The Bore
[stammering].
No; small, quite small—minute!
Cyrano.
No; small, quite small—minute! Minute! What now!
Accuse me of a thing ridiculous!
Small—my nose?
The Bore.
Small—my nose? Heaven help me!
Cyrano.
Small—my nose? Heaven help me! 'Tis enormous!
Old Flathead, empty-headed meddler, know
That I am proud, possessing such appendice.
'Tis well known, a big nose is indicative
Of a soul affable, and kind, and courteous,
Liberal, brave, just like myself, and such
As you can never dare to dream yourself,
Rascal contemptible! For that witless face
That my hand soon will come to cuff,—is all
As empty…
[He cuffs him.]
The Bore.
As empty… Aie!
Cyrano.
As empty… Aie! —of pride, of aspiration,
Of feeling, poetry,—of godlike spark
Of all that appertains to my big nose,
[He turns him, by the shoulders, suiting the action to the word.]
As… what my boot will shortly come and kick!
