an):
I will remain awhile.--Let me taste this rivesalte.

(He sits by the buffet; the girl pours some out for him.)

CRIES (from all the audience, at the entrance of a plump little man, joyously
excited):
Ah! Ragueneau!

LIGNIERE (to Christian):
'Tis the famous tavern-keeper Ragueneau.

RAGUENEAU (dressed in the Sunday clothes of a pastry-cook, going up quickly to
Ligniere):
Sir, have you seen Monsieur de Cyrano?

LIGNIERE (introducing him to Christian):
The pastry-cook of the actors and the poets!

RAGUENEAU (overcome):
You do me too great honor. . .

LIGNIERE:
Nay, hold your peace, Maecenas that you are!

RAGUENEAU:
True, these gentlemen employ me. . .

LIGNIERE:
On credit!
He is himself a poet of a pretty talent. . .

RAGUENEAU:
So they tell me.

LIGNIERE:
--Mad after poetry!

RAGUENEAU:
'Tis true that, for a little ode. . .

LIGNIERE:
You give a tart. . .

RAGUENEAU:
Oh!--a tartlet!

LIGNIERE:
Brave fellow! He would fain fain excuse himself!
--And for a triolet, now, did you not give in exchange. . .

RAGUENEAU:
Some little rolls!

LIGNIERE (severely):
They were milk-rolls! And as for the theater, which you love?

RAGUENEAU:
Oh! to distraction!

LIGNIERE:
How pay you your tickets, ha?--with cakes.
Your place, to-night, come tell me in my ear, what did it cost you?

RAGUENEAU:
Four custards, and fifteen cream-puffs.
(He looks around on all sides):
Monsieur de Cyrano is not here? 'Tis strange.

LIGNIERE:
Why so?

RAGUENEAU:
Montfleury plays!

LIGNIERE:
Ay, 'tis true that that old wine-barrel is to take Phedon's part to-night;
but what matter is that to Cyrano?

RAGUENEAU:
How? Know you not? He has got a hot hate for Montfleury, and so!--has
forbid him strictly to show his face on the stage for one whole month.

LIGNIERE (drinking his fourth glass):
Well?

RAGUENEAU:
Montfleury will play!

CUIGY:
He can not hinder that.

RAGUENEAU:
Oh! oh! that I have come to see!

FIRST MARQUIS:
Who is this Cyrano?

CUIGY:
A fellow well skilled in all tricks of fence.

SECOND MARQUIS:
Is he of noble birth?

CUIGY:
Ay, noble enough. He is a cadet in the Guards.
(Pointing to a gentleman who is going up and down the hall as if searching for
some one):
But 'tis his friend Le Bret, yonder, who can best tell you.
(He calls him):
Le Bret!
(Le Bret comes towards them):
Seek you for De