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While traiisliitingCynmode B(M*gérac, I iv«* liad muineiits of fearing lest certain le of his (lualities should dispose against lu, at the start, Anglo-Saxon audiences, hired in a different ideal. I mean his )astfulness. I have hoped heartily that would not, making them less sensitive îdl tliere is of him beside. Indecnl, boast- has a sort of picturesf princes, shall out-live this powerful rhyme ? " [rano is so comprehensible ! To Cyrano world he lives in must be filled with [iking generous deeds and sounding gen- ius phrases. The world is slow in per- [ming the first, so he performs them nself . Then, the care of exalting them mot be left with the world, afflicted with [Iness as with slowness, so he talks about tn. I am sure Cyrano cares very little V ) Introduction. \^ tluit himself shoiild 1m» in <> CTascony Cadets, players, fiddlers, p.i.^ children, Spanish soldiers, spectators, cieiises, actresses, bourgeoises, nuns. ( • fl • vui ill CYRANO De BERGERAC i Cl %e g deci hirtl le wi CYRANO DE BERGERAC. ACT F1R8Ï. PLAY AT THE HOTEL DE BOURGOGNE. le great hall of the Hotel de Bourgogne, WJfO. A sort of te uni a-court arranged decorated for theatrical performances. ^}{e hall is a long rectangle, seen oh- q^cly, so that one side of it coiistitutes the kground, which runs from the position he front icing at the right, to the line, of ^urthest wing at the left, and forms an \le with the stage, irhich is equally seen niehj. his stage is furnished, on both sides, ig the wi)igs, icith benches. The drop- lain is composed of two tapestry hang- |, ichich can be draicn apart. Above larlequin cloak, the royal escutcheon, ul steps lead from the raised platform le stage into the house. On either side lese steps, lite nrftsicians' seats. A row mdles fills the office of footlights, vo galleries run along the side: the mmm Cyrano de Bergerac. lower one is dirided into ho.nes. No .srall the pit , ivhich is the stiKje proper. A\\ h((('l' of tJiepit, that is to sa/j. at the rid in the fro))t, a few seats raised like .sl\ one al)ore the other ; and, u)ider a stain u'h icJi leads to the npper seats, and of ni the lon'er end only is risible, a stand, da^ with sïndll candelabra, Jars full ofjloni Jhajons and (fiasses, dishes ] leaped i sn'eetmeats, etc. In the centre of the backgronnd, an the boji'-tier, tlie entrance to tlie tlnnf Utnje d(K)r which half opens to let in\ spectators. 0)i the panels of this d\ and in se re ra I corners, and above the svi 7ne(tt stand, red playbills announcih[i Clorihe. At the rise of the curtain, the h,ons nearly dark, and still empty, lite chni Hers are let down i)i tlie middle of thi' nntil time to liifht them. The andience, arrivinii gradually. ( aliers, burghers, lackeys, pages, thejUhli etc. A tumult of voices is heard beyond^ door : enter brusquely a Cavalier. Doorkeeper (running in after him). so fast ! Your fifteen pence ! Cyrano de Bergerac. ÎAVALIKR. T conie in M(lniissi()ii ircc î )<)()RKEKPKR. And ^\ liv ? AVALIKR. I belonjjj to the kind's liuht airy ! )()(^RKKEFKR (fo CinotJtPr CaVALIKR ir]i() cnfcrcd). You ? [kcoxd Cavai.ikr. I do not pay ! )()ORKKKPKR. But . . . IecondC^wamer. Tbelongto thcniou?^- ltair<'s ! (iRsT Cavalier (fo the Second». Tt does; |l)('<»in bet'oro two. The floor is emi^y. us liave a bout with toils. { Tit rj/ fence /V>/7.s* tJief/ hare bronijhf.) La('KEY (e)}fei'i)Hj). Pst ! . . Flaîi- 'HER Lackev {arrived a inoine}it he- Chanipag:ne ? . [RST Lac'KEY {faki)uj a park of ran Is his doublet and sJioicin(/ it to Second :ey). Cards. Dice. iSitst doir)i on, h)or.) Let us have a game. ccoND Lackey {sitting down Jikeirise). rascal, willingly! ^RST Lackey {taking from his pocket a candle wliich he lights and sticks on \Jloor). I ]irigged an eyeful of my ber's light ! IE OF THE Watch (to a flower-girl, who 5 ■■ Cyrano de Bergerac. cornes forward). It is pleasant gottj here before the lights. (Puts his (I round lier waist.) < ).\K OF thp: Fencers {taking a ttim Hit: (.)ne of the Gamblers. Clubs ! The Watchman (pursuing the girh kiss! The Flower-Girl {repulsing him). siiall be seen! The Watchman (draiving her into a corner). No, we shall not! A Man (sitting- down on the floor others who hare brought provisions.} coming early, you get a comfortable cli;ij to eat. A BuRdHER deading his fion). should be a good place, my boy. ]J stay here. One of the Gamblers. Ace wins ! A Man (taking a bottle from undfi cloak and sitting doicn). A proper tii loping Burgundy, {drinks) I say shj Uypo it in Burgundy House! The Burcjher (to his son). Mightj not suppose we had stumbled into liouse of evil fame ? (Points with hisl at the drunkard.) Guzzlers ! . . breaking guard one of the fencers ,j\ 6 Cyrano de Bergerac. Bniwlers ! . . . (He falls hetw<'*^n \gamblers.) Gamesters ! . . . [he Watchman {behind htm, ntill teo,s- theflower-(jirl). A kiss ! |iiK BUROHER (dragging his son precipi'- \hj away.) Bless my soul ! . . . And 'cflect that in this very house, my were given the plays of the great 'OU ! [E Youth. And those of the great leille ! hand ofPAGKH holding hands rush in, M'niing a farandole and singing.) iciES. Tra la la la la la la la ! . . . )()RKEEPER (.severely to the Pa(ies). now ! . . . you pages, you ! none of tricks ! tsT Page {n'ith wonnded dignity.) . . . this want of confidence . . . \(K)n as the doorkeeper Jias turned away^ \ly to the Second Page.) Have you a |g about you ? "OND PA(iE. With a fish-hook at the 1ST Page. We will sit up there and Uw wigs ! •iCKP(jcKET (surrounded by a number dividuals of dubious appearance.) \, now, my little hopefuls, and learn 7 Cyrano de Bergerac. your A B C's of trade. Being as vol not used to hooking . . . Second Page (shontimj to other V irho have alreadjj taken seats i)t the iiA (jallerij). Ho !.. . Did you bring pea-shooters ? Third PA(iE {from altore). Yes : ^ And pease ! . . . {shoots down a roll pease). The Youth (to his fattier.) WhatI wo going to see ? The BuRdHER. Clorise. The Youth. By whom ? The Burgher. By BaHhazar Ah, what a phiy it is !.. . (Goes to4 the back on Jus soil's arm. ) Pickpocket (to Ji is disciples). Vl ularly tlie canonical gentlemen's lace, you're to snip off carefully ! A Spectator (to another, point imj /on an upper seat). Look! On the first i of the Cid, I was perched up there ! Pickpocket {with pantomimic s\>{ tion of spiritimj awai/). Watches . The Burgher (cominij forward witli his son). The actors you are \ to see, my sou, are among the most trions . . . Pickpocket (with show of suhin\ 8 rac. ig as yu< other r Ui the ui\ u brii»^' , Yes : ru a colli Cyrano dc Bergerac. ItJi fiiiiive little tugs). Pocket-handker- licfs . . . 'iiK BrK(iHKR, Moiitfleury . . . ?(>MKBODY {shontiny front the upper gal- \y). Make liaste, and liglit the cliande- •s! 'hk Bl'ROHEK. Belleruse, TEpy, the lupré, Jodelet . . . Pa(JK iiu the pit). All Her •. ) AVha'*!*'*'^ the goody -si'l 1er UK Sweetmeat Vender (appeariug he- Upl the ntand). Ornnges . . . Milk . . . l)berry cordial . . . oitrou-wine . . . ith'izar lMtful)l)ul) at the door.) ((Joes /((iJalsetto Voice (outside). Make room, ijiiis! îles). leii's 1 lae< >;J|ne of the Lackeys (astonished). The K'///f/j. Delighted: . . . nov! JJKiKsT MARK N^»'^KsT Marquis {looking at those who ap- r in the hoxefi). There eonies the prési- tc Aubry ! WKETMEAT Vender. Oranges! ^îilk! UK Fiddlers {tuning). La . . la . . . UKiY (to ChfcISTIAn, iudicatiny the house rh is fitling). A good house! . . . HRisTiAN. Yes, crowded. IRST Marquis. The whole of fash- chandeli^ A/Vh' /" rhat diM fentlenm \( exm ghj di- te elega mi ^) tipsy y^i Shall ds (^^•>'•'| • • • ig at Ciii . eba) y hey give the names of the rvomen, as, hrilliantly attired, these enter tlie \i's. Exchange of botes and smiles.) EcoND Marquis. Mesdames de Gué- U'C . . . [i KJY. De Bois-Dauphin . . . II Cyrano de Beri^crac. First M.MJvris. Whom . . . time \\,i^ . . . \v(» 1ov,j their surnames! . . . Marquis, can }\ tell them off. all of them ? First Marquis. I can tell them oft, of them, Marquis! LiGNiÈRE (drawing Christian asi\ Dear fellow, I came in here to be of iisq you. The lady does not come. I rev to my vice ! 12 Cyrano de Bergerac. îiiinsTiAN (imploring). No! Noî . . . who turn into ditties Town and Court, by me : you will be able to tell me for )ni it is I am dying of love' fnK Leader of the Viouns (rapping \his desk with his bow). Gentlemen I {He raises his bow.) eetmeat Vender. Macaroons . . . ronade . . , riie fiddles begin playing.) iHRisTiAN. I fear ... oh, I fear to that she is fanciful and intricate ! I not speak to her, for I am of a simple The language written and spoken in days bewilders and baffles me. I am lin soldier . . . shy, to boot. — She is lys at the right, there, the end: the fty box. iiiNiÈkE (if/f^ show of leaving). I am [RiSTiAN {still attempting to detain Oh, no ! . . . Stay, I beseech you ! [(JNIÈRE. I cannot. D'Assoucy is ex- jiiig me at the pot-house. Here is a bal drought ! ^EETMEAT VENDER (passing before him a tray). Orangeade ? . . . GNIÈRE. Ugh ! TEETMEAT VENDER. Milk ? • • • Cyrano de Bergerac. LioNiÈRK. Pah I . . . SwEETMKAT VENDER. Lacrinia ? . . LiGNiÈRE. stop ! (To CHRISTIAN), will tarry a bit. . . . J^et us see this crima ? {Situ down at the sweetmeat nkà The Vender p(>nr.s him a glass oflacri)i\ (Shouts among the andieiice at tin trance of a little, merrij-faced, ^'olf/-}^ man.) Audience. Ah, Ragueneau ! . . . Lkinière (to Christian). Ragueiit; who keeps the great cook-shop. Ragueneau (attired like a pastryaxM his Sunday best, coming quickly toiM Li(iNiÈRE). Monsieur, have you seen .MJ sieur de Cyi'ano ? LifiNiÈRE (presenting Ragueneau Christian). The pastrycook of poets of players ! Ra(}Ueneau (abashed). Too much b| or. . . . LiGNiÈRE. No modesty ! . . . Mom as !.. . RA(iUENEAU. It is true, those gentloi are among my customers. . . LiGNiÈRE. Debitors ! . . . A consij able poet himself. . . . Ragueneau. It has been said Î . . LiGNiÈRE. Daft on poetry ! . . . 14 ac. na ? . . ^ISTIAN). see this huent sta of lacriii > at tfu' d, rolii-i Cyrano de Bergerac. Ugueneau. It is true that for an .KiNiKRE. You are willing to give at y time a tart ! {.\({UENEAU. . . . let. A tart-let. iGNiiîRE. Kind soul, he tries to cheapen L'haritable acts ! And for a triolet were I not known to give ... ? AUUENEAU. Rolls. .lust rolls. KJNIÈRE {severely). Buttered ! - . , Raguen.||^j the play, you are fond of the play ? A(;UENEAU. It is with me a passion I KJNIÈRE. And you ettle for your en- ce fee with a pastry currency. Come , among ourselves, what did you have O^ive to-day for admittance here ? vciUENEAU. Four custards .... eigh- lady-fingers. (He looks all around). sieur de Cyrano is not here. I wonder t. KJNIÈRE. And why ? VGUENEAU. Montfleury is billed to pastrycook ckly ton ou seen Mj GUENEAl of poets i much li| . Moci se gentler! A consij lid Î . • KJNIÈRE. So it is, indeed. That ton of will to-day entrance us in the part of ïdo . . . Phœdo î . . . But what is to Cyrano ? AGUENEAU. Have you not heard ? He [rdieted Montfleury, whom he has taken IS Cyrano de Bergerac. •g in aversion, from appearing for one nior| upon the stage. LiGNiÈRE {ivho is at his fourth gJm Well? Ragueneau. Montileury is billed play. CuiGY {icho Jias drawn near with /i/.s'ro| panions). He cannot be prevented. EagueneaUo He cannot ? . o . Well,] am here to see ! First Marquis. What is tliis Cyrano CuiGY. A crack-brain ! bECOND Marquis. Of quality ? CuiGY. Enough for daily uses. Ih a cadet in the Guards. (Pointing o/ii gentleman icho is coming and going nU the pi t^ as if in search of somebody). his friend Le Bret can tell you. {CaJln\ Le Bret !.. c (Le Bret comes toin\ them). You are looking for Bergerac Le Bret. Yes. I am uneasy. CuiGY. Is it not a fact that he is a iij uncommon fellow ? Le Bret (affectionately). The most quisite being he is that walks beneath I moon ! Ragueneau. Poet ! CuiGY. Swordsman I Brissaille. Physicist ! i6 Cyrano de Bergerac. Le Bret. Musician ! LiGNiÈRE. And what an extraordinary [,s})ect he presents ! Kaciueneau. I will not go so far as to LV that I believe our grave Philippe do Jliampaigne w411 leave us a portrait of iiiu ; but, the bizarre, excessive, whimsi- il IVUow that he is would certainly have [irnished the late Jacques Callot with a pe of madcap fighter for one of his ^asfjues. Hat with triple feather, doublet ritli twice-triple skirt, cloak which his in- pninable rapier lifts up behind, with )iap, like the insolent tail of a cock ; rouder than all the Artabans of Gascony jgetlier, he goes about in his stiff Punchi- ^ilo rutf, airing a nose. . . . Ah, gentle- »n, what a nose is that ! One cannot )k upon such a specimen of the nasigera [thout exclaiming, "No! truly, the man laggerates," . . . After that, one smiles, le says 1 1 He will take it off/ But nsieur de Bergerac never takes it off at 1.K Bret (shaking his head). He wears always . . . and cuts down whoever îathes a syllable in conuuent. ' A(tUENEAU {proudly) . His blade is half shears of Fate ! 2 17 .-■iJ — ;il'Cjet3-! Cyrano de Bergerac. First Marquis {shrugging his shoulders), He will not come ! Ragueneau. He will. I wager you a chicken à la Ragueneau. | First Marquis {laughing). Very well] {Murmur of admiration in the honsâ RoxANE has appeared in her box. Shi takes a seat in the front, her duenna at tJi back. Christian, engaged in paying i}\ siceetmeat vender, does not look.) I Second Marquis {tdtering a series f| small squeals). Ah, gentlemen, but shei^'ceo horrifically enticing ! First Marquis. A strawberry set in peach, and smiling ! Second Marquis. So fresh,, that beiE near her, one might catch cold in ij heart ! ' Christian {looks up, sees Roxane, <(i\ agitated, seizes Lignière by the ayil That is she ! * Lignière {looking). Ah, that is she! . -f Christian. Yes. Tell me at once. . ^ Oh, I am afraid ! . . . LiciNiÈRE {sipping his wine sloirl4 Magdelene Robin, surnamed Roxaa Subtle. Euphuistic. I Christian. Alack-a-day! 1 LiGNÈiRE. Unmarried. ^\n orphan. 1 i8 I lOUS m ble hos\ ters sear Chk Lk;: inkir amc n SO] omt( ibe t : Jie })le th }] icli - en ri^e. bonfl iGNIiJ 'IGNIÈI WllO Cyrano de Bergerac. oiisin of Cyrano's . . . the one of wliom ey were talking. ( WJi He he is speaking^ a richly dressed obleuian, icearing the order of the Holy liost on a blue ribbon across his breast^ ters Roxane's box, and, without taking seat, talks ivith her a moment.) Christian {starting). That man ? . . . Lkjnière {icho is beginning to be tipsy, inking). Hé! Hé! Comte de Guiche. amored of her. But married to the ece of Armand de Richelieu. Wishes to nage a match between Roxane and cer- 11 sorry lord, one Monsieur de Valvert, omteand . . . easy. She does notsub- ibe to his views, but De Guiche is power- : he can persecute to some purpose a ])k^ commoner. But I have duly set ^, E#th liis shady machinations in a song // (d'nBr^^^^^ • * • Ho! he must bear me a grudge! :e end Avas wicked . . . Listen! . . . 'Mfe rises, staggering, and lifting his glass ^ ê^hont to sing.) HHisTiAN. No. Good-evening. iKiNiiORE. You are going ? . . . /HKisTiAN. To find Monsieur de Yal- loulder^i 3 *- ery well 'he /^oNs^l box. '^M una at th KUjing t'li ) i series r , but she:. •ry set in that bi't et s, seeinç, ) him.) rr to stay And I ail lie-bouses Second Marquis. These admirable rib- onsl What color, Comte de Guiche ? liould you call it Kiss-me-Sweet or . . . xpiring Fawn ? De Guiche. This shade is called Sick j)aniard. First Marquis. Appropriately called, r shortly, thanks to your valor, the paniard will be sick indeed, in Flanders ! De GuKîi e. I am going upon the stage. rcait of ^'' ||i'^ yo^ coming ? (He walks toivard the SNEAU, immage, folloived by all the marquises and lere. w^iofqualitij. Heturns and calls.) Val- rt, come! tune he hàJ|CHRisTiAN {who has been listening and pfcliing them, starts on hearing that J 'é^nie). The vicomte! . . . Ah, in his matching 1 %'(' ... in his face I will fling my . . . E'sboa^ " w' ./^''^'*>' '^^^ hand to his pocket and finds Qlfgeqvi'>vÊe pickpockefs hand. He turns.) Heini ICOMTE l|ÉFlCKP()C'KET. Aï! out him, l^fc'HHisTiAN (?r/f/to?if letting him go). I 8 looking for a glove. nother GiipiCKPOCKET {2vith an abject smile). And found a hand. (In a different tone, the cold aM." nud rapid.) Let me go ... I will ds. Bfliew you a secret. our duty Christian (without releasing him). In h )\\ ? 21 .:: ' ■: ' , - Ttf ■^tiag Ej ' gaB aiat n Cyrano dc Bergerac. Pickpocket. Lignière who has just lef*: you . . . Christian (as above). Yes ? . . . Pickpocket. Has not an hour to liv^ A song he made annoyed one of tli. great, and a hundred men — I am one (i them — will be posted to-night . . . Christian. A hundred ?.. By whonij Pickpocket. Honor . . . Christian {shrugging his sitouldcrK^ Oh! . . . Pickpocket {with great dignity) . Amon rogues ! Christian. Where will they be postedj Pickpocket. At the Porte de Nesle, his way home. Inform him. Christian {letting him go). But Avhe| can I find him ? Pickpocket. Go to all the taverns : \i Golden Vat, the Pine- Apple, the Belt m Bosom, the Twin Torches, the Three Fii| nels, and in each one leave a scrap writing warning him. Christian. Yes. I will run ! . . . Ali.tl blackguards ! A hundred against one ! . (Looks lovingly toward Roxane.) Leaf her! . . . {Fnrionsly, looking toward \ vert.) And him ! . . . But Lignière iiuj be prevented. {Exit rnnuing.) 22 rac. has just let: i? . hour to liv^l one of til -I am one '| t . . . . Bywhom| is s]ionlw we shall have to behave ! 