The Hunchback of Notre Dame

I've never heard a more beautiful Angelus.

Who is the bellringer of Notre Dame?

Quasimodo, Your Majesty.

The people simply call him

the Hunchback.

What an odd name.

And now, Master Fisher,

let's see what reason...

...my High Justice had for asking me

to come to your shop.

What do you call this apparatus?

The German inventor, Gutenberg,

calls it a printing press, Your Majesty.

What is it for?

To print books, Your Majesty.

- For whom?

- For the people.

They will learn to read

when they can get books.

I can print a volume, like this one,

in a few weeks...

...and quite inexpensively.

Imagine, Frollo, a few weeks.

When I ordered my prayer book...

...it took them years to copy it out...

...and cost me a fortune.

This is more beautiful

than the printed book.

Nevertheless, the printing press

is a miracle.

A horrifying miracle.

Horrifying? This small press?

Small things have a way

of overmastering the great.

"The Nile rat kills the crocodile."

This small press can destroy a kingdom.

Oh, come, my High Justice,

don't exaggerate.

What is that?

It is the first page of a new book,

Your Majesty.

Let me see it.

"On the Freedom of Thought."

- Who wrote it?

- Pierre Gringoire.

Gringoire? Who is he?

A French poet, Your Majesty.

A heretic, sire.

To spread him is to communicate disease.

How do you know?

It may be a great blessing to France...

...if people can get books

and learn to read.

To me, it's a new form

of expression of thought.

Out there is the old form.

All over France, in every city...

...there stand cathedrals like this one...

...triumphal monuments of the past.

They tower over the homes

of our people like mighty guardians...

...keeping alive the invincible faith

of the Christians.

Every arch, every column, every statue...

...is a carved leaf out of our history.

A book in stone...

...glorifying the spirit of France.

The cathedrals are the handwriting

of the past...

...the press is of our time...

... and I won't do anything to stop it, Frollo.

Sire, we must break the press

and hang the printer.

For, between them, they will destroy

our old and holy order.

No, I'm not such a fool.

I, for my part, will protect France from

these printed books, as I will protect it...

...from witches, sorcerers and Gypsies...

...the foreign race that is overrunning

all of Europe.

Why do you stop us?

Because no Gypsies can enter Paris

any longer without a permit.

It's the new law.

- Lf the others can enter, why can't we?

- They are Frenchmen. You're Gypsies.

- Foreigners.

- Foreigners.

You came yesterday, we come today.

Let them pass. It's Fools' Day.

Fools' Day or not,

we don't want these foreigners.

Stop her. Catch her.

What's the matter, Hlne?

Grandma, the Hunchback of Notre Dame

just crossed my path.

Go home quickly, and light the candle.

That won't help against Quasimodo.

He's possessed.

Yvonne, aren't you going to the festival

to see the king?

I can't. Mother says there are too many

thieves and beggars in the crowd.

Oh, they'll get you at home just as well.

You'll see.

Well, what's he trying to do?

He has heard it rumored

that the earth is round...

...and is attempting to walk

to the Indies, the idiot.

- It's not round, it's flat.

- The idiot!

Some famous geographers

and mathematicians also believe...

...the earth is round.

- It isn't round, it's flat.

Do you recollect that letter we had from...

What's his name?

Oh, Christopher Columbus...

...who wrote claiming that he could,

by steering a westerly course...

...reach the Indies?

- It's flat.

I'm greatly tempted to endow the venture.

Our country could not afford

the risk of such an enterprise.

Columbus...

The man's the laughingstock

of the court of Spain.

Who knows...?

The future may prove Ferdinand's court

was the laughingstock.

- It isn't round.

- What are you mumbling about, Doctor?

- The earth isn't round, it's flat.

- How do you know?

I have observed it

on all my travels over Europe.

It's flat. Everywhere it's flat.

Oh, let's listen to the play.

"The old can never last.

"The new is claiming its place.

"It's foolish to cling to the past.

"Believe in the future's face.

"It pains me to relate that death...

"...is the fate of noble and peasant, alike.

"You are born in a womb.

"And end in a tomb."

The king's coming.

Pennies...

Pennies...

- How's business?

- Bad.

How's business?

It would be better

if all weren't watching the play.

- I'll tend to that.

- You'd better.

"You rest and live and rest again.

"Beware you do not live in vain."

And if you eat too much,

you throw it up again.

You stupid, ignorant drunkards, you!

I offer you truth...

- We don't want your truth.

- No, we don't want it.

We will now choose

the King of Fools.

Applicants come forth. Men, women...

The ugliest face wins the crown.

Ugly faces!

Ugly faces!

How do you like this face?

The ugly is very appealing to man.

- It's a matter of taste.

- No, it's instinct.

One shrinks from the ugly,

yet wants to look at it.

There's a devilish fascination in it.

We extract pleasure from horror.

Only the mob, sire.

Think so?

Look at our friends.

They don't look exactly uninterested.

Horrible.

That's the prettiest ugliness

I've ever seen.

Awful.

Beautiful.

What?

That girl, what a beauty.

I've never seen her before. Have you?

She is pretty.

- Who is she? What's her name?

- Esmeralda.

The people seem to like her,

and so do I.

- Doctor, lend me half a livre.

- A half livre?

- Afraid I won't repay you?

- She's a Gypsy, sire.

Who cares about her race?

She's pretty.

Doesn't she make your pulse beat faster?

What about you, Doctor?

I'm a widower four times, sire...

...but I could begin all over again.

What's the matter?

That eye...

...staring at me.

- Somebody's in there.

- It's an animal.

- It's a fiend.

- Come out, if you're a good Christian.

Let's get under there and see what it is.

Get him out of there.

- Get under. Get after him.

- He's going out the other way.

- It's Quasimodo.

- It's the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Don't spoil their fun, Frollo.

Stay here.

Make him the king.

Well, Quasimodo, we knew you were ugly,

but didn't know you were so ugly.

We've never been so close to you before.

You've always been up in your bell tower.

And now we want to make you

King of Fools. What do you say?

What's the matter? Are you deaf?

The plague to you. I offer you

the fools' crown, and you bite me.

He's deaf, the bells have made him so.

Deaf... maybe he's dumb, too.

- That makes him the perfect king.

- No, he can speak.

- But he doesn't like to.

- Well, what will we do about it?

Show him the crown.

By unanimous vote,

we now proclaim you King of Fools.

"King Quasimodo, Quasi-Quasimodo

"Quasimodo, ruler of fools we bow

"All you rabble,

scum and scavengers of France

"Mark you the fool

with crown upon his ugly brow

"Hail to the idiot king

Shout and sing

"Quasimodo, Quasimodo

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