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.
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. "
This small press can destroy a kingdom.
Oh, 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...
...triumphal monuments of the past.
They tower over the homes of our people like mighty guardians...
...keeping alive the invincible faith of the Christians.
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, 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 forelgn race that is overrunning all of Europe.
Why do you stop us?
Because no Gypsies can enter Paris any longer without a permit.
It's the new law.
-If the others can enter, why can't we? -They are Frenchmen. You're Gypsies.
-Forelgners. -Forelgners.
You came yesterday, we come today.
Let them pass. It's Fools' Day.
Fools' Day or not, we don't want these forelgners.
Stop her. Catch her.
What's the matter, Héléne?
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.
Well, what's he trying to do?
He has heard it rumored that the earth is round...
...and is attempting to walk to the Indies, the idiot.
-It's not round, it's flat. -The idiot!
Some famous geographers and mathematicians 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?
Oh, 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.
Columbus...
The man's the laughingstock of the court of Spain.
Who knows...?
The future may prove Ferdinand's court was the laughingstock.
-It isn't round. -What are you mumbling about, Doctor?
-The earth isn't round, it's flat. -How do you know?
I have observed it on all my travels over Europe.
It's flat. Everywhere it's flat.
Oh, let's listen to the play.
"The old can never last.
"The new is claiming its place.
"It's foolish to cling to the past.
"Believe in the future's face.
"It pains me to relate that death...
"...is the fate of noble and peasant, alike.
"You are born in a womb.
"And end in a tomb. "
The king's coming.
Pennies...
-How's business? -Bad.
How's business?
It would be better if all weren't watching the play.
-I'll tend to that. -You'd better.
"You rest and live and rest again.
"Beware you do not live in vain. "
And if you eat too much, you throw it up again.
You stupid, ignorant drunkards, you!
I offer you truth...
-We don't want your truth. -No, we don't want it.
We will now choose the King of Fools.
Applicants come forth. Men, women...
The ugliest face wins the crown.
Ugly faces!
How do you like this face?
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 devillsh fascination in it.
We extract pleasure from horror.
Only the mob, sire.
Think so?
Look at our friends. They don't look exactly uninterested.
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.
The people seem to like her, and so do I.
-Doctor, lend me half a livre. -A half livre?
-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.
-Somebody's in there. -It's an animal.
-It's a fiend. -Come out, if you're a good Christian.
Let's get under there and see what it is.
Get him out of there.
-Get under. Get after him. -He's going out the other way.
-It's Quasimodo. -It's the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Don't spoil thelr fun, Frollo.
Stay here.
Make him the king.
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 bell tower.
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 fools' crown, and you bite me.
He's deaf, the bells have made him so.
Deaf...maybe he's dumb, too.
-That makes him the perfect king. -No, he can speak.
-But he doesn't like to. -Well, what will we do about it?
Show him the crown.
By unanimous vote, we now proclaim you King of Fools.
"King Quasimodo, Quasi-Quasimodo
"Quasimodo, ruler of fools we bow
"All you rabble, scum and scavengers of France
"Mark you the fool with crown upon his ugly brow
"Hail to the idiot king Shout and sing
"Quasimodo, Quasimodo King of the Fools is Quasimodo
"Hail to the king King of the Fools, cock-a-doodle-doo
"Cock-a-doodle-doo, Quasimodo Cock-a-doodle-doo, hey... "
I am the true King of Fools.
I battle for beauty, and the ugly gets crowned.
What greater fool can there be than I?
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? -Hey, you Gypsy.
Let me see your city permit.
Catch her! 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 the 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?
I'm a Gypsy.
That's not your fault. It's an act of God.
Take her to the bell tower.
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.
Claude...
-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 impress upon 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.
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 a rich husband.
Give me beauty.
-Give me a rich harvest. -Give me prosperity.
Give me happiness.
Take all I have...
...but please help my people.
They are in great need, in 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. -No.
You desecrate the very stones on which you kneel.
-I? -Yes.
First you dance publicly without shame, awakening in every man...
...the weak and sinful 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 outcasts, to be poor and persecuted, always?
Surely we'd use it for our own benefit.
AII Gypsies should be destroyed by fire and sword.
You mustn'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 is so quiet and peaceful here.
