Gigi Quotes
Weary of the conventions of Parisian society, a rich playboy and a youthful courtesan-in-training enjoy a platonic friendship, but it may not stay platonic for long.
Gigi: I don't know what you want. You told Grandmamma...
Gaston Lachaille: I know what I told your grandmother. We don't have to repeat it. Just tell me simply what you don't want... and tell me what you do want.
Gigi: Do you mean that?
Gaston Lachaille: Of course.
Gigi: You told Grandmamma that you wanted to take care of me.
Gaston Lachaille: To take care of you beautifully.
Gigi: Beautifully. That is, if I like it. They've pounded into my head I'm backward for my age... but I know what all this means. To "take care of me beautifully" means I shall go away with you... and that I shall sleep in your bed.
Gaston Lachaille: Please, Gigi, I beg of you! You embarrass me!
Gigi: You weren't embarrassed to talk to Grandmamma about it. And Grandmamma wasn't embarrassed to talk to me about it. But I know more than she told me. To "take care of me" means that I shall have my photograph in the papers. That I shall go to the Riviera, to the races at Deauville. And when we fight, it will be in all the columns the next day. And then you'd give me up, as you did with Inèz des Cèvennes.
Gaston Lachaille: Who's been filling your head with all these old stories? How do you know about that?
Gigi: Why shouldn't I know? You're world famous. I know about the woman who stole from you, the Contessa who wanted to shoot you, the American who wanted to marry you. I know what everybody knows.
Gaston Lachaille: These aren't the things we have to talk about together! That's all in the past, over and done with!
Gigi: Yes, Gaston. Until it begins again.
Gaston Lachaille: I know what I told your grandmother. We don't have to repeat it. Just tell me simply what you don't want... and tell me what you do want.
Gigi: Do you mean that?
Gaston Lachaille: Of course.
Gigi: You told Grandmamma that you wanted to take care of me.
Gaston Lachaille: To take care of you beautifully.
Gigi: Beautifully. That is, if I like it. They've pounded into my head I'm backward for my age... but I know what all this means. To "take care of me beautifully" means I shall go away with you... and that I shall sleep in your bed.
Gaston Lachaille: Please, Gigi, I beg of you! You embarrass me!
Gigi: You weren't embarrassed to talk to Grandmamma about it. And Grandmamma wasn't embarrassed to talk to me about it. But I know more than she told me. To "take care of me" means that I shall have my photograph in the papers. That I shall go to the Riviera, to the races at Deauville. And when we fight, it will be in all the columns the next day. And then you'd give me up, as you did with Inèz des Cèvennes.
Gaston Lachaille: Who's been filling your head with all these old stories? How do you know about that?
Gigi: Why shouldn't I know? You're world famous. I know about the woman who stole from you, the Contessa who wanted to shoot you, the American who wanted to marry you. I know what everybody knows.
Gaston Lachaille: These aren't the things we have to talk about together! That's all in the past, over and done with!
Gigi: Yes, Gaston. Until it begins again.
[singing]
Honore Lachaille: Each time I see a little girl / of five or six or seven / I can't resist a joyous urge / to smile and say... / Thank Heaven for little girls / For little girls get bigger every day / Thank Heaven for little girls / They grow up in the most delightful way. / Those little eyes, / so helpless and appealing / when they were flashing / send you crashing through the ceiling / Thank Heaven for little girls / Thank Heaven for them all / No matter where, no matter who / Without them, what would little boys do? / Thank Heaven, thank Heaven / Thank Heaven for little girls...
Honore Lachaille: Each time I see a little girl / of five or six or seven / I can't resist a joyous urge / to smile and say... / Thank Heaven for little girls / For little girls get bigger every day / Thank Heaven for little girls / They grow up in the most delightful way. / Those little eyes, / so helpless and appealing / when they were flashing / send you crashing through the ceiling / Thank Heaven for little girls / Thank Heaven for them all / No matter where, no matter who / Without them, what would little boys do? / Thank Heaven, thank Heaven / Thank Heaven for little girls...
Gaston Lachaille: [singing] Oh Gigi! While you were trembling on the brink was I out yonder somewhere blinking at a star? / Oh Gigi! Have I been standing up too close or back too far? / When did your sparkle turn to fire, / And your warmth become desire? / Oh what miracle has made you the way you are? Gigi! Gigi! Gigi! Oh no! I was mad not to have seen the change in you! Oh, Gigi!
