CYRANO,LE BRET,THE DUENNA.
THE DUENNA(with a long curtsy).
A fair cousin would like to know where a valiant cousin can be seen, in private.
CYRANO(greatly disturbed).
I be seen, in private?
DUENNA(with another curtsy).
Yes, be seen. There are things to be said.
CYRANO.
There are things....
DUENNA(another curtsy).
To be said.
CYRANO(staggering).
Heavens!
DUENNA.
We'll hear to-morrow early mass, at the church of Saint-Roch.
CYRANO(leaning on Le Bret).
Heavens!
DUENNA.
As we go out, we can chat a bit, I fancy.
CYRANO(bewildered).
Where?.... I .... But .... Heavens!
DUENNA.
Decide.
CYRANO.
I'm thinking....
DUENNA.
Where?....
CYRANO.
At.... at.... Ragueneau's.... the pastry-cook's....
DUENNA.
Where's that?....
CYRANO.
Rue.... Rue.... Heavens! Rue St.-Honoré!
DUENNA(leaving).
We'll be there by seven sharp. Be punctual.
CYRANO.
I shall!
(Exit Duenna.)
CYRANO,LE BRET,THE COMEDIANSandCOMEDIENNES,CUIGY,BRISSAILLE,LIGNIÈRE,THE JANITOR,THE VIOLINS.
CYRANO(falling into the arms of Le Bret).
I!.... She.... An appointment!....
LE BRET.
So, now your sadness is no more?
CYRANO.
No! for, whatever the reason, she knows that I exist!
LE BRET.
And now you will be cool?
CYRANO(beside himself).
No, I'll be frantic and invincible! I would I had an army to defeat! I have ten hearts and twenty arms. What aredwarfs to me?.... (He shouts.) I must have giants to vanquish!
(For the last few minutes, on the stage, in the rear, actors and actresses have been going and coming: a rehearsal is on. The violins have taken their seats.)
A VOICE(from the stage).
Silence there, please! We're rehearsing.
CYRANO(laughing).
Very well. We're leaving.
(As Cyrano is about going, enter, by the wide door in the rear, Cuigy, Brissaille, and several officers, supporting Lignière, who is completely intoxicated.)
CUIGY.
Cyrano!
CYRANO.
What is it?
CUIGY.
A friend of yours.
CYRANO(recognising Lignière).
Lignière!.... Why! what is the matter?
CUIGY.
He was looking for you.
BRISSAILLE.
He cannot get home.
CYRANO.
Why not?
LIGNIÈRE(thick-tongued, showing a note soiled and torn).
This note warns me .... a hundred men are posted .... on account of a song .... I'll be murdered .... at the Porte de Nesle .... there I must pass .... to gethome .... Offer me shelter .... under your roof!
CYRANO.
One hundred men, you say? You'll sleep under your own roof.
LIGNIÈRE(terrified).
But how can I?....
CYRANO(in fierce tones, showing him the lighted lantern held by the Janitor, who has been listening).
Take that lantern!
(Lignière seizes the lantern.)
And walk on boldly. I swear to you that I to-night will make your bed for you. (To the officers.) You, gentlemen, be good enough to follow .... at a distance. You'll be witnesses.
CUIGY.
Yes, but one hundred men!....
CYRANO.
To-night I would not have them fewer by a single man!
(The comedians and comediennes, who have, in their costumes, come down from the stage into the pit, crowd around Cyrano.)
LE BRET.
But why protect this....
CYRANO.
There's Le Bret grumbling again!
LE BRET.
This commonplace drunkard?....
CYRANO(playfully striking Lignière on the shoulder).
Because this drunkard, this cask of Muscatel, this barrel of Rossoli, once did something exceedingly handsome: his lady-love, as she was leaving church, after mass, havingproperly dipped her dainty finger into the holy water near the door, he, though he has a horror for water, ran up to the stoup, leaned over it and drank it dry!
COMEDIENNE(in soubrette's dress).
