Cyrano de Bergerac [11]
hate To Montfleury--come, tell me!
CYRANO (rising): This Silenus, Big-bellied, coarse, still deems himself a peril-- A danger to the love of lovely ladies, And, while he sputters out his actor's part, Makes sheep's eyes at their boxes--goggling frog! I hate him since the evening he presumed To raise his eyes to hers. . .Meseemed I saw A slug crawl slavering o'er a flower's petals!
LE BRET (stupefied): How now? What? Can it be. . .?
CYRANO (laughing bitterly): That I should love?. . . (Changing his tone, gravely): I love.
LE BRET: And may I know?. . .You never said. . .
CYRANO: Come now, bethink you!. . .The fond hope to be Beloved, e'en by some poor graceless lady, Is, by this nose of mine for aye bereft me; --This lengthy nose which, go where'er I will, Pokes yet a quarter-mile ahead of me; But I may love--and who? 'Tis Fate's decree I love the fairest--how were't otherwise?
LE BRET: The fairest?. . .
CYRANO: Ay, the fairest of the world, Most brilliant--most refined--most golden-haired!
LE BRET: Who is this lady?
CYRANO: She's a danger mortal, All unsuspicious--full of charms unconscious, Like a sweet perfumed rose--a snare of nature, Within whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush! He who has seen her smile has known perfection, --Instilling into trifles grace's essence, Divinity in every careless gesture; Not Venus' self can mount her conch blown sea-ward, As she can step into her chaise a porteurs, Nor Dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered, Light as my Lady o'er the stones of Paris!. . .
LE BRET: Sapristi! all is clear!
CYRANO: As spiderwebs!
LE BRET: Your cousin, Madeleine Robin?
CYRANO: Roxane!
LE BRET: Well, but so much the better! Tell her so! She saw your triumph here this very night!
CYRANO: Look well at me--then tell me, with what hope This vile protuberance can inspire my heart! I do not lull me with illusions--yet At times I'm weak: in evening hours dim I enter some fair pleasance, perfumed sweet; With my poor ugly devil of a nose I scent spring's essence--in the silver rays I see some knight--a lady on his arm, And think 'To saunter thus 'neath the moonshine, I were fain to have my lady, too, beside!' Thought soars to ecstasy. . .O sudden fall! --The shadow of my profile on the wall!
LE BRET (tenderly): My friend!. . .
CYRANO: My friend, at times 'tis hard, 'tis bitter, To feel my loneliness--my own ill-favor. . .
LE BRET (taking his hand): You weep?
CYRANO: No, never! Think, how vilely suited Adown this nose a tear its passage tracing! I never will, while of myself I'm master, let the divinity of tears--their beauty Be wedded to such common ugly grossness. Nothing more solemn than a tear--sublimer; And I would not by weeping turn to laughter The grave emotion that a tear engenders!
LE BRET: Never be sad! What's love?--a chance of Fortune!
CYRANO (shaking his head): Look I a Caesar to woo Cleopatra? A Tito to aspire to Berenice?
LE BRET: Your courage and your wit!--The little maid Who offered you refreshment even now, Her eyes did not abhor you--you saw well!
CYRANO (impressed): True!
LE BRET: Well, how then?. . .I saw Roxane herself Was death-pale as she watched the duel.
CYRANO: Pale?
LE BRET: Her heart, her fancy, are already caught! Put it to th' touch!
CYRANO: That she may mock my face? That is the one thing on this earth I fear!
THE PORTER (introducing some one to Cyrano): Sir, some one asks for you. . .
CYRANO (seeing the duenna): God! her duenna!
Scene 1.VI.
Cyrano, Le Bret, the duenna.
THE DUENNA (with a low bow): I was bid ask you where a certain lady Could see her valiant cousin--but in secret.
CYRANO (overwhelmed): See me?
THE DUENNA (courtesying): Ay, Sir! She has somewhat to tell.
CYRANO: Somewhat?. . .
THE DUENNA (still courtesying): Ay, private matters!
CYRANO (staggering): Ah, my God!
