Chapter IV: Part 4

That during this terrible siege he shall never be cold!

CYRANO.

If it is at all possible, but....

ROXANE (_still holding on_).

That he shall remain true to me!

CYRANO.

Yes! of course! But I cannot....

ROXANE (_still holding on_).

That he shall write to me often!

CYRANO (_halting_).

Oh! that--I promise you!

_CURTAIN._

_ACT IV._

THE CADETS OF GASCONY.

_The post occupied by the Company of Carbon of Haughty-Hall at the siege of Arras. In the rear, an embankment running across the stage. Beyond, a plain, extending as far as the horizon, covered with siege works. In the distance, the walls of the City of Arras, with the outline of its roofs against the sky. Tents; arms strewn around; drums, etc.--Day is about to dawn; gold in the east. Sentinels here and there. Camp fires.--Rolled up in their cloaks the Cadets of Gascony are sleeping. Carbon of Haughty-Hall and Le Bret are watching. They are very pale and thin. Christian is asleep, in front, his face lighted by a fire. Silence._

_SCENE I._

CHRISTIAN, CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL, LE BRET, THE CADETS,
_later_ CYRANO.

LE BRET.

It's awful!

CARBON.

Yes, nothing left to eat.

LE BRET.

Mordious!

CARBON (_motioning to him to speak lower_).

Deaden your oaths! or you'll wake the men.

(_to the Cadets_).

Sleep on!

(_to Le Bret_).

He who sleeps eats!

LE BRET.

Yes, but waking starves!

(_A few musket reports are heard in the distance._)

CARBON.

Confound the muskets!.... They'll wake up my children.

(_to several of the Cadets who lift up their heads_).

Sleep!

(_More musketry, nearer_).

A CADET (_tossing_).

The Devil! again?

CARBON.

It's nothing! Only Cyrano coming back!

(_The lifted heads lie down again._)

A SENTINEL (_outside_).

Who goes there?

CYRANO (_outside_).

Bergerac!

A SENTINEL (_on the embankment_).

Ventrebieu! who goes there?

CYRANO.

Bergerac, you idiot!

(_He comes down and is met by Le Bret._)

LE BRET.

What, you! wounded?

CYRANO (_raising his hand_).

Hush! You know that they miss me regularly every morning.

LE BRET.

What! risk your life thus, every day, just to carry a letter without the camp! That is going too far.

CYRANO (_stopping in front of Christian_).

I promised that he would write often!

(_looking at him_).

He sleeps. How pale!
If sweet Roxane knew that he is starving! But he has not
lost his good looks.

LE BRET.

Go get some sleep!

CYRANO.

Don't growl, Le Bret!.... Remember this: To pass through the Spanish lines, I long ago selected a place where they are invariably drunk.

LE BRET.

Why don't you once bring back some provisions?

CYRANO.

A load would not leave me light enough to pass through. But there is going to be a change. We, the French, shall soon eat.... or die,--if my eyes did not deceive me....

LE BRET.

How soon?

CYRANO.

You'll see!.... I'm not sure enough to speak.

CARBON.

Isn't it shameful that the besiegers should be the ones to starve!

LE BRET.

An extraordinary siege this! We are besieging Arras, and the Spanish are besieging us.

CYRANO.

Somebody should come now to besiege the Spanish.

LE BRET.

Do not joke so.--When I think that a life, precious as yours is, can be risked daily just to carry....

(_Cyrano walks toward one of the tents._)

Where are you going?

CYRANO.

I am going to write another letter.

(_Enters tent._)

_SCENE II._

_The same, less_ CYRANO.

_Day is dawning. Rosy tints in the sky, and golden ones on the distant city. A gun is heard, then drums beat in the distance, to the left. Other drums are heard, successively, nearer, and nearer, until they sound on the stage, the noise then receding gradually, toward the right. Awakening of the Camp. Officers' commands in the distance._

CARBON (_sighing_).

Reveille!.... Alas!

(_the Cadets begin rising._)

Their dream of dinner is finished.... I know what their cry will be now.

A CADET (_rising_).

I'm hungry!

