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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-08 09:03:25 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-08 09:03:25 -0800 |
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diff --git a/41949-0.txt b/41949-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15a4f90 --- /dev/null +++ b/41949-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11776 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41949 *** + + [Illustration: PHOTO. BY PACH + _MANSFIELD AS CYRANO DE BERGERAC._] + + + + + CYRANO DE BERGERAC + + An Heroic Comedy in Five Acts + + _Translated from the French of_ + + EDMOND ROSTAND + + BY + + CHARLES RENAULD + + _With an introduction by_ + ADOLPHE COHN + _Professor of the Romance languages and literatures in Columbia + University._ + + [Illustration: Publisher's Device] + + NEW YORK + FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1898 + BY CHARLES RENAULD + + COPYRIGHT, 1899 + BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY + + _All rights reserved._ + + + + + _INTRODUCTION._ + + +The phenomenal success of "Cyrano de Bergerac" is undoubtedly one of the +most important literary events of the last quarter of a century. It at +once placed Edmond Rostand, a young man of twenty-eight, at the head of +the small band of French dramatic writers, all men of marked ability, +Maurice Donnay, Georges de Porto-Riche, François de Curel, Paul Hervieu, +Henri Lavedan, etc., who had been struggling for supremacy since the +disappearance of the two great masters of modern French comedy, Émile +Augier and Alexandre Dumas, fils. There was no hesitation on the part of +the public. It was at once recognised that what had just been produced +upon the stage was not simply better than what had been seen for a long +time, but was also, to a certain extent, of a different nature. And the +verdict rendered by the French public in December, 1897, has since then +been approved by readers and theatre-goers in nearly every one of the +countries belonging to Western civilisation. + +Can it be said, however, that to an American, or an Englishman, "Cyrano" +is all that it is to a Frenchman, that its production would have been +possible outside of as well as in France, and its success as significant +in London as in Paris? If "Cyrano" is really a great work these +questions must be answered negatively, for it is in the nature of great +literary works that they consist of a combination of what is purely +human with what belongs to the time and place where they have had their +birth. They must have enough of what is purely human to make it possible +for them to be universally accepted, understood and admired. But they +must be also strongly national, so that their universal acceptance may +help in spreading all over the world part of the national ideal which +prevails in their birthplace. And to these elements may be joined a +third one, which is sure to add greatly to their success, and which +"Cyrano" possesses in a very high degree, viz: timeliness. + +As soon as "Cyrano" appeared it seemed to the French that this was just +what they had been waiting for. Two things especially appealed to them, +one of a purely literary nature, the other one a part of the basis of +moral feelings and ideas upon which the play is built. + +First of all, it was a clear play, full of light and sunshine. Edmond +Rostand hails from the South of France, and the atmosphere of his play +is as translucid as the atmosphere of his native Provence. It is as far +removed from symbolism and mysticism as the shores of the Mediterranean +are from the fogs of Scandinavia. Every incident in the play rests upon +some trait of character or combination of circumstances which has been +explained at some previous moment. Every one of the leading characters, +and "Cyrano" most of all, stands out in bold relief, and there is no +mistaking what they stand for. + +But this clearness is mainly for the countrymen of the author. It +depends partly upon the previous possession by the audience of a number +of notions which are part of the intellectual inheritance of the race. +The play, although quite modern in its style and construction, is in +some respects for the French a resurrection of a portion of their +glorious past. For them the _Hôtel de Bourgogne, les Précieuses_, +Cardinal de Richelieu, etc., are more than mere names. The earlier part +of the Seventeenth Century was for France a period of wonderful national +energy. It is then, and not later, that France acquired that supremacy +over the European Continent which is usually associated with the name of +Louis XIV, but which was already established when that monarch assumed +the reins of government. + +The timeliness of Rostand's great play was shown exactly in this, that +it called the attention of the French back to a time when the nation was +full of youthful and vigourous ambition, when a Frenchman would hardly +believe that there was anything that he could not do if he set his mind +to it, when it became the fashion to say that "Impossible was not a +French word." + +Ever since the war of 1870 the pall of defeat had hung over the French. +The stage showed this in a striking manner. The plays that were produced +presented on the whole a stern or a pessimistic conception of life. The +great periods of history, especially, in which French valour carried +everything before it, remained neglected, for fear of the painful +contrast which they would present with the humiliated condition of a +vanquished country. + +The men who wrote these plays belonged to a generation in which, using +the words of a French academician, "the mainspring of joy had been +broken." + +But the young men who now come to the front, and who have no more +brilliant representative than Edmond Rostand, belong to another +generation. They have not known the pangs of defeat; the mutilation of +the beloved Fatherland was an accomplished fact when they began to feel +and to think. They viewed French history not as concentrated in its last +and heart-rending episode, but as spreading through centuries of heroic +deeds, oftener illuminated by the dazzling sunshine of victory than +darkened by the gloom of defeat. They were growing tired of hearing it +repeated on all tones that life was not worth living, and they longed +for some one who would shout in a voice loud enough to be heard by the +whole world, "Let the dead past bury its dead." + +In the acclaim that greeted "Cyrano de Bergerac" on December 28th, 1897, +therefore, there was something more than applause for a great dramatic +work: there was gratitude for the poet who had dispelled at last the +atmosphere of sadness which had come to be stifling for the young +Frenchmen of our time. The period of deep mourning was proclaimed to be +over. Glances towards the past were again declared to be indulged in +only as inspirations for the future. The glory, the joyfulness of action +again appeared as living realities, not as the deceptive dreams of +unsuspecting ignorance. Thus "Cyrano" presented to the French a play +such as they had not seen for a long time. There had been plenty of +problem plays, or _pieces à thése_, as the French say; "Cyrano" was a +_piece à panache_. + +Seldom has, indeed, the purpose of a dramatist been more clearly pointed +out than in "Cyrano." When the hero of the play breathes his last, after +an imaginary fight with all the unworthy traits of human nature and +society which he had antagonized during his checkered life, the one +thing which he informs his friends cannot be taken from him, which he +will proudly carry to the very presence of God, is his _panache_, and +this is the last word, and, as it were, the affabulation of the drama. + +Now, what is this _panache_ upon which "Cyrano" sets such a high value? +To understand it is to appreciate, to miss it is to miss the meaning of +the play. An explanation of it is, therefore, not out of place in this +introduction. + +The _panache_ is an external quality which adds colour and brilliancy to +internal things already worth having for their own intrinsic value. Its +main justification is personal bravery. To take an example, the generals +of the French Revolution, the marshals of Napoleon's army, all possessed +personal bravery to a high degree. They were not all distinguished by +the _panache_. Some of them, indeed, Marshal Davout, for instance, were +strikingly devoid of it. The representative of the _panache_ among them +was essentially Murat. The _panache_ is literally a high plume, or bunch +of plumes, that waves high above a commander's head-gear. Murat was +bravery itself. But he had to be as conspicuous as possible. He dressed +as gorgeously as he could. He rode a superb charger, and rode it +superbly. His fur cap was always surmounted by a high and richly +coloured plume, which was always discerned just where the battle most +fiercely raged. Not his the deeply laid and skilfully carried out plans, +but the brilliant and heroic cavalry charge. His eyes, his very voice, +irrespective of what he said, were an inspiration to his men, and +dispelled all fear of death. There is magnetism in the _panache_, and +readers may remember that a few years ago an American statesman whom his +friends proclaimed to be magnetic if nothing else, was known throughout +the land as the Plumed Knight. "Rally round my white panache," Henry the +Fourth said to his soldiers; "you will find it always on the path of +honour and duty." The _panache_, too, is essentially joyful. "Cyrano" is +joyful, in spite of a life that would breed discouragement and +bitterness in almost any heart but his. If reality denies him his share +of happiness, then he will find it in the domain the ideal. He will not +have to go without it. + +And here we strike another cause of "Cyrano's" success. It is not simply +a play, it is a poem, and poetry always leads us towards the ideal. This +is undoubtedly one of the reasons underlying the love of the French for +a verse play. The very swing of its verbal development lifts us above +the trivialities of daily life. + +One might almost say that the verse play is as characteristic of the +French as the Wagnerian lyric drama is of the Germans. + +Corneille, Racine, Hugo, Molière himself in such a play as _le +Misanthrope_, are idealists, and their message to the world at large, to +which must now be added that of the brilliant author of "Cyrano," tells +of things better than those we see around us, of things of beauty which +it lies in every one of us to bring somewhat nearer to our touch, if we +will only have the courage to live up to them. + +A few words now about the new rendering of the play which is here +presented to the English-reading public. A number of translations of +"Cyrano" have appeared before this one. If the facts were known, +however, it would perhaps appear that Mr. Charles Renauld's is the +earliest of all. It was undertaken by its author under the spell cast +upon the French mind by the sudden revelation of Rostand's genius, the +nature and causes of which it has been the purpose of this production to +elucidate. + +The Shakespearian character of the play, displayed in the freedom with +which the author brings in everything that seems to him likely to +complete the portrait of his hero, has been recognised by the +translator, as is shown by his use of a combination of prose and verse +passages. + +A real translator must be equally at home in the language of the work +translated and in the language into which he translates it. He must be +in thorough sympathy with the mental attitudes of the two nations whose +speeches he is transmuting one into the other. He must be able to be a +component atom of that collective being, the public, on one side as well +as on the other of the national frontiers that divide them. Thus only +will he be able to discover the means that will produce upon the reader +of the translation the impression first received by contact with the +original. + +The readers of Mr. Renauld's translation will, it is thought, +acknowledge that he possesses in a high degree the above-described +qualifications, and that he has been peculiarly felicitous, when the +text did not lend itself to translation proper, in devising what may be +termed adequate equivalents. + +Of the faithfulness of his rendering those acquainted with the French +language will easily judge, as they can have under the same cover the +English of the translator and the French of the dramatist, and they will +thus, it is hoped, acquire a clear and adequate conception of the +beautiful picture, which, thanks to Edmond Rostand, has restored life +and brilliancy to the somewhat faded features of that eccentric +philosopher, poet, hero and gentleman, Savinien Hercule de Cyrano +Bergerac. + + ADOLPHE COHN. + + + + + _PREFACE._ + + +The author of this translation trusts that he is not presuming too much +if, despite his aversion for anything akin to offensive thought and +mention of self, he claims the privilege of prefacing the result here +presented of his labours with a few remarks, not as a plea _pro domo +sua_, but as an explanation relating to the motives and to the methods +by which he was guided in his work. + +First of all, he desires to state that this, his version of Edmond +Rostand's "Cyrano de Bergerac" was written in the early part of 1898, +and copyrighted in Washington long before any other rendering in English +of the beautiful and now celebrated play was either published or +performed. Why did he withhold it until now? Simply because Mr. Edmond +Rostand, with whom he was not in touch, had innocently, or under +insufficient advice, neglected to copyright in the United States, and +had meanwhile made arrangements for the performance of the play in +America. Was the writer, who has long been, and is still, battling for a +better protection of literary property, to interfere with, or even seem +in any way to invade these arrangements? He thought not, despite +solicitations to the contrary. True that, armed with the valid copyright +of his own work, and with many technicalities at his disposal, he could +have brought about considerable litigation in his own behalf, that would +possibly have resulted in an indirect defence of Mr. Rostand's moral +rights still subsisting. But in the face of a very doubtful issue in the +courts, with a possible charge of officiousness out of them, he thought +it wiser to abstain, allowing time meanwhile to accomplish its work of +adjustment. + +Others, however, apparently satisfied with safety for a justification, +have not treated with the same respect Mr. Rostand's moral rights and +the arrangements made by him for the American production of his "Cyrano +de Bergerac." The play has been mutilated, adapted, or "improved" to +suit. There are just now, it is said, some twenty so-called stock +companies presenting it in different cities throughout the United +States. The original in French has been openly reprinted here, likewise +its British translation, and other translations (so-called) have been +offered to the public. Mr. Rostand did not copyright. Hence the result +of his labours, of his genius, belongs, it would seem, to whoever +chooses to pick it up! + +In these circumstances and now, there certainly can be no impropriety in +the publication of this work, the more so as Mr. Rostand is to receive +in this instance the royalties to which he is morally entitled. + +Further even. Who knows but that this royalty-paying version in book +form, or produced on the stage (the right to perform it having been +expressly reserved by the writer), may not assist in setting aside the +different versions that now interfere with Mr. Rostand's moral rights, +as well as with the arrangements he chose to make for stage production +in America? Diffidence would prevent the translator, were it not for the +valuable encouragement he has received, from adding that the present +version of "Cyrano de Bergerac" may, perchance, better than any of the +renderings in English now extant, lead to an adequate conception of the +beauties of the work in French. + +At all events, those who were consulted, including the eminent +publishers, and the distinguished writer of the Introduction to this +book, freely agreed with the author in his opinion that publication +under the foregoing conditions could do no harm, while it might effect +considerable good, were it only as an example in many respects, proving, +among other things, that there are those, even in America, for whom +impunity does not constitute right. + +But enough "talk of shop," perhaps too much, for the _genus irritabile +vatum_. + +At this point, the author feels that, if he expatiated on his methods of +translation, he might with some justice be accused of tiresome +insistence, or, to put it more gently, of obduracy in esoterism. He +will, therefore, confine himself to a few statements, and make them as +short as possible. + +This version of "Cyrano de Bergerac" was written originally for the +stage, where, according to opinion behind as well as before the curtain, +in America at least, verse may be acceptable for the expression of +occasional flights of thought, but not through the whole of a play, and +especially not for such portions of a play as are necessarily +colloquial. To explain this alleged distaste for verse on the stage +would lead us far beyond the limits of a preface. Suffice it, then, to +say, reserving developments for some future occasion, that, for poetic +emotion, English verse is more than the French dependent on form, on +expression. In other words, English verse is less than the French free +to consider only thought, or substance, irrespective of words, or +construction. As a rule, then, it would seem in English that dress comes +first and figure next; while in French the order appears to be reversed. +In consequence (and setting aside the fact that there exists a "magic of +words," that has been an all-time and frequent deceiver of men), the +average reader or listener instinctively expects from English verse a +somewhat conventional language, diversified with unusual words and +exceptional contractions, inversions, etc. It follows that, when this +special phraseology and peculiar construction are applied to everyday +thoughts, facts, occurrences and sentiments, the effect produced is not +an agreeable one, by reason of a sort of clash, the appearance of a +thing of prose, straight-laced and overdressed in verse, in a word, +unnaturalness. Further, the majority of English-speaking actors, +unavoidably imbued with the same spirit, so soon as they deal with +verse, unconsciously resort to a stilted diction that is distressingly +far-removed from the art that consists, through tedious and patient +work, in being natural. + +Natural, unconstrained verse can, with proper care, it is thought, be +written in English, and can certainly, with appropriate training, be +delivered with naturalness. This done, our audiences would no doubt take +kindly to the rhythm of plays in verse. But, as this does not yet seem +to have been fully accomplished, the undersigned translator of "Cyrano +de Bergerac" reluctantly decided to use both verse and prose. For this +liberty, though justified as above, he feels that he owes the French +poet an apology, adding, however, that the deed brought its own +punishment, since, strange as it may appear to some, it would have been +much easier to render the play all in verse. + +As to verse and metrics, on which, in this instance, a book could (and +later, may) be written, the author of this translation must now rest +satisfied with the following brief remarks. + +Enlightened by considerable experience, the result of many experiments +and after much thought, he adopted blank pentameter as the true +equivalent in English of French riming Alexandrine verse. First, because +in English, frequent elisions making many syllables heavy, and "run on" +lines practically adding to the number of syllables, the ten-syllable +line of English verse is in reality the counterpart of the +twelve-syllable verse in French. And second, because the object of rime +being, not to repeat a given sound, but to _beat time_, the strongly +accentuated syllables of English, as compared with the very much more +even enunciation of French, are quite sufficient, without rime or +assonance, to _mark rhythm_. Thus he avoided at least one criticism, to +wit: rime is monotonous! + +Touching metrics, the writer will here go only one step in the ways of +heresy, by stating that, in his opinion, such words as "our," "hour," +"fire," etc., should be, as in French, "duel," "hier," etc., counted for +one syllable, or for two syllables, according to rhythm as influenced +by the stronger or weaker emphasis called for by the _sense_ of the +word. This could be elucidated by examples, the place of which, however, +is not here. + +More generally as to methods, the writer makes free to state that, +exerting himself to avoid _literal_ translation (too often productive of +laughable nonsense), and _free_ translation (frequently a substitution +of the translator's for the author's thoughts), he endeavoured, as in +previous works of the same nature, to give what he has termed an +_equivalent_ translation. In other words, he strove to remain really +true to the original by creating in detail, as well as in a general way, +in English words on English minds the _impression_ caused by French +words on French minds. Some examples of the _equivalence_ at least +sought for will be found in the foot-notes on several pages of this +book. + +As to "le panache" that surmounts this masterpiece, "Cyrano de +Bergerac," of which it is the main feature, sending through it a breath +of joyful daring "quand même," the writer sought, as will be seen, to +describe it in triolets. These, too, might need to be explained, were it +not for the able commentary to be found in the Introduction so kindly +written for this book by one of the most learned and esteemed professors +of our Columbia University. + +The writer trusts that he may be pardoned for going at such length into +some of the minutiæ of his task, and he certainly should be acquitted if +he thereby succeeded in showing how much labour must be expended to +produce even a tolerable translation, and consequently, how little +justice is very often done to translators in general. He commends these +details to his friends as an inducement to think a while before they +leap, or rather jump at conclusions. Were he less charitably disposed, +or more eager for a practical demonstration, he could say to them +simply: "Try the task!" + + CHARLES RENAULD. + +NEW YORK, February, 1899. + + + + + "_LE PANACHE._" + + TRIOLETS. + + (_After the fashion of Rostand's in ACT II: "Ce sont les Cadets de + Gascogne."_) + + + O'er truth and daring floats a plume + That is no flaunting feather vain! + In knightly grace and flower's bloom, + O'er truth and daring floats a plume! + In festive hall, by silent tomb, + It waves aloft without a stain. + O'er truth and daring floats a plume + That is no flaunting feather vain! + + We'll call it, if you will, a broom; + But how it sweeps with proud disdain! + It sweeps the skies, and not a room! + We'll call it, if you will, a broom. + It is a symbol, not of gloom, + But of a dash that scorns to gain. + We'll call it, if you will, a broom; + But how it sweeps with proud disdain! + + O'er truth and daring floats a plume + That is no flaunting feather vain! + It marks for ay the hero's doom! + O'er truth and daring floats a plume. + It nods o'er chisel, brush and loom, + And consecrates the poet's strain. + O'er truth and daring floats a plume + That is no flaunting feather vain! + + CHARLES RENAULD. + + NEW YORK, 12th July, 1898. + + + + + _CAST OF CHARACTERS._ + + THÉÂTRE DE LA PORTE ST. MARTIN, PARIS, + 28th Dec., 1897 (_First night_). + + + CYRANO DE BERGERAC MR. COQUELIN. + CHRISTIAN DE NEUVILLETTE MR. VOLNY. + COUNT DE GUICHE MR. DESJARDINS. + RAGUENEAU MR. JEAN COQUELIN. + LE BRET MR. CASTILLAN. + CAPTAIN CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL[1] MR. GRAVIER. + { MR. PERICAUD. + { MR. DEMEY. + { MR. NOIZEUX. + CADETS OF GASCONY { MR. TERVAL. + { MR. KIRTAL. + { MR. ARMAND. + { MR. HOSSARD. + LIGNIÈRE MR. REBEL. + DE VALVERT MR. NICOLINI. + A MARQUIS MR. WALTER. + SECOND MARQUIS MR. LAUMONIER. + THIRD MARQUIS MR. HEMERY. + MONTFLEURY MR. PERICAUD. + BELLEROSE MR. DAVRIL. + JODELET MR. CARTEREAU. + CUIGY MR. GODEAU. + BRISSAILLE MR. BORGES. + AN INTRUDER MR. PERSON. + A MUSKETEER MR. CARLIT. + SECOND MUSKETEER MR. DURAND. + A SPANISH OFFICER MR. ALBERT. + A CAVALRYMAN MR. DOUBLEAU. + THE JANITOR MR. JOURDAN. + A TRADESMAN MR. LOISEAU. + TRADESMAN'S SON MR. BOURGEOIS. + A SPECTATOR MR. SAMSON. + A GUARD MR. DANNEQUIN. + BERTRANDOU, THE FIFE-PLAYER MR. G. MONPEURT. + A CAPUCHIN MONK MR. RAVART. + TWO MUSICIANS { MR. GASTON HENRY. + { MR. DAMON. + { MR. WILLIAMS. + THE POETS { MR. LEROY. + { ETC. + { MR. MALLET. + THE PASTRY-COOKS { MR. BERCHA. + { ETC. + + ROXANE MME. MARIE LEGAULT. + SISTER MARTHA MME. ESQUILAR. + LISE MME. BLANCHE MIROIR. + WAITING-GIRL MME. KERWICH. + MOTHER MARGARET OF JESUS MME. BOUCHETAL. + THE DUENNA MME. BOURGEOIS. + SISTER CLAIRE MME. PANNETIER. + A COMEDIENNE MME. LUCINNE. + A LADY'S MAID MME. VARENNES. + { MME. MARTHE MARTY. + THE PAGES { MME. LOISIER. + { MME. BERTHA. + { ETC. + THE FLOWER-GIRL + +The people, tradesmen, musketeers, thieves and pickpockets, +pastry-cooks, poets, Gascon cadets, comedians, violin-players, pages, +children, Spanish soldiers, spectators of both sexes, euphuistic ladies +("précieuses,") comediennes, tradeswomen, nuns, etc. + + (_The first four acts in 1640; the fifth in 1655._) + + [1] Note. As to translation of the name Carbon de Castel-Jaloux + (such _was_ the name of Cyrano's captain) see note page 77. + + [Illustration: _COQUELIN AS CYRANO DE BERGERAC._] + + + + + CYRANO DE BERGERAC. + + + + + _ACT I._ + + A PERFORMANCE AT THE HOTEL DE BOURGOGNE THEATRE. + + +_The interior of the Hotel de Bourgogne Theatre, in 1640. A sort of +Racket-Court arranged and decorated in view of performances. The +auditorium is a long square. It runs diagonally, and forms the +background, one of its sides beginning at first entrance, right, and +ending at last entrance, left, where it forms a right angle with the +stage, that is thus seen canted. On each side of this stage, benches +along the wings. The curtain is in two pieces of tapestry, that can be +drawn apart. Above the proscenium, the royal arms. Wide steps lead from +the stage to the auditorium. On either side of these steps, seats for +the violin-players. Foot-lights composed of candles._ + +_Two galleries, one above the other, running along the side of the +auditorium (that forms the diagonal background). The upper gallery is +divided into boxes. No seats in the pit. In the rear of this pit, really +front first entrance right, a few benches in tiers. Under a staircase +leading to the galleries, and only the lower part of which can be seen, +a refreshment side-board bearing lights, flowers, glasses, plates of +cakes, decanters, etc._ + +_In the rear, centre, under the galleries, the entrance to the house. A +wide door, half opened now and then to admit the audience. Near this +door, as well as near the side-board and in other places, red posters +giving the name of the play about to be performed: "La Clorise."_ + +_As the curtain rises, the house is empty and rather dark._ + +_The chandeliers have been lowered into the pit, but are not yet +lighted._ + + + _SCENE I._ + +_The audience enters gradually. Gentlemen, tradesmen, lackeys, pages, +pickpockets, the janitor, etc._ THE MARQUISES, CUIGY, BRISSAILLE, _the +waiting girl, the violins, etc._ + +_Noise outside the door, then a gentleman bursts in._ + + THE JANITOR (_pursuing him_). + +Here! Your fifteen sols! + + THE GENTLEMAN. + +I pay nothing for admission. + + THE JANITOR. + +Why so? + + THE GENTLEMAN. + +King's guard! + + THE JANITOR (_to another gentleman just come in_). + +You, Sir? + + SECOND GENTLEMAN. + +Free admission. + + THE JANITOR. + +But .... + + SECOND GENTLEMAN. + +Musketeer! + + FIRST GENTLEMAN (_to second gentleman_). + +It's not two o'clock yet, and the pit is empty. Suppose we fence a bit? + + (_They begin fencing with foils they have brought along._) + + A LACKEY (_entering_). + +Pst----Flanquin! + + ANOTHER LACKEY (_just in_). + +Hallo, Champagne! + + FIRST LACKEY (_taking cards and dice from out his doublet_). + +Cards? Dice? Let's play. + + (_Seats himself on the floor._) + + SECOND LACKEY. + +Certainly, you rascal. + + (_Takes a candle out of his pocket, lights it, and after seating + himself near first lackey, plants it on the floor._) + + GUARD (_taking flower-girl by the waist_). + +How sweet in you to come before the lights do! + + ONE OF THE FENCERS. + +Touched! + + ONE OF THE CARD-PLAYERS. + +Clubs! + + GUARD (_to flower-girl trying to escape_). + +A kiss! + + A MAN (_sitting on the floor, with a basket of provisions_). + +I come early, so as to eat in peace. A knowing fellow, when he is at the +Hôtel de Bourgogne, should drink his Burgundy. (_Drinks._) + + TRADESMAN (_to his son_). + + It's as bad as a low tavern.--(_Showing the man drinking_): + Drunkards!--(_One of the fencers backs up against him_): + Cut throats!--(_He is pushed on to the card-players_): + Gamblers! + + GUARD (_still pursuing the flower-girl_). + +A kiss! + + TRADESMAN (_hearing him_). + +And worse!--For shame! To think that walls like these, my son, have seen +the plays of Rotrou! + + THE SON. + +And Corneille's! + + A TROOP OF PAGES (_coming in, dancing and singing, + holding each other by the hand, so as to + form a string_). + +Tra la la la la la la la la la la lère!.... + + JANITOR (_to Pages severely_). + +No practical jokes, mind! + + FIRST PAGE (_with great dignity_). + +Sir, your suspicion is an offense!.... + + SECOND PAGE (_to first Page_). + +I have some string. Haven't you a fish-hook? + + FIRST PAGE. + +Of course I have! We can do some fine angling from up stairs. + + (_To the other Pages who are already in the gallery_). + +We're coming! + + THIRD PAGE (_in gallery_). + +We're ready! (_Blows dried peas at him through hollow stick._) + + A PICKPOCKET (_drawing around him some + suspicious-looking characters_). + +Now, youngsters, try to learn something. You see, the first time you +steal.... + + (_Driven away by dried peas blown in showers by the Pages above._) + + TRADESMAN (_to his son_). + +The play we are going to see: "La Clorise" .... + + SON. + +The author, please? + + TRADESMAN. + +Balthazar Baro. + + PICKPOCKET (_continuing his instructions_). + +Mind the lace around the knees![2] How you cut it! + + TRADESMAN (_to his son_). + +I was at the first performance of "Le Cid,"--(_pointing up_)--There! + + PICKPOCKET. + +As to watches.... and kerchiefs.... + + TRADESMAN. + +You are going, my son, to see illustrious actors. (_Enumerating_) +Montfleury! + + THE PAGES. + +Light the chandeliers! + + WAITING-GIRL (_offering her refreshments_). + +Oranges! Milk! Raspberry water! Cedar water! + + A MARQUIS (_entering_). + +Make way there, fellows! + + A LACKEY. + +What! a Marquis in the pit! + + MARQUIS (_to other Marquises who have followed him in_). + +The house is empty! Why, we enter like tradesmen, disturbing nobody, +treading on nobody's toes! Disgraceful! + + (_Meeting other noblemen just come in_). + +Cuigy! Brissaille! + + (_They salute and embrace each other with great affectation._) + + CUIGY. + +Patrons of art so faithful, yes, that we get here even before the +candles are lighted! + + MARQUIS. + +Do not mention it! I'm terribly out of humour! + + CUIGY (_seeing lamplighter enter_). + +Be consoled! Here is the lamplighter. + + ALL THE HOUSE (_satisfied_). + +Ah.... + + (_Groups around the chandeliers while they are being lighted. + Lignière enters the pit, leaning on the arm of Christian de + Neuvillette. Lignière, somewhat untidy, has the appearance of a + gentlemanly drunkard. Christian, dressed with care, but somewhat + out of fashion, seems thoughtful, and examines the boxes._) + + [2] NOTE. "La dentelle des canons."