Fiesco Page 3

  FIESCO. In full earnest-and I'll pay thee yearly a 'thousand sequins.

  MOOR. Done, Lavagna! I am yours. Away with common business-employ me in whate'er you will. I'll be your setter or your bloodhound-your fox, your viper-your pimp, or executioner. I'm prepared for all commissions -except honest ones; in those I am as stupid as a block.

  FIESCO. Fear not! I would not set the wolf to guard the lamb. Go thou through Genoa to-morrow and sound the temper of the people. Narrowly inquire what they think of the government, and of the house of Doria- what of me, my debaucheries, and romantic passion. Flood their brains with wine, until the sentiments of the heart flow over. Here's money- lavish it among the manufacturers--

  MOOR. Sir!

  FIESCO. Be not afraid-no honesty is in the case. Go, collect what help thou canst. To-morrow I will hear thy report.

  [Exit.

  MOOR (following). Rely on me. It is now four o'clock in the morning, by eight to-morrow you shall hear as much news as twice seventy spies can furnish.

  [Exit.

  SCENE X.-An apartment in the house of VERRINA.

  BERTHA on a couch, supporting her head on her hand-

  VERRINA enters with a look of dejection.

  BERTHA (starts up frightened). Heavens! He is here!

  VERRINA (stops, looking at her with surprise). My daughter affrighted at her father!

  BERTHA. Fly! fly! or let me fly! Father, your sight is dreadful to me!

  VERRINA. Dreadful to my child!-my only child!

  BERTHA (looking at him mournfully). Oh! you must seek another. I am no more your daughter.

  VERRINA. What, does my tenderness distress you?

  BERTHA. It weighs me down to the earth.

  VERRINA. How, my daughter! do you receive me thus? Formerly, when I came home, my heart o'erburdened with sorrows, my Bertha came running towards me, and chased them away with her smiles. Come, embrace me, my daughter! Reclined upon thy glowing bosom, my heart, when chilled by the sufferings of my country, shall grow warm again. Oh, my child! this day I have closed my account with the joys of this world, and thou alone (sighing heavily) remainest to me.

  BERTHA (casting a long and earnest look at him). Wretched father!

  VERRINA (eagerly embracing her). Bertha! my only child! Bertha! my last remaining hope! The liberty of Genoa is lost-Fiesco is lost-and thou (pressing her more strongly, with a look of despair) mayest be dishonored!

  BERTHA (tearing herself from him). Great God! You know, then--

  VERRINA (trembling). What?

  BERTHA. My virgin honor--

  VERRINA (raging). What?

  BERTHA. Last night--

  VERRINA (furiously.) Speak! What!

  BERTHA. Force. (Sinks down upon the side of the sofa.)

  VERRINA (after a long pause, with a hollow voice). One word more, my daughter-thy last! Who was it?

  BERTHA. Alas, what an angry deathlike paleness! Great God, support me! How his words falter! His whole frame trembles!

  VERRINA. I cannot comprehend it. Tell me, my daughter-who?

  BERTHA. Compose yourself, my best, my dearest father!

  VERRINA (ready to faint). For God's sake-who?

  BERTHA. A mask--

  VERRINA (steps back, thoughtfully). No! That cannot be!-the thought is idle-(smiling to himself ). What a fool am I to think that all the poison of my life can flow but from one source! (Firmly addressing himself to BERTHA.) What was his stature, less than mine or taller?

  BERTHA. Taller.

  VERRINA (eagerly). His hair? Black, and curled?

  BERTHA. As black as jet and curled?

  VERRINA (retiring from her in great emotion). O God! my brain ! my brain! His voice?

  BERTHA. Was deep and harsh.

  VERRINA (impetuously). What color was-No! I'll hear no more! 'His cloak! What color?

  BERTHA. I think his cloak was green.

  VERRINA (covering his face with his hands, falls on the couch). No more. This can be nothing but a dream!

  BERTHA (wringing her hands). Merciful heaven! Is this my father?

  VERRINA (after a pause, with a forced smile). Right! It serves thee right-coward Verrina! The villain broke into the sanctuary of the laws. This did not rouse thee. Then he violated the sanctuary of thy honor (starting up). Quick! Nicolo! Bring balls and powder-but stay-my sword were better. (To BERTHA.) Say thy prayers! Ah! what am I going to do?

  BERTHA. Father, you make me tremble--

  VERRINA. Come, sit by me, Bertha! (in a solemn manner.) Tell me, Bertha, what did that hoary-headed Roman, when his daughter-like you- how can I speak it! fell a prey to ignominy? Tell me, Bertha, what said Virginius to his dishonored daughter?

  BERTHA (shuddering). I know not.

  VERRINA. Foolish girl! He said nothing-but (rising hastily and snatching up a sword) he seized an instrument of death--

  BERTHA (terrified, rushes into his arms). Great God! What would you do, my father?

  VERRINA (throwing away the sword). No! There is still justice left in Genoa.

  SCENE XI.

  SACCO, CALCAGNO, the former.

  CALCAGNO. Verrina, quick! prepare! to-day begins the election week of the republic. Let us early to the Senate House to choose the new senators. The streets are full of people, you will undoubtedly accompany us (ironically) to behold the triumph of our liberty.

  SACCO (to CALCAGNO). But what do I see? A naked sword! Verrina staring wildly! Bertha in tears!

  CALCAGNO. By heavens, it is so. Sacco! some strange event has happened here.

  VERRINA (placing two chairs). Be seated.

  SACCO. Your looks, Verrina, fill us with apprehension.

  CALCAGNO. I never saw you thus before-Bertha is in tears, or your grief would have seemed to presage our country's ruin.

  VERRINA. Ruin! Pray sit down. (They both seat themselves.)

  CALCAGNO. My friend, I conjure you--

  VERRINA. Listen to me.

  CALCAGNO (to SACCO). I have sad misgivings.

  VERRINA. Genoese! you both know the antiquity of my family. Your ancestors were vassals to my own. My forefathers fought the battles of the state, their wives were patterns of virtue. Honor was our sole inheritance, descending unspotted from the father to the son. Can any one deny it?

  SACCO. No.

  CALCAGNO. No one, by the God of heaven!

  VERRINA. I am the last of my family. My wife has long been dead. This daughter is all she left me. You are witnesses, my friends, how I have brought her up. Can anyone accuse me of neglect?

  CALCAGNO. No. Your daughter is a bright example to her sex.

  VERRINA. I am old, my friends. On this one daughter all my hopes were placed. Should I lose her, my race becomes extinct. (After a pause, with a solemn voice). I have lost her. My family is dishonored.

  SACCO and CALCAGNO. Forbid it, heaven! (BERTHA on the couch, appears much affected.)

  VERRINA. No. Despair not, daughter! These men are just and brave. If they feel thy wrongs they will expiate them with blood. Be not astonished, friends! He who tramples upon Genoa may easily overcome a helpless female.

  SACCO and CALCAGNO (starting up with emotion). Gianettino Doria!

  BERTHA (with a shriek, seeing BOURGOGNINO enter). Cover me, walls, beneath your ruins! My Scipio!

  SCENE XII.

  BOURGOGNINO-the former.

  BOURGOGNINO (with ardor). Rejoice, my love! I bring good tidings. Noble Verrina, my heaven now depends upon a word from you. I have long loved your daughter, but never dared to ask her hand, because my whole fortune was intrusted to the treacherous sea. My ships have just now reached the harbor laden with valuable cargoes. Now I am rich. Bestow your Bertha on me-I will make her happy. (BERTHA hides her face-a profound pause.)

  VERRINA. What, youth! Wouldst thou mix thy heart's pure tide with a polluted stream?

  BOURGOGNINO (clasps his hand to his sword, but suddenly draws it back). 'Twas her father said it.

  VERRINA. No-every rascal in Italy will s
ay it. Are you contented with the leavings of other men's repasts?

  BOURGOGNINO. Old man, do not make me desperate.

  CALCAGNO. Bourgognino! he speaks the truth.

  BOURGOGNINO (enraged, rushing towards BERTHA). The truth? Has the girl then mocked me?

  CALCAGNO. No! no! Bourgognino. The girl is spotless as an angel.

  BOURGOGNINO (astonished). By my soul's happiness, I comprehend it not! Spotless, yet dishonored! They look in silence on each other. Some horrid crime hangs on their trembling tongues. I conjure you, friends, mock not thus my reason. Is she pure? Is she truly so? Who answers for her?

  VERRINA. My child is guiltless.

  BOURGOGNINO. What! Violence! (Snatches the sword from the ground.) Be all the sins of earth upon my bead if I avenge her not! Where is the spoiler?

