Original subtitles

Holifart whatastink!

Don't these people ever wash?

The papers say under 11% of Paris apartments have bathrooms.

Okay, but people could wash all the same.

This bunch doesn't make much of an effort.

They're not even Paris's prize stinkers.

No, they're gathered here by chance.

People at the East Station

can't smell worse than those at the Lyons Station.

No reason they should.

Still, what a stench!

Who stinks like that?

That, little lady, is "Bodyguard," a perfume by Fior.

There oughta be a law against fouling the air!

Jeanne!

I'm Zazie. You my unc?

Me in person. I'm your unc.

- You smell funny. - It's "Bodyguard" by Fior.

- Dab some behind my ears? - It's for men.

Hi, little bro.

You're sweet to baby-sit.

She's in good hands.

I'll meet you right here day after tomorrow

for the 6:60 a.m. train.

Natürlich!

How's your wife?

Fine. Come see us?

No time!

When Mom's got a new squeeze, it's so long, family!

Bye, honey! Bye, Gaby!

Bye, Mom!

She's got it bad.

Let's get going.

We taking the metro, Unc?

Whaddya mean? - I mean no! We got Charlie's hack.

I got a confession stuck in my craw.

It's confessionitis.

I'll say nothing of my youth.

It ain't free, I tell ya!

I'm waiting for my pal.

Here's my pal, Gabriel. See?

Hi there, kid.

What a crummy old heap!

If you don't like it -

- Get in and don't be snotty. - Snotty, my ass!

Your niece is a hoot.

Oh, damgoddit!

ON STRIKE

Bastards! To pull this on me!

- It's not just you. - Don't care!

I was all excited to ride the metro!

Hell and damnation! - That's life.

- When's the strike over? - Dunno. I don't do politics.

It ain't politics. It's about bucks.

- Mister, you ever go on strike? - Gotta, to get fares hiked.

You oughta pay people to ride in this stinking crate!

Ah, Paris! What a beautiful town!

Look, Zazie!

The Panthéon. - Come off it!

That's not the Panthéon?

No, that is not the Panthéon!

- Then what? - Dunno, but it's not the Panthéon.

- We'll ask a passerby. - They're all morons.

That's for sure.

I got it! That was the Madeleine.

Maybe, but it's ancient history now.

Now there's a swell piece of architecture!

The Invalides.

You're way off. It might be the Gendarmerie.

Say, Unc, when you guys spout crap, you do it on purpose?

All the better to make you laugh, my child.

Truth is, sometimes it's on poipose, sometimes not.

Pull my leg, will ya? You're two old farts!

- Hear that? - It's the new wave!

Take your new wave and -

Zazie, if you really wanna see the Invalides

and the true tomb of the real Napoleon, I'll take you.

Napoleon, my ass! That dumb cluck and his stupid hat!

- Whatcha wanna see, then? - Yeah, what?

The metro!

There's your metro!

The metro's underground! Who ya tryin' to kid?

- That's the el. - Then it's not the metro.

Lemme eggsplain.

Sometimes it comes up, then it re-returns under.

- Bull. You never tell the truth. - The truth?

As if you knew what truth was.

As if anybody knew.

It's all a lot of hooey.

The Panthéon, the Invalides, the Gendarmerie, the Madeleine -

all a lot of hooey!

What a shame!

A crying shame!

What's that?

Search me.

Isn't she a doll?

So, kid, glad to be in Paris?

Well, I never!

Mr. Charles, you're a melancholic.

Melancholic, my ass!

Goddammit to hell!

I won't stand for a little bitch who spouts

"obscelenities" like that!

She'll corrupt the neighborhood!

Yackety-yak! All you do is yak!

Dinner's ready.

Consommé!

Don't let's exaggerate.

So, child...

aren't we tired? Aren't we sleepy?

Who's we?

You, naturally.

When's bedtime at home?

Home and here are two different things, right?

You just saying yes, or do you mean it?

Hear that, Albertine?

See how kids her age reason?

Why send 'em to school?

I'll go to school till I'm 65.

Sixty-five?

Sure, I'll be a teacher.

Not a bad job. You get a pension.

Pension, my ass. It's not for the pension.

