Fiesco; or, the Genoese Conspiracy: A Tragedy

The CONSPIRATORS, entering in a body--LADIES on the other side--FIESCO, JULIA, and LEONORA.

Leonora. Oh, my husband, that was too cruel!

Fiesco. A wicked heart deserved no less. I owed this satisfaction to your tears. (To the company.) No,--my friends--I am not wont on every slight occasion to kindle into passion. The follies of mankind amuse me long ere they excite my anger; but this woman merits my whole resentment. Behold the poison which she had mingled for my beloved Leonora. (Shows the poison to the company--they start with horror.)

Julia. (biting her lips with rage) Good! Good! Very good, Sir! (Going.)

Fiesco. (leads her back by the arm) You must have patience, madam; something else remains. My friends, perhaps, would gladly learn why I debased my reason with the farce of love for Genoa's silliest coquette.

Julia. (starting up) It is not to be borne. But tremble! Doria rules in Genoa, and I am Doria's sister----

Fiesco. Poor, indeed, if that be your only sting! Know that Fiesco of Lavagna has changed the diadem of your illustrious brother for a halter, and means this night to hang the thief of the republic. (She is struck with terror--he continues with a sarcastic laugh.) Ha! that was unexpected. And do you see, madam, 'twas for this purpose that I tried to blind the eyes of the Dorias. For this I assumed a mock passion-- (pointing to JULIA.) For this I cast away this precious jewel--(pointing to LEONORA); and by shining bait ensnared my prey. I thank you for your complaisance, signora--(to JULIA;) and resign the trappings of my assumed character. (Delivers her the miniature with a bow.)

Leonora. (to FIESCO, in a supplicating tone) She weeps, my Lodovico. May your Leonora, trembling, entreat you?

Julia. (enraged, to LEONORA) Silence, detested woman!

Fiesco. (to a SERVANT) Be polite to my friend; escort this lady. She has a mind to see my prison-chamber--take care that none approach to incommode her. The night air is blowing somewhat keenly, the storm which rives the house of Doria may, perchance, ruffle the lady's head-dress.

Julia. Curses on thee, black, detested hypocrite! (Enraged, to LEONORA.) Rejoice not at thy triumph! He will destroy thee also, and himself--and then despair! (Rushing out!)

Fiesco. (to the guests) You were witnesses; let your report in Genoa preserve my honor. (To the CONSPIRATORS.) Call on me as soon as the cannon gives the signal. (All the guests retire.)