Part 8
CYRANO (_throwing to him the book he holds in his hand_).
The Iliad!
OTHER CADET.
Meanwhile, the Minister in Paris has his four meals a day!
CYRANO.
He ought certainly to send you at least a partridge.
SAME CADET.
Why not? And some wine with it too!
CYRANO.
Richelieu, some Burgundy, if you please!
SAME CADET.
By one of his capuchins!
CYRANO.
The Grey Eminence is so intoxicating!
OTHER CADET.
I'm as hungry as a bear!
CYRANO.
Well, bear it![23]
FIRST CADET (_shrugging his shoulders_).
Forever words, a point!
CYRANO.
A point and words! 'Tis true; and I should like to die--at eve, The sky aglow--as the defender of A noble cause, a soldier and a poet too, With, on my lips, the thrill of daring words, And in my heart a sword's ennobling point!
ALL.
We're hungry!
CYRANO (_crossing his arms_).
So--you think of naught but food! Come up here, then, Bertrandou, with your fife. Seek shepherds' notes, and let these gluttons feast Upon some old and ne'er forgotten tune Each sound of which is like a sister's voice; An air that slowly winds its way aloft, As does the smoke from lowly cottage roofs, A lay of youth, of waiting hearts and home!
(_Bertrandou prepares his fife._)
Let fife a while forget the battle note, Remembering that it was born a reed.
(_Bertrandou begins playing some Gascony airs._)
Ye Gascons, list! 'Tis war no more, but peace. 'Tis hill and dale, 'tis wood and meadow-land, With red-capped lads beside their gentle herds; 'Tis smiling riverbank and sunny sea. O Gascons, hark! You are in Gascony!
(_All have bowed their heads and are dreaming: many brush away a tear._)
CARBON (_to Cyrano, aside_).
But, instead of giving them courage, you make them weep!
CYRANO.
I've made them homesick!.... A noble sort of suffering .... nobler than hunger. It is a comfort to see their pain change organs, and pass from their stomachs to their hearts!
CARBON.
But you will weaken them!
CYRANO (_motioning to a drummer to come up_).
Never mind! The heroes' blood that is in them will soon arouse them!
(_He motions to the drummer, who begins beating his drum._)
ALL THE CADETS (_rushing to their arms_).
Hey!.... What?.... What is it?....
CYRANO (_smiling, to Carbon_).
You see that, at the sound of the drum, dreams, longings, thoughts of home, of love,....all fly away. What comes by the fife goes by the drum.[24]
A CADET (_from the rear_).
Ha! ha! here is Monsieur de Guiche!
ALL THE CADETS (_murmuring_).
Hou....
CYRANO (_smiling_).
Quite complimentary!
A CADET.
He is a bore, with his lace collar over his armour. He comes here to exhibit himself!
OTHER CADET.
As if lace were in keeping with iron!
OTHER CADET.
Good if one has a boil on his neck!
OTHER CADET.
Too much of the courtier!
OTHER CADET.
The nephew of his uncle, the Cardinal.
CARBON.
And still he's a Gascon!
FIRST CADET.
Not a true one!....Beware! Because Gascons, you know, must be madcaps. There is nothing more dangerous than a reasonable Gascon.
LE BRET.
How pale he is!
A CADET.
He is hungry.... Just as much as we poor devils. But his breastplate gives a lustre to his cramps!
CYRANO (_quickly_).
We should not appear to suffer more than he does! Here! all of you, take up your cards, your pipes and your dice....
(_They all rapidly begin playing, on benches, drums, or on their cloaks spread out on the ground, meanwhile lighting long pipes._)
.... and I ... will read Descartes.
(_He walks up and down, reading a small book that he has taken out of his pocket.--Tableau.--Guiche enters; everybody seems busy and satisfied. He is very pale; goes up to Carbon._)
[23] Note.--"Tu croques le marmot" (literally "you are eating the baby") is an allusion to ogres' proverbial taste for infants, coupled with the somewhat slangy meaning: "you are waiting long and impatiently." This in English would be meaningless, and was perforce replaced by what seems to be a fair equivalent.
[24] Note.--A French proverb.
_SCENE IV._
_The same_, GUICHE.
