Gigi Page #2

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, Honor.

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.

ln your chair.

Thank you.

What beautiful material.

Very chic!

Just the sort of thing

Honor used to wear.

A bit more conservative, perhaps.

Would you like a sweet?

No, thank you. But l would love a cup

of your chamomile tea.

But of course.

More than just one, l 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.

lt'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?

l haven't seen her for quite a while.

l 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

Honor 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.

lt's so good to be here.

lt'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 l think. . .

. . .it was in. . .

. . . 1 859. . .

. . .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?

l 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.

lf l can do it, you can.

What friends have you made?

None.

l'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 l don't think you would understand.

Oh, yes, Aunt, l 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! lt 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.

lt'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?

lt'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?

ln 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. . .

. . .l could have devoured

all Paris and most of Europe.

But l can't complain.

l 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.

-l 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 l don't smoke cigars.

Of course you don't smoke cigars.

But a man does.

Everything l 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

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