No More Learning

MOOR. Men like me, sir, receive no favor without acknowledgment. We
know what honor is.

FIESCO. The honor of cut-throats?

MOOR. Which is, perhaps, more to be relied on than that of your men of
character. They break their oaths made in the name of God. We keep ours
pledged to the devil.

FIESCO. Thou art an amusing villain.

MOOR. I rejoice to meet your approbation. Try me; you will find in me a
man who is a thorough master of his profession. Examine me; I can show
my testimonials of villany from every guild of rogues--from the lowest to
the highest.

FIESCO. Indeed! (seating himself. ) There are laws and systems then even
among thieves. What canst thou tell me of the lowest class?

MOOR. Oh, sir, they are petty villains, mere pick-pockets. They are a
miserable set. Their trade never produces a man of genius; 'tis confined
to the whip and workhouse--and at most can lead but to the gallows.

FIESCO. A charming prospect! I should like to hear something of a
superior class.

MOOR. The next are spies and informers--tools of importance to the
great, who from their secret information derive their own supposed
omniscience. These villains insinuate themselves into the souls of men
like leeches; they draw poison from the heart, and spit it forth against
the very source from whence it came.

FIESCO. I understand thee--go on----

MOOR. Then come the conspirators, villains that deal in poison, and
bravoes that rush upon their victims from some secret covert. Cowards
they often are, but yet fellows that sell their souls to the devil as the
fees of their apprenticeship. The hand of justice binds their limbs to
the rack or plants their cunning heads on spikes--this is the third
class.

FIESCO. But tell me! When comes thy own?

MOOR. Patience, my lord--that is the very point I'm coming to--I have
already passed through all the stages that I mentioned: my genius soon
soared above their limits. 'Twas but last night I performed my
masterpiece in the third; this evening I attempted the fourth, and proved
myself a bungler.

FIESCO. And how do you describe that class?

MOOR (with energy). They are men who seek their prey within four walls,
cutting their way through every danger. They strike at once, and, by
their first salute, save him whom they approach the trouble of returning
thanks for a second. Between ourselves they are called the express
couriers of hell: and when Beelzebub is hungry they want but a wink, and
he gets his mutton warm.

FIESCO. Thou art an hardened villain--such a tool I want. Give me thy
hand--thou shalt serve me.

MOOR. Jest or earnest?

FIESCO. In full earnest--and I'll pay thee yearly a 'thousand sequins.

MOOR. Done, Lavagna! I am yours. Away with common business--employ me
in whate'er you will. I'll be your setter or your bloodhound--your fox,
your viper--your pimp, or executioner. I'm prepared for all commissions
--except honest ones; in those I am as stupid as a block.

FIESCO. Fear not! I would not set the wolf to guard the lamb. Go thou
through Genoa to-morrow and sound the temper of the people. Narrowly
inquire what they think of the government, and of the house of Doria--
what of me, my debaucheries, and romantic passion. Flood their brains
with wine, until the sentiments of the heart flow over. Here's money--
lavish it among the manufacturers----

MOOR. Sir!

FIESCO. Be not afraid--no honesty is in the case. Go, collect what help
thou canst. To-morrow I will hear thy report.

[Exit.

MOOR (following). Rely on me. It is now four o'clock in the morning, by
eight to-morrow you shall hear as much news as twice seventy spies can
furnish.

[Exit.



SCENE X. --An apartment in the house of VERRINA.

BERTHA on a couch, supporting her head on her hand--

VERRINA enters with a look of dejection.

BERTHA (starts up frightened). Heavens! He is here!

VERRINA (stops, looking at her with surprise). My daughter affrighted at
her father!

BERTHA. Fly! fly! or let me fly! Father, your sight is dreadful to me!

VERRINA. Dreadful to my child! --my only child!

BERTHA (looking at him mournfully). Oh! you must seek another. I am no
more your daughter.

VERRINA. What, does my tenderness distress you?

BERTHA. It weighs me down to the earth.

VERRINA. How, my daughter! do you receive me thus? Formerly, when I
came home, my heart o'erburdened with sorrows, my Bertha came running
towards me, and chased them away with her smiles. Come, embrace me, my
daughter! Reclined upon thy glowing bosom, my heart, when chilled by the
sufferings of my country, shall grow warm again. Oh, my child! this day
I have closed my account with the joys of this world, and thou alone
(sighing heavily) remainest to me.

BERTHA (casting a long and earnest look at him). Wretched father!

VERRINA (eagerly embracing her). Bertha! my only child! Bertha! my last
remaining hope! The liberty of Genoa is lost--Fiesco is lost--and thou
(pressing her more strongly, with a look of despair) mayest be
dishonored!

