The Dramas of Victor Hugo: Mary Tudor, Marion de Lorme, Esmeralda Part 105

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The Dramas of Victor Hugo: Mary Tudor, Marion de Lorme, Esmeralda



The Dramas of Victor Hugo: Mary Tudor, Marion de Lorme, Esmeralda Part 105


Tis a rapture supreme, Whatever one thinks, To drink to ones love, And to love what one drinks!


PHOEBUS.


Friends, the prettiest of all, A grace divine, Oh, wonder, ecstasy!


Friends, she is mine!


CLAUDE FROLLO (_aside_).


I bind myself to h.e.l.l; Misfortune on you dwell!


PHOEBUS.


Pleasure awaits us; Exhaust without remorse The better part of life, Loves precious intercourse!


What matter if one dies, When joy has pa.s.sed away, Id give a century for an hour, Eternity for a day.


[_The curfew rings; the friends of Phoebus arise from the table, replace their swords, their caps, their cloaks, and prepare to depart._


CHORUS.


Phoebus, the hour is come; It is the curfew-bell: Hurry to your beloved; G.o.ds blessing on you dwell!


PHOEBUS.


At last the hour is come; It is the curfew-bell.


I go to my beloved; G.o.ds blessing on her dwell!


[_The friends of Phoebus go out._


SCENE II


_Claude Frollo, Phoebus. Claude Frollo stops Phoebus as he is about to go out_


CLAUDE FROLLO.


Captain!


PHOEBUS.


Who is this man?


CLAUDE FROLLO.


Listen to me?


PHOEBUS.


Make haste!


CLAUDE FROLLO.


Do you know the name of the one Who awaits you at the meeting to-night?


PHOEBUS.


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!


PHOEBUS.


Friend! First, you are an idiot; Second, go to the devil!


CLAUDE FROLLO.


Listen!


PHOEBUS.


What do I care?


CLAUDE FROLLO.


Phoebus, if you cross the threshold of that door--


PHOEBUS.


You are mad!


CLAUDE FROLLO.


You are dead!


Tremble! One of the gypsies she!


No law protects those awful places.


There loves a masquerade for hate, Death lies concealed in their embraces.


PHOEBUS (_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.







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