voluptuous Julia until he learns of her attempt to poison his wife?
These are queries to which the play gives no very clear answer. So far
as the conspiracy is concerned the whole affair with Julia is rather
badly motivated.

Still more dubious, from a rational point of view, is Fiesco's relation
to the Moor. That a man having large political designs requiring secrecy
and fidelity should, on the spur of the moment, choose as his
confidential agent a venal scoundrel who has just tried to murder him,
is, to say the least, a little improbable. Here Schiller was evidently
trying to Shaksperize again; trying, that is, to assert the poet's
sovereign lordship over the petty bonds of Philistine logic. The Moor's
frank exposition of the professional ethics of rascality, the dash with
which he does his work, his ubiquitous serviceableness, and his rogue's
humor make him a picturesque character and account for his having become
on the stage the most popular figure in the piece; but that Fiesco
should be willing to trust himself and his cause to such a scamp, and
that such remarkable results should be achieved by the black man's
kaleidoscopic activity, brings into the play an element of buffoonery
that injures it on the serious side. The daring play of master and man
excites a certain interest in their game, but it is impossible to care
very much who wins. From a dramaturgic point of view, however, the Moor
is a very useful invention, since Fiesco is thereby enabled to direct
the whole conspiracy from his palace, and at the same time, in the
person of his lieutenant, to be in every part of the city. Thus the
action is concentrated and changes of scene are avoided.

As a portrayer of female character the author of 'Fiesco' has clearly
made some progress since his first lame attempt in 'The Robbers', but
the improvement is by no means dazzling. Both Leonora and Julia are