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[Everything is spoken] RAOUL Madame Giry, wait. . . GIRY Please, Monsieur - I know no more than anyone else. RAOUL That's not true. GIRY (uneasily) Please, Monsieur, don't ask, there have been too many accidents . . . RAOUL (ironical) Accidents?! Please, Madame Giry, for all our sakes . . . GIRY Very well. It was years ago. There was a traveling fair in the city. The gypsies. I was very young, studying to be a ballerina. One of many living in the dormitories of the opera house. Scary woman: See the wonder from the East! Cruel man. Come. Come. Come inside. Come and see The Devil's Child. Cruel man. You damn demon!(Beats) Villain! (beats) Ne'er do-well! (Beats) Libertine! (Beats) Dangerous! (Beats) Hideous! (Beats) Monstrous! (Beats) BEAST! (Beats very hard) Cruel Man. Behold, Mesdames and messieurs, the Devil's Child! Man: Murder! Policeman: Which way?! Man: That way! That way! Policeman: He's getting away! GIRY: (Narrating the story) I hid him from the world, and its cruelties. Young Giry. If you stay in here, you are safe. Young Erik. Thank you so much, young lady. GIRY: He has known nothing else of life since then except this opera house. I called him Erik. It was his playground and now his artistic domain, he's a genius. He's an architect and designer, he's…composer and a…magician. A genius, Monsieur! ROUL: But clearly, Madame Giry, genius has turned to madness. |