Cyrano de Bergerac [12]
To-morrow, at the early blush of dawn, We go to hear mass at St. Roch.
CYRANO (leaning against Le Bret): My God!
THE DUENNA: After--what place for a few minutes' speech?
CYRANO (confused): Where? Ah!. . .but. . .Ah, my God!. . .
THE DUENNA: Say!
CYRANO: I reflect!. . .
THE DUENNA: Where?
CYRANO: At--the pastry-house of Ragueneau.
THE DUENNA: Where lodges he?
CYRANO: The Rue--God!--St. Honore!
THE DUENNA (going): Good. Be you there. At seven.
CYRANO: Without fail.
(The duenna goes out.)
Scene 1.VII.
Cyrano, Le Bret. Then actors, actresses, Cuigy, Brissaille, Ligniere, the porter, the violinists.
CYRANO (falling into Le Bret's arms): A rendezvous. . .from her!. . .
LE BRET: You're sad no more!
CYRANO: Ah! Let the world go burn! She knows I live!
LE BRET: Now you'll be calm, I hope?
CYRANO (beside himself for joy): Calm? I now calm? I'll be frenetic, frantic,--raving mad! Oh, for an army to attack!--a host! I've ten hearts in my breast; a score of arms; No dwarfs to cleave in twain!. . . (Wildly): No! Giants now!
(For a few moments the shadows of the actors have been moving on the stage, whispers are heard--the rehearsal is beginning. The violinists are in their places.)
A VOICE FROM THE STAGE: Hollo there! Silence! We rehearse!
CYRANO (laughing): We go!
(He moves away. By the big door enter Cuigy, Brissaille, and some officers, holding up Ligniere, who is drunk.)
CUIGY: Cyrano!
CYRANO: Well, what now?
CUIGY: A lusty thrush They're bringing you!
CYRANO (recognizing him): Ligniere!. . .What has chanced?
CUIGY: He seeks you!
BRISSAILLE: He dare not go home!
CYRANO: Why not?
LIGNIERE (in a husky voice, showing him a crumpled letter): This letter warns me. . .that a hundred men. . . Revenge that threatens me. . .that song, you know-- At the Porte de Nesle. To get to my own house I must pass there. . .I dare not!. . .Give me leave To sleep to-night beneath your roof! Allow. . .
CYRANO: A hundred men? You'll sleep in your own bed!
LIGNIERE (frightened): But--
CYRANO (in a terrible voice, showing him the lighted lantern held by the porter, who is listening curiously): Take the lantern. (Ligniere seizes it): Let us start! I swear That I will make your bed to-night myself! (To the officers): Follow; some stay behind, as witnesses!
CUIGY: A hundred!. . .
CYRANO: Less, to-night--would be too few!
(The actors and actresses, in their costumes, have come down from the stage, and are listening.)
LE BRET: But why embroil yourself?
CYRANO: Le Bret who scolds!
LE BRET: That worthless drunkard!--
CYRANO (slapping Ligniere on the shoulder): Wherefore? For this cause;-- This wine-barrel, this cask of Burgundy, Did, on a day, an action full of grace; As he was leaving church, he saw his love Take holy water--he, who is affeared At water's taste, ran quickly to the stoup, And drank it all, to the last drop!. . .
AN ACTRESS: Indeed, that was a graceful thing!
CYRANO: Ay, was it not?
THE ACTRESS (to the others): But why a hundred men 'gainst one poor rhymer?
CYRANO: March! (To the officers): Gentlemen, when you shall see me charge, Bear me no succor, none, whate'er the odds!
ANOTHER ACTRESS (jumping from the stage): Oh! I shall come and see!
CYRANO: Come, then!
ANOTHER (jumping down--to an old actor): And you?. . .
CYRANO: Come all--the Doctor, Isabel, Leander, Come, for you shall add, in a motley swarm, The farce Italian to this Spanish drama!
ALL THE WOMEN (dancing for joy): Bravo!--a mantle, quick!--my hood!
JODELET: Come on!
CYRANO: Play us a march, gentlemen of the band! (The violinists join the procession, which is forming. They take the footlights, and divide them for torches): Brave officers! next, women in costume, And, twenty paces on-- (He takes his place): I all alone, Beneath the plume that Glory lends, herself,
CYRANO (leaning against Le Bret): My God!
