ACT II

Does it please you?

ESMERALDA (taking the scarf and putting it on).

Yes, it is beautiful!

PHŒBUS.

One moment!

[He goes to her and tries to embrace her.

ESMERALDA (drawing back).

Don't, I beg you!

PHŒBUS (insisting).

You must kiss me!

ESMERALDA (drawing away still more).

No, truly!

PHŒBUS (laughing).

A beautySo cruel,So haughty,Is charming.

ESMERALDA.

No, beautiful captain,In vain you plead!Can I tell how farA kiss might lead?

PHŒBUS.

I am a captain,Why abuse me?I want a kiss—Don't refuse me!Give it me—give it, or I will take!

ESMERALDA.

No, leave me! I beg of you, for my sake.

PHŒBUS.

One kiss, one kiss—'tis nothing, you see.

ESMERALDA.

Nothing to you, but much to me!

PHŒBUS.

Look at me, dear! I am playing no part!

ESMERALDA.

Alas, but I cannot look into my heart!

PHŒBUS.

To-night love shall make an entrance there!

ESMERALDA.

Wherever love enters, soon follows despair.

[She slips out of his arms and escapes.Phœbus, disappointed, turns toQuasimodo, whom the archers hold bound at the back of the stage.

PHŒBUS.

She escapes me, she resists me!A gay adventure, verily!I keep the worst of our two birds of prey—The owl remains; the nightingale flew away!

[He places himself at the head of his guard and goes out, takingQuasimodowith him.

CHORUS OF THE WATCH.

Vigilance and peace—Whoever passes hereMust ope the eye to darkness,To silence strain the ear!

[The sound grows fainter and finally ceases.

Scene.—The square of Grève. The pillory.Quasimodois in the pillory. Populace on the square

CHORUS.

He abducted a girl—What! is it possible?Hark! how they abuse him!Do you hear, my friends?Quasimodo has been hunting on Cupid's domain!

A WOMAN OF THE PEOPLE.

He will pass through my streetOn his return from the pillory;And it is Pierrat ForterneWho will give us the signal.

TOWN-CRIER.

In the King's name, whom God protect!The man you see here, will be putUnder a strong guard,In the pillory for one hour.

CHORUS.

Down with him! Down with him!The hunchback, the deaf, the one-eyed creatureThis Barabbas!I believe, s'death! he's looking at us.Down with the sorcerer!He makes faces, he kicks;He makes dogs bark in the streets.Punish the rascal well!Double the whip and the penalty.

QUASIMODO.

Drink!

CHORUS.

Hang him!

QUASIMODO.

Drink!

CHORUS.

Be accursed!

[Esmeralda, some instants ago, joined the crowd. She perceivesQuasimodo, first with surprise, then with pity. Suddenly, in the midst of all the noise, she mounts the pillory, unfastens a little cup which she carries on her belt, and gives a drink toQuasimodo.

CHORUS.

What are you doing, beautiful girl?Leave Quasimodo alone!When Beelzebub roasts,Nobody gives him water.

[She comes down. The archers unfastenQuasimodoand take him away.

CHORUS.

He abducted a woman!Who? This dolt!It is terrible, it is infamous,It is too much!Do you hear, my friends?QuasimodoDared to go hunting on Cupid's domain.

A magnificent drawing-room in which people are making preparations for a festival.Phœbus, Fleur-de-lys, Madame Aloise De Gondelaurier

MADAME ALOISE.

Phœbus, my future son-in-law, listen to me. I am fond of you.Be master here, as if you were another self.Look to it that every one is gay to-night.And you, my daughter, come, get ready.You will be the most beautiful at this festival,Be also the most happy.

[She goes up stage and gives orders to the servants, who continue the preparations.

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

Sir, since the other week,We have hardly seen you twice!This festival brings you back.How fortunate for us!

PHŒBUS.

Don't scold, I beg of you!

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

I understand. Phœbus forgets me!

PHŒBUS.

I swear to you—

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

Don't swear!They only swear who deceive.

PHŒBUS.

Forget you? What folly!Are you not the most fair?Am I not the most loving?

PHŒBUS (aside).

My beautiful betrothedIs out of sorts to-day;Suspicion is in her mind.What a pity!Beauties, the lovers you treat illGo elsewhere.You can do more with pleasureThan with tears.

FLEUR-DE-LYS (aside).

