Act 2 — SCENE X.
Charles Renauld translation
CYRANO, CHRISTIAN.
CYRANO.
Embrace me!
CHRISTIAN.
Sir!....
CYRANO.
You are brave.
CHRISTIAN.
Perhaps. But....
CYRANO.
Very brave. I prefer it so.
CHRISTIAN.
Kindly explain....
CYRANO.
Embrace me! I am her brother!
CHRISTIAN.
Whose brother?
CYRANO.
Her's! Roxane's!
CHRISTIAN (running up to him).
You! The brother of Roxane?
CYRANO.
Well, very much the same: a brotherly cousin.
CHRISTIAN.
And she?....
CYRANO.
Told me all!
CHRISTIAN.
Does she love me?
CYRANO.
Perhaps!
CHRISTIAN (taking Cyrano's hands).
How happy I feel, Sir, to know you!
CYRANO.
Rather a sudden sentiment, is it not?
CHRISTIAN.
Forgive me, but....
CYRANO (looking well at him, and laying his hand on Christian's shoulder).
It's a fact. A fine-looking fellow, this rascal!
CHRISTIAN.
I only wish you knew, Sir, how much I admire you.
CYRANO.
Yes? But what of all those noses that you....
CHRISTIAN.
I withdraw them, Sir!
CYRANO.
Roxane expects a letter to-night.
CHRISTIAN.
That is the trouble.
CYRANO.
How so?
CHRISTIAN.
I am lost if I remain silent!....
CYRANO.
Well then?....
CHRISTIAN.
But, I am ashamed to own it, I am too stupid to write.
CYRANO.
Stupid? You are not, friend, since you realise your inability. Moreover, your attack upon me was not that of a dunce.
CHRISTIAN.
Oh! it is easy enough to find words for a fight! Yes, perhaps I have a sort of easy, military wit; but, facing women, I am struck dumb. Oh! their eyes seem favourable enough as I pass them....
CYRANO.
Are not their hearts the same when you stop?
CHRISTIAN.
No, for I belong to those—and I know it—who tremble, and know not how to speak of love.
CYRANO.
Strange!.... It seems to me that, if I were better looking, I should belong to the other class: those who know and dare.
CHRISTIAN.
Oh! that I could with elegance express my feelings!
CYRANO.
Or be a pretty little musketeer!
CHRISTIAN.
Roxane is a "précieuse," and, in her eyes, I shall be disgraced!
CYRANO (looking at Christian).
Oh! that for the feelings of my soul I had such an interpreter!
CHRISTIAN (despairing).
What would I not give for eloquence!
CYRANO (eagerly).
I'll lend you some! Lend you to me your physical attraction, and the two combined will constitute the hero of a romance.
CHRISTIAN.
What then?
CYRANO.
Would you feel equal to repeating the daily lessons I could give you?
CHRISTIAN.
What is it you propose?
CYRANO.
In Roxane's eyes you shall not be disgraced. Together, if you will, we can gain her love. Will you allow the soul so ill-restrained by my buckskin here to breathe and sing beneath your embroidered doublet?....
CHRISTIAN.
But Cyrano....
CYRANO.
.... Christian, will you?
CHRISTIAN.
Would it give you so much pleasure?
CYRANO (enraptured).
It would....
(returning to his senses, and lightly)
It would amuse me!
A trial this to tempt a poet. Come! We shall complete each other, if you will. You'll walk, and I'll be near you in the shade! I'll be the breath, and you shall be the form!
CHRISTIAN.
But that letter she expects. I cannot write it....
CYRANO (taking from his doublet the letter he wrote a while before).
Your letter?.... Here it is!
CHRISTIAN.
How is this?
CYRANO.
It lacks nothing but the address. You may send it. Feel no anxiety. It is as it should be.
CHRISTIAN.
But how is it that you?....
CYRANO.
We poets have about us, as a rule, Fine letters to the women we adore.... In our dreams. For we belong to those Whose love is but a fleeting fancy blown Into the rainbow-bubble of a name! Take this and make a truth of what is feigned. My rambling words of rapture flutter like Bewildered birds; you'll cause them to alight. The letter shows, itself—now take it!—that My eloquence was born of artifice.
CHRISTIAN.
But there may be a few words to change. Thus, written at random, will it fit Roxane?
CYRANO.
It will fit her like a glove! Human vanity is so credulous that Roxane will never doubt the letter was written for her!
CHRISTIAN.
You are my dearest friend!
(He throws himself into Cyrano's arms. They remain embracing.)