Yet，if with advancing years deep fissures had opened in his mind，in his heart they were no less deep.So，at least，they had reason to think who narrowly scanned that face in which the soul shone forth as through a murky cloud.Else why that bald and furrowed brow，that constantly bowed head，those sighs that forever rent his breast？What secret thought sent that bitter smile to his lips at the selfsame moment that his frowning brows approached each other like two bulls about to fight？Why were his remaining hairs already gray？Whence came that inward fire that blazed at times in his eyes，till they looked like holes pierced in the wall of a furnace？
These symptoms of violent moral preoccupation had developed to an extraordinary degree of intensity at the period of our narrative.More than once had a chorister boy fled in terror when coming upon him suddenly in the Cathedral，so strange and piercing was his gaze.More than once，at the hour of service，had the occupant of the next stall in the choir heard him interspersing the plain song，ad omnem tonum，with unintelligible parentheses.More than once had the laundress of the terrain，whose duty it was to'wash the Chapter，'noticed with alarm the marks of finger-nails and clinched hands in the surplice of Monsieur the Archdeacon of Josas.
However，he grew doubly austere，and his life had never been more exemplary.By inclination，as well as by calling，he had always kept severely aloof from women；now he seemed to hate them more virulently than ever.The mere rustle of a silken kirtle was sufficient to make him bring his cowl down over his eyes.So jealous were his reserve and his austerity on this point，that when the King's daughter，the Lady of Beaujeu，came in December，1481，to visit the cloister of Notre-Dame，he earnestly opposed her admittance，reminding the Bishop of the statute in the Black Book，dated Saint-Bartholomew's Eve，1334，forbidding access to the cloister to every woman whatsoever，'young or old，mistress or serving-maid.'Upon which the Bishop had been constrained to quote the ordinance of the legate Odo，which makes exception in favour of'certain ladies of high degree，who might not be turned away without offence'—'aliq agnates mulieres，q ine scandale vitari non possunt.'But the Archdeacon persisted in his protest，objecting that the legate's ordinance，dating from as far back as 1207，was anterior to the Black Book by a hundred and twenty-seven years，and thus practically abrogated by it，and he refused to appear before the princess.
It was，moreover，noticed that，for some time past，his horror of gipsy-women and all Zingari in general had remarkably increased.He had solicited from the Bishop an edict expressly forbidding gipsies to dance or play the tambourine within the Parvis of the Cathedral；and simultaneously he was rummaging among the musty archives of the Holy Office，in order to collect all the cases of necromancers and sorcerers condemned to the flames or the halter for complicity in witchcraft with sows，he，or she-goats.
1 Title attaching to a certain class of the priesthood，equivalent to'The Reverend.'
2 A brawl，the immediate result of too liberal potations.
3 A street of ill-fame.
4 Where the world comes to an end.
5 Hugo II de Bisuncio，1326-1332.—Author's Note.
Chapter 6-Unpopularity
The Archdeacon and the bell-ringer found，as we have said before，but little favour with the people，great or small，in the purlieus of the Cathedral.If Claude and Quasimodo went abroad，as occasionally happened，and they were seen in company—the servant following his master—traversing the chilly，narrow，and gloomy streets in the vicinity of Notre-Dame，many an abusive word，many a mocking laugh or opprobrious gibe would harass them on their passage unless Claude Frollo—though this was rare—walked with head erect and haughty bearing，offering a stern and well-nigh imperial front to the startled gaze of his assailants.
The couple shared in the neighbourhood the fate of those poets of whom Régnier says：
'Toutes sortes de gens vont après les poètes，
Comme après les hiboux vont criant les fauvettes.'
Now some ill-conditioned monkey would risk his skin and bones for the ineffable pleasure of sticking a pin in Quasimodo's hump，or some pretty wench，with more freedom and impudence than was seemly，would brush the priest's black robe，thrusting her face into his，while she sang the naughty song beginning：
'Niche，niche，le diable est pris！'
Anon，a group of squalid old women，crouching in the shade on the steps of a porch，would abuse the Archdeacon and the bell-ringer roundly as they passed，or hurl after them with curses the flattering remark：'There goes one whose soul is like the other one's body！'Or，another time，it would be a band of scholars playing at marbles or hopscotch who would rise in a body and salute them in classical manner，with some Latin greeting such as'Eia！Eia！Claudius cum claudo！'3
But，as a rule，these amenities passed unheeded by either the priest or the bell-ringer.Quasimodo was too deaf，and Claude too immersed in thought to hear them.
1 All sorts of people run after the poets，As after the owls fly screaming the linnets.
2 Hide，hide，the devil is caught！
3 Ho！ho！Claude with the cripple！
