Part 7

Because night has come, and, in the dark, my words must wander in search of your ear.

ROXANE.

But my words meet with no such difficulty.

CYRANO.

Yours find a resting-place immediately. Oh! very naturally, since I receive them into my heart. Remember that my heart is large, while your ear is very small. Moreover, your words descend! thus have they speed. While mine must rise, Madam: they require more time!

ROXANE.

But they have been rising much better for the last few moments.

CYRANO.

They are getting trained to climbing!

ROXANE.

The fact is that I am speaking to you from quite a height!

CYRANO.

Assuredly, and you would kill me if, from such an elevation, you allowed a sharp word to drop upon my heart!

ROXANE (_moved_).

I'll come down.

CYRANO (_quickly_).

No!

ROXANE (_pointing to the stone bench under the balcony_).

Step upon the bench, then, and climb up here!

CYRANO (_frightened and retreating_).

No!

ROXANE.

You surprise me.... Why not?

CYRANO (_more and more moved_).

Let us rather improve.... this opportunity of.... speaking softly together.... without seeing each other.

ROXANE.

What! To each other almost invisible?

CYRANO.

As now.--Let us enjoy the bliss there is In seeking to distinguish one the other. For you, I'm but the darkness of a cloak; For me, you are the whiteness of a robe. I'm shadow only, you are blessèd light!

If ever you have thought me eloquent....

ROXANE.

I have.

CYRANO.

Remember now that my words never yet came from my true heart.

ROXANE.

Why not?

CYRANO.

Because.... until now.... I have spoken to you through....

ROXANE.

Through what?

CYRANO.

The spell that you cast upon those who bask in the light of your eyes!.... And so, this night, to me it seems as if I were about to speak to you for the first time!

ROXANE.

Ah! that is why your voice seems different.

CYRANO (_feverish, and coming up closer to the balcony_).

Yes, different; for, now that darkness shields me, I dare to be myself at last, I dare....

(_He stops, bewildered._)

Where was I?.... I forget.... Pardon my confusion.... All this is so exquisite.... so new to me!....

ROXANE.

So new!

CYRANO (_quite bewildered, and trying to explain_).

So new!.... Why! yes.... It's new to be sincere. And then.... a fear of ridicule....

ROXANE.

Ridicule? For what?

CYRANO.

My emotional flights!

My heart, through diffidence, forever calls Upon my mind to shield it from disdain: I start to cull a star, and then I halt, For fear of ridicule, to pick a floret.

ROXANE.

A floret has its charms.

CYRANO.

Disdain them now!

ROXANE.

You never spoke to me as now you speak!

CYRANO.

Oh! let us set aside the pygmy things, The superannuated niceties Of love as it is understood to-day! Why sip by drops the waters of a spring, When from a river we can freely quaff?

ROXANE.

But mind and wit?

CYRANO.

They serve to make you stay. But now 'twould be an insult to the night, To fragrance, and to fate, and nature too, If we should hold unto affected style. One look above, and artifice disarms! I fear that, with this subtle alchemy, The truth of sentiment might vapourise, The soul exhaust itself in futile play, And niceties be carried to a point So pointed that it end in nothingness!

ROXANE.

But mind and wit?

CYRANO.

I hate them now. It is A crime to force sweet love to bandy words! There comes a time, moreover, be assured-- Oh! how I pity those who feel it not!-- When our breast o'erflows with noble love, A love that pretty words must desecrate!

ROXANE.

Since now for both of us the time has come, What words shall I expect from you?

CYRANO.

All, all, All those I know; accept them scattered loose, Unsought, unbound. I love you--let me breathe!-- I love thee[20], and I rave. 'Tis joy too much! Thy name is in my heart as in a bell, Roxane, and, as my heart forever throbs, The bell is e'er the sounder of thy name. Of thee there's nought I do not hoard and love: I mind me that, last year, the twelfth of May, A twist was changed in what's a crown, thy hair! Thy glowing hair to me is truly light. When we have gazed too long upon the sun, We see on things around a halo reign; 'Tis thus when I have lost the light thou shedst: My dazzled eyes are filled with golden sparks!

