When Pierre Gringoire arrived on the Place de Grève, he was paralyzed. He had directed his course across the Pont aux Meuniers, in order to avoid the rabble1 on the Pont au Change, and the pennons of Jehan Fourbault; but the wheels of all the bishop2's mills had splashed him as he passed, and his doublet was drenched3; it seemed to him besides, that the failure of his piece had rendered him still more sensible to cold than usual. Hence he made haste to draw near the bonfire, which was burning magnificently in the middle of the Place. But a considerable crowd formed a circle around it.
"Accursed Parisians!" he said to himself (for Gringoire, like a true dramatic poet, was subject to monologues) "there they are obstructing5 my fire! Nevertheless, I am greatly in need of a chimney corner; my shoes drink in the water, and all those cursed mills wept upon me! That devil of a Bishop of Paris, with his mills! I'd just like to know what use a bishop can make of a mill! Does he expect to become a miller6 instead of a bishop? If only my malediction7 is needed for that, I bestow8 it upon him! and his cathedral, and his mills! Just see if those boobies will put themselves out! Move aside! I'd like to know what they are doing there! They are warming themselves, much pleasure may it give them! They are watching a hundred fagots burn; a fine spectacle!"
On looking more closely, he perceived that the circle was much larger than was required simply for the purpose of getting warm at the king's fire, and that this concourse of people had not been attracted solely9 by the beauty of the hundred fagots which were burning.
In a vast space left free between the crowd and the fire, a young girl was dancing.
Whether this young girl was a human being, a fairy, or an angel, is what Gringoire, sceptical philosopher and ironical10 poet that he was, could not decide at the first moment, so fascinated was he by this dazzling vision.
She was not tall, though she seemed so, so boldly did her slender form dart11 about. She was swarthy of complexion12, but one divined that, by day, her skin must possess that beautiful golden tone of the Andalusians and the Roman women. Her little foot, too, was Andalusian, for it was both pinched and at ease in its graceful13 shoe. She danced, she turned, she whirled rapidly about on an old Persian rug, spread negligently14 under her feet; and each time that her radiant face passed before you, as she whirled, her great black eyes darted16 a flash of lightning at you.
All around her, all glances were riveted17, all mouths open; and, in fact, when she danced thus, to the humming of the Basque tambourine18, which her two pure, rounded arms raised above her head, slender, frail19 and vivacious20 as a wasp21, with her corsage of gold without a fold, her variegated22 gown puffing23 out, her bare shoulders, her delicate limbs, which her petticoat revealed at times, her black hair, her eyes of flame, she was a supernatural creature.
"In truth," said Gringoire to himself, "she is a salamander, she is a nymph, she is a goddess, she is a bacchante of the Menelean Mount!"
At that moment, one of the salamander's braids of hair became unfastened, and a piece of yellow copper25 which was attached to it, rolled to the ground.
"Hé, no!" said he, "she is a gypsy!"
All illusions had disappeared.
She began her dance once more; she took from the ground two swords, whose points she rested against her brow, and which she made to turn in one direction, while she turned in the other; it was a purely26 gypsy effect. But, disenchanted though Gringoire was, the whole effect of this picture was not without its charm and its magic; the bonfire illuminated27, with a red flaring28 light, which trembled, all alive, over the circle of faces in the crowd, on the brow of the young girl, and at the background of the Place cast a pallid29 reflection, on one side upon the ancient, black, and wrinkled fa?ade of the House of Pillars, on the other, upon the old stone gibbet.
Among the thousands of visages which that light tinged30 with scarlet31, there was one which seemed, even more than all the others, absorbed in contemplation of the dancer. It was the face of a man, austere32, calm, and sombre. This man, whose costume was concealed33 by the crowd which surrounded him, did not appear to be more than five and thirty years of age; nevertheless, he was bald; he had merely a few tufts of thin, gray hair on his temples; his broad, high forehead had begun to be furrowed35 with wrinkles, but his deep-set eyes sparkled with extraordinary youthfulness, an ardent36 life, a profound passion. He kept them fixed37 incessantly38 on the gypsy, and, while the giddy young girl of sixteen danced and whirled, for the pleasure of all, his revery seemed to become more and more sombre. From time to time, a smile and a sigh met upon his lips, but the smile was more melancholy39 than the sigh.
The young girl, stopped at length, breathless, and the people applauded her lovingly.
"Djali!" said the gypsy.
Then Gringoire saw come up to her, a pretty little white goat, alert, wide-awake, glossy40, with gilded41 horns, gilded hoofs43, and gilded collar, which he had not hitherto perceived, and which had remained lying curled up on one corner of the carpet watching his mistress dance.
"Djali!" said the dancer, "it is your turn."
And, seating herself, she gracefully44 presented her tambourine to the goat.
"Djali," she continued, "what month is this?"
The goat lifted its fore15 foot, and struck one blow upon the tambourine. It was the first month in the year, in fact.
"Djali," pursued the young girl, turning her tambourine round, "what day of the month is this?"
Djali raised his little gilt45 hoof42, and struck six blows on the tambourine.
