 | Cyrano de Bergerac: A Play in Five Acts |  |
ACT II.
The Poet's Eating-House.Ragueneau's cook and pastry-shop. A large kitchen at the corner of the Rue St. Honore and the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, which are seen in the background through the glass door, in the gray dawn.
On the left, in the foreground, a counter, surmounted by a stand in forged iron, on which are hung geese, ducks, and water peacocks. In great china vases are tall bouquets of simple flowers, principally yellow sunflowers.
On the same side, farther back, an immense open fireplace, in front of which, between monster firedogs, on each of which hangs a little saucepan; the roasts are dripping into the pans.
On the right, foreground with door.
Farther back, staircase leading to a little room under the roof, the entrance of which is visible through the open shutter. In this room a table is laid. A small Flemish luster is alight. It is a place for eating and drinking. A wooden gallery, continuing the staircase, apparently leads to other similar little rooms.
In the middle of the shop an iron hoop is suspended from the ceiling by a string with which it can be drawn up and down, and big game is hung around it.
On metal and wicker plates they are bringing in piles of cakes and tarts.
Tables laden with rolls and dishes of food. Other tables surrounded with chairs are ready for the consumers.
A small table in a corner covered with papers, at which Ragueneau is seated writing on the rising of the curtain.
Scene I.
Ragueneau, pastry-cooks, then Lise. Ragueneau is writing, with an inspired air, at a small table, and counting on his fingers.FIRST PASTRY-COOK
(bringing in an elaborate fancy dish)
Fruits in nougat!
SECOND PASTRY-COOK
(bringing another dish)
Custard!
THIRD PASTRY-COOK
(bringing a roast, decorated with feathers)
Peacock!
(bringing a batch of cakes on a slab)
Rissoles!
FIFTH PASTRY-COOK
(bringing a sort of pie-dish)
Beef jelly!
RAGUENEAU
(ceasing to write, and raising his head)
Aurora's silver rays begin to glint e'en now on the copper pans, and thou, O Ragueneau! must perforce stifle in thy breast the God of Song! Anon shall come the hour of the lute!--now 'tis the hour of the oven!
(He rises. To a cook)You, make that sauce longer, 'tis too short!
THE COOK
How much too short?
RAGUENEAU
Three feet.
(He passes on farther.)
THE COOK
What means he?
FIRST PASTRY-COOK
(showing a dish to Ragueneau)
The tart!
SECOND PASTRY-COOK
The pie!
(before the fire)
My muse, retire, lest thy bright eyes be reddened by the fagot's blaze!
(To a cook, showing him some loaves)You have put the cleft o' th' loaves in the wrong place; know you not that the coesura should be between the hemistiches?
(To another, showing him an unfinished pasty)To this palace of paste you must add the roof. . .
(To a young apprentice, who, seated on the ground, is spitting the fowls)And you, as you put on your lengthy spit the modest fowl and the superb turkey, my son, alternate them, as the old Malherbe loved well to alternate his long lines of verse with the short ones; thus shall your roasts, in strophes, turn before the flame!
ANOTHER APPRENTICE
(also coming up with a tray covered by a napkin)
Master, I bethought me erewhile of your tastes, and made this, which will please you, I hope.
(He uncovers the tray, and shows a large lyre made of pastry.)
RAGUENEAU
(enchanted)
A lyre!
THE APPRENTICE
'Tis of brioche pastry.
RAGUENEAU
(touched)
With conserved fruits.
The strings, see, are of sugar.
RAGUENEAU
(giving him a coin)
Go, drink my health!
(Seeing Lise enter)Hush! My wife. Bustle, pass on, and hide that money!
(To Lise, showing her the lyre, with a conscious look)Is it not beautiful?
LISE
'Tis passing silly!
(She puts a pile of papers on the counter.)
RAGUENEAU
Bags? Good. I thank you.
(He looks at them)Heavens! my cherished leaves! The poems of my friends! Torn, dismembered, to make bags for holding biscuits and cakes!. . .Ah, 'tis the old tale again. . .Orpheus and the Bacchantes!
LISE
(dryly)
And am I not free to turn at last to some use the sole thing that your wretched scribblers of halting lines leave behind them by way of payment?
RAGUENEAU
Groveling ant!. . .Insult not the divine grasshoppers, the sweet singers!
LISE
Before you were the sworn comrade of all that crew, my friend, you did not call your wife ant and Bacchante!
To turn fair verse to such a use!
LISE
'Faith, 'tis all it's good for.
RAGUENEAU
Pray then, madam, to what use would you degrade prose?
Scene II.
The same. Two children, who have just trotted into the shop.RAGUENEAU
What would you, little ones?
FIRST CHILD
Three pies.
RAGUENEAU
(serving them)
See, hot and well browned.
SECOND CHILD
If it please you, Sir, will you wrap them up for us?
RAGUENEAU
(aside, distressed)
Alas! one of my bags!
(To the children)What? Must I wrap them up?
'Ulysses thus, on leaving fair Penelope. . .' Not that one!
(He puts it aside, and takes another, and as he is about to put in the pies, he reads)'The gold-locked Phoebus. . .' Nay, nor that one!. . .
(Same play.)
LISE
(impatiently)
What are you dallying for?
RAGUENEAU
Here! here! here
(He chooses a third, resignedly)The sonnet to Phillis!. . .but 'tis hard to part with it!
LISE
By good luck he has made up his mind at last!
(Shrugging her shoulders)Nicodemus!
(She mounts on a chair, and begins to range plates on a dresser.)
RAGUENEAU
(taking advantage of the moment she turns her back, calls back the children, who are already at the door)
Hist! children!. . .render me back the sonnet to Phillis, and you shall have six pies instead of three.
(The children give him back the bag, seize the
RAGUENEAU
(smoothing out the paper, begins to declaim)
'Phillis!. . .' On that sweet name a smear of butter! 'Phillis!. . .'
(Cyrano enters hurriedly.)
Scene III.
Ragueneau, Lise, Cyrano, then the musketeer.CYRANO
What's o'clock?
RAGUENEAU
(bowing low)
Six o'clock.
CYRANO
(with emotion)
In one hour's time!
(He paces up and down the shop.)
RAGUENEAU
(following him)
Bravo! I saw. . .
CYRANO
Well, what saw you, then?
RAGUENEAU
Your combat!. . .
CYRANO
Which?
That in the Burgundy Hotel, 'faith!
CYRANO
(contemptuously)
Ah!. . .the duel!
RAGUENEAU
(admiringly)
Ay! the duel in verse!. . .
LISE
He can talk of naught else!
CYRANO
Well! Good! let be!
RAGUENEAU
(making passes with a spit that he catches up)
'At the envoi's end, I touch!. . .At the envoi's end, I touch!'. . .'Tis fine, fine!
(With increasing enthusiasm)'At the envoi's end--'
CYRANO
What hour is it now, Ragueneau?
RAGUENEAU
(stopping short in the act of thrusting to look at the clock)
Five minutes after six!. . .'I touch!'
(He straightens himself). . .Oh! to write a ballade!
(to Cyrano, who, as he passes by the counter, has absently shaken hands with her)
What's wrong with your hand?
CYRANO
Naught; a slight cut.
RAGUENEAU
Have you been in some danger?
CYRANO
None in the world.
LISE
(shaking her finger at him)
Methinks you speak not the truth in saying that!
CYRANO
Did you see my nose quiver when I spoke? 'Faith, it must have been a monstrous lie that should move it!
(Changing his tone)I wait some one here. Leave us alone, and disturb us for naught an it were not for crack of doom!
RAGUENEAU
But 'tis impossible; my poets are coming. . .
LISE
(ironically)
Oh, ay, for their first meal o' the day!
Prythee, take them aside when I shall make you sign to do so. . .What's o'clock?
RAGUENEAU
Ten minutes after six.
CYRANO
(nervously seating himself at Ragueneau's table, and drawing some paper toward him)
A pen!. . .
RAGUENEAU
(giving him the one from behind his ear)
Here--a swan's quill.
A MUSKETEER
(with fierce mustache, enters, and in a stentorian voice)
Good-day!
(Lise goes up to him quickly.)
CYRANO
(turning round)
Who's that?
RAGUENEAU
'Tis a friend of my wife--a terrible warrior--at least so says he himself.
CYRANO
(taking up the pen, and motioning Ragueneau away)
Hush!
(To himself)I will write, fold it, give it her, and fly!
(Throws down the pen)Coward!
What time is it?
RAGUENEAU
A quarter after six!. . .
CYRANO
(striking his breast)
Ay--a single word of all those here! here! But writing, 'tis easier done. . .
(He takes up the pen)Go to, I will write it, that love-letter! Oh! I have writ it and rewrit it in my own mind so oft that it lies there ready for pen and ink; and if I lay but my soul by my letter-sheet, 'tis naught to do but to copy from it.
(He writes. Through the glass of the door the silhouettes of their figures move uncertainly and hesitatingly.)
Scene IV.
Ragueneau, Lise, the musketeer. Cyrano at the little table writing. The poets, dressed in black, their stockings ungartered, and covered with mud.LISE
(entering, to Ragueneau)
Here they come, your mud-bespattered friends!
FIRST POET
(entering, to Ragueneau)
Brother in art!. . .
(to Ragueneau, shaking his hands)
Dear brother!
THIRD POET
High soaring eagle among pastry-cooks!
(He sniffs)Marry! it smells good here in your eyrie!
FOURTH POET
'Tis at Phoebus' own rays that thy roasts turn!
FIFTH POET
Apollo among master-cooks--
RAGUENEAU
(whom they surround and embrace)
Ah! how quick a man feels at his ease with them!. . .
FIRST POET
We were stayed by the mob; they are crowded all round the Porte de Nesle!. . .
SECOND POET
Eight bleeding brigand carcasses strew the pavements there--all slit open with sword-gashes!
CYRANO
(raising his head a minute)
Eight?. . .hold, methought seven.
(He goes on writing.)
RAGUENEAU
(to Cyrano)
Know you who might be the hero of the fray?
(carelessly)
Not I.
LISE
(to the musketeer)
And you? Know you?
THE MUSKETEER
(twirling his mustache)
Maybe!
CYRANO
(writing a little way off:--he is heard murmuring a word from time to time)
'I love thee!'
FIRST POET
'Twas one man, say they all, ay, swear to it, one man who, single-handed, put the whole band to the rout!
SECOND POET
'Twas a strange sight!--pikes and cudgels strewed thick upon the ground.
CYRANO
(writing)
. . .'Thine eyes'. . .
THIRD POET
And they were picking up hats all the way to the Quai d'Orfevres!
FIRST POET
Sapristi! but he must have been a ferocious. . .
(same play)
. . .'Thy lips'. . .
FIRST POET
'Twas a parlous fearsome giant that was the author of such exploits!
CYRANO
(same play)
. . .'And when I see thee come, I faint for fear.'
SECOND POET
(filching a cake)
What hast rhymed of late, Ragueneau?
CYRANO
(same play)
. . .'Who worships thee'. . .
(He stops, just as he is about to sign, and gets up, slipping the letter into his doublet)No need I sign, since I give it her myself.
RAGUENEAU
(to second poet)
I have put a recipe into verse.
THIRD POET
(seating himself by a plate of cream-puffs)
Go to! Let us hear these verses!
(looking at a cake which he has taken)
Its cap is all a' one side!
(He makes one bite of the top.)
FIRST POET
See how this gingerbread woos the famished rhymer with its almond eyes, and its eyebrows of angelica!
(He takes it.)
SECOND POET
We listen.
THIRD POET
(squeezing a cream-puff gently)
How it laughs! Till its very cream runs over!
SECOND POET
(biting a bit off the great lyre of pastry)
This is the first time in my life that ever I drew any means of nourishing me from the lyre!
RAGUENEAU
(who has put himself ready for reciting, cleared his throat, settled his cap, struck an attitude)
A recipe in verse!. . .
SECOND POET
(to first, nudging him)
You are breakfasting?
FIRST POET
(to second)
And you dining, methinks.
How almond tartlets are made.
Froth them thick;
Mingle with them while you beat
Juice of lemon, essence fine;
Then combine
The burst milk of almonds sweet.
The slim waist
Of your tartlet-molds; the top
With a skillful finger print,
Nick and dint,
Round their edge, then, drop by drop,
In its little dainty bed
Your cream shed
In the oven place each mold
Reappearing, softly browned,
The renowned
Almond tartlets you behold!
THE POETS
(with mouths crammed full)
Exquisite! Delicious!
A POET
(choking)
Homph!
(They go up, eating.)
CYRANO
(who has been watching, goes toward Ragueneau)
Lulled by your voice, did you see how they were stuffing themselves?
(in a low voice, smiling)
Oh, ay! I see well enough, but I never will seem to look, fearing to distress them; thus I gain a double pleasure when I recite to them my poems; for I leave those poor fellows who have not breakfasted free to eat, even while I gratify my own dearest foible, see you?
CYRANO
(clapping him on the shoulder)
Friend, I like you right well!. . .
(Ragueneau goes after his friends. Cyrano follows him with his eyes, then, rather sharply)Ho there! Lise!
(Lise, who is talking tenderly to the musketeer, starts, and comes down toward Cyrano)So this fine captain is laying siege to you?
LISE
(offended)
One haughty glance of my eye can conquer any man that should dare venture aught 'gainst my virtue.
CYRANO
Pooh! Conquering eyes, methinks, are oft conquered eyes.
LISE
(choking with anger)
But--
CYRANO
(incisively)
I like Ragueneau well, and so--mark me, Dame Lise--I permit not that he be rendered a laughing-stock by any. . .
LISE
But. . .
(who has raised his voice so as to be heard by the gallant)
A word to the wise. . .
(He bows to the musketeer, and goes to the doorway to watch, after looking at the clock.)
LISE
(to the musketeer, who has merely bowed in answer to Cyrano's bow)
How now? Is this your courage?. . .Why turn you not a jest on his nose?
THE MUSKETEER
On his nose?. . .ay, ay. . .his nose.
(He goes quickly farther away; Lise follows him.)
CYRANO
(from the doorway, signing to Ragueneau to draw the poets away)
Hist!. . .
RAGUENEAU
(showing them the door on the right)
We shall be more private there. . .
(impatiently)
Hist! Hist!. . .
RAGUENEAU
(drawing them farther)
To read poetry, 'tis better here. . .
FIRST POET
(despairingly, with his mouth full)
What! leave the cakes?. . .
SECOND POET
Never! Let's take them with us!
(They all follow Ragueneau in procession, after sweeping all the cakes off the trays.)
Scene V.
Cyrano, Roxane, the duenna.CYRANO
Ah! if I see but the faint glimmer of hope, then I draw out my letter!
(Roxane, masked, followed by the duenna, appears at the glass pane of the door. He opens quickly)Enter!. . .
(Walking up to the duenna)Two words with you, Duenna.
THE DUENNA
Four, Sir, an it like you.
Are you fond of sweet things?
THE DUENNA
Ay, I could eat myself sick on them!
CYRANO
(catching up some of the paper bags from the counter)
Good. See you these two sonnets of Monsieur Beuserade. . .
THE DUENNA
Hey?
CYRANO
. . .Which I fill for you with cream cakes!
THE DUENNA
(changing her expression)
Ha.
CYRANO
What say you to the cake they call a little puff?
THE DUENNA
If made with cream, Sir, I love them passing well.
CYRANO
Here I plunge six for your eating into the bosom of a poem by Saint Amant! And in these verses of Chapelain I glide a lighter morsel. Stay, love you hot cakes?
Ay, to the core of my heart!
CYRANO
(filling her arms with the bags)
Pleasure me then; go eat them all in the street.
THE DUENNA
But. . .
CYRANO
(pushing her out)
And come not back till the very last crumb be eaten!
(He shuts the door, comes down toward Roxane, and, uncovering, stands at a respectful distance from her.)
Scene VI.
Cyrano, Roxane.CYRANO
Blessed be the moment when you condescend-- Remembering that humbly I exist-- To come to meet me, and to say. . .to tell?. . .
ROXANE
(who has unmasked)
To thank you first of all. That dandy count, Whom you checkmated in brave sword-play Last night,. . .he is the man whom a great lord, Desirous of my favor. . .
Ha, De Guiche?
ROXANE
(casting down her eyes)
Sought to impose on me. . .for husband. . .
CYRANO
Ay! Husband!--dupe-husband!. . .Husband a la mode!
(Bowing)Then I fought, happy chance! sweet lady, not For my ill favor--but your favors fair!
ROXANE
Confession next!. . .But, ere I make my shrift, You must be once again that brother-friend With whom I used to play by the lake-side!. . .
CYRANO
Ay, you would come each spring to Bergerac!
ROXANE
Mind you the reeds you cut to make your swords?. . .