A pretty deed, I think.
CYRANO.
Was it not, soubrette?
COMEDIENNE(to the others).
But why a hundred men against a poor poet?
CYRANO.
Let us on!.... (to the officers) .... and you, gentlemen, when you see me charge, please do not follow; simply look on, whatever danger I may be in!
COMEDIENNE.
But we wish to see too!
CYRANO.
Come along, then!
COMEDIENNE(to the troop).
Let us all go?
CYRANO.
Come, all of you, the Doctor, Isabella, Leander, all! Come as a bevy pleasant and frolicsome! Come, and let the fantasy of Italian farce tinkle through the rumble of to-night's Spanish drama, surrounding it with jingles like a tambourine!
THE WOMEN(jumping for joy).
Bravo! Quick, a wrap! a hood!....
JODELET.
Let us proceed!
CYRANO(to the violins).
Will the violins supply the music?
(The violins join the formation. Candles are taken from the footlights and distributed; and thus a torch-light procession is prepared.)
CYRANO.
Bravo! Officers, gentlemen and women in fancy dress! Now, ten steps ahead .... (he places himself as he speaks) I, alone, beneath the plume that glory itself stuck into this hat .... proud as a Scipion thrice Nasica!.... Understood?.... All assistance to me is forbidden! Ready?.... Open the door!
(Janitor opens the door, through which can be seen a bit of old Paris, picturesque in the moonlight.)
Ah! Paris in the dimness of the night,With moonlight trickling down the bluish roofs.For coming deed how exquisite the frame!'Neath mist as light as gauze, behold! the Seine,As if it were a magic mirror there,Is trembling .... and you'll see what you shall see!
ALL.
To the Porte de Nesle!
CYRANO(on the threshold).
To the Porte de Nesle!
(Turning, before going out, to the soubrette).
Did you not ask, Madamoiselle, why against this one rimester a hundred men were sent?
(He draws his sword and continues very quietly.)
Because he is known to be a friend of mine!
(Exit Cyrano. The procession—Lignière with unsteady head—the comediennes hanging upon the arms of the officers, then the comedians dancing and capering—moves out into the night, with the violins for music, and with candles for light.)
CURTAIN.
Photograph from Play.FIRST ACT.
The shop of Ragueneau, poulterer and pastry-cook, a large establishment in Paris, on the corner of the Rue St.-Honoré and the Rue de l'Arbre-Sec. In the rear, through the wide glazed door, the streets are plainly seen, grey in the light of dawn.
To the left, first entrance, a counter, above which is an iron frame, from hooks on which are suspended geese, ducks and white peacocks. Large crockery vases containing ordinary plants, principally sunflowers. On the same side, second entrance, a wide fireplace, before which, between two monumental andirons, on each of which a pot is hung, several roasts, the fat of which is dripping into pans.
To the right, first entrance, a door. Second entrance, a staircase leading up to a small inside room, the interior of which is visible through its open blinds; a table is there, with cover set, lighted by a Flemish chandelier. A wooden gallery at the top of the staircase leads seemingly to other rooms of the same sort.
In the centre of the shop, an iron ring is hung: it can be lowered by means of a pulley, and on it are large pieces of game, meat, hams, etc. It forms a peculiar sort of chandelier.
Under the staircase, the glow of several ovens. Copper saucepans shine. Spits are turning. Morning activity. Cook-boys run in and out. Fat chefs are seen now and then. Loads of cakes and meat-pies are brought in on willow trays.
Tables are garnished with cakes and eatables. Other tables, with chairs around, are prepared for customers. A small table in a corner is covered with papers. Before it is seated Ragueneau, who is writing, as the curtain rises.
RAGUENEAU,PASTRY-COOKS,thenLISE.RAGUENEAUis writing and counts on his fingers.
FIRST PASTRY-COOK(bearing a dish).
Candied fruits!
SECOND PASTRY-COOK(with another dish).
Pie!
