Cyrano de Bergerac By Edmond Rostand Act III — Scenes 5-7

Act III. Scene 6

Christian, Cyrano, two pages.

CHRISTIAN: Come to my aid!

CYRANO: Not I!

CHRISTIAN: But I shall die, Unless at once I win back her fair favor.

CYRANO: And how can I, at once, i' th' devil's name, Lesson you in . . .

CHRISTIAN (seizing his arm): Oh, she is there!

(The window of the balcony is now lighted up.)

CYRANO (moved): Her window!

CHRISTIAN: Oh! I shall die!

CYRANO: Speak lower!

CHRISTIAN (in a whisper): I shall die!

CYRANO: The night is dark . . .

CHRISTIAN: Well!

CYRANO: All can be repaired. Although you merit not. Stand there, poor wretch! Fronting the balcony! I'll go beneath And prompt your words to you . . .

CHRISTIAN: But . . .

CYRANO: Hold your tongue!

THE PAGES (reappearing at back — to Cyrano): Ho!

CYRANO: Hush!

(He signs to them to speak softly.)

FIRST PAGE (in a low voice): We've played the serenade you bade To Montfleury!

CYRANO (quickly, in a low voice): Go! lurk in ambush there, One at this street corner, and one at that; And if a passer-by should here intrude, Play you a tune!

SECOND PAGE: What tune, Sir Gassendist?

CYRANO: Gay, if a woman comes, — for a man, sad! (The pages disappear, one at each street corner. To Christian): Call her!

CHRISTIAN: Roxane!

CYRANO (picking up stones and throwing them at the window): Some pebbles! wait awhile!

ROXANE (half-opening the casement): Who calls me?

CHRISTIAN: I!

ROXANE: Who's that?

CHRISTIAN: Christian!

ROXANE (disdainfully): Oh! you?

CHRISTIAN: I would speak with you.

CYRANO (under the balcony — to Christian): Good. Speak soft and low.

ROXANE: No, you speak stupidly!

CHRISTIAN: Oh, pity me!

ROXANE: No! you love me no more!

CHRISTIAN (prompted by Cyrano): You say — Great Heaven! I love no more? — when — I — love more and more!

ROXANE (who was about to shut the casement, pausing): Hold! 'tis a trifle better! ay, a trifle!

CHRISTIAN (same play): Love grew apace, rocked by the anxious beating . . . Of this poor heart, which the cruel wanton boy . . . Took for a cradle!

ROXANE (coming out on to the balcony): That is better! But An if you deem that Cupid be so cruel You should have stifled baby-love in's cradle!

CHRISTIAN (same play): Ah, Madame, I assayed, but all in vain This . . . new-born babe is a young . . . Hercules!

ROXANE: Still better!

CHRISTIAN (same play): Thus he strangled in my heart The . . . serpents twain, of . . . Pride . . . and Doubt!

ROXANE (leaning over the balcony): Well said! — But why so faltering? Has mental palsy Seized on your faculty imaginative?

CYRANO (drawing Christian under the balcony, and slipping into his place): Give place! This waxes critical! . . .

ROXANE: To-day . . . Your words are hesitating.

CYRANO (imitating Christian — in a whisper): Night has come . . . In the dusk they grope their way to find your ear.

ROXANE: But my words find no such impediment.

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As Cyrano writes a love letter to Roxane, he does not sign it because




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