Fiesco monologue (Act 5) — Fiesco; or, the Genoese Conspiracy: A Tragedy

(exhausted, and looking mournfully round the circle) Yes, by heavens! They who feared not to draw their swords against their prince are shedding tears! (With dejection.) Speak! Do you weep over this havoc caused by treacherous death, or do you bewail the fall of your leader's spirit? (Turning toward the dead body in an affecting posture.) Where iron-hearted warriors were melted into tears, Fiesco uttered only imprecations of despair. (Kneels down, weeping, by her side.) Pardon me, Leonora--the decrees of heaven are immutable; they yield not to mortal anger. (With a melancholy tenderness.) O Leonora, years ago my fancy painted that triumphant hour when I should present thee to Genoa as her duchess--methought I saw the lovely blush that tinged thy modest cheek--the timid heaving of thy beauteous bosom beneath the snowy gauze-- I heard the gentle murmurs of thy voice, which died away in rapture! (More lively.) Ah, how intoxicating to my soul were the proud acclamations of the people! How did my love rejoice to see its triumph marked in the sinking envy of its rivals! Leonora! The hour which should confirm these hopes is come. Thy Fiesco is Duke of Genoa--and yet the meanest beggar would not exchange his poverty for my greatness and my sufferings. (More affected.) He has a wife to share his troubles--with whom can I share my splendor? (He weeps bitterly, and throws himself on the dead body. Compassion marked upon the countenances of all.)