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LISE (offended): One haughty glance of my eye can conquer any
man that should dare venture aught 'gainst my virtue。
CYRANO: Pooh! Conquering eyes; methinks; are oft conquered
eyes。
LISE (choking with anger): But
CYRANO (incisively): I like Ragueneau well; and somark me;
Dame LiseI permit not that he be rendered a laughing…stock by any。 。 。
LISE: But。 。 。
CYRANO (who has raised his voice so as to be heard by the gallant):
A word to the wise。 。 。
(He bows to the musketeer; and goes to the doorway to watch; after
looking at the clock。)
LISE (to the musketeer; who has merely bowed in answer to Cyrano's
bow): How now? Is this your courage?。 。 。Why turn you not a jest on
his nose?
THE MUSKETEER: On his nose?。 。 。ay; ay。 。 。his nose。
(He goes quickly farther away; Lise follows him。)
CYRANO (from the doorway; signing to Ragueneau to draw the poets
away): Hist!。 。 。
RAGUENEAU (showing them the door on the right): We shall be
more private there。 。 。
CYRANO (impatiently): Hist! Hist!。 。 。
RAGUENEAU (drawing them farther): To read poetry; 'tis better
here。 。 。
FIRST POET (despairingly; with his mouth full): What! leave the
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cakes?。 。 。
SECOND POET: Never! Let's take them with us!
(They all follow Ragueneau in procession; after sweeping all the cakes
off the trays。)
SCENE 2。V。
Cyrano; Roxane; the duenna。
CYRANO: Ah! if I see but the faint glimmer of hope; then I draw
out my letter! (Roxane; masked; followed by the duenna; appears at the
glass pane of the door。 He opens quickly): Enter!。 。 。 (Walking up to
the duenna): Two words with you; Duenna。
THE DUENNA: Four; Sir; an it like you。
CYRANO: Are you fond of sweet things?
THE DUENNA: Ay; I could eat myself sick on them!
CYRANO (catching up some of the paper bags from the counter):
Good。 See you these two sonnets of Monsieur Beuserade。 。 。
THE DUENNA: Hey?
CYRANO: 。 。 。Which I fill for you with cream cakes!
THE DUENNA (changing her expression): Ha。
CYRANO: What say you to the cake they call a little puff?
THE DUENNA: If made with cream; Sir; I love them passing well。
CYRANO: Here I plunge six for your eating into the bosom of a
poem by Saint Amant! And in these verses of Chapelain I glide a lighter
morsel。 Stay; love you hot cakes?
THE DUENNA: Ay; to the core of my heart!
CYRANO (filling her arms with the bags): Pleasure me then; go eat
them all in the street。
THE DUENNA: But。 。 。
CYRANO (pushing her out): And come not back till the very last
crumb be eaten!
(He shuts the door; comes down toward Roxane; and; uncovering;
stands at a respectful distance from her。)
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SCENE 2。VI。
Cyrano; Roxane。
CYRANO: Blessed be the moment when you condescend
Remembering that humbly I exist To come to meet me; and to
say。 。 。to tell?。 。 。
ROXANE (who has unmasked): To thank you first of all。 That
dandy count; Whom you checkmated in brave sword…play Last
night;。 。 。he is the man whom a great lord; Desirous of my favor。 。 。
CYRANO: Ha; De Guiche?
ROXANE (casting down her eyes): Sought to impose on me。 。 。for
husband。 。 。
CYRANO: Ay! Husband!dupe…husband!。 。 。Husband a la mode!
(Bowing): Then I fought; happy chance! sweet lady; not For my ill
favorbut your favors fair!
ROXANE: Confession next!。 。 。But; ere I make my shrift; You
must be once again that brother…friend With whom I used to play by the
lake…side!。 。 。
CYRANO: Ay; you would come each spring to Bergerac!
ROXANE: Mind you the reeds you cut to make your swords?。 。 。
CYRANO: While you wove corn…straw plaits for your dolls' hair!
ROXANE: Those were the days of games!。 。 。
CYRANO: And blackberries!。 。 。
ROXANE: In those days you did everything I bid!。 。 。
CYRANO: Roxane; in her short frock; was Madeleine。 。 。
ROXANE: Was I fair then?
CYRANO: You were not ill to see!
ROXANE: Ofttimes; with hands all bloody from a fall; You'd
run to me! Thenaping mother…ways I; in a voice would…be severe;
would chide; (She takes his hand): 'What is this scratch; again; that I
see here?' (She starts; surprised): Oh! 'Tis too much! What's this?
(Cyrano tries to draw away his hand): No; let me see! At your age;
fie! Where did you get that scratch?
CYRANO: I got itplaying at the Porte de Nesle。
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ROXANE (seating herself by the table; and dipping her handkerchief
in a glass of water): Give here!
CYRANO (sitting by her): So soft! so gay maternal…sweet!
ROXANE: And tell me; while I wipe away the blood; How
many 'gainst you?
CYRANO: Oh! A hundrednear。
ROXANE: Come; tell me!
CYRANO: No; let be。 But you; come tell The thing; just now;
you dared not。 。 。
ROXANE (keeping his hand): Now; I dare! The scent of those
old days emboldens me! Yes; now I dare。 Listen。 I am in love。
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE: But with one who knows not。
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE: Not yet。
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE: But who; if he knows not; soon shall learn。
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE: A poor youth who all this time has loved Timidly;
from afar; and dares not speak。 。 。
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE: Leave your hand; why; it is fever…hot! But I have
seen love trembling on his lips。
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE (bandaging his hand with her handkerchief): And to
think of it! that he by chance Yes; cousin; he is of your regiment!
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE (laughing): Is cadet in your own company!
CYRANO: Ah!。 。 。
ROXANE: On his brow he bears the genius…stamp; He is proud;
noble; young; intrepid; fair。 。 。
CYRANO (rising suddenly; very pale): Fair!
ROXANE: Why; what ails you?
CYRANO: Nothing; 'tis。 。 。 (He shows his hand; smiling): This
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scratch!
ROXANE: I love him; all is said。 But you must know I have
only seen him at the Comedy。 。 。
CYRANO: How? You have never spoken?
ROXANE: Eyes can speak。
CYRANO: How know you then that he。 。 。?
ROXANE: Oh! people talk 'Neath the limes in the Place
Royale。 。 。 Gossip's chat Has let me know。 。 。
CYRANO: He is cadet?
ROXANE: In the Guards。
CYRANO: His name?
ROXANE: Baron Christian de Neuvillette。
CYRANO: How now?。 。 。He is not of the Guards!
ROXANE: To…day He is not join your ranks; under Captain
Carbon de Castel…Jaloux。
CYRANO: Ah; how quick; How quick the heart has
flown!。 。 。But; my poor child。 。 。
THE DUENNA (opening the door): The cakes are eaten; Monsieur
Bergerac!
CYRANO: Then read the verses printed on the bags! (She goes
out): 。 。 。My poor child; you who love but flowing words; Bright
wit;what if he be a lout unskilled?
ROXANE: No; his bright locks; like D'Urfe's hero