Act IV, Scene x
| Roxane, Cyrano. Then Le Bret, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, the cadets, Ragueneau, |
| De Guiche, etc. |
| ROXANE: |
 Important, how? |
| CYRANO (in despair. to Roxane): |
| He's gone! 'Tis naught!—Oh, you know how he sees |
| Importance in a trifle! |
| ROXANE (warmly): |
| Did he doubt |
| Of what I said?—Ah, yes, I saw he doubted! |
| CYRANO (taking her hand): |
| But are you sure you told him all the truth? |
| ROXANE: |
| Yes, I would love him were he. . . |
| (She hesitates.) |
| CYRANO: |
| Does that word |
| Embarrass you before my face, Roxane? |
| ROXANE: |
| I. . . |
| CYRANO (smiling sadly): |
| 'Twill not hurt me! Say it! If he were |
| Ugly!. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| Yes, ugly! |
| (Musket report outside): |
| Hark! I hear a shot! |
| CYRANO (ardently): |
| Hideous! |
| ROXANE: |
| Hideous! yes! |
| CYRANO: |
| Disfigured. |
| ROXANE: |
| Ay! |
| CYRANO: |
| Grotesque? |
| ROXANE: |
| He could not be grotesque to me! |
| CYRANO: |
| You'd love the same?. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| The same—nay, even more! |
| CYRANO (losing command over himself—aside): |
| My God! it's true, perchance, love waits me there! |
| (To Roxane): |
| I. . .Roxane. . .listen. . . |
| LE BRET (entering hurriedly—to Cyrano): |
| Cyrano! |
| CYRANO (turning round): |
| What? |
| LE BRET: |
| Hush! |
| (He whispers something to him.) |
| CYRANO (letting go Roxane's hand and exclaiming): |
| Ah, God! |
| ROXANE: |
| What is it? |
| CYRANO (to himself—stunned): |
| All is over now. |
| (Renewed reports.) |
| ROXANE: |
| What is the matter? Hark! another shot! |
| (She goes up to look outside.) |
| CYRANO: |
| It is too late, now I can never tell! |
| ROXANE (trying to rush out): |
| What has chanced? |
| CYRANO (rushing to stop her): |
| Nothing! |
| (Some cadets enter, trying to hide something they are carrying, and close |
| round it to prevent Roxane approaching.) |
| ROXANE: |
| And those men? |
| (Cyrano draws her away): |
| What were you just about to say before. . .? |
| CYRANO: |
| What was I saying? Nothing now, I swear! |
| (Solemnly): |
| I swear that Christian's soul, his nature, were. . . |
| (Hastily correcting himself): |
| Nay, that they are, the noblest, greatest. . . |
| ROXANE: |
| Were? |
| (With a loud scream): |
| Oh! |
| (She rushes up, pushing every one aside.) |
| CYRANO: |
| All is over now! |
| ROXANE (seeing Christian lying on the ground, wrapped in his cloak): |
| O Christian! |
| LE BRET (to Cyrano): |
| Struck by first shot of the enemy! |
| (Roxane flings herself down by Christian. Fresh reports of cannon—clash of |
| arms—clamor—beating of drums.) |
| CARBON (with sword in the air): |
| O come! Your muskets. |
| (Followed by the cadets, he passes to the other side of the ramparts.) |
| ROXANE: |
| Christian! |
| THE VOICE OF CARBON (from the other side): |
| Ho! make haste! |
| ROXANE: |
| Christian! |
| CARBON: |
| FORM LINE! |
| ROXANE: |
| Christian! |
| CARBON: |
| HANDLE YOUR MATCH! |
| (Ragueneau rushes up, bringing water in a helmet.) |
| CHRISTIAN (in a dying voice): |
| Roxane! |
| CYRANO (quickly, whispering into Christian's ear, while Roxane distractedly |
| tears a piece of linen from his breast, which she dips into the water, trying |
| to stanch the bleeding): |
| I told her all. She loves you still. |
| (Christian closes his eyes.) |
| ROXANE: |
| How, my sweet love? |
| CARBON: |
| DRAW RAMRODS! |
| ROXANE (to Cyrano): |
| He is not dead? |
| CARBON: |
| OPEN YOUR CHARGES WITH YOUR TEETH! |
| ROXANE: |
| His cheek |
| Grows cold against my own! |
| CARBON: |
| READY! PRESENT! |
| ROXANE (seeing a letter in Christian's doublet): |
| A letter!. . . |
| 'Tis for me! |
| (She opens it.) |
| CYRANO (aside): |
| My letter! |
| CARBON: |
| FIRE! |
| (Musket reports—shouts—noise of battle.) |
| CYRANO (trying to disengage his hand, which Roxane on her knees is holding): |
| But, Roxane, hark, they fight! |
