A BURGHER:
’Tis most annoying!
A PAGE:
Fair good sport!
THE PIT:
Kss!—Montfleury. . .Cyrano!
CYRANO:
Silence!
THE PIT (wildly excited):
Ho-o-o-o-h! Quack! Cock-a-doodle-doo!
CYRANO:
I order—
A PAGE:
Miow!
CYRANO:
I order silence, all!
And challenge the whole pit collectively!—
I write your names!—Approach, young heroes, here!
Each in his turn! I cry the numbers out!—
Now which of you will come to ope the lists?
You, Sir? No! You? No! The first duellist
Shall be dispatched by me with honors due!
Let all who long for death hold up their hands!
(A silence):
Modest? You fear to see my naked blade?
Not one name?—Not one hand?—Good, I proceed!
(Turning toward the stage, where Montfleury waits in an agony):
The theater’s too full, congested,—I
Would clear it out. . .If not. . .
(Puts his hand on his sword):
The knife must act!
MONTFLEURY:
I. . .
CYRANO (leaves his chair, and settles himself in the middle of the circle which has formed):
I will clap my hands thrice, thus—full moon! At the third clap, eclipse yourself!