Cyrano de Bergerac By Edmond Rostand Act II — Scenes 9-10

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 . . . ?


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!


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!


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?


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?

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As Cyrano writes a love letter to Roxane, he does not sign it because