English
ThepriestwhomtheyounggirlshadobservedatthetopoftheNorthtower,leaningoverthePlaceandsoattentivetothedanceofthegypsy,was,infact,ArchdeaconClaudeFrollo.
Ourreadershavenotforgottenthemysteriouscellwhichthearchdeaconhadreservedforhimselfinthattower.
(Idonotknow,bythewaybeitsaid,whetheritbenotthesame,theinteriorofwhichcanbeseento–daythroughalittlesquarewindow,openingtotheeastattheheightofamanabovetheplatformfromwhichthetowersspring;abareanddilapidatedden,whosebadlyplasteredwallsareornamentedhereandthere,atthepresentday,withsomewretchedyellowengravingsrepresentingthefaadesofcathedrals.
Ipresumethatthisholeisjointlyinhabitedbybatsandspiders,andthat,consequently,itwagesadoublewarofexterminationontheflies).
Everyday,anhourbeforesunset,thearchdeaconascendedthestaircasetothetower,andshuthimselfupinthiscell,wherehesometimespassedwholenights.
Thatday,atthemomentwhen,standingbeforethelowdoorofhisretreat,hewasfittingintothelockthecomplicatedlittlekeywhichhealwayscarriedabouthiminthepursesuspendedtohisside,asoundoftambourineandcastanetshadreachedhisear.
ThesesoundscamefromthePlaceduParvis.
Thecell,aswehavealreadysaid,hadonlyonewindowopeningupontherearofthechurch.
ClaudeFrollohadhastilywithdrawnthekey,andaninstantlater,hewasonthetopofthetower,inthegloomyandpensiveattitudeinwhichthemaidenshadseenhim.
Therehestood,grave,motionless,absorbedinonelookandonethought.
AllParislayathisfeet,withthethousandspiresofitsedificesanditscircularhorizonofgentlehills—withitsriverwindingunderitsbridges,anditspeoplemovingtoandfrothroughitsstreets,—withthecloudsofitssmoke,—withthemountainouschainofitsroofswhichpressesNotre–Dameinitsdoubledfolds;butout.
ofallthecity,thearchdeacongazedatonecorneronlyofthepavement,thePlaceduParvis;inallthatthrongatbutonefigure,—thegypsy.
Itwouldhavebeendifficulttosaywhatwasthenatureofthislook,andwhenceproceededtheflamethatflashedfromit.
Itwasafixedgaze,whichwas,nevertheless,fulloftroubleandtumult.
And,fromtheprofoundimmobilityofhiswholebody,barelyagitatedatintervalsbyaninvoluntaryshiver,asatreeismovedbythewind;fromthestiffnessofhiselbows,moremarblethanthebalustradeonwhichtheyleaned;orthesightofthepetrifiedsmilewhichcontractedhisface,—onewouldhavesaidthatnothinglivingwasleftaboutClaudeFrolloexcepthiseyes.
Thegypsywasdancing;shewastwirlinghertambourineonthetipofherfinger,andtossingitintotheairasshedancedProvenalsarabands;agile,light,joyous,andunconsciousoftheformidablegazewhichdescendedperpendicularlyuponherhead.
Thecrowdwasswarmingaroundher;fromtimetotime,amanaccoutredinredandyellowmadethemformintoacircle,andthenreturned,seatedhimselfonachairafewpacesfromthedancer,andtookthegoat'sheadonhisknees.
Thismanseemedtobethegypsy'scompanion.
ClaudeFrollocouldnotdistinguishhisfeaturesfromhiselevatedpost.
Fromthemomentwhenthearchdeaconcaughtsightofthisstranger,hisattentionseemeddividedbetweenhimandthedancer,andhisfacebecamemoreandmoregloomy.
Allatonceheroseupright,andaquiverranthroughhiswholebody:"Whoisthatman?"
hemutteredbetweenhisteeth:"Ihavealwaysseenheralonebefore!"
Thenheplungeddownbeneaththetortuousvaultofthespiralstaircase,andoncemoredescended.
Ashepassedthedoorofthebellchamber,whichwasajar,besawsomethingwhichstruckhim;hebeheldQuasimodo,who,leaningthroughanopeningofoneofthoseslatepenthouseswhichresembleenormousblinds,appearedalsotobegazingatthePlace.
