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CYRANO DE BERGERAC

Cyrano.

Ha, De Guiche?

Roxane.

[casting down her eyes].

Sought to impose on me … for husband…

Cyrano.

Ay! Husband!—dupe-husband! … Husband à-la-mode!

[Bowing.]

Then I fought, happy chance! sweet lady, not
For my ill favour—but your favours fair!

Roxane.

Confession next!… But, ere I make my shrift,
You must be once again that brother-friend
With whom I used to play by the lake-side!…

Cyrano.

Ay, you would come each spring to Bergerac!

Roxane.

Mind you the reeds you cut to make your swords?…

Cyrano.

While you wove corn-straw plaits for your dolls' hair!

Roxane.

Those were the days of games!…

Cyrano.

And blackberries! . .