Roxane, standing.)

CHRISTIAN (starting):
Who is yonder man?

LIGNIERE (who is becoming tipsy, winking at him):
Ha! ha! Count de Guiche. Enamored of her. But wedded to the niece of
Armand de Richelieu. Would fain marry Roxane to a certain sorry fellow, one
Monsieur de Valvert, a viscount--and--accommodating! She will none of that
bargain; but De Guiche is powerful, and can persecute the daughter of a plain
untitled gentleman. More by token, I myself have exposed this cunning plan of
his to the world, in a song which. . .Ho! he must rage at me! The end hit
home. . .Listen!

(He gets up staggering, and raises his glass, ready to sing.)

CHRISTIAN:
No. Good-night.

LIGNIERE:
Where go you?

CHRISTIAN:
To Monsieur de Valvert!

LIGNIERE:
Have a care! It is he who will kill you
(showing him Roxane by a look):
Stay where you are--she is looking at you.

CHRISTIAN:
It is true!

(He stands looking at her. The group of pickpockets seeing him thus, head in
air and open-mouthed, draw near to him.)

LIGNIERE:
'Tis I who am going. I am athirst! And they expect me--in the taverns!

(He goes out, reeling.)

LE BRET (who has been all round the hall, coming back to Ragueneau reassured):
No sign of Cyrano.

RAGUENEAU (incredulously):
All the same. . .

LE BRET:
A hope is left to me--that he has not seen the playbill!

THE AUDIENCE:
Begin, begin!

Scene 1.III.

The same, all but Ligniere. De Guiche, Valvert, then Montfleury.

A marquis (watching De Guiche, who comes down from Roxane's box, and crosses
the pit surrounded by obsequious noblemen, among them the Viscount de
Valvert):
He pays a fine court, your De Guiche!

ANOTHER:
Faugh!. . .Another Gascon!

THE FIRST:
Ay, but the cold, supple Gascon--that is the stuff success is made of!
Believe me, we had best make our bow to him.

(They go toward De Guiche.)

SECOND MARQUIS:
What fine ribbons! How call you the color, Count de Guiche? 'Kiss me, my
darling,' or 'Timid Fawn?'

DE GUICHE:
'Tis the color called 'Sick Spaniard.'

FIRST MARQUIS:
'Faith! The color speaks truth, for, thanks to your valor, things will soon
go ill for Spain in Flanders.

DE GUICHE:
I go on the stage! Will you come?
(He goes toward the stage, followed by the marquises and gentlemen. Turning,
he calls):
Come you Valvert!

CHRISTIAN (who is watching and listening, starts on hearing this name):
The Viscount