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Presented to the
LIBR A R Y of the
UN IVER SITY OF TORONTO
by
Mr s Andr ew Ke l l ogg
S T AJW D AJR D
N OV E L &
N° X X X II.
No k ind of literature is so generally attractwe as Frction. Prctures of
l i fe and manners, and Stones of adventure , are more eagerl y recerved bythe many than graver productions, however xmportant these lattermaybe
A PULEIUS is better remembered by his fable of Cupid and Psyche than byhrs abstruser Platonic wrltmgs and the Decameron o f Boccaccro has out.
lwed the Latro treatises , and other learned works of that author.”
THE
HUNCHBACK OF NOTR E-DAME .
T R ANSLATED m ore THE. FR ENCH on
V ICTOR HUGO.
COM PLETE IN ONE VOLUM E.
L ONDON
R ICHAR D BENTLEY , NEW BUR LINGTON STR EET,
(SUCCESSOR TO HENRY COLBURN) :
BELL AND BR ADFDTE, EDINBUR GH ;CUMMING, DUBLIN ; AND
‘
GALXGNANI, m ars
1 833.
Printed by A .
Nf’v‘w-Slil'eetfiquare.
H U N C H B A C K-A n o n — “ W
NOT R E -DAM E .
BY VICTOR HUGO.
TRANSLATED EX PRESSLY FOR TH IS ED ITION
W' ITH A SKETCH OF THE LIFE AND W R IT INGS OF THE AUTHOR
BY FREDER IC SHOBER L.
LONDON
R ICHAR D BENTLEY , NEW BUR LINGTON STR EET,
( SUCCE SSOR TO HENRY COLBURN)BELL AND BRADFUTE, ED INBURGH ;
CUMM ING, DUBLIN ; ANDGALIGNAN I PAR IS.
CONTENTS.
Sm ca or m Lm ; m otW arrrNos or? Vl croa Huoo
BOOK I .
CHAPI — The great Hall of the Palace of JusticeI I.— Pnerre GrmgoireIIL Monsengncur the Card lnalIV. MasterJacques Coppeno leV uas nmodo
Esmeralda
BOOK II.
L— From Cha bd is Into Scyl laIL— The Place e GreveIII.— The Poe t puzz ledIV.
— Inconvemences of following a handsome GirlStreet at N ight
V .— Sequel ot‘
InconveV I.— The brokenJugVIL— A W edding n b t
BOOK I I I .
I . Notre DameII.—B1rd ’
s-Eye View of Paris
BOOK IV.
I . - The FoundlingI I . Claude Fro lloI IL—The Bell-Km of Notre-Dame
IV.— Tbe Dog and is Master
BOOK V.
La Ancient Admlnistration c l'Jus trceI I. - The Trouaux RatsI II. s ter Gudulel V.
- The Pulory
C0NTENTS¢
BOOK VI.CHAR
I. —Danger of trusting a Goat with a SecretI I .— A Prrest and a Ph i losopher are two di fferent PersonsI I I. The Be l lsIV.
—C laude Frol lo ’3 Cell
V. - The two Men m BlackV L Capta in Phoebus de ChateaupersV II. — The Gobl in-MonkV I I I.— Utihtyof W indows look ing towards the River
BOOK VII.
I. The Crown transformed into a dryLeaf a
I I. Seque l to the Crown transform ed into a dryLeafI IL Conclus ion of the Crown transformed into a dryLeafIV. Lasciate Ogni SperanzaV — The Mother
V I. - Three human Hearts d ifferently constituted
BOOK VI I I.
I. A high Fever‘II. -The SanctuaryI II A human Heart '
m a Form scarcely humanIV . Earthenware and Crysta lV. The Key o f the Porte RougeV I.— Sequel to the Keyof the Porte Rouge
BOOK IX .
I.'
Grin ire has several capital Ideas one after another inthe ue des Bernardms
I I.— Turn VagabondI I I.— 11 AllegroIIV
’. A ml schrevous Friend
V .- The Retreat where Mons ieur Louas of France says his
Prayers FVI. A narrow EscapeV IL Chateaupers to the Rescue
BOOK X .
I .— The little ShoeI I. La Creatura Be lla Bianco Vestita”I I I.— Marriage of Capta in PhwbusIV.
—Marriage of Quas imodo
SKETCH OF
THE LIFE AND W R ITINGS
VICTOR HUGO .
THE author of the work here submitted to the publi c in anEnglish dress
,though still young
,has distinguished himself
in almost every walk of imaginative li terature : disputingthe prize with the best lyri c poets of the day ; occupyingone of the most eminent positions on the stage ; and holding the very first place among the contemporary novelistsof France. Of such a writer
,the following parti culars ,
brief though they be, will , i t is presumed, form an acceptable Introduction to the attempt to transfuse the acknowIedged master-piece of his pen into our native language .Vrcron HUGO was born on the 26th of February, 1 802 ,
a t Besancon . At the age of five years he accompanied hisfather, then a colonel in the French army, to I tal y, wherethis offi cer was afterwards appoin ted commandant of aprovince, and was engaged in suppressing the hordes of
bandi tti [which then infested that coun try, and, amongothers, the daring Fra Diavolo . Two years afterwards ,young Hugo, having returned to Paris, received his first instructions from his mother
,who belonged to a family of La
Vendee, assisted by a royali st who was concealed in herhouse, and who afterwards suffered death withMallet, and ane ccles ias ti c. Among the first books that he read were theworks of Polybius and Taci tus. In 1 8 1 1 he went with his
viii L IFE AND W R IT INGS or vrc'
ron HUGO.
mother and brothers to Spain,where hi s father
,meanwhile
promoted to the rank of general,commanded two provinces .
He resided with them in the Macerano palace at Madrid, andwas destined to be page to King Joseph . In the followingyear
,when his patron was expe lled from the Peninsula, his
mother returned with him and his brother Eugene to Paris .His residence in I taly and Spain, the royalis t sentiments andrel igious spiri t of his mother
,and the enthusiasm of his
father for Napoleon, have given a tinge to his after-lifeand to every page of his works.At the age of thirteen, young Hugo made his first po
etical essay in honour of Roland and chivalry. Soon afterwards
,by superior command
,he was obliged to leave his
mother,who had quarrelled with her husband, probably
owing to the di fference Of their poli tical opinions,and was
sent by his father to an establi shmen t belonging to theGymnasium of Louis le Grand . Here, vexed at his separation from his mother, he wrote a royalist tragedy, in honour of Louis X VI I I. wi th Egyptian names
,under the
ti tle Of Irtamene . From the academy of Cordien and Decote he sent a poem Sur les Avantages de l
’
E tude to theFrench Academy
,on which occasion he had for competi tors
Lebrun, Delavigne, Saintine, and Loyson, who all madetheir poeti cal debut at this time. The prize was not adj udged to Victor Hugo’s performance
,but i t obtained ho.
nourable mention . The youthful poet concluded wi th thisreference to himself
M oi qui toujours fuyant l es cités et les cours,De trois lustres apeine ai vu finir le cours.
”
The Academicians would not believe that the author was
only fifteen, and felt offended at what they considered anattempt to impose upon them ; and when Hugo laid thecertificate Of his baptism before R aynouard, the reporter;the prize was already adjudged.In the foll owing year
,Victor's brother Eugene gained a
pri ze at the Jew :fiora uw of Toul ouse . Victor’
s j ealousywas exci ted
,and In 1 8 19 he Obtained two pri zes from the
same Academy, for poems on the Statue of Henry IV. and
LIFE AND W R IT INGS or vrcron HUGO. is
the Virgins of Verdun. At Toulouse, the judges, like theFrench Academicians, would not believe that the wri terW as so young, and the president of the Academy made aformal complain t on the subject. The Ode on the Sta.
tue of Henry IV.
”was finished in a single night . He
was watching beside his sick mother, who lamen ted thecircumstance as preventing him from being a candidate ,sin ce the next morning was the latest time for sending off
poems destined to compe te for the pri ze . Early on the
following day the piece was finished, and, bedewed withhis mother’s tears
,i t arrived in time at Toulouse.
In 1 820 Victor Hugo again obtained the pri ze for hispoem of Mose s on the Nile,
"and was proclaimed mantra
es jeux fioraux . These pursui ts were not calculated to
further his study of the law, whi ch he had chosen for hi sprofession
,and which was besides Obs tructed by the cares
arising from the necessity of supporting himself, by poli ti cs,which now began to engage his atten tion, and, above all,by love . His terrific romance of “H an d
’
I s lande,
” whichhe commenced in 1 820
,but for which he could not find
a publisher till three years afterwards, was wri tten for noother purpose but to communicate his feelings to the Objectwho had long possessed his youthful affections
,and whom
he was at length not permitted to see . At the same timehe compo sed his royal ist and religious Odes
,and
,in con..
j unction wi th a few friends,published the Conserva teu r
L ittéraire, to which be con tributed arti cles on Sir Walte rScott, Byron, Moore, and also poli ti cal satires . The trans.lations from Lucan and Virgil, which about this time appeered under the name of D
’
Auverney, and the Epistlesfrom Aristides to Bru tu s on Thou and Y ou
,were from his
pen .
In the Conservateur L il téra ire he also wrote remarks onthe firs t M editations P oétiques, the author of which hadnot yet avowed himself. Every line of this article expres ses astonishment
,profound admiration Of the new
poet, and keen sarcasm on the firs t opinions that might beanti cipated from the publi c on this poetj Lamartine. I twas not till two years after the publication of thi s articlethat he became personally acquainted wi th Lamartine him
LIFE AND W R ITINGS or V ICTOR HUGO. xi
quoted, the essential improbability of such a characteras Bug Jargal, a negro of the noblest moral and in tellectualcharacte r, passionately in love with a white woman, yettempering the wildes t passion wi th the deepest respect,and sacrificing even life at last in her behalf and that ofher husband
,i s too violen t a call upon the imagination
bu t, setting aside the defects of the plot, no reader of the tale
.can forget the entrancing in terest of the scenes in the campo f the insurgen t chief Biassou, or the death struggle between Habihrah and D
'
Auvem ey, on the brink of the cataract. The latte r, in particular, i s drawn with such in tenseforce
,that the reader seems almost to be a witness of the
changing fortunes of the fight, and can hardl y breathef reely till he comes to the close .
"
In 1 823—4, Victor Hugo produced a poetical miscellany, wi th the title of La M use F ranpa ise. I n 1 824,his poem Napoleon"Obtained deserved applause. For
a narrative of the tour which he made in Switzerland in1 825, in company with Nodier, he has not been able tofind a publisher. In 1 827, he composed his Ode d la
Co lonne, which gained him general adm iration. His
father died in the following year,and his last hours were
cheered by the enthusiasm with which his son celebrate dthe exploits of hi s emperor.About this period the hosti lities between the adherents
of the romanti c and the clas si c school were renewed withvehemence for a while this quarrel engrossed the attent ion Of the publi c even in a still greater degree than politics and Hugo
,at the head of a li ttle band, waged war
against the numerous host of the classicis ts wi th variablesu ccess . His drama enti tled Cromwell
,
”
( 1 827) notadapte d for the stage, full of admirable passages, but ftcquently lame
,weak
,and absurd
,was rather a defeat than
a. victory . The Orientales ( 1828) gave a severe blow toclassicism never had a Frenchman produced such lyri cs .Thi s work is replete wi th simple
,natural feeling, and
glowing inspiration .
His next performance, Le dernier Jour d
’
un Condamné,publ ished in 1 829, though i t has no pretensions to thecharacter of a regular tale
,is, in its way, perhaps, the mos t
x ii LIFE AND ,W R ITINGS or vrcTOR HUGO.
perfect of Victor Hugo’
s productions. Here, like S terne,he has taken a single captive, shut him up in a dungeon,and then looked through the twilight of the grated doorto take his picture. I t was wri tten to show how deepan in terest might be given to a mere chronicle of thoughts,a register of sensations what variety and even dramati cmovement might be imparted to a monologue, i n whichthe scene shifts only from the B icetre to the Conciergerie,the HOtel-de-Ville and the Place de Greve and such i sthe power of genius, that he has completely succeeded inenchaining the interest of the reader throughout
,at the
same time without pushing the subject beyond the verge ofphysical pain .”
This work was soon followed by M arion Delorme, a
tragedy, which at first was not permitted to be repre
sented. The minister Labourdonnaye offered the author,by way of compensation, a considerable increase of his
pension,which the poe t rej ected . In the same year he
completed another tragedy, Hernani, which was broughtou t in the following February at the Théai tre Francais .At the representations Of this play, which abounds inindi vidual beauties, but the general plot of which is extremely defective, the theatre, pi t and boxes, res embled afield of battle. Both parties claimed the victory.In March, 1 83 1 , appeared his N otre-Dame de Paris ,
of whi ch this volume offers a translation —e a work justlysaid to be in a strain of a higher mood than any that hehad previously attempted . Such was i ts succe ss in Paris,that several edi tions were required in the course Of a fewmonths. An in telligent cri ti c in the Foreign QuarterlyReview
, (No. X V.) in his remarks on it, has thes e Observations As long as a taste remains for the extra.ordinary, or perhaps i t should be called the tremendou s,such works must be popular. They appeal to an appetitewhi ch is shared by the peer wi th the peasant . VictorHugo is not a wri ter in whose hands the power Of mould;ing the human sympathies is likely to be idl e. He iseloquent, his fancy is active
, _
his imagination fertile and
Edinburgh Review.
m s AND wa rrm cs or vi cron nuqo. x ii i
pass ion, which gives life and energy to the con ceptions ofa writer
,and which
,acting upon ideas as fire does upon
the parched wood s of Ameri ca, sets the whole scene in aflame, i s i n him readi ly roused. Hugo may be ca lled anaffec ted writer, a mannerist, or a horrorist ; but he can
never be accused of the great vice, in modern times themost heinous of all dulness .
"Here,
” says anothercri ti c, the author has brought his antiquarian learningto bear wi th effect, not overlaying his story with erudition,but vivifying the dry bones of history by the warmth andbrilliancy of his fancy ; while an extraordinary effec t o funity is given to the whole, by making the whole movement of the tale emanate from and revolve round the gipsyheroine, and concentrate i tself round the venerable towersof Notre-Dame In power Hugo i s never deficient ;but certainly nothing in any of his former works is to beco mpared to his description of Notre-Dame, and the mysterious adaptation and pre. established harmony as i t werewhich seemed to exis t between i t and its monstrous childQuasimodo to the attack of the Truands (the Alsatian sof Paris) upon the cathedral, and their repulse by thesuperhuman exertions of the bell- ringer and finally tothat awful scene where the archdeacon, gazing down fromthe square tower of Notre-Dame upon the execution of hisvictim in the square beneath
,i s hurled from a height o f
two hundred feet plumb down to the pavement below.
”
But i t would be useless to accumulate opinions upon awork now before the Bri ti sh publi c
,which can of course
form its own judgment upon it. The translator will therefore merely add
,that this version has been made with care
that i t has been his aim in the task to preserve as muchas possible the peculiarities of the author’s style and manner“ and that he has taken no further liberty with theoriginal than here and there pruning away certain lu x uriancies, or softening down expressions
,which
,though not
it Few Engl ishmen,
"observes a critic in the Athenaeum, are able to
read the writings o f V ictor H ugo W ith faci lity in the orig inal, for the authorhas not mere ly a
style but a language of his own. The truth is, he has cu l led
f rom al l ages and ranks, and from every era o f fiench l iterature,words and
cx pressrons wherewith to embod y forth the strange crea tions o f his powerfu lima inat ion : and his language la ughs to scorn the authorityof the Ac rderme,the nstrtut, and the lexicographers.”
LIFE AND W RITINGS OF VICTOR HUGO.
s tartling to our continental neighbours,woul d offend the
severer taste of the English reader.Since the publi cation of this work
,which has placed
Victor Hugo indisputably at the head of the roman cewri ters of his country, he has chiefly directed his attentionto the drama. Two pieces
, L e R oi s’
amuse and LucreceB orgia, have been the resul t, but of these i t has beenobserved
,that they partake too largely of the besetting sin
of the modern French school of imaginati ve litera ture,
and that in them scarcely any humane or generous emotion leaven s the mass of li centiousness, incest, and mur
der,in which they deal . The former was neverthele ss
brought out at the Theatre Francais, but the representation was forbidden by the minister Argou t, on account ofpassages which were supposed to contain allusions to the
Orleans family. In consequence of this inte rdict,the di
rectors of the { theatre refused to fulfil their contract withthe author, who therefore instituted legal proceedingsagainst them
,but, we believe, W ithout accomplishing his
object.Victor Hugo
’s reading lies chiefly among English, Spanish, and I talian authors . His acquain tance with Englishli terature
,indeed
,i s apparent both in his poetry and his
romance i t has been asserted,that in the characters and
incidents of this work in particul ar, a strong likeness to theinventions of English wri ters m ay frequently be traced ;but we doubt whether any unbiassed reader of this volumewill discover in i t sufficient evidence to j ustify the chargeof imitation alleged against the author.
THE
HUNCHBACK OF NOTR E -DAME .
VOLUM E TH E F IR ST .
BOOK I .
CHAPTER I .
THE GREAT HALL OF THE PALACE OF JUSTICE .
I T i s this day three hundred and forty—eight years sixmonths and ninete en days since the good people of Pari s
'
were awakened by a grand peal from all the bells in thethree districts of the Ci ty, the University, and the Ville .The 6 th of January, 1 482, was, nevertheless, a day of
which history has not preserved any record. There wasnothing worthy of note in the event which so early set inmotion the bells and the ci tizens of Paris. I t was nei theran assault of the Picards or the Burgundians, nor a procession with the shrine of some saint
,nor a mutiny of the
s tudents, nor an entry of our most redoubted lord, Monsieur the king
,
” nor even an execution of rogues of ei thersex, before the Palace of Justi ce of Paris . Nei ther was i tan arrival of som e bedizened and befeathered embassy, asight of frequen t occurrence in the fifteenth century. I twas but two days since the last cavalcade of this kind, thato f the Flemish ambassadors commissioned to conclude amarriage between the Dauphin and Margare t of Flanders,had made its entry into Paris
,to the great annoyance of
the Cardinal of Bourbon,who
,in order to please the king,
B
2 THE HUN CHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
had been obliged to receive thi s vulgar squad of Flemish '
burgomasters with a good grace,and to entertain them at
his hotel de Bourbon wi th a goodly morality,mummery
,
and farce, while a deluge of rain drenched the magnificenttapestry at his door.What set in motion all the population of Pari s on the
6th of January was the double solemni ty,united from time
immemorial, of the epiphany and the Festival of Fools .I On that day there was to be an exhibition of fireworks inthe Place de Greve
,a May- tree planted at the chapel of
Braque, and a mystery performed at the Palace of Justice .Proclamation had been made to this effect on the precedingday
,with sound of trumpet in the publi c places
,by the
p rovost’s officers in fair coats of purple cam let,with large
white crosses on the breast.That morning
,therefore
,all the houses and shops re
mained shut,and crowds of citizens of both sexes were to
be seen wending their way towards one of the three placesspecified above . Be it
,however
,observed, to the honour of
the taste of the cockneys of Paris, that the majority of thisconcourse were proceeding towards the fireworks
,which
were quite seasonable, or to the mystery which was to berepresen ted in the great hall of the palace, well covered inand sheltered
,and that the curious agreed to let the poor
leafless May shiver all alone beneath a January sky in thecemetery of the chapel of Braque.All the avenues to the Palace of Justice were particularly
thronged,because i t was known that the Flemish ambas
sadors, who had arrived two days before, purposed to attendthe representation of the mystery, and the election of thePope of Fools
,which - was also to take place in the great
hall .I t was no easy matter on that day to get in to this great
hall , though then reputed to be the largest room in theworld. To the spectators at the windows, the palace yardcrowded wi th people had the appearance of a sea, in towhich five or six streets
,like the mouths of so many rivers,
disgorged their l iving streams . The waves of thi s sea,incessantly swelled by fresh accessions
,broke against the
angles of the houses,projecting here and there like pro
rns‘ HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 3
montories in to the irregular basin of the Place . In thecen tre of the lofty Gothic facade of the palace, the grands taircase, with i ts double current ascending and descending,poured incessantly into the Place like a cascade in to a lake .Great were the noise and the clamour produced by thecries of some
,the laughter of others, and the trampling of
the thousands of feet. From time to time, this clamourand this noise were redoubled the current which pro
pe ll ed the crowd towards the grand staircase turned back,agi tated and whirling about. I t was a dash made by anarcher, or the horse of one of the provost
’
s sergeants kickim and plunging to restore order— an admirable man(e uvre
,which the provosty bequeathed to the constablery
,
the constablery to the maréchaussée, and the maré chaus see
to the presen t gendarmerie of Paris .Doors
,windows
,loopholes
,the roofs of the houses
,
swarmed with thousands of calm and honest faces gazingat the palace and at the crowd, and desiring nothing morefor most of the good people of Paris are quite content withthe sight of the spectators ; nay, a blank wall , behindwhich something or other is going forward, i s to us anobject of great curiosity .I f i t could be given to us mortals living in the year
1 830 to mingle in imagination with those Parisians of thefifteenth century, and to enter wi th them,
shoved,elbowed,
hustled, that immense hall of the palace so strai tened forroom on the 6 th of January
,1482 , the sight would not be
des ti tute either of interest or of charm ; and all that weshould have around us would be so ancien t as to appearabsoluw new. If it is agreeable to the reader
,we will
endeavour to re trace in imagination the impressions whichhe woul d have felt with us on crossing the threshold of thegreat hall
,amidst this motley crowd
,coated, gowned, or
clothed in the paraphernali a of office .In the first place
,how one
’
s ears are stunned with thenoise - how one’s eyes are dazzled Over head is a doubleroof of pointed arches, ceiled with carved wood, paintedsky-blue
,and studded with fleurs de lie in gold ; unde r
foot,a pavemen t of alternate squares of black and whi te
marble. A few paces from us s tands an enormous pi llar,
ram nurvounaox or NOTRE -DAME. 5
I t is,indeed
,possible that the accompli ces of R availlac
had no hand in the fire of 1 6 1 8 . There are two otherplausible ways of accounting for it ; fi rst, the great star
of fire,a foot broad
,and a foot and a half high, which
fell,as every body knows
,from the sky upon the Palace
on the 7th of March, after midnight secondly, this stanzaof Théophile
Certes cc fut un triste jeu.Quand a Paris ( lame Justice,Pour avo ir mange trop d '
épice,Se mit tout le pa late en feu.
W hatever may be thought of this threefold explanation,political
,physical
,and poetical, of the burning of the
Palace of Justice in 1 6 1 8 , the fact of the fire is unfor
tunately most certain . Owing to this catastrophe, and,above all
,to the successive restorations which have swept
away what i t spared,very li ttle i s now left of this elder
Palace of the Louvre,already so ancien t in the time of
Philip the Fair,that the traces of the magnificent build
ings erected by King Robert, and described by Hegaldu s,
had then to be sought for. What has become of the
Chancery Chamber,where St. Louis consummated his
marriage ? the garden whe re b e administered justice,habitedin a camlet coat, a surcoat of lin sey-woolsey withoutsleeves, and a mantle over all, of black serge, recliningupon carpets wi th Join ville ? Where i s the chamber ofthe Emperor Sigismond ? — that of Charles IV. thatof John Lackland ? Where is the flight of steps fromwhich Charles VI . promulgate d his edict of amnesty ?the slab whereon Marcel murdered
,in the presen ce of the
dauphin, Robert de Clermont and the Marechal de Champagne ? — th
'
e wicke t where the bulls of the anti-popeBenedict were torn in pieces, and whence those who hadbrought them were taken
,coped and mitred in derision ,
and carried in procession through al l Pari s P— the greathall, with its gilding, i ts azure, i ts poin ted arches, itss tatues, its pillars, i ts immense vaulted roof, cut and carvedal l over and the gilded chamber ? — and the stone lionat the gate, kneeling, with head couched and tai l betweenhis legs, like the lions of King Solomon
’
s throne, in theB 3
0 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
reverential atti tude which befi ts strength in the presen ceof justice and the beautiful doors and the paintedwindows ? and the chased iron—work which discouragedBiscornette P— and the delicate carvings of Du Haney ?
time, what have men, done with these wonders E‘
been given to us for all these for al l this anart P the heavysy architect of the
porch of St. Gervais so much for art : and, as for history, we have the tradi tions of the great pillar, which stillreverberates the gossip of the Patrus . This is no greatmatter. Let us return to the veri table great hall of theveri table old palace .One of the extremities of this prodigious parall elogram
was occupied by the famous marble table, of a single piece ,
so long,so broad
,and so thick
,that
,as the ancien t terriers
say, in a style that might have given an appeti te to Gar
gantua, never was there seen in the world slice of
marble to match it ; and the other by the chapel whereLouis XI . placed his own effigy kneeling before the Virgin,and to which, reckless of leaving two vacant niches in thefi le of royal statues
,he removed those of Charlemagne and
St. Louis,saints whom he conceived to possess great in
fluence wi th Heaven as k ings of France. This chapel,sti ll new
,having been built scarcely six years
,was in that
charming style of deli cate archi tecture, wonderful scul pture,and sharp deep carving, which marks with us the conclusion of the Gothic era, and prevail s ti ll about the middleof the sixteenth century in the fairy fantasies of the re
vival of the art. The small rose mullion over the porchwas in particular a masterpiece of lightness and delicacyyou would have taken it for a star of lacework .
In the middl e of the ha11, .0pposite to the great door,an enclosed platform lined with gold brocade, backedagainst the wall, and to which there had been made aprivate entran ce by means of a window from the passageto the gilded chamber, was erected expressly for the Flemishenvoys, and the other distinguished personages invited tothe representation of the mystery .
On thi s marble table, according to established usage,
ra n HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 7
the mystery was to be performed. Arrangements for thispurpose had been made early in the morning. The ri chmarble floor
,scratched all over by the heels of the clerks
of the Bazoche, supported a cage of woodwork of con siderable height
,the upper fioor of whi ch, exposed to view
from every part of the hall , was to serve for the stage,while the lower
,masked by hangings of tapestry
,formed a
sort of dressing-room for the actors. A ladder, undis
guisedly placed outside, was to be the channel o f commu
nication between the two, and i ts rude steps were to furnisht he only medium as well for entrances as for exits . Therewas no movement
,however abrupt and unexpected
,no
piece of stage-effect so sudden, but had to be executed bythe intervention of this ladder. Innocent and venerableinfancy o f the art of machineryFour se rgeants of the bailiff of Paris
,whose duty i t was
to superintend all the amusemen ts of the people, as wellon festivals as on days of execution
,were stationed one at
ea ch com er of the marble table.I t was not till the great clock of the palace had struck
the hour of twelve that the performance was to begina late hour, to be sure, for a theatri cal representation , buti t had been found necessary to sui t i t to the convenience o fthe ambassadors .Now, the whole assembled multi tude had been waitingever since the morning. Many of these honest sightloving folks had
,indeed, been shivering from daybreak
before the steps of the palace ; nay, some declared that theyhad passed the night under the great porch, to make sureof getting in . The crowd increased every moment
,and
,
l ike water that rises above its level,began to moun t along
the walls, to swell about the pill ars , to cover the en tablatures, the cornices, all the salient poin ts of the architecture,all the rilievos of the sculpture. Accordingly
,the weari
ness, the impatience, the freedom of a day of li cence,the
quarrels occasioned every moment by a sharp elbow or ahob-nailed shoe, and the ted iousness of long wai ting, gave,long before the hour at which the ambassadors were toarrive, a sharp, sour tone to the clamour of the populace
,
B 4
8 THE B UNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
kicked, cuffed, j ostled, squeezed, and wedged togetheralmost to suffocation . Nothing was to be heard but complaints and imprecations again st the Flemings
,the provost
of the merchants, the cardinal of Bourbon, the bailiff of thepalace, Madame Margaret of Austria, the sergean t- vergers,the cold, the heat, the bad weather, the bishop of Pari s
,
the Pope of Fools,the pillars
,the statues
,this closed door
,
that open window — all to the great amusement of thegroups of scholars and serving-men distributed throughthe crowd, who mingled with all thi s discontent their saracasms and mischievous sallies
,which
,like pins thrust in to
a wound,produced no small aggravation of the general ill
humour.There was among others a knot of these merry wights,
who,after knocking the glass ou t of one of the windows
,
had boldly seated themselves on the entaib lature, and thencecast their eyes and their j okes alternately wi thin and withou t, among the crowd in the hal l and the crowd in thePlace. From their mimickries
,their peals of laughte r
,
l and the jeers whi ch they exchanged from one end of thehal l to the other with their comrades
,it was evident that
ythese young clerks felt none of the weariness and ennui
{ which overpowered the rest of the assembly, and that theywell knew how to extract from the scene before them sufficient amusement to enable them to wai t patiently for thepromised spectacle.Why,
’pon my soul,
’
t i s you,Joannes Frollo de
Molendino cried one of them, a youth wi th a fair complexion
,handsome face
,and arch look
,perched on the
acanthi of a capital ; you are rightly named, Jehan duMoulin
,for your arms and legs are exactly like the four
sail s of a windmill. How long have you been hereBy the devil’s mercy,
” replied Joannes Frollo,“more
than four hours,and I hope they will be counted into my
time of purgatory. I heard the king of Sicily’
s eightchanters strike up the first verse of high mass at seveno ’clock in the Holy Chapel.
Rare chanters,forsooth rejoined the other, with
voices sharper than their pointed caps ! The king, beforehe founded a mass to Monsieur St. John, ought to have
rn s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 9
ascertained whether Monsieur St. John is fond of Latinchanted with a Provencal twang .
”
And i t was to employ those cursed singers of the king
of Sicily that he did i t !"cried an old woman among the
crowd at the foot of the window. Only think ! a thousand livres Parisis for one mass, and granted ou t of thefarm-rent of the sea-fish sold in the market of Paris, intothe bargainSilence ! ejaculated a lusty, portly personage, who
was holding his nose by the side of the fishwoman
how could the king help founding a mass ? Would youhave him fal l ill againAdmirably spoken
,sire Gilles Lecornu , master- furrier
of the king 8 robes shouted the little scholar clinging tothe capital.A general peal of laughter from his comrades greetedthe unlucky name of the poor master-furrier of the king
’
8
robes .Lecornu Gilles Lecornu cried some of them .
Com utas et hirsu tus,"said anbther.
Ay, no doubt,” replied the li ttle demon of the capitaL
‘Vhat i s there to laugh at ? An honourable man, GillesLecornu , brother of Maste r Jehan Lecornu, provost of theking
'
s household,son of Master Mahiet Lecornu
,first
porter of the wood of Vincennes, all citi zens of Pari s, allmarried from father to son 1”
A fresh explosion of mirth succeeded all eyes were fixedon the fat masten furrier
,who
,without uttering a word
in reply,strove to wi thdraw himself from the publi c gaze
but in vain he puffed and struggled till he was coveredwi th perspiration : the efforts which he made served onlyto wedge in hi s bloated apoplecti c face
,purple wi th rage
and vexation,the more firmly between the shoulders of hi s
neighbours.At length, one of these
,short
,pursy
,and venerable as
him self, had the courage to take his part.What abomination ! Scholars dare to talk thus to a
citi zen In my time they would have been scourged withrods and burned with them afterwards.
10 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
The whole band burst out, Soho ! who sings thattune ! What screech-owl of ill omen is that ?Stay I know him,
" said one ’t is Master Andry
Musnier.”
One of the four sworn booksellers to the University,said another.
Every thing goes by fours at that shop,cried a
third : “ the four nations, the four faculties, the four festivals
,the four proctors
,the four electors
,the four book
sellers.Musnier, we will burn thy books !Mu snier, we will beat thy serving-manMusnier, we will tear thy wife
’s rags off her back l ”
The good fat Mademoiselle Oudarde.
”
WVho i s as fresh and as buxom as though she were awidow.
”
The devil fetch you all ! ” muttered Master AndryMusnier.
Master Andry,rejoined Jehan, still perched on hi s
capital, hold thy tongue, man, or I will drop upon thyhead .
Master Andry lifted his eyes,appeared to be measuring
for a moment the height of the pillar, estimating the weigh tof the wag, mentally multiplying this weight by the squareof the veloci ty
,and he held his tongue .
Jehan , master of the field of battle,triumphantly con
tinned, I woul d do it too,though I am the brother of
an archdeacon .
Pretty gentry those belonging to our uni versities noteven to enforce respect for our privileges on such a day a sthis
Down with the rector, the electors, and the proctorscried Joannes.Let us make a bonfire tom ight with Master Audry
’sbooks in the Champ Gaillard exclaimed another.And the desks of the scribes said his neighbour.And the wands of the bedels
s And the chair of the rector !Down,
"responded li ttle Jehan , down with Master
m s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAMEu l l
Andry,the bedels
,and the scribes ! down with the theo
logians, the physicians, and the decretists down with the
proctors , the el ectors, and the rectorI t must surely be the end of the world ! murmured
Mas ter Andry,clapping his hands to his ears .
The rector ! there goes the rector cried one of thoseat the window.
Al l eyes were instantly turned towards the Place .I s i t really our venerable rector
,Master Thibau t ?
enqui red Jehau Frollo du Moul in,who
,from his position
on the pillar within,could not see what was passing
without.Yes
,yes
,replied the others, t i s he !
’ t is Maste rThibau t, the rectorI t was
,in fact, the rector and al l the dignitaries of the
uni versi ty,going in procession to meet the embas sy, and
at that moment crossing the palace-yard. The scholarswho had taken post at the window greeted them as theypassed with sarcasms and ironical plaudits. The rector
,
who was at the head of his company, received the firstvolley
,which was a sharp one.Good morrow, Mr. Rector Soho ! good morrow
thenHow has he managed to get hi ther— the old gambler ?
how could he leave his dice ?Ho
,there ! Mr. Rector Thibaut
,how often did you
throw double- six last night ?How he trots along on his mule ! I declare the
beast’s ears are not so long as his master’
sOh the cadaverous face haggard
,wrinkled
,and
wizened, with the love of gaming and di cing !Presently i t came to the turn of the other dignitaries .Down with the bedels down with the mace-bearersRobin Poussepain, who is that yonder ?
”
“ It is Gilbert le Suilly,chancellor of the college of
Autun .
”
Here, take my shoe you are in a better p lace than Iam throw it at his head .
Saturnal itias m ittimus ecce nuces .
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 1 3
been wai ting ever since morning for three things noon,the Flanders embassy, and the mystery . Noon alone hadbeen punctual to its time . This was rather too bad .
They waited one, two, three, five minutes, a quarter ofan hour ; nothing came. Not a creature appeared eitheron the platform or on the stage . Meanwhile impatiencegrew into irri tation . Angry words were circulated, at first,i t is true
,in a low tone . The mystery ! the mystery !
”
was faintly muttered. A storm,whi ch as yet only rumbled
at a distance,began to gather over the crowd. I t was
Jehan du Moulinwho drew from i t the first spark .The mystery
,and let the Flemings go to the devil !
shouted he,with all his might, twisting like a snake about
his capital. The crowd clapped their hands . The myste ry they repeated
,and send Flanders to all the devils
Let us instantly have the mystery,
” resumed the
scholar,or I recommend that we should hang the bailiff
of the palace by way of comedy and morality .”
l Vel l said cried the people and let us begin withhanging the sergeants !Prodigious were the acclamations that followed . The
four poor devils turned pale, and began to look at eachother. The crowd moved towards them
,and they saw the
frail wooden balustrade which separated them from thepeople al ready bending and giving way to the pressure ofthe multitude.The moment was critical. Down , down with them
was the cry,which resounded from all sides . At this in
stant the tapestry of the dressing- room,which we have
described above, was thrown open, and forth issued a personage, the mere sight of whom suddenly appeased the
crowd, and changed, as if by magic, i ts indignation in tocuriosity.Silence silence was the universal cry.The personage in question
,shaking with fear in every
limb, advanced to the edge o f the marble table, with afusion of bows, which, the nearer he approached, more andm ore resembled genufiex ions . Meanwhile
,tranqui lli ty was
pretty well restored ; nothing was to be heard but thatslight noise which always rises even from a silent crowd.
1 4, THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
M ess ieu rs les bourgeois, and M esderhois el les les bour
geoises,”said he
,we are to have the honour of declaim
ing and performing, before his eminence Monsieur theCardinal
,a very goodl y morality, called The good Judg
ment of M adame the Virgin M ary. The part of Jupiterwill be enacted by myself. His eminence is at this momen t attending the most honourable the embassy of Monsieu r the Duke of Austria, which i s detained till now tohear the speech of Monsieur the rector of the university
,
at the gate of Baudets. The moment his eminence thecardinal arrives
,we shall begin .
I t i s very certain that nothing but the interposition ofJupiter saved the necks of the four unlucky sergeants ofthe bailiff of the palace . Had we even the honour of inventing this most true history
,and were we in consequence
responsible for it before the tribunal of criticism,i t i s not
against us that the classi c precept of antiquity, N ee Deus
interact , could at this moment he adduced . For the rest,
the costume of his godship was very superb, and had contributed not a li ttle to quiet the crowd by engrossing allthei r attention . He was attired in a b l igandine of blackvel vet with gilt studs ; on his head he wore a helmet,adorned wi th silver gilt buttons : and, but for the rougeand the thick beard
,which divided his face between them ;
but for the roll of gilt pasteboard, garnished al l over withstripes of tinsel
,which he held in hi s hand
,and in which
the practised eye easily recognised the thunderbolt of Jove ;but for hi s flesh- coloured legs, and feet sandaled after theGreek fashion ; he might have sustained a comparison forhis stately port with a Breton archer of the corps of Monsieur de Berry .
CHAPTER I I .
PIERRE GRINGOI R E .
WH ILE he was Speaking, however, the uni versal satisfaction,nay, admiration, excited by his costume, was dispelled by
“
rm: HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 1 5
his words and when he arrived at that unfortunate conelusion , The moment his eminence the cardinal arrives
,
we shall begin,
” his voice was drowned by the hootings ofthe multitude .The mystery the mystery Begin immediately !
shou ted the people. And, amid the tempest of voices washeard that of Joannes de Molendino
, which pierced throughthe uproar like a fife in a band of rough music : Beginimmediately screeched the young scholar .
Down with Jupiter and the Cardinal de Bourbon !vociferated Robin Poussepain and the other clerks rooste din the window.
The morality immediately ! ” repeated the populacethis instant ! or the sack and the cord for the comediansand the cardinal !
Poor Jupi ter,affrighted, aghast, pale beneath his rouge,
dropped his thunderbolt, took off his helmet, and bowedtrembling and stammering : His eminence the ambassadors Madame Margaret of Flanders He knewnot what to say. In good sooth he was afraid of beinghanged — hanged by the populace for wai ting
,hanged by
the cardinal for not waiting : he had the same prospect onei ther side
,that is to say
,the
-
gallows . Luckily for him,
another person came forward to extri cate him from thisdilemma, and to assume the responsibility.An individual who had stationed himself within the
balustrade,in the vacan t space left around the marble table
,
and whom no one had yet perceived,so completely was his
tall slender figure screened from sight by the diameter ofthe pillar agains twhich he had been leaning— this individual
,
tall and slender,as we have said
,fair
,pale
,sti ll young,
though his forehead and cheeks were already wrinkled, withsparkling eyes and smiling lips, habited in black serge wornthreadbare with age
,approached the marble table, and made
a sign to the horror-stricken actor, who was too much en
grossed to notice him .
He advan ced a step farther. Jupi ter said he ;“my
dear Jupi ter ! ” Still the other heard him not. At length,the tall pale man
,losing his patien ce
,call ed out almost
,under his very nose, Michel Giborne !
1 6 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
Who cal ls me said Jupiter,starting like one sud
denly awakened.I,” replied the personage in black.Aha ! ” said Jupiter.Begin immediately
,
”rejoined the other. Comply withthe wish of the audience. I undertake to pacify Monsieurthe bailiff
,who will pacify Monsieur the cardinal.
Jupiter breathed again .
Gentlemen citizens,”cried be with all the force of his
lungs to the crowd who continued to hoot him,we shall
begin forthwith .
”
E voe, Jup iter P laudz'
te cives shouted the scholars.Huzza ! huzza ! cried the popul ace.A clapping of hands that was absolutely deafening en.
sued ; and, after Jupiter had retired behind his tapestry,the hall still shook with acclamations .Meanwhile, the unknown personage, who had so ma
gically laid the tempest, had modestly withdrawn into thepenumbra of his pill ar, where he would no doubt have remained invisible
,motionless
,and mute as before
,but for
two young femal es,who
,being in the front rank of the
spectators,had remarked his colloquy with Michel Giborne
Jupiter.Master said one of them,
beckoning him to cometo her.Hold your tongue
,my dear Lienarde, said her neigh
bour, a buxom,fresh- coloured damsel, gaily tired in her
Sunday bravery,he is not a clerk, but a layman ; you
must not call him master,but messire.
Messire said Lienarde.
The unknown advanced to the balustrade. What wouldyou with me, my pretty damsels enquired he eagerly.
Oh ! nothing,
” said Lienarde, quite confused i t ismy neighbour
,Gisquette la Gencienne, who wants to speak
to you .
Not so,replied Gisquette, blushing ;
“ i t was Lienarde who called you M as ter, and I told her she must sayM es s ire.
”
The two young females cast down their eyes. The other,
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 1 7
who desired nothing be tter than to engage them in conversation
,surveyed them with a smile.
Then you have nothing to say to me ?O dear
,no ! ” answered Gisquette.
Nothing,said Lienarde.
The tall fair young man was just retiring, but the twoinquisitive girls had no mind to let him go so easily .
Messire,
” said Gisquette, with the impetuosi ty of asluice that is opened
,or of a woman who has taken her
resolution,you must know that soldier who is to play the
part of the Virgin Mary in the mysteryY ou mean the part of Jupi ter ? ” rej oined the un
known .
Ah yes ! said Lienarde she is stupid, I think.Y ou know Jupi ter, then
Michel Giborne P” answered the pale man .madam .
”
What a goodly heard he has ! said Lienarde.
W ill i t be fine— what they are going to say up there ?
timidly enquired Gisquette.
Mighty fine,I assure you, replied the unknown, with
out the least hesi tation .
What will i t be ?”said Lienarde .
T he good Judgment of M adame the Virgin, a morality,an ’t please you, madam .
Ah ! that’s a different thing
,rej oined Lienarde.
‘A short silence ensued ; i t was broken by the unknowninforman t. This morality i s qui te a new piece ; i t hasnever been performed .
”
Then,
” said Gisquette, i t is not the same that wasgiven two years ago
,at the entry of Monsieur the legate
,
in which three handsome young girl s enacted the partsof
Of syrens,continued Lienarde.
And quite naked,
"added the young man .
Lienarde modestly cast down her eyes Gisquette lookedat her and did the same. He then proceeded
,with a smile
,
That was a pleasant sight enough this morali ty to- daywas ~composed expressly for the Princess of Flanders .”Will there be any love- songs in i t ask ed Gisquette.
c
1 8 m s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
O fie ! in a morali ty ! said the unknown ; theywould be inconsistent with the character of the piece. I fi t were a mummery
,well and good.
What a pity ! exclaimed Gisquette . On that daythere were at the conduit of Ponceau wild men and womenwho fought together
,and put themselves into a great many
attitudes, singing little songs all the while .”
What is fi t for a legate,
” dr ily replied the unknown,
may not be fi t for a princess.And near them
,
” resumed Lienarde, was a band ofmusicians playing delightful tunes .
”
And,for the refreshmen t of passengers
,
” continuedGisquette, the condui t threw out wine
,milk
,and by.
pocras, at three mouths, for every one to drink that listed.”
And a little below the Ponceau,
”proceeded Lienarde,
at the Trini ty, the Passion was repres ented by persons,without speaking.
I f I recollect right,cried Gisquette, i t was Christ
on the cross, and the two thieves on the right and left."
Here the young gossips,warming at the recollection of
the entry of Monsieur the legate, began to speak both together.And further on, at the Porte aux Peintres, there were
other characters magnificently dressed.
And at the conduit of St. Innocent,a hun ter pur
suing a doe with a great noise of dogs and horns.”
And then,at the shambles, those scaffolds representing
DieppeAnd when the legate passed, you know, Gisquette,
how our people attacked it,and all the Engl ish had their
throats cut.”
And then the superb pe rsonages a t the Pon t au Change,which was covered all over with an awning.
”
And as the legate passed, more than'
two hundreddozen of all sorts of birds were let loose upon the bridge .What a fine sight that was
,Lienarde
This will be a finer to- day,
” remarked the interlocutor,
who seemed to listen to them with impatien ce.You promise us
,then
,that this mystery W ill be a very
fine one ?” said Gisquette.
run Hunos naox os NOTRE-DAME. 19
Certainly,replied he, adding, with a degree of em
phasis,I made i t myself.”
Indeed exclaimed the young females in amazemen t.Indeed !
” responded the poet, bridling up a li ttlethat is to say
,there are two of us ; Jehan Marchand,
who sawed the planks and put together the wood-work ofthe theatre, and I who wrote the piece. My name is PierreGringoire."
The author of the C id could not have said with grea ter
pride, Pierre Corneille.Our readers may probably have perceived that some time
mu st have elapsed, between the moment when Jupiter disappeared behind the tape stry and that in which the authorof the new morali ty revealed himself so abruptly to thesimple admiration of Gisquette and Lienarde. I t was anex traordinary circumstance that the crowd, a few minutesbefore so tumul tuous, now waited most meekly on the faithof the comedian which proves that everlasting truth , confi rmed by daily experience in our theatres, that the bestway to make the public wai t with patience is to affirm that
you are just going to begin.At any rate
,the young scholar Joannes did not fall asleep
at his post.Soho
,there he shouted all at once
,amidst the quiet
ex pectation which had succeeded the disturbance. Jupite r,Madame the Virgin, puppets of the devil, are ye makingyour game of us ? The mystery ! The mystery ! Begin atonce, or look to yourselves.
”
This was quite enough to produce the desired effect. Aband of instruments, high and low, in the interior of thetheatre, commenced playing ; the tapestry was raised, andforth came four persons bepainted and bedecked wi th variouscalours
, who climbed the rude stage- ladder, and, dn reach.
ing the upper platform, drew up in a row before the au
dienes , to whom they paid the usual tribute of low obeisance.The symphony ceased, and the mystery commenced.The performers, having been liberall y repaid for their
obei sances wi th applause, began, amidst solemn silen ce onthe part of the audience
,a prologu e, which we gladly spare
the reader. On this occasion, as i t often happens at thec 2
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 2 1
metaphors,there was not a more attentive ear, a more
vehemently throbbing heart,a wilder- looking eye, a more
outstretched neck,than the eye, the ear, the neck, and the
heart of the author, of the poet, of the worthy Pierre Grin.
goire, who a few moments before could not deny himselfthe pleasure of telling his name to two handsome girls. Hehad retired a few paces from them
,behind his pillar and
there he listened,he watched, he relished . The hearty
applause which had greeted the opening of his prologuestill rang in his ears ; and he was completely absorbed inthat kind of ecstati c contemplation wi th which an authorsees his ideas drop one by one from the lips of the actor,amid the silence of a vast assembly.lVith pain we record it, this first ecstasy was soon dis
tu rbed . Scarcely had Gringoire raised to his lips the intox icating cup of j oy and triumph, when i t was dashed withbitterness.A ragged mendicant, who coul d make nothing by hisvocation, lost as he was among the crowd, and who had,probably, not found a sufficient indemni ty in the pockets ofhis neighbours
,conceived the idea of perching himself upon
some conspicuous point, for the purpose of attracting noti ce
and alms. During the delivery of the prologu e, he hadaccordingly scrambled
,by the aid of the pillars of the re
served platform,up to the cornice which ran round i t below
the balustrade,and there he seated himself silently
,soli
citing the notice and the pity of the multi tude by his ragsand a hideous sore which covered his right arm .
The prologue was proceeding without molestation,when
,
as ill luck would have i t,Joannes Frollo, f rom the top of
his pillar, espied the mendi cant and his grimaces . Anou trageous fi t of laughter seized the young wag
,who
,caring
l ittle about interrupting the performance and disturbingthe profound attention of the audience
,merrily cried
,
Only look at that rapscallion begging yonder‘Reader, if you have ever thrown a stone in to a pondswarming with frogs
,or fired a gun at a covey of birds
,
you may form some conception of the effect produced byt his incongruous exclamation
,amidst the general silence
and attention. Gringoire started as at an electri c shock ;c 3
~ 22 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
the prologue stopped short, and every head turned tumul tuously towards the mendicant, who, so far from beingdisconcerted, regarded this inciden t as a favourable opportunity for making a harvest, and began to drawl out, in adoleful tone, and with half closed eyes, Charity
,if you
please !Why
,upon my soul
,resumed Joannes
,
’
t i s ClopinTrouillefou Hoho my fine fellow
,you found the wound
on your leg in the way,and so you
’
ve clapped it on yourarm,
have youAs he thus spoke
,he threw
,with the dexterity of a
monkey,a piece of smal l coin in to the greasy hat whi ch
the beggar held with his ailing arm. The latter pocketed,
without wincing,both the money and the
co ntinued,in a lamentable tone
,Chari ty, if you please
This episode considerably distracted the attention of theaudience ; and a number of the spectators, with RobinPoussepain and all the clerks at their head, loudly applaudedthi s extempore duet, performed, in the middle
“
of the prologue
,by the scholar with his squeaking voice and the
mendicant with hi s monotonous descant.Gringoire was sorely displeased. On recovering from his
first stupefaction,he bawled out lustily to the four actors
the stage,Why the devil do ye stop ? Go on go
on wi thout even condescending to cast a look of di sdainat the two interrupters.At this moment he felt a twitch at the skirt of hi s surtout ; he turned round in an ill humour, and had sormediffi culty to raise a smile, which, however, he could notsuppress . I t was the plump, handsome arm of Gisquette laGencienne, thrust through the balustrade, which thus aolicited his attention .Sir
,
” said the damsel,will they go on with the
mysteryMost certainly
,replied Gringoire
,not a little shocked
at the question .
In that case,Messire
,she resumed, will you have
the courtesy to explain to meWhat they are going to say ? asked Gringoire, in ter
rupting her. Well, listen .”
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE -DAME . 23
No, rejomed Gisquette, but what they have been
saying so far.”
Gringoire started like a person wi th a wound which youhave touched in the quick .A plague on the stupid wench muttered be be tween
his teeth.
Gisquette had completely ruined herself in his goodOpinion .
The actors had, meanwhile, obeyed his injunction andthe publi c, seeing that they had resumed the performan ce,began again to listen, but not without losing a great manybeauties
,from the abrupt division of the piece in to two
parts,and the species of soldering whi ch they had to nu
dergo. Such, at least, was the painful reflection mentall ymade by Gringoire. Tranquilli ty, however, was gradual lyres tored ; the scholar held his tongue, the beggar countedthe money in hi s hat
,and the piece proceeded swimmingly .
I t was, in truth , a masterly work and we verily believethat managers might avail themselves of i t at the presentday, with some modifications . The plot was simple ; andGringoire, in the candid sanctuary of his own bosom, ad
mired its clearness . As the reader may easily conceive, the
four allegori cal characters were somewhat fatigued withtheir tour through the three parts of the world
,withou t
finding an opportuni ty of disposing, agreeably to their intendons, of their golden dolphin . Thereupon followed apanegyric on the marvell ous fish, wi th a thousand deli cateallusions to the young bridegroom of Margaret of Flanders,a t tha t moment sadly shut up at Amboise
,and never
dreaming that Labour and Clergy, Nobili ty and Trade, ha dbeen making a tour of the world on his account. The saiddolphin, then, was young, handsome, bold, and, above all,magnificent origin of every royal virtue the son of
the lion of France . I declare that this bold metaphor istruly admirable and that the natural history of the theatreis not at al l startled
,on an occasion of this kind, at a
dolphin, the offspring of a lion . I t i s precisely these out.of-the-way and Pinda ri c medleys that are evidences of en.thus iasm. Criti cal justice
,nevertheless
,requires the admis
s ion that the poe t ought to have developed this original0 4«
24 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .h
idea in somewha t less than the compass of two hundredverses . I t is true that the mystery was to last from thehour of twelve till that of four, according to the ordinanbeof monsieur the provost
,and that i t was absolutel y ne
cessary to say something or other. Besides,the audience
listened very patiently .
All at once,in the midst of ,a quarrel between Mademoi
selle Trade and M adame Nobili ty,at the moment when
Master Labour was delivering this emphati c line
More state ly beastwas ne’er in forest seen,
the door of the reserved platform , which had hitherto re‘mained so unseasonably closed
,was still more unseasonably
thrown open, and the sonorous voice of the usher abruptlyannounced
,H is Eminence M onseigneur the Ca rdina l of
Bourbon.
”
CHAPTER I I I .
MONSE IGNEUR TH E CARDINAL.
Poon GRINGO IRE the noise of all the big double petardsat St. John
’
s, the discharge of a hundred matchlocks, the de
tonation of that famous serpentine of the Tower of Bi lly,which
,at the siege of Paris
,on the 29th of September, 1465,
killed seven Burgundians by one shot, nay, the explosionof all the gunpowder in the magazine at the gate of theTemple
,would not have so shocked his ear at that solemn
and dramatic moment as these few words from the lips ofan usher H is Eminence M ons eigneur the Cardina l ofB ourbon.
Not that Pierre Gringoire either feared or disdainedMonsieur the Cardinal he had neither that weakness northat arrogance . A genuine eclectic, as we should say nowa-days
,Gringoire possessed one of those firm and elevated,
calm and moderate minds,which always know how to steer
a middle course,and are full of reason and liberal philo
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 25
sophy,at the same time that they make much of cardinal s
— ah admirable race, widely separated from that of thephil osophers ; to whomWisdom,
like anotherAriadne,seems
to have given a ball of thread which they keep winding upfrom the commencement of the world, through the labyrinth of human affairs. We find them always and everywhere the same
,that is to say, ever accommodating them
selves to the times. And,without reckoning our Pierre
Gringoire,who might be their represen tative in the fifteenth
century,if we were to bestow on him that illustration which
he deserves , i t was certainly their spirit which animatedFather Du Breul , when he wrote, in the sixteenth, thesesimply sublime words
,worthy of al l ages I am a
Parisian by nation,and a Parrhisian by speech for Par
rhis ia,in Greek
,signifies liberty of speech, the which I
have used even un to Messeigneurs the cardinals,uncle and
brother o f Monseigneur the Prince of Conty : at the sametime with respect for their high dignity
,and without giving
offence to any one of their retinue, which, methinks , issaying a great deal.”
There was, then, nei ther hatred of the Cardinal nor disdain o f his presence in the disagreeable impression whichi t made on Pierre Gringoire. On the contrary
,our poet
had too much good sense, and too threadbare a frock, not
to,feel particularly anxious that many an allusion in his
prologue, and particularly the eulogy on the dolphin,the
s on of the lion of France, shoul d find its way to the ear ofa most eminent personage. But i t i s not in terest that predominates in the noble nature of poets. Supposing theenti ty of the poet to be represented by the number 1 0 ;i t is certain that a chemist, on analysing i t
,woul d find i t
to be composed of one part in terest and nine parts vani ty.Now, at the moment when the door opened for the Cardinal, the nine parts of Gringoire
’
s vanity,swollen and in
fiated by the breath of popul ar admiration,were in a state
of such prodigious enlargemen t as completely to smotherthat imperceptible particle of in terest whi ch we just nowdiscovered in the consti tution of poets ; a most valuableingred ien t, nevertheless, the ballast of reality and of hu
manity, wi thout whi ch they would never descend to this
26 THE HUNCEBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
lower world. Gringoire was delighted to see, to feel insome measure, a whole assembly, of varlets, i t is true— butwhat does that signify — stupified, petrified, and strickenas i t were insensible
,by the immeasurable speeches which
succeeded each other in every part of his epithalamium .
I affirm that he participated in the general happiness, and
that,unlike La Fontaine, who, on the first representation
of his comedy of The F lorentine,” enquired, What
paltry scribbler wrote this rhapsody . Gringoire wouldgl adly have asked his neighbour
,W h o 1 s the author of
this master-piece . Now imagine what must have beenthe effect produced upon him by the abrupt and unseasonable arrival of the Cardinal.What he had reason to apprehend was but too soon
realised. The entry of his Eminence upset the auditory .All heads tu rned mechanically towards the platform . Notanother word was to be heard. The Cardinal ! the Cardinal ! ” was upon every tongue . The unlucky prologuewas cut short a second time.The Cardinal paused for a moment on the threshold of
the platform, with supercilious looks sur veying the audi tory.Meanwhile the tumul t increased ; each striving to raisehis head above his neighbour
’
s to obtain a better view of
his Eminence.He was, in fact, a very distinguished personage, the
sight of whom was well worth any other comedy. Charles,
Ca rdinal of Bourbon,Archbishop and Coun t of Lyons
,pri
mate of the Gauls,was at once allied to Louis XI . through
his brother Pierre, Lord of Beaujeu,who was married to
the King’s eldest daughter,and to Charles the Bold by his
mother, Agnes of Burgundy. Now the predominant, thedistinctive, trai t in the character of the primate of theGauls was a courtier- spiri t and devotedness to power. The
reader may form some conception of the numberless embarrassments in which he had been involved by this twofold relationship
,and of the temporal rocks among which
his spiri tual bark had been obliged to luff; that i t mightnot be wrecked either against Louis or against Charles
,
that Charybdis and Scylla which had engulfed the Dukeof Nemours and the Constable of St. Pol . Thanks to
THE HUNCHBACK OP N‘O ’
I'RE-DAME.
Heaven, he had contri ved pretty well to escape the dangersof the voyage, and had arrived at Rome without obstruction.But
,though he was in port
,and precisely because he was
in port,he could never call to mind without agi tation the
various chances of his political life, so long harass ed bylabours and alarms. Accordingly, he was accustomed to
say that the year 14-76 had been to him both black and
white thereby meaning that he had lost in that year hismother the Duchess of Bourbonnais
,and his cousin the
Duke of Burgundy,and that one mourning had consoled
him for the other.In o ther respects he was a good sort of man he led a
j ovial li fe as cardinal,loved to make merry with the growth
of the royal vineyard of Chaillot, did not hate the gamesome Ri charde la Garmoise and Thomasse la Saillarde,bestowed alms on young damsels rather than on wrinkledb ags, and for all these reasons was a great favouri te withthe populace of Paris . Wherever he wen t he was surrounded by a little court of bishops and abbots of highfamilies, wenchers and boon companions, who had no oh
jection to join in a carouse and more than once the piou ssouls of St. Germain d
'
Aux erre, as they passed in the evening under the illumined windows of the Cardinal’s residence
, had been scandalised on hearing the same voiceswhich had chanted vespers to them a few hours beforelustily singing, to the clatter of glasses
,the bacchanalian
song of Benedi ct XI I .,that pope who added a third crown
to the tiara B ibamus papa liter.
I t was no doubt this popularity,to which he was so
justly entitled, that preserved him at his en trance from anyunfavourable demonstrations on the part of the crowd
,
whi ch a moment before had been so dissatisfied,and by no
means disposed to pay respect to a cardinal on the veryday that they were going to elect a pope . But the Pari:sians are not apt to bear mali ce ; and besides, by insistingon the commencement of the performance
,the honest citi
zens had gained a victory over the Cardinal,and this
triumph was enough for them . Moreo ver, Monsieur theCardinal of Bourbon was a comely man he had a superlfscarlet robe, which he wore very gracefull y of course he
THE B UNCH BACK or NOTRE-DAME. $29
All these circumstances, which we here reveal for the
edification of the reader, were so smothered by the generaltumult as to pass unnoti ced by the reverend party on theplatform : had it, indeed, been otherwise, the Cardinalwould not have heeded them, so deeply were the libertiesof that day engrafted on the manners of the age. He was,moreover
,wholly pre- occupied and his countenance
showed it— by another solicitude, which closely pursuedhim
,and
,indeed
,entered the platform almost at the same
time with him,namely, the Flanders embassy.
Not that he was a profound politician, and was calcula ting the possible consequences of the marriage of hiscousin Margaret of Burgundy with his cousin Charles,Dauphin of Vienne or how long the good understanding patched up between the Duke of Austria and theKing of France was likely to last or how the Kingof England would take the slight offered to his daughterthese matters gave him no uneasiness, and he enjoyed himself every evening over the royal growth of Chai llot
,with
ou t ever dreaming that a few bottles of the same winefirst doctored a li ttle, i t is tru e, by Coictier the physiciancordially presented to Edward IV. by Louis XI . wouldone day rid Louis XI . of Edward IV. The most honourable the embassy of Monsieur the Duke of Austria broughtupon the Cardinal none of these cares but i t vexed him inanother way. I t was in truth rather hard, as we havealready observed at the beginning of this book
,that he
,
Charles of Bourbon, should be obliged to give hearty welcome and good entertainment to paltry ci tizens he
,a car
dinal, to burgomasters ; he, a Frenchman, a boon companion, to Flemings fond of beer — and that too inpublic. This was certainly one of the most disagreeabletasks he had ever undertaken to please the King.He turned
,therefore, towards the door, and with the
best grace in the world — so well had he studied his partwhen the usher
,wi th his sonorous voice
,announced
Messieurs the Envoys of Monsieur the Duke of Austria.I t is scarcely necessary to remark that all the spectatorsdid the same.The forty-eight ambassadors of Maximilian of Austria,
30 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
headed by the reverend father in God, Jehan, Abbot of '
St. Bertin, Chancellor of the Golden Fleece,and Jacques .
de Goy, Sieur Dauby, High-bai liff of Ghent, then enteredtwo and two, with a gravity which formed a remarkablecontrast amidst the volatile ecclesiastical retinue of Charlesof Bourbon . Deep silence pervaded the assembly
,broken
only by stifled laughter at the“ mention of the uncouthnames and all the petty ti tles which each of these personages repeated with imperturbable solemnity to the usher,who then flung them, names and qualities pel ell andcruelly mangled, among the crowd. There was MasterLoys Roelof
,
‘ echevin of the city of Louvain MessireClays d
’
E tuelde, echevin of Brussels ; Messire Paul deBaeust
,Sieur de Vormizelle, President of Flanders ;
Master Jehan Coleghens, burgomaster of the city of
Antwerp Master George de la Moere,and Master Ghel
dolf van der Hage,echevins of the city of Ghent ; and
the Sieur de Bierbecque, Jeban Pinnock, Jehan Dymaer
zelle, &c. &c. bailiffs, echevins, burgomasters ; burgo
masters,echevins
,bailiffs all stiff, starched, formal, tri cked
out in velvets and damasks, and ensconced in caps of blackvelvet wi th prodigious tassels of Cyprus gold thread fineFlemish heads after all, with austere but goodly faces, °o f
the same family as those which Rembrandt has broughtou t
,so grave and so expressive
,from the dark ground of
his night- piece personages who all had it written on theirbrows that Maximilian of Austri a had good reason to
place ful l confidence,” as his manifesto declared
,
“ intheir discretion, firmness, experience, loyalty, and rarequa li ties .
”
There was, however, one exception . This was a sharp,intelligent, crafty-looking face, a physiognomy compounded(If that of the monk ey a nt—1m diplomatist, towards theowner of which the Cardinal advanced three steps with alow bow
,and whose name
,nevertheless, was plain Guillaume
R ym,councillor and pensionary of the city,
of Ghent.Few persons there knew who this Guillaume Rym was .
He was a man of rare genius, who in times of revolution !would have raised himself to distinction, but was. forcedin the fifteenth century to resort to the hollow ways of
rm: HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 3 1
intri gue, and to live in the gaps , as saith the Duke of St.Simon . For the rest, he was duly appreciate d by thefirst supper in Europe : he wrought in familiar concertwi th Louis X L, and frequently lent a helping hand to theKing in his secret necessi ties — circumstances absolute lyunknown to the crowd, who marvelled at the respect paidby the Cardinal to so insignificant a person as the Flemishbailiff.
CHAPTER IV.
MASTER JACQUES COPPENOLE.
l LE the pensionary of Ghent and his Eminence wereexchanging a low obeisance and a few words in a still lowertone
,a man of lofty sta ture, wi th joll y face and broad
shoulders, s tepped forward for the purpose of ente ringabreast with Guillaume Rym : they looked for all the worldlike a bgll -dgg bgsjde a fox. His felt cap and leathernves t were conspicuous amids t the velvets and silks whichsurrounded him . Presuming that he was some groom whohad mistaken the way, the usher stopped him.
No admittance here,my friend, said he.
The man in the leathern vest pushed him back.What means the fellow ?
"cried he in a voice which
drew the attention of the whole hall to this strange colloquyDost not see that I belong to themYour name asked the usher .Jacques Coppenole.
”
Your qualityHosier at the sign of the Three Chains in Ghen t.
The usher was staggered. To have to announce bailiffs,
and burgomasters,
a and echevrns , was bad enough ; but ahosier l— no— he could not make up his mind to that.The Cardinal was upon thorns. The whole assembly wasall eye and ear. For two days his Eminence had beentaking pains to li ck these Flemish bears, in order to make
3 2 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
them a li ttle more producible in public,and his failure was
galling. Meanwhile, Guil laume Rym,with his sly smile
,
stepped up to the usher, and said in a very low whisperAnnounce Master Jacques Coppenole, clerk to the
echevins of the city of Ghent.”
Usher,"said the Cardinal in a loud tone
,announce
Master Jacques Coppenole, clerk to the echevins of .the
most noble city of Ghent.”
Now i t is very certain that Guillaume Rym,had he been
left to himself, would have shuffled off the difficulty, butCoppenole had heard the Cardinal.
No, by the rood cried he,with his voice of thunder
,
Jacques Coppenole, hosier. Hark ye, usher, neithermore nor less. By the rood ! hosier - that ’s quite fine
enough ! Monsieur the Archduke has more than oncesought his gloves among my hose.
”
A burst of laughter and applause ensued. A witticismor a pun is instantly comprehended at Paris, and conse
quently sure to be applauded. Coppenole, be it moreoverobserved
,was one of the people, and the assembly by which
he was surrounded belonged to the same class. The communication between them was in consequence prompt,electric
,and hearty. The lofty bravado of the Flemish
hosier,at the same time that i t humbled the courtiers
,
awakened in all those plebeian minds a sense of dignity,
s ti ll but vague and indi stinct in the fifteenth century .
This hosier,who had just held Monsieur the Cardinal at
defiance,was their equal— a soothing reflection to poor
devils accustomed to pay obedience and respect to the ‘
servants of the very sergeants of the bail iff of the abbotof St. Genevieve, the train-bearer of the Cardinal .Coppenole bowed haughtily to the Cardinal, who returned the obeisance of the high and m ighty burgher
,
dreaded by Loui s XI . Then, whil e Guillaume Rym, acunning man and spiteful
,
” as saith Philip de Comines,
looked after bo th with a smile of conscious superiori ty,
they proceeded to their pla ces— the Cardinal mortified anddisconcerted ; Coppenole, calm and proud, thinking, nodoubt
,that his ti tle of hosier was as good as any other, and
that Mary of Burgundy, the mother of that Margaret
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 33
whose marriage Coppenole had come to negotiate, wouldhave felt less dread of him as a cardinal than as a hosierfor i t was not a cardinal who would have raised the peopleo f Ghent against the favourites of the daughter of Charlesthe Bold ; i t was not a cardinal who would have steeledthe multitude by a word against her tears and her en
treaties,when the princess of Flanders proceeded to the
very foot of the scaffold to beg their lives of her subjectswhils t the hosier had but to lift his finger and off wen tyour heads
,ye most illustrious gentlemen, Guy d
’
Hymber
court,and chancellor William Hugonet !
The poor cardinal's probation, however, was not yetover : he was doomed to drink to the very dregs the cupof penance for being in such company. The reader has
,
perhaps,not forgotten the impudent beggar, who at the
commencement of the prologue perched himself beneaththe fringe of the Cardinal
’
s gallery. The arrival of theillustrious guests had not dislodged him from his roost
,
and while the prelates and the ambassadors were packingthemselves
,like real Flemish herrings
,in the boxes of the
gallery,he had placed himself at his ease
,and carelessly
crossed his legs over the architrave. Nobody,however
,
had at fi rst noticed thi s extraordinary piece of insolence,
the universal attention being directed to another quarter.Nei ther was he
,on his part
,aware of what was going for
ward in the hall ; there he sat, rocking to and fro with theutmost unconcern
,repeating
,as from a mechani cal habit
,
the ditty of Charity,if you please ! ” To a certainty he
was the only one in the whole assembly who had notdeigned to turn his head at the altercation between Cop
penole and the usher. Now, as luck would have i t, thehosier of Ghent,withwhom the people already sympathisedso strongly
,and on whom all eyes were fixed
,took his seat in
the first row in the gallery, just above the mendicant.Great was
,nevertheless
,their astonishment
,at seeing the
Flemish ambassador, after taking a survey of the fellownestl ed under his nose
,slap him familiarly on his shoulder
covered with tatters. The mendicant turned sharply roundsurprise, recognition, pleasure, were expressed in bothfaces ; and then, without caring a pinch of snufl
' for then
34: THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
spectators,the hosier and the scurvy rogue shook hands,
and began to talk in a low tone, wh i le the rags of C lopinTrouil lefou ,
clapped against the cloth of gold with whichthe gallery was hung, produced the effect of a caterpillarupon an orange.The novelty of this singul ar scene excited su ch a burst
of merriment in the hall,that the cardinal could not help
noticing it ; he leaned forward, and as, from the placewhere he sat
,he had but a very imperfect view of the
squalid figure of Trouillefou , be naturally supposed that hewas soliciting alms : incensed at his audacity
,he cried
,
Mr. Baili ff of the Palace, throw me that varlet into theri ver.
Cross of God Monseigneur the Cardinal ! ” exclaimedCoppenole, that varlet is a friend of mine .Huzza ! huzza shouted the crowd. From that
moment,Master Coppenole had great influence over the
populace at Paris,as well as at Ghent ; for adds Philip
de Comines,
“men of that kidney are sure to have it,
when they are so beyond measure disorderly .”
The Cardinal hit his lips. Turning to his neighbour,
the abbot of St. Genevieve,he said in an under- tone
,
Right pleasan t ambassadors these,sent to us by Mon
sieur the Archduke to announce Madame Margaret !Your Eminence
,
”replied the abbot
,
“ is throwingaway your civili ties upon these Flemish hogs : margaritasante porcos .
”
Say rather,answered the Cardinal with a smile, per.
008 ante M argaritom .
"
The whole petty cassocked court was in raptures at thissally. The Cardinal felt somewhat relieved he was nowquits with Coppenole he too had gained applause for hispun .
Now,let such of our readers as are capable of general‘
ising an image and an idea, to adopt the phraseology of thepresent day
,permit us to ask if they have formed a clear
conception of the spe ctacle presented, at the moment towhich we are calling their attention , by the vast paral lelogram of the great hall of Paris . In the middle of the hall,backed against the western wall, a wide and magnificent
THE mmcnnacx or NOTRE-DAME . 35
gallery hung with gold brocade, into which, through asmall doorway with pointed arch, advance in processiona number of grave personages, successively announced bya bawling usher. On the front seats already many venerable figures
,muffled in ermine, velvet, and scarlet. On
the floor of the hall, in fron t and on either side of the gallery
,which maintains a dignified silen ce, a great
’ crowdand a great uproar. A thousand vulgar eyes fixed on everyface in the gallery ; a thousand whispers at every name .The scene
,forsooth
,is a curious one, and well deserving
the attention of the spectators . But what is that kind ofscaffold yonder at the farther end, on which are seen fourparty- coloured figures ? and who is that pale- faced man ina black frock at the foot of it ? Why, courteous reader,that is poor Pierre Gringoire and his prologue. We hadall quite and clean forgotten him ; and this was preciselywhat he was afraid of.
.From the moment that the Cardinal entered, Gringoirehad not ceased to bestir himself for the salvation of hi sprologue . At first he enjoined the actors, who were in astate of suspense
,to proceed and to raise their voices then ,
perceiving that nobody lis tened to them,he ordered them
to s top ; and for the quarter of an hour that the interruption had lasted he had been incessantly bustling about
,
ca lling upon Gisqu ette and Lienarde to encourage theirneighbours to call for the continuation of the prologuebut all in vain . Not a creature would turn away from theCardinal
,the embassy
,and the gallery
,the sole centre of
that vast circle of visual rays. There is also reason to believe
,and we record it with regret, that the audien ce was
beginning to be somewhat tired of the prologue,at the
moment when his Eminence arrived and made such a terrible diversion . After all, the gallery exhibited preciselythe same spectacle as the marble table the confli ct betweenLabour and Clergy
,Nobili ty and Trade. And many people
liked much better to see them without disgui se, living,brea thing, acting, elbowing one another
,in that Flemish
embassy, in that episcopal court, under the Cardinal’s robe
,
under the vest of Coppenole, than talking in verse, painted ,
tricked out, resembling effigies of straw stuffed into the yel1) 2
flTHE HUNCIIBACK or NOTRE- DAME. 0 7
Monseigneur,answered Master Guillaume Rym
,“we
ought to be glad that we have escaped half of the play.The loss is so much gained .
"
May those fellows continue their farce asked the
Go on, go on, said the Cardinal ;’t is the same to
me .The bailiff advanced to the front of the gallery, and
enjomed silence by a motion of his hand . Burgesses andinhabitants
,
”he cried
,to satisfy those who wish the piece
to proceed,and those who are desirous that i t should finish
,
his Eminence orders it to be continued .
The characters on the stage resumed their cue,and
Gringoire hoped that at any rate the rest of his piece wouldbe heard out. This hope, however, was destined, like hisother illusions
,to be very soon blasted . Silence was
,ih
deed,in some degree res tored among the audien ce, but
Gringoire had not observed that,at the moment when the
Cardinal ordered the mystery to be continued,the gallery
was far from full,and that
,after the Flemish envoys had
taken their seats,other persons
,forming part of the train
,
kept coming in,and the names and quali ties of these
,pro
claimed every now and then by the bawling voice of theusher
,broke in upon his dialogue and made great havoc
with it. Gringoire was the more incensed at this s trangeaccompaniment
,which rendered i t di fficult to follow the
piece, because he felt that the interest increased as i t proceeded
, and that his work needed nothing but to be heard .
Indeed, a more ingenious and more dramatic plot couldscarcely be invented. The four characters of the prologuewere bewailing their mortal embarrassment
,when Venus
appeared to them in person,attired in a robe embroidered
with the arms of the city of Paris. She came to preferher claim to the dolphin promised to the most beautifulfemale : i t was supported by Jupiter, whose thunder washeard rumbling in the dressing- room, and the goddess hadwell nigh carried her point
,that is to say
,without meta
phor, established her right to the hand of Monsieur theDauphin, when a child, in a dress of white damask, andholding a daisy — diaphanous personification of the prin
D 3
38 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
cess of Flanders entered the lists against Venus . Thisunexpected incident produced an instant change in the
state of affairs. After some con troversy, Venus, Margaret,and the whole party, agreed to refer the matter to the decision of the Holy Virgin . There was another strikingpart
,that of Don Pedro
,king of Mesopotamia but owing
to so many interruptions i t was difficult to discover i tsconnection with the plot of the piece .All these beauties were unfortunately neither appreciated
nor understood . The moment the Cardinal entered,i t was
as if an invisible and magic thread ha d suddenly drawn alleyes from the marble table to the gallery
,from the southern
extremity to the west side of the hall . Nothing couldbreak the spell thrown over the audience ; every eye remained fixed on one point
,and the new comers
,and their
confounded names,and their faces
,and their dresses
,created
an endless diversion . This was most mortifying. Excepting Gisquette and Lienarde, who turned about from timeto time when Gringoire pulled them by the sleeve
,and the
pursy patient neighbour,not a creature li stened
,or even
looked at the poor forsaken morality .
With what anguish of spirit did he see his whole edificeof glory and poesy tumbling down piecemeal To thinkthat the same auditory
,which had been on the point of
rebelling against Monsieur the bailiff from impatience tohear his work
,now that they might wi tness i ts perform
ance,cared nothing at all about it ! A performance, too,
which had begun amidst such unanimous applause Ohthe incessant flowing and ebbing of popular favour Hownear they had been to hanging the sergeants of the bailiffW hat would he not have given for the return of that delicions momentThe brutal monologue of the usher ceased at last ; all
the company had arrived : Gringoire breathed once more,and the actors proceeded with spiri t. All at once, whatshould Master Coppenole the hosier do, but rise from hisseat ? and Gri ngoire stood aghast to hear him , amidst thebreathless attention of the spectators, commence this she .
minable harangueGentlemen burgesses and yeomen of Paris, I know
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 39
not,by the m od, what we are about here. Down there,
on yonder stage, I see some mountebanks, who appear di sposed to fight . I cannot tell whether this i s what you calla mystery ; let it be what i t will, i t is not amusing : theybang one another with their tongues
,and that is all. Here
have I been waiting this quarter of an hour for the firstblow but nothing comes of i t : they are cravens only whoclapperclaw each other with abuse . You should have sentto London or Rotterdam for bruisers
,and
, by my faith !you would have had thumps which you would have heardall over the place ; but these paillards are contemptible .They might have given us at least a morris- dance or someother mummery . To be sure nothing was said about that ;they promise d me that I should see the festival of foolsand the election of pope . ‘Ve have our pope of fools atGhen t too
,and, by the rood, in this respect we are not
behind your famous city. But the way we do is thiswe collect a crowd
,such as there is here then every one
that likes puts his head in turn through a hole, and grinsat the others
,and he who makes the ugliest face is chosen
pope by acclamation that'
s i t.’
T is a diverting sight,I
assure you . Shall we choose your pope after the fashionof my country ? ’
T will be more amusing at any rate thanlistening to those praters . If they like to come and grinthrough the hole
,why
,let them . \Vhat say you
,gentle
men burgesses ? We have here a suffi cien tly grotesquespecimen of both sexes to raise a hearty laugh in theFlemish fashion ; and we have ugly faces enough amongus to expect a capital grimace.”
Gringoire would fain have replied,but horror
,indigna
tion, stupefaction , deprived him of utterance . Besides,the motion of the popular hosier was hailed wi th such eu
thusiasm by the citi zens,flattered with the appell ation of
yeomen, that resistance would have been useless. All thathe could now do was to resign himself to the stream.
4 0 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
CHAPTER V
QUASIMODO.
IN the twinkling of an eye, every thing was ready forcarrying into effect the idea of Coppenole . Burgesses
,
scholars,and lawyers
’
clerks had fallen to work . Theli ttle chapel opposite to the marble table was chosen for thescene of the grimaces. Having broken the glass in thepretty little round window over the door
,they agreed that
the competitors should put thei r heads through the circleof stone that was left. To enable them to reach it
,two
hogsheads were brought and set one upon the other. I twas determined that all candidates
,whether men or women
,
— for females were eligible should hide their faces,and
keep them covered in the chapel till the moment of exhibiting them,
that the impression of the grimace might bethe stronger. In a few minutes the chapel was full of
competitors, and the door was shut upon them.
Coppenole, from his place, ordered, directed, superin
tended all the arrangements . During the uproar,the Car
dinal,not less disconcerted than Gringoire
,having excused
himself on the plea of business and vespers,retired with
his retinue ; while the crowd, which his coming had so
strongly agitated,was scarcely aware of his departure.
Guil laume Rym was the only person that noticed the discom
posure of his Eminence. The popular attention, like thesun
,pursued its revolution ; setting out from one end of
the hall,after pausing some time in the middl e
,i t was now
at the other extremity . The marble table, the brocadedgallery
,had each had their moment i t was now the turn
of Louis X I.’
s chapel. The field was open to everyspecies of fun : the Flemings and the populace alone wereleft.The grimaces began . The first face that presented
itself at the window,with its red eyes and widely-gaping
mouth,and forehead puckered up in wrinkl es, lik e hussar
THE HUNCHBACK or Norma-name . 41
boots in the time of the emperor, caused such convul sionsof inextinguishable laughter, that Homer would have takenthese ruflians for immortal gods. A second and a thirdgrimace succeeded— then another and another, followed byredoubled shouts of laughter and the stampings and clatterings of merriment. The crowd was seized with a sortof franti c intoxication, a supernatural kind of fascination,of which it would be difficult to convey any idea to the
reader of our own days. Imagine a series of visages successively presenting every geometri c figure, from the triangle to the trapezium — from the cone to the polyhedron- every human expression, from rage to lechery all ages,from the wrinkles of the new-born infant to those of thehag at the point of death all the religious phantasmagoriasfrom Faunus to Beelzebub ; all the brute profiles, from thedistended j aw to the beak, from the snout of the hog to themuzzle of the bull . Imagine all the grotesque heads of thePont Neuf
,those nightmares petrified under the hand of
Germain Pilon,suddenly starting into li fe, and coming one
after another to stare you in the face with flaming eyes ;all the masks of the carni val of Venice passing in succession before your eye-glass — in a word
,a human kaleido
scope .The orgies became more and more uproarious. Tenierscould have given but an imperfect idea of the scene. FancySalvator Rosa's battle turned in to a bacchanalian piece.There were no longer any distinctions of ranks and persons
,
—no longer scholars, ambassadors, men, or women,— all
were lost in the general licence. The great hall was onevast furnace of effrontery and jollity where every mouthwas a cry
,every eye a flash, every face a contortion, every
indi vidual a posture : all was howling and roaring. Theextraordinary faces which in turn presented themselves atthe window acted like so many brands thrown upon ablazing fire ; and from all thi s effervescent crowd issued,like vapour from a furnace, a sharp, shrill, hissing noise,as from an immense serpent.Meanwhile Gringoire
,the first moment of dejection
over, had recovered hi s spiri ts : he had braced himselfagainst adversity. Go on said he for the third time
42 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
to hi s speaking machines, the comedians, and then pacedto and fro, with long strides, before the marble table. Healmost felt tempted to exhibit himself in his turn at theround window of the chapel, were i t bu t to enjoy thepleasure of grinning at the ungrateful populace. But no
,
said b e mentally, no revenge ! that were unworthy of us .Let us struggle manfully to the last : the power of poesyis mighty over the populace : I will bring them back. Weshall see which will conquer — the grimaces or the belleslettres.Alas
,poor Gringoire ! he was left to be the only
spectator of his play every back was turned upon him .
I am wrong : the fat patient man whom he had previously consulted in a critical moment was still turnedtowards the theatre. As for Gisquette and Lienarde theyhad long deserted.Gringoire was touched to the bottom of his heart by the
constancy of his only spectator . He went up and spoketo him, at the same time gently shaking his arm for thegood man was leaning upon the balustrade and napping alittle.Sir
,
” said Gringoire,
I am exceedingly obliged to
Sir,” replied the fat man
,with a yawn
,for what ?
I see,
” rejoined the poet, that you are quite annoyedby all this uproar
,which prevents your hearing comfortably .
But, never mind ; your name will be handed down to posterity: may I ask what i t is
R enaul d Chateau,keeper of the seal of the Chatelet of
Paris,at your service.”
Sir,you are the only representative of the muses in
thi s assembly,” said Gringoire.
You are too polite, sir,”replied the keeper of the seal
of the Chate let.You are the only one, resumed Gringoire, who has
paid any attention to the piece. What do you thinkof i t
W hy, to tell the truth,answered the pursy ma
gistrate, only half awake, i t is stupid enough .
Gringoire was forced to be content with this opinion ;
W W wa s “ ,w w v ~ -v V 's n ew .
THE IIUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
for thunders of applause, mingled with prodigious shouts,cut short their conversation . The Pope of Fools waselected. Huzza ! huzza ! huzza !
” cried the people on
all sides.I t was
,in truth
,a countenance of miraculous ugliness
whi ch at this moment shone forth from the circular aperture . After all the faces
,pentagonal, hexagonal, and he.
teroclite, that had followed each other at this window,without reali sing the idea of the grotesque which the crowdhad set up in their frantic imaginations
,i t required nothing
short of the sublimely monstrous grimace which had justdazzled the multitude to obtain their suffrages . Mas terCoppenole himself applauded and Clopin Trouillefou, whohad been a candidate and God knows what in tensity ofugliness his features could attain — confessed himself con~
quered . \Ve shall do the same we shall not attempt togive the reader any idea of that tetrahedron nose, of thathorse- shoe mouth, of that li ttle left eye, stubbled up wi than eye- brow of carotty bristles, while the right was com
pletely overwhelmed and buried by an enormous wen ofthose irregular teeth
,j agged here and there like the battle
ments of a fortress,of that lip, over which one of
those teeth protruded,like the tusk of an elephant , of
that forked chin,and above all
, of the expression,that
mixture of spite , wonder, and melancholy, spread over theseexquisi te fea tures . Imagine such an object
,if you can .