Almost 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 are 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've 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?
Don't be so disturbed.
You'll enjoy living in the bell tower, 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.
You beast, you monster! Let me go!
What have I done?
Let me go! Let me go!
Devil! You, unholy monster! Let her go!
Help!
Help! Save her, save her!
-What's the noise? -What are you yelling about?
There, it's the Hunchback!
There, the Gypsy dancer, he's running away with her.
Save her, save her!
That way, Phoebus.
Stop him, Phoebus.
Take her. Take the girl.
Where's everybody running to? What's happened?
-The guards have caught someone? -A criminal.
-Who is it? -It's the Hunchback.
-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.
Come on, you beast! Come on!
Come on, go inside.
No, 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.
-Congratulations. So you got him. -Thanks to your help.
-My help? -Yes, you yelled loud enough.
I would arouse all Paris against such monsters.
Is the Gypsy girl your sweetheart?
Most special, my dear Captain Phoebus.
And remember, I will repay you, not she.
Pennies, sir...
Where's the king?
He's busy now. You'll have to wait.
The 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, give the kiss of initiation.
Many of our 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.
Come with me.
Leave him alone.
You know what the rules are.
Pay up your share or...
I'll give you a count of three to change your mind.
One...
...two...
...three.
-Who's that? -A stranger.
They said they caught him prowling around the court.
How did he get in? Is 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.
Maitre Gringoire...
...doctor of the seven liberal arts.
Do you know where you are?
The Court of Miracles...
...where the blind can see...
...and the lame can 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 anything.
-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...
I intended to write a poem in your honor, to glorify your relgn.
-Let me hang him, please. -Quiet!
Are you 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 you with such rhyming eloquence as you've never dreamed of.
Good intentions are not enough.
They've never put an onion in a soup, yet.
You'll have to undergo a test.
Then we'll see if you're good for anything.
Get the bellboy ready.
Bring him down.
And now then, up you go, up.
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've failed.
-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 you.
There must be something easier I could...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.
Girls...
Poet for sale, poet for sale...
Poet 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...
-Goodbye. -Goodbye.
And thank you, my friend.
-Gone. -Gone.
That neck.
Wait, wait...
Are you going to hang that man?
Surely.
Unless you take him for your husband.
I'll take him.
Well...?
What, do you want her or not?
My rope, my rope...
The wedding cup.
Take it from Esmeralda...
...drink and break it.
And he had such a nice neck.
Let's escort them to the bridal chamber.
"Ta-ra ta-ta, ta-ra ta-ta Under the gallows tonight
"Ta-ra ta-ta, ta-ra ta-ta Beggars are wed tonight
"Happy are the cats and mice
"Even the lice
"Ta-ra ta-ta, ta-ra ta-ta Under the gallows tonight
"Ta-ra ta-ta, ta-ra ta-ta Beggars are wed tonight
"Happy are the cats and mice
"Even the lice
"Jump and sing until it's light
"This is a beggar's wedding night. "
We must have a light.
Here is flint and tinder.
-Now, a little wood. -Let me help you.
No, it's a woman's part to build the fire.
But it was a man who first brought it to earth.
Who?
-Prometheus. -Who is that?
A god who stole it from heaven by holding a rod to the sun...
...until it burned into flames.
He created creatures out of clay...
...and blew his breath into them and they came to life.
Then, they too, could make fires...
...to warm thelr bodies.
As we do?
Just as we do.
Oh, Esmeralda, I feel...
How can I tell you how I feel?
This day, first people ridiculed me...
...then I found you...
...then I lost you.
And now...
...here we are together...
...married.
For 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.
You must tell me.
Who is Phoebus?
Phoebus, the sun god.
The sun god.
Why do you ask?
I love a man named Phoebus.
Phoebus?
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...
...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...
...so I am 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 equillbrium.
-The what? -The proper balance.
You're a juggler.
No, I'm sorry. I can't juggle.
But you can learn. I'll teach you.
Look.
That's wonderful.
I could never do it.
Try it.
It's no use.
Don't talk.
Balance it.
No use.
Something must have happened. The whole court is...
What's the matter?
He has an order to arrest all the Gypsies.
No, only the girls.
Round them up, round them up.
Good morning, Your Honor.
