No More Learning

You will not act thus madly?

LEONORA (with heroic haughtiness). Weak girl! I will. (With great
animation. ) Where the tumult rages the most fiercely. 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!

SACCO (entering with CONSPIRATORS). Who goes there--Doria or Fiesco?

LEONORA (with enthusiasm). Fiesco and liberty. (Retires into another
street. A tumult, ARABELLA lost in the crowd. )



SCENE VI.

SACCO, with a number of followers. CALCAGNO,
meeting him with others.

CALCAGNO. Andreas has escaped.

SACCO. Unwelcome tidings to Fiesco.

CALCAGNO. Those Germans fight like furies! They planted themselves
around the old man like rocks. I could not even get a glimpse of him.
Nine of our men are done for; I myself was slightly wounded. Zounds! If
they thus serve a foreign tyrant, how will they guard the princes of
their country?

SACCO. Numbers have flocked already to our standard, and all the gates
are ours.

CALCAGNO. I hear they still are fighting desperately at the citadel.

SACCO. Bourgognino is amongst them. Where is Verrina?

CALCAGNO. He guards, like Cerberus, the passage between Genoa and the
sea--an anchovy could scarcely pass him.

SACCO. I'll rouse the suburbs----

CALCAGNO. I'll away to the market-place. Drummers, strike up! (They
march off, drums beating. )



SCENE VII.

MOOR. A troop of THIEVES, with lighted matches.

MOOR. Now I'll let you into a secret, my boys; 'twas I that cooked this
soup, but the devil a spoonful do they give me. Well, I care not. This
hubbub is just to my taste. We'll set about burning and plundering.
While they are squabbling for a dukedom we'll make a bonfire in the
churches that shall warm the frozen apostles. (They disperse themselves
among the neighboring houses. )



SCENE VIII.

BOURGOGNINO--BERTHA, disguised as a boy.

BOURGOGNINO. Rest here, dear youth; thou art in safety. Dost thou
bleed?

BERTHA (in a feigned voice). No; not at all.

BOURGOGNINO (with energy). Rise, then, I'll lead thee where thou mayst
gain wounds for Genoa--wounds beautiful like these. (Uncovering his
arm. )

BERTHA (starting). Heavens!

BOURGOGNINO. Art thou frightened, youth? Too early didst thou put on
the man. What age hast thou?

BERTHA. Fifteen years.

BOURGOGNINO. That is unfortunate! For this night's business thou art
five years too young. Who is thy father?

BERTHA. The truest citizen in Genoa.

BOURGOGNINO. Gently, boy! That name belongs alone to the father of my
betrothed bride. Dost thou know the house of Verrina?

BERTHA. I should think so.

BOURGOGNINO (eagerly). And knowest thou his lovely daughter?

BERTHA. Her name is Bertha.

BOURGOGNINO. Go, quickly! Carry her this ring. Say it shall be our
wedding-ring; and tell her the blue crest fights bravely. Now farewell!
I must hasten yonder. The danger is not yet over. (Some houses are seen
on fire. )

BERTHA (in a soft voice). Scipio!

BOURGOGNINO (struck with astonishment). By my sword! I know that voice.

BERTHA (falling upon his neck). By my heart! I am well known here.

BOURGOGNINO. Bertha! (Alarm-bells sound in the suburbs--a tumult--
BOURGOGNINO and BERTHA embrace, and are lost in the crowd. ) [NOTE]


[NOTE] In lieu of this scene Schiller substituted the following, during
his stay at Leipzig in 1786, for the use of the theatre there:--

A subterranean vault, lighted by a single lamp. The background
remains quite dark. BERTHA is discovered sitting on a stone in
the foreground; a black veil covers her face. After a pause she
rises and walks to and fro.

BERTHA. Still no sound? No sign of human footstep? No approach of
my deliverers. Horrible suspense! Fearful and hopeless as that of
one buried alive beneath the sod of the churchyard. And for what dost
thou sit, poor deceived one? An inviolable oath immures thee in this
dungeon. Gianettino Doria must fall, and Genoa be free, or Bertha left
to pine away her miserable existence, such was my father's oath.
Fearful prison-house to which there is no key but the death-groan of a
well-guarded tyrant. (Looking round the vault) How awful is this
stillness! terrible as the silence of the grave! How fearfully the
darkness creeps from yonder vaults! My lamp, too, is flickering in its
socket. (Walking up and down energetically). Oh, come, come, my
beloved, 'tis horrible to die here. (A pause--then she starts up and
rushes to and fro wringing her hands to deep despair. ) He has forsaken
me. He has broken his oath. He has forgotten his Bertha. The living
think not of the dead, and this vault is my tomb. Hope no more, wretched
one. Hope flourishes only where the eye of the Almighty pervades--into
this dungeon it never penetrates. (Again a pause; she becomes still more
alarmed. )