ANOTHER CADET.

I'm half dead!

OTHER CADETS.

We are dead! quite!

CARBON.

Get up!

SEVERAL CADETS.

Can't!

FIRST CADET (_using his breastplate as a looking-glass_).

My tongue is yellow. Indigestion!

ANOTHER CADET.

As to me, if my gastric organ gets not wherewith to produce a pint of chyle, I'll retire into my tent--like Achilles.

SEVERAL CADETS.

Bread! Something to eat! Now!

CARBON (_going to the tent of Cyrano and speaking
low to him_).

Cyrano, help! Come with your ready wit, and put some life into them. Give them new courage.

A CADET (_to another who is chewing something_).

What are you nibbling at?

THE OTHER CADET.

Cannon wad fried in axle grease! There is but little game around Arras.

ANOTHER CADET (_entering_).

I've been out shooting.

STILL ANOTHER CADET (_likewise entering_).

And I've been fishing in the Scarpe.

ALL THE CADETS (_rushing up to them_).

What have you killed? What have you caught?--A pheasant?--A carp?--Quick, quick, show them!

THE FISHERMAN.

A gudgeon!

THE HUNTSMAN.

A sparrow!

ALL THE CADETS (_exasperated_).

Enough, enough! too much!--let us mutiny!

CARBON.

Help, Cyrano.

(_Daylight has come._)

_SCENE III._

_The same_, CYRANO.

CYRANO (_leaving his tent, perfectly tranquil, a
pen over his ear, book in hand_).

Hey!....

(_Silence. To the first Cadet_).

What makes you drag your feet along so?

THE CADET.

Something in my heels that should not be there!....

CYRANO.

What's that?

THE CADET.

My stomach!

CYRANO.

Mine's the same. What of it?

THE CADET.

Isn't it inconvenient?

CYRANO.

No, it heightens me.

SECOND CADET.

My teeth are very long.

CYRANO.

Well, you can bite off a larger piece.

ANOTHER CADET.

My skin sounds empty.

CYRANO.

We'll use it as a drum, for the charge.

ANOTHER CADET.

There is a humming in my ears.

CYRANO.

Not that; an empty stomach has no ears. Impossible!

OTHER CADET.

Oh! for something to eat,--with good oil!

CYRANO (_taking off the helmet of the Cadet, in
whose hand he places it_).

Eat your salad.

ANOTHER CADET.

What could we find to devour?

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_).

You are improving, Sir!

GUICHE (_proudly and forgetting to master his
natural Gascon accent_).

I know how to fight on an empty stomach! _A jeung!_

FIRST CADET (_overjoyed_).

He said it with the Gascon accent!

GUICHE (_laughing_).

Did I?

THE CADET.

He is one of us!

(_They all begin to dance._)

CARBON (_who has been away a moment behind
the embankment, reappearing on top of it_).

My men are placed, and determined!

(_He points to a row of lances that show over the crest of the
embankment._)

GUICHE (_to Roxane, bowing_).

Will you accept my hand to pass them in review?....

(_She gives her hand and they go up to the embankment. Hats come
off, and everybody follows._)

CHRISTIAN (_going up to Cyrano_).

Now! speak quickly!

(_As Roxane appears on the crest, the lances disappear in a salute;
she bows._)

THE MEN (_outside_).

Hurrah!

CHRISTIAN.

What is your secret?....

CYRANO.

In case Roxane...

CHRISTIAN.

Well?

CYRANO.

Should speak to you of letters....

CHRISTIAN.

Yes, yes, I know!....

CYRANO.

Do not be silly enough to appear surprised....

CHRISTIAN.

Surprised by what?

CYRANO.

Oh! I must tell you.... The simplest thing in the world .... and I happened to think of it only to-day, on seeing her. You have....

CHRISTIAN.

I have what?

CYRANO.

You have....written to her more often than you think.

CHRISTIAN.

How so?

CYRANO.

Well! I had undertaken to speak for you, and I interpreted your love. Sometimes I wrote without saying to you: I'm writing!

CHRISTIAN.

Oh! you did?

CYRANO.

