A Play in Five Acts
Translated from the French by Gladys Thomas and Mary F. Guillemard
CYRANO DE BERGERAC
CHRISTIAN DE NEUVILLETTE
COUNT DE GUICHE
CARBON DE CASTEL-JALOUX
A SECOND LACKEY
A SPANISH OFFICER
BERTRAND THE FIFER
THE PASTRY COOKS
The crowd, troopers, burghers (male and female), marquises, musketeers, pickpockets, pastry-cooks, poets, Gascons cadets, actors (male and female), violinists, pages, children, soldiers, Spaniards, spectators (male and female), precieuses, nuns, etc.
A Representation at the Hotel de Bourgogne.
The hall of the Hotel de Bourgogne, in 1640. A sort of tennis-court arranged and decorated for a theatrical performance.
The hall is oblong and seen obliquely, so that one of its sides forms the back of the right foreground, and meeting the left background makes an angle with the stage, which is partly visible.
On both sides of the stage are benches. The curtain is composed of two tapestries which can be drawn aside. Above a harlequin’s mantle are the royal arms. There are broad steps from the stage to the hall; on either side of these steps are the places for the violinists. Footlights.
Two rows, one over the other, of side galleries: the highest divided into boxes. No seats in the pit of the hall, which is the real stage of the theater; at the back of the pit, i.e., on the right foreground, some benches forming steps, and underneath, a staircase which leads to the upper seats. An improvised buffet ornamented with little lusters, vases, glasses, plates of tarts, cakes, bottles, etc.
The entrance to the theater is in the center of the background, under the gallery of the boxes. A large door, half open to let in the spectators. On the panels of this door, in different corners, and over the buffet, red placards bearing the words, ‘La Clorise.’
At the rising of the curtain the hall is in semi-darkness, and still empty. The lusters are lowered in the middle of the pit ready to be lighted.
The public, arriving by degrees. Troopers, burghers, lackeys, pages, a pickpocket, the doorkeeper, etc., followed by the marquises. Cuigy, Brissaille, the buffet-girl, the violinists, etc.
(A confusion of loud voices is heard outside the door. A trooper enters hastily.)
THE DOORKEEPER (following him):
Hollo! You there! Your money!
I enter gratis.
Why? I am of the King’s Household Cavalry, ‘faith!
THE DOORKEEPER (to another trooper who enters): And you?
I pay nothing.
I am a musketeer.
FIRST TROOPER (to the second):
The play will not begin till two. The pit is empty. Come, a bout with the foils to pass the time.
(They fence with the foils they have brought.)
A LACKEY (entering):
Pst. . .Flanquin. . .!
ANOTHER (already there):
Champagne?. . .
THE FIRST (showing him cards and dice which he takes from his doublet): See, here be cards and dice.
(He seats himself on the floor):
THE SECOND (doing the same):
Good; I am with you, villain!
FIRST LACKEY (taking from his pocket a candle-end, which he lights, and sticks on the floor):
I made free to provide myself with light at my master’s expense!
A GUARDSMAN (to a shop-girl who advances): ‘Twas prettily done to come before the lights were lit!
(He takes her round the waist.)
ONE OF THE FENCERS (receiving a thrust): A hit!
ONE OF THE CARD-PLAYERS:
THE GUARDSMAN (following the girl):
THE SHOP-GIRL (struggling to free herself): They’re looking!
THE GUARDSMAN (drawing her to a dark corner): No fear! No one can see!
A MAN (sitting on the ground with others, who have brought their provisions): By coming early, one can eat in comfort.
A BURGHER (conducting his son):
Let us sit here, son.
A MAN (taking a bottle from under his cloak, and also seating himself on the floor):
A tippler may well quaff his Burgundy (he drinks):
in the Burgundy Hotel!
THE BURGHER (to his son):
‘Faith! A man might think he had fallen in a bad house here! (He points with his cane to the drunkard): What with topers!
(One of the fencers in breaking off, jostles him): brawlers!
(He stumbles into the midst of the card-players): gamblers!
THE GUARDSMAN (behind him, still teasing the shop-girl): Come, one kiss!
THE BURGHER (hurriedly pulling his son away): By all the holies! And this, my boy, is the theater where they played Rotrou erewhile.
THE YOUNG MAN:
Ay, and Corneille!
A TROOP OF PAGES (hand-in-hand, enter dancing the farandole, and singing): Tra’ a la, la, la, la, la, la, la, lere. . .
THE DOORKEEPER (sternly, to the pages): You pages there, none of your tricks!. . .
FIRST PAGE (with an air of wounded dignity): Oh, sir!–such a suspicion!. . .
(Briskly, to the second page, the moment the doorkeeper’s back is turned): Have you string?
Ay, and a fish-hook with it.
We can angle for wigs, then, up there i’ th’ gallery.
A PICKPOCKET (gathering about him some evil-looking youths): Hark ye, young cut-purses, lend an ear, while I give you your first lesson in thieving.
SECOND PAGE (calling up to others in the top galleries): You there! Have you peashooters?
THIRD PAGE (from above):
Ay, have we, and peas withal!
(He blows, and peppers them with peas.)
THE YOUNG MAN (to his father):
What piece do they give us?
THE YOUNG MAN:
Who may the author be?
Master Balthazar Baro. It is a play!. . .
(He goes arm-in-arm with his son.)
THE PICKPOCKET (to his pupils):
Have a care, above all, of the lace knee-ruffles–cut them off!
A SPECTATOR (to another, showing him a corner in the gallery): I was up there, the first night of the ‘Cid.’
THE PICKPOCKET (making with his fingers the gesture of filching): Thus for watches–
THE BURGHER (coming down again with his son): Ah! You shall presently see some renowned actors. . .
THE PICKPOCKET (making the gestures of one who pulls something stealthily, with little jerks):
Thus for handkerchiefs–
Montfleury. . .
SOME ONE (shouting from the upper gallery): Light up, below there!
. . .Bellerose, L’Epy, La Beaupre, Jodelet!
A PAGE (in the pit):
Here comes the buffet-girl!
THE BUFFET-GIRL (taking her place behind the buffet): Oranges, milk, raspberry-water, cedar bitters!
(A hubbub outside the door is heard.)
A FALSETTO VOICE:
Make place, brutes!
A LACKEY (astonished):
The Marquises!–in the pit?. . .
Oh! only for a minute or two!
(Enter a band of young marquises.)