23 ^^S^i Cyrano de Bergerac. {Knocking on the stage. Complete still- ness. Pause.) Voice of one of the Marquises ibredk-i ing the deep silence, behind the curtain. Snuff that candle ! Other Marquis {thrusting his head oh\\ between the curtains.) A chair! {Achuir% is passed from hand to hand, above f]u\ heads. The marquis takes it and disapj pears, after kissirig his hand repeatedlijj toward the boxes.) A Spectator. Silence ! {Once more, the three knocks. The c//rj tain opens. Tableau. The marquiseà seated at the sides, in attitudes of langum haughtiness. The stage-setting is thefainil colored bluish sort usual in a pastorali Four small crystal candelabra light th, stage. The violins play softly.) Le Bret {to Ragueneau, imder breath^ Is Montfleury the first to appear ? Eagueneau {likewise under breath) . YesJ The opening lines are his. Le Bret. Cyrano is not here. Ragueneau. I have lost my wager. Le Bret. Let us be thankful. Let iii! be thankful. {A bagpipe is heard. Montfleury cq)' pears upon the stage, enormous, in a com 24 Cyrano de Bergerac. lete still îs {break- curtain. tional shepherd's costume, with a rose- eathcd hat set jauntily on the side of his id, breathing into a be-ribboned bag- The Pit (applauding). Bravo, Mont- head ontWkury ! Montfleury ! (A c/ja/)BM()NTFLEURY (after boirmg, proceeds to // the part of YuŒDO) , ppy the man who, freed from Fashion's ckle sway, exile self-prescribed whiles peaceful ours away ; when Zephyrus sighs amid the an- wering trees. . . . Voice (from the middle of the pit)c s thefaintWÊëUQ ! Did I not forbid you for one pastoniMi^ ? light til' %( \msternation. Every one looks around, y^vmurs.) above ilti nd disdji- reiyeatedJi The cur- mar qui m of langnhl er breatli r ? ath) . Yos wager. il. Let 11^ ARious Voices. Hein f What ? What fl;|lie matter ? fany in the boxes rise to see). uiGY. It is he ! E Bret (alarmed). Cyrano ! HE Voice. King of the Obese ! Incon- ntly vanish ! . . . HE Whole Audience (indignant) 'LEURY (qi' in a ('o(i': LONTFLEURY. But. 25 Cyrano de Bergerac. The Voice. You stop to muse upon tj matter ? Several Voices {from the pit and boxes.) Hush! . . . Enough ! . . . P ceed, Montfleury. . . . Fear nothing ! Montfleury {171 an unsteady vow Happy the man who freed from Fashio| f . . . The Voice {more threatening than fore) . How is this ? Shall I be c(| strained, Man of the Monster Belly, to force my regulation . . . regularly ? {An arm holding a cane leaps above level of the heads.) Montfleury {in a voice growing fal)i\ and fainter). Happy the man. . . . {The cane is ivildly flourished.) The Voice. Leave the stage I The Pit. Oh !.. . Montfleury {choking.) Happy the man who freed . . . Cyrano {appears above the audiem standing upon a chair, his arms fol^ on his chest his hat at a combative ang^ his moustache on end, his nose terri^ ing). Ah ! I shall lose my temper ! {Sensation at sight of him). 26 Cyrano de Bergerac. I^IONTFLEURY {to the MARQUISES). Meri- îurs, I appeal to you ! )np: of the Marquises {languidly). But ahead ! . . . Play ! ICyrano. Fat man, if you attempt it, I 111 (lust the paint off you with this I [The Marquis. Enough ! ICyrano. Let every little lordling keep lence in his seat, or I will ruffle his rib- liis with my cane ! All the Marquises (rising). This is much ! . . . Montfleury. . . . l' Y rang. Let Montfleury go home, or ly, and, having cut his ears off, I will ^embowel him ! Voice. But . . . Jyrano. Let him go home, I said ! Other Voice. But after all . . . I'YRANO. It is not yet done? {With m' of turning up his sleeves. ) Very well, kon that stage, as on a platter trimmed ftli green, you shall see me carve that )unt of brawn. . . . ^loNTFLEURY {calling up his whole dig- Uf). Monsieur, you cast indignity, in Y person, upon the Muse ! Jyrano ( very civilly) . Monsieur, if that ly, with whom you have naught to do, the pleasure of beholding you . . , 27 Cyrano de Bergerac. just as you stand, there, like a décorât] pot ! . . . she could not live, I do in test, but she hurled her buskin at voi The Pit. Montfleury ! . . . Mo fleury ! . . . Give us Baro's piece ! Cyrano (to those shouting aronnd hit: I beg you will show some regard for \% scabbard : it is ready to give up the sworj {Tlie space around him widens.) The Crowd {backing away). Hey . softly, there ! Cyrano {to Montfleury). Go off ! ; The Crowd (closing again., and g in hling). Oh !.. . Oh ! Cyrano {turning suddenly). Has son body objections ? {The crowd again p\id4Jk^\\oi>> away from him.) A Voice (at the bach., singing.) Monsieur de Cyrano, one sees, Inclines to be tyrannical ; In spite of that tyrannicle We shall see La Clorise ! o nit tor roy. on letcos ! live 11 ni eijl ope i4n'' Î /îfroini •Ifve. The whole Audience {catching uj tune). La Clorise ! la Clorise ! Cyrano. Let m»' liear that song agiiilfii' ha and I will do you aii lo death with my st i< :i(îes ; A Burgher. Samson come back ! . ■led s Cyrano. Lend me your jaw, good niaU"ery 28 ac. Cyrano de Bergerac. a décorât' , I do y kin at yoi . . Mo iece ! voiuid ill I ard for i p the 8W(jrl .) Hey ., Lady {in otie of the boxes). This is «■ard of ! Man. It is scandalous ! BuRCiHER. It is irritating, to say no \\\(iK. What fun it is ! IK Pit. Ksss! . . . Montfleury! . . . alio! . . • VHANo. Be still! . . . HK Pit {in uproar). Hee-haw! . . . a.iah! . . . Bow-wow! . . . Cockadoo- Go off ! ilêdouoooo! and g I II jpVRANO. I will . . . Page. Meeeow ! Has son fCvRANO. I order you to hold your ïgfamp^/.s/icjigups! . . . I dare the floor collectively ofiitter another sound! ... I challenge r<«i. one and all! ... I will take down rofii- names . . . Step forward, budding i€f (K's ! Each in his turn. You shall be i^eii numbers. Come, which one of you «rijl (jpen the joust with me? You, mon- iejii- No! You? No! The first that offers king up /Mhomised all the mortuary honors due the e ! W ''• ^^^ ^^1 ^^^^^ wish to die hold up song agaiftr hands ! {Silence.) It is modesty that h my stici«es you shrink from the sight of my back ! . •♦^d sword? Not a name? Not a hand? , good nia|jery good . Then I proceed. ( Turning 29 ' sees, 'le ^mssmmmimmmKmmm Cyr;ni(> de Ikri^cnic. tiurnnf fhr stiKj»' tchrrr MoKV\n.K\'\{\\ icdifiiKj in trrror). Am I wmm HMyiii^'j is n\v wish to s{('hii)f)in(f his hinufs). Oin»! ,| l\!(>NTFl,K.rHY. I . . . A VoKM^: (from oik' of fhi' ho.rrs). not ^o' . . . Tjik Tit. Wo will stayl . . . TTo go! . . . MoNTKi-F.riîY. M(»ssi('urs, 1 tV(»l . Cyk.vno. Two! . . . MONTKI.KI UY. I iioo\ It wIll IXM'll.ip^ wiscM* . . . (^YKANO. Thivo! . . . (MoNTKLKUHY d isoppco rs, as if fhni a frap-tU or, Sforni of laughter, hi.^ cat rails.) TnKllorsK. lloo! . . . Hoo! . . . )I| sop ! . . . Oomo back ! . . . Cykano [bcainiiKj, Iraiis hack iii hisd 30 Cyrano de IWrt^criK. 'rr HvviiK»! IM'I'IT. Tliat iHriglit! . . . Well Haid! lîl'MVo! >|iKi,KT. Don't brnvo i»i<»! . . . Tlio ly Ir.'i^cdi.'ui, vvhoHo puinirli in your ;lil, iV!t sick ! . . . IK !Mt. ll(^ '\H a poltroon! . . . iDKi.iivr. ll(^ wjiH ol)lijj;(Ml to Icjivt» . . . IK Tit. L(^t him (U)ni(3 back! »1K. No! MIKUS. Y(?s! ... Youth {to Oyiiano). P>ui, v/hui all is inoiisicur, wliat ^ood gn»îin:iH hav(< lof hating MontiliMiry ? UANo (auhia}}}y^ sitfiinj an hf'forc). iig gosling, 1 have two, whoioof (»a.(di, iy, would be ample. Primo: He is an 31 i r Cyrano de Bergerac. execrable actor, who bellows, and \ grunts to disgrace a water-carrier laiiiK. the verse that should go forth as it pinions! . . . Secundo: is my secret. The Old Burgher {behind Cyha But without compunction you depriv of hearing La Clorise. I am <]ei mined . . . Cyrano {turniyig his chair around s to face the old gentleman ; respectfn Venerable mule, old Baro's verses h what they are, I do it without comin; tion, as you say. The Précieuses {in the boxes) . Ha : Ho! . . . Our own Baro! . . . Mv d did you hear that? How can such a ti be said? . . . Ha! . . . Ho! . . . Cyrano {turning his chair so as to] the boxes; gallantly). Beautiful creatii do you bloom and shine, be minister dreams, your smiles our anodyne. In^ poets, but poems . . . spare to judge,' Bellerose. But the money which i be given back at the door ! Cyrano {turning his chair to fao stage). Bellerose, you have said tlif intelligent thing that has, as yet, been s Var from me to wrong by so much fringe the worshipful mantle of Ti 1 ijj^ 32 t )RE. M .MM^ rac. Î, and V L'ier launc bh as it secret. d C\\i.\} u depriv am tie around so resjjectfiil verses V)i| ut conii) s). Ha: . . My d| such a ti| • • • so as f<> ful creatiil ministcH yne. In> to judge:! y which /' to fao] said tht' et, been s| o mucli itle oi' Tl Cyrano de Bergerac. , . {He rises and flings a bag upon ^- What you have . . is mad '■ ORE. Mor.xii'^.i'^v! . . . the eminent . . Whataoicindal! . Je Candale is his patron ! patron, you ? UNO. No! Bore. You have not tANO. No ! 33 But the . Have Cyrano de Bergerac. The Bore. What ? You are not! tected by some great nobleman uiKltj cover of whose name. . . . Cyrano {exasperated). No, I h{iv« you twice. Must I say the same thrice? No, I have no protector . . . on sword) but this will do. The Bore. Then, of course, yoi]| leave town. Cyrano. That will depend. 'j TE B'/iiE. But the Due de Candal] a ioik : < i*m . . . Cyrano. Not so long as minoj (pointing to his sword) pieced oiiti this! The Bore. But you cannot hav^ presumption . . . Cyrano. I can, yes. The Bore. But . . . Cyrano. And now, . . . face abci The Bore. But . . . Cyrano. Face about, I say j, else, tell me why you are looking aj nose. The Bore {bewildered). I . . Cyrano {advancing upon him), i m is it unusual? The BoRTi^ {backing). Your worsli mistaken 34 gerac. Cyrano de Bergerac. lu are noii man uikW No, I havj he same !ctor . . . mrse, yoii| nd. de CandalJ as mine J ieced out Innot havâ . face aboj I say looking ;ii I . . . him). Iii| our worsli ig rRANo (same business as above). Is it ly and pendulous, like a proboscis ? |e Bore. I never said . . . [RANO. Or hooked like a hawk's beak ? |E Bore. I . . . [rano. Do you discern a mole upon ip? |e Bore. But . . . [rano. Or is a fly disporting himself Ion ? What is there wonderful about K Bore. Oh . . . fRANO. Is it a freak of nature ? Bore. But I had refrained from so much as a glance at it ! |rano. And why, I pray, should you )ok at it ? b: Bore. I had . . . [RANO. So it disgusts you ? Bore. Sir . . . [rano. Its color strikes you as un- ^some ? E Bore. Sir. . . lANo. Its shape, unfortunate ? E Bore. But far from it ! [rano. Then wherefore that depre- igair? . . . Perhaps monsieur thinks [hade too large? Bore, Indeed not. No, indeed. 35 m Cyrano de Bergerac. I think it small . . . small, — I shouldj said, minute ! Cyrano. What? How? Char^^pi with such a ridiculous defect? Smallj nose? Ho ! . . The Bore. Heavens ! Cyrano. Enormous, my nose Contemptible stutterer, snub-nosed | flat-headed, be it known to you that proud, proud of such an appendage' much as a great nose is properly the of an affable, kindly, courteous man, \i Inderal, brave, such as I am! and 8ii(| you are for evermore precluded froinj poK in^^ yourself, deplorable rogue ! Fci inglorious surface my hand encoiij above your ruff, is no less devoid — {Si[ him). The Bore. Aï! aï! . . . Cyrano. Of pride, alacrity and ^i of perception and of gift, of heav spark, of sumptuousness, to sum up à nose, than that (turns him around l/| shoulders and suits the action to tJieni which stops my boot below your spiii^ The Bore {running off). Help! watch ! . . . Cyrano. Warning to the idle might find entertainment in my orgij 36 Cyrano de Bergerac. . . . And if the facetious fellow |l)irtb, my custom is, before I let him chasten him, in front, and higher up, jteel, and not with hide! jUiCHE (icho has stepped down from tage îvith the marquises). He is ling tiresome! .VERT {shrugging his shoulders). It )ty bluster! CtUICHE. Will no one take him LvKHT. No one ? . . . Wait ! I will )iie of those shots at him! (He ap- tes Cyrano who is watching him, and \n front of him, in ayi attitude of silly kr.) Your . . . your nose is . . . , Your nose ... is very large ! AND [gravely). Very. [.VERT (laughs). Ha! . . . iNo (imperturbable). Is that all? tVERT. But . . . AND. Ah, no, young man, that is lough! You might have said, dear iere are a thousand things . . . vary- ie tone . . . For instance . . . litre ■e: — Aggressive: "I, monsieur, if I icli a nose, nothing would serve but cut it off!" Amicable: ''It must rouv way while drinking ; you ought )7 Cyrano de Bergera»:. to have a special beaker made ! " Dei tive : '' It is a crag ! ... a peak ! . promontory! ... A promonotory, d say? . . . It is a peninsula ! " Inquisii! ' ' What may the office be of that ubj receptacle? Is it an inkhorn or a sc case?" Mincing: "Do you so dotj birds, you have, fond as a father, be( pains to fit the little darlings with a roJ Blunt: " Tell me, monsieur, you, when smoke, is it possible you blow the v through your nose without a neighborl ing '"The chimney is afire?" Anxil " Go with caution, I beseech, lest yourl dragged over by that weight, should you over!" Tender: "Have a littki shade made for it ! It might get f recklj Learned : ' ' None but the beast, mona mentioned by Aristophanes, the iij campelephantocamelos, can have \\ beneath his forehead so much cartilagi bone!" Off-hand: "What, comradf that sort of peg in style? Capital toj one's hat upon!" Emphatic: "No can hope, O lordly nose, to give the ^i of you a cold, but the Nor- Wester! '" matic : " It is the Red Sea when it bletj Admiring : ' ' W^hat a sign for a perfiia shop ! " Lyrical : ' ' Art thou a Tritoiij 38 i ri: Cyrano de Bergerac. it thy conch?" Simple: "A monu- When is admission free? " Deferent : for, monsieur, that I should pay you aspects: that is what I call possessing [-front on street'" Rustic: "Hi, Call that a nose? Yer don't fub It's either a prize carrot or else a ?d gourd I" Military: " Level against ivalry ! " Practical: " Will you put |for raffle ? Indubitablj^, sir, it will feature of the game ! " And finally trody of weeping Py ramus : ' ' Be- I behold the nose that traitorously de- îd the beauty ot its master ! and is Ing for the same ! " — That, my dear something not unlike, is what you have said to me, had you thesmall- iven of letters or of wit ; but of wit, O )itiable of objects made by God, you had a rudiment, and of letters, you just those that are needed to spell ' — But, had it been otherwise, and |ou been possessed of the fertile fancy ïite to shower upon me, here, in this company, that volley of sprightly tntries, still should you not have de- yourself of so much as a quarter of înth part of the beginning of the . For I let off these good things at 39 Cyrano de Bergerac. myself, and with sufficient zest, Ij not siiflfer another to let them off ai De Guichl (attempting to lead (iir\ amazed vicomte). Let be, vicomte Valvert. That insufferable 1 bearing! ... A clodhopper witlioiiij without so much as gloves . . . \\ii| abroad without points . . . ori knots ! . . . Cyrano. My foppery is of tlic man. I do not trick myself out like in jay, but I am more particular, not so showy. I would not sally for any chance, not washed quite cleanl affront; my conscience foggy aboii eye, my honor crumpled, my nicety rimmed. I walk with all upon nn bished bright. I plume myself witt pendence and straightforwardness] not a handsome figure, it is my soul,| erect as in a brace. I go decked mj ploits in place of ribbon bows. I ta a point my wit like a moustache, my passage through the crowd true i ring like spurs ! Val\t]:rt. But, sir . . . Cyrano. I am without gloves | mighty matter ! I only had one le| very ancient pair, and even that 40 Cyrano de Bergerac. lur(.l<'n to nie ... I left it in somebody's 'alvkrt. Villain, clod-poll, flat-foot, ise (JÎ the earth ! Jyraxo (taking off his hat and hoiving \if the Vicomte had been hdroducing W//). Ah ? . , . And mine, Cyrano- fiiiicii-Hercule of Bergerac ! ALVKRT {exasperated). Buffoon! VRANO {giving a sudden cry^ as if seized (I cramp)» Aï! . . . Ialvert {ivho had started toivard the :, furuijig). What k. he saying now ? RANG {screicing his face as if in pain). lust have leave to stir ... it has a ip : It is bad for it to be kept still so LVERT. What is the matter ? 'RANG. My rapier prickles like a foot lLvert {draicing). So be it ! n^AXo. I shall give you a charming hurt ! kLVERT {contemptuous). A poet ! TKANo. Yes, a poet, . . . and to an extent, that while we fence, I hop ! extempore, compose you a le ! .VERT. A ballade ? 41 I II!' Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano. I fear you do not know vj that is. Valvert. But . . . Cyrano (ds if scij/iug a lesson) . The! lade is composed of three stanzas ot t lines each. . . Valvert (stamps with his feet) . Oh .' Cyrano (continiiing). And an env( four. Valvert. You . . . Cyrano. I will with the same lir^ fight you and compose one. And ati last line, I will hit you. Valvert. Indeed you will not ! Cyrano. Not ? . . . (Declaiming). Ballade of the duel which in Bur House Monsieur de Bergerac fought with a jj anapes. Valvert. And what is that, if please ? Cyrano. That is the title. The Audience {at the highest jv'fd excitement). Make room ! . . . (i sport ! . . . Stand aside ! . . . still ! . . . (Tableau. A ring, in the pit, of tJu\ terested ; the Marquises and Officersj tered among the Burghers and Qo\ 42 Cyrano de Bergerac. H). Th.' iizas ot: ill >et). Oh: d au envo same V»rf| And at] Il not! in Bur^"-! t with (\ i\ that, if pit. of m OFFICERsf and Col ipLE. The Pages have climbed o)i the ihlers of varions ones, the better to see, \ih(' women are standiïtg in the boxes, ihe riffht, De Guiche and his attendant ylemeit. At the left. Le Bret, Ra- }îp:au, Cuigy, etc.) " ' \o (closing his eyes a second) . Wait. ...ttling upon the rhymes. There. I them. (In declaiming, he suits the )i to the ivord.) )i my broad felt made Hghter^ cast my mantle broad, .nd stand, poet and fighter, 10 do and to record, bow, I draw my sword. . . t^arde ! with steel and wit V you at first abord . . . 11 cue last line, I hit ! ley begin fencing.) 'ou should have been politer; Vhere had you best be gored ? ■he left side or the right ah ? h next your azure cord ? )r Avhere the spleen is stored ? )r in the stomach pit ? 3ome we to quick accord . . , it the last line, I hit I 43 "mmm Cyrano de Bergerac. You falter, you turn whiter ? You do so to afford Your foe a rhyme in ' ' iter " ? You thrust at me — I ward — And balance is restored. Laridon ! Look to your spit ! No, you shall not be floored Before my cue to hit ! (He announces solemnly.) : r 1 ENVOI. Prince, call upon the Lord ! . . I skirmish . . . feint a bit . . , I lunge ! ... I keep my word {The ViscoMTE staggers ; Cyrano At the last line, I hit ! ( i' hu {Acclamations. Applause from tlo Flowers and handkerchiefs are tJim The Ofb^icers snrround and congrof" Cyrano. Ragueneau dances ivith rJ>'H Le Bret is tear f idly joyous and at tJic^ time highly troahled. The friends 0| Viscomte support him off the stage. The Crowd (in a long shout). Ah ! . SJiii.KRo A Light-Cavalry Man. Superb î ' ^ ^^/ffpr A Woman. Sweet! Poulie Ragueneau Heaven-astounding! *^ the 44 i Cyrano de Bergerac. it ! . . L ! . . . t . . . word '. fUANO ''0 rire tJiré congro^ ivith (M'\ idatthp l'riendii o] istage. Marquis. Novel ! E Bret. Insensate î HK Crowd {pressing around Cyrano). gratulations ! . . , Well done! . . . ,vo! . . . Woman's Voice. He is a hero! Mousquetaire {striding swiftly to- d Cyrano, with outstretched hand). sieiir, will you allow me ? It was quite, excellently done, and I think I know roof I speak. But, as a fact, I ex- S(h1 my mind before, by making a noise. . . . (He retires.) RANo {to CuiGY). Who may the Icnian be ? I'iY. D'Artagnan. P)RKT (to Cyrano, talcing his arm). |e, 1 wish to talk with you. ^\N(). Wait till the crowd has ('n ofjiin\ The bagi tance, lu the reiti ing tbî^tl jure ! . . ( r\ rr. She Ir, to knoi Imy beavtl inting to the sweetmeat stand.) I have •call that is needed. . . . {impulsivehj)^ Ip yourself ! (RANG {tah'mg off h is hat) . Dear child , ite my Gascon pride, which forbids 1 should profit at your hand by the t iiiconsidercible of dainties, I fear too h lest a denial should' grieve you : I accept therefore . . . (He goes to the 1 and selects). Oh, a trifle ! ... A off this. . . (She proffers the bunch, akcs a single grape,) No . . . one ! glass of water . . . {She starts to pour into it, he stops her.) No . . . clear! half a macaroon. (He breaks in two acaroon, and returns half.) Brb]T. This comes near being silly ! EETMEAT VENDER. Oh, you wiU take thing more ! . . . RANo. Yes. Your hand to kiss. issrs the hand she holds out to him, as •('IT that of a 2w in cess.) ETMEAT Vender. Monsieur, I thank (Curtseys.) Good evening ! (Exit.) ANo (to Le Bret). I am listening. 