting him with others.
CALCAGNO. Andreas has escaped.
SACCO. Unwelcome tidings to Fiesco.
CALCAGNO. Those Germans fight like furies! They planted themselves
around the old man like rocks. I could not even get a glimpse of him.
Nine of our men are done for; I myself was slightly wounded. Zounds! If
they thus serve a foreign tyrant, how will they guard the princes of
their country?
SACCO. Numbers have flocked already to our standard, and all the gates
are ours.
CALCAGNO. I hear they still are fighting desperately at the citadel.
SACCO. Bourgognino is amongst them. Where is Verrina?
CALCAGNO. He guards, like Cerberus, the passage between Genoa and the
sea--an anchovy could scarcely pass him.
SACCO. I'll rouse the suburbs----
CALCAGNO. I'll away to the market-place. Drummers, strike up! (They
march off, drums beating.)
SCENE VII.
MOOR. A troop of THIEVES, with lighted matches.
MOOR. Now I'll let you into a secret, my boys; 'twas I that cooked this
soup, but the devil a spoonful do they give me. Well, I care not. This
hubbub is just to my taste. We'll set about burning and plundering.
While they are squabbling for a dukedom we'll make a bonfire in the
churches that shall warm the frozen apostles. (They disperse themselves
among the neighboring houses.)
SCENE VIII.
BOURGOGNINO--BERTHA, disguised as a boy.
BOURGOGNINO. Rest here, dear youth; thou art in safety. Dost thou
bleed?
BERTHA (in a feigned voice). No; not at all.
BOURGOGNINO (with energy). Rise, then, I'll lead thee where thou mayst
gain wounds for Genoa--wounds beautiful like these. (Uncovering his
arm.)
BERTHA (starting). Heavens!
BOURGOGNINO. Art thou frightened, youth? Too early didst thou put on
the man. What age hast thou?
BERTHA. Fifteen years.
BOURGOGNINO. That is unfortunate! For this night's business thou art
five years too young. Who is thy father?
BERTHA. The truest citizen in Genoa.
BOURGOGNINO. Gently, boy! That name belongs alone to the father of my
betrothed bride. Dost thou know the house of Verrina?
BERTHA. I should think so.
BOURGOGNINO (eagerly). And knowest thou his lovely daughter?
BERTHA. Her name is Bertha.
BOURGOGNINO. Go, quickly! Carry her this ring. Say it shall be our
wedding-ring; and tell her the blue crest fights bravely. Now farewell!
I must hasten yonder. The danger is not yet over. (Some houses are seen
on fire.)
BERTHA (in a soft voice). Scipio!
BOURGOGNINO (struck with astonishment). By my sword! I know that voice.
BERTHA (falling upon his neck). By my heart! I am well known here.
BOURGOGNINO. Bertha! (Alarm-bells sound in the suburbs--a tumult--
BOURGOGNINO and BERTHA embrace, and are lost in the crowd.) [NOTE]
[NOTE] In lieu of this scene Schiller substituted the following, during
his stay at Leipzig in 1786, for the use of the theatre there:--
A subterranean vault, lighted by a single lamp. The background
remains quite dark. BERTHA is discovered sitting on a stone in
the foreground; a black veil covers her face. After a pause she
rises and walks to and fro.
BERTHA. Still no sound? No sign of human footstep? No approach of
my deliverers. Horrible suspense! Fearful and hopeless as that of
one buried alive beneath the sod of the churchyard. And for what dost
thou sit, poor deceived one? An inviolable oath immures thee in this
dungeon. Gianettino Doria must fall, and Genoa be free, or Bertha left
to pine away her miserable existence, such was my father's oath.
Fearful prison-house to which there is no key but the death-groan of a
well-guarded tyrant. (Looking round the vault) How awful is this
stillness! terrible as the silence of the grave! How fearfully the
darkness creeps from yonder vaults! My lamp, too, is flickering in its
socket. (Walking up and down energetically). Oh, come, come, my
beloved, 'tis horrible to die here. (A pause--then she starts up and
rushes to and fro wringing her hands to deep despair.) He has forsaken
me. He has broken his oath. He has forgotten his Bertha. The living
think not of the dead, and this vault is my tomb. Hope no more, wretched
one. Hope flourishes only where the eye of the Almighty pervades--into
this dungeon it never penetrates. (Again a pause; she becomes still more
alarmed.)
