FIESCO. No. You forgot the cloak.
MOOR. Ah! I was wrong in pointing out the thief.
FIESCO. The tumult comes nearer. Hark! 'Tis not the sound of approbation. Quick! Unlock the gates; I guess the matter. Doria has been rash. The state balances upon a needle's point. There has assuredly been some disturbance at the senate-house.
MOOR (at the window). What's here! They're coming down the street of Balbi—a crowd of many thousands—the halberds glitter—ah, swords too! Halloo! Senators! They come this way.
FIESCO. Sedition is on foot. Hasten amongst them; mention my name; persuade them to come hither. (Exit Moon hastily.) What reason, laboring like a careful ant, with difficulty scrapes together, the wind of accident collects in one short moment.
SCENE V.
FIESCO, ZENTURIONE, ZIBO, and ASSERATO, rushing in.
ZIBO. Count, impute it to our anger that we enter thus unannounced.
ZENTURIONE. I have been mortally affronted by the duke's nephew in the face of the whole senate.
ASSERATO. Doria has trampled on the golden book of which each noble Genoese is a leaf.