Operas Every Child Should Know

There lived, long ago, in Mantua, the Duke and his suite, and the only member of his household who dared do as he pleased was the Duke of Mantua's jester, Rigoletto. The more deformed a jester happened to be, the more he was valued in his profession, and Rigoletto was a very ugly little man, and as vindictive and wicked as he was ill-favoured in appearance. The only thing he truly loved was his daughter, Gilda. As for the Duke of Mantua, he loved for the time being almost any pretty woman who came his way.

On the night of a great ball at the Duke's palace he was thinking of his latest love, Gilda, the jester's daughter. The Duke usually confided his affairs to his servant Borsa, and the ball had no sooner begun than he began to speak with Borsa of his newest escapade. He declared that he had followed Gilda to the chapel where she went each day, and that he had made up his mind to speak with her the next time he saw her.

"Where does this pretty girl live, your Highness?"

"In an obscure and distant street where I have followed her each day. At night a queer-looking fellow is admitted, thus I am sure she has a lover. By the way, whom do you think that fellow to be?" the Duke asked with a laugh.

"Pray tell me."

"None other than Rigoletto!" the Duke cried, laughing more boisterously. "What do you think of that – the little hunchback!"

"And does he know that you have followed this sweetheart of his?"

"Not he. But look at all of these beautiful women," he exclaimed with delight as the company began to assemble from another room. "Alas, a man hardly knows whom to love among so many beauties," he sighed heavily. "But after all, I think it must be the Countess Ceprano! do you see her? Most beautiful!"

"Just the same I advise you not to let the Count Ceprano hear you!" Borsa advised.

Ah, in my heart, all are equally cherished,Every thought of exclusion within me I smother,None is dearer to me than another,In their turn, I for each one would die,

the Duke sang gaily, giving his friend and servant the wink.

Now, Rigoletto was in the habit of assisting the Duke in all his wrongdoing, and on this night the Duke confided to him his new enchantment – not Gilda, but the Countess Ceprano.

"The Countess has a jealous husband, Rigoletto; pray what do you advise?"

"Why, that you carry her off, to be sure; or else get rid of her husband the Count; maybe that would be the easiest way."

The Duke was wild enough to undertake almost anything, and so with the help of Rigoletto he was ready to undertake that. Hence, he made desperate love to the Countess all the evening, while the Count became more and more angry, and followed the pair continually about.

Even the courtiers were a good deal disgusted with the Duke's conduct, and they especially hated Rigoletto, who they thought was the real author of most of the Duke's misconduct.

"I don't know what we are coming to," Marullo exclaimed.

Yes, and 'tis here but as elsewhere!'Tis gambling and feasting, duelling and dancing;And love-making always, wherever he goes.To-day he's for pastime, besieging the countess,While we watch the husband and laugh at his woes!

This condition of things exactly suited the malevolent dwarf, however.

After the Count had followed the Duke and Countess about the palace half the night, the Duke came into the room in a rage.

"What am I to do with this Count? I'd like to fight him and kill him. He torments me to death. If you don't think out a way to rid me of him while I am making love to the Countess, I'll get some other fellow to make life gay for me, Rigoletto," he cried to the dwarf.

"Well, have I not told you – run off with her."

"Oh, yes, that's easy enough to say."

"It's easy enough to do. Try it to-night!"

"But what about her husband?"

"Oh, I don't know – let him be arrested."

"No, no, that won't do; he's of noble birth. You are going too far."

"All right! If he is too good to be arrested, then exile him," the dwarf obligingly arranges, showing thereby his notion of the fitness of things.

"No! that would hardly do, either," the Duke exclaimed impatiently.

"Well, cut off his head, then." Rigoletto thought that should be an ending dignified enough for any one. Meantime Ceprano overheard that pleasing conversation.

"They are black-hearted villains," he muttered aside.

"Cut off that head so unbending," the Duke exclaimed, looking at Ceprano, who was really a noble-appearing aristocrat.

"Aye – we have discovered its use. Cut it off; that will make it pliant," the charming dwarf said, facetiously; and that being a bit too much for any noble to put up with, the Count drew his sword.

"Enough! you ribald hunchback," he cried; at which the Duke became uneasy.

"Yes, come here, you jesting fool!" he called to Rigoletto, trying to turn the matter off. "We've had enough of your jests. We are tired of you. I advise you not to impose too much on our good humour, because some of this maliciousness may come back at you."

But the Count was not so easily to be pacified. He turned to the other nobles and asked them to help him revenge himself; but the Duke of Mantua was very powerful, and few were willing to displease him, however much they disapproved of his conduct.

"What can we do?" several of them murmured, and meanwhile the dwarf was trying aside to secure help in carrying off the Countess for the Duke. That was really too audacious, and all of the nobles finally sided with the Count, privately agreeing to help him ruin the dwarf, since they dared not directly oppose the Duke.