ROXANE.

Yes, this is love--

CYRANO.

The passion in my heart Is jealous, fierce, with sadness tainted, but It's really love--love shorn of selfish thought. Would I could give my happiness for thine-- E'en shouldst thou ne'er suspect whose gift it was-- If I could hear, perchance and from afar, The music of thy bliss, my offering! From every glance of thine fresh virtue springs, Fresh valour, too. Oh! say I'm understood, And that thou feelst my soul ascend to thee! All is to-night too beautiful and sweet! And still it's true! I speak, at last, to thee. Yes, I to thee! 'Tis bliss too great! My hopes, My wildest hopes ne'er leaped to such a height; My dream's no dream, and I can die content. Because of me she quivers with the trees! For, leaf divine, you tremble with the leaves! Thou tremblest, for, against thy will or not, I feel, oh, bliss! the tremour of thy hand Descending now along these flowery vines.

(_He imprints a passionate kiss upon one of the branches._)

ROXANE.

I tremble, yes; I weep, I love, I'm thine! I am enthralled!

CYRANO.

May Death then come along, Since rapture's born of me, of me alone! What more can I expect of life?--

CHRISTIAN (_under the balcony_).

A kiss!

ROXANE (_falling back_).

What?

CYRANO.

Oh!

ROXANE.

You claim?--

CYRANO.

Yes--I--

(_aside to Christian_).

You go too far.

CHRISTIAN (_aside to Cyrano_).

Now she is moved, it's time for me to act.

CYRANO (_to Roxane_).

Yes, I.... I asked.... it is true.... but now I realise how more than bold I was.

ROXANE (_somewhat disappointed_).

And you do not insist?

CYRANO.

Insist? Of course I do.... but with reserve!.... Yes, I know your modesty's offended. So, I withdraw the kiss.... refuse it to me!

CHRISTIAN (_with a tug at Cyrano's cloak_).

Why so?

CYRANO.

Be silent, Christian!

ROXANE (_leaning over the balcony_).

What are you muttering?

CYRANO.

I was reproving myself for going too far. I was saying: be silent Christian!....

(_sound of archlute._)

One moment please!.... Some one comes.

(_Roxane closes her window. Cyrano listens to the archlutes; one of them plays a lively air, and the other a sad one._)

Lively?.... Sad?.... A woman or a man? No, a monk!

(_Enter monk holding a lighted lantern. He goes from house to house, looking at the doors._)

[20] Note.--In this tirade, and in the following one, _you_, _thou_ and _she_ are intentionally interwoven. When Cyrano is carried by his emotion, he passes from _you_ to _thou_, which latter is, in French, familiar and endearing much more than in English. Then, reclaimed by reason and fearing that he has overstepped the bounds, he returns to the (in French) more formal _you_, or resorts to a discreet _she_, only to forget himself again and to resume the caressing _thou_.

_SCENE VII._

CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, _a_ CAPUCHIN MONK.

CYRANO (_to the Monk_).

Are you a new Diogenes?

MONK.

I'm looking for the house of Madam Magdeleine Robin.

CYRANO (_pointing to one of the streets_).

That way--straight ahead--as far as you can go....

MONK.

Thank you, Sir!--I'll tell my beads for you.

(_Exit Monk._)

CYRANO.

Peace be with you! I bid you Godspeed!

(_Comes down toward Christian._)

_SCENE VIII._

CYRANO, CHRISTIAN.

CHRISTIAN.

Obtain for me that kiss!

CYRANO.

No, Sir!

CHRISTIAN.

But, sooner or later, you know....

CYRANO.

True, The time will come, that time of bliss intense, When each will fall into the other's arms, And blond mustache to rosy lips will go!

(_aside_)

'Twas better that at least I cause the bliss.

(_Window above opens. Christian conceals himself beneath the balcony._)

_SCENE IX._

CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, ROXANE.

ROXANE (_coming out on the balcony_).

