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Act I, Scene vii | CYRANO (falling into Le Bret's arms): |  A rendezvous. . .from her!. . . |
| LE BRET: | | You're sad no more! |
| CYRANO: | | Ah! Let the world go burn! She knows I live! |
| LE BRET: | | Now you'll be calm, I hope? |
| CYRANO (beside himself for joy): | | Calm? I now calm? | | I'll be frenetic, frantic,—raving mad! | | Oh, for an army to attack!—a host! | | I've ten hearts in my breast; a score of arms; | | No dwarfs to cleave in twain!. . . | | (Wildly): | | No! Giants now! |
| (For a few moments the shadows of the actors have been moving on the stage, | | whispers are heard—the rehearsal is beginning. The violinists are in their | | places.) |
| A VOICE FROM THE STAGE: | | Hollo there! Silence! We rehearse! |
| CYRANO (laughing): | | We go! |
| (He moves away. By the big door enter Cuigy, Brissaille, and some officers, | | holding up Ligniere, who is drunk.) |
| CUIGY: | | Cyrano! |
| CYRANO: | | Well, what now? |
| CUIGY: | | A lusty thrush | | They're bringing you! |
| CYRANO (recognizing him): | | Ligniere!. . .What has chanced? |
| CUIGY: | | He seeks you! |
| BRISSAILLE: | | He dare not go home! |
| CYRANO: | | Why not? |
| LIGNIERE (in a husky voice, showing him a crumpled letter): | | This letter warns me. . .that a hundred men. . . | | Revenge that threatens me. . .that song, you know— | | At the Porte de Nesle. To get to my own house | | I must pass there. . .I dare not!. . .Give me leave | | To sleep to-night beneath your roof! Allow. . . |
| CYRANO: | | A hundred men? You'll sleep in your own bed! |
| LIGNIERE (frightened): | | But— |
| CYRANO (in a terrible voice, showing him the lighted lantern held by the | | porter, who is listening curiously): | | Take the lantern. | | (Ligniere seizes it): | | Let us start! I swear | | That I will make your bed to-night myself! | | (To the officers): | | Follow; some stay behind, as witnesses! |
| CUIGY: | | A hundred!. . . |
| CYRANO: | | Less, to-night—would be too few! |
| (The actors and actresses, in their costumes, have come down from the stage, | | and are listening.) |
| LE BRET: | | But why embroil yourself? |
| CYRANO: | | Le Bret who scolds! |
| LE BRET: | | That worthless drunkard!— |
| CYRANO (slapping Ligniere on the shoulder): | | Wherefore? For this cause;— | | This wine-barrel, this cask of Burgundy, | | Did, on a day, an action full of grace; | | As he was leaving church, he saw his love | | Take holy water—he, who is affeared | | At water's taste, ran quickly to the stoup, | | And drank it all, to the last drop!. . . |
| AN ACTRESS: | | Indeed, that was a graceful thing! |
| CYRANO: | | Ay, was it not? |
| THE ACTRESS (to the others): | | But why a hundred men 'gainst one poor rhymer? |
| CYRANO: | | March! | | (To the officers): | | Gentlemen, when you shall see me charge, | | Bear me no succor, none, whate'er the odds! |
| ANOTHER ACTRESS (jumping from the stage): | | Oh! I shall come and see! |
| CYRANO: | | Come, then! |
| ANOTHER (jumping down—to an old actor): | | And you?. . . |
| CYRANO: | | Come all—the Doctor, Isabel, Leander, | | Come, for you shall add, in a motley swarm, | | The farce Italian to this Spanish drama! |
| ALL THE WOMEN (dancing for joy): | | Bravo!—a mantle, quick!—my hood! |
| JODELET: | | Come on! |
| CYRANO: | | Play us a march, gentlemen of the band! | | (The violinists join the procession, which is forming. They take the | | footlights, and divide them for torches): | | Brave officers! next, women in costume, | | And, twenty paces on— | | (He takes his place): | | I all alone, | | Beneath the plume that Glory lends, herself, | | To deck my beaver—proud as Scipio!. . . | | —You hear me?—I forbid you succor me!— | | One, two three! Porter, open wide the doors! | | (The porter opens the doors; a view of old Paris in the moonlight is seen): | | Ah!. . .Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous: | | The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs; | | A lovely frame for this wild battle-scene; | | Beneath the vapor's floating scarves, the Seine | | Trembles, mysterious, like a magic mirror, | | And, shortly, you shall see what you shall see! |
| ALL: | | To the Porte de Nesle! |
| CYRANO (standing on the threshold): | | Ay, to the Porte de Nesle! | | (Turning to the actress): | | Did you not ask, young lady, for what cause | | Against this rhymer fivescore men were sent? | | (He draws his sword; then, calmly): | | 'Twas that they knew him for a friend of mine! |
| (He goes out. Ligniere staggers first after him, then the actresses on the | | officers' arms—the actors. The procession starts to the sound of the violins | | and in the faint light of the candles.) |
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