Act III: Roxane’s KissScene I
A small square in the old Marais. Old houses. A perspective of little streets. On the right Roxane’s house and the wall of her garden overhung with thick foliage. Window and balcony over the door. A bench in front.
From the bench and the stones jutting out of the wall it is easy to climb to the balcony. In front of an old house in the same style of brick and stone. The knocker of this door is bandaged with linen like a sore thumb.
At the rising of the curtain the duenna is seated on the bench.
The window on Roxane’s balcony is wide open.
Ragueneau is standing near the door in a sort of livery. He has just finished relating something to the duenna, and is wiping his eyes.
Ragueneau, the duenna. Then Roxane, Cyrano, and two pages.
Ragueneau
—And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:—then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to take me for her steward.
The Duenna
Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined?
Ragueneau
Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was not long a-coming.
The Duenna
Rising, and calling up to the open window
Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us!
Roxane’s Voice
From the window
I will but put me on a cloak!
The Duenna
To Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite
They wait us there opposite, at Clomire’s house. She receives them all there to-day—the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender Passion.
Ragueneau
The Tender Passion?
The Duenna
In a mincing voice
Ay, indeed!
Calling up to the window
Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the Tender Passion!
Roxane’s Voice
I come! I come!
A sound of stringed instruments approaching.
Cyrano’s Voice
Behind the scenes, singing
La, la, la, la!
The Duenna
Surprised
They serenade us?
Cyrano
Followed by two pages with arch-lutes
I tell you they are demi-semi-quavers, demi-semi-fool!
First Page
Ironically
You know then, Sir, to distinguish between semi-quavers and demi-semi- quavers?
Cyrano
Is not every disciple of Gassendi a musician?
The Page
Playing and singing
La, la!
Cyrano
Snatching the lute from him, and going on with the phrase
In proof of which, I can continue! La, la, la, la!
Roxane
Appearing on the balcony
What? ’Tis you?
Cyrano
Going on with the air, and singing to it
’Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o- oses!
Roxane
I am coming down!
She leaves the balcony.
The Duenna
Pointing to the pages
How come these two virtuosi here?
Cyrano
’Tis for a wager I won of D’Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar; contradictions raged hotly—‘’Tis so!’ ‘Nay, ’tis so!’ when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skillful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws! ‘I will wager you a day’s music,’ says he!—And lost it! Thus, see you, till Phoebus’ chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody. ’Twas pleasant at the first, but i’ faith, I begin to weary of it already!
To the musicians
Ho there! go serenade Montfleury for me! Play a dance to him!
The pages go toward the door. To the duenna
I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether…
To the pages, who are going out
Play a long time,—and play out of tune!
To the duenna
…Whether her soul’s elected is ever the same, ever faultless!
Roxane
Coming out of the house
Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And—how well I love him!
Cyrano
Smiling
Christian has so brilliant a wit?
Roxane
Brighter than even your own, cousin!
Cyrano
Be it so, with all my heart!
Roxane
Ah! methinks ’twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much—that mean all! At times his mind seems far away, the Muse says naught—and then, presto! he speaks—bewitchingly! enchantingly!
Cyrano
Incredulously
No, no!
Roxane
Fie! That is ill said! But lo! men are ever thus! Because he is fair to see, you would have it that he must be dull of speech.
Cyrano
He hath an eloquent tongue in telling his love?
Roxane
In telling his love? why, ’tis not simple telling, ’tis dissertation, ’tis analysis!
Cyrano
How is he with the pen?
Roxane
Still better! Listen,—here:—
Reciting
‘The more of my poor heart you takeThe larger grows my heart!’
Triumphantly to Cyrano
How like you those lines?
Cyrano
Pooh!
Roxane
And thus it goes on…‘And, since some target I must showFor Cupid’s cruel dart,Oh, if mine own you deign to keep,Then give me your sweet heart!’
Cyrano
Lord! first he has too much, then anon not enough! How much heart does the fellow want?
Roxane
You would vex a saint!…But ’tis your jealousy.
Cyrano
Starting
What mean you?
Roxane
Ay, your poet’s jealousy! Hark now, if this again be not tender-sweet?—‘My heart to yours sounds but one cry:If kisses fast could fleeBy letter, then with your sweet lipsMy letters read should be!If kisses could be writ with ink,If kisses fast could flee!’
Cyrano
Smiling approvingly in spite of himself
Ha! those last lines are,—hm!…hm!…
Correcting himself—contemptuously
—They are paltry enough!
Roxane
And this…
Cyrano
Enchanted
Then you have his letters by heart?
Roxane
Every one of them!
Cyrano
By all oaths that can be sworn,—’tis flattering!
Roxane
They are the lines of a master!
Cyrano
Modestly
Come, nay…a master?…
Roxane
Ay, I say it—a master!
Cyrano
Good—be it so.
The Duenna
Coming down quickly
Here comes Monsieur de Guiche!
To Cyrano, pushing him toward the house
In with you! ’twere best he see you not; it might perchance put him on the scent…
Roxane
To Cyrano
Ay, of my own dear secret! He loves me, and is powerful, and, if he knew, then all were lost! Marry! he could well deal a deathblow to my love!
Cyrano
Entering the house
Good! good!
De Guiche appears.