DE GUICHE I am going upon the stage. Are you coming? [He walks toward the stage, followed by all the marquises and men of quality. He turns and calls.] Valvert, come!
CHRISTIAN [who has been listening and watching them, starts on hearing that name] The vicomte! ... Ah, in his face... in his face I will fling my ... [He puts his hand to his pocket and finds the pickpocket’s hand. He turns.] Hein?
PICKPOCKET Ai!
CHRISTIAN [without letting him go] I was looking for a glove.
PICKPOCKET [with an abject smile] And you found a hand. [In a different tone, low and rapid.] Let me go ... I will tell you a secret.
CHRISTIAN [without releasing him] Well?
PICKPOCKET Lignière who has just left you ...
CHRISTIAN [as above] Yes? ...
PICKPOCKET Has not an hour to live. A song he made annoyed one of the great, and a hundred men—I am one of them—will be posted to-night...
CHRISTIAN A hundred? ... By whom?
PICKPOCKET Honor...
CHRISTIAN [shrugging his shoulders] Oh!...
PICKPOCKET [with great dignity] Among rogues!
CHRISTIAN Where will they be posted?
PICKPOCKET At the Porte de Nesle, on his way home. Inform him.
CHRISTIAN [letting him go] But where can I find him?
PICKPOCKET Go to all the taverns: the Golden Vat, the PineApple, the Belt and Bosom, the Twin Torches, the Three Funnels, and in each one leave a scrap of writing warning him.
CHRISTIAN Yes. I will run! ... Ah, the blackguards! A hundred against one! ... [Looks lovingly toward ROXANE.] Leave her! ... [Furiously, looking toward VALVERT. ] And him! ... But Lignière must be prevented. [Exit running.] [DE GUICHE, the MARQUISES, all the gentry have disappeared behind the curtain, to place themselves on the stage-seats. The pit is crowded. There is not an empty seat in the boxes or the gallery.]
THE AUDIENCE Begin!
A BURGHER [whose wig goes sailing off at the end of a string held by one of the pages in the upper gallery] My wig!
SCREAMS OF DELIGHT He is bald! ... The pages! ... Well done!... Ha, ha, ha!
THE BURGHER [furious, shaking his fist] Imp of Satan! ... [Laughter and screams, beginning very loud and decreasing suddenly. Dead silence.]
LE BRET [astonished] This sudden hush? ... [One of the spectators whispers in his ear.] Ah?
THE SPECTATOR I have it from a reliable quarter.
RUNNING MURMURS Hush!... Has he come? No! ... Yes, he has! ... In the box with the grating.... The cardinal! ... the cardinal! ... the cardinal! ...16
ONE OF THE PAGES What a shame! ... Now we shall have to behave! [Knocking on the stage. Complete stillness. Pause.]
VOICE OF ONE OF THE MARQUISES [breaking the deep silence, behind the curtain.] Snuff that candle!
OTHER MARQUIS [thrusting his head out between the curtains.] A chair! [A chair is passed from hand to hand, above the heads. The marquis takes it and disappears, after kissing his hand repeatedly toward the boxes. ]
A SPECTATOR Silence! [Once more, the three knocks. The curtain opens. Tableau. The marquises seated at the sides, 17 in attitudes of languid haughtiness. The stage-setting is the faint-colored blueish sort usual in a pastoral. Four small crystal candelabra light the stage. The violins play softly.]
LE BRET [to RAGUENEAU, under breath] Is Montfleury the first to appear?
RAGUENEAU [likewise under breath] Yes. The opening lines are his. LE BRET Cyrano is not here.
RAGUENEAU I have lost my wager.
LE BRET Let us be thankful. Let us be thankful. [A bagpipe is heard. MONTFLEURY appears upon the stage, enormous, in a conventional shepherd’s costume, with a rose-wreathed hat set jauntily on the side of his head, breathing into a be-ribboned bag pipe.]
THE PIT [applauding] Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury!
MONTFLEURY [after bowing, proceeds to play the part of PHŒDO]
Happy the man who, freed from Fashion’s fickle sway,
In exile self-prescribed whiles peaceful hours away;
Who when Zephyrus sighs amid the answering trees....
A VOICE [from the middle of the pit] Rogue! Did I not forbid you for one month? [Consternation. Every one looks around. Murmurs.]
VARIOUS VOICES Hein? What? What is the matter?
[Many in the boxes rise to see]
CUIGY It is he!
LE BRET [alarmed] Cyrano!
THE VOICE King of the Obese! Incontinently vanish! ...
THE WHOLE AUDIENCE [indignant.] Oh!...
MONTFLEURY But ...