While the excitement of this general quarrel was at its height, the dancers all poured in from the other room and began to sing gaily of life's pleasures, which were about all that made life worth living. In the very midst of this revelry some one without made a great noise and demanded instant admittance. The Duke recognized the voice of Monterone, a powerful noble, whom he had wronged and cried out angrily:

"He shall not come in." As a fact, Rigoletto had carried off Monterone's daughter for the Duke but a little time before.

"Make way there," the old Count insisted, more enraged than ever, and forcing his way past the attendants, he entered the room. He was an old and proud man and the nobles present were bound to give heed to him.

"Yes, Sir Duke, it is I. You know my voice! I would it were as loud as thunder!" he cried.

"Ah! I will deign to give you audience," Rigoletto spoke up, mimicking the Duke's voice in a manner insulting to Monterone.

He continued to speak insultingly to the old man, using the Duke's manner and voice, till the Count cried out against the shameful action.

"Is this thy justice? Thou darest deride me? Then no place shall hide thee from my curse. I will pursue thee as long as I live, day and night. I will recall to you how you have taken my daughter away from me, and have disgraced us. You may cut off my head, but still I'll appear to thee and fill thee with fear. And thou, thou viper," he cried to Rigoletto, "be thou accursed!"

"Don't curse me," the dwarf exclaimed, turning pale. He was superstitious, and the fearful words of the wronged father sounded ominous. The scene became terrifying to the whole company and they cried out.

"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.

Then while the Duke was giving her a false name, and trying to reassure her, they heard voices outside the garden wall. The Duke recognized the voice of Borsa and Ceprano. They seemed to be searching for some house, and again, quite terror-stricken, Gilda started to rush within.

Giovanna met her. "I am afraid it is your father returned. The young gentleman must hasten away," she whispered under her breath, and immediately the Duke went out by another way, through the house. Then Gilda watched off, down the road, and while she was watching, Borsa, Ceprano, and other dare-devils of the Duke's court stole into the garden. Ceprano, who had heard that Gilda was some one beloved by Rigoletto, although it was not known that she was his daughter, meant to carry Gilda off, since he owed Rigoletto a grudge. Having seen the Duke disappear, Gilda had gone within again, and as the kidnappers were about to enter, they heard Rigoletto coming.

It was then their opportunity to plan a great and tragic joke upon the wretched dwarf.

"Listen to this!" Borsa whispered. "Let us tell him we are here to carry off the Countess Ceprano, who has fled here for safety from us. Then when we have blind-folded him, we will make him help to carry off his own sweetheart." Just as that infamous plan was formed, in came Rigoletto. He ran against one of the men in the dark.

"What's this?" he cried.

"H'st! Be silent!"

"Who spoke?" he unconsciously lowered his voice.

"Marullo, you idiot."

"The darkness blinds me, and I cannot see you."

"H'st, Rigoletto! We're for an adventure. We are going to carry off the Countess Ceprano: she has fled here from us. We had the Duke's key to get into her place." He holds out the key which the dwarf felt in the darkness and found the Duke's crest upon it.

"Her palace is on the other side – "

"She fled here, we tell thee. We are stealing her for the Duke. Put on this mask, hurry!" Marullo tied on a mask and put the jester at the foot of a ladder which they had run up against the terrace.

"Now hold the ladder till one of us gets over and unfastens the door." Rigoletto, somewhat dazed, did mechanically what he was told, and the men entered the house.

"Ah, I shall have a fine revenge on that scamp," Ceprano muttered, looking toward Rigoletto through the dark.

"Sh! Be silent," Borsa whispered. "They will bring the girl out muffled so he can't hear her scream. Rigoletto will never hear a sound. No joke of his ever matched the one we are preparing for him." At that moment, Gilda was brought out, her mouth tied with her scarf; but as they were bearing her away, she got the scarf loose and uttered a piercing shriek, and the scarf fell near Rigoletto.

"Father, help, help!" she cried, but the voice seemed to come from afar off. Rigoletto only just heard. He could not collect his senses.

"Here, what does this mean? Aren't you nearly through?" he cried, angrily tearing off the mask and also the handkerchief that bound his ears. "What cry was that? I thought I heard a cry!" He was becoming mad with fear. All the conditions seemed so strange.

"Hello there!" But no one answered; all the men were gone. Then he snatched a lantern one of the men had left near, and suddenly he saw Gilda's scarf. He stared at it, rushed like a madman into the house and dragged out the nurse, tried to shriek "Gilda," but overcome with horror he fell senseless.

ACT II

Now if the Duke of Mantua was ever angry in his life, he was angry when the curtain rose on the second act. There he was, pacing about a sumptuous apartment, fuming with rage.

"If ever I loved any one in my life, it was that girl!" he cried. "And heaven knows what can have become of her." As a matter of fact, the Duke had some misgiving after he had left Gilda in the garden, and, later, he had returned. But he had found the place deserted and could get no news of her from that hour.

"Oh, but I would defend thee, if thou art in trouble," he cried; and in the midst of his excitement Marullo, Borsa, and Ceprano and other courtiers rushed into the room. All were fairly bursting with news of the escapade of the night before.

"Oh, Duke! Oh, Lord! What do you think? We have carried off the jester's sweetheart!"

"What?" The Duke stared and then gave a great cry. "Speak, speak. What have you done?"

"The jester's sweetheart."

"Where is she?" the Duke asked, hardly daring to trust his voice.

"Here, in this house."

"What do you say?"

"Yes, we brought her here."

"Oh, joy!" the Duke exclaimed; then aside: "She is near me," and forgetting all about his friends he went out excitedly.

"Why did he turn away from us?" the men asked each other. "He has enjoyed our adventures before now." They were a little uneasy and were conferring together when Rigoletto came in. He was a pitiful-looking fellow, worn with a night of horror and weeping, but he came singing:

"La, la, la, la, la," – pretending not to be agitated. "Pray what is the news?" he asked off-hand, seeking not to betray his agony of mind, till he should have learned something about his daughter.

"Pleasant morning, Rigoletto!" the men answered, mockingly, and glancing with grins at each other. "Pray what is the news?" Rigoletto, half dead with anxiety, moved about the room looking for some sign of Gilda.

"Lord! See him fishing about in every corner for her? He thinks to find her under the table," one of them whispered, and the men burst out laughing.

Then Rigoletto discovered a handkerchief on the floor and snatched it, hoping to find a clue, but it was not hers. Just then a page ran in to say that the Duchess was asking for the Duke.

"He is still in bed," one of the men answered, watching the effect of that upon Rigoletto, who was listening to every word.

"He cannot be," the page persisted. "Didn't he just pass me on the stairs?"

"All right, then! He has gone a-hunting," and they laughed.

"With no escort? Hardly. Come, don't think me a fool. Where's the Duke? The Duchess wishes to speak with him."

"It is you who are a dull fool," the men exclaimed, seeming to carry on the conversation aside, but taking good care that Rigoletto should hear. "The Duke cannot be disturbed – do you understand? He is with a lady."

"Ah! Villains!" Rigoletto shrieked, turning upon them like a tiger. "My daughter! You have my daughter – here in this palace. Give me my daughter!" The men all rushed after him as he made for the door.

"Your daughter? My God! Your daughter?" They were horrified at their own doings, hearing it was Rigoletto's daughter.

"Stand back! Don't think to keep me from my daughter." As they still held him tight, hardly knowing what then to do, he sank down in despair. He entreated help of the different courtiers whom he had so often and maliciously misused. Then he wept.

"Oh, have pity on me, my lords! Let me go to my daughter." While everybody was hesitating in consternation, Gilda, having got free, rushed from the next room, and into his arms. She screamed hysterically that she had been carried off by the Duke. Rigoletto nearly foamed at the mouth with rage, and at last the men became truly afraid of him.

"Go, all of you!" he stammered, no longer able to speak plainly. "And if the Duke comes into this room I will kill him." So the courtiers withdrew. The palace was in an uproar.

"It is a mistake to jest with a madman," Marullo whispered to Borsa as they went out. Father and daughter were left alone. After looking at Gilda a moment, trying to recover himself, Rigoletto whispered.

"Now, my child; they have gone. Speak!" Gilda throwing herself into her father's arms, told of her meetings with the Duke, and of how she had grown to love him, and finally of how in the night she had been carried away.

As they were in each other's arms the guard entered with old Count Monterone, who was being taken to his cell. As he was being led across the room, Rigoletto's wild eyes fixed themselves in horror upon the man whose curse had cursed him. The Count paused before the Duke's picture and cursed it.

"I shall be the instrument to fulfill thy curse, old man," Rigoletto whispered as the Count passed out, and he made a frightful oath of vengeance against the Duke of Mantua. His words frightened Gilda, because she dearly loved the Duke even though she believed he had caused her to be carried off. As the jester raised his hand to take the dreadful oath to kill, Gilda fell upon her knees beside him.

ACT III

Rigoletto and Gilda had fled from the palace, for the dwarf meant to hide his daughter away forever; and in the darkness they were hurrying on their way to an old inn, which could be seen near at hand. A swift, rushing river ran back of the inn, and the innkeeper could be seen inside his house sitting at a table polishing an old belt. It was the villainous old cut-throat, Sparafucile, who had stopped Rigoletto on his way home two nights before, offering to kill whomever Rigoletto would for a sum of money.

Gilda was very weary and she and her father were about to stop at the inn for the night. They were speaking in the road: