Scene II
Claude Frollo, Phœbus. Claude Frollo stops Phœbus as he is about to go out
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Captain!
PHŒBUS.
Who is this man?
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Listen to me?
PHŒBUS.
Make haste!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Do you know the name of the one
Who awaits you at the meeting to-night?
PHŒBUS.
By my life, it is my beauty!
The one I love and who loves me.
My song-bird, my dancing gypsy,
My Esmeralda, it is she!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
It is death!
PHŒBUS.
Friend! First, you are an idiot;
Second, go to the devil!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Listen!
PHŒBUS.
What do I care?
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Phœbus, if you cross the threshold of that door—
PHŒBUS.
You are mad!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
You are dead!
Tremble! One of the gypsies she!
No law protects those awful places.
There love’s a masquerade for hate,
Death lies concealed in their embraces.
PHŒBUS (laughing).
My dear sir, readjust your cape,
Return unto your fools’ retreat!
Strange they allow you to escape!
May Esculapius, Jupiter, the Devil,
Thither conduct your straying feet!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
Truly they are faithless women;
Believe that the report speaks true.
Darkness strange and deep surrounds them;
Phœbus! there death waits for you!
[Claude Frollo’s earnestness seems to trouble Phœbus, who looks at his interrogator with anxiety.
PHŒBUS.
He astounds me!
Ah, he wounds me,
In spite of myself, with doubt!
This city great
Is full of hate,
And treachery is all about!
CLAUDE FROLLO.
I astound him,
And I wound him,
In spite of himself, with doubt.
The fool, he fears,
And sees and hears
Nothing but treachery about.
Believe me—my lord, avoid the siren
Who lures you to destruction.
More than one gypsy in her rage
Has stabbed a heart palpitating with love.
[Phœbus, whom he tries to drag along, recovers himself and pushes him off.
PHŒBUS.
Have I become a fool?
Gypsy, Jewess, or Moor,
The love that questions what she be
Is love most base and poor.
The fateful hour is come,
Unto my love I fly!
If death be but as sweet as she,
It will be fine to die!
CLAUDE FROLLO (holding him).
Consider! A gypsy!
Your folly is great.
How dare you thus rashly
Trifle with fate!
Oh, dread the false creature
Who waits in the gloom,
And do not thus wildly
Rush to your doom.
[Phœbus exits quickly, in spite of Claude Frollo. Claude Frollo stands gloomy and undecided for a moment; then follows Phœbus.