Gigi Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Gigi script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Leslie Caron and Maurice Chevalier musical movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Gigi. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Gigi Script

             Bonjour, monsieur.
            "Bonjour, madame"... and company.
            Good afternoon.
            As you see, this lovely city all around us is Paris.
            And this lovely park is, of course, the Bois de Boulogne.
            Pardon me.
            Who am I?
            Well, allow me to introduce myself.
            I am Honoré Lachaille.
            Born: Paris.
            Date:
            Not lately.
            This is 1900. So let's just say...
            ...not in this century.
            Circumstances:
            Comfortable.
            Profession:
            Lover and collector of beautiful things.
            Not antiques, mind you.
            Younger things.
            Yes, definitely younger.
            Married? What for?
            Now, please don't misunderstand.
            Like everywhere else, most people in Paris get married.
            But not all.
            There are some who will not marry and some who do not marry.
            But here in Paris, those who will not are usually men...
            ...and those who do not are usually women.
            Now, for example, here we find exhibit A:
            The married kind.
             These ladies stood their ground  And won
             And I salute them, every one
             Here are some others to behold
             For whom the bells have never tolled
             Oh, what a poor, defenseless pair
             In those pathetic rags they wear
            And there is the future.
            Someday, each and every one of them...
            ...will either be married...
            ...or unmarried. How adorable they are!
             Each time I see a little girl
             Of   or   or  
             I can't resist the joyous urge
             To smile and say thank heaven
             For little girls
             For little girls  Get bigger every day
             Thank heaven for little girls
             They grow up  In the most delightful way
             Those little eyes  So helpless and appealing
             One day will flash and send you  Crashing through the ceiling
             Thank heaven for little girls
             Thank heaven for them all
             No matter where  No matter who
             Without them  What would little boys do?
             Thank heaven
             Thank heaven
             Thank heaven
             For little girls
            This story is about a little girl.
            It could be any one of those girls playing there. But it isn't.
            It's about one in particular.
            That one. Her name is Gigi.
            Gigi!
            What you have to look forward to!
              Those little eyes  So helpless and appealing
               One day will flash and send you  Crashing through the ceiling
               Thank heaven
               For little girls
               Thank heaven for them all
               No matter where  No matter who
               Without them  What would little boys do?
               Thank heaven
               Thank heaven
               Thank heaven
               For little girls!
              Hello, Grandmama.
              Gigi, where have you been?
              Playing in the park. I had to, Grandmama.
              My foot fell asleep in class. It wouldn't wake up.
              Did you forget what day it is?
              It's Tuesday.
              Aunt Alicia! Well, I'd better run.
              You cannot go to your Aunt Alicia's looking like that.
              Put your coat on. Let me comb your hair.
              Yes, Grandmama.
              I hate this coat. It makes my legs feel so long.
              Yes, your legs are long.
              You know...
              ...sometimes I'm sorry you never learned to dance.
              But I want to, Grandmama. Why don't you let me take lessons?
              No. Not the same mistake twice.
              Your mother took singing lessons, and look where she ended up.
              Slaving away at the Opéra-Comique in ridiculous little roles.
              - She seems happy. - Happy!
              I went to see her one night. I couldn't even find her.
              In the first act...
              ...she was behind a tree.
              In the second act...
              ...behind a tenor.
              Mama's awake. Isn't it early?
              She's on this afternoon.  If I Were King.
              That's more than she does in the whole opera.
              And when I think of that delightful old gentleman...
              ...with all those flour mills.
              Who?
              Nothing.
              You go to school every morning. You see your Aunt Alicia once a week.
              That's all the lessons you need.
              When the time comes, you'll be ready.
              Ready for what, Grandmama?
              Enough. Now run.
              - Goodbye, Grandmama. - Goodbye, Gigi.
              - More powerful, monsieur. Sixty kilometers an hour!
              There's nothing faster on the road, monsieur. Not here or in America.
              Your uncle is here, monsieur.
              Of course, the smaller is a first-rate machine, monsieur.
              Naturally, the larger one is more expensive.
              I'd be happy to demonstrate both.
              I beg your pardon, Monsieur Gaston. Your father wanted me to ask you...
              ...did you, by any chance, buy the Paris-Lyon-Méditerranée Railroad?
              The Paris-Lyon-Méd...? Yes, yes, I did.
              According to this morning's opening at "la Bourse"...
              ...it's gone up    points.
              I thought it would.
              Monsieur Lachaille, about the car.
              Send it over in the morning with the bill.
              Yes, monsieur. Thank you. But which one?
              My dear fellow, I don't care. Either one.
              I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Uncle. Why didn't you come upstairs?
              I was afraid I'd meet my brother and sister-in-law.
              - You would have. - I have to tell you...
              ...your parents bore me to death.
              - Me too. - But I've known them longer...
              ...so they've been boring me longer.
              After you.
              Your father is actually quite unique.
              He was a bore at the age of  .
              All he has to say is, "Hello", and I can barely keep my eyes open.
              Armenonville.
              I waited for you at the embassy last Sunday. What happened?
              The thought of another embassy tea paralyzed me.
              Instead, I had tea with an old friend Madame Alvarez.
              - Madame Alvarez? - Yes, you know her.
              Or knew her once, didn't you?
              - Does she say I did? - I think she's mentioned it.
              Then I suppose I did.
              It's the one place in Paris where I can go and relax.
              Whose luncheon are you taking me to today?
              Henri Trouvére.
              We have to go.
              I'm meeting a heavenly creature there.
              You're still young, Uncle, aren't you?
              Not compared to her.
              But I must say, I am compared to you.
              Maybe it's the women you go with. How old is Liane?
              About   .
              That may be it. Youth is the thing, Gaston.
              Youth! Stay close to the young...
              ...and a little rubs off.
              I'm bored.
              Bored?
               Look at all the captivating  Fascinating things there are to do
               Name two
               Look at all the pleasures
               All the myriad of treasures  We have got
               Like what?
               Look at Paris in the spring  When each solitary thing
               Is more beautiful than ever before
               You can hear every tree  Almost saying, "Look at me!"
              - What color are the trees? - Green!
              - What color were they last year? - Green!
              - And next year? - Green!
               It's a bore
               Don't you marvel at the power  Of the mighty Eiffel Tower
               Knowing there it will remain evermore
               Climbing up to the sky
               Over    stories high
              - How many stories? - Ninety!
              - How many yesterday? - Ninety!
              - And tomorrow? - Ninety!
               It's a bore!
               The river Seine
               All it can do is flow
               But think of wine
               It's red or white
               - But think of girls  - It's either yes or no
               And if it's no or if it's yes  It simply couldn't matter less
               But think of a race
               With your horse in seventh place
               Then he suddenly begins
               And he catches up and wins  With a roar!
               It's a bore!
               Life is thrilling as can be
               Simply not my cup of tea
               It's a gay, romantic fling
               If you like that sort of thing
               - It's intriguing  - It's fatiguing
               It's a game
               It's the same dull world  Wherever you go
               Whatever place you are at
               The Earth is round
               But everything on it is flat
               Don't tell me  Venice has no lure
               Just a town without a sewer
               The Leaning Tower I adore
               Indecision is a bore
               But think of the thrill  Of a bullfight in Seville
               When the bull is uncontrolled
               And he charges at the bold matador!
