Copernicus said....
ROXANE.
Dreadful! dreadful!
CYRANO.
What the deuce was he doing, what the deuce was he doing in that galley?....
Philosopher and physicist,
A rimester, swordsman and musician,
A man who travelled in the air
As prompt with parry as reply,
A lover too—alas!—here lies
Sir Hercules, Savinian
De Cyrano de Bergerac,
Who compassed all and still was naught.
But I must leave! I would not cause a wait.
Your pardon. See! the moon sends down for me!
(A ray of light from the moon is on him. He falls back into his chair. The weeping of Roxane wakes him from his dreamy state. He looks at her and strokes her veil.)
I would not have you weep a wit the less
For Christian, who was all that's good and grand.
But, when the hand of ice has laid me low,
I would your weeds might have a double sense
Of mourning: first for him....and then for me!
ROXANE.