Scene 3.IX.
Cyrano, Christian, Roxane.
ROXANE (coming out on the balcony):
   Still there?
   We spoke of a. . .
CYRANO:
   A kiss! The word is sweet.
   I see not why your lip should shrink from it;
   If the word burns it,--what would the kiss do?
   Oh! let it not your bashfulness affright;
   Have you not, all this time, insensibly,
   Left badinage aside, and unalarmed
   Glided from smile to sigh,--from sigh to weeping?
   Glide gently, imperceptibly, still onward--
   From tear to kiss,--a moment's thrill!--a heartbeat!
ROXANE:
   Hush! hush!
CYRANO:
   A kiss, when all is said,--what is it?
   An oath that's ratified,--a sealed promise,
   A heart's avowal claiming confirmation,--
   A rose-dot on the 'i' of 'adoration,'--
   A secret that to mouth, not ear, is whispered,--
   Brush of a bee's wing, that makes time eternal,--
   Communion perfumed like the spring's wild flowers,--
   The heart's relieving in the heart's outbreathing,
   When to the lips the soul's flood rises, brimming!
ROXANE:
   Hush! hush!
CYRANO:
   A kiss, Madame, is honorable:
   The Queen of France, to a most favored lord
   Did grant a kiss--the Queen herself!
ROXANE:
   What then?
CYRANO (speaking more warmly):
   Buckingham suffered dumbly,--so have I,--
   Adored his Queen, as loyally as I,--
   Was sad, but faithful,--so am I. . .
ROXANE:
   And you
   Are fair as Buckingham!
CYRANO (aside--suddenly cooled):
   True,--I forgot!
ROXANE:
   Must I then bid thee mount to cull this flower?
CYRANO (pushing Christian toward the balcony):
   Mount!
ROXANE:
   This heart-breathing!. . .
CYRANO:
   Mount!
ROXANE:
   This brush of bee's wing!. . .
CYRANO:
   Mount!
CHRISTIAN (hesitating):
   But I feel now, as though 'twere ill done!
ROXANE:
   This moment infinite!. . .
CYRANO (still pushing him):
   Come, blockhead, mount!
(Christian springs forward, and by means of the bench, the branches, and the pillars, climbs to the balcony and strides over it.)
CHRISTIAN:
   Ah, Roxane!
(He takes her in his arms, and bends over her lips.)
CYRANO:
   Aie! Strange pain that wrings my heart!
   The kiss, love's feast, so near! I, Lazarus,
   Lie at the gate in darkness. Yet to me
   Falls still a crumb or two from the rich man's board--
   Ay, 'tis my heart receives thee, Roxane--mine!
   For on the lips you press you kiss as well
   The words I spoke just now!--my words--my words!
   (The lutes play):
   A sad air,--a gay air: the monk!
   (He begins to run as if he came from a long way off, and cries out):
   Hola!
ROXANE:
   Who is it?
CYRANO:
   I--I was but passing by. . .
   Is Christian there?
CHRISTIAN (astonished):
   Cyrano!
ROXANE:
   Good-day, cousin!
CYRANO:
   Cousin, good-day!
ROXANE:
   I'm coming!
(She disappears into the house. At the back re-enter the friar.)
CHRISTIAN (seeing him):
   Back again!
(He follows Roxane.)
 
         
   
                     
                     
                    