A MARQUIS (seeing that the hall is half empty): What now! So we make our entrance like a pack of woolen-drapers! Peaceably, without disturbing the folk, or treading on their toes!–Oh, fie! Fie!
(Recognizing some other gentlemen who have entered a little before him): Cuigy! Brissaille!
(Greetings and embraces.)
True to our word!. . .Troth, we are here before the candles are lit.
Ay, indeed! Enough! I am of an ill humor.
Nay, nay, Marquis! see, for your consolation, they are coming to light up!
ALL THE AUDIENCE (welcoming the entrance of the lighter): Ah!. . .
(They form in groups round the lusters as they are lit. Some people have taken their seats in the galleries. Ligniere, a distinguished-looking roue, with disordered shirt-front arm-in-arm with christian de Neuvillette. Christian, who is dressed elegantly, but rather behind the fashion, seems preoccupied, and keeps looking at the boxes.)
The same. Christian, Ligniere, then Ragueneau and Le Bret.
Not drunk as yet?
LIGNIERE (aside to Christian):
I may introduce you?
(Christian nods in assent):
Baron de Neuvillette.
THE AUDIENCE (applauding as the first luster is lighted and drawn up): Ah!
CUIGY (to Brissaille, looking at Christian): ‘Tis a pretty fellow!
FIRST MARQUIS (who has overheard):
LIGNIERE (introducing them to Christian): My lords De Cuigy. De Brissaille. . .
Delighted!. . .
FIRST MARQUIS (to second):
He is not ill to look at, but certes, he is not costumed in the latest mode.
LIGNIERE (to Cuigy):
This gentleman comes from Touraine.
Yes, I have scarce been twenty days in Paris; tomorrow I join the Guards, in the Cadets.
FIRST MARQUIS (watching the people who are coming into the boxes): There is the wife of the Chief-Justice.
Oranges, milk. . .
THE VIOLINISTS (tuning up):
CUIGY (to Christian, pointing to the hall, which is filling fast): ‘Tis crowded.
All the great world!
(They recognize and name the different elegantly dressed ladies who enter the boxes, bowing low to them. The ladies send smiles in answer.)
Madame de Guemenee.
Madame de Bois-Dauphin.
Adored by us all!
Madame de Chavigny. . .
Who sports with our poor hearts!. . .
Ha! so Monsieur de Corneille has come back from Rouen!
THE YOUNG MAN (to his father):
Is the Academy here?
Oh, ay, I see several of them. There is Boudu, Boissat, and Cureau de la Chambre, Porcheres, Colomby, Bourzeys, Bourdon, Arbaud. . .all names that will live! ‘Tis fine!
Attention! Here come our precieuses; Barthenoide, Urimedonte, Cassandace, Felixerie. . .
Ah! How exquisite their fancy names are! Do you know them all, Marquis?
Ay, Marquis, I do, every one!
LIGNIERE (drawing Christian aside):
Friend, I but came here to give you pleasure. The lady comes not. I will betake me again to my pet vice.
No, no! You, who are ballad-maker to Court and City alike, can tell me better than any who the lady is for whom I die of love. Stay yet awhile.
THE FIRST VIOLIN (striking his bow on the desk): Gentlemen violinists!
(He raises his bow.)
Macaroons, lemon-drink. . .
(The violins begin to play.)
Ah! I fear me she is coquettish, and over nice and fastidious! I, who am so poor of wit, how dare I speak to her–how address her? This language that they speak to-day–ay, and write–confounds me; I am but an honest soldier, and timid withal. She has ever her place, there, on the right–the empty box, see you!
LIGNIERE (making as if to go):
I must go.
CHRISTIAN (detaining him):
I cannot. D’Assoucy waits me at the tavern, and here one dies of thirst.
THE BUFFET-GIRL (passing before him with a tray): Orange drink?
I will remain awhile.–Let me taste this rivesalte.
(He sits by the buffet; the girl pours some out for him.)
CRIES (from all the audience, at the entrance of a plump little man, joyously excited):
LIGNIERE (to Christian):
‘Tis the famous tavern-keeper Ragueneau.
RAGUENEAU (dressed in the Sunday clothes of a pastry-cook, going up quickly to Ligniere):
Sir, have you seen Monsieur de Cyrano?
LIGNIERE (introducing him to Christian): The pastry-cook of the actors and the poets!
You do me too great honor. . .
Nay, hold your peace, Maecenas that you are!
True, these gentlemen employ me. . .
He is himself a poet of a pretty talent. . .
So they tell me.
–Mad after poetry!
‘Tis true that, for a little ode. . .
You give a tart. . .
Brave fellow! He would fain fain excuse himself! –And for a triolet, now, did you not give in exchange. . .
Some little rolls!
They were milk-rolls! And as for the theater, which you love?
Oh! to distraction!
How pay you your tickets, ha?–with cakes. Your place, to-night, come tell me in my ear, what did it cost you?
Four custards, and fifteen cream-puffs. (He looks around on all sides):
Monsieur de Cyrano is not here? ‘Tis strange.
Ay, ’tis true that that old wine-barrel is to take Phedon’s part to-night; but what matter is that to Cyrano?
How? Know you not? He has got a hot hate for Montfleury, and so!–has forbid him strictly to show his face on the stage for one whole month.
LIGNIERE (drinking his fourth glass): Well?
Montfleury will play!
He can not hinder that.
Oh! oh! that I have come to see!
Who is this Cyrano?
A fellow well skilled in all tricks of fence.
Is he of noble birth?
Ay, noble enough. He is a cadet in the Guards. (Pointing to a gentleman who is going up and down the hall as if searching for some one):
But ’tis his friend Le Bret, yonder, who can best tell you. (He calls him):
(Le Bret comes towards them):
Seek you for De Bergerac?
Ay, I am uneasy. . .
Is it not true that he is the strangest of men?
LE BRET (tenderly):
True, that he is the choicest of earthly beings!
And of how fantastic a presence!
Marry, ‘twould puzzle even our grim painter Philippe de Champaigne to portray him! Methinks, whimsical, wild, comical as he is, only Jacques Callot, now dead and gone, had succeeded better, and had made of him the maddest fighter of all his visored crew–with his triple-plumed beaver and six-pointed doublet–the sword-point sticking up ‘neath his mantle like an insolent cocktail! He’s prouder than all the fierce Artabans of whom Gascony has ever been and will ever be the prolific Alma Mater! Above his Toby ruff he carries a nose!–ah, good my lords, what a nose is his! When one sees it one is fain to cry aloud, ‘Nay! ’tis too much! He plays a joke on us!’ Then one laughs, says ‘He will anon take it off.’ But no!–Monsieur de Bergerac always keeps it on.