Or have my deliverers perished? Perchance the bold attempt has failed,
the danger has overwhelmed the courageous youth. O unhappy Bertha,
perhaps even now their ghosts are wandering through these vaults, and
weep over thy vain hopes. (Shuddering.) Heavens! if they are dead I am
irrevocably lost, irrevocably abandoned to a horrible death. (Leans
against the wall for support. After a pause she continues despondingly.)
And if my beloved one still lives--if he should return to keep his word,
to fetch his bride away in triumph, and find all here lonely and silent,
and the inanimate corpse no longer sensible to his transports--when his
burning kisses shall in vain endeavor to restore the life which has fled
from these lips, and his tears flow on me hopelessly--when my father
shall sink weeping on the body of his daughter, and the voice of his
lamentations echo through the regions of my prison-house. Oh, then
repeat not to them my complaints, ye walls! Tell them that I suffered
like a heroine, and that my last sigh was forgiveness. (Sinks exhausted
on the stone--pause--a confused sound of drums and bells is heard from
behind the stage in various directions. BERTHA starts to her feet.)
Hark! what means this? Am I awake, or do I dream? How dreadfully the
bells clang! That is no sound of ringing to prayers. (The noise comes
nearer and increases; she rushes to and fro alarmed.) Louder and louder
yet! Heavens, they are alarm-bells! they are alarm-bells! Have enemies
surprised the city? Is Genoa in flames? A wild and dreadful din, like
the trampling of myriads! What's that? (Someone knocks loudly at the
door.) They cone this way--they draw the bolts--(rushing towards the
background). Men! Men! Liberty! Deliverance! (BOURGOGNINO enters
hastily with a drawn sword, followed by several torch-bearers.)
BOURGOGNINO (calling out loudly). Thou art free, Bertha! The tyrant is
dead! This sword has passed through his heart.
BERTHA (running into his arms). My deliverer! my angel!
BOURGOGNINO. Dost thou hear the alarm-bells, and the roll of the drums?
Fiesco has conquered, Genoa is free, and thy father's curse annihilated.
BERTHA. Oh, heavens! This dreadful uproar, these alarm-bells, then,
were for me?
BOURGOGNINO. For thee, Bertha! They are our marriage chimes. Leave
this horrid dungeon and follow me to the altar.
BERTHA. To the altar, Bourgognino? Now, at this midnight hour? While
this awful tumult is raging as though the whole globe were crushing to
atoms! (VERRINA enters unperceived, and remains standing silently at the
entrance.)
BOURGOGNINO. In this beautiful, glorious night, in which all Genoa
celebrates its freedom, as a bond of love this sword, still dyed with the
tyrant's blood, shall be my wedding gear--this hand, still warm from the
heroic deed, the priest shall lay in thine. Fear not my love, and follow
me to the church. (VERRINA approaches, steps between both, and embraces
them.)
VERRINA. God bless you, my children!
BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (falling at his feet). O my father!
VERRINA (lays his hands on them both--a pause--then he turns solemnly to
BOURGOGNINO). Never forget how dearly thou hast won her. Never forget
that thy marriage dates from the day of Genoa's freedom. (Turning
towards BERTHA in a grave and dignified manner.) Thou art the daughter
of Verrina, and 'twas thy husband slew the tyrant. (After a pause he
beckons them to rise, and says, with suppressed emotion.) The priest
awaits you.
BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (together). How, my father? Will you not
accompany us thither?
VERRINA (very gravely). A terrible duty calls me elsewhere; my prayers
shall accompany you. (Drums and trumpets, intermixed with acclamations,
are heard in the distance.) What means this shouting?