--"Canons" were ornamental + lace, embroidery or ribbons around the lower edge of + knee-breeches.--Not, as one translation has it: "the canonical + gentlemen's lace." + + + _SCENE II._ + + _The same_, CHRISTIAN, LIGNIÈRE, _then_ RAGUENEAU _and_ LE BRET. + + CUIGY. + +Why, here's Lignière! + + BRISSAILLE (_laughing_). + +And not yet drunk?.... + + LIGNIÈRE (_aside to Christian_). + +Shall I present you? + + (_Christian nods assent. Lignière presents._) + + Baron de Neuvillette. + + (_General salutations._) + + THE AUDIENCE (_as the first chandelier goes up_). + +Ah!.... + + CUIGY (_to Brissaille, looking at Christian_). + +A beautiful head! + + FIRST MARQUIS (_who has overheard_). + +Oh! so, so!.... + + LIGNIÈRE (_presenting to Christian_). + +Mr. de Cuigy, Mr. de Brissaille. + + CHRISTIAN (_bowing_). + +Delighted! + + FIRST MARQUIS (_to second_). + +He is good looking, but not dressed according to the latest fashion. + + LIGNIÈRE (_to Cuigy_). + +Baron de Neuvillette has just arrived from Touraine. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Yes, I've been in Paris only a few days. To-morrow I join the guards, +the Cadets. + + FIRST MARQUIS (_looking up to the boxes_). + +There is the wife of President Aubry. + + THE WAITING-GIRL. + +Oranges, milk .... + + THE VIOLINS (_tuning_). + +La, la, la, la, la. + + CUIGY (_to Christian, looking around_). + +Quite an assemblage! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Yes, indeed! + + FIRST MARQUIS. + +The cream of fashion. + + (_He seems to give the names of the different ladies who occupy the + boxes, in full dress. Bows, nods, answers, smiles._) + + SECOND MARQUIS. + +Mesdames de Guéménée.... + + CUIGY. + +De Bois-Dauphin.... + + FIRST MARQUIS. + +Whom we loved .... + + BRISSAILLE. + +De Chavigny .... + + SECOND MARQUIS. + +For whom our hearts are toys! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +There is Monsieur de Corneille, just from Rouen. + + TRADESMAN'S SON (_to his father_). + +The Academy is here?.... + + TRADESMAN. + +I see several of its members. Here are Boudu, Boissat, Cureau de la +Chambre, Porchères, Colomby, Bourzeys, Bourdon, Arbaud .... So many +names that can never die! How grand! + + FIRST MARQUIS. + +Attention! here are our lovely "précieuses,"[3] they of wondrous names: +Barthénoïde, Urimédonte, Cassandace, Félixérie .... + + SECOND MARQUIS. + +Delightful names! Marquis, you know them all? + + FIRST MARQUIS. + +I know them all, Marquis. + + LIGNIÈRE (_aside to Christian_). + +I came in to do you service. The lady comes not. So I return to my +tavern. + + CHRISTIAN (_imploringly_). + +Do not. You, who in your songs depict both town and court, can tell me +the name of one for whom I am dying of love. Remain! + + (_The violins begin to play._) + +I fear she may be something of a coquette and too subtle in her +refinement. I dare not speak to her, for my wit is dull and the language +of to-day confuses me. I am but a good soldier. She generally occupies +that box to the right--that empty one. + + LIGNIÈRE (_as if to leave_). + +I must go. + + CHRISTIAN (_holding him_). + +Remain, please. + + LIGNIÈRE. + +I cannot. D'Assoucy expects me at the tavern. One might die of thirst +here. + + WAITING-GIRL (_passing_). + +Lemonade! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Fie! + + WAITING-GIRL. + +Milk! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Ugh! + + WAITING-GIRL. + +Wine! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +(_to Christian_). (_to waiting-girl_). + +I'll stay a while. Let me taste your wine. + + (_Takes a seat near the buffet. Waiting-girl serves wine to him._) + + SHOUTS IN THE AUDIENCE (_on the entrance of a + short, plump and jovial looking man_). + +Here's Ragueneau! + + LIGNIÈRE (_to Christian_). + +The celebrated poulterer and pastry-cook! + + RAGUENEAU (_in his best pastry-cook clothes, going + up to Lignière_). + +Sir, have you seen Monsieur de Cyrano? + + LIGNIÈRE (_presenting Ragueneau to Christian_). + +The caterer of comedians and poets! + + RAGUENEAU (_bowing low_). + +Flattered, indeed!.... + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Come, come, you Mæcenas! + + RAGUENEAU. + +They honour me with their custom .... + + LIGNIÈRE. + +But seldom pay. A good poet himself .... + + RAGUENEAU. + +They say so. + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Enthusiastic for verse! + + RAGUENEAU. + +The fact is that for a short poem .... + + LIGNIÈRE. + +You willingly give a pie. + + RAGUENEAU. + +A small tart only! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Good fellow, he excuses himself!.... And for a triolet did you not give +.... + + RAGUENEAU. + +Only a few rolls! + + LIGNIÈRE (_sternly_). + +Milk-rolls!.... And the stage? You like it? + + RAGUENEAU. + +I love it. + + LIGNIÈRE. + +And you buy your way in with your cakes. + + RAGUENEAU. + +Oh, so few! (_Looking around._) But I am surprised not to see Monsieur +de Cyrano! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Why so? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Because Montfleury plays! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +That talking hogshead? True. To-night he plays Phédon. But what cares +Cyrano? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Don't you know? Monsieur de Cyrano has taken an aversion for him, and, +gentlemen, has forbidden him to appear on the stage for a whole month. + + LIGNIÈRE (_emptying his fourth glass_). + +Well, then? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Oh! I only came to see what is going to happen. + + FIRST MARQUIS (_who has come up meanwhile with Cuigy_). + +Who is this Cyrano? + + CUIGY. + +A capital swordsman. + + SECOND MARQUIS. + +Of noble birth? + + CUIGY. + +Sufficiently so. He is a cadet in the guards. + + (_Indicating a gentleman who appears to be seeking somebody._) + +But here's his friend Le Bret.... + + (_Calling_) Le Bret! (_Le Bret comes down._) + +You are looking for Bergerac? + + LE BRET. + +Yes, and with some anxiety.... + + CUIGY. + +Am I not right in stating that he is no ordinary man? + + LE BRET (_moved_). + +He is the most exquisite of creatures sublunary. + + RAGUENEAU. + +A rimester! + + CUIGY. + +A swordsman! + + BRISSAILLE. + +A scientist! + + LE BRET. + +A musician! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +But how strange is his appearance! + + RAGUENEAU. + +No solemn painter, like Philip de Champaigne, probably, will ever give +us a portrait of him. But he is so odd, extravagant, wild and strange, +that he could well have served Jacques Callot as a model for the most +erratic of his fighting heroes. Three-plumed hat, astounding doublet, +cloak whose folds a sword draws up behind, in stateliness, like the +saucy tail of a cock.[4] Prouder than the proudest of Gascony's +numberless haughty sons, he wears, above his Pulcinella ruff, a +nose!.... Ah! mylords, what a nose is that nose! It is impossible, in +presence of such a nose-bearer[5] not to think: "This, really, is +exaggeration!" Then you will smile, and think: "Of course, he'll take it +off." But Monsieur de Bergerac never takes it off. + + LE BRET. + +Never--but whoever notices that nose he wears is sure to get a +swordthrust for the attention. + + RAGUENEAU. + +His sword is one of the two blades of the fatal sisters' scissors! + + FIRST MARQUIS (_shrugging his shoulders_). + +He will not come. + + RAGUENEAU. + +Oh! yes, he will. I'll bet.... a chicken....à la Ragueneau. + + (_Murmurs of admiration as Roxane appears in her box, where she + takes a seat in front, while her duenna sits behind her. Christian, + busy paying the waiter-girl, does not notice her entrance._) + + SECOND MARQUIS (_affectedly_). + +Oh! gentlemen, she is frightfully lovely! + + FIRST MARQUIS. + +A peach divine, smiling in a nest of strawberries.[6] + + SECOND MARQUIS. + +So refreshing that she might give one a cold in the heart! + + CHRISTIAN (_perceiving Roxane, and clutching + Lignière's arm_). + +It's she! + + LIGNIÈRE (_looking up_). + +So this is your deity! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Yes, speak quickly. I tremble. + + LIGNIÈRE (_slowly sipping his wine_). + +Magdeleine Robin, otherwise Roxane. Refined and quick. A "précieuse." + + CHRISTIAN. + +Alas! + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Independent. An orphan. Cousin of Cyrano, whom you heard mentioned just +now. + + (_A gentleman, very finely dressed, wearing a blue ribbon crosswise + from shoulder to waist, enters the box, and remains engaged in + conversation with Roxane._) + + CHRISTIAN (_starting_). + +That man?.... + + LIGNIÈRE (_slightly intoxicated, winking_). + +Ha, ha! The Count de Guiche. Very much in love with her. But he is the +husband of Richelieu's niece. And he is urging Roxane to marry rather a +sorry fellow, Monsieur de Valvert, who is both of noble birth and.... +accommodating. She resists, but Guiche has influence. I wrote a song on +the subject. No doubt he bears me a grudge for it. The end is cutting. +Just listen: + + (_He rises, holding up his glass, ready to sing._) + + CHRISTIAN. + +No, stop.--I must leave. + + LIGNIÈRE. + +And you are going?.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +To seek this Valvert. + + LIGNIÈRE. + +Take care. Perhaps it's he that might kill you. (_Indicating Roxane._) +See! she is looking at you. + + CHRISTIAN. + +True. (_He remains, looking up as if transfixed. The pickpockets get +close around him._) + + LIGNIÈRE. + +'Tis I who leave. I'm thirsty and I must be expected--in some tavern! + + (_Exit unsteadily._) + + LE BRET (_who has been walking, to Ragueneau_). + +I feel relieved. Cyrano has not come. + + RAGUENEAU (_incredulous_). + +I'd be astonished.... + + THE AUDIENCE. + +The play! The play! The play! + + [3] Query.--Might it not be argued that the "précieuses" were perhaps + spiritual daughters of the _euphuists_, disciples of John Lyly, + who flourished in England under Queen Elizabeth, about half a + century before the time of action here? + + [4] Note.--Not "an insolent cocktail," as one translation has it. + + [5] Note.--Literal translation of "nasigère," a word invented by + Ragueneau, would be euphuist. + + [6] Note.--The play on the word "fraise" (both "strawberry" and + "ruff") could not be reproduced. + + + _SCENE III._ + + _The same, except_ LIGNIÈRE; GUICHE, VALVERT, _then_ MONTFLEURY. + + SECOND MARQUIS (_seeing Guiche, as he comes + from Roxane's box, crossing the pit, + surrounded with fawning friends, among + whom Valvert_). + +Guiche! Ff! Another Gascon! + + FIRST MARQUIS. + +Yes, of the cool and supple breed, the one that thrives. We had better +greet him, believe me. + + (_Both go up to meet Guiche. General salutations._) + + SECOND MARQUIS. + +Beautiful ribbons! What colour, Count? "Kiss-me-darling," or +"roe's-breast?" + + GUICHE. + +Colour? "Sickly-Spaniard." + + FIRST MARQUIS. + +The colour is fast and true; for soon, thanks to your valor, the +Spaniard will be worse than uneasy in Flanders! + + GUICHE. + +I am going to my seat on the stage. Are you coming? + + (_He and his followers walk up on to the stage. Guiche turns and + calls._) + +Come along, Valvert! + + CHRISTIAN (_who has heard, starting_). + +That viscount! Now I'll fling at him!.... + + (_Puts his hand to his pocket and finds there the hand of a + thief._) + + (_holding on to the pickpocket_). + +I was looking for a glove! + + PICKPOCKET (_smiling_). + +And you find a hand. (_Aside and rapidly._) Let me go and I'll tell you +a secret. + + CHRISTIAN (_still holding him_). + +What secret? + + PICKPOCKET. + +Lignière, who has just left you, is going to his death. A song of his +gave offence to.... some great man, and one hundred men, I know it, will +lie in wait for him to-night.... + + CHRISTIAN (_still holding on_). + +One hundred! Paid by whom? + + PICKPOCKET. + +Discretion.... + + CHRISTIAN (_shrugging his shoulders_). + +Oh! + + PICKPOCKET (_with great dignity_). + +Professional discretion.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Where? + + PICKPOCKET. + +At the Porte de Nesle, his way home. Warn him in time. + + CHRISTIAN (_freeing the pickpocket_). + +Where can I find Lignière? + + PICKPOCKET. + +In one of the taverns near here: "The Golden Wine-Press," "The +Fir-Cone," "The Bursting-Belt," "The Two Torches," "The Three Funnels." +Go the rounds and leave a note in each. + + CHRISTIAN. + +I'll do it! The wretches! A hundred men against one! (_Looking up toward +Roxane._) But to leave her! (_With a look of fury toward Valvert._) And +him! But I must save Lignière! + + (_He rushes out. Guiche and his followers have gone on to the stage + behind the curtain, to take their seats. The pit is full; so are + the galleries and boxes._) + + THE AUDIENCE. + +The play! The play! Curtain! + + TRADESMAN (_whose wig flies up hooked by one + of the pages above_). + +My wig! (_Shaking his fist at the pages._) Scoundrels! + + (_All the audience laughs. Sudden silence._) + + LE BRET (_astonished_). + +What is it? + + TRADESMAN (_near Le Bret_). + +The Cardinal.... there.... in a screened box. + + A PAGE. + +Good-bye, fun! (_Raps on the stage. Order in the audience. Wait._) + + A MARQUIS (_behind the curtain, during silence_). + +Snuff that candle! + + OTHER MARQUIS (_passing through the split in the + curtain_). + +A chair, please! + + (_A chair is passed, from hand to hand, over the heads of the + audience. The marquis takes it and disappears behind the curtain, + after sending a few kisses up into the boxes._) + + (_Three raps on the stage. Curtain is drawn aside. Tableau. + Marquises seated on either side of the stage, in impertinent + attitudes. Drop represents a bluish pastoral scene. Low music by + the violins._) + + LE BRET (_aside to Ragueneau_). + +Montfleury comes in at once, does he not? + + RAGUENEAU (_aside to Le Bret_). + +Yes. Monsieur de Cyrano is not here, and I have lost my bet. + + LE BRET. + +I am glad of it. + + (_A bag-pipe air, and Montfleury appears, a very powerful man in a + poetic shepherd's dress: his hat ornamented with roses and his + bag-pipe with ribbons._) + + THE PIT (_applauding_). + +Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury! + + MONTFLEURY (_after bowing, begins his part of Phédon_). + + "Oh! happy he who far from courts, in solitude,[7] + Self-banished, has cast off the chains of servitude, + And who, when zephyr sighs and rustles through the leaves...." + + A VOICE IN THE PIT. + +You rascal, did I not suspend you for a month? + + (_Astonishment. Everybody eager to see who spoke. Murmurs._) + + SEVERAL OF THE AUDIENCE. + +What? What is it? Who? Why? + + (_People in the boxes rise, to see better._) + + CUIGY. + +It's he! + + LE BRET (_frightened_). + +Cyrano! + + THE VOICE IN THE PIT. + +King of clowns, get off the stage! + + THE HOUSE. + +Oh! + + MONTFLEURY. + +But.... + + THE VOICE IN THE PIT. + +You recalcitrate?[8] + + VOICES IN THE PIT (_and in the boxes_). + +Silence! Enough! Go on, Montfleury! Montfleury, have no fear!.... + + MONTFLEURY (_in shaking tone_). + +"Oh! happy he who far from courts, in sol...." + + THE VOICE IN THE PIT (_more threatening_). + +Well, you king of knaves, shall I be forced to plant a grove of these +upon your shoulders? + + (_A stick is seen to rise in the pit._) + + MONTFLEURY (_in still weaker tones_). + +"Oh! happy he...." + + (_The stick is shaken threateningly._) + + THE VOICE IN THE PIT. + +Get off, I say! + + THE PIT. + +Oh! + + MONTFLEURY (_almost breathless_). + +"Oh! happy he who far ...." + + CYRANO (_in the pit, standing on his chair, arms + folded, hat cocked on the side of his head, + his mustache bristling and his nose terrible_). + +I am going to let my temper loose! + + (_Excitement in the audience._) + + [7] Note.--Alexandrine verse adopted here and further on (beginning + of Act II) as being more pompous. + + [8] Note.--The words "you kick," in the place of "tu récalcitres," + were suggested by a friend, as a better translation. But the good + critic failed to realise that Cyrano does not use slang, and is + almost always, on the contrary, somewhat hyperbolic, addicted to + willful oddity of speech.--"Récalcitrant," adj.-part. (doggedly + resisting), is frequently used in French. But the infinitive + "récalcitrer," though it exists, and the other forms of the verb + are seldom, if ever, heard.--Cyrano, therefore, calls up a smile, + if not a laugh, by resorting to the verb in the second person, + singular, present, indicative.--_To recalcitrate_ is a good + English word (see Longfellow), but it is so seldom used that it + creates on the English ear the same impression of amused surprise + that is induced by the original. + + + _SCENE IV._ + + _The same_, CYRANO, _then_ BELLEROSE, JODELET. + + MONTFLEURY (_to the Marquises_). + +Protect me, gentlemen! + + A MARQUIS (_languidly_). + +Play on! Play on! + + CYRANO. + +Now mind me, corpulence! If you play, I'll have to spank your cheeks. + + THE MARQUIS. + +Enough! Enough! + + CYRANO. + +Let the gentlemen remain silent on their benches. Otherwise their +ribbons will have a taste of my stick. + + ALL THE MARQUISES (_rising_). + +This is too much, indeed! Montfleury! + + CYRANO. + +Montfleury must go, or I shall crop his ears and disembowel him! + + A VOICE. + +But .... + + CYRANO. + +He must go! + + ANOTHER VOICE. + +We cannot .... + + CYRANO. + +What! Not gone yet! + + (_As if he were going to turn up his sleeves_). Then must I go upon + the stage to cut up this overgrown sausage into slices? + + MONTFLEURY (_with an attempt at dignity_). + +By insulting me, Sir, you insult the Muse Thalia! + + CYRANO (_with great courtesy_). + +If the Muse Thalia, with whom you are not related, Sir, had the honour +of your acquaintance and saw you so fat and so silly, she would +certainly give you a lift with her buskin. + + THE PIT. + +Montfleury! Montfleury! The play. + + CYRANO (_to the noisy ones around him_). + +Have pity on my scabbard! If you continue thus, it will lose control of +its blade. + + (_The circle around him widens._) + + (_to Montfleury_). + +Get off the stage! + + (_The crowd closes in on him, muttering._) + + (_Turning suddenly_). + +Any objection made? + + (_Crowd falls back again._) + + A VOICE (_in the rear_). + +Monsieur de Cyrano is a tyrant. "La Clorise" shall be played. + + THE AUDIENCE. + +"La Clorise!" "La Clorise!" + + CYRANO. + +If I hear that again, I'll slaughter you all. + + TRADESMAN. + +You are not Samson! + + CYRANO. + +I will be, my dear Sir, if you'll lend me your jaw. + + A LADY (_in one of the boxes_). + +Disgraceful disturbance! + + A GENTLEMAN. + +Scandalous! + + A PAGE. + +Oh! What fun! + + THE PIT. + +Kss! Kss! Montfleury! Cyrano! + + CYRANO. + +Silence! Such is my order. I challenge the whole pit! Now for the names! +Come up here, young heroes. Take the line, please; I'll distribute +numbers. Well, who'll be number one? You, Sir? No! You, then? No! I'll +favour number one by prompt attendance. Let any one who desires to die +hold up a hand. + + (_Silence around him._) + +Oh! I see. You are prudish and would not like to see a blade naked. Not +a name? Not a hand?--Very well, then, I continue. + + (_Turning again to the stage, on which Montfleury is waiting in + agony_). + +I desire to see the stage cured of a monstrous tumor. And, if necessary, +I'll use ... (_putting his hand to his sword_) a lancet! + + MONTFLEURY. + +But I .... + + CYRANO (_gets off his chair and sits down on it, + comfortably, with a wide circle around him_). + +Attention, full moon! I'll clap my hands thrice. The third time, there +must be an eclipse. + + THE PIT (_amused_). + +Ah! Good! + + CYRANO (_striking his hands together_). + +One! + + MONTFLEURY. + +But I .... + + A VOICE (_from the boxes_). + +Stay, Montfleury! + + THE PIT. + +Will stay, will not! Will stay, will not! + + MONTFLEURY. + +I believe, gentlemen .... + + CYRANO. + +Two! + + MONTFLEURY. + +It would be far better .... + + CYRANO. + +Three! + + (_Montfleury disappears as if by magic. General laughter, + whistling, etc._) + + CYRANO (_leaning back in his chair, and crossing + his legs_). + +Let him return if he dares! + + THE AUDIENCE. + +The company's orator! + + (_Bellerose advances and bows._) + + THE BOXES. + +Ah! here is Bellerose! + + BELLEROSE (_with great elegance_). + +Noble lords .... + + THE PIT. + +No! No! Jodelet! + + JODELET (_with a nasal twang_). + +Disturbers of the peace! The heavy tragedian whose bulk suits your +fancy, felt.... + + THE PIT. + +He is a coward! + + JODELET. + +Suddenly unwell ... and was compelled to retire. + + THE PIT. + +Let him return!--No!--Yes!-- + + A YOUNG MAN (_to Cyrano_). + +But, after all, Sir, what reason is there for your hating Montfleury? + + CYRANO (_very courteous, still seated_). + +Young gosling, there are two, either one of which is sufficient in +itself. First: he is a bad actor; he rants, and seems to lift with a +derrick lines that have wings of their own. Second: but that is _my_ +secret. + + TRADESMAN (_behind Cyrano_). + +But, Sir, you deprive us of the pleasure of hearing "La Clorise." I +insist.... + + CYRANO (_turning in his chair toward the + tradesman respectfully_). + +Venerable mule, Baro's verse is worthless. I interrupt without the +slightest remorse. + + THE "PRÉCIEUSES" (_in the boxes_). + +Baro! Our Baro! Heavens! Is it possible? + + CYRANO (_turning his chair to the boxes, with + great courtesy_). + + Fair beings .... + Irradiate and bloom, be Hebes, all, + Dispensing dream; with smile make death a feast + To us----inspire verse.... but judge it not! + + BELLEROSE. + +How about the money we'll have to return? + + CYRANO (_turning his chair toward the stage_). + +Bellerose, you have said the only intelligent thing yet heard to-day. I +would not for the world make holes in the cloak of Thespis. + + (_He rises and throws a small bag upon the stage_). + +Catch this purse and hold your tongue! + + THE AUDIENCE (_bewildered_). + +Ah!.... Oh!.... + + JODELET (_picking up the purse and weighing it_). + +For the same price, Sir, you may daily prevent the performance of "La +Clorise"!.... + + THE AUDIENCE. + +Hu!.... Hu!.... + + JODELET. + +Even if we are to be hooted .... Clear the house! + + (_The audience begins to leave. Cyrano looks on with great + satisfaction. The crowd, however, soon stops as the following + discussion begins. The ladies in the boxes, who had already risen + to go, and put on their wraps, resume their seats_). + + LE BRET (_to Cyrano_). + +You are insane! + + AN INTRUDER (_who has come up to Cyrano_). + +A comedian like Montfleury! Scandalous! Why! He is a favourite of the +Duke de Candale's! What powerful patron have you? + + CYRANO. + +None! + + THE INTRUDER. + +No patron? + + CYRANO. + +No! + + THE INTRUDER. + +What! no high-born gentleman whose name can shield you? + + CYRANO (_impatient_). + +I've said No twice already. A third time: No! I've no protector.... +(_his hand on his sword_) but this! + + THE INTRUDER. + +You are going to leave town, then? + + CYRANO. + +Hardly probable. + + THE INTRUDER. + +But the Duke has a long reach! + + CYRANO. + +Not so long as mine .... (_showing his sword_) with this extension! Now, +go about your business. + + THE INTRUDER. + +But allow me.... + + CYRANO. + +Go! Or, rather, tell me why you look so sharply at my nose. + + THE INTRUDER (_abashed_). + +What! I.... + + CYRANO. + +Is there anything extraordinary about it? + + THE INTRUDER. + +Your lordship mistakes.... + + CYRANO. + +Is it soft and swinging like an elephant's trunk? + + THE INTRUDER. + +I did not say.... + + CYRANO. + +Or crooked like the beak of an owl? + + THE INTRUDER. + +No; I.... + + CYRANO. + +Is there a wart on the end of it? Or a fly? What's amiss with it? Or is +it a phenomenon? + + THE INTRUDER. + +Why, I didn't even look at it! + + CYRANO. + +Why shouldn't you look at it? Is it repulsive? + + THE INTRUDER. + +My dear Sir.... + + CYRANO. + +In colour unhealthy? In shape indecent? + + THE INTRUDER. + +Not at all! + + CYRANO. + +Why, then, seem to revile it? Perhaps the gentleman finds it rather +large? + + THE INTRUDER (_stammering_). + +I find it small, very, very small. + + CYRANO. + +How small? Ridiculously then? My nose small! Why, my nose is enormous! +Remember, vile flat-nose and flat-head, that I am proud of such an +appendix! For a large nose properly indicates a man that is affable, +kind, courteous, witty, liberal and brave, such as I am, and such as +you, miserable knave! can never be; for the inglorious face that my hand +is about to seek above your collar is as destitute ..... (_he slaps +intruder's face_). + + THE INTRUDER. + +Oh! + + CYRANO. + +Of pride, of flight, of poesy, of picturesqueness, of fire, of +magnificence, of Nose, in fact, as the one.... (_Cyrano seizes the +Intruder by the shoulders and kicks him in the seat_) that my boot now +reaches at the base of your back. + + THE INTRUDER (_escaping_). + +Help! Guards! + + CYRANO. + + Fair warning, then, to idle lookers on + Who criticise the centre of my face! + The critic, if a gentleman, will get,-- + Before he flies,--in front and higher too, + My custom's such, some steel instead of leather! + + GUICHE (_who with the marquises, has come down + from the stage_). + +The gentleman is getting very tiresome! + + VICOMTE DE VALVERT (_shrugging his shoulders_). + +He is a braggart! + + GUICHE. + +And no one answers him?.... + + THE VICOMTE. + +No one? Just wait. Such a retort as I'm going to send him! + + (_He advances toward Cyrano, who has been looking at him, and draws + himself up with an air of foppish vanity._) + +You.... you have a nose.... hum! a nose, Sir, that is.... very large. + + CYRANO (_very quietly and seriously_). + +Very large, indeed! + + VICOMTE (_laughing_). + +Ha! Ha! + + CYRANO (_with great self-possession_). + +Is that all? + + VICOMTE. + +Well, I.... + + CYRANO. + +No, no, that's a little too short, young man! You might have said.... +Well.... many things.... in different keys. For instance, listen: +_Aggressive_: "I, Sir, had I such a nose, would at once have it +amputated."--_Friendly_: "It must dip into your glass. To drink with +comfort, you should have a hanap constructed!"--_Descriptive_: "It is a +rock!... a peak!!.... a headland!!! More than a headland, a whole +peninsula!"--_Inquisitive_: "What may this oblong thing be used for? A +writing-desk or a tool-chest?"--_Pleasant_: "Do you love birds so much +that you feel bound to offer them so comfortable a resting +place?"--_Fierce_: "When you use tobacco, Sir, can you emit smoke from +that nose without your neighbours' crying that there is a chimney on +fire?"--_Thoughtful_: "Be careful; so much top-hamper might cause you to +fall!"--_Affectionate_: "Have a parasol made for it; the sun might fade +its colour!"--_Pedantic_: "For so much flesh on so much bone beneath the +forehead, we must go back, Sir, to the animal Aristophanes calls +Hippocampelephantocamelos!"--_Flippant_: "Why! man, is that the fashion +for hooks? Certainly convenient for hanging up a hat!"--_Emphatic_: +"Masterly nose, no wind can make you catch aught but a fractional cold! +None but a northern hurricane!"--_Dramatic_: "When it bleeds, we have +the Red Sea!"--_Admiringly_: "For a perfumer, what a sign!"--_Lyric_: +"Is it a shell trumpet, and are you a triton?"--_Innocent_: "When is +this monument open to visitors?"--_Respectful_: "This is really owning a +mansion with a gable on it!"--_Countrylike_: "That be not a nose, but a +big turnip, or a young melon!"--_Military_: "Point against +cavalry!"--_Practical_: "Will you put it up in a lottery? It will surely +be the largest prize!"--Finally, to parody the grief of Pyramus: + + So here we have the nose that on its master came + To ruin harmony! The traitor's red for shame! + +That is about what you might have said, dear boy, if you had a +sprinkling of letters and a bit of humour. Of humour, though, lamentable +being, you never had an atom; and, as to letters, you never had but the +four that spell the word Fool!--Some invention is requisite for +extravagant jests before such an audience, but, even if you had it, you +could not have uttered a quarter of the half of the beginning of what I +said; for I may be willing to serve such sport myself, but I allow +nobody to serve it to _me_. + + GUICHE (_endeavouring to lead away the Vicomte_). + +Vicomte, pay no attention to him! + + VICOMTE (_overwhelmed_). + +Such arrogance! An insignificant little squire .... who .... who .... +doesn't even wear gloves!....and who sallies forth without ribbons, bows +or trimmings! + + CYRANO. + + 'Tis morally I have my elegance, + I do not dress as does a fop, but I + Am better groomed than some more richly clad. + I'd not set forth with traces of neglect + About me, say: an insult left unwashed, + A conscience still confused and half asleep, + My honour soiled, or scruples out of shape. + When I proceed, I do so clean and bright, + With truthful independence for a plume. + 'Tis not my form I lace to hold it up, + It is my soul I try to elevate! + The ribbons that I wear are only deeds; + I twist perhaps my wit like a mustache; + But then I cause, as I go through your groups, + Above the clash of spurs, the truth to ring! + + VICOMTE. + +But, Sir .... + + CYRANO. + +I have no gloves on?.... What matters it? I did have one left from a +very old pair! One day I found it somewhat in the way .... and I left it +on somebody's face. + + VICOMTE. + +Knave, puppy, flat-footed ridiculous bully! + + CYRANO (_taking off his hat and bowing, as if the + Vicomte had just presented himself_). + +Ah! delighted!.... and I: Cyrano, Savinian, Hercules de Bergerac. + + (_Laughter around._) + + VICOMTE (_exasperated_). + +Buffoon! + + CYRANO (_uttering a cry as if he had a cramp_). + +Ay!.... + + VICOMTE (_who was leaving, returning_). + +What is it now? + + CYRANO (_grinning as if in pain_). + +I must move it, for it is asleep.... What a mistake to let it remain +inactive.... Ay!.... + + VICOMTE. + +What ails you? + + CYRANO. + +It's my sword that's tingling! + + VICOMTE (_drawing his sword_). + +Be it so! + + CYRANO. + +I'll show you a neat little thrust. + + VICOMTE (_disdainfully_). + +Poet! + + CYRANO. + +Yes, Sir, a poet! So much so that, while we play swords here, I +mean--hop!--on the spur of the moment, to improvise for you a ballade. + + VICOMTE. + +A ballade? + + CYRANO. + +Yes. I'll wager you do not know what is a ballade. + + VICOMTE. + +But.... + + CYRANO (_as if reciting a lesson_). + +Well, then, a ballade is composed of three stanzas of eight lines +each.... + + VICOMTE (_stamping impatiently_). + +Oh! + + CYRANO (_continuing_). + +Plus an Envoy of four lines. Twenty-eight lines in all, with only three +rimes.... + + VICOMTE. + +You.... + + CYRANO. + +I am going to compose one while fighting, and when I come to the last +line, Sir, I'll touch you! + + VICOMTE. + +You'll not! + + CYRANO. + +Be sure, I shall! + + (_Declaiming._) + +Ballade of the Duel Between Monsieur de Bergerac and a Coxcomb. + + VICOMTE. + +What is that, if you please? + + CYRANO. + +That is the title. + + THE AUDIENCE (_greatly excited_). + +Make room there!.... Capital!.... Stand back!.... Be silent!.... + + (_Tableau.