Part 6

Nose to nose....

CYRANO (_bounding toward him_).

Ventre--Saint--Gris!....

(_All the Gascons advance to witness the scene. But Cyrano, on coming up to Christian, masters himself, and continues:_)

Confronted by a hundred drunken rascals.... smelling....

CHRISTIAN.

With their hundred noses....

CYRANO (_pale as death, but smiling_).

....Strongly of onion and garlic! I rushed forward blindly....

CHRISTIAN.

Without nosing....

CYRANO.

And charged them! Down went two of them. A third I ran through. They lunged, I parried, and struck down, how many?....

CHRISTIAN.

Who knows!....

CYRANO (_bursting with rage_).

Thunder and lightning! Clear the room!

(_The Cadets rush toward the door._)

FIRST CADET.

The tiger wakes!

CYRANO.

All out! Leave me alone with this man!

SECOND CADET.

We'll find the fellow in mince-meat.

RAGUENEAU.

Mince-meat. Not fit, though, for my pies.

(_All go out, by the rear, the sides and the staircase. Cyrano and Christian remain face to face staring at each other fiercely._)

_SCENE X._

CYRANO, CHRISTIAN.

CYRANO.

Embrace me!

CHRISTIAN.

Sir!....

CYRANO.

You are brave.

CHRISTIAN.

Perhaps. But....

CYRANO.

Very brave. I prefer it so.

CHRISTIAN.

Kindly explain....

CYRANO.

Embrace me! I am her brother!

CHRISTIAN.

Whose brother?

CYRANO.

Her's! Roxane's!

CHRISTIAN (_running up to him_).

You! The brother of Roxane?

CYRANO.

Well, very much the same: a brotherly cousin.

CHRISTIAN.

And she?....

CYRANO.

Told me all!

CHRISTIAN.

Does she love me?

CYRANO.

Perhaps!

CHRISTIAN (_taking Cyrano's hands_).

How happy I feel, Sir, to know you!

CYRANO.

Rather a sudden sentiment, is it not?

CHRISTIAN.

Forgive me, but....

CYRANO (_looking well at him, and laying his hand on Christian's shoulder_).

It's a fact. A fine-looking fellow, this rascal!

CHRISTIAN.

I only wish you knew, Sir, how much I admire you.

CYRANO.

Yes? But what of all those noses that you....

CHRISTIAN.

I withdraw them, Sir!

CYRANO.

Roxane expects a letter to-night.

CHRISTIAN.

That is the trouble.

CYRANO.

How so?

CHRISTIAN.

I am lost if I remain silent!....

CYRANO.

Well then?....

CHRISTIAN.

But, I am ashamed to own it, I am too stupid to write.

CYRANO.

Stupid? You are not, friend, since you realise your inability. Moreover, your attack upon me was not that of a dunce.

CHRISTIAN.

Oh! it is easy enough to find words for a fight! Yes, perhaps I have a sort of easy, military wit; but, facing women, I am struck dumb. Oh! their eyes seem favourable enough as I pass them....

CYRANO.

Are not their hearts the same when you stop?

CHRISTIAN.

No, for I belong to those--and I know it--who tremble, and know not how to speak of love.

CYRANO.

Strange!.... It seems to me that, if I were better looking, I should belong to the other class: those who know and dare.

CHRISTIAN.

Oh! that I could with elegance express my feelings!

CYRANO.

Or be a pretty little musketeer!

CHRISTIAN.

Roxane is a "_précieuse_," and, in her eyes, I shall be disgraced!

CYRANO (_looking at Christian_).

Oh! that for the feelings of my soul I had such an interpreter!

CHRISTIAN (_despairing_).

What would I not give for eloquence!

CYRANO (_eagerly_).

I'll lend you some! Lend you to me your physical attraction, and the two combined will constitute the hero of a romance.

CHRISTIAN.

What then?

CYRANO.

Would you feel equal to repeating the daily lessons I could give you?

CHRISTIAN.

What is it you propose?

CYRANO.

In Roxane's eyes you shall not be disgraced. Together, if you will, we can gain her love. Will you allow the soul so ill-restrained by my buckskin here to breathe and sing beneath your embroidered doublet?....

CHRISTIAN.

But Cyrano....

CYRANO.

.... Christian, will you?