"Djali," pursued the Egyptian, with still another movement of the tambourine, "what hour of the day is it?"
Djali struck seven blows. At that moment, the clock of the Pillar House rang out seven.
The people were amazed.
"There's sorcery at the bottom of it," said a sinister46 voice in the crowd. It was that of the bald man, who never removed his eyes from the gypsy.
She shuddered47 and turned round; but applause broke forth48 and drowned the morose49 exclamation50.
It even effaced51 it so completely from her mind, that she continued to question her goat.
"Djali, what does Master Guichard Grand-Remy, captain of the pistoliers of the town do, at the procession of Candlemas?"
Djali reared himself on his hind52 legs, and began to bleat53, marching along with so much dainty gravity, that the entire circle of spectators burst into a laugh at this parody54 of the interested devoutness55 of the captain of pistoliers.
"Djali," resumed the young girl, emboldened56 by her growing success, "how preaches Master Jacques Charmolue, procurator to the king in the ecclesiastical court?"
The goat seated himself on his hind quarters, and began to bleat, waving his fore feet in so strange a manner, that, with the exception of the bad French, and worse Latin, Jacques Charmolue was there complete,--gesture, accent, and attitude.
And the crowd applauded louder than ever.
"Sacrilege! profanation57!" resumed the voice of the bald man.
The gypsy turned round once more.
"Ah!" said she, "'tis that villanous man!" Then, thrusting her under lip out beyond the upper, she made a little pout58, which appeared to be familiar to her, executed a pirouette on her heel, and set about collecting in her tambourine the gifts of the multitude.
Big blanks, little blanks, targes* and eagle liards showered into it.
* A blank: an old French coin; six blanks were worth two sous and a half; targe, an ancient coin of Burgundy, a farthing.
All at once, she passed in front of Gringoire. Gringoire put his hand so recklessly into his pocket that she halted. "The devil!" said the poet, finding at the bottom of his pocket the reality, that is, to say, a void. In the meantime, the pretty girl stood there, gazing at him with her big eyes, and holding out her tambourine to him and waiting. Gringoire broke into a violent perspiration59.
If he had all Peru in his pocket, he would certainly have given it to the dancer; but Gringoire had not Peru, and, moreover, America had not yet been discovered.
Happily, an unexpected incident came to his rescue.
"Will you take yourself off, you Egyptian grasshopper60?" cried a sharp voice, which proceeded from the darkest corner of the Place.
The young girl turned round in affright. It was no longer the voice of the bald man; it was the voice of a woman, bigoted61 and malicious62.
However, this cry, which alarmed the gypsy, delighted a troop of children who were prowling about there.
"It is the recluse63 of the Tour-Roland," they exclaimed, with wild laughter, "it is the sacked nun64 who is scolding! Hasn't she supped? Let's carry her the remains65 of the city refreshments66!"
All rushed towards the Pillar House.
In the meanwhile, Gringoire had taken advantage of the dancer's embarrassment67, to disappear. The children's shouts had reminded him that he, also, had not supped, so he ran to the public buffet68. But the little rascals69 had better legs than he; when he arrived, they had stripped the table. There remained not so much as a miserable70 ~camichon~ at five sous the pound. Nothing remained upon the wall but slender fleurs-de-lis, mingled71 with rose bushes, painted in 1434 by Mathieu Biterne. It was a meagre supper.
It is an unpleasant thing to go to bed without supper, it is a still less pleasant thing not to sup and not to know where one is to sleep. That was Gringoire's condition. No supper, no shelter; he saw himself pressed on all sides by necessity, and he found necessity very crabbed72. He had long ago discovered the truth, that Jupiter created men during a fit of misanthropy, and that during a wise man's whole life, his destiny holds his philosophy in a state of siege. As for himself, he had never seen the blockade so complete; he heard his stomach sounding a parley73, and he considered it very much out of place that evil destiny should capture his philosophy by famine.
This melancholy revery was absorbing him more and more, when a song, quaint74 but full of sweetness, suddenly tore him from it. It was the young gypsy who was singing.
Her voice was like her dancing, like her beauty. It was indefinable and charming; something pure and sonorous75, aerial, winged, so to speak. There were continual outbursts, melodies, unexpected cadences76, then simple phrases strewn with aerial and hissing77 notes; then floods of scales which would have put a nightingale to rout78, but in which harmony was always present; then soft modulations of octaves which rose and fell, like the bosom79 of the young singer. Her beautiful face followed, with singular mobility80, all the caprices of her song, from the wildest inspiration to the chastest dignity. One would have pronounced her now a mad creature, now a queen.
The words which she sang were in a tongue unknown to Gringoire, and which seemed to him to be unknown to herself, so little relation did the expression which she imparted to her song bear to the sense of the words. Thus, these four lines, in her mouth, were madly gay,--
~Un cofre de gran riqueza Hallaron dentro un pilar, Dentro del, nuevas banderas Con4 figuras de espantar~.*
* A coffer of great richness In a pillar's heart they found, Within it lay new banners, With figures to astound81.
