But, Sir, you deprive us of the pleasure of hearing "La Clorise." I insist....
CYRANO (turning in his chair toward the tradesman respectfully).
Venerable mule, Baro's verse is worthless. I interrupt without the slightest remorse.
THE "PRÉCIEUSES" (in the boxes).
Baro! Our Baro! Heavens! Is it possible?
CYRANO (turning his chair to the boxes, with great courtesy).
Fair beings ....
Irradiate and bloom, be Hebes, all,
Dispensing dream; with smile make death a feast
To us——inspire verse.... but judge it not!
BELLEROSE.
How about the money we'll have to return?
CYRANO (turning his chair toward the stage).