CHRISTIAN.

Would it give you so much pleasure?

CYRANO (_enraptured_).

It would....

(_returning to his senses, and lightly_)

It would amuse me!

A trial this to tempt a poet. Come! We shall complete each other, if you will. You'll walk, and I'll be near you in the shade! I'll be the breath, and you shall be the form!

CHRISTIAN.

But that letter she expects. I cannot write it....

CYRANO (_taking from his doublet the letter he wrote a while before_).

Your letter?.... Here it is!

CHRISTIAN.

How is this?

CYRANO.

It lacks nothing but the address. You may send it. Feel no anxiety. It is as it should be.

CHRISTIAN.

But how is it that you?....

CYRANO.

We poets have about us, as a rule, Fine letters to the women we adore.... In our dreams. For we belong to those Whose love is but a fleeting fancy blown Into the rainbow-bubble of a name! Take this and make a truth of what is feigned. My rambling words of rapture flutter like Bewildered birds; you'll cause them to alight. The letter shows, itself--now take it!--that My eloquence was born of artifice.

CHRISTIAN.

But there may be a few words to change. Thus, written at random, will it fit Roxane?

CYRANO.

It will fit her like a glove! Human vanity is so credulous that Roxane will never doubt the letter was written for her!

CHRISTIAN.

You are my dearest friend!

(_He throws himself into Cyrano's arms. They remain embracing._)

_SCENE XI._

CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, THE GASCONS, THE MUSKETEER, LISE.

A CADET (_half opening the door_).

Complete silence.... the silence of death.... I fear to look around!

(_after a survey_) What!....

SEVERAL CADETS (_entering and looking at Cyrano and Christian locked in each other's arms_).

Ah!.... Oh!.... Impossible!....

(_Consternation._)

THE MUSKETEER (_jeeringly_).

Well, well!....

CARBON.

Our quarrelsome demon has become as lamblike as an apostle! Struck on one of his nostrils--he offers the other!

THE MUSKETEER.

So, now we may speak of his nose!....

(_calling Lise, triumphantly_).

Lise, just come and see!....

(_sniffing with affectation_).

Why!.... Why!.... this is surprising! It smells here of....

(_going up to Cyrano_).

But you, Sir, must have noticed it? It smells of....

CYRANO (_slapping Musketeer's face_).

Five-leaf clover!

(_General rejoicing, Cyrano is himself again. Cadets turn somersaults._)

_CURTAIN._

_ACT III._

THE KISS OF ROXANE.

_A small public square in the old Marais quarter of Paris. Old houses, narrow streets. To the right Roxane's house and garden, over the wall of which spread and hang the branches of large trees inside. Above the door, a window and a balcony. By the door a stone bench._

_Ivy creeps up the wall, and a jasmine twines around the balcony. By means of the bench and of stones projecting from the wall, it is comparatively easy to climb up to the balcony._

_Over the way, an old house in the same style, brick and stone, with a door, the knocker of which is wrapped with rags like a sore finger._

_As the curtain rises, the Duenna is seated on the bench. The window on Roxane's balcony is wide open. Standing near the Duenna is Ragueneau, wearing a sort of livery. He is concluding a story, and wiping his eyes._

_SCENE I._

RAGUENEAU, THE DUENNA, _later_ ROXANE, CYRANO, _and two pages_.

RAGUENEAU.

.... And then she left with a Musketeer! Deserted and ruined, I hung myself, and I was already off for another world, when enter Monsieur de Bergerac. He unhung me and offered me to his cousin for a steward.

THE DUENNA.

But how were you ruined so?

RAGUENEAU.

Lise had a weakness for the military, and I for poets. Mars ate all the cakes that Apollo left. Oh! they made short work of it!

THE DUENNA (_rises and calls toward the window_).

Roxane! Are you ready? We'll be late.

VOICE OF ROXANE (_through the window_).

I'm putting on my cape!

THE DUENNA (_to Ragueneau, pointing to the door of the house over the way_).

We are expected over there, at Clomire's. She holds her literary assizes. There will be a reading. Subject: The Tender Passion!

RAGUENEAU.

The Tender Passion, indeed!

THE DUENNA (_smirking_).

The Tender Passion. Why not?

(_calling toward the window_).

Roxane, come down! Or we shall miss the discourse on The Tender Passion.

