Chapter VIII: Act III

Scene.--_The front yard of a tavern. Tavern to the right; trees to the left. In the back a door, and a small low wall which closes in the yard. In the distance the roof of Notre Dame with its towers and its spire. A dark silhouette of old Paris outlines itself against the red sunset. The river Seine is at the base of the picture_

SCENE I

_Phoebus, Viscount de Gif, M. de Morlaix, M. de Chevreuse, and many other friends of Phoebus, seated at tables, are drinking, and singing; afterward Don Claude Frollo_

CHORUS.

Be propitious and well-inclined,
Our Lady of Saint Lo,
To him who only water hates
Of all things here below!

PHOEBUS.

Give to the brave
In every place
A well-filled cellar,
A pretty face.
Happy fellow!
Help him hold
Dainty women,
Wine that's old.

If a beauty
Of cold mien
Be unwilling,
'Tis sometimes seen,
He jokes with her
With merry winks,
Then he sings,
Then he drinks!

The day goes by.
Or drunk or not,
He soon embraces
His Toinotte;
Then ferocious
He goes to bed
In a cannon's mouth,
And sleeps like lead!

And his soul,
Which often seems
To mix up women
With his dreams,
Is contented if the wind,
With its come and go,
Rocks the canvas of his tent
Gently to and fro!

CHORUS.

Be propitious and well inclined,
Our Lady of Saint Lo!
To him who only water hates
Of all things here below.

[_Enter Claude Frollo, who seats himself at a table at some distance from Phoebus, and appears at first to observe nothing that passes around him._

VISCOUNT DE GIF (_to Phoebus_).

That pretty gypsy, What are you doing with her?

[_Claude Frollo makes a movement of attention._

PHOEBUS.

To-night, in an hour, I have a meeting with her.

ALL.

Truly?

PHOEBUS.

Truly!

[_The agitation of Claude Frollo increases._

VISCOUNT DE GIF.

In one hour?

PHOEBUS.

In one moment!
Oh, love! supremest rapture!
To feel one heart holds two!
To own the woman that one loves--
Be slave and conqueror too!
To have her soul; to have her charms,
Her song which fills with bliss;
To see her sweet eyes wet with tears,
To dry them with a kiss.

[_While he sings, the others drink and strike their glasses._

CHORUS.

'Tis a rapture supreme,
Whatever one thinks,
To drink to one's love,
And to love what one drinks!

PHOEBUS.

Friends, the prettiest of all,
A grace divine,
Oh, wonder, ecstasy!
Friends, she is mine!

CLAUDE FROLLO (_aside_).

I bind myself to hell;
Misfortune on you dwell!

PHOEBUS.

Pleasure awaits us;
Exhaust without remorse
The better part of life,
Love's precious intercourse!
What matter if one dies,
When joy has passed away,
I'd give a century for an hour,
Eternity for a day.

[_The curfew rings; the friends of Phoebus arise from the table, replace their swords, their caps, their cloaks, and prepare to depart._

CHORUS.

Phoebus, the hour is come;
It is the curfew-bell:
Hurry to your beloved;
God's blessing on you dwell!

PHOEBUS.

At last the hour is come;
It is the curfew-bell.
I go to my beloved;
God's blessing on her dwell!

[_The friends of Phoebus go out._

SCENE II

_Claude Frollo, Phoebus. Claude Frollo stops Phoebus as he is about to go out_

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Captain!

PHOEBUS.

Who is this man?

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Listen to me?

PHOEBUS.

Make haste!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Do you know the name of the one Who awaits you at the meeting to-night?

PHOEBUS.

By my life, it is my beauty!
The one I love and who loves me.
My song-bird, my dancing gypsy,
My Esmeralda, it is she!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

It is death!

PHOEBUS.

Friend! First, you are an idiot; Second, go to the devil!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Listen!

PHOEBUS.

What do I care?

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Phoebus, if you cross the threshold of that door--

PHOEBUS.

