READ STUDY GUIDE: Act II, scenes i–vi |
|
Act II, Scene vi
| Cyrano, Roxane. |
| CYRANO: |
 Blessed be the moment when you condescend— |
| Remembering that humbly I exist— |
| To come to meet me, and to say. . .to tell?. . . |
| ROXANE (who has unmasked): |
| To thank you first of all. That dandy count, |
| Whom you checkmated in brave sword-play |
| Last night,. . .he is the man whom a great lord, |
| Desirous of my favor. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| Ha, De Guiche? |
| ROXANE (casting down her eyes): |
| Sought to impose on me. . .for husband. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| Ay! Husband!—dupe-husband!. . .Husband a la mode! |
| (Bowing): |
| Then I fought, happy chance! sweet lady, not |
| For my ill favor—but your favors fair! |
| ROXANE: |
| Confession next!. . .But, ere I make my shrift, |
| You must be once again that brother-friend |
| With whom I used to play by the lake-side!. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| Ay, you would come each spring to Bergerac! |
| ROXANE: |
| Mind you the reeds you cut to make your swords?. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| While you wove corn-straw plaits for your dolls' hair! |
| ROXANE: |
| Those were the days of games!. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| And blackberries!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| In those days you did everything I bid!. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| Roxane, in her short frock, was Madeleine. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| Was I fair then? |
| CYRANO: |
| You were not ill to see! |
| ROXANE: |
| Ofttimes, with hands all bloody from a fall, |
| You'd run to me! Then—aping mother-ways— |
| I, in a voice would-be severe, would chide,— |
| (She takes his hand): |
| 'What is this scratch, again, that I see here?' |
| (She starts, surprised): |
| Oh! 'Tis too much! What's this? |
| (Cyrano tries to draw away his hand): |
| No, let me see! |
| At your age, fie! Where did you get that scratch? |
| CYRANO: |
| I got it—playing at the Porte de Nesle. |
| ROXANE (seating herself by the table, and dipping her handkerchief in a glass |
| of water): |
| Give here! |
| CYRANO (sitting by her): |
| So soft! so gay maternal-sweet! |
| ROXANE: |
| And tell me, while I wipe away the blood, |
| How many 'gainst you? |
| CYRANO: |
| Oh! A hundred—near. |
| ROXANE: |
| Come, tell me! |
| CYRANO: |
| No, let be. But you, come tell |
| The thing, just now, you dared not. . . |
| ROXANE (keeping his hand): |
| Now, I dare! |
| The scent of those old days emboldens me! |
| Yes, now I dare. Listen. I am in love. |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| But with one who knows not. |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| Not yet. |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| But who, if he knows not, soon shall learn. |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| A poor youth who all this time has loved |
| Timidly, from afar, and dares not speak. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| Leave your hand; why, it is fever-hot!— |
| But I have seen love trembling on his lips. |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE (bandaging his hand with her handkerchief): |
| And to think of it! that he by chance— |
| Yes, cousin, he is of your regiment! |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE (laughing): |
| —Is cadet in your own company! |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| On his brow he bears the genius-stamp; |
| He is proud, noble, young, intrepid, fair. . . |
| CYRANO (rising suddenly, very pale): |
| Fair! |
| ROXANE: |
| Why, what ails you? |
| CYRANO: |
| Nothing; 'tis. . . |
| (He shows his hand, smiling): |
| This scratch! |
| ROXANE: |
| I love him; all is said. But you must know |
| I have only seen him at the Comedy. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| How? You have never spoken? |
| ROXANE: |
| Eyes can speak. |
| CYRANO: |
| How know you then that he. . .? |
| ROXANE: |
| Oh! people talk |
| 'Neath the limes in the Place Royale. . . |
| Gossip's chat |
| Has let me know. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| He is cadet? |
| ROXANE: |
| In the Guards. |
| CYRANO: |
| His name? |
| ROXANE: |
| Baron Christian de Neuvillette. |
| CYRANO: |
| How now?. . .He is not of the Guards! |
| ROXANE: |
| To-day |
| He is not join your ranks, under Captain |
| Carbon de Castel-Jaloux. |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah, how quick, |
| How quick the heart has flown!. . .But, my poor child. . . |
| THE DUENNA (opening the door): |
| The cakes are eaten, Monsieur Bergerac! |
| CYRANO: |
| Then read the verses printed on the bags! |
| (She goes out): |
| . . .My poor child, you who love but flowing words, |
| Bright wit,—what if he be a lout unskilled? |
| ROXANE: |
| No, his bright locks, like D'Urfe's heroes. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| Ah! |
| A well-curled pate, and witless tongue, perchance! |
| ROXANE: |
| Ah no! I guess—I feel—his words are fair! |
| CYRANO: |
| All words are fair that lurk 'neath fair mustache! |
| —Suppose he were a fool!. . . |
| ROXANE (stamping her foot): |
| Then bury me! |
| CYRANO (after a pause): |
| Was it to tell me this you brought me here? |
| I fail to see what use this serves, Madame. |
| ROXANE: |
| Nay, but I felt a terror, here, in the heart, |
| On learning yesterday you were Gascons |
| All of your company. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| And we provoke |
| All beardless sprigs that favor dares admit |
| 'Midst us pure Gascons—(pure! Heaven save the mark! |
| They told you that as well? |
| ROXANE: |
| Ah! Think how I |
| Trembled for him! |
| CYRANO (between his teeth): |
| Not causelessly! |
| ROXANE: |
| But when |
| Last night I saw you,—brave, invincible,— |
| Punish that dandy, fearless hold your own |
| Against those brutes, I thought—I thought, if he |
| Whom all fear, all—if he would only. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| Good. |
| I will befriend your little Baron. |
| ROXANE: |
| Ah! |
| You'll promise me you will do this for me? |
| I've always held you as a tender friend. |
| CYRANO: |
| Ay, ay. |
| ROXANE: |
| Then you will be his friend? |
| CYRANO: |
| I swear! |
| ROXANE: |
| And he shall fight no duels, promise! |
| CYRANO: |
| None. |
| ROXANE: |
| You are kind, cousin! Now I must be gone. |
| (She puts on her mask and veil quickly; then, absently): |
| You have not told me of your last night's fray. |
| Ah, but it must have been a hero-fight!. . . |
| —Bid him to write. |
| (She sends him a kiss with her fingers): |
| How good you are! |
| CYRANO: |
| Ay! Ay! |
| ROXANE: |
| A hundred men against you? Now, farewell.— |
| We are great friends? |
| CYRANO: |
| Ay, ay! |
| ROXANE: |
| Oh, bid him write! |
| You'll tell me all one day—A hundred men!— |
| Ah, brave!. . .How brave! |
| CYRANO (bowing to her): |
| I have fought better since. |
| (She goes out. Cyrano stands motionless, with eyes on the ground. A silence. |
| The door (right) opens. Ragueneau looks in.) |
|
|
||||
|
