The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 95

FIESCO. Well, well (significantly). Till Genoa be two days older, inquire not! condemn me not! (Leads her politely to another apartment.)

SCENE IV.

FIESCO; the MOOR, entering hastily.

FIESCO. Whence come you thus out of breath?

MOOR. Quick, my lord!

FIESCO. Has anything run into the net?

MOOR. Read this letter. Am I really here? Methinks Genoa is become shorter by twelve streets, or else my legs have grown that much longer!

You change color? Yes, yes--they play at cards for heads, and yours is the chief stake. How do you like it?

FIESCO (throws the letter on the table with horror). Thou woolly-pated rascal! How camest thou by that letter?

MOOR. Much in the same way as your grace will come by the republic. An express was sent with it towards Levanto. I smelt out the game; waylaid the fellow in a narrow pa.s.s, despatched the fox, and brought the poultry hither----

FIESCO. His blood be on thy head! As for the letter, 'tis not to be paid with gold.

MOOR. Yet I will be content with silver for it--(seriously, and with a look of importance). Count of Lavagna! 'twas but the other day I sought your life. To-day (pointing to the letter) I have preserved it. Now I think his lordship and the scoundrel are even. My further service is an act of friendship--(presents another letter) number two!

FIESCO (receives it with astonishment). Art thou mad?

MOOR. Number two--(with an arrogant air--his arms akimbo) the lion has not acted foolishly in pardoning the mouse. Ah! 'twas a deed of policy.

Who else could e'er have gnawed the net with which he was surrounded?

Now, sir, how like you that?

FIESCO. Fellow, how many devils hast thou in pay?

MOOR. But one, sir, at your service; and he is in your grace's keeping.

FIESCO. What! Doria's own signature! Whence dost thou bring this paper?

MOOR. Fresh from the hands of my Diana. I went to her last night, tempted her with your charming words, and still more charming sequins.

The last prevailed. She bade me call early in the morning. Lomellino had been there as you predicted, and paid the toll to his contraband heaven with this deposit.

FIESCO (indignantly). Oh, these despicable woman-slaves! They would govern kingdoms, and cannot keep a secret from a harlot. By these papers I learn that Doria and his party have formed a plot to murder me, with eleven senators, and to place Gianettino on the throne.

MOOR. Even so--and that upon the morning of the ducal election, the third of this month.

FIESCO (vehemently). The night of our enterprise shall smother that morning in its very birth. Speed thee, Ha.s.san. My affairs are ripe.

Collect our fellows. We will take b.l.o.o.d.y lead of our adversaries. Be active, Ha.s.san!

MOOR. I have a budget full of news beside. Two thousand soldiers are safely smuggled into the city. I've lodged them with the Capuchins, where not even a prying sunbeam can espy them. They burn with eagerness to see their leader. They are fine fellows.

FIESCO. Each head of them shall yield thee a ducat. Is there no talk about my galleys?

MOOR. Oh, I've a pleasant story of them, my lord. Above four hundred adventurers, whom the peace 'twixt France and Spain has left without employ, besought my people to recommend them to your grace to fight against the infidels. I have appointed them to meet this evening in the palace-court.

FIESCO (pleased). I could almost embrace thee, rascal. A masterly stroke! Four hundred, said'st thou? Genoa is in my power. Four hundred crowns are thine----

MOOR (with an air of confidence). Eh, Fiesco? We two will pull the state in pieces, and sweep away the laws as with a besom. You know not how many hearty fellows I have among the garrison--lads that I can reckon on as surely as on a trip to h.e.l.l. Now I've so laid my plans that at each gate we have among the guard at least six of our creatures, who will be enough to overcome the others by persuasion or by wine. If you wish to risk a blow to-night, you'll find the sentinels all drenched with liquor.

FIESCO. Peace, fellow! Hitherto I have moved the vast machine alone; shall I now, at the very goal, be put to shame by the greatest rascal under the sun? Here's my hand upon it, fellow--whate'er the Count remains indebted to thee, the Duke shall pay.

MOOR. And here, too, is a note from the Countess Imperiali. She beckoned to me from her window, when I went up received me graciously, and asked me ironically if the Countess of Lavagna had not been lately troubled with the spleen. Does your grace, said I, inquire but for one person?

FIESCO (having read the letter throws it aside). Well said. What answer made she?

MOOR. She answered, that she still lamented the fate of the poor bereaved widow--that she was willing to give her satisfaction, and meant to forbid your grace's attentions.

FIESCO (with a sneer). Which of themselves may possibly cease sometime before the day of judgment. Is that all thy business, Ha.s.san?

MOOR (ironically). My lord, the affairs of the ladies are next to those of state.

FIESCO. Without a doubt, and these especially. But for what purpose are these papers?

MOOR. To remove one plague by another. These powders the signora gave me, to mix one every day with your wife's chocolate.

FIESCO (starting). Gave thee?

MOOR. Donna Julia, Countess Imperiali.

FIESCO (s.n.a.t.c.hing them from him eagerly). If thou liest, rascal, I'll hang thee up alive in irons at the weatherc.o.c.k of the Lorenzo tower, where the wind shall whirl thee nine times round with every blast. The powders?

MOOR (impatiently). I am to give your wife mixed with her chocolate.

Such were the orders of Donna Julia Imperiali.

FIESCO (enraged). Monster! monster! This lovely creature! Is there room for so much h.e.l.l within a female bosom? And I forgot to thank thee, heavenly Providence, that has rendered it abortive--abortive through a greater devil. Wondrous are thy ways! (To the MOOR.) Swear to me to obey, and keep this secret.

MOOR. Very well. The latter I can afford--she paid me ready money.

FIESCO. This note invites me to her. I'll be with you, madam!--and find means to lure you hither, too. Now haste thee, with all thy speed, and call together the conspirators.

MOOR. This order I antic.i.p.ated, and therefore at my own risk appointed every one to come at ten o'clock precisely.

FIESCO. I hear the sound of footsteps. They are here. Fellow, thy villany deserves a gallows of its own, on which no son of Adam was ever yet suspended. Wait in the ante-chamber till I call for thee.

MOOR. The Moor has done his work--the Moor may go.

[Exit.

SCENE V.