Les Enfants du paradis

I'll be brief.
I need money.

Everyone does.
More or less.
Maybe, but I'd like to know
why you come to me.

- I don't even know you.
- No matter.

I know you.
All Paris knows you.
You're too kind.
But let's not get carried away.
Yes, you are already famous,
and no doubt rich enough
for a man at bay
to appeal to you, quite simply.

- At bay?
- It's a matter of life and death.

- Seriously?
- Do I look like I'm joking?

I'm not rich,
but perhaps Fate sent you.
I won at the lottery last week.
I haven't spent it all.
You're in luck.

I'd give it all
to a friend or brother.

But as I haven't the honor
of knowing you...

all I can say is:
Let's share it.
If this tiny amount is of any help,
I offer it to you.
"Quite simply."
You amaze me.
Actors are said to be misers.

Great ones, especially.
Fine, then.
There's still progress to be made.
You practice a peculiar craft.
- The best.
- No doubt.

But you make hearts beat
every night at the same hour.

You don't understand.
That's the beauty of it!

The wonder!
To feel and hear your heart
and the heart of the audience
beat at the same time.

How promiscuous!
If my heart starts
to beat loudly,

I take an unusual delight
in being the only one to hear it.