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Perhaps I shall soon follow, perhaps never. Verrina, I must stay; the danger is not yet past. Look to thy bride, thou proud, insatiable one. FIESCO and ZIBO from different sides. Attendants. Who set fire to those houses? ZIBO. The citadel is taken. FIESCO. Who set those houses on fire? Despatch a guard to apprehend the villains. FIESCO. Will they make me an incendiary? Hasten with the engines!
ZENTURIONE. The right wing of the palace is full of lights. ZIBO. Do you hear nothing? ZENTURIONE. A confused murmuring within and ZIBO. The sound of clattering arms ZENTURIONE. Horrible! horrible! ZIBO. A carriage it stops at the gate! Who goes there? The former, four of the ASSERATO family. A friend of FIESCO. ZIBO. They are the four Asserati. ZENTURIONE. Good evening, friends!
BOURGOGNINO, a conspirator, a youth of twenty; frank and high-spirited, proud, hasty, and undisguised. CALCAGNO, a conspirator, a worn-out debauchee of thirty; insinuating and enterprising. SACCO, a conspirator, forty-five years of age, with no distinguishing trait of character. LOMELLINO, in the confidence of the pretender, a haggard courtier. ZENTURIONE, | ZIBO, | Malcontents.
I was obliged to leave a most dear person in anxious apprehension a person who will share with me the glory of this night. 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! Look, Genoese! By heavens, this is not the face of Gianettino! No! ye devils!
ZIBO. Here are arms ZENTURIONE. No one that will answer ZIBO. 'Tis strange! ZENTURIONE. What is it o'clock? ZIBO. Past eight. ZENTURIONE. How bitter cold it is! ZIBO. Eight was the hour appointed. 'Tis not all as it should be here. ZIBO. Fiesco means to jest with us ZENTURIONE. To-morrow will be the ducal election. Zibo, all's not right here, depend upon it. ZIBO. Hush! hush!
I ask, on what are you resolved? ZIBO. Methinks the question shall be, on what does Genoa resolve? FIESCO. Genoa! Genoa! name it not. 'Tis rotten, and crumbles wherever you touch it. Do you reckon on the nobles? Perhaps because they put on grave faces, look mysterious when state affairs are mentioned talk not of them! Their heroism is stifled among the bales of their Levantine merchandise.
ZENTURIONE. I think it has begun, and we are acting our parts as fools. ZIBO. I'm not over warm I'll return home. ASSERATO. Arms here, too? ZIBO. Poh! Mere play-house articles. ZENTURIONE. Shall we stand waiting, like ghosts upon the banks of Acheron? Come, let us to a tavern! Back! Back! ZENTURIONE. Death and the devil! We are caught. ZIBO. My sword shall open a passage! ASSERATO. Put it up!
ZIBO. So they say. They say so only! Who say? Declare, upon your honor, has he escaped? If I may trust my eyes against the assertion of a nobleman, then Gianettino lives. 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. Heaven and hell! Zibo! Bourgognino shall answer for it with his head.
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. CALCAGNO. Let me be the first to welcome the illustrious conquerer within the walls.
MASK. It is the same that once adored the lady Zibo, and yielded her to Fiesco. FIESCO. Scipio Bourgognino! And who now stands here to vindicate his honor, that yielded to a rival base enough to tyrannize over innocence. Noble youth! thanks to the sufferings of my consort, which have drawn forth the manly feelings of your soul; I admire your generous indignation but I refuse your challenge.
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