Cyrano de Bergerac

by Edmond Rostand

Translated by Brian Hooker

THE FIFTH ACT

Cyrano's Gazette

Fifteen years later, in 1655: The Park of the Convent occupied by the Ladies of the Cross, at Paris.

Magnificent foliage. To the Left, the House upon a broad Terrace at the head of a flight of steps, with several Doors opening upon the Terrace. In the centre of the scene an enormous Tree alone in the centre of a little open space. Toward the Right, in the foreground, among Boxwood Bushes, a semicircular Bench of stone.

All the way across the Background of the scene, an Avenue overarched by the chestnut trees, leading to the door of a Chapel on the Right, just visible among the branches of the trees. Beyond the double curtain of the trees, we catch a glimpse of bright lawns and shaded walks, masses of shrubbery; the perspective of the Park; the sky.

A little side door of the Chapel opens upon a Colonnade, garlanded with Autumnal vines, and disappearing on the Right behind the box-trees.

It is late October. Above the still living green of the turf all the foliage is red and yellow and brown. The evergreen masses of Box and Yew stand out darkly against this Autumnal coloring. A heap of dead leaves under every tree. The leaves are falling everywhere. They rustle underfoot along the walks; the Terrace and the Bench are half covered with them.

Before the Bench on the Right, on the side toward the Tree, is placed a tall embroidery frame and beside it a little Chair. Baskets filled with skeins of many-colored silks and balls of wool. Tapestry unfinished on the Frame.

At the Curtain Rise the nuns are coming and going across the Park; several of them are seated on the Bench around Mother Marguérite de Jesus. The leaves are falling.

[Scene I]

Sister Marthe

(To Mother Marguérite)

Sister Claire has been looking in the glass
At her new cap; twice!

Mother Marguérite

(To Sister Claire)

     It is very plain;
Very.

Sister Claire

  And Sister Marthe stole a plum
Out of the tart this morning!

Mother Marguérite

(To Sister Marthe)

       That was wrong;
Very wrong.

Sister Claire

   Oh, but such a little look!

Sister Marthe

Such a little plum!

Mother Marguérite

(Severely)

     I shall tell Monsieur
De Cyrano, this evening.

Sister Claire

       No! Oh, no!—
He will make fun of us.

Sister Marthe

      He will say nuns
Are so gay!

Sister Claire

   And so greedy!

Mother Marguérite

(Smiling)

       And so good ...

Sister Claire

It must be ten years, Mother Marguérite,
That he has come here every Saturday,
Is it not?

Mother Marguérite

   More than ten years; ever since
His cousin came to live among us here—
Her worldly weeds among our linen veils,
Her widowhood and our virginity—
Like a black dove among white doves.

Sister Marthe

        No one
Else ever turns that happy sorrow of hers
Into a smile.

All the Nuns

   He is such fun!—He makes us
Almost laugh!—And he teases everyone—
And pleases everyone— And we all love him—
And he likes our cake, too—

Sister Marthe

      I am afraid
He is not a good Catholic.

Sister Claire

        Some day
We shall convert him.

The Nuns

     Yes—yes!

Mother Marguérite

       Let him be;
I forbid you to worry him. Perhaps
He might stop coming here.

Sister Marthe

      But... God?

Mother Marguérite

        You need not
Be afraid. God knows all about him.

Sister Marthe

         Yes ...
But every Saturday he says to me,
Just as if he were proud of it: "Well, Sister,
I ate meat yesterday!"

Mother Marguérite

      He tells you so?
The last time he said that, he had not eaten
Anything, for two days.

Sister Marthe

      Mother!—

Mother Marguérite

        He is poor;
Very poor.

Sister Marthe

   Who said so?

Mother Marguérite

      Monsieur Le Bret.

Sister Marthe

Why does not someone help him?

Mother Marguérite

       He would be
Angry; very angry ...

(Between the trees up stage, Roxane appears, all in black, with a widow's cap and long veils. De Guiche, magnificently grown old, walks beside her. They move slowly. Mother Marguérite rises.)