The acclamation was unanimous : the crowd rushed tothe chapel . The lucky Pope of Fools was brought out intriumph, and i t was not till then that surprise and admiration were at their height : what had been mistaken fora grimace was his natural visage indeed, i t might be saidthat hi s whole person was but one grimace. His prodigions head was covered wi th red bristles
,between his
shoulders rose an enormous hump,which was counter
balanced by a protuberan ce in front,his thighs and legs
were so strangely put together,that they touched at no one
point but the knees, and, seen in front, resembled twosickles j oined at the handles
,his feet were immense, his
hands monstrous,but
,with all this deformity, there was
a formidable air of strength,agili ty
,and courage
,consti
vv w "
Fp l’f uw"
THE H ONCB BAOK OF NOTRE- DAME .
him . Cross of God he exclaimed. Holy Father !— why thou art the finest piece of ugliness I ever beheld
.
Thou deservest to be pope at Rome as well as at Pari s.”
As he thus spoke, he sportively clapped his hand on themonster
’s shoulder. Quasimodo did not stir. CoppenoleV
continued” M
“M5? fine fellow, I shou ld like to have atus tle with thee, were i t to cost me a new douzain of
twelve tournois. What sayest thouQua simodo made no reply. Cross of God cried the
hosier,art thou deaf Quasimodo really was deaf.
Presently,beginning to feel annoyed by Coppenole
’s
manner,he turned suddenly towards him with so for
midable a grin that the Flemish giant recoiled, like abull-dog from a cat. A circle of terror and respect, havinga radius of at least fifteen geometric paces, was left vacan taround this strange personage.An old woman informed Coppenole that Quasimodo was
deaf.Deaf cried the hosier
,with a Flemish horseJaugh.
By the road he is an accomplished popeHa !
” said Jehan,who had at length descended from
his pillar to obtain a closer view of the new pope,
’t ismy brother’s bell- ringer Good morrow, QuasimodoA devil of a fellow sighed Robin Poussepain, aching
all over from the effects of his fall. He appears — he i shunchbacked. He walks he is handy- legged . He looksat you he is one- eyed. Y ou tal k to him he is deafAnd what use does this Polyphemus make of his tongue,I wonder ? ”
He can talk when he likes,
” said the old woman . Hebecame deaf with ringing the bells. He is not dumb .
He wants that qualification,
”observed Jehan .
And he has an eye too much, added Robin Pousse
Not so, rejoined Jehan, tartly a one-eyed man ismore incomplete than one who is quite blind .
”
Meanwhile al l the mendican ts, al l the lackeys, all thecutpurses, together with the scholars, went in procession tothe store- room of the Bazoche to fetch the pasteboard tiaraand the mock robe of thePope of Fools . Quasimodo su f
46 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE~ DAME .
fered them to be put upon him with a kind of proud docility. He was then required to sit down on a party- colouredl itter. Twelve officers of the frate rnity of fools hoisted itupon their shoulders ; and a sort of disdainful exultationoverspread the morose countenance of the Cyclop
,when
he saw beneath his feet all those heads of straight,hand
some,well—shaped men . The roaring and ragged proces
sion then moved off, to pass, according to custom,through
the galleries in the interior of the Palace, before i t paradedthe streets and publi c places of the Ci ty.
CHAPTER VI .
LA ESMERALDA .
W E have great satisfaction in apprising the reader that,
during the whole of this scene, Gringoire and his play hadmaintained their ground. His actors
,egged on by him
,
had continued the performance of his comedy,
and hehad continued to listen to them . In spite of the uproar
,
he was determined to go through wi th it,not despairing of
being able to recall the attention of the public. Thisglimmer of hope became brighter
,when he saw Quasimo do,
Coppenole, and the obstreperous retinue of the Pope ofFools
,leaving the hall . The crowd rushed out after them .
Excellent ! ” said he we shall get rid of all those troublesome knaves. Unluckily these were the whole assembly . In the twinkling of an eye the great hall was empty .
T0 tell the truth,a few spectators still lingered behind,
some dispersed,others in groups around the pillars
,old
men, women, or children, who had had enough of the
uproar and tumult. Some of the scholars, too, remained,as tride of the entablature of the windows, where they hada good view of the Place.Well
,thought Gringoire
,there are quite as many as I
want to hear the conclusion of my mystery . Their number
, indeed, is but small ; but they are a select, a lettered,aud ience.
THE B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 4-7
At that momen t a symphony destined to produce astriking effect at the arrival of the Holy Virgin, was notforthcoming. Gringoire perceived that hi s musicians hadbeen pressed into the service of the procession of the Popeo f Fools . Skip that,
"said he
,with the composure of a
stoic .He approached a knot of citizens who seemed to be
talking about his play . The fragment of their conversation which he overheard was as follows
Master Cheneteau,you know the hotel de Navarre
,
which belonged to Monsieur de Nemours P
Yes Opposite to the chapel of Braque .Wel l ! the exchequer has just leased it to Guillaume
Alexandre,the history-writer
,for six l ivres eight sols
parisis per annum .
"
How rents are risingBah ejaculated Gringoire wi th a sigh the others
are listening at any rate.”
Comrades,"all at once shouted one of the young
scapegraces in the windows, La Esmeralda ! La Esmeralda in the PlaceThis intimation produced a magic effect. All who were
left in the hall ran to the W indows,clambering up the
walls to obtain a sight, and repeating, La Esmeralda !La Esmeralda Thunders of applause arose at the samemomen t from the Place.What can they mean by La Esmeralda ? ” said Grin
goire, clasping his hands in despair. Gracious heavenit seems to have come to the turn of the windows nowTurning towards the marble table he perceived that the
performance was at a stand . I t was precisely the momentwhen Jupi ter should have appeared with his thunderbolt ;but Jupi ter was standing stock—still at the foot of the stage.
Michel Giborne !" cried the incensed poet,mind
thy business ! what art thou doing ? make haste up !Alas replied Jupiter, one of the scholars has run
away with the ladder.”
Gringoire looked : i t was even so. The communi cationwith the stage was completely cut off . The varlet !”
murmured he. And why did he take the ladder ?”
48 THE HUNCHBACK op NOTRE-DAME .
To go and see La Esmeralda,answered Jupi te r
,in a
doleful tone. Stay,
’ said he, here’
s a ladder that ’sof no use,
’
and off he scampered with i t.”
This was the final blow. Gringoire received i t wi thresignation .
The devil fetch you said he to the performers.If I am paid you shall be .With downcast looks he then made his retreat
,but not
till the very last,like a general who has been soundly
beaten . A pretty pack of asses and boobies,these Pari
sians he muttered between his teeth as he descended thewinding staircase of the Palace. They come to hear amystery, and will not listen to it. They will pay atten tionto every thing and every body to Clopin Trouillefou
,to
the Cardinal,to Coppenole, to Quasimodo, to the devil !
but on the Holy Virgin they have none to bestow. Had Iknown
,ye gaping ouphs
,I should have given you Virgin
Maries,I warrant me ! Turn your backs on such a piece !
Homer,i t i s true
,begged his bread in the Greek towns
and Naso died in exile among the Moscovites . But thedevil flay me if I comprehend what they mean by their LaEsmeral da. And what kind of word is it to begin withI t must surely be Egyptian
rm : B UNCHB AOK or NOTR E-DAME. 4-9
BOOK I I .
CHAPTER I .
FROM CHARY BDIS INTO SCYLLA.
NIGHT comes on early in the month of January . I t wasalready dusk when Gringoire left the pal ace . To him thenightfall was doubly welcome
,as he purposed seeking some
obscure and sequestered street, where he might muse un
molested,and where philosophy might apply the first dress
ing to the poet’
s wound . In fact, philosophy was his onlyrefuge ; for he knew not where he should find a lodging .
After the signal failure of his dramatic attempt, he durs tnot return to that which he had occupied in the RueGrenier- sur-I’Eau, opposi te to the Port au Foin, having madesure that Monsieur the provost woul d give him such a re
muneration for his labour as woul d enable him to payMaster Guil laume Doulx- Sire
,farmer of the customs 011
beasts with cloven hoofs, for the six months’ lodging which
he owed him that is to say , twelve sols Parisis twelvetimes the value of all that he possessed in the world, including his hose
,shirt
,and doublet. Having considered
for a moment, sheltering, ad interim,under the li ttle
gateway of the prison of the treasurer of the Holy Chapel,
what quarters he should select for the night,having al l the
pavements of Paris to choose among,he recoll ected having
noti ced, in the preceding week, a horsing- stone at the doo rof a counsell or of the parliament, in the Rue de la Savaterie,and having said to himself that this stone would be
,in
case of emergency, an excellent pi llow for a beggar or apoet. He thanked Providence for having sen t this seasonable idea ; but, as he was preparing to cross the palaceyard, for the purpose of entering the tortuous labyrinth of
15
50 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
the City,with i ts ancien t winding streets
,such as those of
La Barillerie, La Vielle-Draperie, La Savaterie, La Juiverie,and others
,still standing
,with their houses nine stories
high,he saw the procession of the Pope of Fools coming
ou t of the palace, and advancing across the court towardshim
,with loud shouts, the glare of numerous torches, and
his own band of musi c. This sight tore Open afresh thewounds of his self- love : he took to his heels . In thekeen mortification of his dramati c miscarriage
,every thing
that reminded him of the festival held that day touchedhim to the qu i ck.He resolved to make for the Pont St. Mi chel . Boys
were running to and fro letting off squibs and crackers.Curse the fire-works ejaculated Gringoire
,and he bent
his steps towards the Pont- au -Change. To the houses atthe end of the bridge were attached three large pieces ofcanvass
,with likenesses of the King
,the Dauphin, and
Margaret of Flanders ; and six smaller, on which wereportrayed the Duke of Austria
,and the Cardinal of Bourbon
,
and Monsieur de Beaujeu, and Madame Jeanne of France,and Monsieur the Bastard of Bourbon , and I know not
whom besides— the whole lighted by torches. A crowd ofspecta tors was admiring these performances .
Happy painter,Jehan Fourbaul t !
” said Gringoirewith a deep sigh
,as he turned hi s back on the productions
of that artist. There was a street just before him i tappeared to be so dark and so deserted that he hoped thereto be ou t of hearing as well as ou t of sigh t of all the feetivities : he entered i t. Presently his foot struck againstsome obstacle ; he stumbled and fell. I t was the bole of theMay- tree
,which the clerks of the Bazoche had placed, in
the morning, at the door of a president of the parliament,in honour of the day. Gringoire bore wi th forti tude thisnew misfortune ; he picked himself up, and pursued hisway across the river. Leaving behind him the civi l andcriminal court of the parliament, and pursuing his wayalong the high wall of the king’s gardens
,upon the un
paved strand,where h e was ankle-deep in mud, he arrived
at the wes tern poin t of the Ci ty, and surveyed for sometime the islet of the cattle-ferry, which has s ince givenplace to the Pont Neuf wi th its bron ze horse. The islet
THE B UNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 5 1
appeared to him,in the dark, like a black mass, beyond
the whi te narrow stripe of water which separated him fromit
.By the glimmer of a faint ligh t might be indistinctly
discerned the kind of cabin in the shape of a bee-hivewhich afforded shelter to the ferryman during the night.Happy ferryman thoughtGringoire thou dreamest
not of glory, thou wri test no epithalamiums l what to theeare the marriages of kings and duchesses of Burgundy !- while I
,a poet
,am hoo ted, and shiver wi th cold, and
owe twelve sons, and the sole of my shoe is so thin thati t might serve for the horn of a lantern . Thanks to thee,ferryman ! thy cabin refreshes the eye and causes me toforget Paris.”
He was awakened from his almost lyri c ecs tasy by theexplosion of a double pe tard, suddenly fired from thehappy cabin . I t was the ferrym an taking his share inthe rejoicings of the day. The report made Gringoireshudder.Accursed festival cried he, wilt thou pursue me
whithersoever I go, even to the cabin of the ferryman ?
He then looked at the Seine flowing at his feet, and a horrible temptation came over him . Ah said he
,how
gladly would I drown myself,only the water i s so cold ! ”
He then formed a desperate resolution . Since he foundi t impos sible to escape the Pope of Fools, the paintingsof Jehan Fourbaul t
,the May- trees
,the squibs
,and the
petards, he determined to proceed to the Place de Greve,and to penetrate boldly in to the very heart of the rejoicings .“At any ra te,
"thought he, I shall be able to get a warm at
the bonfire, and perhaps a supper on some of the fragmentsof the collation provided at the publi c larder of the city .
CHAPTER II.
THE PLACE DE GREVE.
NOTH ING but a scarcely perceptible vestige of the Place deGreve, as it then exi sted, 110W remains . This is the
E 2
rm :HUNOHBAOK or NOTRE- DAME . 53
requi site for a good citylike Paris ; a chapel for saying prayersin ; a hall for giving audien ce and occasionally snubbingthe se rvants of the king ; and in the lofts an arsenal wellStored wi th artillery . For the citi zens of Paris know thati t i s not sufficien t in every c onjuncture to plead and to prayfor the franchises of the city, and therefore they alwayskeep in reserve a good rusty arquebu se or two in a loft inthe Hotel de Ville.The Greve were at that time the same sinister aspect
that i t still retains, owing to the unpleasant ideas which i texcites
,and the gloomy Hotel de Ville of Dominique
Bocador, which occupies the site of the Pillar House. Aperm anent gibbet and a pillory, or, as they were called inthose days
,a justice and a ladder
,
” placed side by sidein the middle of the pavement
,conferred no particular
attractions on this fatal spot,where so many human beings
fu ll of health and life have been suddenly cut off ; wherefifty years later was generated that fever of St. Vall ier
,
that disease produced by fear of the scaffold,the most
monstrous of all diseases, because i t did not proceed fromGod but from man .
I t i s consolatory,be i t observed by the way
,to think
that the punishment of death, which three hundred yearsago still encumbered the Greve
,the Halles
,the Place
Dauphine,the Cross of Trahoir
,the Swine Market
, the
hideous Montfaucon, the barrier of the Sergens, the Placeaux-Chats
,the gate of St. Denis, Champeaux, the gate of
Baudets, and the gate of St. Jacques, with its iron wheels,i ts stone gibbets
,and all i ts apparatus for executions
,per
manently imbedded in the pavement — to say nothing of
the numberless ladders ” of the provosts,the bishop
,the
chapters, the abbots, the priors, possessing the power of li feand death
,or of the judi cial drownings in the river Seine
it i s consolatory, I say, to think that, at the present day,this ancien t sovereign-paramount of feudal society
,stripped
successively of all the pieces of i ts armour,i ts luxury of
pains and penalties,i ts penal spiri t and tendency
,i ts tor
ture, for which i t caused a new leathern bed to be madeevery five years at the Grand Chatelet, almost outlawedfrom our cities and our land
,hunted from code to code,E 3
54 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE- DAME .
driven from place to place,should have in our immense
Pari s but an ignominious corner of the Greve, but one miserable
,furti ve
,timid
,shamefaced guillotine, which always
seems as if fearful of being taken in the fact,so speedily
does i t hurry away after striking the fatal blow.
CHAPTER I I I .
THE POET PUZZLED .
WHEN Pierre Gringoire reached the Place de Greve he wasquite benumbed with cold . He had gone over the Pontaaux-Meuniers
,to avoid the crowd at the Pont- au -Change
and the flags of Jehan Fourbault ; but the wheels of allthe bi shop’s mill s had splashed him so unmercifully as hepassed that his frock was drenched : i t seemed
,moreover
,
as if the failure of his play had rendered him still morechilly than ever. Accordingly, he hastened towards thebonfire which blazed magnificently in the middl e of thePlace . A large assemblage of people formed a circleround it.
Cursed Parisians ! said he to himself ; for Grin
goire, like a genuine dramati c poet, was addicted to solilo
quies there they are, shutting me ou t from the fire !And yet I am in great need of a comfortable chimney- corner.My shoes leak
,and all those infernal mills showering upon
me in to the bargain ! The devil fetch the Bishop of
Paris and his mills ! I ' would fain know what a bishophas to do with a mill does he expect to be obliged to turnmiller some day or other ? If he needs nothing but mymal ison for that, I give i t to him,
and to his cathedral ,and to his mills, with all my heart. Stop a moment, let
’
ssee if these boobies will sheer off presently . But what areth ey doing there, I want to know ? Warming themselves
fine amusement Gaping at the bonfire pretty sight,forsoothO n looking more closely he perceived that the circle
THE HUNOB BACK or NOTR E-DAME . 55
was much larger than it needed to have been, had the persons composing it been desirous of warming themselves a tthe king’s fire and that the assemblage of spectators wasnot drawn together solely by the beauty of the hundredblazing faggots . In an extensive space left open betweenthe crowd and the fire there was a young female dancing.Whether this young female was a human being, or a
fairy,or an angel
,Gringoire, sceptical philosopher and
satirical poet as he was,could not at the first moment de
cide,so completely was he fascinated by the dazzling
vision . She was not tall , though she appeared to be sofrom the slenderness and elegance of her shape . Hercomplexion was dark, but i t was easy to divine that bydaylight her skin must have the beautiful golden tint ofthe Roman and Andalusian women . Her small foot toowas Andalusian . She danced
,whirled, turned round, on
an old Persian carpet,carelessly spread on the pavement
and every time her radiant face passed before you as sheturned
,her large black eyes flashed lightning.
Every eye was fixed upon her, every mouth open andin truth, while she was thus dancing, what with the soundof the tambourine
,which her two plump exquisi tely
shaped arms held above her head,her bodice of gold
without folds, her spotted robe which swelled wi th therapidity of her motions
,her bare shoulders
,her finely
turned legs which her petticoat now and then discovered,
her black hair, her eyes of flame,she was a supernatural
creature .Verily, thought Gringoire, i t i s a salamander
,a
nymph, a goddess, a bacchanal of Moun t M enalaeus
At that moment one of the tres ses of the salamander’s hai rgot loose, and a piece of brass which had been fastened to i tdropped to the ground . Ha ! no
,
” said he,
’t i s a
gipsy The illusion was at an end.
She began dancing again . She picked up from theground two swords, which she balanced on their points uponher forehead, and made them turn round one way, whileshe turned the other. She was in fact a gipsy, neithermore nor less . But though the spell was di ssolved
,stil l
the whole scene was not without fascination and charm forE 4
56 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
Gringoire : the bonfire threw a crude, red, trembling lighton the wide circle of faces and on the tawny brow of thegirl
,and
,at the extremity of the Place, cas t a faint tinge,
mingled with their wavering shadows,upon the ancient
,
black,and furrowed facade of the Maison- aux-Piliers on
the one hand,and upon the stone arms of the gibbet on the
o ther.Among the thousand faces to which this light com
municated a scarlet hue,there was one which seemed to
be more deeply absorbed in the contemplation of thedancer than any of the others . I t was the face of a man
,
austere, calm, and sombre. This man, whose dress wasconcealed by the surrounding crowd
,appeared to be no
more than thirty-five years of his age he was,neverthe
less , bald, and had merely at his temples a few tufts of
thin and al ready grey hair. His ample and lofty browbegan to be furrowed with wrinkles but in his deep - sunkeyes there was an expression of extraordinary youth,ardent l ife
,and profound passion. He kept them intently
fixed on the Bohemian and . while the l ively girl of sixteenwas delighting all the other spectators by her dancing andher capers
,his reverie seemed to become more and more
gloomy. At times a smile and a sigh would meet uponhis lips
,but the smile was by far the sadder of the two.
The girl at length paused,panting with her exertions, and
the people applauded with enthusiasm .
Dj ali said the Bohemian, and up started a pret tyli ttle whi te goat
,a nimble
,l ively, glossy creature, with
'
gilt horns, gilt hoofs, and a gilt collar, which Gringoire hadnot yet perceived, and which had, till then, been lying atthe corner of the carpet watching her mistress dance.Dj ali
,
” said the girl, i t i s your turn now and seating herself
,she gracefully held the tambourine before the
animal . Dj al i,
” continued she, what month are wein The goat raised her fore- leg and struck one strokeupon the tambourine . I t was actuall y the first month.The crowd applauded . Dj ali
,
” said the girl, turningthe tambourine a different way, what day of the monthis this Dj ali again raised her little gilt hoof, and strucksix blows upon the instrument. Djal i,
” continued 3 the‘
THE HUNCHBACK or? NOTRE-DAME . 57
Egyptian, again changing the posi tion of the tambourine,what o’clock is i t P Djal i gave seven blows . At thatmoment the clock of the Maison- aux-Piliers struck seven .The people we re astounded.
There i s sorcery at the bottom of this said a sinistervoi ce in the crowd . I t was that of the bald man, whonever took his eyes off the Bohemian . She shuddered andturned away ; and thunders of applause burst forth andd rowned the morose exclamation . They had the effect o feffacing it so completely from her mind that she continuedto question her goat.
Dj ali,show me how Master Guichard Grand Remy,
captain of the city pistoleers,does in the Candlemas pro
cession .” Dj ali rai sed herself on her hind- legs, and beganbleating and walking with such comic gravi ty, that thewhole circle of spectators roared with laughter at thisparody upon the interested devotion of the captain of the
pistoleers.Dj ali
,resumed the girl, emboldened by the increasing
applause, show me how Master Jacques Charmolue, theKing’s attorney in the ecclesias tical court, preaches.
”The
goat sat down on her rump, and began bleating and shakingher fore-paws in such a strange way
,that
,in gesture,
accent, attitude, every thing ex cepting bad French andworse Latin
,i t was Jacques Charmolue to the life. The
crowd applauded more loudl y than ever.Sacrilege ! profanation !" ej aculated the bald man .
The gipsy turned round once more. Ah !” said she
,
i t is that odious man then lengthening her lower lipbeyond the upper she gave a pout that seemed to be habi tualto her, tu rned upon her heel, and began to collect thedonations of the multi tude in her tambourine. Silver andcopper coins of al l sorts and si zes were showered into i t.She came to Gringoire, who so readily thrust his hand intohis pocket that she stopped. The devil ! ”muttered thepoet fumbling in his pocket and finding the real i ty, that isnothing. The graceful gir l stood still before him , lookingat him with her large eyes
,and holding out her tambourine.
Big drops of perspiration started from Gringoire’
s brow.
If he had had Peru in his pocket,he would certainly have
58 .
‘THE HUNCHBACK OF N orR E-DAME .
given it to the dancer : but Gringoire had no Peru there,
and besides, America was not yet discovered. An unex
pected inciden t luckily relieved him .
“Wil t thou begone, Egyptian grasshopper ?” cried a
sharp voice issuing from the darkest corner of the Place.The young girl turned about in alarm . I t was not thevoice of the bald man it was the voice of a female
,a de
vont and spiteful voice . This exclamation,which fright
ened the gipsy,excited the merriment of a troop of boys
who were strolling near the spot. ’
T i s the crazy womanin Roland’s Tower,
” cried they,with shouts of laughter
’t is Sacky who is scolding. Perhaps she has had no supper.Let us run to the city larder and see if we can get something for her 1 And away they scampered to the Maisonaux-Piliers.Meanwhile, Gringoire had taken advantage
‘
of the girl’
sagi tation to sneak off. The shouts '
of the boys remindedhim that he had not supped either. He thought that hetoo migh t as well try his luck at the larder. But theyoung rogues ran too fast for him when he arrived, everything was cleared away there was not a scrap of any kindleft.I t i s not pleasant to be obliged to go to bed without
supper,and still less agreeable to have no bed to go to as
wel l as no supper to eat. Such was Gringoire’
s predi camen t. He found himself closely pressed on all sides bynecessity
,and he thought necessity unnecessarily harsh .
He had long since discovered this truth , that Jupiter createdman in a fi t of misanthropy
,and that, throughout the whole
life of the phil osopher, his destiny keeps his philosophy ina state of siege. For his own part, he had never seen theblockade so complete : he heard his stomach beat a parleyand he declared i t a scurvy tri ck of mali cious destiny totake his
,philosophy by famine.
In thi s melancholy reverie he became more and moreabsorbed
,when a strange kind of song, but remarkably
sweet, suddenly roused him from it. I t was the Egyptiangirl who was singing. Her voice, like her dancing andher beauty
,was indefinable, something pure, sonorous,
aerial , winged, as i t were. There were continual gushes
THE nuuonna ox op NOTRE-DAME. 59
of melody, unexpected cadences, then simple phrases inter.spersed with harsh and hissing tones ; now leaps whichwould have confused a nigh tingale
,but in which harmony
was nevertheless preserved and presently soft undulationsof octaves, which rose and fell like the bosom of the youngsinger. Her fine face followed wi th extraordinary versatility all the capri ces of her song, from the wildest inspiration to the chastest dignity . Y ou would have taken herat one time for a maniac, at another for a queen .The words which she sang were of a language unknown
to Gringoi re, and apparently unknown to herself, so littledid the expression thrown into the singing accord with thesignification of those words. Thus these four lines werein the highest strain of mirth
Un coflre de gran riquez aHa l laron d entro nu pilar,Dentro de l, nueva s banderas,Configuras de espantar.
A moment afterwards the tone which she infused into thisstanza
Alarabe s de caval loSm pod erse menear,Con espadas, y los cue l los ,Ba l lestas d e buen echar,
drew tears in to the eyes of Gringoire . Mirth,however ,
was the predominant spiri t of her lays, and she seemedto sing like tbg hirdj gg sheer sereni ty and carelessness.The
-
553g of the gipsy had disturbed Gringoire’
s reverie,but as the swan disturbs the water : he listened with a kindof rap ture and a forgetfulness of every thing . I t was thefirst respi te from suffering that he had enjoyed for severalhours . That respite was a short one . The same femalevoi ce which had in terrupted the dancing of the gipsy wasnow rai sed to interrupt her singing. Cease thy chirping
,
cricket of hell i t cried,still issuing from the darkest
corner of the Place. The poorcricket s topped short. “Cursethy screeching, thou bird of foul omen exclaimed Grin
goire, clapping his hands to his ears . The other spectatorsalso began to murmur . The devil take the hag criedmore than one
, and the invisible trouble- feast might havehad to rue her aggression s against the Bohemian
,had not
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 6 1
a race by no means musical, had advan ced no further thanthe viol, the goat
’s horn,and the Gothic rebec of the
twelfth century . The empire of Galilee was but little before them ; the highest stret ch of i ts music was somewretched air of the infancy of the art, still imprisoned inthe re- la -mz
‘
. I t was around the Pope of Fools that all themusical excellence s of the age were commingled in one
magnificent cacophony . I t consisted only of viols, treble,alt
,and te nor, be sides flutes and instruments of brass .
Our readers may not recoll ect that thi s was poor Gringoire’
s
orchestra .I t i s impossible to convey any idea of the look of pride
and self- complacency which had overspread Quasimodo’s
dull and hideous countenance during this triumphal proce ssion from the Palace to the Greve. I t was the firstgratification o f self- love that he had ever experien ced .
Hitherto he had met with nothing but humil iation,con
tempt for his condition,disgust of his person . Thus
,deaf
as he was,he enjoyed like a real pope the acclamations of
that crowd which he hated because he knew that he washated by it. It mattered not to him that his subjects werea mob of cripples, mendicants, thieves, ruffians— still theywere subjects
,and he was a sovereign. He took in earnest
all those i ronical plaudits,all that mock reverence and re
spect,with which, we must however observe, there was
mingled on the part of the crowd a certain degree of realfear for the hunchback was strong
,the handy- legged
dwarf was active,the deaf bell - ringer was spi teful
,three
quali ties which tend to temper ridicule.That the new Pope of Fools was conscious of the senti
ments which he felt and of the sentiments which he inspired is more than we can undertake to assert. The mindwhich was lodged in that defective body had necessarily atouch of imperfection and of deafness. He had thereforebut a vague
,indistinct
,confused
,perception of what he
fel t at that moment : enough for him that joy prevailed ,pride predominated . That gloomy and unhappy visagewas encircled by a halo of delight.I t was, therefore, not without surpri se and alarm that,
at the moment when Quasimodo,in this s tate of half
62 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
in toxication , was borne triumphantly past the Maison-aux4Piliers, his attendants beheld a man suddenly dart fromamong the c1 owd
,and with an angry gesture snatch from
his hands his crosier Of gilt wood,the mark of his newly
conferred dignity . This rash man was the bald-headedpersonage, who, mingled in the group of spectators, hadthrilled the poor gi psy girl by his exclamations Of menaceand abhorrence. He was attired in the ecclesiastical habit.At the moment when he issued from among the crowd
,
Gringoire, who had not before noticed him,recognised in
him an Old acquaintance. Hold ! said he,with a cry
Of astonishment. Sure enough i t is my master in Hermes,
Dom C laude Frollo,the archdeacon What the devil
would he be at with that one- eyed monster ? He will eathim up .
”
Shrieks of terror burst from the crowd, as the formidableQuasimodo leaped from the li tter to the ground ; and thewomen turned away their faces, that they might not seethe archdeacon torn in pieces . Wi th one bound he wasbefore the priest he looked at him
,and dropped upon his
knees. The priest pulled off his tiara, broke his crosier,and tore his cope of tinsel . Quasimodo remained kneeling
,
bowed his head,and clasped his hands . Then ensued be
tween them a strange dialogue of signs and gestures, fornei ther of them spoke : the priest
,erect, i rri tated, threat
ening, imperious — Quasimodo at his feet, humble, submissive
,suppliant. And yet i t is certain that Quasimodo
could have crushed the priest with his thumb .
At length the archdeacon, shaking the brawny shoulderOf Quasimodo
,motioned him to rise and follow him . Qua
simodo rose. The fraternity Of Fools, their first stupor over,were for defending their pope
,who had been so uncere
moniously dethroned. The Egyptians, the beggars, andthe lawyers
’ clerks,crowded yelping around the priest.
Quasimodo,stepping before the priest, clen ched hi s athletic
fists and,as he eyed the assailants, he
fgnashed hi s fi teeth
likea n angryrige r. The priest resumed his sombre gravity, made a sign to Quasimodo, and wi thdrew in silen ce .Quasimodo went before, opening a passage for him throughthe crowd.
TH E nuncu na cx OF NOTRE-DAME. 63
\Vhen they were clear of the populace , a number ofcurious and idle persons began to foll ow them . Quasimodothen fell into the rear ; and, facing the enemy , walkedbackward after the archdeacon
,square, massive, bristly,
picking up his limbs,li cking his tusk
,growling like a wild
beast,and producing immense Oscillations in the crowd wi th
a gesture or a look. They pursued their way down a darkand narrow street
,into which no one durst venture to fol
low them the formidable figure of Quasimodo securing an .
unmoles ted retreat.’T is wonderful
,by my faith ! ” exclaimed Gringoire
but where the devil shall I find a supper ?”
CHAPTER IV.
INCONVENIENCES OP FOLLOW ING A HANDSOME GIRL IN
TH E STREET A T NIGHT.
GR LNGOIR E took i t in to his head to follow the gipsy girl atal l hazards . He saw her with her goat turn into the Ruede Couteller ie and to the same street he directed his course .Why not ? said he to himself by the way.Gringoire
,a practical philosopher of the streets of Paris,
had remarked that nothing i s so conducive to reverie as tofollow a handsome woman without knowing whither she isgoing . In this voluntary resignation of free-will
,in this
submission of one whim to another,there is a mixture of
fantastic independence and blind Obedience,a something
intermediate between slavery and liberty,which was pleas
ing to Gringoire, a man Of a mind essentially mixed, indecisive, and complex, incessan tly suspended between all
human passions and propensi ties,and incessan tly neutral
ising them one by another. He was fond of comparinghimself with the tomb Of Mahomet
,attracted in contrary
directions by two loadstones,and eternally wavering be
tween the ceiling and the pavement,between rising and
sinking, be tween zenith and nadi r.
64 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTE E-DAME .
Nothing tends so much to produce a disposi tion to followpassengers
,and especial ly those Of the fair sex
,in the
streets,as the circumstance of having neither home nor
harbour. Gringoire, therefore, walked pensively on afterthe girl
,who quickened her pace
,and made her pretty little
goat trot along by her side,when she saw the shopkeepers
retiring to their houses, and the tavern-keepers, who hadalone kept Open on that day
,shutting up for the night .
After all," this was what he thought, or something very
much like it,
she must lodge somewhere. The gipsiesare very good natured. W I10 knows And the suspensive points, with which in his mind he cut short thesentence
,involved certain ideas that tickled him mightily.
Meanwhile,from time to time
,as he passed the last
groups of tradesmen shutting their doors, he caught somefragments Of their conversation, which broke the chain ofhis pleasing hypotheses . Two Old men
,for instance, would
accost one another_
in this mannerMaster Thibaut Fernicle, do you know that i t i s very
cold ? ” Gringoire had known that ever since the beginningof win ter.
It i s,indeed
,Master Boniface Disome ! Are we going
to have such another winter as we had three years ago,in
80 when wood cost six sous the cord ? ”
Pooh ! that is nothing, Master Thibaut, to the winterof 1407, when the frost lasted from Martinmas to Candlemas ; ay, and the cold was so bitter, that the pen of thecl erk of the parliamen t froze in the great chamber everythree words he wroteFarther on a couple of female neighbours woul d be chat
ting at their windows,while the fog made their candl es
crackle again .Has your husband told you Of the accident, Mademoi
selle La BoudraqueNO but what is i t
,Mademoiselle Turquant ?
Y ou know the horse of Monsieur Gilles Godin, notaryto the Chatelet well, he took fright at the Flemings andtheir procession, and threw Master Philippot Avrillot, theinval id of the Celestins .
”
Indeed !
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 65
As true as you are there.The windows would then close again : but Gringoire had,
nevertheless,lost the thread of his ideas . Luckily, however,
he soon recovered and quickly re united i t, thanks to thegipsy girl and her Dj ali , who still pursued their way beforehim two elegant
,deli cate
,charming creatures, whose
small feet,handsome shape, and graceful manners he ad
mired,almost confounding them in his imagination ; re
garding them both as young girl s for intelligence and theirfondness for each Other
,and thinking them bo th goats for
agili ty,dexteri ty
,and lightness Of foot.
The streets,meanwhile
,became every moment darker
and more deserted . The curfew had long since rung ; andit was only at rare intervals that a passenger was met onthe pavement
,or a light seen at the windows . Gringoire
,
in following the Egyptian,had involved himself in that
inextri cable labyrinth Of lanes, and alleys, and cross-ways,surrounding the ancient sepulchre of the Holy Innocents ,and which resembles a skein Of thread entangled by a playful cat. Here are streets which have very little logi csaid Gringoire, lost in their thousand meanders, throughwhich
,however, the girl proceeded as along a way that was
well known to her, and at a more and more rapid pace .For his part
,he should not have had the remotest con
caption Of where he was,had he not perceived
, 011 turninga corner, the octagon mass Of the pillory of the Hall es, theblack open-work top of which was distinctly defined againsta window still lighted in the Rue Verdelet.He had, by this time, begun to attract the notice Of the
young girl : she had more than once turned her head andlooked at him with some uneasiness ; nay, she had stoppedshort and taken advantage Of a ray of l ight issuing fromthe half-open.door Of a bakehouse, to scrutinise him attentively from head to foot. Gringoire had seen her, afterthis survey, pout her lip as she had done before, and thenshe passed on .This pretty grimace set Gringoire about enquiring what
i t might denote. I t certainly conveyed an expression Ofdisdain and dislike. He began, in consequence, to hang hishead, as if to count the stones Of the pavement, and to drop
9
66 TH E HUNCHBACK OE NOTRE-DAME .
further b ehind, when, on reaching the corner Of a streetinto whi ch she had turned, he was startled by a piercingshriek. The street was extremely dark a wick steeped inOil
,burning in an iron cage at the foot of the Blessed
Virgin,at the angle of the street
,nevertheless enabled Grin
goire to distinguish the Bohemian struggling in the graspof two men, who were striving to stifle her cries. Thepoor little goat
,terrified at this attack, drooped her head,
presented her horns, and bleated.
Watch watch shouted Gringoire,boldly advancing.
One of the men who held the girl turned upon him . I twas the formidable visage of Quasimodo. Gringoire did notrun away
,neither did he advance another step. Quasim
'
odowen t up to him
,and dealt him a back—handed blow
,that
sent him reeling three or four yards and stretched himsprawling upon the pavement ; then , darting back, he caughtup the young girl, and bore her Off across one of his
.
armslike a silken scarf. His companion followed
,and the poor
goat ran after the three, bleating in a most plain tivemanner.
Murder ! murder cried the unfortunate gipsy girl.Halt
,scoundrels, and let the wench go !
"suddenly
roared,in a voice of thunder, a horseman who came dashing
along out of the next street. I t was the captain of thearchers of the King
’
s ordnance, armed cap-a-pee, and hisdrawn sword in his hand. He snatched the Bohemian outof the grasp Of the stupified Quasimodo, laid her across hi ssaddl e, and, at the moment when the formidable hunchback,recovering from his surprise
,would have rushed upon him
to regain his prey, fifteen or sixteen archers,who followed
close at the heels Of their captain, came up armed withquarter- staves. I t was part Of a company of the King’sordnance
,which did the duty of counter-watch
,by the order
of Messire Robert d’
Estouteville, keeper Of the provosty OfParis .Quasimodo was surrounded, seized, and bound. He
bellowed,he foamed
,he kicked
,he hit ; and had it been
daylight,no doubt his face alone, rendered doubly hideous
by rage,would have sufficed to scare away the whole de
tachment : but night disarmed him Of his most formidable
THE E UNOE BAOK OF NOTRE- Damrz. 67
weapon,his ugliness. His companion had disappeared
during the struggle.The Bohemian graceful ly raised herself upon the Officer’s
saddle. Clapping her two hands upon his shoulders,she
looked at him inten tly for a few moments, as i f charmedwi th his handsome face
,and grateful for the seasonable
succour which he had afforded her. Then,gi ving a sweeter
tone than usual to her sweet voi ce, she enquired,What
is your name, sir ?Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers
,at your service, my
dear, replied the Oflicer, drawing himself up to his fullheight.Thank you
,said she ; and while the captain was
tu rning up his whiskers (i la bourgu ignonne, she slid downthe horse’s side to the ground
,and vanished with the swift
ness Of lightning.
CHAPTER V .
SEQUEL OF INCONVENIENCES.
Gnm oom e,stunned by his fall, was extended on the pave
ment before the good Virgin at the corner of the street.By degrees he came to himself. At first, he was floatingfor some minutes in a kind Of dreamy reverie
,which was
rather soothing, though the aerial figures of the Bohemianand her goat were coupled with the weight Of the ungentlefist o f Quasimodo. This state was Of short duration .A painful sensation Of cold in that part Of his body whichwas in contact with the pavement suddenly awoke him andrecalled his mind to the surface. t enc e comes thi scold ?
”said he sharply to himself. He then percei ved
that he was nearly in the middle Of the kennel.Devil Of a hunchbacked Cyclop ! muttered he, and
attempted to rise, but he was so stunned and brui sed, thathe was forced to remain where he was. His hand , how
F 2
THE HUNOHBAUK OF NOTRE-DAME. 9
Eustache Moubon, the ironmonger at the corner, is justdead. We have got his paillasse and are going to make abonfire Of itSo saying
,they threw down the paillasse preci sely upon
Gringoire,close to whom they had stopped without seeing
him. At the same time, one Of them took a handful Ofstraw
,and went to light it at the Virgin
’
s lamp.
’Sdeath grumbled Gringoire,I am likely to be
hot enough presentlyBetween fire and water he was certainl y in a cri ticalsi tuation . He made a supernatural effort, the effort of acoiner who is going to be boiled and strives to escape . Heraised himself upon his feet, threw back the paillasse uponthe urchins and hobbled away as fast as he was able.Holy Virgin ! cried the boys,
’
t i s the ironmonger’s ghost and Off they scampered in their turn .
The paillas se was left in possession of the field of battle .Bell eforét, Father Le Juge, and Corroz et, relate, that onthe following day i t was picked up with great pomp by theclergy of the quarter
,and carried to the treasure-house Of
the church Of St. Opportune,where the sacristan, down to
the year 1 789, made a very handsome income with thegrand miracle pe rformed by the statue Of the Virgin at thecorner of the Rue Mauconseil, which had, by i ts mere presence, in the memorable night between the 6th and the7th Of January, 1482, exorcised the spirit Of Jehan Moubou,which, to play the devil a trick, had when he died maliciously hid itself in his paillasse.
CHAPTER VI.
THE BROKEN JUG.
Aru m running for some time as fast as his legs wouldcarry him, wi thout knowing whither, knocking his headagainst many a corner Of a street
,plunging into many a
kennel, dashing through many a lane, turning in to many ablind alley, seeking a passage through all the meanders Ofthe Old pavement Of the Halles
,exploring
,in his panic
,
F 3
70 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
what is termed in the exquisite Latin of the char ters tomvia
,cheminum,
et c iaria,our poet -stopped short, in the
first place for want Of breath , and in the next collared, asi t were
,by a di lemma, which just occurred to his mind.
I t seemeth to me, Master Pierre Gringoire,”said he
to himself,clapping his finger to the side Of his nose
,
that you are running about like a blockhead. The youngrogues were not a whit less afraid of you than you of them.
I t seemeth to me,I tell you, that you heard their wooden
shoes clatteri ng off to the south, while you are scuddingaway to the north . Now, either they have run away, andthen the paillasse, which they have no doubt left behind intheir fright
,is precisely the hospitable bed
,for which you
have been running about ever since morning, and which theVirgin, blessed be her name ! miraculously sends to rewardyou for having composed in honour of her a morali ty accompanied by triumphs and mummeries : or
, the boys havenot run away . in that case they have set fire to the paillasse and a good fire is the very thing you want to warm,
to dry, and to cheer you . In either case, a good fire, or agood bed
,the paillasse is a gi ft of Heaven . I t was perhaps
for this very reason that the Virgin at the corner of theRue Mauconseil caused the death of Jehan Moubon andi t is stupid Of you to run your legs Off in this manner
,l ike
a Picard from a Frenchman, leaving behind what you are.seeking before you . You are a fool for your pains.He turned, and, with eyes and ears on the alert, s trove
to steer his way back to the lucky paillasse, but in vain.His course was incessantly checked by intersections Ofhou ses, blind alleys, spots where several streets terminated
,and where he was forced to pause in doubt and hesi
tation, more perplexed and more entangled in the intri caciesof those dark narrow lanes and courts than he would havebeen in the maze Of the HOtel de Tournelles i tself. Atlength
,losing all patien ce he solemnly ejaculated, Curse
these branching streets the devil must have made them inthe image of his fork.
”
This exclamation relieved him a little,and a kind Of
reddish light whi ch he perceived at the ex tremity Of a longnarrow lane helped to cheer his spiri ts . God be prai sed
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE- DAME. 7 1
said he,yonder i t is. Yonder is my paillasse burning !
And,comparing himself with the mariner who is wrecked
in the night, Salve,”he piously ej aculated, Sa lve maria
trm 1"
Whether this fragment Of the seaman’s hymn was addressed to the Blessed Virgin or to the paillasse is morethan we can take i t upon us to decide.Before he had proceeded many steps down the long lane,which was sloping and unpaved
,and which became more
and more muddy the farther he went,he percei ved some
thing that had a most extraordinary appearance. Hereand there
,all the way along it, crawled a number of indi s
tinct and shapeless masses,proceeding towards the light at
the bottom Of the lane.Nothing makes a man so adventurous as an emptypocket. Gringoire continued to advance, and soon cameup with the hindmost of these strange figures
,which was
leisurely wriggling itself along after the Others . On anear approach, b e perceived that i t was only a wretchedcripple in a bowl, who was hopping along upon both hands .
At the moment when he was passing this species Of spiderwith human face, it accosted him in a lamentable tone :La buona ma ncia , signor la buona mancia I”
The devil fetch thee,”said Gringoire, and me along
with thee, if I know what thou meanest And hewalked on.
He overtook another Of those moving masses . Thiswas a cripple too a man who had suffered such mutilation in legs and arms that the complicated system of
crutches and wooden legs by which he was supported gavehim the appearance of a walking scaffold . Gringoire
,who
was fond Of lofty and classic comparison s,likened him in
imagination to the living tripod Of Vulcan .
This living tripod took Off i ts hat to him as he passed,but held i t up under Gringoire
’
s chin , like a barber’ s
basin, at the same time bawling in his ear, Sefzor caballero, para comp rar un pedaso de panThis fellow,
” said Gringoire,seems to be talking
too ; but’
t is an Odd language,and he must be cleverer
than I am if he understands it.”
F 4
72 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
He would have quickened his pace,but
,for the third
time, something obstructed the way. Thi s something, orrather this somebody, was a little blind man, with Jewishface and long beard, who, rowing on in the space aroundhim with a stick, and towed by a great dog, sang out withnasal twang and Hungarian accent
, F acitote carita tem.
"
Come, said Pierre Gringoire, here is one at lastwho speaks a Christian language. I must have a mostbenevolent look for people to ask chari ty of me
,in this
manner, in the present meagre state of my purse . My,friend,
”continued he, turning towards the blind man,
“ i ti s not a week since I sold my last shirt
,or as you under
stand no language but Ci cero’
s,Vendidi hebdomade nu
per transita meam u ltimam chemisam.
”
This said, he turned his back on the blind man, andpursued his way. At the same time, however, the blindman quickened his pace
,and in a tri ce
,up came the two
cripples,in great has te, with a tremendous clatter of how]
and crutches upon the pavement. All three,j ostling each
other at the heels of poor Gringoire,opened upon him at
'
once .Caritatem sang the blind man .
L a buona mancia sang the man of the bowl .The other cripple joined in the concert with Un pedaso
de pan
Gringoire stopped his ears . O tower of Babel exclaimed he.He began to run for i t. The blind man ran . The
man of the bowl ran . The man with wooden legs ran .Presently he was surrounded by halt
,and lame, and blind,
by one—armed and one-eyed, and lepers with their hideoussores
,some issuing from houses
,others from the adjoining
courts,and others from cellars
,howling , bellowing, yelping,
hobbling, rushing towards the light, and bedraggled withmire
,like snails after a shower.
Gringoire,still followed by his three persecutors
, and
not knowing what to think of the matter, walked on insome alarm amidst the others, turning aside, and passingthe cripples on crutches, stepping over the heads of thosein bowls
,and entangled ln this crowd of limping, shuffling
rm: nuncnnaox or NOTE S -DAME . 73
wretches,like the English captain who found himself sud
denly surrounded by a prodigious host of land- crabs .
The idea occurred to him to try to return . But i t wastoo late . The whole legion had closed behind him, and
his three mendi cants stuck to him like bird- lime. Heproceeded
,therefore
,propelled at once by this irresistible
tide, by fear, and by a dizziness, which made the wholescene appear to him like a horrible dream.
At length he reached the extremity of the lane . I tOpened in to a spacious place
,where a thousand scattered
ligh ts flickered in the confused haze of night. . Gringoirepursued his way in to it, hoping by the lightness of hisheels to escape from the three infirm spectres who stuck soclosely to him .
0nde vas hombre cried the cripple upon crutches,
throwing them down, and running afte r him on two as
goodly legs as ever stepped upon the pavement of Paris.At the same moment the other cripple, standing bolt upright upon his feet
,clapped his heavy bowl cased with
iron upon Gringoire’
s head,by way of cap
,and the blind
man stared him in the face with a pair of flaming eyes.t ere am I cried the afl
‘
righted poet.In the Cour des Miracles, replied a fourth spectre,
who had joined them .
Miracles,upon my soul !
”rejoined Gringoire
,for
here are blind who see,and lame who run.
A sinister laugh was their only answer.The poor poe t cast hi s eyes around him. He was ac
tual ly in that dreaded Cour des M iracles, into which no
honest man had ever penetrated at such an hour,a magi c
circle, in which the officers of the Chatelet and the sergeantsof the provost, who ventured within i t, were di sposed of ina tri ce the haun t of thieves a hideous wen on the faceof Paris a sewer disgorging every morning and receivingevery night that fetid torrent of vice
,mendi city
,and
roguery, which always overflows the streets of great capitals ; a monstrous hive, to which all the drones of thesocial order retired at night with their booty ; the hospitalof imposture, where the gipsy, the unfrocked monk, theruined scholar, the blackguards of all nations, Spaniards,
741 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
I talians, Germans, of all religions,Jews
,Christians
,Ma
hometans,idolaters
,covered with painted wounds, beggars
by day,transmogrifled themselves into banditti at night ;
immense robing- room,in short
,whither all the actors of
that eternal comedy which theft,prostitution , and murder
are performing in the streets of Pari s,resorted at that
period to dress and to undress.I t was a spacious area, i rregular, and ill-paved, like all
the open places of Paris in those days. Fires,around
which swarmed strange- looking groups,were blazing here
and there. All was bustle,confusion
,uproar. Coarse
laughter,the crying of children
,the voi ces of women
,were
intermingled . The hands and heads of this multitude,
black upon a luminous ground, were making a thousandantic gestures. A dog which looked like a man, or a manwho looked like a dog, might be seen from time to timepassing over the place on which trembled the reflection ofthe fires
,interspersed with broad ill-defined shadows. The
limits between races and species seemed to be done awaywith in this city
,as in a pandemonium . Men
,women
,
brute s,age
,sex
,health
,di sease, all seemed to be in com
mon among these people. They were jum bled,huddled
together,laid upon one another ; each there partook of
every thing.The fain t and fli ckering light of the fires enabled Grin.
goire to di stingui sh, in spite of his agitation, all roundthe immense place a hideous circumference of old houses,the decayed, worm -eaten, ruinous fronts of which, eachperforated by one or two small lighted windows, appearedto him in the dark like enormous heads of old hags rangedin a circle
,watching the witches
’ sabbath rites and winkingtheir eyes . I t was like a new world, unknown, unheardof
,deformed
,creeping
,crawling
,fantasti c.
Gringoire— more and more terrified ; held by the threemendicants as by three vi ces ; deafened by a crowd of otherfaces bleating and barking around him - the unlucky Grin
goire strove to rally his presence of mind, and to recollectwhether it was Saturday or not. But his efforts werevain : the thread of his memory and of his thoughts wasbroken
,and
,doubting every thing, floating between what
mu m HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 75
he saw and what he felt, he asked himself this puz zlingquestion If I am
,can this be ? if this i s, can I be
At thi s moment a distinct shout arose from amidst thebuzzing crowd by which he was surrounded Lead himto the king ! lead him to the king 1
”
Holy Virgin ! ” muttered Gringoire the king of
this place why,he can be nothing but a goat.
To the king to the king repeated every voice.He was hurried away. The rabble rushed to lay hands
on him,but the three mendi cants held him fast in their
gripe,tearing him away from the others
,and bawling
,
He is ours The poet’
s doublet, previously in wretchedplight
,was utterly ruined in this struggle.
While crossing the horrible place, the vertigo which hadconfused his senses was dispelled. He had taken but afew steps before a conviction of the reality flashed uponhim. He began to become used to the atmosphere of theplace . At the first moment there had risen from his poeti cbrain
,and perhaps
,to speak quite simply and prosai cally
,
from his empty stomach, a fume, a vapour, which, spreading i tself between objects and him, had permitted him to
ca tch a glimpse of them only in the distorting haze of thenigh tmare, in that darkness of dreams, which shows alloutlines as shaking, all forms as grinning, all objects asheaped together in preposterous groups
,dilating things
into chimeras and men in to phantoms . By degrees thishallucination gave place to views less wild and less ex aggerating. Reality burst upon him, paining his eyes, treading upon his toes, and demolish ing piecemeal the wholefrightful poesy by which he had at first fancied himsel fto be surrounded. He could not help perceiving that hewas not walking in the Styx
,but in the mud ; that he was
not elbowed by demons, but by robbers that his soul wasnot in danger, but merely his life, because he lacked thatexcellent mediator between the rufflan and the honest manthe purse. In short, upon examining the scene more
closely and more coolly he fell from the witches’ sabbathdown to the tavern . The Cour des Miracles was in factnothing but a tavern, but a tavern for ru fflans, quite asmuch stained with blood as with wine.
'rm : m mcnnacx or NOTRE-DAME . 77
obscene song. Each did just as b e pleased,swearing and
descanting,without listening to his neighbour. The pots
j ingled,quarrels arose
,and broken mugs occasioned a de
struction of rags.A large dog was seated on his rump, looking at the fire.Young children were present at these orgies. The stolenboy was crying bitterly. Another, a stout fellow aboutfour years old
,was sitting on a high bench, dangling his
legs at the table,whi ch reached up to his chin, and saying
not a word. A third was gravely spreading with his fingerthe melted tallow which ran from a candle upon the table.The last
,a little urchin
,crouching in the dirt
,was almost
lost in a kettle,which he was scraping with a tile
,and from
which he was extracting sounds that would have thrownStradivarius in to a swoon .
Near the fire stood a hogshead,and upon this hogshead
was seated a mendicant. This was the king upon histhrone. The three vagabonds who held Gringoire led himbefore the hogshead
,and for a moment the whole motley
assemblage was silent,excepting the kettle inhabi ted by the
boy. Gringoi re durst not breathe or raise his eyes .Hombre, quita tu sombrero, said one of the three fel
lows in whose clutches he was,and
,before he knew what
was meant, one of the others took off his hat— a shabbycovering, i t is true, but still useful either against sun orrain . Gringoire sighed.
What varlet have we here ? ” asked the king. Grin
goire shuddered. This voice, though i t now had a tone ofmenace, reminded him of another which had that verymorning given the first blow to his mystery
,by drawling out
amidst the audience, Chari ty,if you please He rai sed
his eyes . I t was Clopin Trouillefou himself.Clopin Trouillefou, invested with the insignia of royalty,
had not a rag more or a rag less than usual . The sore onhis arm had di sappeared. He held in hi s hand one of thewhips composed of thongs of white leather
,which were used
by the vergers in those days to keep back the crowd. Onhis head he wore a cap of such peculiar form that i t wasdifficult to tell whether i t was a child
’
s biggin or a king’s
crown— so much are the two things alike. Gringoire,how
’
78 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
ever, had regained some h0pe, though without knowingwhy, on recognising in the king of the Cour des Miraclesthe provoking beggar
'
of the great hall.Master,
”he stammered forth, my lord sire
what ought I to call you ? he at length asked,having
arrived at the culminating point of his crescendo,and not
knowing how to get higher or to descend again .Call me your majesty, or comrade, or what thou wilt.
But make haste. What hast thou to say in thy defence ?In thydefence thought Gringoire : I don
’
t half likethat. I t was I— I I he resumed, with the
’
samehesi tation as before
,who
,this morning
By the devil ’s hoofs cried Clopin, interrupting him,
thy name,knave, and nothing more. Mark me. Thou
art in the presence of three mighty sovereigns,myself
,
Clopin Troui llefou, king of Thunes, and supreme ruler ofthe realm of Slang Mathias Hunyadi Spicali, duke ofEgypt and Bohemia
,that sall ow old crone whom thou
seest yonder,with a clout round his head and Guillaume
Rousseau,emperor of Gali lee, the porpoise who is too busy
wi th that trull to attend to us. We are thy judges . Thouh ast en tered our territories without being one of our subj eeta thou hast violated the privileges of our ci ty. Thoumust be punished
,unless thou art a prig
,a cadger
,or a
stroller,— or
,to use the gibberish of those who call them
selves honest people,a thief, a beggar, or a vagrant . Art
thou any of these ? justify thyself : state thy quali ties.“Al as ! ” sighed Gringoire, I have not that honour.
I am the authorEnough exclaimed Trouillefou, without suffering
him to proceed . Thou shalt be hanged. And qui teright too, mes sieurs honest citi zens ! As you deal by ourpeople among you so we will deal by yours among us.The law which you make for theVagabonds, the Vagabondswill enforce with you .
’
T i s your faul t if i t i s a harsh one .I t i s but proper that an honest man shoul d now and thenbe seen grinning through a hempen collar— that makes thething honourable . Come, my friend, divide thy rags witha good grace among these wenches. I will have thee hangedto amuse the vagabonds , and thou shalt
'
give them thy
m s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 79
purse to drink. If thou has t any mummery to make, godown in to the cellar there is a capital God Almighty instone
,which we picked up at St. Pierre- aux-B (eufs . Thou
hast four minutes to settle the affairs of thy soul ."
This was an alarming announcemen t.l Vell said, upon my life Clopin Trouillefou preaches
like his holiness the pope,
"cried the emperor of Gal ilee,
breaking his pot to prop up his table.Most puissant emperors and kings, said Gringoire qui te
coolly— I never coul d make out how he recovered sufficientfirmness to talk so resolutely you cannot mean whatyou say . My name is Pierre Gringoire I am the poe t
,
whose morality was represen ted this morning in the greathall of the Palace.”
“Oho ! master ! said Clopin . I was there too. But ,comrade
,because we were annoyed by thee in the morning,
i s that any reaso n why thou shouldst not be hung to
nightI shall be puzzled to get myself ou t of this scrape,
thought Gringoire. He made nevertheless another effort.“I do not see, said he,
“why poets should not beclassed among the vagabonds. fEsop was a vagabond,Homer a beggar
,Mercury a thief.
Clopin interrupted him . I verily believe thou thinkes tto bamboozle us with thy palaver.
’
Sdeath as thou mustbe hanged
,make no more ado.”
Pardon me, most illustrious king of Thunes, repliedGringoire, disputing the ground inch by inch is i tworth while — only one moment— you will not condemnme unheardHis voice was absolute ly drowned by the uproar which
prevailed around him . The little urchin continued to .
scrape his kettle with greater energy than ever ; and, tomend the matter, an old woman had just placed on thered-hot trevet a frying pan full of fat, which yelped andca ckled over the fire, like a dog that has been pipe- taile dby a troop of mischievous boys.Clopin Trou illefou appeared to be conferring for a
momen t wi th the duke of Egypt,and the emperor of
Galilee, who was quite dru nk. He then cried out sharply,
rm : HUNOHBACK or Nor s e -name . 8 1
The men of Slang, decidedly so, answered Gringoire .Thou acknowledgest thyself one of the crew ? ” pro
ceeded the king of Thunes .One of the crew .
”
A subject of the kingdom of Cant ?
Of the kingdom of Cant.”
A Vagabond ?”
A Vagabond .
With all thy soul ?With all my soul .Take notice
,
” said the king, thou shal t neverthelessbe hanged .
”
The devil ejaculated the poet.Only
,
” continued Clopin with imperturbable gravi ty,thou shalt be hanged not quite so soon and with moreceremony
,at the cost of the good city of Paris, on a fair
s tone gibbet,and by the hands of hones t men . That i s
some consolation .
As you say,replied Gringoire.
There are some other advantages which thou wiltenj oy. As one of the crew, thou wilt not have to pay rates,ei ther for lamp
,scavenger
,or poor
,to which the honest
burges ses of Paris are liable.”
Be i t so said the poet. I am a Vagabond, a subj cet of the kingdom of Cant, one of the crew, a man ofSlang
,any thing you please nay, I was all these before
,
august king of Thunes,for I am a philosopher et omnia
in philosophic, omnes in philosopho continentur, you know .
"
The august king of ‘Thunes knitted his brow. Whatdo you take me for
,my friend ? What Hungary Jew gib
berish are you talking now P I know nothing of Hebrew .
One may be a rufl‘ian without being a Jew.
”
Gringoire strove to slip in an excuse between thesebriefsentences cut short by anger. I beg your majesty
’
spardon : i t i s not Hebrew
,but Latin .
"I tell thee
,rejoined Clopin furiously
,I am not a
JeW, and I will have thee hanged
,varlet ay, and that
li ttle Jew pedlar beside thee,whom I hope some day to see
nailed to a counter,like a piece of base coin as he is .
As he thus spoke,he pointe d to the li ttle bearded Hun
G
82 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
garian Jew, who, acquain ted with no other language butthat in which he had accosted Gringoire, was surprised at
the ill -humour which the king of Thunes appeared to beventing upon him .
At length K ing Clopin became somewhat more calm .
Knave,
"said he to our poet, thou hast a mind then to
be a VagabondUndoubtedly
,replied Gringoire.
’Tis not enough to have a m ind, said his surlymajesty : good-will puts not one more onion into the soup.To be admitted into our brotherhood, thou must provethat thou art fi t for something. Show us thy skill atpicking a pocket.Any thing you please , said the poe t.
C lopin made a sign. Several of the Vagabonds left thecircle
,and presentl y returned. They brought two poles,
each having a flat hori zon tal piece of wood fastened at thelower extremity
,upon which i t s tood upright on the ground.
Into the upper ends of these two poles the bearers fit ted across-bar, and the whole then formed a very handy portable gibbet, which Gringoire had the satisfaction to see setup before his face in a tri ce . Nothing was wanting
,not
even the cord,which dangled gracefully from the cros s
bar.What are they about now said Gringoire to him self
,
while his heart sunk within him . A tinkling of smallbell s put an end to his anxiety. I t was the figure of aman
,a kind of scarecrow, ina red dress, so profusely be
studded with li ttle bells that they would have su fficed forthe caparison of thirty Castilian mules, which the Vaga.bonds were suspending by the neck from the rope. The
chatter of these thousand be lls, occasioned by the swingingof the rope, gradually subsided, and at length ceased eu
tirely with the motion of the effigy.C lopin poin ted to a crazy stool placed unde r the figure .
Get upon that said he to Gringoire.’Sdeath rej oined the poet, I shall bre ak myneck.
Your stool halts like a distich of Martial’
s ; i t has one
hexameter and one pentameter foot.”
Get up,knave repeated Clopin.
m a HUNCHBACK or NOTRE- DAME. 83
Gringoire mounted the stool, and, after some oscillations
of head and arms, recovered his centre of gravi ty.Now
,
" continued the king of Thunes , cross thyright leg over the left and stand on tip- toe .
”
M orbleu cried Gringoire, then you absolutelyins ist on i t that I shall break some of my limbs ?
”
Clopin shook his head. Hark ye, my friend, thoutalkest too much for me. In two word s this i s what thouhas t to do. Thou must stand on tiptoe as I tell thee, so
m to reach the pocket of the figure . Thou must take ou ta purse that is in i t
,and if thou canst do this without
making any of the bell s speak,’
t is well : thou shalt be aVagabond. lVe shall then have nothing to do but to has tethee soundly for a week or so .
”
Ventre D ieu exclaimed Gringoire. And if the bellsshould give mouth in spite of me ?
”
Why,then thou shalt be hanged ; dos t thou compre
hend meNot at all
,answered Gringoire .
Well then I tell thee once more. Thou must pickthe pocket of that figure of
'
a purse,and if a single bell
sti rs, while thou art about'
i t,thou shalt be hanged. Do st
thou understand that ?I do,
” said Gringoire. And thenIf thou art clever enough to pn
’
g the purse wi thoutsetting the bell s a-chattering, thou art a Canter, and shaltbe soundly thrashed every now and then for a week . Thouunders tandest that
,no doubt ? ”
But what bette r shall I be ? Hanged in one case,bea ten in the otherAnd a Canter rejoined Clopin
,
“a Canter I s thatnothing ? I t i s for thy own benefi t that we shall beatthee, to enure thee to blows.
”
Many thanks to you replied the poe t.Come, bear a hand said the king
,stamping upon
his hogshead, which sounded like a big drum . To thyta sk, knave ! And recolle ct, if I hear but a. single bell,thou shalt change pl aces with that figure .
”
The crew applaud ed C lopin ’a words, and ranged themselves in a circle round the gallows
,with so pitiless a laugh
G 2
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 85
Bellevigne de l’
Etoile, said the king of Thunes, to aporpoise of a fellow
,who stepped forth from the ranks,
scramble up to that cross—bar.” ‘ The mons ter mountedwith an agili ty for which no one would have given himcredit
,and Gringoire
,rai sing hi s eyes
,beheld him with
terror crouching on the cross-beam over his head.Now
,
” resumed Clopin,the moment I clap my
hands,thou Andry the Red, kick away the stool thou
Francois Chanteprune pull the varlet’s legs
,and thou,
Bellevigne, spring upon his shoulders — all three at once,d
’
ye hearGringoire shuddered.
Are ye there said Clopin Trouillefou to the threeruflians, ready to rush upon the unfortunate poet. Thewretched man passed a moment of horrid suspen se, whileC lopin carelessly kicked into the fire a few twigs which theflame had not consumed. Are ye there he repea ted
,
opening his hands for the decisive clap.He stopped short
,as if a sudden thought had occurred
to him . Wait a moment said he, I forgot I t i scustomary with us not to hang a blade, till the women havebeen asked whether any of them will have him . Comrade,thi s is thy last chance.Gringoire breathed once more. I t was the second timethat he had come to life within the last half hour . Hedurst not, therefore, place much relian ce upon this reprieve.Clopin again mounted his hogshead. This way
,gen
tle folks cried he. Is there any strumpet among you ,who will have this knave ? Come forward and see ! Ahusband for nothing ! Who wants ones . Gringoire, in this wre tched plight, looked far fromtempting. The female mumpers showed no eagerness toaccept the offer. The unhappy man heard them answerone after another, No
,no
,hang him
,and that will be a
pleasure for us all .Three of them, however, s tepped forward from a mong
the crowd to take a look at him . The first was a strappingbroad-faced wench. She closely examined the deplorabledoublet and the threadbare frock of the philosopher. She
shrugged her shoulders . Queer toggery grumbled she.o 3
86 THE B UNCH B ACK or? NOTRE- DAME.
Then turning to Gringoire : W here is thy cloak Ihave lost i t
,
” answered he. Thy hat 3 They havetaken i t from me .
”Thy shoes They are nearly
worn out.”
Thy purse Alas !” stammered Grin
goire, I have not a denier left. Hang then,and be
thankful !”replied the wench
,turning on her heel and
striding away.The second
,an old wrinkled hag
,dark
,and hideously
ugly walked round Gringoire. He almost trembled lest sheshould take a fancy to him . At length she muttered to
herself,He is as lean as a carrion
,
” and away she went.The third was young
,fresh- looking
,and not ill - favoured.
Save me said the po or devil to her in a low tone . Shesurveyed him for a moment wi th a look of pity
,cast down
her eyes,twitched her petti coat
,and stood for a momen t
undecided. He narrowly watched all her motions. I t wasthe last glimmer of hope. N said she at last noGuillaume Longjoue would beat me, and she rej oined thecrowd .
Comrade,said Clopin
,thou art unlucky. Then
standing up on his hogshead, Will nobody bid ? criedhe
,imitating the manner of an auctioneer, to the high di
version of the crew. Will nobody bid ? once, twice,three times and then turning to the gallows, with a nodof the head, GoneBe llevigne de l
’
E toile, Andry the Red, and FrancoisChanteprune again surrounded the gibbet. At that moment cries of La Esmeralda ! La Esmeral da aroseamong the Vagabonds. Gringoire shuddered, and turnedthe way from which the clamour proceeded . The crowdopened and made way for a bright and dazzling figure. I twas the gipsy-girl .La Esmeralda ej aculated Gringoire, struck, am ids t
his agi tation at the sudden manner in which that magicname connected his
,scattered recollections of the events of
the day. This ex traord inary creature appeared by her fascination and beauty to exercise sovereign sway over theCour des Miracles i tself. I ts inmates of bo th sexes re
spectfullydrew back for her to pass, and at sight of her
their brutal faces assumed a softer expression . With light
ru e u u x cnna cn or NOTRE-DAME . 87
s tep she approached the sufferer. Her pretty Dj ali foll owedat her heels . Gringoire was more dead than alive. Sheeyed him for a moment in silence.Are you going to hang this man ? said she gravely
to Clopin.Yes
,sister
,replied the king of Thunes, unless thou
wilt take him for thy husband .
”
Her lower lip was protruded into the pretty pout alreadydescribed .
I will take him,said she.
Gringoire was now thoroughly convinced that he hadbeen in a dream ever since morning, and that this was buta continuation of i t. The shock, though agreeabl e, wasviolent. The noose was removed, the poet was dismounte dfrom the stool
,on which he was obliged to sit down
,so
vehement was his agitation .
The duke of Egypt, without uttering a word, broughtan earthenware jug. The gipsy-girl handed i t to Grin
goire . Drop i t on the ground, said she to him . The
jug broke in to four pieces .Bro ther
,
”said the duke of Egyp t, placing a hand
upon the head of each, she is thy wife. Sister, he is thyhusband. For four years . Go.
”
CHAPTER VII.
A W EDDING N IGHT
IN a few moments our poet found himself in a small room,
with coved ceiling, very snug and very warm,seated at a
table, which appeared to desire nothing better than to drawa few loans from a cupboard suspended close by
,having a
prospect of a good bed,and a téte-d—téte with a handsome
girl. The adventure was like absolute enchantment. Hebegan seriously to take himself for the hero of some fairytal e ; and looked round from time to time to see whetherthe chariot of fire drawn by griffins, which could alone haveconveyed him with such rapidity from Tartarus to Paradise,
0 4
ru n HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 89
me to distraction,to have taken me in this manner. For
,
said he,rising all a t once with that candour which formed
the groundwork of his characte r and of his philosophy, Iknow not exactly how i t has come to pass, but I am her
husband.With thi s idea inhis head and in hi s eyes, he approached
the girl with such ardent impetuosity that she drew back.IVhat do
‘you want with me ?”enquired she.
Can you ask such a question, adorable Esmeralda ?rej oined Gringoire in so impassioned a tone that he wasastonished at i t himself.The Egyptian opened her large eyes . I know not
what you mean,” said she.
What ! ” repliedGringoire,warming more and more, andthinking that after all i t was but a virtue of the Cour desM iracles that he had to do with : am I not thine
,my
sweet friend ? art thou not mine With these words hefondl y threw his arm round her waist.The drapery of the Bohemian glided through his hands
like the skin of an eel . Bounding from oneend of the cellto the other, she stooped, and rai sed herself again, with ali ttle dagger in her hand
,before Gringoire could see whence
i t came, with swollen lip, distended nostril, cheeks as redas an apri cot, and eyes flashing lightning. At the samemoment the li ttle white goat placed i tself before her in theattitude of attack, presen ting to Gringoire two very prettybut very sharp gil t horns. All this was done in a twinkling.Our philosopher stood petrified, alternately eyeing the
goat and her mis tress. Holy Virgin he at lengthej aculated, when surprise allowed him to speak, what acouple of vixensAnd you,
”said the Bohemian
,breaking silen ce on her
part, must be a very impuden t fellow .
"
Pardon me,” replied Gringoire smiling. But why
did you take me for your husband ?
Ought I to have let you be hanged ?Then, rej oined the poet, somewhat di sappointed in
his amorous hopes, you had no other intention in mar
tying me but to save me from the gallows ?
90 THE HUNCHBACK o e NOTRE-DAME .
And what other intention do you suppo se I could havehad P
Gringoire bi t hi s l ips . “Go to, said he to himself, I amnot so triumphant in love affairs as I imagined. But then
,
of what use was i t to break the poor jug ? ”
Meanwhile Esmeralda’
s dagger and the horns of her goatwere still upon the defensive .
Mademoiselle Esmeralda, said the poet, let us ca
pitulate. I am not a clerk to the Chatelet,and shall not
provoke you thus to carry a dagger in Paris,in the tee th of
the provost’s ordinances and prohibitions. Y ou must,ne
vertheles s, be aware that Noel Lescrivain was sentenceda week ago to pay a fine of ten sous Parisis for havingcarried a short sword. But that is no business of mine
,
so to return to the point— I swear to you by my hopes of ,Paradi se not to approach you without your permission andconsent ; but, for Heaven
’s sake,give me some supper.”
In reali ty Gringoire, l ike Despreau x , was not of a veryamorous temperament. He belonged not to that chivah'ic
and military class who take young damsels by assault. Inlove
,as in all other affairs, he was for temporising and
pursuing middle courses ; and to him a good supper, withan agreeable companion, appeared, especially when he washungry, an excellent interlude between the prologue andthe winding -up of a love adventure.The Egyptian made no reply. She gave her di sdainful
pout,erected her head like a bird, and burst into a loud
laugh : the pretty little dagger vanished as i t had come, sothat Gringoire could not discover where the bee concealed
In a moment a loaf of rye-bread, a sl i ce of bacon, somewrinkled apples
,and a jug of beer
,were se t out upon the
table . Gringoire fell to with such avidity, as if all his lovehad been changed in to appetite. His hostess, seated beforehim
,looked on in silence, visibly engaged with some other
thought, at which she smiled from time to time, while hersoft hand stroked the head of the intelligent g oat, closelypressed between her knees. A candle of yellow wax lightedthis scene of voracity and reverie.The first cravings of his stomach being appeased, Grin
THE n uncnnacn or NOTB E-DAME . 91
goire” felt a degree of false shame on perceiving that there
was only one apple left. Do you not ea t something,Mademoiselle Esmeralda ? ” said he. She replied in thenegative by a shake of the head, and her pensi ve looks werefixed on the vaulted ceiling of the cell .W hat the devil can she be thinking of ? said Gringoire
to himself turning his eyes in the same direction as hers.I t i s impossible that yon ugly head carved on the groiningcan thus engross her attention. Surely I may stand a compari son with that.
Mademoiselle,said he
,raising his voice . She ap
peared not to hear him . Mademoiselle Esmeralda ! ”
he again began in a stil l louder tone,to jus t as little
purpose. The spirit of the damsel was elsewhere, and thevoice of Gringoire had not the power to recall i t. Luckilyfor him the goat interfered, and began to pull her mistressgently by the sleeve. What do you want
,Dj ali P” said
the Egyptian sharply, starting like one awakened out of asound sleep.She is hungry , said Gringoi re, deligh ted at the op
portunity of opening the conversation .La Esmeralda began crumbling some bread, which Dj ali
gracefully ate out of the hollow of her hand. Gringoire,without giving her time to resume her reverie, venturedupon a delicate question. Then you will not have me foryour husband said he .The damsel looked at him inten tly for a moment, and
replied No.v For your lover ? asked Gringoire.She pouted her lip, and again replied No.For your friend ?"continued Gringoire.She again fixed her eyes stedfastly upon him . Per.
haps,”said she
,afte r a moment’s reflection .
This perhaps , so dear to philosophers, emboldened Grin
goire . Do you know what friendship is ?"he enquired.
Yes,”replied the Egyptian ; “i t is to be as brother and
sister, two souls which touch each other without uniting,like two fingers of the same hand.And love proceeded Gringoire.Oh love said she
,and her voice trembled
,and her
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 93
with her hands,and she shivered as from the effec t of
intense cold.
Horrid,indeed ! said Gringoire, without relinquish
ing his idea ; but how did you get away from him ? ”
La Esmeralda smiled,sighed
,and made no reply.
Do you know why he followed you resumed Grin
goire, seeking to return to his question by a roundaboutway.I do not
,
”said the girl. But,
”added she sharply
,
you followed me too why did you follow me ?”
In good sooth,replied Gringoire, I do not know
ei ther.”
Both were then silent. Gringoire took up his knife andbegan to cut the table. The damsel smiled and seemedto be looking at something through the wall . All at onceshe commenced singing in a voice scarcely arti cula te
,
finando las pintadas ave.udas es tan, y la tierra.
She then abruptly broke off and began to caress her Dj ali.That is a pretty creature of yours
,
” observed Grin
T is my sister,repli ed she.
W hy are you called La Esmeralda ? ” enquired‘
the
I can’ t tell .N0
,sure 1
"
She drew from her bosom a small oblong bag,attached
to a necklace of small red seeds,and emitting a very strong
scent of camphor. The outside was green silk,and in the
middle of i t there was a large bead of green glass in imi
Perhaps i t i s on account of this,
” said she .Gringoire extended hi s hand to lay hold of the bag
,but
she started back. Don ’t touch it,said she ;
’
t is anamulet. You might do an injury to the charm
, or thecharm to you .
”
The curiosity of the poet was more and more exci ted.Who gave you that he asked .
She laid her finger upon her l ips,and replaced the amulet
94 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
in her bosom . He ven tured upon further question s, but
could scarcely obtain answers to them .
What is the meaning of La Esmeralda ?I know not,
"said she .To what language does the word belong ?I t i s Egyptian, I believe .
”
I thought so,” said Gringoire. Y ou are not a nati ve
of FranceI don
’
t know .
Are your parents livingShe began singing to the tune of an old song
My fa ther ’s a bind ,
A nd mym other‘s h is mate ;I pa ss the broad watersW ithout.boat or bait.
How old were you when you came to France ?”
I was quite a child .
”
And to Paris ?”
Last year. At the moment we were entering thepapal gate, I saw the yellowhammers flying in a line overour heads. I t was then the end of August
,and I said
We shall have a sharp winter.’
And so we have, said Gringoire, delighted with thiscommencemen t of conversation ; I have done nothingbut blow my fingers since i t set in . W hy, then, you possess the gift of prophecy
No, replied she, relapsing into her laconi c manner.
The man whom you call the duke of Egypt is thechief o f your tribe
,I presume
Y es .”
And yet i t was he who married us,”timidl y observed
the poet.Her lip exhibi ted the accustomed pou t. I don
’
t e venknow your name,
"said she.My name
,i f you wish to know it, i s Pierre Gringoire.
’
I know a much finer,” said she.
How unkind replied the poe t. Never mind
you shall not m ake m e angry. Y ou will, perhaps, love mewhen you are better acquain ted with me ; and you have
THE nunonna cx or norms-name . 95
re lated your his tory to me wi th such candour that I cannotwithhold mine from you .
You must know then that my name is Pierre Grin
goire, and that my father held the situ ation of notary atGonesse. He was hanged by the Burgundians, and mymother was murdered by the Picards, at the siege of Pari stwenty years ago so
,at six years old I W as left an orphan
wi th no other sole to my foot but the pavement of Paris.I know not how I passed the interval between six and sixteen . Here, a fruitwoman gave me an apple or a plum ;there
,a baker tossed me a crust of bread at night I threw
myself in the way of the watch, who picked me up and
pu t me in prison, where I found at leas t a bundle of straw.
In spite of this kind of life I grew tal l and slim, as yousee . In win te r I warmed myself in the sunshine, underthe porch of the hotel of Sens, and I thought i t very absurdthat the bonfires of St. John should be deferred n early tothe dog-days. At sixteen, I began to think of adoptinga profession, and successively tried my hand at every thingI turned soldier bu t was not b rave enough ; I became amonk but was not devout enough, and besides, I could notdrink hard enough . In despair I apprenti ced myself to acarpenter, but was not strong enough. I had a muchgreater fancy to be a schoolmaster true
,I had not learned
to read, but what of that ? After some time I discoveredthat
,owing to some defi ciency or other, I was fi t for no
thing, and therefore set up for a poet. This is a profession to which a man who is a vagabond m ayalways be takehimself, and i t i s better than to thieve
,as some young
rogues of my acquaintan ce advi sed me to do. One day,
as good luck would have it, M im i-1m m ,
the reverend archdeacon of Notre-Dame,who took a liking
to me, and to him I owe i t that I am this day a learnedman, not unpracti sed either in scholas ti cs, poetics, or
rhythmics, nor even in hermeti cs, that sophia of all sophim.
I am the author of the mystery that was performed to-daybefore a prodigious con course of people, with immense applause, 1n the great hall of the Palace of Justice. I ha vealso written a book of six hundred pages on the prodigiouscomet of 1465, which tu rned a man s brain, and have dis .
m s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 97
a sensa tion similar to that experien ced by M icromegaswhen he lay at his full length upon the Alps.
lVell, said he, accommodating himself to this un
comfortable couch as well as he could,
’t i s of no use togrumble. But at any rate this is a strange weddingnight !"
98 THE nUNa ACK or NOTRE-DAME.
BOOK I II .
CHAPTER I.
THE church of Notre-Dame at Paris is no doubt still asublime and majesti c edifice . But
,notwithstanding the
beauty which i t has retained even in its old age, one cannothelp feeling grief and indignation at the numberless injuries and mutilations which time and man have infli cted onthe venerable structure
,regardless of Charlemagne who laid
the first stone of i t and of Philip Augustus who laid thelast.0 11 the face of this aged queen of our cathedral s we
always find a scar beside a wrinkle. Tempu s eda x ,homo
edacior which I should translate thus : — Time is blind,
man stupid.
If we had leisure to examine with the reader,one by
one,the different traces of destruction left upon the ancient
church,we should find that Time had had much less hand
in them than men and especially profess ional men .
In the first place, to adduce only some capital examples,there are assuredly few more beautiful specimens of architecture than that facade, where the three porches withtheir pointed arches the plin th embroidered and frettedwi th twenty- eight royal niches the immense central mul
lioned window, flanked by its two lateral windows,like
the priest by the deacon and the sub- deacon the lofty andlight gallery of Open-work arcades supporting a heavyplatform upon its slender pillars lastly
,the two dark and
massive towers with their slated penthouses harmoniousparts of a magnificent whole, placed one above another infive giganti c stages — p resent themselves to the eye in a
Tu e HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 99
crowd yet without confusion, wi th their innumerable detailso f s tatuary, sculpture, and carving, powerfully contributingto the tranquil grandeur of the whole a vast symphonyof stone, if we may be allowed the expression the colossalproduct of the combination of all the force of the age
,in
which the fancy of the workman,chastened by the genius
of the artist, is seen starting forth in a hundred form s uponevery stone : in short, a sort of human creation , mighty andfertile as the divine creation, from which i t seems to haveborrowed the two- fold character of variety and eternity .
What we here say of the facade must be said of thewhole church and what we say of the cathedral of Pari smust be said of all the churches of Christendom in themiddle ages . But to return to the facade of None-Dame,such as i t appears to us at presen t
,when we piously repair
thither to admire the solemn and gorgeous cathedral,which
,
to use the language of the chroniclers,by its vastness
struck terror into the spectator."
That facade, as we now see i t, has lost three importan taccessories : in the first place
,the flight of eleven steps
,
which raised i t above the level of the ground ; in the next,the lower range of statues which filled the niches of thethree porches
,and the upper range of twenty- eight mb
'
r'
e
ancient sovereigns of France which adorned the gallery ofthe fi rst story
,commencing with Childebert and ending
with Philip Augustus, holding in hi s hand the imperialglobe .Time
,raising by a slow and irresistible progress the
level of the city,occasioned the removal of the steps but if
this rising tide of the pavemen t of Paris has swallowed up,
one after another,those eleven steps which added to the
majesti c height of the edifice, Time has given to _
thechurch more perhaps than it has taken away;
' for i t i sTime that has imparted to the facade that sombre hue ofantiqui ty which makes the old age of buildings the periodof their greatest beauty ;But who has thrown down the two ranges of statues ?
- who has left the niches empty ? — who has insertedthat new a nd bas tard p oiw arch in the middl e of the“ h e. W
.
beautiful central porch ? mmH 2
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 1 01
Holy Chapel (likewise destroyed) rose , ligh t, elegant, andsonorous
,mto the air, overtopping the towers ? I t was
amputated ( 1 787) by an archi tect of taste, who deemed i tsufficient to cover the wound with that large plaster of lead
,
which looks,for all the world
,like the lid o f a saucepan .
I t is thus that the wonderful art of the middle ages hasbeen treated in almost every country
,especially in France.
In its ruins we may distinguish thpgej inda ofl i njuries,which have affected i t in different degrees in the first placeTime
,which has here and there chapped and every where
worn its surface ; in the next, remlufinns, poli ti cal andreljg
'
ml s , which, blind and furious by natu 1 e, have rushedtumultuously upon it
,stripped i t of its rich garb of sculptures
and carvings,broken its open work and i ts chains of
arabesques and fanciful figures, torn down its statues, sometimes on account of their mitres
,at others on account of
their crowns lastly,the fashions ore and more silly and
M 959“? which sil i cem idmdeviations of the regen
erationh ave succeeded each other in the necessary declineo f architecture . The fashions have in fact done more mischief than revolutions . They have cut into the quickthey have attacked the osseous system of the art ; theyhave b acked
,hewn
, mangledp m urdered, the h uilding, inthe form as well as in the symbol
,in its log ic not less than
in i ts beauty. And then,they have renewed — a presump
tion froTn which at. least time and revolu t1ons have beenexempt.
