Edmond Rostand

“ CHRISTIAN:
Oh! I take them back!
CYRANO:
Roxane expects a letter.
CHRISTIAN:
Woe the day!
CYRANO:
How?
CHRISTIAN:
I am lost if I but ope my lips!
CYRANO:
Why so?
CHRISTIAN:
I am a fool—could die for shame!
CYRANO:
None is a fool who knows himself a fool.
And you did not attack me like a fool.
CHRISTIAN:
Bah! One finds battle-cry to lead th’ assault!
I have a certain military wit,
But, before women, can but hold my tongue.
Their eyes! True, when I pass, their eyes are kind. . .
CYRANO:
And, when you stay, their hearts, methinks, are kinder? ”

“ CYRANO:
By all oaths that can be sworn,—’tis flattering!
ROXANE:
They are the lines of a master!
CYRANO (modestly) :
Come, nay. . .a master?. . .
ROXANE:
Ay, I say it—a master!
CYRANO:
Good—be it so.
THE DUENNA (coming down quickly) :
Here comes Monsieur de Guiche!
(To Cyrano, pushing him toward the house) :
In with you! ’twere best he see you not; it might perchance put him on the scent. . .
ROXANE (to Cyrano) :
Ay, of my own dear secret! He loves me, and is powerful, and, if he knew,
then all were lost! Marry! he could well deal a deathblow to my love! ”

“ CYRANO:
He pays less dear
Than I myself; when a verse pleases me
I pay myself, and sing it to myself!
DE GUICHE:
You are proud.
CYRANO:
Really? You have noticed that?
A CADET (entering, with a string of old battered plumed beaver hats, full of holes, slung on his sword) :
See, Cyrano,—this morning, on the quay
What strange bright-feathered game we caught!
The hats
O’ the fugitives. . .
CARBON:
‘Spolia opima!’
ALL (laughing) :
Ah! ah! ah!
CUIGY:
He who laid that ambush, ’faith!
Must curse and swear!
BRISSAILLE:
Who was it?
DE GUICHE:
I myself. ”

“ ROXANE (startled) :
What! the Guards?
DE GUICHE:
Ay, where serves your cousin, the swaggering boaster. I will find a way to
revenge myself on him at Arras.
ROXANE (choking) :
What mean you? The Guards go to Arras?
DE GUICHE (laughing) :
Bethink you, is it not my own regiment?
ROXANE (falling seated on the bench—aside) :
Christian!
DE GUICHE:
What ails you?
ROXANE (moved deeply) :
Oh—I am in despair! The man one loves!—at the war!
DE GUICHE (surprised and delighted) :
You say such sweet words to me! ’Tis the first time!—and just when I must
quit you! ”

“ CHRISTIAN:
To Monsieur de Valvert!
LIGNIÈRE:
Have a care! It is he who will kill you
(showing him Roxane by a look) :
Stay where you are—she is looking at you.
CHRISTIAN:
It is true!
(He stands looking at her. The group of pickpockets seeing him thus, head in air and open-mouthed, draw near to him.)
LIGNIÈRE:
’Tis I who am going. I am athirst! And they expect me—in the taverns!
(He goes out, reeling.)
LE BRET (who has been all round the hall, coming back to Ragueneau reassured) :
No sign of Cyrano.
RAGUENEAU (incredulously) :
All the same. . . ”

“ 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! ”

“ ROXANE (throwing a folded tablecloth at Cyrano’s head) :
Unfold me that napkin!—Come, come! be nimble!
RAGUENEAU (waving a lantern) :
Each of the carriage-lamps is a little larder!
CYRANO (in a low voice to Christian, as they arrange the cloth together) :
I must speak with you ere you speak to her.
RAGUENEAU:
My whip-handle is an Arles sausage!
ROXANE (pouring out wine, helping) :
Since we are to die, let the rest of the army shift for itself. All for the
Gascons! And mark! if De Guiche comes, let no one invite him! ”