VOICE OF ROXANE.

I am coming!

(_Sound of string instruments growing gradually nearer._)

VOICE OF CYRANO (_singing in the wings_).

La, la, la, la!

THE DUENNA (_surprised_).

Music for us!

CYRANO (_followed by two pages each with an archlute_).

I say again that it's a demi-semi-quaver, you triple fool!

FIRST PAGE (_with irony_).

So then, Sir, you have thorough knowledge of quavers?

CYRANO.

I am a musician, as are all the disciples of Gassendi.

THE PAGE (_playing and singing_).

La, la!

CYRANO (_snatching from him the archlute and continuing the music_).

I can go on! La, la, la, la!

ROXANE (_appearing on the balcony_).

So, it is you?

CYRANO (_continuing the same air_).

Yes, I who come to celebrate the lily, And to extol the glory of the ro....se!

ROXANE.

I'll be down in a moment.

(_She leaves the balcony._)

THE DUENNA (_to Cyrano, pointing to the two pages_).

And who may be these two songsters?

CYRANO.

Oh! they are part of a bet I won. D'Assoucy and I had a discussion on a point of grammar. No! Yes! No! Yes! Of a sudden he points to these two scarecrows here, his constant escort, great in the art of scratching a string with a claw, and he says: "I'll bet you a whole day of music!"--He lost. And now, until to-morrow comes, I must enjoy both the strains and the presence of these two harmonious witnesses of all my acts!.... Pleasant, if you like, in the beginning, but now the pleasure is growing less.

(_to the musicians_).

Hep!.... Just go and play a pavan--with my compliments--for that actor Montfleury!

(_Pages go up. To the Duenna_).

I've come this evening--as on previous evenings--

(_to the Pages who are leaving_).

Play long,--and out of tune!

(_to Duenna_).

To ask Roxane if the friend of her soul is still as faultless as before.

ROXANE (_coming out of the house_).

How beautiful, how clever he is! and how I love him!

CYRANO (_smiling_).

Indeed! And is Christian so very clever?....

ROXANE.

Yes, dear friend, more so even than yourself!

CYRANO.

So be it, then!

ROXANE.

To my mind, it would be impossible for anyone to deliver with more elegance and wit than he does these pretty trifles that are nothing, if you will--and still are everything. At times, it is true, he seems quite absent-minded; but, suddenly, he recovers and says the most charming things!

CYRANO (_incredulous_).

You surprise me!

ROXANE.

You men are really astonishing! Because Christian is handsome, he _must_ be stupid!

CYRANO.

I doubt if he can speak of hearts and love.

ROXANE.

He does not speak of, he lectures on them, Sir!

CYRANO.

And he writes?

ROXANE.

Still better. Just listen.

(_reciting_).

"The more you take of what's my heart, the more I've left."

(_triumphantly_).

What think you of that?

CYRANO.

So! So!

ROXANE.

And of this? (_reciting_).

"Since I must suffer and, to suffer, have a heart, If you would keep the heart that's mine, then send me yours."

CYRANO.

At first he had too much heart; now he has not enough. It would be interesting to know exactly how much heart would satisfy him.

ROXANE.

You are exasperating! True jealousy!....

CYRANO (_moved_).

What?....

ROXANE.

An author's jealousy! And is not this just as lovely as possible? Listen!

"T'ward you my heart, I swear, has but a single cry, And, if in written lines fond kisses could be sent, O Madam, you would read this letter with your lips!"

CYRANO (_with an unconscious smile of satisfaction_).

Ha! ha! the lines are.... hum! hum!....

(_recovering and disdainfully_).

.... really pretty weak!

ROXANE.

Indeed! And this?

CYRANO.

Why! do you remember all his letters?

ROXANE.

Every one of them!

CYRANO.

Undoubtedly, this is quite a compliment!

ROXANE.

He is a master!

CYRANO (_with modesty_).

Oh!.... a master!....

ROXANE (_with decision_).

A master, I say!

CYRANO.

So be it! A master!

THE DUENNA (_returning from the rear_).

Monsieur de Guiche!

(_to Cyrano, pushing him toward the house_).

Get into the house. It is better he should not see you here--or else he might suspect....

ROXANE (_to Cyrano_).