BERTHA (tearing herself from him). Great God! You know, then----

VERRINA (trembling). What?

BERTHA. My virgin honor----

VERRINA (raging). What?

BERTHA. Last night----

VERRINA (furiously. ) Speak! What!

BERTHA. Force. (Sinks down upon the side of the sofa. )

VERRINA (after a long pause, with a hollow voice). One word more, my
daughter--thy last! Who was it?

BERTHA. Alas, what an angry deathlike paleness! Great God, support me!
How his words falter! His whole frame trembles!

VERRINA. I cannot comprehend it. Tell me, my daughter--who?

BERTHA. Compose yourself, my best, my dearest father!

VERRINA (ready to faint). For God's sake--who?

BERTHA. A mask----

VERRINA (steps back, thoughtfully). No! That cannot be! --the thought is
idle--(smiling to himself ). What a fool am I to think that all the
poison of my life can flow but from one source! (Firmly addressing
himself to BERTHA. ) What was his stature, less than mine or taller?

BERTHA. Taller.

VERRINA (eagerly). His hair? Black, and curled?

BERTHA. As black as jet and curled?

VERRINA (retiring from her in great emotion). O God! my brain! my brain!
His voice?

BERTHA. Was deep and harsh.

VERRINA (impetuously). What color was--No! I'll hear no more! 'His
cloak! What color?

BERTHA. I think his cloak was green.

VERRINA (covering his face with his hands, falls on the couch). No more.
This can be nothing but a dream!

BERTHA (wringing her hands). Merciful heaven! Is this my father?

VERRINA (after a pause, with a forced smile). Right! It serves thee
right--coward Verrina! The villain broke into the sanctuary of the laws.
This did not rouse thee. Then he violated the sanctuary of thy honor
(starting up). Quick! Nicolo! Bring balls and powder--but stay--my
sword were better. (To BERTHA. ) Say thy prayers! Ah! what am I going
to do?

BERTHA. Father, you make me tremble----

VERRINA. Come, sit by me, Bertha! (in a solemn manner. ) Tell me,
Bertha, what did that hoary-headed Roman, when his daughter--like you--
how can I speak it! fell a prey to ignominy?
Tell me, Bertha, what said
Virginius to his dishonored daughter?

BERTHA (shuddering). I know not.

VERRINA. Foolish girl! He said nothing--but (rising hastily and
snatching up a sword) he seized an instrument of death----

BERTHA (terrified, rushes into his arms). Great God! What would you do,
my father?

VERRINA (throwing away the sword). No! There is still justice left in
Genoa.



SCENE XI.

SACCO, CALCAGNO, the former.

CALCAGNO. Verrina, quick! prepare! to-day begins the election week of
the republic. Let us early to the Senate House to choose the new
senators. The streets are full of people, you will undoubtedly accompany
us (ironically) to behold the triumph of our liberty.

SACCO (to CALCAGNO). But what do I see? A naked sword! Verrina staring
wildly! Bertha in tears!

CALCAGNO. By heavens, it is so. Sacco! some strange event has happened
here.

VERRINA (placing two chairs). Be seated.

SACCO. Your looks, Verrina, fill us with apprehension.

CALCAGNO. I never saw you thus before--Bertha is in tears, or your grief
would have seemed to presage our country's ruin.

VERRINA. Ruin! Pray sit down. (They both seat themselves. )

CALCAGNO. My friend, I conjure you----

VERRINA. Listen to me.

CALCAGNO (to SACCO). I have sad misgivings.

VERRINA. Genoese! you both know the antiquity of my family. Your
ancestors were vassals to my own. My forefathers fought the battles of
the state, their wives were patterns of virtue. Honor was our sole
inheritance, descending unspotted from the father to the son. Can any
one deny it?

SACCO. No.

CALCAGNO. No one, by the God of heaven!

VERRINA. I am the last of my family. My wife has long been dead. This
daughter is all she left me. You are witnesses, my friends, how I have
brought her up. Can anyone accuse me of neglect?

CALCAGNO. No. Your daughter is a bright example to her sex.

VERRINA. I am old, my friends. On this one daughter all my hopes were
placed. Should I lose her, my race becomes extinct. (After a pause,
with a solemn voice). I have lost her. My family is dishonored.

SACCO and CALCAGNO. Forbid it, heaven! (BERTHA on the couch, appears
much affected. )

VERRINA. No. Despair not, daughter! These men are just and brave. If
they feel thy wrongs they will expiate them with blood. Be not
astonished, friends! He who tramples upon Genoa may easily overcome a
helpless female.

