The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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he took her for a drive. He had a masculine friend with him. They made her drink 
whiskey and then they tried to take advantage of her. She resisted. She kept her honor. 
They beat her. Like an animal. When I went to the hospital she had two black eyes. Her 
nose was broken. Her jaw was shattered. They had to wire it together. She wept through 
her pain. ‘Father, Father, why did they do it? Why did they do this to me?’ And I wept.” 
Bonasera could not speak further, he was weeping now though his voice had not 
betrayed his emotion. 
Don Corleone, as if against his will, made a gesture of sympathy and Bonasera went on, 
his voice human with suffering. “Why did I weep? She was the light of my life, an 
affectionate daughter. A beautiful girl. She trusted people and now she will never trust 
them again. She will never be beautiful again.” He was trembling, his sallow face flushed 
an ugly dark red. 
“I went to the police like a good American. The two boys were arrested. They were 
brought to trial. The evidence was overwhelming and they pleaded guilty. The judge 
sentenced them to three years in prison and suspended the sentence. They went free 
that very day. I stood in the courtroom like a fool and those bastards smiled at me. And 
then I said to my wife: ‘We must go to Don Corleone for justice.’ ” 
The Don had bowed his head to show respect for the man’s grief. But when he spoke, 
the words were cold with offended dignity. “Why did you go to the police? Why didn’t 
you come to me at the beginning of this affair?” 
Bonasera muttered almost inaudibly, “What do you want of me? Tell me what you wish. 
But do what I beg you to do.” There was something almost insolent in his words. 
Don Corleone said gravely, “And what is that?” 
Bonasera glanced at Hagen and Sonny Corleone and shook his head. The Don, still 
sitting at Hagen’s desk, inclined his body toward the undertaker. Bonasera hesitated, 
then bent down and put his lips so close to the Don’s hairy ear that they touched. Don 
Corleone listened like a priest in the confessional, gazing away into the distance, 
impassive, remote. They stood so for a long moment until Bonasera finished whispering 
and straightened to his full height. The Don looked up gravely at Bonasera. Bonasera, 
his face flushed, returned the stare unflinchingly. 
Finally the Don spoke. “That I cannot do. You are being carried away.” 
Bonasera said loudly, clearly, “I will pay you anything you ask.” On hearing this, Hagen 
flinched, a nervous flick of his head. Sonny Corleone folded his arms, smiled 

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