ESMERALDA
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
- Esmeralda.
- Phœbus de Chateaupers.
- Claude Frollo.
- Quasimodo.
- Fleur-de-lys.
- Madame Aloise de Gondelaurier.
- Diana.
- Bérangère.
- Viscount de Gif.
- M. de Chevreuse.
- M. de Morlaix.
- Clopin Frouillefou.
- The Town-Crier.
Populace, Vagrants, Archers, etc.
ESMERALDA
ACT I
Scene.—The Court of Miracles. It is night. A crowd of vagrants. Noisy dancing. Male and female beggars in different attitudes of their profession. The King of Thune on his cask. Fires, lights, torches. In the shadow a circle of wretched dwellings
SCENE I
Claude Frollo, Clopin Frouillefou, then Esmeralda, then Quasimodo. The Vagrants
CHORUS OF VAGRANTS.
Long live Clopin! Long live the King of Thune!
Long live the rogues of Paris.
Let us strike our blows at dusk—
The hour when all the cats are drunk.
Let us dance! Defy Pope and bull,
And let us laugh in our skins,
Whether April wets or June burns
The feathers in our caps.
Let us smell from afar
The shot of the avenging archer,
Or the bag of money which passes
On the back of the traveler.
In the light of the moon,
We will go dance with the spirits.
Long live Clopin, King of Thune!
Long live the rogues of Paris!
CLAUDE FROLLO (apart behind a pillar in a corner of the stage. He is covered with a long cloak which hides his priestly garb).
In the midst of this infamous band
What matters the sigh of a soul?
I suffer! Oh, never did fiercer flame
Burn in the bowels of a volcano.
[Esmeralda enters, dancing.
CHORUS.
There she is! There she is! It is she—Esmeralda!
CLAUDE FROLLO (aside).
It is she! oh, yes—'tis she!
Wherefore, relentless fate,
Made you her so beautiful,
Me—so unfortunate?
[She reaches the center of the stage. The Vagrants form an admiring circle around her.
ESMERALDA.
An orphan am I,
Child of woe,
To you I turn
And flowers throw!
In my wild joy
Sad sighs abide;
I show a smile,
The tears I hide.
Poor girl—I dance
Where brooklets run,
As chirp the birds
My song flows on:
I am the dove
Which, hurt, must fall;
Over my cradle
Hangs death's pall.
CHORUS.
Young girl, dance on!
More gentle you make us.
Take us for family,
And play with us,
As stoops the nightingale
Unto the sea,
Teasing its waves
To ecstasy.
'Tis the young girl—
Child of woe,
When beams her eye
Grief must go.
She's like the bee
Which trembling flies
To the flower's heart,
Its Paradise.
Young girl, dance on!
More gentle you make us.
Take us for family,
And play with us!
CLAUDE FROLLO (aside).
Tremble, young girl—
The priest is jealous.
[Claude attempts to draw near to Esmeralda; she turns away from him with a kind of horror. The procession of the Pope of Fools enters. Torches, lanterns and music. In the middle of the procession, upon a litter surrounded with candles, Quasimodo, decked with cope and miter, is carried.
CHORUS.
Salute him, clerks of Vasoche!
Shell-heaps, lubbers, beggars!
Salute him, all of you! He comes.
Behold the Pope of Fools!
CLAUDE FROLLO (perceiving Quasimodo, and starting toward him with a gesture of anger).
Quasimodo! What a strange part to play! Profanation! Here—Quasimodo!
QUASIMODO.
Great God! what do I hear?
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Come here, I tell you.
QUASIMODO (jumping from the litter).
Here I am!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Be anathematized!
QUASIMODO.
God! it is himself!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Outrageous audacity!
QUASIMODO.
Moment of terror.
CLAUDE FROLLO.
To your knees, traitor!
QUASIMODO.
Pardon me, Master!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
No! I am a priest.
[Claude Frollo tears off Quasimodo's pontifical ornaments, and crushes them underfoot. The Vagrants begin to murmur; they form menacing groups around him; he looks at them angrily.
THE VAGRANTS.
He threatens us,
O comrades!
Here in this place,
Where we reign.
QUASIMODO.
What means the audacity
Of these robbers?
They menace him,
But we shall see!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Race unclean,
You menace me.
Robbers—Jews—
But we shall see!
[The anger of The Vagrants bursts forth.
THE VAGRANTS.
Stop! stop! stop!
Down with the mar-joy!
He shall pay for it with his head;
In vain he defends himself.
QUASIMODO.
Have respect for his head.
Let every one cease,
Or I change this festival
To a bloody battle.
CLAUDE FROLLO.
It is not about his head
That Frollo is troubled.
[Puts his hand on his heart.
There is the tempest,
There is the battle!
[At the moment when The Vagrants' fury has reached its highest pitch, Clopin Frouillefou appears at the back of the stage.
CLOPIN.
Who in this infamous den
Dares to attack my lord the Archdeacon,
And Quasimodo, bell-ringer
Of Notre Dame?
THE VAGRANTS (subsiding).
It is Clopin, our King!
CLOPIN.
Clowns! Be off!
THE VAGRANTS.
We must obey!
CLOPIN.
Leave us!
[The Vagrants retire to their hovels. The Court of Miracles appears deserted. Clopin approaches Claude cautiously.