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diff --git a/10747-h/10747.htm b/10747-h/10747.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..017d0c0 --- /dev/null +++ b/10747-h/10747.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9957 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Chantecler | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: 1em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; +} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +/* Poetry */ +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 5%; text-indent: 0em;} +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry in browsers */ +/* .poetry {display: inline-block;} */ +/* large inline blocks don't split well on paged devices */ +@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } +.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block; margin-left: 5%} + +.big {font-size: 1.2em;} +.small {font-size: 0.8em;} + +abbr[title] { + text-decoration: none; +} + + /* ]]> */ </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Chantecler, by Edmond Rostand</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Chantecler<br>Play in Four Acts</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edmond Rostand</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 19, 2004 [EBook #10747]<br> +[Last updated: February 27, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Curtis Weyant, Ginny Brewer and PG Distributed Proofreaders</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHANTECLER ***</div> + + +<h1>CHANTECLER</h1> + +<p class="center big">Play in Four Acts</p> +<p class="center p2">By<br> +<span class="big">EDMOND ROSTAND</span></p> + +<p class="center p2"> +Translated<br> +<span class="small">By</span><br> +<span class="big">GERTRUDE HALL</span></p> + +<p class="center p4">1910</p> + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><i>DRAMATIS PERSONAE</i></h2> +<p class="poetry"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Patou</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Little Scops</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Game-cock</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Hunting Dog</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">A Carrier-pigeon</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Wood-pecker</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Duck</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Speckled Hen</span></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span></span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Gander. A Capon. Chickens. Chicks. A Cockerel.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Swan. A Cuckoo. Night-birds. Fancy Cocks.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Toads. A Turkey-hen. A Goose. A Garden Warbler.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Woodland Warbler. A Spider. A Heron. A Pigeon.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Guinea-pig. Barnyard animals. Woodland Creatures.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rabbits. Birds. Bees. Cicadas. Voices.</span><br> +</p> + +</div> +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>PROLOGUE</h2> + +<p><i>The customary three knocks are heard. The drop-curtain wavers and is +rising, when a voice rings out, “Not yet!” and the</i> <span class="smcap">Manager</span>, <i>a +gentleman of important mien in evening dress, springing from his +proscenium box, hurries toward the stage, repeating, “Not yet!”</i></p> + +<p><i>The curtain is again lowered. The</i> <span class="smcap">Manager</span> <i>turns toward the audience, +and resting one hand on the prompter’s box, addresses them:</i></p> + +<p>The curtain is a wall,—a flying wall. Assured that presently the wall +will fly—why haste? Is it not charming to delay—and just look at it +for a while?</p> + +<p>Charming to sit before a great red wall, hanging beneath two gilt masks +and a scroll—The thrilling moment is when the curtain thrills, and +sounds come from the other side.</p> + +<p>You are desired to-night to listen to those sounds and entering the +scene before you see it, to wonder and surmise—</p> + +<p><i>Bending his ear, the</i> <span class="smcap">Manager</span> <i>listens to the sounds now beginning to +come from behind the curtain.</i></p> + +<p>A footstep—is it a road? A flutter of wings—is it a garden?</p> + +<p><i>The curtain here rippling as if about to rise, the</i> <span class="smcap">Manager</span> +<i>precipitately shouts, “Stop!—Do not raise it yet!” Then again bending +his ear, continues making note of the noises, clear or confused, single +or combined, that from this onward come without stop from behind +the curtain.</i></p> + +<p>A magpie cawing flies away. Great wooden shoes come running over flags. +A courtyard, is it?—If so above a valley—from whence that softened +clamour of birds and barking dogs.</p> + +<p>More and more clearly the scene suggests itself—Magically sound +creates an atmosphere!—A sheep bell tinkles intermittently—Since there +is grazing, we may look for grass.</p> + +<p>A tree, too—a tree must rustle in the breeze, for a bullfinch warbles +his little native song; and a blackbird whistling the song he has caught +by ear, implies, we may presume, a wicker cage.</p> + +<p>The rattling of a wagon run out of a shed—the dripping of a bucket +drawn up overfull—the patter of doves’ feet alighting on a roof—Surely +it is a farmyard—unless it be a mill!</p> + +<p>Rustling of straw, click of a wooden latch—A stable or a haymow there +must be. The locust shrills: the weather then is fine.—Church-bells +ring: it is Sunday then.—Chatter of jays: the woods cannot be far!</p> + +<p>Hark! Nature with the scattered voices of a fair midsummer day is +composing—in a dream!—the most mysterious of overtures—harmonised by +evening distance and the wind!</p> + +<p>And all these sounds—song of a passing girl—laughter of children +jogged by the donkey trotting—faraway gun-reports and hunting-horns +—these sounds describe a holiday.</p> + +<p>A window opens, a door closes—The harness shakes its bells. Is it not +plain in sight, the old farmyard?—The dog sleeps, the cat but +feigns to sleep.</p> + +<p>Sunday!—Farmer and farmer’s wife are starting for the fair. The old +horse paws the ground—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Rough Voice</span><br>[<i>Behind the curtain, through the horse’s pawing.</i>] Whoa, Dapple!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice</span><br> +[<i>As if calling to a laggard.</i>] Come along! We shan’t get home till +morning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Impatient Voice</span><br> +Are you ready?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice</span><br> +Fasten the shutters!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man’s Voice</span><br> +All right!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Woman’s Voice</span><br> +My sunshade!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man’s Voice</span><br> +[<i>Through the cracking of the whip.</i>] Gee up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Manager</span><br> +The wagon to the jingling of the harness rattles off, jolting out +ditties. A turn in the road cuts off the unfinished song.—They are +gone, quite gone. The performance can begin.</p> + +<p>Some philosophers would say there was not a soul left, but we humbly +believe that there are hearts. Man in leaving does not take with him all +drama. One can laugh and suffer without him. [<i>He listens again.</i>]</p> + +<p>Ardently humming, a velvety bumblebee hovers—then is still; he has +plunged into a flower—Let us begin. Pray note that Aesop’s hump +to-night does duty as prompter’s box!