er
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?"