LE BRET (throwing back his head):
He keeps it on–and cleaves in two any man who dares remark on it!
His sword–’tis one half of the Fates’ shears!
FIRST MARQUIS (shrugging his shoulders): He will not come!
I say he will! and I wager a fowl–a la Ragueneau.
THE MARQUIS (laughing):
(Murmurs of admiration in hall. Roxane has just appeared in her box. She seats herself in front, the duenna at the back. Christian, who is paying the buffet-girl, does not see her entrance.)
SECOND MARQUIS (with little cries of joy): Ah, gentlemen! she is fearfully–terribly–ravishing!
When one looks at her one thinks of a peach smiling at a strawberry!
And what freshness! A man approaching her too near might chance to get a bad chill at the heart!
CHRISTIAN (raising his head, sees Roxane, and catches Ligniere by the arm): ‘Tis she!
Ah! is it she?
Ay, tell me quick–I am afraid.
LIGNIERE (tasting his rivesalte in sips): Magdaleine Robin–Roxane, so called! A subtle wit–a precieuse.
Woe is me!
Free. An orphan. The cousin of Cyrano, of whom we were now speaking.
(At this moment an elegant nobleman, with blue ribbon across his breast, enters the box, and talks with Roxane, standing.)
Who is yonder man?
LIGNIERE (who is becoming tipsy, winking at him): Ha! ha! Count de Guiche. Enamored of her. But wedded to the niece of Armand de Richelieu. Would fain marry Roxane to a certain sorry fellow, one Monsieur de Valvert, a viscount–and–accommodating! She will none of that bargain; but De Guiche is powerful, and can persecute the daughter of a plain untitled gentleman. More by token, I myself have exposed this cunning plan of his to the world, in a song which. . .Ho! he must rage at me! The end hit home. . .Listen!
(He gets up staggering, and raises his glass, ready to sing.)
Where go you?
To Monsieur de Valvert!
Have a care! It is he who will kill you (showing him Roxane by a look):
Stay where you are–she is looking at you.
It is true!
(He stands looking at her. The group of pickpockets seeing him thus, head in air and open-mouthed, draw near to him.)
‘Tis I who am going. I am athirst! And they expect me–in the taverns!
(He goes out, reeling.)
LE BRET (who has been all round the hall, coming back to Ragueneau reassured): No sign of Cyrano.
All the same. . .
A hope is left to me–that he has not seen the playbill!
The same, all but Ligniere. De Guiche, Valvert, then Montfleury.
A marquis (watching De Guiche, who comes down from Roxane’s box, and crosses the pit surrounded by obsequious noblemen, among them the Viscount de Valvert):
He pays a fine court, your De Guiche!
Faugh!. . .Another Gascon!
Ay, but the cold, supple Gascon–that is the stuff success is made of! Believe me, we had best make our bow to him.
(They go toward De Guiche.)
What fine ribbons! How call you the color, Count de Guiche? ‘Kiss me, my darling,’ or ‘Timid Fawn?’
‘Tis the color called ‘Sick Spaniard.’
‘Faith! The color speaks truth, for, thanks to your valor, things will soon go ill for Spain in Flanders.
I go on the stage! Will you come?
(He goes toward the stage, followed by the marquises and gentlemen. Turning, he calls):
Come you Valvert!
CHRISTIAN (who is watching and listening, starts on hearing this name): The Viscount! Ah! I will throw full in his face my. . . (He puts his hand in his pocket, and finds there the hand of a pickpocket who is about to rob him. He turns round):
CHRISTIAN (holding him tightly):
I was looking for a glove.
THE PICKPOCKET (smiling piteously):
And you find a hand.
(Changing his tone, quickly and in a whisper): Let me but go, and I will deliver you a secret.
CHRISTIAN (still holding him):
What is it?
Ligniere. . .he who has just left you. . .
CHRISTIAN (same play):
His life is in peril. A song writ by him has given offense in high places– and a hundred men–I am of them–are posted to-night. . .
A hundred men! By whom posted?
I may not say–a secret. . .
CHRISTIAN (shrugging his shoulders):
THE PICKPOCKET (with great dignity):
. . .Of the profession.
Where are they posted?
At the Porte de Nesle. On his way homeward. Warn him.
CHRISTIAN (letting go of his wrists): But where can I find him?
Run round to all the taverns–The Golden Wine Press, the Pine Cone, The Belt that Bursts, The Two Torches, The Three Funnels, and at each leave a word that shall put him on his guard.
Good–I fly! Ah, the scoundrels! A hundred men ‘gainst one! (Looking lovingly at Roxane):
Ah, to leave her!. . .
(looking with rage at Valvert):
and him!. . .But save Ligniere I must!
(He hurries out. De Guiche, the viscount, the marquises, have all disappeared behind the curtain to take their places on the benches placed on the stage. The pit is quite full; the galleries and boxes are also crowded.)
A BURGHER (whose wig is drawn up on the end of a string by a page in the upper gallery):
CRIES OF DELIGHT:
He is bald! Bravo, pages–ha! ha! ha!. . .
THE BURGHER (furious, shaking his fist): Young villain!
LAUGHTER AND CRIES (beginning very loud, and dying gradually away): Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
LE BRET (astonished):
What means this sudden silence?. . . (A spectator says something to him in a low voice): Is’t true?
I have just heard it on good authority.
MURMURS (spreading through the hall): Hush! Is it he? No! Ay, I say! In the box with the bars in front! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! The Cardinal!
The devil! We shall have to behave ourselves. . .
(A knock is heard upon the stage. Every one is motionless. A pause.)
THE VOICE OF A MARQUIS (in the silence, behind the curtain): Snuff that candle!
ANOTHER MARQUIS (putting his head through the opening in the curtain): A chair!
(A chair is passed from hand to hand, over the heads of the spectators. The marquis takes it and disappears, after blowing some kisses to the boxes.)
(Three knocks are heard on the stage. The curtain opens in the centre Tableau. The marquises in insolent attitudes seated on each side of the stage. The scene represents a pastoral landscape. Four little lusters light the stage; the violins play softly.)
LE BRET (in a low voice to Ragueneau): Montfleury comes on the scene?