CYRANO
While you wove corn-straw plaits for your dolls' hair!
ROXANE
Those were the days of games!. . .
CYRANO
And blackberries!. . .
In those days you did everything I bid!. . .
CYRANO
Roxane, in her short frock, was Madeleine. . .
ROXANE
Was I fair then?
CYRANO
You were not ill to see!
ROXANE
Ofttimes, with hands all bloody from a fall, You'd run to me! Then--aping mother-ways-- I, in a voice would-be severe, would chide,--
(She takes his hand)'What is this scratch, again, that I see here?'
(She starts, surprised)Oh! 'Tis too much! What's this?
(Cyrano tries to draw away his hand)No, let me see! At your age, fie! Where did you get that scratch?
CYRANO
I got it--playing at the Porte de Nesle.
ROXANE
(seating herself by the table, and dipping her handkerchief in a glass of water)
Give here!
(sitting by her)
So soft! so gay maternal-sweet!
ROXANE
And tell me, while I wipe away the blood, How many 'gainst you?
CYRANO
Oh! A hundred--near.
ROXANE
Come, tell me!
CYRANO
No, let be. But you, come tell The thing, just now, you dared not. . .
ROXANE
(keeping his hand)
Now, I dare! The scent of those old days emboldens me! Yes, now I dare. Listen. I am in love.
CYRANO
Ah!. . .
ROXANE
But with one who knows not.
CYRANO
Ah!. . .
ROXANE
Not yet.
Ah!. . .
ROXANE
But who, if he knows not, soon shall learn.
CYRANO
Ah!. . .
ROXANE
A poor youth who all this time has loved Timidly, from afar, and dares not speak. . .
CYRANO
Ah!. . .
ROXANE
Leave your hand; why, it is fever-hot!-- But I have seen love trembling on his lips.
CYRANO
Ah!. . .
ROXANE
(bandaging his hand with her handkerchief)
And to think of it! that he by chance-- Yes, cousin, he is of your regiment!
CYRANO
Ah!. . .
ROXANE
(laughing)
--Is cadet in your own company!
CYRANO
Ah!. . .
On his brow he bears the genius-stamp; He is proud, noble, young, intrepid, fair. . .
CYRANO
(rising suddenly, very pale)
Fair!
ROXANE
Why, what ails you?
CYRANO
Nothing; 'tis. . .
(He shows his hand, smiling)This scratch!
ROXANE
I love him; all is said. But you must know I have only seen him at the Comedy. . .
CYRANO
How? You have never spoken?
ROXANE
Eyes can speak.
CYRANO
How know you then that he. . .?
ROXANE
Oh! people talk 'Neath the limes in the Place Royale. . . Gossip's chat Has let me know. . .
He is cadet?
ROXANE
In the Guards.
CYRANO
His name?
ROXANE
Baron Christian de Neuvillette.
CYRANO
How now?. . .He is not of the Guards!
ROXANE
To-day He is not join your ranks, under Captain Carbon de Castel-Jaloux.
CYRANO
Ah, how quick, How quick the heart has flown!. . .But, my poor child. . .
THE DUENNA
(opening the door)
The cakes are eaten, Monsieur Bergerac!
CYRANO
Then read the verses printed on the bags!
(She goes out). . .My poor child, you who love but flowing words, Bright wit,--what if he be a lout unskilled?
No, his bright locks, like D'Urfe's heroes. . .
CYRANO
Ah! A well-curled pate, and witless tongue, perchance!
ROXANE
Ah no! I guess--I feel--his words are fair!
CYRANO
All words are fair that lurk 'neath fair mustache! --Suppose he were a fool!. . .
ROXANE
(stamping her foot)
Then bury me!
CYRANO
(after a pause)
Was it to tell me this you brought me here? I fail to see what use this serves, Madame.
ROXANE
Nay, but I felt a terror, here, in the heart, On learning yesterday you were Gascons All of your company. . .
CYRANO
And we provoke All beardless sprigs that favor dares admit 'Midst us pure Gascons--(pure! Heaven save the mark! They told you that as well?
Ah! Think how I Trembled for him!
CYRANO
(between his teeth) Not causelessly!
ROXANE
But when Last night I saw you,--brave, invincible,-- Punish that dandy, fearless hold your own Against those brutes, I thought--I thought, if he Whom all fear, all--if he would only. . .
CYRANO
Good. I will befriend your little Baron.
ROXANE
Ah! You'll promise me you will do this for me? I've always held you as a tender friend.
CYRANO
Ay, ay.
ROXANE
Then you will be his friend?
CYRANO
I swear!
And he shall fight no duels, promise!
CYRANO
None.
ROXANE
You are kind, cousin! Now I must be gone. (She puts on her mask and veil quickly; then, absently) You have not told me of your last night's fray. Ah, but it must have been a hero-fight!. . . --Bid him to write.
(She sends him a kiss with her fingers)How good you are!
CYRANO
Ay! Ay!
ROXANE
A hundred men against you? Now, farewell.-- We are great friends?
CYRANO
Ay, ay!
ROXANE
Oh, bid him write! You'll tell me all one day--A hundred men!-- Ah, brave!. . .How brave!
CYRANO
(bowing to her)
I have fought better since.
(She goes out. Cyrano stands motionless, with eyes on the ground. A silence. The door (R.) opens. Ragueneau looks in.)
Scene VII.
Cyrano, Ragueneau, poets, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, the cadets, a crowd, then De Guiche.RAGUENEAU
Can we come in?
CYRANO
(without stirring)
Yes. . .
(Ragueneau signs to his friends, and they come in. At the same time, by door at back, enters Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, in Captain's uniform. He makes gestures of surprise on seeing Cyrano.)
CARBON
Here he is!
