The Hunchback of Notre Dame

BELLS CHIME

I've never heard a more beautiful Angelus.

Who is the bell-ringer of Notre Dame?

Quasimodo, Your Majesty. The people call him The Hunchback.

What an odd name.

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? A printing press, Your Majesty.

What is it for? To print books.

For whom? For the people. They will learn to read.

I can print a volume like this one in a few weeks, 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.

The printed book is less beautiful but the printing press is a miracle.

-A horrifying miracle.

-Horrifying? This small press?

Small things have a way of overmastering the great.

-This small press can destroy a kingdom.

-Come, my High Justice, don't exaggerate.

< What is that?

The first page of a new book, Your Majesty. Let me see.

"On the Freedom of Thought." Who wrote it?

Pierre Gringoire. Who is he? A French poet.

A heretic, sire. To spread him is to communicate disease.

It may benefit 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, triumphal monuments of the past.

They tower over the houses like mighty guardians of the Christian faith.

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 hand-writing of the past. The press is of OUR time. And I won't stop it.

-Break the press and hang the printer. They will destroy our old and holy order.

-No.

I will protect France from printed books, and from witches and gypsies,

the foreign race that is overrunning all of Europe.

Why do you stop us? No gypsies can enter Paris without a permit.

Why can't we? You're gypsies, foreigners.

You came yesterday. We come today.

SHOUTING

Let them pass. It's Fools' Day. We don't want these foreigners.

WOMAN SCREAMS

What's the matter? The hunchback of Notre Dame crossed my path.

Go home and light the candle.

That won't help. He's possessed. Are you going to the festival?

There are too many thieves there.

They'll get you you at home just as well.

What's he trying to do?

He thinks the Earth is round and is trying to walk to the Indies.

Some geographers and mathematicians also believe the Earth is round.

Do you recollect that letter we had from Christopher Columbus

who wrote that he could travel west and reach the Indies? It's flat.

I'm tempted to endow the venture. Our country could not afford to.

Columbus is the laughing stock of the Court of Spain.

The future may prove he was right. It isn't round.

What are you mumbling about? The Earth isn't round. 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.

Regretfully, 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...pennies... pennies...

-How's business?

-Bad.

-How's business?

-They're all watching that play.

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!

-CROWD LAUGH

- You stupid, ignorant drunkards. You...! I offer you truth. - We don't want your truth.

We will choose the King of Fools. CROWD CHEER

Applicants come forth. Men, women, the ugliest face wins the crown.

UGLY FACES!

UGLY FACES!

How do you like his face?

NO! NO!

NO!

NO!

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.

-We extract pleasure from horror.

-Only the mob, sire.

Think so? Look at our friends. They don't look uninterested.

- Horrible! - The prettiest ugliness I've seen!

Beautiful. What?

That girl, what a beauty!

I've never seen her before. She IS pretty.

What's her name? Esmeralda.

Esmeralda.

The people like her. Lend me half a livre. Half a livre?

-Afraid I won't repay you?

-She's a gypsy.

-She's pretty.

Doesn't she make your pulse beat faster? What about you, Doctor?

I'm a widower four times, but I could begin over again.

What's the matter?

That eye, staring at me.

Somebody's in there!

- It's an animal! - Let's get under there and see what it is.

Get under there. Go after him. Get him!

It's Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre Dame.

No, don't spoil their fun, Frollo. Stay here.

RIPPLE OF LAUGHTER

Make him the king!

Well, Quasimodo, we didn't know you were SO ugly.

We've never been so close to you before. Now we want to make you King of Fools. What do you say?

What's the matter? Are you deaf?

A plague to you! I offer you the fools' crown and you bite me!

< The bell's have made him deaf. < Maybe he's dumb too.

That makes him the perfect king. He can speak. He doesn't like to.

Show him the crown.

By unanimous vote, we now proclaim you King of Fools.

CROWD CHEER

# King Quasimodo, Quasimodo Ruler of fools, we bow

# All ye rabble, scum and scavengers of France

# Mark ye the fool with crown upon his ugly brow.

# Hail to the idiot King Quasimodo, Quasimodo

# King of the fools is Quasimodo

# Hail to the King King of the Fools Cockadoodle-doo. #

I am the true King of Fools. I battle for beauty and the ugly gets crowned.

