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.)





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