'stahlisJies himself before the stand., he macaroon before him,) Dinner ! fite same tcith the glass of water), ! {and with the grape). Dessert ! 47 Cyrano de Bergerac. (He sits cloicn.) La ! l3t me begin ! I as hungry as a wolf ! (Eating.) Ti were saying ? Le Bret. That if you listen to none Ij those great boobies and swashbucklers \<\ judgment will become wholly pervert^ Inquire, will you, of the sensible, coiicti ing the effect produced to-day by vj prowesses. Cyrano (finishing his macaroon). li mous ! Le Bret. The cardinal . . . Cyrano (beaming). He was there, cardinal ? Le Bret. Must have found what did. . . . Cyrano. To a degree, original. Le Bret. Still . . . Cyrano. He is a poet. It canmi distasteful to him wholly that one slij deal confusion to a fellow-poet's play, Le Bret. But, seriously, you niakj manv enemies ! ft/ Cyrano (biting into the grape), many, thereabouts, should you tliii made to-night ? Le Bret. Eight and forty. Not tioning the women. Cyrano. Come, tell them over! 48 '1 H'il pi a tec tlie 18 gli Cyrano de Bergerac. ng.) ^ DO none ^3 .ckler^^yi perverti ►le, concj roon). ^ as there. I ginal. lat one slil )et's p^ay you maki grape), you tl\ï :ty. ^'0^ overl ,E Bret. Montfleury, the old merchant, Giiiche, the Vicomte, Baro, the whole ideniy . . . Jykano. Enough! You steep me in [e Brp:t. But whither will the road you )w lead you ? What can your object k'RANo. I was wandering aimlessly; lany roads were open . . . too many res, too complex, allowed of being I took . . . Bret. Which ? ■RANO. By far the simplest of them 1 decided to be, in every matter, al- 1, admirable! V) RET ish rugging his sho ulders) . That |do. — But tell me, will you not, the e— look, the true one ! — of your dis- Montfleury. ANo (rising). That old Silenus, who it seen his knees this many a year, lieves himself a delicate desperate \y to the fair. And as he struts and 1 the stage, makes sheep's-eyes 1 with his moist frog's-eyes. And I lated him . . . oh, properly! . . . he night he wan so daring as to is glance on her . . . her, who — 49 h Cyrano de Bergerac. Oh, I thought I saw a skig crawl overj flower ! Le Bret {amazed). Hey ? What it possible ? . . . Cyrano {icith a hitter laugh). Thail should love ? {In a different tone^ serionsi I love. Le Bret. And may one know ? You never told me. . . Cyrano. Whom I love ? . . . think a little. The dream of being boldH even by the beautiless, is made, to iin empty dream indeed by this good lii my forerunner ever by a quarter of an ] Hence, whom should I love ? ... It s superfluous to tell you ! ... I love it was inevitable ! . . . the most beaul that breathes ! Le Bret. The most beautiful ? Cyrano. No less, in the whole \y\ And the most resplendent, and tliei delicate of wit, and among the g love Cleopatra: do I resemble CaeK Dr worship Berenice : do I put you in iB are Titus ? »vxo. 52 Cyrano de Bergerac. ,E Bret. But your courage . . . and ir wit :— The little girl who but a mo- lt ago bestowed on you that very mod- Inieal, her eyes, you must have seen as i\\. did not exactly hate you ! K'RANO {impressed). That is true ! Ie Bret. You see ? So, then ! — But [ane herself, in following your duel, [t lily-pale. VHANO. Lily-pale ? . . . Bret. Her mind, her heart as well, jtruck with wonder ! Be bold, speak )\\ in order that she may . . . :^KANO. Laugh in my face ! . . . there is but one thing upon earth I . . It is that. [e Doorkeeper {admitting the Duenna rRANo). Monsieur, you are inquired AND {seeing the duenna). Ah, my . . her duenna ! Duenna {with a great curtsey). )ody wishes to know of her valor- )usin where one may, in private, see ANo {upset). See me ? Duenna {^trith curtsey). are things for your ear. ANo. There are ... ? 53 See you. wmm amm Cyrano de Bergerac. The Duenna {other curtsey), Thin^v Cyrano {staggering). Ah, my God ! . The Duenna. Somebody intends morrow, at the earliest roses of the dav : to hear Mass at Saint Roeh. Cyrano {upholds himself by leaning Le Bret). Ah, my God ! The Duenna. That over, where mij one step in a moment, have a little ta Cy!IANO {losing his semises). Where I . . . But . . . Ah, my God ! The Duenna. Expedition, if you plej Cyrano. I am casting about . . The Duenna. Where ? Cyrano. At ... at ... at EaJ neau's . . . the pastrycook's. The Duenna. He lodges ? Cyrano. In ... In Rue . . . AliJ God ! my God ! ... St. Honoré. The Duenna {retiring). We ^v! there. Do not fail. At seven. Cyrano. I will not fail. (Exit Duenna.) Cyrano (falling on Le Bret's nec^| me . . . from her ... a tryst ! Le Bret. Well, your gloom isi pelled ? Cyrano. Ah, to whatever end it| be, she is aware of my existence ! 54 Cyrano de Bergerac. Le Bret. And now you will be calm ? CvHANO {beside himself). Now, I shall fulininatiiig and frenetical ! I want an my all complete to put to rout ! I have lu\'xrts and twenty arms ... I cannot )\v be suited with foiling dwarfs to Irtli. . • . (Atthe top of his lungs.) Giants what I want ! [During the last lines, on the stage at back, shadowy shapes of jjlayers have n moving about. The rehearsal has inn ; the fiddlers have resumed their Voice {from the stage) . Hey ! Psst ! |er there ! A little lower. We are try- to rehearse ! /YRANO (laughing). We are going ! goes toward the back.) Iwoiigh the street door, enter Cuigy, kss AILLE, several Officers supporting piÈRE in a state of complete intoxica- •) LiGY. Cyrano ! ÎVRANO. What is this ? kKtY. a turdus vinaticus we are bring- lyou. 'RANG {recognizing him). Lignière ! ', what has happened to you? :KtY. He is looking for you. 55 Cyrano de Bergerac. Briss AILLE. He cannot go home. Cyrano. Why ? LiGNiÈRE {in a thicJc voice, showi}i lNother op the Actresses (jumping m the stage). Oh, I will not miss see- ;yran'o. Come ! iNOTiiiiR Actress (likeivise jumping im the stage, to an elderly actor). Cas- (dre, will you not come ? 57 Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano. Corne, ail of you ! the Doct Isabel, Leander, all ! and you shall 1»; charming fantastic swarm, an air Italian farce to the Spanish drama in vi^ Yes, you shall be a tinkling heard ahuv roar, like bells about a tambourine ! All THE Women {in great glee). Brai . . . Hurry ! ... A mantle ! ... A ho JoDELET. Let us go ! Cyrano (to the fiddlers). You will fa: us with a tune, messieurs the violinists (The fiddlers fall into the train, lighted candles ivhich furnished thff< lights are seized and distributed. The} cession becomes a torchlight procession Cyrano. Bravo ! Officers, beautv fancy dress, and, twenty steps ahead , {he takes the position he describes). I, myself, under the feather stuck, with own hand, by Glory, in my hat ! Pi as a Scipio trebly Nasica ! — It is iiiii stood ? Formal interdiction to inter: with me ! — We are ready ? One ! T Three ! Doorkeeper, open the door ! (The Doorkeeper opens ivide the f oh door. A picturesque corner of Old h appeal's, bathed in moonlight.) Cyrano. Ah ! . . . Paris floats in nocturnal mist. . . . The sloping blm S8 Cyrano de Bergerac. ¥'ou will f;\ ) violinists e train. ." shed tht'fi ted. TUpI orocession •s, beauty ps ahead cribes) . l uck, withi r hat ! Prj — It is u\i to interi One! Ti he door ! ide the fohi of Old P| \t.) 5 floats ini loping blui )fs are washed with moonlight. ... A bting, exquisite indeed, offers itself for the jne about to be enacted. . . . Yonder, ^(ler silvery vapor wreathes, like a mys- rioiis magic mirrur, glimmers the Seine. And you shall see what you shall see ! j.L. To the Porte de Nesle ! 'yrano {standing on the threshold) . To |e P(.>rte de Nesle! {Before crossing it, tiir}-?s to the Soubrette.) Were you not :ing, mademoiselle, why upon that soli- ry rhymster a hundred men were set ? e draws his sicord, and tranquilly) . Be- ise it was well known he is a friend of me ! (Exit.) [To the sound of the violins, by the flick- \i\(f light of the candles, the procession — GJNIÈRE staggering at the head, the Ac- JEssEs arm in arm ivith the Officers, the 'i/<')'s capering behind,— follows out into )iight. Curtain.) 59 ACT SECOND. THE COOKSHOP OF POETS. (Ragueneau's shop, i^ast kitchen atih, corner of Rue St. Honore and Rue VArbre-Sec, which can be seen at the bad( through the glass door, gray in the earl^ daicn. At the left, in front, a counter overhmi by a irrought-iron canopy from ?r///(j geese, ducks, icliite peacocks are Jiaiiginj In large china jars, tall nosegays compos^f '^ of the simpler floivers, mainly s unflo ire d^ On the same side, in the middle distance, fl| enormous fireplace, in front of ichich. tween huge andirons, each of which -s/d ports a small iron pot, roasting meats (ki\ into appropriate pans. To the right, door in the front wing. \l the middle distance, a staircase leadiuij a loft, the interior of which is seen throm^ open shutters ; a spread table lighted h\}\ small Flemish candelabrum, shows it to an eating-room. A îvooden gallery coij 60 Cyrano de Bergerac. ming the stairway, suggests other simi' rooms to which it may lead. In the center of the shop, an iron hoop — \ivJt ciin he lowered by means of a rope, — irltich large roasts are hooked. \)i tJie shadow, under the stairway, ovens (jloiring. Copper molds and saucepans shilling ; spits turning., hams swinging, U'u pyramids showing fair. It is the lij beginning of the workday. Bustling \iu' vied scullions, portly cooks and young :\'^assistants ; sicarming of caps dec- fed with hen feathers and guinea-fowl fs. Wicker crates and broad sheets of ire brought in loaded with brioches and M-rp are tables cornered irifh meats cakes: others, surrounded by chairs, \lf customers. In a corner, a smaller f. littered with papers. At the rise ic curtain. Raguenrau is discovered d (d this table, writing with an 'cd air, and counting upon his r.s\) 1ST Pastrycook {bringing in a tall ? >xi) Pastrycook (bringing in the dish Wcs). Custard ! 6i S-?SS!lt3E,"^'r»T* , fuoKS $pini(i Cyrano de Bergerac. Third Pastrycook {bringing in a / roasted in its feather's). Peacock ! Fourth Pastrycook (bringing in tray of cakes). Mince-pies ! Fifth Pastrycook {bringing in a ' earthen dish). Beef stew ! Ragueneau {layhrg doivn his pen, ||e;jsin looking up). Daybreak already jil ^c sp] with silver the copper pans ! Ti; Ragueneau, to smother within thee singing divinity ! The hour of the Ij will come anon — now is that of the ladP (He rises; speaking to one of the mi You, sir, be so good as to lengthen gravy, — it is too thick ! The Cook. How much ? Ragueneau. Three feet. {Goesfiirf\\ The Cook. What does he mean ? First Pastrycook. Let me have! tart ! Second Pastrycook. The dump! in.^ Racjueneau {standing before tli> place). Spread thy wings, Muse, .in further, that thy lovely eyes may n reddened at the sordid kitchen fire one of the cooks ^ pointing at sonic f loathes of bread.) You have im])rofj placed the cleft in those loaves caesura belongs in the middle, — betj 62 Cyrano de Bergerac. le hemstitches ! {To another of the louKs. pointing at an iinfiniHhed pantij.) lis |>astry palace requires a roof ! ( To a tiiiKj cook' s-apprent ice, who, .seated upo)i H'JI(>oi\ i>i putting fowls on a spit.) And )n. on tliat long spit, arrange, my son, in îiising alternation, the modest pullet and splendid turkey-cock, — even as our [so Malherbe alternated of old the greater [th the lesser lines, and so with roasted vis compose a poem ! .NOTHRR Apprentice {coming forward tJi a pkttter covered by a napkin). Mas- ^, in your honor, see what I have baked. I lutpe you are pleased with it! A(îUENEAU (ecstatic). A lyre! >iE Apprentice. Of nie-erust ! AGUENEAU (^touched). With candied lits ! [E Apprentice. And the strings, see, spun sugar ! UfiUENEAU {giving him money). Go, »k my health ! {Catching sight of hiHE |> is entering.) Hush ! My wife ! . . . re on, and hide that money. ( 7\) Lise, vi}}(f her tJ e lyre, 2vith a constrained I) F'ine, is it not ? ISE. Ridiculous ! {She sets a pile of \>pii(g-paper on the counter.) 63 Cyrano de Bergerac. | Ragueneau. Paper bags ? Gocl Thanks. (He examines them.) Heavin; My beloved books ! The masterpieces my friends, — dismembered, — torn : - ; fashion paper bags for penny pies !~A| the abominable case is re-enacted of (i pheus and the Maenads ! I Lise (drily). And have I not an m questionable right to make what uhc I m of the sole payment ever gotten from }(■ paltry scribblers of uneven lines ? M Eagueneau. Pismire ! Forbear tofl suit those divine, melodious crickets ! 3 Lise. Before frequenting that low cJj my friend, you did not use to call ml Maenad, — no, nor yet a pismire ! I Ragueneau. Put poems to suclB use ! I Lise. To that use and no other ! I Ragueneau. If with poems you ^lotH I should like to know, Madame, what H do with prose ! H (Two children have come into the ^//(fl Ragueneau. What can I do for.jH little ones ? H First Child. Three patties. Ragueneau (waiting on them), n you are ! Beautifully browned, and| ing hot. i 64 i Cyrano de Bergerac. ! Second Child. Please, will you wrap lein for us ? Ka< il KNEAU (starting, aside) . There goes |e of my bags ! {To the children.) You int them wrapped, do you ? ( He takes of f lie paper bags, and as he is about to \t in the patties, reads.) " No otherwise, jHses, from Penelope departing. ..." \t this one ! (He lays it aside and takes )ther. At the moment of putting in the Ities he reads.) ' ' Phœbiis of the aureate i. . . " Not that one ! (Same biisi- ) isE (out of patience). Well, what are waiting for ? uV(u:kneau. Here we are. Here we Here we are. (He takes a third bag \ resigns himself.) The sonnet to Phyl- ... It is hard, all the same. ÏSE. It is lucky you made up your Id. (Shrugging her shoidders.) Nico- ius ! (She climbs on a chair and ar- )es dishes on a sideboard.) KiUENEAU (taking advantage of her being turned, calls back the children \had already reached the door). Psst ! Children ! Give me back the sonnet lylhs, and you shall have six patties ^d of three! (The childreyi give back s 6s STS Cyrano de Bergerac. fûe paper-bag, joyfully take the patt\ and exeunt. Ragueneau smoothes out crumpled jjaper and reads declaiiniii ^' Phyllis \^' . . . Upon that charm name, a grease-spot ! . . . " Phyllis V\ {Enter brusquely Cyrano.) Cyrano. What time is it ? RA(aENEAU (boicing with eager éii ence). Six o'clock. Cyrano (ivith emotion). In an ho (He comes and goes in the shop.) Ragueneau (follow ing him) . Bravo too was witness. . . . Cyrano. Of what ? Ragueneau. Your fight. Cyrano. Which ? Ragueneau . At the Hotel de Bourgoi Cyrano (ivith disdain). Ah, the du Ragueneau {admiringly) . Yes, duel in rhyme. Lise. He can talk of nothing else. Cyrano. Let him! ... It doejj harm. Ragueneau {thrusting with a spit h seized). "Ait the last line, I hit I" the last line I hit ! " — How fine tlia: {MHth gî'owing enthusiasm.) " At th line, I — Cyrano. What time, Ragueneau ! 66 Cyrano de Bergerac. [Racjueneau {reinaining fixed in the atti- re of thrusting^ while he looks at the xk). Five minutes past six. — '' I hit ! " recovers from his duelling posture.) I, to be able to make a ballade ! jsE {to Cyrano, who in passing her un ter has dbsentmindedly shaken hands \th her). What ails your hand? ^'RANO. Nothing. A scratch. •a(jueneau. You have been exposed to ne danger ? h'RANO. None whatever. jIse (shaking her finger at him) . I fear it is a fib ! ;YRAN0. From the swelling of my 3e ? The fib in thai case must have been )dsized. . . {In a different tone.) I expecting some one. If our meeting )uld not be under the elm out there, |ve us alone in here. lA(}ueneau. But how can I contrive it? poets shortly will be here . . . jIse iiî'onically) . For breakfast ! /YRANO. When I sign to you, you will ir tlie place of them. — What time is it? [agueneau. It is ten minutes past six. /YRANO {seating himself nervously at îUENEAU's table and helping himself to )er). A pen? 67 Cyrano de Bergerac. Rauueneau {taking one from behind h ear, and offering it). A swan's quill. A Moust^UETAiRE (with euormous mon, tachios, enters ; in a stentorian vo'm. Good -morning! (Lise goes hurriedhj to hini^ toward i]\ back.) Cyrano (turning). What is it? Ragueneau. a friend of my wife's,^ a warrior, — terrible, from his own repo Cyrano (taking up the pen again, (/i| waving Ragueneau aivay). Chut! . (To himself.) Write to her, . . . fold letter, . , . hand it to her, . . . and m my escape. . . . (Throicing doicn the im Coward ! . . . . But may I perish if I ha the courage to speak to her, ... to savl single word. . . . (To Ragueneau.) \V! time is it ? i Ragueneau. A quarter past six. Cyrano (beating his breast). A sin word of all I carry here ! . . . Wliei in W' riting. . . (He takes up the pen agaii Come, let us write it then, in very d the love-letter I have written in thought many times, I have but to lay my soul side my paper, and copy ! (He u'rites.) (Beyond the glass-door^ shadoicy h 68 Cyrano de Bergerac. iiifffing shabby forms are seen moving, iter the poets, clad in black, ivifh haug- h()S(\ sadly iniidsplashed.) ILise [coniinQ foricard, to Ragueneau). îre tlioy come, your scarecrows ! [Fihst Poet {entering, to Ragueneau). folluT in art! . . . >F,coNi) Poet {shaking ftof/i, Ragueneau 's \)id^). Dear fellow-bard. . . . 'hird Poet. Eagle of pastrycooks, \iffs th e air) , your eyrie smells divine ! 'ouRTH Poet. Phœbus turned baker! "iFTH Poet. Apollo master-cook ! Lv(JUENEAU {sur rounded, embraced^ iken by the hand). How at his ease a m feels at once with them ! 'iRST Poet. The reason we are late, is crowd at the Porte de Nesle ! 5E(()ND Poet. Eight ugly ruffians, [ped open with the sword, lie weltering I the pavement. /YRAN0 {raising his head a second). jht ? I thought there were only seven. yes on with his letter.) Lvgueneau {to Cyrano). Do you hap- to know who is the hero of this mt ? h'RANO {negligently). I? . . . No. iiSE {to the Mousquetaire). Do you ? 69 f r Cyrano de Bergerac. The Mousquetaire {turning np the eu. of his moustache). Possibly ! Cyrano {tvriting ; from time to time h heard mur mur in g a IV ord or two ^) ... love you ... . '' First Poet. A single man, we w. "|^''l*^' told, put a whole gang to flight! Sec(jnd Poet. Oh, it was a rare si^li The ground was littered with pikes, a cudgels. . . Cyrano (itTiïmgf). . . ''''Your eyes. .