Yes, the simplest thing in the world, as I said!

CHRISTIAN.

But, since we have been hemmed in, how did you manage to....

CYRANO.

Oh!.... Before dawn I could pass through the lines....

CHRISTIAN (_folding his arms_).

Ah! another very simple matter, I suppose? And how many times a week did I write?.... Twice?--Three times?--Four times?--

CYRANO.

More.

CHRISTIAN.

Every day?

CYRANO.

Yes, every day,--twice.

CHRISTIAN (_with violence_).

And this enraptured you, and the rapture was such that each day you faced death....

CYRANO (_noticing Roxane, who is returning_).

Hush! not in her presence!

(_Exit rapidly, under his tent._)

_SCENE VIII._

ROXANE, CHRISTIAN; _in the rear_ CADETS, _going
and coming_: CARBON _and_ GUICHE
_giving orders_.

ROXANE (_running up to Christian_).

And now, dear Christian!....

CHRISTIAN (_taking both her hands_).

And now tell me why, over impassable roads, why, through the ranks of brutal soldiery, you joined me here.

ROXANE.

On account of your letters.

CHRISTIAN.

My letters?

ROXANE.

Yes, and it is your fault if I took so many risks. Your letters intoxicated me. Ah! remember how many you wrote me, during this last month, and all so beautiful!

CHRISTIAN.

What! Do you mean to say that for a few short love letters?....

ROXANE.

Your letters, yes! My ardent love for you,
Love passionate, was born that night of bliss
When, from beneath my willing balcony,
In accents that to both of us were new,
A soul revealed itself to me....'twas yours....
So that, each time your letters came, it seemed
As if I lived those minutes once again,
And, rapture-bound, I heard your voice itself,
Those tender tones that twined around me then.
So here am I! Penelope would not
Have persevered in waiting labour if
Ulysses could have written grandly so;
But, daft as Helen, she, to join him, would
Have flung away her tedious worsted balls.

CHRISTIAN.

But....

ROXANE.

Yes, I read and read, while every thrill
Confirmed me yours. Each leaflet that I held
Was like a petal wafted from your soul,
Each word was one of love sincere and strong....

CHRISTIAN.

Indeed, sincere and strong?--You felt it so?....

ROXANE.

Oh! yes, so strongly!

CHRISTIAN.

And, Roxane, you came....

ROXANE.

I came because.... O Christian, dearest conqueror,
You'd bid me rise, if I should clasp your knees;
So 'tis my soul that's at your feet. My soul
You never can remove from reverence.
I came to seek forgiveness (and the time
Is meet, indeed, since death is near, perhaps!),
Your pardon for--how frivolous I was!--
Once loving you for beauty's sake alone.

CHRISTIAN (_frightened_).

Roxane!

ROXANE.

But later, dear, with growing sense,
--A bird will hop before it learns to soar--
I marked your soul outshining e'en your looks,
And then I loved you more for both.

CHRISTIAN.

And now?

ROXANE.

You have, in short, yourself outshone yourself,
And now I love you for your soul alone.

CHRISTIAN.

Roxane!

ROXANE.

Rejoice! What is a love we owe
To passing gifts, to beauty doomed to fade?
It's torture for an eager, noble heart.
My thoughts of you recall no handsome face;
Your beauty that, at first, had captured me,
Now that my eyes are opened, strikes me not.

CHRISTIAN.

Oh!

ROXANE.

Doubt you not what victory is yours!

CHRISTIAN.

Roxane!

ROXANE.

I understand. Such love as this
Is past belief.

CHRISTIAN.

'Tis not the love I seek.
I wish to be belovèd simply for....

ROXANE.

For what some others prized before to-day?
Oh! let your heart make room for better love!

CHRISTIAN.

Roxane, your former love was better.

ROXANE.

Nay!
'Tis now I love you better, most and well!
'Tis what is really you that now I love,
And I should love you still if you should cease....

CHRISTIAN.

Oh! hush, Roxane.

ROXANE.

Yes, cease to look so grand.

CHRISTIAN.

If I were homely?

ROXANE.

Even hideous!

CHRISTIAN.

