Scene 2.V.

Cyrano, Roxane, the duenna.

CYRANO:
   Ah! if I see but the faint glimmer of hope, then I draw out my letter!
(Roxane, masked, followed by the duenna, appears at the glass pane of the door. He opens quickly):
   Enter! . . .
(Walking up to the duenna):
   Two words with you, Duenna.

THE DUENNA:
   Four, Sir, an it like you.

CYRANO:
   Are you fond of sweet things?

THE DUENNA:
   Ay, I could eat myself sick on them!

CYRANO (catching up some of the paper bags from the counter):
   Good. See you these two sonnets of Monsieur Beuserade . . .

THE DUENNA:
   Hey?

CYRANO:
    . . .Which I fill for you with cream cakes!

THE DUENNA (changing her expression):
   Ha.

CYRANO:
   What say you to the cake they call a little puff?

THE DUENNA:
   If made with cream, Sir, I love them passing well.

CYRANO:
   Here I plunge six for your eating into the bosom of a poem by Saint Amant! And in these verses of Chapelain I glide a lighter morsel. Stay, love you hot cakes?

THE DUENNA:
   Ay, to the core of my heart!

CYRANO (filling her arms with the bags):
   Pleasure me then; go eat them all in the street.

THE DUENNA:
   But . . .

CYRANO (pushing her out):
   And come not back till the very last crumb be eaten!

(He shuts the door, comes down toward Roxane, and, uncovering, stands at a respectful distance from her.)





Previous screen     Index screen     Next screen