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shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/20.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_19_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 1.chapter 20

chapter 20

{"name": "Chapter 20", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-20", "summary": "After his disastrous newbie mistake, Joe Green turns out to be a good stable boy after all, with his small size being his only disadvantage. One morning Joe rides Beauty out to deliver a note. On their way back, they find a cart full of bricks that's stuck in the mud, with the carter \"shouting and flogging the two horses unmercifully\" . Uh-uh... Beauty seems to have a knack for finding horses who are being mistreated. Joe implores the carter to stop, but the man won't listen; Beauty thinks the man may be drunk. Joe urges Beauty to the nearby house of the brick maker, where he reports this incident. When they get home, John is shocked at Joe's anger and tells the boy he did the right thing. Later on, Joe is called up to Squire Gordon's house to give evidence against the man who'd whipped the horses. When Joe gets back to the stable, he's in a very good mood, and Beauty hears later that the carter was sent to a trial, and might even get prison time because of Joe's testimony. Beauty notes that Joe seems to grow up a lot after this, that \"there was more purpose and determination in all that he did--as if he had jumped all at once from a boy into a man\" .", "analysis": ""}

20 Joe Green Joe Green went on very well; he learned quickly, and was so attentive and careful that John began to trust him in many things; but as I have said, he was small of his age, and it was seldom that he was allowed to exercise either Ginger or me; but it so happened one morning that John was out with Justice in the luggage cart, and the master wanted a note to be taken immediately to a gentleman's house, about three miles distant, and sent his orders for Joe to saddle me and take it, adding the caution that he was to ride steadily. The note was delivered, and we were quietly returning when we came to the brick-field. Here we saw a cart heavily laden with bricks; the wheels had stuck fast in the stiff mud of some deep ruts, and the carter was shouting and flogging the two horses unmercifully. Joe pulled up. It was a sad sight. There were the two horses straining and struggling with all their might to drag the cart out, but they could not move it; the sweat streamed from their legs and flanks, their sides heaved, and every muscle was strained, while the man, fiercely pulling at the head of the fore horse, swore and lashed most brutally. "Hold hard," said Joe; "don't go on flogging the horses like that; the wheels are so stuck that they cannot move the cart." The man took no heed, but went on lashing. "Stop! pray stop!" said Joe. "I'll help you to lighten the cart; they can't move it now." "Mind your own business, you impudent young rascal, and I'll mind mine!" The man was in a towering passion and the worse for drink, and laid on the whip again. Joe turned my head, and the next moment we were going at a round gallop toward the house of the master brick-maker. I cannot say if John would have approved of our pace, but Joe and I were both of one mind, and so angry that we could not have gone slower. The house stood close by the roadside. Joe knocked at the door, and shouted, "Halloo! Is Mr. Clay at home?" The door was opened, and Mr. Clay himself came out. "Halloo, young man! You seem in a hurry; any orders from the squire this morning?" "No, Mr. Clay, but there's a fellow in your brick-yard flogging two horses to death. I told him to stop, and he wouldn't; I said I'd help him to lighten the cart, and he wouldn't; so I have come to tell you. Pray, sir, go." Joe's voice shook with excitement. "Thank ye, my lad," said the man, running in for his hat; then pausing for a moment, "Will you give evidence of what you saw if I should bring the fellow up before a magistrate?" "That I will," said Joe, "and glad too." The man was gone, and we were on our way home at a smart trot. "Why, what's the matter with you, Joe? You look angry all over," said John, as the boy flung himself from the saddle. "I am angry all over, I can tell you," said the boy, and then in hurried, excited words he told all that had happened. Joe was usually such a quiet, gentle little fellow that it was wonderful to see him so roused. "Right, Joe! you did right, my boy, whether the fellow gets a summons or not. Many folks would have ridden by and said it was not their business to interfere. Now I say that with cruelty and oppression it is everybody's business to interfere when they see it; you did right, my boy." Joe was quite calm by this time, and proud that John approved of him, and cleaned out my feet and rubbed me down with a firmer hand than usual. They were just going home to dinner when the footman came down to the stable to say that Joe was wanted directly in master's private room; there was a man brought up for ill-using horses, and Joe's evidence was wanted. The boy flushed up to his forehead, and his eyes sparkled. "They shall have it," said he. "Put yourself a bit straight," said John. Joe gave a pull at his necktie and a twitch at his jacket, and was off in a moment. Our master being one of the county magistrates, cases were often brought to him to settle, or say what should be done. In the stable we heard no more for some time, as it was the men's dinner hour, but when Joe came next into the stable I saw he was in high spirits; he gave me a good-natured slap, and said, "We won't see such things done, will we, old fellow?" We heard afterward that he had given his evidence so clearly, and the horses were in such an exhausted state, bearing marks of such brutal usage, that the carter was committed to take his trial, and might possibly be sentenced to two or three months in prison. It was wonderful what a change had come over Joe. John laughed, and said he had grown an inch taller in that week, and I believe he had. He was just as kind and gentle as before, but there was more purpose and determination in all that he did--as if he had jumped at once from a boy into a man.

Chapter 20

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-20

After his disastrous newbie mistake, Joe Green turns out to be a good stable boy after all, with his small size being his only disadvantage. One morning Joe rides Beauty out to deliver a note. On their way back, they find a cart full of bricks that's stuck in the mud, with the carter "shouting and flogging the two horses unmercifully" . Uh-uh... Beauty seems to have a knack for finding horses who are being mistreated. Joe implores the carter to stop, but the man won't listen; Beauty thinks the man may be drunk. Joe urges Beauty to the nearby house of the brick maker, where he reports this incident. When they get home, John is shocked at Joe's anger and tells the boy he did the right thing. Later on, Joe is called up to Squire Gordon's house to give evidence against the man who'd whipped the horses. When Joe gets back to the stable, he's in a very good mood, and Beauty hears later that the carter was sent to a trial, and might even get prison time because of Joe's testimony. Beauty notes that Joe seems to grow up a lot after this, that "there was more purpose and determination in all that he did--as if he had jumped all at once from a boy into a man" .

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/21.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_20_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 1.chapter 21

chapter 21

{"name": "Chapter 21", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-21", "summary": "Beauty has lived at Birtwick for three years, but things are about to change. Squire Gordon's wife is ill, and the doctor visits frequently; at last the horses hear that their mistress has to go live someplace warm for several years. Everyone's very upset: \"The news fell upon the household like the tolling of a death-bell\" . John and Joe seem very sad, and the horses work hard due to all the \"coming and going\" . As the family comes to bid the horses goodbye, the horses learn their fate: Ginger and Beauty have been sold to someone referred to as the \"Earl of W__,\" and Merrylegs has been given to the vicar only on the condition that he should never be sold, with Joe accompanying him. John has not decided what to do, and when Squire Gordon asks, John tells him he's hoping to get a job training horses and breaking colts. Squire Gordon thinks that John would be perfect for this job. After a wrenching farewell, Squire Gordon leaves the stable, and the family prepares to depart. It's obvious that Squire Gordon's family is much loved by their servants and the other people in the town--there's not a dry eye in the house as they say their goodbyes. \"Poor Joe! He stood close up to our heads to hide his tears\" , Beauty says. They drop the Gordons at the train station and turn back to Birtwick, \" But it was not our home now\" , Beauty thinks.", "analysis": ""}

21 The Parting Now I had lived in this happy place three years, but sad changes were about to come over us. We heard from time to time that our mistress was ill. The doctor was often at the house, and the master looked grave and anxious. Then we heard that she must leave her home at once, and go to a warm country for two or three years. The news fell upon the household like the tolling of a deathbell. Everybody was sorry; but the master began directly to make arrangements for breaking up his establishment and leaving England. We used to hear it talked about in our stable; indeed, nothing else was talked about. John went about his work silent and sad, and Joe scarcely whistled. There was a great deal of coming and going; Ginger and I had full work. The first of the party who went were Miss Jessie and Flora, with their governess. They came to bid us good-by. They hugged poor Merrylegs like an old friend, and so indeed he was. Then we heard what had been arranged for us. Master had sold Ginger and me to his old friend, the Earl of W----, for he thought we should have a good place there. Merrylegs he had given to the vicar, who was wanting a pony for Mrs. Blomefield, but it was on the condition that he should never be sold, and that when he was past work he should be shot and buried. Joe was engaged to take care of him and to help in the house, so I thought that Merrylegs was well off. John had the offer of several good places, but he said he should wait a little and look round. The evening before they left the master came into the stable to give some directions, and to give his horses the last pat. He seemed very low-spirited; I knew that by his voice. I believe we horses can tell more by the voice than many men can. "Have you decided what to do, John?" he said. "I find you have not accepted either of those offers." "No, sir; I have made up my mind that if I could get a situation with some first-rate colt-breaker and horse-trainer, it would be the right thing for me. Many young animals are frightened and spoiled by wrong treatment, which need not be if the right man took them in hand. I always get on well with horses, and if I could help some of them to a fair start I should feel as if I was doing some good. What do you think of it, sir?" "I don't know a man anywhere," said master, "that I should think so suitable for it as yourself. You understand horses, and somehow they understand you, and in time you might set up for yourself; I think you could not do better. If in any way I can help you, write to me. I shall speak to my agent in London, and leave your character with him." Master gave John the name and address, and then he thanked him for his long and faithful service; but that was too much for John. "Pray, don't, sir, I can't bear it; you and my dear mistress have done so much for me that I could never repay it. But we shall never forget you, sir, and please God, we may some day see mistress back again like herself; we must keep up hope, sir." Master gave John his hand, but he did not speak, and they both left the stable. The last sad day had come; the footman and the heavy luggage had gone off the day before, and there were only master and mistress and her maid. Ginger and I brought the carriage up to the hall door for the last time. The servants brought out cushions and rugs and many other things; and when all were arranged master came down the steps carrying the mistress in his arms (I was on the side next to the house, and could see all that went on); he placed her carefully in the carriage, while the house servants stood round crying. "Good-by, again," he said; "we shall not forget any of you," and he got in. "Drive on, John." Joe jumped up, and we trotted slowly through the park and through the village, where the people were standing at their doors to have a last look and to say, "God bless them." When we reached the railway station I think mistress walked from the carriage to the waiting-room. I heard her say in her own sweet voice, "Good-by, John. God bless you." I felt the rein twitch, but John made no answer; perhaps he could not speak. As soon as Joe had taken the things out of the carriage John called him to stand by the horses, while he went on the platform. Poor Joe! he stood close up to our heads to hide his tears. Very soon the train came puffing up into the station; then two or three minutes, and the doors were slammed to, the guard whistled, and the train glided away, leaving behind it only clouds of white smoke and some very heavy hearts. When it was quite out of sight John came back. "We shall never see her again," he said--"never." He took the reins, mounted the box, and with Joe drove slowly home; but it was not our home now.

Chapter 21

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-21

Beauty has lived at Birtwick for three years, but things are about to change. Squire Gordon's wife is ill, and the doctor visits frequently; at last the horses hear that their mistress has to go live someplace warm for several years. Everyone's very upset: "The news fell upon the household like the tolling of a death-bell" . John and Joe seem very sad, and the horses work hard due to all the "coming and going" . As the family comes to bid the horses goodbye, the horses learn their fate: Ginger and Beauty have been sold to someone referred to as the "Earl of W__," and Merrylegs has been given to the vicar only on the condition that he should never be sold, with Joe accompanying him. John has not decided what to do, and when Squire Gordon asks, John tells him he's hoping to get a job training horses and breaking colts. Squire Gordon thinks that John would be perfect for this job. After a wrenching farewell, Squire Gordon leaves the stable, and the family prepares to depart. It's obvious that Squire Gordon's family is much loved by their servants and the other people in the town--there's not a dry eye in the house as they say their goodbyes. "Poor Joe! He stood close up to our heads to hide his tears" , Beauty says. They drop the Gordons at the train station and turn back to Birtwick, " But it was not our home now" , Beauty thinks.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/23.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_22_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 2.chapter 23

chapter 23

{"name": "Chapter 23", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-23", "summary": "One day, Lady W comes down and tells the groom to raise Beauty and Ginger's heads even higher. Beauty thinks it feels \"almost intolerable\" , and clearly there's no \"almost\" for Ginger--she's done. She rears up, startling York and a groom, and then \"went on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most desperate manner\" . She hits part of the carriage and falls down, and finally York sits on her head and yells at his grooms to detach Beauty. Back at the stable, Beauty is furious, and even though he says he would never kick or rear, he \"felt very much inclined to kick the first person who came near me\" . Whoa. Literally. Finally Ginger is led back to the stable by York, who's muttering to himself about the evil bearing reins. York treats the cut Beauty got in the scuffle. Lord W is apparently not pleased, and blames York. Ginger never drives the carriage again, and is given to one of Lord W's younger sons as a riding horse. Beauty gets a new carriage partner named Max, and right off the bat, he asks Max how he deals with the bearing rein. Max says he just does it because he has to, \" but it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too, if you have to stick to it\" . Yikes. Beauty wonders if horse owners know how bad it is for them, and Max says he isn't sure. He basically says that he's watched horses have their necks strained by the reins, only to be sold or traded as soon as they are unhealthy or worn out. Beauty has to wear the rein for four months, and says that if the ordeal had gone on longer, \" either my health or my temper would have given way\" . He recalls having friends like John and Squire Gordon at Birtwick, and says that here at Earlshall he has no friends.", "analysis": ""}

23 A Strike for Liberty One day my lady came down later than usual, and the silk rustled more than ever. "Drive to the Duchess of B----'s," she said, and then after a pause, "Are you never going to get those horses' heads up, York? Raise them at once and let us have no more of this humoring and nonsense." York came to me first, while the groom stood at Ginger's head. He drew my head back and fixed the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable; then he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerking her head up and down against the bit, as was her way now. She had a good idea of what was coming, and the moment York took the rein off the terret in order to shorten it she took her opportunity and reared up so suddenly that York had his nose roughly hit and his hat knocked off; the groom was nearly thrown off his legs. At once they both flew to her head; but she was a match for them, and went on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most desperate manner. At last she kicked right over the carriage pole and fell down, after giving me a severe blow on my near quarter. There is no knowing what further mischief she might have done had not York promptly sat himself down flat on her head to prevent her struggling, at the same time calling out, "Unbuckle the black horse! Run for the winch and unscrew the carriage pole! Cut the trace here, somebody, if you can't unhitch it!" One of the footmen ran for the winch, and another brought a knife from the house. The groom soon set me free from Ginger and the carriage, and led me to my box. He just turned me in as I was and ran back to York. I was much excited by what had happened, and if I had ever been used to kick or rear I am sure I should have done it then; but I never had, and there I stood, angry, sore in my leg, my head still strained up to the terret on the saddle, and no power to get it down. I was very miserable and felt much inclined to kick the first person who came near me. Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. York came with her and gave his orders, and then came to look at me. In a moment he let down my head. "Confound these check-reins!" he said to himself; "I thought we should have some mischief soon. Master will be sorely vexed. But there, if a woman's husband can't rule her of course a servant can't; so I wash my hands of it, and if she can't get to the duchess' garden party I can't help it." York did not say this before the men; he always spoke respectfully when they were by. Now he felt me all over, and soon found the place above my hock where I had been kicked. It was swelled and painful; he ordered it to be sponged with hot water, and then some lotion was put on. Lord W---- was much put out when he learned what had happened; he blamed York for giving way to his mistress, to which he replied that in future he would much prefer to receive his orders only from his lordship; but I think nothing came of it, for things went on the same as before. I thought York might have stood up better for his horses, but perhaps I am no judge. Ginger was never put into the carriage again, but when she was well of her bruises one of the Lord W----'s younger sons said he should like to have her; he was sure she would make a good hunter. As for me, I was obliged still to go in the carriage, and had a fresh partner called Max; he had always been used to the tight rein. I asked him how it was he bore it. "Well," he said, "I bear it because I must; but it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too if you have to stick to it." "Do you think," I said, "that our masters know how bad it is for us?" "I can't say," he replied, "but the dealers and the horse-doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer's once, who was training me and another horse to go as a pair; he was getting our heads up, as he said, a little higher and a little higher every day. A gentleman who was there asked him why he did so. 'Because,' said he, 'people won't buy them unless we do. The London people always want their horses to carry their heads high and to step high. Of course it is very bad for the horses, but then it is good for trade. The horses soon wear up, or get diseased, and they come for another pair.' That," said Max, "is what he said in my hearing, and you can judge for yourself." What I suffered with that rein for four long months in my lady's carriage it would be hard to describe; but I am quite sure that, had it lasted much longer, either my health or my temper would have given way. Before that, I never knew what it was to foam at the mouth, but now the action of the sharp bit on my tongue and jaw, and the constrained position of my head and throat, always caused me to froth at the mouth more or less. Some people think it very fine to see this, and say, "What fine spirited creatures!" But it is just as unnatural for horses as for men to foam at the mouth; it is a sure sign of some discomfort, and should be attended to. Besides this, there was a pressure on my windpipe, which often made my breathing very uncomfortable; when I returned from my work my neck and chest were strained and painful, my mouth and tongue tender, and I felt worn and depressed. In my old home I always knew that John and my master were my friends; but here, although in many ways I was well treated, I had no friend. York might have known, and very likely did know, how that rein harassed me; but I suppose he took it as a matter of course that it could not be helped; at any rate, nothing was done to relieve me.

Chapter 23

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-23

One day, Lady W comes down and tells the groom to raise Beauty and Ginger's heads even higher. Beauty thinks it feels "almost intolerable" , and clearly there's no "almost" for Ginger--she's done. She rears up, startling York and a groom, and then "went on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most desperate manner" . She hits part of the carriage and falls down, and finally York sits on her head and yells at his grooms to detach Beauty. Back at the stable, Beauty is furious, and even though he says he would never kick or rear, he "felt very much inclined to kick the first person who came near me" . Whoa. Literally. Finally Ginger is led back to the stable by York, who's muttering to himself about the evil bearing reins. York treats the cut Beauty got in the scuffle. Lord W is apparently not pleased, and blames York. Ginger never drives the carriage again, and is given to one of Lord W's younger sons as a riding horse. Beauty gets a new carriage partner named Max, and right off the bat, he asks Max how he deals with the bearing rein. Max says he just does it because he has to, " but it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too, if you have to stick to it" . Yikes. Beauty wonders if horse owners know how bad it is for them, and Max says he isn't sure. He basically says that he's watched horses have their necks strained by the reins, only to be sold or traded as soon as they are unhealthy or worn out. Beauty has to wear the rein for four months, and says that if the ordeal had gone on longer, " either my health or my temper would have given way" . He recalls having friends like John and Squire Gordon at Birtwick, and says that here at Earlshall he has no friends.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/25.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_24_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 2.chapter 25

chapter 25

{"name": "Chapter 25", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-25", "summary": "The man left in charge of the stables when York goes to London is named Reuben Smith, and Beauty thinks he's fantastic... as long as he isn't drinking, that is. He doesn't drink often, but apparently when he does, it's a total disaster. York almost gets rid of him because of this vice, but Smith is so valuable and talented with horses that he gets another chance. Beauty is chosen to make a journey with Smith to return Colonel Blantyre to his regiment in town. On the way back, Smith stops at an inn with Beauty, where the ostler notices that Beauty has a loose nail in his shoe. Smith says it'll be fine, and Beauty thinks this is kind of unusual, since he's usually so careful. Smith gets angry with the ostler--even more unusual--and takes off with Beauty, whipping him unnecessarily. There's definitely something wrong with Beauty's shoe, and finally it comes off as they're running at top speed, which is super not good. Making things worse, Smith's too drunk to notice that something's wrong with our main stallion. They turn onto a road covered in fresh stones, and Beauty is forced to run full speed ahead while missing a shoe. He breaks his hoof, splitting it to the quick and cutting the inside badly. He stumbles from the pain and falls badly on his knees, accidentally throwing Smith. Beauty limps to the side of the road, but Smith doesn't move. No one comes, and Beauty stands and waits in agonizing pain. It's a lovely night, and Beauty can't help thinking of summer nights spent lying next to his mother. At a moment like this, anyone would miss their mom.", "analysis": ""}

25 Reuben Smith Now I must say a little about Reuben Smith, who was left in charge of the stables when York went to London. No one more thoroughly understood his business than he did, and when he was all right there could not be a more faithful or valuable man. He was gentle and very clever in his management of horses, and could doctor them almost as well as a farrier, for he had lived two years with a veterinary surgeon. He was a first-rate driver; he could take a four-in-hand or a tandem as easily as a pair. He was a handsome man, a good scholar, and had very pleasant manners. I believe everybody liked him; certainly the horses did. The only wonder was that he should be in an under situation and not in the place of a head coachman like York; but he had one great fault and that was the love of drink. He was not like some men, always at it; he used to keep steady for weeks or months together, and then he would break out and have a "bout" of it, as York called it, and be a disgrace to himself, a terror to his wife, and a nuisance to all that had to do with him. He was, however, so useful that two or three times York had hushed the matter up and kept it from the earl's knowledge; but one night, when Reuben had to drive a party home from a ball he was so drunk that he could not hold the reins, and a gentleman of the party had to mount the box and drive the ladies home. Of course, this could not be hidden, and Reuben was at once dismissed; his poor wife and little children had to turn out of the pretty cottage by the park gate and go where they could. Old Max told me all this, for it happened a good while ago; but shortly before Ginger and I came Smith had been taken back again. York had interceded for him with the earl, who is very kind-hearted, and the man had promised faithfully that he would never taste another drop as long as he lived there. He had kept his promise so well that York thought he might be safely trusted to fill his place while he was away, and he was so clever and honest that no one else seemed so well fitted for it. It was now early in April, and the family was expected home some time in May. The light brougham was to be fresh done up, and as Colonel Blantyre was obliged to return to his regiment it was arranged that Smith should drive him to the town in it, and ride back; for this purpose he took the saddle with him, and I was chosen for the journey. At the station the colonel put some money into Smith's hand and bid him good-by, saying, "Take care of your young mistress, Reuben, and don't let Black Auster be hacked about by any random young prig that wants to ride him--keep him for the lady." We left the carriage at the maker's, and Smith rode me to the White Lion, and ordered the hostler to feed me well, and have me ready for him at four o'clock. A nail in one of my front shoes had started as I came along, but the hostler did not notice it till just about four o'clock. Smith did not come into the yard till five, and then he said he should not leave till six, as he had met with some old friends. The man then told him of the nail, and asked if he should have the shoe looked to. "No," said Smith, "that will be all right till we get home." He spoke in a very loud, offhand way, and I thought it very unlike him not to see about the shoe, as he was generally wonderfully particular about loose nails in our shoes. He did not come at six nor seven, nor eight, and it was nearly nine o'clock before he called for me, and then it was with a loud, rough voice. He seemed in a very bad temper, and abused the hostler, though I could not tell what for. The landlord stood at the door and said, "Have a care, Mr. Smith!" but he answered angrily with an oath; and almost before he was out of the town he began to gallop, frequently giving me a sharp cut with his whip, though I was going at full speed. The moon had not yet risen, and it was very dark. The roads were stony, having been recently mended; going over them at this pace, my shoe became looser, and as we neared the turnpike gate it came off. If Smith had been in his right senses he would have been sensible of something wrong in my pace, but he was too drunk to notice. Beyond the turnpike was a long piece of road, upon which fresh stones had just been laid--large sharp stones, over which no horse could be driven quickly without risk of danger. Over this road, with one shoe gone, I was forced to gallop at my utmost speed, my rider meanwhile cutting into me with his whip, and with wild curses urging me to go still faster. Of course my shoeless foot suffered dreadfully; the hoof was broken and split down to the very quick, and the inside was terribly cut by the sharpness of the stones. This could not go on; no horse could keep his footing under such circumstances; the pain was too great. I stumbled, and fell with violence on both my knees. Smith was flung off by my fall, and, owing to the speed I was going at, he must have fallen with great force. I soon recovered my feet and limped to the side of the road, where it was free from stones. The moon had just risen above the hedge, and by its light I could see Smith lying a few yards beyond me. He did not rise; he made one slight effort to do so, and then there was a heavy groan. I could have groaned, too, for I was suffering intense pain both from my foot and knees; but horses are used to bear their pain in silence. I uttered no sound, but I stood there and listened. One more heavy groan from Smith; but though he now lay in the full moonlight I could see no motion. I could do nothing for him nor myself, but, oh! how I listened for the sound of horse, or wheels, or footsteps! The road was not much frequented, and at this time of the night we might stay for hours before help came to us. I stood watching and listening. It was a calm, sweet April night; there were no sounds but a few low notes of a nightingale, and nothing moved but the white clouds near the moon and a brown owl that flitted over the hedge. It made me think of the summer nights long ago, when I used to lie beside my mother in the green pleasant meadow at Farmer Grey's.

Chapter 25

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-25

The man left in charge of the stables when York goes to London is named Reuben Smith, and Beauty thinks he's fantastic... as long as he isn't drinking, that is. He doesn't drink often, but apparently when he does, it's a total disaster. York almost gets rid of him because of this vice, but Smith is so valuable and talented with horses that he gets another chance. Beauty is chosen to make a journey with Smith to return Colonel Blantyre to his regiment in town. On the way back, Smith stops at an inn with Beauty, where the ostler notices that Beauty has a loose nail in his shoe. Smith says it'll be fine, and Beauty thinks this is kind of unusual, since he's usually so careful. Smith gets angry with the ostler--even more unusual--and takes off with Beauty, whipping him unnecessarily. There's definitely something wrong with Beauty's shoe, and finally it comes off as they're running at top speed, which is super not good. Making things worse, Smith's too drunk to notice that something's wrong with our main stallion. They turn onto a road covered in fresh stones, and Beauty is forced to run full speed ahead while missing a shoe. He breaks his hoof, splitting it to the quick and cutting the inside badly. He stumbles from the pain and falls badly on his knees, accidentally throwing Smith. Beauty limps to the side of the road, but Smith doesn't move. No one comes, and Beauty stands and waits in agonizing pain. It's a lovely night, and Beauty can't help thinking of summer nights spent lying next to his mother. At a moment like this, anyone would miss their mom.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/26.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_25_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 2.chapter 26

chapter 26

{"name": "Chapter 26", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-26", "summary": "At last Beauty hears Ginger approaching in the dogcart, and he neighs to let them know he's there. The men in the dogcart find Reuben Smith, still on the ground and unfortunately dead. They look at Beauty's injured knees and immediately understand that Beauty must have fallen. When Robert, one of the men, tries to lead Beauty away, Beauty almost falls again, causing Robert to notice Beauty's injured foot. Robert shrewdly concludes that Smith had been drinking again, saying, \"I'm afraid it has been the old thing over again\" . They get the body into the dogcart with difficulty, but Beauty notices that Ginger understands what's happening, and stands still even with no one to hold her. Robert binds Beauty's foot with a cloth and walks him home, a horribly painful trek. Once back at Earlshall, the farrier examines Beauty's injuries, saying that his knees will recover, but he'll always be badly scarred. Beauty describes the miserable treatments he endures for his knees, including \" a blistering fluid over the front of both knees to bring all the hair off\" . We're cringing just thinking about it. Smith's death is investigated, and people at the inn testify that Smith was drunk that night; when Beauty's shoe is found on the road nearby, the cause of the accident becomes very clear, and Beauty is cleared of blame. Smith's wife Susan is inconsolable and has to leave their family home with their six children and move to a workhouse.", "analysis": ""}

26 How it Ended It must have been nearly midnight when I heard at a great distance the sound of a horse's feet. Sometimes the sound died away, then it grew clearer again and nearer. The road to Earlshall led through woods that belonged to the earl; the sound came in that direction, and I hoped it might be some one coming in search of us. As the sound came nearer and nearer I was almost sure I could distinguish Ginger's step; a little nearer still, and I could tell she was in the dog-cart. I neighed loudly, and was overjoyed to hear an answering neigh from Ginger, and men's voices. They came slowly over the stones, and stopped at the dark figure that lay upon the ground. One of the men jumped out, and stooped down over it. "It is Reuben," he said, "and he does not stir!" The other man followed, and bent over him. "He's dead," he said; "feel how cold his hands are." They raised him up, but there was no life, and his hair was soaked with blood. They laid him down again, and came and looked at me. They soon saw my cut knees. "Why, the horse has been down and thrown him! Who would have thought the black horse would have done that? Nobody thought he could fall. Reuben must have been lying here for hours! Odd, too, that the horse has not moved from the place." Robert then attempted to lead me forward. I made a step, but almost fell again. "Halloo! he's bad in his foot as well as his knees. Look here--his hoof is cut all to pieces; he might well come down, poor fellow! I tell you what, Ned, I'm afraid it hasn't been all right with Reuben. Just think of his riding a horse over these stones without a shoe! Why, if he had been in his right senses he would just as soon have tried to ride him over the moon. I'm afraid it has been the old thing over again. Poor Susan! she looked awfully pale when she came to my house to ask if he had not come home. She made believe she was not a bit anxious, and talked of a lot of things that might have kept him. But for all that she begged me to go and meet him. But what must we do? There's the horse to get home as well as the body, and that will be no easy matter." Then followed a conversation between them, till it was agreed that Robert, as the groom, should lead me, and that Ned must take the body. It was a hard job to get it into the dog-cart, for there was no one to hold Ginger; but she knew as well as I did what was going on, and stood as still as a stone. I noticed that, because, if she had a fault, it was that she was impatient in standing. Ned started off very slowly with his sad load, and Robert came and looked at my foot again; then he took his handkerchief and bound it closely round, and so he led me home. I shall never forget that night walk; it was more than three miles. Robert led me on very slowly, and I limped and hobbled on as well as I could with great pain. I am sure he was sorry for me, for he often patted and encouraged me, talking to me in a pleasant voice. At last I reached my own box, and had some corn; and after Robert had wrapped up my knees in wet cloths, he tied up my foot in a bran poultice, to draw out the heat and cleanse it before the horse-doctor saw it in the morning, and I managed to get myself down on the straw, and slept in spite of the pain. The next day after the farrier had examined my wounds, he said he hoped the joint was not injured; and if so, I should not be spoiled for work, but I should never lose the blemish. I believe they did the best to make a good cure, but it was a long and painful one. Proud flesh, as they called it, came up in my knees, and was burned out with caustic; and when at last it was healed, they put a blistering fluid over the front of both knees to bring all the hair off; they had some reason for this, and I suppose it was all right. As Smith's death had been so sudden, and no one was there to see it, there was an inquest held. The landlord and hostler at the White Lion, with several other people, gave evidence that he was intoxicated when he started from the inn. The keeper of the toll-gate said he rode at a hard gallop through the gate; and my shoe was picked up among the stones, so that the case was quite plain to them, and I was cleared of all blame. Everybody pitied Susan. She was nearly out of her mind; she kept saying over and over again, "Oh! he was so good--so good! It was all that cursed drink; why will they sell that cursed drink? Oh Reuben, Reuben!" So she went on till after he was buried; and then, as she had no home or relations, she, with her six little children, was obliged once more to leave the pleasant home by the tall oak-trees, and go into that great gloomy Union House.

Chapter 26

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-26

At last Beauty hears Ginger approaching in the dogcart, and he neighs to let them know he's there. The men in the dogcart find Reuben Smith, still on the ground and unfortunately dead. They look at Beauty's injured knees and immediately understand that Beauty must have fallen. When Robert, one of the men, tries to lead Beauty away, Beauty almost falls again, causing Robert to notice Beauty's injured foot. Robert shrewdly concludes that Smith had been drinking again, saying, "I'm afraid it has been the old thing over again" . They get the body into the dogcart with difficulty, but Beauty notices that Ginger understands what's happening, and stands still even with no one to hold her. Robert binds Beauty's foot with a cloth and walks him home, a horribly painful trek. Once back at Earlshall, the farrier examines Beauty's injuries, saying that his knees will recover, but he'll always be badly scarred. Beauty describes the miserable treatments he endures for his knees, including " a blistering fluid over the front of both knees to bring all the hair off" . We're cringing just thinking about it. Smith's death is investigated, and people at the inn testify that Smith was drunk that night; when Beauty's shoe is found on the road nearby, the cause of the accident becomes very clear, and Beauty is cleared of blame. Smith's wife Susan is inconsolable and has to leave their family home with their six children and move to a workhouse.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/27.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_26_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 2.chapter 27

chapter 27

{"name": "Chapter 27", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-27", "summary": "Recovering from his injuries, Beauty is kept alone in a meadow for a few months. He likes the freedom, but he's lonely, especially missing Ginger. Finally one morning Ginger arrives in the meadow, but although their reunion is happy, it seems Ginger's health has suffered, too--as Beauty says, she's been \"ruined by hard riding\" . Lord George insisted on riding Ginger in a hunt, ignoring warnings that Ginger wasn't fit to race. Although she finishes near the front, her back and lungs are strained from the race. \"Here we are, ruined in the prime of our youth and strength, you by a drunkard and I by a fool\" , Ginger remarks. They enjoy their time in the meadow together until one day the Earl and York come to see them. The Earl says that he's upset the horses are ruined, not just because of the money wasted, but because they belonged to his good friend. He says that Ginger's probably got a year left, but Beauty must be sold because of his knees. The Earl and York discuss finding a good home for Beauty, and Ginger laments, \"They'll soon take you away, and I shall lose the only friend I have, and most likely we shall never see each other again. 'Tis a hard world!\" . You said it, sister. A week later, Robert comes to take Beauty away, and he and Ginger neigh a sad goodbye to each other, unable to do much more. So painful. Beauty is sent by train to a livery stable, which is very uncomfortable because the stalls are on a slope. His new master seems to make an effort to care well for the horses, though, which is hopeful.", "analysis": ""}

27 Ruined and Going Downhill As soon as my knees were sufficiently healed I was turned into a small meadow for a month or two; no other creature was there; and though I enjoyed the liberty and the sweet grass, yet I had been so long used to society that I felt very lonely. Ginger and I had become fast friends, and now I missed her company extremely. I often neighed when I heard horses' feet passing in the road, but I seldom got an answer; till one morning the gate was opened, and who should come in but dear old Ginger. The man slipped off her halter, and left her there. With a joyful whinny I trotted up to her; we were both glad to meet, but I soon found that it was not for our pleasure that she was brought to be with me. Her story would be too long to tell, but the end of it was that she had been ruined by hard riding, and was now turned off to see what rest would do. Lord George was young and would take no warning; he was a hard rider, and would hunt whenever he could get the chance, quite careless of his horse. Soon after I left the stable there was a steeplechase, and he determined to ride. Though the groom told him she was a little strained, and was not fit for the race, he did not believe it, and on the day of the race urged Ginger to keep up with the foremost riders. With her high spirit, she strained herself to the utmost; she came in with the first three horses, but her wind was touched, besides which he was too heavy for her, and her back was strained. "And so," she said, "here we are, ruined in the prime of our youth and strength, you by a drunkard, and I by a fool; it is very hard." We both felt in ourselves that we were not what we had been. However, that did not spoil the pleasure we had in each other's company; we did not gallop about as we once did, but we used to feed, and lie down together, and stand for hours under one of the shady lime-trees with our heads close to each other; and so we passed our time till the family returned from town. One day we saw the earl come into the meadow, and York was with him. Seeing who it was, we stood still under our lime-tree, and let them come up to us. They examined us carefully. The earl seemed much annoyed. "There is three hundred pounds flung away for no earthly use," said he; "but what I care most for is that these horses of my old friend, who thought they would find a good home with me, are ruined. The mare shall have a twelve-month's run, and we shall see what that will do for her; but the black one, he must be sold; 'tis a great pity, but I could not have knees like these in my stables." "No, my lord, of course not," said York; "but he might get a place where appearance is not of much consequence, and still be well treated. I know a man in Bath, the master of some livery stables, who often wants a good horse at a low figure; I know he looks well after his horses. The inquest cleared the horse's character, and your lordship's recommendation, or mine, would be sufficient warrant for him." "You had better write to him, York. I should be more particular about the place than the money he would fetch." After this they left us. "They'll soon take you away," said Ginger, "and I shall lose the only friend I have, and most likely we shall never see each other again. 'Tis a hard world!" About a week after this Robert came into the field with a halter, which he slipped over my head, and led me away. There was no leave-taking of Ginger; we neighed to each other as I was led off, and she trotted anxiously along by the hedge, calling to me as long as she could hear the sound of my feet. Through the recommendation of York, I was bought by the master of the livery stables. I had to go by train, which was new to me, and required a good deal of courage the first time; but as I found the puffing, rushing, whistling, and, more than all, the trembling of the horse-box in which I stood did me no real harm, I soon took it quietly. When I reached the end of my journey I found myself in a tolerably comfortable stable, and well attended to. These stables were not so airy and pleasant as those I had been used to. The stalls were laid on a slope instead of being level, and as my head was kept tied to the manger, I was obliged always to stand on the slope, which was very fatiguing. Men do not seem to know yet that horses can do more work if they can stand comfortably and can turn about; however, I was well fed and well cleaned, and, on the whole, I think our master took as much care of us as he could. He kept a good many horses and carriages of different kinds for hire. Sometimes his own men drove them; at others, the horse and chaise were let to gentlemen or ladies who drove themselves.

Chapter 27

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-27

Recovering from his injuries, Beauty is kept alone in a meadow for a few months. He likes the freedom, but he's lonely, especially missing Ginger. Finally one morning Ginger arrives in the meadow, but although their reunion is happy, it seems Ginger's health has suffered, too--as Beauty says, she's been "ruined by hard riding" . Lord George insisted on riding Ginger in a hunt, ignoring warnings that Ginger wasn't fit to race. Although she finishes near the front, her back and lungs are strained from the race. "Here we are, ruined in the prime of our youth and strength, you by a drunkard and I by a fool" , Ginger remarks. They enjoy their time in the meadow together until one day the Earl and York come to see them. The Earl says that he's upset the horses are ruined, not just because of the money wasted, but because they belonged to his good friend. He says that Ginger's probably got a year left, but Beauty must be sold because of his knees. The Earl and York discuss finding a good home for Beauty, and Ginger laments, "They'll soon take you away, and I shall lose the only friend I have, and most likely we shall never see each other again. 'Tis a hard world!" . You said it, sister. A week later, Robert comes to take Beauty away, and he and Ginger neigh a sad goodbye to each other, unable to do much more. So painful. Beauty is sent by train to a livery stable, which is very uncomfortable because the stalls are on a slope. His new master seems to make an effort to care well for the horses, though, which is hopeful.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/30.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_29_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 2.chapter 30

chapter 30

{"name": "Chapter 30", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-30", "summary": "Beauty's new master lives in Bath and has bought a horse on the advice of his doctor. He doesn't know anything about horses, so he hires a man named Filcher as a groom. This new master orders lots of good food, but is totally out to lunch when it comes to his new groom. Although at first everything's fine--the groom \"kept the stable clean and airy groomed me thoroughly and was never otherwise than gentle\" --after a while Beauty thinks his food is coming up short. However, being a horse, Beauty can't say a word about this, and instead \"I wondered why my master did not see that something was the matter\" . One day when Beauty is out with his new master, a helpful passing gentlemen stops them to remark on how unhealthy Beauty looks. He tells Beauty's master to look into the situation and check out things in the stable. Beauty relates his frustration at watching the groom and a little boy steal the oats from his supply--he knows what's been going on. At last a policeman comes and apprehends both groom and boy; the boy's set free, but the groom serves two months in prison.", "analysis": ""}

30 A Thief My new master was an unmarried man. He lived at Bath, and was much engaged in business. His doctor advised him to take horse exercise, and for this purpose he bought me. He hired a stable a short distance from his lodgings, and engaged a man named Filcher as groom. My master knew very little about horses, but he treated me well, and I should have had a good and easy place but for circumstances of which he was ignorant. He ordered the best hay with plenty of oats, crushed beans, and bran, with vetches, or rye grass, as the man might think needful. I heard the master give the order, so I knew there was plenty of good food, and I thought I was well off. For a few days all went on well. I found that my groom understood his business. He kept the stable clean and airy, and he groomed me thoroughly; and was never otherwise than gentle. He had been an hostler in one of the great hotels in Bath. He had given that up, and now cultivated fruit and vegetables for the market, and his wife bred and fattened poultry and rabbits for sale. After awhile it seemed to me that my oats came very short; I had the beans, but bran was mixed with them instead of oats, of which there were very few; certainly not more than a quarter of what there should have been. In two or three weeks this began to tell upon my strength and spirits. The grass food, though very good, was not the thing to keep up my condition without corn. However, I could not complain, nor make known my wants. So it went on for about two months; and I wondered that my master did not see that something was the matter. However, one afternoon he rode out into the country to see a friend of his, a gentleman farmer, who lived on the road to Wells. This gentleman had a very quick eye for horses; and after he had welcomed his friend he said, casting his eye over me: "It seems to me, Barry, that your horse does not look so well as he did when you first had him; has he been well?" "Yes, I believe so," said my master; "but he is not nearly so lively as he was; my groom tells me that horses are always dull and weak in the autumn, and that I must expect it." "Autumn, fiddlesticks!" said the farmer. "Why, this is only August; and with your light work and good food he ought not to go down like this, even if it was autumn. How do you feed him?" My master told him. The other shook his head slowly, and began to feel me over. "I can't say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, but I am much mistaken if your horse gets it. Have you ridden very fast?" "No, very gently." "Then just put your hand here," said he, passing his hand over my neck and shoulder; "he is as warm and damp as a horse just come up from grass. I advise you to look into your stable a little more. I hate to be suspicious, and, thank heaven, I have no cause to be, for I can trust my men, present or absent; but there are mean scoundrels, wicked enough to rob a dumb beast of his food. You must look into it." And turning to his man, who had come to take me, "Give this horse a right good feed of bruised oats, and don't stint him." "Dumb beasts!" Yes, we are; but if I could have spoken I could have told my master where his oats went to. My groom used to come every morning about six o'clock, and with him a little boy, who always had a covered basket with him. He used to go with his father into the harness-room, where the corn was kept, and I could see them, when the door stood ajar, fill a little bag with oats out of the bin, and then he used to be off. Five or six mornings after this, just as the boy had left the stable, the door was pushed open, and a policeman walked in, holding the child tight by the arm; another policeman followed, and locked the door on the inside, saying, "Show me the place where your father keeps his rabbits' food." The boy looked very frightened and began to cry; but there was no escape, and he led the way to the corn-bin. Here the policeman found another empty bag like that which was found full of oats in the boy's basket. Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but they soon saw him, and though he blustered a good deal they walked him off to the "lock-up", and his boy with him. I heard afterward that the boy was not held to be guilty, but the man was sentenced to prison for two months.

Chapter 30

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-30

Beauty's new master lives in Bath and has bought a horse on the advice of his doctor. He doesn't know anything about horses, so he hires a man named Filcher as a groom. This new master orders lots of good food, but is totally out to lunch when it comes to his new groom. Although at first everything's fine--the groom "kept the stable clean and airy groomed me thoroughly and was never otherwise than gentle" --after a while Beauty thinks his food is coming up short. However, being a horse, Beauty can't say a word about this, and instead "I wondered why my master did not see that something was the matter" . One day when Beauty is out with his new master, a helpful passing gentlemen stops them to remark on how unhealthy Beauty looks. He tells Beauty's master to look into the situation and check out things in the stable. Beauty relates his frustration at watching the groom and a little boy steal the oats from his supply--he knows what's been going on. At last a policeman comes and apprehends both groom and boy; the boy's set free, but the groom serves two months in prison.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/31.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_30_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 2.chapter 31

chapter 31

{"name": "Chapter 31", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-31", "summary": "Beauty's new groom arrives, a man named Alfred Smirk. And apparently Beauty's master is really bad at hiring grooms, because Beauty says, \" if ever there was a humbug in the shape of a groom, Alfred Smirk was the man\" . He treats Beauty well, especially in front of Beauty's master, but he does a terrible job at grooming. Alfred Smirk himself is very vain and loves looking in the mirror , but although he gives Beauty's master a very good impression, Beauty thinks he's \" the laziest, most conceited fellow I ever came near\" . Worst of all, Smirk doesn't clean Beauty's stall. It smells awful and starts to affect Beauty's health. The master comes in to ask about it, and Smirk actually says it's dangerous to clean and might give the horse a chill. Smirk suggests maybe there's something wrong with the drain. Someone comes to fix the drain, but of course that's not the problem; Beauty's feet start to become \"unhealthy and tender\" from standing on wet ground. His master starts commenting on Beauty's ill health, and Beauty explains that besides his feet, he's not exercised enough and fed the wrong kind of food. Beauty's feet get bad enough that he starts to stumble, and his master stops at a farrier to find out what's wrong. The farrier diagnoses Beauty with \"thrush\"--which is like bad athlete's foot for horses--and says it's a problem found in foul, unclean stables. At last Beauty's feet are healed and his stable is cleaned out, but Beauty's master is fed up with grooms, and decides that owning a horse is too much trouble. So Beauty is sold yet again.", "analysis": ""}

31 A Humbug My master was not immediately suited, but in a few days my new groom came. He was a tall, good-looking fellow enough; but if ever there was a humbug in the shape of a groom Alfred Smirk was the man. He was very civil to me, and never used me ill; in fact, he did a great deal of stroking and patting when his master was there to see it. He always brushed my mane and tail with water and my hoofs with oil before he brought me to the door, to make me look smart; but as to cleaning my feet or looking to my shoes, or grooming me thoroughly, he thought no more of that than if I had been a cow. He left my bit rusty, my saddle damp, and my crupper stiff. Alfred Smirk considered himself very handsome; he spent a great deal of time about his hair, whiskers and necktie, before a little looking-glass in the harness-room. When his master was speaking to him it was always, "Yes, sir; yes, sir"--touching his hat at every word; and every one thought he was a very nice young man and that Mr. Barry was very fortunate to meet with him. I should say he was the laziest, most conceited fellow I ever came near. Of course, it was a great thing not to be ill-used, but then a horse wants more than that. I had a loose box, and might have been very comfortable if he had not been too indolent to clean it out. He never took all the straw away, and the smell from what lay underneath was very bad; while the strong vapors that rose made my eyes smart and inflame, and I did not feel the same appetite for my food. One day his master came in and said, "Alfred, the stable smells rather strong; should not you give that stall a good scrub and throw down plenty of water?" "Well, sir," he said, touching his cap, "I'll do so if you please, sir; but it is rather dangerous, sir, throwing down water in a horse's box; they are very apt to take cold, sir. I should not like to do him an injury, but I'll do it if you please, sir." "Well," said his master, "I should not like him to take cold; but I don't like the smell of this stable. Do you think the drains are all right?" "Well, sir, now you mention it, I think the drain does sometimes send back a smell; there may be something wrong, sir." "Then send for the bricklayer and have it seen to," said his master. "Yes, sir, I will." The bricklayer came and pulled up a great many bricks, but found nothing amiss; so he put down some lime and charged the master five shillings, and the smell in my box was as bad as ever. But that was not all: standing as I did on a quantity of moist straw my feet grew unhealthy and tender, and the master used to say: "I don't know what is the matter with this horse; he goes very fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid he will stumble." "Yes, sir," said Alfred, "I have noticed the same myself, when I have exercised him." Now the fact was that he hardly ever did exercise me, and when the master was busy I often stood for days together without stretching my legs at all, and yet being fed just as high as if I were at hard work. This often disordered my health, and made me sometimes heavy and dull, but more often restless and feverish. He never even gave me a meal of green food or a bran mash, which would have cooled me, for he was altogether as ignorant as he was conceited; and then, instead of exercise or change of food, I had to take horse balls and draughts; which, beside the nuisance of having them poured down my throat, used to make me feel ill and uncomfortable. One day my feet were so tender that, trotting over some fresh stones with my master on my back, I made two such serious stumbles that, as he came down Lansdown into the city, he stopped at the farrier's, and asked him to see what was the matter with me. The man took up my feet one by one and examined them; then standing up and dusting his hands one against the other, he said: "Your horse has got the 'thrush', and badly, too; his feet are very tender; it is fortunate that he has not been down. I wonder your groom has not seen to it before. This is the sort of thing we find in foul stables, where the litter is never properly cleaned out. If you will send him here to-morrow I will attend to the hoof, and I will direct your man how to apply the liniment which I will give him." The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed and stuffed with tow soaked in some strong lotion; and an unpleasant business it was. The farrier ordered all the litter to be taken out of my box day by day, and the floor kept very clean. Then I was to have bran mashes, a little green food, and not so much corn, till my feet were well again. With this treatment I soon regained my spirits; but Mr. Barry was so much disgusted at being twice deceived by his grooms that he determined to give up keeping a horse, and to hire when he wanted one. I was therefore kept till my feet were quite sound, and was then sold again.

Chapter 31

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-31

Beauty's new groom arrives, a man named Alfred Smirk. And apparently Beauty's master is really bad at hiring grooms, because Beauty says, " if ever there was a humbug in the shape of a groom, Alfred Smirk was the man" . He treats Beauty well, especially in front of Beauty's master, but he does a terrible job at grooming. Alfred Smirk himself is very vain and loves looking in the mirror , but although he gives Beauty's master a very good impression, Beauty thinks he's " the laziest, most conceited fellow I ever came near" . Worst of all, Smirk doesn't clean Beauty's stall. It smells awful and starts to affect Beauty's health. The master comes in to ask about it, and Smirk actually says it's dangerous to clean and might give the horse a chill. Smirk suggests maybe there's something wrong with the drain. Someone comes to fix the drain, but of course that's not the problem; Beauty's feet start to become "unhealthy and tender" from standing on wet ground. His master starts commenting on Beauty's ill health, and Beauty explains that besides his feet, he's not exercised enough and fed the wrong kind of food. Beauty's feet get bad enough that he starts to stumble, and his master stops at a farrier to find out what's wrong. The farrier diagnoses Beauty with "thrush"--which is like bad athlete's foot for horses--and says it's a problem found in foul, unclean stables. At last Beauty's feet are healed and his stable is cleaned out, but Beauty's master is fed up with grooms, and decides that owning a horse is too much trouble. So Beauty is sold yet again.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/32.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_31_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 32

part 3, chapter 32

{"name": "Part 3, Chapter 32", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/part-3-chapter-32", "summary": "Beauty's put up for sale at a horse fair, and he makes a sly comment about how much fun a horse fair must be for those who \"have nothing to lose\" . Which reminds us that Beauty--and all of the other horses at the fair--have a lot to lose. Beauty describes the fair and the mix of horses there, some of them still young and healthy, but some \"very dejected-looking as if there was no more pleasure in life, and no more hope\" . He also says that if he can be honest, there's a lot of shady business that goes down at horse fairs. Beauty's examined by a lot of prospective buyers, and he judges them just as much as they're judging him, though of course he has no power to choose. He soon finds a man he's hoping will buy him, a small man who seems used to horses. There's something nice about this man, and Beauty thinks it might even be the way he smells, \" a fresh smell as if he had come out of a hayloft\" . The man tries to bargain for Beauty and is turned down, and several buyers turn up to negotiate. Beauty tries to make his preference known, reaching his head toward the kind-eyed man until the man raises his price, and Beauty is his. The man takes him to an inn and feeds him, and after that they leave for London, where at last they reach a narrow street in a poor part of town with stables on one side. When he arrives, the man whistles, and his cheerful, kind family rushes out to greet him--his wife Polly and two small children, Harry and Dolly. They come to pat and admire Beauty, who's led to a \"comfortable, clean-smelling stall, with plenty of dry straw\" . This looks promising, doesn't it?", "analysis": ""}

Part III. 32 A Horse Fair No doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place to those who have nothing to lose; at any rate, there is plenty to see. Long strings of young horses out of the country, fresh from the marshes; and droves of shaggy little Welsh ponies, no higher than Merrylegs; and hundreds of cart horses of all sorts, some of them with their long tails braided up and tied with scarlet cord; and a good many like myself, handsome and high-bred, but fallen into the middle class, through some accident or blemish, unsoundness of wind, or some other complaint. There were some splendid animals quite in their prime, and fit for anything; they were throwing out their legs and showing off their paces in high style, as they were trotted out with a leading rein, the groom running by the side. But round in the background there were a number of poor things, sadly broken down with hard work, with their knees knuckling over and their hind legs swinging out at every step, and there were some very dejected-looking old horses, with the under lip hanging down and the ears lying back heavily, as if there were no more pleasure in life, and no more hope; there were some so thin you might see all their ribs, and some with old sores on their backs and hips. These were sad sights for a horse to look upon, who knows not but he may come to the same state. There was a great deal of bargaining, of running up and beating down; and if a horse may speak his mind so far as he understands, I should say there were more lies told and more trickery at that horse fair than a clever man could give an account of. I was put with two or three other strong, useful-looking horses, and a good many people came to look at us. The gentlemen always turned from me when they saw my broken knees; though the man who had me swore it was only a slip in the stall. The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then to look at my eyes, then feel all the way down my legs, and give me a hard feel of the skin and flesh, and then try my paces. It was wonderful what a difference there was in the way these things were done. Some did it in a rough, offhand way, as if one was only a piece of wood; while others would take their hands gently over one's body, with a pat now and then, as much as to say, "By your leave." Of course I judged a good deal of the buyers by their manners to myself. There was one man, I thought, if he would buy me, I should be happy. He was not a gentleman, nor yet one of the loud, flashy sort that call themselves so. He was rather a small man, but well made, and quick in all his motions. I knew in a moment by the way he handled me, that he was used to horses; he spoke gently, and his gray eye had a kindly, cheery look in it. It may seem strange to say--but it is true all the same--that the clean, fresh smell there was about him made me take to him; no smell of old beer and tobacco, which I hated, but a fresh smell as if he had come out of a hayloft. He offered twenty-three pounds for me, but that was refused, and he walked away. I looked after him, but he was gone, and a very hard-looking, loud-voiced man came. I was dreadfully afraid he would have me; but he walked off. One or two more came who did not mean business. Then the hard-faced man came back again and offered twenty-three pounds. A very close bargain was being driven, for my salesman began to think he should not get all he asked, and must come down; but just then the gray-eyed man came back again. I could not help reaching out my head toward him. He stroked my face kindly. "Well, old chap," he said, "I think we should suit each other. I'll give twenty-four for him." "Say twenty-five and you shall have him." "Twenty-four ten," said my friend, in a very decided tone, "and not another sixpence--yes or no?" "Done," said the salesman; "and you may depend upon it there's a monstrous deal of quality in that horse, and if you want him for cab work he's a bargain." The money was paid on the spot, and my new master took my halter, and led me out of the fair to an inn, where he had a saddle and bridle ready. He gave me a good feed of oats and stood by while I ate it, talking to himself and talking to me. Half an hour after we were on our way to London, through pleasant lanes and country roads, until we came into the great London thoroughfare, on which we traveled steadily, till in the twilight we reached the great city. The gas lamps were already lighted; there were streets to the right, and streets to the left, and streets crossing each other, for mile upon mile. I thought we should never come to the end of them. At last, in passing through one, we came to a long cab stand, when my rider called out in a cheery voice, "Good-night, governor!" "Halloo!" cried a voice. "Have you got a good one?" "I think so," replied my owner. "I wish you luck with him." "Thank you, governor," and he rode on. We soon turned up one of the side streets, and about halfway up that we turned into a very narrow street, with rather poor-looking houses on one side, and what seemed to be coach-houses and stables on the other. My owner pulled up at one of the houses and whistled. The door flew open, and a young woman, followed by a little girl and boy, ran out. There was a very lively greeting as my rider dismounted. "Now, then, Harry, my boy, open the gates, and mother will bring us the lantern." The next minute they were all standing round me in a small stable-yard. "Is he gentle, father?" "Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten; come and pat him." At once the little hand was patting about all over my shoulder without fear. How good it felt! "Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him down," said the mother. "Do, Polly, it's just what he wants; and I know you've got a beautiful mash ready for me." "Sausage dumpling and apple turnover!" shouted the boy, which set them all laughing. I was led into a comfortable, clean-smelling stall, with plenty of dry straw, and after a capital supper I lay down, thinking I was going to be happy.

Part 3, Chapter 32

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/part-3-chapter-32

Beauty's put up for sale at a horse fair, and he makes a sly comment about how much fun a horse fair must be for those who "have nothing to lose" . Which reminds us that Beauty--and all of the other horses at the fair--have a lot to lose. Beauty describes the fair and the mix of horses there, some of them still young and healthy, but some "very dejected-looking as if there was no more pleasure in life, and no more hope" . He also says that if he can be honest, there's a lot of shady business that goes down at horse fairs. Beauty's examined by a lot of prospective buyers, and he judges them just as much as they're judging him, though of course he has no power to choose. He soon finds a man he's hoping will buy him, a small man who seems used to horses. There's something nice about this man, and Beauty thinks it might even be the way he smells, " a fresh smell as if he had come out of a hayloft" . The man tries to bargain for Beauty and is turned down, and several buyers turn up to negotiate. Beauty tries to make his preference known, reaching his head toward the kind-eyed man until the man raises his price, and Beauty is his. The man takes him to an inn and feeds him, and after that they leave for London, where at last they reach a narrow street in a poor part of town with stables on one side. When he arrives, the man whistles, and his cheerful, kind family rushes out to greet him--his wife Polly and two small children, Harry and Dolly. They come to pat and admire Beauty, who's led to a "comfortable, clean-smelling stall, with plenty of dry straw" . This looks promising, doesn't it?

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/33.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_32_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 33

chapter 33

{"name": "Chapter 33", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-33", "summary": "Beauty's new master, Jeremiah \"Jerry\" Barker, is a London cab driver, and Beauty immediately likes him and his family: \"I have never known such a happy, merry family before or since\" , Beauty says. Jerry owns his own cab and another horse named Captain, a tall, white, elderly horse, \"high-bred, fine-mannered,\" and \"noble\" . Captain is a veteran of the Crimean War, and Beauty promises more details on that later. Jerry's family actually comes out to make friends with Beauty on his first morning there--so sweet--bringing him treats, which he loves. . Jerry decides to call Beauty \"Jack\" after an old horse. When Jerry puts Beauty in the cab for the first time, he takes great care to make sure Beauty is comfortable: \"There was no bearing rein, no curb, nothing but a plain ring snaffle. What a blessing that was!\" . Beauty meets Jerry's colleagues, including someone called Grey Grant or Governor Grant. Initially, pulling a cab through the crowded streets of London is stressful and hard to get used to, but Beauty praises Jerry's driving ability and credits him with making the adjustment fairly painless. Plus he almost never whips Beauty and trusts Beauty to work hard. Jerry cares for Beauty very well in the stable, too, with plenty of good food and fresh water. The horses only rest on Sunday, which is much-needed, and Beauty has time to learn more about Captain's life.", "analysis": ""}

33 A London Cab Horse Jeremiah Barker was my new master's name, but as every one called him Jerry, I shall do the same. Polly, his wife, was just as good a match as a man could have. She was a plump, trim, tidy little woman, with smooth, dark hair, dark eyes, and a merry little mouth. The boy was twelve years old, a tall, frank, good-tempered lad; and little Dorothy (Dolly they called her) was her mother over again, at eight years old. They were all wonderfully fond of each other; I never knew such a happy, merry family before or since. Jerry had a cab of his own, and two horses, which he drove and attended to himself. His other horse was a tall, white, rather large-boned animal called "Captain". He was old now, but when he was young he must have been splendid; he had still a proud way of holding his head and arching his neck; in fact, he was a high-bred, fine-mannered, noble old horse, every inch of him. He told me that in his early youth he went to the Crimean War; he belonged to an officer in the cavalry, and used to lead the regiment. I will tell more of that hereafter. The next morning, when I was well-groomed, Polly and Dolly came into the yard to see me and make friends. Harry had been helping his father since the early morning, and had stated his opinion that I should turn out a "regular brick". Polly brought me a slice of apple, and Dolly a piece of bread, and made as much of me as if I had been the "Black Beauty" of olden time. It was a great treat to be petted again and talked to in a gentle voice, and I let them see as well as I could that I wished to be friendly. Polly thought I was very handsome, and a great deal too good for a cab, if it was not for the broken knees. "Of course there's no one to tell us whose fault that was," said Jerry, "and as long as I don't know I shall give him the benefit of the doubt; for a firmer, neater stepper I never rode. We'll call him 'Jack', after the old one--shall we, Polly?" "Do," she said, "for I like to keep a good name going." Captain went out in the cab all the morning. Harry came in after school to feed me and give me water. In the afternoon I was put into the cab. Jerry took as much pains to see if the collar and bridle fitted comfortably as if he had been John Manly over again. When the crupper was let out a hole or two it all fitted well. There was no check-rein, no curb, nothing but a plain ring snaffle. What a blessing that was! After driving through the side street we came to the large cab stand where Jerry had said "Good-night". On one side of this wide street were high houses with wonderful shop fronts, and on the other was an old church and churchyard, surrounded by iron palisades. Alongside these iron rails a number of cabs were drawn up, waiting for passengers; bits of hay were lying about on the ground; some of the men were standing together talking; some were sitting on their boxes reading the newspaper; and one or two were feeding their horses with bits of hay, and giving them a drink of water. We pulled up in the rank at the back of the last cab. Two or three men came round and began to look at me and pass their remarks. "Very good for a funeral," said one. "Too smart-looking," said another, shaking his head in a very wise way; "you'll find out something wrong one of these fine mornings, or my name isn't Jones." "Well," said Jerry pleasantly, "I suppose I need not find it out till it finds me out, eh? And if so, I'll keep up my spirits a little longer." Then there came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a great gray coat with great gray cape and great white buttons, a gray hat, and a blue comforter loosely tied round his neck; his hair was gray, too; but he was a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men made way for him. He looked me all over, as if he had been going to buy me; and then straightening himself up with a grunt, he said, "He's the right sort for you, Jerry; I don't care what you gave for him, he'll be worth it." Thus my character was established on the stand. This man's name was Grant, but he was called "Gray Grant", or "Governor Grant". He had been the longest on that stand of any of the men, and he took it upon himself to settle matters and stop disputes. He was generally a good-humored, sensible man; but if his temper was a little out, as it was sometimes when he had drunk too much, nobody liked to come too near his fist, for he could deal a very heavy blow. The first week of my life as a cab horse was very trying. I had never been used to London, and the noise, the hurry, the crowds of horses, carts, and carriages that I had to make my way through made me feel anxious and harassed; but I soon found that I could perfectly trust my driver, and then I made myself easy and got used to it. Jerry was as good a driver as I had ever known, and what was better, he took as much thought for his horses as he did for himself. He soon found out that I was willing to work and do my best, and he never laid the whip on me unless it was gently drawing the end of it over my back when I was to go on; but generally I knew this quite well by the way in which he took up the reins, and I believe his whip was more frequently stuck up by his side than in his hand. In a short time I and my master understood each other as well as horse and man can do. In the stable, too, he did all that he could for our comfort. The stalls were the old-fashioned style, too much on the slope; but he had two movable bars fixed across the back of our stalls, so that at night, and when we were resting, he just took off our halters and put up the bars, and thus we could turn about and stand whichever way we pleased, which is a great comfort. Jerry kept us very clean, and gave us as much change of food as he could, and always plenty of it; and not only that, but he always gave us plenty of clean fresh water, which he allowed to stand by us both night and day, except of course when we came in warm. Some people say that a horse ought not to drink all he likes; but I know if we are allowed to drink when we want it we drink only a little at a time, and it does us a great deal more good than swallowing down half a bucketful at a time, because we have been left without till we are thirsty and miserable. Some grooms will go home to their beer and leave us for hours with our dry hay and oats and nothing to moisten them; then of course we gulp down too much at once, which helps to spoil our breathing and sometimes chills our stomachs. But the best thing we had here was our Sundays for rest; we worked so hard in the week that I do not think we could have kept up to it but for that day; besides, we had then time to enjoy each other's company. It was on these days that I learned my companion's history.

Chapter 33

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-33

Beauty's new master, Jeremiah "Jerry" Barker, is a London cab driver, and Beauty immediately likes him and his family: "I have never known such a happy, merry family before or since" , Beauty says. Jerry owns his own cab and another horse named Captain, a tall, white, elderly horse, "high-bred, fine-mannered," and "noble" . Captain is a veteran of the Crimean War, and Beauty promises more details on that later. Jerry's family actually comes out to make friends with Beauty on his first morning there--so sweet--bringing him treats, which he loves. . Jerry decides to call Beauty "Jack" after an old horse. When Jerry puts Beauty in the cab for the first time, he takes great care to make sure Beauty is comfortable: "There was no bearing rein, no curb, nothing but a plain ring snaffle. What a blessing that was!" . Beauty meets Jerry's colleagues, including someone called Grey Grant or Governor Grant. Initially, pulling a cab through the crowded streets of London is stressful and hard to get used to, but Beauty praises Jerry's driving ability and credits him with making the adjustment fairly painless. Plus he almost never whips Beauty and trusts Beauty to work hard. Jerry cares for Beauty very well in the stable, too, with plenty of good food and fresh water. The horses only rest on Sunday, which is much-needed, and Beauty has time to learn more about Captain's life.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/34.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_33_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 34

chapter 34

{"name": "Chapter 34", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-34", "summary": "Now it's time for a little side trip, this time for Captain's story. Captain, Beauty's new cab-pulling companion, was trained as a war horse, and his first owner was a cavalry officer in the Crimean War. Captain liked the training and loved his master, who treated him very well. Captain \" thought the life of an army horse was very pleasant, but when it came to being sent abroad, over the sea in a great ship, he almost changed his mind\" . Captain thought the journey in the ship was \"dreadful\" , and found life different and stressful once they arrived, but has good things to say about the way the cavalrymen treated their horses. Beauty wonders if the fighting was awful, and Captain tells him that they liked being called out, and they were not afraid as long as their riders were in control. He says even though he saw many horses die, he was not afraid for himself: \"My master's cheery voice made me feel as if he and I could not be killed\" . Go team. One day, however, all of that changes. Captain and his officer are called to the front lines, and Captain's master is particularly affectionate before they charge into battle. After a brave charge, Captain's master is struck by a cannonball and falls. Captain wants to stay with him, saying, \"I wanted to keep my place by his side, and not leave him under that rush of horses' feet, but it was in vain. And now, without a master or a friend, I was alone on that great slaughter ground\" . Another soldier whose horse has been killed mounts Captain and rides him back, but they have suffered a defeat. Beauty asks about the wounded horses, and Captain says that they were shot so they did not suffer, and only one in four horses returned alive that day. Captain never sees his master again, to his great sorrow; he says, \"I never loved any other master so well\" . Aw. Beauty asks if Captain understood what the war was about, and Captain, of course, never knew: \" but the enemy must have been awfully wicked people, if it was right to go all that way over the sea on purpose to kill them\" .", "analysis": ""}

34 An Old War Horse Captain had been broken in and trained for an army horse; his first owner was an officer of cavalry going out to the Crimean war. He said he quite enjoyed the training with all the other horses, trotting together, turning together, to the right hand or the left, halting at the word of command, or dashing forward at full speed at the sound of the trumpet or signal of the officer. He was, when young, a dark, dappled iron-gray, and considered very handsome. His master, a young, high-spirited gentleman, was very fond of him, and treated him from the first with the greatest care and kindness. He told me he thought the life of an army horse was very pleasant; but when it came to being sent abroad over the sea in a great ship, he almost changed his mind. "That part of it," said he, "was dreadful! Of course we could not walk off the land into the ship; so they were obliged to put strong straps under our bodies, and then we were lifted off our legs in spite of our struggles, and were swung through the air over the water, to the deck of the great vessel. There we were placed in small close stalls, and never for a long time saw the sky, or were able to stretch our legs. The ship sometimes rolled about in high winds, and we were knocked about, and felt bad enough. "However, at last it came to an end, and we were hauled up, and swung over again to the land; we were very glad, and snorted and neighed for joy, when we once more felt firm ground under our feet. "We soon found that the country we had come to was very different from our own and that we had many hardships to endure besides the fighting; but many of the men were so fond of their horses that they did everything they could to make them comfortable in spite of snow, wet, and all things out of order." "But what about the fighting?" said I, "was not that worse than anything else?" "Well," said he, "I hardly know; we always liked to hear the trumpet sound, and to be called out, and were impatient to start off, though sometimes we had to stand for hours, waiting for the word of command; and when the word was given we used to spring forward as gayly and eagerly as if there were no cannon balls, bayonets, or bullets. I believe so long as we felt our rider firm in the saddle, and his hand steady on the bridle, not one of us gave way to fear, not even when the terrible bomb-shells whirled through the air and burst into a thousand pieces. "I, with my noble master, went into many actions together without a wound; and though I saw horses shot down with bullets, pierced through with lances, and gashed with fearful saber-cuts; though we left them dead on the field, or dying in the agony of their wounds, I don't think I feared for myself. My master's cheery voice, as he encouraged his men, made me feel as if he and I could not be killed. I had such perfect trust in him that while he was guiding me I was ready to charge up to the very cannon's mouth. I saw many brave men cut down, many fall mortally wounded from their saddles. I had heard the cries and groans of the dying, I had cantered over ground slippery with blood, and frequently had to turn aside to avoid trampling on wounded man or horse, but, until one dreadful day, I had never felt terror; that day I shall never forget." Here old Captain paused for awhile and drew a long breath; I waited, and he went on. "It was one autumn morning, and as usual, an hour before daybreak our cavalry had turned out, ready caparisoned for the day's work, whether it might be fighting or waiting. The men stood by their horses waiting, ready for orders. As the light increased there seemed to be some excitement among the officers; and before the day was well begun we heard the firing of the enemy's guns. "Then one of the officers rode up and gave the word for the men to mount, and in a second every man was in his saddle, and every horse stood expecting the touch of the rein, or the pressure of his rider's heels, all animated, all eager; but still we had been trained so well that, except by the champing of our bits, and the restive tossing of our heads from time to time, it could not be said that we stirred. "My dear master and I were at the head of the line, and as all sat motionless and watchful, he took a little stray lock of my mane which had turned over on the wrong side, laid it over on the right, and smoothed it down with his hand; then patting my neck, he said, 'We shall have a day of it to-day, Bayard, my beauty; but we'll do our duty as we have done.' He stroked my neck that morning more, I think, than he had ever done before; quietly on and on, as if he were thinking of something else. I loved to feel his hand on my neck, and arched my crest proudly and happily; but I stood very still, for I knew all his moods, and when he liked me to be quiet, and when gay. "I cannot tell all that happened on that day, but I will tell of the last charge that we made together; it was across a valley right in front of the enemy's cannon. By this time we were well used to the roar of heavy guns, the rattle of musket fire, and the flying of shot near us; but never had I been under such a fire as we rode through on that day. From the right, from the left, and from the front, shot and shell poured in upon us. Many a brave man went down, many a horse fell, flinging his rider to the earth; many a horse without a rider ran wildly out of the ranks; then terrified at being alone, with no hand to guide him, came pressing in among his old companions, to gallop with them to the charge. "Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one turned back. Every moment the ranks were thinned, but as our comrades fell, we closed in to keep them together; and instead of being shaken or staggered in our pace our gallop became faster and faster as we neared the cannon. "My master, my dear master was cheering on his comrades with his right arm raised on high, when one of the balls whizzing close to my head struck him. I felt him stagger with the shock, though he uttered no cry; I tried to check my speed, but the sword dropped from his right hand, the rein fell loose from the left, and sinking backward from the saddle he fell to the earth; the other riders swept past us, and by the force of their charge I was driven from the spot. "I wanted to keep my place by his side and not leave him under that rush of horses' feet, but it was in vain; and now without a master or a friend I was alone on that great slaughter ground; then fear took hold on me, and I trembled as I had never trembled before; and I too, as I had seen other horses do, tried to join in the ranks and gallop with them; but I was beaten off by the swords of the soldiers. Just then a soldier whose horse had been killed under him caught at my bridle and mounted me, and with this new master I was again going forward; but our gallant company was cruelly overpowered, and those who remained alive after the fierce fight for the guns came galloping back over the same ground. Some of the horses had been so badly wounded that they could scarcely move from the loss of blood; other noble creatures were trying on three legs to drag themselves along, and others were struggling to rise on their fore feet, when their hind legs had been shattered by shot. After the battle the wounded men were brought in and the dead were buried." "And what about the wounded horses?" I said; "were they left to die?" "No, the army farriers went over the field with their pistols and shot all that were ruined; some that had only slight wounds were brought back and attended to, but the greater part of the noble, willing creatures that went out that morning never came back! In our stables there was only about one in four that returned. "I never saw my dear master again. I believe he fell dead from the saddle. I never loved any other master so well. I went into many other engagements, but was only once wounded, and then not seriously; and when the war was over I came back again to England, as sound and strong as when I went out." I said, "I have heard people talk about war as if it was a very fine thing." "Ah!" said he, "I should think they never saw it. No doubt it is very fine when there is no enemy, when it is just exercise and parade and sham fight. Yes, it is very fine then; but when thousands of good brave men and horses are killed or crippled for life, it has a very different look." "Do you know what they fought about?" said I. "No," he said, "that is more than a horse can understand, but the enemy must have been awfully wicked people, if it was right to go all that way over the sea on purpose to kill them."

Chapter 34

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-34

Now it's time for a little side trip, this time for Captain's story. Captain, Beauty's new cab-pulling companion, was trained as a war horse, and his first owner was a cavalry officer in the Crimean War. Captain liked the training and loved his master, who treated him very well. Captain " thought the life of an army horse was very pleasant, but when it came to being sent abroad, over the sea in a great ship, he almost changed his mind" . Captain thought the journey in the ship was "dreadful" , and found life different and stressful once they arrived, but has good things to say about the way the cavalrymen treated their horses. Beauty wonders if the fighting was awful, and Captain tells him that they liked being called out, and they were not afraid as long as their riders were in control. He says even though he saw many horses die, he was not afraid for himself: "My master's cheery voice made me feel as if he and I could not be killed" . Go team. One day, however, all of that changes. Captain and his officer are called to the front lines, and Captain's master is particularly affectionate before they charge into battle. After a brave charge, Captain's master is struck by a cannonball and falls. Captain wants to stay with him, saying, "I wanted to keep my place by his side, and not leave him under that rush of horses' feet, but it was in vain. And now, without a master or a friend, I was alone on that great slaughter ground" . Another soldier whose horse has been killed mounts Captain and rides him back, but they have suffered a defeat. Beauty asks about the wounded horses, and Captain says that they were shot so they did not suffer, and only one in four horses returned alive that day. Captain never sees his master again, to his great sorrow; he says, "I never loved any other master so well" . Aw. Beauty asks if Captain understood what the war was about, and Captain, of course, never knew: " but the enemy must have been awfully wicked people, if it was right to go all that way over the sea on purpose to kill them" .

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/35.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_34_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 35

chapter 35

{"name": "Chapter 35", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-35", "summary": "Beauty's beyond thrilled with his master. Jerry Barker sings songs, treats people well, and is generally a decent and kind human being. Plus his kids are not only sweet but useful in the stable, too. One day, Jerry and Beauty encounter two drunk young men who want to pay extra to rush to the train station. Jerry refuses, saying it's never worth it to do that to a horse, and his colleague Larry takes the fare instead. \"Although Jerry was determinedly set against hard driving to please careless people, he always went at a good fair pace, and was not against putting on the steam, as he said, if only he knew why\" , Beauty explains. So basically, no rushing without good reason. Beauty gives an example of a time Jerry is willing to rush: When a kind man slips and falls, making himself late for a train, Jerry promises to try to get the man there on time, and Beauty understands. Beauty then describes the total craziness of trying to rush through London traffic. Jerry and Beauty make it to Victoria Station in time for the train, where they're rewarded with a generous tip--which Jerry doesn't take, because he's just happy to see the man make his train. Yep, Jerry's actually that nice. Jerry's fellow cabbies give him a hard time for being such a nice guy, and Jerry answers that wealth isn't necessary if you're following the word of the Ten Commandments. So he's not only nice, but pious.", "analysis": ""}

35 Jerry Barker I never knew a better man than my new master. He was kind and good, and as strong for the right as John Manly; and so good-tempered and merry that very few people could pick a quarrel with him. He was very fond of making little songs, and singing them to himself. One he was very fond of was this: "Come, father and mother, And sister and brother, Come, all of you, turn to And help one another." And so they did; Harry was as clever at stable-work as a much older boy, and always wanted to do what he could. Then Polly and Dolly used to come in the morning to help with the cab--to brush and beat the cushions, and rub the glass, while Jerry was giving us a cleaning in the yard, and Harry was rubbing the harness. There used to be a great deal of laughing and fun between them, and it put Captain and me in much better spirits than if we had heard scolding and hard words. They were always early in the morning, for Jerry would say: "If you in the morning Throw minutes away, You can't pick them up In the course of a day. You may hurry and scurry, And flurry and worry, You've lost them forever, Forever and aye." He could not bear any careless loitering and waste of time; and nothing was so near making him angry as to find people, who were always late, wanting a cab horse to be driven hard, to make up for their idleness. One day two wild-looking young men came out of a tavern close by the stand, and called Jerry. "Here, cabby! look sharp, we are rather late; put on the steam, will you, and take us to the Victoria in time for the one o'clock train? You shall have a shilling extra." "I will take you at the regular pace, gentlemen; shillings don't pay for putting on the steam like that." Larry's cab was standing next to ours; he flung open the door, and said, "I'm your man, gentlemen! take my cab, my horse will get you there all right;" and as he shut them in, with a wink toward Jerry, said, "It's against his conscience to go beyond a jog-trot." Then slashing his jaded horse, he set off as hard as he could. Jerry patted me on the neck: "No, Jack, a shilling would not pay for that sort of thing, would it, old boy?" Although Jerry was determinedly set against hard driving, to please careless people, he always went a good fair pace, and was not against putting on the steam, as he said, if only he knew why. I well remember one morning, as we were on the stand waiting for a fare, that a young man, carrying a heavy portmanteau, trod on a piece of orange peel which lay on the pavement, and fell down with great force. Jerry was the first to run and lift him up. He seemed much stunned, and as they led him into a shop he walked as if he were in great pain. Jerry of course came back to the stand, but in about ten minutes one of the shopmen called him, so we drew up to the pavement. "Can you take me to the South-Eastern Railway?" said the young man; "this unlucky fall has made me late, I fear; but it is of great importance that I should not lose the twelve o'clock train. I should be most thankful if you could get me there in time, and will gladly pay you an extra fare." "I'll do my very best," said Jerry heartily, "if you think you are well enough, sir," for he looked dreadfully white and ill. "I must go," he said earnestly, "please to open the door, and let us lose no time." The next minute Jerry was on the box; with a cheery chirrup to me, and a twitch of the rein that I well understood. "Now then, Jack, my boy," said he, "spin along, we'll show them how we can get over the ground, if we only know why." It is always difficult to drive fast in the city in the middle of the day, when the streets are full of traffic, but we did what could be done; and when a good driver and a good horse, who understand each other, are of one mind, it is wonderful what they can do. I had a very good mouth--that is I could be guided by the slightest touch of the rein; and that is a great thing in London, among carriages, omnibuses, carts, vans, trucks, cabs, and great wagons creeping along at a walking pace; some going one way, some another, some going slowly, others wanting to pass them; omnibuses stopping short every few minutes to take up a passenger, obliging the horse that is coming behind to pull up too, or to pass, and get before them; perhaps you try to pass, but just then something else comes dashing in through the narrow opening, and you have to keep in behind the omnibus again; presently you think you see a chance, and manage to get to the front, going so near the wheels on each side that half an inch nearer and they would scrape. Well, you get along for a bit, but soon find yourself in a long train of carts and carriages all obliged to go at a walk; perhaps you come to a regular block-up, and have to stand still for minutes together, till something clears out into a side street, or the policeman interferes; you have to be ready for any chance--to dash forward if there be an opening, and be quick as a rat-dog to see if there be room and if there be time, lest you get your own wheels locked or smashed, or the shaft of some other vehicle run into your chest or shoulder. All this is what you have to be ready for. If you want to get through London fast in the middle of the day it wants a deal of practice. Jerry and I were used to it, and no one could beat us at getting through when we were set upon it. I was quick and bold and could always trust my driver; Jerry was quick and patient at the same time, and could trust his horse, which was a great thing too. He very seldom used the whip; I knew by his voice, and his click, click, when he wanted to get on fast, and by the rein where I was to go; so there was no need for whipping; but I must go back to my story. The streets were very full that day, but we got on pretty well as far as the bottom of Cheapside, where there was a block for three or four minutes. The young man put his head out and said anxiously, "I think I had better get out and walk; I shall never get there if this goes on." "I'll do all that can be done, sir," said Jerry; "I think we shall be in time. This block-up cannot last much longer, and your luggage is very heavy for you to carry, sir." Just then the cart in front of us began to move on, and then we had a good turn. In and out, in and out we went, as fast as horseflesh could do it, and for a wonder had a good clear time on London Bridge, for there was a whole train of cabs and carriages all going our way at a quick trot, perhaps wanting to catch that very train. At any rate, we whirled into the station with many more, just as the great clock pointed to eight minutes to twelve o'clock. "Thank God! we are in time," said the young man, "and thank you, too, my friend, and your good horse. You have saved me more than money can ever pay for. Take this extra half-crown." "No, sir, no, thank you all the same; so glad we hit the time, sir; but don't stay now, sir, the bell is ringing. Here, porter! take this gentleman's luggage--Dover line twelve o'clock train--that's it," and without waiting for another word Jerry wheeled me round to make room for other cabs that were dashing up at the last minute, and drew up on one side till the crush was past. "'So glad!' he said, 'so glad!' Poor young fellow! I wonder what it was that made him so anxious!" Jerry often talked to himself quite loud enough for me to hear when we were not moving. On Jerry's return to the rank there was a good deal of laughing and chaffing at him for driving hard to the train for an extra fare, as they said, all against his principles, and they wanted to know how much he had pocketed. "A good deal more than I generally get," said he, nodding slyly; "what he gave me will keep me in little comforts for several days." "Gammon!" said one. "He's a humbug," said another; "preaching to us and then doing the same himself." "Look here, mates," said Jerry; "the gentleman offered me half a crown extra, but I didn't take it; 'twas quite pay enough for me to see how glad he was to catch that train; and if Jack and I choose to have a quick run now and then to please ourselves, that's our business and not yours." "Well," said Larry, "you'll never be a rich man." "Most likely not," said Jerry; "but I don't know that I shall be the less happy for that. I have heard the commandments read a great many times and I never noticed that any of them said, 'Thou shalt be rich'; and there are a good many curious things said in the New Testament about rich men that I think would make me feel rather queer if I was one of them." "If you ever do get rich," said Governor Gray, looking over his shoulder across the top of his cab, "you'll deserve it, Jerry, and you won't find a curse come with your wealth. As for you, Larry, you'll die poor; you spend too much in whipcord." "Well," said Larry, "what is a fellow to do if his horse won't go without it?" "You never take the trouble to see if he will go without it; your whip is always going as if you had the St. Vitus' dance in your arm, and if it does not wear you out it wears your horse out; you know you are always changing your horses; and why? Because you never give them any peace or encouragement." "Well, I have not had good luck," said Larry, "that's where it is." "And you never will," said the governor. "Good Luck is rather particular who she rides with, and mostly prefers those who have got common sense and a good heart; at least that is my experience." Governor Gray turned round again to his newspaper, and the other men went to their cabs.