‘
In the name of good taste, forsooth, they haveimpudently clapped upon the wounds of Gothic archi te cturetheir paltry gewgaws of a dav their ribands of marble,their pompoons of metal
,a downright leprosy of eggs
,volutes
,
spirals,draperies
,garlands
,fringes
,flames of stone
,clouds
of bronze,plethori c cupids
,chubby cherubs
,which begins
to eat into the face of art in the oratory of Catherine de ’
Medi cis, and puts i t to death two centuries later, writh ingand grinning in the boudoir of the Dubarry.Thus, to sum up the poin ts to which we have directed
attention, three kinds of ravages now-a-days disfigure Gothicarchi tecture : wrinkles and warts on the epidermis— theseare the work of Time ; wounds, cont
'
usions,fractures
,from
brutal violence—Rhese are the work of revolutions fromH 3
102 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
Luther to Mirabeau ; mut ilations, amputations, dislocationsof members, restorations — this IS the barbarous Greek andRoman W ork of
”
professors, according to Vitruvius andV1gnole That magnificent art which the Vand als producedacademies have murdered . With Time and revolutions,whoseravages are
,at any rate,m arked by impartiality and grandeur,
has been associated a host of architects,duly bred
,duly
patented,and duly sworn
,despoiling with the discernment
of bad taste,substitu ting the chicories of Louis XV. to the
Gothic lace-work,for the greater glory of the Parthenon .
This is truly the ass’s kick to the expiring lion ; the old
oak throwing out i ts leafy crown,to be bitten
,gnawed
,and
torn by caterpillars.How widely different this from the period when Robert
Cenalis,comparing Notre-‘Dame at Paris with the famous
temple of Diana at Ephesus,
“so highly extolled by theancient heathen
,
” pronounced the Gallican cathedral “moreexcellent in length
,breadth, height, and stru cture.
”
Notre-Dame,however
,i s not what may be called a com
plete building, nor does i t belong to any definite class . I ti s not a Roman church
,neither is i t a Gothic church
Notre Bameh as not,like the abbey of Tournus
,the heavy
,
massive squareness,the cold nakedness
,the majestic sim
plicity, of edifices which have the circular arch for theirgenerative principle. I t is not, like the cathed ral of Bourges,the magnificent
,light
,multiform
,efilorescent, highly deco
rated production of the pointed arch . I t cannot be classedamong that ancient family of churches, gloomy, mysterious,low, and crushed as i t were by the circular arch ,
quitehieroglyphi c, sacerdotal, symbolical , exhibiting in theirdecorations more lozenges and zigzags than flowers, moreflowers than animals
,more animals than human figures ;
the work not so much of the architect as of the bishop ;the first transformation of the art
,impressed all over with
theocrati c and mili tary discipline , commencing in theLower Empire and terminating withWilliam the Conqueror.Neither can our cathedral be placed in that other family ofchurches, light, lofty, rich in painted glass and sculpturessharp in form , hold in atti tude ; free, capricious, unru ly,as works of art ; the second transformation of architecture,
THE H UNOHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 103
no longer hieroglyphic, unchangeable, and sacerdotal, buta rtistical, progressive, and popular, b eginning with
,
the return from the Crusades and ending with Louis XI . NotreDame is not of pure Roman extraction like the former,neither i s i t of pure Arab extraction, like the latte r.I t ja g trarl sition ifice . The, Sax on architect had set up
t rst pi llars of t e nfie‘
,when the“
p’
le,brought
back from the Crusades,seated itself li e a conqueror upon
those broad Roman capi tals designed to support circulararches only. The pointed style
,thenceforward mistress,
constructe d the rest of the church ; but, unpractised andtimid at its outset
,i t displays a breadth
,a flatness, and
dares not yet shoot up in to steeples and pinnacles, as i t hassince done in so many wonderful cathedrals .
’
You wouldsay that i t is affected by the vicinity of the heavy Romanpillars .For the rest
,those edifices of the transition from the
Roman to the Gothic style are not less valuable as s tudiesthan the pure types of either. They express a shade ofthe art which woul d be lost but for them — the engraftingof the poin ted upon the circular style .Notre-Dame at Paris i s a particularly curious specimen
of this variety. Every face,every stone
,of the venerable
‘
jstructure is a pggefl not only of the history of the country,
1 but also of the historyof_art ,and sciep ce . Thus,to glance
merely at the principal.
details,while the little Porte Rouge
attains almost to the limits of the Gothic deli cacy of thefifteenth century, the pillars of the nave, by their bulk andheaviness, carry you back to the date of the Carlovingianabbey of St. Germain des Pre
’
s . Y ou would imagine thatthere were six centuries between that door-way and thosepill ars. There are none
,down to the alchymis ts themselves,
but find in the symbols of the grand porch a satisfactorycompendium of their science
, of which the church of St.Jacques de la Boucherie was so complete an hieroglyphic .Thus the Roman abbey and the philosophical church ,Gothic art and Saxon art
,the heavy round pill ar, which
reminds you of Gregory VII .,papal unity and schism
,St .
Germain des Pres and St. Jacques de la Boucherie— areH 4
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 1 05
Roman"zone,the Gothic zone, and the zone of the revival,
which we would fain cal l the Greco-Roman . The Romanstratum
,which i s the most ancient and the lowest, i s occu
pied by the circular arch,which again appears, supported
by the Greek column,in the modern and uppermost stratum
(if the revival. The pointed style is between both . Theedifices belonging exclusi vely to one of these three strataare absolute ly distinct, one
,and complete . Such are the
abbey of Jumieges,the cathedral of Rheims, the Holy
Cross at Orleans . But the three zones blend and amal
gamate at their borders, like the colours in the solarspectrum . Hence the complex structures, the transitionedifices . The one is Roman at the foot, Gothic in themiddle
,Grew—Roman at the top . The reason i s that i t
was six centuries in building. This variety is rare ; thecas tle of Etampes is a specimen of it. But the edificescomposed of two formations are frequent. Such is NotreDame at Paris
,a building in the pointed style
,the first
pillars of which belong to the Roman zone, like the porchof St. Denis , and the nave of St. Germain des Pres . Suchtoo i s the charming semi-gothic capitular hall of Bochervill e, exhibiting the Roman stratum up to half i ts height.Such is the cathedral of Rouen, which would be entirelyGothic, were i t not for the extremity of i ts cen tral steeple,which penetrates into the zone of the revival .1‘
For the rest,all these shades
,all these differences
,affec t
only the surface of edifices i t i s but art which has changedits skin . The constitution itself of the Christian church isnot affected by them . There i s always the same internalarrangement, the same logical disposi tion of parts . Be thesculptured and embroidered outside of a cathedral what i tmay, we invariably find underneath at least the germ andrudimen t of the Roman basilica. I t uniformly expandsi tself upon the ground according to the same law . Thereare without deviation two naves
,in tersecting each other in
0 Th is is the same that is likewise ca lled , accord ing to countries , cl imates,M dSpecies , Lombard , Sa x on, and s antm e These four are para lle l and k indredvari eties , each havm its pecul iar character, but a l l d erived from the samepn nclple , the crrcu :1r arch.t It wa s
upre
cisely ( hi s part o f the steeple, wh ich was of wood , that W “de
stroyed by e tire of heaven in 1893.
106 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
the form of a cross,and the upper extremity of which
rounded into an apsis,forms the chancel ; and two ai les for
processions and for chapels,a sort of lateral walking
places, into which the principal nave disgorges i tself by thein tercolumniations . These points being settled
,the number
o f the chapels,porches
,towers
,pinnacles
,is varied to in
finity, according to the caprice of the age, the nation, andr the art. Accommodation for the exercises of religion once
p rovided and secured, architecture does just what i t pleases.As for statues
,painted windows
,mullions
,arabesques, open
work, capitals, basso- relievos— it combines all these devicesagreeably to the sys tem which best suits i tself. Hence theprodigious external variety in those edifices within whichreside such order and unity . The trunk of the tree is unchangeable
,the foliage capri cious.
CHAPTER I I .
B rnn’
s E Y E VIEW OF PARIS.
“7E have just attempted to repair for the reader the ad
mirable church of Notre-Dame at Paris . We have brieflytouched upon most of the beauties which i t had in thefifteenth century
,and which i t no longer possesses ; but
we have omitted the principal, namely the view of Paristhen enj oyed from the top of the towers .I t was in fact when, after groping your way up the dark
spiral staircase with which the thick wall of the towers isperpendicularly perforated, and landing abruptly on one ofthe
'
two lofty platforms deluged with light and air, that adelightful spectacle bursts at once upon the view - a
spectacle su i generis, of which some conception may easilybe formed by such of our readers as have had the good fortune to see one of the few Gothic towns still left entire,complete
,homogeneous
,such as Nuremberg in Bavaria
,
Vittoria in Spain,or even smaller specimens, provided they .
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE- DAME. 107
are in good preservation, as Vi tré in Bretagne, and Nordhausen in Prussia.The Pari s of three hundred and fifty years ago, the
Paris of the fifteenth century,was already a giganti c ci ty.
We modern Parisians in general are much mistaken inregard to the ground which we imagine i t has gained.Since the time of Louis XI . Paris has not increased aboveone third and certes i t has lost much more in beauty thanit has acquired in magnitude.The infant Paris was born
,as every body knows, in that
ancient island in the shape of a cradle, which is now calledthe Ci ty. The banks of that island were its first en closurethe Seine was i ts fi rst ditch . For several centuries Pariswas confined to the island
,having two bridges, the one on
the north,the other on the south, and two tétes- de-ponts ,
which were at once its gate s and i ts fortresses— the GrandChatelet on the right bank and the Peti t Chatelet on theleft. In process of time
,under the kings of the first dy
nasty,finding herself strai tened in her island and unable to
turn herself about,she crossed the water. A first enclosure
of walls and towers then began to encroach upon eitherbank of the Seine beyond the two Chatelets . Of thi sancient enclosure some ves tiges were still remaining in thepast century ; nothing is n ow left of i t bu t the memoryand here and there a tradition . By degrees the flood ofhouse s, always propell ed from the heart to the ex tremities,wore away and overflowed this enclosure . Philip Augustussurrounded Pari s with new rampar ts . He imprisoned thecity wi thin a circular chain of large, lofty, and mass ivetowers. For more than a century the houses
,crowding
closer and closer,raised thei r level in this basin
,like wate r
in a reservoir. They began to grow higher ; s tory waspiled upon story they shot up
,l ike any compressed liquid
,
and each tried to lift i ts head above its neighbour ’s,in
order to obta in a li ttle fresh air. The streets becamedeeper and deeper
,and narrower and narrower : every
vacant place was covered and disappeared. The houses atlength overleaped the wall of Philip Augustu s, and merrilyscattered themselves at random over the plain , like prisouers who had made their escape. There they sat them
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE—DAME . 1 09
and his toryz— the Ci ty, the University, and the Ville.The Ci ty
,which occupied the island, was the mother of
the two others, and cooped up between them, like— reader,forgive the comparison — like a li ttle old woman betweentwo handsome strapping daughters. The Universi ty covered the left bank of the Seine from the Tournelle to theTower of Nesle
,points corresponding the one with the
Halle aux Vins, and the other with the Mint, of modernPari s . Its in closure encroached considerably upon theplain where Julian had built his baths. I t included thehill of St. Genevieve. The highest point of this curve ofwalls was the Papal Gate
,which stood nearly upon the si te
of the present Pantheon. The Ville, the most extensiveof the three divisions, stretched along the right bank. Its
quay ran,wi th several interruptions indeed , along the
Seine,from the Tower of B illy to the Tower du Bois, that
is to say from the spot where the Grenier d ’
Abondance
now stands to that occupied by the Tu ileries . These fourpoints
,at which the Seine intersected the inclosure of the
capital, the Tournelle and the Tower of Nesle on the left,and the Tower of Billy and the Tower du Bois on theright, were called by way of eminence the four towers ofParis. The Ville penetrated still further into the field sthan the Universi ty . The culminating poin t of the inclosure of the Ville was at the gates of St. Denis and St .Martin, the sites of which remain unchanged to this day .
Each of these great divisions of Paris was,as we have
observed, a ci ty, but a city too special to be complete, acity which coul d not do without the two others . Thusthey had three totally differen t aspects . The Ci ty
, pro.
perly so called, abounded in churches ; the Ville containedthe Pal aces ; and the University, the Colleges. Settingaside secondary jurisdi ctions
,we may assume generally
,that
the island was under the bishop,the righ t bank under the
provost of the merchants,the left under the rector of the
University, and the whole under the provost of Paris, aroyal and not a municipal officer. The Ci ty had the ca
thedral of Notre-Dame,the Vill e the Louvre and the
Hétel de Ville,and the Universi ty the Sorbonne. The
Ville contained the Halles,the C ity the H6tel-Dieu, and
1 10 THE HUNCHBACK op NOTRE-DAME.
the University the Pré aux Clercs . For offences committed by the students on the left bank in their Pré auxClercs they were tried at the Palace of Justice in the island
,
and punished on the right bank at Montfaucon unless therector, finding the University strong and the king weak
,
chose to interfere : for i t was a privilege of the scholars tobe hung in their own quarter.Most of these privileges, be i t remarked by the way, and
some of them were more valuable than that just mentioned,
had been extorted from different sovereigns by riots andinsurrections. This is the invariable course — the kingnever grants any boon but what is wrung from him by thepeople.In the fifteenth century that part of the Seine compre
hended within the inclosure of Pari s contained five islandsthe Ile Louviers
,then covered with trees
,and now with
timber,the Ile aux Vaches
,and the Isle Notre-Dame
,
both uninhabited and belonging to the bishop [in the seventeenth century these two islands were converted into one,which has been built upon and i s now called the Isle ofSt. Louis] lastly the Ci ty, and at i ts poin t the islet of thePasseur aux Vaches
,since buried under the platform of the
Pon t Neuf. The city had at that time five bridges threeon the right
,the bridge of None-Dame and the Pont au
Change of s tone, and the Pont aux Meuniers of wood ; twoon the left
,the Peti t Pon t of stone, and the Pont St. Mi
chel of wood ; all of them covered with houses. TheUniversity had six gates
,built by Philip Augustus these
were,setting out from the Tournelle
,the gate of St. Victor ,
the gate of Bordelle,the Papal gate, and the gates of St.
Jacques,St. Mi chel, and St. Germain . The Ville had six
gates,built by Charles V. that is to say, beginning from
the Tower of Billy,the gates of St. Antoine, the Temple,
St. Martin, St. Denis, Montmartre, and St. Honoré . Allthese gates were strong and handsome too, a circumstancewhich does not detract from strength . A wide, deep di tch,supplied by the Seine with water
,which was swollen by
the floods of winter to a running stream, encircled the footof the wall all round Paris. At night the gates were closed,
rm: B UNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 1 1 1
the river was barred at the two extremities of the ci ty bystout iron chains, and Paris slept in quiet.A bird
’
s eye view of these three towns,the C i ty, the
Universi ty,and the Ville, exhibited to the eye an inex tri
cable knot of streets strangely jumbled together. I t wasapparen t
,however
,at first sight that these three fragments
of a city formed but a single body. The spectator perceived immediately two long parallel streets, without breakor interruption
,crossing the three cities
,nearly in a right
line, from one end to the other, from south to north, per
pendicularly to the Seine, incessantly pouring the people ofthe one into the o ther, connecting, blending, them togetherand converting the three into one. The firs t of theses treets ran from the gate of St. Jacques to the gate of St.Martin ; i t was called in the Universi ty the street of St.Jacques
,in the C i ty rue de la Juiverie
,and in the Ville,
the s tree t of St. Martin : i t crossed the river twice by thename of Petit Font and Pon t No tre-Dame. The se cond,named r ue de la Harpe on the left bank, rue de la Barillerie in the island, rue St. Denis on the right bank, PontSt. Michel over one arm of the Seine, and Pont au Changeover the other
,ran from the gate of St. Michel in the Uni
versity to the gate of St. Denis in the Ville. Still, thoughthey bore so many different names
,they formed in reality
only two streets,but the two mothen s treets
,the two great
arteries of Paris. All the other veins of the triple citywere fed by or di scharged themselves into these.Besides these two principal diametrical streets crossingParis breadthwise and common to the entire capital
,the
Ville and the University had each its chief stree t runninglongi tudinally parallel with the Seine
,and in i ts course in
tersecting the two arterial streets at right angles. Thusin the Ville you might go in a direct line from the gate ofSt. Antoine to the gate of St. Honoré and in the Universi ty from the gate of St. Victor to the gate of St. Germain . These two great thoroughfares
,crossed by the two
former, consti tuted the frame upon whi ch re sted the mazyweb of the streets of Paris
,knotted and jumbled together
in every possible way. In the unintelligible plan of thislabyrinth might moreover be distinguished, on closer ex
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTE S-DAME. 1 1 3
churches :’ ti s but the hieroglyphics of the feudal system
succeeding those of theocracy .
The Ci ty,then
,claimed the firs t notice, with its stern to
the east and its head to the west. Turning towards thelatter, you had before you a countless multitude of old roofs,above which rose the widely swelling lead covered cupola
of the Holy Chapel, like the back of an elephan t supporting i ts tower. In this case, indeed, the place ot the towerwas occupied by the lightes t, the boldest, the most elegantsteeple that ever allowed the sky to be seen through i tscone of lace-work. Just in front of Notre-Dame, threestree ts disgorged themselves in to the Parvis, a handsome
square of old houses . On the south side of this square wasthe Hotel-Dieu, with its grim , wrinkled, overhanging front,and i ts roof which seemed to be '
covered with warts andpimples. Then, to the right and to the left, to the eastand to the west, within the narrow compass of the Ci ty,rose the steeples of its twenty- one churches of all dates, ofall forms, of all dimensions, from the low and crazy Romancam panile of St. Denis du Pas to the slender spires ofSt. Pierre aux Boeufs and St. Landry. Behind Notre-Dame,to the north, the cloisters unfolded themselves wi th theirGothic galleries ; to the south the semi-Roman palace o f
the bishop ; to the east the open area called the Terrain .
Amidst this mass of buildings,the eye might still distin
gui sh,by the lofty mitres of stone which crowned the top
most windows,then placed in the roofs even of palaces
themselves,the hotel given by the city in the time of
Charles VI . to Juvenal des Ursina a li ttle further on,the
tarred sheds of the market of Palus beyond that the newchoir of St. Germain le Vieux, lengthened in 1458 at theex pense of one end o f the Rue aux Feves and then
,at
intervals, an open space thronged with people a pilloryerected at the corner of a street a fine piece of the pavement of Philip Augustus
,composed of magnificen t slabs
,
channell ed for the sake of the horses and laid in the middleof the way a vacant back court with one of those transparent staircase turrets which were constructed in the fif.teenth century, and a specimen of which may still be seenin the rue de Bourdonnais . Lastly, on the righ t of the
1
1 14: THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
Holy Chapel, towards the west, the Palace of Justice wasseated
,with its group of towers
,on the bank of the river.
The plantations of the king’s gardens,which covered the
western point of the Ci ty, inte rcepted the view of the isletof the Passeur. As for the water
,i t was scarcely to be seen
at either end of the Ci ty from the towers of Notre ..Dame ;
the Seine being concealed by the bridges,and the bridges
by the houses.When the eye passed these bridges
,whose roofs were
green with moss,the effect not so much of age as of damp
from the water,if i t turned to the left
,towards the Uni
versity, the first building which struck i t was a clump oftowers, the Petit Chatelet, the yawning gateway of whi chswallowed up the end of the Petit Pont : then
,if i t followed
the bank of the river from east to west, from the Tournelleto the Tower of Nesle
,i t perceived a long line of houses
with carved beams projecting,story beyond story
,over the
pavement,an interminable zigzag of tradesmen’
s houses,
frequently broken by the end of a street,and from time to
time also by the front or perhaps the angle of some spaciousstone mansion
,seated at i ts ease
,with its courts and gar
dens,amid this popul ace of narrow, closely crowded dwell
ings,l ike a man of consequence among his dependen ts .
There were five or six of these mansions on the quay, fromthe logis de Lorraine
,which di vided with the Bernardines
the extensive enclosure contiguous to the Tournelle, to thehotel de Nesle, whose principal tower was the boundaryof Paris, and whose pointed roofs for three mon ths of theyear ecl ipsed with their black triangles corresponding portions of the scarlet disk of the setting sun .On this side of the Seine there was much less traffic than
on the other ; the students made more noise and bustlethere than the artisans
,and there was no quay
,properly
speaking, except from the bridge o f St. Mi chel to the
Tower of Nesle. The rest of the bank of the Seine was insome places a naked strand, as beyond the Bernardines inothers a mass of houses standing on the brink of the water,as be tween the two bridges .Great was the din here kept up by the ,
washerwomen
they gabbl ed,shouted, sang, from morning till night, al ong
THE B UNCHBACK OF NOTRE- DAME.
the bank, and soundly beat their linen, much the same as
they do at present. Among the sights of Paris thi s is byno means the dulles t.The University brought the eye to a full stop. From
one end to the other i t was an homogeneous, compact,whole .Those thousand roofs, close, angul ar, adhering together,almost all composed of the same geometrical element, seenfrom above
,presented the -appearance of a crystall isation
of one and the same substance. The capricious ravines ofthe streets did not cut this pie of hous es in to too dispro
portionate slices . The forty- two colleges were di stributedam ong t hem in a sufficiently equal manner. The curiousand varied summits of these beautiful buildings were theproduction of the same art as the simple roofs whi ch theyovertopped in fact
,they were but a multiplication by the
square or the cube of the same geometrical figure. Theydiversified the whole
,therefore
,without confusing it ; they
comfleted without overloading it . Geometry is a harmony.Some superb mansions too made here and there magnificen tinroads among the picturesque garre ts of the lef t bank the
logi s de Nevers , the logis de Rome, the logis de Reims,which have been swept away the hote l de C luny
,which
s till_
subsists for the consolation of the artist, and the towerof which was so stupidly uncrowned some years ago . ThatRoman palace wi th beautiful circular arches, near C luny,was the baths of Julian . There were likewise many abbeys
,
of a more severe beauty than the hotels, but nei ther lesshandsome nor less spacious . Those whi ch firs t struck theeye were the Bernardines with their three steeples ; St.Genevieve
,the square tower of which
,still extan t
,exci tes
such regret for the loss of the rest ; the So rbonne, halfcollege, half monastery, an admirable nave of which sti llsurvives ; the beautiful quadrangular cloister of the Mathurins ; i ts neighbour, the clois ter of St. Benedict ; the
Cordeliers, wi th their three enormous gables, side by side ;and the Augu stines
,the graceful steeple of which made the
second indentation ( the Tower of Nesle being the first)on this side of Paris, se tting ou t from the west. The colleges, which are in fact the intermediate link between thecloister and the world
,formed the mean
,in the series cf
1 2
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 1 17
was to be seen the epitaph of Louis le Gros, and its churchwi th an octagon steeple flanked by four belfries of theeleven th century ;
'
then the bourg St . Marceau which hadalready three churches and a convent ; then , leaving themill of the Gobelins and i ts four white walls on the left,there was the faubourg St. Jacques, with its beauti fulsculptured cross the chur ch of St. Jacques du Haut Pas,a charming pointed Gothic structure ; St.Magloire, a bean.
ti ful nave of the fourteenth century,converted by Napoleon
into a magazine for hay ; Notre-Dame des Champs, containing Byzantine mosaics. Lastly
,after leaving in the
open country the Carthusian convent,a rich structure con
temporary with the Palace of Justi ce, and the ruins ofVauvert, the haunt of dangerous persons, the eye fell , to thewest
,upon the three Roman pinnacles of St. Germain des
Prés . The village of St. Germain, already a large parish,wa s composed of fifteen or twenty streets in the rear thesharp spire of St. Sul pice marked one of the corners of thebourg. Close to i t might be distinguished the quadrangularenclosure of the Fair of St.Germain . the si te of the presentmarket ; next, the pillory of the abbey, a pretty little circular tower well covered with a cone of lead the tile-kilnwas further off
,so were the rue du Four, which led to the
manorial oven, the mill, and the hospital for lepers, a smalldetached building but indistinctly seen . But what particul arly attracted attention and fixed i t for some time onthis point, was the abbey itself. I t i s certain that thi smonastery, which had an air of importance both as a churchand as a lordly residence
,this abbatial palace
,where the
bishops of Paris deemed themselves fortunate to be entertained for a night
,that refectory to which the architect had
given the air, the beauty, and the splendid window of acathedral, that elegant chapel of the Virgin, that noble dormitory, those spacious gardens, that portcullis, that drawbridge, that girdl e of battlements cut out to the eye uponthe greensward of the surrounding fields
,those courts where
men-at- arms glistened among copes of gold — the wholecollected and grouped around three lofty spires with Cir-J
cular arches , firmly seated upon a Gothic choir,formed a
'
magnificent object against the horizon .1 3
1 1 8 THE B UNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
When, at length, after attenti vely surveying the University
, you turn to the right bank, to the Ville, the eha.racter of the scene suddenly changes. The Ville, in fact,much more extensive than the University, was also lesscompact. At the first sight you perceived that i t wascomposed of several masses remarkably distinct. In thefirst place
,to the east, in that part of the town which is
still named after the marsh into which Cae sar was enticedby Camul ogenes, there was a series of palaces” Fournearly contiguous mansions, the hotels of Jouy, Sens, Barbeau
,and the Queen’s house
,mirrored their slated roofs,
diversified with slender turrets, in the waters of the Seine.Those four buildings filled the space between the Rue desNonaindieres and the abbey of the Celestins, the spire ofwhich gracefully relieved their line of gables and battlements . Some greenish walls upon the water
’
s edge,in
front of these buildings,did not prevent the eye from
catching the beautiful angles of their fronts,their large
quadrangular windows with stone frames and transoms,the pointed arches of their porches
,surcharged with sta tues,
and all those charming freaks of archi tecture whi ch give toGothi c art the air of resorting to fresh combinations inevery building. In the rear of these palaces ran, in al l
directions,sometimes pali saded and embattled like a castle,
sometimes embowered in great trees like a Carthusian convent
,the immense and multiform enclosure of that mar
vellons hotel of St. Pol, where the king of France hadsuperb accommodation for twenty- two princes equal inrank to the dauphin and the duke of Burgundy
,with their
attendants and retinues,without reckoning distinguished
nobles, or the emperor when he visited Paris, or the lionswhich had their hotel apart from the royal habitation . Be
i t here remarked that the apartments of a prince in thosedays consisted of not fewer than eleven rooms
,from the
hall of parade to the oratory, exclusively of gall eries, andbaths, and stoves, and other superfluous places
” attachedto each set of apartmen ts ; to say nothing of the privategardens of each of the king
’
s guests ; of the kitchens,the
cellars, the servants'
rooms, the general refectories of thehousehold of the offices where there were twenty-two ge
TH E HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 1 19
neral laboratories, from the bakehouse to the wine- cellarof places appropriated to games of every sort, the mal l,tennis
,the ring of aviaries, fish- ponds, menageries,
s tables,libraries
,arsenals
,foundries. Such was then the
palace of a king,3. Louvre, an hote l St. Pol. I t was a city
within a city.From the tower where we have taken our station
,the
hotel St. Pol,though almost half concealed by the four
great buildings above-mentioned, was still a right goodlysight. The three hotels which Charles V. had incorporatedwith his palace, though skilfully united to the principalbuilding by long galleries with windows and small pillars
,
might be perfectly distinguished. These were the hotel ofthe Peti t Muce
,with the light balustrade which graceful ly
bordered its roof ; the hotel of the abbot of St. Maur, having the appearance of a castle, a strong tower, portcullises,loopholes
,bastions, and over the large Saxon doorway the
escutcheon of the abbot the hotel of the Count d ’
E tampe s,
the keep of which,in ruin at the top, appeared jagged to
the eye like the comb of a cock clumps of old oaks hereand there forming tufts like enormous cauliflowers swansdisporting in the clear water of the fish-ponds, all s treakedwi th light and shade ; the dwelling of the lions with itslow pointed arches supported by short Saxon pillars, i tsiron grating
,and its perpetual bellowing ; beyond all these
the scal y spire of the Ave Maria ; on the left the residence of the provost of Paris
,flanked by four turrets of
deli ca te workmanship ; at the bottom, in the centre, thehotel St. Pol, properly so called, with its numerous facades,i ts successive embell ishments from the time of Charles V.
,
the hybrid excrescences with which the whims of architectshad loaded i t in the course of two centuries
,with all the
apsides of i ts chapels,all the gables of i ts galleries
,a thou
sand weathercocks marking the four winds,and its two
lofty contiguous towers,whose conical roofs, surrounded at
their base wi th battlements,looked l ike sharp-pointed hats
with the brims turned up .
Continuing to ascend that amphitheatre of palaces spreadout far over the ground
,after crossing a deep ravine part.
ing the roofs of the Vill e, the eye arrived at the logis d’
An
1 4
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 121
idea,filled the angle which the wall of Charles V. formed
wi th the Seine to the east. The centre of the Ville wasoccupied by a heap of houses of the inferior class . Herein fact the three bridges of the city disgorged themselveson the right bank, and bridges make houses before palaces.This accumulation of dwellings of tradesmen and artisans
,
j ammed together like cells in a hive,had its beauty. There
is something grand in the houses of a capital as in the
waves of the sea. In the first place the streets,crossing
and entwining, formed a hundred amusing figures ; the
environs of the Halles looked like a star with a thousandrays. The streets of St . Denis and St. Martin
,with their
numberless ramifications,ran up one beside the other like
two thi ck trees interm ingling their branches and then thestreets of la Platerie, la Verrerie, and la Tix eranderie,wound over the whole. There were some handsome buildings that overtopped the petrified undulation of this sea ofroofs . At t he head of the Pont aux Changeurs, behindwhich the Seine was seen foaming under the wheels of thePont aux Meuniers
,there was the Chatelet
,no longer a
Roman castle as in the time of Julian the Apostate,but a
feudal castle of the thirteenth century, and of stone so hardthat in three hours the pickaxe could not chip off a piecela rger than your fist. There too was the rich square towerof St. Jacques de la Boucherie, with its angles all bluntedby sculptures
,and already an object of admiration, though
i t was not finished till the fifteenth century. I t had no tthen those four monsters which
,perched to this day at the
corners of the roof,look like four sphynxes
, gi ving to
modern Paris the enigma of the ancient to unravel. Theywere not erected till the year 1 526 by Rault
,the sculptor,
who had twenty francs for his labour .— There was theMaison aux Piliers, of which we have conveyed some ideato the reader ; there was St. Gervais, since spoiled by a.
porch in a good ta s te there was St. Mery, whose oldpointed arches were little less than circular there was St.Jean, the magnificent spire of which was proverbial ; therewere twenty other buildings which did not di sdain to burytheir marvels in this chaos of deep , black, narrow streets.Add to these the sculptured stone crosses
,more numerous
122 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
even than the gibbets,the burying-ground of the Innocents
,
the architectural enclosure of which was to be seen at adi stance above the roofs the pillory of the Halles, the topof which was perceptible between two chimneys of the R uede la Cos senerie the ladder of the Croix du Trahoir, ini ts crossing always black with people the circular walls ofthe Halle au B lé the remains of the ancient enclosure ofPhi lip Augustus
,to be distinguished here and there
,
drowned by the houses,towers overgrown with ivy
,gate s
in ruins, crumbling and shapeless fragments of wall s thequay
,with its thousand shops and its bloody slaughter
houses ; the Seine covered with craft, from the Port an Fointo the For-L
’
Evéque, and you will have a faint image ofthe central trapezium of the Ville as i t was in 1 482 .
Besides these two quarters, the one of palaces,the other
of houses, the Ville'
presented a third feature, - a longzone of abbeys, which bordered almost i ts whole circumference from west to east, and formed a second enclosureof convents and chapels within that of the fortificationswhi ch encompassed Paris. Thus
,immediately adj oining
to the park of Tournelles, between the street St. Antoineand the old street of the Temple, there was St. Catherine
’
s,with its immense extent of gardens and cultivated grounds,which were bordered only by the wall of Paris. Betweenthe old and the new street of the Temple there was theTemple
,a grim tall cluster of gloomy towers, standing in
the centre of a vast embattled enclosure. Between thenew street of the Temple and the street St. Martin was theabbey of St. Martin, amidst i ts gardens a superb fortifiedchurch, whose girdle of towers and tiara of steeples weresurpassed in strength and splendour by St. Germain desPrés alone. Between the streets of St. Martin and St.Denis was the enclosure of the Trinity ; and lastly, betweenthe streets of St. Denis and Montorgueil, the Filles Dieu .
Beside the latter were to be seen the tumbling roofs andthe unpaved area of the Cour des Miracles. I t was the onlyprofane link that intruded i tself into this chain of convents.The fourth and last compartment, which was sufficien tly
obvious of i tself in the agglomeration of buildings on
the right bank whi ch occupied the western angle of the
THE HL'NCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 123
enclosure and covered the margin of the river, was a newknot of palaces and mansions that had sprung up at thefoo t of the Louvre . The old Louvre of Philip Augustus,that immense building
,whose great tower rallied around
i t twenty- three other towers,without reckoning turrets,
appeared at a distance to be enchased in the Gothic summits of the hotel of Alencon and of the Petit Bourbon.That hydra of towers
,the giant guardian of Paris, wi th its
twenty- four heads ever erect,with its monstrous ridges,
cased in lead or sealed with slate,and glistening all over
with the reflection of metals,te rminated in a striking man
ner the configuration of the Vil le to the west.Thus
,an immense is land as the Romans term ed i t, of
common houses,flanked on the right and left by clusters
of palaces, crowned, the one by the Louvre, the other bythe Tournelles
,begirt on the north by a long belt of abbeys
and cultivated enclosures,thewhole blended and amalgamated
to the eye ; above these thousands of buildings, whose til edand slated roofs formed so many strange chains, the tattooed,figured
,carved steeples and spires of the forty- four churche s
of the right bank myriads of streets running in all directions, bounded on the one hand by a high wall wi th squaretowers ( the wall of the University had circular towers)on the other by the Seine intersected by bridges and studded with craft— such was the Ville in the fifteenth century.Beyond the walls, there were suburbs crowding about
the gates, but the houses composing them were less numerousand more scattered than in those belonging to the Uni.versity. In the rear of the Basti lle there were a score ofhuts grouped about the Cross of Faubin, with i ts curioussculptures, and the abbey of St. Antoine des Champs, withi ts flying buttresses ; then Popincourt, lost in the cornfields ; then la Courtille, a jovial hamlet of pot-houses ;the bourg St. Laurent
,with i ts church
,whose steeple
seemed at a di stance to belong to the gate of St. Martin,wi th i ts poin ted towers the faubourg St. Denis, wi th thevas t enclosure of St. Ladre ; beyond the gate of Mont.martre, la Grange Bateliere, belted wi th whi te wall sbehind it, with its chalky decli vities, Montmartre, whichhad then almost as many churches as windmills , but ha
THE B UNCHB ACK or NOI’RE-DAME. 1 25
production of the middle ages, a chronicle of stone. I twas a city formed of two strata only, the bastard Romanand the Gothic , for the pure Roman had long beforedisappeared, excepting at the Baths of Julian
,where i t
still peered above the thick crust of the middle ages . Asfor the Celti c s tratum
,no specimens of that were now to
be found even in digging wells .Fifty years later
,when the regeneration came to blend
with this unity so severe and yet so diversified the dazzlingluxury of its fantasies and its systems, i ts extravaganciesof Roman arches
,Greek columns and Gothic ellipses
,i ts
sculpture so delicate and so ideal,i ts parti cular style ! of
arabesques and acanthi, i ts architectural paganism contem
poraneou s with Luther, Paris was perhaps still more beautiful
,though less harmonious to the eye and the mind .
But this splendid momen t was of short duration theregeneration was not impartial ; i t was not content withbuilding up, i t wanted to throw down : i t i s true enoughthat i t needed room . Thus Gothic Paris was complete butfor a minute. Scarcely was St. Jacques de la Boucheriefinished when the demoli tion of the old Louvre was begun .
,
Since that time the great city has been daily increasingin deformity . The Gothic Paris
,which swept away the
bastard Roman, has been in i ts turn swept away but canany one tell what Paris has succeeded i t ?
There is the Pari s of Catherine de Medici at the Tuileries , the Paris of Henry I I . at the Hotel de Ville twoedifices still in a grand style the Paris of Henry IV. atthe Place Royale— fronts of bri ck with stone quoins
,and
slated roofs— tricoloured hous es the Paris of Louis XII I .at Val de Grace— a squat
,clumsy style
,something paunch
bellied in the column and hun ch-ba cked in the dome theParis of Louis XIV. at the Invalides, grand, rich , gilded,and cold the Paris of Louis XV. at St . Sulpice— volutes
,
knots of ribands,clouds
,vermicellies, chicories, and the
Lord knows what,all in stone the Paris of Louis XVI .
at the Pa ntheon — a wretched copy of St. Peter’s at Rome ;the Pari s of the Republic
,at the School of Medicine — a
poor Greek and Roman style,resembling the Coliseum or
the Parthenon as the constitution of the year 3 does the
126 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
l aws of Minos— it i s called in archi te cture, the M essidor
s tyle the Pari s of Napoleon,at the Place Vendome— this
i s sublime— a column of bronze made of cannon ; theParis of the Restoration , at the Exchange — a very whitecolonnade supporting a very smooth frieze ; the whole i ssquare and cost twenty millions .With each of these characteristi c structures a certain
number of houses scattered over the different quarters rangethemselves by a similarity of style, fashion , and attitude :these are easily distinguished by the eye of the connoisseur.Possess ing this tact, you discover the spirit of an age andthe physiognomy of a king even in the knocker of a door.The Paris of the present day has no general physiognomy.
I t i s a collection of specimens of various ages, the finest ofwhich have disappeared. The capital increases only inhou ses, and what houses At the rate that Paris i s nowgoing on, i t will be renewed every fifty years. Thus thehistorical signification of i ts architecture is daily be comingob literated. The monuments of past times are becomingmore and more rare
,and you fancy you see them engulphed
one after another in the deluge of houses . Our fathershad a Paris of s tone ; our children will have a Paris of
plaster.As for the modern structures of new Paris we wouldrather abstain from any mention of them . Not but thatwe admire them quite as much as is fitting. M. Soufflot’sSt. Genevieve is certainly the most beautiful Savoy cakethat ever was made in stone. The Palace of the Legionof Honour is also a most remarkable piece of pastry. Thedome of the Halle au Bl é i s an English jockey- cap on alarge scale . The towers of St. Sulp ice are two big clarinets ,and that is a shape as well as any other : the telegraph
,
wri thing and grinning, forms a charming accession upontheir roof. St. Roch has a porch comparable for magnijficence to that of St. Thomas Aquinas alone. I t has alsoa Calvary in alto- relievo in a cellar
,and a sun of gilt wood .
These are absolutely wonderful things . The lantern inthe labyrin th of the Jardin des Plantes i s al so a most in
genious work. As for the Exchange, which i s Greek inits colonnade
,Roman in the circular arches of i ts doors
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAH E . 127
and windows, and belongs to the regenerated style in itsgreat ellipti c vaul t — it is indubitably a most pure and
classi c structure ; in proof of which i t is crowned by anatti c
,such as was never seen at Athens— a beautiful straight
line, gracefully broken here and there by stove- pipes. Addto this that if i t i s a rule that the archi tecture of an edificeshould be adapted to its destination in such a manner thatthis destination may be obvious on a mere inspection ofthe building
,we cannot too highly admire a s tructu re whi ch
is equally suitable for a king'
s palace, a house of commons,a town- hall, a college, a riding-house, an academy, awarehouse
,a court of justice, a museum,
a barrack,a
sepulchre,a temple
,a theatre . And after all i t is an Ex
change. A building ought moreover to be adapted to theclimate. This is evidently designed expressly for our coldand rainy atmosphere. I t has a roof nearly flat as in theEast
,so that in win ter, after snow, i t i s necessary to
sweep the roof, and i t is most certain that a roof is intended to be swept. As for that destination to whi ch wejust adverted
,i t fulfils i t marvellously well : in France i t
is an Exchange,in Greece i t would have been a temple.
These are no doubt most splendid structures . Add tothem a great many handsome streets, amusing and dive rs ified as the Rue de Ri voli
,and I despair not that Paris ,
vi ewed from a balloon,may some day presen t to the eye
that ri chness of lines, that luxury of details, that diversityof aspects, a ce rtain combination of the grand wi th thesimple
,of the beautiful with the unexpected, which cha
racte rises a draught-board.Admirable
,however
,as the Paris of the present day
appears to you,build up and put together again in ima
gination the Paris of the fifteenth century ; look at thel ight through that surprising host of s teeples
,towers
, and
bel fries“; pour forth amidst the immense city, break agains tthe points of i ts islands
,compress within the arches of the
bridges, the current of the Seine, with its large patches ofgreen and yellow
,more changeable than a serpent’s skin
define clearly the Gothi c profile of thi s old Paris upon anhori zon of azure
,make its contour float in a wintry fog
whi ch clings to i ts innumerable chimneys ; drown it in
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 429
directions, make th ree or four luminous zigzags, and vanishl ike lightning. Down yonder, the abbey of St. Martinsends forth its harsh, sharp tones ; here the Bastill e raisesi ts sinister and husky voi ce ; at the other extremity, i t isthe great tower of the Louvre, with its counter- tenor. Theroyal chimes of the palace throw ou t incessantl y on all
sides resplendent trills , upon which falls, at measuredinterval s, the heavy toll from the belfry of Notre-Dame
,
which makes them sparkle like the anvil under the hammer.From time to time you see tones of all shapes, proceedingfrom the triple peal of St . Germain des Prés passing before you. Then again
,at intervals
,this mass of sublime
sounds Opens and makes way for the s trette of the AveMaria
,which glistens like an aigrette of stars . Beneath
,
in the deepest part of the concert,you distinguish con
fusedly the singing within the churches, which transpiresth rough the vibrating pores of thei r vaul ts . Verily thi s i san opera which is well worth listening to . In an ordinaryway
,the noise issuing from Paris in the day- time is the
talking of the city at night i t i s the breathing of the cityin this case i t is the singing of the city . Lend you r earthen to this tutti of steeples diffuse over the whole thebuzz o f half a million of human beings, the eternal mmur of the river
,the infinite piping of the wind
,the grave
and distant quartet of the four forests placed like immenseorgans on the four hills of the horizon ; soften down, aswi th a demi- tin t, all that i s too shrill and too harsh inthe central mass of sound — and say if you know anything in the world more rich
,more gladdening
,more
dazzling,than that , tumult of bell s ; than that furnace
of music ; than those ten thousand brazen tones breathedal l at once from flutes of stone three hundred feet high ;than that ci ty which is but one orchestra ; than thatsymphony rushing and roaring like a tempes t.
END 6? THE FIRST VOLUME .
1 30 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
vonUM E TH E SECOND.
BOOK IV.
CHAPTER I.
THE FOUNDLIN G.
SIX TE EN years before the period of the events recorded inthis history
,one fine morning — it happened to be Quasi
modo Sunday a living creature was laid after mass inthe church of Notre-Dame in the wooden bed walled intothe porch on the left hand, Opposite to that great image ofSt. Christopher which faced the kneeling figure sculpturedin stone of Antoine des Essarts, knight, till 1 41 3, whenboth saint and sinner were thrown down . On this woodenbed i t was customary to expose foundlings to the publi cchari ty. Any one took them who felt so disposed. Be
fore the wooden bed was a copper basin to receive the almsof the charitable.The living creature which lay upon thi s hard couch on
the morning of Quasimodo Sunday, in the year Of ourLord 1 467, appeared to excite a high degree of curiosityin the considerable concourse Of persons who had collectedaround it. They consisted chiefly of the fair sex, beingalmost all of them old women .In the front row
,nearest to the bed, were four whom
from their grey cass ock you would judge to belong to somereligious sisterhood. I see no reason why history shouldnot transmit to posterity the names of these four di scree tand venerable matrons. They were Agnes 1a Herm e,Jehanne de la Tarme, Henriette la Gaul tiere, and Gauchere la Violette
,all four widows, and sisters of the chapel
of E tienne Haudry, who had left their house with the
THE nus cnna ox ore NOTRE-DAME . 1 3 1
permission of their superior, and agreeably to the statute s ofPierre d’Ailly, for the purpose of attending divine service.If
,however, these good creatures were Observing the
statu tes of Pierre d Ailly, they were certainly violating at
the moment those of Mi chel de Brache and the Cardinal ofPisa
,which most inhumanly imposed upon them the law
of silence.What is that, sister said Agnes to Gauchere, look
ing intently at the l ittle creature,yelping and writhing on
the wooden couch, and terrified at the number of s trangefaces.What will the world come to
,said Jehanne,
that i s the way they make children now-a-days .P
I don'
t pretend to know much about children, re
j oined Agnes, but i t must be a sin to look at that thing.”’T is not a child, Agnes
’
t is a mis- shapen ape,"oh
served Gauchére .
’
T is a miracle !”ejaculated La Gault i ero.
Then,” remarked Agnes, this is the third since Lae
tare Sunday, for i t is not a week since we had the miracleof the scofi
’
er Of the pilgnms punished by our Lady of
Aubervilliers, and that was the second miracle of themonth .
"
This foundl ing, as they call i t, is a real monster ofabomination
,
” resumed JchanneHe bellows loud enough to deafen a chante r, con
tinued Gauchére.
And to pretend that Monsieur de Reims coul d sendthis fright to Monsieur de Paris added La Gaul tiere,clasping her hands .I cannot help thinking, said Agnes la Herme, that
it is some bru te,something between a Jew and a beast
something in short that is not Christi an, and ought to bedrowned or burned.I do hope,
"resumed La Gaultiere, that nobody willapply for i t.
”
Good God ! exclaimed Agnes, how I pity the poornurses at the foundling hospital in the lane yonder goingdown to the river
,close by the archbishop
’
8,if this li ttle
1: 2
m s B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 1 33
the Obj ect found apparently on the bank of the Phlegetou .
He seems to have but one eye,observed Damoiselle
Guill emette and there is a great wart over the other.”'T is no wart
,
” replied Master Robert M istricolle,but an egg
,which contains another demon exactly like
this,with another li ttle egg
,containing a third devil
,and
so on .
La ! how know you that ? ” asked Guillemette.I know i t pertinently,
"replied the prothonotary.Mr. Prothonotary,
"enquired Gauchere, what pro
phesy you from this kind of foundling ?”
The greatest calami ti es,” replied Mis tricoll e.
Gracious Heaven exclaimed an old woman whos tood by, no wonder we had such a pe stilence last year
,
and that the English, i t is said, are going to land in forceat Harefleu !
Perhaps that may not prevent the queen from comingto Paris in September,
"rej oined another trade is very
flat already.I am of Opinion, cried Jehanne de la Tarme, that
it would be better for the people of Pari s,if that little sor
cerer were lying upon a faggot than upon a plank .
”
Ay— a bonny blazing one 1” added the old dame.
That might be more prudent,
” Observed M istricoll e.
For some moments,a young priest had been l istening to
the comments of the women and the prothonotary. He wasa man o f an austere countenance
,with an ample brow and
piercing eye. Pushing aside the crowd without speaking,he examined the li ttle sorcerer
,
” and extended his handover him . I t was high time, for all the pious by- standerswere agog for the bonny blazing faggot.
”
I adopt this child,
” said the priest.He wrapped him in his cassock and carried him away .
The by- standers looked after him with horror, till he hadpas sed the Porte-Rouge which then led from the church tothe cloisters, and was out Of sight.When they had recovered from their first astonishment,
Jehanne de la Tarme,s tooping till her lips were near the
K 3
1 341 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
ear of La Gaul tiere, Sister, whispered she, did I nottell you that you young clerk, Monsieur Claude Frollo, i s asorcerer ? ”
CHAPTER I I .
CLAUDE FROLLO.
CLAUDE FROLLO was, in fact, no ordinary personage. Hebelonged to one Of those families who, in the imper tinentlanguage of the last century, were called indi scriminatelyhau te bourgeois ie or p etite noblesse. This family had inherited from the Paclets the fief of Tirechappe, which washeld under the Bishop of Paris, and the twen ty- one houses ofwhich had been in the thirteenth century the subject of somany plead ings before the official. Claude Frollo
,as pos
sessor of thi s fief, was one of the one hundred and forty-oneseigneurs
,who claimed manorial rights in Paris and its
suburbs ; and as such his name was long to be seen re
gistered between the HOtel de Tancarville, belonging to :
Master Francois de Rez, and the College~de Tours
,in
the cartulary preserved in the church of St. Martin-desChamps.Claude Frollo had from his childhood been destined by
his parents for the church. He was taught to read Latin,
to cast down his eyes,and to speak low. While quite a
boy, his father had placed him in the College of Torchi inthe University and there he had grown up on the missaland the lexicon.For the rest, he was a dul l, grave, serious boy, who stu
died assiduously,and learned qui ckly. He made but little
noise in his recreations, had mingled but li ttle in the bacchanals of the Rue du Fouarre, and had not cut a figure inthat mutiny of the year 1463, which the chroniclers havegravely recorded under the title of Sixth Disturbance ofthe University.” He had scarcely ever been known to rallythe poor scholars of Montaigu for the little hoods, after
THE HUNCHBACK or Nora nm amn. 1 35
which they were nicknamed (Capette s), or the bursars Ofthe College of Dormans for their shaven crowns and theirtricoloured frock of grey, blue, and purple cloth az u
rim'
calorie et brum'
, as sai th the'
charter Of the Cardinal(les Quatres-Couronnes.On the other hand
,he was assiduous in hi s attendance on
the upper and lower schools of the Rue St. Jean de Beau.
vais. The first scholar whom the Abbé of St. Pierre de Val,
at the moment of commencing his lecture on the canonlaw, perceived invariably stationed Opposite to his chair bya pillar of the school of St. Vendregesile, was C laudeFrollo, provided with his ink-horn, chewing his pen, seribbling upon his knee, and in win ter blowing his fingers.The firs t auditor whom Messire Miles d ’
l sl iers, doctor indi vinity, saw entering every Monday morning, quite ou t
Of breath, on the Opening Of the door Of the school of ChefSt. Denis
,was Claude Frollo. Accordingly
,at the age of
sixteen the young clerk might have posed a father of thechurch in mysti c theology, a father of the council incanonical theology
,and a doctor of the Sorbonne in scho
lasti c theology.Having passed through theology
,he had fallen upon the
capitularies of Charlemagne,and
,with his keen appeti te
for knowledge,had devoured decretals after decretals
,those
Of Theodore Bishop of Hispala, of Bouchard Bishop of
W orms, of Yves Bishop of Chartres ; then the decree ofGratian, which succeeded the capitularies of Charlemagne ;then the collection of Gregory IX. then Honorius theThird
’
s epistle Super Specula till he made himself perfectly familiar wi th that long and tumultuous period, inwhich the canon law and the civil law were struggling andlabouring amidst the chaos of the middle ages a periodOpening with Theodore in 6 1 8, and closing with PopeGregory in 1 227.
Having despatched the decretals, he proceeded to medioine and the liberal arts . He studied the science of
herbs and the science o f unguents he became skilful inthe cure of fevers and of contusions, of wounds and Of imposthumes. He was qualified alike to practi se in medicineand in chirurgery. He passed through all the degrees of
x 4
rm : HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME . 1 37
from the sky into his arms, made a new man of him . Heperceived that there was something in the world besides thespeculations of the Sorbonne and the verses of Homer ;that human beings have need of affections that li fe withou t love is but a dry wheel, creaking and grating as i trevolves. He fancied
,i t is true
,for he was at an age
when one illusion only gives place to another, that thefamily affections
,the ties of blood
,were alone needful for
him,and that the love of his little brother was sufficient to
fil l his heart for his whole life.He gave himself up therefore to the love of his li ttle
Jehan with the passion of a character already ardent, energetic
,and concentrate d. This poor
,frail
,fair, deli cate
creature,thi s orphan without any protector but an orphan,
moved him to the bottom of his soul ; and, grave thinkeras he was
, he began to muse upon Jehan with feelings ofinfinite compassion . He bestowed on him all possible careand attention
,just as if he had been something exceed ingly
fragile and exceedingly valuable. He was more than abrother to the infant : he became a mother to him .
Little Jehan was still at the breast when he lost hismother : Claude put him out to nurse . Besides the fief ofTirechappe he had inherited from his father a mill si tuatedon a hill near the castle of lVinches ter
,since corrupted to
Bi cetre . The miller’s wife was just suckling a fine boy ;i t was not far from the Universi ty
,and Claude ca rried
li ttle Jehan to her himself.Thenceforward the thought of his little brother became
not only a recreation but even the Object of his studies .He resolved to devote himself entirely to the care of him,
and never to have any other wife,or any other child, but
the happiness and prosperity of his brother. He attachedhimself therefore more strongly than ever to his cleri calvocation . His meri t, his learning, his condition of immediate vassal of the Bishop Of Paris, threw the doors Of thechurch wide open to him . At the age of twenty, by aspecial dispensation of the holy see
,he was a priest, and
as the youngest of the chaplains of Notre-Dame b e performed the service of the altar cal led, on accoun t of thelatenes s of' the mass said there
,al tare p igrorum.
1 38 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
There, m ore than ever absorbed by his beloved books,which he never qui tted but to run for an hour to the mill
,
this mixture of learning and austeri ty, so uncommon at hisage
,quickly gained him the admiration and the respect of
the convent. From the cloister his reputation for learningSpread among the people , and among some of them it evenprocured him the character Of a sorcerer a frequen t circumstance in that superstitious age.I t was at the moment when he was returning
, on Quasimodo Sunday, from saying mass at the altar Of thelazy
,
” which stood by the door of the choir on the right,
near the image Of the Blessed Virgin, that hi s atten tion wasattracted by the group of Old women cackling around thebed Of the foundlings . He approached the unfortunateli ttle creature, so hated and so threatened. I ts distress
,its
deformity,i ts destitution
,the thought of his young brother,
the idea which suddenly flashed across his mind, that if heW ere to die his poor little Jehan too might perhaps bemercilessly thrown upon the same spot, assailed his heartall at once : i t melted with pity, and he carried away thebolic en he had taken the child out of the sack, he foundhim to be
,in fact
,a monster of deformity . The poor li ttle
wretch had a prodigious wart over his left eye,his head
was close to his shoulders, his back arched, his breast-boneprotruded, and his legs were twisted but he appearedlively
,and though i t was impossible to tell what language
he attempted to speak,his cry indicated a tolerable degree
of strength and health . This extreme ugliness only servedto increase the compassion of C laude ; and he vowed in hisheart to bring up this boy for the love Of his brother, that,whatever might be in the time to come the faults of littleJehan, he might have the benefi t of this chari ty done inhis behalf. I t was a humane act, placed, as i t were, to theaccount of his brother
,one of the little stock of good works
which he determined to lay up for him beforehand,in case
the young rogue should some day run short of that kind ofcoin
,the only one taken at the toll- gate of Paradise.
He baptized his adopted child and named him Quasimodo
,either to commemorate the day on which he had
ru n B UNCH BAOK OF NOTRE-DAME. 1 39
found him,or to express the incomplete and scarcely
finished sta te of the poor li ttle creature. In truth . Quasimodo
,wi th one eye
,hunchback
,and crooked legs, was but
an apology for a human being.
CHAPTER I I I .
THE BELL-RINGER OF NOTRE-DAME .
Now,by the year 1 482, Quasimodo had grown up . He
had been for several years bell-ringer to the cathedral ofNotre-Dame
,thanks to his foster- father
,Claude Frollo
,
who had become archdeacon of Josas,thanks to his dio
cesan,Messire Louis de Beaumont
,who had been appoin ted
Bishop Of Paris in 1472, thanks to his patron Oli vier loDaim
,barber to Louis XL, by the grace of God, King,
&c. &c. &c.
In process of time,the strongest attachment took place
between the bell- ringer and the church . Cut Off for everfrom society by the double fatali ty of his unknown parent.age and his mis- shapen nature
,imprisoned from childhood
within these impassable boundaries,the unhappy wretch
was accustomed to see no object in the world beyond thereligious wal ls which had taken him under their protection .
Notre-Dame had been su ccess i vely,to him
,as he grew up
and expanded,his egg, his nest, his home, his country, the
un1verse.A sort of mysterious and pre-existent harmony had grownup between this creature and the edifice. While, still quitea child, he crawled about, twisting and hopping in theshade of i ts arches
,he appeared
,with his human face and
his limbs scarcely human,the nati ve reptile of that dark
damp pavement, among the grotesque shadows thrown downupon it by the capitals Of the Roman pillars.As he grew up
,the first time that he mechani cally grasped
the rope in the tower, and, hanging to i t, set the bell in
'rnn HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 141
the unhappy foundling. Having become ringer of the bells
of None-Dame at the age of fourteen, a fresh infirmity hadcome upon him : the volume of sound had broken the drumo f his ear, and deafness was the consequence. Thus theonly gate whi ch Nature had left wide Open between himand the world was suddenly closed, and for ever. In closing,it shut out the only ray of light and j oy that stil l reachedhis soul
,which was now wrapped in profound darkness .
The melancholy of the poor fellow became incurable and
complete as his deformity . His deafness rendered him insome measure dumb also : for
,the moment he lost his
hearing,be resolved to avoid the ridicul e Of others by a
silence which he never broke but when he was alone. Hevoluntarily tied up that tongue, which Claude Frollo hadtaken such pains .to loosen : hence, when necessity forcedhim to speak, his tongue was benumbed, awkward , andl ike a door the hinges of which have grown rusty.If then we were to attempt to penetrate through this
thick and obdurate bark to the soul Of Quasimodo if wecould sound the depths of this bungling piece Of organisation if we were enabled to hold a torch behind theseuntransparent organs
,to explore the gloomy interior of this
Opaque being, to illumine its Obscure corners and its unmeaning cul-de- sacs
,and to throw all at once a brilliant
light upon the spiri t enchained at the bottom of this den ;we shoul d doubtless find the wretch in some miserable attitude
,stunted and rickety, like the prisoners under the
leads Of Venice, who gr ow old, doubled up in a box Ofs tone
,too low to s tand up and too short to lie down in .
I t i s certain that the spiri t pines in a mis- shapen form .
Quasimodo scarcely felt within him the blind movementsof a soul made in his own image. The impressions of oh
jects underwent a considerable refraction before they reachedthe seat o f thought. His brain was a peculiar medium :
the ideas whi ch entered it came out quite twisted. The
reflection resulting from this refraction was necessarily divergent and devious . Hence a thousand optical illusions ,a thousand aberrations of judgment
,a thousand by-ways
into which his sometimes sill y,sometimes crazy
,imagin
ation would wander.
142 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
The first effect of this vi cious organisation was to con
fuse the view which he took of things . He received scarcelya single direct perception . The exterior world appeared tohim at a greater distance than it does to us . The secondresu lt Of his misfortune was that i t rendered him mis
chievous . He was, in truth, mischievous because he wassavage he was savage because he was ugly. There waslogi c in his nature, as there is in ours . His strength
,de
velOped in a most extraordinary manner, was another causeOf his propensity to mischief. Jll a lus puer robustus
,says
Hobbes. We must nevertheless do him justi ce : malicewasprobably not innate in him . From his earliest intercoursewith men he had felt, and afterwards he had seen, himselfdespised
,rejected
,cast of . Human speech had never been
to him aught b ut a jeer or a curse. As he grew up, he
had found nothing but hatred about him . He had adoptedi t. He had a cquired the general mal ignity. He had pickedup the weapon with which he had been wounded.After all
,he turned towards mankind with reluctance
his cathedral was enough for him . I t was peopled wi thfigures Of marble
,wi th kings, saints, bishops, who at least
did not laugh in his face, and looked .upon him only withan air Of tranquillity and benevolence. The other statues,those of monsters and demons
,bore no malice against him .
They were too like him for that. Thei r rail lery was ratherdirected against other men . The saints were hi s friends,and blessed him ; the monsters were his friends, and
'
guarded
him he would therefore pass whole hours crouched beforeone of these statues
,and holding soli tary converse with i t.
I f any one came by,he would run off like a lover surprised
in a serenade.m The cathedral was not
.Only his society but his worldin short
, all nature to him . He thought of no othertrees than the painted windows, which were always inblossom of no other shades than the foliage Of stoneadorned wi th birds in the Saxon capitals of no othermountains than the colossal towers of the chur ch ; of no
Other ocean than Paris which roared at their feet.But that which he loved most Of all in the maternal
edifice, that which awakened his soul and caused it to
'rne nus cu na cic OF NOTRE-DAME. 143
spread its poor wings that Otherwise remained so miserablyfolded up in its prison
,that which even conferred at times
a feeling of happiness, was the bells . He loved them, hecaressed them
,he talked to them
,he unders tood them,
from the chimes in the steeple of the transept to the greatbell above the porch . The belfry Of the transept and thetwo towers were like three immense cages
,in which the
birds that he had reared sang for him al one. I t was thesesame birds
,however, which had deafened him but mothers
are Often fondest of the child whi ch has caused them thegreatest pain . It is true that theirs were the only voiceshe could still hear. On this account the great bell was hisbest beloved . He preferred her before all the other sisters ofthis noisy family
,who fluttered about him on festival days ,
This great bell he called Mary. She was placed in thesouthern tower, along with her sister Jacqueline, a hell ofinferior si ze, enclosed in a cage of less magnitude by theside of her own. This Jacqueline was thus named afterthe wife o f Jehan Montague
,who gave her to the church
a gift which,however
,did not prevent hi s figuring without
his head at Montfaucon . In the second tower were sixother bells and, las tly, the six smallest dwelt in the steepleof the transept, with the wooden bell, which was onlyrung between noon on Holy Thursday and the morning OfEaster Eve. Thus Quasimodo had fifteen bell es in hisseraglio, but big Mary was his favourite.I t is impossible to form a conception of his j oy on the
days of the great peals. The instant the archdeacon lethim off
, and said Go,he ran up the winding staircase
Of the belfry quicker than another could have gone down .He hurried, ou t of breath, in to the aerial chamber of thegreat bell , looked at her attentively and lovingly for a moment then began to talk kindly to her
,and patted her
with his hand, as you would do a good horse whi ch youare going to put to hi s mettle. He would pity her for thelabour she was about to undergo. After these first caresses
, he shouted to his assistan ts in a lower story Of thetower to begin . They sei zed the ropes
,the W indlass
creaked, and slowly and heavily the enormous cone of metalwas set in motion. Quasimodo
,wi th
'
heaving bosom,
THE B UNCHBAOK or R om - DAME.
half bell ; a spe cies of horrible Astolpho, carried off by aprodigious hippogriff of living brass .
The presence of thi s extraordinary being seemed to infuse the breath of life into the whole cathedral. A sort ofmysterious emanation seemed— at least so the supers ti tiousmulti tude imagined— to i ssue from him, to animate thestones of Notre-Dame
,and to make the very en trails of
the old church heave and palpi tate. When i t was knownthat he was there
,i t was easy to fan cy that the thousand
statues in the galleries and over the porches moved andwere instinct with life. In fact
,the ca thedral seemed to
be a doci le and obedient creature in his hands ; wai tingonly his will to rai se her mighty voice being posses sed andfilled with Quasimodo as with a familiar genius . Hemight be said to make the immense building breathe. Hewas in fact, every where he multiplied himself at all thepoints of the edifice. At one time the spec ta to r would beseized wi th afi
'
right, on beholding at the top of one of thetowers an Odd- looking dwarf, climbing, twining, crawlingon all fours
,descending externally into the abyss
,leaping
from one projecting poin t to another,and fumbling in the
body of some sculptured Gorgon : i t was Quasimodo un
nesting the daws . At ano ther,the vi site r stumbled, in
some dark corner of the church, upon a crouching, grimfaced creature, a sort of living chimazra— it was Quasimodomusing. At another time might be seen under a belfryan enormous head and a bundle of ill-adjusted limbs furiously swinging at the end of a rope — it was Quasimodoringing the vespers or the angelus. Frequently,at night,a hideous figure might be seen wandering on the deli cateopen-work balustrade whi ch crowns the towers and runsround the apsis — it was still the hunchback of NotreDame . At such times
,according to the repo rts of the
gossips of the neighbourhood,the whole church assumed a
fanta s tic, supernatural, frightful , aspect ; eyes and mouthsOpened here and there the dogs
,and the dragons
,and the
griffins of stone, whi ch keep watch day and nigh t, with ou t
s tretched neck and open j aws, around the monstrous cathe
dral, were heard to bark and howl. At Chris tmas, whilethe great bell, which seemed to rattle in
'
the throat, sum1.
1 46 THE HUNOHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
moued the pious to the midnigh t mass, the gloomy facadeof the cathedral wore such a strange and sinister air, thatthe grand porch seemed to swallow the multitude
,while
the rose-window above i t looked on. All this proceededfrom Quasimodo. Egypt would have taken him for thegod of the temple the middle age believed him to be itsdaemon : he was the soul of i t. To such a point was heso
,that to those who knew that Quasimodo once existe d
NOne-Dame now appears deserted, inanimate, dead. Y ou
feel that there is something wanting . This immense bodyi s void i t i s a skeleton : the spirit has departed ; you seeits place, and that is all . I t i s hke a scull : the sockets ofthe eyes are still there, but the eyes themselves are gone .
CHAPTER IV.
THE DOG AND H IS MASTER.
THERE was,however
, one human being whom Quasimodoexcepted from his antipathy
,and to whom he was as much
nay,perhaps more strongly attached than to his cathedral
- that being was Claude Frollo .The thing was perfectly natural . Claude Frollo had
taken pity on him,adopted him
,supported
'
him,brought
him up . I t was between C laude Frollo’
s legs, that, whenquite small
,he had been accustomed to seek refuge when
teased by boys or barked at by dogs . Claude Frollo hadtaught him to speak
,to read
,to wri te . To crown all Claude
Frollo had made him bell—ringer.The gratitude of Quasimodo was in con sequence pro
found, impassioned, unbounded ; and though the counte
nance of his foster—father was frequently gloomy andm orose, though his way of speaking was habituall y short,harsh, and imperious, never had this gratitude ceased for amoment to sway him . The archdeacon had in Quasimodothe most submi ssive of slaves, the most docile of attendants,
rm : B UNCHBA CK OF NOTRE-DAME. 147
the most vigi lan t of warders . After the poor bell-ringerhad lost his hearing, Claude Frol lo and he conversed in alanguage of signs, mysterious and unders tood by themselvesalone
.Thus the archdeacon was the only human creature
wi th whom Quasimodo had kept up communication . Therewere but two things in the world with whi ch he still hadinte rcourse — Notre-Dame and Claude Frollo .Nothing on earth can be compared with the empire Of
the archdeacon over the bell-ringer,and the attachmen t of
the bell- ringer to the archdeacon . A sign from Claude,
and the idea of giving him pleasure would have sufficed tomake Quasimodo throw himself from the top of the towersof Notre-Dame. I t was truly extraordinary to see all tha tphysical strength
,whi ch had attained such a surprising
developmen t in Quasimodo,placed impli citly by him at
the di sposal of another. I t bespoke undoubtedly filial submission
,domestic attachment ; but i t proceeded al so from the
fascination which mind exercises upon mind. I t was an imperfect
,distorted
,defecti ve organisation
,withhead abased and
supplicating eyes,before a superior
,a lofty
,a commanding
,
in telligence : but, above all, i t was grati tude — but grati tudeso carried to i ts extreme limi t that we know not W hat tocompare i t with . This virtue is not one of those of whichthe most striking examples are to be sought among men .
We shall therefore say that Quasimodo loved the archdeacon as never dog, never horse, never elephant, loved hismaster.In 1 482 Quasimodo was about twenty, Claude Frollo
about thirty- six . The one had grown up, the other beganto grow old .
Claude Frollo was no longer the simple student of thecollege o f Torchi
,the tender protector of an orphan child,
the young and thoughtful philosopher, so learned and yetso ignorant. He was an austere
,grave
,morose, church
man, second chaplain to the bishop, archdeacon of Josas,having under him the two deaneries of Mon tlhery andChateaufort
,and one hundred and seventy-four pari sh
priests. He was a sombre and awe- inspiring personage,
before whom tiembled the singing boys in al bs and longcoats, the precentors, the brothers of S t. Augus tin, the
r. 2
'rns normm mcx on NOTRE-DAME . 149
ror of horrors'
in a lad of sixteen — that his excesses ofttimes carried him into the Rue de Glatign y i tself.Grieved and thwarted by these circumstances in his
human affections, Claude had thrown himself with so muchthe more ardour into the arms of Science, who at leas t doesnot laugh you in the face, and always repays you, thoughsometimes in rather hollow coin, for the attention s whichyou have bestowed on her. Thus he became more andmore le arned
,and at the same time
,by a natural couse
quence, more and more rigid as a pries t, more and moregloomy as a man.As C laude Frollo had from his youth travelled through
almost the entire circle of human knowledge, pos i tive, external
,and lawful
,he was forced, unless he could make up
his mind to stop where he was, to seek further food forthe in sa tiable cravings of his understanding. The antiquesymbol of the serpent biting its tail i s pecu l iarly appropriateto scien ce ; and i t appears that Claude Frollo knew thisfrom experience. Several grave persons affirmed that afterexhausting the f as of human knowledge he had dared topenetrate into the nef as . He had
,i t was said, tas ted suc
cessively all the apples of the tree of knowledge, and hadat las t bitten at the forbidden fruit. He had taken his placeby turns, as our readers have seen
,at the conferences of the
theologian s in the Sorbonne,at the meetings of the philo
sophers at the image of St . Hilaire,at the di spute s of the
decretists at the image of St. Martin, at the congregationso f the physicians at the holy-water fon t o f Notre-Dame.All the allowable and approved di shes which those fourgreat ki tchens
,called the four facul ties , could elaborate and
set before the understanding he had feasted upon,and
satiety had supervened before his hunger was appeased.He had then dug further and deeper
,beneath all that
finite , material, limited science he had perhaps risked hissoul, and had seated himself in the cavern at that mysterious table of the alchym ists and astrologers, one end of
which is occupied in the middle ages by Averroes,William
of Paris, and Ni colas Flame], while the other, lighte d bythe chandelier wi th seven branches
,run s on to Solomon,
L 3
1 50 THE HUNCHBACK op NOTRE-DAME.
Pythagoras, and Zoroaste'
r. So,at least
,i t was conjectured
,
whether righ t or wrong .
I t’
i s certain that the archdeacon frequently visitedthe churchyard of the Innocents
,where
,to be sure, his
parents lay buried with the other victims of the pestilen ceof 1466 but then he appeared to take much less notice ofthe cross at the head of their grave than of the tomberected c lose by i t for Nicolas Flamel and C laude Pernelle.I t is certain that he had often been seen walking along
the street of the Lombards and stealthily entering a smallhouse which formed thetcorner of the Rue des Ecrivains andtheRue Mari vaux . I t was the house built byNicolas Flamel,in which he died about the year 1 41 7, and which , havingbeen ever since uninhabited, was beginning to fal l to ruin,so worn were the walls by the alchymists and the professors of the occul t scien ce from all countries
,who resorted
thi ther and scratched their names upon them . Some of theneighbours even affirmed that they had once seen througha hole the archdeacon digging and turning over the mouldin the two cellars
,the j ambs of which had been covered
wi th verses and hieroglyphics by Flamel himself. I t wassupposed that Master Ni colas had buried the philosopher’sstone in one of these cellars ; and for two centuries thealchymists, from Magistri to Father Pacifique, never ceaseddelving and rummaging
,till the house
,weakened and under
m ined by their researches, at last tumbled about their ears .I t i s certain
,moreover
,that the archdeacon was smitten
wi th a strange passion for the emblemati c porch of NotreDame
,that page of conjuration wri tten in stone by bishop
William of Pari s,who has no doubt been damned for having
prefixed so infernal a frontispiece to the sacred poem everlastingly chanted by the rest of the edifice. I t was alsobelieved that the archdeacon had discovered the hiddenmean ing of the colossal St. Christopher
,and of the other
tall enigmatical statue which then stood at the entrance ofthe Parvis
,and which the people called in derision Monsieu r
Legris. But a circumstance whi ch every body might haveremarked was his sitting hours without number on theparapet of the Parvis, contemplating the sculptures of the
m s B UNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 1 51
porch, sometimes examining the foolish virgins with theirlamps reversed
,sometimes the wise virgin s wi th their lamps
upright ; at others calculating the angle of vision of the ravenon the left-hand side of the porch, looking at some mysterious spot in the church , where the philosopher
’
s s tone iscertainly concealed, if it is not in Ni colas Flamel
’
s cellar.I t was
,be i t observed by the way
,a singular destiny for
the church of Notre-Dame at that period to be thus lovedin different degrees and with such ardour by two beings sodissim ilar as Claude and Quasimodo— loved by the one,
scarcelyfl mow thaup half. man,for i ts beauty, its, m ajggty,
the harmonies“_resulting from .its grand whole . loved .bya mind cul tivated to the u tmost
_and aglowing imagination , for its mysti c ,
signification, “for its
hidden meaning, for the symbol con cealedsculptures of i ts facade, like the first text under the secondof a palimpsest
,in short
,for the riddle which i t incessantly
proposes to the understanding.
Lastly,i t i s certain that the archdeacon had fi tted up
for himself in the tower nearest to the Greve,close to the
belfry, a small and secret cell, which none, i t was said,but the bishop durst enter without his perm i ssion . Thiscell had been made of old almost at the top of the tower
,
among the ravens’
nests, by bishop Hugo, of Besancon,who had there practised the black art in his time . Noneknew what that cell con tained but from the Terrai nthere had often been seen at night
,through a small win
dow at the back of the tower,a strange, red, i ntermitting
light, appearing, di sappearing, and re- appearing at shortand equal intervals
,apparently governed by the blast of
a bellows,and proceeding rather from the flame of a fire
than that of a lamp or candle . In the dark this had asingul ar effect at that height
,and the goodwives would
say : There’
s the archdeacon puffing away again : hel lis crackling up yonder ! ”
These, after all, were no very strong proofs of sorcerysti ll there was sufficien t smoke to authori se the conclusionthat there must be some fire : at any rate the archdeaconhad that formidable reputation . I t is nevertheless butj ust to state that the sciences ofEgypt, necromancy, magic,
L 4
m s HUNCHBACK or NOT'RE-DAME .
'
1 53'
chapter,had observed
,not wi thout horror, marks as i f
scratched by claws or finger- nails upon the surpli ce of
Monsieur the archdeacon of J083 8 .
In other respects his austerity was redoubled, and neverhad he led a more exemplary life. From disposition as
well as profession he had always kep t alobf from womenhe seemed now to dislike them more than ever. At themere rustling of a silk petticoat hi s hood was over hiseyes. On this point he was so stric t that when the king
’
sdaughter
,the lady of Beaujeu
,came in the month of De
cember, 1 48 1 , to see the cloisters of No tre-Dame, be
seriou sly opposed her admission,reminding the bishop of
the statute of the black book, dated on the vigi l of St.Bartholomew
,1 3 34, which forbids access to the cloister
to every woman whatsoever,whether old or young, mis
tress or servant. Whereupon the bishop was forced toappeal to the ordinance of Otho the legate,
~
which except scerta in ladies of quali ty
,who cannot be refused with
out scandal”
a liquce magnates ma l ieres qua: s ine s canda loevita ri non pos sum. Still the archdeacon protested
,al
leging that the ordinance o f the legate, which dated from1 207, was anterior by one hundred and twenty- sevenyears to the black book
,and consequently annul led in poin t
of fact by the latter ; and he actual ly refused to appearbefore the princess.I t was moreover remarked that his horror of the Egyp
tians and Zingari seemed to have become more vehementfor some time past. He had solicited from the bishop anedict expressly prohibiting the Bohemians to come anddance and play in the area of the Parvis and he hadrecently taken the pains to search through the musty archives of the official for cases of wizards and witchessentenced to the flames or the gallows for practi sing theblack art in as soci ation with cats
,swine, or goats .
1 54 THE HUNCHBAOK on NOTRE-DAME‘.
BOOK V.
CHAPTER I .
ANCIEN T ADMIN ISTRATION OF JUSTICE .
A VERY lucky W ight was,in the year of grace 1482, that
doughty personage Robert d’
E stouteville, knight, sieur ofBeyne
,baron of I vry and St. Andry in La Marche
,coun
cillor and chamberlain of the king,and keeper of the pro
vosty of Paris . I t was then nearly seventeen years agonethat the king had on the 7th of November 1465, the yearof the great comet conferred on him the important appointmen t of provost of Pari s, which was considered ratheras a dignity than an office. I t was a marvellous thing thatin 82 there should still be a gentleman holding a commissionunder the king whose appointment dated from the time ofthe marriage of the natural daughter of Louis XI . withthe Bastard of Bourbon . On the same day that Robertd’
E stou teville had succeeded Jacques de Villiers in theprovostship of Pari s
,MasterJeanDauvet superseded Messire
Helye de Thorrettes as first president of the court of parliament
,Jean Jouvenal des Ursins supplanted Pierre de
Morvilliers in the office of chancellor of France,and
Regnault des Dormans tu rned Pierre Puy out of the post ofmaster of requests in ordinary to the king’s household .
And how many presidents,Chancellors
,and masters
,had
Robert d’
Es tou teville seen since he had held the provost.ship of Paris ? I t was given to him to keep
,
"said theletters—patent
,and well had he kept i t forsooth . So closely
had he clung to it,so complete ly had he incorporated,
Th is comet, against wh ich Pope Cahx tus ordered public prayers, is thesame that W 111 be aga in VISlb le in 1835.
rm : HUNCB BAOK op Nornam amn. 1 55
identified himself with i t, that he had es caped that maniafor changing his servants which possessed Louis XI ., ajealous
,niggardly
,and toiling sovereign
,who though t to
keep up the elasticity of his power by frequent removalsand appointments . Nay more
,the gallan t knigh t had ob
tained the reversion of his place for his son, and for twoyears past the name of the noble Jacques d
’
E s tou teville,esquire
,figured beside his own at the head of the regi ster
of the ordinary of the provosty of Paris . Rare, indeed,and signal favour ! I t is true that Robert d ’
E stou teville
was a good soldier,that he had loyally raised the banner
against the league of the public welfa re, and that he hadpresen ted the queen with a most wonderful stag made ofsweetmeats
,on the day of her entry into Paris . He was
moreover on terms of friendship with Messire Tristan theHermit
,provost of the marshals of the king’s household.
The situation of Messire Robert was, of course, ratherenviable . In the first place he enj oyed a handsome salaryto which hung
,like supernumerary bunches of grapes to
his vine,the revenues of the civil and criminal registries
of the provostship,and also the civil and criminal revenues
of the court of the Chatelet,to say nothing of the tolls col
lected at the bridge ofMante and Corbeil,and other minor
perquisites . Add to this the pleasure of riding in the ci tycavalcades and processions
,and showing off among the
half- scarlet half- tawny robes of the city officers his finem ili tary armour
,which you may still admire sculptured on
his tomb in the abbey of Valmont in Normandy,and his
morion embossed all over at Montlhery . And then,was i t
nothing to have the entire supremacy over the keeper,the
warden, the gaoler, and the two auditors of the Chatelet,the sixteen commissaries of the sixteen quarters
,the hun
dred and twenty horse-patrole,the hundred and twenty
vergers, and the whole of the watch of the ci ty IVas i tnothing to administer justice, civil and criminal, to have aright to burn , to hang, to draw, besides the inferior jurisdi ction “ in the first instan ce
,
” as the charters express i t,in
that viscounty of Paris an d the seven noble bailiwicksthereto appertaining ? Can you conceive any thing moregratifying than to issue orders and pass sentence
,as Mess ire
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE- DAME . 57
magistrate whose duty it was to clear away al l the fi l th,
material and figurative,made by a f éte at Paris. And
then,too
,he had to si t for the trial of offenders at the
Grand Chatelet. Now we have remarked that judges ingeneral arrange matters so that the days on which theyhave to perform their judicial function s are their days ofi ll-humour
,that they may be sure to have somebody on
whom they can conveniently vent i t i n the name of thek ing, of the law, and of j ustice .Meanwhile the proceedings had commenced wi thout him .
His deputies did the business for him,accordi ng to custom
and ever since the hour of eigh t in the morning somescores of ci tizens of both sexes, crowded into a dark cornerof the court of the Chatelet, be tween a strong oaken barrier and the wall
,gazed with great edification at the spec
tacle of civil and criminal jus tice administered somewhat
pel el l and qui te at random by Master Florian Barbedienne
,audi tor to the Chatelet
,and lieutenan t of Monsieur
the provost.I t was a small
,low
,hal l
,with coved ceiling ; at the
further end stood a table studded with fleurs-de- lis,a large
empty arm- chai r of carved oak,reserved
'for the provost,and on the left a s tool for the auditor
,Master Florian .
Below was the clerk busily writing. In front were thepeople
,and before the door and the table a posse of the pro
vos t’
s men in frocks of purple camlet with white crosses .Two sergeants of the Parloir aux Bourgeois
,in their ker
psey j ackets half- scarlet and half—blue, stood sentry before alow closed door
,whi ch was seen behind the table. A
single poin ted window,of scanty dimensions
,enca sed in the
thi ck wal l, threw the faint light of a January morning on
two grotesque figures — the fantasti c demon of stone sculptured by way o f ornament to the groining of the ceilingand the judge seated at the extremity of the hall.Figure to yours elf seated at the provos t
’
s table, lollingupon his elbows between two piles of papers, his, feet uponthe skirt of hi s plain brown cloth robe
,furred wi th whi te
lamb- skin,which encircled his j olly rubicund visage and
double chin, Mas ter Florian Barbedienne, audi tor to the
Chatele t.
158 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
Now,the said auditor was deaf. A trifling defect this
in an audi tor. Master Florian,nevertheless
,gave judga
ment without appeal, and very consisten tly too . I t i s mos tcertain that i t is quite sufficien t for a judge to appear toli s ten and this condition
,the only essential one for strict
j ustice,the venerable auditor fulfilled the more exactly in
asmuch as no noise could divert his atten tion .
For the rest,he had among the audi tory a merciless
comptroller of his sayings and doings in the person of our
young friend, Jeban Frollo du Moulin, who was sure to beseen every where in Paris except before the professors’
Look you, said he in a low tone to hi s companionRobin Poussepain, who was grinning beside him while hecommented on the scenes that were passing before themthere i s the pretty Jehanneton du Bu isson of the Marché
Neuf Upon my soul he condemns her too, the old brute !He must have no more eyes than ears . Fifteen sous fourdeniers Parisis, for having worn two strings of beads !’
T i s paying rather dear, though — Soho ! two gentlemenamong these varlets Aiglet de Soins
,and Hutin de Mailly
— two esquires,corpus Christi ! Ha ! they have been
dicing. When shall we see our rector here ? To pay afine of one hundred livres to the king Bravo Barbedienne !— May I be my brother the archdeacon, if this shall preventme from gaming ; gaming by day, gaming by night, gaming while I live, gaming till I die, and staking my soulafter my shirt — By
’
r Lady, what damsels one after another, pretty lambs ! Ambroise Lecuyére, Isabeau la Pay.nette, Berarde Gironin, I know them all, by my fay !Fined
,fined
,fined ! That will teach you to wear gilt
belts ! Ten sous Parisis, coquette s ! Oh ! the old deafimbecile ! Oh ! Florian the blockhead ! Oh Barbedi
enne,the booby There he is at his feast ! Fines
,costs
,
charges,damages, stocks, pillory, impri sonment, are to him
Christmas cakes and St. John'
s marchpane ! Look at him,
the hog ! -Get on ! what ! another lewd woman ! Thibaud la Thibaude, I declare ! For being seen ou t of the
R ue Glatigny — Who is that young fellow ? Giefi'
roy Mabonne, one of the bowmen of the guard— for swearing an
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME . 1 59
oath,forsooth — A fine for you La Thibaude ! a fine for
you Giefi'
royl— but ten to one the old stupid will confound
the two charges and make the woman pay for the oath, andthe soldier for incontinence ! — Look , look, Robin ! whatare they bringi ng in now ? By Jupi ter, there are all thehounds in the pack ! That must be a fine head of game !A wild boar surely And so i t i s, Robin, so i t is ! Anda rare one too, God wot i— Gramercy !
’
t is our prince,our Pope of Fools
,our bell- ringer, our one- eyed, hunch
backed,bandylegged Quasimodo
Sure enough i t was Quasimodo, bound, corded, pinioned.The party of the provost
’
s men who surrounded him wereaccompanied by the captain of the watch in person, havingthe arms of France embroidered on the breast of his coatand those of the ci ty on the back . At the same time therewas nothing about Quasimodo, save and except his deformi ty
,which could justify thi s display of halberts and arque
busses : he was silent, sullen , and quiet. His only eyemerely gave from time to time an angry glance at the bondswhich confined him .
Meanwhile Master Florian was inten tly perusing the indorsement of a paper containing j
the charges alleged againstQuasimodo
,which had been handed to him by the clerk.