^ Third Poet. Hats were strewn as f as the Goldsmiths' square ! First Poet. Sapristi ! He must 1 been a madman of mettle. . . . Cyrano (as above). "... your lips.. I First Poet. An infuriate giant, doer of that deed ! Cyrano (same business). " . . . !| when I see you, I come near to sivoonii ivith a tender dread . . ." Second Poet {snapping np a k What have you lately written, Ka neau Cyrano (same business). " . . . /^ loves you devotedly ..." {In the ad mgning the letter, he stops, rises, and in' it inside his doublet.) No need to sign I deliver it myself. ich h woa gcarc '.) IRST iiig a 11(1 ui ICI spwe iKC'ON IIRI) hetu he m lEC'ONI epas e fillt' \(;ue: , has ttitui CCOXD ). Is RST F is it ( 70 Cyrano de Bergerac. :A(}rENEAU (fo Second Poet). I have \ynm\ a recipe. 'nn{i> PoET {i'stablishing himndf beside frai; of cream i>*/#.s)- Let us hear this îil)o ! i"()URTH Poet {examining a brioche of \h'h he lias possessed himself) . It should wear its cap so saucily on one side . . . Iscareely looks well I . . {Bites off the V) 'iHST Poet. See, the spice-cake there, ling a susceptible poet with eyes of al- Ind under citron brows ! . . . {He takes i^pice cake.) IIkcond Poet. We are listening ! HiRi) Poet {slightly squeezing a cream ■ between his fingers) . This puff creams the mouth. . . . I water! [econd Poet {taking a bite out of the )e pastry lyre). For once the Lyre will ^e filled my stomach ! Uoueneau {who has made ready to re- |, has coughed^ adjusted his cap, struck ittitude). A recipe in rhyme ! EC (WD Poet {to First Poet, nudging V). Is it breakfast, with j^ou ? fiRST Poet {to Second Poet). And with is it dinner ? 71 Cyrano de Bergerac. L Ragueneau. Hoîv Almond Cheese- CaiAi. Ovraxo should be made. Briskly beat to lightness due, Eggs, a few ; With the eggs so beaten, beat — Nicely strained for this same use, — Lemon-juice, Adding milk of almonds, sweet. thein, '^ Kaiu'EX With fine pastry dough, rolled fiat, After that, Line each little scallopped mold ; Round the sides, light-fingered, spread Marmalade ; Pour the liquid eggy gold, Into each delicious pit ; Prison it In the oven, — and, bye and bye, Almond cheesecakes will in gay Blond array Bless your nostril and your eye ! The Poets {their mouths full). Exqii ite ! . . . Delicious! tlieia ou Id be a us from : b;iriiil(\ss ictod, at 1 have r fCVRAXO ( lou. . . . friends, tf'irhat .s orhnl ill *|)L-SQUETA i^i'd.rd Cyr. i% siege to ; iA^Eioffeni hdd in resp n^ eliaracte Cyrano. ,,„%iiglit youi isE (cJioki CVRAXO (bl One OF the Poets (c/^oArûiQf). Hunii)liç^j^ .. {They go toicard the bach, eaii i>e HQ Cyrano, u'ho has been watching theiii, « ftisE. But proac/ies Ragueneau.) fvRAxo {rii 72 I i-Ca;...k lat, spread; lunipli m fill tew, 0] Cyrano de Bergerac. ;; Cyrano. While you recite your works i) tlu'in, have you a notion how they atutï i KA(ii'ENKAU {loii\ li'ith a smile). Yes, I tlieni . . . without looking, lest they ould be abashed. I get a double pleasure us from saying my verses over : I satisfy a harmless weakness of w^hich I stand con- victed, at the same time as giving those who have not fed a needed chance to feed ! Cyrano {slapping liim on the slioulder). 11, ... I like you! (Ragueneau Jo/*/s frioids. Cyrano looks after him ; then^ it'irhfit sharply.) Hey, Lise ! (Lise, orltt'd ill tender conversation ivifh the USQUETAIRE, starts and comes forward yinl Cyrano.) Is that captain . . . lay- siejxe to you ? iT>Ku)ff ended). My eyes, sfr, i^ave ever (1 in respect those whc rieant hurt to character. . . . YHANo. For eyes so resolute ... I iij;ht yours looked a little languishing ! isE irJioking iritJi anger). But . . . YRANo {bluntly). I like your husband. • rcfore, Madame Lise, I say he shall I'c sc . . . horned ! ISK. But . . . YRANO {rising his I'oicesoasto be heard 73 Cyrano de Bcrecrac. Cyra hy the Mousc^uetaire). A word to th. wise! {He bows to the Mousquetaihi:, aw after looking at the clocks goes to the (h. ilRoXANE, 1] |(f.v,s' door, fol CVHANO [in Wt'lcoijio! (^ Jja^ianie, a wo The Duenna Cyrano. Ai HE Duenna. Ji! 'VRAXo (sna cininter). i « of Beuy^r^ra, HE DuE>;:^A. VKANO. W ted almond c 'heDuennaO at the back and stands in ivatch.) Lise {to the Mousquetaire, u-ho k simply returned Cyrano's bow). Keall ... I am astonished at you .... Def; him ... to hiti face! The Mousquetaire. To his face, indeod ... to liis face! . . . {He quickly iiia} off. J^mEfolloivs hi)n.] Cyrano (from the door at the had, signalling to Rac^ueneau that he shoe clear the room) . Pst ! . . . Ragueneau {urging the Poets tomu the door at the right). We shall be mm more comfortable in there. . . . Cyrano {impatiently). Pst! . . . Pst!. Ragueneau {driving along the Poets , want to read yon a little tiling of mine. First Poet {despairingly, his mouth Jn'^i^^^ it has whi But the provisions. . . . vVhaxo. gjx Second Poet. Shall not be parted ti "^^i a poem b us! théscvorsesof CI {They follow Racr^eneau in 2>>'oc^w/Ml^"i"t-<*ake, lig} after making a raid on the eatables.) Cyrano. If I feel that there is so mii as a glimmer of hope ... I will out wi my letter! ... | 74 VRANU. Do eate they cal Jhe Duenna. And do y 01 ■ • . fresh Î 'UK i>UENNA. ^'i^AXo {loadi Cyrano de Bergerac. l^)XANE, masked, appears behùid the a:a. Pooh! YRANo. Which I fill xor you with ted almond drops. HE Duenna (icitJi a different e^rjjression). Cyrano. Do you looli with favor upon the late they call a trifle ? f HE Duenna. I affect it out of measure, wien it has whipped cream inside. Cyrano. Six shall be yours, thrown in ,Y,fl|h ;i poem by Saint-Amant. x\nd in thèse verses of Chapelain I place this wedge ruit-cake, light by the side of them. . . . ! And do you like tarts . . . little jam , . . fresh ? IK Duenna. I dream of them at night ! yhano (loading her arms with cram- 75 Cyrano de Bergerac. med paper bags) . Do me the favor to ^ and eat these in the street. The Duenna. But . . . Cyrano { pushing her out) . And do ii come back till you have finished ! {He rk, up the door upon her^ comes forward t> war^d RoxANE, a7id stands, bareheaded, é respectfid distance.) Blessed forevoniii among all hours the hour in which, r membering that so lowly a being (;i draws breath, you were so gracious asj come to tell me ... to tell me ? . . . RoxANE {icho has removed her mai First of all, that I thank you. For ti" churl, that coxcomb yesterday, whoiny| taught manners with your sword, is!: one whom a great nobleman, who fane himself in love with me. . . . Cyrano. De Guiche ? RoxANE {dropping her eyes). Has ti to force upon me as a husband. Cyrano. Honorary? {Bowing. appears, then, that I fought, and I amgJ of it, not for my graceless nose, but yj thrice-beautiful eyes. yo^, j^^^.^^^. RoxANE. Further than that . . ^qj,^ ^./^^^^^ wished . . . But, before I can makeÉt,, ^. confession I have in mind to make, 1 niK^. j^^ . find in you once more the . . . hIiJbj^^j, . 76 vnnvd, Cyrano de Bergerac. ^■or tuj {Hi' ''/'>! 'icard ;| 'Cidedji' :everini yhicli. )ein^ ^ cious a- ■ kev ill'"- For ti. whom y l'ord. isi! vtio taiici Has tri \iving.) idiam? ie, but y at . . In make lake, 1 ml . . al biMllu'i', wiih wliom as a cliild I used to p];»v, in the i)ark — do you remember .' — by til'- lake ! f (viiANo. I have not forgotten. Yes . . . |ou caine every summer to Bergerae. V lioXANK. You used to fashion lanees out m. RHnlS. . . f Cyrano. Tlie silk of the tasselled eorn riiished hair for your doll . . . KoXANE. It was the time of lon^ delight- fttl gaines . . . Cyrano. Andsomewhat sour berries . . . dJoXANK. The time when you did every- ii'jr I bade vou ! ,'YRANO. Roxane, wearing short froeks, 5 known as Magdeleine. OXANE. Was I pretty in those days i YRANO. You were not ill-looking. OXANE. Sometimes, in your venture- iie climbings you used to hurt yourself. (II wonld come running to me, your hand ledinj;. And, playing at being your itnna, I would harden my voice and . . (She fakes his ha)t(l) ** Will .1 n<'ver keep out of mischief ? " ( SJie js short, amazed.) Oh, it is too nuich! <' you have done it again! (C'ykano .s fo draw back hi h hand.) No! Let look at it ! . . . Aren't you ashamed ? 77 ! ; i^szsaE Cyrano de Bergerac. . How did tli: near the I'ui: A great boy like you I . lKip|3en, and wliere ? Cyrano. Oh, fun . . (]«' Nesle. KoXANE (sittimj dowïi (it a table and dii jtiiKj her handkerchief info a glasti > wafvr). Let nie have it. Cyrano {sitting down too). So prettil so «dieeringly maternal! KoXANE. And tell me, while I wasli tl naughty blood away . . . with how iiia were you fighting ? Cyrano. Oh, not quite a hundred. KoxANE. Tell me about ii. I Cyrano. No. What does it matt^^ You tell me, you . . . what you were ^'c to tell me before, and did not dare . . Roxane {ivithont releasing hishand].^, do dare, now. I have breathed in couni with the perfume of the past. Oh, y now I dare. Here it is. There is soi one whom I love. Cyrano. Ah !.. . Oh, he does not know it. x\h! . . . As yet. . . . Ah : . . . ^ But if he does not know it^* t Roxane. Cyrano. Roxane. Cyrano. Roxane. soon will. 78 Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano. Ah ! . . . RoXANE. A poor boy who until \u<\v has loved me timidly, from a distjuico, 4 without daring to speak. . . . I ('VRANO. Ah ! . . . KoXANE. No, leave me your hand. Tt is hot, this Avill cool it. . . But I have rcjul his heart in his face. Cyrano. Ah ! . . . 1 M i T w'^shtli! 1 KoXANE (completing the bandaging of h in .., 1 ^«ri^iorl ilKdid with her nniall pocket-liandkereldvf). nth now nwu Aiul, cousin, is it not a strange coincidence —that he should serve exactly in your vginient ! Cyrano. Ah ! . . . Rox ANE {laughing) . Yes. He is a cadet, the same company ! erac. How did 111 lear the PonJ i table and dii ifo a gl(^^^ ' ')). So prettil:! w : a hundred. t .^. ç^oes it mai^ at you were goii not dare . ^ng his hand). athed in coura e past. Oh, yf There is son not know it. les s not know iti Cyrano. Ah! ... RoxANE. He bears plain on his forehead le stamp of wit, of genius! He is proud, )ble, young, brave, handsome. . . . Cyrano (rifiing. pale). Handsome! . . . iRoxANE. What . . . what is the mat- ICyrano. With me? . . . Nothing! . . . is ... it is .. . (Showing his hand, liiiny.) You know! ... It smarts a tie . . . loxANE. In short, T love him. I nuist 79 ia^^u À "'"' ' i Cyrano dc Bergerac. it'll you, however, that I have never sff! him save at the play. C'YFiANo. T\um you have never spol^ to caclî (►ther ? KoXANK,. Onlv with our eyes. C^'iîANo. But, then . . . how can vi know i . . , RoxANE. Oh, under the lindens of Plin Royale, people Avill talk. A trust wort!: gossip told me many things ! Cyrano. A cadet, did you say ? RoXANE. A cadet, in your companv Cyrano. His name ? [^^j, RoxANE. Baron Christian de Neuv j)„,)j], lette. ( i)t D'Urfé's heroes I Cyrano. If he had on proof as lioinely a wit as he has pretty hair ! R(tXANi:. No! No! . . .1 ean see at a initio glance, his utterances are fine, (tinted . . . Cyrano. Ah, yes! A man's utterances roinvariably like his moustache! . . . itill. if he icere a ninny ? . . . KoxANE {stamping with her foot). I ihould die, there! C*YRAN0 (after a time). You bade me |ome liere that you might tell me this ? I a reel y see the appropriateness, Madame. RoxANE. Ah, it was because someone lestorday let death into my soul by telling (■ that in your company you are all Gas- lis. . . . all! Cyrano. And that we pick a quarrel il h every impudent fledgling, not Gas- n. admitted by favor to our thorougli- ed Gascon ranks ? That is wdiat you anl ? A d/sapi^<'^BR<>XANE. Yes. and you can imagine how endure BWtraoted I am for him ! rho savor IJCyrano (in his teeth) . You well may be ! 6 8i u'ver str. -er s\H)k' \y can }^ ens of I'lii .rustwuvttf say ? comp'^^^y de Neml in the cade! inly is. ^i de Oasii Iquickly, >1 But my P'^ door «f . Ihavt^^^'l betry pi' :ii| Cyrano de Bergerac. I % RoXANE. But I thought, yosteiday when you towered ui», great and invineiMc giving his due to that miscreant, staiidii. your ground against those caitiffs, 1 thou;:!;; '' Were he but willing, he of whom all ,i in awe ..." Cyrano. Very well, I will protect yi little baron. RoxANE. Ah, you will . . . you \\ protect him for me ? ... I have alwii felt for you the tenderest regard ! Cyrano. Yes, yes. RoxANE. You will be his friend ? Cyrano. I will! RoxANE. And never shall he hav» fight a duel ? Cyrano. I swear it. RoxANE. Oh, I quite love you! ., Now I must go. (She hurriedly remu her mask^ throws a veil over her head ; mi dbsentmindedhj). But you have not yj told me about last night's encounter, must have been amazing ! . . . Tell him write to me. {She kisses her hand to }m I love you dearly ! Cyrano. Yes, yes. RoxANE. A hundred men against y^ . . . Well, adieu. We are fast friends, Cyrano. Yes, yes. 82 ini( Cy iMttC i ^^ if.s'.s'. ; (/""/• h I' II s <'Vf (Xil'ii)!. at fhe iiard <' oUi Care CVR. CakiJ tro! niy ( jC'VHA K'aRR( '1 kin K'st! Vra: CyniiK) de Bergerac. rotect y . y on \\ lîive alvv;i; •dî iend ] \ be hîiv you: \r head ; é^ lave not jl icounter Tell hinij and fo^ii'f igainst \ft 1st frieiul KnXANE. Tell 11 im to write me! ... A UTidnMl men! You shall tell me Jinother inic. I nuist not linger now . . . Ahun- 'ilntl men! What a heroic thing to do ! (vi^'ANo iboiriiKj). Oh, 1 have done Im Iter since! Krif UoXANE. C!yran() stands motion- jfs.s. sfariïKj at the grotutd. Silence. The uiir (it tlie right opens. liACiUENEAU ^h rust s ill II is head.) 1 { A ( . N KN E A r . May we come back ? ('\R.\y() iicithout moriïig). Yes. . . (|\A^/ '^ > «'x V w. y 5r wUs 1.0 l.l 1.25 ■' *« IIIIIM 136 lllll^ 4^ IIIIM llllim U IIIII.6 , V] <^ /i o C^l e. " . /# / / y /À Photographie Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N. Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 V ?v -^ .. 4^ \ \ 4\%u ^ X % v^ > I Cyrano de Bcrgenic. Cahmon de Castel-.Jaloux. Tlu'v in driiikinjiç across the way, at the Cn>s> it the Hilt. Cyrano. I . . . Carhon de Castel-.Taloux (got lit f fi> th- door coid slioiitiiuj fomird the sfrt^et rornti . in a sfcnforidn roicc). The hero refu>< s lie is not ill th(5 humor! A VoKîE (oKfsidc), Ah, s(t)idiJ CvraiK) de licrucrac loy HV (VlùvNo itiof knon'iiHj which KTs. Allî lÎAïa'KNEAr. zVrc tlicy truly ? I KiHsT Cadet. Our (M>ats of arms piicii |Up would dwindle in the clouds.' js| Lk 1)HKT (nttcritiy, vutnuiKj to (Vykano). 'luy are looking; for you! A erowd, gone jfhin'J '"*Bîii»^ coo ^'s/fOjiH^lnTc to find nie ^ . . . M'"B l^K P.HKT (rubhiiHj Jus Jifonls). T did, !/•<»)■ A HrH(JHKR ((')tt('ri)i(/, folhnred by a %'W^iiii})('V of othevH), Monsieur, the Marais asc onY idanny; \\\ a body o). llii' street outside tins filled with peoj>le. \\Yi\\Wk(l((ii-('lHiirs, coaches stop before the )o r.\ Cvit^'' H^'- l^»'^^^T (smiling, lowtoCYRX^O). And ).\;nic oil uig 'VRANO {qnicklt/). Be quiet! to vBTmk Crowd {outside.) Cyrano! .\ rubble bursts into the cookshoj). Con- ion. Shouting.) bin» ^A'-TENEAU {standing upon a table). My 85 Cyrano de Bergerac, 8hop is invaded ! They are brtvUviiu] everything! It is glorious! People {pressing roiitid Cyrano . M friend . . . my friend. . . . Cyrano. I had not so nianv friends yesterday ! Le Bret. This is success ! A YouNO Marquis {rmnuuij tiniw\ Cyrano, in'th outstretched hxnids): It y knew, my dear fellow . . . Cyrano. Dear ? . . . Fellow : . Where was it we stood sentinel toptlit- Other Marquis. I wisli to present m sir, to several ladies, who are outsiil- my coach. . . . Cyrano (coldly). But you. to ui", whom will you first be presented ? Le Brp:t (astonished). But what is matter with you ? Cyrano. Be still ! A Man op Letters (with tni i},kfi«'i Will you kindly favor me with tlie ih-l\ of . . . Cyrano. No. Le Bret (nudging him). That is T!j phrastus Renaudot, the inventor of gazette. Cyrano. Enough ! Le Bret. A sheet close packed wit! 86 J Cynino de Bergerac, bivakiiu \o\v '. • e outsiil' u to w ted? ijniis information ! It is an idea, they say, likely to take firm root and Nourish ! A VoKT {conu'iKjfonrard). Moi^sicur . . . CviiANo. Anotlierl TiiK 1*()KT. I am anxious to make a vvn- iicrostic on vour name. iMEHoDY Else (lik-fii-ise approaching YKAN Cyrano). Monsieur de Guiche' iinii Ill's. Erery one draws hack). He lies at the reijuest of the Marshal de ussion. M':(îrirHE (bowing to Cyrano). Who shes to expr*^ss his admiration for your ■st exploit, the fame of which has 'lied liim. HE Crowd. Bravo! YiiANo (bowing). The Marshal is quali- to judfije of courage. K Guiche. He would scarcely have eked ^v»^^ W^^ t»d the report, had these gentlemen 87 an îJ'/^''" Ith thi' *^^'' That rentor IS Tl Cyrano de Bergerac. not been able to h»wear they had seen tlic deed performed. CUKJY. With our own eyes I Lk Hret {low to Cyrano, who wntrs */„ ftftstracfed air). Hut . . . Cyrano. Be silent! Lk Bret. You ai)i)ear to be sutïd iii^' . . . Cyrano [Martin^, andstraiijhtenimj liim- self). Before tliese |)e<)i)le ? . . . > ///> inoiistdclK bristles : lie crpands his ch'st 1 . . . suffering? . . . You shall see: De Guiche {in. wliosc car Cl'KJY has hn', irhisperiiKj). But this is by no means tli. first gallant achievement marking ym;' career. You serve in the madcap Gasonn company, do you not ? Cyrano. In the cadets, yes. (^NE i)V THE Cadets {in a (jreaf r<»' • Among his countryuKMi! I)E (tUICHE {considering the Gascons, line behind Cyrx^so). All, lia Η All tlir g(Mitlenien then of the formidable asp. are the famous . . . Carbon de Castel- Jaloux. Cyrano' Cyrano. Captain ? . . . Carbon de Castel-Jaloux. My t"!! pn ?iy. I believe, is here in total. H< obliging as to present it to the Count. 88 CI ( i';iin i at-w 'ii'' r;i (-ul IV: If '-U <-\- ( CvriUK) de Hcr^crac. een th»' '('av< "/I ninil II «I» lis c/'''^' il see : Y luis '"' luetins 11 i\\) Gasi'-iii| leaf ro'V- t ASOONS, v] All tlu^ Cyra no My ''"'1 Ital/ l>'' Count. Cyhano (hikinifa nlcp toward L)E Gurhe, Luil pointing at the Cadets;. Thrv ar<' tlie (inseony Cadets 01 {'arl)i»n de Castel Jaloux; }<, lined lij;lilers, liars, (l<'spei'ates, Tlitv are tlie Gascoiiy Cadets! ^\1K bctler-honi than piekpockets, Talk coiieliaul, raiiii>ant, . . . pendent, t ( M ) : Tiny arc tiie Gaseony Cad( ts ()i Carlton de Castel-daluux! Cal -wlnskered, eyed like laleonets, W'lll'-toothed and li('r<»n-lej::ged, they hew Hi'' i'al>l>l(' down tliatsiiarlsand threats . . . it -whiskered. (\ved like falconets! Init ]M>ni]> of plume hides and offsets J(il(s in IJiose hats they wcai* askew . . . |t-\\liiskered, eyed like falconets, [lev drive the snarling inob, and hew! 1'' mildest of theii* so]>i'i(piets re('rack-iny-Ci'own and Kun-nie-throngh, (ail drunk on glory Gascon gets ! J(st' boasters of soft sobriquets [li('i'('V(^i' rapier rapiei* whets \i' met in punctual rendezvous. . . le miMest of their sohi'iquets p( 'laek-my-crown and Run-me-through ! 