You are mad!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

You are dead!
Tremble! One of the gypsies she!
No law protects those awful places.
There love's a masquerade for hate,
Death lies concealed in their embraces.

PHOEBUS (_laughing_).

My dear sir, readjust your cape,
Return unto your fools' retreat!
Strange they allow you to escape!
May Esculapius, Jupiter, the Devil,
Thither conduct your straying feet!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Truly they are faithless women;
Believe that the report speaks true.
Darkness strange and deep surrounds them;
Phoebus! there death waits for you!

[_Claude Frollo's earnestness seems to trouble Phoebus, who looks at his interrogator with anxiety._

PHOEBUS.

He astounds me!
Ah, he wounds me,
In spite of myself, with doubt!
This city great
Is full of hate,
And treachery is all about!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

I astound him,
And I wound him,
In spite of himself, with doubt.
The fool, he fears,
And sees and hears
Nothing but treachery about.

Believe me--my lord, avoid the siren Who lures you to destruction. More than one gypsy in her rage Has stabbed a heart palpitating with love.

[_Phoebus, whom he tries to drag along, recovers himself and pushes him off._

PHOEBUS.

Have I become a fool?
Gypsy, Jewess, or Moor,
The love that questions what she be
Is love most base and poor.
The fateful hour is come,
Unto my love I fly!
If death be but as sweet as she,
It will be fine to die!

CLAUDE FROLLO (_holding him_).

Consider! A gypsy!
Your folly is great.
How dare you thus rashly
Trifle with fate!
Oh, dread the false creature
Who waits in the gloom,
And do not thus wildly
Rush to your doom.

[_Phoebus exits quickly, in spite of Claude Frollo. Claude Frollo stands gloomy and undecided for a moment; then follows Phoebus._

SCENE III

_A chamber. In the background, a window which opens on the river. Clopin Frouillefou enters, bearing a torch. He is followed by several men, to whom he makes a preconcerted sign, and places them in a dark corner, in which they disappear; then he returns to the door and signals to some one to come up. Don Claude appears_

CLOPIN (_to Claude_).

From here you can see the captain And the gypsy without being seen.

[_He shows him an alcove behind some tapestry._

CLAUDE FROLLO.

The men are stationed and ready?

CLOPIN.

They are ready.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

The projector of this must never be known. Silence! take this purse. I will give you as much more afterward.

[_Claude Frollo hides himself in the alcove. Clopin exits with caution. Esmeralda and Phoebus enter._

CLAUDE FROLLO (_aside_).

Oh, woman adored,
Destiny's prey!
She enters in beauty,
In tears goes away.

ESMERALDA (_to Phoebus_).

My lord the count,
My feelings I try to hide.
My heart is filled with shame,
And filled also with pride.

PHOEBUS (_to Esmeralda_).

My beauty, white and red,
I beg you blush no more.
Love, entering love's domain,
Leaves fear outside the door.

[_Phoebus makes Esmeralda sit down on the bench beside him._

PHOEBUS.

Dost thou love me?

ESMERALDA.

I love thee!

CLAUDE FROLLO (_aside_).

What torture!

PHOEBUS.

The adorable creature! Upon my soul, you are divine!

ESMERALDA.

Your lips are flatterers; You make me feel ashamed. I beg of you, don't come so near.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

They love each other. How I envy them!

ESMERALDA.

My Phoebus! I owe my life to you.

PHOEBUS.

And I--I owe my happiness to you.

ESMERALDA.

Be good to me!
Oh, try to be
Gentle, I entreat,
To the young maid,
Who much afraid
Trembles at your feet!

PHOEBUS.

Oh, my white queen,
Goddess serene,
Sovereign of beauty,
Whose bright eyes shine
With fires divine
Of passion and of duty!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

I wait for them;
I hark to them.
How tender she,
How handsome he!
How near their doom!
Be joyous he,
And happy she,
While I prepare their tomb!

PHOEBUS.

