82
CYRANO DE BERGERAC
Cyrano.
Prythee, take them aside when I shall make yon sign to do so…. What 's o'clock?
Ragueneau.
Ten minutes after six.
Cyrano
[nervously seating himself at Ragueneau's table, and drawing some paper towards him].
A pen!…
Ragueneau
[giving him the one from behind his ear].
Here—a swan's quill.
A Musketeer
[with fierce moustache, enters, and in a stentorian voice],
Good-day!
[Lise goes up to him quickly.]
Cyrano
[turning round].
Who's that?
Ragueneau.
'Tis a friend of my wife—a terrible warrior—at least so says he himself.
Cyrano
[taking up the pen, and motioning Ragueneau away].
Hush!—[To himself.] I will write, fold it, give it her, and fly!—[Throws down the pen.] Coward!