Honore Lachaille: I must tell you that you upset all my plans for the weekend! I came prepared for battle, and an old wound...
[points to his heart]
Honore Lachaille: ...prevented me from charging.
Madame Alvarez: I don't think she was your type anyway, Honore.
Honore Lachaille: You were watching me?
Madame Alvarez: Force of habit. When a pretty woman came by I always had to watch you.
[points to his heart]
Honore Lachaille: ...prevented me from charging.
Madame Alvarez: I don't think she was your type anyway, Honore.
Honore Lachaille: You were watching me?
Madame Alvarez: Force of habit. When a pretty woman came by I always had to watch you.
Gaston Lachaille: I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Uncle. Why didn't you come upstairs?
Honore Lachaille: I was afraid I'd meet my brother and sister-in-law.
Gaston Lachaille: You would have.
Honore Lachaille: I have to tell you... your parents bore me to death.
Gaston Lachaille: Me too.
Honore Lachaille: But I've known them longer, so they've been boring me longer.
Honore Lachaille: I was afraid I'd meet my brother and sister-in-law.
Gaston Lachaille: You would have.
Honore Lachaille: I have to tell you... your parents bore me to death.
Gaston Lachaille: Me too.
Honore Lachaille: But I've known them longer, so they've been boring me longer.
[last lines]
[after a long while, Gaston returns to Madame Alvarez's apartment]
Gaston Lachaille: May I come in?
[Gigi shrinks into a corner, hoping to be spared]
Madame Alvarez: Please, Gaston... no papers... no scandal.
Gaston Lachaille: Madame, will you do me the honour, the favour... give me the infinite joy of bestowing on me... Gigi's hand in marriage?
[Gigi, filled with relief and joy, draws to Gaston's side]
Madame Alvarez: [smiles] Thank Heaven!
["Thank Heaven for Little Girls" plays again]
[after a long while, Gaston returns to Madame Alvarez's apartment]
Gaston Lachaille: May I come in?
[Gigi shrinks into a corner, hoping to be spared]
Madame Alvarez: Please, Gaston... no papers... no scandal.
Gaston Lachaille: Madame, will you do me the honour, the favour... give me the infinite joy of bestowing on me... Gigi's hand in marriage?
[Gigi, filled with relief and joy, draws to Gaston's side]
Madame Alvarez: [smiles] Thank Heaven!
["Thank Heaven for Little Girls" plays again]
Gaston Lachaille: [Gaston speculates on the unfaithfulness of his mistress Liane] She's so gay tonight / She's like spring tonight / She's a rollicking, frolicking thing tonight / So disarming, soft and charming / She is not thinking of me / No, she's not thinking of me! In her eyes tonight / There's a glow tonight / They're so bright they could light Fountainbleu tonight / She's so gracious, so vivacious / She is not thinking of me! Bless her little heart / Crooked to the core / Acting out a part / What a rollicking, frolicking bore! She's such fun tonight / She's a treat tonight / You could spread her on bread, she's so sweet tonight / So devoted, sugar-coated / That it's heart-warming to see / Oh, she's simmering with love / Oh, she's shimmering with love / Oh, she's not thinking of me! She is not thinking of me! / Someone has set her on fire / Is it Jacques? Is it Paul or Leon? / Who's turning her furnace up higher? / Oh she's hot, but it's not for Gaston! Oh, she's gay tonight / Oh, so gay tonight / A gigantic, romantic cliché tonight / How she blushes, how she gushes / How she fills me with ennui! / She's so ooh-la-la-la-la, so UNTRUE-la-la-la-la / Oh, she's not thinking of me!
Gaston Lachaille: Imagine this if you can! Here is a girl, living in a mouldy apartment: decaying walls, worm-ridden furniture, surrounded by filth...
Honore Lachaille: You're ruining my lunch!
Gaston Lachaille: My heart was touched. I wanted to help her. I offered her everything: house, car, servants, clothes, and me!
Honore Lachaille: And...?
Gaston Lachaille: She turned me down.
Honore Lachaille: Turned you down?
Gaston Lachaille: Turned me down!
Honore Lachaille: It is impossible!
Gaston Lachaille: It is not impossible, it just happened! I was refused, rejected, rebuffed and... repudiated!
Honore Lachaille: You're ruining my lunch!
