In the twinkling of an eye, all was ready to execute Coppenole’s idea. Bourgeois, scholars and law clerks all set to work. The little chapel situated opposite the marble table was selected for the scene of the grinning match. A pane broken in the pretty rose window above the door, left free a circle of stone through which it was agreed that the competitors should thrust their heads. In order to reach it, it was only necessary to mount upon a couple of hogsheads, which had been produced from I know not where, and perched one upon the other, after a fashion.
It was settled that each candidate, man or woman (for it was possible to choose a female pope), should, for the sake of leaving the impression of his grimace fresh and complete, cover his face and remain concealed in the chapel until the moment of his appearance. In less than an instant, the chapel was crowded with competitors, upon whom the door was then closed.
Coppenole, from his post, ordered all, directed all, arranged all. During the uproar, the cardinal, no less abashed than Gringoire, had retired with all his suite, under the pretext of business and vespers, without the crowd which his arrival had so deeply stirred being in the least moved by his departure. Guillaume Rym was the only one who noticed his eminence’s discomfiture.
The attention of the populace, like the sun, pursued its revolution; having set out from one end of the hall, and halted for a space in the middle, it had now reached the other end. The marble table, the brocaded gallery had each had their day; it was now the turn of the chapel of Louis XI. Henceforth, the field was open to all folly. There was no one there now, but the Flemings and the rabble.
The grimaces began. The first face which appeared at the aperture, with eyelids turned up to the reds, a mouth open like a maw, and a brow wrinkled like our hussar boots of the Empire, evoked such an inextinguishablepeal of laughter that Homer would have taken all these louts for gods. Nevertheless, the grand hall was anything but Olympus, and Gringoire’s poor Jupiter knew it better than any one else. A second and third grimace followed, then another and another; and the laughter and transports of delight went on increasing.
There was in this spectacle, a peculiar power of intoxication and fascination, of which it would be difficult to convey to the reader of our day and our salons any idea.Let the reader picture to himself a series of visages presenting successively all geometrical forms, from the triangle to the trapezium, from the cone to the polyhedron; all human expressions, from wrath to lewdness; all ages, from the wrinkles of the new-born babe to the wrinkles of the aged and dying; all religious phantasmagories, from Faun to Beelzebub; all animal profiles, from the maw to the beak, from the jowl to the muzzle.
Let the reader imagine all these grotesque figures of the Pont Neuf, those nightmares petrified beneath the hand of Germain Pilon, assuming life and breath, and coming in turn to stare you in the face with burning eyes; all the masks of the Carnival of Venice passing in succession before your glass,--in a word, a human kaleidoscope.
The orgy grew more and more Flemish. Teniers could have given but a very imperfect idea of it. Let the reader picture to himself in bacchanal form, Salvator Rosa’s battle. There were no longer either scholars or ambassadors or bourgeois or men or women; there was no longer any Clopin Trouillefou, nor Gilles Lecornu, nor Marie Quatrelivres, nor Robin Poussepain.
All was universal license. The grand hall was no longer anything but a vast furnace of effrontry and joviality, where every mouth was a cry, every individual a posture; everything shouted and howled. The strange visages which came, in turn, to gnash their teeth in the rose window, were like so many brands cast into the brazier; and from the whole of this effervescing crowd, there escaped, as from a furnace, a sharp, piercing, stinging noise, hissing like the wings of a gnat.
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“嗬哎!真倒霉!”
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"Ho hé! curse it!"
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“瞧这副嘴脸!”
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"Just look at that face!"
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“这算不了什么!”
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"It’s not good for anything."
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“居约姆·莫吉比,瞧那个牛鼻子,他就差两只犄角了。那可不是你的丈夫呀。”
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"Guillemette Maugerepuis, just look at that bull’s muzzle; it only lacks the horns. It can’t be your husband."
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“又是一个!”
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"Another!"
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“教皇的肚皮呀!扮这个怪笑的人是谁呢?”
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"Belly of the pope! what sort of a grimace is that?"
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“啊唉!那是骗人的,他应该把本来面目给人看看。”
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"Hola hé! that’s cheating. One must show only one’s face."
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“这个该死的贝海特·加尔波特!她真会这一套!”
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"That damned Perrette Callebotte! she’s capable of that!"
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“好极啦!好极啦!”
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"Good! Good!"
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“我都喘不上气了!”
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"I’m stifling!"
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“又一个家伙耳朵伸不出来!”诸如此类,层出不穷。
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"There’s a fellow whose ears won’t go through!" Etc., etc.
But we must do justice to our friend Jehan. In the midst of this witches’ sabbath, he was still to be seen on the top of his pillar, like the cabin-boy on the topmast. He floundered about with incredible fury. His mouth was wide open, and from it there escaped a cry which no one heard, not that it was covered by the general clamor, great as that was but because it attained, no doubt, the limit of perceptible sharp sounds, the thousand vibrations of Sauveur, or the eight thousand of Biot.