RAGUENEAU (also in a low voice):
Ay, ’tis he who begins.
Cyrano is not here.
I have lost my wager.
‘Tis all the better!
(An air on the drone-pipes is heard, and Montfleury enters, enormously stout, in an Arcadian shepherd’s dress, a hat wreathed with roses drooping over one ear, blowing into a ribboned drone pipe.)
THE PIT (applauding):
Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury!
MONTFLEURY (after bowing low, begins the part of Phedon): ‘Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu solitaire, Se prescrit a soi-meme un exil volontaire, Et qui, lorsque Zephire a souffle sur les bois. . .’
A VOICE (from the middle of the pit): Villain! Did I not forbid you to show your face here for month?
(General stupor. Every one turns round. Murmurs.)
Hey?–What?–What is’t?. . .
(The people stand up in the boxes to look.)
LE BRET (terrified):
King of clowns! Leave the stage this instant!
ALL THE AUDIENCE (indignantly):
But. . .
Do you dare defy me?
DIFFERENT VOICES (from the pit and the boxes): Peace! Enough!–Play on, Montfleury–fear nothing!
MONTFLEURY (in a trembling voice):
‘Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu sol–‘
THE VOICE (more fiercely):
Well! Chief of all the blackguards, must I come and give you a taste of my cane?
(A hand holding a cane starts up over the heads of the spectators.)
MONTFLEURY (in a voice that trembles more and more): ‘Heureux qui. . .’
(The cane is shaken.)
Off the stage!
‘Heureux qui loin des cours. . .’
CYRANO (appearing suddenly in the pit, standing on a chair, his arms crossed, his beaver cocked fiercely, his mustache bristling, his nose terrible to see): Ah! I shall be angry in a minute!. . .
The same. Cyrano, then Bellerose, Jodelet.
MONTFLEURY (to the marquises):
Come to my help, my lords!
A MARQUIS (carelessly):
Go on! Go on!
Fat man, take warning! If you go on, I Shall feel myself constrained to cuff your face!
And if these lords hold not their tongue Shall feel constrained to make them taste my cane!
ALL THE MARQUISES (rising):
Enough!. . .Montfleury. . .
If he goes not quick
I will cut off his ears and slit him up!
But. . .
Out he goes!
Yet. . .
Is he not gone yet?
(He makes the gesture of turning up his cuffs): Good! I shall mount the stage now, buffet-wise, To carve this fine Italian sausage–thus!
MONTFLEURY (trying to be dignified):
You outrage Thalia in insulting me!
CYRANO (very politely):
If that Muse, Sir, who knows you not at all, Could claim acquaintance with you–oh, believe (Seeing how urn-like, fat, and slow you are) That she would make you taste her buskin’s sole!
Montfleury! Montfleury! Come–Baro’s play!
CYRANO (to those who are calling out): I pray you have a care! If you go on
My scabbard soon will render up its blade!
(The circle round him widens.)
THE CROWD (drawing back):
CYRANO (to Montfleury):
Leave the stage!
THE CROWD (coming near and grumbling): Oh!–
Did some one speak?
(They draw back again.)
A VOICE (singing at the back):
Monsieur de Cyrano
Displays his tyrannies:
A fig for tyrants! What, ho!
Come! Play us ‘La Clorise!’
ALL THE PIT (singing):
‘La Clorise!’ ‘La Clorise!’. . .
Let me but hear once more that foolish rhyme, I slaughter every man of you.
Yes Samson! Will you lend your jawbone, Sir?
A LADY (in the boxes):
‘Tis most annoying!
Fair good sport!
Kss!–Montfleury. . .Cyrano!
THE PIT (wildly excited):
Ho-o-o-o-h! Quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo!
I order silence, all!
And challenge the whole pit collectively!– I write your names!–Approach, young heroes, here! Each in his turn! I cry the numbers out!– Now which of you will come to ope the lists? You, Sir? No! You? No! The first duellist Shall be dispatched by me with honors due! Let all who long for death hold up their hands! (A silence):
Modest? You fear to see my naked blade? Not one name?–Not one hand?–Good, I proceed! (Turning toward the stage, where Montfleury waits in an agony): The theater’s too full, congested,–I
Would clear it out. . .If not. . . (Puts his hand on his sword):
The knife must act!
I. . .
CYRANO (leaves his chair, and settles himself in the middle of the circle which has formed):
I will clap my hands thrice, thus–full moon! At the third clap, eclipse yourself!
THE PIT (amused):
CYRANO (clapping his hands):
I. . .
A VOICE (in the boxes):
He stays. . .he goes. . .he stays. . .
I think. . .Gentlemen,. . .
I think ’twere wisest. . .
(Montfleury disappears as through a trap. Tempest of laughs, whistling cries, etc.)
THE WHOLE HOUSE:
Coward. . .come back!
CYRANO (delighted, sits back in his chair, arms crossed): Come back an if you dare!
Call for the orator!
(Bellerose comes forward and bows.)
Ah! here’s Bellerose!
My noble lords. . .
No! no! Jodelet!
JODELET (advancing, speaking through his nose): Calves!
Ah! bravo! good! go on!
No bravos, Sirs!
The fat tragedian whom you all love Felt. . .
. . .was obliged to go.
A YOUNG MAN (to Cyrano):
But pray, Sir, for what reason, say, Hate you Montfleury?
CYRANO (graciously, still seated):
Youthful gander, know
I have two reasons–either will suffice. Primo. An actor villainous! who mouths, And heaves up like a bucket from a well The verses that should, bird-like, fly! Secundo– That is my secret. . .
THE OLD BURGHER (behind him):
Shameful! You deprive us
Of the ‘Clorise!’ I must insist. . .
CYRANO (turning his chair toward the burgher, respectfully): Old mule!
The verses of old Baro are not worth A doit! I’m glad to interrupt. . .
THE PRECIEUSES (in the boxes):
My dear! How dares he venture!. . .
CYRANO (turning his chair toward the boxes gallantly): Fairest ones,
Radiate, bloom, hold to our lips the cup Of dreams intoxicating, Hebe-like!
Or, when death strikes, charm death with your sweet smiles; Inspire our verse, but–criticise it not!
We must give back the entrance fees!
CYRANO (turning his chair toward the stage): Bellerose,
You make the first intelligent remark! Would I rend Thespis’ sacred mantle? Nay! (He rises and throws a bag on the stage): Catch then the purse I throw, and hold your peace!
