the hunchback of notre dame-第49章

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tain　from　him　the　trick　desired。　　He　had　been　trained　to　this　by　the　gypsy；　who　possessed；　in　these　delicate　arts；　so　rare　a　talent　that　two　months　had　sufficed　to　teach　the　goat　to　write；　with　movable　letters；　the　word　〃Phoebus。〃


*　　An　ancient　Burgundian　coin。

**　An　ancient　French　coin。


〃'Phoebus！'〃　said　the　priest；　〃why　'Phoebus'？〃

〃I　know　not；〃　replied　Gringoire。　　〃Perhaps　it　is　a　word　which　she　believes　to　be　endowed　with　some　magic　and　secret　virtue。　　She　often　repeats　it　in　a　low　tone　when　she　thinks　that　she　is　alone。〃

〃Are　you　sure；〃　persisted　Claude；　with　his　penetrating　glance；　〃that　it　is　only　a　word　and　not　a　name？〃

〃The　name　of　whom？〃　said　the　poet。

〃How　should　I　know？〃　said　the　priest。

〃This　is　what　I　imagine；　messire。　　These　Bohemians　are　something　like　Guebrs；　and　adore　the　sun。　　Hence；　Phoebus。〃

〃That　does　not　seem　so　clear　to　me　as　to　you；　Master　Pierre。〃

〃After　all；　that　does　not　concern　me。　　Let　her　mumble　her　Phoebus　at　her　pleasure。　　One　thing　is　certain；　that　Djali　loves　me　almost　as　much　as　he　does　her。〃

〃Who　is　Djali？〃

〃The　goat。〃

The　archdeacon　dropped　his　chin　into　his　hand；　and　appeared　to　reflect　for　a　moment。　　All　at　once　he　turned　abruptly　to　Gringoire　once　more。

〃And　do　you　swear　to　me　that　you　have　not　touched　her？〃

〃Whom？〃　said　Gringoire；　〃the　goat？〃

〃No；　that　woman。〃

〃My　wife？　　I　swear　to　you　that　I　have　not。〃

〃You　are　often　alone　with　her？〃

〃A　good　hour　every　evening。〃

Porn　Claude　frowned。

〃Oh！　oh！　~Solus　cum　sola　non　cogitabuntur　orare　Pater　Noster~。〃

〃Upon　my　soul；　I　could　say　the　~Pater~；　and　the　~Ave　Maria~；　and　the　~Credo　in　Deum　patrem　omnipotentem~　without　her　paying　any　more　attention　to　me　than　a　chicken　to　a　church。〃

〃Swear　to　me；　by　the　body　of　your　mother；〃　repeated　the　archdeacon　violently；　〃that　you　have　not　touched　that　creature　with　even　the　tip　of　your　finger。〃

〃I　will　also　swear　it　by　the　head　of　my　father；　for　the　two　things　have　more　affinity　between　them。　　But；　my　reverend　master；　permit　me　a　question　in　my　turn。〃

〃Speak；　sir。〃

〃What　concern　is　it　of　yours？〃

The　archdeacon's　pale　face　became　as　crimson　as　the　cheek　of　a　young　girl。　　He　remained　for　a　moment　without　answering；　then；　with　visible　embarrassment；

〃Listen；　Master　Pierre　Gringoire。　　You　are　not　yet　damned；　so　far　as　I　know。　　I　take　an　interest　in　you；　and　wish　you　well。　　Now　the　least　contact　with　that　Egyptian　of　the　demon　would　make　you　the　vassal　of　Satan。　　You　know　that　'tis　always　the　body　which　ruins　the　soul。　　Woe　to　you　if　you　approach　that　woman！　　That　is　all。〃

〃I　tried　once；〃　said　Gringoire；　scratching　his　ear；　〃it　was　the　first　day：　but　I　got　stung。〃

〃You　were　so　audacious；　Master　Pierre？〃　and　the　priest's　brow　clouded　over　again。

〃On　another　occasion；〃　continued　the　poet；　with　a　smile；　〃I　peeped　through　the　keyhole；　before　going　to　bed；　and　I　beheld　the　most　delicious　dame　in　her　shift　that　ever　made　a　bed　creak　under　her　bare　foot。〃

〃Go　to　the　devil！〃　cried　the　priest；　with　a　terrible　look；　and；　giving　the　amazed　Gringoire　a　push　on　the　shoulders；　he　plunged；　with　long　strides；　under　the　gloomiest　arcades　of　the　cathedral。




