- [first lines]
- Paul Verlaine: Sometimes he speaks in a kind of tender dialect of the death which causes repentence, of the unhappy men who certainly exist, of painful tasks and heartrending departures. In the hovels where we got drunk he wept looking at those who surrounded us, the cattle of poverty. He lifted up drunks in the black streets. He had the pity a bad mother has for small children. He moved with the grace of a little girl at catechism. He pretended to know about everything, business, art, medicine. I followed him, I had to!
- Arthur Rimbaud: [to Verlaine] We should make a bargain. You help me... and I'll help you. If we go away together, I'm sure you'll be able to start doing good work again. And when we've taken as much as we can from each other...
- [Moves closer to Verlaine]
- Arthur Rimbaud: We simply split up and move on.
- Paul Verlaine: And how would we live?
- Arthur Rimbaud: Well, you have some money, don't you?
- [Chuckles]
- Paul Verlaine: I understand. I help you by supporting you...
- [Between a laugh]
- Paul Verlaine: And you help me by renewing my rusty, old inspiration. Is that it?
- Arthur Rimbaud: [Smiles, puts his hand to Verlaine's face and strokes it] You hold it all together.
- [He moves toward his mentor and kisses him. Verlaine looks at him in shock, but the young teenage poet only smiles. Paul leans to him and they kiss passionately]
- Arthur Rimbaud: I have no intention of taking a job. My work is going far too well - I can't afford to waste time earning money.
- Arthur Rimbaud: Do you love me?
- Paul Verlaine: What?
- Arthur Rimbaud: Do you love me?
- Paul Verlaine: Yes...
- Arthur Rimbaud: Then put your hand on the table.
- Paul Verlaine: What?
- Arthur Rimbaud: Put your hand on the table.