Act II. Scene 10
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?