CYRANO
(raising his head)
Captain!. . .
CARBON
(delightedly)
Our hero! We heard all! Thirty or more Of my cadets are there!. . .
CYRANO
(shrinking back)
But. . .
CARBON
(trying to draw him away)
Come with me! They will not rest until they see you!
No!
CARBON
They're drinking opposite, at The Bear's Head.
CYRANO
I. . .
CARBON
(going to the door and calling across the street in a voice of thunder)
He won't come! The hero's in the sulks!
A VOICE
(outside)
Ah! Sandious!
(Tumult outside. Noise of boots and swords is heard approaching.)
CARBON
(rubbing his hands)
They are running 'cross the street!
CADETS
(entering)
Mille dious! Capdedious! Pocapdedious!
RAGUENEAU
(drawing back startled)
Gentlemen, are you all from Gascony?
THE CADETS
All!
A CADET
(to Cyrano)
Bravo!
Baron!
ANOTHER
(shaking his hands)
Vivat!
CYRANO
Baron!
THIRD CADET
Come! I must embrace you!
CYRANO
Baron!
SEVERAL GASCONS
We'll embrace Him, all in turn!
CYRANO
(not knowing whom to reply to)
Baron!. . .Baron!. . .I beg. . .
RAGUENEAU
Are you all Barons, Sirs?
THE CADETS
Ay, every one!
RAGUENEAU
Is it true?. . .
FIRST CADET
Ay--why, you could build a tower With nothing but our coronets, my friend!
(entering, and running up to Cyrano)
They're looking for you! Here's a crazy mob Led by the men who followed you last night. . .
CYRANO
(alarmed)
What! Have you told them where to find me?
LE BRET
(rubbing his hands)
Yes!
A BURGHER
(entering, followed by a group of men)
Sir, all the Marais is a-coming here!
(Outside the street has filled with people. Chaises a porteurs and carriages have drawn up.)
LE BRET
(in a low voice, smiling, to Cyrano)
And Roxane?
CYRANO
(quickly)
Hush!
THE CROWD
(calling outside)
Cyrano!. . .
(A crowd rush into the shop, pushing one another. Acclamations.)
(standing on a table)
Lo! my shop Invaded! They break all! Magnificent!
PEOPLE
(crowding round Cyrano)
My friend!. . .my friend. . .
Cyrano
Meseems that yesterday I had not all these friends!
LE BRET
(delighted)
Success!
A YOUNG MARQUIS
(hurrying up with his hands held out)
My friend, Didst thou but know. . .
CYRANO
Thou!. . .Marry!. . .thou!. . .Pray when Did we herd swine together, you and I!
ANOTHER
I would present you, Sir, to some fair dames Who in my carriage yonder. . .
CYRANO
(coldly)
Ah! and who Will first present you, Sir, to me?
(astonished)
What's wrong?
CYRANO
Hush!
A MAN OF LETTERS
(with writing-board)
A few details?. . .
CYRANO
No.
LE BRET
(nudging his elbow)
'Tis Theophrast, Renaudet,. . .of the 'Court Gazette'!
CYRANO
Who cares?
LE BRET
This paper--but it is of great importance!. . . They say it will be an immense success!
A POET
(advancing)
Sir. . .
CYRANO
What, another!
THE POET
. . .Pray permit I make A pentacrostic on your name. . .
SOME ONE
(also advancing)
Pray, Sir. . .
Enough! Enough!
(A movement in the crowd. De Guiche appears, escorted by officers. Cuigy, Brissaille, the officers who went with Cyrano the night before. Cuigy comes rapidly up to Cyrano.)
CUIGY
(to Cyrano)
Here is Monsieur de Guiche?
(A murmur--every one makes way)He comes from the Marshal of Gassion!
DE GUICHE
(bowing to Cyrano)
. . .Who would express his admiration, Sir, For your new exploit noised so loud abroad.
THE CROWD
Bravo!
CYRANO
(bowing)
The Marshal is a judge of valor.
DE GUICHE
He could not have believed the thing, unless These gentlemen had sworn they witnessed it.
CUIGY
With our own eyes!
LE BRET
(aside to Cyrano, who has an absent air)
But. . .you. . .
CYRANO
Hush!
But. . .You suffer?
CYRANO
(starting)
Before this rabble?--I?. . .
(He draws himself up, twirls his mustache, and throws back his shoulders)Wait!. . .You shall see!
DE GUICHE
(to whom Cuigy has spoken in a low voice)
In feats of arms, already your career Abounded.--You serve with those crazy pates Of Gascons?
CYRANO
Ay, with the Cadets.
A CADET
(in a terrible voice)
With us!
DE GUICHE
(looking at the cadets, ranged behind Cyrano)
Ah!. . .All these gentlemen of haughty mien, Are they the famous?. . .
CARBON
Cyrano!
CYRANO
Ay, Captain!
CARBON
Since all my company's assembled here, Pray favor me,--present them to my lord!
(making two steps toward De Guiche)
My Lord de Guiche, permit that I present--
(pointing to the cadets)Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux!
Brawling and swaggering boastfully,
The bold Cadets of Gascony!
Spouting of Armory, Heraldry,
Their veins a-brimming with blood so blue,
The bold Cadets of Gascony,
Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux
Fierce mustache, and wolfish tooth!
Slash-the-rabble and scatter-their-ranks;
Eagle-eye and spindle-shanks,
With a flaming feather that gayly pranks,
Hiding the holes in their hats, forsooth!
Eagle-eye and spindle-shanks,
Fierce mustache, and wolfish tooth!
Are their gentlest sobriquets;
With Fame and Glory their soul is drunk!
'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk,'
In brawl and skirmish they show their spunk,
Give rendezvous in broil and fray;
'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk'
Are their gentlest sobriquets!
