This page needs to be proofread.
112
CYRANO DE BERGERAC
Whom scowling husbands quake to sea. Blow, 'tararara,' and cry 'Cuckoo. 1 What, ho ! Cadets of Gascony ! Husbands and lovers are game for you !
DE QUICHE
[seated with haughty carelessnest in an arm chair brought quickly by RAGOBNBAU]
A poet ! 'Tis the fashion of the hour ! WiD you be mine ?
CYRANO.
No, Sir, no nun's!
DE GUICHE.
Last night Your fancy pleased my uncle Richelieu. I '11 gladly say a word to him for you.
LE BRET
[overjoyed],
Great Heavens !
DE GUICHE.
I imagine you have rhymed Five acts, or so!
LE BRET
[in CYRANO'S ear].
Your play 1 yonr Agrvppint You '11 see it staged at last!
DE GUICHE.
Take them to him
