Several other nobles and ladies.

GIANETTINO (boisterously). Bravo! Bravo! These wines glide down
charmingly. The dancers perform a merveille. Go, one of you, and
publish it throughout Genoa that I am in good humor, and that every
one may enjoy himself. By my ruling star this shall be marked as a
red-letter day in the calendar, and underneath be written,--"This day was
Prince Doria merry." (The guests lift their glasses to their mouths. A
general toast of "The Republic." Sound of trumpets.) The Republic?
(Throwing his glass violently on the ground.) There lie its fragments.
(Three black masks suddenly rise and collect about GIANETTINO.)

LOMELLINO (supporting GIANETTINO on his arm). My lord, you lately spoke
of a young girl whom you saw in the church of St. Lorenzo.

GIANETTINO. I did, my lad! and I must make her acquaintance.

LOMELLINO. That I can manage for your grace.

GIANETTINO (with vehemence). Can you? Can you? Lomellino, you were a
candidate for the procuratorship. You shall have it.

LOMELLINO. Gracious prince, it is the second dignity in the state; more
than threescore noblemen seek it, and all of them more wealthy and
honorable than your grace's humble servant.

GIANETTINO (indignantly). By the name of Doria! You shall be
procurator. (The three masks come forward). What talk you of nobility
in Genoa? Let them all throw their ancestry and honors into the scale,
one hair from the white beard of my old uncle will make it kick the beam.
It is my will that you be procurator, and that is tantamount to the votes
of the whole senate.

LOMELLINO (in a low voice). The damsel is the only daughter of one
Verrina.

GIANETTINO. The girl is pretty, and, in spite of all the devils in hell,
I must possess her.

LOMELLINO. What, my lord! the only child of the most obstinate of our
republicans?

GIANETTINO. To hell with your republicans! Shall my passion be thwarted
by the anger of a vassal? 'Tis as vain as to expect the tower should
fall when the boys pelt it with mussel-shells. (The three black masks
step nearer, with great emotion.) What! Has the Duke Andreas gained his
scars in battle for their wives and children, only that his nephew should
court the favor of these vagabond republicans! By the name of Doria they
shall swallow this fancy of mine, or I will plant a gallows over the
bones of my uncle, on which their Genoese liberty shall kick itself to
death. (The three masks step back in disgust.)

LOMELLINO