Original subtitles

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Paris, France,1480. A dark, frightening time

when people believed the world was flat

and that God's truth was hand-written on parchment paper in Cathedral libraries.

It was a world where modern ideas were banned by the Church,

and the mere possession of a printed page was a crime punishable by death.

Dom Frollo!

Satan's instrument

Come, come, come!

Get this� thing out of sight!

The Hunchback

25 Years Later on the day of the FESTIVAL OF FOOLS.

Thief! Stop him!

Sanctuary! Sanctuary!

Get inside!

Thank you, Father

Stop!

Aside! I'm going to arrest him, he's a thief.

The House of God is sanctuary for all. The power of your Law stops at this doorway.

He's got to come out sometime!

The Court of Spain sent a man across the ocean to discover a New World.

Our King would have us believe that there is no world outside the walls of this city!

They tax our meat, our salt! Is there a shortage of food on the tables of the Palais Royale?

She's about to begin! What's going on?

Politics wrapped up in the skin of drama.

Let me answer the questions they will not let you ask! Why are there no books in Paris save those in our churches?

He's good!

A populist?

Worse. An idealist.

He's mine!

I will tell you. It is because Church and State are of one mind - that you should have no minds of your own! Citizens of Paris! Knowledge is power! We must not stand idly by! We must rise up! Rise up and -

Siddown!

They'll raise you up high enough, on the gallows!

What, by keeping the people ignorant?

Oho! Here we have an expert on Ignorance, eh?

Shut up you fool, I'm giving these people the truth!

The citizens of Paris don't need the truth!

We need dancing! We need music!

La Esmeralda!

We need - La Esmeralda!

: Wait! Wait! The nobles would have us

I've never seen such beauty.

For a gypsy.

What's her name?

Esmeralda.

Esmeralda...

Heyheyhey! Citizens! Fellow Gypsies! The time has come,

the moment is here, for us to choose our King!

King of the Fools!

It's the ugliest face that wins the crown, all right?

So men, women, come on up! Come on up!

If your face is gruesome, grotesque or just plain grisly, bring it up!

If your face is revolting, repulsive, let's have a look at it!

If your face is like the arse-end of a donkey,

let's have a laugh! Men, women, the ugliest face! Will it be - this one?

What do you think? How do you like her face?

How can they even look?

I think the ugly is very appealing.

To some people, maybe - not to me!

It's a matter of taste!

Good God...

YOU! Man! Come here!

Don't you want to be famous, eh? Course you do!

Bring him up! Bring him up!

That's it, come on, you can do it�

One foot at a time, all right? Come on...

That's it! Citizens, the contest is over!

Here is your King, you fools!

It's the bellringer!

- It's Quasimodo! - It's the hunchback!

The Hunchback of Notre Dame!

Yes, make him the King!

Well, Quasimodo, you were always up in your belltower

we knew he was ugly, but didn't know he was this ugly!

Old friend, you win the contest, do you understand?

We want to you be the King of the Fools!

So what do you say?

What's the matter, can't you speak?

He's deaf! The bells have made him deaf!

Then he should be King of France!

The crown! The crown! The crown!

Yes! Yes! Hey, where are you going?

Esmeralda

Come on, Esmeralda.

There isn't a man in Paris who wouldn't accept a death sentence

if it were given by your hand. Go on.

Quasimodo! We proclaim you King of the Fools! Hail Quasimodo!

Your Majesty.

Ah, Minister Gauchere. Come on, you've missed the King of the Fools.

Thank you! Thank you all!

Did you know that Monsignor Frollo has the Royal Guard searching everywhere for books?

What possible danger lies in books?

Enjoy the Festival.

Dom Frollo is old, and set in his ways -

he hasn't ventured beyond the steps of the Cathedral for a decade.

STOP!!!!!!!

He can't take our King away!

He did!

Quasimodo!

They have humiliated you.

Have you no pride?

Quasimodo, do you not understand?

