Chapter 55 Notre Dame de Paris (3) Volume 8 Gold Coins Turn into Dry Leaves (6)

Liu San has different hearts Actually, Phoebus is not dead.Such a man always endures, Monsieur Philippe Leliere, counselor to the king, told poor Esmeralda that he was going to die, either by slip of the tongue or as a joke, the archdeacon said to the prisoner He was dead, in fact he didn't know it at all, but he believed it, he reckoned, he didn't doubt it, he really wished he was dead.It was too much for him to tell the woman he loved the good news about his rival.Any man in his position would do that. This is not to say that Phoebus's injury is not serious, but it is not as severe as the archdeacon's exaggeration.At first the soldiers on patrol took him to the doctor's house, who feared that he would not live for a week, and even told him in Latin.In the end, however, the power of youth prevailed.It often happens that, in spite of all the predictions and diagnoses made by the doctor, nature still loves to mock the doctor and bring the patient back to life.While he was still lying on the doctor's broken bed, he was irritated by the preliminary questioning by Philippe Leliere and the Inquisitor.So one morning, feeling better, he left his golden spurs for medical bills, and slipped away without a sound.However, this did not cause much trouble to the preliminary hearing of the case. The judiciary at that time rarely considered whether a criminal case was clear and clear. All it needed was to hang the accused.What's more, the judge has a lot of evidence against Esmeralda. They think that Phoebus is dead, so there is nothing to say.

Phoebus did not flee very far, but returned to his garrison at the Ile-de-France, G-en-Bry, a few stages away from Paris. In short, he found it anything but pleasant to be present in person in this case.He vaguely felt that he would play a very ridiculous role in it.In the final analysis, how to view the whole incident, he can't think too much.As irreligious as any simple-minded warrior, he was superstitious, and as he contemplated this adventure, he was obsessed with the goat, with the strange way he had met Esmeralda, with the way he had guessed she loved him. He was suspicious of her strange ways, of her Egyptian qualities, and finally of the wild monk.He vaguely saw that in this affair, the element of witchcraft was far greater than that of love.She might be a witch, or she might be a devil; after all, it was a burlesque, or, as it was called at the time, a very bad miracle play, in which he played a very poor part, beaten, tortured People laughed.The captain was very ashamed of this, and he felt the shame so beautifully described by our La Fontaine:

Ashamed as a fox caught by a hen. Besides, he hoped that the incident would not be publicized, that his name would not be proclaimed aloud, at least not outside the courtroom of Tournell, if he did not appear in court.He was not wrong in that, there were no Gazettes, and besides, there was not a week in the countless trials in Paris that did not boil counterfeiters, hang witches, or burn Heretic, it is commonplace on every street corner to see Themis, keeper of the feudal system, rolling up her sleeves and doing her work bare-armed on gallows, ladders, and posts of shame, and so hardly cares about these things. Pay attention.At that time, the upper class hardly knew the names of the victims who passed by on street corners, and at most only ordinary people enjoyed this crude feast.An execution is just a common trifle in ordinary life, as commonplace as a roasting pan in a rotisserie or a butcher's slaughterhouse.An executioner is only slightly more powerful than a butcher.

So Phoebus soon found himself at ease, about the witch Esmeralda, or, as he called it, Simila, about the stabbing of the gypsy girl or the wild monk (whoever he was), about the outcome of the interrogation, I don't even think about it.However, as soon as his heart felt empty in this respect, the image of Miss Lily returned to his heart.Captain Phoebes' heart, like the physics of that time, abhors a vacuum.Besides, G-en-Brye is a dreary village of blacksmiths with horseshoes and cow-women with rough hands, a high road with ramshackle houses and huts forming a strip half a mile long, Like a tail②.

