Cyrano de Bergerac: the nose speech

Offhand: “Hey, friend, is that hook the fashion now? For hanging up your hat, it's handy, I'll allow!” Emphatic: “Imperial nose! No wind could chill you end to end, except the mistral, friend!” Dramatic: “When it bleeds, it's the Red Sea!” Admiring: “What a sign for a perfumery!” Lyrical: “Is that a conch? Are you a Triton from the sea?” Naive: “When can we see the monument? Is entry free?” Respectful: “Allow me, sir, to greet you! There's a man of property, with frontage on the street!” Rustic: “Well I'll be! That a nose? Naw, can't be! That's some great turnip, or a stunted melon, see!” Military: “Aim it at the cavalry!” Practical: “Why not put it in a lottery? Believe me, sir, it's bound to be the winning lot!”

And last, like Pyramus, sobbing on the spot: “Behold the nose that has betrayed its master's features, wrecked their harmony! See it blush, the renegade!”

There, my dear sir, is more or less what you'd have said, if you'd had any letters, or any wit in your head. But wit, you saddest specimen of all the human race, you never had an atom of, and letters, in your case, come down to just the three that spell the word for you: ass! And even had you had the wit it takes, alas, to stand up here before these noble galleries and serve me all these crazy pleasantries, you'd never have got out the quarter, sir, of half of the beginning of just one, for I serve them to myself, with a fair amount of verve, but I do not allow another man to serve.