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BELL CHIMES
CHOIR SINGS
CHURCH BELL CHIMES
I've never heard a more beautiful Angelus.
Who is the bellringer of Notre Dame?
Quasimodo, Your Majesty.
The people simply call him 'The Hunchback'.
Quasimodo? Hm. What an odd name.
And now, Master Fisher, let's see what reason my High Justice had
for asking me to come to your shop.
What do you call this apparatus?
The German inventor Gutenberg calls it a 'printing press', Your Majesty.
What is it for?
To print books, Your Majesty. For whom?
For the people. They will learn to read when they can get books.
I can print a volume like this one in a few weeks
and quite inexpensively.
Imagine, Frollo, a few weeks.
When I ordered my prayer book, it took them years to copy it out
and cost me a fortune.
This is more beautiful than the printed book.
Nevertheless, the printing press is a miracle.
A horrifying miracle.
Horrifying? This small press?
Small things have a way of overmastering the great.
The Nile rat kills the crocodile
and this small press can destroy a kingdom.
Come, come, my High Justice, don't exaggerate.
What is that?
It is the first page of a new book, Your Majesty.
Let me see it.
'On the Freedom of Thought'. Who wrote it?
Pierre Gringoire.
Gringoire? Who is he?
A French poet, Your Majesty.
A heretic, sire.
To spread him is to communicate disease.
How do you know?
It may be a great blessing to France
if people can get books and learn to read.
To me, it's a new form of expression of thought.
Out there is the old form.
All over France, in every city, there stand cathedrals like this one,
triumphant monuments of the past.
They tower over the homes of our people like mighty guardians,
keeping alive the invincible faith of the Christian.
Every arch, every column, every statue
is a carved leaf out of our history, a book in stone,
glorifying the spirit of France.
The cathedrals are the handwriting of the past.
The press is of our time
and I won't do anything to stop it, Frollo.
Sire, we must break the press and hang the printer
for between them they will destroy our old and holy order.
No, no, I'm not such a fool.
I, for my part, will protect France from these printed books
as I will protect it from witches, sorcerers and gypsies -
the foreign race that is overrunning all of Europe.
(Children laugh and yell)
WHIPS CRACK
Why do you stop us?
No gypsies can enter Paris anymore without a permit.
It's the new law.
If the others can enter, why can't we?
They are Frenchmen, you're gypsies, foreigners.
Foreigners - you came yesterday, we come today.
SOLDIERS YELL
Let them pass - it's Fool's Day.
Fool's Day or not, we don't want these foreigners.
GUARD: Stop her! Catch her!
(Woman screams)
Esmerelda!
Grandma! The Hunchback of Notre Dame just crossed my path.
Go home, quickly, and light the candle.
That won't help against Quasimodo. He's possessed.
Yvonne?
Aren't you going to the festival to see the King?
I can't. Mother says there are too many thieves and beggars in the crowd.
Oh, they'll get you at home just as well, you'll see.
FESTIVE MUSIC PLAYS
Well, what's he trying to do?
He's heard it rumoured that the Earth is round
and is attempting to walk to the Indies, the idiot.
It's not round, it's flat. The idiot?
There are some famous geographers and mathematicians
who also believe the Earth is round. It isn't round, it's flat.
Do you recollect that letter we had from...what's his name...
..Christopher Columbus - who wrote claiming that he could,
by steering a westerly course, reach the Indies?
It's flat.
I'm greatly tempted to endow the venture.
Our country could not afford the risk of such an enterprise.
Klumps. The man's the laughing stock of the Court of Spain.
Who knows?
The future may prove Ferdinand's Court was the laughing stock.
It isn't round. What ARE you mumbling about, Doctor?
The earth isn't round, it's flat. How do you know?
I've observed it in all my travels over Europe.
It's flat. Everywhere is flat!
Oh, let's listen to the play.
The old can never last.
The new is claiming it's place.
It's foolish to cling to the past.
Believe in the future's face.
ACTOR: It pains me to relate that death is the fate
of noble and peasant alike.
ACTOR: We are born in a womb and end in a tomb.
DRUM ROLL
They're coming!
How's business? Bad.
(Grunts) How's business?
Much better if they weren't all watching that play.
I'll tend to that! You'd better.
You rest and live and rest again.
Beware, you do not live in vain.
I'll make you eat too much, you'll throw it up again.
(All laugh)
You stupid, ignorant drunk!
I offer you truth!
We don't want your truth!
(All boo)
We will now choose the King of Fools.
(Crowd cheers)
Africans, come forth.
Men, women, the ugliest face wins the crown.
Ugly faces!
How do you like his face?
(All boo)
(All cheer)
(All boo)
The ugly is very appealing to man.
It's a matter of taste.
No, it's instinct.
One shrinks from the ugly yet wants to look at it.
There's a devilish fascination in it.
We extract pleasure from horror.
One of the mob, sire.
You think so?
Look at our friends. They don't look exactly uninterested.
It's horrible.
That's the prettiest ugliness I've ever seen.
Awful. Beautiful!
What?
That girl. What a beauty.
I've never seen her before, have you?
She IS pretty.
Who is she? What's her name?