Lily ranks second to last in his erotic world.She was a pretty girl, with a charming dowry; and so, one morning, the cured knight in love, thinking that two months had elapsed since the case of the gypsy woman must have been closed and forgotten, rode off. He came to the door of Gondelaurier's mansion in small steps. ① The goddess of justice in Greek mythology. ② The French word for tail is: queue, and its pronunciation is similar to Chinese "格". He did not pay attention to the huge crowd that had gathered in the square in front of the gate of Notre-Dame.He remembered that it was May, imagined that people were holding some parades, some Pentecost or funerals, etc., so he tied his horse to the door knocker, and happily went upstairs to the home of his beautiful fiancée.

She is alone with her mother. Lily has been obsessed with a series of questions about the witch, the goat, the cursed alphabet, and Phoebus's long absence.Now, when she saw her captain come in, and found him so good-looking, his uniform so new, his ribbon so bright, and his expression so enthusiastic, she blushed with joy.The noble lady herself was more charming than ever.Her beautiful blond hair was braided into braids that made her look even more attractive.She was dressed all over in a sky-blue dress that matched her tender skin very well. This was a coquettish dress that Columbus had taught her, and her eyes showed a languid look of fascination, which added a lot of charm.

Phoebus, who had not seen a beauty since he had tasted the girl of G-en-Bry, was now captivated by the lilies, which made our officer seem very courteous and fawning, and the original quarrel was at once reconciled. up.Madame Gondlaurier, who had been sitting motherly in her large easy chair, could not muster the strength to reproach him.As for the reproach of the lily, it turned into a gentle whisper. The girl was sitting by the window, embroidering her sea god's cave all the time.The captain leaned on the back of the chair, and she reprimanded him in a low voice: "Bad man, what have you been doing for two whole months?"

"I swear to you." Phoebus was momentarily at a loss when asked this question, and interrupted and replied, "You are so beautiful that even the archbishop would have a dream." She couldn't help smiling. "There, there, sir. Put my beauty aside, and answer my words. Really, that would be wonderful!" "Come! My dear cousin, I am called to the garrison." "Where is it, please? Then why don't you come and say goodbye to me?" "At G-en-Bry." Phoebus was delighted, the first question helped him avoid the second. "But it's so near, sir, why don't you come and see me once?"

Now Phoebus was really stumped. "Because... I'm on official business. Besides, my lovely cousin, I'm sick." "I'm sick!" She was startled. "Yes... hurt." "Injuried!" The poor girl was panic-stricken. "Ah! Don't be afraid," said Phoebus indifferently. "It's nothing. A quarrel, a knife, what does that matter to you?" "What does it have to do with me?" Lily raised her beautiful eyes full of tears and said loudly, "Ah! You didn't mean what you said. What's the matter with using force? I want to know all about it."

"Well then! My dear beauty, I had a quarrel with Mae Ferdy, you know? He is the lieutenant-general of Saint-Germain-en-Lye, and we each broke an inch of skin, that's the size." thing." The lying captain knew very well that a duel would always make a man stand out in the eyes of a woman.Sure enough, Lily looked at him head-on with fear, joy, admiration, and excitement, but she was still a little uneasy. "I hope you are really well, my Phoebus!" said she. "I don't know your Mai Feidi, but he must be a bad fellow. How did the quarrel begin?" Phoebus's imagination has always been mediocre, and for a while he didn't know how to escape from the martial arts he invented.