Chapter 35

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-35

Beauty's beyond thrilled with his master. Jerry Barker sings songs, treats people well, and is generally a decent and kind human being. Plus his kids are not only sweet but useful in the stable, too. One day, Jerry and Beauty encounter two drunk young men who want to pay extra to rush to the train station. Jerry refuses, saying it's never worth it to do that to a horse, and his colleague Larry takes the fare instead. "Although Jerry was determinedly set against hard driving to please careless people, he always went at a good fair pace, and was not against putting on the steam, as he said, if only he knew why" , Beauty explains. So basically, no rushing without good reason. Beauty gives an example of a time Jerry is willing to rush: When a kind man slips and falls, making himself late for a train, Jerry promises to try to get the man there on time, and Beauty understands. Beauty then describes the total craziness of trying to rush through London traffic. Jerry and Beauty make it to Victoria Station in time for the train, where they're rewarded with a generous tip--which Jerry doesn't take, because he's just happy to see the man make his train. Yep, Jerry's actually that nice. Jerry's fellow cabbies give him a hard time for being such a nice guy, and Jerry answers that wealth isn't necessary if you're following the word of the Ten Commandments. So he's not only nice, but pious.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/36.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_35_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 36

chapter 36

{"name": "Chapter 36", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-36", "summary": "One morning, a man approaches Jerry at the stable and asks if he could hire Jerry regularly to drive to church on Sundays since his wife can't walk that far. Jerry tells him he doesn't have the right sort of driving license, and the man--Mr. Briggs, we're assuming--tells Jerry that it wouldn't be a problem, and \"Mrs. Briggs very much prefers you to drive her\" . Jerry insists that a seven-day license is too exhausting, but Mr. Briggs continues to press Jerry, so Jerry busts out a lengthy, Bible-quoting explanation of why he won't drive on Sundays. At last, Briggs gives up. Jerry calls for his wife and tells her what's just happened, and asks her if he should have sacrificed his Sunday rule for this particular customer. Polly says she'd rather have him home on Sundays, even if Briggs agreed to give Jerry a sovereign once a week. She starts to get upset, and Jerry assures her he's told Briggs he'd never do it. This results in Jerry losing Mr. Briggs, who was his best customer, so his work gets a little bit harder. Which leads to a lively debate among the cab drivers about the merits of religion and working on Sundays. Jerry says religion is all about the way you behave, saying, \"Real religion is the best and truest thing in the world and the only thing that can make a man really happy, or make the world any better\" .", "analysis": ""}

36 The Sunday Cab One morning, as Jerry had just put me into the shafts and was fastening the traces, a gentleman walked into the yard. "Your servant, sir," said Jerry. "Good-morning, Mr. Barker," said the gentleman. "I should be glad to make some arrangements with you for taking Mrs. Briggs regularly to church on Sunday mornings. We go to the New Church now, and that is rather further than she can walk." "Thank you, sir," said Jerry, "but I have only taken out a six-days' license,* and therefore I could not take a fare on a Sunday; it would not be legal." * A few years since the annual charge for a cab license was very much reduced, and the difference between the six and seven days' cabs was abolished. "Oh!" said the other, "I did not know yours was a six-days' cab; but of course it would be very easy to alter your license. I would see that you did not lose by it; the fact is, Mrs. Briggs very much prefers you to drive her." "I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but I had a seven-days' license once, and the work was too hard for me, and too hard for my horses. Year in and year out, not a day's rest, and never a Sunday with my wife and children; and never able to go to a place of worship, which I had always been used to do before I took to the driving box. So for the last five years I have only taken a six-days' license, and I find it better all the way round." "Well, of course," replied Mr. Briggs, "it is very proper that every person should have rest, and be able to go to church on Sundays, but I should have thought you would not have minded such a short distance for the horse, and only once a day; you would have all the afternoon and evening for yourself, and we are very good customers, you know." "Yes, sir, that is true, and I am grateful for all favors, I am sure; and anything that I could do to oblige you, or the lady, I should be proud and happy to do; but I can't give up my Sundays, sir, indeed I can't. I read that God made man, and he made horses and all the other beasts, and as soon as He had made them He made a day of rest, and bade that all should rest one day in seven; and I think, sir, He must have known what was good for them, and I am sure it is good for me; I am stronger and healthier altogether, now that I have a day of rest; the horses are fresh too, and do not wear up nearly so fast. The six-day drivers all tell me the same, and I have laid by more money in the savings bank than ever I did before; and as for the wife and children, sir, why, heart alive! they would not go back to the seven days for all they could see." "Oh, very well," said the gentleman. "Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Barker, any further. I will inquire somewhere else," and he walked away. "Well," says Jerry to me, "we can't help it, Jack, old boy; we must have our Sundays." "Polly!" he shouted, "Polly! come here." She was there in a minute. "What is it all about, Jerry?" "Why, my dear, Mr. Briggs wants me to take Mrs. Briggs to church every Sunday morning. I say I have only a six-days' license. He says, 'Get a seven-days' license, and I'll make it worth your while;' and you know, Polly, they are very good customers to us. Mrs. Briggs often goes out shopping for hours, or making calls, and then she pays down fair and honorable like a lady; there's no beating down or making three hours into two hours and a half, as some folks do; and it is easy work for the horses; not like tearing along to catch trains for people that are always a quarter of an hour too late; and if I don't oblige her in this matter it is very likely we shall lose them altogether. What do you say, little woman?" "I say, Jerry," says she, speaking very slowly, "I say, if Mrs. Briggs would give you a sovereign every Sunday morning, I would not have you a seven-days' cabman again. We have known what it was to have no Sundays, and now we know what it is to call them our own. Thank God, you earn enough to keep us, though it is sometimes close work to pay for all the oats and hay, the license, and the rent besides; but Harry will soon be earning something, and I would rather struggle on harder than we do than go back to those horrid times when you hardly had a minute to look at your own children, and we never could go to a place of worship together, or have a happy, quiet day. God forbid that we should ever turn back to those times; that's what I say, Jerry." "And that is just what I told Mr. Briggs, my dear," said Jerry, "and what I mean to stick to. So don't go and fret yourself, Polly" (for she had begun to cry); "I would not go back to the old times if I earned twice as much, so that is settled, little woman. Now, cheer up, and I'll be off to the stand." Three weeks had passed away after this conversation, and no order had come from Mrs. Briggs; so there was nothing but taking jobs from the stand. Jerry took it to heart a good deal, for of course the work was harder for horse and man. But Polly would always cheer him up, and say, "Never mind, father, never, mind. "'Do your best, And leave the rest, 'Twill all come right Some day or night.'" It soon became known that Jerry had lost his best customer, and for what reason. Most of the men said he was a fool, but two or three took his part. "If workingmen don't stick to their Sunday," said Truman, "they'll soon have none left; it is every man's right and every beast's right. By God's law we have a day of rest, and by the law of England we have a day of rest; and I say we ought to hold to the rights these laws give us and keep them for our children." "All very well for you religious chaps to talk so," said Larry; "but I'll turn a shilling when I can. I don't believe in religion, for I don't see that your religious people are any better than the rest." "If they are not better," put in Jerry, "it is because they are not religious. You might as well say that our country's laws are not good because some people break them. If a man gives way to his temper, and speaks evil of his neighbor, and does not pay his debts, he is not religious, I don't care how much he goes to church. If some men are shams and humbugs, that does not make religion untrue. Real religion is the best and truest thing in the world, and the only thing that can make a man really happy or make the world we live in any better." "If religion was good for anything," said Jones, "it would prevent your religious people from making us work on Sundays, as you know many of them do, and that's why I say religion is nothing but a sham; why, if it was not for the church and chapel-goers it would be hardly worth while our coming out on a Sunday. But they have their privileges, as they call them, and I go without. I shall expect them to answer for my soul, if I can't get a chance of saving it." Several of the men applauded this, till Jerry said: "That may sound well enough, but it won't do; every man must look after his own soul; you can't lay it down at another man's door like a foundling and expect him to take care of it; and don't you see, if you are always sitting on your box waiting for a fare, they will say, 'If we don't take him some one else will, and he does not look for any Sunday.' Of course, they don't go to the bottom of it, or they would see if they never came for a cab it would be no use your standing there; but people don't always like to go to the bottom of things; it may not be convenient to do it; but if you Sunday drivers would all strike for a day of rest the thing would be done." "And what would all the good people do if they could not get to their favorite preachers?" said Larry. "'Tis not for me to lay down plans for other people," said Jerry, "but if they can't walk so far they can go to what is nearer; and if it should rain they can put on their mackintoshes as they do on a week-day. If a thing is right it can be done, and if it is wrong it can be done without; and a good man will find a way. And that is as true for us cabmen as it is for the church-goers."

Chapter 36

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-36

One morning, a man approaches Jerry at the stable and asks if he could hire Jerry regularly to drive to church on Sundays since his wife can't walk that far. Jerry tells him he doesn't have the right sort of driving license, and the man--Mr. Briggs, we're assuming--tells Jerry that it wouldn't be a problem, and "Mrs. Briggs very much prefers you to drive her" . Jerry insists that a seven-day license is too exhausting, but Mr. Briggs continues to press Jerry, so Jerry busts out a lengthy, Bible-quoting explanation of why he won't drive on Sundays. At last, Briggs gives up. Jerry calls for his wife and tells her what's just happened, and asks her if he should have sacrificed his Sunday rule for this particular customer. Polly says she'd rather have him home on Sundays, even if Briggs agreed to give Jerry a sovereign once a week. She starts to get upset, and Jerry assures her he's told Briggs he'd never do it. This results in Jerry losing Mr. Briggs, who was his best customer, so his work gets a little bit harder. Which leads to a lively debate among the cab drivers about the merits of religion and working on Sundays. Jerry says religion is all about the way you behave, saying, "Real religion is the best and truest thing in the world and the only thing that can make a man really happy, or make the world any better" .

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/37.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_36_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 37

chapter 37

{"name": "Chapter 37", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-37", "summary": "In a perfect example of good karma, Mrs. Briggs sends a message to Jerry in a few weeks asking for a cab ride. The servant says they've been trying other cabs, but \"there's something wrong with them all\" . After that, Mr. Briggs is back on the good customer list, although he never again asks for a Sunday ride. However, Jerry does go out once on a Sunday, which Beauty explains. One Sunday Polly comes to Jerry with the news that her friend Dinah Brown's mother is seriously ill, and Dinah \" must go directly if she wishes to see her alive\" . Problem is, Dinah's mother lives ten miles out of town, a long walk from any train station, plus Dinah has a four-week-old baby. Polly asks Jerry to go, quoting the Golden Rule at him--\"you know we should do to other people as we should like they should do to us\" --so Jerry agrees, saying that Polly is \"as good as the Minister\" . They ride out of town to deliver Dinah on a beautiful May day. When they arrive, Jerry asks if Beauty can spend some time in the meadow. Beauty is ecstatic. They spend a blissful afternoon at the field, and it's been ages since Beauty's been in one--since Earlshall, in fact. At the end of the day, Jerry brings his daughter some flowers and comments on how happy Beauty was in the field.", "analysis": ""}

37 The Golden Rule Two or three weeks after this, as we came into the yard rather late in the evening, Polly came running across the road with the lantern (she always brought it to him if it was not very wet). "It has all come right, Jerry; Mrs. Briggs sent her servant this afternoon to ask you to take her out to-morrow at eleven o'clock. I said, 'Yes, I thought so, but we supposed she employed some one else now.'" "'Well,' said he, 'the real fact is, master was put out because Mr. Barker refused to come on Sundays, and he has been trying other cabs, but there's something wrong with them all; some drive too fast, and some too slow, and the mistress says there is not one of them so nice and clean as yours, and nothing will suit her but Mr. Barker's cab again.'" Polly was almost out of breath, and Jerry broke out into a merry laugh. "''Twill all come right some day or night': you were right, my dear; you generally are. Run in and get the supper, and I'll have Jack's harness off and make him snug and happy in no time." After this Mrs. Briggs wanted Jerry's cab quite as often as before, never, however, on a Sunday; but there came a day when we had Sunday work, and this was how it happened. We had all come home on the Saturday night very tired, and very glad to think that the next day would be all rest, but so it was not to be. On Sunday morning Jerry was cleaning me in the yard, when Polly stepped up to him, looking very full of something. "What is it?" said Jerry. "Well, my dear," she said, "poor Dinah Brown has just had a letter brought to say that her mother is dangerously ill, and that she must go directly if she wishes to see her alive. The place is more than ten miles away from here, out in the country, and she says if she takes the train she should still have four miles to walk; and so weak as she is, and the baby only four weeks old, of course that would be impossible; and she wants to know if you would take her in your cab, and she promises to pay you faithfully, as she can get the money." "Tut, tut! we'll see about that. It was not the money I was thinking about, but of losing our Sunday; the horses are tired, and I am tired, too--that's where it pinches." "It pinches all round, for that matter," said Polly, "for it's only half Sunday without you, but you know we should do to other people as we should like they should do to us; and I know very well what I should like if my mother was dying; and Jerry, dear, I am sure it won't break the Sabbath; for if pulling a poor beast or donkey out of a pit would not spoil it, I am quite sure taking poor Dinah would not do it." "Why, Polly, you are as good as the minister, and so, as I've had my Sunday-morning sermon early to-day, you may go and tell Dinah that I'll be ready for her as the clock strikes ten; but stop--just step round to butcher Braydon's with my compliments, and ask him if he would lend me his light trap; I know he never uses it on the Sunday, and it would make a wonderful difference to the horse." Away she went, and soon returned, saying that he could have the trap and welcome. "All right," said he; "now put me up a bit of bread and cheese, and I'll be back in the afternoon as soon as I can." "And I'll have the meat pie ready for an early tea instead of for dinner," said Polly; and away she went, while he made his preparations to the tune of "Polly's the woman and no mistake", of which tune he was very fond. I was selected for the journey, and at ten o'clock we started, in a light, high-wheeled gig, which ran so easily that after the four-wheeled cab it seemed like nothing. It was a fine May day, and as soon as we were out of the town, the sweet air, the smell of the fresh grass, and the soft country roads were as pleasant as they used to be in the old times, and I soon began to feel quite fresh. Dinah's family lived in a small farmhouse, up a green lane, close by a meadow with some fine shady trees; there were two cows feeding in it. A young man asked Jerry to bring his trap into the meadow, and he would tie me up in the cowshed; he wished he had a better stable to offer. "If your cows would not be offended," said Jerry, "there is nothing my horse would like so well as to have an hour or two in your beautiful meadow; he's quiet, and it would be a rare treat for him." "Do, and welcome," said the young man; "the best we have is at your service for your kindness to my sister; we shall be having some dinner in an hour, and I hope you'll come in, though with mother so ill we are all out of sorts in the house." Jerry thanked him kindly, but said as he had some dinner with him there was nothing he should like so well as walking about in the meadow. When my harness was taken off I did not know what I should do first--whether to eat the grass, or roll over on my back, or lie down and rest, or have a gallop across the meadow out of sheer spirits at being free; and I did all by turns. Jerry seemed to be quite as happy as I was; he sat down by a bank under a shady tree, and listened to the birds, then he sang himself, and read out of the little brown book he is so fond of, then wandered round the meadow, and down by a little brook, where he picked the flowers and the hawthorn, and tied them up with long sprays of ivy; then he gave me a good feed of the oats which he had brought with him; but the time seemed all too short--I had not been in a field since I left poor Ginger at Earlshall. We came home gently, and Jerry's first words were, as we came into the yard, "Well, Polly, I have not lost my Sunday after all, for the birds were singing hymns in every bush, and I joined in the service; and as for Jack, he was like a young colt." When he handed Dolly the flowers she jumped about for joy.

Chapter 37

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-37

In a perfect example of good karma, Mrs. Briggs sends a message to Jerry in a few weeks asking for a cab ride. The servant says they've been trying other cabs, but "there's something wrong with them all" . After that, Mr. Briggs is back on the good customer list, although he never again asks for a Sunday ride. However, Jerry does go out once on a Sunday, which Beauty explains. One Sunday Polly comes to Jerry with the news that her friend Dinah Brown's mother is seriously ill, and Dinah " must go directly if she wishes to see her alive" . Problem is, Dinah's mother lives ten miles out of town, a long walk from any train station, plus Dinah has a four-week-old baby. Polly asks Jerry to go, quoting the Golden Rule at him--"you know we should do to other people as we should like they should do to us" --so Jerry agrees, saying that Polly is "as good as the Minister" . They ride out of town to deliver Dinah on a beautiful May day. When they arrive, Jerry asks if Beauty can spend some time in the meadow. Beauty is ecstatic. They spend a blissful afternoon at the field, and it's been ages since Beauty's been in one--since Earlshall, in fact. At the end of the day, Jerry brings his daughter some flowers and comments on how happy Beauty was in the field.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/38.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_37_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 38

chapter 38

{"name": "Chapter 38", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-38", "summary": "Winter in London is brutal and especially hard for cab horses since they have to wait outside for hours for their fares to return from parties and other events. The weather doesn't make things easy: \"When the streets were slippery with frost or snow, that was the worst of all for us horses\" . Some of the cab drivers go to pubs to wait, but Jerry prefers sitting in a coffee shop since he doesn't drink. \"It was his opinion that spirits and beer made a man colder afterwards, and that dry clothes, good food, cheerfulness, and a comfortable wife at home were the best things to keep a cabman warm\" , Beauty says of his master. Polly and Dolly do their best to make sure Jerry has warm food on cold days, and little Dolly often crosses the street to deliver it. One day, a man looking to hire Jerry's cab sees Dolly cross the street, and waits to make sure Jerry gets Dolly across the street safely before they leave. Jerry tells Dolly, \"...that's a gentleman; that's a real gentleman, Dolly. He has got time and thought for the comfort of a poor cabman and a little girl\" . This gentleman becomes a regular customer, and they discover he owns several dogs and is fond of horses. As Beauty remarks, \"It was a very rare thing for any one to notice the horse that had been working for him\" . On one outing, the gentleman comes out of a shop to see a man whip his horses for moving forward at the wrong time. The kind gentleman tells the man to stop and threatens to get him arrested. After the man rudely departs, Beauty's gentleman takes down his license number . When his friend asks him why he bothered, the gentleman says, \"My doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong that we have the power to stop, and do nothing, we make ourselves sharers in the guilt\" . Deep stuff for a cab ride.", "analysis": ""}

38 Dolly and a Real Gentleman Winter came in early, with a great deal of cold and wet. There was snow, or sleet, or rain almost every day for weeks, changing only for keen driving winds or sharp frosts. The horses all felt it very much. When it is a dry cold a couple of good thick rugs will keep the warmth in us; but when it is soaking rain they soon get wet through and are no good. Some of the drivers had a waterproof cover to throw over, which was a fine thing; but some of the men were so poor that they could not protect either themselves or their horses, and many of them suffered very much that winter. When we horses had worked half the day we went to our dry stables, and could rest, while they had to sit on their boxes, sometimes staying out as late as one or two o'clock in the morning if they had a party to wait for. When the streets were slippery with frost or snow that was the worst of all for us horses. One mile of such traveling, with a weight to draw and no firm footing, would take more out of us than four on a good road; every nerve and muscle of our bodies is on the strain to keep our balance; and, added to this, the fear of falling is more exhausting than anything else. If the roads are very bad indeed our shoes are roughed, but that makes us feel nervous at first. When the weather was very bad many of the men would go and sit in the tavern close by, and get some one to watch for them; but they often lost a fare in that way, and could not, as Jerry said, be there without spending money. He never went to the Rising Sun; there was a coffee-shop near, where he now and then went, or he bought of an old man, who came to our rank with tins of hot coffee and pies. It was his opinion that spirits and beer made a man colder afterward, and that dry clothes, good food, cheerfulness, and a comfortable wife at home, were the best things to keep a cabman warm. Polly always supplied him with something to eat when he could not get home, and sometimes he would see little Dolly peeping from the corner of the street, to make sure if "father" was on the stand. If she saw him she would run off at full speed and soon come back with something in a tin or basket, some hot soup or pudding Polly had ready. It was wonderful how such a little thing could get safely across the street, often thronged with horses and carriages; but she was a brave little maid, and felt it quite an honor to bring "father's first course", as he used to call it. She was a general favorite on the stand, and there was not a man who would not have seen her safely across the street, if Jerry had not been able to do it. One cold windy day Dolly had brought Jerry a basin of something hot, and was standing by him while he ate it. He had scarcely begun when a gentleman, walking toward us very fast, held up his umbrella. Jerry touched his hat in return, gave the basin to Dolly, and was taking off my cloth, when the gentleman, hastening up, cried out, "No, no, finish your soup, my friend; I have not much time to spare, but I can wait till you have done, and set your little girl safe on the pavement." So saying, he seated himself in the cab. Jerry thanked him kindly, and came back to Dolly. "There, Dolly, that's a gentleman; that's a real gentleman, Dolly; he has got time and thought for the comfort of a poor cabman and a little girl." Jerry finished his soup, set the child across, and then took his orders to drive to Clapham Rise. Several times after that the same gentleman took our cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and horses, for whenever we took him to his own door two or three dogs would come bounding out to meet him. Sometimes he came round and patted me, saying in his quiet, pleasant way, "This horse has got a good master, and he deserves it." It was a very rare thing for any one to notice the horse that had been working for him. I have known ladies to do it now and then, and this gentleman, and one or two others have given me a pat and a kind word; but ninety-nine persons out of a hundred would as soon think of patting the steam engine that drew the train. The gentleman was not young, and there was a forward stoop in his shoulders as if he was always going at something. His lips were thin and close shut, though they had a very pleasant smile; his eye was keen, and there was something in his jaw and the motion of his head that made one think he was very determined in anything he set about. His voice was pleasant and kind; any horse would trust that voice, though it was just as decided as everything else about him. One day he and another gentleman took our cab; they stopped at a shop in R---- Street, and while his friend went in he stood at the door. A little ahead of us on the other side of the street a cart with two very fine horses was standing before some wine vaults; the carter was not with them, and I cannot tell how long they had been standing, but they seemed to think they had waited long enough, and began to move off. Before they had gone many paces the carter came running out and caught them. He seemed furious at their having moved, and with whip and rein punished them brutally, even beating them about the head. Our gentleman saw it all, and stepping quickly across the street, said in a decided voice: "If you don't stop that directly, I'll have you arrested for leaving your horses, and for brutal conduct." The man, who had clearly been drinking, poured forth some abusive language, but he left off knocking the horses about, and taking the reins, got into his cart; meantime our friend had quietly taken a note-book from his pocket, and looking at the name and address painted on the cart, he wrote something down. "What do you want with that?" growled the carter, as he cracked his whip and was moving on. A nod and a grim smile was the only answer he got. On returning to the cab our friend was joined by his companion, who said laughingly, "I should have thought, Wright, you had enough business of your own to look after, without troubling yourself about other people's horses and servants." Our friend stood still for a moment, and throwing his head a little back, "Do you know why this world is as bad as it is?" "No," said the other. "Then I'll tell you. It is because people think only about their own business, and won't trouble themselves to stand up for the oppressed, nor bring the wrongdoer to light. I never see a wicked thing like this without doing what I can, and many a master has thanked me for letting him know how his horses have been used." "I wish there were more gentlemen like you, sir," said Jerry, "for they are wanted badly enough in this city." After this we continued our journey, and as they got out of the cab our friend was saying, "My doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong that we have the power to stop, and do nothing, we make ourselves sharers in the guilt."

Chapter 38

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-38

Winter in London is brutal and especially hard for cab horses since they have to wait outside for hours for their fares to return from parties and other events. The weather doesn't make things easy: "When the streets were slippery with frost or snow, that was the worst of all for us horses" . Some of the cab drivers go to pubs to wait, but Jerry prefers sitting in a coffee shop since he doesn't drink. "It was his opinion that spirits and beer made a man colder afterwards, and that dry clothes, good food, cheerfulness, and a comfortable wife at home were the best things to keep a cabman warm" , Beauty says of his master. Polly and Dolly do their best to make sure Jerry has warm food on cold days, and little Dolly often crosses the street to deliver it. One day, a man looking to hire Jerry's cab sees Dolly cross the street, and waits to make sure Jerry gets Dolly across the street safely before they leave. Jerry tells Dolly, "...that's a gentleman; that's a real gentleman, Dolly. He has got time and thought for the comfort of a poor cabman and a little girl" . This gentleman becomes a regular customer, and they discover he owns several dogs and is fond of horses. As Beauty remarks, "It was a very rare thing for any one to notice the horse that had been working for him" . On one outing, the gentleman comes out of a shop to see a man whip his horses for moving forward at the wrong time. The kind gentleman tells the man to stop and threatens to get him arrested. After the man rudely departs, Beauty's gentleman takes down his license number . When his friend asks him why he bothered, the gentleman says, "My doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong that we have the power to stop, and do nothing, we make ourselves sharers in the guilt" . Deep stuff for a cab ride.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/39.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_38_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 39

chapter 39

{"name": "Chapter 39", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-39", "summary": "Beauty takes a minute to explain that his life with Jerry is much better than the lives of many other cab horses. Jerry owns Beauty, and thus it's in his best interest to treat Beauty well. But other drivers who don't own their horses don't behave the same way--\" the only thing they thought of was how to get their money out of them\" . But Jerry and Governor Grey are both kind and concerned when it comes to horses. One day a \"shabby, miserable-looking\" driver, by the name of \"Seedy Sam\" , brings in a sad, unhealthy-looking horse. The Governor comments that Sam belongs in the police station, and Sam gives a surprising response: He describes the desperate conditions of cab driving, the high cost of renting a horse and cab, the fixed low fares, and the incredibly long hours. \"I am on the stand fourteen or sixteen hours a day\" , Sam explains--what's more, he has six kids to feed. Sam continues to detail the difficulties of making money as a cab driver, ranting, \" I say 'tis a mockery to tell a man that he must not overwork his horse, for when a beast is downright tired, there's nothing but the whip that will keep his legs a-going you must put your wife and children before the horse\" . The Governor and Jerry are pretty sad after Sam's speech, and admit that Sam's right. \"It is hard lines for man, and hard lines for beast, and who's to mend it I don't know\" , the Governor says. But he asks Sam to spare a kind word for his horse once in a while. A few days later, a new man shows up with Sam's cab, and says that Sam is ill. And the next day, he comes back and says Sam is dead. Sam's last words? \"I never had a Sunday's rest\" . Poor Sam. The Governor says that Sam's death is a warning to the rest of the cabbies. But what are they supposed to do about it? We're not sure.", "analysis": ""}

39 Seedy Sam I should say that for a cab-horse I was very well off indeed; my driver was my owner, and it was his interest to treat me well and not overwork me, even had he not been so good a man as he was; but there were a great many horses which belonged to the large cab-owners, who let them out to their drivers for so much money a day. As the horses did not belong to these men the only thing they thought of was how to get their money out of them, first, to pay the master, and then to provide for their own living; and a dreadful time some of these horses had of it. Of course, I understood but little, but it was often talked over on the stand, and the governor, who was a kind-hearted man and fond of horses, would sometimes speak up if one came in very much jaded or ill-used. One day a shabby, miserable-looking driver, who went by the name of "Seedy Sam", brought in his horse looking dreadfully beat, and the governor said: "You and your horse look more fit for the police station than for this rank." The man flung his tattered rug over the horse, turned full round upon the Governor and said in a voice that sounded almost desperate: "If the police have any business with the matter it ought to be with the masters who charge us so much, or with the fares that are fixed so low. If a man has to pay eighteen shillings a day for the use of a cab and two horses, as many of us have to do in the season, and must make that up before we earn a penny for ourselves I say 'tis more than hard work; nine shillings a day to get out of each horse before you begin to get your own living. You know that's true, and if the horses don't work we must starve, and I and my children have known what that is before now. I've six of 'em, and only one earns anything; I am on the stand fourteen or sixteen hours a day, and I haven't had a Sunday these ten or twelve weeks; you know Skinner never gives a day if he can help it, and if I don't work hard, tell me who does! I want a warm coat and a mackintosh, but with so many to feed how can a man get it? I had to pledge my clock a week ago to pay Skinner, and I shall never see it again." Some of the other drivers stood round nodding their heads and saying he was right. The man went on: "You that have your own horses and cabs, or drive for good masters, have a chance of getting on and a chance of doing right; I haven't. We can't charge more than sixpence a mile after the first, within the four-mile radius. This very morning I had to go a clear six miles and only took three shillings. I could not get a return fare, and had to come all the way back; there's twelve miles for the horse and three shillings for me. After that I had a three-mile fare, and there were bags and boxes enough to have brought in a good many twopences if they had been put outside; but you know how people do; all that could be piled up inside on the front seat were put in and three heavy boxes went on the top. That was sixpence, and the fare one and sixpence; then I got a return for a shilling. Now that makes eighteen miles for the horse and six shillings for me; there's three shillings still for that horse to earn and nine shillings for the afternoon horse before I touch a penny. Of course, it is not always so bad as that, but you know it often is, and I say 'tis a mockery to tell a man that he must not overwork his horse, for when a beast is downright tired there's nothing but the whip that will keep his legs a-going; you can't help yourself--you must put your wife and children before the horse; the masters must look to that, we can't. I don't ill-use my horse for the sake of it; none of you can say I do. There's wrong lays somewhere--never a day's rest, never a quiet hour with the wife and children. I often feel like an old man, though I'm only forty-five. You know how quick some of the gentry are to suspect us of cheating and overcharging; why, they stand with their purses in their hands counting it over to a penny and looking at us as if we were pickpockets. I wish some of 'em had got to sit on my box sixteen hours a day and get a living out of it and eighteen shillings beside, and that in all weathers; they would not be so uncommon particular never to give us a sixpence over or to cram all the luggage inside. Of course, some of 'em tip us pretty handsome now and then, or else we could not live; but you can't depend upon that." The men who stood round much approved this speech, and one of them said, "It is desperate hard, and if a man sometimes does what is wrong it is no wonder, and if he gets a dram too much who's to blow him up?" Jerry had taken no part in this conversation, but I never saw his face look so sad before. The governor had stood with both his hands in his pockets; now he took his handkerchief out of his hat and wiped his forehead. "You've beaten me, Sam," he said, "for it's all true, and I won't cast it up to you any more about the police; it was the look in that horse's eye that came over me. It is hard lines for man and it is hard lines for beast, and who's to mend it I don't know: but anyway you might tell the poor beast that you were sorry to take it out of him in that way. Sometimes a kind word is all we can give 'em, poor brutes, and 'tis wonderful what they do understand." A few mornings after this talk a new man came on the stand with Sam's cab. "Halloo!" said one, "what's up with Seedy Sam?" "He's ill in bed," said the man; "he was taken last night in the yard, and could scarcely crawl home. His wife sent a boy this morning to say his father was in a high fever and could not get out, so I'm here instead." The next morning the same man came again. "How is Sam?" inquired the governor. "He's gone," said the man. "What, gone? You don't mean to say he's dead?" "Just snuffed out," said the other; "he died at four o'clock this morning; all yesterday he was raving--raving about Skinner, and having no Sundays. 'I never had a Sunday's rest,' these were his last words." No one spoke for a while, and then the governor said, "I'll tell you what, mates, this is a warning for us."

Chapter 39

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-39

Beauty takes a minute to explain that his life with Jerry is much better than the lives of many other cab horses. Jerry owns Beauty, and thus it's in his best interest to treat Beauty well. But other drivers who don't own their horses don't behave the same way--" the only thing they thought of was how to get their money out of them" . But Jerry and Governor Grey are both kind and concerned when it comes to horses. One day a "shabby, miserable-looking" driver, by the name of "Seedy Sam" , brings in a sad, unhealthy-looking horse. The Governor comments that Sam belongs in the police station, and Sam gives a surprising response: He describes the desperate conditions of cab driving, the high cost of renting a horse and cab, the fixed low fares, and the incredibly long hours. "I am on the stand fourteen or sixteen hours a day" , Sam explains--what's more, he has six kids to feed. Sam continues to detail the difficulties of making money as a cab driver, ranting, " I say 'tis a mockery to tell a man that he must not overwork his horse, for when a beast is downright tired, there's nothing but the whip that will keep his legs a-going you must put your wife and children before the horse" . The Governor and Jerry are pretty sad after Sam's speech, and admit that Sam's right. "It is hard lines for man, and hard lines for beast, and who's to mend it I don't know" , the Governor says. But he asks Sam to spare a kind word for his horse once in a while. A few days later, a new man shows up with Sam's cab, and says that Sam is ill. And the next day, he comes back and says Sam is dead. Sam's last words? "I never had a Sunday's rest" . Poor Sam. The Governor says that Sam's death is a warning to the rest of the cabbies. But what are they supposed to do about it? We're not sure.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/40.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_39_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 40

chapter 40

{"name": "Chapter 40", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-40", "summary": "Beauty's world is starting to look a little bit grim. One day, another cab pulls up next to Beauty's, and the horse pulling it is \" an old worn-out chestnut, with an ill-kept coat, and bones that showed plainly through it\" . This unrecognizable horse looks at Beauty and says, \"Black Beauty, is that you?\" . Guess who it is? It's Beauty's old friend Ginger. Beauty reflects that she looks terrible, and they're able to talk for a minute. Ginger tells Beauty that she's been sold several times, but she's always moving down the ranks. At last she was bought by a man who rents out horses and cabs, who declared her worthless and has put her to work until she's \"used up\" . Oh, Ginger. Poor Ginger tells Beauty she wishes she were dead. Beauty is very upset, and puts his nose to hers, but can't think of a way to comfort her. Ginger tells him, \"You are the only friend I ever had\" , and then she drives off. Some time later, Beauty sees a cart with a dead horse on it and describes the terrible sight of that horse. And sadly, the horse is familiar--a chestnut horse with a thin neck and a white streak on its forehead. Beauty says, \"I believe it was Ginger; I hoped it was, for then her troubles would be over\" . If our hearts weren't broken before, they are now.", "analysis": ""}

40 Poor Ginger One day, while our cab and many others were waiting outside one of the parks where music was playing, a shabby old cab drove up beside ours. The horse was an old worn-out chestnut, with an ill-kept coat, and bones that showed plainly through it, the knees knuckled over, and the fore-legs were very unsteady. I had been eating some hay, and the wind rolled a little lock of it that way, and the poor creature put out her long thin neck and picked it up, and then turned and looked about for more. There was a hopeless look in the dull eye that I could not help noticing, and then, as I was thinking where I had seen that horse before, she looked full at me and said, "Black Beauty, is that you?" It was Ginger! but how changed! The beautifully arched and glossy neck was now straight, and lank, and fallen in; the clean straight legs and delicate fetlocks were swelled; the joints were grown out of shape with hard work; the face, that was once so full of spirit and life, was now full of suffering, and I could tell by the heaving of her sides, and her frequent cough, how bad her breath was. Our drivers were standing together a little way off, so I sidled up to her a step or two, that we might have a little quiet talk. It was a sad tale that she had to tell. After a twelvemonth's run off at Earlshall, she was considered to be fit for work again, and was sold to a gentleman. For a little while she got on very well, but after a longer gallop than usual the old strain returned, and after being rested and doctored she was again sold. In this way she changed hands several times, but always getting lower down. "And so at last," said she, "I was bought by a man who keeps a number of cabs and horses, and lets them out. You look well off, and I am glad of it, but I could not tell you what my life has been. When they found out my weakness they said I was not worth what they gave for me, and that I must go into one of the low cabs, and just be used up; that is what they are doing, whipping and working with never one thought of what I suffer--they paid for me, and must get it out of me, they say. The man who hires me now pays a deal of money to the owner every day, and so he has to get it out of me too; and so it's all the week round and round, with never a Sunday rest." I said, "You used to stand up for yourself if you were ill-used." "Ah!" she said, "I did once, but it's no use; men are strongest, and if they are cruel and have no feeling, there is nothing that we can do, but just bear it--bear it on and on to the end. I wish the end was come, I wish I was dead. I have seen dead horses, and I am sure they do not suffer pain; I wish I may drop down dead at my work, and not be sent off to the knackers." I was very much troubled, and I put my nose up to hers, but I could say nothing to comfort her. I think she was pleased to see me, for she said, "You are the only friend I ever had." Just then her driver came up, and with a tug at her mouth backed her out of the line and drove off, leaving me very sad indeed. A short time after this a cart with a dead horse in it passed our cab-stand. The head hung out of the cart-tail, the lifeless tongue was slowly dropping with blood; and the sunken eyes! but I can't speak of them, the sight was too dreadful. It was a chestnut horse with a long, thin neck. I saw a white streak down the forehead. I believe it was Ginger; I hoped it was, for then her troubles would be over. Oh! if men were more merciful they would shoot us before we came to such misery.

Chapter 40

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-40

Beauty's world is starting to look a little bit grim. One day, another cab pulls up next to Beauty's, and the horse pulling it is " an old worn-out chestnut, with an ill-kept coat, and bones that showed plainly through it" . This unrecognizable horse looks at Beauty and says, "Black Beauty, is that you?" . Guess who it is? It's Beauty's old friend Ginger. Beauty reflects that she looks terrible, and they're able to talk for a minute. Ginger tells Beauty that she's been sold several times, but she's always moving down the ranks. At last she was bought by a man who rents out horses and cabs, who declared her worthless and has put her to work until she's "used up" . Oh, Ginger. Poor Ginger tells Beauty she wishes she were dead. Beauty is very upset, and puts his nose to hers, but can't think of a way to comfort her. Ginger tells him, "You are the only friend I ever had" , and then she drives off. Some time later, Beauty sees a cart with a dead horse on it and describes the terrible sight of that horse. And sadly, the horse is familiar--a chestnut horse with a thin neck and a white streak on its forehead. Beauty says, "I believe it was Ginger; I hoped it was, for then her troubles would be over" . If our hearts weren't broken before, they are now.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/41.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_40_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 41

chapter 41

{"name": "Chapter 41", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-41", "summary": "Beauty says he's seen a lot of trouble with London horses, \" and much of it that might have been prevented by a little common sense\" . It's hard for him to watch little ponies that are made to pull heavy loads--one day he sees one that reminds him of Merrylegs being whipped and mistreated. He notices that butcher's horses are driven particularly fast, and doesn't know why until he waits next to a butcher's shop one day. He watches the butcher berate his young son for driving their horse too hard, but the son tells him he's always told to rush, especially when delivering last-minute orders of fresh meat. \"If the gentry would think of what they want, and order their meat the day before, there need not be this blow up!\" , the young boy laments. So he's basically the pizza delivery guy of Victorian London. Beauty does say that some boys seem to treat their horses kindly, in particular one boy who sells vegetables with an old pony. \"The pony followed his master like a dog and rattle down the street as merrily as if he had come out of the Queen's stables\" , Beauty says. Jerry calls the boy \"Prince Charlie,\" saying he \" would make a king of drivers someday\" . Beauty also describes an old man with a coal cart who has a very close relationship with his old horse, and Jerry says, \" it was a comfort to think how happy an old horse might be in a poor place\" . So basically, money isn't necessarily the key to a horse's happiness.", "analysis": ""}

41 The Butcher I saw a great deal of trouble among the horses in London, and much of it might have been prevented by a little common sense. We horses do not mind hard work if we are treated reasonably, and I am sure there are many driven by quite poor men who have a happier life than I had when I used to go in the Countess of W----'s carriage, with my silver-mounted harness and high feeding. It often went to my heart to see how the little ponies were used, straining along with heavy loads or staggering under heavy blows from some low, cruel boy. Once I saw a little gray pony with a thick mane and a pretty head, and so much like Merrylegs that if I had not been in harness I should have neighed to him. He was doing his best to pull a heavy cart, while a strong rough boy was cutting him under the belly with his whip and chucking cruelly at his little mouth. Could it be Merrylegs? It was just like him; but then Mr. Blomefield was never to sell him, and I think he would not do it; but this might have been quite as good a little fellow, and had as happy a place when he was young. I often noticed the great speed at which butchers' horses were made to go, though I did not know why it was so till one day when we had to wait some time in St. John's Wood. There was a butcher's shop next door, and as we were standing a butcher's cart came dashing up at a great pace. The horse was hot and much exhausted; he hung his head down, while his heaving sides and trembling legs showed how hard he had been driven. The lad jumped out of the cart and was getting the basket when the master came out of the shop much displeased. After looking at the horse he turned angrily to the lad. "How many times shall I tell you not to drive in this way? You ruined the last horse and broke his wind, and you are going to ruin this in the same way. If you were not my own son I would dismiss you on the spot; it is a disgrace to have a horse brought to the shop in a condition like that; you are liable to be taken up by the police for such driving, and if you are you need not look to me for bail, for I have spoken to you till I'm tired; you must look out for yourself." During this speech the boy had stood by, sullen and dogged, but when his father ceased he broke out angrily. It wasn't his fault, and he wouldn't take the blame; he was only going by orders all the time. "You always say, 'Now be quick; now look sharp!' and when I go to the houses one wants a leg of mutton for an early dinner and I must be back with it in a quarter of an hour; another cook has forgotten to order the beef; I must go and fetch it and be back in no time, or the mistress will scold; and the housekeeper says they have company coming unexpectedly and must have some chops sent up directly; and the lady at No. 4, in the Crescent, never orders her dinner till the meat comes in for lunch, and it's nothing but hurry, hurry, all the time. If the gentry would think of what they want, and order their meat the day before, there need not be this blow up!" "I wish to goodness they would," said the butcher; "'twould save me a wonderful deal of harass, and I could suit my customers much better if I knew beforehand--But there! what's the use of talking--who ever thinks of a butcher's convenience or a butcher's horse! Now, then, take him in and look to him well; mind, he does not go out again to-day, and if anything else is wanted you must carry it yourself in the basket." With that he went in, and the horse was led away. But all boys are not cruel. I have seen some as fond of their pony or donkey as if it had been a favorite dog, and the little creatures have worked away as cheerfully and willingly for their young drivers as I work for Jerry. It may be hard work sometimes, but a friend's hand and voice make it easy. There was a young coster-boy who came up our street with greens and potatoes; he had an old pony, not very handsome, but the cheerfullest and pluckiest little thing I ever saw, and to see how fond those two were of each other was a treat. The pony followed his master like a dog, and when he got into his cart would trot off without a whip or a word, and rattle down the street as merrily as if he had come out of the queen's stables. Jerry liked the boy, and called him "Prince Charlie", for he said he would make a king of drivers some day. There was an old man, too, who used to come up our street with a little coal cart; he wore a coal-heaver's hat, and looked rough and black. He and his old horse used to plod together along the street, like two good partners who understood each other; the horse would stop of his own accord at the doors where they took coal of him; he used to keep one ear bent toward his master. The old man's cry could be heard up the street long before he came near. I never knew what he said, but the children called him "Old Ba-a-ar Hoo", for it sounded like that. Polly took her coal of him, and was very friendly, and Jerry said it was a comfort to think how happy an old horse might be in a poor place.

Chapter 41

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-41

Beauty says he's seen a lot of trouble with London horses, " and much of it that might have been prevented by a little common sense" . It's hard for him to watch little ponies that are made to pull heavy loads--one day he sees one that reminds him of Merrylegs being whipped and mistreated. He notices that butcher's horses are driven particularly fast, and doesn't know why until he waits next to a butcher's shop one day. He watches the butcher berate his young son for driving their horse too hard, but the son tells him he's always told to rush, especially when delivering last-minute orders of fresh meat. "If the gentry would think of what they want, and order their meat the day before, there need not be this blow up!" , the young boy laments. So he's basically the pizza delivery guy of Victorian London. Beauty does say that some boys seem to treat their horses kindly, in particular one boy who sells vegetables with an old pony. "The pony followed his master like a dog and rattle down the street as merrily as if he had come out of the Queen's stables" , Beauty says. Jerry calls the boy "Prince Charlie," saying he " would make a king of drivers someday" . Beauty also describes an old man with a coal cart who has a very close relationship with his old horse, and Jerry says, " it was a comfort to think how happy an old horse might be in a poor place" . So basically, money isn't necessarily the key to a horse's happiness.

shmoop

all_chapterized_books/271-chapters/42.txt

finished_summaries/shmoop/Black Beauty/section_41_part_0.txt

Black Beauty.part 3.chapter 42

chapter 42

{"name": "Chapter 42", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-42", "summary": "One afternoon Polly tells Jerry that someone named Mr. B wants to hire the cab for the election, meaning he's looking to advertise and wants a place to put his posters. Jerry refuses, saying, \"I should not like to have it pasted all over with their great bills\" . Polly asks Jerry if he'll vote for Mr. B, but Jerry says no because the guy has no clue about the wants and needs of workers. Jerry is kind of an opinionated guy, it seems. On the day before the election, Dolly comes home crying, saying that boys have taunted her, calling her a \"ragamuffin.\" Her brother, Harry, says he's defended her, and has \" given them a thrashing they will remember\" . Jerry lectures Harry, saying he hopes Harry will always defend Dolly, but that he won't tolerate any \"election blackguarding\" . And what's \"blackguarding\"? Taunting and ridicule. Jerry's basically saying no political arguments in the house. Jerry wraps up his political lecture by saying, \"An election is a very serious thing; at least it ought to be, and every man ought to vote according to his conscience, and let his neighbour do the same\" .", "analysis": ""}

42 The Election As we came into the yard one afternoon Polly came out. "Jerry! I've had Mr. B---- here asking about your vote, and he wants to hire your cab for the election; he will call for an answer." "Well, Polly, you may say that my cab will be otherwise engaged. I should not like to have it pasted over with their great bills, and as to making Jack and Captain race about to the public-houses to bring up half-drunken voters, why, I think 'twould be an insult to the horses. No, I shan't do it." "I suppose you'll vote for the gentleman? He said he was of your politics." "So he is in some things, but I shall not vote for him, Polly; you know what his trade is?" "Yes." "Well, a man who gets rich by that trade may be all very well in some ways, but he is blind as to what workingmen want; I could not in my conscience send him up to make the laws. I dare say they'll be angry, but every man must do what he thinks to be the best for his country." On the morning before the election, Jerry was putting me into the shafts, when Dolly came into the yard sobbing and crying, with her little blue frock and white pinafore spattered all over with mud. "Why, Dolly, what is the matter?" "Those naughty boys," she sobbed, "have thrown the dirt all over me, and called me a little raga--raga--" "They called her a little 'blue' ragamuffin, father," said Harry, who ran in looking very angry; "but I have given it to them; they won't insult my sister again. I have given them a thrashing they will remember; a set of cowardly, rascally 'orange' blackguards." Jerry kissed the child and said, "Run in to mother, my pet, and tell her I think you had better stay at home to-day and help her." Then turning gravely to Harry: "My boy, I hope you will always defend your sister, and give anybody who insults her a good thrashing--that is as it should be; but mind, I won't have any election blackguarding on my premises. There are as many 'blue' blackguards as there are 'orange', and as many white as there are purple, or any other color, and I won't have any of my family mixed up with it. Even women and children are ready to quarrel for the sake of a color, and not one in ten of them knows what it is about." "Why, father, I thought blue was for Liberty." "My boy, Liberty does not come from colors, they only show party, and all the liberty you can get out of them is, liberty to get drunk at other people's expense, liberty to ride to the poll in a dirty old cab, liberty to abuse any one that does not wear your color, and to shout yourself hoarse at what you only half-understand--that's your liberty!" "Oh, father, you are laughing." "No, Harry, I am serious, and I am ashamed to see how men go on who ought to know better. An election is a very serious thing; at least it ought to be, and every man ought to vote according to his conscience, and let his neighbor do the same."

Chapter 42

https://web.archive.org/web/20201205154804/https://www.shmoop.com/study-guides/literature/black-beauty/summary/chapter-42

One afternoon Polly tells Jerry that someone named Mr. B wants to hire the cab for the election, meaning he's looking to advertise and wants a place to put his posters. Jerry refuses, saying, "I should not like to have it pasted all over with their great bills" . Polly asks Jerry if he'll vote for Mr. B, but Jerry says no because the guy has no clue about the wants and needs of workers. Jerry is kind of an opinionated guy, it seems. On the day before the election, Dolly comes home crying, saying that boys have taunted her, calling her a "ragamuffin." Her brother, Harry, says he's defended her, and has " given them a thrashing they will remember" . Jerry lectures Harry, saying he hopes Harry will always defend Dolly, but that he won't tolerate any "election blackguarding" . And what's "blackguarding"? Taunting and ridicule. Jerry's basically saying no political arguments in the house. Jerry wraps up his political lecture by saying, "An election is a very serious thing; at least it ought to be, and every man ought to vote according to his conscience, and let his neighbour do the same" .

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/2.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_0_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 1.scene 1

act 1 scene 1

{"name": "Act I -- Scene 1", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scene-1", "summary": "The curtain rises to show the interior of a dimly lighted theater. Some cavaliers enter without paying and practice fencing; they are followed by two lackeys who sit on the floor and begin gambling; a middle-class man and his son enter; then a pickpocket and his accomplices come in. Through conversations we learn that this is the theater where Corneille's Le Cid was first performed, and that the play tonight is Baro's Clorise, and that its star is Montfleury.", "analysis": "This opening scene is a very good example of two things: the playwright's problem of providing his audience with necessary information, and Rostand's craftsmanship in dealing with the problem. While the novelist can give descriptions, explanations, and background material in many ways, the playwright has only the dialogue and setting -- and sometimes the latter must be explained in the dialogue if it is especially significant. Notice the many types of people -- those who come to play cards, to picnic, to flirt, to steal, and even a few honest souls who really want to see the play -- whom Rostand introduces in this brief scene. But he is not only describing a cross section of seventeenth-century French society; he also manages a comment on that society by having the two cavaliers enter the theater without buying tickets. Overall, he gives the very distinct impression to the audience that this is an exciting period in the history of the French theater. And, since the student of French civilization automatically thinks of Corneille, Moliere, and Racine when he thinks of seventeenth-century France, what better place to begin a play set in that period than in its most famous theater? Apart from all the information conveyed, there is also the mood of the play, which must be established at the beginning. Rostand does this with his setting, for there is a distinct excitement in a theater before a play just as there is before a symphony or opera when the musicians are tuning their instruments. If the playwright's problem at the opening of a play were simply that of conveying information and establishing mood, it would be relatively easy to solve. But one must remember that the playwright must not only capture the attention of the audience, but must also hold its interest for the full course of the play. The air of anticipation created by the setting in this scene is added -- and the element of suspense is introduced -- to the scenes immediately following."}

The public, arriving by degrees. Troopers, burghers, lackeys, pages, a pickpocket, the doorkeeper, etc., followed by the marquises. Cuigy, Brissaille, the buffet-girl, the violinists, etc. (A confusion of loud voices is heard outside the door. A trooper enters hastily.) THE DOORKEEPER (following him): Hollo! You there! Your money! THE TROOPER: I enter gratis. THE DOORKEEPER: Why? THE TROOPER: Why? I am of the King's Household Cavalry, 'faith! THE DOORKEEPER (to another trooper who enters): And you? SECOND TROOPER: I pay nothing. THE DOORKEEPER: How so? SECOND TROOPER: I am a musketeer. FIRST TROOPER (to the second): The play will not begin till two. The pit is empty. Come, a bout with the foils to pass the time. (They fence with the foils they have brought.) A LACKEY (entering): Pst. . .Flanquin. . .! ANOTHER (already there): Champagne?. . . THE FIRST (showing him cards and dice which he takes from his doublet): See, here be cards and dice. (He seats himself on the floor): Let's play. THE SECOND (doing the same): Good; I am with you, villain! FIRST LACKEY (taking from his pocket a candle-end, which he lights, and sticks on the floor): I made free to provide myself with light at my master's expense! A GUARDSMAN (to a shop-girl who advances): 'Twas prettily done to come before the lights were lit! (He takes her round the waist.) ONE OF THE FENCERS (receiving a thrust): A hit! ONE OF THE CARD-PLAYERS: Clubs! THE GUARDSMAN (following the girl): A kiss! THE SHOP-GIRL (struggling to free herself): They're looking! THE GUARDSMAN (drawing her to a dark corner): No fear! No one can see! A MAN (sitting on the ground with others, who have brought their provisions): By coming early, one can eat in comfort. A BURGHER (conducting his son): Let us sit here, son. A CARD-PLAYER: Triple ace! A MAN (taking a bottle from under his cloak, and also seating himself on the floor): A tippler may well quaff his Burgundy (he drinks): in the Burgundy Hotel! THE BURGHER (to his son): 'Faith! A man might think he had fallen in a bad house here! (He points with his cane to the drunkard): What with topers! (One of the fencers in breaking off, jostles him): brawlers! (He stumbles into the midst of the card-players): gamblers! THE GUARDSMAN (behind him, still teasing the shop-girl): Come, one kiss! THE BURGHER (hurriedly pulling his son away): By all the holies! And this, my boy, is the theater where they played Rotrou erewhile. THE YOUNG MAN: Ay, and Corneille! A TROOP OF PAGES (hand-in-hand, enter dancing the farandole, and singing): Tra' a la, la, la, la, la, la, la, lere. . . THE DOORKEEPER (sternly, to the pages): You pages there, none of your tricks!. . . FIRST PAGE (with an air of wounded dignity): Oh, sir!--such a suspicion!. . . (Briskly, to the second page, the moment the doorkeeper's back is turned): Have you string? THE SECOND: Ay, and a fish-hook with it. FIRST PAGE: We can angle for wigs, then, up there i' th' gallery. A PICKPOCKET (gathering about him some evil-looking youths): Hark ye, young cut-purses, lend an ear, while I give you your first lesson in thieving. SECOND PAGE (calling up to others in the top galleries): You there! Have you peashooters? THIRD PAGE (from above): Ay, have we, and peas withal! (He blows, and peppers them with peas.) THE YOUNG MAN (to his father): What piece do they give us? THE BURGHER: 'Clorise.' THE YOUNG MAN: Who may the author be? THE BURGHER: Master Balthazar Baro. It is a play!. . . (He goes arm-in-arm with his son.) THE PICKPOCKET (to his pupils): Have a care, above all, of the lace knee-ruffles--cut them off! A SPECTATOR (to another, showing him a corner in the gallery): I was up there, the first night of the 'Cid.' THE PICKPOCKET (making with his fingers the gesture of filching): Thus for watches-- THE BURGHER (coming down again with his son): Ah! You shall presently see some renowned actors. . . THE PICKPOCKET (making the gestures of one who pulls something stealthily, with little jerks): Thus for handkerchiefs-- THE BURGHER: Montfleury. . . SOME ONE (shouting from the upper gallery): Light up, below there! THE BURGHER: . . .Bellerose, L'Epy, La Beaupre, Jodelet! A PAGE (in the pit): Here comes the buffet-girl! THE BUFFET-GIRL (taking her place behind the buffet): Oranges, milk, raspberry-water, cedar bitters! (A hubbub outside the door is heard.) A FALSETTO VOICE: Make place, brutes! A LACKEY (astonished): The Marquises!--in the pit?. . . ANOTHER LACKEY: Oh! only for a minute or two! (Enter a band of young marquises.) A MARQUIS (seeing that the hall is half empty): What now! So we make our entrance like a pack of woolen-drapers! Peaceably, without disturbing the folk, or treading on their toes!--Oh, fie! Fie! (Recognizing some other gentlemen who have entered a little before him): Cuigy! Brissaille! (Greetings and embraces.) CUIGY: True to our word!. . .Troth, we are here before the candles are lit. THE MARQUIS: Ay, indeed! Enough! I am of an ill humor. ANOTHER: Nay, nay, Marquis! see, for your consolation, they are coming to light up! ALL THE AUDIENCE (welcoming the entrance of the lighter): Ah!. . . (They form in groups round the lusters as they are lit. Some people have taken their seats in the galleries. Ligniere, a distinguished-looking roue, with disordered shirt-front arm-in-arm with christian de Neuvillette. Christian, who is dressed elegantly, but rather behind the fashion, seems preoccupied, and keeps looking at the boxes.)

Act I -- Scene 1

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scene-1

The curtain rises to show the interior of a dimly lighted theater. Some cavaliers enter without paying and practice fencing; they are followed by two lackeys who sit on the floor and begin gambling; a middle-class man and his son enter; then a pickpocket and his accomplices come in. Through conversations we learn that this is the theater where Corneille's Le Cid was first performed, and that the play tonight is Baro's Clorise, and that its star is Montfleury.

This opening scene is a very good example of two things: the playwright's problem of providing his audience with necessary information, and Rostand's craftsmanship in dealing with the problem. While the novelist can give descriptions, explanations, and background material in many ways, the playwright has only the dialogue and setting -- and sometimes the latter must be explained in the dialogue if it is especially significant. Notice the many types of people -- those who come to play cards, to picnic, to flirt, to steal, and even a few honest souls who really want to see the play -- whom Rostand introduces in this brief scene. But he is not only describing a cross section of seventeenth-century French society; he also manages a comment on that society by having the two cavaliers enter the theater without buying tickets. Overall, he gives the very distinct impression to the audience that this is an exciting period in the history of the French theater. And, since the student of French civilization automatically thinks of Corneille, Moliere, and Racine when he thinks of seventeenth-century France, what better place to begin a play set in that period than in its most famous theater? Apart from all the information conveyed, there is also the mood of the play, which must be established at the beginning. Rostand does this with his setting, for there is a distinct excitement in a theater before a play just as there is before a symphony or opera when the musicians are tuning their instruments. If the playwright's problem at the opening of a play were simply that of conveying information and establishing mood, it would be relatively easy to solve. But one must remember that the playwright must not only capture the attention of the audience, but must also hold its interest for the full course of the play. The air of anticipation created by the setting in this scene is added -- and the element of suspense is introduced -- to the scenes immediately following.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_1_chapters_2_to_3.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_1_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 1.scenes 2-3

act 1 scenes 2-3

{"name": "Act I -- Scenes 2-3", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scenes-23", "summary": "Christian is introduced in Scene 2 by the poet, Ligniere. The poet/baker, Ragueneau, enters dressed in his Sunday best, and talks with Ligniere. He asks about Cyrano, who has forbidden Montfleury to act, but who has not yet appeared. Ragueneau describes Cyrano's nose as well as his reputation as a swordsman. When Roxane enters the theater, Ligniere tells Christian, who has fallen in love with her without knowing her identity, who the lady is. He also tells Christian that De Guiche, who is married to Richelieu's niece and is very powerful, wants Roxane to marry a complaisant courtier, Valvert, so that De Guiche can make her his own mistress. In Ligniere's opinion, Christian hasn't a chance with the lady. After Ligniere leaves the theater, Christian learns from a pickpocket that Ligniere has written a poem that has offended some powerful person. This highly placed man plans to have the poet killed and has hired a hundred armed men to waylay Ligniere on his way home. Christian goes off to find Ligniere and warn him. Montfleury goes onto the stage and begins his first speech, the prologue of the play, but he is interrupted by the voice of Cyrano telling him to stop. He makes several attempts to continue his speech, but is interrupted by Cyrano each time.", "analysis": "It may seem that nothing much happens during the first three scenes. People wander in and out, we are given snatches of conversations, and in Scenes 2 and 3 Christian and Ligniere come and go, as does Ragueneau. Actually, these characters are giving us information that we will need later in order to understand the play. As in Scene 1, there is a variety of characters introduced. The marquis who comments that Christian is handsome enough, but not really in the latest fashion, is an excellent example of the precieuse attitude . Our knowledge of the marquis -- he is vain, and affected in language, manners, and dress -- will help us to understand that of Roxane, since she is also one of the precieuse. We are told of the political climate in France and of the worsening relationship with Spain, which prepares us for the later mention of the forthcoming battle of Arras. Duels were fought then, and we discover that an insult in a poem was sufficient cause for murder. We may rightly assume that the theater is important since members of the Academy are present. By the end of Scene 3, we have been introduced to the three men who are in love with Roxane, and their characters have been explained. Christian is an \"honest, brave soldier\" who fears that he will not have the words to win her. De Guiche is powerful and arrogant. Cyrano is a noble, brave man, \"an exquisite being.\" Roxane is introduced as well, and so we have the conflict of the play: De Guiche's interest in Roxane, Christian's love for her, and Cyrano's love for Roxane. It might, perhaps, be worthy of mention here that Rostand represented most of his characters who have historical counterparts according to the generally reputed personality of the character. Montfleury's obesity was satirized by both Moliere and the historical Cyrano, and Ligniere refers to him as a \"hippopotamus.\" The groundwork for the events that occur toward the end of Act I is laid in the knowledge that Ligniere is in danger. We are also prepared for Cyrano's appearance: He has a huge nose that no one dares mention to him, even by implication. The interest shown in him arouses our own interest and curiosity. If such a character had appeared without preparation, he might well have seemed merely ridiculous. In other words, we are now prepared for the delightful events in Scene 4."}

The same. Christian, Ligniere, then Ragueneau and Le Bret. CUIGY: Ligniere! BRISSAILLE (laughing): Not drunk as yet? LIGNIERE (aside to Christian): I may introduce you? (Christian nods in assent): Baron de Neuvillette. (Bows.) THE AUDIENCE (applauding as the first luster is lighted and drawn up): Ah! CUIGY (to Brissaille, looking at Christian): 'Tis a pretty fellow! FIRST MARQUIS (who has overheard): Pooh! LIGNIERE (introducing them to Christian): My lords De Cuigy. De Brissaille. . . CHRISTIAN (bowing): Delighted!. . . FIRST MARQUIS (to second): He is not ill to look at, but certes, he is not costumed in the latest mode. LIGNIERE (to Cuigy): This gentleman comes from Touraine. CHRISTIAN: Yes, I have scarce been twenty days in Paris; tomorrow I join the Guards, in the Cadets. FIRST MARQUIS (watching the people who are coming into the boxes): There is the wife of the Chief-Justice. THE BUFFET-GIRL: Oranges, milk. . . THE VIOLINISTS (tuning up): La--la-- CUIGY (to Christian, pointing to the hall, which is filling fast): 'Tis crowded. CHRISTIAN: Yes, indeed. FIRST MARQUIS: All the great world! (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 sports with our poor hearts!. . . LIGNIERE: Ha! so Monsieur de Corneille has come back from Rouen! THE YOUNG MAN (to his father): Is the Academy here? THE BURGHER: Oh, ay, I see several of them. There is Boudu, Boissat, and Cureau de la Chambre, Porcheres, Colomby, Bourzeys, Bourdon, Arbaud. . .all names that will live! 'Tis fine! FIRST MARQUIS: Attention! Here come our precieuses; Barthenoide, Urimedonte, Cassandace, Felixerie. . . SECOND MARQUIS: Ah! How exquisite their fancy names are! Do you know them all, Marquis? FIRST MARQUIS: Ay, Marquis, I do, every one! LIGNIERE (drawing Christian aside): Friend, I but came here to give you pleasure. The lady comes not. I will betake me again to my pet vice. CHRISTIAN (persuasively): No, no! You, who are ballad-maker to Court and City alike, can tell me better than any who the lady is for whom I die of love. Stay yet awhile. THE FIRST VIOLIN (striking his bow on the desk): Gentlemen violinists! (He raises his bow.) THE BUFFET-GIRL: Macaroons, lemon-drink. . . (The violins begin to play.) CHRISTIAN: Ah! I fear me she is coquettish, and over nice and fastidious! I, who am so poor of wit, how dare I speak to her--how address her? This language that they speak to-day--ay, and write--confounds me; I am but an honest soldier, and timid withal. She has ever her place, there, on the right--the empty box, see you! LIGNIERE (making as if to go): I must go. CHRISTIAN (detaining him): Nay, stay. LIGNIERE: I cannot. D'Assoucy waits me at the tavern, and here one dies of thirst. THE BUFFET-GIRL (passing before him with a tray): Orange drink? LIGNIERE: Ugh! THE BUFFET-GIRL: Milk? LIGNIERE: Pah! THE BUFFET-GIRL: Rivesalte? LIGNIERE: Stay. (To Christian): I will remain awhile.--Let me taste this rivesalte. (He sits by the buffet; the girl pours some out for him.) CRIES (from all the audience, at the entrance of a plump little man, joyously excited): Ah! Ragueneau! LIGNIERE (to Christian): 'Tis 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 do me too great honor. . . LIGNIERE: Nay, hold your peace, Maecenas that you are! RAGUENEAU: True, these gentlemen employ me. . . LIGNIERE: On credit! He is himself a poet of a pretty talent. . . RAGUENEAU: So they tell me. LIGNIERE: --Mad after poetry! RAGUENEAU: 'Tis true that, for a little ode. . . LIGNIERE: You give a tart. . . RAGUENEAU: Oh!--a tartlet! LIGNIERE: Brave fellow! He would fain fain excuse himself! --And for a triolet, now, did you not give in exchange. . . RAGUENEAU: Some little rolls! LIGNIERE (severely): They were milk-rolls! And as for the theater, which you love? RAGUENEAU: Oh! to distraction! LIGNIERE: How pay you your tickets, ha?--with cakes. Your place, to-night, come tell me in my ear, what did it cost you? RAGUENEAU: Four custards, and fifteen cream-puffs. (He looks around on all sides): Monsieur de Cyrano is not here? 'Tis strange. LIGNIERE: Why so? RAGUENEAU: Montfleury plays! LIGNIERE: Ay, 'tis true that that old wine-barrel is to take Phedon's part to-night; but what matter is that to Cyrano? RAGUENEAU: How? Know you not? He has got a hot hate for Montfleury, and so!--has forbid him strictly to show his face on the stage for one whole month. LIGNIERE (drinking his fourth glass): Well? RAGUENEAU: Montfleury will play! CUIGY: He can not hinder that. RAGUENEAU: Oh! oh! that I have come to see! FIRST MARQUIS: Who is this Cyrano? CUIGY: A fellow well skilled in all tricks of fence. SECOND MARQUIS: Is he of noble birth? CUIGY: Ay, noble enough. He is a cadet in the Guards. (Pointing to a gentleman who is going up and down the hall as if searching for some one): But 'tis his friend Le Bret, yonder, who can best tell you. (He calls him): Le Bret! (Le Bret comes towards them): Seek you for De Bergerac? LE BRET: Ay, I am uneasy. . . CUIGY: Is it not true that he is the strangest of men? LE BRET (tenderly): True, that he is the choicest of earthly beings! RAGUENEAU: Poet! CUIGY: Soldier! BRISSAILLE: Philosopher! LE BRET: Musician! LIGNIERE: And of how fantastic a presence! RAGENEAU: Marry, 'twould puzzle even our grim painter Philippe de Champaigne to portray him! Methinks, whimsical, wild, comical as he is, only Jacques Callot, now dead and gone, had succeeded better, and had made of him the maddest fighter of all his visored crew--with his triple-plumed beaver and six-pointed doublet--the sword-point sticking up 'neath his mantle like an insolent cocktail! He's prouder than all the fierce Artabans of whom Gascony has ever been and will ever be the prolific Alma Mater! Above his Toby ruff he carries a nose!--ah, good my lords, what a nose is his! When one sees it one is fain to cry aloud, 'Nay! 'tis too much! He plays a joke on us!' Then one laughs, says 'He will anon take it off.' But no!--Monsieur de Bergerac always keeps it on. LE BRET (throwing back his head): He keeps it on--and cleaves in two any man who dares remark on it! RAGUENEAU (proudly): His sword--'tis one half of the Fates' shears! FIRST MARQUIS (shrugging his shoulders): He will not come! RAGUENEAU: I say he will! and I wager a fowl--a la Ragueneau. THE MARQUIS (laughing): Good! (Murmurs of admiration in hall. Roxane has just appeared in her box. She seats herself in front, the duenna at the back. Christian, who is paying the buffet-girl, does not see her entrance.) SECOND MARQUIS (with little cries of joy): Ah, gentlemen! she is fearfully--terribly--ravishing! FIRST MARQUIS: When one looks at her one thinks of a peach smiling at a strawberry! SECOND MARQUIS: And what freshness! A man approaching her too near might chance to get a bad chill at the heart! CHRISTIAN (raising his head, sees Roxane, and catches Ligniere by the arm): 'Tis she! LIGNIERE: Ah! is it she? CHRISTIAN: Ay, tell me quick--I am afraid. LIGNIERE (tasting his rivesalte in sips): Magdaleine Robin--Roxane, so called! A subtle wit--a precieuse. CHRISTIAN: Woe is me! LIGNIERE: Free. An orphan. The cousin of Cyrano, of whom we were now speaking. (At this moment an elegant nobleman, with blue ribbon across his breast, enters the box, and talks with Roxane, standing.) CHRISTIAN (starting): Who is yonder man? LIGNIERE (who is becoming tipsy, winking at him): Ha! ha! Count de Guiche. Enamored of her. But wedded to the niece of Armand de Richelieu. Would fain marry Roxane to a certain sorry fellow, one Monsieur de Valvert, a viscount--and--accommodating! She will none of that bargain; but De Guiche is powerful, and can persecute the daughter of a plain untitled gentleman. More by token, I myself have exposed this cunning plan of his to the world, in a song which. . .Ho! he must rage at me! The end hit home. . .Listen! (He gets up staggering, and raises his glass, ready to sing.) CHRISTIAN: No. Good-night. LIGNIERE: Where go you? CHRISTIAN: To Monsieur de Valvert! LIGNIERE: Have a care! It is he who will kill you (showing him Roxane by a look): Stay where you are--she is looking at you. CHRISTIAN: It is true! (He stands looking at her. The group of pickpockets seeing him thus, head in air and open-mouthed, draw near to him.) LIGNIERE: 'Tis I who am going. I am athirst! And they expect me--in the taverns! (He goes out, reeling.) LE BRET (who has been all round the hall, coming back to Ragueneau reassured): No sign of Cyrano. RAGUENEAU (incredulously): All the same. . . LE BRET: A hope is left to me--that he has not seen the playbill! THE AUDIENCE: Begin, begin! The same, all but Ligniere. De Guiche, Valvert, then Montfleury. A marquis (watching De Guiche, who comes down from Roxane's box, and crosses the pit surrounded by obsequious noblemen, among them the Viscount de Valvert): He pays a fine court, your De Guiche! ANOTHER: Faugh!. . .Another Gascon! THE FIRST: Ay, but the cold, supple Gascon--that is the stuff success is made of! Believe me, we had best make our bow to him. (They go toward De Guiche.) SECOND MARQUIS: What fine ribbons! How call you the color, Count de Guiche? 'Kiss me, my darling,' or 'Timid Fawn?' DE GUICHE: 'Tis the color called 'Sick Spaniard.' FIRST MARQUIS: 'Faith! The color speaks truth, for, thanks to your valor, things will soon go ill for Spain in Flanders. DE GUICHE: I go on the stage! Will you come? (He goes toward the stage, followed by the marquises and gentlemen. Turning, he calls): Come you Valvert! CHRISTIAN (who is watching and listening, starts on hearing this name): The Viscount! Ah! I will throw full in his face my. . . (He puts his hand in his pocket, and finds there the hand of a pickpocket who is about to rob him. He turns round): Hey? THE PICKPOCKET: Oh! CHRISTIAN (holding him tightly): I was looking for a glove. THE PICKPOCKET (smiling piteously): And you find a hand. (Changing his tone, quickly and in a whisper): Let me but go, and I will deliver you a secret. CHRISTIAN (still holding him): What is it? THE PICKPOCKET: Ligniere. . .he who has just left you. . . CHRISTIAN (same play): Well? THE PICKPOCKET: His life is in peril. A song writ by him has given offense in high places-- and a hundred men--I am of them--are posted to-night. . . CHRISTIAN: A hundred men! By whom posted? THE PICKPOCKET: I may not say--a secret. . . CHRISTIAN (shrugging his shoulders): Oh! THE PICKPOCKET (with great dignity): . . .Of the profession. CHRISTIAN: Where are they posted? THE PICKPOCKET: At the Porte de Nesle. On his way homeward. Warn him. CHRISTIAN (letting go of his wrists): But where can I find him? THE PICKPOCKET: Run round to all the taverns--The Golden Wine Press, the Pine Cone, The Belt that Bursts, The Two Torches, The Three Funnels, and at each leave a word that shall put him on his guard. CHRISTIAN: Good--I fly! Ah, the scoundrels! A hundred men 'gainst one! (Looking lovingly at Roxane): Ah, to leave her!. . . (looking with rage at Valvert): and him!. . .But save Ligniere I must! (He hurries out. De Guiche, the viscount, the marquises, have all disappeared behind the curtain to take their places on the benches placed on the stage. The pit is quite full; the galleries and boxes are also crowded.) THE AUDIENCE: Begin! A BURGHER (whose wig is drawn up on the end of a string by a page in the upper gallery): My wig! CRIES OF DELIGHT: He is bald! Bravo, pages--ha! ha! ha!. . . THE BURGHER (furious, shaking his fist): Young villain! LAUGHTER AND CRIES (beginning very loud, and dying gradually away): Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! (Total silence.) LE BRET (astonished): What means this sudden silence?. . . (A spectator says something to him in a low voice): Is't true? THE SPECTATOR: I have just heard it on good authority. MURMURS (spreading through the hall): Hush! Is it he? No! Ay, I say! In the box with the bars in front! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! A PAGE: The devil! We shall have to behave ourselves. . . (A knock is heard upon the stage. Every one is motionless. A pause.) THE VOICE OF A MARQUIS (in the silence, behind the curtain): Snuff that candle! ANOTHER MARQUIS (putting his head through the opening in the curtain): A chair! (A chair is passed from hand to hand, over the heads of the spectators. The marquis takes it and disappears, after blowing some kisses to the boxes.) A SPECTATOR: Silence! (Three knocks are heard on the stage. The curtain opens in the centre Tableau. The marquises in insolent attitudes seated on each side of the stage. The scene represents a pastoral landscape. Four little lusters light the stage; the violins play softly.) LE BRET (in a low voice to Ragueneau): Montfleury comes on the scene? RAGUENEAU (also in a low voice): Ay, 'tis he who begins. LE BRET: Cyrano is not here. RAGUENEAU: I have lost my wager. LE BRET: 'Tis all the better! (An air on the drone-pipes is heard, and Montfleury enters, enormously stout, in an Arcadian shepherd's dress, a hat wreathed with roses drooping over one ear, blowing into a ribboned drone pipe.) THE PIT (applauding): Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury! MONTFLEURY (after bowing low, begins the part of Phedon): 'Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu solitaire, Se prescrit a soi-meme un exil volontaire, Et qui, lorsque Zephire a souffle sur les bois. . .' A VOICE (from the middle of the pit): Villain! Did I not forbid you to show your face here for month? (General stupor. Every one turns round. Murmurs.) DIFFERENT VOICES: Hey?--What?--What is't?. . . (The people stand up in the boxes to look.) CUIGY: 'Tis he! LE BRET (terrified): Cyrano! THE VOICE: King of clowns! Leave the stage this instant! ALL THE AUDIENCE (indignantly): Oh! MONTFLEURY: But. . . THE VOICE: Do you dare defy me? DIFFERENT VOICES (from the pit and the boxes): Peace! Enough!--Play on, Montfleury--fear nothing! MONTFLEURY (in a trembling voice): 'Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu sol--' THE VOICE (more fiercely): Well! Chief of all the blackguards, must I come and give you a taste of my cane? (A hand holding a cane starts up over the heads of the spectators.) MONTFLEURY (in a voice that trembles more and more): 'Heureux qui. . .' (The cane is shaken.) THE VOICE: Off the stage! THE PIT: Oh! MONTFLEURY (choking): 'Heureux qui loin des cours. . .' CYRANO (appearing suddenly in the pit, standing on a chair, his arms crossed, his beaver cocked fiercely, his mustache bristling, his nose terrible to see): Ah! I shall be angry in a minute!. . . (Sensation.)

Act I -- Scenes 2-3

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scenes-23

Christian is introduced in Scene 2 by the poet, Ligniere. The poet/baker, Ragueneau, enters dressed in his Sunday best, and talks with Ligniere. He asks about Cyrano, who has forbidden Montfleury to act, but who has not yet appeared. Ragueneau describes Cyrano's nose as well as his reputation as a swordsman. When Roxane enters the theater, Ligniere tells Christian, who has fallen in love with her without knowing her identity, who the lady is. He also tells Christian that De Guiche, who is married to Richelieu's niece and is very powerful, wants Roxane to marry a complaisant courtier, Valvert, so that De Guiche can make her his own mistress. In Ligniere's opinion, Christian hasn't a chance with the lady. After Ligniere leaves the theater, Christian learns from a pickpocket that Ligniere has written a poem that has offended some powerful person. This highly placed man plans to have the poet killed and has hired a hundred armed men to waylay Ligniere on his way home. Christian goes off to find Ligniere and warn him. Montfleury goes onto the stage and begins his first speech, the prologue of the play, but he is interrupted by the voice of Cyrano telling him to stop. He makes several attempts to continue his speech, but is interrupted by Cyrano each time.

It may seem that nothing much happens during the first three scenes. People wander in and out, we are given snatches of conversations, and in Scenes 2 and 3 Christian and Ligniere come and go, as does Ragueneau. Actually, these characters are giving us information that we will need later in order to understand the play. As in Scene 1, there is a variety of characters introduced. The marquis who comments that Christian is handsome enough, but not really in the latest fashion, is an excellent example of the precieuse attitude . Our knowledge of the marquis -- he is vain, and affected in language, manners, and dress -- will help us to understand that of Roxane, since she is also one of the precieuse. We are told of the political climate in France and of the worsening relationship with Spain, which prepares us for the later mention of the forthcoming battle of Arras. Duels were fought then, and we discover that an insult in a poem was sufficient cause for murder. We may rightly assume that the theater is important since members of the Academy are present. By the end of Scene 3, we have been introduced to the three men who are in love with Roxane, and their characters have been explained. Christian is an "honest, brave soldier" who fears that he will not have the words to win her. De Guiche is powerful and arrogant. Cyrano is a noble, brave man, "an exquisite being." Roxane is introduced as well, and so we have the conflict of the play: De Guiche's interest in Roxane, Christian's love for her, and Cyrano's love for Roxane. It might, perhaps, be worthy of mention here that Rostand represented most of his characters who have historical counterparts according to the generally reputed personality of the character. Montfleury's obesity was satirized by both Moliere and the historical Cyrano, and Ligniere refers to him as a "hippopotamus." The groundwork for the events that occur toward the end of Act I is laid in the knowledge that Ligniere is in danger. We are also prepared for Cyrano's appearance: He has a huge nose that no one dares mention to him, even by implication. The interest shown in him arouses our own interest and curiosity. If such a character had appeared without preparation, he might well have seemed merely ridiculous. In other words, we are now prepared for the delightful events in Scene 4.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/5.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_2_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 1.scene 4

act 1 scene 4

{"name": "Act I -- Scene 4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scene-4", "summary": "Montfleury tries to continue his speech, but is repeatedly interrupted by Cyrano. The audience jeers Cyrano, who offers to fight anyone who will come forward in Montfleury's defense, but no one comes. Montfleury leaves the stage. The theater manager points out to Cyrano that if he does not allow the play to proceed, the manager will have to refund the money to the patrons. Cyrano tosses a sack of gold to him, which is obviously more than adequate to cover the loss. Cyrano is not worried by the fact that Montfleury has a powerful patron who may be angry at Cyrano's preventing the performance. The vicomte, Valvert, says to Cyrano, \"Your nose is, hmm ... is ... very ... hmm ... big.\" This leads to one of the memorable moments of the play in which Cyrano, with great wit and charm, suggests what many types of people might say about his nose. After this tirade by Cyrano, De Guiche tries to lead the vicomte away, but the foolish man delays long enough to sneer at Cyrano for not wearing gloves. Cyrano replies that his elegances are moral ones. Then he announces that he will fight a duel with the vicomte and that, while they are fighting, he will compose a ballade . At the end of the refrain, he says, he will end the duel with a thrust. He does exactly as he has promised. When the hall is almost empty, Le Bret asks why Cyrano has not eaten dinner. He confesses that he has no money. Le Bret asks about the sack of gold that Cyrano threw to the theater manager, and Cyrano confesses that that was his month's income -- he has nothing left. \"What foolishness,\" says Le Bret. \"But what a beautiful gesture!\" Cyrano replies.", "analysis": "The first three scenes of the first act have accomplished, among other things, the setting of the play and the introduction of nearly all the major characters, including Cyrano. But Cyrano does not appear on the stage during these three scenes. All we know about him -- who and what he is, as well as the size of his nose -- comes from the dialogue of no less than half a dozen other characters. This preparation is extremely important, for if we were not so well prepared beforehand -- if, for instance, Cyrano were to be visible on stage at the rise of the opening curtain -- our reaction to this apparently ludicrous character would be completely different from what it is. As it is, we have heard a great deal about Cyrano in these early scenes, and Scene 3 ends with Cyrano on stage speaking to Montfleury. Scene 4 begins with Cyrano making himself visible to the audience. Notice that there is not necessarily a curtain or any break in the action between scenes. And here is an excellent example of Rostand's dramatic technique. When a major character makes an important entrance, the eyes, as well as the interest of the audience must be directed to that character. A standard device for accomplishing this is by having a minor character precede the major character on stage and announce his arrival. Rostand's device is enormously more effective. Cyrano's presence on stage is indicated only when he speaks his first line to Montfleury, and suspense is heightened as the audience tries to locate the speaker. In case some of the audience still do not know where to look for Cyrano, Rostand has Cyrano raise his arm and wave his cane. Now we know exactly where he is, and the attention of the audience is riveted to the spot. And now we are finally allowed to see the man for whose entrance we have been so well prepared. This long scene is not only exciting from both the intellectual and physical standpoints, but it serves to refine our knowledge of Cyrano's character. And it is his character and personality that make most of the events in the play seem real and logical regardless of how unlikely they might appear otherwise. In other words, given Cyrano's character, there is a \"willing suspension of disbelief\" on the part of the audience. Cyrano's extreme sensitivity about his nose is made clear when he challenges the vicomte to a duel and doubly insults him by besting him in the duel and composing a poem at the same time. Cyrano is highly intelligent, talented, brave, impetuous, and sensitive. He is more than that: After the duel, we learn that he has no money left. His comment that tossing the bag of gold onto the stage to reimburse the theater manager was a beautiful gesture tells us that the \"beau geste\" means more to him than bread. He is extremely idealistic and has a very dramatic temperament. From the discussion about the patron of Montfleury, we learn that all artists are expected to have a patron -- one who supports his protege with money and position. Cyrano has no patron. He stands alone, beholden to no man, independent, unafraid, and unprotected."}

The same. Cyrano, then Bellerose, Jodelet. MONTFLEURY (to the marquises): Come to my help, my lords! A MARQUIS (carelessly): Go on! Go on! CYRANO: Fat man, take warning! If you go on, I Shall feel myself constrained to cuff your face! THE MARQUIS: Have done! CYRANO: And if these lords hold not their tongue Shall feel constrained to make them taste my cane! ALL THE MARQUISES (rising): Enough!. . .Montfleury. . . CYRANO: If he goes not quick I will cut off his ears and slit him up! A VOICE: But. . . CYRANO: Out he goes! ANOTHER VOICE: Yet. . . CYRANO: Is he not gone yet? (He makes the gesture of turning up his cuffs): Good! I shall mount the stage now, buffet-wise, To carve this fine Italian sausage--thus! MONTFLEURY (trying to be dignified): You outrage Thalia in insulting me! CYRANO (very politely): If that Muse, Sir, who knows you not at all, Could claim acquaintance with you--oh, believe (Seeing how urn-like, fat, and slow you are) That she would make you taste her buskin's sole! THE PIT: Montfleury! Montfleury! Come--Baro's play! CYRANO (to those who are calling out): I pray you have a care! If you go on My scabbard soon will render up its blade! (The circle round him widens.) THE CROWD (drawing back): Take care! CYRANO (to Montfleury): Leave the stage! THE CROWD (coming near and grumbling): Oh!-- CYRANO: Did some one speak? (They draw back again.) A VOICE (singing at the back): Monsieur de Cyrano Displays his tyrannies: A fig for tyrants! What, ho! Come! Play us 'La Clorise!' ALL THE PIT (singing): 'La Clorise!' 'La Clorise!'. . . CYRANO: Let me but hear once more that foolish rhyme, I slaughter every man of you. A BURGHER: Oh! Samson? CYRANO: Yes Samson! Will you lend your jawbone, Sir? A LADY (in the boxes): Outrageous! A LORD: Scandalous! A BURGHER: 'Tis most annoying! A PAGE: Fair good sport! THE PIT: Kss!--Montfleury. . .Cyrano! CYRANO: Silence! THE PIT (wildly excited): Ho-o-o-o-h! Quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo! CYRANO: I order-- A PAGE: Miow! CYRANO: I order silence, all! And challenge the whole pit collectively!-- I write your names!--Approach, young heroes, here! Each in his turn! I cry the numbers out!-- Now which of you will come to ope the lists? You, Sir? No! You? No! The first duellist Shall be dispatched by me with honors due! Let all who long for death hold up their hands! (A silence): Modest? You fear to see my naked blade? Not one name?--Not one hand?--Good, I proceed! (Turning toward the stage, where Montfleury waits in an agony): The theater's too full, congested,--I Would clear it out. . .If not. . . (Puts his hand on his sword): The knife must act! MONTFLEURY: I. . . CYRANO (leaves his chair, and settles himself in the middle of the circle which has formed): I will clap my hands thrice, thus--full moon! At the third clap, eclipse yourself! THE PIT (amused): Ah! CYRANO (clapping his hands): One! MONTFLEURY: I. . . A VOICE (in the boxes): Stay! THE PIT: He stays. . .he goes. . .he stays. . . MONTFLEURY: I think. . .Gentlemen,. . . CYRANO: Two! MONTFLEURY: I think 'twere wisest. . . CYRANO: Three! (Montfleury disappears as through a trap. Tempest of laughs, whistling cries, etc.) THE WHOLE HOUSE: Coward. . .come back! CYRANO (delighted, sits back in his chair, arms crossed): Come back an if you dare! A BURGHER: Call for the orator! (Bellerose comes forward and bows.) THE BOXES: Ah! here's Bellerose! BELLEROSE (elegantly): My noble lords. . . THE PIT: No! no! Jodelet! JODELET (advancing, speaking through his nose): Calves! THE PIT: Ah! bravo! good! go on! JODELET: No bravos, Sirs! The fat tragedian whom you all love Felt. . . THE PIT: Coward! JODELET: . . .was obliged to go. THE PIT: Come back! SOME: No! OTHERS: Yes! A YOUNG MAN (to Cyrano): But pray, Sir, for what reason, say, Hate you Montfleury? CYRANO (graciously, still seated): Youthful gander, know I have two reasons--either will suffice. Primo. An actor villainous! who mouths, And heaves up like a bucket from a well The verses that should, bird-like, fly! Secundo-- That is my secret. . . THE OLD BURGHER (behind him): Shameful! You deprive us Of the 'Clorise!' I must insist. . . CYRANO (turning his chair toward the burgher, respectfully): Old mule! The verses of old Baro are not worth A doit! I'm glad to interrupt. . . THE PRECIEUSES (in the boxes): Our Baro!-- My dear! How dares he venture!. . . CYRANO (turning his chair toward the boxes gallantly): Fairest ones, Radiate, bloom, hold to our lips the cup Of dreams intoxicating, Hebe-like! Or, when death strikes, charm death with your sweet smiles; Inspire our verse, but--criticise it not! BELLEROSE: We must give back the entrance fees! CYRANO (turning his chair toward the stage): Bellerose, You make the first intelligent remark! Would I rend Thespis' sacred mantle? Nay! (He rises and throws a bag on the stage): Catch then the purse I throw, and hold your peace! THE HOUSE (dazzled): Ah! Oh! JODELET (catching the purse dexterously and weighing it): At this price, you've authority To come each night, and stop 'Clorise,' Sir! THE PIT: Ho!. . .Ho! Ho!. . . JODELET: E'en if you chase us in a pack!. . . BELLEROSE: Clear out the hall!. . . JODELET: Get you all gone at once! (The people begin to go out, while Cyrano looks on with satisfaction. But the crowd soon stop on hearing the following scene, and remain where they are. The women, who, with their mantles on, are already standing up in the boxes, stop to listen, and finally reseat themselves.) LE BRET (to Cyrano): 'Tis mad!. . . A BORE (coming up to Cyrano): The actor Montfleury! 'Tis shameful! Why, he's protected by the Duke of Candal! Have you a patron? CYRANO: No! THE BORE: No patron?. . . CYRANO: None! THE BORE: What! no great lord to shield you with his name? CYRANO (irritated): No, I have told you twice! Must I repeat? No! no protector. . . (His hand on his sword): A protectress. . .here! THE BORE: But you must leave the town? CYRANO: Well, that depends! 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 look--knew 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 small--minute! CYRANO: Minute! What now? Accuse me of a thing ridiculous! Small--my 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 cuff--is all As empty. . . (He cuffs him.) THE BORE: Aie! CYRANO: --of pride, of aspiration, Of feeling, poetry--of 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 at--that it is my wont-- An if the jester's noble--ere 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! And--had 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 forth--a half-washed-out Affront upon my cheek--a 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 moved--it'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 Burgundy--fought 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 Scullion--slow your zeal! At the envoi's end, I touch. (He declaims solemnly): Envoi. Prince, pray Heaven for your soul's weal! I move a pace--lo, such! and such! Cut over--feint! (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 (advancing to Cyrano with outstretched hand): Sir, permit; Naught could be finer--I'm a judge I think; I stamped, i' faith!--to show my admiration! (He goes away.) CYRANO (to Cuigy): Who is that gentleman? CUIGY: Why--D'Artagnan! LE BRET (to Cyrano, taking his arm): A word with you!. . . CYRANO: Wait; let the rabble go!. . . (To Bellerose): May I stay? BELLEROSE (respectfully): Without doubt! (Cries are heard outside.) JODELET (who has looked out): They hoot Montfleury! BELLEROSE (solemnly): Sic transit!. . . (To the porters): Sweep--close all, but leave the lights. We sup, but later on we must return, For a rehearsal of to-morrow's farce. (Jodelet and Bellerose go out, bowing low to Cyrano.) THE PORTER (to Cyrano): You do not dine, Sir? CYRANO: No. (The porter goes out.) LE BRET: Because? CYRANO (proudly): Because. . . (Changing his tone as the porter goes away): I have no money!. . . LE BRET (with the action of throwing a bag): How! The bag of crowns?. . . CYRANO: Paternal bounty, in a day, thou'rt sped! LE BRET: How live the next month?. . . CYRANO: I have nothing left. LE BRET: Folly! CYRANO: But what a graceful action! Think! THE BUFFET-GIRL (coughing, behind her counter): Hum! (Cyrano and Le Bret turn. She comes timidly forward): Sir, my heart mislikes to know you fast. (Showing the buffet): See, all you need. Serve yourself! CYRANO (taking off his hat): Gentle child, Although my Gascon pride would else forbid To take the least bestowal from your hands, My fear of wounding you outweighs that pride, And bids accept. . . (He goes to the buffet): A trifle!. . .These few grapes. (She offers him the whole bunch. He takes a few): Nay, but this bunch!. . . (She tries to give him wine, but he stops her): A glass of water fair!. . . And half a macaroon! (He gives back the other half.) LE BRET: What foolery! THE BUFFET-GIRL: Take something else! CYRANO: I take your hand to kiss. (He kisses her hand as though she were a princess.) THE BUFFET-GIRL: Thank you, kind Sir! (She courtesies): Good-night. (She goes out.)