Gaston Lachaille: My heart was touched. I wanted to help her. I offered her everything: house, car, servants, clothes, and me!
Honore Lachaille: And...?
Gaston Lachaille: She turned me down.
Honore Lachaille: Turned you down?
Gaston Lachaille: Turned me down!
Honore Lachaille: It is impossible!
Gaston Lachaille: It is not impossible, it just happened! I was refused, rejected, rebuffed and... repudiated!
Honore Lachaille: I'll tell you about that blue villa, Mamita. I was so much in love with you, I wanted to marry you. Yes, it's true. I was beginning to think of marriage. Imagine, marriage, ME! Oh, no! I was really desperate! I had to do something. And what I did was the soprano!
Madame Alvarez: Thank you, Honore. That was the most charming and endearing excuse for infidelity I've ever heard.
Madame Alvarez: Thank you, Honore. That was the most charming and endearing excuse for infidelity I've ever heard.
[Gaston, outraged by the comments made about Gigi, drags her out of Maxim's]
Gigi: But I don't want to go home, Gaston! Let me go! What did I do, Gaston? What did I do?
[Gaston arrives at Madame Alverez's home, angrily raps on the door and throws Gigi into Alvarez's shocked arms]
Madame Alvarez: Gigi! What happened?
[Gaston leaves; Gigi bursts into tears]
Gigi: But I don't want to go home, Gaston! Let me go! What did I do, Gaston? What did I do?
[Gaston arrives at Madame Alverez's home, angrily raps on the door and throws Gigi into Alvarez's shocked arms]
Madame Alvarez: Gigi! What happened?
[Gaston leaves; Gigi bursts into tears]
Honore Lachaille: Don't you marvel at the power / of the mighty Eiffel Tower / knowing there it will remain evermore? / Climbing up to the sky / over ninety stories high!
Gaston Lachaille: How many stories?
Honore Lachaille: Ninety!
Gaston Lachaille: How many yesterday?
Honore Lachaille: Ninety!
Gaston Lachaille: And tomorrow?
Honore Lachaille: Ninety!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Gaston Lachaille: How many stories?
Honore Lachaille: Ninety!
Gaston Lachaille: How many yesterday?
Honore Lachaille: Ninety!
Gaston Lachaille: And tomorrow?
Honore Lachaille: Ninety!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: Did she send a note?
Gaston Lachaille: Obviously.
Honore Lachaille: Oh, good, good! Did you have to change the arrangements?
Gaston Lachaille: Don't be vulgar.
Honore Lachaille: Ah, well, she's a wonderful girl, Gigi. So young, so fresh, so vulgar. She's not sophisticated like most other woman are, but then what do sophisticated women have to offer? Nothing! They are boring, they have no surprises! But a liaison with someone like Gigi can last for months!
Gaston Lachaille: Good night. Good night!
Gaston Lachaille: Obviously.
Honore Lachaille: Oh, good, good! Did you have to change the arrangements?
Gaston Lachaille: Don't be vulgar.
Honore Lachaille: Ah, well, she's a wonderful girl, Gigi. So young, so fresh, so vulgar. She's not sophisticated like most other woman are, but then what do sophisticated women have to offer? Nothing! They are boring, they have no surprises! But a liaison with someone like Gigi can last for months!
Gaston Lachaille: Good night. Good night!
Gaston Lachaille: [having broken off with Liane] I've been weighing the idea of going to the country for a while.
Honore Lachaille: You mean, leave Paris?
Gaston Lachaille: Yes. Why not?
Honore Lachaille: Why not? That's the one thing you mustn't do. Do you want people to think you're despondent? Disturbed? If you leave, they will, you know. No, no. That would be snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. No, no, no. For the next few weeks, you should be out every night. Maxim's, Moulin Rouge, Pre Catalan.
Gaston Lachaille: The Pre Catalan is closed.
Honore Lachaille: Open it! You must be carefree. Devil-may-care. A different girl every night. Keep them guessing who's next. Play the game. Be gay, extravagant, outrageous!
Honore Lachaille: You mean, leave Paris?
Gaston Lachaille: Yes. Why not?
Honore Lachaille: Why not? That's the one thing you mustn't do. Do you want people to think you're despondent? Disturbed? If you leave, they will, you know. No, no. That would be snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. No, no, no. For the next few weeks, you should be out every night. Maxim's, Moulin Rouge, Pre Catalan.
