Cyrano de Bergerac
ROXANE (coming out on the balcony):
Still there?
We spoke of a. . .
CYRANO:
A kiss! The word is sweet.
I see not why your lip should shrink from it;
If the word burns it,--what would the kiss do?
Oh! let it not your bashfulness affright;
Have you not, all this time, insensibly,
Left badinage aside, and unalarmed
Glided from smile to sigh,--from sigh to weeping?
Glide gently, imperceptibly, still onward--
From tear to kiss,--a moment's thrill!--a heartbeat!
ROXANE:
Hush! hush!
CYRANO:
A kiss, when all is said,--what is it?
An oath that's ratified,--a sealed promise,
A heart's avowal claiming confirmation,--
A rose-dot on the 'i' of 'adoration,'--
A secret that to mouth, not ear, is whispered,--
Brush of a bee's wing, that makes time eternal,--
Communion perfumed like the spring's wild flowers,--
The heart's relieving in the heart's outbreathing,
When to the lips the soul's flood rises, brimming!
ROXANE:
Hush! hush!
CYRANO:
A kiss, Madame, is honorable:
The Queen of France, to a most favored lord
Did grant a kiss--the Queen herself!
ROXANE:
What then?
CYRANO (speaking more warmly):
Buckingham suffered dumbly,--so have I,--
Adored his Queen, as loyally as I,--
Was sad, but faithful,--so am I. . .
ROXANE:
And you
Are fair as Buckingham!
CYRANO (aside--suddenly cooled):
True,--I forgot!
ROXANE:
Must I then bid thee mount to cull this flower?
CYRANO (pushing Christian toward the balcony):
Mount!
ROXANE:
This heart-breathing!. . .
CYRANO:
Mount!
ROXANE:
This brush of bee's wing!. . .
CYRANO:
Mount!
CHRISTIAN (hesitating):
But I feel now, as though 'twere ill done!
ROXANE:
This moment infinite!. . .
CYRANO (still pushing him):
Come, blockhead, mount!
(Christian springs forward, and by means of the bench, the branches, and the
pillars, climbs to the balcony and strides over it.)
CHRISTIAN:
Ah, Roxane!
(He takes her in his arms, and bends over her lips.)
CYRANO:
Aie! Strange pain that wrings my heart!
The kiss, love's feast, so near! I, Lazarus,
Lie at the gate in darkness. Yet to me
Falls still a crumb or two from the rich man's board--
Ay, 'tis my heart receives thee, Roxane--mine!
For on the lips you press you kiss as well
The words I spoke just now!--my words--my words!
(The lutes play):
A sad air,--a gay air: the monk!
(He begins to run as if he came from a long way off, and cries out):
Hola!
ROXANE:
Who is it?
CYRANO:
I--I was but passing by. . .
Is Christian there?
CHRISTIAN (astonished):
Cyrano!
ROXANE:
Good-day, cousin!
CYRANO:
Cousin, good-day!
ROXANE:
I'm coming!
(She disappears into the house. At the back re-enter the friar.)
CHRISTIAN (seeing him):
Back again!
(He follows Roxane.)
Scene 3.X.
Cyrano, Christian, Roxane, the friar, Ragueneau.
THE FRIAR:
'Tis here,--I'm sure of it--Madame Madeleine Robin.
CYRANO:
Why, you said Ro-LIN.
THE FRIAR:
No, not I.
B,I,N,BIN!
ROXANE (appearing on the threshold, followed by Ragueneau, who carries a
lantern, and Christian):
What is't?
THE FRIAR:
A letter.
CHRISTIAN:
What?
THE FRIAR (to Roxane):
Oh, it can boot but a holy business!
'Tis from a worthy lord. . .
ROXANE (to Christian):
De Guiche!
CHRISTIAN:
He dares. . .
ROXANE:
Oh, he will not importune me forever!
(Unsealing the letter):
I love you,--therefore--
(She reads in a low voice by the aid of Ragueneau's lantern):
'Lady,
The drums beat;
My regiment buckles its harness on
And starts; but I,--they deem me gone before--
But I stay. I have dared to disobey
Your mandate. I am here in convent walls.
