No More Learning

My plan is formed. Ere two days are past twelve senators must fall.
Doria becomes sovereign, and the Emperor Charles protects him. Thou
seemest astonished----

LOMELLINO. Twelve senators! My heart is too narrow to comprehend a
twelvefold murder.

GIANETTINO. Fool that thou art! The throne will absolve the deed. I
consulted with the ministers of Charles on the strong party which France
still has in Genoa, and by which she might a second time seize on it
unless they should be rooted out. This worked upon the emperor--he
approved my projects--and thou shalt write what I will dictate to thee.

LOMELLINO. I know not yet your purpose.

GIANETTINO. Sit down and write----

LOMELLINO. But what am I to write? (Seats himself. )

GIANETTINO. The names of the twelve candidates for death--Francis
Zenturione.

LOMELLINO (writes). In gratitude for his vote he leads the funeral
procession.

GIANETTINO. Cornelio Calva.

LOMELLINO. Calva.

GIANETTINO. Michael Zibo.

LOMELLINO. To cool him after his disappointment in the procuratorship.

GIANETTINO. Thomas Asserato and his three brothers. (LOMELLINO stops. )

GIANETTINO (forcibly). And his three brothers----

LOMELLINO (writes). Go on.

GIANETTINO. Fiesco of Lavagna.

LOMELLINO. Have a care! Have a care! That black stone will yet prove
fatal to you.

GIANETTINO. Scipio Bourgognino.

LOMELLINO. He may celebrate elsewhere his wedding----

GIANETTINO. Ay, where I shall be director of the nuptials. Raphael
Sacco.

LOMELLINO. I should intercede for his life until he shall have paid my
five thousand crowns. (Writes. ) Death strikes the balance.

GIANETTINO. Vincent Calcagno.

LOMELLINO. Calcagno. The twelfth I write at my own risk, unless our
mortal enemy be overlooked.

GIANETTINO. The end crowns all--Joseph Verrina.

LOMELLINO. He is the very head of the viper that threatens us. (Rises
and presents the paper to GIANETTINO. ) Two days hence death shall make a
splendid feast, at which twelve of the chief of Genoa's nobles will be
present.

GIANETTINO (signs the paper). 'Tis done. Two days hence will be the
ducal election. When the senate shall be assembled for that purpose
these twelve shall, on the signal of a handkerchief, be suddenly laid
low. My two hundred Germans will have surrounded the senate-house. At
that moment I enter and claim homage as the Duke. (Rings the bell. )

LOMELLINO. And what of Andreas?

GIANETTINO (contemptuously). He is an old man. (Enter a servant. ) If
the Duke should ask for me say I am gone to mass. (Exit servant. ) I
must conceal the devil that's within beneath a saintly garb.

LOMELLINO. But, my lord, the paper?

GIANETTINO. Take it, and let it be circulated among our party. This
letter must be dispatched by express to Levanto. 'Tis to inform Spinola
of our intended plan, and bid him reach the capital early in the morning.
(Going. )

LOMELLINO. Stop, prince. There is an error in our calculation. Fiesco
does not attend the senate.

GIANETTINO (looking back). Genoa will easily supply one more assassin.
I'll see to that.

[Exeunt different ways.



SCENE XV. -An Ante-chamber in FIESCO'S Palace.

FIESCO, with papers before him, and MOOR.

FIESCO. Four galleys have entered the harbor, dost say?

MOOR. Yes, they're at anchor in the port.

FIESCO. That's well. Whence are these expresses?

MOOR. From Rome, Placentia, and France.

FIESCO (opens the letters and runs over them). Welcome! welcome news!
(In high spirits. ) Let the messengers be treated in a princely manner.

MOOR. Hem! (Going. ).

FIESCO. Stop, stop! Here's work for thee in plenty.

MOOR. Command me. I am ready to act the setter or the bloodhound.

