 | Cyrano de Bergerac: A Play in Five Acts |  |
Scene V.
Roxane, Cyrano and, for a moment, Sister Martha.ROXANE
(without turning round)
What was I saying?. . .
(She embroiders. Cyrano, very pale, his hat pulled down over his eyes, appears. The sister who had announced him retires. He descends the steps slowly, with a visible difficulty in holding himself upright, bearing heavily on his cane. Roxane still works at her tapestry)Time has dimmed the tints. . . How harmonize them now?
(To Cyrano, with playful reproach)For the first time Late!--For the first time, all these fourteen years!
CYRANO
(who has succeeded in reaching the chair, and has seated himself--in a lively voice, which is in great contrast with his pale face)
Ay! It is villainous! I raged--was stayed. . .
ROXANE
By?. . .
By a bold, unwelcome visitor.
ROXANE
(absently, working)
Some creditor?
CYRANO
Ay, cousin,--the last creditor Who has a debt to claim from me.
ROXANE
And you Have paid it?
CYRANO
No, not yet! I put it off; --Said, 'Cry you mercy; this is Saturday, When I have get a standing rendezvous That naught defers. Call in an hour's time!'
ROXANE
(carelessly)
Oh, well, a creditor can always wait! I shall not let you go ere twilight falls.
CYRANO
Haply, perforce, I quit you ere it falls!
(He shuts his eyes, and is silent for a moment. Sister Martha crosses the park from the chapel to the flight of steps. Roxane, seeing her, signs to her to approach.)
ROXANE
(to Cyrano)
How now? You have not teased the Sister?
(hastily opening his eyes)
True!
(In a comically loud voice)Sister! come here!
(The sister glides up to him)Ha! ha! What? Those bright eyes Bent ever on the ground?
SISTER MARTHA
(who makes a movement of astonishment on seeing his face)
Oh!
CYRANO
(in a whisper, pointing to Roxane)
Hush! 'tis naught!--
(Loudly, in a blustering voice)I broke fast yesterday!
SISTER MARTHA
(aside)
I know, I know! That's how he is so pale! Come presently To the refectory, I'll make you drink A famous bowl of soup. . .You'll come?
CYRANO
Ay, ay!
SISTER MARTHA
There, see! You are more reasonable to-day!
(who hears them whispering)
The Sister would convert you?
SISTER MARTHA
Nay, not I!
CYRANO
Hold! but it's true! You preach to me no more, You, once so glib with holy words! I am Astonished!. . .
(With burlesque fury)Stay, I will surprise you too! Hark! I permit you. . .
(He pretends to be seeking for something to tease her with, and to have found it). . .It is something new!-- To--pray for me, to-night, at chapel-time!
ROXANE
Oh! oh!
CYRANO
(laughing)
Good Sister Martha is struck dumb!
SISTER MARTHA
(gently)
I did not wait your leave to pray for you.
(She goes out.)
CYRANO
(turning to Roxane, who is still bending over her work)
That tapestry! Beshrew me if my eyes Will ever see it finished!
I was sure To hear that well-known jest!
(A light breeze causes the leaves to fall.)
CYRANO
The autumn leaves!
ROXANE
(lifting her head, and looking down the distant alley)
Soft golden brown, like a Venetian's hair. --See how they fall!
CYRANO
Ay, see how brave they fall, In their last journey downward from the bough, To rot within the clay; yet, lovely still, Hiding the horror of the last decay, With all the wayward grace of careless flight!
ROXANE
What, melancholy--you?
CYRANO
(collecting himself)
Nay, nay, Roxane!
ROXANE
Then let the dead leaves fall the way they will. . . And chat. What, have you nothing new to tell, My Court Gazette?
CYRANO
Listen.
ROXANE
Ah!
(growing whiter and whiter)
Saturday The nineteenth: having eaten to excess Of pear-conserve, the King felt feverish; The lancet quelled this treasonable revolt, And the august pulse beats at normal pace. At the Queen's ball on Sunday thirty score Of best white waxen tapers were consumed. Our troops, they say, have chased the Austrians. Four sorcerers were hanged. The little dog Of Madame d'Athis took a dose. . .
