FIESCO (pacing the room in great emotion). To be irresolute is the most certain danger. He that aspires to greatness must be daring.
LEONORA. Greatness, Fiesco! Alas! thy towering spirit ill accords with the fond wishes of my heart. Should fortune favor thy attempt-shouldst thou obtain dominion-alas! I then shall be but the more wretched. Condemned to misery shouldst thou fail-if thou succeed, to misery still greater. Here is no choice but evil. Unless he gain the ducal power, Fiesco perishes-if I embrace the duke I lose my husband.
FIESCO. I understand you not.
LEONORA. Ah! my Fiesco, in the stormy atmosphere that surrounds a throne the tender plant of love must perish. The heart of man, e'en were that heart Fiesco's, is not vast enough for two all-powerful idols-idols so hostile to each other. Love has tears, and can sympathize with tears. Ambition has eyes of stone, from which no drop of tenderness can e'er distil. Love has but one favored object, and is indifferent to all the world beside. Ambition, with insatiable hunger, rages amid the spoil of nature, and changes the immense world into one dark and horrid prison-house. Love paints in every desert an elysium. And when thou wouldest recline upon my bosom, the cares of empires, or rebellious vassals, would fright away repose. If I should throw myself into thy arms, thy despot fears would hear a murderer rushing forth to strike thee, and urge thy trembling flight through all the palace. Nay, black suspicion would at last o'erwhelm domestic concord. If thy Leonora's tenderness should offer thee a refreshing draught, thou wouldst with horror push away the goblet, and call it poison--
FIESCO (starting). Leonora, cease! These thoughts are dreadful.
LEONORA. And yet the picture is not finished. Let love be sacrificed to greatness-and even peace of mind-if Fiesco but remained unchanged. O God! that thought is racking torture. Seldom do angels ascend the throne-still seldomer do they descend it such. Can he know pity who is raised above the common fears of man? Will he speak the accents of compassion who at every wish can launch a bolt of thunder to enforce it. (She stops, then timidly advances, and takes his hand with a look of tender reproach.) Princes, Fiesco-these abortions of ambition and weakness-who presume to sit in judgment 'twixt the godhead and mortality. Wicked servants-worse rulers.
FIESCO (walking about much agitated). Leonora, cease! The bridge is raised behind me--
LEONORA (with a look of tenderness). And why, my husband? Deeds alone are irrevocable. Thou once didst swear (fondly clinging to him, and somewhat archly) that all thy projects vanished before my beauty. Thou hast foresworn thyself, dissembler-or else my charms have prematurely withered. Ask thy own heart where lies the blame? (More ardently, and throwing her arms round him.) Return, Fiesco! Conquer thyself! Renounce! Love shall indemnify thee. O Fiesco, if my heart cannot appease thy insatiate passions, the diadem will be found still poorer. Come, I'll study the inmost wishes of this soul. I will melt into one kiss of love all the charms of nature, to retain forever in these heavenly bonds the illustrious captive. As thy heart is infinite, so shall be my passion. To be a source of happiness to a being who places all its heaven in thee, Fiesco? Ought that to leave any void in thy heart.
FIESCO (with great emotion). Leonora-what hast thou done? (He falls, overcome, on her neck.) I shall never more dare to meet the eyes of Genoa's citizens.
LEONORA (with lively expression). Let us fly, Fiesco! let us with scorn reject these gaudy nothings, and pass our future days only in the retreats of love! (She presses him to her breast with rapture.) Our souls, serene as the unclouded sky, shall never more be blackened by the poisonous breath of sorrow; our lives shall flow harmoniously as the music of the murmuring brook. (A cannon-shot is heard-FIESCO disengages himself-all the conspirators enter.)
SCENE XV.
CONSPIRATORS. The hour is come!
FIESCO (to LEONORA, firmly). Farewell! forever unless Genoa to-morrow be laid prostrate at thy feet. (Going to rush out.)
BOURGOGNINO (cries out). The countess faints! (LEONORA in a swoon-all run to support her.)
FIESCO (kneeling before her, in a tone of despair). Leonora! Save her! For heaven's sake save her! (ROSA and ARABELLA run to her assistance.) She lives-she opens her eyes (jumps up resolutely). Now to close Doria's! (Conspirators rush out.)
ACT V.
SCENE I.-After midnight. The great street of Genoa. A few lamps, which gradually become extinguished. In the background is seen the Gate of St. Thomas, which is shut. Men pass over the stage with lanterns. The patrol go their round. Afterwards, everything is quiet except the waves of the sea, which are heard at a distance, rather tempestuous.
FIESCO (armed, before the Doria Palace), and ANDREAS.
FIESCO. The old man has kept his word. The lights are all extinguished in the palace-the guards dismissed-I'll ring. (Rings at the gate.) Ho! Halloo! Awake, Doria! Thou art betrayed. Awake! Halloo! Halloo!
ANDREAS (appearing at the balcony). Who rings there?
FIESCO (in a feigned voice). Ask not, but follow me! Duke, thy star has set; Genoa is in arms against thee! Thy executioners are near, and canst thou sleep, Andreas?
ANDREAS (with dignity). I remember when the raging sea contended with my gallant vessel-when her keel cracked and the wind split her topmast. Yet Andreas Doria then slept soundly. Who sends these executioners!
FIESCO. A man more terrible than your raging sea-John Louis Fiesco.
ANDREAS (laughs). You jest, my friend. Come in the daytime to play your tricks. Midnight suits them badly.
FIESCO. Dost thou then despise thy monitor?
ANDREAS. I thank him and retire to rest. Fiesco, wearied with his rioting, sleeps, and has no time to think of Doria.
FIESCO. Wretched old man! Trust not the artful serpent! Its back is decked with beauteous colors; but when you would approach to view it you are suddenly entwined within its deadly folds. You despised the perfidious Moor. Do not despise the counsels of a friend. A horse stands ready saddled for you; fly, while you have time!
ANDREAS. Fiesco has a noble mind. I never injured him, and he will not betray me.
FIESCO. Fiesco has a noble mind and yet betrays thee. He gives thee proof of both.
ANDREAS. There is a guard, which would defy Fiesco's power, unless he led against them legions of spirits.
FIESCO (scornfully). That guard I should be glad to see to despatch it with a message for eternity.
ANDREAS (in an elevated manner). Vain scoffer! Knowest thou not that Andreas has seen his eightieth year, and that Genoa beneath his rule is happy? (Leaves the balcony.)
FIESCO (looks after him with astonishment). Must I then destroy this man before I have learnt how difficult it is to equal him? (He walks up and down some time in meditation). 'Tis past, Andreas. I have repaid the debt of greatness. Destruction take thy course! (He hastens into a remote street. Drums are heard on all sides. A hot engagement at the St. Thomas' Gate. The gate is forced, and opens a prospect in the harbor, in which lie several ships with lights on board.)