You have been touched by God!

He has chosen you to go directly to Heaven!

He brought you to our steps those many years ago

to protect you against the cruelties of man

and the temptations of women.

Venture again into the world outside and you do so without God's protection

and mine.

Esmeralda

It's not enough.

Come on Djali, we've got to get home.

Come on!

Help! HELP!!!

Hey you there! Help! Guards of the watch!

Leave her, you can't touch her!

Stop the wretches!

You've got nothing to fear, you've done nothing wrong!

Hold that freak!

Officer, he was trying to help!

Arrest him!

I did nothing!

Out of the way!

I did nothing! I did nothing!

The bells are silent. Where is Quasimodo?

I don't know, Monsignor.

Find him!

Where am I? Hell?

You are where no law-abiding man has ever walked!

Where the King's Guard ventured into it - vanished! Into small pieces!

You are in the Court of Miracles! Where gypsies,

unfrocked priests and wastrels from every nation are beggars by day and men by night!

A vast dressing room, where the entire cast of a never-ending comedy performed on the streets of Paris by theft,

prostitution and murder don and remove their costumes!

And you are the director of this unholy theatre company, I suppose?

I am King!

King of Thieves!

Oh no, no, no. Here I am King!

Monarch! Pope! God! And you - don't belong.

No, I am the man who tried to enlighten the noble citizens of Paris to your plight this morning, in the great square.

Oh yes� You want to help us? Mmm? Speak up in our defence?

What do you know of us, eh? You're worse than the nobles, you are an intellectual!

They treat us like cattle, you make us into causes! Neither puts bread on the table.

You have entered the Kingdom of the Downtrodden without having been trod upon.

The law that Paris applies to us thieves, we thieves will apply to you.

You will be hanged.

What?

Up he goes!

No! Wait! Please

Comfortable, eh?

Just wink! Right!

On my word, Simone will take leave of her perch - and you will take leave of this Earth!

Wait!

Not now!

What about the Law of Bohemia?

She's right!

The Law of Bohemia!

WHAT LAW OF BOHEMIA?!?!?!?!?

All right!

The Law of Bohemia says that a King can't hang a man

without asking if there's a Gypsy woman who wants him.

You will marry a thief - or the rope.

And no japes about being "well hung"!

Women! Is there a trollop amongst you from the switch down to the shincap

- who'll have this silver-tongued rodent? - Please, someone!

A man, for nothing! Well worth the money, all of him!

- Please, I'll be a good husband, please! - Hang him!

- Going once! Going twice! - I'll take him!

- La Esmeralda?!? - You'll ruin our sport, Esmeralda.

I said, I will marry this man.

Let him down!

Here is your saviour.

Brother, she is your wife

sister, he is your husband.

Amen.

I am Esmeralda.

Gringoire. Pierre Gringoire.

- I love you, Esmeralda. - You love my cooking.

- I'm serious! - Djali loves me. She's been with me since she was born,

- I think she knows what I'm thinking. - I wish I knew what you were thinking.

I think you are liking this gypsy life.

Can't complain! No, I'm ready to live with you as husband and wife.

As brother and sister, if you prefer.

I'm enough of a philosopher to keep everything in the proper equilibrium.

- Equil-what? - The proper balance.

- Oh, you are a juggler! - No, I'm sorry, I don't juggle.

Then you must learn! I'll teach you.

- I don't want to! - Look!

If you're going to be my husband, you're going to need a trade.

I have a trade! I'm an orator.

You'll be a juggler. Watch! It's very easy!

- But I could never do that! - Yes you can! Come here, try it!

Two balls on this hand, one ball on this hand..

All you have to do is throw and catch�

throw and catch�

And keep your elbows close to your body.

Here.

Argh! It's no use, I'm not a juggler, I don't even want to be a juggler!

- Why did you do that? - Because I wanted to.

Keep practising.

- Who is that? - The bellringer of Notre Dame.

Dom Frollo is his guardian.

