Cyrano de Bergerac: An Heroic Comedy in Five Acts
Part 2
CYRANO DE BERGERAC MR. COQUELIN. CHRISTIAN DE NEUVILLETTE MR. VOLNY. COUNT DE GUICHE MR. DESJARDINS. RAGUENEAU MR. JEAN COQUELIN. LE BRET MR. CASTILLAN. CAPTAIN CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL[1] MR. GRAVIER. { MR. PERICAUD. { MR. DEMEY. { MR. NOIZEUX. CADETS OF GASCONY { MR. TERVAL. { MR. KIRTAL. { MR. ARMAND. { MR. HOSSARD. LIGNIÈRE MR. REBEL. DE VALVERT MR. NICOLINI. A MARQUIS MR. WALTER. SECOND MARQUIS MR. LAUMONIER. THIRD MARQUIS MR. HEMERY. MONTFLEURY MR. PERICAUD. BELLEROSE MR. DAVRIL. JODELET MR. CARTEREAU. CUIGY MR. GODEAU. BRISSAILLE MR. BORGES. AN INTRUDER MR. PERSON. A MUSKETEER MR. CARLIT. SECOND MUSKETEER MR. DURAND. A SPANISH OFFICER MR. ALBERT. A CAVALRYMAN MR. DOUBLEAU. THE JANITOR MR. JOURDAN. A TRADESMAN MR. LOISEAU. TRADESMAN'S SON MR. BOURGEOIS. A SPECTATOR MR. SAMSON. A GUARD MR. DANNEQUIN. BERTRANDOU, THE FIFE-PLAYER MR. G. MONPEURT. A CAPUCHIN MONK MR. RAVART. TWO MUSICIANS { MR. GASTON HENRY. { MR. DAMON. { MR. WILLIAMS. THE POETS { MR. LEROY. { ETC. { MR. MALLET. THE PASTRY-COOKS { MR. BERCHA. { ETC.
ROXANE MME. MARIE LEGAULT. SISTER MARTHA MME. ESQUILAR. LISE MME. BLANCHE MIROIR. WAITING-GIRL MME. KERWICH. MOTHER MARGARET OF JESUS MME. BOUCHETAL. THE DUENNA MME. BOURGEOIS. SISTER CLAIRE MME. PANNETIER. A COMEDIENNE MME. LUCINNE. A LADY'S MAID MME. VARENNES. { MME. MARTHE MARTY. THE PAGES { MME. LOISIER. { MME. BERTHA. { ETC. THE FLOWER-GIRL
The people, tradesmen, musketeers, thieves and pickpockets, pastry-cooks, poets, Gascon cadets, comedians, violin-players, pages, children, Spanish soldiers, spectators of both sexes, euphuistic ladies ("précieuses,") comediennes, tradeswomen, nuns, etc.
(_The first four acts in 1640; the fifth in 1655._)
[1] Note. As to translation of the name Carbon de Castel-Jaloux (such _was_ the name of Cyrano's captain) see note page 77.
CYRANO DE BERGERAC.
_ACT I._
A PERFORMANCE AT THE HOTEL DE BOURGOGNE THEATRE.
_The interior of the Hotel de Bourgogne Theatre, in 1640. A sort of Racket-Court arranged and decorated in view of performances. The auditorium is a long square. It runs diagonally, and forms the background, one of its sides beginning at first entrance, right, and ending at last entrance, left, where it forms a right angle with the stage, that is thus seen canted. On each side of this stage, benches along the wings. The curtain is in two pieces of tapestry, that can be drawn apart. Above the proscenium, the royal arms. Wide steps lead from the stage to the auditorium. On either side of these steps, seats for the violin-players. Foot-lights composed of candles._
_Two galleries, one above the other, running along the side of the auditorium (that forms the diagonal background). The upper gallery is divided into boxes. No seats in the pit. In the rear of this pit, really front first entrance right, a few benches in tiers. Under a staircase leading to the galleries, and only the lower part of which can be seen, a refreshment side-board bearing lights, flowers, glasses, plates of cakes, decanters, etc._
_In the rear, centre, under the galleries, the entrance to the house. A wide door, half opened now and then to admit the audience. Near this door, as well as near the side-board and in other places, red posters giving the name of the play about to be performed: "La Clorise."_
_As the curtain rises, the house is empty and rather dark._
_The chandeliers have been lowered into the pit, but are not yet lighted._
_SCENE I._
_The audience enters gradually. Gentlemen, tradesmen, lackeys, pages, pickpockets, the janitor, etc._ THE MARQUISES, CUIGY, BRISSAILLE, _the waiting girl, the violins, etc._
_Noise outside the door, then a gentleman bursts in._
THE JANITOR (_pursuing him_).