Act I -- Scene 4

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scene-4

Montfleury tries to continue his speech, but is repeatedly interrupted by Cyrano. The audience jeers Cyrano, who offers to fight anyone who will come forward in Montfleury's defense, but no one comes. Montfleury leaves the stage. The theater manager points out to Cyrano that if he does not allow the play to proceed, the manager will have to refund the money to the patrons. Cyrano tosses a sack of gold to him, which is obviously more than adequate to cover the loss. Cyrano is not worried by the fact that Montfleury has a powerful patron who may be angry at Cyrano's preventing the performance. The vicomte, Valvert, says to Cyrano, "Your nose is, hmm ... is ... very ... hmm ... big." This leads to one of the memorable moments of the play in which Cyrano, with great wit and charm, suggests what many types of people might say about his nose. After this tirade by Cyrano, De Guiche tries to lead the vicomte away, but the foolish man delays long enough to sneer at Cyrano for not wearing gloves. Cyrano replies that his elegances are moral ones. Then he announces that he will fight a duel with the vicomte and that, while they are fighting, he will compose a ballade . At the end of the refrain, he says, he will end the duel with a thrust. He does exactly as he has promised. When the hall is almost empty, Le Bret asks why Cyrano has not eaten dinner. He confesses that he has no money. Le Bret asks about the sack of gold that Cyrano threw to the theater manager, and Cyrano confesses that that was his month's income -- he has nothing left. "What foolishness," says Le Bret. "But what a beautiful gesture!" Cyrano replies.

The first three scenes of the first act have accomplished, among other things, the setting of the play and the introduction of nearly all the major characters, including Cyrano. But Cyrano does not appear on the stage during these three scenes. All we know about him -- who and what he is, as well as the size of his nose -- comes from the dialogue of no less than half a dozen other characters. This preparation is extremely important, for if we were not so well prepared beforehand -- if, for instance, Cyrano were to be visible on stage at the rise of the opening curtain -- our reaction to this apparently ludicrous character would be completely different from what it is. As it is, we have heard a great deal about Cyrano in these early scenes, and Scene 3 ends with Cyrano on stage speaking to Montfleury. Scene 4 begins with Cyrano making himself visible to the audience. Notice that there is not necessarily a curtain or any break in the action between scenes. And here is an excellent example of Rostand's dramatic technique. When a major character makes an important entrance, the eyes, as well as the interest of the audience must be directed to that character. A standard device for accomplishing this is by having a minor character precede the major character on stage and announce his arrival. Rostand's device is enormously more effective. Cyrano's presence on stage is indicated only when he speaks his first line to Montfleury, and suspense is heightened as the audience tries to locate the speaker. In case some of the audience still do not know where to look for Cyrano, Rostand has Cyrano raise his arm and wave his cane. Now we know exactly where he is, and the attention of the audience is riveted to the spot. And now we are finally allowed to see the man for whose entrance we have been so well prepared. This long scene is not only exciting from both the intellectual and physical standpoints, but it serves to refine our knowledge of Cyrano's character. And it is his character and personality that make most of the events in the play seem real and logical regardless of how unlikely they might appear otherwise. In other words, given Cyrano's character, there is a "willing suspension of disbelief" on the part of the audience. Cyrano's extreme sensitivity about his nose is made clear when he challenges the vicomte to a duel and doubly insults him by besting him in the duel and composing a poem at the same time. Cyrano is highly intelligent, talented, brave, impetuous, and sensitive. He is more than that: After the duel, we learn that he has no money left. His comment that tossing the bag of gold onto the stage to reimburse the theater manager was a beautiful gesture tells us that the "beau geste" means more to him than bread. He is extremely idealistic and has a very dramatic temperament. From the discussion about the patron of Montfleury, we learn that all artists are expected to have a patron -- one who supports his protege with money and position. Cyrano has no patron. He stands alone, beholden to no man, independent, unafraid, and unprotected.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_1_chapters_5_to_7.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_3_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 1.scenes 5-7

act 1 scenes 5-7

{"name": "Act I -- Scenes 5-7", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scenes-57", "summary": "As Cyrano eats the frugal \"meal\" provided by the adoring little orange girl, Le Bret warns him that his rash actions are making powerful enemies, but Cyrano refuses to be seriously concerned. He says, \"I have decided to be admirable in everything.\" He then confesses that he is in love with his cousin Roxane, but that he is so ugly that he is afraid to try to win her hand. The only thing he fears is having his nose laughed at; for her to laugh at him would be a blow he dare not risk. In Scene 6, Roxane's duenna enters the theater and asks Cyrano to meet Roxane. Elated, he makes an appointment to meet her at Ragueneau's pastry shop the next morning at seven o'clock. Cyrano is ecstatic; he feels invincible; he feels that he needs to fight whole armies. Brissaille enters with the drunken Ligniere, saying that Ligniere, is in trouble. Ligniere explains that his poem has gotten him into difficulties; Cyrano orders his entourage to follow and watch, but not to interfere. He will defend Ligniere himself because he once saw his friend perform a lovely romantic gesture. Cyrano leaves the stage twenty paces ahead of the rest -- officers, comedians, actresses, and musicians -- pausing only to explain that it was necessary to send a hundred men to kill Ligniere because it is well known that he is a friend of Cyrano's.", "analysis": "In these three scenes, Rostand finishes giving the audience the problem on which the plot turns. We already know that Christian is in love with Roxane and that he is afraid that he is not sufficiently eloquent to win her hand. Now we have the knowledge that the fabulous Cyrano also loves her -- and he certainly has the language at his command to win a woman of her type -- but he fears that she would not love him because of his physical oddity: his enormous nose. The act ends on a very hopeful note, as far as Cyrano's love for Roxane is concerned. We see how a little encouragement in this direction increases his already monumental dash and daring. He gladly goes to fight a hundred men. The fact that Ligniere is in trouble was carefully prepared for earlier, so this is no surprise. And we know that Cyrano is just the sort who would gaily and pompously lead his admirers to watch him fight a hundred men. Although Cyrano does not appear until Act 1, Scene 3 -- and actually only his voice is heard in Scene 3 -- he has been described, and we are thoroughly prepared for him. Also, by the time Cyrano makes a physical appearance in Scene 4, Rostand has so completely established the character that we are more delighted than surprised by his extravagances. Rostand has, in addition, established so much sympathy for his main character that we hope that Roxane is going to confess her love for him and not merely warn him of some plot or give him some other cousinly message. This is one of Rostand's most artful strokes, and one of his secrets of making fantastic, romantic nonsense believable."}

Cyrano, Le Bret. CYRANO (to Le Bret): Now talk--I listen. (He stands at the buffet, and placing before him first the macaroon): Dinner!. . . (then the grapes): Dessert!. . . (then the glass of water): Wine!. . . (he seats himself): So! And now to table! Ah! I was hungry, friend, nay, ravenous! (eating): You said--? LE BRET: These fops, would-be belligerent, Will, if you heed them only, turn your head!. . . Ask people of good sense if you would know The effect of your fine insolence-- CYRANO (finishing his macaroon): Enormous! LE BRET: The Cardinal. . . CYRANO (radiant): The Cardinal--was there? LE BRET: Must have thought it. . . CYRANO: Original, i' faith! LE BRET: But. . . CYRANO: He's an author. 'Twill not fail to please him That I should mar a brother-author's play. LE BRET: You make too many enemies by far! CYRANO (eating his grapes): How many think you I have made to-night? LE BRET: Forty, no less, not counting ladies. CYRANO: Count! LE BRET: Montfleury first, the bourgeois, then De Guiche, The Viscount, Baro, the Academy. . . CYRANO: Enough! I am o'erjoyed! LE BRET: But these strange ways, Where will they lead you, at the end? Explain Your system--come! CYRANO: I in a labyrinth Was lost--too many different paths to choose; I took. . . LE BRET: Which? CYRANO: Oh! by far the simplest path. . . Decided to be admirable in all! LE BRET (shrugging his shoulders): So be it! But the motive of your hate To Montfleury--come, tell me! CYRANO (rising): This Silenus, Big-bellied, coarse, still deems himself a peril-- A danger to the love of lovely ladies, And, while he sputters out his actor's part, Makes sheep's eyes at their boxes--goggling frog! I hate him since the evening he presumed To raise his eyes to hers. . .Meseemed I saw A slug crawl slavering o'er a flower's petals! LE BRET (stupefied): How now? What? Can it be. . .? CYRANO (laughing bitterly): That I should love?. . . (Changing his tone, gravely): I love. LE BRET: And may I know?. . .You never said. . . CYRANO: Come now, bethink you!. . .The fond hope to be Beloved, e'en by some poor graceless lady, Is, by this nose of mine for aye bereft me; --This lengthy nose which, go where'er I will, Pokes yet a quarter-mile ahead of me; But I may love--and who? 'Tis Fate's decree I love the fairest--how were't otherwise? LE BRET: The fairest?. . . CYRANO: Ay, the fairest of the world, Most brilliant--most refined--most golden-haired! LE BRET: Who is this lady? CYRANO: She's a danger mortal, All unsuspicious--full of charms unconscious, Like a sweet perfumed rose--a snare of nature, Within whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush! He who has seen her smile has known perfection, --Instilling into trifles grace's essence, Divinity in every careless gesture; Not Venus' self can mount her conch blown sea-ward, As she can step into her chaise a porteurs, Nor Dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered, Light as my Lady o'er the stones of Paris!. . . LE BRET: Sapristi! all is clear! CYRANO: As spiderwebs! LE BRET: Your cousin, Madeleine Robin? CYRANO: Roxane! LE BRET: Well, but so much the better! Tell her so! She saw your triumph here this very night! CYRANO: Look well at me--then tell me, with what hope This vile protuberance can inspire my heart! I do not lull me with illusions--yet At times I'm weak: in evening hours dim I enter some fair pleasance, perfumed sweet; With my poor ugly devil of a nose I scent spring's essence--in the silver rays I see some knight--a lady on his arm, And think 'To saunter thus 'neath the moonshine, I were fain to have my lady, too, beside!' Thought soars to ecstasy. . .O sudden fall! --The shadow of my profile on the wall! LE BRET (tenderly): My friend!. . . CYRANO: My friend, at times 'tis hard, 'tis bitter, To feel my loneliness--my own ill-favor. . . LE BRET (taking his hand): You weep? CYRANO: No, never! Think, how vilely suited Adown this nose a tear its passage tracing! I never will, while of myself I'm master, let the divinity of tears--their beauty Be wedded to such common ugly grossness. Nothing more solemn than a tear--sublimer; And I would not by weeping turn to laughter The grave emotion that a tear engenders! LE BRET: Never be sad! What's love?--a chance of Fortune! CYRANO (shaking his head): Look I a Caesar to woo Cleopatra? A Tito to aspire to Berenice? LE BRET: Your courage and your wit!--The little maid Who offered you refreshment even now, Her eyes did not abhor you--you saw well! CYRANO (impressed): True! LE BRET: Well, how then?. . .I saw Roxane herself Was death-pale as she watched the duel. CYRANO: Pale? LE BRET: Her heart, her fancy, are already caught! Put it to th' touch! CYRANO: That she may mock my face? That is the one thing on this earth I fear! THE PORTER (introducing some one to Cyrano): Sir, some one asks for you. . . CYRANO (seeing the duenna): God! her duenna! Cyrano, Le Bret, the duenna. THE DUENNA (with a low bow): I was bid ask you where a certain lady Could see her valiant cousin--but in secret. CYRANO (overwhelmed): See me? THE DUENNA (courtesying): Ay, Sir! She has somewhat to tell. CYRANO: Somewhat?. . . THE DUENNA (still courtesying): Ay, private matters! CYRANO (staggering): Ah, my God! THE DUENNA: To-morrow, at the early blush of dawn, We go to hear mass at St. Roch. CYRANO (leaning against Le Bret): My God! THE DUENNA: After--what place for a few minutes' speech? CYRANO (confused): Where? Ah!. . .but. . .Ah, my God!. . . THE DUENNA: Say! CYRANO: I reflect!. . . THE DUENNA: Where? CYRANO: At--the pastry-house of Ragueneau. THE DUENNA: Where lodges he? CYRANO: The Rue--God!--St. Honore! THE DUENNA (going): Good. Be you there. At seven. CYRANO: Without fail. (The duenna goes out.) Cyrano, Le Bret. Then actors, actresses, Cuigy, Brissaille, Ligniere, the porter, the violinists. CYRANO (falling into Le Bret's arms): A rendezvous. . .from her!. . . LE BRET: You're sad no more! CYRANO: Ah! Let the world go burn! She knows I live! LE BRET: Now you'll be calm, I hope? CYRANO (beside himself for joy): Calm? I now calm? I'll be frenetic, frantic,--raving mad! Oh, for an army to attack!--a host! I've ten hearts in my breast; a score of arms; No dwarfs to cleave in twain!. . . (Wildly): No! Giants now! (For a few moments the shadows of the actors have been moving on the stage, whispers are heard--the rehearsal is beginning. The violinists are in their places.) A VOICE FROM THE STAGE: Hollo there! Silence! We rehearse! CYRANO (laughing): We go! (He moves away. By the big door enter Cuigy, Brissaille, and some officers, holding up Ligniere, who is drunk.) CUIGY: Cyrano! CYRANO: Well, what now? CUIGY: A lusty thrush They're bringing you! CYRANO (recognizing him): Ligniere!. . .What has chanced? CUIGY: He seeks you! BRISSAILLE: He dare not go home! CYRANO: Why not? LIGNIERE (in a husky voice, showing him a crumpled letter): This letter warns me. . .that a hundred men. . . Revenge that threatens me. . .that song, you know-- At the Porte de Nesle. To get to my own house I must pass there. . .I dare not!. . .Give me leave To sleep to-night beneath your roof! Allow. . . CYRANO: A hundred men? You'll sleep in your own bed! LIGNIERE (frightened): But-- CYRANO (in a terrible voice, showing him the lighted lantern held by the porter, who is listening curiously): Take the lantern. (Ligniere seizes it): Let us start! I swear That I will make your bed to-night myself! (To the officers): Follow; some stay behind, as witnesses! CUIGY: A hundred!. . . CYRANO: Less, to-night--would be too few! (The actors and actresses, in their costumes, have come down from the stage, and are listening.) LE BRET: But why embroil yourself? CYRANO: Le Bret who scolds! LE BRET: That worthless drunkard!-- CYRANO (slapping Ligniere on the shoulder): Wherefore? For this cause;-- This wine-barrel, this cask of Burgundy, Did, on a day, an action full of grace; As he was leaving church, he saw his love Take holy water--he, who is affeared At water's taste, ran quickly to the stoup, And drank it all, to the last drop!. . . AN ACTRESS: Indeed, that was a graceful thing! CYRANO: Ay, was it not? THE ACTRESS (to the others): But why a hundred men 'gainst one poor rhymer? CYRANO: March! (To the officers): Gentlemen, when you shall see me charge, Bear me no succor, none, whate'er the odds! ANOTHER ACTRESS (jumping from the stage): Oh! I shall come and see! CYRANO: Come, then! ANOTHER (jumping down--to an old actor): And you?. . . CYRANO: Come all--the Doctor, Isabel, Leander, Come, for you shall add, in a motley swarm, The farce Italian to this Spanish drama! ALL THE WOMEN (dancing for joy): Bravo!--a mantle, quick!--my hood! JODELET: Come on! CYRANO: Play us a march, gentlemen of the band! (The violinists join the procession, which is forming. They take the footlights, and divide them for torches): Brave officers! next, women in costume, And, twenty paces on-- (He takes his place): I all alone, Beneath the plume that Glory lends, herself, To deck my beaver--proud as Scipio!. . . --You hear me?--I forbid you succor me!-- One, two three! Porter, open wide the doors! (The porter opens the doors; a view of old Paris in the moonlight is seen): Ah!. . .Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous: The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs; A lovely frame for this wild battle-scene; Beneath the vapor's floating scarves, the Seine Trembles, mysterious, like a magic mirror, And, shortly, you shall see what you shall see! ALL: To the Porte de Nesle! CYRANO (standing on the threshold): Ay, to the Porte de Nesle! (Turning to the actress): Did you not ask, young lady, for what cause Against this rhymer fivescore men were sent? (He draws his sword; then, calmly): 'Twas that they knew him for a friend of mine! (He goes out. Ligniere staggers first after him, then the actresses on the officers' arms--the actors. The procession starts to the sound of the violins and in the faint light of the candles.) Curtain.

Act I -- Scenes 5-7

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-i-8212-scenes-57

As Cyrano eats the frugal "meal" provided by the adoring little orange girl, Le Bret warns him that his rash actions are making powerful enemies, but Cyrano refuses to be seriously concerned. He says, "I have decided to be admirable in everything." He then confesses that he is in love with his cousin Roxane, but that he is so ugly that he is afraid to try to win her hand. The only thing he fears is having his nose laughed at; for her to laugh at him would be a blow he dare not risk. In Scene 6, Roxane's duenna enters the theater and asks Cyrano to meet Roxane. Elated, he makes an appointment to meet her at Ragueneau's pastry shop the next morning at seven o'clock. Cyrano is ecstatic; he feels invincible; he feels that he needs to fight whole armies. Brissaille enters with the drunken Ligniere, saying that Ligniere, is in trouble. Ligniere explains that his poem has gotten him into difficulties; Cyrano orders his entourage to follow and watch, but not to interfere. He will defend Ligniere himself because he once saw his friend perform a lovely romantic gesture. Cyrano leaves the stage twenty paces ahead of the rest -- officers, comedians, actresses, and musicians -- pausing only to explain that it was necessary to send a hundred men to kill Ligniere because it is well known that he is a friend of Cyrano's.

In these three scenes, Rostand finishes giving the audience the problem on which the plot turns. We already know that Christian is in love with Roxane and that he is afraid that he is not sufficiently eloquent to win her hand. Now we have the knowledge that the fabulous Cyrano also loves her -- and he certainly has the language at his command to win a woman of her type -- but he fears that she would not love him because of his physical oddity: his enormous nose. The act ends on a very hopeful note, as far as Cyrano's love for Roxane is concerned. We see how a little encouragement in this direction increases his already monumental dash and daring. He gladly goes to fight a hundred men. The fact that Ligniere is in trouble was carefully prepared for earlier, so this is no surprise. And we know that Cyrano is just the sort who would gaily and pompously lead his admirers to watch him fight a hundred men. Although Cyrano does not appear until Act 1, Scene 3 -- and actually only his voice is heard in Scene 3 -- he has been described, and we are thoroughly prepared for him. Also, by the time Cyrano makes a physical appearance in Scene 4, Rostand has so completely established the character that we are more delighted than surprised by his extravagances. Rostand has, in addition, established so much sympathy for his main character that we hope that Roxane is going to confess her love for him and not merely warn him of some plot or give him some other cousinly message. This is one of Rostand's most artful strokes, and one of his secrets of making fantastic, romantic nonsense believable.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_2_chapters_1_to_2.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 2.scenes 1-2

act 2 scenes 1-2

{"name": "Act II -- Scenes 1-2", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-12", "summary": "Act II takes place in the pastry shop owned by Ragueneau, who was introduced in Act I. Ragueneau's wife, Lise, has more business sense and less love of poetry than her husband-she has made sacks out of the poems his friends have left in payment for food. Two children make a small purchase, and Lise wraps their pastries in the pages of poetry. When his wife is not looking, Ragueneau calls the children back and trades them three more pastries for the poems.", "analysis": "These short scenes serve to establish the personalities of Ragueneau and his wife, Lise, as well as the fact that there is a conflict between them. Ragueneau seems to be almost a caricature of Cyrano -- a man who loves the gallant gesture, the bravado of the soldier, and the sensitivity of the poet. Ragueneau reappears throughout the play as a friend and admirer of Cyrano, and since Act III will open with the tale of Ragueneau's own drama, Rostand very economically prepares us for that in these scenes. Ragueneau is a \"utility\" character in the play. In Act I, he gives the audience various bits of important information; in Act II, he provides an appropriate setting for the occurrences that take place in that act; in Act IV, he serves in the capacity of coachman; and in Act V, he is the necessary old friend of Cyrano. How much more interesting it is for these to be combined into one character with a personality and history instead of being portrayed by a series of faceless actors. Moreover, the preparation for Ragueneau's tale gives the audience an opportunity to become accustomed to, and to enjoy, the setting of the little pastry shop -- which, incidentally, Rostand envisioned as a very complicated and interesting set. If he had had any really important action take place at the very beginning of the act, it might well have failed to make the proper impression upon an audience absorbed in the scenery."}

Ragueneau, pastry-cooks, then Lise. Ragueneau is writing, with an inspired air, at a small table, and counting on his fingers. FIRST PASTRY-COOK (bringing in an elaborate fancy dish): Fruits in nougat! SECOND PASTRY-COOK (bringing another dish): Custard! THIRD PASTRY-COOK (bringing a roast, decorated with feathers): Peacock! FOURTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a batch of cakes on a slab): Rissoles! FIFTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a sort of pie-dish): Beef jelly! RAGUENEAU (ceasing to write, and raising his head): Aurora's silver rays begin to glint e'en now on the copper pans, and thou, O Ragueneau! must perforce stifle in thy breast the God of Song! Anon shall come the hour of the lute!--now 'tis the hour of the oven! (He rises. To a cook): You, make that sauce longer, 'tis too short! THE COOK: How much too short? RAGUENEAU: Three feet. (He passes on farther.) THE COOK: What means he? FIRST PASTRY-COOK (showing a dish to Ragueneau): The tart! SECOND PASTRY-COOK: The pie! RAGUENEAU (before the fire): My muse, retire, lest thy bright eyes be reddened by the fagot's blaze! (To a cook, showing him some loaves): You have put the cleft o' th' loaves in the wrong place; know you not that the coesura should be between the hemistiches? (To another, showing him an unfinished pasty): To this palace of paste you must add the roof. . . (To a young apprentice, who, seated on the ground, is spitting the fowls): And you, as you put on your lengthy spit the modest fowl and the superb turkey, my son, alternate them, as the old Malherbe loved well to alternate his long lines of verse with the short ones; thus shall your roasts, in strophes, turn before the flame! ANOTHER APPRENTICE (also coming up with a tray covered by a napkin): Master, I bethought me erewhile of your tastes, and made this, which will please you, I hope. (He uncovers the tray, and shows a large lyre made of pastry.) RAGUENEAU (enchanted): A lyre! THE APPRENTICE: 'Tis of brioche pastry. RAGUENEAU (touched): With conserved fruits. THE APPRENTICE: The strings, see, are of sugar. RAGUENEAU (giving him a coin): Go, drink my health! (Seeing Lise enter): Hush! My wife. Bustle, pass on, and hide that money! (To Lise, showing her the lyre, with a conscious look): Is it not beautiful? LISE: 'Tis passing silly! (She puts a pile of papers on the counter.) 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? The same. Two children, who have just trotted into the shop. RAGUENEAU: What would you, little ones? 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.)

Act II -- Scenes 1-2

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-12

Act II takes place in the pastry shop owned by Ragueneau, who was introduced in Act I. Ragueneau's wife, Lise, has more business sense and less love of poetry than her husband-she has made sacks out of the poems his friends have left in payment for food. Two children make a small purchase, and Lise wraps their pastries in the pages of poetry. When his wife is not looking, Ragueneau calls the children back and trades them three more pastries for the poems.

These short scenes serve to establish the personalities of Ragueneau and his wife, Lise, as well as the fact that there is a conflict between them. Ragueneau seems to be almost a caricature of Cyrano -- a man who loves the gallant gesture, the bravado of the soldier, and the sensitivity of the poet. Ragueneau reappears throughout the play as a friend and admirer of Cyrano, and since Act III will open with the tale of Ragueneau's own drama, Rostand very economically prepares us for that in these scenes. Ragueneau is a "utility" character in the play. In Act I, he gives the audience various bits of important information; in Act II, he provides an appropriate setting for the occurrences that take place in that act; in Act IV, he serves in the capacity of coachman; and in Act V, he is the necessary old friend of Cyrano. How much more interesting it is for these to be combined into one character with a personality and history instead of being portrayed by a series of faceless actors. Moreover, the preparation for Ragueneau's tale gives the audience an opportunity to become accustomed to, and to enjoy, the setting of the little pastry shop -- which, incidentally, Rostand envisioned as a very complicated and interesting set. If he had had any really important action take place at the very beginning of the act, it might well have failed to make the proper impression upon an audience absorbed in the scenery.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_2_chapters_3_to_4.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 2.scenes 3-4

act 2 scenes 3-4

{"name": "Act II -- Scenes 3-4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-34", "summary": "Cyrano enters and Ragueneau congratulates him on the duel in the theater the night before. But Cyrano is not interested in anything except his meeting with Roxane. He asks Ragueneau to clear the place out when he gives the signal, and Ragueneau agrees. A musketeer enters who will be mentioned again later. The poets come in, for their \"first meal,\" as Lise says. They are all excited about the feat of the evening before -- one man against a hundred, and no one knows who the brave one was. Cyrano is writing a love letter to Roxane and is not at all interested in the conversation around him. He does not sign the letter, because he plans to give it to Roxane himself. The poets flatter Ragueneau by asking for his latest poetic effort -- a recipe in rhyme. Cyrano constantly asks the time, and the hour finally arrives for his meeting with Roxane. The poets are rushed to another room so that Cyrano can see her alone.", "analysis": "These scenes contain several elements of interest: Lise's sarcasm about the poets, the comedy of Ragueneau's recipe in verse, and the fact that the poets are buzzing with talk of Cyrano's various exploits of the previous evening. Cyrano himself, however, is the most interesting element. He is concerned only with the letter he is writing to Roxane -- the one he has carried in his heart for years -- and in the fact that he will soon see her and at last declare his love for her. He cares about nothing else. The brave hero is as excited as a schoolboy. In the first act, our attention has been directed to Cyrano's bravado and his true courage, but now we are seeing a completely different facet of his personality. He is so nervous about his forthcoming confrontation with Roxane that he simply ignores the opportunity to submit himself to the adulation of the poets."}

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.) 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!. . . RAGUENEAU (giving him the one from behind his ear): Here--a 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 wife--a terrible warrior--at 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): Ay--a 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.) Ragueneau, Lise, the musketeer. Cyrano at the little table writing. The poets, dressed in black, their stockings ungartered, and covered with mud. LISE (entering, to Ragueneau): Here they come, your mud-bespattered friends! FIRST POET (entering, to Ragueneau): Brother in art!. . . SECOND POET (to Ragueneau, shaking his hands): Dear brother! THIRD POET: High soaring eagle among pastry-cooks! (He sniffs): Marry! it smells good here in your eyrie! FOURTH POET: 'Tis at Phoebus' own rays that thy roasts turn! FIFTH POET: Apollo among master-cooks-- RAGUENEAU (whom they surround and embrace): Ah! how quick a man feels at his ease with them!. . . FIRST POET: We were stayed by the mob; they are crowded all round the Porte de Nesle!. . . SECOND POET: Eight bleeding brigand carcasses strew the pavements there--all slit open with sword-gashes! CYRANO (raising his head a minute): Eight?. . .hold, methought seven. (He goes on writing.) RAGUENEAU (to Cyrano): Know you who might be the hero of the fray? CYRANO (carelessly): Not I. LISE (to the musketeer): And you? Know you? THE MUSKETEER (twirling his mustache): Maybe! CYRANO (writing a little way off:--he is heard murmuring a word from time to time): 'I love thee!' FIRST POET: 'Twas one man, say they all, ay, swear to it, one man who, single-handed, put the whole band to the rout! SECOND POET: 'Twas a strange sight!--pikes and cudgels strewed thick upon the ground. CYRANO (writing): . . .'Thine eyes'. . . THIRD POET: And they were picking up hats all the way to the Quai d'Orfevres! FIRST POET: Sapristi! but he must have been a ferocious. . . CYRANO (same play): . . .'Thy lips'. . . FIRST POET: 'Twas a parlous fearsome giant that was the author of such exploits! CYRANO (same play): . . .'And when I see thee come, I faint for fear.' SECOND POET (filching a cake): What hast rhymed of late, Ragueneau? CYRANO (same play): . . .'Who worships thee'. . . (He stops, just as he is about to sign, and gets up, slipping the letter into his doublet): No need I sign, since I give it her myself. RAGUENEAU (to second poet): I have put a recipe into verse. THIRD POET (seating himself by a plate of cream-puffs): Go to! Let us hear these verses! FOURTH POET (looking at a cake which he has taken): Its cap is all a' one side! (He makes one bite of the top.) FIRST POET: See how this gingerbread woos the famished rhymer with its almond eyes, and its eyebrows of angelica! (He takes it.) SECOND POET: We listen. THIRD POET (squeezing a cream-puff gently): How it laughs! Till its very cream runs over! SECOND POET (biting a bit off the great lyre of pastry): This is the first time in my life that ever I drew any means of nourishing me from the lyre! RAGUENEAU (who has put himself ready for reciting, cleared his throat, settled his cap, struck an attitude): A recipe in verse!. . . 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 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 so--mark me, Dame Lise--I 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 cakes?. . . SECOND POET: Never! Let's take them with us! (They all follow Ragueneau in procession, after sweeping all the cakes off the trays.)

Act II -- Scenes 3-4

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-34

Cyrano enters and Ragueneau congratulates him on the duel in the theater the night before. But Cyrano is not interested in anything except his meeting with Roxane. He asks Ragueneau to clear the place out when he gives the signal, and Ragueneau agrees. A musketeer enters who will be mentioned again later. The poets come in, for their "first meal," as Lise says. They are all excited about the feat of the evening before -- one man against a hundred, and no one knows who the brave one was. Cyrano is writing a love letter to Roxane and is not at all interested in the conversation around him. He does not sign the letter, because he plans to give it to Roxane himself. The poets flatter Ragueneau by asking for his latest poetic effort -- a recipe in rhyme. Cyrano constantly asks the time, and the hour finally arrives for his meeting with Roxane. The poets are rushed to another room so that Cyrano can see her alone.

These scenes contain several elements of interest: Lise's sarcasm about the poets, the comedy of Ragueneau's recipe in verse, and the fact that the poets are buzzing with talk of Cyrano's various exploits of the previous evening. Cyrano himself, however, is the most interesting element. He is concerned only with the letter he is writing to Roxane -- the one he has carried in his heart for years -- and in the fact that he will soon see her and at last declare his love for her. He cares about nothing else. The brave hero is as excited as a schoolboy. In the first act, our attention has been directed to Cyrano's bravado and his true courage, but now we are seeing a completely different facet of his personality. He is so nervous about his forthcoming confrontation with Roxane that he simply ignores the opportunity to submit himself to the adulation of the poets.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_2_chapters_5_to_6.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_6_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 2.scenes 5-6

act 2 scenes 5-6

{"name": "Act II -- Scenes 5-6", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-56", "summary": "Cyrano fills the \"poetry-sacks\" with pastry for Roxane's duenna, who goes into the street to eat, then he and Roxane, who are cousins, reminisce about their childhood games. She tenderly bandages his injured hand with her handkerchief while she tells him shyly that she is in love with someone in his regiment. Cyrano's hopes rise. Then she adds that this man is young, fearless -- and handsome. Cyrano asks if she has spoken with him. \"Only with our eyes,\" she replies. But Cyrano asks, \"What if he is a savage uncultured, unlettered?\" Roxane declares that no one with such beautiful hair could fail to be eloquent. She has come to Cyrano because Christian, her love, has joined Cyrano's regiment. She knows that it is the custom to provoke an outsider to a duel, since the regiment is composed entirely of men from Cascony. She wants Cyrano to protect Christian, and he promises to do so.", "analysis": "In the beginning of this scene, Rostand very skillfully builds up the hopes of Cyrano and the audience. Roxane commences quite naturally with childhood memories and, until she pronounces the word, \"handsome,\" there is really no reason to believe that she is not going to confess her love for Cyrano. This, of course, makes Cyrano's disappointment more acute. Promising to protect Christian is a bitter pill for him to swallow. This promise, however, is preparation for what is to follow. Cyrano never seems to feel that Roxane should be any different than she is -- only that his nose is at fault. Because he and Roxane have known each other so long, Cyrano may see qualities in his lady love that are not readily apparent to others. it does not seem possible that one of his intelligence and sensitivity should be in love with a woman totally committed to the shallowness and pretentiousness of the precieuse philosophy."}

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.) 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 favor--but 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! Then--aping 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 it--playing at the Porte de Nesle. 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: And tell me, while I wipe away the blood, How many 'gainst you? CYRANO: Oh! A hundred--near. ROXANE: Come, tell me! CYRANO: No, let be. But you, come tell The thing, just now, you dared not. . . ROXANE (keeping his hand): Now, I dare! The scent of those old days emboldens me! Yes, now I dare. Listen. I am in love. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: But with one who knows not. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: Not yet. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: But who, if he knows not, soon shall learn. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: A poor youth who all this time has loved Timidly, from afar, and dares not speak. . . CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: Leave your hand; why, it is fever-hot!-- But I have seen love trembling on his lips. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE (bandaging his hand with her handkerchief): And to think of it! that he by chance-- Yes, cousin, he is of your regiment! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE (laughing): --Is cadet in your own company! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: On his brow he bears the genius-stamp; He is proud, noble, young, intrepid, fair. . . CYRANO (rising suddenly, very pale): Fair! ROXANE: Why, what ails you? CYRANO: Nothing; 'tis. . . (He shows his hand, smiling): This scratch! ROXANE: I love him; all is said. But you must know I have only seen him at the Comedy. . . CYRANO: How? You have never spoken? ROXANE: Eyes can speak. CYRANO: How know you then that he. . .? ROXANE: Oh! people talk 'Neath the limes in the Place Royale. . . Gossip's chat Has let me know. . . CYRANO: He is cadet? ROXANE: In the Guards. CYRANO: His name? ROXANE: Baron Christian de Neuvillette. CYRANO: How now?. . .He is not of the Guards! ROXANE: To-day He is not join your ranks, under Captain Carbon de Castel-Jaloux. CYRANO: Ah, how quick, How quick the heart has flown!. . .But, my poor child. . . THE DUENNA (opening the door): The cakes are eaten, Monsieur Bergerac! CYRANO: Then read the verses printed on the bags! (She goes out): . . .My poor child, you who love but flowing words, Bright wit,--what if he be a lout unskilled? ROXANE: No, his bright locks, like D'Urfe's heroes. . . CYRANO: Ah! A well-curled pate, and witless tongue, perchance! ROXANE: Ah no! I guess--I feel--his words are fair! CYRANO: All words are fair that lurk 'neath fair mustache! --Suppose he were a fool!. . . ROXANE (stamping her foot): Then bury me! CYRANO (after a pause): Was it to tell me this you brought me here? I fail to see what use this serves, Madame. ROXANE: Nay, but I felt a terror, here, in the heart, On learning yesterday you were Gascons All of your company. . . CYRANO: And we provoke All beardless sprigs that favor dares admit 'Midst us pure Gascons--(pure! Heaven save the mark! They told you that as well? ROXANE: Ah! Think how I Trembled for him! CYRANO (between his teeth): Not causelessly! ROXANE: But when Last night I saw you,--brave, invincible,-- Punish that dandy, fearless hold your own Against those brutes, I thought--I thought, if he Whom all fear, all--if he would only. . . CYRANO: Good. I will befriend your little Baron. ROXANE: Ah! You'll promise me you will do this for me? I've always held you as a tender friend. CYRANO: Ay, ay. ROXANE: Then you will be his friend? CYRANO: I swear! ROXANE: And he shall fight no duels, promise! CYRANO: None. ROXANE: You are kind, cousin! Now I must be gone. (She puts on her mask and veil quickly; then, absently): You have not told me of your last night's fray. Ah, but it must have been a hero-fight!. . . --Bid him to write. (She sends him a kiss with her fingers): How good you are! CYRANO: Ay! Ay! ROXANE: A hundred men against you? Now, farewell.-- We are great friends? CYRANO: Ay, ay! ROXANE: Oh, bid him write! You'll tell me all one day--A hundred men!-- Ah, brave!. . .How brave! CYRANO (bowing to her): I have fought better since. (She goes out. Cyrano stands motionless, with eyes on the ground. A silence. The door (right) opens. Ragueneau looks in.)

Act II -- Scenes 5-6

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-56

Cyrano fills the "poetry-sacks" with pastry for Roxane's duenna, who goes into the street to eat, then he and Roxane, who are cousins, reminisce about their childhood games. She tenderly bandages his injured hand with her handkerchief while she tells him shyly that she is in love with someone in his regiment. Cyrano's hopes rise. Then she adds that this man is young, fearless -- and handsome. Cyrano asks if she has spoken with him. "Only with our eyes," she replies. But Cyrano asks, "What if he is a savage uncultured, unlettered?" Roxane declares that no one with such beautiful hair could fail to be eloquent. She has come to Cyrano because Christian, her love, has joined Cyrano's regiment. She knows that it is the custom to provoke an outsider to a duel, since the regiment is composed entirely of men from Cascony. She wants Cyrano to protect Christian, and he promises to do so.

In the beginning of this scene, Rostand very skillfully builds up the hopes of Cyrano and the audience. Roxane commences quite naturally with childhood memories and, until she pronounces the word, "handsome," there is really no reason to believe that she is not going to confess her love for Cyrano. This, of course, makes Cyrano's disappointment more acute. Promising to protect Christian is a bitter pill for him to swallow. This promise, however, is preparation for what is to follow. Cyrano never seems to feel that Roxane should be any different than she is -- only that his nose is at fault. Because he and Roxane have known each other so long, Cyrano may see qualities in his lady love that are not readily apparent to others. it does not seem possible that one of his intelligence and sensitivity should be in love with a woman totally committed to the shallowness and pretentiousness of the precieuse philosophy.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_2_chapters_7_to_8.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_7_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 2.scenes 7-8

act 2 scenes 7-8

{"name": "Act II -- Scenes 7-8", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-78", "summary": "The Gascony Guards enter, proud of Cyrano. There is also a poet who wants to immortalize the exploit, and a newspaper editor who wants to interview Cyrano. The little pastry shop is suddenly full and noisy. Cyrano, of course, cares nothing for poets and reporters. When Le Bret asks about his interview with Roxane, Cyrano simply tells him to be quiet. De Guiche, Richelieu's powerful nephew who wants Roxane for his mistress, offers the services of himself and his uncle. Cyrano refuses, though he has written a play that he would like to see produced. As De Guiche leaves, he asks Cyrano if he knows of Don Quixote. Cyrano acknowledges that he recognizes himself. De Guiche tells him that the arm of the windmill could cause his downfall, but Cyrano refuses to be intimidated. Le Bret chides Cyrano for throwing away such a brilliant opportunity. Cyrano describes the life of a protege in disparaging terms. He wants to be free, to sing, to dream. He still refuses to discuss Roxane.", "analysis": "Scene 7 gets the cadets on stage and shows their admiration of Cyrano. Cyrano, in refusing De Guiche's offer so cavalierly, is in a sense throwing away another bag of gold. This, however, is more than an extravagant gesture; it is also a dangerous one because De Guiche is a powerful man who does not like to be crossed. Cyrano's impassioned defense to Le Bret of intellectual freedom is a beautiful speech, altogether in character, and as impractical as Ragueneau's attitude toward the poets. One might say, however, that it is just such impractical attitudes as this one in the play that caused Cyrano to be continuously popular through the years. It is these ideas that have caused men to rebel, even up to our present day."}

Cyrano, Ragueneau, poets, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, the cadets, a crowd, then De Guiche. RAGUENEAU: Can we come in? CYRANO (without stirring): Yes. . . (Ragueneau signs to his friends, and they come in. At the same time, by door at back, enters Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, in Captain's uniform. He makes gestures of surprise on seeing Cyrano.) CARBON: Here he is! CYRANO (raising his head): Captain!. . . CARBON (delightedly): Our hero! We heard all! Thirty or more Of my cadets are there!. . . CYRANO (shrinking back): But. . . CARBON (trying to draw him away): Come with me! They will not rest until they see you! CYRANO: No! CARBON: They're drinking opposite, at The Bear's Head. CYRANO: I. . . CARBON (going to the door and calling across the street in a voice of thunder): He won't come! The hero's in the sulks! A VOICE (outside): Ah! Sandious! (Tumult outside. Noise of boots and swords is heard approaching.) CARBON (rubbing his hands): They are running 'cross the street! CADETS (entering): Mille dious! Capdedious! Pocapdedious! RAGUENEAU (drawing back startled): Gentlemen, are you all from Gascony? THE CADETS: All! A CADET (to Cyrano): Bravo! CYRANO: Baron! ANOTHER (shaking his hands): Vivat! CYRANO: Baron! THIRD CADET: Come! I must embrace you! CYRANO: Baron! SEVERAL GASCONS: We'll embrace Him, all in turn! CYRANO (not knowing whom to reply to): Baron!. . .Baron!. . .I beg. . . RAGUENEAU: Are you all Barons, Sirs? THE CADETS: Ay, every one! RAGUENEAU: Is it true?. . . FIRST CADET: Ay--why, you could build a tower With nothing but our coronets, my friend! LE BRET (entering, and running up to Cyrano): They're looking for you! Here's a crazy mob Led by the men who followed you last night. . . CYRANO (alarmed): What! Have you told them where to find me? LE BRET (rubbing his hands): Yes! A BURGHER (entering, followed by a group of men): Sir, all the Marais is a-coming here! (Outside the street has filled with people. Chaises a porteurs and carriages have drawn up.) LE BRET (in a low voice, smiling, to Cyrano): And Roxane? CYRANO (quickly): Hush! THE CROWD (calling outside): Cyrano!. . . (A crowd rush into the shop, pushing one another. Acclamations.) RAGUENEAU (standing on a table): Lo! my shop Invaded! They break all! Magnificent! PEOPLE (crowding round Cyrano): My friend!. . .my friend. . . Cyrano: Meseems that yesterday I had not all these friends! LE BRET (delighted): Success! A YOUNG MARQUIS (hurrying up with his hands held out): My friend, Didst thou but know. . . CYRANO: Thou!. . .Marry!. . .thou!. . .Pray when Did we herd swine together, you and I! ANOTHER: I would present you, Sir, to some fair dames Who in my carriage yonder. . . CYRANO (coldly): Ah! and who Will first present you, Sir, to me? LE BRET (astonished): What's wrong? CYRANO: Hush! A MAN OF LETTERS (with writing-board): A few details?. . . CYRANO: No. LE BRET (nudging his elbow): 'Tis Theophrast, Renaudet,. . .of the 'Court Gazette'! CYRANO: Who cares? LE BRET: This paper--but it is of great importance!. . . They say it will be an immense success! A POET (advancing): Sir. . . CYRANO: What, another! THE POET: . . .Pray permit I make A pentacrostic on your name. . . SOME ONE (also advancing): Pray, Sir. . . CYRANO: Enough! Enough! (A movement in the crowd. De Guiche appears, escorted by officers. Cuigy, Brissaille, the officers who went with Cyrano the night before. Cuigy comes rapidly up to Cyrano.) CUIGY (to Cyrano): Here is Monsieur de Guiche? (A murmur--every one makes way): He comes from the Marshal of Gassion! DE GUICHE (bowing to Cyrano): . . .Who would express his admiration, Sir, For your new exploit noised so loud abroad. THE CROWD: Bravo! CYRANO (bowing): The Marshal is a judge of valor. DE GUICHE: He could not have believed the thing, unless These gentlemen had sworn they witnessed it. CUIGY: With our own eyes! LE BRET (aside to Cyrano, who has an absent air): But. . .you. . . CYRANO: Hush! LE BRET: But. . .You suffer? CYRANO (starting): Before this rabble?--I?. . . (He draws himself up, twirls his mustache, and throws back his shoulders): Wait!. . .You shall see! DE GUICHE (to whom Cuigy has spoken in a low voice): In feats of arms, already your career Abounded.--You serve with those crazy pates Of Gascons? CYRANO: Ay, with the Cadets. A CADET (in a terrible voice): With us! DE GUICHE (looking at the cadets, ranged behind Cyrano): Ah!. . .All these gentlemen of haughty mien, Are they the famous?. . . CARBON: Cyrano! CYRANO: Ay, Captain! CARBON: Since all my company's assembled here, Pray favor me,--present them to my lord! CYRANO (making two steps toward De Guiche): My Lord de Guiche, permit that I present-- (pointing to the cadets): The bold Cadets of Gascony, Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux! Brawling and swaggering boastfully, The bold Cadets of Gascony! Spouting of Armory, Heraldry, Their veins a-brimming with blood so blue, The bold Cadets of Gascony, Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux: Eagle-eye, and spindle-shanks, Fierce mustache, and wolfish tooth! Slash-the-rabble and scatter-their-ranks; Eagle-eye and spindle-shanks, With a flaming feather that gayly pranks, Hiding the holes in their hats, forsooth! Eagle-eye and spindle-shanks, Fierce mustache, and wolfish tooth! 'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk' Are their gentlest sobriquets; With Fame and Glory their soul is drunk! 'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk,' In brawl and skirmish they show their spunk, Give rendezvous in broil and fray; 'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk' Are their gentlest sobriquets! What, ho! Cadets of Gascony! All jealous lovers are sport for you! O Woman! dear divinity! What, ho! Cadets of Gascony! Whom scowling husbands quake to see. Blow, 'taratara,' and cry 'Cuckoo.' What, ho! Cadets of Gascony! Husbands and lovers are game for you! DE GUICHE (seated with haughty carelessness in an armchair brought quickly by Ragueneau): A poet! 'Tis the fashion of the hour! --Will you be mine? CYRANO: No, Sir,--no man's! DE GUICHE: Last night Your fancy pleased my uncle Richelieu. I'll gladly say a word to him for you. LE BRET (overjoyed): Great Heavens! DE GUICHE: I imagine you have rhymed Five acts, or so? LE BRET (in Cyrano's ear): Your play!--your 'Agrippine!' You'll see it staged at last! DE GUICHE: Take them to him. CYRANO (beginning to be tempted and attracted): In sooth,--I would. . . DE GUICHE: He is a critic skilled: He may correct a line or two, at most. CYRANO (whose face stiffens at once): Impossible! My blood congeals to think That other hand should change a comma's dot. DE GUICHE: But when a verse approves itself to him He pays it dear, good friend. CYRANO: He pays less dear Than I myself; when a verse pleases me I pay myself, and sing it to myself! DE GUICHE: You are proud. CYRANO: Really? You have noticed that? A CADET (entering, with a string of old battered plumed beaver hats, full of holes, slung on his sword): See, Cyrano,--this morning, on the quay What strange bright-feathered game we caught! The hats O' the fugitives. . . CARBON: 'Spolia opima!' ALL (laughing): Ah! ah! ah! CUIGY: He who laid that ambush, 'faith! Must curse and swear! BRISSAILLE: Who was it? DE GUICHE: I myself. (The laughter stops): I charged them--work too dirty for my sword, To punish and chastise a rhymster sot. (Constrained silence.) The CADET (in a low voice, to Cyrano, showing him the beavers): What do with them? They're full of grease!--a stew? CYRANO (taking the sword and, with a salute, dropping the hats at De Guiche's feet): Sir, pray be good enough to render them Back to your friends. DE GUICHE (rising, sharply): My chair there--quick!--I go! (To Cyrano passionately): As to you, sirrah!. . . VOICE (in the street): Porters for my lord De Guiche! DE GUICHE (who has controlled himself--smiling): Have you read 'Don Quixote'? CYRANO: I have! And doff my hat at th' mad knight-errant's name. DE GUICHE: I counsel you to study. . . A PORTER (appearing at back): My lord's chair! DE GUICHE: . . .The windmill chapter! CYRANO (bowing): Chapter the Thirteenth. DE GUICHE: For when one tilts 'gainst windmills--it may chance. . . CYRANO: Tilt I 'gainst those who change with every breeze? DE GUICHE: . . .That windmill sails may sweep you with their arm Down--in the mire!. . . CYRANO: Or upward--to the stars! (De Guiche goes out, and mounts into his chair. The other lords go away whispering together. Le Bret goes to the door with them. The crowd disperses.) Cyrano, Le Bret, the cadets, who are eating and drinking at the tables right and left. CYRANO (bowing mockingly to those who go out without daring to salute him): Gentlemen. . .Gentlemen. . . LE BRET (coming back, despairingly): Here's a fine coil! CYRANO: Oh! scold away! LE BRET: At least, you will agree That to annihilate each chance of Fate Exaggerates. . . CYRANO: Yes!--I exaggerate! LE BRET (triumphantly): Ah! CYRANO: But for principle--example too,-- I think 'tis well thus to exaggerate. LE BRET: Oh! lay aside that pride of musketeer, Fortune and glory wait you!. . . CYRANO: Ay, and then?. . . Seek a protector, choose a patron out, And like the crawling ivy round a tree That licks the bark to gain the trunk's support, Climb high by creeping ruse instead of force? No, grammercy! What! I, like all the rest Dedicate verse to bankers?--play buffoon In cringing hope to see, at last, a smile Not disapproving, on a patron's lips? Grammercy, no! What! learn to swallow toads? --With frame aweary climbing stairs?--a skin Grown grimed and horny,--here, about the knees? And, acrobat-like, teach my back to bend?-- No, grammercy! Or,--double-faced and sly-- Run with the hare, while hunting with the hounds; And, oily-tongued, to win the oil of praise, Flatter the great man to his very nose? No, grammercy! Steal soft from lap to lap, --A little great man in a circle small, Or navigate, with madrigals for sails, Blown gently windward by old ladies' sighs? No, grammercy! Bribe kindly editors To spread abroad my verses? Grammercy! Or try to be elected as the pope Of tavern-councils held by imbeciles? No, grammercy! Toil to gain reputation By one small sonnet, 'stead of making many? No, grammercy! Or flatter sorry bunglers? Be terrorized by every prating paper? Say ceaselessly, 'Oh, had I but the chance Of a fair notice in the "Mercury"!' Grammercy, no! Grow pale, fear, calculate? Prefer to make a visit to a rhyme? Seek introductions, draw petitions up? No, grammercy! and no! and no again! But--sing? Dream, laugh, go lightly, solitary, free, With eyes that look straight forward--fearless voice! To cock your beaver just the way you choose,-- For 'yes' or 'no' show fight, or turn a rhyme! --To work without one thought of gain or fame, To realize that journey to the moon! Never to pen a line that has not sprung Straight from the heart within. Embracing then Modesty, say to oneself, 'Good my friend, Be thou content with flowers,--fruit,--nay, leaves, But pluck them from no garden but thine own!' And then, if glory come by chance your way, To pay no tribute unto Caesar, none, But keep the merit all your own! In short, Disdaining tendrils of the parasite, To be content, if neither oak nor elm-- Not to mount high, perchance, but mount alone! LE BRET: Alone, an if you will! But not with hand 'Gainst every man! How in the devil's name Have you conceived this lunatic idea, To make foes for yourself at every turn? CYRANO: By dint of seeing you at every turn Make friends,--and fawn upon your frequent friends With mouth wide smiling, slit from ear to ear! I pass, still unsaluted, joyfully, And cry,--What, ho! another enemy? LE BRET: Lunacy! CYRANO: Well, what if it be my vice, My pleasure to displease--to love men hate me! Ah, friend of mine, believe me, I march better 'Neath the cross-fire of glances inimical! How droll the stains one sees on fine-laced doublets, From gall of envy, or the poltroon's drivel! --The enervating friendship which enfolds you Is like an open-laced Italian collar, Floating around your neck in woman's fashion; One is at ease thus,--but less proud the carriage! The forehead, free from mainstay or coercion, Bends here, there, everywhere. But I, embracing Hatred, she lends,--forbidding, stiffly fluted, The ruff's starched folds that hold the head so rigid; Each enemy--another fold--a gopher, Who adds constraint, and adds a ray of glory; For Hatred, like the ruff worn by the Spanish, Grips like a vice, but frames you like a halo! LE BRET (after a silence, taking his arm): Speak proud aloud, and bitter!--In my ear Whisper me simply this,--She loves thee not! CYRANO (vehemently): Hush! (Christian has just entered, and mingled with the cadets, who do not speak to him; he has seated himself at a table, where Lise serves him.)

Act II -- Scenes 7-8

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-78

The Gascony Guards enter, proud of Cyrano. There is also a poet who wants to immortalize the exploit, and a newspaper editor who wants to interview Cyrano. The little pastry shop is suddenly full and noisy. Cyrano, of course, cares nothing for poets and reporters. When Le Bret asks about his interview with Roxane, Cyrano simply tells him to be quiet. De Guiche, Richelieu's powerful nephew who wants Roxane for his mistress, offers the services of himself and his uncle. Cyrano refuses, though he has written a play that he would like to see produced. As De Guiche leaves, he asks Cyrano if he knows of Don Quixote. Cyrano acknowledges that he recognizes himself. De Guiche tells him that the arm of the windmill could cause his downfall, but Cyrano refuses to be intimidated. Le Bret chides Cyrano for throwing away such a brilliant opportunity. Cyrano describes the life of a protege in disparaging terms. He wants to be free, to sing, to dream. He still refuses to discuss Roxane.

Scene 7 gets the cadets on stage and shows their admiration of Cyrano. Cyrano, in refusing De Guiche's offer so cavalierly, is in a sense throwing away another bag of gold. This, however, is more than an extravagant gesture; it is also a dangerous one because De Guiche is a powerful man who does not like to be crossed. Cyrano's impassioned defense to Le Bret of intellectual freedom is a beautiful speech, altogether in character, and as impractical as Ragueneau's attitude toward the poets. One might say, however, that it is just such impractical attitudes as this one in the play that caused Cyrano to be continuously popular through the years. It is these ideas that have caused men to rebel, even up to our present day.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_2_chapters_9_to_10.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_8_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 2.scenes 9-10

act 2 scenes 9-10

{"name": "Act II -- Scenes 9-10", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-910", "summary": "Christian enters and talks with the Guards, and the other cadets tell him that he must under no circumstances mention or imply the word \"nose\" in Cyrano's presence. The cadets ask Cyrano to tell them about the fights of the evening before. Averse as he was to telling reporters or poets about his exploits, he enjoys telling his friends. While Cyrano is talking, Christian continually interrupts him by interjecting the word \"nose\" into the story. Cyrano becomes more and more furious but, knowing that Christian is the man whom he has promised to protect, he cannot give vent to his anger. At last, he can stand it no longer. He sends everyone out and explains that he is Roxane's cousin. Christian confesses that he is afraid that he will lose Roxane because he cannot speak and write well -- he is only a simple soldier. Roxane is so refined that she will surely not love him. Cyrano says that together, with Christian's looks and Cyrano's genius, they make one perfect hero. Roxane will suffer no disappointment. He gives Christian the unsigned letter he had written, telling him to send it as his own -- he has but to sign it.", "analysis": "Rostand establishes once and for all that Christian is no coward by having him try very hard to impress the cadets. He has been warned about the subject of Cyrano's nose, so he does his best to provoke the famous swordsman to a duel. There is humor in Cyrano's dilemma. Cyrano's guess proves to be true. Christian confesses, in effect, that his brainpower is not the equal of his physical beauty. Cyrano generously gives the letter to him, beginning the deceit that will last for nearly fifteen years. Rostand brings this ridiculous situation about so carefully that it seems almost logical. He has prepared us for everything. The unsigned letter is at hand. Is Cyrano being generous? Does he merely want Roxane to have what she wants? Does he really think that she could be happy as the wife of the brave but simple soldier? On the other hand, perhaps he really meant his defense of freedom speech in Scene 8. Perhaps he realizes subconsciously that what he needs is not a wife, but an unrequited love. His motive is one we will never know. Rostand nowhere implies that Cyrano ever adopts any of the false values of the precieuse and we must assume that his conscious motive is pure and noble. Perhaps he feels that Christian is worthy of Roxane. Or maybe his disappointment is so acute that for the moment he feels defeated. While there are many possible explanations, the play is a better one for leaving a few questions unanswered."}

Cyrano, Le Bret, the cadets, Christian de Neuvillette. A CADET (seated at a table, glass in hand): Cyrano! (Cyrano turns round): The story! CYRANO: In its time! (He goes up on Le Bret's arm. They talk in low voices.) THE CADET (rising and coming down): The story of the fray! 'Twill lesson well (He stops before the table where Christian is seated): This timid young apprentice! CHRISTIAN (raising his head): 'Prentice! Who? ANOTHER CADET: This sickly Northern greenhorn! CHRISTIAN: Sickly! FIRST CADET (mockingly): Hark! Monsieur de Neuvillette, this in your ear: There's somewhat here, one no more dares to name, Than to say 'rope' to one whose sire was hanged! CHRISTIAN: What may that be? ANOTHER CADET (in a terrible voice): See here! (He puts his finger three times, mysteriously, on his nose): Do you understand? CHRISTIAN: Oh! 'tis the. . . ANOTHER: Hush! oh, never breathe that word, Unless you'd reckon with him yonder! (He points to Cyrano, who is talking with Le Bret.) ANOTHER (who has meanwhile come up noiselessly to sit on the table--whispering behind him): Hark! He put two snuffling men to death, in rage, For the sole reason they spoke through their nose! ANOTHER (in a hollow voice, darting on all-fours from under the table, where he had crept): And if you would not perish in flower o' youth, --Oh, mention not the fatal cartilage! ANOTHER (clapping him on the shoulder): A word? A gesture! For the indiscreet His handkerchief may prove his winding-sheet! (Silence. All, with crossed arms, look at Christian. He rises and goes over to Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, who is talking to an officer, and feigns to see nothing.) CHRISTIAN: Captain! CARBON (turning and looking at him from head to foot): Sir! CHRISTIAN: Pray, what skills it best to do To Southerners who swagger?. . . CARBON: Give them proof That one may be a Northerner, yet brave! (He turns his back on him.) CHRISTIAN: I thank you. FIRST CADET (to Cyrano): Now the tale! ALL: The tale! CYRANO (coming toward them): The tale?. . . (All bring their stools up, and group round him, listening eagerly. Christian is astride a chair): Well! I went all alone to meet the band. The moon was shining, clock-like, full i' th' sky, When, suddenly, some careful clockwright passed A cloud of cotton-wool across the case That held this silver watch. And, presto! heigh! The night was inky black, and all the quays Were hidden in the murky dark. Gadsooks! One could see nothing further. . . CHRISTIAN: Than one's nose! (Silence. All slowly rise, looking in terror at Cyrano, who has stopped-- dumfounded. Pause.) CYRANO: Who on God's earth is that? A CADET (whispering): It is a man Who joined to-day. CYRANO (making a step toward Christian): To-day? CARBON (in a low voice): Yes. . .his name is The Baron de Neuvil. . . CYRANO (checking himself): Good! It is well. . . (He turns pale, flushes, makes as if to fall on Christian): I. . . (He controls himself): What said I?. . . (With a burst of rage): MORDIOUS!. . . (Then continues calmly): That it was dark. (Astonishment. The cadets reseat themselves, staring at him): On I went, thinking, 'For a knavish cause I may provoke some great man, some great prince, Who certainly could break'. . . CHRISTIAN: My nose!. . . (Every one starts up. Christian balances on his chair.) CYRANO (in a choked voice): . . .'My teeth! Who would break my teeth, and I, imprudent-like, Was poking. . .' CHRISTIAN: My nose!. . . CYRANO: 'My finger,. . .in the crack Between the tree and bark! He may prove strong And rap me. . .' CHRISTIAN: Over the nose. . . CYRANO (wiping his forehead): . . .'O' th' knuckles! Ay,' But I cried, 'Forward, Gascon! Duty calls! On, Cyrano!' And thus I ventured on. . . When, from the shadow, came. . . CHRISTIAN: A crack o' th' nose. CYRANO: I parry it--find myself. . . CHRISTIAN: Nose to nose. . . CYRANO (bounding on to him): Heaven and earth! (All the Gascons leap up to see, but when he is close to Christian he controls himself and continues): . . .With a hundred brawling sots, Who stank. . . CHRISTIAN: A noseful. . . CYRANO (white, but smiling): Onions, brandy-cups! I leapt out, head well down. . . CHRISTIAN: Nosing the wind! CYRANO: I charge!--gore two, impale one--run him through, One aims at me--Paf! and I parry. . . CHRISTIAN: Pif! CYRANO (bursting out): Great God! Out! all of you! (The cadets rush to the doors.) FIRST CADET: The tiger wakes! CYRANO: Every man, out! Leave me alone with him! SECOND CADET: We shall find him minced fine, minced into hash In a big pasty! RAGUENEAU: I am turning pale, And curl up, like a napkin, limp and white! CARBON: Let us be gone. ANOTHER: He will not leave a crumb! ANOTHER: I die of fright to think what will pass here! ANOTHER (shutting door right): Something too horrible! (All have gone out by different doors, some by the staircase. Cyrano and Christian are face to face, looking at each other for a moment.) Cyrano, Christian. CYRANO: Embrace me now! CHRISTIAN: Sir. . . CYRANO: You are brave. CHRISTIAN: Oh! but. . . CYRANO: Nay, I insist. CHRISTIAN: Pray tell me. . . CYRANO: Come, embrace! I am her brother. CHRISTIAN: Whose brother? CYRANO: Hers i' faith! Roxane's! CHRISTIAN (rushing up to him): O heavens! Her brother. . .? CYRANO: Cousin--brother!. . .the same thing! CHRISTIAN: And she has told you. . .? CYRANO: All! CHRISTIAN: She loves me? say! CYRANO: Maybe! CHRISTIAN (taking his hands): How glad I am to meet you, Sir! CYRANO: That may be called a sudden sentiment! CHRISTIAN: I ask your pardon. . . CYRANO (looking at him, with his hand on his shoulder): True, he's fair, the villain! CHRISTIAN: Ah, Sir! If you but knew my admiration!. . . CYRANO: But all those noses?. . . CHRISTIAN: Oh! I take them back! CYRANO: Roxane expects a letter. CHRISTIAN: Woe the day! CYRANO: How? CHRISTIAN: I am lost if I but ope my lips! CYRANO: Why so? CHRISTIAN: I am a fool--could die for shame! CYRANO: None is a fool who knows himself a fool. And you did not attack me like a fool. CHRISTIAN: Bah! One finds battle-cry to lead th' assault! I have a certain military wit, But, before women, can but hold my tongue. Their eyes! True, when I pass, their eyes are kind. . . CYRANO: And, when you stay, their hearts, methinks, are kinder? CHRISTIAN: No! for I am one of those men--tongue-tied, I know it--who can never tell their love. CYRANO: And I, meseems, had Nature been more kind, More careful, when she fashioned me,--had been One of those men who well could speak their love! CHRISTIAN: Oh, to express one's thoughts with facile grace!. . . CYRANO: . . .To be a musketeer, with handsome face! CHRISTIAN: Roxane is precieuse. I'm sure to prove A disappointment to her! CYRANO (looking at him): Had I but Such an interpreter to speak my soul! CHRISTIAN (with despair): Eloquence! Where to find it? CYRANO (abruptly): That I lend, If you lend me your handsome victor-charms; Blended, we make a hero of romance! CHRISTIAN: How so? CYRANO: Think you you can repeat what things I daily teach your tongue? CHRISTIAN: What do you mean? CYRANO: Roxane shall never have a disillusion! Say, wilt thou that we woo her, double-handed? Wilt thou that we two woo her, both together? Feel'st thou, passing from my leather doublet, Through thy laced doublet, all my soul inspiring? CHRISTIAN: But, Cyrano!. . . CYRANO: Will you, I say? CHRISTIAN: I fear! CYRANO: Since, by yourself, you fear to chill her heart, Will you--to kindle all her heart to flame-- Wed into one my phrases and your lips? CHRISTIAN: Your eyes flash! CYRANO: Will you? CHRISTIAN: Will it please you so? --Give you such pleasure? CYRANO (madly): It!. . . (Then calmly, business-like): It would amuse me! It is an enterprise to tempt a poet. Will you complete me, and let me complete you? You march victorious,--I go in your shadow; Let me be wit for you, be you my beauty! CHRISTIAN: The letter, that she waits for even now! I never can. . . CYRANO (taking out the letter he had written): See! Here it is--your letter! CHRISTIAN: What? CYRANO: Take it! Look, it wants but the address. CHRISTIAN: But I. . . CYRANO: Fear nothing. Send it. It will suit. CHRISTIAN: But have you. . .? CYRANO: Oh! We have our pockets full, We poets, of love-letters, writ to Chloes, Daphnes--creations of our noddle-heads. Our lady-loves,--phantasms of our brains, --Dream-fancies blown into soap-bubbles! Come! Take it, and change feigned love-words into true; I breathed my sighs and moans haphazard-wise; Call all these wandering love-birds home to nest. You'll see that I was in these lettered lines, --Eloquent all the more, the less sincere! --Take it, and make an end! CHRISTIAN: Were it not well To change some words? Written haphazard-wise, Will it fit Roxane? CYRANO: 'Twill fit like a glove! CHRISTIAN: But. . . CYRANO: Ah, credulity of love! Roxane Will think each word inspired by herself! CHRISTIAN: My friend! (He throws himself into Cyrano's arms. They remain thus.)

Act II -- Scenes 9-10

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scenes-910

Christian enters and talks with the Guards, and the other cadets tell him that he must under no circumstances mention or imply the word "nose" in Cyrano's presence. The cadets ask Cyrano to tell them about the fights of the evening before. Averse as he was to telling reporters or poets about his exploits, he enjoys telling his friends. While Cyrano is talking, Christian continually interrupts him by interjecting the word "nose" into the story. Cyrano becomes more and more furious but, knowing that Christian is the man whom he has promised to protect, he cannot give vent to his anger. At last, he can stand it no longer. He sends everyone out and explains that he is Roxane's cousin. Christian confesses that he is afraid that he will lose Roxane because he cannot speak and write well -- he is only a simple soldier. Roxane is so refined that she will surely not love him. Cyrano says that together, with Christian's looks and Cyrano's genius, they make one perfect hero. Roxane will suffer no disappointment. He gives Christian the unsigned letter he had written, telling him to send it as his own -- he has but to sign it.

Rostand establishes once and for all that Christian is no coward by having him try very hard to impress the cadets. He has been warned about the subject of Cyrano's nose, so he does his best to provoke the famous swordsman to a duel. There is humor in Cyrano's dilemma. Cyrano's guess proves to be true. Christian confesses, in effect, that his brainpower is not the equal of his physical beauty. Cyrano generously gives the letter to him, beginning the deceit that will last for nearly fifteen years. Rostand brings this ridiculous situation about so carefully that it seems almost logical. He has prepared us for everything. The unsigned letter is at hand. Is Cyrano being generous? Does he merely want Roxane to have what she wants? Does he really think that she could be happy as the wife of the brave but simple soldier? On the other hand, perhaps he really meant his defense of freedom speech in Scene 8. Perhaps he realizes subconsciously that what he needs is not a wife, but an unrequited love. His motive is one we will never know. Rostand nowhere implies that Cyrano ever adopts any of the false values of the precieuse and we must assume that his conscious motive is pure and noble. Perhaps he feels that Christian is worthy of Roxane. Or maybe his disappointment is so acute that for the moment he feels defeated. While there are many possible explanations, the play is a better one for leaving a few questions unanswered.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/20.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_9_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 2.scene 11

act 2 scene 11

{"name": "Act II -- Scene 11", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scene-11", "summary": "The cadets re-enter, and much to their surprise find Christian still alive. The musketeer, deciding that one can now make fun of Cyrano's nose with impunity, tries his hand at the game. Cyrano knocks him down.", "analysis": "Throughout this act, Cyrano's emotions have run the gamut from elation to depression, and the emotions of the audience have followed in close pursuit. In addition to setting up the situation of the play, Rostand has gotten his audience involved with Cyrano, the man. The playwright has made us hope that his main character's dream of love will come true, only to have those hopes dashed to earth. And he has added the irony that Cyrano must not only protect the man who is taking his love from him, but must also help him to win the girl through deception. And so, by the end of the act we are in need of the comic relief furnished by this scene and the two that precede it. In the previous two scenes, Cyrano is caught in the dilemma of having to accept the insults of the man he has sworn to protect. This internal struggle that goes on as he tries to recount his exploits over Christian's interruptions is a source of high humor for the audience. And the act ends on an even more humorous note when the musketeer misinterprets the situation. Because Cyrano does not kill the musketeer, but simply knocks him down for his insult, it is obvious that Rostand's intention was to end the act on the much-needed light note."}

Cyrano, Christian, the Gascons, the musketeer, Lise. A CADET (half opening the door): Naught here!. . .The silence of the grave! I dare not look. . . (He puts his head in): Why?. . . ALL THE CADETS (entering, and seeing Cyrano and Christian embracing): Oh!. . . A CADET: This passes all! (Consternation.) THE MUSKETEER (mockingly): Ho, ho!. . . CARBON: Our demon has become a saint? Struck on one nostril--lo! he turns the other! MUSKETEER: Then we may speak about his nose, henceforth!. . . (Calling to Lise, boastfully): --Ah, Lise, see here! (Sniffing ostentatiously): O heavens!. . .what a stink!. . . (Going up to Cyrano): You, sir, without a doubt have sniffed it up! --What is the smell I notice here? CYRANO (cuffing his head): Clove-heads. (General delight. The cadets have found the old Cyrano again! They turn somersaults.) Curtain.

Act II -- Scene 11

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-ii-8212-scene-11

The cadets re-enter, and much to their surprise find Christian still alive. The musketeer, deciding that one can now make fun of Cyrano's nose with impunity, tries his hand at the game. Cyrano knocks him down.

Throughout this act, Cyrano's emotions have run the gamut from elation to depression, and the emotions of the audience have followed in close pursuit. In addition to setting up the situation of the play, Rostand has gotten his audience involved with Cyrano, the man. The playwright has made us hope that his main character's dream of love will come true, only to have those hopes dashed to earth. And he has added the irony that Cyrano must not only protect the man who is taking his love from him, but must also help him to win the girl through deception. And so, by the end of the act we are in need of the comic relief furnished by this scene and the two that precede it. In the previous two scenes, Cyrano is caught in the dilemma of having to accept the insults of the man he has sworn to protect. This internal struggle that goes on as he tries to recount his exploits over Christian's interruptions is a source of high humor for the audience. And the act ends on an even more humorous note when the musketeer misinterprets the situation. Because Cyrano does not kill the musketeer, but simply knocks him down for his insult, it is obvious that Rostand's intention was to end the act on the much-needed light note.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/22.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_10_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 3.scene 1

act 3 scene 1

{"name": "Act III -- Scene 1", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scene-1", "summary": "Act III, entitled \"Roxane's Kiss,\" takes place in the street under Roxane's balcony. It opens with Ragueneau telling Roxane's duenna that his wife, Lise, ran off with the musketeer. He tried to hang himself, but Cyrano saved him and brought him to Roxane to be a steward in her household. Cyrano enters, followed by musicians whom he keeps correcting. He explains that he won them for a day with a bet over a fine point of grammar. Roxane tells Cyrano that Christian is a genius: He will be quiet and distracted for a moment, and then say the most beautiful things. Cyrano teases her about some of Christian's speeches.", "analysis": "The fact that Cyrano saved Ragueneau's life is characteristic of Cyrano. Lise's defection is a logical result of the relationship shown in Act II between her and Ragueneau . This enables Rostand to keep Ragueneau in the play and gives the baker good reason to be a loyal friend to Cyrano. Note that Cyrano, the Renaissance man, has won the musicians in a dispute over a point of grammar -- \"I was right, of course.\" -- and is now correcting the musicians. He knows grammar and music, writes poetry, and is a superb swordsman. New facets of his personality, and new abilities, are continually being shown to us. Cyrano enjoys teasing Roxane about Christian's beautiful speeches, and hearing her hotly defend each word. Though writing for someone else, he still has an author's pride in his creation. It seems that this is a game to him, a way to exercise his fertile brain and facile wit, and that he gives little or no thought to the consequences. He may, of course, be convinced that because they do love each other, as each has confessed to him, playing Cupid is the noblest, most generous and extravagant gesture he can make. He is, after all, a modest man in some ways."}

Ragueneau, the duenna. Then Roxane, Cyrano, and two pages. RAGUENEAU: --And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:-- then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to take me for her steward. THE DUENNA: Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined? RAGUENEAU: Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was not long a-coming. THE DUENNA (rising, and calling up to the open window): Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us! ROXANE'S VOICE (from the window): I will but put me on a cloak! THE DUENNA (to Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite): They wait us there opposite, at Clomire's house. She receives them all there to-day--the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender Passion. RAGUENEAU: The Tender Passion? THE DUENNA (in a mincing voice): Ay, indeed! (Calling up to the window): Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the Tender Passion! ROXANE'S VOICE: I come! I come! (A sound of stringed instruments approaching.) CYRANO'S VOICE (behind the scenes, singing): La, la, la, la! THE DUENNA (surprised): They serenade us? CYRANO (followed by two pages with arch-lutes): I tell you they are demi-semi-quavers, demi-semi-fool! FIRST PAGE (ironically): You know then, Sir, to distinguish between semi-quavers and demi-semi- quavers? CYRANO: Is not every disciple of Gassendi a musician? THE PAGE (playing and singing): La, la! CYRANO (snatching the lute from him, and going on with the phrase): In proof of which, I can continue! La, la, la, la! ROXANE (appearing on the balcony): What? 'Tis you? CYRANO (going on with the air, and singing to it): 'Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o- oses! ROXANE: I am coming down! (She leaves the balcony.) THE DUENNA (pointing to the pages): How come these two virtuosi here? CYRANO: 'Tis for a wager I won of D'Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar; contradictions raged hotly--''Tis so!' 'Nay, 'tis so!' when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skillful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws! 'I will wager you a day's music,' says he!--And lost it! Thus, see you, till Phoebus' chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody. 'Twas pleasant at the first, but i' faith, I begin to weary of it already! (To the musicians): Ho there! go serenade Montfleury for me! Play a dance to him! (The pages go toward the door. To the duenna): I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether. . . (To the pages, who are going out): Play a long time,--and play out of tune! (To the duenna): . . .Whether her soul's elected is ever the same, ever faultless! ROXANE (coming out of the house): Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And--how well I love him! CYRANO (smiling): Christian has so brilliant a wit? ROXANE: Brighter than even your own, cousin! CYRANO: Be it so, with all my heart! ROXANE: Ah! methinks 'twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much-- that mean all! At times his mind seems far away, the Muse says naught--and then, presto! he speaks--bewitchingly! enchantingly! CYRANO (incredulously): No, no! ROXANE: Fie! That is ill said! But lo! men are ever thus! Because he is fair to see, you would have it that he must be dull of speech. CYRANO: He hath an eloquent tongue in telling his love? ROXANE: In telling his love? why, 'tis not simple telling, 'tis dissertation, 'tis analysis! CYRANO: How is he with the pen? ROXANE: Still better! Listen,--here:-- (Reciting): 'The more of my poor heart you take The larger grows my heart!' (Triumphantly to Cyrano): How like you those lines? CYRANO: Pooh! ROXANE: And thus it goes on. . . 'And, since some target I must show For Cupid's cruel dart, Oh, if mine own you deign to keep, Then give me your sweet heart!' CYRANO: Lord! first he has too much, then anon not enough! How much heart does the fellow want? ROXANE: You would vex a saint!. . .But 'tis your jealousy. CYRANO (starting): What mean you? ROXANE: Ay, your poet's jealousy! Hark now, if this again be not tender-sweet?-- 'My heart to yours sounds but one cry: If kisses fast could flee By letter, then with your sweet lips My letters read should be! If kisses could be writ with ink, If kisses fast could flee!' CYRANO (smiling approvingly in spite of himself): Ha! those last lines are,--hm!. . .hm!. . . (Correcting himself--contemptuously): --They are paltry enough! ROXANE: And this. . . CYRANO (enchanted): Then you have his letters by heart? ROXANE: Every one of them! CYRANO: By all oaths that can be sworn,--'tis flattering! ROXANE: They are the lines of a master! CYRANO (modestly): Come, nay. . .a master?. . . ROXANE: Ay, I say it--a master! CYRANO: Good--be it so. THE DUENNA (coming down quickly): Here comes Monsieur de Guiche! (To Cyrano, pushing him toward the house): In with you! 'twere best he see you not; it might perchance put him on the scent. . . ROXANE (to Cyrano): Ay, of my own dear secret! He loves me, and is powerful, and, if he knew, then all were lost! Marry! he could well deal a deathblow to my love! CYRANO (entering the house): Good! good! (De Guiche appears.)

Act III -- Scene 1

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scene-1

Act III, entitled "Roxane's Kiss," takes place in the street under Roxane's balcony. It opens with Ragueneau telling Roxane's duenna that his wife, Lise, ran off with the musketeer. He tried to hang himself, but Cyrano saved him and brought him to Roxane to be a steward in her household. Cyrano enters, followed by musicians whom he keeps correcting. He explains that he won them for a day with a bet over a fine point of grammar. Roxane tells Cyrano that Christian is a genius: He will be quiet and distracted for a moment, and then say the most beautiful things. Cyrano teases her about some of Christian's speeches.

The fact that Cyrano saved Ragueneau's life is characteristic of Cyrano. Lise's defection is a logical result of the relationship shown in Act II between her and Ragueneau . This enables Rostand to keep Ragueneau in the play and gives the baker good reason to be a loyal friend to Cyrano. Note that Cyrano, the Renaissance man, has won the musicians in a dispute over a point of grammar -- "I was right, of course." -- and is now correcting the musicians. He knows grammar and music, writes poetry, and is a superb swordsman. New facets of his personality, and new abilities, are continually being shown to us. Cyrano enjoys teasing Roxane about Christian's beautiful speeches, and hearing her hotly defend each word. Though writing for someone else, he still has an author's pride in his creation. It seems that this is a game to him, a way to exercise his fertile brain and facile wit, and that he gives little or no thought to the consequences. He may, of course, be convinced that because they do love each other, as each has confessed to him, playing Cupid is the noblest, most generous and extravagant gesture he can make. He is, after all, a modest man in some ways.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_3_chapters_2_to_3.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_11_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 3.scenes 2-3

act 3 scenes 2-3

{"name": "Act III -- Scenes 2-3", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-23", "summary": "De Guiche enters and tells Roxane that he has come to say goodbye. He has been placed in command of Cyrano's regiment. She tells him that if he really wants to hurt Cyrano, he should leave him and the other cadets behind, while the rest of the regiment goes on to glorious victory. De Guiche sees in this a sign that Roxane loves him and suggests a rendezvous at a monastery. She makes De Guiche believe she is consenting; she has managed to keep Christian out of the war. Cyrano comes out of the house and asks Roxane on what subject she will ask Christian to speak tonight. She replies that tonight he must improvise on the subject of love.", "analysis": "For the sake of Christian, Roxane plays the coquette with De Guiche, and very skillfully. We are shown how powerful De Guiche is, and how much vengeance he would take for a slight, for Cyrano has only refused De Guiche's offer to be his patron. He does not hesitate to use this threat of revenge against Cyrano to influence Roxane. When Roxane tells Cyrano that Christian's subject for the evening will be to improvise on love, he sees an opportunity to work in all the beautiful phrases he has been saving up for just such an occasion."}

Roxane, De Guiche, the duenna standing a little way off. ROXANE (courtesying to De Guiche): I was going out. DE GUICHE: I come to take my leave. ROXANE: Whither go you? DE GUICHE: To the war. ROXANE: Ah! DE GUICHE: Ay, to-night. ROXANE: Oh! DE GUICHE: I am ordered away. We are to besiege Arras. ROXANE: Ah--to besiege?. . . DE GUICHE: Ay. My going moves you not, meseems. ROXANE: Nay. . . DE GUICHE: I am grieved to the core of the heart. Shall I again behold you?. . .When? I know not. Heard you that I am named commander?. . . ROXANE (indifferently): Bravo! DE GUICHE: Of the Guards regiment. ROXANE (startled): What! the Guards? DE GUICHE: Ay, where serves your cousin, the swaggering boaster. I will find a way to revenge myself on him at Arras. ROXANE (choking): What mean you? The Guards go to Arras? DE GUICHE (laughing): Bethink you, is it not my own regiment? ROXANE (falling seated on the bench--aside): Christian! DE GUICHE: What ails you? ROXANE (moved deeply): Oh--I am in despair! The man one loves!--at the war! DE GUICHE (surprised and delighted): You say such sweet words to me! 'Tis the first time!--and just when I must quit you! ROXANE (collected, and fanning herself): Thus,--you would fain revenge your grudge against my cousin? DE GUICHE: My fair lady is on his side? ROXANE: Nay,--against him! DE GUICHE: Do you see him often? ROXANE: But very rarely. DE GUICHE: He is ever to be met now in company with one of the cadets,. . .one New-- villen--viller-- ROXANE: Of high stature? DE GUICHE: Fair-haired! ROXANE: Ay, a red-headed fellow! DE GUICHE: Handsome!. . . ROXANE: Tut! DE GUICHE: But dull-witted. ROXANE: One would think so, to look at him! (Changing her tone): How mean you to play your revenge on Cyrano? Perchance you think to put him i' the thick of the shots? Nay, believe me, that were a poor vengeance--he would love such a post better than aught else! I know the way to wound his pride far more keenly! DE GUICHE: What then? Tell. . . ROXANE: If, when the regiment march to Arras, he were left here with his beloved boon companions, the Cadets, to sit with crossed arms so long as the war lasted! There is your method, would you enrage a man of his kind; cheat him of his chance of mortal danger, and you punish him right fiercely. DE GUICHE (coming nearer): O woman! woman! Who but a woman had e'er devised so subtle a trick? ROXANE: See you not how he will eat out his heart, while his friends gnaw their thick fists for that they are deprived of the battle? So are you best avenged. DE GUICHE: You love me, then, a little? (She smiles): I would fain--seeing you thus espouse my cause, Roxane--believe it a proof of love! ROXANE: 'Tis a proof of love! DE GUICHE (showing some sealed papers): Here are the marching orders; they will be sent instantly to each company-- except-- (He detaches one): --This one! 'Tis that of the Cadets. (He puts it in his pocket): This I keep. (Laughing): Ha! ha! ha! Cyrano! His love of battle!. . .So you can play tricks on people?. . .you, of all ladies! ROXANE: Sometimes! DE GUICHE (coming close to her): Oh! how I love you!--to distraction! Listen! To-night--true, I ought to start--but--how leave you now that I feel your heart is touched! Hard by, in the Rue d'Orleans, is a convent founded by Father Athanasius, the syndic of the Capuchins. True that no layman may enter--but--I can settle that with the good Fathers! Their habit sleeves are wide enough to hide me in. 'Tis they who serve Richelieu's private chapel: and from respect to the uncle, fear the nephew. All will deem me gone. I will come to you, masked. Give me leave to wait till tomorrow, sweet Lady Fanciful! ROXANE: But, of this be rumored, your glory. . . DE GUICHE: Bah! ROXANE: But the siege--Arras. . . DE GUICHE: 'Twill take its chance. Grant but permission. ROXANE: No! DE GUICHE: Give me leave! ROXANE (tenderly): It were my duty to forbid you! DE GUICHE: Ah! ROXANE: You must go! (Aside): Christian stays here. (Aloud): I would have you heroic--Antoine! DE GUICHE: O heavenly word! You love, then, him?. . . ROXANE: . . .For whom I trembled. DE GUICHE (in an ecstasy): Ah! I go then! (He kisses her hand): Are you content? ROXANE: Yes, my friend! (He goes out.) THE DUENNA (making behind his back a mocking courtesy): Yes, my friend! ROXANE (to the duenna): Not a word of what I have done. Cyrano would never pardon me for stealing his fighting from him! (She calls toward the house): Cousin! Roxane, The duenna, Cyrano. ROXANE: We are going to Clomire's house. (She points to the door opposite): Alcandre and Lysimon are to discourse! THE DUENNA (putting her little finger in her ear): Yes! But my little finger tells me we shall miss them. CYRANO: 'Twere a pity to miss such apes! (They have come to Clomire's door.) THE DUENNA: Oh, see! The knocker is muffled up! (Speaking to the knocker): So they have gagged that metal tongue of yours, little noisy one, lest it should disturb the fine orators! (She lifts it carefully and knocks with precaution.) ROXANE (seeing that the door opens): Let us enter! (On the threshold, to Cyrano): If Christian comes, as I feel sure he will, bid him wait for me! CYRANO (quickly, as she is going in): Listen! (She turns): What mean you to question him on, as is your wont, to-night? ROXANE: Oh-- CYRANO (eagerly): Well, say. ROXANE: But you will be mute? CYRANO: Mute as a fish. ROXANE: I shall not question him at all, but say: Give rein to your fancy! Prepare not your speeches,--but speak the thoughts as they come! Speak to me of love, and speak splendidly! CYRANO (smiling): Very good! ROXANE: But secret!. . . CYRANO: Secret. ROXANE: Not a word! (She enters and shuts the door.) CYRANO (when the door is shut, bowing to her): A thousand thanks! (The door opens again, and Roxane puts her head out.) ROXANE: Lest he prepare himself! CYRANO: The devil!--no, no! BOTH TOGETHER: Secret. (The door shuts.) CYRANO (calling): Christian!

