Scene 3.IX.



Cyrano, Christian, Roxane.



ROXANE (coming out on the balcony):

  Still there?

  We spoke of a. . .



CYRANO:

  A kiss!  The word is sweet.

  I see not why your lip should shrink from it;

  If the word burns it,--what would the kiss do?

  Oh! let it not your bashfulness affright;

  Have you not, all this time, insensibly,

  Left badinage aside, and unalarmed

  Glided from smile to sigh,--from sigh to weeping?

  Glide gently, imperceptibly, still onward--

  From tear to kiss,--a moment's thrill!--a heartbeat!



ROXANE:

  Hush! hush!



CYRANO:

  A kiss, when all is said,--what is it?

  An oath that's ratified,--a sealed promise,

  A heart's avowal claiming confirmation,--

  A rose-dot on the 'i' of 'adoration,'--

  A secret that to mouth, not ear, is whispered,--

  Brush of a bee's wing, that makes time eternal,--

  Communion perfumed like the spring's wild flowers,--

  The heart's relieving in the heart's outbreathing,

  When to the lips the soul's flood rises, brimming!



ROXANE:

  Hush! hush!



CYRANO:

  A kiss, Madame, is honorable:

  The Queen of France, to a most favored lord

  Did grant a kiss--the Queen herself!



ROXANE:

  What then?



CYRANO (speaking more warmly):

  Buckingham suffered dumbly,--so have I,--

  Adored his Queen, as loyally as I,--

  Was sad, but faithful,--so am I. . .



ROXANE:

  And you

  Are fair as Buckingham!



CYRANO (aside--suddenly cooled):

  True,--I forgot!



ROXANE:

  Must I then bid thee mount to cull this flower?



CYRANO (pushing Christian toward the balcony):

  Mount!



ROXANE:

  This heart-breathing!. . .



CYRANO:

  Mount!



ROXANE:

  This brush of bee's wing!. . .



CYRANO:

  Mount!



CHRISTIAN (hesitating):

  But I feel now, as though 'twere ill done!



ROXANE:

  This moment infinite!. . .



CYRANO (still pushing him):

  Come, blockhead, mount!



(Christian springs forward, and by means of the bench, the branches, and the

pillars, climbs to the balcony and strides over it.)



CHRISTIAN:

  Ah, Roxane!



(He takes her in his arms, and bends over her lips.)



CYRANO:

  Aie!  Strange pain that wrings my heart!

  The kiss, love's feast, so near!  I, Lazarus,

  Lie at the gate in darkness.  Yet to me

  Falls still a crumb or two from the rich man's board--

  Ay, 'tis my heart receives thee, Roxane--mine!

  For on the lips you press you kiss as well

  The words I spoke just now!--my words--my words!

(The lutes play):

  A sad air,--a gay air: the monk!

(He begins to run as if he came from a long way off, and cries out):

  Hola!



ROXANE:

  Who is it?



CYRANO:

  I--I was but passing by. . .

  Is Christian there?



CHRISTIAN (astonished):

  Cyrano!



ROXANE:

  Good-day, cousin!



CYRANO:

  Cousin, good-day!



ROXANE:

  I'm coming!



(She disappears into the house.  At the back re-enter the friar.)



CHRISTIAN (seeing him):

  Back again!



(He follows Roxane.)