It lacks nothing but the address. You may send it. Feel no anxiety. It is as it should be.
CHRISTIAN.
But how is it that you?....
CYRANO.
We poets have about us, as a rule,
Fine letters to the women we adore....
In our dreams. For we belong to those
Whose love is but a fleeting fancy blown
Into the rainbow-bubble of a name!
Take this and make a truth of what is feigned.
My rambling words of rapture flutter like
Bewildered birds; you'll cause them to alight.
The letter shows, itself—now take it!—that
My eloquence was born of artifice.
CHRISTIAN.
But there may be a few words to change. Thus, written at random, will it fit Roxane?
CYRANO.
It will fit her like a glove! Human vanity is so credulous that Roxane will never doubt the letter was written for her!