d 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 discov