Roxane!....

ROXANE.

The thought should give you joy profound.

CHRISTIAN (_in a husky voice_).

Yes....

ROXANE.

What troubles you?

CHRISTIAN (_gently pushing her off_).

Nothing. I have an order to give! One second, please....

ROXANE.

But....

CHRISTIAN (_pointing to a group of Cadets in the rear_).

My love for you, my selfishness, has deprived these poor fellows of your sweet company. Go smile to them a little, since they are about to die.... Go!

ROXANE (_moved_).

How good you are, dear Christian!....

(_She goes up to the Gascons, who respectfully surround her._)

_SCENE IX._

CHRISTIAN, CYRANO: _in the rear_, ROXANE _speaking
with_ CARBON _and some of the Cadets_.

CHRISTIAN (_calling out in the direction of Cyrano's tent_).

Cyrano!

CYRANO (_coming out armed for battle_).

What is it? You are white as a ghost!

CHRISTIAN.

She loves me no more!

CYRANO.

How so?

CHRISTIAN.

You are the one she loves.

CYRANO.

Nonsense!

CHRISTIAN.

Now my soul is all she loves.

CYRANO.

Fiddlesticks!

CHRISTIAN.

I tell you it is so! You therefore are the one she loves,--and you love her.

CYRANO.

I?

CHRISTIAN.

I know it!

CYRANO.

Well, it is true.

CHRISTIAN.

You love her madly.

CYRANO.

More than that.

CHRISTIAN.

Tell her so!

CYRANO.

No!

CHRISTIAN.

Why not?

CYRANO.

Look at my face!

CHRISTIAN.

She said she would love me even if I were homely!

CYRANO.

She really told you so?

CHRISTIAN.

She did!

CYRANO.

I am very glad she said so! But you must not believe anything so wild. Do not lose your beauty, for then she would hate me too much.

CHRISTIAN.

That we shall see. Let her choose! Tell her all.

CYRANO.

No, no! Do not put me to such torture!

CHRISTIAN.

Would you have me destroy your happiness because of my good looks? That would be too unjust!

CYRANO.

And I should ruin yours because I happen, by mere chance, to have the gift of expressing.... that which no doubt you feel?

CHRISTIAN.

Tell her all, I say!

CYRANO.

You persist in tempting me. It is wrong!

CHRISTIAN.

I am tired of having a rival in myself!

CYRANO.

Oh! Christian!

CHRISTIAN.

Our marriage.... without witnesses.... quite secret, in fact, could be annulled.... should we survive!

CYRANO.

How obstinate he is!....

CHRISTIAN.

Perhaps,....but I desire to be loved for myself,....or not at all!--But enough!... I had better go see how things are progressing. I'll return presently; meanwhile, speak, and let her prefer one of us two!

CYRANO.

It shall be you!

CHRISTIAN.

Well.... I hope so!

(_he calls out_) Roxane!

CYRANO.

No, do not call her, please!

ROXANE (_running in_).

What is it?

CHRISTIAN.

Cyrano will tell you... something.... important....

(_She runs up to Cyrano. Exit Christian._)

_SCENE X._

ROXANE, CYRANO, _later_ LE BRET, CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL,
THE CADETS, RAGUENEAU, GUICHE, _etc._

ROXANE.

Something important?....

CYRANO (_bewildered_).

What! he is gone!.... (_to Roxane_)

Oh, nothing!....
he attaches--Oh! well, you must know him!--a great deal
of importance to trifles!

ROXANE (_eagerly_).

He doubts, perhaps, the truth of what I said?.... I could almost see he did not believe it!....

CYRANO (_taking her by the hand_).

But was what you said really true?

ROXANE.

Certainly. I would love him even.... (_she hesitates a second._)

CYRANO (_smiling sadly_).

You stop at the word.... in my presence?

ROXANE.

But....

CYRANO.

It will not hurt my feelings! You meant: Even if he were homely!

ROXANE.

Yes.... homely!

(_Sound of musketry in the rear._)

CYRANO (_ardently_).

Abominably so?

ROXANE.

Yes!

CYRANO.