I come to you to-night. By this poor monk--
A simple fool who knows not what he bears--
I send this missive to apprise your ear.
Your lips erewhile have smiled on me, too sweet:
I go not ere I've seen them once again!
I would be private; send each soul away,
Receive alone him,--whose great boldness you
Have deigned, I hope, to pardon, ere he asks,--
He who is ever your--et cetera.'
(To the monk):
Father, this is the matter of the letter:--
(All come near her, and she reads aloud):
'Lady,
The Cardinal's wish is law; albeit
It be to you unwelcome. For this cause
I send these lines--to your fair ear addressed--
By a holy man, discreet, intelligent:
It is our will that you receive from him,
In your own house, the marriage
(She turns the page):
benediction
Straightway, this night. Unknown to all the world
Christian becomes your husband. Him we send.
He is abhorrent to your choice. Let be.
Resign yourself, and this obedience
Will be by Heaven well recompensed. Receive,
Fair lady, all assurance of respect,
From him who ever was, and still remains,
Your humble and obliged--et cetera.'
THE FRIAR (with great delight):
O worthy lord! I knew naught was to fear;
It could be but holy business!
ROXANE (to Christian, in a low voice):
Am I not apt at reading letters?
CHRISTIAN:
Hum!
ROXANE (aloud, with despair):
But this is horrible!
THE FRIAR (who has turned his lantern on Cyrano):
'Tis you?
CHRISTIAN:
'Tis I!
THE FRIAR (turning the light on to him, and as if a doubt struck him on seeing
his beauty):
But. . .
ROXANE (quickly):
I have overlooked the postscript--see:--
'Give twenty pistoles for the Convent.'
THE FRIAR:
. . .Oh!
Most worthy lord!
(To Roxane):
Submit you?
ROXANE (with a martyr's look):
I submit!
(While Ragueneau opens the door, and Christian invites the friar to enter, she
whispers to Cyrano):
Oh, keep De Guiche at bay! He will be here!
Let him not enter till. . .
CYRANO:
I understand!
(To the friar):
What time need you to tie the marriage-knot?
THE FRIAR:
A quarter of an hour.
CYRANO (pushing them all toward the house):
Go! I stay.
ROXANE (to Christian):
Come!. . .
(They enter.)
CYRANO:
Now, how to detain De Guiche so long?
(He jumps on the bench, climbs to the balcony by the wall):
Come!. . .up I go!. . .I have my plan!. . .
(The lutes begin to play a very sad air):
What, ho!
(The tremolo grows more and more weird):
It is a man! ay! 'tis a man this time!
(He is on the balcony, pulls his hat over his eyes, takes off his sword, wraps
himself in his cloak, then leans over):
'Tis not too high!
(He strides across the balcony, and drawing to him a long branch of one of the
trees that are by the garden wall, he hangs on to it with both hands, ready to
let himself fall):
I'll shake this atmosphere!
Scene 3.XI.
Cyrano, De Guiche.
DE GUICHE (who enters, masked, feeling his way in the dark):
What can that cursed Friar be about?
CYRANO:
The devil!. . .If he knows my voice!
(Letting go with one hand, he pretends to turn an invisible key. Solemnly):
Cric! Crac!
Assume thou, Cyrano, to serve the turn,
The accent of thy native Bergerac!. . .
DE GUICHE (looking at the house):
'Tis there. I see dim,--this mask hinders me!
(He is about to enter, when Cyrano leaps from the balcony, holding on to the
branch, which bends, dropping him between the door and De Guiche; he pretends
to fall heavily, as from a great height, and lies flat on the ground,
motionless, as if stunned. De Guiche starts back):
What's this?
(When he looks up, the branch has sprung back into its place. He sees only
the sky, and is lost in amazement):
Where fell that man from?
CYRANO (sitting up, and speaking with a Gascon accent):
From the moon!
DE GUICHE:
From?. . .
CYRANO (in a dreamy voice):
What's o'clock?
DE GUICHE:
He's lost his mind, for sure!
CYRANO:
What hour? What country this? What month? What day?
DE GUICHE:
But. . .
CYRANO:
I am stupefied!