  VERRINA. Seek him in the plunderer of Genoa! (BOURGOGNINO struck with astonishment-VERRINA walks up and down the room in deep thought, then stops.) If rightly I can trace thy counsels, O eternal Providence! it is thy will to make my daughter the instrument of Genoa's deliverance. (Approaching her slowly, takes the mourning crape from his arm, and proceeds in a solemn manner.) Before the heart's blood of Doria shall wash away this foul stain from thy honor no beam of daylight shall shine upon these cheeks. Till then (throwing the crape over her) be blind! (A pause-the rest look upon him with silent astonishment; he continues solemnly, his hand upon BERTHA'S head.) Cursed be the air that shall breathe on thee! Cursed the sleep that shall refresh thee! Cursed every human step that shall come to sooth thy misery! Down, into the lowest vault beneath my house! There whine, and cry aloud! (pausing with inward horror.) Be thy life painful as the tortures of the writhing worm- agonizing as the stubborn conflict between existence and annihilation. This curse lie on thee till Gianettino shall have heaved forth his dying breath. If he escape his punishment, then mayest thou drag thy load of misery throughout the endless circle of eternity!

  [A deep silence-horror is marked on the countenances of all

  present. VERRINA casts a scrutinizing look at each of them.

  BOURGOGNINO. Inhuman father! What is it thou hast done? Why pour forth this horrible and monstrous curse against thy guiltless daughter?

  VERRINA. Youth, thou say'st true!-it is most horrible. Now who among you will stand forth and prate still of patience and delay? My daughter's fate is linked with that of Genoa. I sacrifice the affections of a father to the duties of a citizen. Who among us is so much a coward as to hesitate in the salvation of his country, when this poor guiltless being must pay for his timidity with endless sufferings? By heavens, 'twas not a madman's speech! I have sworn an oath, and till Doria lie in the agonies of death I will show no mercy to my child. No-not though, like an executioner, I should invent unheard-of torments for her, or with my own hands rend her innocent frame piecemeal on the barbarous rack. You shudder-you stare at me with ghastly faces. Once more, Scipio-I keep her as a hostage for the tyrant's death. Upon this precious thread do I suspend thy duty, my own, and yours (to SACCO and CALCAGNO). The tyrant of Genoa falls, or Bertha must despair-I retract not.

  BOURGOGNINO (throwing himself at BERTHA'S feet). He shall fall-shall fall a victim to Genoa. I will as surely sheathe this sword in Doria's heart as upon thy lips I will imprint the bridal kiss. (Rises.)

  VERRINA. Ye couple, the first that ever owed their union to the Furies, join hands! Thou wilt sheathe thy sword in Doria's heart? Take her! she is thine!

  CALCAGNO (kneeling). Here kneels another citizen of Genoa and lays his faithful sword before the feet of innocence. As surely may Calcagno find the way to heaven as this steel shall find its way to Gianettino's heart! (Rises.)

  SACCO (kneeling). Last, but not less determined, Raffaelle Sacco kneels. If this bright steel unlock not the prison doors of Bertha, mayest thou, my Saviour, shut thine ear against my dying prayers! (Rises.)

  VERRINA (with a calm look). Through me Genoa thanks you. Now go, my daughter; rejoice to be the mighty sacrifice for thy country!

  BOURGOGNINO (embracing her as she is departing). Go! confide in God-and Bourgognino. The same day shall give freedom to Bertha and to Genoa.

  [BERTHA retires.

  SCENE XIII.

  The former-without BERTHA.

  CALCAGNO. Genoese, before we take another step, one word--

  VERRINA. I guess what you would say.

  CALCAGNO. Will four patriots alone be sufficient to destroy this mighty hydra? Shall we not stir up the people to rebellion, or draw the nobles in to join our party?

  VERRINA. I understand you. Now hear my advice; I have long engaged a painter who has been exerting all his skill to paint the fall of Appius Claudius. Fiesco is an adorer of the arts, and soon warmed by ennobling scenes. We will send this picture to his house, and will be present when he contemplates it. Perhaps the sight may rouse his dormant spirit. Perhaps--

  BOURGOGNINO. No more of him. Increase the danger, not the sharers in it. So valor bids. Long have I felt a something within my breast that nothing would appease. What 'twas now bursts upon me (springing up with enthusiasm); 'twas a tyrant!

  [The scene closes.

  ACT II.

  SCENE I.-An Ante-chamber in the Palace of FIESCO.

  LEONORA and ARABELLA.

  ARABELLA. No, no, you were mistaken: your eyes were blinded by jealousy.