89 Cyrano de Bergerac. Tln'V are tho Gascoiiy CVulets Tli.it give the jealous spousf» his due! l^eau forth, adorable (MMjuettes, They are the Gaseony Cadets, With j)luiiies and s(?ai'fs and aigulets! Tli(j husband gray may well look blue Tlu'v are the Gascon v Cadets Tliat give the jealous spouse his due! Dk ('. icHK inonvhahmtly scati'd in (Ui (U'ltichdir which RAiii'ENEAU hxti^ 1mrri(' secured this morning near the Porte do Nosl<'! The hats of the fugitives! C.V\RHoN i>E Castel-Jaloux. Spoliœ opimœ ! I All ilanghinrf). Ha! Ha! Ha! . . . I CuKJY. The one who j)laTmed that mili- Unry action, my word! must be proud of it to-day! Rrissaille. Is it known who did it ? Dk GuirHE. I! — {The laughter sto])>i afiorf). They had instructions to chastise 91 i Cyrano de Bergerac. Il — M matter one does not attend tn ii, person, — a drunken scril>l)lei'. tCi,,, sfrainrd sih'ncc. ) Thk Cadkt {nn(lrrhrf'(tfli. f<>V\'R.\s*) in- (lient itKj the h(tts). AVliat can we do witi tliein { Tliev ,are oilv. . . . Make tlioii into a hotch pot ? Cyrano (t(tkiuf (tIUHk/s fret). Monsieur, it you sliouii care to return them t<) your friends ? . T)E GricHK irises, (uhJ />/ (t cnrt torn My eliair and beai'ers. at once. 7 Cyrano. rioIcnfÏ!/.) As for you. sir . A Voice (/// tJw street, shout iiKj), TliI cliairmen of Monseigneur the C»" once, t T i\i, sir ConUo il Have >«' Ihe namo . • • von iï^ tlte ha< the ^vilv thirteen. raiiv.is arms ])itches him down into Ûi< iiiiiil! ( M; \N<». Or up amoiif; tlie stars! (/.r/7 I)K (TncilE. He is .seen (j('f,'in(j id lux clidir. The (jcntU'uuni irithdvutr ffiJiisjirriiKj. Lk huKT (fof's to the door irifh ])ortunity becomes an exaggera- HANo. Yes. I agree. I do exagger- 93 Cyrano de Hcrj^crac. I ï Lk Brkt (fn'Hnii)hant). Voii sec. admit it !.. . Cyhan<>. lîiit for th(^ s.'»k<" nf |)iiii(ij,,| and of ('XMin|>hs as well, I think it a ; tiling to cxa^pTato as I do Î Lk P>kK/r. Could you hut. Icav»' aj, oiico iu a while, your UKUisiiuctair»- soul, fortune, luidouhtciily, fame. . C^'RANo. And what should ;i ni;in<,| Seek soino grandee, take him for patri and like the ohscurci creejHM' elaspin: tre(»-ti*unk, and lickinj; the hark <.t tj which i)roi)sit up. attain to height hyc instead of strengtii ? No, 1 thank vj Dedicate, as they all do, i)oems to lii eiei's ^. Wear motley in the huniltlc i, of soeinp: the lips of a minister distcinil one(» in a smile not ominous of ill ^ ,\| thank vou. Eat every day a toad threadbare at the belly with grovtlij Have his skin dirty soonest at the kiH Practice feats of dorsal elasticity '. )i thank you. With one hand stioke goat while with the other he watci-s] cabbage ? Make gifts of senn.a that co gifts of rhubarb may accrue, and iiil tigably swing his censer in sonic lie^ No, I thank you. Push himself froiiil lap,become a little great man in a great] 94 Cyrano de Ikrgcrac. loavo a] ii'taivf il a luan ' \ for \yM' bark "ÏU eight hyiT I thank y KMUS to ti'u hiiinhlc I or disU'U'i ofilH ^ a toad: itU grovel; {it th*' kii' tic'ity '. ' nd strok he watt'i"^ lathatct'U e, ami iii'l 1 son-u'lt*'' self froinl 1 in a great vie. in'op»'! Ills sliip ^vitll m.-uh-i^als for i-saiid in hissails tlu'siglis dl' the elderly j|(iirs.' No, 1 tliaiik you. (ict the gotxl ujiior Sci'cy to print his verses at ])i'oper jM use f No, I thank yoii. (N)iitriveto ' iiKiniii.ited l?op(,' in conclaves held hy ,.M'ii»'s ill wineshops ? No, 1 thank you. ,ik to consti'uct a name upon the hasis a sDiiiu't, instead of constructing^ other nets i No, 1 thank you. Disc»)ver lit in tyros, and in them alone '{ Stand terror of what gazettes may ])l(v»se to and say to himself ''At whatever may 1 ligure in the Paris Mercury !" 1 tha: "C you. Calculate, cringe, peak, (!• making a call to a poem. — petition, it, ajijjly ? No, I thank you ! No, T kyou ! No, I thank you ! l^ut . . . . . (lr<'ain, laugh, loaf, be single, be free, te eyes that look squarely, a voice with ;; wear, if he chooses, hishat hindside ; for a yes, for a no, fight a duel or turn itv! . . . Work, without concern of for- )r of ^lory, to accomplish the heart's- ed journey to the moon! Put forth iiig that has not its spring in the very , yet, modest, say to himself, "Old be satisfied with blossoms, fruits, yea, s alone, so they be gathered in your 95 Cyrano de Bergerac. garden and not anotlier man's ! " Tlun t it happen that to some small ext<'iit h^ triumph, be obliged to render of the j^ldiv to Caesar, not one jot, but honestly apinv l)riate it all. In siiort, seorning lu lu- li. parasite, the creeper, if even failing tn I. the oak, rise, not ])erchance to a mv;,. height, . . . but rise alone! Le Bret. Alone ? (lood ! but not against all ! How the devil did younj tract the mania that ])0ssesses you f, making enemies, always, every wheir . Cyrano. By seeing you make fiMriniJ and smile to those same flocks of fricij with a month that takes for mo<]{4 an j purse! I wisli not to be troubled to i»tii!: bows in the street, and I exclaiiu ' i glee "An enemy the morel " Le Bret. This is mental aberi'atiMi; Cyrano. I do not dispute it. I aii! framed. To displease is my ])]easuiv love that one should hate me. Deai- 1 iulI if you but knew how much Ix^ttcr a Avalks under the exciting fire of Imsi eves, and Iioav amused he may 1»('<' over the spots on his (h)ublet, s])att('iKi Envy and Cowardice! . . . You.tlidi friendship wherewith you suri-ound V' self, resembles those wide Italian coHj 96 Cyrano de Bergerac. M)S(' aiitl easy, \vith a perforated pattern, which the neck looks like a woman's. huy are more comfortable, but of less |i<,'h t'lfect; for the brow not held in prtnid ositioii by any constraint from them, falls iKKlding this way and that. . . . lint j)r me every day Hatred starcht^s and tîntes le niff wliose stiffness liolds the head well place. Every new enemy is anotht'r |ait ill it, adding compulsion, but adding, w<'ll. a ray: for, similar in evei-y point \\\v Si)anish rufï. Hatred is a bondage, |. . hut is a halo, tool h.K i)KKT (after a panse, slipping Jiis ai-ui iroKiih Cyrano's). To the liearing of all proud and bitter, . . . but to me, below Bath, say simply that slie does not love 111! ['YHANo (sharply). Not a word! |(CiiiMsTiAN has come i}i and niin places his finger upo}i hisnose.) You liavj imderstood ? C'Hristian. Ah, it is the ... Other Cadet. Silence! . . . Never mus vou so mucli as breathe that word, or . (He points tcnvard Cyrano at the back fall: ing with Le Bret.) You will have hiiij over there, to deal with ! Other Cadet {who while Christian m\ turned toward the first, has noisch'ssl^ seated himself on the table behind hiiii Two persons were lately cut ofï in theij 98 Cyrano de Bcrucrac iiri( le by him for talking through thtir noses II« thought it personal Othkr Cadet (. a ('((remous /v)/(v. r/.s he ri ties from under the table where lie hod slippcil (tn all fotrrs). Not tho remotest allusion, ever, to the latai cartilage. . . . unless you fancy an early grave! OTHKii Cadkt. a word will do the husi- iii'ss! What did I sa V? A word A simple gesture! Make use of your ;|i((('ket handkerchief, you will sliortly have I use for your lihroud ! (Silence. All arouïul Christian n-afeJi [him, ii'ith folded anns. He rises and (jocs l/o Carbon dk Castel-Jaloix, irho, incini- ivirsdfion with a)i officer, affects to notice \ii()tltiittuousli/ up anddowu). iVfonsieur^ Christian. What is the proper course for ;i man when he finds gentlemen of the ?( lilt h too boastful ? Carbon de Castel-Jaloix. He must )r(ive to them that one can be of the North. ^t't brave. (He turns his hack upon him.) Christian. I am much obliged. First Cadet (to Cyrano). And now. the iilo of your adventure ! 99 Cyrano de Bergerac. l'I All. Yes, yes, now let us hear Î Cyrano {coining forward anion.vil look with terror at Cyrano. He kl stopped short, amazed. Panse.) Cyhano. Who is that man ? One of the Cadets {low). He joint^| this morning. Cyrano {taki)ig a step toward Christian] This morning ? Carbon de Castel Jaloux {low). ]\i name is Baron de Nenvill .... Cyrano {stopping short). Ah, vrri well. . . . {He turns pale, then red, fiim evidence of another inipidse to throw hih\ self upon Christlxn.) I. . . . (He m lOO Cyrano de Bergerac Wt" qwrxif. (fiid s(tf/s iïiastijied voice.) Ywy lie taken ap Jiin tale.) As 1 w.js Isiyiii^ . . . {with a hnrnt of éuuje.) Mur- \dloiis'. . . . {He eontinnes in a natural L//f^) oue coiikl not see in tlie very least. [Consternât ion. AU resume their .swi^s, Ijtlai'inii at one another.) And I was walU- [iii^. along refieeting- that for a very in- as i)robably about to itic; I t rogue )tl('iid some great prince wlio would bear lie a lasting grudge, that, in brief, I was ihdUt to thrust my ... Christian. Nose . . . All (fet up. Christian ha.^ tilted hi.^ \hiih' and is rocking on the hind legs.) Cyrano (choking). Finger . . . between lilt' tree and the bark ; for the aforesaid prince might be of sufticient power to trip It' and throNv me . . . Christian. On my nose . . . Cyrano {wipes the sweat from hisltronw flit, said I, ''Gaseony forward! Never iltt'i' when duty prom^^ts! Forward, (\ laiK) ! "' and, saying this, I advance — lit'ii suddenly, in the darkness, I barely roid a blow . . . [Christian. Upon the nose . . . [Cyrano. I ward it. . . . and thereupon kI myself ... lOl Cyrano de Bergerac. % m Christian. Nose to nose . . . C'YRANo {Hpriiuj'nKj toward him). T' ». tre- Saint- Gris: . . . {AU the Gam uns rush forward, to see ; CvRANO, on r<'(frhi}ifj Christian, controls himself and prttrcnh . . . witli a hundred drunken br;n\i('r>, smelling . . . Christian. To the nose's limit . . . Cyrano {deathly j)ale, and snu'lin(/\ . of garlic and of grease. I leap forwaii head lowered . . . Christian. Nose to the wind ! . . . Cyrano. And I charge them. I knodj tvvoV)reathlessand run a third through ili' bodv. One lets off at me: Paf I and I i» tort ... Christian. Pif! Cryano [exploding). Death and dainiii tion ! Go, — all of you ! (All the Cadets make for the door.) First Cadet. The tiger is rouseU ;i:| hist ! Cyrano. All! and leave me with tlrj man. Sec:ond Cadet. Bigre ! When wo s^^i him again, it will be in the shape of niiine meat ! RAciUENEAU. Mince-meat ? . . . Other Cadet. In one of your pics. 102 Cyrano de Bergerac. ; with tlr.j .eu w*' ^'1 )e of niii^'-'- ur pies. RvciUENEAU. I fet4 mj'st'lf grow whito and ll;il)by as a tablo-napkiii ! CaHIîON de CASTEL-.rALOUX. Lot IIS OTHER Cadet. Not a smiulge of hiiu will bo left! Other Cadet. What tliese walls are ahout to behold gives me gooseflesh to think upon! Other Cadet {closiuif the door at the rillhf). Ghastly! . . . Ghastly! \All have left^ by the hack or the sides, a H'lr up the staincaj/. Cyrano and CifRis- JTIAX remain face to face, and look at each \oiii.'r<( )nonient.) Cyrano. Embrace me! Christian. Monsieur . . . Cyrano. Brave fellow. ('hhistian. But what does this . . . Cyrano. Very brave fellow\ I wish Cmi to. Christian. Will you tell me ? . . . Cyrano. Embrace me, T am her brother. Chimstian. Whose ? (%'RANO. Hers! Christian. What do j^ou mean ? Cyrano. Roxane's! i'mnsTix's {mmning to him). Heavens! i'<»u, her brother ? 103 Cynmo de Bcrgcriic. h \'^f: ' a- '1| Cyrano. Or the same tVilng: lier fii\t couKin. Christian. And she has . . . Cyrano, Told me everything! Christian. Does she love me ? . Cyrano. Perhaps! Christian (s'eizing his hands). Hnw happy I am. monsieur, to make ycMirar (juaintanee! . . . Cyrano. That is what I call a sikM.i sentiment ! Christian. Forgive me! . . . Cyrano [looking at him, îai/ingJiis Jutm upon his shoidder). It is true that he i«| handsome, the rascal ! Christian. If you but knew, Moiisit'ii:.| how greatly I admire you ! . . . Cyrano. But all those noses whkii you . . . Christian. I take them back! C'YRANO. Roxane expects a letter t/ nijj^ht . . . Christian. Alas! Cyrano. What is the matter ? Christian. I am lost if I cease to 1^ dumb ! Cyrano. How is that ? Christian. Alas! I am such a (\\\\\\ that I could kill myself for shame! 104 Cyrano de Bergerac. her lÎN I CYRANO. But, no . . . no. . . . You are suivly nota dunce, if you believe you are! Résides, you scarcely attacked nie like a IIIIKM'. Christian. Oh, it is easy to find words in iii(>uiiti!ig to the assault! Indeed, I own to :i certain cheap niihtary readiness, but wiicii I am before women, I have not a wdnl to say. . . . Yet their eyes, when I pass l)y. express a kindness toward me . . . CvHANo. And do their hearts not ex- jiivss the same wlien you stop beside them ? Christian. No! . . . for I am of those —1 recognize it, and am dismayed! — who do not know how to talk of love. Cyrano. Tiens! ... It seems to me tliat if Nature had taken more pains with my slmpe, I should have been of those who • know how to talk of it. Christian. Oh, to be able to express iliini^'s trracef ully ! Cyrano. Oh, to be a pjraceful little irure of a passing mousquetaire! Christian. Roxane is a précieuse, . . . ilif ic is no chance but that I shall be a isillusion to Roxane! Cyrano (looking at Christian) . If I had , h a duiii^i express my soul, such an interpre- ts). HhW ! v(Mir Hi • a sutldt'i! (J Jiis ha that he l« Monsieur, ►ses Nvbiiîi letter t/ ease to i ue . ,. I ?r: 105 Cyrano de Bergerac. 4 Christian (desperately) . I ought to li.i; . eloquence ! . . . OvRANo {ahriipthj). Eloquence T \\\'\ lend you! . . . And you, to nie, sliall lni,]! all-conquering physical cliaini . . . ai j between us we will compose a lien. ,;| romance ! Christian. What ? Cyrano. Should you he able to mv, as your own, things which I day by dav| would teach you ? Christian. You are suggesting ? . Cyrano. Roxane shall not have disi lusions! Tell me, shall we win her hoiid Ave two as one ? will you submit to ff+lj transmitted from my leather doublet ii your doublet stitched with silk, the soiil| wish to share ? Christian. But Cyrano ! . . . Cyrano. Cliristian, will you ? Christian. You frighten me ! Cyrano. Since you fear, left to yoiiivij to chill her heart, will you consent.— an soon it will take fire, I vouch for it to contribute your lips to my phrases '. Christian. Your eyes shine! . . . Cyrano. Will you ? CHRIST^\N. What, would it please y so much ? 1 06 Cyrano de Bergerac. to your>«ei! asent.— «w -h for it bra SOS '. please ( VKANo [U'itit rapture). It would . . . \l{('iiu'tnb('i'iutnw\ embraced.) One op the Cadets iopeinng the door'f verif little) . Nothing more. . . . The still ness of death. ... I dare not look {He thrusts in his head.) What is tiii^ All the Cadets {entering and s"/// Cyrano and Christian locked in >'iir others arms) . Ah ! . . . Oh ! . . . One of the Cadets. This passes bouii {Consternation) . The Mousquetaire {impudent). Onni^ Carbon de Castel- Jaloux. Ourdeiin is waxen mild as an apostle; smitten up one nostril, he turns the other also ! The Mousquetaire. It is in order no 1 08 ih. Cvniiu) de licruunic. ii'iU > t.. L' . . . 1 8iiie**iv ; mmI lu lit ieii wilh tosprak of his nose, is it i {CnUituj LisK, tilth (( sH'iKjycring (dr). lley, Lise ! iw.w lisU'ii and look. \Pointvdhj fon'ffitnj the nil'.) Oh, . . . oil, . . . it issurprisin;^-! . . . what an odor! {(jo'nuf to Cyrano.) Hut iiioiisicur must have snielled it, too < Can yoii tell me what it is, so plain in the air .' I'YKANo {heating hint). Why, sundi-y lilows ! uJ(>!/fi(J antics of thr Cadets i)i lu'lu^hlimj {'\'\i\so himself (f^uin. Curtain. 109 ACT THIRD. Ill !' koxane's kiss. A small square in the old Marain. OUI f(tHhione(l houses. Narrow streets seen in perspective. At the right, Koxane's honw and the wall of her garden, above which spreading tree-tops. Over the house-dooi\ a balcony and window. A bench beside the doorstep. The wall is overclambered by ivy. the balcony wreathed, with Jasmine. By means of the bench a)id project ina stones in the wall, the balcony can easihj be scaled. On the opposite side, old ho}fse in th same style of architecture, brick and stone. with entrance-door. The door-knocker h swaddled in linen. At the rise of the curtain, the Duenna is seated on the bench. The window (^n Roxane's balcony is wide open. Ragueneau, in a sort of livery, sfnnjU near the Duenna ; he is finishing the takoj\ his misfortunes, drying his eyes. no Cyrano de Bergerac. Ragueneau. And then, she eloped with ;i mousquetaire ! Ruined, forsaken, I was h.'Utging myself. I had already take-^. leave of earth, when Monsieur de Bergerac happening along, unhanged me, and pro- posed me to his cousin as her steward. . . The Duenna. But how did you fall into sucli disaster ? Ra(JUENEAu. Lise was fond of soldiers, 1. of poets ! Mars ate up all left over by Apollo. Under those circumstances, you .ouceive, the pantry soon was bare. The Duenna {rising and calling toward flic open window). Roxane, are you ivady ? . . . They are waiting for us !.. . Koxane's Voice {tJi rough the ivindow). I ain putting on my mantle ! The Duenna (to Umuje^eav, pointing at the door opposite). It is over there, op- losite, we are expected. At Cloinire's. Sh(^ liolds a meeting in her little place. A ilisqiiisition upon the Softer Sentiments is to be read. Ragueneau. Upon the Softer Senti ments ? The Duenna {coyly). Yes ! . . . {Call- iiKj toward the icindow.) Roxane, you must make haste, or we shall miss the dis- 'luisition upon the Softer Sentiments ! Ill Cyrano de Bergerac. I II Roxane's Voice. I am coming ! {A sound of string-instrimients is heani fl rawing iiearer. ) C'yrano's Voice {singing in the wi)i(jn\. La : la! la! la! la! .... The Duenna isnrjn'ised). We arc id have music ? Cyrano {enters followed by two Pa(jks with theorbos) . I tell you it is a demi-senii (juaver ! . . . you demi-semi-noddle ! First Page {ironically). Monsieur kii()\v< then about quavers, semi and demi ? Cyrano. I know music, as do all Gih sendi's disciples ! The Page {playing and singing), ha: la ! Cyrano (snatching the theorbo from Jiim and continuing the ni nsical phrase). 1 cni carry on the melody. . . . La, la, la, la. .. Roxane («ppea7v'>/f/ o?/ the balcoity). It is you ? Cyrano {singing upon the tniieJte is nui tinning). I, indeed, who salute ymi! lihes and present my respects to yoiiiB (i,.,..,j, ro-o-oses ! . . . RoxANE. I am coming down ! (N//- leaves the balcony.) The Duenna {pointing at the PA(ii> What is the menning of these two virtiuoi I 12 CviJ iniK'li S Cyrano de Bergerac. ro virtuosi I Cyrano. A wager I won, from D'As- 8()U''y. We were disputing upon a question of j^ranimar. Yes ! No ! Yes ! No ! Sud- dfiily pointing at these two tall knaves, exjicrt at clawing strings, by whom he (•(•nstantly goes attended, he said, "I wa^er a day long of music ! '' He lost. Until therefore the next rise of the sun, 1 sliall hav^e dangling after me these arch- lute players, harmonious witnesses of all 1 (It) : . . . At first I liked it very well, l)ut now it palls a little. {To the musi- ri((ii!