Frases de Edmond Rostand

Edmond Rostand photo
6   1

Edmond Rostand

Data de nascimento: 1. Abril 1868
Data de falecimento: 2. Dezembro 1918
Outros nomes: Edmond de Rostand

Edmond Eugène Alexis Rostand foi um poeta e dramaturgo francês, cuja fama se deve, principalmente, pela autoria da conhecida peça Cyrano de Bergerac.

Edmond é pai do biólogo Jean Rostand. Wikipedia

Citações Edmond Rostand

„O que é a vida sem um sonho?“

—  Edmond Rostand

citado em "Citações da Cultura Universal" ‎ - Página 478, de Alberto J. G. Villamarín, Editora AGE Ltda, 2002, ISBN 8574970891, 9788574970899

„You blessed my life!
Never on me had rested woman's love.“

—  Edmond Rostand

Cyrano, Act 5, Sc. 6
Cyrano de Bergerac (1897)
Contexto: 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.

„I know you now, old enemies of mine!
Falsehood!
Have at you! Ha! and Compromise!
Prejudice, Treachery! …
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!“

—  Edmond Rostand

Cyrano, Act 5, Sc. 6
Cyrano de Bergerac (1897)
Contexto: 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!
Have at you! Ha! and Compromise!
Prejudice, Treachery! …
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!

„Yes, a poet, … and, to such an extent, that while we fence, I will, hop!, extempore, compose you a ballade!“

—  Edmond Rostand

Act IV, scene 1, as translated by Getrude Hall
Cyrano de Bergerac (1897)
Contexto: Valvert: Villain, clod-poll, flat-foot, refuse of the earth!
Cyrano: [taking off his hat and bowing as if the Vicomte had been introducing himself] Ah? … And mine, Cyrano-Savinien-Hercule of Bergerac!
Valvert: [exasperated] Buffoon!
Cyrano: [giving a sudden cry, as if seized with a cramp] Aï! …
Valvert: [who had started toward the back, turning] What is he saying now?
Cyrano: [screwing his face as if in pain] It must have leave to stir … it has a cramp! It is bad for it to be kept still so long!
Valvert: What is the matter?
Cyrano: My rapier prickles like a foot asleep!
Valvert: [drawing] So be it!
Cyrano: I shall give you a charming little hurt!
Valvert: [contemptous] Poet!
Cyrano: Yes, a poet, … and, to such an extent, that while we fence, I will, hop!, extempore, compose you a ballade!
Valvert: A ballade?
Cyrano: I fear you do not know what that is.
Valvert: But …
Cyrano: [as if saying a lesson] The ballade is composed of three stanzas of eight lines each …
Valvert: [stamps with his feet] Oh!
Cyrano: [continuing] And an envoi of four.
Valvert: You …
Cyrano: I will with the same breath fight you and compose one. And, at the last line, I will hit you. Valvert: Indeed you will not!
Cyrano: No? … [Declaiming]
Ballade of the duel which in Burgundy house
Monsieur de Bergerac fought with a jackanape …
Valvert: And what is that, if you please?
Cyrano: That is the title.
[ … ]
Cyrano: [closing his eyes a second] Wait. I am settling upon the rhymes. There. I have them. [in declaiming, he suits the action to the word]
Of my broad felt made lighter,
I cast my mantle broad,
And stand, poet and fighter,
To do and to record.
I bow, I draw my sword …
En garde! With steel and wit
I play you at first abord …
At the last line, I hit! [They begin fencing] You should have been politer;
Where had you best be gored?
The left side or the right — ah?
Or next your azure cord?
Or where the spleen is stored?
Or in the stomach pit?
Come we to quick accord …
At the last line, I hit! You falter, you turn whiter?
You do so to afford
Your foe a rhyme in "iter"? …
You thrust at me — I ward —
And balance is restored.
Laridon! Look to your spit! …
No, you shall not be floored
Before my cue to hit! [He announces solemnly] Envoi Prince, call upon the Lord! …
I skirmish … feint a bit …
I lunge! … I keep my word!
[The Vicomte staggers, Cyrano bows. ]
At the last line, I hit!

„What say you? It is useless? Ay, I know
But who fights ever hoping for success?“

—  Edmond Rostand

Cyrano, Act 5, Sc. 6
Cyrano de Bergerac (1897)
Contexto: 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!
Have at you! Ha! and Compromise!
Prejudice, Treachery! …
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!