BOURGOGNINO. They are proclaiming Fiesco duke. The populace adore him,
and with eager acclamations brought him the purple; the nobles looked on
with dismay, but dared not refuse their sanction.
VERRINA (laughs bitterly). You see, my son, I must away with speed to be
the first to tender the oath of allegiance to the new monarch.
BOURGOGNINO (holds him back alarmed). What is your purpose! I'll go
with you.
BERTHA (hanging anxiously on BOURGOGNINO). Heavens! what means this,
Bourgognino? What is my father meditating?
VERRINA. My son, I have converted all my possessions into gold, and have
conveyed it on board thy ship. Take thy bride and embark without delay.
Perhaps I shall soon follow, perhaps never. Hasten to Marseilles, and
(embracing them with emotion) God be with you.
BOURGOGNINO (determinedly). Verrina, I must stay; the danger is not yet
past.
VERRINA (leading him towards BERTHA). Look to thy bride, thou proud,
insatiable one. Thou hast despatched thy tyrant, leave me to deal with
mine. [Exeunt.
SCENE IX.
FIESCO and ZIBO from different sides. Attendants.
FIESCO (in great anger). Who set fire to those houses?
ZIBO. The citadel is taken.
FIESCO. Who set those houses on fire?
ZIBO (to the attendants). Despatch a guard to apprehend the villains.
(Some soldiers go.)
FIESCO. Will they make me an incendiary? Hasten with the engines!
(Attendants go.) But are you sure that Gianettino has fallen?
ZIBO. So they say.
FIESCO (wildly). They say so only! Who say? Declare, upon your honor,
has he escaped?
ZIBO (doubtfully). If I may trust my eyes against the assertion of a
nobleman, then--Gianettino lives.
FIESCO (starting). Zibo, your eyes may cost your head----
ZIBO. 'Tis but eight minutes since I saw him in the crowd dressed in his
scarlet cloak and yellow plume.
FIESCO (wildly). Heaven and hell! Zibo! Bourgognino shall answer for
it with his head. Hasten, Zibo! secure the barriers. Sink all the boats
that he may not escape by sea. This diamond, Zibo--the richest in all
Italy--this diamond shall reward the man who brings me tidings of
Gianettino's death. (ZIBO hastens away.) Fly, Zibo!
SCENE X.
FIESCO, SACCO, the MOOR, SOLDIERS.
SACCO. We found this Moor throwing a lighted match into the convent of
the Jesuits.
FIESCO. Thy treachery was overlooked when it concerned myself alone.
The halter awaits the incendiary. Take him away and hang him at the
church-door.
MOOR. Plague on it! that's an awkward piece of business. Is there no
way out of it?
FIESCO. No.
MOOR. Send me awhile to the galleys----
FIESCO (beckoning to the attendants). To the gallows.
MOOR (impudently). Then I'll turn Christian.
FIESCO. The church refuses the dregs of infidelity.
MOOR (in an insinuating manner). At least send me drunk into eternity!
FIESCO. Sober.
MOOR. Don't hang me up, however, beside a Christian church!
FIESCO. A man of honor keeps his word. I promised thee a gallows of
thy own.
SACCO. No more prating, heathen! we've business of more consequence.
MOOR. But, stay! Perhaps the rope may break?
FIESCO (to SACCO). Let it be double.
MOOR. Well, if it must be so, the devil may make ready for an extra
guest. (Soldiers lead him off, and hang him at a little distance.)
SCENE XI.
FIESCO--LEONORA appearing at a distance, in the scarlet
cloak of GIANETTINO.
FIESCO (perceiving her, rushes forward--then stops). Do I know that
crest and mantle? (Rushes on furiously.) Yes, I know them. (Runs her
through with his sword.) If thou hast three lives then rise again.
(LEONORA falls with a hollow groan, the march of victory is heard, with
drums, horns, and hautboys.)
SCENE XII.
FIESCO, CALCAGNO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO:
SOLDIERS, with drums and colors.
FIESCO (advancing towards them in triumph). Genoese--the die is cast.