To betray me, his betrothed,Who belong to him!I, who have only him to think ofAnd worry about!Ah! whether he is away or here,What grief!Present, he scorns my joy;Absent, my tears.

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

Phœbus, the scarf that I worked for you—What have you done with it? I don't see it.

PHŒBUS (troubled).

The scarf? I don't know![Aside.] Good God! unlucky chance!

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

You forgot it?[Aside.]To whom has he given it?And for whom am I deserted?

MADAME ALOISE (coming up to them and trying to reconcile them).

Heavens! get married! Then you can quarrel.

PHŒBUS (toFleur-de-lys).

No! I have not forgotten it.I remember, I carefully folded itAnd put it in an enameled boxThat I had made for it.[Passionately toFleur-de-lys, who still frets.I swear I love you betterThan one could love Venus herself!

[Passionately toFleur-de-lys, who still frets.

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

Don't swear! Don't swear!They only swear who deceive!

MADAME ALOISE.

Children, don't quarrel—everything is bright to-day!Come, my daughter, you must be seen!The guests are coming! Everything has its turn.[To the servants.] Light the candles and let the ball begin.I want everything to be beautiful, to seem as bright as day.

PHŒBUS.

Since we have Fleur-de-lys, nothing is wanting to the ball.

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

Yes, Phœbus—love is wanting! [They go out.

PHŒBUS (watchingFleur-de-lysgo out).

She speaks the truth: my heart is sadEven when she is near—The one I love, the one who fills my soul—Alas! she is not here.Exquisite creature,To you my love!Oh, dancing shadow,My sweet-voiced dove,Absent, yet with meWherever I move!She's as bewildering and sweetAs is a nest 'mid rushes,Sweet as a rosebud crowned with moss,Sweet as the joy which sorrow hushes.Humble child and virgin proud,Soul that's pure though free!Voluptuous ardors sink abashedBefore thy chastity.In the dark night she comes,An angel from the skies;Her forehead veiled by shadows,Flames darting from her eyes.I see her face forever—Now bright, now dark it seems;But strangely—'tis in heavenI see her in these dreams.Exquisite creature.To you my love!Oh, dancing shadow,My sweet-voiced dove,Absent, yet with meWherever I move!

She speaks the truth: my heart is sadEven when she is near—The one I love, the one who fills my soul—Alas! she is not here.

Exquisite creature,To you my love!Oh, dancing shadow,My sweet-voiced dove,Absent, yet with meWherever I move!

She's as bewildering and sweetAs is a nest 'mid rushes,Sweet as a rosebud crowned with moss,Sweet as the joy which sorrow hushes.

Humble child and virgin proud,Soul that's pure though free!Voluptuous ardors sink abashedBefore thy chastity.

In the dark night she comes,An angel from the skies;Her forehead veiled by shadows,Flames darting from her eyes.

I see her face forever—Now bright, now dark it seems;But strangely—'tis in heavenI see her in these dreams.

Exquisite creature.To you my love!Oh, dancing shadow,My sweet-voiced dove,Absent, yet with meWherever I move!

[Enter several lords and ladies in gala dress.

The preceding.Viscount de Gif,M. de Morlaix,M. de Chevreuse,Madame de Gondelaurier,Fleur-de-lys,Diana,Bérangère. Ladies, Lords

VISCOUNT DE GIF.

My salutations, noble hostesses!

MADAME ALOISE, PHŒBUS, FLEUR-DE-LYS (bowing).

Good-evening, noble viscount!Forget all care and griefBeneath this hospitable roof.

M. DE MORLAIX.

Ladies, may God send youHealth, pleasure, and happiness!

MADAME ALOISE, PHŒBUS, FLEUR-DE-LYS.

May Heaven return with interestAll your good wishes, my lord!

M. DE CHEVREUSE.

Ladies, from the bottom of my soulI belong to you, as I do to God!

MADAME ALOISE, PHŒBUS, FLEUR-DE-LYS.

Kind sir, may our good LadyCome always to your aid!

[All the guests enter.

CHORUS.

Come to the festival, come!Page, lordship, and ladyship, come!With flowers in your hand,A joy-seeking band,Come to the festival, come!

[The guests greet and salute each other; servants circulate among the crowd, bearing platters laden with flowers and fruits. A group of young girls forms itself near a window to the left. Suddenly one of them calls to the others, and motions to them to look out of the window.

DIANA (looking out).

Come and look! come and look, Bérangère!

BÉRANGÈRE (looking into the street).

