The Dramas of Victor Hugo: Mary Tudor, Marion de Lorme, Esmeralda - novelonlinefull.com
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[_The door opens. Claude Frollo enters, a lamp in his hand, his hood pulled over his face: he comes and stands, motionless, in front of Esmeralda._
ESMERALDA (_jumping up with terror_).
Who is this man?
CLAUDE FROLLO (_covered by his hood_).
A priest!
ESMERALDA.
A priest! How mysterious!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Are you ready?
ESMERALDA.
Ready for what?
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Ready to die.
ESMERALDA.
Yes.
CLAUDE FROLLO.
It is well.
ESMERALDA.
Will it be soon? Answer me, father!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Do you suffer so much?
ESMERALDA.
Yes, I suffer.
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Perhaps I, who shall live to-morrow, Suffer more than you.
ESMERALDA.
You? Who, then, are you?
CLAUDE FROLLO.
The tomb lies between us!
ESMERALDA.
Your name?
CLAUDE FROLLO.
You wish to know it?
ESMERALDA.
Yes. [_He lifts his hood._ The priest!
It is the priest! O G.o.d! my feeble strength inspire!
It is indeed his brow of ice, it is his glance of fire!
'Tis he who has pursued me, remorseless, day and night; 'Twas he who killed my Phoebus, and slew my heart's delight.
Monster, from my prison, with death's cold hand on me, I'll curse thee, till within the grave my lips shall silent be!
What have I done to thee? What is thine awful plan?
What dost thou want with me, relentless, impious man?
You hate me!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
I love you!
I love you--it is infamous!
Oh, shame to my priesthood!
This love, it is my soul; This love, it is my blood!
At your feet I fall; Hear my heart, which cries, I prefer your tomb Unto Paradise.
Pity me. I love you! Your pity I implore!
For you I've sinned. Have mercy, do not curse me more!
ESMERALDA.
He loves me! Oh, crown of horrors!
He holds me--this horrible sorcerer!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
The only living thing in me Is my love and my anguish!
Hopeless anguish, Wretched plight!
Alas! I love her, Painful night!
ESMERALDA.
