Act II: The Poet’s Eating-HouseScene IV
Ragueneau, Lise, the musketeer. Cyrano at the little table writing. The poets, dressed in black, their stockings ungartered, and covered with mud.
Lise
Entering, to Ragueneau
Here they come, your mud-bespattered friends!
First Poet
Entering, to Ragueneau
Brother in art!…
Second Poet
To Ragueneau, shaking his hands
Dear brother!
Third Poet
High soaring eagle among pastry-cooks!
He sniffs
Marry! it smells good here in your eyrie!
Fourth Poet
’Tis at Phoebus’ own rays that thy roasts turn!
Fifth Poet
Apollo among master-cooks—
Ragueneau
Whom they surround and embrace
Ah! how quick a man feels at his ease with them!…
First Poet
We were stayed by the mob; they are crowded all round the Porte de Nesle!…
Second Poet
Eight bleeding brigand carcasses strew the pavements there—all slit open with sword-gashes!
Cyrano
Raising his head a minute
Eight?…hold, methought seven.
He goes on writing.
Ragueneau
To Cyrano
Know you who might be the hero of the fray?
Cyrano
Carelessly
Not I.
Lise
To the musketeer
And you? Know you?
The Musketeer
Twirling his mustache
Maybe!
Cyrano
Writing a little way off:—he is heard murmuring a word from time to time
‘I love thee!’
First Poet
’Twas one man, say they all, ay, swear to it, one man who, single-handed, put the whole band to the rout!
Second Poet
’Twas a strange sight!—pikes and cudgels strewed thick upon the ground.
Cyrano
Writing
…’Thine eyes’…
Third Poet
And they were picking up hats all the way to the Quai d’Orfevres!
First Poet
Sapristi! but he must have been a ferocious…
Cyrano
Same play
…’Thy lips’…
First Poet
’Twas a parlous fearsome giant that was the author of such exploits!
Cyrano
Same play
…’And when I see thee come, I faint for fear.’
Second Poet
Filching a cake
What hast rhymed of late, Ragueneau?
Cyrano
Same play
…’Who worships thee’…
He stops, just as he is about to sign, and gets up, slipping the letter into his doublet
No need I sign, since I give it her myself.
Ragueneau
To second poet
I have put a recipe into verse.
Third Poet
Seating himself by a plate of cream-puffs
Go to! Let us hear these verses!
Fourth Poet
Looking at a cake which he has taken
Its cap is all a’ one side!
He makes one bite of the top.
First Poet
See how this gingerbread woos the famished rhymer with its almond eyes, and its eyebrows of angelica!
He takes it.
Second Poet
We listen.
Third Poet
Squeezing a cream-puff gently
How it laughs! Till its very cream runs over!
Second Poet
Biting a bit off the great lyre of pastry
This is the first time in my life that ever I drew any means of nourishing me from the lyre!
Ragueneau
Who has put himself ready for reciting, cleared his throat, settled his cap, struck an attitude
A recipe in verse!…
Second Poet
To first, nudging him
You are breakfasting?
First Poet
To second
And you dining, methinks.
Ragueneau
How almond tartlets are made.
Beat your eggs up, light and quick;Froth them thick;Mingle with them while you beatJuice of lemon, essence fine;Then combineThe burst milk of almonds sweet.
Circle with a custard pasteThe slim waistOf your tartlet-molds; the topWith a skillful finger print,Nick and dint,Round their edge, then, drop by drop,In its little dainty bedYour cream shed:In the oven place each mold:Reappearing, softly browned,The renownedAlmond tartlets you behold!
The Poets
With mouths crammed full
Exquisite! Delicious!
A Poet
Choking
Homph!
They go up, eating.
Cyrano
Who has been watching, goes toward Ragueneau
Lulled by your voice, did you see how they were stuffing themselves?
Ragueneau
In a low voice, smiling
Oh, ay! I see well enough, but I never will seem to look, fearing to distress them; thus I gain a double pleasure when I recite to them my poems; for I leave those poor fellows who have not breakfasted free to eat, even while I gratify my own dearest foible, see you?
Cyrano
Clapping him on the shoulder
Friend, I like you right well!…
Ragueneau goes after his friends. Cyrano follows him with his eyes, then, rather sharply
Ho there! Lise!
Lise, who is talking tenderly to the musketeer, starts, and comes down toward Cyrano
So this fine captain is laying siege to you?
Lise
Offended
One haughty glance of my eye can conquer any man that should dare venture aught ’gainst my virtue.
Cyrano
Pooh! Conquering eyes, methinks, are oft conquered eyes.
Lise
Choking with anger
But—
Cyrano
Incisively
I like Ragueneau well, and so—mark me, Dame Lise—I permit not that he be rendered a laughing-stock by any…
Lise
But…
Cyrano
Who has raised his voice so as to be heard by the gallant
A word to the wise…
He bows to the musketeer, and goes to the doorway to watch, after looking at the clock.
Lise
To the musketeer, who has merely bowed in answer to Cyrano’s bow
How now? Is this your courage?…Why turn you not a jest on his nose?
The Musketeer
On his nose?…ay, ay…his nose.
He goes quickly farther away; Lise follows him.
Cyrano
From the doorway, signing to Ragueneau to draw the poets away
Hist!…
Ragueneau
Showing them the door on the right
We shall be more private there…
Cyrano
Impatiently
Hist! Hist!…
Ragueneau
Drawing them farther
To read poetry, ’tis better here…
First Poet
Despairingly, with his mouth full
What! leave the cakes?…
Second Poet
Never! Let’s take them with us!
They all follow Ragueneau in procession, after sweeping all the cakes off the trays.