Then why do you wanna teach?

To drive those brats nuts.

The ones who'll be my age in 10, 20, 100, 1,000 years!

I'll make their lives hell!

Make 'em eat chalk!

Jab compasses in their rear!

I'll kick their behinds!

I'll wear boots with spurs

to tear their butts to shreds!

From what the papers say,

the trend in modern education is more towards gentleness...

kindness...

understanding.

Isn't that so, Albertine?

They treat you bad at school?

Just let 'em try!

In 20 years, there won't be teachers anymore.

They'll all be replaced by movies, TV,

electronics, stuff like that.

That was in the paper the other day too.

Wasn't it, Albertine?

Yes, it was.

Then I'll be an astronaut.

That's more like it.

I'll drive the Martians nuts!

The kid's got ambition.

- Take me to the Cinemascope? - Can't. I start work at 11:00.

- I can go with Auntie. - I say no.

She never goes out without me.

You got soft skin.

She dropped right off to sleep.

But tomorrow -

She'd better not wake me.

Kids get up early,

but I need my beauty sleep.

Ten hours minimum is essential.

Yackety-yak! All you do is yak!

Yackety-yak, my ass!

Wanna repeat that?

I said, "Yackety-yak, my ass!"

What are you insinuating, if I may ask?

I'm insinuating that I don't like that kid here!

Whether you like it or like it not,

I don't give a crap!

Don't you start talking

like your niece!

How can anyone be as unintelligent as you!

Know what "unintelligent" means, you moron?

- Here we go! - Go where?

You've become real foul-mouthed!

He's starting to get on my nerves.

I won't have a brat like that in my house!

How's that?

I won't have that little bitch in my house!

Can't a body get any sleep?

What's all this mess?

Yackety-yak.

All you do is yak.

It's ruined.

- I'll buy you a new one. - That's sweet.

But not pigskin.

What would you like? Box calf?

Shagreen?

Russian leather?

Lizard?

Alligator?

That's expensive.

But durable and smart.

See your aunt? She's kindness itself.

What's he doing here?

He's the landlord.

A great landlord. A real pal.

He's kindness itself.

- Kindness, my ass! - I heard that "my ass"!

Move it, and no "obscelenities"!

It's not me, it's her!

Tattletale!

You forgot your lipstick.

Hey, kid!

Zazie!

Come back here!

Come back here right this minute!

Where are you off to?

Get down here right now!

I said get down here!

Help! Help!

Don't let that nasty man take me! I don't even know him!

He said things to me! - Like what?

The child is a runaway. I'm taking her home.

Tell me what the naughty man said.

I'm afraid to.

What did he want?

Scum!

What did he want?

That's a new one on me!

Can you believe it?

A real bastard!

I don't get it.

One day my husband wanted me to -

I don't know where he got that idea.

So I says, "If you expect me to...

go take a flying -"

Damgoddit!

I just got the fright of my life!

Quit playing the St. Bernard.

Damgoddit!

Well, they didn't kill you.

Damgoddit!

The kid skedaddled.

The kid skedaddled?

- They took me for a lech! - Scared?

More than during the air raids.

Air raids never scared me.

British bombs weren't meant for me. I rooted for the Brits.

They didn't scare me either.

No, so they never hit me.

I went out to enjoy the fireworks.

Wham! Bull's-eye! A munitions dump up in smoke!

- A station blown sky-high! - A factory in smithereens!

The whole town in flames. A helluva show!

The good old days.

What is it, little girl? Somebody hurt you?

Is it that bad? - Oh, yes, sir!

You poor, poor child.

Tell me what's wrong.

Your parents beat you?

Lose something you'll catch hell for?

Tell me all about it. You can trust me.

Why should I trust you?

Because I love children.

Little girls and little boys.

You're a dirty old man!

Not at all.

During the occupation,

the black market got me nothing but trouble.

I got hit with everything:

fines, inspections, requisitions. Just my luck!

But I inherited this joint.

Then stop whining. You've got it made.

- What's this? - The flea market.

This where you buy

"rembrans" cheap, peddle 'em to Yanks and go home loaded?

Not only Rembrandts. Soles, lavender, nails too.

- And US army surplus? - Sure.

And good French fries. Made the same morning.

- I like army surplus. - They got mussels, too.

That don't make you sick. - And blew-genes?

- Sure. Compasses too. - Screw compasses.

I want blew-genes.

Let's go take a look.

You're subtle as a bulldozer.

Got any blue jeans for the kid?

Sure do.

SECONDHAND

I got everything here...

from rubber dinghies to fishing rods.

Here's a pair she'll never wear out.

So what? She'll outgrow them by next year.

- Then her kid sister? - She's got none.

Next year she might.

Don't joke. Her poor momma's dead.

If I understand correctly,

these are US army surplus blue jeans?

Natürlich!

The Yanks had little tykes in their army?

Sure they did. It takes all kinds to fight a war.

How much are these?

I'll throw 'em in free with the blue jeans.

MUSSELS AND FRIES

Hungry?

Want a bite to eat?

Some mussels? Or fries?

Both.

A glass of white wine.

Incredible!

What a slowpoke! My Pop would've downed

ten glasses by now.

- Your Pop drink a lot? - He did. He's dead.

Were you sad when he died?

No time, with all that was going on.

Like what?

Hey, my mussels!

Remember the dressmaker from Saint-Montron

who hit her husband over the head with a hatchet?

Don't you read the papers?

Pathetic! And you wanna have a conversation?

The dressmaker was Mom.

And the husband, naturally, was Pop.

It made a big stink.

Mom hired a hotshot lawyer from Paris.

Someone who don't talk natural. A real asshole.

But he got her off, easy.

They even gave Mom an ovation.

Almost paraded her through the streets.

Not interested? - Not particularly.

You're a shifty one.

Don't sulk.

I'll tell you my story.

I'm all ears.

Well, Mom couldn't stomach Pop.

It got Pop down, and he started hitting the bottle.

You following me?

Good. I'm getting there.

It happened last year.

One Sunday in October.

I remember it well.

I was just back from soccer.

Pop was alone in the house.

All alone, waiting.

Not waiting for anything in particular.

Just waiting.

He was all alone, just waiting.

So I come in.

Pop is drunk as a skunk.

He starts kissing me.

Why not? He's my Pop.

It was terrific.

Suddenly, the door opens softly.

You see, Mom had told him,

"I'm going out to buy spaghetti and pork chops."

But it was to trick him.

Smart cookie, eh?

So she slips in, real quiet.

Pop's mind is elsewhere.

And that's how he ended up in heaven!

Still, Mom got off scot-free.

They congratulated her.

Don't that take the cake?

Don't it? - Oh, sure!

Help! Help!

Don't let the nasty man take me!

- What'd he say? - Things.

You little thief!

She swiped these blue jeans from my shop.

- Little crook! - Disgusting!

Didn't she ever learn property is sacred?

What if I take you to the police?

You'll end up in jail!

Sir, have pity on the child.

She's not responsible for the bad upbringing she likely had.

Perhaps hunger drove her to it.

Do not be too hard - not too hard - on her.

Haven't you ever been hungry?

Hungry? Lady, I was an orphan.

We'll see what your parents say.

Unc, a cop wants to see you.

So you're a cop?

Not on your life. I'm just a simple peddler.

They call me Pedro Surplus.

Don't believe him. He's a cop.

The child is joking.

Don't talk without your lawyer.

She thinks I'm dumb. Kids today!

No respect for their elders.

The crap you have to listen to. I'd rather leave.

- So you exploit little girls? - Me, sir?

Yes, you. She was working the flea market.

Well, I'll be!

What's your line of work?

Entertainer.

The kid said you were a night watchman.

I told the kid a white lie.

What kind of entertainer?

Spanish ballerina.

- So you're a - - Not at all.

Okay, so I dance in drag in a nightclub. That means nothing.

Strictly for laughs.

With my build, you see -

How do I look, Albertine?

...and hormosessuality, to boot!

What's a hormosessual?

A man who wears blue jeans.

You're spoofing me.

- Take those off. - No way. They're mine.

Throw him out. - Suppose he's a cop?

That a reason to be scared?

Love can bloom in a gaze.

Ma'am, we'd like some information on you too.

Like what?

Occupation?

- Housewife. - Which involves?

Which involves, for instance,

throwing out the garbage.

One steak, pronto!

Hello, you!

- Eating with us? - Wasn't it planned?

Just reminding you.

I didn't forget.

Then I'm confirming my invite.

No need. It was all set.

Okay, hurry up.

23 MINUTES LATER...

- So what'd this guy say? - Nothing.

- Is he eating? - Shoveling it down.

Did he start with the sardines?

Same as you.

- What did he drink? - Red wine.

- How much? - He downed half a bottle.

Hey, my plate!

What's on your mind?

I was thinking of Charles.

He's a decent fellow.

He's got a job. A good one.

Taxi driver.

Not too old, not too young.

Healthy. He saves his money.

Not too old, not too young.

Healthy and strong.

Must have a nest egg. He's got what it takes.

Only thing is, he's too romantic.

Oh, Mr. Charles!

Would you have a shoelace? I just broke mine.

- I'm out to lunch. Come back at 2:00. - Aren't those laces?

Hands off, mister!

It's like refusing bread to a starving man.

Don't give me a sob story. Cop! Lecher!

The thanks I get for returning a child to her folks. And what folks!

Whatcha got against them?

- The uncle is a - - I forbid you!

Don't tell me what to do.

Gabriel is an upright citizen. He's well-liked.

A vamp!

You and your haughty airs. I tell you, Gabriel is -

Prove it.

It's simple. He's married.

That proves nothing.

Henri Ill was married too.

- To who? - Louise de Vaudemont.

If that dame was queen of France, we'd know about her.

Give me the other one. What are you doing here?

Returning a lost child to her parents.

Now I'm the one who's lost.

The metro's that way.

You don't understand. It's me I lost.

- I don't get it. - Just ask me something.

My name, for example.

Okay, what's your name?

I don't know.

- What? - I never learned it by heart.

Why learn your name by heart?

- What's yours? - Gridoux.

- See, you learned yours by heart. - You're right.

Worse - I don't know if I ever even had one.

That can't be!

What do you mean, "that can't be"?

You know how old you are?

Of course not.

That's awful.

So when people ask me what I do,

I'm not just being difficult.

I get you.

The metro still that way?

That way... or this way.

But the metro's on strike.

On strike!

What a swell town!

I wonder why Paris is always pictured as a dame.

Shpritski nai ekerch!

I didn't know you spoke Black Forest talk.

I didn't mean to.

It was a sudden stroke of genius.

Us artistes are like that.

Paris will always be Paris!

Isn't this gorgeous, Zazie!

The Panthéon.

The Invalides.

The cabaret.

The metro.

Damgoddit, it makes me dizzy.

It isn't all that high.

But still.

I can see your taxi!

My glasses!

I got a confession stuck in my craw.

It's confessionitis!

I'll say nothing of my youth.

As for my upbringing, I had none.

Of my education, there's little to tell.

On this score, there's no more to say.

Now I come to my military service

on which I won't dwell.

A bachelor from early on,

I am what life has made me.

Rise, descend,

descend, rise,

come, go -

so does Man until he finally vanishes.

A taxi bringeth him.

An elevator taketh him away.

Neither the Tower nor the Panthéon take any note.

All Paris is a dream, Zazie is a reverie,

and all this

is a reverie within a dream...

a reverie within a dream...

I haven't been up here in 20 years.

How old are you?

How old d'ya think?

You're no spring chicken... 25?

Plus 10.

You don't look too old. And Uncle Gabriel?

- He's 32. - He looks older.

Don't tell him or he'll cry.

Why? 'Cause he's a hormosessual?

- Where'd you hear that? - The guy said that.

- It ain't so. - No, he really did.

I mean, it ain't so about Gabriel.

What makes him a hormosessual? 'Cause he wears perfume?

You got it.

- That's no crime. - Of course not.

- Are you a hormosessual? - I look like a fruit?

- No, you're the driver. - You see?

See what?

So why aren't you married?

Can't find my dream girl.

You're a snob. Do you like me?

- You're just a kid. - Some girls marry at 12.

- Do you like me? - 'Course not.

- You got screwy ideas. - Wonder where I get 'em.

And there, way out yonder,

the cemetery is piled high

with former Parisians...

who went up and down countless steps,

to and fro along endless streets,

until in the end

they went and were no more.

Pleasure bringeth them,

a hearse taketh them away.

Meanwhile, the Tower rusts, the Panthéon cracks,

quicker than their bones rot...

...and melt away

in the humus of the woeful metropolis.

But I am alive!

And there my knowledge ceases.

For of the cabbie and my niece,

1,000 feet up in the air,

and of my sweet spouse,

Albertine, back at the hearth,

at this precise moment, I know only this:

They are almost dead

since they are not here.

Created in a flash...

animated in a splash...

negated in a dash.

Get a move on! Schnell, schnell!

Well, well!

- Hi, Fedor! - Gabriel, you here?

What's keeping my Gretchens?

Want a lift to Sainte Chapelle, that jewel of Gothic art?

I'm with Charles.

S'long, Fedor. Good-bye, my Gretchen ladies.

Hey, answer me!

You wear me out! What questions!

They're good questions. You just don't know the answers.

Where were we?

I'm not the marrying kind.

Not all women ask questions like me.

"Women"! You're just a kid.

- I'm developing. - Don't get dirty.

- Dirty? That's life. - Life's clean.

You oughta know, in your racket.

Whaddya mean?

I read that cabbies see all types of sessuality.

Cut it out!

That all you can say? You must be repressed.

Wait for me. Tell me about your hang-ups.

Scared of women, huh?

There she goes again!

Sessuality all over the place, all the time!

Excrementation! Putrefaction!

People have such one-track minds!

- Where you going? - I'm splitting.

- What about us? - Take the metro.

I've had it with that brat.

Unc, I want an ice cream too.

- Where we going? - I've got a rehearsal at 6:00.

- Take a taxi. - During a metro strike?

Look at this.

- Why'd Charles take off? - No reason.

- That's no answer. - He just did.

- You won't tell me? - You talk too grown-up for him.

- What if I talk grown-up to you? - Try me.

Okay. Are you a hormosessual? Is that too grown-up?

Poor Charles!

Yes or no?

Dearie, you're hurting the poor man.

One mustn't mistreat grown-ups.

He won't answer me.

That's no reason.

We must never resort to violence in human relations.

It is eminently reprehensible.

My ass! Did I ask you the time of day?

- 4:15. - Leave the child alone.

- Some educator you are! - Educator, my ass!

What a foul mouth she has!

Mind your own ass!

I have my own ideas on education.

- For instance? - First, understanding.

You gonna answer my question?

Shit! That wasn't funny.

Be understanding.

Quit making eyes at my uncle.

He's married, you know.

I'm a real young lady,

and a widow, on top of it.

My rehearsal!

I'll never make it in time.

- Unc, will you answer me? - What?

- Is he a hormosessual? - No doubt about it.

- There's no talking to you! - That was mean.

You don't educate children by not answering.

She's right. So you gonna tell me, yes or no?

- What? - What's a hormosessual?

Damn! To do this to me!

Help!

Kidnappers!

Albertine?

Tired?

No, disappointed.

Officer, a fine gentleman has just been kidnapped!

It's my uncle!

- Who's she? - Nobody.

I've got a car. Get the kidnappers!

- She's not so dumb. - Thank you.

- Don't mention it. - It's sweet of you.

- You finished? - Who asked you?

Dames! You asked me! Words don't make sense!

- You coming or not? - That's a cop for you!

Judges are even worse. - Bastards all.

I've seen you somewhere.

- I doubt it. - Why not?

Maybe the child's right.

- Thank you, my dear. - A pleasure, my dear.

- Too kind. - All right, all right.

They're putting me on.

- Come on! - The kidnappers!

Just look at this.

I don't believe it!

A fine officer like you must know tricks.

Within the limits of the law, of course.

You'll see what stuff Trouscaillon's made of!

His name's Trouscaillon.

My name is Mrs. Mwack. Like everyone.

Christ! My rehearsal!

He's terrific!

- He's a clod. - Isn't he cute?

First it was my uncle. You want 'em all!