GUICHE (_to Carbon_).
Ha! Good morning!
(_Aside, after looking at Carbon, with satisfaction_). His face is green!
CARBON (_aside_).
There is nothing left of him but his eyes.
GUICHE (_looking at the Cadets_).
So, here are these soreheads!.... Yes, gentlemen, I understand that I am jeered at plentifully here; that cadets, nobility and gentry, barons all, are not over-burdened with respect for their Colonel; that they charge me with intrigue and court-flattery, that my lace collar over my breastplate is an eye-sore to them,--and that it is distressing to them to find that one can be a Gascon and still not out at the elbow!
(_Silence. The Cadets continue to play and smoke._)
Shall I have you punished by your Captain? No.
CARBON.
Well, I am free and I punish only....
GUICHE.
Ah!....
CARBON.
I paid for my company, and it belongs to me. I obey only to war commands.
GUICHE.
Ah!.... Well, that is sufficient.
(_speaking to the Cadets_).
I can afford to scorn your bluster. Everybody knows how I behave under fire. Even yesterday, there were enough witnesses to the spirit with which I routed Count de Bucquoi; leading my people against his men like an avalanche, I charged him three successive times!
CYRANO (_without lifting his eyes from his book_).
How about your white scarf?
GUICHE (_surprised and satisfied_).
You know of this trifle?.... True, it happened, while I was circling to gather my people for the third charge, that a party of runaways forced me too close to the enemy; I was in danger of being taken or shot, when, happily, I bethought me to untie and to drop the scarf that told my rank. In this way, and without attracting notice, I managed to get away from the Spaniards, and to turn back upon them with all my men, beating them terribly!--Now, what do you say to this?
(_The Cadets affect not to listen, but they have stopped playing, and they hold back the smoke of their pipes. A wait._)
CYRANO.
I say that Henry IV, even surrounded by a host of foes, never would have consented to diminish himself by casting off his plume of snowy white.
(_Silent joy. Playing and smoking are resumed._)
GUICHE.
The device was successful, however!
(_Playing and smoking again suspended._)
CYRANO.
Possibly! But who would abdicate the honour of being a target?
(_Playing and smoking resumed. Growing satisfaction._)
Had I been present when the scarf slipped off,--see how ideas of bravery can vary, Sir,--I should have picked it up and put it on.
GUICHE.
Yes, Gascon boasting again!
CYRANO.
Boasting?.... Lend it to me. I offer to hang it on my shoulder and, this very night, to scale with it the enemy's fortifications.
GUICHE.
A Gascon's offer! You know full well that the scarf remained on the enemy's ground, near the river Scarpe, a place so well covered by Spanish guns that nobody can venture there to get it!
CYRANO (_taking a white scarf from his pocket and handing it to Guiche_).
Here it is!
(_Silence. The Cadets restrain their laughter and affect to be very busy playing. Guiche turns and looks at them; they assume an air of great gravity; one of them, in an absent-minded way, half whistles one of the airs the fife played a while before._)
GUICHE (_taking the scarf_).
Thank you! I can use this white fabric to make a signal,--that I hesitated to give.
(_He goes to the embankment and waves the scarf several times._)
ALL.
What is this?
THE SENTINEL (_on the embankment_).
A man, over there, who is running away!....
GUICHE (_coming down from the embankment_).
One who plays the part of a Spanish spy. He is very useful to us; takes over to the enemy information that I give him, so that we can influence their decision.
CYRANO.
He is a blackguard!
GUICHE (_slowly tying on his scarf_).
Yes, but a great convenience. What were we saying?.... Ah!.... I was going to apprise you of something. Last night, in a desperate attempt to revictual us, the Marshal left for Dourlens; he took with him so many men that an attack upon us just now would certainly be successful. Half of the army is away from the camp!
CARBON.
But the Spanish do not know of it.
GUICHE.
Yes, they do. They are going to attack us. My false spy came to tell me of it. He added: "I can have the attack made wherever you prefer." I answered: "Good. Leave the camp and watch it. The point to attack will be the one from which I make a signal to you."
CARBON (_to the Cadets_).
Gentlemen, make ready!