THIRD PASTRY-COOK(with a roast).
Peacock!
FOURTH PASTRY-COOK(with a tray).
Cakes!
FIFTH PASTRY-COOK(with an earthen bowl).
Stewed beef!
RAGUENEAU(stops writing and looks up).
The copper's yellow sheen is silvered by the dawn[12]Now smother, Ragueneau, the godly notes you love!Sweet poesy must wait—just now is cooking time!
(He rises. To one of the cooks).
Look here! Your sauce is thick, and you must lengthen it.
COOK.
How much?
RAGUENEAU.
Three feet.
(Passes on.)
O Muse, keep thou aloof, or else your pleading eyesWill suffer from the glare of vulgar fires here!
(to one of the pastry-cooks).
These loaves are badly set, the split should not be thus,Cesuras should be placed between the hemstitches.
(to another, pointing to an unfinished meat-pie).
This palace made of crust is fine, but needs a roof.
(to an apprentice boy who, seated on the floor, is running a fowl on a spit).
The spit is long enough for chickens, turkeys, all,But alternate, my boy, and imitate Malherbe:His lines the longest were relieved by shorter ones.Do you the same, prepare real stanzas on the spit!
ANOTHER APPRENTICE(carrying a tray over which is a large napkin).
Dear Master, this for you was in the oven cooked.We wish to please you, Sir!
RAGUENEAU.
A lyre!
THE APPRENTICE.
Made of paste!
RAGUENEAU(moved).
Of candied fruits besides! And strings of sugar, too!
THE APPRENTICE.
To give a sweeter tone!
RAGUENEAU(handing him some money).
It's fine; go drink my health
(seeing Lise, as she enters).
My wife! Be silent—skip!
(to Lise, showing her the lyre).
Fine work!
LISE.
Ridiculous!
(She lays on the counter a bundle of paper bags.)
RAGUENEAU.
Some bags; I thank you, dear.
(Looks at the bags.)
The manuscripts I love!The verses of my friends! All mutilated! Torn!To serve as wrappers for .... such prosy things as cakes!It's Orpheus once again pursued by the Bacchantes!
LISE(harshly).
I use the only thing your friends in payment give;Your sorry scribblers bent on not completing lines!
RAGUENEAU.
The ant should not insult the magic cricket's song!
LISE.
Before these crickets thus possessed you wholly, dear,You never said to me: bacchante, or even: ant!
RAGUENEAU.
Treat verses thus!
LISE.
Why not?
RAGUENEAU.
What would you do with prose?
The same,TWO CHILDRENcome in to buy cakes.
RAGUENEAU.
What is it, little ones?
FIRST CHILD.
We want three patties, please.
RAGUENEAU(serving them).
Here they are, well-browned, just out of the oven.
SECOND CHILD.
Please wrap them up for us.
RAGUENEAU(aside).
Alas! my bags!
(to the children). Oh! wrap them up, hey?....
(takes one of the bags to use it, but first reads from it).
"As was Ulysses when he left Penelope...."Not this one!....
(puts the bag aside, and takes up another, from which also he reads).
LISE(out of patience).
Well, what are you waiting for?
RAGUENEAU.
Coming! Coming!
(takes up a third bag and then with resignation).
The sonnet to Philis!.... pretty hard too!
LISE.
You were long enough about it!
(shrugging her shoulders).
Goose!
(She climbs upon a chair to arrange dishes and plates on a shelf.)
RAGUENEAU(taking advantage of the fact that her back is turned, calls back the children who were just passing out).
Pst!.... Little ones!.... Return me the bag and instead of three patties I'll give you six.
(The children give him the bag, take the cakes and leave. Ragueneau smoothes the paper and reads).
"Philis!" .... On this sweet name, a grease spot!.... "Philis!"
(Cyrano enters abruptly.)
RAGUENEAU,LISE,CYRANO,thenA MUSKETEER.
CYRANO.
What time is it?
RAGUENEAU(bowing low to him).
