Cyrano de Bergerac (English translation) | Page 8

me!
CYRANO (very politely): If that Muse, Sir, who knows you not at all, Could claim acquaintance with you--oh, believe (Seeing how urn-like, fat, and slow you are) That she would make you taste her buskin's sole!
THE PIT: Montfleury! Montfleury! Come--Baro's play!
CYRANO (to those who are calling out): I pray you have a care! If you go on My scabbard soon will render up its blade!
(The circle round him widens.)
THE CROWD (drawing back): Take care!
CYRANO (to Montfleury): Leave the stage!
THE CROWD (coming near and grumbling): Oh!--
CYRANO: Did some one speak?
(They draw back again.)
A VOICE (singing at the back): Monsieur de Cyrano Displays his tyrannies: A fig for tyrants! What, ho! Come! Play us 'La Clorise!'
ALL THE PIT (singing): 'La Clorise!' 'La Clorise!'. . .
CYRANO: Let me but hear once more that foolish rhyme, I slaughter every man of you.
A BURGHER: Oh! Samson?
CYRANO: Yes Samson! Will you lend your jawbone, Sir?
A LADY (in the boxes): Outrageous!
A LORD: Scandalous!
A BURGHER: 'Tis most annoying!
A PAGE: Fair good sport!
THE PIT: Kss!--Montfleury. . .Cyrano!
CYRANO: Silence!
THE PIT (wildly excited): Ho-o-o-o-h! Quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo!
CYRANO: I order--
A PAGE: Miow!
CYRANO: I order silence, all! And challenge the whole pit collectively!-- I write your names!--Approach, young heroes, here! Each in his turn! I cry the numbers out!-- Now which of you will come to ope the lists? You, Sir? No! You? No! The first duellist Shall be dispatched by me with honors due! Let all who long for death hold up their hands! (A silence): Modest? You fear to see my naked blade? Not one name?--Not one hand?--Good, I proceed! (Turning toward the stage, where Montfleury waits in an agony): The theater's too full, congested,--I Would clear it out. . .If not. . . (Puts his hand on his sword): The knife must act!
MONTFLEURY: I. . .
CYRANO (leaves his chair, and settles himself in the middle of the circle which has formed): I will clap my hands thrice, thus--full moon! At the third clap, eclipse yourself!
THE PIT (amused): Ah!
CYRANO (clapping his hands): One!
MONTFLEURY: I. . .
A VOICE (in the boxes): Stay!
THE PIT: He stays. . .he goes. . .he stays. . .
MONTFLEURY: I think. . .Gentlemen,. . .
CYRANO: Two!
MONTFLEURY: I think 'twere wisest. . .
CYRANO: Three!
(Montfleury disappears as through a trap. Tempest of laughs, whistling cries, etc.)
THE WHOLE HOUSE: Coward. . .come back!
CYRANO (delighted, sits back in his chair, arms crossed): Come back an if you dare!
A BURGHER: Call for the orator!
(Bellerose comes forward and bows.)
THE BOXES: Ah! here's Bellerose!
BELLEROSE (elegantly): My noble lords. . .
THE PIT: No! no! Jodelet!
JODELET (advancing, speaking through his nose): Calves!
THE PIT: Ah! bravo! good! go on!
JODELET: No bravos, Sirs! The fat tragedian whom you all love Felt. . .
THE PIT: Coward!
JODELET: . . .was obliged to go.
THE PIT: Come back!
SOME: No!
OTHERS: Yes!
A YOUNG MAN (to Cyrano): But pray, Sir, for what reason, say, Hate you Montfleury?
CYRANO (graciously, still seated): Youthful gander, know I have two reasons--either will suffice. Primo. An actor villainous! who mouths, And heaves up like a bucket from a well The verses that should, bird-like, fly! Secundo-- That is my secret. . .
THE OLD BURGHER (behind him): Shameful! You deprive us Of the 'Clorise!' I must insist. . .
CYRANO (turning his chair toward the burgher, respectfully): Old mule! The verses of old Baro are not worth A doit! I'm glad to interrupt. . .
THE PRECIEUSES (in the boxes): Our Baro!-- My dear! How dares he venture!. . .
CYRANO (turning his chair toward the boxes gallantly): Fairest ones, Radiate, bloom, hold to our lips the cup Of dreams intoxicating, Hebe-like! Or, when death strikes, charm death with your sweet smiles; Inspire our verse, but--criticise it not!
BELLEROSE: We must give back the entrance fees!
CYRANO (turning his chair toward the stage): Bellerose, You make the first intelligent remark! Would I rend Thespis' sacred mantle? Nay! (He rises and throws a bag on the stage): Catch then the purse I throw, and hold your peace!
THE HOUSE (dazzled): Ah! Oh!
JODELET (catching the purse dexterously and weighing it): At this price, you've authority To come each night, and stop 'Clorise,' Sir!
THE PIT: Ho!. . .Ho! Ho!. . .
JODELET: E'en if you chase us in a pack!. . .
BELLEROSE: Clear out the hall!. . .
JODELET: Get you all gone at once!
(The people begin to go out, while Cyrano looks on with satisfaction. But the crowd soon stop on hearing the following scene, and remain where they are. The women, who, with their mantles on, are already standing up in the boxes, stop to listen, and finally reseat themselves.)
LE BRET (to Cyrano): 'Tis mad!. . .
A BORE (coming up to Cyrano): The actor Montfleury! 'Tis shameful! Why, he's protected by the Duke of Candal! Have you a patron?
CYRANO: No!
THE BORE: No patron?. . .
CYRANO: None!
THE BORE: What! no great lord to shield you with his name?
CYRANO (irritated): No, I have told