Is it you?--Yes.... What were we speaking of?.... oh! of a.... well, of....

CYRANO.

A kiss! The word is soft. Why hesitate? The name, be sure, will not maltreat your lips, However burning be the thing itself.-- Just now, you left the trifling mood, to glide, To steal from smile to sigh, and sigh to tears. Glide on!.... From tear to kiss there's but a thrill!

ROXANE.

Be silent!

CYRANO.

After all, what is a kiss? An oath that's given closer than before; A promise more precise; the sealing of Confessions that till then were barely breathed; A ruby O to spell the verb: I love![21] A secret that's confided to a mouth And not to ears; a precious moment of Infinity that buzzes like a bee; Communion with the fragrance flowers have; A gentle way for heart to breathe a heart, For soul from fervid lips to drink a soul!

ROXANE.

Be still!

CYRANO.

A kiss is oft a thing so grand That once a queen of France permitted one Unto a happy lord. I said: a queen!

ROXANE.

And then?

CYRANO (_excited_).

Like Buckingham, I've suffered long; Like him I love a queen, the one that's you! Like him, I'm sad and faithful....

ROXANE.

And like him You've beauty.

CYRANO (_aside, abashed_).

Yes.... I've beauty.... I forgot!

ROXANE.

Well, then, come up, to cull the flower....

CYRANO (_pushing Christian toward the balcony_).

Go!

ROXANE.

Whose fragrance....

CYRANO (_to Christian_).

Go!

ROXANE.

The buzzing of the bee....

CYRANO (_to Christian_).

Go up!

CHRISTIAN (_hesitating_).

But now, it really seems a crime!

ROXANE.

A moment of infinity....

CYRANO (_pushing Christian_).

You fool, Go up!

(_Christian, by aid of bench, vines and posts, reaches the balcony and steps over the railing._)

CHRISTIAN.

Roxane!....

(_He clasps her to his breast and kisses her on the lips._)

CYRANO (_aside_).

What pinches so my heart?.... That kiss!.... a feast where I'm the Lazarus!.... Sweet feast, from thee there falls to me a crumb, Since on the lips Roxane mistakes, alas! She drinks the words that I just now pronounced!

(_Sound of instruments._)

An air that's sad, a lively air!--The Monk!

(_Affecting to run as if coming from a distance. In clear tone:_)

Hello!

ROXANE.

What is it?

CYRANO.

It is I, Cyrano. I was passing.... Is Christian still here?

CHRISTIAN (_as if astonished_).

Why! it's Cyrano!

ROXANE.

How do you do, cousin?

CYRANO.

Cousin, how do you do?

ROXANE.

I'll come down.

(_She disappears into the house. By the rear, enter the Monk._)

CHRISTIAN (_perceiving him_).

What! he again!

(_He follows Roxane._)

[21] Note.--"Un point rose qu'on met sur l'i du verbe aimer."

"A ruby O"...., as above, may prove, it is thought, a good example of _equivalence_, the _i_, impossible here in English, finding in O a good substitute, calling up, if not exactly the very same image, at least a kindred one fully as good.

_SCENE X._

CYRANO, CHRISTIAN, ROXANE, THE MONK, RAGUENEAU.

THE MONK.

She must live here--I insist--Magdeleine Robin!

CYRANO.

Why! You said _Ro-lin_.

MONK.

No! _Bin_. B, I, N, _bin_!

ROXANE (_appears in the doorway, followed by Ragueneau, carrying a lighted lantern, and by Christian_).

What is it?

MONK.

A letter.

CHRISTIAN.

What's this?

MONK (_to Roxane_).

Oh! it can but be a saintly thing! A worthy gentleman....

ROXANE (_to Christian_).

Evidently Guiche!

CHRISTIAN.

He would dare?....

ROXANE.

Oh! he cannot long annoy me! I love you, and....

