"You just take this sack and mend it," Sparafucile said, throwing an old sack toward his sister.
"What for?" she asked suspiciously.
"It is to hold your fine young man, up there—when I shall throw him in the river." Upon hearing that, Gilda sank down upon the stone step.
"See here! If it were not for the money you are to get, you would let him go, I know," Maddalena urged.
"Well, no—because you see already I have received half my pay, and the fellow I am doing the job for is a nasty customer, and, to tell the truth, I shouldn't dare let the Duke go.
"Then listen to my plan: The hunchback will presently return with the rest of the money." Gilda learned then to her horror that it was her father who had bargained for the Duke's assassination. "When the jester comes, kill him instead and take his money—all of it—and throw him into the river, and let this young man above go." At that Gilda could not longer support herself and she fell down upon the ground.
"No, I won't do it," the fellow said doggedly. "I agreed to kill the man upstairs—and there must be honour among rogues. It wouldn't be right to kill the one I hadn't bargained for. I make it a rule never to kill my employer," the rascal returned piously.
"I'll call him, then, and tell him to defend himself," the girl cried, running toward the stairs.
"Hold on there," Sparafucile cried; "I'll tell you—I agree to kill the first man who enters this house between now and midnight, in the Duke's stead, if that will suit you. Then we shall put him in the sack, and the hunchback will not know the difference. Will that suit you?" he repeated.
"That will do, and see that you keep your word or I will arouse the young man, I promise you."