ROXANE (without turning round):
What was I saying?. . .
(She embroiders. Cyrano, very pale, his hat pulled down over his eyes, appears. The sister who had announced him retires. He descends the steps slowly, with a visible difficulty in holding himself upright, bearing heavily on his cane. Roxane still works at her tapestry):
Time has dimmed the tints. . .
How harmonize them now?
(To Cyrano, with playful reproach):
For the first time
Late!—For the first time, all these fourteen years!
CYRANO (who has succeeded in reaching the chair, and has seated himself—in a lively voice, which is in great contrast with his pale face):
Ay! It is villainous! I raged—was stayed. . .
ROXANE:
By?. . .
CYRANO:
By a bold, unwelcome visitor.
ROXANE (absently, working):
Some creditor?
CYRANO:
Ay, cousin,—the last creditor
Who has a debt to claim from me.
ROXANE:
And you
Have paid it?
CYRANO:
No, not yet! I put it off;
—Said, ‘Cry you mercy; this is Saturday,
When I have get a standing rendezvous
That naught defers. Call in an hour’s time!’
ROXANE (carelessly):
Oh, well, a creditor can always wait!
I shall not let you go ere twilight falls.
CYRANO:
Haply, perforce, I quit you ere it falls!
(He shuts his eyes, and is silent for a moment. Sister Martha crosses the park from the chapel to the flight of steps. Roxane, seeing her, signs to her to approach.)