Or have my deliverers perished? Perchance the bold attempt has failed,
the danger has overwhelmed the courageous youth. O unhappy Bertha,
perhaps even now their ghosts are wandering through these vaults, and
weep over thy vain hopes. (Shuddering. ) Heavens! if they are dead I am
irrevocably lost, irrevocably abandoned to a horrible death. (Leans
against the wall for support. After a pause she continues despondingly. )
And if my beloved one still lives--if he should return to keep his word,
to fetch his bride away in triumph, and find all here lonely and silent,
and the inanimate corpse no longer sensible to his transports--when his
burning kisses shall in vain endeavor to restore the life which has fled
from these lips, and his tears flow on me hopelessly--when my father
shall sink weeping on the body of his daughter, and the voice of his
lamentations echo through the regions of my prison-house. Oh, then
repeat not to them my complaints, ye walls! Tell them that I suffered
like a heroine, and that my last sigh was forgiveness. (Sinks exhausted
on the stone--pause--a confused sound of drums and bells is heard from
behind the stage in various directions. BERTHA starts to her feet. )
Hark! what means this? Am I awake, or do I dream? How dreadfully the
bells clang! That is no sound of ringing to prayers. (The noise comes
nearer and increases; she rushes to and fro alarmed. ) Louder and louder
yet! Heavens, they are alarm-bells! they are alarm-bells! Have enemies
surprised the city? Is Genoa in flames? A wild and dreadful din, like
the trampling of myriads! What's that? (Someone knocks loudly at the
door. ) They cone this way--they draw the bolts--(rushing towards the
background). Men! Men! Liberty! Deliverance! (BOURGOGNINO enters
hastily with a drawn sword, followed by several torch-bearers. )

BOURGOGNINO (calling out loudly). Thou art free, Bertha! The tyrant is
dead! This sword has passed through his heart.

BERTHA (running into his arms). My deliverer! my angel!

BOURGOGNINO. Dost thou hear the alarm-bells, and the roll of the drums?
Fiesco has conquered, Genoa is free, and thy father's curse annihilated.

BERTHA. Oh, heavens! This dreadful uproar, these alarm-bells, then,
were for me?

BOURGOGNINO. For thee, Bertha! They are our marriage chimes. Leave
this horrid dungeon and follow me to the altar.

BERTHA. To the altar, Bourgognino? Now, at this midnight hour? While
this awful tumult is raging as though the whole globe were crushing to
atoms! (VERRINA enters unperceived, and remains standing silently at the
entrance. )

BOURGOGNINO. In this beautiful, glorious night, in which all Genoa
celebrates its freedom, as a bond of love this sword, still dyed with the
tyrant's blood, shall be my wedding gear--this hand, still warm from the
heroic deed, the priest shall lay in thine. Fear not my love, and follow
me to the church. (VERRINA approaches, steps between both, and embraces
them. )

VERRINA. God bless you, my children!

BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (falling at his feet). O my father!

VERRINA (lays his hands on them both--a pause--then he turns solemnly to
BOURGOGNINO). Never forget how dearly thou hast won her.
Never forget
that thy marriage dates from the day of Genoa's freedom. (Turning
towards BERTHA in a grave and dignified manner. ) Thou art the daughter
of Verrina, and 'twas thy husband slew the tyrant. (After a pause he
beckons them to rise, and says, with suppressed emotion. ) The priest
awaits you.

BERTHA AND BOURGOGNINO (together). How, my father? Will you not
accompany us thither?

VERRINA (very gravely). A terrible duty calls me elsewhere; my prayers
shall accompany you. (Drums and trumpets, intermixed with acclamations,
are heard in the distance. ) What means this shouting?

BOURGOGNINO. They are proclaiming Fiesco duke. The populace adore him,
and with eager acclamations brought him the purple; the nobles looked on
with dismay, but dared not refuse their sanction.

VERRINA (laughs bitterly). You see, my son, I must away with speed to be
the first to tender the oath of allegiance to the new monarch.

BOURGOGNINO (holds him back alarmed). What is your purpose! I'll go
with you.

BERTHA (hanging anxiously on BOURGOGNINO). Heavens! what means this,
Bourgognino? What is my father meditating?

VERRINA. My son, I have converted all my possessions into gold, and have
conveyed it on board thy ship. Take thy bride and embark without delay.
Perhaps I shall soon follow, perhaps never. Hasten to Marseilles, and
(embracing them with emotion) God be with you.

BOURGOGNINO (determinedly). Verrina, I must stay; the danger is not yet
past.

VERRINA (leading him towards BERTHA). Look to thy bride, thou proud,
insatiable one. Thou hast despatched thy tyrant, leave me to deal with
mine. [Exeunt.



SCENE IX.

FIESCO and ZIBO from different sides. Attendants.

FIESCO (in great anger). Who set fire to those houses?

ZIBO. The citadel is taken.

FIESCO. Who set those houses on fire?

ZIBO (to the attendants). Despatch a guard to apprehend the villains.
(Some soldiers go. )

FIESCO. Will they make me an incendiary? Hasten with the engines!
(Attendants go. ) But are you sure that Gianettino has fallen?

