Page:Cyrano de Bergerac.djvu/297

Rh The voice that thrilled the night—you, you!

I swear you err.

The soul—it was your soul!

I loved you not.

You loved me not?

'Twas he!

You loved me!

No!

See! how you falter now!

No, my sweet love, I never loved you!

Ah! Things dead, long dead, see! how they rise again! —Why, why keep silence all these fourteen years, When, on this letter, which he never wrote

The tears were your tears?