Don Corleone rose from behind the desk. His face was still impassive but his

voice rang like cold death. "We have known each other many years, you and I,"

he said to the undertaker, "but until this day you never came to me for counsel or

Help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for coffee

Though my wife is godmother to your only child. Let us be frank. You spurned my

friendship. You feared to be in my debt."

2 Bonasera murmured, "I didn't want to get into trouble."

3 The Don held up his hand. "No. Don't speak. You found America a paradise.

You had a good trade, you made a good living, you thought the world a harmless

Place where you could take your pleasure as you willed. You never armed

Yourself with true friends. After all, the police guarded you, there were courts of

Law, you and yours could come to no harm. You did not need Don Corleone. Very

Well. My feelings were wounded but I am not that sort of person who thrusts his

friendship on those who do not value it – on those who think me of little account."

The Don paused and gave the undertaker a polite, ironic smile. "Now you come to

Me and say, 'Don Corleone give me justice.' And you do not ask with respect. You

Do not offer me your friendship. You come into my home on the bridal day of my

daughter and you ask me to do murder and you say" – here the Don's voice

became a scornful mimicry – " 'I will pay you anything'. No, no, I am not offended,

but what have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?"

4 Bonasera cried out in his anguish and his fear, "America has been good to me.

I wanted to be a good citizen. I wanted my child to be American."

5 The Don clapped his hands together with decisive approval. "Well spoken.

Very fine. Then you have nothing to complain about. The judge has ruled.

 

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America has ruled. Bring your daughter flowers and a box of candy when you go

Visit her in the hospital. That will comfort her. Be content. After all, this is not a

Serious affair, the boys were young, high-spirited, and one of them is the son of a

Powerful politician. No, my dear Amerigo, you have always been honest. I must

Admit, though you spurned my friendship, that I would trust the given word of

Amerigo Bonasera more than I would any other man's. So give me your word that

You will put aside this madness. It is not American. Forgive. Forget. Life is full of

misfortunes."

The cruel and contemptuous irony with which all this was said, the controlled

Anger of the Don, reduced the poor undertaker to a quivering jelly but he spoke

up bravely again. "I ask you for justice."

7 Don Corleone said curtly, "The court gave you justice."

8 Bonasera shook his head stubbornly. "No. They gave the youths justice. They

did not give me justice."

The Don acknowledged this fine distinction with an approving nod, then asked,

"What is your justice?"

10 "An eye for an eye," Bonasera said.

11 "You asked for more," the Don said. "Your daughter is alive."

12 Bonasera said reluctantly, "Let them suffer as she suffers." The Don waited

For him to speak further. Bonasera screwed up the last of his courage and said,

"How much shall I pay you?" It was a despairing wail.

Don Corleone turned his back. It was a dismissal. Bonasera did not budge.

Finally, sighing, a good-hearted man who cannot remain angry with an erring

Friend, Don Corleone turned back to the undertaker, who was now as pale as one

of his corpses. Don Corleone was gentle, patient. "Why do you fear to give your

first allegiance to me?" he said. "You go to the law courts and wait for months.

You spend money on lawyers who know full well you are to be made a fool of.

You accept judgment from a judge who sells himself like the worst whore in the

Streets. Years gone by, when you needed money, you went to the banks and paid