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cyrano de bergerac-第10节

小说: cyrano de bergerac 字数: 每页4000字

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their spunk;   Give rendezvous in broil and fray;   'Pink…your…Doublet' and 'Slit…your…Trunk'   Are their gentlest sobriquets!

  What; ho!  Cadets of Gascony!   All jealous lovers are sport for you!   O Woman! dear divinity!   What; ho!  Cadets of Gascony!   Whom scowling husbands quake to see。   Blow; 'taratara;' and cry 'Cuckoo。'   What; ho!  Cadets of Gascony!   Husbands and lovers are game for you!

DE GUICHE (seated with haughty carelessness in an armchair brought quickly by Ragueneau):   A poet!  'Tis the fashion of the hour!   Will you be mine?

CYRANO:   No; Sir;no man's!

DE GUICHE:   Last night   Your fancy pleased my uncle Richelieu。   I'll gladly say a word to him for you。

LE BRET (overjoyed):   Great Heavens!

DE GUICHE:   I imagine you have rhymed   Five acts; or so?

LE BRET (in Cyrano's ear):   Your play!your 'Agrippine!'   You'll see it staged at last!

DE GUICHE:   Take them to him。

CYRANO (beginning to be tempted and attracted):   In sooth;I would。 。 。

DE GUICHE:   He is a critic skilled:   He may correct a line or two; at most。

CYRANO (whose face stiffens at once):   Impossible!  My blood congeals to think   That other hand should change a comma's dot。

DE GUICHE:   But when a verse approves itself to him   He pays it dear; good friend。

CYRANO:   He pays less dear   Than I myself; when a verse pleases me   I pay myself; and sing it to myself!

DE GUICHE:   You are proud。

CYRANO:   Really?  You have noticed that?

A CADET (entering; with a string of old battered plumed beaver hats; full of holes; slung on his sword):   See; Cyrano;this morning; on the quay   What strange bright…feathered game we caught!   The hats   O' the fugitives。 。 。

CARBON:   'Spolia opima!'

ALL (laughing):   Ah! ah! ah!

CUIGY:   He who laid that ambush; 'faith!   Must curse and swear!

BRISSAILLE:   Who was it?

DE GUICHE:   I myself。 (The laughter stops):   I charged themwork too dirty for my sword;   To punish and chastise a rhymster sot。

(Constrained silence。)

The CADET (in a low voice; to Cyrano; showing him the beavers):   What do with them?  They're full of grease!a stew?

CYRANO (taking the sword and; with a salute; dropping the hats at De Guiche's feet):   Sir; pray be good enough to render them   Back to your friends。

DE GUICHE (rising; sharply):   My chair therequick!I go! (To Cyrano passionately):   As to you; sirrah!。 。 。

VOICE (in the street):   Porters for my lord De Guiche!

DE GUICHE (who has controlled himselfsmiling):   Have you read 'Don Quixote'?

CYRANO:   I have!   And doff my hat at th' mad knight…errant's name。

DE GUICHE:   I counsel you to study。 。 。

A PORTER (appearing at back):   My lord's chair!

DE GUICHE:   。 。 。The windmill chapter!

CYRANO (bowing):   Chapter the Thirteenth。

DE GUICHE:   For when one tilts 'gainst windmillsit may chance。 。 。

CYRANO:   Tilt I 'gainst those who change with every breeze?

DE GUICHE:   。 。 。That windmill sails may sweep you with their arm   Downin the mire!。 。 。 

CYRANO:   Or upwardto the stars!

(De Guiche goes out; and mounts into his chair。  The other lords go away whispering together。  Le Bret goes to the door with them。  The crowd disperses。)



Scene 2。VIII。

Cyrano; Le Bret; the cadets; who are eating and drinking at the tables right and left。

CYRANO (bowing mockingly to those who go out without daring to salute him):   Gentlemen。 。 。Gentlemen。 。 。

LE BRET (coming back; despairingly):   Here's a fine coil!

CYRANO:   Oh! scold away!

LE BRET:   At least; you will agree   That to annihilate each chance of Fate   Exaggerates。 。 。

CYRANO:   Yes!I exaggerate!

LE BRET (triumphantly):   Ah!

