cyrano de bergerac-第8节
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CYRANO （raising his head a minute）： Eight？。 。 。hold； methought seven。
（He goes on writing。）
RAGUENEAU （to Cyrano）： Know you who might be the hero of the fray？
CYRANO （carelessly）： Not I。
LISE （to the musketeer）： And you？ Know you？
THE MUSKETEER （twirling his mustache）： Maybe！
CYRANO （writing a little way off：he is heard murmuring a word from time to time）： 'I love thee！'
FIRST POET： 'Twas one man； say they all； ay； swear to it； one man who； single…handed； put the whole band to the rout！
SECOND POET： 'Twas a strange sight！pikes and cudgels strewed thick upon the ground。
CYRANO （writing）： 。 。 。'Thine eyes'。 。 。
THIRD POET： And they were picking up hats all the way to the Quai d'Orfevres！
FIRST POET： Sapristi！ but he must have been a ferocious。 。 。
CYRANO （same play）： 。 。 。'Thy lips'。 。 。
FIRST POET： 'Twas a parlous fearsome giant that was the author of such exploits！
CYRANO （same play）： 。 。 。'And when I see thee come； I faint for fear。'
SECOND POET （filching a cake）： What hast rhymed of late； Ragueneau？
CYRANO （same play）： 。 。 。'Who worships thee'。 。 。 （He stops； just as he is about to sign； and gets up； slipping the letter into his doublet）： No need I sign； since I give it her myself。
RAGUENEAU （to second poet）： I have put a recipe into verse。
THIRD POET （seating himself by a plate of cream…puffs）： Go to！ Let us hear these verses！
FOURTH POET （looking at a cake which he has taken）： Its cap is all a' one side！
（He makes one bite of the top。）
FIRST POET： See how this gingerbread woos the famished rhymer with its almond eyes； and its eyebrows of angelica！
（He takes it。）
SECOND POET： We listen。
THIRD POET （squeezing a cream…puff gently）： How it laughs！ Till its very cream runs over！
SECOND POET （biting a bit off the great lyre of pastry）： This is the first time in my life that ever I drew any means of nourishing me from the lyre！
RAGUENEAU （who has put himself ready for reciting； cleared his throat； settled his cap； struck an attitude）： A recipe in verse！。 。 。
SECOND POET （to first； nudging him）： You are breakfasting？
FIRST POET （to second）： And you dining； methinks。
RAGUENEAU： How almond tartlets are made。
Beat your eggs up； light and quick； Froth them thick； Mingle with them while you beat Juice of lemon； essence fine； Then combine The burst milk of almonds sweet。
Circle with a custard paste The slim waist Of your tartlet…molds； the top With a skillful finger print； Nick and dint； Round their edge； then； drop by drop； In its little dainty bed Your cream shed： In the oven place each mold： Reappearing； softly browned； The renowned Almond tartlets you behold！
THE POETS （with mouths crammed full）： Exquisite！ Delicious！
A POET （choking）： Homph！
（They go up； eating。）
CYRANO （who has been watching； goes toward Ragueneau）： Lulled by your voice； did you see how they were stuffing themselves？
RAGUENEAU （in a low voice； smiling）： Oh； ay！ I see well enough； but I never will seem to look； fearing to distress them； thus I gain a double pleasure when I recite to them my poems； for I leave those poor fellows who have not breakfasted free to eat； even while I gratify my own dearest foible； see you？
CYRANO （clapping him on the shoulder）： Friend； I like you right well！。 。 。 （Ragueneau goes after his friends。 Cyrano follows him with his eyes； then； rather sharply）： Ho there！ Lise！ （Lise； who is talking tenderly to the musketeer； starts； and comes down toward Cyrano）： So this fine captain is laying siege to you？
LISE （offended）： One haughty glance of my eye can conquer any man that should dare venture aught 'gainst my virtue。
CYRANO： Pooh！ Conquering eyes； methinks； are oft conquered eyes。
LISE （choking with anger）： But
CYRANO （incisively）： I like Ragueneau well； and somark me； Dame LiseI permit not that he be rendered a laughing…stock by any。 。 。
LISE： But。 。 。
CYRANO （who has raised his voice so as to be heard by the gallant）： A word to the wise。 。 。
（He bows to the musketeer； and goes to the doorway to watch； after looking at the clock。）
LISE （to the musketeer； who has merely bowed in answer to Cyrano's bow）： How now？ Is this your courage？。 。 。Why turn you not a jest on his nose？
THE MUSKETEER： On his nose？。 。 。ay； ay。 。 。his nose。
（He goes quickly farther away； Lise follows him。）
CYRANO （from the doorway； signing to Ragueneau to draw the poets away）： Hist！。 。 。