Here! Your fifteen sols!
THE GENTLEMAN.
I pay nothing for admission.
THE JANITOR.
Why so?
THE GENTLEMAN.
King's guard!
THE JANITOR (_to another gentleman just come in_).
You, Sir?
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
Free admission.
THE JANITOR.
But ....
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
Musketeer!
FIRST GENTLEMAN (_to second gentleman_).
It's not two o'clock yet, and the pit is empty. Suppose we fence a bit?
(_They begin fencing with foils they have brought along._)
A LACKEY (_entering_).
Pst----Flanquin!
ANOTHER LACKEY (_just in_).
Hallo, Champagne!
FIRST LACKEY (_taking cards and dice from out his doublet_).
Cards? Dice? Let's play.
(_Seats himself on the floor._)
SECOND LACKEY.
Certainly, you rascal.
(_Takes a candle out of his pocket, lights it, and after seating himself near first lackey, plants it on the floor._)
GUARD (_taking flower-girl by the waist_).
How sweet in you to come before the lights do!
ONE OF THE FENCERS.
Touched!
ONE OF THE CARD-PLAYERS.
Clubs!
GUARD (_to flower-girl trying to escape_).
A kiss!
A MAN (_sitting on the floor, with a basket of provisions_).
I come early, so as to eat in peace. A knowing fellow, when he is at the Hôtel de Bourgogne, should drink his Burgundy. (_Drinks._)
TRADESMAN (_to his son_).
It's as bad as a low tavern.--(_Showing the man drinking_): Drunkards!--(_One of the fencers backs up against him_): Cut throats!--(_He is pushed on to the card-players_): Gamblers!
GUARD (_still pursuing the flower-girl_).
A kiss!
TRADESMAN (_hearing him_).
And worse!--For shame! To think that walls like these, my son, have seen the plays of Rotrou!
THE SON.
And Corneille's!
A TROOP OF PAGES (_coming in, dancing and singing, holding each other by the hand, so as to form a string_).
Tra la la la la la la la la la la lère!....
JANITOR (_to Pages severely_).
No practical jokes, mind!
FIRST PAGE (_with great dignity_).
Sir, your suspicion is an offense!....
SECOND PAGE (_to first Page_).
I have some string. Haven't you a fish-hook?
FIRST PAGE.
Of course I have! We can do some fine angling from up stairs.
(_To the other Pages who are already in the gallery_).
We're coming!
THIRD PAGE (_in gallery_).
We're ready! (_Blows dried peas at him through hollow stick._)
A PICKPOCKET (_drawing around him some suspicious-looking characters_).
Now, youngsters, try to learn something. You see, the first time you steal....
(_Driven away by dried peas blown in showers by the Pages above._)
TRADESMAN (_to his son_).
The play we are going to see: "La Clorise" ....
SON.
The author, please?
TRADESMAN.
Balthazar Baro.
PICKPOCKET (_continuing his instructions_).
Mind the lace around the knees![2] How you cut it!
TRADESMAN (_to his son_).
I was at the first performance of "Le Cid,"--(_pointing up_)--There!
PICKPOCKET.
As to watches.... and kerchiefs....
TRADESMAN.
You are going, my son, to see illustrious actors. (_Enumerating_) Montfleury!
THE PAGES.
Light the chandeliers!
WAITING-GIRL (_offering her refreshments_).
Oranges! Milk! Raspberry water! Cedar water!
A MARQUIS (_entering_).
Make way there, fellows!
A LACKEY.
What! a Marquis in the pit!
MARQUIS (_to other Marquises who have followed him in_).
The house is empty! Why, we enter like tradesmen, disturbing nobody, treading on nobody's toes! Disgraceful!