Esmeralda.
FLUTE PLAYS MERRILY
People seem to like her and so do I.
Doctor, lend me half a livre. Half a livre?!
Are you afraid I won't repay you? She's a gypsy, sire.
Who cares about her race? She's pretty.
Doesn't she make your pulse beat faster?
What about you, Doctor?
I'm a widower four times, sire, but I could begin all over again.
What's the matter?
That eye...
..staring at me.
MAN: Somebody's in there! WOMAN: It's an animal. It's a beast!
Come out if you're a good Christian? Get under there and see what it is!
Get him out of there!
WOMAN: Oh, he went the other way!
(Man laughs hysterically) It's Quasimodo.
MAN: It's the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
(Crowd hubbub)
(Crowd gasps)
No. No. Don't spoil their fun, Frollo.
Stay here.
(Crowd starts to laugh)
We'll make him the king! (Crowd cheers)
(Woman screams) (Crowd gasps)
Well, Quasimodo, we knew you were ugly,
but didn't know you were so ugly.
We've never been so close to you before.
You've always been up in your belltower -
and now we want to make you King of Fools.
What do you say?
What's the matter? Are you deaf?
The plague to you.
I offer you the Fool's crown, and you bite me.
MAN: He's deaf - the bells have made him so.
MAN #2: Deaf? Maybe he's dumb, too.
That makes him a perfect king.
Oh, he can speak. But he doesn't like to.
What'll we do about it?
Show him the crown.
By unanimous vote, we now proclaim you King of Fools.
(All sing joyously)
(All sing) # Quasimodo! Quasimodo!
# King of the Fools is Quasimodo!
# King of the King, King of the Fools
# Quasimodo! Quasimodo!
# Quasimodo, the King of the Fools! #
I am the true King of Fools.
I battle for beauty and the ugly gets crowned.
What greater fool can there be than I?
TRIUMPHANT MUSIC CONTINUES
(All continue to sing) # Quasimodo! Quasimodo!
# King of the Fools is Quasi... # Stop!
He can't take away our king!
No bills, only petitions.
But I need money. The actors must be paid, the play was ordered.
This is no time to ask for money.
It never is! So we go hungry.
Here, don't push. Don't push!
I must see the King. I must! Must? (Laughs)
Hey you, gypsy! Let me see your city permit.
Get her! Stop her! Stop her!
GUARDS: Stop her! Stop her!
Sanctuary.
We've got to arrest her, she's a gypsy.
Church is sanctuary for all.
They can't enter Paris anymore - it's a law now.
The power of the law ends at this threshold.
It's no use. The King himself could do nothing here.
Don't be afraid.
You are safe here.
What have you done?
Why are they after you?
(Softly) I'm a gypsy.
That's not your fault, it's an act of God.
Take her to the belltower.
Quasimodo will look after her.
Quasimodo is not here, Your Grace.
Where is he?
I don't know, Your Grace.
Where is my brother?
His Grace is in the vestry, preparing for the evening service.
Lord...
..I must speak to you.
What is it?
It's about Quasimodo.
He made a spectacle of himself before the King and all the people.
Where is he now?
Up in his tower.
You must imprison him again.
He must have nothing to do with anybody outside the church.
But you have more influence over him than I.
He's your foundling, Jean.
You picked him up on the church steps, not I.
Ever since he was a child, he has looked to you as his protector.
HAT BELLS JANGLE FAINTLY
(Laughs)
BELL CHIMES
CHOIR CHANTS IN LATIN
Quasimodo is back now. I'll take you to him.
Who's that?
The Virgin Mary, the mother of God.
The mother of God.
If we open our hearts to her with faith, she comforts us.
How can I speak to her?
Kneel down and pray,
as the others are doing.
I've never prayed before,
but the priest told me
you help all those who are in need.
Give me security, give me happiness...
Give me always a good home.
Give me riches... Give me beauty.
Give me... Give me...
Give me happiness, take all I have, but please help my people.
They're in great need and great danger.
What are you doing in Notre Dame?
I'm praying.
You cannot pray here, you are a heathen.
Who are you?
You're not a priest and yet you look like one.
I am what I wish to be.
Get up and leave this church.
You desecrate the very stones on which you kneel.
I...
First, you dance publicly without shame,
awakening in every man the weak and simple desire to look at you...
Dancing isn't sinful to me, it's like talking.
Get up! Leave me alone.
Your hand.
There's the mark of the devil on it.
You witch!
For saying that, I shall have you hanged.
Now I know who you are.
Mother of God, don't let him hang me.
Protect me, protect me.
Praying won't help you. You come from an evil race.
You don't know anything about my people.
Honest people don't live by witchcraft and magic.
If we really had the power of magic,
do you think we'd choose to be outcast,
to be poor and persecuted always?
Surely we'd use it for our own benefit?
All gypsies should be destroyed by fire and sword.
You musn't talk like that in here.
The Mother of God is listening.
I'm a heathen, yet I could be here all my life
and never have an evil thought -
never speak, just be here.
Look! That window up there, glowing in red and blue,
with the setting sun breaking through
and how the light floats around the tall columns.
They're like the high pines in the forest.