^). Hey! . . . Go, from me, to Mont- tieury. and play him a pavane I . . . lïie I'AtiEs go toward the hack. To the Duenna.) I h;ive come to inquire of Roxane, as I (1(1 every evening. . . . (To f/ie Pages ?/7jo ni'v leaving.) Playing a long time . . . iind iuit of tune ! {To the Duenna). . . wlicther in the friend of her soul she can still detect no fault ? i\(>XANE (coming out of the honse). Ah, l.'tu' beautiful he is, what wit he has, how ilirj.ly I love him! iVRANO (H)ni]i}ig). Christian has so iiuicli wit ? . . . Cousin, more than vourself Î I grant you. There is not one alive, I truly "3 K<'XANE. Cyhano. UeXANE. S Cyrano de Bergerac. believe, more apt at turning those pn'tty nothings which yet are everything. . . Sometimes he is of an absent mood, liis muse is wool-gathering, then, suddenly. Ik- will say the most enchanting things! Cyrano {incredriUniH). Come! . . . RoxANE. Oh, it is too bad ! Men arc nil alike, narrow, narrow: becausehe ish.iiu! some, he cannot possibly be witty! Cyrano. So he talks of the heart in a< ceptable fashion ? RoxANE. Talks, cousin, is feeble. . . He dissertates! Cyrano. And writes ? . . . RoxANE. Still better! Listen now ti this . . . {DecJaimiiig.) '' TJtemore of inij heart t/ou steal from ^)ie the more Jiccui I hare!"' (Triumphantly to Cyranoi, Well? ... Cyrano. Pooh! RoXANE. And to this: " Since you h(ir^:\ stolen my heart, and since I tnust snffir to suffer with setul me your own ! " Cyrano. Now he has too much hoartl now he has not enough, . . . just wlifj does he want, in the matter of (Quantity ; RoxANE. You vex me! You are catnil up with jealousy. ... Cyrano (starting). Hein I IT4 Cynino de Bergerac. K<»XANE. Aiitlior's jealousy : Aiul tliis, colli»! anything be more ex(iuisitely tender ? • Vnnnimondjf, believe if, nnj he((ri o-ies uni f/ fE GuicHE {smiling}. You side with him ? K«»XANE. No . . . against him. IH] GuiCHE. Do you see much of him ? KoxANE. Very little. De Guiche. He is everywhere to be iiK t with one of the cadets . . . {trying to venuniber) that Neu . . . villen . . . vil- l<'r . . . ÏI7 Cyrano de Bergerac. ir RoXANE. A tall man ? De Guiche. ]^ight haired. RoxANE. Red haired. De Guiche. Good looking. RoxANE. Pooh ! De Guiche. But a fool ! RoxANE. He looks like one. {In a dif- ferent tone. ) Your vengeance upon Cy m ii< ) is then to place him within reach of sin it. which is tlie thing of all he loves! ... A miserable vengeance ! ... I know, 1 do, what would more seriously concern him : De Guiche. And that is ? RoxANE. Why . . . that the regiment should march, and leave him behind, \\ itii his beloved cadets, arms folded, the wlml.' war through, in Paris ! That is the only way to cast down a man like liim. Yni w4sh to punish him ? Deprive him ni danger. De Guiche. A woman ! A womui .' None but a woman could devise a viii geance of the sort ! Roxane. His friends will gnaw tli<'ir fists, and he his very soul, with chaj;riii at not being under fire ; and you will li' abundantly avenged ! De Guiche {coming nearer). Then you d ii love me a little ? ( Roxane .s^^/Zé'.s'.) Iwisli] ii8 Cyrano de Bergerac. II. see in tliis fact of your espousing my ^'iiidge a proof of affection, Roxane . , . RoXANE. . . . You may ! 1>K GUK'HK ish<)H-i}uj scrrral folded iKilicrs). I liave liere upon nie the orders lo 1)0 transmitted at once to each of the (•()inj)anies . . . except . . . {he fakes one from among the othern.) This one ! . . . ilic company of the cadets . . . (Hepfdsit in his jKK'kef.) This, I will keep. {LaugJi- iiitf). Ah, ah, ah ! Cyrano ! his belligerent hiiirior! . . . So you sometimes play tricks upon people, you ? . . . HoXANE. Sometimes. Dk Guiche {revji iiear her). I love you tn distraction ! This evening . . . listen, ... it is true that I must be gone. But In go when I feel that it is a matter for your caring ! Listen ! . . . There is, not tai" from here, in Rue Orléans, a convent Inuiided by the Capucins. Father Athan- isius. A layman may not enter. But the ^^ood fathers ... I fear no difficuilty with tli('m ! They will hide me up their sleeve . . their sleeve is wide. They are the Capucins that serve Richelieu at home. Fearing the uncle, they proportionately fear the nephew. I shall be thought to have left. I will come to you masked. 119 Cyrano de Bergerac. !f'' Let me delay by a single day, wayw.nd enchantress ! RoxANK. But if it should transpire . . . your fame . . . De Guic;he. Bah ! RoxANE. But . . . the siege . . . Ar ras . . . • De GuiCHE. Must wait! Allow nu-, i beg . . . RoxANE. No! De Guiohe. I beseech ! RoxANE (tenderly). No! Love itself bids me forbid you ! De Guiche. Ah ! RoxANE. You must go! (Aside.) Chi-is- tian will stay ! (Aloud.) For my sake, he heroic . . . Antony! De Guiche. Ah, heavenly word upon your lips! . . . Then you love tht* our who . . . Roxane. Who shall have made inc tremble for his sake . . . De Guiche (in a transport of Joy). Ali. Ï will go! (He kisses her hand.) Are ymi satisfied wûth me ? Roxane. My friend, I am. [Exit De Guiche). The Duenna {dropping a mocking cxrfesij toward his back). My friend, we are' 120 r(Mn! No curb! Iniprovisi'! Talk of love! Be magnificent! Cyrano (.siuilimj). Good. KoxANK. Hush! Cyrano. Hush! RoxANK. Not a word! (She (joes in dud closes the door.) Cyrano (bowing, ichen tJie door is closed). A thousand thanks! (The door opens again cnid Roxane IooLs out) . Roxane. He might prepare liis speeches . . . Cyrano. Ah, no! , . . the devil, no! Both {together). Hush I . . . ( Tlie door closes) . Cyrano (calling). Christian! {Enter Christian.) I know all that we need to. Now make ready yom* ïnemory. This is your chance to cover yourself with glory. Let us lose no time. Do not look sullen, like that. Quick! Let us go to your lodg- ings and I will rehearse you . . . Christian. No! 122 Cyrano de Bergerac. Il say : )rovi.s(.'! { /;/ (iinl closed). ^E looks e liis l, no! {Enter leed to. This is I glory, sullen, irlodg- Cykano. Wliat ? Christian. No. I will await Rox;»,nfî Cyrano. What !nsanil> j)ossc'sses you ^ ("((ino quickly and loarîi . . . Christian. No, Iteilynu! I am weary of l)orrowing my letters, my words . . . ol playing a part, and living in constant fear. ... It was very well at first, but iu»w 1 feel that she loves nu». I thank you heartily. I am no longer afraid. I will speak for myself . . . Cyrano. Ouais / . . . Christian. And what tells you that I shall not know how ? I am not sueh an utter blockhead, after all! You shall see! Your lessons have not been altogether wasted. I can shift to speak without your aid! And, that failing, by Heaven! I shall still know enough to take h^^r in my arms ! ( C V( tcli Ing s igJi t of R ( ) x a n Kir lot Is coming out from Clomires. ) She is cr>m- iug! Cyi'tmo, no, do not leave me ! . . . Cyrano (bowing to him). I will not meddle. Monsieur. \ He disap'pearH behind the gordo) wall). Roxane {coming from Clomire's Hon se (I- if II a number of people from whom she is taking leace. Curtseys and farewells.) 123 Cvrano de Bcrucrac. ii liarthénoidc ! . . . Alcandre ! . . . Gin'- mione ! . . . TnK Di'ENXA (comicallj/ desperate). We iiiissfMl tlio disquisition upon the Softei* SfMitiments ! {She goes info IIoxank's ft on se.) IvoxANP] {still taki}Hj leave of this one (oid fh((t). Uriniédonte ! . . . Good-bye ! (All how to RoXAXK, to one another, separate and go off by the various streets. KoxANE sees Christian.) RoXAXE. You are liere! (She goes to him.) Evening is closing round. . . . Wait! . . , They have all gone. . . . Tlie air is so mild. . . . Not a passer in sight. . . . Let us sit here. . . . Talk! . . . I will listen. C'UTISTIAN [sits beside her, on the bench. Sifenee.) I love you. RoxANE (elosing her eyefi). Yes. Talk to ine of love. Christian. I love you. RoxANE. Yes. That is the theme. Play variations upon it. Christian. I love ... RoXANE. Variations ! Christian. I love you so much . . . RoXANE. I do not doubt it. Wh.il further ? . . . Christian. And further ... I should 124 Cvrano de Bergerac. '). ^Ve Softer oxanf/s ono (iiK^ ye ! t)ioth(')\ streets. goes io ] Wait: » air is so . . . L<'t ill listen. le beneh. Talk 1 theme. Wliat ll shoul' . . 1 wish r to go ill). K)\V. Nu' Go ! . . . icene a mo- y' fVSUCCt'SS. n y self ii 1 t once . . . hovv.th'' lie spot . . . n'iu}. <^li. |/ /('()//// "'"'• windt»\v ! Cyrano. AU may be mended. But you i.u not deserve. . . . There ! stand there, iiiserable boy ! ... in front of the bal- ((II y ! I will stand under it and prompt vou V ' fiRISTIAN. But . . . C'YRANO. Do as I bid you! The Pages {reappear inij at the back, to CyraN'^). Hey! ''y»:anj Hush! {He signs to them to ho ,,■ fJ" ir voices.) Kiî i-n Page {in ah)wer voice). We have liiiislied serenading Montfleury ! (YHANO {lon\ qnickly). Go and stand (lilt of sight. One at this street corner, the other at that, and if any one comes near, pliiy ! . . . Second Page. What sort of tune, Mon- >i<'ur the Gassendist ? Oykano. ^'t r?y if it be a woman, mournful'' ic be ii man. {The pages dis- (ilipeav, jnt "» ^«(7/ street corner. To Christian.) Cnil »*er! ('iiRisTiAN. Roxane! Cyrano {picking tip pebbles and throw- inil them at thetcindow-pane). Wait! A |ttnv pebbles . . . Roxanf (opening the icindow). Who is I' fill ling m<; ? Cyrano de Bergerac. Christian. It is I . . . RoxANE. Wlio is ... I ? Christian. Christian! RoxANE {(lisdainfaUfj). Oh, you! Christian. 1 wish to speak with yuu. Cyrano {under the balcony, to Chris- tian). Speak low! . . . RoxANE. No, your conversation is too conn non Vo;j may go home! Christi, :•. In mercy! . . . RoxANE. xNo . . .you do not lovomo any more! Christian (?r7io»i Cyrano is j^t'onijifiui/). You accuse me . . . just Heaven! ul" lov- ing you no more. . . . when I can lov<' you no more! RoxANE {wJio iras about to close hev //'///- don\ stopping). Ah, that is a Httle better! Christian (satne business). To what a . . . size has Love grown in m>' . . . sigh-i'ocked soul which the . . . cruel clierub has chosen for liis cradle ! RoxANE (stej)j)iug nearer to the edgf of thebalcony). That is distinctly bettc^r! . . But, since he is so cruel, this Cupid, you were unwise not to smother him in bis cradle! Christian {same business). I tried to. but, Madame, the . . . attempt was futile. 128 Cyrano de Bergerac. Tliis . . . new-born Love is ... a little Hercules . . . KoXANE. Much, much better! Christian {same business). . . . Who foiiiul it merest baby-play to . . . strangle the serpents . . . twain, Pride and . . . Mistrust. RoXANE {leaning her eJboivs on the bal- (viiy-rail). Ah, tliat is very good indeed! . . . But why do you speak so slowly and stintedly ? Has your imagin- ation gout in its wings ? Cyrano {draicing Christian under the balcony., and taking his place). Hush! It is becoming too difficult ! RoxANE. To-night your words come falteringly. . . . Why is it ? Cyrano (talking low like Christian"). BtM'ause of the dark. They have to grope to find vour ear. RoxANE. Mv Avords do not find the same difficulty. Cyrano. They reach their point at on('(^ ? Of course they do ! That is because 1 catch them with my heart. My heart, you see, is very large, your ear particularly small. . . . Besides, your words drop . . . that goes quickly ; mine have to climb . . . and that takes longer ! 9 120 Cyrano de Bergerac. RoxANE. ïliey have been climbing liiore nimbly, however, in the last few minutes. Cyrano. They are becoming used to this gyjnnastic feat! RoXANE. It is true that I am ttilking Avith you from a very moimtaiu loj)! Cyrano. It is sure that a hard word dropped from such a height ui:)on my heart would shatter it ! RoXANE (îvith iJiP motion of leavhig). 1 will come down. Cyrano {qnicîdy). Do not! RoXANE {}H}intingat thebench at the foot of the balcouy}. Then do you get up on the seat! . . . Cyrano {dnt icing away in terror). Kol RoxANE. How do vou mean . . . no i Cyrano (ivith ever- increasing emotion). Let us profit a little by this chance of tnlk ing softly together without seeing eacli other . . . RoxANE. Without seeing each other? . . . Cyrano. Yes, to my mind, delectable! Each guesses at the other, and no more, You discern but the trailing blackness of a mantle, and I a dawn-grey glimmer which is a summer gown. I am a shadow merely, a pearly phantom are you ! You can 130 Cyrano de Bergerac. never kii<)w what these moments are to me ! If ever I was eloquent . . . RoXANE, You were ! C'VRANO. My words never till now surgekc!i as you are speaking ! . . . C^YRANo. Ah, if far from Cupid-dart» and quivers, we might seek a place et somewhat fresher things ! If instead et drinking, flat sip bj^ sip, from a chiselleil golden thimble, drops distilled and dulci fled, we might try the sensation of quench ing the thirst of our souls by stoopiii^Mn the level of the great river, and setting our lips to the stream ! RoxANE. But yet, wit . . . fancy . . delicate conceits. . . . Cyrano. I gave my fancy leave te frame conceits, before, to make you linger. . . . but now it would be an affront totliis bal m -breath ing night, to Nature and the hour, to talk like characters in a pastoral performed at Court ! . . . Let us give 132 Cvrano de Bergerac. ^.' Heaven leave, looking at us with all its larnest stars, to strip us of disguise and ,irtifi(,'e : 1 four. . . . oh, fear ! . . . k^st 111 our mistaken aleheniy sentiment sliould he subtilized to evaporation; lest tlie life (it tlie heart should waste in these empty pastimes, and the final refinement of the tine l)e the undoing of the refined ! KoxANE. But yet, wit, . . . aptness, . . . ingenuity . . . C-VRANO. I hate them in love ! Crimi- nal, when OT^e loves, to prolong over- much that paltry thrust and parry ! The laonient, however, eomes inevitably, — and I pity those for whom it never comes ! — in wliicli, we apprehending the noble dej^th of the lov<3 we harbor, a shallow word hurts us to utter ! RoXANE. If . . . if, then, that moment has come for us two, what words will you sav to me ? Cyrano. All those, all those, all those that come to me ! Not in formal nosegay (inler, ... I will throw them vou in a wild sheaf ! I love you, choke with love, I love you, dear. . . . My brain reels, I can hoar no more, it is too much. . . . Your name is in my heart the golden clapper in a bell ; and as I know no rest, Roxane, ^33 h*^ Cyrano de Bergerac. îilvvays the heart is shaken, and evei iill^^ your name ! . . . Of you, I remember all, all have I loved ! Last year, one day, the twelfth of May, in going out at morning you clianged tlie fashion of your hair. . . . 1 liave taken the light of your hair for luy light, and as having stared too long at the sun, on everything one sees a scarlet wheel, on everything when I come from my chosen light, my dazzled eye sets swim niing golden blots ! . . . KoxANE {in a voice lotsteady with emo- tion). Yes . . . this is love . . . Cyrano. Ah, verily! The feeling which invades me, terrible and jealous, is love . . . with all its mournful frenzv! It is love, yet self-forgetting more than the wont of love ! Ah, for your happiness now readily would I give mine, though you should never know it, might I but, froiii a distance, sometimes, hear the hap])y laughter bought by my sacrifice ! Every glance of yours breeds in me new strength. new valor! Are you beginning to undci- stand ? Tell me, do you grasp my love's measure ? Does some little part of my soul make itself felt of you there in the dark ness ? . . .Oh, what is happening to nie this evening is too sweet, too deeply dear ' 134 Cyrano de Bergcrac. î toll you all these things, and you listen to iiiP, you ! Not in my least modest hoping (lid I ever hope so much ! I have now only to die! It is because of words of mine that she is trembling among the dusky branches! For you are trembling, like a tlower among leaves! Yes, you tremble, . . for whether you will or no, I have felt the worshipped trembling of your hand all [dong this thrilled and blissful jasmin - hough ! {He madly kisses the end of a pen- dant bough.) KoXANE. Yes, I tremble . . . and wocp . . . and love you . . . and am yours! . . . For you have carried me away . . . away! . . . Cyrano. Then, let death come! I have moved you, I ! . . . There is but one thing iiKH'e I ask . . . CuTimTiA^ (under the bcdcony). A kiss! R(^XANE (draicing hastily back) . What ? Cyrano. Oh ! RoxANE. You ask ? . . . Cyrano. Yes . . . I . . . {To Chris- tian.) You are in too great haste! Christian. Since she is so moved, I must take advantage of it ! Cyrano {to Roxane;. I . . . Yes, it is true I asked . . . but, merciful heavens ! 135 î Cynino de Bergerac. ... I kiunv ni once that I hail been toi lu.ld. HoXANK {(is]t(i(I('< a lively^ and the other a Ingnhvions tnnc Cyrano. A dance ? ... A dirge ?.. What do they mean? Is it a man or ;i woman ? . . . Ah, it is a monk! {Entera Capucin Monk ?(7^o goes from house to house, with a lantern, craniiiiiinj the doors). Cyrano {to The Capucin). What aif you looking for, Diogenes ? 136 Cyrano du Bci\^crac. 1 bocii t(M Yuu iii- . without modesty . . . th.' }i(j (it ]tU cou y I'd il . If for liav ig'^ llusli, earfJ }>l(i!i oiul 1 . . . goes from examiu'iM Thk Capucin. T ani looking for tlio hiiusc of MîkIîuih» , . . CiiKisTiAN. Ho is in the way! TnK Capucin. Magdoleine Kobin . . . Cyrano ipoiutiug np one of the .strerfs). .'s wîiyl . . . Straight îihoad ... go straight ahead . . . Thk Capucin. I thank you. T will say ton Aves for your peae<\ (Kvif.) Cyrano. My good wislies sjR'od your (dui: (He comes forward foira ni Chris- tian.) Christian. Insist upon the kiss! . . . Cyrano. No, I will not ! Christian. Sooner or later . . . Cyrano. It is true ! It must come, the ..tinent of inebriation when your lips sliall imperiously be impelled toward each ttht'i", because the one is fledged with youthful gold and the other is so soft ;i pink! ... (To himself.) I had rather it should be because . . . (Sound of tJiewiu - (h)ir reopening ; Christian hides under the hah'ony.) RoXANE (stepping forward on the hdlvoufj). Are you there ? AVe were sjH'aking of ... of ... of a .. . Cyrano. Kiss. The word is sweet. Wliy does >our fair lip stop at it ? If the 137 Cyrano de Bergerac. mere vrord burns it, what will be of ihc thing itself ? Do not make it into a fear fill matter, and then fear ! Did you mt il moment ago insensibly leave playfuliu^s behind and slip without trepidation fiom ÎI smile to a sigh, from a sigh to a tear Slip but a little further in the same bloK'^cd direction : from a tear t(^ a kiss there n fccareely a dividing shiver ! RoxANE. 