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„That, my dear sir, or something not unlike, is what you could have said to me, had you the smallest leaven of letters or wit; but of wit, O most pitiable of objects made by God, you never had a rudiment, and of letters, you have just those that are needed to spell "fool!"“

—  Edmond Rostand

Act IV, scene 1, as translated by Getrude Hall
Cyrano de Bergerac (1897)
Contexto: Valvert: Your … your nose is … errr … Your nose … is very large!
Cyrano: [gravely] Very.
Valvert: [laughs] Ha!
Cyrano: [imperturbable] Is that all?
Valvert: But …
Cyrano: Ah, no, young man, that is not enough! You might have said, dear me, there are a thousand things … varying the tone … For instance … Here you are: — Aggressive: "I, monsieur, if I had such a nose, nothing would serve but I must cut it off!" Amicable: "It must be in your way while drinking; you ought to have a special beaker made!" Descriptive: "It is a crag! … a peak! … a promontory! … A promontory, did I say? … It is a peninsula!" Inquisitive: "What may the office be of that oblong receptacle? Is it an inkhorn or a scissor-case?" Mincing: "Do you so dote on birds, you have, fond as a father, been at pains to fit the little darlings with a roost?" Blunt: "Tell me, monsieur, you, when you smoke, is it possible you blow the vapor through your nose without a neighbor crying "The chimney is afire!"?" Anxious: "Go with caution, I beseech, lest your head, dragged over by that weight, should drag you over!" Tender: "Have a little sun-shade made for it! It might get freckled!" Learned: "None but the beast, monsieur, mentioned by Aristophanes, the hippocampelephantocamelos, can have borne beneath his forehead so much cartilage and bone!" Off-Hand: "What, comrade, is that sort of peg in style? Capital to hang one's hat upon!" Emphatic: No wind can hope, O lordly nose, to give the whole of you a cold, but the Nor-Wester!" Dramatic: "It is the Red Sea when it bleeds!" Admiring: "What a sign for a perfumer's shop!" Lyric: "Art thou a Triton, and is that thy conch?" Simple: "A monument! When is admission free?" Deferent: "Suffer, monsieur, that I should pay you my respects: That is what I call possessing a house of your own!" Rustic: "Hi, boys! Call that a nose? You don't gull me! It's either a prize parrot or a stunted gourd!" Military: "Level against the cavalry!" Practical: "Will you put up for raffle? Indubitably, sir, it will be the feature of the game!" And finally in parody of weeping Pyramus: "Behold, behold the nose that traitorously destroyed the beauty of its master! and is blushing for the same!" — That, my dear sir, or something not unlike, is what you could have said to me, had you the smallest leaven of letters or wit; but of wit, O most pitiable of objects made by God, you never had a rudiment, and of letters, you have just those that are needed to spell "fool!" — But, had it been otherwise, and had you been possessed of the fertile fancy requisite to shower upon me, here, in this noble company, that volley of sprightly pleasentries, still should you not have delivered yourself of so much as a quarter of the tenth part of the beginning of the first … For I let off these good things at myself, and with sufficient zest, but do not suffer another to let them off at me!"

„Of my broad felt made lighter,
I cast my mantle broad,
And stand, poet and fighter,
To do and to record.
I bow, I draw my sword …
En garde! With steel and wit
I play you at first abord …
At the last line, I hit!“

—  Edmond Rostand

Act IV, scene 1, as translated by Getrude Hall
Cyrano de Bergerac (1897)
Contexto: Valvert: Villain, clod-poll, flat-foot, refuse of the earth!
Cyrano: [taking off his hat and bowing as if the Vicomte had been introducing himself] Ah? … And mine, Cyrano-Savinien-Hercule of Bergerac!
Valvert: [exasperated] Buffoon!
Cyrano: [giving a sudden cry, as if seized with a cramp] Aï! …
Valvert: [who had started toward the back, turning] What is he saying now?
Cyrano: [screwing his face as if in pain] It must have leave to stir … it has a cramp! It is bad for it to be kept still so long!
Valvert: What is the matter?
Cyrano: My rapier prickles like a foot asleep!
Valvert: [drawing] So be it!
Cyrano: I shall give you a charming little hurt!
Valvert: [contemptous] Poet!
Cyrano: Yes, a poet, … and, to such an extent, that while we fence, I will, hop!, extempore, compose you a ballade!
Valvert: A ballade?
Cyrano: I fear you do not know what that is.
Valvert: But …
Cyrano: [as if saying a lesson] The ballade is composed of three stanzas of eight lines each …
Valvert: [stamps with his feet] Oh!
Cyrano: [continuing] And an envoi of four.
Valvert: You …
Cyrano: I will with the same breath fight you and compose one. And, at the last line, I will hit you. Valvert: Indeed you will not!
Cyrano: No? … [Declaiming]
Ballade of the duel which in Burgundy house
Monsieur de Bergerac fought with a jackanape …
Valvert: And what is that, if you please?
Cyrano: That is the title.
[ … ]
Cyrano: [closing his eyes a second] Wait. I am settling upon the rhymes. There. I have them. [in declaiming, he suits the action to the word]
Of my broad felt made lighter,
I cast my mantle broad,
And stand, poet and fighter,
To do and to record.
I bow, I draw my sword …
En garde! With steel and wit
I play you at first abord …
At the last line, I hit! [They begin fencing] You should have been politer;
Where had you best be gored?
The left side or the right — ah?
Or next your azure cord?
Or where the spleen is stored?
Or in the stomach pit?
Come we to quick accord …
At the last line, I hit! You falter, you turn whiter?
You do so to afford
Your foe a rhyme in "iter"? …
You thrust at me — I ward —
And balance is restored.
Laridon! Look to your spit! …
No, you shall not be floored
Before my cue to hit! [He announces solemnly] Envoi Prince, call upon the Lord! …
I skirmish … feint a bit …
I lunge! … I keep my word!
[The Vicomte staggers, Cyrano bows. ]
At the last line, I hit!