Let it be known that Quasimodo,

the bellringer of Notre Dame,

is to receive fifty strokes with the cat-o'-nine-tails for his attack upon a woman.

We must stop them, he was helping me!

- Yes, but they'll never listen. - The poet's right, we can't get involved.

- Eminence, can you not stop this? - Yes.

I can.

Quasimodo betrayed me.

I can't stand this!

Your Highness, Your Highness, My Lord!!

What's that?

- Come here, sire! - It's the dancing girl!

- I appeal, Your Majesty! - Bring her up here.

- What have you done, child? - Not I - I appeal for the hunchback!

I am the woman he was supposed to have assaulted. It's not true!!

This man is being whipped for assaulting a Gypsy?

That was the decision of the court, my Lord.

But he is innocent!!

A Gypsy?!?

We must protect our citizens. It acts as a lesson to those who would assault a real woman.

Oh, very well.

But Your Highness - Your Highness! The hunchback is innocent!!

The prisoner will be exposed to one full hour of public display!

Water!

Water!

Water!

Here's your water!

That's enough! The hour is up!

She - she gave me water!!

- Your Majesty. - Eminence.

Minister.

How long has it been since my coronation?

Ten years? You've hidden yourself away all this time.

I've missed your presence at Court.

But this is where I am happiest, Your Majesty.

Within these walls. Everything I need is here.

But - it should not be so unusual to see you within these walls.

Ah yes! But I've been bound up with affairs of this world,

secure that you are taking care of the affairs of the next.

Now I must see why my High Minister keeps asking me to come down here.

Doesn't look like much.

The German inventor Gutenberg called it a "printing press", Your Maj

Oh the Germans, the Germans! Only the Germans could have invented such a damnable contraption.

- Damnable? It's just a machine! - Made in Hell.

- please, Monseigneur - - This - machine - could topple a kingdom.

- Your kingdom. - Come, come, Claude, don't exaggerate!

What's this?

It's the first page of the book they were printing when we seized this monstrosity.

- Liberty - A Call For Freedom.

- Who wrote this? - Does it matter?

With the press, anyone can become an author.

Anyone's opinions can be as important as anyone else's.

- That is the danger to my King. - Say what you really mean!

This isn't about political pamphlets,

it's about the suppression of knowledge!

Wrong! Wrong, sir!

You are wrong. I love knowledge.

It is my catechism: science, history, drama.

Knowledge is the true purpose of the Church.

Come.

In our library we have books that have survived the burning of the libraries of Alexandria.

Books that contain knowledge that has no other record.

Books, Your Majesty,

that are written by Man, by the hand of Man - not by a machine.

The press can distribute that knowledge to the masses more easily.

Easy"? Easy?

Your Majesty, "easy" is a trap.

When attaining knowledge becomes "easy",

when a man has no longer to labour a year over a single tome,

when people no longer seek knowledge in our cathedral libraries,

when it sits between leather covers on mantels in every home,

then it will have no value.

So,

everyone will have books?

Those books will be worthless.

An impassioned plea, old friend. But if the cathedrals are the handwriting of the past,

this press is of our time.

I won't do anything to stop its growth.

You mean�

You will rescind your father's solemn pledge to me

to support the Church in the banning of printed books?

Your Majesty! If we do not break the press, then nothing will be of value.

I'm not such a fool. I will drag this country into the sixteenth century.

And I will protect France against printed books

as I have protected France against witches, sorcerers and gypsies in the past.

There are no witches or sorcerers in France!

Exactly. Your Majesty.

Oh God...

Djali, you've dragged me all over Paris! Come on, stop!

You have to learn to walk like a lady!

Holy Lady of this land,

I ask for forgiveness.

An innocent was tortured because of me.

I can give you absolution.

Esmeralda?

Who's there?

An admirer. Someone who has seen you dance.

It was a day ago. I heard the sound of music -

my window looked out onto the square

and there I saw a creature dance,

a creature so perfect

that God himself would have preferred her to the Virgin,

would have wished to have been born of her.

