Act I: A Representation at the Hotel de BourgogneScene III
The same, all but Lignière. De Guiche, Valvert, then Montfleury.
A marquis (watching De Guiche, who comes down from Roxane’s box, and crosses the pit surrounded by obsequious noblemen, among them the Viscount de Valvert):
He pays a fine court, your De Guiche!
Another
Faugh!…Another Gascon!
The First
Ay, but the cold, supple Gascon—that is the stuff success is made of! Believe me, we had best make our bow to him.
They go toward De Guiche.
Second Marquis
What fine ribbons! How call you the color, Count de Guiche? ‘Kiss me, my darling,’ or ‘Timid Fawn?’
De Guiche
’Tis the color called ‘Sick Spaniard.’
First Marquis
’Faith! The color speaks truth, for, thanks to your valor, things will soon go ill for Spain in Flanders.
De Guiche
I go on the stage! Will you come?
He goes toward the stage, followed by the marquises and gentlemen. Turning, he calls
Come you Valvert!
Christian
Who is watching and listening, starts on hearing this name
The Viscount! Ah! I will throw full in his face my…
He puts his hand in his pocket, and finds there the hand of a pickpocket who is about to rob him. He turns round
Hey?
The Pickpocket
Oh!
Christian
Holding him tightly
I was looking for a glove.
The Pickpocket
Smiling piteously
And you find a hand.
Changing his tone, quickly and in a whisper
Let me but go, and I will deliver you a secret.
Christian
Still holding him
What is it?
The Pickpocket
Lignière…he who has just left you…
Christian
Same play
Well?
The Pickpocket
His life is in peril. A song writ by him has given offense in high places—and a hundred men—I am of them—are posted to-night…
Christian
A hundred men! By whom posted?
The Pickpocket
I may not say—a secret…
Christian
Shrugging his shoulders
Oh!
The Pickpocket
With great dignity
…Of the profession.
Christian
Where are they posted?
The Pickpocket
At the Porte de Nesle. On his way homeward. Warn him.
Christian
Letting go of his wrists
But where can I find him?
The Pickpocket
Run round to all the taverns—The Golden Wine Press, the Pine Cone, The Belt that Bursts, The Two Torches, The Three Funnels, and at each leave a word that shall put him on his guard.
Christian
Good—I fly! Ah, the scoundrels! A hundred men ’gainst one!
Looking lovingly at Roxane
Ah, to leave her!…
Looking with rage at Valvert
and him!…But save Lignière I must!
He hurries out. De Guiche, the viscount, the marquises, have all disappeared behind the curtain to take their places on the benches placed on the stage. The pit is quite full; the galleries and boxes are also crowded.
The Audience
Begin!
A Burgher
Whose wig is drawn up on the end of a string by a page in the upper gallery
My wig!
Cries of Delight
He is bald! Bravo, pages—ha! ha! ha!…
The Burgher
Furious, shaking his fist
Young villain!
Laughter and Cries
Beginning very loud, and dying gradually away
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
Total silence.
Le Bret
Astonished
What means this sudden silence?…
A spectator says something to him in a low voice
Is’t true?
The Spectator
I have just heard it on good authority.
Murmurs
Spreading through the hall
Hush! Is it he? No! Ay, I say! In the box with the bars in front! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! The Cardinal!
A Page
The devil! We shall have to behave ourselves…
A knock is heard upon the stage. Every one is motionless. A pause.
The Voice of A Marquis
In the silence, behind the curtain
Snuff that candle!
Another Marquis
Putting his head through the opening in the curtain
A chair!
A chair is passed from hand to hand, over the heads of the spectators. The marquis takes it and disappears, after blowing some kisses to the boxes.
A Spectator
Silence!
Three knocks are heard on the stage. The curtain opens in the centre Tableau. The marquises in insolent attitudes seated on each side of the stage. The scene represents a pastoral landscape. Four little lusters light the stage; the violins play softly.
Le Bret
In a low voice to Ragueneau
Montfleury comes on the scene?
Ragueneau
Also in a low voice
Ay, ’tis he who begins.
Le Bret
Cyrano is not here.
Ragueneau
I have lost my wager.
Le Bret
’Tis all the better!
An air on the drone-pipes is heard, and Montfleury enters, enormously stout, in an Arcadian shepherd’s dress, a hat wreathed with roses drooping over one ear, blowing into a ribboned drone pipe.
The Pit
Applauding
Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury!
Montfleury
After bowing low, begins the part of Phedon
‘Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu solitaire,Se prescrit a soi-meme un exil volontaire,Et qui, lorsque Zephire a souffle sur les bois…’
A Voice
From the middle of the pit
Villain! Did I not forbid you to show your face here for month?
General stupor. Every one turns round. Murmurs.
Different Voices
Hey?—What?—What is’t?…
The people stand up in the boxes to look.
Cuigy
’Tis he!
Le Bret
Terrified
Cyrano!
The Voice
King of clowns! Leave the stage this instant!
All the Audience
Indignantly
Oh!
Montfleury
But…
The Voice
Do you dare defy me?
Different Voices
From the pit and the boxes
Peace! Enough!—Play on, Montfleury—fear nothing!
Montfleury
In a trembling voice
‘Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu sol—‘
The Voice
More fiercely
Well! Chief of all the blackguards, must I come and give you a taste of my cane?
A hand holding a cane starts up over the heads of the spectators.
Montfleury
In a voice that trembles more and more
‘Heureux qui…’
The cane is shaken.
The Voice
Off the stage!
The Pit
Oh!
Montfleury
Choking
‘Heureux qui loin des cours…’
Cyrano
Appearing suddenly in the pit, standing on a chair, his arms crossed, his beaver cocked fiercely, his mustache bristling, his nose terrible to see
Ah! I shall be angry in a minute!…
Sensation.