Act 3 — SCENE VI.
Charles Renauld translation
CHRISTIAN, CYRANO, THE PAGES, a moment.
CHRISTIAN.
Help! help!
CYRANO.
No, Sir!
CHRISTIAN.
I'll die if she does not this moment relent....
CYRANO.
What can I do? This very moment drum into you....
CHRISTIAN (clasping Cyrano's arm).
See! There she comes!
(Light in the balcony window.)
CYRANO (moved).
Her window!
CHRISTIAN.
Help me! Or I'll die!
CYRANO.
Speak lower!
CHRISTIAN (whispering).
It is life or death to me!
CYRANO.
The night is dark....
CHRISTIAN.
Well, speak!
CYRANO.
The harm can be undone. You do not deserve it, you wretch!....but stand there before the balcony! I'll remain beneath it—and prompt you!
CHRISTIAN.
But, my friend....
CYRANO.
Obey orders!
THE PAGES (in the rear, to Cyrano).
Hep!
CYRANO (silencing them).
Hush!
FIRST PAGE (in a whisper).
We have serenaded Montfleury.
CYRANO (in a whisper, quickly to Pages).
You, stand on this corner....and you, on that one. If anyone comes along, play an air.
SECOND PAGE.
What sort of air would suit Gassendi?
CYRANO.
Lively for a woman; for a man a sad one!
(Pages disappear, taking two different streets.)
(To Christian) Now, call her!
CHRISTIAN (calling).
Roxane.
CYRANO (picking up a few pebbles that he throws against the window).
Wait! A few pebbles.
ROXANE (half opening her window).
Who calls me?
CHRISTIAN.
I.
ROXANE.
Who is I?
CHRISTIAN.
I, Christian.
ROXANE (scornfully).
Oh! you!
CHRISTIAN.
I must speak to you.
CYRANO (under the balcony, to Christian).
Good! Lower your voice.
ROXANE.
No! You speak too clumsily. Better go!
CHRISTIAN.
Be pitiful!....
ROXANE.
No! You love me no more!
CHRISTIAN (prompted by Cyrano).
You accuse me....merciful Gods!....of loving no more....when....I love more!
ROXANE (stopping as she was going to close the window).
Why! you are improving.
CHRISTIAN (still prompted).
Love grows stronger in the restless soul—mine—that he has chosen....cruel child!....for a cradle!
ROXANE (coming out on the balcony).
Better still!....But, since this love is so cruel, you were foolish, indeed, not to smother it at its birth!
CHRISTIAN (prompted).
I tried....but without success: this new-born babe, Madam, is a little Hercules.
ROXANE.
Still better!
CHRISTIAN (prompted).
In fact, he....strangled without an effort....two serpents....Pride and....Doubt....
ROXANE (leaning on the balcony railing).
Very good indeed! But why do you speak so....deliberately? Has your imagination the gout, that it limps so?
CYRANO (drawing Christian under the balcony, and noiselessly taking Christian's place before it).
Hush! The task is getting too difficult!....
ROXANE.
To-night you waver in your speech. Why so?
CYRANO (speaking in a low tone as Christian did before him).
Because night has come, and, in the dark, my words must wander in search of your ear.
ROXANE.
But my words meet with no such difficulty.
CYRANO.
Yours find a resting-place immediately. Oh! very naturally, since I receive them into my heart. Remember that my heart is large, while your ear is very small. Moreover, your words descend! thus have they speed. While mine must rise, Madam: they require more time!
ROXANE.
But they have been rising much better for the last few moments.
CYRANO.
They are getting trained to climbing!
ROXANE.
The fact is that I am speaking to you from quite a height!
CYRANO.
Assuredly, and you would kill me if, from such an elevation, you allowed a sharp word to drop upon my heart!
ROXANE (moved).
I'll come down.
CYRANO (quickly).
No!
ROXANE (pointing to the stone bench under the balcony).
Step upon the bench, then, and climb up here!
CYRANO (frightened and retreating).
No!
ROXANE.
You surprise me.... Why not?
CYRANO (more and more moved).
Let us rather improve.... this opportunity of.... speaking softly together.... without seeing each other.
ROXANE.
What! To each other almost invisible?
CYRANO.
As now.—Let us enjoy the bliss there is In seeking to distinguish one the other. For you, I'm but the darkness of a cloak; For me, you are the whiteness of a robe. I'm shadow only, you are blessèd light!
If ever you have thought me eloquent....
ROXANE.
I have.
CYRANO.
Remember now that my words never yet came from my true heart.
ROXANE.
Why not?
CYRANO.
Because.... until now.... I have spoken to you through....
ROXANE.
Through what?
CYRANO.
The spell that you cast upon those who bask in the light of your eyes!.... And so, this night, to me it seems as if I were about to speak to you for the first time!
