Cyrano de Bergerac Read online

  VALVERT That insufferable haughty bearing! ... A clodhopper without ... without so much as gloves ... who goes abroad without points ... or bow-knots! ...

  CYRANO My foppery is of the inner man. I do not trick myself out like a popinjay, but I am more fastidious, if I am not so showy. I would not sally forth, by any chance, not washed quite clean of an affront; my conscience foggy about the eye, my honor crumpled, my nicety black-rimmed. I walk with all upon me furbished bright. I plume myself with independence and straightforwardness. It is not a handsome figure, it is my soul, I hold erect as in a brace. I go decked with exploits in place of ribbon bows. I taper to a point my wit like a moustache. And at my passage through the crowd true sayings ring like spurs!

  VALVERT But, sir ...

  CYRANO I am without gloves? ... a mighty matter! I only had one left, of a very ancient pair, and even that became a burden to me ... I left it in somebody’s face.

  VALVERT Villain, clod-poll, flat-foot, refuse of the earth!

  CYRANO [taking off his hat and bowing as if the VICOMTE had been introducing himself] Ah? ... And mine, Cyrano-Savinien-Hercule of Bergerac!

  VALVERT [exasperated] Buffoon!

  CYRANO [giving a sudden cry, as if seized with a cramp] Aï!...

  VALVERT [who had started toward the back, turning] What is he saying now?

  CYRANO [screwing his face as if in pain] It must have leave to stir ... it has a cramp! It is bad for it to be kept still so long!

  VALVERT What is the matter?

  CYRANO My rapier prickles like a foot asleep!

  VALVERT [drawing] So be it!

  CYRANO I shall give you a charming little hurt!

  VALVERT [contemptuous] A poet!

  CYRANO Yes, a poet, ... and to such an extent, that while we fence, I will, hop! extempore, compose you a ballade!

  VALVERT A ballade?

  CYRANO I fear you do not know what that is.

  VALVERT But ...

  CYRANO [as if saying a lesson] The ballade is composed of three stanzas of eight lines each ...

  VALVERT [stamps with his feet] Oh! ...

  CYRANO [continuing] And an envoi20 of four.

  VALVERT You ...

  CYRANO I will with the same breath fight you and compose one. And at the last line, I will hit you.

  VALVERT Indeed you will not!

  CYRANO No? ... [Declaiming]

  Ballade of the duel which in Burgundy House

  Monsieur de Bergerac fought with a jackanapes.

  VALVERT And what is that, if you please?

  CYRANO That is the title.

  THE AUDIENCE [at the highest pitch of excitement] Make room! ... Good sport! ... Stand aside! ... Keep still! ... [Tableau. A ring, in the pit, of the interested; the MARQUISES and OFFICERS scattered among the BURGHERS and COMMON PEOPLE. The PAGES have climbed on the shoulders of various ones, the better to see. All the women are standing in the boxes. At the right, DE GUICHE and his attendant gentlemen. At the left, LE BRET, RAGUENEAU, CUIGY, etc.]

  CYRANO [closing his eyes a second] Wait. I am settling upon the rhymes. There. I have them. [In declaiming, he suits the action to the word. ]

  Of my broad felt made lighter,

  I cast my mantle broad,

  And stand, poet and fighter,

  To do and to record.

  I bow, I draw my sword ...

  En garde! with steel and wit

  I play you at first abord ...

  At the last line, I hit!

  [They begin fencing.]

  You should have been politer;

  Where had you best be gored?

  The left side or the right—ah?

  Or next your azure cord?

  Or where the spleen is stored?

  Or in the stomach pit?

  Come we to quick accord ...

  At the last line, I hit!

  You falter, you turn whiter?

  You do so to afford

  Your foe a rhyme in “iter”? ...

  You thrust at me—I ward—

  And balance is restored.

  Laridon!21 Look to your spit! ...

  No, you shall not be floored

  Before my cue to hit!

  [He announces solemnly.J

  ENVOI

  Prince, call upon the Lord! ...

  I skirmish ... feint a bit ...

  I lunge! ... I keep my word!

  [The VICOMTE staggers; CYRANO bows.]

  At the last line, I hit!

  [Acclamations. Applause from the boxes. Flowers and handkerchiefs are thrown. The OFFICERS surround and congratulate CYRANO. RAGUENEAU dances with delight. LE BRET is tearfully joyous and at the same time highly troubled. The friends of the VICOMTE support him off the stage.]

