The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
22
the Don, reduced the poor undertaker to a quivering jelly but he spoke up bravely again. 
“I ask you for justice.” 
Don Corleone said curtly, “The court gave you justice.” 
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?” 
“An eye for an eye,” Bonasera said. 
“You asked for more,” the Don said. “Your daughter is alive.” 
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 ruinous interest, waited hat in hand 
like a beggar while they sniffed around, poked their noses up your very asshole to make 
sure you could pay them back.” The Don paused, his voice became sterner. 
“But if you had come to me, my purse would have been yours. If you had come to me for 
justice those scum who ruined your daughter would be weeping bitter tears this day. If 
by some misfortune an honest man like yourself made enemies they would become my 
enemies”– the Don raised his arm, finger pointing at Bonasera– “and then, believe me, 
they would fear you.” 
Bonasera bowed his head and murmured in a strangled voice, “Be my friend. I accept.” 
Don Corleone put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Good,” he said, “you shall have your 
justice. Some day, and that day may never come, I will call upon you to do me a service 
in return. Until that day, consider this justice a gift from my wife, your daughter’s 
godmother.” 

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