By means of this precaution, which he was accus tomed totake before he proceeded to an examination , he acquaintedhimself beforehand wi th the name
,condi tion, and offen ce,
of the prisoner was enabled to have in readiness replies toexpected answers ; and succeeded in extri cating himself fromall the sinuosities of the interrogatory
,without too grossly
exposing his infirmity . To him therefore the endorsementwas l ike the dog to the blind man . If
,however
,his in
firmity chanced to betray i tself now and then by some incoherent apostrophe or some unintelligible question
,wi th the
many it passed for profoundness, with some few for imbecility. In ei ther case the honour of the magistracymained unimpeached for i t i s better that a j udge shouldbe reputed profound or imbecile than deaf. Accordinglyhe took great pains to conceal his deafness from observation
,
and in general b e was so successfu l as at last to deceivehimself on this point. This i s more easily done than it
ran numnm aox or NOTRE-DAKE. 16 !
his hump with disdain ; while Master Florian, equall yastonished
,and supposing that the mirth of the spectators
had been provoked by some disrespectful reply of the pris oner
’
s,rendered visible to him by the ri sing of his shoul
ders,indignantly exclaimed For that answer
,fell ow
,
you deserve a halter. Know you to whom you speak ?”
This sally was not likely to check the explosion of theeral mirth . So odd and so ridiculous did i t appear tothat the fi t of laugh ter spread to the very sergeants
of the Parloir aux Bourgeoi s, a sort of knaves of spades,proverbial for stupidi ty . Quasimodo alone preserved hisgravi ty
,for this very sufficien t reason, that he had not the
least notion o f what was passing around him . The judge,more and more exasperated, thought fi t to proceed in thesame strain , h0ping thereby to s trike the pri soner with aterror that should react upon the audien ce .How dare you thus insult the audi tor of the Cha
telet, the deputy superintenden t of the police of Paris,
appointed to enquire into crimes, offences, and misdemeanours to Control all trades to prevent forestall ing andregrating to cleanse the ci ty of filth and the air of contagious diseases ; to repa ir the pavements in short to paycontinual atten tion to the publi c welfare
,and that too
without wages or h0pe of salary ! Do you know thatI am Florian Barbedienne, own lieutenant of Monsieurthe provost, and moreover, commissary, comptroller, ex i
am iner
The Lord knows when Master Florian would havefinished this flight of eloquence had not the low door hehind him suddenly opened and afforded passage to the provost himself. Master Florian did not stop short at hisentrance
,but
,turning half round u pon his heel
,and
abruptly directing to the provost the harangue which amoment before he was launching forth against Quasimodoa
“Monseigneur,” said he
,I demand such pu nish
ment as i t shall please you to pronounce upon the prisone rhere present for audacious and heinous contempt of justi ce .”
Out of breath wi th the ex ertion,he sat down and began
to wipe off the perspiration which trickled from his foreheadu
1 69. THE HUNCHBACK on NOTR ErDAME .
and fell in big drops upon the parchments spread ou t beforehim . Messire Rober t d
’
E s tou teville knitted his browsand commanded attention with a gesture so imperious andexpressive that Quasimodo had some inkling of what wasmean t.Wh at has t thou done to be brought hither
,varlet ?
said the provost stem ly.
The poor devil,supposing that the provost was enquir
ing his name,broke his habitual silence, and in a harsh
and guttural voice repl ied,Quasimodo.”
The answer was so incongruous with the question as
once more to excite the risibility of the bystanders,when
Messire R o bert, flushed with rage, exclaimed : Art thoumaking thy game of me too
,thou arrant knave
Bell- ringer at Notre—Dame,
” replied Quasimodo,con
ceiving that the judge had enquired his profession .
Bell- ringer — roared the provost,who had got up
that morning,as we ha ve observed, in such an ill—humour
as not to need the further provocation of these crossgrained answers belLringer I ’ll have such a pealrung on thy back as shall make thee rue thy impertinence.Dost thou hear
,varlet
I f you want to know my age,said Quasimodo
, I
believe I shall be twenty,next Martinmas.”
This was too provoking the provost lost all patience.IVhat, wretch dost thou defy the provost Here vergers
,take this fellow to the pillory of the Greve let him
be flogged and then turn him for an hour.’
Sdeath, he shallpay for his insolence
,and my pleasure i s that this sentence
be proclaimed by four trumpeters in the seven castellaniesof the viscounty of Paris.”
The clerk ins tantly fell to work to record the sentence .Ventre D ieu but that’s a just sentence ! cried
Jehan Frollo du Moulin, from his corner.The provost turned about
,and again fixing his flashing
eyes on Quasimodo,
I verily believe,said he, that
the knave has dared to'
swear in our presence . — C lerk,add a fine of twelve deniers Parisis for the oath and lethalf of i t be given to the church of St. Eu stache.In a few minutes the sentence was drawn up. The
THE HUNCHBACK os NOTRE-DAME. 1 63
language was simple and con cise. The practice of theprovosty and viscounty of Pari s had not then been laiddown by the presiden t Thibaut Baill et
,and Roger Bamme
,
king’s advocate i t was not then obstructed by that forestof quirks
,cavils
,and quibbles
,which these two lawyers
plan ted before i t at the commencement of the sixteenthcentury. Every thing about i t was clear, explici t, ex peditious . I t was all straightforward work, and you perceived at once at the end of every path, unin terrupted bybushes or roundabout ways, the pillory, the gibbet, and thewheel. You knew at least what you had to expect.The clerk handed the sentence to the provost
,who af.
fixed his seal,
'and left the hall to continue his round of
the courts,in a mood which was likely to in crease the
population of the gaols of Paris. Jehan Frollo and RobinPoussepain laughed in their sleeve ; while Quasimodolooked on with an air of calm indifference .t ile Master Florian Barbedienne was in his turn
reading the sentence,previously to his signing i t
,the clerk
,
feeling compassion for the wretched victim and hopingto obtain some mitigation of his punishment, approached asnear as he could to the ear of the audi tor and said
,point
ing at the same time to Quasimodo The poor fellowi s deaf.”
He conceived that thi s community of infirmi ty mightawaken Master Florian ’s leni ty in behalf of the culprit.But, in the first place
,as we have already mentioned
,
Master Florian was by no means anxious to have i t knownthat he was deaf ; and, in the next, he was so hard ofhearing as not to catch a single syllable of what the clerksaid to him . Pretending
,nevertheless
,to hear
,he replied :
“Aha ! that i s a different thing,I did not know that. In
this case let him have another hour in the pillory andhe signed the sentence with this alteration .
That’
s right ! ” ‘cried Robin Poussepain, who owedQuasimodo a grudge
“ this will teach him to handlepeople roughly.
'rnn BUNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 1 65
defended by two cross-bars of i ron the onl y aperture forthe admission of air and light to a small cell wi thout door,formed in the basement of the wall of the old building,and full of a quiet the more profound, a s ilence themore melancholy
,from i ts very contigui ty to a public
place,and that the most populous and the most noisy in
Paris.This cell had been noted in Pari s for three cen turies,
ever since Madame Rolande of Roland’s Tower, out
affection for her father, who had fallen in the Crusades,
caused it to be cut out of the wall of her own house , for
the purpose of shutting herself up in i t for ever, keepingno part of her mansion but this hple, the door of whi chwas wall ed up and the window Open winter and summer,and giving all the res t to the poor and to God . In thisanticipated tomb
,the disconsolate lady had awai ted death
for twenty years,praying nigh t and day for the soul of
her father,lying upon ashes
,without so much as a stone
for a pillow,habi ted in black sackcloth
,and subsis ting
solely upon the bread and water which the pity of the passengers induced them to
'
deposit on her window- sill, thusliving upon charity
,after giving away her all. At her
death , at the moment of quitting this for her last sepulchre,she bequeathed it for ever to afflicted females, maids,wives, or widows, who should have occa sion to pray muchfor themselves or others, and who should wish to burythemselves alive
, on accoun t of some heavy calamity orsome extraordinary penance. The tears and blessings ofthe poor embalmed her memory
,but to their great disap
pointment their pious benefactress could not be canonisedfor want of patronage sufficien tly powerful . Such of themas were not most religiously di sposed had hoped that thething would be more easily accompl i shed in Paradise thanat Rome, and had therefore at once prayed to God insteadof the pope in behalf of the deceased . Most of them hadbeen con tent to hold her memory sacred and to make reli cso f her rags . The city
,seconding the intentions of the lady,
had founded a publi c breviary,which was attached to the
wall near the window of the cell , that passengers mightstop from time to time
,were i t only that they might beM 3
1 66 THE . HUNGHBAOK: on NOTRE-DAME.
induced to recite a prayer, that the prayer might makethem think of aims, and that the poor recluses, the success ive inmates of Madame ' R olande ’
s cell,might not abso
lutely perish of hunger and neglect.I n the cities of the middle ages tombs of this sort were
not rare. In the most frequented street,in the m ost
crowded and noisy market, in the midst of the highways,almost under the horses
’ feet and the cart-wheels,you
f requen tly met with a cellar,a cave
,a well
,a walled and
grated cabin, in which a human being, self- devoted to someeverlasting sorrow
,to some signal expiation
,spent nigh t
and day in prayer. And none of those reflections whichwould be awakened in us at the present time by thi sstrange sight
,this horrid cell
,a sort of intermediate link be
tween a house and a grave,between the cemetery and the
ci ty that being cut off from all communi ty with mankind,
and henceforth numbered among the dead ; that lamp consum ing i ts last drop of oil in obscuri ty that spark of lifeglimmering in a grave that voice of incessant prayer in acage of stone that face for ever turned towards the nextworld ; that eye already lit by another sun that earpressed against the side of the tomb that soul a prisonerin this body this body a prisoner in thi s dungeon, andthe moaning of that affli cted soul within this two- foldenvelope of flesh and granite none of these ideas presented themselves to the multi tude in those days . Theunreasoning and far from subtle Piety of that period couldnot see so many facets in a religious act. She tookthe thing in the lump ; and honoured, venerated, upono ccasion sanctified
,the sacrifice
,but without analysing the
sufferings, or bestowing on them only a moderate degreeof pity. She carried from time to time a pittance to thewretched penitent
,peeping through the hole to see if he
were still alive but she knew not his name she scarcelyknew how many years i t was since he had begun to dieand to the enquiries of the stranger respecting the living .
skeleton, who was rotting in such a cabin, cave, or cellar,
the neighbours merely replied,I t i s the recluse .”
Thus at that day people saw every thing with thenaked eye
, without magnifying glass, without ex aggera
'rnn nuncnna c’
x or NOTRE-DAME . 1 67
tion,without metaphysics . The microscope had not yet
been invented ei ther for material or for spiritual things.Instances of this kind of seclusion in the heart of
ci ties, though they raised but li ttle wonder, were yet frequent
,as we have just observed . In Paris there was a
considerable numbe r of these cells for praying to God anddoing penance ; and almost all of them were occupied.The clergy
,i t is true, disliked to see them empty, as that
ixnplied lukewarmness in their flocks ; and lepers wereplaced in them when no peniten ts offered themselves. Besides the cell of the Greve
,there was one at Montfaucon,
another at the charnel-house of the Innocents ; a third, Ido not exactly remember where, at the logis Clichon, Ibelieve ; and others at various places, where you still findtraces o f them in tradi tions, though the bui ldings havebeen swept away . On the hill of St. Genevieve a kind ofJob o f the middle ages sang for thirty years the sevenpenitential psalms
,upon a dungh ill
,at the bottom o f a
cistern, beginning afresh as soon as he had finished, andraising his voice highest at night : and to this day theantiquary imagines that he bears his voice, as he entersthe street called Pu its qu i pa rle.But to return to the cell of Roland
’
s Tower. I t i sright to mention that ever since the death of MadameRolande i t had seldom been for any length of time without a tenant. Many a woman had come thither tomourn, some their indiscretions, and others the loss of
parents or lovers. Parisian scandal,which interferes in
every thing, even in such things as least concern i t, pretended that very few widows had been seen among the
number.According to the fashion of the age, a Latin legend
inscribed upon the wall indicated to the lettered passengerthe pious destination of this cell . Down to the middle ofthe sixteenth century i t was customary to explain theObject of a building by a short motto placed over the door.Thus in France there may still be read over the postern ofthe seignorial house of Tourville
, SILETO ET s p a n s i nI reland
, beneath the coat of arms over the grand entranceto Forte scue castle
,Fon '
rn SCUTUM saw s DUCUM in
M 4
Tun HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 169
eviden t] not on accoun t of poverty, but simply for fear offine. ’t eir companion was tyred nearly in the samefashion, but in her dress and manner there was some.thing which be trayed the countrywoman . The heigh t ofher belt above the hips told that she had no t been longin Paris . Add to this a plaited neckerchief, bows of
ribands at her shoes , the stripes of her petti coat runningbreadthwise instead of lengthwise, and various other enormities equally abhorrent to good tas te.The fi rst two walked with the step peculiar to the
women of Paris who are showing the lions to thei r provincial friends . The third held a big boy by one hand,while he carried a large cake in the other. The boy didnot care to keep up with her
,but suffered himself to be
dragged along,and stumbled every moment
,to the no small
alarm of his mother. I t is true that he paid much greateratten tion to the cake than to the pavement. Some weigh tyreason no doubt preven ted hi s taking a bite
,for he did no
more than look wistfully at i t.’
Twas cruel to make aTantalus of the jolt-headed cub.Meanwhile the three damoisell es for the term dames
was then reserved for noble females were talking all atonce.Let us make haste, damoiselle Mahiette, said the
youngest, who was also the lustiest of the three, to hercountry friend . I am afraid we shall be too late . W e
were told at the Chatelet that he was to be put in the p illory forthwith .
”
Pooh ! pooh !'
What are you talking of,damoiselle
Oudarde Musnier ? replied the other Parisian . He is tostay two hours in the pillory . We shall have plen ty oftime . Have you ever seen any one in the pillory, my dearMahiette PYes,
” answered M ahiette,at Reims .
Your pillory at Reims why,
’ti s not worth m entioning.
'
A wretched cage,where they turn nothing but cl od-n
polesClodpoles, forsooth rej oined M ahiette , i n the
Cloth Market at R eims ! We have had some no ted criminais there, however — people who had murdered bo th
1 70 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
father and mother. Clodpoles,indeed what do you take
us for, GervaiseI t is certain that the provincial lady felt somewhat net
t led at the attack on the honour of her pillory . Luckilythe discreet damoisell e Oudarde gave a seasonable turn to
.the conversation .
What say you,Mahiette
,she asked
,to our Fle
"m ish ambassadors ? Have you ever had any l ike them atR eims
I confess,replied Mahiette, that Pari s i s the only
p lace for seeing Flemings such as they .”
And their horses, what beautiful animals, dressed out.a s they are in the fashion of their country
Ah, my dear exclaimed Mahiette, assuming in herturn an air of superiori ty
,what woul d you say had you
b een at Reims at the coronation in the year 6 1 , and seenthe horses of the princes and of the king’s retinue There"were housings and trappings of all sorts some of damaskc loth and fine cloth of gold garnished with sable otherso f velvet furred with ermine others all covered with jewe llery
,and large gold and silver bells. Think of the
money that all this must have cost ! And then the bean .
tiful pages that were upon them .
”
Heyday cried Oudarde, what is there to do
yonder ? See what a crowd is collected at the foot of thebridge There seems to be something in the midst of themthat they are looking at.
Surely I hear the sound of a tambourine, said Gervaise . I dare say it i s young Esmeralda playing herantics wi th her goat . Quick, Mahiette, and pull your boyalong. You are come to see the curiosi ties of Paris . Yeste rday you saw the Flemings to-day you must see theEgyptian .
”
The Egyptian ! exclaimed M ahie tte, starting back,and forcibly grasping the arm of her son . God forbid !she might steal my boy . Come EustacheWith these words she began to run along the quay to
wards the Greve,till she had left the bridge at a consider
able distance behind her . Presently the boy, whom shedrew after her
,tripped and fell upon his knees : she stop
m s nunonnaox'
on NOTRE-DAME . l 7 l
ped to recover breath,and Oudarde and Gervaise overtook
her.That Egyptian steal your boy said Gervaise
beshrew me if this be not a strange fancyMahiette shook -her head with a pensive look .
And what is still more strange,
” observed Oudarde,Sister Gudule has the same notion of the Egyptians .
”
I'Vho i s Sister Gudule enquired Mahiette .
You must be vastly ignorant at your Reims not toknow that
,
” replied Oudarde. Why,the recluse of the
Trou aux Rats .What ! the poor woman to whom we are carrying the
cakeOudarde nodded affirmatively . Just so. Y ou will
see her presently at her window on the Greve. She holdsj ust the same opinion as you of those Egyptian vagabonds,who go about drumming on tambourines and telling fortunes. Nobody knows why she has such a horror of theZingari and Egyptians . But you
,Mahiette
,wherefore
should you take to your heels thus,at the mere sight of
them .
Oh said Mahiette,clasping her boy ’s head in both
her hands, I would not for the world that the samething shoul d happen to me as befel Paquette la Chantefleurie .
"
Ah ! you must tell us that story,good Mahiette,
said Gervaise, taking her by the arm .
I will ,"answered Mahiette but how ignorant you
must be in your Paris not to know that ! But we need notstop while I tell you the story . You must know then
,
that Paquette 1a Chantefleurie was a handsome gi rl of
eighteen just when I was so myself,that is
,eighteen years
ago, and it i s her own fault that she is not at this day, likeme, a hearty comely mother of six and thirty
,with a hus
band and a boy. She was the daughter o f Guybertaut,minstrel of Reims, the same that played before kingCharles VI I . at his coronation
,when he wen t down our
river Vesle from Sillery to Mui son,and the Maid of Or
lean s was in the barge with him . Baquette’s father died
while she was qui te an infant so she had onl y her mo
'rns nuncnna cx or NOTRE-DAME . 1 73
had long been wishing for a child . Her mother, goodsoul
,who had always winked at her faults, was now dead :
so that Paquette had nothing in the world to love, and none
to love her. For five years, ever since her fall, she hadbeen a miserable creature, poor Chantefleurie ! She wasalone
,alone in this life, pointed at and hocted in the
s treets , cuffed by the beadles, teased by little raggedurchins. By this time she was twenty an age at which
i t i s said, lewd women begin to be old . Her way of li fes carcely brought her in more than her needlework hadformerly done the winter had set in sharp, and wood wasagain rare on her hearth, and bread in her cupboard. She
was,of course, very sorrowful, very miserable, and her
tears wore deep channels in her cheeks . But in her de
graded and forlorn condi tion i t seemed to her that sheshould be less degraded and less forlorn, i f she had any
thing or any one in the world that she coul d love, andthat could love her. She felt that this must need s be a
child, because nothing but a child could be innocent
enough for that. I’Vomen of her class must have either a
lo ver or a child to engage their affections, or they are veryunhappy . Now as Paquette could not find a lover, sheset her whole hear t upon a child, and prayed to God nightand day for one . And he took compassion on her
,and
gave her a li ttle girl . Her joy is not to be described .
How she did hug and fondle her infant ! i t was qui te atempest o f tears and kisses . She suckled i t herself, madei t clothes ou t of her own, and thenceforward felt neithercold nor hunger. Her beauty re turned . An old maidmakes a young mother. In a short time she again betookherself to her former loose courses, and she laid out allthe money that she received on frocks and caps and laceand little satin bonnets, and all sorts of finery for herchild — Monsieur Eusta che, hav
'
n’
t I told you not to
meddle wi th that cake —It i s certain that li ttle Agnes,
that was the name given to the child at her chri steningwas more bedizened wi th ribands and embroidery than aprincess . Among other things she had a pai r of li ttleshoes
,such as I
’
ll be bound Louis X I. never had. Hermother had made and embroidered them herself with the
1 74 THE IHUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
utmost art and skill of her needle . A prettier pair of
little rose- coloured shoes was never seen . They were notlonger than my thumb
,and you must have seen the
child ’s tiny feet come out or you woul d never believe theycould go in to them . But then those feet were so small
,so
pretty, so rosy — more so than the satin of the shoes.When you have children, Oudarde, you will know thatnothing i s so pretty as those del icate li ttle feet and hands.”
I desire nothing better,said Oudarde
,with a sigh
but I must wai t ti ll i t i s the good pleasure of MonsieurAndry Musnier.
"
Paquette’
s baby,resumed Mahiette
,had not
merely handsome feet. I saw it when but four mon thsold . Oh i t was a love Her eyes were larger than hermouth
,and she had the most beautiful dark hair
,which
already began to curl. t at a superb brunette she wouldhave made at sixteen ! Her mother became every daymore and more dotingly fond of her. She hugged her
,
she kissed her,she tickled her, she washed her, she pranked
her up — she was ready to eat her. In the wildness ofher j oy she thanked God for the gift. But i t was hertiny rosy feet above all that she was never tired of admiring. She would pass whole hours in putting on them theli ttle shoes
,taking them off again
,gazing at them
,and
pressing them to her lips .The story is well enough, said Gervaise in an under
tone ; but where are the Egyptians ? ”
Why,here,
” replied Mahiette . One day a party ofvery strange- looking people on horseback arri ved at Reims.They were beggars and vagabonds
,who roved about the
coun try,headed by their duke and their counts . Their
visage was tawny ; they had curly hair; and wore silverrings in their ears . The women were uglier than the
men . Their complexion was darker. They went bareheaded a shabby mantle covered the body
,an old piece of
sackcloth was tied about the shoulders, and their hair wasl ike a horse ’s tai l. The children, who were tumblingabout upon their laps, were enough to frighten an ape.These hideous people had come so i t was saidraightway from Egypt to Reims through Poland ; the
.rnn B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 1 75
pope h'
ad confessed them,and ordered them by way of
penance to wander for seven years together through theworld without lying in a bed ; and they claim ten livrestournois of all archbishops
,bishops , and crosiered and
m i tred abbots, by virtue of a hul l of the pope . They cameto Reims to tell fortunes in the name of the king of Al
giers and the emperor of Germany . This was quiteenough
,as you may suppose
,to cause them to be forbidden
to enter the city. The whole hand then encamped withoutmore ado on the mill-hill, by the old chalk-pits, and all
Reims went to see them . They looked at your palm andforetold wonderful things . At the same time there werevarious reports about their stealing children
,cutting purses
,
and eating human flesh . Prudent persons said to the simple,Go not near them
,
’ and yet went themselves in se cret. I twas qui te the rage . The fact is , they told things which wouldhave as tonished a cardinal . Mothers were not a little proudof their children after the Egyptian s had read all sorts ofmarvels written in their hands in Pagan gibberish . One
had an emperor,another a pope
,a third a great captain.
Poor Chantefleurie was sei zed with curiosi ty ; she wasanxious to know her luck
,and whether li ttle Agnes
should one day be empress of Armenia or something ofthat sort. She carried her to the encampment of theEgyptians ; the women admired the infant, they fondledher, they kissed her with their dark lips, they were astoh ished at her tiny hand, to the no small deligh t of thepoor mother. But above all they extolled her delicate feetand her pretty lit tle shoes . The child was not quite ayear old. She had begun to li sp a word or two
,laughed at
her mother like a li ttle madcap,and was plump and fat and
played a thousand engaging antics . But she was frigh tened at the Egyptians and fell a. crying. Her motherkissed and cuddl ed her
,and away she went overjoyed at
the good- luck which the fortune- tellers had promised herAgnes . She was to be a beauty
,a virtue
,a queen . She
returned to her garret in the Rue Folle Peine qui te proudof her burden . Next day she softly slipped out for a
m oment while the infant lay asleep on the bed,leaving
the door aj ar, and ran to tell an acquaintance in the R ue
'rnn nurzcnna cx or NOTB E -DAME. 1 77
o ther, who had given herself up to the devil. He appearedto be about four years old, and talked a language whichwas not a human language such words were never beforeheard in this world . Chantefleurie snatched up the tinyshoe
, all that was left her of all that she had loved. She
lay so long, without moving, without speaking, apparen tlywithout breathing
,that every body thought she was dead.
Al l at once she trembled in every limb ; she covered the
precious reli c with passionate kisses, and burs t into a fito f sobs
,as if her heart was going to break . I assure you.
we all wept along with her. Oh,my baby said she
,
my dear li ttle baby ! where art thou ?’
I t made one’
s
heart bleed. I can’
t help crying still at the thought of i t.Our children, you see
,are as the very marrow of our
bones . O my Eustache,my poor Eustache
,if I were to
lose thee, what would become of me At length Chan tefleurie suddenly sprang up, and ran through the stree tso f Reims
,shouting
,To the camp of the Egyptian s !
Let the witches be burnt The Egyptians were gone.I t was dark night : nobody could tell which way theyhad gone. Next day
,which was Sunday
,there were
found on a heath between Gueux and Till ey, about twoleagues from Reims, the remains of a large fi re
,bi ts of
ribands which had belonged to the dress of Paquette’
s
child,and several drops of blood. There could be no
further doubt that the Egyptians had the night before heldtheir Sabbath on thi s heath, and feas ted upon the child incompany with their master
,Belzebub. When Chante
fleurie heard these horrid parti culars, she did not weep ;she moved her lips, as if to speak, but could not. Theday after her hair was quite gray
,and on the next she had
disappeared.
”
A frightful s tory,indeed,
” exclaimed Oudarde, and
enough to draw tears from a BurgundianI am no longer surp rised
,
” said Gervaise,that you
are so dreadq y afraid of the Egyptians.”
You did qui te right, replied Oudarde, to get outo f their way with Eus tache, especially as these are Egyptians from Poland.
178 THE HUNCHBACK or Norms-DAME.
Not so, said Gervaise i t i s said that they comefrom Spain and Catalonia.”
At any rate,” answere d Oudarde
,i t is certain that
they are Egyptians.”
And not les s certain, continued Gervaise, that theirteeth are long enough to eat little children . And I shouldnot be surpri sed if Smeralda were to pi ck a bi t now andthen
,though she has such a small pretty mouth. Her whi te
goat plays so many marvellous tri cks that there must besomethi ng wrong at bottom .
”
Mahiette walked on in silence. She was absorbed in thatreverie which is a sort of prolongation of a doleful s tory
,
and whi ch continues till i t has communicated its vibrationto the inmost fibres of the heart. And did you neverknow what became of Chantefleurie P
” asked Gervaise.Mahiette made no reply. Gervaise repeated the question
,
gently shaking her arm and calling her by her name.What became of Chantefleurie ? said she mechanically
repeating the words whos e impression was still fresh uponher ear . Then making an effort to recall her attention tothe sense of those wor ds : Ah i”. sa id she sharply
,i t.
was never known what became of her.”
After a pause she added ° Some said they saw herleave Reims in the dusk of the evening by the Porte Flechembaul t ; and others at daybreak by the old PorteBasée . Her gold cross was found hanging on the s tonecross in the field where the fai r is held. I t was thi s trinketthat occasioned her fall in 6 1 . I t was a presen t from thehandsome Viscoun t de Cermontreuil, her first admi rer. Pa
quette never would part wi th it, distressed as she had oftenbeen . She clung to i t as to l ife. Of course, when we heardhow and where i t was found, we all concluded that she wasdead. Yet there were person s who declared they had seenher on the road to Pari s walking barefoot upon the fiints :But
,in this case
,she must have gone out at the gate of
Vesle,and al l these accoun ts cannot be true . My own
Opinion is that she did actually go by the gate of Vesle,not only out of the town, but out of the world
I don’
t understand you, said Gervaise.
m nunonnaox or wow s -DAME . 1 79
The Vesle,replied Mahiette, with a melancholy
smile, is our river.
”
Poor Chantefieurie ! said Oudarde fsbuddering,drowned !Drowned ! replied Mahiette. Ah ! how i t would
have spoiled good father Guybertaut’s singing, while float
ing in hi s bark beneath the bridge of Tinqueux,had he
been told that his dear l i t tle Paquette would some daypassunder that same bridge
, bu t wi thout song and without bark !”
And the li ttle shoe said Gervai se.l Di sappeared with the mother,
” replied Mahiette .
Oudarde,a comely tende r-hearted woman, would ha ve
been satisfied to sigh in company with Mahiette but Gervaise
,who was of a more inquisiti ve disposi tion, had not
got to the end of her questions.And the monster ? ” said she all at once, resuming her
enquiries.t at monster ? ” asked Mahiette .
The little Egyptian monster, left by the wi tches atChantefleurie
’
s in exchange for her child. What was donewi th i t ? I hope you drowned that too .
”
0 no replied Mahiette .
Burnt then,
I suppose ? The best thing too thatcoul d be done wi th a wi tch
’
s child .
Nor that either, Gervaise . The archbishop had compassion on the Egyptian boy; he carefully took the devi lout of him, blessed him,
and sent him to Paris to be exposed in the wooden cradle at Notre-Dame as a foundling.
”
Those bishops,"said Gervaise, grumblingly, because
they are learned men, never do any thing like other people .Only think, Oudarde, to p0p the devil in to the place of thefoundlings ! for i t is qui te certain that thi s li ttle monstercould be nothing else . Well
, Mahiette,and what became
of him at Paris ? No charitabl e person would look at him ,
I reckon .
I don’t know, repli ed her country friend. Justat that time my husband bought the place of notary at.
Bern, about two league s from Reim s, and, being fully en
gaged wi th our own business, we los t sight of the matter.”
Amid such conversation the worthy trio reached the
N 2
m s nus cns acx or nora sm amn. 1 8 1
and her mouth was contracted as when a persoh‘is going
to weep . A moment afterwards she put her finger uponher lips
,and made a sign for Mahiette to come and look.
Mahiette went in silen ce and on tiptoe,as though ap
proaching the bed of a dying person . I t was in truth amelancholy sight that presented itself to the two women ,while they looked in without stirring or breathing at thebarred window of the Trou aux Rats .The cell was small, wider than deep, with coved ceil
ing,and seen from within resembled the hollow of a large
episcopal mitre . Upon the stone floor,in one angle
,a
female was seated or rather crouched . Her chin restedupon her knees
,while her arms and clasped hands encircled
her legs . Doubled up in this manner, wrapped i n browns ackclo th
,her long lank gray hair falling over her face
down to her feet,she presen ted at first sight a strange
figure standing out from the dark ground of the cell,a
sort of dun triangle which the ray entering at the windowshowed like one of those spectres seen in dreams, halfshadow and half light, pale, motionless, gloomy, coweringupon a grave or before the grating of a dungeon . I t wasneither woman
,nor man
,nor living creature ; i t had no
defini te form it was a shapeless figure,a sort of vision in
which the real and the fantastic were contras ted like ligh tand shade . Scarcely could there be distinguished underher streaming hair the forbidding profile of an attenuatedface ; scarcely did the ample robe of sackcloth which eh
folded her permi t the extremity of a bare foot to be seenpeeping from beneath i t and curling up on the hard coldpavement. The fain t likeness of the human form discernible under this garb of mourning made one shudder.This figure, whi ch you would have supposed to be im
bedded ih the stone floor, appeared to have neither motion,nor breath, nor thought. Without other clothing save thesackcloth , in the month of January
,barefoot upon a pave
ment of grani te,without fire
,in the gloom of a dungeon
,
the oblique aperture of which admitted only the chill blas tbut not the cheering sun
,she seemed not to suffer, not even
to feel. You would have thought that she had tu rnedherself to stone with the dungeon
,to i ce with the season .
N 3
1 82 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE -DAME.
Her hands were clasped, her eyes fixed . At the first glanceyou would have taken her for a spectre
,at the second for a
statue.At interval s
,however
,her livid lips opened for the pur
pose of breathing,and quivered but they looked as dead
and as will- less as leaves driven by the blast. Meanwhilethose haggard eyes cast a look
,an inefi
’
able look, a profound
,melancholy
,imperturbable look
,stedfastly fixed on
a corner of the cell which could not be seen from without ;a look whi ch seemed to connect all the gloomy thoughts ofthat affli cted spirit with some mysterious object.Such was the creature to whom was given from her garb
the familiar name of Sacky,and from her dwelling that of
the Recluse .The three women for by this time Gervai se had re
j oined Oudarde and M ahiette peeped in at the window.
Their heads intercepted the fain t light that entered thedungeon, but yet the wretched being whom they deprivedof i t appeared not to notice them . Let us not disturbher,
” said Oudarde softly she is praying.
”
Mahiette scrutinised all this time that wan, wi thered,deathlike face
,under its veil of hair, with an anxiety that
increased every moment,and her eyes filled with tears .
I t woul d indeed be most extraordinary muttered she.Putting her head between the bars of the aperture she wasenabled to see the corner upon which the eye of the unhappy recluse was sti ll rivetted. When she drew back herhead from the window
,her cheeks were bathed wi th tears.
What do you call thi s woman said she to Oudarde,who replied : W e
‘
call her Sister Gudule .For my part
,
” rej oined Mahiette,
I call her Pa
quette la Chantefieurie.
”
Then, laying her finger upon her lips, she made a sign tothe astonished Oudarde to put her head through the aperture and look. Oudarde did so
,and beheld in the corner
upon which the eye of the recluse was fixed in gloomyecstasy a tiny shoe of p ink satin, embroidered all over wi thgold and silver. Gervaise looked in after Oudarde and thethree women fell a-weeping at the sight of the unfortunatemother. Nei ther their looks
,however
,nor their tears,
m s: HUNCHB ACK or NOTB E -DAME. 1 88
were noti ced by the recluse. Her hands remained clasped,her lips mute
,her eyes fixed, and that look thus bent on
the li ttle shoe was enough to cut any one who knew hers tory to the heart.The three women ga zed without utte ring a word they
durst not speak even in a whisper. This profound silen ce,
this intense sorrow,this utter forgetfulness of all but one
object,produced upon them the effect of a high al tar at
Easter or Chri stmas . I t awed them too in to silence,into
devotion : they were ready to fall on their knees.At length Gervaise, the most inqui si tive, and of course
the least tenden hearted of the three, called to the reclu se,in hopes of making her speak, Sister Sister GuduleThri ce did she repeat the call
,raising her voice every time .
The recluse stirred not ; i t drew from her nei ther word,nor look, nor sigh, nor sign of life.
Sis ter Sister St. Gudule said Oudarde in herturn
,in a kinder and more soo thing tone. The recluse
was silen t and motionless as before .A strange woman exclaimed Gervai se . I verily
belie ve that a bombard would not wake n her.
”
Perhaps she is deaf ! said Oudarde sighing.Perhaps blind added Gervaise .Perhaps dead, ej acula ted M ahiette .
I t i s certain that if the spiri t had not yet qui tted thatinert, lethargi c, and apparen tly inanimate frame, i t had atleast retired to and shut i tself up in recesses whi ch the perceptions of the external organs coul d not reach.
What shall we do to reu se her said Oudarde .
I f we leave the cake in the window,some boy will run
away wi th i t."
Eus tache, whose attention had till this momen t beentaken up by a l i ttle cart drawn by a great dog, which hadjust passed along
,all at on ce perceived that his mother and
her friends were looking through the window at somethingand, curious to learn what i t was, he clambered upon a.
post, and thrusting hi s red chubby face in at the aperture,he cried : Only look mother ! who is that ?
At the sound of the child’s clear,fresh
,sonorous voice
N 41
m s B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME .
‘ 1 85
that in the concluding words she was again complaining ofcold Do have a fire then
,
”said she.
Fire exclaimed the recluse,in a strange tone
“and would you make one for the poor baby who hasbeen under ground these fifteen years ?Her limbs shook
,her voice trembled
,her eyes flashed
she raised herself upon her knees all at once she extendedher whi te, sk inny hand towards the boy. Take awaythat child
,
” cried she. The Egyptian will} presen tlypass.”
She then sank upon her face,and her forehead struck
the floor with a sound like that of a stone falling upon i t.The three women con cluded that she was dead . Presen tly,however, she began to stir, and they saw her crawl uponhands and knees to the corner where the li ttle shoe was .She was then out of their sight
,and 'they durst not look
after her : but they heard a thousand kisses and a thousand sighs, mingled with piercing shrieks, and dull heavythumps, as if from a head striking against a wall : at last,after one of these blows
,so violen t as to make all three
s tart,they heard nothing more .She must have killed herself ! said Gervaise, ven
turing to put her head in at the aperture . Sister !Sister GuduleSister Gudule repeated Oudarde .
Good God ! exclaimed Gervaise she does nots tir . She must be dead Gudule GuduleM ahiette
, shocked to such a degree that she couldscarcely speak, made an effort . Wait a moment
,
” saidshe . Then going close to the window
,Paquette ! she
cried, Paquette la ChantefleurieA boy who thoughtlessly blows a lighted cracker which
hangs fire, and makes i t explode in his eyes, i s not morefrightened than was M ahiette at the effect of this namethus abrup tly pronounced
.
The recluse shook all over,sprang upon her feet
,and
bounded to the window,her eyes at the same time flashing
fire, with such vehemen ce, that the three women retreatedto the parapet of the quay . The haggard face of the rebluse appeared pressed against the bars of the window.
1 86 THE HUNCHBACK os NOTRE -DAME.
Aha !”
she cried,with a horrid laugh,
’
t is the Egyptian that calls meThe scene which was jus t then passing at the pill ory
caught her eye. Her brow wrinkled wi th horror, she
s tretched bo th her skeleton arms ou t of her cell, and criedwith a voice unlike that of a human be ing : So
,i t is thou,
spawn of Egypt, i t i s thou child- s tealer, that callest me.Cursed be thou for thy pains ! cursed ! — cursed — cursed !
”
CHAPTER IV.
THE PILLORY .
THESE words were,if we may so expres s i t, the point of
j unction of two scenes which had thus far been acting contemporaneously
,each on i ts particular stage ; the one, that
which has just been detailed, at the Trou aux Rats ; theother
,which we are about to describe
,at the pillory. The
first had been witnessed only by the three females withwhom the reader has j ust made acquaintance ; the specta tors of the other consisted of the crowd which we sometime since saw collecting in the Place de Greve around thepillory and the gal lows .This crowd
,to whom the appearance of the four ser
geants posted at the four corners of the pillory ever sincenine in the morning in timated that some poor wretch wasabout to suffer
,if not capi tal punishment, yet flogging, the
loss of ears, or some other infliction— this crowd had in
creased so rapidly that the sergeants had been obliged morethan once to keep i t back by means of their horses
’
heelsand the free u se of their whips.The mob
,accustomed to wait whole hours for publi c exe
cu tions,did not manifest any vehement impatience. They
amused themselves with gazing at the pill ory,a very simple
contri vance,consisting of a cube of masonry some ten feet
high,hollow within . A rude flight of s teps of rough stone
led to the upper platform, upon which was seen a hori zontal
'rnn HUNOHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME . 1 87
wheel of oak . Upon this wheel the culpri t was bound uponhis knees and with his hands tied behind him. An axle oftimber
,moved by a capstan concealed from sight within
the little building,caused the wheel to revolve in the hori
z ontal plane,and thus exhibited the culpri t’s face to every
poin t of the place in succession . This was called turninga criminal.Thus
,you see, the pillory of the Greve was by no means
so interesting an objec t as the pillory of the Halles. Therewas nothing archi tectural
,nothing monumenta l about i t
i t had no roof with iron cross, no octagon lan tern , no slenderpillars spreading at the margin of the roof into capi tals ofacanthi and flowers
,no fantastic and monstrous water
spouts, no carved wood-work, no delicate sculpture deeplycut in stone.Here the eye was forced to be con tent wi th four flat walls
and two buttresses of unhewn stone,and a plain bare gibbe t,
likewise of stone, standing beside i t. The treat would havebeen a sorry one for the lovers of Gothic architecture . I ti s true
,however
,that no people ever held works of art in
less estimation than the Pari sian populace in the middleages, and that they cared not a pin about the beauty of apil lory.The culprit, tied to the tai l of a cart, was at length
brought forward and when he had been hoisted upon the
platform,where he could be seen from all points of the Place,
bound with cords and thongs upon the wheel of the p illory,a prodigious booting, mingled with laughter and acolamations, burst from the
'
mob . They had recognised Quasimodo .
I t was a strange reverse for the poor fellow to be pilloriedon the same spot
,where the preceding day he had been
hailed and proclaimed Pope and Prince of Fools, escortedby the Duke of Egypt, the King of Thunes, and the Emperor of Galilee. So much is certain, that there was not acreature in that con course
,not even himself
,alternately the
object of triumph and of punishmen t,who could clearly
make ou t the connection between the two situations . Grin
goire and his philosophy were lacking to the spectacle .Presently Mi chel Noiret
,sworn trumpe ter of our lord the
'rnn HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAM E. 1 89
shirt as high as the elbow. At length he stamped withhis foot . The wheel began to turn . Quasimodo shook inhis bonds. The am azemen t suddenly expressed in his
hideous . face drew fresh shouts of laughter from the
specta tors .All at once
,at the momen t when the wheel in its revo
lution presented the mountain- shoulders of Quasimodo toMaster Pierrat
,he raised his arm ; the thin lashes hissed
sharply in the air like so many vipers,and descended with
fury upon the back of the unlucky wight.Quasimodo started like one awakened from a dream . He
began to comprehend the meaning of the scene,he writhed
in his bonds ; a violent contraction of surprise and paindistorted the muscles of his face, but he heaved not a singlesigh . He merely turned his head
,first one way, then the
other, balancing i t the while, like a bull s tung in the flankby a gadfly.
A second stroke succeeded the first,then came a third
,
and another, and another. The wheel continued to turnand the blows to fall. The blood began to trickle in ahundred li ttle streams down the swart shoulders of thehunchback and the slender thongs , whistling in the airin their rotation, sprinkled i t in drops over the gapingcrowd.Quasimodo had relapsed, in appearance at least, in to his
former apathy . He had endeavoured,at first quietly and
without great external effort,to burst his bonds. H is eye
was seen to flash, his muscles to swell, his limbs to gatherthemselves up, and the thongs, cords, and chains to stretch .
The effort was mighty,prodigious
,desperate but the old
shackles of the provost proved too tough . They crackedand that was all. Quasimodo sank down exhausted. Stuporgave place in his countenance to an expression of deepdespontlency. He closed his only eye
,dropped his head
upo n his breast, and counterfei ted death .
Thenceforward he stirred not. Nothing could make himflinch — neither the blood which oozed from hi s lacerate dback, nor the lashes which fell with redoubled force, northe fury of the executioner
,rous ed and heated by the ex
ex cise, nor the hissing and whiz zing of the horrible thongs.
190 THE B UNCHBAOK os NOTRE-DAME .
At length an usher of the Chatelet,habited in black
,and
mounted upon a black horse, who had taken his s tation bythe s teps at the commencemen t of the .flogging, ex tendedhis ebony wand towards the hour-glass. The executionerheld his hand the wheel stepped Quasimodo
’s eye slowlyopened.
Two attendants of the sworn tormen tor’
s washed the'
bleeding back of the sufferer, rubbed i t with a sort of ointment
,which in an incredibly short time closed all the
wounds, and threw over him a kind of yellow frock shapedlike a priest
’
s Cope while Pierrat Torterue drew throughhis fingers the thongs saturated wi th blood which he shockof? upon the pavement .Quasimodo
’
s punishmen t was not yet over. He hadstill to remain in the pillory that hour whi ch Master FlorianBarbedienne had so j udiciously added to the sentence ofMessire Robert d
’
Estou tevil le to the great glory of theold physiological and psychological pun Surdus absurd/us .
The hour-glass was therefore turned,and the hunchback
left bound as before,that justice might be fully sati sfied .
The populace, especial ly in a half- civili zed aara, are insociety what the boy is in a family. So long as they continne in this sta te of primitive ignoran ce
,of moral and in
tellectual minority, so long you may say of them as of themischievous urchin That age is without pity .
” Wehave already shown that Quasimodo was generally hated,for more than one good reason
,i t i s true. There was
scarcely a spectator among the crowd, but ei ther had orimagined that he had ground to complain of the mali cioushunchback of Notre-Dame. His appearance in the pilloryhad exci ted universal j oy and the severe punishmentwhich he had undergone
,and the pitiful condition in whi ch
i t had left him,so far from s oftening the populace, had
but rendered their hatred more maligna nt by arming i t withthe
'
s ting of mirth .
Thus when the publ i c vengeance was once satisfiedaccording to the jargon still used by gownsmen — it was
the turn of private revenge to seek gratification . Here, asin the
himgre
athall
,the women were most vehement. All
bore h1m some grudge some for his mi schievous dis
'rnE HUNCHBACK or NO TRE-DAME. 191
posi tion,and others for hi s ugliness : the latter were the
most furious . A shower of abuse was poured upon him,
accompanied by hootings , and imprecations, and laughter,and here and there by stones .Quasimodo was deaf
,but he was sharp-sighted, and the
fury of the populace was expressed not les s energeticallyin their countenances than in their words . Besides
,the
pelting of the s tones explained the meaning of the burstsof laughter. This annoyance passed for a while unheededbut by degrees that patien ce, which had braced i tse lf upunder the lash of the executioner, gave way under all thesestings of petty insects . The hull of the Asturias
,which
scarcely deigns to notice the attacks of the picador,i s ex
asperated by the dogs and the banderillos .At first he slowly rolled around a look of menace at
the crowd ; but, shackled as he was, this look could not
drive away the fl ies which galled his wound . He thenstruggled in hi s bonds
,and his furious contortions made
the old wheel of the pill ory creak upon its axis. Thisserved only to increase the j eers and the derisions of thepopulace.The wretched sufferer, finding
,like a chained beas t
,
tha t he could not break his collar,again became quiet
though at times a sigh of rage heaved al l the cavi ties ofhis chest. Not a blush, not a trace of shame, was to be ,
discerned in hi s face . He was too far from the socials tate and too near to the state of natu re to know whatshame is. Besides, i s i t possible that disgrace can be feltby one cast in a mould of such extreme deformi ty Butrage, hatred, despair, slowly spread over that hideous facea cloud whi ch graduall y be came more and more black
,
more and more charged with an electricity that dar tedin a thous and flashes from the eye of the Cyclop .This cloud
,however
,cleared off for a moment at the
appearance of a mule bearing a priest. The instant hecaught a glimpse of this mule and thi s priest in the di stance, the face of the poor sufl
’
erer assumed a look of
gentleness . The rage which had .contmcted i t was succeeded by a strange smile, ful l of inefi
’
able meekness,
kindness, tenderness . As the priest approached this smile
'rnn HUNOHBACK or Norms -DAME. 1 93
anx ious eye, and repeated in a voice more rugged thanbefore : Water He was answered with peals of laughter.There is water for thee, deaf varlet, cried Robin
Poussepain throwing in his face a sponge soaked in thekennel. I am in thy debt.
”
A woman hurled a s tone at his head. That wil l teachthee
‘
to waken us at night,” said she
,with thy cursed
bell s .”
Take that to drink thy liquor out of shouted afellow
,throwing at him a broken jug, which hi t him upon
the chest. I t was the sight of thy frightful figure thatmade my wife have a child with two heads .Water roared the panting Quasimodo for the third
time.A t that moment he saw the populace make way . A
young female,in a strange garb. approached the pillory .
She was followed by a little whi te goat,with gilt horns
,
and carried a tambourine in her hand. Quasimodo’s eyesparkled. I t was the Bohemian whom he had attemptedto carry off the preceding night, and he had a confusednotion that for this prank he was suffering his presepunishment
,though in fact i t was because he had th
misfortune to be deaf and to be tried by a deaf judge,H e thought that she was coming to take revenge al so
,and
to give him her blow as well as the rest.He watched her with nimble foot
'
ascend the s teps .He was choked with rage ah
/
dyex ation. Had the lightn ing of his eye possessed the power, i t would have blastedthe Egyptian before she reached the platform . Withoututtering a word she approached the sufferer
,who vainly
wri thed to avoid her ; and loosing a gourd from her girdle,she gently lifted i t to the parched lips of the exhaustedwretch . A big tear was seen to start from hi s dry andblood shot eye, and to trickle slowly down his deformedface so long contracted by despair. I t was perhaps thefi rst that he had shed since he arrived at manhood.Meanwhile he forgot to drink. The Egyptian pouted
her pretty lip with impatien ce,and then put the neck
0
194 m u HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
of the gourd between Quasimodo’s j agged teeth he drank
greedily, for hi s thi rst was extreme.When he had finished the hun chback protruded his
dark lips, no doubt to kiss the kind hand which had
brought so welcome a relief : but the damsel, perhaps recolleeting the violen t assault of the foregoing night
,quickly
drew back her hand with the same start of terror that achil d does from a dog which he fears will bite him . Thepoor fellow then fixed on her a look full of reproach and
unutterable woe .
Under any circumstances i t would have been a touchingsight to see thi s girl, so fresh, so pure, so lovely, and atthe same time so weak, humanely hastening to the reliefof so much distress
,deformity
,and malice. On a pillory,
this sight was sublime. The populace themselves weremoved by i t, and began clapping their hands and shouting,Huzza huzzaI t was precisely at this moment that the recluse
ceived from the window of her den the Egyptian on thepillory
,and pronounced upon her that bi tter imprecation
Cursed be thou,spawn of Egypt cursed ! cursed
cursedLa E smeralda turned pale
,and with faltering step
descended from the pillory . The voice of the recluse stillpursued her Get thee down ! get thee down
,Egyptian
child- stealer ! thou wilt have to go up again one of thesedays !
”
Sacky is in her vagaries to-day, said the people
grumbling : and that was all they did. Women of herclass were then deemed holy and reverenced accordingly.Nobody liked to attack persons who were praying nightand day .The time of Quasimodo
’
s punishment having expired,he was released, and the mob dispersed.
Mahiette and her two companions had reached the foo tof the Grand Pont on their return, when she suddenlystopped short. Bless me she exclaimed
,what has
become of the cake, Eustache ?
Mother,
” said the boy,whil e you were talking wi th
THE HUNCHBACK or Norri s -Damn. 197
the woman in that dark hole, a big dog came and busts ;great piece out of it, so I a te some too.
What,sir
,
”she asked
,have you eaten i t all ?
I t was the dog, mother. I told him to let i t alone,
but he didn’
t mind me so I j ust took a bi te too .
”
’T is a sad greedy boy said his mother smiling andscolding at once. Look you
, Oudarde, not a cherry oran apple in our garden is safe from him ; so hi s grandfather says he will make a rare captain . I
’
ll trim you
well,Master Eustache ! — Go you greedy gl utton !
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 197
petticoats,which surpassed that of thei r upper garments ;
by the gauze,the silk, the velvet, wi th which thei r dress
was trimmed ; and above all by the whiteness of thei rhands
,whi ch showed them to be unused to labour i t was
easy to guess that they belonged to noble and weal thyfamilies . I t was
,in fact
,Damoiselle Fleur de Lys de Gon
delaurier and her companions,Diane de Christeuil, Ame
lotte de Montmichel,Colombe de Gaillefontaine
,and li ttle
de Champchevrier, who were staying at the house of theDame de Gondelaurier, a widow lady, on accoun t of theexpected visit of Monseigneur de Beaujeu and hi s consort
,
who were to come to Paris in April, fdr the purpose of
selecting ladies of honour for the dauphine ss Marguerite .Now all the gen try for a hundred miles round wereanxious to obtain thi s favou r for their daughters andwith this view numbers had already brought or sen t themto Paris . Those mentioned above had been placed by theirparents under the care of the discreet and venerable DameAloise de Gondelaurier, widow of an offi cer of the King
’
scross-bowmen
,who resided with her only daughter i n her
own house in the Place du Parvis .The balcony adj oined an apartment hung with ri ch
fawn- coloured Flanders leather,stamped with gold borders.
The parallel beams which crossed the cei ling amused theeye by a thousand grotesque carvings
,pain ted and gil t.
On richly carved coffers were here and there blazonedsplendid coats of arms while a boar’s head in Delft warecrowned a magnificent buffet, indi cating that the mistressof the house was the wife or widow of a knight-banneret.At the farther end, by a high fireplace, surrounded withescutcheons and armorial insignia, sat, in a ri ch arm - chairof crimson velvet, the Dame de Gondelaurier,
’
whose age offifty-five years was as legibly inscribed upon her dress asupon her face . By her side s tood a young man
,of a bold
bu t somewhat vain and swaggering look — one of thosehandsome fellows to whom all the women take a liking,though the grave man and the physiognomis t shrug thei rshoulders at them. This young cavalier wore the bril lian tuniform of captain of the archers of the King
’
s ordnan ce,
which so closely resembles the costume of Jupite r described0 3
1 98 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
at the outse t of this history that we need not tire thereader with a second description of i t.The damsels were seated partly in the room , partly in
the balcony,some on cushions of Utrecht velvet, others
On oaken stools,carved with flowers and figures. Each of
them held on her lap a portion of a large piece of tapestry,on which they were all working together, whil e the otherpart lay upon the matting that covered the floor.They were chatting together, in that low tone and with
those ti tters so common in a party of young females whenthere is a young man among them. He whose presencewas sufficien t to set at work the self- love of all this youthful company, appeared himself - to care very li ttle abouti t : and
,while these beautiful girls‘ were each striving to eu
gage his atten tion,he seemed to be busily engaged himself
in polishing the buckle of his belt wi th his leathern glove.Now and then the old lady spoke to him in a very low
tone, and he answered as well as he coul d, with a sort ofawkward and forced politeness . From her smiles
,from
various other little significant tokens, and from the nodsand winks which Dame Aloise directed towards her daughter, Fleur de Lys, while softly speaking to the captain, i twas easy to see that he was an accepted lover, and that amatch was on foot and would no doubt be speedily concluded between the young offi cer and Fleur de Lys. I twas easy too to see from hi s coldness and embarrassmentthat, on his side at least
,i t was any thing but a love
match . The good lady, who, fond mother as she was,doted upon her daughter
,did not perceive the indifference
of the captain,and strove by her words and gestures to
make him noti ce the grace with which Fleur de Lys pliedher needl e or her distaff.Look
,nephew
,
” said she, plucking him by the sleeve,in order to whi sper in his ear look at her now,
as shestoops .”
Yes, indeed,”replied the young man, relapsing in to
his former cold and irksome silen ce.A moment afterwards he was required to stoop again .
Did you ever,” said Dame Al oise, behold a comelier
or genteeler girl than your intended ? I s i t possible to be
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE -DAME. 199
fairer ? Are not her hands and arms perfect models andher neck
,has i t not all the elegan ce of a swan ’s
No doubt, he replied, thinking of something else allthe while.Why don’t you go and talk to her then ?
”retorted
the lady,pushing him towards Fleur de Lys . Go and
say something to her. You are grown mighty shy all atonce .Now we can assure the reader that neither shyness normodesty were to be numbered among the captain
’
s defects .He attempted
,however
,to do as he was desired .
Fair cousin ,” said he, stepping up to Fleur de Lys,
what i s the subj ect of thi s tapestry whi ch you are working
Fai r cousin,answered Fleur de Lys
,i n a peevish
tone,
I have told you three times already that i t i s thegrotto of Neptune.I t was evident that the captain’s cold and absen t man
ner had not escaped the keen observation of Fleur de Lys,though it was not perceived by her mother. He felt thenecessity of making an attempt at conversation .
And what i s i t intended for ? he enquired.For the abbey of St. Antoine des Champs,
”replied
Fl eur de Lys, without raising her eyes.The captain lifted up a corner of the tapestry. And
pray,my fair cousin , said he, who is thi s big fellow,
in the disguise of a fish, blowing the trumpet wi th puffedout cheeks ? ”
That is Tri ton,answered she .
In the tone of Fleur de Lys’ brief replies there wass til l something that betokened displeasure. The captainwas more and more at a loss what to say . He stoopeddown over the tapestry . A charming piece of work
,by
my fay cried he.At this exclamation
,Colombe de Gaillefon taine, another
beau tiful girl, of a deli cately fai r complexion, in a dress ofblue damask
,timidly ventured to address a question to
Fleur de Lys, in the h0pe that the handsome captainwoul d answer i t. My dear Gondelaurier,
” said she,o 4
run HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME. 201
still paid occasional visi ts to his relatives,from a sligh t
feeling of human respect that was still left him,he found
himself doubly embarrassed when he called upon Fleur deLys in the first place because be distribu ted his love sopromiscuously that he reserved a very small portion of i tfor her ; and in the second, because in the company of so
many handsome,well-bred
,and modest females he was
under constan t apprehension lest his tongue, habituated tooaths and imprecations
,should all at once get the better of
the rein and launch ou t in to the language of the tavern .
Highly did he pique himself withal upon elegance indress and appointments
,and comeliness of person . The
reader must reconcile these things as wel l as he can : I ambut the historian.The captain
,then , had stood for some moments, lost in
thought, or not thinking at all , leaning in silence on thecarved mantelpiece
,when Fleur de Lys
,suddenly turning
round addressed him . After all,i t wen t sorely against the
grai n with the poor girl to pout at him .
Did you not tell us, cousin, of a little Bohemian,whom you rescued one night
,about two months ago, from
the hands of a dozen robbers ? ”
I think I did,cousin
,
” replied the captain .I should not wonder, she resumed, if i t was the
Bohemian dancing yonder in the Parvis. Come and see
whether you know her, cousin Phoebus.”
In this gentle invitation to come to her and the tone inwhich i t was uttered he detected a secret desire of reconciliation . Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers — for this isthe personage whom the reader has had before him sin cethe commencement of thi s chapter — advan ced with slowsteps towards the balcony . Look
,said Fleur de Lys,
softly grasping the capta in’s arm look at you girl
dancing in that circle I s she your BohemianPhoebus looked. Yes
,
” said he,
I know her byher goat.”
Oh ! what a pretty li ttle goat exclaimed Amelotte,clapping her hands in admiration .
Are i ts horns of real gold ?” asked Berangere .
Godmother,”she began again, having all at once
202 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
raised her bright'
eyes,which were in
'
constant motion, tothe top of the towers of Notre-Dame who i s that manin black up yonderAl l the young ladies looked up. A man was indeed
lolling upon his elbows on the topmost balus trade of thenorthern tower
,overlooking the Greve . I t was a priest,
as might be known by his dress, which was clearly di s.tinguishable, and his head was supported by both hishands . He was motionless as a statue. His eye wasfixed on the Place as intently as that of a hawk on a s tarling’s nest which it has di scovered.
’T i s the archdeacon of Josas,
” said Fleur de Lys.You must have good eyes to know him at this di s
tance,” observed Gaillefontaine.How he looks at the dancing girl exclaimed Diane
de Chris teuil .Let the Egyptian take care of herself ! ” said Fleur
de Lys. The archdeacon is not fond of Egypt.’T i s a pi ty that man looks at her so
,
” added Amelotte
de Montmichel for she dances delightfully.”
Good cousin Phoebus,abruptly cried Fleur de Lys;
since you know this Bohemian,just call her up . I t will
amuse u s .
”
Yes,do ! ” exclaimed all the young ladies, clapping
their hands.Where is the use of i t ? rej oined Phte bus . She
has no doubt forgotten me,and I know not even her name.
However, as you wish it, ladies, I will try .
” Leaning overthe bal ustrade of the balcony, he called ou t My
girlThe dancer had paused for a moment. She turned her
head in the direction from which the voice proceeded herspark ling eye fell upon Phoebus
,and she s tood motionless.
My girl ! ” repeated the captain, beckoning her tocome to him .
The girl still locked stedfastly at him she then blusheddeeply
,as if every drop of her blood had rushed to her
cheeks,and
,taking her ‘ tambourine under her arm,
she
made her way through the circle of astonished spectatorstowards the house to which shewas
‘summoned, with slow,
rm : HUNOH BACK or NOTRE-DAME. 203
faltering step,and wi th the agitated look of s h ind nnable
to withstand the fas cination—o f a serpent,
A moment afterwards the tapestry hung before the doorwas raised, and the Bohemian appeared at the thresholdof the apartment, ou t of breath
,flushed
,flurried, wi th
her large eyes fixed on the floor she durst not advan ce as tep further. Berangere clapped her hands .Meanwhile the dancer stood motionless at the door of
the room . Her appearan ce had produced a singular effectupon the party of young ladies. I t i s certain that all ofthem were more or less influenced by a certain vague andindistin ct desire of pleasing the handsome oflicer ; that thesplendid uniform was the point at whi ch all their coquetrieswere aimed ; and that ever since his entrance there had beena sort of secret ri val ry among them
,of whi ch they were
themselves scarcely conscious,but which nevertheless be
trayed i tself every moment in all they said and did . A s,
however,they all possessed nearly the same degree of
beauty,they fought wi th equal weapons
,and each migh t
cheri sh a hope of victory. The coming of the Bohemiansuddenly destroyed thi s equilibrium . Her beauty was sosurpassing
,that at the momen t when she appeared at the
entrance of the room,she seemed to shed over i t a sort of
light peculiar to herself. In this close apartment,over
shadowed by hangings and carvings,she appeared incom
parably more beautiful and radiant than in the publi cplace like a torch whi ch is carried ou t of the broad daylight into the dark . In spi te of themselves, the youngladies were dazzled. Each felt wounded
,as i t were
,in
her beauty . Their battle- front reader,excus e the term
was changed accordingly,though not a single word
passed between them . The instincts of women apprehendand answer one another much more readily than the nuders tandings of men . An enemy had come upon them of
thi s they were all sensible, and therefore they all ralli ed .
One drop of wine is suffi cient to redden a whole glass ofwater : to tinge a whole company of handsome womenwith a certain degree of ill-humour merely introduce afemale of superior beauty
,especiall y when there i s but one
man in the party .
'ran HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 205
from some festival or other. What the devil did that owlof a fellow want wi th you, hey ?
”
I don ’t know,” answered she .
Curse his impudence — a . rascally bell- ringer run
away with a girl like a viscount ! A common fellow poachon the game o f gentlemen ! Who ever heard of such athing ! But he paid dearly for i t. Master Pierrat Torterue is the roughest groom that ever trimmed a varlet ;and I assure you
,i f that can do you any good, he curried
the bell-ringer’s hide most soundly .
”
Poor fellow said the Bohemian, who at the captain’s
words could not help call ing to mind the scene at the pillory.Zounds cried the captain
,laughing outright,
“ thatpi ty is as well bestowed as a feather on a pig’s rump . MayI be He stopped short. I beg pardon ladies,I had like to have forgotten myself.Fie
,sir said Gaillefontaine.
He is only talking to that creature in her own language
,
” said Fleur de Lys in an under- tone , her vexationincreasing every moment. Nor was i t diminished when shesaw the captain
,enchan ted with the Bohemian and still
more with himself,make a pirouette
,repeating wi th blunt
soldierlike gallantry : A fine girl,upon my soul !
But very uncouthly dressed,
” said Diane de Christeuil
,grinning and showing her beautiful teeth .
This remark was a new light to her companions . I tshowed them the assailable side of the Egyptian ; as theycould not carp at her beauty, they fell foul of her dress .
How comes i t,my girl
,
”said Montmichel
,that you
run about the s treets in this manner,wi thout neckerchief
or stomacherAnd then , what a short petti coat exclaimed Gaill e
fontaine. Quite shocking,I declare !
My dear,said Fleur de Lys
,in a tone of any thing
but kindness, the officers of the Chatelet will take you upfor wearing that gil t belt.”
My girl, resumed Christeuil, witha bitter smile, “ifyou were to cover your arms decently wi th sleeves, theywould not be so sunburnt.
"
I t was in truth a sight worthy of a more intelligent spec
206 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE -DAME .
tator than Phoebus, to see how these fair damsels, with theirkeen and envenomed tongues , twisted, glided, and wri thed,around the dancing-girl ; they were at once cruel and graceful ; they spitefully fell foul of her poor but whimsi caltoilet of tinsel and spangles. There was no end to thei rlaughs
,and j eers, and sarcasms. You would have taken
them for some of those young Roman ladies,who amused
themselves with thrusting gold pins into the breasts of abeautiful slave ; or they might be likened to elegant greyhounds
,turning, with distended nostrils and glaring eyes,
round a poor fawn, which the look of their master forbidsthem to devour.What after all was a poor street-dancer to these scions
of di s tinguished families ! They seemed to take no account of her presence
,and talked of her before her face
,
and even to herself,as of an object at once very dis
gusting, very mean, and very pretty.The Bohemian was not insensible to their s tinging re
marks. From time to time the glow of shame or theflash of anger flushed her cheek or li t up her eye a disdainful word seemed to hover upon her lips her con temptexpressed itself in that pout wi th which the reader is already acquainted ; but she stood motionle ss, fixing uponPhoebus a look of resignation, sadness, and good- nature.In that look there was also an expression of tendernessand anxiety. You woul d have said that she restrainedher feelings for fear of being turned ou t.Meanwhile Phoebus laughed and began to take the part
of the Bohemian,with a mixture of impertinence and
pi ty. Let them talk as they l ike, my dear, said he,clanking his gold spurs your dress is certainly somewhat whimsical and out of the way, but, for such acharming creature as you are, what does that signify ?
Dear me exclaimed the fair Gaillefontaine, bridl ingup
,with a sarcastic smile
,how soon the gentlemen
archers of the King’s ordnance take fire at bright Egyptian eyes ! ”
Why not P said Phoebus.At thi s reply
,carelessly uttered by the captain, Colombe
laughed, so did Diane, so did Amelotte, so did Fleur de
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE -DAME . 207
Lys, though i t i s tru e that a tear star ted at the same timeinto the eye of the latter. The Bohemian, who had hungdown her head at the remark of Colombe de Gaillefontaine
,raised her eyes gli stening with joy and pride, and
again fixed them on Phoebus. She was passing beauti fula t that moment.The old lady
,who watched this scene, fel t offended,
though she knew not why . Holy Virgin ! ” cried she
all at once,what have I got about me ? Ah ! the nasty
beast ! ”
I t was the goat which, in springing towards her m is
tress had entangled her horns in the load of draperywhich fell upon the fee t of the noble lady when she wasseated. This was a diversion . The Bohemian wi thoutsaying a word disengaged the animal.
Oh here is the pretty li ttle goat with golden feetcried Berangere, leaping for joy .The Bohemian crouched upon her knees
,and pressed
her check against the head of the fondling goat, whileDiane, stooping to the ear of Colombe
,whispered
How very stupid of me not to think of i t sooner !Why, i t i s the Egyptian with the goa t. I t i s reportedthat she is a witch
,and that her goat performs tri cks ah
solutely miraculous .Well,
” said Colombe, the goat must perform one
of i ts miracles and amuse us in i ts turn .
”
Diane and Colombe eagerly addressed the Egyptian .My girl
,
” said they,make your goat perform a miracle
for us .I know not what you mean, replied the dan cer.A miracle, a piece of magic, or witchcraft, in short.
”
r I don ’t understand you,” she rej oined and again
began fondling the pretty creature, repeating, Dj ali !Dj aliAt this moment Fleur de Lys remarked a small em
broidered leathern bag hung round the neck of the goat.What is that P she asked the Egyptian .
The girl rai sed her large eyes towards her and gravelyanswered That is my secret.”
Tm : HUNCHBACK or norm s-DAME . 209
Fleur de Lys ran to her and shuddered. The letterswhich the goat had arranged upon the floor formed the
namePHG BUS.
Was i t the goat that did this ? she asked in atremulous voice.Yes
,indeed it was
,godmother, replied Berangere.
It was impossible to doubt the fact.The secret i s out, thought Fleur de Lys .At the outcry of the child, all who were present, the
mother and the young ladies, and the Bohemian, and theoffi cer
,hastened to the spot . The dancing-girl saw at once
what a slippery trick the goat had played her. She changedcolour
,and began to tremble
,like one who had committed
some crime,before the captain, who eyed her with a smile
of astonishment and gratification .
For a moment the young ladies were struck dumb .
Phoebus they at length whispered one another,why
,
that is the name of the captain ! ”
You have a wonderful memory,said Fleur de Lys to
the petrified Bohemian . Then bursting into sobs,Oh
she stammered, in a tone of angui sh, covering her facewi th both her fair hands
,she is a sorceress the whi le
a voice,in still more thril ling accents , cried in the recesses
of her heart She is a ri val She sank fain ting onthe floor.
My daughter my daughter shrieked the affrightedmother. Get thee gone
,child of perdition said she to
the Bohemian .
La Esmeral da picked up the unlucky letters in the
twinkling of an eye, m ade a sign to her Djali, and retiredat one door, while Fleur de Lys was borne away byanother .
Captain Phte bus,being left by himself
,wavered for a
moment between the two doors, and then followed thegipsy girl .
2 10 m s HUNCHBACK op NOTRE-DAME.
CHAPTER I I .
A PRIEST AND A PH ILOSOPHER A R E TW O D IFFERENTPERSONS.
THE priest, whom the young ladies had observed on the topof the north tower s tooping over the Place, and inten tlywatching the motions of the Bohemian
,was in fact the
Archdeacon Claude Frollo .Our readers have not forgotten the mysterious cell whichthe archdeacon had reserved for himself in that tower. Iknow not
,be i t remarked by the way, whether this is not
the same cell , the interior of which may still be seenthrough a small square aperture on the east side
,at about
the height of a man, on the platform from which thetowers rise. I t i s a small room
,naked
,empty
,dilapidated
,
the ill-plastered walls of which are at the present dayadorned with yellow engravings representing the fronts ofcathedrals. This hole is
,I presume, inhabited conjoin tly
by bats and spiders, and consequently a double war ofextermination is carried on there agains t the unfortunatefl ies.Every day, an hour before sunset, the archdeacon as
cended the staircase of the tower, and shut himself up inthis cell, where b e frequently passed whole nights. On
this day,just as he had reached the low door of his retreat
,
and put into the lock the little complicated key which healways carried with him in the pouch hanging at his side,the sounds of a tambourine and castagnette s struck his ear.These sounds came from the Place du Parvi s . The cell
,
as we have already stated, had but one window,looking
upon the roof of the church . Claude Frollo hastily with:drew the key, and the next moment he was on the t0p of
the tower,in the atti tude of profound reverie in which the
young ladies had perceived him .
There he was,grave, motionless, absorbed all eye
,all
ear,all thought. All Paris was at his feet, wi th the thou
r a n nux cnnaox or NOTRE-DAME . 2 1 1
sand spires of i ts buildings, and its circular hori zon of
gen tle hills, wi th its ri ver winding beneath i ts bridges,and i ts population pouring th rough i ts streets, with itscloud of smoke, and its mountain - chain of roofs, crowding close upon Notre-Dame
,with their double slopes of
mail ; but in this whole ci ty the archdeacon’s eye sought
but one poin t of the pavement, the Place du Parvis, andamong the whole mul ti tude but one figure, the Bohemian .
I t would have been difficul t to decide what was thenature of that look , and of the fire that flashed from i t.I t was a fixed look
,but full of tumul t and perturbation .
And yet,from the profound quiescence of his whole body
,
scarcely shaken now and then by a mechanical shudder,as
a tree by the wind ; from the stiffness of his arms, moremarble- like than the balustrade upon which they leant ;from the petrified smile which contracted his face, youwould have said that C laude Froll o had nothing alive abouthim but his eyes.The Bohemian was dancing ; she made her tambourine
spin round on the tip of her finger,and threw i t up in the
air while she danced Provencal sarabands— light
,agile
,
j oyous, and not aware of the weight of that formidablelook which fell plump upon her head .
The crowd thronged around her : from time to timea man habited in a yellow and red loose coat wen tround the circle of specta tors to keep them back he thenseated himself in a chair, at the distance of a few pacesfrom the dancer, taking the head of the goat upon hisknees . This man seemed to be the companion of theBohemian but Claude Frollo coul d not from his elevateds ta tion distinguish his features.From the moment that the archdeacon perceived thi s
stranger, his attention seemed to be divided between thedancer and him, and the gloom whi ch overspread hiscountenance became deeper and deeper. All at once, hes tarted up, and a thrill shook his whole frame. Whocan that man be .
P he muttered till now I have alwaysseen her alone .
He then darted beneath the winding vaul t of the spirals taircase and descended. In pass ing the door of the belfry
P 2
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME . 2 1 3
hims elf of the confusion to slip away to the church afterthe archdea con, who had moti oned him to follow.
The ca thedral was already dark and deserted, and thelamps in the chapels began to twinkle like stars amids t thegloom . The great rose-window of the front alone, whosethousand colours were li t up by a ray of the hori zontalsun
,glis tened in the dark hke a cluster of diamonds, and
threw its dazzling reflection on the farther extremity ofthe nave.After they had advanced a few steps from the entrance,
Dom C laude,s topping short wi th his back against a pillar
,
looked steadfastly at Gringoire . I n this look there wasnothing to exci te dread in Gringoire, deeply as he wasashamed of having been caught by a grave and learnedpersonage in that merry- andrew garb . The look of thepriest had in i t nothing sarcasti c or ironi cal ; i t was serious
, calm,and piercing. The archdeacon first broke
silence .Come hither
,Master Pierre . There are many things
which I wan t you to explain . I n the first place, howhappens i t that I have not seen you for these two months,and that I find you in the public streets
,i n goodly garb
forsooth, half red and half yellow, like a Caudebec appleMessire
,
” dolefully replied Gringoire,
“i t is indeed astrange accoutremen t ; and one in which I feel about ascomfortable as a cat in a cocoanu t—shell ca
’
T is a sadthing, I admit, to lef fli e gefiflm
’ivatch run therisk of belabouring under this sorry disguise the shoul dersof a Pythagorean phi losopher. But how can I help i t
,
my reve rend master ? The blame rests with my old coat,
which basely forsook me in the depth of win ter,upon
pretext that i t was dropping to tatters . t at could Ido ? C ivili sation i s not yet so far advanced that one maygo s tark naked, as Diogenes of old wished to do . Besides,a very keen wind was blowing at the time
,and the month
of January is not a likely season to attempt to introducethis new fashion with any hope of success . This wrapperofl
'
ered i tself ; I took i t, and gave up my old black frock,whi ch, for an hermetic philosopher like me, was far frombeing hermetically close. So here I am in mountebank
’
sP 3
2 14 m s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
garb, like S t. Genest .’
T i s an eclipse, to be sure. ButApollo
,you know
,tended swine for Admetus .
A respectable profession truly,this that you have
taken up !”replied the archdeacon
I al low,master
,that i t is better to philosophise or
poetise,to blow up the flame in the furnace or to receive
i t from heaven,than to carry cats about the streets . Ao
cordingly, when I heard your exclamation, I was struckas comical as an ass before a spit . But what would youhave
,Messire ? A poor devi l must live one day as well as
another and the finest Alexandrines that ever were penned cannot stay the hungry stomach so well as a crust ofbread. You know
,for example
,that famous epithala
mium which I composed for Madame Margaret of Flanders
,and the Ci ty refuses to pay me for i t on the ground
that i t was not good enough,as if one could furnish tra
gedies like th ose of Sophocles at four crowns apiece. Ofcourse
,I was ready to perish with hunger. Luckily, I
knew that I was pretty strong in the j aw,so says I to this
jaw Try feats of strength and balancing work andkeep thyself. A band of beggars, who are my very goodfriends, have taught me twenty different herculean feats,and now I gi ve to my teeth every nigh t the bread whichthey have helped to earn in the day . After all
,I grant
that i t i s a sorry employment of my intellectual faculties,
and that man was not made to play the tambourine andto carry chairs between his teeth . But, my reverendmaster
,in order to live one must get a l i velihood.
”
Dom Claude listened in silen ce. All at once his holloweye assumed an expression so searching and so piercing thatGringoire fel t that look penetrate to the inmost recesses ofhis soul .Well
,Master Pierre but how happens i t that you are
now in the company of that Egyptian dancing-girl ? ”
Gramercy replied Gringoire, i t is because shei s my wife and I am her husband .
”
The gloomy eye of the priest glared like fire. Wretch !hast thou really done this ?
"cried he
,furiously grasping
Gringoire’
s arm . Hast thou so completely forsaken thyGod as to touch that creature ? ”
THE HUNCHBACK on norms-Damn. 2 15
By my hope of paradise, Monseigneur, answeredGringoire
,trembling in every j oint, I swear I have not
touched her,if that is what disturbs you .
”
What are you talking, then, about husband and wiferejoined the priest.Gringoire lost no time in relating to him as concisely aspossible the circumstances wi th which the reader is al
ready acquainted,his adven ture in the Cour des M iracles,
and his marriage with the broken jug. From his account i tappeared that this ceremony had not led to any result, andthat the Bohemian each succeeding night contrived to keephim at as great a distance as she had done on the first.
’
T i s a provoking thing, though said he, as he finishedhis story
,5‘but that is owing to my having had the Em is
fortune to marry a virgin .
”
W‘
hat mean you ?” asked the archdeacon
,whose agi
tation had graduall y subsided during this narrative.I t i s rather diffi cul t to explain my meaning,
” repli edthe poet.
’
T i s a supersti tion . My wife, as I am in
formed by an old fellow whom we call among ourselves theduke of Egypt
,is a child that has been ei ther lost or found,
which i s the same thing. She has a charm hung roundher neck which
,they say
,will some day cause her to find her
parents, but which would lose i ts virtue if the girl were tolose hers. Hence we both live most vi rtuously together.
”
So then,"rejoined Claude
,whose face brightened up
more and more, you really believe, Master Pierre, thatthis creature is yet untouched by man ?
What chance, Dom C laude, can a man have against asuperstition ? This is what she has got into her head . Iconsider this nun- like chastity
,which keeps i tself intact
among those Bohemian females who yield so easily to our
approaches, as a very rare circumstance indeed . But shehas three things to protect her : the duke of Egypt, whohas taken her under his safeguard
,calculating perhaps on
selling her to some lecherous abbot ; her whole tribe, whohold her in extraordinary veneration
,like another Notre
Dame and a certain li ttle dagger, whi ch the hussey alwayscarries about her somewhere or other
,notwi thstandi ng the
Ordinances of the provost, and which i s sure to be in herP 4
THE nuncnna ox on NOTRE-DAME. 2 1 7
the young dancer had reason to be afraid of ; she neverto ld fortunes, so that she was safe from prosecution s forwitchcraft
,so frequen tly instituted against the gipsy wo
men. And then Gringoire was as a brother to her, if nota husband. After all, the philosopher bore thi s kind of
Platonic marriage with great resignation . At any rate, hewas sure of lodging and bread. Every morning he salliedforth from the head-quarters of the Vagabonds, mostly incompany with the Egyptian ; he assisted her in collectingher harvest of smal l coin in the stree ts ; at night he re
turned with her to the same room,allowed her to lock her
self up in her own cell and slept the sleep of the righteousa very easy life
,said he
,considering all things,
and very favourable to re verie .” And then, in his soul andconscience
,the philosopher was not sure that he was not
over head and ears in love wi th the Bohemian . He lovedher goat almost as dearly. I t was a charming, gen tle,clever, intelligent creature - in short
,a learned goat. There
was nothing more common in the middle ages than thoselearned animals
,which excited general wonder, and fre
quen tly brought their instructors to the stake. The sorceries of the golden -hoofed goat
,however
,were but very
innocent tricks. These Gringoire explained to the archdeacon, who appeared to be deeply interested by those particulars . I t was sufficient
,he said
,in most cases, to hold
the tambourine to the animal in such or such a way, tomake it do what you wished . I t had been trained to theseperformances by the girl
,who was so extremely clever at
the busines s that she had taken only two months to teachthe goat to put together wi th moveable letters the wordPH tE BUs .
Phoebus ! exclaimed the priest ; why PhoebusGod knows
,
”replied Gringoire. Possibly she may
imagine that this word possesses some secret magic virtue.She frequently repeats i t in an under- tone when shethinks she is alone .Are you sure
,enquired C laude
,with his piercing
look, that i t is only a word,and not a name ? ”
Name whose name said the poe t.How shoul d I know rej oined the pries t.
2 1 8 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE -DAME.
I ’ll just tell you,Messire, what I am thinking.
‘
These Bohemians are a sort of Guebres,and worship the
sun Dan Phoebus .”
That is not so clear to me as to you, Master Pierre .At any rate
’
t is a poin t which I care very little about.Let her mutter her Phoebus as much as she pleases. So
much is certain that Dj ali i s almost as fond of me as ofher mistress.
"
What is Dj ali ?Why, that is the goat.The archdeacon rested his ' chin upon the points of his
fingers, and for a moment appeared to be lost in thought.Then, suddenly turning towards Gringoire Thou wil tswear, said he
,that thou hast never touched her ? ”
W'
hat the goat ? asked Gringoire.No
,the girl.
Oh my wife I swear I never did.
And thou art often alone with herE very evening
,for a ful l hour
Dom C laude knit ted his brow . Oh oh Solus cum
sola non cogitabantu r orare P ater- nos ter .
Upon my l ife I might say the P ater and the AveM aria and the Credo in B eam P atrem omnip otentem,
andshe would take no more notice of me than a pig of achurch .
Swear to ‘ me by the soul of thy mother, cried thearchdeacon with vehemence
,that thou hast not touched
this creature with the tip of thy finger.I am ready to swear i t by the body of my father also .
But, my reverend master, allow me to ask a question in myturn .
”
Speak .
H ow can this con cern you ?The pale face of the archdeacon crimsoned like the
cheek of a bashful girl. He paused for a moment beforehe replied
,with visible embarrassment Listen, Master
Pierre Gringoire. You are not yet damned, as far as Iknow . I take an interest in your welfare. Let me tellyou, then, that the moment you but touch that Egyptian,that child -of the devil
,you become the vassal of Satan .
THE nuncnnacx or nou ns-Dams . 2 19
’T is the body,you know
,that always plunges the soul into
perdition . W 0 betide you,if you approach this creature !
That is all . Now get thee gone cried the priest with aterrible look and, pushing the astonished Gringoire fromhim by the shoulders
,he retreated with hasty step beneath
the gloomy arcades of the cathedral .
CHAPTER I I I .
THE BELLS .
E van since the morning that Quasimodo underwen t thepunishment of the pillory
,the good people who dwell in
the neighbourhood of None-Dame fan cied that they perceived a great abatemen t in his ardour for bell -ringing.Before that event, the bell s were going on all occasions ;there were long tollings whi ch lasted from prime to compline, chimes for high mass, merry peals for a wedding ora christening
,mingling in the air like an embroidery of all
sorts of charming sounds . The old church,all quaking
and all sonorous,seemed to keep up a perpetual rej oicing.
Y ou fel t incessan tly the presen ce of a spirit of noise andcaprice, speaking by all these brazen mouths. Thisspiri t seemed now to have forsaken its abode : the cathedral appeared sullen and silent ; holydays, funerals, andthe like, were attended merely by the to lling which the
ri tual required and no more : of the double sound whichpervades a church, that of the organ wi thin and of the
be lls without, the former alone was left. Y ou would havesaid that there was no longer any musician in the belfries .Quasimodo, nevertheless, was still there. But what ailedhim ? Were rage and vexation on accoun t of what hehad suffered still rankling in his heart ? did he still feel inimagination the lash of the executioner
,and had the de
spondency occasioned by such treatment extinguished evenhis fondness for the bells or was i t possible that bigMary had a rival in the heart of the bell-ringer of Notre
run nuncnna cx os' NOTRE-DAME . 22 1
ought to sing ? There, work away !’
T i s the Annun ciation . The cheery sunshine requires a merry peal . PoorGuillaume thou art quite ou t of breath , my big fellowHe was thus engaged in egging on his bells
,which all
six bounded and shook their shining haunches, like anoisy team of Spanish mules, urged firs t this way thenthat by the apostrophes of the driver. All at on ce
,cas t
ing down his eye between the large slates which likescales cover the perpendi cular wall of the belfry to a certain height
,he descried in the Place a young female oddly
accoutred,who stopped and spread upon the ground a
ca rpet on which a li ttle goat came and posted itself. Acircle of spectators was soon
‘formed around them . Thissight suddenly changed
'
the current of his ideas,and con
gealed his musi cal en thusiasm as a breath of air congealsmelted rosin . He paused, turned his back to his bell s,and
,leaning forward from beneath the slated penthouse,
eyed the dancing-girl with that pensive,kind
,nay tender
,
look,which had once be fore astonished the archdeacon .
Meanwhile the bells, left to themselves, abruptly ceasedall at once
,to the great disappointmen t of the lovers of
this kind of music,who were listening with delight to the
peal from the Pont au Change, and wen t away as sulky asa dog to which you have held a piece of meat and givena stone .
CHAPTER IV .
CLAUDE rnonno’
s CELL.