It's so quiet and peaceful here -
always quieter than in the woods,
where the birds chatter and sing when I come.
You know, the birds and deer eat out of my hand,
They're not shy at all when you're kind to them.
I know.
You like animals?
Yes.
You say that?
You?
Then you cannot hate as much as you pretend to.
Somewhere in your heart there must be love -
I know, I see it, in your eyes.
God has shown me the goodness in you,
surely he'll show me a way to help my people.
Mother of God, you know how gypsies are cruelly driven
from country to country,
so you see, I have to speak to the King.
If he is kind, he will do something to help my people.
Please, DO make him listen to me.
He will.
You will be heard. But you must give me a good reason.
They tell me gypsies are a lot of thieves.
That's not true, Your Majesty.
Whenever we steal, it's because we're hungry.
My people have good hearts and we love you.
You have a good heart too, sire, because you promised to help us.
You little witch. I merely meant that I might consider it.
Where do you live? Where shall I send you my answer?
To Notre Dame?
Yes, your Majesty.
Good, then I'll send my message here.
Oh, thank you, thank you.
Thank you, Mother of God, thank you. Thank you.
I must go and tell my people.
Wait. Why?
You live here in sanctuary, don't you?
Yes. Don't be so disturbed.
You'll enjoy living in the belltower, high above all Paris.
I often like to go there myself. Come, let me show you.
The bellringer will watch over you.
Don't be afraid.
It's Quasimodo, the bellringer. He's harmless.
Don't run away. Come with me.
DRAMATIC MUSIC
Help! Help!
DRAMATIC MUSIC
(Screams)
You beast! You monster! Let me go! Let me go!
Let her go you unholy monster. Let her go! Help!
Help! Save her!
Save her! Save her! What are you yelling about?
The hunchback - the gypsy dancer - he's running away with her.
Save her! Save her!
Stop him!
There he goes! Stop him!
Take her! Take the girl.
What's happened? The guards have hurt someone. A criminal.
Who is it? It's the hunchback.
Stop him! Stop that, you beast, stop!
Let me hang him. Leave that to the law.
Don't let him get away. Tie him up well.
Stop that biting or I'll knock your teeth out.
What's your name?
Esmeralda.
I'll remember it, and I'll see you again.
GUARD: Come on, you beast. Come on.
Let's go inside.
Oh, no, I'd better wait out here.
Never wait for a man, my dear.
He'll come back.
He will, sure as his name is Phoebus.
Phoebus.
Congratulations, so you've got him.
Thanks to your help. My help? You yelled loud enough.
I will arouse all Paris against such monsters.
Is the gypsy girl your sweetheart?
Most special, my dear Captain Phoebus,
and remember, I will repay...
Oh, oh!
(Laughs)
Penny, sir?
Penny, sir? Penny, sir?
(High-pitched laughing)
(All beggars) Penny, penny, penny...
DRAMATIC MUSIC
Where's the King?
He's busy now, you'll have to wait.
First moment I saw her, she went straight to my heart.
Esmeralda, you belong to us now.
Who's the king here?
I and nobody else gives the kiss of initiation.
Many of your tribe have found this a haven.
You too will find peace, and a home, here.
What's the matter?
He doesn't want to pay his daily share.
Leave him alone.
You know what the rules are -
pay up your share or...
I'll give you the count of three to change your mind.
One...
two...
three!
(People gasp)
Who's that?
A stranger. They said they caught him prowling around in the court.
How'd he get in? Was the guard asleep?
Let me see him.
Bow down. You're standing before the king of beggars.
Who are you?
Permit me to introduce myself.
Gringoire, doctor of the seven liberal arts. I...I...
Do you know where you are?
The court of miracles.
Where the blind can see and the lame walk.
Do you know what happens to people who come in here uninvited?
I can imagine.
Let me hang him. He's a spy.
He's a doctor.
I'm a poet, whose play was done at the festival.
Anyone caught here who's not a beggar or a thief must hang.
No! No, you can't do this to me. I haven't done a thing.
It's a rule.
I'm not a spy. You can't, no.
What a pity. My ballad could make you immortal.
What? What did you say?
Say it again.
I mean, I mean...I intended to write a poem in your honour
to glorify your reign.
Let me hang him, please. Quiet.
You're not trying to cheat me?
Keep me alive and you will live in history.
Imagine, my Clopin in history.
Don't put your oar in.
Besides, I belong here naturally.
Being a poet I'm already a vagabond
and I can learn quickly to be a thief.
And I will amuse with such rhyming eloquence as you've never dreamed of.
Good intentions are not enough.
They've never put an onion in the soup yet.
You'll have to undergo a test.
Then we'll see if you're good for anything.
Get the bellboy ready. Bring it down!
Now then, up you go.
Stand on the stool, one leg.
I'll break my neck. Then you'll save us the hanging.
Try to take a purse out of that pocket.
But if one single bell jingles, you'll fail.
And then? Then you hang.
Can you do it?
I'm above that sort of thing. I cut throats, I don't cut purses.
Try it.
Don't tinkle, please, little bells, don't jingle.
My life...depends on it.