| ROXANE (detaining him): |
| Stay yet awhile. |
| For he is dead. You knew him, you alone. |
| (Weeping quietly): |
| Ah, was not his a beauteous soul, a soul |
| Wondrous! |
| CYRANO (standing up—bareheaded): |
| Ay, Roxane. |
| ROXANE: |
| An inspired poet? |
| CYRANO: |
| Ay, Roxane. |
| ROXANE: |
| And a mind sublime? |
| CYRANO: |
| Oh, yes! |
| ROXANE: |
| A heart too deep for common minds to plumb, |
| A spirit subtle, charming? |
| CYRANO (firmly): |
| Ay, Roxane. |
| ROXANE (flinging herself on the dead body): |
| Dead, my love! |
| CYRANO (aside—drawing his sword): |
| Ay, and let me die to-day, |
| Since, all unconscious, she mourns me—in him! |
| (Sounds of trumpets in the distance.) |
| DE GUICHE (appearing on the ramparts—bareheaded—with a wound on his |
| forehead—in a voice of thunder): |
| It is the signal! Trumpet flourishes! |
| The French bring the provisions into camp! |
| Hold but the place awhile! |
| ROXANE: |
| See, there is blood |
| Upon the letter—tears! |
| A VOICE (outside—shouting): |
| Surrender! |
| VOICE OF CADETS: |
| No! |
| RAGUENEAU (standing on the top of his carriage, watches the battle over the |
| edge of the ramparts): |
| The danger's ever greater! |
| CYRANO (to De Guiche—pointing to Roxane): |
| I will charge! |
| Take her away! |
| ROXANE (kissing the letter—in a half-extinguished voice): |
| O God! his tears! his blood!. . . |
| RAGUENEAU (jumping down from the carriage and rushing toward her): |
| She's swooned away! |
| DE GUICHE (on the rampart—to the cadets—with fury): |
| Stand fast! |
| A VOICE (outside): |
| Lay down your arms! |
| THE CADETS: |
| No! |
| CYRANO (to De Guiche): |
| Now that you have proved your valor, Sir, |
| (Pointing to Roxane): |
| Fly, and save her! |
| DE GUICHE (rushing to Roxane, and carrying her away in his arms): |
| So be it! Gain but time, |
| The victory's ours! |
| CYRANO: |
| Good. |
| (Calling out to Roxane, whom De Guiche, aided by Ragueneau, is bearing away in |
| a fainting condition): |
| Farewell, Roxane! |
| (Tumult. Shouts. Cadets reappear, wounded, falling on the scene. Cyrano, |
| rushing to the battle, is stopped by Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, who is streaming |
| with blood.) |
| CARBON: |
| We are breaking! I am wounded—wounded twice! |
| CYRANO (shouting to the Gascons): |
| GASCONS! HO, GASCONS! NEVER TURN YOUR BACKS! |
| (To Carbon, whom he is supporting): |
| Have no fear! I have two deaths to avenge: |
| My friend who's slain;—and my dead happiness! |
| (They come down, Cyrano brandishing the lance to which is attached Roxane's |
| handkerchief): |
| Float there! laced kerchief broidered with her name! |
| (He sticks it in the ground and shouts to the cadets): |
| FALL ON THEM, GASCONS! CRUSH THEM! |
| (To the fifer): |
| Fifer, play! |
| (The fife plays. The wounded try to rise. Some cadets, falling one over the |
| other down the slope, group themselves round Cyrano and the little flag. The |
| carriage is crowded with men inside and outside, and, bristling with |
| arquebuses, is turned into a fortress.) |
| A CADET (appearing on the crest, beaten backward, but still fighting, cries): |
| They're climbing the redoubt! |
| (and falls dead.) |
| CYRANO: |
| Let us salute them! |
| (The rampart is covered instantly by a formidable row of enemies. The |
| standards of the Imperialists are raised): |
| Fire! |
| (General discharge.) |
| A CRY IN THE ENEMY'S RANKS: |
| Fire! |
| (A deadly answering volley. The cadets fall on all sides.) |
| A SPANISH OFFICER (uncovering): |
| Who are these men who rush on death? |
| CYRANO (reciting, erect, amid a storm of bullets): |
| The bold Cadets of Gascony, |
| Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux! |
| Brawling, swaggering boastfully, |
| (He rushes forward, followed by a few survivors): |
| The bold Cadets. . . |
| (His voice is drowned in the battle.) |
| Curtain.: |
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