A (changing her expression):
Ha.

CYRANO:
What say you to the cake they call a little puff?

THE DUENNA:
If made with cream, Sir, I love them passing well.

CYRANO:
Here I plunge six for your eating into the bosom of a poem by Saint Amant!
And in these verses of Chapelain I glide a lighter morsel. Stay, love you hot
cakes?

THE DUENNA:
Ay, to the core of my heart!

CYRANO (filling her arms with the bags):
Pleasure me then; go eat them all in the street.

THE DUENNA:
But. . .

CYRANO (pushing her out):
And come not back till the very last crumb be eaten!

(He shuts the door, comes down toward Roxane, and, uncovering, stands at a
respectful distance from her.)

Scene 2.VI.

Cyrano, Roxane.

CYRANO:
Blessed be the moment when you condescend--
Remembering that humbly I exist--
To come to meet me, and to say. . .to tell?. . .

ROXANE (who has unmasked):
To thank you first of all. That dandy count,
Whom you checkmated in brave sword-play
Last night,. . .he is the man whom a great lord,
Desirous of my favor. . .

CYRANO:
Ha, De Guiche?

ROXANE (casting down her eyes):
Sought to impose on me. . .for husband. . .

CYRANO:
Ay! Husband!--dupe-husband!. . .Husband a la mode!
(Bowing):
Then I fought, happy chance! sweet lady, not
For my ill favor--but your favors fair!

ROXANE:
Confession next!. . .But, ere I make my shrift,
You must be once again that brother-friend
With whom I used to play by the lake-side!. . .

CYRANO:
Ay, you would come each spring to Bergerac!

ROXANE:
Mind you the reeds you cut to make your swords?. . .

CYRANO:
While you wove corn-straw plaits for your dolls' hair!

ROXANE:
Those were the days of games!. . .

CYRANO:
And blackberries!. . .

ROXANE:
In those days you did everything I bid!. . .

CYRANO:
Roxane, in her short frock, was Madeleine. . .

ROXANE:
Was I fair then?

CYRANO:
You were not ill to see!

ROXANE:
Ofttimes, with hands all bloody from a fall,
You'd run to me! Then--aping mother-ways--
I, in a voice would-be severe, would chide,--
(She takes his hand):
'What is this scratch, again, that I see here?'
(She starts, surprised):
Oh! 'Tis too much! What's this?
(Cyrano tries to draw away his hand):
No, let me see!
At your age, fie! Where did you get that scratch?

CYRANO:
I got it--playing at the Porte de Nesle.

ROXANE (seating herself by the