ONE fine morning in the same month of March, I believei t was Saturday, the 29th, the festival of St. Eustache, i tso happened that our young friend Jehan Frollo duMoulin perceived, while dressing himself, that his breeches,con taining his purse , gave ou t no metallic sound. Poorpurse said he, drawing it forth from his pocket notone li ttle Parisis How cruelly thou hast been gutted by
222 m s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
di ce, Venus, and the tavern There thou art, empty,wrinkled
,flaccid. Thou art like the bosom of a fury. Iwould
j ust ask you, Messer C icero and Messer Seneca, whosedog’s- cared works lie scattered on the floor
,of what use i s
i t to me to know, better than a master of the mint or aJew of the Pont aux Changeurs, that a gold crown isworth thirty-five unzains
,at twenty-five sous eight deniers
Parisis each,if I have not a single miserable black hard
to risk on the double six ! 0 Consul Ci cero ! this i s n ota calamity from which one may extricate one
’
s self wi thperiphrases
,with quemadmodums and verumenimveros .
”
He began to put on his clothes in silen t sadness . Whilelacing his buskins, a thought occurred to him,
but he gavei t up immediately. Again i t presented i tself, and he puton his ves t the wrong side ou t, an eviden t sign of someviolen t inward struggle. At length
,dashing his cap upon
the ground,he exclaimed Yes
,I will go to my bro
ther I shall get a lecture, but then I shall get a crown .
”
Then hastily throwing on his surcoat trimmed with fur,
and picking up his cap,he rushed out of the room . He
went down the Rue de la Harpe towards the C i ty. As hepassed the Rue de la Huchette his olfactories were gratified by the smell of the j oints incessantly roasting there
,
an d he cast a sheep’s eye at the gigantic apparatus which
one day drew from Calatagirone, the Franciscan, thi s patheti cexclamation Veramente, ques te rotisserie sono oosa stu
penda But Jehan had not wherewi thal to get a breakfast,
and with a deep sigh he pursued his course under thegateway of the Peti t Chatelet, that enormous cluster ofmassive towers which guarded the entrance to the ci ty.He did not even take the time to throw a stone in pass
ing, as i t was then customary, at the mutil ated statue of
that Perinet Leclerc, who had surrendered the Paris of
Charles VI . to the English - a crime for which his
effigy,defaced by s tones and covered with mud
, did
penance for three centuries,at the corner of the streets of
La Harpe and Bussy,as in a perpetual pillory.
Having crossed the Peti t Pont, Jehan at length found himself before Notre-Dame. Again he wavered in his purpose
,
and he walked for a few moments round the statue of M .
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME . 223
Legris,repeating to himself I am sure of the lecture
,
but shall I get the crown ?”
He stopped a verger who was coming from the cloisters.Where 1 8 the Archdeacon of Josas .
’
he enquired .
I believe he is in his closet in the tower,
”replied the
verger ; and I would not advise you to disturb himthere
,unless you have a message from some such person
as the pope or Monsieur the kingJehan clapped his hands . By Jupiter he ex
claimed a fine opportunity for seeing that famous denof sorcery ! ”
Determined by this reflection,he resolutely entered at
the li ttle black door,and began to ascend the winding
stai rs leading to the upper stories of the tower. Weshall see
,
" said he to himself by the way. By thewhiskers of the Blessed Virgin, i t must be a curious place,that cell which my reverend brother keeps so careful ly tohimself. They say that he has a roaring fire there sometimes to cook the philosopher
’
s s tone at. By my fay,I
care no more about the philos0pher’
s . s tone than any cob
ble- stone, and I would rather find a savoury omelette on hisfurnace than the biggest philosopher
’
s stone in theworld ! ”
Having reached the pill ar gallery, he stood puffing for amoment
,and then swore at the endless stairs by I know
not how many million cart- loads of devils . Having somewhat vented his spleen
,he recommenced his ascen t by the
li ttle door of the north tower, which is now shut again stthe public. Just after he had passed the bell-room
,he
came to a lateral recess in which there was a low pointeddoor. Humph said the scholar this must be theplace
,I suppose .
The key was in the lock,and the door not fas tened he
gen tly pushed i t open far enough to look in .The reader has no doubt turned over the admirable
works of Rembrandt, that Shakspeare of painting. Amongso many wonderful engravings
,there is one
,in parti cul ar
,
represen ting Dr. Faus tus,as i t is conjectured, which you
cannot look at wi thout being dazzled . The scene is adark cel l, in the middle of whi ch is a
'
table covered wi th
'rHE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAMB. 225
cobweb,in the centre of which the motionless insect archi
te et looked like the nave of this wheel of lace . On thefurnace lay in disorder all sorts of vessels, glass phials,retorts
,and matrasses . There was no fire in the furnace,
nor did i t appear to have been lighted for a considerabletime. A glass mask, which Jehan observed among theimplements of alchymy
,and which no doubt served to
prote ct the archdeacon ’s face when he was at work uponany dangerous substance
,lay in one corner
,covered with
dust,and as i t were forgotten . By i ts side was a pair Of
bellows equall y dusty,the upper surface of which bore thi s
legend inlaid in letters of copper : SPIRA, SPERA .
Other mottoes in great number were inscribed, according to the custom Of the hermetic philosophers, upon thewalls
,some wri tten wi th ink and others cut as if with a
graver. Gothi c,Hebrew
,Greek, and Roman letters were
all mixed together ; the inscriptions ran into one another,the more recen t effacing the older
,and all dovetailing like
the boughs of a clump of trees, or pikes in a battle . Theycomposed in fact a confused medley Of all human philosophies, reveries, and knowledge . There was one hereand there which was conspi cuous above the rest like apennon among the heads of lances . Most of them wereshort Latin or Greek mottoes
,such as the middle age was
so clever at devising Unde ? inde ? H omo hamim’
mo ns trum .— Astra
,cas tra nomen
,numen . M e
'
yao
fligh'
e y, g e
’
yot na ndy. Sapere aude. F lat ubi cu lt,&0.
Sometimes there occu rred a word without any apparen tsignification
,as ’
A ywyx oeayr’a,which migh t possibly di sguise
some bitter al lusion to the monastic system sometimes asimple max im of clerical discipline in the form of a regularhexameter. There were also by the way Hebrew scrawls
,
which Jehan, who knew very little of Greek, could not
decipher, and the whole was crossed in all directions bystars, figures of men and beas ts, and triangles, which intersected one another
,and contributed not a little to make the
wall of the cell resemble a sheet of paper upon which amonkey has been scribbling with a pen .
In other respects the cell exhibited a general appearan ceOf neglect and dil apidation : and from the s ta te Of the
Q
226 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
utensils i t might be inferred that the master had long beendiverted from his usual pursuits by other occupati ons.This master, meanwhile, bending over a vast manuscript
adorned by grotesque pain tings, appeared to be tormentedby an idea which incessan tly Obtruded itself upon his meditations . So at least Jehan judged
,on hearing him utter
this soliloquy, with the pensive pauses of one in a brownstudy who thinks aloudYes
,so Manou asserted and Zoroaster taught. The
sun i s the offspring of fire, the moon of the sun : fire isthe soul of the universe . I ts elementary atoms are incessantly overflowing and pouring upon the world in innum erable currents . At the points where these curren ts intersect one another in the atmosphere they produce ligh t ;at their points of intersection in the earth they producegold — Light
,gold— one and the same thing — From the
state of fire to the con crete state — The difference betweenthe visible and palpable, between the fluid and solid in thesame substance
,be tween steam and ice
,nothing more.
This is not a dream -
’
ti s the general law of nature .But how is science to se t about detecting the secret of thi sgeneral law ? IVhy, this light which floo l s my hand isgold ! These same atoms, which expand according to a
certain law,need bu t be condensed according to a certain
other law. How is this to be done Some have proposed to effect i t by burying a ray of the sun . Averroesyes
,i t was Averroes — buried one under the first pillar
on the left, in the sanctuary of the Koran, in the grandmosque at Cordova but the vault must not be Opened tosee whether the operation has been success ful for the spaceof eight thousand years .
”
The devil said Jehan to himself ’ tis a long whileto wait for a crown !
O thers have thought, continued the archdeacon, thati t would be better to Operate upon a ray of Sirius . But i ti s very difficult to Ob tain one of his rays pure
,on account
of the simultaneous presence Of the other stars,whose light
mingles with i t. Flamel conceives that i t i s more simpleto Operate upon terrestrial fire .
'
— Flamel ! what a namefor an adept ! F lamma yes, fire. That is all . —The
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 227
d iamond is in charcoal, gold is in fire. But how i s i t tobe extracted P Magis tri affirms that there are certainnames of women possessing so swee t and so mysterious acharm
,that i t is sufficient to pronounce them during the
Operation . Let us see what M anon says on the subj ectWhere women are honoured the gods are pleased ;
where they are despised i t is useless to pray to the gods .The mouth of a woman i s constan tly pure i t i s a runningwater
,a ray of sunshine . The name of a woman ought
to be agreeable, soft, imaginary ; to terminate wi th longvowels and to be like words of blessing.
’
Yes the philosopher i s right thus, la Maria, 13 SOphia, la E smeralDamnation always always that thoughtHe closed the book with violence. He passed his
hand over his brow, as if to chase away the idea whichannoyed him and then took up a nail and a small hammer
,
the handle of which was curiously painted with cabalisti cletters .
For some time past,said he
,with a bi tte r smile
,I
have failed in all my experiments . One fixed idea hauntsme and pierces my brain like a red-hot i ron . I have noteven been able to discover the secret o f Cassiodorus
,who
made a lamp to burn without wick and without oil . Asimple matter
,nevertheless
P es te muttered Jehan .
One single miserable thought then,con tinued the
priest,
“i s sufficient to make a man weak or mad Oh howClaude Pernelle would laugh at me She who could notfor a moment divert N i colas Flamel from the prosecutionof the great work ! But, have 1 not in my hand the magichammer Of Zechiélé At every blow which the dreadrabbi, in the recesses of his cell struck upon this nail withthis hammer
,some one of his enemies whom he had
doomed to destruction sank into the earth which swallowedh im up. The king of France himself
,having one night
knocked for a frolic at his door,sank up to his knees in the
pavement of Paris. — This happened not three centuriesago . Well , I have the hammer and the nail but thenthes e tools are not more formidable in my hands than arule in the hands of a carpenter. And yet I should pos
Q 2
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 225}
We know not whether these ideas occurred to him at themoment but
,volatile as he was
,he apprehended that he
had seen more than he ought to have seen, that he hadsurprised the soul of his elder brother in one Of i ts mostsecret attitudes
,and that he must take good care not to let
Claude perceive i t. Perceiving that the archdeacon had relapsed in to his former stupor, he softly drew back his headand took several steps outside the door, that his footfallmight apprise the archdeacon of his arri val.
Come in,cried his brother, from within the cell
I have been waiting for you . Come in,Master Jacques .
The scholar boldly entered . The archdeacon,to whom
such a visiter in such a place was any thing but welcome ,s tarted at the sight Of him . What is i t you, Jehan ?
”
"l‘
is a J at any rate,” said the student
,wi th his ruddy
,
impudent, j ovial face.The countenance of Dom Claude resumed its stern ex
pression . What brings you hither P”
Brother,
"replied the scholar
,assuming as humble
,
modest,and decorous an air as he could
,and twi rling his
cap on his fingers with a look Of innocence, I am cometo ask of youWhatA li ttle wholesome advice, which I much need .
Jehan durs t not add and a little money which I needstill more.
”This last member of the sentence he forbore
to utte r.Sir, said the archdeacon, in an austere tone, I am
highly displeased wi th you .
”
Alas sighed the student.Dom Claude made his chair describe one fourth of acircle , and looked stedfastly at Jehan. I wanted to seeyou,
” said he .This was an ominous exordium . Jehan prepared him
self for a fierce attack .
Every day,Jehan, complaints are brought to me of
0 your m isconduct. What have you to say for yourselfabout that beating which you gave to the young ViscountAl bert de Ramonchamp P 4
Oh replied Jehan,a mere bagatelle The scurvy
Q 3
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
ng his horse run in thethe scholars .
n u hat excuse have you to make,
" resumed thearchdeacon
,about that affair with M ahiet Targel
,whose
gown you tore ? Tunicam dechiracerunt,says the com
plain t.Pooh only one of the sorry Mon taigu hoods that ’s
The complain t says tnm’
cam and not cap ettam . Haveyou not learned Latin PJehan made no reply .Yes, continued the priest, the study of letters i s at
a low ebb now . The Latin language is scarcely understood, the Syriac unknown, the Greek so hateful that it i sno t accounted ignorance even in the greatest scholars toskip a Greek word wi thout pronouncing i t
,and to say
,
Greecum es t, non legitu r.
Jehan boldly raised his eyes . Brother,said he
,
“would you like me to explain in simple French,the
Greek word written there upon the wall P”
Which word P”
A N A’
rKH !
A sligh t flush tinged the pallid cheek Of the archdeacon,like the puff of smoke which be tokens the secret commotions of a volcano . The studen t scarcely perceived i t.Well
,Jehan , stammered the elder brother wi th some
effort,what is the meaning of that word P
”
FATALITY .
”
Dom Claude turned pale,and the scholar carelessly con
tinned And that word underneath,engraven by the
same hand,’
Avas'yVEfOL, signifies impu rity. Y ou see I doknow something Of Greek .
The archdeacon was silen t . This Greek lesson hadm adehim thoughtful. Young Jehan
,who had all the art of a
spoiled child,deemed i t a favourable moment for ha
z arding his request. Assuming, therefore, as soothing atone as possible, he thu s began My good brother
,
surely you will not look morose and take a dislike to me,merely on account Of a few petty bruises and thumps
given in fair fight to a pack of li ttle chits and monkeys
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE -DAME. 23 1
qu ibusdam marmosetis . Y ou see, I do know something
of Latin , brother Claude .”
But this canting hypocrisy had not i ts accustomed effectupon the stern senior. I t did not remove a single wrinklefrom the brow Of the archdeacon . Come to the point,
”
said he drily .Wel l then
,replied Jehan, s crewing up his courage ;
i t i s this I want money.”
At this straigh tforward declaration the coun tenance ofthe archdeacon all at once assumed a magisterial and paternal expression .
You know, Monsieur Jehan, said he, that our fie fof T irechappe produces no more, deducting ground ren tand other outgoings for the twenty- one houses
,than
thirty- n ine livres,eleven sous
,six deniers parisis . This is
half as much again as in the time Of the Ps elets,but
’
tisno great deal .”
I want money,repeated Jehan stoically .
You know that the official has decided that our
twenty- one houses are liable to the paymen t of fines to thebishopri c, and that to relieve ourselves from this homagewe must pay the most reverend bishop two marks in silvergilt at the rate of six livre s parisi s . Now I have not yetbeen able to save these two marks
,as you well know .
”
I know that I want money,
" repeated Jehan for thethird time .And what would you do with i t ?At this question a glimmer of hope danced before the
eyes of Jehan . He resumed his soft and fawning manner.Look you, my dear brother Claude, i t i s not for any
bad purpos e that I make this application . I t i s not toplay the gallan t in taverns with your unzains
,or to parade
the streets of Paris in a suit of gold brocade with a lacqueyat my heels . No
,brother ; i t i s for an act of chari ty .
”
What act of chari ty P” enquired Claude with somesurpr1se .
There are two of my friends who have proposed topurchase baby- linen for the child Of a poor widow inHaudry
’
s alms-houses : i t i s a real charity. I t wouldcost three florins
,and I wish to con tribute my share.
”
Q 4
m m HUNCHBAOK op NOTRE-DAME . 233
Qui non Iaborat non manducet.
At thi s inflexible answer of the archdeacon’
s Jehancovered his face with his hands, sobbed like a woman, andcried in a tone o f despair O 1 0 7 0
“t o 7 0 7 07 l
What is the meaning of that ? ” asked C laude,sur
prised at this vagary.t y, said the scholar, after rubbing hi s eyes wi th
his knuckles to give them the appearance of weeping i ti s Greek tis an anapazs t of ZEschylus, which expressesgrief to the life.”
He then burst into a laugh so droll and so ungovernablethat the archdeacon coul d not help smiling. I t was i nfact C laude’s fault : why had he so utterly spoiled theboy
P
Nay now,my good brother Claude
,resumed Jehan,
only look at my worn -out buskins . Did you ever see amore lamentable sightThe archdeacon had quickly resumed his former stern
ness . I will send you new buskins, but no money .
Only one poor peti t parisis,brother besought
Jehan . I will learn Gratian by heart, I will be a goodChristian , a real Pythagoras of learning and virtue . Onepeti t parisi s
,pray Would you let me fall a prey to hun
ger which is staring me in the face ?
Dom C laude shook his wrinkled brow . Qui non la .
borat
Well then,cried Jehan
,in terrupting him, j olli ty
for ever I will game,I will fight
,I will go to the tavern
and the bordelSo saying he threw up his cap
,and snapped his fingers
like castagnettes. The archdeacon eyed him with gloomylook .
Jehan, said he, you are on a very slippery descent.Know you whither you are going ?To the tavern
,said Jehan .
The tavern leads to the pillory.’
T i s a lantern like any other ; and i t was perhapsthe one with which Diogenes found his man .
The pillory leads to the gallows .”
The gallows is a balance,which has a man at one en d
234: THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
and all the world at the other. ’
T i s a fine thing to be theman .
"
The gallows leads to hell .That i s a rousing fire .
"
Jehan, Jehan, the end will be bad.
The beginning at least will have been good .
At this moment the sound of a footfall was heard on thestairs .Silen ce ! said the archdeacon here i s Master
Jacques . Hark ye,Jehan
,
” added he,in a lower tone,
be su re not to mention what you shall have seen andheard here. Quick hide yourself under this furnace
,and
do n’
t so much as breathe ."
The scholar crept under the furnace. Here an excellentidea occurred to him . By the by
,brother Claude, I
must have a d orin for not breathing.
”
Silence ! you shall have i t.But give i t me now .
”
There, take i t said the archdeacon angrily,throwing
him his pouch . Jehan crawled as far as he could underthe furnace and the door Opened.
CHAPTER V.
THE TW O M EN IN BLACK .
THE erson fl l p_ CMM d a Nack g owmw d
-a*§em yook . Our friend Jehan
,who had contrived to arrange
himself in his hiding- place in such a manner as to hearand see all that passed
,was struck at the first glance by
the perfect sadness of the garb and the countenan ce of thevisi ter. A certain gentleness at the same time overspreadthat face
,but 1 t was the gen tleness of a cat or a judge. The
man was very g ab l gnli lgdfl d haLd—upomg x ty : withm e lag e hands . When Jew ~
han saw that i t was nobody, that i s to say, in all probabili tysome physi cian or magistrate
,and that hi s nose was at a
rm : HUNCHBACK or nornnm amz . 235
great distance from his mouth, a sure sign of stupidity, heshrank back in his hole
,vexed at the prospect of having to
pass an indefini te time in so confined a posture and in su chscurvy company.The archdeacon meanwhile had not even risen to thi s
personage . He motioned to him to be seated on a stoolnear the door
,and
,after a few moments
’
silence, in whichhe seemed to be pursuing a previous med i ta tion, he saidwi th the tone of a patron to his client, Good morrow,Master Jacques .Good morrow
,master
,replied the man in black.
In the two ways of pronoun cing on the one hand thatM aster Ja cques , and on the other that mas ter by way ofeminence
,there was as much difference as between Mon
seigneur and Monsieur ; i t clearly bespoke the teacher andthe disciple .Well
,
” resumed the archdeacon,after another silence,
which Master Jacques took care not to in terrupt, haveyou succeededAlas master
,said the other with a sorrowful smile
,
I keep puffing away . More ashes than I want, but notan a tom of gold .
A gesture of displeasure escaped Dom C laude.I was not talking of that
,Master Jacques Charmolue,
but of the proceedings against your sorcerer, Marc Cenaine,I think you called him
,the butler of the Court of Accompts.
Doth he confess his guilt. Has the torture produced thedesi red effectAlas ! no
,replied Master Jacques
,still wi th his sad
smile ; we have not that consolation . The man is ashard as a flin t. We might boil him in the Swine Marketbefore he would confess . However
,we are sparing no pains
to get a t the tru th ; his j oin ts are all dislocated . We aretrying every thing we can think of
,as old Plautus says
A dvorsum s timu lo s, laminas , crucesque, compedesque,Nerve s, catenas , carceres, numel las, ped icas, horas
but all to no purpose . Oh ! he is a terrible fellow. He
fai rly puzzles me ."
Have you found nothing further in his house ?
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 237
low obeisance. But I had well nigh forgotten whendoth it please you that I shoul d order the young sorceressto be apprehended ? ”
What sorceress PThat Bohemian , you know, who comes every day to
dance in the Parvis,in despite of the prohibition of the
official . She has a goat which i s possessed, and has thedevil’s own horn s, and reads, and writes, and understandsmathematics
,and would be enough to bring all Bohemia to
the gallows . The indi ctment i s qui te ready. A handsomecreature
,upon my soul, that dancer ! the brigh test black
eyes I a pair of Egyptian carbuncles ! when shall we begin PThe archdeacon turned pal e as death . I W ill tell you
,
stammered he,with a voice scarcely articulate. Then with
an effor t he added For the present go on with Mar cCenaine .
Never fear,said Charmolue, smiling as soon as I
get back, I will have him strapped down again to theleathern bed. But ’ t i s a devil of a fellow he tires PierratTorteru e himself, and his hands are bigger than mine . Assai th the good Plautus
Nudus vinctu s centum pondo, es quando pendes per pedes.The W indlass will be the best thing to set to work upon him .
Dom C laude appeared to be absorbed in gloomy reverie.Suddenly turning to Charmolue Maste r PierratMaster Jacques
,I would say, go on with Marc Cenaine .
Ay, ay, Dom Claude. Poor man,he will have suffered
a martyrdom . But then what an idea,to go to the sab
bath ! a butler of the Court of Accompts,who ought to
know the text of Charlemagne ’s ordinance, Stryga vel masca !
As for the girl Smelarda,as they call her I shall
awai t your orders . Ah true ! and when we are at theporch
,you will also explain to me what the gardener in low
relief at the entrance of the church i s meant for ! I s i tnot the Sower Hey
,master ! What think you ?
Dom Claude, engrossed by his own reflections, attendednot to the speaker. Charmolue
,following the direction of
his eye, perceived that i t was mechanically fixed upon alarge spider
'
s web stretched across the window . At thatmomen t
,agiddyfly, attracted by the March sun, flew into the
238 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
net and became entangled in i t. At the shock given to hisweb
,an enormous spider rushed forth from his central
cell,and then at one leap
,sprang upon the fly
,which he
doubled up with his fore-legs, whilst with his hideoussucker he attacked the head. Poor fly said the proctor
,
and raised his hand to rescue i t. The archdeacon,sud
denly starting up, held back his arm with convulsiveviolence.
Master Jacques ! cried he,
“meddle not wi th fatali ty !”
The proctor turned about in alarm : i t seemed as if hisarm was held by iron pincers . The eye of the priest wasfixed
,wild
,glaring
,and gazed intently upon the horrible
l i ttle groupe of the fly and the spider.0 yes
,yes ! resumed the priest
,with a voice that
seemed to proceed from his very bowels thi s i s anemblem of the whole affair. I t is young
,i t fl ies about, i t
i s merry,i t seeks the Open air
,the spring sunshine
,
liberty. O yes ! But i t i s s topped at the fatal window ; i ti s caught in the toils of the spider
,the hideous spider !
Poor dancing girl poor predestined fly Be quiet, MasterJacques i t i s fatality — Alas
,Claude ! thou art the spi ..
der. Claude,thou art the fly too ! Thou didst seek sci
ence,the light
,the sunshine thou desiredst only to reach
the free air,the broad day light of eternal truth : but,
while darting towards the dazzling window,which opens
into the other world,a world of brightness
,intelligence,
and scien ce,blind fly
,si lly doctor, thou didst not percei ve
that subtle spider’
s web,sp read by Fate between the light
and thee thou ru sheds t into i t,and now
,with mangled
head and broken wings,thou s truggles t in the iron gr ipe of
fatali ty Master Jacques Mas ter Jacques let the spider aloneI assure you
,said Charmolue, .who stared at him
without comprehending his meaning, that I will not meddle wi th it. But
,for mercy’s sake
,master
,loose my arm
you have a hand like a vice.The archdeacon heard him not. 0 fool ! fool, he
again began,without taking his eyes for a momen t of the
window . And if thou coulds t have broken through thoseformidable meshes with thy deli cate wings
,dost thou ima
THE B UNOHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 239
gine that thou couldst then have attained the light ? Howwouldst thou have passed that glass, whi ch i s beyond i t, that
transparen t obstacle, that wall of crys tal harder than brass,which separates all philosophies from truth ? O van ity ofscience how many sages come fluttering from afar to dashtheir heads against i t how many systems come buzzing torush pell-mell against this eternal windowHe paused . The con cluding reflexions, which had in
sensibly diverted his mind from himself to science, appearedto have restored him to a degree of composure . JacquesCharmolue brought him back completely to a feeling of re
ali ty by asking him this question By the by, master,when will you come and help me to make gold ? I am notlucky at i t.
”
The archdeacon shook his head with a bitter smile.Master Jacques
,
”he replied, read the D ia logue de
E nergia et Operatione Dazmonum, by Mi chael Psellus .
What we are about is not absolutely innocentSpeak lower
,master
,
”said Charmolue. I thought
as much myself. But a man may be allowed to dabble alittle in hermetics when he i s but king’s proctor in theecclesiastical court at thirty crowns tournois per annum .
Only let us speak lower.”
At that moment sounds resembling those made in mastication
,proceeding from beneath the furnace
,struck the
alarmed ear of Charmolue .
What is that ? ” he asked .
I t was the scholar who,cramped in his hiding-place and
heartily weary of i t,had there found a hard crust and a
cube of mouldy cheese, and fallen foul of them withoutceremony
,by way of consolation and breakfast. As he
was very hungry he made a great noise,and smacked his
chaps so audibly at every munch as to excite alarm in theproctor.
’
T i s only my cat,said the archdeacon sharply
,re
galing herself under there with a mouse.”
This explanation satisfied Charmolue. In fact,mas
ter,he replied
,with a respectful smile
,every great phi
losopher has had his familiar animal . As Servius says, youknow : N u llus enim locu s s ine genio eat.
”
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 241
He approached them on tiptoe, and heard the archdeaconsay in a very low tone to his companion : I t W as Will iamof Paris who had a Job engraved upon that stone of thecolour of lapisJaz ul i, and gil t on the edges . Job represen tsthe phil osopher
’
s stone,which must be tried and tortured in
order to become perfect, as sai th Raymond Lull y : Sub conservatione f orm specificce sa lva anima .
”
What is that to me P said Jehan to himself I have
got the purse.At this moment he heard a loud and sonorous voi ce be
hind him pour forth a formidable voll ey of oaths SangD ieu ! Ventre D ieu ! B edieu .
’ Corps de D ieu N ombril deB elz ebuth ! N om d
’
un pope ! Corne et tonnerre .’
Upon my soul,
”cried Jehan, that can be nobody
but my friend Captain PhoebusThe name Phoebus struck the ear of the archdeacon at
the moment when he was explaining to the king’
s proctor
W iding his tail in a bath whence issue smoke anda royal head . Dom Claude shuddered, stopped short, to thegreat surprise of Charmolue, turned round, and saw hisbro ther Jehan accost ing a tall officer at the door of the
Gondalaurier mansion .
I t was in fact Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers . Hewas leaning against the angle of the hoarse and swearinglike a pagan .
By my fay,captain Phoebus
,said Jehan grasping
his hand, you swear with marvellous emphasis .Blood and thunder replied the captain .
Blood and thunder to you rej oined the scholar.But
,I say, gentl e captain , what has occasioned this over
flow of fair words PI beg your pa rdon , my good comrad e Jehan, cried
Phoebus,shaking him by the hand
,a horse at the top
of his speed cannot s top short. Now I was swearing atfull gallop. I have just come from those affected prudes
,
and whenever I leave them I have my throat full of
oaths ; I am forced to turn them ou t or they would chokeme outright — blood and thunderWill you come and drink with me ? ” asked the
scholar.
242 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME’
.
This proposal pacified the captain . I fain would,”
said he, but I have no money.”
Well,but I have.”
Atha ! let us seeJeban exhibited the pouch to the wondering gaze of the
captain . Meanwhile the archdeacon,who had left Char
molue quite astounded, had approached and stopped withina few paces of them, watching both wi thou t their beingaware of i t, so entirely was their attention engrossed by thepouch .
A purse in your pocket,Jehan, cried t hus
,is
like the moon in a bucket of water. You see i t,but i t i s
not there :’
tis only the shadow. Nothing but pebbles ini t,I would wager .There are the pebbles that I pave my pocket with
,
replied Jehan drily and so saying he emptied the pouchupon a post close by
,with the air of a Roman saving his
country .By heaven muttered Phoebus real moneys ! ’
tis
absolutely dazzling.
Jehan retained his grave and dignified attitude . A fewliards had rolled into the mud ; the captain, in hi s enthus iasm
,stooped to pick them up . He counted the pieces
,
and,turning with a solemn look towards his companion
,
Do you know,Jeban ,
”said he, that there are twenty
three sons Parisis ? Whom have you had the luck tolighten last night in the Rue Coupe-Gueule ?Jehan threw back the long light hair that curled about
his face,and half closed his disdainful eyes . ’Tis a
good thing,”said he, to have a brother who is an arch
deacon and a simpleton .
Com e dc D ieu .7 exclaimed Phoebus. The worthy
fellow ! ”
Let us go and drink, said Jehan.
The two friends then bent their steps towards the tavern known by the sign of la P omme d
’
E oe. I t i s superfluons to say that they had fif st pim the money
,and
that the archdeacon followed them .
The archdeacon followed them with wild and gloomylook . Was this the Phoebus whose accursed name had,
THE HUNOHBAUK or NOTRE ~ DAME. 243
e ver sin ce his in terview with Gringoire, haunted all histhoughts ? he knew not, but at any rate i t was a Phoebus,and this magi c name sufficed to lure the archdeacon to follow the two reckless companions with stealthy step, li stening to their conversation and watching thei r slighte stgestures with intense anxiety. Indeed
,nothing was more
easy than to hear all they said, so loud was the tone inwhi ch they carried on thei r conversation about duels anddoxies
,flagons and drunken frol i cs .
At the turning of a street, the sound of a tambourinewas wafted to them from a crossing at a li ttle dis tance.Dom Claude heard the oflicer say to his brother :Blood and thunder ! let us quicken our paceWhy
,Phoebus P
I am afraid lest the Bohemian should s ee me .What Bohemian P”
The gi rl with the goat.La Smeralda P
The same,Jehan. I always forget her devil of a
name . Let us make haste : she would know me again. Idon
’
t wish that girl to speak to me in the street.Are you then acquainted with her, Phoebus P
Here the archdeacon saw Phoebus grin,s to op to Jehan
’sear, and whisper a few words in i t. The captain thenburst into a loud laugh, and tossed his head with a triumphant air.Indeed sa id Jehan .
Upon my soul replied Phoebus.To- night P
"
This very night.Are you sure she will come ?”
You must be sill y, Jehan . Not the leas t doubt of i t.Captain Phoebus
,you are a lucky fellow
The archdeacon heard every syllable of this conversation .
His teeth chattered . A shudder,visible to the eye
,
thrilled his whole frame. He paused for a momentleaned against a post
,like a drunken man
,and again fol
lowed the two boon companions .
THE HUNOB BAOK or Horns -DAME. 245
so the tavern, no doubt as a protecti on from the cold ofthe March evenings
, iperhaps also to conceal his dress.From time ‘to time he paused before the window,
lookedthrough the small loz enge - shaped panes bordered with lead,l is tened, and stamped .
At length the ta vern-doo r opened . I t was this that heappeared to be waiting for. Two pers ons who had beendrink ing there came out. The ray of light whi ch escapedat the door fell for a momen t upon their j ovial faces . Theman in the cloak stationed himself under a porch on theo ther side of the street to watch them.
Blood and thunder ! ” exclaimed one of the topers.The clock has jus t s truck seven : that is the time for my
appointmen t.”
I tell you, replied hi s companion, wi th an arti culation far from di stinct, that I don
'
t li ve in the Rue desMauvai ses Paroles — indignas qui inter verba mala habita t.I lodge in the Rue Jean-Pain-Moll et. Y ou are morehorned than a unicorn, if you say to the contrary .Every body knows that whoever on ce get s upon a bear’sback
, is never afraid afterwards : but you have a nose forti t-bitsJehan
,my friend, you are drunk, said the other.
His companion rej oined, s taggering That i s whatyou are pleased to say, Phoebus, but i t is proved thatPla to had the profil e of a b ound.
”
The reader has no doubt already recognised in the twoj olly topers the captain and the scholar. The man whowas watching them in the dark appeared also to have recognised them, for with slow step he followed all the zigzags in to which the captain was drawn by his companion.The former, more inu red to tippling, was none the worsefor liquor. The man in the cloak
,li stening to them
attentively, was enabled to catch the whole of the followinginte res ting conversation .
Body 0 ’ Bacchus Mr. Bachelor, try to walk straight
you know I must leave you . I t is se ven o’
clock, I tell
you, and I have an appo intment."
Then go, leave me ! I see the stars and darts of fire.
a'
3
246 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTR E-DAME .
Y ou are l ike the castle of Dampmartin, bursting wi thlaughter.”
By my grandmother’
s warts, Jehan, the nonsenseyou talk i s too absurd .
.By the by, Jehan, have you any
money left P
Mr. Rector,there is no fault — the li ttle shambles
,
p arva bouchem’
a .
”
Jehan, my friend Jehan , you know I have to meetthat girl a t the end of the Pont St. Michel
,that I can
take her no where but to Falourdel’
s,and shall have to pay
for the room . The old white-whiskered bawd will not gi veme credit . Surely, Jehan, we have not drunk all theparson
’
s money . See if you have not one Parisis left.”
The consciousness of having well spen t the otherhours is an excellent sauce to the table.
Fire and fury ! A truce to cross-purposes, Jehan .
Tell me, have you any money left ? I must have some,or
, by heaven, I will rifle your pockets, were you leprousas Job.Why
,sir
,the Rue Galiache i s a street that has the
Rue de la Verrerie at one end,and the Rue de la Tix eran
derie at the other.”
Quite right,my dear friend Jehan
,so i t has . But,
for heaven’
s sake rally your sen ses . I t i s seven o’
clockand I want but one sous Parisi s.”
Silence,now — si len ce to the song, and atten tion to
the chorus
Quand les rats mangeront les chats,Le roi
Scholar of Antichrist cried Phoebus,“may thy
brains be dashed ou t with thine own books ! At thesam e time he gave the in toxicated student a violen t pushwhich sent him reeling against the wall, where he presently sunk gently upon the pavement of Philip Augustus .From a reli c of that brotherly compassion which i s neverwholly banished from the heart of a toper, Phoebus rolledJeban wi th his foot upon one of those pillows of the poor .which Providen ce keeps ready in the corners of all thestreets of Pari s
,and which the wealthy disdainfully
THE HuNoHBAcx or Horns -DAME . 247
s tigm ati se with the name of dunghills. The captainplaced Jehan
’s head on an inclined plane of cabbage- stalk s,and the scholar instantly began snoring in a magnificen tbass . Yet was no t the captain
’
s heart wholly free fromanimosi ty . So much the worse for thee if the devil
’
sca rt picks thee up as i t passes said he to the sleepingscholar
,and away he went.
The man in the cloak, who had kept following him ,
paused for a moment before the helpless youth , as if undecided what to do then, heaving a deep sigh, he continuedto follow the captain .
Like them we will leave Jehan sleeping beneath thecanopy of heaven, and speed after them, if i t so please thereader.On reaching the Rue St. Audre
’
des Arcs , Captain Phoebus perceived that some one was following him . Chancingto turn his eyes
,he saw a kind of shadow creeping behind
him along the walls . He stopped ; the figure s toppedhe walked on ; the figure walked on too. He felt butlittle alarm at this discovery. Pooh said he to himself
,
I have not a single son.
”
He hal ted in front of the coll ege of Autun,where he
had commenced what he called his studies,close to the
statue of Cardinal Pierre Bertrand, on the right of theporch
,and looked around him . The street was absolutely
deserted . Nothing was to be seen but the figure,whi ch
approached him with slow steps, so slow that he hadabundant time to observe that i t had a cloak and a hat .When very near to him
,i t stopped and remained motion
less as the s tatue of Cardinal Bertrand ; intently fixingupon him
,however
,a pai r of eyes glaring with that vague
l ight whi ch issues at night from those of a cat.The captain was brave and would not have cared a r ush
for a robber wi th a cudgel in his fist . But this walkingsta tue, this petrified man, thrilled him wi th horror. Therewere at tha t time in circulation a number of s tories of
a goblin -monk who haun ted at night the streets of Pari sthese stories crowded confusedly upon his memory . Hes tood stupified for some minutes, and at length broke silence by a forced laugh If you are a robber
, as I
THE BUNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME . 249
tom ,supers ti ti ous tales— were all forgotten at the moment.
In hi s eyes i t was but a man and an insult. Bravelysaid ! ” stammered he, hal f choked wi th rage. He drewhis sword
,and in a faltering voi ce — for rage makes one
tremble,as well as fear— cried : Here ! on the spo t !
this very moment ! draw — draw ! The blood of one of
us must dye this pavement !Meanwhile the othe r nei ther flinched nor stirred . When
he saw his adversary in guard and read y for the combat :Captain Phoebus,
” said he, in a tone tremulous withvexation you forget your engagement.
”
In men like Phoebus gusts of passion are l ike boilingmilk
,the ebul li tion of which a drop of cold water is suf.
ficient to allay. At those few simple words the cap taindropped the weapon which gli stened in his hand .
Captain, continued the stranger,to-morrow, the
day after to -morrow,a month
,a year
,ten years hence
, you
will find me ready to cut your throat : but first go to youras s ignation .
”
In fact,sa id Phoebu s
,as if seeking to capitulate with
himself ; a sword and a girl are two delightful things toen coun ter in a meeting ; but I don
’
t see why I should giveup one for the other when I may have bo th .
He re turned his sword to the scabbard.Go to your assignation” repeated the unknown .
Many thanks, sir, for your courtesy, replied Phoebuswi th some embarrassmen t. I t i s very true that i t willbe time enough to-morrow to slash and cut button-holes infather Adam
’
s doublet. I am beholden to you for allowing me one more agreeable quarter of an hour. I did hope
,
to be sure, to put you to bed in the kennel, and yet be intime for the gi rl
,especially as in such cases i t i s genteel to
make the wenches wai t a li ttle . But you appear to be ahearty fellow, and i t is safest to put off our meeting till tomorrow. So I shall go to my assignation , which is for thehour of seven , as you know. Here Phoebus tapped hisforehead. Ah corne-D ieu ! I forgot I have not a souto pay for the use of the garret
,and the hag insists on
having the money beforehand . She won’
t trust me .”
Here is money to pay with .
'250 THE HUNCHBAC’K OF NOTRE-DAME .
Phoebus felt the cold hand of the unknown slip in to hisa large piece of money . He coul d not help taking thecoin and pressing that hand.
By heaven ! ” he exclaimed, you are a good fel
One condition ! said the stranger. Prove to methat I was wrong and that you spoke the truth . Concealme in some corner, where I may see whether the girl isreally the same whose name you mentioned.
Oh repli ed Phoebus,that will make no di fference
to me . We will take the room called St.Martha’s,and
from the kennel by the side of i t you may see andwelcome .”
Come along then , rejoined the figureAt your servi ce
,
” said the captain . For aught Iknow, you may be the devil in prep rid personé ; but let u sbe good friends to- night : to-morrow I will pay you mydebts, both of the purse and the sword.
They walked away wi th hasty s teps. In a few minutesthe noise of the river appri sed them that they were on thebridge of St. M ichel, at that time covered with houses .
f ‘. I will fi rst introduce you
,said Phoebus to his com
panion,and then go and fetch the wench who i s to wai t
for me near the Peti t Chatelet.” That companion madeno reply since they had been walking side by side he hadnot uttered a word. Phoebus stopped before a low door,against which he kicked violently . A light glimmeredthrough the crevices of the door. Who ’
s there crieda mumbling voice . Corp s-D ieu Tete-Dieu Ventra
D ieu replied the cap tain . The door instantly Opened,and discovered an old woman and a lamp , both of whichtrembled. The hag was bent almost double, and dressedin rags. Her head shook
,and her hands, face, and neck,
were covered wi th wrinkles. She had very small eyes ;her lips receded owing to the loss of her teeth, and all
round her mouth she had long white hairs resembling thewhiskers of a cat. The interior of her dwelling corresponded in appearance with herself. The wall s were ofplaster ; the ceil ing was formed of the black rafters andfloor of the room above ; the fire place was dismantled,
THE nox onnaox or NOTRE-DAME. 251
and every corner di splayed a drapery of cobwebs . Twoor
three rickety tables and stools occupied the middl e of thefloor ; a dirty boy was playing in the ashes, and at thefarther end the stairs
,or rather ladder, led up to a
trap-door in the ceiling. On entering this den, the captain ’s mysterious companion drew his cloak up to his eyes,while Phoebus kept swearing like a Turk . St. Martha
'
s
room ! said he,putting in to the hand of the old woman
the crown which had been given to him by the stranger.The crone, who called him Monseigneur at every otherword
,deposited the crown in a drawer . While her back was
turned,the ragged urchin rose from the hearth
,slily went
to the drawer,took ou t the piece of money
,and put a dry
leaf which he had pulled from a faggot in its place.The hag beckoned to the two gentlemen
,as she called
them, to follow,and ascended the ladder before them .
cOn
reaching the room above,she se t the lam p upon a cofi
'
er,
and Phoebus,acquainte d wi th the locali ties of the house,
Opened a door that led to a dark closet . This way, mygood fellow
,
” said he to his companion . The man in thecloak complied without uttering a word ; the door closedupon him he heard Phoebus bolt i t
,and a moment after
wards go down stairs with the old woman . The ligh t disappeared along with them .
CHAPTER VII I .
UTILITY OF W INDOW S LOOK ING TOW AR DS THE R IVER.
CLAUDE FR OLLo— for we presume that the reader,more
intelligent than Phoebus, has discovered that the spectremonk was no other than the archdeacon — C laude Froll ogroped about for a few moments in the dark hole in whi chthe captain had bolted him . I t was in fact a loft such asbuilders sometimes leave in the roof above the outer wallsof a house. The verti cal section of this kennel
,as Phoebus
'rns HUNOEBAQK or moans -Damn. 253
eyes,was radian t wi th delight. Un consciou sly, and wi th a
charm ing semblanCe of childishness, she traced unmeaninglines on the lid of the cofi’er with the tip of her finger, andthen looked at the finger which had been thus employed .
Her feet could not be seen : the li ttle goat was coweringupon them .
An amorous chit-chat is a very commonplace sort ofthing. I t is a perpetual I love you — a phrase mu sical
enough to the parties con cerned, but exceedingly bald and
in sipid to indifferent persons, when not adorned wi th a
few fiorituri. Claude,however, was not an indi fferent
li stener.Oh despise me not, Monseigneur t hus , said the
girl without rai sing her eyes . I know that what I amdoing is wrong.
”
Despise you , my pretty dear ! replied the officer,with a con sequential air of gallantry despise you ! téteD ieu and why
For having accompanied you .
I perceive, my beauty, that we don’
t understand oneanother. I ought, by rights , not to de spise you
,but to
hate you .
The girl looked at him in alarm . Hate me ! whatthen have I done P"
For wanting so much soli ci tation .
Alas ! ” said she I am breaking a vow
I shall ne ver find my paren ts again The charm willlose its virtue. But no matter ! what need have I at present of father or motherAs she thus spoke
,she fixed on the captain her large
dark eyes,moist with delight and tenderness.
Devil fetch me,i f I comprehend you !” exclaimed
Phcebus .
La Esmeralda was silen t for a mom ent ; a tear thentri ckled from her eye
,a sigh burst from her lips , and she
said, O Mon seigneur,I love you
There was around this young female such an odour ofchasti ty, su ch a cha rm of vi rtue
,that Phoebus did not feel
qui te at ease by her side . Thi s confess ion, however,emboldened him . You do love me said he wi th
254 THE B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME.
transport, throwing his arm round the waist of the Egyptian
,having only waited for such an occasion .
1
Phoebus,
” resumed the Bohemian,gently removing
from her waist the tenacious hand of the captain, youare kind
,you are generous, you are handsome you
saved me,who am but a poor foundling. I have long
been dreaming about an officer saving my life. I t was
you that I dreamt of before I knew you : the offi cer ofmy dreams had a handsome uniform hke you
,the look of
a gentleman, and a sword. Your name is Phoebus ;’
tis
a fine name I love your name,I love your sword. Draw
your sword,Phoebus
,let me look at i t.”
Strange girl ! ” said the captain, unsheathing hissword with a smile. The Egyptian looked at the handle,and at the blade
,ex amined with especial curiosi ty the
cipher on the hilt,and kissed the weapon saying : Y ou
belong to a brave man .’
As she bent over i t,Phoebus availed himself of this 0p
portunity to imprint a ki ss upon her beautiful neck . Thegirl suddenly raised her head
,with a face crimsoned like a
cherry. The priest gnashed his teeth in the dark .
Captain Phoebus,
”the Egyptian again began
,
“let metal k to you. Just stand up and
'
walk,and let me hear
your spurs rattle. Gemini ! how handsome you areThe captain rose in compliance with her wish
,and said
in a tone o f rebuke,yet with a smile of satisfaction,
Why,how childish you are But
,my dear, did
you ever see me in my state uniform ?Ah
,no replied she.
You would say that is handsome .Phoebus went and aga in seated himself beside her, but
much closer than before .Hark you
,my dear
The Egyptian patted his lips with her pretty hand,with
the grace and playfulness o f a child. No,no
,I won ’t
hearken to you . Do you love me I want you to tell meif you love me.
Do I love thee, angel of my life ?” exclaimed the
captain half sinking upon his knee . My body,my soul ,
rna B UNCHBAOK 01? mom s -Damn. 255
my all all i s thine. I love thee, and never loved an ybut thee.The captain had so often repeated this declaration in
many a similar conjun cture, that he brought i t ou t withou t boggling or making a single blunder. At thi s impassioned apostrophe, the Egyptian raised her eyes wi th alook of angeli c happiness towards the dirty ceiling whichhere usurped the place of heaven . Oh she softlymurmured, this i s the moment at which one ought todie Phoebus thought i t a seasonable moment for stealing another kiss, which infli cted fresh torment on themiserable archdeacon in his hiding- place .To die cried the amorous captain . What are you
talking of, my angel ? Why,’
tis the very time to live,
or Jupiter is a cheat ! Die at such a moment as this !A goo dj oke
,by the devil
’
s horns No , no, that won’t
do. Hark ye,my dear Similar I beg pardon
,
E smenarda but you have such a prodigiously ou tlandi sh name
,that I can
’
t beat i t into my head .
Good God said the poor girl,and I thought i t a
pretty name for its singul ari ty. But, sin ce you dislike i t,I will change i t to whatever you please .
”
Nay, my darling, don’
t think about such trifles !’
tis
a name one must get used to, that’
s all . When once Ihave learned i t by heart
,I shall say i t off-hand . But
li s ten,my dear Similar : I passionately adore you . I
cannot tell how much I love you : and I know a damselwho is bursting wi th rage about i t .
W ho i s that ? ” enquired the jealous girl .That is nothing to the purpose, said Phoebus . Do
you love me PDo I said she .Well
,that is enough . You shall see how I love you
too. May the great devil Neptunu s spi t me upon hisprong, if 1 don
’
t make you the happiest girl in the world !We will have a pretty little box somewhere or other. Myarchers shall parade under your windows . They are al lon horseback, and Captain Mignon
’
s are fools to them . Iwill take you to the Grange de Rul ly — ’ tis a magnificen tsight. Eighty thousand stand of arms ; thirty thousand
ra n nux onaaox or atom s -Dan s . 257
Dom Claude, meanwhile, was watching all that passed.The planks of which the door was made were so de cayedas to leave large chasms for his hawk
’
s eye. The pries tqui vered and boiled at the scene . The sight of the beauteous
girl passively yielding herself to the ardent offi cer seemedto infuse molten lead into his veins. An extraordinarycommotion took place within him . Whoe ver coul d haveseen, at tha t momen t, the face of the unhappy man closelypressed against the crevi ces of the door, would have takeni t for the face of a tiger looking through the bars of a
cage at some j ackal devouring a gazell e. His eye flamedlike a candle through the chasms .All at once
,Phoebus snatched away the neckerchief of
the Egyptian . The poor girl, who had continued pale andthoughtful
,started up, and has tily retreated f rom the en ter
prising officer. Casting a glance at her bare shoulders,
blushing,confused, and dumb with shame, she crossed her
two finely turned arms over her bosom to c onceal i t. Butfor the flush that crimsoned her cheeks
,whoever had seen
her thus silen t,motionless, and wi th downcas t eyes, would
ha ve taken her for a statue of Modesty.This attack of the captain’s upon her toilet had uncovered
the mysterious amulet which she wore about her neck.What is that P” said he
,sei zing this pre text for approach
ing the beautiful creature whom hi s vehemence had j ustalarmed.
Touch i t not, answered she, sharply”t is my pro
tec tor. I t i s this that will enable me to find my family, i fI do nothing unworthy of it. Oh leave me, captain, I beseech
you ! Ah mother ! my poor mother ! where art thou ?Help, help thy child ! Pray, captain Phoebus, gi ve me myneckerchief
Oh Mad emoiselle !” said Phoebus, s tepping back, in a
tone of indi ffe rence, I see plainly that you love me not.”
Not love him ! ” exclaimed the unhappy girl, at thesame time clinging to the captain
,and making him si t
down by her. Not love thee,my Phoebus ! Naughty
man to say so ! Wouldst thou break my heart Ohtake me do with me what thou wilt ; I am thine. Ofwhat use to me is the amulet ! what need have I of a mo.
258 THE B UNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
‘
ther ! to me thou art father and mother,sin ce I love thee !
Phoebus, my beloved Phoebus, look at me ; thou wilt notput away from thee one who comes to place herself in thyhands ! My soul, my life, my person, are all thine. Well ,we will not marry, i f that i s disagreeable to thee. And theriW hat am I a poor vagabond
,whilst thou art a gen
tl eman. A dancing-girl marry an officer ! I must havebeen silly indeed No, Phoebus, no : I wi ll be thy mistress
,thine amusement, thy pleasure — thine, and thine
al one ! I am fi t for nothing better : sullied, despised, dishonoured— but no matter ! so I am but loved
,I shall be
the proudest and the happiest of women . And when I amgrown old and ugly, Phoebus , when I shall be no longer fi tfor thee to love, then permit me to be thy servant. Othersshall then embroider scarfs for thee
,but thou wilt let me
clean thy boots and thy spurs, and brush thy uniformThou will grant me that indulgence, wilt thou not, my Phoebus ? Meanwhile take me ; let me belong to thee, and be theonly object of thy love ! We Egyptians want nothing elsebut air and love.As she thus spoke, she threw her arms round the neck of
the officer,and wi th a sweet smile and tearful eye fixe d
upon him a beseeching look. The captain pressed hisburning lips to her bosom . The gi rl sunk backward
,
thrilling and palpitating under that kiss.All at on ce above the head of the captain she beheld
another head a livid,green
,convulsive face
, wi th the lookof one of the damned close to this face was a hand holdinga dagger. I t was the face and the hand of the priest. Unperceived by them
,he had contrived to break open the crazy
door,and there he was ! The girl was struck speechless
and motionless with horror by this terrible apparition likea dove raising her head at the moment when a falcon withglaring eyes i s looking into her nest. She had not eventhe power to shriek . She saw the dagger descend uponthe captain
,and rise again reeking .
“Perdition ! ” heexclaimed, and fell . She swooned.
At the moment when her eyes closed, and her senseswere forsaking her
,she thought that she felt a kiss, burn
ing as a hot iron, impressed upon her lips . On coming
'rnn HUNa AcK or NOTRE -DAME. 259
to herself,she was surrounded by soldiers belonging to the
watch . The captain was carried away bathed in his blood.The priest was gone . The window at the farther end Ofthe chamber, which looked towards the river, was wideOpen .
’
A cloak, supposed to belong to the Officer,was
picked up,and she heard the men saying to one another
,’Ti s a sorceress who has stabbed a captain .
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME .
wa s nononna cx or new s -pm . 61
la ribus et irregularibua, which he in tended to get printedwith the firs t money he should have.
’
For he was overhead and ears in love with prin ting, ever since he hadseen the Dida skalon of Hugo St. Victor, prin ted with thecelebrated types of Vindelin of Spire .One day, while sorrowfully passing the Tournelle, a
pri son for criminals,be perceived a concourse Of people
about one of the doors of the Palace Of Justi ce. Whati s going forward here ? ” he asked a young man who wascoming ou t.I know not, sir, answered the young man. I am
told that they are trying a woman for murdering an Oflicerof the king’s ordnan ce . As there seems to be something Ofsorcery in the business
,the bishop and the offi cial have in
terfered, and my brother, the archdeacon of Josas, devotesall his time to i t. I wante d to speak to him, but coul d not
ge t at him for the crowd, which vexed me exceedingly, asI am in great need of money.”
Al as, sir said Gringoire, I wish i t was in mypower to lend you some bu t my breeches are all in holes,not with crown s or any o ther coin, I can assure you .
”
He durst not tell the young man that he knew his brother
,the archdeacon
,whom he had never call ed upon
s ince the scene in the church, a neglect of which he felta shamed.The scholar went his way
,and Gringoire followed the
crowd who were ascending the great staircas e . In his estimation there was nothing like a criminal trial for dispellingmelancholy
,the j udge s being in general so amusingly
s tupid . The people wi th whom he had mingled moved onand elbowed one another in silence. After a slow andtires ome shuffling along an endless passage
,which ran
winding through the palace like the in tes tina l canal Of theOld structure
,he arri ved at a low door Opening into a hall,
which, from his tal l s tature, he was enabled to overlookabove the undulating heads of the crowd .
The hull was Spacious and dark, which made i t appears till larger. The day was declining the tall poin tedwindows admitted but a fain t light
,which expired before i t
reached the vaulted roof, an enormous trell is of carveds 8
262 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
woodwork,the thousand figures of which seemed to move
confusedly in the dusk. There were already severalligh ted candles here and there upon the tables
,whi ch
threw their,rays upon the heads Of clerks poring over
heaps'
Of papers. The anterior part of the hall was occu
p ied by the crowd ; on the right and left were lawyersseated at tables at the farther end
,upon a raised platform
,
a great number Of judges, men with immoveable and sin ister—looking faces, the last rows Of whom were scarcelydiscernible for the darkness . The walls were sprinkledwith abundance Of fleurs de lis . A large crucifix was indistinctly seen above the judges, and on every side anarray Of pikes and halberts
,which the light Of the candles
seemed to tip with fire .Sir, said Gringoire to one of his neighbours, who
are all those persons ranged in rows yonder, like prelate sin councilSir
,
” answered the neighbour,those are the coun
sel lors of the great chamber on the right,and the counsel
lors Of enquiry on the left ; the masters in black gowns,and the messires in red ones .And who is that great red porpoise above them ?
enquired Gringoire.That is monsieur the president.And thosew b ehind him continued Gringoire
,
who,as we have already Observed
,was not fond of magis
trates ; perhaps owing to the grudge which he bore thePalace Of Justice ever since his dramati c miscarriage .They are the masters Of requests Of the king
’
s hotel."
And that bear in front Of them ?The clerk to the court Of parliament.And that crocodile
,on the right ?
”
Master Philippe Lheulier, advocate extraordinary tothe king.
”
And that great black eat on the left ?”
Master Jacques Charmolue, the king’
s proctor in theecclesias tical court
,with the gentlemen of the Ofliciality.
But,I pray you, sir, what are all these worthy folks
about here ?They are trying somebody.
'rnn B UNCHBAOK OF NOTRE -DAME . 263
Who is i t ? I do not see the accused .
I t is a young woman, sir. She s tands with her backtowards us
,and we can
’
t see her for the crowd . W hy,there she is
,where you see that group Of halberts .
Do you know her name asked Gringoire.NO, sir, I am but just come : but I presume that
there is sorcery in the case, as the Official attends thetrial ."
Come on said our philosopher let us watch allthese lawyers banqueting on human flesh !
’
T is a sight aswell as any other.”
Here the bystanders imposed silence on the interlocutors . An important witness was under examination .
Gentlemen,
” said an Old woman in the middle Of thehal l, who was so muffled up as to look like a walking bundleOf rags
,gentlemen
,i t i s as true as that my name is
Falourdel,and that I have kept house for forty years at
the Pont St . Mi chel, and regul arly paid ren t, taxes, andrates . A poor Old woman now
,gentlemen , but once reck
oued handsome, though I say i t. One night I was spinning, when there comes a knock at my door. I askedl Vlro
’
s there ? and there was such a swearing IOpened the door : two men came in a man in black, witha comely officer. Noth ing was to be seen of the man inblack but his eyes
,for all the world like two burning coals
all the rest o f him was cloak and hat. St. Martha’
sroom ! ’ said they to me. That is my room up s tairs, gentlemen, my best room . They gave me a crown . I put i tinto my drawer
,saying to myself I t wi ll serve to-morrow
to buy tripe with at the shambles Of the Gloriette . Well,
we went up stairs,and while my back was turned
,the
man in black was gone . This staggered me a li ttle . TheOfficer, as handsome a gentleman as you would wish to seteyes on, went down stairs with me, and out he goes.
0. By
the time I had spun a quarter Of a bobbin,in he comes
again with a pretty poppet of a damsel,who would have
dazzled you like the sun if she had been properly ti red.She had with her a goat
,a large goat ; i t migh t be black,
i t might be white,I don’t recollect now. The girl that
was no concern of mine— but the goat put me out, I must8 4:
rm : nux oanacx or mou rn-Dam s. 265
‘with the goblimmonk to rob the offi cer. —'
Gringoirehimself could scar cely help thinking that there was someprobabili ty in the conj ecture.Witness
,said the presiden t in a dignified manner,
ha ve you nothing further to communicate to the court P"
No,my lord
,
” rep lied the old woman, only thati n the report my house is called a crazy filthy hovel
,which
is a scandalous falsehood. To be sure the houses on thebridge are notjso goodly as some, but yet the butchers liketo li ve in them
,and they are people well to do in the
world, and their wives are as proper comely women as youwould wish to see .”
The magistrate whom Gringoire had lik ened to a cro
codi le now rose. Silence said he. I beg you , mylord and gen tlemen
, to bear in mind that a dagger wasfound upon the accused . Witness
,have you brought wi th
you the leaf in to which the crown given you by the demonwas changed ?
"
Yes,sir
,she replied, here i t is .
An usher handed the dead leaf to the crocodile, whogave a sinister shake of the head, and passed i t to the president and the presiden t sent i t to the king’s proctor inthe ecclesiasti cal court ; so that i t went the round of thehall . Upon my word, a birch leaf ejacul ated Mas terJacques Charmolue : a fresh proof of sorcery !
"
A counsellor then rose and spoke. Witness, said he,two men went up stairs together at your house ; a manin black, who immediately disappeared, andwhom you afterwards saw swimming in the Seine
,in the habi t of a priest,
and the officer. Whi ch of the two gave you the crown ? ”
The old woman considered for a moment. I t was theoffi cer,
” said she.A murmur again ran through the court.
thought Gringoire, that alters the case materially.Master Philip Lheulier, advocate extraordinary to the
king, again in terposed . Let me remind you, my lord andgen tlemen, that the officer, in hi s deposi tion, taken in writ.ing by his bedside
,while admitting that he had a confused
idea , at the moment when he was accosted by the man inblack, that i t might be the goblin-monk, added, that the
'
266 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
'phantom had strongly pressed him to keep his appointmen t'with the accused ; and, when the said captain observed thathe had no money
,he gave him the crown with which the
offi cer paid the witness Falourdel . The crown therefore i sa coin of hell .”
This con clusive observation appeared to dispel all thelingering doubts of Gringoire and the other sceptics amongthe audience.Gentlemen are in possession of the papers
,added the
-king’
s advocate,si tting down they can refer to the de
position of Captain Phoebus de Chateaupers .”
At that name the accused rose . Her head was seenabove the crowd . To his horror
,Gringoire recognised La
E smeralda.She was pale ; her hair, once so gracefully plaited, and
s tudded with sequins, was dishevelled ; her lips were livid,her eyes hollow . Alas ! what a change !
Phoebus !” exclaimed she wildly,
“where is he ?
0 my lords,before you put me to death
,for mercy
’
s saketell me if he still li ves ! ”
Silence, prisoner !” replied the president we have
nothing to do with that.”
If you have any pity, tell me if he is alive she resumed
,clasping her attenuated hands and her chains were
heard to rustle along her dress .IVel l,
” said the king’
s advocate dryly,he i s dying.
— Are you satisfied ?The unhappy girl sank down again upon her seat, voice
less, tearless, white as a waxen image .The president stooped towards a man placed at his feet,
who had a gold- laced cap,a black gown, 'a chain about his
neck,and a wand in his hand. Usher, bring in the se
cond pri soner.”
All eyes turned towards a small door which opened,and ,
to the extreme agitation of Gringoire, in walked a prettygoat with gilt horns and hoofs . The elegan t creature stopped for a moment on the threshold, stretching out her neck,as if
,perched on the poin t of some rock
,she was overlook
ing a vast plain beneath her. All at once she descried theBohemian
,and
,springing over the table and the head of a
'rnE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
'
267
clerk of the court, in two leaps she was at her knees shethen nestled gracefully on the feet of her mistress, solicitinga word or a caress : but the prisoner remained motionless,and poor Dj ali herself could not obtain even a look .
.Nay, by my fay’tis the same nasty beast,
”cried old
Falourdel. I could swear positively to them both .
”
If i t so pleaseth you,my lord and gentlemen, began
Charmolue, we wil l proceed to the examination of thesecond prisoner.
"
The second prisoner was the goat, sure enough . Nothingwas more common in those days than to indict animals forsorcery . I n the accounts o f the provosty for 1466
,we
find,among others
,the curious details of the costs of the
trial of Gillet-Soulart and his sow, executed for theirc rimes at Corbeil .” Every item is there : the charge forthe place of confinemen t made for the sow, the five hundredbundles of wood carried to the port of M orsant
,the three
quarts of wine and the bread,the last meal of the sufferer,
fraternally shared by the executioner,even to the eleven
days ’ keep and subsistence of the sow at eight deniers Parisis each . Sometimes
,indeed
,ou r pious an cestors went still
farther than animals . The capitularies of Charlemagneand Louis ls Débonnaire decree the infliction of severe punishments upon those luminous phantoms which have theaudacity to appear in the air.The proctor of the ecclesiastical court then pronoun ced
this solemn denunciation If the demon which possesses this goat
,and which has withstood all the exorcisms
that have been tried, persists in his wicked courses, andshocks the court wi th them
,we forewarn him that we shall
be forced to demand that he be sentenced to the gallows orthe stake .Cold pe rspiration covered the face of Gringoire . Char
molue took from a table the tambourine of the Egyptian,
held i t in a parti cul ar way to the goat,and asked
,W
'
hathour is i t ? ”
The goat eyed him with intelligen t look,raised her gi l t
foot and struck seven strokes . I t was actually seven o ’clock .
A shudder of terror thr il led the crowd. Gringoire couldno longer contain himself.
'rnE nvuca a acx or norms-Dan s . 269
Do you persi st in denying i t ?” asked the president,
coldl y.Do I deny i t ! said she in a fearful tone, and with
flashing eye, as she rose from her seat.Then
,
” proceeded the president, calmly, how do you
explain the facts lai d to your charge ?”
In broken accen ts,she repli ed : I have al ready told you.
I know not. I t was a pries t— a pries t, a stranger to me— an infern al priest who haun ts me
There i t is !” resumed the judge the goblin
monk .
"
O sirs, have pi ty upon me ! I am but a poor girl .Of Egypt
,
” continued the j udge.Master Jacques Charmolue, in his gen tlest, softes t tone,
then said,In consequen ce of the painful obs tinacy of
the pri soner,I demand the appli cation of the torture."
Gran ted,said the presiden t.
The unhappy girl shook all over. She rose,however
,
at the order of the halberdiers , and, preceded by Charmolue
and the officers of the ofiiciality, walked wi th tolerably firms tep, between two files of partisans, towards a low door,whi ch suddenly Opened
,and closed after her . To Grin
goire i t seemed as though she had been swallowed up by thegaping j aws of some monster. As soon as she had disappeared , a plainti ve bleating was heard . I t was the poor
goa t bewail ing the loss of her mi stress .The proceedings were suspended . A coun sellor observed
tha t the judges must be fatigued, and that they would bedetained a long time if they wai ted for the con clusion of
the torture to whi ch the presiden t repli ed,that a magi
trate ought to have learn ed to sacri fice personal convenienceto his duty.
The provoking hussy said an old judge, to bringthe torture upon herself just now
,when we ought to be at
supper
270 , THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE -DAME .~
CHAPTER I I .
SEQUEL TO THE CROW N TRANSFORMED INTO A DR Y LEAF. ‘
HAVING ascended and descended some steps in passagesso dark that they were lighted in broad day by lamps
,La
Esmeralda, stil l surrounded by her dismal escort, was thrustby the sergeants of the Palace into a room of sinister aspect.This room, of circular shape, occupied the ground-floor of
one of the towers that at the present day sti ll perforatethe stratum of modern edifices with which new Paris hascovered the old ci ty. There were no windows in this dungeon, neither was there any other aperture than the low en
tran ce closed by a strong iron door. At the same timethere was no want of light : in the massive substance ofthe wall there was a furnace
,in which burned a large fire
,
that threw a red glare over the den, and qui te eclipsed thelight of a miserable candl e placed in a corner. The ironportculli s
,whi ch served as a door to the furnace
,was drawn
up at that moment, so that at i ts flaming m onth therewere to be seen only the lower extremities of its bars
,re
sembling a row of black,sharp, parted teeth which made
the furnace look like the mouth of one of those dragons of .
the legends vomiting fire and smoke. By the light whi chi t di ffused
,the prisoner perceived around the room a variety
of instruments,the uses of which were unknown to her.
I n the middle was a leathern mattress laid almost flat uponthe floor
,on which hung a thong with a buckle, fastened
to a copper ring,whi ch a grotesque monster scul ptured in
the keystone of the vaul ted ceiling held between his teeth .
Tongs,pin cers
,broad ploughshares
,lay pell-mell
,heating
in the fire in the interior of the furnace . I ts blood-redflare presented to the eye in the whole circumference of thechamber nought but an assemblage of fearful objects. ThisTartarus was merely called the chamber of the question.
On the bed was carelessly seated Pierrat Torterue, thesworn tormentor .” His assistants
,two square- faced
ra n HUNCHBACK OF Norri s -DAME . 27 1
gnomes,with leathern aprons and linen breeches
,were
stirring the coals under the iron implements .The poor girl had need to muster her courage : on en
tering this den she was struck with horror. The sergeantsOf the bailiff Of the Palace ranged themselves on one side,
’
and the priests of the Officiality on' the other. In One
corner was a table,at which sat a clerk wi th pen
,ink
,and
paper.Master JacquesCharm olue approached theEgyptian with
one of his kindest smiles . My dear girl,”said he
,do
you persis t in your denialY es
,
”she replied in a voice scarcely audible.
In that case, rejoined Charmolue,“ i t will be very
painful to us to ques tion you more urgently than we would .
Take the trouble to si t down onthis bed . Master Pierrat,
give place to this young woman,and shut the door.
Pierrat rose growling . I f I shut the door,muttered
he,my fire will go out.Well then
,my good fell ow
,repliedCharmolue, leave
it Open .
”
Meanwhile La Esmeralda remained standing . Thatleathern bed, on which so many wretched creatures hadwrithed in agony
,frightened her. Horror thrilled the
very marrow of her bones : there she stood bewildered,s tupified . At a sign from Charm olue, the two assistan tslaid hold of her, and placed her in a si tting posture on thebed . Those men did not hurt her
,but when they grasped
her,when the leather touched her, she fel t all her blood
flow back to her heart. She looked wildl y around theroom . She fancied that she saw those ugly implemen ts oftorture which were
,among the instrumen ts of all kinds
that she had hi therto seen,what bats
,millepedes
,
'andspiders are among birds and reptiles quitting their placesand advancing from every part Of the room towards her
,
to'
crawl over her,and to bite
,pinch
,and s ting her.
t ere is the doctor ? ” asked Charmolue.
Here,”answered a man in a black gown, whom she
had not yet noti ced.
She shuddered .
resumed the smoo th tongue of the
THE HUNOHBAOK OF NOTRE-DAM E . 273
from sight in the iron-bound apparatus. Terror then re
sto red her strength . Take i t Off cried she wildly,at
the same time starting up. For mercy’
s sake !” She
sprang from the bed with the inten tion Of throwing her.self at the fee t of the king
’
s proctor ; but, her leg bei ngconfined in the heavy block Of oak sheathed wi th iron, shesank down powerless as a bee having its wings loaded wi thlead. On a sign from Charmolue, she was replaced on the
bed, and two coarse hands fas tened round her slender wai stthe thong that hung from the ceiling.For the last time
,
” said Charmolue, wi th his imperturbable benigni ty, do you confess the crimes lai d toyour charge ?
”
I am innocent.Then how do you explain the circumstances allege:
against youAl as
,sir
,I know not.
Y ou deny thenEvery thing ! ”
Begin,” said Charmolue to Pierrat.
Pierrat turned a screw ; the buskin became more andmore con tracted
,and the wretched sufferer gave one of
those horrible shrieks which baffle the orthography of everyhuman language.Hold ! ” said Charmolue to Pierrat. Do you con
fess he then asked the Egyptian .
Every thing cried the miserable girl. I confessmercy ! mercyIn defying the torture she had not calculated her
strength. Poor thing her life had til l then been so
bright,so cheery, so j oyous — the first pang overcame
her.Hum anity obliges me to inform you
,Observed the
king’
s proctor, that,though you confes s, you have nothing
but death to expect.”
I wish for it,”said she. And she sank back upon the
leathern bed, suspended, as if lifeless, by the thong buckledround her waist.
So, my pretty — hold up a li ttle said Mas ter Pier.
'r
274 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
rat,raising her. You look like the golden sheep about
the neck of Monsieur of Burgundy .Jacques Charmolue again raised his voice. C lerk
,
write . Bohemian girl, you confess your participation inthe feasts
,sabbaths, and practices of hell, with daemons,
'
sorcerers,and witches ? Answer.”
Yes,” said she in so low a tone as to be scarcely heard.
You confess that you have seen the ram,which Beel ze
bub displays in the clouds to summon his children to theirsabbath
,and which is seen only by sorcerers ?
Yes.”
You confess that you have had commerce with thedevil in the shape Of the goat implicated in
lthese pro
ceedings
Yes .Lastly, you declare and confess that, instigated by, and
with the assistance of the devil and the gobl in-monk, youdid
,on the nigh t Of the 29th of March last, kil l and slay a
captain, named Phoebus de ChateaupersShe fixed her glazed eyes upon the magistrate
,and re
plied,as if mechanically
,without shock or con vulsion
,
Yes . — It was evident that her spiri t was utterly broken .
Write,clerk
,said Charmolue. Then turning to Pier
rat’s men Loose the prisoner,”he proceeded
,and let
her be taken b ack in to court.” When the buskin wasremoved
,the proctor examined her foot, s til l numbed with
the pain . Come,come
,
” said he,
’tis not much the;worse .
Y ou cried ou t in time . You would soon be able to danceas well as ever
,my beauty Then addressing the priests
Of the Officiality, Justice is enlightened at last, said he.'Tis a consolation
,gentlemen and the damsel will bear
witness that we have shown her all possible lenity .”
'rnn HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 275
CHAPTER I I I .
CONCLUSION OF THE CROW N TRANSFORMED INTO A DR Y LEAF.
WHEN she again entered the court, pale and hal ting, shewas greeted wi th a general buzz of pleasure. On the partof the auditory
,i t arose from that feeling of gratified im
patien ce which is experienced at the theatre, at the conelusion of the last in terlude Of a play, when the curtainrises
,and the fifth act begins ; and on the part of the
judges, from the prospect of being soon dismissed to theirsuppers . The poor li ttle goat
,too, bleated for joy . She
would have run to her mistress,but she had been tied to a
bench .
I t was now dark night. The candles, having receivedno accession to their number
,gave so fain t a light that the
walls Of the court were not discernible. The darknessenveloped Objects in a sort Of haze . A few unfeeling facesof judges alone were with diffi culty distinguishable . Op
posite to them , at the other extremity Of the long hall, theycould perceive an undefined patch Of white moving alongthe dark floor. I t was the prisoner.She advan ced with faltering steps to her place . When
Charmolue had magisterially resumed possession of his, hesat down presently rising again
,he said
,wi thout too
strongly betraying the vani ty Of success “The accused hasconfessed the crime .
”
Bohemian girl, began the presiden t, you have confessed then al l your misdeeds Of magic
,of prosti tution
,and
of murder committed on the body of Phoebus de Chateau
pets
Her heart was wrung,and she was heard to sob in the
dark .
“Whatever you please,answered she fain tly,
only put me to death soonMr. Proctor,
” said the president,
the court is ready tohear your requ isitions.”
m s HUNOB BACK or wor s e -Dam s : 277
In the Sali c law there i s this clause I f a witch haveeaten a man
,and she be convic ted of i t, she shall pay
a fine of eight thousand deniers,which make two hundred
sous in gold .
’ May i t please the court then to sen ten cemy clien t to pay this fine.
”
That clause is be come Obsolete,said the advocate
extraordinary to the king.Nego repli ed the advocate of the prisoner.To the vote sai d a counsellor the crime is
proved, and i t is late .”
The question was put to the vote without leaving thecourt. The judges decided Off-hand : they were pressedfor time. Their capped heads were seen uncovered one
after another in the dusk,as the question was put to them
successively in a low tone by the judge . The poo r priaouer appeared to be looking at them but her dim eye nolonger saw the Objects before i t.The clerk of the court began wri ting
,and then handed
a long parchment to the president. The unhappy girlheard a bustle among the people
,pikes clashing together,
and a chilling voice pronoun ce these wordsBohemian girl, on such day as i t shall please our
lord the king,at the hour Of noon
, you shall be drawn ina tumbrel, stripped to your shift
,barefoot
,with a rope
about your neck,to the great porch Of the church Of
Notre-Dame, and shall there do penance, holding in yohand a wax taper Of two pounds
’
weight ; and thence youshall be taken to the Place de Greve
,and there banged by
the neck on the gallows of the C i ty ; and thi s your goatlikewise ; and you shall pay to the Offi cial three gold lionsin reparation of the crimes by you committed and by youconfess ed, o f sorcery
,magic
,incon tinence
,and murder
done upon the body of Sieur Phoebus de Chateaupers. Godreceive your soul
Oh’
ti s a dream murmured the prisoner, and shefel t rough hands bearing her away.
278 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
CHAPTER IV.
LASCIATE OGN I SPERANZA.
IN the middle ages, when a building was complete, therewas almost as much Of i t under ground as above . A palace
,
a fortress, a church, had always a double basement, unles s i tstood upon piles like Notre-Dame . Under a cathedral therewas a kind Of subterraneous church
,low
,dark
,mysterious
,
blind,and mute
,beneath the upper nave
,which was
resplendent with light and rang with the pealing of organsand bells
,night
’
and day : sometimes i t was a catacomb .
I n palaces,in basti lles
,i t was a prison, sometimes a sepul
chre,and sometimes both together. These mighty edifi ces
,
the mode of whose formation and vegetation we have elsewhere described
,had notmerely foundations
,but
,as i t were
,
roots,which shot ou t into the soil in chambers
,in galleries
,
in staircases,like the building above them . Thus churches,
palaces,bastilles
,were buried up to the middl e in the
ground. The vaul ts Of a building were another building,to which you descended instead of ascending, and whichclapped its subterraneous stories beneath the exterior storiesof the edifice
,like those woods and mountains which ap
pear reversed in the mirror of a lake beneath the woodsand mountains rising from its banks .At the Bastill e St. Antoine
,at the Palace of Justice, at
the Louvre,these subterraneous edifices were prisons . The
stories of these prisons became more and more contractedand gloomy
,the lower you descended . They were so
many zones pervaded by differen t shades of horror.Dan te could not find any thing more sui table for his hell .These funnels of dungeons usually terminated in a deephole gradually widening from the bottom upward
,in whi ch
Dante has placed his Satan,but where society confined
cul prits under sen ten ce Of death . W hen on ce a miserablewretch was thus buried
,farewell to light
,to air
,to life, to
every hope : there was no leaving the place but for the
THE HUNCHBACK OF r ou t s -DAME. 279
gallows or the stake. Sometimes the prisoner was left tomoulder there human justi ce called this f orgetting . Thecondemned felt himself cut Off from hi s kind by a superincumbent moun tain Of stones and a host Of gaolers ; andthe entire prison, the massive bastille, was but one enormous compli cated lock, whi ch shut him out from the livingworld .
Into a dungeon of this kind — the oubh’
ettes dug by SaintLouis
,the in pace Of the Tournelle La Esmeralda was
thrust after her condemnation,no doubt for fear of escape
,
with the colossal Palace of Justice over her head . Poorgirl ! she coul d not have stirred the smallest of the stonesOf which i t was built. There needed not such a profusionof misery and torture to crush so frai l a creature .There she was
,wrapt in darkness
,buried, entombedrk
immured . Whoever had beheld her in this state, afte r"
having seen her sporting and dancing in the sun,would
have shuddered . Cold as night,cold as death
,not a
breath of air in her dark locks, not a human sound in herear
,not a glimmer of light in her eyes
,weighed down with
chains, bent double, crouched beside a pitcher and a loafOf bread
,on a l i ttle straw, in the pool formed beneath her
by the water that dripped from the walls of her dungeon,motionless and scarcely breathing what more could shesuffer ? Phoebus
,the sun
,the day- light
,the free air, the
streets of Paris, the dances which had won her such ap
plause ; her love-prattle with the Officer then the priest,the dagger
,the blood
,the torture
,the gallows ; all thi s
had again passed before her mind, sometimes like a gay andgolden vision, at others like a hideous nightmare : but i twas now no more than a horrible and indistinct struggle,which was veiled in darkness
,or than di stant music played
above on the earth,and which was not heard at the depth
in to which the unfortunate creature was sunk . Since she
had been there,she had not waked
,she had not slept. In
this profound wretchedness, in the gloom of this dungeon,she could no more distinguish waking from sleeping,dream from reali ty
,than night from day . She had ceased
to feel, to know, to think
'
at the utmost she mused .'r 4
'rnn mmcnnacx or NOTRE ° DAME . 28 1
ing through a cranny in a kind of trapdoor placed in thevaul ted roof of the in pa ce. At the same time the heavyiron bars rattled the door grated on i ts ru sty hinges i tturned
,and she saw a lantern, a hand, and the nether
ex trem i ties of two figures, the door'
being too low for herto perceive their heads. The light so painfully affectedher that she closed her eyes .When she opened them again
,the door was shut
,a lan
tern was placed on one of the steps, and something l ike ahuman form stood before her. A black wrapper descendedto its feet : a hood, Of the same colour, concealed the face.Nothing was to be seen Of the person
,not even the hands.
The figure looked like a long black winding- sheet standing upright
,under which something migh t be perceived
moving. For some minutes she kept her eyes intentlyfixed on this spectral shape. Neither spoke. Y ou wouldhave taken them for two statues confronting each other.Two things only gave signs of l ife in the dungeon : thewi ck Of the lan tern which crackled owing to the dampnessOf the atmosphere
,and the drip Of the roof breaking this
irregular crepitation by its monotonous plash,which
caused the light of the lantern to dance in concentri c ringson the 0i surface of the pool.At length the prisoner broke sil ence .Who are you ?
”
A priest.The word
,the accent
,the voice made her shudder.
Are you prepared ? ” asked the priest, in a low tone.For whatTo die .”
Oh said she ; will i t be soon ?TO-morrow.
”
Her head, which she had rai sed with a look Of joy,again sank upon her bosom .
’
Tis a long time till then,
”
murmured she. W hy not to-day ? What differen cecould i t have made to them ?
Y ou must be very unhappy,then said the priest
after a moment’s silence.I am very cold
,
” she replied. She clasped her feetwith her hands, and her tee th chattered.
282 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
The priest seemed from beneath the hood to cast hiseyes around the dungeon . Without light wi thout fire !in the water ! ’Tis horrible
Yes,answered she, with that air Of timidi ty, which
suffering had imparted every body enj oys the light.Why should I be thrust into darkness ?
DO you know,
”resumed the priest
,after another
pause,why you are here ?
”
I think I did know,” said she, passing her attenuated
fingers over her brow,as if to assist her memory
,but I
don ’ t now.
”
Al l at once , she burst out a- crying lik e a child . Iwant to leave this place
,sir. I am cold, I am afraid, and
there are loathsome things which crawl up me .Well, come along with me .With these words the priest took hold of her arm . The
wretched girl was chilled to her inmost Vitals,yet that
hand produced a sensation Of cold.
Oh murmured she,i t i s the i cy hand Of death
who are you then P”
The priest pushed back his hood. She looked at him .
I t was that sinister face whi ch had so long haun ted her,that daemon-head which had appeared to her at Falourdel
’
s
above the head of her adored Phoebus, that eye whi ch shehad last seen gli stening near a dagger.Thi s apparition
,always so baneful to her
,and which
had thus hurried her on from misery to mi sery, rousedher from her stupor. The thick veil which seemed tohave spread itself over her memory was rent asunder. Allthe circumstances Of her dismal adven ture, from the nightscene at Fal ourdel
’
s to her condemnation '
at La Tournelle,
rushed at once upon her mind,not vague and confused as
at the time Of their occurrence,but distinct, fresh, pal
pitating, terrible. These recollections, almost obli teratedby the excess of her sufferings
,were revived by the sombre
figure before her ; as the invisible words wri tten withsympathetic ink upon whi te paper are brought ou t quitefresh on i ts being held to the fire. All the wounds ofher heart seemed to be torn Open afresh, and to bleed atonce.
m s nux onnacx or NOTE S -DAME. 283
Ha cried she,wi th a convulsi ve tremor, and hold
ing her hands over her eyes, i t i s the pries t ! ” Presen tlydropping her enfeebled arms
,she remained si tting, her
‘
head bent forward,her eye fixed on the ground, mute and
trembling. The priest looked at her with the eye of a
hawk, which has long been descending in silence from thetopmost heigh t of the heavens
,in circles gradually more
and more contracted around a poor lark squatting in the
corn,and
,having suddenly pounced like winged lightning
upon his prey,clutches the panting victim in his talons .
She began to murmur in a faint tone Finish !finish ! Give the last blow and she bowed down herhead with terror
,like the lamb awaitin the fatal stroke
from the hand of the butcher.At length he asked
,Are you afraid of me then ?
She made no reply .Are you afraid of me he repeated.
Her lips were compressed as though she smiled.Yes,
”said she
,the executioner j eers the condemned.
For months he has been haunting,threatening, terrifying
me ! But for him , 0 God, how happy I shoul d be’
Tis
he who has hurled me into this abyss’
tis he who killedhim — who killed my Phoebus Sobbing vehemen tly,she raised her eyes to the priest . WVhO are you,wretch ?
”she exclaimed . What have I done to you ?
Why shoul d you hate me thus What grudge have youagains t me ?
I love thee ! said the priest.Her tears suddenl y ceased . She eyed him with the
vacant stare Of an idiot . He had meanwhile sunk uponhis knees, and gloated upon her with eye of fire .
Dost thou hear ? I love thee ! ” be repeated .
Ah ! what love !”ej aculated the unhappy creature
,
shuddering.
The love of the damned,he replied .
Both remained silent for some minutes, overwhehned bytheir emotions he fran ti c
,she stupid .
Lis ten,”at length sa id the priest
,who had all at once
recovered a wonderful degree of composure ; thou shaltknow all. I will tell thee what hi therto I have scarcely
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 285
the Virgin, had she l ived when he became man . Her eyes
were black and splendid : amidst her dark hair there werelocks
,which
,saturated, as i t were, by the sun
’
s beams,
shone like threads Of gold . Around her head,in her
black tresses there were pieces of metal, which sparkl edin the sun, and formed a coronet of s tars for her brow.