Hewasengagedinsoprofoundacontemplation,thathedidnotnoticethepassageofhisadoptedfather.
Hissavageeyehadasingularexpression;itwasacharmed,tenderlook."Thisisstrange!"murmuredClaude.
"Isitthegypsyatwhomheisthusgazing?"Hecontinuedhisdescent.
Attheendofafewminutes,theanxiousarchdeaconentereduponthePlacefromthedooratthebaseofthetower.
"Whathasbecomeofthegypsygirl?"hesaid,minglingwiththegroupofspectatorswhichthesoundofthetambourinehadcollected.
"Iknownot,"repliedoneofhisneighbors,"Ithinkthatshehasgonetomakesomeofherfandangoesinthehouseopposite,whithertheyhavecalledher."
Intheplaceofthegypsy,onthecarpet,whosearabesqueshadseemedtovanishbutamomentpreviouslybythecapriciousfiguresofherdance,thearchdeaconnolongerbeheldanyonebuttheredandyellowman,who,inordertoearnafewtestersinhisturn,waswalkingroundthecircle,withhiselbowsonhiships,hisheadthrownback,hisfacered,hisneckoutstretched,withachairbetweenhisteeth.
Tothechairhehadfastenedacat,whichaneighborhadlent,andwhichwasspittingingreataffright.
"Notre–Dame!"exclaimedthearchdeacon,atthemomentwhenthejuggler,perspiringheavily,passedinfrontofhimwithhispyramidofchairandhiscat,"WhatisMasterPierreGringoiredoinghere?"
Theharshvoiceofthearchdeaconthrewthepoorfellowintosuchacommotionthathelosthisequilibrium,togetherwithhiswholeedifice,andthechairandthecattumbledpell–mellupontheheadsofthespectators,inthemidstofinextinguishablehootings.
ItisprobablethatMasterPierreGringoire(foritwasindeedhe)wouldhavehadasorryaccounttosettlewiththeneighborwhoownedthecat,andallthebruisedandscratchedfaceswhichsurroundedhim,ifhehadnothastenedtoprofitbythetumulttotakerefugeinthechurch,whitherClaudeFrollohadmadehimasigntofollowhim.
Thecathedralwasalreadydarkanddeserted;theside–aisleswerefullofshadows,andthelampsofthechapelsbegantoshineoutlikestars,soblackhadthevaultedceilingbecome.
Onlythegreatrosewindowofthefaade,whosethousandcolorsweresteepedinarayofhorizontalsunlight,glitteredinthegloomlikeamassofdiamonds,andthrewitsdazzlingreflectiontotheotherendofthenave.
Whentheyhadadvancedafewpaces,DomClaudeplacedhisbackagainstapillar,andgazedintentlyatGringoire.
ThegazewasnottheonewhichGringoirefeared,ashamedashewasofhavingbeencaughtbyagraveandlearnedpersoninthecostumeofabuffoon.
Therewasnothingmockingorironicalinthepriest'sglance,itwasserious,tranquil,piercing.
Thearchdeaconwasthefirsttobreakthesilence.
"Comenow,MasterPierre.Youaretoexplainmanythingstome.
Andfirstofall,howcomesitthatyouhavenotbeenseenfortwomonths,andthatnowonefindsyouinthepublicsquares,inafineequipmentintruth!
Motleyredandyellow,likeaCaudebecapple?"
"Messire,"saidGringoire,piteously,"itis,infact,anamazingaccoutrement.
Youseemenomorecomfortableinitthanacatcoiffedwithacalabash.
'Tisveryilldone,Iamconscious,toexposemessieursthesergeantsofthewatchtotheliabilityofcudgellingbeneaththiscassockthehumerusofaPythagoreanphilosopher.
Butwhatwouldyouhave,myreverendmaster?
'tisthefaultofmyancientjerkin,whichabandonedmeincowardlywise,atthebeginningofthewinter,underthepretextthatitwasfallingintotatters,andthatitrequiredreposeinthebasketofarag–picker.Whatisonetodo?