--Circle of lookers-on in the pit,--marquises and + officers, with the tradesmen and common people. Pages on each + others' shoulders for a better view. All the women standing in the + boxes. To the right, Guiche and his followers. To the left, Le + Bret, Ragueneau, Cuigy, etc._). + + CYRANO (_closing his eyes for a moment_). + +Wait....I'm selecting my rimes....There now, I'm ready! + + (_He does as he says while speaking the verses._) + + My hat with grace I cast aside; + Next, watch me, please, I slowly free + The cloak in which I'm wont to stride; + And then I draw my sword, you see. + A Celadon[9] you have in me, + A Scaramuccia very much; + But, pygmy, moderate your glee, + For, when I close th' Envoy, I'll touch! + + 'Twere better you had slept or died. + O goose, where shall I puncture thee? + Beneath the ribs? Above? Decide! + Or through the breast, where ribbons be? + The hilts are ringing. One, two, three! + My sword, beware! is not a crutch. + I'll strike according to decree, + For, when I close th' Envoy, I'll touch! + + I seek in vain a rime in _ide_. + You back--and whiten--let's agree + Upon a word, say: trembling hide, + So, tac! I parry, just a wee, + Your vicious thrust. Now finish we! + I open--quart--or something such---- + Hold well that spit, you dog, or flee,[10] + For, when I close th' Envoy, I'll touch! + + (_He announces with solemnity_). + + ENVOY.[11] + + Now, Prince, may heaven hear your plea! + I follow, though you break and clutch. + I cut--I feint--Be ready--Hee! (_He lunges._) + + (_Vicomte staggers; Cyrano bows._) + +For now I close th' Envoy.... (_pointing to Vicomte_) + + I touch! + + (_Applause in boxes. Flowers and handkerchiefs are thrown. Officers + surround and congratulate Cyrano. Ragueneau dances for joy. Le Bret + seems both overjoyed and dejected. The Vicomte's friends support + him and bear him off._) + + A MUSKETEER (_most cordially shaking Cyrano's hand_). + +Allow an expert to congratulate you, Sir, most heartily. + + (_He leaves._) + + CYRANO (_to Cuigy_). + +Who is this gentleman? + + CUIGY. + +D'Artagnan! + + LE BRET (_passing his arm through Cyrano's_). + +Now let us talk!.... + + CYRANO. + +Wait till the crowd has left. + (_to Bellerose_). +May we stay a while? + + BELLEROSE (_to Cyrano_). + +Certainly, Sir. + + (_giving orders to Janitor_). + +Close the house, but do not put out the lights. We'll return after +dinner for a rehearsal. + + (_Jodelet and Bellerose bow to Cyrano, then exeunt._) + + JANITOR (_to Cyrano_). + +You are not going to dinner, Sir? + + CYRANO. + +I?.... No. + + (_Exit Janitor._) + + LE BRET (_to Cyrano_). + +Why not? + + CYRANO (_proudly_). + +Because.... + + (_changing his tone, when he sees that the Janitor has gone_). + +Because I have no money!.... + + LE BRET (_as if throwing a purse_). + +How about that bag of coin? + + CYRANO. + +Monthly allowance, thou wert short lived! One day! + + LE BRET. + +For a whole month, then.... + + CYRANO. + +I have nothing left. + + LE BRET. + +To throw away thus your purse, what folly! + + CYRANO. + +Yes, but what a gesture! + + THE WAITING-GIRL (_behind the counter_). + +Hum! + + (_Cyrano and Le Bret turn around. She advances timidly._) + +Sir .... I cannot bear.... to see you fast.... (_Showing the buffet_). I +have here several things.... Take some! + + CYRANO (_taking off his hat_). + +My dear child, Gascon pride forbids my accepting from you the smallest +of your delicacies. But, on the other hand, I would not for the whole +world offend you, as my refusal might do. So I will with pleasure +accept.... + + (_Goes up to the buffet and chooses._) + +Oh! the smallest thing!.... ah! one grape from this bunch. + + (_She tries to make him take the bunch, but he picks out a single + grape._) + +Only one.... a glass of water.... + + (_She tries to pour some wine, but he prevents her._) + +Pure water!.... and half a maccaroon. + + (_He breaks a maccaroon in two, and returns one of the pieces._) + + LE BRET. + +What nonsense! + + WAITING-GIRL. + +Do have something more! + + CYRANO. + +Yes, your hand to kiss. + + (_He kisses her hand as if she were a princess._) + + WAITING-GIRL. + +Thank you, Sir! + + (_Curtsies._) + +A very good evening! + + (_Exit waiting-girl._) + + [9] Note.--One of the translations that have appeared in the New York + daily press renders "Céladon" by reference to Lord Chesterfield! + The time of action (first four acts) of "Cyrano de Bergerac" is + 1640, and Lord Chesterfield was _born_ only 54 years _later_. + + [10] Note.--In the original, Cyrano calls his opponent "Laridon." This + is the name of a degenerate _dog_. See fables of La Fontaine + ("L'Education"). + + [11] Note.--"L'Envoi," as often written, supposedly in French, is + incorrect. It is, in French, when heading the last four lines of + a ballade, "Envoi," without the article, l' (le). + + + _SCENE V._ + + CYRANO, LE BRET, _later_ JANITOR. + + CYRANO (_to Le Bret_). + +Now, I'll listen to you. + + (_He goes to the buffet, on which he places the half maccaroon._) + +Dinner! + + (_Then the glass of water._) + +Drink! + + (_And the one grape from the bunch._) + +Dessert! + + (_Takes a seat by the buffet._) + +Now for the feast! My dear friend, I feel very hungry.... (_Eating_) +Well? You were saying?.... + + LE BRET. + +That all these bellicose doings and the admiration they elicit will warp +your judgment. Go ask people of sense what they think of this last prank +of yours, of its effect. + + CYRANO (_finishing his half maccaroon_). + +Enormous!.... + + LE BRET. + +The Cardinal!.... + + CYRANO (_beaming with delight_). + +He was there? The Cardinal? + + LE BRET. + +Yes, and he must have found you.... + + CYRANO. + +Anything but commonplace. + + LE BRET. + +Nevertheless.... + + CYRANO. + +He's an author. And he must have enjoyed seeing another's play crushed. + + LE BRET. + +You are, really, making too many enemies! + + CYRANO (_munching his one grape_). + +How many do you estimate I have made to-day? + + LE BRET. + +Forty-eight, without counting the women. + + CYRANO. + +Enumerate them. + + LE BRET. + +Montfleury, the tradesman, Guiche, the Vicomte, Baro, the Academy.... + + CYRANO. + +You give me infinite joy! + + LE BRET. + +What will all this lead you to? What system is yours? + + CYRANO. + +I was really meandering, and I found so many conclusions to adopt, +through so many complications, that I came to this decision.... + + LE BRET. + +Which is?.... + + CYRANO. + +Oh! the simplest of all, by far. I decided to show myself admirable in +all, and for all! + + LE BRET (_shrugging his shoulders_). + +So be it!.... But come now, tell me, tell _me_, the true reason of your +hatred for Montfleury. + + CYRANO (_rising_). + +This Silenus, with a stomach like a hogshead, still believes himself a +danger to womankind. See him, while he stammers on the stage, ogling +like a carp, with his frog's eyes! I hate him since he dared, once, to +set those eyes of his upon her.... Oh! I felt as if I saw a long slug +crawling over a flower! + + LE BRET (_astounded_). + +What, is it possible?.... + + CYRANO (_with a bitter laugh_). + +That I love? + + (_changing to a solemn tone_). + +I do love. + + LE BRET. + +Whom? May I enquire? You never told me. + + CYRANO. + +Whom I love? Come now, reflect. The dream of being loved, even by a +homely girl, is one forbidden me. Forbidden by this nose of mine that +precedes me everywhere by fifteen minutes. So, then, I love .... Whom? +Why! it is most natural! I love .... it could not be otherwise, the +loveliest of the lovely! + + LE BRET. + +The loveliest?.... + + CYRANO. + +Exactly .... in the world! The most brilliant, the most exquisite, +(_crushed_) the blondest! + + LE BRET. + + This woman is?.... + + CYRANO. + + A deadly danger, though + She knows it not; a snare that Nature made + Unconscious, like a sweetly budding rose + Whose leaves conceal,--in ambush lurking, love. + Who sees her smile knows what perfection is: + Her slightest touch engenders loveliness; + She moves as if all heaven's grace were hers, + And Venus ne'er embarked in any shell, + Nor did Diana tread the sylvan paths + As my adored can step into a chair! + + LE BRET. + +I understand! Quite clear. + + CYRANO. + +Transparent, say. + + LE BRET. + +It's Magdeleine, your cousin? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, Roxane. + + LE BRET. + + Well, where's the harm? You love her? Tell her so! + She witnessed here just now your valiant deed! + + CYRANO. + + Why! Look at me, good friend, and say what hope + There can be with .... such a protuberance! + I clearly see the truth. But, then, of course, + My heart will beat, perchance, at eventide, + If, with this nose, I scent the breath of spring. + Or else, I see, along some moonlit path, + A whisp'ring pair of lovers slowly move; + And then I think what rapture would be mine + If on my arm a gentle creature leaned. + I dream: but suddenly, I'm brought to sense. + By what? Alas! My profile on the wall! + + LE BRET. + + Dear friend!.... + + CYRANO. + + Yes, friend, it's hard indeed to feel + So homely and forlorn at times.... + + LE BRET (_taking his hand_). + + You weep! + + CYRANO. + + Weep? Never! Oh! a sorry sight, indeed, + If down this nose a tear should take its course! + I will not have, so long as I command, + The saintliness of tears polluted by + This homeliness of mine. Remember, friend, + That nothing's more sublime than flowing tears. + So would I not allow a single one + To cause a laugh, or seem ridiculous! + + LE BRET. + +Come, come, do not be sad. In love there is hazard, remember. + + CYRANO (_shaking his hand_). + +No! I love Cleopatra: do I resemble a Cæsar? I adore Berenice: do I look +like a Titus? + + LE BRET. + +But, friend, your bravery, intelligence and wit!.... Take that girl +there who just now offered you your dinner. Did her eyes seem to detest +you? + + CYRANO (_struck_). + +It's a fact. + + LE BRET. + +Well, then, hope!.... Why! Roxane was pale and trembling, ghastly pale, +while she followed your duel here!.... + + CYRANO. + +Ghastly pale? + + LE BRET. + +Her heart and mind were certainly struck. Pick up courage and speak to +her, so that.... + + CYRANO. + +So that she bursts out laughing into my face .... under my very nose? +No, no!.... That is the only thing in the world that I fear! + + THE JANITOR (_bringing in the duenna, to Cyrano_). + +Somebody for you, Sir. + + CYRANO (_seeing the duenna_). + +Great heavens! Her duenna! + + + _SCENE VI._ + + CYRANO, LE BRET, THE DUENNA. + + THE DUENNA (_with a long curtsy_). + +A fair cousin would like to know where a valiant cousin can be seen, in +private. + + CYRANO (_greatly disturbed_). + +I be seen, in private? + + DUENNA (_with another curtsy_). + +Yes, be seen. There are things to be said. + + CYRANO. + +There are things.... + + DUENNA (_another curtsy_). + +To be said. + + CYRANO (_staggering_). + +Heavens! + + DUENNA. + +We'll hear to-morrow early mass, at the church of Saint-Roch. + + CYRANO (_leaning on Le Bret_). + +Heavens! + + DUENNA. + +As we go out, we can chat a bit, I fancy. + + CYRANO (_bewildered_). + +Where?.... I .... But .... Heavens! + + DUENNA. + +Decide. + + CYRANO. + +I'm thinking.... + + DUENNA. + +Where?.... + + CYRANO. + +At.... at.... Ragueneau's.... the pastry-cook's.... + + DUENNA. + +Where's that?.... + + CYRANO. + +Rue.... Rue.... Heavens! Rue St.-Honoré! + + DUENNA (_leaving_). + +We'll be there by seven sharp. Be punctual. + + CYRANO. + +I shall! + + (_Exit Duenna._) + + + _SCENE VII._ + + CYRANO, LE BRET, THE COMEDIANS _and_ COMEDIENNES, CUIGY, BRISSAILLE, + LIGNIÈRE, THE JANITOR, THE VIOLINS. + + CYRANO (_falling into the arms of Le Bret_). + +I!.... She.... An appointment!.... + + LE BRET. + +So, now your sadness is no more? + + CYRANO. + +No! for, whatever the reason, she knows that I exist! + + LE BRET. + +And now you will be cool? + + CYRANO (_beside himself_). + +No, I'll be frantic and invincible! I would I had an army to defeat! I +have ten hearts and twenty arms. What are dwarfs to me?.... (_He +shouts._) I must have giants to vanquish! + + (_For the last few minutes, on the stage, in the rear, actors and + actresses have been going and coming: a rehearsal is on. The + violins have taken their seats._) + + A VOICE (_from the stage_). + +Silence there, please! We're rehearsing. + + CYRANO (_laughing_). + +Very well. We're leaving. + + (_As Cyrano is about going, enter, by the wide door in the rear, + Cuigy, Brissaille, and several officers, supporting Lignière, who + is completely intoxicated._) + + CUIGY. + +Cyrano! + + CYRANO. + +What is it? + + CUIGY. + +A friend of yours. + + CYRANO (_recognising Lignière_). + +Lignière!.... Why! what is the matter? + + CUIGY. + +He was looking for you. + + BRISSAILLE. + +He cannot get home. + + CYRANO. + +Why not? + + LIGNIÈRE (_thick-tongued, showing a note soiled + and torn_). + +This note warns me .... a hundred men are posted .... on account of a +song .... I'll be murdered .... at the Porte de Nesle .... there I must +pass .... to get home .... Offer me shelter .... under your roof! + + CYRANO. + +One hundred men, you say? You'll sleep under your own roof. + + LIGNIÈRE (_terrified_). + +But how can I?.... + + CYRANO (_in fierce tones, showing him the lighted + lantern held by the Janitor, who has been listening_). + +Take that lantern! + + (_Lignière seizes the lantern._) + +And walk on boldly. I swear to you that I to-night will make your bed +for you. (_To the officers._) You, gentlemen, be good enough to follow +.... at a distance. You'll be witnesses. + + CUIGY. + +Yes, but one hundred men!.... + + CYRANO. + +To-night I would not have them fewer by a single man! + + (_The comedians and comediennes, who have, in their costumes, come + down from the stage into the pit, crowd around Cyrano._) + + LE BRET. + +But why protect this.... + + CYRANO. + +There's Le Bret grumbling again! + + LE BRET. + +This commonplace drunkard?.... + + CYRANO (_playfully striking Lignière on the + shoulder_). + +Because this drunkard, this cask of Muscatel, this barrel of Rossoli, +once did something exceedingly handsome: his lady-love, as she was +leaving church, after mass, having properly dipped her dainty finger +into the holy water near the door, he, though he has a horror for water, +ran up to the stoup, leaned over it and drank it dry! + + COMEDIENNE (_in soubrette's dress_). + +A pretty deed, I think. + + CYRANO. + +Was it not, soubrette? + + COMEDIENNE (_to the others_). + +But why a hundred men against a poor poet? + + CYRANO. + +Let us on!.... (_to the officers_) .... and you, gentlemen, when you see +me charge, please do not follow; simply look on, whatever danger I may +be in! + + COMEDIENNE. + +But we wish to see too! + + CYRANO. + +Come along, then! + + COMEDIENNE (_to the troop_). + +Let us all go? + + CYRANO. + +Come, all of you, the Doctor, Isabella, Leander, all! Come as a bevy +pleasant and frolicsome! Come, and let the fantasy of Italian farce +tinkle through the rumble of to-night's Spanish drama, surrounding it +with jingles like a tambourine! + + THE WOMEN (_jumping for joy_). + +Bravo! Quick, a wrap! a hood!.... + + JODELET. + +Let us proceed! + + CYRANO (_to the violins_). + +Will the violins supply the music? + + (_The violins join the formation. Candles are taken from the + footlights and distributed; and thus a torch-light procession is + prepared._) + + CYRANO. + +Bravo! Officers, gentlemen and women in fancy dress! Now, ten steps +ahead .... (_he places himself as he speaks_) I, alone, beneath the +plume that glory itself stuck into this hat .... proud as a Scipion +thrice Nasica!.... Understood?.... All assistance to me is forbidden! +Ready?.... Open the door! + + (_Janitor opens the door, through which can be seen a bit of old + Paris, picturesque in the moonlight._) + + Ah! Paris in the dimness of the night, + With moonlight trickling down the bluish roofs. + For coming deed how exquisite the frame! + 'Neath mist as light as gauze, behold! the Seine, + As if it were a magic mirror there, + Is trembling .... and you'll see what you shall see! + + ALL. + +To the Porte de Nesle! + + CYRANO (_on the threshold_). + +To the Porte de Nesle! + + (_Turning, before going out, to the soubrette_). + +Did you not ask, Madamoiselle, why against this one rimester a hundred +men were sent? + + (_He draws his sword and continues very quietly._) + +Because he is known to be a friend of mine! + + (_Exit Cyrano. The procession--Lignière with unsteady head--the + comediennes hanging upon the arms of the officers, then the + comedians dancing and capering--moves out into the night, with the + violins for music, and with candles for light._) + + _CURTAIN._ + + [Illustration: _FIRST ACT._] + + + + + _ACT II._ + + THE POET'S COOK-SHOP. + + +_The shop of Ragueneau, poulterer and pastry-cook, a large establishment +in Paris, on the corner of the Rue St.-Honoré and the Rue de +l'Arbre-Sec. In the rear, through the wide glazed door, the streets are +plainly seen, grey in the light of dawn._ + +_To the left, first entrance, a counter, above which is an iron frame, +from hooks on which are suspended geese, ducks and white peacocks. Large +crockery vases containing ordinary plants, principally sunflowers. On +the same side, second entrance, a wide fireplace, before which, between +two monumental andirons, on each of which a pot is hung, several roasts, +the fat of which is dripping into pans._ + +_To the right, first entrance, a door. Second entrance, a staircase +leading up to a small inside room, the interior of which is visible +through its open blinds; a table is there, with cover set, lighted by a +Flemish chandelier. A wooden gallery at the top of the staircase leads +seemingly to other rooms of the same sort._ + +_In the centre of the shop, an iron ring is hung: it can be lowered by +means of a pulley, and on it are large pieces of game, meat, hams, etc. +It forms a peculiar sort of chandelier._ + +_Under the staircase, the glow of several ovens. Copper saucepans shine. +Spits are turning. Morning activity. Cook-boys run in and out. Fat chefs +are seen now and then. Loads of cakes and meat-pies are brought in on +willow trays._ + +_Tables are garnished with cakes and eatables. Other tables, with chairs +around, are prepared for customers. A small table in a corner is covered +with papers. Before it is seated Ragueneau, who is writing, as the +curtain rises._ + + + _SCENE I._ + + RAGUENEAU, PASTRY-COOKS, _then_ LISE. RAGUENEAU _is + writing and counts on his fingers_. + + FIRST PASTRY-COOK (_bearing a dish_). + +Candied fruits! + + SECOND PASTRY-COOK (_with another dish_). + +Pie! + + THIRD PASTRY-COOK (_with a roast_). + +Peacock! + + FOURTH PASTRY-COOK (_with a tray_). + +Cakes! + + FIFTH PASTRY-COOK (_with an earthen bowl_). + +Stewed beef! + + RAGUENEAU (_stops writing and looks up_). + + The copper's yellow sheen is silvered by the dawn[12] + Now smother, Ragueneau, the godly notes you love! + Sweet poesy must wait--just now is cooking time! + + (_He rises. To one of the cooks_). + +Look here! Your sauce is thick, and you must lengthen it. + + COOK. + +How much? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Three feet. + + (_Passes on._) + + O Muse, keep thou aloof, or else your pleading eyes + Will suffer from the glare of vulgar fires here! + + (_to one of the pastry-cooks_). + + These loaves are badly set, the split should not be thus, + Cesuras should be placed between the hemstitches. + + (_to another, pointing to an unfinished meat-pie_). + + This palace made of crust is fine, but needs a roof. + + (_to an apprentice boy who, seated on the floor, is running a fowl + on a spit_). + + The spit is long enough for chickens, turkeys, all, + But alternate, my boy, and imitate Malherbe: + His lines the longest were relieved by shorter ones. + Do you the same, prepare real stanzas on the spit! + + ANOTHER APPRENTICE (_carrying a tray over + which is a large napkin_). + + Dear Master, this for you was in the oven cooked. + We wish to please you, Sir! + + RAGUENEAU. + + A lyre! + + THE APPRENTICE. + + Made of paste! + + RAGUENEAU (_moved_). + +Of candied fruits besides! And strings of sugar, too! + + THE APPRENTICE. + +To give a sweeter tone! + + RAGUENEAU (_handing him some money_). + + It's fine; go drink my health + + (_seeing Lise, as she enters_). + +My wife! Be silent--skip! + + (_to Lise, showing her the lyre_). + + Fine work! + + LISE. + + Ridiculous! + + (_She lays on the counter a bundle of paper bags._) + + RAGUENEAU. + +Some bags; I thank you, dear. + + (_Looks at the bags._) + + The manuscripts I love! + The verses of my friends! All mutilated! Torn! + To serve as wrappers for .... such prosy things as cakes! + It's Orpheus once again pursued by the Bacchantes! + + LISE (_harshly_). + + I use the only thing your friends in payment give; + Your sorry scribblers bent on not completing lines! + + RAGUENEAU. + + The ant should not insult the magic cricket's song! + + LISE. + + Before these crickets thus possessed you wholly, dear, + You never said to me: bacchante, or even: ant! + + RAGUENEAU. + + Treat verses thus! + + LISE. + + Why not? + + RAGUENEAU. + + What would you do with prose? + + [12] Note.--Alexandrines were adopted, instead of pentameter, here and + further on, with the poets, for the reason that they seem more + pompous and better in keeping with the affectation shown by the + personages. + + + _SCENE II._ + + _The same_, TWO CHILDREN _come in to buy cakes_. + + RAGUENEAU. + +What is it, little ones? + + FIRST CHILD. + +We want three patties, please. + + RAGUENEAU (_serving them_). + +Here they are, well-browned, just out of the oven. + + SECOND CHILD. + +Please wrap them up for us. + + RAGUENEAU (_aside_). + +Alas! my bags! + + (_to the children_). Oh! wrap them up, hey?.... + + (_takes one of the bags to use it, but first reads from it_). + +"As was Ulysses when he left Penelope...." +Not this one!.... + + (_puts the bag aside, and takes up another, from which also he + reads_). + +"Blond Phoebus...." Not this one! + + (_Sets the bag aside._) + + LISE (_out of patience_). + +Well, what are you waiting for? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Coming! Coming! + + (_takes up a third bag and then with resignation_). + +The sonnet to Philis!.... pretty hard too! + + LISE. + +You were long enough about it! + + (_shrugging her shoulders_). + +Goose! + + (_She climbs upon a chair to arrange dishes and plates on a + shelf._) + + RAGUENEAU (_taking advantage of the fact that + her back is turned, calls back the children + who were just passing out_). + +Pst!.... Little ones!.... Return me the bag and instead of three patties +I'll give you six. + + (_The children give him the bag, take the cakes and leave. + Ragueneau smoothes the paper and reads_). + +"Philis!" .... On this sweet name, a grease spot!.... "Philis!" + + (_Cyrano enters abruptly._) + + + _SCENE III._ + + RAGUENEAU, LISE, CYRANO, _then_ A MUSKETEER. + + CYRANO. + +What time is it? + + RAGUENEAU (_bowing low to him_). + +Six o'clock. + + CYRANO (_excited_). + +In one hour! + + (_Walks to and fro through the shop._) + + RAGUENEAU (_following him_). + +Bravo! I witnessed.... + + CYRANO. + +What? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Your fight. + + CYRANO. + +Which one? + + RAGUENEAU. + +The one at the Hôtel de Bourgogne. + + CYRANO (_disdainfully_). + +Oh!.... that duel!.... + + RAGUENEAU (_admiringly_). + +Yes, your duel in verse. + + LISE (_aside_). + +In verse!.... His mouth seems to him too small for the words! + + CYRANO (_to Ragueneau_). + +Ah!.... So much the better! + + RAGUENEAU (_lunging with the spit he has seized_). + + "For, when I close th' Envoy, I'll touch!...." + "For, when I close th' Envoy, I'll touch!...." + How beautiful!.... (_with growing enthusiasm_). + "For, when I close th' Envoy,...." + + CYRANO. + +Ragueneau, what time is it? + + RAGUENEAU (_remaining with arm and leg outstretched, + simply turning his head to look at the clock_). + +Five minutes after six!.... + "I touch!" + + (_He rises._) + +Oh! to write a ballade! + + LISE (_to Cyrano, who, on passing near her, has + absent-mindedly shaken hands with her_). + +Why! what is the matter with your hand? + + CYRANO. + +Oh! nothing! A scratch. + + RAGUENEAU. + +Were you exposed to any peril? + + CYRANO. + +No peril! + + LISE (_threatening him with her finger_). + +I fear you are not telling the truth! + + CYRANO. + +What! Did my nose move? What an enormous lie that would indicate! +(_becoming serious_). I expect somebody here. If that somebody +comes--you never can tell,--please leave us here alone. + + RAGUENEAU. + +That is hardly possible; my rimesters[13] are coming.... + + LISE (_ironical_). + +For their first meal. + + CYRANO. + +You will have to take them away when I make a sign to you.... What time +is it? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Ten minutes after six. + + CYRANO (_sitting down nervously at Ragueneau's + table, and taking some paper_). + +A pen, please!.... + + RAGUENEAU (_offering him the one that he has + behind his ear_). + +A swan quill. + + A MUSKETEER (_with an enormous mustache and + stentorian voice_) _enters_. + +Good morning! + + (_Lise goes rapidly up to him._) + + CYRANO (_turning around_). + +Who is this? + + RAGUENEAU. + +A friend of my wife's. A terrible warrior,--at least so he says!.... + + CYRANO (_taking up the pen and motioning + away Ragueneau_). + +Silence!.... write--fold,--(_to himself_) hand it to her,--and run +away.... + + (_throwing away the pen_). Coward!....But may I die if I dare speak + to her, even a single word.... + + (_to Ragueneau_). What time is it? + + RAGUENEAU. + +A quarter past six!.... + + CYRANO (_striking his breast_). + +But I have plenty of words here, and by writing.... + + (_Takes up the pen._) + + So be it then! I'll write.--This letter fraught + With love, I've thought it out a hundred times; + It's ready, and, to close it, I have but + To read my soul, and copy what I read. + + (_He writes. Behind the glazed door, a movement of lean and + hesitating forms._) + + [13] Note.--The spelling _rime_ seems preferable to _rhyme_, since + rime and rhythm are two very distinct things. + + + _SCENE IV._ + + RAGUENEAU, LISE, THE MUSKETEER, CYRANO, _by the table, + writing_, THE POETS, _clad in black, bedraggled_. + + LISE (_entering, to Ragueneau_). + +Here are your bedraggled friends! + + FIRST POET (_entering, to Ragueneau_). + +Brother-poet!.... + + SECOND POET (_shaking Ragueneau by the hand_). + +Dear brother-poet! + + THIRD POET. + +Eagle of pastry-cooks! + + (_sniffing_) It smells good in your nest. + + FOURTH POET. + +O Phoebus-Caterer! Apollo master-cook!.... + + RAGUENEAU (_somewhat bewildered_). + +How soon one feels at ease with them! + + FIRST POET. + + We were delayed a bit by something of a crowd, + Close by the Porte de Nesle!.... + + SECOND POET. + + By sword both slashed and pierced, + Eight cut-throats bleeding fast illustrated the street. + + CYRANO (_looking up_). + +Eight?.... I thought seven. + + (_continues writing._) + + RAGUENEAU (_to Cyrano_). + +Who fought so bravely? Do you know? + + CYRANO (_treating the matter lightly_). + +I?.... No! + + LISE (_to the Musketeer_). + +Do you? + + MUSKETEER (_curling his mustache_). + +Perhaps. + + CYRANO (_writing--mutters a word now and then, aside_). + +I love you.... + + FIRST POET. + +A single man, they say, put all the band to flight!.... + + CYRANO (_writing_). + +Your eyes!.... + + SECOND POET. + +Why! Spears and hats were found a hundred yards away! + + CYRANO (_writing_). + +Your lips!.... + + FIRST POET. + +Quite fearless must be he who fought so many thus. + + CYRANO (_writing_). + +And I am like to faint, outdone, when you appear. + + SECOND POET (_helping himself to a cake_). + +What new rimes can you give us, Ragueneau? + + CYRANO (_writing_). + +Who loves you!.... + + (_He stops just as he was going to sign, rises, folds the letter + and puts it into his doublet._) + +Signature unnecessary. I'll hand her the letter myself. + + RAGUENEAU (_to Second Poet_). + +I have put a recipe into verse. + + THIRD POET (_settling near a tray of tarts_). + +Oh! let us hear the lines. + + FOURTH POET. + +This cake is crooked. Make it straight. + + (_Eats it._) + + SECOND POET. + +We are listening. + + THIRD POET. + +This tart will lose its cream. We'll save it. + + (_Eats the tart._) + + SECOND POET (_breaking off and eating a piece of + the candied lyre_). + +The only time perhaps a lyre's fed its man. + + RAGUENEAU (_who has been preparing to recite, + coughing, settling his cap and striking an + attitude_). + +A recipe in verse.... + + SECOND POET (_to First Poet_). + +Why! you are breakfasting! + + FIRST POET (_to Second Poet_). + + And you are dining, friend! + + RAGUENEAU. + + HOW TO MAKE ALMOND TARTS. + + Beat up to foam, discarding dregs, + Your choice of eggs. + Add carefully into the foam + Some citron juice that's new and stout; + Then lengthen out + With milk of almonds made at home. + + Next, coat with dough, both fresh and sound, + Below, around, + Such moulds as pastry-cooks prepare. + Add sweetening to suit your taste + Into the paste. + Then pour quite slowly and with care + + Your foam into each well[14], so well + That ev'ry well, + When it is baked to blondness, starts + To seek the walks that pleasure sings. + These seemly things + Are rightly christened: almond tarts. + + THE POETS (_mouths full_). + +Most exquisite! Divine! + + ONE OF THE POETS (_choking_). + +Humph! + + (_They go to the rear, still eating. Cyrano, who has been watching + them, goes up to Ragueneau._) + + CYRANO. + + They seem to drink your verse, my friend; but see you not + How they assimilate your stock of eatables? + + RAGUENEAU (_in low tone, smiling_). + + I see, but notice not, for fear I'd trouble them; + And reading so my lines affords me double joy, + Since thus I satisfy a weakness that I own, + And feed the while poor souls whose pressing need is food! + + CYRANO (_striking him on the shoulder_). + +I like you, Ragueneau!.... + + (_Ragueneau joins his friends, the poets. Cyrano looks at him for a + while, then suddenly says:_) + +Tell me there, Lise! + + (_Lise, who seems to be engaged in a very animated flirtation with + the Musketeer, starts and comes down to Cyrano._) + +This captain.... seems to be besieging you? + + LISE (_offended_). + +Oh! my eyes have a look haughty enough to vanquish all who attack my +virtue. + + CYRANO (_very firmly_). + +I like Ragueneau very much. For this reason, Mistress Lise, I forbid +that anybody should make him ridiculous.[15] + + LISE. + +But you mistake.... + + CYRANO (_speaking loud, so as to be heard by + the Musketeer_). + +A word to the wise.... + + (_He bows to the Musketeer, and, after looking at the clock, goes + to the door, where he stands looking out._) + + LISE (_to the Musketeer, who simply returned + Cyrano's bow_). + +Really, you surprise me!.... Why do you not answer?.... Speak of his +nose.... + + THE MUSKETEER. + +His nose.... his nose.... that is easily said.... + + (_Retires rapidly, Lise following._) + + CYRANO (_from the door, signals to Ragueneau to + draw away the poets_). + +Pst!.... + + RAGUENEAU (_pointing out to the Poets the door + to the right_). + +We shall be much more comfortable in there.... + + CYRANO (_getting out of patience_). + +Pst!.... Pst!.... + + RAGUENEAU (_pushing the Poets along_). + +We'll read some more verses. + + FIRST POET (_in despair, with his mouth full_). + +But the cakes!.... + + SECOND POET. + +Let us take them along. + + (_They all go out, following Ragueneau, in a sort of procession, + after having loaded themselves with cakes._) + + [14] Note.--The miserable pun on "puits" (well) was found possible to + reproduce. Needless to add that this is ambitious confectioner's + verse, intentionally nonsensical. + + [15] Note.--_Ridicuckoldulous_ would be an exact translation. + + + _SCENE V._ + + CYRANO, ROXANE, THE DUENNA. + + CYRANO. + +I shall hand her my letter if I feel that there is any hope, however +slight!.... + + (_Roxane, masked, and followed by the Duenna, appears behind the + glazed door, that Cyrano opens eagerly._) + +Be pleased to enter!.... + + (_Walking up to the Duenna_). As to you, Duenna, one word! + + DUENNA. + +Four words, if you will, Sir. + + CYRANO. + +Are you fond of cake and such? + + DUENNA. + +To and beyond excess.