FIESCO (angrily). It were as easy to tear Italy from the bosom of the ocean as to shake this stubborn enthusiast from his prejudices.
VERRINA. Well mayst thou talk of tearing: thou hast torn the republic from Doria, as a lamb from the jaws of the wolf, only that thou mightest devour it thyself. But enough of this—just tell me, duke, what crime the poor wretch committed whom you ordered to be hung up at the church of the Jesuits?
FIESCO. The scoundrel set fire to the city.
VERRINA. Yet the scoundrel left the laws untouched.
FIESCO. Verrina presumes upon my friendship.
VERRINA. Away with friendship! I tell thee I no longer love thee. I swear to thee that I hate thee—hate thee like the serpent of Paradise, that first disturbed the happiness of creation, and brought upon mankind unbounded sorrow. Hear me, Fiesco, I speak to thee not as a subject to his master, not as a friend to his friend, but as man to man—(with bitterness and vehemence). Thou hast committed a crime against the majesty of the eternal God in permitting virtue to lead thy hands to wickedness, and in suffering the patriots of Genoa to violate their country. Fiesco, had thy villany deceived me also!—Fiesco, by all the horrors of eternity! with my own hands I would have strangled myself, and on thy head spurted the venom of my departing soul. A princely crime may break the scale of human justice, but thou hast insulted heaven, and the last judgment will decide the cause. (Fiesco remains speechless, looking at him with astonishment.) Do not attempt to answer me. Now we have done. (After walking several times up and down.) Duke of Genoa, in the vessels of yesterday's tyrant, I have seen a miserable race who, at every stroke of their oars, ruminate upon their long-expiated guilt, and weep their tears into the ocean, which, like a rich man, is too proud to count them. A good prince begins his reign with acts of mercy. Wilt thou release the galley-slaves?
FIESCO (sharply). Let them be the first fruits of my tyranny. Go, and announce to them their deliverance.
VERRINA. You will enjoy but half the pleasure unless you see their happiness. Perform this deed thyself. The great are seldom witnesses of the evils which they cause. And shall they, too, do good by stealth and in obscurity? Methinks the duke is not too great to sympathize with a beggar.
FIESCO. Man, thou art dreadful; yet I know not why I must follow thee. (Both go toward the sea.)
VERRINA (stops, much affected). But once more embrace me, Fiesco. Here is no one by to see Verrina weep, or to behold a prince give way to feeling—(he embraces him eagerly). Surely never beat two greater hearts together—we loved each other so fraternally—(weeping violently on Fiasco's neck). Fiesco! Fiesco! Thou makest a void in my bosom which all mankind, thrice numbered, could not fill up.