Cyrano de Bergerac

"Vicomte de Valvert: Monsieur, your nose... your nose is rather large. Cyrano de Bergerac: Rather? Vicomte de Valvert: Oh, well... Cyrano de Bergerac: Is that all? Vicomte de Valvert: Well of course... Cyrano de Bergerac: Oh, no, young sir. You are too simple. Why, you might have said a great many things. Why waste your opportunity? For example, thus: AGGRESSIVE: I, sir, if that nose were mine, I'd have it amputated on the spot. PRACTICAL: How do you drink with such a nose? You must have had a cup made especially. DESCRIPTIVE: 'Tis a rock, a crag, a cape! A cape? Say rather, a peninsula! INQUISITIVE: What is that receptacle? A razor case or a portfolio? KINDLY: Ah, do you love the little birds so much that when they come to see you, you give them this to perch on. CAUTIOUS: Take care! A weight like that might make you top-heavy. ELOQUENT: When it blows, the typhoon howls, and the clouds darken! DRAMATIC: When it bleeds, the Red Sea. SIMPLE: When do they unveil the monument? MILITARY: Beware, a secret weapon. ENTERPRISING: What a sign for some perfumer! RESPECTFUL: Sir, I recognize in you a man of parts. A man of... prominence! Or, LITERARY: Was this the nose that launched a thousand ships? These, my dear sir, are things you might have said, had you some tinge of letters or of wit to color your discourse. But wit? Not so, you never had an atom. And of letters, you need but three to write you down: A, S, S. Ass! Vicomte de Valvert: Insolent puppy, dolt, bunpkin, fool! Cyrano de Bergerac: How do you do? And I, Cyrano Savinien Hercule de Bergerac. Antoine Comte de Guiche: Vicomte, come. Vicomte de Valvert: Such arrogance, this scarecrow. Look at him! No ribbons, no lace, not even gloves! Cyrano de Bergerac: True! I carry my adornments only on my soul, decked with deeds instead of ribbons. Manful in my good name, and crowned with the white plume of freedom. Vicomte de Valvert: But... Cyrano de Bergerac: But, I have no gloves. A pity too. I had one - the last of an old pair - and lost that. Very careless of me. A gentleman offered me an impertinence. I left it - in his face. Vicomte de Valvert: [Drawing his rapier] So be it! Cyrano de Bergerac: You shall die exquisitely! Vicomte de Valvert: Oh, a poet? Cyrano de Bergerac: Oh, yes, a poet. So, while we fight, I'll improvise a ballade for you, and as I end the refrain, thrust home. Vicomte de Valvert: Will you? Cyrano de Bergerac: I will. Ballade of the duel at the Theatre of the Burgoyne, between de Bergerac and... a barbarian. Vicomte de Valvert: What do you mean by that? Cyrano de Bergerac: Oh, that? The title."

"Cyrano de Bergerac: What would you have me do? Seek for the patronage of some great man and like a creeping vine on a tall tree, crawl upward where I cannot stand alone? No thank you! Be a buffoon in the vile hope of teasing out a smile on some cold face? No thank you! Eat a toad for breakfast each morning? Make my knees callous? Cultivate a supple spine? Wear out my belly groveling in the dust? No thank you! With my left hand, scratch the back of any swine that roots up gold for me, while my right, too proud to know his partner's business, takes in the fee? No thank you! Shall I use the fire God gave me, to burn incense all day long? No, thank you! Struggle to insinuate my name into the columns of the Gazette? Calculate, scheme, be afraid? Love more to make a visit than a poem? Seek introductions, favors, influences? No, thank you! No, I thank you and again, I thank you!"