READ STUDY GUIDE: Act II, scenes vii–xi |
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Act II, Scene ix
| Cyrano, Le Bret, the cadets, Christian de Neuvillette. |
| A CADET (seated at a table, glass in hand): |
 Cyrano! |
| (Cyrano turns round): |
| The story! |
| CYRANO: |
| In its time! |
| (He goes up on Le Bret's arm. They talk in low voices.) |
| THE CADET (rising and coming down): |
| The story of the fray! 'Twill lesson well |
| (He stops before the table where Christian is seated): |
| This timid young apprentice! |
| CHRISTIAN (raising his head): |
| 'Prentice! Who? |
| ANOTHER CADET: |
| This sickly Northern greenhorn! |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Sickly! |
| FIRST CADET (mockingly): |
| Hark! |
| Monsieur de Neuvillette, this in your ear: |
| There's somewhat here, one no more dares to name, |
| Than to say 'rope' to one whose sire was hanged! |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| What may that be? |
| ANOTHER CADET (in a terrible voice): |
| See here! |
| (He puts his finger three times, mysteriously, on his nose): |
| Do you understand? |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Oh! 'tis the. . . |
| ANOTHER: |
| Hush! oh, never breathe that word, |
| Unless you'd reckon with him yonder! |
| (He points to Cyrano, who is talking with Le Bret.) |
| ANOTHER (who has meanwhile come up noiselessly to sit on the table—whispering |
| behind him): |
| Hark! |
| He put two snuffling men to death, in rage, |
| For the sole reason they spoke through their nose! |
| ANOTHER (in a hollow voice, darting on all-fours from under the table, where |
| he had crept): |
| And if you would not perish in flower o' youth, |
| —Oh, mention not the fatal cartilage! |
| ANOTHER (clapping him on the shoulder): |
| A word? A gesture! For the indiscreet |
| His handkerchief may prove his winding-sheet! |
| (Silence. All, with crossed arms, look at Christian. He rises and goes over |
| to Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, who is talking to an officer, and feigns to see |
| nothing.) |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Captain! |
| CARBON (turning and looking at him from head to foot): |
| Sir! |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Pray, what skills it best to do |
| To Southerners who swagger?. . . |
| CARBON: |
| Give them proof |
| That one may be a Northerner, yet brave! |
| (He turns his back on him.) |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| I thank you. |
| FIRST CADET (to Cyrano): |
| Now the tale! |
| ALL: |
| The tale! |
| CYRANO (coming toward them): |
| The tale?. . . |
| (All bring their stools up, and group round him, listening eagerly. Christian |
| is astride a chair): |
| Well! I went all alone to meet the band. |
| The moon was shining, clock-like, full i' th' sky, |
| When, suddenly, some careful clockwright passed |
| A cloud of cotton-wool across the case |
| That held this silver watch. And, presto! heigh! |
| The night was inky black, and all the quays |
| Were hidden in the murky dark. Gadsooks! |
| One could see nothing further. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Than one's nose! |
| (Silence. All slowly rise, looking in terror at Cyrano, who has stopped— |
| dumfounded. Pause.) |
| CYRANO: |
| Who on God's earth is that? |
| A CADET (whispering): |
| It is a man |
| Who joined to-day. |
| CYRANO (making a step toward Christian): |
| To-day? |
| CARBON (in a low voice): |
| Yes. . .his name is |
| The Baron de Neuvil. . . |
| CYRANO (checking himself): |
| Good! It is well. . . |
| (He turns pale, flushes, makes as if to fall on Christian): |
| I. . . |
| (He controls himself): |
| What said I?. . . |
| (With a burst of rage): |
| MORDIOUS!. . . |
| (Then continues calmly): |
| That it was dark. |
| (Astonishment. The cadets reseat themselves, staring at him): |
| On I went, thinking, 'For a knavish cause |
| I may provoke some great man, some great prince, |
| Who certainly could break'. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| My nose!. . . |
| (Every one starts up. Christian balances on his chair.) |
| CYRANO (in a choked voice): |
| . . .'My teeth! |
| Who would break my teeth, and I, imprudent-like, |
| Was poking. . .' |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| My nose!. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| 'My finger,. . .in the crack |
| Between the tree and bark! He may prove strong |
| And rap me. . .' |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Over the nose. . . |
| CYRANO (wiping his forehead): |
| . . .'O' th' knuckles! Ay,' |
| But I cried, 'Forward, Gascon! Duty calls! |
| On, Cyrano!' And thus I ventured on. . . |
| When, from the shadow, came. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| A crack o' th' nose. |
| CYRANO: |
| I parry it—find myself. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Nose to nose. . . |
| CYRANO (bounding on to him): |
| Heaven and earth! |
| (All the Gascons leap up to see, but when he is close to Christian he controls |
| himself and continues): |
| . . .With a hundred brawling sots, |
| Who stank. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| A noseful. . . |
| CYRANO (white, but smiling): |
| Onions, brandy-cups! |
| I leapt out, head well down. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Nosing the wind! |
| CYRANO: |
| I charge!—gore two, impale one—run him through, |
| One aims at me—Paf! and I parry. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Pif! |
| CYRANO (bursting out): |
| Great God! Out! all of you! |
| (The cadets rush to the doors.) |
| FIRST CADET: |
| The tiger wakes! |
| CYRANO: |
| Every man, out! Leave me alone with him! |
| SECOND CADET: |
| We shall find him minced fine, minced into hash |
| In a big pasty! |
| RAGUENEAU: |
| I am turning pale, |
| And curl up, like a napkin, limp and white! |
| CARBON: |
| Let us be gone. |
| ANOTHER: |
| He will not leave a crumb! |
| ANOTHER: |
| I die of fright to think what will pass here! |
| ANOTHER (shutting door right): |
| Something too horrible! |
| (All have gone out by different doors, some by the staircase. Cyrano and |
| Christian are face to face, looking at each other for a moment.) |
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