my impetus--
To rarefy air, in a cedar case,
By mirrors placed icosahedron-wise.

DE GUICHE (making another step):
Two!

CYRANO (still stepping backward):
Or--for I have some mechanic skill--
To make a grasshopper, with springs of steel,
And launch myself by quick succeeding fires
Saltpeter-fed to the stars' pastures blue!

DE GUICHE (unconsciously following him and counting on his fingers):
Three!

CYRANO:
Or (since fumes have property to mount)--
To charge a globe with fumes, sufficiently
To carry me aloft!

DE GUICHE (same play, more and more astonished):
Well, that makes four!

CYRANO:
Or smear myself with marrow from a bull,
Since, at the lowest point of Zodiac,
Phoebus well loves to suck that marrow up!

DE GUICHE (amazed):
Five!

CYRANO (who, while speaking, had drawn him to the other side of the square
near a bench):
Sitting on an iron platform--thence
To throw a magnet in the air. This is
A method well conceived--the magnet flown,
Infallibly the iron will pursue:
Then quick! relaunch your magnet, and you thus
Can mount and mount unmeasured distances!

DE GUICHE:
Here are six excellent expedients!
Which of the six chose you?

CYRANO:
Why, none!--a seventh!

DE GUICHE:
Astonishing! What was it?

CYRANO:
I'll recount.

DE GUICHE:
This wild eccentric becomes interesting!

CYRANO (making a noise like the waves, with weird gestures):
Houuh! Houuh!

DE GUICHE:
Well.

CYRANO:
You have guessed?

DE GUICHE:
Not I!

CYRANO:
The tide!
I' th' witching hour when the moon woos the wave,
I laid me, fresh from a sea-bath, on the shore--
And, failing not to put head foremost--for
The hair holds the sea-water in its mesh--
I rose in air, straight! straight! like angel's flight,
And mounted, mounted, gently, effortless,. . .
When lo! a sudden shock! Then. . .

DE GUICHE (overcome by curiosity, sitting down on the bench):
Then?

CYRANO:
Oh! then. . .
(Suddenly returning to his natural voice):
The quarter's gone--I'll hinder you no more:
The marriage-vows are made.

DE GUICHE (springing up):
What? Am I mad?
That voice?
(The house-door opens. Lackeys appear carrying lighted candelabra. Light.
Cyrano gracefully uncovers):
That nose--Cyrano?

CYRANO (bowing):
Cyrano.
While we were chatting, they have plighted troth.

DE GUICHE:
Who?
(He turns round. Tableau. Behind