Her azure robe,besprinkled wi th a thousand spangles
,
glis tened like a summer night. Her feet,in thei r rapid
movemen ts appeared indistinct like the spokes of a wheelthat is whirling quickly round. Her brown and supplearm s were tied and untied around her body like two scarfs .Her figure was Of surpassing beauty. Oh the resplendentform , which had something luminous about i t even in thebroad sunlight ! Surprised, charmed, in toxica ted, I couldnot forbear watching thee : I looked till I shudderedI felt that the hand Of Fate was upon me.The pri es t
,Oppressed by emotion, again paused for a .
moment. He then proceededHal f fascinated already, I endeavoured to grasp at
something to break my fall . I recollec ted the snareswhich Satan had previously spread for me. The creaturebefore me possessed that superhuman beauty which canproceed only from heaven or from hell . She was not amere girl
,moulded of our common clay, and faintly lighted
within by the fli ckering ray Of a female spiri t. I t was anangel, but an angel of darkness of fire, not Of l ight. Atthe moment when these thoughts were crossing my brain,I saw near her a goat, a beast which associates wi thwitches. I t looked at me and laughed. The noontide suntipped i ts horns wi th flame. I then perceived the snareOf the daemon
,and had no further doubt that thou wert
come from hel l, and come for my perdi tion . I believed so .
”
The priest here looked s tedfastly in the face of theprisoner
,and coldly added : I believe so still .
“Meanwhile the charm began to Operate by degrees ..Thy dan cing turn ed my brain . I felt the mysterious spellupon me. All that should have waked in my soul waslulled to sleep ; and, like men perishing in the snow, Itook pleasure in yielding to this slumber. All at once I
286 THE E UNOE BAOK OF NOTRE -DAME.
heard thee begin to sing. What could I do ? Thy singing was more fascinating than thy dancing . I would havefled . Impossible. I was rivetted
,rooted
,to the spot. I was
forced to remain til l thOu hadst finished. My feet werei ce
,my head a furnace. At length, perhaps in
'
pity tome
,thy song ceased
,and I saw thee depart. The reflec
tion of the dazzling vision, the sounds Of the enchantingmusic
,vanished by degrees from my eyes
,and died away
in my ears. I then sank in to the corner Of the window,stiff and helples s as a fallen statue. The vespe r bel lawoke me I fled : but alas something had fallen withinme which I could no t rai se up something had come uponme
,from which I cou ld not flee ! ”
He made another pause and thus proceededYes
,from that day, I was possessed with a spirit that
was strange to me. I had recourse to my remedi es thecloister
,the altar, occupation, books. Follies ! 0 how
hollow science sounds when you dash against i t in despaira head filled with passions . Knowes t thou
,maiden
,what
thenceforth I al ways saw between the book and me ? Thee,thy shadow
,the image Of the luminous appari tion whi ch
had one day passed before me . But that image had nolonger the same colour : i t was sombre
,dark
,gloomy
,like
the black cir cle which long dances before the eye that hasbeen imprudent enough to gaze at the sun .
Haunted by it incessantly,incessantly he aring thy
song ringing in my ears, incessantly se eing thy feet dancingupon my breviary
,feeling each night in my dreams thy
form pressing against mine,I was desirous to behold
thee again, to touch thee, to know who thou wert, to ascer
tain whether thou resembleds t the ideal image impressedupon my mind
,to di spel perhaps the phan tasm by the
real i ty . At all events I hoped that a new impressionwould efface the first for the firs t had become intolerableto me. I sought thee. Again I beheld thee. When Ihad seen thee twice
,I wi shed to see thee a thousand times’
,
to have thee always in my sight. Then — who can s tophimself on the steep descent to perdi tion then was I nolonger my own master. I became a vagrant, like thyself.
THE B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 287
I wai ted for thee beneath porches, I lurked at the cornersOf streets
,I watched thee from my tower. Each night, on
examining mysel f, I found that I was more helpless, morespell-bound
,more bewitched
,more undone.
I learned who thou wert Egyptian, Bohemian,gitana, zingara. How could I longer doubt, that
,there
was witchcra ft in the case ! I hoped that the law wouldbreak the charm . A sorceress had bewitched Bruno d
’
As t
he caused her to be burned,and was cured . I knew him .
I resolved to try the same remedy . I n the first place IObtained an ordinance forbidding thee to appear in the precincts Of our church, hoping to forget thee if I should seethee no more. Reckless Of this prohibition thou camest asusual . Then did I conceive the idea Of carrying thee of .
One night I attempted to put i t in to execution . Therewere two Of us . We had thee al ready in our clutches
,
when that odious officer came up and rescued thee . Thusdid he commence thy sufferings
,mine
,and his own. At
length,not knowing what to do
,I denounced thee to the
Offi cial. I thought that I should be cured as Brunod
’
Ast was. I had also a confused notion that a judi cialprocess would del iver thee in to my power that in a prisonI should have thee, should hold thee ; that there thoucouldst not escape me . When one is doing evil
’
ti s madness to s top half-way. The ex tremity Of guilt has itsdelirium of rapture.I shoul d perhaps have renounced my design ; my
hideous idea would perhaps have evaporated from my brainwi thout producing any result. I imagined that i t woulddepend on me to follow up or to stop the proceedingswhenever I pleased. But every wicked thought is inex orabl e and hurries to become a fact ; and where I fanciedmyself all-powerful, Fate proved more migh ty than I .Al as alas i t was Fate that caught thee and threw theeamong the te rrible works of the machine whi ch I hadsecretly cons tructed. List to me. I have nearly done.
One day — another day Of lovely sunshine I sawa man walking before me
,who pronounced thy name, who
laughed, and whose eyes gli s tened wi th li centious desire . Ifollowed him thou knowest the rest.”
m s HUNCHBACK or nom nm a u l . 289
have nothing to offer her but the squalid cassock, which isto her an object of fear and disgust to be present, witha heart burs ting with jealousy and rage
,while she lavishes
on a silly braggart the treasures of“love and beauty to
see that bosom’
which i s more than heaven to you heaveand redden under the kisses of another to think of thatdeli cious form till you wri the for whole nights on the floorof your cell
,and to see all the endearments whi ch you
have reserved for her in imagination end in the torturethese
,these are pincers heated in the fire of hell ! Happy
in comparison is he who i s sawn asunder between two
planks, or quartered by horse s ! Knowes t thou what
agony i t is when,during the long nights, your arteries
boil, your heart is bursting, your head Splitting, and yourteeth tear your own flesh when you are turned in cessantlyas upon a red-hot gridiron by those inexorable tormen tors
,
love, jealousy, despai r ! Mercy, maiden relax for a mo
ment or,if i t must be so, torture me with one hand, but
fondle me with the other. Have pity on me, girl ! havepity on me !The priest rolled in the wate r on the floor and dashed
his head against the stone s teps of the dungeon . The Egyptian li stened to him
,looked at him . When he ceased speak
ing, breathless and exhaus ted, she repea ted in a low tone,O my PhoebusThe priest crawled towards her upon his knee s . I
implore thee, he cried,“if thou has t any compassion
, re
pul se me not. I love thee — I am miserable. When thouutterest that name, i t i s as if thou wert rending all thefibres of my heart. Only have pity . I f thou goes t tohell, I will go with thee . All that -I have done, I havedone] for this . The hell where thou art will be to me aparadise : the sight of thee is more entrancing than that ofGod ! 0 say, wilt thou not have me ? I shoul d havethought that the day when a woman could rej ect such lovethe mountains would dissolve . Oh ! i f thou wouldst, howhappy might we yet be ! W e would flee. I would enable thee to escape . we would seek that spot wherethere are the most trees
,the most
'
sunshine,the most azure
sky. W e would love, we would pour forth our souls intoU
290 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .~
each other’
s, and we would have that inextinguishable thirstof each other, which we would appease together and incessantly at the inexhaustible fount of love !
”
She interrupted him with a loud thrilling laugh . Look,father, you have blood upon your fingersThe priest, motionless for some moments, as if petrified,
looked stedfastly at hi s hand .
Why, yes, he at length replied with unwon ted mildness, abuse me, j eer me, overwhelm me but come,come ! Let us lose no time. I t will be to-morrow
,I tell
thee . The gibbet of the Greve — thou knowest the gibbet— it i s always ready . I t is horrible— to see thee drawnin that cart ! Oh, mercy, mercy ! Never did I feel as atthis moment how dearly I love thee ! Oh ! come alongwith me . Thou shalt take thine own time to love me afterI have saved thee. Thou shalt hate me as long as thouwilt. Only come . To-morrow tomm orrow the gallowsOh, save thyself, spare me 1
”
. In .a s tate approaching to madness, he seized her arm“
and would have hurried her along. She fixed her'
eyes in
tentlyupon him . What is become of my Phoebus sheenquired.Ah said the priest, loosing her arm from his grasp,
you have no pityWhat is become of Phoebus repeated she coldl y.He is dead,
"replied the priest.
Dead !”said she, still cold and passionless, then
why persuade me to live ?”
He heard her not. 0 yes said he,as if talking to
himself, he must be dead. I struck home. The poin tmust have reached his heart .The girl rushed upon him like an enraged tigress
,and
thrust him towards the steps with supernatural force : Be
gone,monster ! begone, murderer ! leave me to die ! May
the blood of us both mark thy brow with an everlastingstain ! Be thine
,priest ! Never ! never ! Nothing
shall bring us together, not even hell i tself . Avaunt,a
‘
o
cursed — neverThe priest had stumbled upon the steps. Silently dis-s
engaging his feet from the skirts of his cassock, he pi cked
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME . 291
up his lan tern and began slowly to ascend to the door : heopened i t and wen t forth . The prisoner gazed after him .
A ll at once his head again appeared stooping over the stairs.His face was ghastly . With a rattle of rage and despair,he cried
,I tell thee he i s dead !
She fell with her face to the ground ; and no sound wasthen to be heard in the dungeon save the plash of the dropping water
,which rippled the pool amid the profound
darkness .
CHAPTER V.
TH E MOTHER.
I CANNOT conceive any thing in the world more delightfulthan the ideas awakened in the heart of a mother at thesight of her child
'
s li ttle shoe, especially if i t be a holyday,a Sunday, a baptismal shoe a shoe embroidered downto the very sole ; a shoe upon which the infan t has neveryet stepped. This shoe is so small and so pretty i t i s soimpossible for i t to walk, that i t seems to the mother asthough she saw her child. She smiles at i t
,she kisses i t
,
she talks to it ; she asks herself if a foot can really be sosmall and
,if the infan t should be absen t
,the pretty shoe
i s sufficien t to set the swee t and tender creature before hereyes . She fancies she sees it — she does see i t all ali ve
,
all j oyous, with i ts delicate hands, its round head, i ts purelips, i ts serene eyes, the whi te of which is blue. I f i t bewinter
,there i t is, crawling upon the carpet, climbing labo
riou sly upon a stool, and the mother trembles lest i t shouldapp roach too near to the fire. I f it be summer
,i t is creep
ing about in the court-yard or in the garden, lookinginno cently and fearlessly at the big dogs and the big horses,pull ing up the grass growing between the stones, playingwith the shells and the flowers
,and making the gardener
scold on finding sand on his borders and mould on his paths.All about i t i s bright, j oyous, and playful, like i tself, even
U 2
m s no s cns acrr OF Norms- name . 293
l ieve in God . Ah wretch,that I was, to go out that
day O Lord Lord ! to snatch her from me thus ,thou coulds t never have seen me with -her, when I warme dhe r
,all glee
,bef ore the fire , when she ceased sucking to
laugh in my face,when I made her little feet step up my
bosom to my very lips Had st thou seen this, 0 my God !thou wouldst have had pity on my joy thou wouldst nothave ravi shed from m e the only love that was left in myheart ! Was I then so vile a wretch, O Lord ! that thoucouldst not look at me before condemning me ! Alas !alas ! there is the shoe
,but where is the foot ? where is
the child ? My child ! my own child ! what have theydone with thee O Lord ! give me back my child ! Myknees have been flayed for these fifteen years in prayingto thee : i s not this enough Res tore her to me for a day,an hour
,a minute
,only one minu te
,0 Lord ! and then
cas t me forth to the evil one to all ete rni ty . Oh,did I
but kno w where to find thee,I would gras p the skirts of
thy garment with both the se hands,and not let thee go
till thou hadst given me back my child Behold her pre ttyli tt le shoe Hast thou no compassion
,O Lord Canst
thou doom a wretched mother to fifteen years of such torment as this Blessed Virgin of heaven they have stolenmy child ; they have devoured her on the moor ; they haved runk her blood ; they have gnawed her bones . KindVirgin
,have pity on me ! My child I wan t my child !
What is i t to me that she is in Parad i se ? .I wan t none of
your angels I wan t my child . Oh,I will wri the upon
the ground,I wil l dash my head against the stones, I wil l
curse thee and seal my own damnation,so thou wilt but
restore to me my child ! Thou seest how these arms areto rn ! has then the good God no compassion ? 0 le t them giveme but black bread and salt provided I have my daughter ;she will be to me bo th meat and drink
,and warmth and
sunshine . I confess,O Lord my God
,that I am but a
vi le sinner, but my child was making me pious. Out oflove to her I was amending my life
,and I saw thee through
her smile as through the opened heavens . Oh,that I
could but once more, only on ce, put this pretty shoe on herrosy li ttle foo t, I would die blessing thee, Holy Virgin !
U 3
294 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
But no fifteen years ! she must be grown up nowUnfortunate girl ! ’
t is too certain that I shall n ever seethee more
,not even in heaven
,for there I shall never
enter. O what anguish to say, there i s her shoe andthat is all.”
The wretched creature threw herself upon that shoe, asource of solace and of sorrow for so many years and shesobbed as though her heart would break
,j ust as she had
done on the very first day. Grief like this never growsold. Though the garments of mourning become threadbare and lose their colour
,the heart remains black as ever.
At this moment the brisk and merry voices of boyspassed before her cell . At the sight or the sound of children
,the unhappy m other would always dart into the dark
est nook of her sepulchre, with such precipi tation that youwould think she was stri ving to bury her head in the wall,in order that she might not hear them . On thi s occasion,con trary to her custom , she started up and listened attentively. One of the boys was just saying to ano ther,They are going to hang an Egypt
l
i
d
an to- day .
”
W M M den bound of the s der, that we lately saw
”M r
?—V /
ru shing upon the fly entangled anw :sprang tolooked
,as the reader knowsh tpfl ards
the-
Placefie-
Grieve. A ladderwasacmally reared againstthe permanen t gallows
,and the hangman was engaged in
adj usting the chains,which had become rusty with the wet.
A few people were standing around.The laughing troop of boys was already far off. The
recluse looked about for some passenger whom she mightques tion . She perceived close to her cell a priest, whofeigned to be reading in the publi c breviary, but whosethoughts were much less engaged by the book than by thegibbe t
,towards which he glanced from time to time with
wild and gloomy look . She recognised in him the archdeacon of Josas, an austere and holy man .
Father,
” she enquired,whom are they going to
hang,yonder ?
”
The priest looked at her without answering. She re
peated the question . I know not,said he .
m s nuncns a cx or NOTRE-DAME. £95
Some boys,rejoined the recluse
,said just now that
i t was an Egyptian .
"
I believe so,
” replied the priest.Paquette la Chantefleurie burs t in to an hysterical laugh .Sister
,
” said the archdeacon, you seem to hate the
Egyptians with all your heart."
“Hate them cried the recluse why, they are witches,child- stealers ! They devoured my little girl, my child,my only child ! They ate my heart along with her— I
have none now !The priest eyed her coldly.There is one in parti cular
,she resumed, that I hate
and that I have cursed ; a young girl about the same agethat my child would have been now had they not eaten her.Whenever this young viper passes my cell, she se ts al l myblood a-boiling.
Well then,sister
,rej oice
,said the pries t
,cold as the
s ta tue on a sepulchre ’t is for her that these preparationsare making .
”
His head sunk upon his bosom and he slowly withdrew .
The recluse waved her arms in triumph . Thanks,sir priest
,
” cried she . I told her what she would cometo .
She then began , with hurried step , to pace to and frobefore her window, her hair dishevelled, her eye glaring,dashing against the wall with her shoulder
,with the wild
air of a caged she-wolf, whi ch has long been hungry andis aware that the hour for her repast i s approaching.
CHAPTER VI .
THREE HUMAN HEARTS D IFFERENTLY CONSTITUTED.
Pe rs e us, meanwhile, was not dead. Men of that kind arehard to kill . When Master Philip Lheulier, advocate extraordinary to the king, said to poor Esmeralda, H e is dying—he was ei ther misinformed or j oking. When the arch
U 4
'rm ‘. nuucnnacx or NOTRE-DAME. 297
being an Egyptian, and, las tly, of the goblin-monk . Heimagined that in this his tory there was much more ofm agic than of love
,probably a sorceress, perhaps the devil ;
i n short,a comedy
, or to use the language of those days, amystery
, of a very disagreeable nature, i n which he playedan extremely awkward part that of the butt for blowsand laughter. The captain was quite dashed : he felt thesort of shame which La Fontaine so admirably compareswi th that of a fox caught by a hen . He hoped, besides,that the affair would not be bruited abroad, that in hi sabsence his name would scarcely be mentioned in connection with i t
,or at any rate not beyond the pleadings at the
Tournelle. Nei ther was he far wrong in this expectationthere were then no newspapers ; and, as scarcely a weekpassed but there was some coiner boiled
,some witch
hanged, or some hereti c burned, at one of the numberless
jus tices of Paris, people were so accustomed to see the oldfeudal Themis
,with bare arms and tucked-up sleeves,
performing her office at the gall ows and the pillory, thatthey scarcely took any notice of such even ts . In thosedays, the h igher clas ses scarcely knew the name of thesufferer who was carried pas t to the corner of the street,and the populace at most regaled i tself with this coarsefare. An execution was a familiar incident in the publicways, like the oven of the baker, or the butcher
’s slaughterhouse . The hangman was but a kind of butcher, a shadedarker than the other.Phoebus therefore soon set his mind at ease respecting
the sorceress Esmeralda, or Simil ar
,as he called her , the
wound infli cted by the Bohemian or the goblin-monkhe cared not whi ch — and the issue of the proceedings.But no sooner was his heart vacan t on thi s score than theimage of Fleur- de-Lys returned thither. The heart of
Captain Phoebus, like the philosophy of those times, abhorred a vacuum .
Besides, Queue- en-Brie was a very stupid place, avillage of blacksmiths and dairy-women with chappedhands, a long line of crazy cottages bordering both sides ofthe high road for a mil e . Fleur-de-Lys was his lastpassion but one, a handsome girl, with a good dower.
298 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE- DAME .
One fine morn ing,therefore
,being quite convalescent
,and
presuming that the affair with the Bohemian must afterthe lapse of two months be completely blown over andforgotten , the amorous cavalier came swaggering to thedoor of the Gondelaurier mansion . He took no noti ce of anumerous concourse assembled in the Place du Parvis
,be
fore the porch of None-Dame he recollected that i t wasthe month of May
,and
,supposing that the people m ight be
drawn together by some religious holyday or procession,he
fastened his horse to the ring at the gate and gaily wentup stairs to his fair betrothed .
She was alone with her mother. Fleur- de- Lys hadal ways felt sore about the scene with the sorceress
,her goat
,
her cursed alphabet,and the long absences of Phoebus
nevertheless, at the entrance of her truant, he looked sowell, had such a new uniform,
such a smart shoulder-belt,and s o impassioned an air
,that she reddened with pleasure.
The noble demoiselle was herself more charming thanever. Her magnificent light hair was admirably plai tedshe was attired completely in sky-blue
,which so well sui ts
females of a fair complexion a piece of coquetry whichshe had been taught by Colombe and her eye swam inthat languor of love which suits them so much better.Phoebus
,who had so long set eyes on nothing superior in
beauty to the wenches of Queue- en-Brie,was transported
wi th Fleur-de-Lys and this imparted such a warmth andsuch a tone of gallantry to his manner that his peace wasinstantly made. Madame de Gondelaurier herself, maternally seated as usual in her great arm - chair, had not
‘
the
heart to scold him and as for the reproaches of Fleur- deLys, they expired in accents of tenderness.The young lady was seated near the window, stil l
working away at her grotto of Neptune. The captainleant over the back of her chair
,and in an under- tone
she commenced her half- caressing,half- scolding enquiries .
What have you been doing with yourself for these twomonths
, you naughty manI replied Phoebus
,who did not relish the
q uestion, you are so beautiful that an archbi shop couldnot he lp falling in lo ve wi th you.
"
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 299
She could not forbear smiling. Beautiful, forsooth !My beauty is nothing to the purpose
,sir I wan t an answer
to my question .
Well , then, my dear cousin, I was ordered away tokeep garrison .
”
Where,i f you please ? and why not come to bid me
adieu P”
At Queue- en-Brie ."
Phoebus was deligh ted that the first ques ti on enabledhim to shirk the second .
But that is close by,sir. How is i t that you have not
been once to see me ?Here Phtebus was seriously embarrassed. Why
our duty and,besides
,charming cousin
,I have
been ill .I ll she exclaimed in alarm.
Yes,wounded.”
WoundedThe poor girl was thunderstruck.Oh, you need not frighten yourself about that, said
Phoebus carel essly ; i t was nothing. A quarrel, ascratch with a sword how can that concern you
? ”
Not concern me ? ” cried Fleur- de-Lys, rai sing herbeautiful eyes swimming in tears. Oh
,in saying so you
do not say what you think. How came you by thescratch you talk of P I insis t on knowing all .Well then, my fair cousin, I had a squabble with
Mahé Fédy you know him the lieutenan t of St.Germain-en_ Laye, and each of us ripped up a few inchesof the other
’
s skin . That is all ."
The mendacious captai n well knew that an affair of
honour always raises a man in the estimation of a female .Accordingly, Fleur-de-Lys turned about and looked himin the face wi th emotions of fear
,pleasure
,and admiration .
Still she was not completely sati sfied.
Ah, Phoebus,
” said she,how I rejoi ce that you
are qui te well again I do not know your Mahé Fédybut he is a scurv y fellow. And what was the cause of
this quarrel
THE HUNOHBACK on NOTRE-DAME. 301
and was leaning over the back of her chai r a charmingpost
,from which his licentious eye penetrated into all the
openings in Fleur-de-Lys’ neckerchief. This covering gapedso opportunely i t allowed him to see so many exquisitethings
,and to guess at so many others, that Phoebus, dazzled
by that skin which shone like satin, said within himself,How can one love any but a fair woman Both keptsilence . The lady gave him from time to time a look ofdelight and fondness ; and their hair mingled together inthe spring sunshine.Phoebus
,
” said Fleur-de-Lys, abruptly, in a low tone,we are to be married in three months : swear that younever loved any other but me.”
I do swear i t, beautiful angel replied Phoebus, andhis impassioned look concurred with the emphati c accen tof his words to convince Fleur-de-Lys . I t i s possible thatat the moment he himself believed what he asserted .
Meanwhile the good mother, pleased to see the youngpeople on such excellen t terms, had left the apartmen t toattend to some domestic matter or other. Phce bus perceivedher absence, which so emboldened the en terp rising captain,that certain curious ideas came into his head. Fleur-deLys loved him she was betrothed to him she wasalone with him his former fondness for her was revived
,
not in all i ts freshness,but in all i ts ardour after all
,there
could be no great harm in cropping his corn in the flag.I know not whether i t was precisely these ideas thatcrossed his mind ; but so much is certain, that Fleur-deLys became suddenly alarmed at the expression of his
countenance. She looked around her — her mother wasgone
Bless me ! ” said she, flushed and agi ta ted,
“I am
ve ry hotWhy, replied Phcebus, I dare say i t is almost
noon . The sun is troublesome. I will draw the curtains.”
No, no cried the trembling damsel on the contrary, I have need of air and
,like a doe that feels the
breath of the pack at her heels,she rose
,ran to the win
dow, and stepped out on the balcony . Phoebus, not a
li ttle vexed, followed her thither.
302 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
The Place du Parvis,in front of Notre-Dame,into which,
as the reader knows, this balcony looked, exhibi ted at thi smomen t a sinis ter and ‘ singular spectacle, which quicklychanged the nature o f the timid Fleur- de-Lys’ alarm . Animmense crowd
,which flowed back into al l the adjacent
streets,covered the Place
,properly so called. The low
wall which encompassed the Parvis would not have beensufficien t to keep it clear
,had i t not been thickly lined by
sergeants of the Onze- vingts and arquebusiers, with theirpieces in their hands . The wide portal s of the churchwere closed
,contrasting with the numberless windows
around the Place,which
,thrown open up to the very
roofs,displayed thousands of heads heaped one above
another nearly like piles of cannon-balls in a park of artillery . The surface of thi s crowd was grey, squalid;dirty. The sight which i t was awaiting was evidently oneo f those which have the privilege of calling together allthat i s most disgusting in the population . Nothing coul dbe more hideous than the noise that arose from this a ssemblage of sallow caps and unkempt heads. In this concourse there were more women than men, m ore laughingthan crying.Ever a‘nd anon some harsh or shrill voice was heard
above the general din,to this effect
I say,Mahiet Baliffre, i s she to be hanged yon
der PNo simpleton— only to do penance there in chemis e
God Almighty is going to spit Latin in her face.’
T is ,
always done here, at noon precisely. If you want to see '
the hanging, you must e’
en go to the Greve .”
I will go afterwards .”
0 C O 0 O O 0 Q 0 O O O
I s i t true,La Boucanbry, that she has refused a con
fessor
I am told so, La Bechaigne.
Only think ! the Pagan
I t i s the .cu stom,sir. The bailiff of the Palace is
bound to deliver over the culpri t for execution,if of the
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTR E-DAM E. 303
lai ty,to the provost of Paris but i f a clerk, to the official
of the bishopri c.”
I thank you si r.
O my God ! the poor creature !"
ex claimed‘Fleur
de- Lys,surveying the populace wi th a sorrowful look .
The captain,too much engaged wi th her to n oti ce the
rabble, was amorously fumbling at her belt behind .
Prithee,let me alone
,Phoebus, said she in a tone of
entreaty,and turning sharply round if my mother were
to come in she would see your handAt this moment the clock of Notre -Dame slowly stru cktwelve . A murmur of satisfaction pervaded the crowd .
Scarcely had the last vibration of the twelfth stroke subsided
,when the vast assemblage of heads was broken into
waves like the sea in a gale of wind, and one immenseshout of There she is burst simul taneously frompavement
,windows
,and roofs .
Fleur-de-Lys covered her eyes with her hands that shemight not see .Will you go in
,charmer ? asked Phoebus .
No,she replied ; and those eyes which she had shut
for fear she opened again ou t of curiosi ty.A cart, drawn by a strong Norman bay, and completelysurrounded by horsemen in purple li very, marked wi thwhi te crosses, had just issued from the Rue St. Pierre-auxBoeufs and entered the Place . The se rgeants of the watchopened a passage for i t through the populace with staves
,
with which they laid lustily about them . Beside the cartrode certain offi cers of justice and poli ce
,who might be
known by their black dress and the awkward manner inwhich they sat the i r horses. At their head paraded MasterJacques Charmolue . In the fatal vehicle was seated ayoung female
,with her hands tied behind her and no priest
at her side. She was stripped to her chemise ; her longblack hair — for i t was not then customary to cut i t offtill the culpri t was at the foo t of the gallows fell looselyover her bosom and her half uncovered shoulders .Through this flowing hair
,more glossy than a raven’s
plumage, might be seen twisting a grey, knotty cord, which
THE HUNCB BAOK or NOTRE-DAH E . 305
but too surely La Esmeralda. On this last s tep of misfortune and ignominy
,she was still beautiful ; her large
‘
black eyes appeared still larger,on account of the hollow
ness o f her cheeks her li vid profi le was pure and sublime .’
She resembled what she had been, as a Virgin of Masaccio’
s
resembles a Virgin of Raphael’
s — feebler, thinner, moreattenuated.
For the rest,there was nothing about her, excepting her
modesty,but was left
,as i t were
,to chance, so deeply was
she overwhelmed by stupor and despair. At each jolt ofthe cart
,
her form rebounded like an inanimate thingher look was dull and silly. A tear glistened in her eyebut i t was motionless
,and looked as if i t were fro zen .
Meanwhile the sombre cavalcade had passed throughthe crowd
,amid shouts of j oy and atti tudes of curiosi ty .
In order to deserve the character of faithful historians,we
must nevertheless record that many of the mob,ay, and
of the harde suhearted too, on see ing her so beautiful andso forlorn
,were moved wi th pity . The cart had now
reached the Parvis.I t stopped before the central porch . The escort ranged
i tself on ei ther side. The mob kept silen ce ; and amid thissilence
,ful l of solemnity and anxiety, the folding doors
of the great porch turned as if spon taneously upon theirhinges, which creaked with a shrill sound like that of a fife,affording a view of the whole length of the church, vast,gloomy, hungwith black, diml y lighted by a few tapers glimmering in the distance upon the high altar, and openinglike the mouth of a cavern upon the Place resplendent wi ththe glorious sunshine. At the farthest extremity
,in the
dusk of the chancel , was faintly seen a coloss al silvercross relieved upon black cloth which fel l behind i t fromthe roof to the pavement. The whole nave was vacan t.Heads of pries ts were however seen confusedl y movingabout in the di stant s talls of the choir ; and at the momentwhen the great door opened
,there burst from the church
a grave, loud, and monotonous chant, hurling, as i t were, in.gusts, fragments of dolefu l p salms at the head of the con
demned one.
306 THE HUNCHBACK op NOTRE-DAME.
Non timaho millis populi circumdantis me : exsurge, Domine ;salvum me fac, DeusSalvum me fac, Deus, quoniam intraverunt aquse usque ad
ammam meam.
Infix us sum in limo profundi ; et non est substantia.
At the same time another voice singly struck up on
the steps of the high al tar th i s melancholy offertory
Qui verbum meum audit, et credit ci qui misit me, habetvitam aeternam e t in judicium non venit ; sed transit amorte invitam.
These chants sung by aged men, lost in the darkness,over that beautiful creature
,full of youth and life, caressed
by the warm air of spring, and inundated with the sunlight, belonged to the mass for the dead. The populacelistened devoutly.The terrified girl, fixing her eyes on the dark inte rior
of the church, seemed to lose both sight and thought.Her pale lips moved
,as if in prayer ; and
‘
when the executioner
’s man went to assist her to al ight from the
cart,he heard her repeating in a faint voi ce the word
,
Phoebus !
Her hands were unbound, and she alighted, accom
panied by her goat, whi ch had also been untied, andbleated for joy on finding itself at liberty ; and she wasthen made to walk barefoot on the hard pavement to thefoot of the s teps leading to the porch . The rope whichwas fas tened about her neck trailed behind her : you
would have taken it for a snake that was following her.The chanting in the church ceased. A large gold
'
cru
cifix and a file of tapers began to move in the dusk.
The sound of the halberts of the party- coloured Swiss washeard and in a few moments a long procession of priestsin copes
,and deacons in dalmatics, slowly advanced chan ting
towards the prisoner, and expanded i tself before her eyesand those of the mob. But hers were riveted on himwho walked at its head immediately after the bearer of thecru cifix. Oh she muttered to hersel f shuddering,there he is again the priestI t was actually the archdeacon . On his left was the
sub- chante r,
and on his right the chanter bearing the
'm a: HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. 307
s taff of his office . He advanced, with head thrownback
,and eyes fixed and Open, chanting wi th a loud
voice :
De ventre inferi clamavi, e t e x audisti vocem meam .
E t projecisti me in profundum, in corde mar-is, et flumen cir
cumdedit me .
At the moment when he appeared in the broad daylight beneath the lofty poin ted arch of the portal, coveredwith an ample cope of silver marked wi th a black cross
,
he was so pa le that sundry of the crowd imagined i t mustbe one of the marble bishops kneeling on the 'sepul
chral monuments in the choir,who had risen and come
to receive on the brink of the tomb her who was aboutto die.She
,not less pale, not less statue- like, was scarcely
aware that a heavy lighted taper of yellow wax had beenput into her hand she had not heard the squeaking voiceof the clerk reading the form of the penance ; when toldto say Amen, she had said Amen. Nei ther did she recover any li fe or any strength till she saw the priest makea sign to those who had her in custody to reti re, and ad
vance alone towards her. She the n felt the blood boil inher head
,and a spark of indignation was rekindled in that
soul, already cold, benumbed, stupified .
The archdeacon approached her slowly ; even in thisextremity she saw him survey her nearly naked form withan eye sparkling with pleasure, desire, and jealousy. In
a loud voi ce he thus addressed her Bohemian girl,
have you prayed God to pardon your crimes and misdemeanors Then stooping as the spectators imagined
,
to receive her las t confes sion he whispered, Wilt thoube mine ? I can even yet save theeShe eyed him s tedfastly. G0 to the fiend, thy
mas ter, or I will inform of thee !He grinned horribly a ghastly smile .’ E
“They will notbelieve thee,
"he replied. Thou wilt but add scandal
to guil t. Answer quickly,wilt thou have me
What has t thou done with my Phoebus ?He is dead
,
”said the priest.
At that moment the wre tched archdeacon rai sed hisx 2
m s B UNCHBAGK or NOTRE -DAM E. 309
the Operator by Abraham . I t was wi th some difficultythat he was roused from this con templation but at lengthhe turned about
,and at a sign, which he made, two men in
yellow dresses,the executioner
’
s assis tants, approa ched theEgyptian to tie her hands again .
The unfortunate creature,at the moment for re-ascending
the fatal cart and setting out on her last stage, was probablysei zed by some keen repining after life. She rai sed her drybut inflamed eyes towards heaven, towards the sun, towardsthe silvery clouds
,s tudded here and there wi th trapeziums
and triangles of azure,and then cast them down around her
upon the earth,upon the crowd
,upon the houses .
All at once,while the men in yellow were pinioning her
arms, she gave a startling scream, a scream of joy. In thebalcony at the corner of the Place she had descried him
,
her friend,her lord, her Phoebus, just as he looked when
alive . The judge had told her a falsehood ! the priest hadtold her a fal sehood ! ’t was he himself— she could notpossibly doubt i t. There he stood, living, moving, habi tedin his bril l ian t un if orm
,with the plume on his head and
the sword by his sidePhoebus she cried my Phoebus ! — and she
woul d have stretched out towards him her arms tremblingwith love and transport, but they were bound.She then saw the captain knit his brow ; a young and
handsome female who lean t upon him looked at him wi thdi sdainful lip and angry eye Phoebus then utte red a fewwords, which she was too far off to hear both has til y retired from the balcony into the room
,and the window was
imm ediately clos ed.Phtrebus cried she wildly
,dost thou too believe
i t ? A horrible idea had just flashed upon her. She recollected that she had been condemned for the murder ofCaptain Phcebus de Chateaupers. She had hom e up thusfar against every thing. This last shock was too violen t.She fell senseless upon the pavemen t.
Come !”said Charm olue
,carry her to the cart, and
let us make an end of the business ! ”
No pers on had yet observed in the gallery of the royalsta tues, immediately above the pointed arches of the porch,
x 3
3 10 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
a strange-looking spectator, who had till then been watching all that passed
,wi th atti tude so motionless
,head so out.
stretched,visage so deformed, that, but for his apparel,
half red and half purple,he might have been taken for one
of those stone monsters,at whose mouths the long gutters
of the cathedral have for these six hundred years disgorgedthemselves. This spec tator had not lost a single in cidentof the tragedy that had been acting ever since noon beforethe porch of None—Dame ; and in the very first momen tshe had, unobserved, securely tied to one of the smallpill ars of the gallery a knotted rope
,the end of which
reached the pavement. This done,he had set himself to
watch as quietly as before,hissing from time to time at the
j ackdaws as they flew past him . All at once,at the mo
ment when the executioner’s assistants were preparing ttiobey the phlegmatic order of Charmolue, he strode acrossthe balustrade of the gallery, sei zed the rope with feet,knees
,and hands
,glided down the facade hke a drop of
rain down a pane of glass ; ran up to the two men withthe swiftness of a cat that has fallen from a roof ; felledboth of them to the ground with his enormous fists ;
I,bore
off the Egyptian on one arm , as a girl would her doll, andat one bound he was in the church, holding up the younggirl above his head and shouting wi th terrific voiceSanctuary ! sanctuary !
” This was all done wi th therapidi ty of lightning.
Sanctuary ! sanctuary repeated the'
mob,and the clap
ping of ten thousand hands cau sed Quasimodo’s only eyeto sparkle wi th j oy and exul tation .
This shock brought La Esmeralda to her senses . Sheopened her eyes, looked at Quasimodo, and instantly closedthem again
,as if horror- s tri cken at the sight of her de
liverer.
Charmolue stood stupified so did the executioners andthe whole escort. ‘Vithin the walls of Notre-Dame theprisoner was secure from molestation . The cathedral wasa place of refuge. Human justi ce dared not cross itsthreshold.Quasimodo paused under the great porch . His large
feet seemed as firmly rooted in the pavement of the church
'rrm HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 3 1 1
as the mas sive Roman pillars. His huge head, with itsprofuse covering of hair, appeared to be thrust down in tohis shoulders
,like that of the lion
,which, too, has a c0pi
ous mane and no neck. He held the damsel, palpitatingall over
,hanging from his horny hands hke a whi te dra
pery ; bu t he {carried her with as much care as if he wasfearful of bruising or dis turbing her. He felt, you wouldha ve thought
,that a thing so delicate
,so exquisi te, so pre
cions, was not made for such hands as his . At times helooked as though he dared not touch her even with hisbreath. Then
,all at once
,he woul d clasp her closely in
his arms, against his angular bosom ,as hi s treasure, as his
all, as the mother of that girl would herself have done.His cyclop eye ben t down upon her
,shed over her a flood
o f tenderness,of pity, of grief, and was suddenly raised
flashing l ightning. At this sight the women laughed andcried ; the crowd stamped with enthusiasm,
for at thatmoment Quasimodo was really beautiful. Yes, he was beauti ful— he
,that orphan
,that foundl ing, that outcast ; he
felt himself august and strong he looked in the face thatsociety from which he was banished
,and from which he
had made so signal a conquest ; that human jus tice fromwhich he had snatched its victim those judges, thoseexecutioners
,all that force of the King’s, which he, the
meanest of the mean,had foiled wi th the force of God !
And then, how touching was that protection afforded bya being so deformed to a being so unfortunate as the girlcondemned to die and saved by Quasimodo ! I t was thetwo extreme miseries of Nature and society meeting andassisting each other.After a triumph of a few minutes
,however
,Quasimodo
hastened in to the inte rior of the church with hi s burden .
The people, fond of daring deeds, followed him with thei reyes along the dusky nave
,regretting that he had so
soon withdrawn himself from their acclamation s . Allat once he was again descried at one of the extremitiesof the gallery of the kings of France he ran along i t
,like
a maniac, holding up his pri ze in his arms, and shoutingSanctuary The populace greeted him wi th fresh ap
pianse. Having traversed the gallery, he again penetratedx 4
ra n nurtcna acx or NOTR E-DAME. 3 1 3
BOOK VI I I.
CHAPTER I .
A H IGH FEVER .
CLAUDE FR OLLO was no longer in Notre-Dame, when hisfoster- son cut thus abruptly the fatal noose in which theunhappy archdeacon had caught the Egyptian
,and was
himself caught. On returning to the sacri sty he hadstripped off the alb
,the cope, and the stole, thrown them
all in to the hands of the stupified bedel, hurried ou t at thepri vate door of the cloisters
,ordered a boatman of the Ter
rain to carry him across the river, and wandered among.the hilly streets of the Universi ty
,meeting at every step
parti es of men and women,hastening j oyously toward the
Pont St;Michel,in hopes of being in time to see the sor
ceress hanged Pal e and haggard,blinded and more be
wildered than owl let loo se and pursued by a tr00p of boysin broad daylight
,he knew not where he was, what he did,
whether he was awake or dreaming. He walked, he ran,heedl ess whither
,taking any s treet at random,
still drivenonward by the Greve
,the horrible Greve, which he
vaguely knew to be behind him .
In this manner he pursued his way along the hill of St.Genevieve, and left the town by the gate of St. Victor. Solong as he coul d see
, on turning round, the line of towersenclosing the University
,and the scattered houses of the
suburb, he con tinued to flee ; but when, at length, theinequality of the ground had comple tely shut out thathate ful Paris from his view
,when he could fancy himself
a hundred leagues off, in the country, i n a desert, hepaused and fel t as though he breathed on ce more.A crowd of frightful ideas then rushed upon hi s mind.
He saw plainly in to the recesses of his soul, and shuddered.
3 14 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME'.
He thought of that unhappy girl who had undone him,
and .whom he had undone . With haggard eye he followedthe double winding way along which fatality had urgedtheir two destinies to the point of intersection
,where i t
had piti lessly dashed them against one another. He thoughtof the folly of eternal vows
,of the vanity of chastity,
scien ce, religion, and virtue, of the uselessness of God. He
wilful ly plunged into evi l thoughts,and as he immersed
himself in them he felt a satanic laugh arising within him.
And when,while thus diving into his soul
,he saw how
large a space nature had there prepared for the passions,he laughed still more bitterly. He stirred up from the
bottom of his heart all its hatred and all its malignityand he perceived
,with the cold indifference of a physician
examining a patient,that this hatred and this malignity
were but vitiated love ; that love, the sour ce of everyvirtue in man
,was transformed into horrid things in the
heart of a priest, and that one so constituted as he inmaking himself a priest made himself a demon . He thenlaughed more hideously than ever
,and all at once he again
turned pale on considering the darkest side of his fatal pas .sion
,that corroding
,venomous
,rancorous
,implacable love,
which had consigned the one to the gallows the other tohell whi ch had ended in her condemnation
,in his
damnation .
And then he laughed again on bethinking him thatPhoebus was not dead that he was still alive, gay, andj oyous ; that he had a smarter uniform than ever, and anew mistress whom he took to see the old one hanged. Helaughed still more heartily on reflecting that, among all theliving beings whose death he had wished for, the Egyptian
,the only creature whom he did not hate, was also the
only one who had not escaped him .
From the captain his thoughts turned to the populace,and he conceived a j ealousy of an unheard-of kind. Hebethought him that the crowd
,the entire population of
Paris,had beheld the female whom he loved stripped al
most naked. He wrung his hands on reflecting that thisfemale,
‘ a glimpse of whom in the dusk to himself alone
would have been supreme happiness, had been exhibited in
rm : m mcu aacx or NOTRE-DAME. 3 15
the broad face of day to the populace undressed, as for anight of voluptuous enjoymen t. He wept for rage at allthose myste ries of love exposed, profaned, sullied, wi theredfor ever. He wept for rage on thinking how many lecherous eyes had gloated on the open bosom of that singlegarment ; and that the beauteous girl, that virgin lily, thatcup of modesty and delight, to which he dared not put hislips wi thout trembling
,had been tran sformed, as i t were,
in to a public bucket, ou t of whi ch the vilest of the rabble
of Paris,thieves
,mendicants
,vagabonds, lackeys, had
drunk together draughts of unhallowed, impure, depravedpleasure.And when he strove to picture to himself the felicity
which he might have found upon earth if she had not beena Bohemian
,and if he had not been a priest, i f t hus
had not existed,and if she had not loved him when he
considered that a life of sereni ty and affection mighthave been possible for him also
,even for him that, at
that very moment,there were here and there on the earth
happy couples engaged in fond converse in orange-groves,on the banks of murmuring s treams
,in the presence of a
setting sun, or of a starry sky ; and that, had i t pleasedGod, he might have formed with her one of those blessedcouples, his heart dissolved in tenderness and despair.She formed the subject of his every thought. I t was
this fixed idea that haunted him incessantly, that tor turedhim , that racked his brain, and gnawed his Vi tals . Hefelt not regret he felt not remorse : all that he had donehe was ready to do again : .he woul d rather see her in thehands of the hangman than in the arms of the captain .
But so acute was his anguish that at times he tore off hishair by handfuls .There was one moment among others when i t came into
his mind that possibly at that very instan t the hideous chainwhich he had seen in the morning might be drawing i tsiron noose around that neck so slender and so gracefu l .This idea made the perspiration start from every pore.There was another momen t when
,laughing diaboli cally
at himself the while,his imagination represented to him
at once La Esmeralda,as on the first day he had seen her,
'r s a HUNOHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 3 17
appeared like a star,the gibbet like an enormous fleshless
arm .
I t is remarkable that, during the whole of this torture,he never conceived any serious idea of putting an end tohimself. The wretched man was tenacious of li fe. I ti s possible that he really saw hell ready to receive himafterwards .The day meanwhile continued to decline . The living
principle which still existed within him began to thinkconfusedly of returning. He conceived that he was farfrom Pari s
,but
,on examining the objects around
,he found
that he had turned short after passing the bounds of theUniversity . The steeple of St. Sulpice and the three tal lspires of St. Germain des Prés shot up above the horizonon his right. He proceeded in that direction . When heheard the challenge of the men- at- arms of the abbot aroundthe embattled ci rcumvallation of St. Germain
,he turned
off,took a path which presented i tself between the abbey
mill and the lazar-house of the hamlet, and presently foundhimself on the margin of the Pré -aux-Clercs. This meadow was celebrated for the squabbles which took placethere night and day ; i t was, so saith the chronicler
,the
hydra of the poor monks of St. Germain . The archdeaconwas apprehensive lest he should meet some one : he wasafraid of every human face : he had avoided the Universityand the hamlet of St. Germain : he wished to make i t aslate as possible before he en tered the stree ts. He proceeded along the Pré-aux- Clercs, to ok the lonely path whichseparated it from the Dieu N euf , and at length reachedthe bank of the ri ver.
’
There Dom C laude found a boatman
,who for a few deniers took him up the Seine to the
point of the Ci ty, and set him ashore upon that vacanttongue of land, where the reader has already seen Gringoirepondering
,and which extended beyond the king
’
s gardensparallel with the isle of the cattle—ferryman .
The monotonous rocking o f the boat and the murmur ofthe water had somewhat lulled the wretched Claude . Whenthe boatman had left him
,he remained standing stupidly
upon the strand, looking straight forward. All the obj ectshe beheld seemed to dance before his eyes, forming a sort
3 1 8 wa s HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME.
of phantasmagoria . I t is no uncommon thing for thefatigue of excessive grief to produce this effect upon them ind.The sun had set behind the tal l tower of Nesle. I t was
just twilight. The sky was white the water of the riverwas white and between these the left bank of the Seine
,
upon which his eyes were fixed, extended i ts sombre mass,which, gradually diminished by the perspective, piercedthe haze of the horizon like a
'
black arrow. I t was coveredwith houses
,of which nothing was distinguishable but the
obscure profile,standing out in strong relief in the dark
from the light ground of the sky and the water. Lightsbegan to glimmer here and there in the windows. Thi simmense black obelisk, thus bounded by the two whitesheets of the sky and the river, of great breadth at thisplace, produced on Dom Claude a singular effect
,which
may be compared with that which would be experien cedby a man lying down on his back at the foot of the steepleof Strasburg cathedral
,and looking at i ts enormous shaft
piercing above his head the penumbra of the twilight :only in this case Claude was standing and the obelisk lying.But
,as the river, in reflecting the sky, lengthened the abyss
beneath him,the immense promontory shot forth into
space like any church—s teeple, and the impression was thesame. That impression was rendered the more strikingand extraordinary by the circumstance that this steeplewastwo leagues high a colossal
,immeasurable, unparalleled
object ; a tower of Babel ; an edifice such as human eyenever beheld. The chimneys of the houses
,the battle
ments of the walls, the angles of the roofs, the steeple ofthe Augustines
,the Tower of Nesle
,all those salien t points
which indented the profile of the immense obelisk, heigh t.ened the i llusion by presenting to the eye a grotesquesemblance of the fretwork of a ri ch and fan tastic sculpture.C laude
,in the state of hallucination in which he then was,
fancied that he saw saw with his bodily eyes — the
tower of hell : the thousand lights gleaming from bottomto top of this frightful tower appeared to him so many eno
trances to the immense furnace within and the voices andsounds which issued from it, the Shrieks and moans of the
'rns noncs s a cx or NOTRE-DAME. 3 19
damned. A deep fear came over him be covered hisears with his hands that he migh t not hear, turned hisback that he might not see
,and hurried away from the
terrible vision. But the vision was within him .
On ente ring the streets, the passengers who j ostled oneanother by the light of the shop-fronts appeared like spec tresincessantly going and coming around him . Strange noisesrang in his ears extraordinary fancies di sturbed his mind.He saw neither houses n or pavement
,neither men, women,
nor carriages, but a chaos of confused objects blending onewith another. At the corner of the Rue de la Barilleriethere was a grocer
’
s shop,the penthouse of which was hung
all along,according to immemori al custom
,with tin hoops,
to which were attached imita tion candles of wood : these,being shaken by the wind
,clattered like castanets. He
imagined that he heard the skeletons of Montfaucon clashing together in the dark .
Oh muttered he, the night.wind i s driving themone against another, and mingling the clank of their chainswith the rattling of their bones . She is there too, perhaps,among themDistracted
,he knew not whither he went. Presently he
was upon the Pont St. Mi chel. He perceived a ligh t in thewindow of a ground-floor room : he approached it. Througha cracked pane he beheld a mean apartment
,which awakened
confused re collections in his mind. In this apartment,
fain tly lighted by a lamp,he saw a fair
,fresh- coloured
, jovi al- looking youth, who, loudly laughing the while, wastoying wi th a young female whose dress was far from modest and near the lamp was seated an old woman spinningand singing, or rather squalling
,a song. In the intervals
when the laughter ceased,snatches of the old woman
’
ssong reached the ear of the pries t : the tenour of i t wasfrightful and not very inte lligible .The old woman was Falourdel, the girl was a prosti tute,
and the youth was his brother Jehan . He continued towa tch them. He saw Jehan go to a window at the fartherend of the room, open i t, and look out on the quay, wherea thousand illumined windows glanced in the distance andhe heard him saywhile shutting the window
’
Pon my
THE HUNOHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 32 1
silver cros s glistened amid the gloom, dotted with sparklingpoints
,like the milky-way of thi s sepulchral night. The
tall windows of the choir showed above the black draperythe upper extremity of their pointed arches, the panes ofwhich
,admitting a fain t ray o f moonlight
,had but those
doubtful colours of night, a sort of violet, whi te, and blue,the tin t of which is elsewhere found only on the faces ofthe dead . The archdeacon , perceiving all around the choirthese livid poin ts of arches, fancied that he beheld a ci rcleof ghastly faces s taring at him .
With hurried ste p he began to flee across the church .
I t then seemed to him that the church too moved, breathed,li ved that each massive column was tran sformed in to anenormous leg
,s tamping the ground with its broad s tone foot,
and that the giganti c cathedral was but a sort of prodigiouselephant, puffing and walking, wi th pil lars for legs, thetwo towers for trunks
,and the immense shee t of black
cloth for a caparison .
Thus the fever or the phren sy of the wretched priest hadattained such a degree of intensi ty that to him the externalworld was but a kind of Apocalypse
,visible
,palpable
,ter
rific.
For a moment he fel t somewhat relieved . On en teringone of the aisles he percei ved a reddish ligh t behind a cluster of pillars. He ran towards i t as towards a star. I t wasthe petty lamp whi ch night and day threw a dim light onthe publi c breviary of None-Dame, beneath i ts iron grating. He hurried to the sacred book
,in h0pes of finding
in i t some consolation or encouragement. I t was openat this passage of Job, which caught his fixed eye, Thena spiri t passed before my face
,and the hair of my flesh
stood up .
On reading thi s fearful text, he felt much the same as ablind man whose fingers are pricked by the staff which hehas picked up . His knees failed him, and he sank uponthe pavement, thinking of her who had that day suffereddeath . Such volumes of blasting vapours enveloped hi sbrain that i t seemed as if his head had been turned intoone of the chimneys of hell .He must have remained for a long time in this atti tude
,
Y
322 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
neither thinking nor feeling, helpless and passive in thehand of the daemon . At length, recovering some degreeof consciousness, he thought of seeking refuge in thetower
,near his trusty Quasimodo . He rose
,and
,being
afraid,he took the lamp of the breviary to light him . This
was a sacrilege but he no longer regarded such a trifleas that.He slowly ascended the staircase of the tower
,filled
with a secret dread, which was communicated to the passengers who now and then crossed the Parvis
,on seeing the
mysterious light of his lamp mounting so late from loophole to loophole to the top of the tower.All at once he felt a cool air upon his face
,and found
himself u nder the door-way of the uppermost gallery.The night was cold . The sky was mottled with clouds
,
the large whi te masses of which,overlapping each other
at the edges,and being compressed at the corners
,resem
bled the ice of a river that has broken up in winter . Thecrescent moon, imbedded in those clouds, looked like acelestial ship surrounded by these aerial sheets of i ce.He cast down his eye between the iron railing of the
dwarf colonnade which unites the two towers,and for a
m oment contemplated through the veil of mist and smokethe vast extent of the roofs of Paris
,sharp, countless,
crowded together,and small as the ripples of a cal m sea in
a summer night. The moon gave but a fain t light, whichimparted an ashy tin t to earth and sky.At this moment the clock raised its loud and solemn
voice . I t was midnight. The priest thought of nooni t was again twelve o’clock . Oh muttered he to himself
,she must be cold by this time
All at once a gust of wind extinguished hi s lamp, andat the same moment he saw something white, a shade, ahuman form, a female, appear at the opposi te angle of thetower. He shuddered. By the side of this female therewas a little goat
,whi ch mingled her bleating with the last
tones of the bell. He had the courage to look at her’twas she herselfShe was pale ; she was sad. Her hair fell over her
shoul ders,as in the morning bu t there was no rope about
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAM E . 323
her neck her hands were not bound she was free, she
was dead .
She was habited in white, and had a whi te veil over herhead. She came towards him slowly, looking up at thesky
,and followed by the supernatu ral goat. He was
petri fied : he would have fled,but was unable . Al l he
could do was, to recede a step for every one that she advanced. He retreated in this manner till he was beneaththe dark vault of the s taircase . His blood curdled at theidea that she might perhaps come that way too i f she had
,
he must have died of frigh t.She did in fact approach so nea r as the door of the
stai rcase, where she paused for a few moments she cast afixed look into the darkness
,but without appearing to dis
cern the priest, and passed on . She seemed to him tallerthan when al ive ; he saw the moonshine through herwhite robe he heard her brea th .
When she was gone,he began to descend the stairs as
slowly as he had seen the spectre move . Horror- s tricken,
his hair erect, stil l holding the extinguished lamp in hishand, he fancied himself a spectre ; and, while descendingthe winding stairs, he heard a voi ce, laughing and repeating distinctly in hi s ear
,A spiri t passed before my face,
and the hai r of my flesh stood up .
”
CHAPTER I I .
THE SANCTUARY .
IN the middl e ages every town,and till the time of Loui s
XI I . every town in France,had i ts san ctuaries . Amid the
deluge of penal laws and barbarous jurisdiction s whi ch iaundated that di vi sion of Paris which we have speciallycalled the C i ty
,these sanctuaries were a kind of i slands
,
whi ch rose above the level of human justice . Every crix 2
THE HUNOHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 325
St. Denis,
The churches had in general a cell appropri ated to there ception of fugi ti ves . I n 1 407, Nicolas Flamel hadbuilt for such person s, in the church of St. Jacques de laBoucherie
,a chamber which cost him four livres six sous
sixteen deniers parisis.At Notre-Dame i t was a small cell on the top of the
aisle,under the flying buttresses
,facing the clois ters, on
the very spot where the wife of the present keeper of thetowers has made herself a garden
,which is to the hanging
gardens of Babylon what a lettuce i s to a palm- tree, or aportress to Semiramis .Here i t was that
,after hi s wild and triumphant course
th rough towers and galleries,Quasimodo deposi ted La
Esmeralda. SO long as this race lasted, the damsel hadnot recovered her senses : half s tupified , half awake, shewas sen sible of nothing but that she was mounting in tothe ai r, that she was floating
,flying in i t
,that some
thing was lifting her above the ea rth . From time totime she heard the loud laugh and the harsh voice of
Quasimodo at her ear ; she Opened her eyes, and thenbeneath her she confusedly saw Paris speckled wi th itsthousand roofs o f slate and tile, like red and blue mosaicwork, and above
,her head the hideous but j oyful face of
Quasimodo. Again her eyes closed she imagined that allwas over
,that she had been executed during her swoon
,
and that the deformed spiri t who had governed her destin yhad sei zed and borne her away .But when the panting bell- ringer had laid her down in the
cell o f sanctuary,when she felt hi s huge hands gen tly loos
ing the cord that galled her arms,sbe experien ced that kind
of shock which abruptly wakens those on board a ship thatruns aground in the middl e of a dark nigh t. Her ideasawoke also and returned to her one by one. She saw thatshe was in the church ; she recollected having been snatchedou t of the hand of the executioner that Phoebus was ali ve
,
and that he no longer loved her and these two ideas, oneOf which impar ted such bitterness to the other, presentingthems elves at once to the poor girl
,she turned towards
Y 3
3 26 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
Quasimodo,who remained standing beside her
,and whose
aspect frightened her,saying
,Why did you save me
He looked anxiously at her,as if stri ving to guess what
she said. She repeated the question . He then cast onher a look deeply sorrowful, and withdrew . She was losti n astonishment.A few moments afterwards he returned
,bringing a bun
dle whi ch he laid at her feet. I t contained apparel whichcharitable women had left for her at the door of thechurch . She then cast down her eyes at herself, saw thatshe was almost naked
,and blushed . Life had fully returned.
Quasimodo seemed to parti cipate in this feeling of modesty .Covering his face with his large hand
,he again retired
,but
wi th slow step .
She hastened to dress herself. I t was a white robe witha whi te ve i l — the habi t of a novice of the HOtel Dieu .
She had scarcely finished before Quasimodo returned . Hebrought a basket under one arm and a mattress under theother . The basket con tained a bottle
,bread, and some
other provisions. He set down the basket,and said
,
Eat He spread the mattress on the floor,and said,
Sleep I t was his own dinner,his own bed, that the
bell—ringer had brought her.The Egyptian l ifted her eyes to his face to thank him
but she could not utter a word . The poor fellow was ahsolu tely hideous. She drooped her head with a thrill ofhorror. Ah said he
,I frigh ten you
,I see . I am
ugly enough,God wot. Do not look at
,but only hearken
to, me. In the daytime you shall stay here ; at nigh t
you can walk about all over the church . But stir not as tep ou t of i t ei ther by night or by day, or they will catch
you and kill you, and i t will be the death of me .”
Moved at this address,she raised her head to reply,
but he was gone . Once more she was alone, ponderingon the singular words of this almostM SW ?
g,and
arss truck by the tone of his voi ce, at once so and sogentle.She then began to examine her cell . I t was a chamber
some six feet square,with a small aperture for a window,
and. a door Opening upon the slightly in clined plane of the
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 327
roof,composed of flat s tones. Several gutters, terminating
in heads of animal s,seemed to bend down over i t, and to
stretch out their necks to look in at the hole . On a levelwith its roof she perce ived a thousand chimney- tops, disgorging the smoke of all the fires of Paris . Melan cholyprospect for the poor Egyptian
,a foundl ing
,rescued from
the gallows an unfortunate young creature, who hadneither coun try
,nor family
,nor home !
At the moment when the idea of her forlorn si tuationwrung her heart more keenly than ever, she felt a hairyshaggy head rubbing against her hands and her knees . She
shuddered every thing now alarmed her and looked .
I t was the poor goat,the nimble Dj ali
,which had escaped
along wi th her at the moment when Quasimodo dispersedCharmolue
’
s brigade, and had been at her feet nearly an
hour,lavi shing caresses on her mistress, withou t Obtaining
a single glance The Egyptian covered the fond animalwith ki sses . O Dj ali said she
, how I have forgotten thee ! And yet thou thinkest of me. Thou
,for
thy part,at least, art not ungrateful .
"At the same time,
as if an invi sible hand had removed the obstruction whichhad so long repressed her tears, she began to weep, and, asthe big drOps tr ickled down her cheeks , she felt the keenes t and bitterest portion of her sorrows leaving her alongwith them .
Evening came on. The nigh t was so beautiful, themoonlight so soft, that she ventured to take a turn in thehigh gallery which runs round the church . She felt somewhat refreshed by her walk
,so calm did the earth appear to
her, beheld from that elevation.
m s HUNCHBACK os NOTRE-DAME. 329
her,his whole face shone with j oy and tenderness . She
would have made him go in to her cell, but he insisted ons taying at her threshold. No
,no,
"said he
,the owl
never en ters the nest of the lark .
”
She then seated herself gracefull y on her bed, with hergoat at her feet. Both remained for some minutesmotionless
,contemplating in silen ce, he so much beauty,
she so much ugliness . Every momen t she discovered inQuasimodo some new deformity . Her look wanderedfrom his knock-knees to his hunchback, from his hun chback to his only eye . She could not conceive how acreature so awkwardly put together could exi st. At thesame time an air of such sadness and gentleness pervadedhis whole figure
,that she began to be reconciled with i t.
He was the firs t to break silence. D id you not callme back P
” said he.Yes replied she
,with a nod of affirmation .
He understood the sign . Alas ! said he,as i f he
sitating to finish, you must know,I am deaf."
Poor fell ow exclaimed the Bohemian, with an expression of pi ty .He smiled sadly . You think nothing else was wan t.
ing, don’
t you ? Yes,I am deaf. That is the way in
which I am served . I t i s terrible, i s i t no t while you— you are so beautifulThe tone of the poor fellow conveyed such a profound
feeling of his wretchedness that she had not the heart tou tte r a word . Besides
,he would not have heard her . He
then resumed Never ti ll now was I aware how hideousI am . When I compare myself wi th you
,I cannot hel p
p i tying myself, poor unhappy mon ster that I am I mustappear to you like a
’beast..
Y ou , you are a sunbeam, adrop of dew
,a bird
’
s song ! I,I am something fright
ful, neither man nor bru te, something harder, more shapeless, and more trampled upon, than a flint.
”
He then laughed, and scarcely could there be aught inthe world more cutting than this laugh . He continued
Yes, I am deaf : but you will speak to me by gestures,by signs. I have a mas ter who talks to me in tha t way.
330 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
And then,I shall soon know your meaning from the mo
ti on of your lips, from your look ."
Well then,
”replied she smiling
,
“ tell me why youhave saved me ?He looked stedfastly at her while she spoke.I unders tand
,
”rej oined he : you ask me why I saved
you . Y ou have forgotten a wretch who attempted onenight to carry you off
,a wretch to whom , the very next
day,you brought relief on the ignominious pillory. A
draught of water and a look of pity are more than I coul drepay wi th my life . You have forgotten that wretchbut he has not forgotten .
She listened to him with deep emotion . A tear startedinto the eye of the belLringer, but i t di d not fall . Heappeared to make a poin t o f repressing it. Look you,
”
he again began,when he no longer feared lest that tear
should escape him, we have very high towers here ;a man falling from one of them would be dead almost before he reached the pavemen t. When you wish to berid of me, tell me to throw myself from the top — youhave but to say the word nay
,a look will be sufficien t.”
He then rose . Unhappy as was the Bohemian, thi sgrotesque being awakened compassion even in her. Shemade him a sign to stay.
No,no
,
” said he,I must not stay too long. I do
not feel comfortable. I t i s ou t of pi ty that you do not
turn your eyes from me. I will seek some place whereI can look at you without your seeing me : that will bebetter.He drew from hi s pocket a small metal whistle. Take
this,
”said he when you want me
,when you wish me
to come,when you have the courage to see me
,whistle
with this . I shal l hear that sound.
”
He laid the whistle on the floor, and retired.
rm : HUNCHBACK 01a NOTR E-DAME . 33 1
CHAPTER IV.
EARTHENW ARE AND CRYSTAL.
T IME passed on. Tranquilli ty returned by degrees to thesoul of La Esmeralda. E x cessim gu efil ike em ssmugy,
i s too violent [pi ggy The human heart cannot continuelong in either extremity. The Bohemian had suffered somuch
,that
,of the feelings she had lately experienced, asto
nishment al one was left.Along with security h0pe began to revive wi thin her.
She was out of society,out of li fe, but she had a vagu e
feeling that i t might not be impossible for her to return tothem . She was like one dead, keeping in reserve a key toher tomb .
The terrible images which had so long haunted herwere leaving her by degrees . All the hideous phantoms
,
Pierrat Torterue,Jacques Charm olue, had faded from her
mind al l of them ,even the priest himself. And then,
Phoebus was yet living : she was sure of i t she had seenhim . To her the life of Phoebus was every thing. Afterthe series of fatal shocks which had laid waste all heraffections
,she had found but one sen timent in her soul
which they had not overthrown— her love for the captain .
deeply into nur whole bein and fre u OHM ?
be green- i vw And there
'
c
1 8 this unaccountable circumstance attending i t
,that the blinder that
passion the more tenacious i t i s . Never is i t stronger thanwhen i t is most unreasonable .No doubt La Esmeralda did not think of the captai n
without pain . No doubt i t was terrible that he too shouldhave made such a mistake
,that he too should have thought
the thing possible, that he too shoul d have believed thewound to be infli c ted by one who would have gi ven athousand lives for his sake. Still there was no great reason
rm : HUNCHBAOK or NOTRE- DAME. 333
but chastened with more sedateness, more repose . Herformer character returned also — even somewhat of hercheerfulness
,her pretty pout, her fondness for her goat
and for singing, and her modesty . In the morning shesh runk into a corner of her cell to dress herself, lest anyinmate of the neighbouring garrets should espy her throughthe window.
When the thoughts of Phoebus allowed her time, the
Egyptian would sometimes think of Quasimodo . He wasthe only bond
,the only link
,the only communication
,
that was left her with mankind,with the living. The un
fortunate girl was more completely cu t off from the worldthan Quasimodo . As for the strange friend whom chancehad given her
,she knew not what to make of him . She
would frequentl y reproach herself for not feel ing sufficien tgra ti tude to blind her to his imperfections ; but decidedlyshe could not accustom herself to the poor bel l- ringer. Hewas too hideous.She had left on the floor the whistl e that he had given
her. Quasimodo, nevertheless, looked in from time totime
, on the succeeding days . She strove as much as shecould to conceal her aversion , when he brought her thebasket o f provisions or the pitcher of water but he wassure to perceive the slightest movement of that kind, andthenhe went sorrowfully away .
One day,he came just at the moment when she was
fondling Dj ali . For a while he s tood full of thought before the graceful group of the goat and the Egyptian . Atlength
,shaking his huge misshapen head : My misfortune
,
"
said he, i s that I am too much like a human creature.Would to God that I had been a downrigh t beast, like thatgoatShe cast on him a look of astonishmen t. Oh he
replied to that look wel l do I know why,and imme
diately retired .
Another time, when he came to the door of the cell ,which he never entered
,La Esmeralda was singing an old
Spanish ballad : she knew not the meaning of the words,
but i t dwelt upon her ear because the Bohemian women hadlulled her wi th i t when quite a child. At the abrupt ap
334 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
pearance of that ugly face the damsel stopped short, withan involuntary start
,in the middle of her song. The un
happy bell _ ringer dropped upon his knees at the thresholdof the door, and with a beseeching look clasped his clumsyshapeless hands . Oh ! ” said he
,sorrowfully, go on
,
I pray you, and drive me not away . Not wishing to vexhim
,the trembling girl continued the ballad. By degrees
her alarm subsided,and she gave herself up entirely to the
impression of the melancholy tune which she was singingwhile he remained upon his knees
,with his hands j oined
as in prayer, scarcely breathing, his look inten tly fixed onthe sparkling orbs of the Bohemian . Y ou would have saidthat he was listening to her song with his eyes.On another occasion , he came to her wi th an awkward
and bashful air. Hearken to me, said he, with effort ;I have something to say to you .
”— She made a sign to
him that she was listening. He then began to sigh, halfopened his lips, appeared for a moment ready to speak,looked at her, shook his head, and slowly retired, pressinghis hand to his brow
,and leaving the Egyptian in amaze
ment.Among the grote sque heads sculp tured in the wall there
was one for which he showed a particular predilection, andwith which he seemed to exchange brotherly looks . TheEgyptian on ce heard him address i t in these words : Ohwhy am I not of stone, like theeAt length
, one morning, La Esmeralda, having advancedto the parapet of the roof, was looking at the Place, overthe sharp roof of St. Jean le Rond . Quasimodo was behind her. He stationed himself there ou purpose to sparethe damsel the di sagreeable spectacle of his ungainly person. On a sudden the Bohemian shuddered : a tear and aflash of j oy Sparkled at once in her eyes : she fell on herknees
,and extended her arms in anguish towards the Place
,
crying,Phoebus ! come come one word, a single word,
for God’
s sake Phoebus Phoebus — Her voice, herface
,her attitude
,her whole figure
,had the agoni sing ex
pression of a shipwrecked person who is making signals ofdistress to a dis tan t vessel sailing gaily along in the sunshine.
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 335
Quasimodo,bending forward
,perceived that the object
of this wild and tender appeal was a young and handsomehors eman
,a captain
,glistening wi th arms and accoutre
ments,who passed caracoling through the Place
,and bow
ing to a fair lady smiling in her balcony . The offi cer wastoo far off to hear the cal l o f the unhappy girl .But the poor deaf bell- ringer understood i t. A deep
sigh heaved his breas t ; he turned round ; his heart wasswollen wi th the tears which he repressed ; he dashed hisconvulsive fi sts against his head ; and when he removedthem there was in each of them a handful of red hair.The Egyptian paid no attention to him . Gnashing his
teeth,he said
,in a low tone
,Perdi tion That is how
one ought to look,then One need but have a handsome
outsideShe continued meanwhile upon her knees
,and cried,
with vehement agitation,
Oh there he alights He i sgoing in to that house Phoebus Phoebus He doesnot hear me ! Phoebus Oh ! the spi teful woman totalk to him at the same time that I do l — Phoebus !PhoebusThe deaf bell- ringer watched her. He comprehended
this pantomime. The poor fellow ’s eye fi lled with tears,
but he suffered none of them to escape. Al l at once hegently pulled her sleeve. She turned round . He hadassumed a look of composure
,and said to her
,Shall I
go and fetch him ?”
She gave a cry of j oy . Oh ! go, go ! run ! quick !that captain ! that captain ! bring him to
‘
me ! I willlove thee !" She clasped hi s knees . He coul d not helpshaking his head sorrowfully. I will go and bring himto you,
”said he
,in a faint voi ce. He then retired and
hurried down the staircase,stifled with sobs.
W hen he reached the Place,nothing was to be seen but
the fine horse fas tened to the gate of the Gondal aurierm ansion . The captain had just entered . He looked upto the roof of the church . La Esmeralda was still at thesame place
,in the same posture . He made her a sad sign
with hi s head, and leaned with hi s back against one of the
m s HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 337
the starry cope of night. Y ou would have said that theywere the cobwebs of the firmament. In one of those mo
ments he all at once saw the gl az ed door of the bal conymysteriously open . Two persons came forth , and shut itafter them without noise . I t was a man and a woman .I t was with some diffi culty that Quasimodo recogni sed inthe one the handsome captain
,in the other the young lady
whom he had seen in the morning welcoming the officerfrom the window. The Place was qui te dark ; and adouble crimson curtain, which had collapsed again behindthe door at the momen t of its shutting, scarcely suffered a.gleam of light from the apartmen t to reach the balcony .
The young captain and the lady, as far as our deafwatchman could judge — for he coul d not hear a wordthey said appe ared to indulge in a very tender téta-dJéte.
The young lady seemed to jhave permitted the officer tothrow his arm around her wai st, and feebly wi thstood a
Quasimodo wi tnessed from below this scene,which i t
was the more delightful to see, inasmuch as i t was not intended to be witnessed. He, however, contemplated thathappiness, that beauty, with bitterness of soul . After all,Nature was no t silen t in the poor fellow, and hi s vertebralcolumn
,confoundedly twisted as i t was
,nevertheless
thril led like any other. He thought of the miserable portion which Providence had al l otted to him that woman
,
love,and its pleasures
,would be for ever passing before his
eyes,but that he shou ld never do more than witness the
feli ci ty of others . But what affli cted him most in thi ssight
,and mingled anger wi th his vexation
,was
,to think
what the Egyptian must suffer if she beheld it. To besure
,the night was very dark La Esmeralda
,i f she had
s taid in the same place and he had no doubt of thatwas at a considerable distance and i t was qui te as muchas he could do himself to distinguish the lovers in the balcony. This was some consola tion .Meanwhile their conversation became more and more
animated . The young lady appeared to beseech the officernot to require more of her. Quasimodo could discern herfai r hands clasped, her smiles mingled wi th tears, her
2
3 38 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
looks uplifted to heaven, and the eager eyes of the captainbent down upon her.Luckily
,for the resistan ce of the female was becoming
m ore and more feeble, the door of the balcony suddenl yOpened ; an aged lady appeared the fair one looked con
fused,the officer vexed, and all three went in .
A moment afterwards,a horse was prancing beneath the
porch,and the brillian t offi cer, wrapped in his cloak, passed
swiftly before Quasimodo . The bell- ringer suffered himto turn the corner of the street, and then ran after himwith the agility of a monkey, crying : Ho ! captain ! ”
The captain pull ed up . What would the varlet withm e said he
,on spying in the dark the uncouth figure
l imping towards him .
Quasimodo,011 coming up to him, boldly laid hold of
the horse ’s bridle . Follow me, captain, sai d he ;there i s one who would speak with you .
"
By Mahound’s horns muttered Phoebus methinks I have seen this rascall y scarecrow somewhere orother. Halloo fell ow let go the bridle.”
Captain,
” replied the deaf bell—ringer ask me notwho i t i s.”
Loose my horse,
-I tell you, cried Phoebus, angrily .What means the rogue
,hangi ng thus from my bridle
rein . Dost thou take my horse for a gallows,knave
Quasimodo,so far from relaxing his hold of the bridl e
,
was preparing to turn the horse’s head the contrary way .
Unable to accoun t for the Opposi tion of the captain,he
hastened to give him this explanation . Come, captain’ ti s a female who is waiting for you a female who loveson .yA rare varlet said the captain to suppose that
I am obliged to go to all the women who love me, or say'
they do. After all, perhaps, she is like thyself with thatowl’s face Tell her who sen t thee that I am going to bemarried
,and that she may go to the devil .”
Hark ye,Monseigneur,
”cried Quasimodo, thinking
with a word to overcome his hesitation’
ti s the Egyptianwhom you are acquainted with .
This in timation made a strong impression upon Phoebus,
'rnn nUNa Acx or NOTRE-DAME . 339
but not of the kind that the speaker anticipated . I t wil lbe recollected that our gallan t officer had reti red wi thFleur-de-Lys a few moments before Quasimodo rescuedthe condemned girl from the clutches of Charmolue . I n allhis subsequent visi ts to the logis Gondalaurier, he hadcarefully abstained from mentioning that female, the recollection of whom was, be sides, painful to him and Fl eurde-Lys
, on her part, had not deemed i t poli ti c to tell him.
that the Egyptian was alive . Phoebus believed, therefore,that poor Similarwas dead, and that she must have beenso for a month or two . Add to thi s that for some moments the captain had been pondering on the extremedarkness of the nigh t, on the supernatural ugliness andsepulchral voice of the strange messenger : i t was pastmidnight the street was as lonely as on the evening thatthe spectre-monk had accosted him, and his horse snortedat the sight of Quasimodo .The Egyptian he exclaimed with almost a feeling
of te rror. What,then , art thou from the other world
At the same time he clapped his hand to the hilt of hi sdagger.Qui ck ! quick said the dwarf, s triving to lead the
horse this way !Phoebus dealt him a smart stroke with his whip across
the arm . Quasimodo’s eye flashed . He made a movement,
as if to rush upon the captain but,instantly restraining
himself, he said : Oh how happy you are since there issomebody who loves you laying particular emphasis onthe word somebody. Ge t you gone added he
,loosing
the bridle .Phoebus clapped spurs to his horse
,at the same time
swearing lustil y. Quasimodo looked after him till he waslost in the darkness . Oh said the poor fellow torefuse such a trifle as thatHe returned to Notre-Dame
,lighted his lamp
,and
ascended the tower. As he expected,the Bohemian was
s till i n the same place. The moment she saw him she ranto meet him . Alone she exclaimed
,sorrowful ly
clasping her hands.I could not meet with him,
” said Quasimodo dryly.z 2
m s B UNCHBAOK OF NOTE D-DAME . 341
day at her bosom . On that day she heard not the voicesinging from the tower — a circumstance that gave hervery li ttle concern . She passed whole days in fondl ingDjali , in watching the door Of the logis Gondalaurier, intalking to herself of Phcebus, and in feeding the swallowswi th crums of bread.For some time she had neither seen nor heard Quasi
modo. The poor bell- ringer seemed to have enti rely forsaken the church. One night, however, unable to sleepfor thinking of her handsome captain
,she heard a sigh
near her cell. Somewhat alarmed,she rose
,and by the
light of the moon she saw a shapeless mass lying outsideacross the doorway . I t was Quasimodo asleep upon thestones.
CHAPTER V.
TH E KEY OF THE PORTE ROUGE.
MEANW HILE publi c rumour had communicated to the archdeacon the miraculous manner in which the Egyptian hadbeen saved . When apprised of this, he knew not how hefelt. He had made up hi s mind to the death Of La E smeralda, and was therefore easy on that poin t : he haddrained the cup of misery to the dregs . The humanheart Dom Claude had deeply medi tated on these matters — cannot contain more than a certain quan ti ty of
despair. W hen a sponge is thoroughly soaked, the sea.
may pass over i t without introducing in to i t one additional drop .Now
,the sponge being fi lled by the death of La E s
meralda, Dom Claude could not experience keener suffering in thi s world. But to know that she was li ving, andPhoebus, too, was to be exposed anew to the vi cissi tudes,the shocks, the torments of li fe and C laude was weary ofthem all .On hearing these tid ings
,he shut himself up in his cell
in the cloi sters. He attended nei ther the conferences ofz 3
342 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
the chapter nor the usual offices . He closed his dooragainst all, not excepting the bishop and continued to seclude himself in this manner for several weeks. I t wasreported that he was ill . So he really was .What was he doing while thus shut up Under what
thoughts was the wretched archdeacon struggling ? l Vas
he engaged in a last confl ict with hi s indomitable passion ?Was he combining a final plan of death for her and perdi tion for himselfHis Jeban
,his beloved brother
,hi s spoiled child
,came
to his door, knocked, swore, entreated, mentioned his nameten times over C laude woul d not Open to him .
He passed whole days with hi s face close to the panesof his window. From that window, situated as we havesaid in the cloisters
,he could see the cell of La Esme
ralda : he percei ved the girl herself with her goat, somet imes with Quasimodo . He remarked the li ttle attentionsOf the scurvy hunchback
, his respectful manners and hissubmissive demeanour towards the Egyptian . He recollected — for he had a good memory
,and memory is the
tormen tor of the j eal ous he recollected the extraordinarylook of the bell ~ ringer at the dancing girl on a particul arevening . He asked himself what motive could have instigated Quasimodo to res cue her. He witnessed a thousandli ttle scenes between the Bohemian and the hunchback,the pantomime of which
,beheld at a di stance, and com
m ented on by his passion, appeared to him exceedinglytender. He then vaguely felt awakening within him aj ealousy such as he had no conception of
,a j ealousy which
made him blush for shame and indignation . For thecaptain — it was not surpri sing ; but for such an obj ect asthat The idea distracted him .
His nights were terrible . Since he knew that the Egyptian was alive
,the cold ideas of spectre and tomb which
haunted him for a whole day were di spelled,and the flesh
regained its dom inl on over him . He writhed upon hisbed
,when he reflected that the lovely brunette was so
near a neighbour to him .
Every night his fren zied imagination pictured to him LaEsmeralda in all those atti tudes which had made the
u m HUNCHBACK op NOTRE-DAME . 343
blood boil most vehemently in his veins . He saw herstretched upon the wounded captain, her eyes closed, herbeautiful bosom covered with his blood, at the moment oftransport, when the archdeacon had imprinted on her palelips that kiss which had felt to the unfortunate girl
,
though half dead,like the touch Of a burning coal . Again
he saw her stripped by the rough hands of the torturershe saw them expose her finely shaped leg
,and her white
supple knee,while they en cased her deli cate li ttle foot
in ; the screw-buskin . He further saw that ivory kneealone left uncovered by the horrible apparatus . Lastly
,he
figured to himself the forlorn damsel, the rope about herneck, with bare feet, bare shoulders, bare bosom,
as hehad seen her on the day of penance. These images madehis blood boil
,and a thrill run through his whole frame.
One night,among others
,they inflamed him to such a
degree,that, leaping out of his bed, he threw a surpli ce
over him,and qui tted his cell
,with his lamp in his hand
,
half naked, wild, and his eyes glaring like fire.He knew where to find the key of the Porte Rouge, the
communi cation between the clois ters and the church and,as the reader knows
,he always carried about him a key
Of the staircase to the towers.
CHAPTER VI .
SEQUEL TO THE KE Y OF THE PORTE ROUGE .
ON that night La Esmeralda had fallen asleep in her lodge,
forgetful of the past,and full of hope and pleasing thoughts .
She had slept for some time,dreaming
,as she was wont
,
Of Phoebus, when she seemed to hear a kind of noise abouther. Her sleep was always light and unquiet— g bird
’
sslegp g the leas t thing awoke her. She Opened her eyes .The nigh t was very dark. She nevertheless saw at thewindow a face looking at her : there was a lamp whi ch
Z 4:
m s HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 345
the hand of the Egyp tian touched someth ing cold, that feltlike metal. I t was Quasimodo ’s whistle . She sei zed i twith a convul sion Of hope, lifted i t to her lips, and whi s tledwi th all the force she had left. The whistle gave ou t a
clear,shrill
,piercing sound.
What is that ? enqui red the priest.Almost at the same moment he felt himself grasped by a:
vigorous arm . The cell was dark : he could not discernwho held him thus but he heard teeth gnashing with rage
,
and there was j ust sufficien t light scattered amid the darliness to enable him to see the broad blade of a cutlass glistening above his head.The priest imagined that he perceived the figure of Quaq
simodo. He supposed that i t could be no other. He recoll ected having stum bled on en tering against a bundl e Ofsomething lying across the doorway outside . Stil l
,as the
new comer uttered not a word,he knew not what to believe.
He caugh t the arm whi ch held the cutlass, crying, Quasimodo — forgetful, in this moment of di stress, thatQuasimodo was deaf.In the twinkling of an eye
,the priest was stretched on
the floor,and felt a leaden knee pressing upon his breast.
From the angular pressure of that knee he recognised Quasimodo but what could he do ? how was he to make himself known to the assailant ? night rendered the deaf monsterblind .
He gave himself up for lost. The girl, with as li ttlean e inte rposed not to save him . The
cutlass was is head . The moment wascri ti cal . All at once his adversary appeared to hesi tate .No,
”said a muttering voice NO blood upon her ! ”
I t was actual ly the voice of Quasimodo .The priest then fel t a huge hand dragging him by the
leg out of the cell : i t was there that he was to die. Luckilyfor him, the moon had just burst forth. When they werepast the door, her pale beams fell upon the head of thepriest. Quasimodo looked at his face
,was sei zed with a
trembling, relaxed his grasp, and started back.The Egyptian, who had advan ced to the threshold of
the cell , saw with surpri se the actors suddenly exchanging
346 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
characters. I t was now the priest’
s turn to threaten, Quasim odo
’
s to supplicate. The priest, having furiously assailed the hunchback with gestures of anger and reproach,at length motioned him to retire . Quasimodo stood for amoment with bowed head
,and then
,
‘falling on his kneesbefore the door of the Egyptian, Monseigneur
,said he
,
in a tone of gravi ty and resignation, ki ll me first,and
do what you please afterwards.”
As he thus spoke he Offered his cutlass to the priest.Beside himself wi th rage, the priest clutched at the weapon ;but La Esmeralda was too quick for him . Snatching thecutlass from the hand of Quasimodo
,and bursting in to an
.hysteri c laugh,“ Come on ! ” said she to the priest.
She held the blade upl ifted The priest wavered . She
woul d certainly have struck. Thou darest not approachnow, coward,
” she cried. Then,with unpitying look
,and
well aware that she should pierce the heart of the priest aswith a thousand red-hot irons
,she added, Ah ! I know
that Phoebus i s not deadThe priest
,with a violen t kick
,overthrew Quasimodo
,
and rushed quivering with rage to the vaulted staircase.When he was gone
,Quasimodo picked up the whistle
which had been the means Of saving the Egyptian . I twas getting rusty
,
”said he
,handing i t to her. He then
left her to herself.The damsel
,vehemently agi tated by this violent scene,
sank exhausted upon her bed,and sobbed aloud. Her
hori zon had again become overcast.The priest
, on his part, groped his way back tohis cell.The thing was conclusive. Dom Claude was j ealous of
Quasimodo wi th pensi ve look he repeated the fatal phrase,Nobody shall have her
END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
'rnn HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 347
VOLUM E TH E FOURTH .