Here lies the viper of my soul, the abhorred food of my resentment. Lift
high your swords! Gianettino is no more!
CALCAGNO. And I come to inform you that two-thirds of Genoa have
declared for our party, and swear obedience to Fiesco's standard.
ZIBO. By me Verrina sends his greeting to you from the admiral's galley,
with the dominion of the sea.
ZENTURIONE. By me the governor of the city sends his keys and staff of
office.
SACCO. And in me (kneeling) the less and greater senate of the republic
kneel down before their master, and supplicate for favor and protection.
CALCAGNO. Let me be the first to welcome the illustrious conquerer
within the walls. Bow your colors! Hail, Duke of Genoa!
ALL (taking off their hats). Hail! Hail, Duke of Genoa! (March of
triumph--FIESCO stands the whole time with his head sunk upon his breast,
in a meditating posture.)
CALCAGNO. The people and the senate wait to see their gracious sovereign
invested in the robes of dignity. Great duke, permit us to follow you in
triumph to the senate-house.
FIESCO. First allow me to listen to the dictates of my heart. I was
obliged to leave a most dear person in anxious apprehension--a person who
will share with me the glory of this night. (To the company.) Will you,
my friends, attend me to your amiable duchess! (Going.)
CALCAGNO. Shall this murderous villain lie here, and hide his infamy in
obscurity?
ZENTURIONE. Plant his head upon a halberd.
ZIBO. Let his mangled carcass sweep the streets! (They hold lights
toward the body.)
CALCAGNO (terrified and in a low voice). Look, Genoese! By heavens,
this is not the face of Gianettino! (All look at the body.)
FIESCO (fixes his eyes upon it with an eager look, which he withdraws
slowly--then, with convulsive wildness, exclaims). No! ye devils! That
is not the face of Gianettino--Oh, malicious fiend! Genoa is mine, say
you? Mine? (Rushing forward with a dreadful shriek.) Oh, trickery of
hell! It is my wife! (He sinks to the ground in agony--The CONSPIRATORS
stand around in groups, shuddering--a dead silence.)
FIESCO (raising himself exhausted--in a faint voice). But tell me truly,
Genoese, have I indeed slain my wife? I conjure you look not so ghastly
upon this illusion! Heaven be praised! there are fates which man has not
to fear, because he is but man. This must be one of them. He who is
denied the joys of heaven can scarce be doomed to bear the pains of hell.
This dread infliction would be even more. God be praised! It must be
so. And this is naught but the chimera of a disordered brain.
SCENE XIII.
The former--ARABELLA enters weeping.
ARABELLA. Let them kill me! What have I now to dread? Have pity on me,
Genoese. 'Twas here I left my dearest mistress, and nowhere can I find
her.
FIESCO (approaching her--with a low and trembling voice.) Was Leonora
thy mistress?
ARABELLA (with pleasure). Are you there, my most gracious and dear good
lord? Be not displeased with us. We could no longer restrain her.
FIESCO (in alarm). Restrain her! Wretch! From what?
ARABELLA. From following----
FIESCO (violently). Ha! From following what?
ARABELLA. The tumult----
FIESCO. What was her dress?
ARABELLA. A Scarlet mantle.
FIESCO (in a transport of rage). Get thee to the abyss of hell! The
mantle?
ARABELLA. Lay here upon the ground.
SOME OF THE CONSPIRATORS (talking apart). 'Twas here that Gianettino was
killed.
FIESCO (ready to faint, to ARABELLA). Thy mistress is found--(ARABELLA
advances anxiously--FIESCO casts his eyes round the whole circle--then,
with a faltering voice)--'Tis true--'Tis true--And I am the instrument of
this horrid deed. (Madly.) Back! back! ye human forms! Oh! (gnashing
his teeth wildly, and looking up toward heaven) had I but this created
orb between my teeth--I feel as though I could tear the universe to
fragments, till nature's face was hideous as the pain that gnaws my soul!