</p> + +<p>The members of our company are small, but—[<i>Calling toward the flies.</i>] +Alexander! [<i>To the audience.</i>] He is my chief machinist. [<i>Calling +again.</i>] Let it down!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>From the flies.</i>] It’s coming, sir!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Manager</span><br> +We have lowered between the audience and the stage an invisible screen +of magnifying glass—</p> + +<p>But there the violins are tuning up: Scraping of crystal bows, picking +of strings!—Hush! Let the footlights now leap into brightness, for at a +signal from their little leader the crickets’ orchestra have briskly +fallen to!</p> + +<p>Frrrt! The bumblebee emerges from the flower, shaking the yellow dust—A +Hen comes on the scene as in La Fontaine’s fable. A Cuckoo calls, as in +Beethoven’s symphony.</p> + +<p>Hush! Let the chandelier draw in its myriad lights—for the curious +call-boy of the woods has, airily, to summon us, repeated thrice his +double call—</p> + +<p>And since Nature is one of our performers, and feathered notables are on +our staff—Hush! the curtain must go up: A wood-pecker’s bill has rapped +out the three strokes!</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + + +<h2>ACT I<br> +<span class="small">THE EVENING OF THE PHEASANT-HEN</span></h2> + +<p><i>A farmyard such as the sounds from behind the curtain have described. +At the right, a house over-clambered with wistaria. At the left, the +farmyard gate, letting on to the road. A dog-kennel. At the back, a low +wall, beyond which distant country landscape. The details of the setting +define themselves in the course of the act.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene First</h3> +</div> +<p class="center"><i>The whole barnyard company,</i> <span class="smcap">Hens, Chickens, Chicks, Ducks, Turkeys</span>, +<i>etc.;</i> <span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span> <i>in his cage</i>, <span class="smcap">The Cat</span> <i>asleep on the wall, later</i> +<span class="smcap">A Butterfly</span> <i>on the flowers.</i></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Pecking.</i>] Ah! Delicious!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Hen</span><br> +What are you eating?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>Rushing to the spot.</i>] What’s she eating?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +A small green beetle, crisp and nice, tasting of the rose-leaves he had +lived on.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +[<i>Standing before the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird’s</span> <i>cage.</i>] Really, the Blackbird +whistles amazingly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Any little street urchin can do as much!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Solemnly.</i>] An urchin who had learned of a shepherd in Sicily!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Duck</span><br> +He never whistles his tune to the end—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +That’s too easy, carrying it to the end! [<i>He hums the tune the</i> +<span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>has been whistling.</i>] “How sweet to fare afield, and +cull—and cull—” You should know, Duck, that the thing in art is to +leave off before the end! “And cull—and cull—” Bravo, Blackbird!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>comes out on the little platform in front of his cage +and bows.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chick</span><br> +[<i>Astonished.</i>] Can he get out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +Applause is salt on my tail!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +But his cage?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +He can come out, and he can go in again. His cage has that sort of +spring.—“And cull—and cull—” The whole point is missed if you tell +them what you cull!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +[<i>Catching sight of a</i> <span class="smcap">Butterfly</span> <i>alighting on the flowers above the +wall at the back.</i>] Oh, what a gorgeous butterfly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +On the honey-suckle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +That kind is called an Admiral.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +[<i>Looking after the</i> <span class="smcap">Butterfly</span>.] Now he has settled on a pink.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Turkey</span>.] An Admiral, wherefore?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Obviously because he is neither a seaman nor a soldier.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Our Blackbird has a pretty wit!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Nodding and swinging his red stalactite.</i>] He has better than wit, my +dear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Hen</span><br> +[<i>Watching the</i> <span class="smcap">Butterfly</span>.] It’s sweet—a butterfly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Easy as possible to make! You take a W and set it on top of a Y!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Delighted.</i>] A flourish of his bill, and there you have your +caricature!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +He does better than execute caricatures! Hen, our Blackbird forces you +to think while obliging you to laugh. He is a Teacher in wit’s clothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chick</span><br> +[<i>To a</i> <span class="smcap">Hen</span>.] Mother, why does the Cat hate the Dog?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Because he appropriates his seat at the theatre.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +[<i>Surprised.</i>] They have a theatre?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Where dumb-shows are given.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +Eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The hearthstone from whence both alike wish to watch the play of the +Fire among the Logs.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Delighted.</i>] How aptly he conveys that the hatred of peoples is at +bottom a question of wanting the other’s territory. There’s a brain +for you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Speckled Hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">White Hen</span>, <i>who is pecking.</i>] Do you peck peppers?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Constantly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Speckled Hen</span><br> +How can you stand the sting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +It imparts to the feathers a delicate rosy tint.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Speckled Hen</span><br> +Oh, does it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice in the Distance</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Listen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +[<i>From a greater distance.</i>] Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +The Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Comes running excitedly.</i>] Which Cuckoo? The one who lives in the +woods, or the one who lives in the clock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +[<i>Still further off.</i>] Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +The one of the woods.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>With a sigh of relief.</i>] Oh, I was so afraid of having missed the +other!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Going near enough to her to speak in an undertone.