  THE CROWD [in a long shout] Ah! ...

  A LIGHT-CAVALRY MAN Superb!

  A WOMAN Sweet!

  RAGUENEAU Astounding!

  A MARQUIS Novel!

  LE BRET Insensate!

  THE CROWD [pressing around CYRANO] Congratulations! ... Well done! ... Bravo! ...

  A WOMAN’ S VOICE He is a hero!

  A MOUSQUETAIRE [striding swiftly toward CYRANO, with outstretched hand] Monsieur, will you allow me? It was quite, quite excellently done, and I think I know whereof I speak. But, as a fact, I expressed my mind before, by making a huge noise.... [He retires. ]

  CYRANO [to CUIGY] Who may the gentleman be?

  CUIGY D’Artagnan.22

  LE BRET [to CYRANO, taking his arm] Come, I wish to talk with you.

  CYRANO Wait till the crowd has thinned. [To BELLEROSE]. I may remain?

  BELLEROSE [deferentially] Why, certainly! ... [Shouts are heard outside. J

  JODELET [after looking] They are hooting Montfleury. BELLEROSE [solemnly] Sic transit!23 ... [In a different tone, to the doorkeeper and the candle snuffer.] Sweep and close. Leave the lights. We shall come back, after eating, to rehearse a new farce for to-morrow. [Exeunt JODELET and BELLEROSE, after bowing very low to CYRANO.]

  THE DOORKEEPER [to CYRANO] Monsieur will not be going to dinner?

  CYRANO I? ... No.

  [The doorkeeper withdraws.]

  LE BRET [to CYRANO] And this, because? ...

  CYRANO [proudly] Because ... [in a different tone, having seen that the doorkeeper is too far to overhear] I have not a penny!

  LE BRET [making the motion of flinging a bag] How is this? The bag of crowns....

  CYRANO Monthly remittance, thou lastedst but a day!

  LE BRET And to keep you the remainder of the month? ... CYRANO Nothing is left!

  LE BRET But then, flinging that bag, what a child’s prank!

  CYRANO But what a gesture! ...

  THE SWEETMEAT VENDER [coughing behind her little counter] Hm! ... [CYRANO and LE BRET turn toward her. She comes timidly forward.] ] Monsieur, to know you have not eaten ... makes my heart ache. [Pointing to the sweetmeat-stand. I have there all that is needed.... (impulsively] Help yourself!

  CYRANO [taking off his hat] Dear child, despite my Gascon pride, which forbids that I should profit at your hand by the most inconsiderable of dainties, I fear too much lest a denial should grieve you: I will accept therefore ... [He goes to the stand and selects] Oh, a trifle! ... A grape off this ... [She proffers the bunch, he takes a single grape.] No ... one! This glass of water ... [She starts to pour wine into it, he stops her.] No ... clear! And half a macaroon. [He breaks in two the macaroon, and returns half.]

  LE BRET This comes near being silly!

  SWEETMEAT VENDER Oh, you will take something more! ...

  CYRANO Yes. Your hand to kiss. [He kisses the hand she holds out to him, as if it were that of a princess. ]

  SWEETMEAT VENDER Monsieur, I thank you. [Curtseys.] Good evening! (Exit.]

  SCENE V

  Cyrano, Le Bret, then the Doorkeeper

  CYRANO [to LE BRET ] I am listening. [He establishes himself before the stand, sets the macaroon before him,] Dinner! [does the same with the glass of water], Drink! [and with th
e grape] Dessert! [He sits down.] La! let me begin! I was as hungry as a wolf! [Eating.]You were saying?

  LE BRET That if you listen to none but those great boobies and swashbucklers your judgment will become wholly perverted. Inquire, will you, of the sensible, concerning the effect produced to-day by your prowesses.

  CYRANO [finishing his macaroon] Enormous!

  LE BRET The cardinal ...

  CYRANO [beaming] He was there, the cardinal?

  LE BRET Must have found what you did....

  CYRANO To a degree, original.

  LE BRET Still ...

  CYRANO He is a poet. It cannot be distasteful to him wholly that one should deal confusion to a fellow-poet’s play.

  LE BRET But, seriously, you make too many enemies!

