It is reported that the alcade marched up to the count with great dignity, but when he saw who it was--a real living count--he fell back without any show of dignity whatever. And to a certain question that the doctor put to Figaro, this was all the reply:--“Chink, chink.” The question--simply how it was that Figaro could turn against him and betray him: “Chink, chink.” An argument without reply. The doctor was not a bad doctor--and as he could do himself no good by being angry--and as the bridegroom was a count--why he forgave them. And as this chronicle is all about the loves of two people who are now happily married, and about a guardian who is a guardian no longer, why, obviously, this chronicle is ended. RIGOLETTO. (VERDI.) This tells of a hunch-back only, who wears two masks, The one is mocking jest--the second godlike love, And if he wears them both too mixedly--chide not-- But dole him and his woes some pity. Now fall to. CHAPTER I. In the sixteenth century, kings and dukes still kept their fools. The Duke of Mantua had his--a poor hunch-back, whom they called Rigoletto. He was as witty as any fool in France or Italy; and he was an honest man in this--that he despised the courtiers, who bowed low before the tyranny of the duke, who broke up their families as a child would toys, and quite as fearlessly. And if, as the tale goes on, you find he had some human love in him, remember he is a hunch-back, and give him double praise. The duke, whose whole life was a panorama of gallantry, despised his conquests; and, being handsome, believed no woman could withstand him. He was as heartless as he was handsome, and he had no affection for a living soul, unless, indeed, for Rigoletto, whom he loved for his power of satirizing the courtiers, who loved Rigoletto accordingly. This fool, Rigoletto, was superstitious; moreover, he had a secret, which it was the hope of his life to keep from that terrible court; for a fool, a jester, a hunch-back, may have loves and secrets like other men. The duke had discovered a beautiful girl, whom he followed daily as she went to prayers. For weeks he followed her each day, and yet all he learned was that she lived in a mean house in a mean street, and that every day the same unknown man visited her. He still knew no more; when, on a certain night, he gave a grand ball at his palace. A happy, happy ball, where each man trembled as the giver of the feast turned eyes upon his wife or daughter! A happy, happy, fête! He was paying the Countess Ceprano great attention, when Rigoletto entered the hall, and saw the husband of the lady jealously watching them. “What troubles you count?” said the fool, smiling maliciously. Rigoletto turned away gibing at the courtiers, crossed the hall, and was gone.