It is my deepest wish that you forgive the presumptuous nature of this missive.
For, while we are friends, and have known each other for some time, I feel it is necessary to reveal to you a truth which has been hidden from your sight for all too long.
The nature of my crime, I hope you’ll forgive, for it is my poetic heart that has led me to assist another in the task of deception.
But, unlike the evil nature of man, I have not done this to garner fame or fortune…nor have I taken it upon myself to declare myself a leader of men. I am a humble writer and composer of words. I may play the braggart, often enough, but it is the blusterous musings of a harmless mind. Pay no heed to strong words of bravery, about myself…I am in fact in the light of heaven, a coward.
I have squandered days of pure sunlight in the hopes of storing it away in my pocket to be used on a rainy day. Having finally found those storm clouds, at last, i find the sunshine did not keep well…and has grown dim in the cloth where my hands have been.
But, as is all too frequent with me, My words are leading me…us…down trails that will show us nothing of the landscape I wish you to witness. Props and scenery are what you have been presented with, these past months…and I am most wounded to say, that it was to focus the feelings you have in your heart for another..and to magnify his presence, as does the piece of glass, show the ant to be the size of your palm.
The ant, Fair Lady, did not wish you harm.
Nor did the “piece of glass”.
Though its edges are sharp…it wanted only to lend its strength to your situation.
It is of my sincere admiration for you, that I speak. Though you know, I am fond of your company, I lack the fortitude to pursue your heart. When you bandaged my wounded palm, i felt my heart rising up to you..as does the flower to the sun.
Your gentle nature, and beauty, conspire to release in me…at tidal wave. The likes of which no levee built by human hands could contain.
Were I to understand the full nature of my situation, I would indeed find that the writing of this letter is hopeless. Though I search within my soul for an outcome to the present situation, none does present itself which begins with you reading this letter and ends with you in my arms.
I understand, all too well, that I have been the mortar between the bricks of my own prison walls.
But the harsh light of the day, and the solitude of the night, Demand that my hand write these words, even if they are never to be viewed by your beautiful eyes.
Your beloved Christian, is a man of strength and action…and no doubt is the most capable of souls to carry you through the days on this God forsaken earth. What he lacks in vocabulary, he will make up for with a raw and noble spirit. He is the man you think he is. Though his words are not always his own. He has strength of Heart, and character, that make all other men look to him for leadership! He is a fine Soldier, Lady. Of this you can be sure.
I intend to keep my promise to you. Though it is barely within my power to do so, I will attempt to keep him safe from Harm. But in doing this, I do not preserve his life, for His well-being. What I do, I do in your name.
And so, since we are off to battle again. I would send this letter to you. For whatever hardships may befall me on the field of war, I want you to know that I am ever faithful in my service to you.
But I will not journey to heaven without you knowing the truth. And so I have ordered that this letter, be delivered to you…upon my certain death…so that you might live in the darkness no longer.
You have received letters, as of late, from your Christian. and if you have not surmised by now…being the woman of considerable intellect I know you to be…then I will no longer use the flowers on my tongue to cover my rotten stink with perfume.
Though the parchment may occasionally touch the fingers of your love, the words are grown and cultivated in my heart.
I have penned them from the depths of my soul, and applied Christian’s face to the page. He and I, conspirators and thieves, in the plain and despicable plot…to woo your heart and place it on Christian’s mantel.
I, send this…having breathed my last breath…and hoping that you will find the grace of Heaven to forgive this old fool. What I have done, I did in the name of Love.
And in the pursuit, of the proliferation, of power much higher than myself…
and with the greatest respect and admiration, of My Heart.
These words, in this letter, penned by Myself
With no further pretentiousness or desire for gain…
Ever your faithful friend and servant
And with all my heart’s worth of Love
Cyrano de Bergerac