               It's a bore!
               Think of lunch beneath the trees
               Stop the carriage, if you please
               You mean you don't want to come?
               The thought of lunch leaves me numb
               But I implore
              Oh, no, Uncle.
               It's a bore!
              Goodbye, Honoré.
              Come in.
              - Mamita. - Gaston!
              What a wonderful surprise.
              How do you feel today, dear Mamita?
              Fine, Gaston. And the better for seeing you.
              You've gotten a trifle thinner, and it's most becoming.
              - You think so? - Oh, yes.
              Come and sit down.
              In your chair.
              Thank you.
              What beautiful material.
              Very chic!
              Just the sort of thing Honoré used to wear.
              A bit more conservative, perhaps.
              Would you like a sweet?
              No, thank you. But I would love a cup of your chamomile tea.
              But of course.
              More than just one, I hope.
              Do you have a telephone yet, Mamita?
              No, not yet.
              Not until Gigi is old enough to have secrets and admirers.
              But there's one upstairs if it's important.
              It's not important.
              Gigi's not at home?
              No. This is Tuesday.
              The day she has luncheon with her aunt Alicia.
              How is your sister? I haven't seen her for quite a while.
              I don't wonder.
              She never sets foot out of her apartment or her past.
              And quite a past it was...
              ...so she says.
              According to the stories Honoré tells me...
              ...what she says is quite true.
              Aren't you afraid of her influence on Gigi?
              Not at all.
              She finds Gigi a trifle backward...
              ...which is true...
              ...and she educates her.
              Educates her?
              Last week, she taught her to eat cold lobster...
              ...to perfection.
              What in heaven's name for?
              She says it's extremely useful.
              Marvelous.
              It's so good to be here.
              It's always a pleasure to watch the rich...
              ...enjoying the comforts of the poor.
              Especially you, dear Gaston.
              How does your sister look? Still as young as ever?
              Yes, Alicia is always the same.
              Living in the past must agree with her.
              When I think...
              ...it was in...
              ...    ...
              ...she went off with her first sultan.
              Then came her Duke of Milan...
              ...her King of Spain, her khedive, her maharajah.
              She's remarkable looking...
              Good day, Charles.
              Mademoiselle.
              What are we having for lunch?
              Ortolans.
              Oh, dear! Are they difficult?
              Slowly, Gigi. Slowly.
              The racing season is over.
              Good day, Aunt Alicia.
              Now let's go into luncheon.
              Yes, Aunt Alicia.
              Today you will learn to eat ortolans.
              What are ortolans, Aunt?
              Exquisite little birds.
              Most people attack them like cannibals.
              You must learn to eat them properly.
              Bad table manners...
              ...have broken up more households than infidelity.
              Did you work hard in school today? What did you study?
              History.
              Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo.
              How depressing.
              - What else? - English.
              English? I suppose we must.
              They refuse to learn French.
              Who are your friends?
              Ortolans should be cut in two with a quick stroke of the knife.
              There must be no grating of the blade on the plate.
              Now bite up each piece.
              The bones don't matter.
              Go on eating while you answer my questions.
              But don't talk with your mouth full.
              Well, you can do it. If I can do it, you can.
              What friends have you made?
              None.
              I'm always on my own.
              Why does Grandmama stop me from accepting invitations?
              She's right for once.
              You'd only be invited by ordinary people.
              What about us? Aren't we ordinary people?
              Why are we different?
              They have weak heads and careless bodies.
              Besides, they are married.
              But I don't think you would understand.
              Oh, yes, Aunt, I understand.
              We don't marry, is that it?
              Marriage is not forbidden to us.
              But instead of getting married at once...
              ...it sometimes happens we get married...
              ...at last.
              Enough. We must finish lunch and get on with your lessons.
              Now, go on. Go on, go on!
              Without knowledge of jewelry, my dear Gigi...
              ...a woman is lost.
              Do you remember Madame Dunard, who was here the other day?
              Did you notice that rope of black pearls around her throat?
              Yes! It was beautiful.
              Dipped.
              Dipped. Given to her by the man she loves...
              ...whose love is obviously beginning to cool...
              ...and she doesn't know it.
              It's just a matter of time now.
              Now, let us see what you remember.
              What is this?
              A marquise diamond.
              A marquise-shaped diamond.
              This?
              This is...
              ...a topaz?
              A topaz?
              Among my jewels? Are you mad?
              It's a yellow diamond of the first quality.
              You'll have to go a long way to see one like it.
              - This? - An emerald.
              How beautiful.
              Do you see that blue flame...
              ...darting about in the depths of the green light?
              Only the most beautiful emeralds...
              ...contain that miracle of elusive blue.
              - Who gave it to you, Aunt? - A king.
              - A great king? - No, a little one.
              Great kings do not give very large stones.
              Why not?
              In my opinion, it's because they don't feel they have to.
              Who does give the valuable jewels?
              Who?
              Oh, the shy, the proud.
              And the social climbers. They think it's a sign of culture.
              But it doesn't matter who gives them...
              ...as long as you never wear anything second-rate.
              Wait for the first-class jewels, Gigi.
              Hold on to your ideals.
              Come over here to the light, Gigi.
              Open your mouth.
              With teeth like that...
              ...I could have devoured all Paris and most of Europe.
              But I can't complain. I had a good bite of it.
              Tell your grandmama to get you some astringent lotion.
              You don't use face powder, do you?
              - Grandmama won't let me. - I should hope not.
              You have an impossible nose, a nondescript mouth.
              Your cheekbones are too high.
              But we can do something with the rest of you.
              Your teeth, your eyes...
              ...your eyelashes, your hair.
              We can...
              ...and we will.
              You must learn to choose cigars.
              Aunt, but I don't smoke cigars.
              Of course you don't smoke cigars.
              But a man does.
              Everything I teach you...
              ...has a good reason.
              Love, my dear Gigi...
              ...is a thing of beauty, like a work of art.
              And like a work of art, it is created by artists.
              The greater the artist, the greater the art.
              And what makes an artist?
              Cigars and jewelry?
              You are from another planet.
              Get on with your work.
               A necklace is love
               A ring is love
               A rock from some obnoxious little king  Is love
               A sapphire with a star is love
               An ugly black cigar is love
               Everything you are is love
               You would think it would embarrass  All the people here in Paris
               To be thinking every minute of love
               I don't understand the Parisians
               Making love every time  They get a chance
               I don't understand the Parisians
               Wasting every lovely night on romance
               Anytime
               And under every tree in town
               They're in session two by two
               What a crime
               With all there is to see in town
               They can't find something else to do
               I don't understand how Parisians
               Never tire of walking hand in hand
               But they seem to love it
               And speak highly of it
               I don't understand
               The Parisians!
              I don't understand the Parisians!
               When it's warm
               They take a carriage ride at night
               Close their eyes and hug and kiss
               When it's cold
               They simply move inside at night
               There must be more to life than this
               I don't understand the Parisians
               Thinking love so miraculous and grand
               But they rave about it
               And won't live without it
               I don't understand
               The Parisians!
              Stop.
              What are you doing there?
              Gaston...
              ...do you make love all the time?
              I beg your pardon?