And that creature was you, my angel.

What do you want of me?

The lines of your body,

moving to the music, reached feelings long buried within me.

Feelings I believed I had purged from my body,

feelings of love.

Physical love,

base desires�

I've not been able to work.

That's when it struck me that you were an angel -

yes, an angel. But not an angel of light.

A dark angel, sent from Hell to destroy me.

To destroy me at a time when I have been most directly challenged.

I have tried to put you out of my mind, I have tried to do God's will�

But your image is burned on the inside of my eyelids,

as though I had stared too long at the sun.

That's when I resolved that I must have you�

or I must rid myself of you.

Death!

Reading?

Dom Frollo!

I beg your pardon, but I needed to finish our discussion.

My servants did not announce you.

I saw no-one as I entered. What are you reading?

I will not hide it from you - Monsignor Ficino.

Ah, yes. Italian humanism.

You know, of course, that you are breaking the law?

Your law, Monseigneur,

which I will endeavour to overturn.

The reign of Louis XII will be the reign of change.

The world which you seek to protect will be left behind.

The world which you seek to make you will never see.

Would you like to wager on that?

The King is committed to change. Perhaps you don't understand that.

Perhaps it is you that does not understand.

This King may change what he will;

I meant that you would not live to see it.

Monseigneur -?

Good night, Gauchere.

God bless you.

Pierre! Pierre!

- I was just looking for you - - I have to hide!

- There are guards everywhere - there's this man - - Slow down! Slowly!

It's the King's Guard, they're rounding up all our women!

They're destroying everything, even the stuff we didn't steal!

- Why? - It's me they want.

Come on, quick! Quick!

We'll go back and distract them. Go!

Look, here she is!

No! No!

But I have done nothing, I have done nothing! Let go of me!

Peace, child! There's no need to make this too� unpleasant. Please.

Minister Gauchere was stabbed today with this knife.

Does this dagger belong to you? Now there's no need to deny it,

many saw it on your person in the public square.

Oh sir, I am innocent! I am!

Listen. I must fulfil the duties of my office.

The boot.

No!! I didn't do it, I swear I didn't do it! Oh please�

I'll have to strap her down. Pity. Begin!

- Confess! You deny the charges? - yes

Tighter!

You deny the charges?

- Yes! - Tighter!

Please, stop, Please

Tighter!

- Who's there? - Friend.

Gringoire, is that you? They say I killed a man, I didn't!

Did they hurt you?

I'll be able to walk up the gallows steps.

- Who is there? - Are you afraid?

Yes. But I deserve this.

Do not fear. You are innocent.

You are guilty of nothing.

- Gringoire, is that you? - Goodbye.

- Wait! Don't leave, don't leave yet! - I will set you free.

- Witch! - What is it?

- A visitor! - Leave me alone, let me see my wife!

Oh, Gringoire!

What have they done to you? Tomorrow I go to Louis himself!

I love you�

Do not give up hope my darling, I love you!

I'll see the King, I promise!

Who was at the window?

Corpus Dominum nostri, Jesu Christi.

Corpus Dominum nostri, Jesu Christi.

Corpus Dominum nostri, Jesu Christi.

Body of Christ...

Corpus Dominum nostri, Jesu Christi.

My King! My King! My King!

You've always been kind to the destitute. I kneel before you, innocent of crime.

- Take her away! - No!

Let it be heard that this woman,

known as La Esmeralda,

a gypsy of the streets of the world,

is to be hung by the neck until dead for taking the life of Monsieur Julien Gauchere.

Thereafter the body will remain on the scaffold for two days of public display!

Are you ready for absolution, my child?

You.

Do you confess your sins in the eyes of God,

that He may guide your soul to Heaven?

I can still save you.

Give yourself over to me, to the Church.

We can give you sanctuary.

As yours?

Never!

She has refused absolution!

