any other man that breathes!

DE GUICHE (trying to draw away the dismayed viscount):
Come away, Viscount!

THE VISCOUNT (choking with rage):
Hear his arrogance!
A country lout who. . .who. . .has got no gloves!
Who goes out without sleeve-knots, ribbons, lace!

CYRANO:
True; all my elegances are within.
I do not prank myself out, puppy-like;
My toilet is more thorough, if less gay;
I would not sally forth--a half-washed-out
Affront upon my cheek--a conscience
Yellow-eyed, bilious, from its sodden sleep,
A ruffled honor,. . .scruples grimed and dull!
I show no bravery of shining gems.
Truth, Independence, are my fluttering plumes.
'Tis not my form I lace to make me slim,
But brace my soul with efforts as with stays,
Covered with exploits, not with ribbon-knots,
My spirit bristling high like your mustaches,
I, traversing the crowds and chattering groups
Make Truth ring bravely out like clash of spurs!

THE VISCOUNT:
But, Sir. . .

CYRANO:
I wear no gloves? And what of that?
I had one,. . .remnant of an old worn pair,
And, knowing not what else to do with it,
I threw it in the face of. . .some young fool.

THE VISCOUNT:
Base scoundrel! Rascally flat-footed lout!

CYRANO (taking off his hat, and bowing as if the viscount had introduced
himself):
Ah?. . .and I, Cyrano Savinien
Hercule de Bergerac

(Laughter.)

THE VISCOUNT (angrily):
Buffoon!

CYRANO (calling out as if he had been seized with the cramp):
Aie! Aie!

THE VISCOUNT (who was going away, turns back):
What on earth is the fellow saying now?

CYRANO (with grimaces of pain):
It must be moved--it's getting stiff, I vow,
--This comes of leaving it in idleness!
Aie!. . .

THE VISCOUNT:
What ails you?

CYRANO:
The cramp! cramp in my sword!

THE VISCOUNT (drawing his sword):
Good!

CYRANO:
You shall feel a charming little stroke!

THE VISCOUNT (contemptuously):
Poet!. . .

CYRANO:
Ay, poet, Sir! In proof of which,
While we fence, presto! all extempore
I will compose a ballade.

THE VISCOUNT:
A ballade?

CYRANO:
Belike you know not what a ballade is.

THE VISCOUNT:
But. . .

CYRANO (reciting, as if repeating a lesson):
Know then that the ballade should contain
Three eight-versed couplets. . .

THE VISCOUNT (stamping):
Oh!

CYRANO (still reciting):
And an envoi
Of four lines. . .

THE VISCOUNT:
You. . .

C