Act 4 — SCENE III.
Charles Renauld translation
The same, CYRANO.
CYRANO (leaving his tent, perfectly tranquil, a pen over his ear, book in hand).
Hey!....
(Silence. To the first Cadet).
What makes you drag your feet along so?
THE CADET.
Something in my heels that should not be there!....
CYRANO.
What's that?
THE CADET.
My stomach!
CYRANO.
Mine's the same. What of it?
THE CADET.
Isn't it inconvenient?
CYRANO.
No, it heightens me.
SECOND CADET.
My teeth are very long.
CYRANO.
Well, you can bite off a larger piece.
ANOTHER CADET.
My skin sounds empty.
CYRANO.
We'll use it as a drum, for the charge.
ANOTHER CADET.
There is a humming in my ears.
CYRANO.
Not that; an empty stomach has no ears. Impossible!
OTHER CADET.
Oh! for something to eat,—with good oil!
CYRANO (taking off the helmet of the Cadet, in whose hand he places it).
Eat your salad.
ANOTHER CADET.
What could we find to devour?
CYRANO (throwing to him the book he holds in his hand).
The Iliad!
OTHER CADET.
Meanwhile, the Minister in Paris has his four meals a day!
CYRANO.
He ought certainly to send you at least a partridge.
SAME CADET.
Why not? And some wine with it too!
CYRANO.
Richelieu, some Burgundy, if you please!
SAME CADET.
By one of his capuchins!
CYRANO.
The Grey Eminence is so intoxicating!
OTHER CADET.
I'm as hungry as a bear!
CYRANO.
Well, bear it![23]
FIRST CADET (shrugging his shoulders).
Forever words, a point!
CYRANO.
A point and words! 'Tis true; and I should like to die—at eve, The sky aglow—as the defender of A noble cause, a soldier and a poet too, With, on my lips, the thrill of daring words, And in my heart a sword's ennobling point!
ALL.
We're hungry!
CYRANO (crossing his arms).
So—you think of naught but food! Come up here, then, Bertrandou, with your fife. Seek shepherds' notes, and let these gluttons feast Upon some old and ne'er forgotten tune Each sound of which is like a sister's voice; An air that slowly winds its way aloft, As does the smoke from lowly cottage roofs, A lay of youth, of waiting hearts and home!
(Bertrandou prepares his fife.)
Let fife a while forget the battle note, Remembering that it was born a reed.
(Bertrandou begins playing some Gascony airs.)
Ye Gascons, list! 'Tis war no more, but peace. 'Tis hill and dale, 'tis wood and meadow-land, With red-capped lads beside their gentle herds; 'Tis smiling riverbank and sunny sea. O Gascons, hark! You are in Gascony!
(All have bowed their heads and are dreaming: many brush away a tear.)
CARBON (to Cyrano, aside).
But, instead of giving them courage, you make them weep!
CYRANO.
I've made them homesick!.... A noble sort of suffering .... nobler than hunger. It is a comfort to see their pain change organs, and pass from their stomachs to their hearts!
CARBON.
But you will weaken them!
CYRANO (motioning to a drummer to come up).
Never mind! The heroes' blood that is in them will soon arouse them!
(He motions to the drummer, who begins beating his drum.)
ALL THE CADETS (rushing to their arms).
Hey!.... What?.... What is it?....
CYRANO (smiling, to Carbon).
You see that, at the sound of the drum, dreams, longings, thoughts of home, of love,....all fly away. What comes by the fife goes by the drum.[24]
A CADET (from the rear).
Ha! ha! here is Monsieur de Guiche!
ALL THE CADETS (murmuring).
Hou....
CYRANO (smiling).
Quite complimentary!
A CADET.
He is a bore, with his lace collar over his armour. He comes here to exhibit himself!
OTHER CADET.
As if lace were in keeping with iron!
OTHER CADET.
Good if one has a boil on his neck!
OTHER CADET.
Too much of the courtier!
OTHER CADET.
The nephew of his uncle, the Cardinal.
CARBON.
And still he's a Gascon!
FIRST CADET.
Not a true one!....Beware! Because Gascons, you know, must be madcaps. There is nothing more dangerous than a reasonable Gascon.
LE BRET.
How pale he is!
A CADET.
He is hungry.... Just as much as we poor devils. But his breastplate gives a lustre to his cramps!
CYRANO (quickly).
We should not appear to suffer more than he does! Here! all of you, take up your cards, your pipes and your dice....
(They all rapidly begin playing, on benches, drums, or on their cloaks spread out on the ground, meanwhile lighting long pipes.)
.... and I ... will read Descartes.
(He walks up and down, reading a small book that he has taken out of his pocket.—Tableau.—Guiche enters; everybody seems busy and satisfied. He is very pale; goes up to Carbon.)