THE DUENNA:
To-morrow, at the early blush of dawn,
We go to hear mass at St. Roch.
CYRANO (leaning against Le Bret):
My God!
THE DUENNA:
After—what place for a few minutes’ speech?
CYRANO (confused):
Where? Ah!. . .but. . .Ah, my God!. . .
THE DUENNA:
Say!
CYRANO:
I reflect!. . .
THE DUENNA:
Where?
CYRANO:
At—the pastry-house of Ragueneau.
THE DUENNA:
Where lodges he?
CYRANO:
The Rue—God!—St. Honore!