Civilizationhasnotyetarrivedatthepointwhereonecangostarknaked,asancientDiogeneswished.
Addthataverycoldwindwasblowing,and'tisnotinthemonthofJanuarythatonecansuccessfullyattempttomakehumanitytakethisnewstep.
Thisgarmentpresenteditself,Itookit,andIleftmyancientblacksmock,which,forahermeticlikemyself,wasfarfrombeinghermeticallyclosed.
Beholdmethen,inthegarmentsofastage–player,likeSaintGenest.Whatwouldyouhave?'tisaneclipse.
ApollohimselftendedtheflocksofAdmetus."
"'Tisafineprofessionthatyouareengagedin!"repliedthearchdeacon.
"Iagree,mymaster,that'tisbettertophilosophizeandpoetize,toblowtheflameinthefurnace,ortoreceiveitfromcarrycatsonashield.
So,whenyouaddressedme,Iwasasfoolishasanassbeforeaturnspit.Butwhatwouldyouhave,messire?
Onemusteateveryday,andthefinestAlexandrineversesarenotworthabitofBriecheese.
Now,ImadeforMadameMargueriteofFlanders,thatfamousepithalamium,asyouknow,andthecitywillnotpayme,underthepretextthatitwasnotexcellent;asthoughonecouldgiveatragedyofSophoclesforfourcrowns!
Hence,Iwasonthepointofdyingwithhunger.
Happily,IfoundthatIwasratherstronginthejaw;soIsaidtothisjaw,—performsomefeatsofstrengthandofequilibrium:nourishthyself.~Aleteipsam~.
Apackofbeggarswhohavebecomemygoodfriends,havetaughtmetwentysortsofherculeanfeats,andnowIgivetomyteetheveryeveningthebreadwhichtheyhaveearnedduringthedaybythesweatofmybrow.
Afterall,concede,Igrantthatitisasademploymentformyintellectualfaculties,andthatmanisnotmadetopasshislifeinbeatingthetambourineandbitingchairs.
But,reverendmaster,itisnotsufficienttopassone'slife,onemustearnthemeansforlife.''
DomClaudelistenedinsilence.Allatoncehisdeep–seteyeassumedsosagaciousandpenetratinganexpression,thatGringoirefelthimself,sotospeak,searchedtothebottomofthesoulbythatglance.
"Verygood,MasterPierre;buthowcomesitthatyouarenowincompanywiththatgypsydancer?"
"Infaith!"saidGringoire,"'tisbecausesheismywifeandIamherhusband."
Thepriest'sgloomyeyesflashedintoflame.
"Haveyoudonethat,youwretch!"hecried,seizingGringoire'sarmwithfury;"haveyoubeensoabandonedbyGodastoraiseyourhandagainstthatgirl?"
"Onmychanceofparadise,monseigneur,"repliedGringoire,tremblingineverylimb,"IsweartoyouthatIhavenevertouchedher,ifthatiswhatdisturbsyou."
"Thenwhydoyoutalkofhusbandandwife?"saidthepriest.
Gringoiremadehastetorelatetohimassuccinctlyaspossible,allthatthereaderalreadyknows,hisadventureintheCourtofMiraclesandthebroken–crockmarriage.
Itappeared,moreover,thatthismarriagehadledtonoresultswhatever,andthateacheveningthegypsygirlcheatedhimofhisnuptialrightasonthefirstday."
'Tisamortification,"hesaidinconclusion,"butthatisbecauseIhavehadthemisfortunetowedavirgin."
"Whatdoyoumean?"demandedthearchdeacon,whohadbeengraduallyappeasedbythisrecital.
"'Tisverydifficulttoexplain,"repliedthepoet."Itisasuperstition.
Mywifeis,accordingtowhatanoldthief,whoiscalledamongustheDukeofEgypt,hastoldme,afoundlingoralostchild,whichisthesamething.
Shewearsonherneckanamuletwhich,itisaffirmed,willcausehertomeetherparentssomeday,butwhichwillloseitsvirtueiftheyounggirlloseshers.
Henceitfollowsthatbothofusremainveryvirtuous."
"So,"resumedClaude,whosebrowclearedmoreandmore,"youbelieve,MasterPierre,thatthiscreaturehasnotbeenapproachedbyanyman?"