[16] + + CYRANO (_taking paper bags from the counter_). + +Good! Here are two sonnets.... + + DUENNA. + +Ugh! + + CYRANO. + +....That I fill with tartlets. + + DUENNA (_looking pleasant_). + +Ah! + + CYRANO. + +Are you fond of cream cakes? + + DUENNA. + +More than fond when they contain too much cream! + + CYRANO. + +Here are six for you, wrapped in a poem. Do you like all cakes? + + DUENNA. + +All, all, all. + + CYRANO (_loading her with paper bags full of cakes_). + +Here are a few. Go now and eat them.... outside. + + DUENNA. + +But I.... + + CYRANO (_pushing her out_). + +And do not return until you have eaten them all. + + (_He closes the door, comes down toward Roxane, takes off his hat, + and stops, respectfully, at a distance._) + + [16] Note.--The Duenna, like Roxane, is a "précieuse," an euphuist. + + + _SCENE VI._ + + CYRANO, ROXANE, _and, a moment_, THE DUENNA. + + CYRANO. + + Among all moments be the present blessed, + Since, ceasing to forget that I exist,-- + However humbly--you have come to say.... + To say.... + + ROXANE (_who has unmasked_). + + To say: I thank you heartily. + For, know you now, the fop, the brainless wretch + You vanquished yesterday in noble strife, + Was being forced upon me.... + + (_bashfully_) + + ....As a mate + For life, by one who says he loves me.... + + CYRANO. + + Guiche!.... + Who's good at scheming thus.... + + (_saluting_) + + So then I fought, + Not for my nose, but for your smiling eyes. + + ROXANE. + + And then I wished.... but the admission needs + That I should find in you.... the brother that + You were of yore....when we were children both. + + CYRANO. + + When Bergerac was our summer ground.... + + ROXANE. + + And reeds made up your goodly stock of swords.... + + CYRANO. + + While waving corn gave flowing hair for dolls. + + ROXANE. + + What happy days! For you my will was law.... + + CYRANO. + + You're now Roxane; you then were Madeleine. + + ROXANE. + + And pretty? + + CYRANO. + + You were not a sorry sight. + + ROXANE. + + How often, romping, you would get a hurt! + Then, motherly, I'd say, in sternest voice: + "Another frolic and another scratch!".... + + (_She stops astonished._) + +The same to-day! What's this? + + (_Cyrano tries to withdraw his hand._) + + No, let me see! + You're still a boy, it seems.--Say when and how! + + CYRANO. + +At play just now, around the Porte de Nesle. + + ROXANE (_taking a seat at one of the tables, and + wetting her handkerchief in a glass of water_). + +Your hand! + + CYRANO (_taking a seat near her_). + + How gently thoughtful you've remained! + + ROXANE. + +How many foes? + + CYRANO. + + Not quite a hundred. + + ROXANE. + + Oh! +Do tell me all! + + CYRANO. + + What for? It's better far + You tell me what you did not dare to say.... + + ROXANE. + + But now I dare. The memories of yore + Assist me. I'm....in love with somebody. + + CYRANO. + +Indeed! + + ROXANE. + + Who knows it not.... + + CYRANO. + + Indeed! + + ROXANE. + + .... Not yet. + + CYRANO. + +Indeed! + + ROXANE. + + But he shall know it soon. + + CYRANO. + + Indeed! + + ROXANE. + + Poor fellow, he has loved me timidly, + And from afar, and never dared to speak! + + CYRANO. + +Indeed! + + ROXANE. + +Your hand is feverish.... Oh! I easily could see the truth beneath his +bashfulness! + + CYRANO. + +Indeed!.... + + ROXANE (_as she finished bandaging his hand_). + +And see what a coincidence, dear cousin! He belongs to your regiment! + + CYRANO. + +Indeed!.... + + ROXANE (_laughing_). + +Why, of course, he is a cadet in your Company!.... + + CYRANO. + +Indeed! + + ROXANE. + +He bears on his brow the mark of intelligence, of genius! +He is haughty, noble, young, intrepid, handsome,.... + + CYRANO (_rising, very pale_). + +Handsome! + + ROXANE. + +Why! what is the matter? + + CYRANO. + +The matter? Nothing .... It is .... It is .... + + (_Showing his hand and smiling_). This little scratch. + + ROXANE. + +Oh! Well, I really love him. I must say, however, that I have seen him +only at the Theatre .... + + CYRANO. + +Then you have not spoken to each other? + + ROXANE. + +Our eyes alone have done the talking. + + CYRANO. + +Well, then, how do you know? + + ROXANE. + +Beneath the linden trees of the Place Royal there is some gossipping +.... and information has reached me .... + + CYRANO. + +He is a cadet, you say? + + ROXANE. + +Yes, a cadet in the Guards. + + CYRANO. + +His name? + + ROXANE. + +Baron Christian de Neuvillette. + + CYRANO. + +How?.... There is nobody of that name among the cadets. + + ROXANE. + +Oh! yes, there is, since this morning. His Captain is Carbon of +Haughty-Hall. + + CYRANO. + +And so, quick, quick, we throw away our little heart?.... But my poor +child.... + + THE DUENNA (_looking in at the door_). + +Monsieur de Bergerac, I have finished the cakes! + + CYRANO. + +Well, then, read the verses that you will find on the bags! + + (_Duenna disappears._) + +.... My poor child, for you who are accustomed to refined language, to +subtle thoughts,--suppose he were thoroughly uninitiated, in fact, a +savage! + + ROXANE. + +Oh! no, he has the hair of a hero! + + CYRANO. + +Suppose he were as poor in speech as rich in hair. + + ROXANE. + +No, all his words are choice; I can tell by seeing him. + + CYRANO. + +Of course, all words are choice when they come through a mustache that +is well curled.--But suppose he were a dunce!.... + + ROXANE (_striking the floor with her foot, impatiently_). + +Well, it would kill me! There! + + CYRANO (_after a pause_). + +And it is to tell me this that you asked me to meet you here? I fail to +see the necessity of the appointment, Madam. + + ROXANE. + +The fact is that somebody frightened me yesterday by telling me that you +are all Gascons in your Company.... + + CYRANO. + +And that we challenge any beardless hero who, through influence, and not +being really a Gascon, manages to get assigned to our Gascon Company? +That is what you were told. + + ROXANE. + +And you imagine how I tremble for him? + + CYRANO (_between his teeth_). + +Not without good reason! + + ROXANE. + +But then I was reminded of you, and of your skill and courage, your +great achievements; and I thought: if he, Cyrano, whom everyone +respects, would.... + + CYRANO. + +'Tis well. I'll answer for your little baron. + + ROXANE. + +Yes, defend him always, please. And many thanks! You know how fond of +you I've always been? + + CYRANO. + +Oh! yes, I know. + + ROXANE. + +You'll be his friend? + + CYRANO. + +I will. + + ROXANE. + +And he shall have no duels to fight. + + CYRANO. + +None; you have my promise. + + ROXANE. + +Ah! you are my dearest friend.--But I must go. + + (_She puts on her mask again, throws a lace scarf over her head, + and then, in an unconcerned way says:_) + +But you did not relate to me your battle of last night. You must have +been grand!.... Tell him to write me. + + (_Sends him a kiss with her hand._) + +Dear, dear friend! + + CYRANO. + +All is understood. + + ROXANE. + +One hundred men against one: you!--So, good bye!--We are the best of +friends, are we not? + + CYRANO. + +Assuredly, we are! + + ROXANE. + +Tell him to write!.... One hundred men!.... You'll tell me all about it +later. To-day I cannot listen. One hundred men! How brave! + + CYRANO (_bowing_). + +Oh! I have done better since. + + (_Exit Roxane. Cyrano remains motionless, his eyes on the floor. + Silence. The door to the right opens, and Ragueneau passes in his + head._) + + + _SCENE VII._ + + CYRANO, RAGUENEAU, THE POETS, CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL, + THE CADETS, THE CROWD, _etc._, _later_ LE BRET, + _and then_ GUICHE. + + RAGUENEAU. + +The coast is clear? + + CYRANO (_motionless_). + +Yes. + + (_Ragueneau makes a sign, and his friends come in. At the same + moment appears in the doorway Carbon of Haughty-Hall, in full + uniform of Captain of the Guards; he lifts his arms on discovering + Cyrano._) + + CARBON. + +Here he is at last! + + CYRANO (_raising his eyes_). + +Captain!.... + + CARBON (_rejoiced_). + +Our hero! We heard it all. Thirty at least of the Cadets are here!.... + + CYRANO (_falling back_). + +But, Captain.... + + CARBON (_trying to take him along_). + +Come! They wish to see you! + + CYRANO. + +No, I cannot! + + CARBON. + +They are over the way, at the Inn of the Cross. + + CYRANO. + +I cannot. + + CARBON (_going to the door and shouting outside_). + +Our hero refuses. He is out of sorts! + + A VOICE (_outside_). + +Sandious![17] + + (_Noise outside. Sound of swords and boots drawing near._) + + CARBON (_rubbing his hands_). + +They are crossing the street!.... + + THE CADETS (_invading the shop_). + +Milledious!--Capededious!--Mordious!--Pocapdedious! + + RAGUENEAU (_retreating in terror_). + +Why, gentlemen, are you all from Gascony? + + THE CADETS. + +Everyone of us! + + A CADET (_to Cyrano_). + +Bravo! + + CYRANO. + +Baron, yours!.... + + ANOTHER CADET (_shaking Cyrano's hand_). + +Bravo! + + CYRANO. + +Yours, baron! + + THIRD CADET. + +Allow me to embrace you! + + CYRANO. + +Baron, baron! + + SEVERAL CADETS. + +Let us all embrace him! + + CYRANO. + +Baron.... baron.... spare me!.... + + RAGUENEAU. + +But, gentlemen, are you all barons? + + THE CADETS. + +All of us! + + FIRST CADET. + +With our coronets alone you could build a tower. + + LE BRET (_enters and runs up to Cyrano_). + +An enthusiastic crowd is looking for you! + + CYRANO (_frightened_). + +You didn't tell them where I am? + + LE BRET (_rubbing his hands_). + +Of course I did! + + (_The street is crowded with pedestrians, chaises and coaches, all + stopping before the door._) + +You saw Roxane? + + CYRANO (_rapidly_). + +Be silent! + + THE CROWD (_outside_). + +Cyrano! Cyrano! + + (_They invade the shop, pushing each other, and shower Cyrano with + congratulations._) + + RAGUENEAU (_standing on a table_). + +My shop is taken by storm! and almost wrecked! Beautiful! Beautiful! + + PEOPLE AROUND CYRANO. + +Dear friend!.... Brave friend.... Heroic friend!.... + + CYRANO. + +Yesterday I had nothing like as many friends!.... + + LE BRET (_delighted_). + +Success, you see! Success! + + A MARQUIS (_running up with extended hands_). + +If you only knew, dear boy.... + + CYRANO. + +Dear boy? Dear boy? On what field did we ever camp together? + + MARQUIS. + +I should be pleased to present you, Sir, to some ladies who are outside +in my coach. + + CYRANO. + +But, first, you--who will present you to me? + + LE BRET (_dumbfounded_). + +Why! friend, what ails you? + + CYRANO. + +Be silent, please! + + A MAN OF LETTERS (_with pen and tablets_). + +May I not gather some details.... + + CYRANO. + +You may not! + + LE BRET (_aside to Cyrano_). + +But this is Theophraste Renaudot, who invented the gazette! + + CYRANO. + +I care not! + + LE BRET. + +.... That sheet in which are found so many things of interest. The idea, +it is said, has before it a great future. + + A POET. + +Dear Sir, I desire to build upon your name a pentacrostic. + + ANOTHER POET. + +I desire, dear Sir,.... + + CYRANO. + +Enough! Enough! + + (_Movement. The crowd becomes more orderly and opens. Guiche + appears, with an escort of officers: Cuigy, Brissaille, the + officers who accompanied Cyrano at the close of Act I._) + + CUIGY (_running up to Cyrano_). + +Here is Monsieur de Guiche! He is sent by Marshal de Gassion! + + GUICHE (_bowing to Cyrano_). + +.... Who desires to express to you, Sir, his admiration for the +wonderful prowess that we have just heard of. + + THE CROWD. + +Bravo! Bravo! + + CYRANO (_bowing_). + +The Marshal is a connoisseur in deeds of valour. + + GUICHE. + +He never would have believed the feat possible, if these gentlemen had +not sworn that they witnessed it. + + CUIGY. + +With our own good eyes! + + LE BRET (_aside, to Cyrano, who seems lost in thought_). + +My good friend.... + + CYRANO (_to Le Bret_). + +Be silent! + + LE BRET (_aside to Cyrano_). + +You seem to suffer! + + CYRANO (_awakening and drawing himself up_). + +Before all these people!.... I .... Suffer!.... Watch, and you shall +see. + + GUICHE (_to whom Cuigy has whispered a few words_). + +All know that you have accomplished wonders before this. You are serving +the King with these hare-brained Gascons, are you not? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, with the cadets. + + A CADET (_in stentorian tones_). + +With us! + + GUICHE (_looking at the Gascons, who have + aligned behind Cyrano_). + +Ah! ah!.... So these haughty-looking gentlemen are the famous.... + + CARBON. + +Cyrano! + + CYRANO. + +Captain? + + CARBON. + +Since my Company is all here, I believe, present it to the Count, if you +please. + + CYRANO (_taking two steps toward Guiche, and + pointing to the Cadets_). + + Fair Gascony's cadets are they, + With Carbon--He of Haughty-Hall;[18] + They fight and lie without dismay, + Fair Gascony's cadets are they! + In heraldry they've all to say, + And pedigrees like theirs appall. + Fair Gascony's cadets are they, + With Carbon--He of Haughty-Hall! + + With eagle eye, in crane's array, + With cat's mustache, and tooth for all, + Through rabble growling as they may, + With eagle eye, in crane's array, + They strut with hats in sad decay + Beneath their plumes so bright and tall! + With eagle eye, in crane's array, + With cat's mustache, and tooth for all! + + Abdomen-Blade and Slash-Away + Are names to them of pleasant fall. + They thirst for glory night and day + Abdomen-Blade and Slash-Away! + In every battle brawl, or fray.... + They congregate as for a ball.... + Abdomen-Blade and Slash-Away + Are names to them of pleasant fall! + + Fair Gascony's cadets are they + To husbands....writing on the wall! + O woman, wench of godly clay, + Fair Gascony's cadets are they! + Though jealous masters fume and bray, + Let trumpet sound! Let cuckoo call! + Fair Gascony's cadets are they, + To husbands, writing on the wall! + + GUICHE (_comfortably seated in an armchair that + Ragueneau promptly brought in_). + +A poet is one of our choice luxuries to-day. Will you be mine? + + CYRANO. + +No, Sir, nobody's! + + GUICHE. + +Your ready wit, yesterday, caused much amusement to my uncle Richelieu. +I shall take pleasure in recommending you to him. + + LE BRET (_dazzled_). + +What a good fortune! + + GUICHE. + +You certainly must have rimed some five-act tragedy? + + LE BRET (_whispering to Cyrano_). + +Your "Agrippine!" You'll have it played! + + GUICHE. + +Yes, take your work to the Cardinal. + + CYRANO (_delighted and tempted_). + +But, really.... + + GUICHE. + +He is quite an expert, but will not make too many corrections! + + CYRANO (_whose face has immediately resumed + its severe look_). + +Impossible, Sir! My blood curdles at the thought of my verse being +improved by the displacement or the addition of a single comma. + + GUICHE. + +But, on the other hand, my dear fellow, when a line pleases him, he pays +for it a large price. + + CYRANO. + +Not so large a one as I myself pay. When I have written a line and then +I fall in love with it, I buy it from and sing it to myself. + + GUICHE. + +Your disposition is a proud one! + + CYRANO. + +Really, you noticed it? + + A CADET (_enters with, strung on a sword, a number + of hats, crushed, pierced and very much dejected as + to plumes_). + +Behold, Cyrano! This morning, on the quay, we found this sorry feathered +game. The hats of those you put to flight!.... + + CARBON. + +Spolia opima! + + (_Everybody laughs ._) + + CUIGY. + +Whoever paid these cut-throats must to-day regret his bargain. + + BRISSAILLE. + +Does anyone know who it is? + + GUICHE. + +It is I! + + (_Laughing stops short._) + +I had hired them--a nobleman is above doing these things himself--to +chastise--a drunkard rimester. + + (_General embarrassment._) + + THE CADET (_aside to Cyrano, pointing to the hats_). + +What shall we do with them? They are greasy enough to make a stew. + + CYRANO (_taking the sword on which the hats are + strung, and allowing them, as he salutes, to + slip off at the feet of Guiche_). + +You may desire, Sir, to return them to your friends. + + GUICHE (_rising and in sharp tones_). + +My chair, immediately! + + (_to Cyrano, angrily_). + +As to you, Sir!.... + + A VOICE (_in the street_). + +The chair of his lordship Count de Guiche. + + GUICHE (_who has conquered his feelings and now smiles_). + +No doubt you've read Don Quixote? + + CYRANO. + + Yes, and, when + I hear the name of this enthusiast, + I doff my hat. + + GUICHE. + + Then kindly meditate + The windmill chapter.... + + CYRANO (_bowing_). + + Yes,--I know--thirteenth. + + GUICHE. + +When windmills are attacked it happens oft.... + + CYRANO. + +Have I attacked some noble weather-vane? + + GUICHE. + + That, if their mighty arms revolve, a man + Is dashed to earth!.... + + CYRANO. + + Or lifted to the stars! + + (_Exit Guiche, who enters his chair. His friends, whispering. Crowd + withdraws._) + + + _SCENE VIII._ + + CYRANO, LE BRET, THE CADETS, _who have taken seats at the + tables, and are eating and drinking_. + + CYRANO (_bowing out in an affectedly polite way + those who are leaving without taking any + further notice of him_). + +Gentlemen--delighted--Delighted--gentlemen-- + + LE BRET (_lifting his arms in despair_). + +A pretty mess you've made of it! + + CYRANO. + +Oh! of course! As usual, you must growl! + + LE BRET. + +Come, now, you must admit that this constant assassination--that is the +word--of every passing opportunity is, to say the least, a gross +exaggeration. + + CYRANO. + +Well, yes, I do exaggerate. There! + + LE BRET (_triumphant_). + +You see! + + CYRANO. + +But I do so as a matter of principle, for the sake of example. In my +opinion, such exaggeration is good. + + LE BRET. + + Suppose you set aside, a while, your soul + Heroic and success.... + + CYRANO. + + What should I do?.... + Set out to find a power, influence, + A master, then? A lowly ivy be + That licks the trunk it uses for support? + Creep up by stealth, instead of rising strong? + I thank you, no!--Inscribe the verse I write + To money bags, and play the low buffoon, + To cause, on lips that I despise, a smile? + I thank you, no! For breakfast eat a toad? + Wear out, or soil, especially my knees? + Forever prove how pliant is a spine? + I thank you, no! Give--only to exact? + Have ready praise for all, and strive to be + A pygmy hero in a puny ring? + I thank you, no! Ask publishers to print + My verse--at my expense? I thank you, no! + Seek favour from the solemn councils held + By pompous fools in taverns and the like? + I thank you, no! Or try to build a name + Upon a single sonnet, sooner than + Write other sonnets? No. I thank you, no! + Be terrorized by journals vague and small, + And hope the while they'll not forget me? No, + I thank you! Ever weigh, observe and fear? + Place gossip far above poetic lines? + Solicit, beg, crave notoriety? + I thank you, no! I thank you, nay!.... But, oh!.... + To sing, to dream, to laugh, to be alone + And free, with eyes that naught will cause to turn, + And with a voice that naught will cause to shake! + To cock your hat, if you feel so disposed: + For this, or that, to fight--or write a verse! + To plan, without a thought of gold or fame, + A novel trip, perhaps unto the moon! + To write but what is honestly your own, + And, diffident for once, reflect: my boy, + Be satisfied with flower, fruit.... or leaf, + If they have grown on soil that's strictly yours! + Then, if perchance a bit of fame is earned, + To feel that none of it to Cæsar's due! + The truth is there, and so is honesty: + Despise to ape the ivy-parasite, + And try to be an oak, or elm, to rise, + Not very high, perhaps, but rise alone! + + LE BRET. + + Alone, you're right! But not opposing all! + Why should you make so many enemies? + + CYRANO. + + Because I see you make so many friends, + And smile on them with mouths I'll not describe.[19] + I'm glad to pass with fewer greetings met, + And proud to think: another enemy! + + LE BRET. + + You are insane! + + CYRANO. + + Perhaps. My vice is such. + I'm pleased if I displease. Indeed, I love + To gather hatred. Friend, you've never felt + The thrill that's caused by walking on erect, + While fifty pairs of eyes are sending shot, + As if they were so many guns! And then.... + How comical the spots on doublets made + By envy's gall and cowardice's slaver! + --Loose friendships like to those you cultivate + Resemble the Italian collars, soft + And open-worked, that feminize your necks. + They're easy and of tranquil-going mien; + Your head with them can bend to any will. + Not so with me! For Hatred, every morn, + Makes stiff the ruff that forces up my head! + An enemy I gain's another fold + That straightens me the more, perhaps, but adds + A beam to my renown. The Spanish ruff, + Though sitting on the neck as would a yoke, + With some can be a halo 'round the head! + + LE BRET (_after a pause, passing his arm through Cyrano's_). + + Speak out aloud your pride and bitterness, + But whisper to me then: she loves me not! + + [17] Note.--This is a Gascon oath. Like the similar oaths following, + it would if translated literally (Blood of God,) lose its + picturesque and really innocent character. All of these are + oath-sounds rather than oaths, and somewhat oath-evading, after + the fashion of "goldarn it," in America. + + [18] Note.--The name "Castel-Jaloux," in the original, being + indicative of Gascon pride and superlativeness, it was thought + better to translate it in order to preserve colour. But here + arose the question: "Him" or "He" of Haughty-Hall? Both cases + have their champions, with most excellent reasons. It was + thought, however, that argument might be avoided and the line be + made more effective by the insertion of a dash after "Carbon," + thus leaving time for the imaginary interrogation: "What Carbon?" + following which suspension, the answer is. "He of Haughty-Hall" + is the Carbon meant. + + [19] Note.--The text here, justified by a current French expression, + would be too broad in English. + + + _SCENE IX._ + + CYRANO, LE BRET, THE CADETS, CHRISTIAN DE NEUVILLETTE. + + A CADET (_seated at a table in the rear, drinking_). + +Cyrano! + + (_Cyrano turns._) + +That narrative, please. + + CYRANO. + +Yes, presently! + + (_He takes the arm of Le Bret, going up and speaking in low tone to + him._) + + THE CADET (_rising and coming down_). + +The details of the fight! They will make the best kind of lesson.... +(_stopping near the table before which Christian is seated_) for a timid +apprentice! + + CHRISTIAN (_looking up_). + +Apprentice! + + ANOTHER CADET. + +Just so, sickly northerner! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Sickly! + + FIRST CADET (_sneeringly_). + +Monsieur de Neuvillette, there's something you must learn, to wit: there +exists a thing that, with us, must never be even alluded to--no more +than a rope in the house of one who was hung. + + CHRISTIAN. + +And what is that? + + ANOTHER CADET (_in terrifying tone_). + +Look at me! + + (_With his finger he, three times, strikes his nose._) + + You understand? + + CHRISTIAN. + +Oh! you mean the.... + + ANOTHER CADET. + +Hush!.... The word is never pronounced.... + + (_pointing to Cyrano, who, in the rear, is talking with Le Bret_). + +.... Or else trouble is sure. + + ANOTHER CADET (_who, while Christian was looking + the other way, took a seat on the table_). + +Two men were killed by him because they spoke through the nose--a +subject he dislikes! + + ANOTHER CADET (_springing up from underneath + the table, where he had crawled_). + +Those who desire to die young have but to come here and speak of the +fatal cartilage. + + ANOTHER CADET (_placing his hand on Christian's shoulder_). + +One word's enough. Did I say: a word? One motion, just one, suffices. +And drawing out one's handkerchief is equivalent to weaving one's +shroud! + + (_Silence. All the Cadets remain, with folded arms, staring at + Christian. Christian goes up to Carbon of Haughty-Hall, who has + been conversing with an officer and affecting not to notice the + proceedings._) + + CHRISTIAN. + +Captain! + + CARBON (_turning, and with a severe look_). + +Sir? + + CHRISTIAN. + +When one encounters southerners possessed of too much braggadocio.... + + CARBON. + +The right thing to do? Prove to them that you may come from the North +and still be brave. + + (_Carbon turns._) + + CHRISTIAN. + +Captain, I thank you. + + FIRST CADET (_to Cyrano_). + +And now your narrative! + + OTHER CADETS. + +Yes, his narrative! + + CYRANO (_coming down to them_). + +My narrative? Well, here it is! + + (_They gather around him, some seated, some standing. Christian + straddles a chair._) + +Well, then, I was walking along so as to meet them. The moon, in the +sky, looked like a big silver watch; when suddenly some zealous +watch-maker, I suppose, began passing over it, with a view to making it +shine, no doubt, some cloudy cotton. In consequence, the night became as +dark as possible, and, mordious! I could not see further.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Than the end of your nose. + + (_Silence. Everybody rises slowly, frightened, and looking at + Cyrano, whom the interruption has astounded. General expectancy._) + + CYRANO. + +Who is this man? + + A CADET (_in subdued tone_). + +One who joined this morning. + + CYRANO (_going toward Christian_). + +This morning? + + CARBON. + +His name is Baron de Neuvillette. + + CYRANO (_rapidly, stopping_). + +Oh! very well then!.... + + (_He turns pale, then reddens, and appears ready to throw himself + upon Christian._) + +I must.... + + (_restraining himself, however_). + +That is different. (_resuming_). As I was saying.... + + (_with ill-concealed fury_). + +Mordious!.... + + (_continuing in a natural tone_).... I could not see very far. + + (_General stupefaction. All take their seats again, looking at + Cyrano._) + +So, I was walking on, thinking how I was going to disappoint some mighty +lord desirous of pulling.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Your nose!.... + + (_Everybody rises again, while Christian rocks on his chair._) + + CYRANO (_half choking_). + +My ears!.... and how imprudent some people might find me for thus +poking.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Your nose.... + + CYRANO. + +No, my finger, between the tree and the bark. For this great lord might +be powerful enough to rap me.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +On the nose.... + + CYRANO (_wiping the perspiration from his forehead_). + +No, on the fingers. But I said to myself: go ahead, Gascon; do your +duty! On, Cyrano! Then, abruptly, out of the dark, somebody made a lunge +at me. I parried: when suddenly, I found myself.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Nose to nose.... + + CYRANO (_bounding toward him_). + +Ventre--Saint--Gris!.... + + (_All the Gascons advance to witness the scene. But Cyrano, on + coming up to Christian, masters himself, and continues:_) + +Confronted by a hundred drunken rascals.... smelling.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +With their hundred noses.... + + CYRANO (_pale as death, but smiling_). + +....Strongly of onion and garlic! I rushed forward blindly.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Without nosing.... + + CYRANO. + +And charged them! Down went two of them. A third I ran through. They +lunged, I parried, and struck down, how many?.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Who knows!.... + + CYRANO (_bursting with rage_). + +Thunder and lightning! Clear the room! + + (_The Cadets rush toward the door._) + + FIRST CADET. + +The tiger wakes! + + CYRANO. + +All out! Leave me alone with this man! + + SECOND CADET. + +We'll find the fellow in mince-meat. + + RAGUENEAU. + +Mince-meat. Not fit, though, for my pies. + + (_All go out, by the rear, the sides and the staircase. Cyrano and + Christian remain face to face staring at each other fiercely._) + + + _SCENE X._ + + CYRANO, CHRISTIAN. + + CYRANO. + +Embrace me! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Sir!.... + + CYRANO. + +You are brave. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Perhaps. But.... + + CYRANO. + +Very brave. I prefer it so. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Kindly explain.... + + CYRANO. + +Embrace me! I am her brother! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Whose brother? + + CYRANO. + +Her's! Roxane's! + + CHRISTIAN (_running up to him_). + +You! The brother of Roxane? + + CYRANO. + +Well, very much the same: a brotherly cousin. + + CHRISTIAN. + +And she?.... + + CYRANO. + +Told me all! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Does she love me? + + CYRANO. + +Perhaps! + + CHRISTIAN (_taking Cyrano's hands_). + +How happy I feel, Sir, to know you! + + CYRANO. + +Rather a sudden sentiment, is it not? + + CHRISTIAN. + +Forgive me, but.... + + CYRANO (_looking well at him, and laying his + hand on Christian's shoulder_). + +It's a fact. A fine-looking fellow, this rascal! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I only wish you knew, Sir, how much I admire you. + + CYRANO. + +Yes? But what of all those noses that you.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +I withdraw them, Sir! + + CYRANO. + +Roxane expects a letter to-night. + + CHRISTIAN. + +That is the trouble. + + CYRANO. + +How so? + + CHRISTIAN. + +I am lost if I remain silent!.... + + CYRANO. + +Well then?.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +But, I am ashamed to own it, I am too stupid to write. + + CYRANO. + +Stupid? You are not, friend, since you realise your inability. Moreover, +your attack upon me was not that of a dunce. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Oh! it is easy enough to find words for a fight! Yes, perhaps I have a +sort of easy, military wit; but, facing women, I am struck dumb. Oh! +their eyes seem favourable enough as I pass them.... + + CYRANO. + +Are not their hearts the same when you stop? + + CHRISTIAN. + +No, for I belong to those--and I know it--who tremble, and know not how +to speak of love. + + CYRANO. + +Strange!.... It seems to me that, if I were better looking, I should +belong to the other class: those who know and dare. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Oh! that I could with elegance express my feelings! + + CYRANO. + +Or be a pretty little musketeer! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Roxane is a "_précieuse_," and, in her eyes, I shall be disgraced! + + CYRANO (_looking at Christian_). + +Oh! that for the feelings of my soul I had such an interpreter! + + CHRISTIAN (_despairing_). + +What would I not give for eloquence! + + CYRANO (_eagerly_). + +I'll lend you some! Lend you to me your physical attraction, and the two +combined will constitute the hero of a romance. + + CHRISTIAN. + +What then? + + CYRANO. + +Would you feel equal to repeating the daily lessons I could give you? + + CHRISTIAN. + +What is it you propose? + + CYRANO. + +In Roxane's eyes you shall not be disgraced. Together, if you will, we +can gain her love. Will you allow the soul so ill-restrained by my +buckskin here to breathe and sing beneath your embroidered doublet?.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +But Cyrano.... + + CYRANO. + +.... Christian, will you? + + CHRISTIAN. + +Would it give you so much pleasure? + + CYRANO (_enraptured_). + +It would.... + + (_returning to his senses, and lightly_) + +It would amuse me! + + A trial this to tempt a poet. Come! + We shall complete each other, if you will. + You'll walk, and I'll be near you in the shade! + I'll be the breath, and you shall be the form! + + CHRISTIAN. + +But that letter she expects. I cannot write it.... + + CYRANO (_taking from his doublet the letter he + wrote a while before_). + +Your letter?.... Here it is! + + CHRISTIAN. + +How is this? + + CYRANO. + +It lacks nothing but the address. You may send it. Feel no anxiety. It +is as it should be. + + CHRISTIAN. + +But how is it that you?.... + + CYRANO. + + We poets have about us, as a rule, + Fine letters to the women we adore.... + In our dreams. For we belong to those + Whose love is but a fleeting fancy blown + Into the rainbow-bubble of a name! + Take this and make a truth of what is feigned. + My rambling words of rapture flutter like + Bewildered birds; you'll cause them to alight. + The letter shows, itself--now take it!