Scene 2.X.

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.)