Operas Every Child Should Know

"Away with him," the Duke demanded, angrily. "Am I to have the gaiety of my guests spoiled because of this old dotard? Take him to prison." The attendants rushed in and seized Monterone, while he turned again upon the dwarf and cursed him roundly. Not only did the dwarf shrink back, the whole company became affrighted, while the old man was silenced at last by the guards, and Rigoletto hurried, panic-stricken, from the palace.

Scene II

As Rigoletto hastened away from the palace with the curses ringing in his ears he could not rid himself of the terror they inspired; probably because he was so bad a man and knew that he deserved them. He was in a street very near to his home, when he was stopped by a forbidding-looking fellow.

"It was a father's curse he laid upon me," Rigoletto was muttering, thinking of his own daughter, the only thing in the world that he loved.

"Ho, there," said the fellow in the road, calling softly.

"Oh, don't stop me," Rigoletto answered with impatience. "I have nothing worth getting." He lived in a time of bandits and highwaymen, and, since he had nothing to be robbed of, was not much frightened. He was far more afraid of the Count's curse.

"No matter, good sir; that is not exactly what I stopped you for. You look to me like a man who might have enemies; or who might wish to employ me."

"What for, pray?"

Sparafucile laughed shortly. "Well, you are not a very benevolent-looking chap, and I'd murder my brother for money," he whispered, grinning at the crooked, odious-looking Rigoletto.

Rigoletto eyed him. The villain had spoken almost as if he knew the dwarf's fear.

"I believe you," he muttered, looking steadily at the cut-throat. "You look it, every inch. What do you charge to kill a noble?"

"More than I charge for a churl, by double."

"And how do you want your money?"

"Half before I do the deed, and the other half when he is dead."

"You're a demon," Rigoletto murmured; and certainly he himself was bad enough to be able to judge of a rogue when he saw one. "Aren't you afraid of being discovered?"

"No, when it is dangerous to kill in the city, I do it in my own house. There in the gloom of night, far away from help, it is easy enough. No one ever finds it out."

"You are the wickedest man I know – not excepting myself," said Rigoletto, contemplating the wretch with curiosity. "Tell me how you lure people to your home?"

"Easy enough. I have a handsome sister there. Nobody ever thinks of resisting her. She gets them to come; I do the rest."

"I follow you."

"Then not a sound is heard. The knife is a silent fellow. Now what do you think? – that I can serve you?"

"No. I don't like the notion." Rigoletto was not half as daring of wicked deeds as he had been an hour before; the curse was still ringing in his ears.

"You have enemies, I judge," Sparafucile urged, shrewdly. "You'll regret not accepting my services."

"Nay. Be off. No, stay a moment! If I ever should need thee, where could I address thee?"

"You won't have to address me; you'll find me here each night."

"Well, be off, be off!" As a fact Rigoletto didn't much care to be seen with one of his own kind. But he looked after the coupe-jarret uneasily. "After all, we are equals, that fellow and I. He stabs in the dark – and so do I. I with my malicious tongue, he with his knife. Bah! I am all undone. I hear that old man's curse yet. How I hate them, all those nobles who hire me to laugh for them and to make them laugh! I haven't even a right to know sadness. It is my business in life, because I am born crooked, to make sport for these rats of fellows who are no better than I am. I am hired to bear the burden of their crimes. I wish they all had but one neck; I'd strangle them with one hand." Overwhelmed with the exciting scenes of the night, he turned toward the gate in his garden wall. As he opened it, Gilda ran out gaily to meet him. To her he was only the loving and tender father. She waited for his coming all day, and had no pleasure till she saw him.

"Oh, in this abode, my nature changes," the crooked little man murmured as he folded his daughter in his arms.

"Near thee, my daughter, I find all the joy on earth that is left me," he said, trying to control his emotion.

"You love me, father?"

"Aye! – thou art my only comfort."

"Father, there is often something mysterious in thy actions. You have never told me of my mother. Who was my mother, dear father?"

[Listen]

Ah why recall in misery,
What tempests dread have moved me?
An angel once companion'd me,
An angel in pity lov'd me

he sang.

"Hideous, an outcast, penniless, she blessed my lonely years. Ah! I lost her, I lost her. Death wafted her soul to heaven! – But thou art left me," he said tenderly, beginning to weep.

"There, father, say no more. My questions have made thee sad. I shall always be with thee to make thee happy. But, father, I do not know that you are what you tell me. What is your real name? Is it Rigoletto?"

"No matter, child, do not question. I am feared and hated by my enemies. Let that suffice."

"But ever since we came to this place three months ago, you have forbidden me to go abroad. Let me go into the city, father, and see the sights."

"Never! You must not ask it." He was frightened at the very thought. If men like the Duke, his master, should see such a beautiful girl as Gilda, they would surely rob him of her. At that moment the nurse, Giovanna, came from the house and Rigoletto asked her if the garden gate was ever left open while he was away. The woman told him falsely that the gate was always closed.

"Ah, Giovanna, I pray you watch over my daughter when I am away," he cried, and turned suddenly toward the gate upon hearing a noise. "Some one is without there, now!" he cried, running in the direction of the sound. He threw the gate wide, but saw no one, because the Duke – who it was – had stepped aside into the shadow, and then, while Rigoletto was without, looking up the road, he slipped within and hid behind a tree, throwing a purse to Giovanna to bribe her to silence. Giovanna snatched it and hid it in the folds of her gown, showing plainly that she was not to be trusted, as Rigoletto trusted her, with his precious daughter. There was the man whom Rigoletto had most cause to fear, who ran off with every pretty girl he saw, and he had now found the prettiest of them all in the dwarf's daughter.

"Have you noticed any one following Gilda?" the dwarf asked, returning to the garden and fastening the gate behind him. "If harm should come to my daughter it would surely kill me," he sobbed, taking Gilda in his arms. At that the Duke, listening behind the tree, was amazed. So! Gilda was no sweetheart of his jester; but was his daughter instead!

"Now," said Rigoletto, "I must be off, but I caution you once more; let no one in."

"What, not even the great Duke if he should come to inquire for you?"

"The Duke least of all," the dwarf answered in a new panic. And kissing Gilda he went out again.

No sooner had he gone than Gilda turned tearfully to her nurse.

"Giovanna, my heart feels guilty."

"What hast thou done?" the nurse asked, indifferently, remembering the purse of the Duke which she carried in her bosom.

"Ne'er told my father of the youth whom I have learned to love and who has followed me."

"Why should he know it? Would he not prevent it? If you wish that – "

"Nay, nay," Gilda replied, fearfully; and in her loneliness and distress she confided to Giovanna how much she loved the Duke. Mantua, behind the tree, heard all, and, motioning Giovanna to go away, he came toward Gilda. Giovanna went at once into the house, but Gilda cried to her to come back, as the sudden appearance of the Duke frightened her, after the scene she had just had with her father.