Nymph or woman,
Saint or human,
Be my wife to me!
All day I yearn,
All night I burn,
Such is my love for thee!

ESMERALDA.

I am woman,
I am human,
And my soul afire,
Trembles ever,
Longs forever,
As throbs a lover's lyre!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Woman, wait!
My flame as great,
My blade must have its turn.
Oh! I admire
These souls afire,
And these hearts which burn!

PHOEBUS.

Be always white and red, my love,
And smile at our bright lot;
Smile sweet at love, which we've awaked,
And chastity, which we've forgot.
Your mouth is heaven--my heaven, love--
My soul would cling in bliss
Upon it, love, and pray that life
Might end with one long kiss.

ESMERALDA.

Your voice delights my ear, love;
Your smile is sweet and free.
The laughing passion in your eyes
Benumbs and conquers me.
Your wishes are my law, love,
But I can't yield to this:
My virtue and my happiness
Might die in that long kiss!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Don't let them hear your step, Death,
As near to them you creep!
My jealous hatred will keep watch
While their love falls asleep.
From out their arms so closely locked
You'll steal away their bliss!
Phoebus--your wish is granted,
You die for that long kiss!

[_Claude Frollo rushes upon Phoebus and stabs him; then he opens the window in the back, through which he escapes. With a great cry, Esmeralda falls upon the body of Phoebus. The men stationed at the corner rush forward, seize her, and seem to accuse her._

_ACT IV_

Scene.--_A prison. Door in the center_

SCENE I

ESMERALDA (_alone, chained, lying upon a bed of straw_).

What! He in the tomb and I in this cell--
He a victim and I a prisoner!
I saw him fall! In truth, he's dead!
And this crime, this awful crime--
They say it is my work!
The stem of our life, while yet green, is broken.
Phoebus has gone, and he shows me the way.
Yesterday they made his grave,
To-morrow they'll make mine!

ROMANCE

Phoebus, is there nothing left,
No help given, to those bereft
In this cruel wise--
Neither filters, love, nor charms,
To assuage the soul's alarms,
Or reopen closèd eyes?

God in heaven, I adore thee!
Every hour I implore thee!
Deign to end my life to-day
Or to take my love away!

Phoebus, let us turn our wings
Toward the lights supernal,
Where all things must go at last,
Where love bides and is eternal.
On earth our bodies sleep together,
In heaven our souls will live forever!

God in heaven, I adore thee!
Every hour I implore thee!
Deign to end my life to-day
Or to take my love away!

[_The door opens. Claude Frollo enters, a lamp in his hand, his hood pulled over his face: he comes and stands, motionless, in front of Esmeralda._

ESMERALDA (_jumping up with terror_).

Who is this man?

CLAUDE FROLLO (_covered by his hood_).

A priest!

ESMERALDA.

A priest! How mysterious!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Are you ready?

ESMERALDA.

Ready for what?

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Ready to die.

ESMERALDA.

Yes.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

It is well.

ESMERALDA.

Will it be soon? Answer me, father!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Do you suffer so much?

ESMERALDA.

Yes, I suffer.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Perhaps I, who shall live to-morrow, Suffer more than you.

ESMERALDA.

You? Who, then, are you?

CLAUDE FROLLO.

The tomb lies between us!

ESMERALDA.

Your name?

CLAUDE FROLLO.

You wish to know it?

ESMERALDA.

Yes. [_He lifts his hood._ The priest! It is the priest! O God! my feeble strength inspire! It is indeed his brow of ice, it is his glance of fire! 'Tis he who has pursued me, remorseless, day and night; 'Twas he who killed my Phoebus, and slew my heart's delight. Monster, from my prison, with death's cold hand on me, I'll curse thee, till within the grave my lips shall silent be! What have I done to thee? What is thine awful plan? What dost thou want with me, relentless, impious man? You hate me!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

I love you!
I love you--it is infamous!
Oh, shame to my priesthood!
This love, it is my soul;
This love, it is my blood!
At your feet I fall;
Hear my heart, which cries,
I prefer your tomb
Unto Paradise.

