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Cyrano de Bergerac [1]

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the girl): A kiss!

THE SHOP-GIRL (struggling to free herself): They're looking!

THE GUARDSMAN (drawing her to a dark corner): No fear! No one can see!

A MAN (sitting on the ground with others, who have brought their provisions): By coming early, one can eat in comfort.

A BURGHER (conducting his son): Let us sit here, son.

A CARD-PLAYER: Triple ace!

A MAN (taking a bottle from under his cloak, and also seating himself on the floor): A tippler may well quaff his Burgundy (he drinks): in the Burgundy Hotel!

THE BURGHER (to his son): 'Faith! A man might think he had fallen in a bad house here! (He points with his cane to the drunkard): What with topers! (One of the fencers in breaking off, jostles him): brawlers! (He stumbles into the midst of the card-players): gamblers!

THE GUARDSMAN (behind him, still teasing the shop-girl): Come, one kiss!

THE BURGHER (hurriedly pulling his son away): By all the holies! And this, my boy, is the theater where they played Rotrou erewhile.

THE YOUNG MAN: Ay, and Corneille!

A TROOP OF PAGES (hand-in-hand, enter dancing the farandole, and singing): Tra' a la, la, la, la, la, la, la, lere. . .

THE DOORKEEPER (sternly, to the pages): You pages there, none of your tricks!. . .

FIRST PAGE (with an air of wounded dignity): Oh, sir!--such a suspicion!. . . (Briskly, to the second page, the moment the doorkeeper's back is turned): Have you string?

THE SECOND: Ay, and a fish-hook with it.

FIRST PAGE: We can angle for wigs, then, up there i' th' gallery.

A PICKPOCKET (gathering about him some evil-looking youths): Hark ye, young cut-purses, lend an ear, while I give you your first lesson in thieving.

SECOND PAGE (calling up to others in the top galleries): You there! Have you peashooters?

THIRD PAGE (from above): Ay, have we, and peas withal!

(He blows, and peppers them with peas.)

THE YOUNG MAN (to his father): What piece do they give us?

THE BURGHER: 'Clorise.'

THE YOUNG MAN: Who may the author be?

THE BURGHER: Master Balthazar Baro. It is a play!. . .

(He goes arm-in-arm with his son.)

THE PICKPOCKET (to his pupils): Have a care, above all, of the lace knee-ruffles--cut them off!

A SPECTATOR (to another, showing him a corner in the gallery): I was up there, the first night of the 'Cid.'

THE PICKPOCKET (making with his fingers the gesture of filching): Thus for watches--

THE BURGHER (coming down again with his son): Ah! You shall presently see some renowned actors. . .

THE PICKPOCKET (making the gestures of one who pulls something stealthily, with little jerks): Thus for handkerchiefs--

THE BURGHER: Montfleury. . .

SOME ONE (shouting from the upper gallery): Light up, below there!

THE BURGHER: . . .Bellerose, L'Epy, La Beaupre, Jodelet!

A PAGE (in the pit): Here comes the buffet-girl!

THE BUFFET-GIRL (taking her place behind the buffet): Oranges, milk, raspberry-water, cedar bitters!

(A hubbub outside the door is heard.)

A FALSETTO VOICE: Make place, brutes!

A LACKEY (astonished): The Marquises!--in the pit?. . .

ANOTHER LACKEY: Oh! only for a minute or two!

(Enter a band of young marquises.)

A MARQUIS (seeing that the hall is half empty): What now! So we make our entrance like a pack of woolen-drapers! Peaceably, without disturbing the folk, or treading on their toes!--Oh, fie! Fie! (Recognizing some other gentlemen who have entered a little before him): Cuigy! Brissaille!

(Greetings and embraces.)

CUIGY: True to our word!. . .Troth, we are here before the candles are lit.

THE MARQUIS: Ay, indeed! Enough! I am of an ill humor.

ANOTHER: Nay, nay, Marquis! see, for your consolation, they are coming to light up!

ALL THE AUDIENCE (welcoming the entrance of the lighter): Ah!. . .

(They form in groups round the lusters as they are lit. Some people have taken their seats in the galleries. Ligniere, a distinguished-looking roue, with disordered shirt-front arm-in-arm
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