Cyrano de Bergerac (English translation) | Page 6

'Tis strange.
LIGNIERE: Why so?
RAGUENEAU: Montfleury plays!
LIGNIERE: Ay, 'tis true that that old wine-barrel is to take Phedon's
part to-night; but what matter is that to Cyrano?
RAGUENEAU: How? Know you not? He has got a hot hate for
Montfleury, and so!--has forbid him strictly to show his face on the
stage for one whole month.
LIGNIERE (drinking his fourth glass): Well?
RAGUENEAU: Montfleury will play!
CUIGY: He can not hinder that.
RAGUENEAU: Oh! oh! that I have come to see!
FIRST MARQUIS: Who is this Cyrano?
CUIGY: A fellow well skilled in all tricks of fence.
SECOND MARQUIS: Is he of noble birth?
CUIGY: Ay, noble enough. He is a cadet in the Guards. (Pointing to a
gentleman who is going up and down the hall as if searching for some
one): But 'tis his friend Le Bret, yonder, who can best tell you. (He
calls him): Le Bret! (Le Bret comes towards them): Seek you for De
Bergerac?
LE BRET: Ay, I am uneasy. . .
CUIGY: Is it not true that he is the strangest of men?

LE BRET (tenderly): True, that he is the choicest of earthly beings!
RAGUENEAU: Poet!
CUIGY: Soldier!
BRISSAILLE: Philosopher!
LE BRET: Musician!
LIGNIERE: And of how fantastic a presence!
RAGENEAU: Marry, 'twould puzzle even our grim painter Philippe de
Champaigne to portray him! Methinks, whimsical, wild, comical as he
is, only Jacques Callot, now dead and gone, had succeeded better, and
had made of him the maddest fighter of all his visored crew--with his
triple-plumed beaver and six-pointed doublet--the sword-point sticking
up 'neath his mantle like an insolent cocktail! He's prouder than all the
fierce Artabans of whom Gascony has ever been and will ever be the
prolific Alma Mater! Above his Toby ruff he carries a nose!--ah, good
my lords, what a nose is his! When one sees it one is fain to cry aloud,
'Nay! 'tis too much! He plays a joke on us!' Then one laughs, says 'He
will anon take it off.' But no!--Monsieur de Bergerac always keeps it
on.
LE BRET (throwing back his head): He keeps it on--and cleaves in two
any man who dares remark on it!
RAGUENEAU (proudly): His sword--'tis one half of the Fates' shears!
FIRST MARQUIS (shrugging his shoulders): He will not come!
RAGUENEAU: I say he will! and I wager a fowl--a la Ragueneau.
THE MARQUIS (laughing): Good!
(Murmurs of admiration in hall. Roxane has just appeared in her box.
She seats herself in front, the duenna at the back. Christian, who is
paying the buffet-girl, does not see her entrance.)
SECOND MARQUIS (with little cries of joy): Ah, gentlemen! she is
fearfully--terribly--ravishing!
FIRST MARQUIS: When one looks at her one thinks of a peach
smiling at a strawberry!
SECOND MARQUIS: And what freshness! A man approaching her
too near might chance to get a bad chill at the heart!
CHRISTIAN (raising his head, sees Roxane, and catches Ligniere by
the arm): 'Tis she!
LIGNIERE: Ah! is it she?
CHRISTIAN: Ay, tell me quick--I am afraid.

LIGNIERE (tasting his rivesalte in sips): Magdaleine Robin--Roxane,
so called! A subtle wit--a precieuse.
CHRISTIAN: Woe is me!
LIGNIERE: Free. An orphan. The cousin of Cyrano, of whom we were
now speaking.
(At this moment an elegant nobleman, with blue ribbon across his
breast, enters the box, and talks with Roxane, standing.)
CHRISTIAN (starting): Who is yonder man?
LIGNIERE (who is becoming tipsy, winking at him): Ha! ha! Count de
Guiche. Enamored of her. But wedded to the niece of Armand de
Richelieu. Would fain marry Roxane to a certain sorry fellow, one
Monsieur de Valvert, a viscount--and--accommodating! She will none
of that bargain; but De Guiche is powerful, and can persecute the
daughter of a plain untitled gentleman. More by token, I myself have
exposed this cunning plan of his to the world, in a song which. . .Ho!
he must rage at me! The end hit home. . .Listen!
(He gets up staggering, and raises his glass, ready to sing.)
CHRISTIAN: No. Good-night.
LIGNIERE: Where go you?
CHRISTIAN: To Monsieur de Valvert!
LIGNIERE: Have a care! It is he who will kill you (showing him
Roxane by a look): Stay where you are--she is looking at you.
CHRISTIAN: It is true!
(He stands looking at her. The group of pickpockets seeing him thus,
head in air and open-mouthed, draw near to him.)
LIGNIERE: 'Tis I who am going. I am athirst! And they expect me--in
the taverns!
(He goes out, reeling.)
LE BRET (who has been all round the hall, coming back to Ragueneau
reassured): No sign of Cyrano.
RAGUENEAU (incredulously): All the same. . .
LE BRET: A hope is left to me--that he has not seen the playbill!
THE AUDIENCE: Begin, begin!

Scene 1.III.
The same, all but Ligniere.