Act III -- Scenes 2-3

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-23

De Guiche enters and tells Roxane that he has come to say goodbye. He has been placed in command of Cyrano's regiment. She tells him that if he really wants to hurt Cyrano, he should leave him and the other cadets behind, while the rest of the regiment goes on to glorious victory. De Guiche sees in this a sign that Roxane loves him and suggests a rendezvous at a monastery. She makes De Guiche believe she is consenting; she has managed to keep Christian out of the war. Cyrano comes out of the house and asks Roxane on what subject she will ask Christian to speak tonight. She replies that tonight he must improvise on the subject of love.

For the sake of Christian, Roxane plays the coquette with De Guiche, and very skillfully. We are shown how powerful De Guiche is, and how much vengeance he would take for a slight, for Cyrano has only refused De Guiche's offer to be his patron. He does not hesitate to use this threat of revenge against Cyrano to influence Roxane. When Roxane tells Cyrano that Christian's subject for the evening will be to improvise on love, he sees an opportunity to work in all the beautiful phrases he has been saving up for just such an occasion.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/25.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_12_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 3.scene 4

act 3 scene 4

{"name": "Act III -- Scene 4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scene-4", "summary": "Christian refuses to memorize speeches tonight. He is tired of pretense: He knows enough, he says, to take a woman in his arms. He knows that Roxane loves him, and refuses to continue this uncomfortable and demeaning role.", "analysis": "We have already seen, in Act II, that Christian is no coward, though he lacks the facility with words that Roxane demands of a lover. Here, we see that he has moral courage as well. Cyrano is not the only noble character in this play. If Christian had never protested the deception that he and Cyrano are perpetrating upon Roxane, we would think much less of him, and it is necessary that he be a noble idealist, though of course much less so than Cyrano. Without this protest, he would seem a rather despicable character. This scene makes his plight a tragic one, for he feels that he can accomplish his purpose by means of his own capabilities when, in fact, he cannot. Thus, the scene also raises the situation above the comic or the opportunistic aspect it might otherwise have had."}

Cyrano, Christian. CYRANO: I know all that is needful. Here's occasion For you to deck yourself with glory. Come, Lose no time; put away those sulky looks, Come to your house with me, I'll teach you. . . CHRISTIAN: No! CYRANO: Why? CHRISTIAN: I will wait for Roxane here. CYRANO: How? Crazy? Come quick with me and learn. . . CHRISTIAN: No, no! I say. I am aweary of these borrowed letters, --Borrowed love-makings! Thus to act a part, And tremble all the time!--'Twas well enough At the beginning!--Now I know she loves! I fear no longer!--I will speak myself. CYRANO: Mercy! CHRISTIAN: And how know you I cannot speak?-- I am not such a fool when all is said! I've by your lessons profited. You'll see I shall know how to speak alone! The devil! I know at least to clasp her in my arms! (Seeing Roxane come out from Clomire's house): --It is she! Cyrano, no!--Leave me not! CYRANO (bowing): Speak for yourself, my friend, and take your chance. (He disappears behind the garden wall.)

Act III -- Scene 4

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scene-4

Christian refuses to memorize speeches tonight. He is tired of pretense: He knows enough, he says, to take a woman in his arms. He knows that Roxane loves him, and refuses to continue this uncomfortable and demeaning role.

We have already seen, in Act II, that Christian is no coward, though he lacks the facility with words that Roxane demands of a lover. Here, we see that he has moral courage as well. Cyrano is not the only noble character in this play. If Christian had never protested the deception that he and Cyrano are perpetrating upon Roxane, we would think much less of him, and it is necessary that he be a noble idealist, though of course much less so than Cyrano. Without this protest, he would seem a rather despicable character. This scene makes his plight a tragic one, for he feels that he can accomplish his purpose by means of his own capabilities when, in fact, he cannot. Thus, the scene also raises the situation above the comic or the opportunistic aspect it might otherwise have had.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_3_chapters_5_to_7.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_13_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 3.scenes 5-7

act 3 scenes 5-7

{"name": "Act III -- Scenes 5-7", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-57", "summary": "Christian tells Roxane, \"I love you.\" \"That,\" she replies, \"is the theme. Embroider.\" Of course, poor Christian can think of nothing else to say. Roxane goes inside in disgust. Christian asks Cyrano to help him. Cyrano hides under Roxane's balcony and whispers to Christian, who repeats the words aloud to Roxane. At last, Cyrano is carried away and speaks aloud eloquently himself, but Roxane still believes it is Christian who is doing the speaking.", "analysis": "Second only to the famous one in Romeo and Juliet, this is probably the most famous balcony scene in literature. In fact, one wonders if Rostand might not have had in mind a parody of Shakespeare's well-known scene as he began writing this. At any rate, it contains many elements of interest. There is some amusement in Cyrano's whispering to Christian. There is poignancy in poor Cyrano's winning Roxane's love, not for himself, but for Christian. There is irony in the fact that he talks to her of honesty, of doing away with artificiality. We wonder if Cyrano could have won her love if he had written eloquent letters in his own name and spoken for himself -- and perhaps brought her to a more mature sense of values."}

Christian, Roxane, the duenna. ROXANE (coming out of Clomire's house, with a company of friends, whom she leaves. Bows and good-byes): Barthenoide!--Alcandre!--Gremione!-- THE DUENNA (bitterly disappointed): We've missed the speech upon the Tender Passion! (Goes into Roxane's house.) ROXANE (still bowing): Urimedonte--adieu! (All bow to Roxane and to each other, and then separate, going up different streets. Roxane suddenly seeing Christian): You! (She goes to him): Evening falls. Let's sit. Speak on. I listen. CHRISTIAN (sits by her on the bench. A silence): Oh! I love you! ROXANE (shutting her eyes): Ay, speak to me of love. CHRISTIAN: I love thee! ROXANE: That's The theme! But vary it. CHRISTIAN: I. . . ROXANE: Vary it! CHRISTIAN: I love you so! ROXANE: Oh! without doubt!--and then?. . . CHRISTIAN: And then--I should be--oh!--so glad--so glad If you would love me!--Roxane, tell me so! ROXANE (with a little grimace): I hoped for cream,--you give me gruel! Say How love possesses you? CHRISTIAN: Oh utterly! ROXANE: Come, come!. . .unknot those tangled sentiments! CHRISTIAN: Your throat I'd kiss it! ROXANE: Christian! CHRISTIAN: I love thee! ROXANE (half-rising): Again! CHRISTIAN (eagerly, detaining her): No, no! I love thee not! ROXANE (reseating herself): 'Tis well! CHRISTIAN: But I adore thee! ROXANE (rising, and going further off): Oh! CHRISTIAN: I am grown stupid! ROXANE (dryly): And that displeases me, almost as much As 'twould displease me if you grew ill-favored. CHRISTIAN: But. . . ROXANE: Rally your poor eloquence that's flown! CHRISTIAN: I. . . ROXANE: Yes, you love me, that I know. Adieu. (She goes toward her house.) CHRISTIAN: Oh, go not yet! I'd tell you-- ROXANE (opening the door): You adore me? I've heard it very oft. No!--Go away! CHRISTIAN: But I would fain. . . (She shuts the door in his face.) CYRANO (who has re-entered unseen): I' faith! It is successful! Christian, Cyrano, two pages. CHRISTIAN: Come to my aid! CYRANO: Not I! CHRISTIAN: But I shall die, Unless at once I win back her fair favor. CYRANO: And how can I, at once, i' th' devil's name, Lesson you in. . . CHRISTIAN (seizing his arm): Oh, she is there! (The window of the balcony is now lighted up.) CYRANO (moved): Her window! CHRISTIAN: Oh! I shall die! CYRANO: Speak lower! CHRISTIAN (in a whisper): I shall die! CYRANO: The night is dark. . . CHRISTIAN: Well! CYRANO: All can be repaired. Although you merit not. Stand there, poor wretch! Fronting the balcony! I'll go beneath And prompt your words to you. . . CHRISTIAN: But. . . CYRANO: Hold your tongue! THE PAGES (reappearing at back--to Cyrano): Ho! CYRANO: Hush! (He signs to them to speak softly.) FIRST PAGE (in a low voice): We've played the serenade you bade To Montfleury! CYRANO (quickly, in a low voice): Go! lurk in ambush there, One at this street corner, and one at that; And if a passer-by should here intrude, Play you a tune! SECOND PAGE: What tune, Sir Gassendist? CYRANO: Gay, if a woman comes,--for a man, sad! (The pages disappear, one at each street corner. To Christian): Call her! CHRISTIAN: Roxane! CYRANO (picking up stones and throwing them at the window): Some pebbles! wait awhile! ROXANE (half-opening the casement): Who calls me? CHRISTIAN: I! ROXANE: Who's that? CHRISTIAN: Christian! ROXANE (disdainfully): Oh! you? CHRISTIAN: I would speak with you. CYRANO (under the balcony--to Christian): Good. Speak soft and low. ROXANE: No, you speak stupidly! CHRISTIAN: Oh, pity me! ROXANE: No! you love me no more! CHRISTIAN (prompted by Cyrano): You say--Great Heaven! I love no more?--when--I--love more and more! ROXANE (who was about to shut the casement, pausing): Hold! 'tis a trifle better! ay, a trifle! CHRISTIAN (same play): Love grew apace, rocked by the anxious beating. . . Of this poor heart, which the cruel wanton boy. . . Took for a cradle! ROXANE (coming out on to the balcony): That is better! But An if you deem that Cupid be so cruel You should have stifled baby-love in's cradle! CHRISTIAN (same play): Ah, Madame, I assayed, but all in vain This. . .new-born babe is a young. . .Hercules! ROXANE: Still better! CHRISTIAN (same play): Thus he strangled in my heart The. . .serpents twain, of. . .Pride. . .and Doubt! ROXANE (leaning over the balcony): Well said! --But why so faltering? Has mental palsy Seized on your faculty imaginative? CYRANO (drawing Christian under the balcony, and slipping into his place): Give place! This waxes critical!. . . ROXANE: To-day. . . Your words are hesitating. CYRANO (imitating Christian--in a whisper): Night has come. . . In the dusk they grope their way to find your ear. ROXANE: But my words find no such impediment. CYRANO: They find their way at once? Small wonder that! For 'tis within my heart they find their home; Bethink how large my heart, how small your ear! And,--from fair heights descending, words fall fast, But mine must mount, Madame, and that takes time! ROXANE: Meseems that your last words have learned to climb. CYRANO: With practice such gymnastic grows less hard! ROXANE: In truth, I seem to speak from distant heights! CYRANO: True, far above; at such a height 'twere death If a hard word from you fell on my heart. ROXANE (moving): I will come down. . . CYRANO (hastily): No! ROXANE (showing him the bench under the balcony): Mount then on the bench! CYRANO (starting back alarmed): No! ROXANE: How, you will not? CYRANO (more and more moved): Stay awhile! 'Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing! ROXANE: Why--unseen? CYRANO: Ay, it is sweet! Half hidden,--half revealed-- You see the dark folds of my shrouding cloak, And I, the glimmering whiteness of your dress: I but a shadow--you a radiance fair! Know you what such a moment holds for me? If ever I were eloquent. . . ROXANE: You were! CYRANO: Yet never till to-night my speech has sprung Straight from my heart as now it springs. ROXANE: Why not? CYRANO: Till now I spoke haphazard. . . ROXANE: What? CYRANO: Your eyes Have beams that turn men dizzy!--But to-night Methinks I shall find speech for the first time! ROXANE: 'Tis true, your voice rings with a tone that's new. CYRANO (coming nearer, passionately): Ay, a new tone! In the tender, sheltering dusk I dare to be myself for once,--at last! (He stops, falters): What say I? I know not!--Oh, pardon me-- It thrills me,--'tis so sweet, so novel. . . ROXANE: How? So novel? CYRANO (off his balance, trying to find the thread of his sentence): Ay,--to be at last sincere; Till now, my chilled heart, fearing to be mocked. . . ROXANE: Mocked, and for what? CYRANO: For its mad beating!--Ay, My heart has clothed itself with witty words, To shroud itself from curious eyes:--impelled At times to aim at a star, I stay my hand, And, fearing ridicule,--cull a wild flower! ROXANE: A wild flower's sweet. CYRANO: Ay, but to-night--the star! ROXANE: Oh! never have you spoken thus before! CYRANO: If, leaving Cupid's arrows, quivers, torches, We turned to seek for sweeter--fresher things! Instead of sipping in a pygmy glass Dull fashionable waters,--did we try How the soul slakes its thirst in fearless draught By drinking from the river's flooding brim! ROXANE: But wit?. . . CYRANO: If I have used it to arrest you At the first starting,--now, 'twould be an outrage, An insult--to the perfumed Night--to Nature-- To speak fine words that garnish vain love-letters! Look up but at her stars! The quiet Heaven Will ease our hearts of all things artificial; I fear lest, 'midst the alchemy we're skilled in The truth of sentiment dissolve and vanish,-- The soul exhausted by these empty pastimes, The gain of fine things be the loss of all things! ROXANE: But wit? I say. . . CYRANO: In love 'tis crime,--'tis hateful! Turning frank loving into subtle fencing! At last the moment comes, inevitable,-- --Oh, woe for those who never know that moment! When feeling love exists in us, ennobling, Each well-weighed word is futile and soul-saddening! ROXANE: Well, if that moment's come for us--suppose it! What words would serve you? CYRANO: All, all, all, whatever That came to me, e'en as they came, I'd fling them In a wild cluster, not a careful bouquet. I love thee! I am mad! I love, I stifle! Thy name is in my heart as in a sheep-bell, And as I ever tremble, thinking of thee, Ever the bell shakes, ever thy name ringeth! All things of thine I mind, for I love all things; I know that last year on the twelfth of May-month, To walk abroad, one day you changed your hair-plaits! I am so used to take your hair for daylight That,--like as when the eye stares on the sun's disk, One sees long after a red blot on all things-- So, when I quit thy beams, my dazzled vision Sees upon all things a blonde stain imprinted. ROXANE (agitated): Why, this is love indeed!. . . CYRANO: Ay, true, the feeling Which fills me, terrible and jealous, truly Love,--which is ever sad amid its transports! Love,--and yet, strangely, not a selfish passion! I for your joy would gladly lay mine own down, --E'en though you never were to know it,--never! --If but at times I might--far off and lonely,-- Hear some gay echo of the joy I bought you! Each glance of thine awakes in me a virtue,-- A novel, unknown valor. Dost begin, sweet, To understand? So late, dost understand me? Feel'st thou my soul, here, through the darkness mounting? Too fair the night! Too fair, too fair the moment! That I should speak thus, and that you should hearken! Too fair! In moments when my hopes rose proudest, I never hoped such guerdon. Naught is left me But to die now! Have words of mine the power To make you tremble,--throned there in the branches? Ay, like a leaf among the leaves, you tremble! You tremble! For I feel,--an if you will it, Or will it not,--your hand's beloved trembling Thrill through the branches, down your sprays of jasmine! (He kisses passionately one of the hanging tendrils.) ROXANE: Ay! I am trembling, weeping!--I am thine! Thou hast conquered all of me! CYRANO: Then let death come! 'Tis I, 'tis I myself, who conquered thee! One thing, but one, I dare to ask-- CHRISTIAN (under the balcony): A kiss! ROXANE (drawing back): What? CYRANO: Oh! ROXANE: You ask. . .? CYRANO: I. . . (To Christian, whispering): Fool! you go too quick! CHRISTIAN: Since she is moved thus--I will profit by it! CYRANO (to Roxane): My words sprang thoughtlessly, but now I see-- Shame on me!--I was too presumptuous. ROXANE (a little chilled): How quickly you withdraw. CYRANO: Yes, I withdraw Without withdrawing! Hurt I modesty? If so--the kiss I asked--oh, grant it not. CHRISTIAN (to Cyrano, pulling him by his cloak): Why? CYRANO: Silence, Christian! Hush! ROXANE (leaning over): What whisper you? CYRANO: I chid myself for my too bold advances; Said, 'Silence, Christian!' (The lutes begin to play): Hark! Wait awhile,. . . Steps come! (Roxane shuts the window. Cyrano listens to the lutes, one of which plays a merry, the other a melancholy, tune): Why, they play sad--then gay--then sad! What? Neither man nor woman?--oh! a monk! (Enter a capuchin friar, with a lantern. He goes from house to house, looking at every door.) Cyrano, Christian, a capuchin friar. CYRANO (to the friar): What do you, playing at Diogenes? THE FRIAR: I seek the house of Madame. . . CHRISTIAN: Oh! plague take him! THE FRIAR: Madeleine Robin. . . CHRISTIAN: What would he?. . . CYRANO (pointing to a street at the back): This way! Straight on. . . THE FRIAR I thank you, and, in your intention Will tell my rosary to its last bead. (He goes out.) CYRANO: Good luck! My blessings rest upon your cowl! (He goes back to Christian.)

Act III -- Scenes 5-7

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-57

Christian tells Roxane, "I love you." "That," she replies, "is the theme. Embroider." Of course, poor Christian can think of nothing else to say. Roxane goes inside in disgust. Christian asks Cyrano to help him. Cyrano hides under Roxane's balcony and whispers to Christian, who repeats the words aloud to Roxane. At last, Cyrano is carried away and speaks aloud eloquently himself, but Roxane still believes it is Christian who is doing the speaking.

Second only to the famous one in Romeo and Juliet, this is probably the most famous balcony scene in literature. In fact, one wonders if Rostand might not have had in mind a parody of Shakespeare's well-known scene as he began writing this. At any rate, it contains many elements of interest. There is some amusement in Cyrano's whispering to Christian. There is poignancy in poor Cyrano's winning Roxane's love, not for himself, but for Christian. There is irony in the fact that he talks to her of honesty, of doing away with artificiality. We wonder if Cyrano could have won her love if he had written eloquent letters in his own name and spoken for himself -- and perhaps brought her to a more mature sense of values.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_3_chapters_8_to_10.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_14_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 3.scenes 8-10

act 3 scenes 8-10

{"name": "Act III -- Scenes 8-10", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-810", "summary": "A monk comes by, looking for Roxane's house, and Cyrano misdirects him. Christian wants Roxane's kiss, climbs the balcony, and kisses her. The monk returns. He is delivering a letter from De Guiche to Roxane. De Guiche has sent his regiment on but has stayed behind himself. The letter instructs her that he is coining to see her. She tells the monk that De Guiche's letter orders that she and Christian be married immediately. She pretends that this is against her will and the monk is completely convinced. The monk, Christian, and Roxane go inside for the ceremony, while Cyrano waits outside to divert De Guiche.", "analysis": "It might be worthwhile at this point to remind the reader briefly about the traditional practices of scene division. This section, as well as the preceding section; describes portions of the play that are very closely knit. Then, why divide each of the sections into three scenes? As mentioned earlier, it is traditional in drama to begin and end scenes with the entrance and exit of a reasonably important character, and such is the case here. Though there are no real interruptions in these sections, there are certain entrances and exits that would be marked as scene divisions in some texts. If the student is using a text without scene divisions, he can easily locate the portion of an act dealt with in the summaries by simply comparing the actions described with his text. Roxane is very quick-witted in these scenes. She seems a little hasty in her wish to marry a man she sent away a short time earlier because he could not embroider upon the theme of love. The fact that De Guiche is pressing her may have something to do with her decision. At any rate, Rostand has managed to make the whole thing quite believable. We already know of De Guiche's desire for Roxane and of his power. This seems a simple and logical way out of all the difficulties Roxane and Christian would have if they married in a more conventional manner. It is necessary that they be married to explain Roxane's behavior in Acts IV and V."}

Cyrano, Christian. CHRISTIAN: Oh! win for me that kiss. . . CYRANO: No! CHRISTIAN: Soon or late!. . . CYRANO: 'Tis true! The moment of intoxication-- Of madness,--when your mouths are sure to meet Thanks to your fair mustache--and her rose lips! (To himself): I'd fainer it should come thanks to. . . (A sound of shutters reopening. Christian goes in again under the balcony.) Cyrano, Christian, Roxane. ROXANE (coming out on the balcony): Still there? We spoke of a. . . CYRANO: A kiss! The word is sweet. I see not why your lip should shrink from it; If the word burns it,--what would the kiss do? Oh! let it not your bashfulness affright; Have you not, all this time, insensibly, Left badinage aside, and unalarmed Glided from smile to sigh,--from sigh to weeping? Glide gently, imperceptibly, still onward-- From tear to kiss,--a moment's thrill!--a heartbeat! ROXANE: Hush! hush! CYRANO: A kiss, when all is said,--what is it? An oath that's ratified,--a sealed promise, A heart's avowal claiming confirmation,-- A rose-dot on the 'i' of 'adoration,'-- A secret that to mouth, not ear, is whispered,-- Brush of a bee's wing, that makes time eternal,-- Communion perfumed like the spring's wild flowers,-- The heart's relieving in the heart's outbreathing, When to the lips the soul's flood rises, brimming! ROXANE: Hush! hush! CYRANO: A kiss, Madame, is honorable: The Queen of France, to a most favored lord Did grant a kiss--the Queen herself! ROXANE: What then? CYRANO (speaking more warmly): Buckingham suffered dumbly,--so have I,-- Adored his Queen, as loyally as I,-- Was sad, but faithful,--so am I. . . ROXANE: And you Are fair as Buckingham! CYRANO (aside--suddenly cooled): True,--I forgot! ROXANE: Must I then bid thee mount to cull this flower? CYRANO (pushing Christian toward the balcony): Mount! ROXANE: This heart-breathing!. . . CYRANO: Mount! ROXANE: This brush of bee's wing!. . . CYRANO: Mount! CHRISTIAN (hesitating): But I feel now, as though 'twere ill done! ROXANE: This moment infinite!. . . CYRANO (still pushing him): Come, blockhead, mount! (Christian springs forward, and by means of the bench, the branches, and the pillars, climbs to the balcony and strides over it.) CHRISTIAN: Ah, Roxane! (He takes her in his arms, and bends over her lips.) CYRANO: Aie! Strange pain that wrings my heart! The kiss, love's feast, so near! I, Lazarus, Lie at the gate in darkness. Yet to me Falls still a crumb or two from the rich man's board-- Ay, 'tis my heart receives thee, Roxane--mine! For on the lips you press you kiss as well The words I spoke just now!--my words--my words! (The lutes play): A sad air,--a gay air: the monk! (He begins to run as if he came from a long way off, and cries out): Hola! ROXANE: Who is it? CYRANO: I--I was but passing by. . . Is Christian there? CHRISTIAN (astonished): Cyrano! ROXANE: Good-day, cousin! CYRANO: Cousin, good-day! ROXANE: I'm coming! (She disappears into the house. At the back re-enter the friar.) CHRISTIAN (seeing him): Back again! (He follows Roxane.) Cyrano, Christian, Roxane, the friar, Ragueneau. THE FRIAR: 'Tis here,--I'm sure of it--Madame Madeleine Robin. CYRANO: Why, you said Ro-LIN. THE FRIAR: No, not I. B,I,N,BIN! ROXANE (appearing on the threshold, followed by Ragueneau, who carries a lantern, and Christian): What is't? THE FRIAR: A letter. CHRISTIAN: What? THE FRIAR (to Roxane): Oh, it can boot but a holy business! 'Tis from a worthy lord. . . ROXANE (to Christian): De Guiche! CHRISTIAN: He dares. . . ROXANE: Oh, he will not importune me forever! (Unsealing the letter): I love you,--therefore-- (She reads in a low voice by the aid of Ragueneau's lantern): 'Lady, The drums beat; My regiment buckles its harness on And starts; but I,--they deem me gone before-- But I stay. I have dared to disobey Your mandate. I am here in convent walls. I come to you to-night. By this poor monk-- A simple fool who knows not what he bears-- I send this missive to apprise your ear. Your lips erewhile have smiled on me, too sweet: I go not ere I've seen them once again! I would be private; send each soul away, Receive alone him,--whose great boldness you Have deigned, I hope, to pardon, ere he asks,-- He who is ever your--et cetera.' (To the monk): Father, this is the matter of the letter:-- (All come near her, and she reads aloud): 'Lady, The Cardinal's wish is law; albeit It be to you unwelcome. For this cause I send these lines--to your fair ear addressed-- By a holy man, discreet, intelligent: It is our will that you receive from him, In your own house, the marriage (She turns the page): benediction Straightway, this night. Unknown to all the world Christian becomes your husband. Him we send. He is abhorrent to your choice. Let be. Resign yourself, and this obedience Will be by Heaven well recompensed. Receive, Fair lady, all assurance of respect, From him who ever was, and still remains, Your humble and obliged--et cetera.' THE FRIAR (with great delight): O worthy lord! I knew naught was to fear; It could be but holy business! ROXANE (to Christian, in a low voice): Am I not apt at reading letters? CHRISTIAN: Hum! ROXANE (aloud, with despair): But this is horrible! THE FRIAR (who has turned his lantern on Cyrano): 'Tis you? CHRISTIAN: 'Tis I! THE FRIAR (turning the light on to him, and as if a doubt struck him on seeing his beauty): But. . . ROXANE (quickly): I have overlooked the postscript--see:-- 'Give twenty pistoles for the Convent.' THE FRIAR: . . .Oh! Most worthy lord! (To Roxane): Submit you? ROXANE (with a martyr's look): I submit! (While Ragueneau opens the door, and Christian invites the friar to enter, she whispers to Cyrano): Oh, keep De Guiche at bay! He will be here! Let him not enter till. . . CYRANO: I understand! (To the friar): What time need you to tie the marriage-knot? THE FRIAR: A quarter of an hour. CYRANO (pushing them all toward the house): Go! I stay. ROXANE (to Christian): Come!. . . (They enter.) CYRANO: Now, how to detain De Guiche so long? (He jumps on the bench, climbs to the balcony by the wall): Come!. . .up I go!. . .I have my plan!. . . (The lutes begin to play a very sad air): What, ho! (The tremolo grows more and more weird): It is a man! ay! 'tis a man this time! (He is on the balcony, pulls his hat over his eyes, takes off his sword, wraps himself in his cloak, then leans over): 'Tis not too high! (He strides across the balcony, and drawing to him a long branch of one of the trees that are by the garden wall, he hangs on to it with both hands, ready to let himself fall): I'll shake this atmosphere!

Act III -- Scenes 8-10

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-810

A monk comes by, looking for Roxane's house, and Cyrano misdirects him. Christian wants Roxane's kiss, climbs the balcony, and kisses her. The monk returns. He is delivering a letter from De Guiche to Roxane. De Guiche has sent his regiment on but has stayed behind himself. The letter instructs her that he is coining to see her. She tells the monk that De Guiche's letter orders that she and Christian be married immediately. She pretends that this is against her will and the monk is completely convinced. The monk, Christian, and Roxane go inside for the ceremony, while Cyrano waits outside to divert De Guiche.

It might be worthwhile at this point to remind the reader briefly about the traditional practices of scene division. This section, as well as the preceding section; describes portions of the play that are very closely knit. Then, why divide each of the sections into three scenes? As mentioned earlier, it is traditional in drama to begin and end scenes with the entrance and exit of a reasonably important character, and such is the case here. Though there are no real interruptions in these sections, there are certain entrances and exits that would be marked as scene divisions in some texts. If the student is using a text without scene divisions, he can easily locate the portion of an act dealt with in the summaries by simply comparing the actions described with his text. Roxane is very quick-witted in these scenes. She seems a little hasty in her wish to marry a man she sent away a short time earlier because he could not embroider upon the theme of love. The fact that De Guiche is pressing her may have something to do with her decision. At any rate, Rostand has managed to make the whole thing quite believable. We already know of De Guiche's desire for Roxane and of his power. This seems a simple and logical way out of all the difficulties Roxane and Christian would have if they married in a more conventional manner. It is necessary that they be married to explain Roxane's behavior in Acts IV and V.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_3_chapters_11_to_12.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_15_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 3.scenes 11-12

act 3 scenes 11-12

{"name": "Act III -- Scenes 11-12", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-1112", "summary": "Cyrano has climbed to the top of the wall, and when De Guiche enters, Cyrano swings from a branch and drops down in front of him. He tells De Guiche that he came from the moon and asks where he is. In spite of himself, De Guiche is amused. When Cyrano says that he has invented six ways to travel to the moon, De Guiche is curious enough to listen to what they are. Then, after telling him the six ways, Cyrano says, in his own voice, that the quarter of an hour is up, and the marriage completed. He believes there is nothing De Guiche can do about the marriage. De Guiche, however, gains revenge by sending the cadets to the front immediately.", "analysis": "The brilliant bit of nonsense in Scene 11 is an opportunity for Cyrano to show off yet another of his interests -- science. But, before the reader begins to feel that Rostand is exaggerating Cyrano's varied interests, he should remember that among the many talents of the historical Cyrano was that of writing science fiction. Poor Cyrano not only wins the lady for Christian, but also must stall De Guicb while the couple is being married. He promises that \"Christian\" will write to her often. Because Rostand has De Guiche on the scene, has prepared us for his anger, and has already introduced the war, he encounters no difficulty in separating the young couple immediately, before they have a moment alone together. Thus, Roxane never has an opportunity to know her husband without Cyrano's words to make him seem more facile of tongue."}

Cyrano, De Guiche. DE GUICHE (who enters, masked, feeling his way in the dark): What can that cursed Friar be about? CYRANO: The devil!. . .If he knows my voice! (Letting go with one hand, he pretends to turn an invisible key. Solemnly): Cric! Crac! Assume thou, Cyrano, to serve the turn, The accent of thy native Bergerac!. . . DE GUICHE (looking at the house): 'Tis there. I see dim,--this mask hinders me! (He is about to enter, when Cyrano leaps from the balcony, holding on to the branch, which bends, dropping him between the door and De Guiche; he pretends to fall heavily, as from a great height, and lies flat on the ground, motionless, as if stunned. De Guiche starts back): What's this? (When he looks up, the branch has sprung back into its place. He sees only the sky, and is lost in amazement): Where fell that man from? CYRANO (sitting up, and speaking with a Gascon accent): From the moon! DE GUICHE: From?. . . CYRANO (in a dreamy voice): What's o'clock? DE GUICHE: He's lost his mind, for sure! CYRANO: What hour? What country this? What month? What day? DE GUICHE: But. . . CYRANO: I am stupefied! DE GUICHE: Sir! CYRANO: Like a bomb I fell from the moon! DE GUICHE (impatiently): Come now! CYRANO (rising, in a terrible voice): I say,--the moon! DE GUICHE (recoiling): Good, good! let it be so!. . .He's raving mad! CYRANO (walking up to him): I say from the moon! I mean no metaphor!. . . DE GUICHE: But. . . CYRANO: Was't a hundred years--a minute, since? --I cannot guess what time that fall embraced!-- That I was in that saffron-colored ball? DE GUICHE (shrugging his shoulders): Good! let me pass! CYRANO (intercepting him): Where am I? Tell the truth! Fear not to tell! Oh, spare me not! Where? where? Have I fallen like a shooting star? DE GUICHE: Morbleu! CYRANO: The fall was lightning-quick! no time to choose Where I should fall--I know not where it be! Oh, tell me! Is it on a moon or earth, that my posterior weight has landed me? DE GUICHE: I tell you, Sir. . . CYRANO (with a screech of terror, which makes De Guiche start back): No? Can it be? I'm on A planet where men have black faces? DE GUICHE (putting a hand to his face): What? CYRANO (feigning great alarm): Am I in Africa? A native you? DE GUICHE (who has remembered his mask): This mask of mine. . . CYRANO (pretending to be reassured): In Venice? ha!--or Rome? DE GUICHE (trying to pass): A lady waits. . CYRANO (quite reassured): Oh-ho! I am in Paris! DE GUICHE (smiling in spite of himself): The fool is comical! CYRANO: You laugh? DE GUICHE: I laugh, But would get by! CYRANO (beaming with joy): I have shot back to Paris! (Quite at ease, laughing, dusting himself, bowing): Come--pardon me--by the last water-spout, Covered with ether,--accident of travel! My eyes still full of star-dust, and my spurs Encumbered by the planets' filaments! (Picking something off his sleeve): Ha! on my doublet?--ah, a comet's hair!. . . (He puffs as if to blow it away.) DE GUICHE (beside himself): Sir!. . . CYRANO (just as he is about to pass, holds out his leg as if to show him something and stops him): In my leg--the calf--there is a tooth Of the Great Bear, and, passing Neptune close, I would avoid his trident's point, and fell, Thus sitting, plump, right in the Scales! My weight Is marked, still registered, up there in heaven! (Hurriedly preventing De Guiche from passing, and detaining him by the button of his doublet): I swear to you that if you squeezed my nose It would spout milk! DE GUICHE: Milk? CYRANO: From the Milky Way! DE GUICHE: Oh, go to hell! CYRANO (crossing his arms): I fall, Sir, out of heaven! Now, would you credit it, that as I fell I saw that Sirius wears a nightcap? True! (Confidentially): The other Bear is still too small to bite. (Laughing): I went through the Lyre, but I snapped a cord; (Grandiloquent): I mean to write the whole thing in a book; The small gold stars, that, wrapped up in my cloak, I carried safe away at no small risks, Will serve for asterisks i' the printed page! DE GUICHE: Come, make an end! I want. . . CYRANO: Oh-ho! You are sly! DE GUICHE: Sir! CYRANO: You would worm all out of me!--the way The moon is made, and if men breathe and live In its rotund cucurbita? DE GUICHE (angrily): No, no! I want. . . CYRANO: Ha, ha!--to know how I got up? Hark, it was by a method all my own. DE GUICHE (wearied): He's mad! CYRANO(contemptuously): No! not for me the stupid eagle Of Regiomontanus, nor the timid Pigeon of Archytas--neither of those! DE GUICHE: Ay, 'tis a fool! But 'tis a learned fool! CYRANO: No imitator I of other men! (De Guiche has succeeded in getting by, and goes toward Roxane's door. Cyrano follows him, ready to stop him by force): Six novel methods, all, this brain invented! DE GUICHE (turning round): Six? CYRANO (volubly): First, with body naked as your hand, Festooned about with crystal flacons, full O' th' tears the early morning dew distils; My body to the sun's fierce rays exposed To let it suck me up, as 't sucks the dew! DE GUICHE (surprised, making one step toward Cyrano): Ah! that makes one! CYRANO (stepping back, and enticing him further away): And then, the second way, To generate wind--for my impetus-- To rarefy air, in a cedar case, By mirrors placed icosahedron-wise. DE GUICHE (making another step): Two! CYRANO (still stepping backward): Or--for I have some mechanic skill-- To make a grasshopper, with springs of steel, And launch myself by quick succeeding fires Saltpeter-fed to the stars' pastures blue! DE GUICHE (unconsciously following him and counting on his fingers): Three! CYRANO: Or (since fumes have property to mount)-- To charge a globe with fumes, sufficiently To carry me aloft! DE GUICHE (same play, more and more astonished): Well, that makes four! CYRANO: Or smear myself with marrow from a bull, Since, at the lowest point of Zodiac, Phoebus well loves to suck that marrow up! DE GUICHE (amazed): Five! CYRANO (who, while speaking, had drawn him to the other side of the square near a bench): Sitting on an iron platform--thence To throw a magnet in the air. This is A method well conceived--the magnet flown, Infallibly the iron will pursue: Then quick! relaunch your magnet, and you thus Can mount and mount unmeasured distances! DE GUICHE: Here are six excellent expedients! Which of the six chose you? CYRANO: Why, none!--a seventh! DE GUICHE: Astonishing! What was it? CYRANO: I'll recount. DE GUICHE: This wild eccentric becomes interesting! CYRANO (making a noise like the waves, with weird gestures): Houuh! Houuh! DE GUICHE: Well. CYRANO: You have guessed? DE GUICHE: Not I! CYRANO: The tide! I' th' witching hour when the moon woos the wave, I laid me, fresh from a sea-bath, on the shore-- And, failing not to put head foremost--for The hair holds the sea-water in its mesh-- I rose in air, straight! straight! like angel's flight, And mounted, mounted, gently, effortless,. . . When lo! a sudden shock! Then. . . DE GUICHE (overcome by curiosity, sitting down on the bench): Then? CYRANO: Oh! then. . . (Suddenly returning to his natural voice): The quarter's gone--I'll hinder you no more: The marriage-vows are made. DE GUICHE (springing up): What? Am I mad? That voice? (The house-door opens. Lackeys appear carrying lighted candelabra. Light. Cyrano gracefully uncovers): That nose--Cyrano? CYRANO (bowing): Cyrano. While we were chatting, they have plighted troth. DE GUICHE: Who? (He turns round. Tableau. Behind the lackeys appear Roxane and Christian, holding each other by the hand. The friar follows them, smiling. Ragueneau also holds a candlestick. The duenna closes the rear, bewildered, having made a hasty toilet): Heavens! The same. Roxane, Christian, the friar, Ragueneau, lackeys, the duenna. DE GUICHE (to Roxane): You? (Recognizing Christian, in amazement): He? (Bowing, with admiration, to Roxane): Cunningly contrived! (To Cyrano): My compliments--Sir Apparatus-maker! Your story would arrest at Peter's gate Saints eager for their Paradise! Note well The details. 'Faith! They'd make a stirring book! CYRANO (bowing): I shall not fail to follow your advice. THE FRIAR (showing with satisfaction the two lovers to De Guiche): A handsome couple, son, made one by you! DE GUICHE (with a freezing look): Ay! (To Roxane): Bid your bridegroom, Madame, fond farewell. ROXANE: Why so? DE GUICHE (to Christian): Even now the regiment departs. Join it! ROXANE: It goes to battle? DE GUICHE: Without doubt. ROXANE: But the Cadets go not? DE GUICHE: Oh ay! they go. (Drawing out the paper he had put in his pocket): Here is the order. (To Christian): Baron, bear it, quick! ROXANE (throwing herself in Christian's arms): Christian! DE GUICHE (sneeringly to Cyrano): The wedding-night is far, methinks! CYRANO (aside): He thinks to give me pain of death by this! CHRISTIAN (to Roxane): Oh! once again! Your lips! CYRANO: Come, come, enough! CHRISTIAN (still kissing Roxane): --'Tis hard to leave her, you know not. . . CYRANO (trying to draw him away): I know. (Sound of drums beating a march in the distance.) DE GUICHE: The regiment starts! ROXANE (To Cyrano, holding back Christian, whom Cyrano is drawing away): Oh!--I trust him you! Promise me that no risks shall put his life In danger! CYRANO: I will try my best, but promise. . . That I cannot! ROXANE: But swear he shall be prudent? CYRANO: Again, I'll do my best, but. . . ROXANE: In the siege Let him not suffer! CYRANO: All that man can do, I. . . ROXANE: That he shall be faithful! CYRANO: Doubtless, but. . . ROXANE: That he will write oft? CYRANO (pausing): That, I promise you! Curtain.

Act III -- Scenes 11-12

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iii-8212-scenes-1112

Cyrano has climbed to the top of the wall, and when De Guiche enters, Cyrano swings from a branch and drops down in front of him. He tells De Guiche that he came from the moon and asks where he is. In spite of himself, De Guiche is amused. When Cyrano says that he has invented six ways to travel to the moon, De Guiche is curious enough to listen to what they are. Then, after telling him the six ways, Cyrano says, in his own voice, that the quarter of an hour is up, and the marriage completed. He believes there is nothing De Guiche can do about the marriage. De Guiche, however, gains revenge by sending the cadets to the front immediately.

The brilliant bit of nonsense in Scene 11 is an opportunity for Cyrano to show off yet another of his interests -- science. But, before the reader begins to feel that Rostand is exaggerating Cyrano's varied interests, he should remember that among the many talents of the historical Cyrano was that of writing science fiction. Poor Cyrano not only wins the lady for Christian, but also must stall De Guicb while the couple is being married. He promises that "Christian" will write to her often. Because Rostand has De Guiche on the scene, has prepared us for his anger, and has already introduced the war, he encounters no difficulty in separating the young couple immediately, before they have a moment alone together. Thus, Roxane never has an opportunity to know her husband without Cyrano's words to make him seem more facile of tongue.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/35.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_16_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 4.scene 1

act 4 scene 1

{"name": "Act IV -- Scene 1", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-1", "summary": "This act takes place in the camp of the Gascony Guards at the siege of Arras. The soldiers are all suffering from hunger, for while the French are besieging Arras, the Spanish have encircled them and no supplies can be brought to them through the lines. Cyrano, at great risk to his life, has found a way to get across the lines and he does so in order to send \"Christian's\" letters to Roxane. The reason that he does not bring food on any of these trips is that it would be too bulky for him to carry and still be able to evade the Spaniards. Cyrano says that he thinks there must be a change soon, that the company will either eat or die: the Spanish are planning something.", "analysis": "Act III has been a light, often humorous, act. Now, however, the mood undergoes a very definite change. This scene sets that mood by showing us the state of the war and indicating that the situation at Arras is very serious. The atmosphere of gloom deepens throughout the act, with only one touch of lightness. How typical that Cyrano's dangerous journeys through the enemy lines are made for spiritual and not physical reasons! Keeping the promise of frequent letters, which he made for Christian in Act III, Scene 12, does not seem sufficient justification, especially because he cannot bring food back with him. Perhaps he feels that once the war is over he will never have another chance to tell Roxane of his love, and he wants to do that more than anything else, even if he must sign Christian's name to his own letters."}

Christian, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, Le Bret, the cadets, then Cyrano. LE BRET: 'Tis terrible. CARBON: Not a morsel left. LE BRET: Mordioux! CARBON (making a sign that he should speak lower): Curse under your breath. You will awake them. (To the cadets): Hush! Sleep on. (To Le Bret): He who sleeps, dines! LE BRET: But that is sorry comfort for the sleepless!. . . What starvation! (Firing is heard in the distance.) CARBON: Oh, plague take their firing! 'Twill wake my sons. (To the cadets, who lift up their heads): Sleep on! (Firing is again heard, nearer this time.) A CADET (moving): The devil!. . .Again. CARBON: 'Tis nothing! 'Tis Cyrano coming back! (Those who have lifted up their heads prepare to sleep again.) A SENTINEL (from without): Ventrebieu! Who goes there? THE VOICE Of CYRANO: Bergerac. The SENTINEL (who is on the redoubt): Ventrebieu! Who goes there? CYRANO (appearing at the top): Bergerac, idiot! (He comes down; Le Bret advances anxiously to meet him.) LE BRET: Heavens! CYRANO (making signs that he should not awake the others): Hush! LE BRET: Wounded? CYRANO: Oh! you know it has become their custom to shoot at me every morning and to miss me. LE BRET: This passes all! To take letters at each day's dawn. To risk. . . CYRANO (stopping before Christian): I promised he should write often. (He looks at him): He sleeps. How pale he is! But how handsome still, despite his sufferings. If his poor little lady-love knew that he is dying of hunger. . . LE BRET: Get you quick to bed. CYRANO: Nay, never scold, Le Bret. I ran but little risk. I have found me a spot to pass the Spanish lines, where each night they lie drunk. LE BRET: You should try to bring us back provision. CYRANO: A man must carry no weight who would get by there! But there will be surprise for us this night. The French will eat or die. . .if I mistake not! LE BRET: Oh!. . .tell me!. . . CYRANO: Nay, not yet. I am not certain. . .You will see! CARBON: It is disgraceful that we should starve while we're besieging! LE BRET: Alas, how full of complication is this siege of Arras! To think that while we are besieging, we should ourselves be caught in a trap and besieged by the Cardinal Infante of Spain. CYRANO: It were well done if he should be besieged in his turn. LE BRET: I am in earnest. CYRANO: Oh! indeed! LE BRET: To think you risk a life so precious. . .for the sake of a letter. . .Thankless one. (Seeing him turning to enter the tent): Where are you going? CYRANO: I am going to write another. (He enters the tent and disappears.)

Act IV -- Scene 1

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-1

This act takes place in the camp of the Gascony Guards at the siege of Arras. The soldiers are all suffering from hunger, for while the French are besieging Arras, the Spanish have encircled them and no supplies can be brought to them through the lines. Cyrano, at great risk to his life, has found a way to get across the lines and he does so in order to send "Christian's" letters to Roxane. The reason that he does not bring food on any of these trips is that it would be too bulky for him to carry and still be able to evade the Spaniards. Cyrano says that he thinks there must be a change soon, that the company will either eat or die: the Spanish are planning something.

Act III has been a light, often humorous, act. Now, however, the mood undergoes a very definite change. This scene sets that mood by showing us the state of the war and indicating that the situation at Arras is very serious. The atmosphere of gloom deepens throughout the act, with only one touch of lightness. How typical that Cyrano's dangerous journeys through the enemy lines are made for spiritual and not physical reasons! Keeping the promise of frequent letters, which he made for Christian in Act III, Scene 12, does not seem sufficient justification, especially because he cannot bring food back with him. Perhaps he feels that once the war is over he will never have another chance to tell Roxane of his love, and he wants to do that more than anything else, even if he must sign Christian's name to his own letters.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_4_chapters_2_to_3.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_17_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 4.scenes 2-3

act 4 scenes 2-3

{"name": "Act IV -- Scenes 2-3", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scenes-23", "summary": "The cadets complain of hunger. Cyrano tries to entertain them with his wit, but when even he cannot cheer them up, he asks an old piper to play some familiar Provencal songs for them and speaks to them of home. When Carbon protests that Cyrano is making them cry, Cyrano responds that it is nobler to cry from homesickness than it is to cry from hunger, because homesickness is moral and hunger is physical.", "analysis": "These scenes provide Rostand the opportunity to work in some of the lovely folk songs from southern France, and they also point up Cyrano's leadership among the cadets. It is he who is resourceful enough to cheer them. The observation that it is nobler to cry from homesickness than hunger is an interesting bit of philosophy. It is also good psychology as well, since a desire to live to return home is more likely to sustain them than self-pity."}

The same, all but Cyrano. The day is breaking in a rosy light. The town of Arras is golden in the horizon. The report of cannon is heard in the distance, followed immediately by the beating of drums far away to the left. Other drums are heard much nearer. Sounds of stirring in the camp. Voices of officers in the distance. CARBON (sighing): The reveille! (The cadets move and stretch themselves): Nourishing sleep! Thou art at an end!. . .I know well what will be their first cry! A CADET (sitting up): I am so hungry! ANOTHER: I am dying of hunger. TOGETHER: Oh! CARBON: Up with you! THIRD CADET: --Cannot move a limb. FOURTH CADET: Nor can I. THE FIRST (looking at himself in a bit of armor): My tongue is yellow. The air at this season of the year is hard to digest. ANOTHER: My coronet for a bit of Chester! ANOTHER: If none can furnish to my gaster wherewith to make a pint of chyle, I shall retire to my tent--like Achilles! ANOTHER: Oh! something! were it but a crust! CARBON (going to the tent and calling softly): Cyrano! ALL THE CADETS: We are dying! CARBON (continuing to speak under his breath at the opening of the tent): Come to my aid, you, who have the art of quick retort and gay jest. Come, hearten them up. SECOND CADET (rushing toward another who is munching something): What are you crunching there? FIRST CADET: Cannon-wads soaked in axle-grease! 'Tis poor hunting round about Arras! A CADET (entering): I have been after game. ANOTHER (following him): And I after fish. ALL (rushing to the two newcomers): Well! what have you brought?--a pheasant?--a carp?--Come, show us quick! THE ANGLER: A gudgeon! THE SPORTSMAN: A sparrow! ALL TOGETHER (beside themselves): 'Tis more than can be borne! We will mutiny! CARBON: Cyrano! Come to my help. (The daylight has now come.) The SAME. Cyrano. CYRANO (appearing from the tent, very calm, with a pen stuck behind his ear and a book in his hand): What is wrong? (Silence. To the first cadet): Why drag you your legs so sorrowfully? THE CADET: I have something in my heels which weighs them down. CYRANO: And what may that be? THE CADET: My stomach! CYRANO: So have I, 'faith! THE CADET: It must be in your way? CYRANO: Nay, I am all the taller. A THIRD: My stomach's hollow. CYRANO: 'Faith, 'twill make a fine drum to sound the assault. ANOTHER: I have a ringing in my ears. CYRANO: No, no, 'tis false; a hungry stomach has no ears. ANOTHER: Oh, to eat something--something oily! CYRANO (pulling off the cadet's helmet and holding it out to him): Behold your salad! ANOTHER: What, in God's name, can we devour? CYRANO (throwing him the book which he is carrying): The 'Iliad'. ANOTHER: The first minister in Paris has his four meals a day! CYRANO: 'Twere courteous an he sent you a few partridges! THE SAME: And why not? with wine, too! CYRANO: A little Burgundy. Richelieu, s'il vous plait! THE SAME: He could send it by one of his friars. CYRANO: Ay! by His Eminence Joseph himself. ANOTHER: I am as ravenous as an ogre! CYRANO: Eat your patience, then. THE FIRST CADET (shrugging his shoulders): Always your pointed word! CYRANO: Ay, pointed words! I would fain die thus, some soft summer eve, Making a pointed word for a good cause. --To make a soldier's end by soldier's sword, Wielded by some brave adversary--die On blood-stained turf, not on a fever-bed, A point upon my lips, a point within my heart. CRIES FROM ALL: I'm hungry! CYRANO (crossing his arms): All your thoughts of meat and drink! Bertrand the fifer!--you were shepherd once,-- Draw from its double leathern case your fife, Play to these greedy, guzzling soldiers. Play Old country airs with plaintive rhythm recurring, Where lurk sweet echoes of the dear home-voices, Each note of which calls like a little sister, Those airs slow, slow ascending, as the smoke-wreaths Rise from the hearthstones of our native hamlets, Their music strikes the ear like Gascon patois!. . . (The old man seats himself, and gets his flute ready): Your flute was now a warrior in durance; But on its stem your fingers are a-dancing A bird-like minuet! O flute! Remember That flutes were made of reeds first, not laburnum; Make us a music pastoral days recalling-- The soul-time of your youth, in country pastures!. . . (The old man begins to play the airs of Languedoc): Hark to the music, Gascons!. . .'Tis no longer The piercing fife of camp--but 'neath his fingers The flute of the woods! No more the call to combat, 'Tis now the love-song of the wandering goat-herds!. . . Hark!. . .'tis the valley, the wet landes, the forest, The sunburnt shepherd-boy with scarlet beret, The dusk of evening on the Dordogne river,-- 'Tis Gascony! Hark, Gascons, to the music! (The cadets sit with bowed heads; their eyes have a far-off look as if dreaming, and they surreptitiously wipe away their tears with their cuffs and the corner of their cloaks.) CARBON (to Cyrano in a whisper): But you make them weep! CYRANO: Ay, for homesickness. A nobler pain than hunger,--'tis of the soul, not of the body! I am well pleased to see their pain change its viscera. Heart-ache is better than stomach-ache. CARBON: But you weaken their courage by playing thus on their heart-strings! CYRANO (making a sign to a drummer to approach): Not I. The hero that sleeps in Gascon blood is ever ready to awake in them. 'Twould suffice. . . (He makes a signal; the drum beats.) ALL THE CADETS (stand up and rush to take arms): What? What is it? CYRANO (smiling): You see! One roll of the drum is enough! Good-by dreams, regrets, native land, love. . .All that the pipe called forth the drum has chased away! A CADET (looking toward the back of the stage): Ho! here comes Monsieur de Guiche. ALL THE CADETS (muttering): Ugh!. . .Ugh!. . . CYRANO (smiling): A flattering welcome! A CADET: We are sick to death of him! ANOTHER CADET: --With his lace collar over his armor, playing the fine gentleman! ANOTHER: As if one wore linen over steel! THE FIRST: It were good for a bandage had he boils on his neck. THE SECOND: Another plotting courtier! ANOTHER CADET: His uncle's own nephew! CARBON: For all that--a Gascon. THE FIRST: Ay, false Gascon!. . .trust him not. . . Gascons should ever be crack-brained. . . Naught more dangerous than a rational Gascon. LE BRET: How pale he is! ANOTHER: Oh! he is hungry, just like us poor devils; but under his cuirass, with its fine gilt nails, his stomach-ache glitters brave in the sun. CYRANO (hurriedly): Let us not seem to suffer either! Out with your cards, pipes, and dice. . . (All begin spreading out the games on the drums, the stools, the ground, and on their cloaks, and light long pipes): And I shall read Descartes. (He walks up and down, reading a little book which he has drawn from his pocket. Tableau. Enter De Guiche. All appear absorbed and happy. He is very pale. He goes up to Carbon.)

Act IV -- Scenes 2-3

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scenes-23

The cadets complain of hunger. Cyrano tries to entertain them with his wit, but when even he cannot cheer them up, he asks an old piper to play some familiar Provencal songs for them and speaks to them of home. When Carbon protests that Cyrano is making them cry, Cyrano responds that it is nobler to cry from homesickness than it is to cry from hunger, because homesickness is moral and hunger is physical.

These scenes provide Rostand the opportunity to work in some of the lovely folk songs from southern France, and they also point up Cyrano's leadership among the cadets. It is he who is resourceful enough to cheer them. The observation that it is nobler to cry from homesickness than hunger is an interesting bit of philosophy. It is also good psychology as well, since a desire to live to return home is more likely to sustain them than self-pity.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/38.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_18_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 4.scene 4

act 4 scene 4

{"name": "Act IV -- Scene 4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-4", "summary": "De Guiche enters. He says that he knows the cadets do not like him. The cadets continue smoking and playing cards as if they were not paying any attention to De Guiche. They do not want him to know how miserable they are. He tells them of his action in the war the day before. Cyrano, however, knows every detail. He knows that when De Guiche's life was in danger, he flung off his officer's scarf so he would not be recognized. Cyrano picked up the scarf, and now exposes De Guiche's cowardice by producing it. De Guiche mounts the parapet and waves the scarf, explaining that, with the aid of a spy, he has arranged for the Spanish to attack at the position from which he signals. At the same time, the French armies will mount their own attack against the weakest position of the Spaniards. De Guiche admits that, by ordering the attack on the Gascony Guards, he serves both the king and his own rancor. Christian says that he would like to put his love for Roxane into one last letter. Cyrano hands him a letter he has ready. Christian notices that a tear has splashed on the letter, and Cyrano explains that the letter was so beautiful that he himself was carried away with emotion. The sentinel announces that a carriage approaches and the cadets line up, preparing a salute.", "analysis": "De Guiche is certainly not a pleasant character, but he is at least honest. The attack that he has arranged for at this position will probably turn into a massacre of the Gascons. The cadets show their dislike for him quite openly, and Cyrano has shown that his own courage exceeds that of De Guiche by retrieving De Guiche's scarf from the most dangerous part of the battlefield. It is another touch of irony in the play that Cyrano's displaying of the scarf is the action that makes De Guiche come to a definite conclusion about inviting the attack. Rostand has established that Cyrano manages to get through the lines to send letters, but at very great risk on his life. Surely, if it were at all possible to get food in, he would do so. Thus, when a coachman arrives, declaring that he is in the service of the king of France, it is certainly cause for amazement. This business is ridiculous, but absolutely essential for the development of the plot. Rostand does it about as well as it could be done, inasmuch as he thoroughly prepares the audience for everything explainable and makes a thorough surprise of what is not logical."}

The same. De Guiche. DE GUICHE (to Carbon): Good-day! (They examine each other. Aside, with satisfaction): He's green. CARBON (aside): He has nothing left but eyes. DE GUICHE (looking at the cadets): Here are the rebels! Ay, Sirs, on all sides I hear that in your ranks you scoff at me; That the Cadets, these loutish, mountain-bred, Poor country squires, and barons of Perigord, Scarce find for me--their Colonel--a disdain Sufficient! call me plotter, wily courtier! It does not please their mightiness to see A point-lace collar on my steel cuirass,-- And they enrage, because a man, in sooth, May be no ragged-robin, yet a Gascon! (Silence. All smoke and play): Shall I command your Captain punish you? No. CARBON: I am free, moreover,--will not punish-- DE GUICHE: Ah! CARBON: I have paid my company--'tis mine. I bow but to headquarters. DE GUICHE: So?--in faith! That will suffice. (Addressing himself to the cadets): I can despise your taunts 'Tis well known how I bear me in the war; At Bapaume, yesterday, they saw the rage With which I beat back the Count of Bucquoi; Assembling my own men, I fell on his, And charged three separate times! CYRANO (without lifting his eyes from his book): And your white scarf? DE GUICHE (surprised and gratified): You know that detail?. . .Troth! It happened thus: While caracoling to recall the troops For the third charge, a band of fugitives Bore me with them, close by the hostile ranks: I was in peril--capture, sudden death!-- When I thought of the good expedient To loosen and let fall the scarf which told My military rank; thus I contrived --Without attention waked--to leave the foes, And suddenly returning, reinforced With my own men, to scatter them! And now, --What say you, Sir? (The cadets pretend not to be listening, but the cards and the dice-boxes remain suspended in their hands, the smoke of their pipes in their cheeks. They wait.) CYRANO: I say, that Henri Quatre Had not, by any dangerous odds, been forced To strip himself of his white helmet plume. (Silent delight. The cards fall, the dice rattle. The smoke is puffed.) DE GUICHE: The ruse succeeded, though! (Same suspension of play, etc.) CYRANO: Oh, may be! But One does not lightly abdicate the honor To serve as target to the enemy (Cards, dice, fall again, and the cadets smoke with evident delight): Had I been present when your scarf fell low, --Our courage, Sir, is of a different sort-- I would have picked it up and put it on. DE GUICHE: Oh, ay! Another Gascon boast! CYRANO: A boast? Lend it to me. I pledge myself, to-night, --With it across my breast,--to lead th' assault. DE GUICHE: Another Gascon vaunt! You know the scarf Lies with the enemy, upon the brink Of the stream,. . .the place is riddled now with shot,-- No one can fetch it hither! CYRANO (drawing the scarf from his pocket, and holding it out to him): Here it is. (Silence. The cadets stifle their laughter in their cards and dice-boxes. De Guiche turns and looks at them; they instantly become grave, and set to play. One of them whistles indifferently the air just played by the fifer.) DE GUICHE (taking the scarf): I thank you. It will now enable me To make a signal,--that I had forborne To make--till now. (He goes to the rampart, climbs it, and waves the scarf thrice.) ALL: What's that? THE SENTINEL (from the top of the rampart): See you yon man Down there, who runs?. . . DE GUICHE (descending): 'Tis a false Spanish spy Who is extremely useful to my ends. The news he carries to the enemy Are those I prompt him with--so, in a word, We have an influence on their decisions! CYRANO: Scoundrel! DE GUICHE (carelessly knotting on his scarf): 'Tis opportune. What were we saying? Ah! I have news for you. Last evening --To victual us--the Marshal did attempt A final effort:--secretly he went To Dourlens, where the King's provisions be. But--to return to camp more easily-- He took with him a goodly force of troops. Those who attacked us now would have fine sport! Half of the army's absent from the camp! CARBON: Ay, if the Spaniards knew, 'twere ill for us, But they know nothing of it? DE GUICHE: Oh! they know. They will attack us. CARBON: Ah! DE GUICHE: For my false spy Came to warn me of their attack. He said, 'I can decide the point for their assault; Where would you have it? I will tell them 'tis The least defended--they'll attempt you there.' I answered, 'Good. Go out of camp, but watch My signal. Choose the point from whence it comes.' CARBON (to cadets): Make ready! (All rise; sounds of swords and belts being buckled.) DE GUICHE: 'Twill be in an hour. FIRST CADET: Good!. . . (They all sit down again and take up their games.) DE GUICHE (to Carbon): Time must be gained. The Marshal will return. CARBON: How gain it? DE GUICHE: You will all be good enough To let yourselves to be killed. CYRANO: Vengeance! oho! DE GUICHE: I do not say that, if I loved you well, I had chosen you and yours,--but, as things stand,-- Your courage yielding to no corps the palm-- I serve my King, and serve my grudge as well. CYRANO: Permit that I express my gratitude. . . DE GUICHE: I know you love to fight against five score; You will not now complain of paltry odds. (He goes up with Carbon.) CYRANO (to the cadets): We shall add to the Gascon coat of arms, With its six bars of blue and gold, one more-- The blood-red bar that was a-missing there! (De Guiche speaks in a low voice with Carbon at the back. Orders are given. Preparations go forward. Cyrano goes up to Christian, who stands with crossed arms.) CYRANO (putting his hand on Christian's shoulder): Christian! CHRISTIAN (shaking his head): Roxane! CYRANO: Alas! CHRISTIAN: At least, I'd send My heart's farewell to her in a fair letter!. . . CYRANO: I had suspicion it would be to-day, (He draws a letter out of his doublet): And had already writ. . . CHRISTIAN: Show! CYRANO: Will you. . .? CHRISTIAN (taking the letter): Ay! (He opens and reads it): Hold! CYRANO: What? CHRISTIAN: This little spot! CYRANO (taking the letter, with an innocent look): A spot? CHRISTIAN: A tear! CYRANO: Poets, at last,--by dint of counterfeiting-- Take counterfeit for true--that is the charm! This farewell letter,--it was passing sad, I wept myself in writing it! CHRISTIAN: Wept? why? CYRANO: Oh!. . .death itself is hardly terrible,. . . --But, ne'er to see her more! That is death's sting! --For. . .I shall never. . . (Christian looks at him): We shall. . . (Quickly): I mean, you. . . CHRISTIAN (snatching the letter from him): Give me that letter! (A rumor, far off in the camp.) VOICE Of SENTINEL: Who goes there? Halloo! (Shots--voices--carriage-bells.) CARBON: What is it? A SENTINEL (on the rampart): 'Tis a carriage! (All rush to see.) CRIES: In the camp? It enters!--It comes from the enemy! --Fire!--No!--The coachman cries!--What does he say? --'On the King's service!' (Everyone is on the rampart, staring. The bells come nearer.) DE GUICHE: The King's service? How? (All descend and draw up in line.) CARBON: Uncover, all! DE GUICHE: The King's! Draw up in line! Let him describe his curve as it befits! (The carriage enters at full speed covered with dust and mud. The curtains are drawn close. Two lackeys behind. It is pulled up suddenly.) CARBON: Beat a salute! (A roll of drums. The cadets uncover.) DE GUICHE: Lower the carriage-steps! (Two cadets rush forward. The door opens.) ROXANE (jumping down from the carriage): Good-day! (All are bowing to the ground, but at the sound of a woman's voice every head is instantly raised.)

Act IV -- Scene 4

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-4

De Guiche enters. He says that he knows the cadets do not like him. The cadets continue smoking and playing cards as if they were not paying any attention to De Guiche. They do not want him to know how miserable they are. He tells them of his action in the war the day before. Cyrano, however, knows every detail. He knows that when De Guiche's life was in danger, he flung off his officer's scarf so he would not be recognized. Cyrano picked up the scarf, and now exposes De Guiche's cowardice by producing it. De Guiche mounts the parapet and waves the scarf, explaining that, with the aid of a spy, he has arranged for the Spanish to attack at the position from which he signals. At the same time, the French armies will mount their own attack against the weakest position of the Spaniards. De Guiche admits that, by ordering the attack on the Gascony Guards, he serves both the king and his own rancor. Christian says that he would like to put his love for Roxane into one last letter. Cyrano hands him a letter he has ready. Christian notices that a tear has splashed on the letter, and Cyrano explains that the letter was so beautiful that he himself was carried away with emotion. The sentinel announces that a carriage approaches and the cadets line up, preparing a salute.

De Guiche is certainly not a pleasant character, but he is at least honest. The attack that he has arranged for at this position will probably turn into a massacre of the Gascons. The cadets show their dislike for him quite openly, and Cyrano has shown that his own courage exceeds that of De Guiche by retrieving De Guiche's scarf from the most dangerous part of the battlefield. It is another touch of irony in the play that Cyrano's displaying of the scarf is the action that makes De Guiche come to a definite conclusion about inviting the attack. Rostand has established that Cyrano manages to get through the lines to send letters, but at very great risk on his life. Surely, if it were at all possible to get food in, he would do so. Thus, when a coachman arrives, declaring that he is in the service of the king of France, it is certainly cause for amazement. This business is ridiculous, but absolutely essential for the development of the plot. Rostand does it about as well as it could be done, inasmuch as he thoroughly prepares the audience for everything explainable and makes a thorough surprise of what is not logical.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_4_chapters_5_to_7.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_19_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 4.scenes 5-7

act 4 scenes 5-7

{"name": "Act IV -- Scenes 5-7", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scenes-57", "summary": "When the carriage comes to a halt, everyone is astonished to see Roxane alight from it. She has charmed her way through the Spanish lines and gaily explains that this siege has gone on too long. De Guiche and Cyrano try to convince her to leave, but she refuses. The cadets are introduced to Roxane. She gives them her dainty handkerchief to use as a banner. She has managed to bring a carriage load of gourmet food with her, and with Ragueneau's help, she dispenses it to the cadets. They eat hungrily, but hide the food when De Guiche returns. De Guiche announces that he has brought a cannon for the cadets. He says that if Roxane will not leave the encampment and return to safety he will stay, too. Cyrano cautions Christian to remember about all the letters written to Roxane in Christian's behalf.", "analysis": "Though absolutely necessary to the plot, this is one of the weakest points of the play. The only thing more ridiculous than Roxane's arrival on the scene is her explanation of how she managed the feat. The student of drama -- particularly the student of playwriting -- could learn a great deal about dramatic structure by attempting to re-write Act IV in summary form. The problem would be to accomplish the same thing as Rostand in terms of plot, but to avoid the more far-fetched elements, such as those contained in these scenes. At this point in the play, it would be well to reassess Roxane's behavior. It is possible that one might mistakenly believe her to be shallow, frivolous, and self-centered. But this is not true. Although she is all these things on the surface, she is also extremely intelligent and sensitive. It is true that she came to see Christian, but apparently an equally important reason was to bring the food for the company of cadets. She flirted her way through the Spanish lines and concealed the food very cleverly. Also, she was not shallow when she managed to keep Christian's regiment at home for a time and deceive De Guiche. It must be remembered that she truly does appreciate Cyrano's poetry, and because of the letters he has written, true love has bloomed within her for the first time. We are seeing a new dimension of Roxane, quite different from the precieuse we were introduced to. De Guiche and Cyrano have one thing in common -- they both love the same woman; only for her do they join forces. In Scene 7, Rostand begins to change the audience's mind about De Guiche and show us that he is not really all-bad. He is at least sincere in his concern for Roxane. If she insists upon staying for what he is sure will be her death, he, too, will commit suicide by remaining with her. Thus does Rostand begin to imply that, at least at this point in his life, De Guiche's heart is filled more with love for Roxane than with lust. Rostand then brings the audience's attention back from the war to the letters."}

The same. Roxane. DE GUICHE: On the King's service! You? ROXANE: Ay,--King Love's! What other king? CYRANO: Great God! CHRISTIAN (rushing forward): Why have you come? ROXANE: This siege--'tis too long! CHRISTIAN: But why?. . . ROXANE: I will tell you all! CYRANO (who, at the sound of her voice, has stood still, rooted to the ground, afraid to raise his eyes): My God! dare I look at her? DE GUICHE: You cannot remain here! ROXANE (merrily): But I say yes! Who will push a drum hither for me? (She seats herself on the drum they roll forward): So! I thank you. (She laughs): My carriage was fired at (proudly): by the patrol! Look! would you not think 'twas made of a pumpkin, like Cinderella's chariot in the tale,--and the footmen out of rats? (Sending a kiss with her lips to Christian): Good-morrow! (Examining them all): You look not merry, any of you! Ah! know you that 'tis a long road to get to Arras? (Seeing Cyrano): Cousin, delighted! CYRANO (coming up to her): But how, in Heaven's name?. . . ROXANE: How found I the way to the army? It was simple enough, for I had but to pass on and on, as far as I saw the country laid waste. Ah, what horrors were there! Had I not seen, then I could never have believed it! Well, gentlemen, if such be the service of your King, I would fainer serve mine! CYRANO: But 'tis sheer madness! Where in the fiend's name did you get through? ROXANE: Where? Through the Spanish lines. FIRST CADET: --For subtle craft, give me a woman! DE GUICHE: But how did you pass through their lines? LE BRET: Faith! that must have been a hard matter!. . . ROXANE: None too hard. I but drove quietly forward in my carriage, and when some hidalgo of haughty mien would have stayed me, lo! I showed at the window my sweetest smile, and these Senors being (with no disrespect to you) the most gallant gentlemen in the world,--I passed on! CARBON: True, that smile is a passport! But you must have been asked frequently to give an account of where you were going, Madame? ROXANE: Yes, frequently. Then I would answer, 'I go to see my lover.' At that word the very fiercest Spaniard of them all would gravely shut the carriage-door, and, with a gesture that a king might envy, make signal to his men to lower the muskets leveled at me;--then, with melancholy but withal very graceful dignity--his beaver held to the wind that the plumes might flutter bravely, he would bow low, saying to me, 'Pass on, Senorita!' CHRISTIAN: But, Roxane. . . ROXANE: Forgive me that I said, 'my lover!' But bethink you, had I said 'my husband,' not one of them had let me pass! CHRISTIAN: But. . . ROXANE: What ails you? DE GUICHE: You must leave this place! ROXANE: I? CYRANO: And that instantly! LE BRET: No time to lose. CHRISTIAN: Indeed, you must. ROXANE: But wherefore must I? CHRISTIAN (embarrassed): 'Tis that. . . CYRANO (the same): --In three quarters of an hour. . . DE GUICHE (the same): --Or for. . . CARBON (the same): It were best. . . LE BRET (the same): You might. . . ROXANE: You are going to fight?--I stay here. ALL: No, no! ROXANE: He is my husband! (She throws herself into Christian's arms): They shall kill us both together! CHRISTIAN: Why do you look at me thus? ROXANE: I will tell you why! DE GUICHE (in despair): 'Tis a post of mortal danger! ROXANE (turning round): Mortal danger! CYRANO: Proof enough, that he has put us here! ROXANE (to De Guiche): So, Sir, you would have made a widow of me? DE GUICHE: Nay, on my oath. . . ROXANE: I will not go! I am reckless now, and I shall not stir from here!--Besides, 'tis amusing! CYRANO: Oh-ho! So our precieuse is a heroine! ROXANE: Monsieur de Bergerac, I am your cousin. A CADET: We will defend you well! ROXANE (more and more excited): I have no fear of that, my friends! ANOTHER (in ecstasy): The whole camp smells sweet of orris-root! ROXANE: And, by good luck, I have chosen a hat that will suit well with the battlefield! (Looking at De Guiche): But were it not wisest that the Count retire? They may begin the attack. DE GUICHE: That is not to be brooked! I go to inspect the cannon, and shall return. You have still time--think better of it! ROXANE: Never! (De Guiche goes out.) The same, all but De Guiche. CHRISTIAN (entreatingly): Roxane! ROXANE: No! FIRST CADET (to the others): She stays! ALL (hurrying, hustling each other, tidying themselves): A comb!--Soap!--My uniform is torn!--A needle!--A ribbon!--Lend your mirror!--My cuffs!--Your curling-iron!--A razor!. . . ROXANE (to Cyrano, who still pleads with her): No! Naught shall make me stir from this spot! CARBON (who, like the others, has been buckling, dusting, brushing his hat, settling his plume, and drawing on his cuffs, advances to Roxane, and ceremoniously): It is perchance more seemly, since things are thus, that I present to you some of these gentlemen who are about to have the honor of dying before your eyes. (Roxane bows, and stands leaning on Christian's arm, while Carbon introduces the cadets to her): Baron de Peyrescous de Colignac! THE CADET (with a low reverence): Madame. . . CARBON (continuing): Baron de Casterac de Cahuzac,--Vidame de Malgouyre Estressac Lesbas d'Escarabiot, Chevalier d'Antignac-Juzet, Baron Hillot de Blagnac-Salechan de Castel Crabioules. . . ROXANE: But how many names have you each? BARON HILLOT: Scores! CARBON (to Roxane): Pray, upon the hand that holds your kerchief. ROXANE (opens her hand, and the handkerchief falls): Why? (The whole company start forward to pick it up.) CARBON (quickly raising it): My company had no flag. But now, by my faith, they will have the fairest in all the camp! ROXANE (smiling): 'Tis somewhat small. CARBON (tying the handkerchief on the staff of his lance): But--'tis of lace! A CADET (to the rest): I could die happy, having seen so sweet a face, if I had something in my stomach--were it but a nut! CARBON (who has overheard, indignantly): Shame on you! What, talk of eating when a lovely woman!. . . ROXANE: But your camp air is keen; I myself am famished. Pasties, cold fricassee, old wines--there is my bill of fare? Pray bring it all here. (Consternation.) A CADET: All that? ANOTHER: But where on earth find it? ROXANE (quietly): In my carriage. ALL: How? ROXANE: Now serve up--carve! Look a little closer at my coachman, gentlemen, and you will recognize a man most welcome. All the sauces can be sent to table hot, if we will! THE CADETS (rushing pellmell to the carriage): 'Tis Ragueneau! (Acclamations): Oh, oh! ROXANE (looking after them): Poor fellows! CYRANO (kissing her hand): Kind fairy! RAGUENEAU (standing on the box like a quack doctor at a fair): Gentlemen!. . . (General delight.) THE CADETS: Bravo! bravo! RAGUENEAU: . . .The Spaniards, gazing on a lady so dainty fair, overlooked the fare so dainty!. . . (Applause.) CYRANO (in a whisper to Christian): Hark, Christian! RAGUENEAU: . . .And, occupied with gallantry, perceived not-- (His draws a plate from under the seat, and holds it up): --The galantine!. . . (Applause. The galantine passes from hand to hand.) CYRANO (still whispering to Christian): Prythee, one word! RAGUENEAU: And Venus so attracted their eyes that Diana could secretly pass by with-- (He holds up a shoulder of mutton): --her fawn! (Enthusiasm. Twenty hands are held out to seize the shoulder of mutton.) CYRANO (in a low whisper to Christian): I must speak to you! ROXANE (to the cadets, who come down, their arms laden with food): Put it all on the ground! (She lays all out on the grass, aided by the two imperturbable lackeys who were behind the carriage.) ROXANE (to Christian, just as Cyrano is drawing him apart): Come, make yourself of use! (Christian comes to help her. Cyrano's uneasiness increases.) RAGUENEAU: Truffled peacock! FIRST CADET (radiant, coming down, cutting a big slice of ham): By the mass! We shall not brave the last hazard without having had a gullet-full!-- (quickly correcting himself on seeing Roxane): --Pardon! A Balthazar feast! RAGUENEAU (throwing down the carriage cushions): The cushions are stuffed with ortolans! (Hubbub. They tear open and turn out the contents of the cushions. Bursts of laughter--merriment.) THIRD CADET: Ah! Viedaze! RAGUENEAU (throwing down to the cadets bottles of red wine): Flasks of rubies!-- (and white wine): --Flasks of topaz! ROXANE (throwing a folded tablecloth at Cyrano's head): Unfold me that napkin!--Come, come! be nimble! RAGUENEAU (waving a lantern): Each of the carriage-lamps is a little larder! CYRANO (in a low voice to Christian, as they arrange the cloth together): I must speak with you ere you speak to her. RAGUENEAU: My whip-handle is an Arles sausage! ROXANE (pouring out wine, helping): Since we are to die, let the rest of the army shift for itself. All for the Gascons! And mark! if De Guiche comes, let no one invite him! (Going from one to the other): There! there! You have time enough! Do not eat too fast!--Drink a little.- -Why are you crying? FIRST CADET: It is all so good!. . . ROXANE: Tut!--Red or white?--Some bread for Monsieur de Carbon!--a knife! Pass your plate!--a little of the crust? Some more? Let me help you!--Some champagne?- -A wing? CYRANO (who follows her, his arms laden with dishes, helping her to wait on everybody): How I worship her! ROXANE (going up to Christian): What will you? CHRISTIAN: Nothing. ROXANE: Nay, nay, take this biscuit, steeped in muscat; come!. . .but two drops! CHRISTIAN (trying to detain her): Oh! tell me why you came? ROXANE: Wait; my first duty is to these poor fellows.--Hush! In a few minutes. . . LE BRET (who had gone up to pass a loaf on the end of a lance to the sentry on the rampart): De Guiche! CYRANO: Quick! hide flasks, plates, pie-dishes, game-baskets! Hurry!--Let us all look unconscious! (To Ragueneau): Up on your seat!--Is everything covered up? (In an instant all has been pushed into the tents, or hidden under doublets, cloaks, and beavers. De Guiche enters hurriedly--stops suddenly, sniffing the air. Silence.) 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.)

Act IV -- Scenes 5-7

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scenes-57

When the carriage comes to a halt, everyone is astonished to see Roxane alight from it. She has charmed her way through the Spanish lines and gaily explains that this siege has gone on too long. De Guiche and Cyrano try to convince her to leave, but she refuses. The cadets are introduced to Roxane. She gives them her dainty handkerchief to use as a banner. She has managed to bring a carriage load of gourmet food with her, and with Ragueneau's help, she dispenses it to the cadets. They eat hungrily, but hide the food when De Guiche returns. De Guiche announces that he has brought a cannon for the cadets. He says that if Roxane will not leave the encampment and return to safety he will stay, too. Cyrano cautions Christian to remember about all the letters written to Roxane in Christian's behalf.

Though absolutely necessary to the plot, this is one of the weakest points of the play. The only thing more ridiculous than Roxane's arrival on the scene is her explanation of how she managed the feat. The student of drama -- particularly the student of playwriting -- could learn a great deal about dramatic structure by attempting to re-write Act IV in summary form. The problem would be to accomplish the same thing as Rostand in terms of plot, but to avoid the more far-fetched elements, such as those contained in these scenes. At this point in the play, it would be well to reassess Roxane's behavior. It is possible that one might mistakenly believe her to be shallow, frivolous, and self-centered. But this is not true. Although she is all these things on the surface, she is also extremely intelligent and sensitive. It is true that she came to see Christian, but apparently an equally important reason was to bring the food for the company of cadets. She flirted her way through the Spanish lines and concealed the food very cleverly. Also, she was not shallow when she managed to keep Christian's regiment at home for a time and deceive De Guiche. It must be remembered that she truly does appreciate Cyrano's poetry, and because of the letters he has written, true love has bloomed within her for the first time. We are seeing a new dimension of Roxane, quite different from the precieuse we were introduced to. De Guiche and Cyrano have one thing in common -- they both love the same woman; only for her do they join forces. In Scene 7, Rostand begins to change the audience's mind about De Guiche and show us that he is not really all-bad. He is at least sincere in his concern for Roxane. If she insists upon staying for what he is sure will be her death, he, too, will commit suicide by remaining with her. Thus does Rostand begin to imply that, at least at this point in his life, De Guiche's heart is filled more with love for Roxane than with lust. Rostand then brings the audience's attention back from the war to the letters.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/42.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_20_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 4.scene 8

act 4 scene 8

{"name": "Act IV -- Scene 8", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-8", "summary": "Roxane tells Christian that she has made the dangerous journey to come to him because of the letters that he has written to her. She says that she began to know his mind and soul the night when he spoke to her under her balcony. And the letters were so powerful and so sincere, that she now wants to ask his pardon for loving him only for his physical beauty. She feels now that that was an insult, for his mind and his spirit are so much more beautiful. In reading his letters she has learned to love him for better reasons, more deeply than before. His physical appearance now means nothing to her.", "analysis": "This is the reason that Roxane has to make an appearance on the battlefield. Without this scene the play would be meaningless. Christian must learn that it is Cyrano whom Roxane actually loves. We also now discover that Roxane's character has begun to undergo a very definite change. She is capable of more maturity than Cyrano gave her credit for. His persuasive powers are greater than he knew, for he did not dare trust his ability to woo her for himself. And now she is married to Christian."}

Roxane, Christian. In the distance cadets coming and going. Carbon and De Guiche give orders. ROXANE (running up to Christian): Ah, Christian, at last!. . . CHRISTIAN (taking her hands): Now tell me why-- Why, by these fearful paths so perilous-- Across these ranks of ribald soldiery, You have come? ROXANE: Love, your letters brought me here! CHRISTIAN: What say you? ROXANE: 'Tis your fault if I ran risks! Your letters turned my head! Ah! all this month, How many!--and the last one ever bettered The one that went before! CHRISTIAN: What!--for a few Inconsequent love-letters! ROXANE: Hold your peace! Ah! you cannot conceive it! Ever since That night, when, in a voice all new to me, Under my window you revealed your soul-- Ah! ever since I have adored you! Now Your letters all this whole month long!--meseemed As if I heard that voice so tender, true, Sheltering, close! Thy fault, I say! It drew me, The voice o' th' night! Oh! wise Penelope Would ne'er have stayed to broider on her hearthstone, If her Ulysses could have writ such letters! But would have cast away her silken bobbins, And fled to join him, mad for love as Helen! CHRISTIAN: But. . . ROXANE: I read, read again--grew faint for love; I was thine utterly. Each separate page Was like a fluttering flower-petal, loosed From your own soul, and wafted thus to mine. Imprinted in each burning word was love Sincere, all-powerful. . . CHRISTIAN: A love sincere! Can that be felt, Roxane! ROXANE: Ay, that it can! CHRISTIAN: You come. . .? ROXANE: O, Christian, my true lord, I come-- (Were I to throw myself, here, at your knees, You would raise me--but 'tis my soul I lay At your feet--you can raise it nevermore!) --I come to crave your pardon. (Ay, 'tis time To sue for pardon, now that death may come!) For the insult done to you when, frivolous, At first I loved you only for your face! CHRISTIAN (horror-stricken): Roxane! ROXANE: And later, love--less frivolous-- Like a bird that spreads its wings, but can not fly-- Arrested by your beauty, by your soul Drawn close--I loved for both at once! CHRISTIAN: And now? ROXANE: Ah! you yourself have triumphed o'er yourself, And now, I love you only for your soul! CHRISTIAN (stepping backward): Roxane! ROXANE: Be happy. To be loved for beauty-- A poor disguise that time so soon wears threadbare-- Must be to noble souls--to souls aspiring-- A torture. Your dear thoughts have now effaced That beauty that so won me at the outset. Now I see clearer--and I no more see it! CHRISTIAN: Oh!. . . ROXANE: You are doubtful of such victory? CHRISTIAN (pained): Roxane! ROXANE: I see you cannot yet believe it. Such love. . .? CHRISTIAN: I do not ask such love as that! I would be loved more simply; for. . . ROXANE: For that Which they have all in turns loved in thee?-- Shame! Oh! be loved henceforth in a better way! CHRISTIAN: No! the first love was best! ROXANE: Ah! how you err! 'Tis now that I love best--love well! 'Tis that Which is thy true self, see!--that I adore! Were your brilliance dimmed. . . CHRISTIAN: Hush! ROXANE: I should love still! Ay, if your beauty should to-day depart. . . CHRISTIAN: Say not so! ROXANE: Ay, I say it! CHRISTIAN: Ugly? How? ROXANE: Ugly! I swear I'd love you still! CHRISTIAN: My God! ROXANE: Are you content at last? CHRISTIAN (in a choked voice): Ay!. . . ROXANE: What is wrong? CHRISTIAN (gently pushing her away): Nothing. . .I have two words to say:--one second. . . ROXANE: But?. . . CHRISTIAN (pointing to the cadets): Those poor fellows, shortly doomed to death,-- My love deprives them of the sight of you: Go,--speak to them--smile on them ere they die! ROXANE (deeply affected): Dear Christian!. . . (She goes up to the cadets, who respectfully crowd round her.)

Act IV -- Scene 8

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-8

Roxane tells Christian that she has made the dangerous journey to come to him because of the letters that he has written to her. She says that she began to know his mind and soul the night when he spoke to her under her balcony. And the letters were so powerful and so sincere, that she now wants to ask his pardon for loving him only for his physical beauty. She feels now that that was an insult, for his mind and his spirit are so much more beautiful. In reading his letters she has learned to love him for better reasons, more deeply than before. His physical appearance now means nothing to her.

