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Act IV, Scene vii | DE GUICHE: |  It smells good here. |
| A CADET (humming): | | Lo! Lo-lo! |
| DE GUICHE (looking at him): | | What is the matter?—You are very red. |
| THE CADET: | | The matter?—Nothing!—'Tis my blood—boiling at the thought of the coming | | battle! |
| ANOTHER: | | Poum, poum—poum. . . |
| DE GUICHE (turning round): | | What's that? |
| THE CADET (slightly drunk): | | Nothing!. . .'Tis a song!—a little. . . |
| DE GUICHE: | | You are merry, my friend! |
| THE CADET: | | The approach of danger is intoxicating! |
| DE GUICHE (calling Carbon de Castel-Jaloux, to give him an order): | | Captain! I. . . | | (He stops short on seeing him): | | Plague take me! but you look bravely, too! |
| CARBON (crimson in the face, hiding a bottle behind his back, with an evasive | | movement): | | Oh!. . . |
| DE GUICHE: | | I have one cannon left, and have had it carried there— | | (he points behind the scenes): | | —in that corner. . .Your men can use it in case of need. |
| A CADET (reeling slightly): | | Charming attention! |
| ANOTHER (with a gracious smile): | | Kind solicitude! |
| DE GUICHE: | | How? they are all gone crazy? | | (Drily): | | As you are not used to cannon, beware of the recoil. |
| FIRST CADET: | | Pooh! |
| DE GUICHE (furious, going up to him): | | But. . . |
| THE CADET: | | Gascon cannons never recoil! |
| DE GUICHE (taking him by the arm and shaking him): | | You are tipsy!—but what with? |
| THE CADET (grandiloquently): | | —With the smell of powder! |
| DE GUICHE (shrugging his shoulders and pushing him away, then going quickly to | | Roxane): | | Briefly, Madame, what decision do you deign to take? |
| ROXANE: | | I stay here. |
| DE GUICHE: | | You must fly! |
| ROXANE: | | No! I will stay. |
| DE GUICHE: | | Since things are thus, give me a musket, one of you! |
| CARBON: | | Wherefore? |
| DE GUICHE: | | Because I too—mean to remain. |
| CYRANO: | | At last! This is true valor, Sir! |
| FIRST CADET: | | Then you are Gascon after all, spite of your lace collar? |
| ROXANE: | | What is all this? |
| DE GUICHE: | | I leave no woman in peril. |
| SECOND CADET (to the first): | | Hark you! Think you not we might give him something to eat? |
| (All the viands reappear as if by magic.) |
| DE GUICHE (whose eyes sparkle): | | Victuals! |
| THE THIRD CADET: | | Yes, you'll see them coming from under every coat! |
| DE GUICHE (controlling himself, haughtily): | | Do you think I will eat your leavings? |
| CYRANO (saluting him): | | You make progress. |
| DE GUICHE (proudly, with a light touch of accent on the word 'breaking'): | | I will fight without br-r-eaking my fast! |
| FIRST CADET (with wild delight): | | Br-r-r-eaking! He has got the accent! |
| DE GUICHE (laughing): | | I? |
| THE CADET: | | 'Tis a Gascon! |
| CARBON DE CASTEL-JALOUX (who had disappeared behind the rampart, reappearing | | on the ridge): | | I have drawn my pikemen up in line. They are a resolute troop. |
| (He points to a row of pikes, the tops of which are seen over the ridge.) |
| DE GUICHE (bowing to Roxane): | | Will you accept my hand, and accompany me while I review them? |
| (She takes it, and they go up toward the rampart. All uncover and follow | | them.) |
| CHRISTIAN (going to Cyrano, eagerly): | | Tell me quickly! |
| (As Roxane appears on the ridge, the tops of the lances disappear, lowered for | | the salute, and a shout is raised. She bows.) |
| THE PIKEMEN (outside): | | Vivat! |
| CHRISTIAN: | | What is this secret? |
| CYRANO: | | If Roxane should. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: | | Should?. . . |
| CYRANO: | | Speak of the letters?. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: | | Yes, I know!. . . |
| CYRANO: | | Do not spoil all by seeming surprised. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: | | At what? |
| CYRANO: | | I must explain to you!. . .Oh! 'tis no great matter—I but thought of it to- | | day on seeing her. You have. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: | | Tell quickly! |
| CYRANO: | | You have. . .written to her oftener than you think. . . |
| CHRISTIAN: | | How so? |
| CYRANO: | | Thus, 'faith! I had taken it in hand to express your flame for you!. . .At | | times I wrote without saying, 'I am writing!' |
| CHRISTIAN: | | Ah!. . . |
| CYRANO: | | 'Tis simple enough! |
| CHRISTIAN: | | But how did you contrive, since we have been cut off, thus. . .to?. . . |
| CYRANO: | | . . .Oh! before dawn. . .I was able to get through. . . |
| CHRISTIAN (folding his arms): | | That was simple, too? And how oft, pray you, have I written?. . .Twice in | | the week?. . .Three times?. . .Four?. . . |
| CYRANO: | | More often still. |
| CHRISTIAN: | | What! Every day? |
| CYRANO: | | Yes, every day,—twice. |
| CHRISTIAN (violently): | | And that became so mad a joy for you, that you braved death. . . |
| CYRANO (seeing Roxane returning): | | Hush! Not before her! |
| (He goes hurriedly into his tent.) |
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