(To the others, that stand around, trembling.) See, how they stand
aghast there, miserable creatures! blessing themselves and rejoicing that
they are not as I am. I alone feel the blow. (Wildly.) I!--why I? Why
not these as well? Why is my sorrow denied the balm of being shared with
others?
CALCAGNO (timidly). Most gracious duke!
FIESCO (rushes on hint with a look of fiendlike joy). Ha! Welcome!
Here, Heaven be thanked, is one whom the same thunderbolt has struck!
(Pressing CALCAGNO furiously in his arms.) Brother of my sorrows!
Welcome to your share of destruction! She's dead. Didst thou not also
love her? (Forcing him toward the dead body.) Behold her and despair!
She's dead. (Fixing his eyes earnestly on one part of the stage.) Oh,
that I could stand upon the brink of the infernal gulf, and view below
all hell's variety of torments!--could hear the horrid shrieks of damned
souls! (Approaching the body, trembling.) Here lies my murdered wife.
Nay--that says too little--the wife that I myself have murdered. Oh!
'Tis the cunningest of hell's devices--first I was allured to the topmost
pinnacle of joy--to the very threshold of heaven--then--in an instant
hurled headlong down--and then--oh that my breath could send a pestilence
to hell! And then was made the murderer of my wife--fool that I was to
trust two erring eyes? Oh, fiends, this is your masterpiece of torture!
(All the CONSPIRATORS lean upon their swords much afflicted--a pause.)
FIESCO (exhausted, and looking mournfully round the circle). Yes, by
heavens! They who feared not to draw their swords against their prince
are shedding tears! (With dejection.) Speak! Do you weep over this
havoc caused by treacherous death, or do you bewail the fall of your
leader's spirit? (Turning toward the dead body in an affecting posture.)
Where iron-hearted warriors were melted into tears, Fiesco uttered only
imprecations of despair. (Kneels down, weeping, by her side.) Pardon
me, Leonora--the decrees of heaven are immutable; they yield not to
mortal anger. (With a melancholy tenderness.) O Leonora, years ago my
fancy painted that triumphant hour when I should present thee to Genoa as
her duchess--methought I saw the lovely blush that tinged thy modest
cheek--the timid heaving of thy beauteous bosom beneath the snowy gauze--
I heard the gentle murmurs of thy voice, which died away in rapture!
(More lively.) Ah, how intoxicating to my soul were the proud
acclamations of the people! How did my love rejoice to see its triumph
marked in the sinking envy of its rivals! Leonora! The hour which
should confirm these hopes is come. Thy Fiesco is Duke of Genoa--and yet
the meanest beggar would not exchange his poverty for my greatness and my
sufferings. (More affected.) He has a wife to share his troubles--with
whom can I share my splendor? (He weeps bitterly, and throws himself on
the dead body. Compassion marked upon the countenances of all.)
CALCAGNO. She was, indeed, a most excellent lady.
ZIBO. This event must be concealed from the people. 'Twould damp the
ardor of our party and elevate the enemy with hope.
FIESCO (rises, collected and firm). Here me, Genoese! Providence, if
rightly I interpret its designs, has struck me with this wound only to
try my heart for my approaching greatness. The blow was terrible. Since
I have felt it, I fear neither torture nor pleasure. Come! Genoa, you
say, awaits me--I will give to Genoa a prince more truly great than
Europe ever saw. Away!--for this unhappy princess I will prepare a
funeral so splendid that life shall lose its charms, and cold corruption
glitter like a bride. Follow your duke!
[Exeunt, with music and colors.
SCENE XIV.
ANDREAS, LOMELLINO.
ANDREAS. Yonder they go, with shouts of exultation.
LOMELLINO. They are intoxicated with success. The gates are deserted
and all are hastening toward the senate-house.
ANDREAS. It was my nephew only whom Genoa could not brook. My nephew is
no more. Hear, Lomellino!
LOMELLINO. What, duke--still--do you still hope?
ANDREAS (sternly). And dost thou tremble for my life, and mock me with
the name of duke the while thou wouldst forbid me hope.
LOMELLINO. My gracious lord, a raging nation lies in Fiesco's scale;
what counterpoise in yours?