"Ah! how do I know? . . . A trifle, a horse, a word! Pretty cousin," he cried out, in order to change the subject, "what's the commotion in the church square?" He approached the window, "Ah! My God, pretty cousin, look, there are so many people in the square!" "I don't know," said Lily. "It seems that a witch made a public confession in front of the church this morning, and then hanged herself." The captain really thought that Esmeralda's case was over, so he was not very excited by Lily's words, but he asked a question or two. "What's the name of this witch?" "I don't know." She replied. "Have you heard what she did?" This time, she shrugged her fair shoulders again. "have no idea." "Ah! my Lord Jesus!" said the mother, "there are so many wizards these days that people burn them, and I don't think I know their names. To know their names is like trying to find out who they are in heaven." The name of a piece of cloud. In short, you can calm down, the merciful God holds the book of life and death." At this time, the venerable lady stood up and walked to the window. "Lord!" she said, "you're right, Phoebus. Look, there's such a commotion over there among the populace. Thank God! Even the roofs are full of people. Do you know, Phoebus. The scene reminds me of that." I remember the good old days. There were plenty of people when King Charles VII came to town. I can't remember the year. When I tell you this, you think it's a cliché, don't you? And I It feels very fresh. Oh, there were many more people then than now. Even the battlements of St. Anton's Gate were full of people. The king rode a horse, and the queen sat behind him, followed by the lady. They were all seated behind the nobleman's horse. I remember people laughing, because next to the short Armaignon of the Garlandes, there was a huge cavalier, Monsieur Matt Furlong, who had slain all men. Heaps of Englishmen. That's wonderful. All the courtiers of France lined up with little red flags that dazzle red. Spearhead pennants and battle flags, I can't tell. Calan Your Excellency with the pennant, Jean de Châteaumoran with the battle standard, Monsieur Coucy with his battle standard, second only to the Duke of Bourbon... Alas! To think that all this was once glorious, and now it is all gone Wucun, how sad it is!" The lovers did not listen to what the venerable widow had to say.Phoebus turned again and leaned on the back of his fiancée's chair.This is a comfortable position. His unbridled gaze can penetrate all the openings of the lily collar. The neckline is opened just right, allowing him to see many beautiful parts and reminding him of many other parts. Therefore, Phoebus was dazzled by the shiny skin like satin, and said to himself: "If you don't love such a fair and tender woman, who else can you love?" Both of them were silent.From time to time the girl raised her cheerful, gentle eyes to him, their hair mingled in the spring sunshine. "Phoebus," whispered Lily suddenly. "We're going to be married in three months, and you're going to swear to me that you've never loved any woman but me." "I swear to you, fair angel!" replied Phoebus.In order to conquer the lily, his eyes were full of lust, and his tone of voice was so sincere that he may even believe it himself at this time. At this moment, the kind mother saw that the unmarried couple were so in love with each other, she couldn't help being happy, so she went out to do some housework.Phoebus saw that she was gone, and there was no one else in the room. The bold captain suddenly became bold, and all kinds of absurd thoughts came into his mind.Lily loved him, he was her fiancé, and now she was alone with him, and his old interest in her was revived, not in its freshness, but in its lust; It is no great sin to eat a little before the wheat is ripe; I do not know whether such thoughts crossed his mind, but one thing is certain, Lily was completely stunned by the look in his eyes.She looked around and found that her mother was gone. "My God!" she blushed and panicked. "It's killing me!" "No, I think it's almost noon," answered Phoebus. "The sun is shining on people, just put down the curtains." "No, don't let it go," cried the poor girl, "on the contrary, I want some air." Like a doe feeling the scent of hounds, she rose, ran to the window, opened it, and rushed out onto the balcony. Phoebus, angry and exasperated, ran after her. As you know, the balcony faces the square in front of Notre Dame.At this time, a gloomy and strange scene appeared in the square, which suddenly changed the fear of the timid Lily. A great crowd filled all the nearby streets, and even the square itself was packed.If it weren't for the 220 policemen and musketeers armed with long guns to form a thick human wall for reinforcement, the elbow-level low wall around the vestibule would not be able to stop the flow of people.Fortunately, there were many guns and halberds, and the vestibule