Christian, Cyrano. At back Roxane talking to Carbon and some cadets.
CHRISTIAN (calling toward Cyrano's tent): Cyrano!
CYRANO (reappearing, fully armed): What? Why so pale?
CHRISTIAN: She does not love me!
CYRANO: What?
CHRISTIAN: 'Tis you she loves!
CYRANO: No!
CHRISTIAN: --For she loves me only for my soul!
CYRANO: Truly?
CHRISTIAN: Yes! Thus--you see, that soul is you,. . . Therefore, 'tis you she loves!--And you--love her!
CYRANO: I?
CHRISTIAN: Oh, I know it!
CYRANO: Ay, 'tis true!
CHRISTIAN: You love To madness!
CYRANO: Ay! and worse!
CHRISTIAN: Then tell her so!
CYRANO: No!
CHRISTIAN: And why not?
CYRANO: Look at my face!--be answered!
CHRISTIAN: She'd love me--were I ugly.
CYRANO: Said she so?
CHRISTIAN: Ay! in those words!
CYRANO: I'm glad she told you that! But pooh!--believe it not! I am well pleased She thought to tell you. Take it not for truth. Never grow ugly:--she'd reproach me then!
CHRISTIAN: That I intend discovering!
CYRANO: No! I beg!
CHRISTIAN: Ay! she shall choose between us!--Tell her all!
CYRANO: No! no! I will not have it! Spare me this!
CHRISTIAN: Because my face is haply fair, shall I Destroy your happiness? 'Twere too unjust!
CYRANO: And I,--because by Nature's freak I have The gift to say--all that perchance you feel. Shall I be fatal to your happiness?
CHRISTIAN: Tell all!
CYRANO: It is ill done to tempt me thus!
CHRISTIAN: Too long I've borne about within myself A rival to myself--I'll make an end!
CYRANO: Christian!
CHRISTIAN: Or union, without witness--secret-- Clandestine--can be easily dissolved If we survive.
CYRANO: My God!--he still persists!
CHRISTIAN: I will be loved myself--or not at all! --I'll go see what they do--there, at the end Of the post: speak to her, and then let her choose One of us two!
CYRANO: It will be you.
CHRISTIAN: Pray God! (He calls): Roxane!
CYRANO: No! no!
ROXANE (coming up quickly): What?
CHRISTIAN: Cyrano has things Important for your ear. . .
(She hastens to Cyrano. Christian goes out.)
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