ANDREAS (with dignity and animation). Heaven!
LOMELLINO (shrugging up his shoulders). The times are past, my lord,
when armies fought under the guidance of celestial leaders. Since
gunpowder was invented angels have ceased to fight.
ANDREAS. Wretch that thou art! Wouldst thou bereave an aged head of its
support, its God. (In an earnest and commanding tone.) Go! Make it
known throughout Genoa that Andreas Doria is still alive. Say that
Andreas entreats the citizens, his children, not to drive him, in his old
age, to dwell with foreigners, who ne'er would pardon the exalted state
to which he raised his country. Say this--and further say, Andreas begs
but so much ground within his fatherland as may contain his bones.
LOMELLINO. I obey; but I despair of success. (Going.)
ANDREAS. Stay; take with thee this snowy lock, and say it was the last
upon my head. Say that I plucked it on that night when ungrateful Genoa
tore itself from my heart. For fourscore years it hung upon my temples,
and now has left my bald head, chilled with the winter of age. The lock
is weak, but 'twill suffice to fasten the purple on that young usurper.
[Exit--LOMELLINO hastens into another street--Shouts are heard,
with trumpets and drums.
SCENE XV.
VERRINA (coming from the harbor), BERTHA, and BOURGOGNINO.
VERRINA. What mean these shouts?
BOURGOGNINO. They proclaim Fiesco duke.
BERTHA (to BOURGOGNINO, timidly). Scipio! My father's looks are
dreadful----
VERRINA. Leave me, my children. O Genoa! Genoa!
BOURGOGNINO. The populace adore him, and with transports hailed him as
their duke. The nobles looked on with horror, but dared not oppose it.
VERRINA. My son, I have converted all my possessions into gold, and
conveyed it on board thy vessel. Take thy wife with thee, and set sail
immediately. Perhaps I soon shall follow. Perhaps--never more. Hasten
to Marseilles, and--(embracing them mournfully and with energy)--may the
Almighty guide you. [Exit hastily.
BERTHA. I beseech thee, say, on what dreadful project does my father
brood?
BOURGOGNINO. Didst thou understand thy father?
BERTHA. He bade us fly. Merciful Heaven! Fly on our bridal day!
BOURGOGNINO. He spoke it, and we must obey.
[Exeunt towards the harbor.
SCENE XVI.
VERRINA, and FIESCO (in the ducal habit), meeting.
FIESCO. Welcome, Verrina! I was anxious to meet thee.
VERRINA. I also sought Fiesco.
FIESCO. Does Verrina perceive no alteration in his friend?
VERRINA (with reserve). I wish for none.
FIESCO. But do you see none?
VERRINA (without looking at him). I should hope not!
FIESCO. I ask, do you perceive none?
VERRINA (after a slight glance). None!
FIESCO. See, then, how idle is the observation that power makes a
tyrant. Since we parted I am become the Duke of Genoa, and yet Verrina
(pressing him to his bosom) finds my embrace still glowing as before.
VERRINA. I grieve that I must return it coldly. The sight of majesty
falls like a keen-edged weapon, cutting off all affection between the
duke and me. To John Louis Fiesco belonged the territory of my heart.
Now he has conquered Genoa I resume that poor possession.
FIESCO (with astonishment). Forbid it, Heaven! That price is too
enormous even for a dukedom.
VEERINA (muttering). Hum! Is liberty then out of fashion, that
republics are so lightly thrown away upon the first that offers himself?
FIESCO (bites his lips). Verrina, say this to no one but Fiesco.
VERRINA. Oh, of course! Great indeed must be that mind which can hear
the voice of truth without offence. But alas! the cunning gamester has
failed in one single card. He calculated all the chances of envious
opposition, but unfortunately overlooked one antagonist--the patriot--
(very significantly). But perhaps the oppressor of liberty has still in
store some scheme for banishing patriotic virtue. I swear by the living
God that posterity shall sooner collect my mouldering bones from off the
wheel than from a sepulchre within that country which is governed by a
duke.
