MORE ABOUT CLAUDE FROLLO.
In 1482, Quasimodo was about twenty years of age; Claude Frollo, about thirty-six. One had up, the other had old.
Claude Frollo was no longer the of the college of Torchi, the protector of a little child, the and who many and was of many. He was a priest, austere, grave, morose; one with souls; the of Josas, the bishop’s second acolyte, having of the two of Montlhéry, and Châteaufort, and one hundred and seventy-four country curacies. He was an and personage, the boys in and in jacket trembled, as well as the machicots[25], and the of Saint-Augustine and the of Notre-Dame, when he passed slowly the of the choir, majestic, thoughtful, with arms and his so upon his that all one saw of his was his large, brow.
Dom Claude Frollo had, however, neither science the education of his brother, those two of his life. But as time on, some had been with these which were so sweet. In the long run, says Paul Diacre, the best rancid. Little Jehan Frollo, (du Moulin) “of the Mill” of the place where he had been reared, had not up in the direction which Claude would have liked to upon him. The big upon a pious, docile, learned, and pupil. But the little brother, like those trees which the gardener’s and turn to the they sun and air, the little did not and did not multiply, but only put and on the of laziness, ignorance, and debauchery. He was a regular devil, and a very one, who Dom Claude scowl; but very and very subtle, which the big smile.
Claude had him to that same college of Torchi where he had passed his early years in study and meditation; and it was a to him that this sanctuary, by the name of Frollo, should to-day be by it. He sometimes Jehan very long and sermons, which the endured. After all, the had a good heart, as can be in all comedies. But the over, he none the less his of and enormities. Now it was a béjaune or yellow (as they called the new at the university), he had been by way of welcome; a which has been to our own day. Again, he had set in movement a of scholars, who had themselves upon a wine-shop in fashion, excitati, had then the tavern-keeper “with cudgels,” and the tavern, to in the of in the cellar. And then it was a report in Latin, which the sub-monitor of Torchi to Dom Claude with this comment,—Rixa; potatum. Finally, it was said, a thing in a boy of sixteen, that his often as as the Rue de Glatigny.
Claude, and in his affections, by all this, had himself into the arms of learning, that sister which, at least not laugh in your face, and which always pays you, though in money that is sometimes a little hollow, for the attention which you have paid to her. Hence, he more and more learned, and, at the same time, as a natural consequence, more and more as a priest, more and more sad as a man. There are for each of us our intelligence, our habits, and our character, which without a break, and only in the great of life.
As Claude Frollo had passed through nearly the entire circle of learning—positive, exterior, and permissible—since his youth, he was obliged, unless he came to a halt, orbis, to and other for the activity of his intelligence. The symbol of the its is, above all, to science. It would appear that Claude Frollo had this. Many that, after having the of learning, he had to into the nefas. He had, they said, in all the of the tree of knowledge, and, from or disgust, had ended by the fruit. He had taken his place by turns, as the reader has seen, in the of the in Sorbonne,—in the of the doctors of art, after the manner of Saint-Hilaire,—in the of the decretalists, after the manner of Saint-Martin,—in the of physicians at the water of Notre-Dame, ad Nostræ-Dominæ. All the permitted and approved, which those four great called the four and to the understanding, he had devoured, and had been with them his was appeased. Then he had further, lower, all that finished, material, limited knowledge; he had, perhaps, his soul, and had seated himself in the at that table of the alchemists, of the astrologers, of the hermetics, of which Averroès, Guillaume de Paris, and Nicolas Flamel the end in the Middle Ages; and which in the East, by the light of the seven-branched candlestick, to Solomon, Pythagoras, and Zoroaster.
That is, at least, what was supposed, or not. It is that the often visited the of the Saints-Innocents, where, it is true, his father and mother had been buried, with other of the of 1466; but that he appeared less the of their than the with which the of Nicolas Flamel and Claude Pernelle, just it, was loaded.
It is that he had been to pass along the Rue Lombards, and enter a little house which the of the Rue Ecrivans and the Rue Marivault. It was the house which Nicolas Flamel had built, where he had died about 1417, and which, since that time, had already to in ruins,—so had the and the of all away the walls, by their names upon them. Some neighbors that they had once seen, through an air-hole, Archdeacon Claude excavating, over, up the earth in the two cellars, supports had been with and by Nicolas Flamel himself. It was that Flamel had the philosopher’s in the cellar; and the alchemists, for the space of two centuries, from Magistri to Father Pacifique, to worry the until the house, so and over, ended by into their feet.
