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Cyrano de Bergerac [29]

By Root 969 0
The night is dark. . .

CHRISTIAN: Well!

CYRANO: All can be repaired. Although you merit not. Stand there, poor wretch! Fronting the balcony! I'll go beneath And prompt your words to you. . .

CHRISTIAN: But. . .

CYRANO: Hold your tongue!

THE PAGES (reappearing at back--to Cyrano): Ho!

CYRANO: Hush!

(He signs to them to speak softly.)

FIRST PAGE (in a low voice): We've played the serenade you bade To Montfleury!

CYRANO (quickly, in a low voice): Go! lurk in ambush there, One at this street corner, and one at that; And if a passer-by should here intrude, Play you a tune!

SECOND PAGE: What tune, Sir Gassendist?

CYRANO: Gay, if a woman comes,--for a man, sad! (The pages disappear, one at each street corner. To Christian): Call her!

CHRISTIAN: Roxane!

CYRANO (picking up stones and throwing them at the window): Some pebbles! wait awhile!

ROXANE (half-opening the casement): Who calls me?

CHRISTIAN: I!

ROXANE: Who's that?

CHRISTIAN: Christian!

ROXANE (disdainfully): Oh! you?

CHRISTIAN: I would speak with you.

CYRANO (under the balcony--to Christian): Good. Speak soft and low.

ROXANE: No, you speak stupidly!

CHRISTIAN: Oh, pity me!

ROXANE: No! you love me no more!

CHRISTIAN (prompted by Cyrano): You say--Great Heaven! I love no more?--when--I--love more and more!

ROXANE (who was about to shut the casement, pausing): Hold! 'tis a trifle better! ay, a trifle!

CHRISTIAN (same play): Love grew apace, rocked by the anxious beating. . . Of this poor heart, which the cruel wanton boy. . . Took for a cradle!

ROXANE (coming out on to the balcony): That is better! But An if you deem that Cupid be so cruel You should have stifled baby-love in's cradle!

CHRISTIAN (same play): Ah, Madame, I assayed, but all in vain This. . .new-born babe is a young. . .Hercules!

ROXANE: Still better!

CHRISTIAN (same play): Thus he strangled in my heart The. . .serpents twain, of. . .Pride. . .and Doubt!

ROXANE (leaning over the balcony): Well said! --But why so faltering? Has mental palsy Seized on your faculty imaginative?

CYRANO (drawing Christian under the balcony, and slipping into his place): Give place! This waxes critical!. . .

ROXANE: To-day. . . Your words are hesitating.

CYRANO (imitating Christian--in a whisper): Night has come. . . In the dusk they grope their way to find your ear.

ROXANE: But my words find no such impediment.

CYRANO: They find their way at once? Small wonder that! For 'tis within my heart they find their home; Bethink how large my heart, how small your ear! And,--from fair heights descending, words fall fast, But mine must mount, Madame, and that takes time!

ROXANE: Meseems that your last words have learned to climb.

CYRANO: With practice such gymnastic grows less hard!

ROXANE: In truth, I seem to speak from distant heights!

CYRANO: True, far above; at such a height 'twere death If a hard word from you fell on my heart.

ROXANE (moving): I will come down. . .

CYRANO (hastily): No!

ROXANE (showing him the bench under the balcony): Mount then on the bench!

CYRANO (starting back alarmed): No!

ROXANE: How, you will not?

CYRANO (more and more moved): Stay awhile! 'Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing!

ROXANE: Why--unseen?

CYRANO: Ay, it is sweet! Half hidden,--half revealed-- You see the dark folds of my shrouding cloak, And I, the glimmering whiteness of your dress: I but a shadow--you a radiance fair! Know you what such a moment holds for me? If ever I were eloquent. . .

ROXANE: You were!

CYRANO: Yet never till to-night my speech has sprung Straight from my heart as now it springs.

ROXANE: Why not?

CYRANO: Till now I spoke haphazard. . .

ROXANE: What?

CYRANO: Your eyes Have beams that turn men dizzy!--But to-night Methinks I shall find speech
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