Pity me. I love you! Your pity I implore! For you I've sinned. Have mercy, do not curse me more!

ESMERALDA.

He loves me! Oh, crown of horrors! He holds me--this horrible sorcerer!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

The only living thing in me
Is my love and my anguish!
Hopeless anguish,
Wretched plight!
Alas! I love her,
Painful night!

ESMERALDA.

Awful moment,
Cruel fright!
Heaven! He loves me,
Fearful night.

CLAUDE FROLLO (_aside_).

She shudders, quivers in my arms; The priest has won his chance at last! By night I bore her, once, away; Now, in the day, I'll hold her fast! Death, which follows in my train, Will give her back to love again!

ESMERALDA.

Pity--pity, let me go! Phoebus is dead; he waits above. Alas! I tremble, I'm afraid, I shiver at your frightful love, E'en as the bird which, tortured, dies Beneath the vulture's cruel eyes!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Accept me, I love you! Refuse me no more! Have pity for me, for yourself, I implore!

ESMERALDA.

Your prayer is an insult.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Would you rather die?

ESMERALDA.

The body dies--the soul lives!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

To die is terrible!

ESMERALDA.

Hush! your impious words! Your love makes death beautiful!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Choose! choose! Or Claude or death!

[_Claude falls at Esmeralda's feet in supplication. She repels him._

ESMERALDA.

No, murderer, I will not! Hush!
A crime is this foul love you've nursed.
Better the tomb to which I fly--
Be cursed amid the most accursed!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Tremble, for the scaffold claims you!
You know not what awful schemes
This breast of fury has engendered;
And hell abets me in my dreams.
How I love thee!
Thy hand give,
And to-morrow
Thou shalt live!
Night benumbed
With terror's breath!
Tears for me,
For thee death!
Say, "I love thee!"
Cease thy scorning;
Thy last day
Is dawning!
Ah! since in vain I supplicate,
In vain thy hate I fight,
Farewell forever! One day more,
Then comes eternal night.

ESMERALDA.

Inhuman priest.
Go! I abhor thee!
His dear blood yet
Seems dripping o'er thee,
Oh, night of horror,
Night of shame!
Enough of tears;
Death I claim!
In prison I brave thee,
In chains defy!
Be thou accursed
Eternally!
Thy passion be thy punishment!
To God my love leads me:
The gates of heaven he'll open,
But hell shall close o'er thee!

[_A jailer appears. Claude Frollo signs to him to lead out Esmeralda. He exits while they drag forth the gypsy._

SCENE II

_The area before Notre Dame; the front of the church. The sound of bells is heard_

QUASIMODO.

My God! I love, Except myself, All that's here-- The air which passes, And which chases Away care; And the swallow Who is faithful To the old roof; The chapels high O'ershadowed by The Holy Cross; Every rose That grows; Every sight Of delight!

Sad creature, I-- Uncouth, ill-made! None envies me! This is life As it is! Darkest night, Bluest sky, What matters it? Every door Leads to God. Ignoble scabbard, Noble blade; Fair my soul God has made.

Ring, bells small and great-- Ring on, ring on! Mix well your voices, Gruff and sweet! In the turrets, In the tower, Sing your song!

How they ring! With all their might, Let them hum Day and night! Our festival shall be Magnificent, I swear! Assail it fiercer yet, The palpitating air! The stupid peasants run, And o'er the bridges tear!

Let them ring,
Let them hum,
Day and night!
Every feast
Is increased
By their might!

[_He turns toward the front of the church._

I saw black hangings in the chapel. Are they dragging some misery here? God! a presentiment! I'll not believe it!

[_Enter Claude Frollo and Clopin without perceiving Quasimodo._

It is my master! I'll observe him. He is gloomy too!

