Scene 3.XII.



The same.  Roxane, Christian, the friar, Ragueneau, lackeys, the duenna.



DE GUICHE (to Roxane):

  You?

(Recognizing Christian, in amazement):

  He?

(Bowing, with admiration, to Roxane):

  Cunningly contrived!

(To Cyrano):

  My compliments--Sir Apparatus-maker!

  Your story would arrest at Peter's gate

  Saints eager for their Paradise!  Note well

  The details.  'Faith!  They'd make a stirring book!



CYRANO (bowing):

  I shall not fail to follow your advice.



THE FRIAR (showing with satisfaction the two lovers to De Guiche):

  A handsome couple, son, made one by you!



DE GUICHE (with a freezing look):

  Ay!

(To Roxane):

  Bid your bridegroom, Madame, fond farewell.



ROXANE:

  Why so?



DE GUICHE (to Christian):

  Even now the regiment departs.

  Join it!



ROXANE:

  It goes to battle?



DE GUICHE:

  Without doubt.



ROXANE:

  But the Cadets go not?



DE GUICHE:

  Oh ay! they go.

(Drawing out the paper he had put in his pocket):

  Here is the order.

(To Christian):

  Baron, bear it, quick!

  

ROXANE (throwing herself in Christian's arms):

  Christian!



DE GUICHE (sneeringly to Cyrano):

  The wedding-night is far, methinks!



CYRANO (aside):

  He thinks to give me pain of death by this!



CHRISTIAN (to Roxane):

  Oh! once again!  Your lips!



CYRANO:

  Come, come, enough!



CHRISTIAN (still kissing Roxane):

  --'Tis hard to leave her, you know not. . .



CYRANO (trying to draw him away):

  I know.



(Sound of drums beating a march in the distance.)



DE GUICHE:

  The regiment starts!



ROXANE (To Cyrano, holding back Christian, whom Cyrano is drawing away):

  Oh!--I trust him you!

  Promise me that no risks shall put his life

  In danger!



CYRANO:

  I will try my best, but promise. . .

  That I cannot!



ROXANE:

  But swear he shall be prudent?



CYRANO:

  Again, I'll do my best, but. . .



ROXANE:

  In the siege

  Let him not suffer!



CYRANO:

  All that man can do,

  I. . .



ROXANE:

  That he shall be faithful!



CYRANO:

  Doubtless, but. . .



ROXANE:

  That he will write oft?



CYRANO (pausing):

  That, I promise you!





Curtain.