Cyrano
[going on with the air, and singing to it].
'Tis I, who come to serenade your lilies, and pay my devoir to your ro-o-oses !
Roxane.
I am coming down !
[She leaves the balcony.]
The duenna
[pointing to the Pages].
How come these two virtuosi here ?
Cyrano.
'Tis for a wager I won of D'Assoucy. We were disputing a nice point in grammar ; contradictions raged hotly - 'Tis so !' 'Nay, 'tis so !' when suddenly he shows me these two long-shanks, whom he takes about with him as an escort, and who are skilful in scratching lute-strings with their skinny claws ! 'I will wager you a day's music,' says he ! - And lost it ! Thus, see you, till Phoebus' chariot starts once again, these lute-twangers are at my heels, seeing all I do, hearing all I say, and accompanying all with melody ! 'Twas pleasant at the first, but i' faith, I begin to weary of it already !
[To the Musicians.]
Ho there ! go serenade Montfleury for me ! Play a dance to him !
[The Pages go towards the door. To the Duenna.]
I have come, as is my wont, nightly, to ask Roxane whether . . .
[To the Pages, who are going out.]
Play a long time, - and play out of tune !