CYRANO:   But for principleexample too;   I think 'tis well thus to exaggerate。

LE BRET:   Oh! lay aside that pride of musketeer;   Fortune and glory wait you!。 。 。

CYRANO:   Ay; and then?。 。 。   Seek a protector; choose a patron out;   And like the crawling ivy round a tree   That licks the bark to gain the trunk's support;   Climb high by creeping ruse instead of force?   No; grammercy!  What!  I; like all the rest   Dedicate verse to bankers?play buffoon   In cringing hope to see; at last; a smile   Not disapproving; on a patron's lips?   Grammercy; no!  What! learn to swallow toads?   With frame aweary climbing stairs?a skin   Grown grimed and horny;here; about the knees?   And; acrobat…like; teach my back to bend?   No; grammercy!  Or;double…faced and sly   Run with the hare; while hunting with the hounds;   And; oily…tongued; to win the oil of praise;   Flatter the great man to his very nose?   No; grammercy!  Steal soft from lap to lap;   A little great man in a circle small;   Or navigate; with madrigals for sails;   Blown gently windward by old ladies' sighs?   No; grammercy!  Bribe kindly editors   To spread abroad my verses?  Grammercy!   Or try to be elected as the pope   Of tavern…councils held by imbeciles?   No; grammercy!  Toil to gain reputation   By one small sonnet; 'stead of making many?   No; grammercy!  Or flatter sorry bunglers?   Be terrorized by every prating paper?   Say ceaselessly; 'Oh; had I but the chance   Of a fair notice in the 〃Mercury〃!'   Grammercy; no!  Grow pale; fear; calculate?   Prefer to make a visit to a rhyme?   Seek introductions; draw petitions up?   No; grammercy! and no! and no again!  Butsing?   Dream; laugh; go lightly; solitary; free;   With eyes that look straight forwardfearless voice!   To cock your beaver just the way you choose;   For 'yes' or 'no' show fight; or turn a rhyme!   To work without one thought of gain or fame;   To realize that journey to the moon!   Never to pen a line that has not sprung   Straight from the heart within。  Embracing then   Modesty; say to oneself; 'Good my friend;   Be thou content with flowers;fruit;nay; leaves;   But pluck them from no garden but thine own!'   And then; if glory come by chance your way;   To pay no tribute unto Caesar; none;   But keep the merit all your own!  In short;   Disdaining tendrils of the parasite;   To be content; if neither oak nor elm   Not to mount high; perchance; but mount alone!

LE BRET:   Alone; an if you will!  But not with hand   'Gainst every man!  How in the devil's name   Have you conceived this lunatic idea;   To make foes for yourself at every turn?

CYRANO:   By dint of seeing you at every turn   Make friends;and fawn upon your frequent friends   With mouth wide smiling; slit from ear to ear!   I pass; still unsaluted; joyfully;   And cry;What; ho! another enemy?

LE BRET:   Lunacy!

CYRANO:   Well; what if it be my vice;   My pleasure to displeaseto love men hate me!   Ah; friend of mine; believe me; I march better   'Neath the cross…fire of glances inimical!   How droll the stains one sees on fine…laced doublets;   From gall of envy; or the poltroon's drivel!   The enervating friendship which enfolds you   Is like an open…laced Italian collar;   Floating around your neck in woman's fashion;   One is at ease thus;but less proud the carriage!   The forehead; free from mainstay or coercion;   Bends here; there; everywhere。  But I; embracing   Hatred; she lends;forbidding; stiffly fluted;   The ruff's starched folds that hold the head so rigid;   Each enemyanother folda gopher;   Who adds constraint; and adds a ray of glory;   For Hatred; like the ruff worn by the Spanish;   Grips like a vice; but frames you like a halo!

LE BRET (after a silence; taking his arm):   Speak proud aloud; and bitter!In my ear   Whisper me simply this;She loves thee not!

CYRANO (vehemently):   Hush!

(Christian has just entered; and mingled with the cadets; who do not speak to him; he has seated himself at a table; where Lise serves him。)



Scene 2。IX。

Cyrano; Le Bret; the cadets; Christian de Neuvillette。

A CADET (seated at a table; glass in hand):   Cyrano! (Cyrano turns round):   The story!

CYRANO:   In its time!

(He goes up on Le Bret's arm。  They talk in low voices。)

THE CADET (rising and coming down):   The story of the fray!  'Twill lesson well (He stops before the table where Christian is seated):   This timid young apprentice!

CHRISTIAN (raising his head):   'Prentice!  Who?

ANOTHER CADET:   This sickly Northern greenhorn!

CHRISTIAN:   Sickly!

FIRST CADET (mockingly):   Hark!   Monsieur de Neuvillette; this in your ear:   There's somewhat here; one no more dares to name;   Than to say 'rope' to one whose sire was hanged!

CHRISTIAN:   What may that be?

ANOTHER CADET (in a terrible voice):   See here! (He puts his finger three times; mysteriously; on his nose):   Do you understand?

CHRISTIAN:   Oh! 'tis the。 。 。

ANOTHER:   Hush! oh; never breathe that word;   Unless you'd reckon with him yonder!

(He points to Cyrano; who is talking with Le Bret。)

ANOTHER (who has meanwhile come up noiselessly to sit on the tablewhispering behind him):   Hark!   He put two snuffling men to death; in rage;   For the sole reason they spoke through their nose!

ANOTHER (in a hollow voice; darting on all…fours from under the table; where he had crept):   And if you would not perish in flower o' youth;   Oh; mention not the fatal cartilage!

ANOTHER (clapping him on the shoulder):   A word?  A gesture!  For the indiscr

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