“ LISE (offended) :
One haughty glance of my eye can conquer any man that should dare venture
aught ’gainst my virtue.
CYRANO:
Pooh! Conquering eyes, methinks, are oft conquered eyes.
LISE (choking with anger) :
But—
CYRANO (incisively) :
I like Ragueneau well, and so—mark me, Dame Lise—I permit not that he be
rendered a laughing-stock by any. . .
LISE:
But. . .
CYRANO (who has raised his voice so as to be heard by the gallant) :
A word to the wise. . .
(He bows to the musketeer, and goes to the doorway to watch, after looking at the clock.) ”

“ CHRISTIAN (trying to detain her) :
Oh! tell me why you came?
ROXANE:
Wait; my first duty is to these poor fellows.—Hush! In a few minutes. . .
LE BRET (who had gone up to pass a loaf on the end of a lance to the sentry on the rampart) :
De Guiche!
CYRANO:
Quick! hide flasks, plates, pie-dishes, game-baskets! Hurry!—Let us all look unconscious!
(To Ragueneau) :
Up on your seat!—Is everything covered up?
(In an instant all has been pushed into the tents, or hidden under doublets, cloaks, and beavers. De Guiche enters hurriedly—stops suddenly, sniffing the air. Silence.) ”

“ Play a long time,—and play out of tune!
(To the duenna) :
. . .Whether her soul’s elected is ever the same, ever faultless!
ROXANE (coming out of the house) :
Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And—how well I love him!
CYRANO (smiling) :
Christian has so brilliant a wit?
ROXANE:
Brighter than even your own, cousin!
CYRANO:
Be it so, with all my heart!
ROXANE:
Ah! methinks ’twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth
skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much—
that mean all! ”

“ What, ho! Cadets of Gascony!
All jealous lovers are sport for you!
O Woman! dear divinity!
What, ho! Cadets of Gascony!
Whom scowling husbands quake to see.
Blow, ‘taratara,’ and cry ‘Cuckoo.’
What, ho! Cadets of Gascony!
Husbands and lovers are game for you!
DE GUICHE (seated with haughty carelessness in an armchair brought quickly by Ragueneau) :
A poet! ’Tis the fashion of the hour!
—Will you be mine?
CYRANO:
No, Sir,—no man’s!
DE GUICHE:
Last night
Your fancy pleased my uncle Richelieu.
I’ll gladly say a word to him for you.
LE BRET (overjoyed) :
Great Heavens! ”

“ CHRISTIAN (to Cyrano, pulling him by his cloak) :
Why?
CYRANO:
Silence, Christian! Hush!
ROXANE (leaning over) :
What whisper you?
CYRANO:
I chid myself for my too bold advances;
Said, ‘Silence, Christian!’
(The lutes begin to play) :
Hark! Wait awhile,. . .
Steps come!
(Roxane shuts the window. Cyrano listens to the lutes, one of which plays a merry, the other a melancholy, tune) :
Why, they play sad—then gay—then sad! What? Neither man nor woman?—oh!
a monk!
(Enter a capuchin friar, with a lantern. He goes from house to house, looking at every door.) ”

“ CHRISTIAN (still kissing Roxane) :
—’Tis hard to leave her, you know not. . .
CYRANO (trying to draw him away) :
I know.
(Sound of drums beating a march in the distance.)
DE GUICHE:
The regiment starts!
ROXANE (To Cyrano, holding back Christian, whom Cyrano is drawing away) :
Oh!—I trust him you!
Promise me that no risks shall put his life
In danger!
CYRANO:
I will try my best, but promise. . .
That I cannot!
ROXANE:
But swear he shall be prudent?
CYRANO:
Again, I’ll do my best, but. . .
ROXANE:
In the siege
Let him not suffer!
CYRANO:
All that man can do,
I. . ”

“ CYRANO:
Oh! scold away!
LE BRET:
At least, you will agree
That to annihilate each chance of Fate
Exaggerates. . .
CYRANO:
Yes!—I exaggerate!
LE BRET (triumphantly) :
Ah!
CYRANO:
But for principle—example too,—
I think ’tis well thus to exaggerate.
LE BRET:
Oh! lay aside that pride of musketeer,
Fortune and glory wait you!. . .
CYRANO:
Ay, and then?. . .
Seek a protector, choose a patron out,
And like the crawling ivy round a tree
That licks the bark to gain the trunk’s support,
Climb high by creeping ruse instead of force? ”