THE DUENNA: After--what place for a few minutes' speech?
CYRANO (confused): Where? Ah!. . .but. . .Ah, my God!. . .
THE DUENNA: Say!
CYRANO: I reflect!. . .
THE DUENNA: Where?
CYRANO: At--the pastry-house of Ragueneau.
THE DUENNA: Where lodges he?
CYRANO: The Rue--God!--St. Honore!
THE DUENNA (going): Good. Be you there. At seven.
CYRANO: Without fail.
(The duenna goes out.)
Scene 1.VII.
Cyrano, Le Bret. Then actors, actresses, Cuigy, Brissaille, Ligniere, the porter, the violinists.
CYRANO (falling into Le Bret's arms): A rendezvous. . .from her!. . .
LE BRET: You're sad no more!
CYRANO: Ah! Let the world go burn! She knows I live!
LE BRET: Now you'll be calm, I hope?
CYRANO (beside himself for joy): Calm? I now calm? I'll be frenetic, frantic,--raving mad! Oh, for an army to attack!--a host! I've ten hearts in my breast; a score of arms; No dwarfs to cleave in twain!. . . (Wildly): No! Giants now!
(For a few moments the shadows of the actors have been moving on the stage, whispers are heard--the rehearsal is beginning. The violinists are in their places.)
A VOICE FROM THE STAGE: Hollo there! Silence! We rehearse!
CYRANO (laughing): We go!
(He moves away. By the big door enter Cuigy, Brissaille, and some officers, holding up Ligniere, who is drunk.)
CUIGY: Cyrano!
CYRANO: Well, what now?
CUIGY: A lusty thrush They're bringing you!
CYRANO (recognizing him): Ligniere!. . .What has chanced?
CUIGY: He seeks you!
BRISSAILLE: He dare not go home!
CYRANO: Why not?
LIGNIERE (in a husky voice, showing him a crumpled letter): This letter warns me. . .that a hundred men. . . Revenge that threatens me. . .that song, you know-- At the Porte de Nesle. To get to my own house I must pass there. . .I dare not!. . .Give me leave To sleep to-night beneath your roof! Allow. . .
CYRANO: A hundred men? You'll sleep in your own bed!
LIGNIERE (frightened): But--
CYRANO (in a terrible voice, showing him the lighted lantern held by the porter, who is listening curiously): Take the lantern. (Ligniere seizes it): Let us start! I swear That I will make your bed to-night myself! (To the officers): Follow; some stay behind, as witnesses!
CUIGY: A hundred!. . .
CYRANO: Less, to-night--would be too few!
(The actors and actresses, in their costumes, have come down from the stage, and are listening.)
LE BRET: But why embroil yourself?
CYRANO: Le Bret who scolds!
LE BRET: That worthless drunkard!--
CYRANO (slapping Ligniere on the shoulder): Wherefore? For this cause;-- This wine-barrel, this cask of Burgundy, Did, on a day, an action full of grace; As he was leaving church, he saw his love Take holy water--he, who is affeared At water's taste, ran quickly to the stoup, And drank it all, to the last drop!. . .
AN ACTRESS: Indeed, that was a graceful thing!
CYRANO: Ay, was it not?
THE ACTRESS (to the others): But why a hundred men 'gainst one poor rhymer?
CYRANO: March! (To the officers): Gentlemen, when you shall see me charge, Bear me no succor, none, whate'er the odds!
ANOTHER ACTRESS (jumping from the stage): Oh! I shall come and see!
CYRANO: Come, then!
ANOTHER (jumping down--to an old actor): And you?. . .
CYRANO: Come all--the Doctor, Isabel, Leander, Come, for you shall add, in a motley swarm, The farce Italian to this Spanish drama!
ALL THE WOMEN (dancing for joy): Bravo!--a mantle, quick!--my hood!
JODELET: Come on!
CYRANO: Play us a march, gentlemen of the band! (The violinists join the procession, which is forming. They take the footlights, and divide them for torches): Brave officers! next, women in costume, And, twenty paces on-- (He takes his place): I all alone, Beneath the plume that Glory lends, herself,