„Ah, no, young man, that is not enough!“

—  Edmond Rostand

Act IV, scene 1, as translated by Getrude Hall
Cyrano de Bergerac (1897)
Contexto: Valvert: Your … your nose is … errr … Your nose … is very large!
Cyrano: [gravely] Very.
Valvert: [laughs] Ha!
Cyrano: [imperturbable] Is that all?
Valvert: But …
Cyrano: Ah, no, young man, that is not enough! You might have said, dear me, there are a thousand things … varying the tone … For instance … Here you are: — Aggressive: "I, monsieur, if I had such a nose, nothing would serve but I must cut it off!" Amicable: "It must be in your way while drinking; you ought to have a special beaker made!" Descriptive: "It is a crag! … a peak! … a promontory! … A promontory, did I say? … It is a peninsula!" Inquisitive: "What may the office be of that oblong receptacle? Is it an inkhorn or a scissor-case?" Mincing: "Do you so dote on birds, you have, fond as a father, been at pains to fit the little darlings with a roost?" Blunt: "Tell me, monsieur, you, when you smoke, is it possible you blow the vapor through your nose without a neighbor crying "The chimney is afire!"?" Anxious: "Go with caution, I beseech, lest your head, dragged over by that weight, should drag you over!" Tender: "Have a little sun-shade made for it! It might get freckled!" Learned: "None but the beast, monsieur, mentioned by Aristophanes, the hippocampelephantocamelos, can have borne beneath his forehead so much cartilage and bone!" Off-Hand: "What, comrade, is that sort of peg in style? Capital to hang one's hat upon!" Emphatic: No wind can hope, O lordly nose, to give the whole of you a cold, but the Nor-Wester!" Dramatic: "It is the Red Sea when it bleeds!" Admiring: "What a sign for a perfumer's shop!" Lyric: "Art thou a Triton, and is that thy conch?" Simple: "A monument! When is admission free?" Deferent: "Suffer, monsieur, that I should pay you my respects: That is what I call possessing a house of your own!" Rustic: "Hi, boys! Call that a nose? You don't gull me! It's either a prize parrot or a stunted gourd!" Military: "Level against the cavalry!" Practical: "Will you put up for raffle? Indubitably, sir, it will be the feature of the game!" And finally in parody of weeping Pyramus: "Behold, behold the nose that traitorously destroyed the beauty of its master! and is blushing for the same!" — That, my dear sir, or something not unlike, is what you could have said to me, had you the smallest leaven of letters or wit; but of wit, O most pitiable of objects made by God, you never had a rudiment, and of letters, you have just those that are needed to spell "fool!" — But, had it been otherwise, and had you been possessed of the fertile fancy requisite to shower upon me, here, in this noble company, that volley of sprightly pleasentries, still should you not have delivered yourself of so much as a quarter of the tenth part of the beginning of the first … For I let off these good things at myself, and with sufficient zest, but do not suffer another to let them off at me!"

„To joke in the face of danger is the supreme politeness, a delicate refusal to cast oneself as a tragic hero.“

—  Edmond Rostand

Speaking to the Académie française in 1903, as quoted by John Lahr in "Fighting and Writing" in The New Yorker (12 November 2007) http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/theatre/2007/11/12/071112crth_theatre_lahr

„I fall back
dazzled at beholding myself all rosy red,
At having, I myself, caused the sun to rise.“

—  Edmond Rostand, Chantecler

Je recule
Ébloui de me voir moi même tout vermeil
Et d’avoir, moi, le coq, fait élever le soleil.
Act II, Sc. 3
Chantecler (1910)

„Malebranche would have it that not a soul is left; we humbly think that there still are hearts.“

—  Edmond Rostand, Chantecler

Malebranche dirait qu’il n’y a plus une âme:
Nous pensons humblement qu’il reste encor des cœurs.
Prelude
Chantecler (1910)

„Without doubt
I can teach crowing: for I gobble.“

—  Edmond Rostand, Chantecler

Sans doute
Je peux apprendre à coqueriquer: je glougloute.
Act I, Sc. 2
Chantecler (1910)

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