May God have mercy on your soul.

Drums!

The Hunchback

- Sanctuary! Sanctuary! - Quazimodo

Follow me!

Inside, all of you! Get inside, quick!

Get away from this door!

Give us the gypsy witch and the hunchback.

- Sanctuary! Sanctuary! - Yes!

Sanctuary!

- Sanctuary! - Fire!!

Pick it up! We'll batter the door down!

Molten lead, molten lead,

molten lead... Molten lead, molten lead,

- Sanctuary! - Sanctuary!Sanctuary!Sanctuary!

Break that door down!

This - is the House - of God!

Esmeralda�

Eat. Eat.

I'm going away, so you won't have to see my ugly face when you're eating.

Wait! Please wait!

Wait!

Thank you.

You - called me back.

You're burnt! you most let me bandage them

Thank you.

- Can you understand what I say? - Yes.

I thought you were deaf.

I am! You think that is the last straw, don't you? Yes.

To be made this way, and deaf as well.

It's truly horrible.

- It's not that - - Yes.

I am deaf, you know.

Anyway, I shall soon know what you want,

from the movement of your lips, from your eyes.

Tell me - why did you rescue me?

You ask me why I rescued you.

You have forgotten a poor devil on that infamous pillory.

A drop of water and a little compassion.

I would pay for less than that with my life.

You forgot that poor devil, but he remembered.

Look, look! Look!

People - down there! Little people.

They would have killed you - they still will,

if you ever leave the church.

It's no use. The King would force them to give me up.

That would kill me.

We've got very high towers -

someone who fell from them would be dead before he struck the ground.

When you want me to fall, you won't have to say a single word.

A look will do.

You don't understand. I never want you to be harmed.

Thank you.

You will be safe yet.

Look! Look up there!

Friends! Come, come, look! Homer!

Euclid! Dante! Big Marie!

She's mother to them all.

She made me deaf, you know.

I can hear my friends. Shall I play them for you?

Stop!

What did you think?

- Beautiful. - Thank you.

Why do they call you La Esmeralda?

That's my name.

What does the word mean?

Emerald. What does 'Quasimodo' mean?

Almost made.

No. That is my own private joke.

It's the holiday Dom Frollo took me in, almost twenty years ago.

Quasimodo is the first Sunday after Easter. Low Sunday.

- Are your parents alive? - No.

- Do you miss them? - I never knew them.

I miss my goat, though. My parents are like an old dream.

My parents I never knew. Being not blind,

but merely dumb of love,

they abandoned me to die on the steps of this building.

Dom Frollo was a reverend then, not Archdeacon.

He took me out of the sight of men,

for that I am thankful.

The books in the library below became my only companions.

I've read every one of them.

Thanks to them, today I have many friends.

Through Cicero, to the

they taught me scholastics, poetics,

rhythmics and even hermetics.

That wisdom of wisdoms.

I'm writing a book.

It will have over six hundred pages when I'm finished.

I've never seen a book before.

What does it say? I cannot read.

It's Latin. Plutarch's "Lives".

It was you at the window of my cell.

Never have I seen my ugliness as I do now,

when I compare myself to you.

I feel very sorry for the foolish, unhappy monster that I am.

You are like a drop of dew,

the song of a bird!

While I am something frightful.

Hard. More downtrodden.

I am not a beast, I am not an animal.

I am about as shapeless as the Man in the Moon!

Come! Come!

Rest, rest. All will be well!

If you don't leave here they can't catch you!

No-one can get in here, I wouldn't let them!

If you're afraid, pull the rope - I can hear the bell.

- All right, back! He helped Esmeralda! - You are the speaker?

- No, no! Him. - I am the speaker.

- How is she? - She's fine.

She asks for you.

What's this?

Pardon. People of Paris.

- Quickly, please? - "Parisians, day after day innocent people disappear�

- Some die on the gallows, others are buried alive in dungeons..." - Yes.

- You wrote this? - I! I!