What greater fool is there than I?

# ..Mark ye the fool with crown upon his ugly brow

# Hail to the idiot king Shout and sing, Quasimodo Quasimodo, King of the Fools... #

Stop!

He can't take away our King!

No bills, only petitions. But the actors must be paid.

This is no time to ask for money. It never is.

-Here, don't push.

-I must see the King.

Gypsy! Let me see your city permit.

Get her! Stop her!

Stop her!

Sanctuary.

We must arrest her. Church is sanctuary for all.

Gypsies can't enter Paris 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.

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. 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 in front of the King and all the people.

-Where is he now?

-Up in his tower. Tell him he must have nothing to do with anyone outside the Church.

He's your foundling. You picked him up on the church steps, not I.

Ever since he was a child, he has looked to you as his protector.

CHOIR: # Maria mater gratiae custodinos... #

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, like the others.

I've never prayed before...

..but the priest told me you help all those who are in need.

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.

Take all I have, but please help my people. They're in danger...

What are you doing in Notre Dame?

I'm praying.

You cannot. 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. You desecrate the stones on which you kneel.

-I?

-You dance publicly, awakening sinful desire in every man.

-Dancing isn't sinful.

-Get up!

-Leave me alone!

Your hand!

The mark of the devil is 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!

-Praying won't help you. You come from an evil race.

-You know nothing about my people.

-Honest people don't live by magic.

If we had the power of magic, would we choose to be outcasts, to be poor and persecuted?

-All gypsies should be destroyed.

-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, 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, almost quieter than in the woods, where the birds chatter and sing.

-The birds and deer eat out of my hand. They're not shy 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 showed me your goodness. He'll show me how to help my people.

Mother of God, gypsies are cruelly driven from country to country, so I HAVE to speak to the King.

-If he is kind, he WILL do something to help my people. Please make him listen to me.

-He will.

You will be heard.

But you must give me a good reason.

-They tell me gypsies are thieves.

-That's not true. When we steal, it's because we're hungry.

My people have good hearts. We love you. You have a good heart too 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. 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 worry. You'll enjoy living in the bell-tower high above Paris.

I often like to go there myself. Come, let me show you.

The bell-ringer will watch over you.

Don't be afraid. It's Quasimodo, the bell-ringer. He's harmless.

Don't run away. Come with me.

Help! Help!

You beast! You monster! Let me go! Let me go!

-Let me go!

-You unholy monster! LET HER GO.

Help!

Save her! > What are you yelling about?

There! The hunchback.

He's running away with the gypsy dancer!

Save her!

Stop him, Phoebus!

Where did he go?

There he goes. Get him!

We've got him. Take the girl.

- What's happened? - The guards have caught a criminal. - It's the hunchback.

You beast!

Let me hang him. Tie him up well.

Stop biting!

What's your name?

Esmeralda.

I'll remember it.

And I'll see you again.

Come on, you beast. Come on!

Come on, we'll go inside.

-No, I'd better wait out here.

-Never wait for a man.

-He'll come back.

-He will. Sure as his name is Phoebus.

Phoebus.

Congratulations. You got him. Thanks to your yelling so loudly.

I'd arouse all Paris against that. Is the gypsy your sweetheart?

Most special, Captain Phoebus. And remember, I will repay you, not she.

Oh!

Pennies, sir. Pennies, sir.

Pennies, sir.

SINISTER LAUGHTER

Pennies, sir.

Where's the King? He's busy. 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 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 won't pay his daily share.

Leave him alone!

You know what the rules are. Pay your share or...

I'll give you a count of three to change your mind.

One...

two...

three.

Who's that?

A stranger who was prowling around.

How did he get in? Is the guard asleep? Let me see him.

Bow down before the King of Beggars.

-Who are you?

-Permit me to introduce myself.

Maitre Gringoire, doctor of the seven liberal arts. Er...I...

-Do you know where you are?

-The Court of Miracles where the blind can see and the lame walk.

-Do you know what'll happen to you?

-I can imagine. Let me hang him.

-He's a spy.

-He's a doctor. I'm a poet.

-Anyone caught here who's not a beggar or a thief must hang.

-No!