</i>] Do you mean to +say you love him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Sadly.</i>] Without ever having set eyes on him. He lives in a chalet +hanging on the kitchen wall, above the farmer’s great-coat and +fowling-piece. The moment he sings, I rush to the spot, but I never get +there in time to see anything but his little wicket closing. This +evening I mean to stay right here beside the door—[<i>She takes up her +position on the threshold.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +White Hen!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Second</h3> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">The Same</span>, <i>a</i> <span class="smcap">Pigeon</span> <i>on the roof, later</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking about with quick jerks of her head.</i>] Who called me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +A pigeon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[_Looking for him._] Where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +On the sloping roof.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Lifting her head and seeing him.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Though I am the bearer of an important missive, I would not miss the +opportunity—Good evening, Hen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Postman, howdedo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +My duty on the Postal Service of the Air obliging me this summer evening +to pass your habitations, I should be most happy if—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Spying a crumb of some sort.</i>] One moment, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Hen</span><br> +[<i>Running eagerly towards her.</i>] What are you eating?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>Arriving at a run.</i>] What’s she eating?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +A simple grain of wheat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Taking up her conversation with the</i> <span class="smcap">White Hen</span>.] As I was telling you, +I mean to stay right on the door-step there—[<i>Showing the door of +the house.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking at the door.</i>] The door is shut.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +Yes, but I shall hear the hour striking, and I will catch a look at my +Cuckoo by stretching my neck,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>Calling, slightly out of patience.</i>] White Hen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +One moment, please! [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Grey Hen</span>.]—Catch a look at your Cuckoo, +by stretching your neck where?—Where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Pointing with her beak at the small, round opening at the foot of the +door.</i>] Through the cat-hole!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>Raising his voice to a shout.</i>] Am I to be kept here cooling my feet +on your rain-pipe? Hi, there, whitest of Hens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Hopping towards him.</i>] You were saying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +I was about to say—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +What, bluest of Pigeons?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +That I should consider myself past expression fortunate if—But no! I am +abashed at my own boldness!—if I might be so favoured as to be +permitted to get a glimpse—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Of what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Oh, just a glimpse, the very least glimpse of—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>Impatiently.</i>] Of what?—What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Of his comb!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Laughing, to the others.</i>] Ha! ha! he wishes to see—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>In great excitement.</i>] That’s it! Just to see—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +There, there, cool down!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +I am shaking with excitement!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +You are shaking down the roof!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +You can’t think how we admire him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Oh, everyone admires him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +And I promised my missis to tell her what he is like!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Quietly pecking.</i>] Oh, he’s a fine fellow, no doubt +of that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +We can hear him crowing from our dove-cote. The One he is whose song is +more an ornament to the landscape than the white hamlet to the hill! The +One he is whose cry pierces the blue horizon like a gold-threaded needle +stitching the hill-tops to the sky! The Cock he is! When you would +praise him, call him the Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping up and down in his cage.</i>] Tick-tock!—who sets all hearts +a-beating, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +Our Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Thrusting his head between the bars of his cage.</i>] My, thy, his, her, +our, your, and their Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pigeon</span>.] He will soon be coming in from his usual round in the +fields.</p> + +<p>THE <span class="smcap">Pigeon</span><br> +You have the honour of his acquaintance, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Importantly.</i>] I have known him from a baby. This chick—for to me he +is still a chick!—used to come to me for his bugle lesson.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Ah, indeed? You give lessons in—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Certainly. A bird who can gobble is qualified to teach crowing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Where was he born?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Indicating an old covered basket, badly battered and broken.</i>] In that +old basket.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +And is the hen who brooded him still living?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Again indicating the basket.</i>] She is there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +In that old basket.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>More and more interested.</i>] Of what breed is she?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +She is just a good old-fashioned Gascon hen, born in the neighbourhood +of Pau.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Thrusting out his head.</i>] She is the one Henry the Fourth wished to +see cooking in every Frenchman’s pot!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +How proud she must be of having hatched such a Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Yes, proud with a lowly foster-mother’s pride. Her beloved chick is +coming to his inches, that is all she seems to understand or care about. +And when you tell her this, her clouded reason gives a momentary gleam— +[<i>Calling towards the basket.</i>] Hey, old lady, he is growing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +He is growing!</p> + +<p>[<i>The lid of the basket is suddenly lifted, and a bristling aged hen’s +head appears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Old Hen</span>, <i>gently and feelingly.</i>] Does it make you happy, +mother, to think of him grown to a big fine Cock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Nodding, sententiously.</i>] Happy?—Wednesday’s crops do credit to +Tuesday! [<i>She disappears, the lid drops.