      Let us go in—
Madame Madeleine has a visitor.

Sister Marthe

(To Sister Claire)

The Duc de Grammont, is it not? The Marshal?

Sister Claire

(Looks toward De Guiche.)

I think so—yes.

Sister Marthe

    He has not been to see her
For months—

The Nuns

  He is busy—the Court!—the Camp!—

Sister Claire

         The world! ...

(They go out. De Guiche and Roxane come down in silence, and stop near the embroidery frame. Pause.)

[Scene II]

de Guiche

And you remain here, wasting all that gold—
For ever in mourning?

Roxane

      For ever.

de Guiche

        And still faithful?

Roxane

And still faithful...

de Guiche

(After a pause)

    Have you forgiven me?

Roxane

(Simply, looking up at the cross of the Convent)

I am here.

(Another pause)

de Guiche

  Was Christian ... all that?

Roxane

       If you knew him.

de Guiche

Ah? We were not precisely ... intimate ...
And his last letter—always at your heart?

Roxane

It hangs here, like a holy reliquary.

de Guiche

Dead—and you love him still!

Roxane

      Sometimes I think
He has not altogether died; our hearts
Meet, and his love flows all around me, living.

de Guiche

(After another pause)

You see Cyrano often?

Roxane

       Every week.
My old friend takes the place of my Gazette,
Brings me all the news. Every Saturday,
Under that tree where you are now, his chair
Stands, if the day be fine. I wait for him,
Embroidering; the hour strikes; then I hear,
(I need not turn to look!) at the last stroke,
His cane tapping the steps. He laughs at me
For my eternal needlework. He tells
The story of the past week—

(Le Bret appears on the steps.)

       There's Le Bret!—

(Le Bret approaches.)

How is it with our friend?

Le Bret

      Badly.

de Guiche

        Indeed?

Roxane

(To De Guiche)

Oh, he exaggerates!

Le Bret

      Just as I said—
Loneliness, misery—I told him so!—
His satires make a host of enemies—
He attacks the false nobles, the false saints,
The false heroes, the false artists—in short,
Everyone!

Roxane

   But they fear that sword of his—
No one dare touch him!

de Guiche

(With a shrug)

     H'm—that may be so.

Le Bret

It is not violence I fear for him,
But solitude—poverty—old gray December,
Stealing on wolf's feet, with a wolf's green eyes,
Into his darkening room. Those bravoes yet
May strike our Swordsman down! Every day now,
He draws his belt up one hole; his poor nose
Looks like old ivory; he has one coat
Left—his old black serge.

de Guiche

     That is nothing strange
In this world! No, you need not pity him
Overmuch.

Le Bret

(With a bitter smile)

   My lord Marshal! ...

de Guiche

       I say, do not
Pity him overmuch. He lives his life,
His own life, his own way—thought, word, and deed
Free!

Le Bret

(As before)

 My lord Duke! ...

de Guiche

(Haughtily)

    Yes, I know—I have all;
He has nothing. Nevertheless, to-day
I should be proud to shake his hand ...

(Saluting Roxane.)

        Adieu.

Roxane

I will go with you.

(De Guiche salutes Le Bret, and turns with Roxane toward the steps.)

de Guiche

(Pauses on the steps, as she climbs.)

     Yes— I envy him
Now and then ...

   Do you know, when a man wins
Everything in this world, when he succeeds
Too much—he feels, having done nothing wrong
Especially, Heaven knows!—he feels somehow
A thousand small displeasures with himself,
Whose whole sum is not quite Remorse, but rather
A sort of vague disgust ... The ducal robes
Mounting up, step by step, to pride and power,
Somewhere among their folds draw after them
A rustle of dry illusions, vain regrets,
As your veil, up the stairs here, draws along
The whisper of dead leaves.

Roxane

(Ironical)

      The sentiment
Does you honor.

de Guiche

    Oh, yes ...

(Pausing suddenly.)

      Monsieur Le Bret!—

(To Roxane)

You pardon us?—

(He goes to Le Bret, and speaks in a low tone.)

