cyrano de bergerac-第4部分
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THE BORE： The Duke has a long arm！
CYRANO： But not so long As mine； when it is lengthened out。 。 。 （Shows his sword）： As thus！
THE BORE： You think not to contend？
CYRANO： 'Tis my idea！
THE BORE： But。 。 。
CYRANO： Show your heels！ now！
THE BORE： But I。 。 。
CYRANO： Or tell me why you stare so at my nose！
THE BORE （staggered）： I。 。 。
CYRANO （walking straight up to him）： Well； what is there strange？
THE BORE （drawing back）： Your Grace mistakes！
CYRANO： How now？ Is't soft and dangling； like a trunk？。 。 。
THE BORE （same play）： I never。 。 。
CYRANO： Is it crook'd； like an owl's beak？
THE BORE： I。 。 。
CYRANO： Do you see a wart upon the tip？
THE BORE： Nay。 。 。
CYRANO： Or a fly； that takes the air there？ What Is there to stare at？
THE BORE： Oh。 。 。
CYRANO： What do you see？
THE BORE： But I was careful not to lookknew better。
CYRANO： And why not look at it； an if you please？
THE BORE： I was。 。 。
CYRANO： Oh！ it disgusts you！
THE BORE： Sir！
CYRANO： Its hue Unwholesome seems to you？
THE BORE： Sir！
CYRANO： Or its shape？
THE BORE： No； on the contrary！。 。 。
CYRANO： Why then that air Disparaging？perchance you think it large？
THE BORE （stammering）： No； small； quite smallminute！
CYRANO： Minute！ What now？ Accuse me of a thing ridiculous！ Smallmy nose？
THE BORE： Heaven help me！
CYRANO： 'Tis enormous！ Old Flathead； empty…headed meddler； know That I am proud possessing such appendice。 'Tis well known； a big nose is indicative Of a soul affable； and kind； and courteous； Liberal； brave； just like myself； and such As you can never dare to dream yourself； Rascal contemptible！ For that witless face That my hand soon will come to cuffis all As empty。 。 。
（He cuffs him。）
THE BORE： Aie！
CYRANO： of pride； of aspiration； Of feeling； poetryof godlike spark Of all that appertains to my big nose； （He turns him by the shoulders； suiting the action to the word）： As。 。 。what my boot will shortly come and kick！
THE BORE （running away）： Help！ Call the Guard！
CYRANO： Take notice； boobies all； Who find my visage's center ornament A thing to jest atthat it is my wont An if the jester's nobleere we part To let him taste my steel； and not my boot！
DE GUICHE （who； with the marquises； has come down from the stage）： But he becomes a nuisance！
THE VISCOUNT DE VALVERT （shrugging his shoulders）： Swaggerer！
DE GUICHE： Will no one put him down？。 。 。
THE VISCOUNT： No one？ But wait！ I'll treat him to。 。 。one of my quips！。 。 。See here！。 。 。 （He goes up to Cyrano； who is watching him； and with a conceited air）： Sir； your nose is。 。 。hmm。 。 。it is。 。 。very big！
CYRANO （gravely）： Very！
THE VISCOUNT （laughing）： Ha！
CYRANO （imperturbably）： Is that all？。 。 。
THE VISCOUNT： What do you mean？
CYRANO： Ah no！ young blade！ That was a trifle short！ You might have said at least a hundred things By varying the tone。 。 。like this； suppose；。 。 。 Aggressive： 'Sir； if I had such a nose I'd amputate it！' Friendly： 'When you sup It must annoy you； dipping in your cup； You need a drinking…bowl of special shape！' Descriptive： ''Tis a rock！。 。 。a peak！。 。 。a cape！ A cape； forsooth！ 'Tis a peninsular！' Curious： 'How serves that oblong capsular？ For scissor…sheath？ Or pot to hold your ink？' Gracious： 'You love the little birds； I think？ I see you've managed with a fond research To find their tiny claws a roomy perch！' Truculent： 'When you smoke your pipe。 。 。suppose That the tobacco…smoke spouts from your nose Do not the neighbors； as the fumes rise higher； Cry terror…struck： 〃The chimney is afire〃？' Considerate： 'Take care；。 。 。your head bowed low By such a weight。 。 。lest head o'er heels you go！' Tender： 'Pray get a small umbrella made； Lest its bright color in the sun should fade！' Pedantic： 'That beast Aristophanes Names Hippocamelelephantoles Must have possessed just such a solid lump Of flesh and bone； beneath his forehead's bump！' Cavalier： 'The last fashion； friend； that hook？ To hang your hat on？ 'Tis a useful crook！' Emphatic： 'No wind； O majestic nose； Can give THEE cold！save when the mistral blows！' Dramatic： 'When it bleeds； what a Red Sea！' Admiring： 'Sign for a perfumery！' Lyric： 'Is this a conch？。 。 。a Triton you？' Simple： 'When is the monument on view？' Rustic： 'That thing a nose？ Marry…come…up！ 'Tis a dwarf pumpkin； or a prize turnip！' Military： 'Point against cavalry！' Practical： 'Put it in a lottery！ Assuredly 'twould be the biggest prize！' Or。 。 。parodying Pyramus' sighs。 。 。 'Behold the nose that mars the harmony Of its master's phiz！ blushing its treachery！' Such； my dear sir； is what you might have said； Had you of wit or letters the least jot： But； O most lamentable man！of wit You never had an atom； and of letters You have three letters only！they spell Ass！ Andhad you had the necessary wit； To serve me all the pleasantries I quote Before this noble audience。 。 。e'en so； You would not have been let to utter one Nay； not the half or quarter of such jest！ I take them from myself all in good part； But not from any other man that breathes！