--that + My eloquence was born of artifice. + + CHRISTIAN. + +But there may be a few words to change. Thus, written at random, will it +fit Roxane? + + CYRANO. + +It will fit her like a glove! Human vanity is so credulous that Roxane +will never doubt the letter was written for her! + + CHRISTIAN. + +You are my dearest friend! + + (_He throws himself into Cyrano's arms. They remain embracing._) + + + _SCENE XI._ + + CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, THE GASCONS, THE MUSKETEER, LISE. + + A CADET (_half opening the door_). + +Complete silence.... the silence of death.... I fear to look around! + + (_after a survey_) What!.... + + SEVERAL CADETS (_entering and looking at + Cyrano and Christian locked in each + other's arms_). + +Ah!.... Oh!.... Impossible!.... + + (_Consternation._) + + THE MUSKETEER (_jeeringly_). + +Well, well!.... + + CARBON. + +Our quarrelsome demon has become as lamblike as an apostle! Struck on +one of his nostrils--he offers the other! + + THE MUSKETEER. + +So, now we may speak of his nose!.... + + (_calling Lise, triumphantly_). + +Lise, just come and see!.... + + (_sniffing with affectation_). + +Why!.... Why!.... this is surprising! It smells here of.... + + (_going up to Cyrano_). + +But you, Sir, must have noticed it? It smells of.... + + CYRANO (_slapping Musketeer's face_). + +Five-leaf clover! + + (_General rejoicing, Cyrano is himself again. Cadets turn + somersaults._) + + _CURTAIN._ + + [Illustration: _SECOND ACT._] + + [Illustration: _SECOND ACT._] + + + + + _ACT III._ + + THE KISS OF ROXANE. + + +_A small public square in the old Marais quarter of Paris. Old houses, +narrow streets. To the right Roxane's house and garden, over the wall of +which spread and hang the branches of large trees inside. Above the +door, a window and a balcony. By the door a stone bench._ + +_Ivy creeps up the wall, and a jasmine twines around the balcony. By +means of the bench and of stones projecting from the wall, it is +comparatively easy to climb up to the balcony._ + +_Over the way, an old house in the same style, brick and stone, with a +door, the knocker of which is wrapped with rags like a sore finger._ + +_As the curtain rises, the Duenna is seated on the bench. The window on +Roxane's balcony is wide open. Standing near the Duenna is Ragueneau, +wearing a sort of livery. He is concluding a story, and wiping his +eyes._ + + + _SCENE I._ + + RAGUENEAU, THE DUENNA, _later_ ROXANE, CYRANO, _and two pages_. + + RAGUENEAU. + +.... And then she left with a Musketeer! Deserted and ruined, I hung +myself, and I was already off for another world, when enter Monsieur de +Bergerac. He unhung me and offered me to his cousin for a steward. + + THE DUENNA. + +But how were you ruined so? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Lise had a weakness for the military, and I for poets. Mars ate all the +cakes that Apollo left. Oh! they made short work of it! + + THE DUENNA (_rises and calls toward the window_). + +Roxane! Are you ready? We'll be late. + + VOICE OF ROXANE (_through the window_). + +I'm putting on my cape! + + THE DUENNA (_to Ragueneau, pointing to the + door of the house over the way_). + +We are expected over there, at Clomire's. She holds her literary +assizes. There will be a reading. Subject: The Tender Passion! + + RAGUENEAU. + +The Tender Passion, indeed! + + THE DUENNA (_smirking_). + +The Tender Passion. Why not? + + (_calling toward the window_). + +Roxane, come down! Or we shall miss the discourse on The Tender Passion. + + VOICE OF ROXANE. + +I am coming! + + (_Sound of string instruments growing gradually nearer._) + + VOICE OF CYRANO (_singing in the wings_). + +La, la, la, la! + + THE DUENNA (_surprised_). + +Music for us! + + CYRANO (_followed by two pages each with an archlute_). + +I say again that it's a demi-semi-quaver, you triple fool! + + FIRST PAGE (_with irony_). + +So then, Sir, you have thorough knowledge of quavers? + + CYRANO. + +I am a musician, as are all the disciples of Gassendi. + + THE PAGE (_playing and singing_). + +La, la! + + CYRANO (_snatching from him the archlute and + continuing the music_). + +I can go on! La, la, la, la! + + ROXANE (_appearing on the balcony_). + +So, it is you? + + CYRANO (_continuing the same air_). + +Yes, I who come to celebrate the lily, And to extol the glory of the +ro....se! + + ROXANE. + +I'll be down in a moment. + + (_She leaves the balcony._) + + THE DUENNA (_to Cyrano, pointing to the two pages_). + +And who may be these two songsters? + + CYRANO. + +Oh! they are part of a bet I won. D'Assoucy and I had a discussion on a +point of grammar. No! Yes! No! Yes! Of a sudden he points to these two +scarecrows here, his constant escort, great in the art of scratching a +string with a claw, and he says: "I'll bet you a whole day of +music!"--He lost. And now, until to-morrow comes, I must enjoy both the +strains and the presence of these two harmonious witnesses of all my +acts!.... Pleasant, if you like, in the beginning, but now the pleasure +is growing less. + + (_to the musicians_). + +Hep!.... Just go and play a pavan--with my compliments--for that actor +Montfleury! + + (_Pages go up. To the Duenna_). + +I've come this evening--as on previous evenings-- + + (_to the Pages who are leaving_). + +Play long,--and out of tune! + + (_to Duenna_). + +To ask Roxane if the friend of her soul is still as faultless as before. + + ROXANE (_coming out of the house_). + +How beautiful, how clever he is! and how I love him! + + CYRANO (_smiling_). + +Indeed! And is Christian so very clever?.... + + ROXANE. + +Yes, dear friend, more so even than yourself! + + CYRANO. + +So be it, then! + + ROXANE. + +To my mind, it would be impossible for anyone to deliver with more +elegance and wit than he does these pretty trifles that are nothing, if +you will--and still are everything. At times, it is true, he seems quite +absent-minded; but, suddenly, he recovers and says the most charming +things! + + CYRANO (_incredulous_). + +You surprise me! + + ROXANE. + +You men are really astonishing! Because Christian is handsome, he _must_ +be stupid! + + CYRANO. + +I doubt if he can speak of hearts and love. + + ROXANE. + +He does not speak of, he lectures on them, Sir! + + CYRANO. + +And he writes? + + ROXANE. + +Still better. Just listen. + + (_reciting_). + +"The more you take of what's my heart, the more I've left." + + (_triumphantly_). + +What think you of that? + + CYRANO. + +So! So! + + ROXANE. + +And of this? (_reciting_). + + "Since I must suffer and, to suffer, have a heart, + If you would keep the heart that's mine, then send me yours." + + CYRANO. + +At first he had too much heart; now he has not enough. It would be +interesting to know exactly how much heart would satisfy him. + + ROXANE. + +You are exasperating! True jealousy!.... + + CYRANO (_moved_). + +What?.... + + ROXANE. + +An author's jealousy! And is not this just as lovely as possible? +Listen! + + "T'ward you my heart, I swear, has but a single cry, + And, if in written lines fond kisses could be sent, + O Madam, you would read this letter with your lips!" + + CYRANO (_with an unconscious smile of satisfaction_). + +Ha! ha! the lines are.... hum! hum!.... + + (_recovering and disdainfully_). + + .... really pretty weak! + + ROXANE. + +Indeed! And this? + + CYRANO. + +Why! do you remember all his letters? + + ROXANE. + +Every one of them! + + CYRANO. + +Undoubtedly, this is quite a compliment! + + ROXANE. + +He is a master! + + CYRANO (_with modesty_). + +Oh!.... a master!.... + + ROXANE (_with decision_). + +A master, I say! + + CYRANO. + +So be it! A master! + + THE DUENNA (_returning from the rear_). + +Monsieur de Guiche! + + (_to Cyrano, pushing him toward the house_). + +Get into the house. It is better he should not see you here--or else he +might suspect.... + + ROXANE (_to Cyrano_). + +Yes, discover my secret. He loves me; he is powerful, and he must not +know of my love. He could destroy it! + + CYRANO (_entering the house_). + +Very well, then, very well! + + (_Enter Guiche._) + + + _SCENE II._ + + ROXANE, GUICHE, THE DUENNA, _at a distance_. + + ROXANE (_to Guiche, with a curtsey_). + +I was just going out. + + GUICHE. + +And I have come to take leave, before starting for the front. + + ROXANE. + +Oh!.... + + GUICHE. + +I am ordered to the siege of Arras.... + + ROXANE. + +Oh!.... + + GUICHE. + +.... and I go to-night. + + ROXANE. + +Oh!.... + + GUICHE. + +My departure does not seem to distress you greatly.... + + ROXANE. + +Oh!.... + + GUICHE. + +.... But I seriously grieve over it. Shall I ever see you again?.... +When?.... By the way, I have been given a high command. + + ROXANE (_indifferent_). + +I congratulate you! + + GUICHE. + +The Guards regiment. + + ROXANE (_interested_). + +Oh! the Guards? + + GUICHE. + +Yes, the regiment in which is your cousin, the man of boastful words. +I'll have my revenge when I get him at the siege. + + ROXANE (_overcome_). + +What! the Guards are going there? + + GUICHE (_laughing_). + +Of course, since they are now my regiment. + + ROXANE (_sinking on the bench--aside_). + +Christian! + + GUICHE. + +What ails you? + + ROXANE (_moved_). + +This.... departure.... grieves me sorely. To know that those you.... +care for.... are going to battle! + + GUICHE (_surprised and pleased_). + +Why is it I hear words so sweet only on the day of my departure? + + ROXANE (_changing her manner and using her fan_). + +So, then, you mean to seek revenge on my cousin Cyrano? + + GUICHE (_surprised_). + +Do you take his part? + + ROXANE. + +I? Not at all. I am against him. + + GUICHE. + +Do you see him often? + + ROXANE. + +Very seldom. + + GUICHE. + +I meet him everywhere.... with one of those cadets.... this Neu.... +vil.... Neuvil.... + + ROXANE. + +A tall man? + + GUICHE. + +A blond. + + ROXANE. + +Red-haired, rather. + + GUICHE. + +Handsome!.... + + ROXANE. + +For some, perhaps, but.... + + GUICHE. + +But very stupid. + + ROXANE. + +So it struck me! (_changing her manner_). + +....Your revenge as regards Cyrano no doubt consists in holding him +under fire, which he relishes. So I hardly see great vengeance for you +in that. I can tell you, though, what would wound him to the quick!.... + + GUICHE. + +And that is?.... + + ROXANE. + +To have his regiment and his dear cadets remain, so long as there is +war, right here, in Paris, inactive! The only way to punish him is to +deprive him of danger. + + GUICHE. + +Woman! Woman! No one but a woman would think of such a scheme! + + (_getting closer to Roxane_). + +You have then some regard for me? (_She smiles._) The fact that you take +sides with me, Roxane, is, in my eyes, a proof of love. + + ROXANE. + +It is one. + + GUICHE (_showing several sealed papers_). + +I have the orders here for every company, and they shall be sent +immediately, except.... + + (_he takes one out of the batch_) this one! It is for the cadets, + and (_puts it into a pocket_) + +I hold it back! Ha! ha! Cyrano....so eager for the fray! And so you play +with people as with mice, Roxane? + + ROXANE. + +Sometimes! + + GUICHE (_quite close to her_). + +You enthrall me! Roxane, listen. To-night--yes, I know, I must depart. +But leave you when I feel that you are moved!....I cannot. Hear me! +Close by here is the convent of the Capuchin fathers. Laymen cannot +enter it; but, as the fathers serve my uncle Richelieu, they have some +regard for his nephew, and they will give me a place of concealment. +Officially, I shall have left for the front, but I shall return to you +under the cover of a mask. Allow me to delay my departure a few hours, +dear waywardness! + + ROXANE. + +But if you are discovered! Your reputation.... + + GUICHE. + +I'll risk it. + + ROXANE. + +But the siege.... Arras.... + + GUICHE. + +I care not. Grant me your permission! + + ROXANE. + +No! + + GUICHE. + +Do! + + ROXANE (_affectionately_). + +My duty says that I must forbid! I beseech you, go! + + (_aside_). + +Christian remains here! + + (_aloud_). + +I would have you be a hero--Antoine! + + GUICHE. + +Celestial word!--And so you love the one.... + + ROXANE. + +For whom I tremble? Yes! + + GUICHE (_enraptured_). + +'Tis well, I leave! + + (_Kisses her hand._) + +Are you satisfied? + + ROXANE. + +Yes, dearest friend! + + (_Exit Guiche._) + + THE DUENNA (_curtseying mockingly behind Guiche_). + +Yes, dearest friend. + + ROXANE (_to Duenna_). + +Not a word, if you please. Cyrano would never forgive me for stealing +his war from him! + + (_calling toward the house_). + +Cousin! + + + _SCENE III._ + + ROXANE, THE DUENNA, CYRANO. + + ROXANE (_pointing to door of house opposite hers_). + +We are going to Clomire's. Alcandre is to speak, so is Lysimon. + + DUENNA. + +Yes, but my little finger says that we shall be late. + + CYRANO. + +Make haste lest you miss part of their monkey talk. + + DUENNA (_looking at knocker_). + +That's right, they have gagged this noisy little wretch. It might have +interrupted the finest speeches. + + (_She knocks very gently. Door opens._) + + ROXANE (_about to pass in. To Cyrano_). + +Were Christian to come, as is likely, request him to wait for me, +please. + + CYRANO. + +I shall. + + (_As she is passing in the door, she turns, on hearing Cyrano + speak._) + +And what question do you intend, as is your wont, to propound to him +to-day? + + ROXANE. + +The question of.... + + CYRANO (_eagerly_). + +Of?.... + + ROXANE. + +But you'll remain silent! + + CYRANO. + +As a prison wall. + + ROXANE. + +No question at all!.... I shall simply say to him: Proceed--without a +rein!--Extemporise. Speak of love. Be grand! + + CYRANO (_smiling_). + +Excellent idea! + + ROXANE. + +Hush! + + CYRANO. + +Hush! + + (_Roxane enters, closing the door._) + + CYRANO (_bowing to the door_). + +Very many thanks! + + (_The door opens and Roxane passes out her head._) + + ROXANE. + +He might try to prepare!.... + + CYRANO. + +That would never do!.... + + TOGETHER. + +Hush! + + (_Door closes._) + + CYRANO (_calling_). + +Christian! + + + _SCENE IV._ + + CYRANO, CHRISTIAN. + + CYRANO. + +Now I'm informed! Prepare your memory. There is glory in store for +you.--Drop your bad humour, and let us haste to your house, where I +shall coach you. + + CHRISTIAN. + +No! + + CYRANO. + +What! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I'll wait for Roxane here. + + CYRANO. + +Have you gone mad? Come, come! + + CHRISTIAN. + +No! I said. I am weary of committing to memory my letters, my +speeches.... Weary of playing a part....weary of trembling lest I fail! +All good and well in the beginning! But now I feel that she really loves +me! Many thanks, I fear nothing now. I'll speak unprompted. + + CYRANO. + +So, indeed! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Probably you think that I cannot?.... After all, I'm not so stupid! You +shall see! Your lessons have improved me. I'll speak unaided. And--speak +or not--I'll know enough to clasp her in my arms! + + (_Perceiving Roxane coming out of Clomire's house_). + +It is she! Cyrano, for pity's sake, do not leave me! + + CYRANO (_bowing to him_). + +You'll speak unprompted, Sir. + + (_He disappears behind the garden wall._) + + + _SCENE V._ + + CHRISTIAN, ROXANE, THE DUENNA, _a moment_. + + ROXANE (_coming out of Clomire's house, in company + with several ladies and gentlemen.--Curtsies_). + +Barthénoïde!--Alcandre--Grémione!.... + + DUENNA (_in despair_). + +We missed the discourse on The Tender Passion! + + (_Enters house of Roxane._) + + ROXANE (_going up to Christian_). + +Oh! here you are!.... Twilight is coming, the air is balmy, and there is +nobody about. Let us be seated. Speak. I'm listening. + + (_She takes a seat on the bench. Christian sits near her. + Silence._) + + CHRISTIAN. + +I love you! + + ROXANE (_closing her eyes_). + +Yes, speak of love! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I love thee! + + ROXANE. + +Yes, that is the theme. Amplify! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I love.... + + ROXANE. + +Expatiate! + + CHRISTIAN. + +So deeply!.... + + ROXANE. + +Of course.... and then?.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +And then?.... I should feel so happy if you loved me! Roxane, do say +that you love me! + + ROXANE (_pouting_). + +You offer me porridge when I expected cream! Now, say _how_ you love me. + + CHRISTIAN. + +I love you....very much. + + ROXANE. + +Uncloud your sentiments a little! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Your neck! Ah! that I could press my lips to it! + + ROXANE. + +Christian, for shame! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I love you! + + ROXANE (_about to rise_). + +Again! + + CHRISTIAN (_restraining her_). + +No! I do _not_ love you.... + + ROXANE (_settling again into her seat_). + +That is better! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I adore you! + + ROXANE (_rising and from a distance_). + +Oh! the same thing! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Yes--I feel that I am getting stupid! + + ROXANE. + +Yes, and it displeases me. No more should I like to have you lose your +good looks. + + CHRISTIAN. + +But.... + + ROXANE. + +Come, call up all your eloquence, just now put to flight. + + CHRISTIAN. + +I.... + + ROXANE. + +Yes, I know, you love me. Farewell! + + (_She goes toward the door._) + + CHRISTIAN. + +Do not go! Let me tell you.... + + ROXANE (_opening her door_). + +That you adore me?.... But I know it already. No! no! you had better +leave me! + + CHRISTIAN. + +But hear me, Roxane.... + + (_She closes the door in his face._) + + CYRANO (_who has just appeared without being seen_). + +Quite a success! + + + _SCENE VI._ + + CHRISTIAN, CYRANO, THE PAGES, _a moment_. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Help! help! + + CYRANO. + +No, Sir! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I'll die if she does not this moment relent.... + + CYRANO. + +What can I do? This very moment drum into you.... + + CHRISTIAN (_clasping Cyrano's arm_). + +See! There she comes! + + (_Light in the balcony window._) + + CYRANO (_moved_). + +Her window! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Help me! Or I'll die! + + CYRANO. + +Speak lower! + + CHRISTIAN (_whispering_). + +It is life or death to me! + + CYRANO. + +The night is dark.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Well, speak! + + CYRANO. + +The harm can be undone. You do not deserve it, you wretch!....but stand +there before the balcony! I'll remain beneath it--and prompt you! + + CHRISTIAN. + +But, my friend.... + + CYRANO. + +Obey orders! + + THE PAGES (_in the rear, to Cyrano_). + +Hep! + + CYRANO (_silencing them_). + +Hush! + + FIRST PAGE (_in a whisper_). + +We have serenaded Montfleury. + + CYRANO (_in a whisper, quickly to Pages_). + +You, stand on this corner....and you, on that one. If anyone comes +along, play an air. + + SECOND PAGE. + +What sort of air would suit Gassendi? + + CYRANO. + +Lively for a woman; for a man a sad one! + + (_Pages disappear, taking two different streets._) + +(_To Christian_) Now, call her! + + CHRISTIAN (_calling_). + +Roxane. + + CYRANO (_picking up a few pebbles that he throws + against the window_). + +Wait! A few pebbles. + + ROXANE (_half opening her window_). + +Who calls me? + + CHRISTIAN. + +I. + + ROXANE. + +Who is I? + + CHRISTIAN. + +I, Christian. + + ROXANE (_scornfully_). + +Oh! you! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I must speak to you. + + CYRANO (_under the balcony, to Christian_). + +Good! Lower your voice. + + ROXANE. + +No! You speak too clumsily. Better go! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Be pitiful!.... + + ROXANE. + +No! You love me no more! + + CHRISTIAN (_prompted by Cyrano_). + +You accuse me....merciful Gods!....of loving no more....when....I love +more! + + ROXANE (_stopping as she was going to close the window_). + +Why! you are improving. + + CHRISTIAN (_still prompted_). + +Love grows stronger in the restless soul--mine--that he has +chosen....cruel child!....for a cradle! + + ROXANE (_coming out on the balcony_). + +Better still!....But, since this love is so cruel, you were foolish, +indeed, not to smother it at its birth! + + CHRISTIAN (_prompted_). + +I tried....but without success: this new-born babe, Madam, is a little +Hercules. + + ROXANE. + +Still better! + + CHRISTIAN (_prompted_). + +In fact, he....strangled without an effort....two serpents....Pride +and....Doubt.... + + ROXANE (_leaning on the balcony railing_). + +Very good indeed! But why do you speak so....deliberately? Has your +imagination the gout, that it limps so? + + CYRANO (_drawing Christian under the balcony, and + noiselessly taking Christian's place before it_). + +Hush! The task is getting too difficult!.... + + ROXANE. + +To-night you waver in your speech. Why so? + + CYRANO (_speaking in a low tone as Christian + did before him_). + +Because night has come, and, in the dark, my words must wander in search +of your ear. + + ROXANE. + +But my words meet with no such difficulty. + + CYRANO. + +Yours find a resting-place immediately. Oh! very naturally, since I +receive them into my heart. Remember that my heart is large, while your +ear is very small. Moreover, your words descend! thus have they speed. +While mine must rise, Madam: they require more time! + + ROXANE. + +But they have been rising much better for the last few moments. + + CYRANO. + +They are getting trained to climbing! + + ROXANE. + +The fact is that I am speaking to you from quite a height! + + CYRANO. + +Assuredly, and you would kill me if, from such an elevation, you allowed +a sharp word to drop upon my heart! + + ROXANE (_moved_). + +I'll come down. + + CYRANO (_quickly_). + +No! + + ROXANE (_pointing to the stone bench under the balcony_). + +Step upon the bench, then, and climb up here! + + CYRANO (_frightened and retreating_). + +No! + + ROXANE. + +You surprise me.... Why not? + + CYRANO (_more and more moved_). + +Let us rather improve.... this opportunity of.... speaking softly +together.... without seeing each other. + + ROXANE. + +What! To each other almost invisible? + + CYRANO. + + As now.--Let us enjoy the bliss there is + In seeking to distinguish one the other. + For you, I'm but the darkness of a cloak; + For me, you are the whiteness of a robe. + I'm shadow only, you are blessèd light! + +If ever you have thought me eloquent.... + + ROXANE. + +I have. + + CYRANO. + +Remember now that my words never yet came from my true heart. + + ROXANE. + +Why not? + + CYRANO. + +Because.... until now.... I have spoken to you through.... + + ROXANE. + +Through what? + + CYRANO. + +The spell that you cast upon those who bask in the light of your +eyes!.... And so, this night, to me it seems as if I were about to speak +to you for the first time! + + ROXANE. + +Ah! that is why your voice seems different. + + CYRANO (_feverish, and coming up closer to the balcony_). + +Yes, different; for, now that darkness shields me, I dare to be myself +at last, I dare.... + + (_He stops, bewildered._) + +Where was I?.... I forget.... Pardon my confusion.... All this is so +exquisite.... so new to me!.... + + ROXANE. + +So new! + + CYRANO (_quite bewildered, and trying to explain_). + +So new!.... Why! yes.... It's new to be sincere. And then.... a fear of +ridicule.... + + ROXANE. + +Ridicule? For what? + + CYRANO. + +My emotional flights! + + My heart, through diffidence, forever calls + Upon my mind to shield it from disdain: + I start to cull a star, and then I halt, + For fear of ridicule, to pick a floret. + + ROXANE. + + A floret has its charms. + + CYRANO. + + Disdain them now! + + ROXANE. + + You never spoke to me as now you speak! + + CYRANO. + + Oh! let us set aside the pygmy things, + The superannuated niceties + Of love as it is understood to-day! + Why sip by drops the waters of a spring, + When from a river we can freely quaff? + + ROXANE. + + But mind and wit? + + CYRANO. + + They serve to make you stay. + But now 'twould be an insult to the night, + To fragrance, and to fate, and nature too, + If we should hold unto affected style. + One look above, and artifice disarms! + I fear that, with this subtle alchemy, + The truth of sentiment might vapourise, + The soul exhaust itself in futile play, + And niceties be carried to a point + So pointed that it end in nothingness! + + ROXANE. + + But mind and wit? + + CYRANO. + + I hate them now. It is + A crime to force sweet love to bandy words! + There comes a time, moreover, be assured-- + Oh! how I pity those who feel it not!-- + When our breast o'erflows with noble love, + A love that pretty words must desecrate! + + ROXANE. + + Since now for both of us the time has come, + What words shall I expect from you? + + CYRANO. + + All, all, + All those I know; accept them scattered loose, + Unsought, unbound. I love you--let me breathe!-- + I love thee[20], and I rave. 'Tis joy too much! + Thy name is in my heart as in a bell, + Roxane, and, as my heart forever throbs, + The bell is e'er the sounder of thy name. + Of thee there's nought I do not hoard and love: + I mind me that, last year, the twelfth of May, + A twist was changed in what's a crown, thy hair! + Thy glowing hair to me is truly light. + When we have gazed too long upon the sun, + We see on things around a halo reign; + 'Tis thus when I have lost the light thou shedst: + My dazzled eyes are filled with golden sparks! + + ROXANE. + + Yes, this is love-- + + CYRANO. + + The passion in my heart + Is jealous, fierce, with sadness tainted, but + It's really love--love shorn of selfish thought. + Would I could give my happiness for thine-- + E'en shouldst thou ne'er suspect whose gift it was-- + If I could hear, perchance and from afar, + The music of thy bliss, my offering! + From every glance of thine fresh virtue springs, + Fresh valour, too. Oh! say I'm understood, + And that thou feelst my soul ascend to thee! + All is to-night too beautiful and sweet! + And still it's true! I speak, at last, to thee. + Yes, I to thee! 'Tis bliss too great! My hopes, + My wildest hopes ne'er leaped to such a height; + My dream's no dream, and I can die content. + Because of me she quivers with the trees! + For, leaf divine, you tremble with the leaves! + Thou tremblest, for, against thy will or not, + I feel, oh, bliss! the tremour of thy hand + Descending now along these flowery vines. + + (_He imprints a passionate kiss upon one of the branches._) + + ROXANE. + + I tremble, yes; I weep, I love, I'm thine! + I am enthralled! + + CYRANO. + + May Death then come along, + Since rapture's born of me, of me alone! + What more can I expect of life?-- + + CHRISTIAN (_under the balcony_). + + A kiss! + + ROXANE (_falling back_). + +What? + + CYRANO. + + Oh! + + ROXANE. + + You claim?-- + + CYRANO. + + Yes--I-- + + (_aside to Christian_). + + You go too far. + + CHRISTIAN (_aside to Cyrano_). + +Now she is moved, it's time for me to act. + + CYRANO (_to Roxane_). + +Yes, I.... I asked.... it is true.... but now I realise how more than +bold I was. + + ROXANE (_somewhat disappointed_). + +And you do not insist? + + CYRANO. + +Insist? Of course I do.... but with reserve!.... Yes, I know your +modesty's offended. So, I withdraw the kiss.... refuse it to me! + + CHRISTIAN (_with a tug at Cyrano's cloak_). + +Why so? + + CYRANO. + +Be silent, Christian! + + ROXANE (_leaning over the balcony_). + +What are you muttering? + + CYRANO. + +I was reproving myself for going too far. I was saying: be silent +Christian!.... + + (_sound of archlute._) + + One moment please!.... Some one comes. + + (_Roxane closes her window. Cyrano listens to the archlutes; one of + them plays a lively air, and the other a sad one._) + +Lively?.... Sad?.... A woman or a man? No, a monk! + + (_Enter monk holding a lighted lantern. He goes from house to + house, looking at the doors._) + + [20] Note.--In this tirade, and in the following one, _you_, _thou_ + and _she_ are intentionally interwoven. When Cyrano is carried by + his emotion, he passes from _you_ to _thou_, which latter is, in + French, familiar and endearing much more than in English. Then, + reclaimed by reason and fearing that he has overstepped the + bounds, he returns to the (in French) more formal _you_, or + resorts to a discreet _she_, only to forget himself again and to + resume the caressing _thou_. + + + _SCENE VII._ + + CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, _a_ CAPUCHIN MONK. + + CYRANO (_to the Monk_). + +Are you a new Diogenes? + + MONK. + +I'm looking for the house of Madam Magdeleine Robin. + + CYRANO (_pointing to one of the streets_). + +That way--straight ahead--as far as you can go.... + + MONK. + +Thank you, Sir!--I'll tell my beads for you. + + (_Exit Monk._) + + CYRANO. + +Peace be with you! I bid you Godspeed! + + (_Comes down toward Christian._) + + + _SCENE VIII._ + + CYRANO, CHRISTIAN. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Obtain for me that kiss! + + CYRANO. + +No, Sir! + + CHRISTIAN. + +But, sooner or later, you know.... + + CYRANO. + + True, + The time will come, that time of bliss intense, + When each will fall into the other's arms, + And blond mustache to rosy lips will go! + + (_aside_) + +'Twas better that at least I cause the bliss. + + (_Window above opens. Christian conceals himself beneath the + balcony._) + + + _SCENE IX._ + + CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, ROXANE. + + ROXANE (_coming out on the balcony_). + +Is it you?--Yes.... What were we speaking of?.... oh! of a.... well, +of.... + + CYRANO. + + A kiss! The word is soft. Why hesitate? + The name, be sure, will not maltreat your lips, + However burning be the thing itself.-- + Just now, you left the trifling mood, to glide, + To steal from smile to sigh, and sigh to tears. + Glide on!.... From tear to kiss there's but a thrill! + + ROXANE. + + Be silent! + + CYRANO. + + After all, what is a kiss? + An oath that's given closer than before; + A promise more precise; the sealing of + Confessions that till then were barely breathed; + A ruby O to spell the verb: I love![21] + A secret that's confided to a mouth + And not to ears; a precious moment of + Infinity that buzzes like a bee; + Communion with the fragrance flowers have; + A gentle way for heart to breathe a heart, + For soul from fervid lips to drink a soul! + + ROXANE. + + Be still! + + CYRANO. + + A kiss is oft a thing so grand + That once a queen of France permitted one + Unto a happy lord. I said: a queen! + + ROXANE. + + And then? + + CYRANO (_excited_). + + Like Buckingham, I've suffered long; + Like him I love a queen, the one that's you! + Like him, I'm sad and faithful.... + + ROXANE. + + And like him + You've beauty. + + CYRANO (_aside, abashed_). + + Yes.... I've beauty.... I forgot! + + ROXANE. + + Well, then, come up, to cull the flower.... + + CYRANO (_pushing Christian toward the balcony_). + + Go! + + ROXANE. + + Whose fragrance.... + + CYRANO (_to Christian_). + + Go! + + ROXANE. + + The buzzing of the bee.... + + CYRANO (_to Christian_). + + Go up! + + CHRISTIAN (_hesitating_). + + But now, it really seems a crime! + + ROXANE. + + A moment of infinity.... + + CYRANO (_pushing Christian_). + + You fool, + Go up! + + (_Christian, by aid of bench, vines and posts, reaches the balcony + and steps over the railing._) + + CHRISTIAN. + + Roxane!.... + + (_He clasps her to his breast and kisses her on the lips._) + + CYRANO (_aside_). + + What pinches so my heart?.... + That kiss!.... a feast where I'm the Lazarus!.... + Sweet feast, from thee there falls to me a crumb, + Since on the lips Roxane mistakes, alas! + She drinks the words that I just now pronounced! + + (_Sound of instruments._) + +An air that's sad, a lively air!