Greatness, Fiesco! Alas! thy towering spirit ill accords with the fond wishes of my heart. Should fortune favor thy attempt--shouldst thou obtain dominion--alas! I then shall be but the more wretched. Condemned to misery shouldst thou fail--if thou succeed, to misery still greater. Here is no choice but evil. Unless he gain the ducal power, Fiesco perishes--if I embrace the duke I lose my husband. (FIESCO: I understand you not.) Ah! my Fiesco, in the stormy atmosphere that surrounds a throne the tender plant of love must perish. The heart of man, e'en were that heart Fiesco's, is not vast enough for two all-powerful idols--idols so hostile to each other. Love has tears, and can sympathize with tears. Ambition has eyes of stone, from which no drop of tenderness can e'er distil. Love has but one favored object, and is indifferent to all the world beside. Ambition, with insatiable hunger, rages amid the spoil of nature, and changes the immense world into one dark and horrid prison-house. Love paints in every desert an elysium. And when thou wouldest recline upon my bosom, the cares of empires, or rebellious vassals, would fright away repose. If I should throw myself into thy arms, thy despot fears would hear a murderer rushing forth to strike thee, and urge thy trembling flight through all the palace. Nay, black suspicion would at last o'erwhelm domestic concord. If thy Leonora's tenderness should offer thee a refreshing draught, thou wouldst with horror push away the goblet, and call it poison---- FIESCO (starting). Leonora, cease! These thoughts are dreadful.

Leonora Monologue from Fiesco; or, the Genoese Conspiracy: A Tragedy

Rehearse Leonora's monologue