(_The Cadets rise and busy themselves preparing for the fight._)
GUICHE.
The attack will take place in an hour from now.
A FEW CADETS.
Oh!.... that is different!
(_They sit down and resume playing._)
GUICHE (_to Carbon_).
You must gain time, pending the Marshal's return.
CARBON.
And, in order to gain time, what shall we do?
GUICHE.
You will have the goodness to get killed, all of you, in defense of the camp.
CYRANO.
Ah! this is his vengeance!
GUICHE.
I will not pretend that, if I loved you, I should have selected you; but, as your bravery has no equal, by using you I am serving my king as well as my ill-will.
CYRANO.
Allow me, Sir, to be thankful for the honour.
GUICHE.
Oh! I know that you love to fight one against a hundred. You certainly cannot complain, then, that I leave you inactive.
(_He goes toward the rear with Carbon._)
CYRANO (_to the Cadets_).
Well, then we will add to the Gascon coat of arms, proud of its six chevrons of azure and gold, gentlemen, another chevron, still lacking, one of blood!
(_Guiche speaks, aside, with Carbon in the rear. Orders are given. Preparations against attack. Cyrano goes up to Christian, who has remained motionless with folded arms._)
CYRANO (_placing his hand on Christian's shoulder_).
Christian!
CHRISTIAN (_shaking his head_).
Roxane.
CYRANO.
Alas!
CHRISTIAN.
At least, I should like to condense all the loving farewells of my heart into a beautiful letter!....
CYRANO.
I thought it might be for to-day, and....
(_He draws a letter from his doublet_)
.... I have written your farewell.
CHRISTIAN.
Let me see!....
CYRANO.
You desire to?....
CHRISTIAN (_taking the letter_).
Yes, certainly!
(_He opens the letter, reads, and stops._)
What is this?....
CYRANO.
What?
CHRISTIAN.
This little round spot?....
CYRANO (_taking the letter and looking at it with an air of innocence_).
A little round spot?....
CHRISTIAN.
Yes, a tear!
CYRANO.
Oh!.... Yes!.... we poets are caught in our own trap, through the swing of our art. You understand.... this letter,--was heart-rending; I drew tears from my own eyes as I was writing it.
CHRISTIAN.
Tears?....
CYRANO.
Yes.... because.... to die is not so terrible .... but ....never to see her again, that is the torture! for the fact is, I shall never....
(_Christian looks at him._)
We shall never....
(_Quickly_).
You shall never....
CHRISTIAN (_snatching the letter from him_).
Give me the letter!
(_A murmur is heard in the rear._)
A SENTINEL.
Ventrebieu! who goes there?
(_A few musket shots. Voices. Sound of carriage bells._)
CARBON.
What is it?
SENTINEL (_on the embankment_).
A coach!
(_All rush up to look._)
CRIES.
What! In the camp?--Coming in!--It seems to come from the enemy!--Diantre! Fire!--No! the coachman shouted!--Shouted what?--Shouted: "Service of the King."
(_They are all on the embankment, looking into the distance. The sound of carriage bells grows nearer and nearer._)
GUICHE.
What? of the King!....
(_All come down again and form in line._)
CARBON.
Hats off, all!
GUICHE (_to those in the distance_).
Of the King! I said.--Make way, you rabble, so that he can swing around in state.
(_The coach enters on a full trot. It is covered with mud and dust. The curtains are closed. Two lackeys behind. It stops short._)
CARBON (_shouting_).
Salute!
(_Drums beat._)
GUICHE.
Lower the step!
(_Two men advance rapidly. The coach door opens._)
ROXANE (_jumping out of coach_).
How are you all?
(_On hearing a woman's voice, they all, from a profound inclination, suddenly straighten up. Stupor._)
_SCENE V._
_The same_, ROXANE.
GUICHE.
Service of the King! You?
ROXANE.
Certainly, of the only king there is: Love!
CYRANO.
Great God.
CHRISTIAN (_rushing up to her_).
You, Roxane! Wherefor?
ROXANE.
Oh! this siege was entirely too long.
CHRISTIAN.
But the reason?....
ROXANE.
I'll tell you later.
CYRANO (_he has remained motionless, without daring to look at her_).