All jealous lovers are sport for you!
O Woman! dear divinity!
What, ho! Cadets of Gascony!
Blow, 'taratara,' and cry 'Cuckoo.'
What, ho! Cadets of Gascony!
Husbands and lovers are game for you!
DE GUICHE
(seated with haughty carelessness in an armchair brought quickly by Ragueneau)
A poet! 'Tis the fashion of the hour! --Will you be mine?
CYRANO
No, Sir,--no man's!
DE GUICHE
Last night Your fancy pleased my uncle Richelieu. I'll gladly say a word to him for you.
LE BRET
(overjoyed)
Great Heavens!
DE GUICHE
I imagine you have rhymed Five acts, or so?
LE BRET
(in Cyrano's ear)
Your play!--your 'Agrippine!' You'll see it staged at last!
DE GUICHE
Take them to him.
(beginning to be tempted and attracted)
In sooth,--I would. . .
DE GUICHE
He is a critic skilled He may correct a line or two, at most.
CYRANO
(whose face stiffens at once)
Impossible! My blood congeals to think That other hand should change a comma's dot.
DE GUICHE
But when a verse approves itself to him He pays it dear, good friend.
CYRANO
He pays less dear Than I myself; when a verse pleases me I pay myself, and sing it to myself!
DE GUICHE
You are proud.
CYRANO
Really? You have noticed that?
A CADET
(entering, with a string of old battered plumed beaver hats, full of holes, slung on his sword)
See, Cyrano,--this morning, on the quay What strange bright-feathered game we caught! The hats O' the fugitives. . .
'Spolia opima!'
ALL
(laughing)
Ah! ah! ah!
CUIGY
He who laid that ambush, 'faith! Must curse and swear!
BRISSAILLE
Who was it?
DE GUICHE
I myself.
(The laughter stops)I charged them--work too dirty for my sword, To punish and chastise a rhymster sot.
(Constrained silence.)
The CADET
(in a low voice, to Cyrano, showing him the beavers)
What do with them? They're full of grease!--a stew?
CYRANO
(taking the sword and, with a salute, dropping the hats at De Guiche's feet)
Sir, pray be good enough to render them Back to your friends.
DE GUICHE
(rising, sharply)
My chair there--quick!--I go!
(To Cyrano passionately)As to you, sirrah!. . .
(in the street)
Porters for my lord De Guiche!
DE GUICHE
(who has controlled himself--smiling)
Have you read 'Don Quixote'?
CYRANO
I have! And doff my hat at th' mad knight-errant's name.
DE GUICHE
I counsel you to study. . .
A PORTER
(appearing at back)
My lord's chair!
DE GUICHE
. . .The windmill chapter!
CYRANO
(bowing)
Chapter the Thirteenth.
DE GUICHE
For when one tilts 'gainst windmills--it may chance. . .
CYRANO
Tilt I 'gainst those who change with every breeze?
. . .That windmill sails may sweep you with their arm Down--in the mire!. . .
CYRANO
Or upward--to the stars!
(De Guiche goes out, and mounts into his chair. The other lords go away whispering together. Le Bret goes to the door with them. The crowd disperses.)
Scene VIII.
Cyrano, Le Bret, the cadets, who are eating and drinking at the tables right and left.CYRANO
(bowing mockingly to those who go out without daring to salute him)
Gentlemen. . .Gentlemen. . .
LE BRET
(coming back, despairingly)
Here's a fine coil!
CYRANO
Oh! scold away!
LE BRET
At least, you will agree That to annihilate each chance of Fate Exaggerates. . .
CYRANO
Yes!--I exaggerate!
LE BRET
(triumphantly)
Ah!
But for principle--example too,-- I think 'tis well thus to exaggerate.
LE BRET
Oh! lay aside that pride of musketeer, Fortune and glory wait you!. . .
CYRANO
Ay, and then?. . . Seek a protector, choose a patron out, And like the crawling ivy round a tree That licks the bark to gain the trunk's support, Climb high by creeping ruse instead of force? No, grammercy! What! I, like all the rest Dedicate verse to bankers?--play buffoon In cringing hope to see, at last, a smile Not disapproving, on a patron's lips? Grammercy, no! What! learn to swallow toads? --With frame aweary climbing stairs?--a skin Grown grimed and horny,--here, about the knees? And, acrobat-like, teach my back to bend?-- No, grammercy! Or,--double-faced and sly-- Run with the hare, while hunting with the hounds; And, oily-tongued, to win the oil of praise, Flatter the great man to his very nose? No, grammercy! Steal soft from lap to lap, --A little great man in a circle small, Or navigate, with madrigals for sails, Blown gently windward by old ladies' sighs? No, grammercy! Bribe kindly editors To spread abroad my verses? Grammercy! Or try to be elected as the pope Of tavern-councils held by imbeciles?
LE BRET
Alone, an if you will! But not with hand 'Gainst every man! How in the devil's name Have you conceived this lunatic idea, To make foes for yourself at every turn?
By dint of seeing you at every turn Make friends,--and fawn upon your frequent friends With mouth wide smiling, slit from ear to ear! I pass, still unsaluted, joyfully, And cry,--What, ho! another enemy?
LE BRET
Lunacy!
CYRANO
Well, what if it be my vice, My pleasure to displease--to love men hate me! Ah, friend of mine, believe me, I march better 'Neath the cross-fire of glances inimical! How droll the stains one sees on fine-laced doublets, From gall of envy, or the poltroon's drivel! --The enervating friendship which enfolds you Is like an open-laced Italian collar, Floating around your neck in woman's fashion; One is at ease thus,--but less proud the carriage! The forehead, free from mainstay or coercion, Bends here, there, everywhere. But I, embracing Hatred, she lends,--forbidding, stiffly fluted, The ruff's starched folds that hold the head so rigid; Each enemy--another fold--a gopher, Who adds constraint, and adds a ray of glory; For Hatred, like the ruff worn by the Spanish, Grips like a vice, but frames you like a halo!