[_He hides himself in an obscure angle of the porch._

Oh, my mistress! Oh, Notre Dame! Take my life! save my soul!

SCENE III

_Quasimodo hidden, Claude Frollo, Clopin_

CLAUDE FROLLO.

So Phoebus is at Montfort?

CLOPIN.

My lord, he is not dead!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Provided nothing brings him here!

CLOPIN.

Do not fear it; He is too feeble yet for such a journey. If he came, 'twould be his death. My lord, you can feel sure That every step would reopen his wound; Do not fear anything this morning.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Oh! let me hold her just to-day For life or death within my power! Hell! I'll give you all the rest, If you grant me this one hour! [_To Clopin._] They will soon bring the gypsy here! You remember everything! In the square--with your men--

CLOPIN.

Yes.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Keep in the shadow;
If I cry, "To me!" you come.

CLOPIN.

Yes!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Have plenty with you!

CLOPIN.

If you cry, "To me!"

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Yes.

CLOPIN.

I rush to her,
I tear her from the King's men--

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Yes.

CLOPIN.

And give her to you.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Go, mix among the crowd, And perhaps she Will look upon the priest More tenderly; Then rush--rush all of you--

CLOPIN.

Yes, my master!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Hold yourselves close!

CLOPIN.

Yes.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Hide your arms, Not to excite suspicion!

CLOPIN.

Master, you shall see!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

But hell may take her quick,
With my good-will,
If now this insane creature
Refuses still!

Destiny! Oh, fatal stroke!
Friend, I count on thee!
On this my only chance I wait
With fierce anxiety.

CLOPIN.

Fear nothing terrible, my lord,
Count faithfully on me,
And on this last and only chance
Rely courageously!

[_They go out hurriedly. The populace begin to enter the square._

SCENE IV

_The populace; Quasimodo; afterward Esmeralda, and her escort; then Claude Frollo, Phoebus, Clopin Frouillefou, priests, archers, officers of the law_

CHORUS.

To Notre Dame
Come, get a sight
Of the young woman
Who dies to-night!

This gypsy woman
Who stabbed, they say,
The handsomest officer
In the King's pay.

In vain did Heaven
Beauty lend her!
Is it possible--
God defend her!--
A soul so black,
An eye so tender!

A frightful thing,
Human nature is so!
The poor unfortunate!
Come, let us go
To Notre Dame
To get a sight
Of the young woman
Who dies to-night!

_The crowd increases; noise; a gloomy procession begins to appear on the Place du Parvis. Rows of black penitents. Banners of La Miséricorde. Torches, archers, officers of the law and the watch. The soldiers disperse the crowd. Esmeralda appears. She wears a chemise; a rope is around her neck; her feet are bare, and she is covered with a long black veil of crape. Following her, come the executioners and the King's officers. As the prisoner reaches the front of the church, a somber chant is heard in the distance, coming from the interior of the church, whose doors are closed._

CHORUS (_in the church_).

Omnes fluctus fluminis
Transierunt super me
In imo voraginis
Ubi plorant animæ.

[_The chant draws nearer. It bursts forth, at length, when near the doors, which open suddenly and discover the interior of the church. It is filled with a long procession of priests in their robes of ceremony; banners are borne before them. Claude Frollo, in sacerdotal costume, leads the procession. He goes toward the criminal._

THE PEOPLE.

Alive to-day, to-morrow dead! Heaven! thy wings around her spread!

ESMERALDA.

It is Phoebus who calls me
Unto our home eternal,
Where God will hold us in His arms,
Safe from misfortunes cruel.
Though plunged in the abyss of woe,
A joyful hope is given:
I am to die upon the earth
To be re-born in heaven!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

To die so young, so beautiful!
Alas! the guilty priest
Must suffer greater woe than she;
He ne'er will be released.
Oh, hapless child of sorrow,
Lost through my infamy,
You only die from off this earth,
While heaven is lost to me!

THE PEOPLE.