Six o'clock.
CYRANO(excited).
In one hour!
(Walks to and fro through the shop.)
RAGUENEAU(following him).
Bravo! I witnessed....
CYRANO.
What?
RAGUENEAU.
Your fight.
CYRANO.
Which one?
RAGUENEAU.
The one at the Hôtel de Bourgogne.
CYRANO(disdainfully).
Oh!.... that duel!....
RAGUENEAU(admiringly).
Yes, your duel in verse.
LISE(aside).
In verse!.... His mouth seems to him too small for the words!
CYRANO(to Ragueneau).
Ah!.... So much the better!
RAGUENEAU(lunging with the spit he has seized).
"For, when I close th' Envoy, I'll touch!....""For, when I close th' Envoy, I'll touch!...."How beautiful!.... (with growing enthusiasm)."For, when I close th' Envoy,...."
CYRANO.
Ragueneau, what time is it?
RAGUENEAU(remaining with arm and leg outstretched, simply turning his head to look at the clock).
Five minutes after six!....
"I touch!"
(He rises.)
Oh! to write a ballade!
LISE(to Cyrano, who, on passing near her, has absent-mindedly shaken hands with her).
Why! what is the matter with your hand?
CYRANO.
Oh! nothing! A scratch.
RAGUENEAU.
Were you exposed to any peril?
CYRANO.
No peril!
LISE(threatening him with her finger).
I fear you are not telling the truth!
CYRANO.
What! Did my nose move? What an enormous lie that would indicate! (becoming serious). I expect somebody here. If that somebody comes—you never can tell,—please leave us here alone.
RAGUENEAU.
That is hardly possible; my rimesters[13]are coming....
LISE(ironical).
For their first meal.
CYRANO.
You will have to take them away when I make a sign to you.... What time is it?
RAGUENEAU.
Ten minutes after six.
CYRANO(sitting down nervously at Ragueneau's table, and taking some paper).
A pen, please!....
RAGUENEAU(offering him the one that he has behind his ear).
A swan quill.
A MUSKETEER(with an enormous mustache and stentorian voice)enters.
Good morning!
(Lise goes rapidly up to him.)
CYRANO(turning around).
Who is this?
RAGUENEAU.
A friend of my wife's. A terrible warrior,—at least so he says!....
CYRANO(taking up the pen and motioning away Ragueneau).
Silence!.... write—fold,—(to himself) hand it to her,—and run away....
(throwing away the pen). Coward!....But may I die if I dare speak to her, even a single word....
(to Ragueneau). What time is it?
RAGUENEAU.
A quarter past six!....
CYRANO(striking his breast).
But I have plenty of words here, and by writing....
(Takes up the pen.)
So be it then! I'll write.—This letter fraughtWith love, I've thought it out a hundred times;It's ready, and, to close it, I have butTo read my soul, and copy what I read.
(He writes. Behind the glazed door, a movement of lean and hesitating forms.)
RAGUENEAU,LISE,THE MUSKETEER,CYRANO,by the table, writing,THE POETS,clad in black, bedraggled.
LISE(entering, to Ragueneau).
Here are your bedraggled friends!
FIRST POET(entering, to Ragueneau).
Brother-poet!....
SECOND POET(shaking Ragueneau by the hand).
Dear brother-poet!
THIRD POET.
Eagle of pastry-cooks!
(sniffing) It smells good in your nest.
FOURTH POET.
O Phœbus-Caterer! Apollo master-cook!....
RAGUENEAU(somewhat bewildered).
How soon one feels at ease with them!
FIRST POET.
We were delayed a bit by something of a crowd,Close by the Porte de Nesle!....
SECOND POET.
By sword both slashed and pierced,Eight cut-throats bleeding fast illustrated the street.
CYRANO(looking up).
Eight?.... I thought seven.
(continues writing.)
RAGUENEAU(to Cyrano).
Who fought so bravely? Do you know?
CYRANO(treating the matter lightly).