(Crowd laughs)
There must be something easier I could try.
Surely. Get right up and take the bellboy's place.
Too bad. And I'd almost come to like him.
Clopin? Why not give him a chance to marry one of the girls?
Wait!
Let me hang him.
(Whistles shrilly)
Girls! Port for sale! Port for sale!
What does that mean?
If one of our girls will marry you, you are free
and I can't hang you.
A charming idea.
Going,
going...
Goodbye and thank you, my friend.
Gone!
Oh, that neck.
Wait, wait!
Are you going to hang that man?
Surely, unless you take him for your husband.
I'll take him.
Well, do you want her or not?
My rope, my rope!
The wager -
take it from Esmeralda, drink and break.
(Crowd cheers)
And he had such a nice neck.
Let's escort them to the bridal chamber.
(Crowd sings)
We must have light.
Here's flint and timber.
Now, a little wood. Let me help you.
No, it's the woman's part to build a fire.
But it was a man who first brought it to earth.
Who? Prometheus.
Who's that?
A god who stole it from heaven by holding a rod to the sun
until it burned into flame.
He created creatures out of clay and blew his breath into them
and they came to life and they too could make fires
to warm their bodies.
As we do?
Just as we do.
Oh, Esmeralda, I feel as if...
how can I tell you how I feel?
This day - first the people ridiculed me, then I found you,
then I lost you, and now...
..here we are together. Married.
It's such a miracle -
I waited through the dark and endless night
when before, my days I hated.
Now I welcome Phoebus light - Phoebus, king of day.
Esmeralda...
..what did I say to hurt you?
Nothing.
No, you must tell me.
Who is Phoebus?
Phoebus - the sun god.
The sun god.
Why do you ask?
I love a man named Phoebus.
Phoeb...?
Not that captain who saved you from the hunchback?
Yes.
So you don't love me, it was nothing but pity, pity, pity.
I'm sorry if I hurt you.
Well, since you won't have me as your husband,
maybe you'll have me for your friend.
My friend?
Do you know what friendship is?
Like brother and sister, like two petals on the same flower.
And love?
That's to be two, and at the same time one.
I love you, Esmeralda,
and so I'm ready to live with you as it shall please you -
as husband and wife if you think good
or as brother and sister if you like it better.
I'm enough of a philosopher to hold everything in the proper equilibrium.
The what? The proper balance.
Oh, you're a juggler?
No, I'm sorry, I can't juggle.
But you can learn. I'll teach you.
Look!
Oh, that's wonderful.
I could never do it.
Try it.
It's no use.
Don't talk, get your balance.
It's no use.
SCREAMS
Something must have happened, the whole court is...
Esmeralda? Esmeralda!
What's the matter?
He has an order to arrest all the gypsies.
No, only the girls.
Round them up! Round them up!
(Women scream)
(Cats meow)
What is it?
The gypsy girls are ready for your inspection.
The one I'm looking for is not here. Release them.
Did you find out in which prison Quasimodo is being held?
Not yet, Your Honour.
Why not? Find out at once!
Yes, Your Honour.
Quiet. Quiet.
Speak up, prisoner, the judge is deaf.
(Sighs)
Your name?
Your age?
Your profession?
(Crowd snickers)
Have you...
..have you got all the prisoner's answers down?
(Prisoners laugh loudly)
You are accused of...
..disturbing the peace,
abducting a woman
and resisting the King's guards.
What is your defence?
Quick and to the point.
Quasimodo.
So you plead guilty.
25 next month.
For that you shall be whipped.
Bellringer at Notre Dame.
Your Honour, the prisoner is deaf. He hears nothing.
That's different.
For that insolence, you shall spend another hour on the pillory.
Next case.
TRUMPETS PLAY FANFARE
We hereby announce that Quasimodo, the bellringer of Notre Dame,
is to receive 50 strokes with the cat-o'-nine-tail
for his attack upon a woman.
Thereafter he will be exposed for one full hour to public disgrace.
(Crowd boos)
And to think that yesterday on the same spot
they crowned him their king.
Today... That's life.
He's getting what he deserves.
If all the nobles got what they deserve
we wouldn't have enough pillories.
It's a shame, flogging that cripple. Poor wretch.
(Crowd jeers and laughs)
One.
Two.
Three. Four.
Five.
I can't stand it, Clopin.
You've never been whipped once.
Have you? Twice.
Now I buy protection.
From who? The nobility.
The guardians of the old and holy tradition.
The very same.
They buy it from the king and sell it to those beneath.
It's quite alright.
You see, after the war - and don't forget it lasted 100 years -
thousands of us went from door to door, asking for honest work
and we were whipped for begging.
Ruling class didn't say, 'work or starve',
it said, 'starve or you shall not work'.
And I starved. Thousands did, until I organised the Beggars' Guild.
Of which I am member number 7,419.
You needn't be ashamed.
True, we're not great thieves like the nobles -
our robberies are petty compared to the wholesale plunder of the nation.
I wonder if the moral difference isn't in our favour?
Right. And someday you and I will write a book
on the truth of beggary.
We will. But right now we've got to do something
to stop the whipping of that poor devil.