(_Meeting other noblemen just come in_).
Cuigy! Brissaille!
(_They salute and embrace each other with great affectation._)
CUIGY.
Patrons of art so faithful, yes, that we get here even before the candles are lighted!
MARQUIS.
Do not mention it! I'm terribly out of humour!
CUIGY (_seeing lamplighter enter_).
Be consoled! Here is the lamplighter.
ALL THE HOUSE (_satisfied_).
Ah....
(_Groups around the chandeliers while they are being lighted. Lignière enters the pit, leaning on the arm of Christian de Neuvillette. Lignière, somewhat untidy, has the appearance of a gentlemanly drunkard. Christian, dressed with care, but somewhat out of fashion, seems thoughtful, and examines the boxes._)
[2] NOTE. "La dentelle des canons."--"Canons" were ornamental lace, embroidery or ribbons around the lower edge of knee-breeches.--Not, as one translation has it: "the canonical gentlemen's lace."
_SCENE II._
_The same_, CHRISTIAN, LIGNIÈRE, _then_ RAGUENEAU _and_ LE BRET.
CUIGY.
Why, here's Lignière!
BRISSAILLE (_laughing_).
And not yet drunk?....
LIGNIÈRE (_aside to Christian_).
Shall I present you?
(_Christian nods assent. Lignière presents._)
Baron de Neuvillette.
(_General salutations._)
THE AUDIENCE (_as the first chandelier goes up_).
Ah!....
CUIGY (_to Brissaille, looking at Christian_).
A beautiful head!
FIRST MARQUIS (_who has overheard_).
Oh! so, so!....
LIGNIÈRE (_presenting to Christian_).
Mr. de Cuigy, Mr. de Brissaille.
CHRISTIAN (_bowing_).
Delighted!
FIRST MARQUIS (_to second_).
He is good looking, but not dressed according to the latest fashion.
LIGNIÈRE (_to Cuigy_).
Baron de Neuvillette has just arrived from Touraine.
CHRISTIAN.
Yes, I've been in Paris only a few days. To-morrow I join the guards, the Cadets.
FIRST MARQUIS (_looking up to the boxes_).
There is the wife of President Aubry.
THE WAITING-GIRL.
Oranges, milk ....
THE VIOLINS (_tuning_).
La, la, la, la, la.
CUIGY (_to Christian, looking around_).
Quite an assemblage!
CHRISTIAN.
Yes, indeed!
FIRST MARQUIS.
The cream of fashion.
(_He seems to give the names of the different ladies who occupy the boxes, in full dress. Bows, nods, answers, smiles._)
SECOND MARQUIS.
Mesdames de Guéménée....
CUIGY.
De Bois-Dauphin....
FIRST MARQUIS.
Whom we loved ....
BRISSAILLE.
De Chavigny ....
SECOND MARQUIS.
For whom our hearts are toys!
LIGNIÈRE.
There is Monsieur de Corneille, just from Rouen.
TRADESMAN'S SON (_to his father_).
The Academy is here?....
TRADESMAN.
I see several of its members. Here are Boudu, Boissat, Cureau de la Chambre, Porchères, Colomby, Bourzeys, Bourdon, Arbaud .... So many names that can never die! How grand!
FIRST MARQUIS.
Attention! here are our lovely "précieuses,"[3] they of wondrous names: Barthénoïde, Urimédonte, Cassandace, Félixérie ....
SECOND MARQUIS.
Delightful names! Marquis, you know them all?
FIRST MARQUIS.
I know them all, Marquis.
LIGNIÈRE (_aside to Christian_).
I came in to do you service. The lady comes not. So I return to my tavern.
CHRISTIAN (_imploringly_).
Do not. You, who in your songs depict both town and court, can tell me the name of one for whom I am dying of love. Remain!
(_The violins begin to play._)
I fear she may be something of a coquette and too subtle in her refinement. I dare not speak to her, for my wit is dull and the language of to-day confuses me. I am but a good soldier. She generally occupies that box to the right--that empty one.
LIGNIÈRE (_as if to leave_).
I must go.
CHRISTIAN (_holding him_).
Remain, please.
LIGNIÈRE.
I cannot. D'Assoucy expects me at the tavern. One might die of thirst here.
