 | Cyrano de Bergerac: A Play in Five Acts |  |
Scene IV.
The same. Cyrano, then Bellerose, Jodelet.MONTFLEURY
(to the marquises)
Come to my help, my lords!
A MARQUIS
(carelessly)
Go on! Go on!
CYRANO
Fat man, take warning! If you go on, I Shall feel myself constrained to cuff your face!
Have done!
CYRANO
And if these lords hold not their tongue Shall feel constrained to make them taste my cane!
ALL THE MARQUISES
(rising)
Enough!. . .Montfleury. . .
CYRANO
If he goes not quick I will cut off his ears and slit him up!
A VOICE
But. . .
CYRANO
Out he goes!
ANOTHER VOICE
Yet. . .
CYRANO
Is he not gone yet?
(He makes the gesture of turning up his cuffs)Good! I shall mount the stage now, buffet-wise, To carve this fine Italian sausage--thus!
MONTFLEURY
(trying to be dignified)
You outrage Thalia in insulting me!
(very politely)
If that Muse, Sir, who knows you not at all, Could claim acquaintance with you--oh, believe (Seeing how urn-like, fat, and slow you are) That she would make you taste her buskin's sole!
THE PIT
Montfleury! Montfleury! Come--Baro's play!
CYRANO
(to those who are calling out)
I pray you have a care! If you go on My scabbard soon will render up its blade!
(The circle round him widens.)
THE CROWD
(drawing back)
Take care!
CYRANO
(to Montfleury)
Leave the stage!
THE CROWD
(coming near and grumbling)
Oh!--
CYRANO
Did some one speak?
(They draw back again.)
(singing at the back)
Monsieur de Cyrano Displays his tyrannies A fig for tyrants! What, ho! Come! Play us 'La Clorise!'
ALL THE PIT
(singing)
'La Clorise!' 'La Clorise!'. . .
CYRANO
Let me but hear once more that foolish rhyme, I slaughter every man of you.
A BURGHER
Oh! Samson?
CYRANO
Yes Samson! Will you lend your jawbone, Sir?
A LADY
(in the boxes)
Outrageous!
A LORD
Scandalous!
A BURGHER
'Tis most annoying!
A PAGE
Fair good sport!
THE PIT
Kss!--Montfleury. . .Cyrano!
Silence!
THE PIT
(wildly excited)
Ho-o-o-o-h! Quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo!
CYRANO
I order--
A PAGE
Miow!
CYRANO
I order silence, all! And challenge the whole pit collectively!-- I write your names!--Approach, young heroes, here! Each in his turn! I cry the numbers out!-- Now which of you will come to ope the lists? You, Sir? No! You? No! The first duellist Shall be dispatched by me with honors due! Let all who long for death hold up their hands!
(A silence)Modest? You fear to see my naked blade? Not one name?--Not one hand?--Good, I proceed!
(Turning toward the stage, where Montfleury waits in an agony)The theater's too full, congested,--I Would clear it out. . .If not. . .
(Puts his hand on his sword)The knife must act!
MONTFLEURY
I. . .
(leaves his chair, and settles himself in the middle of the circle which has formed)
I will clap my hands thrice, thus--full moon! At the third clap, eclipse yourself!
THE PIT
(amused)
Ah!
CYRANO
(clapping his hands)
One!
MONTFLEURY
I. . .
A VOICE
(in the boxes)
Stay!
THE PIT
He stays. . .he goes. . .he stays. . .
MONTFLEURY
I think. . .Gentlemen,. . .
CYRANO
Two!
MONTFLEURY
I think 'twere wisest. . .
CYRANO
Three!
(Montfleury disappears as through a trap. Tempest of laughs, whistling cries, etc.)
Coward. . .come back!
CYRANO
(delighted, sits back in his chair, arms crossed)
Come back an if you dare!
A BURGHER
Call for the orator!
(Bellerose comes forward and bows.)
THE BOXES
Ah! here's Bellerose!
BELLEROSE
(elegantly)
My noble lords. . .
THE PIT
No! no! Jodelet!
JODELET
(advancing, speaking through his nose)
Calves!
THE PIT
Ah! bravo! good! go on!
JODELET
No bravos, Sirs! The fat tragedian whom you all love Felt. . .
THE PIT
Coward!
JODELET
. . .was obliged to go.
Come back!
SOME
No!
OTHERS
Yes!
A YOUNG MAN
(to Cyrano)
But pray, Sir, for what reason, say, Hate you Montfleury?
