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: The angel sees, the angel knows. Raoul
: Why did Christine fly from my arms?
: He welcomes you to his opera house... Firmin
: His opera house? Madame Giry
: ...and commands that you continue to leave box 5 empty for his use. And reminds you that his salary is due. Firmin
: His salary? Madame Giry
: Well, Monsieur Lefevre used to give him 20,000 francs a month. Firmin
: [grabs note from Andre
] 20,000 francs? Madame Giry
: Perhaps you can afford more? With the Vicomte as your patron? Firmin
: Madame, I had hoped to make that announcement public tonight when the Vicomte was to join us for the gala. But obviously we shall now have to cancel, as it appears we have lost our star. A full house, Andre. We shall have to refund a full house! Madame Giry
: Christine Daae could sing it, sir. Andre
: A chorus girl? Don't be silly.
: Those who speak of what they know / learn too late that prudent silence is wise / Joseph Buquet, hold your tongue! / Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!
: We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballet, monsieur. Andre
: I see why.
[looking at Meg Giry
: Especially that little blonde angel! Madame Giry
: My daughter, Meg Giry. Firmin
: [looking at Christine
] And THAT exceptional beauty? No relation, I trust? Madame Giry
: Christine Daaé. Promising talent, Monsieur Firmin, very promising. Andre
: Daaé, did you say? N-n-no relation to the famous Swedish violinist? Madame Giry
: His only child. Orphaned at seven, when she came to live and trained in the ballet dormitories. Firmin
: An orphan, you say? Madame Giry
: I think of her as a daughter also.
: [about Christine
] Let her sing for you, monsieur; she has been well taught. Andre
: All right. Come on.
[Christine is reluctant
: Don't be shy. Come on. Come along... just... just... Reyer
] From the beginning of the aria, then. Please, mademoiselle! Firmin
: Andre, this is doing nothing for my nerves. Andre
: Oh, but she's very pretty.
: [about the Phantom
] He's a genius. He's an architect and designer, he's a composer and magician... a genius, monsieur! Raoul
: ...but clearly, Madame Giry, genius has turned to madness.
: Keep your hand at the level of your eye.
: I have a message from the Opera Ghost. Firmin
: Oh, God in Heaven, you're all obsessed!