-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...intended to write a poem in your honour to glorify your reign.

-Let me hang him!

-Quiet! You won't cheat me?

-You will live in history. Imagine!

-Don't put your oar in.

Besides, I belong here. As a poet, I am already a vagabond and I can learn quickly to be a thief.

I will amuse you with a rhyming eloquence you've never dreamed of.

Good intentions are not enough. You'll have to undergo a test.

We'll see if you're any good. Get the bellboy ready!

Bring it down!

-Up on the stool. One leg.

-I'll break my neck.

-Save us a hanging.

Take the purse out of that pocket. If one 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.

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

Don't tinkle, please, little bells.

Don't jingle.

My...life depends on you.

There must be something easier I could try. Yes. Take the bellboy's place.

Too bad! And I'd almost come to like him.

-Clopin...

-Huh?

-Why not give him a chance to marry one of the girls?

-Wait!

-Let me hang him.

SHRILL WHISTLE

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-ng-ng.

Going-ng-ng.

Goodbye. And thank you, my friend.

-Gone.

-Gone. That neck!

Wait!

-Are you going to hang that man?

-Unless you take him for your husband.

I'll take him.

Well?

Do you want her or not?

My rope!

The wedding jug.

Take it from Esmeralda, drink and break it.

CHEERING

And he had SUCH a nice neck.

Let's escort them to the bridal chamber.

# Ta-ra ta-ta Under the gallows tonight

# Ta-ra, ta-ta Beggars are wed tonight

# Happy are the cats and mice Even the lice

# Ta-ra, ta-ta Under the gallows tonight

# 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. The woman builds the fire.

-It was a man who first brought it to Earth.

-Who?

-Prometheus.

-Who is that?

A god who held a rod to the sun until it burned into flame.

He created clay creatures, blew 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.

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.

Oh, 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 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! I'm ready to live with you as it shall please you.

As husband and wife, or as brother and sister.

-I'm enough of a philosopher to hold everything in the proper balance.

-You're a juggler!

-I can't juggle.

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.

Balance it.

It's no use.

WOMEN SCREAM

Something must have happened. The whole court...

Esmeralda?

ESMERALDA!

-What's the matter?

-He has to arrest all the gypsies.

-Only the girls.

Round them up! Round them up!

Good morning, Your Honour.

-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.

-Find out at once.

-Yes, Your Honour.

Quiet! Quiet!

Speak up, prisoner. The judge is deaf.

Your name?

Age?

Your profession?

Emile, have you got all the prisoner's answers down?

LAUGHTER

You are accused...

of...

..disturbing the peace,

abducting a woman,

resisting the King's guards.

What is your defence? Quick and to the point!

Quasimodo.

Guilty?

Twenty-five.

For that you shall be whipped.

Bell-ringer.

Your Honour, the prisoner is deaf. He hears nothing.

Ah, that's different.

For that insolence, you shall spend another hour on the pillory.

Next case.

TRUMPETERS BLOW FANFARE

"We hereby announce that Quasimodo is to receive 50 strokes of the cat o'nine tails for attacking a woman.

"Thereafter he will be exposed for one hour to public disgrace." CROWD BOOS

-To think that yesterday on the same spot, they crowned him their king. Today...

-That's life.

He's getting what he deserves.

If the nobles got what they deserved we wouldn't have enough pillories.

Oh, Master Pierrat!

CROWD CHEERS

One.

-I can't stand it.

-You could if you'd been whipped once.

-Have you?

-Twice.

-Now I buy protection.

-From whom?

-The nobility.

-The guardians of the old and holy traditions.

-Yes. They buy it from the King and sell it to us.

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.

-The ruling class didn't say, "Work or starve." They said, "Starve for you shall not work."

-And I starved.

-Many did, so I founded the Beggars' Guild.

-Of which I am member 7419.

You needn't be ashamed. We're not great thieves like the nobles.

-They plunder the nation.

-The moral difference is in our favour.

-Right. One day we'll write a book on it.

We will but right now we must stop the whipping of that poor devil.

-Only the Chief Justice can do that.

-Isn't the Archbishop his brother?

-I don't think he can help, but try.

Twenty-nine...thirty...

thirty-one...

