COCARDASSE: Have no fear. We’re going to give you all that, my pretties.
(taking a jug and breaking it over Carrigue’s head) These gentlemen are served.
CARRIGUE & HIS MEN: Forward! Lagardère! Lagardère!
(Cocardasse and Passepoil let their swords fall)
COCARDASSE Down with your weapons everybody!
PASSEPOIL: What was it you said?
COCARDASSE: Whose name did you utter?
STAUPITZ: We were going to gobble them up like sparrows.
COCARDASSE: Peace! Why did you shout Lagardère?
CARRIGUE: Because Lagardère is our captain.
COCARDASSE: The Chevalier Henri de Lagardère?
CARRIGUE: Yes.
COCARDASSE: Our Parisian?
PASSEPOIL: Our jewel?
COCARDASSE: One moment; no confusion. We left Lagardère in Paris, Light Cavalry-Man of the King.
CARRIGUE: Yes, but he was bored being a light cavalry man. All he’s kept is the uniform and he commands a company of royal volunteers here in the valley.
COCARDESSE: Then stop, swords in scabbards. Long live God! Friends of the Parisian and ours, and we are all going to drink together to the first blade in the universe! To table!
ALL: To table!
COCARDASSE: Hey! I don’t feel any joy! Wine. (to Passepoil) Hang on! (to Carrigue) I have the honor of presenting to you my apprentice, Passepoil, who—be it said without offending you, is going to demonstrate to you a maneuver of which you haven’t the least notion. (Passepoil bows)
PASSEPOIL: My noble friend, Cocardasse Junior, the most humble admirer, after myself of Mr. de Lagardère.
COCARDASSE: And I boast of it, sonofabitch! It’s I who gave him his first lesson in arms. Ah! He gave me promise, but Jove, how he turned out!
A CHEVALIER: (to Carrigue) Hey, Commandant, look down there!
CARRIGUE: By God, it’s that little wise guy who got our horses breathless in his pursuit. He’s going to pass under this window. Grab him and bring him here. (Two men leave) This domain of Caylus is near Rambouillet where Mr. d’Orléans often hunts. And this little fellow could be a poacher.
(The Page is brought in by two cavaliers)
CARRIGUE: Come here, little wise guy.
COCARDASSE : Have no fear. We won’t skin you alive.
PASSEPOIL: He’s nice this little fellow. He belongs to some lady. Let’s see, little one, to whom are you taking a love letter?
PAGE: Me? I’m not taking anything.
PASSEPOIL: Who do you serve?
PAGE: I don’t serve anyone.
COCARDASSE: Damn it! Do you think we have time to play at guessing games? Come on, by Jove, let him be searched.
PAGE: (pulling a dagger) Don’t touch me!
COCARDASSE: Ah, you bite, little wolf-cub! (They surround the page, knock him down and begin searching him. Lagardère appears, violently pushes Cocardasse to one side and on the other Passepoil who rolls onto his companions.)
COCARDASSE: Sonofabitch!
PASSEPOIL: Cunt! (recognizing Lagardère) Heaven!
COCARDASSE: Great God!
PASSEPOIL: The Parisian!
COCARDASSE: Lagardère!
ALL: (bowing with respect) Captain Lagardère—
LAGARDÈRE: What the devil are you doing so far from the street of Croix des Petits Champs, my two masters?
COCARDASSE: Formerly, but today your servants, O great man.
PASSEPOIL: Your slaves.
LAGARDÈRE And this one? (pointing to Staupitz) I’ve seen him somewhere!
STAUPITZ: At Strasbourg, Captain (rubbing his shoulder) I recall it.
LAGARDÈRE: Staupitz, isn’t it? Ah, ah! Jouel! Saldagne, Pinto. We met at Bayenne, I think? And Matador Faenza—I recognize you all and you all bear my marks. (to Page) Come here, child, tell me what you are doing in this inn?
PAGE: I’m coming to bring a letter, Captain.
LAGARDÈRE: To whom?
PAGE: To you.
LAGARDÈRE: To me? Give it to me.
PAGE: (low) I had another one for a lady and I really wanted—
LAGARDÈRE: (tossing him his purse) Go, little one. No one will disturb you. My volunteers will escort you.
PAGE: Thanks, Captain (leaves with others)
LAGARDÈRE: (opening the letter as everyone comes close to him) Make room. I prefer to open my correspondence alone. (the others move away, hats down) By Heaven! He’s a true gentleman, this Nevers.
ALL: Nevers!
LAGARDÈRE: (seated in Cocardasse’s place) Something to drink, first of all. My heart is content. I have to tell you I am exiled.
COCARDASSE: Exiled!
PASSEPOIL: You!
LAGARDÈRE: Eh, my God, yes! Do you know that huge devil of a Belissen?
COCARDASSE: Baron Belissen?
PASSEPOIL: Belissen the Duelist?
LAGARDÈRE: The deceased Belissen.
COCARDASSE: He’s dead?
LAGARDÈRE: Naturally, since I killed him. He wanted to play insults with me, and that displeased me, and as I promised His Majesty when he deigned to create me a knight, not to cast injurious words at anyone, I pulled his ears. That was not to his taste.
COCARDASSE: I believe it.
LAGARDÈRE: He said so to me very loudly—and behind the Arsenal I gave him a straight goodbye blow—to the depths.
COCARDASSE: (forgetting himself) Ah, rogue! How well you stretched him out. That blow—
LAGARDÈRE: (rising) To whom are you speaking?
COCARDASSE: (bowing) Ah, pardon, pardon!
LAGARDÈRE: There’s justice. They owe me the best since I beat a wolf-head! They exiled me, but I swore that I won’t cross the frontier without allowing myself a last fantasy. (he raps on the letter) Tell me, my valiants, you’ve heard tell of the thrust of Nevers?
ALL: By Jove!
LAGARDÈRE: This cursed thrust was my bête-noir; it prevented me from sleeping, besides this Nevers talked too much of it at court, in town, in the cabaret, in quarters. I heard only one name, Nevers, Nevers. One night, my hostess was serving me cutlets à la Nevers. I threw the dish out the window and left without supper. At the gate, I yelled at my shoe-maker who was bringing me boots—à la Nevers, the latest fashion! I beat up my bootmaker and threw ten crowns in his face. The wise guy said to me, “Ah, Mr. de Nevers beat me once, but he gave me a hundred pistoles.”
CORCADASSE: