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Baron Jean Octavie: Die for me, my pet, that we both may be reborn.
Julien: Why can't we have a bit of cheerful Italian music, like everyone else?
Julien: That man and his damned symphony, or me!
Carlotta: I can't wait!
Marius Carnot: It's as though the music were buried in my soul.
Constable: This is not Paris, madam... I don't need any evidence.