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +She opens now and then, like that, and ping! shoots at us some such +pearl of homely lore—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">White Hen</span>.] White Hen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +—not always wholly without point!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Reappearing for an instant.</i>] In the Peacock’s absence, the Turkey +spreads his tail!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Turkey</span> <i>turns quickly around, the lid has already dropped.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">White Hen</span>.] Is it a fact that Chantecler is never hoarse, +never the very least husky?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Keeping on with her pecking.</i>] Perfectly true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>With growing enthusiasm.</i>] Ah, you must be proud Cock who will be +numbered among Illustrious Animals and his name remembered five, ten, +fifteen years!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Very proud. Very proud. [<i>To a</i> <span class="smcap">Chick</span>.] Who are the Illustrious Animals? +Tell them off!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +[<i>Reciting a lesson.</i>] Noah’s Dove—Saint Rocco’s Poodle—The—the Horse +of Cali—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Cali—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +[<i>Trying to remember.</i>] Cali—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +This Cock, now—this Cock of yours—Is it true that his song attunes, +inspires, encourages, makes labour light, and keeps off birds of prey?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Pecking.</i>] Perfectly true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +[<i>Still hunting for his word.</i>] Cali—Cali—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +White Hen, is it true that by his song, defender of the warm and sacred +egg, he has frequently kept the lissome weasel from—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Looking out between the bars.</i>]—messing his shirtfront with omelette?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Perfectly true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +Cali—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Helping him.</i>] Gu?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +Gu—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Is it true—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chick</span><br> +[<i>Jumping for joy at having found.</i>] Gula!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +—true that, as report says, he has a secret for his amazing singing, a +secret whereby his crow becomes the brilliant burst of red which makes +the poppies of the field feel themselves contemptible imitations?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Weary of this questioning.</i>] Perfectly true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +That secret, that great secret, is it known to anyone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +He has not even told his Hen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Correcting him.</i>] His Hens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>Slightly shocked.</i>] Ah, he has more than one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +He crows, remember, you only coo.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Well, then, he has not even told his favourite?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +[<i>Promptly.</i>] No, he has not!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>As promptly.</i>] No, he has not!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +[<i>As promptly.</i>] No, he has not!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Thrusting out his head.</i>] Hush!—An aÎrial drama! The Butterfly, +absorbed in his head of blossom, banquets, all oblivious of—</p> + +<p>[<i>A great green gauze butterfly-net appears above the wall, softly +coming towards the</i> <span class="smcap">Butterfly</span> <i>settled on one of the flowers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +What is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Solemnly.</i>] Fate!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +In a thin disguise of gauze!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Oh, a net—at the end of a cane!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +No harm in the cane—it’s the kid at the other end of the cane! [<i>Half +aloud, watching the</i> <span class="smcap">Butterfly</span>.] You neat little fop, sailing from rose +to rose, to-night you’ll be neat as a pin can make you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Watching the cautious approach of the net beyond the wall.</i>] +Nearer—Nearer—Hush! He’ll catch it!—No he won’t!—Yes, he will!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Suddenly Outside</span><br> +Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p>[<i>At the sound, the</i> <span class="smcap">Butterfly</span> <i>flies off. The</i> <span class="smcap">Net</span> <i>wavers a moment, +with an effect of disappointment, then disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Several Hens</span><br> +What?—Eh?—What was it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Who having hopped up on a wheelbarrow can follow the flight of the</i> +<span class="smcap">Butterfly</span>.] He is off and away, over the meadow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>With ironical emphasis.</i>] It’s Chantecler, practicing knight-errantry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>With emotion.</i>] Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +He is coming!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Hen</span><br> +He is just outside—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pigeon</span>.] Now you will see. He’s a very fine bird indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Thrusting his head between the bars.</i>] Easy as possible to make, a +Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Admiringly.</i>] Admirable amenity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +You take a melon—a fine specimen, I will grant,—for the trunk. For the +legs, two sticks of asparagus,—prize sticks, of course. For the head, a +red pepper,—as handsome as you may find. For the eye, a +currant,—exceptionally clear and light. For the tail, a sheaf of leeks, +with luxuriant blue-green flags. For the ear, a dainty kidney-bean, +—extra, superfine!—And there you have him, there’s your Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>Gently.</i>] One thing you have omitted—His heavenly clarion call!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Indicating</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>who now appears upon the wall.</i>] Yes, but +with the exception of that—slight detail, you must own my portrait is +a likeness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Not at all. Not in the very least. [<i>Contemplating</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>with a +very different eye from the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird’s</span>.] What I see, beneath that +quivering helmet, is Summer’s glorious and favoured knight, who, from a +groaning wain at evening borrowing its golden harvest-robe has arrayed +himself in this, and lifts it from the dust with a gleaming sickle!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>On the wall, in a long guttural sigh.</i>] Coa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +When he makes that noise in his throat, he either is in love, or +preparing some poetic outburst.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Motionless on the wall, with head high.</i>] Blaze forth in +glory!—Dazzle—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +He’s letting off hot air!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Irradiate the world!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +Now he pauses—one claw lifted—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a sort of groan of excessive tenderness.</i>] Coa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +That, if you please, is ecstasy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Thy gold is of all gold alone beneficent! I worship thee!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +[<i>Under breath.</i>] To whom is he talking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Sneering.</i>] To the sun, sonny, the sun!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O thou that driest the tears of the meanest among weeds</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And dost of a dead flower make a living butterfly—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy miracle, wherever almond-trees</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shower down the wind their scented shreds,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dead petals dancing in a living swarm—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I worship thee, O Sun! whose ample light,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blessing every forehead, ripening every fruit,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Entering every flower and every hovel,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pours itself forth and yet is never less,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Still spending and unspent—like mother’s love!</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I sing of thee, and will be thy high priest,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who disdainest not to glass thy shining face</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the humble basin of blue suds,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or see the lightning of thy last farewell</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Reflected in an humble cottage pane!</span><br> +</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Thrusting out his head.</i>] Can’t call it off now, boys, he’s started on +an ode!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Watching</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>as by a series of stately hops he comes down a +pile of hay.</i>] Here he comes, prouder than—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Stopping in front of a small tin cone.</i>] See there! The new-fangled +drinking-trough! [<i>She drinks.</i>] Handy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Prouder than a drum major chanting as he marches: +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“My country, ’tis of thee!”</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Beginning to walk about the yard.</i>] +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou smilest on the—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>Rushing to the</i> <span class="smcap">White Hen</span> <i>who is eating something.</i>] What’s she +eating?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +Corn. Nothing but corn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou smilest on the sunflower craning after thee,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And burnishest my brother of the vane,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And softly sifting through the linden-trees</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Strewest the ground with dappled gold,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So fine there’s no more walking where it lies.</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Through thee the earthen pot is an enamelled urn,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The clout hung out to dry a noble banner,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The hay-rick by thy favour boasts a golden cape,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the rick’s little sister, the thatched hive,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wears, by thy grace, a hood of gold!</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Glory to thee in the vineyards! Glory to thee in the fields!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Glory among the grass and on the roofs,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In eyes of lizards and on wings of swans,—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Artist who making splendid the great things</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Forgets not to make exquisite the small!</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">’Tis thou that, cutting out a silhouette,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To all thou beamest on dost fasten this dark twin,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Doubling the number of delightful shapes,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Appointing to each thing its shadow,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">More charming often than itself.</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I praise thee, Sun! Thou sheddest roses on the air,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Diamonds on the stream, enchantment on the hill;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A poor dull tree thou takest and turnest to green rapture,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O Sun, without whose golden magic—things</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would be no more than what they are!</span><br> +</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeon</span><br> +Bravo! I shall have something to tell my mate. We shall long talk of +this!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Seeing him, with noble courtesy.</i>] Young blue-winged stranger, with +new-fledged bill, thanks! Pray lay my duty at her coral feet!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Pigeon</span> <i>flies off.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Jolly your admirers, it pays!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a cordial voice, to the whole barnyard.</i>] To work now, all of you, +with a will!</p> + +<p>[<i>A </i> <span class="smcap">Fly</span> <i>darts past, buzzing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Busy and resonant Fly, I love thee! Behold her! What is her flight but +the heart-whole gift of herself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Loftily.</i>] Yes.—She has dropped considerably in my esteem, however, +since that matter of the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Of the what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Of the Fly and the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I never thought much of that story. Who knows whether the coach would +have reached the top of the hill without the Fly? Do you believe that +rude shouts “Gee up! Ge’ lang!” were more effective than the hymn to the +Sun buzzed by the little Fly? Do you believe in the virtue of a +blustering oath? Really believe it was the Coachman who made the coach +to go? No, I tell you, no! She did much more than the big whip’s noisy +cracking, did the little Fly, with the music straight from her +buzzing heart!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Yes, but all the same—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning his back on him.