ROXANE.
Ah! that is why your voice seems different.
CYRANO (feverish, and coming up closer to the balcony).
Yes, different; for, now that darkness shields me, I dare to be myself at last, I dare....
(He stops, bewildered.)
Where was I?.... I forget.... Pardon my confusion.... All this is so exquisite.... so new to me!....
ROXANE.
So new!
CYRANO (quite bewildered, and trying to explain).
So new!.... Why! yes.... It's new to be sincere. And then.... a fear of ridicule....
ROXANE.
Ridicule? For what?
CYRANO.
My emotional flights!
My heart, through diffidence, forever calls Upon my mind to shield it from disdain: I start to cull a star, and then I halt, For fear of ridicule, to pick a floret.
ROXANE.
A floret has its charms.
CYRANO.
Disdain them now!
ROXANE.
You never spoke to me as now you speak!
CYRANO.
Oh! let us set aside the pygmy things, The superannuated niceties Of love as it is understood to-day! Why sip by drops the waters of a spring, When from a river we can freely quaff?
ROXANE.
But mind and wit?
CYRANO.
They serve to make you stay. But now 'twould be an insult to the night, To fragrance, and to fate, and nature too, If we should hold unto affected style. One look above, and artifice disarms! I fear that, with this subtle alchemy, The truth of sentiment might vapourise, The soul exhaust itself in futile play, And niceties be carried to a point So pointed that it end in nothingness!
ROXANE.
But mind and wit?
CYRANO.
I hate them now. It is A crime to force sweet love to bandy words! There comes a time, moreover, be assured— Oh! how I pity those who feel it not!— When our breast o'erflows with noble love, A love that pretty words must desecrate!
ROXANE.
Since now for both of us the time has come, What words shall I expect from you?
CYRANO.
All, all, All those I know; accept them scattered loose, Unsought, unbound. I love you—let me breathe!— I love thee[20], and I rave. 'Tis joy too much! Thy name is in my heart as in a bell, Roxane, and, as my heart forever throbs, The bell is e'er the sounder of thy name. Of thee there's nought I do not hoard and love: I mind me that, last year, the twelfth of May, A twist was changed in what's a crown, thy hair! Thy glowing hair to me is truly light. When we have gazed too long upon the sun, We see on things around a halo reign; 'Tis thus when I have lost the light thou shedst: My dazzled eyes are filled with golden sparks!
ROXANE.
Yes, this is love—
CYRANO.
The passion in my heart Is jealous, fierce, with sadness tainted, but It's really love—love shorn of selfish thought. Would I could give my happiness for thine— E'en shouldst thou ne'er suspect whose gift it was— If I could hear, perchance and from afar, The music of thy bliss, my offering! From every glance of thine fresh virtue springs, Fresh valour, too. Oh! say I'm understood, And that thou feelst my soul ascend to thee! All is to-night too beautiful and sweet! And still it's true! I speak, at last, to thee. Yes, I to thee! 'Tis bliss too great! My hopes, My wildest hopes ne'er leaped to such a height; My dream's no dream, and I can die content. Because of me she quivers with the trees! For, leaf divine, you tremble with the leaves! Thou tremblest, for, against thy will or not, I feel, oh, bliss! the tremour of thy hand Descending now along these flowery vines.
(He imprints a passionate kiss upon one of the branches.)
ROXANE.
I tremble, yes; I weep, I love, I'm thine! I am enthralled!
CYRANO.
May Death then come along, Since rapture's born of me, of me alone! What more can I expect of life?—
CHRISTIAN (under the balcony).
A kiss!
ROXANE (falling back).
What?
CYRANO.
Oh!
ROXANE.
You claim?—
CYRANO.
Yes—I—
(aside to Christian).
You go too far.
CHRISTIAN (aside to Cyrano).
Now she is moved, it's time for me to act.
CYRANO (to Roxane).
Yes, I.... I asked.... it is true.... but now I realise how more than bold I was.
ROXANE (somewhat disappointed).
And you do not insist?
CYRANO.
Insist? Of course I do.... but with reserve!.... Yes, I know your modesty's offended. So, I withdraw the kiss.... refuse it to me!
CHRISTIAN (with a tug at Cyrano's cloak).
Why so?
CYRANO.
Be silent, Christian!
ROXANE (leaning over the balcony).
What are you muttering?
CYRANO.
I was reproving myself for going too far. I was saying: be silent Christian!....
(sound of archlute.)
One moment please!.... Some one comes.
(Roxane closes her window. Cyrano listens to the archlutes; one of them plays a lively air, and the other a sad one.)
Lively?.... Sad?.... A woman or a man? No, a monk!
(Enter monk holding a lighted lantern. He goes from house to house, looking at the doors.)