This is the reason that Roxane has to make an appearance on the battlefield. Without this scene the play would be meaningless. Christian must learn that it is Cyrano whom Roxane actually loves. We also now discover that Roxane's character has begun to undergo a very definite change. She is capable of more maturity than Cyrano gave her credit for. His persuasive powers are greater than he knew, for he did not dare trust his ability to woo her for himself. And now she is married to Christian.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_4_chapters_9_to_10.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_21_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 4.scenes 9-10

act 4 scene 9-10

{"name": "Act IV -- Scene 9-10", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-910", "summary": "Christian tells Cyrano that Roxane loves not him, but Cyrano, for she loves the author of the letters and the man who spoke to her under her balcony. Because she is unaware of this, Christian wants Roxane to be told the truth so that she may choose between them. He calls Roxane and exits, leaving Cyrano to explain the fraudulent situation. Cyrano begins to unravel the story, but just when his hopes are aroused, Christian's body is carried on stage; he has been killed by the first bullet fired in the battle. This bullet also destroys Cyrano's hopes; he can never tell Roxane the truth now, especially after she discovers a letter on Christian's body. It is addressed to her, covered with Christian's blood and, although Roxane does not know it, Cyrano's tears.", "analysis": "Christian has all the virtues except eloquence. He behaves nobly. One wonders why he never before guessed that Cyrano loves Roxane. Perhaps he was blinded by his own love for her, or perhaps we should credit Cyrano's glib tongue and forceful personality with the successful deception. Christian has to die, of course. Cyrano's despair over an unrequited love can hold an audience's attention for only a limited amount of time. And what sort of climax can the play have if the war ends with Cyrano, Christian, and Roxane all still alive? What sort of relationship would develop then between these three? Rostand very cleverly makes De Guiche, Roxane, and Christian show the noblest and most mature sides of their characters in this act, and at this moment we are especially sympathetic to Christian."}

Christian, Cyrano. At back Roxane talking to Carbon and some cadets. CHRISTIAN (calling toward Cyrano's tent): Cyrano! CYRANO (reappearing, fully armed): What? Why so pale? CHRISTIAN: She does not love me! CYRANO: What? CHRISTIAN: 'Tis you she loves! CYRANO: No! CHRISTIAN: --For she loves me only for my soul! CYRANO: Truly? CHRISTIAN: Yes! Thus--you see, that soul is you,. . . Therefore, 'tis you she loves!--And you--love her! CYRANO: I? CHRISTIAN: Oh, I know it! CYRANO: Ay, 'tis true! CHRISTIAN: You love To madness! CYRANO: Ay! and worse! CHRISTIAN: Then tell her so! CYRANO: No! CHRISTIAN: And why not? CYRANO: Look at my face!--be answered! CHRISTIAN: She'd love me--were I ugly. CYRANO: Said she so? CHRISTIAN: Ay! in those words! CYRANO: I'm glad she told you that! But pooh!--believe it not! I am well pleased She thought to tell you. Take it not for truth. Never grow ugly:--she'd reproach me then! CHRISTIAN: That I intend discovering! CYRANO: No! I beg! CHRISTIAN: Ay! she shall choose between us!--Tell her all! CYRANO: No! no! I will not have it! Spare me this! CHRISTIAN: Because my face is haply fair, shall I Destroy your happiness? 'Twere too unjust! CYRANO: And I,--because by Nature's freak I have The gift to say--all that perchance you feel. Shall I be fatal to your happiness? CHRISTIAN: Tell all! CYRANO: It is ill done to tempt me thus! CHRISTIAN: Too long I've borne about within myself A rival to myself--I'll make an end! CYRANO: Christian! CHRISTIAN: Our union, without witness--secret-- Clandestine--can be easily dissolved If we survive. CYRANO: My God!--he still persists! CHRISTIAN: I will be loved myself--or not at all! --I'll go see what they do--there, at the end Of the post: speak to her, and then let her choose One of us two! CYRANO: It will be you. CHRISTIAN: Pray God! (He calls): Roxane! CYRANO: No! no! ROXANE (coming up quickly): What? CHRISTIAN: Cyrano has things Important for your ear. . . (She hastens to Cyrano. Christian goes out.) Roxane, Cyrano. Then Le Bret, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, the cadets, Ragueneau, De Guiche, etc. ROXANE: Important, how? CYRANO (in despair. to Roxane): He's gone! 'Tis naught!--Oh, you know how he sees Importance in a trifle! ROXANE (warmly): Did he doubt Of what I said?--Ah, yes, I saw he doubted! CYRANO (taking her hand): But are you sure you told him all the truth? ROXANE: Yes, I would love him were he. . . (She hesitates.) CYRANO: Does that word Embarrass you before my face, Roxane? ROXANE: I. . . CYRANO (smiling sadly): 'Twill not hurt me! Say it! If he were Ugly!. . . ROXANE: Yes, ugly! (Musket report outside): Hark! I hear a shot! CYRANO (ardently): Hideous! ROXANE: Hideous! yes! CYRANO: Disfigured. ROXANE: Ay! CYRANO: Grotesque? ROXANE: He could not be grotesque to me! CYRANO: You'd love the same?. . . ROXANE: The same--nay, even more! CYRANO (losing command over himself--aside): My God! it's true, perchance, love waits me there! (To Roxane): I. . .Roxane. . .listen. . . LE BRET (entering hurriedly--to Cyrano): Cyrano! CYRANO (turning round): What? LE BRET: Hush! (He whispers something to him.) CYRANO (letting go Roxane's hand and exclaiming): Ah, God! ROXANE: What is it? CYRANO (to himself--stunned): All is over now. (Renewed reports.) ROXANE: What is the matter? Hark! another shot! (She goes up to look outside.) CYRANO: It is too late, now I can never tell! ROXANE (trying to rush out): What has chanced? CYRANO (rushing to stop her): Nothing! (Some cadets enter, trying to hide something they are carrying, and close round it to prevent Roxane approaching.) ROXANE: And those men? (Cyrano draws her away): What were you just about to say before. . .? CYRANO: What was I saying? Nothing now, I swear! (Solemnly): I swear that Christian's soul, his nature, were. . . (Hastily correcting himself): Nay, that they are, the noblest, greatest. . . ROXANE: Were? (With a loud scream): Oh! (She rushes up, pushing every one aside.) CYRANO: All is over now! ROXANE (seeing Christian lying on the ground, wrapped in his cloak): O Christian! LE BRET (to Cyrano): Struck by first shot of the enemy! (Roxane flings herself down by Christian. Fresh reports of cannon--clash of arms--clamor--beating of drums.) CARBON (with sword in the air): O come! Your muskets. (Followed by the cadets, he passes to the other side of the ramparts.) ROXANE: Christian! THE VOICE OF CARBON (from the other side): Ho! make haste! ROXANE: Christian! CARBON: FORM LINE! ROXANE: Christian! CARBON: HANDLE YOUR MATCH! (Ragueneau rushes up, bringing water in a helmet.) CHRISTIAN (in a dying voice): Roxane! CYRANO (quickly, whispering into Christian's ear, while Roxane distractedly tears a piece of linen from his breast, which she dips into the water, trying to stanch the bleeding): I told her all. She loves you still. (Christian closes his eyes.) ROXANE: How, my sweet love? CARBON: DRAW RAMRODS! ROXANE (to Cyrano): He is not dead? CARBON: OPEN YOUR CHARGES WITH YOUR TEETH! ROXANE: His cheek Grows cold against my own! CARBON: READY! PRESENT! ROXANE (seeing a letter in Christian's doublet): A letter!. . . 'Tis for me! (She opens it.) CYRANO (aside): My letter! CARBON: FIRE! (Musket reports--shouts--noise of battle.) CYRANO (trying to disengage his hand, which Roxane on her knees is holding): But, Roxane, hark, they fight! ROXANE (detaining him): Stay yet awhile. For he is dead. You knew him, you alone. (Weeping quietly): Ah, was not his a beauteous soul, a soul Wondrous! CYRANO (standing up--bareheaded): Ay, Roxane. ROXANE: An inspired poet? CYRANO: Ay, Roxane. ROXANE: And a mind sublime? CYRANO: Oh, yes! ROXANE: A heart too deep for common minds to plumb, A spirit subtle, charming? CYRANO (firmly): Ay, Roxane. ROXANE (flinging herself on the dead body): Dead, my love! CYRANO (aside--drawing his sword): Ay, and let me die to-day, Since, all unconscious, she mourns me--in him! (Sounds of trumpets in the distance.) DE GUICHE (appearing on the ramparts--bareheaded--with a wound on his forehead--in a voice of thunder): It is the signal! Trumpet flourishes! The French bring the provisions into camp! Hold but the place awhile! ROXANE: See, there is blood Upon the letter--tears! A VOICE (outside--shouting): Surrender! VOICE OF CADETS: No! RAGUENEAU (standing on the top of his carriage, watches the battle over the edge of the ramparts): The danger's ever greater! CYRANO (to De Guiche--pointing to Roxane): I will charge! Take her away! ROXANE (kissing the letter--in a half-extinguished voice): O God! his tears! his blood!. . . RAGUENEAU (jumping down from the carriage and rushing toward her): She's swooned away! DE GUICHE (on the rampart--to the cadets--with fury): Stand fast! A VOICE (outside): Lay down your arms! THE CADETS: No! CYRANO (to De Guiche): Now that you have proved your valor, Sir, (Pointing to Roxane): Fly, and save her! DE GUICHE (rushing to Roxane, and carrying her away in his arms): So be it! Gain but time, The victory's ours! CYRANO: Good. (Calling out to Roxane, whom De Guiche, aided by Ragueneau, is bearing away in a fainting condition): Farewell, Roxane! (Tumult. Shouts. Cadets reappear, wounded, falling on the scene. Cyrano, rushing to the battle, is stopped by Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, who is streaming with blood.) CARBON: We are breaking! I am wounded--wounded twice! CYRANO (shouting to the Gascons): GASCONS! HO, GASCONS! NEVER TURN YOUR BACKS! (To Carbon, whom he is supporting): Have no fear! I have two deaths to avenge: My friend who's slain;--and my dead happiness! (They come down, Cyrano brandishing the lance to which is attached Roxane's handkerchief): Float there! laced kerchief broidered with her name! (He sticks it in the ground and shouts to the cadets): FALL ON THEM, GASCONS! CRUSH THEM! (To the fifer): Fifer, play! (The fife plays. The wounded try to rise. Some cadets, falling one over the other down the slope, group themselves round Cyrano and the little flag. The carriage is crowded with men inside and outside, and, bristling with arquebuses, is turned into a fortress.) A CADET (appearing on the crest, beaten backward, but still fighting, cries): They're climbing the redoubt! (and falls dead.) CYRANO: Let us salute them! (The rampart is covered instantly by a formidable row of enemies. The standards of the Imperialists are raised): Fire! (General discharge.) A CRY IN THE ENEMY'S RANKS: Fire! (A deadly answering volley. The cadets fall on all sides.) A SPANISH OFFICER (uncovering): Who are these men who rush on death? CYRANO (reciting, erect, amid a storm of bullets): The bold Cadets of Gascony, Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux! Brawling, swaggering boastfully, (He rushes forward, followed by a few survivors): The bold Cadets. . . (His voice is drowned in the battle.) Curtain.

Act IV -- Scene 9-10

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-iv-8212-scene-910

Christian tells Cyrano that Roxane loves not him, but Cyrano, for she loves the author of the letters and the man who spoke to her under her balcony. Because she is unaware of this, Christian wants Roxane to be told the truth so that she may choose between them. He calls Roxane and exits, leaving Cyrano to explain the fraudulent situation. Cyrano begins to unravel the story, but just when his hopes are aroused, Christian's body is carried on stage; he has been killed by the first bullet fired in the battle. This bullet also destroys Cyrano's hopes; he can never tell Roxane the truth now, especially after she discovers a letter on Christian's body. It is addressed to her, covered with Christian's blood and, although Roxane does not know it, Cyrano's tears.

Christian has all the virtues except eloquence. He behaves nobly. One wonders why he never before guessed that Cyrano loves Roxane. Perhaps he was blinded by his own love for her, or perhaps we should credit Cyrano's glib tongue and forceful personality with the successful deception. Christian has to die, of course. Cyrano's despair over an unrequited love can hold an audience's attention for only a limited amount of time. And what sort of climax can the play have if the war ends with Cyrano, Christian, and Roxane all still alive? What sort of relationship would develop then between these three? Rostand very cleverly makes De Guiche, Roxane, and Christian show the noblest and most mature sides of their characters in this act, and at this moment we are especially sympathetic to Christian.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/46.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_22_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 5.scene 1

act 5 scene 1

{"name": "Act V -- Scene 1", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-1", "summary": "The final act takes place in the courtyard of a convent. The sisters are awaiting Cyrano's arrival. We learn that he is poor, often hungry, and that he visits Roxane, who took refuge here after Christian's death, every Saturday.", "analysis": "This subdued scene, which takes place more than 14 years after the incidents that closed Act IV, gives the audience an opportunity to become accustomed to the setting and to learn the situation. As noted elsewhere, this is a characteristic quality of the scenes that open the various acts of the play. The nuns explain the situation as it has existed for nearly 15 years. They also give a clear and very endearing picture of Cyrano's visits to Roxane, who is still grieving for Christian. The nuns love Cyrano and enjoy telling him their little peccadilloes and being teased by him. They know that, while he may not be a good Catholic , he is the best and noblest of men. He takes it upon himself to bring a smile to Roxane's face. Cyrano is a ray of sunshine in her life and in the lives of the nuns. He hides his poverty with his pride, his wit, and his charm."}

Mother Marguerite, Sister Martha, Sister Claire, other sisters. SISTER MARTHA (to Mother Marguerite): Sister Claire glanced in the mirror, once--nay, twice, to see if her coif suited. MOTHER MARGUERITE (to Sister Claire): 'Tis not well. SISTER CLAIRE: But I saw Sister Martha take a plum Out of the tart. MOTHER MARGUERITE (to Sister Martha): That was ill done, my sister. SISTER CLAIRE: A little glance! SISTER MARTHA: And such a little plum! MOTHER MARGUERITE: I shall tell this to Monsieur Cyrano. SISTER CLAIRE: Nay, prithee do not!--he will mock! SISTER MARTHA: He'll say we nuns are vain! SISTER CLAIRE: And greedy! MOTHER MARGUERITE (smiling): Ay, and kind! SISTER CLAIRE: Is it not true, pray, Mother Marguerite, That he has come, each week, on Saturday For ten years, to the convent? MOTHER MARGUERITE: Ay! and more! Ever since--fourteen years ago--the day His cousin brought here, 'midst our woolen coifs, The worldly mourning of her widow's veil, Like a blackbird's wing among the convent doves! SISTER MARTHA: He only has the skill to turn her mind From grief--unsoftened yet by Time--unhealed! ALL THE SISTERS: He is so droll!--It's cheerful when he comes!-- He teases us!--But we all like him well!-- --We make him pasties of angelica! SISTER MARTHA: But, he is not a faithful Catholic! SISTER CLAIRE: We will convert him! THE SISTERS: Yes! Yes! MOTHER MARGUERITE: I forbid, My daughters, you attempt that subject. Nay, Weary him not--he might less oft come here! SISTER MARTHA: But. . .God. . . MOTHER MARGUERITE: Nay, never fear! God knows him well! SISTER MARTHA: But--every Saturday, when he arrives, He tells me, 'Sister, I eat meat on Friday!' MOTHER MARGUERITE: Ah! says he so? Well, the last time he came Food had not passed his lips for two whole days! SISTER MARTHA: Mother! MOTHER MARGUERITE: He's poor. SISTER MARTHA: Who told you so, dear Mother? MOTHER MARGUERITE: Monsieur Le Bret. SISTER MARTHA: None help him? MOTHER MARGUERITE: He permits not. (In an alley at the back Roxane appears, dressed in black, with a widow's coif and veil. De Guiche, imposing-looking and visibly aged, walks by her side. They saunter slowly. Mother Marguerite rises): 'Tis time we go in; Madame Madeleine Walks in the garden with a visitor. SISTER MARTHA (to Sister Claire, in a low voice): The Marshal of Grammont? SISTER CLAIRE (looking at him): 'Tis he, I think. SISTER MARTHA: 'Tis many months now since he came to see her. THE SISTERS: He is so busy!--The Court,--the camp!. . . SISTER CLAIRE: The world! (They go out. De Guiche and Roxane come forward in silence, and stop close to the embroidery frame.)

Act V -- Scene 1

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-1

The final act takes place in the courtyard of a convent. The sisters are awaiting Cyrano's arrival. We learn that he is poor, often hungry, and that he visits Roxane, who took refuge here after Christian's death, every Saturday.

This subdued scene, which takes place more than 14 years after the incidents that closed Act IV, gives the audience an opportunity to become accustomed to the setting and to learn the situation. As noted elsewhere, this is a characteristic quality of the scenes that open the various acts of the play. The nuns explain the situation as it has existed for nearly 15 years. They also give a clear and very endearing picture of Cyrano's visits to Roxane, who is still grieving for Christian. The nuns love Cyrano and enjoy telling him their little peccadilloes and being teased by him. They know that, while he may not be a good Catholic , he is the best and noblest of men. He takes it upon himself to bring a smile to Roxane's face. Cyrano is a ray of sunshine in her life and in the lives of the nuns. He hides his poverty with his pride, his wit, and his charm.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/act_5_chapters_2_to_3.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_23_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 5.scenes 2-3

act 5 scenes 2-3

{"name": "Act V -- Scenes 2-3", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scenes-23", "summary": "Roxane is talking to De Guiche, who is now the Duc de Grammont. Roxane has lived in the convent in mourning for all these years, always carrying \"Christian's last letter\" next to her heart. Le Bret enters. They worry about Cyrano, who always seems to be cold, hungry, and alone, and whose writings have made him new enemies. De Guiche admits that, in spite of all he has and all that Cyrano lacks, Cyrano in his poverty is the better and happier man. In other words, things of the spirit are of more value and are nobler than material things. De Guiche then calls Le Bret aside and tells him that Cyrano is in danger of his life. As Roxane walks with the duke, Ragueneau enters hurriedly. He tells Le Bret that Cyrano has had an \"accident\" -- someone has dropped a heavy log of wood on his head as he passed beneath a window. Ragueneau has carried Cyrano to his room. The two men hurry to him.", "analysis": "We learn that, while De Guiche has mellowed, Cyrano is much the same. Independent, outspoken, fearless, witty, he has antagonized many important men with his satires. This is reminiscent of Ligniere in Act I. Ragueneau is still the \"utility\" character, a faithful friend of Cyrano. Notice that De Guiche praises Cyrano before he hears of the accident. The friends have been faithful to each other. While this is some 14 years later, it is worth remembering that Roxane must have been quite young at the beginning of the play and could hardly be more than about thirty-five years old now. In those times, when the aging process was faster and the life expectancy much shorter, she would be, at the very least, approaching middle age. Nonetheless, De Guiche and Cyrano still look upon Roxane as a beautiful and desirable woman. There is irony in the fact that the letter that Roxane carries next to her heart is the one that Cyrano gave to Christian in Act IV, and which was found on Christian's body."}

Roxane; the Duke de Grammont, formerly Count de Guiche. Then Le Bret and Ragueneau. THE DUKE: And you stay here still--ever vainly fair, Ever in weeds? ROXANE: Ever. THE DUKE: Still faithful? ROXANE: Still. THE DUKE (after a pause): Am I forgiven? ROXANE: Ay, since I am here. (Another pause.) THE DUKE: His was a soul, you say?. . . ROXANE: Ah!--when you knew him! THE DUKE: Ah, may be!. . .I, perchance, too little knew him! . . .And his last letter, ever next your heart? ROXANE: Hung from this chain, a gentle scapulary. THE DUKE: And, dead, you love him still? ROXANE: At times,--meseems He is but partly dead--our hearts still speak, As if his love, still living, wrapped me round! THE DUKE (after another pause): Cyrano comes to see you? ROXANE: Often, ay. Dear, kind old friend! We call him my 'Gazette.' He never fails to come: beneath this tree They place his chair, if it be fine:--I wait, I broider;--the clock strikes;--at the last stroke I hear,--for now I never turn to look-- Too sure to hear his cane tap down the steps; He seats himself:--with gentle raillery He mocks my tapestry that's never done; He tells me all the gossip of the week. . . (Le Bret appears on the steps): Why, here's Le Bret! (Le Bret descends): How goes it with our friend? LE BRET: Ill!--very ill. THE DUKE: How? ROXANE (to the Duke): He exaggerates! LE BRET: All that I prophesied: desertion, want!. . . His letters now make him fresh enemies!-- Attacking the sham nobles, sham devout, Sham brave,--the thieving authors,--all the world! ROXANE: Ah! but his sword still holds them all in check; None get the better of him. THE DUKE (shaking his head): Time will show! LE BRET: Ah, but I fear for him--not man's attack,-- Solitude--hunger--cold December days, That wolf-like steal into his chamber drear:-- Lo! the assassins that I fear for him! Each day he tightens by one hole his belt: That poor nose--tinted like old ivory: He has retained one shabby suit of serge. THE DUKE: Ay, there is one who has no prize of Fortune!-- Yet is not to be pitied! LE BRET (with a bitter smile): My Lord Marshal!. . . THE DUKE: Pity him not! He has lived out his vows, Free in his thoughts, as in his actions free! LE BRET (in the same tone): My Lord!. . . THE DUKE (haughtily): True! I have all, and he has naught;. . . Yet I were proud to take his hand! (Bowing to Roxane): Adieu! ROXANE: I go with you. (The Duke bows to Le Bret, and goes with Roxane toward the steps.) THE DUKE (pausing, while she goes up): Ay, true,--I envy him. Look you, when life is brimful of success --Though the past hold no action foul--one feels A thousand self-disgusts, of which the sum Is not remorse, but a dim, vague unrest; And, as one mounts the steps of worldly fame, The Duke's furred mantles trail within their folds A sound of dead illusions, vain regrets, A rustle--scarce a whisper--like as when, Mounting the terrace steps, by your mourning robe Sweeps in its train the dying autumn leaves. ROXANE (ironically): You are pensive? THE DUKE: True! I am! (As he is going out, suddenly): Monsieur Le Bret! (To Roxane): A word, with your permission? (He goes to Le Bret, and in a low voice): True, that none Dare to attack your friend;--but many hate him; Yesterday, at the Queen's card-play, 'twas said 'That Cyrano may die--by accident!' Let him stay in--be prudent! LE BRET (raising his arms to heaven): Prudent! He!. . . He's coming here. I'll warn him--but!. . . ROXANE (who has stayed on the steps, to a sister who comes toward her): What is it? THE SISTER: Ragueneau would see you, Madame. ROXANE: Let him come. (To the Duke and Le Bret): He comes to tell his troubles. Having been An author (save the mark!)--poor fellow--now By turns he's singer. . . LE BRET: Bathing-man. . . ROXANE: Then actor. . . LE BRET: Beadle. . . ROXANE: Wig-maker. . . LE BRET: Teacher of the lute. . . ROXANE: What will he be to-day, by chance? RAGUENEAU (entering hurriedly): Ah! Madame! (He sees Le Bret): Ah! you here, Sir! ROXANE (smiling): Tell all your miseries To him; I will return anon. RAGUENEAU: But, Madame. . . (Roxane goes out with the Duke. Ragueneau goes toward Le Bret.) Le Bret, Ragueneau. RAGUENEAU: Since you are here, 'tis best she should not know! I was going to your friend just now--was but A few steps from the house, when I saw him Go out. I hurried to him. Saw him turn The corner. . .suddenly, from out a window Where he was passing--was it chance?. . .may be! A lackey let fall a large piece of wood. LE BRET: Cowards! O Cyrano! RAGUENEAU: I ran--I saw. . . LE BRET: 'Tis hideous! RAGUENEAU: Saw our poet, Sir--our friend-- Struck to the ground--a large wound in his head! LE BRET: He's dead? RAGUENEAU: No--but--I bore him to his room. . . Ah! his room! What a thing to see!--that garret! LE BRET: He suffers? RAGUENEAU: No, his consciousness has flown. LE BRET: Saw you a doctor? RAGUENEAU: One was kind--he came. LE BRET: My poor Cyrano!--We must not tell this To Roxane suddenly.--What said this leech?-- RAGUENEAU: Said,--what, I know not--fever, meningitis!-- Ah! could you see him--all his head bound up!-- But let us haste!--There's no one by his bed!-- And if he try to rise, Sir, he might die! LE BRET (dragging him toward the right): Come! Through the chapel! 'Tis the quickest way! ROXANE (appearing on the steps, and seeing Le Bret go away by the colonnade leading to the chapel door): Monsieur le Bret! (Le Bret and Ragueneau disappear without answering): Le Bret goes--when I call! 'Tis some new trouble of good Ragueneau's. (She descends the steps.)

Act V -- Scenes 2-3

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scenes-23

Roxane is talking to De Guiche, who is now the Duc de Grammont. Roxane has lived in the convent in mourning for all these years, always carrying "Christian's last letter" next to her heart. Le Bret enters. They worry about Cyrano, who always seems to be cold, hungry, and alone, and whose writings have made him new enemies. De Guiche admits that, in spite of all he has and all that Cyrano lacks, Cyrano in his poverty is the better and happier man. In other words, things of the spirit are of more value and are nobler than material things. De Guiche then calls Le Bret aside and tells him that Cyrano is in danger of his life. As Roxane walks with the duke, Ragueneau enters hurriedly. He tells Le Bret that Cyrano has had an "accident" -- someone has dropped a heavy log of wood on his head as he passed beneath a window. Ragueneau has carried Cyrano to his room. The two men hurry to him.

We learn that, while De Guiche has mellowed, Cyrano is much the same. Independent, outspoken, fearless, witty, he has antagonized many important men with his satires. This is reminiscent of Ligniere in Act I. Ragueneau is still the "utility" character, a faithful friend of Cyrano. Notice that De Guiche praises Cyrano before he hears of the accident. The friends have been faithful to each other. While this is some 14 years later, it is worth remembering that Roxane must have been quite young at the beginning of the play and could hardly be more than about thirty-five years old now. In those times, when the aging process was faster and the life expectancy much shorter, she would be, at the very least, approaching middle age. Nonetheless, De Guiche and Cyrano still look upon Roxane as a beautiful and desirable woman. There is irony in the fact that the letter that Roxane carries next to her heart is the one that Cyrano gave to Christian in Act IV, and which was found on Christian's body.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/49.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_24_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 5.scene 4

act 5 scene 4

{"name": "Act V -- Scene 4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-4", "summary": "Roxane is alone. Two nuns bring Cyrano's favorite chair and place it under the tree in the courtyard. The leaves are falling and Cyrano is late. This is so unusual that Roxane is worried about him. Then a sister announces his arrival.", "analysis": "As Cyrano was a faithful writer, he is now a faithful visitor. His weekly visits to Roxane considerably brighten her self-imposed retirement. The nuns also obviously look forward to seeing Cyrano. He is the sort of man who could be very popular and tactful, and the nuns' attitudes toward him are altogether in character. One may also contrast Cyrano's constancy with the apparent neglect that De Guiche has shown Roxane. Rostand uses some rather obvious symbolism here. The leaves are falling from the tree, indicating the approach of winter when everything dies, at least for a while. Cyrano, too, is fast approaching his end."}

Roxane alone. Two sisters, for a moment. ROXANE: Ah! what a beauty in September's close! My sorrow's eased. April's joy dazzled it, But autumn wins it with her dying calm. (She seats herself at the embroidery frame. Two sisters come out of the house, and bring a large armchair under the tree): There comes the famous armchair where he sits, Dear faithful friend! SISTER MARTHA: It is the parlor's best! ROXANE: Thanks, sister. (The sisters go): He'll be here now. (She seats herself. A clock strikes): The hour strikes. --My silks?--Why, now, the hour's struck! How strange To be behind his time, at last, to-day! Perhaps the portress--where's my thimble?. . . Here!--Is preaching to him. (A pause): Yes, she must be preaching! Surely he must come soon!--Ah, a dead leaf!-- (She brushes off the leaf from her work): Nothing, besides, could--scissors?--In my bag! --Could hinder him. . . A SISTER (coming to the steps): Monsieur de Bergerac.

Act V -- Scene 4

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-4

Roxane is alone. Two nuns bring Cyrano's favorite chair and place it under the tree in the courtyard. The leaves are falling and Cyrano is late. This is so unusual that Roxane is worried about him. Then a sister announces his arrival.

As Cyrano was a faithful writer, he is now a faithful visitor. His weekly visits to Roxane considerably brighten her self-imposed retirement. The nuns also obviously look forward to seeing Cyrano. He is the sort of man who could be very popular and tactful, and the nuns' attitudes toward him are altogether in character. One may also contrast Cyrano's constancy with the apparent neglect that De Guiche has shown Roxane. Rostand uses some rather obvious symbolism here. The leaves are falling from the tree, indicating the approach of winter when everything dies, at least for a while. Cyrano, too, is fast approaching his end.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/50.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_25_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 5.scene 5

act 5 scene 5

{"name": "Act V -- Scene 5", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-5", "summary": "Roxane works on her tapestry, and does not notice that Cyrano is pale. Sister Marthe, whom he teases as usual, thinks that his pallor is caused by hunger. Cyrano begins his witty, amusing account of the week's gossip, and then nearly faints for a moment. He asks to see Roxane's last letter from Christian. Roxane gives it to him, and he reads it aloud. Roxane recognizes the voice that she heard under her balcony so long ago. She realizes that it is dark, that Cyrano could not be reading the letter but must be quoting from memory. She understands the deception at last, and knows that it is Cyrano whom she loved.", "analysis": "Rostand has carefully prepared the audience for the significance of the letter. The scene is poignant, thoroughly romantic, and thoroughly in character for Cyrano. He could not have told her earlier that the husband she mourned was not the author of the letters or of the romantic speeches. He has lived his life as he wished, content with seeing her once each Saturday, and free to write what he wanted. Roxane cannot be told the truth; she must divine it. Through all the years she has been faithful to Christian , and this must have pleased Cyrano."}

Roxane, Cyrano and, for a moment, Sister Martha. ROXANE (without turning round): What was I saying?. . . (She embroiders. Cyrano, very pale, his hat pulled down over his eyes, appears. The sister who had announced him retires. He descends the steps slowly, with a visible difficulty in holding himself upright, bearing heavily on his cane. Roxane still works at her tapestry): Time has dimmed the tints. . . How harmonize them now? (To Cyrano, with playful reproach): For the first time Late!--For the first time, all these fourteen years! CYRANO (who has succeeded in reaching the chair, and has seated himself--in a lively voice, which is in great contrast with his pale face): Ay! It is villainous! I raged--was stayed. . . ROXANE: By?. . . CYRANO: By a bold, unwelcome visitor. ROXANE (absently, working): Some creditor? CYRANO: Ay, cousin,--the last creditor Who has a debt to claim from me. ROXANE: And you Have paid it? CYRANO: No, not yet! I put it off; --Said, 'Cry you mercy; this is Saturday, When I have get a standing rendezvous That naught defers. Call in an hour's time!' ROXANE (carelessly): Oh, well, a creditor can always wait! I shall not let you go ere twilight falls. CYRANO: Haply, perforce, I quit you ere it falls! (He shuts his eyes, and is silent for a moment. Sister Martha crosses the park from the chapel to the flight of steps. Roxane, seeing her, signs to her to approach.) ROXANE (to Cyrano): How now? You have not teased the Sister? CYRANO (hastily opening his eyes): True! (In a comically loud voice): Sister! come here! (The sister glides up to him): Ha! ha! What? Those bright eyes Bent ever on the ground? SISTER MARTHA (who makes a movement of astonishment on seeing his face): Oh! CYRANO (in a whisper, pointing to Roxane): Hush! 'tis naught!-- (Loudly, in a blustering voice): I broke fast yesterday! SISTER MARTHA (aside): I know, I know! That's how he is so pale! Come presently To the refectory, I'll make you drink A famous bowl of soup. . .You'll come? CYRANO: Ay, ay! SISTER MARTHA: There, see! You are more reasonable to-day! ROXANE (who hears them whispering): The Sister would convert you? SISTER MARTHA: Nay, not I! CYRANO: Hold! but it's true! You preach to me no more, You, once so glib with holy words! I am Astonished!. . . (With burlesque fury): Stay, I will surprise you too! Hark! I permit you. . . (He pretends to be seeking for something to tease her with, and to have found it): . . .It is something new!-- To--pray for me, to-night, at chapel-time! ROXANE: Oh! oh! CYRANO (laughing): Good Sister Martha is struck dumb! SISTER MARTHA (gently): I did not wait your leave to pray for you. (She goes out.) CYRANO (turning to Roxane, who is still bending over her work): That tapestry! Beshrew me if my eyes Will ever see it finished! ROXANE: I was sure To hear that well-known jest! (A light breeze causes the leaves to fall.) CYRANO: The autumn leaves! ROXANE (lifting her head, and looking down the distant alley): Soft golden brown, like a Venetian's hair. --See how they fall! CYRANO: Ay, see how brave they fall, In their last journey downward from the bough, To rot within the clay; yet, lovely still, Hiding the horror of the last decay, With all the wayward grace of careless flight! ROXANE: What, melancholy--you? CYRANO (collecting himself): Nay, nay, Roxane! ROXANE: Then let the dead leaves fall the way they will. . . And chat. What, have you nothing new to tell, My Court Gazette? CYRANO: Listen. ROXANE: Ah! CYRANO (growing whiter and whiter): Saturday The nineteenth: having eaten to excess Of pear-conserve, the King felt feverish; The lancet quelled this treasonable revolt, And the august pulse beats at normal pace. At the Queen's ball on Sunday thirty score Of best white waxen tapers were consumed. Our troops, they say, have chased the Austrians. Four sorcerers were hanged. The little dog Of Madame d'Athis took a dose. . . ROXANE: I bid You hold your tongue, Monsieur de Bergerac! CYRANO: Monday--not much--Claire changed protector. ROXANE: Oh! CYRANO (whose face changes more and more): Tuesday, the Court repaired to Fontainebleau. Wednesday, the Montglat said to Comte de Fiesque. . . No! Thursday--Mancini, Queen of France! (almost!) Friday, the Monglat to Count Fiesque said--'Yes!' And Saturday the twenty-sixth. . . (He closes his eyes. His head falls forward. Silence.) ROXANE (surprised at his voice ceasing, turns round, looks at him, and rising, terrified): He swoons! (She runs toward him crying): Cyrano! CYRANO (opening his eyes, in an unconcerned voice): What is this? (He sees Roxane bending over him, and, hastily pressing his hat on his head, and shrinking back in his chair): Nay, on my word 'Tis nothing! Let me be! ROXANE: But. . . CYRANO: That old wound Of Arras, sometimes,--as you know. . . ROXANE: Dear friend! CYRANO: 'Tis nothing, 'twill pass soon; (He smiles with an effort): See!--it has passed! ROXANE: Each of us has his wound; ay, I have mine,-- Never healed up--not healed yet, my old wound! (She puts her hand on her breast): 'Tis here, beneath this letter brown with age, All stained with tear-drops, and still stained with blood. (Twilight begins to fall.) CYRANO: His letter! Ah! you promised me one day That I should read it. ROXANE: What would you?--His letter? CYRANO: Yes, I would fain,--to-day. . . ROXANE (giving the bag hung at her neck): See! here it is! CYRANO (taking it): Have I your leave to open? ROXANE: Open--read! (She comes back to her tapestry frame, folds it up, sorts her wools.) CYRANO (reading): 'Roxane, adieu! I soon must die! This very night, beloved; and I Feel my soul heavy with love untold. I die! No more, as in days of old, My loving, longing eyes will feast On your least gesture--ay, the least! I mind me the way you touch your cheek With your finger, softly, as you speak! Ah me! I know that gesture well! My heart cries out!--I cry "Farewell"!' ROXANE: But how you read that letter! One would think. . . CYRANO (continuing to read): 'My life, my love, my jewel, my sweet, My heart has been yours in every beat!' (The shades of evening fall imperceptibly.) ROXANE: You read in such a voice--so strange--and yet-- It is not the first time I hear that voice! (She comes nearer very softly, without his perceiving it, passes behind his chair, and, noiselessly leaning over him, looks at the letter. The darkness deepens.) CYRANO: 'Here, dying, and there, in the land on high, I am he who loved, who loves you,--I. . .' ROXANE (putting her hand on his shoulder): How can you read? It is too dark to see! (He starts, turns, sees her close to him. Suddenly alarmed, he holds his head down. Then in the dusk, which has now completely enfolded them, she says, very slowly, with clasped hands): And, fourteen years long, he has played this part Of the kind old friend who comes to laugh and chat. CYRANO: Roxane! ROXANE: 'Twas you! CYRANO: No, never; Roxane, no! ROXANE: I should have guessed, each time he said my name! CYRANO: No, it was not I! ROXANE: It was you! CYRANO: I swear! ROXANE: I see through all the generous counterfeit-- The letters--you! CYRANO: No. ROXANE: The sweet, mad love-words! You! CYRANO: No! ROXANE: The voice that thrilled the night--you, you! CYRANO: I swear you err. ROXANE: The soul--it was your soul! CYRANO: I loved you not. ROXANE: You loved me not? CYRANO: 'Twas he! ROXANE: You loved me! CYRANO: No! ROXANE: See! how you falter now! CYRANO: No, my sweet love, I never loved you! ROXANE: Ah! Things dead, long dead, see! how they rise again! --Why, why keep silence all these fourteen years, When, on this letter, which he never wrote, The tears were your tears? CYRANO (holding out the letter to her): The bloodstains were his. ROXANE: Why, then, that noble silence,--kept so long-- Broken to-day for the first time--why? CYRANO: Why?. . . (Le Bret and Ragueneau enter running.)

Act V -- Scene 5

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-5

Roxane works on her tapestry, and does not notice that Cyrano is pale. Sister Marthe, whom he teases as usual, thinks that his pallor is caused by hunger. Cyrano begins his witty, amusing account of the week's gossip, and then nearly faints for a moment. He asks to see Roxane's last letter from Christian. Roxane gives it to him, and he reads it aloud. Roxane recognizes the voice that she heard under her balcony so long ago. She realizes that it is dark, that Cyrano could not be reading the letter but must be quoting from memory. She understands the deception at last, and knows that it is Cyrano whom she loved.

Rostand has carefully prepared the audience for the significance of the letter. The scene is poignant, thoroughly romantic, and thoroughly in character for Cyrano. He could not have told her earlier that the husband she mourned was not the author of the letters or of the romantic speeches. He has lived his life as he wished, content with seeing her once each Saturday, and free to write what he wanted. Roxane cannot be told the truth; she must divine it. Through all the years she has been faithful to Christian , and this must have pleased Cyrano.

cliffnotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/51.txt

finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_26_part_0.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act 5.scene 6

act 5 scene 6

{"name": "Act V -- Scene 6", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-6", "summary": "Le Bret and Ragueneau enter. Cyrano says that he has barely missed everything in life -- including a noble death. Ragueneau says that Moliere has stolen a scene from one of Cyrano's plays and that it has been very well received. Cyrano says that that is the way his life has been -- Moliere has the genius; Christian had the beauty. Cyrano compares himself and Roxane to the fable of \"Beauty and the Beast,\" then thanks Roxane for her friendship. He dies praising his unsullied white plume -- his integrity.", "analysis": "Cyrano did not lack any quality that would have given him a more successful life, but he lacked the right combination of qualities. He was notably self-confident with a sword or pen in his hand, but was so ashamed of his ugliness that he did not try to win Roxane. He did not lack genius, because we see that the stolen act of his play is very popular, but he refused to try to get along with the \"right\" people. In fact, Cyrano prized his independence, his unique and unfettered style, above any worldly success. Just as it is nobler to weep for a spiritual reason than a physical one, so it was nobler to live for his moral and spiritual principles than for physical or worldly success. As he remarked in Act I, his elegances are spiritual, or moral, ones. De Guiche acknowledged this earlier in this act, when he admitted that with all his wealth and power, he was neither as good nor as happy a man as Cyrano. Rostand has managed this last act without any of the melodrama of Act IV. Cyrano's death is gentle, dignified, in character, logical, prepared for, and truly romantic. He does not really regret his life, and he dies with the satisfaction that the one recognition he wanted most -- Roxane's -- is his."}

The same. Le Bret and Ragueneau. LE BRET: What madness! Here? I knew it well! CYRANO (smiling and sitting up): What now? LE BRET: He has brought his death by coming, Madame. ROXANE: God! Ah, then! that faintness of a moment since. . .? CYRANO: Why, true! It interrupted the 'Gazette:' . . .Saturday, twenty-sixth, at dinner-time, Assassination of De Bergerac. (He takes off his hat; they see his head bandaged.) ROXANE: What says he? Cyrano!--His head all bound! Ah, what has chanced? How?--Who?. . . CYRANO: 'To be struck down, Pierced by sword i' the heart, from a hero's hand!' That I had dreamed. O mockery of Fate! --Killed, I! of all men--in an ambuscade! Struck from behind, and by a lackey's hand! 'Tis very well. I am foiled, foiled in all, Even in my death. RAGUENEAU: Ah, Monsieur!. . . CYRANO (holding out his hand to him): Ragueneau, Weep not so bitterly!. . .What do you now, Old comrade? RAGUENEAU (amid his tears): Trim the lights for Moliere's stage. CYRANO: Moliere! RAGUENEAU: Yes; but I shall leave to-morrow. I cannot bear it!--Yesterday, they played 'Scapin'--I saw he'd thieved a scene from you! LE BRET: What! a whole scene? RAGUENEAU: Oh, yes, indeed, Monsieur, The famous one, 'Que Diable allait-il faire?' LE BRET: Moliere has stolen that? CYRANO: Tut! He did well!. . . (to Ragueneau): How went the scene? It told--I think it told? RAGUENEAU (sobbing): Ah! how they laughed! CYRANO: Look you, it was my life To be the prompter every one forgets! (To Roxane): That night when 'neath your window Christian spoke --Under your balcony, you remember? Well! There was the allegory of my whole life: I, in the shadow, at the ladder's foot, While others lightly mount to Love and Fame! Just! very just! Here on the threshold drear Of death, I pay my tribute with the rest, To Moliere's genius,--Christian's fair face! (The chapel-bell chimes. The nuns are seen passing down the alley at the back, to say their office): Let them go pray, go pray, when the bell rings! ROXANE (rising and calling): Sister! Sister! CYRANO (holding her fast): Call no one. Leave me not; When you come back, I should be gone for aye. (The nuns have all entered the chapel. The organ sounds): I was somewhat fain for music--hark! 'tis come. ROXANE: Live, for I love you! CYRANO: No, In fairy tales When to the ill-starred Prince the lady says 'I love you!' all his ugliness fades fast-- But I remain the same, up to the last! ROXANE: I have marred your life--I, I! CYRANO: You blessed my life! Never on me had rested woman's love. My mother even could not find me fair: I had no sister; and, when grown a man, I feared the mistress who would mock at me. But I have had your friendship--grace to you A woman's charm has passed across my path. LE BRET (pointing to the moon, which is seen between the trees): Your other lady-love is come. CYRANO (smiling): I see. ROXANE: I loved but once, yet twice I lose my love! CYRANO: Hark you, Le Bret! I soon shall reach the moon. To-night, alone, with no projectile's aid!. . . LE BRET: What are you saying? CYRANO: I tell you, it is there, There, that they send me for my Paradise, There I shall find at last the souls I love, In exile,--Galileo--Socrates! LE BRET (rebelliously): No, no! It is too clumsy, too unjust! So great a heart! So great a poet! Die Like this? what, die. . .? CYRANO: Hark to Le Bret, who scolds! LE BRET (weeping): Dear friend. . . CYRANO (starting up, his eyes wild): What ho! Cadets of Gascony! The elemental mass--ah yes! The hic. . . LE BRET: His science still--he raves! CYRANO: Copernicus Said. . . ROXANE: Oh! CYRANO: Mais que diable allait-il faire, Mais que diable allait-il faire dans cette galere?. . . Philosopher, metaphysician, Rhymer, brawler, and musician, Famed for his lunar expedition, And the unnumbered duels he fought,-- And lover also,--by interposition!-- Here lies Hercule Savinien De Cyrano de Bergerac, Who was everything, yet was naught. I cry you pardon, but I may not stay; See, the moon-ray that comes to call me hence! (He has fallen back in his chair; the sobs of Roxane recall him to reality; he looks long at her, and, touching her veil): I would not bid you mourn less faithfully That good, brave Christian: I would only ask That when my body shall be cold in clay You wear those sable mourning weeds for two, And mourn awhile for me, in mourning him. ROXANE: I swear it you!. . . CYRANO (shivering violently, then suddenly rising): Not there! what, seated?--no! (They spring toward him): Let no one hold me up-- (He props himself against the tree): Only the tree! (Silence): It comes. E'en now my feet have turned to stone, My hands are gloved with lead! (He stands erect): But since Death comes, I meet him still afoot, (He draws his sword): And sword in hand! LE BRET: Cyrano! ROXANE (half fainting): Cyrano! (All shrink back in terror.) CYRANO: Why, I well believe He dares to mock my nose? Ho! insolent! (He raises his sword): What say you? It is useless? Ay, I know But who fights ever hoping for success? I fought for lost cause, and for fruitless quest! You there, who are you!--You are thousands! Ah! I know you now, old enemies of mine! Falsehood! (He strikes in air with his sword): Have at you! Ha! and Compromise! Prejudice, Treachery!. . . (He strikes): Surrender, I? Parley? No, never! You too, Folly,--you? I know that you will lay me low at last; Let be! Yet I fall fighting, fighting still! (He makes passes in the air, and stops, breathless): You strip from me the laurel and the rose! Take all! Despite you there is yet one thing I hold against you all, and when, to-night, I enter Christ's fair courts, and, lowly bowed, Sweep with doffed casque the heavens' threshold blue, One thing is left, that, void of stain or smutch, I bear away despite you. (He springs forward, his sword raised; it falls from his hand; he staggers, falls back into the arms of Le Bret and Ragueneau.) ROXANE (bending and kissing his forehead): 'Tis?. . . CYRANO (opening his eyes, recognizing her, and smiling): MY PANACHE. Curtain.

Act V -- Scene 6

https://web.archive.org/web/20201219142306/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/c/cyrano-de-bergerac/summary-and-analysis/act-v-8212-scene-6

Le Bret and Ragueneau enter. Cyrano says that he has barely missed everything in life -- including a noble death. Ragueneau says that Moliere has stolen a scene from one of Cyrano's plays and that it has been very well received. Cyrano says that that is the way his life has been -- Moliere has the genius; Christian had the beauty. Cyrano compares himself and Roxane to the fable of "Beauty and the Beast," then thanks Roxane for her friendship. He dies praising his unsullied white plume -- his integrity.

Cyrano did not lack any quality that would have given him a more successful life, but he lacked the right combination of qualities. He was notably self-confident with a sword or pen in his hand, but was so ashamed of his ugliness that he did not try to win Roxane. He did not lack genius, because we see that the stolen act of his play is very popular, but he refused to try to get along with the "right" people. In fact, Cyrano prized his independence, his unique and unfettered style, above any worldly success. Just as it is nobler to weep for a spiritual reason than a physical one, so it was nobler to live for his moral and spiritual principles than for physical or worldly success. As he remarked in Act I, his elegances are spiritual, or moral, ones. De Guiche acknowledged this earlier in this act, when he admitted that with all his wealth and power, he was neither as good nor as happy a man as Cyrano. Rostand has managed this last act without any of the melodrama of Act IV. Cyrano's death is gentle, dignified, in character, logical, prepared for, and truly romantic. He does not really regret his life, and he dies with the satisfaction that the one recognition he wanted most -- Roxane's -- is his.

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/2.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_0_part_1.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act i.scene i

act i, scene i

{"name": "act i, scene i", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/", "summary": "In the year 1640, the Hall of the Hotel de Bourgogne--a large, crowded Parisian theater--buzzes with activity in the minutes before a performance of the play La Clorise. People mill about and converse, divided according to their social class. A citizen guides his son through the room, impressing upon him the intellectual magnitude of the performance. A thief moves through the crowd, stealing handkerchiefs and purses. A group of pages runs about firing peashooters at one another. Two elegant marquises, with swords strapped to their waists, tread through the crowd, aloof and condescending. The lamps are lit, and the crowd cheers, knowing the performance will commence soon", "analysis": ""}

The public, arriving by degrees. Troopers, burghers, lackeys, pages, a pickpocket, the doorkeeper, etc., followed by the marquises. Cuigy, Brissaille, the buffet-girl, the violinists, etc. (A confusion of loud voices is heard outside the door. A trooper enters hastily.) THE DOORKEEPER (following him): Hollo! You there! Your money! THE TROOPER: I enter gratis. THE DOORKEEPER: Why? THE TROOPER: Why? I am of the King's Household Cavalry, 'faith! THE DOORKEEPER (to another trooper who enters): And you? SECOND TROOPER: I pay nothing. THE DOORKEEPER: How so? SECOND TROOPER: I am a musketeer. FIRST TROOPER (to the second): The play will not begin till two. The pit is empty. Come, a bout with the foils to pass the time. (They fence with the foils they have brought.) A LACKEY (entering): Pst. . .Flanquin. . .! ANOTHER (already there): Champagne?. . . THE FIRST (showing him cards and dice which he takes from his doublet): See, here be cards and dice. (He seats himself on the floor): Let's play. THE SECOND (doing the same): Good; I am with you, villain! FIRST LACKEY (taking from his pocket a candle-end, which he lights, and sticks on the floor): I made free to provide myself with light at my master's expense! A GUARDSMAN (to a shop-girl who advances): 'Twas prettily done to come before the lights were lit! (He takes her round the waist.) ONE OF THE FENCERS (receiving a thrust): A hit! ONE OF THE CARD-PLAYERS: Clubs! THE GUARDSMAN (following the girl): A kiss! THE SHOP-GIRL (struggling to free herself): They're looking! THE GUARDSMAN (drawing her to a dark corner): No fear! No one can see! A MAN (sitting on the ground with others, who have brought their provisions): By coming early, one can eat in comfort. A BURGHER (conducting his son): Let us sit here, son. A CARD-PLAYER: Triple ace! A MAN (taking a bottle from under his cloak, and also seating himself on the floor): A tippler may well quaff his Burgundy (he drinks): in the Burgundy Hotel! THE BURGHER (to his son): 'Faith! A man might think he had fallen in a bad house here! (He points with his cane to the drunkard): What with topers! (One of the fencers in breaking off, jostles him): brawlers! (He stumbles into the midst of the card-players): gamblers! THE GUARDSMAN (behind him, still teasing the shop-girl): Come, one kiss! THE BURGHER (hurriedly pulling his son away): By all the holies! And this, my boy, is the theater where they played Rotrou erewhile. THE YOUNG MAN: Ay, and Corneille! A TROOP OF PAGES (hand-in-hand, enter dancing the farandole, and singing): Tra' a la, la, la, la, la, la, la, lere. . . THE DOORKEEPER (sternly, to the pages): You pages there, none of your tricks!. . . FIRST PAGE (with an air of wounded dignity): Oh, sir!--such a suspicion!. . . (Briskly, to the second page, the moment the doorkeeper's back is turned): Have you string? THE SECOND: Ay, and a fish-hook with it. FIRST PAGE: We can angle for wigs, then, up there i' th' gallery. A PICKPOCKET (gathering about him some evil-looking youths): Hark ye, young cut-purses, lend an ear, while I give you your first lesson in thieving. SECOND PAGE (calling up to others in the top galleries): You there! Have you peashooters? THIRD PAGE (from above): Ay, have we, and peas withal! (He blows, and peppers them with peas.) THE YOUNG MAN (to his father): What piece do they give us? THE BURGHER: 'Clorise.' THE YOUNG MAN: Who may the author be? THE BURGHER: Master Balthazar Baro. It is a play!. . . (He goes arm-in-arm with his son.) THE PICKPOCKET (to his pupils): Have a care, above all, of the lace knee-ruffles--cut them off! A SPECTATOR (to another, showing him a corner in the gallery): I was up there, the first night of the 'Cid.' THE PICKPOCKET (making with his fingers the gesture of filching): Thus for watches-- THE BURGHER (coming down again with his son): Ah! You shall presently see some renowned actors. . . THE PICKPOCKET (making the gestures of one who pulls something stealthily, with little jerks): Thus for handkerchiefs-- THE BURGHER: Montfleury. . . SOME ONE (shouting from the upper gallery): Light up, below there! THE BURGHER: . . .Bellerose, L'Epy, La Beaupre, Jodelet! A PAGE (in the pit): Here comes the buffet-girl! THE BUFFET-GIRL (taking her place behind the buffet): Oranges, milk, raspberry-water, cedar bitters! (A hubbub outside the door is heard.) A FALSETTO VOICE: Make place, brutes! A LACKEY (astonished): The Marquises!--in the pit?. . . ANOTHER LACKEY: Oh! only for a minute or two! (Enter a band of young marquises.) A MARQUIS (seeing that the hall is half empty): What now! So we make our entrance like a pack of woolen-drapers! Peaceably, without disturbing the folk, or treading on their toes!--Oh, fie! Fie! (Recognizing some other gentlemen who have entered a little before him): Cuigy! Brissaille! (Greetings and embraces.) CUIGY: True to our word!. . .Troth, we are here before the candles are lit. THE MARQUIS: Ay, indeed! Enough! I am of an ill humor. ANOTHER: Nay, nay, Marquis! see, for your consolation, they are coming to light up! ALL THE AUDIENCE (welcoming the entrance of the lighter): Ah!. . . (They form in groups round the lusters as they are lit. Some people have taken their seats in the galleries. Ligniere, a distinguished-looking roue, with disordered shirt-front arm-in-arm with christian de Neuvillette. Christian, who is dressed elegantly, but rather behind the fashion, seems preoccupied, and keeps looking at the boxes.)

act i, scene i

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/

In the year 1640, the Hall of the Hotel de Bourgogne--a large, crowded Parisian theater--buzzes with activity in the minutes before a performance of the play La Clorise. People mill about and converse, divided according to their social class. A citizen guides his son through the room, impressing upon him the intellectual magnitude of the performance. A thief moves through the crowd, stealing handkerchiefs and purses. A group of pages runs about firing peashooters at one another. Two elegant marquises, with swords strapped to their waists, tread through the crowd, aloof and condescending. The lamps are lit, and the crowd cheers, knowing the performance will commence soon

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/4.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_0_part_3.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act i.scene iii

act i, scene iii

{"name": "Act I, scene iii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/", "summary": "The two marquises discuss de Guiche distastefully as he walks toward them. Christian observes their exchange. Christian decides to challenge de Guiche's lackey, Valvert, to a duel; as he reaches for his glove, with which he plans to challenge Valvert by slapping him in the face with it, he catches the hand of a pickpocket. In exchange for his release, the thief tells Christian that Ligniere's latest satire has offended a powerful man, who has arranged for Ligniere to be ambushed by a hundred men later that night on his way home. Christian leaves to save Ligniere. The crowd begins to chant for the play. Three raps sound from the stage, and the crowd becomes quiet. The curtains open. The violins play. Le Bret and Ragueneau decide that Cyrano must not be in the audience since Montfleury, the actor whom Cyrano detests, is about to make his entrance. Dressed as a shepherd, the pudgy actor walks onto the stage and begins to deliver a speech. Suddenly, a voice from the crowd cries out, \"Haven't I ordered you off the stage for a month, you wretched scoundrel. The speaker is hidden, but Le Bret knows it must be Cyrano. Montfleury makes several attempts to begin his lines, but the heckling speaker continues to interrupt him. Cyrano finally stands upon his chair, and his appearance creates a stir throughout the audience.", "analysis": "Act I, scenes i-iii This long scene introduces a host of important characters, the main facts of the story, and a suspenseful, miniature story line designed to demonstrate the overwhelming character of Cyrano de Bergerac. The exchanges between the characters in the first two scenes provide the ground for the subsequent action of the play, heightening the suspense surrounding Cyrano's character by keeping him physically absent until just after the performance begins. Cyrano stands apart from the rest of the characters, who appear to be somewhat dull and predictable. Rostand's play romanticizes an era that was looked upon nostalgically by some nineteenth-century writers. Written around 1897, Cyrano de Bergerac is set in 1640. The play is not a realistic interpretation of the time it describes, but rather a historical romance, designed to evoke the glory of France during the age of Louis XIII and to provide an entertaining escape for its audience. The play takes many of its stereotypical representations from Dumas's popular novel The Three Musketeers. Several references to Dumas's work appear in the play"}

The same, all but Ligniere. De Guiche, Valvert, then Montfleury. A marquis (watching De Guiche, who comes down from Roxane's box, and crosses the pit surrounded by obsequious noblemen, among them the Viscount de Valvert): He pays a fine court, your De Guiche! ANOTHER: Faugh!. . .Another Gascon! THE FIRST: Ay, but the cold, supple Gascon--that is the stuff success is made of! Believe me, we had best make our bow to him. (They go toward De Guiche.) SECOND MARQUIS: What fine ribbons! How call you the color, Count de Guiche? 'Kiss me, my darling,' or 'Timid Fawn?' DE GUICHE: 'Tis the color called 'Sick Spaniard.' FIRST MARQUIS: 'Faith! The color speaks truth, for, thanks to your valor, things will soon go ill for Spain in Flanders. DE GUICHE: I go on the stage! Will you come? (He goes toward the stage, followed by the marquises and gentlemen. Turning, he calls): Come you Valvert! CHRISTIAN (who is watching and listening, starts on hearing this name): The Viscount! Ah! I will throw full in his face my. . . (He puts his hand in his pocket, and finds there the hand of a pickpocket who is about to rob him. He turns round): Hey? THE PICKPOCKET: Oh! CHRISTIAN (holding him tightly): I was looking for a glove. THE PICKPOCKET (smiling piteously): And you find a hand. (Changing his tone, quickly and in a whisper): Let me but go, and I will deliver you a secret. CHRISTIAN (still holding him): What is it? THE PICKPOCKET: Ligniere. . .he who has just left you. . . CHRISTIAN (same play): Well? THE PICKPOCKET: His life is in peril. A song writ by him has given offense in high places-- and a hundred men--I am of them--are posted to-night. . . CHRISTIAN: A hundred men! By whom posted? THE PICKPOCKET: I may not say--a secret. . . CHRISTIAN (shrugging his shoulders): Oh! THE PICKPOCKET (with great dignity): . . .Of the profession. CHRISTIAN: Where are they posted? THE PICKPOCKET: At the Porte de Nesle. On his way homeward. Warn him. CHRISTIAN (letting go of his wrists): But where can I find him? THE PICKPOCKET: Run round to all the taverns--The Golden Wine Press, the Pine Cone, The Belt that Bursts, The Two Torches, The Three Funnels, and at each leave a word that shall put him on his guard. CHRISTIAN: Good--I fly! Ah, the scoundrels! A hundred men 'gainst one! (Looking lovingly at Roxane): Ah, to leave her!. . . (looking with rage at Valvert): and him!. . .But save Ligniere I must! (He hurries out. De Guiche, the viscount, the marquises, have all disappeared behind the curtain to take their places on the benches placed on the stage. The pit is quite full; the galleries and boxes are also crowded.) THE AUDIENCE: Begin! A BURGHER (whose wig is drawn up on the end of a string by a page in the upper gallery): My wig! CRIES OF DELIGHT: He is bald! Bravo, pages--ha! ha! ha!. . . THE BURGHER (furious, shaking his fist): Young villain! LAUGHTER AND CRIES (beginning very loud, and dying gradually away): Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! (Total silence.) LE BRET (astonished): What means this sudden silence?. . . (A spectator says something to him in a low voice): Is't true? THE SPECTATOR: I have just heard it on good authority. MURMURS (spreading through the hall): Hush! Is it he? No! Ay, I say! In the box with the bars in front! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! A PAGE: The devil! We shall have to behave ourselves. . . (A knock is heard upon the stage. Every one is motionless. A pause.) THE VOICE OF A MARQUIS (in the silence, behind the curtain): Snuff that candle! ANOTHER MARQUIS (putting his head through the opening in the curtain): A chair! (A chair is passed from hand to hand, over the heads of the spectators. The marquis takes it and disappears, after blowing some kisses to the boxes.) A SPECTATOR: Silence! (Three knocks are heard on the stage. The curtain opens in the centre Tableau. The marquises in insolent attitudes seated on each side of the stage. The scene represents a pastoral landscape. Four little lusters light the stage; the violins play softly.) LE BRET (in a low voice to Ragueneau): Montfleury comes on the scene? RAGUENEAU (also in a low voice): Ay, 'tis he who begins. LE BRET: Cyrano is not here. RAGUENEAU: I have lost my wager. LE BRET: 'Tis all the better! (An air on the drone-pipes is heard, and Montfleury enters, enormously stout, in an Arcadian shepherd's dress, a hat wreathed with roses drooping over one ear, blowing into a ribboned drone pipe.) THE PIT (applauding): Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury! MONTFLEURY (after bowing low, begins the part of Phedon): 'Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu solitaire, Se prescrit a soi-meme un exil volontaire, Et qui, lorsque Zephire a souffle sur les bois. . .' A VOICE (from the middle of the pit): Villain! Did I not forbid you to show your face here for month? (General stupor. Every one turns round. Murmurs.) DIFFERENT VOICES: Hey?--What?--What is't?. . . (The people stand up in the boxes to look.) CUIGY: 'Tis he! LE BRET (terrified): Cyrano! THE VOICE: King of clowns! Leave the stage this instant! ALL THE AUDIENCE (indignantly): Oh! MONTFLEURY: But. . . THE VOICE: Do you dare defy me? DIFFERENT VOICES (from the pit and the boxes): Peace! Enough!--Play on, Montfleury--fear nothing! MONTFLEURY (in a trembling voice): 'Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu sol--' THE VOICE (more fiercely): Well! Chief of all the blackguards, must I come and give you a taste of my cane? (A hand holding a cane starts up over the heads of the spectators.) MONTFLEURY (in a voice that trembles more and more): 'Heureux qui. . .' (The cane is shaken.) THE VOICE: Off the stage! THE PIT: Oh! MONTFLEURY (choking): 'Heureux qui loin des cours. . .' CYRANO (appearing suddenly in the pit, standing on a chair, his arms crossed, his beaver cocked fiercely, his mustache bristling, his nose terrible to see): Ah! I shall be angry in a minute!. . . (Sensation.)

Act I, scene iii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/

The two marquises discuss de Guiche distastefully as he walks toward them. Christian observes their exchange. Christian decides to challenge de Guiche's lackey, Valvert, to a duel; as he reaches for his glove, with which he plans to challenge Valvert by slapping him in the face with it, he catches the hand of a pickpocket. In exchange for his release, the thief tells Christian that Ligniere's latest satire has offended a powerful man, who has arranged for Ligniere to be ambushed by a hundred men later that night on his way home. Christian leaves to save Ligniere. The crowd begins to chant for the play. Three raps sound from the stage, and the crowd becomes quiet. The curtains open. The violins play. Le Bret and Ragueneau decide that Cyrano must not be in the audience since Montfleury, the actor whom Cyrano detests, is about to make his entrance. Dressed as a shepherd, the pudgy actor walks onto the stage and begins to deliver a speech. Suddenly, a voice from the crowd cries out, "Haven't I ordered you off the stage for a month, you wretched scoundrel. The speaker is hidden, but Le Bret knows it must be Cyrano. Montfleury makes several attempts to begin his lines, but the heckling speaker continues to interrupt him. Cyrano finally stands upon his chair, and his appearance creates a stir throughout the audience.

Act I, scenes i-iii This long scene introduces a host of important characters, the main facts of the story, and a suspenseful, miniature story line designed to demonstrate the overwhelming character of Cyrano de Bergerac. The exchanges between the characters in the first two scenes provide the ground for the subsequent action of the play, heightening the suspense surrounding Cyrano's character by keeping him physically absent until just after the performance begins. Cyrano stands apart from the rest of the characters, who appear to be somewhat dull and predictable. Rostand's play romanticizes an era that was looked upon nostalgically by some nineteenth-century writers. Written around 1897, Cyrano de Bergerac is set in 1640. The play is not a realistic interpretation of the time it describes, but rather a historical romance, designed to evoke the glory of France during the age of Louis XIII and to provide an entertaining escape for its audience. The play takes many of its stereotypical representations from Dumas's popular novel The Three Musketeers. Several references to Dumas's work appear in the play

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/5.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_0_part_4.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act i.scene iv

act i, scene iv

{"name": "Act I, scene iv", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/", "summary": "In Act I, scene iv, after Cyrano fights in a dramatic duel, his friend Cuigy wittily claims that Cyrano's name is Dartagnan. Later, Le Bret admonishes Cyrano to \"stop trying to be Three Musketeers in one. The opening scenes emphasize the importance of the theater in seventeenth-century France. The theater patrons include thieves, lackeys, pages, and cavaliers--a veritable cross section of French society at the time. Several patrons come to the theater to do everything but watch the play. Some pick pockets, others play cards, others want to be seen and improve their social status. Rostand parodies inattentive audiences and supposedly bad actors like Montfleury to provide a critique of the theater of his era. By opening the play with such a critical portrayal, Rostand captures the audience's attention and subtly encourages them to listen up and behave appropriately", "analysis": ""}

The same. Cyrano, then Bellerose, Jodelet. MONTFLEURY (to the marquises): Come to my help, my lords! A MARQUIS (carelessly): Go on! Go on! CYRANO: Fat man, take warning! If you go on, I Shall feel myself constrained to cuff your face! THE MARQUIS: Have done! CYRANO: And if these lords hold not their tongue Shall feel constrained to make them taste my cane! ALL THE MARQUISES (rising): Enough!. . .Montfleury. . . CYRANO: If he goes not quick I will cut off his ears and slit him up! A VOICE: But. . . CYRANO: Out he goes! ANOTHER VOICE: Yet. . . CYRANO: Is he not gone yet? (He makes the gesture of turning up his cuffs): Good! I shall mount the stage now, buffet-wise, To carve this fine Italian sausage--thus! MONTFLEURY (trying to be dignified): You outrage Thalia in insulting me! CYRANO (very politely): If that Muse, Sir, who knows you not at all, Could claim acquaintance with you--oh, believe (Seeing how urn-like, fat, and slow you are) That she would make you taste her buskin's sole! THE PIT: Montfleury! Montfleury! Come--Baro's play! CYRANO (to those who are calling out): I pray you have a care! If you go on My scabbard soon will render up its blade! (The circle round him widens.) THE CROWD (drawing back): Take care! CYRANO (to Montfleury): Leave the stage! THE CROWD (coming near and grumbling): Oh!-- CYRANO: Did some one speak? (They draw back again.) A VOICE (singing at the back): Monsieur de Cyrano Displays his tyrannies: A fig for tyrants! What, ho! Come! Play us 'La Clorise!' ALL THE PIT (singing): 'La Clorise!' 'La Clorise!'. . . CYRANO: Let me but hear once more that foolish rhyme, I slaughter every man of you. A BURGHER: Oh! Samson? CYRANO: Yes Samson! Will you lend your jawbone, Sir? A LADY (in the boxes): Outrageous! A LORD: Scandalous! A BURGHER: 'Tis most annoying! A PAGE: Fair good sport! THE PIT: Kss!--Montfleury. . .Cyrano! CYRANO: Silence! THE PIT (wildly excited): Ho-o-o-o-h! Quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo! CYRANO: I order-- A PAGE: Miow! CYRANO: I order silence, all! And challenge the whole pit collectively!-- I write your names!--Approach, young heroes, here! Each in his turn! I cry the numbers out!-- Now which of you will come to ope the lists? You, Sir? No! You? No! The first duellist Shall be dispatched by me with honors due! Let all who long for death hold up their hands! (A silence): Modest? You fear to see my naked blade? Not one name?--Not one hand?--Good, I proceed! (Turning toward the stage, where Montfleury waits in an agony): The theater's too full, congested,--I Would clear it out. . .If not. . . (Puts his hand on his sword): The knife must act! MONTFLEURY: I. . . CYRANO (leaves his chair, and settles himself in the middle of the circle which has formed): I will clap my hands thrice, thus--full moon! At the third clap, eclipse yourself! THE PIT (amused): Ah! CYRANO (clapping his hands): One! MONTFLEURY: I. . . A VOICE (in the boxes): Stay! THE PIT: He stays. . .he goes. . .he stays. . . MONTFLEURY: I think. . .Gentlemen,. . . CYRANO: Two! MONTFLEURY: I think 'twere wisest. . . CYRANO: Three! (Montfleury disappears as through a trap. Tempest of laughs, whistling cries, etc.) THE WHOLE HOUSE: Coward. . .come back! CYRANO (delighted, sits back in his chair, arms crossed): Come back an if you dare! A BURGHER: Call for the orator! (Bellerose comes forward and bows.) THE BOXES: Ah! here's Bellerose! BELLEROSE (elegantly): My noble lords. . . THE PIT: No! no! Jodelet! JODELET (advancing, speaking through his nose): Calves! THE PIT: Ah! bravo! good! go on! JODELET: No bravos, Sirs! The fat tragedian whom you all love Felt. . . THE PIT: Coward! JODELET: . . .was obliged to go. THE PIT: Come back! SOME: No! OTHERS: Yes! A YOUNG MAN (to Cyrano): But pray, Sir, for what reason, say, Hate you Montfleury? CYRANO (graciously, still seated): Youthful gander, know I have two reasons--either will suffice. Primo. An actor villainous! who mouths, And heaves up like a bucket from a well The verses that should, bird-like, fly! Secundo-- That is my secret. . . THE OLD BURGHER (behind him): Shameful! You deprive us Of the 'Clorise!' I must insist. . . CYRANO (turning his chair toward the burgher, respectfully): Old mule! The verses of old Baro are not worth A doit! I'm glad to interrupt. . . THE PRECIEUSES (in the boxes): Our Baro!-- My dear! How dares he venture!. . . CYRANO (turning his chair toward the boxes gallantly): Fairest ones, Radiate, bloom, hold to our lips the cup Of dreams intoxicating, Hebe-like! Or, when death strikes, charm death with your sweet smiles; Inspire our verse, but--criticise it not! BELLEROSE: We must give back the entrance fees! CYRANO (turning his chair toward the stage): Bellerose, You make the first intelligent remark! Would I rend Thespis' sacred mantle? Nay! (He rises and throws a bag on the stage): Catch then the purse I throw, and hold your peace! THE HOUSE (dazzled): Ah! Oh! JODELET (catching the purse dexterously and weighing it): At this price, you've authority To come each night, and stop 'Clorise,' Sir! THE PIT: Ho!. . .Ho! Ho!. . . JODELET: E'en if you chase us in a pack!. . . BELLEROSE: Clear out the hall!. . . JODELET: Get you all gone at once! (The people begin to go out, while Cyrano looks on with satisfaction. But the crowd soon stop on hearing the following scene, and remain where they are. The women, who, with their mantles on, are already standing up in the boxes, stop to listen, and finally reseat themselves.) LE BRET (to Cyrano): 'Tis mad!. . . A BORE (coming up to Cyrano): The actor Montfleury! 'Tis shameful! Why, he's protected by the Duke of Candal! Have you a patron? CYRANO: No! THE BORE: No patron?. . . CYRANO: None! THE BORE: What! no great lord to shield you with his name? CYRANO (irritated): No, I have told you twice! Must I repeat? No! no protector. . . (His hand on his sword): A protectress. . .here! THE BORE: But you must leave the town? CYRANO: Well, that depends! 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 look--knew 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 small--minute! CYRANO: Minute! What now? Accuse me of a thing ridiculous! Small--my 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 cuff--is all As empty. . . (He cuffs him.) THE BORE: Aie! CYRANO: --of pride, of aspiration, Of feeling, poetry--of 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 at--that it is my wont-- An if the jester's noble--ere 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! And--had 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 forth--a half-washed-out Affront upon my cheek--a 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 moved--it'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 Burgundy--fought 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 Scullion--slow your zeal! At the envoi's end, I touch. (He declaims solemnly): Envoi. Prince, pray Heaven for your soul's weal! I move a pace--lo, such! and such! Cut over--feint! (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 (advancing to Cyrano with outstretched hand): Sir, permit; Naught could be finer--I'm a judge I think; I stamped, i' faith!--to show my admiration! (He goes away.) CYRANO (to Cuigy): Who is that gentleman? CUIGY: Why--D'Artagnan! LE BRET (to Cyrano, taking his arm): A word with you!. . . CYRANO: Wait; let the rabble go!. . . (To Bellerose): May I stay? BELLEROSE (respectfully): Without doubt! (Cries are heard outside.) JODELET (who has looked out): They hoot Montfleury! BELLEROSE (solemnly): Sic transit!. . . (To the porters): Sweep--close all, but leave the lights. We sup, but later on we must return, For a rehearsal of to-morrow's farce. (Jodelet and Bellerose go out, bowing low to Cyrano.) THE PORTER (to Cyrano): You do not dine, Sir? CYRANO: No. (The porter goes out.) LE BRET: Because? CYRANO (proudly): Because. . . (Changing his tone as the porter goes away): I have no money!. . . LE BRET (with the action of throwing a bag): How! The bag of crowns?. . . CYRANO: Paternal bounty, in a day, thou'rt sped! LE BRET: How live the next month?. . . CYRANO: I have nothing left. LE BRET: Folly! CYRANO: But what a graceful action! Think! THE BUFFET-GIRL (coughing, behind her counter): Hum! (Cyrano and Le Bret turn. She comes timidly forward): Sir, my heart mislikes to know you fast. (Showing the buffet): See, all you need. Serve yourself! CYRANO (taking off his hat): Gentle child, Although my Gascon pride would else forbid To take the least bestowal from your hands, My fear of wounding you outweighs that pride, And bids accept. . . (He goes to the buffet): A trifle!. . .These few grapes. (She offers him the whole bunch. He takes a few): Nay, but this bunch!. . . (She tries to give him wine, but he stops her): A glass of water fair!. . . And half a macaroon! (He gives back the other half.) LE BRET: What foolery! THE BUFFET-GIRL: Take something else! CYRANO: I take your hand to kiss. (He kisses her hand as though she were a princess.) THE BUFFET-GIRL: Thank you, kind Sir! (She courtesies): Good-night. (She goes out.)

Act I, scene iv

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/

In Act I, scene iv, after Cyrano fights in a dramatic duel, his friend Cuigy wittily claims that Cyrano's name is Dartagnan. Later, Le Bret admonishes Cyrano to "stop trying to be Three Musketeers in one. The opening scenes emphasize the importance of the theater in seventeenth-century France. The theater patrons include thieves, lackeys, pages, and cavaliers--a veritable cross section of French society at the time. Several patrons come to the theater to do everything but watch the play. Some pick pockets, others play cards, others want to be seen and improve their social status. Rostand parodies inattentive audiences and supposedly bad actors like Montfleury to provide a critique of the theater of his era. By opening the play with such a critical portrayal, Rostand captures the audience's attention and subtly encourages them to listen up and behave appropriately

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/6.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_0_part_5.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act i.scene v

act i, scene v

{"name": "Act I, scene v", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/", "summary": "Le Bret reminds Cyrano that his extravagant behavior is making him enemies. Cyrano says that the thought of having so many enemies makes him happy. Cyrano confides in Le Bret that he has insecurities concerning his nose and his romantic failures. He also reveals to Le Bret that he hates Montfleury because one day Montfleury glanced flirtatiously at the woman whom Cyrano loves. Le Bret asks about the woman but quickly realizes that the only woman beautiful and brilliant enough for Cyrano to love must be Roxane. Cyrano says that given his appearance, he can never reveal his love", "analysis": ""}

Cyrano, Le Bret. CYRANO (to Le Bret): Now talk--I listen. (He stands at the buffet, and placing before him first the macaroon): Dinner!. . . (then the grapes): Dessert!. . . (then the glass of water): Wine!. . . (he seats himself): So! And now to table! Ah! I was hungry, friend, nay, ravenous! (eating): You said--? LE BRET: These fops, would-be belligerent, Will, if you heed them only, turn your head!. . . Ask people of good sense if you would know The effect of your fine insolence-- CYRANO (finishing his macaroon): Enormous! LE BRET: The Cardinal. . . CYRANO (radiant): The Cardinal--was there? LE BRET: Must have thought it. . . CYRANO: Original, i' faith! LE BRET: But. . . CYRANO: He's an author. 'Twill not fail to please him That I should mar a brother-author's play. LE BRET: You make too many enemies by far! CYRANO (eating his grapes): How many think you I have made to-night? LE BRET: Forty, no less, not counting ladies. CYRANO: Count! LE BRET: Montfleury first, the bourgeois, then De Guiche, The Viscount, Baro, the Academy. . . CYRANO: Enough! I am o'erjoyed! LE BRET: But these strange ways, Where will they lead you, at the end? Explain Your system--come! CYRANO: I in a labyrinth Was lost--too many different paths to choose; I took. . . LE BRET: Which? CYRANO: Oh! by far the simplest path. . . Decided to be admirable in all! LE BRET (shrugging his shoulders): So be it! But the motive of your hate To Montfleury--come, tell me! CYRANO (rising): This Silenus, Big-bellied, coarse, still deems himself a peril-- A danger to the love of lovely ladies, And, while he sputters out his actor's part, Makes sheep's eyes at their boxes--goggling frog! I hate him since the evening he presumed To raise his eyes to hers. . .Meseemed I saw A slug crawl slavering o'er a flower's petals! LE BRET (stupefied): How now? What? Can it be. . .? CYRANO (laughing bitterly): That I should love?. . . (Changing his tone, gravely): I love. LE BRET: And may I know?. . .You never said. . . CYRANO: Come now, bethink you!. . .The fond hope to be Beloved, e'en by some poor graceless lady, Is, by this nose of mine for aye bereft me; --This lengthy nose which, go where'er I will, Pokes yet a quarter-mile ahead of me; But I may love--and who? 'Tis Fate's decree I love the fairest--how were't otherwise? LE BRET: The fairest?. . . CYRANO: Ay, the fairest of the world, Most brilliant--most refined--most golden-haired! LE BRET: Who is this lady? CYRANO: She's a danger mortal, All unsuspicious--full of charms unconscious, Like a sweet perfumed rose--a snare of nature, Within whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush! He who has seen her smile has known perfection, --Instilling into trifles grace's essence, Divinity in every careless gesture; Not Venus' self can mount her conch blown sea-ward, As she can step into her chaise a porteurs, Nor Dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered, Light as my Lady o'er the stones of Paris!. . . LE BRET: Sapristi! all is clear! CYRANO: As spiderwebs! LE BRET: Your cousin, Madeleine Robin? CYRANO: Roxane! LE BRET: Well, but so much the better! Tell her so! She saw your triumph here this very night! CYRANO: Look well at me--then tell me, with what hope This vile protuberance can inspire my heart! I do not lull me with illusions--yet At times I'm weak: in evening hours dim I enter some fair pleasance, perfumed sweet; With my poor ugly devil of a nose I scent spring's essence--in the silver rays I see some knight--a lady on his arm, And think 'To saunter thus 'neath the moonshine, I were fain to have my lady, too, beside!' Thought soars to ecstasy. . .O sudden fall! --The shadow of my profile on the wall! LE BRET (tenderly): My friend!. . . CYRANO: My friend, at times 'tis hard, 'tis bitter, To feel my loneliness--my own ill-favor. . . LE BRET (taking his hand): You weep? CYRANO: No, never! Think, how vilely suited Adown this nose a tear its passage tracing! I never will, while of myself I'm master, let the divinity of tears--their beauty Be wedded to such common ugly grossness. Nothing more solemn than a tear--sublimer; And I would not by weeping turn to laughter The grave emotion that a tear engenders! LE BRET: Never be sad! What's love?--a chance of Fortune! CYRANO (shaking his head): Look I a Caesar to woo Cleopatra? A Tito to aspire to Berenice? LE BRET: Your courage and your wit!--The little maid Who offered you refreshment even now, Her eyes did not abhor you--you saw well! CYRANO (impressed): True! LE BRET: Well, how then?. . .I saw Roxane herself Was death-pale as she watched the duel. CYRANO: Pale? LE BRET: Her heart, her fancy, are already caught! Put it to th' touch! CYRANO: That she may mock my face? That is the one thing on this earth I fear! THE PORTER (introducing some one to Cyrano): Sir, some one asks for you. . . CYRANO (seeing the duenna): God! her duenna!

Act I, scene v

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/

Le Bret reminds Cyrano that his extravagant behavior is making him enemies. Cyrano says that the thought of having so many enemies makes him happy. Cyrano confides in Le Bret that he has insecurities concerning his nose and his romantic failures. He also reveals to Le Bret that he hates Montfleury because one day Montfleury glanced flirtatiously at the woman whom Cyrano loves. Le Bret asks about the woman but quickly realizes that the only woman beautiful and brilliant enough for Cyrano to love must be Roxane. Cyrano says that given his appearance, he can never reveal his love

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/7.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_0_part_6.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act i.scene vi

act i, scene vi

{"name": "Act I, scene vi", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/", "summary": "Roxane's duenna appears and interrupts their conversation. She has a message for Cyrano: Roxane wants to see him. Tremendously excited, and perhaps a bit nervous, he agrees to meet her at Ragueneau's shop at seven o'clock the next morning", "analysis": ""}

Cyrano, Le Bret, the duenna. THE DUENNA (with a low bow): I was bid ask you where a certain lady Could see her valiant cousin--but in secret. CYRANO (overwhelmed): See me? THE DUENNA (courtesying): Ay, Sir! She has somewhat to tell. CYRANO: Somewhat?. . . THE DUENNA (still courtesying): Ay, private matters! CYRANO (staggering): Ah, my God! THE DUENNA: To-morrow, at the early blush of dawn, We go to hear mass at St. Roch. CYRANO (leaning against Le Bret): My God! THE DUENNA: After--what place for a few minutes' speech? CYRANO (confused): Where? Ah!. . .but. . .Ah, my God!. . . THE DUENNA: Say! CYRANO: I reflect!. . . THE DUENNA: Where? CYRANO: At--the pastry-house of Ragueneau. THE DUENNA: Where lodges he? CYRANO: The Rue--God!--St. Honore! THE DUENNA (going): Good. Be you there. At seven. CYRANO: Without fail. (The duenna goes out.)

Act I, scene vi

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/

Roxane's duenna appears and interrupts their conversation. She has a message for Cyrano: Roxane wants to see him. Tremendously excited, and perhaps a bit nervous, he agrees to meet her at Ragueneau's shop at seven o'clock the next morning

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/8.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_0_part_7.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act i.scene vii

act i, scene vii

{"name": "Act I, scene vii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/", "summary": "Ligniere rushes in. He tells Cyrano about the hundred men waiting at the Porte de Nesle to kill him and announces that he is too afraid to go home. He asks if Cyrano can host him for the evening, but Cyrano scoffs: \"A hundred men, you say. You'll sleep at home tonight. He declares that he will fight all hundred men and escort Ligniere safely home. Le Bret asks why Cyrano would want to help a drunkard, and Cyrano says that he once saw Ligniere drink a whole font of holy water dry after a beautiful woman had blessed herself with it. For a gesture like that, he says, he will -protect Ligniere. The actors and musicians rehearsing in the theater buzz about Cyrano's behavior. He tells them that he wants an audience and that they can follow him. But he warns them that he wants no protection. As he strides boldly out of the theater, the crowd forms a procession to follow him to the Porte de Nestle.", "analysis": "Act I, scenes iv-vii In these scenes, Cyrano appears almost superhuman in his grace, agility, and wit. He demonstrates his uncanny sense of humor and his willingness to laugh at himself and his nose. In standing up to Valvert, he shows off his unparalleled wit, as well as his courage and strength. His ability to compose a ballad while simultaneously displaying his talent for swordfighting is remarkable. His display of modesty and humility toward the theater patrons and the refreshment girl shows his gentlemanly nature. Cyrano's unsightly nose becomes only one of many characteristics that distinguish him from everyone else in the play. This first act establishes Cyrano as uniquely gifted and heroic. More than merely a central character, he is a living legend. Cyrano also shows his humble side in these scenes. He presents his heroism and eclectic skills to the public, and shows his emotional turmoil and self-doubt to his closest friends. He explains to Le Bret that he sometimes becomes depressed because of his nose and because he is not like the other lovers he sees. In some ways, his sense of alienation seems to prompt Cyrano to search for love even more ardently. But he is also unreasonably tough on himself, focusing only on his failures, imperfections, and weaknesses. Rostand subtitles Cyrano de Bergerac a \"heroic comedy,\" a description that applies perfectly to the first act. Cyrano's brash, arrogant behavior is so astonishing that his ridiculously long nose, which might otherwise be the defining feature of his character, is humorous only for a moment. The nose becomes another extraordinary feature of this extraordinary character, and we are moved to laugh with Cyrano rather than at him. Rostand successfully diverts the tendency to fixate on Cyrano's odd appearance by emphasizing his extraordinary character instead. Cyrano's countless displays of wit, valor, and heroism--most notably his resolve to defend Ligniere from a hundred men--make him into an exaggerated stereotype of the swashbuckling, seventeenth-century poet-cavalier. There is an inherent parallel between the audience in the Hotel de Bourgogne and the audience watching Rostand's play. The reactions of the crowd enable us to sense the scope and magnitude of Cyrano's feats. They shout platitudes and celebratory adjectives that help put Cyrano's feats into perspective, evoking a sense of immediacy and presence"}

Cyrano, Le Bret. Then actors, actresses, Cuigy, Brissaille, Ligniere, the porter, the violinists. CYRANO (falling into Le Bret's arms): A rendezvous. . .from her!. . . LE BRET: You're sad no more! CYRANO: Ah! Let the world go burn! She knows I live! LE BRET: Now you'll be calm, I hope? CYRANO (beside himself for joy): Calm? I now calm? I'll be frenetic, frantic,--raving mad! Oh, for an army to attack!--a host! I've ten hearts in my breast; a score of arms; No dwarfs to cleave in twain!. . . (Wildly): No! Giants now! (For a few moments the shadows of the actors have been moving on the stage, whispers are heard--the rehearsal is beginning. The violinists are in their places.) A VOICE FROM THE STAGE: Hollo there! Silence! We rehearse! CYRANO (laughing): We go! (He moves away. By the big door enter Cuigy, Brissaille, and some officers, holding up Ligniere, who is drunk.) CUIGY: Cyrano! CYRANO: Well, what now? CUIGY: A lusty thrush They're bringing you! CYRANO (recognizing him): Ligniere!. . .What has chanced? CUIGY: He seeks you! BRISSAILLE: He dare not go home! CYRANO: Why not? LIGNIERE (in a husky voice, showing him a crumpled letter): This letter warns me. . .that a hundred men. . . Revenge that threatens me. . .that song, you know-- At the Porte de Nesle. To get to my own house I must pass there. . .I dare not!. . .Give me leave To sleep to-night beneath your roof! Allow. . . CYRANO: A hundred men? You'll sleep in your own bed! LIGNIERE (frightened): But-- CYRANO (in a terrible voice, showing him the lighted lantern held by the porter, who is listening curiously): Take the lantern. (Ligniere seizes it): Let us start! I swear That I will make your bed to-night myself! (To the officers): Follow; some stay behind, as witnesses! CUIGY: A hundred!. . . CYRANO: Less, to-night--would be too few! (The actors and actresses, in their costumes, have come down from the stage, and are listening.) LE BRET: But why embroil yourself? CYRANO: Le Bret who scolds! LE BRET: That worthless drunkard!-- CYRANO (slapping Ligniere on the shoulder): Wherefore? For this cause;-- This wine-barrel, this cask of Burgundy, Did, on a day, an action full of grace; As he was leaving church, he saw his love Take holy water--he, who is affeared At water's taste, ran quickly to the stoup, And drank it all, to the last drop!. . . AN ACTRESS: Indeed, that was a graceful thing! CYRANO: Ay, was it not? THE ACTRESS (to the others): But why a hundred men 'gainst one poor rhymer? CYRANO: March! (To the officers): Gentlemen, when you shall see me charge, Bear me no succor, none, whate'er the odds! ANOTHER ACTRESS (jumping from the stage): Oh! I shall come and see! CYRANO: Come, then! ANOTHER (jumping down--to an old actor): And you?. . . CYRANO: Come all--the Doctor, Isabel, Leander, Come, for you shall add, in a motley swarm, The farce Italian to this Spanish drama! ALL THE WOMEN (dancing for joy): Bravo!--a mantle, quick!--my hood! JODELET: Come on! CYRANO: Play us a march, gentlemen of the band! (The violinists join the procession, which is forming. They take the footlights, and divide them for torches): Brave officers! next, women in costume, And, twenty paces on-- (He takes his place): I all alone, Beneath the plume that Glory lends, herself, To deck my beaver--proud as Scipio!. . . --You hear me?--I forbid you succor me!-- One, two three! Porter, open wide the doors! (The porter opens the doors; a view of old Paris in the moonlight is seen): Ah!. . .Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous: The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs; A lovely frame for this wild battle-scene; Beneath the vapor's floating scarves, the Seine Trembles, mysterious, like a magic mirror, And, shortly, you shall see what you shall see! ALL: To the Porte de Nesle! CYRANO (standing on the threshold): Ay, to the Porte de Nesle! (Turning to the actress): Did you not ask, young lady, for what cause Against this rhymer fivescore men were sent? (He draws his sword; then, calmly): 'Twas that they knew him for a friend of mine! (He goes out. Ligniere staggers first after him, then the actresses on the officers' arms--the actors. The procession starts to the sound of the violins and in the faint light of the candles.) Curtain.

