巴黎聖母院（簡體書）

維克多·雨果的這部經典著作講述了外表醜陋、內心向善的敲鐘人卡西莫多和美麗善良的吉卜賽女郎愛斯美拉達之間盪氣迴腸的故事。卡西莫多受陰險的副主教指示前去擄奪愛斯美拉達，在接受懲罰時卻被她報以善意。在愛斯美拉達被錯誤指控時，是敲鐘人將她救下。兩人被共同捲入命運的漩渦，最終在陰謀和迫害下難逃厄運。故事情節曲折，想像瑰麗，精彩地呈現了美與醜、善與惡等恒久不變的主題。

維克多·雨果（1802―1885）是舉世聞名的法國文學巨匠，其創作生涯長達六十餘年，為世人留下寶貴的精神遺產。他出生在一個軍官家庭，自幼熱愛寫作，少年時期便已嶄露出不凡的詩歌才華。青年雨果受到新舊思潮的衝擊，逐漸脫離保守主義而傾向自由民主。後來拿破崙三世稱帝，雨果對此大加批判，被放逐國外。直到1870年法國恢復共和政體，他才得以結束近二十年的流亡生活，重返祖國。代表作有長篇小說《巴黎聖母院》《悲慘世界》《九三年》等。

目 錄
第1章 皮埃爾·格蘭古瓦
第2章 愛斯美拉達
第3章 尾隨漂亮姑娘
第4章 新婚之夜
第5章 圣母院
第6章 一滴淚報一滴水
第7章 向羊兒泄密的危險
第8章 神父
第9章 兩個黑衣男子
第10章 匕首
第11章 神秘的僧侶
第12章 拋卻一切希望
第13章 母親
第14章 聾子
第15章 三顆心
第16章 小小的劍
第17章 小鞋子
第18章 卡西莫多的婚姻

Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1 Pierre Gringoire
CHAPTER 2 Esmeralda
CHAPTER 3 Following a Pretty Girl
CHAPTER 4 The Bridal Night
CHAPTER 5 Notre Dame
CHAPTER 6 A Tear for a Drop of Water
CHAPTER 7 The Danger of Confiding Secrets to a Goat
CHAPTER 8 The Priest
CHAPTER 9 The Two Men in Black
CHAPTER 10 The Dagger
CHAPTER 11 The Mysterious Monk
CHAPTER 12 Leave All Hope Behind
CHAPTER 13 The Mother
CHAPTER 14 Deaf
CHAPTER 15 Three Hearts
CHAPTER 16 Little Sword
CHAPTER 17 The Little Shoe
CHAPTER 18 The Marriage of Quasimodo