As for Gringoire, the first moment of depression having passed, he had regained his composure. He had hardened himself against adversity.---"Continue!" he had said for the third time, to his comedians, speaking machines; then as he was marching with great strides in front of the marble table, a fancy seized him to go and appear in his turn at the aperture of the chapel, were it only for the pleasure of making a grimace at that ungrateful populace.--"But no, that would not be worthy of us; no, vengeance! let us combat until the end," he repeated to himself; "the power of poetry over people is great; I will bring them back. We shall see which will carry the day, grimaces or polite literature."
Alas! he had been left the sole spectator of his piece. It was far worse than it had been a little while before. He no longer beheld anything but backs.I am mistaken. The big, patient man, whom he had already consulted in a critical moment, had remained with his face turned towards the stage. As for Gisquette and Liénarde, they had deserted him long ago.
Gringoire was touched to the heart by the fidelity of his only spectator. He approached him and addressed him, shaking his arm slightly; for the good man was leaning on the balustrade and dozing a little.
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“先生,”甘果瓦说,“我感谢您。”
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"Monsieur," said Gringoire, "I thank you!"
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“先生,”胖子打着呵欠回答道,“为了什么呀?”
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"Monsieur," replied the big man with a yawn, "for what?"
"I see what wearies you," resumed the poet; "’tis all this noise which prevents your hearing comfortably. But be at ease! your name shall descend to posterity! Your name, if you please?"
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“雷诺特·加多,巴黎沙特雷法庭印章保管人,我听候您的吩咐。”
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"Renauld Chateau, guardian of the seals of the Chatelet of Paris, at your service."
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“先生,您在这儿是诗神的唯一代表。”甘果瓦说。
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"Monsieur, you are the only representive of the muses here," said Gringoire.
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“先生,您太客气哪!”沙特雷的印章保管人答道。
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"You are too kind, sir," said the guardian of the seals at the Chatelet.
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“您是唯一的一个留心听戏的人,”甘果瓦又说,“您对它有什么高见?”
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"You are the only one," resumed Gringoire, "who has listened to the piece decorously. What do you think of it?"
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“哎!哎!”那胖官儿睡眼矇眬地回答,“的确很俏皮呢!”
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"He! he!" replied the fat magistrate, half aroused, "it’s tolerablyjolly, that’s a fact."
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甘果瓦只好同意这个赞许,因为突然一阵欢呼和奇怪的叫喊声打断了他们的谈话,愚人王选出来了。
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Gringoire was forced to content himself with this eulogy; for a thunder of applause, mingled with a prodigiousacclamation, cut their conversation short. The Pope of the Fools had been elected.
"Noel! Noel! Noel!" shouted the people on all sides. That was, in fact, a marvellous grimace which was beaming at that moment through the aperture in the rose window.
After all the pentagonal, hexagonal, and whimsical faces, which had succeeded each other at that hole without realizing the ideal of the grotesque which their imaginations, excited by the orgy, had constructed, nothing less was needed to win their suffrages than the sublime grimace which had just dazzled the assembly. Master Coppenole himself applauded, and Clopin Trouillefou, who had been among the competitors (and God knows what intensity of ugliness his visage could attain), confessed himself conquered: We will do the same.
We shall not try to give the reader an idea of that tetrahedral nose, that horseshoe mouth; that little left eye obstructed with a red, bushy, bristling eyebrow, while the right eye disappeared entirely beneath an enormous wart; of those teeth in disarray, broken here and there, like the embattled parapet of a fortress; of that callous lip, upon which one of these teeth encroached, like the tusk of an elephant; of that forked chin; and above all, of the expression spread over the whole; of that mixture of malice, amazement, and sadness. Let the reader dream of this whole, if he can.
The acclamation was unanimous; people rushed towards the chapel. They made the lucky Pope of the Fools come forth in triumph. But it was then that surprise and admiration attained their highest pitch; the grimace was his face.
Or rather, his whole person was a grimace. A huge head, bristling with red hair; between his shoulders an enormous hump, a counterpart perceptible in front; a system of thighs and legs so strangely astray that they could touch each other only at the knees, and, viewed from the front, resembled the crescents of two scythes joined by the handles; large feet, monstrous hands; and, with all this deformity, an indescribable and redoubtable air of vigor, agility, and courage,--strange exception to the eternal rule which wills that force as well as beauty shall be the result of harmony. Such was the pope whom the fools had just chosen for themselves.
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他简直象一座被打碎但并没有好好粘合起来的巨人塑像一样。
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One would have pronounced him a giant who had been broken and badly put together again.
When this species of cyclops appeared on the threshold of the chapel, motionless, squat, and almost as broad as he was tall; squared on the base, as a great man says; with his doublet half red, half violet, sown with silver bells, and, above all, in the perfection of his ugliness, the populace recognized him on the instant, and shouted with one voice,--"’Tis Quasimodo, the bellringer! ’tis Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre-Dame! Quasimodo, the one-eyed! Quasimodo, the bandy-legged! Noel! Noel!"