Act I, scene vii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section1/

Ligniere rushes in. He tells Cyrano about the hundred men waiting at the Porte de Nesle to kill him and announces that he is too afraid to go home. He asks if Cyrano can host him for the evening, but Cyrano scoffs: "A hundred men, you say. You'll sleep at home tonight. He declares that he will fight all hundred men and escort Ligniere safely home. Le Bret asks why Cyrano would want to help a drunkard, and Cyrano says that he once saw Ligniere drink a whole font of holy water dry after a beautiful woman had blessed herself with it. For a gesture like that, he says, he will -protect Ligniere. The actors and musicians rehearsing in the theater buzz about Cyrano's behavior. He tells them that he wants an audience and that they can follow him. But he warns them that he wants no protection. As he strides boldly out of the theater, the crowd forms a procession to follow him to the Porte de Nestle.

Act I, scenes iv-vii In these scenes, Cyrano appears almost superhuman in his grace, agility, and wit. He demonstrates his uncanny sense of humor and his willingness to laugh at himself and his nose. In standing up to Valvert, he shows off his unparalleled wit, as well as his courage and strength. His ability to compose a ballad while simultaneously displaying his talent for swordfighting is remarkable. His display of modesty and humility toward the theater patrons and the refreshment girl shows his gentlemanly nature. Cyrano's unsightly nose becomes only one of many characteristics that distinguish him from everyone else in the play. This first act establishes Cyrano as uniquely gifted and heroic. More than merely a central character, he is a living legend. Cyrano also shows his humble side in these scenes. He presents his heroism and eclectic skills to the public, and shows his emotional turmoil and self-doubt to his closest friends. He explains to Le Bret that he sometimes becomes depressed because of his nose and because he is not like the other lovers he sees. In some ways, his sense of alienation seems to prompt Cyrano to search for love even more ardently. But he is also unreasonably tough on himself, focusing only on his failures, imperfections, and weaknesses. Rostand subtitles Cyrano de Bergerac a "heroic comedy," a description that applies perfectly to the first act. Cyrano's brash, arrogant behavior is so astonishing that his ridiculously long nose, which might otherwise be the defining feature of his character, is humorous only for a moment. The nose becomes another extraordinary feature of this extraordinary character, and we are moved to laugh with Cyrano rather than at him. Rostand successfully diverts the tendency to fixate on Cyrano's odd appearance by emphasizing his extraordinary character instead. Cyrano's countless displays of wit, valor, and heroism--most notably his resolve to defend Ligniere from a hundred men--make him into an exaggerated stereotype of the swashbuckling, seventeenth-century poet-cavalier. There is an inherent parallel between the audience in the Hotel de Bourgogne and the audience watching Rostand's play. The reactions of the crowd enable us to sense the scope and magnitude of Cyrano's feats. They shout platitudes and celebratory adjectives that help put Cyrano's feats into perspective, evoking a sense of immediacy and presence

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/10.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_1_part_2.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene i

act ii, scene i

{"name": "Act II, scene i", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/", "summary": "The next morning dawns. The scene is Ragueneau's bakery. The bakery bustles with activity as Ragueneau and his pastry cooks prepare the day's wares. Obsessed with poetry, Ragueneau has written all of his recipes in the form of poems. One of the cooks delights him with a pastry lyre. Ragueneau's wife, Lise, enters furiously, angry with Ragueneau for yet again giving away baked goods to poets in return for their verses. She shows him a new batch of paper bags she has made for the shop, shocking her husband because the bags are made from poet's manuscripts", "analysis": ""}

Ragueneau, pastry-cooks, then Lise. Ragueneau is writing, with an inspired air, at a small table, and counting on his fingers. FIRST PASTRY-COOK (bringing in an elaborate fancy dish): Fruits in nougat! SECOND PASTRY-COOK (bringing another dish): Custard! THIRD PASTRY-COOK (bringing a roast, decorated with feathers): Peacock! FOURTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a batch of cakes on a slab): Rissoles! FIFTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a sort of pie-dish): Beef jelly! RAGUENEAU (ceasing to write, and raising his head): Aurora's silver rays begin to glint e'en now on the copper pans, and thou, O Ragueneau! must perforce stifle in thy breast the God of Song! Anon shall come the hour of the lute!--now 'tis the hour of the oven! (He rises. To a cook): You, make that sauce longer, 'tis too short! THE COOK: How much too short? RAGUENEAU: Three feet. (He passes on farther.) THE COOK: What means he? FIRST PASTRY-COOK (showing a dish to Ragueneau): The tart! SECOND PASTRY-COOK: The pie! RAGUENEAU (before the fire): My muse, retire, lest thy bright eyes be reddened by the fagot's blaze! (To a cook, showing him some loaves): You have put the cleft o' th' loaves in the wrong place; know you not that the coesura should be between the hemistiches? (To another, showing him an unfinished pasty): To this palace of paste you must add the roof. . . (To a young apprentice, who, seated on the ground, is spitting the fowls): And you, as you put on your lengthy spit the modest fowl and the superb turkey, my son, alternate them, as the old Malherbe loved well to alternate his long lines of verse with the short ones; thus shall your roasts, in strophes, turn before the flame! ANOTHER APPRENTICE (also coming up with a tray covered by a napkin): Master, I bethought me erewhile of your tastes, and made this, which will please you, I hope. (He uncovers the tray, and shows a large lyre made of pastry.) RAGUENEAU (enchanted): A lyre! THE APPRENTICE: 'Tis of brioche pastry. RAGUENEAU (touched): With conserved fruits. THE APPRENTICE: The strings, see, are of sugar. RAGUENEAU (giving him a coin): Go, drink my health! (Seeing Lise enter): Hush! My wife. Bustle, pass on, and hide that money! (To Lise, showing her the lyre, with a conscious look): Is it not beautiful? LISE: 'Tis passing silly! (She puts a pile of papers on the counter.) 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?

Act II, scene i

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/

The next morning dawns. The scene is Ragueneau's bakery. The bakery bustles with activity as Ragueneau and his pastry cooks prepare the day's wares. Obsessed with poetry, Ragueneau has written all of his recipes in the form of poems. One of the cooks delights him with a pastry lyre. Ragueneau's wife, Lise, enters furiously, angry with Ragueneau for yet again giving away baked goods to poets in return for their verses. She shows him a new batch of paper bags she has made for the shop, shocking her husband because the bags are made from poet's manuscripts

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/11.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_1_part_3.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene ii

act ii, scene ii

{"name": "Act II, scene ii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/", "summary": "Two children enter the shop and order three small pies. Ragueneau struggles to find a bag, and a poem, with which he can part. After Lise is out of sight, Ragueneau brings the children back and offers to give them more pastries if they will return the bags that have poetry written on them", "analysis": ""}

The same. Two children, who have just trotted into the shop. RAGUENEAU: What would you, little ones? 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.)

Act II, scene ii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/

Two children enter the shop and order three small pies. Ragueneau struggles to find a bag, and a poem, with which he can part. After Lise is out of sight, Ragueneau brings the children back and offers to give them more pastries if they will return the bags that have poetry written on them

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/12.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_1_part_4.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene iii

act ii, scene iii

{"name": "Act II, scene iii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/", "summary": "Cyrano appears and tells Ragueneau he is meeting someone. Noticeably nervous and jumpy, Cyrano constantly asks what time it is and cannot sit still. Lise asks Cyrano how he cut his hand, but he refuses to talk about it. A musketeer arrives and Ragueneau says the man is his wife's friend", "analysis": ""}

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.) 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!. . . RAGUENEAU (giving him the one from behind his ear): Here--a 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 wife--a terrible warrior--at 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): Ay--a 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.)

Act II, scene iii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/

Cyrano appears and tells Ragueneau he is meeting someone. Noticeably nervous and jumpy, Cyrano constantly asks what time it is and cannot sit still. Lise asks Cyrano how he cut his hand, but he refuses to talk about it. A musketeer arrives and Ragueneau says the man is his wife's friend

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/13.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_1_part_5.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene iv

act ii, scene iv

{"name": "Act II, scene iv", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/", "summary": "Some poets arrive and begin eating Ragueneau's wares, describing the food poetically and thereby delighting the baker. Cyrano tries to write something to Roxane. When Ragueneau leaves, Cyrano warns Lise that Ragueneau is his friend and that he will not tolerate her having an affair with the musketeer. The musketeer hears what he says but does not dare to challenge Cyrano", "analysis": ""}

Ragueneau, Lise, the musketeer. Cyrano at the little table writing. The poets, dressed in black, their stockings ungartered, and covered with mud. LISE (entering, to Ragueneau): Here they come, your mud-bespattered friends! FIRST POET (entering, to Ragueneau): Brother in art!. . . SECOND POET (to Ragueneau, shaking his hands): Dear brother! THIRD POET: High soaring eagle among pastry-cooks! (He sniffs): Marry! it smells good here in your eyrie! FOURTH POET: 'Tis at Phoebus' own rays that thy roasts turn! FIFTH POET: Apollo among master-cooks-- RAGUENEAU (whom they surround and embrace): Ah! how quick a man feels at his ease with them!. . . FIRST POET: We were stayed by the mob; they are crowded all round the Porte de Nesle!. . . SECOND POET: Eight bleeding brigand carcasses strew the pavements there--all slit open with sword-gashes! CYRANO (raising his head a minute): Eight?. . .hold, methought seven. (He goes on writing.) RAGUENEAU (to Cyrano): Know you who might be the hero of the fray? CYRANO (carelessly): Not I. LISE (to the musketeer): And you? Know you? THE MUSKETEER (twirling his mustache): Maybe! CYRANO (writing a little way off:--he is heard murmuring a word from time to time): 'I love thee!' FIRST POET: 'Twas one man, say they all, ay, swear to it, one man who, single-handed, put the whole band to the rout! SECOND POET: 'Twas a strange sight!--pikes and cudgels strewed thick upon the ground. CYRANO (writing): . . .'Thine eyes'. . . THIRD POET: And they were picking up hats all the way to the Quai d'Orfevres! FIRST POET: Sapristi! but he must have been a ferocious. . . CYRANO (same play): . . .'Thy lips'. . . FIRST POET: 'Twas a parlous fearsome giant that was the author of such exploits! CYRANO (same play): . . .'And when I see thee come, I faint for fear.' SECOND POET (filching a cake): What hast rhymed of late, Ragueneau? CYRANO (same play): . . .'Who worships thee'. . . (He stops, just as he is about to sign, and gets up, slipping the letter into his doublet): No need I sign, since I give it her myself. RAGUENEAU (to second poet): I have put a recipe into verse. THIRD POET (seating himself by a plate of cream-puffs): Go to! Let us hear these verses! FOURTH POET (looking at a cake which he has taken): Its cap is all a' one side! (He makes one bite of the top.) FIRST POET: See how this gingerbread woos the famished rhymer with its almond eyes, and its eyebrows of angelica! (He takes it.) SECOND POET: We listen. THIRD POET (squeezing a cream-puff gently): How it laughs! Till its very cream runs over! SECOND POET (biting a bit off the great lyre of pastry): This is the first time in my life that ever I drew any means of nourishing me from the lyre! RAGUENEAU (who has put himself ready for reciting, cleared his throat, settled his cap, struck an attitude): A recipe in verse!. . . 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 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 so--mark me, Dame Lise--I 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 cakes?. . . SECOND POET: Never! Let's take them with us! (They all follow Ragueneau in procession, after sweeping all the cakes off the trays.)

Act II, scene iv

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/

Some poets arrive and begin eating Ragueneau's wares, describing the food poetically and thereby delighting the baker. Cyrano tries to write something to Roxane. When Ragueneau leaves, Cyrano warns Lise that Ragueneau is his friend and that he will not tolerate her having an affair with the musketeer. The musketeer hears what he says but does not dare to challenge Cyrano

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/14.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_1_part_6.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene v

act ii, scene v

{"name": "Act II, scene v", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/", "summary": "Roxane arrives. Overcome with love, Cyrano sends everyone else away. He gives the duenna pastries to distract her while he and Roxane spend time together", "analysis": ""}

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.)

Act II, scene v

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/

Roxane arrives. Overcome with love, Cyrano sends everyone else away. He gives the duenna pastries to distract her while he and Roxane spend time together

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/15.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_1_part_7.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene vi

act ii, scene vi

{"name": "Act II, scene vi", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/", "summary": "Cyrano and Roxane begin to talk alone. Cyrano anxiously asks Roxane to state why she has come to talk to him. She shrugs off his insistence, and they reminisce about the childhood summers they spent together. She tends to his wounded hand, and Cyrano tells her he injured it in a fight the night before in which he defeated a hundred men. Roxane confesses to Cyrano that she is in love with someone, a man who does not know she loves him. Cyrano thinks she means him, but when she describes the man as \"handsome,\" he knows that she means someone else. She tells him that she is in love with Christian, the new member of Cyrano's company of guards. She says that she is afraid for Christian because Cyrano's company is composed of hot-blooded Gascons who pick fights with anyone foreign. Christian is not a Gascon. Roxane asks Cyrano to protect him, and Cyrano agrees. She also asks Cyrano to have Christian write to her. Professing friendly love and admiration for Cyrano, she leaves.", "analysis": "Act II, scenes i-vi In Cyrano de Bergerac, poetry either splits lovers apart or binds them together. Poetry divides Ragueneau and Lise, providing the main conflict in their marriage. Whereas Ragueneau is a caring, compassionate individual with a weakness for poets and poetry, Lise, his domineering wife, disparages poetry, pasting old pages of poems together to make bags for the shop. Her disgust becomes even more obvious when her affair with the musketeer becomes apparent. Ragueneau risks his business and his marriage by constantly giving out large amounts of pastries in return for poems. Meanwhile, the power of poetry will soon begin to bring other lovers together, and Ragueneau's poetic shop will play an important role in that process. In this scene, the sequence of letter-writing that continues through the rest of the play begins when Roxane and Cyrano meet in Ragueneau's shop. Cyrano once again exhibits his greatest strengths and weaknesses within the same scene. He stands up for Ragueneau's honor by threatening Lise and the musketeer. Cyrano will not allow them to deceive Ragueneau while they continue their dishonorable affair. Cyrano may not cherish Ragueneau's poems, but he respects his character and the goodwill he shows to him and to the other poets. Cyrano's fragility comes across in his nervousness during his meeting with Roxane. Cyrano is often courageous and fearless, but not when it comes to love. Despite his remarkable talents and abilities, he has the self-doubt and sense of vulnerability common to almost everyone. When Roxane arrives, it seems as though Cyrano's dream has come true. She begins to talk about a love interest of hers, and throughout her lengthy and somewhat stealthy description of the man, Cyrano appears to believe that she is talking about him. When she says that this man is \"handsome,\" Cyrano concludes that the man cannot be him, highlighting one of his most profound and destructive flaws--lack of self-esteem. Cyrano soon convinces himself that Roxane will never reciprocate his love. Sad and despondent, Cyrano resolves to help Christian win her heart. Cyrano's resolve, as well as his promise to protect Christian, demonstrates his essential heroic qualities. He combats rejection and dejection with selfless love--perhaps Cyrano's most impressive quality displayed thus far"}

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 favor--but 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! Then--aping 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 it--playing at the Porte de Nesle. 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: And tell me, while I wipe away the blood, How many 'gainst you? CYRANO: Oh! A hundred--near. ROXANE: Come, tell me! CYRANO: No, let be. But you, come tell The thing, just now, you dared not. . . ROXANE (keeping his hand): Now, I dare! The scent of those old days emboldens me! Yes, now I dare. Listen. I am in love. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: But with one who knows not. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: Not yet. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: But who, if he knows not, soon shall learn. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: A poor youth who all this time has loved Timidly, from afar, and dares not speak. . . CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: Leave your hand; why, it is fever-hot!-- But I have seen love trembling on his lips. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE (bandaging his hand with her handkerchief): And to think of it! that he by chance-- Yes, cousin, he is of your regiment! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE (laughing): --Is cadet in your own company! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: On his brow he bears the genius-stamp; He is proud, noble, young, intrepid, fair. . . CYRANO (rising suddenly, very pale): Fair! ROXANE: Why, what ails you? CYRANO: Nothing; 'tis. . . (He shows his hand, smiling): This scratch! ROXANE: I love him; all is said. But you must know I have only seen him at the Comedy. . . CYRANO: How? You have never spoken? ROXANE: Eyes can speak. CYRANO: How know you then that he. . .? ROXANE: Oh! people talk 'Neath the limes in the Place Royale. . . Gossip's chat Has let me know. . . CYRANO: He is cadet? ROXANE: In the Guards. CYRANO: His name? ROXANE: Baron Christian de Neuvillette. CYRANO: How now?. . .He is not of the Guards! ROXANE: To-day He is not join your ranks, under Captain Carbon de Castel-Jaloux. CYRANO: Ah, how quick, How quick the heart has flown!. . .But, my poor child. . . THE DUENNA (opening the door): The cakes are eaten, Monsieur Bergerac! CYRANO: Then read the verses printed on the bags! (She goes out): . . .My poor child, you who love but flowing words, Bright wit,--what if he be a lout unskilled? ROXANE: No, his bright locks, like D'Urfe's heroes. . . CYRANO: Ah! A well-curled pate, and witless tongue, perchance! ROXANE: Ah no! I guess--I feel--his words are fair! CYRANO: All words are fair that lurk 'neath fair mustache! --Suppose he were a fool!. . . ROXANE (stamping her foot): Then bury me! CYRANO (after a pause): Was it to tell me this you brought me here? I fail to see what use this serves, Madame. ROXANE: Nay, but I felt a terror, here, in the heart, On learning yesterday you were Gascons All of your company. . . CYRANO: And we provoke All beardless sprigs that favor dares admit 'Midst us pure Gascons--(pure! Heaven save the mark! They told you that as well? ROXANE: Ah! Think how I Trembled for him! CYRANO (between his teeth): Not causelessly! ROXANE: But when Last night I saw you,--brave, invincible,-- Punish that dandy, fearless hold your own Against those brutes, I thought--I thought, if he Whom all fear, all--if he would only. . . CYRANO: Good. I will befriend your little Baron. ROXANE: Ah! You'll promise me you will do this for me? I've always held you as a tender friend. CYRANO: Ay, ay. ROXANE: Then you will be his friend? CYRANO: I swear! ROXANE: And he shall fight no duels, promise! CYRANO: None. ROXANE: You are kind, cousin! Now I must be gone. (She puts on her mask and veil quickly; then, absently): You have not told me of your last night's fray. Ah, but it must have been a hero-fight!. . . --Bid him to write. (She sends him a kiss with her fingers): How good you are! CYRANO: Ay! Ay! ROXANE: A hundred men against you? Now, farewell.-- We are great friends? CYRANO: Ay, ay! ROXANE: Oh, bid him write! You'll tell me all one day--A hundred men!-- Ah, brave!. . .How brave! CYRANO (bowing to her): I have fought better since. (She goes out. Cyrano stands motionless, with eyes on the ground. A silence. The door (right) opens. Ragueneau looks in.)

Act II, scene vi

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section2/

Cyrano and Roxane begin to talk alone. Cyrano anxiously asks Roxane to state why she has come to talk to him. She shrugs off his insistence, and they reminisce about the childhood summers they spent together. She tends to his wounded hand, and Cyrano tells her he injured it in a fight the night before in which he defeated a hundred men. Roxane confesses to Cyrano that she is in love with someone, a man who does not know she loves him. Cyrano thinks she means him, but when she describes the man as "handsome," he knows that she means someone else. She tells him that she is in love with Christian, the new member of Cyrano's company of guards. She says that she is afraid for Christian because Cyrano's company is composed of hot-blooded Gascons who pick fights with anyone foreign. Christian is not a Gascon. Roxane asks Cyrano to protect him, and Cyrano agrees. She also asks Cyrano to have Christian write to her. Professing friendly love and admiration for Cyrano, she leaves.

Act II, scenes i-vi In Cyrano de Bergerac, poetry either splits lovers apart or binds them together. Poetry divides Ragueneau and Lise, providing the main conflict in their marriage. Whereas Ragueneau is a caring, compassionate individual with a weakness for poets and poetry, Lise, his domineering wife, disparages poetry, pasting old pages of poems together to make bags for the shop. Her disgust becomes even more obvious when her affair with the musketeer becomes apparent. Ragueneau risks his business and his marriage by constantly giving out large amounts of pastries in return for poems. Meanwhile, the power of poetry will soon begin to bring other lovers together, and Ragueneau's poetic shop will play an important role in that process. In this scene, the sequence of letter-writing that continues through the rest of the play begins when Roxane and Cyrano meet in Ragueneau's shop. Cyrano once again exhibits his greatest strengths and weaknesses within the same scene. He stands up for Ragueneau's honor by threatening Lise and the musketeer. Cyrano will not allow them to deceive Ragueneau while they continue their dishonorable affair. Cyrano may not cherish Ragueneau's poems, but he respects his character and the goodwill he shows to him and to the other poets. Cyrano's fragility comes across in his nervousness during his meeting with Roxane. Cyrano is often courageous and fearless, but not when it comes to love. Despite his remarkable talents and abilities, he has the self-doubt and sense of vulnerability common to almost everyone. When Roxane arrives, it seems as though Cyrano's dream has come true. She begins to talk about a love interest of hers, and throughout her lengthy and somewhat stealthy description of the man, Cyrano appears to believe that she is talking about him. When she says that this man is "handsome," Cyrano concludes that the man cannot be him, highlighting one of his most profound and destructive flaws--lack of self-esteem. Cyrano soon convinces himself that Roxane will never reciprocate his love. Sad and despondent, Cyrano resolves to help Christian win her heart. Cyrano's resolve, as well as his promise to protect Christian, demonstrates his essential heroic qualities. He combats rejection and dejection with selfless love--perhaps Cyrano's most impressive quality displayed thus far

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/16.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_2_part_1.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene vii

act ii, scene vii

{"name": "act ii, scene vii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/", "summary": "Cyrano's company of guards tumbles into the shop, ecstatic over Cyrano's triumphs the night before. The whole city is in a tumult over the sensation he created. Carbon, the captain of the guards, tries to lead Cyrano out into the adoring throng, but Cyrano refuses to go. People begin rushing into the store, doting on Cyrano. Prominent men ask for the details of the night before; Cyrano's friends see an opportunity for him to help his career, but he refuses to provide any details. De Guiche enters with a message of admiration, and Cyrano presents to him the song of the Cadets of Gascoyne. De Guiche suggests that his uncle, Cardinal Richelieu, the most powerful man in France, might be willing to help Cyrano. But again Cyrano refuses. During the hubbub, a cadet appears with a set of hats belonging to the men Cyrano defeated the previous night. De Guiche reveals that he hired the hundred men, and he angrily storms out of the store. The crowd dissipates, and only the guards remain", "analysis": ""}

Cyrano, Ragueneau, poets, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, the cadets, a crowd, then De Guiche. RAGUENEAU: Can we come in? CYRANO (without stirring): Yes. . . (Ragueneau signs to his friends, and they come in. At the same time, by door at back, enters Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, in Captain's uniform. He makes gestures of surprise on seeing Cyrano.) CARBON: Here he is! CYRANO (raising his head): Captain!. . . CARBON (delightedly): Our hero! We heard all! Thirty or more Of my cadets are there!. . . CYRANO (shrinking back): But. . . CARBON (trying to draw him away): Come with me! They will not rest until they see you! CYRANO: No! CARBON: They're drinking opposite, at The Bear's Head. CYRANO: I. . . CARBON (going to the door and calling across the street in a voice of thunder): He won't come! The hero's in the sulks! A VOICE (outside): Ah! Sandious! (Tumult outside. Noise of boots and swords is heard approaching.) CARBON (rubbing his hands): They are running 'cross the street! CADETS (entering): Mille dious! Capdedious! Pocapdedious! RAGUENEAU (drawing back startled): Gentlemen, are you all from Gascony? THE CADETS: All! A CADET (to Cyrano): Bravo! CYRANO: Baron! ANOTHER (shaking his hands): Vivat! CYRANO: Baron! THIRD CADET: Come! I must embrace you! CYRANO: Baron! SEVERAL GASCONS: We'll embrace Him, all in turn! CYRANO (not knowing whom to reply to): Baron!. . .Baron!. . .I beg. . . RAGUENEAU: Are you all Barons, Sirs? THE CADETS: Ay, every one! RAGUENEAU: Is it true?. . . FIRST CADET: Ay--why, you could build a tower With nothing but our coronets, my friend! LE BRET (entering, and running up to Cyrano): They're looking for you! Here's a crazy mob Led by the men who followed you last night. . . CYRANO (alarmed): What! Have you told them where to find me? LE BRET (rubbing his hands): Yes! A BURGHER (entering, followed by a group of men): Sir, all the Marais is a-coming here! (Outside the street has filled with people. Chaises a porteurs and carriages have drawn up.) LE BRET (in a low voice, smiling, to Cyrano): And Roxane? CYRANO (quickly): Hush! THE CROWD (calling outside): Cyrano!. . . (A crowd rush into the shop, pushing one another. Acclamations.) RAGUENEAU (standing on a table): Lo! my shop Invaded! They break all! Magnificent! PEOPLE (crowding round Cyrano): My friend!. . .my friend. . . Cyrano: Meseems that yesterday I had not all these friends! LE BRET (delighted): Success! A YOUNG MARQUIS (hurrying up with his hands held out): My friend, Didst thou but know. . . CYRANO: Thou!. . .Marry!. . .thou!. . .Pray when Did we herd swine together, you and I! ANOTHER: I would present you, Sir, to some fair dames Who in my carriage yonder. . . CYRANO (coldly): Ah! and who Will first present you, Sir, to me? LE BRET (astonished): What's wrong? CYRANO: Hush! A MAN OF LETTERS (with writing-board): A few details?. . . CYRANO: No. LE BRET (nudging his elbow): 'Tis Theophrast, Renaudet,. . .of the 'Court Gazette'! CYRANO: Who cares? LE BRET: This paper--but it is of great importance!. . . They say it will be an immense success! A POET (advancing): Sir. . . CYRANO: What, another! THE POET: . . .Pray permit I make A pentacrostic on your name. . . SOME ONE (also advancing): Pray, Sir. . . CYRANO: Enough! Enough! (A movement in the crowd. De Guiche appears, escorted by officers. Cuigy, Brissaille, the officers who went with Cyrano the night before. Cuigy comes rapidly up to Cyrano.) CUIGY (to Cyrano): Here is Monsieur de Guiche? (A murmur--every one makes way): He comes from the Marshal of Gassion! DE GUICHE (bowing to Cyrano): . . .Who would express his admiration, Sir, For your new exploit noised so loud abroad. THE CROWD: Bravo! CYRANO (bowing): The Marshal is a judge of valor. DE GUICHE: He could not have believed the thing, unless These gentlemen had sworn they witnessed it. CUIGY: With our own eyes! LE BRET (aside to Cyrano, who has an absent air): But. . .you. . . CYRANO: Hush! LE BRET: But. . .You suffer? CYRANO (starting): Before this rabble?--I?. . . (He draws himself up, twirls his mustache, and throws back his shoulders): Wait!. . .You shall see! DE GUICHE (to whom Cuigy has spoken in a low voice): In feats of arms, already your career Abounded.--You serve with those crazy pates Of Gascons? CYRANO: Ay, with the Cadets. A CADET (in a terrible voice): With us! DE GUICHE (looking at the cadets, ranged behind Cyrano): Ah!. . .All these gentlemen of haughty mien, Are they the famous?. . . CARBON: Cyrano! CYRANO: Ay, Captain! CARBON: Since all my company's assembled here, Pray favor me,--present them to my lord! CYRANO (making two steps toward De Guiche): My Lord de Guiche, permit that I present-- (pointing to the cadets): The bold Cadets of Gascony, Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux! Brawling and swaggering boastfully, The bold Cadets of Gascony! Spouting of Armory, Heraldry, Their veins a-brimming with blood so blue, The bold Cadets of Gascony, Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux: Eagle-eye, and spindle-shanks, Fierce mustache, and wolfish tooth! Slash-the-rabble and scatter-their-ranks; Eagle-eye and spindle-shanks, With a flaming feather that gayly pranks, Hiding the holes in their hats, forsooth! Eagle-eye and spindle-shanks, Fierce mustache, and wolfish tooth! 'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk' Are their gentlest sobriquets; With Fame and Glory their soul is drunk! 'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk,' In brawl and skirmish they show their spunk, Give rendezvous in broil and fray; 'Pink-your-Doublet' and 'Slit-your-Trunk' Are their gentlest sobriquets! What, ho! Cadets of Gascony! All jealous lovers are sport for you! O Woman! dear divinity! What, ho! Cadets of Gascony! Whom scowling husbands quake to see. Blow, 'taratara,' and cry 'Cuckoo.' What, ho! Cadets of Gascony! Husbands and lovers are game for you! DE GUICHE (seated with haughty carelessness in an armchair brought quickly by Ragueneau): A poet! 'Tis the fashion of the hour! --Will you be mine? CYRANO: No, Sir,--no man's! DE GUICHE: Last night Your fancy pleased my uncle Richelieu. I'll gladly say a word to him for you. LE BRET (overjoyed): Great Heavens! DE GUICHE: I imagine you have rhymed Five acts, or so? LE BRET (in Cyrano's ear): Your play!--your 'Agrippine!' You'll see it staged at last! DE GUICHE: Take them to him. CYRANO (beginning to be tempted and attracted): In sooth,--I would. . . DE GUICHE: He is a critic skilled: He may correct a line or two, at most. CYRANO (whose face stiffens at once): Impossible! My blood congeals to think That other hand should change a comma's dot. DE GUICHE: But when a verse approves itself to him He pays it dear, good friend. CYRANO: He pays less dear Than I myself; when a verse pleases me I pay myself, and sing it to myself! DE GUICHE: You are proud. CYRANO: Really? You have noticed that? A CADET (entering, with a string of old battered plumed beaver hats, full of holes, slung on his sword): See, Cyrano,--this morning, on the quay What strange bright-feathered game we caught! The hats O' the fugitives. . . CARBON: 'Spolia opima!' ALL (laughing): Ah! ah! ah! CUIGY: He who laid that ambush, 'faith! Must curse and swear! BRISSAILLE: Who was it? DE GUICHE: I myself. (The laughter stops): I charged them--work too dirty for my sword, To punish and chastise a rhymster sot. (Constrained silence.) The CADET (in a low voice, to Cyrano, showing him the beavers): What do with them? They're full of grease!--a stew? CYRANO (taking the sword and, with a salute, dropping the hats at De Guiche's feet): Sir, pray be good enough to render them Back to your friends. DE GUICHE (rising, sharply): My chair there--quick!--I go! (To Cyrano passionately): As to you, sirrah!. . . VOICE (in the street): Porters for my lord De Guiche! DE GUICHE (who has controlled himself--smiling): Have you read 'Don Quixote'? CYRANO: I have! And doff my hat at th' mad knight-errant's name. DE GUICHE: I counsel you to study. . . A PORTER (appearing at back): My lord's chair! DE GUICHE: . . .The windmill chapter! CYRANO (bowing): Chapter the Thirteenth. DE GUICHE: For when one tilts 'gainst windmills--it may chance. . . CYRANO: Tilt I 'gainst those who change with every breeze? DE GUICHE: . . .That windmill sails may sweep you with their arm Down--in the mire!. . . CYRANO: Or upward--to the stars! (De Guiche goes out, and mounts into his chair. The other lords go away whispering together. Le Bret goes to the door with them. The crowd disperses.)

act ii, scene vii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/

Cyrano's company of guards tumbles into the shop, ecstatic over Cyrano's triumphs the night before. The whole city is in a tumult over the sensation he created. Carbon, the captain of the guards, tries to lead Cyrano out into the adoring throng, but Cyrano refuses to go. People begin rushing into the store, doting on Cyrano. Prominent men ask for the details of the night before; Cyrano's friends see an opportunity for him to help his career, but he refuses to provide any details. De Guiche enters with a message of admiration, and Cyrano presents to him the song of the Cadets of Gascoyne. De Guiche suggests that his uncle, Cardinal Richelieu, the most powerful man in France, might be willing to help Cyrano. But again Cyrano refuses. During the hubbub, a cadet appears with a set of hats belonging to the men Cyrano defeated the previous night. De Guiche reveals that he hired the hundred men, and he angrily storms out of the store. The crowd dissipates, and only the guards remain

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/17.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_2_part_2.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene viii

act ii, scene viii

{"name": "Act II, scene viii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/", "summary": "Le Bret argues that Cyrano is ruining his chances of becoming a successful man or a famous poet. Cyrano says he will live according to his ideals and that he has no interest in making friends with unworthy men. Suddenly, Christian enters", "analysis": ""}

Cyrano, Le Bret, the cadets, who are eating and drinking at the tables right and left. CYRANO (bowing mockingly to those who go out without daring to salute him): Gentlemen. . .Gentlemen. . . LE BRET (coming back, despairingly): Here's a fine coil! CYRANO: Oh! scold away! LE BRET: At least, you will agree That to annihilate each chance of Fate Exaggerates. . . CYRANO: Yes!--I exaggerate! LE BRET (triumphantly): Ah! CYRANO: But for principle--example too,-- I think 'tis well thus to exaggerate. LE BRET: Oh! lay aside that pride of musketeer, Fortune and glory wait you!. . . CYRANO: Ay, and then?. . . Seek a protector, choose a patron out, And like the crawling ivy round a tree That licks the bark to gain the trunk's support, Climb high by creeping ruse instead of force? No, grammercy! What! I, like all the rest Dedicate verse to bankers?--play buffoon In cringing hope to see, at last, a smile Not disapproving, on a patron's lips? Grammercy, no! What! learn to swallow toads? --With frame aweary climbing stairs?--a skin Grown grimed and horny,--here, about the knees? And, acrobat-like, teach my back to bend?-- No, grammercy! Or,--double-faced and sly-- Run with the hare, while hunting with the hounds; And, oily-tongued, to win the oil of praise, Flatter the great man to his very nose? No, grammercy! Steal soft from lap to lap, --A little great man in a circle small, Or navigate, with madrigals for sails, Blown gently windward by old ladies' sighs? No, grammercy! Bribe kindly editors To spread abroad my verses? Grammercy! Or try to be elected as the pope Of tavern-councils held by imbeciles? No, grammercy! Toil to gain reputation By one small sonnet, 'stead of making many? No, grammercy! Or flatter sorry bunglers? Be terrorized by every prating paper? Say ceaselessly, 'Oh, had I but the chance Of a fair notice in the "Mercury"!' Grammercy, no! Grow pale, fear, calculate? Prefer to make a visit to a rhyme? Seek introductions, draw petitions up? No, grammercy! and no! and no again! But--sing? Dream, laugh, go lightly, solitary, free, With eyes that look straight forward--fearless voice! To cock your beaver just the way you choose,-- For 'yes' or 'no' show fight, or turn a rhyme! --To work without one thought of gain or fame, To realize that journey to the moon! Never to pen a line that has not sprung Straight from the heart within. Embracing then Modesty, say to oneself, 'Good my friend, Be thou content with flowers,--fruit,--nay, leaves, But pluck them from no garden but thine own!' And then, if glory come by chance your way, To pay no tribute unto Caesar, none, But keep the merit all your own! In short, Disdaining tendrils of the parasite, To be content, if neither oak nor elm-- Not to mount high, perchance, but mount alone! LE BRET: Alone, an if you will! But not with hand 'Gainst every man! How in the devil's name Have you conceived this lunatic idea, To make foes for yourself at every turn? CYRANO: By dint of seeing you at every turn Make friends,--and fawn upon your frequent friends With mouth wide smiling, slit from ear to ear! I pass, still unsaluted, joyfully, And cry,--What, ho! another enemy? LE BRET: Lunacy! CYRANO: Well, what if it be my vice, My pleasure to displease--to love men hate me! Ah, friend of mine, believe me, I march better 'Neath the cross-fire of glances inimical! How droll the stains one sees on fine-laced doublets, From gall of envy, or the poltroon's drivel! --The enervating friendship which enfolds you Is like an open-laced Italian collar, Floating around your neck in woman's fashion; One is at ease thus,--but less proud the carriage! The forehead, free from mainstay or coercion, Bends here, there, everywhere. But I, embracing Hatred, she lends,--forbidding, stiffly fluted, The ruff's starched folds that hold the head so rigid; Each enemy--another fold--a gopher, Who adds constraint, and adds a ray of glory; For Hatred, like the ruff worn by the Spanish, Grips like a vice, but frames you like a halo! LE BRET (after a silence, taking his arm): Speak proud aloud, and bitter!--In my ear Whisper me simply this,--She loves thee not! CYRANO (vehemently): Hush! (Christian has just entered, and mingled with the cadets, who do not speak to him; he has seated himself at a table, where Lise serves him.)

Act II, scene viii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/

Le Bret argues that Cyrano is ruining his chances of becoming a successful man or a famous poet. Cyrano says he will live according to his ideals and that he has no interest in making friends with unworthy men. Suddenly, Christian enters

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/18.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_2_part_3.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene ix

act ii, scene ix

{"name": "Act II, scene ix", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/", "summary": "The other guardsmen, not privy to Cyrano's vow to Roxane, tease Christian and warn him never to mention Cyrano's nose. Christian, upset that he is being teased, asks Carbon what to do when Gascons grow too boastful. Carbon replies that he must prove a man can be a Norman and still have courage. So when Cyrano begins to tell the story of his fight with the hundred men, Christian repeatedly interrupts him with references to his nose. Cyrano fills with anger, and the cadets expect him to attack Christian. Remembering his promise to protect Christian, however, Cyrano controls himself. Christian's insults continue until at last Cyrano angrily sends away the cadets. Expecting him to kill Christian, they hasten from the room", "analysis": ""}

Cyrano, Le Bret, the cadets, Christian de Neuvillette. A CADET (seated at a table, glass in hand): Cyrano! (Cyrano turns round): The story! CYRANO: In its time! (He goes up on Le Bret's arm. They talk in low voices.) THE CADET (rising and coming down): The story of the fray! 'Twill lesson well (He stops before the table where Christian is seated): This timid young apprentice! CHRISTIAN (raising his head): 'Prentice! Who? ANOTHER CADET: This sickly Northern greenhorn! CHRISTIAN: Sickly! FIRST CADET (mockingly): Hark! Monsieur de Neuvillette, this in your ear: There's somewhat here, one no more dares to name, Than to say 'rope' to one whose sire was hanged! CHRISTIAN: What may that be? ANOTHER CADET (in a terrible voice): See here! (He puts his finger three times, mysteriously, on his nose): Do you understand? CHRISTIAN: Oh! 'tis the. . . ANOTHER: Hush! oh, never breathe that word, Unless you'd reckon with him yonder! (He points to Cyrano, who is talking with Le Bret.) ANOTHER (who has meanwhile come up noiselessly to sit on the table--whispering behind him): Hark! He put two snuffling men to death, in rage, For the sole reason they spoke through their nose! ANOTHER (in a hollow voice, darting on all-fours from under the table, where he had crept): And if you would not perish in flower o' youth, --Oh, mention not the fatal cartilage! ANOTHER (clapping him on the shoulder): A word? A gesture! For the indiscreet His handkerchief may prove his winding-sheet! (Silence. All, with crossed arms, look at Christian. He rises and goes over to Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, who is talking to an officer, and feigns to see nothing.) CHRISTIAN: Captain! CARBON (turning and looking at him from head to foot): Sir! CHRISTIAN: Pray, what skills it best to do To Southerners who swagger?. . . CARBON: Give them proof That one may be a Northerner, yet brave! (He turns his back on him.) CHRISTIAN: I thank you. FIRST CADET (to Cyrano): Now the tale! ALL: The tale! CYRANO (coming toward them): The tale?. . . (All bring their stools up, and group round him, listening eagerly. Christian is astride a chair): Well! I went all alone to meet the band. The moon was shining, clock-like, full i' th' sky, When, suddenly, some careful clockwright passed A cloud of cotton-wool across the case That held this silver watch. And, presto! heigh! The night was inky black, and all the quays Were hidden in the murky dark. Gadsooks! One could see nothing further. . . CHRISTIAN: Than one's nose! (Silence. All slowly rise, looking in terror at Cyrano, who has stopped-- dumfounded. Pause.) CYRANO: Who on God's earth is that? A CADET (whispering): It is a man Who joined to-day. CYRANO (making a step toward Christian): To-day? CARBON (in a low voice): Yes. . .his name is The Baron de Neuvil. . . CYRANO (checking himself): Good! It is well. . . (He turns pale, flushes, makes as if to fall on Christian): I. . . (He controls himself): What said I?. . . (With a burst of rage): MORDIOUS!. . . (Then continues calmly): That it was dark. (Astonishment. The cadets reseat themselves, staring at him): On I went, thinking, 'For a knavish cause I may provoke some great man, some great prince, Who certainly could break'. . . CHRISTIAN: My nose!. . . (Every one starts up. Christian balances on his chair.) CYRANO (in a choked voice): . . .'My teeth! Who would break my teeth, and I, imprudent-like, Was poking. . .' CHRISTIAN: My nose!. . . CYRANO: 'My finger,. . .in the crack Between the tree and bark! He may prove strong And rap me. . .' CHRISTIAN: Over the nose. . . CYRANO (wiping his forehead): . . .'O' th' knuckles! Ay,' But I cried, 'Forward, Gascon! Duty calls! On, Cyrano!' And thus I ventured on. . . When, from the shadow, came. . . CHRISTIAN: A crack o' th' nose. CYRANO: I parry it--find myself. . . CHRISTIAN: Nose to nose. . . CYRANO (bounding on to him): Heaven and earth! (All the Gascons leap up to see, but when he is close to Christian he controls himself and continues): . . .With a hundred brawling sots, Who stank. . . CHRISTIAN: A noseful. . . CYRANO (white, but smiling): Onions, brandy-cups! I leapt out, head well down. . . CHRISTIAN: Nosing the wind! CYRANO: I charge!--gore two, impale one--run him through, One aims at me--Paf! and I parry. . . CHRISTIAN: Pif! CYRANO (bursting out): Great God! Out! all of you! (The cadets rush to the doors.) FIRST CADET: The tiger wakes! CYRANO: Every man, out! Leave me alone with him! SECOND CADET: We shall find him minced fine, minced into hash In a big pasty! RAGUENEAU: I am turning pale, And curl up, like a napkin, limp and white! CARBON: Let us be gone. ANOTHER: He will not leave a crumb! ANOTHER: I die of fright to think what will pass here! ANOTHER (shutting door right): Something too horrible! (All have gone out by different doors, some by the staircase. Cyrano and Christian are face to face, looking at each other for a moment.)

Act II, scene ix

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/

The other guardsmen, not privy to Cyrano's vow to Roxane, tease Christian and warn him never to mention Cyrano's nose. Christian, upset that he is being teased, asks Carbon what to do when Gascons grow too boastful. Carbon replies that he must prove a man can be a Norman and still have courage. So when Cyrano begins to tell the story of his fight with the hundred men, Christian repeatedly interrupts him with references to his nose. Cyrano fills with anger, and the cadets expect him to attack Christian. Remembering his promise to protect Christian, however, Cyrano controls himself. Christian's insults continue until at last Cyrano angrily sends away the cadets. Expecting him to kill Christian, they hasten from the room

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/19.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_2_part_4.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene x

act ii, scene x

{"name": "Act II, scene x", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/", "summary": "Rather than killing Christian, Cyrano embraces him and reveals that he is Roxane's cousin. Christian proclaims that he simply cannot write to Roxane because he is too stupid--he thinks she will lose all feeling for him the moment she reads his words. Struck by a powerful idea, Cyrano offers to write letters for Christian--though he says he is only interested in practicing his comic poetry, inwardly, he burns for the opportunity to express his feelings to Roxane. Christian agrees, and they embrace again", "analysis": ""}

Cyrano, Christian. CYRANO: Embrace me now! CHRISTIAN: Sir. . . CYRANO: You are brave. CHRISTIAN: Oh! but. . . CYRANO: Nay, I insist. CHRISTIAN: Pray tell me. . . CYRANO: Come, embrace! I am her brother. CHRISTIAN: Whose brother? CYRANO: Hers i' faith! Roxane's! CHRISTIAN (rushing up to him): O heavens! Her brother. . .? CYRANO: Cousin--brother!. . .the same thing! CHRISTIAN: And she has told you. . .? CYRANO: All! CHRISTIAN: She loves me? say! CYRANO: Maybe! CHRISTIAN (taking his hands): How glad I am to meet you, Sir! CYRANO: That may be called a sudden sentiment! CHRISTIAN: I ask your pardon. . . CYRANO (looking at him, with his hand on his shoulder): True, he's fair, the villain! CHRISTIAN: Ah, Sir! If you but knew my admiration!. . . CYRANO: But all those noses?. . . CHRISTIAN: Oh! I take them back! CYRANO: Roxane expects a letter. CHRISTIAN: Woe the day! CYRANO: How? CHRISTIAN: I am lost if I but ope my lips! CYRANO: Why so? CHRISTIAN: I am a fool--could die for shame! CYRANO: None is a fool who knows himself a fool. And you did not attack me like a fool. CHRISTIAN: Bah! One finds battle-cry to lead th' assault! I have a certain military wit, But, before women, can but hold my tongue. Their eyes! True, when I pass, their eyes are kind. . . CYRANO: And, when you stay, their hearts, methinks, are kinder? CHRISTIAN: No! for I am one of those men--tongue-tied, I know it--who can never tell their love. CYRANO: And I, meseems, had Nature been more kind, More careful, when she fashioned me,--had been One of those men who well could speak their love! CHRISTIAN: Oh, to express one's thoughts with facile grace!. . . CYRANO: . . .To be a musketeer, with handsome face! CHRISTIAN: Roxane is precieuse. I'm sure to prove A disappointment to her! CYRANO (looking at him): Had I but Such an interpreter to speak my soul! CHRISTIAN (with despair): Eloquence! Where to find it? CYRANO (abruptly): That I lend, If you lend me your handsome victor-charms; Blended, we make a hero of romance! CHRISTIAN: How so? CYRANO: Think you you can repeat what things I daily teach your tongue? CHRISTIAN: What do you mean? CYRANO: Roxane shall never have a disillusion! Say, wilt thou that we woo her, double-handed? Wilt thou that we two woo her, both together? Feel'st thou, passing from my leather doublet, Through thy laced doublet, all my soul inspiring? CHRISTIAN: But, Cyrano!. . . CYRANO: Will you, I say? CHRISTIAN: I fear! CYRANO: Since, by yourself, you fear to chill her heart, Will you--to kindle all her heart to flame-- Wed into one my phrases and your lips? CHRISTIAN: Your eyes flash! CYRANO: Will you? CHRISTIAN: Will it please you so? --Give you such pleasure? CYRANO (madly): It!. . . (Then calmly, business-like): It would amuse me! It is an enterprise to tempt a poet. Will you complete me, and let me complete you? You march victorious,--I go in your shadow; Let me be wit for you, be you my beauty! CHRISTIAN: The letter, that she waits for even now! I never can. . . CYRANO (taking out the letter he had written): See! Here it is--your letter! CHRISTIAN: What? CYRANO: Take it! Look, it wants but the address. CHRISTIAN: But I. . . CYRANO: Fear nothing. Send it. It will suit. CHRISTIAN: But have you. . .? CYRANO: Oh! We have our pockets full, We poets, of love-letters, writ to Chloes, Daphnes--creations of our noddle-heads. Our lady-loves,--phantasms of our brains, --Dream-fancies blown into soap-bubbles! Come! Take it, and change feigned love-words into true; I breathed my sighs and moans haphazard-wise; Call all these wandering love-birds home to nest. You'll see that I was in these lettered lines, --Eloquent all the more, the less sincere! --Take it, and make an end! CHRISTIAN: Were it not well To change some words? Written haphazard-wise, Will it fit Roxane? CYRANO: 'Twill fit like a glove! CHRISTIAN: But. . . CYRANO: Ah, credulity of love! Roxane Will think each word inspired by herself! CHRISTIAN: My friend! (He throws himself into Cyrano's arms. They remain thus.)

Act II, scene x

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/

Rather than killing Christian, Cyrano embraces him and reveals that he is Roxane's cousin. Christian proclaims that he simply cannot write to Roxane because he is too stupid--he thinks she will lose all feeling for him the moment she reads his words. Struck by a powerful idea, Cyrano offers to write letters for Christian--though he says he is only interested in practicing his comic poetry, inwardly, he burns for the opportunity to express his feelings to Roxane. Christian agrees, and they embrace again

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/20.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_2_part_5.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act ii.scene xi

act ii, scene xi

{"name": "Act II, scene xi", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/", "summary": "The cadets return to the room, stunned to see that not only is Christian still alive, but that he is embracing Cyrano. Lise's musketeer decides to follow Christian's lead and insults Cyrano's nose. Cyrano knocks him over a bench. The cadets, pleased to have their old Cyrano back, rejoice.", "analysis": "Act II, scenes vii-xi The structure of Act II is important for several reasons. It introduces the plot's main event: Cyrano's plan to woo Roxane for Christian by writing the letters himself. It shows Cyrano at the peak of his sensational popularity following his triumph at the theater and in the duel against a hundred men. It also shows how his pride and virtue compel him to shun his popularity. Rostand expresses in words the code of behavior to which Cyrano swears. Cyrano's refusal of Richelieu's patronage is significant. Rather than pander to money and power by taking a great offer to become financially and politically backed by the most powerful man in France, Cyrano prefers to live by the ideals and values that he holds dear. Moreover, Cyrano's argument with Le Bret over Cyrano's rash behavior shows his allegiance to integrity, impetuousness, bravery, wit, the pursuit of glory, and the idealization of love and women--all in the face of great enmity. These connote the most important, recurring themes of the play. Another important theme of Cyrano de Bergerac is the traditional contrast between inner worth and outward appearance, embodied mainly in the opposing characters of Cyrano and Christian. Christian and Cyrano are opposites in several ways. One is ugly, the other handsome. One is smart and artistic, the other simple. One is confident, the other noticeably shy but effectively charming. Cyrano, despite his awkward physical appearance, is the \"most delightful man under the sun,\" a consistently brilliant and soulful man. Christian is beautiful to look at, but he lacks wit, poetry, and fire. By working together to woo Roxane, they form a more powerful single character, a \"romantic hero. This romantic hero has the best of both worlds: Cyrano's inner beauty and Christian's outer beauty. Though together they form a romantic hero, Cyrano and Christian also risk becoming perceived as part fraud and part coward"}

Cyrano, Christian, the Gascons, the musketeer, Lise. A CADET (half opening the door): Naught here!. . .The silence of the grave! I dare not look. . . (He puts his head in): Why?. . . ALL THE CADETS (entering, and seeing Cyrano and Christian embracing): Oh!. . . A CADET: This passes all! (Consternation.) THE MUSKETEER (mockingly): Ho, ho!. . . CARBON: Our demon has become a saint? Struck on one nostril--lo! he turns the other! MUSKETEER: Then we may speak about his nose, henceforth!. . . (Calling to Lise, boastfully): --Ah, Lise, see here! (Sniffing ostentatiously): O heavens!. . .what a stink!. . . (Going up to Cyrano): You, sir, without a doubt have sniffed it up! --What is the smell I notice here? CYRANO (cuffing his head): Clove-heads. (General delight. The cadets have found the old Cyrano again! They turn somersaults.) Curtain.

Act II, scene xi

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section3/

The cadets return to the room, stunned to see that not only is Christian still alive, but that he is embracing Cyrano. Lise's musketeer decides to follow Christian's lead and insults Cyrano's nose. Cyrano knocks him over a bench. The cadets, pleased to have their old Cyrano back, rejoice.

Act II, scenes vii-xi The structure of Act II is important for several reasons. It introduces the plot's main event: Cyrano's plan to woo Roxane for Christian by writing the letters himself. It shows Cyrano at the peak of his sensational popularity following his triumph at the theater and in the duel against a hundred men. It also shows how his pride and virtue compel him to shun his popularity. Rostand expresses in words the code of behavior to which Cyrano swears. Cyrano's refusal of Richelieu's patronage is significant. Rather than pander to money and power by taking a great offer to become financially and politically backed by the most powerful man in France, Cyrano prefers to live by the ideals and values that he holds dear. Moreover, Cyrano's argument with Le Bret over Cyrano's rash behavior shows his allegiance to integrity, impetuousness, bravery, wit, the pursuit of glory, and the idealization of love and women--all in the face of great enmity. These connote the most important, recurring themes of the play. Another important theme of Cyrano de Bergerac is the traditional contrast between inner worth and outward appearance, embodied mainly in the opposing characters of Cyrano and Christian. Christian and Cyrano are opposites in several ways. One is ugly, the other handsome. One is smart and artistic, the other simple. One is confident, the other noticeably shy but effectively charming. Cyrano, despite his awkward physical appearance, is the "most delightful man under the sun," a consistently brilliant and soulful man. Christian is beautiful to look at, but he lacks wit, poetry, and fire. By working together to woo Roxane, they form a more powerful single character, a "romantic hero. This romantic hero has the best of both worlds: Cyrano's inner beauty and Christian's outer beauty. Though together they form a romantic hero, Cyrano and Christian also risk becoming perceived as part fraud and part coward

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/22.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_3_part_1.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene i

act iii, scene i

{"name": "act iii, scene i", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/", "summary": "Ragueneau sits outside Roxane's house conversing with her duenna. He tells the duenna that his wife, Lise, ran off with a musketeer and that his bakery is ruined. He says that he tried to hang himself but that Cyrano found him, cut him down, and made him Roxane's steward. The duenna calls up to Roxane, telling her to hurry. They are going to a discussion group on the tender passion. Cyrano strides into the scene followed by a pair of musicians, whose services he won in a bet over a fine point of grammar. The musicians are terrible, however, and Cyrano sends them off to play an out-of-tune serenade to Montfleury. Roxane comes down, and she and Cyrano talk about Christian. Roxane says that Christian's letters have been breathtaking--he is more intellectual than even Cyrano, she declares. Moreover, she says that she loves Christian. She recites passages of the letters to Cyrano, who makes a show of critiquing the poetry. Roxane says that Cyrano is jealous of Christian's poetic talent. The duenna cries out that de Guiche is coming, and Cyrano, hastened by the duenna, hides inside the house", "analysis": ""}

Ragueneau, the duenna. Then Roxane, Cyrano, and two pages. RAGUENEAU: --And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:-- then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to take me for her steward. THE DUENNA: Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined? RAGUENEAU: Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was not long a-coming. THE DUENNA (rising, and calling up to the open window): Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us! ROXANE'S VOICE (from the window): I will but put me on a cloak! THE DUENNA (to Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite): They wait us there opposite, at Clomire's house. She receives them all there to-day--the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender Passion. RAGUENEAU: The Tender Passion? THE DUENNA (in a mincing voice): Ay, indeed! (Calling up to the window): Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the Tender Passion! ROXANE'S VOICE: I come! I come! (A sound of stringed instruments approaching.) CYRANO'S VOICE (behind the scenes, singing): La, la, la, la! THE DUENNA (surprised): They serenade us? CYRANO (followed by two pages with arch-lutes): I tell you they are demi-semi-quavers, demi-semi-fool! FIRST PAGE (ironically): You know then, Sir, to distinguish between semi-quavers and demi-semi- quavers? CYRANO: Is not every disciple of Gassendi a musician? THE PAGE (playing and singing): La, la! CYRANO (snatching the lute from him, and going on with the phrase): In proof of which, I can continue! La, la, la, la! ROXANE (appearing on the balcony): What? 'Tis you? CYRANO (going on with the air, and singing to it): 'Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o- oses! ROXANE: I am coming down! (She leaves the balcony.) THE DUENNA (pointing to the pages): How come these two virtuosi here? CYRANO: 'Tis for a wager I won of D'Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar; contradictions raged hotly--''Tis so!' 'Nay, 'tis so!' when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skillful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws! 'I will wager you a day's music,' says he!--And lost it! Thus, see you, till Phoebus' chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody. 'Twas pleasant at the first, but i' faith, I begin to weary of it already! (To the musicians): Ho there! go serenade Montfleury for me! Play a dance to him! (The pages go toward the door. To the duenna): I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether. . . (To the pages, who are going out): Play a long time,--and play out of tune! (To the duenna): . . .Whether her soul's elected is ever the same, ever faultless! ROXANE (coming out of the house): Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And--how well I love him! CYRANO (smiling): Christian has so brilliant a wit? ROXANE: Brighter than even your own, cousin! CYRANO: Be it so, with all my heart! ROXANE: Ah! methinks 'twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much-- that mean all! At times his mind seems far away, the Muse says naught--and then, presto! he speaks--bewitchingly! enchantingly! CYRANO (incredulously): No, no! ROXANE: Fie! That is ill said! But lo! men are ever thus! Because he is fair to see, you would have it that he must be dull of speech. CYRANO: He hath an eloquent tongue in telling his love? ROXANE: In telling his love? why, 'tis not simple telling, 'tis dissertation, 'tis analysis! CYRANO: How is he with the pen? ROXANE: Still better! Listen,--here:-- (Reciting): 'The more of my poor heart you take The larger grows my heart!' (Triumphantly to Cyrano): How like you those lines? CYRANO: Pooh! ROXANE: And thus it goes on. . . 'And, since some target I must show For Cupid's cruel dart, Oh, if mine own you deign to keep, Then give me your sweet heart!' CYRANO: Lord! first he has too much, then anon not enough! How much heart does the fellow want? ROXANE: You would vex a saint!. . .But 'tis your jealousy. CYRANO (starting): What mean you? ROXANE: Ay, your poet's jealousy! Hark now, if this again be not tender-sweet?-- 'My heart to yours sounds but one cry: If kisses fast could flee By letter, then with your sweet lips My letters read should be! If kisses could be writ with ink, If kisses fast could flee!' CYRANO (smiling approvingly in spite of himself): Ha! those last lines are,--hm!. . .hm!. . . (Correcting himself--contemptuously): --They are paltry enough! ROXANE: And this. . . CYRANO (enchanted): Then you have his letters by heart? ROXANE: Every one of them! CYRANO: By all oaths that can be sworn,--'tis flattering! ROXANE: They are the lines of a master! CYRANO (modestly): Come, nay. . .a master?. . . ROXANE: Ay, I say it--a master! CYRANO: Good--be it so. THE DUENNA (coming down quickly): Here comes Monsieur de Guiche! (To Cyrano, pushing him toward the house): In with you! 'twere best he see you not; it might perchance put him on the scent. . . ROXANE (to Cyrano): Ay, of my own dear secret! He loves me, and is powerful, and, if he knew, then all were lost! Marry! he could well deal a deathblow to my love! CYRANO (entering the house): Good! good! (De Guiche appears.)

act iii, scene i

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/

Ragueneau sits outside Roxane's house conversing with her duenna. He tells the duenna that his wife, Lise, ran off with a musketeer and that his bakery is ruined. He says that he tried to hang himself but that Cyrano found him, cut him down, and made him Roxane's steward. The duenna calls up to Roxane, telling her to hurry. They are going to a discussion group on the tender passion. Cyrano strides into the scene followed by a pair of musicians, whose services he won in a bet over a fine point of grammar. The musicians are terrible, however, and Cyrano sends them off to play an out-of-tune serenade to Montfleury. Roxane comes down, and she and Cyrano talk about Christian. Roxane says that Christian's letters have been breathtaking--he is more intellectual than even Cyrano, she declares. Moreover, she says that she loves Christian. She recites passages of the letters to Cyrano, who makes a show of critiquing the poetry. Roxane says that Cyrano is jealous of Christian's poetic talent. The duenna cries out that de Guiche is coming, and Cyrano, hastened by the duenna, hides inside the house

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/23.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_3_part_2.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene ii

act iii, scene ii

{"name": "act iii, scene ii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/", "summary": "De Guiche tells Roxane that he has come to say farewell. He has been made a colonel of an army regiment that is leaving that night to fight in the war with Spain. He mentions that the regiment includes Cyrano's guards, and he grimly predicts that he and Cyrano will have a reckoning. Afraid for Christian's safety if he should go to the front, Roxane quickly suggests that the best way for de Guiche to seek revenge on Cyrano would be for him to leave Cyrano and his cadets behind while the rest of the regiment goes on to military glory. After much flirtation from Roxane, de Guiche believes he should stay close by, concealed in a local monastery. When Roxane implies that she would feel more for de Guiche if he went to war, he agrees to march on steadfastly, leaving Cyrano and his cadets behind. He leaves, and Roxane makes the duenna promise she will not tell Cyrano that Roxane has robbed him of a chance to go to war", "analysis": ""}

Roxane, De Guiche, the duenna standing a little way off. ROXANE (courtesying to De Guiche): I was going out. DE GUICHE: I come to take my leave. ROXANE: Whither go you? DE GUICHE: To the war. ROXANE: Ah! DE GUICHE: Ay, to-night. ROXANE: Oh! DE GUICHE: I am ordered away. We are to besiege Arras. ROXANE: Ah--to besiege?. . . DE GUICHE: Ay. My going moves you not, meseems. ROXANE: Nay. . . DE GUICHE: I am grieved to the core of the heart. Shall I again behold you?. . .When? I know not. Heard you that I am named commander?. . . ROXANE (indifferently): Bravo! DE GUICHE: Of the Guards regiment. ROXANE (startled): What! the Guards? DE GUICHE: Ay, where serves your cousin, the swaggering boaster. I will find a way to revenge myself on him at Arras. ROXANE (choking): What mean you? The Guards go to Arras? DE GUICHE (laughing): Bethink you, is it not my own regiment? ROXANE (falling seated on the bench--aside): Christian! DE GUICHE: What ails you? ROXANE (moved deeply): Oh--I am in despair! The man one loves!--at the war! DE GUICHE (surprised and delighted): You say such sweet words to me! 'Tis the first time!--and just when I must quit you! ROXANE (collected, and fanning herself): Thus,--you would fain revenge your grudge against my cousin? DE GUICHE: My fair lady is on his side? ROXANE: Nay,--against him! DE GUICHE: Do you see him often? ROXANE: But very rarely. DE GUICHE: He is ever to be met now in company with one of the cadets,. . .one New-- villen--viller-- ROXANE: Of high stature? DE GUICHE: Fair-haired! ROXANE: Ay, a red-headed fellow! DE GUICHE: Handsome!. . . ROXANE: Tut! DE GUICHE: But dull-witted. ROXANE: One would think so, to look at him! (Changing her tone): How mean you to play your revenge on Cyrano? Perchance you think to put him i' the thick of the shots? Nay, believe me, that were a poor vengeance--he would love such a post better than aught else! I know the way to wound his pride far more keenly! DE GUICHE: What then? Tell. . . ROXANE: If, when the regiment march to Arras, he were left here with his beloved boon companions, the Cadets, to sit with crossed arms so long as the war lasted! There is your method, would you enrage a man of his kind; cheat him of his chance of mortal danger, and you punish him right fiercely. DE GUICHE (coming nearer): O woman! woman! Who but a woman had e'er devised so subtle a trick? ROXANE: See you not how he will eat out his heart, while his friends gnaw their thick fists for that they are deprived of the battle? So are you best avenged. DE GUICHE: You love me, then, a little? (She smiles): I would fain--seeing you thus espouse my cause, Roxane--believe it a proof of love! ROXANE: 'Tis a proof of love! DE GUICHE (showing some sealed papers): Here are the marching orders; they will be sent instantly to each company-- except-- (He detaches one): --This one! 'Tis that of the Cadets. (He puts it in his pocket): This I keep. (Laughing): Ha! ha! ha! Cyrano! His love of battle!. . .So you can play tricks on people?. . .you, of all ladies! ROXANE: Sometimes! DE GUICHE (coming close to her): Oh! how I love you!--to distraction! Listen! To-night--true, I ought to start--but--how leave you now that I feel your heart is touched! Hard by, in the Rue d'Orleans, is a convent founded by Father Athanasius, the syndic of the Capuchins. True that no layman may enter--but--I can settle that with the good Fathers! Their habit sleeves are wide enough to hide me in. 'Tis they who serve Richelieu's private chapel: and from respect to the uncle, fear the nephew. All will deem me gone. I will come to you, masked. Give me leave to wait till tomorrow, sweet Lady Fanciful! ROXANE: But, of this be rumored, your glory. . . DE GUICHE: Bah! ROXANE: But the siege--Arras. . . DE GUICHE: 'Twill take its chance. Grant but permission. ROXANE: No! DE GUICHE: Give me leave! ROXANE (tenderly): It were my duty to forbid you! DE GUICHE: Ah! ROXANE: You must go! (Aside): Christian stays here. (Aloud): I would have you heroic--Antoine! DE GUICHE: O heavenly word! You love, then, him?. . . ROXANE: . . .For whom I trembled. DE GUICHE (in an ecstasy): Ah! I go then! (He kisses her hand): Are you content? ROXANE: Yes, my friend! (He goes out.) THE DUENNA (making behind his back a mocking courtesy): Yes, my friend! ROXANE (to the duenna): Not a word of what I have done. Cyrano would never pardon me for stealing his fighting from him! (She calls toward the house): Cousin!

act iii, scene ii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/

De Guiche tells Roxane that he has come to say farewell. He has been made a colonel of an army regiment that is leaving that night to fight in the war with Spain. He mentions that the regiment includes Cyrano's guards, and he grimly predicts that he and Cyrano will have a reckoning. Afraid for Christian's safety if he should go to the front, Roxane quickly suggests that the best way for de Guiche to seek revenge on Cyrano would be for him to leave Cyrano and his cadets behind while the rest of the regiment goes on to military glory. After much flirtation from Roxane, de Guiche believes he should stay close by, concealed in a local monastery. When Roxane implies that she would feel more for de Guiche if he went to war, he agrees to march on steadfastly, leaving Cyrano and his cadets behind. He leaves, and Roxane makes the duenna promise she will not tell Cyrano that Roxane has robbed him of a chance to go to war

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/24.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_3_part_3.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene iii

act iii, scene iii

{"name": "act iii, scene iii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/", "summary": "Roxane expects Christian to come visit her, and she tells the duenna to make him wait if he does. Cyrano presses Roxane to disclose that instead of questioning Christian on any particular subject, she plans to make Christian improvise about love. Cyrano agrees that he will not tell Christian the details of her plot, a gesture Roxane appreciates. She conjectures that Christian would prepare a speech to her if he knew. Roxane and the duenna leave, and Cyrano calls to Christian, who has been waiting nearby", "analysis": ""}

Roxane, The duenna, Cyrano. ROXANE: We are going to Clomire's house. (She points to the door opposite): Alcandre and Lysimon are to discourse! THE DUENNA (putting her little finger in her ear): Yes! But my little finger tells me we shall miss them. CYRANO: 'Twere a pity to miss such apes! (They have come to Clomire's door.) THE DUENNA: Oh, see! The knocker is muffled up! (Speaking to the knocker): So they have gagged that metal tongue of yours, little noisy one, lest it should disturb the fine orators! (She lifts it carefully and knocks with precaution.) ROXANE (seeing that the door opens): Let us enter! (On the threshold, to Cyrano): If Christian comes, as I feel sure he will, bid him wait for me! CYRANO (quickly, as she is going in): Listen! (She turns): What mean you to question him on, as is your wont, to-night? ROXANE: Oh-- CYRANO (eagerly): Well, say. ROXANE: But you will be mute? CYRANO: Mute as a fish. ROXANE: I shall not question him at all, but say: Give rein to your fancy! Prepare not your speeches,--but speak the thoughts as they come! Speak to me of love, and speak splendidly! CYRANO (smiling): Very good! ROXANE: But secret!. . . CYRANO: Secret. ROXANE: Not a word! (She enters and shuts the door.) CYRANO (when the door is shut, bowing to her): A thousand thanks! (The door opens again, and Roxane puts her head out.) ROXANE: Lest he prepare himself! CYRANO: The devil!--no, no! BOTH TOGETHER: Secret. (The door shuts.) CYRANO (calling): Christian!

act iii, scene iii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/

Roxane expects Christian to come visit her, and she tells the duenna to make him wait if he does. Cyrano presses Roxane to disclose that instead of questioning Christian on any particular subject, she plans to make Christian improvise about love. Cyrano agrees that he will not tell Christian the details of her plot, a gesture Roxane appreciates. She conjectures that Christian would prepare a speech to her if he knew. Roxane and the duenna leave, and Cyrano calls to Christian, who has been waiting nearby

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/25.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_3_part_4.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene iv

act iii, scene iv

{"name": "act iii, scene iv", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/", "summary": "Cyrano tries to help Christian prepare for his meeting with Roxane. He urges Christian to learn lines Cyrano has written. But Christian refuses. He says he wants to speak to Roxane in his own words, and Cyrano bows to Christian, saying, \"Speak for yourself, sir.", "analysis": "Act III, scenes i-iv Rostand's play does not hold musketeers in high esteem. This dislike becomes immediately apparent when the distasteful Lise runs away with one. Many of the references to the musketeers and to Dumas's The Three Musketeers are overwhelmingly negative. By this point, the musketeers have been developed as symbols of an antiquated and corrupt past. Rostand uses the musketeers as moral foils, contrasting them with more noble characters, such as Cyrano, Roxane, and even Christian. For instance, when Lise's despicable actions with the musketeer drive Ragueneau to desperate measures, Cyrano saves Ragueneau's life, consoles him, and finds him a job. Cyrano cleans up the mess made by the musketeers. Cyrano's development as a heroic and moral character becomes even more remarkable in these scenes. He displays his knowledge of music, language, and mathematics. Despite his affection for Roxane, Cyrano enjoys helping Christian win her love, a fact that exemplifies Cyrano's attraction to challenges of all kinds. But he also displays modesty: when Roxane praises the letters, which he secretly wrote, Cyrano does not believe that they have truly affected her. He realizes this impact, or allows himself to realize it, only when Roxane recites many of the lines back to him by heart. Cyrano may be proud, but he is also unbelievably humble. These scenes present Roxane as an expert moderator who has powerful skills of persuasion. First, she convinces Cyrano about the beauty of the letters. But her most important achievement is persuading de Guiche to forgo taking vengeance upon Cyrano. Perhaps de Guiche's reluctance can be attributed to his feelings for Roxane, but it is her persuasive flirting that clearly affects him. The contrast between Cyrano and Christian intensifies in these scenes: Cyrano is humble and reserved, and Christian is proud and supremely confident, yet simple-minded. Given Cyrano's incomparable love for Roxane, his ability to maintain a strong sense of reserve as she compliments the letters is remarkable. In comparison, Christian is more excited than Cyrano, though he did not even write the letters. At the end of scene iv, Christian seems somewhat unappreciative of Cyrano and believes the wooing is complete. Christian doesn't understand that his decision to speak to Roxane without Cyrano's help might lead him down a difficult and disastrous path"}

Cyrano, Christian. CYRANO: I know all that is needful. Here's occasion For you to deck yourself with glory. Come, Lose no time; put away those sulky looks, Come to your house with me, I'll teach you. . . CHRISTIAN: No! CYRANO: Why? CHRISTIAN: I will wait for Roxane here. CYRANO: How? Crazy? Come quick with me and learn. . . CHRISTIAN: No, no! I say. I am aweary of these borrowed letters, --Borrowed love-makings! Thus to act a part, And tremble all the time!--'Twas well enough At the beginning!--Now I know she loves! I fear no longer!--I will speak myself. CYRANO: Mercy! CHRISTIAN: And how know you I cannot speak?-- I am not such a fool when all is said! I've by your lessons profited. You'll see I shall know how to speak alone! The devil! I know at least to clasp her in my arms! (Seeing Roxane come out from Clomire's house): --It is she! Cyrano, no!--Leave me not! CYRANO (bowing): Speak for yourself, my friend, and take your chance. (He disappears behind the garden wall.)

act iii, scene iv

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section4/

Cyrano tries to help Christian prepare for his meeting with Roxane. He urges Christian to learn lines Cyrano has written. But Christian refuses. He says he wants to speak to Roxane in his own words, and Cyrano bows to Christian, saying, "Speak for yourself, sir.