Alas! she is an infidel.
God's words, unto us spoken,
Say that in heaven for such as she
No blessed gate shall open.

Death holds her fast, what misery!
She can escape it, never!
She dies unto the world this day,
And unto heaven forever!

[_The procession approaches. Claude accosts Esmeralda._

ESMERALDA (_frozen with terror_).

It is the priest!

CLAUDE FROLLO (_low_).

Yes, it is I! I love you, I entreat you! Say but one word! 'Tis not too late; I can yet save you! Say, I love you!

ESMERALDA.

I abhor you! Go!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Then die! I'll go where I can find you! [_Claude turns to the crowd._ We deliver this woman to the secular arm; At this solemn moment may the breath of the Lord Pass over her soul!

[_As the officers of the law are about to seize Esmeralda, Quasimodo jumps into the square, thrusts back the archers, takes Esmeralda in his arms, and throws himself with her into the church._

QUASIMODO.

Sanctuary! sanctuary! sanctuary!

THE PEOPLE.

Sanctuary! sanctuary! sanctuary!
Rejoice, O people!
Hail to the good bell-ringer!
Oh, destiny!
The criminal
Belongs to heaven!
The scaffold falls!
The eternal God
Instead of a tomb
Discloses the altar!
Executioners, back!
King's officers, back!
This barrier
Limits your power.
Thou hast changed
Everything here.
The angels claim her;
She belongs to God!

CLAUDE FROLLO (_commanding silence by a gesture_).

She is not saved! She is a gypsy! Notre Dame can save none but Christians! Pagans are proscribed even when clasping the altar! [_To the King's men._] In the name of my lord the Archbishop of Paris, I give you back this sinful woman!

QUASIMODO (_to the archers_).

I will defend her! I swear it. Approach us not!

CLAUDE FROLLO (_to the archers_).

Do you hesitate? Obey me, on the instant! Tear the gypsy from this holy place.

[_The archers advance. Quasimodo places himself between them and Esmeralda._

QUASIMODO.

Never!
[_A horseman is heard approaching. He calls out_:
Wait! [_The crowd disperses._

PHOEBUS (_appearing on horseback. He is pale, breathless, exhausted as is a man who has made a long journey_).

Wait!

ESMERALDA.

Phoebus!

CLAUDE FROLLO (_aside, terrified_).

My plot has failed.

PHOEBUS (_leaping from his horse_).

God be praised! I breathe And I arrive in time! This girl is innocent. Behold my assassin! [_Points to Claude Frollo._

ALL.

Heavens! the priest!

PHOEBUS.

The priest alone is guilty, and I will prove it! Arrest him!

THE PEOPLE.

Oh, wonder! [_The archers surround Claude Frollo._

CLAUDE FROLLO.

God alone is Master!

ESMERALDA.

Phoebus!

PHOEBUS.

Esmeralda!
[_They fall into each other's arms._

ESMERALDA.

My adored Phoebus, we shall live!

PHOEBUS.

Thou shalt live!

ESMERALDA.

For us shines happiness!

THE PEOPLE.

Live, both of you!

ESMERALDA.

Hear these joyous shouts! At thy feet receive me, humble girl! Heavens! thou art pale! What is the matter?

PHOEBUS (_staggering_).

I die!

[_She catches him in her arms. Expectation and anxiety among the crowd._

Each step I took toward you, my beloved, Reopened my wound, that was hardly healed. I have taken your grave and given you life. I die! Destiny has avenged thee. My angel, I go to see If heaven is worth thy love! Farewell! [_He dies._

ESMERALDA.

Phoebus! He dies! In an instant everything is changed!

[_She falls upon his body._

I follow you into eternity.

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Fatality!

THE PEOPLE.

Fatality!

Transcriber's Notes

A few minor typographical errors have been silently corrected. Names of characters have been regularized, but other variant spellings have been left as they were printed. Page numbers have been removed from the table of contents.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Dramas of Victor Hugo, by Victor Hugo