Cyrano de Bergerac

Full Text

Scene 4.VII.

Full Text Scene 4.VII.

Scene 4.VII.

The same. De Guiche.

DE GUICHE:
It smells good here.

A CADET (humming):
Lo! Lo-lo!

DE GUICHE (looking at him):
What is the matter?--You are very red.

THE CADET:
The matter?--Nothing!--'Tis my blood--boiling at the thought of the coming
battle!

ANOTHER:
Poum, poum--poum. . .

DE GUICHE (turning round):
What's that?

THE CADET (slightly drunk):
Nothing!. . .'Tis a song!--a little. . .

DE GUICHE:
You are merry, my friend!

THE CADET:
The approach of danger is intoxicating!

DE GUICHE (calling Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, to give him an order):
Captain! I. . .
(He stops short on seeing him):
Plague take me! but you look bravely, too!

CARBON (crimson in the face, hiding a bottle behind his back, with an evasive movement):
Oh!. . .

DE GUICHE:
I have one cannon left, and have had it carried there--
(he points behind the scenes):
--in that corner. . .Your men can use it in case of need.

A CADET (reeling slightly):
Charming attention!

ANOTHER (with a gracious smile):
Kind solicitude!

DE GUICHE:
How? they are all gone crazy?
(Drily):
As you are not used to cannon, beware of the recoil.

FIRST CADET:
Pooh!

DE GUICHE (furious, going up to him):
But. . .

THE CADET:
Gascon cannons never recoil!

DE GUICHE (taking him by the arm and shaking him):
You are tipsy!--but what with?

THE CADET (grandiloquently):
--With the smell of powder!

DE GUICHE (shrugging his shoulders and pushing him away, then going quickly to Roxane):
Briefly, Madame, what decision do you deign to take?

ROXANE:
I stay here.

DE GUICHE:
You must fly!

ROXANE:
No! I will stay.

DE GUICHE:
Since things are thus, give me a musket, one of you!

CARBON:
Wherefore?

DE GUICHE:
Because I too--mean to remain.

CYRANO:
At last! This is true valor, Sir!

FIRST CADET:
Then you are Gascon after all, spite of your lace collar?

ROXANE:
What is all this?

DE GUICHE:
I leave no woman in peril.

SECOND CADET (to the first):
Hark you! Think you not we might give him something to eat?

(All the viands reappear as if by magic.)

DE GUICHE (whose eyes sparkle):
Victuals!

THE THIRD CADET:
Yes, you'll see them coming from under every coat!

DE GUICHE (controlling himself, haughtily):
Do you think I will eat your leavings?

CYRANO (saluting him):
You make progress.

DE GUICHE (proudly, with a light touch of accent on the word 'breaking'):
I will fight without br-r-eaking my fast!

FIRST CADET (with wild delight):
Br-r-r-eaking! He has got the accent!

DE GUICHE (laughing):
I?

THE CADET:
'Tis a Gascon!

(All begin to dance.)

CARBON DE CASTEL-JALOUX (who had disappeared behind the rampart, reappearing on the ridge):
I have drawn my pikemen up in line. They are a resolute troop.

(He points to a row of pikes, the tops of which are seen over the ridge.)

DE GUICHE (bowing to Roxane):
Will you accept my hand, and accompany me while I review them?

(She takes it, and they go up toward the rampart. All uncover and follow them.)

CHRISTIAN (going to Cyrano, eagerly):
Tell me quickly!

(As Roxane appears on the ridge, the tops of the lances disappear, lowered for the salute, and a shout is raised. She bows.)

THE PIKEMEN (outside):
Vivat!

CHRISTIAN:
What is this secret?

CYRANO:
If Roxane should. . .

CHRISTIAN:
Should?. . .

CYRANO:
Speak of the letters?. . .

CHRISTIAN:
Yes, I know!. . .

CYRANO:
Do not spoil all by seeming surprised. . .

CHRISTIAN:
At what?

CYRANO:
I must explain to you!. . .Oh! 'tis no great matter--I but thought of it to-
day on seeing her. You have. . .

CHRISTIAN:
Tell quickly!

CYRANO:
You have. . .written to her oftener than you think. . .

CHRISTIAN:
How so?

CYRANO:
Thus, 'faith! I had taken it in hand to express your flame for you!. . .At
times I wrote without saying, 'I am writing!'

CHRISTIAN:
Ah!. . .

CYRANO:
'Tis simple enough!

CHRISTIAN:
But how did you contrive, since we have been cut off, thus. . .to?. . .

CYRANO:
. . .Oh! before dawn. . .I was able to get through. . .

CHRISTIAN (folding his arms):
That was simple, too? And how oft, pray you, have I written?. . .Twice in
the week?. . .Three times?. . .Four?. . .

CYRANO:
More often still.

CHRISTIAN:
What! Every day?

CYRANO:
Yes, every day,--twice.

CHRISTIAN (violently):
And that became so mad a joy for you, that you braved death. . .

CYRANO (seeing Roxane returning):
Hush! Not before her!

(He goes hurriedly into his tent.)