    One moment— It is true
That no one dares attack your friend. Some people
Dislike him, none the less. The other day
At Court, such a one said to me: "This man
Cyrano may die—accidentally."

Le Bret

(Coldly)

Thank you.

de Guiche

  You may thank me. Keep him at home
All you can. Tell him to be careful.

Le Bret

(Shaking his hands to heaven.)

        Careful!—
He is coming here. I'll warn him—yes, but I ...

Roxane

(Still on the steps, to a Nun who approaches her)

         Here
I am—what is it?

The Nun

     Madame, Ragueneau
Wishes to see you.

Roxane

     Bring him here.

(To Le Bret and De Guiche)

        He comes
For sympathy—having been first of all
A Poet, he became since then, in turn,
A Singer—

Le Bret

   Bath-house keeper—

Roxane

       Sacristan—

Le Bret

Actor—

Roxane

  Hairdresser—

Le Bret

     Music-master—

Roxane

         Now,
To-day—

Ragueneau

(Enters hurriedly.)

  Madame!—

(He sees Le Bret.)

    Monsieur!—

Roxane

(Smiling)

      First tell your troubles
To Le Bret for a moment.

Ragueneau

       But Madame—

(She goes out, with De Guiche, not hearing him. Ragueneau comes to Le Bret.)

[Scene III]

After all, I had rather— You are here—
She need not know so soon— I went to see him
Just now— Our friend— As I came near his door,
I saw him coming out I hurried on
To join him. At the corner of the street,
As he passed— Could it be an accident?—
I wonder!—At the window overhead,
A lackey with a heavy log of wood
Let it fall—

Le Bret

   Cyrano!

Ragueneau

      I ran to him—

Le Bret

God! The cowards!

Ragueneau

    I found him lying there—
A great hole in his head—

Le Bret

      Is he alive?

Ragueneau

Alive—yes. But... I had to carry him
Up to his room—Dieu! Have you seen his room?—

Le Bret

Is he suffering?

Ragueneau

     No; unconscious.

Le Bret

        Did you
Call a doctor?

Ragueneau

    One came—for charity.

Le Bret

Poor Cyrano!—We must not tell Roxane
All at once ... Did the doctor say?—

Ragueneau

        He said
Fever, and lesions of the— I forget
Those long names— Ah, if you had seen him there,
His head all white bandages!—Let us go
Quickly—there is no one to care for him—
All alone— If he tries to raise his head,
He may die!

Le Bret

(Draws him away to the Right,)

   This way— It is shorter—through
The Chapel—

Roxane

(Appears on the stairway, and calls to Le -Bret as he is going out by the colonnade which leads to the small door of the Chapel.)

   Monsieur Le Bret!—

(Le Bret and Ragueneau rush off without hearing.)

[Scene IV]

       Running away
When I call to him? Poor dear Ragueneau
Must have been very tragic!

(She comes slowly down the stair, toward the tree.)

       What a day! ...
Something in these bright Autumn afternoons
Happy and yet regretful—an old sorrow
Smiling ... as though poor little April dried
Her tears long ago—and remembered ...

(She sits down at her work. Two Nuns come out of the house carrying a great chair and set it under the tree.)

         Ah—
The old chair, for my old friend!—

Sister Marthe

       The best one
In our best parlor!—

Roxane

     Thank you, Sister—

(The Nuns withdraw.)

         There—

(She begins embroidering. The clock strikes.)

The hour!—He will be coming now—my silks—
All done striking? He never was so late
Before! The sister at the door—my thimble ...
Here it is—she must be exhorting him
To repent all his sins ...

(A pause)

      He ought to be
Converted, by this time— Another leaf—

(A dead leaf falls on her work; she brushes it away.)

Certainly nothing could—my scissors—ever
Keep him away—

A Nun

(Appears on the steps.)

    Monsieur de Bergerac.

[Scene V]

Roxane

(Without turning)

What was I saying? ... Hard, sometimes, to match
These faded colors! ...