              - Do you make love all the time? - Heavens, no.
              The only people who make love all the time are liars.
              Was that the subject of your lesson today?
              - How did you know I was having a lesson? - I just came from your house.
              Too bad I wasn't there. We could've played cards, and I could've beaten you.
              But you cheat.
              I can, but with you, I don't have to.
              You watch your tongue, my girl.
              - I'm not your girl. - Thank you for that.
              If I have a little girl, I'll see to it she's more respectful than you.
              - Come with me. - Where?
              - To the Ice Palace. - I don't skate.
              - I'll buy you a drink. - I don't drink.
              - A sweet one. - Are you going to skate?
              No, but I'm calling for Madame d'Exelmans.
              Liane? Your lady love?
              No, thank you. I've had enough of that for today.
              I'm not going to woo her on ice.
              Come along before I spank you.
              You wouldn't dare!
              Oh, I wouldn't, eh?
              Sit down.
              Sit down.
              Haven't you ever seen an ice rink?
              Never.
              Grandmama says going out distracts one from more serious matters.
              A "barbotage" for the lady.
              - What's that? - Quiet.
              Champagne for me. Well-iced.
              Yes, Monsieur Lachaille.
              Is that the scandalous Madame d'Exelmans?
              Yes, that's she.
              Tell me, Gigi, the way you express yourself...
              ...does your grandmother ever hear you talk this way?
              She never listens to me much.
              Which reminds me, she mustn't know I was here with you.
              And why not? What's wrong with being with me?
              It isn't you. It's here.
              I told you. This isn't serious matters.
              And just what are serious matters?
              I don't remember it all by heart.
              One mustn't read novels; they depress you.
              Don't wear powder; it ruins the complexion.
              Don't wear corsets; they spoil the figure.
              What do you think of Liane?
              She's pretty.
              Yes, she is.
              But...
              But what?
              Common.
              Common?
              How do you mean "common"? Ordinary common or coarse common?
              Ordinary.
              And coarse. Well, I really must go. Please come soon.
              - Thank you for the drink. - It was a pleasure.
              Hello, my darling.
              You waltz divinely.
              Thank you, my love.
              I'll let you know when I'll be in for my next lesson.
              Yes, madame.
              I thought we'd meet Honoré at Maxim's and...
              Darling.
              At Maxim's?
              Thank you... monsieur.
              Dreadful man.
              You seem to have lessons with him often enough.
              He's an excellent teacher. I made amazing progress.
              But he's so conceited. So superior in an inferior way.
              I can't stand him.
              Shall we go?
              Gaston and Liane are joining me here at Maxim's tonight.
              I'm giving a small party...
              ...in honor of a heavenly creature I met this afternoon.
              She's... Pardon me.
              She's the sister of the heavenly creature...
              ...I gave a party for last night.
              What a marvelous place Maxim's is!
              Not only gay and beautiful, but in one thing unique:
              In Maxim's, everybody minds his own business.
              No one is the slightest bit interested in whom one is with.
               There's that wretched man  Louis de Latour
               With his latest horrible amour
               Isn't she a mess  Isn't she a sight
               Let's invite them out tomorrow night
               Honoré Lachaille  Honoré Lachaille
               With another twinkle in his eye
               Isn't it a shame  Isn't it a crime
               Seeing him so happy all the time
               There's Gaston Lachaille  With his little friend
               Is that passion never going to end
               Did you see her ring?  Not a bagatelle
               Dear Liane is doing very well
               She's a lovable one tonight, isn't she?
               What is she up to?
               She's so gay tonight
               She's like spring tonight
               She's a rollicking  Frolicking thing tonight
               So disarming  Soft and charming
               She is not thinking of me
               No, she's not thinking of me
               In her eyes tonight
               There's a glow tonight
               They're so bright they could light  Fontainebleau tonight
               She's so gracious  So vivacious
               She is not thinking of me
               Bless her little heart
               Crooked to the core
               Acting out a part
               What a rollicking, frolicking bore!
               She's such fun tonight
               She's a treat tonight
               You could spread her on bread  She's so sweet tonight
               So devoted  Sugarcoated
               That it's heartwarming to see
               Oh, she's simmering with love
               Oh, she's shimmering with love
               Oh, she's not thinking of me
               She is not thinking of me
               Someone has set her on fire
               Is it Jacques, is it Paul or Léon?
               Who's turning her furnace up higher?
               Oh, she's hot  But it's not for Gaston!
               Oh, she's gay tonight
               Oh so gay tonight
               A gigantic romantic cliché tonight
               How she blushes  How she gushes
               How she fills me with ennui
               She's so ooh la la la la
               So untrue la la la la
               Oh, she's not thinking of me
              I knew she was up to something.
              I knew it. There had to be a reason for last night.
              But what was I to do?
              Trail after her? Spy on her?
              - Sniff around like a bloodhound? - Of course not.
              Heaven knows, I'm not jealous. Thank you for that.
              Why should I follow her?
              No reason at all. What did you do?
              I hired detectives.
              And the results are nauseating.
              The Riverton Agency just telephoned me that she and her oily acrobat...
              ...arrived a half an hour ago in a cozy little inn at Honfleur.
              Well.
              Without skates.
              Most disagreeable.
              Come, my boy. You're not the first.
              This sort of thing has happened before.
              And to some very good people.
              Alfred de Musset, Victor Hugo, Napoleon.
              Even to me. Isn't that true, Manuel?
              Yes, indeed, sir. Many, many, many times.
              Well, not that many.
              But a skating instructor.
              A skating instructor!
              It is always a skating instructor.
              Or some such specimen.
              - Isn't that true, Manuel? - Absolutely, sir.
              Remember dear little Madame Dumelle...
              ...and Marmaluc the Terrible Turk?
              There you are.
              A wrestler from the Folies Bergére.
              There was Madame Laura and the swimming coach.
              Hurry up, Manuel.
              And Madame d'Albert and the riding master.
              Mademoiselle Monique and the weight lifter...
              ...Madame Bocher and the plumber.
              That's enough, Manuel. You've made your point.
              Here, put this in your mouth.
              One can't be a Don Juan to one's valet, can one?
              I only keep him to prevent him from talking to others.
              Oh, come, Gaston, cheer up.
              Cheer up? I couldn't be in better spirits.
              Good. I'm delighted the deadly affair is over.
              The woman was common. Plainly and unmistakably common...
              ...from her painted toenails to the top of her bleached head.
              I'm glad to be rid of her. What do we do today?
              What do we do?
              We're going to Honfleur, naturally.
              Are you mad? I never want to see her again.
              Of course you don't.
              But you're not going to let a woman have the last word.
              Where is your sense of honor?
              Your male patriotism?
              Nonsense.
              Listen to your uncle, Monsieur Gaston. He's an old campaigner.
              How would you end it?
              I'll write her a note.
              There is no way of writing it without it reeking of wounded pride.
              Victor Hugo couldn't pull it off.
              Then I'll telephone her.
              And what would you say?
              "Liane, you deceived me with a skating instructor."
              "I never want to see you again."
              You'll sound like a jealous schoolboy.
              That's impossible.
              That's true.
              That's true. What do I do?
              You go to Honfleur and throw her out like a man.
              That's a bore.