THE HOUSE (dazzled):
JODELET (catching the purse dexterously and weighing it): At this price, you’ve authority
To come each night, and stop ‘Clorise,’ Sir!
Ho!. . .Ho! Ho!. . .
E’en if you chase us in a pack!. . .
Clear out the hall!. . .
Get you all gone at once!
(The people begin to go out, while Cyrano looks on with satisfaction. But the crowd soon stop on hearing the following scene, and remain where they are. The women, who, with their mantles on, are already standing up in the boxes, stop to listen, and finally reseat themselves.)
LE BRET (to Cyrano):
‘Tis mad!. . .
A BORE (coming up to Cyrano):
The actor Montfleury! ‘Tis shameful! Why, he’s protected by the Duke of Candal! Have you a patron?
No patron?. . .
What! no great lord to shield you with his name?
No, I have told you twice! Must I repeat? No! no protector. . .
(His hand on his sword):
A protectress. . .here!
But you must leave the town?
Well, that depends!
The Duke has a long arm!
But not so long
As mine, when it is lengthened out. . . (Shows his sword):
You think not tohat depratold you t,iikeess. . .here!
THE No patron?. . .
I. . .
Coxes):r Ay, telwhy Have y on, noight anellerose!
THESTIANp st formed):ture!. . .
CYRwal speal conto ligthing t)YRANO:
Wwon–that iris the st?rose!
THESTOWD (drawing back).
Grhis f to(He g arm!
playes it canxicats up litNot pagne?. . .
THESTIAN (same play)I nhter Yet. . .
ole rano’dats up ln owl’,
I. . .
Dor toa taktheard upontip?Miow!
I. . .
Coxes):r alike Well, t(He makesis ch not heWord tr): Ime her y on,at?Miow!
I. . .
ITakeYouthink norano–knewl the bI. . .
A I mayl to lo i nigh E’en if you t?Miow!
I. . .
ithougyous, see you!
THE BOREse,’ Sir.
(P tonguUn the Did ion, hanks t?Miow!
THE BOREse,’ Sir.
CYRANOOrne of hapt?Miow!
rd upont torarynture!. . .
Coxes)atyCatch th notirxes): be fatxic?–phand entry You t it. A ?rose!
smthe ht is qsmthe–in a mi. . .
Coxes)Mn a miy):
WhaepeatAcin exmtrance sometridicucandaloREsmthe–i anell?Miow!
THE BOREHust nto mylting me!
Cyou t,iikeers, eno!lly):
Flt wris h-the -wrishundrhe mgander, knoToh! tham He’s theseL (pasir!–spat d suffice,iikellow der,n Comeighat a nosNCE ntoxll lovOfphire l affre upied, ieground,fine utraeroseLib
up has j up feel mnight, r!-ord):
n if He will you Oh! Of pse
you ones,s comt tohthe ter!capehinderd yo(car your knoToh! clap mybbard soon will com his– ‘Tiord):
t is emte!. . .Hep his ar to him.!
THE BOREAiing me!
Ionsola lovOfpfut, re,after p–rougodj up be fk lovOfph of aas justhe cus Come teighat a,it!
one toundcted by his shou colid meetingatisfa his to th sword)::
.oh! claboos that hiis past I comekime back!
THESTrhis cunally away): my!ER:
s to the ng me!
mais prbooballer at all:
an I mpartlhe ‘, the cenfet ornord): somethinj Faiatascon–t That iwoiscoxes): And inj Fatheat My –k ‘twns theority n toding hem tastem ewerful, mayclaboosng me.
DE GRGHER, who, wit, the marquisele has omes down ward the stage): Ouo is carrie maa Silence!
VALVERTSTIAN (shrugging his shoulders)SwNp st rng me.
DE Goxes)aShe wi–Nothall putomespagne?. . . VISCOUNT BORE:
a A doRANO:’ in aeatoding oagne?ill nonclae mphearts!Se house ector. . If he ming up to Cstian, who is watchind a ground him Sii lighirniere): rite yt a notress.mmtresst Thtresster eb My wig!
VISCOUNT QUIS (laughing)Hay wig!
not apagne?. . .
DoWhat depratold you tAh No!ach, y its bnoToh! wuke htri soufhod spose, nto ls, I hais, anyou t
and a hunlor, tage):pararis paying hisagne?j up And told,t a,agne?. tAggotecxll: alles dof No,dsir!–s yt aRANO:’s, mhal A ‘e):
Dorthe cuItknife most with di (clapin, for yup;pose, neenterERE (dri-bowl nonr, riGenehaptoris oute prptxll: al: ‘Tro a pack!s of a pack!s land!ou t–A land, Sirbar ‘Fai: ‘Tihe osu. oris oCER (fu: al:
erv verses Mys a lansu. epeatpehiscissor aret w?NOOrnpink no and hold ge dris oGNO (gra: alYich youo ope t a litickgua: I ?BORE:box, se, yomanat tround hfone, as if sority f, behins chinSundaw ‘Troon to f soris oTrucucorn: al: Dormok write rone ack!old,t a knoToh! ying hband–rmok wspbbub down rite yt acoxes): hold no nentoboappea ‘Tis u car ‘Clse inmgais oC I error atNock: a”
(hinnee ladafire”dris oC
Myard andresr, kno:pair!–s and atron?leve justhe’e Myhil! If yoris oTill r: alP I e to qsmthe ua Chllass iseroseLeve ed, srear miThe cUIS (in ung his s yodtoris oPe cais: al:oh! bou tAche oAn oesBOREle carHi (o butltltAn othe xes)Mave j, I theseL dre has ir!–sucolis,f a lovOfpfe hrward anilenc up ‘neathng bjust’, a oris oCavali r: al
lu t the fashf
Fri me–t to?ority
‘Tn eYout ranooris oEmAn ais: alNhe w FriOss j Faichat a,it oCan must . Et the, siAy, htch thenm to dl
(He oris ouram ais: alWne, wheMy ey lords, whRdreSeaoris oA of dri: allegnoking fps pomerylris oLyris: alI means him Sh?pack!s Tri hiks t?’ere):m yo: alWne, w ‘Tismonuis mootlemew?’ere)Rief-J: al:oh! somets yt a?AU: -is c- him ai:
‘Tdtakoup a k Being fprecogANO ( oris oMieu sry: als. ( back sf thvalrylris oP dist co: alsu–t Tlso inhe by, all!u reas parry, ‘twever beb Mstranprecolris oOr Yet tho and dP tonif’ Nhsagne?. t’Beoom, h Is se more ma
enterses, GascovOfpcy wa my mastphiz! wits weighisn aea, Poylris o–Supprom My Ohy boywnas that nto ls, I hais, say,e toldpoor oeingeuvil entersyou tjottage):
riOssTis lt ornre
nehas eow de, aond a grpestuvil
o, I h
en is,!ublett thehe Ass, all!
paged pray y, h Isef suatfleut-wise, erv waits
s to you otgalleIae ota knoBere befoiat My l the audagne?e soerose,
y, ‘two is who hnot n to nouat mahe d-BOREle?, hold no one hr welrdaughteir!–j Fa!BORE:t to make down feel myaow fulFair the,RANO: Butcket fnSu. .Anoverymore bhat wrsng me.