THE VOICE You stop to muse upon the matter?
SEVERAL VOICES [from the pit and the boxes.] Hush!...
Enough! ... Proceed, Montfleury ... Fear nothing!
MONTFLEURY [in an unsteady voice] Happy the man who freed from Fashion’s f—...
THE VOICE [more threatening than before] How is this? Shall I be constrained, Man of the Monster Belly, to enforce my regulation... regularly? [An arm holding a cane leaps above the level of the heads.]
MONTFLEURY [in a voice growing fainter and fainter] Happy the man... [The cane is wildly flourished.]
THE VOICE Leave the stage!
THE PIT Oh!...
MONTFLEURY [choking] Happy the man who freed...
CYRANO [appears above the audience, standing upon a chair, his arms folded on his chest, his hat at a combative angle, his moustache on end, his nose terrifying]
Ah! I shall lose my temper! [Sensation at sight of him]
SCENE IV
The same, with Cyrano, then Bellerose and Jodelet
MONTFLEURY [to the MARQUISES] Messieurs, I appeal to you!
ONE OF THE MARQUISES [languidly] But go ahead! ... Play!
CYRANO Fat man, if you attempt it, I will dust the paint off you with this!
THE MARQUIS Enough!
CYRANO Let every little lordling keep silence in his seat, or I will ruffle his ribbons with my cane!
ALL THE MARQUISES [rising] This is too much! ... Montfleury....
CYRANO Let Montfleury go home, or stay, and, having cut his ears off, I will disembowel him!
A VOICE But...
CYRANO Let him go home, I said!
OTHER VOICE But after all ...
CYRANO It is not yet done? [With show of turning up his sleeves.] Very well, upon that stage, as on a platter trimmed with green, you shall see me carve that mount of brawn....
MONTFLEURY [calling up his whole dignity] Monsieur, you cast indignity, in my person, upon the Muse!
CYRANO [very civilly] Monsieur, if that lady, with whom you have naught to do, had the pleasure of beholding you... just as you stand, there, like a decorated pot! ... she could not live, I do protest, but she hurled her buskin at you!
THE PIT Montfleury!... Montfleury! ... Give us Baro’s piece!
CYRANO [to those shouting around him] I beg you will show some regard for my scabbard: it is ready to give up the sword! [The space around him widens.]
THE CROWD [backing away] Hey... softly, there!
CYRANO [to MONTFLEURY] Go off!
THE CROWD [closing again, and grumbling] Oh! ... Oh!
CYRANO [turning suddenly] Has somebody objections? [The crowd again pushes away from him.]
A VOICE [at the back, singing.]
Monsieur de Cyrano, one sees,
Inclines to be tyrannical;
In spite of that tyrannicle
We shall see La Clorise!
THE WHOLE AUDIENCE [catching up the tune] La Clorise! La Clorise!
CYRANO Let me hear that song again, and I will do you all to death with my stick!
A BURGHER Samson come back! ...
CYRANO Lend me your jaw, good man!
A LADY [in one of the boxes] This is unheard of!
A MAN It is scandalous!
A BURGHER It is irritating, to say no more.
A PAGE What fun it is!
THE PIT Ksss! ... Montfleury! ... Cyrano! ...
CYRANO Be still! ...
THE PIT [in
uproar] Hee-haw! ... Baaaaah! ... Bow- wow! ... Cockadoodledoooooo!
CYRANO I will ...
A PAGE Meeeow!
CYRANO I order you to hold your tongues! ... I dare the floor collectively to utter another sound! ... I challenge you, one and all! ... I will take down your names ... Step forward, budding heroes! Each in his turn. You shall be given numbers. Come, which one of you will open the joust with me? You, monsieur? No! You? No! The first that offers is promised all the mortuary honors due the brave. Let all who wish to die hold up their hands! [Silence.] It is modesty that makes you shrink from the sight of my naked sword? Not a name? Not a hand?—Very good. Then I proceed. [Turning toward the stage where MONTFLEURY is waiting in terror] As I was saying, it is my wish to see the stage cured of this tumor. Otherwise ... [Claps hand to his sword.] the lancet!
MONTFLEURY I...
CYRANO [gets down from his chair, and sits in the space that has become vacant around him, with the ease of one at home] Thrice will I clap my . hands, O plenilune!18 At the third clap ... eclipse!
THE PIT [diverted] Ah! ...
CYRANO [clapping his hands] One! ...
MONTFLEURY I...
A VOICE [from one of the boxes] Do not go! ...
THE PIT He will stay! ... He will go! ...
MONTFLEURY Messieurs, I feel ...
CYRANO Two! ...
MONTFLEURY I feel it will perhaps be wiser ...
CYRANO Three! ...
[MONTFLEURY disappears, as if through a trap-door. Storm of laughter, hissing, catcalls.]
THE HOUSE Hoo! ... Hoo! ... Milk-sop! : .. Come back! ... CYRANO [beaming, leans back in his chair and crosses his legs] Let him come back, if he dare!
A BURGHER The spokesman of the company!
[BELLEROSE comes forward on the stage and bows]
THE BOXES Ah, there comes Bellerose!
BELLEROSE [with elegant bearing and diction] Noble ladies and gentlemen ...
THE PIT No! No! Jodelet! ... We want Jodelet! ...
JODELET [comes forward, speaks through his nose] Pack of swine! THE PIT That is right! ... Well said! ... Bravo!
JODELET Don’t bravo me! ... The portly tragedian, whose paunch is your delight, felt sick! ...
THE PIT He is a poltroon! ...
JODELET He was obliged to leave ...
THE PIT Let him come back!
SOME No!
OTHERS Yes! ...
AYOUTH [to CYRANO] But, when all is said, monsieur, what good grounds have you for hating Montfleury?
CYRANO [amiably, sitting as before] Young gosling, I have two, whereof each, singly, would be ample. Primo: He is an execrable actor, who bellows, and with grunts that would disgrace a water-carrier launches the verse that should go forth as if on pinions ! ... Secundo: is my secret.
THE OLD BURGHER [behind CYRANO] But without compunction you deprive us of hearing La Clorise. I am determined ...
CYRANO [turning his chair around so as to face the old gentleman; respectfully] Venerable mule, old Baro’s verses being what they are, I do it without compunction, as you say.
THE PRECIEUSES [in the boxes] Ha! ... Ho! ... Our own
Baro! ... My dear, did you hear that? How can such a thing be said? ... Ha! ... Ho! ...
CYRANO [turning his chair so as to face the boxes; gallantly] Beautiful creatures, do you bloom and shine, be ministers of dreams, your smiles our anodyne. Inspire poets, but poems ... spare to judge!
BELLEROSE But the money which must be given back at the door!
CYRANO [turning his chair to face the stage] Bellerose, you have said the only intelligent thing that has, as yet, been said! Far from me to wrong by so much as a fringe the worshipful mantle of Thespis.... [He rises and flings a bag upon the stage.] Catch! ... and keep quiet!
THE HOUSE [dazzled] Ah! ... Oh! ...
JODELET [nimbly picking up the bag, weighing it with his hand] For such a price, you are authorized, monsieur, to come and stop the performance every day!
THE HOUSE Hoo! ... Hoo! ...
JODELET Should we be hooted in a body! ...
BELLEROSE The house must be evacuated!
JODELET Evacuate it!
[The audience begins to leave; CYRANO looking on with a satisfied air. The crowd, however, becoming interested in the following scene, the exodus is suspended. The women in the boxes who were already standing and had put on their wraps, stop to listen and end by resuming their seats.]
LE BRET [to CYRANO] What you have done ... is mad!
A BORE Montfleury! ... the eminent actor! ... What a scandal ! ... But the Duc de Candale is his patron! ... Have you a patron, you?
CYRANO No!
THE BORE You have not.
CYRANO No!
THE BORE What?You are not protected by some great nobleman under the cover of whose name....
CYRANO [exasperated] No, I have told you twice. Must I say the same thing thrice? No, I have no protector ... [hand on sword] but this will do.
THE BORE Then, of course, you will leave town.
CYRANO That will depend.
THE BORE But the Duc de Candale has a long arm ...
CYRANO Not so long as mine ... [pointing to his sword] pieced out with this!
THE BORE But you cannot have the presumption ...
CYRANO I can, yes.
THE BORE But ...
CYRANO And now ... face about!
THE BORE But ...
CYRANO Face about, I say ... or else, tell me why you are looking at my nose.
THE BORE [bewildered] I ...
CYRANO [advancing upon him] In what is it unusual?
THE BORE [backing] Your worship is mistaken.
CYRANO [same business as above] Is it flabby and pendulous, like a proboscis?
THE BORE I never said ...
CYRANO Or hooked like a hawk’s beak?
THE BORE I...
CYRANO Do you discern a mole upon the tip?
THE BORE But ...
CYRANO Or is a fly disporting himself thereon? What is there wonderful about it?
THE BORE Oh ...
CYRANO Is it a freak of nature?
THE BORE But I had refrained from casting so much as a glance at it!
CYRANO And why, I pray, should you not look at it?
THE BORE I had ...
CYRANO So it disgusts you?