  CYRANO [biting into the grape] How many, thereabouts, should you think I made to-night?

  LE BRET Eight and forty. Not mentioning the women. CYRANO Come, tell them over!

  LE BRET Montfleury, the old merchant, De Guiche, the Vicomte, Baro, the whole Academy ...

  CYRANO Enough! You steep me in bliss!

  LE BRET But whither will the road you follow lead you? What can your object be?

  CYRANO I was wandering aimlessly; too many roads were open ... too many resolves, too complex, allowed of being taken. I took ...

  LE BRET Which?

  CYRANO By far the simplest of them all. I decided to be, in every matter, always, admirable!

  LE BRET [shrugging his shoulders] That will do.—But tell me, will you not, the motive—look, the true one!—of your dislike to Montfleury.

  CYRANO [rising] That old Silenus,24 who has not seen his knees this many a year, still believes himself a delicate desperate danger to the fair. And as he struts and burrs upon the stage, makes sheep‘s-eyes at them with his moist frog’s-eyes. And I have hated him ... oh, properly! ... since the night he was so daring as to cast his glance on her ... her, who—Oh, I thought I saw a slug crawl over a flower!

  LE BRET [amazed] Hey? What? Is it possible? ...

  CYRANO [with a bitter laugh] That I should love? [In a different tone, seriously.] I love.

  LE BRET And may one know? ... You never told me ...

  CYRANO Whom I love? ... Come, think a little. The dream of being beloved, even by the beautiless, is made, to me, an empty dream indeed by this good nose, my forerunner ever by a quarter of an hour. Hence, whom should I love? ... It seems superfluous to tell you! ... I love ... it was inevitable! ... the most beautiful that breathes!

  LE BRET The most beautiful? ...

  CYRANO No less, in the whole world! And the most resplendent, and the most delicate of wit, and among the golden-haired ... [with overwhelming despair] Still the superlative!

  LE BRET Dear me, what is this fair one?

  CYRANO All unawares, a deadly snare, exquisite without concern to be so. A snare of nature’s own, a musk-rose, in which ambush Love lies low. Who has seen her smile remembers the ineffable! There is not a thing so common but she turns it into prettiness; and in the merest nod or beck she can make manifest all the attributes of a goddess. No, Venus! you cannot step into your iridescent shell, nor, Dian, you, walk through the blossoming groves, as she steps into her chair and walks in Paris!

  LE BRET Sapristi! I understand! It is clear!

  CYRANO It is pellucid.

  LE BRET Magdeleine Robin, your cousin?

  CYRANO Yes, Roxane.

  LE BRET But, what could be better? You love her? Tell her so! You covered yourself with glory in her sight a moment since.

  CYRANO Look well at me, dear friend, and tell me how much hope you think can be justly entertained with this protuberance. Oh, I foster no illusions! ... Sometimes, indeed, yes, in the violet dusk, I yield, even I! to a dreamy mood. I penetrate some garden that lies sweetening the hour. With my poor great devil of a nose I sniff the April.... And as I follow with my eyes some woman passing with some cavalier, I think how dear would I hold having to walk beside me, linked like that, slowly, in the soft moonlight, such a one! I kindle—I forget—and then ... then suddenly I see the shadow of my profile upon the garden-wall! LE BRET [touched.] My friend ...

  CYRANO Friend, I experience a bad half hour sometimes, in feeling so unsightly ... and alone.

  LE BRET [in quick sympathy, taking his hand] You weep?

  CYRANO Ah, God forbid! That? Never! No, that would be unsightly to excess! That a tear should course the whole length of this nose! Never, so long as I am accountable, shall the divine loveliness of tears be implicated with so much gross ugliness! Mark me well, nothing is so holy as are tears, nothing! and never shall it be that, rousing mirth through me, a single one of them shall seem ridiculous!

  LE BRET Come, do not despond! Love is a lottery.

  CYRANO [shaking his head] No! I love Cleopatra: do I resemble Caesar? I worship Berenice: do I put you in mind of Titus?25

  LE BRET But your courage ... and your wit!—The little girl who but a moment ago bestowed on you that very modest meal, her eyes, you must have seen as much, did not exactly hate you!

  CYRANO [impressed] That is true!

  LE BRET You see? So, then!—But Roxane herself, in following your duel, went lily-pale.

  CYRANO Lily-pale? ...

