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Act IV, Scene x | 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. . . |
| 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. |
| 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! |
| 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! |
| 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.) |
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