Scene II

The same, with CHRISTIAN, LIGNIERE, then RAGUENEAU and LE BRET.

CUIGY:

Ligniere!

BRISSAILLE:

[laughing] Not drunk yet?

LIGNIERE:

[aside to CHRISTIAN] Shall I introduce you? [CHRISTIAN nods in assent.] Baron de Neuvillette.

[They exchange bows.]

AUDIENCE:

[applauding as the first candelabra is lighted and drawn up] Ah!

CUIGY:

[to BRISSAILLE, looking at CHRISTIAN] Handsome fellow!

FIRST MARQUIS:

[who has overheard] Pooh!

LIGNIERE:

[introducing them to CHRISTIAN] Messieurs de Cuigy, de Brissaille.

CHRISTIAN:

[bowing] Delighted to meet you.

FIRST MARQUIS:

[to the SECOND] He's good-looking, but his fashion is a little out of date.

LIGNIERE:

[to CUIGY] Monsieur de Neuvillette comes from Touraine.

CHRISTIAN:

Yes, I've only been in Paris for three weeks. Tomorrow I join the Guards, in the Cadets.

FIRST MARQUIS:

[watching the people who are coming into the boxes] There's Madame Aubry, the Chief-Justice's wife.

BUFFET-GIRL:

Oranges, milk…

VIOLINISTS:

[tuning up] La…La…

CUIGY:

[to CHRISTIAN, pointing to the hall, which is filling fast] It's really getting crowded.

CHRISTIAN:

Yes, indeed.

FIRST MARQUIS:

The whole great world is arriving!

[They recognize and name the different elegantly dressed ladies who enter the boxes, bowing low to them. The ladies send smiles in answer.]

SECOND MARQUIS:

Madame de Guemenee.

CUIGY:

Madame de Bois-Dauphin.

FIRST MARQUIS:

Adored by us all!

BRISSAILLE:

Madame de Chavigny.

SECOND MARQUIS:

Who plays with our poor hearts!

LIGNIERE:

Ah, there's Corneille. He must be back from Rouen!

BURGHER'S SON:

[to his father] Is the Academy here?

BURGHER:

Oh yes, I see several members. There's Boudu, Boissat, and Cureau de la Chambre, Porcheres, Colomby, Bourzeys, Bourdon, Arbaud. Names that will live forever! How wonderful!

FIRST MARQUIS:

Attention! Our lady intellectuals have arrived! There is Barthenoide, Urimedonte, Cassandace, Felixerie …

SECOND MARQUIS:

Ah, their names are exquisite! Do you know them all, Marquis?

FIRST MARQUIS:

I do indeed, every one!

LIGNIERE:

[drawing CHRISTIAN aside] My friend, I came here tonight to help you, but the lady you seek is not here. I shall go now and return to my vice.

CHRISTIAN:

[persuasively] No, please stay! You are songwriter to the court and the city alike. You know everyone! You are the one who can tell me who she is—the lady for whom I'm dying of love!

FIRST VIOLIN:

[striking his bow on the desk] Gentlemen violinists!

[He raises his bow.]

BUFFET-GIRL:

Macaroons, lemon-drink …

[The violins begin to play.]

CHRISTIAN:

Oh! I'm afraid that she is coquettish and refined! I fear I'm not intelligent enough for her! How can I dare speak with her? I'm only a shy and honest soldier—not very good with words at all. She always sits right there, on the right. Her box is still empty!

LIGNIERE:

[making as if to leave] I must go.

CHRISTIAN:

[detaining him] No, please stay.

LIGNIERE:

I cannot stay. D'Assoucy is waiting for me at the tavern. I'll die of thirst here.

BUFFET-GIRL:

[passing before him with a tray] Orange drink?

LIGNIERE:

Ugh!

BUFFET-GIRL:

Milk?

LIGNIERE:

Pooh!

BUFFET-GIRL:

Wine?

LIGNIERE:

[to CHRISTIAN] Oh, if you insist—I shall stay awhile longer. Now let me try a little of that wine.

[He sits by the buffet; the girl pours some out for him.]

AUDIENCE:

[crying out joyously and excitedly as a plump little man enters] Ah! Ragueneau!

LIGNIERE:

[to CHRISTIAN] It's 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!

RAGUENEAU:

[overcome] You praise me too highly!

LIGNIERE:

Oh, stop! You are a great patron of the arts!

RAGUENEAU:

Well, it is true that poets do come to my bakery …

LIGNIERE:

To buy on credit! You yourself are a talented poet too.

RAGUENEAU:

So they tell me.

LIGNIERE:

You're mad about poetry!

RAGUENEAU:

It is true that, for an ode …

LIGNIERE:

You give a tart!

RAGUENEAU:

Well, just a little tart.

LIGNIERE:

Oh, you're being modest! Now, what do you give for a triolet?

RAGUENEAU:

Oh, maybe a small roll or two.

LIGNIERE:

[severely] Oh, come on! You give milk-rolls, the best kind! And as for the theater, which you love just as much as poetry …

RAGUENEAU:

Oh, I adore the theater!

LIGNIERE:

You pay with pastries! Now, tell me, how much did your ticket tonight cost you?

RAGUENEAU:

Four custards and fifteen cream-puffs. [He looks around on all sides.] Monsieur Cyrano is not here? How strange.

LIGNIERE:

Why?

RAGUENEAU:

Montfleury is playing tonight!

LIGNIERE:

Oh, yes, the fat fool is playing the role of Phedon tonight. But why should Cyrano care about it?

RAGUENEAU:

Haven't you heard? He hates Montfleury and has forbidden him to show his face on stage for a whole month!

LIGNIERE:

[drinking his fourth glass of wine] So?

RAGUENEAU:

Montfleury will play! Unless …

CUIGY:

[who has joined them] Cyrano can't stop him.

RAGUENEAU:

That is what I've come to see!

FIRST MARQUIS:

Who is this Cyrano?

CUIGY:

A fellow who certainly knows how to handle a sword.

SECOND MARQUIS:

Is he of noble birth?

CUIGY:

Noble enough. He's a cadet in the Guards. [He points to a gentleman who is going up and down the hall as if searching for someone.] But his friend, Le Bret, over there, can tell you more about him. [He calls him.] Le Bret! [LE BRET comes over to them.] Are you looking for Cyrano?

LE BRET:

Yes, and I'm beginning to worry.

CUIGY:

He's an extraordinary man, isn't he?

LE BRET:

[tenderly] He is the rarest, most delightful man on earth!

RAGUENEAU:

A poet!

CUIGY:

A soldier!

BRISSAILLE:

A philosopher!

LE BRET:

A musician!

LIGNIERE:

And such a striking appearance!

RAGUENEAU:

No painter today can do him justice! Only the wild and whimsical Jacques Callot, if he were still alive, could have painted Cyrano's portrait. He'd have placed him in some fantastic setting and made Cyrano the maddest fighter there—with his triple-plumed hat and six-tailed jacket and his sword sticking up beneath his cloak like the proud tail of a rooster. He is a true swashbuckler—as bold as the fiercest soldier in Gascony! Above his collar he carries a nose—and my good lords, what a nose it is! When people see it, they immediately think it's a false nose. They think it's a joke and that soon Cyrano will take it off. But, alas, Cyrano never takes it off.