before the feet of innocence. As surely may Calcagno find the way to heaven as this steel shall find its way to Gianettino's heart! (Rises.)
SACCO (kneeling). Last, but not less determined, Raffaelle Sacco kneels. If this bright steel unlock not the prison doors of Bertha, mayest thou, my Saviour, shut thine ear against my dying prayers! (Rises.)
VERRINA (with a calm look). Through me Genoa thanks you. Now go, my daughter; rejoice to be the mighty sacrifice for thy country!
BOURGOGNINO (embracing her as she is departing). Go! confide in God-and Bourgognino. The same day shall give freedom to Bertha and to Genoa.
[BERTHA retires.
SCENE XIII.
The former-without BERTHA.
CALCAGNO. Genoese, before we take another step, one word--
VERRINA. I guess what you would say.
CALCAGNO. Will four patriots alone be sufficient to destroy this mighty hydra? Shall we not stir up the people to rebellion, or draw the nobles in to join our party?
VERRINA. I understand you. Now hear my advice; I have long engaged a painter who has been exerting all his skill to paint the fall of Appius Claudius. Fiesco is an adorer of the arts, and soon warmed by ennobling scenes. We will send this picture to his house, and will be present when he contemplates it. Perhaps the sight may rouse his dormant spirit. Perhaps--
BOURGOGNINO. No more of him. Increase the danger, not the sharers in it. So valor bids. Long have I felt a something within my breast that nothing would appease. What 'twas now bursts upon me (springing up with enthusiasm); 'twas a tyrant!
[The scene closes.
ACT II.
SCENE I.-An Ante-chamber in the Palace of FIESCO.
LEONORA and ARABELLA.
ARABELLA. No, no, you were mistaken: your eyes were blinded by jealousy.
LEONORA. It was Julia to the life. Seek not to persuade me otherwise. My picture was suspended by a sky-blue ribbon: this was flame-colored. My doom is fixed irrevocably.
SCENE II.
The former and JULIA.
JULIA (entering in an affected manner). The Count offered me his palace to see the procession to the senate-house. The time will be tedious. You will entertain me, madam, while the chocolate is preparing.
[ARABELLA goes out, and returns soon afterwards.
LEONORA. Do you wish that I should invite company to meet you?
JULIA. Ridiculous! As if I should come hither in search of company. You will amuse me, madam (walking up and down, and admiring herself ), if you are able, madam. At any rate I shall lose nothing.
ARABELLA (sarcastically). Your splendid dress alone will be the loser. Only think how cruel it is to deprive the eager eyes of our young beaux of such a treat! Ah! and the glitter of your sparkling jewels on which it almost wounds the sight to look. Good heavens! You seem to have plundered the whole ocean of its pearls.
JULIA (before a glass). You are not accustomed to such things, miss! But hark ye, miss! pray has your mistress also hired your tongue? Madam, 'tis fine, indeed, to permit your domestics thus to address your guests.
LEONORA. 'Tis my misfortune, signora, that my want of spirits prevents me from enjoying the pleasure of your company.
JULIA. An ugly fault that, to be dull and spiritless. Be active, sprightly, witty! Yours is not the way to attach your husband to you.
LEONORA. I know but one way, Countess. Let yours ever be the sympathetic medium.
JULIA (pretending not to mind her). How you dress, madam! For shame! Pay more attention to your personal appearance! Have recourse to art where nature has been unkind. Put a little paint on those cheeks, which look so pale with spleen. Poor creature! Your puny face will never find a bidder.
LEONORA (in a lively manner to ARABELLA). Congratulate me, girl. It is impossible I can have lost my Fiesco; or, if I have, the loss must be but trifling. (The chocolate is brought, ARABELLA pours it out.)
JULIA. Do you talk of losing Fiesco? Good God! How could you ever conceive the ambitious idea of possessing him? Why, my child, aspire to such a height? A height where you cannot but be seen, and must come into comparison with others. Indeed, my dear, he was a knave or a fool who joined you with FIESCO. (Taking her hand with a look of compassion.) Poor soul! The man who is received in the assemblies of fashionable life could never be a suitable match for you. (She takes a dish of chocolate.)
LEONORA (smiling at ARABELLA). If he were, he would not wish to mix with such assemblies.
JULIA. The Count is handsome, fashionable, elegant. He is so fortunate as to have formed connections with people of rank. He is lively and high-spirited. Now, when he severs himself from these circles of elegance and refinement, and returns home warm with their impressions, what does he meet? His wife receives him with a commonplace tenderness; damps his fire with an insipid, chilling kiss, and measures out her attentions to him with a niggardly economy. Poor husband! Here, a blooming beauty smiles upon him-there he is nauseated by a peevish sensibility. Signora, signora, for God's sake consider, if he have not lost his understanding, which will he choose?
LEONORA (offering her a cup of chocolate). You, madam-if he have lost it.
JULIA. Good! This sting shall return into your own bosom. Tremble for your mockery! But before you tremble-blush!
LEONORA. Do you then know what it is to blush, signora? But why not? 'Tis a toilet trick.
JULIA. Oh, see! This poor creature must be provoked if one would draw from her a spark of wit. Well-let it pass this time. Madam, you were bitter. Give me your hand in token of reconciliation.
LEONORA (offering her hand with a significant look). Countess, my anger ne'er shall trouble you.
JULIA (offering her hand). Generous, indeed! Yet may I not be so, too? (Maliciously.) Countess, do you not think I must love that person whose image I bear constantly about me?
LEONORA (blushing and confused). What do you say? Let me hope the conclusion is too hasty.
JULIA. I think so, too. The heart waits not the guidance of the senses -real sentiment needs no breastwork of outward ornament.
LEONORA. Heavens! Where did you learn such a truth?
JULIA. 'Twas in mere compassion that I spoke it; for observe, madam, the reverse is no less certain. Such is Fiesco's love for you. (Gives her the picture, laughing maliciously.)
LEONORA (with extreme indignation). My picture! Given to you! (Throws herself into a chair, much affected.) Cruel, Fiesco!
JULIA. Have I retaliated? Have I? Now, madam, have you any other sting to wound me with? (Goes to side scene.) My carriage! My object is gained. (To LEONORA, patting her cheek.) Be comforted, my