Heavens! Shall I face her?
GUICHE.
You cannot remain here!
ROXANE (_gayly_).
Oh! yes, I can! Will you be kind enough to bring up a drum?
(_One of the Cadets brings up a drum, on which she sits._)
There! thank you.
(_laughing_).
Do you know that they fired on my coach? It looks like a squash, does it not? As in the fairy tale; and the lackeys like rats.
(_sending a kiss to Christian_).
How are you, dear?
(_looking around at them all_).
You don't seem to be very merry here! I didn't know that Arras was so far off.
(_looking at Cyrano_).
Cousin, delighted!
CYRANO (_advancing_).
Roxane, tell me how?....
ROXANE.
How I managed to find the army? Oh! my dear friend, it was the simplest thing in the world: I drove on so long as I saw the country laid waste. Such horrors must be seen to be believed! If that is the service of your King, gentlemen, my service is a better one.
CYRANO.
Come, this is foolhardiness! How could you pass?
ROXANE.
How? Why! Right through the Spanish army.
FIRST CADET.
Oh! women. They are knowing ones!
GUICHE.
But how could you get through their lines?
LE BRET.
It must have been very difficult!
ROXANE.
Why! No. I just went along, in my coach, on a trot. Whenever one of the Dons showed his haughty face, I put on and displayed through the window my most fascinating smile, and these gentlemen being, whatever the French may say, the most courteous people in the world, I passed!
CARBON.
Yes, you have a most excellent passport in that smile! But you must frequently have been called upon, Madam, to declare whither you were going.
ROXANE.
Oh! yes, quite frequently. I answered simply: "I am going to see my lover."--Immediately the most ferocious Spaniard would gravely close the door of my coach, with a knightly wave of the hand order up the muskets already pointed at me, and, with as much grace as haughtiness, the plume of his hat proudly floating on the breeze, bow low and say: "Pass on, Senorita!"
CHRISTIAN.
But, Roxane....
ROXANE.
I said: My lover. Yes, husband, you must forgive! You will surely understand that, if I had said my husband, nobody would have let me pass!
CHRISTIAN.
But....
ROXANE.
Well, what?
GUICHE.
You must be gone immediately!
ROXANE.
I?
CYRANO.
Yes, and sooner!
CHRISTIAN.
Yes, at once.
ROXANE.
But how can I get away?
CHRISTIAN (_embarrassed_).
The fact is....
CYRANO (_likewise embarrassed_).
In forty-five minutes....
GUICHE (_also embarrassed_).
Or fifty....
CARBON (_embarrassed too_).
It would be preferable....
LE BRET.
You might....
ROXANE.
I remain, for there is going to be fighting.
ALL.
Fighting? Nothing of the kind.
ROXANE (_throwing herself into the arms of Christian_).
He is my husband! And if he is killed, I must be killed too!
CHRISTIAN.
But what is the matter with your eyes?
ROXANE.
I will tell you later!
GUICHE.
But the post is a most dangerous one.
ROXANE (_turning_).
What! So dangerous?
CYRANO.
Yes, and the proof is that he assigned it to us.
ROXANE (_to Guiche_).
So, you desire to make a widow of me?
GUICHE.
I swear to you....
ROXANE.
No! Now I am determined and I will not leave!.... Moreover, it is very exciting.
CYRANO.
What! will the "précieuse" turn out to be a heroine?
ROXANE.
Monsieur de Bergerac, I am your cousin.
A CADET.
Moreover, we will defend you desperately!
ROXANE (_growing more and more excited_).
I believe it, my friends!
ANOTHER CADET (_elated_).
A perfume of iris pervades the camp.
ROXANE.
Just so! I put some on this hat, which will be very becoming in the fray!....
(_looking at Guiche_).
But perhaps it is time the Count should leave: the fight might begin.
GUICHE.
Ah! this is too much! I will inspect the guns and return .... You have a little time left still,....change your mind!
ROXANE.
Never!
(_Exit Guiche._)
_SCENE VI._
_The same, except_ GUICHE.
CHRISTIAN (_supplicating_).
Roxane!....
ROXANE.
No!
FIRST CADET (_to the others_).
She remains!
ALL (_rushing around hurriedly, and brushing up_).