THE DUENNA:
CYRANO (rising): This Silenus, Big-bellied, coarse, still deems himself a peril-- A danger to the love of lovely ladies, And, while he sputters out his actor's part, Makes sheep's eyes at their boxes--goggling frog! I hate him since the evening he presumed To raise his eyes to hers. . .Meseemed I saw A slug crawl slavering o'er a flower's petals!
LE BRET (stupefied): How now? What? Can it be. . .?
CYRANO (laughing bitterly): That I should love?. . . (Changing his tone, gravely): I love.
LE BRET: And may I know?. . .You never said. . .
CYRANO: Come now, bethink you!. . .The fond hope to be Beloved, e'en by some poor graceless lady, Is, by this nose of mine for aye bereft me; --This lengthy nose which, go where'er I will, Pokes yet a quarter-mile ahead of me; But I may love--and who? 'Tis Fate's decree I love the fairest--how were't otherwise?
LE BRET: The fairest?. . .
CYRANO: Ay, the fairest of the world, Most brilliant--most refined--most golden-haired!
LE BRET: Who is this lady?
CYRANO: She's a danger mortal, All unsuspicious--full of charms unconscious, Like a sweet perfumed rose--a snare of nature, Within whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush! He who has seen her smile has known perfection, --Instilling into trifles grace's essence, Divinity in every careless gesture; Not Venus' self can mount her conch blown sea-ward, As she can step into her chaise a porteurs, Nor Dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered, Light as my Lady o'er the stones of Paris!. . .
LE BRET: Sapristi! all is clear!
CYRANO: As spiderwebs!
LE BRET: Your cousin, Madeleine Robin?
CYRANO: Roxane!
LE BRET: Well, but so much the better! Tell her so! She saw your triumph here this very night!
CYRANO: Look well at me--then tell me, with what hope This vile protuberance can inspire my heart! I do not lull me with illusions--yet At times I'm weak: in evening hours dim I enter some fair pleasance, perfumed sweet; With my poor ugly devil of a nose I scent spring's essence--in the silver rays I see some knight--a lady on his arm, And think 'To saunter thus 'neath the moonshine, I were fain to have my lady, too, beside!' Thought soars to ecstasy. . .O sudden fall! --The shadow of my profile on the wall!
LE BRET (tenderly): My friend!. . .
CYRANO: My friend, at times 'tis hard, 'tis bitter, To feel my loneliness--my own ill-favor. . .
LE BRET (taking his hand): You weep?
CYRANO: No, never! Think, how vilely suited Adown this nose a tear its passage tracing! I never will, while of myself I'm master, let the divinity of tears--their beauty Be wedded to such common ugly grossness. Nothing more solemn than a tear--sublimer; And I would not by weeping turn to laughter The grave emotion that a tear engenders!
LE BRET: Never be sad! What's love?--a chance of Fortune!
CYRANO (shaking his head): Look I a Caesar to woo Cleopatra? A Tito to aspire to Berenice?
LE BRET: Your courage and your wit!--The little maid Who offered you refreshment even now, Her eyes did not abhor you--you saw well!
CYRANO (impressed): True!
LE BRET: Well, how then?. . .I saw Roxane herself Was death-pale as she watched the duel.
CYRANO: Pale?
LE BRET: Her heart, her fancy, are already caught! Put it to th' touch!
CYRANO: That she may mock my face? That is the one thing on this earth I fear!
THE PORTER (introducing some one to Cyrano): Sir, some one asks for you. . .
CYRANO (seeing the duenna): God! her duenna!
Scene 1.VI.
Cyrano, Le Bret, the duenna.
THE DUENNA (with a low bow): I was bid ask you where a certain lady Could see her valiant cousin--but in secret.
CYRANO (overwhelmed): See me?
THE DUENNA (courtesying): Ay, Sir! She has somewhat to tell.
CYRANO: Somewhat?. . .
THE DUENNA (still courtesying): Ay, private matters!
CYRANO (staggering): Ah, my God!
THE DUENNA: