CYRANO:
And if these lords hold not their tongue
Shall feel constrained to make them taste my cane!

ALL THE MARQUISES (rising):
Enough!. . .Montfleury. . .

CYRANO:
If he goes not quick
I will cut off his ears and slit him up!

A VOICE:
But. . .

CYRANO:
Out he goes!

ANOTHER VOICE:
Yet. . .

CYRANO:
Is he not gone yet?
(He makes the gesture of turning up his cuffs):
Good! I shall mount the stage now, buffet-wise,
To carve this fine Italian sausage--thus!

MONTFLEURY (trying to be dignified):
You outrage Thalia in insulting me!