Gaston Lachaille: The Pre Catalan is closed.
Honore Lachaille: Open it! You must be carefree. Devil-may-care. A different girl every night. Keep them guessing who's next. Play the game. Be gay, extravagant, outrageous!
[first lines]
[Honore walks through Paris and greets the viewer]
Honore Lachaille: Good afternoon! As you see, this lovely city all around us is Paris, and this lovely park is of course the Bois de Boulogne. Who am I? Well, allow me to introduce myself: I am Honore Lachaille. Born: Paris. When...
[laughs]
Honore Lachaille: ...not lately. This is 1900, so let's just say not in this century. Circumstances: comfortable. Profession: lover, and collector of beautiful things. Not antiques mind you, younger things.
[an elderly woman passes by]
Honore Lachaille: Yes, definitely younger. Married: what for? Now please don't misunderstand. Like everywhere else, most people in Paris get married, but not all. There are some who will not marry, and some who do not marry. But in Paris, those who will not marry are usually men, and those who do not marry are usually women.
[begins to sing]
Honore Lachaille: Now for example here we find / Exhibit A, the married kind. / These ladies stood their ground and won / and I salute them, every one. / Here are some others to behold / for whom the bells have never tolled. / Oh, what a poor defenseless pair / in those pathetic rags they wear...
[Honore walks through Paris and greets the viewer]
Honore Lachaille: Good afternoon! As you see, this lovely city all around us is Paris, and this lovely park is of course the Bois de Boulogne. Who am I? Well, allow me to introduce myself: I am Honore Lachaille. Born: Paris. When...
[laughs]
Honore Lachaille: ...not lately. This is 1900, so let's just say not in this century. Circumstances: comfortable. Profession: lover, and collector of beautiful things. Not antiques mind you, younger things.
[an elderly woman passes by]
Honore Lachaille: Yes, definitely younger. Married: what for? Now please don't misunderstand. Like everywhere else, most people in Paris get married, but not all. There are some who will not marry, and some who do not marry. But in Paris, those who will not marry are usually men, and those who do not marry are usually women.
[begins to sing]
Honore Lachaille: Now for example here we find / Exhibit A, the married kind. / These ladies stood their ground and won / and I salute them, every one. / Here are some others to behold / for whom the bells have never tolled. / Oh, what a poor defenseless pair / in those pathetic rags they wear...
[Aunt Alicia proudly displays a dazzling emerald from her collection]
Gigi: Who gave it to you, Aunt?
Aunt Alicia: A king!
Gigi: A great king?
Aunt Alicia: No, a little one. Great kings do not give very large stones.
Gigi: Why not?
Aunt Alicia: In my opinion it's because they don't feel they have to.
Gigi: Well, who does give the valuable jewels?
Aunt Alicia: Who? Oh the shy, the proud, and the social climbers, because they think it's a sign of culture. But it doesn't matter who gives them, as long as you never wear anything second-rate. Wait for the first-class jewels, Gigi. Hold on to your ideals.
Gigi: Who gave it to you, Aunt?
Aunt Alicia: A king!
Gigi: A great king?
Aunt Alicia: No, a little one. Great kings do not give very large stones.
Gigi: Why not?
Aunt Alicia: In my opinion it's because they don't feel they have to.
Gigi: Well, who does give the valuable jewels?
Aunt Alicia: Who? Oh the shy, the proud, and the social climbers, because they think it's a sign of culture. But it doesn't matter who gives them, as long as you never wear anything second-rate. Wait for the first-class jewels, Gigi. Hold on to your ideals.
[Gigi prepares for her night with Gaston]
Gigi: Say a prayer for me tonight / I'll need every prayer that you can spare / To get me by... Say a prayer / And while you're praying, keep on saying / "She's much too young to die..." "On to your Waterloo," whispers my heart / Pray I'll be Wellington, not Bonaparte... Oh, say a prayer for me this evening / Bow your head, and please stay on your knees / Tonight...
Gigi: Say a prayer for me tonight / I'll need every prayer that you can spare / To get me by... Say a prayer / And while you're praying, keep on saying / "She's much too young to die..." "On to your Waterloo," whispers my heart / Pray I'll be Wellington, not Bonaparte... Oh, say a prayer for me this evening / Bow your head, and please stay on your knees / Tonight...