Act III, scenes i-iv Rostand's play does not hold musketeers in high esteem. This dislike becomes immediately apparent when the distasteful Lise runs away with one. Many of the references to the musketeers and to Dumas's The Three Musketeers are overwhelmingly negative. By this point, the musketeers have been developed as symbols of an antiquated and corrupt past. Rostand uses the musketeers as moral foils, contrasting them with more noble characters, such as Cyrano, Roxane, and even Christian. For instance, when Lise's despicable actions with the musketeer drive Ragueneau to desperate measures, Cyrano saves Ragueneau's life, consoles him, and finds him a job. Cyrano cleans up the mess made by the musketeers. Cyrano's development as a heroic and moral character becomes even more remarkable in these scenes. He displays his knowledge of music, language, and mathematics. Despite his affection for Roxane, Cyrano enjoys helping Christian win her love, a fact that exemplifies Cyrano's attraction to challenges of all kinds. But he also displays modesty: when Roxane praises the letters, which he secretly wrote, Cyrano does not believe that they have truly affected her. He realizes this impact, or allows himself to realize it, only when Roxane recites many of the lines back to him by heart. Cyrano may be proud, but he is also unbelievably humble. These scenes present Roxane as an expert moderator who has powerful skills of persuasion. First, she convinces Cyrano about the beauty of the letters. But her most important achievement is persuading de Guiche to forgo taking vengeance upon Cyrano. Perhaps de Guiche's reluctance can be attributed to his feelings for Roxane, but it is her persuasive flirting that clearly affects him. The contrast between Cyrano and Christian intensifies in these scenes: Cyrano is humble and reserved, and Christian is proud and supremely confident, yet simple-minded. Given Cyrano's incomparable love for Roxane, his ability to maintain a strong sense of reserve as she compliments the letters is remarkable. In comparison, Christian is more excited than Cyrano, though he did not even write the letters. At the end of scene iv, Christian seems somewhat unappreciative of Cyrano and believes the wooing is complete. Christian doesn't understand that his decision to speak to Roxane without Cyrano's help might lead him down a difficult and disastrous path

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/22.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_1.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene v

act iii, scene v

{"name": "act iii, scene v", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/", "summary": "Roxane and the duenna return. Roxane and Christian sit outdoors, and Roxane asks Christian to tell her how he loves her. He tries, but all he can say is \"I love you,\" \"I adore you,\" \"I love you very much,\" and other simple variations. Angry, Roxane goes into the house. Cyrano returns, ironically congratulating Christian on his great success", "analysis": ""}

Ragueneau, the duenna. Then Roxane, Cyrano, and two pages. RAGUENEAU: --And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:-- then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to take me for her steward. THE DUENNA: Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined? RAGUENEAU: Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was not long a-coming. THE DUENNA (rising, and calling up to the open window): Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us! ROXANE'S VOICE (from the window): I will but put me on a cloak! THE DUENNA (to Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite): They wait us there opposite, at Clomire's house. She receives them all there to-day--the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender Passion. RAGUENEAU: The Tender Passion? THE DUENNA (in a mincing voice): Ay, indeed! (Calling up to the window): Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the Tender Passion! ROXANE'S VOICE: I come! I come! (A sound of stringed instruments approaching.) CYRANO'S VOICE (behind the scenes, singing): La, la, la, la! THE DUENNA (surprised): They serenade us? CYRANO (followed by two pages with arch-lutes): I tell you they are demi-semi-quavers, demi-semi-fool! FIRST PAGE (ironically): You know then, Sir, to distinguish between semi-quavers and demi-semi- quavers? CYRANO: Is not every disciple of Gassendi a musician? THE PAGE (playing and singing): La, la! CYRANO (snatching the lute from him, and going on with the phrase): In proof of which, I can continue! La, la, la, la! ROXANE (appearing on the balcony): What? 'Tis you? CYRANO (going on with the air, and singing to it): 'Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o- oses! ROXANE: I am coming down! (She leaves the balcony.) THE DUENNA (pointing to the pages): How come these two virtuosi here? CYRANO: 'Tis for a wager I won of D'Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar; contradictions raged hotly--''Tis so!' 'Nay, 'tis so!' when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skillful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws! 'I will wager you a day's music,' says he!--And lost it! Thus, see you, till Phoebus' chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody. 'Twas pleasant at the first, but i' faith, I begin to weary of it already! (To the musicians): Ho there! go serenade Montfleury for me! Play a dance to him! (The pages go toward the door. To the duenna): I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether. . . (To the pages, who are going out): Play a long time,--and play out of tune! (To the duenna): . . .Whether her soul's elected is ever the same, ever faultless! ROXANE (coming out of the house): Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And--how well I love him! CYRANO (smiling): Christian has so brilliant a wit? ROXANE: Brighter than even your own, cousin! CYRANO: Be it so, with all my heart! ROXANE: Ah! methinks 'twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much-- that mean all! At times his mind seems far away, the Muse says naught--and then, presto! he speaks--bewitchingly! enchantingly! CYRANO (incredulously): No, no! ROXANE: Fie! That is ill said! But lo! men are ever thus! Because he is fair to see, you would have it that he must be dull of speech. CYRANO: He hath an eloquent tongue in telling his love? ROXANE: In telling his love? why, 'tis not simple telling, 'tis dissertation, 'tis analysis! CYRANO: How is he with the pen? ROXANE: Still better! Listen,--here:-- (Reciting): 'The more of my poor heart you take The larger grows my heart!' (Triumphantly to Cyrano): How like you those lines? CYRANO: Pooh! ROXANE: And thus it goes on. . . 'And, since some target I must show For Cupid's cruel dart, Oh, if mine own you deign to keep, Then give me your sweet heart!' CYRANO: Lord! first he has too much, then anon not enough! How much heart does the fellow want? ROXANE: You would vex a saint!. . .But 'tis your jealousy. CYRANO (starting): What mean you? ROXANE: Ay, your poet's jealousy! Hark now, if this again be not tender-sweet?-- 'My heart to yours sounds but one cry: If kisses fast could flee By letter, then with your sweet lips My letters read should be! If kisses could be writ with ink, If kisses fast could flee!' CYRANO (smiling approvingly in spite of himself): Ha! those last lines are,--hm!. . .hm!. . . (Correcting himself--contemptuously): --They are paltry enough! ROXANE: And this. . . CYRANO (enchanted): Then you have his letters by heart? ROXANE: Every one of them! CYRANO: By all oaths that can be sworn,--'tis flattering! ROXANE: They are the lines of a master! CYRANO (modestly): Come, nay. . .a master?. . . ROXANE: Ay, I say it--a master! CYRANO: Good--be it so. THE DUENNA (coming down quickly): Here comes Monsieur de Guiche! (To Cyrano, pushing him toward the house): In with you! 'twere best he see you not; it might perchance put him on the scent. . . ROXANE (to Cyrano): Ay, of my own dear secret! He loves me, and is powerful, and, if he knew, then all were lost! Marry! he could well deal a deathblow to my love! CYRANO (entering the house): Good! good! (De Guiche appears.)

act iii, scene v

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/

Roxane and the duenna return. Roxane and Christian sit outdoors, and Roxane asks Christian to tell her how he loves her. He tries, but all he can say is "I love you," "I adore you," "I love you very much," and other simple variations. Angry, Roxane goes into the house. Cyrano returns, ironically congratulating Christian on his great success

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/23.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_2.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene vi

act iii, scene vi

{"name": "act iii, scene vi", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/", "summary": "Seeing a light in Roxane's window, Christian asks Cyrano for help. In the dark, Cyrano hides underneath Roxane's balcony while Christian stands in front of it. He throws gravel at Roxane's window, and when she comes out, Cyrano whispers words for Christian to recite", "analysis": ""}

Roxane, De Guiche, the duenna standing a little way off. ROXANE (courtesying to De Guiche): I was going out. DE GUICHE: I come to take my leave. ROXANE: Whither go you? DE GUICHE: To the war. ROXANE: Ah! DE GUICHE: Ay, to-night. ROXANE: Oh! DE GUICHE: I am ordered away. We are to besiege Arras. ROXANE: Ah--to besiege?. . . DE GUICHE: Ay. My going moves you not, meseems. ROXANE: Nay. . . DE GUICHE: I am grieved to the core of the heart. Shall I again behold you?. . .When? I know not. Heard you that I am named commander?. . . ROXANE (indifferently): Bravo! DE GUICHE: Of the Guards regiment. ROXANE (startled): What! the Guards? DE GUICHE: Ay, where serves your cousin, the swaggering boaster. I will find a way to revenge myself on him at Arras. ROXANE (choking): What mean you? The Guards go to Arras? DE GUICHE (laughing): Bethink you, is it not my own regiment? ROXANE (falling seated on the bench--aside): Christian! DE GUICHE: What ails you? ROXANE (moved deeply): Oh--I am in despair! The man one loves!--at the war! DE GUICHE (surprised and delighted): You say such sweet words to me! 'Tis the first time!--and just when I must quit you! ROXANE (collected, and fanning herself): Thus,--you would fain revenge your grudge against my cousin? DE GUICHE: My fair lady is on his side? ROXANE: Nay,--against him! DE GUICHE: Do you see him often? ROXANE: But very rarely. DE GUICHE: He is ever to be met now in company with one of the cadets,. . .one New-- villen--viller-- ROXANE: Of high stature? DE GUICHE: Fair-haired! ROXANE: Ay, a red-headed fellow! DE GUICHE: Handsome!. . . ROXANE: Tut! DE GUICHE: But dull-witted. ROXANE: One would think so, to look at him! (Changing her tone): How mean you to play your revenge on Cyrano? Perchance you think to put him i' the thick of the shots? Nay, believe me, that were a poor vengeance--he would love such a post better than aught else! I know the way to wound his pride far more keenly! DE GUICHE: What then? Tell. . . ROXANE: If, when the regiment march to Arras, he were left here with his beloved boon companions, the Cadets, to sit with crossed arms so long as the war lasted! There is your method, would you enrage a man of his kind; cheat him of his chance of mortal danger, and you punish him right fiercely. DE GUICHE (coming nearer): O woman! woman! Who but a woman had e'er devised so subtle a trick? ROXANE: See you not how he will eat out his heart, while his friends gnaw their thick fists for that they are deprived of the battle? So are you best avenged. DE GUICHE: You love me, then, a little? (She smiles): I would fain--seeing you thus espouse my cause, Roxane--believe it a proof of love! ROXANE: 'Tis a proof of love! DE GUICHE (showing some sealed papers): Here are the marching orders; they will be sent instantly to each company-- except-- (He detaches one): --This one! 'Tis that of the Cadets. (He puts it in his pocket): This I keep. (Laughing): Ha! ha! ha! Cyrano! His love of battle!. . .So you can play tricks on people?. . .you, of all ladies! ROXANE: Sometimes! DE GUICHE (coming close to her): Oh! how I love you!--to distraction! Listen! To-night--true, I ought to start--but--how leave you now that I feel your heart is touched! Hard by, in the Rue d'Orleans, is a convent founded by Father Athanasius, the syndic of the Capuchins. True that no layman may enter--but--I can settle that with the good Fathers! Their habit sleeves are wide enough to hide me in. 'Tis they who serve Richelieu's private chapel: and from respect to the uncle, fear the nephew. All will deem me gone. I will come to you, masked. Give me leave to wait till tomorrow, sweet Lady Fanciful! ROXANE: But, of this be rumored, your glory. . . DE GUICHE: Bah! ROXANE: But the siege--Arras. . . DE GUICHE: 'Twill take its chance. Grant but permission. ROXANE: No! DE GUICHE: Give me leave! ROXANE (tenderly): It were my duty to forbid you! DE GUICHE: Ah! ROXANE: You must go! (Aside): Christian stays here. (Aloud): I would have you heroic--Antoine! DE GUICHE: O heavenly word! You love, then, him?. . . ROXANE: . . .For whom I trembled. DE GUICHE (in an ecstasy): Ah! I go then! (He kisses her hand): Are you content? ROXANE: Yes, my friend! (He goes out.) THE DUENNA (making behind his back a mocking courtesy): Yes, my friend! ROXANE (to the duenna): Not a word of what I have done. Cyrano would never pardon me for stealing his fighting from him! (She calls toward the house): Cousin!

act iii, scene vi

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/

Seeing a light in Roxane's window, Christian asks Cyrano for help. In the dark, Cyrano hides underneath Roxane's balcony while Christian stands in front of it. He throws gravel at Roxane's window, and when she comes out, Cyrano whispers words for Christian to recite

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/24.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_3.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene vii

act iii, scene vii

{"name": "act iii, scene vii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/", "summary": "Moved by Christian's words, Roxane then asks why he speaks so haltingly. Impatient, Cyrano thrusts Christian under the balcony and takes his place, still hidden in darkness. Speaking in a low voice, he confides in Roxane the things he has always longed to tell her. As Roxane becomes more and more hypnotized by Cyrano's poetry, Christian cries out from beneath the balcony that he wants one kiss. At first, Cyrano tries to dissuade him, but he decides that he cannot prevent the inevitable and that, at the very least, he would like to be the one to win the kiss. Thus, Cyrano stands beneath Roxane's balcony and persuades her to kiss him. Christian climbs up to receive the kiss", "analysis": ""}

Roxane, The duenna, Cyrano. ROXANE: We are going to Clomire's house. (She points to the door opposite): Alcandre and Lysimon are to discourse! THE DUENNA (putting her little finger in her ear): Yes! But my little finger tells me we shall miss them. CYRANO: 'Twere a pity to miss such apes! (They have come to Clomire's door.) THE DUENNA: Oh, see! The knocker is muffled up! (Speaking to the knocker): So they have gagged that metal tongue of yours, little noisy one, lest it should disturb the fine orators! (She lifts it carefully and knocks with precaution.) ROXANE (seeing that the door opens): Let us enter! (On the threshold, to Cyrano): If Christian comes, as I feel sure he will, bid him wait for me! CYRANO (quickly, as she is going in): Listen! (She turns): What mean you to question him on, as is your wont, to-night? ROXANE: Oh-- CYRANO (eagerly): Well, say. ROXANE: But you will be mute? CYRANO: Mute as a fish. ROXANE: I shall not question him at all, but say: Give rein to your fancy! Prepare not your speeches,--but speak the thoughts as they come! Speak to me of love, and speak splendidly! CYRANO (smiling): Very good! ROXANE: But secret!. . . CYRANO: Secret. ROXANE: Not a word! (She enters and shuts the door.) CYRANO (when the door is shut, bowing to her): A thousand thanks! (The door opens again, and Roxane puts her head out.) ROXANE: Lest he prepare himself! CYRANO: The devil!--no, no! BOTH TOGETHER: Secret. (The door shuts.) CYRANO (calling): Christian!

act iii, scene vii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/

Moved by Christian's words, Roxane then asks why he speaks so haltingly. Impatient, Cyrano thrusts Christian under the balcony and takes his place, still hidden in darkness. Speaking in a low voice, he confides in Roxane the things he has always longed to tell her. As Roxane becomes more and more hypnotized by Cyrano's poetry, Christian cries out from beneath the balcony that he wants one kiss. At first, Cyrano tries to dissuade him, but he decides that he cannot prevent the inevitable and that, at the very least, he would like to be the one to win the kiss. Thus, Cyrano stands beneath Roxane's balcony and persuades her to kiss him. Christian climbs up to receive the kiss

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/25.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_4.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene viii

act iii, scene viii

{"name": "act iii, scene viii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/", "summary": "A Capuchin priest enters, having found his way to Roxane's house. He presents a letter from de Guiche. The letter says that de Guiche has escaped his military service by hiding in a convent. Pretending to read it aloud, Roxane says that de Guiche desires the Capuchin to marry Roxane and Christian on the spot. The Capuchin hesitates, but Roxane pretends to discover a postscript that promises a great deal of money to the convent in exchange. Suddenly, the Capuchin's reservations evaporate, and he goes inside to marry them", "analysis": ""}

Cyrano, Christian. CYRANO: I know all that is needful. Here's occasion For you to deck yourself with glory. Come, Lose no time; put away those sulky looks, Come to your house with me, I'll teach you. . . CHRISTIAN: No! CYRANO: Why? CHRISTIAN: I will wait for Roxane here. CYRANO: How? Crazy? Come quick with me and learn. . . CHRISTIAN: No, no! I say. I am aweary of these borrowed letters, --Borrowed love-makings! Thus to act a part, And tremble all the time!--'Twas well enough At the beginning!--Now I know she loves! I fear no longer!--I will speak myself. CYRANO: Mercy! CHRISTIAN: And how know you I cannot speak?-- I am not such a fool when all is said! I've by your lessons profited. You'll see I shall know how to speak alone! The devil! I know at least to clasp her in my arms! (Seeing Roxane come out from Clomire's house): --It is she! Cyrano, no!--Leave me not! CYRANO (bowing): Speak for yourself, my friend, and take your chance. (He disappears behind the garden wall.)

act iii, scene viii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/

A Capuchin priest enters, having found his way to Roxane's house. He presents a letter from de Guiche. The letter says that de Guiche has escaped his military service by hiding in a convent. Pretending to read it aloud, Roxane says that de Guiche desires the Capuchin to marry Roxane and Christian on the spot. The Capuchin hesitates, but Roxane pretends to discover a postscript that promises a great deal of money to the convent in exchange. Suddenly, the Capuchin's reservations evaporate, and he goes inside to marry them

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/22.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_5.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene ix

act iii, scene ix

{"name": "act iii, scene ix", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/", "summary": "Cyrano waits outside to prevent de Guiche from disrupting the impromptu wedding", "analysis": ""}

Ragueneau, the duenna. Then Roxane, Cyrano, and two pages. RAGUENEAU: --And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:-- then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to take me for her steward. THE DUENNA: Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined? RAGUENEAU: Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was not long a-coming. THE DUENNA (rising, and calling up to the open window): Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us! ROXANE'S VOICE (from the window): I will but put me on a cloak! THE DUENNA (to Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite): They wait us there opposite, at Clomire's house. She receives them all there to-day--the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender Passion. RAGUENEAU: The Tender Passion? THE DUENNA (in a mincing voice): Ay, indeed! (Calling up to the window): Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the Tender Passion! ROXANE'S VOICE: I come! I come! (A sound of stringed instruments approaching.) CYRANO'S VOICE (behind the scenes, singing): La, la, la, la! THE DUENNA (surprised): They serenade us? CYRANO (followed by two pages with arch-lutes): I tell you they are demi-semi-quavers, demi-semi-fool! FIRST PAGE (ironically): You know then, Sir, to distinguish between semi-quavers and demi-semi- quavers? CYRANO: Is not every disciple of Gassendi a musician? THE PAGE (playing and singing): La, la! CYRANO (snatching the lute from him, and going on with the phrase): In proof of which, I can continue! La, la, la, la! ROXANE (appearing on the balcony): What? 'Tis you? CYRANO (going on with the air, and singing to it): 'Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o- oses! ROXANE: I am coming down! (She leaves the balcony.) THE DUENNA (pointing to the pages): How come these two virtuosi here? CYRANO: 'Tis for a wager I won of D'Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar; contradictions raged hotly--''Tis so!' 'Nay, 'tis so!' when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skillful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws! 'I will wager you a day's music,' says he!--And lost it! Thus, see you, till Phoebus' chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody. 'Twas pleasant at the first, but i' faith, I begin to weary of it already! (To the musicians): Ho there! go serenade Montfleury for me! Play a dance to him! (The pages go toward the door. To the duenna): I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether. . . (To the pages, who are going out): Play a long time,--and play out of tune! (To the duenna): . . .Whether her soul's elected is ever the same, ever faultless! ROXANE (coming out of the house): Ah! How handsome he is, how brilliant a wit! And--how well I love him! CYRANO (smiling): Christian has so brilliant a wit? ROXANE: Brighter than even your own, cousin! CYRANO: Be it so, with all my heart! ROXANE: Ah! methinks 'twere impossible that there could breathe a man on this earth skilled to say as sweetly as he all the pretty nothings that mean so much-- that mean all! At times his mind seems far away, the Muse says naught--and then, presto! he speaks--bewitchingly! enchantingly! CYRANO (incredulously): No, no! ROXANE: Fie! That is ill said! But lo! men are ever thus! Because he is fair to see, you would have it that he must be dull of speech. CYRANO: He hath an eloquent tongue in telling his love? ROXANE: In telling his love? why, 'tis not simple telling, 'tis dissertation, 'tis analysis! CYRANO: How is he with the pen? ROXANE: Still better! Listen,--here:-- (Reciting): 'The more of my poor heart you take The larger grows my heart!' (Triumphantly to Cyrano): How like you those lines? CYRANO: Pooh! ROXANE: And thus it goes on. . . 'And, since some target I must show For Cupid's cruel dart, Oh, if mine own you deign to keep, Then give me your sweet heart!' CYRANO: Lord! first he has too much, then anon not enough! How much heart does the fellow want? ROXANE: You would vex a saint!. . .But 'tis your jealousy. CYRANO (starting): What mean you? ROXANE: Ay, your poet's jealousy! Hark now, if this again be not tender-sweet?-- 'My heart to yours sounds but one cry: If kisses fast could flee By letter, then with your sweet lips My letters read should be! If kisses could be writ with ink, If kisses fast could flee!' CYRANO (smiling approvingly in spite of himself): Ha! those last lines are,--hm!. . .hm!. . . (Correcting himself--contemptuously): --They are paltry enough! ROXANE: And this. . . CYRANO (enchanted): Then you have his letters by heart? ROXANE: Every one of them! CYRANO: By all oaths that can be sworn,--'tis flattering! ROXANE: They are the lines of a master! CYRANO (modestly): Come, nay. . .a master?. . . ROXANE: Ay, I say it--a master! CYRANO: Good--be it so. THE DUENNA (coming down quickly): Here comes Monsieur de Guiche! (To Cyrano, pushing him toward the house): In with you! 'twere best he see you not; it might perchance put him on the scent. . . ROXANE (to Cyrano): Ay, of my own dear secret! He loves me, and is powerful, and, if he knew, then all were lost! Marry! he could well deal a deathblow to my love! CYRANO (entering the house): Good! good! (De Guiche appears.)

act iii, scene ix

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/

Cyrano waits outside to prevent de Guiche from disrupting the impromptu wedding

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/23.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_6.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene x

act iii, scene x

{"name": "act iii, scene x", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/", "summary": "De Guiche appears. Covering his face with his hat, Cyrano leaps onto de Guiche from a tree. Pretending to be a person who has just fallen from the moon, he distracts de Guiche with an insane speech about his experiences in space. At last he removes his hat, reveals himself as Cyrano, and announces that Roxane and Christian are now married", "analysis": ""}

Roxane, De Guiche, the duenna standing a little way off. ROXANE (courtesying to De Guiche): I was going out. DE GUICHE: I come to take my leave. ROXANE: Whither go you? DE GUICHE: To the war. ROXANE: Ah! DE GUICHE: Ay, to-night. ROXANE: Oh! DE GUICHE: I am ordered away. We are to besiege Arras. ROXANE: Ah--to besiege?. . . DE GUICHE: Ay. My going moves you not, meseems. ROXANE: Nay. . . DE GUICHE: I am grieved to the core of the heart. Shall I again behold you?. . .When? I know not. Heard you that I am named commander?. . . ROXANE (indifferently): Bravo! DE GUICHE: Of the Guards regiment. ROXANE (startled): What! the Guards? DE GUICHE: Ay, where serves your cousin, the swaggering boaster. I will find a way to revenge myself on him at Arras. ROXANE (choking): What mean you? The Guards go to Arras? DE GUICHE (laughing): Bethink you, is it not my own regiment? ROXANE (falling seated on the bench--aside): Christian! DE GUICHE: What ails you? ROXANE (moved deeply): Oh--I am in despair! The man one loves!--at the war! DE GUICHE (surprised and delighted): You say such sweet words to me! 'Tis the first time!--and just when I must quit you! ROXANE (collected, and fanning herself): Thus,--you would fain revenge your grudge against my cousin? DE GUICHE: My fair lady is on his side? ROXANE: Nay,--against him! DE GUICHE: Do you see him often? ROXANE: But very rarely. DE GUICHE: He is ever to be met now in company with one of the cadets,. . .one New-- villen--viller-- ROXANE: Of high stature? DE GUICHE: Fair-haired! ROXANE: Ay, a red-headed fellow! DE GUICHE: Handsome!. . . ROXANE: Tut! DE GUICHE: But dull-witted. ROXANE: One would think so, to look at him! (Changing her tone): How mean you to play your revenge on Cyrano? Perchance you think to put him i' the thick of the shots? Nay, believe me, that were a poor vengeance--he would love such a post better than aught else! I know the way to wound his pride far more keenly! DE GUICHE: What then? Tell. . . ROXANE: If, when the regiment march to Arras, he were left here with his beloved boon companions, the Cadets, to sit with crossed arms so long as the war lasted! There is your method, would you enrage a man of his kind; cheat him of his chance of mortal danger, and you punish him right fiercely. DE GUICHE (coming nearer): O woman! woman! Who but a woman had e'er devised so subtle a trick? ROXANE: See you not how he will eat out his heart, while his friends gnaw their thick fists for that they are deprived of the battle? So are you best avenged. DE GUICHE: You love me, then, a little? (She smiles): I would fain--seeing you thus espouse my cause, Roxane--believe it a proof of love! ROXANE: 'Tis a proof of love! DE GUICHE (showing some sealed papers): Here are the marching orders; they will be sent instantly to each company-- except-- (He detaches one): --This one! 'Tis that of the Cadets. (He puts it in his pocket): This I keep. (Laughing): Ha! ha! ha! Cyrano! His love of battle!. . .So you can play tricks on people?. . .you, of all ladies! ROXANE: Sometimes! DE GUICHE (coming close to her): Oh! how I love you!--to distraction! Listen! To-night--true, I ought to start--but--how leave you now that I feel your heart is touched! Hard by, in the Rue d'Orleans, is a convent founded by Father Athanasius, the syndic of the Capuchins. True that no layman may enter--but--I can settle that with the good Fathers! Their habit sleeves are wide enough to hide me in. 'Tis they who serve Richelieu's private chapel: and from respect to the uncle, fear the nephew. All will deem me gone. I will come to you, masked. Give me leave to wait till tomorrow, sweet Lady Fanciful! ROXANE: But, of this be rumored, your glory. . . DE GUICHE: Bah! ROXANE: But the siege--Arras. . . DE GUICHE: 'Twill take its chance. Grant but permission. ROXANE: No! DE GUICHE: Give me leave! ROXANE (tenderly): It were my duty to forbid you! DE GUICHE: Ah! ROXANE: You must go! (Aside): Christian stays here. (Aloud): I would have you heroic--Antoine! DE GUICHE: O heavenly word! You love, then, him?. . . ROXANE: . . .For whom I trembled. DE GUICHE (in an ecstasy): Ah! I go then! (He kisses her hand): Are you content? ROXANE: Yes, my friend! (He goes out.) THE DUENNA (making behind his back a mocking courtesy): Yes, my friend! ROXANE (to the duenna): Not a word of what I have done. Cyrano would never pardon me for stealing his fighting from him! (She calls toward the house): Cousin!

act iii, scene x

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/

De Guiche appears. Covering his face with his hat, Cyrano leaps onto de Guiche from a tree. Pretending to be a person who has just fallen from the moon, he distracts de Guiche with an insane speech about his experiences in space. At last he removes his hat, reveals himself as Cyrano, and announces that Roxane and Christian are now married

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/24.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_4_part_7.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iii.scene xi

act iii, scene xi

{"name": "act iii, scene xi", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/", "summary": "The couple comes out of the house. De Guiche coldly congratulates them but orders Roxane to bid her husband farewell: the guards will go to the war after all, and they will depart immediately. De Guiche triumphantly tells Cyrano that the wedding night will have to wait. Under his breath, Cyrano remarks that the news fails to upset him. Roxane, afraid for Christian, urges Cyrano to promise to keep him safe, to keep him out of dangerous situations, to keep him dry and warm, and to keep him faithful. Cyrano says that he will do what he can but that he cannot promise anything. Roxane begs Cyrano to promise to make Christian write to her every day. Brightening, Cyrano announces confidently that he can promise that.", "analysis": "Act III, scenes v-xiv The balcony scene is the most famous scene in Cyrano de Bergerac. It is at once brilliantly funny and genuinely touching. The humor of the play becomes more sophisticated in Act III. In the earlier parts of the play, most of the humor stems from Cyrano's outrageous behavior. Here, the humor begins to take the form of elaborate dramatic irony. For example, Roxane believes Cyrano to be Christian, and de Guiche doesn't recognize Cyrano when he claims to have fallen from space. The comic timing in this act is flawless. Cyrano's aside about how he secretly does not mind that the wedding night will be delayed comes at just the right moment. Another important source of humor in Act III is parody: the balcony scene derives a great deal of its humor by ridiculing the famous balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. De Guiche, the play's main antagonist, begins to influence the plot directly in this act. In Act I, de Guiche was in love with Roxane. Now, he takes steps to fulfill his love. At first, Roxane and Cyrano thwart those attempts. Roxane bribes the Capuchin, and Cyrano distracts de Guiche with his spaceman ploy. But de Guiche's decision to send the cadets to war throws the whole plot into upheaval. De Guiche himself represents another reference to The Three Musketeers: in that play, Cardinal Richelieu is the principal villain, and here, the cardinal's nephew turns into the primary antagonist"}

Roxane, The duenna, Cyrano. ROXANE: We are going to Clomire's house. (She points to the door opposite): Alcandre and Lysimon are to discourse! THE DUENNA (putting her little finger in her ear): Yes! But my little finger tells me we shall miss them. CYRANO: 'Twere a pity to miss such apes! (They have come to Clomire's door.) THE DUENNA: Oh, see! The knocker is muffled up! (Speaking to the knocker): So they have gagged that metal tongue of yours, little noisy one, lest it should disturb the fine orators! (She lifts it carefully and knocks with precaution.) ROXANE (seeing that the door opens): Let us enter! (On the threshold, to Cyrano): If Christian comes, as I feel sure he will, bid him wait for me! CYRANO (quickly, as she is going in): Listen! (She turns): What mean you to question him on, as is your wont, to-night? ROXANE: Oh-- CYRANO (eagerly): Well, say. ROXANE: But you will be mute? CYRANO: Mute as a fish. ROXANE: I shall not question him at all, but say: Give rein to your fancy! Prepare not your speeches,--but speak the thoughts as they come! Speak to me of love, and speak splendidly! CYRANO (smiling): Very good! ROXANE: But secret!. . . CYRANO: Secret. ROXANE: Not a word! (She enters and shuts the door.) CYRANO (when the door is shut, bowing to her): A thousand thanks! (The door opens again, and Roxane puts her head out.) ROXANE: Lest he prepare himself! CYRANO: The devil!--no, no! BOTH TOGETHER: Secret. (The door shuts.) CYRANO (calling): Christian!

act iii, scene xi

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section5/

The couple comes out of the house. De Guiche coldly congratulates them but orders Roxane to bid her husband farewell: the guards will go to the war after all, and they will depart immediately. De Guiche triumphantly tells Cyrano that the wedding night will have to wait. Under his breath, Cyrano remarks that the news fails to upset him. Roxane, afraid for Christian, urges Cyrano to promise to keep him safe, to keep him out of dangerous situations, to keep him dry and warm, and to keep him faithful. Cyrano says that he will do what he can but that he cannot promise anything. Roxane begs Cyrano to promise to make Christian write to her every day. Brightening, Cyrano announces confidently that he can promise that.

Act III, scenes v-xiv The balcony scene is the most famous scene in Cyrano de Bergerac. It is at once brilliantly funny and genuinely touching. The humor of the play becomes more sophisticated in Act III. In the earlier parts of the play, most of the humor stems from Cyrano's outrageous behavior. Here, the humor begins to take the form of elaborate dramatic irony. For example, Roxane believes Cyrano to be Christian, and de Guiche doesn't recognize Cyrano when he claims to have fallen from space. The comic timing in this act is flawless. Cyrano's aside about how he secretly does not mind that the wedding night will be delayed comes at just the right moment. Another important source of humor in Act III is parody: the balcony scene derives a great deal of its humor by ridiculing the famous balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. De Guiche, the play's main antagonist, begins to influence the plot directly in this act. In Act I, de Guiche was in love with Roxane. Now, he takes steps to fulfill his love. At first, Roxane and Cyrano thwart those attempts. Roxane bribes the Capuchin, and Cyrano distracts de Guiche with his spaceman ploy. But de Guiche's decision to send the cadets to war throws the whole plot into upheaval. De Guiche himself represents another reference to The Three Musketeers: in that play, Cardinal Richelieu is the principal villain, and here, the cardinal's nephew turns into the primary antagonist

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/35.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_1.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene i

act iv, scene i

{"name": "act iv, scene i", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "At the siege of Arras, the Cadets of Carbon de Castel-Jaloux languish, surrounded by the encamped Spaniards and lacking food and water. Le Bret keeps watch with Carbon early one morning, and they discuss the plight of the soldiers. They hear gunfire in the distance, and Cyrano runs in. Every morning he has been crossing enemy lines to post a daily letter to Roxane. Cyrano tells the startled guards that he promised Roxane that Christian would write her every single day. Cyrano looks at the sleeping Christian and says that Christian is dying of hunger but is still handsome", "analysis": ""}

Christian, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, Le Bret, the cadets, then Cyrano. LE BRET: 'Tis terrible. CARBON: Not a morsel left. LE BRET: Mordioux! CARBON (making a sign that he should speak lower): Curse under your breath. You will awake them. (To the cadets): Hush! Sleep on. (To Le Bret): He who sleeps, dines! LE BRET: But that is sorry comfort for the sleepless!. . . What starvation! (Firing is heard in the distance.) CARBON: Oh, plague take their firing! 'Twill wake my sons. (To the cadets, who lift up their heads): Sleep on! (Firing is again heard, nearer this time.) A CADET (moving): The devil!. . .Again. CARBON: 'Tis nothing! 'Tis Cyrano coming back! (Those who have lifted up their heads prepare to sleep again.) A SENTINEL (from without): Ventrebieu! Who goes there? THE VOICE Of CYRANO: Bergerac. The SENTINEL (who is on the redoubt): Ventrebieu! Who goes there? CYRANO (appearing at the top): Bergerac, idiot! (He comes down; Le Bret advances anxiously to meet him.) LE BRET: Heavens! CYRANO (making signs that he should not awake the others): Hush! LE BRET: Wounded? CYRANO: Oh! you know it has become their custom to shoot at me every morning and to miss me. LE BRET: This passes all! To take letters at each day's dawn. To risk. . . CYRANO (stopping before Christian): I promised he should write often. (He looks at him): He sleeps. How pale he is! But how handsome still, despite his sufferings. If his poor little lady-love knew that he is dying of hunger. . . LE BRET: Get you quick to bed. CYRANO: Nay, never scold, Le Bret. I ran but little risk. I have found me a spot to pass the Spanish lines, where each night they lie drunk. LE BRET: You should try to bring us back provision. CYRANO: A man must carry no weight who would get by there! But there will be surprise for us this night. The French will eat or die. . .if I mistake not! LE BRET: Oh!. . .tell me!. . . CYRANO: Nay, not yet. I am not certain. . .You will see! CARBON: It is disgraceful that we should starve while we're besieging! LE BRET: Alas, how full of complication is this siege of Arras! To think that while we are besieging, we should ourselves be caught in a trap and besieged by the Cardinal Infante of Spain. CYRANO: It were well done if he should be besieged in his turn. LE BRET: I am in earnest. CYRANO: Oh! indeed! LE BRET: To think you risk a life so precious. . .for the sake of a letter. . .Thankless one. (Seeing him turning to enter the tent): Where are you going? CYRANO: I am going to write another. (He enters the tent and disappears.)

act iv, scene i

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

At the siege of Arras, the Cadets of Carbon de Castel-Jaloux languish, surrounded by the encamped Spaniards and lacking food and water. Le Bret keeps watch with Carbon early one morning, and they discuss the plight of the soldiers. They hear gunfire in the distance, and Cyrano runs in. Every morning he has been crossing enemy lines to post a daily letter to Roxane. Cyrano tells the startled guards that he promised Roxane that Christian would write her every single day. Cyrano looks at the sleeping Christian and says that Christian is dying of hunger but is still handsome

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/36.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_2.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene ii

act iv, scene ii

{"name": "Act IV, scene ii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "Dawn breaks, drums sound, and Cyrano goes off to write another letter. The cadets awaken and complain about their hunger. There is talk of a mutiny, and Carbon asks Cyrano for his help", "analysis": ""}

The same, all but Cyrano. The day is breaking in a rosy light. The town of Arras is golden in the horizon. The report of cannon is heard in the distance, followed immediately by the beating of drums far away to the left. Other drums are heard much nearer. Sounds of stirring in the camp. Voices of officers in the distance. CARBON (sighing): The reveille! (The cadets move and stretch themselves): Nourishing sleep! Thou art at an end!. . .I know well what will be their first cry! A CADET (sitting up): I am so hungry! ANOTHER: I am dying of hunger. TOGETHER: Oh! CARBON: Up with you! THIRD CADET: --Cannot move a limb. FOURTH CADET: Nor can I. THE FIRST (looking at himself in a bit of armor): My tongue is yellow. The air at this season of the year is hard to digest. ANOTHER: My coronet for a bit of Chester! ANOTHER: If none can furnish to my gaster wherewith to make a pint of chyle, I shall retire to my tent--like Achilles! ANOTHER: Oh! something! were it but a crust! CARBON (going to the tent and calling softly): Cyrano! ALL THE CADETS: We are dying! CARBON (continuing to speak under his breath at the opening of the tent): Come to my aid, you, who have the art of quick retort and gay jest. Come, hearten them up. SECOND CADET (rushing toward another who is munching something): What are you crunching there? FIRST CADET: Cannon-wads soaked in axle-grease! 'Tis poor hunting round about Arras! A CADET (entering): I have been after game. ANOTHER (following him): And I after fish. ALL (rushing to the two newcomers): Well! what have you brought?--a pheasant?--a carp?--Come, show us quick! THE ANGLER: A gudgeon! THE SPORTSMAN: A sparrow! ALL TOGETHER (beside themselves): 'Tis more than can be borne! We will mutiny! CARBON: Cyrano! Come to my help. (The daylight has now come.)

Act IV, scene ii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

Dawn breaks, drums sound, and Cyrano goes off to write another letter. The cadets awaken and complain about their hunger. There is talk of a mutiny, and Carbon asks Cyrano for his help

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/37.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_3.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene ii

act iv, scene iii

{"name": "Act IV, scene iii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "Cyrano comes out and talks to the cadets, restoring morale with a clever speech and his passionate commitment to the cause. He implores a piper to play a song from Provence, and though the cadets become tearfully homesick, they do forget about their hunger. De Guiche enters, evoking a general murmur of resentment from the cadets. Cyrano tells the miserable cadets to stop moping and to look busy as de Guiche arrives", "analysis": ""}

The SAME. Cyrano. CYRANO (appearing from the tent, very calm, with a pen stuck behind his ear and a book in his hand): What is wrong? (Silence. To the first cadet): Why drag you your legs so sorrowfully? THE CADET: I have something in my heels which weighs them down. CYRANO: And what may that be? THE CADET: My stomach! CYRANO: So have I, 'faith! THE CADET: It must be in your way? CYRANO: Nay, I am all the taller. A THIRD: My stomach's hollow. CYRANO: 'Faith, 'twill make a fine drum to sound the assault. ANOTHER: I have a ringing in my ears. CYRANO: No, no, 'tis false; a hungry stomach has no ears. ANOTHER: Oh, to eat something--something oily! CYRANO (pulling off the cadet's helmet and holding it out to him): Behold your salad! ANOTHER: What, in God's name, can we devour? CYRANO (throwing him the book which he is carrying): The 'Iliad'. ANOTHER: The first minister in Paris has his four meals a day! CYRANO: 'Twere courteous an he sent you a few partridges! THE SAME: And why not? with wine, too! CYRANO: A little Burgundy. Richelieu, s'il vous plait! THE SAME: He could send it by one of his friars. CYRANO: Ay! by His Eminence Joseph himself. ANOTHER: I am as ravenous as an ogre! CYRANO: Eat your patience, then. THE FIRST CADET (shrugging his shoulders): Always your pointed word! CYRANO: Ay, pointed words! I would fain die thus, some soft summer eve, Making a pointed word for a good cause. --To make a soldier's end by soldier's sword, Wielded by some brave adversary--die On blood-stained turf, not on a fever-bed, A point upon my lips, a point within my heart. CRIES FROM ALL: I'm hungry! CYRANO (crossing his arms): All your thoughts of meat and drink! Bertrand the fifer!--you were shepherd once,-- Draw from its double leathern case your fife, Play to these greedy, guzzling soldiers. Play Old country airs with plaintive rhythm recurring, Where lurk sweet echoes of the dear home-voices, Each note of which calls like a little sister, Those airs slow, slow ascending, as the smoke-wreaths Rise from the hearthstones of our native hamlets, Their music strikes the ear like Gascon patois!. . . (The old man seats himself, and gets his flute ready): Your flute was now a warrior in durance; But on its stem your fingers are a-dancing A bird-like minuet! O flute! Remember That flutes were made of reeds first, not laburnum; Make us a music pastoral days recalling-- The soul-time of your youth, in country pastures!. . . (The old man begins to play the airs of Languedoc): Hark to the music, Gascons!. . .'Tis no longer The piercing fife of camp--but 'neath his fingers The flute of the woods! No more the call to combat, 'Tis now the love-song of the wandering goat-herds!. . . Hark!. . .'tis the valley, the wet landes, the forest, The sunburnt shepherd-boy with scarlet beret, The dusk of evening on the Dordogne river,-- 'Tis Gascony! Hark, Gascons, to the music! (The cadets sit with bowed heads; their eyes have a far-off look as if dreaming, and they surreptitiously wipe away their tears with their cuffs and the corner of their cloaks.) CARBON (to Cyrano in a whisper): But you make them weep! CYRANO: Ay, for homesickness. A nobler pain than hunger,--'tis of the soul, not of the body! I am well pleased to see their pain change its viscera. Heart-ache is better than stomach-ache. CARBON: But you weaken their courage by playing thus on their heart-strings! CYRANO (making a sign to a drummer to approach): Not I. The hero that sleeps in Gascon blood is ever ready to awake in them. 'Twould suffice. . . (He makes a signal; the drum beats.) ALL THE CADETS (stand up and rush to take arms): What? What is it? CYRANO (smiling): You see! One roll of the drum is enough! Good-by dreams, regrets, native land, love. . .All that the pipe called forth the drum has chased away! A CADET (looking toward the back of the stage): Ho! here comes Monsieur de Guiche. ALL THE CADETS (muttering): Ugh!. . .Ugh!. . . CYRANO (smiling): A flattering welcome! A CADET: We are sick to death of him! ANOTHER CADET: --With his lace collar over his armor, playing the fine gentleman! ANOTHER: As if one wore linen over steel! THE FIRST: It were good for a bandage had he boils on his neck. THE SECOND: Another plotting courtier! ANOTHER CADET: His uncle's own nephew! CARBON: For all that--a Gascon. THE FIRST: Ay, false Gascon!. . .trust him not. . . Gascons should ever be crack-brained. . . Naught more dangerous than a rational Gascon. LE BRET: How pale he is! ANOTHER: Oh! he is hungry, just like us poor devils; but under his cuirass, with its fine gilt nails, his stomach-ache glitters brave in the sun. CYRANO (hurriedly): Let us not seem to suffer either! Out with your cards, pipes, and dice. . . (All begin spreading out the games on the drums, the stools, the ground, and on their cloaks, and light long pipes): And I shall read Descartes. (He walks up and down, reading a little book which he has drawn from his pocket. Tableau. Enter De Guiche. All appear absorbed and happy. He is very pale. He goes up to Carbon.)

Act IV, scene iii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

Cyrano comes out and talks to the cadets, restoring morale with a clever speech and his passionate commitment to the cause. He implores a piper to play a song from Provence, and though the cadets become tearfully homesick, they do forget about their hunger. De Guiche enters, evoking a general murmur of resentment from the cadets. Cyrano tells the miserable cadets to stop moping and to look busy as de Guiche arrives

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/38.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_4.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene iv

act iv, scene iv

{"name": "Act IV, scene iv", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "Prompted by Cyrano, de Guiche boasts of his conduct in the previous day's battle when, to confuse the Spaniards, he flung away the white plume that marked him as an officer. Cyrano then proclaims that a courageous man would never have flung away the white plume, and he offers to wear it in the next bout of fighting. De Guiche says Cyrano makes the pledge only because he knows the plume lies somewhere on the battlefield. To the cadets' delight, Cyrano produces the plume from his pocket. Furious, de Guiche seizes the plume and waves it to a sentry, who runs toward the Spanish encampments. De Guiche says that he has just given a signal and that the Spanish will attack in perhaps an hour. He says that the cadets will all die but that, in the process, they will buy the French forces as much time as possible. Cyrano thanks de Guiche solemnly for the opportunity to die with glory. Christian tells Cyrano he wishes he could say farewell to Roxane, and Cyrano shows him the farewell letter he has just written. Christian notices the mark of a tear on the letter and nearly guesses Cyrano's secret. He is interrupted by the arrival of a mysterious coach", "analysis": ""}

The same. De Guiche. DE GUICHE (to Carbon): Good-day! (They examine each other. Aside, with satisfaction): He's green. CARBON (aside): He has nothing left but eyes. DE GUICHE (looking at the cadets): Here are the rebels! Ay, Sirs, on all sides I hear that in your ranks you scoff at me; That the Cadets, these loutish, mountain-bred, Poor country squires, and barons of Perigord, Scarce find for me--their Colonel--a disdain Sufficient! call me plotter, wily courtier! It does not please their mightiness to see A point-lace collar on my steel cuirass,-- And they enrage, because a man, in sooth, May be no ragged-robin, yet a Gascon! (Silence. All smoke and play): Shall I command your Captain punish you? No. CARBON: I am free, moreover,--will not punish-- DE GUICHE: Ah! CARBON: I have paid my company--'tis mine. I bow but to headquarters. DE GUICHE: So?--in faith! That will suffice. (Addressing himself to the cadets): I can despise your taunts 'Tis well known how I bear me in the war; At Bapaume, yesterday, they saw the rage With which I beat back the Count of Bucquoi; Assembling my own men, I fell on his, And charged three separate times! CYRANO (without lifting his eyes from his book): And your white scarf? DE GUICHE (surprised and gratified): You know that detail?. . .Troth! It happened thus: While caracoling to recall the troops For the third charge, a band of fugitives Bore me with them, close by the hostile ranks: I was in peril--capture, sudden death!-- When I thought of the good expedient To loosen and let fall the scarf which told My military rank; thus I contrived --Without attention waked--to leave the foes, And suddenly returning, reinforced With my own men, to scatter them! And now, --What say you, Sir? (The cadets pretend not to be listening, but the cards and the dice-boxes remain suspended in their hands, the smoke of their pipes in their cheeks. They wait.) CYRANO: I say, that Henri Quatre Had not, by any dangerous odds, been forced To strip himself of his white helmet plume. (Silent delight. The cards fall, the dice rattle. The smoke is puffed.) DE GUICHE: The ruse succeeded, though! (Same suspension of play, etc.) CYRANO: Oh, may be! But One does not lightly abdicate the honor To serve as target to the enemy (Cards, dice, fall again, and the cadets smoke with evident delight): Had I been present when your scarf fell low, --Our courage, Sir, is of a different sort-- I would have picked it up and put it on. DE GUICHE: Oh, ay! Another Gascon boast! CYRANO: A boast? Lend it to me. I pledge myself, to-night, --With it across my breast,--to lead th' assault. DE GUICHE: Another Gascon vaunt! You know the scarf Lies with the enemy, upon the brink Of the stream,. . .the place is riddled now with shot,-- No one can fetch it hither! CYRANO (drawing the scarf from his pocket, and holding it out to him): Here it is. (Silence. The cadets stifle their laughter in their cards and dice-boxes. De Guiche turns and looks at them; they instantly become grave, and set to play. One of them whistles indifferently the air just played by the fifer.) DE GUICHE (taking the scarf): I thank you. It will now enable me To make a signal,--that I had forborne To make--till now. (He goes to the rampart, climbs it, and waves the scarf thrice.) ALL: What's that? THE SENTINEL (from the top of the rampart): See you yon man Down there, who runs?. . . DE GUICHE (descending): 'Tis a false Spanish spy Who is extremely useful to my ends. The news he carries to the enemy Are those I prompt him with--so, in a word, We have an influence on their decisions! CYRANO: Scoundrel! DE GUICHE (carelessly knotting on his scarf): 'Tis opportune. What were we saying? Ah! I have news for you. Last evening --To victual us--the Marshal did attempt A final effort:--secretly he went To Dourlens, where the King's provisions be. But--to return to camp more easily-- He took with him a goodly force of troops. Those who attacked us now would have fine sport! Half of the army's absent from the camp! CARBON: Ay, if the Spaniards knew, 'twere ill for us, But they know nothing of it? DE GUICHE: Oh! they know. They will attack us. CARBON: Ah! DE GUICHE: For my false spy Came to warn me of their attack. He said, 'I can decide the point for their assault; Where would you have it? I will tell them 'tis The least defended--they'll attempt you there.' I answered, 'Good. Go out of camp, but watch My signal. Choose the point from whence it comes.' CARBON (to cadets): Make ready! (All rise; sounds of swords and belts being buckled.) DE GUICHE: 'Twill be in an hour. FIRST CADET: Good!. . . (They all sit down again and take up their games.) DE GUICHE (to Carbon): Time must be gained. The Marshal will return. CARBON: How gain it? DE GUICHE: You will all be good enough To let yourselves to be killed. CYRANO: Vengeance! oho! DE GUICHE: I do not say that, if I loved you well, I had chosen you and yours,--but, as things stand,-- Your courage yielding to no corps the palm-- I serve my King, and serve my grudge as well. CYRANO: Permit that I express my gratitude. . . DE GUICHE: I know you love to fight against five score; You will not now complain of paltry odds. (He goes up with Carbon.) CYRANO (to the cadets): We shall add to the Gascon coat of arms, With its six bars of blue and gold, one more-- The blood-red bar that was a-missing there! (De Guiche speaks in a low voice with Carbon at the back. Orders are given. Preparations go forward. Cyrano goes up to Christian, who stands with crossed arms.) CYRANO (putting his hand on Christian's shoulder): Christian! CHRISTIAN (shaking his head): Roxane! CYRANO: Alas! CHRISTIAN: At least, I'd send My heart's farewell to her in a fair letter!. . . CYRANO: I had suspicion it would be to-day, (He draws a letter out of his doublet): And had already writ. . . CHRISTIAN: Show! CYRANO: Will you. . .? CHRISTIAN (taking the letter): Ay! (He opens and reads it): Hold! CYRANO: What? CHRISTIAN: This little spot! CYRANO (taking the letter, with an innocent look): A spot? CHRISTIAN: A tear! CYRANO: Poets, at last,--by dint of counterfeiting-- Take counterfeit for true--that is the charm! This farewell letter,--it was passing sad, I wept myself in writing it! CHRISTIAN: Wept? why? CYRANO: Oh!. . .death itself is hardly terrible,. . . --But, ne'er to see her more! That is death's sting! --For. . .I shall never. . . (Christian looks at him): We shall. . . (Quickly): I mean, you. . . CHRISTIAN (snatching the letter from him): Give me that letter! (A rumor, far off in the camp.) VOICE Of SENTINEL: Who goes there? Halloo! (Shots--voices--carriage-bells.) CARBON: What is it? A SENTINEL (on the rampart): 'Tis a carriage! (All rush to see.) CRIES: In the camp? It enters!--It comes from the enemy! --Fire!--No!--The coachman cries!--What does he say? --'On the King's service!' (Everyone is on the rampart, staring. The bells come nearer.) DE GUICHE: The King's service? How? (All descend and draw up in line.) CARBON: Uncover, all! DE GUICHE: The King's! Draw up in line! Let him describe his curve as it befits! (The carriage enters at full speed covered with dust and mud. The curtains are drawn close. Two lackeys behind. It is pulled up suddenly.) CARBON: Beat a salute! (A roll of drums. The cadets uncover.) DE GUICHE: Lower the carriage-steps! (Two cadets rush forward. The door opens.) ROXANE (jumping down from the carriage): Good-day! (All are bowing to the ground, but at the sound of a woman's voice every head is instantly raised.)

Act IV, scene iv

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

Prompted by Cyrano, de Guiche boasts of his conduct in the previous day's battle when, to confuse the Spaniards, he flung away the white plume that marked him as an officer. Cyrano then proclaims that a courageous man would never have flung away the white plume, and he offers to wear it in the next bout of fighting. De Guiche says Cyrano makes the pledge only because he knows the plume lies somewhere on the battlefield. To the cadets' delight, Cyrano produces the plume from his pocket. Furious, de Guiche seizes the plume and waves it to a sentry, who runs toward the Spanish encampments. De Guiche says that he has just given a signal and that the Spanish will attack in perhaps an hour. He says that the cadets will all die but that, in the process, they will buy the French forces as much time as possible. Cyrano thanks de Guiche solemnly for the opportunity to die with glory. Christian tells Cyrano he wishes he could say farewell to Roxane, and Cyrano shows him the farewell letter he has just written. Christian notices the mark of a tear on the letter and nearly guesses Cyrano's secret. He is interrupted by the arrival of a mysterious coach

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/39.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_5.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene v

act iv, scene v

{"name": "Act IV, scene v", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "De Guiche thinks that the coach is from the king's service. But Roxane delightfully surprises both him and the other men when she climbs down from the coach. She says that the war was lasting too long and that she had to see Christian. Cyrano, Christian, and de Guiche tell her she must leave immediately because the Spaniards will attack soon. She refuses to leave, saying that she is brave--after all, she is Cyrano's cousin. De Guiche leaves angrily.", "analysis": "Act IV, scenes i-v The beginning of Act IV marks a severe shift in tone and sentiment. The cadets, at war, are starving. Their morale is low, and they yearn to return home. Cyrano is the only soldier in decent spirits: his daily writing to Roxane gives him a sense of purpose in the difficult time. De Guiche decides to have his sentry advise the Spanish to attack the cadets, partly in revenge for his humiliation at the hands of Cyrano, but mainly because he needs to buy time as part of a larger military maneuver. Pitted against the overwhelming Spanish force, the cadets will suffer almost certain death. The jokes in these scenes, while present, add to this shift in tone, providing a sense of unease rather than delight. For instance, while the hungry cadets sleep, Carbon evokes the proverb, \"He who sleeps dines. Le Bret agrees, but adds, \"That's not much comfort when you have insomnia. Similarly, Cyrano's observation, that Christian might be dying of hunger but still has his good looks, exemplifies a sense of humor that simultaneously creates and stifles laughter. Still, Cyrano never misses an opportunity to highlight de Guiche's hypocrisy and ignorance, and thus continues to bring a sense of vibrancy and life to the outwardly hopeless situation. The ironic exchange between Cyrano and de Guiche regarding the white plume adds to the impression that de Guiche is an inferior coward and buffoon. Cyrano accomplishes this feat through his use of irony and surprise. Intending to attack de Guiche for his cowardliness eventually, Cyrano prompts de Guiche to begin bragging about how he strategically fooled the enemy in the previous battle. After setting him up, Cyrano can now tear him down, showing not only how de Guiche threw away the symbol of courage, but how Cyrano braved the battlefield to retrieve the white plume. Indeed, the white plume begins to symbolize idealistic bravery, honor, and glory. Worn by colonels, it serves the practical purpose of signaling to a brigade the whereabouts of the troops' leader. However, it also might leave the colonel vulnerable to personal attack from the opposition. Yet, while de Guiche sees the plume as a limitation and cleverly evades the Spanish threat by casting it aside, Cyrano illustrates that the plume serves a higher purpose, adding respectability and honor to battle, so much so that Cyrano risks his own life to retrieve and honor it. Perhaps more romantic than realistic in nature, the plume and the ideals associated with it serve as a beacon for Cyrano's insurmountable, uncompromising spirit"}

The same. Roxane. DE GUICHE: On the King's service! You? ROXANE: Ay,--King Love's! What other king? CYRANO: Great God! CHRISTIAN (rushing forward): Why have you come? ROXANE: This siege--'tis too long! CHRISTIAN: But why?. . . ROXANE: I will tell you all! CYRANO (who, at the sound of her voice, has stood still, rooted to the ground, afraid to raise his eyes): My God! dare I look at her? DE GUICHE: You cannot remain here! ROXANE (merrily): But I say yes! Who will push a drum hither for me? (She seats herself on the drum they roll forward): So! I thank you. (She laughs): My carriage was fired at (proudly): by the patrol! Look! would you not think 'twas made of a pumpkin, like Cinderella's chariot in the tale,--and the footmen out of rats? (Sending a kiss with her lips to Christian): Good-morrow! (Examining them all): You look not merry, any of you! Ah! know you that 'tis a long road to get to Arras? (Seeing Cyrano): Cousin, delighted! CYRANO (coming up to her): But how, in Heaven's name?. . . ROXANE: How found I the way to the army? It was simple enough, for I had but to pass on and on, as far as I saw the country laid waste. Ah, what horrors were there! Had I not seen, then I could never have believed it! Well, gentlemen, if such be the service of your King, I would fainer serve mine! CYRANO: But 'tis sheer madness! Where in the fiend's name did you get through? ROXANE: Where? Through the Spanish lines. FIRST CADET: --For subtle craft, give me a woman! DE GUICHE: But how did you pass through their lines? LE BRET: Faith! that must have been a hard matter!. . . ROXANE: None too hard. I but drove quietly forward in my carriage, and when some hidalgo of haughty mien would have stayed me, lo! I showed at the window my sweetest smile, and these Senors being (with no disrespect to you) the most gallant gentlemen in the world,--I passed on! CARBON: True, that smile is a passport! But you must have been asked frequently to give an account of where you were going, Madame? ROXANE: Yes, frequently. Then I would answer, 'I go to see my lover.' At that word the very fiercest Spaniard of them all would gravely shut the carriage-door, and, with a gesture that a king might envy, make signal to his men to lower the muskets leveled at me;--then, with melancholy but withal very graceful dignity--his beaver held to the wind that the plumes might flutter bravely, he would bow low, saying to me, 'Pass on, Senorita!' CHRISTIAN: But, Roxane. . . ROXANE: Forgive me that I said, 'my lover!' But bethink you, had I said 'my husband,' not one of them had let me pass! CHRISTIAN: But. . . ROXANE: What ails you? DE GUICHE: You must leave this place! ROXANE: I? CYRANO: And that instantly! LE BRET: No time to lose. CHRISTIAN: Indeed, you must. ROXANE: But wherefore must I? CHRISTIAN (embarrassed): 'Tis that. . . CYRANO (the same): --In three quarters of an hour. . . DE GUICHE (the same): --Or for. . . CARBON (the same): It were best. . . LE BRET (the same): You might. . . ROXANE: You are going to fight?--I stay here. ALL: No, no! ROXANE: He is my husband! (She throws herself into Christian's arms): They shall kill us both together! CHRISTIAN: Why do you look at me thus? ROXANE: I will tell you why! DE GUICHE (in despair): 'Tis a post of mortal danger! ROXANE (turning round): Mortal danger! CYRANO: Proof enough, that he has put us here! ROXANE (to De Guiche): So, Sir, you would have made a widow of me? DE GUICHE: Nay, on my oath. . . ROXANE: I will not go! I am reckless now, and I shall not stir from here!--Besides, 'tis amusing! CYRANO: Oh-ho! So our precieuse is a heroine! ROXANE: Monsieur de Bergerac, I am your cousin. A CADET: We will defend you well! ROXANE (more and more excited): I have no fear of that, my friends! ANOTHER (in ecstasy): The whole camp smells sweet of orris-root! ROXANE: And, by good luck, I have chosen a hat that will suit well with the battlefield! (Looking at De Guiche): But were it not wisest that the Count retire? They may begin the attack. DE GUICHE: That is not to be brooked! I go to inspect the cannon, and shall return. You have still time--think better of it! ROXANE: Never! (De Guiche goes out.)

Act IV, scene v

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

De Guiche thinks that the coach is from the king's service. But Roxane delightfully surprises both him and the other men when she climbs down from the coach. She says that the war was lasting too long and that she had to see Christian. Cyrano, Christian, and de Guiche tell her she must leave immediately because the Spaniards will attack soon. She refuses to leave, saying that she is brave--after all, she is Cyrano's cousin. De Guiche leaves angrily.

Act IV, scenes i-v The beginning of Act IV marks a severe shift in tone and sentiment. The cadets, at war, are starving. Their morale is low, and they yearn to return home. Cyrano is the only soldier in decent spirits: his daily writing to Roxane gives him a sense of purpose in the difficult time. De Guiche decides to have his sentry advise the Spanish to attack the cadets, partly in revenge for his humiliation at the hands of Cyrano, but mainly because he needs to buy time as part of a larger military maneuver. Pitted against the overwhelming Spanish force, the cadets will suffer almost certain death. The jokes in these scenes, while present, add to this shift in tone, providing a sense of unease rather than delight. For instance, while the hungry cadets sleep, Carbon evokes the proverb, "He who sleeps dines. Le Bret agrees, but adds, "That's not much comfort when you have insomnia. Similarly, Cyrano's observation, that Christian might be dying of hunger but still has his good looks, exemplifies a sense of humor that simultaneously creates and stifles laughter. Still, Cyrano never misses an opportunity to highlight de Guiche's hypocrisy and ignorance, and thus continues to bring a sense of vibrancy and life to the outwardly hopeless situation. The ironic exchange between Cyrano and de Guiche regarding the white plume adds to the impression that de Guiche is an inferior coward and buffoon. Cyrano accomplishes this feat through his use of irony and surprise. Intending to attack de Guiche for his cowardliness eventually, Cyrano prompts de Guiche to begin bragging about how he strategically fooled the enemy in the previous battle. After setting him up, Cyrano can now tear him down, showing not only how de Guiche threw away the symbol of courage, but how Cyrano braved the battlefield to retrieve the white plume. Indeed, the white plume begins to symbolize idealistic bravery, honor, and glory. Worn by colonels, it serves the practical purpose of signaling to a brigade the whereabouts of the troops' leader. However, it also might leave the colonel vulnerable to personal attack from the opposition. Yet, while de Guiche sees the plume as a limitation and cleverly evades the Spanish threat by casting it aside, Cyrano illustrates that the plume serves a higher purpose, adding respectability and honor to battle, so much so that Cyrano risks his own life to retrieve and honor it. Perhaps more romantic than realistic in nature, the plume and the ideals associated with it serve as a beacon for Cyrano's insurmountable, uncompromising spirit

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/40.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_6.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene vi

act iv, scene vi

{"name": "Act IV, scene vi", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "Carbon presents the company to Roxane, and, to their surprise and delight, she produces Ragueneau--and the feast that he has prepared for the cadets--from the coach. The men gorge themselves, but when de Guiche reappears, they hide the food", "analysis": ""}

The same, all but De Guiche. CHRISTIAN (entreatingly): Roxane! ROXANE: No! FIRST CADET (to the others): She stays! ALL (hurrying, hustling each other, tidying themselves): A comb!--Soap!--My uniform is torn!--A needle!--A ribbon!--Lend your mirror!--My cuffs!--Your curling-iron!--A razor!. . . ROXANE (to Cyrano, who still pleads with her): No! Naught shall make me stir from this spot! CARBON (who, like the others, has been buckling, dusting, brushing his hat, settling his plume, and drawing on his cuffs, advances to Roxane, and ceremoniously): It is perchance more seemly, since things are thus, that I present to you some of these gentlemen who are about to have the honor of dying before your eyes. (Roxane bows, and stands leaning on Christian's arm, while Carbon introduces the cadets to her): Baron de Peyrescous de Colignac! THE CADET (with a low reverence): Madame. . . CARBON (continuing): Baron de Casterac de Cahuzac,--Vidame de Malgouyre Estressac Lesbas d'Escarabiot, Chevalier d'Antignac-Juzet, Baron Hillot de Blagnac-Salechan de Castel Crabioules. . . ROXANE: But how many names have you each? BARON HILLOT: Scores! CARBON (to Roxane): Pray, upon the hand that holds your kerchief. ROXANE (opens her hand, and the handkerchief falls): Why? (The whole company start forward to pick it up.) CARBON (quickly raising it): My company had no flag. But now, by my faith, they will have the fairest in all the camp! ROXANE (smiling): 'Tis somewhat small. CARBON (tying the handkerchief on the staff of his lance): But--'tis of lace! A CADET (to the rest): I could die happy, having seen so sweet a face, if I had something in my stomach--were it but a nut! CARBON (who has overheard, indignantly): Shame on you! What, talk of eating when a lovely woman!. . . ROXANE: But your camp air is keen; I myself am famished. Pasties, cold fricassee, old wines--there is my bill of fare? Pray bring it all here. (Consternation.) A CADET: All that? ANOTHER: But where on earth find it? ROXANE (quietly): In my carriage. ALL: How? ROXANE: Now serve up--carve! Look a little closer at my coachman, gentlemen, and you will recognize a man most welcome. All the sauces can be sent to table hot, if we will! THE CADETS (rushing pellmell to the carriage): 'Tis Ragueneau! (Acclamations): Oh, oh! ROXANE (looking after them): Poor fellows! CYRANO (kissing her hand): Kind fairy! RAGUENEAU (standing on the box like a quack doctor at a fair): Gentlemen!. . . (General delight.) THE CADETS: Bravo! bravo! RAGUENEAU: . . .The Spaniards, gazing on a lady so dainty fair, overlooked the fare so dainty!. . . (Applause.) CYRANO (in a whisper to Christian): Hark, Christian! RAGUENEAU: . . .And, occupied with gallantry, perceived not-- (His draws a plate from under the seat, and holds it up): --The galantine!. . . (Applause. The galantine passes from hand to hand.) CYRANO (still whispering to Christian): Prythee, one word! RAGUENEAU: And Venus so attracted their eyes that Diana could secretly pass by with-- (He holds up a shoulder of mutton): --her fawn! (Enthusiasm. Twenty hands are held out to seize the shoulder of mutton.) CYRANO (in a low whisper to Christian): I must speak to you! ROXANE (to the cadets, who come down, their arms laden with food): Put it all on the ground! (She lays all out on the grass, aided by the two imperturbable lackeys who were behind the carriage.) ROXANE (to Christian, just as Cyrano is drawing him apart): Come, make yourself of use! (Christian comes to help her. Cyrano's uneasiness increases.) RAGUENEAU: Truffled peacock! FIRST CADET (radiant, coming down, cutting a big slice of ham): By the mass! We shall not brave the last hazard without having had a gullet-full!-- (quickly correcting himself on seeing Roxane): --Pardon! A Balthazar feast! RAGUENEAU (throwing down the carriage cushions): The cushions are stuffed with ortolans! (Hubbub. They tear open and turn out the contents of the cushions. Bursts of laughter--merriment.) THIRD CADET: Ah! Viedaze! RAGUENEAU (throwing down to the cadets bottles of red wine): Flasks of rubies!-- (and white wine): --Flasks of topaz! ROXANE (throwing a folded tablecloth at Cyrano's head): Unfold me that napkin!--Come, come! be nimble! RAGUENEAU (waving a lantern): Each of the carriage-lamps is a little larder! CYRANO (in a low voice to Christian, as they arrange the cloth together): I must speak with you ere you speak to her. RAGUENEAU: My whip-handle is an Arles sausage! ROXANE (pouring out wine, helping): Since we are to die, let the rest of the army shift for itself. All for the Gascons! And mark! if De Guiche comes, let no one invite him! (Going from one to the other): There! there! You have time enough! Do not eat too fast!--Drink a little.- -Why are you crying? FIRST CADET: It is all so good!. . . ROXANE: Tut!--Red or white?--Some bread for Monsieur de Carbon!--a knife! Pass your plate!--a little of the crust? Some more? Let me help you!--Some champagne?- -A wing? CYRANO (who follows her, his arms laden with dishes, helping her to wait on everybody): How I worship her! ROXANE (going up to Christian): What will you? CHRISTIAN: Nothing. ROXANE: Nay, nay, take this biscuit, steeped in muscat; come!. . .but two drops! CHRISTIAN (trying to detain her): Oh! tell me why you came? ROXANE: Wait; my first duty is to these poor fellows.--Hush! In a few minutes. . . LE BRET (who had gone up to pass a loaf on the end of a lance to the sentry on the rampart): De Guiche! CYRANO: Quick! hide flasks, plates, pie-dishes, game-baskets! Hurry!--Let us all look unconscious! (To Ragueneau): Up on your seat!--Is everything covered up? (In an instant all has been pushed into the tents, or hidden under doublets, cloaks, and beavers. De Guiche enters hurriedly--stops suddenly, sniffing the air. Silence.)

Act IV, scene vi

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

Carbon presents the company to Roxane, and, to their surprise and delight, she produces Ragueneau--and the feast that he has prepared for the cadets--from the coach. The men gorge themselves, but when de Guiche reappears, they hide the food

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/41.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_7.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene vii

act iv, scene vii

{"name": "Act IV, scene vii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "De Guiche announces that if Roxane stays for the battle, he will stay to fight as well. The men decide that he must be a Gascon after all, and they offer him some food. He refuses, and they are even more impressed. Cyrano tells Christian that he has written Roxane more often than Christian thought--in fact, every day. Christian again suspects Cyrano's secret, but Roxane interrupts", "analysis": ""}

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.)

Act IV, scene vii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

De Guiche announces that if Roxane stays for the battle, he will stay to fight as well. The men decide that he must be a Gascon after all, and they offer him some food. He refuses, and they are even more impressed. Cyrano tells Christian that he has written Roxane more often than Christian thought--in fact, every day. Christian again suspects Cyrano's secret, but Roxane interrupts

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/42.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_8.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene viii

act iv, scene viii

{"name": "Act IV, scene viii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "Christian asks why Roxane risked death to see him again, and she says that she was driven mad by his beautiful love letters. She says that, at first, she loved only his beauty, but now she has forgotten about his beauty and loves his inner self, the soul she felt in the letters. When Roxane says she would love him even if he were ugly, Christian is miserable. He sends her to go speak to the cadets and to smile at them because they are about to die", "analysis": ""}

Roxane, Christian. In the distance cadets coming and going. Carbon and De Guiche give orders. ROXANE (running up to Christian): Ah, Christian, at last!. . . CHRISTIAN (taking her hands): Now tell me why-- Why, by these fearful paths so perilous-- Across these ranks of ribald soldiery, You have come? ROXANE: Love, your letters brought me here! CHRISTIAN: What say you? ROXANE: 'Tis your fault if I ran risks! Your letters turned my head! Ah! all this month, How many!--and the last one ever bettered The one that went before! CHRISTIAN: What!--for a few Inconsequent love-letters! ROXANE: Hold your peace! Ah! you cannot conceive it! Ever since That night, when, in a voice all new to me, Under my window you revealed your soul-- Ah! ever since I have adored you! Now Your letters all this whole month long!--meseemed As if I heard that voice so tender, true, Sheltering, close! Thy fault, I say! It drew me, The voice o' th' night! Oh! wise Penelope Would ne'er have stayed to broider on her hearthstone, If her Ulysses could have writ such letters! But would have cast away her silken bobbins, And fled to join him, mad for love as Helen! CHRISTIAN: But. . . ROXANE: I read, read again--grew faint for love; I was thine utterly. Each separate page Was like a fluttering flower-petal, loosed From your own soul, and wafted thus to mine. Imprinted in each burning word was love Sincere, all-powerful. . . CHRISTIAN: A love sincere! Can that be felt, Roxane! ROXANE: Ay, that it can! CHRISTIAN: You come. . .? ROXANE: O, Christian, my true lord, I come-- (Were I to throw myself, here, at your knees, You would raise me--but 'tis my soul I lay At your feet--you can raise it nevermore!) --I come to crave your pardon. (Ay, 'tis time To sue for pardon, now that death may come!) For the insult done to you when, frivolous, At first I loved you only for your face! CHRISTIAN (horror-stricken): Roxane! ROXANE: And later, love--less frivolous-- Like a bird that spreads its wings, but can not fly-- Arrested by your beauty, by your soul Drawn close--I loved for both at once! CHRISTIAN: And now? ROXANE: Ah! you yourself have triumphed o'er yourself, And now, I love you only for your soul! CHRISTIAN (stepping backward): Roxane! ROXANE: Be happy. To be loved for beauty-- A poor disguise that time so soon wears threadbare-- Must be to noble souls--to souls aspiring-- A torture. Your dear thoughts have now effaced That beauty that so won me at the outset. Now I see clearer--and I no more see it! CHRISTIAN: Oh!. . . ROXANE: You are doubtful of such victory? CHRISTIAN (pained): Roxane! ROXANE: I see you cannot yet believe it. Such love. . .? CHRISTIAN: I do not ask such love as that! I would be loved more simply; for. . . ROXANE: For that Which they have all in turns loved in thee?-- Shame! Oh! be loved henceforth in a better way! CHRISTIAN: No! the first love was best! ROXANE: Ah! how you err! 'Tis now that I love best--love well! 'Tis that Which is thy true self, see!--that I adore! Were your brilliance dimmed. . . CHRISTIAN: Hush! ROXANE: I should love still! Ay, if your beauty should to-day depart. . . CHRISTIAN: Say not so! ROXANE: Ay, I say it! CHRISTIAN: Ugly? How? ROXANE: Ugly! I swear I'd love you still! CHRISTIAN: My God! ROXANE: Are you content at last? CHRISTIAN (in a choked voice): Ay!. . . ROXANE: What is wrong? CHRISTIAN (gently pushing her away): Nothing. . .I have two words to say:--one second. . . ROXANE: But?. . . CHRISTIAN (pointing to the cadets): Those poor fellows, shortly doomed to death,-- My love deprives them of the sight of you: Go,--speak to them--smile on them ere they die! ROXANE (deeply affected): Dear Christian!. . . (She goes up to the cadets, who respectfully crowd round her.)

Act IV, scene viii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

Christian asks why Roxane risked death to see him again, and she says that she was driven mad by his beautiful love letters. She says that, at first, she loved only his beauty, but now she has forgotten about his beauty and loves his inner self, the soul she felt in the letters. When Roxane says she would love him even if he were ugly, Christian is miserable. He sends her to go speak to the cadets and to smile at them because they are about to die

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/43.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_9.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene ix

act iv, scene ix

{"name": "Act IV, scene ix", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "Christian tells Cyrano that Roxane is no longer in love with him. Instead, he says, she loves his \"soul\" and that means she loves Cyrano. He accuses Cyrano of secretly returning her love. Cyrano cannot deny it. Christian says that Cyrano must tell Roxane and ask her to choose between them. Christian calls Roxane and runs off toward the other men. Cyrano asks Roxane if she could really love Christian if he were ugly. She says that she could. Cyrano feels ecstatic and is on the cusp of revealing his secret when suddenly they hear gunfire. Le Bret cries out for Cyrano. He whispers something in Cyrano's ear, and Cyrano says that now he can never tell Roxane his feelings. A group of men comes into the camp, carrying something. Soon, we see it is Christian's body. He is dying", "analysis": ""}

Christian, Cyrano. At back Roxane talking to Carbon and some cadets. CHRISTIAN (calling toward Cyrano's tent): Cyrano! CYRANO (reappearing, fully armed): What? Why so pale? CHRISTIAN: She does not love me! CYRANO: What? CHRISTIAN: 'Tis you she loves! CYRANO: No! CHRISTIAN: --For she loves me only for my soul! CYRANO: Truly? CHRISTIAN: Yes! Thus--you see, that soul is you,. . . Therefore, 'tis you she loves!--And you--love her! CYRANO: I? CHRISTIAN: Oh, I know it! CYRANO: Ay, 'tis true! CHRISTIAN: You love To madness! CYRANO: Ay! and worse! CHRISTIAN: Then tell her so! CYRANO: No! CHRISTIAN: And why not? CYRANO: Look at my face!--be answered! CHRISTIAN: She'd love me--were I ugly. CYRANO: Said she so? CHRISTIAN: Ay! in those words! CYRANO: I'm glad she told you that! But pooh!--believe it not! I am well pleased She thought to tell you. Take it not for truth. Never grow ugly:--she'd reproach me then! CHRISTIAN: That I intend discovering! CYRANO: No! I beg! CHRISTIAN: Ay! she shall choose between us!--Tell her all! CYRANO: No! no! I will not have it! Spare me this! CHRISTIAN: Because my face is haply fair, shall I Destroy your happiness? 'Twere too unjust! CYRANO: And I,--because by Nature's freak I have The gift to say--all that perchance you feel. Shall I be fatal to your happiness? CHRISTIAN: Tell all! CYRANO: It is ill done to tempt me thus! CHRISTIAN: Too long I've borne about within myself A rival to myself--I'll make an end! CYRANO: Christian! CHRISTIAN: Our union, without witness--secret-- Clandestine--can be easily dissolved If we survive. CYRANO: My God!--he still persists! CHRISTIAN: I will be loved myself--or not at all! --I'll go see what they do--there, at the end Of the post: speak to her, and then let her choose One of us two! CYRANO: It will be you. CHRISTIAN: Pray God! (He calls): Roxane! CYRANO: No! no! ROXANE (coming up quickly): What? CHRISTIAN: Cyrano has things Important for your ear. . . (She hastens to Cyrano. Christian goes out.)

Act IV, scene ix

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

Christian tells Cyrano that Roxane is no longer in love with him. Instead, he says, she loves his "soul" and that means she loves Cyrano. He accuses Cyrano of secretly returning her love. Cyrano cannot deny it. Christian says that Cyrano must tell Roxane and ask her to choose between them. Christian calls Roxane and runs off toward the other men. Cyrano asks Roxane if she could really love Christian if he were ugly. She says that she could. Cyrano feels ecstatic and is on the cusp of revealing his secret when suddenly they hear gunfire. Le Bret cries out for Cyrano. He whispers something in Cyrano's ear, and Cyrano says that now he can never tell Roxane his feelings. A group of men comes into the camp, carrying something. Soon, we see it is Christian's body. He is dying

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/44.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_5_part_10.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act iv.scene x

act iv, scene x

{"name": "Act IV, scene x", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/", "summary": "The men run off to fight, and Roxane collapses over Christian's body. Cyrano leans down and whispers into Christian's ear that he told Roxane the secret, and that she chose Christian. The battle breaks out all around them and Christian closes his eyes, dead. Next to Christian's heart, Roxane finds the farewell letter that Cyrano wrote for Christian to give her. She faints with grief, and Cyrano sends Ragueneau and de Guiche to take her away and protect her. Carbon emerges from the fighting, twice wounded. But the army has returned, and the men will win if they can hold out only a little longer. Cyrano tells Carbon not to worry. Now, he says, he has two deaths to avenge: Christian's and his own. Cyrano charges into battle. When he hears a Spaniard ask, \"Who are these men who are so eager for death. he begins to sing the song of the Cadets of Gascoyne. Cyrano charges off into a hail of bullets, singing as he fights.", "analysis": "Act IV, scenes vi-x The theme of inner versus outer beauty escalates and comes to a climax during the battle scene. Even as Roxane reveals that she values inner beauty more than physical attractiveness, Cyrano has been forging letters to her. His actions call into question his own integrity and open up the possibility that ultimately, he has calculated to win Roxane himself. Cyrano's character appears tarnished at the very moment his words move Roxane to honor inner goodness. Her announcement completes the dissection and destruction of the romantic hero that Cyrano and Christian together created. Playing different halves of the hero, both Cyrano and Christian have proven to be inadequate. Because Cyrano cannot take credit for winning Roxane's love without revealing his duplicity, the play's triumphant moment belongs to love and to poetry, not to Cyrano. The irony of this scene is staggering. Roxane travels far and takes great risks to tell Christian her wonderful news, and it turns out to be the worst news that Christian, and even Cyrano, could possibly hear. Still, Cyrano commits another act of tremendous chivalry when he consoles Christian--and tells him that Roxane picked Christian--just before he dies. Christian dies an honorable and happy death, as a good soldier and a fulfilled lover. Cyrano would rather spend the rest of his life apart from the woman he loves than dishonor the memory of his friend. Moreover, Christian's death symbolizes the death of the superficial half of the romantic hero. By denouncing the value of outer beauty, Roxane renders Christian an unimportant and useless part of the composite romantic hero. Though she doesn't know it, Roxane loves the other half, the soul of the hero, played by Cyrano. Christian quickly dies and disappears from the play. Yet his death also prevents Cyrano from telling Roxane the truth and perhaps from making a moral mistake--dishonestly winning her love. The war parallels the emotional war between the main characters. The climax of the play occurs on the battlefield when Christian, Cyrano, and Roxane interact with startling dialogue and emotion. The tension between Christian and Cyrano eases, dissolving the fused romantic hero they had attempted to become. As Cyrano's duplicity intensifies, de Guiche begins to redeem himself. He turns out to be a Gascon under all his Parisian trappings. One of the soldiers reveals that de Guiche has a Gascon accent. Because the main conflict in Cyrano de Bergerac lies within Cyrano, Rostand transforms his rather superficial villain into a newly minted hero without sacrificing the play's dramatic drive"}

Roxane, Cyrano. Then Le Bret, Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, the cadets, Ragueneau, De Guiche, etc. ROXANE: Important, how? CYRANO (in despair. to Roxane): He's gone! 'Tis naught!--Oh, you know how he sees Importance in a trifle! ROXANE (warmly): Did he doubt Of what I said?--Ah, yes, I saw he doubted! CYRANO (taking her hand): But are you sure you told him all the truth? ROXANE: Yes, I would love him were he. . . (She hesitates.) CYRANO: Does that word Embarrass you before my face, Roxane? ROXANE: I. . . CYRANO (smiling sadly): 'Twill not hurt me! Say it! If he were Ugly!. . . ROXANE: Yes, ugly! (Musket report outside): Hark! I hear a shot! CYRANO (ardently): Hideous! ROXANE: Hideous! yes! CYRANO: Disfigured. ROXANE: Ay! CYRANO: Grotesque? ROXANE: He could not be grotesque to me! CYRANO: You'd love the same?. . . ROXANE: The same--nay, even more! CYRANO (losing command over himself--aside): My God! it's true, perchance, love waits me there! (To Roxane): I. . .Roxane. . .listen. . . LE BRET (entering hurriedly--to Cyrano): Cyrano! CYRANO (turning round): What? LE BRET: Hush! (He whispers something to him.) CYRANO (letting go Roxane's hand and exclaiming): Ah, God! ROXANE: What is it? CYRANO (to himself--stunned): All is over now. (Renewed reports.) ROXANE: What is the matter? Hark! another shot! (She goes up to look outside.) CYRANO: It is too late, now I can never tell! ROXANE (trying to rush out): What has chanced? CYRANO (rushing to stop her): Nothing! (Some cadets enter, trying to hide something they are carrying, and close round it to prevent Roxane approaching.) ROXANE: And those men? (Cyrano draws her away): What were you just about to say before. . .? CYRANO: What was I saying? Nothing now, I swear! (Solemnly): I swear that Christian's soul, his nature, were. . . (Hastily correcting himself): Nay, that they are, the noblest, greatest. . . ROXANE: Were? (With a loud scream): Oh! (She rushes up, pushing every one aside.) CYRANO: All is over now! ROXANE (seeing Christian lying on the ground, wrapped in his cloak): O Christian! LE BRET (to Cyrano): Struck by first shot of the enemy! (Roxane flings herself down by Christian. Fresh reports of cannon--clash of arms--clamor--beating of drums.) CARBON (with sword in the air): O come! Your muskets. (Followed by the cadets, he passes to the other side of the ramparts.) ROXANE: Christian! THE VOICE OF CARBON (from the other side): Ho! make haste! ROXANE: Christian! CARBON: FORM LINE! ROXANE: Christian! CARBON: HANDLE YOUR MATCH! (Ragueneau rushes up, bringing water in a helmet.) CHRISTIAN (in a dying voice): Roxane! CYRANO (quickly, whispering into Christian's ear, while Roxane distractedly tears a piece of linen from his breast, which she dips into the water, trying to stanch the bleeding): I told her all. She loves you still. (Christian closes his eyes.) ROXANE: How, my sweet love? CARBON: DRAW RAMRODS! ROXANE (to Cyrano): He is not dead? CARBON: OPEN YOUR CHARGES WITH YOUR TEETH! ROXANE: His cheek Grows cold against my own! CARBON: READY! PRESENT! ROXANE (seeing a letter in Christian's doublet): A letter!. . . 'Tis for me! (She opens it.) CYRANO (aside): My letter! CARBON: FIRE! (Musket reports--shouts--noise of battle.) CYRANO (trying to disengage his hand, which Roxane on her knees is holding): But, Roxane, hark, they fight! ROXANE (detaining him): Stay yet awhile. For he is dead. You knew him, you alone. (Weeping quietly): Ah, was not his a beauteous soul, a soul Wondrous! CYRANO (standing up--bareheaded): Ay, Roxane. ROXANE: An inspired poet? CYRANO: Ay, Roxane. ROXANE: And a mind sublime? CYRANO: Oh, yes! ROXANE: A heart too deep for common minds to plumb, A spirit subtle, charming? CYRANO (firmly): Ay, Roxane. ROXANE (flinging herself on the dead body): Dead, my love! CYRANO (aside--drawing his sword): Ay, and let me die to-day, Since, all unconscious, she mourns me--in him! (Sounds of trumpets in the distance.) DE GUICHE (appearing on the ramparts--bareheaded--with a wound on his forehead--in a voice of thunder): It is the signal! Trumpet flourishes! The French bring the provisions into camp! Hold but the place awhile! ROXANE: See, there is blood Upon the letter--tears! A VOICE (outside--shouting): Surrender! VOICE OF CADETS: No! RAGUENEAU (standing on the top of his carriage, watches the battle over the edge of the ramparts): The danger's ever greater! CYRANO (to De Guiche--pointing to Roxane): I will charge! Take her away! ROXANE (kissing the letter--in a half-extinguished voice): O God! his tears! his blood!. . . RAGUENEAU (jumping down from the carriage and rushing toward her): She's swooned away! DE GUICHE (on the rampart--to the cadets--with fury): Stand fast! A VOICE (outside): Lay down your arms! THE CADETS: No! CYRANO (to De Guiche): Now that you have proved your valor, Sir, (Pointing to Roxane): Fly, and save her! DE GUICHE (rushing to Roxane, and carrying her away in his arms): So be it! Gain but time, The victory's ours! CYRANO: Good. (Calling out to Roxane, whom De Guiche, aided by Ragueneau, is bearing away in a fainting condition): Farewell, Roxane! (Tumult. Shouts. Cadets reappear, wounded, falling on the scene. Cyrano, rushing to the battle, is stopped by Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, who is streaming with blood.) CARBON: We are breaking! I am wounded--wounded twice! CYRANO (shouting to the Gascons): GASCONS! HO, GASCONS! NEVER TURN YOUR BACKS! (To Carbon, whom he is supporting): Have no fear! I have two deaths to avenge: My friend who's slain;--and my dead happiness! (They come down, Cyrano brandishing the lance to which is attached Roxane's handkerchief): Float there! laced kerchief broidered with her name! (He sticks it in the ground and shouts to the cadets): FALL ON THEM, GASCONS! CRUSH THEM! (To the fifer): Fifer, play! (The fife plays. The wounded try to rise. Some cadets, falling one over the other down the slope, group themselves round Cyrano and the little flag. The carriage is crowded with men inside and outside, and, bristling with arquebuses, is turned into a fortress.) A CADET (appearing on the crest, beaten backward, but still fighting, cries): They're climbing the redoubt! (and falls dead.) CYRANO: Let us salute them! (The rampart is covered instantly by a formidable row of enemies. The standards of the Imperialists are raised): Fire! (General discharge.) A CRY IN THE ENEMY'S RANKS: Fire! (A deadly answering volley. The cadets fall on all sides.) A SPANISH OFFICER (uncovering): Who are these men who rush on death? CYRANO (reciting, erect, amid a storm of bullets): The bold Cadets of Gascony, Of Carbon of Castel-Jaloux! Brawling, swaggering boastfully, (He rushes forward, followed by a few survivors): The bold Cadets. . . (His voice is drowned in the battle.) Curtain.

Act IV, scene x

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section6/

The men run off to fight, and Roxane collapses over Christian's body. Cyrano leans down and whispers into Christian's ear that he told Roxane the secret, and that she chose Christian. The battle breaks out all around them and Christian closes his eyes, dead. Next to Christian's heart, Roxane finds the farewell letter that Cyrano wrote for Christian to give her. She faints with grief, and Cyrano sends Ragueneau and de Guiche to take her away and protect her. Carbon emerges from the fighting, twice wounded. But the army has returned, and the men will win if they can hold out only a little longer. Cyrano tells Carbon not to worry. Now, he says, he has two deaths to avenge: Christian's and his own. Cyrano charges into battle. When he hears a Spaniard ask, "Who are these men who are so eager for death. he begins to sing the song of the Cadets of Gascoyne. Cyrano charges off into a hail of bullets, singing as he fights.

Act IV, scenes vi-x The theme of inner versus outer beauty escalates and comes to a climax during the battle scene. Even as Roxane reveals that she values inner beauty more than physical attractiveness, Cyrano has been forging letters to her. His actions call into question his own integrity and open up the possibility that ultimately, he has calculated to win Roxane himself. Cyrano's character appears tarnished at the very moment his words move Roxane to honor inner goodness. Her announcement completes the dissection and destruction of the romantic hero that Cyrano and Christian together created. Playing different halves of the hero, both Cyrano and Christian have proven to be inadequate. Because Cyrano cannot take credit for winning Roxane's love without revealing his duplicity, the play's triumphant moment belongs to love and to poetry, not to Cyrano. The irony of this scene is staggering. Roxane travels far and takes great risks to tell Christian her wonderful news, and it turns out to be the worst news that Christian, and even Cyrano, could possibly hear. Still, Cyrano commits another act of tremendous chivalry when he consoles Christian--and tells him that Roxane picked Christian--just before he dies. Christian dies an honorable and happy death, as a good soldier and a fulfilled lover. Cyrano would rather spend the rest of his life apart from the woman he loves than dishonor the memory of his friend. Moreover, Christian's death symbolizes the death of the superficial half of the romantic hero. By denouncing the value of outer beauty, Roxane renders Christian an unimportant and useless part of the composite romantic hero. Though she doesn't know it, Roxane loves the other half, the soul of the hero, played by Cyrano. Christian quickly dies and disappears from the play. Yet his death also prevents Cyrano from telling Roxane the truth and perhaps from making a moral mistake--dishonestly winning her love. The war parallels the emotional war between the main characters. The climax of the play occurs on the battlefield when Christian, Cyrano, and Roxane interact with startling dialogue and emotion. The tension between Christian and Cyrano eases, dissolving the fused romantic hero they had attempted to become. As Cyrano's duplicity intensifies, de Guiche begins to redeem himself. He turns out to be a Gascon under all his Parisian trappings. One of the soldiers reveals that de Guiche has a Gascon accent. Because the main conflict in Cyrano de Bergerac lies within Cyrano, Rostand transforms his rather superficial villain into a newly minted hero without sacrificing the play's dramatic drive

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/46.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_6_part_1.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act v.scene i

act v, scene i

{"name": "act v, scene i", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/", "summary": "Fifteen years later, in 1655, the nuns of the Convent of the Ladies of the Cross in Paris talk about Cyrano. They say he makes them laugh, and they remark how he has come every week for more than ten years to visit his cousin Roxane, who first came to live in the convent after the death of her husband", "analysis": ""}

Mother Marguerite, Sister Martha, Sister Claire, other sisters. SISTER MARTHA (to Mother Marguerite): Sister Claire glanced in the mirror, once--nay, twice, to see if her coif suited. MOTHER MARGUERITE (to Sister Claire): 'Tis not well. SISTER CLAIRE: But I saw Sister Martha take a plum Out of the tart. MOTHER MARGUERITE (to Sister Martha): That was ill done, my sister. SISTER CLAIRE: A little glance! SISTER MARTHA: And such a little plum! MOTHER MARGUERITE: I shall tell this to Monsieur Cyrano. SISTER CLAIRE: Nay, prithee do not!--he will mock! SISTER MARTHA: He'll say we nuns are vain! SISTER CLAIRE: And greedy! MOTHER MARGUERITE (smiling): Ay, and kind! SISTER CLAIRE: Is it not true, pray, Mother Marguerite, That he has come, each week, on Saturday For ten years, to the convent? MOTHER MARGUERITE: Ay! and more! Ever since--fourteen years ago--the day His cousin brought here, 'midst our woolen coifs, The worldly mourning of her widow's veil, Like a blackbird's wing among the convent doves! SISTER MARTHA: He only has the skill to turn her mind From grief--unsoftened yet by Time--unhealed! ALL THE SISTERS: He is so droll!--It's cheerful when he comes!-- He teases us!--But we all like him well!-- --We make him pasties of angelica! SISTER MARTHA: But, he is not a faithful Catholic! SISTER CLAIRE: We will convert him! THE SISTERS: Yes! Yes! MOTHER MARGUERITE: I forbid, My daughters, you attempt that subject. Nay, Weary him not--he might less oft come here! SISTER MARTHA: But. . .God. . . MOTHER MARGUERITE: Nay, never fear! God knows him well! SISTER MARTHA: But--every Saturday, when he arrives, He tells me, 'Sister, I eat meat on Friday!' MOTHER MARGUERITE: Ah! says he so? Well, the last time he came Food had not passed his lips for two whole days! SISTER MARTHA: Mother! MOTHER MARGUERITE: He's poor. SISTER MARTHA: Who told you so, dear Mother? MOTHER MARGUERITE: Monsieur Le Bret. SISTER MARTHA: None help him? MOTHER MARGUERITE: He permits not. (In an alley at the back Roxane appears, dressed in black, with a widow's coif and veil. De Guiche, imposing-looking and visibly aged, walks by her side. They saunter slowly. Mother Marguerite rises): 'Tis time we go in; Madame Madeleine Walks in the garden with a visitor. SISTER MARTHA (to Sister Claire, in a low voice): The Marshal of Grammont? SISTER CLAIRE (looking at him): 'Tis he, I think. SISTER MARTHA: 'Tis many months now since he came to see her. THE SISTERS: He is so busy!--The Court,--the camp!. . . SISTER CLAIRE: The world! (They go out. De Guiche and Roxane come forward in silence, and stop close to the embroidery frame.)

act v, scene i

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/

Fifteen years later, in 1655, the nuns of the Convent of the Ladies of the Cross in Paris talk about Cyrano. They say he makes them laugh, and they remark how he has come every week for more than ten years to visit his cousin Roxane, who first came to live in the convent after the death of her husband

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/47.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_6_part_2.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act v.scene ii

act v, scene ii

{"name": "Act V, scene ii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/", "summary": "Roxane enters the park of the convent accompanied by de Guiche, who, now an old man, is still magnificent and one of the most powerful nobles in France. He asks Roxane if she is still faithful to Christian's memory, and she says she is. He asks if she has forgiven him, and she replies, \"I am here. She says that she always wears Christian's last letter next to her heart. She tells de Guiche that Cyrano comes to visit her every week and gives her an impromptu gazette, telling her all the news. Le Bret enters and tells Roxane and de Guiche that things are going badly for Cyrano--he is old, poor, and disliked by a host of enemies as a result of his constant satirical attacks on hypocrites in society. De Guiche says that they should not pity him, because Cyrano lives his life as he chooses. De Guiche says that he would be proud to shake Cyrano's hand. Privately, de Guiche tells Le Bret that he has heard at court that some nobles are planning to kill Cyrano. Le Bret agrees to try to keep Cyrano at home", "analysis": ""}

Roxane; the Duke de Grammont, formerly Count de Guiche. Then Le Bret and Ragueneau. THE DUKE: And you stay here still--ever vainly fair, Ever in weeds? ROXANE: Ever. THE DUKE: Still faithful? ROXANE: Still. THE DUKE (after a pause): Am I forgiven? ROXANE: Ay, since I am here. (Another pause.) THE DUKE: His was a soul, you say?. . . ROXANE: Ah!--when you knew him! THE DUKE: Ah, may be!. . .I, perchance, too little knew him! . . .And his last letter, ever next your heart? ROXANE: Hung from this chain, a gentle scapulary. THE DUKE: And, dead, you love him still? ROXANE: At times,--meseems He is but partly dead--our hearts still speak, As if his love, still living, wrapped me round! THE DUKE (after another pause): Cyrano comes to see you? ROXANE: Often, ay. Dear, kind old friend! We call him my 'Gazette.' He never fails to come: beneath this tree They place his chair, if it be fine:--I wait, I broider;--the clock strikes;--at the last stroke I hear,--for now I never turn to look-- Too sure to hear his cane tap down the steps; He seats himself:--with gentle raillery He mocks my tapestry that's never done; He tells me all the gossip of the week. . . (Le Bret appears on the steps): Why, here's Le Bret! (Le Bret descends): How goes it with our friend? LE BRET: Ill!--very ill. THE DUKE: How? ROXANE (to the Duke): He exaggerates! LE BRET: All that I prophesied: desertion, want!. . . His letters now make him fresh enemies!-- Attacking the sham nobles, sham devout, Sham brave,--the thieving authors,--all the world! ROXANE: Ah! but his sword still holds them all in check; None get the better of him. THE DUKE (shaking his head): Time will show! LE BRET: Ah, but I fear for him--not man's attack,-- Solitude--hunger--cold December days, That wolf-like steal into his chamber drear:-- Lo! the assassins that I fear for him! Each day he tightens by one hole his belt: That poor nose--tinted like old ivory: He has retained one shabby suit of serge. THE DUKE: Ay, there is one who has no prize of Fortune!-- Yet is not to be pitied! LE BRET (with a bitter smile): My Lord Marshal!. . . THE DUKE: Pity him not! He has lived out his vows, Free in his thoughts, as in his actions free! LE BRET (in the same tone): My Lord!. . . THE DUKE (haughtily): True! I have all, and he has naught;. . . Yet I were proud to take his hand! (Bowing to Roxane): Adieu! ROXANE: I go with you. (The Duke bows to Le Bret, and goes with Roxane toward the steps.) THE DUKE (pausing, while she goes up): Ay, true,--I envy him. Look you, when life is brimful of success --Though the past hold no action foul--one feels A thousand self-disgusts, of which the sum Is not remorse, but a dim, vague unrest; And, as one mounts the steps of worldly fame, The Duke's furred mantles trail within their folds A sound of dead illusions, vain regrets, A rustle--scarce a whisper--like as when, Mounting the terrace steps, by your mourning robe Sweeps in its train the dying autumn leaves. ROXANE (ironically): You are pensive? THE DUKE: True! I am! (As he is going out, suddenly): Monsieur Le Bret! (To Roxane): A word, with your permission? (He goes to Le Bret, and in a low voice): True, that none Dare to attack your friend;--but many hate him; Yesterday, at the Queen's card-play, 'twas said 'That Cyrano may die--by accident!' Let him stay in--be prudent! LE BRET (raising his arms to heaven): Prudent! He!. . . He's coming here. I'll warn him--but!. . . ROXANE (who has stayed on the steps, to a sister who comes toward her): What is it? THE SISTER: Ragueneau would see you, Madame. ROXANE: Let him come. (To the Duke and Le Bret): He comes to tell his troubles. Having been An author (save the mark!)--poor fellow--now By turns he's singer. . . LE BRET: Bathing-man. . . ROXANE: Then actor. . . LE BRET: Beadle. . . ROXANE: Wig-maker. . . LE BRET: Teacher of the lute. . . ROXANE: What will he be to-day, by chance? RAGUENEAU (entering hurriedly): Ah! Madame! (He sees Le Bret): Ah! you here, Sir! ROXANE (smiling): Tell all your miseries To him; I will return anon. RAGUENEAU: But, Madame. . . (Roxane goes out with the Duke. Ragueneau goes toward Le Bret.)