</i>] Come, let us make of labour a delight! +Come, all of you!—High time, Ganders my worthies, you escorted your +geese to the pond.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Gander</span><br> +[<i>Lazily.</i>] Is it quite necessary, do you think?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Going briskly towards him, with a look that forbids discussion.</i>] +Quite! And let there be no idle quacking and paltering! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Ganders</span> +<i>go off in haste.</i>] You, Chicken, your task, as you know, is to pick off +slugs, your full number before evening being thirty-two.—You, +Cockerel, go practise your crow. Four hundred times cry +Cock-a-doodle-doo in hearing of the echo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cockerel</span><br> +[<i>Slightly mortified.</i>] The echo—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That is what I was doing to limber up my glottis before I was rid of the +egg-shell sticking to my tail!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Airily.</i>] None of this is particularly interesting!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Everything is interesting! Pray go and sit on the eggs you have been +entrusted with! [<i>To another</i> <span class="smcap">Hen</span>.] You, walk among the roses and +verbenas, and gobble every creature threatening them. Ha, ha! If the +caterpillar thinks we will make him a gift of our flowers he can stroke +his belly—with his back! [<i>To another.</i>] You, hie to the rescue of +cabbages in old neglected corners, where the grasshopper lays siege to +them with his vigorous battering-ram! [<i>To the remaining</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.] +You—[<i>Catching sight of the</i> <span class="smcap">Old Hen</span>, <i>whose shaking, senile head has +lifted the basket-lid.</i>] Ah, there you are, Nursie! Good day! [<i>She +gazes at him admiringly.</i>] Well, have I grown?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +Sooner or later, tadpole becomes toad!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +True! [<i>To the </i><span class="smcap">Hens</span>,<i> resuming his tone of command.</i>] Ladies, stand in +line! Your orders are to peck in the fields. Off at a quick-step, go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Grey Hen</span>.] Are you coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +Not a word! I intend to stay behind, to see the Cuckoo. [<i>She hides +behind the basket.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You, little tufted hen, was it just my fancy that you looked sulky +falling into line?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +[<i>Going up to him.</i>] Cock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +I who am nearest to your heart—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] Hush!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +It annoys me not to be told—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Who has drawn near on the other side.</i>] Cock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Coaxingly.</i>] I who am your favourite—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] Hush!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Caressingly.</i>] I want to know—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +[<i>Who has softly drawn near.</i>] Cock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +Your special and tender regard for me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] Hush!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +Tell me, do—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +—the secret—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +—of your song? [<i>Going still closer to him, in a voice thrilled with +curiosity.</i>] I do believe that you have in your throat a little copper +contrivance—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That’s it, that’s what I have, very carefully concealed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Hen</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Most likely, like great tenors one has heard of, you +gulp raw eggs—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You have guessed!—A second Ugolino!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Hen</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] My idea is that taking snails out of their shells, +you pound them to a paste—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And make them into troches! Exactly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All Three Hens</span><br> +Cock—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Off with you all! Be off! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span> <i>hastily start, he calls them +back.</i>] A word before you go. When your blood-bright combs—now in, now +out of sight, now in again—shall flash among the sage and borage +yonder, like poppies playing at hide-and-seek,—to the real poppies, I +enjoin you, do no injury! Shepherdesses, counting the stitches of their +knitting, trample the grass all unaware that it’s a crime to crush a +flower—even with a woman! But you, my Spouses, show considerate and +touching thought for the flowers whose only offence is growing wild. The +field-carrot has her right to bloom in beauty. Should you spy, as he +strolls across some flowery umbel, a scarlet beetle peppered with black +dots,—the stroller take, but spare his strolling-ground. The flowers of +one same meadow are sisters, as I hold, and should together fall beneath +the scythe!—Now you may go. [<i>They are leaving, he again calls them +back.</i>] And remember, when chickens go to the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +—fields—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—the foremost—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Hens All Together</span><br> +—walks ahead!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You may go! [<i>They are again starting, he peremptorily calls them +back.</i>] A word! [<i>In a stern voice.</i>] Never when crossing the road stop +to peck! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span> <i>bow in obedience.</i>] Now let me see you cross!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Horn</span><br> +[<i>In the distance.</i>] Honk! Honk! Honk!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Rushing in front of the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span> <i>and spreading his wings before them.</i>] +Not yet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Horn</span><br> +[<i>Very near, accompanied by a terrific snorting.</i>] Honk! Honk! Honk!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Barring the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>’ <i>passage, while everything shakes.</i>] Wait!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Horn</span><br> +[<i>Far away.</i>] Honk! Honk! Honk!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Standing aside for them to pass.</i>] You can safely go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>From her hiding-place.</i>] He has not seen me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +You may think this is fun! Now everything we eat will taste of gasoline!</p> + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Third</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>in his cage, the</i> <span class="smcap">Cat</span> <i>still asleep on the +wall, the</i> <span class="smcap">Grey Hen</span> <i>behind the</i> <span class="smcap">Old Hen’s</span> <i>basket.</i></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To himself, after a pause.