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.)





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