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142
CYRANO DE BERGERAC
142
Roxane.
Ay, your poet's jealousy ! Hark now, if this again
be not tender-sweet ? -
' My heart to yours sends but one cry :
If kisses fast could flee
By letter, then with your sweet lips
My letters read should be !
If kisses could be writ with ink,
If kisses fast could flee ! '
Cyrano
[smiling approvingly in spite of himself].
Ha ! those last lines are, hm ! ... hm ! . .
[Correcting himself - contemptuously.]
- They are paltry enough I
Roxane.
And this . . .
Cyrano
[enchanted],
Then you have his letters by heart ?
Roxane.
Every one of them !
Cyrano
By all oaths that can be sworn, 'tis flattering !
Roxane.
They are the lines of a master !
Cyrano
[modestly],
Come, nay ... a master ? . . .
