(_They sit down and resume playing._) GUICHE (_to Carbon_). You must gain time, pending the Marshal's return. CARBON. And, in order to gain time, what shall we do? GUICHE. You will have the goodness to get killed, all of you, in defense of the camp. CYRANO. Ah! this is his vengeance! GUICHE. I will not pretend that, if I loved you, I should have selected you; but, as your bravery has no equal, by using you I am serving my king as well as my ill-will. CYRANO. Allow me, Sir, to be thankful for the honour. GUICHE. Oh! I know that you love to fight one against a hundred. You certainly cannot complain, then, that I leave you inactive. (_He goes toward the rear with Carbon._) CYRANO (_to the Cadets_). Well, then we will add to the Gascon coat of arms, proud of its six chevrons of azure and gold, gentlemen, another chevron, still lacking, one of blood! (_Guiche speaks, aside, with Carbon in the rear. Orders are given. Preparations against attack. Cyrano goes up to Christian, who has remained motionless with folded arms._) CYRANO (_placing his hand on Christian's shoulder_). Christian! CHRISTIAN (_shaking his head_). Roxane. CYRANO. Alas! CHRISTIAN. At least, I should like to condense all the loving farewells of my heart into a beautiful letter!.... CYRANO. I thought it might be for to-day, and.... (_He draws a letter from his doublet_) .... I have written your farewell. CHRISTIAN. Let me see!.... CYRANO. You desire to?.... CHRISTIAN (_taking the letter_). Yes, certainly! (_He opens the letter, reads, and stops._) What is this?.... CYRANO. What? CHRISTIAN. This little round spot?.... CYRANO (_taking the letter and looking at it with an air of innocence_). A little round spot?.... CHRISTIAN. Yes, a tear! CYRANO. Oh!.... Yes!.... we poets are caught in our own trap, through the swing of our art. You understand.... this letter,--was heart-rending; I drew tears from my own eyes as I was writing it. CHRISTIAN. Tears?.... CYRANO. Yes.... because.... to die is not so terrible .... but ....never to see her again, that is the torture! for the fact is, I shall never.... (_Christian looks at him._) We shall never....