CYRANO
(graciously, still seated)
Youthful gander, know I have two reasons--either will suffice. Primo. An actor villainous! who mouths, And heaves up like a bucket from a well The verses that should, bird-like, fly! Secundo-- That is my secret. . .
THE OLD BURGHER
(behind him)
Shameful! You deprive us Of the 'Clorise!' I must insist. . .
CYRANO
(turning his chair toward the burgher, respectfully)
Old mule! The verses of old Baro are not worth A doit! I'm glad to interrupt. . .
(in the boxes)
Our Baro!-- My dear! How dares he venture!. . .
CYRANO
(turning his chair toward the boxes gallantly)
Fairest ones, Radiate, bloom, hold to our lips the cup Of dreams intoxicating, Hebe-like! Or, when death strikes, charm death with your sweet smiles; Inspire our verse, but--criticise it not!
BELLEROSE
We must give back the entrance fees!
CYRANO
(turning his chair toward the stage)
Bellerose, You make the first intelligent remark! Would I rend Thespis' sacred mantle? Nay! (He rises and throws a bag on the stage) Catch then the purse I throw, and hold your peace!
THE HOUSE
(dazzled)
Ah! Oh!
JODELET
(catching the purse dexterously and weighing it)
At this price, you've authority To come each night, and stop 'Clorise,' Sir!
Ho!. . .Ho! Ho!. . .
JODELET
E'en if you chase us in a pack!. . .
BELLEROSE
Clear out the hall!. . .
JODELET
Get you all gone at once!
(The people begin to go out, while Cyrano looks on with satisfaction. But the crowd soon stop on hearing the following scene, and remain where they are. The women, who, with their mantles on, are already standing up in the boxes, stop to listen, and finally reseat themselves.)
LE BRET
(to Cyrano)
'Tis mad!. . .
A BORE
(coming up to Cyrano)
The actor Montfleury! 'Tis shameful! Why, he's protected by the Duke of Candal! Have you a patron?
CYRANO
No!
THE BORE
No patron?. . .
CYRANO
None!
What! no great lord to shield you with his name?
CYRANO
(irritated)
No, I have told you twice! Must I repeat? No! no protector. . .
(His hand on his sword)A protectress. . .here!
THE BORE
But you must leave the town?
CYRANO
Well, that depends!
THE BORE
The Duke has a long arm!
CYRANO
But not so long As mine, when it is lengthened out. . .
(Shows his sword)As thus!
THE BORE
You think not to contend?
CYRANO
'Tis my idea!
THE BORE
But. . .
CYRANO
Show your heels! now!
But I. . .
CYRANO
Or tell me why you stare so at my nose!
THE BORE
(staggered)
I. . .
CYRANO
(walking straight up to him)
Well, what is there strange?
THE BORE
(drawing back)
Your Grace mistakes!
CYRANO
How now? Is't soft and dangling, like a trunk?. . .
THE BORE
(same play)
I never. . .
CYRANO
Is it crook'd, like an owl's beak?
THE BORE
I. . .
CYRANO
Do you see a wart upon the tip?
THE BORE
Nay. . .
CYRANO
Or a fly, that takes the air there? What Is there to stare at?
Oh. . .
CYRANO
What do you see?
THE BORE
But I was careful not to look--knew better.
CYRANO
And why not look at it, an if you please?
THE BORE
I was. . .
CYRANO
Oh! it disgusts you!
THE BORE
Sir!
CYRANO
Its hue Unwholesome seems to you?
THE BORE
Sir!
CYRANO
Or its shape?
THE BORE
No, on the contrary!. . .
CYRANO
Why then that air Disparaging?--perchance you think it large?
(stammering)
No, small, quite small--minute!
CYRANO
Minute! What now? Accuse me of a thing ridiculous! Small--my nose?
THE BORE
Heaven help me!
CYRANO
'Tis enormous! Old Flathead, empty-headed meddler, know That I am proud possessing such appendice. 'Tis well known, a big nose is indicative Of a soul affable, and kind, and courteous, Liberal, brave, just like myself, and such As you can never dare to dream yourself, Rascal contemptible! For that witless face That my hand soon will come to cuff--is all As empty. . .
(He cuffs him.)
THE BORE
Aie!
CYRANO
--of pride, of aspiration, Of feeling, poetry--of godlike spark Of all that appertains to my big nose, (He turns him by the shoulders, suiting the action to the word) As. . .what my boot will shortly come and kick!
(running away)
Help! Call the Guard!