(While she goes on working, Cyrano appears at the top of the steps, very pale, his hat drawn over his eyes. The Nun who has brought him in goes away. He begins to descend the steps leaning on his cane, and holding himself on his feet only by an evident effort. Roxane turns to him, with a tone of friendly banter.)

     After fourteen years,
Late—for the first time!

Cyrano

(Reaches the chair, and sinks into it; his gay tone contrasting with his tortured face.)

     Yes, yes—maddening!
I was detained by—

Roxane

     Well?

Cyrano

      A visitor,
Most unexpected.

Roxane

(Carelessly, still sewing)

     Was your visitor
Tiresome?

Cyrano

  Why, hardly that—inopportune,
Let us say—an old friend of mine—at least
A very old acquaintance.

Roxane

      Did you tell him
To go away?

Cyrano

    For the time being, yes.
I said: "Excuse me—this is Saturday—
I have a previous engagement, one
I cannot miss, even for you— Come back
An hour from now."

Roxane

    Your friend will have to wait;
I shall not let you go till dark.

Cyrano

(Very gently)

        Perhaps
A little before dark, I must go ...

(He leans back in the chair, and closes his eyes. Sister Marthe crosses above the stairway. Roxane sees her, motions her to wait, then turns to Cyrano.)

Roxane

         Look—
Somebody waiting to be teased.

Cyrano

(Quickly, opens his eyes.)

        Of course!

(In a big, comic voice)

Sister, approach!

(Sister Marthe glides toward him.)

    Beautiful downcast eyes!—
So shy—

Sister Marthe

(Looks up, smiling.)

  You—

(She sees his face.)

   Oh!—

Cyrano

(Indicates Roxane.)

    Sh!—Careful!

(Resumes his burlesque tone.)

       Yesterday,
I ate meat again!

Sister Marthe

     Yes, I know.

(Aside)

       That is why
He looks so pale ...

(To him: low and quickly)

    In the refectory,
Before you go—come to me there—

      I'll make you
A great bowl of hot soup—will you come?

Cyrano

(Boisterously)

         Ah—
Will I come!

Sister Marthe

   You are quite reasonable
To-day!

Roxane

  Has she converted you?

Sister Marthe

        Oh, no—
Not for the world!—

Cyrano

    Why, now I think of it,
That is so— You, bursting with holiness,
And yet you never preach! Astonishing
I call it ...

(With burlesque ferocity)

   Ah—now I'll astonish you—
I am going to—

(With the air of seeking for a good joke and finding it)

     —let you pray for me
To-night, at vespers!

Roxane

     Aha!

Cyrano

       Look at her—
Absolutely struck dumb!

Sister Marthe

(Gently)

      I did not wait
For you to say I might.

(She goes out.)

Cyrano

(Returns to Roxane, who is bending over her work.)

      Now, may the devil
Admire me, if I ever hope to see
The end of that embroidery!

Roxane

(Smiling)

        I thought
It was time you said that.

(A breath of wind causes a few leaves to fall.)

Cyrano

      The leaves—

Roxane

(Raises her head and looks away through the trees.)

        What color—
Perfect Venetian red! Look at them fall.

Cyrano

Yes—they know how to die. A little way
From the branch to the earth, a little fear
Of mingling with the common dust—and yet
They go down gracefully—a fail that seems
Like flying!

Roxane

   Melancholy—you?

Cyrano

        Why, no,
Roxane!

Roxane

  Then let the leaves fall. Tell me now
The Court news—my gazette!

Cyrano

      Let me see—

Roxane

         Ah!

Cyrano

(More and more pale, struggling against pain)

Saturday, the nineteenth; the King fell ill,
After eight helpings of grape marmalade.
His malady was brought before the court,
Found guilty of high treason; whereupon
His Majesty revived. The royal pulse
Is now normal. Sunday, the twentieth:
The Queen gave a grand ball, at which they burned
Seven hundred and sixty-three wax candles. Note:
They say our troops have been victorious
In Austria. Later: Three sorcerers
Have been hung. Special post: The little dog
Of Madame d'Athis was obliged to take
Four pills before—

Roxane

    Monsieur de Bergerac,
Will you kindly be quiet!

