A TROOPER: 'Tis superb!
A WOMAN: A pretty stroke!
RAGUENEAU: A marvel!
A MARQUIS: A novelty!
LE BRET: O madman!
THE CROWD (presses round Cyrano. Chorus of): Compliments! Bravo! Let me congratulate! . . . Quite unsurpassed! . . .
A WOMAN'S VOICE: There is a hero for you! . . .
A MUSKETEER (advancing to Cyrano with outstretched hand): Sir, permit; Naught could be finer — I'm a judge I think; I stamped, i' faith! — to show my admiration!
(He goes away.)
CYRANO (to Cuigy): Who is that gentleman?
CUIGY: Why — D'Artagnan!
LE BRET (to Cyrano, taking his arm): A word with you! . . .
CYRANO: Wait; let the rabble go! . . . (To Bellerose): May I stay?
BELLEROSE (respectfully): Without doubt!
(Cries are heard outside.)
JODELET (who has looked out): They hoot Montfleury!
BELLEROSE (solemnly): Sic transit! . . . (To the porters): Sweep — close all, but leave the lights. We sup, but later on we must return, For a rehearsal of to-morrow's farce.
(Jodelet and Bellerose go out, bowing low to Cyrano.)
THE PORTER (to Cyrano): You do not dine, Sir?
(The porter goes out.)
LE BRET: Because?
CYRANO (proudly): Because . . . (Changing his tone as the porter goes away): I have no money! . . .
LE BRET (with the action of throwing a bag): How! The bag of crowns? . . .
CYRANO: Paternal bounty, in a day, thou'rt sped!
LE BRET: How live the next month? . . .
CYRANO: I have nothing left.
LE BRET: Folly!
CYRANO: But what a graceful action! Think!
THE BUFFET-GIRL (coughing, behind her counter): Hum! (Cyrano and Le Bret turn. She comes timidly forward): Sir, my heart mislikes to know you fast. (Showing the buffet): See, all you need. Serve yourself!
CYRANO (taking off his hat): Gentle child, Although my Gascon pride would else forbid To take the least bestowal from your hands, My fear of wounding you outweighs that pride, And bids accept . . . (He goes to the buffet): A trifle! . . . These few grapes. (She offers him the whole bunch. He takes a few): Nay, but this bunch! . . . (She tries to give him wine, but he stops her): A glass of water fair! . . . And half a macaroon!
(He gives back the other half.)
LE BRET: What foolery!
THE BUFFET-GIRL: Take something else!
CYRANO: I take your hand to kiss.
(He kisses her hand as though she were a princess.)
THE BUFFET-GIRL: Thank you, kind Sir! (She courtesies): Good-night.
(She goes out.)