Cyrano de Bergerac [25]
with linen like a sore thumb.
At the rising of the curtain the duenna is seated on the bench.
The window on Roxane's balcony is wide open.
Ragueneau is standing near the door in a sort of livery. He has just finished relating something to the duenna, and is wiping his eyes.
Scene 3.I.
Ragueneau, the duenna. Then Roxane, Cyrano, and two pages.
RAGUENEAU: --And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:-- then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to take me for her steward.
THE DUENNA: Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined?
RAGUENEAU: Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was not long a-coming.
THE DUENNA (rising, and calling up to the open window): Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us!
ROXANE'S VOICE (from the window): I will but put me on a cloak!
THE DUENNA (to Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite): They wait us there opposite, at Clomire's house. She receives them all there to-day--the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender Passion.
RAGUENEAU: The Tender Passion?
THE DUENNA (in a mincing voice): Ay, indeed! (Calling up to the window): Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the Tender Passion!
ROXANE'S VOICE: I come! I come!
(A sound of stringed instruments approaching.)
CYRANO'S VOICE (behind the scenes, singing): La, la, la, la!
THE DUENNA (surprised): They serenade us?
CYRANO (followed by two pages with arch-lutes): I tell you they are demi-semi-quavers, demi-semi-fool!
FIRST PAGE (ironically): You know then, Sir, to distinguish between semi-quavers and demi-semi- quavers?
CYRANO: Is not every disciple of Gassendi a musician?
THE PAGE (playing and singing): La, la!
CYRANO (snatching the lute from him, and going on with the phrase): In proof of which, I can continue! La, la, la, la!
ROXANE (appearing on the balcony): What? 'Tis you?
CYRANO (going on with the air, and singing to it): 'Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o- oses!
ROXANE: I am coming down!
(She leaves the balcony.)
THE DUENNA (pointing to the pages): How come these two virtuosi here?
CYRANO: 'Tis for a wager I won of D'Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar; contradictions raged hotly--''Tis so!' 'Nay, 'tis so!' when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skillful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws! 'I will wager you a day's music,' says he!--And lost it! Thus, see you, till Phoebus' chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody. 'Twas pleasant at the first, but i' faith, I begin to weary of it already! (To the musicians): Ho there! go serenade Montfleury for me! Play a dance to him! (The pages go toward the door. To the duenna): I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether. . . (To the pages, who are going out): Play a long time,--and play out of tune! (To the duenna): . . .Whether her soul's elected is ever the same, ever faultless!
ROXANE (coming out of the house): Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And--how well I love him!
CYRANO (smiling): Christian has so brilliant a wit?
ROXANE: Brighter than even your own, cousin!
CYRANO: Be it so, with all my heart!
ROXANE: Ah! methinks 'twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much-- that mean all! At times his mind seems far away, the Muse says naught--and then, presto! he speaks--bewitchingly! enchantingly!
CYRANO (incredulously): No, no!
ROXANE: Fie! That is ill said! But lo! men are ever thus!
At the rising of the curtain the duenna is seated on the bench.
The window on Roxane's balcony is wide open.
Ragueneau is standing near the door in a sort of livery. He has just finished relating something to the duenna, and is wiping his eyes.
Scene 3.I.
Ragueneau, the duenna. Then Roxane, Cyrano, and two pages.
RAGUENEAU: --And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:-- then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to take me for her steward.
THE DUENNA: Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined?
RAGUENEAU: Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was not long a-coming.
THE DUENNA (rising, and calling up to the open window): Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us!
ROXANE'S VOICE (from the window): I will but put me on a cloak!
THE DUENNA (to Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite): They wait us there opposite, at Clomire's house. She receives them all there to-day--the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender Passion.
RAGUENEAU: The Tender Passion?
THE DUENNA (in a mincing voice): Ay, indeed! (Calling up to the window): Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the Tender Passion!
ROXANE'S VOICE: I come! I come!
(A sound of stringed instruments approaching.)
CYRANO'S VOICE (behind the scenes, singing): La, la, la, la!
THE DUENNA (surprised): They serenade us?
CYRANO (followed by two pages with arch-lutes): I tell you they are demi-semi-quavers, demi-semi-fool!
FIRST PAGE (ironically): You know then, Sir, to distinguish between semi-quavers and demi-semi- quavers?
CYRANO: Is not every disciple of Gassendi a musician?
THE PAGE (playing and singing): La, la!
CYRANO (snatching the lute from him, and going on with the phrase): In proof of which, I can continue! La, la, la, la!
ROXANE (appearing on the balcony): What? 'Tis you?
CYRANO (going on with the air, and singing to it): 'Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o- oses!
ROXANE: I am coming down!
(She leaves the balcony.)
THE DUENNA (pointing to the pages): How come these two virtuosi here?
CYRANO: 'Tis for a wager I won of D'Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar; contradictions raged hotly--''Tis so!' 'Nay, 'tis so!' when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skillful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws! 'I will wager you a day's music,' says he!--And lost it! Thus, see you, till Phoebus' chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody. 'Twas pleasant at the first, but i' faith, I begin to weary of it already! (To the musicians): Ho there! go serenade Montfleury for me! Play a dance to him! (The pages go toward the door. To the duenna): I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether. . . (To the pages, who are going out): Play a long time,--and play out of tune! (To the duenna): . . .Whether her soul's elected is ever the same, ever faultless!
ROXANE (coming out of the house): Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And--how well I love him!
CYRANO (smiling): Christian has so brilliant a wit?
ROXANE: Brighter than even your own, cousin!
CYRANO: Be it so, with all my heart!
ROXANE: Ah! methinks 'twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much-- that mean all! At times his mind seems far away, the Muse says naught--and then, presto! he speaks--bewitchingly! enchantingly!
CYRANO (incredulously): No, no!
ROXANE: Fie! That is ill said! But lo! men are ever thus!