I?.... No!
LISE(to the Musketeer).
Do you?
MUSKETEER(curling his mustache).
Perhaps.
CYRANO(writing—mutters a word now and then, aside).
I love you....
FIRST POET.
A single man, they say, put all the band to flight!....
CYRANO(writing).
Your eyes!....
SECOND POET.
Why! Spears and hats were found a hundred yards away!
CYRANO(writing).
Your lips!....
FIRST POET.
Quite fearless must be he who fought so many thus.
CYRANO(writing).
And I am like to faint, outdone, when you appear.
SECOND POET(helping himself to a cake).
What new rimes can you give us, Ragueneau?
CYRANO(writing).
Who loves you!....
(He stops just as he was going to sign, rises, folds the letter and puts it into his doublet.)
Signature unnecessary. I'll hand her the letter myself.
RAGUENEAU(to Second Poet).
I have put a recipe into verse.
THIRD POET(settling near a tray of tarts).
Oh! let us hear the lines.
FOURTH POET.
This cake is crooked. Make it straight.
(Eats it.)
SECOND POET.
We are listening.
THIRD POET.
This tart will lose its cream. We'll save it.
(Eats the tart.)
SECOND POET(breaking off and eating a piece of the candied lyre).
The only time perhaps a lyre's fed its man.
RAGUENEAU(who has been preparing to recite, coughing, settling his cap and striking an attitude).
A recipe in verse....
SECOND POET(to First Poet).
Why! you are breakfasting!
FIRST POET(to Second Poet).
And you are dining, friend!
RAGUENEAU.
HOW TO MAKE ALMOND TARTS.
Beat up to foam, discarding dregs,Your choice of eggs.Add carefully into the foamSome citron juice that's new and stout;Then lengthen outWith milk of almonds made at home.Next, coat with dough, both fresh and sound,Below, around,Such moulds as pastry-cooks prepare.Add sweetening to suit your tasteInto the paste.Then pour quite slowly and with careYour foam into each well[14], so wellThat ev'ry well,When it is baked to blondness, startsTo seek the walks that pleasure sings.These seemly thingsAre rightly christened: almond tarts.
THE POETS(mouths full).
Most exquisite! Divine!
ONE OF THE POETS(choking).
Humph!
(They go to the rear, still eating. Cyrano, who has been watching them, goes up to Ragueneau.)
CYRANO.
They seem to drink your verse, my friend; but see you notHow they assimilate your stock of eatables?
RAGUENEAU(in low tone, smiling).
I see, but notice not, for fear I'd trouble them;And reading so my lines affords me double joy,Since thus I satisfy a weakness that I own,And feed the while poor souls whose pressing need is food!
CYRANO(striking him on the shoulder).
I like you, Ragueneau!....
(Ragueneau joins his friends, the poets. Cyrano looks at him for a while, then suddenly says:)
Tell me there, Lise!
(Lise, who seems to be engaged in a very animated flirtation with the Musketeer, starts and comes down to Cyrano.)
This captain.... seems to be besieging you?
LISE(offended).
Oh! my eyes have a look haughty enough to vanquish all who attack my virtue.
CYRANO(very firmly).
I like Ragueneau very much. For this reason, Mistress Lise, I forbid that anybody should make him ridiculous.[15]
LISE.
But you mistake....
CYRANO(speaking loud, so as to be heard by the Musketeer).
A word to the wise....
(He bows to the Musketeer, and, after looking at the clock, goes to the door, where he stands looking out.)
LISE(to the Musketeer, who simply returned Cyrano's bow).
Really, you surprise me!.... Why do you not answer?.... Speak of his nose....
THE MUSKETEER.
His nose.... his nose.... that is easily said....
(Retires rapidly, Lise following.)
CYRANO(from the door, signals to Ragueneau to draw away the poets).
Pst!....
RAGUENEAU(pointing out to the Poets the door to the right).
We shall be much more comfortable in there....