              A bore? Not at all.
              It's pride.
               Just imagine your chagrin
               When she sees you wander in
               And you find her  With that slippery "seòor"
               What a moment supreme
               When she totters with a scream
              - What will she do? - Scream.
              - What did yours do? - Scream.
              - What do they all do? - Scream.
               It's a bore
               But think of the bliss
               Of the pleasure you would miss
               When she topples in a heap
               And you leave her there to weep  On the floor
               It's a bore
               You must catch her if you can
               For the dignity of man
               Take advantage of the chance
               You owe it, sir, to France  This is war!
               All right
               But it's a bore
              Turn it around and leave it there.
              They are there.
              Terrible-looking rodent, isn't he?
              Terrible, but typical.
              Those chaps all look alike.
              She looks older in the daylight.
              Much older. I don't envy him.
              Neither do I.
              She never kissed me like that.
              - How is she kissing him? - Wholeheartedly.
              What do you expect?
              You're legitimate. He's forbidden fruit.
              When do we make our move?
              Wait, wait.
              Come on.
              Monsieur Lachaille, what a surprise. I am honored.
              Don't be. Come on, get up!
              Wait, wait! You are making a mistake.
              It was just a coincidence, my meeting madame here.
              It was a coincidence, I suppose...
              ...that your lips just happened to meet...
              ...in a long, ardent, passionate...
              You keep out of this.
              I don't want any discussions. For      francs, this never happened.
              You leave the Ice Palace and disappear. Forever.
              - But... - No "buts".
              You're coming with us now.
              We'll take you to the nearest railroad station.
                   francs?
              There is nothing more to be said. Goodbye, madame.
              From the bottom of my heart, goodbye.
              Gaston, my love.
              What happened?
              Liane d'Exelmans has committed suicide. Again!
              I'm sorry, girl. What did you say?
              I didn't know he left her.
              My word!
              Of course.
              Call me as soon as you hear anything. Anything at all.
              How marvelous!
              Paris agog.
              Why didn't you tell me that Gaston and Liane had broken up?
              I didn't know it. It must've happened over the weekend.
              When was the suicide?
              - Last night. - How did she do it?
              The usual way, insufficient poison.
              Say, how many times has she done it now?
              Good evening, Manuel.
              Good evening, Honoré.
              Gaston, my boy.
              Congratulations.
              Your first suicide.
              What an achievement. And at your age.
              Like everyone in Paris, we were just talking about you.
              Thank you, Honoré. I came over to...
              May I add mine, sir?
              Thank you, Manuel. I came over to get a...
              It was a stunning victory.
              - Where is the champagne? - It's ready, sir.
              I came over to get away from the telephone.
              I can imagine. Any news from the corpse?
              Fully recovered, according to late morning editions.
              And how do you feel?
              Oddly enough, I'm not quite sure.
              Make a guess.
              Well, I'd say edgy.
              Edgy?
              Almost depressed. I don't know why.
              There must be a reason.
              I suppose it's to be expected.
              I'm told Verdi felt that way after the first performance of "Aida".
              - Get a glass for yourself. - I have one, sir.
              To you, Gaston.
              May this be the first of many.
              What about tonight? Where do we go? What do we do?
              I don't know. I should consider what I do next very carefully.
              I've been weighing the idea of going to the country for a while.
              You mean, leave Paris?
              Yes. Why not?
              Why not?
              That's the one thing you mustn't do.
              Do you want people to think you're despondent? Disturbed?
              If you leave, they will, you know.
              No, no. That would be snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.
              No, no, no. For the next few weeks, you should be out every night.
              Maxim's, Moulin Rouge, Pre Catalan.
              The Pre Catalan is closed.
              Open it! You must be carefree.
              Devil-may-care.
              A different girl every night. Keep them guessing who's next.
              Play the game. Be gay...
              ...extravagant, outrageous.
              Grandmama!
              Imagine. Gaston bought out the opera last night...
              ...and brought the entire company to his house for a performance.
              I'll go.
              Gaston, how are you? You look all in.
              - Is your grandmother home? - Yes, she is.
              Is that gold?
              The handle, yes.
              You must be very rich to have a gold handle on your cane.
              Gaston, what a nice surprise.
              Don't let me disturb you, Mamita.
              I was just preparing dinner.
              Smells awfully good.
              It's just a pork cassoulet.
              It was impossible to get any goose this week.
              I'll have them send you a brace from the country.
              I brought you some caramels.
              Thank you, Gaston.
              Gaston, you spoil her so.
              The champagne is for you.
              You spoil me too.
              Be careful. You'll ruin your hands.
              I have a manicure every morning.
              What a nuisance.
              - Not like that. - No?
              Like this.
              All right.
              - Where are you going with that tie? - Let's not talk about it.
              I'm having a small party for     at the Eiffel Tower.
              - Are you going away? - Yes, for the weekend. Trouville.
              A little sea air before the next round of parties.
              - Is Trouville by the sea? - Yes, you little idiot.
              You expect to find sea air in the mountains?
              Don't make fun of me. I've never been to the ocean.
              What will you eat for dinner tonight?
              Filet of sole with mussels, for a change.
              And a lamb filet with truffles.
              It's always the same. It can't compare...
              ...with your grandmother's cassoulet.
              Why don't you stay and have some with us?
              - I wish I could. - Why not?
              All right, I will.
              But people are waiting for you.
              My car's downstairs. I'll send the chauffeur with my apologies.
              My uncle will be the host.
              Honoré? He'll do it very well.
              I'm dying to take a ride in your beautiful automobile.
              Let me deliver it.
              If you want to.
              Tell the chauffeur to take this to my uncle's house.
              - Go quickly. - Thank you.
              I can't wait to see the face of the janitress.
              And after dinner, we'll have a serious game of cards.
              And I'll beat you, as usual.
              And you'll cheat, as usual.
              Gaston, Gigi takes advantage of you.
              Let her, let her, Mamita.
              It amuses me.
              How is Honoré these days?
              The same.
              A life devoted to the chase.
              We've missed you, Gaston. We haven't seen you since the suicide.
              Yes, I've had quite a full schedule lately.
              So I've read.
              You always do things in the grand manner.
              Your parties have filled the newspapers.
              Sometimes the cure is more painful than the illness.
              But I have to do it. It's expected of me.
              Poor Gaston.
              You're in a difficult position, aren't you?
              Yes, Mamita, yes. Very difficult.
              See, the whole of Paris is watching me.
              What are you talking of?
              The whole world is watching you.
              Yes, it's quite a responsibility.
              Quite a responsibility.
              Discard two.
              Ten pounds of sugar.
              Those aren't very high stakes. Your sugar isn't that good.
              I'd rather play you for candy.
              It's the same thing, only sugar is healthier.
              You just say that because you make it.
              Gigi, I heard that. Where are your manners?
              It's all right, Mamita. It's all right.
              If I lose, what would you really like? Silk stockings?
              No. Silk stockings make my legs itch.
              I discard one.
              What I would really like is a Nile green corset...
              ...with rococo roses embroidered on the garters.
              Or a new role for the player piano.
              Or...
              Or what?
              A look at the ocean.
              All right.
              If I lose, I'll take you and Mamita to Trouville.
              I heard that too.
