Act IV, Scene vi
| The same, all but De Guiche. |
| CHRISTIAN (entreatingly): |
 Roxane! |
| ROXANE: |
| No! |
| FIRST CADET (to the others): |
| She stays! |
| ALL (hurrying, hustling each other, tidying themselves): |
| A comb!—Soap!—My uniform is torn!—A needle!—A ribbon!—Lend your |
| mirror!—My cuffs!—Your curling-iron!—A razor!. . . |
| ROXANE (to Cyrano, who still pleads with her): |
| No! Naught shall make me stir from this spot! |
| CARBON (who, like the others, has been buckling, dusting, brushing his hat, |
| settling his plume, and drawing on his cuffs, advances to Roxane, and |
| ceremoniously): |
| It is perchance more seemly, since things are thus, that I present to you |
| some of these gentlemen who are about to have the honor of dying before your |
| eyes. |
| (Roxane bows, and stands leaning on Christian's arm, while Carbon introduces |
| the cadets to her): |
| Baron de Peyrescous de Colignac! |
| THE CADET (with a low reverence): |
| Madame. . . |
| CARBON (continuing): |
| Baron de Casterac de Cahuzac,—Vidame de Malgouyre Estressac Lesbas |
| d'Escarabiot, Chevalier d'Antignac-Juzet, Baron Hillot de Blagnac-Salechan de |
| Castel Crabioules. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| But how many names have you each? |
| BARON HILLOT: |
| Scores! |
| CARBON (to Roxane): |
| Pray, upon the hand that holds your kerchief. |
| ROXANE (opens her hand, and the handkerchief falls): |
| Why? |
| (The whole company start forward to pick it up.) |
| CARBON (quickly raising it): |
| My company had no flag. But now, by my faith, they will have the fairest in |
| all the camp! |
| ROXANE (smiling): |
| 'Tis somewhat small. |
| CARBON (tying the handkerchief on the staff of his lance): |
| But—'tis of lace! |
| A CADET (to the rest): |
| I could die happy, having seen so sweet a face, if I had something in my |
| stomach—were it but a nut! |
| CARBON (who has overheard, indignantly): |
| Shame on you! What, talk of eating when a lovely woman!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| But your camp air is keen; I myself am famished. Pasties, cold fricassee, |
| old wines—there is my bill of fare? Pray bring it all here. |
| (Consternation.) |
| A CADET: |
| All that? |
| ANOTHER: |
| But where on earth find it? |
| ROXANE (quietly): |
| In my carriage. |
| ALL: |
| How? |
| ROXANE: |
| Now serve up—carve! Look a little closer at my coachman, gentlemen, and |
| you will recognize a man most welcome. All the sauces can be sent to table |
| hot, if we will! |
| THE CADETS (rushing pellmell to the carriage): |
| 'Tis Ragueneau! |
| (Acclamations): |
| Oh, oh! |
| ROXANE (looking after them): |
| Poor fellows! |
| CYRANO (kissing her hand): |
| Kind fairy! |
| RAGUENEAU (standing on the box like a quack doctor at a fair): |
| Gentlemen!. . . |
| (General delight.) |
| THE CADETS: |
| Bravo! bravo! |
| RAGUENEAU: |
| . . .The Spaniards, gazing on a lady so dainty fair, overlooked the fare so |
| dainty!. . . |
| (Applause.) |
| CYRANO (in a whisper to Christian): |
| Hark, Christian! |
| RAGUENEAU: |
| . . .And, occupied with gallantry, perceived not— |
| (His draws a plate from under the seat, and holds it up): |
| —The galantine!. . . |
| (Applause. The galantine passes from hand to hand.) |
| CYRANO (still whispering to Christian): |
| Prythee, one word! |
| RAGUENEAU: |
| And Venus so attracted their eyes that Diana could secretly pass by with— |
| (He holds up a shoulder of mutton): |
| —her fawn! |
| (Enthusiasm. Twenty hands are held out to seize the shoulder of mutton.) |
| CYRANO (in a low whisper to Christian): |
| I must speak to you! |
| ROXANE (to the cadets, who come down, their arms laden with food): |
| Put it all on the ground! |
| (She lays all out on the grass, aided by the two imperturbable lackeys who |
| were behind the carriage.) |
| ROXANE (to Christian, just as Cyrano is drawing him apart): |
| Come, make yourself of use! |
| (Christian comes to help her. Cyrano's uneasiness increases.) |
| RAGUENEAU: |
| Truffled peacock! |
| FIRST CADET (radiant, coming down, cutting a big slice of ham): |
| By the mass! We shall not brave the last hazard without having had a |
| gullet-full!— |
| (quickly correcting himself on seeing Roxane): |
| —Pardon! A Balthazar feast! |
| RAGUENEAU (throwing down the carriage cushions): |
| The cushions are stuffed with ortolans! |
| (Hubbub. They tear open and turn out the contents of the cushions. Bursts of |
| laughter—merriment.) |
| THIRD CADET: |
| Ah! Viedaze! |
| RAGUENEAU (throwing down to the cadets bottles of red wine): |
| Flasks of rubies!— |
| (and white wine): |
| —Flasks of topaz! |
| ROXANE (throwing a folded tablecloth at Cyrano's head): |
| Unfold me that napkin!—Come, come! be nimble! |
| RAGUENEAU (waving a lantern): |
| Each of the carriage-lamps is a little larder! |
| CYRANO (in a low voice to Christian, as they arrange the cloth together): |
| I must speak with you ere you speak to her. |
| RAGUENEAU: |
| My whip-handle is an Arles sausage! |
| ROXANE (pouring out wine, helping): |
| Since we are to die, let the rest of the army shift for itself. All for the |
| Gascons! And mark! if De Guiche comes, let no one invite him! |
| (Going from one to the other): |
| There! there! You have time enough! Do not eat too fast!—Drink a little.- |
| -Why are you crying? |
| FIRST CADET: |
| It is all so good!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| Tut!—Red or white?—Some bread for Monsieur de Carbon!—a knife! Pass your |
| plate!—a little of the crust? Some more? Let me help you!—Some champagne?- |
| -A wing? |
| CYRANO (who follows her, his arms laden with dishes, helping her to wait on |
| everybody): |
| How I worship her! |
| ROXANE (going up to Christian): |
| What will you? |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Nothing. |
| ROXANE: |
| Nay, nay, take this biscuit, steeped in muscat; come!. . .but two drops! |
| CHRISTIAN (trying to detain her): |
| Oh! tell me why you came? |
| ROXANE: |
| Wait; my first duty is to these poor fellows.—Hush! In a few minutes. . . |
| LE BRET (who had gone up to pass a loaf on the end of a lance to the sentry on |
| the rampart): |
| De Guiche! |
| CYRANO: |
| Quick! hide flasks, plates, pie-dishes, game-baskets! Hurry!—Let us all |
| look unconscious! |
| (To Ragueneau): |
| Up on your seat!—Is everything covered up? |
| (In an instant all has been pushed into the tents, or hidden under doublets, |
| cloaks, and beavers. De Guiche enters hurriedly—stops suddenly, sniffing the |
| air. Silence.) |
|
|
||||
|
