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Be on your guard, Lavagna! That, indeed, I am. Evil designs are formed against you, Count. That I perceive. MOOR. Beware of Doria! Perhaps my suspicions have wronged thee, my friend Doria is indeed the name I dread. MOOR. Avoid the man, then. Can you read? FIESCO. A curious question! Thou hast known, it seems, many of our cavaliers. What writing hast thou?
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. And do you see, madam, 'twas for this purpose that I tried to blind the eyes of the Dorias. She weeps, my Lodovico. May your Leonora, trembling, entreat you? Silence, detested woman! Be polite to my friend; escort this lady.
The portrait might be attributed to Raphael, but for the date. This example is, to my mind, superior to the portrait of Baccio Bandinelli in the Musee; the latter is a little hard, while the Templar, being painted upon 'lavagna, or slate, has preserved its freshness of coloring."
I'll find my way alone. ARABELLA. Great God! You will not act thus madly? Weak girl! I will. 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! Who goes there Doria or Fiesco? Fiesco and liberty.
That name is as easy to be remembered as 'twas difficult to achieve. Has Genoa more such names than one? MOOR. No it cannot have two Counts of Lavagna. That is something. And what do they whisper about my gayeties? Hear me, Count of Lavagna! Genoa must think highly of you.
Your Moor, Lavagna, is the rascal! I come from the senate-house. He had an audience of the duke. Soldiers! let me rush upon your halberts! I will not perish by the hangman's hands. What are you about? 'Sdeath, Calcagno! Friends, 'tis a false alarm. Thou, too, Verrina? and thou, Bourgognino? Whither wouldst thou go? BOURGOGNINO. Home to kill my Bertha and then return to fall with thee. Stay! stay!
FIESCO. That, prince, is all that I can wish. GIANETTINO. Then good-night! To-morrow we have a party at the palace, and Fiesco is invited. Come, procurator! FIESCO. Ho! Lights there! Music! Make way there for Doria! Make way? In hell! Never in Genoa! The prince is going. Good night, Lavagna! FIESCO. I perceive some guests here who do not share the pleasure of the feast. No! Not one of us.
Oh, that the Countess of Lavagna might be called to view this charming scene! How, Count, is this like a husband? This posture would better suit the chamber of your wife when she turns over the journal of your caresses and finds a void in the account. Rise, sir, and seek those to whom your overtures will prove more acceptable.
Michael Angelo was packed off to Carrara for marble as soon as his design was approved. There is a contract signed by him and two shipowners of Lavagna, dated November 18, 1505. Thirty-four cartloads of marble were then ready for shipment, together with two blocked-out figures. He probably left Carrara soon afterwards, returning to Rome by way of Florence.
A heap of arms on one side of the stage. BOURGOGNINO, leading a band of soldiers. BOURGOGNINO. Halt! Let four sentinels be stationed at the great gate. Two at every door of the palace. If any one attempts to force his way run him through. The sentinels walk up and down. ZENTURIONE entering. Who goes there? ZENTURIONE. A friend of Lavagna. SENTINEL THERE. Back! A pause.
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