e fairest?. . .

CYRANO:
Ay, the fairest of the world,
Most brilliant--most refined--most golden-haired!

LE BRET:
Who is this lady?

CYRANO:
She's a danger mortal,
All unsuspicious--full of charms unconscious,
Like a sweet perfumed rose--a snare of nature,
Within whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush!
He who has seen her smile has known perfection,
--Instilling into trifles grace's essence,
Divinity in every careless gesture;
Not Venus' self can mount her conch blown sea-ward,
As she can step into her chaise a porteurs,
Nor Dian fleet across the woods spring-flowered,
Light as my Lady o'er the stones of Paris!. . .

LE BRET:
Sapristi! all is clear!

CYRANO:
As spiderwebs!

LE BRET:
Your cousin, Madeleine Robin?

CYRANO:
Roxane!

LE BRET:
Well, but so much the better! Tell her so!
She saw your triumph here this very night!

CYRANO:
Look well at me--then tell me, with what hope
This vile protuberance can inspire my heart!
I do not lull me with illusions--yet
At times I'm weak: in evening hours dim
I enter some fair pleasance, perfumed sweet;
With my poor ugly devil of a nose
I scent spring's essence--in the silver rays
I see some knight--a lady on his arm,
And think 'To saunter thus 'neath the moonshine,
I were fain to have my lady, too, beside!'
Thought soars to ecstasy. . .O sudden fall!
--The shadow of my profile on the wall!

LE BRET (tenderly):
My friend!. . .

CYRANO:
My friend, at times 'tis hard, 'tis bitter,
To feel my loneliness--my own ill-favor. . .

LE BRET (taking his hand):
You weep?

CYRANO:
No, never! Think, how vilely suited
Adown this nose a tear its passage tracing!
I never will, while of myself I'm master,
let the divinity of tears--their beauty
Be wedded to such common ugly grossness.
Nothing more solemn than a tear--sublimer;
And I would not by weeping turn to laughter
The grave emotion that a tear engenders!

LE BRET:
Never be sad! What's love?--a chance of Fortune!

CYRANO (shaking his head):
Look I a Caesar to woo Cleopatra?
A Tito to aspire to Berenice?

LE BRET:
Your courage and your wit!--The little maid
Who offered you refreshment even now,
Her eyes did not abhor you--you saw well!

CYRANO (impressed):
True!

LE BRET:
Well, how then?. . .I saw Roxane herself
Was death-pale as she watched the duel.

CYRANO:
Pale?

LE BRET:
Her