(preventing Guiche from passing and holding him by one of his buttons).

If you were to press my nose, Sir, you would cause a flow of milk!....

GUICHE.

Milk, indeed!

CYRANO.

Yes, Sir.... from the Milky Way!

GUICHE.

Oh! by Satan!....

CYRANO.

No! I dropped from heaven! (crossing his arms). Would you believe it? I noticed it as I was going by there: Sirius, at night actually wears a turban! (confidentially) The other Bear, the little one, is still too small to bite! (laughing) As I was passing through the Lyre, I broke one of its strings! (proudly) But I intend to write a book on the subject; and the golden stars that I gathered into my scorched cloak, regardless of peril, shall be used by my printer for asterisks!