(_She opens the letter, and, by the aid of Ragueneau's lantern, she reads to herself, in a low voice:_)

"Mademoiselle,

"The drums are beating and my regiment is about to start. All think that I have already gone; but I have remained, thus disobeying you. I am here in the convent. I'll come to you forthwith, but I give you notice of my visit, through an innocent monk who knows not what message he is carrying. Your lips smiled to me just now; I must see them again. Dismiss whoever is near you, and condescend to hear the bold suitor whom you have, I trust, already forgiven, and who remains your most.... et cetera...."

(_to the Monk_).

Father, listen! Here is what the letter says:

(_All come up and listen, as she reads aloud:_)

"Mademoiselle,

"You must submit to the will of the Cardinal, however hard it may appear to you. And that is why I send this message by a saintly, most intelligent and discreet capuchin. We desire you to receive his blessing....(_turning the page_) his nuptial blessing immediately. Christian must be married to you secretly. I send him to you, though I know you like him not. Be resigned, remembering that Heaven will bless your zeal. Be assured, Mademoiselle, of my respect, for I have been and shall ever be your most humble and very.... et cetera."

MONK (_delighted_).

Worthy gentleman! I knew he could suggest but a saintly thing!

ROXANE (_aside to Christian_).

Do you not think I read letters well?

CHRISTIAN.

It depends....

ROXANE (_aloud, in despair_).

Ah!.... this is terrible!

MONK (_throwing the light of the lantern upon Cyrano_).

Are you the groom?

CHRISTIAN.

I am the one!

MONK (_turning the light upon Christian and as if he was in doubt on seeing Christian's handsome looks_).

But, my son....

ROXANE (_eagerly_).

There is a Post Scriptum: "Donate to the convent one hundred and twenty pistoles."

MONK.

Worthy, worthy gentleman! (_To Roxane_) Be resigned!

ROXANE (_with a martyr's look_).

I am!

(_While Ragueneau shows the Monk into the house, on Christian's invitation, Roxane, in low tone, says to Cyrano_).

Guiche is coming. Detain him here until....

CYRANO.

I understand.

(_to the Monk_). To give them your blessing will take you.... how long?

MONK.

A quarter of an hour.

CYRANO (_pushing them all into the house_).

Go in, go in! Only one must remain here: I!

ROXANE (_to Christian_).

Come!

(_They all go into the house._)

CYRANO.

How can I detain Guiche fifteen minutes? Oh! I have a plan!

(_He climbs upon the balcony. The archlutes play a sort of dirge._)

This time it must be a man, most certainly. It is!

(_He is on the balcony, with his hat well down over his eyes. Takes off his sword, wraps himself in his cloak, leans over the railing and observes._)

No! Really not too high!

(_Straddles the railing, seizes a long branch of one of the trees and makes ready to drop._)

I'll only slightly disturb the atmosphere!

_SCENE XI._

CYRANO, GUICHE.

GUICHE (_masked, and hesitating in the dark_).

What can this infernal monk be doing?

CYRANO.

By the way--my voice?--He might recognise it!

(_He loosens a hand and makes the motion of turning a key._)

Cric! Crac!

(_Solemnly_) Now, Cyrano, resume the accent of Bergerac!

GUICHE (_looking at the house_).

Here's the house!

(_He is about to enter, but Cyrano springs from the balcony while holding on to the branch; the latter bends and lets him down between Guiche and the door. He affects to fall heavily, as if from a great height, remaining crushed and dazed. Guiche jumps back._)

What is this?

(_When Guiche recovers from his astonishment the branch has sprung up again, so that Cyrano appears to have fallen from the sky._)

From where did this man drop?

CYRANO (_speaking with a Gascon's accent_).

From the moon!

GUICHE.

The moon!....

CYRANO (_as if dazed_).

What time is it? What country is this? What month? What day?

GUICHE.

But, my dear Sir....

CYRANO.

I feel quite dizzy.--Like a bombshell, I have just dropped from the moon!

GUICHE (_out of patience_).

Look here, Sir!....

CYRANO (_rising, and in thundering tone_).

I say that I dropped!

GUICHE (_falling back_).

So be it, then! You dropped!.... (_aside_) He is no doubt insane!

CYRANO (_walking toward him_).

