FIESCO (engaged about her bosom). Now see—this I prudently conceal. The senses should always be blind messengers, and not know the secret compact between nature and fancy.
JULIA. That is trifling.
FIESCO. Not at all; for, consider, the prettiest novelty loses all its zest when once become familiar. Our senses are but the rabble of our inward republic. The noble live by them, but elevate themselves above their low, degenerate tastes. (Having adjusted her toilet, he leads her to a glass.) Now, by my honor! this must on the morrow be Genoa's fashion—(politely)—may I have the honor of leading you so abroad, countess?
JULIA. The cunning flatterer! How artfully he lays his plans to ensnare me. No! I have a headache, and will stay at home.
FIESCO. Pardon me, countess. You may be so cruel, but surely you will not. To-day a company of Florentine comedians arrive at my palace. Most of the Genoese ladies will be present this evening at their performance, and I am uncertain whom to place in the chief box without offending others. There is but one expedient. (Making a low bow.) If you would condescend, signora——
JULIA (blushing, retires to a side apartment). Laura!
GIANETTINO (approaching FIESCO). Count, you remember an unpleasant circumstance——
FIESCO (interrupting him). 'Tis my wish, prince, we should both forget it. The actions of men are regulated by their knowledge of each other. It is my fault that you knew me so imperfectly.
GIANETTINO. I shall never think of it without craving your pardon from my inmost soul——
FIESCO. Nor I without forgiving you from my heart's core. (JULIA returns, her dress a little altered.)