THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME

Frollo:        A monster!

(He looks around, searching for a way to dispose of the creature.  He
sees a well, and rides over to it. He is about to drop the baby down the
well when a voice (a lightning flash between Clopin and the Archdeacon)
shouts out.)

Archdeacon:    Stop!

Clopin:        Cried the archdeacon.

Frollo:        This is an unholy demon.  I'm sending it back to hell,
               where it belongs!

Archdeacon:    SEE THERE THE INNOCENT BLOOD YOU HAVE SPILT
               ON THE STEPS OF NOTRE DAME.

Frollo:        I am guiltless--she ran, I pursued.

Archdeacon:    NOW YOU WOULD ADD THIS CHILD'S BLOOD TO YOUR GUILT
               ON THE STEPS OF NOTRE DAME.

Frollo:        My conscience is clear!

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!

Clopin:        AND FOR ONE TIME IN HIS LIFE OF POWER AND CONTROL
               FROLLO FELT A TWINGE OF FEAR FOR HIS IMMORTAL SOUL

Frollo:        What must I do?

Archdeacon:    Care for the child, raise it as your own.

Frollo:        What?  I'm to be saddled with this misshapen--

(He pauses as a thought creeps across his face.)

Frollo:        Very well.  Let him live with you, in your church.

Archdeacon:    Live here?  But where?

Frollo:        Anywhere.

               JUST SO HE'S KEPT LOCKED AWAY WHERE NO ONE ELSE CAN SEE.

               The bell tower, perhaps.  And who knows--our Lord works
               in mysterious ways.

               EVEN THIS FOUL CREATURE MAY YET PROVE ONE DAY TO BE
               OF USE TO ME.

Clopin:        And Frollo gave the child a cruel name.  A name that
               means half-formed... Quasimodo!

               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?
              
               SING THE BELLS, BELLS, BELLS, BELLS,
               BELLS, BELLS, BELLS, BELLS,
               BELLS OF NOTRE DAME!

(We have wiped from watching Clopin's puppet show to the actual bells
ringing in the tower, and the back of this mysterious Quasimodo ringing
them.  As we end on a beautiful shot of the bells ringing, and the word
Dame is sung with the cymbal crash, the title "THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE
DAME" appears on screen.  We fly down to an exterior with the frozen
forms of Victor and Hugo, with a bird's nest in his mouth, on the
balcony.  As Quasimodo comes out, the bird awakens.)

Quasimodo:     Good morning!

(The bird squeaks its approval.)

Quasimodo:     Will today be the day?  Are you ready to fly?

(The bird squeaks its disapproval.)

Quasimodo:     You sure?  Good day to try. Why, if I picked a day to
               fly, oh, this would be it!  The Festival of Fools!  It
               will be fun--the jugglers, and music, and dancing...

(The bird, who had been resting in Quasi's hand, has begun to flap its
wings.  Quasi slowly removes his hands until the bird is hovering in
place.  He chuckles and shows his hands to the bird, who finally
realises that it is flying.  It squeaks an approval, then a question, as
a flock of birds fly by.)

Quasimodo:     Go on! Nobody wants to be cooped up here forever!

(The bird flies off to join the flock.  As soon as it's gone, Hugo, and
later, Victor, come to life.  Hugo spits out the nest.)

Hugo:          Oh, man!  I thought he'd never leave!  I'll be spittin'
               feathers for a week!

Victor:        Well that's what you get for sleeping with your mouth
               open.

Hugo:          (Sarcastic chuckle) Heh, heh, heh...go scare a nun!
               Hey, Quasi! What's goin' on out there?  A fight?  A
               flogging?

Victor:        A festival!

Hugo:          You mean the Feast of Fools!?!

Quasimodo:     Uh huh!

Hugo:          All right, all right!  Pour the wine and cut the cheese!

(Hugo makes farting noises in his armpit.)

Victor:        It is a treat to watch the colourful pageantry of the
               simple peasantfolk.

Hugo:          Boy, nothin' like balcony seats for watching the ol'
               F.O.F.

Quasimodo:     (Dejected) Yeah, watching. 

(Quasi turns and leaves, obviously sad.)

Hugo:          Hey, look--a mime. 

(Hugo hocks up a phlegm in his throat, and is about to spit, when Victor
covers his mouth.  Hugo is forced to swallow his prize.  They proceed
inside to Quasimodo.  Laverne catches up to them.)

Hugo:          Hey, hey, what gives?

Victor:        Aren't you going to watch the festival with us?

Hugo:          I don't get it.

Victor:        Perhaps he's sick!

Laverne:       Impossible.  If 20 years of listening to you two hasn't
               made him sick by now, nothing will.

Victor:        But watching the Festival of Fools has always been the
               highlight of the year for Quasimodo.

Laverne:       What good is watching the party if you never get to go
               hear it?  (Birds have begun to roost on Laverne.  She
               waves them away.)  Get away from me, go on, you bunch of
               buzzards!  He's not made of stone, like us.

(Laverne goes to Quasi, who is at his table with a model of the city and
small toys painted like townspeople.)

Laverne:       Quasi, what's wrong?  You wanna tell ol' Laverne all
               about it? 

Quasimodo:     I...I just don't feel like watching the festival, that's
               all.

Laverne:       Well, did you ever think about going there instead?

Victor:        Sure! 

Quasimodo:     I'd never fit in down there. I'm not...normal. 

Laverne:       Oh, Quasi, Quasi, Quasi.  (She pauses as the birds have
               returned to perch on her again.) (To birds:) Do you mind? 
               I would like to have a moment with the boy, if it's
               all right with you!

Hugo:          (To Quasi:) Hey, quit beating around the bell tower.
               Whadda we gotta do?  Paint you a fresco?

Victor:        As your friends and guardians, we insist you attend the
               festival.

Quasimodo:     Me?!?

(Enter Hugo, with a figurine of a Pope, from Quasi's tabletop scene.)

Hugo:          No, the Pope. Of course, you!

(Victor shoves the Pope figurine in Quasi's mouth.)