CYRANO(getting out of patience).
Pst!.... Pst!....
RAGUENEAU(pushing the Poets along).
We'll read some more verses.
FIRST POET(in despair, with his mouth full).
But the cakes!....
SECOND POET.
Let us take them along.
(They all go out, following Ragueneau, in a sort of procession, after having loaded themselves with cakes.)
CYRANO,ROXANE,THE DUENNA.
CYRANO.
I shall hand her my letter if I feel that there is any hope, however slight!....
(Roxane, masked, and followed by the Duenna, appears behind the glazed door, that Cyrano opens eagerly.)
Be pleased to enter!....
(Walking up to the Duenna). As to you, Duenna, one word!
DUENNA.
Four words, if you will, Sir.
CYRANO.
Are you fond of cake and such?
DUENNA.
To and beyond excess.[16]
CYRANO(taking paper bags from the counter).
Good! Here are two sonnets....
DUENNA.
Ugh!
CYRANO.
....That I fill with tartlets.
DUENNA(looking pleasant).
Ah!
CYRANO.
Are you fond of cream cakes?
DUENNA.
More than fond when they contain too much cream!
CYRANO.
Here are six for you, wrapped in a poem. Do you like all cakes?
DUENNA.
All, all, all.
CYRANO(loading her with paper bags full of cakes).
Here are a few. Go now and eat them.... outside.
DUENNA.
But I....
CYRANO(pushing her out).
And do not return until you have eaten them all.
(He closes the door, comes down toward Roxane, takes off his hat, and stops, respectfully, at a distance.)
CYRANO,ROXANE,and, a moment,THE DUENNA.
CYRANO.
Among all moments be the present blessed,Since, ceasing to forget that I exist,—However humbly—you have come to say....To say....
ROXANE(who has unmasked).
To say: I thank you heartily.For, know you now, the fop, the brainless wretchYou vanquished yesterday in noble strife,Was being forced upon me....
(bashfully)
....As a mateFor life, by one who says he loves me....
CYRANO.
Guiche!....Who's good at scheming thus....
(saluting)
So then I fought,Not for my nose, but for your smiling eyes.
ROXANE.
And then I wished.... but the admission needsThat I should find in you.... the brother thatYou were of yore....when we were children both.
CYRANO.
When Bergerac was our summer ground....
ROXANE.
And reeds made up your goodly stock of swords....
CYRANO.
While waving corn gave flowing hair for dolls.
ROXANE.
What happy days! For you my will was law....
CYRANO.
You're now Roxane; you then were Madeleine.
ROXANE.
And pretty?
CYRANO.
You were not a sorry sight.
ROXANE.
How often, romping, you would get a hurt!Then, motherly, I'd say, in sternest voice:"Another frolic and another scratch!"....
(She stops astonished.)
The same to-day! What's this?
(Cyrano tries to withdraw his hand.)
No, let me see!You're still a boy, it seems.—Say when and how!
CYRANO.
At play just now, around the Porte de Nesle.
ROXANE(taking a seat at one of the tables, and wetting her handkerchief in a glass of water).
Your hand!
CYRANO(taking a seat near her).
How gently thoughtful you've remained!
ROXANE.
How many foes?
CYRANO.
Not quite a hundred.
ROXANE.
Oh!Do tell me all!
CYRANO.
What for? It's better farYou tell me what you did not dare to say....
ROXANE.
But now I dare. The memories of yoreAssist me. I'm....in love with somebody.
CYRANO.
Indeed!
ROXANE.
Who knows it not....
CYRANO.
Indeed!
ROXANE.
.... Not yet.
CYRANO.
Indeed!
ROXANE.
But he shall know it soon.
CYRANO.
Indeed!
ROXANE.
Poor fellow, he has loved me timidly,And from afar, and never dared to speak!
CYRANO.
Indeed!
ROXANE.
Your hand is feverish.... Oh! I easily could see the truth beneath his bashfulness!
CYRANO.