CYRANO
Take notice, boobies all, Who find my visage's center ornament A thing to jest at--that it is my wont-- An if the jester's noble--ere we part To let him taste my steel, and not my boot!
DE GUICHE
(who, with the marquises, has come down from the stage)
But he becomes a nuisance!
THE VISCOUNT DE VALVERT
(shrugging his shoulders)
Swaggerer!
DE GUICHE
Will no one put him down?. . .
THE VISCOUNT
No one? But wait! I'll treat him to. . .one of my quips!. . .See here!. . . (He goes up to Cyrano, who is watching him, and with a conceited air) Sir, your nose is. . .hmm. . .it is. . .very big!
CYRANO
(gravely)
Very!
THE VISCOUNT
(laughing)
Ha!
(imperturbably)
Is that all?. . .
THE VISCOUNT
What do you mean?
CYRANO
Ah no! young blade! That was a trifle short! You might have said at least a hundred things By varying the tone. . .like this, suppose,. . . Aggressive: 'Sir, if I had such a nose I'd amputate it!' Friendly: 'When you sup It must annoy you, dipping in your cup; You need a drinking-bowl of special shape!' Descriptive: ''Tis a rock!. . .a peak!. . .a cape! --A cape, forsooth! 'Tis a peninsular!' Curious: 'How serves that oblong capsular? For scissor-sheath? Or pot to hold your ink?' Gracious: 'You love the little birds, I think? I see you've managed with a fond research To find their tiny claws a roomy perch!' Truculent: 'When you smoke your pipe. . .suppose That the tobacco-smoke spouts from your nose-- Do not the neighbors, as the fumes rise higher, Cry terror-struck: "The chimney is afire"?' Considerate: 'Take care,. . .your head bowed low By such a weight. . .lest head o'er heels you go!' Tender: 'Pray get a small umbrella made, Lest its bright color in the sun should fade!'
DE GUICHE
(trying to draw away the dismayed viscount)
Come away, Viscount!
THE VISCOUNT
(choking with rage)
Hear his arrogance! A country lout who. . .who. . .has got no gloves! Who goes out without sleeve-knots, ribbons, lace!
CYRANO
True; all my elegances are within. I do not prank myself out, puppy-like; My toilet is more thorough, if less gay; I would not sally forth--a half-washed-out Affront upon my cheek--a conscience Yellow-eyed, bilious, from its sodden sleep, A ruffled honor,. . .scruples grimed and dull! I show no bravery of shining gems. Truth, Independence, are my fluttering plumes. 'Tis not my form I lace to make me slim, But brace my soul with efforts as with stays, Covered with exploits, not with ribbon-knots, My spirit bristling high like your mustaches, I, traversing the crowds and chattering groups Make Truth ring bravely out like clash of spurs!
THE VISCOUNT
But, Sir. . .
CYRANO
I wear no gloves? And what of that? I had one,. . .remnant of an old worn pair, And, knowing not what else to do with it, I threw it in the face of. . .some young fool.
Base scoundrel! Rascally flat-footed lout!
CYRANO
(taking off his hat, and bowing as if the viscount had introduced himself)
Ah?. . .and I, Cyrano Savinien Hercule de Bergerac
(Laughter.)
THE VISCOUNT
(angrily)
Buffoon!
CYRANO
(calling out as if he had been seized with the cramp)
Aie! Aie!
THE VISCOUNT
(who was going away, turns back)
What on earth is the fellow saying now?
CYRANO
(with grimaces of pain)
It must be moved--it's getting stiff, I vow, --This comes of leaving it in idleness! Aie!. . .
THE VISCOUNT
What ails you?
CYRANO
The cramp! cramp in my sword!
THE VISCOUNT
(drawing his sword)
Good!
CYRANO
You shall feel a charming little stroke!
(contemptuously)
Poet!. . .
CYRANO
Ay, poet, Sir! In proof of which, While we fence, presto! all extempore I will compose a ballade.
THE VISCOUNT
A ballade?
CYRANO
Belike you know not what a ballade is.
THE VISCOUNT
But. . .
CYRANO
(reciting, as if repeating a lesson)
Know then that the ballade should contain Three eight-versed couplets. . .
THE VISCOUNT
(stamping)
Oh!
CYRANO
(still reciting)
And an envoi Of four lines. . .
THE VISCOUNT
You. . .
CYRANO
I'll make one while we fight; And touch you at the final line.
No!
CYRANO
No?
(declaiming)The duel in Hotel of Burgundy--fought By De Bergerac and a good-for-naught!
