Cyrano de Bergerac Page #6

Here, on my doublet

a hair from a comet's tail!

I slipped by Neptune's fork...

and fell onto Libra's scales.

See? They point to my weight!

Go to hell, sir!

By heaven, do you doubt my word?

He's here!

Oh, my God!

Hurry father!

Why should we hurry a prayer.

That's enough!

Take that off!

My mask!

No more mask!

I'll tell you about the moon

and the inhabitants of its rotundity.

Can you tell how I got there

by means lighter than air?

Guess!

He's a madman.

The tide!

The moon pulls the sea so wide!

I lay on the sand after a dip.

The moon had my head in its grip

for the air holds water in.

I rose straight up in the air

like a cherubim.

I know that voice!

I must be drunk!

Fifteen minutes are over

I'll let you go.

The wedding's done.

Open up, it's Cyrano!

They've just exchanged rings.

A fine couple, my son, tanks to you.

Take leave of your husband.

What?

Your regiment's about to go.

For war?

Doubtless.

Not the cadets.

They're going.

Here's the order.

Run and deliver it, baron.

Obey, sir!

What are you waiting for?

Hurry up.

The wedding night can wait!

My sorrow is not as great

as he believes.

You're leaving too!

Promise me

you'll keep him out of danger.

I'll try...

Make sure he doesn't catch cold.

I'll do my best.

Make him faithful.

Well...

Make him write to me.

That, I can promise.

Wounded?

No. They're used to missing me

every morning.

You're mad to risk death

every day for a letter.

I promised he'd write.

But don't tell him.

If she knew he's starving...

but still handsome.

Go and sleep.

Don't grumble. I told you:

I cross the Spanish lines

when they're drunk.

You could bring back food.

I can't. I have to travel light.

We, the besiegers, are now the besieged

The shame of it!

Will you get some sleep?

When I finish.

What?

Another letter.

Calm down, lads!

Stop it! That's enough!

What is it?

They're hungry.

So am I.

My ears are rumbling.

Your stomach has no ears!

Richelieu feasts in Paris.

Send for a partridge.

I'll have veal!

Stewed mutton!

Braised beef!

Black pudding!

Duck pate!

Beans!

Pancakes!

With ham and mushrooms!

I'm hungry!

Food! That's all you think about.

Come here, Bertrandou

shepherd that you were.

Play a tune from back home, just for me

A tune to set memories free.

Listen, Gascons...

with the pipe to his mouth

he takes us... back to the South!

It's he tune the goatherd fingers

The hill where mist still lingers

Listen...

There's the glade

the heath, the forest way...

The little shepherd with his red beret.

The green of spring on the Dordogne.

Listen, Gascons.

It is all Gascogne.

You're making them cry.

Homesickness! A nobler hunger...

than the hunger of the flesh!

You'll weaken them.

Really?

See? A roll on the drums is enough.

Alas, a Gascon.

A false one.

Gascons are supposed to be mad.

A sane Gascon is dangerous.

He's pale.

He's hungry, poor devil.

He's not suffering though!

Take your cards, peipes and dice.

I'll read Descartes.

He's green.

Skin and bones.

I'm mocked here. I know it, gentlemen.

You southern petty seigneurs

have no respect for commanders.

Enough! I scorn your renown.

My battle tactics are known.

Yesterday with my men...

I charged three times.

And your scarf?

You heard then?

At the third charge

I was forced towards enemy lines.

I was in danger of being musketted.

When I had the idea

of dropping the scarf...

showing my rank.

Thus, I was able, unnoticed

to leave the Spaniards

attack again and beat them with my men.

What do you say to that?

That Henri IV would never

against such odds, have let fall

his white panache.

The attack was a success.

But you gave up

the honour of being a target.

Had I been there

but our courage is different

I'd have taken the scarf up myself.

A vain Gascon boast!

A boast?

Lend it to me

and I'll charge with it tonight.

A vain offer.

You know the scarf was left

in the gun-blasted enemy sector.

Where no one...

can fetch it!

Here it is.

Thank you!

I can give the signal

I was reluctant to send.

Who is it?

A Spaniard, my spy

who'll tell them by and by.

He's most useful and, indeed...

this very night, I'll lead

my men to Dourlens for supplies.

You will stay.

But the Spanish...

They know. And at dawn... they'll attack

Hold them back for us an hour or two.

But to do that...

Kindly lay down your lives.

So this is revenge?

Take it to mean

I serve my king and vent my spleen.

Thanks for such candour.

You fight a hundred single-handed.

You should be delighted.

Gascony cadets, farewell.

What's that?

Nothing.

You're lying. Show me.

Really?

Yes, show me!

It's your final letter.

To Roxane?

Who else?

Oh yes!

You've a winged messenger?

You can cross as far as Vimy.

Impossible.

You've been?

Yes... At night.

Often?

More than you think.

Every day?

Answer me!

Yes, every day.

Twice.

It so excites you, you risk death...

For you.

No! For her!

You never told me!

I understand...

You don't. You're wrong, Christian.

What's that circle?

A circle?

It's a tear!

The poet charms himself.

This letter, it was so moving.

I cried as I wrote it.

Where are you going?

We need a gun.

Take Le Bret and four or five men.

Where are you going?

Vimy.

He's mad.

During mass, we'll steal their food.

We'll die, but not of hunger.

Take this.

Hey, it's hot!

We've got the roast.

Coming?

Go without me.

How did you get here?

Via Vimy and the forest.

Madness!

The siege is so long.

You can't stay.

Why not?

He's right. Don't stay.

Spain is coming this way.

Let's fight!

You must go.

I want to see a battle.

I'm hungry.

The air is sharp.

What is there to eat?

Chicken, wine and pies.

Could you bring me that?

We have none.

All right.

Quail, trout, ham... Anything.

But where from?

My coach.

We must serve and carve.

I have a valued man with me.

Go closer, gentlemen go and see.

The bundles...

are full of partridges! Catch!

Each case is a little larder.

Red or white wine?

Please Have a little bread and wine.

Why are you crying?

It's too good.

Is our precieuse a heroine?

Monsieur de Bergerac, I am your cousin.

Where are the cadets?

Unbelievable! Have they deserted?

To your stations!

What's wrong with you?

It's the though of battle.

They're drunk!

Who? Us?

Get up! Battle stations!

Thank you, sir...

So kind...

What have they drunk? They're all mad!

Shoulder arms! Attention!

Greetings monsieur De Guiche.

There they are!

Leave at once!

Never!

Will you stay?

Very well. Bring me a musket.

What?

This lady is in danger!

Give him something to eat!

Food?

We've all had some.

I won't eat your leftovers!

You're improving.

I'll fight hungry.

Hear that Gascon accent?

Me?

He's one of us!

Stay here.

Where are you going?

Wait for me.

Why did you come?

Your letters.

A few words...

Quiet. You wrote so many.

Beautiful ones, deny it you might.

God, I love you since that night

when, in a voice unknown...

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