THE BORE Sir ...
CYRANO Its color strikes you as unwholesome?
THE BORE Sir ...
CYRANO Its shape, unfortunate?
THE BORE But far from it!
CYRANO Then wherefore that depreciating air? ... Perhaps monsieur thinks it a shade too large?
THE BORE Indeed not. No, indeed. I think it small ... small,—I should have said, minute!
CYRANO What? How? Charge me with such a ridiculous defect? Small, my nose? Ho! ...
THE BORE Heavens!
CYRANO Enormous, my nose! ... Contemptible stutterer, snub-nosed and flat-headed, be it known to you that I am proud, proud of such an appendage! inasmuch as a great nose is properly the index of an affable, kindly, courteous man, witty, liberal, brave, such as I am! and such as you are for evermore precluded from supposing yourself, deplorable rogue! For the inglorious surface my hand encounters above your ruff, is no less devoid—[Strikes him]
THE BORE Aï! aï! ...
CYRANO Of pride, alacrity and sweep, of perception and of gift, of heavenly spark, of sumptuousness, to sum up all, of NOSE, than that [turns him around by the shoulders and suits the action to the word], which stops my boot below your spine!
THE BORE [running off] Help! The watch! ...19
CYRANO Warning to the idle who might find entertainment in my organ of smell.... And if the facetious fellow be of birth, my custom is, before I let him go, to chasten him, in front, and higher up, with steel, and not with hide!
DE GUICHE [who has stepped down from the stage with the marquises] He is becoming tiresome!
VALVERT [shrugging his shoulders] It is empty bluster!
DE GUICHE Will no one take him up?
VALVERT No one? ... Wait! I will have one of those shots at him! [He approaches CYRANO who is watching him, and stops in front of him, in an attitude of silly swagger.] Your ... your nose is ... errr ... Your nose ... is very large!
CYRANO [gravely] Very.
VALVERT [laughs] Ha! ...
CYRANO [imperturbable] Is that all?
VALVERT But ...
CYRANO Ah, no, young man, that is not enough! You might have said, dear me, there are a thousand things ... varying the tone ... For instance ... here you are:—Aggressive: “I, monsieur, if I had such a nose, nothing would serve but I must cut it off! Amicable: ”It must be in your way while drinking; you ought to have a special beaker made!“ Descriptive: ”It is a crag! ... a peak! ... a promontory! ... A promontory, did I say? ... It is a peninsula!” Inquisitive: ”What may the office be of that oblong receptacle ? Is it an inkhorn or a scissor-case?” Mincing: ”Do you so dote on birds, you have, fond as a father, been at pains to fit the little darlings with a roost?” Blunt: ”Tell me, monsieur, you, when you smoke, is it possible you blow the vapor through your nose without a neighbor crying “The chimney is afire?” Anxious: “Go with caution, I beseech, lest your head, dragged over by that weight, should drag you over!” Tender: “Have a little sun-shade made for it! It might get freckled!” Learned: “None but the beast, monsieur, mentioned by Aristophanes, the hippocampelephantocamelos, can have borne beneath his forehead so much cartilage and bone!” Off-hand: “What, comrade, is that sort of peg in style? Capital to hang one’s hat upon!” Emphatic: “No wind can hope, O lordly nose, to give the whole of you a cold, but the Nor-Wester!” Dramatic: “It is the Red Sea when it bleeds!” Admiring: “What a sign for a perfumer’s shop!” Lyrical: “Art thou a Triton, and is that thy conch?” Simple: “A monument! When is admission free?” Deferent : “Suffer, monsieur, that I should pay you my respects: that is what I call possessing a house of your own!” Rustic: “Hi, boys! Call that a nose? Ye don’t gull me! It’s either a prize carrot or else a stunted gourd!” Military: “Level against the cavalry!” Practical: “Will you put it up for raffle? Indubitably, sir, it will be the feature of the game!”And finally in parody of weeping Pyramus: “Behold, behold the nose that traitorously destroyed the beauty of its master! and is blushing for the same!”—That, my dear sir, or something not unlike, is what you would have said to me, had you the smallest leaven of letters or of wit; but of wit, O most pitiable of objects made by God, you never had a rudiment, and of letters, you have just those that are needed to spell “fool!”—But, had it been otherwise, and had you been possessed of the fertile fancy requisite to shower upon me, here, in this noble company, that volley of sprightly pleasantries, still should you not have delivered yourself of so much as a quarter of the tenth part of the beginning of the first.... For I let off these good things at myself, and with sufficient zest, but do not suffer another to let them off at me! DE GUICHE [attempting to lead away the amazed vicomte] Let be, vicomte!