But I repeat to you, Sir!....
CYRANO (with a cry of horror that causes Guiche to fall back).
Good Heavens!.... In this country are people's faces black? Am I in Algiers, and are you a native?
GUICHE (touching his mask).
No doubt, this mask....
CYRANO (seemingly less frightened).
Oh! then, it's Venice.... or Genoa!
GUICHE (trying to pass).
A lady is waiting for me!...
CYRANO (completely reassured).