ROXANE (bandaging his hand with her handkerchief): And to think of it! that he by chance-- Yes, cousin, he is of your regiment! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE (laughing): --Is cadet in your own company! CYRANO: Ah!. . . ROXANE: On his brow he bears the genius-stamp; He is proud, noble, young, intrepid, fair. . . CYRANO (rising suddenly, very pale): Fair! ROXANE: Why, what ails you? CYRANO: Nothing; 'tis. . . (He shows his hand, smiling): This scratch! ROXANE: I love him; all is said. But you must know I have only seen him at the Comedy. . . CYRANO: How? You have never spoken? ROXANE: Eyes can speak. CYRANO: How know you then that he. . .? ROXANE: Oh! people talk 'Neath the limes in the Place Royale. . . Gossip's chat Has let me know. . . CYRANO: He is cadet? ROXANE: In the Guards. CYRANO: His name? ROXANE: Baron Christian de Neuvillette. CYRANO: How now?. . .He is not of the Guards! ROXANE: To-day He is not join your ranks, under Captain Carbon de Castel-Jaloux. CYRANO: Ah, how quick, How quick the heart has flown!. . .But, my poor child. . . THE DUENNA (opening the door): The cakes are eaten, Monsieur Bergerac! CYRANO: Then read the verses printed on the bags! (She goes out): . . .My poor child, you who love but flowing words, Bright wit,--what if he be a lout unskilled? ROXANE: No, his bright locks, like D'Urfe's heroes. . . CYRANO: Ah! A well-curled pate, and witless tongue, perchance! ROXANE: Ah no! I guess--I feel--his words are fair! CYRANO: All words are fair that lurk 'neath fair mustache! --Suppose he were a fool!. . . ROXANE (stamping her foot): Then bury me! CYRANO (after a pause): Was it to tell me this you brought me here? I fail to see what use this serves, Madame. ROXANE: Nay, but I felt a terror, here, in the heart, On learning yesterday you were Gascons All of your company. . . CYRANO: And we provoke All beardless sprigs that favor dares admit 'Midst us pure Gascons--(pure! Heaven save the mark! They told you that as well? ROXANE: Ah! Think how I Trembled for him! CYRANO (between his teeth): Not causelessly! ROXANE: But when Last night I saw you,--brave, invincible,-- Punish that dandy, fearless hold your own Against those brutes, I thought--I thought, if he Whom all fear, all--if he would only. . . CYRANO: Good. I will befriend your little Baron. ROXANE: Ah! You'll promise me you will do this for me? I've always held you as a tender friend. CYRANO: Ay, ay. ROXANE: Then you will be his friend? CYRANO: I swear! ROXANE: And he shall fight no duels, promise! CYRANO: None. ROXANE: You are kind, cousin! Now I must be gone. (She puts on her mask and veil quickly; then, absently): You have not told me of your last night's fray. Ah, but it must have been a hero-fight!. . . --Bid him to write. (She sends him a kiss with her fingers): How good you are!