Act V, scene ii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/

Roxane enters the park of the convent accompanied by de Guiche, who, now an old man, is still magnificent and one of the most powerful nobles in France. He asks Roxane if she is still faithful to Christian's memory, and she says she is. He asks if she has forgiven him, and she replies, "I am here. She says that she always wears Christian's last letter next to her heart. She tells de Guiche that Cyrano comes to visit her every week and gives her an impromptu gazette, telling her all the news. Le Bret enters and tells Roxane and de Guiche that things are going badly for Cyrano--he is old, poor, and disliked by a host of enemies as a result of his constant satirical attacks on hypocrites in society. De Guiche says that they should not pity him, because Cyrano lives his life as he chooses. De Guiche says that he would be proud to shake Cyrano's hand. Privately, de Guiche tells Le Bret that he has heard at court that some nobles are planning to kill Cyrano. Le Bret agrees to try to keep Cyrano at home

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/48.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_6_part_3.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act v.scene iii

act v, scene iii

{"name": "Act V, scene iii", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/", "summary": "Ragueneau rushes in and appears upset. As Roxane leaves to talk with de Guiche, Ragueneau tells Le Bret that as Cyrano strolled beneath a high window, some lackeys pushed a massive log of wood down onto him, breaking his skull. He is barely alive. If he tries to raise his head, he may die. Le Bret and Ragueneau hasten to his side", "analysis": ""}

Le Bret, Ragueneau. RAGUENEAU: Since you are here, 'tis best she should not know! I was going to your friend just now--was but A few steps from the house, when I saw him Go out. I hurried to him. Saw him turn The corner. . .suddenly, from out a window Where he was passing--was it chance?. . .may be! A lackey let fall a large piece of wood. LE BRET: Cowards! O Cyrano! RAGUENEAU: I ran--I saw. . . LE BRET: 'Tis hideous! RAGUENEAU: Saw our poet, Sir--our friend-- Struck to the ground--a large wound in his head! LE BRET: He's dead? RAGUENEAU: No--but--I bore him to his room. . . Ah! his room! What a thing to see!--that garret! LE BRET: He suffers? RAGUENEAU: No, his consciousness has flown. LE BRET: Saw you a doctor? RAGUENEAU: One was kind--he came. LE BRET: My poor Cyrano!--We must not tell this To Roxane suddenly.--What said this leech?-- RAGUENEAU: Said,--what, I know not--fever, meningitis!-- Ah! could you see him--all his head bound up!-- But let us haste!--There's no one by his bed!-- And if he try to rise, Sir, he might die! LE BRET (dragging him toward the right): Come! Through the chapel! 'Tis the quickest way! ROXANE (appearing on the steps, and seeing Le Bret go away by the colonnade leading to the chapel door): Monsieur le Bret! (Le Bret and Ragueneau disappear without answering): Le Bret goes--when I call! 'Tis some new trouble of good Ragueneau's. (She descends the steps.)

Act V, scene iii

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/

Ragueneau rushes in and appears upset. As Roxane leaves to talk with de Guiche, Ragueneau tells Le Bret that as Cyrano strolled beneath a high window, some lackeys pushed a massive log of wood down onto him, breaking his skull. He is barely alive. If he tries to raise his head, he may die. Le Bret and Ragueneau hasten to his side

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/49.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_6_part_4.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act v.scene iv

act v, scene iv

{"name": "Act V, scene iv", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/", "summary": "After they leave, Roxane reemerges and sits down beneath an autumn tree to sew. A nun announces Cyrano's arrival", "analysis": ""}

Roxane alone. Two sisters, for a moment. ROXANE: Ah! what a beauty in September's close! My sorrow's eased. April's joy dazzled it, But autumn wins it with her dying calm. (She seats herself at the embroidery frame. Two sisters come out of the house, and bring a large armchair under the tree): There comes the famous armchair where he sits, Dear faithful friend! SISTER MARTHA: It is the parlor's best! ROXANE: Thanks, sister. (The sisters go): He'll be here now. (She seats herself. A clock strikes): The hour strikes. --My silks?--Why, now, the hour's struck! How strange To be behind his time, at last, to-day! Perhaps the portress--where's my thimble?. . . Here!--Is preaching to him. (A pause): Yes, she must be preaching! Surely he must come soon!--Ah, a dead leaf!-- (She brushes off the leaf from her work): Nothing, besides, could--scissors?--In my bag! --Could hinder him. . . A SISTER (coming to the steps): Monsieur de Bergerac.

Act V, scene iv

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/

After they leave, Roxane reemerges and sits down beneath an autumn tree to sew. A nun announces Cyrano's arrival

sparknotes

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/50.txt

finished_summaries/sparknotes/Cyrano de Bergerac/section_6_part_5.txt

Cyrano de Bergerac.act v.scene v

act v, scene v

{"name": "Act V, scene v", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/", "summary": "Cyrano enters. He is pale and seems to be suffering. But he talks happily to Roxane, becoming solemn only when he tells her that he must go before nightfall. Roxane protests, then reminds Cyrano to tease the nuns, and he stuns Sister Marthe by cheerfully declaring that he will let her pray for him that night at vespers. Cyrano gives Roxane a comical summary of the news of the court, but his face becomes more and more tortured, and he finally loses consciousness. Roxane runs to his side, and he comes to, telling her his injury meant nothing and is merely an old wound. Roxane touches her heart and says they all have their old wounds. Cyrano asks about Christian's letter and reminds Roxane that he would like to read it someday. She says it is stained with blood and tears and is therefore hard to read. But she gives it to him, and he begins to read the words he wrote for her so many years ago. Twilight begins to fall, and Roxane sits amazed by the voice with which Cyrano reads the letter. She gradually realizes that she remembers hearing that voice under her balcony. Meanwhile, as darkness falls, she realizes that Cyrano is still able to read the letter. Suddenly, it all becomes clear to her, and she exclaims that she has realized that it was Cyrano all along. He denies it, but she now knows the truth. She asks why he kept silent for so long, since the tears on the letter belonged to him. Cyrano replies that the blood belonged to Christian", "analysis": ""}

Roxane, Cyrano and, for a moment, Sister Martha. ROXANE (without turning round): What was I saying?. . . (She embroiders. Cyrano, very pale, his hat pulled down over his eyes, appears. The sister who had announced him retires. He descends the steps slowly, with a visible difficulty in holding himself upright, bearing heavily on his cane. Roxane still works at her tapestry): Time has dimmed the tints. . . How harmonize them now? (To Cyrano, with playful reproach): For the first time Late!--For the first time, all these fourteen years! CYRANO (who has succeeded in reaching the chair, and has seated himself--in a lively voice, which is in great contrast with his pale face): Ay! It is villainous! I raged--was stayed. . . ROXANE: By?. . . CYRANO: By a bold, unwelcome visitor. ROXANE (absently, working): Some creditor? CYRANO: Ay, cousin,--the last creditor Who has a debt to claim from me. ROXANE: And you Have paid it? CYRANO: No, not yet! I put it off; --Said, 'Cry you mercy; this is Saturday, When I have get a standing rendezvous That naught defers. Call in an hour's time!' ROXANE (carelessly): Oh, well, a creditor can always wait! I shall not let you go ere twilight falls. CYRANO: Haply, perforce, I quit you ere it falls! (He shuts his eyes, and is silent for a moment. Sister Martha crosses the park from the chapel to the flight of steps. Roxane, seeing her, signs to her to approach.) ROXANE (to Cyrano): How now? You have not teased the Sister? CYRANO (hastily opening his eyes): True! (In a comically loud voice): Sister! come here! (The sister glides up to him): Ha! ha! What? Those bright eyes Bent ever on the ground? SISTER MARTHA (who makes a movement of astonishment on seeing his face): Oh! CYRANO (in a whisper, pointing to Roxane): Hush! 'tis naught!-- (Loudly, in a blustering voice): I broke fast yesterday! SISTER MARTHA (aside): I know, I know! That's how he is so pale! Come presently To the refectory, I'll make you drink A famous bowl of soup. . .You'll come? CYRANO: Ay, ay! SISTER MARTHA: There, see! You are more reasonable to-day! ROXANE (who hears them whispering): The Sister would convert you? SISTER MARTHA: Nay, not I! CYRANO: Hold! but it's true! You preach to me no more, You, once so glib with holy words! I am Astonished!. . . (With burlesque fury): Stay, I will surprise you too! Hark! I permit you. . . (He pretends to be seeking for something to tease her with, and to have found it): . . .It is something new!-- To--pray for me, to-night, at chapel-time! ROXANE: Oh! oh! CYRANO (laughing): Good Sister Martha is struck dumb! SISTER MARTHA (gently): I did not wait your leave to pray for you. (She goes out.) CYRANO (turning to Roxane, who is still bending over her work): That tapestry! Beshrew me if my eyes Will ever see it finished! ROXANE: I was sure To hear that well-known jest! (A light breeze causes the leaves to fall.) CYRANO: The autumn leaves! ROXANE (lifting her head, and looking down the distant alley): Soft golden brown, like a Venetian's hair. --See how they fall! CYRANO: Ay, see how brave they fall, In their last journey downward from the bough, To rot within the clay; yet, lovely still, Hiding the horror of the last decay, With all the wayward grace of careless flight! ROXANE: What, melancholy--you? CYRANO (collecting himself): Nay, nay, Roxane! ROXANE: Then let the dead leaves fall the way they will. . . And chat. What, have you nothing new to tell, My Court Gazette? CYRANO: Listen. ROXANE: Ah! CYRANO (growing whiter and whiter): Saturday The nineteenth: having eaten to excess Of pear-conserve, the King felt feverish; The lancet quelled this treasonable revolt, And the august pulse beats at normal pace. At the Queen's ball on Sunday thirty score Of best white waxen tapers were consumed. Our troops, they say, have chased the Austrians. Four sorcerers were hanged. The little dog Of Madame d'Athis took a dose. . . ROXANE: I bid You hold your tongue, Monsieur de Bergerac! CYRANO: Monday--not much--Claire changed protector. ROXANE: Oh! CYRANO (whose face changes more and more): Tuesday, the Court repaired to Fontainebleau. Wednesday, the Montglat said to Comte de Fiesque. . . No! Thursday--Mancini, Queen of France! (almost!) Friday, the Monglat to Count Fiesque said--'Yes!' And Saturday the twenty-sixth. . . (He closes his eyes. His head falls forward. Silence.) ROXANE (surprised at his voice ceasing, turns round, looks at him, and rising, terrified): He swoons! (She runs toward him crying): Cyrano! CYRANO (opening his eyes, in an unconcerned voice): What is this? (He sees Roxane bending over him, and, hastily pressing his hat on his head, and shrinking back in his chair): Nay, on my word 'Tis nothing! Let me be! ROXANE: But. . . CYRANO: That old wound Of Arras, sometimes,--as you know. . . ROXANE: Dear friend! CYRANO: 'Tis nothing, 'twill pass soon; (He smiles with an effort): See!--it has passed! ROXANE: Each of us has his wound; ay, I have mine,-- Never healed up--not healed yet, my old wound! (She puts her hand on her breast): 'Tis here, beneath this letter brown with age, All stained with tear-drops, and still stained with blood. (Twilight begins to fall.) CYRANO: His letter! Ah! you promised me one day That I should read it. ROXANE: What would you?--His letter? CYRANO: Yes, I would fain,--to-day. . . ROXANE (giving the bag hung at her neck): See! here it is! CYRANO (taking it): Have I your leave to open? ROXANE: Open--read! (She comes back to her tapestry frame, folds it up, sorts her wools.) CYRANO (reading): 'Roxane, adieu! I soon must die! This very night, beloved; and I Feel my soul heavy with love untold. I die! No more, as in days of old, My loving, longing eyes will feast On your least gesture--ay, the least! I mind me the way you touch your cheek With your finger, softly, as you speak! Ah me! I know that gesture well! My heart cries out!--I cry "Farewell"!' ROXANE: But how you read that letter! One would think. . . CYRANO (continuing to read): 'My life, my love, my jewel, my sweet, My heart has been yours in every beat!' (The shades of evening fall imperceptibly.) ROXANE: You read in such a voice--so strange--and yet-- It is not the first time I hear that voice! (She comes nearer very softly, without his perceiving it, passes behind his chair, and, noiselessly leaning over him, looks at the letter. The darkness deepens.) CYRANO: 'Here, dying, and there, in the land on high, I am he who loved, who loves you,--I. . .' ROXANE (putting her hand on his shoulder): How can you read? It is too dark to see! (He starts, turns, sees her close to him. Suddenly alarmed, he holds his head down. Then in the dusk, which has now completely enfolded them, she says, very slowly, with clasped hands): And, fourteen years long, he has played this part Of the kind old friend who comes to laugh and chat. CYRANO: Roxane! ROXANE: 'Twas you! CYRANO: No, never; Roxane, no! ROXANE: I should have guessed, each time he said my name! CYRANO: No, it was not I! ROXANE: It was you! CYRANO: I swear! ROXANE: I see through all the generous counterfeit-- The letters--you! CYRANO: No. ROXANE: The sweet, mad love-words! You! CYRANO: No! ROXANE: The voice that thrilled the night--you, you! CYRANO: I swear you err. ROXANE: The soul--it was your soul! CYRANO: I loved you not. ROXANE: You loved me not? CYRANO: 'Twas he! ROXANE: You loved me! CYRANO: No! ROXANE: See! how you falter now! CYRANO: No, my sweet love, I never loved you! ROXANE: Ah! Things dead, long dead, see! how they rise again! --Why, why keep silence all these fourteen years, When, on this letter, which he never wrote, The tears were your tears? CYRANO (holding out the letter to her): The bloodstains were his. ROXANE: Why, then, that noble silence,--kept so long-- Broken to-day for the first time--why? CYRANO: Why?. . . (Le Bret and Ragueneau enter running.)

Act V, scene v

https://web.archive.org/web/20210115184120/https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/cyrano/section7/

Cyrano enters. He is pale and seems to be suffering. But he talks happily to Roxane, becoming solemn only when he tells her that he must go before nightfall. Roxane protests, then reminds Cyrano to tease the nuns, and he stuns Sister Marthe by cheerfully declaring that he will let her pray for him that night at vespers. Cyrano gives Roxane a comical summary of the news of the court, but his face becomes more and more tortured, and he finally loses consciousness. Roxane runs to his side, and he comes to, telling her his injury meant nothing and is merely an old wound. Roxane touches her heart and says they all have their old wounds. Cyrano asks about Christian's letter and reminds Roxane that he would like to read it someday. She says it is stained with blood and tears and is therefore hard to read. But she gives it to him, and he begins to read the words he wrote for her so many years ago. Twilight begins to fall, and Roxane sits amazed by the voice with which Cyrano reads the letter. She gradually realizes that she remembers hearing that voice under her balcony. Meanwhile, as darkness falls, she realizes that Cyrano is still able to read the letter. Suddenly, it all becomes clear to her, and she exclaims that she has realized that it was Cyrano all along. He denies it, but she now knows the truth. She asks why he kept silent for so long, since the tears on the letter belonged to him. Cyrano replies that the blood belonged to Christian

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/2.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_0_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 1.scene 1

scene 1

{"name": "Scene 1", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano11.asp", "summary": "Scene one opens in a famous French theater, where Balthazar Baro's play La Clorise, starring Montfleury, is to be performed. People are beginning to arrive for the performance. The patrons to arrive first include military men, tradesmen , and pages. Two lackeys come in and sit on the floor to gamble. Some cavaliers enter without buying a ticket. A gang of pickpockets arrives to do their dirty work. Gradually the aristocrats start arriving. The conversations of the various people are intertwined. One of the aristocrats complains that he has come too early to disrupt the play. Others talk about the upcoming drama. The scene ends with the entrance of the satiric drunken poet Ligniere, who is arm in arm with Christian de Neuvillette.", "analysis": "Notes Scene I introduces the importance of French theatre in the seventeenth century. It is the period of famous French dramatists, such as Corneille and Moliere. A variety of people come to the theater. They come for many different reasons to play cards, to flirt, and to pick pockets. A few of the patrons actually come to watch the play. The theater-goers are really a cross-section of seventeenth century French society, and not all of them are pleasant types. The patrons include pickpockets, who plan to prey on the wealthy, and cavaliers, who enter without paying for the performance. In the general chatter of the crowd that arrives and waits for the play to begin, a mood of excitement is created. The conversations also give information about the upcoming performance. The play is Clorise, and it stars Montfleury. Other conversations are also heard, including a pickpocket's instructions to his men. The diversity of talk, especially that of the pickpocket and the aristocrat who regrets his on-time arrival, brings an element of humor to the opening scene."}

The public, arriving by degrees. Troopers, burghers, lackeys, pages, a pickpocket, the doorkeeper, etc., followed by the marquises. Cuigy, Brissaille, the buffet-girl, the violinists, etc. (A confusion of loud voices is heard outside the door. A trooper enters hastily.) THE DOORKEEPER (following him): Hollo! You there! Your money! THE TROOPER: I enter gratis. THE DOORKEEPER: Why? THE TROOPER: Why? I am of the King's Household Cavalry, 'faith! THE DOORKEEPER (to another trooper who enters): And you? SECOND TROOPER: I pay nothing. THE DOORKEEPER: How so? SECOND TROOPER: I am a musketeer. FIRST TROOPER (to the second): The play will not begin till two. The pit is empty. Come, a bout with the foils to pass the time. (They fence with the foils they have brought.) A LACKEY (entering): Pst. . .Flanquin. . .! ANOTHER (already there): Champagne?. . . THE FIRST (showing him cards and dice which he takes from his doublet): See, here be cards and dice. (He seats himself on the floor): Let's play. THE SECOND (doing the same): Good; I am with you, villain! FIRST LACKEY (taking from his pocket a candle-end, which he lights, and sticks on the floor): I made free to provide myself with light at my master's expense! A GUARDSMAN (to a shop-girl who advances): 'Twas prettily done to come before the lights were lit! (He takes her round the waist.) ONE OF THE FENCERS (receiving a thrust): A hit! ONE OF THE CARD-PLAYERS: Clubs! THE GUARDSMAN (following the girl): A kiss! THE SHOP-GIRL (struggling to free herself): They're looking! THE GUARDSMAN (drawing her to a dark corner): No fear! No one can see! A MAN (sitting on the ground with others, who have brought their provisions): By coming early, one can eat in comfort. A BURGHER (conducting his son): Let us sit here, son. A CARD-PLAYER: Triple ace! A MAN (taking a bottle from under his cloak, and also seating himself on the floor): A tippler may well quaff his Burgundy (he drinks): in the Burgundy Hotel! THE BURGHER (to his son): 'Faith! A man might think he had fallen in a bad house here! (He points with his cane to the drunkard): What with topers! (One of the fencers in breaking off, jostles him): brawlers! (He stumbles into the midst of the card-players): gamblers! THE GUARDSMAN (behind him, still teasing the shop-girl): Come, one kiss! THE BURGHER (hurriedly pulling his son away): By all the holies! And this, my boy, is the theater where they played Rotrou erewhile. THE YOUNG MAN: Ay, and Corneille! A TROOP OF PAGES (hand-in-hand, enter dancing the farandole, and singing): Tra' a la, la, la, la, la, la, la, lere. . . THE DOORKEEPER (sternly, to the pages): You pages there, none of your tricks!. . . FIRST PAGE (with an air of wounded dignity): Oh, sir!--such a suspicion!. . . (Briskly, to the second page, the moment the doorkeeper's back is turned): Have you string? THE SECOND: Ay, and a fish-hook with it. FIRST PAGE: We can angle for wigs, then, up there i' th' gallery. A PICKPOCKET (gathering about him some evil-looking youths): Hark ye, young cut-purses, lend an ear, while I give you your first lesson in thieving. SECOND PAGE (calling up to others in the top galleries): You there! Have you peashooters? THIRD PAGE (from above): Ay, have we, and peas withal! (He blows, and peppers them with peas.) THE YOUNG MAN (to his father): What piece do they give us? THE BURGHER: 'Clorise.' THE YOUNG MAN: Who may the author be? THE BURGHER: Master Balthazar Baro. It is a play!. . . (He goes arm-in-arm with his son.) THE PICKPOCKET (to his pupils): Have a care, above all, of the lace knee-ruffles--cut them off! A SPECTATOR (to another, showing him a corner in the gallery): I was up there, the first night of the 'Cid.' THE PICKPOCKET (making with his fingers the gesture of filching): Thus for watches-- THE BURGHER (coming down again with his son): Ah! You shall presently see some renowned actors. . . THE PICKPOCKET (making the gestures of one who pulls something stealthily, with little jerks): Thus for handkerchiefs-- THE BURGHER: Montfleury. . . SOME ONE (shouting from the upper gallery): Light up, below there! THE BURGHER: . . .Bellerose, L'Epy, La Beaupre, Jodelet! A PAGE (in the pit): Here comes the buffet-girl! THE BUFFET-GIRL (taking her place behind the buffet): Oranges, milk, raspberry-water, cedar bitters! (A hubbub outside the door is heard.) A FALSETTO VOICE: Make place, brutes! A LACKEY (astonished): The Marquises!--in the pit?. . . ANOTHER LACKEY: Oh! only for a minute or two! (Enter a band of young marquises.) A MARQUIS (seeing that the hall is half empty): What now! So we make our entrance like a pack of woolen-drapers! Peaceably, without disturbing the folk, or treading on their toes!--Oh, fie! Fie! (Recognizing some other gentlemen who have entered a little before him): Cuigy! Brissaille! (Greetings and embraces.) CUIGY: True to our word!. . .Troth, we are here before the candles are lit. THE MARQUIS: Ay, indeed! Enough! I am of an ill humor. ANOTHER: Nay, nay, Marquis! see, for your consolation, they are coming to light up! ALL THE AUDIENCE (welcoming the entrance of the lighter): Ah!. . . (They form in groups round the lusters as they are lit. Some people have taken their seats in the galleries. Ligniere, a distinguished-looking roue, with disordered shirt-front arm-in-arm with christian de Neuvillette. Christian, who is dressed elegantly, but rather behind the fashion, seems preoccupied, and keeps looking at the boxes.)

Scene 1

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano11.asp

Scene one opens in a famous French theater, where Balthazar Baro's play La Clorise, starring Montfleury, is to be performed. People are beginning to arrive for the performance. The patrons to arrive first include military men, tradesmen , and pages. Two lackeys come in and sit on the floor to gamble. Some cavaliers enter without buying a ticket. A gang of pickpockets arrives to do their dirty work. Gradually the aristocrats start arriving. The conversations of the various people are intertwined. One of the aristocrats complains that he has come too early to disrupt the play. Others talk about the upcoming drama. The scene ends with the entrance of the satiric drunken poet Ligniere, who is arm in arm with Christian de Neuvillette.

Notes Scene I introduces the importance of French theatre in the seventeenth century. It is the period of famous French dramatists, such as Corneille and Moliere. A variety of people come to the theater. They come for many different reasons to play cards, to flirt, and to pick pockets. A few of the patrons actually come to watch the play. The theater-goers are really a cross-section of seventeenth century French society, and not all of them are pleasant types. The patrons include pickpockets, who plan to prey on the wealthy, and cavaliers, who enter without paying for the performance. In the general chatter of the crowd that arrives and waits for the play to begin, a mood of excitement is created. The conversations also give information about the upcoming performance. The play is Clorise, and it stars Montfleury. Other conversations are also heard, including a pickpocket's instructions to his men. The diversity of talk, especially that of the pickpocket and the aristocrat who regrets his on-time arrival, brings an element of humor to the opening scene.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/4.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_2_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 1.scene 3

scene 3

{"name": "Scene 3", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano14.asp", "summary": "Two gentlemen discuss Count De Guiche, a man of importance who is described as a morally flexible and coldly calculating Gascon. As the two of them try to flatter the count, they reference his ability to defeat the Spaniards in Flanders. At the same time, Christian is still planning to challenge De Guiche in order to defend Roxane's honor. As he reaches into his pocket to find his glove, he realizes that his pocket is being picked. He catches the thief, who offers to tell him about the danger Ligniere is in if Christian lets him off. Christian agrees to the bargain. The pickpocket explains that Ligniere has written an offensive poem that criticizes an important person. As a result, he is to be attacked and killed on his way home from the theater; a hundred men are waiting to ambush him at the Porte de Nesle. Concerned about his friend, Christian leaves the theatre to find Ligniere. After Christian departs, De Guiche and his followers go to sit on the stage. A page in the upper galley, wanting to have some fun, lifts the wig off of one of the followers with a fishing hook. Although the prank causes much laughter in the audience, the theater soon grows silent with the arrival of Cardinal Richelieu. Now the play can finally begin. The curtain opens, and Montfleury begins his first speech. Suddenly, the voice of Cyrano is also heard. He orders the actor to leave the stage. Montfleury, encouraged by the audience, ignores Cyrano and continues. Cyrano then stands up on a chair and gives Montfleury a warning.", "analysis": "Notes The third scene is significant for several reasons. It presents De Guiche as a morally flexible and coldly calculating man; later it will be seen that he can be extremely vindictive when he is exposed in his craftiness. The scene also indicates that De Guiche is a powerful man with many followers; it is suggested that he has enough strength to defeat the Spanish in Flanders. As a result, the scene indicates the growing problem between Spain and France and foreshadows the impending siege of Arras in which De Guiche will play an important role. In addition, the scene reveals that there is supposedly a plot on Ligniere's life. According to the pickpocket, he is to be killed on his way home from the theater as punishment for an offensive poem he has written. Finally, the scene introduces Cyrano in person. When Montfleury is giving his opening speech, the voice of the protagonist is heard, ordering the actor from the stage. When Montfleury ignores him, Cyrano climbs on a check and gives him another clear warning. Rostand also creates moments of lightness in the third scene. When the meek Christian reaches into his pocket to find his glove before he goes to challenge the powerful De Guiche to a duel, he ironically finds his pocket is being picked. He then strikes a \"deal\" with the pickpocket. The author also adds a touch of horseplay as the pages use a fishhook to pluck the wig off the head of a burgher. The entire audience finds the antic humorous. It is important to note that by the end of this scene the three men that have an interest in Roxane have been introduced. Christian thinks he is truly in love with the beautiful women; however, he is afraid that he does not have enough charm to win her affections. De Guiche, a married man, is also interested in Roxane. Since he cannot court her because of his marital status, he is encouraging Valvert, one of his weak followers, to pursue her; if he is successful in establishing that relationship, he knows it will be easy to carry out his personal plans with Roxane. Cyrano, the cousin of Roxane, also has an interest in her. The battle for her affections will form the major conflict of the play."}

The same, all but Ligniere. De Guiche, Valvert, then Montfleury. A marquis (watching De Guiche, who comes down from Roxane's box, and crosses the pit surrounded by obsequious noblemen, among them the Viscount de Valvert): He pays a fine court, your De Guiche! ANOTHER: Faugh!. . .Another Gascon! THE FIRST: Ay, but the cold, supple Gascon--that is the stuff success is made of! Believe me, we had best make our bow to him. (They go toward De Guiche.) SECOND MARQUIS: What fine ribbons! How call you the color, Count de Guiche? 'Kiss me, my darling,' or 'Timid Fawn?' DE GUICHE: 'Tis the color called 'Sick Spaniard.' FIRST MARQUIS: 'Faith! The color speaks truth, for, thanks to your valor, things will soon go ill for Spain in Flanders. DE GUICHE: I go on the stage! Will you come? (He goes toward the stage, followed by the marquises and gentlemen. Turning, he calls): Come you Valvert! CHRISTIAN (who is watching and listening, starts on hearing this name): The Viscount! Ah! I will throw full in his face my. . . (He puts his hand in his pocket, and finds there the hand of a pickpocket who is about to rob him. He turns round): Hey? THE PICKPOCKET: Oh! CHRISTIAN (holding him tightly): I was looking for a glove. THE PICKPOCKET (smiling piteously): And you find a hand. (Changing his tone, quickly and in a whisper): Let me but go, and I will deliver you a secret. CHRISTIAN (still holding him): What is it? THE PICKPOCKET: Ligniere. . .he who has just left you. . . CHRISTIAN (same play): Well? THE PICKPOCKET: His life is in peril. A song writ by him has given offense in high places-- and a hundred men--I am of them--are posted to-night. . . CHRISTIAN: A hundred men! By whom posted? THE PICKPOCKET: I may not say--a secret. . . CHRISTIAN (shrugging his shoulders): Oh! THE PICKPOCKET (with great dignity): . . .Of the profession. CHRISTIAN: Where are they posted? THE PICKPOCKET: At the Porte de Nesle. On his way homeward. Warn him. CHRISTIAN (letting go of his wrists): But where can I find him? THE PICKPOCKET: Run round to all the taverns--The Golden Wine Press, the Pine Cone, The Belt that Bursts, The Two Torches, The Three Funnels, and at each leave a word that shall put him on his guard. CHRISTIAN: Good--I fly! Ah, the scoundrels! A hundred men 'gainst one! (Looking lovingly at Roxane): Ah, to leave her!. . . (looking with rage at Valvert): and him!. . .But save Ligniere I must! (He hurries out. De Guiche, the viscount, the marquises, have all disappeared behind the curtain to take their places on the benches placed on the stage. The pit is quite full; the galleries and boxes are also crowded.) THE AUDIENCE: Begin! A BURGHER (whose wig is drawn up on the end of a string by a page in the upper gallery): My wig! CRIES OF DELIGHT: He is bald! Bravo, pages--ha! ha! ha!. . . THE BURGHER (furious, shaking his fist): Young villain! LAUGHTER AND CRIES (beginning very loud, and dying gradually away): Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! (Total silence.) LE BRET (astonished): What means this sudden silence?. . . (A spectator says something to him in a low voice): Is't true? THE SPECTATOR: I have just heard it on good authority. MURMURS (spreading through the hall): Hush! Is it he? No! Ay, I say! In the box with the bars in front! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! The Cardinal! A PAGE: The devil! We shall have to behave ourselves. . . (A knock is heard upon the stage. Every one is motionless. A pause.) THE VOICE OF A MARQUIS (in the silence, behind the curtain): Snuff that candle! ANOTHER MARQUIS (putting his head through the opening in the curtain): A chair! (A chair is passed from hand to hand, over the heads of the spectators. The marquis takes it and disappears, after blowing some kisses to the boxes.) A SPECTATOR: Silence! (Three knocks are heard on the stage. The curtain opens in the centre Tableau. The marquises in insolent attitudes seated on each side of the stage. The scene represents a pastoral landscape. Four little lusters light the stage; the violins play softly.) LE BRET (in a low voice to Ragueneau): Montfleury comes on the scene? RAGUENEAU (also in a low voice): Ay, 'tis he who begins. LE BRET: Cyrano is not here. RAGUENEAU: I have lost my wager. LE BRET: 'Tis all the better! (An air on the drone-pipes is heard, and Montfleury enters, enormously stout, in an Arcadian shepherd's dress, a hat wreathed with roses drooping over one ear, blowing into a ribboned drone pipe.) THE PIT (applauding): Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury! MONTFLEURY (after bowing low, begins the part of Phedon): 'Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu solitaire, Se prescrit a soi-meme un exil volontaire, Et qui, lorsque Zephire a souffle sur les bois. . .' A VOICE (from the middle of the pit): Villain! Did I not forbid you to show your face here for month? (General stupor. Every one turns round. Murmurs.) DIFFERENT VOICES: Hey?--What?--What is't?. . . (The people stand up in the boxes to look.) CUIGY: 'Tis he! LE BRET (terrified): Cyrano! THE VOICE: King of clowns! Leave the stage this instant! ALL THE AUDIENCE (indignantly): Oh! MONTFLEURY: But. . . THE VOICE: Do you dare defy me? DIFFERENT VOICES (from the pit and the boxes): Peace! Enough!--Play on, Montfleury--fear nothing! MONTFLEURY (in a trembling voice): 'Heureux qui loin des cours, dans un lieu sol--' THE VOICE (more fiercely): Well! Chief of all the blackguards, must I come and give you a taste of my cane? (A hand holding a cane starts up over the heads of the spectators.) MONTFLEURY (in a voice that trembles more and more): 'Heureux qui. . .' (The cane is shaken.) THE VOICE: Off the stage! THE PIT: Oh! MONTFLEURY (choking): 'Heureux qui loin des cours. . .' CYRANO (appearing suddenly in the pit, standing on a chair, his arms crossed, his beaver cocked fiercely, his mustache bristling, his nose terrible to see): Ah! I shall be angry in a minute!. . . (Sensation.)

Scene 3

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano14.asp

Two gentlemen discuss Count De Guiche, a man of importance who is described as a morally flexible and coldly calculating Gascon. As the two of them try to flatter the count, they reference his ability to defeat the Spaniards in Flanders. At the same time, Christian is still planning to challenge De Guiche in order to defend Roxane's honor. As he reaches into his pocket to find his glove, he realizes that his pocket is being picked. He catches the thief, who offers to tell him about the danger Ligniere is in if Christian lets him off. Christian agrees to the bargain. The pickpocket explains that Ligniere has written an offensive poem that criticizes an important person. As a result, he is to be attacked and killed on his way home from the theater; a hundred men are waiting to ambush him at the Porte de Nesle. Concerned about his friend, Christian leaves the theatre to find Ligniere. After Christian departs, De Guiche and his followers go to sit on the stage. A page in the upper galley, wanting to have some fun, lifts the wig off of one of the followers with a fishing hook. Although the prank causes much laughter in the audience, the theater soon grows silent with the arrival of Cardinal Richelieu. Now the play can finally begin. The curtain opens, and Montfleury begins his first speech. Suddenly, the voice of Cyrano is also heard. He orders the actor to leave the stage. Montfleury, encouraged by the audience, ignores Cyrano and continues. Cyrano then stands up on a chair and gives Montfleury a warning.

Notes The third scene is significant for several reasons. It presents De Guiche as a morally flexible and coldly calculating man; later it will be seen that he can be extremely vindictive when he is exposed in his craftiness. The scene also indicates that De Guiche is a powerful man with many followers; it is suggested that he has enough strength to defeat the Spanish in Flanders. As a result, the scene indicates the growing problem between Spain and France and foreshadows the impending siege of Arras in which De Guiche will play an important role. In addition, the scene reveals that there is supposedly a plot on Ligniere's life. According to the pickpocket, he is to be killed on his way home from the theater as punishment for an offensive poem he has written. Finally, the scene introduces Cyrano in person. When Montfleury is giving his opening speech, the voice of the protagonist is heard, ordering the actor from the stage. When Montfleury ignores him, Cyrano climbs on a check and gives him another clear warning. Rostand also creates moments of lightness in the third scene. When the meek Christian reaches into his pocket to find his glove before he goes to challenge the powerful De Guiche to a duel, he ironically finds his pocket is being picked. He then strikes a "deal" with the pickpocket. The author also adds a touch of horseplay as the pages use a fishhook to pluck the wig off the head of a burgher. The entire audience finds the antic humorous. It is important to note that by the end of this scene the three men that have an interest in Roxane have been introduced. Christian thinks he is truly in love with the beautiful women; however, he is afraid that he does not have enough charm to win her affections. De Guiche, a married man, is also interested in Roxane. Since he cannot court her because of his marital status, he is encouraging Valvert, one of his weak followers, to pursue her; if he is successful in establishing that relationship, he knows it will be easy to carry out his personal plans with Roxane. Cyrano, the cousin of Roxane, also has an interest in her. The battle for her affections will form the major conflict of the play.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/6.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_4_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 1.scene 5

scene 5

{"name": "Scene 5", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano17.asp", "summary": "LeBret is appalled by the actions of Cyrano at the theater. He is certain that his friend has made a large number of enemies because of his outlandish behavior. Cyrano, however, is proud of how he has acted. He feels he has done what is right, which gives him a clear conscience. This is important to Cyrano, who tries \"to be admirable in everything.\" Cyrano reveals the true reason for his hatred of Montfleury. The actor had given amorous looks to Roxane, whom Cyrano confesses that he loves. Le Bret tells Cyrano that Roxane seemed to be deeply impressed by his victory over Valvert. He then encourages his friend to tell Roxane of his love, but Cyrano refuses. Because of his physical appearance, he feels that she could never have a romantic interest in him. In fact, he fears that she might laugh in his face.", "analysis": "Notes In this scene, Cyrano reveals that he is in love with Roxane. He also reveals that the true reason for his hatred of Montfleury is jealousy. The actor, whom Cyrano judges to be a buffoon, has looked amorously at Roxane, greatly upsetting Cyrano. He obviously does not yet know about Christian's amorous feelings for Roxane. The brief conversation between Cyrano and Le Bret centers on love, which is the main thematic content and motivating force of the entire play. Even though he deeply loves his cousin Roxane, Cyrano does not dare to let her know because of his ugly appearance. He fears that she would laugh at the \"protuberance\" on his face. His romantic sensibility reaches hyperbolic proportions when he claims that \"the divine beauty of tears must not be contaminated\" by running down the ugliness of his nose. In contrast to his ugliness, Cyrano describes the pure beauty of Roxane with vivid language that is filled with imagery and metaphors. He says that she is \"unintentionally nature's trap\" and a musk rose. He also compares her to the goddesses, Venus and Diana. Then as Cyrano sadly talks about his own ugliness, he reveals that he is totally honest about himself. He also expects others to be honest and cannot stand hypocrisy in anyone. As Cyrano describes himself and his beliefs, Rostand is trying to make certain that any antagonism that the audience may have felt at his protagonist's earlier bullying is eliminated. It is important to note the differences between the two lovers of Roxane. Christian, who is extremely handsome, feels he cannot win Roxane because he has no way with words. In ironic contrast, the poetic Cyrano, who has a remarkable way with words, feels he cannot win Roxane because of his ugliness."}

Cyrano, Le Bret. CYRANO (to Le Bret): Now talk--I listen. (He stands at the buffet, and placing before him first the macaroon): Dinner!. . . (then the grapes): Dessert!. . . (then the glass of water): Wine!. . . (he seats himself): So! And now to table! Ah! I was hungry, friend, nay, ravenous! (eating): You said--? LE BRET: These fops, would-be belligerent, Will, if you heed them only, turn your head!. . . Ask people of good sense if you would know The effect of your fine insolence-- CYRANO (finishing his macaroon): Enormous! LE BRET: The Cardinal. . . CYRANO (radiant): The Cardinal--was there? LE BRET: Must have thought it. . . CYRANO: Original, i' faith! LE BRET: But. . . CYRANO: He's an author. 'Twill not fail to please him That I should mar a brother-author's play. LE BRET: You make too many enemies by far! CYRANO (eating his grapes): How many think you I have made to-night? LE BRET: Forty, no less, not counting ladies. CYRANO: Count! LE BRET: Montfleury first, the bourgeois, then De Guiche, The Viscount, Baro, the Academy. . . CYRANO: Enough! I am o'erjoyed! LE BRET: But these strange ways, Where will they lead you, at the end? Explain Your system--come! CYRANO: I in a labyrinth Was lost--too many different paths to choose; I took. . . LE BRET: Which? CYRANO: Oh! by far the simplest path. . . Decided to be admirable in all! LE BRET (shrugging his shoulders): So be it! But the motive of your hate To Montfleury--come, tell me! CYRANO (rising): This Silenus, Big-bellied, coarse, still deems himself a peril-- A danger to the love of lovely ladies, And, while he sputters out his actor's part, Makes sheep's eyes at their boxes--goggling frog! I hate him since the evening he presumed To raise his eyes to hers. . .Meseemed I saw A slug crawl slavering o'er a flower's petals! LE BRET (stupefied): How now? What? Can it be. . .? CYRANO (laughing bitterly): That I should love?. . . (Changing his tone, gravely): I love. LE BRET: And may I know?. . .You never said. . . CYRANO: Come now, bethink you!. . .The fond hope to be Beloved, e'en by some poor graceless lady, Is, by this nose of mine for aye bereft me; --This lengthy nose which, go where'er I will, Pokes yet a quarter-mile ahead of me; But I may love--and who? 'Tis Fate's decree I love the fairest--how were't otherwise? LE BRET: The fairest?. . . CYRANO: Ay, the fairest of the world, Most brilliant--most refined--most golden-haired! LE BRET: Who is this lady? CYRANO: She's a danger mortal, All unsuspicious--full of charms unconscious, Like a sweet perfumed rose--a snare of nature, Within whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush! He who has seen her smile has known perfection, --Instilling into trifles grace's essence, Divinity in every careless gesture; Not Venus' self can mount her conch blown sea-ward, As she can step into her chaise a porteurs, Nor Dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered, Light as my Lady o'er the stones of Paris!. . . LE BRET: Sapristi! all is clear! CYRANO: As spiderwebs! LE BRET: Your cousin, Madeleine Robin? CYRANO: Roxane! LE BRET: Well, but so much the better! Tell her so! She saw your triumph here this very night! CYRANO: Look well at me--then tell me, with what hope This vile protuberance can inspire my heart! I do not lull me with illusions--yet At times I'm weak: in evening hours dim I enter some fair pleasance, perfumed sweet; With my poor ugly devil of a nose I scent spring's essence--in the silver rays I see some knight--a lady on his arm, And think 'To saunter thus 'neath the moonshine, I were fain to have my lady, too, beside!' Thought soars to ecstasy. . .O sudden fall! --The shadow of my profile on the wall! LE BRET (tenderly): My friend!. . . CYRANO: My friend, at times 'tis hard, 'tis bitter, To feel my loneliness--my own ill-favor. . . LE BRET (taking his hand): You weep? CYRANO: No, never! Think, how vilely suited Adown this nose a tear its passage tracing! I never will, while of myself I'm master, let the divinity of tears--their beauty Be wedded to such common ugly grossness. Nothing more solemn than a tear--sublimer; And I would not by weeping turn to laughter The grave emotion that a tear engenders! LE BRET: Never be sad! What's love?--a chance of Fortune! CYRANO (shaking his head): Look I a Caesar to woo Cleopatra? A Tito to aspire to Berenice? LE BRET: Your courage and your wit!--The little maid Who offered you refreshment even now, Her eyes did not abhor you--you saw well! CYRANO (impressed): True! LE BRET: Well, how then?. . .I saw Roxane herself Was death-pale as she watched the duel. CYRANO: Pale? LE BRET: Her heart, her fancy, are already caught! Put it to th' touch! CYRANO: That she may mock my face? That is the one thing on this earth I fear! THE PORTER (introducing some one to Cyrano): Sir, some one asks for you. . . CYRANO (seeing the duenna): God! her duenna!

Scene 5

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano17.asp

LeBret is appalled by the actions of Cyrano at the theater. He is certain that his friend has made a large number of enemies because of his outlandish behavior. Cyrano, however, is proud of how he has acted. He feels he has done what is right, which gives him a clear conscience. This is important to Cyrano, who tries "to be admirable in everything." Cyrano reveals the true reason for his hatred of Montfleury. The actor had given amorous looks to Roxane, whom Cyrano confesses that he loves. Le Bret tells Cyrano that Roxane seemed to be deeply impressed by his victory over Valvert. He then encourages his friend to tell Roxane of his love, but Cyrano refuses. Because of his physical appearance, he feels that she could never have a romantic interest in him. In fact, he fears that she might laugh in his face.

Notes In this scene, Cyrano reveals that he is in love with Roxane. He also reveals that the true reason for his hatred of Montfleury is jealousy. The actor, whom Cyrano judges to be a buffoon, has looked amorously at Roxane, greatly upsetting Cyrano. He obviously does not yet know about Christian's amorous feelings for Roxane. The brief conversation between Cyrano and Le Bret centers on love, which is the main thematic content and motivating force of the entire play. Even though he deeply loves his cousin Roxane, Cyrano does not dare to let her know because of his ugly appearance. He fears that she would laugh at the "protuberance" on his face. His romantic sensibility reaches hyperbolic proportions when he claims that "the divine beauty of tears must not be contaminated" by running down the ugliness of his nose. In contrast to his ugliness, Cyrano describes the pure beauty of Roxane with vivid language that is filled with imagery and metaphors. He says that she is "unintentionally nature's trap" and a musk rose. He also compares her to the goddesses, Venus and Diana. Then as Cyrano sadly talks about his own ugliness, he reveals that he is totally honest about himself. He also expects others to be honest and cannot stand hypocrisy in anyone. As Cyrano describes himself and his beliefs, Rostand is trying to make certain that any antagonism that the audience may have felt at his protagonist's earlier bullying is eliminated. It is important to note the differences between the two lovers of Roxane. Christian, who is extremely handsome, feels he cannot win Roxane because he has no way with words. In ironic contrast, the poetic Cyrano, who has a remarkable way with words, feels he cannot win Roxane because of his ugliness.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/7.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_5_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 1.scene 6

scene 6

{"name": "Scene 6", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano18.asp", "summary": "In this short scene, Roxane's governess enters, bringing a message for Cyrano. Roxane desires to speak to him privately the next morning. Cyrano, overcome with happiness at the thought of talking with his true love, suggests that they meet at Ragueneau's bakery.", "analysis": "Notes In this short scene, the emotions of Cyrano are greatly stirred. When he learns that Roxane wants to talk with him privately the next morning, he believes that perhaps she is interested in him."}

Cyrano, Le Bret, the duenna. THE DUENNA (with a low bow): I was bid ask you where a certain lady Could see her valiant cousin--but in secret. CYRANO (overwhelmed): See me? THE DUENNA (courtesying): Ay, Sir! She has somewhat to tell. CYRANO: Somewhat?. . . THE DUENNA (still courtesying): Ay, private matters! CYRANO (staggering): Ah, my God! THE DUENNA: To-morrow, at the early blush of dawn, We go to hear mass at St. Roch. CYRANO (leaning against Le Bret): My God! THE DUENNA: After--what place for a few minutes' speech? CYRANO (confused): Where? Ah!. . .but. . .Ah, my God!. . . THE DUENNA: Say! CYRANO: I reflect!. . . THE DUENNA: Where? CYRANO: At--the pastry-house of Ragueneau. THE DUENNA: Where lodges he? CYRANO: The Rue--God!--St. Honore! THE DUENNA (going): Good. Be you there. At seven. CYRANO: Without fail. (The duenna goes out.)

Scene 6

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano18.asp

In this short scene, Roxane's governess enters, bringing a message for Cyrano. Roxane desires to speak to him privately the next morning. Cyrano, overcome with happiness at the thought of talking with his true love, suggests that they meet at Ragueneau's bakery.

Notes In this short scene, the emotions of Cyrano are greatly stirred. When he learns that Roxane wants to talk with him privately the next morning, he believes that perhaps she is interested in him.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/8.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_6_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 1.scene 7

scene 7

{"name": "Scene 7", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano19.asp", "summary": "As this scene opens, Cyrano is in a state of frenzied exhilaration because Roxane has acknowledged his existence. He wishes to prove his worth to her by showing his valor. Two gentlemen, Cuigy and Brissaille, enter with the drunken Ligniere, who declares that a hundred men are waiting to attack him. Cyrano offers to offer him protection, by escorting him with a troop of officers. He declares, however, that he will find the attackers alone and unaided. As they prepare to leave, several others join the group, wishing to witness what happens at the Porte de Nesle. When they depart, Cyrano is proudly at the head of the group. He pauses to say that it was necessary to send one hundred men to kill Ligniere because everyone knows he is a friend of his, implying that everyone fears Cyrano.", "analysis": "Notes Scene 7 shows how love spurs men to heroic deeds. Cyrano feels that if he is ever to win Roxane's love, he must convince her that he is brave and valorous. As a result, when Ligniere enters and tells him about the one hundred men who are waiting to attack him, Cyrano, a good swordsman, offers to fight them single- handedly. It will be his opportunity to prove his worth to Roxane. The scene is filled with humor as Cyrano goes forth with excessive show to bravely defend Ligniere in an effort to win the love of Roxane. The scene also ends on a note of suspense. The audience wonders if Cyrano will be successful in defending Ligniere against an attack by one hundred men; they also wonder what Roxane wants to say to him the next morning."}

Cyrano, Le Bret. Then actors, actresses, Cuigy, Brissaille, Ligniere, the porter, the violinists. CYRANO (falling into Le Bret's arms): A rendezvous. . .from her!. . . LE BRET: You're sad no more! CYRANO: Ah! Let the world go burn! She knows I live! LE BRET: Now you'll be calm, I hope? CYRANO (beside himself for joy): Calm? I now calm? I'll be frenetic, frantic,--raving mad! Oh, for an army to attack!--a host! I've ten hearts in my breast; a score of arms; No dwarfs to cleave in twain!. . . (Wildly): No! Giants now! (For a few moments the shadows of the actors have been moving on the stage, whispers are heard--the rehearsal is beginning. The violinists are in their places.) A VOICE FROM THE STAGE: Hollo there! Silence! We rehearse! CYRANO (laughing): We go! (He moves away. By the big door enter Cuigy, Brissaille, and some officers, holding up Ligniere, who is drunk.) CUIGY: Cyrano! CYRANO: Well, what now? CUIGY: A lusty thrush They're bringing you! CYRANO (recognizing him): Ligniere!. . .What has chanced? CUIGY: He seeks you! BRISSAILLE: He dare not go home! CYRANO: Why not? LIGNIERE (in a husky voice, showing him a crumpled letter): This letter warns me. . .that a hundred men. . . Revenge that threatens me. . .that song, you know-- At the Porte de Nesle. To get to my own house I must pass there. . .I dare not!. . .Give me leave To sleep to-night beneath your roof! Allow. . . CYRANO: A hundred men? You'll sleep in your own bed! LIGNIERE (frightened): But-- CYRANO (in a terrible voice, showing him the lighted lantern held by the porter, who is listening curiously): Take the lantern. (Ligniere seizes it): Let us start! I swear That I will make your bed to-night myself! (To the officers): Follow; some stay behind, as witnesses! CUIGY: A hundred!. . . CYRANO: Less, to-night--would be too few! (The actors and actresses, in their costumes, have come down from the stage, and are listening.) LE BRET: But why embroil yourself? CYRANO: Le Bret who scolds! LE BRET: That worthless drunkard!-- CYRANO (slapping Ligniere on the shoulder): Wherefore? For this cause;-- This wine-barrel, this cask of Burgundy, Did, on a day, an action full of grace; As he was leaving church, he saw his love Take holy water--he, who is affeared At water's taste, ran quickly to the stoup, And drank it all, to the last drop!. . . AN ACTRESS: Indeed, that was a graceful thing! CYRANO: Ay, was it not? THE ACTRESS (to the others): But why a hundred men 'gainst one poor rhymer? CYRANO: March! (To the officers): Gentlemen, when you shall see me charge, Bear me no succor, none, whate'er the odds! ANOTHER ACTRESS (jumping from the stage): Oh! I shall come and see! CYRANO: Come, then! ANOTHER (jumping down--to an old actor): And you?. . . CYRANO: Come all--the Doctor, Isabel, Leander, Come, for you shall add, in a motley swarm, The farce Italian to this Spanish drama! ALL THE WOMEN (dancing for joy): Bravo!--a mantle, quick!--my hood! JODELET: Come on! CYRANO: Play us a march, gentlemen of the band! (The violinists join the procession, which is forming. They take the footlights, and divide them for torches): Brave officers! next, women in costume, And, twenty paces on-- (He takes his place): I all alone, Beneath the plume that Glory lends, herself, To deck my beaver--proud as Scipio!. . . --You hear me?--I forbid you succor me!-- One, two three! Porter, open wide the doors! (The porter opens the doors; a view of old Paris in the moonlight is seen): Ah!. . .Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous: The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs; A lovely frame for this wild battle-scene; Beneath the vapor's floating scarves, the Seine Trembles, mysterious, like a magic mirror, And, shortly, you shall see what you shall see! ALL: To the Porte de Nesle! CYRANO (standing on the threshold): Ay, to the Porte de Nesle! (Turning to the actress): Did you not ask, young lady, for what cause Against this rhymer fivescore men were sent? (He draws his sword; then, calmly): 'Twas that they knew him for a friend of mine! (He goes out. Ligniere staggers first after him, then the actresses on the officers' arms--the actors. The procession starts to the sound of the violins and in the faint light of the candles.) Curtain.

Scene 7

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano19.asp

As this scene opens, Cyrano is in a state of frenzied exhilaration because Roxane has acknowledged his existence. He wishes to prove his worth to her by showing his valor. Two gentlemen, Cuigy and Brissaille, enter with the drunken Ligniere, who declares that a hundred men are waiting to attack him. Cyrano offers to offer him protection, by escorting him with a troop of officers. He declares, however, that he will find the attackers alone and unaided. As they prepare to leave, several others join the group, wishing to witness what happens at the Porte de Nesle. When they depart, Cyrano is proudly at the head of the group. He pauses to say that it was necessary to send one hundred men to kill Ligniere because everyone knows he is a friend of his, implying that everyone fears Cyrano.

Notes Scene 7 shows how love spurs men to heroic deeds. Cyrano feels that if he is ever to win Roxane's love, he must convince her that he is brave and valorous. As a result, when Ligniere enters and tells him about the one hundred men who are waiting to attack him, Cyrano, a good swordsman, offers to fight them single- handedly. It will be his opportunity to prove his worth to Roxane. The scene is filled with humor as Cyrano goes forth with excessive show to bravely defend Ligniere in an effort to win the love of Roxane. The scene also ends on a note of suspense. The audience wonders if Cyrano will be successful in defending Ligniere against an attack by one hundred men; they also wonder what Roxane wants to say to him the next morning.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/10.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_7_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 2.scene 1

scene 1

{"name": "Scene 1", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano20.asp", "summary": "The next morning Ragueneau is seen in his pastry shop. He is laboriously composing a poem while supervising his cooks. Lise, his practical wife, enters. She is carrying paper bags, which she made out of the sheets on which Ragueneau's poet friends have written their verses. Since the poets rarely pay for what they eat at the pastry shop, Lise at least wants to make use of the paper that they leave behind. Her husband protests, but Lise ignores him.", "analysis": "Notes As the scene opens in Ragueneau's pastry shop, he is seen trying to write verse while he supervises his cooks. It is clearly obvious that he is an unnatural and limited poet, for he has to count the syllables to get the metrical feet correct. As a result, he greatly values the true poets that visit his shop and treasures the verses that they write and leave for him. Lise, his wife, has no appreciation for poetry. In fact, she takes the sheets on which the poets have written their verse and makes them into paper bags for the customers. She feels the poets who frequent the shop exploit her husband, for they usually fail to pay for what they have eaten. Rageuneau resents that she has no appreciation for poetry. Ragueneau, who is similar to Cyrano in his sensitivity and show, is based upon a historical person, who was also a poet and pastry cook. He was mentioned in Dassoucy's Aventures Burlesques, where he is satirized for being a poet \"in defiance of common sense.\""}

Ragueneau, pastry-cooks, then Lise. Ragueneau is writing, with an inspired air, at a small table, and counting on his fingers. FIRST PASTRY-COOK (bringing in an elaborate fancy dish): Fruits in nougat! SECOND PASTRY-COOK (bringing another dish): Custard! THIRD PASTRY-COOK (bringing a roast, decorated with feathers): Peacock! FOURTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a batch of cakes on a slab): Rissoles! FIFTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a sort of pie-dish): Beef jelly! RAGUENEAU (ceasing to write, and raising his head): Aurora's silver rays begin to glint e'en now on the copper pans, and thou, O Ragueneau! must perforce stifle in thy breast the God of Song! Anon shall come the hour of the lute!--now 'tis the hour of the oven! (He rises. To a cook): You, make that sauce longer, 'tis too short! THE COOK: How much too short? RAGUENEAU: Three feet. (He passes on farther.) THE COOK: What means he? FIRST PASTRY-COOK (showing a dish to Ragueneau): The tart! SECOND PASTRY-COOK: The pie! RAGUENEAU (before the fire): My muse, retire, lest thy bright eyes be reddened by the fagot's blaze! (To a cook, showing him some loaves): You have put the cleft o' th' loaves in the wrong place; know you not that the coesura should be between the hemistiches? (To another, showing him an unfinished pasty): To this palace of paste you must add the roof. . . (To a young apprentice, who, seated on the ground, is spitting the fowls): And you, as you put on your lengthy spit the modest fowl and the superb turkey, my son, alternate them, as the old Malherbe loved well to alternate his long lines of verse with the short ones; thus shall your roasts, in strophes, turn before the flame! ANOTHER APPRENTICE (also coming up with a tray covered by a napkin): Master, I bethought me erewhile of your tastes, and made this, which will please you, I hope. (He uncovers the tray, and shows a large lyre made of pastry.) RAGUENEAU (enchanted): A lyre! THE APPRENTICE: 'Tis of brioche pastry. RAGUENEAU (touched): With conserved fruits. THE APPRENTICE: The strings, see, are of sugar. RAGUENEAU (giving him a coin): Go, drink my health! (Seeing Lise enter): Hush! My wife. Bustle, pass on, and hide that money! (To Lise, showing her the lyre, with a conscious look): Is it not beautiful? LISE: 'Tis passing silly! (She puts a pile of papers on the counter.) 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 1

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano20.asp

The next morning Ragueneau is seen in his pastry shop. He is laboriously composing a poem while supervising his cooks. Lise, his practical wife, enters. She is carrying paper bags, which she made out of the sheets on which Ragueneau's poet friends have written their verses. Since the poets rarely pay for what they eat at the pastry shop, Lise at least wants to make use of the paper that they leave behind. Her husband protests, but Lise ignores him.

Notes As the scene opens in Ragueneau's pastry shop, he is seen trying to write verse while he supervises his cooks. It is clearly obvious that he is an unnatural and limited poet, for he has to count the syllables to get the metrical feet correct. As a result, he greatly values the true poets that visit his shop and treasures the verses that they write and leave for him. Lise, his wife, has no appreciation for poetry. In fact, she takes the sheets on which the poets have written their verse and makes them into paper bags for the customers. She feels the poets who frequent the shop exploit her husband, for they usually fail to pay for what they have eaten. Rageuneau resents that she has no appreciation for poetry. Ragueneau, who is similar to Cyrano in his sensitivity and show, is based upon a historical person, who was also a poet and pastry cook. He was mentioned in Dassoucy's Aventures Burlesques, where he is satirized for being a poet "in defiance of common sense."

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/11.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_8_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 2.scene 2

scene 2

{"name": "Scene 2", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano21.asp", "summary": "Two children enter the pastry shop and purchase some pastries. Ragueneau is reluctant to pack them in the bags with poetry on them, but Lise insists. While she is occupied elsewhere, he calls the children back and offers them free pastries in exchange for the bag with a poem on it. The children agree to the bargain.", "analysis": "Notes In this short scene, the character of Ragueneau is further developed. He is crushed when his practical wife insists that he wrap the pastries purchased by two children with the sheets of poetry. Since Lise is the strong, domineering one in the family, he reluctantly follows her orders. However, as soon as she is out of sight, Ragueneau calls the children back and gives them free pastries in exchange for the sheets of poetry. The fact that Rostand devotes two scenes at the beginning of Act II to Ragueneau is significant. He will become a constant character in the play, appearing and re-appearing, as he tries to befriend Cyrano, whom he greatly admires. His pastry shop is also important, for it is the meeting place of poets; more importantly, it is the place where Roxane and Cyrano are to meet."}

The same. Two children, who have just trotted into the shop. RAGUENEAU: What would you, little ones? 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

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano21.asp

Two children enter the pastry shop and purchase some pastries. Ragueneau is reluctant to pack them in the bags with poetry on them, but Lise insists. While she is occupied elsewhere, he calls the children back and offers them free pastries in exchange for the bag with a poem on it. The children agree to the bargain.

Notes In this short scene, the character of Ragueneau is further developed. He is crushed when his practical wife insists that he wrap the pastries purchased by two children with the sheets of poetry. Since Lise is the strong, domineering one in the family, he reluctantly follows her orders. However, as soon as she is out of sight, Ragueneau calls the children back and gives them free pastries in exchange for the sheets of poetry. The fact that Rostand devotes two scenes at the beginning of Act II to Ragueneau is significant. He will become a constant character in the play, appearing and re-appearing, as he tries to befriend Cyrano, whom he greatly admires. His pastry shop is also important, for it is the meeting place of poets; more importantly, it is the place where Roxane and Cyrano are to meet.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/12.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_9_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 2.scene 3

scene 3

{"name": "Scene 3", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano22.asp", "summary": "This scene opens with Cyrano's arrival at the bakery for his meeting with Roxane. Upon his entry, Ragueneau is distracted from the paper bags covered with verse. He praises Cyrano for his duel that was fought while composing a ballad. Cyrano asks Ragueneau to let him use the shop as a private meeting place. The baker agrees to the plan reluctantly, for it is the hour when his poets usually arrive. While waiting nervously for Roxane, Cyrano writes a love letter to give to Roxane, while Lise entertains a musketeer who has entered the shop.", "analysis": "Notes In this scene, the kindness and generosity of Ragueneau are highlighted. Cyrano arrives at his bakery and asks Ragueneau if he can use the shop as a private meeting place. The baker agrees even though it means he will not be able to enjoy the company of the poets during the entire morning. It is clear that poetry is an obsession for Ragueneau. Not only does he try to compose verse himself, he truly enjoys hearing the verse of others. He particularly praises Cyrano for reciting an original ballad while fighting a duel with Valvert."}

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.) 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!. . . RAGUENEAU (giving him the one from behind his ear): Here--a 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 wife--a terrible warrior--at 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): Ay--a 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 3

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano22.asp

This scene opens with Cyrano's arrival at the bakery for his meeting with Roxane. Upon his entry, Ragueneau is distracted from the paper bags covered with verse. He praises Cyrano for his duel that was fought while composing a ballad. Cyrano asks Ragueneau to let him use the shop as a private meeting place. The baker agrees to the plan reluctantly, for it is the hour when his poets usually arrive. While waiting nervously for Roxane, Cyrano writes a love letter to give to Roxane, while Lise entertains a musketeer who has entered the shop.

Notes In this scene, the kindness and generosity of Ragueneau are highlighted. Cyrano arrives at his bakery and asks Ragueneau if he can use the shop as a private meeting place. The baker agrees even though it means he will not be able to enjoy the company of the poets during the entire morning. It is clear that poetry is an obsession for Ragueneau. Not only does he try to compose verse himself, he truly enjoys hearing the verse of others. He particularly praises Cyrano for reciting an original ballad while fighting a duel with Valvert.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/13.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_10_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 2.scene 4

scene 4

{"name": "Scene 4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano23.asp", "summary": "Several poets arrive at the bakery. They are talking about the fight that took place at the Porte de Nesle. During the fight, eight people were wounded by a single swordsman, whose identity is unknown. Cyrano pays the poets little attention. He is completely absorbed in writing his love letter and thinking about his meeting with Roxane. He can hardly believe that he is actually going to meet with her and constantly asks what time it is, worrying about the nearness of her arrival. The poets stuff themselves with pastry, for which they do not pay, and encourage Ragueneau to read his Almond Tart recipe in verse. Although he knows he is exploited by the poets, Ragueneau enjoys their company and tries to accommodate them. The moral Cyrano watches the actions of Lise as she flirts with the musketeer and warns her about deceiving Ragueneau. He then signals the baker to drive the poets away from the shop, for it is time for Roxane to arrive.", "analysis": "Notes This scene helps to develop the character of Cyrano as a moral man. When he sees Lise flirting with a musketeer, he is bothered by her actions; therefore, he interrupts and warns her about deceiving her husband. Cyrano is also shown as a modest man. Although it was not seen on stage, the audience learns from the poets at Ragueneau's bakery that the fight at Porte de Nesle took place the previous night. They talk about the fact that an unidentified swordsman single handedly wounded eight people during the encounter. Even when he hears the amazed poets speaking about the prowess of the swordsman, the unassuming Cyrano does not let his identity be known. Cyrano is also portrayed as a nervous man. He is so excited about meeting with Roxane that he can hardly hold still. Worrying about her arrival, he constantly asks about the time. He then signals Ragueneau to drive the poets out of the bakery, for it is almost time for her appearance. Cyrano's nervousness and Ragueneau's recipe in verse both lend humor to the scene."}

Ragueneau, Lise, the musketeer. Cyrano at the little table writing. The poets, dressed in black, their stockings ungartered, and covered with mud. LISE (entering, to Ragueneau): Here they come, your mud-bespattered friends! FIRST POET (entering, to Ragueneau): Brother in art!. . . SECOND POET (to Ragueneau, shaking his hands): Dear brother! THIRD POET: High soaring eagle among pastry-cooks! (He sniffs): Marry! it smells good here in your eyrie! FOURTH POET: 'Tis at Phoebus' own rays that thy roasts turn! FIFTH POET: Apollo among master-cooks-- RAGUENEAU (whom they surround and embrace): Ah! how quick a man feels at his ease with them!. . . FIRST POET: We were stayed by the mob; they are crowded all round the Porte de Nesle!. . . SECOND POET: Eight bleeding brigand carcasses strew the pavements there--all slit open with sword-gashes! CYRANO (raising his head a minute): Eight?. . .hold, methought seven. (He goes on writing.) RAGUENEAU (to Cyrano): Know you who might be the hero of the fray? CYRANO (carelessly): Not I. LISE (to the musketeer): And you? Know you? THE MUSKETEER (twirling his mustache): Maybe! CYRANO (writing a little way off:--he is heard murmuring a word from time to time): 'I love thee!' FIRST POET: 'Twas one man, say they all, ay, swear to it, one man who, single-handed, put the whole band to the rout! SECOND POET: 'Twas a strange sight!--pikes and cudgels strewed thick upon the ground. CYRANO (writing): . . .'Thine eyes'. . . THIRD POET: And they were picking up hats all the way to the Quai d'Orfevres! FIRST POET: Sapristi! but he must have been a ferocious. . . CYRANO (same play): . . .'Thy lips'. . . FIRST POET: 'Twas a parlous fearsome giant that was the author of such exploits! CYRANO (same play): . . .'And when I see thee come, I faint for fear.' SECOND POET (filching a cake): What hast rhymed of late, Ragueneau? CYRANO (same play): . . .'Who worships thee'. . . (He stops, just as he is about to sign, and gets up, slipping the letter into his doublet): No need I sign, since I give it her myself. RAGUENEAU (to second poet): I have put a recipe into verse. THIRD POET (seating himself by a plate of cream-puffs): Go to! Let us hear these verses! FOURTH POET (looking at a cake which he has taken): Its cap is all a' one side! (He makes one bite of the top.) FIRST POET: See how this gingerbread woos the famished rhymer with its almond eyes, and its eyebrows of angelica! (He takes it.) SECOND POET: We listen. THIRD POET (squeezing a cream-puff gently): How it laughs! Till its very cream runs over! SECOND POET (biting a bit off the great lyre of pastry): This is the first time in my life that ever I drew any means of nourishing me from the lyre! RAGUENEAU (who has put himself ready for reciting, cleared his throat, settled his cap, struck an attitude): A recipe in verse!. . . 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 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 so--mark me, Dame Lise--I 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 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 4

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano23.asp

Several poets arrive at the bakery. They are talking about the fight that took place at the Porte de Nesle. During the fight, eight people were wounded by a single swordsman, whose identity is unknown. Cyrano pays the poets little attention. He is completely absorbed in writing his love letter and thinking about his meeting with Roxane. He can hardly believe that he is actually going to meet with her and constantly asks what time it is, worrying about the nearness of her arrival. The poets stuff themselves with pastry, for which they do not pay, and encourage Ragueneau to read his Almond Tart recipe in verse. Although he knows he is exploited by the poets, Ragueneau enjoys their company and tries to accommodate them. The moral Cyrano watches the actions of Lise as she flirts with the musketeer and warns her about deceiving Ragueneau. He then signals the baker to drive the poets away from the shop, for it is time for Roxane to arrive.

Notes This scene helps to develop the character of Cyrano as a moral man. When he sees Lise flirting with a musketeer, he is bothered by her actions; therefore, he interrupts and warns her about deceiving her husband. Cyrano is also shown as a modest man. Although it was not seen on stage, the audience learns from the poets at Ragueneau's bakery that the fight at Porte de Nesle took place the previous night. They talk about the fact that an unidentified swordsman single handedly wounded eight people during the encounter. Even when he hears the amazed poets speaking about the prowess of the swordsman, the unassuming Cyrano does not let his identity be known. Cyrano is also portrayed as a nervous man. He is so excited about meeting with Roxane that he can hardly hold still. Worrying about her arrival, he constantly asks about the time. He then signals Ragueneau to drive the poets out of the bakery, for it is almost time for her appearance. Cyrano's nervousness and Ragueneau's recipe in verse both lend humor to the scene.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/14.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_11_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 2.scene 5

scene 5

{"name": "Scene 5", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano24.asp", "summary": "After the bakery has been cleared, Roxane arrives with her governess. Wanting to be totally alone with her, Cyrano packs pastries into one of Lise's paper bags with poetry and sends the governess out to eat them. He then expresses to Roxane his pleasure over her acknowledgement of his existence. She, in turn, thanks him for ridding her of Valvert. Cyrano is delighted to learn that the duel served a purpose other than defending his nose. Roxane warmly recalls the childhood friendship she had with Cyrano, her cousin. She then goes on to confess that she is in love. Cyrano dares to think that she has come to confess her love for him. As he is feeling elated, she dashes his hopes, for she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. She also states that he is a cadet in Cyrano's regiment with whom she has only exchanged glances; however, she has heard that he loves her. Cyrano warns her that the man may be an uncultured brute, but Roxane is convinced otherwise. The naive Roxane responds that no one with such lovely hair could be a brute. At first Cyrano fails to understand the reason for Roxane confiding in him. She then, however, explains that she wants Cyrano's help. The young man is an outsider who has just joined the Gascon regiment. She wants Cyrano to protect him from the other hot- headed, quarrelsome Gascons. The kind-hearted Cyrano agrees to defend the cadet, even though it will be hard for him to do so. Satisfied that her mission has been accomplished, Roxane leaves the bakery. As she walks away, she realizes that she is torn between admiration for Cyrano, who has just fought a hundred men single-handedly, and admiration for the handsome cadet.", "analysis": "Notes The suspense about the reason for Roxane wanting to meet with Cyrano is answered in these scenes. When she arrives at the bakery, she greets Cyrano warmly and talks about their childhood friendship with emotion. She then confesses to Cyrano that she is in love with a man who does not realize her affections. Cyrano dares to think that Roxane is talking about him. Roxane is not trying to be mean or play the coquette. She has no idea that Cyrano is in love with her. She cannot know that he is misinterpreting everything she says. The truth dawns on him, however, when she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. Cyrano knows that she cannot be speaking of him. She then asks for Cyrano's help. She wants him to protect the cadet in his regiment since he is new to the Gascons and may be mistreated by the more experienced cadets. Although he is shocked and disappointed, the kind Cyrano promises to watch out for him. Although Roxane has no clue that Cyrano is in love with her, when she leaves the bakery she thinks about her admiration for him. Not only has he agreed to protect her cadet, he has also saved her from Valvert and single-handedly wounded eight men in order to protect Ligniere."}

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.)

Scene 5

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano24.asp

After the bakery has been cleared, Roxane arrives with her governess. Wanting to be totally alone with her, Cyrano packs pastries into one of Lise's paper bags with poetry and sends the governess out to eat them. He then expresses to Roxane his pleasure over her acknowledgement of his existence. She, in turn, thanks him for ridding her of Valvert. Cyrano is delighted to learn that the duel served a purpose other than defending his nose. Roxane warmly recalls the childhood friendship she had with Cyrano, her cousin. She then goes on to confess that she is in love. Cyrano dares to think that she has come to confess her love for him. As he is feeling elated, she dashes his hopes, for she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. She also states that he is a cadet in Cyrano's regiment with whom she has only exchanged glances; however, she has heard that he loves her. Cyrano warns her that the man may be an uncultured brute, but Roxane is convinced otherwise. The naive Roxane responds that no one with such lovely hair could be a brute. At first Cyrano fails to understand the reason for Roxane confiding in him. She then, however, explains that she wants Cyrano's help. The young man is an outsider who has just joined the Gascon regiment. She wants Cyrano to protect him from the other hot- headed, quarrelsome Gascons. The kind-hearted Cyrano agrees to defend the cadet, even though it will be hard for him to do so. Satisfied that her mission has been accomplished, Roxane leaves the bakery. As she walks away, she realizes that she is torn between admiration for Cyrano, who has just fought a hundred men single-handedly, and admiration for the handsome cadet.

Notes The suspense about the reason for Roxane wanting to meet with Cyrano is answered in these scenes. When she arrives at the bakery, she greets Cyrano warmly and talks about their childhood friendship with emotion. She then confesses to Cyrano that she is in love with a man who does not realize her affections. Cyrano dares to think that Roxane is talking about him. Roxane is not trying to be mean or play the coquette. She has no idea that Cyrano is in love with her. She cannot know that he is misinterpreting everything she says. The truth dawns on him, however, when she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. Cyrano knows that she cannot be speaking of him. She then asks for Cyrano's help. She wants him to protect the cadet in his regiment since he is new to the Gascons and may be mistreated by the more experienced cadets. Although he is shocked and disappointed, the kind Cyrano promises to watch out for him. Although Roxane has no clue that Cyrano is in love with her, when she leaves the bakery she thinks about her admiration for him. Not only has he agreed to protect her cadet, he has also saved her from Valvert and single-handedly wounded eight men in order to protect Ligniere.

pinkmonkey

all_chapterized_books/1254-chapters/15.txt

finished_summaries/pinkmonkey/Cyrano De Bergerac/section_12_part_0.txt

Cyrano De Bergerac.act 2.scene 6

scene 6

{"name": "Scene 6", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano24.asp", "summary": "After the bakery has been cleared, Roxane arrives with her governess. Wanting to be totally alone with her, Cyrano packs pastries into one of Lise's paper bags with poetry and sends the governess out to eat them. He then expresses to Roxane his pleasure over her acknowledgement of his existence. She, in turn, thanks him for ridding her of Valvert. Cyrano is delighted to learn that the duel served a purpose other than defending his nose. Roxane warmly recalls the childhood friendship she had with Cyrano, her cousin. She then goes on to confess that she is in love. Cyrano dares to think that she has come to confess her love for him. As he is feeling elated, she dashes his hopes, for she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. She also states that he is a cadet in Cyrano's regiment with whom she has only exchanged glances; however, she has heard that he loves her. Cyrano warns her that the man may be an uncultured brute, but Roxane is convinced otherwise. The naive Roxane responds that no one with such lovely hair could be a brute. At first Cyrano fails to understand the reason for Roxane confiding in him. She then, however, explains that she wants Cyrano's help. The young man is an outsider who has just joined the Gascon regiment. She wants Cyrano to protect him from the other hot- headed, quarrelsome Gascons. The kind-hearted Cyrano agrees to defend the cadet, even though it will be hard for him to do so. Satisfied that her mission has been accomplished, Roxane leaves the bakery. As she walks away, she realizes that she is torn between admiration for Cyrano, who has just fought a hundred men single-handedly, and admiration for the handsome cadet.", "analysis": "Notes The suspense about the reason for Roxane wanting to meet with Cyrano is answered in these scenes. When she arrives at the bakery, she greets Cyrano warmly and talks about their childhood friendship with emotion. She then confesses to Cyrano that she is in love with a man who does not realize her affections. Cyrano dares to think that Roxane is talking about him. Roxane is not trying to be mean or play the coquette. She has no idea that Cyrano is in love with her. She cannot know that he is misinterpreting everything she says. The truth dawns on him, however, when she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. Cyrano knows that she cannot be speaking of him. She then asks for Cyrano's help. She wants him to protect the cadet in his regiment since he is new to the Gascons and may be mistreated by the more experienced cadets. Although he is shocked and disappointed, the kind Cyrano promises to watch out for him. Although Roxane has no clue that Cyrano is in love with her, when she leaves the bakery she thinks about her admiration for him. Not only has he agreed to protect her cadet, he has also saved her from Valvert and single-handedly wounded eight men in order to protect Ligniere."}

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 favor--but 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! Then--aping 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 it--playing at the Porte de Nesle. 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: And tell me, while I wipe away the blood, How many 'gainst you? CYRANO: Oh! A hundred--near. ROXANE: Come, tell me! CYRANO: No, let be. But you, come tell The thing, just now, you dared not. . . ROXANE (keeping his hand): Now, I dare! The scent of those old days emboldens me! Yes, now I dare. Listen. I am in love. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: But with one who knows not. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: Not yet. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: But who, if he knows not, soon shall learn. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: A poor youth who all this time has loved Timidly, from afar, and dares not speak. . . CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: Leave your hand; why, it is fever-hot!-- But I have seen love trembling on his lips. CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE (bandaging his hand with her handkerchief): And to think of it! that he by chance-- Yes, cousin, he is of your regiment! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE (laughing): --Is cadet in your own company! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: On his brow he bears the genius-stamp; He is proud, noble, young, intrepid, fair. . . CYRANO (rising suddenly, very pale): Fair! ROXANE: Why, what ails you? CYRANO: Nothing; 'tis. . . (He shows his hand, smiling): This scratch! ROXANE: I love him; all is said. But you must know I have only seen him at the Comedy. . . CYRANO: How? You have never spoken? ROXANE: Eyes can speak. CYRANO: How know you then that he. . .? ROXANE: Oh! people talk 'Neath the limes in the Place Royale. . . Gossip's chat Has let me know. . . CYRANO: He is cadet? ROXANE: In the Guards. CYRANO: His name? ROXANE: Baron Christian de Neuvillette. CYRANO: How now?. . .He is not of the Guards! ROXANE: To-day He is not join your ranks, under Captain Carbon de Castel-Jaloux. CYRANO: Ah, how quick, How quick the heart has flown!. . .But, my poor child. . . THE DUENNA (opening the door): The cakes are eaten, Monsieur Bergerac! CYRANO: Then read the verses printed on the bags! (She goes out): . . .My poor child, you who love but flowing words, Bright wit,--what if he be a lout unskilled? ROXANE: No, his bright locks, like D'Urfe's heroes. . . CYRANO: Ah! A well-curled pate, and witless tongue, perchance! ROXANE: Ah no! I guess--I feel--his words are fair! CYRANO: All words are fair that lurk 'neath fair mustache! --Suppose he were a fool!. . . ROXANE (stamping her foot): Then bury me! CYRANO (after a pause): Was it to tell me this you brought me here? I fail to see what use this serves, Madame. ROXANE: Nay, but I felt a terror, here, in the heart, On learning yesterday you were Gascons All of your company. . . CYRANO: And we provoke All beardless sprigs that favor dares admit 'Midst us pure Gascons--(pure! Heaven save the mark! They told you that as well? ROXANE: Ah! Think how I Trembled for him! CYRANO (between his teeth): Not causelessly! ROXANE: But when Last night I saw you,--brave, invincible,-- Punish that dandy, fearless hold your own Against those brutes, I thought--I thought, if he Whom all fear, all--if he would only. . . CYRANO: Good. I will befriend your little Baron. ROXANE: Ah! You'll promise me you will do this for me? I've always held you as a tender friend. CYRANO: Ay, ay. ROXANE: Then you will be his friend? CYRANO: I swear! ROXANE: And he shall fight no duels, promise! CYRANO: None. ROXANE: You are kind, cousin! Now I must be gone. (She puts on her mask and veil quickly; then, absently): You have not told me of your last night's fray. Ah, but it must have been a hero-fight!. . . --Bid him to write. (She sends him a kiss with her fingers): How good you are! CYRANO: Ay! Ay! ROXANE: A hundred men against you? Now, farewell.-- We are great friends? CYRANO: Ay, ay! ROXANE: Oh, bid him write! You'll tell me all one day--A hundred men!-- Ah, brave!. . .How brave! CYRANO (bowing to her): I have fought better since. (She goes out. Cyrano stands motionless, with eyes on the ground. A silence. The door (right) opens. Ragueneau looks in.)

Scene 6

https://web.archive.org/web/20180820053313/http://www.pinkmonkey.com/booknotes/monkeynotes/pmCyrano24.asp

After the bakery has been cleared, Roxane arrives with her governess. Wanting to be totally alone with her, Cyrano packs pastries into one of Lise's paper bags with poetry and sends the governess out to eat them. He then expresses to Roxane his pleasure over her acknowledgement of his existence. She, in turn, thanks him for ridding her of Valvert. Cyrano is delighted to learn that the duel served a purpose other than defending his nose. Roxane warmly recalls the childhood friendship she had with Cyrano, her cousin. She then goes on to confess that she is in love. Cyrano dares to think that she has come to confess her love for him. As he is feeling elated, she dashes his hopes, for she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. She also states that he is a cadet in Cyrano's regiment with whom she has only exchanged glances; however, she has heard that he loves her. Cyrano warns her that the man may be an uncultured brute, but Roxane is convinced otherwise. The naive Roxane responds that no one with such lovely hair could be a brute. At first Cyrano fails to understand the reason for Roxane confiding in him. She then, however, explains that she wants Cyrano's help. The young man is an outsider who has just joined the Gascon regiment. She wants Cyrano to protect him from the other hot- headed, quarrelsome Gascons. The kind-hearted Cyrano agrees to defend the cadet, even though it will be hard for him to do so. Satisfied that her mission has been accomplished, Roxane leaves the bakery. As she walks away, she realizes that she is torn between admiration for Cyrano, who has just fought a hundred men single-handedly, and admiration for the handsome cadet.

Notes The suspense about the reason for Roxane wanting to meet with Cyrano is answered in these scenes. When she arrives at the bakery, she greets Cyrano warmly and talks about their childhood friendship with emotion. She then confesses to Cyrano that she is in love with a man who does not realize her affections. Cyrano dares to think that Roxane is talking about him. Roxane is not trying to be mean or play the coquette. She has no idea that Cyrano is in love with her. She cannot know that he is misinterpreting everything she says. The truth dawns on him, however, when she says that the man she loves is extremely handsome. Cyrano knows that she cannot be speaking of him. She then asks for Cyrano's help. She wants him to protect the cadet in his regiment since he is new to the Gascons and may be mistreated by the more experienced cadets. Although he is shocked and disappointed, the kind Cyrano promises to watch out for him. Although Roxane has no clue that Cyrano is in love with her, when she leaves the bakery she thinks about her admiration for him. Not only has he agreed to protect her cadet, he has also saved her from Valvert and single-handedly wounded eight men in order to protect Ligniere.