The Hunchback of Notre Dame
1996
Esmeralda: (singing) I ask for nothing, I can get by / But I know so many, less lucky then I / Please help my people, the poor and downtrod / I thought we all were, the children of God / God, help the outcast, children of God.
Laverne: Take it from an old spectator. Life's not a spectator sport. If watchin' is all you're gonna do, then you're gonna watch your life go by without ya.
Frollo: Now, now. L-Listen to me, Quasimodo... Quasimodo: No! You listen! All my life, you have told me that the world is a dark, cruel place. But now I see that the only thing dark and cruel about it is people like you.
Frollo: Look at that disgusting display. Phoebus: Yes, sir!
Clopin: You're very clever to have found our hideaway. Unfortunately, you won't live to tell the tale.
(describing the bells) Clopin: They're beautiful, no? So many colors of sound, so many changing moods. Because, you know, they do not ring all by themselves. Puppet: They don't? Clopin: No, you silly boy. Up there, high, high in the dark bell tower, lives the mysterious bell ringer. Who is this creature? Puppet: Who? Clopin: What is he? Puppet: What? Clopin: How did he come to be there? Puppet: How? Clopin: Hush! Puppet: Ow! Clopin: Clopin will tell you. It is a tale, a tale of a man, and a monster.
Clopin: (singing) Once a year we throw a party here in town / Once a year we turn all Paris upside-down / Every man's a king and every king's a clown / Once again it's Topsy-turvy Day!
Esmeralda: (reading Quasimodo's palm) Hmm. Hmm, mmm, mmm. Well, that's funny. Quasimodo: What? Esmeralda: I don't see any... Quasimodo: Any what? Esmeralda: Monster lines. Not a single one. Esmeralda: (holds out her hand) Now, you look at me. Do you think I'm evil? Quasimodo: No! No-No. Y-You are kind and good and... and... Esmeralda: And a Gypsy. And maybe Frollo's wrong about the both of us.
Clopin: (singing) Now here is a riddle to guess if you can / Sing the bells of Notre Dame / Who is the monster and who is the man
Phoebus: You leave town for a couple of decades and they change everything.
Quasimodo: Is this the Court of Miracles? Phoebus: Offhand, I'd say it's the Court of Ankle-deep Sewage.
Esmeralda: (singing) I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even there / I don't know if you would listen to a Gypsy's prayer / Yes, I know I'm just an outcast, I shouldn't speak to you / Still, I see your face and wonder, were you once an outcast, too?
Phoebus: You fight almost as well as a man. Esmeralda: Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you.
Quasimodo: If I got caught. Victor: Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
Esmeralda: You speak of justice, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help.
Hugo: Hey isn't that, uh, Feeble? Laverne: Doofus. Quasimodo: Phoebus!
(after the night with the visions) Phoebus: Good morning, sir. Are you feeling all right? Frollo: I had a little trouble with the fireplace.
Clopin: (singing) Now that we've seen all the evidence... Puppet: Wait! I object. Clopin: Overruled! Puppet: I object! Clopin: Quiet! Puppet: Dang. Clopin: (singing) We find you totally innocent, which is the worst crime of all. Gypsies: So you're going to hang!
Phoebus: Esmeralda? Esmeralda: Shh. Shh. Shh. You'll hide here until you're strong enough to move. (Esmeralda pulls out a flask) Phoebus: Great. I could use a drink. (Esmeralda pours it on his wound, and Phoebus cries out in pain) Phoebus: Yes! Hmmm. Feels like a 1470 Burgundy. Not a good year.
Esmeralda: Maybe Frollo's wrong about the both of us. (the gargoyles are eavesdropping) Hugo: What did she say? Laverne: Frollo's nose is long, and he wears a truss. Hugo: Ha! Told ya. Pay up.
Laverne: (to the pigeons) Don't you ever migrate?
The Old Heretic: I'm free! I'm free! The Old Heretic: (trips and falls into a pillory) Dang it!
Laverne: (to Quasimodo) We always said you were the cute one. Hugo: I thought I was the cute one! Laverne: No, you're the fat, stupid one with the big mouth! Hugo: What are you saying, exactly?
Frollo: Shall we review your alphabet today? Quasimodo: Oh, yes, Master. I would like that very much. Frollo: Very well. A? Quasimodo: Abomination. Frollo: B? Quasimodo: Blasphemy? Frollo: C? Quasimodo: C-C-Contrition. Frollo: D? Quasimodo: Damnation? Frollo: E? Quasimodo: Eternal damnation. Frollo: Good. F? Quasimodo: Festival. Frollo: (nearly chokes) Excuse me? Quasimodo: F-F-Forgiveness.
