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cyrano de bergerac(伯吉拉克的赛拉诺)-第12章

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    RAGUENEAU:             Bags?     Good。     I thank   you。  (He looks  at   them): 

Heavens!      my   cherished   leaves!    The    poems    of  my    friends!   Torn; 

dismembered; to make bags for holding biscuits and cakes!。 。 。Ah; 'tis the 

old tale again。 。 。Orpheus and the Bacchantes! 

    LISE (dryly):       And am I not free to turn at last to some use the sole 

thing that your wretched scribblers of halting lines leave behind them by 

way of payment? 

    RAGUENEAU:                 Groveling      ant!。  。   。Insult  not    the   divine 

grasshoppers; the sweet singers! 

    LISE:      Before   you   were   the   sworn   comrade   of   all   that   crew;   my 

friend; you did not call your wife ant and Bacchante! 

    RAGUENEAU:             To turn fair verse to such a use! 

    LISE:      'Faith; 'tis all it's good for。 

    RAGUENEAU:             Pray then; madam; to what use would you degrade 

prose? 



                                   SCENE 2。II。 



    The same。      Two children; who have just trotted into the shop。 

    RAGUENEAU:             What would you; little ones? 



                                            37 


… Page 38…

                              CYRANO DE BERGERAC 



    FIRST CHILD:          Three pies。 

    RAGUENEAU (serving them):               See; hot and well browned。 

    SECOND CHILD:             If it please you; Sir; will you wrap them up for 

us? 

    RAGUENEAU (aside; distressed):               Alas! one  of   my bags!  (To   the 

children):      What?     Must I wrap them up? (He takes a bag; and just as 

he is about to put in the pies; he reads):         'Ulysses thus; on leaving fair 

Penelope。 。 。'     Not that one! (He puts it aside; and takes another; and as 

he is about to put in the pies; he reads):         'The gold…locked Phoebus。 。 。' 

Nay; nor that one!。 。 。 

    (Same play。) 

    LISE (impatiently):        What are you dallying for? 

    RAGUENEAU:             Here! here! here (He chooses a third; resignedly): 

The sonnet to Phillis!。 。 。but 'tis hard to part with it! 

    LISE:      By good luck he has made   up his mind at last!   (Shrugging 

her shoulders):      Nicodemus! 

    (She mounts on a chair; and begins to range plates on a dresser。) 

    RAGUENEAU (taking advantage of the moment she turns her back; 

calls   back    the   children;   who    are  already    at  the   door):      Hist! 

children!。 。 。render me back the sonnet to Phillis; and you shall have six 

pies instead of three。 

    (The children give him back the bag; seize the cakes quickly; and go 

out。) 

    RAGUENEAU            (smoothing     out   the   paper;   begins    to  declaim): 

'Phillis!。 。 。' On that sweet name a smear of butter!         'Phillis!。 。 。' 

    (Cyrano enters hurriedly。) 



                                  SCENE 2。III。 



    Ragueneau; Lise; Cyrano; then the musketeer。 

    CYRANO:          What's o'clock? 

    RAGUENEAU (bowing low):                Six o'clock。 

    CYRANO (with emotion):             In one hour's time! 

    (He paces up and down the shop。) 



                                            38 


… Page 39…

                              CYRANO DE BERGERAC 



    RAGUENEAU (following him):                Bravo!    I saw。 。 。 

    CYRANO:          Well; what saw you; then? 

    RAGUENEAU:             Your combat!。 。 。 

    CYRANO:          Which? 

    RAGUENEAU:             That in the Burgundy Hotel; 'faith! 

    CYRANO (contemptuously):              Ah!。 。 。the duel! 

    RAGUENEAU (admiringly):               Ay! the duel in verse!。 。 。 

    LISE:      He can talk of naught else! 

    CYRANO:          Well!    Good! let be! 

    RAGUENEAU (making passes with a spit that he catches up):                     'At 

the envoi's end; I touch!。 。 。At the envoi's end; I touch!'。 。 。'Tis fine; fine! 

(With increasing enthusiasm):         'At the envoi's end' 

    CYRANO:          What hour is it now; Ragueneau? 

    RAGUENEAU   (stopping   short   in   the   act   of   thrusting   to   look   at   the 

clock):        Five    minutes     after  six!。  。   。'I  touch!'  (He    straightens 

himself):     。 。 。Oh! to write a ballade! 

    LISE     (to  Cyrano;   who;   as  he  passes   by   the  counter;  has  absently 

shaken hands with her):        What's wrong with your hand? 

    CYRANO:          Naught; a slight cut。 

    RAGUENEAU:             Have you been in some danger? 

    CYRANO:          None in the world。 

    LISE (shaking her finger at him):          Methinks you speak not the truth 

in saying that! 

    CYRANO:          Did you see my nose quiver when I spoke?              'Faith; it 

must have been a monstrous lie that should move it! (Changing his tone): 

I   wait   some   one   here。 Leave   us   alone;   and   disturb   us   for   naught   an   it 

were not for crack of doom! 

    RAGUENEAU:             But 'tis impossible; my poets are coming。 。 。 

    LISE (ironically):       Oh; ay; for their first meal o' the day! 

    CYRANO:          Prythee; take them aside when I shall make you sign to 

do so。 。 。What's o'clock? 

    RAGUENEAU:             Ten minutes after six。 

    CYRANO         (nervously    seating   himself    at  Ragueneau's     table;  and 

drawing some paper toward him):            A pen!。 。 。 



                                            39 


… Page 40…

                               CYRANO DE BERGERAC 



    RAGUENEAU (giving him the one from behind his ear):                       Herea 

swan's quill。 

    A   MUSKETEER   (with   fierce   mustache;   enters;   and   in   a   stentorian 

voice):     Good…day! 

     (Lise goes up to him quickly。) 

    CYRANO (turning round):             Who's that? 

    RAGUENEAU:              'Tis a friend of my wifea terrible warriorat least 

so says he himself。 

    CYRANO         (taking   up   the  pen;   and   motioning    Ragueneau      away): 

Hush! (To himself):         I will write; fold it; give it her; and fly! (Throws 

down   the   pen):     Coward!。   。   。But   strike   me   dead   if   I   dare   to   speak   to 

her;。 。 。ay; even one single word! (To Ragueneau):            What time is it? 

    RAGUENEAU:             A quarter after six!。 。 。 

    CYRANO (striking his breast):            Aya single word of all those here! 

here!    But writing; 'tis easier done。 。 。 (He takes up the pen):           Go to; I 

will write it; that love…letter!    Oh!    I have writ it and rewrit it in my own 

mind so oft that it lies there ready for pen and ink; and if I lay but my soul 

by my letter…sheet; 'tis naught to do but to copy from it。 

     (He   writes。   Through   the   glass   of   the   door   the   silhouettes   of   their 

figures move uncertainly and hesitatingly。) 



                                   SCENE 2。IV。 



    Ragueneau;   Lise;   the   musketeer。     Cyrano   at   the   little   table   writing。 

The poets;
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