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 in which prison Quasimodo is belng held?
-Not yet, Your Honor. -Why not?
-Find out at once. -Yes, Your Honor.
Quiet.
Speak up, prisoner. The judge is deaf.
Your name?
Your age?
Your profession?
Emile, have you...
...got all the prisoner's answers down?
You are accused of...
...disturbing the peace...
...abducting a woman...
...and resisting the king's guards.
What is your defense?
Quick and to the point.
Quasimodo.
So you plead guilty.
Twenty-five, next month.
For that, you shall be whipped.
Bellringer of Notre Dame.
Your Honor, the prisoner is deaf. He hears nothing.
That's different.
For that insolence...
...you shall spend another hour on the pillory.
Next case.
"We hereby announce that Quasimodo, the bellringer of Notre Dame...
"...is to recelve 50 strokes with the cat-o'-nine-tails...
"...for his attack upon a woman.
"Thereafter, he will be exposed for one full hour to public disgrace. "
And to think that yesterday on the same spot...
...they crowned him thelr 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.
Master Pierrat.
One...
...two...
...three...
...four...
...five...
I can't stand it, Clopin.
You could if you'd been whipped once.
-Have you? -Twice.
Now I buy protection.
-From whom? -The nobillty.
The guardians of the old and holy traditions.
The very same.
They buy it from the king, and sell it to those beneath.
It's quite all right.
You see...
...after the war, I 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.
The ruling class didn't say, "Work or starve. "
It said, "Starve, for you shall not work. "
And I starved.
Thousands did, till I organized the Beggars' Guild.
Of which I am member 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 favor?
Right.
Some day you and I will write a book on the truth of beggary.
We will.
Right now we've got to do something to stop the whipping of that poor devil.
Only the chief of justice can do that.
Isn't the archbishop his brother?
I don't think he can do anything, but you might try him.
Twenty-nine, thirty...
...thirty-one...
That's no whipping. He hasn't shed a tear.
Those possessed of 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 Marsellles than we have in Paris?
Yes.
Why?
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 accept its laws.
If his punishment seems unjust...
...there is a higher power who watches...
...and avenges.
Forty-nine, fifty.
The prisoner shall remain for one full hour on the pillory.
The cellars of the Palace of Justice are overflowing with prisoners.
It is 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 is not more prisons we need, it's more executions.
We're far too lenient. What'd you find out?
The prisoner Quasimodo has already been sentenced.
-Where is he? -At the pillory.
The council is dismissed.
Water...
Did you see that?
And I thought he loved the Hunchback.
Never trust a man with pinched nostrils and thin lips.
-Where have you been? -With my people.
I crept through the gates to tell them that the king has promised to help us.
Water...
Water!
There's your water.
Claude, I couldn't prevent it.
Before I knew what was happening he was already sentenced.
What do you think, Jean, 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.
All right. Go on.
She gave me water.
"Are we not all God's creatures...
"...placed in the center 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.
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.
-Would that make me live longer? -It would.
Good.
I am determined to live 100 years...
...and more, if your new elixir does what you promise.
What's the matter?
Why are the bells ringing at this hour?
And so strangely?
What's the matter with the Hunchback?
You 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.
Is the lead hot enough to pour?
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.
One should always look at it standing on one's head.
-Be sensible. -Sensible?
It is monstrous to be as sensible as I am.
Please remember why you are here.
To divert the noble lords and ladies of Paris.
Unless they take poison to end the ennui of thelr 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 have 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 powers 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...
...or the jingle of your tambourine.
I've questioned my conscience through the deep hours of the night...
...only to awaken in greater confusion.
Let me go. They are waiting for me to dance.
I don't want them to see you dance.
-You are breaking my wrist. -I don't mean to hurt you.
Come away from here.
I can't bear it 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 in our program...
...the flower of Egypt...
...the dancing wonder, Esmeralda.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is really not Esmeralda.
This is Aristotle...
...the great mathematician.
The miracle goat.
He will tell any one of you how much money you have in your purse.
Very well. How much money have I?
Phoebus, isn't that the Gypsy girl?
Come, Fleur, let's all dance.
Well, Bimbo, this is no party for us.
Come on, Aristotle.
Who are you? Where do you come from?
