Act IV: The Cadets of GasconyScene IV
The same. De Guiche.
De Guiche
To Carbon
Good-day!
They examine each other. Aside, with satisfaction
He’s green.
Carbon
Aside
He has nothing left but eyes.
De Guiche
Looking at the cadets
Here are the rebels! Ay, Sirs, on all sidesI hear that in your ranks you scoff at me;That the Cadets, these loutish, mountain-bred,Poor country squires, and barons of Perigord,Scarce find for me—their Colonel—a disdainSufficient! call me plotter, wily courtier!It does not please their mightiness to seeA point-lace collar on my steel cuirass,—And they enrage, because a man, in sooth,May be no ragged-robin, yet a Gascon!
Silence. All smoke and play
Shall I command your Captain punish you?No.
Carbon
I am free, moreover,—will not punish—
De Guiche
Ah!
Carbon
I have paid my company—’tis mine.I bow but to headquarters.
De Guiche
So?—in faith!That will suffice.
Addressing himself to the cadets
I can despise your taunts’Tis well known how I bear me in the war;At Bapaume, yesterday, they saw the rageWith which I beat back the Count of Bucquoi;Assembling my own men, I fell on his,And charged three separate times!
Cyrano
Without lifting his eyes from his book
And your white scarf?
De Guiche
Surprised and gratified
You know that detail?…Troth! It happened thus:While caracoling to recall the troopsFor the third charge, a band of fugitivesBore me with them, close by the hostile ranks:I was in peril—capture, sudden death!—When I thought of the good expedientTo loosen and let fall the scarf which toldMy military rank; thus I contrived—Without attention waked—to leave the foes,And suddenly returning, reinforcedWith my own men, to scatter them! And now,—What say you, Sir?
The cadets pretend not to be listening, but the cards and the dice-boxes remain suspended in their hands, the smoke of their pipes in their cheeks. They wait.
Cyrano
I say, that Henri QuatreHad not, by any dangerous odds, been forcedTo strip himself of his white helmet plume.
Silent delight. The cards fall, the dice rattle. The smoke is puffed.
De Guiche
The ruse succeeded, though!
Same suspension of play, etc.
Cyrano
Oh, may be! ButOne does not lightly abdicate the honorTo serve as target to the enemy
Cards, dice, fall again, and the cadets smoke with evident delight
Had I been present when your scarf fell low,—Our courage, Sir, is of a different sort—I would have picked it up and put it on.
De Guiche
Oh, ay! Another Gascon boast!
Cyrano
A boast?Lend it to me. I pledge myself, to-night,—With it across my breast,—to lead th’ assault.
De Guiche
Another Gascon vaunt! You know the scarfLies with the enemy, upon the brinkOf the stream,…the place is riddled now with shot,—No one can fetch it hither!
Cyrano
Drawing the scarf from his pocket, and holding it out to him
Here it is.
Silence. The cadets stifle their laughter in their cards and dice-boxes. De Guiche turns and looks at them; they instantly become grave, and set to play. One of them whistles indifferently the air just played by the fifer.
De Guiche
Taking the scarf
I thank you. It will now enable meTo make a signal,—that I had forborneTo make—till now.
He goes to the rampart, climbs it, and waves the scarf thrice.
All
What’s that?
The Sentinel
From the top of the rampart
See you yon manDown there, who runs?…
De Guiche
Descending
’Tis a false Spanish spyWho is extremely useful to my ends.The news he carries to the enemyAre those I prompt him with—so, in a word,We have an influence on their decisions!
Cyrano
Scoundrel!
De Guiche
Carelessly knotting on his scarf
’Tis opportune. What were we saying?Ah! I have news for you. Last evening—To victual us—the Marshal did attemptA final effort:—secretly he wentTo Dourlens, where the King’s provisions be.But—to return to camp more easily—He took with him a goodly force of troops.Those who attacked us now would have fine sport!Half of the army’s absent from the camp!
Carbon
Ay, if the Spaniards knew, ’twere ill for us,But they know nothing of it?
De Guiche
Oh! they know.They will attack us.
Carbon
Ah!
De Guiche
For my false spyCame to warn me of their attack. He said,‘I can decide the point for their assault;Where would you have it? I will tell them ’tisThe least defended—they’ll attempt you there.’I answered, ‘Good. Go out of camp, but watchMy signal. Choose the point from whence it comes.’
Carbon
To cadets
Make ready!
All rise; sounds of swords and belts being buckled.
De Guiche
’Twill be in an hour.
First Cadet
Good!…
They all sit down again and take up their games.
De Guiche
To Carbon
Time must be gained. The Marshal will return.
Carbon
How gain it?
De Guiche
You will all be good enoughTo let yourselves to be killed.
Cyrano
Vengeance! oho!
De Guiche
I do not say that, if I loved you well,I had chosen you and yours,—but, as things stand,—Your courage yielding to no corps the palm—I serve my King, and serve my grudge as well.
Cyrano
Permit that I express my gratitude…
De Guiche
I know you love to fight against five score;You will not now complain of paltry odds.
He goes up with Carbon.
Cyrano
To the cadets
We shall add to the Gascon coat of arms,With its six bars of blue and gold, one more—The blood-red bar that was a-missing there!
De Guiche speaks in a low voice with Carbon at the back. Orders are given. Preparations go forward. Cyrano goes up to Christian, who stands with crossed arms.
Cyrano
Putting his hand on Christian’s shoulder
Christian!
Christian
Shaking his head
Roxane!
Cyrano
Alas!
Christian
At least, I’d sendMy heart’s farewell to her in a fair letter!…
Cyrano
I had suspicion it would be to-day,
He draws a letter out of his doublet
And had already writ…
Christian
Show!
Cyrano
Will you…?
Christian
Taking the letter
Ay!
He opens and reads it
Hold!
Cyrano
What?
Christian
This little spot!
Cyrano
Taking the letter, with an innocent look
A spot?
Christian
A tear!
Cyrano
Poets, at last,—by dint of counterfeiting—Take counterfeit for true—that is the charm!This farewell letter,—it was passing sad,I wept myself in writing it!
Christian
Wept? why?
Cyrano
Oh!…death itself is hardly terrible,…—But, ne’er to see her more! That is death’s sting!—For…I shall never…
Christian looks at him
We shall…
Quickly
I mean, you…
Christian
Snatching the letter from him
Give me that letter!
A rumor, far off in the camp.
VOICE Of SENTINEL:
Who goes there? Halloo!
Shots—voices—carriage-bells.
Carbon
What is it?
A Sentinel
On the rampart
’Tis a carriage!
All rush to see.
Cries
In the camp?It enters!—It comes from the enemy!—Fire!—No!—The coachman cries!—What does he say?—‘On the King’s service!’
Everyone is on the rampart, staring. The bells come nearer.
De Guiche
The King’s service? How?
All descend and draw up in line.
Carbon
Uncover, all!
De Guiche
The King’s! Draw up in line!Let him describe his curve as it befits!
The carriage enters at full speed covered with dust and mud. The curtains are drawn close. Two lackeys behind. It is pulled up suddenly.
Carbon
Beat a salute!
A roll of drums. The cadets uncover.
De Guiche
Lower the carriage-steps!
Two cadets rush forward. The door opens.
Roxane
Jumping down from the carriage
Good-day!
All are bowing to the ground, but at the sound of a woman’s voice every head is instantly raised.