That's no whipping. He hasn't shed a tear. It's the whipper's fault.

What do you mean? Our whipper would make him cry. He's better than ours?

Isn't there any way to stop the whipping?

I wish I had the power. Quasimodo belongs to the world of the Church.

Yes. But if he ventures into the world outside, he must accept its laws.

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's not the thief and murderer, but the thousands of heretics and free thinkers that are our problem.

-We have to build more prisons.

-No, we need more executions. You're too lenient. What did you find out?

-He has already been sentenced.

-Where is he?

-At the pillory.

Water.

WATER.

WATER.

WAT...

Water...

Water.

-See that?

-I thought he loved the hunchback.

Never trust a man with pinched nostrils and thin lips.

-Esmeralda! Where have you been?

-I went to tell my people that the King promised to help us.

< Water!

Water!

CROWD: Water(!)

WATER!

CROWD: Water!

< Wa-ter!

CROWD LAUGH

There's your water.

Claude, I couldn't prevent it.

-Before I knew what was happening, he was already sentenced.

-What do you think made him pursue the girl?

He never did anything like it before. He wouldn't 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 is up. Release him.

Get up! Get up!

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 men with respect,

"for only thus will we reach the fulfilment of our destiny."

No wonder Frollo fears the printed book.

The printing press seems to be a great invention. It is. Ouch!

You're hurting me. I wouldn't have to rub so hard if Your Majesty bathed more often.

How often? Twice a year, at least.

Would that make me live longer?

It would. Good. I want to live 100 years...

< ..And more, with your new elixir.

BELLS RING What's the matter?

Why are the bells ringing at this hour? And so strangely. What's the matter with Quasimodo?

See? It IS Quasimodo.

He's getting crazier every day. Yes, he certainly has changed.

What do you mean? It started when that gypsy girl give him some water.

Yes, he keeps mumbling her name. Maybe he's in love with her.

MUSIC AND LAUGHTER

Who is she? The gypsy dancer.

Gringoire, what are you doing?

-The world looks beautiful this way. One should always look at it standing on one's head.

-Be sensible!

-It's monstrous to be as sensible as I am.

-Remember why you're here.

To divert the noble Lords and Ladies from the ennui of 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 have wakened 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 have questioned my conscience through the deep hours of the night, only to waken in greater confusion.

-They are waiting for me.

-I don't want them to see you dance.

-You're breaking my wrist.

-I did not mean to hurt you.

Come away from here. I can't bear it that all these men will see you dance. I want you for myself alone.

If I can't have that, it will be my end...

and yours.

Ladies and gentlemen, next on our programme, the flower of Egypt, the dancing wonder, Esmeralda.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is really not Esmeralda.

It is Aristotle, the mathematician, the miracle goat. He can tell how much money you have in your purse.

How much money have I? LAUGHTER

BAND STRIKES UP

< Isn't that the gypsy girl?

Come on, Fleur. Let's all dance.

Bimbo, this is no party for us. Come on, Aristotle.

Who are you? Where do you come from?

Speak up. I'm a soldier, accustomed to being 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.

-I love you?

-For ever?

-For ever's a long time.

I'm a soldier and gamble swiftly with life and death.

I'm willing to throw my life away for you today but tomorrow... Love is only a PART of my life.

It's a very sweet part, I admit.

To me it is everything, 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.

Esmeralda...

-Say again you love me.

-I love you.

-More than anything in the world?

-I can't do more than 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.

-Let's stay, my love.

WOMAN SCREAMS

Murder! Murder! Murder! Captain Phoebus has been killed.

MURDER!

< The gypsy...she did it. < Yes, there's the knife. < Arrest her.

Guillaume, why don't you stop him?

It's impossible. We can't make him stop.

We've tried everything. Go and get more help.

He'll waken all Paris.

BELLS STOP

He's stopped.

-Jean!

-Claude. I've been looking for you.

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.

I want you to hear some new music. There's a young Italian composer. He's written the most beautiful...

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."

-"I shall appoint a place whither he shall flee."

-I can't help you.

-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, so she must die.

-For your crime?

-That's the devil's logic, you can't believe that.

-I do.

A sorceress once bewitched Bruno di Firenze. He had her burned and was saved.

-This girl's death shall be my redemption.

