Notre-Dame de Paris Page #5

Season #1 Episode #1

---

The Voluptuary

Phoebus:

Light of delight, when everything's alright.

The first man to hold you tight, and show love in all its might.

May no hands other than mine, ever touch your love so fine.

Dark angel of the street, hold on to me I'll show you night is sweet.

Hold on to me; let me feel how your wild wings beat.

Esmeralda:

We, though we're not the same, burn in a single flame.

I want your love; I will risk all my life for you.

Take me; take me if it is my destiny.

Phoebus:

Come see, come see if it's your destiny.

Esmeralda:

Phoebus.

Phoebus:

Esmeralda!

Destiny

Gringoire:

Oh destiny, you are the master of man.

Oh destiny, you write our lives in the sand.

Oh destiny, though we do all that we can.

Oh destiny, you say if we fall or stand.

Oh destiny, you hold our lives in your hand.

Fleur-de-Lys, Frollo, Quasimodo, & Clopin:

Oh destiny.

Oh destiny.

Oh destiny.

Act 2

Talk To Me Of Florence

Frollo:

Talk to me of Florence, and of the renaissance.

And of Bramante tell and of great Dante's hell.

Gringoire:

In Florence they have found, that the world is really round.

And there's a new unknown, continent to be found

Gringoire:

They tell me ships have sailed, upon the open sea.

For new ways to the East, where ever they may be.

Frollo:

Luther will give the world, the true New Testament.

The old world falls apart, mankind learns discontent.

Gringoire:

And Gutenberg with his books will change the world again.

Frollo:

In Nuremberg on his press, books pour forth, day out day in.

Gringoire:

Novels poems and songs, men can read of right and wrong.

Frollo & Gringoire:

New ideas come along, who knows where we belong.

Gringoire:

The little things all come, with great things to descend.

The little words are strong, they bring down monuments.

Frollo:

The books they read in school, will kill cathedrals all.

The bible kills the church, and man will make god fall.

The new will kill the old.

Frollo & Gringoire:

They tell me ships have sailed, upon the ocean sea.

For new ways to the east, wherever they may be.

Luther will give the world, the true New Testament.

The old world falls apart, mankind learns discontent.

The new will kill the old.

The new will kill the old.

The Bells

Gringoire:

The bells do not play, in Notre dame today.

Quasimodo hides up above, Quasimodo is sick with love.

Frollo:

The bells have lost their voice, for three days by his choice.

Quasimodo is sad, Quasimodo is going mad.

Frollo & Gringoire:

Quasimodo dies for love.

Quasimodo:

The bells that I make ring; they are my loves, they love me well.

I want to hear them sing, loud as they swing; my pretty bells.

In thunder or hail, or in wind or in rain.

Their song will never fail, singing through joy, singing through pain.

Bells that ring when we're born, Bells that ring when we die.

Bells that ring every day, every night, every hour.

Bells that ring when we pray, Bells that ring when we cry.

Bells that ring to wake us up when the sun lights the sky.

For the feast of Rameaux, for the Quasimodo.

For a bright Christmas day and for the day of all saints.

For annunciation, for the resurrection.

For St valentine day and for when Good Friday comes.

Celebrations they sing, all processions they ring.

The most beautiful day it is the feast of our lord.

Days of years, days of kings.

Easter day my bells ring.

And on Pentecost day they sing with bright tongues of flame.

Confirmation they sing, and communions they ring.

Bells that toll for our death; Dies Irae, dies illa.

For ascension they sing, for assumption they ring.

Bells that bring us hosanna and sing hallelujah.

The bells I hold most dear, of the beauties I have here.

They are my Mary's three, all best friends to me.

When my little Mary rings, when children die she sets them free.

And my big Mary rings, when sailors set forth on the sea.

But when my great Mary sings, when lovers exchange wedding rings.

Then something in me always cries; then something in me always dies.

To see their happiness, to see their tenderness.

When a woman will not give me a single caress.

My bells marry and blend, and take wings on the wind.

In the midst of the stars up in the vaults of the sky.

All these bells that I sound, Kyrie Elieson.

Hosanna Allelujah Dies irae dies illa.

Bells that mourn with the sad, bells that laugh with the glad.

All these bells that have never not once rung out for me.

The bells that I make ring; they are my loves, such joy they bring.

I want to hear them sing, if Esmeralda does still live.

To tell the world, that Quasimodo loves Esmeralda.

Where Is She

Frollo:

Gringoire where has your lady gone? I never see her dance at Notre dame.

Gringoire:

I don't really know where she has gone, priests and poets are not one.

In women I see love; the church puts them below and my poems above.

Frollo:

Where is she, your Esmeralda? The small Paris streets can't sing without her song.

Gringoire:

She's alone in a tower of stone, far from those who fear all her powers unknown.

Frollo:

Poet what do you say, is it this or that way?

Do not use your words to play, have you seen her today?

Clopin:

Where is she my Esmeralda? The kingdom I rule has lost all its splendour.

Gringoire:

She is like a swallow of spring, that someone has caught and tied down the wings.

Gringoire:

She is there in the prison called la-Sonte.

If she can't get away that is where she will stay, until she is hung.

Clopin:

You need tell me no more.

Frollo, Clopin & Gringoire:

Where is she your Esmeralda?

The small Paris streets can't sing without her song.

She is like a swallow of spring, that someone has caught and tied down the wings.

The Birds They Put In Cages

Esmeralda:

Will the birds they put in cages, ever ride upon the wind?

Will the children life outrages, ever learn to love again?

I lived my life like a swallow; I arrived here in the springtime.

All the little streets I'd follow, all the gypsy songs were mine.

Where's my friend who rings the church bells?

Where are you my Quasimodo?

They will hang me as the light swells, you can break these bars I know.

Quasimodo:

Esmeralda have you left me? Do you hide yourself away?

I have counted every hour; I have missed you every day.

Have you left upon a journey, with your handsome shining soldier?

With no marriage taking love free, like the gypsy girl you are.

Have you died out in the small streets, with no prayer to get to heaven?

There's a priest who counts your heartbeat, if he comes near you must run.

Esmeralda:

You remember at the street fair.

Quasimodo:

When they hurt me on the great wheel.

Esmeralda:

When you begged I gave you water.

Quasimodo:

At your feet I had to kneel.

Quasimodo & Esmeralda:

On that day our friendship started, it will last as long as we live.

Once together never parted, all we'll have to give we'll give.

Will the birds they put in cages, ever ride upon the wind.

Will the children life outrages, ever learn to love again?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes