Act V of “Cyra­no de Berg­er­ac,” set in 1655 with­in the serene park of the Sis­ters of the Holy Cross in Paris, intro­duces an atmos­phere rich with autum­nal beau­ty and tran­quil­i­ty. The vivid descrip­tion sets the stage: Majes­tic trees, an expan­sive house with broad steps, a cen­tral plane tree stand­ing with an almost sen­tinel-like pres­ence, and a semi-cir­cu­lar stone bench tucked among large box­wood trees. The back­ground unfurls with an alley of chest­nut trees extend­ing toward a chapel, bare­ly vis­i­ble through the tree branch­es, all under a sky viewed through lay­ers of green lawns, oth­er paths, tree clus­ters, and the wind­ing expanse of the park.

Autumn has cloaked the foliage in red, con­trast­ing with the eter­nal green of the lawns and the dark­er hues of the box­wood and yew trees. Yel­low leaves blan­ket the ground under each tree, their pres­ence also felt on the steps and bench­es, their rus­tle a con­stant under­foot in the alleys. Amidst this nat­ur­al tapes­try, a large embroi­dery frame stands beside a chair, sur­round­ed by bas­kets filled with skeins and balls of wool, a tapes­try left incom­plete.

As the cur­tain ris­es, the seren­i­ty of the scene is com­ple­ment­ed by the qui­et activ­i­ties of nuns with­in the park. Some walk gen­tly to and fro, while oth­ers gath­er on the stone bench, weav­ing a sem­blance of a com­mu­ni­ty around an elder Sis­ter. The tran­quil­i­ty of their rou­tine is light­ly dis­turbed by an innocu­ous moment of van­i­ty from Sis­ter Claire, who is caught glanc­ing not once, but twice in a mir­ror, pre­sum­ably to check if her coif sits just right.

This open­ing scene, ele­gant­ly cap­tur­ing a moment sus­pend­ed in time, sets a con­tem­pla­tive tone, hint­ing at themes of reflec­tion, the pas­sage of time, and per­haps the impend­ing intru­sion of the exter­nal world into this seclud­ed seren­i­ty. Through the detailed descrip­tion of the sur­round­ings and the sim­ple, yet telling, inter­ac­tions among the nuns, a vivid back­drop is estab­lished for the devel­op­ments to unfold in this final act of the play, promis­ing a blend of beau­ty, melo­dra­ma, and per­haps intro­spec­tion.