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
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。
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.