LE BRET
(after a silence, taking his arm)
Speak proud aloud, and bitter!--In my ear Whisper me simply this,--She loves thee not!
(vehemently)
Hush!
(Christian has just entered, and mingled with the cadets, who do not speak to him; he has seated himself at a table, where Lise serves him.)
Scene IX.
Cyrano, Le Bret, the cadets, Christian de Neuvillette.A CADET
(seated at a table, glass in hand)
Cyrano!
(Cyrano turns round)The story!
CYRANO
In its time!
(He goes up on Le Bret's arm. They talk in low voices.)
THE CADET
(rising and coming down)
The story of the fray! 'Twill lesson well
(He stops before the table where Christian is seated)This timid young apprentice!
CHRISTIAN
(raising his head)
'Prentice! Who?
ANOTHER CADET
This sickly Northern greenhorn!
Sickly!
FIRST CADET
(mockingly)
Hark! Monsieur de Neuvillette, this in your ear There's somewhat here, one no more dares to name, Than to say 'rope' to one whose sire was hanged!
CHRISTIAN
What may that be?
ANOTHER CADET
(in a terrible voice)
See here!
(He puts his finger three times, mysteriously, on his nose)Do you understand?
CHRISTIAN
Oh! 'tis the. . .
ANOTHER
Hush! oh, never breathe that word, Unless you'd reckon with him yonder!
(He points to Cyrano, who is talking with Le Bret.)
ANOTHER
(who has meanwhile come up noiselessly to sit on the table--whispering behind him)
Hark! He put two snuffling men to death, in rage, For the sole reason they spoke through their nose!
(in a hollow voice, darting on all-fours from under the table, where he had crept)
And if you would not perish in flower o' youth, --Oh, mention not the fatal cartilage!
ANOTHER
(clapping him on the shoulder)
A word? A gesture! For the indiscreet His handkerchief may prove his winding-sheet!
(Silence. All, with crossed arms, look at Christian. He rises and goes over to Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, who is talking to an officer, and feigns to see nothing.)
CHRISTIAN
Captain!
CARBON
(turning and looking at him from head to foot)
Sir!
CHRISTIAN
Pray, what skills it best to do To Southerners who swagger?. . .
CARBON
Give them proof That one may be a Northerner, yet brave!
(He turns his back on him.)
CHRISTIAN
I thank you.
FIRST CADET
(to Cyrano)
Now the tale!
The tale!
CYRANO
(coming toward them)
The tale?. . .
(All bring their stools up, and group round him, listening eagerly. Christian is astride a chair)Well! I went all alone to meet the band. The moon was shining, clock-like, full i' th' sky, When, suddenly, some careful clockwright passed A cloud of cotton-wool across the case That held this silver watch. And, presto! heigh! The night was inky black, and all the quays Were hidden in the murky dark. Gadsooks! One could see nothing further. . .
CHRISTIAN
Than one's nose!
(Silence. All slowly rise, looking in terror at Cyrano, who has stopped-- dumfounded. Pause.)
CYRANO
Who on God's earth is that?
A CADET
(whispering)
It is a man Who joined to-day.
CYRANO
(making a step toward Christian)
To-day?
(in a low voice)
Yes. . .his name is The Baron de Neuvil. . .
CYRANO
(checking himself)
Good! It is well. . .
(He turns pale, flushes, makes as if to fall on Christian)I. . .
(He controls himself)What said I?. . .
(With a burst of rage)MORDIOUS!. . .
(Then continues calmly)That it was dark.
(Astonishment. The cadets reseat themselves, staring at him)On I went, thinking, 'For a knavish cause I may provoke some great man, some great prince, Who certainly could break'. . .
CHRISTIAN
My nose!. . .
(Every one starts up. Christian balances on his chair.)
CYRANO
(in a choked voice)
. . .'My teeth! Who would break my teeth, and I, imprudent-like, Was poking. . .'
My nose!. . .
CYRANO
'My finger,. . .in the crack Between the tree and bark! He may prove strong And rap me. . .'
CHRISTIAN
Over the nose. . .
CYRANO
(wiping his forehead)
. . .'O' th' knuckles! Ay,' But I cried, 'Forward, Gascon! Duty calls! On, Cyrano!' And thus I ventured on. . . When, from the shadow, came. . .
CHRISTIAN
A crack o' th' nose.
CYRANO
I parry it--find myself. . .
CHRISTIAN
Nose to nose. . .
CYRANO
(bounding on to him)
Heaven and earth!
(All the Gascons leap up to see, but when he is close to Christian he controls himself and continues). . .With a hundred brawling sots, Who stank. . .
A noseful. . .
CYRANO
(white, but smiling)
Onions, brandy-cups! I leapt out, head well down. . .
CHRISTIAN
Nosing the wind!
CYRANO
I charge!--gore two, impale one--run him through, One aims at me--Paf! and I parry. . .
CHRISTIAN
Pif!
CYRANO
(bursting out)
Great God! Out! all of you!
(The cadets rush to the doors.)
FIRST CADET
The tiger wakes!
CYRANO
Every man, out! Leave me alone with him!
SECOND CADET
We shall find him minced fine, minced into hash In a big pasty!
RAGUENEAU
I am turning pale, And curl up, like a napkin, limp and white!
CARBON
Let us be gone.
He will not leave a crumb!
ANOTHER
I die of fright to think what will pass here!
