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

(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. . .

Ha, De Guiche?

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

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!

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!. . .

Ay, you would come each spring to Bergerac!

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

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

Those were the days of games!. . .

And blackberries!. . .

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

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

Was I fair then?

You were not ill to see!

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?

I got it--playing at the Porte de Nesle. ROXANE (seating herself by the table, and dipping her handkerchief in a glass of water): Give here!

(sitting by her) So soft! so gay maternal-sweet!

And tell me, while I wipe away the blood, How many 'gainst you?

Oh! A hundred--near.

Come, tell me!

No, let be. But you, come tell The thing, just now, you dared not. . .

(keeping his hand) Now, I dare! The scent of those old days emboldens me! Yes, now I dare. Listen. I am in love.

Ah!. . .

But with one who knows not.

Ah!. . .

Not yet.

Ah!. . .

But who, if he knows not, soon shall learn.

Ah!. . .

A poor youth who all this time has loved Timidly, from afar, and dares not speak. . .

Ah!. . .

Leave your hand; why, it is fever-hot!-- But I have seen love trembling on his lips.

Ah!. . .

(bandaging his hand with her handkerchief) And to think of it! that he by chance-- Yes, cousin, he is of your regiment!

Ah!. . .

(laughing) --Is cadet in your own company!

Ah!. . .

On his brow he bears the genius-stamp; He is proud, noble, young, intrepid, fair. . .

(rising suddenly, very pale) Fair!

Why, what ails you?

Nothing; 'tis. . . (He shows his hand, smiling): This scratch!

I love him; all is said. But you must know I have only seen him at the Comedy. . .

How? You have never spoken?

Eyes can speak.

How know you then that he. . .?

Oh! people talk 'Neath the limes in the Place Royale. . . Gossip's chat Has let me know. . .

He is cadet?

In the Guards.

His name?

Baron Christian de Neuvillette.

How now?. . .He is not of the Guards!

To-day He is not join your ranks, under Captain Carbon de Castel-Jaloux.

Ah, how quick, How quick the heart has flown!. . .But, my poor child. . .

(opening the door) The cakes are eaten, Monsieur Bergerac!

Then read the verses printed on the bags! (She goes out): . . .My poor child, you who love but flowing words, Bright wit,--what if he be a lout unskilled?

No, his bright locks, like D'Urfe's heroes. . .

Ah! A well-curled pate, and witless tongue, perchance!

Ah no! I guess--I feel--his words are fair!

All words are fair that lurk 'neath fair mustache! --Suppose he were a fool!. . .

(stamping her foot) Then bury me!

(after a pause) Was it to tell me this you brought me here? I fail to see what use this serves, Madame.

Nay, but I felt a terror, here, in the heart, On learning yesterday you were Gascons All of your company. . .

And we provoke All beardless sprigs that favor dares admit 'Midst us pure Gascons--(pure! Heaven save the mark! They told you that as well?

Ah! Think how I Trembled for him!

(between his teeth) Not causelessly!

But when Last night I saw you,--brave, invincible,-- Punish that dandy, fearless hold your own Against those brutes, I thought--I thought, if he Whom all fear, all--if he would only. . .

Good. I will befriend your little Baron.

Ah! You'll promise me you will do this for me? I've always held you as a tender friend.

Ay, ay.

Then you will be his friend?

I swear!

And he shall fight no duels, promise!

None.

You are kind, cousin! Now I must be gone. (She puts on her mask and veil quickly; then, absently): You have not told me of your last night's fray. Ah, but it must have been a hero-fight!. . . --Bid him to write. (She sends him a kiss with her fingers): How good you are!

Ay! Ay!

A hundred men against you? Now, farewell.-- We are great friends?

Ay, ay!

Oh, bid him write! You'll tell me all one day--A hundred men!-- Ah, brave!. . .How brave!

(bowing to her) I have fought better since.