Speak up. I'm a soldier and I'm accustomed to belng obeyed.
Here I sit and talk to you as if I had never seen a girl before...
...never held one in my arms.
Why do I do this?
Why?
-Because you love me. -Because I love you?
Forever.
Forever is a long time.
You forget I am a soldier and gamble swiftly with life and death.
I am willing to throw my life away for you, today.
Tomorrow...
You see, love is only a part of my life.
It's a very sweet part, I admit.
For me, it is everything.
It's all my life.
There is 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.
-Say again you love me. -I love you.
More than anything in the world?
I can't do any more than just love you.
-I can. -You are a woman.
So you won't love me after tonight?
Perhaps not.
Let's get away from here.
There is somebody near us.
-I'm afraid. -We'll stay, my love.
Murder!
Murder, murder!
Captain Phoebus has been killed.
Murder!
The Gypsy, she did it.
There's the knife. Arrest her.
Bertrand, Guillaume, why don't you stop him?
It's impossible. We can't make him stop.
Something's happened to him. He's going 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's stopped.
-Jean. -Claude.
-I've been looking for you. -Good. I am 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 surprise 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 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 shall die...
"...shall be surely put to death. "
God also says, "I shall appoint a place where thee 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 is not guilty. -Yes, she is.
She has bewitched me. Therefore, she must die.
Die for your crime?
That's devil's logic. You can't believe that.
I do.
A sorceress once bewitched Bruno de Firenze.
He had her burned, and was saved.
This girl's death shall be my redemption.
You're mad.
You can't commit another crime. Your conscience won't let you.
There is no crime I would 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.
Who's there?
Gringoire.
Darling.
You don't believe I killed him.
I know you didn't.
How's Aristotle?
-I have a cabbage for him. -Thank you, for Aristotle.
Your hands are like ice.
You aren't 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 toward my people...
...and how 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'm gone.
Don't talk like that.
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.
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. I hear 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'll 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 on the gallows, others are buried alive in dungeons.
By order of His Honor, the High Justice...
...destroy this devillsh 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.
-Witness... -Let us--
...this is not a public square.
If you do not observe the dignity of this court, I'll put you in prison.
Close the door.
Silence! Silence in the court.
Show them the evidence.
Witness, does this dagger belong to the Gypsy?
Yes.
Is it the dagger that killed Captain Phoebus?
How could she have killed a man so much stronger than herself?
It is 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 Honor, surely it's time to use the torture on this stubborn wench.
Not yet. Bring in the other prisoner.
Silence. Silence in the court.
Now the witchcraft is proved.
It is evident that the girl and the goat worked together.
I protest in the name of commonsense. In the name of man...
...who's 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 behavior of a goat.
If the goat doesn't know the human language...
...why don't the judges learn the goat's language?
Do you still deny that Satan is your master?
That you were sent to destroy man's body and soul...
...and deliver him into hell?
I am innocent.
Show her what she has to expect...
...if she refuses to admit her guilt.
It wasn't her.
If you want to know who it was, it was me.
Silence in the court. Silence!
Do you confess now?
I am innocent.
Your Honor, in view of the late hour, and the prisoner's attitude...
...there is nothing left but the torture.
Proceed. The court will adjourn.
What do you think?
She is as innocent as I am of killing the captain.
She'll confess under torture.
-They all do. -I hate to see her hang.
-Is the doctor here? -Yes.
Proceed.
Mercy...
Your Honor...
Your Honor, 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 Honor, the prisoner has confessed all.
Monsieur Procurator, we are ready to hear your requisitions.
Since the witchcraft is proved, and the crime exposed...
...we declare that we require penance...
-What is he saying? -He's demanding the death penalty.
...before the great portal of Notre Dame...
...and a sentence by virtue of which this witch, together with her goat...
...shall be executed in Place de Notre Dame.
We will now take the vote.
Wait.
What's this?
Blood.
Did you confess under torture?
Yes, but...
...I am innocent.
You say you are innocent. They say you are 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 shall please our lord, the king...
...you are to be taken barefoot with a rope around your neck...
...before Notre Dame to do public penance.
Thereafter to be hanged on the gallows, together with your accomplice, the goat.
May God have mercy on your soul.
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.
Sanctuary...sanctuary...