-You can't commit another crime.

I would commit any crime to free myself of her.

Then my duty is to help the girl.

Claude!

You are my brother.

I am no longer your brother.

-Who's there?

-Gringoire.

-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 toward my people,

and how my own silly heart betrayed me.

-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.

-Gringoire...

-Yes, darling?

Forgive me, even though it IS too late.

For what?

About Captain Phoebus.

Even before he was killed, I knew he didn't love me. I was a fool.

Don't speak of it.

-You're not angry with me?

-Never.

Oh, thank you, Gringoire!

-I hear someone coming.

-Don't go.

I must work to get you free.

What is it? Quiet. There's somebody talking.

It seems to come from over there.

Look, it's Quasimodo.

How can we save her? How can we save her? How can we save her?

Here is the appeal. Quick, Master Fisher, quick.

We'll print it at once. To the people of Paris... Not so fast.

When can we get 100 copies? Tomorrow. But who will distribute them?

Every student, every beggar in the Court of Miracles. Let me see.

"Parisians, day after day innocent people disappear to the dungeons..."

By order of 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 yourselves.

-Let us appeal to the King...

-Witness...

This is not a public square. Observe the dignity of the court or I will put you in prison.

COURT MURMURS

Silence in the court!

Silence! >

Show him the evidence.

Does this belong to the gypsy?

Yes.

-This dagger killed Captain Phoebus.

-How could she have killed a man much stronger than herself?

It's obvious she was just defending herself against the real murderer.

-You know she's innocent. These witnesses have proved it.

-Sit down.

COURT MURMURS

Silence in the court. >

-Your Honour, surely it's time to use the torture on this stubborn wench.

-No. Bring in the other prisoner.

PEOPLE ALL TALK AT ONCE

Silence! Silence in the court! >

ARISTOTLE BLEATS

Witchcraft is proved. They work together.

-I protest in the name of man who is not to be judged by superstition.

-Remove the witness.

It's a shame when the fate of a girl depends on the behaviour of a goat.

Judges should learn 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.

FAINT LAUGHTER

LAUGHTER SPREADS

Silence in court! >

SILENCE! >

Do you confess now?

I am innocent.

-Your Honour, there is nothing left but the torture.

-Proceed.

- What do you think? - She didn't kill that captain.

- She'll confess under torture. - They all do.

Is the doctor here? 'Yes.' Proceed.

Mercy. MERCY!

ESMERALDA SCREAMS

Your Honour, His Majesty the King is in the courtroom.

Let's stay here. I detest trials but our archbishop has made my existence unbearable

with his appeals on behalf of this girl.

Silence.

The prisoner has confessed.

Monsieur le Procurator, we are ready to hear your requisitions.

"Coram stryga demonstrata et crimine patente..."

-What's he saying?

-He's demanding the death penalty.

"..ecclesiae cathedralis atque sententiam in virtute cujus ista stryga cum sua capella

"in Place Notre Dame executatae sint."

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, you are to be taken barefoot, with a rope around your neck, before Notre Dame

to do public penance,

then to be hanged on the gallows with your accomplice, the goat.

# A bird was my mother

# My father another

# Over the water... #

CROWD SHOUTS

Esmeralda!

-Gringoire!

-Esmeralda!

CHOIR SING "KYRIE ELEISON"

You have been kind to me.

I kneel before you, innocent of crime.

This girl cannot do public penance on holy ground because she is not guilty.

She'll hang without public penance.

-You won't dare.

-She is a witch and must die.

# Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

# Hallelujah! Exultate! Jubilate...! #

Sanctuary! Sanctuary!

# Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! #

Sanctuary! Sanctuary!

Thank heaven. The sanctuary will save her.

She killed one of us and must die. The King must suspend sanctuary.

Sanctuary! Sanctuary!

She's my wife. I must see her. Not now.

But Quasimodo... He will not harm her.

He did once before. That was not his fault.

Eat.

Eat.

I am 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 would 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...

..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.

Oh, I...I...I'm deaf, you know,

but...but you CAN speak to me... by signs.

Why did you save me?

You ask 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 in the church.

It's high...high.

Look.

Look...people.

Little people.

Look. Look here.

Up there, friends!

Up there!