was empty.The entrance was guarded by halberd-wielding infantry bearing the bishop's coat of arms.The doors of the cathedral were tightly shut, in contrast to the innumerable windows all around the square, even the gabled windows, which revealed thousands of heads, almost like a gun storehouse. Stacks of shells overlapping. The faces of the mob were ashen, dirty, and gray, and what one was waiting to see was evidently especially capable of triggering and evoking the most sinister emotions in the populace. Nothing was more detestable than the sound that emanated from this squirming crowd of khaki hats and muddy hair, more laughing than shouting, more women than men. From time to time a trembling scream pierced the tumult. ………… "Hey! Maier Ballifere! hang her here?" "Fool! Just pleading here in your underwear! Good God will spit Latin in her face! It's always here, at noon. If you want to see the hanging, go to the beach square." "Go after reading this." ………… "Well, tell me, Boucombri? Did she really refuse the confessor?" "It seems so, Bethany." "Look, heretic woman!" ………… "It is the custom, my lord, that when a criminal is condemned, he must be handed over to the magistrate of Paris, if he is a layman, and to the bishop's court, if he is a clergyman, by the magistrate of the palace of justice." "Thank you, my lord." ………… "Oh, my God!" said the Lily. "Poor man!" Thinking of this, her eyes that scanned the crowd were filled with pain.The captain of the guard was only thinking about her, and he didn't care about the group of ragged audiences.He embraced her waist affectionately from behind.She turned her head with a smile, and begged: "Please, let me go, Phoebus! If mother comes back, she will see your hand." At this time, the big clock of Notre Dame struck twelve slowly, and there was a murmur of relief from the crowd, and just as the trill stopped on the twelfth, all the people gathered together like the wind pushing the waves.From the road, windows, and roofs came a great clamor: "Here she comes!" Lily covered her eyes with her hands and did not look. "My dear," said Phoebus to her. "Do you want to go back to the house?" "No," she replied.Her eyes, which had been closed in fright just now, opened again out of curiosity. A two-wheeled prison cart, drawn by a big fat Norman horse, surrounded by cavalrymen wearing purple livery embroidered with white crosses, entered the square from St. Swing the whip hard to clear the way for them.Several magistrates and guards rode beside the prison wagon, recognizable from their black uniforms and the awkward posture of their horses.Monsieur Jacques Charmolue walked in front of them in a pompous manner. In the ominous prison wagon sat a girl with her arms folded behind her back, without a priest by her side.She was in underwear, and her dark hair (cut at the gallows at the gallows then) fell loosely about her neck and half-naked shoulders. Through the wavy hair, brighter than a crow's feather, one could see a thick gray rope, twisted and knotted about the poor girl's pretty neck, and grazed her slender collarbone like an earthworm. Climb on a flower.Beneath this cord shone a small amulet adorned with green glass beads, which she had presumably allowed to keep, since requests were not denied to those who were dying.From the window, the viewer looks into the van and catches a glimpse of her bare legs.As if out of a woman's last instinct, she tried to hide her feet under her body.At her feet was a young goat bound.The prisoner, biting her teeth into her unbuttoned underwear, seemed to still be suffering from being almost naked in plain sight when the catastrophe struck.cough!Shame is not created for such trembling! "Jesus!" Lily said excitedly to the captain. "Look, good cousin! It's the gypsy wretch with the goat!" As soon as the words fell, he turned to Phoebus.He stared at the truck, his face pale. "A gypsy woman with a goat?" he murmured. "What!" said Lily again, "you don't remember? . . . " Phoebus interrupted her. "I do not understand what you were saying." He took a step to enter the house.But Lily, who had been so jealous not long ago about this Egyptian girl, suddenly came to her senses, and gave him a keen and suspicious look.At this time, she vaguely remembered that she had heard someone talk about a captain who had been involved in this witch case. "What is the matter with you?" she said to Phoebus. "I heard that this woman has touched your heart." Phoebus smiled. "I'm tempted! Nothing at all! Ah, ha, let it be!" "Then, stay here." She ordered without hesitation. "Together we see the end." The unlucky captain had to stay down.He was a little relieved that the female prisoner's gaze never left the floor of the prison van.Indeed, that is Esmeralda. Even in the last moments of this disgrace and misfortune, she was still beautiful, with her large black eyes, which were made larger by the thinning of her cheeks.Her