s your wife deserved at least respect. How
bitter is the tongue of calumny. How the wives and maidens of Genoa now
look down upon me! "See," they say, "how droops the haughty one whose
vanity aspired to Fiesco!" Cruel punishment of my pride! I triumphed
over my whole sex when Fiesco led me to the altar----

FIESCO. Really, Madonna! All this is most surprising----

LEONORA (aside). Ah! he changes color--now I revive.

FIESCO. Wait only two days, countess--then judge my conduct----

LEONORA. To be sacrificed! Let me not speak it in thy chaste presence,
oh, thou virgin day! To be sacrificed to a shameless wanton! Look on
me, my husband! Ah, surely those eyes that make all Genoa tremble, must
hide themselves before a weeping woman----

FIESCO (extremely confused). No more, signora! No more----

LEONORA (with a melancholy look of reproach). To rend the heart of a
poor helpless woman! Oh, it is so worthy of the manly sex. Into his
arms I threw myself, and on his strength confidingly reposed my feminine
weakness. To him I trusted the heaven of my hopes. The generous man
bestowed it on a----

FIESCO (interrupting her, with vehemence). No, my Leonora! No!

LEONORA. My Leonora! Heaven, I thank thee! These were the angelic
sounds of love once more. I ought to hate thee, faithless man! And yet
I fondly grasp the shadow of thy tenderness. Hate! said I? Hate Fiesco?
Oh, believe it not! Thy perfidy may bid me die, but cannot bid me hate
thee. I did not know my heart----(The MOOR is heard approaching.)

FIESCO. Leonora! grant me one trifling favor.

LEONORA. Everything, Fiesco--but indifference.

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 pass