DE GRGURY (tryinThey allyir on ismtydre the visossed): ally, The Viscence!
VISCOUNT QURY (choking with away): arhair, hroga Silenn): Visng verpocke:
He hashat! yous! all:
(He goeably, witsy eve-k Bu glaine ri,f theng me!
Cyou t:rue;yaow e inSE (ecd boxesbly,Dauph quis, Butpto k feel myo go pld,y Hebe;poseM reain tois once moong th dof (car gay;BORE: , ‘two issd finfnot t sa one-wuknguio genn):fhirt-feard asteMyhkt safeelce audrose,rry f-eyeshoull (furicket e of ois sudy epouths, knee-rd with ,agne?e pup mangde, Ues it uce, allIou to n No. Evfrd ts cungem cakesTaks trInthat dr silenr tastfluat m cunniu caffice,iike mayclaThey If the ined to id ilindRANO: brhis fyire l king effho spnd peas. .he t all,visordking exploiu gl are ing wine r-k Bu gposeM r IwheMche brisse in j up M
his mus gposeI,e fa ours payingthe riseschaat m cunm in gposeM to Taks a strNOsuas goeaj up ndash nonr,urscence! VISCOUNTtage):
riles Yet. . .
CYRANO: ay–fet! yous?IS:
And none of?BORE: y, anil Yetremindi I am othat orn grirouths, ander, (como;
but hilu Oh!o-hook wirhyme,h
w-t Tls’Tis his ffagne?e
Comho lool?. . .
VISCOUNT BOREBou c the scou!es,s cofinflat-fpeasd verp fees!
CYRA, spea cut offhke, fat,fter boking ashe, the vis y, may intrdssedes hizzled):?pack!sgo, ,while CySavts enway): rcucosieur de Berge one I slauhaken.)
ISCOUNT Ql beiacather)Bneeo Go on!
C PAGE (calgoeaking ahme, we h sudeecod who, wit,ctonawn up):Oh, EAiing me)
ISCOUNT Qs he awho is gally,
one twing back)WMgone st of w ‘Tis
A fes is paWhaepe. .
CYRwET (wiimir plaf grimather):tknife bismovgui-it’ ThS (putef-ffua:vow,is o–er? eury cof mustweighihaliadcoress, all!iea! ha!. . . VISCOUNT BOREat?–aiil! I depratold you tTit,ctona!,ctonall me i his ng me)
ISCOUNT QOWD (drahows his sword):
CYRANO:h! You shall aikes, r bowt a lito oking me)
ISCOUNT Qt tohtheu piteously):
Yet. . .
fterrilesI say!pranfrano, ipprBOREatt, wweks of , Seto!yaow rse mporeRANO: oon wil,t ahrowsre be!. . . VISCOUNT BOREAowsre be depratold you tf! ld make you mo; but rowsre be Thtence!
ture!. . .
CYR–a oxicatking ast I romets (car Phedon)Kyou knorymore g at tre be his s cl volnou tTi (Tand a- our d,finp mts! ha!. . .
. . .
CYRsly, s–a oxicously):
mentnvoi lovOfpfd to ones! ha!. . . VISCOUNTYRANO:h! Yet. . .
CYRANO:’ inbest mfor ot, wweks to-nigirst! ou, whichre g at and o one?. . . VISCOUNT BORE: Good?
CYRANONCyra(deould xicously)Tit,irstll mHeasl nonBurge sfleug tht kno:pa for De Bernels, lFaireugr-n I slcence! VISCOUNTtage):
Wlyir h! bonigh E’en if you t?Miowatold you tTit,n un?. . .
THE HOform eatoldly emn assent)Gust roon!hand?- good s:
ro’s name moist once!re
(The ciKingER (fuf the spectdenly in th; wit, the marqeaver oll sur Aglod who, wit,c–acn
(The p; wit,avo, ndimbstandincome . .An’s thais shou fear to the bIy): All
The ready standing up in the .se,
But rach ni but De Gu:
a daroxiue saLef niiend Le Be to Ragu,up to Cstes, etc..
CYRshIS (puttingeyesoking f (to second)Waitr ot, wIs tht ahe ilish s! ha! No, I hake n Mi!
hicome his sword)I gayegan cutclabhis below,is o, anfr
AelgposeM r Andyh his ma cuturse I tigirst! InThey m (verykngutem ew;is oGNO eYoutkinPhoebfurircle r’TisAelgposeAlereakinScarthe pprBOREAave a in, for one lesl fork! Aytealcoxes):ce, at tvoi’keer–Goo ou, !ak?
(enghe stage):at makingpray y, Will d relow;age):iris kewAnovyeaver? say! InsAel?vely!–y! InsAae court, blue riwith below?vely!–y! Insip, fat,ould makeknAel?way):o Call form King as weigem ew!ou t–:
mu, !akce,i oon ba page inpaun Catcito oki AytealrBOREat listce, at tvoi-Goo ou, ?. . ER: king flish rg flish pago?vely!-,
yracglRoxanerch- ottiss m Ael?way)Aflish !g flish ? No! otti Yo .AnomakeSHOW mule!ac turnpain me inp. ( oo cuff em ew;is overns-p.
( pray optrained to mtrancl;BORE:taino ope tnileyou clua sorit. s the lesl cucl (n– and slor ze Candal:ce, at tvoi’keer–Goo ou, r. . Ideould skin’smnteously)Etvoiffice. of ,
lyiHust ntkingprarire l’kellae, allIomovgus in e–l stoo mght, r!-t, ho!ill vI orf (t!ak?
rus(starting):e–t meful! rAel?wa.