ANOTHER
(shutting door right)
Something too horrible!
(All have gone out by different doors, some by the staircase. Cyrano and Christian are face to face, looking at each other for a moment.)
Scene X.
Cyrano, Christian.CYRANO
Embrace me now!
CHRISTIAN
Sir. . .
CYRANO
You are brave.
CHRISTIAN
Oh! but. . .
CYRANO
Nay, I insist.
CHRISTIAN
Pray tell me. . .
CYRANO
Come, embrace! I am her brother.
Whose brother?
CYRANO
Hers i' faith! Roxane's!
CHRISTIAN
(rushing up to him)
O heavens! Her brother. . .?
CYRANO
Cousin--brother!. . .the same thing!
CHRISTIAN
And she has told you. . .?
CYRANO
All!
CHRISTIAN
She loves me? say!
CYRANO
Maybe!
CHRISTIAN
(taking his hands)
How glad I am to meet you, Sir!
CYRANO
That may be called a sudden sentiment!
CHRISTIAN
I ask your pardon. . .
CYRANO
(looking at him, with his hand on his shoulder)
True, he's fair, the villain!
Ah, Sir! If you but knew my admiration!. . .
CYRANO
But all those noses?. . .
CHRISTIAN
Oh! I take them back!
CYRANO
Roxane expects a letter.
CHRISTIAN
Woe the day!
CYRANO
How?
CHRISTIAN
I am lost if I but ope my lips!
CYRANO
Why so?
CHRISTIAN
I am a fool--could die for shame!
CYRANO
None is a fool who knows himself a fool. And you did not attack me like a fool.
CHRISTIAN
Bah! One finds battle-cry to lead th' assault! I have a certain military wit, But, before women, can but hold my tongue. Their eyes! True, when I pass, their eyes are kind. . .
And, when you stay, their hearts, methinks, are kinder?
CHRISTIAN
No! for I am one of those men--tongue-tied, I know it--who can never tell their love.
CYRANO
And I, meseems, had Nature been more kind, More careful, when she fashioned me,--had been One of those men who well could speak their love!
CHRISTIAN
Oh, to express one's thoughts with facile grace!. . .
CYRANO
. . .To be a musketeer, with handsome face!
CHRISTIAN
Roxane is precieuse. I'm sure to prove A disappointment to her!
CYRANO
(looking at him)
Had I but Such an interpreter to speak my soul!
CHRISTIAN
(with despair)
Eloquence! Where to find it?
CYRANO
(abruptly)
That I lend, If you lend me your handsome victor-charms; Blended, we make a hero of romance!
How so?
CYRANO
Think you you can repeat what things I daily teach your tongue?
CHRISTIAN
What do you mean?
CYRANO
Roxane shall never have a disillusion! Say, wilt thou that we woo her, double-handed? Wilt thou that we two woo her, both together? Feel'st thou, passing from my leather doublet, Through thy laced doublet, all my soul inspiring?
CHRISTIAN
But, Cyrano!. . .
CYRANO
Will you, I say?
CHRISTIAN
I fear!
CYRANO
Since, by yourself, you fear to chill her heart, Will you--to kindle all her heart to flame-- Wed into one my phrases and your lips?
CHRISTIAN
Your eyes flash!
CYRANO
Will you?
Will it please you so? --Give you such pleasure?
CYRANO
(madly)
It!. . .
(Then calmly, business-like)It would amuse me! It is an enterprise to tempt a poet. Will you complete me, and let me complete you? You march victorious,--I go in your shadow; Let me be wit for you, be you my beauty!
CHRISTIAN
The letter, that she waits for even now! I never can. . .
CYRANO
(taking out the letter he had written)
See! Here it is--your letter!
CHRISTIAN
What?
CYRANO
Take it! Look, it wants but the address.
CHRISTIAN
But I. . .
CYRANO
Fear nothing. Send it. It will suit.
CHRISTIAN
But have you. . .?
Oh! We have our pockets full, We poets, of love-letters, writ to Chloes, Daphnes--creations of our noddle-heads. Our lady-loves,--phantasms of our brains, --Dream-fancies blown into soap-bubbles! Come! Take it, and change feigned love-words into true; I breathed my sighs and moans haphazard-wise; Call all these wandering love-birds home to nest. You'll see that I was in these lettered lines, --Eloquent all the more, the less sincere! --Take it, and make an end!
CHRISTIAN
Were it not well To change some words? Written haphazard-wise, Will it fit Roxane?
CYRANO
'Twill fit like a glove!
CHRISTIAN
But. . .
CYRANO
Ah, credulity of love! Roxane Will think each word inspired by herself!
CHRISTIAN
My friend!
(He throws himself into Cyrano's arms. They remain thus.)
Scene XI.
Cyrano, Christian, the Gascons, the musketeer, Lise.A CADET
(half opening the door)
Naught here!. . .The silence of the grave! I dare not look. . .
(He puts his head in)Why?. . .
ALL THE CADETS
(entering, and seeing Cyrano and Christian embracing)
Oh!. . .
A CADET
This passes all!
(Consternation.)
THE MUSKETEER
(mockingly)
Ho, ho!. . .
CARBON
Our demon has become a saint? Struck on one nostril--lo! he turns the other!
MUSKETEER
Then we may speak about his nose, henceforth!. . .
(Calling to Lise, boastfully)--Ah, Lise, see here!
(Sniffing ostentatiously)O heavens!. . .what a stink!. . .
You, sir, without a doubt have sniffed it up! --What is the smell I notice here?
CYRANO
(cuffing his head)
Clove-heads.
(General delight. The cadets have found the old Cyrano again! They turn somersaults.)
Curtain.
| Cyrano de Bergerac: A Play in Five Acts | |