WAITING-GIRL (_passing_).
Lemonade!
LIGNIÈRE.
Fie!
WAITING-GIRL.
Milk!
LIGNIÈRE.
Ugh!
WAITING-GIRL.
Wine!
LIGNIÈRE.
(_to Christian_). (_to waiting-girl_).
I'll stay a while. Let me taste your wine.
(_Takes a seat near the buffet. Waiting-girl serves wine to him._)
SHOUTS IN THE AUDIENCE (_on the entrance of a short, plump and jovial looking man_).
Here's Ragueneau!
LIGNIÈRE (_to Christian_).
The celebrated poulterer and pastry-cook!
RAGUENEAU (_in his best pastry-cook clothes, going up to Lignière_).
Sir, have you seen Monsieur de Cyrano?
LIGNIÈRE (_presenting Ragueneau to Christian_).
The caterer of comedians and poets!
RAGUENEAU (_bowing low_).
Flattered, indeed!....
LIGNIÈRE.
Come, come, you Mæcenas!
RAGUENEAU.
They honour me with their custom ....
LIGNIÈRE.
But seldom pay. A good poet himself ....
RAGUENEAU.
They say so.
LIGNIÈRE.
Enthusiastic for verse!
RAGUENEAU.
The fact is that for a short poem ....
LIGNIÈRE.
You willingly give a pie.
RAGUENEAU.
A small tart only!
LIGNIÈRE.
Good fellow, he excuses himself!.... And for a triolet did you not give ....
RAGUENEAU.
Only a few rolls!
LIGNIÈRE (_sternly_).
Milk-rolls!.... And the stage? You like it?
RAGUENEAU.
I love it.
LIGNIÈRE.
And you buy your way in with your cakes.
RAGUENEAU.
Oh, so few! (_Looking around._) But I am surprised not to see Monsieur de Cyrano!
LIGNIÈRE.
Why so?
RAGUENEAU.
Because Montfleury plays!
LIGNIÈRE.
That talking hogshead? True. To-night he plays Phédon. But what cares Cyrano?
RAGUENEAU.
Don't you know? Monsieur de Cyrano has taken an aversion for him, and, gentlemen, has forbidden him to appear on the stage for a whole month.
LIGNIÈRE (_emptying his fourth glass_).
Well, then?
RAGUENEAU.
Oh! I only came to see what is going to happen.
FIRST MARQUIS (_who has come up meanwhile with Cuigy_).
Who is this Cyrano?
CUIGY.
A capital swordsman.
SECOND MARQUIS.
Of noble birth?
CUIGY.
Sufficiently so. He is a cadet in the guards.
(_Indicating a gentleman who appears to be seeking somebody._)
But here's his friend Le Bret....
(_Calling_) Le Bret! (_Le Bret comes down._)
You are looking for Bergerac?
LE BRET.
Yes, and with some anxiety....
CUIGY.
Am I not right in stating that he is no ordinary man?
LE BRET (_moved_).
He is the most exquisite of creatures sublunary.
RAGUENEAU.
A rimester!
CUIGY.
A swordsman!
BRISSAILLE.
A scientist!
LE BRET.
A musician!
LIGNIÈRE.
But how strange is his appearance!
RAGUENEAU.
No solemn painter, like Philip de Champaigne, probably, will ever give us a portrait of him. But he is so odd, extravagant, wild and strange, that he could well have served Jacques Callot as a model for the most erratic of his fighting heroes. Three-plumed hat, astounding doublet, cloak whose folds a sword draws up behind, in stateliness, like the saucy tail of a cock.[4] Prouder than the proudest of Gascony's numberless haughty sons, he wears, above his Pulcinella ruff, a nose!.... Ah! mylords, what a nose is that nose! It is impossible, in presence of such a nose-bearer[5] not to think: "This, really, is exaggeration!" Then you will smile, and think: "Of course, he'll take it off." But Monsieur de Bergerac never takes it off.
LE BRET.
Never--but whoever notices that nose he wears is sure to get a swordthrust for the attention.
RAGUENEAU.
His sword is one of the two blades of the fatal sisters' scissors!
FIRST MARQUIS (_shrugging his shoulders_).
He will not come.
RAGUENEAU.
