(He bows to the musketeer, and goes to the doorway to watch, after looking at the clock.)
LISE (to the musketeer, who has merely bowed in answer to Cyrano’s bow):
How now? Is this your courage?. . .Why turn you not a jest on his nose?
THE MUSKETEER:
On his nose?. . .ay, ay. . .his nose.
(He goes quickly farther away; Lise follows him.)
CYRANO (from the doorway, signing to Ragueneau to draw the poets away):
Hist!. . .
RAGUENEAU (showing them the door on the right):
We shall be more private there. . .
CYRANO (impatiently):
Hist! Hist!. . .
RAGUENEAU (drawing them farther):
To read poetry, ’tis better here. . .
FIRST POET (despairingly, with his mouth full):
What! leave the cakes?. . .
SECOND POET:
Never! Let’s take them with us!