              Don't worry, Gaston.
              Win or lose, Gigi, you will not impose us on poor Gaston for the weekend.
              May I have a glass of champagne?
              Are you losing your mind? Of course you may not.
              Discard three.
              Discard one.
              Now, let's see.
              Cards are a matter of logic.
              I know what I have...
              ...and I know how many you've drawn.
              According to the percentages, you undoubtedly have an ace.
              You discarded a    and a five...
              ...and a queen...
              ...and a three.
              You, therefore, must have two aces.
              Two aces and something smaller.
              That's very interesting.
              Therefore...
              ...I win.
              And therefore, you lose.
              But you cheated. Where did you get that fourth king?
              I won, I won, I won!
              Why, you gypsy! You thief!
              You're a muttonhead. Do we go to Trouville?
              Yes, yes. You go to Trouville.
              Grandmama, we go to Trouville.
              It's out of the question.
              Not at all. I'd love it. Believe it or not...
              ...I have a better time with this outrageous brat...
              ...than anybody in Paris. It'll be marvelous fun.
               What time tomorrow will we get there?  Can I watch you play roulette?
               May I stay up late for supper?  Is it awfully, awfully upper?
               Gigi, you'll drive us wild
               Stop, you silly child
               Is everybody celebrated  Full of sin and dissipated?
               Is it hot enough to blister?  Will I be your little sister?
               Gigi, you are absurd
               Now, not another word
               Let her gush and jabber
               Let her be enthused
               I cannot remember  When I have been more amused
              - Stop it!  - The night they invented champagne
               It's plain as it can be
               They thought of you and me
               The night they invented champagne
               They absolutely knew
               That all we'd want to do
               Is fly to the sky on champagne
               And shout to everyone in sight
               That since the world began  No woman or a man
               Has ever been as happy  As we are tonight
               The night they invented champagne
               It's plain as it can be  They thought of you and me
               The night they invented champagne
               They absolutely knew that  All we'd want to do
               Is fly to the sky on champagne
               And shout to everyone in sight
               That since the world began
               No woman or a man
               Has ever been as happy  As we are tonight
              Why, there's Gaston.
              I didn't know he would be at Trouville.
              Who's that child he's with?
              Me, I'm here on very important business.
              There she is.
              Riding is important.
              Go.
               Chérie...
              ...I must tell you that you upset all my plans for the weekend.
              - May I? - Please.
              How did I do that?
              I came prepared for battle...
              ...and an old wound prevented me from charging.
              I don't think she was your type anyhow, Honoré.
              - You were watching me? - Force of habit.
              When a pretty woman came by, I always had to watch you.
              What good fortune brings you to Trouville?
              I came with Gaston and Gigi.
              You did?
              Gigi is my granddaughter.
              No, not your granddaughter.
              Oh, yes. Time does not stand still for all of us, Honoré.
              Don't be nervous!
              Gaston is such a dear man.
              So sweet of him to bring little Gigi and show her Trouville.
              She's having a glorious time.
              And so is Gaston.
              I haven't seen him this chipper in years.
              We had good times too...
              ...didn't we?
              Come to think of it, those last days we spent together...
              ...were by the sea, weren't they?
              Were they?
              Of course they were.
              On the Riviera. The pink villa.
              - I only remember the blue villa. - Which was that?
              The one belonging to the soprano.
              You knew.
              But of course.
              But I thought you left me because of that Austrian count.
              But of course.
              But you didn't.
              I'll tell you about that blue villa, Mamita.
              I was so much in love, I wanted to marry you.
              Yes, it's true.
              I was beginning to think of marriage.
              Imagine! Marriage, me.
              No. I was really desperate.
              I had to do something. And what I did was the soprano.
              Thank you, Honoré.
              That is the most charming and endearing excuse for infidelity...
              ...that I've ever heard.
              But I've never forgotten you.
              Not the last evening we spent together.
              I can remember everything as if it were yesterday.
               We met at  
               We met at  
               I was on time
               No, you were late
               Ah, yes
               I remember it well
               We dined with friends
               We dined alone
               A tenor sang
               A baritone
               Ah, yes
               I remember it well
               That dazzling April moon
               There was none that night
               And the month was June
               That's right
               That's right
               It warms my heart  To know that you
               Remember still  The way you do
               Ah, yes
               I remember it well
               - How often I've thought of that Friday...  - Monday
               - night, when we had  Our last rendezvous
               And somehow I foolishly  Wondered if you might
               By some chance  Be thinking of it too
               That carriage ride
               You walked me home
               You lost a glove
               I lost a comb
               Ah, yes
               I remember it well
               That brilliant sky
               We had some rain
               Those Russian songs
               From sunny Spain?
               Ah, yes
               I remember it well
               You wore a gown of gold
               I was all in blue
               Am I getting old?
               Oh, no
               Not you
               How strong you were
               How young and gay
               A prince of love
               In every way
               Ah, yes
               I remember it well
              - Where is she? - In the salon, madame.
              What's happened?
              What's so important you couldn't tell me on the telephone?
              We have serious matters to discuss. Collect yourself.
              I doubt if I'll ever be able to.
              Serious matters about what?
              About Gigi.
              You were at Trouville over the weekend with Gaston Lachaille.
              It was a dreadful mistake.
              Dreadful mistake? What are you talking about, Alicia?
              My dear sister...
              ...has it ever occurred to you that Gigi...?
              Well?
              Gigi?
              Yes, Gigi.
              It isn't possible.
              Not if it's ruined at the beginning through lack of tact.
              And when did I display any lack of tact? It was a most congenial weekend.
              So congenial that Gaston returned, canceled all engagements...
              ...and left Paris that same evening for Monte Carlo.
              He did? For how long?
              For what they describe as an extended stay.
              But why?
              It doesn't matter why.
              It may be a blessing in disguise. It gives us time.
              Time for what?
              For Gigi's lessons, of course.
              See to it that she's here every day.
              Do you really think...?
              It's a chance. But a chance that we must take.
              From now on, dear sister...
              ...it's work, work, work...
              ...lessons, lessons, lessons.
              Pick up the coffeepot with one hand and the cup and saucer with the other.
              Always both. Never the coffeepot alone.
              Like this, Aunt?
              Your grip on the saucer must be firm...
              ...but not obviously so.
              The saucer must seem so much a part of your fingers...
              ...that one would think it could only be removed by surgery.
              Now pour...
              ...and be sure the coffeepot is upright before you take the cup away.
              There must be no drops.
              Now give it to me.
              I don't take any, but be sure and always ask about cream and sugar.
              Now serve yourself.
              And remember the firm grip.
              No, the coffeepot first!
              Now, you will try it once more.
              Remember, you will go to the door properly...
              ...turn, walk in properly and sit down properly.
              Now, go on.
              And not like a marionette. Keep your shoulders level.
              Now turn...
              ...walk back and sit down.
              And don't flop into the chair.
              Insinuate yourself.
              That's better.
              Now rise and exit the same way.
              Don't jump up!
              Ascend!
              Now, you hold the glass like this.
              Charles, some more wine for mademoiselle.
              Watch me.
              Try it.
              Don't gulp it!
              Sip it. A little at a time.
              Fill mademoiselle's glass, Charles.
              That's better.