(Crowd gasps)
Only the Chief Justice can do that.
Isn't the Archbishop his brother?
I don't think he can do anything but you might try him.
29...30...31...
That's no whipping. He hasn't shed a tear.
Those possessed by the devil never do.
It's the whipper's fault.
What do you mean?
Our whipper would make him cry.
You mean you have a better whipper in Marseille than we have in Paris?
Yes.
I know, I know, I know. Isn't there any way to stop the whipping?
I wish I had the power.
Quasimodo belongs to the world of the church, doesn't he?
He does,
yet if he ventures into the world outside
he must accepts its laws.
If his punishment seems unjust
there is a higher power who watches
and avenges.
49...50.
The prisoner shall remain for one full hour on the pillory.
(Crowd yells and jeers)
The cellars of the palace of justice are overflowing with prisoners.
It's the same throughout France
It's not the common thief and murderer
but the thousands and thousands of heretics.
Freethinkers and preachers of sedition
that are our problem.
We have to build more prisons.
It's not more prisons we need but more executions.
You're far too lenient. What did you find out?
The prisoner Quasimodo has already been sentenced.
Where is he? At the pillory.
Council is dismissed.
(Yells indiscernibly)
See that?
I thought he loved the hunchback.
Never trust a man with pinched nostrils and thin lips.
Esmerelda!
Where have you been? With my people.
I crept through the gates
to tell them the king has promised to help us.
Water. (Crowd mimics him)
There's your water.
(Crowd falls quiet)
Claude, I couldn't prevented it.
Before I knew what was happening he was already sentenced.
What do you think made Quasimodo pursue the girl?
He never did anything like it before.
He would not disgrace us
unless he was forced to.
I know how disappointed you are in him
but we must bear our burden in patience.
The hour's up, release him.
(Sniffles) She gave me water.
Are we not all God's creatures
placed in the centre of the universe
to rule with love as Our Father in heaven?
The time has come to regard our fellow man with respect.
for only thus will we reach the fulfillment of our destiny.
No wonder Frollo fears the printed book.
Imagine all the people reading this.
The printing press seems to be a great invention.
It is. I'm glad I'm living in this age of great beginnings.
Ouch! You're hurting me.
I should have made you my chief torturer.
I beg your pardon, sire.
I wouldn't have to rub so hard if your majesty would bathe more often.
How often would you say?
Twice a year. Twice a year?
At least. Hm.
Would that make me live longer? It would.
Good. I'm determined to live 100 years.
And more if your new elixir does what you promise.
What's the matter?
CHURCH BELLS CHIME
Why are the bells ringing at this hour?
CHURCH BELLS CONTINUE
And so strangely.
What's the matter with the hunchback?
See? It is Quasimodo.
He's getting crazier every day.
Yes, he certainly has changed. What do you mean?
He's been different ever since that gypsy girl gave him a drink of water.
That's right. He keeps mumbling her name.
Maybe he's in love with her?
There. Is that lead hot enough to pour yet?
PARTY CHITCHAT, MUSIC AND LAUGHTER
Who is she?
The gypsy girl. She's been invited to dance here tonight.
Gringoire, what are you doing?
The world looks beautiful this way, Esmeralda.
One should always look at it standing on one's head.
Gringoire, be sensible!
Sensible? It's monstrous to be as sensible as I am.
Remember why you're here.
To divert the noble lords and ladies of Paris
lest they take poisons to end their empty lives.
Are you ready?
Yes, I am.
Come on, Bimbo!
Don't forget your cue, Esmeralda!
What have I done?
Why do you pursue me?
What have you done?
You've awakened in me
all that should have stayed dormant.
I have sought a tranquil existence and had it...
..until I saw you.
Since then my paths have failed me...
..for I cannot rid myself of you.
In every book I read, I see your face.
In every sound, I hear your voice.
The jingle of your tambourine.
I have questioned my conscience from the deep hours of the night
only to awaken in greater confusion.
Let me go. They're waiting for me to dance.
I don't want them to see you dance.
You're breaking my wrist.
I didn't mean to hurt you.
Come away from here.
I can't bear that all those men will see you dance.
I want you for myself alone.
If I can't have that,
it will be my end.
And yours.
Now, ladies and gentlemen,
next on our program -
the Flower of Egypt,
the dancing wonder, Esmeralda!
APPLAUSE AND LAUGHTER
Ladies and gentlemen, this is really not Esmeralda.
This is Aristotle, the grave mathematician,
the miracle goat.
He will tell any one of you how much money you have in your purse.
MAN: Very well. How much do I have?
(All talk over each other)
APPLAUSE
Phoebus, isn't that the gypsy girl?
Come, Fleur, let's all dance!
Well, Bimbo, this is no party for us.
Come on, Aristotle.
(Goat brays)
Who are you?
Where do you come from?
Speak up, I'm a soldier - I'm accustomed to being obeyed.
Yet, here I sit and talk to you as if I'd never seen a girl before.
Never held one in my arms.
Why do I do this?
Why?
Because you love me. I love you.
Forever?
(Chuckles) Forever's a long time.
You forget I'm a soldier and gamble swiftly with life and death.