Isn't she quick? Isn't she light?

DIANA.

It is a fairy or it is love.

VISCOUNT DE GIF (laughing).

Who dances in the public square?

M. DE CHEVREUSE (after having looked).

Indeed! it is the magician.Phœbus, it is your gypsyWhom, the other night, with valorYou saved from a robber.

VISCOUNT DE GIF.

Oh, yes, it is the gypsy.

M. DE MORLAIX.

She's as beautiful as the day.

DIANA (toPhœbus).

If you know her, tell her to comeAnd dance for us.

PHŒBUS (looking out with an absent air).

It might be she!

[ToM. de Gif.] Do you think she would remember?

FLEUR-DE-LYS (who watches and listens).

Every one remembers you.Come, call her, tell her to come up.[Aside.] I will see whether to believe what I am told.

PHŒBUS (toFleur-de-lys).

You wish it? Well, let us try!

[He motions to the dancer to come up.

THE YOUNG GIRLS.

She is coming!

M. DE CHEVREUSE.

She has disappeared under the porch.

DIANA.

She has left the mob, stupefied.

VISCOUNT DE GIF.

Ladies, you will see the nymph of the streets.

FLEUR-DE-LYS (aside).

How quickly she obeyed that sign from Phœbus!

The same.Esmeralda.The gypsy enters timidly, confused and radiant. Movement of admiration. The crowd falls back before her

CHORUS.

Look! her brow is fair amid the fairest,As a star would shine, surrounded by torches.

PHŒBUS.

Oh, creature divine!Admiration is duty.Of this ball she is queen,Her crown is her beauty.[He turns toMessieurs de Gifandde Chevreuse.Friends, my soul is on fire.War and death would I face,To hold in my armsSuch bewildering grace.

Oh, creature divine!Admiration is duty.Of this ball she is queen,Her crown is her beauty.

[He turns toMessieurs de Gifandde Chevreuse.

Friends, my soul is on fire.War and death would I face,To hold in my armsSuch bewildering grace.

M. DE CHEVREUSE.

She is a heavenly vision,A dream most rare and tender,Which, floating through earth's darkness,Radiates celestial splendor.Born in the public streets—Oh, blind caprice of fate,To trail through muddy streamsA flower so immaculate!

ESMERALDA (fixing her eyes onPhœbusin the crowd).

It is my Phœbus, I was sure,Just as that night I found him;Whether in satin or in steel,How grace and strength surround him!Phœbus—my head is all on fire,All burns within me, joy and pain;My soul's consumed for lack of tears,Just as earth yearns for rain.

FLEUR-DE-LYS.

How fair she is—yes, I was sure!Jealous, indeed, I ought to be;But yet to match that lovelinessHow great must be my jealousy!Alas! perhaps we both, foredoomedTo waste 'neath sorrow's harsh caress,Full soon shall die—she in her flower,I in my loneliness!

MADAME ALOISE.

A radiant creature, truly,But, faith, 'tis a disgraceThat such a wretched gypsyShould have so sweet a face.Alas! the curious laws of fate'Tis not for mortal mind to know:The serpent hides his treacherous headBeneath the fairest flowers that grow.

ALL (together).

She has the calmness, the delightOf radiant skies on a warm night.

MADAME ALOISE (toEsmeralda).

Come, child! My beauty, come—Come and dance us some new dance!

[Esmeraldaprepares to dance, and draws from her bosom the scarf whichPhœbusgave her.

FLEUR DE-LYS.

My scarf! Phœbus, you have deceived me!My rival! Here she is!

[Fleur-de-lyssnatches the scarf fromEsmeralda, and falls in a swoon. All the people rush angrily toward the gypsy, who flies for protection toPhœbus.

ALL.

Is it true that Phœbus loves her?Infamous creature, go—depart!To brave us thus in our own home,You must have an audacious heart.Oh! height of insolence! Retire!Go back into the public street!The common tradesmen, they can praiseThe jumping of your low-born feet.Away with her, away at once!Out at the door! 'Tis a disgraceFor this degraded girl to liftHer eyes to such a lofty place.

ESMERALDA.

Oh, defend me! Help! Defend me,Save me, Phœbus, I implore thee;For the poor forsaken gypsy,Stands defenseless now before thee!

PHŒBUS.

I love her, and I love but her.Yes! her defender I will be.I'll fight for her, and my strong armWill bear my heart out valiantly.If some one must be her protector,I am the one—and doubt me not,Her wrongs are mine, and who insults herMust answer for it on the spot.