Indeed!....
ROXANE(as she finished bandaging his hand).
And see what a coincidence, dear cousin! He belongs to your regiment!
CYRANO.
Indeed!....
ROXANE(laughing).
Why, of course, he is a cadet in your Company!....
CYRANO.
Indeed!
ROXANE.
He bears on his brow the mark of intelligence, of genius!He is haughty, noble, young, intrepid, handsome,....
CYRANO(rising, very pale).
Handsome!
ROXANE.
Why! what is the matter?
CYRANO.
The matter? Nothing .... It is .... It is ....
(Showing his hand and smiling). This little scratch.
ROXANE.
Oh! Well, I really love him. I must say, however, that I have seen him only at the Theatre ....
CYRANO.
Then you have not spoken to each other?
ROXANE.
Our eyes alone have done the talking.
CYRANO.
Well, then, how do you know?
ROXANE.
Beneath the linden trees of the Place Royal there is some gossipping .... and information has reached me ....
CYRANO.
He is a cadet, you say?
ROXANE.
Yes, a cadet in the Guards.
CYRANO.
His name?
ROXANE.
Baron Christian de Neuvillette.
CYRANO.
How?.... There is nobody of that name among the cadets.
ROXANE.
Oh! yes, there is, since this morning. His Captain is Carbon of Haughty-Hall.
CYRANO.
And so, quick, quick, we throw away our little heart?.... But my poor child....
THE DUENNA(looking in at the door).
Monsieur de Bergerac, I have finished the cakes!
CYRANO.
Well, then, read the verses that you will find on the bags!
(Duenna disappears.)
.... My poor child, for you who are accustomed to refined language, to subtle thoughts,—suppose he were thoroughly uninitiated, in fact, a savage!
ROXANE.
Oh! no, he has the hair of a hero!
CYRANO.
Suppose he were as poor in speech as rich in hair.
ROXANE.
No, all his words are choice; I can tell by seeing him.
CYRANO.
Of course, all words are choice when they come through a mustache that is well curled.—But suppose he were a dunce!....
ROXANE(striking the floor with her foot, impatiently).
Well, it would kill me! There!
CYRANO(after a pause).
And it is to tell me this that you asked me to meet you here? I fail to see the necessity of the appointment, Madam.
ROXANE.
The fact is that somebody frightened me yesterday by telling me that you are all Gascons in your Company....
CYRANO.
And that we challenge any beardless hero who, through influence, and not being really a Gascon, manages to get assigned to our Gascon Company? That is what you were told.
ROXANE.
And you imagine how I tremble for him?
CYRANO(between his teeth).
Not without good reason!
ROXANE.
But then I was reminded of you, and of your skill and courage, your great achievements; and I thought: if he, Cyrano, whom everyone respects, would....
CYRANO.
'Tis well. I'll answer for your little baron.
ROXANE.
Yes, defend him always, please. And many thanks! You know how fond of you I've always been?
CYRANO.
Oh! yes, I know.
ROXANE.
You'll be his friend?
CYRANO.
I will.
ROXANE.
And he shall have no duels to fight.
CYRANO.
None; you have my promise.
ROXANE.
Ah! you are my dearest friend.—But I must go.
(She puts on her mask again, throws a lace scarf over her head, and then, in an unconcerned way says:)
But you did not relate to me your battle of last night. You must have been grand!.... Tell him to write me.
(Sends him a kiss with her hand.)
Dear, dear friend!
CYRANO.
All is understood.
ROXANE.
One hundred men against one: you!—So, good bye!—We are the best of friends, are we not?
CYRANO.
Assuredly, we are!
ROXANE.
Tell him to write!.... One hundred men!.... You'll tell me all about it later. To-day I cannot listen. One hundred men! How brave!
CYRANO(bowing).
Oh! I have done better since.
(Exit Roxane. Cyrano remains motionless, his eyes on the floor. Silence. The door to the right opens, and Ragueneau passes in his head.)