I'm willing to throw my life away for you today.
Tomorrow...
I see love as only a part of my life.
It's a very sweet part, I admit.
For me it's everything.
It's all my life.
There's someone here!
What is it?
Don't worry.
Phoebus.
Now I see
why Luna guards the night -
for the soul to pray.
How I welcome Phoebus light.
Phoebus,
King of Day.
(Whispers) Esmeralda.
Say again you love me. I love you.
More than anything in the world?
I can't do anything more than just love you.
I can.
You're a woman.
So, you won't love me after tonight? Perhaps not.
Let's get away from here.
There's somebody near us.
I'm afraid!
Stay, my love.
MUSIC PLAYS
(Woman Screams)
MAN: Murder! Murder!
Murder! Captain Phoebus has been killed.
Murder!
VOICE: The gypsy, she did it. CROWD: Yes. Yes.
There's the knife. Arrest her!
BELLS RING
Why don't you stop him?
It's impossible.
We can't make him stop.
Something's happened to him. He's gone mad.
We've tried everything.
We can't even reach him. Go and get more help.
We must stop him.
He'll awaken all Paris.
He stopped.
Jean.
Claude, I've been looking for you. Good. I'm glad you came.
We couldn't stop Quasimodo, I thought he'd gone mad.
Where have you been?
I've been waiting for you all evening.
Oh, let's go down to my room, I have a surpise for you.
I want you to hear some new music.
There's a young Italian composer,
he's written the most beautiful things and you must listen...
What's the matter?
You may not want a murderer in your room.
What do you mean?
I have killed a man...
..out of love for a woman who has bewitched me.
I know that she is the trap that Satan has set for me.
You are the servant of God,
you must help me.
Claude, speak!
He that smiteth a man, so that he should die,
shall be surely put to death.
But God also said, "I will appoint a place whither he shall flee."
I can't help a murderer.
Then she must die.
Who must die?
This gypsy girl who has made me a murderer.
But she's not guilty. Yes, she is.
She has bewitched me therefore she must die.
Die for your crime?
That's the Devil's logic, you can't believe that?
I do.
A sorceress once bewitched Bruno de Firenze.
He had her burnt and was saved.
This girl's death shall be my redemption.
You're mad!
You can't commit another crime, you're conscience won't let you!
There is no crime I will not commit to free myself of her.
Then my duty is to help the girl not you.
Claude!
You are my brother.
I am no longer your brother.
OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYS
Who's that? Gringoire.
Darling.
You don't believe I killed him? I know you didn't.
How is Aristotle? I have a cabbage for him.
Thank you for Aristotle.
Your hands are like ice.
You're not afraid, are you?
Not now.
Oh, Gringoire, why did I ever come to Paris?
Don't cry, darling.
I keep thinking and thinking
how I came here to soften the king's heart towards my people,
but my own silly heart betrayed me.
For that I deserve to die. You will not!
I will get you free.
You will look after my people when I am gone?
(Whispers) Don't talk like that.
Gringoire. Yes, darling.
Forgive me, even though it is too late.
For what?
About...
..Captain Phoebus.
Even before he was killed, I knew he really didn't love me.
I've been a fool! Don't speak of it!
You're not angry with me? Never.
Oh, thank you, Gringoire.
I hear someone coming. Don't leave me! Don't leave me!
I must work to get you free!
What is it? Quiet, somebody talking.
It seems to come from over there.
Look, it's Quasimodo.
How can we save her? How can we save her?
Here! Here is the appeal!
Quick, Master Fisher, quick! We will print it at once.
To the people of Paris.
Not so fast, I must get the type ready.
How soon can we get the first 100 copies?
Tomorrow. Good. Good.
But who will distribute them?
Every student, every beggar in the Court of Miracles will help us.
Let me see.
"Parisians, day-after-day innocent people disappear.
"Some die in the gallows, others are buried alive in dungeons..."
By order of his Honour, the High Justice.
Destroy this devilish apparatus!
You may destroy the form but not the spirit.
Parisians, mark my words, today it is an innocent gypsy girl,
tomorrow it may be your brother or your children or yourselves!
Parisians, let us appeal to the king.
Let us... Witness.
This is not a public square.
If you do not observe the dignity of this court
I will put you in prison.
Close the door.
(Mob talks loudly) Silence. Silence in the court.
SILENCE!
Show him the evidence.
Witness, does this dagger belong to the gypsy?
Yes.
'Tis the dagger which killed Captain Phoebus?
How could she have killed a man so much stronger than herself?
It's obvious she was just trying to defend herself
against the real murderer.
You know she's innocent!
These witnesses have proved it!
Sit down.
Silence. Silence in the court.
Your Honour, surely it's time to use the torture on this stubborn wench.
Not yet. Bring in the other prisoner.
Look, that's black magic!
(Crowd speaks over one another)
Silence! Silence in the court!
(Goat bleats)
Ah, the witchcraft is proved.
It's evident that the girl and the goat worked together.
I protest in the name of common sense!
In the name of man, who is not to be judged
by stupid superstition and prejudice. Remove the witness.
It's a shame when the fate of a girl depends on the behaviour of a goat.