              You have to fully enjoy the aroma.
              Hold your first sip on the roof of your mouth for a moment...
              ...and breathe through your nose. Then you will feel the flavor.
              Did you feel the perfume?
              - No. - Try it again.
              A bad year will be sharp.
              A good year, which this is, of course, will waft.
              Marvelous!
              That will be all, Charles.
                Hello, Grandma...
                Hello, Gigi.
                Come in.
                How good to see you.
                I have a present for...
                What's the matter with her?
                Everything.
                Don't you look well!
                Did you have a nice trip?
                How was Monte Carlo this year?
                Well, the sea is blue. The palm trees are green.
                The sun is yellow. It all makes a lovely post card.
                Just as it should be.
                Actually, it's a bore.
                One has to be as rich as you to be bored at Monte Carlo.
                I brought Gigi some caramels.
                Really, Gaston, you spoil her too much.
                Would you like a cup of chamomile tea?
                Please. Please, Mamita.
                Look, Gaston.
                Four yards of material in the skirt.
                Well, don't I look great ladyish?
                You look like an organ-grinder's monkey!
                An organ-grinder's monkey?
                What happened to your little Scotch dress?
                And that ridiculous collar!
                And what's wrong with that collar?
                It makes you look like a giraffe with a goiter.
                With all the talk there is about you, Gaston...
                ...I've never heard it said you had any taste in clothes.
                Have you gone mad? How dare you speak to Gaston like that?
                Apologize. Apologize at once!
                I certainly will not. This is a beautiful dress.
                Gaston, please.
                I beg of you, wait. She'll apologize.
                Is this the education she gets from you and your sister?
                My congratulations to you both.
                What have you done?
                Why did he fly off the handle? He knew I'd answer him back.
                You ungrateful little thing.
                How can you be rude to Gaston when he's been so good to us?
                And just when we were trying so hard...
                ...to make an elegant young lady out of you.
                To show you off to your best advantage.
                You must admit, one doesn't have to turn oneself inside out...
                ...for an old friend like Gaston.
                It's silly.
                It's absolutely silly.
                I've decided your new dress may not be as bad as all that.
                I didn't see it properly, and perhaps I was a bit cruel.
                To prove it, I'll take you for a drive...
                ...for tea at the Reservoirs in Versailles.
                - Would you like that? - I'd love it!
                Gaston wants to take me to tea at the Reservoirs.
                You've come back, Gaston. How tolerant you are.
                I hadn't really gone.
                We're going to tea at the Reservoirs.
                No, you're not.
                I'm sorry, Gaston.
                What do you mean?
                Grandmama, please.
                Gigi, go to your room for a moment.
                I have to talk to Gaston about something.
                No, Grandmama.
                Gigi, do as you're told.
                Mamita, what does this mean?
                Something has changed here lately.
                I can feel it.
                Sit down, Gaston.
                Please.
                Gaston, you know my friendship for you.
                My friendship and my gratitude.
                But I must not forget my duty.
                Gigi's mother has neither the time nor the mind to take care of her.
                And Gigi isn't just another girl. She's special.
                Of course.
                For years, you've been giving her candies and trinkets...
                ...and she adores you.
                Now you want to take her in your automobile to the Reservoirs for tea.
                If it were just you and I, I would say:
                "Take Gigi wherever you want." I would trust her with you anywhere.
                But there are others, Gaston. You are known everywhere.
                For a woman to go out with you alone now...
                ...with the eyes of Paris on you...
                Are you trying to make me believe...
                ...that if Gigi goes out with me, she'll be compromised?
                Let us say she would be labeled.
                A young girl who goes out with you is no longer an ordinary young girl.
                Not even a respectable young girl.
                Mamita, this is absurd.
                As far as you are concerned, it would be just another news item.
                But in this case, I would not have the heart to laugh...
                ...when I read it in the newspapers.
                This is too ridiculous to discuss any further.
                I don't want to contradict you, and I don't want to argue about it.
                If you feel you're protecting Gigi from some cruel fate...
                ...that's your affair.
                I understand responsibility to Gigi better than you.
                I'll do all I can to entrust her only to a man who'll be able to say:
                "I'll take care of her. I'll answer for her future."
                Now, can I get you your chamomile tea, Gaston?
                No, thank you. I have an appointment...
                ...and I'm late already.
                But forgive me if I wonder, madame...
                ...whom you are keeping her for? Some underpaid bank clerk...
                ...who'll marry her and give her four children in three years?
                You're upset. Please...
                To see her married in white in a dingy little church to a plumber...
                ...who'll only give her a worthless name...
                ...and the squalor of good intentions?
                Very well, madame. Very well!
                If that's your ambition...
                ...inflict your misery in the name of respectability.
                I pity you! I pity you all!
                Upset!
                What utter rubbish!
                Pierre...
                ...do I look upset?
                Yes, monsieur, you do.
                Upset!
                Upset indeed!
                 She's a babe
                 Just a babe
                 Still cavorting in her crib
                 Eating breakfast with a bib
                 With her baby teeth  And all her baby curls
                 She's a tot
                 Just a tot
                 Good for bouncing on your knee  I am positive that she
                 Doesn't even know  That boys aren't girls
                 She's a snip
                 Just a snip
                 Making dreadful baby noise  Having fun with all her toys
                 Just a chickadee  Who needs a mother hen
                 She's a cub, a papoose  You could never turn her loose
                 She's too infantile  To take her from her pen
                 Of course, that weekend in Trouville
                 In spite of all her youthful zeal
                 She was exceedingly polite
                 And on the whole, a sheer delight
                 And if it wasn't joy galore
                 At least not once was she a bore
                 That I recall
                 No, not at all
                 She's a child
                 A silly child
                 Adolescent to her toes  And good heaven, how it shows
                 Sticky thumbs are all the fingers  She has got
                 She's a child
                 A clumsy child
                 She's as swollen as a grape  And she doesn't have a shape
                 Where her figure ought to be  It is not!
                 Just a child
                 A growing child
                 But so backward for her years  If a boy her age appears
                 I am certain  He will never call again
                 She's a scamp and a brat  Doesn't know where she is at
                 Unequipped and undesirable to men
                 Of course, I must in truth confess
                 That in her brand-new little dress
                 She looked surprisingly mature
                 And had a definite allure
                 It was a shock, in fact, to me
                 A most amazing shock to see
                 The way it clung
                 On one so young
                 She's a girl
                 A little girl
                 Getting older, it is true  Which is what they always do
                 Till that unexpected hour  When they blossom like a flower
                Oh, no.
                Oh, no.
                But...
                 There's sweeter music
                 When she speaks
                 Isn't there?
                 A different bloom
                 About her cheeks
                 Isn't there?
                 Could I be wrong?
                 Could it be so?
                 Oh, where  Oh, where did Gigi go?
                 Gigi
                 Am I a fool without a mind?
                 Or have I merely been too blind
                 To realize?
                 Oh, Gigi
                 Why, you've been growing up  Before my eyes
                 Gigi!
                 You're not at all  That funny, awkward little girl
                 I knew
                 Oh, no
                 Overnight
                 There's been  A breathless change
                 In you
                 Oh, Gigi
                 While you were trembling  On the brink
                 Was I out yonder somewhere  Blinking at a star?
