"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.
"Father, there is often something mysterious in thy actions. You have never told me of my mother. Who was my mother, dear father?"
Ah why recall in misery, What tempests dread have moved me? An angel once companion'd me, An angel in pity lov'd me]
"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.