Les Miserables Page #8

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Take care of them.

In the hovel where he lived,

Marius dreamt less of the Republic

than of that young woman

met in the Luxembourg and

whose name he didn't know.

Come on in.

Hello, Mr. Marius.

Don't you recognize me?

We know each other, though.

We meet everyday in the stairwell

and in the hallway.

You don't notice me.

I'm your neighbors' daughter--

the Jondrettes.

The room next door.

You must hear us, though.

A mirror!

Look at me. No wonder

you don't notice me.

May I?

What can I do for you?

I was bringing a letter.

- A letter?

- Yes, from my father.

No need to read it.

He says the same thing to everyone;

he's asking for money.

It's all a joke.

But we did used to have an inn

in the countryside.

Then, bankruptcy.

Now, we eat when we have time.

May I?

It's good.

It's hard, it breaks your teeth.

We're used to it.

We can't complain, though; last

winter, we slept under bridges.

We huddled together

so we wouldn't freeze.

My sister was crying.

Sometimes, I felt like

drowning myself.

When I looked at the water,

I thought it was too cold for that.

I, too, had some rough times.

I write copies at night.

I unloaded bags in the Halles.

You?

You have nice hands, though.

They're white.

You're quite handsome, Mr. Marius.

You're not any richer than us

to live in such a hovel.

But destitution is

what we're fighting against.

To each according to his needs.

We would like bread

and work for everyone.

You know that General

Lamarque is dying?

- Who is he?

- Our last defender.

- Then we are doomed?

- No, since we're here.

We're preparing the revolution.

The Republic.

My father always tells us

about the Emperor.

That's all he talks about.

That's not going to feed us.

I still have this.

I already had lunch.

Louis the Eighteenth!

Long live the King!

A few days later,

the young woman, hungry,

walked by a bakery

and succumbed to temptation.

Thief! Stop her! Thief!

- What is it?

- Thief! Stop her!

- Stop her!

- She stole a loaf of bread!

- What's going on?

- A girl stole a loaf of bread.

I'll take you to the police.

Go get a police officer.

No need to get a police officer.

- Will you pay for the bread?

- Of course.

It's all well and good,

but she's still a thief.

She didn't rob the whole bakery.

A loaf won't bankrupt it.

Come on.

Here.

At this price, I'll sell

you bread every day.

Here.

It's good. Meanwhile,

the others go hungry.

I knew you would be

thinking about them.

Let's bring them a nice meal, if

you'd like. With two bottles of wine.

My father is taking care of it.

Miss? They just brought in

the new dress.

Do you want it?

No!

Take it. It'd make me happy.

We're about the same size.

Usually,

rich people aren't like that.

They give you old things

and make speeches,

and put their hands on you.

They give you crumbs, like a dog.

I'd like to bite them.

But you... you're different.

Shall we go?

I gave her my dress.

You did good.

See? There are worse things

than heartache.

I brought a rich man!

With his daughter.

They saved me from prison.

They gave me a dress!

They're bringing food!

We took a hackney coach!

I think I had too much to drink.

A rich man?

- You, go to bed.

- Why?

You're ill. Lie down.

- You, break a pane.

- A pane?

- Break a pane!

- What for?

To look pitiful.

- Don't play tricks on them!

- Shut up!

So, are you breaking this pane?

- I'm bleeding!

- That's nothing!

Illness, cold, blood--perfect.

Careful.

Who did you tell him I was?

- My father.

- What name?

- I didn't give a name.

- Well...

I am... Honor Fabantou, actor.

Go meet them!

Are you done?

This is our home.

Come on in, young lady.

Come on in, dear sir.

My daughter told me

what you did for her.

The wretched kid, who stole a loaf

of bread while her mother is ill!

I raised her like an artist.

And she's talented, sir.

Don't worry, once you're gone,

She shall pay for it.

Let me get this for you, young lady.

Bring a chair.

Not this one.

Bordeaux wine?

It's baby Jesus in silk drawers.

Take this.

Sit down, Miss. Excuse the chair,

we're very poor.

You must be blessed

with such a fine young lady.

I, too, am bringing mine up

religiously, to be honest and kind.

They better believe in God

or I'll smack them.

You don't want to sit down?

No, thank you. We won't stay long.

Don't leave so soon. I should

have welcomed you better,

but my poor wife is ill.

She's ill.

Look at that man.

Do you recognize him?

Why? What's wrong?

Look at him.

And whimper, for God's sake!

Shortness of breath.

Comes from her age.

And my other daughter is injured.

It's broken. She's shy.

She had an accident

while working at the factory.

Her arm was almost torn off.

- My God!

- Don't listen to him!

The pane is broken.

The fire is out. What misery!

You don't work?

I'm an artist, sir.

I can't just do anything.

I enjoyed some success.

Yes, I know you well.

I can't go near a theater

dressed like this.

And I owe four quarters

to my landlord.

He gave me until tomorrow.

If I don't pay, he'll throw us

out on the street,

with my sick wife and

my child with her wound.

You won't end up on the street.

I don't have the money on me;

I'll take my daughter home and return.

I'll be back around eight.

Come on.

Thank you.

So, I'll be here at eight o'clock.

Thank you, my benefactor!

Thank you, Miss.

See you later, dear sir,

and thank you again.

You are like Providence.

You are God.

Will we go see him

when he plays somewhere?

You won't have the opportunity

to see him again, my child.

19 Rue Plumet.

Follow that coach!

It's 40 sous an hour.

- I will pay on returning.

- Payment in advance.

It's beautiful!

Will you let me borrow it?

It won't fit you, you're too skinny.

Don't touch it

with your filthy hands!

Father, she won't let me borrow it.

Don't worry.

Tomorrow, you'll have

a satin dress and silk boots.

- What?

- You're crazy.

You didn't recognize him?

Poor old woman, she's blind.

Who is it?

All I can say is he must be richer

than the Finance Minister.

Too much money for one man.

We'll tell Claquesous,

he'll warn the Gang.

Don't do that. It's not your style.

Don't worry, this man

doesn't like the police.

You get it?

Eponine!

Where did she go?

What are you doing here?

I'm looking at myself.

You don't notice anything?

No.

What's wrong?

- Are you sad?

- Yes.

- Is the General dead?

- No.

You're not ill, are you?

You were kind to me the other day.

Now it's my turn. Can I help you?

I'd like to.

- Listen...

- Yes, talk to me.

The gentleman and his daughter

who came by your house...

You saw her. You like her.

You find her beautiful.

Beautiful...

Do you know where she lives?

No.

- But you can find her.

- I don't think so.

Here! To your health, Mother!

Here you are. Where were you?

I needed you.

Tonight, we'll go visit your

gentleman and his daughter.

Where do they live?

I don't know.

What do you mean?

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