Scene 4.VII.



The same.  De Guiche.



DE GUICHE:

  It smells good here.



A CADET (humming):

  Lo!  Lo-lo!



DE GUICHE (looking at him):

  What is the matter?--You are very red.



THE CADET:

  The matter?--Nothing!--'Tis my blood--boiling at the thought of the coming

battle!



ANOTHER:

  Poum, poum--poum. . .



DE GUICHE (turning round):

  What's that?



THE CADET (slightly drunk):

  Nothing!. . .'Tis a song!--a little. . .



DE GUICHE:

  You are merry, my friend!



THE CADET:

  The approach of danger is intoxicating!



DE GUICHE (calling Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, to give him an order):

  Captain!  I. . .

(He stops short on seeing him):

  Plague take me! but you look bravely, too!



CARBON (crimson in the face, hiding a bottle behind his back, with an evasive

movement):

  Oh!. . .



DE GUICHE:

  I have one cannon left, and have had it carried there--

(he points behind the scenes):

  --in that corner. . .Your men can use it in case of need.



A CADET (reeling slightly):

  Charming attention!



ANOTHER (with a gracious smile):

  Kind solicitude!



DE GUICHE:

  How? they are all gone crazy?

(Drily):

 As you are not used to cannon, beware of the recoil.



FIRST CADET:

  Pooh!



DE GUICHE (furious, going up to him):

  But. . .



THE CADET:

  Gascon cannons never recoil!



DE GUICHE (taking him by the arm and shaking him):

  You are tipsy!--but what with?



THE CADET (grandiloquently):

  --With the smell of powder!



DE GUICHE (shrugging his shoulders and pushing him away, then going quickly to

Roxane):

  Briefly, Madame, what decision do you deign to take?



ROXANE:

  I stay here.



DE GUICHE:

  You must fly!



ROXANE:

  No! I will stay.



DE GUICHE:

  Since things are thus, give me a musket, one of you!



CARBON:

  Wherefore?



DE GUICHE:

  Because I too--mean to remain.



CYRANO:

  At last!  This is true valor, Sir!



FIRST CADET:

  Then you are Gascon after all, spite of your lace collar?



ROXANE:

  What is all this?



DE GUICHE:

  I leave no woman in peril.



SECOND CADET (to the first):

  Hark you!  Think you not we might give him something to eat?



(All the viands reappear as if by magic.)



DE GUICHE (whose eyes sparkle):

  Victuals!



THE THIRD CADET:

  Yes, you'll see them coming from under every coat!



DE GUICHE (controlling himself, haughtily):

  Do you think I will eat your leavings?



CYRANO (saluting him):

  You make progress.



DE GUICHE (proudly, with a light touch of accent on the word 'breaking'):

  I will fight without br-r-eaking my fast!



FIRST CADET (with wild delight):

  Br-r-r-eaking!  He has got the accent!



DE GUICHE (laughing):

  I?



THE CADET:

  'Tis a Gascon!



(All begin to dance.)



CARBON DE CASTEL-JALOUX (who had disappeared behind the rampart, reappearing

on the ridge):

  I have drawn my pikemen up in line.  They are a resolute troop.



(He points to a row of pikes, the tops of which are seen over the ridge.)



DE GUICHE (bowing to Roxane):

  Will you accept my hand, and accompany me while I review them?



(She takes it, and they go up toward the rampart.  All uncover and follow

them.)



CHRISTIAN (going to Cyrano, eagerly):

  Tell me quickly!



(As Roxane appears on the ridge, the tops of the lances disappear, lowered for

the salute, and a shout is raised.  She bows.)



THE PIKEMEN (outside):

  Vivat!



CHRISTIAN:

  What is this secret?



CYRANO:

  If Roxane should. . .



CHRISTIAN:

  Should?. . .



CYRANO:

  Speak of the letters?. . .



CHRISTIAN:

  Yes, I know!. . .



CYRANO:

  Do not spoil all by seeming surprised. . .



CHRISTIAN:

  At what?



CYRANO:

  I must explain to you!. . .Oh! 'tis no great matter--I but thought of it to-

day on seeing her.  You have. . .



CHRISTIAN:

  Tell quickly!



CYRANO:

  You have. . .written to her oftener than you think. . .



CHRISTIAN:

  How so?



CYRANO:

  Thus, 'faith!  I had taken it in hand to express your flame for you!. . .At

times I wrote without saying, 'I am writing!'



CHRISTIAN:

  Ah!. . .



CYRANO:

  'Tis simple enough!



CHRISTIAN:

  But how did you contrive, since we have been cut off, thus. . .to?. . .



CYRANO:

  . . .Oh! before dawn. . .I was able to get through. . .



CHRISTIAN (folding his arms):

  That was simple, too?  And how oft, pray you, have I written?. . .Twice in

the week?. . .Three times?. . .Four?. . .



CYRANO:

  More often still.



CHRISTIAN:

  What!  Every day?



CYRANO:

  Yes, every day,--twice.



CHRISTIAN (violently):

  And that became so mad a joy for you, that you braved death. . .



CYRANO (seeing Roxane returning):

  Hush!  Not before her!



(He goes hurriedly into his tent.)