The Bore
[running away].
Help! Call the Guard!
Cyrano.
Help! Call the Guard! Take notice, boobies all,
Who find my visage's centre ornament
A thing to jest at,—that it is my wont—
An if the jester's noble—ere we part
To let him taste my steel, and not my boot!
De Guiche
[who, with the Marquises, has come down from the stage].
But he becomes a nuisance!
The Viscount de Valvert
[shrugging his shoulders].
But he becomes a nuisance! Swaggerer!
De Guiche.
Will no one put him down?…
The Viscount.
Will no one put him down?… No one? But wait!
I'll treat him to… one of my quips!… See here!…
[He goes up to Cyrano, who is watching him, and with a conceited air.]
Sir, your nose is… hm… it is… very big!
Cyrano
[gravely].
Very!
The Viscount
[laughing].
Very! Ha!