Frollo: And look what else I've caught in my net. Captain Phoebus, back from the dead. Another "miracle", no doubt. I shall remedy that.
Phoebus: Speaking of trouble, we should have run into some by now. Quasimodo: What do you mean? Phoebus: You know, a guard, a booby trap... (his torchlight promptly goes out, leaving them in darkness) Phoebus: ... or an ambush.
Phoebus: Citizens of Paris! Frollo has persecuted our people, ransacked our city. And now he has declared war on Notre Dame herself! Will we allow it?
Frollo: Protect me, Maria / Don't let the siren cast her spell / Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone / Destroy Esmeralda / And let her taste the fires of hell / Or else let her be mine and mine alone.
Hugo: Give her some slack, then reel her in. Then give her some slack... Laverne: Knock it off, Hugo. She's a girl, not a mackerel.
Frollo: The sentence for insubordination is death. Such a pity. You threw away a promising career. Phoebus: Consider it my highest honor, sir.
Phoebus: Why is it, whenever we meet, I end up bleeding? Esmeralda: You're lucky. That arrow almost pierced your heart. Phoebus: (holding her hand to his heart) I'm not so sure it didn't.
Frollo: Quasimodo, can't you understand? When your heartless mother abandoned you as a child, anyone else would have drowned you. And this my thanks for taking you in and raising you as my son?
Frollo: (picks up one of Quasimodo's wooden figures) Isn't this one new? It's awfully good. Looks very much like the Gypsy girl. I know, you let her escape! Quasimodo: But I... Frollo: And now all Paris is burning because of you! Quasimodo: She was kind to me, Master. Frollo: You idiot! That wasn't kindness! It was cunning! She's a Gypsy! Gypsies are not capable of real love! Think, boy! Think of your mother!
Hugo: Hey, Quasi, what's goin' on out there? A fight? A flogging? Victor: A festival. Hugo: You mean the Feast of Fools? All right, all right! Pour the wine and cut the cheese. Victor: It is a treat to watch the colorful pageantry of the simple peasant folk. Hugo: Boy, nothin' like balcony seats for watching the ol' F.O.F. Quasimodo: Yeah, watchin'. (Quasimodo leaves dissapointed) Hugo: Oh, look. A mime. (Hugo prepares to spit on the mime, Victor stops him)
Frollo: The Gypsies live outside the normal order. Their heathen ways inflame the people's lowest instincts. And they must be stopped. Phoebus: I was summoned from the wars to capture fortune-tellers and palm readers? Frollo: Eh, the real war, Captain, is what you see before you. For 20 years I have been taking care of the Gypsies, Frollo: (squashes ants in the ledge) ... one by one. And yet, for all my success, Frollo: (lifts block to expose a swarm of bugs) ... they have thrived. I believe they have a safe haven within the walls of this very city. A nest, if you will. They call it the Court of Miracles. Phoebus: What are we going to do about it, sir? (Frollo smashes the block over the bugs) Phoebus: You make your point quite vividly, sir.
Clopin: And Frollo gave the child a cruel name, a name that means "half-formed". Quasimodo.
(after the pigeon fledgling leaves the nest, Hugo comes alive and spits out the nest in his mouth) Hugo: Man! I thought he'd never leave. I'll be spitting feathers for a week. Victor: Well, that's what you get for sleeping with your mouth open. Hugo: Ha-ha-ha. Go scare a nun.
Frollo: Dear boy, whomever are you talking to? Quasimodo: My... friends. Frollo: I see. Frollo: (taps the head of one of the gargoyles) And what are your friends made of, Quasimodo? Quasimodo: Stone. Frollo: Can stone talk? Quasimodo: No, it can't. Frollo: That's right. You're a smart lad.
Frollo: This is an unholy demon. I'm sending it back to hell, where it belongs. The Archdeacon: (singing) See, there, the innocent blood you have spilt / On the steps of Notre Dame. Frollo: I am guiltless. She ran. I pursued. The Archdeacon: Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt / On the steps of Notre Dame. Frollo: My conscience is clear. The Archdeacon: You can lie to yourself and your minions / You can claim that you haven't a qualm / But you never can run from / Nor hide what you've done from the eyes / The very eyes of Notre Dame.
Phoebus: (holding up Esmerelda's Map) Good, good good. Ahhhh, great... what is it?