  LEONORA. It was Julia to the life. Seek not to persuade me otherwise. My picture was suspended by a sky-blue ribbon: this was flame-colored. My doom is fixed irrevocably.

  SCENE II.

  The former and JULIA.

  JULIA (entering in an affected manner). The Count offered me his palace to see the procession to the senate-house. The time will be tedious. You will entertain me, madam, while the chocolate is preparing.

  [ARABELLA goes out, and returns soon afterwards.

  LEONORA. Do you wish that I should invite company to meet you?

  JULIA. Ridiculous! As if I should come hither in search of company. You will amuse me, madam (walking up and down, and admiring herself ), if you are able, madam. At any rate I shall lose nothing.

  ARABELLA (sarcastically). Your splendid dress alone will be the loser. Only think how cruel it is to deprive the eager eyes of our young beaux of such a treat! Ah! and the glitter of your sparkling jewels on which it almost wounds the sight to look. Good heavens! You seem to have plundered the whole ocean of its pearls.

  JULIA (before a glass). You are not accustomed to such things, miss! But hark ye, miss! pray has your mistress also hired your tongue? Madam, 'tis fine, indeed, to permit your domestics thus to address your guests.

  LEONORA. 'Tis my misfortune, signora, that my want of spirits prevents me from enjoying the pleasure of your company.

  JULIA. An ugly fault that, to be dull and spiritless. Be active, sprightly, witty! Yours is not the way to attach your husband to you.

  LEONORA. I know but one way, Countess. Let yours ever be the sympathetic medium.

  JULIA (pretending not to mind her). How you dress, madam! For shame! Pay more attention to your personal appearance! Have recourse to art where nature has been unkind. Put a little paint on those cheeks, which look so pale with spleen. Poor creature! Your puny face will never find a bidder.

  LEONORA (in a lively manner to ARABELLA). Congratulate me, girl. It is impossible I can have lost my Fiesco; or, if I have, the loss must be but trifling. (The chocolate is brought, ARABELLA pours it out.)

  JULIA. Do you talk of losing Fiesco? Good God! How could you ever conceive the ambitious idea of possessing him? Why, my child, aspire to such a height? A height where you cannot but be seen, and must come into comparison with others. Indeed, my dear, he was a knave or a fool who joined you with FIESCO. (Taking her hand with a look of compassion.) Poor soul! The man who is received in the assemblies of fashionable life could never be a suitable match for you. (She takes a dish of chocolate.)

  LEONORA (smiling at ARABELLA). If he were, he would not wish to mix with such assemblies.

 
; JULIA. The Count is handsome, fashionable, elegant. He is so fortunate as to have formed connections with people of rank. He is lively and high-spirited. Now, when he severs himself from these circles of elegance and refinement, and returns home warm with their impressions, what does he meet? His wife receives him with a commonplace tenderness; damps his fire with an insipid, chilling kiss, and measures out her attentions to him with a niggardly economy. Poor husband! Here, a blooming beauty smiles upon him-there he is nauseated by a peevish sensibility. Signora, signora, for God's sake consider, if he have not lost his understanding, which will he choose?

  LEONORA (offering her a cup of chocolate). You, madam-if he have lost it.

  JULIA. Good! This sting shall return into your own bosom. Tremble for your mockery! But before you tremble-blush!

  LEONORA. Do you then know what it is to blush, signora? But why not? 'Tis a toilet trick.

  JULIA. Oh, see! This poor creature must be provoked if one would draw from her a spark of wit. Well-let it pass this time. Madam, you were bitter. Give me your hand in token of reconciliation.

  LEONORA (offering her hand with a significant look). Countess, my anger ne'er shall trouble you.

  JULIA (offering her hand). Generous, indeed! Yet may I not be so, too? (Maliciously.) Countess, do you not think I must love that person whose image I bear constantly about me?

  LEONORA (blushing and confused). What do you say? Let me hope the conclusion is too hasty.

  JULIA. I think so, too. The heart waits not the guidance of the senses -real sentiment needs no breastwork of outward ornament.

  LEONORA. Heavens! Where did you learn such a truth?

  JULIA. 'Twas in mere compassion that I spoke it; for observe, madam, the reverse is no less certain. Such is Fiesco's love for you. (Gives her the picture, laughing maliciously.)

  LEONORA (with extreme indignation). My picture! Given to you! (Throws herself into a chair, much affected.) Cruel, Fiesco!