RAGUENEAU （showing them the door on the right）： We shall be more private there。 。 。
CYRANO （impatiently）： Hist！ Hist！。 。 。
RAGUENEAU （drawing them farther）： To read poetry； 'tis better here。 。 。
FIRST POET （despairingly； with his mouth full）： What！ leave the cakes？。 。 。
SECOND POET： Never！ Let's take them with us！
（They all follow Ragueneau in procession； after sweeping all the cakes off the trays。）
Scene 2。V。
Cyrano； Roxane； the duenna。
CYRANO： Ah！ if I see but the faint glimmer of hope； then I draw out my letter！ （Roxane； masked； followed by the duenna； appears at the glass pane of the door。 He opens quickly）： Enter！。 。 。 （Walking up to the duenna）： Two words with you； Duenna。
THE DUENNA： Four； Sir； an it like you。
CYRANO： Are you fond of sweet things？
THE DUENNA： Ay； I could eat myself sick on them！
CYRANO （catching up some of the paper bags from the counter）： Good。 See you these two sonnets of Monsieur Beuserade。 。 。
THE DUENNA： Hey？
CYRANO： 。 。 。Which I fill for you with cream cakes！
THE DUENNA （changing her expression）： Ha。
CYRANO： What say you to the cake they call a little puff？
THE DUENNA： If made with cream； Sir； I love them passing well。
CYRANO： Here I plunge six for your eating into the bosom of a poem by Saint Amant！ And in these verses of Chapelain I glide a lighter morsel。 Stay； love you hot cakes？
THE DUENNA： Ay； to the core of my heart！
CYRANO （filling her arms with the bags）： Pleasure me then； go eat them all in the street。
THE DUENNA： But。 。 。
CYRANO （pushing her out）： And come not back till the very last crumb be eaten！
（He shuts the door； comes down toward Roxane； and； uncovering； stands at a respectful distance from her。）
Scene 2。VI。
Cyrano； Roxane。
CYRANO： Blessed be the moment when you condescend Remembering that humbly I exist To come to meet me； and to say。 。 。to tell？。 。 。
ROXANE （who has unmasked）： To thank you first of all。 That dandy count； Whom you checkmated in brave sword…play Last night；。 。 。he is the man whom a great lord； Desirous of my favor。 。 。
CYRANO： Ha； De Guiche？
ROXANE （casting down her eyes）： Sought to impose on me。 。 。for husband。 。 。
CYRANO： Ay！ Husband！dupe…husband！。 。 。Husband a la mode！ （Bowing）： Then I fought； happy chance！ sweet lady； not For my ill favorbut your favors fair！
ROXANE： Confession next！。 。 。But； ere I make my shrift； You must be once again that brother…friend With whom I used to play by the lake…side！。 。 。
CYRANO： Ay； you would come each spring to Bergerac！
ROXANE： Mind you the reeds you cut to make your swords？。 。 。
CYRANO： While you wove corn…straw plaits for your dolls' hair！
ROXANE： Those were the days of games！。 。 。
CYRANO： And blackberries！。 。 。
ROXANE： In those days you did everything I bid！。 。 。
CYRANO： Roxane； in her short frock； was Madeleine。 。 。
ROXANE： Was I fair then？
CYRANO： You were not ill to see！
ROXANE： Ofttimes； with hands all bloody from a fall； You'd run to me！ Thenaping mother…ways I； in a voice would…be severe； would chide； （She takes his hand）： 'What is this scratch； again； that I see here？' （She starts； surprised）： Oh！ 'Tis too much！ What's this？ （Cyrano tries to draw away his hand）： No； let me see！ At your age； fie！ Where did you get that scratch？
CYRANO： I got itplaying at the Porte de Nesle。
ROXANE （seating herself by the table； and dipping her handkerchief in a glass of water）： Give here！
CYRANO （sitting by her）： So soft！ so gay maternal…sweet！
ROXANE： And tell me； while I wipe away the blood； How many 'gainst you？
CYRANO： Oh！ A hundrednear。
ROXANE： Come； tell me！
CYRANO： No； let be。 But you； come tell The thing； just now； you dared not。 。 。
ROXANE （keeping his hand）： Now； I dare！ The scent of those old days emboldens me！ Yes； now I dare。 Listen。 I am in love。
CYRANO： Ah！。 。 。
ROXANE： But with one who knows not。
CYRANO： Ah！。 。 。
ROXANE： Not yet。
CYRANO： Ah！。 。 。
ROXANE： But who； if he knows not； soon shall learn。
CYRANO： Ah！。 。 。
ROXANE： A poor youth who all this time has loved Timidly； from afar； and dares not speak。 。 。
CYRANO： Ah！。 。 。
ROXANE： Leave your hand； why； it is fever…hot！ But I have seen love trembling on his lips。
CYRANO： Ah！。 。 。
ROXANE （bandaging his hand with her handkerchief）： And to think of it！ that he by chance Yes； cousin； he is of your regiment！
CYRANO： Ah！。 。 。
ROXANE （laughing）： Is cadet in your own company！
CYRANO： Ah
