Thus sitting, plump, right in the Scales ! My weight
Is marked, still registered, up there in heaven !
[Hurriedly preventing De Guiche from passing, and detaining him by the button of his doublet.]
I swear to you that if you squeezed my nose
It would spout milk !
De Guiche.
Milk?
Cyrano.
From the Milky Way !
De Guiche.
Oh, go to hell !
Cyrano
[crossing his arms].
I fall, Sir, out of heaven !
Now, would you credit it, that as I fell
I saw that Sirius wears a nightcap ? True I
[Confidentially.]
The other Bear is still too small to bite.
[Laughing.]
I went through the Lyre, but I snapped a cord ;
[Grandiloquent.]
I mean to write the whole thing in a book ;
The small gold stars, that, wrapped up in my cloak
I carried safe away at no small risks
Will serve for asterisks i' the printed page !
De Guiche.
Come, make an end ! I want . . .