The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 104

SCENE XIV.

LEONORA and FIESCO.

LEONORA (approaching with anxiety). Fiesco! Fiesco! I understand but half your meaning; yet I begin to tremble.

FIESCO (significantly). Leonora! I once saw you yield the place of honor to another. I saw you, in the presence of the n.o.bles, receive the second compliment. Leonora, that sight tormented me. I resolved it should be so no longer. Henceforth it ceases. Do you hear the warlike noise which echoes through my palace? What you suspect is true. Retire to rest, countess, to-morrow you shall awake d.u.c.h.ess of Genoa.

LEONORA (clasping her hands together, and throwing herself into a chair).

O G.o.d! My very fears! I am undone!

FIESCO (seriously, and with dignity). Let me speak out, my love. Two of my ancestors wore the triple crown. The blood of the Fiescos flows not pure unless beneath the purple. Shall your husband only reflect a borrowed splendor? (In a more energetic manner.) What! shall he owe his rank alone to capricious chance, which, from the ashes of mouldering greatness, has patched together a John Louis Fiesco? No, Leonora, I am too proud to accept from others what my own powers may achieve. This night the hereditary t.i.tles of my ancestors shall return to deck their tombs--Lavagna's counts exist no longer--a race of princes shall begin.

LEONORA (mournfully, and giving way to imagination). I see my husband fall, transfixed by deadly wounds. (In a hollow voice.) I see them bear my husband's mangled corpse towards me. (Starting up.) The first--the only ball has pierced Fiesco's heart.

FIESCO (tenderly seizing her hand). Be calm, my love. The only ball will not strike me.

LEONORA (looking steadfastly at him). Does Fiesco so confidently challenge Heaven? If, in the scope of countless possibilities, one chance alone were adverse, that one might happen, and I should lose my husband. Think that thou venturest Heaven, Fiesco; and though a million chances were in thy favor, wouldst thou dare tempt the Almighty by risking on a cast thy hopes of everlasting happiness? No, my husband!

When thy whole being is at stake each throw is blasphemy.

FIESCO. Be not alarmed. Fortune and I are better friends.

LEONORA. Ah! say you so, Fiesco? You, who have watched the soul-convulsing game, which some call pastime? Have you not seen the sly deceiver, Fortune, how she leads on her votary with gradual favors, till, heated with success, he rushes headlong and stakes his all upon a single cast? Then in the decisive moment she forsakes him, a victim of his rashness--and stood you then unmoved? Oh, my husband, think not that thou hast but to show thyself among the people to be adored. 'Tis no slight task to rouse republicans from their slumber and turn them loose, like the unbridled steed, just conscious of his hoofs.

Trust not those traitors. They among them who are most discerning, even while they instigate thy valor, fear it; the vulgar wors.h.i.+p thou with senseless and unprofitable adoration. Whichever way I look Fiesco is undone.

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 va.s.sals, would fright away repose. If I should throw myself into thy arms, thy despot fears would hear a murderer rus.h.i.+ng 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 refres.h.i.+ng 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 Fies...o...b..t remained unchanged. O G.o.d! 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 compa.s.sion 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 G.o.dhead 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 pa.s.sions, 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 ill.u.s.trious captive. As thy heart is infinite, so shall be my pa.s.sion. 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 pa.s.s 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 a.s.sistance.) 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 pa.s.s 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 n.o.ble mind. I never injured him, and he will not betray me.

FIESCO. Fiesco has a n.o.ble 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.