Act III, Scene viii
| Cyrano, Christian. |
| CHRISTIAN: |
 Oh! win for me that kiss. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| No! |
| CHRISTIAN: |
| Soon or late!. . . |
| CYRANO: |
| 'Tis true! The moment of intoxication— |
| Of madness,—when your mouths are sure to meet |
| Thanks to your fair mustache—and her rose lips! |
| (To himself): |
| I'd fainer it should come thanks to. . . |
| (A sound of shutters reopening. Christian goes in again under the balcony.) |
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