"Whatwouldyouhaveamando,DomClaude,asagainstasuperstition?Shehasgotthatinherhead.
IassuredlyesteemasararitythisnunlikepruderywhichispreserveduntamedamidthoseBohemiangirlswhoaresoeasilybroughtintosubjection.
Butshehasthreethingstoprotecther:theDukeofEgypt,whohastakenherunderhissafeguard,reckoning,perchance,onsellinghertosomegayabbé;allhistribe,whoholdherinsingularveneration,likeaNotre–Dame;andacertaintinypoignard,whichthebuxomdamealwayswearsabouther,insomenook,inspiteoftheordinancesoftheprovost,andwhichonecausestoflyoutintoherhandsbysqueezingherwaist.
'Tisaproudwasp,Icantellyou!"
ThearchdeaconpressedGringoirewithquestions.
LaEsmeralda,inthejudgmentofGringoire,wasaninoffensiveandcharmingcreature,pretty,withtheexceptionofapoutwhichwaspeculiartoher;anaïveandpassionatedamsel,ignorantofeverythingandenthusiasticabouteverything;notyetawareofthedifferencebetweenamanandawoman,eveninherdreams;madelikethat;wildespeciallyoverdancing,noise,theopenair;asortofwomanbee,withinvisiblewingsonherfeet,andlivinginawhirlwind.
Sheowedthisnaturetothewanderinglifewhichshehadalwaysled.
Gringoirehadsucceededinlearningthat,whileamerechild,shehadtraversedSpainandCatalonia,eventoSicily;hebelievedthatshehadevenbeentakenbythecaravanofZingari,ofwhichsheformedapart,tothekingdomofAlgiers,acountrysituatedinAchaia,whichcountryadjoins,ononesideAlbaniaandGreece;ontheother,theSicilianSea,whichistheroadtoConstantinople.
TheBohemians,saidGringoire,werevassalsoftheKingofAlgiers,inhisqualityofchiefoftheWhiteMoors.
Onethingiscertain,thatlaEsmeraldahadcometoFrancewhilestillveryyoung,bywayofHungary.
Fromallthesecountriestheyounggirlhadbroughtbackfragmentsofqueerjargons,songs,andstrangeideas,whichmadeherlanguageasmotleyashercostume,halfParisian,halfAfrican.
However,thepeopleofthequarterswhichshefrequentedlovedherforhergayety,herdaintiness,herlivelymanners,herdances,andhersongs.
Shebelievedherselftobehated,inallthecity,bybuttwopersons,ofwhomsheoftenspokeinterror:thesackednunoftheTour–Roland,avillanousreclusewhocherishedsomesecretgrudgeagainstthesegypsies,andwhocursedthepoordancereverytimethatthelatterpassedbeforeherwindow;andapriest,whonevermetherwithoutcastingatherlooksandwordswhichfrightenedher.
Thementionofthislastcircumstancedisturbedthearchdeacongreatly,thoughGringoirepaidnoattentiontohisperturbation;tosuchanextenthadtwomonthssufficedtocausetheheedlesspoettoforgetthesingulardetailsoftheeveningonwhichhehadmetthegypsy,andthepresenceofthearchdeaconinitall.
Otherwise,thelittledancerfearednothing;shedidnottellfortunes,whichprotectedheragainstthosetrialsformagicwhichweresofrequentlyinstitutedagainstgypsywomen.
Andthen,Gringoireheldthepositionofherbrother,ifnotofherhusband.
Afterall,thephilosopherenduredthissortofplatonicmarriageverypatiently.Itmeantashelterandbreadatleast.
Everymorning,hesetoutfromthelairofthethieves,generallywiththegypsy;hehelpedhermakehercollectionsoftarges*andlittleblanks**inthesquares;eacheveninghereturnedtothesameroofwithher,allowedhertoboltherselfintoherlittlechamber,andsleptthesleepofthejust.
Averysweetexistence,takingitallinall,hesaid,andwelladaptedtorevery.
Andthen,onhissoulandconscience,thephilosopherwasnotverysurethathewasmadlyinlovewiththegypsy.Helovedhergoatalmostasdearly.