Thank heaven, the sanctuary will save her.
Oh, no, she killed one of us, and must die, regardless.
We will go to the king, and force him to suspend sanctuary.
Sanctuary...
But she's my wife. I must see her.
Not now. Believe me, she is safe here.
-But Quasimodo... -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...I'm deaf, you know.
You would think there would be nothing more wrong with me, wouldn't you?
But I'm deaf, too.
It's horrible.
I never realized...
...till now how...
...ugly I am.
Because you're so beautiful.
I'm not a man.
I'm not a beast.
I'm about as shapeless...
...as the man in the moon.
I'm deaf, you know...
...but you can speak to me by...
...signs.
Why did you save me?
You...
...asked me why I saved you.
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...
...hang you.
And that would kill me.
Yes.
It's good in the church.
It's high, high up...
Look...
People.
Look, little people...
Look, look.
Here...
Up here...
...friends.
Up there...
...babies.
Jacqueline.
Gabrielle.
Guillaume.
Big Marie.
She made me deaf, you know.
I can hear my friends.
Shall I play them for you?
I am proud to be the first to sign.
I never heard of such an outrage.
An imbecile hunchback takes the law into his own hands...
...and the king approves of it.
We will not be governed by the shouting of the rabble...
...nor can the judgement 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.
Come, Frollo.
Your signature.
Your name will force the king to decide in our favor.
That girl must hang, and this resolution will seal her fate.
I have something to say to you...
What is it, my child?
Gringoire...
Every man in the Court of Miracles 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.
To the people.
-The printer's waiting. -Words won't save her.
I have a better way: force.
I don't believe in force.
My friend, you are a dreamer, a scribbler, a poet.
What do you want?
To prove your point, or save Esmeralda?
The plague on you if you don't stop arguing like lawyers.
-Do something. -Right.
-No, wait. -Until 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 nobillty.
You forget that the king will read this, too.
He failed before when they destroyed the printing press.
I can't depend on pamphlets.
We march. Get ready.
And this pamphlet, you say, is belng distributed...
...by craftsmen and students throughout Paris?
Throughout the whole country, sire.
My craftsmen are awakening.
The result of your printing press, sire.
-If we had taken-- -Read on, read on.
"The people have faith in thelr king...
"...and are certain that so long as the courts...
"...continue to use torture instead of common sense...
"...he will refuse the nobles' demand...
"...to suspend the sanctuary of Notre Dame. "
A thrust at you, Frollo.
What's that?
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, sire.
I see.
This poet is cleverer than I thought.
This bold new way of appealing by 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 belng threatened.
-Have you read this? -I have, sire...
-...and all the people are aroused by it. -Good, my people...
...do your work. Go on.
Destroy these false nobles who want to be kings.
Hang, pillage, sack them.
On, my people, on.
But, sire, the cathedral...
...Notre Dame--They will destroy it.
-What do you mean? -Thousand 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.
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 be well.
But, sire, the Gypsy girl is innocent.
The trial by ordeal was against her.
Still, she is innocent.
If you're so sure she is innocent...
...you must know the real murderer.
Who is it? Speak up.
Your Majesty...
Who is it you are protecting?
I am waiting for my brother to speak.
Oh, 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.
-Who are you? -Maitre Gringoire.
Oh, the man that wrote the pamphlet. I would talk to 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? -Craftsmen.
-Craftsmen? -Citizens of Paris.
We have all read Maitre 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 you.
Charge!
People...
They've come to hang you.
But I'll 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 are afraid...
...pull the rope.
I can hear the bell.
What's the matter? Are you all 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's your courage, beggars?
Come on, we'll save her! Set her free.
Come on! 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 thank him...
...for furnishing us with a battering ram.
Come on, lads, do your work.
Come on, lads!
Forward!
Forward, lads.
Parisians...
...she's free.
We won.
The king has pardoned her.
Disperse and go your ways in peace.
The girl has been pardoned...
...and all her people are free to live anywhere in France.
We've won.
Why didn't you wait?
I told you I could save her without using force.
I thought that was just a poet's dream.
Don't thank me. Thank Quasimodo, who saved you from hanging.
And Gringoire, whose little printed papers set you free.
Your Grace.
Why was I not made of stone like thee?
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