Cyrano

      Monday ... nothing.
Lygdamire has a new lover.

Roxane

       Oh!

Cyrano

(His face more and more altered)

        Tuesday,
The Twenty-second: All the court has gone
To Fontainebleau. Wednesday: The Comte de Fiesque
Spoke to Madame de Montglat; she said No.
Thursday: Mancini was the Queen of France
Or—very nearly! Friday: La Montglat
Said Yes. Saturday, twenty-sixth....

(His eyes close; his head sinks back; silence.)

Roxane

(Surprised at not bearing any more, turns, looks at him, and rises, frightened.)

        He has fainted—

(She runs to him, crying out.)

Cyrano!

Cyrano

(Opens his eyes.)

   What ... What is it? ...

(He sees Roxane leaning over him, and quickly pulls his hat down over his head and leans back away from her in the chair.)

       No—oh no—
It is nothing—truly!

Roxane

      But—

Cyrano

       My old wound—
At Arras—sometimes—you know.

Roxane

       My poor friend!

Cyrano

Oh it is nothing; it will soon be gone....

(Forcing a smile)

There! It is gone!

Roxane

(Standing close to him)

      We all have our old wounds—
I have mine—here ...

(Her hand at her breast)

    under this faded scrap
Of writing.... It is hard to read now—all
But the blood—and the tears....

(Twilight begins to fall.)

Cyrano

      His letter! ... Did you
Not promise me that some day ... that some day....
You would let me read it?

Roxane

      His letter?—You ...
You wish—

Cyrano

  I do wish it—to-day.

Roxane

(Gives him the little silken bag from around her neck.)

         Here....

Cyrano

May I ... open it?

Roxane

     Open it, and read.

(She goes back to her work, folds it again, rearranges her silks.)

Cyrano

(Unfolds the letter; reads.)

"Farewell Roxane, because to-day I die—"

Roxane

(Looks up, surprised.)

Aloud?

Cyrano

(Reads)

  "I know that it will be to-day,
My own dearly beloved—and my heart
Still so heavy with love I have not told,
And I die without telling you! No more
Shall my eyes drink the sight of you like wine,
Never more, with a look that is a kiss,
Follow the sweet grace of you— "

Roxane

      How you read it—
His letter!

Cyrano

(Continues)

   "I remember now the way
You have, of pushing back a lock of hair
With one hand, from your forehead—and my heart
Cries out—"

Roxane

  His letter ... and you read it so ...

(The darkness increases imperceptibly.)

Cyrano

"Cries out and keeps crying: 'Farewell, my dear,
My dearest—'"

Roxane

   In a voice....

Cyrano

      "—My own heart's own,
My own treasure—"

Roxane

(Dreamily)

    In such a voice, ...

Cyrano

        —"My love—"

Roxane

—As I remember hearing ...

(She trembles.)

       —long ago....

(She comes near him, softly, without his seeing her; passes the chair, leans over silently, looking at the letter. The darkness increases.)

Cyrano

"—I am never away from you. Even now,
I shall not leave you. In another world,
I shall be still that one who loves you, loves you
Beyond measure, beyond— "

Roxane

(Lays her hand on his shoulder.)

      How can you read
Now? It is dark....

(He starts, turns, and sees her there close to him. A little movement of surprise, almost of fear; then he bows his head. A long pause; then in the twilight now completely fallen, she says very softly, clasping her hands)

    And all these fourteen years,
He has been the old friend, who came to me
To be amusing.

Cyrano

     Roxane!—

Roxane

       It was you.

Cyrano

No, no, Roxane, no!

Roxane

     And I might have known,
Every time that I heard you speak my name! ...

Cyrano

No— It was not I—

Roxane

     It was ... you!

Cyrano

        I swear—

Roxane

I understand everything now: The letters—
That was you ...

Cyrano

   No!

Roxane

    And the dear, foolish words—
That was you...

Cyrano

   No!

Roxane

    And the voice ... in the dark....
That was ... you!

