MASK. A bloody answer will be demanded of you, touching a certain tear.

FIESCO. What tear?

MASK. A tear shed by the Countess of Lavagna. I am acquainted with that
lady, and demand to know how she has merited to be sacrificed to a
worthless woman?

FIESCO. I understand you now; but let me ask who 'tis that offers so
strange a challenge?

MASK. It is the same that once adored the lady Zibo, and yielded her to
Fiesco.

FIESCO. Scipio Bourgognino!

BOURGOGNINO (unmasking). And who now stands here to vindicate his honor,
that yielded to a rival base enough to tyrannize over innocence.

FIESCO (embraces him with ardor). Noble youth! thanks to the sufferings
of my consort, which have drawn forth the manly feelings of your soul; I
admire your generous indignation--but I refuse your challenge.

BOURGOGNINO (stepping back). Does Fiesco tremble to encounter the first
efforts of my sword?

FIESCO. No, Bourgognino! against a nation's power combined I would
boldly venture, but not against you. The fire of your valor is endeared
to me by a most lovely object--the will deserves a laurel, but the deed