Falsehood! (Strikes with his sword in the air.) There, there!
Ha, ha! And Compromise!

Bigotry! Cowardice! (Strikes) Shall I make terms?
No, never! never! There is Folly, too!

I knew that in the end you'd lay me low.

No matter. Let me fight! and fight! and fight! (Swings his sword in circles, and stops, panting.) You snatch them all away laurel and rose !

Snatch on! One thing is left in spite of you,
Which I take with me: and this very night,
When I shall cross the threshold of God's house,
And enter, bowing low, this I shall take
Despite you, without wrinkle, without spot-
(Rushes forward with brandished sword.)

(The sword falls from his hands. He staggers, and falls into the arms of Le Bret and Ragueneau.)

ROXANE (leaning over him and kissing his forehead). What? CYRANO (opens his eyes, recognizes her, and says with a smile). My stainless soldier's crest!

CLAUDE JOSEPH ROUGET DE LISLE.

ROUGET DE LISLE, CLAUDE JOSEPH, a French soldier and composer of songs; born at Montaigu, Lons-le-Saulnier, France, May 10, 1760; died at Choisy-le-Roi, June 27, 1836. His father was a Royalist, and the son refused to take the oath of allegiance to the constitution abolishing the crown, and was stripped of his rank as first lieutenant and imprisoned. He escaped after the death of Robespierre, was wounded in battle, and retired to Montaigu, where his life was one continual battle against death by starvation. He wrote a number of songs, but is best known by "La Marseillaise," first called "Chant de Guerre pour l'Armée du Rhin." When broken by age Rouget de Lisle was decorated with the ribbon of the Legion of Honor.

THE MARSEILLAISE.

YE sons of freedom, wake to glory!

Hark! hark! what myriads bid you rise!
Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,
Behold their tears and hear their cries!
Shall hateful tyrants, mischiefs breeding,
With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,
Affright and desolate the land,
While peace and liberty lie bleeding?
To arms! to arms! ye brave!

The avenging sword unsheath;

March on march on! all hearts resolved
On victory or death.

Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling,
Which treacherous kings confederate raise;
The dogs of war, let loose, are howling,
And lo! our fields and cities blaze;

And shall we basely view the ruin,

While lawless force, with guilty stride,
Spreads desolation far and wide,

With crimes and blood his hands imbruing?

To arms! to arms! ye brave!

The avenging sword unsheath;

March on march on all hearts resolved
On victory or death.

With luxury and pride surrounded
The vile, insatiate despots dare
(Their thirst of power and gold unbounded)
To mete and vend the light and air.
Like beasts of burden would they load us,
Like gods would bid their slaves adore;
But mau is man and who is more?
Then shall they longer lash and goad us?
To arms to arms! ye brave!

The avenging sword unsheath;
March on

march on! all hearts resolved On victory or death.

O Liberty! can man resign thee,

Once having felt thy generous flame?
Can dungeons, bolts, or bars confine thee?
Or whips thy noble spirit tame?
Too long the world has wept, bewailing

That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield,
But freedom is our sword and shield,

And all their arts are unavailing.

To arms! to arms! ye brave !

The avenging sword unsheath;

March on march on! all hearts resolved
On victory or death.