Impromptu Page #7

You must think I'm inexperienced,

but I assure you,

I was baptised in the brothels of Paris

when I first arrived.

But, um...

I'm so ill,

and I have been for such a long time,

and my body

is such a great disappointment to me

that I've already said goodbye to it.

I'm not really in it any more.

I'm just happier

floating about in music.

And if I should come back

inside this miserable

collection of bones,

then I am afraid that

it would probably collapse altogether.

Forgive me.

- I am ashamed.

- No, no.

Forgive me.

I'm a fraud, you know.

Divine mystery!

I've never experienced that with anyone.

I've always had

disastrous relationships.

- I've never managed to stay in love.

- Why?

I don't know.

I want too much.

I think.

Except when I hear you play.

And when I'm around you.

Look...

I simply want to be with you.

The rest doesn't matter. Really.

Do you think we could just...

be together?

Like this?

Yes. Yes.

Well, I have at last heard "yes".

So... that's enough.

And I'm happy.

So we'll go back to Paris.

Sophie!

Will you please take them for a walk?

Throw them in the Seine! I don't care!

So George has caught another butterfly.

Why shouldn't he fall in love with her?

He hasn't fallen in love.

He has succumbed to her.

The poor man was simply standing there

and was crushed under her wheels.

It's not too late.

Franz, you must go over at once

and talk to him.

Please.

Excellent. Thank you. Show me.

That is perfect. Thank Monsieur Villon

for me. We can be off.

Franz. I... I didn't know you were back.

- Countess.

- You're going out?

Er, yes, I'm just leaving.

The Etudes are published. I didn't know.

Let's have a listen.

Could you take those downstairs for me?

And this trunk has to go.

Franz, Chopin's going out.

We'll come with you so we can talk.

I'm going to meet Madame Sand.

- This is wonderful!

- You play it better than I.

You're going on a trip?

Franz!

Chopin is going to meet Madame Sand.

Franz thinks you're making a mistake.

He's in a position to caution you.

He once had his own experience

with George.

- Marie, I told you nothing happened.

- So you love to claim.

You must listen to him,

because, one way or another,

Franz knows exactly who she is.

I've always wanted to know.

See here, darling.

Chopin has dedicated the Etudes to you.

To me?

It is a tremendous honour.

What did you do to deserve it, I wonder?

Marie is an angel of inspiration.

It's good to see you, Franz.

You should come back

to Paris more often.

We all get into such trouble

when you're away.

Where are you taking him?

For a long time now I have blamed myself

for your unhappiness and suffering.

And when I think

of the music I might have written

if not for the guilt which has

murdered my vitality all these years!

But Chopin has seen

a happier side of you, it seems.

You can't think that I...

that he and I were lovers?

I'm not sure it was a good idea of yours

dedicating the Etudes to her.

Why not? We are in love.

We can afford to be generous.

They're running away together!

It's a catastrophe!

- It sounds like fun to me.

- Oh, I see.

Ever the wily peasant you are.

With Chopin out of Paris, your music

no longer suffers the comparison!

They say Majorca

is the most magical island in the world.

The sun will bake that silly cough

out of your lungs in no time.

Think of it! Spain!

Pirates!

Pirates!

Don't you understand? She'll kill him!

She'll kill him!

May we shut this, please?

No, darling, the air is good for you.

ENHOH:

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