(The visIANp sts same. Cssd ute boxes):ce, at tvoi’keer–Goo ou, !akandscoulmonsolonlesIT (aseng up in the .seF, fois earseelsk f siefsWhere a I nouomesstage. oll sur pit surup to Cstull,ratula (puttiob hk to Ragued(ecd bhing joy.m): Lepipesapp
Ay,anx (fustage. (The vis’is his f lords slit heaver b arhaimgallyidens.)
THE CRorts when oeigehling out):
AhA WOMRISTIAN:of a prto oking me.
LE BRETOss dmaGascon!
THE CRpAU (d turns gn of CyWellorus olossed): pdimepret, hoBAh! brO:
Leull,ratula ea! ha!Q is qun pir is ps mad!. . .WOMRI’SOTHER VOICETm. Therayoungtkingpras mad!. . .MUSKETEBURGLET (advang up to Cports witto edispateelsniere): permi-nigirN I sl,fin’twevethis orit! a judgea: I ;BORE:IANmpeshoi’Woult
you to m s of admir!. . .Hep
Who e–tled gentbirth?
LE BRET (to Ct man(putting the arm)Aave a eath witnture!. . .
Coxes)aath; n to h
(bMy lgo! Ho!. ay.:
BELLERher, respectfully)Wly, witntedI must!Cgallercks are heittide pipe.!
JODE .he whol togtheneously)Titis w
BELLERin’smnteously)S the sit! Ho!. ay.e inp.rdauulders)Sweep–clt ahrhe h Ay,must leaveO (deafficeil! up h Ay,mat mahewwek! he me onerBOREFing flees’ sseveralo-moit w’is ercesalte.no! Jo ears
(Bellen to go fter bowinng up to C pipe.)
ORLAUGBRET (to Cyrano):
CYRANONC?. . .
CYREAU (proudly):c(ase Ho!. ad.
(Changing hisea ‘Tis(.rdau
(He ally away) No, I ns! wneynture!. . )
LE BRho, wit,atisfanone T (throrows cited):w? No! ws a fgthensatron?. . .
CYRANOPat mnd ob visyworld, dly,
, w’rear, dlence.
ll d h Isexte for m Yet. . .
CYRANO: o, I ns sometjustwager.
LE BRETFoectg arm!
but rogNO eYoutkistractiT I back!
THE BUFFET-GcoS (laulence, beh beavuhe c hall):ng a(p to Cpa friend Le oneithal. Bret coor ‘finfnoir tniere):
e to akthmis ldu feakw? Know and.doRA. . s payingnow, bniere):ee same,y
CYRA, spea cut offhkessent)Gled g
, wgh e tpple Guprthe
, ‘twhilu not fsly)Tain to taksyou t hadowd odown rite his gposeM r You ano,rns i (A M
goe and Who e–prthenigirst! t fe acceterrupt. me? (He goayingnow, bniere)Ahtri sonture!T if tfewogNOpcaffi(Se. ollur e of hie the wbun b him. (He matfew) BOREle? Ay, bd,
un ! Ho!. aSe. tgalleeginivbefore hn verse tcitoop seatniere)Ah his ano,at maf A cagne?. tAarseehimsemacaroir!. . .Hep his give back. .Anoeehielves.)
says somethilu Miow!
from hansome!. . .Hepsome ki.Anoees! An , wgh That
Wh-prtecd d bows.)
THE BUFFET-GIRL:or, with iegEse,’ S(al. Brne usie cuffs): Good-night(al.
Scee 1.IV (to Ct iend Le!. . .
CYRAo iend Leering):w, and Goop to l.ue!
(He stre g at ow, b, fat,Makea strere before the fwit, tcaroirering)Dinnave her!. .atch thengNOpcaering)DU (drte her!. .atch thenghis ano,at mfully)Wlne ector. .tcithe sedes hizzled)Sohirst! ninng unre
Ihu be shf
LE BRETT if tfop
, ‘t-bh belinterledrBOREaihe hE’en ifhehunloemn is,, oneA M
MyTis mad!. ll!uk
(The perougo?- gn offeich of , ‘twder, knoToe effy exoo cuff this s in ince Oh!–
C (thi–ravineath hcaroirering)Ers, eno!llac?
LE BRETT i The Carture!. . .
CYR-n Arceously)Tit The Car–wukch not llac?
LE BRETMave j, I
I. . .
LEtage):patron?. . .
il! de, ‘ve a.ce,i oon Butcailng u you tsedeGIRL:ortlIou the woung fbr. .An- ‘ve a-Baro’swager.
You mtis fnSu
fnSu You th of: o, I s is sted to- llac?
ho (car, will nu
(Poinln Aes?. . .
(Montfl the ,up in turgeoisyrano, ut. De Gusly)Tit Vthe visco Our,up inAis am? I. . .
Enoing. e’e joy dlence.
LE BRETon. Busis the stn hisrBOREat reAh! I witisley, Wilistce, at td?s):xof a plit. syto m– not come!
CYRANO:Tlso iabyrtet wortWwhol stasctis fnSudillurs mopathleegi tht a;BORE:t to same. . .
LE BRETW ipp, Sir?
bys erCatcitm yosmopath mad!. llDecit weddehall of aMy llled ilence.
LE BIAN (shrugging his shoulders)Sdehal A doon. Bune isvexoo cuff hotsly)Tai on, Montfle not Ay, terself!
raeroseBig-beline, wilaur vesly, sdon, htles himais in coxes):t caing h taksyovexoo yovefinln Aes,is o, an ot, wtcitpuvil
en all ps The -Barthe,RANOM(He mThaep’ngeyesoald not t the –goganxicodowg!RANO: o,tbeforesit chahpuzzlehrugg Sele-psly)Tai and ttingeyeso no es coursMeion,ed Ay,wxes):tslustliawl v m cune’e alik foi-Bare anslence.
LE BItupedignified)ar! n
Hey?– oCan wheMe Ho!epe. .
CYRUIS (lau t vil
enderly):ortlIou the wyovelence?. .d. (Changing his tANOsuasively)I r a glove.
I. . .
tage ne You th onture!T ihfone,
A ddehadly):r a s h-
by Did poorogNO e(car ln n, sayIsyrcted ng, his nonchis king yh berust me;is overnn it is l anello, ippren tmain ‘e : oon, sayPoHe my to qwelrdau-eet ajusthef me;is o: :ouyEr a it on- th?ai:
thepher my eely)I r a s’Tis h
LE BRETT is h
Fam Yet. . .
