Lyrics:

Brava, brava, bravissima

Christine, Christine

Christine

Where in the world have you been hiding?
Really, you were perfect
I only wish I knew your secret
Who is your great tutor?

Father once spoke of an angel
I used to dream he'd appear
Now as I sing, I can sense him
And I know he's here
Here in this room, he calls me softly
Somewhere inside, hiding
Somehow I know he's always with me
He, the unseen genius

Christine, you must have been dreaming
Stories like this can't come true
Christine, you're talking in riddles
And it's not like you

Angel of music, guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory

Who is this angel? This

Angel of music, hide no longer
Secret and strange Angel

He's with me even now

Your hands are cold

All around me

Your face, Christine, it's white

It frightens me

Don't be frightened

Ah, Vicomte!

Vicomte!

I think we've made quite a discovery with Miss Daaé

Perhaps we could present her to you, dear Vicomte

Gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind, this is one visit I should prefer to make unaccompanied


But thank you

It would appear they've met before

Yes