And an instant afterwards, at the accents which she imparted to this stanza,--
~Alarabes de cavallo Sin poderse menear, Con espadas, y los cuellos, Ballestas de buen echar~,
Gringoire felt the tears start to his eyes. Nevertheless, her song breathed joy, most of all, and she seemed to sing like a bird, from serenity82 and heedlessness.
The gypsy's song had disturbed Gringoire's revery as the swan disturbs the water. He listened in a sort of rapture83, and forgetfulness of everything. It was the first moment in the course of many hours when he did not feel that he suffered.
The moment was brief.
The same woman's voice, which had interrupted the gypsy's dance, interrupted her song.
"Will you hold your tongue, you cricket of hell?" it cried, still from the same obscure corner of the place.
The poor "cricket" stopped short. Gringoire covered up his ears.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, "accursed saw with missing teeth, which comes to break the lyre!"
Meanwhile, the other spectators murmured like himself; "To the devil with the sacked nun!" said some of them. And the old invisible kill-joy might have had occasion to repent84 of her aggressions against the gypsy had their attention not been diverted at this moment by the procession of the Pope of the Fools, which, after having traversed many streets and squares, debouched on the Place de Grève, with all its torches and all its uproar85.
This procession, which our readers have seen set out from the Palais de Justice, had organized on the way, and had been recruited by all the knaves86, idle thieves, and unemployed87 vagabonds in Paris; so that it presented a very respectable aspect when it arrived at the Grève.
First came Egypt. The Duke of Egypt headed it, on horseback, with his counts on foot holding his bridle88 and stirrups for him; behind them, the male and female Egyptians, pell-mell, with their little children crying on their shoulders; all--duke, counts, and populace--in rags and tatters. Then came the Kingdom of Argot89; that is to say, all the thieves of France, arranged according to the order of their dignity; the minor90 people walking first. Thus defiled91 by fours, with the divers92 insignia of their grades, in that strange faculty93, most of them lame24, some cripples, others one-armed, shop clerks, pilgrim, ~hubins~, bootblacks, thimble-riggers, street arabs, beggars, the blear-eyed beggars, thieves, the weakly, vagabonds, merchants, sham94 soldiers, goldsmiths, passed masters of pickpockets95, isolated96 thieves. A catalogue that would weary Homer. In the centre of the conclave97 of the passed masters of pickpockets, one had some difficulty in distinguishing the King of Argot, the grand co?sre, so called, crouching98 in a little cart drawn99 by two big dogs. After the kingdom of the Argotiers, came the Empire of Galilee. Guillaume Rousseau, Emperor of the Empire of Galilee, marched majestically100 in his robe of purple, spotted101 with wine, preceded by buffoons102 wrestling and executing military dances; surrounded by his macebearers, his pickpockets and clerks of the chamber103 of accounts. Last of all came the corporation of law clerks, with its maypoles crowned with flowers, its black robes, its music worthy104 of the orgy, and its large candles of yellow wax. In the centre of this crowd, the grand officers of the Brotherhood105 of Fools bore on their shoulders a litter more loaded down with candles than the reliquary of Sainte-Geneviève in time of pest; and on this litter shone resplendent, with crosier, cope, and mitre, the new Pope of the Fools, the bellringer of Notre-Dame, Quasimodo the hunchback.
Each section of this grotesque106 procession had its own music. The Egyptians made their drums and African tambourines107 resound108. The slang men, not a very musical race, still clung to the goat's horn trumpet109 and the Gothic rubebbe of the twelfth century. The Empire of Galilee was not much more advanced; among its music one could hardly distinguish some miserable rebec, from the infancy110 of the art, still imprisoned111 in the ~re-la-mi~. But it was around the Pope of the Fools that all the musical riches of the epoch112 were displayed in a magnificent discord113. It was nothing but soprano rebecs, counter-tenor114 rebecs, and tenor rebecs, not to reckon the flutes115 and brass116 instruments. Alas117! our readers will remember that this was Gringoire's orchestra.
It is difficult to convey an idea of the degree of proud and blissful expansion to which the sad and hideous118 visage of Quasimodo had attained119 during the transit120 from the Palais de Justice, to the Place de Grève. It was the first enjoyment121 of self-love that he had ever experienced. Down to that day, he had known only humiliation122, disdain123 for his condition, disgust for his person. Hence, deaf though he was, he enjoyed, like a veritable pope, the acclamations of that throng124, which he hated because he felt that he was hated by it. What mattered it that his people consisted of a pack of fools, cripples, thieves, and beggars? it was still a people and he was its sovereign. And he accepted seriously all this ironical applause, all this derisive125 respect, with which the crowd mingled, it must be admitted, a good deal of very real fear. For the hunchback was robust126; for the bandy-legged fellow was agile127; for the deaf man was malicious: three qualities which temper ridicule128.
We are far from believing, however, that the new Pope of the Fools understood both the sentiments which he felt and the sentiments which he inspired. The spirit which was lodged129 in this failure of a body had, necessarily, something incomplete and deaf about it. Thus, what he felt at the moment was to him, absolutely vague, indistinct, and confused. Only joy made itself felt, only pride dominated. Around that sombre and unhappy face, there hung a radiance.