“ ROXANE (smiling) :
’Tis somewhat small.
CARBON (tying the handkerchief on the staff of his lance) :
But—’tis of lace!
A CADET (to the rest) :
I could die happy, having seen so sweet a face, if I had something in my stomach—were it but a nut!
CARBON (who has overheard, indignantly) :
Shame on you! What, talk of eating when a lovely woman!. . .
ROXANE:
But your camp air is keen; I myself am famished. Pasties, cold fricassée, old wines—there is my bill of fare? Pray bring it all here. ”

“ CYRANO:
With practice such gymnastic grows less hard!
ROXANE:
In truth, I seem to speak from distant heights!
CYRANO:
True, far above; at such a height ’twere death
If a hard word from you fell on my heart.
ROXANE (moving) :
I will come down. . .
CYRANO (hastily) :
No!
ROXANE (showing him the bench under the balcony) :
Mount then on the bench!
CYRANO (starting back alarmed) :
No!
ROXANE:
How, you will not?
CYRANO (more and more moved) :
Stay awhile! ’Tis sweet,. . .
The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak
Our selves unseen, unseeing! ”

“ VOICE OF CADETS:
No!
RAGUENEAU (standing on the top of his carriage, watches the battle over the edge of the ramparts) :
The danger’s ever greater!
CYRANO (to De Guiche—pointing to Roxane) :
I will charge!
Take her away!
ROXANE (kissing the letter—in a half-extinguished voice) :
O God! his tears! his blood!. . .
RAGUENEAU (jumping down from the carriage and rushing toward her) :
She’s swooned away!
DE GUICHE (on the rampart—to the cadets—with fury) :
Stand fast!
A VOICE (outside) :
Lay down your arms! ”

“ ROXANE (leaning over the balcony) :
Well said!
—But why so faltering? Has mental palsy
Seized on your faculty imaginative?
CYRANO (drawing Christian under the balcony, and slipping into his place) :
Give place! This waxes critical!. . .
ROXANE:
To-day. . .
Your words are hesitating.
CYRANO (imitating Christian—in a whisper) :
Night has come. . .
In the dusk they grope their way to find your ear.
ROXANE:
But my words find no such impediment.
CYRANO:
They find their way at once? Small wonder that!
For ’tis within my heart they find their home ”

“ ROXANE:
Now serve up—carve! Look a little closer at my coachman, gentlemen, and you will recognize a man most welcome. All the sauces can be sent to table hot, if we will!
THE CADETS (rushing pellmell to the carriage) :
’Tis Ragueneau!
(Acclamations) :
Oh, oh!
ROXANE (looking after them) :
Poor fellows!
CYRANO (kissing her hand) :
Kind fairy!
RAGUENEAU (standing on the box like a quack doctor at a fair) :
Gentlemen!. . .
(General delight.)
THE CADETS:
Bravo! bravo!
RAGUENEAU:
. . .The Spaniards, gazing on a lady so dainty fair, overlooked the fare so dainty!. . . ”

“ 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. ”

“ CHRISTIAN:
I!
ROXANE:
Who’s that?
CHRISTIAN:
Christian!
ROXANE (disdainfully) :
Oh! you?
CHRISTIAN:
I would speak with you.
CYRANO (under the balcony—to Christian) :
Good. Speak soft and low.
ROXANE:
No, you speak stupidly!
CHRISTIAN:
Oh, pity me!
ROXANE:
No! you love me no more!
CHRISTIAN (prompted by Cyrano) :
You say—Great Heaven!
I love no more?—when—I—love more and more!
ROXANE (who was about to shut the casement, pausing) :
Hold! ’tis a trifle better! ay, a trifle!
CHRISTIAN (same play) :
Love grew apace, rocked by the anxious beating. . . ”