And my drop is not metaphorical!.... One hundred years, or one minute ago--I cannot tell how long I was on the way--I was up in that saffron-coloured ball!

GUICHE (_shrugging his shoulders_).

Quite so! But allow me to pass!

CYRANO (_stopping him_).

Be frank now! Where am I? Where have I fallen like a meteorite?

GUICHE.

Zounds, Sir!....

CYRANO.

During my fall, I could make no selection as to my point of arrival. Is it upon a moon or an earth that my dead weight has just landed?

GUICHE.

But I repeat to you, Sir!....

CYRANO (_with a cry of horror that causes Guiche to fall back_).

Good Heavens!.... In this country are people's faces black? Am I in Algiers, and are you a native?

GUICHE (_touching his mask_).

No doubt, this mask....

CYRANO (_seemingly less frightened_).

Oh! then, it's Venice.... or Genoa!

GUICHE (_trying to pass_).

A lady is waiting for me!...

CYRANO (_completely reassured_).

Then I must be in Paris!

GUICHE (_reluctantly smiling_).

The rascal is amusing!

CYRANO.

You are laughing.

GUICHE.

Yes,--but I must pass.

CYRANO (_apparently overjoyed_).

So I have dropped in Paris!....

(_Quite at his ease, laughing, dusting himself, and bowing._)

I have just arrived--pardon me--by the last cyclone, and I must brush off the ether that is still on me. I've travelled! My eyes are still full of astral dust, and my spurs have caught planet hairs.

(_picking something off his sleeve_).

Here, on my doublet, is one from a comet!....

(_He blows, as if to cast off the hair._)

GUICHE (_enraged_).

Now, look here, Sir!....

(_As Guiche is going to pass, Cyrano stretches out his leg as if to show something that is on it._)

CYRANO.

In the calf of this leg, Sir, I have a tooth of the Great Bear,--and, as nearing the Trident, I managed to avoid its three lances, I fell in a lump upon the Balance--where my weight up there is still registered!

(_preventing Guiche from passing and holding him by one of his buttons._)

If you were to press my nose, Sir, you would cause a flow of milk!....

GUICHE.

Milk, indeed!

CYRANO.

Yes, Sir.... from the Milky Way!

GUICHE.

Oh! by Satan!....

CYRANO.

No! I dropped from heaven! (_crossing his arms_). Would you believe it? I noticed it as I was going by there: Sirius, at night actually wears a turban! (_confidentially_) The other Bear, the little one, is still too small to bite! (_laughing_) As I was passing through the Lyre, I broke one of its strings! (_proudly_) But I intend to write a book on the subject; and the golden stars that I gathered into my scorched cloak, regardless of peril, shall be used by my printer for asterisks!

GUICHE.

Once more, I must insist....

CYRANO.

Oh! Sir, I know what you desire!

GUICHE.

You do?....

CYRANO.

Yes. You desire to hear from me how the moon is made, and if any one inhabits the rotundity of this cucurbit![22]

GUICHE (_very loud_).

No! No! I desire....

CYRANO.

To learn how I got up there? Easily. Through an invention of mine.

GUICHE (_discouraged_).

A madman, certainly!

CYRANO (_disdainfully_).

I copied not the stupid eagle of Regiomontanus, or the timid pigeon of Archytas!....

GUICHE.

A madman--but a learned one.

CYRANO.

No, Sir. I imitated nothing ever done.

(_Guiche, having managed to pass, is nearing Roxane's door, but Cyrano follows, ready to seize him._)

I invented six different ways of assaulting the virgin blue!

GUICHE (_turning_).

Six?

CYRANO (_with increased fluency_).

I could, with body as bare as a taper, have comparisoned it with crystal phials o'erflowing with tears from the morning skies, and my person, then, if exposed in the sun, would have been aspirated by the luminary along with the dew!

GUICHE (_astonished, goes toward Cyrano_).

True! That is one way!

CYRANO (_backing, so as to draw him further away_).

Again, I could have created a powerful gust of wind, to lift me, if I had rarefied the air in a cedar box, by means of heated mirrors forming an icosahedron!