pale face was pure and noble, she was still the same as before, like the Madonna painted by Masaccio, like the Madonna painted by Raphael, but weaker, thinner, thinner.Besides, there was nothing in her soul that was not shaking, and she let it go except shame, for she had broken down in astonishment and despair.With each jolt of the prison van, her body jolted, like a dead or broken object.Her eyes were dim and frantic, and she could see tears in her eyes, but they remained motionless, almost frozen. At this time, the gloomy cavalry passed through the crowd amidst joyful shouts and strange gestures.However, as loyal officials, we have to say that seeing her so beautiful and suffering so much, many people felt pity for her, even the most hard-hearted people.The prison van entered the vestibule. The prison van stopped in front of the main entrance of Notre Dame.The escorted team felt like an enemy.The crowd suddenly fell silent, and in this solemn and anxious silence, the two doors of the main entrance seemed to open automatically with the screeching sound of their hinges like a piccolo.As a result, people can see the dark and gloomy depths of the church, and a few candles on the main altar hung with black gauze are flickering in the distance, half bright and half dark.The cathedral was open, like a gigantic opening in the middle of the dazzled square.At the end of the church, in the shadow of the semicircular apse, a huge silver cross can be vaguely seen, displayed on a black curtain hanging from the dome to the ground. In the pews, the heads of the priests moved vaguely; and when the doors were opened, a solemn song rose from the church, loud and monotonous, like fragments of melancholy psalms shot over the heads of the prisoners. ① Massaccio (1401-1429): Italian painter. "... I am not afraid of those who surround me: Arise, Lord; save me, God!" ① "...save me, God! For the waters have come in and have drowned my soul." "...I'm stuck in the mud, with no place to stand." ② At the same time, besides the chorus, another voice hummed the mournful tribute from the steps of the main altar: "Whoever listens to my words and believes in the one who sent me, he will live forever, not come to be judged, and come back from the dead." ③ A few old men, hidden in the darkness, sang from a distance to this beautiful creature, full of youth and vitality, caressed by the warm spring air, and illuminated by the bright sun. This is a memorial mass. ① See Chapter 69 of The Psalms of the Old Testament.Originally in Latin. ② See the third chapter of "Old Testament Psalms", the original text is Latin. ③ See chapter five of Revelation in the New Testament.Originally in Latin. People listened in silence. The unfortunate girl lost her soul, as if her eyes and thoughts had disappeared into the dark depths of the church.Her pale lips moved as if in prayer.When the executioner's servant came up to her and helped her out of the prison cart, she heard her repeating in a low voice: Phoebus. With her hands unbound, she got out of the van, followed by her goat; the goat, also unbound, felt free and bleated happily.They let her go barefoot on the hard stone slabs to the stone steps of the gate.The thick rope around her neck dragged behind her like a snake following her. At this time, the chorus in the church stopped, a huge golden cross and a row of candles flickered in the shadows, and the sound of guns and halberds of church guards in mottled costumes could be heard.A moment later, a long procession of priests in tunics and deacons in veils, singing hymns, marched solemnly towards the prisoner, forming a procession before her and the crowd.But her eyes rested on the leading priest, who was immediately behind the man with the crucifix.She shivered involuntarily, and whispered, "Oh! It's him again!The priest! " He really was the archdeacon.On his left is the deputy cantor, and on his right is the cantor with his baton.The archdeacon walked forward, with his head thrown back, his eyes wide open and fixed, and sang: "I cry out from the depths of the earth, and you hear my voice." "The abyss you cast me into is the depths of the sea. The waters surround me." ① ① See the second chapter of the Old Testament Book of Jonah.Originally in Latin. The Archdeacon appeared in the sunlight outside the large pointed arched porch in his cassock with a black cross embroidered on the breast.At this moment, his face was so pale that more than one person in the crowd thought he was one of the marble bishops who had knelt on the choir stone and rose to meet the dying woman at the door of the tomb and take her to the underworld. . As for her, her complexion was pale, like a stone statue.Someone had put a large, lighted yellow candle in her hand, and she barely noticed it.She did not listen to the clerk's screech of the damned confession.When someone asks her to answer "Amen", she answers "Amen".She regained some