Disfigured?

ROXANE.

Yes, disfigured!

CYRANO.

Grotesque?

ROXANE.

Nothing can make him look grotesque.... to me!

CYRANO.

And then you would love him still?

ROXANE.

More, perhaps!

CYRANO (_losing his self control, aside_).

Good God! It is true, perhaps, and happiness is there! (_to Roxane_). Well, then.... Roxane.... listen!....

LE BRET (_entering rapidly and calling in a low voice_).

Cyrano!

CYRANO (_turning around_).

What is it?

LE BRET.

Hush! (_whispers to him a few words._)

CYRANO (_dropping Roxane's hand_).

Great God!....

ROXANE.

What has happened?

CYRANO (_stupefied_).

It is all over!

(_Sounds of musketry again._)

ROXANE.

What is it? Why all this firing?

(_She goes up and looks beyond the embankment._)

CYRANO.

All over! I never can tell her!

ROXANE (_as if going to rush out_).

What is going on?

CYRANO (_restraining her_).

Nothing! nothing!

(_Cadets enter bearing something which they conceal by forming
around it a group that keeps Roxane at a distance._)

ROXANE.

What are these men here for?

CYRANO (_leading her away_).

Never mind them!....

ROXANE.

But what is it you were going to say before this disturbance?

CYRANO.

Going to say?.... Nothing. Oh! nothing, I swear it, Madam! (_Solemnly_) I swear that the spirit of Christian and his soul were.... (_correcting himself_) _are_ the greatest....

ROXANE.

You said: were!

(_With a shriek_). Ah!.... (_she rushes back, pushing the men
aside._)

CYRANO.

The end has come!

ROXANE (_seeing Christian laid out in his cloak_).

Christian!

LE BRET (_to Cyrano_).

The first shot fired by the enemy!

(_Roxane throws herself upon the body of Christian. Musketry again.
Clash of arms. Shouts. Drums._)

CARBON OF HAUGHTY-HALL (_sword in hand_).

The attack! to your arms!

(_Followed by the Cadets he goes to the other side of the
embankment._)

ROXANE (_in despair_).

Christian! Christian!

THE VOICE OF CARBON (_from behind the embankment_).

Make haste there!

ROXANE.

Christian!

CARBON.

_Fall into line!_

ROXANE.

Christian!

CARBON.

_Measure.... match!_

(_Ragueneau has rushed up bringing some water in a helmet._)

CHRISTIAN (_in dying tone_).

Roxane!....

CYRANO (_quickly and in a low tone, in the ear
of Christian, while Roxane, frantic, dips
into the water of the helmet a piece of
linen which she has torn from her breast_).

I told her all! and it is you she still loves!

(_Christian closes his eyes._)

ROXANE.

What is it, my love?

CARBON.

_Ramrods.... high!_

ROXANE (_to Cyrano_).

He is not dead?....

CARBON.

_Open charge.... with teeth!_

ROXANE.

I feel, here against mine, his cheek getting cold!

CARBON (_outside_).

_Take aim!_

ROXANE.

A letter in his bosom! (_she opens the letter_) for me!

CYRANO (_aside_).

My letter!

CARBON.

_Fire!_

(_Musketry. Cries. Noise of battle._)

CYRANO (_trying to draw away his hand that is
held by Roxane, who is on her knees_).

But, Roxane, I must join in the fight!

ROXANE (_holding him back_).

Stay just a little. He is dead, and you were the only one who really knew him.

(_She weeps softly._) Is it not true that he had an exquisite soul,
a marvellous one?

CYRANO (_standing bareheaded_).

Yes, Roxane!

ROXANE.

That he was a thrilling poet, an adorable one?

CYRANO.

Yes, Roxane!

ROXANE.

A sublime spirit?

CYRANO.

Yes, Roxane!

ROXANE.

That he had a heart large and brave, too deep to be fathomed by the crowd?

CYRANO (_firmly_).

Yes, Roxane!

ROXANE (_throwing herself upon the body of Christian_).

And he is dead!

CYRANO (_aside, as he draws his sword_).

