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Friend, which is the way to the theatre? SENTINEL. Don't know. Friend, when does the play begin? SENTINEL. Don't know. Friend, what mean these? SENTINEL. Don't know. Strange! Who goes there? The former, ZIBO entering. ZIBO. A friend of Lavagna. ZENTURIONE. Zibo, where are we? ZIBO. What mean you? ZENTURIONE. Look around you, Zibo. ZIBO. Where? What? ZENTURIONE. All the doors are guarded!
The count's a man of honor. ZIBO. We are sold! betrayed! The comedy was a bait, and we're caught in a trap. ASSERATO. Heaven forbid! And yet I tremble for the event. The former VERRINA, SACCO, and NOBLES. SENTINELS. Who goes there? VERRINA. Friends of the house. ZIBO. These are his confidants. Now all will be explained. 'Tis as I told you; Lascaro is on guard at the St.
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 Like frighted pigeons when the vulture darts upon the dovecot. ZENTURIONE. No! ZIBO. The people are enraged.
VERRINA. Be not too certain. Upon the left I saw countenances that grew pale, and knees that tottered. Twelve senators! Infernal villany! Seize each a sword! ZIBO. Thy name, too, Bourgognino, is written there. BOURGOGNINO. Ay, and if Heaven permit, it shall be written to-day upon the throat of Gianettino. ZENTURIONE. Two swords remain ZIBO. Ah! What sayest thou?
Thy Fiesco is Duke of Genoa and yet the meanest beggar would not exchange his poverty for my greatness and my sufferings. 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. Here me, Genoese!
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 Such a thing was never heard of since the sea washed the walls of Genoa. 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.
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.
Hasten amongst them; mention my name; persuade them to come hither. 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.
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. 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?
The cause is just, for Genoa suffers. The attempt will render us immortal, for it is vast and glorious Enough! Genoa shall be free! Be this our shout of onset against hell itself! ZIBO. And may he who is not roused by it pant at the slavish oar till the last trumpet break his chains FIESCO. Spoken like men. Now you deserve to know the danger that hung over yourselves and Genoa.
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