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这可怜鬼有好几个绰号任人挑选呢。
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It will be seen that the poor fellow had a choice of surnames.
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“孕妇要当心点!”学生们嚷道。
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"Let the women with child beware!" shouted the scholars.
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“想怀孕的女人要当心!”若望接口说。
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"Or those who wish to be," resumed Joannes.
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那群妇女真的用手把脸孔捂起来了。
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The women did, in fact, hide their faces.
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“啊!这只讨厌的猴子!”一个说道。
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"Oh! the horrible monkey!" said one of them.
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“又丑又凶呢。”另一个说。
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"As wicked as he is ugly," retorted another.
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“他是个魔鬼呀!”第三个也加以补充。
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"He’s the devil," added a third.
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“我住在圣母院近旁真倒霉呀!整夜都听见他在承水槽上走来走去。”
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"I have the misfortune to live near Notre-Dame; I hear him prowling round the eaves by night."
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“和猫在一起呢!”
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"With the cats."
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“他经常在我们的房顶上。”
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"He’s always on our roofs."
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“他从烟囱里咒骂我们。”
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"He throws spells down our chimneys."
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“有一个晚上,他跑到我家天窗口朝我扮了个鬼脸。我以为那是个男人。可把我吓坏了!”
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"The other evening, he came and made a grimace at me through my attic window. I thought that it was a man. Such a fright as I had!"
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“我敢断定他是去参加妖怪们的安息日会的。有一回他丢了一把扫帚在我家铅皮屋顶上。”
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"I’m sure that he goes to the witches’ sabbath. Once he left a broom on my leads."
The men, on the contrary, were delighted and applauded. Quasimodo, the object of the tumult, still stood on the threshold of the chapel, sombre and grave, and allowed them to admire him.
One scholar (Robin Poussepain, I think), came and laughed in his face, and too close. Quasimodo contented himself with taking him by the girdle, and hurling him ten paces off amid the crowd; all without uttering a word.
Master Coppenole, in amazement, approached him."Cross of God! Holy Father! you possess the handsomest ugliness that I have ever beheld in my life. You would deserve to be pope at Rome, as well as at Paris."
So saying, he placed his hand gayly on his shoulder. Quasimodo did not stir. Coppenole went on,--"You are a rogue with whom I have a fancy for carousing, were it to cost me a new dozen of twelve livres of Tours. How does it strike you?"
Nevertheless, he began to grow impatient with Coppenole’s behavior, and suddenly turned towards him with so formidable a gnashing of teeth, that the Flemish giant recoiled, like a bull-dog before a cat.
Then there was created around that strange personage, a circle of terror and respect, whose radius was at least fifteen geometrical feet. An old woman explained to Coppenole that Quasimodo was deaf.
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“哑巴!”那个袜店老板照他的弗朗德勒方式大笑着说:“凭十字架作证!那才是十全十美的愚人王呀!”
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"Deaf!" said the hosier, with his great Flemish laugh. "Cross of God! He’s a perfect pope!"
"He! I recognize him," exclaimed Jehan, who had, at last, descended from his capital, in order to see Quasimodo at closer quarters, "he’s the bellringer of my brother, the archdeacon. Good-day, Quasimodo!"
"What a devil of a man!" said Robin Poussepain still all bruised with his fall. "He shows himself; he’s a hunchback. He walks; he’s bandy-legged. He looks at you; he’s one-eyed. You speak to him; he’s deaf. And what does this Polyphemus do with his tongue?"
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“他要乐意说话的时候才说,”一个老妇人说,“他是因为敲钟敲哑了,不是生来就哑的。”
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"He speaks when he chooses," said the old woman; "he became deaf through ringing the bells. He is not dumb."
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“那他还不如生来就哑呢。”若望评论道。
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"That he lacks," remarks Jehan.
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“幸好他还有一只眼睛。”罗班·普斯潘接着说。
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"And he has one eye too many," added Robin Poussepain.
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“不,”若望认真地说道,“一个独眼人和完全的瞎子比起来缺点更严重,因为他知道他缺什么。”
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"Not at all," said Jehan wisely. "A one-eyed man is far less complete than a blind man. He knows what he lacks."
In the meantime, all the beggars, all the lackeys, all the cutpurses, joined with the scholars, had gone in procession to seek, in the cupboard of the law clerks’ company, the cardboard tiara, and the derisive robe of the Pope of the Fools. Quasimodo allowed them to array him in them without wincing, and with a sort of proud docility. Then they made him seat himself on a motley litter. Twelve officers of the fraternity of fools raised him on their shoulders; and a sort of bitter and disdainful joy lighted up the morose face of the cyclops, when he beheld beneath his deformed feet all those heads of handsome, straight, well-made men. Then the ragged and howling procession set out on its march, according to custom, around the inner galleries of the Courts, before making the circuit of the streets and squares.