Nevertheless, there was one human creature whom Quasimodo excepted from his malice and from his hatred for others, and whom he loved even more, perhaps, than his cathedral: —
this was Claude Frollo.
The matter was simple; Claude Frollo had taken him in, had adopted him, had nourished him, had reared him. —
When a little lad, it was between Claude Frollo’s legs that he was accustomed to seek refuge, when the dogs and the children barked after him. —
Claude Frollo had taught him to talk, to read, to write. —
Claude Frollo had finally made him the bellringer. —
Now, to give the big bell in marriage to Quasimodo was to give Juliet to Romeo.
Hence Quasimodo’s gratitude was profound, passionate, boundless; —
and although the visage of his adopted father was often clouded or severe, although his speech was habitually curt, harsh, imperious, that gratitude never wavered for a single moment. —
The archdeacon had in Quasimodo the most submissive slave, the most docile lackey, the most vigilant of dogs. —
When the poor bellringer became deaf, there had been established between him and Claude Frollo, a language of signs, mysterious and understood by themselves alone. —
In this manner the archdeacon was the sole human being with whom Quasimodo had preserved communication. —
He was in sympathy with but two things in this world: —
Notre- Dame and Claude Frollo.
There is nothing which can be compared with the empire of the archdeacon over the bellringer; —
with the attachment of the bellringer for the archdeacon. —
A sign from Claude and the idea of giving him pleasure would have sufficed to make Quasimodo hurl himself headlong from the summit of Notre- Dame. It was a remarkable thing–all that physical strength which had reached in Quasimodo such an extraordinary development, and which was placed by him blindly at the disposition of another. —
There was in it, no doubt, filial devotion, domestic attachment; —
there was also the fascination of one spirit by another spirit. —
It was a poor, awkward, and clumsy organization, which stood with lowered head and supplicating eyes before a lofty and profound, a powerful and superior intellect. —
Lastly, and above all, it was gratitude. —
Gratitude so pushed to its extremest limit, that we do not know to what to compare it. —
This virtue is not one of those of which the finest examples are to be met with among men. —
We will say then, that Quasimodo loved the archdeacon as never a dog, never a horse, never an elephant loved his master.