Yes, discover my secret. He loves me; he is powerful, and he must not know of my love. He could destroy it!

CYRANO (_entering the house_).

Very well, then, very well!

(_Enter Guiche._)

_SCENE II._

ROXANE, GUICHE, THE DUENNA, _at a distance_.

ROXANE (_to Guiche, with a curtsey_).

I was just going out.

GUICHE.

And I have come to take leave, before starting for the front.

ROXANE.

Oh!....

GUICHE.

I am ordered to the siege of Arras....

ROXANE.

Oh!....

GUICHE.

.... and I go to-night.

ROXANE.

Oh!....

GUICHE.

My departure does not seem to distress you greatly....

ROXANE.

Oh!....

GUICHE.

.... But I seriously grieve over it. Shall I ever see you again?.... When?.... By the way, I have been given a high command.

ROXANE (_indifferent_).

I congratulate you!

GUICHE.

The Guards regiment.

ROXANE (_interested_).

Oh! the Guards?

GUICHE.

Yes, the regiment in which is your cousin, the man of boastful words. I'll have my revenge when I get him at the siege.

ROXANE (_overcome_).

What! the Guards are going there?

GUICHE (_laughing_).

Of course, since they are now my regiment.

ROXANE (_sinking on the bench--aside_).

Christian!

GUICHE.

What ails you?

ROXANE (_moved_).

This.... departure.... grieves me sorely. To know that those you.... care for.... are going to battle!

GUICHE (_surprised and pleased_).

Why is it I hear words so sweet only on the day of my departure?

ROXANE (_changing her manner and using her fan_).

So, then, you mean to seek revenge on my cousin Cyrano?

GUICHE (_surprised_).

Do you take his part?

ROXANE.

I? Not at all. I am against him.

GUICHE.

Do you see him often?

ROXANE.

Very seldom.

GUICHE.

I meet him everywhere.... with one of those cadets.... this Neu.... vil.... Neuvil....

ROXANE.

A tall man?

GUICHE.

A blond.

ROXANE.

Red-haired, rather.

GUICHE.

Handsome!....

ROXANE.

For some, perhaps, but....

GUICHE.

But very stupid.

ROXANE.

So it struck me! (_changing her manner_).

....Your revenge as regards Cyrano no doubt consists in holding him under fire, which he relishes. So I hardly see great vengeance for you in that. I can tell you, though, what would wound him to the quick!....

GUICHE.

And that is?....

ROXANE.

To have his regiment and his dear cadets remain, so long as there is war, right here, in Paris, inactive! The only way to punish him is to deprive him of danger.

GUICHE.

Woman! Woman! No one but a woman would think of such a scheme!

(_getting closer to Roxane_).

You have then some regard for me? (_She smiles._) The fact that you take sides with me, Roxane, is, in my eyes, a proof of love.

ROXANE.

It is one.

GUICHE (_showing several sealed papers_).

I have the orders here for every company, and they shall be sent immediately, except....

(_he takes one out of the batch_) this one! It is for the cadets, and (_puts it into a pocket_)

I hold it back! Ha! ha! Cyrano....so eager for the fray! And so you play with people as with mice, Roxane?

ROXANE.

Sometimes!

GUICHE (_quite close to her_).

You enthrall me! Roxane, listen. To-night--yes, I know, I must depart. But leave you when I feel that you are moved!....I cannot. Hear me! Close by here is the convent of the Capuchin fathers. Laymen cannot enter it; but, as the fathers serve my uncle Richelieu, they have some regard for his nephew, and they will give me a place of concealment. Officially, I shall have left for the front, but I shall return to you under the cover of a mask. Allow me to delay my departure a few hours, dear waywardness!

ROXANE.

But if you are discovered! Your reputation....

GUICHE.

I'll risk it.

ROXANE.

But the siege.... Arras....

GUICHE.

I care not. Grant me your permission!

ROXANE.

No!

GUICHE.

Do!

ROXANE (_affectionately_).

My duty says that I must forbid! I beseech you, go!

(_aside_).

Christian remains here!

(_aloud_).

I would have you be a hero--Antoine!

GUICHE.

Celestial word!--And so you love the one....

ROXANE.

For whom I tremble? Yes!

GUICHE (_enraptured_).

'Tis well, I leave!

(_Kisses her hand._)

Are you satisfied?

