Mad Love

- No, I won't. Let's get out of here.

- There's nothing to be afraid of.

When I go out to a play,

I want to have some fun.

You bring me to a place like this

where they make you scream and faint.

But it's a fillip to jaded nerves.

It's a new shudder.

Well, if that's the kind of a man you are,

you can take me home.

Now, wait a minute, darling.

You've got it all wrong.

Flowers again.

- A gentleman of the old school, Marie.

- Old or new, they all try the same things.

"Tonight I'm sad. For no longer will

I be able to watch you every evening

"from my lonely, shadowed box."

And no signature.

A man can't take the same box

every night for 47 nights

without the whole theatre

knowing who he is.

Gogol. Nasty, foreign-sounding name.

That was very mean of you.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

Making fun of a famous man

like Dr. Gogol.

Well, if he's so famous, what's he doing

hanging around here all the time?

Why, Marie, my public.

No, he really is a great surgeon.

He cures deformed children

and mutilated soldiers.

Soldiers? I wish he'd fix one up for me.

Your usual box, Professor?

- Will you do me a favor?

- Of course.

Call Dr. Wong at my clinic and tell him

I'll be there before midnight, will you?

Most happy, Doctor.

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

I've been meeting you in dreams

all my life,

standing just like that.

You know me.

Raoul, your own little cabbage?

Take your hands off.

Why didn't you warn me, my dear?

My card, monsieur.

I'm perfectly willing

to give you satisfaction.

Don't be a fool.

And don't you be jealous, my friend.

She's not for either of us. She's only wax.

Good evening, Doctor.

What time is it?

Just on the hour.

What number is the station?

Madame, I only told you

four times tonight, 12.50.

After I was married a year,

I remembered things like radio stations

and forgot my husband.

Continuing our concert

from Fontainebleau,

we shall now hear one of the most

brilliant younger English pianists,

an artist with a great future.

How about mentioning that he's married

to an artist with a great future?

Louder, Marie, he didn't hear you.

- Curtain call, madame.

- Oh, yes, yes

... here, tonight, for the first time

on any concert stage,

an original composition of Monsieur Orlac.

Hurry, please, please, hurry.

His enviable reputation for purity of tone

and brilliance of technique.

Monsieur Orlac is now on the platform.

- Curtain call, Yvonne.

- Oh, yes, Charles.

You listen, Marie. You know the signal.

If he coughs twice, it means "I love you."

Sir, how dare you threaten your Duchess

with torture?

- The Duke.

- You see my warrant.

You only have one question to answer.

Who was the man who escaped

from your balcony in the palace?

No!

Don't! No!

How you must love him.

Nicolo, you're my husband.

You loved me once.

His name?

Yes, he was there. Yes, I do love him.

But do you think I'd betray him

to your vengeance? Never!

- How very unpleasant. Bring the irons.

- No!

Yes, yes, it was your brother!

- Did he cough?

- Certainly.

- How many times?

- Six, eight, ten times. I lost count.

Maybe he has a cold.

If he doesn't cough, he doesn't love you.

If he coughs too much, he has a cold.

What a system.

From now on,

we won't need any more systems.

Maybe we'll miss all this.

Curtain calls, grease paint, an audience.

Stephen will be my audience.

It's a waste, one person.

No, no, not waste, Marie. Happiness.

Marie, come on, we need help at the party.

You go, I can dress myself.

And don't get too near the punch bowl.

Monsieur Orlac's last number will be

the G Minor Ballade by Chopin.

And I love you, darling.

Madame Yvonne, would it be possible?

Come in.

Oh, it's you, Dr. Gogol.

- You know me?

- We all know you.

You've kept the theatre running by

buying that box every night.

Won't you come in?

Thank you so much

for all the lovely flowers.

Every night I have watched you

and tonight, the last night,

I felt I must come and thank you

- for what you have meant to me.

- I'm very flattered, Doctor.

And when the theatre reopens,

I shall be in my box again.

- Every night.

- I do hope so, for the theatre's sake.

- I won't be here, I'm afraid.

- You are playing somewhere else?

Never again.

- Never again?

- No.

I'm going to England with my husband.

Your...

Your husband?

Yes, that's he playing now

from Fontainebleau. Stephen Orlac.

I'm meeting his train tonight.

- Stephen Orlac.

- How do you think he plays?

That's his own composition, you know.

Very modern music.

We've been married a year,

but he's been on tour

and I've been busy with the theatre.

So you see,

this is really going to be our honeymoon.

You know, I've come to depend

on seeing you every night.

But I'm going to England.

But I must see you again. I must.

Yvonne, we're all waiting. Hurry.

Dr. Gogol, why not join our party?

You represent our public. Come on.

Oh! Lovely!

A wedding cake for the bride

who's been married a year.

Who hasn't been on her honeymoon yet.

What am I bid for the first slice?

- A kiss for the bride.

- Sold.

I want to kiss the bride, too.

The line forms on the right.

One kiss, one piece of cake for each.

- I'm next.

- Me, too.

What... Doctor.

- No champagne, no cake, and no kiss?

- No, thank you.

Come along. Yvonne. Yvonne.

Yvonne. Yvonne, don't forget our public.

- Dr. Gogol.

- Dr. Gogol.

That's a good one.

- I wish I had one like that.

- You would, eh?

- Who's next?

- I'm next.

- No, I...

- No, I am next.

How about me? How about me?

Where are you taking that figure?

- To the melting pot.

- Melting pot?

Yes, 50 francs of wax in that thing.

And no doubt you'd take 75 for it.

Would you?

What's the idea?

- Did you ever hear of Galatea?

- Galla who?

- Not wanting a statue of him, are you?

- I don't want a statue of Galatea.

You see, she was a statue herself.

Pygmalion formed her,

out of marble, not wax.

And

then,

she came to life in his arms.

Start the motor, Henry.

There's queer people on the streets

of Montmartre at this time of night.

Here, 100 francs,

if you'll deliver the statue to my house.

It's a go, Dr. Gogol.

First thing in the morning.

You see, monsieur, 20 francs extra

for the dog in the van.

Of course, monsieur, the guard.

You will keep my confidence?

Well, if my silence

is worth 20 francs to you, buy it.

I'm hungry.

- Who is that man?

- Rollo, the murderer.

Rollo. You read the case, monsieur?

The American threw knives in a circus.

Stuck one in his father's back

because of a woman.

He was convicted last week.

His autograph.

I have here autographs

of a hundred famous persons

and not a single murderer.

May I use your pen, monsieur? Thank you.

- Pardon me.

- Come on in, fat boy.

- Monsieur Rollo?

- Yeah.

- Don't you stick your nose in here.

- Yes. You might get it pinched.

Give a guy a break.

You boys won't gab with me.

- I followed your case in the papers.

- Yeah? For once I got top billing.

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