Is there nothing we can get you?

Yes. Her goat.

Thank you. Thank you. Come!

Your Highness�. Hope!

These pamphlets are being distributed by thieves, craftsmen and students throughout Paris!

The product of a printing press, sire!

Well, you must have missed one!

Yes. Yes, I - I am not perfect.

Look out of the window! Paris is tearing itself down there.

Common people are calling for me to pardon this gypsy.

My fellow nobles demand justice. They call for me to suspend sanctuary.

That would be a terrible precedent.

She killed my High Minister!

Your Majesty, Gauchere and I were not of like minds, but believe me in this,

I want nothing more than to see this woman punished.

I will continue the ban on printed books,

and the presses necessary to create them.

God bless you. I knew that you would.

I will find the people responsible for these pamphlets, and I will deal with them.

Claude! What am I supposed to do about this gypsy woman?

- Prepare to administer justice to her in the morning. - But the law of sanctuary -

says that you cannot take her from the church!

Quasimodo�

QUASIMODO!!!!!

ESMERALDA.

ESMERALDA.

Clamavi a te, Domine...

Come in, Quasimodo.

Father, where is the gypsy? Where is she?

- You used the printing press. - I needed to.

- You broke the law. - I had to.

She is innocent. Where is she?

You violated my most sacred law.

Please... Where is Esmeralda?

On her way to the gallows.

You gave her up to the King. Why?

For justice.

She is not guilty.

- She is evil! - No!

Quasimodo - she caused the Minister's death.

She made me do it.

The madness in my body - she created it.

She made me a murderer, and for that she must die.

She should die for your crime?

Have you no pity?

Pity? Pity?

Oh Quasimodo, pity me!

To be a man of God, and to love a woman -

and to love her more than God.

To love her with all the fury of my soul!

And to feel that I would give my blood, my reputation,

my salvation, my immortality -

eternity! - for the least of her smiles,

and to know that all I can offer her is a filthy priest's cassock.

To feel her, night and day, in your dreams, and see her fall in love with another!

To see that body, whose contours scorch you,

and those breasts, with all their softness -

that flesh, that throbs and quivers beneath another's kisses!

Do you know the torture you can be made to endure through long nights by a bursting heart

Why do you think I did not know such things?

Has your search for the light made you blind?

She destroyed my work!

My vows! She came between God and me!

She proved that I have lived a wasted life�

I was not worthy of God's work.

Pity me, Quasimodo.

You are pitiable, but I have no pity for you.

You are not Saint Augustine.

Yours is a torment you take for yourself and can end by choice.

- Come. We will tell this story in the Hall of Justice. - NO!!!

I will be rid of her!

I will! I will!

She's cursed you too, she's made us both murderers!

Fool! Do you think that she could love you?

Father -

I am not your father! Your father was wiser than I!

He abandoned you, he left you to die!

It was I who gave you life.

You are a freak!

I am not a freak.

Let it be known that this woman -

- What's this? - The beggars are going to attack the Palace! Hundreds of them are rioting.

I summon you, Louis the Twelfth, to give up the gypsy girl!

The citizens of Paris have come to save her from the nobles who want to hang her!

What's all this about? Who are you?

I am Clopin, King of Paris!

- Sire! My lord! - And who are you?

Sire - the Gypsy girl is innocent!

If she is innocent, then who is the real murderer?

PARIS!!!

Say it.

Never - never!

Say you did it.

She will die with me.

You'll die without absolution.

Tell the truth.

Please. The truth.

It - was - I!!

Yes, it was him!! Murderer!

- Now - you forgive me? - yes

I must rid myself of her.

No!

Quasimodo - no! Quasimodo!

- Quasimodo? - Father...

Goodbye.

I won't let you go!

Quasimodo�

Life leaves me...

It's too deep.

Not there... here.

Why was I not made of stone like thee?

Why?

Your friends will sing for you.

�� ������ �������� ������� memo2omr@yahoo.com

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