vitality and strength when she saw the priest, beckoning the watchman to go away, and coming towards her alone. Then, she felt the blood churning in her head, and the little bit of righteous anger left in her numb and cold soul was rekindled. The archdeacon walked slowly up to her.In her desperate situation, she still found that his eyes were shining with lust, jealousy and longing, scanning her naked body.Then he asked aloud: "Girl, do you ask God to forgive your mistakes and mistakes?" He leaned into her ear and added (the onlookers thought he was listening to her final confession): "You need me Can I still save you!" She stared at him and said, "Go away, devil! Otherwise, I'll denounce you." He smiled viciously, "No one will believe you, you will only add a crime of defamation to the crime! Answer quickly! Do you want me?" "What have you done to my Phoebus?" "He's dead," said the priest. Just at this moment, the unfortunate archdeacon raised his head mechanically, and saw the captain standing beside the lilies on the balcony of the Gondlaurier house at the other end of the square.The archdeacon wobbled, put his hand on his forehead, and looked a little longer, Cursing in a low voice, his entire face twitched violently. "That's good! You die," he said through gritted teeth, "no one will ever get you." So, putting his hand on the Egyptian girl's head, he said in a sad voice: "Go now, sinful soul, may God have mercy on you!" ① This is the terrible idiom that people usually use to end this miserable ceremony. It is the secret word that the priest gave to the executioner. The people all knelt down. "Lord, please forgive me." ② said the priests, still standing under the pointed arches of the gate. "Lord, please forgive me." ③ The crowd read along, and the humming passed over their heads like the lapping of raging waves. "Amen," said the Archdeacon. Turning his back to the prisoner, with his head drooping on his chest and his hands clasped, he stepped into the line of priests, and after a while disappeared under the dark vaults of the church, together with the cross, the candle, and the cloak.His loud voice is drowned in the chorus of this desperate line: "Your waves and torrents are all over me!" ④ At this moment, the intermittent impact of the iron handle of the spear in the hands of the church guards gradually weakened between the colonnades of the church, like a hammer, sounding the death knell of the female prisoner. ①②The original text is Latin. ③④ See Chapter 2 of The Old Testament Book of Jonah.Originally in Latin. At this time, every gate of Notre Dame was still open, and it could be seen that the church was empty and gloomy, with no candles and no sound. The female prisoner remained where she was, motionless, awaiting disposal.A policeman with a stick was obliged to run to inform Monsieur Charmolue, who had been studying the relief on the gate all this time, which some said represented the sacrifice of Abraham, and others that it represented alchemy. The angel represents the sun, the fagot represents the fire, and Abraham represents the experimenter. It took a lot of effort to pull him out of his gazing and contemplation, and finally he turned around and gestured to the two men in yellow, and the executioner's slaves immediately approached the Egyptian girl, and put her hands together. Bundle up again. The unfortunate girl boarded the prison car again, and when she was walking towards the end of her life, she must still feel a bit of nostalgia for life and feel heartbreaking sadness. She raised her red and dry eyes to the sky, looked at The sun, looking at the white clouds that cut the sky into squares and triangles, and then she lowered her head, looking at the earth, the crowd, the houses... When the man in yellow came to tie her hands, she suddenly let out a terrible cry A cry, a cry of joy.There she was, on that balcony, she caught a glimpse of him, her friend, her master, Phoebus, another shadow of her life!The judge lied!The priest lied!It was he, she had no doubts, there he was, handsome and radiant, in his bright military uniform, with feathers on his head and sword at his side! "Phoebus!" she cried, "my Phoebus!" She tried to reach out to him her arms trembling with love and ecstasy, but they were bound. At this time, she saw the captain frowned, and a beautiful young girl leaned on him, her lips moved contemptuously, and looked at him angrily.Seeing Phoebus say something she couldn't hear from a distance, the two of them slipped quickly behind the glass window door of the balcony, which was immediately closed. "Phoebus!" she cried frantically, "do you believe it too?" A strange thought flashed through her mind, and she remembered that she had been condemned to die for the murder of Phoebus de Châtopelle. She had been holding on with all her strength until then, but this final blow was too strong.She suddenly collapsed on the road, motionless. "Quick," said