Fiesco by Friedrich Schiller (most recommended books .txt) 📖

a sword, which he had concealed under a scarlet cloak - stuck it through my vote - called to the assembly - -

ZIBO. "Senators, 'tis good-for-nothing - 'tis pierced through. Lomellino is procurator."

ZENTURIONE. "Lomellino is procurator." And threw his sword upon the table.

ASSERATO. And called out, "'Tis good-for-nothing!" and threw his sword upon the table.

FIESCO (after a pause). On what are you resolved?

ZENTURIONE. The republic is wounded to its very heart. On what are we resolved?

FIESCO. Zenturione, rushes may yield to a breath, but the oak requires a storm. I ask, on what are you resolved?

ZIBO. Methinks the question shall be, on what does Genoa resolve?

FIESCO. Genoa! Genoa! name it not. 'Tis rotten, and crumbles wherever you touch it. Do you reckon on the nobles? Perhaps because they put on grave faces, look mysterious when state affairs are mentioned - talk not of them! Their heroism is stifled among the bales of their Levantine merchandise. Their souls hover anxiously over their India fleet.

ZENTURIONE. Learn to esteem our nobles more justly. Scarcely was Doria's haughty action done when hundreds of them rushed into the street tearing their garments. The senate was dispersed - -

FIESCO (sarcastically). Like frighted pigeons when the vulture darts upon the dovecot.

ZENTURIONE. No! (fiercely) - like powder-barrels when a match falls on them.

ZIBO. The people are enraged. What may we not expect from the fury of the wounded boar!

FIESCO (laughing). The blind, unwieldy monster, which at first rattles its heavy bones, threatening, with gaping jaws, to devour the high and low, the near and distant, at last stumbles at a thread - Genoese, 'tis in vain! The epoch of the masters of the sea is past - Genoa is sunk beneath the splendor of its name. Its state is such as once was Rome's, when, like a tennis-ball, she leaped into the racket of young Octavius. Genoa can be free no longer; Genoa must be fostered by a monarch; therefore do homage to the mad-brained Gianettino.

ZENTURIONE (vehemently). Yes, when the contending elements are reconciled, and when the north pole meets the south. Come, friends.

FIESCO. Stay! stay! Upon what project are you brooding, Zibo?

ZIBO. On nothing.

FIESCO (leading them to a statue). Look at this figure.

ZENTURIONE. It is the Florentine Venus. Why point to her?

FIESCO. At least she pleases you.

ZIBO. Undoubtedly, or we should be but poor Italians. But why this question now?

FIESCO. Travel through all the countries of the globe, and among the most beautiful of living female models, seek one which shall unite all the charms of this ideal Venus.

ZIBO. And then take for our reward?

FIESCO. Then your search will have convicted fancy of deceit - -

ZENTURIONE (impatiently). And what shall we have gained?

FIESCO. Gained? The decision of the long-protracted contest between art and nature.

ZENTURIONE (eagerly). And what then?

FIESCO. Then, then? (Laughing.) Then your attention will have been diverted from observing the fall of Genoa's liberty.

[Exeunt all but FIESCO.


SCENE VI.

FIESCO alone. (The noise without increases.)

FIESCO. 'Tis well! 'tis well. The straw of the republic has caught fire - the flames have seized already on palaces and towers. Let it go on! May the blaze be general! Let the tempestuous wind spread wide the conflagration!


SCENE VII.

FIESCO, MOOR, entering in haste.

MOOR. Crowds upon crowds!

FIESCO. Throw open wide the gates. Let all that choose enter.

MOOR. Republicans! Republicans, indeed! They drag their liberty along, panting, like beasts of burden, beneath the yoke of their magnificent nobility.

FIESCO. Fools! who believe that Fiesco of Lavagna will carry on what Fiesco of Lavagna did not begin. The tumult comes opportunely; but the conspiracy must be my own. They are rushing hither - -

MOOR (going out). Halloo! halloo! You are very obligingly battering the house down. (The people rush in; the doors broken down.)


SCENE VIII.

FIESCO, twelve ARTISANS.

ALL ARTISANS. Vengeance on Doria! Vengeance on Gianettino!

FIESCO. Gently! gently! my countrymen! Your waiting thus upon me bespeaks the warmth of your affection; but I pray you have mercy on my ears!

ALL (with impetuosity). Down with the Dorias! Down with them, uncle and nephew!

FIESCO (counting them with a smile). Twelve is a mighty force!

SOME OF THEM. These Dorias must away! the state must be reformed!

1ST ARTISAN. To throw our magistrates down stairs! The magistrates!

2D ARTISAN. Think, Count Lavagna - down stairs! because they opposed them in the election - -

ALL. It must not be endured! it shall not be endured!

3D ARTISAN. To take a sword into the senate!

1ST ARTISAN. A sword? - the sign of war - into the chamber of peace!

2D ARTISAN. To come into the senate dressed in scarlet! Not like the other senators, in black.

1ST ARTISAN. To drive through our capital with eight horses!

ALL. A tyrant! A traitor to the country and the government!

2D ARTISAN. To hire two hundred Germans from the Emperor for his body-guard.

1ST ARTISAN. To bring foreigners in arms against the natives - Germans against Italians - soldiers against laws!

ALL. 'Tis treason! - 'tis a plot against the liberty of Genoa!