THE VISCOUNT
What may that be, an if you please?
CYRANO
The title.
THE HOUSE
(in great excitement)
Give room!--Good sport!--Make place!--Fair play!--No noise!
(Tableau. A circle of curious spectators in the pit; the marquises and officers mingled with the common people; the pages climbing on each other's shoulders to see better. All the women standing up in the boxes. To the right, De Guiche and his retinue. Left, Le Bret, Ragueneau, Cyrano, etc.)
CYRANO
(shutting his eyes for a second)
Wait while I choose my rhymes. . .I have them now!
(He suits the action to each word)And, freeing hand and heel,
And I draw my polished steel;
Graceful as Phoebus, round I wheel,
Alert as Scaramouch,
A word in your ear, Sir Spark, I steal--
At the envoi's end, I touch!
Where skewer my cock? In the heel?--
In the heart, your ribbon blue below?--
In the hip, and make you kneel?
Ho for the music of clashing steel!
--What now?--A hit? Not much!
'Twill be in the paunch the stroke I steal,
When, at the envoi, I touch.
You wriggle, starch-white, my eel?
A rhyme! a rhyme! The white feather you SHOW!
Tac! I parry the point of your steel;
--The point you hoped to make me feel;
I open the line, now clutch
Your spit, Sir Scullion--slow your zeal!
At the envoi's end, I touch.
Envoi.
I move a pace--lo, such! and such!
Cut over--feint!
(Acclamations. Applause in the boxes. Flowers and handkerchiefs are thrown down. The officers surround Cyrano, congratulating him. Ragueneau dances for joy. Le Bret is happy, but anxious. The viscount's friends hold him up and bear him away.)
THE CROWD
(with one long shout)
Ah!
A TROOPER
'Tis superb!
A WOMAN
A pretty stroke!
RAGUENEAU
A marvel!
A MARQUIS
A novelty!
LE BRET
O madman!
THE CROWD
(presses round Cyrano. Chorus of)
Compliments! Bravo! Let me congratulate!. . .Quite unsurpassed!. . .
A WOMAN'S VOICE
There is a hero for you!. . .
(advancing to Cyrano with outstretched hand)
Sir, permit; Naught could be finer--I'm a judge I think; I stamped, i' faith!--to show my admiration!
(He goes away.)
CYRANO
(to Cuigy)
Who is that gentleman?
CUIGY
Why--D'Artagnan!
LE BRET
(to Cyrano, taking his arm)
A word with you!. . .
CYRANO
Wait; let the rabble go!. . .
(To Bellerose)May I stay?
BELLEROSE
(respectfully)
Without doubt!
(Cries are heard outside.)
JODELET
(who has looked out)
They hoot Montfleury!
(solemnly)
Sic transit!. . .
(To the porters)Sweep--close all, but leave the lights. We sup, but later on we must return, For a rehearsal of to-morrow's farce.
(Jodelet and Bellerose go out, bowing low to Cyrano.)
THE PORTER
(to Cyrano)
You do not dine, Sir?
CYRANO
No.
(The porter goes out.)
LE BRET
Because?
CYRANO
(proudly)
Because. . .
(Changing his tone as the porter goes away)I have no money!. . .
LE BRET
(with the action of throwing a bag)
How! The bag of crowns?. . .
CYRANO
Paternal bounty, in a day, thou'rt sped!
LE BRET
How live the next month?. . .
I have nothing left.
LE BRET
Folly!
CYRANO
But what a graceful action! Think!
THE BUFFET-GIRL
(coughing, behind her counter)
Hum!
(Cyrano and Le Bret turn. She comes timidly forward)Sir, my heart mislikes to know you fast.
(Showing the buffet)See, all you need. Serve yourself!
CYRANO
(taking off his hat)
Gentle child, Although my Gascon pride would else forbid To take the least bestowal from your hands, My fear of wounding you outweighs that pride, And bids accept. . .
(He goes to the buffet)A trifle!. . .These few grapes.
(She offers him the whole bunch. He takes a few)Nay, but this bunch!. . .
(She tries to give him wine, but he stops her)A glass of water fair!. . . And half a macaroon!
(He gives back the other half.)
LE BRET
What foolery!
Take something else!
CYRANO
I take your hand to kiss.
(He kisses her hand as though she were a princess.)
THE BUFFET-GIRL
Thank you, kind Sir!
(She courtesies)Good-night.
(She goes out.)
| Cyrano de Bergerac: A Play in Five Acts | |