If a goat doesn't know the human language,
why don't the judges learn the goat's language?
(All laugh)
Do you still deny that Satan is your master?
Who was sent to destroy man's body and soul?
Deliver him into Hell?
I am innocent.
Show her what she has to expect...
..if she refuses to admit her guilt.
(Crowd hubbub)
It wasn't her!
If you want to know who it was it was me.
(Crowd starts to laugh)
(All laugh)
Silence in the court! SILENCE!
Do you confess now?
I am innocent.
Your Honour, in view of the late hour and the prisoner's attitude,
there's nothing left but to torture.
Proceed. The court will adjourn.
MAN: What do you think?
WOMAN: She's as innocent as I am of killing that man.
She'll confess under torture. MAN: They all do.
MAN: I hate to see her hang.
CAT MEOWS
Is the doctor here? Yes.
Proceed.
METAL RATTLES
METAL COGS TURN
Mercy. Mercy!
MERCY!
(Screams)
Your Honour?
Your Honour, his Majesty the King is in the courtroom.
No, no. Let's stay back here.
I detest trials,
but our Archbishop has made my existence unbearable
with his appeals on behalf of this girl.
Your Majesty's presence here should satisfy his Grace.
Silence! Silence in the court.
Your Honour, the prisoner has confessed all.
Monsieur le Procurator, we're ready to hear your inquisitions.
(Reads in Latin)
What's he saying? He's demanding the death penalty.
(Continues to read in Latin)
We will now take the vote.
Wait!
What's this?
Blood.
Did you confess under torture?
Yes.
But...
..I am innocent.
You say you're innocent.
They say you're guilty.
I'll find out.
Untie her.
Come here.
Let us submit her to trial by ordeal.
Is this the dagger found in her hand?
Here is my dagger.
If you touch yours, you will be judged guilty.
If you touch mine, you will be innocent.
Blindfold her.
Choose.
The judgement is against you.
I'm sorry.
Gypsy girl,
on such a day as it should please our Lord, the King,
you are to be taken barefoot with a rope around your neck
before Notre Dame to do public penance.
There, you are to be hanged on the gallows,
together with your accomplice, the goat.
May God have mercy on your soul.
(Sings) # A bird was my mother
# My father another
# Over the water
CROWD HUBBUB
(People scream)
Esmeralda!
Gringoire!
Esmeralda!
(Women scream)
CHOIR INCANTS IN KOINE
CHOIR CONTINUES TO INCANT
You've been kind to me.
I kneel before you
innocent of crime.
I believe you.
I cannot allow this girl to do public penance on holy ground,
because she is not guilty.
Then she will hang without public penance.
You won't dare.
She is a witch and must die. Take her away.
CROWD HUBBUB
CHOIR INCANTS IN LATIN
CHOIR CONTINUES TO INCANT
(Sobs)
SONG: # Hallelujah! Ah... #
(All cheer)
Sanctuary! Sanctuary!
Thank Heaven. The sanctuary will save her.
MAN: Oh, no. She killed one of us and must die regardless.
We will go to the King and force him to suspend sanctuary.
Sanctuary!
(All cheer)
But she's my wife - I must see her!
Now, now. Believe me, she is safe here.
But Quasimodo, he... He will not harm her.
He did once before. That was not his fault.
Believe me, she is safe now with Quasimodo.
Eat, eat.
I'm going away so that you don't have to see my ugly face
when you're eating.
Come here!
You...called me back.
I'm deaf, you know.
You would think
there'd be nothing more wrong with me, wouldn't you?
But I'm deaf, too.
It's horrible.
I never realised till now
how...ugly I am.
It's...because you're so beautiful.
I'm not a man.
I'm not a beast.
(Chuckles)
I'm about as shapeless
as the man in the moon.
Oh, I'm deaf, you know.
But...you can speak to me
but in signs.
Why did you save me?
Oh, you...
..asked me why I saved you.
Oh...
Oh, I tried to carry you off.
And the next day you gave me...
..a drink of water
and a little pity...
Listen.
You must never leave the church
or they'll...
..they'll...
..hang you.
That'd kill me.
Yes.
It's good inside.
It goes higher and higher.
Look.
Come.
Look.
Little people.
Look. Look.
Here. Up here.
Friends!
Up, up there!
Babies!
Jacqueline!
Gabrielle!
George!
Big Bernie.
Lucia.
She made me deaf, you know.
DING
I can hear my friends.
Shall I play them for you?
BELLS CLANG
(Cries out gleefully)
I am proud to be the first to sign.
Count de Laque?
I've never heard of such an outrage.
An imbecile, a hunchback, takes the law into his own hands
and the King approves of it.
France is not to be governed by the shouting of the rabble.
Nor can the judgements of our courts
be willfully set aside by the Church.
When the King reads this document
and sees the names of those who signed it
he will do away with sanctuary for all time.
Count Frollo?
Your signature.
Your name will force the King to decide in our favour.
That girl must hang and this resolution will seal her fate.
(Tuts)
I have something to say to you.
(Sighs)
(Sobs)
What is it, my child?
Gringoire.
MAN: Gringoire! Gringoire!