ALL.

What! She is what he loves! Indeed!Away from here, away from here!A gypsy he prefers to us;With loving words he calms her fear.Hush! silence! Both of you be still!No further words of insolence.

[ToPhœbus.] From you, 'tis too much arrogance![ToEsmeralda.] From thee, too much impertinence!

[Phœbusand his friends protect the gypsy, who is menaced by all the guests ofMadame De Gondelaurier.Esmeraldastaggers toward the door.

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

Phœbus,Viscount de Gif,M. de Morlaix,M. de Chevreuse, and many other friends ofPhœbus, seated at tables, are drinking, and singing; afterwardDon Claude Frollo

CHORUS.

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

PHŒBUS.

Give to the braveIn every placeA well-filled cellar,A pretty face.Happy fellow!Help him holdDainty women,Wine that's old.If a beautyOf cold mienBe unwilling,'Tis sometimes seen,He jokes with herWith merry winks,Then he sings,Then he drinks!The day goes by.Or drunk or not,He soon embracesHis Toinotte;Then ferociousHe goes to bedIn a cannon's mouth,And sleeps like lead!And his soul,Which often seemsTo mix up womenWith his dreams,Is contented if the wind,With its come and go,Rocks the canvas of his tentGently to and fro!

Give to the braveIn every placeA well-filled cellar,A pretty face.Happy fellow!Help him holdDainty women,Wine that's old.

If a beautyOf cold mienBe unwilling,'Tis sometimes seen,He jokes with herWith merry winks,Then he sings,Then he drinks!

The day goes by.Or drunk or not,He soon embracesHis Toinotte;Then ferociousHe goes to bedIn a cannon's mouth,And sleeps like lead!

And his soul,Which often seemsTo mix up womenWith his dreams,Is contented if the wind,With its come and go,Rocks the canvas of his tentGently to and fro!

CHORUS.

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

[EnterClaude Frollo, who seats himself at a table at some distance fromPhœbus, and appears at first to observe nothing that passes around him.

VISCOUNT DE GIF (toPhœbus).

That pretty gypsy,What are you doing with her?

[Claude Frollomakes a movement of attention.

PHŒBUS.

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

ALL.

Truly?

PHŒBUS.

Truly!

[The agitation ofClaude Frolloincreases.

VISCOUNT DE GIF.

In one hour?

PHŒBUS.

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!

PHŒBUS.

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!

PHŒBUS.

Pleasure awaits us;Exhaust without remorseThe 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 ofPhœbusarise from the table, replace their swords, their caps, their cloaks, and prepare to depart.

CHORUS.

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

PHŒBUS.

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

[The friends ofPhœbusgo out.

Claude Frollo,Phœbus.Claude FrollostopsPhœbusas he is about to go out

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Captain!

PHŒBUS.

Who is this man?

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Listen to me?

PHŒBUS.

Make haste!

CLAUDE FROLLO.

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

PHŒBUS.

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!

PHŒBUS.

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

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Listen!

PHŒBUS.

What do I care?

CLAUDE FROLLO.

Phœbus, if you cross the threshold of that door—

PHŒBUS.

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.

PHŒBUS (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;Phœbus! there death waits for you!

[Claude Frollo'searnestness seems to troublePhœbus, who looks at his interrogator with anxiety.

PHŒBUS.

He astounds me!Ah, he wounds me,In spite of myself, with doubt!This city greatIs 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 hearsNothing but treachery about.

Believe me—my lord, avoid the sirenWho lures you to destruction.More than one gypsy in her rageHas stabbed a heart palpitating with love.

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

PHŒBUS.

Have I become a fool?Gypsy, Jewess, or Moor,The love that questions what she beIs 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 rashlyTrifle with fate!Oh, dread the false creatureWho waits in the gloom,And do not thus wildlyRush to your doom.

[Phœbusexits quickly, in spite ofClaude Frollo.Claude Frollostands gloomy and undecided for a moment; then followsPhœbus.

A chamber. In the background, a window which opens on the river.Clopin Frouillefouenters, 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 Claudeappears

CLOPIN (toClaude).

From here you can see the captainAnd 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 Frollohides himself in the alcove.Clopinexits with caution.EsmeraldaandPhœbusenter.

CLAUDE FROLLO (aside).

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

ESMERALDA (toPhœbus).

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