Oh! yes, he will. I'll bet.... a chicken....à la Ragueneau.
(_Murmurs of admiration as Roxane appears in her box, where she takes a seat in front, while her duenna sits behind her. Christian, busy paying the waiter-girl, does not notice her entrance._)
SECOND MARQUIS (_affectedly_).
Oh! gentlemen, she is frightfully lovely!
FIRST MARQUIS.
A peach divine, smiling in a nest of strawberries.[6]
SECOND MARQUIS.
So refreshing that she might give one a cold in the heart!
CHRISTIAN (_perceiving Roxane, and clutching Lignière's arm_).
It's she!
LIGNIÈRE (_looking up_).
So this is your deity!
CHRISTIAN.
Yes, speak quickly. I tremble.
LIGNIÈRE (_slowly sipping his wine_).
Magdeleine Robin, otherwise Roxane. Refined and quick. A "précieuse."
CHRISTIAN.
Alas!
LIGNIÈRE.
Independent. An orphan. Cousin of Cyrano, whom you heard mentioned just now.
(_A gentleman, very finely dressed, wearing a blue ribbon crosswise from shoulder to waist, enters the box, and remains engaged in conversation with Roxane._)
CHRISTIAN (_starting_).
That man?....
LIGNIÈRE (_slightly intoxicated, winking_).
Ha, ha! The Count de Guiche. Very much in love with her. But he is the husband of Richelieu's niece. And he is urging Roxane to marry rather a sorry fellow, Monsieur de Valvert, who is both of noble birth and.... accommodating. She resists, but Guiche has influence. I wrote a song on the subject. No doubt he bears me a grudge for it. The end is cutting. Just listen:
(_He rises, holding up his glass, ready to sing._)
CHRISTIAN.
No, stop.--I must leave.
LIGNIÈRE.
And you are going?....
CHRISTIAN.
To seek this Valvert.
LIGNIÈRE.
Take care. Perhaps it's he that might kill you. (_Indicating Roxane._) See! she is looking at you.
CHRISTIAN.
True. (_He remains, looking up as if transfixed. The pickpockets get close around him._)
LIGNIÈRE.
'Tis I who leave. I'm thirsty and I must be expected--in some tavern!
(_Exit unsteadily._)
LE BRET (_who has been walking, to Ragueneau_).
I feel relieved. Cyrano has not come.
RAGUENEAU (_incredulous_).
I'd be astonished....
THE AUDIENCE.
The play! The play! The play!
[3] Query.--Might it not be argued that the "précieuses" were perhaps spiritual daughters of the _euphuists_, disciples of John Lyly, who flourished in England under Queen Elizabeth, about half a century before the time of action here?
[4] Note.--Not "an insolent cocktail," as one translation has it.
[5] Note.--Literal translation of "nasigère," a word invented by Ragueneau, would be euphuist.
[6] Note.--The play on the word "fraise" (both "strawberry" and "ruff") could not be reproduced.
_SCENE III._
_The same, except_ LIGNIÈRE; GUICHE, VALVERT, _then_ MONTFLEURY.
SECOND MARQUIS (_seeing Guiche, as he comes from Roxane's box, crossing the pit, surrounded with fawning friends, among whom Valvert_).
Guiche! Ff! Another Gascon!
FIRST MARQUIS.
Yes, of the cool and supple breed, the one that thrives. We had better greet him, believe me.
(_Both go up to meet Guiche. General salutations._)
SECOND MARQUIS.
Beautiful ribbons! What colour, Count? "Kiss-me-darling," or "roe's-breast?"
GUICHE.
Colour? "Sickly-Spaniard."
FIRST MARQUIS.
The colour is fast and true; for soon, thanks to your valor, the Spaniard will be worse than uneasy in Flanders!
GUICHE.
I am going to my seat on the stage. Are you coming?
(_He and his followers walk up on to the stage. Guiche turns and calls._)
Come along, Valvert!
CHRISTIAN (_who has heard, starting_).
That viscount! Now I'll fling at him!....
(_Puts his hand to his pocket and finds there the hand of a thief._)
(_holding on to the pickpocket_).
I was looking for a glove!
PICKPOCKET (_smiling_).