</i>] No, I will not trust a frivolous soul +with such a weighty secret. Let me try rather to cast off the burden of +it myself—forget and [<i>Shaking his feathers.</i>] just rejoice in being a +rooster! [<i>He struts up and down.</i>] I am beautiful. I am proud. I +walk—then I stand still. I give a skip or two, I tread a measure.—I +shock the cart sometimes by my boldness with the fair, so that it raises +scandalised shafts in horror to the sky!—Hang care!—A barleycorn—Eat +and be merry.—The gear upon my head and under my eye is a far more +gorgeous red, when I puff out my chest and strut, than any robin’s +waistcoat or finch’s tie.—A fine day. All is well. I curvet—I blow my +horn. Conscious of having done my duty, I may quite properly assume the +swagger of a musketeer, and the calm commanding bearing of a cardinal. +I can—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>Loud and gruff.</i>] Beware, Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What silly beast is bidding me beware?</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fourth</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same, Patou</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Barking inside his kennel.</i>] <span class="smcap">I! I! I</span>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Retreating.</i>] Is it you, Patou, good shaggy head starting out of the +dark, with straws caught among your eyelashes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Which do not prevent my seeing what is plain as that hen-house rrrroof!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Cross?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Grrrrrrr—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +When he rolls his r’s like that he is very cross indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +It’s my devotion to you, Cock, makes me roll my r’s. Guardian of the +house, the orchard and the fields, more than all else I am bound to +protect your song. And I growl at the dangers I suspect lurking. Such is +my humour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Your humour? Your dogma, suspicion is! Call it your <i>dog</i>ma!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +You can stoop to a pun? From bad to worse! I m enough of a psychologist +to feel the evil spreading, and I ve the scent of a rat-terrier.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But you are no rat-terrier!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Shaking his head.</i>] Chantecler, how do we know?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Considering him.</i>] Your appearance is in fact peculiar What actually +is your breed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I am a horrible mixture, issue of every passer-by! I can feel barking +within me the voice of every blood. Retriever, mastiff, pointer, poodle, +hound—my soul is a whole pack, sitting in circle, musing. Cock, I am +all dogs, I have been every dog!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Then what a sum of goodness must be stored in you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Brother, we are framed to understand each other. You sing to the sun and +scratch up the earth. I when I wish to do myself a good and a +pleasure—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You lie on the earth and sleep in the sun!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>With a pleased yap.</i>] Aye!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +We have ever had in common our love for those two things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I am so fond of the sun that I howl at the moon. And so fond of the +earth that I dig great holes and shove my nose in it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I know! The gardener’s wife has her opinion of those holes.—But what +are the dangers you discern? All lies quiet beneath the quiet sky. +Nothing appears to be threatening my humble sunlit dominions.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Lifting the basket-lid with her head.</i>] The egg looks like marble +until it gets smashed! [<i>The lid drops.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] What dangers, friend?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +There are two. First, in yonder cage—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +That satirical whistling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Pernicious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +In what way?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +In every way!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Ironical.</i>] Bad as all that, is it? [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock’s</span> <i>squall is heard +in the distance: “Ee—yong!”</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +And then that cry, the Peacock’s!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>, <i>further off: “Ee—yong!”</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +More out of tune all by itself than a whole village singing society!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Come, what have they done to you, that whistler and that posturer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Grumbling.</i>] They have done to me—that I know not what they may do to +you! They have done to me—that among us simple, kindly folk they have +introduced new fashions, the Blackbird of being funny, the Peacock of +putting on airs! Fashions which the latter in his grotesque bad taste +picked up parading on the marble terraces of the vulgar rich, and the +former—Heaven knows where! along with his cynicism and his slang. Now +the one, travelling salesman of blighting corrosive laughter, and the +other, brainless ambassador of Fashion, their mission to kill among us +love and labour, the first by persiflage, the second by display,—they +have brought to us, even here in our peaceful sunny corner, the two +pests, the saddest in the world, the jest which insists on being funny +at any cost, and the cry which insists on being the latest scream! [<i>The +</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>is heard tentatively whistling, “How sweet to fare +afield”.</i>] You, Cock, who had the sense to prefer the grain of true +wheat to the pearl, how can you allow yourself to be taken in by that +villainous Blackbird! A bird who practises a tune!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Indulgently.</i>] Come, he whistles his tune like many another!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Unwillingly agreeing, in a drawling growl.</i>] Ye-e-es, but he never +whistles it to the end!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Watching the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>hopping about.</i>] A light-hearted fellow!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Ye-e-es, but he lies heavy on our hearts. A bird who +takes his exercise indoors!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You must own he is intelligent!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>In a longer, more hesitant growl.</i>] Ye-e-e-es! But not so very! For +his eye never brightens with wonder and admiration. He preserves before +the flower—of whose stalk he sees more than of its chalice—the glance +which deflowers, the tone which depreciates!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Taste, my dear fellow, he unmistakably has!