It was, then, not without surprise and alarm, that at the very moment when Quasimodo was passing the Pillar House, in that semi-intoxicated state, a man was seen to dart from the crowd, and to tear from his hands, with a gesture of anger, his crosier of gilded wood, the emblem130 of his mock popeship.
This man, this rash individual, was the man with the bald brow, who, a moment earlier, standing131 with the gypsy's group had chilled the poor girl with his words of menace and of hatred132. He was dressed in an eccleslastical costume. At the moment when he stood forth from the crowd, Gringoire, who had not noticed him up to that time, recognized him: "Hold!" he said, with an exclamation of astonishment133. "Eh! 'tis my master in Hermes, Dom Claude Frollo, the archdeacon! What the devil does he want of that old one- eyed fellow? He'll get himself devoured134!"
A cry of terror arose, in fact. The formidable Quasimodo had hurled135 himself from the litter, and the women turned aside their eyes in order not to see him tear the archdeacon asunder136.
He made one bound as far as the priest, looked at him, and fell upon his knees.
The priest tore off his tiara, broke his crozier, and rent his tinsel cope.
Quasimodo remained on his knees, with head bent137 and hands clasped. Then there was established between them a strange dialogue of signs and gestures, for neither of them spoke138. The priest, erect139 on his feet, irritated, threatening, imperious; Quasimodo, prostrate140, humble141, suppliant142. And, nevertheless, it is certain that Quasimodo could have crushed the priest with his thumb.
At length the archdeacon, giving Quasimodo's powerful shoulder a rough shake, made him a sign to rise and follow him.
Quasimodo rose.
Then the Brotherhood of Fools, their first stupor143 having passed off, wished to defend their pope, so abruptly144 dethroned. The Egyptians, the men of slang, and all the fraternity of law clerks, gathered howling round the priest.
Quasimodo placed himself in front of the priest, set in play the muscles of his athletic145 fists, and glared upon the assailants with the snarl146 of an angry tiger.
The priest resumed his sombre gravity, made a sign to Quasimodo, and retired147 in silence.
Quasimodo walked in front of him, scattering148 the crowd as he passed.
When they had traversed the populace and the Place, the cloud of curious and idle were minded to follow them. Quasimodo then constituted himself the rearguard, and followed the archdeacon, walking backwards149, squat150, surly, monstrous151, bristling152, gathering153 up his limbs, licking his boar's tusks154, growling155 like a wild beast, and imparting to the crowd immense vibrations156, with a look or a gesture.
Both were allowed to plunge157 into a dark and narrow street, where no one dared to venture after them; so thoroughly158 did the mere34 chimera159 of Quasimodo gnashing his teeth bar the entrance.
"Here's a marvellous thing," said Gringoire; "but where the deuce shall I find some supper?"
比埃尔·甘果瓦到达格雷沃广场的时候已经冻僵了。为了避开欧项热桥上的人群和若望·富尔波的油画，他是从风磨桥上走来的。可是主教的所有风磨的轮子，在他经过时无情地溅了他一身水，把他的破衣服浇得透湿。并且，他的戏剧的失败使他好象比以往任何时候都怕冷。于是他急忙朝着广场中央那燃烧得很旺的篝火走去。但篝火四周已经围上了相当多的人。
“该死的巴黎人！”他自言自语道，因为象甘果瓦这样一位戏剧家正是独白的角色。“他们把篝火挡住哪！我还不如去待在一个厨房角落里呢。我的鞋子可喝饱了，那些该死的风磨简直是朝我下了一场暴雨！巴黎主教同他那些风磨见鬼去吧！我倒想知道，一个主教要风磨干什么用？他打算当磨坊主教吗？假若他不要别的，只要我的诅咒，我就诅咒他，诅咒他的教堂和他那些风磨！等一下，瞧他们现在会不会走开，这些笨蛋！请问他们在那边干什么！他们在烤火呢，真是好消遣！他们看着上百根柴火燃烧呢，真是好景致！”
再走近些去看，才看出那里的人实际上还要多得多，不光为了在国王的篝火上取暖，他看出这一大群人并不只是被那百来根柴火吸引来的。
在篝火与人群之间的一块空地上，有一位姑娘在跳舞。作为一个怀疑派哲学家和一位诗人的甘果瓦，被这个灿烂夺目的景象迷住了，不能一眼就看清这姑娘究竟是凡人，是仙女，还是天使。
她个儿并不高，但是她优美的身材亭亭玉立，看起来仿佛很高似的。她的头发略带褐色，但是可以想象在阳光下一定是象罗马妇女和安达路斯妇女一般闪着漂亮的金光。她那双小脚也是安达路斯式，穿着精美的鞋，又小巧又舒适。她在一条随便铺在她脚下的旧波斯地毯上舞蹈着、旋转着，每当她转过身来的时候，每当她光辉的形象经过你面前的时候，她那乌黑的大眼睛就朝着你一闪。
她周围所有的人都目不转睛，大张着嘴。她两只结实的圆胳膊把一面巴斯克小鼓高举在她那小巧玲珑的头顶，她伴随着鼓声这样跳着舞，窈窕、纤细、活泼得象一只黄蜂，她那毫无皱褶的金色小背心，她转动时鼓胀起来的带小斑点的裙衣，她那裸露的双肩，她那偶尔从裙里露出来的一双漂亮的腿，她乌黑的头发，她亮晶晶的眼睛，真的，她真是一位神奇的妙人儿。
“一点不错！”甘果瓦想道，“这是一只壁虎，这是一位森林里的仙女，这是一位女神，这是梅纳伦山上的一位女酒神！”
这时，那只“壁虎”的一条发辫松开了，别在辫子上的一只黄铜别针掉在地上。
“不对，”他说道，“这是个波希米亚姑娘。”
波希米亚是古代中欧的一个国家，现为捷克斯洛伐克的一省。波希米亚族后来成为一个流浪民族，波希米亚人也成为流浪人的同义语。波希米亚族同其他流浪民族形成一个很大的流浪群流浪在欧洲各国。在法国称为波希米亚人，在英国称为吉普赛人，在俄国称为茨冈人。
幻象一下子就整个儿消失了。
她又舞蹈起来。她从地上拾起两把剑，拿剑的尖头抵在额上，然后把剑朝一边旋转，她自己朝另一边旋转。她的确是一个波希米亚姑娘呀，一点不错。甘果瓦有几分不高兴，觉得这整幅图景带着某种妖术和魔法的成分。篝火的红光照着这幅图景，闪烁在周围观众们脸上和这姑娘的淡棕色额头上，向广场尽头射出一道混着人们晃动的影子的微弱反光，这光一头照着柱子房发黑起皱的前墙，一头照着石头的绞刑架。
被火光照得红红的上千张脸孔之中，有一张脸孔似乎比其余的更加注意那跳舞的姑娘。那是一张严肃、平静、阴沉的脸孔。那人顶多不过三十五岁，他的衣服被周围群众遮住看不清楚，他是一个秃头，只有几撮稀疏的花白头发，他那高朗宽阔的额头已经开始打皱，但是他深湛的眼睛里闪烁着一种奇异的青春，狂热的生命，深刻的热情。他目不转睛地盯住波希米亚姑娘，当那十六岁的活泼的少女飞舞着取悦观众的时候，他就觉得他的幻梦愈来愈暗淡无光。间或有一丝微笑和一声叹息同时出现在他的唇边，但是那微笑比那叹息还要痛苦得多。
那少女终于喘息着停止了舞蹈，观众溺爱地向她鼓掌。
“加里！”波希米亚姑娘呼唤道。
这时甘果瓦看见一只美丽的小山羊走了过来，它雪白、敏捷、机灵、光亮，它有两只金色犄角，四只金色的蹄子和一副镀金项圈，它刚才一直蜷伏在地毯的一角看着她主人跳舞，甘果瓦还没瞧见它呢。
“加里，”跳舞的姑娘说，“该轮到你哪！”
她坐下来，温存地把她的巴斯克小鼓举到小山羊面前。“加里，”她问道，“现在是什么月份？”
小山羊举起一只脚在小鼓上敲了一下。那时的确正是一月，观众鼓掌喝采了。
“加里，”姑娘把小鼓翻过一面，又问，“今天是几号了？”加里举起它的小脚在小鼓上敲了六下。
“加里，”波希米亚姑娘改变了一下拿小鼓的姿势，接着问，“现在几点了？”
加里敲了七下，同时柱子房的大钟也正敲响七点。
人们简直惊呆了。
“这里头有妖法呀，”人群里有个阴险的声音喊道。这就是那个眼睛一直盯住波希米亚姑娘的秃头男子。
她战栗了一下，转过身来，但是一阵喝采声盖过了那阴险的喊声。