- Is Sainte Chapelle far? - A jewel of Gothic art.

Of my education, there's little to tell.

Never mind.

Come with us!

This is Captain Fedor Balanovich welcoming you aboard.

We are now cruising over the Trocadéro, famous for its cheeses.

We're flying at an altitude of 5'11". Speed: six knots.

On your left, the Social Security building, apex of our civilization.

Step on it, Fedor. I can't take anymore.

I'll take a shortcut.

O madam, could you perhaps have lost your way?

'Tis the wind and the breeze have led us astray.

And here is Sainte Chapelle,

a jewel of Gothic art.

Let's move it, gentlemen!

Before it closes.

- He's growing on me. - She's wacko!

- It's a joy to watch you drive, madam. - Really?

Hello, Mr. Gabriel!

So there you are! Rehearsal was at 6:00!

Traffic. Did my wife bring my new dress?

Your wife? That's a new one.

Put this call on my tab.

Hello, Turandot?

The number you dialed is not in service.

Oh, it's you!

Put Turandot on.

It's Gabriel.

Mado? Go tell Albertine -

I'm all alone.

Throw any customers out!

I can't throw Charles out. He's proposing to me.

About time! But move it!

So is it yes or no?

This is all so sudden, Mr. Charles.

I have to think it over.

- So it's no? - So it's yes.

Gabriel? Mado Pettifoot and me

just got engaged.

Yep, we're marrying.

It won't change nothing,

except when we bang away, it'll be legal.

We gotta celebrate.

Come to the club tonight to see my new number.

But tell Albertine to hurry with my dress.

Say, did the kid get back?

Enough is enough! I'll fire you!

Thanks for ditching me!

Leaving me with that old bag!

Ready? One, two, three.

You're all flustered.

I just got engaged.

Are you pregnant?

Not yet...

but we're getting married anyway.

This calls for a drink.

You mustn't refuse a drop of grenadine.

You sure talk good.

It comes natural.

You've hardly touched it.

It goes to my head.

Oh, I nearly forgot!

Gabriel says to hurry with his dress.

He's invited all of us tonight.

Fire!

My club's on fire!

At their age!

I can't just now, on account of the uniform.

I must be out of my mind.

Aren't we all?

You saw us?

You two make a wild pair.

Not wild to other eyes.

The hell with the "not wilds."

Say, Madame Albertine,

I simply must get dressed.

What should I wear?

You don't look naked to me.

Anyway, it's just us girls.

- You alone? - Out for a stroll.

A little girl out alone at this time of night!

I'm waiting for the others to go see Uncle dance.

- That elephant dances? - In a tutu, too!

Mind if I walk with you? I feel so alone.

Mind if I walk with you?

Do be understanding with grown-ups.

Ah, love! If you only knew.

Some day you'll know love. You'll see.

More dirty talk? Keep it clean or I'll call another cop.

Heartless child!

Poor old hag.

Still, a cop! Yuck.

He just happened by. If only your uncle had -

Lay off my uncle. I told you he's married.

Auntie beats you any day.

Trouscaillon suits me - or he will suit me.

Ah, love!

Can't you change channels?

Then see ya!

For an engagement, a medium white is indispensable,

with a touch of virginal silver.

I'll skip the virginal part.

What about that green-and-yellow skirt you wore

on Bastille Day? - You noticed?

You looked exquisite.

That's really sweet.

So you notice me sometimes?

I do.

Because I think you're beautiful.

Do you?

Oh, I do! I really do! I think you're swell-looking.

You're so well-stacked,

and so elegant on top of it.

Don't let's exaggerate.

But you are! You're real swell.

Why don't we see more of you?

I'd like to see more of you.

Yes, why don't we?

You, the very picture of health, which I dare point out,

and so beautiful on top of it.

I'm not one to flaunt it.

Leave it at that, dearie!

Watch this one!

Why did you ask us here tonight?

You who hide behind a veil of ostracism.

You who never wanted our "admirassation" for your art.

We don't understand the hic of this nunc.

So, cabbie, you're engaged?

- I hate parrots! - See a "psicky-analyst."

I've tried dream analysis.

- What do you dream of? - Wet nurses.

