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Updated: May 26, 2025
FIESCO. Your doubts are reasonable, but read these papers. Knowest thou not that the majestic sun himself must quit the heavens, and yield his sceptre to the radiant moon? Farewell, Doria, beauteous star! Patroclus to the shades is gone, And he was more than thou. This is horrible. CALCAGNO. Twelve victims at a blow! VERRINA. To-morrow in the senate-house!
Is this the valor that should punish tyrants? Well didst thou play thy part, Calcagno. Did none of you perceive that this alarm was my contrivance? Speak, Calcagno? Was it not my order that you should put these Romans to this trial? VERRINA. Well, if you can laugh I'll believe you or never more think you man. FIESCO. Shame on you, men! to fail in such a boyish trial!
LEONORA. A false oath. Cease! The perjuries of men are so innumerable 'twould tire the pen of the recording angel to write them down. If their violated oaths were turned into as many devils they might storm heaven itself, and lead away the angels of light as captives. CALCAGNO. Nay, madam, your anger makes you unjust. Is the whole sex to answer for the crime of one?
Calcagno, thou must choose one or the other either to give up thy heart or thy profession. CALCAGNO. The Count is faithless to her; and of all the arts that may seduce a woman the subtlest is jealousy. A plot against the Dorias will at the same time occupy the Count, and give me easy access to his house. Thus, while the shepherd guards against the wolf, the fox shall make havoc of the poultry.
VERRINA. No every rascal in Italy will say 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. The truth? Has the girl then mocked me? CALCAGNO. No! no! Bourgognino. The girl is spotless as an angel. By my soul's happiness, I comprehend it not! Spotless, yet dishonored!
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!
Naught is wanting but to throw off the mask, and show Fiesco to the patriots of Genoa. Visitors! Who can be coming to disturb me? FIESCO, VERRINA, ROMANO, with a picture; SACCO, BOURGOGNINO, CALCAGNO. Welcome, my worthy friends! What important business brings you all hither? Are you, too, come, my dear brother, Verrina?
VERRINA. That judgment makes me of my daughter vain. 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.
A convulsion of the state will give me breath; and if it do not cancel all my debts, at least 'twill stop the mouths of bawling creditors. CALCAGNO. I understand thee; and if then, perchance, Genoa should be freed, Sacco will be hailed his country's savior.
Well, this really is what I call credit to trust the simple word of such a rogue as I am! CALCAGNO, behind him SACCO, both in black cloaks. CALCAGNO. I perceive thou watchest all my steps. SACCO. And I observe thou wouldst conceal them from me. Attend, Calcagno! For some weeks past I have remarked the workings of thy countenance. They bespeak more than concerns the interests of our country.
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