CHAPTER　III。

THE　BELLS。



After　the　morning　in　the　pillory；　the　neighbors　of　Notre…　Dame　thought　they　noticed　that　Quasimodo's　ardor　for　ringing　had　grown　cool。　　Formerly；　there　had　been　peals　for　every　occasion；　long　morning　serenades；　which　lasted　from　prime　to　compline；　peals　from　the　belfry　for　a　high　mass；　rich　scales　drawn　over　the　smaller　bells　for　a　wedding；　for　a　christening；　and　mingling　in　the　air　like　a　rich　embroidery　of　all　sorts　of　charming　sounds。　　The　old　church；　all　vibrating　and　sonorous；　was　in　a　perpetual　joy　of　bells。　　One　was　constantly　conscious　of　the　presence　of　a　spirit　of　noise　and　caprice；　who　sang　through　all　those　mouths　of　brass。　　Now　that　spirit　seemed　to　have　departed；　the　cathedral　seemed　gloomy；　and　gladly　remained　silent；　festivals　and　funerals　had　the　simple　peal；　dry　and　bare；　demanded　by　the　ritual；　nothing　more。　　Of　the　double　noise　which　constitutes　a　church；　the　organ　within；　the　bell　without；　the　organ　alone　remained。　　One　would　have　said　that　there　was　no　longer　a　musician　in　the　belfry。　　Quasimodo　was　always　there；　nevertheless；　what；　then；　had　happened　to　him？　　Was　it　that　the　shame　and　despair　of　the　pillory　still　lingered　in　the　bottom　of　his　heart；　that　the　lashes　of　his　tormentor's　whip　reverberated　unendingly　in　his　soul；　and　that　the　sadness　of　such　treatment　had　wholly　extinguished　in　him　even　his　passion　for　the　bells？　or　was　it　that　Marie　had　a　rival　in　the　heart　of　the　bellringer　of　Notre…Dame；　and　that　the　great　bell　and　her　fourteen　sisters　were　neglected　for　something　more　amiable　and　more　beautiful？

It　chanced　that；　in　the　year　of　grace　1482；　Annunciation　Day　fell　on　Tuesday；　the　twenty…fifth　of　March。　　That　day　the　air　was　so　pure　and　light　that　Quasimodo　felt　some　returning　affection　for　his　bells。　　He　therefore　ascended　the　northern　tower　while　the　beadle　below　was　opening　wide　the　doors　of　the　church；　which　were　then　enormous　panels　of　stout　wood；　covered　with　leather；　bordered　with　nails　of　gilded　iron；　and　framed　in　carvings　〃very　artistically　elaborated。〃

On　arriving　in　the　lofty　bell　chamber；　Quasimodo　gazed　for　some　time　at　the　six　bells　and　shook　his　head　sadly；　as　though　groaning　over　some　foreign　element　which　had　interposed　itself　in　his　heart　between　them　and　him。　　But　when　he　had　set　them　to　swinging；　when　he　felt　that　cluster　of　bells　moving　under　his　hand；　when　he　saw；　for　he　did　not　hear　it；　the　palpitating　octave　ascend　and　descend　that　sonorous　scale；　like　a　bird　hopping　from　branch　to　branch；　when　the　demon　Music；　that　demon　who　shakes　a　sparkling　bundle　of　strette；　trills　and　arpeggios；　had　taken　possession　of　the　poor　deaf　man；　he　became　happy　once　more；　he　forgot　everything；　and　his　heart　expanding；　made　his　face　beam。

He　went　and　came；　he　beat　his　hands　together；　he　ran　from　rope　to　rope；　he　animated　the　six　singers　with　voice　and　gesture；　like　the　leader　of　an　orchestra　who　is　urging　on　intelligent　musicians。

〃Go　on；〃　said　he；　〃go　on；　go　on；　Gabrielle；　pour　out　all　thy　noise　into　the　Place；　'tis　a　festival　to…day。　　No　laziness；　Thibauld；　thou　art　relaxing；　go　on；　go　on；　then；　art　thou　rusted；　thou　sluggard？　　That　is　well！　quick！　quick！　let　not　thy　clapper　be　seen！　　Make　them　all　deaf　like　me。　　That's　it；　Thibauld；　bravely　done！　　Guillaume！　　Guillaume！　thou　art　the　largest；　and　Pasquier　is　the　smallest；　and　Pasquier　does　best。　　Let　us　wager　that　those　who　hear　him　will　understand　him　better　than　they　understand　thee。　　Good！　good！　my　Gabrielle；　stoutly；　more　stoutly！　　Eli！　　what　are　you　doing　up　aloft　there；　you　two　Moineaux　（sparrows）？　　I　do　not　see　you　making　the　least　little　shred　of　noise。　　What　is　the　meaning　of　those　beaks　of　copper　which　seem　to　be　gaping　when　they　should　sing？　　Come；　work　now；　'tis　the　Feast　of　the　Annunciation。　　The　sun　is　fine；　the　chime　must　be　fine　also。　　Poor　Guillaume！　thou　art　all　out　of　breath；　my　big　fellow！〃

He　was　wholly　absorbed　in　spurring　on　his　bells；　all　six　of　which　vied　with　each　other　in　leaping　and　shaking　their　shining　haunches；　like　a　noisy　team　of　Spanish　mules；　pricked　on　here　and　there　by　the　apostrophes　of　the　muleteer。

