man. This must be one of them. He who is
denied the joys of heaven can scarce be doomed to bear the pains of hell.
This dread infliction would be even more. God be praised! It must be
so. And this is naught but the chimera of a disordered brain.

SCENE XIII.

The former--ARABELLA enters weeping.

ARABELLA. Let them kill me! What have I now to dread? Have pity on me,
Genoese. 'Twas here I left my dearest mistress, and nowhere can I find
her.

FIESCO (approaching her--with a low and trembling voice.) Was Leonora
thy mistress?

ARABELLA (with pleasure). Are you there, my most gracious and dear good
lord? Be not displeased with us. We could no longer restrain her.

FIESCO (in alarm). Restrain her! Wretch! From what?

ARABELLA. From following----

FIESCO (violently). Ha! From following what?

ARABELLA. The tumult----

FIESCO. What was her dress?

ARABELLA. A Scarlet mantle.

FIESCO (in a transport of rage). Get thee to the abyss of hell! The
mantle?

ARABELLA. Lay here upon the ground.

SOME OF THE CONSPIRATORS (talking apart). 'Twas here that Gianettino was
killed.

FIESCO (ready to faint, to ARABELLA). Thy mistress is found--(ARABELLA
advances anxiously--FIESCO casts his eyes round the whole circle--then,
with a faltering voice)--'Tis true--'Tis true--And I am the instrument of
this horrid deed. (Madly.) Back! back! ye human forms! Oh! (gnashing
his teeth wildly, and looking up toward heaven) had I but this created
orb between my teeth--I feel as though I could tear the universe to
fragments, till nature's face was hideous as the pain that gnaws my soul!
(To the others, that stand around, trembling.) See, how they stand
aghast there, miserable creatures! blessing themselves and rejoicing that
they are not as I am. I alone feel the blow. (Wildly.) I!--why I? Why
not these as well? Why is my sorrow denied the balm of being shared with
others?

CALCAGNO (timidly). Most gracious duke!

FIESCO (rushes on hint with a look of fiendlike joy). Ha! Welcome!
Here, Heaven be thanked, is one whom the same thunderbolt has struck!
(Pressing CALCAGNO furiously in his arms.) Brother of my sorrows!
Welcome to your share of destruction! She's dead. Didst thou not also
love her? (Forcing him toward the dead body.) Behold her and despair!
She's dead. (Fixing his eyes earnestly on one part of the stage.) Oh,
that I could stand upon the brink of the infernal gulf, and view below
all hell's variety of torments!--cou