A comb!--Soap!--My doublet is torn: a needle!--A bright bow!--Your looking glass!--My cuffs!--Your curling iron!--A razor!
ROXANE (_to Cyrano, who continues begging her to leave_).
No! I will not budge from here!
CARBON (_after having, like the others, tightened his belt and arranged his cuffs, advances toward Roxane and says ceremoniously:_)
Such being the case, it may not seem improper for me to present to you a few of the gentlemen who will have the honour of dying before your eyes.
(_Roxane bows, and waits leaning on the arm of Christian. Carbon makes the presentations._)
Baron de Peyrescous de Colignac!
A CADET (_bowing_).
Madam....
CARBON (_continuing_).
Baron de Casterac de Cahuzac!--Baron de Malgouyre Estressac Lesbas d'Escarabiot!--Chevalier d'Antignac-Juzet!--Baron Hillot de Blagnac--Salechan de Castel Crabioules!
ROXANE.
But how many names has each of you.
BARON HILLOT.
More than many.
CARBON (_to Roxane_).
Kindly open the hand that holds your handkerchief.
ROXANE (_opens her hand; her handkerchief falls_).
What for?
(_The whole company darts forward to pick it up._)
CARBON (_heading them off and seizing it_).
My company had no flag! Now it will have the finest in the camp!
ROXANE (_smiling_).
It is rather small!
CARBON (_tying the handkerchief to his lance_).
It is lace.... and yours!
A CADET (_to the others_).
I would die most willingly for eyes so beautiful, if only I could have a crust of bread or two.
CARBON (_indignant_).
For shame! How can you think of eating before so exquisite a woman?....
ROXANE.
But he is right. The morning air is sharp, and I myself am famished. Meat-pie,--cold game and jelly, some good wine,--I'll have nothing else, thank you! Suppose we have them now? There is still time.
A CADET.
But where shall we get all these good things?
ROXANE (_quietly_).
In my coach.
ALL.
What!....
ROXANE.
But somebody must serve and carve. Look at my coachman more attentively, gentlemen, and you will see that he is a very valuable man.
THE CADETS (_running up to the coach_).
Why! It's Ragueneau!
ROXANE (_looking at them_).
Poor hungry fellows!
CYRANO (_kissing her hand_).
What a kind fairy you are!
RAGUENEAU (_standing on his seat_).
Gentlemen!....
THE CADETS.
Speech! Speech!
RAGUENEAU.
The Spaniards, when so much beauty passed, did not see the repast. (_Applause._) They are so bony that they did not notice the boned turkey.
(_He takes a dish from under his seat and passes it down._)
CYRANO (_aside to Christian_).
A word with you for pity's sake!....
RAGUENEAU.
They were so busy with Venus that they allowed Diana's spoils to pass.
(_He hands down a stag's leg._)
CYRANO (_aside to Christian_).
I must speak to you!
ROXANE (_to the Cadets who come up loaded with eatables_).
Place all that on the ground.
(_She spreads a table-cloth on the grass, and, with the assistance of the two lackeys, prepares the cover._)
(_to Christian, whom Cyrano is endeavouring to draw aside_).
Come, make yourself useful.
(_Christian helps her. Cyrano looks anxious._)
RAGUENEAU.
A stuffed peacock!
A CADET (_cutting for himself a large slice of ham_).
Jupiter's thunder! We'll not die without previously ....stuffing our....(_noticing Roxane_) your pardon.... feasting!
RAGUENEAU (_tossing to them the coach's cushions_).
These cushions are stuffed with ortolans!
(_Confusion. Cushions ripped open. Laughter. Joy._)
THIRD CADET.
Ah! Viédaze!
RAGUENEAU (_handing out bottles of red wine_).
Liquid rubies!....
(_Bottles of white wine._)
Melted topaz!....
ROXANE (_throwing a table-cloth that falls on Cyrano's head_).
Attend to this!.... Be nimble!
RAGUENEAU (_handing down one of the lanterns_).
Each one of the lanterns is a diminutive larder!
CYRANO (_unfolds the table-cloth, getting near to Christian, who assists him_).
I must speak to you before you speak to her!