And I to-day can but die, since, though she knows it not, it is for me she is weeping over him!

(_Sound of trumpets in the distance._)

GUICHE (_reappearing on the embankment, hatless,
wounded in the forehead; with a voice of
thunder_).

It is the signal that was promised! the trumpets! our comrades come with help and food! Hold fast a few minutes!

ROXANE.

On his letter blood .... and tears!

A VOICE (_outside the embankment_).

Surrender!

THE CADETS.

No!

RAGUENEAU (_who has climbed upon the coach,
and is looking at the battle over the
embankment_).

We are lost!

CYRANO (_to Guiche, pointing to Roxane_).

Carry her off! I will charge!

ROXANE (_in dying tones, as she kisses the letter_).

His blood! His tears!....

RAGUENEAU (_jumping off the coach and running toward her_).

She is fainting!

GUICHE (_on the embankment, fiercely, to the Cadets_).

Steady, for your lives!

A VOICE (_outside_).

Lay down your arms!

THE CADETS.

Never!

CYRANO (_to Guiche_).

You have proved your valour, Sir! You can afford to fly (_pointing to Roxane_) and save her!

GUICHE (_runs to Roxane and takes her in his arms_).

So be it! Hold fast a few moments and we shall win the day!

CYRANO.

We'll hold to the death!

(_In a voice of anguish, looking toward Roxane, whom Guiche and
Ragueneau are carrying away senseless_).

Farewell, Roxane!

(_Tumult. Cries. Wounded Cadets reappear and fall within the
embankment. Cyrano, rushing to the fray, is stopped on the crest of
the embankment by Carbon of Haughty-Hall, covered with blood._)

CARBON.

We are wavering! I have received two gun shots.

CYRANO (_shouting to the Gascons_).

Steady there! Hold fast, you rascals!

(_to Carbon, holding him up_).

Have no fear! I have two deaths to avenge: Christian's and that of my happiness!

(_Both come down. Cyrano brandishes a lance to which is attached
the handkerchief of Roxane._)

Float bravely on, you little flag of lace that is hers! (_He plants the lance into the ground and cries to the Cadets_).

Fall upon them now! Crush them! (_to the fife player_) And you, strike up!

(_The fife plays. The wounded rise to their feet. The Cadets form a
group around Cyrano and the little flag; others climb into and upon
the coach, making it look like a small fortress._)

A CADET (_coming up from the outside of the
embankment, backward, still fighting_).

They come! they come!

(_Falls down dead._)

CYRANO.

We'll give them a salute!

(_The embankment is at once occupied by a troop of the enemy, with
large flags waving._)

Fire!

(_General discharge._)

ORDER (_from the enemy's ranks_).

Fire!

(_Most of the Cadets fall, either wounded or dead._)

A SPANISH OFFICER (_taking off his hat_).

Who are these people dying so bravely?

CYRANO (_erect and proudly reciting_).

Fair Gascony's cadets are they,
With Carbon,--He of Haughty-Hall;
They fight and lie without dismay,

(_He rushes on to enemy, followed by a few surviving Cadets._)

Fair Gascony's cadets....

(_The rest is lost in the noise of battle._)

_CURTAIN._

_ACT V._

CYRANO'S GAZETTE.

_Fifteen years later, in 1655. The garden of the Convent of the Ladies of the Cross, in Paris._

_Beautiful shade trees. To the left, the house. Wide porch on which several doors open. In the centre of the stage, an enormous overspreading tree standing alone in a sort of open circle. To the right, first entrance, backed by high box-wood bushes, a semi-circular stone bench._

_In the rear an avenue of chestnut trees leading up to fourth entrance, right, where the door of the Chapel can be seen through the branches. Beyond the avenue, lawns, other rows of trees, shrubbery and the sky._

_The Chapel has a small side door, from which starts, running down to the right, first entrance, behind the box-wood bushes, a sort of colonnade entwined with creepers rich in hues of gold and red._

_It is Autumn. The russet leaves of the trees are in bright contrast with the green lawns, except the box-wood and yew-trees that form dark spots here and there. Yellow leaves beneath the trees; fallen leaves everywhere on the ground, on the porch and on the benches._

_Between the stone bench to the right and the tree in the centre, a tapestry frame, and in front of it a chair. Baskets full of worsted skeins and balls. On the frame, a piece of tapestry-work, unfinished._

_As the curtain rises, sisters are going and coming through the garden; some are seated on the bench, on either side of an elderly sister. Leaves are falling._

_SCENE I._

MOTHER MARGARET, SISTER MARTHA, SISTER CLAIRE, _other_ SISTERS.

