Page:Cyrano de Bergerac.djvu/138

126 A noseful. ..

Onions, brandy-cups ! I leapt out, head well down. ..

Nosing the wind

I charge ! gore two, impale one run him through, One aims at me Paf 1 and I parry. ..

Pif!

Great God t Out ! all of you !

The tiger waken !

Every man, out ! Leave me alone with him t

We shall find him minced fine, minced into haafc In a big pasty !

I am turning pale, And curl up, like a napkin, limp and white '

Let us be gone.