Defeats De Valvert in a swordfight while composing a ballad

DE VALVERT:
What is the matter with you?
CYRANO:
The cramp! I have a cramp in my sword!
DE VALVERT:
[drawing his own sword] So be it!
CYRANO:
You shall feel a charming little stroke!
DE VALVERT:
[contemptuously] Poet!
CYRANO:
Yes, a poet, Sir! And to demonstrate my skills as such, I will compose a ballade as we fight.
DE VALVERT:
A ballade?
CYRANO:
Do you not know what a ballade is?
DE VALVERT:
But—
CYRANO:
[reciting, as if repeating a lesson] Know then that the ballade should contain three eight-versed
couplets …
DE VALVERT:
[stamping his foot] Oh!
CYRANO:
[still reciting] And an envoi of four lines …
DE VALVERT:
You—
CYRANO:
I'll make one as we fight, and on the last line, I shall thrust my sword home.
DE VALVERT:
No!
CYRANO:
No? [declaiming loudly] Ballade of the duel between de Bergerac and a fool—here in the Hotel
Burgundy!
DE VALVERT:
What's all that?
CYRANO:
That is the title.
AUDIENCE:
[greatly excited] Quiet!—Make room!—Fair play!—What sport!
[A circle of curious spectators forms in the pit. The MARQUISES and OFFICERS mingle with the common
people. The PAGES climb on each other's shoulders to see better. All the WOMEN stand up in the boxes. To
the right stand DE GUICHE and his retinue. To the left are LE BRET, RAGUENEAU CYRANO, etc.]
CYRANO:
[shutting his eyes for a second] Wait while I choose my lines. Ah, now I have them!
[He matches each action to each word.]
I lightly doff my hat down low,
And, freeing hand and heel,
My heavy cloak away I throw,
And I draw my polished steel.
Graceful as Phoebus, round I wheel,
With swiftness and skill alike,
“Careful now,” I say with zeal,
For at the end of the refrain I shall strike!
[They begin fencing.]
Better for you had you lain low.
Where shall I hit you? In the heel?
Or how about the heart, my worthless foe?
Or in the hip, and make you kneel?
Oh, for the music of clashing steel!
Where shall I land my spike?
’Twill be in the belly the stroke I steal,
When, at the end of the refrain I shall strike!
Oh, for a word that rhymes with “o”!
You wriggle, so white, my eel!
Your face is as pale as fresh snow, As I parry the point of your steel.
Oh there, a thrust you hoped I'd feel!
But alas, you missed, little tyke!
Now we're nearing the close of this deal. Watch out! At the end of the refrain I strike!
[He declaims solemnly.]
Refrain:
And now I shall make you kneel.
Pray for your soul if you like!
I thrust [He thrusts.] and your fate I seal,
As at the end of the refrain—[DE VALVERT staggers; CYRANO salutes.]
I strike!
[Acclamations and applause rise from the boxes. Flowers and handkerchiefs are thrown down. The
OFFICERS surround CYRANO, congratulating him. RAGUENEAU dances for joy. LE BRET is happy, but
anxious. DE VALVERT'S friends hold him up and bear him away.]

(Scene IV, Page 33)