[singing]
Honore Lachaille: Poor boy! Poor boy! / Downhearted and depressed and in a spin! / Poor boy! Poor boy! / Oh, youth can really do a fellow in! How lovely to sit here in the shade / with none of the woes of man and maid / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... The rivals that don't exist at all / The feeling you're only two feet tall / I'm glad that I'm not young anymore... / No more confusion / No morning-after surprise / No self-delusion / That when you're telling those lies / she isn't wise / And even if love comes through the door / the chance that goes on forevermore / Forevermore is shorter than before / Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not young anymore... / The tiny remark that tortures you / The fear that your friends won't like her too / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... / The longing to end the stale affair / until you find out she doesn't care / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... / No more frustration / No star-crossed lover am I / No aggravation / Just one reluctant reply / "Lady, goodbye!" The Fountain of Youth is dull as paint / Methuselah is my patron saint / I've never been so comfortable before / Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not young anymore...
Honore Lachaille: Poor boy! Poor boy! / Downhearted and depressed and in a spin! / Poor boy! Poor boy! / Oh, youth can really do a fellow in! How lovely to sit here in the shade / with none of the woes of man and maid / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... The rivals that don't exist at all / The feeling you're only two feet tall / I'm glad that I'm not young anymore... / No more confusion / No morning-after surprise / No self-delusion / That when you're telling those lies / she isn't wise / And even if love comes through the door / the chance that goes on forevermore / Forevermore is shorter than before / Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not young anymore... / The tiny remark that tortures you / The fear that your friends won't like her too / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... / The longing to end the stale affair / until you find out she doesn't care / I'm glad I'm not young anymore... / No more frustration / No star-crossed lover am I / No aggravation / Just one reluctant reply / "Lady, goodbye!" The Fountain of Youth is dull as paint / Methuselah is my patron saint / I've never been so comfortable before / Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not young anymore...
[Gaston sees Gigi dressed in an alluring white gown]
Gigi: Look, Gaston! Four yards of material in the skirt! Well, don't I look great ladyish?
Gaston Lachaille: You look like an organ-grinder's monkey!
Gigi: An organ-grinder's monkey?
Gaston Lachaille: What happened to your little Scotch dress? And that ridiculous collar!
Gigi: And what's wrong with that collar?
Gaston Lachaille: It makes you look like a giraffe with a goiter!
Gigi: With all the talk there is about you, Gaston, I've never heard it said you had any taste in clothes!
Gigi: Look, Gaston! Four yards of material in the skirt! Well, don't I look great ladyish?
Gaston Lachaille: You look like an organ-grinder's monkey!
Gigi: An organ-grinder's monkey?
Gaston Lachaille: What happened to your little Scotch dress? And that ridiculous collar!
Gigi: And what's wrong with that collar?
Gaston Lachaille: It makes you look like a giraffe with a goiter!
Gigi: With all the talk there is about you, Gaston, I've never heard it said you had any taste in clothes!
Honore Lachaille: How often I've thought of that Friday...
Madame Alvarez: Monday...
Honore Lachaille: ...night, when we had our last rendezvous. / And somehow I've foolishly wondered if you might by some chance be thinking of it too? That carriage ride...
Madame Alvarez: You walked me home.
Honore Lachaille: You lost a glove.
Madame Alvarez: I lost a comb.
Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...
Madame Alvarez: Monday...
Honore Lachaille: ...night, when we had our last rendezvous. / And somehow I've foolishly wondered if you might by some chance be thinking of it too? That carriage ride...
Madame Alvarez: You walked me home.
Honore Lachaille: You lost a glove.
Madame Alvarez: I lost a comb.
Honore Lachaille: Ah, yes, I remember it well...
[singing]
Gigi: I don't understand the Parisians / Making love every time they get the chance / I don't understand the Parisians / Wasting every lovely night on romance! Any time and under every tree in town / They're in session two by two / What a crime with all there is to see in town / They can't find something else to do! I don't understand how Parisians / Never tire of walking hand in hand / They seem to love it, and speak highly of it. / I don't understand the Parisians! When it's warm, they take a carriage ride at night / Close their eyes and hug and kiss / When it's cold, they simply move inside at night / There must be more to life than this! I don't understand the Parisians / Thinking love so miraculous and grand / But they rave about it, and won't live without it / I don't understand the Parisians!