1ST ARTISAN. To have the arms of the republic painted on his coach!

2D ARTISAN. The statue of Andreas placed in the centre of the senate-house!

ALL. Dash them to pieces - both the statue and the man - -

FIESCO. Citizens of Genoa, why this to me?

1ST ARTISAN. You should not suffer it. You should keep him down.

2D ARTISAN. You are a wise man, and should not suffer it. You should direct us by your counsel.

1ST ARTISAN. You are a better nobleman. You should chastise them and curb their insolence.

FIESCO. Your confidence is flattering. Can I merit it by deeds?

ALL (clamorously). Strike! Down with the tyrant! Make us free!

FIESCO. But - will you hear me?

SOME. Speak, Count!


FIESCO (seating himself). Genoese, - the empire of the animals was once thrown into confusion; parties struggled with parties, till at last a bull-dog seized the throne. He, accustomed to drive the cattle to the knife of the butcher, prowled in savage manner through the state. He barked, he bit, and gnawed his subjects' bones. The nation murmured; the boldest joined together, and killed the princely monster. Now a general assembly was held to decide upon the important question, which form of government was best. There were three different opinions. Genoese, what would be your decision?

1ST ARTISAN. For the people - everything in common - -

FIESCO. The people gained it. The government was democratical; each citizen had a vote, and everything was submitted to a majority. But a few weeks passed ere man declared war against the new republic. The state assembled. Horse, lion, tiger, bear, elephant, and rhinoceros, stepped forth, and roared aloud, "To arms!" The rest were called upon to vote. The lamb, the hare, the stag, the ass, the tribe of insects, with the birds and timid fishes, cried for peace. See, Genoese! The cowards were more numerous than the brave; the foolish than the wise. Numbers prevailed - the beasts laid down their arms, and man exacted contributions from them. The democratic system was abandoned. Genoese, what would you next have chosen?

1ST AND 2D ARTISANS. A select government!

FIESCO. That was adopted. The business of the state was all arranged in separate departments. Wolves were the financiers, foxes their secretaries, doves presided in the criminal courts, and tigers in the courts of equity. The laws of chastity were regulated by goats; hares were the soldiers; lions and elephants had charge of the baggage. The ass was the ambassador of the empire, and the mole appointed inspector-general of the whole administration. Genoese, what think you of this wise distribution? Those whom the wolf did not devour the fox pillaged; whoever escaped from him was knocked down by the ass. The tiger murdered innocents, whilst robbers and assassins were pardoned by the doves. And at the last, when each had laid down his office, the mole declared that all were well discharged. The animals rebelled. "Let us," they cried unanimously, "choose a monarch endowed with strength and skill, and who has only one stomach to appease." And to one chief they all did homage. Genoese - to one - -but (rising and advancing majestically) - that one was - the lion!

ALL (shouting, and throwing up their hats). Bravo! Bravo! Well managed, Count Lavagna!

1ST ARTISAN. And Genoa shall follow that example. Genoa, also, has its lion!

FIESCO. Tell me not of that lion; but go home and think upon him. (The ARTISANS depart tumultuously.) It is as I would have it. The people and the senate are alike enraged against Doria; the people and the senate alike approve FIESCO. Hassan! Hassan! I must take advantage of this favorable gale. Hoa! Hassan! Hassan! I must augment their hatred - improve my influence. Hassan! Come hither! Whoreson of hell, come hither!


SCENE IX.

FIESCO, MOOR entering hastily.

MOOR. My feet are quite on fire with running. What is the matter now?

FIESCO. Hear my commands!

MOOR (submissively). Whither shall I run first?

FIESCO. I will excuse thy running this time. Thou shalt be dragged. Prepare thyself. I intend to publish thy attempted assassination, and deliver thee up in chains to the criminal tribunal.

MOOR (taking several steps backward). Sir! - that's contrary to agreement.

FIESCO. Be not alarmed. 'Tis but a farce. At this moment 'tis of the utmost consequence that Gianettino's attempt against my life should be made public. Thou shalt be tried before the criminal tribunal.

MOOR. Must I confess it, or deny?

FIESCO. Deny. They will put thee to the torture. Thou must hold out against the first degree. This, by the by, will serve to expiate thy real crime. At the second thou mayest confess.

MOOR (shaking his head with a look of apprehension). The devil is a sly rogue. Their worships might perhaps desire my company a little longer than I should wish; and, for sheer farce sake, I may be broken on the wheel.

FIESCO. Thou shalt escape unhurt, I give thee my honor as a nobleman. I shall request, as satisfaction, to have thy punishment left to me, and then pardon thee before the whole republic.

MOOR. Well - I agree to it. They will draw out my joints a little; but that will only make them the more flexible.

FIESCO. Then scratch this arm with thy dagger, till the blood flows. I will pretend that I have just now seized thee in fact. 'Tis well. (Hallooing violently). Murder! Murder! Guard the passages! Make fast the gates! (He drags the MOOR out by the throat; servants run across the stage hastily.)


SCENE X.

LEONORA and ROSA enter hastily, alarmed.

LEONORA. Murder! they cried - murder! - The noise came this way.

ROSA. Surely 'twas but a common tumult, such as happens every day in Genoa.

LEONORA. They cried murder! and I distinctly heard Fiesco's name. In