第1章 皮埃爾·格蘭古瓦 1482 年 1 月 6 日那天清早，教堂的鐘聲鏗鏘響起，喚醒了巴黎市民，迎來歡騰的一天。這天不僅是宗教里的主顯節，也是巴黎人慶祝愚人節的日子。 為表慶賀，人們大放煙花，燃起篝火，還栽種上五月樹。不過，他們最愛的活動當屬推選“愚人王”了。 一大早，人們就聚集在司法宮外面。到了中午，這里會上演一出圣跡劇，每個人都巴望著能坐得近一點。主教大人和其他貴賓都會出席。 然而人群漸漸等得不耐煩了，開始躁動起來。他們大聲叫嚷，打破窗戶，還爬上教堂的柱子。群眾嘲弄著演員，大呼其名，取笑他們的戲服。而后他們合起聲來，有節奏地高喊：“圣跡劇！圣跡劇！圣跡劇！” 劇作者皮埃爾·格蘭古瓦變得緊張不安。他要早點開演嗎？假如現在就演的話，人群倒是能安靜下來，自己也能躲過一場騷亂。可主教大人和其他官員正午才到，那又該怎么辦？不候著就開演可會冒犯他們的。但另一方面，這幫吵鬧的市民要是把戲臺子砸了，圣跡劇可就演不成嘍。于是皮埃爾拿定主意，大喊一聲：“開演！” 好戲開演，大伙兒吹響口哨，歡呼雀躍。一切正漸入佳境時，官員們卻一個接一個地進場了。每次一到，就得宣布他們的大名。奧地利公爵到場時，還帶來好些使節，個個名字都得通報。每次一這樣，戲就被打斷。人們吵將起來，難以安靜。 皮埃爾試圖壓下這股勢頭，但無濟于事。于是他做出一個大膽的決定。 “重新開演！”他宣布。演員們一一就位，從頭開始表演。 早來的觀眾們可不樂意了，他們大喊：“你們這些白癡！我們早就看過這個了！你們不能重演！” 一個比利時官員站起身說：“這劇什麼名堂？他們根本沒打起來！那幾個人都沒怎么動，戲服也可笑得很。我寧愿去選愚人王，也不想看這么糟糕的演出！” 話音剛落，人群爆發出一陣雷鳴般的歡呼：“愚人王！咱們快選愚人王吧！” 轉眼之間，一切都準備就緒。莊嚴的大廳里有個小禮拜堂，被人們選來當作“搞怪舞臺”。人們打破門上方一扇小圓窗的玻璃，讓角逐愚人王的都站到桶上，從那個窗洞伸出腦袋。 狂熱的競爭者們擠滿了小禮拜堂，都迫不及待地想拿下愚人王的名號。門一關，比賽正式開始。 頭一張出現的面孔雙眼發紅，嘴巴張得老大，寬闊的額頭上皺紋密布，逗得觀眾們哄堂大笑。 更多的臉接二連三地探出來，狂笑聲在人群中久響不止。 然而接下來，一張最為丑陋的臉看了過來。這人有張馬蹄形的嘴巴，一只碩大的三角形鼻子，一口牙參差不齊。粗大的眉毛亂蓬蓬地蓋在他的左眼上，右眼則被一個大瘤子遮住。 人們發出勝利的歡呼：“咱們的冠軍！咱們新的愚人王！”是時候慶祝一番了！ 人們擁進小禮拜堂，把這個人抬出來。但是，當人們看到他的全身時，都倒抽了一口氣。原來他剛剛並沒有做鬼臉，這副尊容正是他的本來面目。 此人碩大的腦袋上滿是紅色毛發，雙肩之間隆起一個巨大的鼓包。兩只大腳配上一雙畸形的手，看上去像一尊巨人被打碎后，又一塊塊重新拼湊了起來。 市民們立馬認出此人是誰，有人高喊出聲：“他是獨眼怪卡西莫多！那個敲鐘人！巴黎圣母院的駝子！” 學生們捉弄挖苦著他，婦女們捂起自己的臉，另一些人則破口大罵。 “瞧這只大猴子！” “嗬，丑駝子！” “他就是魔鬼吧！” 卡西莫多站在禮拜堂門口，面色沉郁，神情莊重。有位觀眾走上前來，當面嘲笑他。可卡西莫多並不明白今兒是愚人節，他提起那個家伙，把他扔進人群里。 那個比利時官員朝卡西莫多走去。“你算得上是最丑的人了，”他拍拍這個駝子的肩膀說，“你可真是個大家伙！我倒挺想跟你比試下摔跤。” 但是卡西莫多沒有反應。 “呀！”官員喊道，“他敲鐘敲得聾了！” 不過參加節日活動的人們對此不以為意，反正他們選出愚人王了。人們給卡西莫多披上一件袍子，還讓他戴上紙王冠。隨后大家托著他坐上一頂轎子，抬起便走。 卡西莫多面帶微笑，俯視著腳下這些身形勻稱漂亮的男男女女。這幫人走出教堂，帶著他沿街游行去了。 CHAPTER 1 Pierre Gringoire On the morning of January 6, 1482, the church bells clanged, awakening the citizens of Paris on this joyous day. Not only was it a religious holiday known as Epiphany, but it was also the Festival of Fools, a celebration for the people. They celebrated with fireworks, bonfires, and the planting of a May Tree. But their favorite event was electing the Pope of Fools. People gathered early that morning outside the Palace of Justice. A mystery play would be performed at noon, and everyone wanted to sit close. The Bishop and other important guests were expected to arrive. But the crowd grew tired of waiting and began to stir. They shouted, broke windows, and climbed the church pillars. They taunted the actors, calling them names and making fun of their clothes. Then they joined together, chanting, “The play! The play! The play!” Pierre Gringoire, the author of the play, grew nervous. Should he start early? If he began now, the crowd would calm down, and he could avoid a riot. But what about the Bishop and other officials arriving at noon? They would be offended that he had not waited. On the other hand, there would be no play if the rowdy townspeople destroyed the stage. So Pierre made his decision. “Begin!” The crowd whistled and cheered as the play began. Things went well for a bit, but then the officials came in one by one. Each time they were announced by name. When the Duke of Austria arrived, he brought dozens of men with him—each called individually. Every time the play had to be stopped, the crowd grew loud and unruly. Pierre tried to keep the momentum, but it was no use. So he made a brave decision. “Start the play again!” he announced. The actors took their places and started from the beginning. This didn’t sit well with the audience members who’d arrived early. “You idiots! We’ve already seen this! You can’t start over!” An official from Belgium stood. “What sort of a play is this? They’re not even fighting! They barely move, and their costumes are ridiculous. I’d rather elect a Pope of Fools than be bothered with this awful performance!” This brought a thunderous huzzah! from the crowd. “Pope of Fools! Let’s elect the Pope of Fools!” In the twinkling of an eye, everything was ready. A little chapel inside the majestic hall was chosen for the “Scene of Grimaces.” The crowd broke the glass out of a little round window above the door. The competitors were instructed to stand on a barrel and put their heads through the empty circle. The chapel filled up with eager competitors, all anxious for the title of Pope of Fools. The doors were closed and the contest began. The first face to emerge had reddish eyes, a wide gaping mouth, and a broad forehead puckered with wrinkles. A roar of laughter rose up from the spectators. More faces popped up, one after the other. And more howls resounded from the crowd. But then, the most hideous of all faces peeked through. The man had a mouth shaped like a horseshoe, a huge triangular nose, and jagged teeth that stuck out in every direction. A large, stubbly eyebrow sheltered his left eye, and his right eye was covered in a knotty wart. People cheered in triumph. “Our winner! Our new Pope!” It was time to celebrate! They stormed into the chapel to carry him, but they gasped when they saw all of him. This man had not been making a face. This was how he always looked. His gigantic head was covered with red bristles, and between his shoulders was an enormous hump. His feet were massive and his hands monstrous. He looked like a giant who had been shattered, then put back together piece by piece. The townspeople recognized him instantly. One cried out, “It is Quasimodo, the Cyclops! The bell ringer! The hunchback of Notre Dame!” The students teased and taunted him. The women covered their faces. Others yelled insults.