Part 107 (1/2)

Your lips are flatterers; Youof you, don't come so near

CLAUDE FROLLO

They love each other How I envy them!

ESMERALDA

My Phoebus! I owe my life to you

PHOEBUS

And I--I owe ood tomaid, Who much afraid Trembles at your feet!

PHOEBUS

Oh, n of beauty, Whose bright eyes shi+ne With fires divine Of passion and of duty!

CLAUDE FROLLO

I wait for them; I hark to them

How tender she, How handsome he!

How near their doom!

Be joyous he, And happy she, While I prepare their tomb!

PHOEBUS

Nymph or woman, Saint or huht I burn, Such is my love for thee!

ESMERALDA

I as forever, As throbs a lover's lyre!

CLAUDE FROLLO

Woreat, My blade must have its turn

Oh! I admire These souls afire, And these hearts which burn!

PHOEBUS

Be alhite and red, ht lot; Smile sweet at love, which we've awaked, And chastity, which we've forgot