RAGUENEAU (_growing lyrical_).
The handle of my whip is a sausage from Arles!
ROXANE (_passing the dishes and filling glasses_).
Since we are ordered to die, what care we for the rest of the army?--Yes! all for the Gascons!--and, if Guiche comes, we'll not invite him! (_going from one to the other_).
Come, you have plenty of time. Do not eat so fast! Drink a little.--Why have you tears in your eyes?
FIRST CADET.
Because it's all too good!....
ROXANE.
Hush!--Red or white?--Bread, Monsieur de Carbon!--A knife?--Your plate!--Meat pie?--Champagne wine?--Chicken?
CYRANO (_following her, loaded with eatables, and helping her to serve. Aside_).
How I love her!
ROXANE (_going up to Christian_).
And what will _you_ have?
CHRISTIAN.
Nothing.
ROXANE.
Yes, just a cake and a little Muscatel!
CHRISTIAN (_endeavouring to detain her_).
Oh! tell me why, why you came?
ROXANE.
Hush! Let me first give these poor starving fellows something to eat.... I'll tell you by and by....
LE BRET (_who had gone to the rear, to pass, on the end of a lance, a loaf of bread to the sentinel on the embankment_).
Here is Guiche!
CYRANO.
Make haste, hide bottles, dishes, plates, baskets, everything! Be lively there! Let him notice nothing!....
(_to Ragueneau_).
You, get up to your box again!--Be quick! Everything out of the way!
(_It has taken only a few seconds to conceal everything, under tent, doublet, cloak or hat.--Enter Guiche. He stops and sniffs the air.--Silence._)
_SCENE VII._
_The same_, GUICHE.
GUICHE.
It smells good here!
A CADET (_humming an air, unconcernedly_).
To lo lo!....
GUICHE (_stopping and looking at him_).
Why! what is the matter?.... You are as red as a beet!
THE CADET.
I?.... Oh! nothing. Merely my blood. We are going to fight. It boils!
ANOTHER CADET.
Poum.... poum.... poum.... patapoum....
GUICHE (_turning to him_).
What is this, now?
THE CADET (_slightly feeling the effects of wine_).
That, oh! nothing. Just a little song!
GUICHE.
You are of a lively disposition, my boy!
THE CADET.
Oh! the approach of danger!
GUICHE (_calling Carbon to give an order_).
Captain,....
(_looking at him with astonishment_).
Zounds! You, too, have an over-healthy look!
CARBON (_very red in the face, and hiding a bottle behind his back_).
Oh! constitution....
GUICHE.
I had a field-piece left and I ordered it placed in that corner (_pointing to the wings_).
Your men may have occasion to use it.
ONE OF THE CADETS (_with an affectation of thankfulness_).
Delightful attention!
ANOTHER CADET (_smiling gracefully_).
Exquisitely thoughtful!
GUICHE (_aside_).
Why! they have all gone mad!--
(_sternly_).
As you are not accustomed to using cannon, beware of the recoil.
FIRST CADET.
Who cares for recoil?
GUICHE (_going up to him, in rage_).
Look here, Sir!....
THE CADET.
Gascon guns never move backward.
GUICHE (_taking him by the arm and shaking him_).
You are intoxicated, Sir!.... with what?
THE CADET (_proudly_).
With the smell of gun powder!
GUICHE (_shrugs his shoulders, pushes him, and goes up to Roxane_).
You must decide quickly. What will you be pleased to do?
ROXANE.
I remain!
GUICHE.
No, better escape!
ROXANE.
Fly? Never.
GUICHE.
Such being the case, give me a musket!
CARBON.
What for?
GUICHE.
I, too, will remain.
CYRANO.
At last, Sir, you show your courage!
FIRST CADET.
So you are a true Gascon, after all, in spite of your lace?
GUICHE.
I never abandon a woman in danger!
SECOND CADET (_to the first Cadet_).
Say! don't you think he deserves something to eat?
(_Eatables and drinkables instantly reappear._)
GUICHE (_whose eyes brighten_).
Provisions!
THIRD CADET.
Every doublet covers some!
GUICHE (_mastering himself, proudly_).
I eat nobody's leavings!
CYRANO (_bowing_).