那些喝采甚至把那人的声音完全从她的心灵上抹去了，她继续考问她的山羊。
“加里，市民区手枪队长居夏尔·大雷米阁下在庆祝圣烛节的行列里是什么样儿？”加里用两条后腿站起来咩咩地叫，一面用十分斯文端庄的姿势走了几步，观众看见手枪队长的维妙维肖的有趣的虔诚样儿，不禁大笑起来。
“加里，”被这愈来愈多的喝采鼓舞了的少女又说道，“王室宗教法庭检察官雅克·沙尔莫吕阁下是怎样祈祷的？”
西俗在二月二日--即圣母玛丽亚产后净秽、携耶稣往圣殿之日，举行圣烛节，为一年间所用的蜡烛祷告。
小山羊坐在后腿上咩咩地叫起来，一面用前腿做出一种十分奇怪的动作，除了缺少劣等法语和劣等拉丁语之外，那动作、语气和姿态，全都活象是沙尔莫吕本人在场。
“这是亵渎神明的！这是侮辱神明的！”又是那个秃头人的声音。
那波希米亚姑娘又一次转过身来。
“啊，”她说，“就是那个可恶的男人呀！”于是她把下嘴唇伸出在上嘴唇外面，好象习惯地略为扁一扁嘴，旋转着脚尖，开始用一面小鼓向观众收钱。
各种大银币、小银角和铜钱象雨点一样落下来。忽然一下子她转到了甘果瓦面前。甘果瓦着急起来，把手伸进衣袋，她便停下来等着。“见鬼！”
甘果瓦搜遍衣袋，知道了自己的真实情况，即发现衣袋里空空如也之后这样说道。这当儿那美丽的少女站在跟前用大眼睛望着他，把小鼓朝着他在等待呢。甘果瓦的汗珠大颗大颗地流下来。
假若有一块秘鲁宝石在他的衣袋里，他一定会把它交给那个跳舞姑娘的。可是甘果瓦没有秘鲁宝石，当时美洲也还没有被发现呢。
幸好有一件意外的事情来解救了他。
“你不滚开吗，你这埃及知了？”从广场最暗的一角里发出一种尖声的叫喊。
那少女惊骇地转过身去。这不再是那个秃头男子的声音了，这是一个女人的声音，一种又虔诚又凶恶的声音。
然而这个使得波希米亚姑娘害怕的声音，却使在近旁蹓跶的一群孩子高兴起来。
“这是罗兰塔里那个隐修女呀！”他们大笑着嚷道，“这是那个小麻袋在骂人呢！大概是她没有吃晚饭吧？咱们到市民区会餐桌上弄点残汤剩饭给她吃去！”
他们全体急忙朝柱子房跑去。
甘果瓦趁那跳舞姑娘正在不安的当儿悄悄地溜了。孩子们的喊声使他记起他自己也没有吃晚饭，于是他朝会餐地点跑去。可是小孩们的腿比他快，当他跑到跟前，他们已经把桌上的东西一扫而光，连五个索尔一磅的面包渣都没有了。那里只有马蒂厄·贝代纳在一四三四年画在墙上的几株纤细的水仙花夹杂在几朵玫瑰里。这可是一顿寒酸的晚饭啊。
不吃晚饭就睡觉是一件不能忍受的事，没有地方睡觉也和没有晚饭吃一样糟糕。甘果瓦正是如此。没有面包，没有住处，发现自己所需要的一切全都没有，他便加倍地觉得需要它们。他早已发现了这个真理：朱比特是在一阵厌恶情绪中创造了人类的。哲人的一生，他的命运老是攻击他的哲学。至于他，他从来没有遭到过这样全面的封锁。他听见自己的胃乱响一通，非常惶惑地发现恶运用饥饿战胜了他的哲学。
这种悲惨的默想愈来愈使他消沉，忽然一阵奇异的充满柔情的歌声解救了他，原来是那个波希米亚姑娘在唱歌。她的歌声和她的舞蹈、她的美貌一样，都是那么迷人和难以捉摸，可以说是又纯洁，又清亮，又飘忽，好象长着翅膀一样。一连串的旋律和意外的音韵，接着是一些音调忽尖忽细的简单乐句，接着是赛过夜莺歌声的几个突然升起但总是和谐的高音，接着是随同那青年歌手的胸脯一起一伏的柔和的低音。她漂亮的面孔异常灵活地应和着歌声的一切变化，从最奔放的灵感到最纯净的尊严，可以说她一会儿是个疯子，一会儿是一位女王。
她的歌词用的是一种甘果瓦不懂的语言，而且好象连她本人也不懂似的，她在歌里所表现的和歌词的内容关系不大。下面的四行诗歌在她的嘴里唱出来具有一种疯狂的欢乐：他们在一根柱子旁边找到一个珍贵的匣套，里面装着新的旗帜，上面印有威风凛凛的形貌。
过了一会，她又唱起下面的一节歌来：他们是阿拉伯骑士，看起来同塑像般威风，他们佩着刀剑，肩头上还有精制的弩弓。
甘果瓦觉得自己的眼睛里迸出了热泪。这时她的歌声特别欢乐，她好象鸟儿一样，唱歌是出于心地安宁和无忧无虑。
波希米亚姑娘的歌声扰乱了甘果瓦的沉思，不过那只是象天鹅搅乱了水波一样，他迷迷糊糊地倾听着，忘记了一切。几个钟头以来，这是他的苦恼第一次得到了缓解的时刻。
但这个时刻太短暂了。
曾经打断波希米亚姑娘舞蹈的那个女人的声音，这时又来打断她的歌唱了。
“你还不住嘴吗，地狱里的知了？”她仍然从广场最暗的角落里喊道。
那可怜的知了突然停住不唱了，甘果瓦用手捂着自己的耳朵。
“哦，”他嚷道，“该死的锯子，它把琴弦锯断啦！”
这时其余的观众也同他一样抱怨起来，不只一个人说道：“魔鬼把这个小麻袋抓去吧！”要不是当时观众的注意转向了愚人王的队伍，那个看不见的老厌物也许会由于攻击了波希米亚姑娘而受到惩罚呢。
这支队伍在走遍一切街巷之后，带着它所有的火把与喧闹到格雷沃广场上来了。
我们的读者曾经看见离开司法宫的那个队伍，一路上吸收了巴黎的所有的强盗、小偷和乞丐，到达格雷沃广场时，队伍显得挺象样了。
走在队伍最前面的是流浪人。那个埃及公爵一马当先，伯爵们在他旁边替他拉着马缰，扶着马鞍。在他们后面走着杂乱的流浪人，男的和女的，女人肩头上坐着哭哭啼啼的小孩。所有的人，无论公爵、伯爵或小老百姓，都穿着破衣烂衫。接下去是“黑话王国”，也就是法国所有的小偷，按等级排列，最卑微的在最前头。他们四个人一排，带着他们那种特殊技能的各种等级的不同标记向前移动，大部分是残废人，有些是跛脚，有些人缺胳膊，还有假失业者、假香客、被疯狗咬过的人、长头癣的人、头部受伤的人、酒鬼、拄拐杖的人、扒手、水肿病人、遭火灾的人、破产的商人、残废军人、小要饭的、伪装的高级执事和麻风病人——连荷马也会疲于记述的一大群数不清的人。在一大群假麻风病人和伪高级执事之间，很难分辨出那个小偷们的头目，那个大加约斯，他蜷缩在一辆由两条大狗拉着的小车里。在这“黑话王国”后面，是“加利利帝国”。“加利利帝国”的皇帝居约姆·卢梭穿着被酒弄脏了的紫红袍子高傲地走着，他前面有几个杂技演员，一边走一边打架并且耍枪弄棒，周围是他的权杖手，他的侍从和他的财政人员。接下去是大理院书记团的人们，他们身穿黑衣，手捧花枝招展的五月树，带着他们那支可以出席安息日会的乐队和他们那些有黄色光晕的高大的蜡烛。在这群人的正中央，是愚人之友会的会员们抬着一乘轿子，它比瘟疫流行时期的圣热纳维埃夫教堂的神座更豪华地点满了蜡烛。新的愚人王，圣母院的敲钟人驼子伽西莫多，手持圭杖，身穿道袍，头戴王冠，容光焕发地坐在这乘轿子上。
这个奇形怪状的行列每一段都有它特别的音乐。波希米亚人弹奏他们的巴勒福，敲着他们的非洲小鼓。黑话王国的人是音乐极少的种族，他们依旧用的是七弦琴、羊角和十二世纪的三弦琴。加利利帝国也不比他们进步多少，在它的乐器里只找得到那种代表早期艺术的只会奏出“来”“拉”“咪”的三弦琴。但是在愚人王的周围，却用宏亮的声音奏着那个时代最壮丽的音乐，那是最高音、次高音和中音的三弦琴合奏，还没有算笛子和铜器呢。哎呀，我们的读者应该记得，它就是甘果瓦的乐队啊。
在从司法宫来到格雷沃的胜利的行列里，伽西莫多愁苦而可厌的脸上表现出来的那种骄傲的心花怒放的神态真是很难描画。那是他头一次感觉到一种从未体验过的自尊自爱的欢乐。他一向只认识蔑视他的地位和厌恶他本人的那种耻辱。他虽然那样耳聋，却象一位真正的愚人王似的，欣赏着由于使他感到被人憎恨因而也被他憎恨的人们的音乐。他的民众不过是一群愚人、残废人、小偷和乞丐，那又有什么关系！他们总是民众，而他却是统治者。
他十分重视那些讽刺的喝采，嘲弄的恭敬，我们不能不说，那一切在群众方面还引起了十分真实的敬畏呢。由于这个驼背相当健壮，由于这个罗圈腿相当灵活，由于这个敲钟人相当凶恶，这三桩就把玩笑制止住了。
并且，这位新的愚人王怎样去衡量他所体验过的感情和他当时所引起的感情，这却远非我们所能判断的了。封锁在这残废的躯壳里面的灵魂，它本身对于残废和聋哑必然是最容易有感触的，但他当时所感觉到的却还是绝对的模糊不清，一片混沌。他完全被欢乐浸透着，完全被骄傲支配着，那忧郁的不幸的面孔竟泛出了灿烂的光辉。
当伽西莫多在那种如痴如醉的状态中胜利地经过柱子房跟前，人群里忽然跳出了一个男子，用发怒的姿势从他手中夺下了那根表示他的愚人王身分的镀金圭杖。那情景真是可惊可怕。
这个男人，这个冒失鬼，就是那个秃头。不大会儿之前他还混在波希米亚姑娘的观众里，用可怕可恨的话吓唬过那可怜的姑娘。他穿着教士的服装。
当他从人群中跳出来的时候，一直没有注意他的甘果瓦立刻就认出了他。“真的，”甘果瓦惊呼道，“这是我那艾尔美斯式的老师堂·克洛德·孚罗洛副主教呀！他同那个独眼捣的什么鬼？他会被吞吃掉呢。”
的确听到了一声惊恐的叫喊，可怕的伽西莫多从轿子上跳下来了。妇女都转过脸去，免得看见他把副主教撕成碎片。
但他却一下子跳到那个神甫面前，望了他一眼就向他跪下了。
神甫掀掉了他的王冠，折断了他的圭杖，撕破了他那件闪光的道袍。
伽西莫多依旧跪着，低着头，交叉着双手。
于是他们互相打起奇怪的暗号和手势来了，他俩谁也没有说话。神甫激动地直立着，粗暴地恫吓着，伽西莫多卑恭地、顺从地匍匐着。那当儿，伽西莫多其实是很可以用他的拇指把那神甫捏碎的。
最后，那副主教粗暴地摇着伽西莫多的胳膊，做了个手势叫他站起来跟他走。
伽西莫多站起身来。
愚人之友会的会员们发了一阵呆之后，才想起要保卫他们那位给人拉下了宝座的愚人王。波希米亚人、小偷们和大理院书记团的人们，都围着那神甫嚷嚷开了。
伽西莫多站到神甫跟前去，紧握起双拳，象发怒的老虎一般磨响着牙齿，看着攻击神甫的人们。
神甫又装出他那副阴森严厉的神气，向伽西莫多做了个手势，悄悄地退去了。
伽西莫多走在他的前头，在人群里替他开路。
他们穿过了人群和广场，一群爱看热闹的人和游手好闲的人想跟上去。
于是伽西莫多又当了后卫，跟在副主教身后，背朝前倒退着走。他矮壮、暴躁，不好惹，长得象个怪物，蜷缩着手脚，舐着长牙，象疯狂的野兽一样咆哮着。他的一个手势或一个眼色，就能使群众大大地骚动一阵。
人们听任他们走进一条狭小的街巷，那儿可再没有谁敢跟着走了，只要想到咬牙切齿的伽西莫多，就足以使人不敢再跟上去。
“这就奇怪了！”甘果瓦说，“可是我到哪儿吃晚饭去呢？”
收听单词发音 |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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obstructing
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| 阻塞( obstruct的现在分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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miller
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malediction
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| n.诅咒 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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negligently
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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tambourine
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| n.铃鼓，手鼓 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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purely
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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34
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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35
furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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37
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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38
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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39
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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40
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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41
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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42
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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43
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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45
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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46
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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47
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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48
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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49
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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50
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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51
effaced
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| v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；超越；使黯然失色 | |
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52
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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53
bleat
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| v.咩咩叫，(讲)废话，哭诉；n.咩咩叫，废话，哭诉 | |
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54
parody
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| n.打油诗文，诙谐的改编诗文，拙劣的模仿；v.拙劣模仿，作模仿诗文 | |
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55
devoutness
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| 朝拜 | |
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56
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
profanation
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| n.亵渎 | |
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58
pout
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| v.撅嘴；绷脸；n.撅嘴；生气，不高兴 | |
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59
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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60
grasshopper
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| n.蚱蜢，蝗虫，蚂蚱 | |
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61
bigoted
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| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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62
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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63
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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64
nun
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| n.修女，尼姑 | |
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65
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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66
refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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67
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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68
buffet
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| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
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69
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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70
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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71
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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72
crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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74
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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75
sonorous
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|
| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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76
cadences
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| n.（声音的）抑扬顿挫( cadence的名词复数 )；节奏；韵律；调子 | |
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77
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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78
rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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79
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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80
mobility
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| n.可动性，变动性，情感不定 | |
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81
astound
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| v.使震惊，使大吃一惊 | |
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82
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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83
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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84
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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85
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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86
knaves
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| n.恶棍，无赖( knave的名词复数 )；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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87
unemployed
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|
| adj.失业的，没有工作的；未动用的，闲置的 | |
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88
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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89
argot
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| n.隐语，黑话 | |
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90
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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91
defiled
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| v.玷污( defile的过去式和过去分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
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92
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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93
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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94
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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95
pickpockets
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| n.扒手( pickpocket的名词复数 ) | |
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96
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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97
conclave
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| n.秘密会议，红衣主教团 | |
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98
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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99
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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100
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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101
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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102
buffoons
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| n.愚蠢的人( buffoon的名词复数 )；傻瓜；逗乐小丑；滑稽的人 | |
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103
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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104
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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105
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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106
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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107
tambourines
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| n.铃鼓，手鼓( tambourine的名词复数 )；（鸣声似铃鼓的）白胸森鸠 | |
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108
resound
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| v.回响 | |
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109
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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110
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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111
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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113
discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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114
tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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115
flutes
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| 长笛( flute的名词复数 )； 细长香槟杯（形似长笛） | |
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116
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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117
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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118
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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119
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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120
transit
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| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
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121
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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122
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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123
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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124
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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125
derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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126
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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127
agile
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| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
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128
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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129
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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130
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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131
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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132
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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133
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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134
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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135
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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136
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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137
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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138
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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139
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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140
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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141
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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142
suppliant
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| adj.哀恳的；n.恳求者，哀求者 | |
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143
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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144
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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145
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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146
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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147
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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148
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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149
backwards
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|
| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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150
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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151
monstrous
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|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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152
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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153
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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154
tusks
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| n.（象等动物的）长牙( tusk的名词复数 )；獠牙；尖形物；尖头 | |
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155
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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156
vibrations
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|
| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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157
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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158
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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chimera
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| n.神话怪物；梦幻 | |
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