GUICHE (_following Cyrano_).

Two ways!

CYRANO (_still backing_).

Or else, being both a machinist and an artificer, have straddled a steel-legged grasshopper, and caused myself, through successive explosions of saltpetre, to be projected into the azure fields where the stars are wont to graze!

GUICHE (_still following him, and counting on his fingers_).

That is three!

CYRANO.

Since smoke persists in rising, I might have blown into a globe enough of it to carry me up!

GUICHE (_more and more astonished_).

Four!

CYRANO.

Since Phoebe, when her bow is the thinnest, loves to draw, O beeves! your marrow,.... anoint myself with the same!

GUICHE (_stupefied_).

Five!

CYRANO (_who has managed, while talking, to press Guiche over to the other side of the square, near a bench_).

Last: I could have placed myself upon an iron plate, taken a magnet and thrown it up into the air! This is a capital way. As soon as the magnet starts, the iron rushes in pursuit of it. The magnet is thrown up again; the iron plate follows--and, Cadedis! there is nothing to prevent the ascension from lasting indefinitely.

GUICHE.

Six!--All excellent systems. And, tell me, Sir, which one of the six did you adopt?

CYRANO.

A seventh one!

GUICHE.

Astonishing! And what was it, please?

CYRANO.

You would never dream of it!....

GUICHE (_aside_).

The fellow is really interesting!

CYRANO (_very mysterious and imitating the sound of waves on a beach_).

Houüh! Houüh!

GUICHE.

What's that?

CYRANO.

You cannot imagine?

GUICHE.

No!

CYRANO.

The tide!.... As it was running out, in obedience to the attraction of the moon, I lay on the sands--head foremost, so that my hair--hair, you know, does not dry fast--so that my hair was kept bathed in the receding waves. And, thus I was, by the moon's attraction, drawn up, up, erect, like an angel. And up I went, gently, without an effort, until suddenly, I felt a shock!.... Then!....

GUICHE (_interested, takes a seat on the bench_).

Then?....

CYRANO.

Then.... (_resuming his natural tone_). The fifteen minutes have elapsed, Sir, and now I grant you your freedom. The marriage is accomplished!

GUICHE (_jumping up_).

Am I intoxicated?.... That voice!

(_The door of Roxane's house opens; lackeys come out with lighted candelabra. Cyrano takes off his hat that he had kept well down over his face._)

And that nose!.... Cyrano!

CYRANO (_bowing_).

In person.... Cyrano! They have just exchanged their marriage rings.

GUICHE.

They!.... Who?

(_He turns. Tableau. Behind the lackeys, Roxane and Christian holding each other by the hand. The Monk, smiling, follows them. Ragueneau is behind, also holding a light. And last is the Duenna, bewildered, half dressed, as if she had been hurried out of bed._)

Merciful heavens!

[22] Note.--_Cucurbit_ ("cucurbite") for moon is, in French, as odd as it appears in English. The oddity of the expression, that assimulates Luna to the rotund melon, pumpkin, etc., of the genus of plants known as _cucurbita_, is in keeping with Cyrano's intentional extravagance of speech.

_SCENE XII._

_The same._ ROXANE, CHRISTIAN, THE MONK, RAGUENEAU, LACKEYS, THE DUENNA.

GUICHE (_to Roxane_).

You, Roxane!

(_Astounded on recognising Christian_) and he?

(_Bowing admiringly to Roxane._)

You are admirably shrewd!

(_To Cyrano_) My compliments to you, Sir, as an inventor. Your narrative would have stopped a saint at the gate of heaven! Do not forget to write that book!

CYRANO (_bowing_).

I promise, Sir, to follow your advice.

THE MONK (_with an air of satisfaction calling Guiche's attention to the two lovers_).

A beautiful couple, my son, and good work of yours!

GUICHE (_very coldly_).

Yes.

(_to Roxane_) Be good enough to bid farewell, Madam, to your husband.

ROXANE.

How so?

GUICHE (_to Christian_).