FIESCO (taking him tenderly by the hand). Not even when that duke is thy
brother? Not if he should make his principality the treasury of that
benevolence which was restrained by his domestic poverty? Not even then,
Verrina.
VERRINA. No--not even then! We pardon not the robber because he made
gifts of his plunder, nor does such generosity suit Verrina. I might
permit my fellow-citizens to confer a benefit on me--because I should
hope some day to make them an adequate return. That which a prince
confers is bounty; but bounty undeserved I would receive alone from God.
FIESCO (angrily). It were as easy to tear Italy from the bosom of the
ocean as to shake this stubborn enthusiast from his prejudices.
VERRINA. Well mayst thou talk of tearing: thou hast torn the republic
from Doria, as a lamb from the jaws of the wolf, only that thou mightest
devour it thyself. But enough of this--just tell me, duke, what crime
the poor wretch committed whom you ordered to be hung up at the church of
the Jesuits?
FIESCO. The scoundrel set fire to the city.
VERRINA. Yet the scoundrel left the laws untouched.
FIESCO. Verrina presumes upon my friendship.
VERRINA. Away with friendship! I tell thee I no longer love thee. I
swear to thee that I hate thee--hate thee like the serpent of Paradise,
that first disturbed the happiness of creation, and brought upon mankind
unbounded sorrow. Hear me, Fiesco, I speak to thee not as a subject to
his master, not as a friend to his friend, but as man to man--(with
bitterness and vehemence). Thou hast committed a crime against the
majesty of the eternal God in permitting virtue to lead thy hands to
wickedness, and in suffering the patriots of Genoa to violate their
country. Fiesco, had thy villany deceived me also!--Fiesco, by all the
horrors of eternity! with my own hands I would have strangled myself, and
on thy head spurted the venom of my departing soul. A princely crime may
break the scale of human justice, but thou hast insulted heaven, and the
last judgment will decide the cause. (Fiesco remains speechless, looking
at him with astonishment.) Do not attempt to answer me. Now we have
done. (After walking several times up and down.) Duke of Genoa, in the
vessels of yesterday's tyrant, I have seen a miserable race who, at every
stroke of their oars, ruminate upon their long-expiated guilt, and weep
their tears into the ocean, which, like a rich man, is too proud to count
them. A good prince begins his reign with acts of mercy. Wilt thou
release the galley-slaves?
FIESCO (sharply). Let them be the first fruits of my tyranny. Go, and
announce to them their deliverance.
VERRINA. You will enjoy but half the pleasure unless you see their
happiness. Perform this deed thyself. The great are seldom witnesses of
the evils which they cause. And shall they, too, do good by stealth and
in obscurity? Methinks the duke is not too great to sympathize with a
beggar.
FIESCO. Man, thou art dreadful; yet I know not why I must follow thee.
(Both go toward the sea.)
VERRINA (stops, much affected). But once more embrace me, Fiesco. Here
is no one by to see Verrina weep, or to behold a prince give way to
feeling--(he embraces him eagerly). Surely never beat two greater hearts
together--we loved each other so fraternally--(weeping violently on
Fiasco's neck). Fiesco! Fiesco! Thou makest a void in my bosom which
all mankind, thrice numbered, could not fill up.
FIESCO (much affected). Be still, my friend.
VERRINA. Throw off this hateful purple, and I will be so. The first
prince was a murderer, and assumed the purple to hide the bloody stains
of his detested deeds. Hear me, Fiesco! I am a warrior, little used to
weeping--Fiesco--these are my first tears--throw off this purple!
FIESCO. Peace.
VERRINA (more vehemently). Fiesco, place on the one side all the honors
of this great globe, on the other all its tortures; they should not make
me kneel before a mortal--Fiesco (falling on his knee), this is the first
bending of my knee--throw off this purple!
FIESCO. Rise, and no longer irritate me!
VERRINA (in a determined tone). I rise then, and will no longer irritate
thee. (They stand on a board leading to a galley.) The prince must take
precedence.