ROXANE
I bid You hold your tongue, Monsieur de Bergerac!
CYRANO
Monday--not much--Claire changed protector.
ROXANE
Oh!
CYRANO
(whose face changes more and more)
Tuesday, the Court repaired to Fontainebleau. Wednesday, the Montglat said to Comte de Fiesque. . . No! Thursday--Mancini, Queen of France! (almost!) Friday, the Monglat to Count Fiesque said--'Yes!' And Saturday the twenty-sixth. . .
(He closes his eyes. His head falls forward. Silence.)
(surprised at his voice ceasing, turns round, looks at him, and rising, terrified)
He swoons!
(She runs toward him crying)Cyrano!
CYRANO
(opening his eyes, in an unconcerned voice)
What is this?
(He sees Roxane bending over him, and, hastily pressing his hat on his head, and shrinking back in his chair)Nay, on my word 'Tis nothing! Let me be!
ROXANE
But. . .
CYRANO
That old wound Of Arras, sometimes,--as you know. . .
ROXANE
Dear friend!
CYRANO
'Tis nothing, 'twill pass soon;
(He smiles with an effort)See!--it has passed!
ROXANE
Each of us has his wound; ay, I have mine,-- Never healed up--not healed yet, my old wound! (She puts her hand on her breast)
(Twilight begins to fall.)
CYRANO
His letter! Ah! you promised me one day That I should read it.
ROXANE
What would you?--His letter?
CYRANO
Yes, I would fain,--to-day. . .
ROXANE
(giving the bag hung at her neck)
See! here it is!
CYRANO
(taking it)
Have I your leave to open?
ROXANE
Open--read!
(She comes back to her tapestry frame, folds it up, sorts her wools.)
CYRANO
(reading)
'Roxane, adieu! I soon must die! This very night, beloved; and I Feel my soul heavy with love untold. I die! No more, as in days of old, My loving, longing eyes will feast On your least gesture--ay, the least!
ROXANE
But how you read that letter! One would think. . .
CYRANO
(continuing to read)
'My life, my love, my jewel, my sweet, My heart has been yours in every beat!'
(The shades of evening fall imperceptibly.)
ROXANE
You read in such a voice--so strange--and yet-- It is not the first time I hear that voice!
(She comes nearer very softly, without his perceiving it, passes behind his chair, and, noiselessly leaning over him, looks at the letter. The darkness deepens.)
CYRANO
'Here, dying, and there, in the land on high, I am he who loved, who loves you,--I. . .'
ROXANE
(putting her hand on his shoulder)
How can you read? It is too dark to see!
(He starts, turns, sees her close to him. Suddenly alarmed, he holds his head down. Then in the dusk, which has now completely enfoldedAnd, fourteen years long, he has played this part Of the kind old friend who comes to laugh and chat.
CYRANO
Roxane!
ROXANE
'Twas you!
CYRANO
No, never; Roxane, no!
ROXANE
I should have guessed, each time he said my name!
CYRANO
No, it was not I!
ROXANE
It was you!
CYRANO
I swear!
ROXANE
I see through all the generous counterfeit-- The letters--you!
CYRANO
No.
ROXANE
The sweet, mad love-words! You!
CYRANO
No!
The voice that thrilled the night--you, you!
CYRANO
I swear you err.
ROXANE
The soul--it was your soul!
CYRANO
I loved you not.
ROXANE
You loved me not?
CYRANO
'Twas he!
ROXANE
You loved me!
CYRANO
No!
ROXANE
See! how you falter now!
CYRANO
No, my sweet love, I never loved you!
ROXANE
Ah! Things dead, long dead, see! how they rise again! --Why, why keep silence all these fourteen years, When, on this letter, which he never wrote, The tears were your tears?
(holding out the letter to her)
The bloodstains were his.
ROXANE
Why, then, that noble silence,--kept so long-- Broken to-day for the first time--why?
CYRANO
Why?. . .
(Le Bret and Ragueneau enter running.)
| Cyrano de Bergerac: A Play in Five Acts | |