SISTER MARTHA (_to Mother Margaret_).

Sister Claire looked at herself twice in the mirror.

MOTHER MARGARET (_to Sister Claire_).

That was very wrong!

SISTER CLAIRE.

But Sister Martha pulled a plum out of the pie this morning; I saw her do it.

MOTHER MARGARET (_to Sister Martha_).

Very wrong, indeed, Sister Martha!

SISTER CLAIRE.

A little bit of a look!

SISTER MARTHA.

A little bit of a plum!

MOTHER MARGARET.

I'll have to tell Mr. Cyrano.

SISTER CLAIRE (_frightened_).

Oh! please, do not, he would tease us!....

SISTER MARTHA.

.... Say that we are vain!....

SISTER CLAIRE.

.... Or great gluttons!....

MOTHER MARGARET (_smiling_).

But full of goodness.

SISTER CLAIRE.

Is it not true, Mother, that he has been coming here, every Saturday, for the last ten years?

MOTHER MARGARET.

And more. Ever since his cousin, fourteen years ago, saddened the whiteness of our caps with the darkness of her widow's veil, as would a bird of sombre hue alighting 'mid a flight of brighter birds.

SISTER MARTHA.

And he alone can relieve with a ray of light the grief that she persists in feeding.

THE OTHER SISTERS.

He is so entertaining!--It is fun when he comes!--He teases us!--He is so kind!--We love him so!--And we make sweets for him!

SISTER MARTHA.

But he is not a very good Catholic!

SISTER CLAIRE.

We'll convert him!

THE OTHER SISTERS.

Assuredly, we will!

MOTHER MARGARET.

I forbid your tormenting him on that score, children. He might come here less often?

SISTER MARTHA.

But.... dear Mother.... God....

MOTHER MARGARET.

Have no fear.... God knows him!

SISTER MARTHA.

But, every Saturday, as he enters, he says proudly: "Sister, like a bad Catholic, I ate meat yesterday!"

MOTHER MARGARET.

Is that what he says? Well, the last time he came he had eaten nothing whatever for two days.

SISTER MARTHA.

Mother!

MOTHER MARGARET.

He is very poor. Mr. Le Bret told me so.

SISTER MARTHA.

And no one assists him!

MOTHER MARGARET.

He is proud and would not accept assistance.

(_Roxane is seen in the rear; she is in black, wearing the long
veil of a widow. Guiche, grown older, but magnificently clad,
accompanies her. They walk slowly, Mother Margaret rises._)

Come, it is time to get in.--Here is Madam Madeleine, with a visitor.

SISTER MARTHA (_aside to Sister Claire_).

It is the Marshall--Duke de Grammont.

SISTER CLAIRE.

Yes, I think it is.

SISTER MARTHA.

He has not come to see her for months!

SISTER CLAIRE.

The court--the army--the world--keep him away, I suppose.

(_Exeunt Sisters. Guiche and Roxane come down in silence, and stop
near the tapestry frame. A pause._)

_SCENE II._

ROXANE, DUKE DE GRAMMONT (_formerly Count de Guiche_);
_later_ LE BRET _and_ RAGUENEAU.

DUKE.

And so you persist in remaining in this seclusion, uselessly lovely, forever in mourning?

ROXANE.

Forever!

DUKE.

Ever true to his memory?

ROXANE.

Ever!

DUKE.

You have forgiven me?

ROXANE.

Yes! Since I am here.

(_A pause._)

DUKE.

And he was truly so?....

ROXANE.

You never really knew him!

DUKE.

Probably!.... And his last letter lies on your heart always?

ROXANE.