FIESCO. I only want at present the voice of the decoy-bird. To-morrow
early two thousand men will enter the city in disguise to engage in my
service. Distribute thy assistants at the gates, and let them keep a
watchful eye upon the strangers that arrive. Some will be dressed like
pilgrims on their journey to Loretto, others like mendicant friars, or
Savoyards, or actors; some as peddlers and musicians; but the most as
disbanded soldiers coming to seek a livelihood in Genoa. Let every one
be asked where he takes up his lodging. If he answer at the Golden
Snake, let him be treated as a friend and shown my habitation. But
remember, sirrah, I rely upon thy prudence.

MOOR. Sir, as securely as upon my knavery. If a single head escape me,
pluck out my eyes and shoot at sparrows with them. (Going. )

FIESCO. Stop! I've another piece of business for thee. The arrival of
the galleys will excite suspicion in the city. If any one inquire of
thee about them, say thou hast heard it rumored that thy master intends
to cruise against the Turks. Dost thou understand me?

MOOR. Yes, yes--the beards of the Mussulmen at the masthead, but the
devil for a steersman. (Going. )

FIESCO. Gently--one more precaution. Gianettino has new reasons to hate
me and lay snares against my life. Go--sound the fellows of thy trade;
see if thou canst not smell out some plot on foot against me. Visit the
brothels--Doria often frequents them. The secrets of the cabinet are
sometimes lodged within the folds of a petticoat. Promise these ladies
golden customers. Promise them thy master. Let nothing be too sacred to
be used in gaining the desired information.

MOOR. Ha! luckily I am acquainted with one Diana Buononi, whom I have
served above a year as procurer. The other day I saw the Signor
Lomellino coming out of her house.

FIESCO. That suits my purpose well. This very Lomellino is the key to
all Doria's follies. To-morrow thou shalt go thither. Perhaps he is
to-night the Endymion of this chaste Diana.

MOOR. One more question, my lord. Suppose the people ask me--and that
they will, I'll pawn my soul upon it--suppose they ask, "What does Fiesco
think of Genoa? " Would you still wear the mask? --or--how shall I answer
them?

FIESCO. Answer? Hum! The fruit is ripe. The pains of labor announce
the approaching birth. Answer that Genoa lies upon the block, and that
thy master's name is--John Louis Fiesco----

MOOR (with an air of satisfaction). That, by my rogue's honor, shall be
done to your heart's content. Now be wide awake, friend Hassan! First
to a tavern! My feet have work enough cut out for them. I must coax my
stomach to intercede with my legs. (Hastening away--returns. ) Oh,
apropos! My chattering made me almost forget one circumstance. You
wished to know what passed between Calcagno and your wife. A refusal,
sir--that's all.

[Runs off.



SCENE XVI.

FIESCO alone.

FIESCO. I pity thee, Calcagno. Didst thou think I should, upon so
delicate a point, have been thus careless had I not relied in perfect
security on my wife's virtue and my own deserts? Yet I welcome this
passion. Thou art a good soldier. It shall procure me thy arm for the
destruction of Doria. (Walking up and down. ) Now, Doria, to the scene
of action! All the machines are ready for the grand attempt--the
instruments are tuned for the terrific concert. Naught is wanting but to
throw off the mask, and show Fiesco to the patriots of Genoa. (Some
persons are heard approaching. ) Ha! Visitors! Who can be coming to
disturb me?



SCENE XVII.

FIESCO, VERRINA, ROMANO, with a picture; SACCO, BOURGOGNINO,
CALCAGNO.

FIESCO (receiving them with great affability). Welcome, my worthy
friends!
What important business brings you all hither? Are you, too,
come, my dear brother, Verrina? I should almost have forgotten you, had
you not oftener been present to my thoughts than to my sight. I think I
have not seen you since my last entertainment.