BOOK IX .
CHAPTER I.
GRINGOIRE H A S SEVERAL CAPITAL IDEAS ONE AFTERANOTHER IN THE R UE DES BERNARD IN S.
As soon as Gringoire perceived the turn which thi s wholeaffair was taking
,and that decidedly halter, gibbet, and
other unpleasan t things would be the lot of the principalcharacters of this comedy, he felt no sort of inclina tion toi nterfere in i t . The Vagabonds
,with whom he had re
mained,considering that after all they were the best com
pany in Paris,had continued to in terest themselves for
the Egyptian . This he thought perfectly natural in peoplewho, l ike her, had no other prospect than Charm olue andTorterue
,and who never soared like him into the region s
of imagination between the two wings of Pegasus . Fromthem he learned that she whom he had espoused over thebroken jug had taken sanctuary in Notre-Dame, and hewas very glad of i t. He thought sometimes of the li ttlegoat and that was all . In the daytime he perform edmountebank tri cks for a li velihood
,and at night he elucu.
brated a memorial against the bishop of Paris,for b e re
membered the drenching he had got from his mills,and
bore him a grudge for i t. He was also engaged in a commentary upon the admired work of BaudryJe-Rouge,bishop of Noyon and Tournay
, De Cupa P alraram,which
had awakened in him a violen t passion for archite cturea passion whi ch had superseded in his heart the passion forhermetics ; the one indeed was but a natural coroll ary tothe other, since there is an in timate connection between
'rnn HUNOHBACK or NO '
I’RE-DAME . 349
’Tis paradise !
”exclaimed Gringoire. And, turning
to the sculptures,with the dazzled look of a demonstrator
of li ving phenomena, Don’
t you think,” said he
,that
this metamorphosis in low relief, for example, i s execute dwith great skill
,patien ce, and deli cacy Look at this
little pillar. About what capital did you ever see fol iagemore elegant and more highly finished ? Look at thosethree medallions by Jean Maillevin. They are not firstrate works of that great genius : nevertheless, the truthto nature
,and the sweetness of the faces
,the gaiety of the
atti tudes and draperies,and that inexplicable charm which
is blended with all the defects,render the miniature figures
exceedingly lively and exceedingly delicate perhaps toomuch so . Do you not think that this i s amusing ? ”
Yes,I do
,said the priest.
And if you were to see the interior of the chapelresumed the poet
,with his garrulous enthusiasm
,scul p
tures all over ; tufted like a caul iflower. The choir i s i na right godly style
,and so pe culiar that I never saw any
thing like i t .Dom Claude interrupted him . Y ou are happy,
thenYes, upon my honour, replied Gringoire with warmth .
At fi rst I was fond of women, then of beasts , now ofstones . They are quite as amusing as women and beasts
,
and much less treacherous .”
The priest raised his hand to his brow. I t was hishabitual gesture . Indeed l ”
Stay,”said Gringoire
,you shall see that a man need
not want pleasure.” He took the arm of the priest,who
made no resistance,and drew him into the staircase turret
of the For-l’
Evéque . There is a staircase for you ! whenever I look at i t I am happy . I t i s the simplest of itskind, and yet the most exquisite in Pari s. Every step i srounded Off underneath . I ts beauty and simpli ci ty consis ti n the overlapping parts
,which for a foot or thereabout are
let in, mortised, imbedded, enchained, in chased, dovetailedone into another, and bite in such a way as to be not lesssolid than goodly.
350 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
And you wish for nothing ?No.And regret nothingNeither wishes nor regrets. I have arranged my
M an arranges, said C laude circumstances derange.
”
I am a Pyrrhonian philosopher,replied Gringoire
,
and I keep every thing in equilibrium .
”
And how do you earn a livelihood ?
I still make epics and tragedies now and then ; butwhat brings in most money is the trade you have seen mefollow carrying pyramids of chairs and so forth betweenmy teeth .
A scurvy trade for a philosopher .I t has to do wi th the equilibrium
,said Gringoire.
When you take an idea into your head,you find i t in
every thing.I know it
,
” replied the archdeacon .
After a pause the priest resumed Y ou are neverthe
less as poor as everPoor enough
,I gran t you
,but not unhappy .
At this moment the dialogue was interrupted by thetrampling of horses, and a company of archers Of the king
’sordnance
,with raised lances
,and an officer at their head
,
passed the end of the street . The cavalcade was brilliant,arid the pavement rang beneath their tread.How you eye that officer !
” said Gringoire to the arch-4deacon .
I rather think I know him .
What i s his name ?”
I believe,
” said C laude,
“his name is Phoebus deChateaupers.”
Phoebus,a curious name ! There is also a Phoebus
comte de Foix. I once knew a girl who never swore butby Phoebus.
”
Come this way said the priest,I have something
to say toEver since the appearance of the archers
,some agitation
was percep tible under the frozen exterior of the archdeacon .
'rr m HUNOHBAOK on NOTRE-DAME . 351
He walked on,followed by Gringoire, who was wont to
obey him,like all who had ever approached him
,such was
the ascendancy which he exerci sed . They proceeded insilence to the Rue des Bem ardins
, where a casual passengeronly was at times to be seen . Here Dom C laude stoppedshort.What have you to say to me, master ?
” enquiredGringoire.
Don’
t you think said the archdeacon, with a look ofdeep reflection
,that the dress of those archers, who have
j ust passed i s finer than yours or mineGringoire shook his head. By my fay I like my red
and yell ow j acket better than those shells of iron and steel.A sorry pleasure, to make at every step the same noise thatthe I ronmongers’ Quay would do in an earthquakeThen
,Gringoire
, you have never envied thos e comelyfellows in their habiliments of war
Envied them for what,Mr. Archdeacon ? for
their strength,thei r armour
,thei r discipline ? Far pre
ferable are philosophy and independence in rags . I hadrather be the head Of a fly than the tail of a lion .
”
That‘
is singul ar !”said thoughtfully. A
goodly unif orm i s nevertheless goodly .
”
Gringoire, seeing him absorbed in thought, left him ,and
wen t up to the porch of a neighbour ing house . Presen tl yhe returned, clapping his hands . I f you were not sodeeply engaged with the goodly uniforms of the men-atarms
,Mr . Archdeacon
,I would beg you to go and look at
that door. I always said that the entran ce to the SieurAubrey
’
s house i s not to be matched al l the world over.”
“Pierre Gringoire,said the archdeacon
,what have
you done with the young Egyptian dancing girlLa Esmeralda ? Why
,how abruptly you change
the conversationWas she not your wifeYes, after a fashion : by means of a broken jug we
were j oined together for four years . By the by,” added
Gringoire, with a half ban tering tone and look, you seemto be always think ing of her.”
And do you never think of her now ?
THE nononnaox or s ore s -Dams. 3 53
I desire no better, Dom Claude, but perhaps I mayget my own neck into an ugly nooseWhat signifies that ?”
What signifies i t Y ou are exceedingly kind, master !I have just begun two great works.
”
The priest struck his forehead. Notwi thstanding thecompo sure whi ch be affected, a violent gesture from time totime betrayed his inward convulsions . What can bedone to save her
Mas ter,
” said Gringoire,
” I answer, IIpadelt, whichis Turkish for God is our hope.What can be
‘done to save her ? repeated Claude
,
thoughtfully.Gringoire
,in hi s turn, struck his brow. Hark ye
,
master,I have no lack of imagination ; I will devise ex
pedients . Suppose we solici t the king’s pardon .
”
Pardon ! of Loui s XI .Why not PTake the bone from the hungry tiger.Gringoire cast about for other expedien ts .Well, s top Shall we make declaration that the
girl is pregnant, and demand an examination of matronsThe pupil of the priest
’
s hollow eye sparkled . Pregnant, dolt Knowest thou aught to that purpo se ?His look alarmed Gringoire. 0 no, not I he
hastil y replied. Our marri age was literal ly f orts-"writag ium
— for I was shut out. At any rate we should oh
tain a respite.”
Stupid oaf hold thy tongue !Nay, don
'
t be angry, muttered Gringoire . Onemight obtain a respite that would harm nobody
,and
would put forty deniers pari sis in to the pockets of the ma
trons, who are poo r women .”
The priest heard him not. At any rate, he muttared, she must away The order mus t be executed i nthree days Besides, if there were no order, tha t Quasimodo Who can accoun t for the depraved tastes of women Then raising his voice : Mas ter Pierre,
"said
he,“I have well weighed the matter : there i s but one
way to save her.”
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
And which ? I can see none for my part .Hark ye
,Master Pierre recollect that to her you owe
your life . I will tell you frankly my idea . The churchi s watched night and day only such persons as have beenseen to enter are suffered to go ou t again . Of course youwoul d be allowed to go in . You must come
,I will take
you to her. Y ou must change clothes with her.So far, so good
,
”observed the philosopher.
then ?”
Why then she will go away in your clothes,and you
will remain in hers . You will be hanged perhaps ; butshe will escap e.Gringoire rubbed his br
'
ow with a profoundl y seriouslook .
I declare, said he, that i s an idea whi ch wouldnever have come into my head of i tself.
”
At this unlooked- for prOpoSition'
of Dom Claude’s,the
open and good-humoured countenance of the poet wasovercast
,l ike a smiling landscape of I taly
,when some nu
lucky blast dashes a cloud upon the sun .
Well,Gringoire
,what say you to this exp
'
edient ?I say
,master
,they will not hang me perhaps
,but
they will hang me to a certain tyThat does not concern us.The devil exclaimed Gringoire .She saved your life. You are only paying a debt.How many of my debts besides that are unpaidMaster Pierre
,you absolutely must comply.”
The archdeacon spoke imperatively .Hark ye
,Dom Claude
,
” replied the dismayed poet,
you cling to this idea ; but you are quite wrong. I seeno reason why I should thrust my head in to the halter instead of another.
”
What is there then that so strongly attaches you to
Why,a thousand things .
What are theyP— I would ask .
What are they The fresh air,the blue sky, morn
ing and evening, the warm sunshine, and the moonlight,mygood friends the Vagabonds, our romps with the good
THE B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME .'
355
natured damsels,the beautiful architectural works of Paris
to study, three thick books to write one of them agains tthe bishop and his mills and I know not what besides .Anaxagoras said that he was in the world to admire thesun . And then, I have the felici ty to pass all my daysfrom mom to eventide with a man of genius, to wi t myself
,which is exceedingly agreeable.A head fi t for a bell muttered the archdeacon .
Well,
'but tell me,who saved thi s life which is so charmingto thee ? To whom is i t owing that thou yet breathestthis air
,beholdest that sky
,and canst amuse thy lark ’s
spirit with extravagances and foll ies ? What wouldstthou be but for her ? And yet thou canst suffer her todie — her
,to whom thou owest thy life her
,that beauti
ful,lovely
,adorable creature, necessary to the light of the
world,more divine than God himself ; whilst thou, half
sage,half-madman
,rough sketch of something or other
,a
species of vegetable, who imaginest thou canst walk andthink
,thou wilt continue to li ve wi th the li fe of which
thou hast robbed her,as useless as a candl e at noonday
Nay,nay, have some feeling, Gringoire : be generous in
thy turn . I t was she who set the example .The priest was warm . . Gringoire li stened to him at
first with a look of indecision presently he began to
soften,and at last he put on a tragic grimace, which made
his wan face look like that of a new-born infant whi ch hasthe colic .
Y ou are patheti c, said he, brushing away a te arWell I will think about i t.
’
T i s a droll idea,this of
yours ! Pausing awhile,he continued After all
,
who knows perhaps they will not hang me . Betrothal isnot always foll owed by marriage . When they find me upyonder in the little cell, so grotesquely attired in cap andpetticoat
,perhaps they will only laugh .
— And then,if
they do hang me, why, death by the halter i s like any otherdeath, or, more correctly speaking, i t is not like any otherdeath . I t is a death worthy of the sage who has oscillatedall his life ; a death, which is nei ther fish nor flesh, likethe soul of the downright sceptic ; a death impressed allover with Pyrrhonism and hesitation, which holds the
A A 2
m s HUNOHBAOK or NOTE S-DAME. 357
- A sudden attack . In the confusion,carry her away
TO-morrow night they will desire nothing be tter .Your proposal ! Le t us hear ! said the priest, shak
Gringoire turned maj es tically towards him . Leaveme alone you see I am composing.
” Having consideredfor a few moments longer
,he clapped his hands in exult
a tion,exclaiming
,Admirable sure to succeed !
But the means ? enquired Claude,angrily. Grin
goire’
s face beamed with triumph .
Come hi ther, then, and lend me your ear.
’
Tis a
right bold counter-mine, which will get all of us out of outtrouble. By heaven ! i t must be confessed that I am no
fool.He stopped short. By the by
, is the li ttle goat withthe girl ?Yes — devil fetch thee !They meant to have hanged her too did they not ?
”
What is that to me ?Yes, they meant to hang her. W hy, i t was only last
month that they hanged a sow. The hangm‘
an likes that— he eats the meat afterwards . Hang my pretty Djali !Poor, dear, li ttle lamb
Mali sons upon thee ! ” cried Dom Claude. Thouthyself art the hangman. What means
,dolt
,hast thou
devised for saving her ? Must one tear thine idea fromthee with pin cers ?Gently, master, I will te ll you .
Gringoire bent his lips to the archdeacon’
s ear,and
whispered very softly, at the same time casting an uneasylook from one end of the street to the other
,though not a
crea ture was passing. When he had finished, Dom Claude
grasped hi s hand, and said coldl y, Good ! to-morrowTo-morrow,
” repeated Gringoire. The archdeaconretired one way, while he went the other, saying to himself,in an under- tone
,A rare business this
,Mon sieur Pierre
Gringoire . NO matter ! I t shall not be said, that becauseone is little one shrinks from great undertakings. Bite
carried mm -gromlx bp‘l l upon his shoul dW agtail,w
the nightingale, the swallow, cross the ocean .
358 THE HUNCHBACK OF ‘
NorR E -DAME .
CHAPTER I I .
TUR N VAGABOND .
TH E archdeacon, on hi s return to the cloisters, found hisbrother Jehan waiting for him at the door of his cell. Theyouth had amused himself
,while waiting, by drawing with
a piece of charcoal upon the wall a profile of his elder brother, enri ched with an enormous nose.Dom Cl aude scarcely looked at Jehan : his thoughts
were otherwise engaged. The reckless,jovial countenance
of Jehan, the radiance of which had so Often restored serenity to the gloomy physiognomy of the priest, was nowincapable of dispelling the mist ’
which thickened daily overhis corrupt, mephiti c, and stagnan t soul .
Brother,
” said Jeban,shyly
,I am come to see you .
What then ?”replied the archdeacon
,without so much
as lifting his eyes to him .
Brother,” resumed the young hypocri te
,you are so
kind to me,and give me such good advice, that I cannot
stay away from you .
’
What then . repeated Dom C laude .Alas, b1 other ! you had great reason to say to me,
Jeban conduct yourself discreetly Jehan attend to yourstudies ; Jeban pass not the night ou t of college, withoutlegitimate occasion and the leave of the master. Beat notthe
‘Picards . R ot not, like an unlettered ass, upon the
straw of the school. Jehan, submit to punishment at thediscretion of the master. Jeban
,go to chapel every even
ing,and sing an anthem
,with collect and prayer
,to the
blessed Virgin Mary.’ Ah ! what excellen t counsels werethese ! ”
What more ?Brother
, you see before you a sinner, a grievous sinner
,a wretch
,a libertine
,a criminal
,a reprobate. My dear
brother,Jchan has trodden under foot your gracious coun
sels like straw and li tter. Severely am I punished for it
r im B UNCHBAOK OF NOTR E-DAME . 359
God Almighty i s rigidl y just. So long as I had money,
I made merry,revelled in folly
,and led a j oyous li fe . How
fascinating is debauchery in front,but Oh ! how ugly and
deformed behind ! Now I have not a coin left ; I havesold my linen . My j oyous life i s over. The bright taperis put ou t ; and I have but a scurvy tallow- candl e whi chstinks in my nostrils . The girls make a mock at me . Ihave only water to drink. I am dunned by remorse andcreditors.What more ? said the archdeacon .
Alas ! my dear brother,I would fain tu rn me to a
better life. I come to you full of contriti on . I am penitent. I confess my faul ts. I have great reason to wishthat I may one day become li centiate and sub-monitor ofthe college of Torchi . At thi s moment I feel an irresistiblevocation to that office . But I have no ink, I have no pens,I have no paper
,I have no books— I must buy more . T0
this end I am in great need of a li ttle money, and I amcome to you
,brother
,with a heart full of contri tion .
I s that all ? ”
Y es,”said the scholar. A li ttle money .
I have none ."
Well then, brother, replied Jeban, with a grave andat the same time a de termined look, I am sorry to haveto inform you that very fair offers have been made to mefrom another quarter. You will not give me some money
NThen I wil l turn Vagabond . In uttering this mon
strous res olution, he assumed the look of Aj ax expectingthe thunderbolt to descend upon his head.Turn Vagabond
,coldl y repli ed the archdeacon .
Jehan made a low obeisance,and skipped whistling down
the cloister stairs.At the moment when he was passing through the court
of the cloisters,beneath the window of his brother ’s cell,
he heard i t open,and, looking up, saw the stern face of the
archdeacon protruded through the aperture . Go to the
devil said Dom Claude : that is the last money thoushalt have from me.”
At the same time the priest threw at Jehan a purseA A 4
'rnn nuncnnx cx or NOTRE-DAME. 36 1
had they chanced to enter the redoubtable Cour des Miracles
,might have remarked that there was a greater tu
mult than usual in the tavern of the Vagabonds, and thatthe inmates were both drinking and swearing more lustily.In the open space without were numerous groups conversing in a subdued tone
,as when some important enterprise
is planning ; and here and there a varlet was crouching,and whetting some rusty weapon or other upon a paving~s tone.The tavern i tself
,however
,wine
,and gaming, were so
powerful a di version to the ideas which on that evening en
gros sed the vagabond crew, that i t would have been difficul tto discover from the conversation of the t0pers the natureof their project . They merely appeared to be in higherspiri ts than ordinary
,and between the legs of each was
seen glistening some weapon or other — a bill-hook,a
hatchet,a thi ck bludgeon
,or the supporter of an Old arque
buss.The room, of circular form,
was very spacious but thetables were so close, and the customers so numerous, thatall the contents of the tavern
,men and women
,benches
and beer-jugs,those who were drinking, those who were
sleeping,those who were gaming
,the able- bodied and the
cripple,seemed to be tumbled together pell-mell, with
j ust as much order and harmony as a heap of oyster- shells .
A few tallow- candl es were burning on the tables, but thereal luminary of the tavern, that which performed the partof the chandelier at the Opera house
,was the fire. This
cellar was so damp that the fire was never suffered to goout even in summer. I t was an immense fire-place, withcarved man tel, bris tling wi th clumsy andirons and o therculinary apparatus
,containing one of those large fires of
wood and turf mixed,whi ch at night in the village stree ts
produce, by their gl are on the Opposi te wall s, the appearanoes of the windows of a smithy . A large dog, squattedin the ashes, was turning a spi t laden with viands beforethe fire .Notwi thstanding the confusion
,after the firs t glan ce
there might be distinguished,in this multi tude, three prin
cipal groups crowding around three personages with whom
362 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
the reader i s already acquainted. One of these personages, grotesquely bedizened with many a piece of
eastern frippery,was
Egypt and Bohemia.his legs crossed, his finger uplifted, imparting in a loudvoice, sundry lessons in
' black and whi te magic to many agaping , face around him . Another party had drawnclosely about our old friend
,the valiant king of Thunes
,
who was armed to the very teeth . Clopin Trouillefou,with grave look and in a low voice
,was superintending the
pillage of a large hogshead full of arms,which stood with
head knocked out before him, and from which stores ofhatchets
,swords
,coats of m ail, hunting knives, spear
heads,saws
,angers, were disgorged like apples and grapes
from a cornucopia . Each took from the heap what hepleased — one a helmet
,another a long rapier
,a third
a cross or basket-hilted dagger. The very children armedthemselves, and there were even li ttle urchins cuirassedand accoutred
,running between the legs of the topers like
large beetles.Lastly, a third party, the most noisy, the most j ovial,
and the most numerous,occupied the benches and tables,
amidst which a treble voice was swearing and holding forthfrom beneath a heavy suit of armour complete from headto heel. The indi vidual who had thus encased himselfwas so impanopl ied by his martial accoutrements, that nopart of his person could be seen
,save a saucy, red, snub
nose,a look of light hair
,rosy lips
,and daring eyes . He
had his belt stuck full of daggers,a long sword at his
thigh, a rusty arbalest on his left, a large jug of wine b efore him, to say nothing of a trollop with Open bosom on
his right. Every mouth around him was laughing, cursing, drinking.Add to these twenty secondary groups, the attendants,
male and female,running about with plates and jugs,
the gamesters, lolling over the billiards, the merils , andthe dice
,the impassioned game of the tringlet ; the quar
rels in one corner,the kisses in another ; and you wil l
have some idea of the whole, over which fli ckered the glare
THE n tm onnaox or NOTRE-DAME . 363
of a huge blazing fire, which made a thousand broad, groteaque shadows dance on the walls Of the tavern .
As for the noise,i t was like that within a be ll in a
grand peal.Amidst all this din , upon the bench in the chimney- cor
ner was seated it philosopher absorbed in meditation, hisfeet in the ashes
,and his eye fixed on the burning brands.
I t was Pierre Gringoire .Come
,make haste
,arm yourselves we shall start in
an hour said Clopin Trou ill efou to hi s crew.
Two card-players were quarrelling. Knave, criedthe more rubicund of the two
,holding up his fist at the
othe r,I will mark thee with the club . Thou shalt be
qualified to succeed Mistigri in the card-parties of Mon
seigneur the K ing.
”
Oaf,roared a Norman, who might easily be known
by his nasal twang,we are crammed together here like
the saints of Cal louvilleMy sons
,
”said the duke Of Egypt to his audi tors
,in
his falsetto,
“the witches of France go to the Sabbathwithout broom or aught else to ride on
,merely wi th a few
magi cal words : those of I taly always have a goat at thedoor waiting for them . They are all obliged to go ou t ofthe house through the chimney.
”
The voice Of the young warrior in armour was heardabove the uproar. Huzza ! huzza l .
” cried he,my
first feat of arms to-day AVagabond Zounds what amI but a Vagabond ! Pour me ou t some drink My friends,my name is Jehan Frollo du Moulin
,and I am a gen tle
man . I could lay any wager that if Jupi ter werea gendarme
,he would be fond of plunder. We are going,
brothers,on a rare expedition . We are valian t fellows .
Lay siege to the church,break open the doors
,carry off
the damsel, rescue her from the judges, save her from thepriests, dismantle the cloisters, burn the bishop in hi spalace why
,we shall do i t all in les s time than a burgo
master takes to eat a basin of soup . Our cause is a righteons one we
’
ll plunder No tre-Dame that ’s flat. We ’llhang Quasimodo. Do you kno
'
w Quasimodo,fair gentle
women . Have ye seen him puffing upon the great hel l on
THE HUNCHBACK or NON E-DAME. 365
Dame the sooner the better I In the chapel of St. Fereoland St. Ferrutien there are two statues, one of St. JohnBaptist
,the other of St. Antony, both of gold, weighing to
gether seventeen marks fifteen esterlings, and the pedestalsof silver gil t se venteen marks five ounces . I know this toa certainty— I am by trade a goldsmi th .
By this time Jehan’
s supper was se t before him . Throwing himself on the bosom of his female neighbour, b e exclaimed, BySt. Voul t-de-Lucques l— the people call himSt. Goguelu,— I am the happiest fellow in Paris, though Ihave renounced the half of a house situate, lying, and being, in Paradise, promised me by my bro ther the archdeacon . Look at that simpleton, gazing at me with thesmooth look of an archduke. There is another on my leftwith tusks so long that they hide his chin . Body 0’ Mahound ! comrade ! thou hast the very air and odour of a
bone-dealer and yet hast the assuran ce to clap thyself downso near me ! I am noble, my friend. Trade is incompatible with nobility. Go thy ways — Soho ! you there !what are ye figh ting for ? What
,Baptiste Croque Oison,
art not afraid to risk thy goodly nose against the clumsyfis ts of that booby ? Knowest thou not
,simpleton
, non
cu iquam da tum es t habere nasum — Thou art absoluwdivine
,Jacqueline Rouge-Oreille ! pity thou hast no hair !
—Girls ! look to those brats’ noses and snuff the candles !—Christ and Mahound ! what have I got here ? Oh the
filthy hussy - the hair that is gone from the heads of thystrumpets
,thy customers find in thy omelets. D
’
ye hear,
devi l’
s cook, I like bald omelets ! goodly hostelry of Beelz ebub
,where the sluts comb their heads wi th forks !
So saying,he dashed his plate on the pavement, and be
gan singing with all his might one of the peculiar songs ofthe lawless crew of whom he had become a worthy associate .Clopin Trouillefou had meanwhile finished his distri
bution of arms. He went up to Gringoire,who
,with his
feet on the andiron,appeared to be in a brown study.
Friend Pierre,
” said the king of Thunes, what thedevil art think ing ofGringoire turned towards him wi th a melancholy smile.I am fond of the fire, my dear sir,
” said he, not for
366 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
the trivial reason that i t warms our feet or cooks our soup,
but because there are sparks'in i t. Sometimes I pass whole
hours watching those sparks . I di scover a thousand thingsin those stars which sprinkle the black chimney-back.
Those stars are worlds too.”
Thunder and death if I understand thee cried theking of Thunes. Dost know what hour i t is ? ”
Not I,
” answered Gringoire .C lopin then went to the duke of Egypt. Comrade
Matthias,said he
,i t lacks not quite one quarter of an
hour. I am told the king is in Paris.”
One reason more why we should get our sister ou t oftheir clutches
,
” replied the Old Bohemian .Thou speakest like a man, Matthias, rejoined Trou
illefou . Besides,we shall get on swimmingly . N0 re
sistance to fear in the church . The canons are mere hares,
and we are strong. The officers of the parliament will befinely tak‘
én in to-morrow when they go to look for her.By the pope ’s nose they shall not hang the comely damsel.”
With these words Clopin sallied forth from the tavern .
Gringoire,roused from his meditations
,had begun to
contemplate the wild and noisy scene around him,mutter
ing between his teeth,Lux uriosa res vinum et tumu ltuosa
ebrietas . What good reason have I to abstain from liquorand how admirably St. Benedict observes, Vinum apostotaref acit etiam sapientes
At that moment C lopin returned, and shouted with avoice of thunder
,Midnight ! ”
At this signal,whi ch had the efl
'
ect of the sound to horseupon a regimen t in halt
,all the Vagabond crew, men, wo
men,and chi ldren
,poured in a torrent out of the tavern
,
wi th a loud noise of arms and the clanking of iron implements.The moon was overcast . The Cour (les Miracles was
qu ite dark . Not a light was to be seen . I t was nevertheless filled with a multitude of both sexes , who talked in lowtones together. A vast buzz was to be heard, and all sortsof weapons were seen
v
f stening in the dark . Clopinmounted a huge stone. T0 your ranks, ye men of Cant,
”
he cried . “To your ranks, Egypt ! T0 your ranks, Ga
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 367
lilec A bustle ensued amid the darkness . The immensemulti tude appeared to be forming in column . In a fewminutes the king of Thunes again raised his voice . Now
,
silence in passing through the streets ! No torch is to belit till we are at None—Dame. MarchIn less than ten minutes the horsemen of the watch fled
panic- stri cken before a long black procession descending inprofound silen ce towards the Pon t- au - Change, along thewinding streets which run in all direc tions through themassive quarter of the Halles.
CHAPTER IV.
A M ISCHIEVOUS FRIEND .
THAT same night Quasimodo slept not. He had justgone his last round in the chur ch. He had not remarkedthat
,at the moment when he was fastening the doors, the
archdeacon had passed,or the ill-humour he had shown
on seeing him employed in careful ly bolting and padl ockingthe immense iron ' bars
,which gave to the large folding
doors the solidity of a wall . Dom Claude appeared thatnight to be more deeply absorbed in thought than usual .Ever since the nocturnal adventure in the cell
,he had
treated Quasimodo with great harshness ; but, in spi te ofthis usage, nay even though he sometimes went so far asto s trike him
,nothing could shake the submission
,the
patien ce, the devoted resignation, of the faith ful bellringer. From the archdeacon he would take any thing
,
abuse, threats, blows, without murmuring a reproach,without uttering a complain t. The utmost that he didwas to watch the archdeacon wi th
'
anxiety when he ascended the staircase Of the tower ; but Claude had of
himself cau tiously abstained from appearing again in thepresence of the Egyptian .
That night then, Quasimodo, after taking a glance athis bells, at Mary, at Jacqueline, at Thibaul t, whom he
THE H UNCBBAOK on NOTRE-DAME. 869
i t afterwards ceased en tirely, and the outline of the quayagain became straight and motionless .While Quasimodo was forming all sorts of conjectures
,
the movement seemed to t e - appear in the Rue du Parvis,
which runs in to the Ci ty,perpendicularly to the facade of
Notre-Dame. At last, notwithstanding the in tense darkness
,he perceived the head of a column approaching
through this street, and the next moment a crowd spreaditself over the Place du Parvis, where nothing cou ld bedistinguished but that i t was a crowd .
This sight was alarming. It is probable that this singular procession, which seemed to make a poin t of avoidingobservation
,was equally careful to maintain profound si
len ce yet i t could not help making some noise, were i tonly by the trampling of feet. But even thi s soundreached not the ear of Quasimodo ; and this vast multitude
,of which he could scarcely see any thing
,and of
which he heard absolutely nothing, though al l was hustleand motion so near to him
,must have had the effect of
an army of the dead, mute, impalpable, and shrouded invapou r. I t appeared to him as if a mist full of humanbeings was approaching, and that what he saw movingwere shadows of the shades .Then were his apprehensions revived, and the idea of an
attempt against the gipsy—girl again occurred to hi s mind .
He had a confused foreboding of mischief. At thi s criti cal momen t he began to consider what course he had bes tpursue
,and with more judgment and decision than might
have been expected from a brain so imperfectly organised.Ought he to wake the Egyptian ? to assist her to escape ?
How which way the streets were invested the churchwas backed by the river. There was no boat
,no outlet.
He had, therefore, but one course to die on the threshold of Notre-Dame ; at any rate to make all the resistance in his power un til succour should arrive
,and not to
disturb the slumbers of La Esmeralda ; the unfortunatecreature would be awakened time enough to die. Thi sresolution once taken, he set about examining the enemywi th greater composure .The crowd seemed to increase every moment in the
B B
370 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAMEJ.
Parvis. He presumed, however, that the noise they mademust be very slight, becaus e the windows in the streetsand the Place remained closed. All 'at once a l ight appeared, and in an instan t seven or eight l ighted torchesrose above the heads of the multi tude, shaking their tuf tsof flame amid the darkness. Then did Quasimodo di stinctly perceive a frightful rabble of men and women inrags, armed wi th scythes , pikes, pick-axes, and halberts,wi th their thousand gli stening heads. Here and thereblack forks projected like horns over hideous faces . Hehad some vague recollection of this mob
,and fancied that
he had seen those faces some months before,when he was
elected Pope of Fools . A man, who held a torch in one
hand and a cudgel in the other, got upon a post, and appeared to be haranguing them . At the same time thi sstrange army made some evolutions
,as if certain divisions
were taking their respective stations about the church .
Quasimodo picked up his lantern,and went down to the
platform between the towers, to obtain a nearer view and
to arrange his means of defence.C lopin Trouillefou , on his arrival before the lofty por
tal of Notre-Dame, had, in fact, ranged his troops i norder of battle . Though he expected no resistance
,yet he
resolved,like a prudent general , to preserve such order as
would enable him to face about in case of need againstany sudden attack of the watch or of the onz ew ingts .
Accordingly, he drew up his brigade in such a way that,had you seen i t from above, or at a di stance, you wouldhave taken i t for the Roman triangle at the battle of
E cnomus, the boar’
s head of Alexander, or the famouswedge of Gustavus Adolphus . The base of thi s trianglerested upon the farthest side of the Place, so as to blockup the Rue du Parvis ; one of i ts sides faced the Hotel.D ieu
,and the other the R ue Saint-Pierre- aux-Boeufs.
Trouillefou had placed himself at the apex, with the duke ofEgypt, our friendJehan, and the boldest of the Vagabonds.An enterprise of thi s kind was by no means uncommon
in the towns of the middle ages. Poli ce,as we under
stand the term,there was none. Neither was the re in
populous ci ties, and in capitals more parti cularly, any sole,
ran mmorm aox or NOTB E-Damm. 37 1
central, regulating power. The feudal system had cons tituted thes e large communities after a s trange fashion . Aci ty was an assemblage of a thousand seigneuries, whi chcut i t up in to compartmen ts of all forms and all dimen
sions. Hence a thousand contradictory poli ces , that is tosay
,no police at all . In Paris, for instance, independ
ently of the one hundred and forty - one seigneurs claimingmanorial rights, there were twen ty-five who claimed theright of administering justice, from the bishop of Pari s,who had five hundred streets, down to the prior of NotreDame-des-Champs
,who had four . The paramoun t au
thority of the king was but nominally recognised by allthese feudal justiciaries . Louis XL , that indefatigableworkman , who so largely commenced the demolition of thefeudal edifice
,continued by Richelieu and Louis XIV. for
the in terest of royal ty, and completed by Mi rabeau for thebenefi t o f the people Loui s XI . had certainly endea.voured to break this web of seigneuries spread out overParis
,by violently hurling against i t at random two or
three ordinances of general po li ce. Thus,in 1465, the
inhabi tants were ordered as soon as i t was dark to placelighted candles in their windows, and to shut up their dogs,upon pain of the gallows . The same year they were enj oined to bl ock the streets at night with iron chains, andforbidden to carry daggers or offensive weapons out ofdoors after dusk but
,in a short time
,al l these attempts at
municipal legislation fell into neglect. The old s tructureof feudal jurisd i ctions was left standing. Bailiwicks andseigneuries wi thout number carved out the city amongthem, crossing, j ostling, entangling themselves with, anddove- tailing into
,one another. There was an endl ess con
fus ion of watches,under-watches, and coun ter-watches, in
defiance of which robbery, plunder, and sedi tion, were carried on by main force. Amidst this disorder
,then
,i t was
no uncommon thing for a part of the rabble to make anattack upon a palace
,a mansion
,a house
,in the most
populous parts of the city. The neighbours in generalabstained from in terfering in the affair, unless the pillageextended to their own property. They shut their ears tothe firing, clo sed their shutte rs, barricaded their doors, lefl:
B B 2
THE 11 11 ! :a o or NOTRE-DAME. 373
were pronounced wi th a sort of wil d and sombre majesty .One of the Vagabonds delivered his banner to C lopin, whoso lemnly planted it between two paving- stones . I t was api tch- fork
, on the ti nes of which hung a lump of bleedingcarrion .
This done, the king of Thunes turned round and surveyed his army, a savage throng, whose eyes glistenedalmost as much as their pikes . After a moment ’s pause
,
he gave the word of onset . Forward ! my lads ! Toyour business
,blackguards was the cry of C lopin Trou
il lefou .
Thirty stout men, fellows with brawny limbs and thefaces of blacksmiths
,sprang from the ranks
,bearing sledge;
hammers,pincers
,and crowbars in their hands and on
their shoulders. They made for the great door of thechurch
,ascended the steps
,and were presently crouching
down beneath the arch, at work with their pincers andtheir levers. A crowd of the Vagabonds followed to assistor to look on . The eleven steps of the porch were throngedby them . The door, however, held firm . Devilsaid one
,i t is tough and obstinate ! i s old
,and
its j oints are stiff, said another. Courage,comrades
replied C lopin . I ’
ll wager my head against an old shoethat you will have Opened the door, taken the girl, andstripped the high al tar before there is a beadle awake.Hold
,I think the lock is giving way .
’
C lopin was interrupted at this moment by a tremendouscrash behind him . He turned round . An enormous beamhad fallen from the sky i t had crushed a dozen of theVagabonds on the steps of the church, and rebounded on
the pavemen t wi th the noise of a cannon,breaking a score
or two of legs among the crowd of beggars, who, withcries of horror
,scampered off in every direction . The
area of the Parvis was cleared in a twinkling. The blacksmiths
,though protected by the depth of the porch, aban
doned the door, and C lopin himself fell back to a respectful distance from the church . I have had a narrowescape
,cried Jehan I was in the wind of i t
,by Jove !
but Peter the Butcher i s butchered.
”
I t is impossible to describe the fright and consternationB B 3
374 THE B UNCHBACK 01? NOTRE-DAEME .
which fell with that beam upon the banditti . For someminu tes they stood staring up at the sky
,more astounded
at the piece of timber than they would have been by thearrival of twenty thousand of the king
’s archers. Thedevil exclaimed the duke of Egypt
,this does look like
magi c ! I t m ust surely be the moon that has thrownus this log, said Andry the Red . Why then
,methinks,
the moon is a good friend to our Lady, the Vi rgin,”ob
served Francois Chanteprune. Thousand popescried C lopin
,ye are a parcel of fools ! ” but still he
knew not how to accoun t for the fall of the beam .
Meanwhile nothing was to be seen on the facade, thetop of which was too high for the ligh t of the torchesto reach it. The ponderous beam lay in the middle of theParvis
,and nothing was heard save the groans of the
wretches who had been mangled by its shock upon thes teps . The first panic over
,the king o f Thunes at length
fan cied that he had made a discovery,which appeared
plausible to his companions. Ventre D ieu !”cried he,
are the canons defending themselves ? If so , sack !sack Sack sack responded the whole crew, with atremendous hurrah and a furious discharge of cross -bowsand arquebusse s was levelled at the facade of the church .
The report of the fire- arms awoke the peaceful inhabitants of the neighbouring houses sundry windows m igh tbe seen opening
,nightcaps popping out
,and hands hold
ing candles. Fire at the windows roared out C lopin .
The windows were shut in an instant,and the ' poor citi
zens, who had scarcely had time to cast a hasty and timidglance upon
“this scene of flash and tumult,returned to
perspire with frigh t by the sides of their spouses, askingthemselves whether the witches’ sabbath was now held inthe Parvis
, or whether there was another attack of theBurgundians
,as in 64. The m en were apprehensive of
robbery, the women of rape, and all trembled .
Sack ! sack repeated the men of Slang, but theydurst not advance. They looked first at the church andthen at the beam . The beam did not sti r, and the churchretained its calm and lonely air
,but something had frozen
the courage of the Vagabonds.
rm : Huncnnaox os nora s -nams . 375
To work, then, s coundrels ! cried Trou ill efou .
Force the door !” Not a soul moved a finger. Prettyfellows
,these
,
” said C lopin,who are frightened ou t of
thei r wits by a bit of wood Captain, rej oined anold smith ,
“ i t i s not the bit of wood that frightens us,
but the door is all clamped with iron bars . The pincersare of no use .
”IVhat want you then to break i t
Open ? ” enquired C lopin . We want a battering- ram .
”
Here i t is then,
” cried the king of Thunes, steppingboldly up to the formidable beam,
and setting his foot uponi t : the canons themselves have sen t you one . Thank
you, canons,” he added
,making a mock obeisan ce towards
the church .
This bravado produced the desired effect . The charmof the beam was broken picked up like a feather by twohundred vigorous arms
,i t was dashed with fury agains t
the great door,which the Vagabonds had in vain attempted
to force. In the dim light thrown by the few torchesupon the Place
,this long beam and its supporters might
have been taken for an immense beast with hundreds oflegs butting at a gian t of stone.At the shock of the beam the half-metallic door re
sounded like an immense drum : i t yielded not,but the
whole cathedral shook,and the innermost cavities of the
edifice were heard to groan . At the same instant ashower of stones began to rain upon the assailants . Helland the devil cried Jehan ; are the towers shakingtheir balus trade upon us But the impulse was giventhe king of Thunes was righ t i t was decidedly the bishopdefending his ci tadel
, and the Vagabonds only battered thedoor with the more fury, in spi te of the stones whichwere cracking skulls in all di re ctions. I t i s remarkablethat these stones fell one by one, but so closely did theyfollow each other
,that the assailants always felt two
at a time, one at their legs,the other on their heads .
There were few of them that did not tell already a largeheap of killed and wounded lay bleeding and palpitatingunder the feet of their comrades
,who
,nothing daunted,
filled up their ranks as fast as they were thinned . Thelong beam continued to batter at regul ar intervals, the
B B 4
rrm nus ca na ox os NOTB E -DAME . 377
work in silen ce to carry stones,rubbish
,gravel, and even
the bags of tools belonging to the masons, to the edge ofthe balustrade over which he had already hoisted thebeam . As soon as they commenced battering the door,the shower of stones began to fall
,and the Vagabonds
imagined that the church was tumbling about their ears.Any one who could have seen Quasimodo at that momentwould have been sei zed with dread . Besides the pro
jectiles , which he had piled upon the balustrade, he hadcarried a heap of s tones to the platform i tself ; so that assoon as the former were exhausted he might have recourseto the latter . There he was
,then
,stooping and rising,
stooping and rising again,with an acti vi ty absolutely in
conceivable . His huge head,more like that of a gnome
M g, was at times bent over the balustrade then an enormous stone would fall
,then another,
and another. From time to time,too
,he would follow a
thumping s tone with his eye ; and when i t did good execution
, he would grun t ou t, HunThe Vagabonds
,however
,were nothing daunted . More
than twenty times the massive door against which theirattack was directed had trembled under the weight of theoaken ram
, mul tiplied by the force of a hundred men .
The panels were cracked,the carving flew off in shivers,
the hinges a t every blow sprang up from thei r pivots,the
planks began to star t,and the wood was pounded to pow
der between the braces of iron : luckily for Quasimodothere was more i ron than wood. He was aware
,neverthe
less, that the door could not hold out long. Though hecould not hear i t
,yet every stroke of the ram reverberated
i n the caverns, and in the inmost recesses of the church .
From his lofty s tation he saw the assailan ts,flushed with
triumph and wi th rage,shaking their fists at the gloomy
facade, and, for his own sake, as well as for the Egyptian’s,
he cove ted the wings of the daws,which flew off in flocks
above hi s hea d . His ammunition was not effecti ve enoughto repel the assailan ts .
At this moment of anguish he remarked, a li ttle lowerdown than the balustrad e from which be crushed the menof Slang, two long gutters of stone which disgorged them
378 THE nunonnAcx or NOTRE-DAME.
selves immediately over the great door. The inner orificeof these gutters opened on the level of the platform . Anidea struck him . He ran to his bell- ringer
’
s lodge for afaggot, placed it over the hole of the two spouts, laid uponi t several bundles of laths and roll s of lead
,a kind of
ammunition to which he had not yet resorted ; and, ass oon as all was arranged
,he set fire to the faggot wi th his
lan tern.During this interval
,as the stones had ceased falling,
the Vagabonds no longer looked up and the ruffians,panting l ike dogs baY!Ug.
boarcrowded tut tifdfiElfiound th
the battering engine,but still s tanding . They awai ted,
with a thrill of impatien ce,the last grand blow, the blow
that was to shiver it in pieces . Each was striving to getnearest to the door
,that he might be first to dart into the
ri ch magazine of treasures,which had been accumulating
in the cathedral for three centuries . They roared with
joy as they reminded one another of all the beauti ful silvercrucifix es
, the rich copes of brocade, the monuments ofsilver gilt
,the magnificen ce of the choir
,the Christmases
sparkling with torches,the Easters dazzling in the sun,— all
those splendid solemni ties when shrines,chandeliers
,pyxes,
tabernacles,reliquaries
,embossed the altars wi th a crest
of gold and diamonds . Assuredly at this moment thecanters and whiners
,the limpers
,and tremblers
,and turn.
hlers, though t much less of the rescue of the Egyp tianthan of the plunder of Notre-Dame. For our own parts,we verily believe that with a great proportion of them LaEsmeralda was merely a pretext
,if,however
,robbers need
any pretext.All on a sudden
,while they were grouping themselves
for a last effort about the engine, each holding his breathand s tiffening his muscles to throw all his strength intothe decisive blow
,a howling
,more hideous than that whi ch
followed the fall of the fatal beam,burst from among them .
Those who were not yelling and yet alive looked round.Two streams of molten lead were pouring from the top ofthe building upon the thickest part of the crowd . Thissea of men had subsided beneath the boiling metal, which
'rnn HUNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 379
had made,at the points where i t fell
,two black and smok
ing holes in the rabble,such as hot water woul d make in
a snow-drift. Here the dying were writhing half calcinedand roaring wi th agony. All around these two prin cipalstreams a shower of this horrible rain was scattered overthe assailan ts
,and the drops pierced their skulls like gim
lets of fire . The clamour was horrible . The Vagabonds,throwing the beam upon the dead and dying, fled, pellmell, the bold and the timid together, and the Parvi s wascleared a second time .All eyes were rai sed to the top of the building . They
beheld a sight of an extraordinary kind . In the uppermost gallery
,above the central ro se window
,a vast body
o f flame,accompanied by showers of sparks, ascended be
.tween the two towers— a fierce and irregular flame,patches
of which were every now and then carried off by the windalong with the smoke : Below this fire
,below the sombre
balustrade, with i ts glowing red open-work ornaments ,two spouts
,in the shape o f the jaws of monsters, vomited
without cessation those silver streams,which stood ou t dis
tinctly against the dark mass of the lower facade . As
they approached the ground,those two streams spread
like water poured through the holes of the rose of awatering-pot . Above the flames the enormous towers,each showing two sides deeply contrasted
,the one quite
black the other quite red,appeared sti ll larger from the
immense shadows which they threw towards the sky .
Their numberless sculptures of devils andfigs as
sumed a doleful aspect.W f the e gaveto t hem the appearance of motion . finrggps seemed to belaughing, water- spouts yelping, salamanders
“ puffing fire,and griffins sneezing in the smoke . And among the mons tersM akened from their sleep of stone by the flamesand by the din
,there was one that moved from place to
place, and passed from time to time in fron t of the fire,like a bat before a candlA silence of terror fell upon the army of the Vagabonds,
during which might be heard the cries o f the canons shutup in their cloisters
,and more alarmed than horses in a
stable that is on fire,together with the sound of windows
rm : nunorrnacx or NOTRE-DAME . 38 1
And the sacristy too , where there are cart-loads ofgold ? ” added a rapscallion whose name we regret ourinabili ty to record .
Beard of Mahound ejacul ated Trou illefou .
Let us make one more trial, said the precedingspeaker.Again Mathias Hunyadi shook his head . We shallnot get in at the door
,that
’
s certain .
”
I shall go back,
” said C lopin . t o will comewith me ? By the by
,where is li ttle Jehan
,the student
,
who had cased himself up to the eyes in steel P”
Dead,no doubt,
”replied some one . I have not
heard his laugh for some time .”
The king of Thunes knitted hi s brow . More ’s thepity He carried a bold heart under that iron shellAnd Master Pierre Gringoire
,what is become of him
Captain C lopin,
” said Andry the Red,he sneaked
off as soon as we had reached the Pont- aux-Changeurs.”
Clopin stamped .
’Sdeath the coward ! To urge usinto this affair and then leave us in the lurch
Captain ,” cried Andry the Red
,who was looking down
the Rue du Parv i s, yonder comes the li ttle scholar .Thanks be to Pluto !
” rej oined Clopin . But whatthe devil is he dragging after himI t was actually Jehan
,who was advancing as expedi
tiou sly as he could for his heavy warlike accoutrementsand a long ladder which , with the aid of half- a- dozen ofthe gang, he was trailing along the pavement, more out ofbreath than a pismire dragging a blade of grass twenty timesas long as i tself.Victo ry TeDeum shouted the scholar.
C lopin went up to him . What, i n the devil’
s name,are you going at with that ladder ? ”
I have got i t,
” replied Jehan,panting and blowing.
I knew where i t was kept under the shed belonging tothe lieutenan t
’
s house . I am acquainted with one of themaids there, who thinks me a perfect Cupid . The poorgirl came down half-naked to let me in and here is theladder.”
382 THE HUNOHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
I see, said Clopin“but what are you
.
going to dowi th it R
”
Jehan eyed him with a look of spite and importance,and snapped his fingers like cas tagnettes. At that momenthe was really sublime . His head was cased in one of thosesurcharged helmets of the fifteenth century
,which daunted
the enemy by their fantastic appendages. His was bestudded with ten iron beaks, so that he migh t have dis
pu ted the formidable epithet Benefagohog with Nestor’s Ho
meric ship .
What am I going to do with i t,august king of
Thunes ? Do you see tha t row of s tatues,which look so
like idiots,there
,above the three porches
Yes,what then
That is the gallery of the kings of France .And what of that ? said Clopin.Just listen . At the end of that gallery there is a door,
which i s always on the latch . With thi s ladder I willmount to i t, and then I am in the church .
”
Let me go up first, boy .”
No, no, comrade . I brought the ladder. Y ou shallbe second
,i f you will .
May Beelzebub strangle thee ! cried Clopin, peevishly. I will not be second to any man .
”
Then, my dear fellow, seek a ladder for yourself.Jehan started again
,dragging his ladder along and
shouting,
This 'way, my ladsI n an instant the ladder was raised and placed agains t
the balustrade of the lower gallery,above one of the side
doors,amidst loud acclamations from the crowd of the
Vagabonds,who thronged to the foot of i t to ascend.
Jehan maintained his right to go up first. The gallery ofthe kings of France is at this present time about sixty fee tabo ve the pavement. The eleven steps up to the porchin creased the height. Jehan mounted slowly
,being im
peded by his heavy armour, laying hold of the ladder withone hand, and having his arbales t in the other. When hewas about half-way up he cast a melan choly look at thedead bodies that covered the steps and the pavement. Bymy fay
,
”said he,
“a heap of carcasses that wouldnot disgrace
'rnn HUNOHBAOK os nornnm a ns . 3 83
the fifth book of the I liad . He then con tinued to ascend,followed by the Vagabonds . Had you seen this line of
cuirass ed backs undulating in the dark, you would havetaken i t for an immense serpent wi th iron scales raisingi tself against the church .
The schola r at length touched the balcony and nimblyleaped upon it. He was gree ted by a general shout fromthe whole gang. Thus mas ter of the citadel he j oined inthe hurrahs
,but all at once he was struck dumb wi th
horror. He perceived Quasimodo crouching in the darkbehind one of the royal statues and his ‘eye flashing fire.Be fore a second of the besiegers could set foot on the
gallery, the formidable hunchback sprang to the top of theladder
,and
,without uttering a word, caught hold of the two
si des with his nervous hands,and pushed them from the
wall with supe rhuman force . The long ladder, bendingunder the load of the escalading party, whose piercingshrieks rent the air, stood upright for a moment, and seemedto hesitate then
,all at on ce taking a tremendous lurch
,i t
fell with its load of banditti more swiftly than a drawbridgewhen the chains that held i t have broken . An immenseimprecation ensued presently all was silen t
,and here and
there a mangled wretch crawled forth from beneath the
heap of the dead . Quasimodo, leaning wi th his two el
bows upon the balustrade, looked quietly on.
Jehan Frollo found himself in a cri tical situation . Se
parated from his comrades by a perpendicular wall of eightyfee t, he was alone in the gallery with the formidable bell.ringer. While Quasimodo was playing wi th the ladder
,
the scholar had run to the postern, which he expected tofind upon the latch . He was di sappoin ted.A b edwarfhad locked it after him when he went down to the gaHFrfJehan then hid himself behind one of the stone kings
,hold
ing his brea th, and eyeing the monstrous hunchback wi tha look of horror
,like the man who
,having scraped acquain t-t
ance with the wife of a keeper of wild beas ts, went onenight in pursuance of an assignation, and, climbing overthe wrong wall , found himself all at on ce face to face wi tha prodigious _ yvhite bear. For some momen ts he was not
TE E mmonnacx or R om s -Dan s . 3 85
A cry of horror burst from the Vagabonds R e
venge shouted Clopin. Sack ! sack res ponded themulti tude. Storm ! s torm ! Then followed prodigiousyell s
,in termingled with all languages
,all dialects
,all ac
cents. The death of poor Jehan kindled a fury in thecrowd . They were filled wi th shame and indignation athaving been so long held in check before a church by ahunchback. Rage found ladders and multiplied the torchesand
,in a few moments
,Quasimodo beheld with conster
nation a fearful rabble mounting on all sides to the assaulto f Notre-Dame. Some had ladders, others knotted ropes,while such as could not procure ei ther scrambled up by theaid of the scul ptures, holding by each other
’
s rags . Therewere no means of withstanding this rising tide of grim faces
,
to which rage gave a look of twofold feroci ty. The per.spiration trickled down their begrimed brows ; their eyesflashed all these hideous figures were now closing in uponQuasimodo . Y ou would have imagined that some otherchurch had sent i ts gorgons, i ts de
'
ts dragop s, i tsmost fan tas tic monsters,to the assaul
n
fo
dl
f
a’
lzlbt‘
rE Dame .
Meanwhil e,the Place was illumined wi th a thousand
torches. A flood of light suddenly burst upon the sceneof confusion
,which had ti ll then been buried in darkness .
The fire kindled on the pl atform was stil l burning, and
i llumined the city to a considerable di stance. The enormousoutline of the two towers
,projected afar upon the roofs
of the houses,formed a large patch of shadow amidst all
this light. The city seem ed to be in a bustle . Di stan talarm-bells were proclaiming that there was somethingamiss. The Vagabonds were shouting
,yelling
,swearing
,
climbing ; and Quasimodo, powerless against such a hosto f enemies, shuddering for the Egyptian, seeing so manyferocious faces approaching nearer and nearer to the gallery, prayed to Heaven for a miracle, at the same timewringing his hands in despair.
386 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME.
CHAPTER V .
THE R ETR EAT W HERE mowe UR LOUI S OF FRANCE s'
AY s
m s PRAYERS.
THE reader has , perhaps, not forgotten that Quasimodo,the moment before he perceived the nocturnal band of
the Vagabonds, while surveying Paris from the top of histower
,had discovered but a single light, which illumined a
window in the uppermost floor of a lofty and glb omybuilding by the gate of St. Antoine . This building wasthe Bastille. That light was the candle of Louis XI .The king had actually been for two days past in Paris .
He was to leave i t again on the day after the morrow forhis fortress of MontilzJez -Tours . His visits to his goodci ty of Pari s were rare and short ; for there he felt thathe had not trap- doors, gibbets, and Scottish archers enoughabout him.
He had come that day to sleep in the Bastille. He
disliked the great chamber whi ch he had at the Louvre,five fathoms square
,with its great chimney-piece
,adorned
wi th twelve great beasts and thirteen great prophets, andi ts great bed, twelve feet by eleven . He was lost amidst allthis grandeur . This burgher king gave the prefere nce tothe Bastille, with an humble chamber and sui table bed.Besides
,the Bas tille was stronger than the Louvre.
This chambe r, whi ch the king had reserved for himselfin the famous state-prison
,was spacious, and occupied the
topmost floor of a turret in the keep. I t was an apartmen tof circular form , the floor covered wi th shining strawm atting ; the rafters of the ceiling adorned with fleursde- lis of pewter gilt, the spaces between them coloured ;wainscoted wi th rich woods, sprinkled wi th rosettes oftin
,painted a fine li vely green composed of orpine and
woad.There was but one long and pointed window, latticed
wi th brass wire and iron bars, and somewhat darkened
TE E HUNCHBACK’
or NOTRE-DAME. 387
b esides by beautiful stained glass, exhibiting the arms ofthe king and those of the queen
,each pane of which co st
twenty- two sous .There was but one en trance, a modern door, with el
l iptic arch, covered on the inside wi th cloth, and havingwithout one of those porches o f Irish wood, frail structureso f curious workmanship, which were still very common ino ld buildings one hundred and fifty years ago . Thoughthey disfigure and encumber the places , says Sauval
,
peevishly , ye t will not our ancien t folk put them away,
but they preserve them in spi te of every one .In this chamber was to be seen none of the furni ture
o f ordinary apartments , neither tables upon trestles , nor
benches,nor forms
,nor common stools, in the shape of a
bo x , nor those of a better sort, standing upon pillars andcounter-pillars, at four sous apiece. Nothing was to beseen there
,save a very magnificent folding arm- chair : the
wood-work was adorned with rose s painted on a redground and the seat was of scarlet Spanish leather, garnished with silk fringe, and studded with a thousand goldennails . This soli tary chair indicated that one person onlyhad a right to si t down in that apartm ent. Near the chairand close to the window was a table covered wi th a clothon which were the figures of birds . On this table werea portfolio spotted with ink, sundry parchments, pens,and a chased silver mug. At a little distance
,stood a cha
fing dish, and a desk for the purpose of prayer, coveredwith crimson velvet embossed with studs of gold . Lastly
,
at the farthest part of the room there was a simple bed, o f
yellow and flesh- coloured damask,without lace or any
trimming but plain fringe. This bed,famed for having
wi tnessed the sleep or the sleeplessness of Loui s XL,was to
be seen two hundred years ago in the house of a councillorof state .Such was the chamber commonly called
,The retreat
where Monsieur Louis of France said his prayers .”
At the moment of our ushering the reader into this re
treat, it was very dark . An hour had elapsed since thetolling of the curfew i t was night
,and there was only one
c an 2
THE nuncnnacx on NOTRE- DAME . 3 89
Gringoire’
s mystery would have recognised in them two
o f the principal Flemish envoys, Guillaume Rym,the sa
gaciou s pens ionary of Ghent, and Jae ues Co ole, thepopular hosier. I t will be recollected that these two persons were mixed up with the secret poli tics of Louis XI .Lastly
,at the opposite end of the room, near the door,
i n the dark,stood, motionless as a statue, a short thick- set
man,in mili tary attire, with coat of arms embroidered on
the breast,whose square face without brow
,eyes on a level
with the top of the head, and ears hidden by two largepenthouses of straight hair
,partook at once of the dog
’
sand the tiger
’
s .All were uncovered ex cepting the king.
The nobleman standing near the king was reading tohim a long memori al
,to which his maj esty seemed to li sten
attentively . The two Flemings were whispering together.By the rood muttered Coppenole, I am tired of
standing. Are no chairs allowed hereRym answered by a shake of the head, accompanied by
a di screet smile.God
’
s cross resumed Coppenole, who was qui temiserable to be obliged to speak in so low a tone, I havea good m ind to clap myself down on the floor, as I mightdo at home .
Nay, Master Jacques, prithee do no such thing .
Hey-day, Master Guillaume ! must one keep on one'
slegs all the while one is here
,then
Even'
so, or on your knees,”replied Rym .
At that moment the king raised his voi ce . They weresilen t.Fifty sous the gowns of our serving-men
,and twelve
li vres the cloaks of the clerks of our crown ! Why,
’tisthrowing gold away by tons Are you distraught, OlivierAs he thus spoke the old king raised his head . About his
neck might then be seen glis tening the golden balls of thecollar of St! Michael. The rays of the candle fell fullupon his skinny and morose face. He snatched the paperfrom the hands of the reader.
Y ou will ruin us ! ” he cried,running his hollow eye
over i t. Whatmeans all this ? what need have we for such0 c 3
390 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
a prodigious establishment Two chaplains,at the rate of
ten livres each per mon th,and a clerk of the chapel at one
hundred sous A valet-de- chambre,at ninety livres by the
year ! Four esquires of the kitchen,at six score livres by the
year,each An overseer of the roast, another of the vege
tables, another of the sauces,a head- cook, a butler, and
two assistants,at ten livres each per month ! Two scul
lions at eight livres A groom and his two helpers attwenty- four livres the month A porter
,a pastry—cook,
”
a
baker, two carters, at sixty livres by the year each Andthe marshal of the forges
,six score livres And the
master of the chamber of our exchequer,twelve hundred
li vres And the comptroller,five hundred And I know
not how many more ’
T i s enough to drive one mad ! Topay the wages of our servants France i s plundered. Allthe ingots in the Louvre will melt away before such a fireof expense ! we will sell our plate ! And next year, i fGod and our Lady [here he lifted his hat] grant us life,we will take our diet-drink ou t of a pewter pot.”
As he thus spoke,he cast a look at the silver mug which
glis tened upon the table. He coughed, and then proceededMaster Olivier
,the princes who rule over great coun tries,
such as kings and emperors,ought never to suffer habits of
expense to creep into their households ; for that fire run sfarther and catches the provin ces . Give me not occasionto repeat thi s
,Master Olivier. Our expenditure increases
every year. The thing likes us not. Why, P asque-D ieu !till 79 i t never exceeded thirty- six thousand livres in 80
it amoun ted to forty- three thousand six hundred and nineteen livres I have the exact sum in my head — in 8 1 ,
to sixty- six thousand six hundred and eighty ; and thi syear, by the faith of my body, i t will not be under eightythousand ! Doubled in four years ! monstrous !
”
He paused to take breath,and then began again with
warmth : I see about me none but people who fatten uponmy leanness. Ye suck crowns out of me at every poreAll present maintained profound silen ce . I t was one of
those paroxysms which must be left to themselves . HecontinuedI t is like that petition in Latin from the nobles of
T E E HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAM& 391
Fran ce,that we would re. establish what they call the great
charges of the crown ! Charges,in good sooth ! crushing
charges Ah,gentlemen ! ye say that we are not a king to
reign dap zf ero nullo, buticulario nu llo We will show you,P asque -D ieu whether we are not a kingHere he smiled in the feeling of his power : his wrath
was softened, and he turned towards the Flemings.Look you, Compare Guillaume, the grand master of the
pantry,the grand chamberlain , the grand seneschal, are of
less use than the meanest serving—man . Remember that,Compére COppenole ! They are good for nothing. Suchuseless attendants on a king are very like the four evan
gelis ts about the dial of the great clock of the Palace, whichPhilip Bri lle has lately beautified . They are gilt, but theymark no t the hour, and the hand can go without them .
For a moment he appeared thoughtful, and then, shakinghis old head, he added No, no, by Our Lady, I am notPhilip Brille
,and I will not new-gild the grand vassals.
Go on,Olivier.” The person to whom he spoke took up
the paper,and began reading again with a loud voi ce
To Adam Tenon,clerk to the keeper of the seals of
the provosty of Paris,for silver
,making and engraving
said seals,which have been new made, because the former
could no longer be used,by reason o f their being old and
worn out twelve livres parisis.To Guillaume Frere, the sum of four livres four sons
parisis, as his salary and wages for feeding the pigeons inthe two dovecotes of the hotel des Tournelles, in the mon thso f January, February, and March of this present year ;and for thi s there have been gi ven seven qua rters of
barley .To a Gray Friar, for confessing a criminal, four sons
parisis .”
The king lis tened in silen ce . He coughed from time totime ; he would then lift the mug to his lips and swallowa mouthful , at the same time making a wry face .In this year there have been made by order of justi ce,
by sound of trumpet,in the publi c places of Paris
,fifty- six
proclamations The accompt to be settled .
For having made quest and search in cer tain places,
0 o 4
THE HUNCHBACK on NOI‘RE-DAME. 393
months in the lodge of the slaughter-house, till i t i s settledwhat to do with him six livres four sons .
What is that ?"said the king feed what ought to
hang Pasque-Dieu .' not another son will I give for that
feed Olivier, settle that business with Monsieur d’
E s tou
tevill e, and this very nigh t make me the needful preparation for wedding this gallan t with the gallows . Go on.
”
Olivier made a mark with his thumb-nail against thellasti tem
,and proceeded
“To Henriet Cousin,master executioner of Paris, the
sum of sixty sous parisis, to him adjudged and ordered bymonseig neur the provost of Paris
,for that he did buy, at
the command of the said sieur the provost, a great swordfor executing and beheading persons condemned by justicefor their misdeeds, and did provide a sheath and all thereunto appertaining
,and likewise did get the old sword
ground and repaired, by reason that i t was broken andnotched in doing jus tice upon Mess ire Louis of Luxembourg,as may more ful ly appearThe king interrupted the reader. That is enough I
order that sum with all my heart. Those are expenseswhich I think not of. I never grudge moneys so laid ou t.Go on.
”
For new-making a great cageAh said the king, grasping the arms of his chair
wi th both hands, I knew that I had come to this Bastillefor something st0p, Mas ter O li vier, I will look at thatcage myself. You shall read the i tems
,while I examine i t .
Gentlemen of Flanders, come and look at it’t is a
curious thing .
He then rose,lean t upon the arm of the reader, motioned
to the kind of mute standing before the door to precedehim
, to the two Flemings to follow, and left the chamber.The royal party was reinforced at the door of the retreat
by men-at-arms encumbe red with iron, and slender pagesbearing torches. I t pursued its way for some time throughthe interior of the sombre keep
,perforated with staircases
and corridors even into the substance of the walls . Thecap ta in of the Bastille went first,
‘
to get the wickets opened
394 THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME .
for the old king, who, bent with age and infirmity, coughedas he walked along.At each wicket every head was obliged to stoop except
ing that of the old monarch . Hum muttered he between his gums for he had lost all his teeth we areal ready not far from the door o f the tomb. At a low doorthe passenger must st00p .
”
At length, having passed the last wicket, so in cumberedwi th locks and fastenings that i t took nearly a quarter ofan hour to Open i t
,they entered a lofty and spacious hall,
in the middle of which was discovered,by the light of the
torches, a massive cube of masonry, iron, and timber. Theinterior was hollow. I t was one of those famous cages forpri soners of sta te which were called the king’s daughters.
”
I n the sides of i t were two or three small windows, soclosely latti ced wi th thi ck i ron bars that the glass could notbe seen . The door was a large stone slab
,like those which
are laid upon graves ; one of those doors which are neverused but to enter : only in this case the buried person wasyet living.
The king began to walk slowly round the little edifice,examining it with care
,while Master Olivier
,who followed
him,read aloud to this effect : For having new-made a
great wooden cage of thi ck j oists, girders, and planks,being nine feet long by eight wide
,and seven feet from
floor to ceiling,planed and clamped with strong iron clamps,
the which hath been set in a chamber si tuate in one of thetowers of the Bastide St. Antoine, in the whi ch cage is putand kept, by command of our lord the king, a pri soner whoaforetime dwelt in a cage that was old
,crazy, and decayed.
- There were used for the said new cage ninety—six joists,fifty- two uprights
,ten girders
,three fathoms in length ;
and there were employed nineteen carpenters, in squaring,cutting, and working all said timber in the court of theBastide for twenty days
Capi tal heart of oak said the king,rapping the wood
with his knuckle.There were used for thi s cage, continued the reader,
two hundred and twenty thick iron clamps, of nine andeight feet
,the rest of middling length, with the screws,
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 395
nuts,and bands to the said clamps the whole of the said
iron weighing three thousand seven hundred and thirty-fivepounds ; besides eight stou t holdfasts to fasten the saidcage
,with the nails
,weighing together two hundred and
eighteen pounds ; without reckoning the iron grating to
the windows of the chamber in which the cage is placed,the i ron doors of that chamber, and other things .A great deal of iron
,
"said the king
,to repres s the
Ievi ty of one mind !The whole amounts to three hundred seventeen livres
five sous seven deniers .”
Puma s-Dim ! exclaimed the king. At this imprecation, which was the favouri te oath of Louis XL, someperson appeared to rouse up within the cage . Chains wereheard trailing upon the floor
,and a fain t voi ce, which
seemed to issue from a tomb,cried
,Mercy, sire mercy
The person who thus spoke could not be seen .Three hundred seventeen livres five sous seven de
niers repea ted Louis XI .The lamentable voi ce which i ssued from the cage had
thri lled all present,including Master Olivier himself. The
king alone appeared no t to have heard it. At his command,Master Olivier began reading again
,and his majesty coolly
continued his examination of the cage .Besides the above
,there has been paid to a mason who
made the holes to receive the bars of the windows, and thefloor of the chamber where the cage is
,because the floor
could not have borne this cage by reason of i ts weighttwenty- seven livres fourte en sous parisis .
”
The voice again began moaning. Mercy,for heaven
’
ssake, sire — I assure your majesty that i t was the Cardinalof Angers who did the treason
,and not I
The mason i s high,
” said the king. Proceed,Oli
V ier.Olivier continuedTo a joiner for windows
,beds tead, and other th ings
twenty livres two sous parisis.The voice likewise con tinued : Alas ! sire ! will you
not hear me ? I protest that i t was not I who wrote thatthing to Monseigneur de Guyenne, but Cardinal Balue
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 397
Sire sire cried he in tones of despair . The door shut.He saw nothing
,he heard nothing save the husky voice of
the gaoler chanting a stanza of a song of that day on thesubject of his own misfortunes,
Maitre Jean BalueA perdu la vueDe ses évéchés .
M onsieur de VerdunN
’
en a plus pas um,Tous sont dépéchés .
The king returned in silence to his retreat,followed by
his train,who were thrilled by the last heart- rending wail
ings of the prisoner. His majesty turned abruptly towardsthe governor of the Bastille . By the by,
"said he
,was
there not some one in that cage ?
In good sooth, si re, there was, replied the governor,astonished at the question .Who
,then ?
The bishop of Verdun .
The king knew that better than any body else. Butthis was his way .
Ah !” said he, as naturally as if he had but just thoughtof i t ; Guillaume de Haraucourt, a friend of Monsieurthe Cardinal Balue
'
s . A good fellow of a bishopThe door of the retreat presently opened
,and again
closed upon the five personages to whom the reader wasintroduced at the beginning of this chapter
,a nd who re
sumed their places,their whi spering conversation
,and their
atti tudes .During the king
'
s absence,several dispatches had been
laid upon hi s table. He broke the seal s of them himself,
and hastil y ran over one after another. He then made asign to Master Olivier
,who appeared to perform the office
of minister, to take a pen, and, without communicating tohim the contents of the di spatches
,began in a low tone to
dictate hi s answers,which Olivier wrote kneeling very in
commodiously at the table .Guillaume Rym watched him closely. The king spoke
so low that the Flemings coul d catch no more than a few
398 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
detached and scarcely intelligible fragments of his dictation,
such as : To maintain the fertile places by commerce,
the barren by manufactures . To show theEngli sh lordsour four pieces of ordnance, the London, the Braban t, theBourg- em Bresse, and the St. Omer.
” The artillerycauses war to be now carried on more judiciously .
" Toour friend, Monsieur Bressuire .
”Armies cannot be
kept without taxesBy and by he raised his voice. P asqua-Dz
'
eu Monsieur the king of Sicily seals his letters with yell ow wax
,
l ike a king of France. Perhaps we are wrong to permitthis . The greatness of houses is assu red by the integri tyof their prerogatives . Note this, Compere Olivier.
”
Presently,Oho ! said he, “the big message ! What
would our brother the emperor ? Running his eye overthe missive
,he ever and anon interrupted his reading by
interj ections Certes,the Allm ains are so great and so
mighty that’
ti s scarcely credible .” But we forget theold saying the finest county is Flanders the finest duchy
,
Milan the finest kingdom,France . I s i t not so
,my
Flemish friends ?
This time Coppenole bowed as well as Rym . Thepatrioti sm of the hosier was tickled .
The last dispatch made Monsieur Louis knit his brow.
What i s this ? ” he exclaimed . Grievances and complaints agains t our garrisons in Picardy ! O livier, writeforthwith
'
to Monsieur the Marshal de R oual t that discipline i s relaxed that the gendarm es of the guard
,the
nobles of the ban,the yeomem archers, the
'
Switz ers, doinfinite mischief to our lieges that the soldier
,not con
tent wi th the provisions which he finds in the houses ofthe farmers
,drives them out wi th grievous blows of sti cks
and staves to the ci ty in quest of wine,fi sh
,groceries, and
other luxurious things that Monsieur the king is ac
quainted with these proceedings that i t i s our intentionto protect our people from molestation
,robbery
,and plunder
- that i t i s our will, by Our Lady that,moreover, i t
pleaseth u s not that any musician, chirurgeon, or man -at
arms shall be attired like a prince in velvet,silks
,and rings
of gold that these vanities are hateful to God that we
THE HUNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME . 399
ourselves,who are a gentleman, are con ten t wi th a double t
of cloth at sixteen sous the Paris ell that Messieurs thesoldiers’ boys may even come down to that pri ce tooOrder and command To Monsieur de R oual t, our friend— Right !This letter he dicta ted al oud, in a fi rm tone, and by fi ts
and starts. At the moment when he had finished,the
door opened,and a personage whose look bespoke vehe
ment terror rushed into the chamber, crying Sire sirethere is a sedition of the populace in Paris !The stem features of Monsieur Louis were contracted
but all the visible signs o f his emotion passed away likelightning. He restrained himself, and observed withcalm austerity : Compére Jacques, you come in ratherabruptlySire ! sire the mob is in rebellion replied Compere
Jacques,breathless with haste and alarm .
The king,who had risen
,se i zed him roughly by the
arm,and whispered so as to be heard by him alone
,with
concentrated anger and a sidelong glance at the FlemingsBe silen t, or speak lowThe new-comer comprehended his meaning, and began
in a low tone as coherent a narrati ve as his fears wouldpermit. The king listened with composure
,while Guil
laume Rym directed the atten tion of Coppenole to the faceand the dress of the speaker
,to his furred hood
,his short
cloak,and his black velvet gown, which bespoke a p1 esident
of the Court of Accompts .No sooner had this personage communicated a few par
ticulars to the king,than Monsieur Lou is burst in to a loud
laugh, exclaiming I s that all ? Speak up, Cmnpére
Coictier Be not afraid to open your mouth Our Ladyknows that I have no secrets from our good friends of
Flanders .But, sireSpeak up, I tell you , man !
Compare Coictier was dumbfounded .
Come resumed the king speak, sir there i sa riot of the rabble in our good city of Paris ?Yes
,sire.
”
TE E HUNCHBACK or NornE -DAME. 401
With scythes,pikes
,spades, arquebusses all sorts
of very dangerous weapons .The king appeared not at all uneasy at this recapitu la
tion . Cmnpére Jacques deemed i t his duty to add I fyour maj es ty send not prompt succour to the bail iff, he islostWe will send , said the king, with a look of affected
gravity. ’ Tis well . Certes,we will send . Monsieur
the bailiff is our friend. Six thousand ! They are saucyrascals . Their boldness i s marvellous
,and hath sorely
offended us . But we have few people about us to-night.I t will be time enough in the morning.
”
Instan tly, sire !”exclaimed Compére Jacques, or
they will have leisure to plunder the bailiff’
s house, to pulldown the seigneurie, and to hang the bailiff twenty timesover. For the love of God, sire, send before morningThe king looked him full in the face : I tell you ,
in the morning.
” I t was one of those looks to whichthere is no replying.For some moments Louis was silent. Tell me, Compére
Jacques,
” he again began for you must know whatwas — he corrected himself what i s the feudalj urisdic tion of the bailiff
Sire,the bailiff of the Palace has the Rue de la Ca
landre,as far as the Rue de l ’Herberie
,the Place St.
Mi chel , and the Places vulgarly called the Mureaux,si tuate near the church of Notre-Dame-des-Champs
,
"
here the king lifted the brim of his hat which hotelsare thirteen in number ; also the Cour des Miracl es, thelazar-house called la Banlieue, and the whole line of causeway commencing at this laza r-house and ending at thegate of St. Jacques . Of all these parts he i s the liegelord, with the right of administering high, middle, and
low j usti ce .Hey-day !
”said the king, rubbing the side of his
nose wi th his fore-finger,’ t i s a good shce of my fair
city . So Monsieur the bailiff was king of all that !He asked no more questions
,but remained absorbed
in thought, and talking to h imself. Very fine,Mon
D D
402 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
sieur the bailiff ! you had there between your teeth a ni cep iece of our ParisAll at once he burst forth P ra gue—Dian what
m ean those men who pretend to be liege- lords, judges,and masters here ? who have their toll-bar at the end ofevery field ? their gibbet and their hangman at everycross- street among our people ? So that
,like the Greek
,
who believed in as many gods as there were fountains,and
the Persian,as he saw stars
,the French have as many kings
as they see gibbets . Egad ! this i s a frightful state of
things . I like not the confus ion . I would fain know ifi t be by the grace of God that there is at Paris any otherliege—lord besides the king, any other justice besides ourparliament, any other emperor besides ourselves in thisempire. By the fai th of my soul, there must come a daywhen there shall be in France but one king
,one li ege- lord
,
one j udge, one headsman, as in Paradise there is but oneGodAgain he lifted his hat
,and
,sti ll musing
,continued
wi th the look and accent of a huntsman letting s lip a nd
urging on his dogs Good my people well 'doneDown with these false lords ! On them on them Sack
,
plunder,hang You would fain be kings, Messeigneur s,
would youHere he stopped short
,bit his lips
,as if to catch the
thought which had half escaped him,
fixed his piercingeye on each of the five personages around him in succession
,
and, suddenly seizing his hat with both hands, and lookingstedfastly at i t, he exclaimed Oh ! I woul d burn thee,i f thou knewest what there is in my head !
”
Then casting his eyes again around him,with the
keen and restless look of a fox slily returning to his denI t matters not : we will send succours to Monsieur thebailiff . Unluckily we have but few tr00ps here at thismomen t against such a mob . We must wai t ti ll morning .
Order shall be restored in the ci ty,and they shall hang
ou t of the way all who are taken .
”
By the by,sire
,said Comp e
‘
re Coictier,
I forgoti n my first alarm
,the watch has taken two s tragglers of
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 403
the hand. If your maj esty pleases to see them,they are
below.
”
IVill I see them ? cried the king. P asqua D ieu .’
how coulds t thou forget that ! Run qui ck,Olivier
,and
fetch themMaster Olivier left the room, and presently returned with
the two prisoners surrounded by archers of the ordnance .The first had a bloated face and stupid, idiot- like, drunkenlook. He was dressed in rags
,and, in walking, he bent his
knees and shuffled his feet. With the pale and smilingcountenance of the other the reader is already familiar.The king scrutinised them for a moment wi thout say
ing a word,and then abruptly asked the first What is
thy nameGiefi
'
roy Pincebourde.
Thy professionA Vagabond.
”
IVhat wert thou going to do in that damnable seditionThe varlet stared at the king, swinging his arms with a
besotted look . His was one of those mi s- shapen heads,in
which the understanding i s almost as much cramped as alight beneath an extinguisher.
I know not,
” said he. The others went ; so I wen talong.
Were ye not bound to atta ck with violence and toplunder your liege- lord the bailiff of the Palace ?
I know that we were going to take something fromsomebody that is allA soldier brought to the king a hedging-bill whi ch had
been found upon the prisoner.Ownest thou that weapon enquired the king.Yes ;
’
tis my bill : I am a vine-dresser.Knowest thou this man poin ting to the other pri
soner was he one of thy companions ?"
No : I know him not.’
Tis enough,
” said the king ; and, beckoning to thesilen t personage stationed near the door, Compere Tristan,
”said he, there i s a man for you.
”
Tristan the Hermi t bowed . He gave some directi ons inD D 2
THE HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME . 405
hones t man, who would be more puzzled to kindl e a sedition than an icicle to gi ve out a spark. Most gracioussovereign, clemency is a kingly virtue whils t severi ty onlyexasperates the minds of men . The fierce blasts of thenorth cannot make the traveller throw off his cloak ; thesun
,gradually pouring forth his rays, warms him to such a
degree that he is glad to strip himself to his shirt. Iavouch to you, my sovereign lord and master, that I amnot of the Vagabond crew
,a thief
,or a disorderly person .
Sedition and robbery belong not to the train of Apoll o . Iam not a man to rush into those clouds which burst inthunders of insurrection . I am a faithful liege
'
of yourmajesty. The same j ealousy which a husband has for thehonour of his wife, the love which a son feels in return forthe affection of a father
,a good subject ought to have for
the glory of his king he ought to burn with zeal for hisperson
,his house, his prosperi ty, to the exclusion of every
o ther passion . Such,sire
,is my politi cal creed . Judge
me not,then, from this coat out at elbows, to be an aecom
plice in sedition and plunder. Pardon me,sire
,and on
my knees will I pray to God,night and morning, for you .
I am not very rich,i t i s true : indeed I am rather poor
,
but not vicious for all that. I t is not my fault. Everyone knows that great wealth is not to be gained by letters,and that the most learned have not always the largest firein winter. The lawyers run away with all the grain
,and
leave noth ing but the straw for the other scientific profession s . I could repeat to you forty excellent proverbs onthe ragged cloak of the philosopher. Oh
,sire clemency
i s the only light that can illumine the interior of a greatsoul . Clemency bears the torch before all the other virtues .Without it they are blind
,and grope about in the dark for
God . Mercy,which is the same thing as clemency, pro
duces love in subjects,which is the most effective guard
for the person of the prince. What harm can it do to yourmaj es ty, who dazzles al l eyes, that there is one po or manmore upon the earth one poor innocen t philosopher
,
floundering in the darkness of calami ty, with empty pocketand empty s tomach Besides
,sire
,I am one of the learned .
Great kings add a pearl to their crown by protec ting lettersD D 3
406 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
Hercules disdained not the title of Musaget'
es ; MatthiasCorvinus patronised Jean de M onroyal, the ornament ofthe mathematics . Now i t is a bad way o f patronisingletters to hang those who cultivate them . What a stainupon Alexander
,if he had hanged Aristotle ! That trai t
would not be a spot on the face of his reputation heightening its beauty, but a foul ulcer disfiguring it. Sire, I havecomposed a most pertinent epithalamium for Mademoiselleof Flanders and Mon seigneur the most august Dauphin .That i s not a brand of rebellion . Your maj esty perceivesthat I am not an ignorant varlet
,that I have studied
deeply, and that I have great natural eloquence. Havem ercy then, sire In so doing you will perform an act ofgallan try to Our Lady and I protest to you that I have astrong dislike to the idea of being hanged ! ”
As he thus spoke the discon solate Gringoire kissed theking
’
s slippers,and Guillaume Rym whi spered Coppenole
He does right to crawl the floor. Kings are like theCretan Jupiter they have no ears but in their feet. Thehosier, without bestowing a thought on the Cretan Jupipiter
,replied with a grim smile
,and his eye fixed on
Gringoire Capital,by the rood Methinks I hear the
Chan cellor Hugonet begging his life of me !”
When Gringoire at length ceased,ou t of breath with his
harangue,he lifted his eyes
,trembling
,towards the king ,
who was scratching with his nail a spot on the knee of hisbreeches : his majesty then sipped at his drink . He u ttered not a word
,however and this silen ce kept Gringoire
on the rack . At length the king fix ed his eye upon him .
I'Vhat an eternal prater ! said he . Then turning toTristan the Hermit Bah let the varlet goGringoire fell backward
,overpowered with j oy .
Let him go ! ” grumbled Tristan . Will i t notplease your majesty to have him shut up awhile in aca e ?g“ Campers, rejoined Louis XI dost think i t is for
such birds that we make cages costing three hundredsixty- seven livres eigh t sous three deniers ? D ismissme in continently this paillard
,Monsieur LLouis was
fond of this term,which
,with Pasqua-Dieu, constituted
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 407
the whole stock of his j oculari ty, and turn him out
wi th a sound drubbing.
”
Ah ! ” ej aculated Gringoire, what a magnanimousking ! ” and, for fear of a counter- order, he hastened to
ward the door,which Tristan opened for him with a very
ill grace. The soldiers went out with him, driving himbefore them with kicks and thumps
,which Pierre bore like
a genuine stoic.The good-humour of the king
,ever since he had been
informed of the insurrection agains t the baili ff,mani
fested i tself in all he did . This unusual clemen cy was noslight sign of i t . Tristan the Hermit looked as surly inhis corner as a dog when you have shown him a bone andtaken i t away again .
The king, meanwhile, was playfully drumming the
march of Pont-Audemer with his fingers on the arm of his
chair . This prince was a dissembler, but he could concealhi s troubles much better than his j oy. These externalmanifestations of delight at any agreeable tidings weresometimes carried to a great length ; as at the death ofCharles the Bold
,when he vowed to presen t a silver ba
lus trade to St . Martin of Tours and at his accession tothe throne
,when he forgot to give directions for the fu
neral of his father.Eh
,sire suddenly exclaimed Jacques Coictier,
what i s become of the acute fi t of illness for whi chyour majesty commanded my services ?
Oh ! ” said the king, I am really in great pain,
compEre. I have a ringing in my ears, and rakes of fireare harrowing my breast.”