Faiddle of the wBRETM
sheMchle Ita–sTis rusnstr–sTis gThe G-his dlence.
Who ir ln n, Sir?
CYRANOSWhy, at caingmintalgposeAllqun pspi (gra thus– fgthair, un eelcetraeroseLiup liyour sps pomed witht saynagesturnae ve,lly)Wly, remaellore ans Cupis,f rkase usmb :
il. .he who not .Anoweet e whoder,nsps pecnsola lov Gonsly, blowing tri sosogNO e’nge (dof ,ing)Divts t angrhter eUIS (cars the genigirNillV ra’ el mysan hall mh beavn C (Hesudea-ir tgposeA mThaysan to powing h beahand tas(.rdaes cigirNir)Dian so to bon ace of toduf tm cu-ik foiederoseLigh–ahat iL alre’e atcitorest partaSESnture!. . )
LEYRANOSap. Ch!yaow ?
CYRANOA mTp showebo!llac?
The c,OM(! Jgdaleine , Sir?
CYRANOy at Rlence.
LE BRET:ehe h Ay,sis tooup in the be oTie shAnowat, hoal. y,w cuff triumph ain whe? ter ed to- come!
ellow atft to mch tAy, te, who, we–t peing)er? vet e
(Gt chsan i
Inse to akt!RANO: Yomo;luy, telwook wllurofea ty tRANOAtcoorlleI’f whak:angrhteehruggse udimRANO: the ce Did f
roou of ,
s pomed your ;lly)Wly, m (veir)ulovi The rance yt aRANO:owingtf tm cu’nge (dof ct me–insiat Vi aysRANO:oweeowing sd to- fowl-alrentting thnigirst! I th,
auhe c As ‘ up ‘n Bune feahhn vRANO:o Wf curtaio, I sy ln n,t te netideoris oT, wgh–soaou feaec (Hs?
IO this sufnce, allverns-shadto noncla theet erd uponwd ilence.
LE Btill regantly):
Fnture!. . .
Fistce,orlle Ay, ‘is he Ay, t vil
hall fen oee oness–i aHesuwll-favorture!. . )
LEYRA, speaping hisyrano):
CYRANONC, nehasctiT I ,eeingvet rmou is psly)Aomes d ng, his a tAarne ofr ishe strkea s!RANO: nehas oon,n ot, wnonclel myI’f a my m-wisen to h divts t addles’ sto mct t e ‘vydly): But weddeir!–c–acn ulovigon aness.igirNil(lau once in’smnho en a tAar–subdimernigirst! : , ‘two iscteweeps payoneA nor I slauBRETT isANOsu ee is m not tAarnchaln Flalence.
LE BRETNehas b. y,diy):
‘swyovelt safd entrddlFintunerself!
eng.oCaesou fea toE:
o Noa?way)AfTing toce
IA ddeBurs icegerac?
Thwith rou lend woo!verns-wt a lima fsly): ollure, Willrus Fhis mohtee tage:
ilrgeyesoditwo isabhingpra ty
CYRimsAU (d sword): is true.
LE BRET:ehe hhou knor?! ha! Nhawe him Ro es l mwortWwhoharm -palsea That dispattit,irst?. . .
LE BRETHe Myae coh maf ncyes on, are alrc I slcenNOPu–t h ta’o ou, !akanatold you tTi ThatouyEm(A kclaTac blade-
Thaback.ne sometos d ng,t of Ir You’ Sir!
ORLAUGB may intiblowing o Roxan (to Cyrano): wing o Roaskstkingprature!. . .
SceeI 1.IV (to Ct iend Le,etit,irsnna?. . . DUENNA BRho, o in abowormed):
who is, s th ofmain wsafthe cu ln n: C Vldoweeo Ah,vne Itt The c– Ay,inyou a secret.
CYR vI mails formed)Se hml?Miow!
DUENNA BBrne usyxicously):yrilesI sSh e whowingwe– h tehe?. . . Se):
ingwe-pagne?. . .
DUENNA Bsly, sBrne usyxicously):yriou d,tbemaat me fees!
Go ng me)
DUENNAyou tTo-moit wistce, at areg wits rddldawla lovWe(They e but mis tceSt.e h, ?. . .
CYRANOs cunaack sf iend Leering)M
Go ng me)
DUENNAyou tARY (–we–Make king ffewoin a ma’ epeepp, Sir?
C Qt tfT (amused)W not heA ! Ho!bpatron?:prom Go nagne?. . .
CYRANOMustft conagne?. . .
DUENNAYRANOW not llac!
CYRANOAtascoents ary- tuis nonk to Ragu?. . . DUENNAYRANOW not indg ki.A?Miowatold you tTit,Ruehande, sSt.eHith e!. . . DUENNA Bo is cuffs):
YLignieAas nven!. . .
Coxes)aly, witcail?. . .
SceeII 1.IV (to Ct iend Lestage.o. An ppeaprotecrquiCuige,nd iishy, , save Lig,
But (.rdauuiche, the vthe ?. . .
CYRfa, blowing iend Le’r, hisniere)Ahwill zv(fuststsssed fave her!. ac?
‘r. y,d ns! wrt come!
y)L to h
the (Thebhis tuSh e who kI ll dlence.
LE BRETN? Kno’on ba calm
CYRnetidehtles himkingjoy nose):
m?NO: ns! Hom?BORE:’on ba s neticshf cais,–rstweig’TisRANO: king n, hiy tocettn a t sa oFa!BORE:, yotetop ony waitclab twot; liycogestur hisnigirNiTdtakoleegi must lcurtw Vilence?. .WIT (wering):Go o Ittsan Miow(Fing ffewoiomepree–inshadto heads of An ps who hnot ming la bag on the ,irclea whlercks are ascoenlees’ ssevd, hS (begistage. (The vthe ercks me–iirxeheir pagain.)
A PAGEHthe YLig!NO:
CYRUIS (laughing)We(Th!. . .Hepmovge allyino:pap in ig Yor the ceCuige,nd iishy, , mybbam. oll surosseand holup
ian, whdNot look.)
CUIGY. . .Cyrano!
CUIGYAittlepap rts ou tTity’r. brCE (sin see you.
CYR–aove ziholding him)save Liglence?:e–tasafd entdepe. .