Babies!

Jacqui!

Gabrielle!

Guillaume!

Big Marie.

She... She made me deaf, you know.

Yes.

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 takes the law into his own hands and the King approves.

We will not be governed by the mob. The church cannot repeal a sentence.

When the King reads this, he will do away with sanctuary for all time.

Count Frollo...

Your signature.

Your name will make the King decide in our favour. That girl must hang. This resolution will seal her fate.

I have something to say to you...

What is it, my child?

Gringoire.

Gringoire.

Gringoire! Gringoire!

Every man in the Court of Miracles is ready to fight for Esmeralda.

We'll keep our right of sanctuary.

I've got to finish this appeal to the King...to the people.

-The printer is waiting.

-Words won't save her. Force will.

-I don't believe in force.

-You're a dreamer. Do you want to prove your point or save Esmeralda?

-Stop arguing like lawyers. DO something.

-Right.

-No, wait.

Till they hang Esmeralda. My army of beggars is ready to march.

No, Clopin. You must wait.

-What for?

-My pamphlet will work.

-Remember the power of the nobility.

-The King will read this.

He failed before with the printing press. We march. Get ready!

This pamphlet is being distributed by craftsmen and students in Paris?

Throughout the whole country.

-My craftsmen are awakening.

-The result of your printing press.

Read on!

"The people have faith in the King and are sure that while the courts use torture instead of common sense,

-"he will refuse the nobles' demands to end the sanctuary of Notre Dame."

-A thrust at you, Frollo.

What's that?

SHOUTING IN STREET

Why are they gathering out there?

Olivier. >

Sire. What's going on? >

The people have come here to make sure you will not suspend sanctuary.

-What does all this mean?

-This pamphlet, sire.

Oh. I see.

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.

For whom?

Your Majesty, the archbishop has arrived. Let him come in. >

Sanctuary is being threatened... Have you read this?

I have and all the people are aroused. Good.

My people, go on! Destroy these false nobles who want to be kings. Hang, pillage, sack them!

Sire, they will destroy Notre Dame. What do you mean?

The beggars fear that the girl isn't safe and are storming Notre Dame.

I won't have that! It's your fault. < My fault?

- If you hadn't interfered, the girl would have been hanged. - But the gypsy girl is innocent.

< Huh? 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 are you protecting?

I'm waiting for my brother to speak.

Is this a personal matter between you two?

-It's the hunchback.

-No.

Then who is it?

-Who is the murderer?

-I am.

I did it and I'd 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! Who are you? Maitre Gringoire.

I would talk with you. Arrest Frollo. Quick. Quick!

Come in.

DOOR SLAMS

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 or we'll break into your church.

What's all this about?

-Who are you?

-Craftsmen.

-Craftsmen?

We've 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 you.

Charge!

People. They've come to hang you but...but I'll keep them away.

If you don't leave here they can't catch you. I won't let anybody in.

If you are afraid...

pull the rope. I can hear the bell.

Are you all cowards?

You can't let the nobles hang an innocent girl. She's one of us.

Are you afraid of a stick of wood? Where's your courage?

Come on, we'll save her, set her free. Come on! Come on!

Come on! Fight! Don't sneak away like frightened rats.

Oh! AH-H !

What are you afraid of? It's only Quasimodo, the bell-ringer.

We should thank him for furnishing us with a battering ram. Come on!

Forward, lads!

Forward...

Forward, lads.

Molten metal, molten metal, molten metal.

Aha!

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

AH-HA-HA!

Ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha...

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ah-ha-ha.

BELL RINGS

FROLLO SCREAMS

TRUMPET FANFARE

Parisians, Parisians...

she's free! We've won! The King has pardoned her.

HURRAY-AY-AY!

Disperse and go your ways in peace.

The girl has been pardoned and her people are free to live anywhere in France.

We've won... Gringoire!

Clopin!

Why didn't you wait? I told you I'd save her without using force.

I thought that was just a poet's dream.

Don't thank me. Thank Quasimodo for saving you from hanging,

and Gringoire, whose little printed papers set you free.

-Gringoire!

-Esmeralda. Your Grace.

CROWD CHEER

Why was I not made of stone, like these?

Subtitles by Dorothy Moore BBC 1987