Something wrong, Mr. Gabriel?

I have stage fright.

Gabriel, you're on!

I have stage fright.

- On account of me? - Nay, Mr. Pedro.

Why Mr. Pedro?

That was your name this morning.

Really? I forgot.

Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?

No, I'm not.

That's really disgusting.

Well, I have some questions for you.

Ask away, but I won't answer.

You have to. I'm Inspector Bertin-Poirée.

My card.

A fake, obviously.

Never seen gangster movies? I could have you busted.

No search warrant, violation of privacy.

- And violation of something else? - Excuse me?

I got you under my skin.

The minute I saw you, I knew I had to bang you into bed.

Better sooner than later. I can't wait.

I'm the impatient sort.

I've got it bad.

You must be joking.

Admit you're a phony cop.

And you think a cop can't fall in love? See my daisy?

- Then you're a real jerk. - Some cops can't cut it.

But my personal charm won't leave you -

My personal charm won't leave you cold.

Tell me another one!

My sex appeal.

A few words

and my sex appeal will go to work.

And if it doesn't?

Then I'll jump you, just like that!

Earlier, it was Zazie.

But a real dish like you -

- Not with the others? - They bore me.

I'll go get your bag.

I'm the fickle type.

This morning it was the kid from the sticks.

At noon, you, baby-doll.

After lunch, it was that society broad,

the Baroness Mwack, a widow.

In less than five minutes, her life was turned upside-down.

You must think me a snob, my lovely.

Still not under my spell, my divine Albertine?

Getting dresseded?

- "Dresseded"? You mean "clothed." - You can't fool me.

Check the dictionary.

An egghead, too! Let's see.

"Dreck, dredge, dregs..." All household words.

Here it is: "dress"!

"I dress, I dressed, I am dressed." She was right!

"Undo, undreamed, undress..." Opposite of "dress"!

So undress, my lovely!

Take it off, take it all off!

There's nothing in town to top Gabriel's number.

But he's in a rut.

Entertainers are like that.

Once they find a gimmick, they stick to it.

But don't we all?

Not me. I keep changing mine.

Because your act's no good.

You keep trying stuff. So far nothing's worked.

You look like a flop.

- Even in uniform? - That doesn't help.

It's the lech! Recognize him?

This calls for an explanation! - Where's the mustache?

- I left it at home. - Leave him alone!

- Disturbing the peace! - Moonlight rowdiness!

Mezzanoche madness!

Look again. I'm a cop. See my wings?

- Where's Albertine? - Vanished!

Onward to some onion soup!

I hereby proclaim and declare, my dear Gabriel, before all present,

that you are the greatest dancer in town.

And here's to you!

Cheer up.

An old hag like you is sure to find another sucker.

Onion soup, Muscadet wine -

This is the life. Dinner with friends, sincerity, purity.

Not eating your soup, Zazie?

Let her sleep. Let her dream.

That old crock still here?

Pity the unfortunate. Right, old witch?

You're so kind.

Unlike her. Children are so heartless.

How long's she gonna bug us?

The old wreck has a broken heart.

You ladies don't like Alsatian sauerkraut?

No, they don't!

Who gafe zeez foreigners ze right to talk kooking?

- You know what that costs? - I sure do. I'm in the trade.

The old hag's guzzling all the wine.

This stuff isn't bad.

She has no class. She'd never try that with me.

People are all jerks.

Including you.

Is it the price? It's fair enough!

If it weren't for the taxes!

Don't push!

A spoonful for the parrot! And for Mado!

Revenge!

Kill the cops!

But God is dead!

What?

Never say die!

Yes, it is I, Haroun el Arachis,

prince of this world...

whom you have known

yet little recognized.

Trouscaillon! My king!

What a shame!

And me with a private income!

Crooked arm of the law,

nocturnaut shyster,

tormentor of widows and orphans,

I take pleasure in donning the mask

of confusion and error.

Go home to bed. I'll take her to the train.

The strike's over!

And he's so stupid too.

If he insists, I may not refuse,

but I won't chase after him anymore.

Good-bye, sir.

Did you have a good time?

So-so.

Did you ride the metro? Then what did you do?

I got older.