SACCO and CALCAGNO (starting up with emotion). Gianettino Doria!

BERTHA (with a shriek, seeing BOURGOGNINO enter). Cover me, walls,
beneath your ruins! My Scipio!



SCENE XII.

BOURGOGNINO--the former.

BOURGOGNINO (with ardor). Rejoice, my love! I bring good tidings.
Noble Verrina, my heaven now depends upon a word from you. I have long
loved your daughter, but never dared to ask her hand, because my whole
fortune was intrusted to the treacherous sea. My ships have just now
reached the harbor laden with valuable cargoes. Now I am rich. Bestow
your Bertha on me--I will make her happy. (BERTHA hides her face--a
profound pause. )

VERRINA. What, youth! Wouldst thou mix thy heart's pure tide with a
polluted stream?

BOURGOGNINO (clasps his hand to his sword, but suddenly draws it back).
'Twas her father said it.

VERRINA. No--every rascal in Italy will say it. Are you contented with
the leavings of other men's repasts?

BOURGOGNINO. Old man, do not make me desperate.

CALCAGNO. Bourgognino! he speaks the truth.

BOURGOGNINO (enraged, rushing towards BERTHA). The truth? Has the girl
then mocked me?

CALCAGNO. No! no! Bourgognino. The girl is spotless as an angel.

BOURGOGNINO (astonished). By my soul's happiness, I comprehend it not!
Spotless, yet dishonored! They look in silence on each other. Some
horrid crime hangs on their trembling tongues. I conjure you, friends,
mock not thus my reason. Is she pure? Is she truly so? Who answers for
her?

VERRINA. My child is guiltless.

BOURGOGNINO. What! Violence! (Snatches the sword from the ground. ) Be
all the sins of earth upon my bead if I avenge her not! Where is the
spoiler?

VERRINA. Seek him in the plunderer of Genoa! (BOURGOGNINO struck with
astonishment--VERRINA walks up and down the room in deep thought, then
stops. ) If rightly I can trace thy counsels, O eternal Providence! it is
thy will to make my daughter the instrument of Genoa's deliverance.
(Approaching her slowly, takes the mourning crape from his arm, and
proceeds in a solemn manner. ) Before the heart's blood of Doria shall
wash away this foul stain from thy honor no beam of daylight shall shine
upon these cheeks. Till then (throwing the crape over her) be blind! (A
pause--the rest look upon him with silent astonishment; he continues
solemnly, his hand upon BERTHA'S head. ) Cursed be the air that shall
breathe on thee! Cursed the sleep that shall refresh thee! Cursed every
human step that shall come to sooth thy misery! Down, into the lowest
vault beneath my house! There whine, and cry aloud! (pausing with inward
horror. ) Be thy life painful as the tortures of the writhing worm--
agonizing as the stubborn conflict between existence and annihilation.
This curse lie on thee till Gianettino shall have heaved forth his dying
breath. If he escape his punishment, then mayest thou drag thy load of
misery throughout the endless circle of eternity!

[A deep silence--horror is marked on the countenances of all
present. VERRINA casts a scrutinizing look at each of them.

BOURGOGNINO. Inhuman father! What is it thou hast done? Why pour forth
this horrible and monstrous curse against thy guiltless daughter?

VERRINA. Youth, thou say'st true! --it is most horrible. Now who among
you will stand forth and prate still of patience and delay? My
daughter's fate is linked with that of Genoa. I sacrifice the affections
of a father to the duties of a citizen. Who among us is so much a coward
as to hesitate in the salvation of his country, when this poor guiltless
being must pay for his timidity with endless sufferings? By heavens,
'twas not a madman's speech! I have sworn an oath, and till Doria lie in
the agonies of death I will show no mercy to my child. No--not though,
like an executioner, I should invent unheard-of torments for her, or with
my own hands rend her innocent frame piecemeal on the barbarous rack.
You shudder--you stare at me with ghastly faces. Once more, Scipio--I
keep her as a hostage for the tyrant's death. Upon this precious thread
do I suspend thy duty, my own, and yours (to SACCO and CALCAGNO). The
tyrant of Genoa falls, or Bertha must despair--I retract not.

BOURGOGNINO (throwing himself at BERTHA'S feet). He shall fall--shall
fall a victim to Genoa. I will as surely sheathe this sword in Doria's
heart as upon thy lips I will imprint the bridal kiss. (Rises. )

VERRINA. Ye couple, the first that ever owed their union to the Furies,
join hands! Thou wilt sheathe thy sword in Doria's heart? Take her! she
is thine!

CALCAGNO (kneeling). Here kneels another citizen of Genoa and lays his
faithful sword 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.