8ay no more ! Cyrano. A kiss ! When all is said. what is a kiss ? An oath of aliegianc- taken in closer proximity, a promise iiioiv precise, a seal on a confession, a roscK d dot upon the letter i in loving ; a Sfcni whi(;Ii elects the mouth for ear : an instuit of eternity murmuring like a bee ; balmy communion with a flavor of floweis ; a fashion of inh.aling each other's heart, and of tasting, on the brink of the lips, each other's soul ! RoXANE. 8a V no more no more Cyrano. A kiss, Madame, is a thiti^'sn noble that the Queen of France, on th'' most fortunate of lords, bestowed one, did th(^ (jueen herself! RoxANE. If that be so . . . Cyrano {icifii iiicreasntg frrvor). Lik- Buckingham I have suffered in long sileiid. 138 Cyrano de Bergerac. like liini I worship a queen, like him I am stiirowful and unchanging . . . R( >x ANE. Like him you enthrall through llif eyes the heart that follows you ! Cyrano {to himself, sobered). True, I all! liîiiulsome ... I had forgotten ! RoxANE. Come tlien and gather it, the supreme flower . . . Cyrano (ji>;(.s7////f/ Christian toward the hnlrony). Go! HoXANE. . . . tasting of the heart. Cyrano. Go ! . . . HoXANE. . . . munnuringlikeahee . . . Cyrano. Go! Christian (îiesifating). But now I feel as if I ought not ! RoXANE. . . . making Eternity an in- >tant^ ... Cyrano ( pushing Christian). Scale the [liah^ony, you donkey ! (Christian springs toward the balconij, \u]i(l climbs by means of the bench, the rine, \ih(> posts and balusters). Christian. xVh, Roxane! (He clasps \hi'r to him^ and bends over her lips). Cyrano. Ha! . . . What a turn of the Iscrevv to my heart ! . . . Kiss, banquet (i I.ove at which I am Lazarus, a crumb [drop^î from your table even to me, here in 139 Cvrano de Bergerac. tliis the sbîule. . . . Yes, in my cnitstn-tr)].,! lieart a, little falls, as I feel that u\Hi\\ il.,. lip pi'essiiig her lip Roxane kisses tii,. words spoken by me! - . . (The ihrurUox (dv heard.) A merry tune . . . a ninuin. f ul one . . . The monk! {He goes fhj'iHnjl, the prefe)iee of arriving on the tijtof at n rtiu, a.'-f if from a distance ; calling.) llo. tliere ! KoxANK. What is it ? Cyrano. It is I. I was passing way. Is Christian there ? CiiRi^TiA^ (astonisJied). Cyrano! Roxane. Good-evening, cousin ! Cyrano. Cousin, good-evening! Roxane. I will come down. (Roxane disappears in the house. Caruoin re-enters at the back.) Christian {seeing him). Oh, again I follows Roxane.) The Capucin. It is here she lives. 1 ,1111 certain . . . Magdeleine Robin. Cyrano. You said Ro-lin. The Capucin. No, bin, . . . b, i, n. bin : Roxane (appearing upon the tJtreslutlii followed ht/ Ra(JUENEau carrying a lanti'ni and Christian.) What is it ? The Capucin. A letter. Christian. What ? 140 fllK Cyrano de Bergerac. 10 : <*".] [lVO^ ), 1, î^. t/ alanii'i'H Thk Capucin (to Roxane). Oh, the con- tents can be only of a sacred character ! It is from a worthy nobleman who . . . Roxane {to Christian). It is from De iluiche ! Christian. He dares to ... ? KoXANE. Oh, he will not trouble me much longer ! {Opening the letter.) I love y.)U. and if . . . {By the light of Rague- NEA( s lantern nlie reads, aside, low.) Mad(Mnoiselle : The drums are beating. My regiment is buckling on its corselet. It is about to leave. I am thought to have left already, but lag behind. I am disobey- ing you. I am in the convent here. I am loming to you, and send you word by a friar, silly as a sheep, who has no suspicion if tlie import of this letter. You smiled too sweetly upon me an hour ago : I must jiiee you smile again. Provide to be alone. and deign graciously to receive the auda- cious worsliipper, forgiven already, T can lliut hope, who signs himself your — etc. . . . li7o The Capucin.) Father, this is what |tlu> letter tells me . . . Listen: (All draw mttrr ; she reads aloud.) Mademoiselle : riif wishes of the cardinal may not be dis- ro^'arded, however hard com])liance with (hem prove. I have thei'efore chosen as 141 Cyrano de Bergerac. I bearer of this letter a most reverend, liolv and sagacious Capucin; it is our wish that he should at once, in your own dwellin^:. pronounce the nuptial blessing ovei- xmi Christian must secretly become your luis- band. I send him to you. You dislike him. Bow to Heaven's will in resignation. and be sure that it will bless your zeal, and sure, likewise. Mademoiselle, of tlic iv- spect of him who is and will be ever your most humble and . . . etc. The Capucin (beaming). The woi-tliy gentleman ! ... I knew it ! You ic member that I said so: The contents of that letter can be only of a sacred chaîne ter! EoxANE {low, to Christian). I am ai fluent reader, am I not ? Christian. Hm ! RoxANK {wltJf feigned despair). Ah . it is horrible ! The Capucin (wJio has tuimed the li^J( owing into the house, Roxane .saT/.s* loio fo Cyrano.) De Guiche is coming.' . . . Keep him here ! Do not let him enter until . . . Cyrano. I understand ! ( To The Capu- iiN.) How long will it take to marry them ? The Capucin. A quarter of an hour. Cyrano (jyushing all toivard the house). Go in ! I shall be here ! Roxane (to Christian). Come ! {They go in.) ! Cyrano. How can I detain De Guiche [for a quarter of an hour ? {He jumps upon \ the bench, elinibs the wall toward the bal- Iconj/ rail.) So ! T climb up here ! . . . I know what I will do! . . . (The theor- em play a melancholy tune.) Ho, it is a Iman ! {The tune quavers higid>rionsly.) IHo. ho, this time there is no mistake ! {He p on the balcony ; he pulls the brim of his f/af orerhis eyes^ takes off hissivord, wraps 143 Cyrano de Bergerac. Jus cloak about him, and bends orert/u^haj. cony-rail.) No, it is not too far ! ;//,- climbs over the balcony rail, and reach i mi for a long bough that jrrojects bef/oHii the garden trail, holds on to it inth hoih hands, ready to let himself drop.) 1 sli,,ll make a slight commotion in the atiiiMs- phere ! De Guiche {enters masked, gropimf in the dark). Wliat can that thrice-dannied Capucin he about ? Cyrano. The devil ! if he should ic( - ognize my voice ? {Letting go icitlt oui' hand, he makes sJioir of turning a b'lj: Cric ! crac ! {Solemnly.) Cyrano, resuiiic the accent of Bergerac ! De Guiche {looking at Roxane's Iioh.^ck Yes, that is it. I can scarcely see. Tliis mask bothers my ejes ! (He is about t4 flattened upon the ground, motionless, as if\ stunned.) De Guiche. What is it ? ( When lA looks up, the bough lias sir un g into })I(i('i'i 144 \v 1 (//^ reach i II ij ^ be H' III'' With (H>ih ) 1 shMl le atiu't - ropiiKj III houUl ICC- ) icitJi OH'' ng a /*''.'/• no, resuii\»' ES see. lioum. iS a6oNf ^ ??efice('" file iieutn))\(^^ \he ep'rto f, 0»'^ / li ion /t^ss. f'-*^ '/ {What to ph m m Cyrano de Bergerac. he i^ees nothing but the sky). Where did this man drop from ? Cyrano (rising to a sitting i^osture). Frc»m the moon ! De Guiche. From the ... ? I'YRANo {inadreaniy voice). What time is it? 1)F<] Guiche. Has he gone mad ? C'VRAXo. What time ? What country ? What day ? What season ? De Guiche. But . . . CVrano. I am dazed ! De Guiche. Monsieur . . . Cyrano. I have dropped from the moon like a bomb ! De Guiche (impatien tUj) . Wliat are you babl)Hng about ? Cyrano (rising, in a terrible voice). I tell you I have dropped from the moon Î De Guiche (backing a step). Ver}^ woll. You have dropped from the moon I . . He is perhaps a hinatic ! Cyrano (walking up close to him). Not metaphorically, mind that ! De Guiche. But . . . Cyrano. A hundred years ago, or else a minute, — for I have no conception how long I have been falling, — I was up there, in that saffron-colored ball ! 10 145 •.#±L- Cyrano de Bergerac. t M'i De GuR'HE {shrugging his shoHidpvs). You were. Now, let me pass! Cyrano (stwiding in Jiis way). Wlioiv am I ? Be frank with me ! Keep nothing; from me! In what region, among uiiat people, have I been shot like an aerolite ? De Guk'HE. I wish to passl Cyrano. Wliile falling I could not choose my way, and have no notion avIumo I have fallen! Is it upon a moon, or is it upon an earth, I have been dragged h\ my posterior weight ? De Guiche. I tell you, sir . . . Cyrano (with a scream of terror at irliich De Guiche starts backward a step) . Great God !.. In this country men's faces mv soot- black ! De Guiche (lifting his hand to hi.^ pivo. What does he mean ? Cyrano {still terrified). Am I in Al geria ? Are you a native ? . . . De Guiche {who has felt his mask) . Ah. my mask ! Cyrano (pretending to be easier). Sol am in Venice ! ... Or am I in Genoa t De Guiche (attempting to pass) . A lady is expecting me ! Cyrano (completely reassured). Ah, then I am in Paris. 146 Cyrano de Bergerac. lotbin^' r whiit l'oUte '. lld not ,11 Avhert^ , or is it ^gged by ^at vhirh ) . Great faces are his face). I in W- isk). A^^- ier). i^ol Genoa '. }). Abuly De Guiche {smiling in spite of himself ). The rogue is not far from amusing ! Cyrano. Ah, you are laughing î De Guiche. I laugh . . . but intend to pass ! Cyrano (beaming). To think I should strike Paris! {Quite at his ease, laughing, brushing himself, bowing.) I arrived — pray, pardon my appearance ! — by the last whirlwind. I am rather unpresentable — Travel, you know! My eyes are still full of star-dust. My spurs are clogged with bristles off a planet. {Appearing to pick mmething off his sleeve.) See, on my sleeve, a comet's hair! {He makes a feint of blowing it aivay.) DeGviche {beside himself). Sir . . . Cyrano (as De Guiche is about to pass, 4 retching out his leg as if to show some- fh'nnj on it, thereby stopping him.) Em- be'dded in my calf, I have brought back one of the Great Bear's teeth . . . and as, falHng too near the Trident, I strained aside to clear one of its prongs, I landed sitting in Libra, . . . yes, one if the scales ! . . . and now my weight is registered up there ! {Quickly preventing De Guiche //'om pass- ing, and taking hold of a button on his doublet.) And if. Monsieur, you should 147 Cyrano de Bergerac. take my nose between your fingers ;uul compress it . . . milk would result ! • De Guiche. What are you saying' Milk ? . . . Cyrano. Of the Milky Way. De Guiche. Go to the devil ! Cyrano. No ! I am sent from Heaven, literally. (Folding his arms.) Will Vdu believe — I discovered it in passing — tluit Sirius at night puts on a night-cap ? i ( on jklentially.) The lesser Bear is too littl<' yet to bite. . . . (Langhing.) I tumbled plumj) through Lyra, and snapped a string I . . . {Magnificent.) But I intend setting all this down in a book, and the golden stars I liavi brought back caught in my shaggy mantle. when the book is printed, will be setii serving as asterisks! De Guiche. I have stood this loii^' enough! I want ... Cyrano. I know perfectly what you want ! De Guiche. Man ... Cyrano. You want to know, from nie. at first hand, what the moon is made of. and whether that monumental pumpkin is inhabited ? De Guiche (shouting). Not in the very least! I want . . . 148 Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano. To know how I got there ? I got there by a method of my own inven- tion. 1)K GuiCHE (discouraged) . He is mad ! . . . stark! Cyrano (disda hi fully). Do not imagine^ that I resorted to anything so absurd as Kegiomontanus's eagle, or anything so lacking in enterprise as Arehytas's pigeon! . . . Dk Guiche. The madman is eru- dite . . . Cyrano. I drew up nothing that had ever been thought of before ! (De Guiche has succeeded in getfiug past Cy'Rano, and /.s' Hearing Roxane's door ; Cyrx^o follows hiiti, ready to buttonhole him.) I invented no less than six ways of storming the bhie fort of Heaven ! Dk Guiche {turning around). Six, did you say ? Cyrano (volubly). One way was to stand naked in the sunshine, in a harness thickly studded with glass phials, each tilled with morning dew. The sun in draw- iiii^ lip the dew, you see, could not have lit'lped drawing me up too ! De Guiche (surprised, taking a step to- ii'urd Cy'RANO). True. That is one! 149 Cynino de Bergerac. à w Cyrano (UtkitKj a step iKickirar*/, irith ,i i^ieir f(ulr(iirin(j DkCtUIche away fvoni f In- door). Or els*', I could liave let the wiml into Ji cedar c(^ffer, then rarified tlic im- prisoiied element by means of cunniii-ly adjusted burning-glasses, and s(^nr- priate globe a sufficient quantity to ascend with me ! De Guiche (a,s above., more and move as- ton i shed). Four ! Cyrano. Since Phœbe, the no < goddess, when she is at wane, is j. '^ beeves ! of your marrow, . . . ^\i ■ tlii marrow have besmeared mvself ! 150 Cyrano de Bergerac. (7 mon' '<''^- De Gru'HK (atnuzcil). Five ! C^YRANo (//7). I am dreaming or drunk! That voice .^ ( Tlie door of Roxane's Jioitse opens : lach- ef/s appear camjing lighted eandelahni. Cyrano removes his hat.) And that nose! . . . Cyrano! Cyrano {bowing). Cyrano. Tliey have exchanged rings within the quarter of the hour. De Guiche. Who have ? {He ttrriis round. Tableau. Behind the laeh'// stand RoxANE a}id Christian holding hand.^. The CAPUciN/V>//o?r.s them smiling. Racuk- NEAU holdshigh a jlandyeau . The Duenna closes the procession, bewildered, in lur Cyrano de Bergerac. )ath . . . irst, — tlic liair A\ ill mopl- 1 3autifully . . I rus(.' „ . when, • • • jsitfj, tdh- Vell, . . . g las naf- Lsieur, aiitl i. ith aledji . at voie»' : us ; lac!:- )) délabra. liât no^c! 'liev bave •ter of the ckcfl sfdii'J a Jiftïidx. Ra(41'E- K DUENNA d, ÎK hi'i' hfHhjown.) Heavens! (/oRoxane.) You! {liecognizing Christian irifh cunazcnient.) Hc .'' {Bowiiig to lioxAi^E.) Your astute- iR'ss compels my adiMiration.' [To Cyrano.) My compliments to you, injj:en- ioiis inventor of flying macliines. Your t'xi)eriences would have beguiled a saint on the tbresbold of Paradise ! Make a note c)f tliem. . . . They can be used again, witli profit, in a book! Cyrano {bowing). I will confidently fol- low your advice. The Capucin {to De Gvkhe, pointing at fJic ïoi'ers, and wagging Ju's great wtiite heard with satisfactimt). A beautiful couple, my son, brought together by you! T)E GricHE (eyeing him frig id! u). As you say ! ( To "Roxane. ) And now proceed, Madame, to take leave of your husband. KoXANE. Wliat ? De Gt^iche (to Christian). Tlie regi- ment is on tlie point of starting. You are to join it ! RoxANE. To go to war ? De GricHE. Of course! KoxANE. But the cadets are not going! 1 >E Gru'HE. They are ! ( Tidcing oui the jtajfer wJiicJt he had jnd in Ids poeket.) Ik'i'e is the order. (To Christian.) I beg 153 ik Cyrano de Bergerac. you will take it to the Captain, baron, yourself. RoxANE {throwing her^self m Christian's arms). Christian ! De Guiche {to Cyrano, ivith a raaligiKint laugh). The wedding night is somewliat far as yet ! Cyrano (aside). He thinks that he is giving me great pain ! Christian {to Roxane). Oh, once nioro, dear ! . . . Once more ! Cyrano. Be reasonable . . . Come ! . . . Enough ! Christian (still clasping Roxane). Oli, it is hard to leave her. . . . You cannot know. . . Cyrano (trying to draw him away). I know. (Drums arelieard in the distance souiid- iny a nuirt'li.) De Guiche (at the back). The regiment is on its way ! Roxane (to Cyrano, ichile she clings to Christian ivhom he is trying to draw awuij^. Oh ! ... I entrust him to your care \ Promise that under no circumstance shall his life be placed in danger ! Cyrano. î will endeavor . . . but (»!» viously cannot promise . . . 154 HRISTIAN S Cyrano de Bergerac. RoXANE {satne business). Promise that he will be careful of himself! Cyrano. I will do my best, but . . . RoxANE (as above). That during this terrible siege he shall not take harm from the cold ! Cyrano. I will try, but . . . RoxANE {as above) . That he will be true to me ! Cyrano. Of course, but yet, you see . . . RoxANE (as above). That he will write to me often ! Cyrano (stopping). Ah, that ... I promise freely! {Curtain.) '55 ACT FOURTH. THE GASCONY CADETS. The 2^ost occupied at the siege of Amis by the companij of Carbon de Castel-Ja- Loux. At the hack, across the whole stage, slopinff earthwork. Beyond this is seen a pkmi stretching to tJie horizon ; the country is covered witlt constrîictions relating to tliv siege. In the distance, against the sky, th" outlines of tfie walls and roofs of Arras. Tents ; scattered arms ; drums, etc. It is shortly before sunrise. The East is yelloir. Sentinels at even intervals. Camp-fln's. The Gascon- Y Cadkts lie asleep, rolled in their cloaks. Carbon- de Castel-Jaloi \ and Le Biiet are watching. All are veni pale and gaunt. Chrtsttax lies sleepiim among the others, in his military cape, in the foreground, his face lighted hy one uf the camp-fires. Silence. Le Bret. It is droadful ! Carb(W. Yes. Nothing left. Le Bret. Mordiovs ! '56 Cyrano de Bergerac. ')f Arras \stel-Ja- )le stii(jt\ is seen a ? count nj ing to fli>' esky, t/ic )('. // is y.^ f/< 11 0)1' m lied ill (ivp rmi )\iiii xlec] 'vtpp, \hj/ one of III Carbon {wo/niwg him by a gesture to spfcik lower). Curse in a whisper ! You will wake them ! . . . {To the Cadets.) Hush ! Go to sleep ! {To Lk Bret.) Wiio sleeps dines. Le Bret. Who lies awake misses two good things . . . What a situation ! {A feu: shots are heard in the distance.) Carbon. The devil take their popping! Tlu'V will wake my young mes I . . . {To the Cadets u-ho lift their heads.) (n)to sleep ! {The Cadets lie down again. Other éots are heard, nearer.) One of the Cadets (stirring.) The devil: Again? Carbon. It is nothing. It is Cyrano çretting home. ( Th e heads ichhh had sta rted lip, go down again.) A Sentinel {outside). Ventrebieu ^ Who goes there ? Cyrano's Voice. Bersrerac ! The Sentinel (upon the embankment). Vi'nfrcbieu. ! Who goes there ? Cyrano (appearing at the top of the em- iiiiiil'iueut). Bergern<\ hlockhead ! J/f' comes down. Le Bret goes to him, >nu'(i!^f/.) Lk Bret. Ah, thnnk God ! 