All　at　once；　on　letting　his　glance　fall　between　the　large　slate　scales　which　cover　the　perpendicular　wall　of　the　bell　tower　at　a　certain　height；　he　beheld　on　the　square　a　young　girl；　fantastically　dressed；　stop；　spread　out　on　the　ground　a　carpet；　on　which　a　small　goat　took　up　its　post；　and　a　group　of　spectators　collect　around　her。　　This　sight　suddenly　changed　the　course　of　his　ideas；　and　congealed　his　enthusiasm　as　a　breath　of　air　congeals　melted　rosin。　　He　halted；　turned　his　back　to　the　bells；　and　crouched　down　behind　the　projecting　roof　of　slate；　fixing　upon　the　dancer　that　dreamy；　sweet；　and　tender　look　which　had　already　astonished　the　archdeacon　on　one　occasion。　　Meanwhile；　the　forgotten　bells　died　away　abruptly　and　all　together；　to　the　great　disappointment　of　the　lovers　of　bell　ringing；　who　were　listening　in　good　faith　to　the　peal　from　above　the　Pont　du　Change；　and　who　went　away　dumbfounded；　like　a　dog　who　has　been　offered　a　bone　and　given　a　stone。




CHAPTER　IV。

~ANArKH~。


It　chanced　that　upon　a　fine　morning　in　this　same　month　of　March；　I　think　it　was　on　Saturday　the　29th；　Saint　Eustache's　day；　our　young　friend　the　student；　Jehan　Frollo　du　Moulin；　perceived；　as　he　was　dressing　himself；　that　his　breeches；　which　contained　his　purse；　gave　out　no　metallic　ring。　　〃Poor　purse；〃　he　said；　drawing　it　from　his　fob；　〃what！　not　the　smallest　parisis！　how　cruelly　the　dice；　beer…pots；　and　Venus　have　depleted　thee！　　How　empty；　wrinkled；　limp；　thou　art！　　Thou　resemblest　the　throat　of　a　fury！　　I　ask　you；　Messer　Cicero；　and　Messer　Seneca；　copies　of　whom；　all　dog's…eared；　I　behold　scattered　on　the　floor；　what　profits　it　me　to　know；　better　than　any　governor　of　the　mint；　or　any　Jew　on　the　Pont　aux　Changeurs；　that　a　golden　crown　stamped　with　a　crown　is　worth　thirty…five　unzains　of　twenty…five　sous；　and　eight　deniers　parisis　apiece；　and　that　a　crown　stamped　with　a　crescent　is　worth　thirty…six　unzains　of　twenty…six　sous；　six　deniers　tournois　apiece；　if　I　have　not　a　single　wretched　black　liard　to　risk　on　the　double…six！　　Oh！　　Consul　Cicero！　this　is　no　calamity　from　which　one　extricates　one's　self　with　periphrases；　~quemadmodum~；　and　~verum　enim　vero~！〃

He　dressed　himself　sadly。　　An　idea　had　occurred　to　him　as　he　laced　his　boots；　but　he　rejected　it　at　first；　nevertheless；　it　returned；　and　he　put　on　his　waistcoat　wrong　side　out；　an　evident　sign　of　violent　internal　combat。　　At　last　he　dashed　his　cap　roughly　on　the　floor；　and　exclaimed：　〃So　much　the　worse！　Let　come　of　it　what　may。　　I　am　going　to　my　brother！　　I　shall　catch　a　sermon；　but　I　shall　catch　a　crown。〃

Then　be　hastily　donned　his　long　jacket　with　furred　half…　sleeves；　picked　up　his　cap；　and　went　out　like　a　man　driven　to　desperation。

He　descended　the　Rue　de　la　Harpe　toward　the　City。　　As　he　passed　the　Rue　de　la　Huchette；　the　odor　of　those　admirable　spits；　which　were　incessantly　turning；　tickled　his　olfactory　apparatus；　and　he　bestowed　a　loving　glance　toward　the　Cyclopean　roast；　which　one　day　drew　from　the　Franciscan　friar；　Calatagirone；　this　pathetic　exclamation：　~Veramente；　queste　rotisserie　sono　cosa　stupenda~！*　　But　Jehan　had　not　the　wherewithal　to　buy　a　breakfast；　and　he　plunged；　with　a　profound　sigh；　under　the　gateway　of　the　Petit…Chatelet；　that　enormous　double　trefoil　of　massive　towers　which　guarded　the　entrance　to　the　City。


*　　Truly；　these　roastings　are　a　stupendous　thing！


He　did　not　even　take　the　trouble　to　cast　a　stone　in　passing；　as　was　the　usage；　at　the　miserable　statue　of　that　Périnet　Leclerc　who　had　delivered　up　the　Paris　of　Charles　VI。　to　the　English；　a　crime　which　his　effigy；　its　face　battered　with　stones　and　soiled　with　mud；　expiated　for　three　centuries　at　the　corner　of　the　Rue　de　la　Harpe　and　the　Rue　de　Buci；　as　in　an　eternal　pillory。

The　Petit…Pont　traversed；　the　Rue　Neuve…Sainte…Geneviève　crossed；　Jehan　de　Molendino　found　himself　in　front　of　Notre…　Dame。　　Then　indecision　seized　upon　him　once　more；　and　he　paced　for　several　minutes　r