                 Oh, Gigi
                 Have I been standing up too close
                 Or back too far?
                 When did your sparkle
                 Turn to fire?
                 And your warmth  Become desire?
                 Oh, what miracle
                 Has made you the way you are?
                 Gigi!
                 Gigi!
                 Gigi!
                 Oh, no
                 I was mad not to have seen
                 The change in you
                 Oh, Gigi!
                 While you were trembling  On the brink
                 Was I out yonder somewhere  Blinking at a star?
                 Oh, Gigi
                 Have I been standing up too close
                 Or back to far?
                 When did your sparkle
                 Turn to fire?
                 And your warmth
                 Become desire?
                 Oh, what miracle
                 Has made you the way
                 You are?
                Mamita, are you alone?
                Good. I have an important business matter to discuss with you.
                Now, let us recapitulate.
                To begin with, he said she would be spoiled as no other...
                He said she would be spoiled as no other woman has been before.
                It's all right, but it's vague. I like everything spelled out.
                Did he say precisely where she would live?
                He said a suitable house on the Avenue du Bois.
                - You're sure? - Of course.
                Well, very good. Servants?
                Yes, he mentioned servants.
                What about an automobile?
                I think so. I'm not quite sure.
                She must have an automobile and a chauffeur.
                I'm sure he didn't mean to be evasive or ungenerous.
                He suggested that you and I and our lawyer...
                ...meet at his lawyer tomorrow and draw it up in detail.
                You call him and tell him to bring his lawyer to our lawyer.
                We'll draw it up in detail.
                You mustn't be suspicious, Alicia.
                - Gigi doesn't know yet? - How could she?
                He just left. But he wants to have dinner with her this evening.
                When you speak to Gigi, be sure and stress...
                ...the difficulties of the situation, not the delights.
                The role she will have to play.
                She's a naive, thoughtless girl.
                You must warn her not to ask for the moon.
                Not only will he not give it...
                Don't worry about her. You think she's like you.
                Actually, you don't know her. There's no meanness in her at all.
                Thank you very much.
                I mean, she has no material ambition.
                I understand. He should send a present before tonight.
                Let me know what it is.
                Yes, I will.
                Won't you sit down?
                You know why I'm here?
                Yes, I know.
                Do you want to...
                ...or don't you?
                I don't want to.
                I don't know what you want. You told Grandmama...
                I know what I told your grandmother. We don't have to repeat it.
                Just tell me simply what you don't want...
                ...and tell me what you do want.
                Do you mean that?
                Of course.
                You told Grandmama that you wanted to take care of me.
                To take care of you beautifully.
                Beautifully. That is, if I like it.
                They've pounded into my head I'm backward for my age...
                ...but I know what all this means.
                To take care of me beautifully means I shall go away with you...
                ...and that I shall sleep in your bed.
                Please, Gigi.
                I beg of you, you embarrass me.
                You weren't embarrassed to talk to Grandmama about it.
                And Grandmama wasn't embarrassed to talk to me about it.
                But I know more than she told me. To take care of me...
                ...means that I shall have my photograph in the papers.
                That I shall go to the Riviera. To the races at Deauville.
                And when we fight, it will be in all the columns the next day.
                And when you'd give me up, as you did with Inés des Cévennes.
                Who's been filling your head with all these old stories?
                How do you know about that?
                Why shouldn't I know?
                You're world famous.
                I know about the woman who stole from you.
                The "contessa" who wanted to shoot you.
                The American who wanted to marry you. I know what everybody knows.
                These aren't the things we have to talk about together.
                That's all in the past, over and done with.
                Yes, Gaston.
                Until it begins again.
                It's not your fault you're world famous.
                It's just that I haven't got a world famous sort of nature.
                When it's over, Gaston Lachaille goes off with another lady.
                And I have only to go into another gentleman's bed.
                That won't do for me.
                I'm not changeable. That won't do for me.
                Grandmama and Aunt Alicia are on your side, but this concerns me too.
                And I think I should have something to say about it.
                And what I say is, it won't work. It won't work!
                Are you trying to find a way to tell me that I don't please you?
                That you don't like me?
                Oh, no, Gaston!
                Oh, no. I do like you.
                I'm so happy when I'm with you.
                Gaston, couldn't we go on just as we are?
                Maybe seeing each other a little more often?
                You're a friend of the family. Nobody would think anything of it.
                You could go on bringing me licorice and caramels...
                ...and champagne on my birthday.
                And on Sundays, we can have an extra special game of cards.
                Wouldn't that be a lovely little life?
                A wonderful little life.
                Except that you forget one thing:
                I'm in love with you.
                You never told me.
                I haven't known it very long.
                I discovered it when I was away from you.
                In Monte Carlo.
                You are a wicked man.
                You're in love with me...
                ...and you want to drag me into a life that will make me suffer!
                You think nothing of exposing me to all sorts of terrible adventures...
                ...ending in quarrels, separations...
                ...pistol shots, Sandomirs and poison!
                Please listen to me!
                I should never have believed this of you. Never!
                What's the matter?
                What's happened?
                She doesn't seem to want to.
                What do you mean?
                I mean she doesn't want to!
                Are you going out of your mind?
                As God is my witness, I explained it to her. Believe me.
                You explained too much!
                You've trained her to know nothing but the sordid and the vulgar.
                But what about kindness, sweetness, benevolence?
                What of the tender heart bulging with generosity?
                These things exist too, madame. Or have you never heard of them?
                Uncle! I'll tell you...
                ...Europe is breeding a generation of vandals and ingrates.
                Children are coming into the world...
                ...with ice-covered souls and hatchets in their hands!
                And before they have finished, they'll smash everything beautiful and decent.
                Have a piece of cheese.
                No, thank you.
                I envy you, Uncle. I envy you, your age.
                For you, it was different.
                You've been clean and good, and it's been appreciated.
                But not anymore. It's over. All over.
                I'm sorry to hear it. A little salad?
                No, thank you.
                Imagine this if you can:
                Here is a girl, living in a moldy apartment, decaying walls...
                ...worm-ridden furniture, surrounded by filth.
                You're ruining my lunch.
                Nothing to look forward to but abject poverty.
                My heart was touched. I wanted to help her.
                I offered her everything:
                House, car, servants, clothes...
                ...and me.
                And?
                She turned me down.
                - Turned you down? - Turned me down.
                It's impossible.
                It's not impossible. It just happened.
                Obviously, that disgusting apartment she lives in has driven her mad.
                Her grandmother was delighted.
                - Grandmother? - Yes, Mamita.
                But Gigi... No, no, no. Not Gigi.
                She refused me. She turned me down.
                I was refused, rejected, rebuffed...
                ...and repudiated.
                They're a very peculiar family with peculiar ideas.
                I negotiated with them myself once.
                With me, one casual bit of grazing in another pasture...
                ...and the gate was slammed behind me.
                What did you do?
                - I left immediately. - Bravo!
                The absolutely right thing to do.
                Of course.
                And when she sends for you, which you realize she will...
                Of course. I know she will.
                This is plainly a maneuver for better terms.
                Don't you go back!
                I wouldn't go back for anything in the world.
                After all, you behaved like a perfect gentleman.
                No question about it.