Cyrano

   On my honor—

Roxane

       And ... the Soul!—
That was all you.

Cyrano

    I never loved you—

Roxane

         Yes,
You loved me.

Cyrano

(Desperately)

   No— He loved you—

Roxane

       Even now,
You love me!

Cyrano

(His voice weakens.)

   No!

Roxane

(Smiling)

    And why ... so great a "No"?

Cyrano

No, no, my own dear love, I love you not! ...

(Pause)

Roxane

How many things have died ... and are newborn! ...
Why were you silent for so many years,
All the while, every night and every day,
He gave me nothing—you knew that— You knew
Here, in this letter lying on my breast,
Your tears— You knew they were your tears—

Cyrano

(Holds the letter out to her.)

        The blood
Was his.

Roxane

  Why do you break that silence now,
To-day?

Cyrano

  Why? Oh, because—

(Le Bret and Ragueneau enter, running.)

[Scene VI]

Le Bret

      What recklessness—
I knew it! He is here!

Cyrano

(Smiling, and trying to rise)

      Well? Here I am!

Ragueneau

He has killed himself, Madame, coming here!

Roxane

He— Oh, God.... And that faintness ... was that?—

Cyrano

         No,
Nothing! I did not finish my Gazette—
Saturday, twenty-sixth: An hour or so
Before dinner, Monsieur de Bergerac
Died, foully murdered.

(He uncovers his head, and shows it swathed in bandages.)

Roxane

     Oh, what does he mean?—
Cyrano!— What have they done to you?—

Cyrano

        "Struck down
By the sword of a hero, let me fall—
Steel in my heart, and laughter on my lips!"
Yes, I said that once. How Fate loves a jest!—
Behold me ambushed—taken in the rear—
My battlefield a gutter—my noble foe
A lackey, with a log of wood! ...

        It seems
Too logical— I have missed everything,
Even my death!

Ragueneau

(Breaks down.)

    Ah, monsieur!—

Cyrano

       Ragueneau,
Stop blubbering!

(Takes his hand.)

    What are you writing nowadays,
Old poet?

Ragueneau

(Through his tears)

   I am not a poet now;
I snuff the—light the candles—for Molière!

Cyrano

Oh—Molière!

Ragueneau

   Yes, but I am leaving him
To-morrow. Yesterday they played "Scapin"—
He has stolen your scene—

Le Bret

    The whole scene—word for word!

Ragueneau

Yes: "What the devil was he doing there"—
That one!

Le Bret

(Furious)

And Molière stole it all from you—
Bodily!—

Cyrano

   Bah— He showed good taste....

(To Ragueneau)

        The Scene
Went well? ...

Ragueneau

  Ah, monsieur, they laughed—and laughed—
How they did laugh!

Cyrano

     Yes—that has been my life....
Do you remember that night Christian spoke
Under your window? It was always so!
While I stood in the darkness underneath,
Others climbed up to win the applause—the kiss!—
Well—that seems only justice— I still say,
Even now, on the threshold of my tomb—
"Molière has genius—Christian had good looks—"

(The chapel bell is ringing. Along the avenue of trees above the stairway, the Nuns pass in procession to their prayers.)

They are going to pray now; there is the bell.

Roxane

(Raises herself and calls to them)

Sister!—Sister!—

Cyrano

(Holding on to her hand)

    No,—do not go away—
I may not still be here when you return....

(The Nuns have gone into the chapel. The organ begins to play.)

A little harmony is all I need—
Listen....

Roxane

  You shall not die! I love you!—

Cyrano

         No—
That is not in the story! You remember
When Beauty said "I love you" to the Beast
That was a fairy prince, his ugliness
Changed and dissolved, like magic.... But you see
I am still the same.

Roxane

     And I—I have done
This to you! All my fault—mine!

Cyrano

       You? Why no,
On the contrary! I had never known
Womanhood and its sweetness but for you.
My mother did not love to look at me—
I never had a sister— Later on,
I feared the mistress with a mockery
Behind her smile. But you—because of you
I have had one friend not quite all a friend—
Across my life, one whispering silken gown! ...