VERRINA. Do not count the hours, Fiesco! Heavy burdens have in that
interval weighed down my aged head. But enough of this----

FIESCO. Not enough to satisfy the anxiety of friendship. You must
inform me farther when we are alone. (Addressing BOURGOGNINO. ) Welcome,
brave youth! Our acquaintance is yet green; but my affection for thee is
already ripe. Has your esteem for me improved?

BOURGOGNINO. 'Tis on the increase.

FIESCO. Verrina, it is reported that this brave young man is to be your
son-in-law. Receive my warmest approbation of your choice. I have
conversed with him but once; and yet I should be proud to call him my
relation.

VERRINA. That judgment makes me of my daughter vain.

FIESCO (to the others). 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.

ROMANO. He, my lord, is simply a painter, by name Julio Romano, who
lives by theft and counterfeit of Nature's charms. His pencil is his
only escutcheon; and he now comes hither (bowing profoundly) to seek the
manly outlines of a Brutus.

FIESCO. Give me your hand, Romano! I love the mistress of your soul
with a holy fire. Art is the right hand of Nature. The latter only gave
us being, but 'twas the former made us men. What are the subjects of
your labor?

ROMANO. Scenes from the heroic ages of antiquity. At Florence is my
dying Hercules, at Venice my Cleopatra, the raging Ajax at Rome, where,
in the Vatican, the heroes of former times rise again to light.

FIESCO. And what just now employs you?

ROMANO. Alas! my lord, I've thrown away my pencil. The lamp of genius
burns quicker than the lamp of life. Beyond a certain moment the flame
flickers and dies. This is my last production.

FIESCO (in a lively manner). It could not come more opportune. I feel
to-day a more than usual cheerfulness. A sentiment of calm delight
pervades my being, and fits it to receive the impression of Nature's
beauties. Let us view your picture. I shall feast upon the sight.
Come, friends, we will devote ourselves entirely to the artist. Place
your picture.

VERRINA (apart to the others). Now, Genoese, observe!

ROMANO (placing the picture). The light must fall upon it thus. Draw up
that curtain--let fall the other,--right. (Standing on one side). It is
the story of Virginia and Appius Claudius. (A long pause; all
contemplate the picture. )

VERRINA (with enthusiasm). Strike, aged father! Dost thou tremble,
tyrant? How pale you stand there, Romans! Imitate him, senseless
Romans! The sword yet glitters! Imitate me, senseless Genoese! Down
with Doria! Down with him! (Striking at the picture. )

FIESCO (to the painter, smiling). Could you desire greater applause?
Your art has transformed this old man into a youthful enthusiast.

VERRINA (exhausted). Where am I! What has become of them! They
vanished like bubbles. You here, Fiesco! and the tyrant living!

FIESCO. My friend, amidst this admiration you have overlooked the parts
most truly beauteous. Does this Roman's head thus strike you? Look
there! Observe that damsel--what soft expression! What feminine
delicacy! How sweetly touched are those pale lips! How exquisite that
dying look! Inimitable! Divine, Romano! And that white, dazzling
breast, that heaves with the last pulse of life. Draw more such
beauties, Romano, and I will give up Nature to worship thy creative
fancy.

BOURGOGNINO. Is it thus, Verrina, your hopes are answered?

VERRINA. Take courage, son! The Almighty has rejected the arm of
FIESCO. Upon ours he must rely.

FIESCO (to ROMANO). Well--'tis your last work, Romano. Your powers are
exhausted. Lay down your pencil. Yet, whilst I am admiring the artist,
I forget to satiate on the work. I could stand gazing on it, regardless
of an earthquake. Take away your picture--the wealth of Genoa would
scarcely reach the value of this Virginia. Away with it.