                You made your offer in good faith...
                ...before any emotional advance.
                An act of the purest chivalry.
                I don't know any other way.
                And if she doesn't appreciate the nobility of your conduct...
                ...if she uses the beauty of your nature...
                ...as a weapon for bargaining...
                ...then she's obviously not worth the chivalry or the nobility.
                It's no one's fault. You're too good for her.
                Do you know how long it will take you to forget her?
                By tomorrow noon at the latest.
                Why not consult your little book and meet me at Maxim's tonight?
                Splendid idea.
                I would suggest a redhead.
                Try Michéle. I saw her last night. She looked heavenly.
                I'll call her at once.
                You should. She doesn't have many good years left.
                - See you at  ? - Nine sharp.
                Goodbye, Honoré.
                 Poor boy
                 Poor boy
                 Downhearted and depressed  And in a spin
                 Poor boy
                 Poor boy
                 Oh, youth can really  Do a fellow in
                 How lovely to sit here  In the shade
                 With none of the woes  Of man and maid
                 I'm glad I'm not young anymore
                 The rivals that don't exist at all
                 The feeling you're only   feet tall
                 I'm glad that I'm not young anymore
                 No more confusion
                 No morning-after surprise
                 No self-delusion
                 That when you're telling those lies
                 She isn't wise
                 And even if love  Comes through the door
                 The kind that goes on forevermore
                 Forevermore is shorter than before
                 Oh, I'm so glad
                 That I'm not young anymore
                 The tiny remark that tortures you
                 The fear that your friends  Won't like her too
                 I'm glad I'm not young anymore
                 The longing to end a stale affair
                 Until you find out she doesn't care
                 I'm glad that I'm not young anymore
                 No more frustration
                 No star-crossed lover am I
                 No aggravation
                 Just one reluctant reply
                 Lady, goodbye
                 The fountain of youth  Is dull as paint
                 Methuselah is my patron saint
                 I've never been so comfortable before
                 Oh, I'm so glad
                 That I'm not young anymore
                Yes, madame?
                Charles, I'm going out.
                Order me a carriage immediately.
                Yes, madame. Right away, madame.
                Would you repeat that again, please?
                She doesn't want to.
                She doesn't want to?
                She doesn't want to.
                Such stupidity is without equal...
                ...in the entire history of human relations.
                It must be your fault. It must be.
                You must've emphasized the difficulties instead of the delights.
                What did you say to the little monster?
                Gigi is perhaps a little slow about certain things...
                ...but just because she's not attracted to Gaston...
                ...doesn't make her a monster.
                It doesn't make her a princess.
                What did you say to her?
                Did you tell her about love, travel, moonlight, Italy?
                About hummingbirds in all the flowers...
                ...and making love in a gardenia-scented garden?
                I couldn't tell her that.
                I've never been further than the Riviera.
                Couldn't you have invented it?
                No, Alicia, I could not.
                It's incredible.
                Incredible! Where is she?
                Perhaps I should talk to her and tell her what she's missing.
                It's the glory of romance...
                ...forgetting everything in the arms of the man who adores you...
                ...listening to the music of love in an eternal spring.
                - And when eternal spring is over? - What difference does that make?
                It makes a difference to Gigi. And I'll tell you something:
                I'm not sure I don't agree with her.
                You're a fool! And your granddaughter takes after you.
                When I think of the time and effort I've lavished on that idiotic child!
                I received a note from Gigi. She said she wanted to see me.
                Of course.
                Won't you come in?
                Thank you.
                You know my sister?
                My dear Mr. Lachaille. What a pleasant surprise.
                And how is your enchanting father?
                He has diabetes.
                If one is in the sugar business...
                And your attractive mother? Well, I hope.
                Gaston, I have been thinking.
                I'd rather be miserable with you than without you.
                 Say a prayer  For me tonight
                 I'll need every prayer
                 That you can spare  To get me by
                 Say a prayer
                 And while you're praying
                 Keep on saying
                 She's much too young to die
                 On to your Waterloo
                 Whispers my heart
                 Pray I'll be Wellington
                 Not Bonaparte
                 Say a prayer
                 For me this evening
                 Bow your head and please
                 Stay on your knees
                 Tonight
                I thought perhaps we might go to Siena in July...
                ...beginning of the season.
                And when do we go to Deauville?
                At the end of August.
                It isn't absolutely necessary, if you'd rather not.
                Don't say it. I'd love to go.
                Especially to the casino.
                You know how much I love to gamble.
                Would you like more coffee?
                I'll do it.
                Of course, the roulette wheel won't be as easy to beat as you are.
                Nor as easy to cheat.
                You always knew that I cheated, didn't you?
                Look.
                What?
                Madame Dunard.
                How do you know Madame Dunard?
                I know all about Madame Dunard. Do you see her pearls?
                Dipped.
                Dipped. Not worth a sou.
                The poor thing doesn't know it.
                It's just a matter of time now.
                Would you like to dance?
                I'd love to.
                What an evening.
                Don't you think so, darling?
                Gaston, my boy, I waited for you.
                - Good evening, Honoré. - Good evening, Monsieur Lachaille.
                Do you know what we are going to do?
                We are going to...
                What's that in your breast pocket?
                - I'm sorry. - What is it?
                It's a present for you.
                Wouldn't you like to see it?
                Oh, no. Not now.
                Later. I'd rather dance with you.
                May I see it now?
                The present.
                Gaston, that's beautiful.
                They're simply beautiful.
                Oh, what a color!
                Only the most beautiful emeralds contain that miracle...
                ...of elusive blue.
                What taste you have.
                If I may say so, much better than your taste in clothes.
                - May I put it on? - The clasp is a bit tricky.
                Why not ask the lady in the powder room to help?
                Yes, of course. Thank you.
                My dear, dear, dear boy.
                How did it happen? She changed her mind?
                Obviously.
                How delicious!
                Did you have to improve the arrangement?
                Please don't be vulgar.
                She looks adorable.
                So fresh, so eager...
                ...so young.
                It's the sophisticated women who get boring so quickly.
                What can they give you? Everything but surprise.
                But with someone like Gigi...
                She can amuse you for months.
                I'm so happy for you. I can't wait to tell Manuel.
                Good night. Good night.
                I don't understand.
                What's wrong?
                It's too early to go home yet.
                I thought I was doing so well. What's the matter?
                I don't want to go home yet!
                Please, Gaston.
                Gaston, won't you tell me what I've done wrong?
                Gaston, do tell me. Please!
                What's happened?
                Gigi, what's happened?
                May I come in?
                Gaston, please.
                No newspapers. No scandal.
                Madame, will you do me the honor...
                ...the favor...
                ...give me the infinite joy of bestowing on me...
                ...Gigi's hand in marriage?
                Thank heaven.
                 For little girls
                 For little girls  Get bigger every day
                 Thank heaven
                 For little girls
                 They grow up  In the most delightful way
                 Those little eyes  So helpless and appealing
                 One day will flash and send you  Crashing through the ceiling
                 Thank heaven for little girls
                 Thank heaven for them all  No matter where, no matter who
                 Without them  What would little boys do?
                 Thank heaven
                 Thank heaven
                 Thank heaven
                 For little girls


 
  
  
 
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