Le Bret

(Points to the rising moon which begins to shine down between the trees.)

Your other friend is looking at you.

Cyrano

(Smiling at the moon)

        I see....

Roxane

I never loved but one man in my life,
And I have lost him—twice....

Cyrano

Le Bret—I shall be up there presently
In the moon—without having to invent
Any flying machines!

Roxane

      What are you saying? ...

Cyrano

The moon—yes, that would be the place for me—
My kind of paradise! I shall find there
Those other souls who should be friends of mine—
Socrates—Galileo—

Le Bret

(Revolting)

       No! No! No!
It is too idiotic—too unfair—
Such a friend—such a poet—such a man
To die so—to die so!—

Cyrano

(Affectionately)

      There goes Le Bret,
Growling!

Le Bret

(Breaks down.)

  My friend!—

Cyrano

(Half raises himself, his eye wanders.)

    The Cadets of Gascoyne,
The Defenders.... The elementary mass—
Ah—there's the point! Now, then ...

Le Bret

      Delirious—
And all that learning—

Cyrano

     On the other hand,
We have Copernicus—

Roxane

      Oh!

Cyrano

(More and more delirious)

       "Very well,
But what the devil was he doing there?—
What the devil was he doing there, up there?" ...

(He declaims)

Philosopher and scientist,
Poet, musician, duellist—
He flew high, and fell back again!
A pretty wit—whose like we lack—
A lover ... not like other men, ...
Here lies Hercule-Savinien
De Cyrano de Bergerac—
Who was all things—and all in vain!

Well, I must go—pardon— I cannot stay!
My moonbeam comes to carry me away....

(He falls back into the chair, half fainting. The sobbing of Roxane recalls him to reality. Gradually his mind comes back to him. He looks at her, stroking the veil that hides her hair.)

I would not have you mourn any the less
That good, brave, noble Christian; but perhaps—
I ask you only this—when the great cold
Gathers around my bones, that you may give
A double meaning to your widow's weeds
And the tears you let fall for him may be
For a little—my tears....

Roxane

(Sobbing)

     Oh, my love! ...

Cyrano

(Suddenly shaken as with a fever fit, he raises himself erect and pushes her away.)

        —Not here!—
Not lying down! ...

(They spring forward to help him; he motions them back.)

   Let no one help me—no one!—
Only the tree....

(He sets his back against the trunk. Pause.)

    It is coming ... I feel
Already shod with marble ... gloved with lead ...

(Joyously)

Let the old fellow come now! He shall find me
On my feet—sword in hand—

(Draws his sword.)

Le Bret

      Cyrano!—

Roxane

(Half fainting)

         Oh,
Cyrano!

Cyrano

   I can see him there—he grins—
He is looking at my nose—that skeleton —
What's that you say? Hopeless?—Why, very well!—
But a man does not fight merely to win!
No—no—better to know one fights in vain! ...
You there— Who are you? A hundred against one—
I know them now, my ancient enemies—

(He lunges at the empty air.)

Falsehood! ... There! There! Prejudice— Compromise—
Cowardice—

(Thrusting)

   What's that? No! Surrender? No!
Never—never! ...

    Ah, you too, Vanity!
I knew you would overthrow me in the end—
No! I fight on! I fight on! I fight on!

(He swings the blade in great circles, then pauses, gasping. When he speaks again, it is in another tone.)

Yes, all my laurels you have riven away
And all my roses; yet in spite of you,
There is one crown I bear away with me,
And to-night, when I enter before God,
My salute shall sweep all the stars away
From the blue threshold! One thing without stain,
Unspotted from the world, in spite of doom
Mine own!—

(He springs forward, his sword aloft.)

  And that is ...

(The sword escapes from his hand; he totters, and falls into the arms of Le Bret and Ragueneau .)

Roxane

(Bends over him and kisses him on the forehead.)

     —That is ...

Cyrano

(Opens his eyes and smiles up at her.)

       My white plume....

(Curtain)

THE END


Monadnock Valley Press > Rostand > Cyrano de Bergerac