  LE BRET Her mind, her heart as well, are struck with wonder! Be bold, speak to her, in order that she may ...

  CYRANO Laugh in my face! ... No, there is but one thing upon earth I fear.... It is that.

  THE DOORKEEPER [admitting the DUENNA26 to CYRANO] Monsieur, you are inquired for.

  CYRANO [seeing the duenna] Ah, my God! ... her duenna!

  SCENE VI

  Cyrano, Le Bret, the Duenna

  THE DUENNA [with a great curtsey] Somebody wishes to know of her valorous cousin where one may, in private, see him.

  CYRANO [upset] See me?

  THE DUENNA [with curtsey] See you. There are things for your ear.

  CYRANO There are ... ?

  THE DUENNA [other curtsey] Things.

  CYRANO [staggering] Ah, my God! ...

  THE DUENNA Somebody intends, tomorrow, at the earliest roses of the dawn, to hear Mass at Saint Roch.

  CYRANO [upholds himself by leaning on LE BRET] Ah, my God!

  THE DUENNA That over, where might one step in a moment, have a little talk?

  CYRANO [losing his senses] Where? ... I ... But ... Ah, my God!

  THE DUENNA Expedition, if you please.

  CYRANO I am casting about ...

  THE DUENNA Where?

  CYRANO At ... at ... at Ragueneau’s ... the pastrycook’s. THE DUENNA He lodges?

  CYRANO In ... In Rue ... Ah, my God! my God! ... St. Honoré.

  THE DUENNA [retiring] We will be there. Do not fail. At seven.

  CYRANO I will not fail. [Exit DUENNA.]

  SCENE VII

  Cyrano, Le Bret, then the Actors and Actresses, Cuigy, Brissaille, Ligniere, the Doorkeeper, the Fiddlers

  CYRANO [falling on LE BRET’s neck] To me ... from her ... a meeting!

  LE BRET Well, your gloom is dispelled?

  CYRANO Ah, to whatever end it may be, she is aware of my existence!

  LE BRET And now you will be calm?

  CYRANO [beside himself] Now, I shall be fulminating and frenetical! I want an army all complete to put to rout! I have ten hearts and twenty arms ... I cannot now be suited with felling dwarfs to earth.... [At the top of his lungs.] Giants are what I want! [During the last lines, on the stage at the back, shadowy shapes of players have been moving about. The rehearsal has begun; the fiddlers have resumed their places.]

  A VOICE [from the stage] Hey! Psst! Over there! A little lower. We are trying to rehearse!

  CYRANO [laughing] We are going! [He goes toward the back.] [Through the street door, enter CUIGY, BRISSAILLE, several OFFICERS supporting LIGNIERE in a state of complete intoxication.]

  CUIGY Cyrano!

  CYRANO What is this?

  CUIGY A turdus vinaticus27 we are bringing you.

 
CYRANO [recognizing him] Lignière! Hey, what has happened to you? CUIGY He is looking for you.

  BRISSAILLE He cannot go home.

  CYRANO Why?

  LIGNIERE [in a thick voice, showing him a bit of crumpled paper.] This note bids me beware ... A hundred men against me ... on account of lampoon.... Grave danger threatening me.... Porte de Nesle ... must pass it to get home. Let me come and sleep under your roof.

  CYRANO A hundred, did you say?—You shall sleep at home! LIGNIERE [frightened] But ...

  CYRANO [in a terrible voice, pointing to the lighted lantern which the

  DOORKEEPER stands swinging as he listens to this scene] Take that lantern (LIGNIERE hurriedly takes it] and walk! ... I swear to tuck you in your bed to-night myself. [To the OFFICERS.)You, follow at a distance. You may look on!

  CUIGY But a hundred men ...

  CYRANO Are not one man too many for my mood to-night! [The players, in their several costumes, have stepped down from the stage and come nearer.]

  LE BRET But why take under your especial care ...

  CYRANO Still Le Bret is not satisfied!

  LE BRET That most commonplace of sots?

  CYRANO [slapping LIGNIERE on the shoulder] Because this sot, this cask of muscatel, this hogshead of rosolio, 28 did once upon a time a wholly pretty thing. On leaving Mass, having seen her whom he loved take holy-water, as the rite prescribes, he, whom the sight of water puts to flight, ran to the holy-water bowl, and stooping over, drank it dry....