ROXANE.

Yes, dearest friend!

(_Exit Guiche._)

THE DUENNA (_curtseying mockingly behind Guiche_).

Yes, dearest friend.

ROXANE (_to Duenna_).

Not a word, if you please. Cyrano would never forgive me for stealing his war from him!

(_calling toward the house_).

Cousin!

_SCENE III._

ROXANE, THE DUENNA, CYRANO.

ROXANE (_pointing to door of house opposite hers_).

We are going to Clomire's. Alcandre is to speak, so is Lysimon.

DUENNA.

Yes, but my little finger says that we shall be late.

CYRANO.

Make haste lest you miss part of their monkey talk.

DUENNA (_looking at knocker_).

That's right, they have gagged this noisy little wretch. It might have interrupted the finest speeches.

(_She knocks very gently. Door opens._)

ROXANE (_about to pass in. To Cyrano_).

Were Christian to come, as is likely, request him to wait for me, please.

CYRANO.

I shall.

(_As she is passing in the door, she turns, on hearing Cyrano speak._)

And what question do you intend, as is your wont, to propound to him to-day?

ROXANE.

The question of....

CYRANO (_eagerly_).

Of?....

ROXANE.

But you'll remain silent!

CYRANO.

As a prison wall.

ROXANE.

No question at all!.... I shall simply say to him: Proceed--without a rein!--Extemporise. Speak of love. Be grand!

CYRANO (_smiling_).

Excellent idea!

ROXANE.

Hush!

CYRANO.

Hush!

(_Roxane enters, closing the door._)

CYRANO (_bowing to the door_).

Very many thanks!

(_The door opens and Roxane passes out her head._)

ROXANE.

He might try to prepare!....

CYRANO.

That would never do!....

TOGETHER.

Hush!

(_Door closes._)

CYRANO (_calling_).

Christian!

_SCENE IV._

CYRANO, CHRISTIAN.

CYRANO.

Now I'm informed! Prepare your memory. There is glory in store for you.--Drop your bad humour, and let us haste to your house, where I shall coach you.

CHRISTIAN.

No!

CYRANO.

What!

CHRISTIAN.

I'll wait for Roxane here.

CYRANO.

Have you gone mad? Come, come!

CHRISTIAN.

No! I said. I am weary of committing to memory my letters, my speeches.... Weary of playing a part....weary of trembling lest I fail! All good and well in the beginning! But now I feel that she really loves me! Many thanks, I fear nothing now. I'll speak unprompted.

CYRANO.

So, indeed!

CHRISTIAN.

Probably you think that I cannot?.... After all, I'm not so stupid! You shall see! Your lessons have improved me. I'll speak unaided. And--speak or not--I'll know enough to clasp her in my arms!

(_Perceiving Roxane coming out of Clomire's house_).

It is she! Cyrano, for pity's sake, do not leave me!

CYRANO (_bowing to him_).

You'll speak unprompted, Sir.

(_He disappears behind the garden wall._)

_SCENE V._

CHRISTIAN, ROXANE, THE DUENNA, _a moment_.

ROXANE (_coming out of Clomire's house, in company with several ladies and gentlemen.--Curtsies_).

Barthénoïde!--Alcandre--Grémione!....

DUENNA (_in despair_).

We missed the discourse on The Tender Passion!

(_Enters house of Roxane._)

ROXANE (_going up to Christian_).

Oh! here you are!.... Twilight is coming, the air is balmy, and there is nobody about. Let us be seated. Speak. I'm listening.

(_She takes a seat on the bench. Christian sits near her. Silence._)

CHRISTIAN.

I love you!

ROXANE (_closing her eyes_).

Yes, speak of love!

CHRISTIAN.

I love thee!

ROXANE.

Yes, that is the theme. Amplify!

CHRISTIAN.

I love....

ROXANE.

Expatiate!

CHRISTIAN.

So deeply!....

ROXANE.

Of course.... and then?....

CHRISTIAN.

And then?.... I should feel so happy if you loved me! Roxane, do say that you love me!

ROXANE (_pouting_).

You offer me porridge when I expected cream! Now, say _how_ you love me.

CHRISTIAN.

I love you....very much.

ROXANE.

Uncloud your sentiments a little!

CHRISTIAN.

