Courtiers, vile, damned race,
For what price will you sell my wellbeing?
You think that gold justifies any action,
But my daughter is a priceless treasure.
Give her back to me . . . or instead, though unarmed,
Here’s this hand for you to pierce cruelly:
There’s nothing on earth that man fears
When defending the honor of his children.
That door, assassins, open it.
Ah! You all are against me!
Well then, I’ll cry, Marullo . . . sir,
You have a kind soul, a good heart,
Tell me where they have hidden her.
Is it there? . . . Is it true? . . . No answer! . . . alas! . . .
My lords . . . forgiveness, pity . . .
Give back the old man’s daughter . . .
To return her costs you nothing,
This child means the world to me.
Pity, pity, lords, pity.
Paolo Gavanelli sings the role of Rigoletto.