Cyrano de Bergerac

Montfleury:
Thrice happy he who hides from pomp and power/ In sylvan shade or or solitary bower/ Where balmy zephyrs fan his burning cheeks...

Cyrano de Bergerac:
Clown! King of Clowns! Leave the stage at once!

Montfleury:
Sir, I will not allow you to insult me in this manner.

Cyrano de Bergerac:
Really? In what manner would you prefer?

Cyrano de Bergerac:
Very well, let the old fellow come now. He shall find me on my feet sword in hand.

Roxane:
Cyrano!

Le Bret:
He's delirious.

Cyrano de Bergerac:
I can see him now - he grins. He is looking at my nose, that skeleton. You there - who are you? A hundred against one, eh? I know them now, my ancient enemies...

Cyrano de Bergerac:
Falsehood! There! There! Prejudice! Compromise! Cowardice! What's that? Surrender? No! Never! Never!

Cyrano de Bergerac:
Ah, you too, Vanity? I knew you would overthrow me in the end. No! I fight on! I fight on! I fight on!

Cyrano de Bergerac:
All my laurels you have riven away... and my roses; yet in spite of you there is one crown I bear away with me. And tonight, when I enter before God, my salute shall sweep away all the stars from the blue threshold! One thing without stain, unspotted from the world in spite of doom mine own

Cyrano de Bergerac:
and that is... my white plume.

Cyrano de Bergerac:
You may go/ Or tell me, why are you staring at my nose?

The Meddler:
No!

Cyrano de Bergerac:
It disgusts you then? Does its color appear to you unwholesome? /Or its form obscene? Perhaps a pimple ornaments the end of it, /Or a fly parading up and down,/ What is this portent, this phenomenon?

The Meddler:
But I've been careful not to look!

Cyrano de Bergerac:
And why not, if you please?/ Possibly you find it just a trifle large!

Antoine Comte de Guiche:
As for you sir, have you read "Don Quixote"?

Cyrano de Bergerac:
I have, and found myself the hero.

Antoine Comte de Guiche:
Be so good as to read once more the chapter of the windmills... Windmills, remember, if you fight with them...

Cyrano de Bergerac:
My enemies change, then, with every wind?

Antoine Comte de Guiche:
...may swing round their huge arms and cast you down into the mire!

Cyrano de Bergerac:
Or up, among the stars!