Again, it is that the had been with a for the door of Notre-Dame, that page of a book in stone, by Bishop Guillaume de Paris, who has, no doubt, been for having so a to the by the of the edifice. Archdeacon Claude had the also of having the of the of Saint Christopher, and of that lofty, which then at the entrance of the vestibule, and which the people, in derision, called “Monsieur Legris.” But, what every one might have noticed was the hours which he often employed, seated upon the of the area in of the church, in the of the front; now the with their reversed, now the wise with their upright; again, calculating the of of that which to the left front, and which is looking at a point the church, where is the philosopher’s stone, if it be not in the of Nicolas Flamel.
It was, let us in passing, a for the Church of Notre-Dame at that to be so beloved, in two different degrees, and with so much devotion, by two beings so as Claude and Quasimodo. Beloved by one, a of and half-man, for its beauty, for its stature, for the which from its ensemble; by the other, a learned and imagination, for its myth, for the which it contains, for the the of its front,—like the text the second in a palimpsest,—in a word, for the which it is to the understanding.
Furthermore, it is that the had himself in that one of the two towers which looks upon the Grève, just the for the bells, a very little cell, into which no one, not the bishop, entered without his leave, it was said. This had been almost at the of the tower, among the ravens’ nests, by Bishop Hugo de Besançon[26] who had there in his day. What that contained, no one knew; but from the of the Terrain, at night, there was often to appear, disappear, and at and regular intervals, at a little window opening upon the of the tower, a red, intermittent, light which to the of a bellows, and to from a flame, than from a light. In the darkness, at that height, it produced a effect; and the said: “There’s the blowing! is up yonder!”
There were no great proofs of in that, after all, but there was still to a of fire, and the a reputation. We ought to mention however, that the of Egypt, that and magic, the whitest, the most innocent, had no more enemy, no more the of the of Notre-Dame. Whether this was horror, or the game played by the who shouts, “stop thief!” at all events, it did not prevent the from being by the learned of the chapter, as a who had into the of hell, who was in the of the cabal, the of the sciences. Neither were the people thereby; with any one who any sagacity, Quasimodo passed for the demon; Claude Frollo, for the sorcerer. It was that the was to the for a time, at the end of which he would away the latter’s soul, by way of payment. Thus the archdeacon, in of the of his life, was in odor among all souls; and there was no nose so that it not him out to be a magician.
And if, as he older, had in his science, they had also in his heart. That at least, is what one had for on that upon which the was only to through a cloud. Whence that large, brow? that bent? that always with sighs? What his mouth to with so much bitterness, at the same moment that his approached each other like two on the point of fighting? Why was what he had left already gray? What was that fire which sometimes in his glance, to such a that his a in the of a furnace?
These of a preoccupation, had an high of at the when this takes place. More than once a choir-boy had in terror at him alone in the church, so and was his look. More than once, in the choir, at the hour of the offices, his neighbor in the had him with the plain song, ad tonum, parentheses. More than once the of the Terrain “with the chapter” had observed, not without affright, the marks of and on the of the of Josas.
However, he his severity, and had been more exemplary. By as well as by character, he had always himself from women; he to them more than ever. The of a his to over his eyes. Upon this score he was so of and reserve, that when the Dame de Beaujeu, the king’s daughter, came to visit the of Notre-Dame, in the month of December, 1481, he her entrance, the of the of the Black Book, from the of Saint-Barthélemy, 1334, which to the to “any woman whatever, old or young, or maid.” Upon which the had been to to him the of Legate Odo, which great dames, aliquæ magnates mulieres, quæ possunt. And again the had protested, that the of the legate, which to 1207, was by a hundred and twenty-seven years to the Black Book, and was in by it. And he had to appear the princess.
It was also noticed that his for Bohemian and had to for some time past. He had the for an which the Bohemian to come and and their on the place of the Parvis; and for about the same length of time, he had been the of the officialty, in order to the cases of and to fire or the rope, for in with rams, sows, or goats.