Itwasacharminganimal,gentle,intelligent,clever;alearnedgoat.
NothingwasmorecommonintheMiddleAgesthantheselearnedanimals,whichamazedpeoplegreatly,andoftenledtheirinstructorstothestake.
Butthewitchcraftofthegoatwiththegoldenhoofswasaveryinnocentspeciesofmagic.
Gringoireexplainedthemtothearchdeacon,whomthesedetailsseemedtointerestdeeply.
Inthemajorityofcases,itwassufficienttopresentthetambourinetothegoatinsuchorsuchamanner,inordertoobtainfromhimthetrickdesired.
Hehadbeentrainedtothisbythegypsy,whopossessed,inthesedelicatearts,sorareatalentthattwomonthshadsufficedtoteachthegoattowrite,withmovableletters,theword"Phoebus."
*AnancientBurgundiancoin.
**AnancientFrenchcoin.
"'Phoebus!'"saidthepriest;"why'Phoebus'?"
"Iknownot,"repliedGringoire."Perhapsitisawordwhichshebelievestobeendowedwithsomemagicandsecretvirtue.Sheoftenrepeatsitinalowtonewhenshethinksthatsheisalone."
"Areyousure,"persistedClaude,withhispenetratingglance,"thatitisonlyawordandnotaname?"
"Thenameofwhom?"saidthepoet.
"HowshouldIknow?"saidthepriest.
"ThisiswhatIimagine,messire.TheseBohemiansaresomethinglikeGuebrs,andadorethesun.Hence,Phoebus."
"Thatdoesnotseemsocleartomeastoyou,MasterPierre."
"Afterall,thatdoesnotconcernme.LethermumbleherPhoebusatherpleasure.Onethingiscertain,thatDjalilovesmealmostasmuchashedoesher."
"WhoisDjali?"
"Thegoat."
Thearchdeacondroppedhischinintohishand,andappearedtoreflectforamoment.AllatonceheturnedabruptlytoGringoireoncemore.
"Anddoyousweartomethatyouhavenottouchedher?"
"Whom?"saidGringoire;"thegoat?"
"No,thatwoman."
"Mywife?IsweartoyouthatIhavenot."
"Youareoftenalonewithher?"
"Agoodhoureveryevening."
PornClaudefrowned.
"Oh!oh!~SoluscumsolanoncogitabunturorarePaterNoster~."
"Uponmysoul,Icouldsaythe~Pater~,andthe~AveMaria~,andthe~CredoinDeumpatremomnipotentem~withoutherpayinganymoreattentiontomethanachickentoachurch."
"Sweartome,bythebodyofyourmother,"repeatedthearchdeaconviolently,"thatyouhavenottouchedthatcreaturewitheventhetipofyourfinger."
"Iwillalsoswearitbytheheadofmyfather,forthetwothingshavemoreaffinitybetweenthem.But,myreverendmaster,permitmeaquestioninmyturn."
"Speak,sir."
"Whatconcernisitofyours?"
Thearchdeacon'spalefacebecameascrimsonasthecheekofayounggirl.Heremainedforamomentwithoutanswering;then,withvisibleembarrassment,—
"Listen,MasterPierreGringoire.Youarenotyetdamned,sofarasIknow.
Itakeaninterestinyou,andwishyouwell.
NowtheleastcontactwiththatEgyptianofthedemonwouldmakeyouthevassalofSatan.
Youknowthat'tisalwaysthebodywhichruinsthesoul.Woetoyouifyouapproachthatwoman!Thatisall."
"Itriedonce,"saidGringoire,scratchinghisear;"itwasthefirstday:butIgotstung."
"Youweresoaudacious,MasterPierre?"andthepriest'sbrowcloudedoveragain.
"Onanotheroccasion,"continuedthepoet,withasmile,"Ipeepedthroughthekeyhole,beforegoingtobed,andIbeheldthemostdeliciousdameinhershiftthatevermadeabedcreakunderherbarefoot."
"Gotothedevil!"criedthepriest,withaterriblelook;and,givingtheamazedGringoireapushontheshoulders,heplunged,withlongstrides,underthegloomiestarcadesofthecathedral.
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