157 Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano {warning him by a sign to wakf no one). Hush ! Le Bret. Wounded ? Cyrano. Do you not know that it has become a habit with them to miss me ? Le Bret. To me, it seems a little ex- cessive that you should, every moriiin^c, for the sake of taking a letter, risk . . . Cyrano (stopping in front c{/"Christia\). I promised that he would write often. {He looks at Christian). He sleeps. Ke has grown pale. If the poor little girl could know that he is starving. . . . But handsome as ever ! Le Bret. Go at once and sleep. Cyrano. Le Bret, do not grumble ! Learn this : I nightly cross the iSpanish lines at a point where I know beforehand every one will be drunk. Le Bret. You ought some time to briiii: us back some victuals ! Cyrano. I must be lightly burdened to flit through ! . . . But I know that theiv will be events before the evening. Tli<' French, unless I am much mistaken, will eat or die. Le Bret. Oh, tell us ! Cryano. No, I am not certain . . . Ymi will see ! Cyrano de Bergerac. to icakd bat it lias is me ? little ex- morning, sk . . . HRISTIAN). •ite often. leeps. He little girl . . . But ep. , grumble 1 18 Spanish beforelnuKl me to bring )iirdened tu that thevp ^ning. Th'' aaken. ^vill LU Y'^11 Carbon. What a shameful reversal of the order of things, that the besieger should be starved ! Le Bret. Alas ! never was more compli- cated siege than this of Arras : AVe lie- siege Arras, and, caught in a trap, are our- selves besieged by the Cardinal-prince of Spain. . . Cyrano. Someone now ought to come and besiege him. Le Bret. I am not joking ! Cyrano. Oh, oh ! Le Bret. To think, ungrateful boy, that every day you risk a life precious as yours, solely to carry . . . (Cyrano goes toward one of the tents.) Where are you going ? Cyrano. I am going to write another. [lie lift H the canvaH fla})^ and disappears ill the tent.) [Dayhfeak has hrightened. Iiosj/ flush. The city of Arras at the horizon catches a (jdhlen light. Tlie report of a cannon is heard, folio wed at once hy a drum-calh very ffir away, at the left. Other drums Iwat, iHutcer. The dnon-calls answer one an- (^flirr, come nearer, conic rery near, aiidrio off. decreasing, dying in the disatnce, to- 159 Cyrano de Bergerac. •irard the rifjlit, haviiKj made thv cirrnl( nf the camp. XoLsc of (/encrai atcak'r)ii mj. Voices of officer H in the dix/ (nice). Carbon (with a sigh). The iweille. . . All, me! . . . {Tltc Cadets .stir in fhrir cloaks, stretch.) An end to the siieculcnr slumbers! I know but too well what tlicir first word will bo ! One OF THE Cadets {sitting np). I ;nn famished ! Other Cadet. I believe I am dyin^î All. Oh! . . . Carbon. Get up! Third Cadet. I cannot go a step Î Fourth Cadet. I have not strength l<> stir ! First Cadet {looking at himself in a hit of armor.) My tongue is coated : it must be the weather that is indigestible ! Other Cadet. Any one who wants them, can have all my titles of nobility for a Chester cheese ... or part of one ! Other Cadet. If my stomach does not have something put into it to take up th»' attention of my gastric juice, I shall retire into my tent before long . . . like Achil- les! Other Cadet. Yes, they ought to pro- vide us with bread ! i6o Cyrano de Bergerac. Carbon (going to the tent into ichich Cyrano Jias retired; low.) Cyrano! Other Cadets. We cannot stand this much longer! Carbon {a.sabore, at the door of the te)it). To the rescue, Cyrano ! You who succeed so well always in cheering them, come and m;ik<' them pluck up spirits ! Skconi) Cadet {falling upon First Cadet rJio is chew i tig mmething). What are you chewing, man? FiijTS Cadet. A bit of gun-tow fried in axl('-gre;\se. . . . using a burganet as frying pan. The suburbs of Arras are not precisely rich in game. . . . Other Cadet {entering). I have been hunting! Oth' 'I Cadet (the same). I have been fishing! All (rising and falling upon the )iew- comers). What ? — what did you catcli ? — A pheasant? — A carp? — Quick! quick! , . . Let us see ! The Huntsman. A sparrow ! The Angler. A gudgeon! All (exasperated). Enough of this! I Let us revolt ! Carbon. To the rescue, Cyrano! (It is now broad da}/ light.) 1 1 i6i Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano (coming out of the tent, traïupii], a ijen behind his ear, a book in his hfiml What is the matter ? {Silence. To Fihsj Cadet.) Why do you go off like that, witli that slouching gait ? The Cadet. I have something away down in my heels which inconveniences me. Cyrano. And what is that? The Cadet. My stomach. Cyrano. That is where mine is, too. The Cadet. Then you too must he in- convenienced. Cyrano. No. Tlie size of the hollow within me merely increases my senst^ of my size. Second Cadet. I happen to have teeth, long ones ! Cyrano. The hetter will you bite . . . in good time! Third Cadet. I reverberate like a drum ' Cyrano. You will be of use . . . tm sound the charge ! Other Cadet. I have a buzzing in my ears ! Cyrano. A mistake. Empty belly, no^ ears. You hear no buzzing. Other Cadet. Ah, a trifling article ti eat . . . and a little oil upon it ! 1C2 Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano {faking off the Cadet's morion tnid placing it in his hand). That is seasoned. Other Cadet. What is there we cuu Id devour ? Cyrano {tossing him the book he Jias y 0)1 holding). Try the IHad! Other Cadet. The minister, in Pai'is, makes his four meals a day ! Cyrano. You feel it remiss in him not to send you a bit of partridge ? The Same. Why should he not ? And some wine ! CS'RANO. Richelieu, some Burgundy, if you please ? The Same. He might, by one of his capucins ! Cyrano. By his Eminence, perhaps, in sober ^ray ? Other Cadet. No ogre was ever so hungry ! Cyrano. You may have your fill yet of Immble-pie! First Cadet (shrugging his shoulders). Forever jests! . . . puns! . . . mots! Cyrano. Lp wof forever, indeed ! And I would wish to die, on a fine evening, under a rose-flushed sky, delivering myself of a good mot in a good cause! . . . Ah, 163 Cyrano de Bergerac. yes, the best were indeed, far from fever- bed and potion, pierced witli the only noMf weapon, by an jidversary worthy of (jnf- self, to fall upon a gh^rious field, th(i ])oiiit of a sword thi'ough his heart, the point of a jest on his lips! . . . All {hi a wail). I am hungry! Cyrano {folding hi.s arms). God lia' mercy! canyon think of nothing but eating.' . . , Gome here, Bertrandou tiie lifer, once the sliepherd ! Take from the double case one of your fifes : breathe into it, play U\ this pack of guzzlers and of gluttons cur homely melodies, of haunting rliytliin, every note of which appeals like a little sister, through whose every strain are heard strains of beloved voices . . . mild melodies whose slowness brings to mind the slowness of the smoke upcurling from our native hamlet hearths . . . melodies that seem to speak to a man in his native dialect ! . . ( Tin' oldfifer sitH down and makes read}/ his fife) ïo-day let the fife, martial unwillingly, bo reminded, while your fingers upon its slender stem flutter like birds in a delicate minuet, that before being ebony it was reed ; surprise itself by what you make it sing, ... let it feel r<^stored to it the soul of its youth, rustic and peaceable! 164 {The Cyrano de Bergerac. old mxtn hcijiuH j)/(iijiuy Lamjuvdor fnncs). Listen, Gascons! It is no more, beneath his fingers, the slirill life of tlie eanip, but the soft flute of the woodland ! It is no in.n'o, between his lips, the wliistling note (»f lut tie, but the lowly lay of goatherds learess sufficient contempt for tlu'ir colonel ; call me intriguer, courtier, jiiid it irksonie to tlieir taste that I sliould wear, with my cuirass, a collar of Genoese pnint. and never cease to air their wondei'iug in dignation that a man should b(^ a Gascon without being a agabond ! ( Silfiicf. The Cadets co)}tinue smoking andplaji'niçj. Shall I have you punished by your ciii tain ? ... I do not like to. Carbox. Did you otherwise, however. . . . I am free, and punish only . . . De Guiche. Ah ? . . . Carbon. My company is paid by my- self, belongs to me. I obey no orders l»iiî| such as relate to war. De Guiche. Ah. is it so ? Enough, tlioii, I will treat your taunts with simple scorn, My fasliion of deporting myself under tiiv is well known. You are not unaware of the manner in which yesterday, at Bn])aii- me. I forced back the colunms of the Conitt' de Bucquoi ; gathering my men together to plutige forward hkean avalanche, tlin^ times I charged him. . , . l68 Cyrano de Bergerac. e. however, Cyrano {iritJionf Uftinçi Jiis nose from ///.s hook). And your wiiite scarf? Dk GuiCHK {snrj)rise(l and self-mi isficd). Vuu heard Oi that circumstance ( . . . In fact, it happened that as I was wlieeUn^- about to jollect my men for the third charge, I was caught in a stream of fugitives which hore me onward to the edge of the enemy. I was in danger of being captured and cut off with an arque- buse, when I had the presence of mind to unti^' '^nd let shpto the ground tlie wliite scan v.aich proclaimed my military grade. Tlius was I enahled, «mdistinguished, to withdraw from among the Spaniards, and thereupon returning with my reinspirited men, to defeat lliem. Well ? . . . What do you say to the incident ? ( Tlie Cadets have appeared not to be lisft'}ii)i(f : at this point, hoiverer, hands irith cards and dice-boxes remain snspotded in file air; no pipe-smoke is ejected : idl I'A-presses expectatio)i . ) Cyrano. That never would TTem-y the Fourth, however great the iiumher of Ids '»l>l»onents, liave consented to diminisli Ids pi'csence hy the size of his white ]dum(\ (SiJent Jo}/. Cards fall, dice rattle, i^uioke upwreathes.) 169 Cyrano de Bergerac. De Gur'HE. The trick was successful. however ! (As before, expectation susj^ends (fani- hlimj and .smoking.) Cyrano. Very hkely. But one should not resign the honor ot being a target. {Cards, dice, smoke, fall, rattle, and uji- wreathe, as hefo}'e, ine.rpression of increan- inij glee.) Had I been at hand when you allowed your scarf to drop — the quality of our courage, monsieur, shows dilïerent in this, — I would have picked it up and worn it. . . . De Guiche. Ah, yes, — more of your Gascon bragging! . . Cyrano. Bragging ? . . . Lend me the scarf. I engage to mount, ahead of all. to the assaidt, wearing it crosswise upon uiy brc'ist ! De Guiche. A Gascon's offer, that too! You know that the scarf was left in the enemy's camp, by the banks of the Scarpe. where bullets since then have hailed . . . wh(Mice no one can bring it back ! Cyrano (taking awhite scarf from hi:^ pocket and ha}tdi)ig it to De Guiche). Here it is. (Sile)ice. The Cadets smother th<'>T laughter behind cards and in dice-bodra, T70 Cyrano de Bergerac. iccessfiiî. idH (ja lu- ne should a target. and itjh )f increai<- when you quality of ilïereiit in ) and worn e of your nd me the id of all. to e upon my ', that too! Ileft in th*' -he Scarpa, hailed . . • k ! \f frow hif< IhE). Hen' )th(>r fhf'f De GuicHE tunis ar^oimd, looks at them; iiista7itly tJieij become grace ; one of them^ irith an air i>ftincoiicern^ ii'Jtistles tlie tune phtyed earlier by the fifer). De Guiche {taking the scarf). I thank vou. I shall be able witli this shred of wliite to make a signal . . . which I was hesitating to make. . . (He goes to the top of f lie bank and waves the scarf.) All. What now ? . . . Wliat is this ? The Sentinel (at the top of tlie bank). A man . . . over there . . . running otî . . . De Guiche (coming forward a gai )i). It is a supposed Spanish spy. He is vrry uneful to us. The information he carries to the enemy is that wdiich I give him, — so that their decisions are influenced by us. Cyrano. He is a scoundrel ! r>E GuK'HE (coolly tying on his scarf). ]\v is a convenience. We were saying ? ... Ah. I Avas about to tell you. I.ast ni<;ht. having resolved upon a desperate stroke to obtain supplies, the Marshal sporctly set out for Dourlens. Tlie royal sutlers are encamped thei-e. Ho expects to join them by way of the tilhnl fields : but. to Itrovide against interference, he took with him troops in such mmiber that, certainly, 171 m Cyrano de Bergerac. if we were now attacked, the enemy would find easy work. Half of the army is absent from the camp. Carbon. If the Spaniards knew thnt. it might be serious. But they do not know. De Guiche. They do. And are going to attack us. Carbon. Ah ! De Guk'HE. My pretended spy came to warn me of their intention. He saiie in the <{ista)icc.) Voice op a Sentinel. Ventrebieu, who goes there ? {Shots. Xolse of voices, tinkling of klls.) Carbon. What is it ? The Sentinel {on the top of the bank). A coach ! (.1// run to see.) (Xoisy exclamations.) What ? — In the camp ? — It is driving into the camp ! — It comes from the direction of the enemy ! Tlio devil ! Fire upon it I — No ! the coach- man is shouting something ! — What does he say ? — lie shouts : Service of the King! De Quiche. What ? Service of the iKiiig ? {Ml come down from the hank and fall l"//u order.) Carbon. Hats off, all ! De Guiche {at the corner). Service of |the King ! Stand back, low rabble, and Ï75 Cyrano de Bergerac. Il 1 give it room to turu around with a hnud- ►some sweep ! ( T/w roiirJi rofnrs in af (t Irat. II is covered wUh mud and duH . The mr- tdins (trc drmcn. Tiro laflicys hrhiml. It comes hi d sfandsfiU.) Carbon {shoi(fi}i(/). Salute ! {Di'fnns roll. All the Cadets lotcoccr ) De Guiche. Let down the steps ! [Tiro men liurrij forirard. lite coach door opens.) lioXANE {i^tepping from the carrictge). Good-morning ! {At fite mund of (t femimne voice, all ilie me)K in fl/e act of bowinfi tou\ straiijld- ea tlie m selves. Coasternatioa.) De Guiche. Service of the King ! You ? RoxANE. Of the only King! . . of Love! Cyrano. Ah, great God ! Christian (r ashing to her). You! Why are you here ? RoxANE. This siege lasted too long ! Christian. Why have you come ? RoxANE. I will tell you ! Cyrano {ivho at the soancl of her voice has started, then stood motionless irithout voduriag to look her iraij). God ! . . can I trust myself to look at her ? 176 Cvrano de Beriicrac. a luind- il. // />• Tin' '■"!'- s hi'liiiiil. nn cover ) TJte coocli carriage). p voice, cïï '0, straiilhi- ) mg ! You \ . of Love! )• You! )0 long ! borne ? pf her voice [ess irithont God ! . • • De Guiche. You cannot remain licre. KoXANK. But I can, — I can, indciMl ! Will vou favor nie with a drum ? (.s7/<' !i.) Tlicy firod iipcjn my carriage. PromUij.) A parol! — It does look ratlu^' as if it were made out of a pumpkin, does it not? like Cinderella's coach! ;nid the footmen made out of rats! BIoiciiH/ akiss fo Christian.) How do you do? (L()ohi)in (it them all.) You do not look overjoyed ! . . . Arras is a long way from Paris, do you know it ? (C itching sight of Cyrano.) Tousiu, delighted ! I' V RANG {coming toivard her). But how ilid vou ... ? RoXANE. How did I find the armv ? iH'ar me, cousin, that was simple: I fol- i\v(»d straight along the line of devasta- Itioii. . . . Ah, I should never have be- lieved in such horrors had I not seen them ! Kn'iitlemen, if that is the service of your iKiiiii:. I like mine better ! Cyrano. But this is mad ! . . . By ftiiat way did you come ? RoXANE. Way ? ... I drove through file Spaniards' camp. 12 177 *3^, % IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) M % /. // f/j A 1.0 I.I 1.25 ?^^ IIIIZI 111112.5 : 1^ 112.0 1.8 1-4 IIIIII.6 ^. Y <^^ s*- m U^'// m^ ■c). tiSR m % .?i'^'' y /À Photographic Sciences Corporation ^^ -b s? V N> % V ça, 6^ k «^ 4fU <> 't .ost galbuit ^ passp(.>vt. have \)(^^'i^ and and de- y, you î^v" say. "^ ■^''' ,t once, th' îm ail ^^ and. date, B^^'^^'*' îUed at mo ir.d liaug^ Iher and Christian. But, Roxane . . . RoxANE. I said, " My lover ! " yes, for- give me ! — You see, if I had said, " My hus- band ! " they would never have let me by I Christian. But . . . Roxane. What troubles you ? De Guiche. You must leave at once Roxane. I ? Cyrano. At once ! Le Bret. As fast as you can. Christian. Yes, you must. R( >xane. But why ? Christian {embarrassed). Because . . . Cyrano {embarrassed too). In three quarters of an hour . . . De Guiche {the same). Or an hour . . . Carbon {the same). You had much Itottfn- . . . l.K Bret {the same). You might . . . Roxane. I shall remain. You are going I to tight. All. Oh, no !.. . No ! Roxane. He is my husband ! {She |//i/o«*.s herself in Christian's arms.) Let |nie be killed with you I Christian. How your eyes shine ! R( )XANE. I will tell you why they shine I r>K Guiche {desperately). It is a post of [lorrible probabilities ! 179 Cyrano de Bergerac. ]l Ë RoxANE {turning toward him). What— of horrible ? . . . Cyrano. In proof of which he appui iitod us to it ! . . . RoXANE. Ah, you wish me made a widow ? De Guic he. I swear to you . . . RoxANE. No ! Now I have lost all re- gard. . . . Now I will surely not go. . . . Besides, I think it fun ! Cyrano. What ? The précieuse con- tained a heroine ? Roxane. Monsieur de Bergerac, I am a cousin of yours ! One of the Cadets. Never think but that we will take good care of you ! 1. n r; ( fi(j> Roxane {more and more excited). I aniB'/( i>U sure you will, my friends ! Other Cadet. The whole camp si n. lis I of iris ! Umc Roxane. By good fortune I put on a liatBto |,l that will look well in battle ! {GlanciutMn\ix\ toward De Guiche.) But perhaps it i»//. time the Count should go. — The hattlmaio might begin. I Tifl De Guk'HE. Ah, it is intolerable \—\ ai)« f v[ going to inspect my guns, and coming lta('kM'\i)j,;| — You still have time: think better ul it!*-\'/,| Roxane. Never I B.'is cj| i8o 1 What- ippuinted lost uU ro- ot go. • • • cieuse oon- grac, 1 i^^^^ ^ » think you " ited). I uuv camp sin» '\l>^ bat put on a »rbaps it m \>attl( -The •able '.- 1 coming better -1 aiT u fit' Cyrano dc Bergerac. (Exit De Guiche). Christian {imploring). Roxane ! HOXANE. No ! First Cadet. She is going to stay Î All (hurrying about, pushing o)ie an- (ifhf'r, smitching tJii)igs from one another) A comb !^Soap ! — My jacket is torn, a iKH^lle ! — A ribbon ! — Lend me your pocket- minor ! — My cuffs ! — Curling-irons ! — A razor ! RoXANE {to Cyrano, ivho is still pleading n'itJi. her). No ! Nothing shall prevail upon me to stir from this spot ! Carbon {after having, like the others, tightened his belt, dusted himself, brushed hiti hat, straightened his feather, pulled •hnoi his cuffs, approaches Roxane, and mnnoniously). It is, perliaps, proper since you are going to stay, that I should pivstmt to you a few of the gentlemen about have the honor of dj^ing in your pres- icnce . . . (Roxane botes, and stands wait- (/. with her arm through Christian's.) mm Peyrescous de Colignac ! The Cadet (bowing). Madame ! Carbon {contimii)ig to present the Ai>KTS) Baron de Casterac de Cohusac, Viilame de Malgouyre Estressac Les- s d'Escarabiot, — Chevalier d'Antignac- iSi Cyrano de Bergerac. ! r t il i n Juzet, — Baron Hillot de Blagnac-Saledian (le Castel Crabioules . . . RoxANE. But how many names hjivc you apiece ? Baron Hillot. Innumerable! Carbon {to Roxane). Open your liainl with the handkerchief! Roxane (opeiifi her hand; the handle i- chief drop>i). Why ? {'Hie wlioh conipdny starts fonror'l In pick it up). Carbon {instantly catching it). My company had no flag! Now, my word. it will have the prettiest one in the army ! Roxane (smiling). It is rather small! Carbon (fastening the handkerchirf m the staff of his captain's spear). But it isj lace ! One of the Cadets {to the others). \\ could die without a murmur, having l x •!« ufon that beautiful face, if I had so inucli as a walnut inside me ! . . . Carbon {who has overheard, indig^iauU Shame ! ... to talk of food when an ex quisite woman . . . Roxane. But the air of the camp searching, and I myself am hini^nvj Patties, jellied meat, light wine . . . ai 182 Ch Cyrano de Bergerac. what I should like best ! Will you kindly briii}^ me some ? {('(nif