Charmolue. "Put her in the car and finish it at once!" No one had yet noticed that above the pointed vaults of the porch, between the colonnades carved with statues of successive kings, a strange spectator kept silently watching.He had a long neck and was so ugly that if he hadn't been dressed in a strange half-red and half-purple dress, he would have been regarded as one of the stone monsters. For six hundred years, the long gutters of the church have been passed through mouth flowed down.This bystander had been at the gates of Notre-Dame since noon and had seen everything that happened.From the first, while no one was looking, he fastened a thick knotted rope to one of the pillars of the colonnade, and dragged it down to the stone steps.After tying it up, he watched calmly. From time to time, a crow flew past him and even whistled.At the moment when the two servants of the executioner decided to carry out Charmolue's cruel orders, he stepped over the balustrade of the gallery, grasping the rope on hands, knees and knees, and saw him like a drop of rain running down a window-pane. , slid down from the front wall all at once, ran quickly to the two slaves, swung two big fists, knocked them down one by one with each hand, lifted the Egyptian girl with one hand, like a child lifting his doll, He strode up to the church with one stride, lifted the girl over his head, and shouted in a horrifying tone: "Holy place!" All this happened so quickly, like a bolt of lightning piercing the night, everything was clearly visible. "Holy place! Holy place!" repeated the crowd, as thousands of hands clapped, and Quasimodo's one eye shone with joy and pride. This shock brought the prisoner back to life.She raised her eyes, looked at Quasimodo, and then closed them suddenly, as if frightened by her rescuer. Charmolue was stunned for a moment, the executioner and all the attendants were stunned.Indeed, within the walls of Notre-Dame, prisoners were inviolable.A church is a sanctuary.The whole system of human justice is not allowed to cross the threshold of the church. Quasimodo stopped under the porch.His large feet stood on the stone floor of the church, which seemed more solid than the heavy Romanesque columns.His big, disheveled head was buried deep between his shoulders, as if buried between the shoulders of a male lion with only a mane and no neck.His big calloused hands held the girl who was still in shock, as if he was holding a white rope; he held her so carefully, as if he was afraid of breaking her or wilting her like a flower.It seemed to him that it was a delicate, graceful, precious treasure, made for other hands than his.From time to time, he seemed too afraid to touch her, or even breathe into her.Then, suddenly, he held her tightly in his arms, close to his breast, as if it was his wealth, his treasure; as if he were the child's mother, his one eye lowered down, looking at her, She poured tenderness, pain, and pity onto her face, and then raised her head suddenly, her eyes filled with light.At this moment the women laughed and cried, and the people stamped their feet with excitement, for at this moment Quasimodo really showed his beauty.He is beautiful, he, this orphan, this picked-up child, this abandoned man, he feels powerful, he dares to despise the society that drove him out, and he intervenes so forcefully, despises This human judiciary, which dares to take its victims from it, despises all the wolves and leopards, compels them to chew their mouths, despises the guards, the judges, the executioners, and the whole power of the king, all by his vile smashed to pieces by the power of God. Moreover, it is really touching that such an ugly person should protect such an unfortunate person, that Quasimodo should save a condemned prisoner. This is where two extremely miserable people in nature and human society come into contact with each other and help each other. However, a few minutes after the victory, Quasimodo suddenly entered the church with the man he had saved.The people, always admiring all deeds, stared wide-eyed at the gloomy church for him, and regretted that he had gone so soon amidst their cheers.Suddenly, he was seen reappearing at one end of the colonnade of the Kings of France.He ran like a frenzy through the colonnade, holding up his prize and shouting: "Holy Land!" Again the crowd burst into applause.After running the entire colonnade, he got into the church again.After a while, it reappeared on the upper platform.He kept the Egyptian girl in his arms, and ran wildly, shouting, "Holy Land!" and the crowd cheered again.Finally, he appears for the third time on the top of the clock tower, where he seems to proudly show off the rescued girl to the whole town.His loud voice repeated frantically three times: "Holy place! Holy place! Holy place!" 这声音，人们很少听见，他自己从未听见，响彻云霄。“妙极了！妙极了！”站在他一边的民众喊道。这巨大的欢呼声传至河对岸，震撼着河滩广场上的人群和那个眼盯着绞刑架，一直等着看热闹的隐修女。