ROMANO. Honor is the artist's noblest reward. I present it to you.
(Offers to go away. )

FIESCO. Stay, Romano! (He walks majestically up and down the room,
seeming to reflect on something of importance. Sometimes he casts a
quick and penetrating glance at the others; at last he takes ROMANO
by the hand, and leads him to the picture. ) Come near, painter.
(With dignified pride. ) Proudly stand'st thou there because, upon
the dead canvas, thou canst simulate life, and immortalize great deeds
with small endeavor. Thou canst dilate with the poet's fire on the
empty puppet-show of fancy, without heart and without the nerve of
life-inspiring deeds; depose tyrants on canvas, and be thyself a
miserable slave! Thou canst liberate Republics with a dash of the
pencil, yet not break thy own chains! (In a loud and commanding tone. )
Go! Thy work is a mere juggle. Let the semblance give place to reality!
(With haughtiness, overturning the picture. ) I have done what thou hast
only painted. (All struck with astonishment; ROMANO carries away the
picture in confusion. )



SCENE XVIII.

The former, except ROMANO.

FIESCO. Did you suppose the lion slept because he ceased to roar? Did
your vain thoughts persuade you that none but you could feel the chains
of Genoa? That none but you durst break them? Before you knew their
weight, Fiesco had already broken them. (He opens an escritoire, takes
out a parcel of letters, and throws them on the table. ) These bring
soldiers from Parma;--these, French money;-these, four galleys from the
Pope. What now is wanting to rouse the tyrant in his lair? Tell me,
what think you wanting? (All stand silent with astonishment. )
Republicans! you waste your time in curses when you should overthrow the
tyrant. (All but VERRINA throw themselves at FIESCO'S feet. )

VERRINA. Fiesco, my spirit bends to thine, but my knee cannot. Thy soul
is great; but--rise, Genoese! (They rise. )

FIESCO. All Genoa was indignant at the effeminate Fiesco; all Genoa
cursed the profligate FIESCO. Genoese! my amours have blinded the
cunning despot. My wild excesses served to guard my plans from the
danger of an imprudent confidence. Concealed beneath the cloak of luxury
the infant plot grew up. Enough--I'm known sufficiently to Genoa in
being known to you. I have attained my utmost wish.

BOURGOGNINO (throwing himself indignantly into a chair). Am I, then,
nothing?

FIESCO. But let us turn from thought to action. All the engines are
prepared--I can storm the city by sea and land. Rome, France, and Parma
cover me; the nobles are disaffected; the hearts of the populace are
mine; I have lulled to sleep the tyrants; the state is ripe for
revolution. We are no longer in the hands of Fortune. Nothing is
wanting. Verrina is lost in thought.

BOURGOGNINO. Patience! I have a word to say, which will more quickly
rouse him than the trumpet of the last day. (To VERRINA--calls out to
him emphatically. ) Father! Awake! Thy Bertha will despair.

VERRINA. Who spoke those words? Genoese, to arms!

FIESCO. Think on the means of forwarding our plan. Night has advanced
upon our discourse; Genoa is wrapped in sleep; the tyrant sinks exhausted
beneath the sins of the day. Let us watch o'er both.

BOURGOGNINO. Let us, before we part, consecrate our heroic union by an
embrace! (They form a circle, with joined arms. ) Here unite five of the
bravest hearts in Genoa to decide their country's fate. (All embrace
eagerly. ) When the universe shall fall asunder, and the eternal sentence
shall cut in twain the bonds of consanguinity and love, then may this
fivefold band of heroes still remain entire! (They separate. )

VERRINA. When shall we next assemble?

FIESCO. At noon to-morrow I'll hear your sentiments.

VERRINA. 'Tis well--at noon to-morrow. Goodnight, Fiesco! Come,
Bourgognino, you will hear something marvellous.

[Exeunt VERRINA and BOURGOGNINO.

FIESCO (to the others). Depart by the back gates, that Doria's spies may
not suspect us.

[Exeunt SACCO and CALCAGNO.



SCENE XIX. FIESCO, alone.

FIESCO (walking up and down in meditation). What a tumult is in my
breast! What a concourse of dark, uncertain images! Like guilty
wretches stealing out in secret to do some horrid deed, with trembling
steps and blushing faces bent toward the ground, these flattering
phantoms glide athwart my soul.