Coictier took the hand of the king,and felt his pul se
wi th a most self—su fficient look .
See,Coppenole,
”said Rym, in a low tone, there he
i s between Coictier and Tristan . These are his wholecourt. A physician for himsel f
,a hangman for all be
sides .Whil s t feeling the king’s pul se
, Coictier assumed a look ofmore and more alarm . Louis eyed him wi th some anxiety.Coictier
’
s countenance assumed a darker and darker shade.D D 4
TE E B unons a cx or NOTRE-DAME. 409
Bloodsucker ! ” muttered the king, what is i t thouwouldst haveI lack a roof for these paintings, sire ; the cost will
be trifling, but I have no money .”
How much will i t cost ?"
W hy, a roof of Copper, embellished with figures andtwo thousand livres at the utmost.”
Ah the murderer exclaimed the king. He neverdraws me a too th but he makes a diamond of i t for him
Shall I have my roof ? ” said Coictier.
Y es and go to the devil — but cure me first.Jacques Coictier made a profound obeisance. Sire ,
said he,nothing but a repellen t can save you . We will
rub you r loin s wi th that fine specific composed of cerate,
Armenian bole,whi te of egg
,oil
,and vinegar. Y ou must
continue your drink,and we will answer for your maj es ty .
"
A lighted candl e attracts more than one moth . Maste rOli vier
,see ing the liberali ty of the king, and deeming i t a
favourable opportun ity, approached in his turn .
“Sire . .
How now ?” said Loui s XI .
Sire,your maj es ty knows that Simon Radin is dead.
What thenHe was counsellor of j ustice to the Exchequer.WellHis place i s vacant
,sire.
As he thus spoke,the haughty face of Master Oli vier
had relinquished its arrogan t expression,and assumed a
cringing air— the only change of whi ch a courtier’s fea
tures are susceptible. The king looked him full in the face.I understand
,
"said he dryly.Master Olivier
,
” he again began,after a brief pause,
Marshal de Boucicaut used to say, There are no gifts tobe got but from the king, no fish to be caught but in thesea.
’
I perceive that you are of the same way of thinkingas Monsieur de Boucicaut. Now li sten to this . We havea good memory . In 68
,we made you groom of our cham
ber ; in 69, keeper of the castle of the bridge of St. C loud,at a salary of one hundred livres tournois ; you wan tedthem to be pari sis. In November 73, by letters i ssued at
410 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
Gergeaul e, we appom ted you keeper ofi
the wood of Vincennes
, in the room of Gilbert Acle,esquire in 75, ranger
of the forest of Rouvray-lez- St. Cloud,in the room of
Jacques le Maire ; in 78 , we were graciously pleased, byletters paten t with double seal of green wax
,to grant a
yearly sum of ten livres parisi s to you and your wife, uponthe Place aux Marchands
,si tuate at the school of St. Ger
main in 79, we made you ranger of the forest of Senart,in the room of poor Jehan Daiz then captain of the castleof Loches
,then governor of St. Quentin, then captain of
the bridge of Meulan,from which you have taken the style
of coun t. Out of the fine of five sons paid by every barberwho shaves on a holiday, three sous go to you, and we haveyour leavings. We have been pleased to change your namefrom 16 M auvais, whi ch accorded but too well wi th yourmien . In 74 we gran ted you , to the great displeasure ofour nobili ty
,coat- armour of a thou sand colours
,which
makes you a breast like a peacock’
s . P asque are younot content yet ? I s not the draught of fishes miraculousenough ? Are you not afraid lest another salmon shouldsink your boat ? Pride will be your downfall
,comp ére.
Pride always has ruin and shame close at i ts heels. Thinkof thi s
,and be quiet.”
These words,u ttered with a stern look, caused the angry
visage of Master Olivier to resume its former insolence.’
T is plain,
” murmured he,almost aloud
,that the king
is ill to- day. He gives every thing to the physician .
”
Louis,so far from being exasperated at this impertinence,
again began with a degree of mildness Hold, I forgo tthat I made you my ambassador to Ghent to Madame Marie— Yes, gentlemen,
” added the king, turning towardsthe Flemings
,this man was my ambassador.— There
now,compére, continued he, addressing Master Oli vier,
we will not fall out : we are old friends . I t i s very latewe have finished our business. Shave me.Our readers were probably not prepared till this mo
ment to recognise in Master Oli vier that terrible Figaro,whom Providence
,the great dramatist, so curiously mixed
up with the long and bloody comedy of Loui s XI . W e
shall not here attempt to portray that singular face. This
THE HUNOHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME . 41 1
royal barber had three names . At court he was poli telycalled Ol ivier le Daim by the people
,Oli vier the Devil.
His real n ame was Olivier le Mauvais .O livier le Mauvais, then, s tood motionless, looking dog
gedlyat the king, and stealing sidelong glances at JacquesCoictier. Yes
,yes ! the physi cian he muttered be
tween his te eth .
Ah,yes
,the physician repeated Louis XI. with sin
gular mildness,
the physi cian has more influence thanthou . And very naturally . He has our whole body in hisgripe
,whilst thou layest hold of us by the chin only . Come,
my poor barber,think no more of i t. What wouldst thou
say,and what would become of thy office, i f I were a king
l ike Chilperic, who had a beard which he was in the habi tof grasping in his hand — Now
,compére, fetch your
things,and shave me.
”
Olivier,seeing that the king was determined not to be
put out of temper,left the room grumbling to comply with
his orders.The king rose
,went to the window, and hastily opening
i t, cried, clapping his hands, and wi th extraordinary agitation Ah
,yes ! the sky over the ci ty is all in a glow .
The bailiff"s house must be on fire ..It cannot be any
thing else. Well done,my good people — at length ye
lend me a hand to crush their lordships."Then turning
towards the Flemings Only come and look, gen tlemen .Is not that a fire yonder ?The two citi zens of Ghent approached . T is a great
fire too,
” said Guillaume Rym .
By the mod cried COppenole, whose eyes all at oncesparkl ed, that reminds me of the burning of the Seigneur d
’
Hymbercourt’
s house . There must be a fine insurrection yonder.”
Think you so, Master Coppenole ?” said the king, with
a look of scarcely less delight than that of the hosier.’
Twill be difficult to quell,no doubt.
By the mass,sire
,your majesty will get a great many
companies of men- at-arms thinned in doing it."
Ah I that alters the case rej oined the king.
If I pleased
TE E E UNCE BACK or NOTRE-DAME. 41 3
By what clock,pray ?
C0ppenole, with grave but tranquil look, drew the kingclose to the window . Listen, sire . Here is a castlekeep
,there a bell- tower, cannon, burghers, soldiers.
When the bell- tower shall buzz,when the cannon shall
roar,when the keep shall fal l with a mighty crash, when
the burghers and the soldiers shall shou t and slay one another
,then shall the hour have struck .
"
The face of Louis XI . became gloomy and thoughtful .For a moment he was silen t he then patted with hi s handthe thi ck wall of the tower, as though i t had been the flankof a favourite charger. O no ! ” said he, thou wiltnot fall so easily
,my good Bastille ! Then turning
sharplyltowards the bold Fleming : Master Jacques,”said
he have you ever seen an insurrection ?”
I have made one,” answered the hosier.
How do you set about making an insurrection ?
enquired the king .
‘Vhy,” repli ed Coppenole, the thing is not at all
difficult. There are a hundr ed ways . I n the first placethe city must be discontented. That is not a rare circumstance . And then the character of the inhabitants . Thoseof Ghen t are disposed to sedi tion . They are always attached to the son of the reigning prince, but never to theprince himself. Well
,I will suppose that some morn ing
,
some one comes in to my shop and says to me : FatherC0ppenole, here i s this, that, and the other the demoisell e of Flanders is determined to save her ministers thehigh bailiff has doubled the toll for grinding corn ’ or anything else — no matter what. Incontinently I leave mywork
,and ou t I go in to the street, and shout To arms !
’
There is always some cask or hogshead lying about. Ileap upon i t, and I tell, in the first words that come, whatI have upon my heart and when one belongs to the
people, sire, one always has something upon the hear t.Then the lieges assemble
,they shout
,they ring the al arm
bell, they arm themselves with weapons taken from the
soldiers, the marke t-people j oin them,and they fall to
work. And this will always be the way, while there are
414 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
lords in the seignories, burghers'
in the burghs,and peasants
i n the country .
And against whom do ye thus rebel ? enquired theking. Against your bailiffs against your liege-lords ?
”
Sometimes one, sometimes the other, just as i t happens sometimes too against the duke .Monsieur Louis returned to his chair. Aha said
b e with a smile here they have got no fur ther than thebailiffsAt that moment Olivier- le-Daim returned. He was
foll owed by two pages bearing the requisites for the king’s
toilet but what struck Louis XI . was the circumstan ce ofhis being accompanied also by the provost of Paris and theofficer of the watch, whose countenances bespoke al arm .
The face of the spiteful barber also wore a look of dismay,
but an expression of pleasure lurked beneath i t . He it waswho spoke . Begg ing your maj esty’s pardon
,said he
,
I bring calamitous tidings.”
The king, turning sharply round, tore the mat on thefloor wi th the legs of his chair. What have you to
say‘ Sire, replied Oliv ier_ le-Daim
,with the malignant
look of a man who rej oices in the opportuni ty of strikinga severe blow
,i t is not against the bailiff of the Pal ace
that the insurrection of the populace is directed.And against whom then ? ”
Against yourself,sire ? ”
The aged monarch starte d upon his feet,upright as a
young man . Explain, Olivier, explain ! And bewareof thy head, compare for I swear by the cross of St.
Lo that if thou liest, the sword which cut off the head ofMonsieur de Luxembourg is not so notched but i t shallhack off thineThi s was a formidable oath . In al l his li fe Loui s XI .
had sworn but twi ce by the cross of St. Lo . O livier Openedhis lips to reply . “ Sire .
Down on thy knees ! ” cried the king vehemently,interrupting him . Tristan
,look to this man !
”
Oli vier fell on his knees . “ Sire,” said he coldly, a
witch has been sentenced to death by your court of Par
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE- DAME. 415
liament. She has taken sanctuary in Notre-Dame . Thepeople have risen to remove her by force. The provostand the offi cer of the watch, who have just come from thespot, are here to contradict me if I speak not truth . I t i sto Notre-Dame that the rabble are laying siege .
"
Soho ejaculated the king,in a low tone
,pale and
trembling with rage. “Notre-Dame,is i t ? They are
besieging Our Lady,my good mistress
,in her own cathe
dral -Rise,Olivier. Thou art right. I give thee Simon
Radin ’s place . Thou art right. I t i s myself whom theyare assailing. The witch is under the safeguard of thechurch
,the church i s under my safeguard . I verily believed
that the bailiff was the object of their attack. I t is myself,after allThen, as i f his passion had suddenly restored to him the
vigour of youth,he began to pace the floor with hasty
strides . He no longer laughed : he was terrible to beholdas he s talk ed to and fro . The fox was turned into anhyaena. He seemed to be choked, and incapable of utterance : his lips moved
,and his scraggy fi sts were clenched.
'All at once he raised his head his hollow eye glared andhi s voi ce burst forth like the blast of a trumpet : Cutthem in pieces
,Tristan ! cut all those knaves in pieces !
Go, my friend Tristan slay,and spare not
This explosion over,he returned to his seat
,and said
with cold,concentrated rage Here
,Tristan ! — W e
have with us in this Bas ti lle the Vicomte de Gif’s fiftylances
,making together three hundred horse : take them .
There is also Captain de Chateaupers’ company of thearchers of our ordnance : take them . Y ou are provost ofthe farriers you have your own people : take them . Atthe Hotel St. Pol you will find forty archers of the newguard of Monsieur the Dauphin : take them . And withall this force hasten forthwi th to Notre-Dame — So, so,messieurs of the mob of Paris
,i t i s at the crown of France,
at the sanctity of Our Lady,and at the peace of thi s
commonwealth, that your blows are aimed — Exterminate,
Tristan ! exterminate ! Spare not one of them but forMontfaucon
TnE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 417
He made the sign of the cross, rose, put on hi s hat, andsaid to Tristan Lose not a moment
,campers . Take
Monsieur de Chateaupers along with you. Let the al arm.
hell be rung. Quell the rabble . Hang the sorceress. Thatis settled . I expect you to bear the costs of the execution .Repor t to me upon it. Come, Oli vier, I shall not get tobed to-night. Shave me .Tristan the Hermit bowed and reti red . The king then
motioned Rym and COppenole to wi thdraw. God keepyou
,my good friends of Flanders. Go
,take a li ttle rest
the night i s far spent ; indeed we are nearer to morningthan evening.Both accordingly retired
,and on reaching their apart
ments,to which they were escorted by the captain of the
Bastille, Coppenole said to Guillaume Rym By the
m od ! I have had enough of thi s coughing king. I haveseen Charles of Burgundy drunk ; he was not so ill- conditioned as Louis XI . si ck .
Master Jacques,replied Rym,
’
t is be cause the wineof kings is not so cruel as their diet-drink .
CHAPTER VI .
A NARROW ESCAPE .
ON leaving the Bastille, Gringoire scudded down the RueSt. Antoine with the swiftness of a runaway horse. Whenhe had reached the Baudoyer gate, he walked straight upto the stone cross which stood in the middle of the openspace
,as though he had been able to di scern in the dark
the figure of a man in a black dress and cowl,seated on
the s teps of the cross. Is i t you, mas ter ?” said Grin
goire.
The black figure started up. Death and perdition !Y ou make my blood boil, Gringoire . The warder on thetower of St . Gervais has jus t cried half pas t one.
”
Why,”repl ied Gringoire,
’ti s not my fault,but that
E E
41 8 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
of the watch and the king. I have had a narrow escape.I was on the point of being hanged . I am predestinedto i t, I fancy .Thou art never in time for any thing
,said the other
but let us be gone. Hast thou the watch-word ? ”
Only think,master I have seen the king ! I have
j ust come from him . He wears fustian breeches .’
Ti squite an adventure
E ternal babbler What care I for thy adventureHast thou the watch-word of the Vagabonds ?
Be easy I have .”
’
Tis well . We should not else be able to reach thechurch . The rabble block up all the streets . Luckily
,
they seem to have met wi th resistance. We shall perhapsyet arrive in time.
"
Yes,master
,but how are we to get in to the church ?
I have a key to the towers .”
And how shall we get out ?
Behind the cloisters there is a postern opening uponthe Terrain
,and so to the river . I have taken the key of
i t,and I moored a boat there this morning.
”
I have had a most lucky escape from the gal lows indeed ! ” said Gringoire , exultingly .
N ever mind that now come al ong, quick rej oinedthe other.Both then proceeded at a rapid pace towards the C i ty.
CHAPTER VI I .
CHATEAUPERS To THE R ESCUE !
THE reader probably recollects the cri tical si tuation inwhich we left Quasimodo. The brave hun chback, assailedon all sides, had los t, if not all courage, at least al l hopeof saving, not himself — he never once thought of himself— but the Egyptian . He ran in consternation to thegallery. The church was on the point of being ,
carried
TE E B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME . 419
by the mob. All at once the tramp of horses in full gallopwas heard in the neighbouring streets ; and presently awide column of horsemen riding at speed and a long fileof torches poured wi th a tremendous noise into the Placelike a hurri cane. France ! France for ever ! Chateaupers to the rescue ! Down with the rascals ! ” The affrighted Vagabonds faced about.Quasimodo
,who could not hear the din , saw the naked
swords, th
'
e torches,the pike - heads
,the whole column of
cavalry,at the head of which he recognised Captain
Phoebus . He observed the confusion of the rabble, theconsternation of some, and the alarm of the stoutest and,at the sight of this unexpected succour, he mustered strengthenough to th row down the foremost o f the assailan ts
,who
were already s triding over into the gallery .
The mob .defended themselves with the valour of despai r. Taken in flank by the Rue St. Pierre- aux-Boeufsand in rear by the Rue du Parvis, with their backs towardsNotre-Dame
,which they were still assailing and which
Quasimodo defended,at once besiegers and besieged, they
were in the singular si tuation in which Coun t Henrid’ Harcourt subsequently found himself at the famous siegeof Turin
,in 1 640
,between Prince Thomas of Savoy whom
he was besieging,and the Marquis de Leganez , who was
blockading him ; Taurinum obses sor idem et obsessus,as
his epitaph has i t.The confl ic t was terrible. As Father Mathieu observesW olf
’S
‘
fl esh requires dogs’ tee th . The king’
s tr00ps ,amids t whom Phoebus de Chateaupers conducted himselfvaliantly
,gave no quarter : what escaped the point of the
sword was cut down by the edge . The rabble,badly
armed,foamed and bit. Men, women, children, darting
at the flanks and chests of the horses, clung to them likecats with tooth and nail . Some thrust torches into thefaces of the archers : while others, catching them by theneck wi th iron hooks
,pul led them from their horses and
cut them in pieces . One in particular was remarkedwith a huge scythe
,mowing away at the legs of the
horses. I t was a fearful sight. Snu ffiing a stave wi thnasal twang
,he kep t his scythe incessantly going. At each
E E 2
rm: HUNCHBACK on NOTRE-DAME . 421
BOOK X .
CHAPTER I .
THE LITTLE SHOE .
Ar the momen t W he n the Vagabonds attacked the church ,
La Esmeralda was asleep . I t was not long before shewas roused by the constantly increasing noise around thecathedral and the uneasy bleating of her goat, which hadawoke before her. She sat up, listening and looking aboutthen
,alarmed by the light and the uproar
,she hurried ou t
of the cell to see what was the matter. The aspect o f thePlace
,the scene exhibited there
,the confusion of thi s
nocturnal assault,the hideous appearance of the rabble
,
hopping about l ike a t g f figgg, fain tly di scerned inthe dark
,the harsh croaking of this coarse mob
,the few
torches dancing to and fro in the obscuri ty,like those
meteors of night gamboll ing over the misty surface ofbogs, produced all together the effect of a mysterious battlebetween the phan toms of the witches’ sabbath and thestone monsters of the church . Imbued from infancywith the supersti tions of the gipsy tribe, her firs t ideawas that she had caught the strange beings peculiar tonight in their unhallowed pranks . She then hurriedback in afl
'
right to her cell,to bury her face in the bed
clothes,and to shut out if possible the te rrific vision .
The first fumes of fear having gradually dispersed , she
found,from the in cessantly increasing din and divers
other tokens of reality, that she was invested not byspectres but by creatures of flesh and blood. Her te rrorthen, without being augmen ted, changed its form . Shehad conceived a notion of the po ss ibil i ty of a popu lar sedi tion to tear her from her asylum . The prospect of stilllosing her life
,her hopes
,her t bus, which her ima
E E 3
422 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
gination held forth to her, the absolute nothingness of herown strength, her forlorn si tuation, cut off from all support,all chance of flight these and a thousand other thoughtsoverwhelmed her. She fell upon her knees, laying herhead covered with her clasped hands upon the bed
,fill ed
with thrilling apprehension s ; and, Egyptian, idolater,and pagan as she was
,she began with heavy sobs to im
plore mercy of the God of Christians and to pray to our
Lady,her protectress. For
,he one
’s creed what i t w ill,
there are moments in life,when one is ‘ always of the
religion of the temple near which one happens to be .In this atti tude she remained for a considerable time
,
‘
trembling indeed more than she prayed,her blood curdl ing
at the indi cations of the nearer and nearer approach ofthat infuriated multitude
,utterly at a loss to account for
their proceedings,ignorant of W hat they were doing and
what they meant to do,but anticipating some terrible
catastrophe .Amidst this anguish she heard a footstep close to her.
She looked up . Two men, one of whom carried a lan
tern,had jus t en tered her cell . She gave a faint shriek.
Fear nothing,”said a voice
,which was not unknown
to her : i t i s I .”
And who are you ? ” she inquired .
Pierre Gringoire .”
That name gave her fresh courage. She lifted her eyesand saw that i t actually was the poet. But at his sidestood a black figure
,muffled up from head to foot
,which
struck her mute .Ah resumed Gringoire
,i n a tone of reproach,
Dj ali knew me before you didThe little goat had
,in fact
,not waited for Gringoire
to mention his name. No sooner did he enter than shefondly rubbed against his knees
,covering the poet with
endearments and white hair ; for she was shedding hercoat. Gringoire returned her caresses.
W ho i s that with you said the Egyptian in a low
Be easy,answered Gringoire. Tis one of my
fri ends .”
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 423
The philosopher,setting down the lan tern
,crouched
u pon the floor,clasped Djali in his arms and cried wi th
en thusiasm,Oh !
'
ti s a darling creature, with its engaging ways
,and withal shrewd
,ingenious
,and learned
as a grammarian ! Come,my Djali, let us see if thou
has t not forgotten thy diverting tri cks. How does MasterJacques Charm olue doThe man in black would not suffer him to finish . He
s tepped up to Gringoire, and roughly pushed him on theshoulder. Gringoire rose . Ah ! true said he I
had well nigh forgotten that we are in haste . But yet,
master, [that i s no reason for hurting people so. - My
dear girl,your life i s in danger
,and Djali
’
s too. Theymean to hang you again . We are your friends, and arecome to save you . Follow us .Is i t true ? ” cried she in extreme agi tation .
Qui te true,
I assure you . Come quick ! ”
I will,
"s tammered she. But how i s i t that your
friend does not speak ?”
Why,
”said Gringoire, the fact is
,that his father
and mother were fantas ti c people,and made him of a re
served disposition .
”
She was obliged to be satisfied wi th this explanation .Gringoire took her by the hand his companion picked upthe
,lantern and walked on before. The young creature was
s tupified with fear. She suffered Gringoire to lead heraway. The goat went with them
,frisking about
,and so
o verjoyed to see the poe t again,that she thrust her head
every moment against hi s legs with such force as to makehim s tagger. Such is life
,
” said the philosopher,when
ever he had well nigh fallen ;“ i t i s often our best friends
that throw us downThey rapidly descended the tower stairs
,passed through
the chur ch, dark, soli tary, but ringing wi th the uproar,which produced a fearful contrast
,and wen t ou t by the
Porte Rouge into the cloister court. The cloisters weredes erted the canons had fled to the bishop
'
s palace,where
they were praying together : the court was empty, with theexception of a few afi
'
righted serving-men, squatting in thedark corners. Gringoire and his companions proceeded to
8 3 41
rna B UNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 425
boat, was to take his seat at the stern and to lift the goatupon his knees. Her mistress
,in whom the stranger ex
ci ted undefinable apprehensions,sat dow nby the poe t, press
ing close to his side .When our philosopher felt the boat moving, he clapped
his hands,and kissed Djal i
’
s forehead . Oh he exclaimed
,we are all four saved l Vith the look of a
profound thinker, he added, One is indebted sometimesto fortune, sometimes to stratagem,
for the successful i ssueof great undertakings .”
The skiff slowly pursued i ts way toward the righ t bank .The girl watched the mysterious unknown wi th secretterror. He had carefully masked the light of his darklan tern ; and he was faintly seen in the fore-part of theskiff, like a spectre . His cowl, still down, formed a sortof visor, and every time that, in rowing, he openedhis arms
,from which hung wide black sleeves
,they
looked like two prodigious bats ’ wings. He had not yetuttered a word
,or suffered a breath to escape him . He
made no other noise in the boat than what proceeded fromthe working of the cars, which blended wi th the ru sh of
the thousand ripples against the side of the vesse l .Odds my life ! ” suddenly exclaimed Gringoire, we
are as merry aa s o m any/owls ! Mute as Pythagoreans or
fish ! P uma s—D ieu, rny friends, I wish somebody wouldtalk to me .— The human voice is music to the human ear.By the by, that saying belongs not to me but to Didymusof Al exandria
,and a most pertinent one i t is . Certes,
D idymus of Alexandria was no ordinary philosopher.One word, my sweet girl ! speak to me, I beseech you .
Do you know,my love
,that the Parliament has supreme
jurisdiction over sanctuaries,and that you ran as great
risk in your cell in Notre-Dame as the little bird tro
chylus, which builds i ts nest in the j aws of the crocodile ?— The moon is breaking out again, mas ter !
’Tis to behoped we shall not be perceived — W e are doing a praiseworthy action to be sure in saving the demoiselle
,and yet
we should be hanged in the king’s name if they were tocatch a s .
— Alas human actions have two handles, to layhold by. What is condemned in one i s applauded in an
426 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
other. Many a man censures Catiline and admires Caesar.I s i t not so
,master ? What say you to that philosophy ?
For my part,I possess the philosophyof instinct, of nature,
a t apes geometriam .—What
,will nobody answer me ? How
dull ye both are ! I am obliged to talk to myself. Thati s what we call in tragedy a soliloquy.— P asque-D ieu ! letme tell you I have just seen Louis XI .
,and have learned
that oath from him . P asque then, what an uproarthey are still making in the City l— He i s a mean old
king,that Mon sieur Louis. He has not yet paid me for
my epithalamium, and i t was a mere chance that he did notorder me to be hanged to- night, which would have annoyedme exceedingly . He is stingy towards men of merit. Heought to read the four books by Salvianus of Cologne
,Ad
versus avaritiam . In good sooth,’
t i s a close-fis ted kingin his dealings with men of letters, and commits very barbarous cruelties . He is a very sponge in sucking up themoney drained from the people . His revenues are like thebell y fattening by the leanness of all the other m embers .Complain ts of the hardness of the times are therefore treatedas murmurs against the prince. Under this mild godly oldgentleman
,the gibbets crack with the weight of the con
demned, the blocks are clotted wi th putrefying gore, theprison s are bursting like cows in a clover-field . This kinghas a hand that takes and a hand that hangs . He is attorney- general to Monseigneur Gibbe t and my lady Gabelle.The great are despoiled of their dignities
,and the humble
incessantly loaded with fresh burdens. ’T is an exorbitantprince . I cannot love this monarch . What say you,masterThe man in black did not in terrupt the censures of the
garrulous poet . He continued to struggle against theviolence of the current which separates the prow of theCi ty from the poop of the isle of Notre-Dame, which wenow call the isle of St. Louis.“By the by
,master, Gringoire began again abruptly,
at the moment when we had passed through the enragedrabble and reached the Parvis, did you remark that unlucky little wight
,whose brains your hun chback was in a
fair way to dash out against the balustrade of the gallery
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME . 427
of the kings ? I am too near- sigh ted to recognise him .
Perchance you know who it was .”
The unknown answered not a word . But he suddenlyceased rowing
,his arms sank
,as if broken
,his head
drooped upon his breast, and La Esmeralda heard himsigh convulsi vely . She had heard sighs of that kindbefore .The skiff
,left to i tself, drifted for some moments at the
wi ll of the curren t. At length, the man in black rousedhimself
,and again began pulling against the stream . He
doubled the point o f the isle of Notre-Dame, and rowedtowards the landing-place of the Port- au - Foin .
Ah said Gringoire,yonder is the logis Barbeau .
— On1y look,master
,at that group of black roofs which
form such singular angles — there,beneath that mass of low
,
streaky,dirty- looking clouds
,in which the moon appears
smashed and spread about like the yolk of a broken egg .
’Tis a goodly mansion that ! I t has a chapel, with vaultedroof
, beautified with excellen t sculptures . Y ou may seeabove i t the belfry
,with i ts rare and deli cate tracery .
There is also a pleasan t garden,containing a fish-pond
,an
aviary,an echo
,a mall
,a maze
,a house for wild beasts,
and many shady alleys parti cularly agreeable to Venus .There is likewise a rogue of a tree called ‘The Lovers’
Tree,
’ because i t served for the trysting—place of a famousprincess and a gay and witty constable of Fran ce . Alas !we poor philosophers are to a constable what a bed of cabbages or turn ips is to a grove of laurel s . What signifies i tafter all For the great, as for us, life is a medley of goodand ill . Pain is ever by the side of pleasure as the spondeeby the dactyl .— I must tell you the hi s tory of the logisBarbeau, master : i t finished in a tragical way . I t was in1 3 19, under Philip V.
,who reigned longer than any other
king of France . The moral of the history is that thetemptations of the flesh are hurtful and pernicious. Bewareof looking too hard at the wife of your neighbour, much asyour senses may be tickled by her beauty. — Zounds !what an uproar they are making yonder ! ”
The tumult around Notre-Dame was in fact ragingwi th increased vehemence. They lis tened. Shouts of
'rnn HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 429
The poor Egyp tian shuddered on finding herself alonewi th that man . She strove to speak, to cry ou t, to callGringoire but her tongue refused its office
,and not a
sound i ssued from her lips. All at once, she felt the handof the unknown upon hers . Her teeth chattered and sheturned paler than the moon
’
s ray whi ch fell upon her.The man spoke not a word. With hasty step he began tomove towards the Place de Greve
,drawing her along by
the hand . At that moment she had a vague feeling thatFate i s an irresistible power. She had lost all elasticity
,
and followed mechanically, running while he walked.The quay at this spot i s rising ground ; to her i t seemed asif she were going down—hill .She looked around on all sides . Not a passenger was
to be seen . The quay was absolutely deserted. Sheheard no sound, she perceived no movement of men but inthe tumultuous and roaring C i ty, from which she wasparted only by an arm of the Seine, and whence her name,mingled with cries of death
,was wafted to her ear . The
rest of Paris lay scattered around her in vast masses ofshade.Meanwhile the unknown continued to drag her along
with the same silence and the same rapidi ty . She had norecoll ection of the places through which he took her. Inpassing a lighted window she suddenly made an effort toresist
,and cried Help ! help !
The window opened ; the inm ate of the room appearedat i t in his shirt and nightcap
,with a lamp in his hand
,
looked out wi th drowsy eyes upon the quay,muttered a
few words,which she could not catch , and reclosed the
window. She felt as though the la st glimmer of hope wasextinguished.
The man in black uttered not a syllable : he held hertightly, and began to qui cken his pace. She ceased to
resist, and followed him spiritless and helpless.From time to time she mustered a li ttle s trength
,and
in a voi ce broken from the j olting of the rugged pavementand from her being ou t of breath, owing to the rapid rateat whi ch she was drawn along
,she asked : W ho are
you Who are you He made no reply .
430 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
Proceeding thus along the quay, they arrived at a largeopen space. The moon shone faintly . I t was the Gréve.In the middle of i t stood a sort of black cross — it was thegibbet . She now knew where she was .The man stopped, turned towards her, and raised his
cowl . Oh !”stammered she
,petrified with horror
,I
knew that i t must be heI t was in truth the priest. He looked like a ghost.
Moonlight produces this effect. I t seems as if by thatlight one beholds only the spectres of objects .List to me said he ; and she shuddered at the
sound of that fatal voice,which she had not heard for so
long a time . He continued,with frequent pauses and in
broken sentences which betoken v iolen t inward agitation,
List to me ! Here we are . I would speak to thee .This i s the Greve. We go no farther. Fate delivers usup in to the hands of each other. Thy life i s at my disposal : my soul at thine. Here is a place and a night heyond which one sees nothing. List to me then . I wouldte ll thee but not a word about thy Phoebus ashe spoke he paced to and fro
,like a man who cannot
remain quietly on one sp ot, and drew her after himtalk not to me of him . If thou but utterest that name
,
I know not what I shall do but i t will be terrible .Having proceeded thus far
,like a body recovering its
cen tre of gravity, he stood still, but his words betrayed notthe less perturbation . His voice became more and morefaint .Turn not thy head from me thus . List to me . ’Tis
a serious business . F i rs t, I would tell thee what haspassed . I t is not a thing to laugh at, I p rotest to thee.But what was I saying ! Ah
,yes ! An order has been
i ssued by the Parliament which consigns thee again to thegallows . I have rescued thee from their hands . Butyonder they are searching for thee . 'Look.
”
He poin ted towards the Ci ty . I t was evident, in fact,that the search was continued . The noise drew nearer.The tower of the lieutenant’s house, facing the Greve, wasfull of hu stle and ligh ts and soldiers might be seenrunning on the Opposite quay wi th torches, shouting :
'rnr: nuncanacsr or NOTRE-DAME . 43 1
The Egyptian ! where i s the Egyptian ? Death !death
Thou seest that they are in pursui t of thee, and thatI am not deceiving thee . Maiden, I love thee ! Open notthy lips ; answer me not, if i t is to tell me that thouhatest me . I am determined not to hear that. I haveaided thine escape . Let me complete the work . I cansave thee. Every thing i s prepared . All depends on
thy will . Whatever thou wilt shall be done .He in terrupted himself with vehemence No that
is not what I mean t to say Then running and drawingher along after him
,for he sti ll kept hold of her
,he wen t
straight to the foot of the gibbet,and
,poin ting to i t, said
coldly : Choose be tween us .”
She tore herself from his gripe,and
,throwing herself
on the pavement, clasped the foot of the fatal machine ;then
,half turning her head
,she looked over her shoulder
at the priest. You would have taken her for a VirginMary at the foot of the cross . The priest s tood motionless,his finger still raised towards the gibbet, like a statue.
I feel less horror of that than of you,
”at length said
the Egyptian .
He slowly dropped his arm and cast his eyes upon thepavement in deep dejection . Yes
,
” said he ; i f thesestones could speak they woul d say There is the mostmiserable of menI love you
,he again began . The girl
,kneeling
before the gibbet,covered by her long flowing hair
,
allowed him to proceed without interruption . His accen twas now soft and plaintive
,wofull y contrasting with the
lofty sternness of his features.I love you . Nothing can be more true . No fire can
be fiercer than that which consumes my heart. Ahmaiden, night and day yes
,nigh t and day doth this
claim no pi ty ? ’Tis a love,a tortu re
,night and day, I
tell thee. Oh ! my dear girl,
’t i s an agony worthy of
compassion, I assure thee . I would speak kindly to thee,thou seest. I would have thee not feel such horror ofme . And then, if a man loves a woman i t i s not his fault .
O my God What ! thou wil t never take compassion on
THE nunonnacx or NOTRE -DAME . 433
I done wi th him, Lord ? I have taken him unto me, Ihave fed him
,I have brought h im up, I have loved him,
I have idoli sed him,and, I have slain him Yes
,
Lord,he i t was whose head was but now dashed before
mine eyes against the stones of thy temple, and i t was onmy account, and on account of this female, on her ao
coun tHis eye glared wildly. His voice became more and
more faint : be repeated several times, and with pauses ofsome length
,like a bell prolonging its last v ibration
On her accoun t On her accountHis lips continued to move, but his tongue ceased to articulate any audible sound . All at once, he sank down andremained motionless upon the ground, wi th his head bowedto his knees.A sligh t movemen t made by the girl to draw her foot
from under him brought him to himself. He passed hishand slowly over his hollow cheeks, and looked vacantlyfor some moments at his fingers whi ch were wet.What he muttered ; have I wept ? ”
Turning abruptly towards the Egyp tian, with irrepressible anguish, he said : And hast thou coldly beheldme weep ? Knowest thou
,girl, that those tears are lava ?
I s i t then true that thy sex are not moved by any thingthat can befal the man they hate ? Wert thou to see medie
,thou wouldst laugh . But I I wish not thy death !
One word ! a single word of kindness Tell me not thatthou lovest me ; say only that thou wishest me welli t shall suffice I will save thee . O therwise Ohthe time passes . I implore thee by all that is sacred
,wai t
not till I am again transformed into stone, like that gibbetwhich also claims thee ! Consider that I hold both our
fates in my hand, that I am mad oh i t is terriblethat I may let all drop, and that there is beneath us a bot.tomless abyss, down which I shall follow thee in thy fallto all eternity ! One kind word ! one word ! but a singlewordShe opened her lips to answer. He fell on his knees
before her, to ca tch with adoration the words, perhaps ofF F
434 THE HUNCHBAC'K or NOT'RE-DAME .
sympathy, which should drop from her mouth . Youare an assassin !
”said she.
The priest clasped her furiousl y in his arms, and burstforth into a terrifi c laugh . Assassin though I he
,cried
he,I will have -thee. Thou wilt not have me for a
'
slave ; thou shalt have me for a master . Thou shalt bem ine. I have a den to which I will drag thee. . Thoushalt come, thou must come, with me, or I will deliverthee up ! Thou must die, my girl, or be m ine — be thepriest’s
,the apostate
’
s,the assassin ’s — and this very
night too, hearest thou ? The grave or my bed. Go toK i ss me, wanton ! Joy ! joy !
”
His eye sparkl ed with lust and rage. The damsel’sneck was flushed beneath the touch of his lecherous lips.She struggled in his grasp . Meanwhile hisjoaming (mouth ,0 d her with kisses .
B i te me not,monster cried she. Oh the hate
‘
ful poisonous monk ! Loose me, or I will tear ou t thy\\scurvy gray hair and dash i t in thy face\ He reddened, turned pale, released her from his gripe,and eyed her with a gloomy look . She deemed herselfv i ctorious
,and continued I tell thee I belong to my
Phoebus, that’t i s Phoebus I love
,that ’ ti s Phoebus who i s
handsome As for thee, priest, thou art old, thou art uglyG0 thywayHe gave a violent shriek
,like a .wretch to whose flesh a.
red-hot iron is applied . D ie then said he, , gnashinghis teeth . She noticed the infernal maligni ty of his look,and would have fled . He caught her again, shook her,threw her down
,and with rapid strides proceeded towards
the angle of Roland’
s Tower, dragging her after him al ongthe pavement by her beautiful arms.
On reaching that poin t he turned towards her.more
,
” said he, wilt thou be mineShe replied firmly, No.He then cried aloud Gudul e Sister Gudule ! Here
i s the Egyptian ! Revenge thyself on her !”
The damsel felt herse lf suddenly sei zed by the wris t.She looked : i t was a skeleton arm thrust through a holein the wall, which held her like a vice.
THE HUNCHBACK os norms-Dams . 435
Hold fast said the priest,’ti s the Egyptian
,who
has run away. Let her not escape . I will fetch thesergean ts thou shalt see her hanged.
”
These inhuman words were answered by a gutturallaugh from within the wall : Ha ! ha ! ha ! TheEgyptian saw the priest run off towards the bridge ofNotre-Dame. The tramp of horses was heard in that direction .
The girl presently recogn ised the mali cious recluse .Panting with terror
,she strove to release herself. She
writhed,she made many a bound of agony and despair
,
bu t the recluse held her with supernatural force. Thebony fingers meeting round her wrist clasped her asfirmly as if that hand had been riveted to her arm . Moreefficient than a chain or ring of i ron, i t was a pai r of living and in telligent pincers issuing from a wall .Against that wal l La Esmeralda sank exhausted
,and
then the fear of death came over her. She thought ofthe pleasure of life, of youth, of the aspe ct of the sky, ofthe scenery of nature
,of love
,of Phoebus
,of all that was
past and all that was to come,of the priest who was gone
to denounce her,of the gibbe t which stood there
,and the
hangman who would presen tly arrive. Then did she feelhorror mounting to the very roo ts of her hair
,and she
heard the sinis ter laugh of the recluse, who said in a lowtone Thou art going to be hanged ha ha haShe turned hal f. dead toward the aperture and saw the
sallow face of the recluse be tween the bars . What harmhave I done to you said she in a fain t voice .The recluse made no reply, but began to mutter, with a
singing,irri tating
,and jeering intonation Gipsy girl !
gipsy girl ! gipsy girl 1”
The wretched Esmeralda drooped her head,conceiving
that i t was not a human being wi th which she had to deal.
Suddenly the recluse exclaimed,as if the girl’s question
had taken all the in termediate time to reach her understanding What harm hast thou done me
,dos t thou
ask t at harm hast thou done me,Egyp tian Why
,
listen . I had a child,seest thou ? a little child
,an infan t
,
I tell thee a pretty li ttle girl. My Agnes,
” she re.F r 2
m s nuncnnaox or NOTRE-DAME. 437
Give me my child .
The poor girl sank down, overcome, exhausted, wi ththe glazed eye of one who is already in the grave. Al as !s tammered she, you seek you r child, and I seek my pa.rentsGive me my li ttle Agnes
,continued Gudule. “Thou
knowest not where she is ? — then die I tell thee,I
was a lewd woman ; I had a child ; they took i t awaythose accursed Egyp tians
’
T is plain then thou must die.When thy Egyptian mother comes to ask for thee
,I wil l
say to her, Mother,look at that gibbet Or, give me
back my child — knowes t thou where she is , where myli ttle daughter is P Stay, I will show thee. There i s hershoe, al l that is left me Of her. Knowest thou where isits fellow ? I f thou dost
,tell me
,and if i t i s at the end
of the world I wil l fetch i t,if I crawl thither on hands
and knees .As she thus spoke
,putting her o ther hand out at the
aperture,she showed the li ttle embroidered shoe to the
Egyptian . I t was already light enough for her to dis tin
guish i ts form and colours.Let me look at that shoe
,said the girl, shuddering.
Gracious God ! At the same time, with the hand thatwas at liberty
,she tore Open the li ttle bag adorned wi th
green beads which she wore about her neckGO to go to muttered Gudule fumble away
in thy infernal amule t Then stopping short, and trembl ing in every joint
,she cried with a voice issuing from
her very bowels My child ! My childThe Egyptian had taken ou t Of the bag a li ttle shoe
that was the preci se fellow to the other. To this li ttleshoe was attached a piece of parchment
,upon whi ch was
wri tten thi s legendW hen the fellow thou shalt find,Thymother is not far be hind.
”
In the twinkling of an eye the recluse had compared thetwo shoes, read the inscription upon the parchment, and,thrusting her face
,beaming with celestial j oy
,against the
bars of the window,shouted My daughter my
daughter !F F 3
438 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
My mother my mother ! responded the Egyptian .
Here we stop short in our del ineationThe wall and the iron bars were between them .
Oh ! this wall ! ” cried the recluse. To see her,
yet not be able to clasp her to my heart ! Thy hand !give me thy handThe girl put her hand through the window : the recluse
sei zed i t,fastened her lips to i t and stood absorbed in that
kiss, gi ving no other sign Of life but a sigh which from
time to time heaved her bosom . Meanwhile tears gushedfrom her eyes
,in silence
,and in the dusk
,like a shower at
night. The poor mother poured forth upon that adoredhand the dark deep well- spring of tears which was withinher, and from which her sorrows had been oozing drop bydrop for fifteen years .All at once she raised her head
,threw back the long
gray hair from her face,and
,without saying a word
,
began to pull and thrust at the bars of her windowm or e
furiously than W e The bars defied her utmostthen went to a corner of her cell, fetched a
large paving- stone which served her for a pillow,and
dashed it against them with such v iolence as to shiver oneof them into several pieces. A second blow drove out theOld iron cross which barricaded the window. With bothhands she then pul led out the rusty fragments Of the bars.There are moments when the hands Of a woman possesssuperhuman force.The passage being cleared and this was accomplished
in less than a minute she clasped her daughter in herarms and drew her into the cell . Come ! ”murmuredshe let me drag thee from the abyssShe set her down gently upon the floor
,then caugh t her
up again,and
,carrying her in her arms
,as if she had still
been her infant Agnes,she paced her narrow cell, intox i
cs ted,frantic wi th j oy
,shouting
,singing
,kissing the girl,
tal king to her, laughing, weeping, all at once and withvehemence.
My child ! my dear child !” cried she. I have got
my child ! here she is ! The gracious God has restoredher to me. Come
,all of you, and see that I have got my
ra s HUNCHBACK OF NOTE S -DAME . 39
daughter again Lord Jesus,how beautiful she is . The
Almighty made me wait fifteen years, but i t was to giveher back to me in beauty. After all then the Egyptiansdid not eat thee Who could have said so ? My child,my dear li ttle child
,kiss me Oh
,those good Egyptians
How I love the Egyptians ! — And i t is thou thyself !And this was the reason why my heart always leapedwi thin me whenever thou wert passing. Fool that I wasto take thi s for hatred ! Forgive me, my Agnes, forgiveme ! Thou must have thought me very spi teful, didstthou not ? Ah how I love thee And the pretty markon thy neck ! hast thou i t still ? Let us see. Yes
,there
i t is ! Oh ! how handsome thou art grown . I t was fromthy mother thou hadst those large bright eyes K iss me
,
darling ! I do love thee What care I whether othermothers have children ! I can laugh at them now. Letthem come. Here is mine. Here is her neck
,her eyes
,
her hai r, her hand . Show me anything more charmingthan this Y es
,yes
,she will have plenty of lovers
,I will
answer for i t. I have sorrowed for fifteen years . All mybeauty has left me and gone to her. Kiss me
,love
In this strain she ran on,uttering a thousand extravagan t
things,the accent of which consti tuted al l their beauty
,
deranging the poor girl's dress so as to make her blush,
stroking her silken hair with her hand, kissing her foot,her knee
,her brow
,her eyes
,and extolling every feature .
The damsel suffered her to do as she please d,repeating at
intervals, i n a low and infinitely sweet tone : MyldearmotherAh
,my darling, the re cluse again began, interrupting
herself at every word with ki sses, how I shall love thee !We will leave thi s place . How happy we shall be ! Ihave some proper ty at Reims
,in our own country . Dost
thou remember Reims ? Ah no how shouldst thou thouwert then qui te an infant. If thou didst but know howpretty thou wert at four months Old ! Tiny feet whichpeople came ou t Of curiosi ty to see al l the way fromEpernay, which is fifteen miles Off ! l Ve shall have ahouse, a field . Thou shalt sleep in my bed . My God !
F F 4
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
gibbe t is for me. Save me save me They are coming !Save me l"
For some moments the recluse remained motionles s as astatue she then shook her head doubtingly
,and suddenly
burst into a loud laugh,her Old terrific laugh NO
,no
,
thou must be dreaming. I t cannot be . To lose her forfifteen years
,and then to find her for a single minute !
And they would take her from me again, now that she isgrown up and handsome
,and talks to me and loves me !
They woul d now come to devour her before my facemine, who am her mother ! Oh no ! such things are
not possible. God Almighty would not permi t suchdoings .”
By this time the cavalcade had apparently halted . Adistan t voice was heard calling ou t This way, Mes si reTris tan ! The priest says that we shall find her at theTrou-aux-Rats . The tramp of the horses began again .The recluse started up with a shriek of despair. Away
begone,my chil d ! I now recollect i t all . Thou ar t
right. ’ Tis for thy death . Curses on them Away !”
She put her head out at the window and quickly drewi t back again . Stay said she
,in a low
,dolefu l voice,
convulsively grasping the hand o f the Egyptian, who wasmore dead than alive . Stay ! hold thy breath ! ThePlace i s full of soldiers . Thou canst not get away . I tis too light."
Her eyes were dry and inflamed . For a moment sheremained silen t : but with hurried step she paced up anddown her cell, s topping now and then , and tearing outhandfuls Of her gray hair, which she dashed upon the floor.
They are coming she exclaimed all at once. Iwill tal k to them . Hide thyself in thi s corner. Theywill not see thee . I wil l tell them that I let thee go ;that thou hast run away that I will ! ”
Catching up the girl in her arms,she carried her to a
corner Of the cell whi ch could not be seen from without .Here she made her crouch down
,taking care that nei ther
foot nor hand should protrude beyond the dark shadow,loosed her black hair
,whi ch she spread over her whi te
robe to conceal i t, and placed before her the water-jug
442 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE -DAME . ,
and paving- stone, the only moveables that she p ossessed,fondly imagining that they would help to hide her. Thi sdone, she was more calm,
knelt down,and prayed. Day
had not yet so far broken but that dim Obscuri ty still pervaded the Trou- aux-Ra ts.At that moment
,the voice of the priest
,that infernal
voice, passed very close to the cell , crying This way,Captain Phoebus de ChateaupersAt that name
,at that voice
,La Esmeralda made a slight
movement. Stir not said Gudule.She had scarcely u ttered the words when a tumult of
horses and men was heard outside the cell . The motherhastily rose and posted herself before the window to interecpt the view of the interior. She beheld a numerous bodyOf armed men
,foot and horse
,drawn up in the Greve.
Their commander alighted,and advanced towards her. He
was a man of truculent aspe ct. “Old woman,said he,
we are seeking a sorceress to hang her : we were toldthat thou hadst her.”
The poor mother,assuming a look Of as much indiffer
ence as she coul d,answered
,I know not what you mean .
”
Tate-D ieu ! ” cried the other, what kind of s torydid that crazed archdeacon tell us ? Where is he ?
Monseigneur,said one of the soldiers, he has
slipped away .
"Come
,come, Old crone
,resumed the commandant,
let us have the truth A sorceress was given to thee tohold . What hast thou done with herThe recluse
,apprehensive lest by denying every thing
she might awaken suspicion,replied in a tone Of affected
sinceri ty and surliness,I f you mean a young girl that I
was desired to hold just now,all I can tell you is that she
bit me,and I le t her go . Leave me alone, I pray you .
”
The countenance of the commandan t betrayed a feelingOf disappoin tment.Tell me no lies
, Old scarecrow, rejoined he. I amTristan the Hermit
,the compére of the king. Tristan, the
Hermit,dost hear ?
’Tis a name,
” he added,looking around
at the Place de Greve,which has an echo here .
I f you were Satan the Hermit,”repl ied Gudul e, re
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE -DAME. 443
gaining some hope,I should have nothing else to tell
you , nei ther should I be afraid of you .
”
Téle-D ieu ! cried Tri stan,there’s a hag for you !
SO, the young sorceress has escaped ! And which way is she
goneDown the Rue du Mouton, I believe, answered Gu
dule in a careless tone.Tristan turned his head
,and motioned to his troop to
prepare to start. The recluse began to breathe again .
Monseigneur,said one of the archers, all at once,
ask the Old witch why the bars of her window arebroken in this fashion .”
That question once more overwhelmed the heart Of thewretched mother wi th anguish . She nevertheless retainedsome presence Of mind. They were always so,
” stammered she .Pooh replied the archer
,they formed but yester
day a fair black cross, fi t to remind a man Of his prayers .Tri stan cast a sidelong glance at the recluse. By my
fay,”said he, the bag does begin to look confused.
The wretched woman felt that all depended on keepingup a bold face
,and
,while her soul was racked with mortal
anguish, she fell a-laughing. Mothers have this kind of
force. Pshaw said she,that fellow is drunk . I t
i s more than a year since the tail Of a cart laden wi thstones was hacked against my window
,and broke the grat
ing. How I did abuse the driverT is true enough
,said another archer, I was
present.”
Wherever you may be you are sure to meet with peoplewho have seen every thing. This unexpected testimonysomewhat revived the recluse, who felt, during this in terrogatory like one forced to cross an abyss on the edge of aknife ; but she was doomed to a con tinual alternation ofhOpe and alarm .
I f i t was s cart that did this,repl ied the first soldier,
the stumps of the bars would be driven inward,whereas,
these are ben t outwards .”
Aha !”said Tristan to the archer
,
“ thou has t a
'r im HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME. 445
taken . In fact, I almos t think she must have crossed thewater.Why
,that is the very contrary way
,said the pro
vost. Besides,
’t is not likely that she would have goneback to the Ci ty, where search was making for her.Thou li es t, hag !And then
,added the first soldier, there is no
boat either on this side of the water or on the other”
She must have swum over,” replied the recluse
,de
fending the ground inch by inch .
Who ever heard of women swimming !” cried the
soldier.Téta-Dieu ! Old woman ! thou liest ! thou liest ! ex
claimed Tristan, wi th vehemence . I have a good mind toletthe young sorceress go, and to take thee instead . Aquarterof an hour
’
s torture will bring the truth out of thy throa t.Come
,thou shalt go along with us .
”
As you please, monseigneur,"said she
,eagerly catch
ing at these words . Go to , go to ! The torture ! I amready . Take me. Let us be gone forthwi th — Meanwhile
,thought she, my daughter will have opportunity to
escape .’Sblood ! cried the provost, what greedines s of tor
tu re The mad creature completely puzzles me .”
An Old gray-headed sergeant of the watch advanced fromthe ranks . Mad indeed monseigneur
,
” said he, ad
dressing the provost. I f she has let loose the Egyptian,
’ t i s not her fault,for she is not fond of the Egypti ans. For
these fifteen years that I have belonged to the watch I haveheard her every night cursing the Bohemian women withb i tter and endless execrations. I f the one we are seekingbe
,as I suppose, the dancing girl with the goat, I know
that she hates her above all.”
Gudule made an effort, and repeated, Above all .The unanimous testimony Of the men belonging to the
watch confirmed the representa tion of the old sergeant.Tristan the Hermit
,despair ing Of being able to extract any
information from the recluse, turned his back upon her.and wi th inexpressible anxiety she beheld him slowly proceeding towards his horse . Come, muttered he be
446 m s HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME.
tween his teeth,
let us be off and pursue our search. Iwill not sleep till the Egyptian i s hanged .
”
He nevertheless paused for some time before b e mountedhis horse . Gudul e wavered between life and death, on
seeing him cast around the Place the restless look of ahound, which is aware that the lair Of the game is near athand and is unwilling to leave the spot. At length heshook his head and vaul ted into the saddle. The heart ofGudule, so cruelly Oppressed, once more expanded, and,casting an eye upon her daughter
,at whom she had not
dared to look while the soldiers were there,she ej acul ated
in a low tone,Saved ! ”
The poor girl had remained all this time in her corner,
without stirring, without breathing, and having the imageOf death before her eyes . She had not lost any in cident ofthe scene be tween Gudule and Tristan
,and she had shared
all the agonies endured by her mother. She had heard thesuccessive snappings of the threads by which she was su spended over the abyss ; twenty times she expected to seethem all break and she at length began again to breatheand to feel herself upon solid ground . At this moment sheheard a voice saying to the provost, Corbwuf .
’ Mr. Provost
,
’
t is no business of mine,who am a soldier, to hang
witches. The beggarly crew are beneath one. I leave
you to attend to i t alone. Y ou must perm i t me to go andrej oin my company
,because i t i s without a captain .
”That
voice was the voi ce Of Phoebus de Chateaupers — Whatshe then felt i s not to be described. He was there, then,her friend
,her protec tor
,her refuge
,her Phoebus ! She
sprang up,and, before her mother could prevent her, darted
to the window,crying
,Phoebus ! my Phoebus ! come
hi therPhoebus was gone : he had just turned at a gallop the
corner of the Rue de la Cou tellerie. But'
Tristan was
( there still.l The recluse rushed upon her daughter with the roar off a wild beas t. Striking her nails into her neck she drewher back with violence . A mother tigress is
‘not very par-l
ticular. But i t was too late . Tristan had seen her.E igh eigh cried be
,with a grin which discovered
THE nurvcne acx or NOTRE-DAME . 447
all his tee th,and made his face resemble the muzzle of a
wolf, two mice in the trapI suspected as much
,
” said the soldier.Thou art an excellent cat replied Tristan, patting
him on the shoulder. Come,
”added b e,
“where isHenriet CousinA man who had neither the garb nor the look of a so]
dier stepped forth from the ranks . He wore a dress half
gray and half brown , and leathern sleeves had lank hair,and carried a coil of rope in hi s huge fist . This man alwaysaccompanied Tristan
,who always accompanied Louis X I.
“My friend,
" said Tristan the Hermit, I presumethat yonder is the sorceress whom we are seeking. Thouwilt hang her forthwith . Hast thou thy ladderThere is] one under the shed Of the Mai son-aux
Pi liers,”repli ed the man .
“I s i t at this justice that weare to do the business continued he
,pointing to the stone
gibbet.Y es .
HO ho ho !” rejoined the man, with a more vulgar,
more bestial grin than even that of the provost,we shan ’ t
have far to go.”
Make has te,said Tristan
,and laugh afterwards .
Ever sin ce Tristan had espied the girl,and al l hope was
at an end,the recluse had not u ttered a word . She had
thrown the poor Egyptian,half-dead
,in the corner Of the
cel l, and posted herself again at the window, wi th her twohaluls hke-cl
'
aws resting upon the corner Of the entabla ture .Ih this atti tude
,her eyes,which had again become wild and
fierce,were seen to wander fearlessly over the surrounding
soldiers . At the moment when Henriet Cousin reachedthe cell
,her look was so ferocious, that he started back .
said he,returning to the provost,
“whichare we to takeThe young one .
So much the better ; for you old hag looks like aTartar.Poor dancing-girl with the goat sighed the veteran
sergeant of the watch.
Once more Henriet Cousin approached the window.
m s HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 449
Henriet Cousin went to the shed of the Maisom aux
Pil iers to fetch hi s tools. He also brought from the sameplace a ladder, which he immediately set up against thegibbet. Five or six of the provost
’
s men armed themselveswith mattocks and crow-bars
,and Tristan proceeded wi th
them to the cell.Old woman, said the provost, in a stern voi ce, “yield
up the girl to us quietly .
She gave him such a look as though she understood notwhat he said .
Téta-D ieu resumed Tristan,
“what reason can st thouhave for preven ting this sorceress from berug hangedaccording to the king
’
s pleasureThe wretched woman burst into one of her wild laughs .What reason have I ?
’
Tis my da ughter Theaccen t with which
‘she uttered that word made evenHenriet Cousin himself shudder.I am sorry for i t,
”replied the provost
,but i t is
the good pleasure of the king .
”
‘Vhat is thy king to me cried she, redoubling herterrible laugh . I tell thee i t i s my daugh ter
Break down the wall ,” said Tristan .
Nothing more was required to make the Opening sufficiently wide than to displace one massi ve stone under thewindow . When the mother heard the mattocks and thecrow-bars sapping her fortress
,she gave a terrific scream
and then began to runround her cell wi th frig htful swifl.
ness one of the habits of a wild beast, whi ch she hadcontracted from confinement. She said nothing
,but her
eyes flashed fire . The soldiers were thril led to theirhearts
’
core. All at once she caught up her paving- stonein both hands
,laughed
,and hurled i t at the workmen .
The stone, feebly thrown — for her hands trembledmissed them all and rolled to the feet of Tristan
’
s horse.She gnashed her teeth .
Meanwhile,though the sun had not yet risen , i t was
broad daylight : the old decayed chimneys Of the Maisonaux- Piliers were tinged of a beautiful roseate hue. I twas the hour at which the earlies t windows of the greatci ty open cheerily upon the roofs. Certain of the in
G a
450 ru e B UNCHBAOK os NOTRE-DAME.
habitants dry costermongers r iding on their'
asses tothe markets— began to cross the Greve. They paused fora moment before the party of soldiers collected around theTrou-aux-Rats, surveyed them with looks of as tonishment,and pursued their way.The recluse had sat down in front of her daughter,
covering her with her body, listening with fixed eye to thepoor girl, who stirred not, who spake not, save that shemurmured in a low tone Phoebus ! PhoebusIn proportion as the work of the besiegers seemed to
advance,the mother mechanically drew back
,and pressed
the girl closer and closer against the wall . Al l at once shesaw the stone shake for she kept stri c t watch
,and never
took her eyes from i t and she heard the voice Of Tristanencouraging the labourers . Thi s roused her from thes tupor in to which she had sunk for some minutes
,and she
cried the while her voice sometimes rent the ear like asaw,
sometimes stammered as if all the malediction sthronging forth at once were j ostling one another upon herlips HO ! ho ! ho ! But thi s i s horrible. Robbers,do ye really mean to take my daughter from me ? I tell
you i t is my daughter ! Oh the cowards ! Oh thehangman’s lacqueys ! Oh ! the j ourneymen murderersHelp ! help ! fire ! But will they rob me Of my child inthis manner ? I s there then such a Being as they call GodAlmightyThen turning to Tri stan, with foaming lips, glaring
eyes, 99 alLfOurs iike
*a-panther;—and bristling with rage
Come a li ttle nearer to rob me of my daughter ! Dostthou not comprehend that this woman tells thee i t i s herdaughter ! Knowest thou what i t is to be the mother of achild ? Hast thou, lynx, never coupled with thy mate ?Hast thou never had a whelp by her ? and if thou hastyoung ones
,when they howl
,hast thou not within thee
something that yearn s at their cryDown with the s tone ! ” said Tristan i t is loos
ened.The crow-bars di splaced the ponderous stone. It was,
as we have said, the mother’s last rampart. She threw
herself upon i t she would have held it fast she scratched
wa s nunca e s cx or NOTE S -DAME . 451
i t with her nails but the massive block, set in motion bysix men
,slipped from her grasp, and glided gen tly to the
ground along the iron levers.The mother
,seeing an entry made
,threw herself
athwart the aperture,barricading the breach wi th her
body,waving her arms
,striking her head against the top
Of the window,and shouting wi th a voice so husky with
fatigue that i t could scarce ly be heard : Help fi re fireNow take the gi rl,
"said Tristan,cool as ever.
The mother scowled at the soldiers in so formidablea manner that they were much more di sposed to fall backthan to advance.
On,there shouted the provost. Henriet Cousin
,
on !
Not a creature stirred a step .
The provost swore : By Christ'
s head ! men- at- armsafraid Of a woman
Monseigneur,said Henriet, call you that a
woman .
‘L She has the inane of a lion,” said another.
Advance ! ’ r epli ed“
the,
provost, the gap is largeenough . Enter three abreast, as at the breach of Pontoise.Let us finish the business . By the death of Mahound thefirst that re coils I will cut in two .
"
Placed between the provost and the mother, and threatened by both , the soldiers hesi ta ted for a moment ; thenmaking their choice, they advanced towards the Tron-auxRats .When the recluse saw this, she suddenly raised herself
upon her knees,threw back her long hair from her face
,
and dropped her lank and lacerated hands upon her thighs.Big tears started from her eyes
,tri ckling one by one down
the wrinkles in her cheeks, like a torrent al ong the bedwhich i t has wrought for i tsel f. At the same time shebegan to speak
,but in a voice so supplian t, so meek, so
subdued, so cutting,that more than one Old trooper who
could have eaten human flesh had to W ipe his eyes .Gentlemen, and messieurs sergeants, one word
There is one thing that I must tell you . I t i s mydaughter, look you — my dear little girl, whom I had
a o 2
THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME . 453
I tell you ! she i s not the king’
s ! she i s not yours . Iwi ll be gone ; we will both go . Who would s top two
weak women,one of them the mother
,the other the
daughter. Let us pass, then ! we are from Reims . Oh'
you are very kind,messieurs sergeants ; I love you all .
Y ou will not take my darling from me ’tis impossible .Is i t not ? qui te impossible ! My child ! My own dearchfld !
"
We shall not attempt to convey any idea of her gestures,of her tone, of the tears which she swall owed as shespoke
, of her hands which she clasped and then wrung, ofthe cutting smiles
,the moans
,the sighs
,the heartrending
shrieks which she blended with this wild, rambling, andincoheren t harangue . When she had done
,Tristan the
Hermit knitted hi s brow,but i t was to conceal a tear
which started into his tiger- like eye. Conquering thisweakness
,however
,he said in a dry tone The king
wills i t.”
Then bending to the ear of Henriet Cousin,he whis
pered Finish out of hand The redoubtable provosthimself perhaps fel t even his heart fail him .
The hangman and the sergeants en tered the’ cell. Themother made no resistance : she merely crawled towardsher daughte r
,and threw herself headlong upon her. The
Egyptian saw the soldiers approaching. The horror ofdeath roused her . Mother,
" cried she,in a tone of in
expressible anguish,mother
,they are coming ; defend
me Yes,my love
,I will defend thee
,
” replied themother in a fain t voice}; and, clasping her closely in herarms
,she covered her with kisses . Mother and daughter,
as they thus lay on the ground, presented a sight that wastruly pitiable .Henriet Cousin laid hold of the girl round the body .
When she felt the touch of his hand she shudderedHeugh and fain ted. The hangman
,from whose
eyes big tears fell drop by drop upon her,attemp ted to
li ft her, but was prevented by the mother, who had eu
twined her arms round her daughter’s wai st,
‘and clung sofi rmly to her chi ld
,that i t was impossible to part them .
Henriet Cousin,therefore, dragged the girl ou t of the cell,
G a 3
454. THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
and the mother after her - the latter,too
,wi th her eyes
shut, and apparen tly insensible.The sun was just then rising, and a considerable num
ber of people coll ected thus early in the Place were strivingto make ou t what i t was that the hangman was thus dragging along the pavemen t towards the gibbet : for i t wasTristan’s way to prevent the near approach of spectatorsat execu ti ons.There was not a creature at the windows. There
were only to be seen on the top of that tower of NotreDame whi ch overlooks the Greve
,two men standing ou t
in dark relief from the clear morning sky,who appeared to
be looking on.
Henriet Cousin stopped with what he was dragging atthe foot of the fatal ladder, and scarcely breathing, so
deeply was b e affected, he slipped the cord about thelovely neck of the girl. The unfortunate creature felt thehorrid touch of the rope . She Opened her eyes, and beheld the hideous arm of the stone gibbet ex tended over herhead . Rousing herself
,she cried in a loud and heart- rend
ing voice,
No l no I will not .”The mother, whose
face was buried in her daughter’s garments, uttered not aword ; her whole body was seen to tremble, and she washeard to ki ss her child with redoubled fervency. Thehangman took advantage of this momen t to wrenchasunder her arms with which she had clung to the condemned girl . E i ther from exhaustion , or despair
,she
made no resistance. He then lifted the damsel on hisshoulder, from which the charming creature hung gracefully on ei ther side
,and began to ascend the ladder.
At that momen t the mother,crouched on the pavement
,
opened her eyes . Without u ttering any cry, she Sprangup with a terrifi c look ; then, like a beast of prey, sheseized the hand of the hangman and hit him . I t waslike lightning. The executioner roared with pain . Someof the sergeants ran to him . With difficulty they ex tricated his bleeding hand from the teeth of the mother.She mainta ined profound silence. They thrust her backin a brutal manner
,and i t was remarked that her head fell
he avily upon the pavement. They lifted her up, butagain she sank to the ground. She was dead.
m u nuncunaox or NON E-DAME . 455
The hangman, who had not se t down the girl, co ntinuedto mount the ladder.
CHAPTER I I .
LA CREATURA BELLA B IANCO vnsrrra .
WHEN Quasimodo as certained that the cell was vacant,that
the Egyptian was not there, and that while he was defending her she had been taken away
,he grasped his head with
both hands,and stamped wi th rage and astonishmen t : he
then began to run all over the church in ques t of the B0hemian
,setting up strange shouts at every corner, and
s trewing his red hair upon the pavement. I t was the verymoment when the king’s archers entered the cathedral vi ctorious , also seeking the Egyptian . Quasimodo assistedthem
,having no suspicion— poor deaf creatu re — of their
fatal in ten tions : i t was the Vagabond crew whom b e
regarded as the enemies of the Egyptian . He himselfconducted T ris tan the Hermit to every possible place of
concealment, opened for him all the secret doors, the doublebottomed al ta rs
,and the back sacristies. Had the unfor
tunate girl been still there he must inevi tably have be trayedher. When Tristan was tired of the unsuccessful se arch— and on such occasions he was not soon tired— Quasimodo continued i t alone . He traversed the church twen tytimes, a hundred times, lengthwise and breadthwise, fromtop to bottom,
mounting,descending
,running
,calling
,cry
ing, shouting, ferreting, rummaging, poking his head in toevery hole, thrusting a torch into every dark corner, dis.tracted, mad . At length
,when he was sure, quite sure,
that she was no longer there, that she had been stolen awayfrom him, he slowly ascended the tower- stairs, those stai rswhich he had mounted with such transport and exultationon the day that he saved her. He again passed that way,with drooping head
,voiceless
,tearless
,almost unbreathing.
The church was once more clear, and silence again reignede e 4
rm : no x cnnacu or NOTRE-DAME. 457
an empty cradle and a full coffin . He uttered not a word ;only at long intervals a sob violen tly shook his whole body,butit was a sob without tears, like those summer lightningswhich make no noi se .I t appears that then
,seeking in his doleful reverie to
discover who could thus unexpectedl y have carried off theEgyptian
,he bethought himself of the archdeacon . He
recollected that none but Dom C laude had a key to thestaircase leading to the cell he called to mind his nocturnal attempts upon the damsel
,in the first of which he
,
Quasimodo,himself had assisted, and the second of which
he had frustrated he called to mind a thousand other circums tances
,and soon felt not the least doubt that i t was
the archdeacon who had taken the girl from him . Such ,however
,was his respect for the priest
,so deeply had
gratitude, affection, love, for that man struck root in hisheart
,that even at this momen t they withstood the tugs of
j ealousy and despai r.He considered that the archdeacon had done this
,and
instead of the mortal rancour with which the though twould have fill ed his heart for any other
,the moment i t
fixed upon C laude Frollo, i t only aggravated his grief.At this moment
,when the dawn began to whi ten the fly
ing buttresse s, he descried on a higher story of the cathedral, at the angle formed by the outer balustrade whichruns round the apsis
,a figure in motion . The face of
this figure was turned towards him. He recogni sed theperson . I t was the archdeacon . Claude’s s tep wasgrave and deliberate . He looked not before him as h ewalked towards the north tower : but his face was turnedaskance towards the right bank of the Seine
,as i f he were
s tri ving to see something over the intervening roofs . Theowl frequently has this oblique attitude
,flying in"one di
rection and looking in another. The priest thus passedon above Quasimodo without perceiving him .
The hunchback,petrified by this sudden apparition
,
watched till he lost sight of him at the door of the staircase of the north tower. The reader already knows thatthi s is the tower which commands a v iew of the Hotel-deVil le. Quasimodo rose and followed the archdeacon .
458 THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME .
He went up the stai rs to a scend the tower, for the purpose of ascertaining why the pries t ascended i t if indeedthe poor bell-ringer, who knew not what he did, or what hewished
,could be said to have any purpose. He was full
of rage and full of apprehension . The archdeacon andthe Egyptian clashed together in his heart.When he had reached the top of the tower, before he
i ssued from the darkness of the staircase and stepped ou tupon the platform , he looked cautiously about to discoverwhere the priest was. Claude had his back towards him .
A balustrade of open work surrounds the platform of the
s teeple . The priest, whose eyes were bent upon the town,was leaning with hi s breas t against that corner of the balustrade which looks down upon the bridge of NotreDame.Quasimodo stole with wolf’s s tep behind him
,to see
what he was thus looking at. The attention of the priestwas so completely engrossed that he perceived not the approach of the hunchback.Paris, viewed from the towers of Notre-Dame in the
cool dawn of a summer morning,is a charming and a mag
nificent sight and the Paris of that period must havebeen eminently so. I t was then the mon th of July. Thesky was perfectly serene . A few lingering stars weregoing out at different points, and there was still a verybright one in the east in the lightest part of the firmam ent.
The sun was just rising. Paris began to ' be astir. A verywhi te and a very pure light presented conspicuously to theeye the faces which i ts thousand houses turn towards theeast. The giant shadows of the steeples extended fromroof to roo f
,from one end of the great city to the other.
There were quarters which already began to send forth various sounds. Here was heard the hammer of the smith,there that of the carpenter
,and yonder the compli cated
creaking of a cart as i t passed along the street. A fewcolumns of smoke issued from different points of this vastsurface of roofs, as from the fissures of an immense solfatara. The ri ver which dashes i ts waters against the piersof so many bridges
,and the points of so many islands, was
s treaked wi th lines of silver. Around the C ity, beyond
rnn HUNCHBACK or nou n-DAME . 459
the ramparts,the sight was lost in a wide circle of fleecy
vapours,through which might be fain tly discerned the in
defini te line of the plains and the graceful swelling of thehill s. All sorts of sounds floated confusedly over thishalf- awakened ci ty . Towards the east the morning breezeedrove across the sky a few white flakes ren t from the mantle of mist that enwrapped the hi lls .
In the Parvi s,certain stirring housewives, wi th milk
jugs in their hands,pointed out to each other with asto
nishment the shattered state of the great portal of NotreDame and the two streams of lead congealed in the
intersti ces between the stones of the pavement. Thesewere the only vestiges of the tumult of the past night.The fi re kindled by Quasimodo between the towers wasextinguished . Tristan had already caused the Place to becleared
,and the dead to be thrown into the Seine. Such
kings as Louis X I. take care to have the pavemen t speedilywashed after a massacre.Outside the balustrade of the tower
,below the very
poin t where the priest had stepped, there was one of thosestone gutters fan tasti cally carved
,with which Gothi c edi
fices are bristled,and in a crevi ce of this gutter were two
fine wal l-flowers in blossom,which waved
,and
,as if they
were animated by the breeze, seemed to be sporti vely bowing to each other . Above the towers, al oft in the ai r, smallbirds were heard twittering and screaming.
But the prie st neither heard nor saw any of these things .He was one of those who take no noti ce ei ther of mornings
,
or of birds,or of flowers . His con templation was engross ed
by one only point of that immense hori zon,which pre
sented so many aspects around him .
Quasimodo burned wi th impatien ce to inquire what hehad done wi th the Egyptian
,but the archdeacon seemed
at that moment to be out of the world . With him i t wasevidently one of those criti cal moments of life, when a manwould not feel the earth crumbling beneath his feet. He
remained motionless and silen t, with his eyes invariablyfixed on a parti cular spot and this silence and this motionless atti tude had something so formidable that the savagebell- ringer himself shuddered before and durs t not di s
run HUNCHBAOK or NOTRE-DAME. 46 1
hands into the abyss,over whi ch Dom Claude was leaning.
Damnation cried the priest as he fell .The gutter beneath caught him and broke the fall . He
clung to i t with eager hands,and was just opening his
mouth to give a second cry,when he beheld the formidable
and avenging face of Quasimodo protruded over the balustrade above hi s head . He was then silent .The abyss was beneath him a fall of more than two
hundred fee t and the pavemen t ! I n this terrible situation,
the archdeacon uttered neither word nor groan . Suspendedfrom the gutter
,he wriggled
,and made incredible efforts
to raise himself upon i t : but his hands had no holdof the grani te, and his toes merely streaked the blackenedwall without finding the least support. All who have everbeen up the towers of None-Dame know that the stonebellies immediately under the balustrade. I t was againstthe retreating slope that the wretched archdeacon exhaustedhimself in fruitless efforts . He had not to do with a per
pendicular wall, but a wall that receded from him .
Quasimodo might have withdrawn him from the gulf bymerely reaching him his hand : but he did not so much aslook at him . He looked a t t he Greve. He looked at theEgyptian. He looked at the gibbet . The hunchback wasleaning upon the balustrade, at the very spot which thearchdeacon had just before occupied ; and there, neverturning his eye from the only object which existed for himat that moment, he was motionless and mute as one thunders truck whilst a stream flowed in silence from that eye
,
which till then had not shed a single tear.The archdeacon meanwhile began to pan t. The per
spiration tri ckled from his bald brow,the blood oozed from
his fingers ’ ends the skin was rubbed from his knee sagainst the wall . He heard his cassock, which hung bythe gutter, crack and rip at every movemen t that he made .T o crown his misery, that gutter terminated in a leadenpipe which bent wi th his weight. The archdeacon felt i tsl owly giving way . The wretched man said to himself
,
that when his cassock should be rent,when the leaden
pipe should yield, he must fall , and horror thrill ed hisentrails . At times he wildly eyed a sort of narrow ledge
,
THE HUNCHBACK or NOTRE-DAME.
formed about ten feet below him by the archi tec tural embellishments of the church, and in his di stress he prayed toHeaven in the recesses of his soul
,to permi t him to end
his life on this space of two square feet, were i t even tolast a hundred years. Once he glanced at the abyss be.neath him when he rai sed his head his eyes were closedand his hair s tanding erect.There was something frightful in the silence of these
two persons . While the archdeacon,at the di stance of a
few feet,was experiencing the most horrible agonies
,Qua
sim odo kept his eye fixed on the Greve and wept.The archdeacon, perceiving that all his exertions served
but to shake the only frail support that was left him,de
termined to stir no more. There he was, clasping thegutter
,scarcely breathing, absolutely motionless save that
mechanical convulsion of the abdomen which supervenes insleep, when you dream that you are falling. His fixed eyesglared in a wild and ghastly manner. Meanwhile he beganto lose his hold : his fingers slipped down the gutter : hefelt his arms becoming weaker and weaker
,and his body
heavier and heavier. The leaden pipe which supportedhim bent more and more every moment towards the abyss .Beneath him he beheld horrid sight the roof of St.Jean- le-Rond, diminutive as a card bent in two . He eyedone after another the passionless sculptures of the tower,suspended like himself over the abyss, but wi thout fear forthemselves or pity for him. All about him was stonebefore his eyes gaping monsters ; under him,
at the bottom of the gulph, the pavement over hi s head Quasimodoweeping.I n the Parvis several groups of curious spectators were
calmly puzzling their brains to divine who coul d be themaniac that was amusing himself in this strange manner.The priest heard them say
, for their voices reached him,clear and sharp
,By ’r Lady
,he must break hi s neck
Quasimodo wept.At length the archdeacon, foaming with rage and terror,
became sensible that all was useles s . He nevertheless mustered all his remaining strength for a last effort. Settingboth his knees agains t the wall, he hooked his hands into
'm n nunonnacx or arom a-Damn. 463
a cleft in the stones, and succeeded in raising himself abouta foot ; but this struggle caus ed the leaden beak whi chsupported him to give way suddenly. His cassock wasripped up from the same cause . Feeling himself sinking,having only his stiffened and crippled hands to hold by,the wretched man closed his eyes, and presen tly his fingersrelaxed their grasp. Down he fell !Quasimodo watched him falling.
A fall from such a height is rarely perpendicular. Thearchdeacon, launched into the abyss, fell at firs t head downward and with outstre tched arms
,and then whirled several
times over and over ; dropping upon the roof of a house,and breaking some of his bones . He was not dead whenhe reached i t, for the bell- ringer saw him strive to grapplethe ridge with hi s fingers but the sloPe was too steep, andhis strength utterly failed him . Sliding rapidly down theroof, like a tile that has got loose, down he went, and re
bounded ou the pavement. He never stirred more .Quasimodo then raised his eye to the Egyptian
,dangling
from the gallows . At that distan ce he cou ld see her quiverbeneath her whi te robe in the las t convulsive agonies of
death ; he then looked down at the archdeacon, stretchedat the foot of the tower
,with scarcely a ves tige of the hu
man form about him,and
,heaving a deep sigh
,he cried
,
There is all I ever loved
CHAPTER I I I.
MARRIAGE OF CAPTA IN PHG BUS.
TOW ARDS the evening of the same day,when the judicial
oflicers of the bishop came to remove the mangled corpseof the archdeacon from the pavement of the Parvis
, Qua.simodo was not to be found in Notre-Dame.Many rumou rs were circulated respecting thi s affair.
The general opinion was that the day had arri ved when,
ran HUNCl l BACK or NOTRE-DAME . 465
ancient and the most superb gallows in the kingdom.
Between the faubourgs of the Temple and St. Martin,
about one hundred and sixty fathoms from the walls ofParis
,and a few cross -bow shots from la Courtill e,
was seen at the top of a gen tle, imperceptible rise, yetsufficien tly elevated to be seen for several leagues round
,a
building of strange form , nearly resembling a Celti ccromlech
,and where also human victims were sacrificed.
Figure to yourself on the top of a mound of chalk aclumsy parallelopipedon of masonry, fifte en fee t high, fortylong, and thirty wide, with a door, an outer railing, and a
platform upon this platform sixteen massive pillars of
unhewn stone,thirty fee t high
,ranged in form of a colon
nade round three of the four sides of the masonry whichsupports them
,connected at top by strong beams, from
which at certain distances hang chains,each having a ske
leton dangling at the end of i t ; round about i t in the plai na stone cross and two gibbets of secondary rank, whichseem to spring up like shoots from the cen tral stock aboveall these in the atmosphere crows perpetually flying andyou will have a picture of Montfaucon .At the conclusion of the fifteenth century, this formi
dab le gibbet, which dated from 1 328, was already verydecrepit : the beams were rotten the chains eaten up withrust ; the pill ars green wi th moss ; there were wide in ters tice s between the courses of the stone ; and grass grewupon the un trodden platform . The profile of this edificeupon the sky was a horrible one, especially at nigh t, whenthe faint moonlight fell upon those bleached skul ls, or whenthe night-bree ze, shaking the chains and the skeletons, madethem rattle in the dark . The presence of this gibbe t wassufficien t to induce a belief that all the environs werehaunted.The stone-work which served as a base to the odious edi
fice was hollow. Here had been formed a vas t vaul t,
closed by an old crazy iron gate,in to which were thrown
not only the human remains taken from the chains of
Montfaucon,but the bodies of all the wretches executed at
the o ther permanent gibbe ts of Pari s. In this vas t ch am elhouse, in which so many human carcases and so many
a n
466 THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME .
crimes have mouldered together, many of the great of theworld
,and many innocent persons
,have successively laid
their bones, from Enguerraud de Marigni, who made apresen t Of Montfaucon, and who was a good m an
,to Ad
miral de Coligni with whom it was closed,and who was al so
a good man .
Respecting the mysterious disappearan ce of Quasimodo,
all that we have been able to discover i s thisAbout a year and a hal f or two years after the events
w i th which this history concludes, when search was madein the vaul t of Montfaucon for the body Of Olivier le Da im
,
who had been hung two days previously, and to whomCharles VI I I . had granted the favour to be in terred inbetter company at St. Laurent, among these hideous carcases were found two skeletons in a singular posture. OneOf these skeletons
,which was that of a femal e
,had still
upon i t some fragments of a dress that had once beenwhi te ; and about the neck was a necklace of the seeds ofadrez arach, and a little silk bag braided with green beads,which was open and empty. These things were Of so li ttlevalue that the hangman no doubt had not thought i t worthhis while to take them . The other
,by whi ch this first was
closely embraced,was the skele ton Of a male. I t was re
marked that the spine was crooked,the head depressed be
tween the shoulders,and one leg shorter than the other.
There was however no rupture of the vertebrae Of the neck,and i t was eviden t that the person to whom it belonged hadnot been hanged. He must have come hither and died inthe place. When those who found this skele ton attemptedto disengage i t from that whi ch i t held in i ts grasp, i tcrumbled to dust.
TH E END .
LONDON
Printed by A . SPO'
rrl swoonLNew-Street-Square.
OPINIONS ON THIS WORK .
T ins last and best known of Victor Hugo's productions is in a strain of a
h igher mood than anyhe had previous ly attempted. The idea is taken fromthe Gitan i lla
‘
of Cervantes. Love is the greatest of enchantments. Th is sen.tencc seems to us to embod y the lead ing idea of the work. Love makes thelearned archdeacon forget hi s stud ies, his clerical character, his reputation forsanctity; to court the favours of a vo latile Bohem ian. Love for th is same Pa .
risran Fei ie lla softens the human savage Quas imodo— the dumb one-eyed be ll.ringer o f Notre .Dan1e and trans form s him into a de l icate monster’— a de
voted humble worsh ipper o f the Bohem ian— wh i le she, who is the cynosure ofne ighbouring eyes , the Object' of adoration to these Singular lovers, is herse lfhope less ly attached in turn to a
'
g iddy-pated captain of the guard , who can
aflbrd to love no one but h imse lf . In power Hugo is never deficient ; but certa inly noth ing in any of his former works is to be compared to his descriptionof Notre -Dame.
"— Edmbu rgli R eview.
H is writings exh ibit powerful del ineations Of character, and strik ing varieties of inc ident, wh ich W il l a lways procure him a h igh popu larity. H is ori
ginal ity is paramount above a ll The very language he use: is unl ike that ofanyother writer ; it is a lways wel l su ited to the comm on, and exh ibits so muchversa ti lity that his vocabulary, and h is power over it, are worth y of dist inctnotice. The gipsy girl
, Esmera lda, in the present work, is a fine and graceflilcreation, the origin of wh ich revi ewers have assigned severa lly to the Fenel lao f Scott, the La G i tani l la o f Cervantes, and the Mignon of Goethe. W e do
not th ink that La Esmera lda is l ik e any of these , except in mere part icles of
character. She is essentia l ly poetical , and l ies on the canvass hke a rayof sun
light : she is fu ll Of devotion, gentleness , and purity. The present I. the bestof V ictor Hugo's works.” Atla s.
The Notre -Dame of Victor Hugo must take rank W ith the best romancesby the author of W averley. If it fa ll short in cop iousness and variety of ine ident and adventure, it transcends it, on the other hand, in vi gour, animation,fami liarity with the age. The reader o f th is book se ems, as it were , listeningto his reminiscences of the time of Lou is X I. To put old Paris before our
eyes appears to be rather an act of memory than an act o f study, and he sets itforth W ith a treshness wh ich sparkles in the fancy. "I‘is centuries s ince, butthe scene has the V ividness of the present sunsh ine. Nou s-Dame abounds withcharacters any one o f wh ich wou ld have served to carry on the interest of amodern novel.”— E .mmmcr.
A work Of genius. For power it possesses few equa ls. The materials arestrange , but a master's hand has the d ispos ition Of them . Victor Hugo is