Gigi: I don't understand the Parisians / Making love every time they get the chance / I don't understand the Parisians / Wasting every lovely night on romance! Any time and under every tree in town / They're in session two by two / What a crime with all there is to see in town / They can't find something else to do! I don't understand how Parisians / Never tire of walking hand in hand / They seem to love it, and speak highly of it. / I don't understand the Parisians! When it's warm, they take a carriage ride at night / Close their eyes and hug and kiss / When it's cold, they simply move inside at night / There must be more to life than this! I don't understand the Parisians / Thinking love so miraculous and grand / But they rave about it, and won't live without it / I don't understand the Parisians!
[singing]
Gigi: What time tomorrow will we get there? / Can I watch you play roulette? / May I stay up late for supper? / Is it awfully awfully upper?
Madame Alvarez: Gigi, you'll drive us wild! / Stop, you silly child!
Gigi: Is everybody celebrated, / full of sin and dissipated? / Is it hot enough to blister? / Will I be your little sister?
Madame Alvarez: Gigi, you are absurd! / Now not another word! Gigi!
Gaston Lachaille: Let her gush and jabber, / let her be enthused! / I cannot remember / when I have been more amused!
Madame Alvarez: Stop it!
Gigi: The night they invented champagne, / it's plain as it can be / they thought of you and me. / The night they invented champagne, / they absolutely knew / that all we'd want to do / is fly to the sky on champagne / And shout to everyone in sight / that since the world began / no woman or a man / has ever been as happy as we are tonight!
Gaston Lachaille: The night they invented champagne...
[pops a cork]
Gigi, Gaston Lachaille: ...It's plain as it can be / they thought of you and me. / The night they invented champagne / they absolutely knew / that all we'd want to do / Is fly to the sky on champagne / and shout to everyone in sight
[pops another cork]
Gigi, Gaston Lachaille: That since the world began / no woman or a man / has ever been as happy as we are tonight!
[a cork is popped]
Gigi: What time tomorrow will we get there? / Can I watch you play roulette? / May I stay up late for supper? / Is it awfully awfully upper?
Madame Alvarez: Gigi, you'll drive us wild! / Stop, you silly child!
Gigi: Is everybody celebrated, / full of sin and dissipated? / Is it hot enough to blister? / Will I be your little sister?
Madame Alvarez: Gigi, you are absurd! / Now not another word! Gigi!
Gaston Lachaille: Let her gush and jabber, / let her be enthused! / I cannot remember / when I have been more amused!
Madame Alvarez: Stop it!
Gigi: The night they invented champagne, / it's plain as it can be / they thought of you and me. / The night they invented champagne, / they absolutely knew / that all we'd want to do / is fly to the sky on champagne / And shout to everyone in sight / that since the world began / no woman or a man / has ever been as happy as we are tonight!
Gaston Lachaille: The night they invented champagne...
[pops a cork]
Gigi, Gaston Lachaille: ...It's plain as it can be / they thought of you and me. / The night they invented champagne / they absolutely knew / that all we'd want to do / Is fly to the sky on champagne / and shout to everyone in sight
[pops another cork]
Gigi, Gaston Lachaille: That since the world began / no woman or a man / has ever been as happy as we are tonight!
[a cork is popped]
Gaston Lachaille: [singing] She's a babe! / Just a babe! / Still cavorting in her crib / Eating breakfast with a bib / with her baby teeth / and all her baby curls! / She's a tot! / Just a tot! / Good for bouncing on your knee! / I am positive that she / doesn't even know that boys aren't girls! / She's a snip! / Just a snip! / Making dreadful baby noise, / having fun with all her toys! / Just a chickadee who needs a mother hen! / She's a cub, a papoose! / You could never turn her loose! / She's too infantile to take her from her pen! / Of course, that weekend in Trouville, / in spite of all her youthful zeal, / she was exceedingly polite / and on the whole a sheer delight. / And if it wasn't joy galore, / at least not once was she a bore, / that I recall. / No, not at all... / Ah, she's a child! / A silly child! / Adolescent to her toes / and good Heaven how it shows / Sticky thumbs are all the fingers she has got! / She's a child! / A clumsy child! / She's as swollen as a grape / and she doesn't have a shape / where her figure ought to be, / It is not! / Just a child! / A growing child / that's so backward for her years, / if a boy her age appears / I am certain he will never call again! / She's a scamp and a brat, / doesn't know where she is at, / unequipped and undesirable to men! / Of course, I must confess / that in that brand new little dress, / she looked surprisingly mature / and had a definite allure. / It was a shock in fact to me, / the most amazing shock to see / the way it clung / on one, so young! / She's a girl, / a little girl! / Getting older, it is true, / which is what they always do / till that unexpected hour / when they blossom like a flower! Oh, no! Oh, no! But... but... there's sweeter music when she speaks, isn't there? / Could I be wrong? Could it be so? / Oh where, oh where did Gigi go? / Gigi! Am I a fool without a mind or have I merely been too blind to realize? / Oh Gigi! Why you've been growing up before my very eyes / Gigi! You're not at all that funny, awkward little girl, I knew / oh no! Overnight there's been a breathless change in you...
