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第12章

cyrano de bergerac(伯吉拉克的赛拉诺)-第12章

小说: cyrano de bergerac(伯吉拉克的赛拉诺) 字数: 每页4000字

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    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 



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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 



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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。) 



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                                   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。 



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    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:          An

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