Every man in the Quarter is ready to fight for Esmeralda.
Look at that new weapon.
With this, we save her.
We'll not let those nobles take away our right of sanctuary.
Don't bother me now.
I've got to finish this appeal to the King,
the people.
The printer is waiting.
Words won't save her. I have a better way. Force!
I don't believe in force.
My friend, you're a dreamer, a scribbler, a poet.
What do you want?
To prove your point or save Esmeralda?
A plague on you if you don't stop arguing like lawyers.
Do something! Right.
No, wait. Till they hang Esmeralda?
Gringoire, my army of beggars, thieves and cutthroats
is ready to march.
No, no, no, Clopin. We must wait. What for?!
For the effect of my pamphlet on the population of Paris.
But you forget the power of the nobility!
You forget that the King will read this, too.
He failed before when they destroyed that printing press.
I can't depend on pamphlets - we march! Get ready!
And this pamphlet, you say,
is being distributed by craftsmen and students throughout Paris?
Throughout the whole country, sire.
(Chuckles) My craftsman are awakening.
The result of your printing press, sire.
If we had taken the... Read on. Read on.
"The people have faith in their King
"and are certain that so long as the courts continue to use torture
"instead of commonsense
"that he will refuse the nobles' demand
"to suspend the sanctuary of Notre Dame."
A thrust at you, Frollo.
CROWD HUBBUB
What's that?
CROWD HUBBUB CONTINUES
Why are they gathering out there?
Olivier? Sire.
What's going on?
The people fear the nobles' influence upon you, sire,
and have come here to make certain you will not suspend sanctuary.
What does all this mean?
It's the pamphlet, sir.
Oh.
I see.
This point is cleverer than I thought.
This bold new way
of appealing via printed petition
is creating a sort of public opinion
that is forcing decisions even on kings.
Impertinent.
But I like it.
It's different.
Public opinion is dangerous, sire.
Dangerous? For whom?
Your Majesty, the Archbishop has arrived.
Let him come in.
Sire, the pledge of the sanctuary is being threatened by...
Have you read this? I have, sire.
And all the people are aroused. Good, my people!
Do your work.
Go on. Destroy these false nobles who want to be king.
Hang, pillage, sack them.
On, my people! On! But, sire, the cathedral...
Notre Dame - they will destroy it.
What do you mean?
Thousands of beggars are afraid
that the gypsy girl is no longer safe in the church
and are storming Notre Dame.
That I would not endure!
Ah...
It's all your fault!
My fault? Yes!
If you hadn't interfered with the execution
the girl would have been hanged and all would have been well.
But, sire, the gypsy girl is innocent.
Ah, the trial by ordeal was against her.
Still, she is innocent.
If you're so sure she's innocent,
you must know the real murderer.
Who is it? Speak up.
Your Majesty...
Who is it you're protecting?
I'm waiting...for my brother to speak.
What is this? A personal matter between you two?
Who is it?
It's the hunchback?
No.
Then who is it?
Who is the murderer?
I am.
I did it and I would do it again.
I don't understand.
He's madly in love with the gypsy girl.
And he condemned her to death?
Because she didn't love him.
Frollo...a murderer...
Olivier! Olivier! Who are you? Mr Gringoire.
Oh, the man that wrote the pamphlet. I would talk with you.
Arrest Frollo. Quick! Quick!
Come in. Come in.
I, Clopin, King of the Beggars
summon you, Archbishop of Paris,
to give up the gypsy girl.
We've come to save her from the nobles
who want to hang her.
Open the door, Archbishop of Paris
or we'll break into your church!
What's all this about?
Who are you? Freson.
Freson? Citizens of Paris.
We've all read Gringoire's pamphlet
and are here to defend the sanctity of Notre Dame.
No-one shall violate it.
Not even the nobles?
Not even the nobles.
I don't believe ya.
Charge!
People.
They've come to hang you
but I keep them away.
If you don't leave here, they can't catch you,
no one can get in here.
I wouldn't let them.
If you're afraid, pull the rope.
I can hear the bell.
What's the matter?
You cowards.
You can't let those thieving nobles hang an innocent girl!
She's one of us. Come on, fight!
You're not afraid of a stick of wood, are you?
Where is your courage, beggars?
C'mon! Fight!
Don't slink away like frightened rats.
What are you afraid of?
There's no demon up there.
That's only Quasimodo the bellringer.
We should take him for finishing us with a battery ram.
C'mon, lads. Do your work.
C'mon, lads!
Forwards!
Molten metal. Molten metal. Molten metal.
BELLS RING
DRAMATIC MUSIC
TRUMPETS BLARE
Parisians! Parisians!
She's free!
We won! The king has pardoned her.
(Crowd cheers)
Disperse. Go on your way in peace.
The girl has been pardoned
and all her people are free to live anywhere in France.
Clopin.
Why didn't you wait?
I told you I could save her without using force.
I thought that was just a false dream.
Don't thank me, thank Quasimodo who saved you from hanging.
And Gringoire, whose little printed paper set you free.
Gringoire. Esmeralda.
Your Grace.
Why was I not made of stone like thee?
(Choir sings) Hallelujah, hallelujah.
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