Gaston Lachaille: It's the same dull world where ever you go, whatever place you are at / The earth is round, but everything on it is flat!
Honore Lachaille: Don't tell me Venice has no lure!
Gaston Lachaille: Just a town without a sewer.
Honore Lachaille: The Leaning Tower I adore!
Gaston Lachaille: Indecision is a bore!
Honore Lachaille: But think of the thrill of a bull fight in Seville / when the bull is uncontrolled / and he challenges the bold matador!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: Don't tell me Venice has no lure!
Gaston Lachaille: Just a town without a sewer.
Honore Lachaille: The Leaning Tower I adore!
Gaston Lachaille: Indecision is a bore!
Honore Lachaille: But think of the thrill of a bull fight in Seville / when the bull is uncontrolled / and he challenges the bold matador!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: Look at all the captivating / fascinating things there are to do!
Gaston Lachaille: Name two.
Honore Lachaille: Look at the pleasures / of the myriad of treasures / we have got!
Gaston Lachaille: Like what?
Honore Lachaille: Look at Paris in the spring / when each solitary thing / is more beautiful than ever before! / You can hear every tree / almost saying "Look at me!"
Gaston Lachaille: What color are the trees?
Honore Lachaille: Green!
Gaston Lachaille: What color were they last year?
Honore Lachaille: Green!
Gaston Lachaille: And next year?
Honore Lachaille: Green!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Gaston Lachaille: Name two.
Honore Lachaille: Look at the pleasures / of the myriad of treasures / we have got!
Gaston Lachaille: Like what?
Honore Lachaille: Look at Paris in the spring / when each solitary thing / is more beautiful than ever before! / You can hear every tree / almost saying "Look at me!"
Gaston Lachaille: What color are the trees?
Honore Lachaille: Green!
Gaston Lachaille: What color were they last year?
Honore Lachaille: Green!
Gaston Lachaille: And next year?
Honore Lachaille: Green!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
[singing about how to deal with Liane]
Honore Lachaille: Just imagine her chagrin / when she sees you wander in/ And you find her with that slippery senor / What a moment supreme / when she totters with a scream...!
Gaston Lachaille: What will she do?
Honore Lachaille: Scream!
Gaston Lachaille: What did yours do?
Honore Lachaille: Scream!
Gaston Lachaille: What do they all do?
Honore Lachaille: Scream!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: But think of the bliss / of the pleasure you would miss / When she topples in a heap / and you leave her there to weep on the floor...
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: You must catch her if you can!
Manuel: For the dignity of man!
Honore Lachaille: Take advantage of the chance!
Manuel: You owe it, sir, to France!
Honore Lachaille, Manuel: This is war!
Gaston Lachaille: All right! But it's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: Just imagine her chagrin / when she sees you wander in/ And you find her with that slippery senor / What a moment supreme / when she totters with a scream...!
Gaston Lachaille: What will she do?
Honore Lachaille: Scream!
Gaston Lachaille: What did yours do?
Honore Lachaille: Scream!
Gaston Lachaille: What do they all do?
Honore Lachaille: Scream!
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: But think of the bliss / of the pleasure you would miss / When she topples in a heap / and you leave her there to weep on the floor...
Gaston Lachaille: It's a bore!
Honore Lachaille: You must catch her if you can!
Manuel: For the dignity of man!
Honore Lachaille: Take advantage of the chance!
Manuel: You owe it, sir, to France!
Honore Lachaille, Manuel: This is war!
Gaston Lachaille: All right! But it's a bore!
