Monsieur de Neuvillette, there's something you must learn, to wit: there exists a thing that, with us, must never be even alluded to--no more than a rope in the house of one who was hung. CHRISTIAN. And what is that? ANOTHER CADET (_in terrifying tone_). Look at me! (_With his finger he, three times, strikes his nose._) You understand? CHRISTIAN. Oh! you mean the.... ANOTHER CADET. Hush!.... The word is never pronounced.... (_pointing to Cyrano, who, in the rear, is talking with Le Bret_). .... Or else trouble is sure. ANOTHER CADET (_who, while Christian was looking the other way, took a seat on the table_). Two men were killed by him because they spoke through the nose--a subject he dislikes! ANOTHER CADET (_springing up from underneath the table, where he had crawled_). Those who desire to die young have but to come here and speak of the fatal cartilage. ANOTHER CADET (_placing his hand on Christian's shoulder_). One word's enough. Did I say: a word? One motion, just one, suffices. And drawing out one's handkerchief is equivalent to weaving one's shroud! (_Silence. All the Cadets remain, with folded arms, staring at Christian. Christian goes up to Carbon of Haughty-Hall, who has been conversing with an officer and affecting not to notice the proceedings._) CHRISTIAN. Captain! CARBON (_turning, and with a severe look_). Sir? CHRISTIAN. When one encounters southerners possessed of too much braggadocio.... CARBON. The right thing to do? Prove to them that you may come from the North and still be brave. (_Carbon turns._) CHRISTIAN. Captain, I thank you. FIRST CADET (_to Cyrano_). And now your narrative! OTHER CADETS. Yes, his narrative! CYRANO (_coming down to them_). My narrative? Well, here it is! (_They gather around him, some seated, some standing. Christian straddles a chair._) Well, then, I was walking along so as to meet them. The moon, in the sky, looked like a big silver watch; when suddenly some zealous watch-maker, I suppose, began passing over it, with a view to making it shine, no doubt, some cloudy cotton. In consequence, the night became as dark as possible, and, mordious! I could not see further.... CHRISTIAN. Than the end of your nose. (_Silence. Everybody rises slowly, frightened, and looking at Cyrano, whom the interruption has astounded. General expectancy._) CYRANO. Who is this man? A CADET (_in subdued tone_).