ZIBO. So they say.

FIESCO (wildly). They say so only! Who say? Declare, upon your honor,
has he escaped?

ZIBO (doubtfully). If I may trust my eyes against the assertion of a
nobleman, then--Gianettino lives.

FIESCO (starting). 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.

FIESCO (wildly). Heaven and hell! Zibo! Bourgognino shall answer for
it with his head. Hasten, Zibo! secure the barriers. Sink all the boats
that he may not escape by sea. This diamond, Zibo--the richest in all
Italy--this diamond shall reward the man who brings me tidings of
Gianettino's death. (ZIBO hastens away. ) Fly, Zibo!



SCENE X.

FIESCO, SACCO, the MOOR, SOLDIERS.

SACCO. We found this Moor throwing a lighted match into the convent of
the Jesuits.

FIESCO. Thy treachery was overlooked when it concerned myself alone.
The halter awaits the incendiary. Take him away and hang him at the
church-door.

MOOR. Plague on it! that's an awkward piece of business. Is there no
way out of it?

FIESCO. No.

MOOR. Send me awhile to the galleys----

FIESCO (beckoning to the attendants). To the gallows.

MOOR (impudently). Then I'll turn Christian.

FIESCO. The church refuses the dregs of infidelity.

MOOR (in an insinuating manner). At least send me drunk into eternity!

FIESCO. Sober.

MOOR. Don't hang me up, however, beside a Christian church!

FIESCO. A man of honor keeps his word. I promised thee a gallows of
thy own.

SACCO. No more prating, heathen! we've business of more consequence.

MOOR. But, stay! Perhaps the rope may break?

FIESCO (to SACCO). Let it be double.

MOOR. Well, if it must be so, the devil may make ready for an extra
guest. (Soldiers lead him off, and hang him at a little distance. )



SCENE XI.

FIESCO--LEONORA appearing at a distance, in the scarlet
cloak of GIANETTINO.

FIESCO (perceiving her, rushes forward--then stops). Do I know that
crest and mantle? (Rushes on furiously. ) Yes, I know them. (Runs her
through with his sword. ) If thou hast three lives then rise again.
(LEONORA falls with a hollow groan, the march of victory is heard, with
drums, horns, and hautboys. )



SCENE XII.

FIESCO, CALCAGNO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO:
SOLDIERS, with drums and colors.

FIESCO (advancing towards them in triumph). Genoese--the die is cast.
Here lies the viper of my soul, the abhorred food of my resentment. Lift
high your swords! Gianettino is no more!

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.

SACCO. And in me (kneeling) the less and greater senate of the republic
kneel down before their master, and supplicate for favor and protection.

CALCAGNO. Let me be the first to welcome the illustrious conquerer
within the walls. Bow your colors! Hail, Duke of Genoa!

ALL (taking off their hats). Hail! Hail, Duke of Genoa! (March of
triumph--FIESCO stands the whole time with his head sunk upon his breast,
in a meditating posture. )

CALCAGNO. The people and the senate wait to see their gracious sovereign
invested in the robes of dignity. Great duke, permit us to follow you in
triumph to the senate-house.

FIESCO. First allow me to listen to the dictates of my heart. I was
obliged to leave a most dear person in anxious apprehension--a person who
will share with me the glory of this night. (To the company. ) Will you,
my friends, attend me to your amiable duchess! (Going. )

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! (They hold lights
toward the body. )

CALCAGNO (terrified and in a low voice). Look, Genoese! By heavens,
this is not the face of Gianettino! (All look at the body. )

FIESCO (fixes his eyes upon it with an eager look, which he withdraws
slowly--then, with convulsive wildness, exclaims). No! ye devils! That
is not the face of Gianettino--Oh, malicious fiend! Genoa is mine, say
you? Mine? (Rushing forward with a dreadful shriek. ) Oh, trickery of
hell! It is my wife! (He sinks to the ground in agony--The CONSPIRATORS
stand around in groups, shuddering--a dead silence. )

FIESCO (raising himself exhausted--in a faint voice). But tell me truly,
Genoese, have I indeed slain my wife? I conjure you look not so ghastly
upon this illusion! Heaven be praised! there are fates which man has not
to fear, because he is but man. This must be one of them. He who is
denied the joys of heaven can scarce be doomed to bear the pains of hell.
This dread infliction would be even more. God be praised! It must be
so. And this is naught but the chimera of a disordered brain.



SCENE XIII.

The former--ARABELLA enters weeping.

ARABELLA. Let them kill me! What have I now to dread? Have pity on me,
Genoese. 'Twas here I left my dearest mistress, and nowhere can I find
her.

FIESCO (approaching her--with a low and trembling voice. ) Was Leonora
thy mistress?

ARABELLA (with pleasure). Are you there, my most gracious and dear good
lord? Be not displeased with us. We could no longer restrain her.

FIESCO (in alarm).