If a beauty Of cold mien Be unwilling, 'Tis sometimes seen, He jokes with her With merry winks, Then he sings, Then he drinks! The day goes by. Or drunk or not, He soon embraces His Toinotte; Then ferocious He goes to bed In a cannon's mouth, And sleeps like lead! And his soul, Which often seems To mix up women With his dreams, Is contented if the wind, With its come and go, Rocks the canvas of his tent Gently to and fro! CHORUS. Be propitious and well inclined, Our Lady of Saint Lo! To him who only water hates Of all things here below. [_Enter Claude Frollo, who seats himself at a table at some distance from Phoebus, and appears at first to observe nothing that passes around him._ VISCOUNT DE GIF (_to Phoebus_). That pretty gypsy, What are you doing with her? [_Claude Frollo makes a movement of attention._ PHOEBUS. To-night, in an hour, I have a meeting with her. ALL. Truly? PHOEBUS. Truly! [_The agitation of Claude Frollo increases._ VISCOUNT DE GIF. In one hour? PHOEBUS. In one moment! Oh, love! supremest rapture! To feel one heart holds two! To own the woman that one loves-- Be slave and conqueror too! To have her soul; to have her charms, Her song which fills with bliss; To see her sweet eyes wet with tears, To dry them with a kiss. [_While he sings, the others drink and strike their glasses._ CHORUS. 'Tis a rapture supreme, Whatever one thinks, To drink to one's 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 hell; Misfortune on you dwell! PHOEBUS. Pleasure awaits us; Exhaust without remorse The better part of life, Love's precious intercourse! What matter if one dies, When joy has passed away, I'd 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; God's blessing on you dwell! PHOEBUS. At last the hour is come; It is the curfew-bell. I go to my beloved; God's 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.