Your neck! Ah! that I could press my lips to it!

ROXANE.

Christian, for shame!

CHRISTIAN.

I love you!

ROXANE (_about to rise_).

Again!

CHRISTIAN (_restraining her_).

No! I do _not_ love you....

ROXANE (_settling again into her seat_).

That is better!

CHRISTIAN.

I adore you!

ROXANE (_rising and from a distance_).

Oh! the same thing!

CHRISTIAN.

Yes--I feel that I am getting stupid!

ROXANE.

Yes, and it displeases me. No more should I like to have you lose your good looks.

CHRISTIAN.

But....

ROXANE.

Come, call up all your eloquence, just now put to flight.

CHRISTIAN.

I....

ROXANE.

Yes, I know, you love me. Farewell!

(_She goes toward the door._)

CHRISTIAN.

Do not go! Let me tell you....

ROXANE (_opening her door_).

That you adore me?.... But I know it already. No! no! you had better leave me!

CHRISTIAN.

But hear me, Roxane....

(_She closes the door in his face._)

CYRANO (_who has just appeared without being seen_).

Quite a success!

_SCENE VI._

CHRISTIAN, CYRANO, THE PAGES, _a moment_.

CHRISTIAN.

Help! help!

CYRANO.

No, Sir!

CHRISTIAN.

I'll die if she does not this moment relent....

CYRANO.

What can I do? This very moment drum into you....

CHRISTIAN (_clasping Cyrano's arm_).

See! There she comes!

(_Light in the balcony window._)

CYRANO (_moved_).

Her window!

CHRISTIAN.

Help me! Or I'll die!

CYRANO.

Speak lower!

CHRISTIAN (_whispering_).

It is life or death to me!

CYRANO.

The night is dark....

CHRISTIAN.

Well, speak!

CYRANO.

The harm can be undone. You do not deserve it, you wretch!....but stand there before the balcony! I'll remain beneath it--and prompt you!

CHRISTIAN.

But, my friend....

CYRANO.

Obey orders!

THE PAGES (_in the rear, to Cyrano_).

Hep!

CYRANO (_silencing them_).

Hush!

FIRST PAGE (_in a whisper_).

We have serenaded Montfleury.

CYRANO (_in a whisper, quickly to Pages_).

You, stand on this corner....and you, on that one. If anyone comes along, play an air.

SECOND PAGE.

What sort of air would suit Gassendi?

CYRANO.

Lively for a woman; for a man a sad one!

(_Pages disappear, taking two different streets._)

(_To Christian_) Now, call her!

CHRISTIAN (_calling_).

Roxane.

CYRANO (_picking up a few pebbles that he throws against the window_).

Wait! A few pebbles.

ROXANE (_half opening her window_).

Who calls me?

CHRISTIAN.

I.

ROXANE.

Who is I?

CHRISTIAN.

I, Christian.

ROXANE (_scornfully_).

Oh! you!

CHRISTIAN.

I must speak to you.

CYRANO (_under the balcony, to Christian_).

Good! Lower your voice.

ROXANE.

No! You speak too clumsily. Better go!

CHRISTIAN.

Be pitiful!....

ROXANE.

No! You love me no more!

CHRISTIAN (_prompted by Cyrano_).

You accuse me....merciful Gods!....of loving no more....when....I love more!

ROXANE (_stopping as she was going to close the window_).

Why! you are improving.

CHRISTIAN (_still prompted_).

Love grows stronger in the restless soul--mine--that he has chosen....cruel child!....for a cradle!

ROXANE (_coming out on the balcony_).

Better still!....But, since this love is so cruel, you were foolish, indeed, not to smother it at its birth!

CHRISTIAN (_prompted_).

I tried....but without success: this new-born babe, Madam, is a little Hercules.

ROXANE.

Still better!

CHRISTIAN (_prompted_).

In fact, he....strangled without an effort....two serpents....Pride and....Doubt....

ROXANE (_leaning on the balcony railing_).

Very good indeed! But why do you speak so....deliberately? Has your imagination the gout, that it limps so?

CYRANO (_drawing Christian under the balcony, and noiselessly taking Christian's place before it_).

Hush! The task is getting too difficult!....

ROXANE.

To-night you waver in your speech. Why so?

CYRANO (_speaking in a low tone as Christian did before him_).