DE GUICHE （trying to draw away the dismayed viscount）： Come away； Viscount！
THE VISCOUNT （choking with rage）： Hear his arrogance！ A country lout who。 。 。who。 。 。has got no gloves！ Who goes out without sleeve…knots； ribbons； lace！
CYRANO： True； all my elegances are within。 I do not prank myself out； puppy…like； My toilet is more thorough； if less gay； I would not sally fortha half…washed…out Affront upon my cheeka conscience Yellow…eyed； bilious； from its sodden sleep； A ruffled honor；。 。 。scruples grimed and dull！ I show no bravery of shining gems。 Truth； Independence； are my fluttering plumes。 'Tis not my form I lace to make me slim； But brace my soul with efforts as with stays； Covered with exploits； not with ribbon…knots； My spirit bristling high like your mustaches； I； traversing the crowds and chattering groups Make Truth ring bravely out like clash of spurs！
THE VISCOUNT： But； Sir。 。 。
CYRANO： I wear no gloves？ And what of that？ I had one；。 。 。remnant of an old worn pair； And； knowing not what else to do with it； I threw it in the face of。 。 。some young fool。
THE VISCOUNT： Base scoundrel！ Rascally flat…footed lout！
CYRANO （taking off his hat； and bowing as if the viscount had introduced himself）： Ah？。 。 。and I； Cyrano Savinien Hercule de Bergerac
（Laughter。）
THE VISCOUNT （angrily）： Buffoon！
CYRANO （calling out as if he had been seized with the cramp）： Aie！ Aie！
THE VISCOUNT （who was going away； turns back）： What on earth is the fellow saying now？
CYRANO （with grimaces of pain）： It must be movedit's getting stiff； I vow； This comes of leaving it in idleness！ Aie！。 。 。
THE VISCOUNT： What ails you？
CYRANO： The cramp！ cramp in my sword！
THE VISCOUNT （drawing his sword）： Good！
CYRANO： You shall feel a charming little stroke！
THE VISCOUNT （contemptuously）： Poet！。 。 。
CYRANO： Ay； poet； Sir！ In proof of which； While we fence； presto！ all extempore I will compose a ballade。
THE VISCOUNT： A ballade？
CYRANO： Belike you know not what a ballade is。
THE VISCOUNT： But。 。 。
CYRANO （reciting； as if repeating a lesson）： Know then that the ballade should contain Three eight…versed couplets。 。 。
THE VISCOUNT （stamping）： Oh！
CYRANO （still reciting）： And an envoi Of four lines。 。 。
THE VISCOUNT： You。 。 。
CYRANO： I'll make one while we fight； And touch you at the final line。
THE VISCOUNT： No！
CYRANO： No？ （declaiming）： The duel in Hotel of Burgundyfought By De Bergerac and a good…for…naught！
THE VISCOUNT： What may that be； an if you please？
CYRANO： The title。
THE HOUSE （in great excitement）： Give room！Good sport！Make place！Fair play！No noise！
（Tableau。 A circle of curious spectators in the pit； the marquises and officers mingled with the common people； the pages climbing on each other's shoulders to see better。 All the women standing up in the boxes。 To the right； De Guiche and his retinue。 Left； Le Bret； Ragueneau； Cyrano； etc。）
CYRANO （shutting his eyes for a second）： Wait while I choose my rhymes。 。 。I have them now！ （He suits the action to each word）： I gayly doff my beaver low； And； freeing hand and heel； My heavy mantle off I throw； And I draw my polished steel； Graceful as Phoebus； round I wheel； Alert as Scaramouch； A word in your ear； Sir Spark； I steal At the envoi's end； I touch！ （They engage）： Better for you had you lain low； Where skewer my cock？ In the heel？ In the heart； your ribbon blue below？ In the hip； and make you kneel？ Ho for the music of clashing steel！ What now？A hit？ Not much！ 'Twill be in the paunch the stroke I steal； When； at the envoi； I touch。
Oh； for a rhyme； a rhyme in o？ You wriggle； starch…white； my eel？ A rhyme！ a rhyme！ The white feather you SHOW！ Tac！ I parry the point of your steel； The point you hoped to make me feel； I open the line； now clutch Your spit； Sir Scullionslow your zeal！ At the envoi's end； I touch。 （He declaims solemnly）： Envoi。 Prince； pray Heaven for your soul's weal！ I move a pacelo； such！ and such！ Cut overfeint！ （Thrusting）： What ho！ You reel？ （The viscount staggers。 Cyrano salutes）： At the envoi's end； I touch！
（Acclamations。 Applause in the boxes。 Flowers and handkerchiefs are thrown down。 The officers surround Cyrano； congratulating him。 Ragueneau dances for joy。 Le Bret is happy； but anxious。 The viscount's friends hold him up and bear him away。）
THE CROWD （with one long shout）： Ah！
A TROOPER： 'Tis superb！
A WOMAN： A pretty stroke！
RAGUENEAU： A marvel！
A MARQUIS： A novelty！
LE BRET： O madman！
THE CROWD （presses round Cyrano。 Chorus of）： Compliments！ Bravo！ Let me congratulate！。 。 。Quite unsurpassed！。 。 。
A WOMAN'S VOICE： There is a hero for you！。 。 。
A MUSKETEER （adv
