CARBON:
OPEN YOUR CHARGES WITH YOUR TEETH!
ROXANE:
His cheek
Grows cold against my own!
CARBON:
READY! PRESENT!
ROXANE (seeing a letter in Christian’s doublet):
A letter!. . .
’Tis for me!
(She opens it.)
CYRANO (aside):
My letter!
CARBON:
FIRE!
(Musket reports—shouts—noise of battle.)
CYRANO (trying to disengage his hand, which Roxane on her knees is holding):
But, Roxane, hark, they fight!
ROXANE (detaining him):
Stay yet awhile.
For he is dead. You knew him, you alone.
(Weeping quietly):
Ah, was not his a beauteous soul, a soul
Wondrous!