La môme aux boutons Page #4

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I wish this one.

Tomorrow I leave for the front.

There's the piano.

You have five minutes.

Edith...

We shall have to wait.

Stop.

I want it.

Everybody out.

You can't mean that.

We're already late.

What can't she mean?

Play it.

I want it for Bobino.

You can't do that.

Edith Piaf can do whatever she pleases!

French, please.

She's too hopeless, too poor...

-Help us out here, Charles.

I'm no translator.

'Miserable. And not in the French

tradition of the Can-Can and Gay Paris.'

A complete flop.

This isn't the first time I've had to fight.

The Americans want pretty girls, not me.

I'm not the Parisian sex bomb

you were hoping for.

Can you picture me in a ballet?

With a feather in my arse?

Go ahead and laugh.

I'm not what they want.

They think I'm too doleful, THEY are stupid.

-Yes, too stupid.

.

.

You made the front page.

-Two columns.

.

.

.

I can't read it.

Translate it.

He says that she shouldn't let you go.

That it would be a mistake.

The Americans don't deserve you.

I knew something would happen!

I have to change...

...Ginou, help me help me choose a dress.

I'm going out tonight. I have a date.

.

What's this, Marcel?

-Beef...try it.

It smells like damp dog.

.

What?

.

.

Your English is as good as the meat.

Don't you like it here?

I was taken a bit by surprise.

I didn't expect it...

...when you phoned to say that as two French people

in New York we should have a meal...

...I didn't expect this.

-I come here all the time.

You sure know how to spoil a girl.

Have you decided?

-Twee broodjes pastrami.

I'll handle this: two Tournedos Rossini,

and a bottle of Chateau Langelus 1938.

Are you hungry?

-It's better than cooked dog.

I'm sorry.

Let's start over. Okay?

How long have you been in New York?

-Eight weeks.

And do you like America?

-It doesn't interest me at all.

I don't understand them,

and they don't understand me.

You must miss Paris.

-Terribly.

What do you do when you're not singing?

Your like the police with your questions.

I knit.

Give me your size and

I'll knit you a sweater.

No, but thanks all the same...

Those people recognized you.

-Really?

They said:
'That schmuck lost his

recent fights. He's washed up.'

I'll show them who's washed up.

-No!

Relax. I was joking.

It's fine.

Can we be less formal to each other?

-Of course.

What do you do when you aren't boxing?

-I train and I run...

And after the training?

-ln Morocco I work on my farm.

You have a farm?

I breed pigs.

Well, why not?

Absolutely. Why not?

It's a fine farm: modern, with superb, fat pigs.

Who takes care of them when you're boxing?

-My wife.

You have...

...wonderful hands.

Did you hear what I said, Momone?

-You have really beautiful fingers.

Listen.

What colour are your eyes?

He leaned over...

-And his breath smelled.

You can be such a b*tch!

-He is of course a pig breeder.

He said...

-Violet blue.

Of course, violet blue.

It was the way he said it.

As though he was a child.

Then he said:

-You're just like a fairy.

A bit of an exaggeration.

Did you kiss him?

-I didn't dare.

It was a wonderful evening.

-Too short.

Will you come and see me box?

-Of course.

Did he try to kiss you?

I don't know if he even thought about it.

And I'm supposed to believe that!

I'll come to see you sing.

Goodnight.

He's the love of my life...

You were superb.

Mr. Lucien Roupp,

Mr. Cerdan's manager.

Mr. Jameson,

of CBS television.

.

Marlene.

Good evening. I'm sorry,

I just wanted to say something.

I haven't been in Paris in years.

But this evening, when you sang

I was right back there again..

...on her streets, beneath her skies.

Your voice is the soul of Paris.

You took me with you on your travels.

You brought tears to my eyes.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

-Thank you.

Come on.

I'm beginning to like this city.

The stars are out tonight.

Let's go.

Marc, do you know how long

a frog lives for?

In fairytales or in real life?

No one ever read me fairytales.

You never had the chance to hear them.

That's true, but all the same...

Dreux. 13 December 1959

I'm a little tired.

I'll be right back.

Lay her down there.

I'll go back on in a minute.

-Out of the question.

Nobody tells ME when to stop.

What are we going to do?

-Sorry, you'll have to clear the house.

I'm going back there!

-No, Edith.

I have to continue.

-It would be suicide.

You're going to hospital.

No, I'm begging you!

She left hospital only three weeks ago.

There'll be more galas.

Take me back to the stage.

I have to sing.

I have to sing, Louis.

I have no choice.

Edith, please...

Can't you hear them?

-Stop...

Shut that door!

Take me back there, Louis.

If I don't sing tonight...

If I don't sing one song at least,

I'll lose faith in myself. Do you follow?

Doctor...

...do what you have to do.

Not this time, boys.

You think I'm going to collapse,

but I'm in great shape.

Don't you dare write that this is my suicide tour!

'Padam'!

Saint Theresa,

first of all my thanks...

I know you're behind it all.

You sent him to me.

I've found love,

thanks to you.

Baby Jesus,

protect Marcel.

Come on, Marcel!

No!

It's too early, Edith.

-He's going to win. I feel it.

If things go wrong, you've a problem.

-What do you mean?

If there's no problem,

I'll call you. Now go.

Hurry up!

Come on, Marcel!

One more round!

Come on, Marcel!

Finish him off!

What's happening?

-Zale is sitting it out.

Did he do it?

Is he the world champion?

You look like an angel.

Not a fairy any more?

You're my champion.

I want to be with you always.

There was nothing before I met you.

All that is in the past.

Stay with me.

My dearest, before going to bed last night

I crossed off a day...

...a day that was long and short.

Such pain, that plane flew away with my heart.

My life, my breath...

...my sweet boy,

my child, my dearest love...

...your scent is still on my sheets,

and my heart sleeps without waking...

...in the arms of sadness.

Darling, I love you.

What have you done to me?

I miss you.

I'm depressed, lifeless,

as though I'm waiting for something...

...hold me close against your heart and

know that nothing means more to me than you.

Bring me back my heart.

Whenever I'm in a restaurant and

hear 'La Vie en Rose'...

If I see, my love, how devoted you are

to your wife and children...

...I have the urge to go far away...

...and perhaps one day you'll be

grateful for what I've done.

I can't have you to myself

and I can't live without you.

As God is my witness, I ask nothing for myself...

...and am prepared to sacrifice everything.

'If life were to take you from me...

...if you should die or be far away,

and you were to love me, I too would die.'

In three months' time,

wait for it, in April...

...I'm going to star in L'Olympia.

Full house and then we're back again.

Your liver is damaged...

...you've been ill and need rest.

It's serious this time.

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