And you find a hand. (_Aside and rapidly._) Let me go and I'll tell you a secret.
CHRISTIAN (_still holding him_).
What secret?
PICKPOCKET.
Lignière, who has just left you, is going to his death. A song of his gave offence to.... some great man, and one hundred men, I know it, will lie in wait for him to-night....
CHRISTIAN (_still holding on_).
One hundred! Paid by whom?
PICKPOCKET.
Discretion....
CHRISTIAN (_shrugging his shoulders_).
Oh!
PICKPOCKET (_with great dignity_).
Professional discretion....
CHRISTIAN.
Where?
PICKPOCKET.
At the Porte de Nesle, his way home. Warn him in time.
CHRISTIAN (_freeing the pickpocket_).
Where can I find Lignière?
PICKPOCKET.
In one of the taverns near here: "The Golden Wine-Press," "The Fir-Cone," "The Bursting-Belt," "The Two Torches," "The Three Funnels." Go the rounds and leave a note in each.
CHRISTIAN.
I'll do it! The wretches! A hundred men against one! (_Looking up toward Roxane._) But to leave her! (_With a look of fury toward Valvert._) And him! But I must save Lignière!
(_He rushes out. Guiche and his followers have gone on to the stage behind the curtain, to take their seats. The pit is full; so are the galleries and boxes._)
THE AUDIENCE.
The play! The play! Curtain!
TRADESMAN (_whose wig flies up hooked by one of the pages above_).
My wig! (_Shaking his fist at the pages._) Scoundrels!
(_All the audience laughs. Sudden silence._)
LE BRET (_astonished_).
What is it?
TRADESMAN (_near Le Bret_).
The Cardinal.... there.... in a screened box.
A PAGE.
Good-bye, fun! (_Raps on the stage. Order in the audience. Wait._)
A MARQUIS (_behind the curtain, during silence_).
Snuff that candle!
OTHER MARQUIS (_passing through the split in the curtain_).
A chair, please!
(_A chair is passed, from hand to hand, over the heads of the audience. The marquis takes it and disappears behind the curtain, after sending a few kisses up into the boxes._)
(_Three raps on the stage. Curtain is drawn aside. Tableau. Marquises seated on either side of the stage, in impertinent attitudes. Drop represents a bluish pastoral scene. Low music by the violins._)
LE BRET (_aside to Ragueneau_).
Montfleury comes in at once, does he not?
RAGUENEAU (_aside to Le Bret_).
Yes. Monsieur de Cyrano is not here, and I have lost my bet.
LE BRET.
I am glad of it.
(_A bag-pipe air, and Montfleury appears, a very powerful man in a poetic shepherd's dress: his hat ornamented with roses and his bag-pipe with ribbons._)
THE PIT (_applauding_).
Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury!
MONTFLEURY (_after bowing, begins his part of Phédon_).
"Oh! happy he who far from courts, in solitude,[7] Self-banished, has cast off the chains of servitude, And who, when zephyr sighs and rustles through the leaves...."
A VOICE IN THE PIT.
You rascal, did I not suspend you for a month?
(_Astonishment. Everybody eager to see who spoke. Murmurs._)
SEVERAL OF THE AUDIENCE.
What? What is it? Who? Why?
(_People in the boxes rise, to see better._)
CUIGY.
It's he!
LE BRET (_frightened_).
Cyrano!
THE VOICE IN THE PIT.
King of clowns, get off the stage!
THE HOUSE.
Oh!
MONTFLEURY.
But....
THE VOICE IN THE PIT.
You recalcitrate?[8]
VOICES IN THE PIT (_and in the boxes_).
Silence! Enough! Go on, Montfleury! Montfleury, have no fear!....
MONTFLEURY (_in shaking tone_).
"Oh! happy he who far from courts, in sol...."
THE VOICE IN THE PIT (_more threatening_).
Well, you king of knaves, shall I be forced to plant a grove of these upon your shoulders?
(_A stick is seen to rise in the pit._)
MONTFLEURY (_in still weaker tones_).
"Oh! happy he...."
(_The stick is shaken threateningly._)
THE VOICE IN THE PIT.
Get off, I say!
THE PIT.
Oh!
MONTFLEURY (_almost breathless_).
"Oh! happy he who far ...."