s not that a dying groan?
Ah, they surround him! At Fiesco's breast they point their fatal
muskets--at my breast they point them. Hold! hold! It is my husband!
(Throws her arms up in agony.)

ARABELLA. For heaven's sake, my lady!

LEONORA (with wild enthusiasm, calling on all sides). O my Fiesco! my
Fiesco! His firmest friends desert him. The faith of rebels is unsteady
(shuddering). Rebels! Heaven? Is Fiesco, then, a chief of rebels?

ARABELLA. No, signora. He is the great deliverer of Genoa.

LEONORA (emphatically). Ha! that would indeed be glorious! And shall
Leonora tremble?--shall the bravest republican be wedded to the most
timid woman? Go, Arabella! When men contend for empires even a woman's
soul may kindle into valor. (Drums again heard.) I'll rush among the
combatants.

ARABELLA (clasping her hands together). All gracious heaven!

LEONORA. Softly! What strikes my foot? Here is a hat--and here a
mantle! A sword, too! (she lifts it up)--a heavy sword, my Arabella; but
I can carry it, and the sword shall not disgrace its bearer. (The
alarm-bell sounds.)

ARABELLA. Hark! hark! How terrible it sounds yonder, from the tower of
the Dominicans! God have mercy on us!

LEONORA (enthusiastically). Rather say, how delightful! In the majestic
sound of this alarm-bell my Fiesco speaks to Genoa. (Drums are heard
louder.) Ha! did flutes so sweetly strike my ear. Even these drums are
animated by Fiesco. My heart beats higher. All Genoa is roused; the
very mercenaries follow his name with transport--and shall his wife be
fearful? (Alarm-bells from three other towers.) No--my hero shall
embrace a heroine. My Brutus clasp within his arms a Roman wife. I'll
be his Portia. (Putting on GIANETTINO'S hat and throwing his scarlet
mantle round her.)

ARABELLA. My gracious lady, how wildly do you rave. (Alarm-bells and
drums are heard.)

LEONORA. Cold-blooded wretch; canst thou see and hear all this, and yet
not rave? The very stones are ready to weep that they have not feet to
run and join Fiesco. These palaces upbraid the builder, who had laid
their foundations so firmly in the earth that they cannot fly to join
Fiesco. The very shores, were they able, would forsake their office in
order to follow his glorious banner, though by so doing they abandoned
Genoa to the mercy of the ocean. What might shake death himself out of
his leaden sleep has not power to rouse thy courage? Away! I'll find my
way alone.

ARABELLA. Great G