Like a blessèd talisman it hangs on this ribbon.

DUKE.

You love him even dead?

ROXANE.

At times it seems as if he'd left me not,
As if our hearts still beat as one, as if
His love still coiled around me, strong, alive!

(_Another pause._)

DUKE.

Does Cyrano ever come to see you?

ROXANE.

Yes, often. He is a very dear old friend, and he brings me all the news. He comes regularly, every Saturday. As the hour strikes, while I am at work on my tapestry, I know, without even turning around to see, that he is here, for I can hear his stick on the stone steps. If the weather is fine, he sits under this tree, where his chair awaits him. He laughs at what he calls my eternal work, relates to me the events of the week, and....

(_Le Bret appears on the porch._)

Why! here is Le Bret!

(_to Le Bret, who has come down_).

And how is our friend?

LE BRET.

Not at all well.

DUKE.

Oh! I'm sorry.

ROXANE (_to Duke_).

Le Bret exaggerates!

LE BRET.

All as I predicted: desertion and poverty!.... His epistles have made him new enemies! He denounces mock nobility, mock piety, mock bravery, plagiarism,--in fact everybody!

ROXANE.

But the fear of his wonderful sword holds them all in respect. They'll never reach him.

DUKE (_shaking his head_).

Who knows?

LE BRET.

What I fear for him is not an assault; it is solitude, hunger, winter stealthily entering his poor abode. These are the enemies that may lay him low.--Each morning he buckles his belt a little tighter. His nose has now the sallowness of old ivory. His wardrobe is reduced to one suit of black.

DUKE.

Ah! he at least is not a parvenu. So, do not pity him too much. He has lived free from obligations and humiliating restraint.

LE BRET (_smiling sadly_).

Duke, Duke!....

DUKE.

Yes, I know: I have everything, and he has nothing.... But I should very much like to shake his hand.

(_bowing to Roxane_). Farewell.

ROXANE.

I'll see you to the gate.

(_The Duke bows to Le Bret, and goes, with Roxane, towards the
house._)

DUKE (_stopping a moment_).

I envy him at times. You see, Roxane,
When we have had too much success in life,
Although we've done no very wicked act--
We feel within a thousand sickly stings
Of self-reproach; their total is too small
To constitute remorse, but large enough
To keep us in a dull uneasiness.
Thus ducal mantles sweep, as we ascend
The steps of greatness, with their fringe of furs
A rustling heap of withered sentiments,
As now your sombre train, upon the porch,
Draws in its folds a bunch of autumn leaves.

ROXANE (_ironically_).

You are in a very sentimental mood.

THE DUKE.

Alas! yes.

(_as he is about to go out, abruptly_).

Monsieur Le Bret!

(_to Roxane_).

By your permission, one word.

(_to Le Bret in a low tone_).

It is true; no one would
dare to attack your friend. But there are many who hate
him, and somebody said to me, yesterday, at the Queen's
reception: "This Cyrano is not unlikely to meet some day
with an accident." Tell him not to be about too much.
To be prudent.

LE BRET (_throwing up his arms_).

Prudent, he! But he is coming here to-day, and I must warn him, though I doubt if that will do much good.

ROXANE (_who has remained on the porch, to a
sister coming up to her_).

What is it?

THE SISTER.

Ragueneau wishes to see you, Madam.

ROXANE.

Let him in.

(_Exit Sister._) (_to Duke and to Le Bret_).

He comes to tell his woes.
He started to be an author, but became in turn a chanter....

LE BRET.

A bath-keeper....

ROXANE.

An actor....

LE BRET.

A beadle....

ROXANE.

A barber....

LE BRET.

An archlute-teacher....

ROXANE.

To-day what can he have become?

RAGUENEAU (_entering rapidly_).

Oh! Madam!

(_noticing Le Bret_). Oh! Sir!

ROXANE (_smiling_).

Tell your misfortunes to Le Bret. I shall be back presently.

(_Exit Roxane, with the Duke, without listening to Ragueneau, who
comes down toward Le Bret._)

_SCENE III._

LE BRET, RAGUENEAU.

RAGUENEAU.