DE GUICHE:
Sir!
CYRANO:
Like a bomb
I fell from the moon!
DE GUICHE (impatiently):
Come now!
CYRANO (rising, in a terrible voice):
I say,--the moon!
DE GUICHE (recoiling):
Good, good! let it be so!. . .He's raving mad!
CYRANO (walking up to him):
I say from the moon! I mean no metaphor!. . .
DE GUICHE:
But. . .
CYRANO:
Was't a hundred years--a minute, since?
--I cannot guess what time that fall embraced!--
That I was in that saffron-colored ball?
DE GUICHE (shrugging his shoulders):
Good! let me pass!
CYRANO (intercepting him):
Where am I? Tell the truth!
Fear not to tell! Oh, spare me not! Where? where?
Have I fallen like a shooting star?
DE GUICHE:
Morbleu!
CYRANO:
The fall was lightning-quick! no time to choose
Where I should fall--I know not where it be!
Oh, tell me! Is it on a moon or earth,
that my posterior weight has landed me?
DE GUICHE:
I tell you, Sir. . .
CYRANO (with a screech of terror, which makes De Guiche start back):
No? Can it be? I'm on
A planet where men have black faces?
DE GUICHE (putting a hand to his face):
What?
CYRANO (feigning great alarm):
Am I in Africa? A native you?
DE GUICHE (who has remembered his mask):
This mask of mine. . .
CYRANO (pretending to be reassured):
In Venice? ha!--or Rome?
DE GUICHE (trying to pass):
A lady waits. .
CYRANO (quite reassured):
Oh-ho! I am in Paris!
DE GUICHE (smiling in spite of himself):
The fool is comical!
CYRANO:
You laugh?
DE GUICHE:
I laugh,
But would get by!
CYRANO (beaming with joy):
I have shot back to Paris!
(Quite at ease, laughing, dusting himself, bowing):
Come--pardon me--by the last water-spout,
Covered with ether,--accident of travel!
My eyes still full of star-dust, and my spurs
Encumbered by the planets' filaments!
(Picking something off his sleeve):
Ha! on my doublet?--ah, a comet's hair!. . .
(He puffs as if to blow it away.)
DE GUICHE (beside himself):
Sir!. . .
CYRANO (just as he is about to pass, holds out his leg as if to show him
something and stops him):
In my leg--the calf--there is a tooth
Of the Great Bear, and, passing Neptune close,
I would avoid his trident's point, and fell,
Thus sitting, plump, right in the Scales! My weight
Is marked, still registered, up there in heaven!
(Hurriedly preventing De Guiche from passing, and detaining him by the button
of his doublet):
I swear to you that if you squeezed my nose
It would spout milk!
DE GUICHE:
Milk?
CYRANO:
From the Milky Way!
DE GUICHE:
Oh, go to hell!
CYRANO (crossing his arms):
I fall, Sir, out of heaven!
Now, would you credit it, that as I fell
I saw that Sirius wears a nightcap? True!
(Confidentially):
The other Bear is still too small to bite.
(Laughing):
I went through the Lyre, but I snapped a cord;
(Grandiloquent):
I mean to write the whole thing in a book;
The small gold stars, that, wrapped up in my cloak,
I carried safe away at no small risks,
Will serve for asterisks i' the printed page!
DE GUICHE:
Come, make an end! I want. . .
CYRANO:
Oh-ho! You are sly!
DE GUICHE:
Sir!
CYRANO:
You would worm all out of me!--the way
The moon is made, and if men breathe and live
In its rotund cucurbita?
DE GUICHE (angrily):
No, no!
I want. . .
CYRANO:
Ha, ha!--to know how I got up?
Hark, it was by a method all my own.
DE GUICHE (wearied):
He's mad!
CYRANO(contemptuously):
No! not for me the stupid eagle
Of Regiomontanus, nor the timid
Pigeon of Archytas--neither of those!
DE GUICHE:
Ay, 'tis a fool! But 'tis a learned fool!
CYRANO:
No imitator I of other men!
(De Guiche has succeeded in getting by, and goes toward Roxane's door. Cyrano
follows him, ready to stop him by force):