--The Monk! + + (_Affecting to run as if coming from a distance. In clear tone:_) + +Hello! + + ROXANE. + +What is it? + + CYRANO. + +It is I, Cyrano. I was passing.... Is Christian still here? + + CHRISTIAN (_as if astonished_). + +Why! it's Cyrano! + + ROXANE. + +How do you do, cousin? + + CYRANO. + +Cousin, how do you do? + + ROXANE. + +I'll come down. + + (_She disappears into the house. By the rear, enter the Monk._) + + CHRISTIAN (_perceiving him_). + +What! he again! + + (_He follows Roxane._) + + [21] Note.--"Un point rose qu'on met sur l'i du verbe aimer." + + "A ruby O"...., as above, may prove, it is thought, a good + example of _equivalence_, the _i_, impossible here in English, + finding in O a good substitute, calling up, if not exactly the + very same image, at least a kindred one fully as good. + + + _SCENE X._ + + CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, ROXANE, THE MONK, RAGUENEAU. + + THE MONK. + +She must live here--I insist--Magdeleine Robin! + + CYRANO. + +Why! You said _Ro-lin_. + + MONK. + +No! _Bin_. B, I, N, _bin_! + + ROXANE (_appears in the doorway, followed by + Ragueneau, carrying a lighted lantern, + and by Christian_). + +What is it? + + MONK. + +A letter. + + CHRISTIAN. + +What's this? + + MONK (_to Roxane_). + +Oh! it can but be a saintly thing! A worthy gentleman.... + + ROXANE (_to Christian_). + +Evidently Guiche! + + CHRISTIAN. + +He would dare?.... + + ROXANE. + +Oh! he cannot long annoy me! I love you, and.... + + (_She opens the letter, and, by the aid of Ragueneau's lantern, she + reads to herself, in a low voice:_) + +"Mademoiselle, + +"The drums are beating and my regiment is about to start. All think that +I have already gone; but I have remained, thus disobeying you. I am here +in the convent. I'll come to you forthwith, but I give you notice of my +visit, through an innocent monk who knows not what message he is +carrying. Your lips smiled to me just now; I must see them again. +Dismiss whoever is near you, and condescend to hear the bold suitor whom +you have, I trust, already forgiven, and who remains your most.... et +cetera...." + + (_to the Monk_). + +Father, listen! Here is what the letter says: + + (_All come up and listen, as she reads aloud:_) + +"Mademoiselle, + +"You must submit to the will of the Cardinal, however hard it may appear +to you. And that is why I send this message by a saintly, most +intelligent and discreet capuchin. We desire you to receive his +blessing....(_turning the page_) his nuptial blessing immediately. +Christian must be married to you secretly. I send him to you, though I +know you like him not. Be resigned, remembering that Heaven will bless +your zeal. Be assured, Mademoiselle, of my respect, for I have been and +shall ever be your most humble and very.... et cetera." + + MONK (_delighted_). + +Worthy gentleman! I knew he could suggest but a saintly thing! + + ROXANE (_aside to Christian_). + +Do you not think I read letters well? + + CHRISTIAN. + +It depends.... + + ROXANE (_aloud, in despair_). + +Ah!.... this is terrible! + + MONK (_throwing the light of the lantern upon Cyrano_). + +Are you the groom? + + CHRISTIAN. + +I am the one! + + MONK (_turning the light upon Christian and as + if he was in doubt on seeing Christian's + handsome looks_). + +But, my son.... + + ROXANE (_eagerly_). + +There is a Post Scriptum: "Donate to the convent one hundred and twenty +pistoles." + + MONK. + +Worthy, worthy gentleman! (_To Roxane_) Be resigned! + + ROXANE (_with a martyr's look_). + +I am! + + (_While Ragueneau shows the Monk into the house, on Christian's + invitation, Roxane, in low tone, says to Cyrano_). + +Guiche is coming. Detain him here until.... + + CYRANO. + +I understand. + + (_to the Monk_). To give them your blessing will take you.... how +long? + + MONK. + +A quarter of an hour. + + CYRANO (_pushing them all into the house_). + +Go in, go in! Only one must remain here: I! + + ROXANE (_to Christian_). + +Come! + + (_They all go into the house._) + + CYRANO. + +How can I detain Guiche fifteen minutes? Oh! I have a plan! + + (_He climbs upon the balcony. The archlutes play a sort of dirge._) + +This time it must be a man, most certainly. It is! + + (_He is on the balcony, with his hat well down over his eyes. Takes + off his sword, wraps himself in his cloak, leans over the railing + and observes._) + +No! Really not too high! + + (_Straddles the railing, seizes a long branch of one of the trees + and makes ready to drop._) + +I'll only slightly disturb the atmosphere! + + + _SCENE XI._ + + CYRANO, GUICHE. + + GUICHE (_masked, and hesitating in the dark_). + +What can this infernal monk be doing? + + CYRANO. + +By the way--my voice?--He might recognise it! + + (_He loosens a hand and makes the motion of turning a key._) + +Cric! Crac! + + (_Solemnly_) Now, Cyrano, resume the accent of Bergerac! + + GUICHE (_looking at the house_). + +Here's the house! + + (_He is about to enter, but Cyrano springs from the balcony while + holding on to the branch; the latter bends and lets him down + between Guiche and the door. He affects to fall heavily, as if from + a great height, remaining crushed and dazed. Guiche jumps back._) + +What is this? + + (_When Guiche recovers from his astonishment the branch has sprung + up again, so that Cyrano appears to have fallen from the sky._) + +From where did this man drop? + + CYRANO (_speaking with a Gascon's accent_). + +From the moon! + + GUICHE. + +The moon!.... + + CYRANO (_as if dazed_). + +What time is it? What country is this? What month? What day? + + GUICHE. + +But, my dear Sir.... + + CYRANO. + +I feel quite dizzy.--Like a bombshell, I have just dropped from the +moon! + + GUICHE (_out of patience_). + +Look here, Sir!.... + + CYRANO (_rising, and in thundering tone_). + +I say that I dropped! + + GUICHE (_falling back_). + +So be it, then! You dropped!.... (_aside_) He is no doubt insane! + + CYRANO (_walking toward him_). + +And my drop is not metaphorical!.... One hundred years, or one minute +ago--I cannot tell how long I was on the way--I was up in that +saffron-coloured ball! + + GUICHE (_shrugging his shoulders_). + +Quite so! But allow me to pass! + + CYRANO (_stopping him_). + +Be frank now! Where am I? Where have I fallen like a meteorite? + + GUICHE. + +Zounds, Sir!.... + + CYRANO. + +During my fall, I could make no selection as to my point of arrival. Is +it upon a moon or an earth that my dead weight has just landed? + + GUICHE. + +But I repeat to you, Sir!.... + + CYRANO (_with a cry of horror that causes Guiche + to fall back_). + +Good Heavens!.... In this country are people's faces black? Am I in +Algiers, and are you a native? + + GUICHE (_touching his mask_). + +No doubt, this mask.... + + CYRANO (_seemingly less frightened_). + +Oh! then, it's Venice.... or Genoa! + + GUICHE (_trying to pass_). + +A lady is waiting for me!... + + CYRANO (_completely reassured_). + +Then I must be in Paris! + + GUICHE (_reluctantly smiling_). + +The rascal is amusing! + + CYRANO. + +You are laughing. + + GUICHE. + +Yes,--but I must pass. + + CYRANO (_apparently overjoyed_). + +So I have dropped in Paris!.... + + (_Quite at his ease, laughing, dusting himself, and bowing._) + +I have just arrived--pardon me--by the last cyclone, and I must brush +off the ether that is still on me. I've travelled! My eyes are still +full of astral dust, and my spurs have caught planet hairs. + + (_picking something off his sleeve_). + +Here, on my doublet, is one from a comet!.... + + (_He blows, as if to cast off the hair._) + + GUICHE (_enraged_). + +Now, look here, Sir!.... + + (_As Guiche is going to pass, Cyrano stretches out his leg as if to + show something that is on it._) + + CYRANO. + +In the calf of this leg, Sir, I have a tooth of the Great Bear,--and, as +nearing the Trident, I managed to avoid its three lances, I fell in a +lump upon the Balance--where my weight up there is still registered! + + (_preventing Guiche from passing and holding him by one of his + buttons._) + +If you were to press my nose, Sir, you would cause a flow of milk!.... + + GUICHE. + +Milk, indeed! + + CYRANO. + +Yes, Sir.... from the Milky Way! + + GUICHE. + +Oh! by Satan!.... + + CYRANO. + +No! I dropped from heaven! (_crossing his arms_). Would you believe it? +I noticed it as I was going by there: Sirius, at night actually wears a +turban! (_confidentially_) The other Bear, the little one, is still too +small to bite! (_laughing_) As I was passing through the Lyre, I broke +one of its strings! (_proudly_) But I intend to write a book on the +subject; and the golden stars that I gathered into my scorched cloak, +regardless of peril, shall be used by my printer for asterisks! + + GUICHE. + +Once more, I must insist.... + + CYRANO. + +Oh! Sir, I know what you desire! + + GUICHE. + +You do?.... + + CYRANO. + +Yes. You desire to hear from me how the moon is made, and if any one +inhabits the rotundity of this cucurbit![22] + + GUICHE (_very loud_). + +No! No! I desire.... + + CYRANO. + +To learn how I got up there? Easily. Through an invention of mine. + + GUICHE (_discouraged_). + +A madman, certainly! + + CYRANO (_disdainfully_). + +I copied not the stupid eagle of Regiomontanus, or the timid pigeon of +Archytas!.... + + GUICHE. + +A madman--but a learned one. + + CYRANO. + +No, Sir. I imitated nothing ever done. + + (_Guiche, having managed to pass, is nearing Roxane's door, but + Cyrano follows, ready to seize him._) + +I invented six different ways of assaulting the virgin blue! + + GUICHE (_turning_). + +Six? + + CYRANO (_with increased fluency_). + +I could, with body as bare as a taper, have comparisoned it with crystal +phials o'erflowing with tears from the morning skies, and my person, +then, if exposed in the sun, would have been aspirated by the luminary +along with the dew! + + GUICHE (_astonished, goes toward Cyrano_). + +True! That is one way! + + CYRANO (_backing, so as to draw him further away_). + +Again, I could have created a powerful gust of wind, to lift me, if I +had rarefied the air in a cedar box, by means of heated mirrors forming +an icosahedron! + + GUICHE (_following Cyrano_). + +Two ways! + + CYRANO (_still backing_). + +Or else, being both a machinist and an artificer, have straddled a +steel-legged grasshopper, and caused myself, through successive +explosions of saltpetre, to be projected into the azure fields where the +stars are wont to graze! + + GUICHE (_still following him, and counting on + his fingers_). + +That is three! + + CYRANO. + +Since smoke persists in rising, I might have blown into a globe enough +of it to carry me up! + + GUICHE (_more and more astonished_). + +Four! + + CYRANO. + +Since Phoebe, when her bow is the thinnest, loves to draw, O beeves! +your marrow,.... anoint myself with the same! + + GUICHE (_stupefied_). + +Five! + + CYRANO (_who has managed, while talking, to + press Guiche over to the other side of + the square, near a bench_). + +Last: I could have placed myself upon an iron plate, taken a magnet and +thrown it up into the air! This is a capital way. As soon as the magnet +starts, the iron rushes in pursuit of it. The magnet is thrown up again; +the iron plate follows--and, Cadedis! there is nothing to prevent the +ascension from lasting indefinitely. + + GUICHE. + +Six!--All excellent systems. And, tell me, Sir, which one of the six did +you adopt? + + CYRANO. + +A seventh one! + + GUICHE. + +Astonishing! And what was it, please? + + CYRANO. + +You would never dream of it!.... + + GUICHE (_aside_). + +The fellow is really interesting! + + CYRANO (_very mysterious and imitating the + sound of waves on a beach_). + +Houüh! Houüh! + + GUICHE. + +What's that? + + CYRANO. + +You cannot imagine? + + GUICHE. + +No! + + CYRANO. + +The tide!.... As it was running out, in obedience to the attraction of +the moon, I lay on the sands--head foremost, so that my hair--hair, you +know, does not dry fast--so that my hair was kept bathed in the receding +waves. And, thus I was, by the moon's attraction, drawn up, up, erect, +like an angel. And up I went, gently, without an effort, until suddenly, +I felt a shock!.... Then!.... + + GUICHE (_interested, takes a seat on the bench_). + +Then?.... + + CYRANO. + +Then.... (_resuming his natural tone_). The fifteen minutes have +elapsed, Sir, and now I grant you your freedom. The marriage is +accomplished! + + GUICHE (_jumping up_). + +Am I intoxicated?.... That voice! + + (_The door of Roxane's house opens; lackeys come out with lighted + candelabra. Cyrano takes off his hat that he had kept well down + over his face._) + +And that nose!.... Cyrano! + + CYRANO (_bowing_). + +In person.... Cyrano! They have just exchanged their marriage rings. + + GUICHE. + +They!.... Who? + + (_He turns. Tableau. Behind the lackeys, Roxane and Christian + holding each other by the hand. The Monk, smiling, follows them. + Ragueneau is behind, also holding a light. And last is the Duenna, + bewildered, half dressed, as if she had been hurried out of bed._) + +Merciful heavens! + + [22] Note.--_Cucurbit_ ("cucurbite") for moon is, in French, as odd as + it appears in English. The oddity of the expression, that + assimulates Luna to the rotund melon, pumpkin, etc., of the genus + of plants known as _cucurbita_, is in keeping with Cyrano's + intentional extravagance of speech. + + + _SCENE XII._ + +_The same._ ROXANE, CHRISTIAN, THE MONK, RAGUENEAU, LACKEYS, THE DUENNA. + + GUICHE (_to Roxane_). + +You, Roxane! + + (_Astounded on recognising Christian_) and he? + + (_Bowing admiringly to Roxane._) + +You are admirably shrewd! + + (_To Cyrano_) My compliments to you, Sir, as an inventor. Your +narrative would have stopped a saint at the gate of heaven! Do not +forget to write that book! + + CYRANO (_bowing_). + +I promise, Sir, to follow your advice. + + THE MONK (_with an air of satisfaction calling + Guiche's attention to the two lovers_). + +A beautiful couple, my son, and good work of yours! + + GUICHE (_very coldly_). + +Yes. + + (_to Roxane_) Be good enough to bid farewell, Madam, to your +husband. + + ROXANE. + +How so? + + GUICHE (_to Christian_). + +Your regiment is about to march. Join it immediately! + + ROXANE. + +Is it going to the war? + + GUICHE. + +Of course it is. + + ROXANE. + +But you said, Sir, that the Cadets were not going! + + GUICHE. + +They shall go! + + (_Drawing from his pocket the paper he had put into it._) + +Here is the order. + + (_to Christian_) Bear it yourself, Baron. + + ROXANE (_throwing herself into the arms of Christian_). + +Oh! dear Christian! + + GUICHE (_chuckling, to Cyrano_). + +A still very distant honeymoon! + + CYRANO (_aside_). + +A fact not so annoying to me as he thinks! + + CHRISTIAN (_to Roxane_). + +Another kiss! Your lips again! + + CYRANO. + +Come, that is enough! enough! + + CHRISTIAN (_still kissing Roxane_). + +It is very hard to leave her.... You do not know.... + + CYRANO (_endeavouring to draw him away_). + +Oh! yes, I do! + + (_Drums beating a march, in the distance._) + + GUICHE (_who has gone up to the rear_). + +The troops are leaving! + + ROXANE (_to Cyrano, who is drawing away Christian + while she is trying to hold him back_). + +Oh!.... I entrust him to you! Promise me that nothing shall endanger his +life! + + CYRANO. + +I shall do my best.... but I can hardly promise.... + + ROXANE (_still holding on to Christian_). + +Promise me that he shall be very prudent! + + CYRANO. + +I'll try, but as to promising.... + + ROXANE (_still holding on_). + +That during this terrible siege he shall never be cold! + + CYRANO. + +If it is at all possible, but.... + + ROXANE (_still holding on_). + +That he shall remain true to me! + + CYRANO. + +Yes! of course! But I cannot.... + + ROXANE (_still holding on_). + +That he shall write to me often! + + CYRANO (_halting_). + +Oh! that--I promise you! + + _CURTAIN._ + + [Illustration: _THIRD ACT._] + + + + + _ACT IV._ + + THE CADETS OF GASCONY. + + +_The post occupied by the Company of Carbon of Haughty-Hall at the siege +of Arras. In the rear, an embankment running across the stage. Beyond, a +plain, extending as far as the horizon, covered with siege works. In the +distance, the walls of the City of Arras, with the outline of its roofs +against the sky. Tents; arms strewn around; drums, etc.--Day is about to +dawn; gold in the east. Sentinels here and there. Camp fires.--Rolled up +in their cloaks the Cadets of Gascony are sleeping. Carbon of +Haughty-Hall and Le Bret are watching. They are very pale and thin. +Christian is asleep, in front, his face lighted by a fire. Silence._ + + + _SCENE I._ + + CHRISTIAN, CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL, LE BRET, THE CADETS, + _later_ CYRANO. + + LE BRET. + +It's awful! + + CARBON. + +Yes, nothing left to eat. + + LE BRET. + +Mordious! + + CARBON (_motioning to him to speak lower_). + +Deaden your oaths! or you'll wake the men. + + (_to the Cadets_). + + Sleep on! + + (_to Le Bret_). + +He who sleeps eats! + + LE BRET. + +Yes, but waking starves! + + (_A few musket reports are heard in the distance._) + + CARBON. + +Confound the muskets!.... They'll wake up my children. + + (_to several of the Cadets who lift up their heads_). + +Sleep! + + (_More musketry, nearer_). + + A CADET (_tossing_). + +The Devil! again? + + CARBON. + +It's nothing! Only Cyrano coming back! + + (_The lifted heads lie down again._) + + A SENTINEL (_outside_). + +Who goes there? + + CYRANO (_outside_). + +Bergerac! + + A SENTINEL (_on the embankment_). + +Ventrebieu! who goes there? + + CYRANO. + +Bergerac, you idiot! + + (_He comes down and is met by Le Bret._) + + LE BRET. + +What, you! wounded? + + CYRANO (_raising his hand_). + +Hush! You know that they miss me regularly every morning. + + LE BRET. + +What! risk your life thus, every day, just to carry a letter without the +camp! That is going too far. + + CYRANO (_stopping in front of Christian_). + +I promised that he would write often! + + (_looking at him_). + + He sleeps. How pale! + If sweet Roxane knew that he is starving! But he has not + lost his good looks. + + LE BRET. + +Go get some sleep! + + CYRANO. + +Don't growl, Le Bret!.... Remember this: To pass through the Spanish +lines, I long ago selected a place where they are invariably drunk. + + LE BRET. + +Why don't you once bring back some provisions? + + CYRANO. + +A load would not leave me light enough to pass through. But there is +going to be a change. We, the French, shall soon eat.... or die,--if my +eyes did not deceive me.... + + LE BRET. + +How soon? + + CYRANO. + +You'll see!.... I'm not sure enough to speak. + + CARBON. + +Isn't it shameful that the besiegers should be the ones to starve! + + LE BRET. + +An extraordinary siege this! We are besieging Arras, and the Spanish are +besieging us. + + CYRANO. + +Somebody should come now to besiege the Spanish. + + LE BRET. + +Do not joke so.--When I think that a life, precious as yours is, can be +risked daily just to carry.... + + (_Cyrano walks toward one of the tents._) + + Where are you going? + + CYRANO. + +I am going to write another letter. + + (_Enters tent._) + + + _SCENE II._ + + _The same, less_ CYRANO. + +_Day is dawning. Rosy tints in the sky, and golden ones on the distant +city. A gun is heard, then drums beat in the distance, to the left. +Other drums are heard, successively, nearer, and nearer, until they +sound on the stage, the noise then receding gradually, toward the right. +Awakening of the Camp. Officers' commands in the distance._ + + CARBON (_sighing_). + +Reveille!.... Alas! + + (_the Cadets begin rising._) + +Their dream of dinner is finished.... I know what their cry will be now. + + A CADET (_rising_). + +I'm hungry! + + ANOTHER CADET. + +I'm half dead! + + OTHER CADETS. + +We are dead! quite! + + CARBON. + +Get up! + + SEVERAL CADETS. + +Can't! + + FIRST CADET (_using his breastplate as a looking-glass_). + +My tongue is yellow. Indigestion! + + ANOTHER CADET. + +As to me, if my gastric organ gets not wherewith to produce a pint of +chyle, I'll retire into my tent--like Achilles. + + SEVERAL CADETS. + +Bread! Something to eat! Now! + + CARBON (_going to the tent of Cyrano and speaking + low to him_). + +Cyrano, help! Come with your ready wit, and put some life into them. +Give them new courage. + + A CADET (_to another who is chewing something_). + +What are you nibbling at? + + THE OTHER CADET. + +Cannon wad fried in axle grease! There is but little game around Arras. + + ANOTHER CADET (_entering_). + +I've been out shooting. + + STILL ANOTHER CADET (_likewise entering_). + +And I've been fishing in the Scarpe. + + ALL THE CADETS (_rushing up to them_). + +What have you killed? What have you caught?--A pheasant?--A +carp?--Quick, quick, show them! + + THE FISHERMAN. + +A gudgeon! + + THE HUNTSMAN. + +A sparrow! + + ALL THE CADETS (_exasperated_). + +Enough, enough! too much!--let us mutiny! + + CARBON. + +Help, Cyrano. + + (_Daylight has come._) + + + _SCENE III._ + + _The same_, CYRANO. + + CYRANO (_leaving his tent, perfectly tranquil, a + pen over his ear, book in hand_). + +Hey!.... + + (_Silence. To the first Cadet_). + + What makes you drag your feet along so? + + THE CADET. + +Something in my heels that should not be there!.... + + CYRANO. + +What's that? + + THE CADET. + +My stomach! + + CYRANO. + +Mine's the same. What of it? + + THE CADET. + +Isn't it inconvenient? + + CYRANO. + +No, it heightens me. + + SECOND CADET. + +My teeth are very long. + + CYRANO. + +Well, you can bite off a larger piece. + + ANOTHER CADET. + +My skin sounds empty. + + CYRANO. + +We'll use it as a drum, for the charge. + + ANOTHER CADET. + +There is a humming in my ears. + + CYRANO. + +Not that; an empty stomach has no ears. Impossible! + + OTHER CADET. + +Oh! for something to eat,--with good oil! + + CYRANO (_taking off the helmet of the Cadet, in + whose hand he places it_). + +Eat your salad. + + ANOTHER CADET. + +What could we find to devour? + + CYRANO (_throwing to him the book he holds in his hand_). + +The Iliad! + + OTHER CADET. + +Meanwhile, the Minister in Paris has his four meals a day! + + CYRANO. + +He ought certainly to send you at least a partridge. + + SAME CADET. + +Why not? And some wine with it too! + + CYRANO. + +Richelieu, some Burgundy, if you please! + + SAME CADET. + +By one of his capuchins! + + CYRANO. + +The Grey Eminence is so intoxicating! + + OTHER CADET. + +I'm as hungry as a bear! + + CYRANO. + +Well, bear it![23] + + FIRST CADET (_shrugging his shoulders_). + +Forever words, a point! + + CYRANO. + + A point and words! + 'Tis true; and I should like to die--at eve, + The sky aglow--as the defender of + A noble cause, a soldier and a poet too, + With, on my lips, the thrill of daring words, + And in my heart a sword's ennobling point! + + ALL. + + We're hungry! + + CYRANO (_crossing his arms_). + + So--you think of naught but food! + Come up here, then, Bertrandou, with your fife. + Seek shepherds' notes, and let these gluttons feast + Upon some old and ne'er forgotten tune + Each sound of which is like a sister's voice; + An air that slowly winds its way aloft, + As does the smoke from lowly cottage roofs, + A lay of youth, of waiting hearts and home! + + (_Bertrandou prepares his fife._) + + Let fife a while forget the battle note, + Remembering that it was born a reed. + + (_Bertrandou begins playing some Gascony airs._) + + Ye Gascons, list! 'Tis war no more, but peace. + 'Tis hill and dale, 'tis wood and meadow-land, + With red-capped lads beside their gentle herds; + 'Tis smiling riverbank and sunny sea. + O Gascons, hark! You are in Gascony! + + (_All have bowed their heads and are dreaming: many brush away a + tear._) + + CARBON (_to Cyrano, aside_). + +But, instead of giving them courage, you make them weep! + + CYRANO. + +I've made them homesick!.... A noble sort of suffering .... nobler than +hunger. It is a comfort to see their pain change organs, and pass from +their stomachs to their hearts! + + CARBON. + +But you will weaken them! + + CYRANO (_motioning to a drummer to come up_). + +Never mind! The heroes' blood that is in them will soon arouse them! + + (_He motions to the drummer, who begins beating his drum._) + + ALL THE CADETS (_rushing to their arms_). + +Hey!.... What?.... What is it?.... + + CYRANO (_smiling, to Carbon_). + +You see that, at the sound of the drum, dreams, longings, thoughts of +home, of love,....all fly away. What comes by the fife goes by the +drum.[24] + + A CADET (_from the rear_). + +Ha! ha! here is Monsieur de Guiche! + + ALL THE CADETS (_murmuring_). + +Hou.... + + CYRANO (_smiling_). + +Quite complimentary! + + A CADET. + +He is a bore, with his lace collar over his armour. He comes here to +exhibit himself! + + OTHER CADET. + +As if lace were in keeping with iron! + + OTHER CADET. + +Good if one has a boil on his neck! + + OTHER CADET. + +Too much of the courtier! + + OTHER CADET. + +The nephew of his uncle, the Cardinal. + + CARBON. + +And still he's a Gascon! + + FIRST CADET. + +Not a true one!....Beware! Because Gascons, you know, must be madcaps. +There is nothing more dangerous than a reasonable Gascon. + + LE BRET. + +How pale he is! + + A CADET. + +He is hungry.... Just as much as we poor devils. But his breastplate +gives a lustre to his cramps! + + CYRANO (_quickly_). + +We should not appear to suffer more than he does! Here! all of you, take +up your cards, your pipes and your dice.... + + (_They all rapidly begin playing, on benches, drums, or on their + cloaks spread out on the ground, meanwhile lighting long pipes._) + + .... and I ... will read Descartes. + + (_He walks up and down, reading a small book that he has taken out + of his pocket.--Tableau.--Guiche enters; everybody seems busy and + satisfied. He is very pale; goes up to Carbon._) + + [23] Note.--"Tu croques le marmot" (literally "you are eating the + baby") is an allusion to ogres' proverbial taste for infants, + coupled with the somewhat slangy meaning: "you are waiting long + and impatiently." This in English would be meaningless, and was + perforce replaced by what seems to be a fair equivalent. + + [24] Note.--A French proverb. + + + _SCENE IV._ + + _The same_, GUICHE. + + GUICHE (_to Carbon_). + +Ha! Good morning! + + (_Aside, after looking at Carbon, with satisfaction_). His face is + green! + + CARBON (_aside_). + +There is nothing left of him but his eyes. + + GUICHE (_looking at the Cadets_). + +So, here are these soreheads!.... Yes, gentlemen, I understand that I am +jeered at plentifully here; that cadets, nobility and gentry, barons +all, are not over-burdened with respect for their Colonel; that they +charge me with intrigue and court-flattery, that my lace collar over my +breastplate is an eye-sore to them,--and that it is distressing to them +to find that one can be a Gascon and still not out at the elbow! + + (_Silence. The Cadets continue to play and smoke._) + +Shall I have you punished by your Captain? No. + + CARBON. + +Well, I am free and I punish only.... + + GUICHE. + +Ah!.... + + CARBON. + +I paid for my company, and it belongs to me. I obey only to war +commands. + + GUICHE. + +Ah!.... Well, that is sufficient. + + (_speaking to the Cadets_). + + I can afford to scorn your bluster. + Everybody knows how I behave under fire. Even yesterday, there were + enough witnesses to the spirit with which I routed Count de Bucquoi; + leading my people against his men like an avalanche, I charged him + three successive times! + + CYRANO (_without lifting his eyes from his book_). + +How about your white scarf? + + GUICHE (_surprised and satisfied_). + +You know of this trifle?.... True, it happened, while I was circling to +gather my people for the third charge, that a party of runaways forced +me too close to the enemy; I was in danger of being taken or shot, when, +happily, I bethought me to untie and to drop the scarf that told my +rank. In this way, and without attracting notice, I managed to get away +from the Spaniards, and to turn back upon them with all my men, beating +them terribly!--Now, what do you say to this? + + (_The Cadets affect not to listen, but they have stopped playing, + and they hold back the smoke of their pipes. A wait._) + + CYRANO. + +I say that Henry IV, even surrounded by a host of foes, never would have +consented to diminish himself by casting off his plume of snowy white. + + (_Silent joy. Playing and smoking are resumed._) + + GUICHE. + +The device was successful, however! + + (_Playing and smoking again suspended._) + + CYRANO. + +Possibly! But who would abdicate the honour of being a target? + + (_Playing and smoking resumed. Growing satisfaction._) + +Had I been present when the scarf slipped off,--see how ideas of bravery +can vary, Sir,--I should have picked it up and put it on. + + GUICHE. + +Yes, Gascon boasting again! + + CYRANO. + +Boasting?.... Lend it to me. I offer to hang it on my shoulder and, this +very night, to scale with it the enemy's fortifications. + + GUICHE. + +A Gascon's offer! You know full well that the scarf remained on the +enemy's ground, near the river Scarpe, a place so well covered by +Spanish guns that nobody can venture there to get it! + + CYRANO (_taking a white scarf from his pocket + and handing it to Guiche_). + +Here it is! + + (_Silence. The Cadets restrain their laughter and affect to be very + busy playing. Guiche turns and looks at them; they assume an air of + great gravity; one of them, in an absent-minded way, half whistles + one of the airs the fife played a while before._) + + GUICHE (_taking the scarf_). + +Thank you! I can use this white fabric to make a signal,--that I +hesitated to give. + + (_He goes to the embankment and waves the scarf several times._) + + ALL. + +What is this? + + THE SENTINEL (_on the embankment_). + +A man, over there, who is running away!.... + + GUICHE (_coming down from the embankment_). + +One who plays the part of a Spanish spy. He is very useful to us; takes +over to the enemy information that I give him, so that we can influence +their decision. + + CYRANO. + +He is a blackguard! + + GUICHE (_slowly tying on his scarf_). + +Yes, but a great convenience. What were we saying?.... Ah!.... I was +going to apprise you of something. Last night, in a desperate attempt to +revictual us, the Marshal left for Dourlens; he took with him so many +men that an attack upon us just now would certainly be successful. Half +of the army is away from the camp! + + CARBON. + +But the Spanish do not know of it. + + GUICHE. + +Yes, they do. They are going to attack us. My false spy came to tell me +of it. He added: "I can have the attack made wherever you prefer." I +answered: "Good. Leave the camp and watch it. The point to attack will +be the one from which I make a signal to you." + + CARBON (_to the Cadets_). + +Gentlemen, make ready! + + (_The Cadets rise and busy themselves preparing for the fight._) + + GUICHE. + +The attack will take place in an hour from now. + + A FEW CADETS. + +Oh!.... that is different! + + (_They sit down and resume playing._) + + GUICHE (_to Carbon_). + +You must gain time, pending the Marshal's return. + + CARBON. + +And, in order to gain time, what shall we do? + + GUICHE. + +You will have the goodness to get killed, all of you, in defense of the +camp. + + CYRANO. + +Ah! this is his vengeance! + + GUICHE. + +I will not pretend that, if I loved you, I should have selected you; +but, as your bravery has no equal, by using you I am serving my king as +well as my ill-will. + + CYRANO. + +Allow me, Sir, to be thankful for the honour. + + GUICHE. + +Oh! I know that you love to fight one against a hundred. You certainly +cannot complain, then, that I leave you inactive. + + (_He goes toward the rear with Carbon._) + + CYRANO (_to the Cadets_). + +Well, then we will add to the Gascon coat of arms, proud of its six +chevrons of azure and gold, gentlemen, another chevron, still lacking, +one of blood! + + (_Guiche speaks, aside, with Carbon in the rear. Orders are given. + Preparations against attack. Cyrano goes up to Christian, who has + remained motionless with folded arms._) + + CYRANO (_placing his hand on Christian's shoulder_). + +Christian! + + CHRISTIAN (_shaking his head_). + +Roxane. + + CYRANO. + +Alas! + + CHRISTIAN. + +At least, I should like to condense all the loving farewells of my heart +into a beautiful letter!.... + + CYRANO. + +I thought it might be for to-day, and.... + + (_He draws a letter from his doublet_) + + .... I have written your farewell. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Let me see!.... + + CYRANO. + +You desire to?.... + + CHRISTIAN (_taking the letter_). + +Yes, certainly! + + (_He opens the letter, reads, and stops._) + +What is this?.... + + CYRANO. + +What? + + CHRISTIAN. + +This little round spot?.... + + CYRANO (_taking the letter and looking at it with + an air of innocence_). + +A little round spot?.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Yes, a tear! + + CYRANO. + +Oh!.... Yes!.... we poets are caught in our own trap, through the swing +of our art. You understand.... this letter,--was heart-rending; I drew +tears from my own eyes as I was writing it. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Tears?.... + + CYRANO. + +Yes.... because.... to die is not so terrible .... but ....never to see +her again, that is the torture! for the fact is, I shall never.... + + (_Christian looks at him._) + + We shall never.... + + (_Quickly_). + + You shall never.... + + CHRISTIAN (_snatching the letter from him_). + +Give me the letter! + + (_A murmur is heard in the rear._) + + A SENTINEL. + +Ventrebieu! who goes there? + + (_A few musket shots. Voices. Sound of carriage bells._) + + CARBON. + +What is it? + + SENTINEL (_on the embankment_). + +A coach! + + (_All rush up to look._) + + CRIES. + +What! In the camp?--Coming in!--It seems to come from the +enemy!--Diantre! Fire!--No! the coachman shouted!--Shouted +what?--Shouted: "Service of the King." + + (_They are all on the embankment, looking into the distance. The + sound of carriage bells grows nearer and nearer._) + + GUICHE. + +What? of the King!.... + + (_All come down again and form in line._) + + CARBON. + +Hats off, all! + + GUICHE (_to those in the distance_). + +Of the King! I said.--Make way, you rabble, so that he can swing around +in state. + + (_The coach enters on a full trot. It is covered with mud and dust. + The curtains are closed. Two lackeys behind. It stops short._) + + CARBON (_shouting_). + +Salute! + + (_Drums beat._) + + GUICHE. + +Lower the step! + +(_Two men advance rapidly. The coach door opens._) + + ROXANE (_jumping out of coach_). + +How are you all? + + (_On hearing a woman's voice, they all, from a profound + inclination, suddenly straighten up. Stupor._) + + + _SCENE V._ + + _The same_, ROXANE. + + GUICHE. + +Service of the King! You? + + ROXANE. + +Certainly, of the only king there is: Love! + + CYRANO. + +Great God. + + CHRISTIAN (_rushing up to her_). + +You, Roxane! Wherefor? + + ROXANE. + +Oh! this siege was entirely too long. + + CHRISTIAN. + +But the reason?.... + + ROXANE. + +I'll tell you later. + + CYRANO (_he has remained motionless, without + daring to look at her_). + +Heavens! Shall I face her? + + GUICHE. + +You cannot remain here! + + ROXANE (_gayly_). + +Oh! yes, I can! Will you be kind enough to bring up a drum? + + (_One of the Cadets brings up a drum, on which she sits._) + +There! thank you. + + (_laughing_). + +Do you know that they fired on my coach? It looks like a squash, does it +not? As in the fairy tale; and the lackeys like rats. + + (_sending a kiss to Christian_). + +How are you, dear? + + (_looking around at them all_). + +You don't seem to be very merry here! I didn't know that Arras was so +far off. + + (_looking at Cyrano_). + +Cousin, delighted! + + CYRANO (_advancing_). + +Roxane, tell me how?.... + + ROXANE. + +How I managed to find the army? Oh! my dear friend, it was the simplest +thing in the world: I drove on so long as I saw the country laid waste. +Such horrors must be seen to be believed! If that is the service of your +King, gentlemen, my service is a better one. + + CYRANO. + +Come, this is foolhardiness! How could you pass? + + ROXANE. + +How? Why! Right through the Spanish army. + + FIRST CADET. + +Oh! women. They are knowing ones! + + GUICHE. + +But how could you get through their lines? + + LE BRET. + +It must have been very difficult! + + ROXANE. + +Why! No. I just went along, in my coach, on a trot. Whenever one of the +Dons showed his haughty face, I put on and displayed through the window +my most fascinating smile, and these gentlemen being, whatever the +French may say, the most courteous people in the world, I passed! + + CARBON. + +Yes, you have a most excellent passport in that smile! But you must +frequently have been called upon, Madam, to declare whither you were +going. + + ROXANE. + +Oh! yes, quite frequently. I answered simply: "I am going to see my +lover."--Immediately the most ferocious Spaniard would gravely close the +door of my coach, with a knightly wave of the hand order up the muskets +already pointed at me, and, with as much grace as haughtiness, the plume +of his hat proudly floating on the breeze, bow low and say: "Pass on, +Senorita!" + + CHRISTIAN. + +But, Roxane.... + + ROXANE. + +I said: My lover. Yes, husband, you must forgive! You will surely +understand that, if I had said my husband, nobody would have let me +pass! + + CHRISTIAN. + +But.... + + ROXANE. + +Well, what? + + GUICHE. + +You must be gone immediately! + + ROXANE. + +I? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, and sooner! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Yes, at once. + + ROXANE. + +But how can I get away? + + CHRISTIAN (_embarrassed_). + +The fact is.... + + CYRANO (_likewise embarrassed_). + +In forty-five minutes.... + + GUICHE (_also embarrassed_). + +Or fifty.... + + CARBON (_embarrassed too_). + +It would be preferable.... + + LE BRET. + +You might.... + + ROXANE. + +I remain, for there is going to be fighting. + + ALL. + +Fighting? Nothing of the kind. + + ROXANE (_throwing herself into the arms of Christian_). + +He is my husband! And if he is killed, I must be killed too! + + CHRISTIAN. + +But what is the matter with your eyes? + + ROXANE. + +I will tell you later! + + GUICHE. + +But the post is a most dangerous one. + + ROXANE (_turning_). + +What! So dangerous? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, and the proof is that he assigned it to us. + + ROXANE (_to Guiche_). + +So, you desire to make a widow of me? + + GUICHE. + +I swear to you.... + + ROXANE. + +No! Now I am determined and I will not leave!.... Moreover, it is very +exciting. + + CYRANO. + +What! will the "précieuse" turn out to be a heroine? + + ROXANE. + +Monsieur de Bergerac, I am your cousin. + + A CADET. + +Moreover, we will defend you desperately! + + ROXANE (_growing more and more excited_). + +I believe it, my friends! + + ANOTHER CADET (_elated_). + +A perfume of iris pervades the camp. + + ROXANE. + +Just so! I put some on this hat, which will be very becoming in the +fray!.... + + (_looking at Guiche_). + +But perhaps it is time the Count should leave: the fight might begin. + + GUICHE. + +Ah! this is too much! I will inspect the guns and return .... You have a +little time left still,....change your mind! + + ROXANE. + +Never! + + (_Exit Guiche._) + + + _SCENE VI._ + + _The same, except_ GUICHE. + + CHRISTIAN (_supplicating_). + +Roxane!.... + + ROXANE. + +No! + + FIRST CADET (_to the others_). + +She remains! + + ALL (_rushing around hurriedly, and brushing up_). + +A comb!--Soap!--My doublet is torn: a needle!--A bright bow!--Your +looking glass!--My cuffs!--Your curling iron!--A razor! + + ROXANE (_to Cyrano, who continues begging her to leave_). + +No! I will not budge from here! + + CARBON (_after having, like the others, tightened + his belt and arranged his cuffs, advances + toward Roxane and says ceremoniously:_) + +Such being the case, it may not seem improper for me to present to you a +few of the gentlemen who will have the honour of dying before your eyes. + + (_Roxane bows, and waits leaning on the arm of Christian. Carbon + makes the presentations._) + +Baron de Peyrescous de Colignac! + + A CADET (_bowing_). + +Madam.... + + CARBON (_continuing_). + +Baron de Casterac de Cahuzac!--Baron de Malgouyre Estressac Lesbas +d'Escarabiot!--Chevalier d'Antignac-Juzet!--Baron Hillot de +Blagnac--Salechan de Castel Crabioules! + + ROXANE. + +But how many names has each of you. + + BARON HILLOT. + +More than many. + + CARBON (_to Roxane_). + +Kindly open the hand that holds your handkerchief. + + ROXANE (_opens her hand; her handkerchief falls_). + +What for? + + (_The whole company darts forward to pick it up._) + + CARBON (_heading them off and seizing it_). + +My company had no flag! Now it will have the finest in the camp! + + ROXANE (_smiling_). + +It is rather small! + + CARBON (_tying the handkerchief to his lance_). + +It is lace.... and yours! + + A CADET (_to the others_). + +I would die most willingly for eyes so beautiful, if only I could have a +crust of bread or two. + + CARBON (_indignant_). + +For shame! How can you think of eating before so exquisite a woman?.... + + ROXANE. + +But he is right. The morning air is sharp, and I myself am famished. +Meat-pie,--cold game and jelly, some good wine,--I'll have nothing else, +thank you! Suppose we have them now? There is still time. + + A CADET. + +But where shall we get all these good things? + + ROXANE (_quietly_). + +In my coach. + + ALL. + +What!.... + + ROXANE. + +But somebody must serve and carve. Look at my coachman more attentively, +gentlemen, and you will see that he is a very valuable man. + + THE CADETS (_running up to the coach_). + +Why! It's Ragueneau! + + ROXANE (_looking at them_). + +Poor hungry fellows! + + CYRANO (_kissing her hand_). + +What a kind fairy you are! + + RAGUENEAU (_standing on his seat_). + +Gentlemen!.... + + THE CADETS. + +Speech! Speech! + + RAGUENEAU. + +The Spaniards, when so much beauty passed, did not see the repast. +(_Applause._) They are so bony that they did not notice the boned +turkey. + + (_He takes a dish from under his seat and passes it down._) + + CYRANO (_aside to Christian_). + +A word with you for pity's sake!.... + + RAGUENEAU. + +They were so busy with Venus that they allowed Diana's spoils to pass. + + (_He hands down a stag's leg._) + + CYRANO (_aside to Christian_). + +I must speak to you! + + ROXANE (_to the Cadets who come up loaded with eatables_). + +Place all that on the ground. + + (_She spreads a table-cloth on the grass, and, with the assistance + of the two lackeys, prepares the cover._) + + (_to Christian, whom Cyrano is endeavouring to draw aside_). + +Come, make yourself useful. + + (_Christian helps her. Cyrano looks anxious._) + + RAGUENEAU. + +A stuffed peacock! + + A CADET (_cutting for himself a large slice of ham_). + +Jupiter's thunder! We'll not die without previously ....stuffing +our....(_noticing Roxane_) your pardon.... feasting! + + RAGUENEAU (_tossing to them the coach's cushions_). + +These cushions are stuffed with ortolans! + + (_Confusion. Cushions ripped open. Laughter. Joy._) + + THIRD CADET. + +Ah! Viédaze! + + RAGUENEAU (_handing out bottles of red wine_). + + Liquid rubies!.... + + (_Bottles of white wine._) + + Melted topaz!.... + + ROXANE (_throwing a table-cloth that falls on + Cyrano's head_). + +Attend to this!.... Be nimble! + + RAGUENEAU (_handing down one of the lanterns_). + +Each one of the lanterns is a diminutive larder! + + CYRANO (_unfolds the table-cloth, getting near to + Christian, who assists him_). + +I must speak to you before you speak to her! + + RAGUENEAU (_growing lyrical_). + +The handle of my whip is a sausage from Arles! + + ROXANE (_passing the dishes and filling glasses_). + +Since we are ordered to die, what care we for the rest of the +army?--Yes! all for the Gascons!--and, if Guiche comes, we'll not invite +him! (_going from one to the other_). + +Come, you have plenty of time. Do not eat so fast! Drink a little.--Why +have you tears in your eyes? + + FIRST CADET. + +Because it's all too good!.... + + ROXANE. + +Hush!--Red or white?--Bread, Monsieur de Carbon!--A knife?--Your +plate!--Meat pie?--Champagne wine?--Chicken? + + CYRANO (_following her, loaded with eatables, and + helping her to serve. Aside_). + +How I love her! + + ROXANE (_going up to Christian_). + +And what will _you_ have? + + CHRISTIAN. + +Nothing. + + ROXANE. + +Yes, just a cake and a little Muscatel! + + CHRISTIAN (_endeavouring to detain her_). + +Oh! tell me why, why you came? + + ROXANE. + +Hush! Let me first give these poor starving fellows something to eat.... +I'll tell you by and by.... + + LE BRET (_who had gone to the rear, to pass, on + the end of a lance, a loaf of bread to the + sentinel on the embankment_). + +Here is Guiche! + + CYRANO. + +Make haste, hide bottles, dishes, plates, baskets, everything! Be lively +there! Let him notice nothing!.... + + (_to Ragueneau_). + +You, get up to your box again!--Be quick! Everything out of the way! + + (_It has taken only a few seconds to conceal everything, under + tent, doublet, cloak or hat.--Enter Guiche. He stops and sniffs the + air.--Silence._) + + + _SCENE VII._ + + _The same_, GUICHE. + + GUICHE. + +It smells good here! + + A CADET (_humming an air, unconcernedly_). + +To lo lo!.... + + GUICHE (_stopping and looking at him_). + +Why! what is the matter?.... You are as red as a beet! + + THE CADET. + +I?.... Oh! nothing. Merely my blood. We are going to fight. It boils! + + ANOTHER CADET. + +Poum.... poum.... poum.... patapoum.... + + GUICHE (_turning to him_). + +What is this, now? + + THE CADET (_slightly feeling the effects of wine_). + +That, oh! nothing. Just a little song! + + GUICHE. + +You are of a lively disposition, my boy! + + THE CADET. + +Oh! the approach of danger! + + GUICHE (_calling Carbon to give an order_). + +Captain,.... + + (_looking at him with astonishment_). + +Zounds! You, too, have an over-healthy look! + + CARBON (_very red in the face, and hiding a + bottle behind his back_). + +Oh! constitution.... + + GUICHE. + +I had a field-piece left and I ordered it placed in that corner +(_pointing to the wings_). + +Your men may have occasion to use it. + + ONE OF THE CADETS (_with an affectation of thankfulness_). + +Delightful attention! + + ANOTHER CADET (_smiling gracefully_). + +Exquisitely thoughtful! + + GUICHE (_aside_). + +Why! they have all gone mad!-- + + (_sternly_). + + As you are not accustomed + to using cannon, beware of the recoil. + + FIRST CADET. + +Who cares for recoil? + + GUICHE (_going up to him, in rage_). + +Look here, Sir!.... + + THE CADET. + +Gascon guns never move backward. + + GUICHE (_taking him by the arm and shaking him_). + +You are intoxicated, Sir!.... with what? + + THE CADET (_proudly_). + +With the smell of gun powder! + + GUICHE (_shrugs his shoulders, pushes him, and + goes up to Roxane_). + +You must decide quickly. What will you be pleased to do? + + ROXANE. + +I remain! + + GUICHE. + +No, better escape! + + ROXANE. + +Fly? Never. + + GUICHE. + +Such being the case, give me a musket! + + CARBON. + +What for? + + GUICHE. + +I, too, will remain. + + CYRANO. + +At last, Sir, you show your courage! + + FIRST CADET. + +So you are a true Gascon, after all, in spite of your lace? + + GUICHE. + +I never abandon a woman in danger! + + SECOND CADET (_to the first Cadet_). + +Say! don't you think he deserves something to eat? + + (_Eatables and drinkables instantly reappear._) + + GUICHE (_whose eyes brighten_). + +Provisions! + + THIRD CADET. + +Every doublet covers some! + + GUICHE (_mastering himself, proudly_). + +I eat nobody's leavings! + + CYRANO (_bowing_). + +You are improving, Sir! + + GUICHE (_proudly and forgetting to master his + natural Gascon accent_). + +I know how to fight on an empty stomach! _A jeung!_ + + FIRST CADET (_overjoyed_). + +He said it with the Gascon accent! + + GUICHE (_laughing_). + +Did I? + + THE CADET. + +He is one of us! + + (_They all begin to dance._) + + CARBON (_who has been away a moment behind + the embankment, reappearing on top of it_). + +My men are placed, and determined! + + (_He points to a row of lances that show over the crest of the + embankment._) + + GUICHE (_to Roxane, bowing_). + +Will you accept my hand to pass them in review?.... + + (_She gives her hand and they go up to the embankment. Hats come + off, and everybody follows._) + + CHRISTIAN (_going up to Cyrano_). + +Now! speak quickly! + + (_As Roxane appears on the crest, the lances disappear in a salute; + she bows._) + + THE MEN (_outside_). + +Hurrah! + + CHRISTIAN. + +What is your secret?.... + + CYRANO. + +In case Roxane... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Well? + + CYRANO. + +Should speak to you of letters.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Yes, yes, I know!.... + + CYRANO. + +Do not be silly enough to appear surprised.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Surprised by what? + + CYRANO. + +Oh! I must tell you.... The simplest thing in the world .... and I +happened to think of it only to-day, on seeing her. You have.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +I have what? + + CYRANO. + +You have....written to her more often than you think. + + CHRISTIAN. + +How so? + + CYRANO. + +Well! I had undertaken to speak for you, and I interpreted your love. +Sometimes I wrote without saying to you: I'm writing! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Oh! you did? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, the simplest thing in the world, as I said! + + CHRISTIAN. + +But, since we have been hemmed in, how did you manage to.... + + CYRANO. + +Oh!.... Before dawn I could pass through the lines.... + + CHRISTIAN (_folding his arms_). + +Ah! another very simple matter, I suppose? And how many times a week did +I write?.... Twice?--Three times?--Four times?-- + + CYRANO. + +More. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Every day? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, every day,--twice. + + CHRISTIAN (_with violence_). + +And this enraptured you, and the rapture was such that each day you +faced death.... + + CYRANO (_noticing Roxane, who is returning_). + +Hush! not in her presence! + + (_Exit rapidly, under his tent._) + + + _SCENE VIII._ + + ROXANE, CHRISTIAN; _in the rear_ CADETS, _going + and coming_: CARBON _and_ GUICHE + _giving orders_. + + ROXANE (_running up to Christian_). + +And now, dear Christian!.... + + CHRISTIAN (_taking both her hands_). + +And now tell me why, over impassable roads, why, through the ranks of +brutal soldiery, you joined me here. + + ROXANE. + +On account of your letters. + + CHRISTIAN. + +My letters? + + ROXANE. + +Yes, and it is your fault if I took so many risks. Your letters +intoxicated me. Ah! remember how many you wrote me, during this last +month, and all so beautiful! + + CHRISTIAN. + +What! Do you mean to say that for a few short love letters?.... + + ROXANE. + + Your letters, yes! My ardent love for you, + Love passionate, was born that night of bliss + When, from beneath my willing balcony, + In accents that to both of us were new, + A soul revealed itself to me....'twas yours.... + So that, each time your letters came, it seemed + As if I lived those minutes once again, + And, rapture-bound, I heard your voice itself, + Those tender tones that twined around me then. + So here am I! Penelope would not + Have persevered in waiting labour if + Ulysses could have written grandly so; + But, daft as Helen, she, to join him, would + Have flung away her tedious worsted balls. + + CHRISTIAN. + + But.... + + ROXANE. + + Yes, I read and read, while every thrill + Confirmed me yours. Each leaflet that I held + Was like a petal wafted from your soul, + Each word was one of love sincere and strong.... + + CHRISTIAN. + + Indeed, sincere and strong?--You felt it so?.... + + ROXANE. + + Oh! yes, so strongly! + + CHRISTIAN. + + And, Roxane, you came.... + + ROXANE. + + I came because.... O Christian, dearest conqueror, + You'd bid me rise, if I should clasp your knees; + So 'tis my soul that's at your feet. My soul + You never can remove from reverence. + I came to seek forgiveness (and the time + Is meet, indeed, since death is near, perhaps!), + Your pardon for--how frivolous I was!-- + Once loving you for beauty's sake alone. + + CHRISTIAN (_frightened_). + + Roxane! + + ROXANE. + + But later, dear, with growing sense, + --A bird will hop before it learns to soar-- + I marked your soul outshining e'en your looks, + And then I loved you more for both. + + CHRISTIAN. + + And now? + + ROXANE. + + You have, in short, yourself outshone yourself, + And now I love you for your soul alone. + + CHRISTIAN. + + Roxane! + + ROXANE. + + Rejoice! What is a love we owe + To passing gifts, to beauty doomed to fade? + It's torture for an eager, noble heart. + My thoughts of you recall no handsome face; + Your beauty that, at first, had captured me, + Now that my eyes are opened, strikes me not. + + CHRISTIAN. + + Oh! + + ROXANE. + + Doubt you not what victory is yours! + + CHRISTIAN. + + Roxane! + + ROXANE. + + I understand. Such love as this + Is past belief. + + CHRISTIAN. + + 'Tis not the love I seek. + I wish to be belovèd simply for.... + + ROXANE. + + For what some others prized before to-day? + Oh! let your heart make room for better love! + + CHRISTIAN. + + Roxane, your former love was better. + + ROXANE. + + Nay! + 'Tis now I love you better, most and well! + 'Tis what is really you that now I love, + And I should love you still if you should cease.... + + CHRISTIAN. + + Oh! hush, Roxane. + + ROXANE. + + Yes, cease to look so grand. + + CHRISTIAN. + + If I were homely? + + ROXANE. + + Even hideous! + + CHRISTIAN. + + Roxane!.... + + ROXANE. + + The thought should give you joy profound. + + CHRISTIAN (_in a husky voice_). + +Yes.... + + ROXANE. + +What troubles you? + + CHRISTIAN (_gently pushing her off_). + +Nothing. I have an order to give! One second, please.... + + ROXANE. + +But.... + + CHRISTIAN (_pointing to a group of Cadets in the rear_). + +My love for you, my selfishness, has deprived these poor fellows of your +sweet company. Go smile to them a little, since they are about to +die.... Go! + + ROXANE (_moved_). + +How good you are, dear Christian!.... + + (_She goes up to the Gascons, who respectfully surround her._) + + + _SCENE IX._ + + CHRISTIAN, CYRANO: _in the rear_, ROXANE _speaking + with_ CARBON _and some of the Cadets_. + + CHRISTIAN (_calling out in the direction of Cyrano's tent_). + +Cyrano! + + CYRANO (_coming out armed for battle_). + +What is it? You are white as a ghost! + + CHRISTIAN. + +She loves me no more! + + CYRANO. + +How so? + + CHRISTIAN. + +You are the one she loves. + + CYRANO. + +Nonsense! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Now my soul is all she loves. + + CYRANO. + +Fiddlesticks! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I tell you it is so! You therefore are the one she loves,--and you love +her. + + CYRANO. + +I? + + CHRISTIAN. + +I know it! + + CYRANO. + +Well, it is true. + + CHRISTIAN. + +You love her madly. + + CYRANO. + +More than that. + + CHRISTIAN. + +Tell her so! + + CYRANO. + +No! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Why not? + + CYRANO. + +Look at my face! + + CHRISTIAN. + +She said she would love me even if I were homely! + + CYRANO. + +She really told you so? + + CHRISTIAN. + +She did! + + CYRANO. + +I am very glad she said so! But you must not believe anything so wild. +Do not lose your beauty, for then she would hate me too much. + + CHRISTIAN. + +That we shall see. Let her choose! Tell her all. + + CYRANO. + +No, no! Do not put me to such torture! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Would you have me destroy your happiness because of my good looks? That +would be too unjust! + + CYRANO. + +And I should ruin yours because I happen, by mere chance, to have the +gift of expressing.... that which no doubt you feel? + + CHRISTIAN. + +Tell her all, I say! + + CYRANO. + +You persist in tempting me. It is wrong! + + CHRISTIAN. + +I am tired of having a rival in myself! + + CYRANO. + +Oh! Christian! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Our marriage.... without witnesses.... quite secret, in fact, could be +annulled.... should we survive! + + CYRANO. + +How obstinate he is!.... + + CHRISTIAN. + +Perhaps,....but I desire to be loved for myself,....or not at all!--But +enough!... I had better go see how things are progressing. I'll return +presently; meanwhile, speak, and let her prefer one of us two! + + CYRANO. + +It shall be you! + + CHRISTIAN. + +Well.... I hope so! + + (_he calls out_) Roxane! + + CYRANO. + +No, do not call her, please! + + ROXANE (_running in_). + +What is it? + + CHRISTIAN. + +Cyrano will tell you... something.... important.... + + (_She runs up to Cyrano. Exit Christian._) + + + _SCENE X._ + + ROXANE, CYRANO, _later_ LE BRET, CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL, + THE CADETS, RAGUENEAU, GUICHE, _etc._ + + ROXANE. + +Something important?.... + + CYRANO (_bewildered_). + +What! he is gone!.... (_to Roxane_) + + Oh, nothing!.... + he attaches--Oh! well, you must know him!--a great deal + of importance to trifles! + + ROXANE (_eagerly_). + +He doubts, perhaps, the truth of what I said?.... I could almost see he +did not believe it!.... + + CYRANO (_taking her by the hand_). + +But was what you said really true? + + ROXANE. + +Certainly. I would love him even.... (_she hesitates a second._) + + CYRANO (_smiling sadly_). + +You stop at the word.... in my presence? + + ROXANE. + +But.... + + CYRANO. + +It will not hurt my feelings! You meant: Even if he were homely! + + ROXANE. + +Yes.... homely! + + (_Sound of musketry in the rear._) + + CYRANO (_ardently_). + +Abominably so? + + ROXANE. + +Yes! + + CYRANO. + +Disfigured? + + ROXANE. + +Yes, disfigured! + + CYRANO. + +Grotesque? + + ROXANE. + +Nothing can make him look grotesque.... to me! + + CYRANO. + +And then you would love him still? + + ROXANE. + +More, perhaps! + + CYRANO (_losing his self control, aside_). + +Good God! It is true, perhaps, and happiness is there! (_to Roxane_). +Well, then.... Roxane.... listen!.... + + LE BRET (_entering rapidly and calling in a low voice_). + +Cyrano! + + CYRANO (_turning around_). + +What is it? + + LE BRET. + +Hush! (_whispers to him a few words._) + + CYRANO (_dropping Roxane's hand_). + +Great God!.... + + ROXANE. + +What has happened? + + CYRANO (_stupefied_). + +It is all over! + + (_Sounds of musketry again._) + + ROXANE. + +What is it? Why all this firing? + + (_She goes up and looks beyond the embankment._) + + CYRANO. + +All over! I never can tell her! + + ROXANE (_as if going to rush out_). + +What is going on? + + CYRANO (_restraining her_). + +Nothing! nothing! + + (_Cadets enter bearing something which they conceal by forming + around it a group that keeps Roxane at a distance._) + + ROXANE. + +What are these men here for? + + CYRANO (_leading her away_). + +Never mind them!.... + + ROXANE. + +But what is it you were going to say before this disturbance? + + CYRANO. + +Going to say?.... Nothing. Oh! nothing, I swear it, Madam! (_Solemnly_) +I swear that the spirit of Christian and his soul were.... (_correcting +himself_) _are_ the greatest.... + + ROXANE. + +You said: were! + + (_With a shriek_). Ah!.... (_she rushes back, pushing the men + aside._) + + CYRANO. + +The end has come! + + ROXANE (_seeing Christian laid out in his cloak_). + +Christian! + + LE BRET (_to Cyrano_). + +The first shot fired by the enemy! + + (_Roxane throws herself upon the body of Christian. Musketry again. + Clash of arms. Shouts. Drums._) + + CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL (_sword in hand_). + +The attack! to your arms! + + (_Followed by the Cadets he goes to the other side of the + embankment._) + + ROXANE (_in despair_). + +Christian! Christian! + + THE VOICE OF CARBON (_from behind the embankment_). + +Make haste there! + + ROXANE. + +Christian! + + CARBON. + +_Fall into line!_ + + ROXANE. + +Christian! + + CARBON. + +_Measure.... match!_ + + (_Ragueneau has rushed up bringing some water in a helmet._) + + CHRISTIAN (_in dying tone_). + +Roxane!.... + + CYRANO (_quickly and in a low tone, in the ear + of Christian, while Roxane, frantic, dips + into the water of the helmet a piece of + linen which she has torn from her breast_). + +I told her all! and it is you she still loves! + + (_Christian closes his eyes._) + + ROXANE. + +What is it, my love? + + CARBON. + +_Ramrods.... high!_ + + ROXANE (_to Cyrano_). + +He is not dead?.... + + CARBON. + +_Open charge.... with teeth!_ + + ROXANE. + +I feel, here against mine, his cheek getting cold! + + CARBON (_outside_). + +_Take aim!_ + + ROXANE. + +A letter in his bosom! (_she opens the letter_) for me! + + CYRANO (_aside_). + +My letter! + + CARBON. + +_Fire!_ + + (_Musketry. Cries. Noise of battle._) + + CYRANO (_trying to draw away his hand that is + held by Roxane, who is on her knees_). + +But, Roxane, I must join in the fight! + + ROXANE (_holding him back_). + +Stay just a little. He is dead, and you were the only one who really +knew him. + + (_She weeps softly._) Is it not true that he had an exquisite soul, + a marvellous one? + + CYRANO (_standing bareheaded_). + +Yes, Roxane! + + ROXANE. + +That he was a thrilling poet, an adorable one? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, Roxane! + + ROXANE. + +A sublime spirit? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, Roxane! + + ROXANE. + +That he had a heart large and brave, too deep to be fathomed by the +crowd? + + CYRANO (_firmly_). + +Yes, Roxane! + + ROXANE (_throwing herself upon the body of Christian_). + +And he is dead! + + CYRANO (_aside, as he draws his sword_). + +And I to-day can but die, since, though she knows it not, it is for me +she is weeping over him! + + (_Sound of trumpets in the distance._) + + GUICHE (_reappearing on the embankment, hatless, + wounded in the forehead; with a voice of + thunder_). + +It is the signal that was promised! the trumpets! our comrades come with +help and food! Hold fast a few minutes! + + ROXANE. + +On his letter blood .... and tears! + + A VOICE (_outside the embankment_). + +Surrender! + + THE CADETS. + +No! + + RAGUENEAU (_who has climbed upon the coach, + and is looking at the battle over the + embankment_). + +We are lost! + + CYRANO (_to Guiche, pointing to Roxane_). + +Carry her off! I will charge! + + ROXANE (_in dying tones, as she kisses the letter_). + +His blood! His tears!.... + + RAGUENEAU (_jumping off the coach and running toward her_). + +She is fainting! + + GUICHE (_on the embankment, fiercely, to the Cadets_). + +Steady, for your lives! + + A VOICE (_outside_). + +Lay down your arms! + + THE CADETS. + +Never! + + CYRANO (_to Guiche_). + +You have proved your valour, Sir! You can afford to fly (_pointing to +Roxane_) and save her! + + GUICHE (_runs to Roxane and takes her in his arms_). + +So be it! Hold fast a few moments and we shall win the day! + + CYRANO. + +We'll hold to the death! + + (_In a voice of anguish, looking toward Roxane, whom Guiche and + Ragueneau are carrying away senseless_). + +Farewell, Roxane! + + (_Tumult. Cries. Wounded Cadets reappear and fall within the + embankment. Cyrano, rushing to the fray, is stopped on the crest of + the embankment by Carbon of Haughty-Hall, covered with blood._) + + CARBON. + +We are wavering! I have received two gun shots. + + CYRANO (_shouting to the Gascons_). + +Steady there! Hold fast, you rascals! + + (_to Carbon, holding him up_). + +Have no fear! I have two deaths to avenge: Christian's and that of my +happiness! + + (_Both come down. Cyrano brandishes a lance to which is attached + the handkerchief of Roxane._) + +Float bravely on, you little flag of lace that is hers! (_He plants the +lance into the ground and cries to the Cadets_). + +Fall upon them now! Crush them! (_to the fife player_) And you, strike +up! + + (_The fife plays. The wounded rise to their feet. The Cadets form a + group around Cyrano and the little flag; others climb into and upon + the coach, making it look like a small fortress._) + + A CADET (_coming up from the outside of the + embankment, backward, still fighting_). + +They come! they come! + + (_Falls down dead._) + + CYRANO. + +We'll give them a salute! + + (_The embankment is at once occupied by a troop of the enemy, with + large flags waving._) + +Fire! + + (_General discharge._) + + ORDER (_from the enemy's ranks_). + +Fire! + + (_Most of the Cadets fall, either wounded or dead._) + + A SPANISH OFFICER (_taking off his hat_). + +Who are these people dying so bravely? + + CYRANO (_erect and proudly reciting_). + + Fair Gascony's cadets are they, + With Carbon,--He of Haughty-Hall; + They fight and lie without dismay, + + (_He rushes on to enemy, followed by a few surviving Cadets._) + + Fair Gascony's cadets.... + + (_The rest is lost in the noise of battle._) + + _CURTAIN._ + + [Illustration: _FOURTH ACT._] + + + + + _ACT V._ + + CYRANO'S GAZETTE. + + +_Fifteen years later, in 1655. The garden of the Convent of the Ladies +of the Cross, in Paris._ + +_Beautiful shade trees. To the left, the house. Wide porch on which +several doors open. In the centre of the stage, an enormous +overspreading tree standing alone in a sort of open circle. To the +right, first entrance, backed by high box-wood bushes, a semi-circular +stone bench._ + +_In the rear an avenue of chestnut trees leading up to fourth entrance, +right, where the door of the Chapel can be seen through the branches. +Beyond the avenue, lawns, other rows of trees, shrubbery and the sky._ + +_The Chapel has a small side door, from which starts, running down to +the right, first entrance, behind the box-wood bushes, a sort of +colonnade entwined with creepers rich in hues of gold and red._ + +_It is Autumn. The russet leaves of the trees are in bright contrast +with the green lawns, except the box-wood and yew-trees that form dark +spots here and there. Yellow leaves beneath the trees; fallen leaves +everywhere on the ground, on the porch and on the benches._ + +_Between the stone bench to the right and the tree in the centre, a +tapestry frame, and in front of it a chair. Baskets full of worsted +skeins and balls. On the frame, a piece of tapestry-work, unfinished._ + +_As the curtain rises, sisters are going and coming through the garden; +some are seated on the bench, on either side of an elderly sister. +Leaves are falling._ + + + _SCENE I._ + + MOTHER MARGARET, SISTER MARTHA, SISTER CLAIRE, _other_ SISTERS. + + SISTER MARTHA (_to Mother Margaret_). + +Sister Claire looked at herself twice in the mirror. + + MOTHER MARGARET (_to Sister Claire_). + +That was very wrong! + + SISTER CLAIRE. + +But Sister Martha pulled a plum out of the pie this morning; I saw her +do it. + + MOTHER MARGARET (_to Sister Martha_). + +Very wrong, indeed, Sister Martha! + + SISTER CLAIRE. + +A little bit of a look! + + SISTER MARTHA. + +A little bit of a plum! + + MOTHER MARGARET. + +I'll have to tell Mr. Cyrano. + + SISTER CLAIRE (_frightened_). + +Oh! please, do not, he would tease us!.... + + SISTER MARTHA. + +.... Say that we are vain!.... + + SISTER CLAIRE. + +.... Or great gluttons!.... + + MOTHER MARGARET (_smiling_). + +But full of goodness. + + SISTER CLAIRE. + +Is it not true, Mother, that he has been coming here, every Saturday, +for the last ten years? + + MOTHER MARGARET. + +And more. Ever since his cousin, fourteen years ago, saddened the +whiteness of our caps with the darkness of her widow's veil, as would a +bird of sombre hue alighting 'mid a flight of brighter birds. + + SISTER MARTHA. + +And he alone can relieve with a ray of light the grief that she persists +in feeding. + + THE OTHER SISTERS. + +He is so entertaining!--It is fun when he comes!--He teases us!--He is +so kind!--We love him so!--And we make sweets for him! + + SISTER MARTHA. + +But he is not a very good Catholic! + + SISTER CLAIRE. + +We'll convert him! + + THE OTHER SISTERS. + +Assuredly, we will! + + MOTHER MARGARET. + +I forbid your tormenting him on that score, children. He might come here +less often? + + SISTER MARTHA. + +But.... dear Mother.... God.... + + MOTHER MARGARET. + +Have no fear.... God knows him! + + SISTER MARTHA. + +But, every Saturday, as he enters, he says proudly: "Sister, like a bad +Catholic, I ate meat yesterday!" + + MOTHER MARGARET. + +Is that what he says? Well, the last time he came he had eaten nothing +whatever for two days. + + SISTER MARTHA. + +Mother! + + MOTHER MARGARET. + +He is very poor. Mr. Le Bret told me so. + + SISTER MARTHA. + +And no one assists him! + + MOTHER MARGARET. + +He is proud and would not accept assistance. + + (_Roxane is seen in the rear; she is in black, wearing the long + veil of a widow. Guiche, grown older, but magnificently clad, + accompanies her. They walk slowly, Mother Margaret rises._) + +Come, it is time to get in.--Here is Madam Madeleine, with a visitor. + + SISTER MARTHA (_aside to Sister Claire_). + +It is the Marshall--Duke de Grammont. + + SISTER CLAIRE. + +Yes, I think it is. + + SISTER MARTHA. + +He has not come to see her for months! + + SISTER CLAIRE. + +The court--the army--the world--keep him away, I suppose. + + (_Exeunt Sisters. Guiche and Roxane come down in silence, and stop + near the tapestry frame. A pause._) + + + _SCENE II._ + + ROXANE, DUKE DE GRAMMONT (_formerly Count de Guiche_); + _later_ LE BRET _and_ RAGUENEAU. + + DUKE. + +And so you persist in remaining in this seclusion, uselessly lovely, +forever in mourning? + + ROXANE. + +Forever! + + DUKE. + +Ever true to his memory? + + ROXANE. + +Ever! + + DUKE. + +You have forgiven me? + + ROXANE. + +Yes! Since I am here. + + (_A pause._) + + DUKE. + +And he was truly so?.... + + ROXANE. + +You never really knew him! + + DUKE. + +Probably!.... And his last letter lies on your heart always? + + ROXANE. + +Like a blessèd talisman it hangs on this ribbon. + + DUKE. + +You love him even dead? + + ROXANE. + + At times it seems as if he'd left me not, + As if our hearts still beat as one, as if + His love still coiled around me, strong, alive! + + (_Another pause._) + + DUKE. + +Does Cyrano ever come to see you? + + ROXANE. + +Yes, often. He is a very dear old friend, and he brings me all the news. +He comes regularly, every Saturday. As the hour strikes, while I am at +work on my tapestry, I know, without even turning around to see, that he +is here, for I can hear his stick on the stone steps. If the weather is +fine, he sits under this tree, where his chair awaits him. He laughs at +what he calls my eternal work, relates to me the events of the week, +and.... + + (_Le Bret appears on the porch._) + +Why! here is Le Bret! + + (_to Le Bret, who has come down_). + +And how is our friend? + + LE BRET. + +Not at all well. + + DUKE. + +Oh! I'm sorry. + + ROXANE (_to Duke_). + +Le Bret exaggerates! + + LE BRET. + +All as I predicted: desertion and poverty!.... His epistles have made +him new enemies! He denounces mock nobility, mock piety, mock bravery, +plagiarism,--in fact everybody! + + ROXANE. + +But the fear of his wonderful sword holds them all in respect. They'll +never reach him. + + DUKE (_shaking his head_). + +Who knows? + + LE BRET. + +What I fear for him is not an assault; it is solitude, hunger, winter +stealthily entering his poor abode. These are the enemies that may lay +him low.--Each morning he buckles his belt a little tighter. His nose +has now the sallowness of old ivory. His wardrobe is reduced to one suit +of black. + + DUKE. + +Ah! he at least is not a parvenu. So, do not pity him too much. He has +lived free from obligations and humiliating restraint. + + LE BRET (_smiling sadly_). + +Duke, Duke!.... + + DUKE. + +Yes, I know: I have everything, and he has nothing.... But I should very +much like to shake his hand. + + (_bowing to Roxane_). Farewell. + + ROXANE. + +I'll see you to the gate. + + (_The Duke bows to Le Bret, and goes, with Roxane, towards the + house._) + + DUKE (_stopping a moment_). + + I envy him at times. You see, Roxane, + When we have had too much success in life, + Although we've done no very wicked act-- + We feel within a thousand sickly stings + Of self-reproach; their total is too small + To constitute remorse, but large enough + To keep us in a dull uneasiness. + Thus ducal mantles sweep, as we ascend + The steps of greatness, with their fringe of furs + A rustling heap of withered sentiments, + As now your sombre train, upon the porch, + Draws in its folds a bunch of autumn leaves. + + ROXANE (_ironically_). + +You are in a very sentimental mood. + + THE DUKE. + +Alas! yes. + + (_as he is about to go out, abruptly_). + + Monsieur Le Bret! + + (_to Roxane_). + +By your permission, one word. + + (_to Le Bret in a low tone_). + + It is true; no one would + dare to attack your friend. But there are many who hate + him, and somebody said to me, yesterday, at the Queen's + reception: "This Cyrano is not unlikely to meet some day + with an accident." Tell him not to be about too much. + To be prudent. + + LE BRET (_throwing up his arms_). + +Prudent, he! But he is coming here to-day, and I must warn him, though I +doubt if that will do much good. + + ROXANE (_who has remained on the porch, to a + sister coming up to her_). + +What is it? + + THE SISTER. + +Ragueneau wishes to see you, Madam. + + ROXANE. + +Let him in. + + (_Exit Sister._) (_to Duke and to Le Bret_). + + He comes to tell his woes. + He started to be an author, but became in turn a chanter.... + + LE BRET. + +A bath-keeper.... + + ROXANE. + +An actor.... + + LE BRET. + +A beadle.... + + ROXANE. + +A barber.... + + LE BRET. + +An archlute-teacher.... + + ROXANE. + +To-day what can he have become? + + RAGUENEAU (_entering rapidly_). + +Oh! Madam! + + (_noticing Le Bret_). Oh! Sir! + + ROXANE (_smiling_). + +Tell your misfortunes to Le Bret. I shall be back presently. + + (_Exit Roxane, with the Duke, without listening to Ragueneau, who + comes down toward Le Bret._) + + + _SCENE III._ + + LE BRET, RAGUENEAU. + + RAGUENEAU. + +After all, since you are here, Sir, it is just as well that she should +be kept in ignorance! I was on my way to see your friend, this +afternoon, when, as I was nearing his door, I saw him coming out. As I +was endeavouring to overtake him, and as he was turning the corner, a +window above him opened, and,--was it through accident? perhaps! a +lackey dropped upon him a heavy log of wood. + + LE BRET. + +Cowards!.... Abominable! + + RAGUENEAU. + +Our friend, Sir, our poet, lay there on the ground with a large hole in +his head! + + LE BRET. + +Is he dead? + + RAGUENEAU. + +No! but in what a state! I carried him up to his room... his room! You +should see what it is! + + LE BRET. + +He is in great pain? + + RAGUENEAU. + +No, Sir, he has not recovered his senses. + + LE BRET. + +You found a doctor? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Yes, one who was good enough to come. + + LE BRET. + +Unfortunate Cyrano!--We must break the news gently to Roxane.--And what +said the doctor? + + RAGUENEAU. + +He spoke of fever.... meningitis. Oh! if you saw him.... with his poor +head bandaged!.... Come quickly, Sir, there is nobody with him! It would +be death to him if he left his bed! + + LE BRET (_urging him toward the right_). + +This way is shorter; through the Chapel! + + ROXANE (_appearing on the porch, and seeing Le + Bret and Ragueneau running up the colonnade + to the Chapel!_) + +Monsieur Le Bret! + + (_Exeunt Le Bret and Ragueneau without answering._) + +No doubt another of good Ragueneau's troubles. + + + _SCENE IV._ + + ROXANE _alone, two_ SISTERS _a moment_. + + How beautiful these last September days! + My sadness fain would smile. Spring's ardour oft + Offends our grief, but Autumn chastens it. + + (_She sits down before her work. Two sisters sally from the house + carrying a large armchair that they place under the tree._) + + Ah! here's the chair in which Cyrano sits. + + (_Exeunt Sisters._) + +The hour strikes.... he's coming.--Where are my skeins!--He's not here +yet? The first time he is late.... My thimble.... Here it is. Some +sister preaching to him, no doubt. + + (_A pause._) + +How thickly fall the leaves!.... + + (_She removes some dead leaves from her work._) + +Moreover, what could prevent his coming? + + A SISTER (_from the porch_). + +Monsieur de Bergerac. + + + _SCENE V._ + + ROXANE, CYRANO, _and, one moment_, SISTER MARTHA. + + ROXANE (_without turning around_). + +Why did I worry so? + + (_She works.--Enter Cyrano, very pale, with his hat well over his + eyes. Exit sister who announced him. He descends the steps slowly, + with a visible effort to remain erect, leaning heavily on his + stick._) + +For the first time in fourteen years, you are late! + + CYRANO (_who has gained his chair and seated + himself, speaks in a cheerful tone, in + contrast with his looks_). + +Yes, and, in truth, I boil with rage. I was delayed.... + + ROXANE. + +By what, by whom? + + CYRANO. + +By an intruder. + + ROXANE (_distraught_). + +Some bore? But you got rid of him, or her. + + CYRANO. + +Yes. "Excuse me," said I, "but this is Saturday, and I have a weekly +engagement that nothing can prevent me from keeping. Return an hour +hence!" + + ROXANE (_lightly_). + +The person shall wait. I'll keep you here until evening. + + CYRANO. + +I may be compelled to leave you sooner. + + (_He closes his eyes and remains silent a moment. Sister Martha + appears in the rear going to the Chapel. Roxane sees her, and + nods._) + + ROXANE (_to Cyrano_). + +How is it you do not tease Sister Martha to-day? + + CYRANO (_rapidly, opening his eyes_). + +Tease? Of course! + + (_with affected severity_). + + Sister Martha! Come here. + + (_Sister Martha goes up to him._) + +Ha! ha! Your eyes are too fine to remain thus forever down! + + SISTER MARTHA (_smiling_). + +But.... + + (_She notices his pale looks._) + +Oh! + + CYRANO (_aside, pointing to Roxane_) + +Hush! It's nothing. + + (_aloud, in boastful tone_). + + I ate meat yesterday! Friday! + + SISTER MARTHA. + +Yes, I know. + + (_aside_). That is the reason he looks so pale! + + (_to Cyrano rapidly and in a low tone_). Come to the refectory by + and by. I want to make you taste some broth..... Will you come? + + CYRANO. + +Yes, yes, yes. + + SISTER MARTHA. + +Oh! you are very reasonable to-day. + + ROXANE (_who notices their whispering_). + +Is she trying to convert you? + + SISTER MARTHA. + +Oh! nothing of the kind! + + CYRANO. + +It is a fact! You always have an abundance of saintly sermons, and +to-day, Sister, you are not preaching to me. + + (_with affected fury_). + +Swords and muskets! I, too, shall astonish you! See here, I will permit +you.... + + (_Affects to be thinking and to have found a good jest._) + +Ah! this is something new.... to.... to pray for me, to-night, in the +chapel. + + ROXANE. + +Oh! oh! this is serious. + + CYRANO (_laughing_). + +Sister Martha is dumfounded! + + SISTER MARTHA (_gently_). + +I did not wait for your permission. + + (_Exit Sister Martha._) + + CYRANO (_returning to Roxane, who is leaning over her work_). + +I verily believe there never will be an end to this task of yours. + + ROXANE. + +I am getting accustomed to this remark. + + (_Just then a few dead leaves fall on Roxane's work._) + + CYRANO. + + Oh! withered leaves! + + ROXANE (_looking at the landscape_). + + Poor blondes of Venice hue, + How fast they fall! + + CYRANO. + + They fall, but see how well! + Their race is short, and still they sweetly show + How beauty e'er recoils from rottenness: + For, as they drop, they do not in their grace + Appear to fall, but rather to alight! + + ROXANE. + +Unusually sad thoughts for you! + + CYRANO (_recovering his presence of mind_). + +Sad? Not at all, Roxane! + + ROXANE. + +Come, let the dead leaves fall as they will....Better give me the news, +be my weekly gazette. + + CYRANO. + +Agreed! + + ROXANE. + +I'm listening. + + CYRANO (_getting paler and paler, as he struggles + against pain_). + +Saturday, the 19th, having over indulged in grape-jam from Cette, the +King was taken with fever; his indisposition was sentenced, for high +treason, to be twice lanced, and the royal pulse was relieved of +febricity![25] At the Queen's ball, on Sunday, seven hundred and +sixty-three candles of white wax were burned. Our troops have been +victorious, it is said, over those of John the Austrian; four sorcerers +have been hung! the little dog of Madam d'Athis was given.... + + ROXANE. + +Monsieur de Bergerac, you may omit the details! + + CYRANO. + +Monday.... nothing. Oh! yes, Lygdamire took a new lover. + + ROXANE. + +Oh! + + CYRANO (_whose suffering is evidently increasing_). + +Tuesday, all the Court was at Fontainebleu. Wednesday, the beauty +Montglat said to Count de Fiesque: No! Thursday, Mancini, Queen of +France,--or almost! the 25th, Montglat said to Fiesque: Yes; and +Saturday, 26th.... + + (_His eyes close. His head falls upon his shoulder. Silence._) + + ROXANE (_surprised at hearing nothing more, + turns around, looks at him, and rises + very much frightened_). + +Has he fainted? + + (_Runs up to him._) Cyrano! + + CYRANO (_opening his eyes and speaking + somewhat indistinctly_). + +What is it?.... Who?.... When?.... + + (_He sees Roxane leaning over him, and, quickly securing his hat on + his head, backs up into his armchair._) + + No! no! I assure you, it is nothing. + I am quite myself again. + + ROXANE. + +But allow me.... + + CYRANO. + +It is the old wound I received at Arras.... that.... sometimes.... you +know.... + + ROXANE. + +Dearest friend! + + CYRANO. + +But, it is nothing serious. Soon over. + + (_makes an effort to smile_). + +Quite well again now. + + ROXANE (_standing near him_). + +We each of us have our wound: I, too, have one, ever smarting; I feel it +here, old though it be, + + (_placing her hand on her breast_) + + right here, + beneath the time-worn letter on which can still be seen the + trace of tears and blood! + + (_Dusk begins to come on._) + + CYRANO. + +His letter!.... Did you not say that some day, perhaps, you would allow +me to read it? + + ROXANE. + +What! you wish?.... his letter?.... + + CYRANO. + +Yes.... I wish.... to-day.... + + ROXANE. + + (_handing him the sachet she carries suspended to her neck_). + +Here it is! + + CYRANO (_taking it_). + +I may open? + + ROXANE. + +You may open and read!.... + + (_She returns to her work, folds it up and arranges her worsteds._) + + CYRANO (_reading_). + + "Roxane, farewell! The time...." + + ROXANE (_stopping, astonished_). + + You read aloud? + + CYRANO (_reading_). + + "Roxane, farewell! The time of death has come; + This eve, I think, belovèd, is my last. + My soul's still rich in unexpressèd love, + And I must die! My dazzled eyes no more, + My eyes for which you were...." + + ROXANE. + + Why! how you read + His lines!.... + + CYRANO (_continuing_). + + ".... for which you were a thrilling feast, + No more will drink your ev'ry motion, dear. + There's one that I recall, so truly yours, + To smooth your hair, and I would cry aloud...." + + ROXANE. + + How can you know?.... + + (_Darkness comes on by degrees._) + + CYRANO (_continuing_). + + "....And now I cry, indeed: + Farewell!...." + + ROXANE. + + You read as if.... + + CYRANO (_continuing_). + + ".... My dearest dear, + My treasure...." + + ROXANE. + + Oh! that voice! + + CYRANO (_continuing_). + + "My love!...." + + ROXANE. + + That voice! + That voice.... I know I heard it once before! + + (_She passes behind him, leans over the chair, without his noticing + her, and looks over the letter. Darkness increases._) + + CYRANO (_continuing_). + + "My yearning heart has never left you once. + And I am he, and Death will leave me he + Who loved you, dear, beyond all measure, he...." + + ROXANE (_placing her hand on his shoulder_). + +But how is it you still can read? Night has come. + + (_He shudders, turns, sees her near by, moves as if greatly + alarmed, and hangs his head. Long silence. It is quite dark. She + joins her hands, and speaks slowly:_) + +And during fourteen years you have played this part of an old friend who +comes to amuse! + + CYRANO. + +Roxane! + + ROXANE. + +It was you. + + CYRANO. + +No, no, Roxane, you mistake! + + ROXANE. + +I should have felt it each time you said my name! + + CYRANO. + +It was not I! + + ROXANE. + +It was! + + CYRANO. + +I swear to you.... + + ROXANE. + +Swear not, for now I understand your generous deceit. The letters were +yours.... + + CYRANO. + +No! + + ROXANE. + +The dear and tender words were yours.... + + CYRANO. + +No! + + ROXANE. + +That voice in the night was yours! + + CYRANO. + +I swear it was not! + + ROXANE. + +That soul was yours! + + CYRANO. + +I loved you not! + + ROXANE. + +You did! + + CYRANO. + +It was the other! + + ROXANE. + +You loved me! + + CYRANO. + +No! + + ROXANE. + +You did, for each of your denials is lower than the one before! + + CYRANO. + + No, no, my dearest, no, I loved you not! + + ROXANE. + + How many things are dead!.... how many born!.... + --Oh! through these years why were you silent thus, + Since on these lines, not his by word or thought, + The tears were yours? + + CYRANO. + + Because the blood is his! + + ROXANE. + + Why then allow a silence that's sublime + To break as now? + + CYRANO. + + Roxane, oh! why, indeed? + + (_Le Bret and Ragueneau enter on a run._) + + [25] Note.--Intentional affectation, like that of "his indisposition + was sentenced, for high treason." + + + _SCENE VI._ + + _The same_, LE BRET _and_ RAGUENEAU. + + LE BRET. + +How imprudent! I was sure of it! He is here! + + CYRANO (_smiling and straightening himself up_). + +Of course, I'm here! + + LE BRET. + +It is suicide, Madam, for him to have left his bed! + + ROXANE. + +Great God! But just now, then....this weakness?.... this fainting? + + CYRANO. + +Oh! by the way, I did not finish my weekly chronicle: ....and Saturday, +26th, one hour before dinner, Monsieur de Bergerac was assassinated in +the street. + + (_He takes off his hat, and his head is seen wrapped in bandages._) + + ROXANE. + +What did he say?--Cyrano!--his poor head!.... What have they done to +you? + + CYRANO. + + "And in my heart a sword's ennobling point!" + --So said I once!.... What mockery in fate!.... + And now I'm killed ignobly from behind, + O'erpowered by a lackey with a log. + I missed my life; my death's a failure too! + + RAGUENEAU. + +Oh! sir....Oh! sir.... + + CYRANO. + +Good Ragueneau, grieve not so!.... + + (_Extends his hand to him._) + + And what are you + doing now, my brother poet? + + RAGUENEAU (_through his tears_). + +I am the one who.... who snuffs the candles at Molière's.[26] + + CYRANO. + +Molière! + + RAGUENEAU. + +But I shall leave him to-morrow. For I am indignant!.... Yesterday he +gave _Scapin_, and I saw that he had taken from you a whole scene! + + LE BRET. + +Entire? + + RAGUENEAU. + +Yes, sir; the famous: "What the deuce was he doing?...." + + LE BRET (_to Cyrano_). + +Molière has robbed you! + + CYRANO. + +Hush! hush! he did well!.... + + (_to Ragueneau_). + + The scene was very effective, was it not? + + RAGUENEAU (_sobbing_). + +Oh! sir, what a laugh! what a laugh! through the whole audience! + + CYRANO. + + My life, you see, is all in this: I've been + The one who prompts--and ever is forgot! + + (_to Roxane_). + + Do you recall the night when Christian spoke + His love for you--beneath your balcony? + The words were mine, and mine the fondest thoughts; + But I remained below, unknown, in darkness, while + Another went aloft to gather light and love! + 'Tis justice, and my dying breath approves; + Molière has genius, Christian's beauty won. + + (_The chapel bell sounds. Sisters pass in the rear, going to + evening service._) + + It's time for prayer; the bell that tolls is right! + + ROXANE (_rising to call_). + + Come, Sister! + + CYRANO (_restraining her_). + + Leave me not to call for help! + On your return, you would not find me here. + + (_The sisters have entered the chapel, and the organ begins to + play._) + + I yearned for harmony; and now it's come! + + ROXANE. + + I love you, live! + + CYRANO. + + In fairy tales alone + Can love dispel the curse of homeliness. + You'd soon discover that I cannot change. + + ROXANE. + + You've suffered....and through me! + + CYRANO. + + Through you? Not so! + I never knew a woman's gentleness. + My mother found me homely. Sister, none; + And as to lady-loves, they would have laughed + At me. Through you, at least, I had a friend; + Through you I've known the spell a gown can bring! + + LE BRET (_showing the moonlight through the trees_). + + Another friend of yours is there! + + CYRANO (_smiling to the moon_). + + I see. + + ROXANE. + + I loved but one, and here I lose him twice! + + CYRANO. + + And now, Le Bret, I'll mount, and reach the moon, + Although I've not completed that machine.... + + LE BRET. + + Oh! speak not thus! + + CYRANO. + + Why not? 'Tis there, I say, + That I'll be sent to seek for paradise. + How many souls I love are there in bliss! + Good Socrates and Galileo too! + + LE BRET (_indignant_). + +No! no! this is too stupid, too unjust! Such a poet! A heart so big and +lofty! To die thus!.... To die!.... + + CYRANO. + +There is Le Bret growling again! + + LE BRET (_bursting into tears_). + +My dearest friend!.... + + CYRANO (_rising, with wildness in his eyes_). + +Fair Gascony's Cadets are they.... The elementary mass.... Why! +yes!....--There is the rub.... + + LE BRET. + +Alas! delirious! + + CYRANO. + +Copernicus said.... + + ROXANE. + +Dreadful! dreadful! + + CYRANO. + +What the deuce was he doing, what the deuce was he doing in that +galley?.... + + Philosopher and physicist, + A rimester, swordsman and musician, + A man who travelled in the air + As prompt with parry as reply, + A lover too--alas!--here lies + Sir Hercules, Savinian + De Cyrano de Bergerac, + Who compassed all and still was naught. + + But I must leave! I would not cause a wait. + Your pardon. See! the moon sends down for me! + + (_A ray of light from the moon is on him. He falls back into his + chair. The weeping of Roxane wakes him from his dreamy state. He + looks at her and strokes her veil._) + + I would not have you weep a wit the less + For Christian, who was all that's good and grand. + But, when the hand of ice has laid me low, + I would your weeds might have a double sense + Of mourning: first for him....and then for me! + + ROXANE. + + I swear to you.... + + CYRANO (_shaking with fever, rises suddenly_). + + No! never! In a chair! + + (_to those who advance to assist him_). + + No help!.... From anybody!.... + + (_leaning back against the tree_). + + .... But the tree! + + (_Silence._) + + It[27] comes!--I have already marble boots.... + And gloves of lead!.... + + (_He straightens up._) + + What matters?--Since It's here, + I'll meet it standing and.... + + (_draws his sword_) + + ....with sword in hand! + + LE BRET. + + Cyrano! + + ROXANE (_overcome_). + + God! + + (_All fall back aghast._) + + CYRANO. + + Ha! ha! I think it looks.... + It dares to look--the flat face--at my nose! + + (_Brandishes his sword._) + + What say you?....That it's useless?....Don't I know? + But valiant hearts contend not for success! + It's nobler to defend a hopeless cause! + --Who are you all? I count a thousand....more! + I know you now: my enemies of old! + You're Falsehood!-- + + (_Strikes the open air with his sword._) + + Here!--Ha! ha! and Compromise, + And Prejudice, and Cowardice!.... + + (_He strikes._) + + Submit? + No, never! Ah! here's Imbecility!.... + I know that, in the end, I must succumb, + I dare you, though, and strike! and strike! and strike! + + (_Strikes right and left with his sword, and stops exhausted._) + + You take my all, the laurel and the rose!.... + Well, take them!.... But, in spite of you, there is + A something that I bear along with me + To sweep to-night with grandeur, as I pass, + The threshold and the gates of heaven's blue; + A something that's unsullied and is mine.... + Do what you will! + + (_Rushes forward, sword aloft._) + + It is.... + + (_Sword drops out of his hand. He staggers and falls into the arms + of Le Bret and Ragueneau._) + + ROXANE (_leaning over him and kissing his forehead_). + + It is?.... + + CYRANO (_opens his eyes, recognises her and smiles_). + + ....My plume![28] + + [26] Note.--An evident anachronism, since Molière did not open his + Paris theatre until three years later (1658). Given, however, the + deep knowledge of seventeenth century matters displayed + throughout this drama, the anachronism must be intentional, the + poet's object doubtless having been to embody the tradition + according to which the "Qu'allait-il faire dans cette galère?" of + Molière's "Fourberies de Scapin" (produced only in 1671) was + taken from Cyrano de Bergerac's "Le Pédant Joué." + + [27] Note.--"It" here is Death (feminine in French). The personifying + _he_ somewhat customary in English poetry, was set aside, and the + _neuter_ gender was intentionally preserved, because, being more + vague, it better represents the terror-striking _unknown_, and is + more expressive of Cyrano's daring _contempt_ and repulsion for a + loathsome _thing_. Cyrano, who put to flight one hundred men, + could not be expected to fear a person, much less a + personification. + + [28] Note.--See Introduction, Preface and Prefatory Triolets ("Le + Panache"). + + _CURTAIN._ + + [Illustration: _FIFTH ACT._] + + + + + Transcriber's Note + +Apparent printer's errors have been retained, unless stated below. + +Capitalization, accents and formatting markup have been normalized. +Please note that although ellipses as well as punctuation around +brackets appear inconsistent, these have been kept true to the text. + +Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). + +Illustration tags have been moved to the end of each Act. + +Page 139, "seige" changed to "siege". (That during this terrible siege +he shall never be cold!) + +Page 139, "CHRISTIAN" changed to "CYRANO". Other editions have Cyrano +speaking this line, and it only makes sense when it is spoken by him. +(CYRANO (_halting_).) + +Page 141 and 156, "Ventrebieu" has been retained. It is believed that +this may be a typo for "Ventrebleu", however, multiple volumes in both +French and English use the same term. + +Page 150, "Decartes" changed to "Descartes". (.... and I ... will read +Descartes.) + +Page 188, CYRANO's name appeared twice in a row without a second +character speaking in between. (Once before his line, "We'll give them a +salute!" and again before he said "Fire!") This redundancy was +corrected. + +Page 192, "vail" changed to "veil". (Roxane is seen in the rear; she is +in black, wearing the long veil of a widow.) + +Page 209, "Youé" changed to "Joué". (Given, however, the deep knowledge +of seventeenth century matters displayed throughout this drama, the +anachronism must be intentional, the poet's object doubtless having been +to embody the tradition according to which the "Qu'allait-il faire dans +cette galère?" of Molière's "Fourberies de Scapin" (produced only in +1671) was taken from Cyrano de Bergerac's "Le Pédant Joué.") + +Page 210, "genuis" changed to "genius". ('Tis justice, and my dying +breath approves; Molière has genius, Christian's beauty won.) + +Page 212, "ROXANE" changed to "LE BRET". Other editions have Le Bret +speaking this line, and as Cyrano has just addressed him, it makes +better sense. (LE BRET. Oh! speak not thus!) + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cyrano de Bergerac, by Edmond Rostand + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41949 *** |