A PAGE.
Oh! What fun!
THE PIT.
Kss! Kss! Montfleury! Cyrano!
CYRANO.
Silence! Such is my order. I challenge the whole pit! Now for the names! Come up here, young heroes. Take the line, please; I'll distribute numbers. Well, who'll be number one? You, Sir? No! You, then? No! I'll favour number one by prompt attendance. Let any one who desires to die hold up a hand.
(Silence around him.)
Oh! I see. You are prudish and would not like to see a blade naked. Not a name? Not a hand?—Very well, then, I continue.
(Turning again to the stage, on which Montfleury is waiting in agony).