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Ye-e-e-es! But not much taste! To wear black is too easy a way of having +taste! One should have the courage of colours on his wing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You will admit at least that he has an original fancy. No denying that +he is amusing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Ye-e-es—No! Why is it amusing to adopt a few stock phrases and make +them do service at every turn? Why amusing to miscall, exaggerate, and +vulgarise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +His mind has a diverting, unexpected turn—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Ready but cheap! I cannot think it particularly brilliant to remark, +with a knowing wink, at sight of an innocent cow at pasture, “The simple +cow knows her way to the hay!” Nor do I regard it as evidence of notable +mental gifts to answer the greeting of the inoffensive duck, “The quack +shoots off his mouth!” No, the extravagances of that Blackbird, who +makes me bristle, no more constitute wit than his slang achieves style!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +He is not altogether to blame. He wears the modern garb. See him there +in correct evening dress. He looks, in his neat black coat—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span> +Like a beastly little undertaker who, after burying Faith, hops with +relief and glee!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +There, there! You make him blacker than he is!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I do believe a blackbird is just a misfit crow!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +His diminutive size, however—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Vigorously shaking his ears.</i>] Oh, be not deceived by his size! Evil +makes his models first on a tiny scale. The soul of a cutlass dwells in +the pocket-knife; blackbird and crow are of the selfsame crape, and the +striped wasp is a tiger in miniature!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Amused at</i> <span class="smcap">Patou’s</span> <i>violence.</i>] The blackbird in short is wicked, +stupid, ugly—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +The chief thing about the Blackbird is—that you can’t tell what he is! +Is there thought in that head? feeling in that breast? Hear him! +“Tew-tew-tew-tew tew—”</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But what harm does he do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +He tew-tew-tews! And nothing is so mortal to thought and sentiment as +that same derisive tew-tewing, disingenuous and non-committal! Day by +day, and that is why I roll my rs, I must witness this debasing of +language and ideals. It’s enough to produce rabies!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Come, Patou!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +In their objectionable jargon, they have the ha-ha on all of us! I am no +fastidious King Charles, but I dislike, I tell you, being referred to as +His Whiskers!—Oh, to be gone, escape, follow the heels of some poor +shepherd without a crust in his wallet, but at least, at evening +drinking from the glassy pond, to have—oh, better than all +marrow-bones!—the fresh illusion of lapping up the stars!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Surprised at</i> <span class="smcap">Patou’s</span> <i>having lowered his voice to utter the last +words.</i>] Why do you drop your voice?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +You see?—If we speak of stars nowadays we must do it in a whisper! [<i>He +lays his head on his paws in deep dejection.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Comforting him.</i>] Be not downcast!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Lifting his head again.</i>] No, it is too silly and too weak! I ll shout +it if I please! [<i>He howls with the whole power of his lungs.</i>] +Stars!—[<i>Then in a tone of relief.</i>] There, I feel better!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chickens</span><br> +[<i>Passing at the back, mocking.</i>] Stars!—Ho! Stars for ours! Stars! +[<i>They go off, fooling and giggling.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Hear them! Our pullets will be whistling soon like blackbirds!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Proudly strutting up and down.</i>] What care <span class="smcap">I? I</span>sing, and have on my +side the Hens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Trust not to the hearts of Hens—or of crowds. You are too willing to +take the price of your singing in lip-service.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But love—love is glory awarded in kisses!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Ah! I too, was young once, I had my wilding devil’s beauty,—an +inflammatory eye, an inflammable heart. Well, I was deceived. For a +handsomer dog?—No, they deceived me for a miserable cur!—[<i>Roaring in +sudden wrath.</i>] For whom?—For whom, do you suppose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Retreating.</i>] You alarm me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +For a low-down dachshund who trod on his own ears!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Who has overheard</i> <span class="smcap">Patou’s</span> <i>last words, sticking his head between the +bars of his cage.</i>] Still harping on the dachshund, is he? What’s the +odds, old chappie? You were the goat!—How does being the goat matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +But you up there, scoffing at everything, who are you, may one ask?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +I m the pet of the poultry yard!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Bad luck is what you’ll bring them!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +A prophecy-sharp?—Say, wisteria, we are twisted up with laughter! [<i>He +comes out of his cage and hops to the ground.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>As he approaches</i>] Grrrrrrr—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Hush! He’s a friend!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +A false one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Fine things we learn when the talk is of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Her head protruding from the basket.</i>] Strike rotten wood, and see the +wood-lice scatter! [<i>The basket-lid drops.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] He laughs at you behind your back!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] Ha, retriever, you retrieve?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +When you pour forth your heart in your ardent cry, giving it over and +over, he calls it the same old saw that your jag-toothed red crest +stands for!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +So that’s what you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Affecting simplicity.</i>] You surely don’t mind? How can it affect you? +And a joke about you is always so sure of success!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Point-blank, do you admire or despise the Cock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +I make fun of him in spots, but admire him in lump!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +You always peck two kinds of seed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +My cage has two seed-cups, you see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I am single-minded and downright!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +You—are an old poodle of the year 48! I am an up-to-date bird!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Gruffly.</i>] Out of my way! lest I give your black coat red tails! +[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>nimbly gets out of the way,</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span> <i>goes into his +kennel grumbling.</i>] I ll show him some up-to-date jaws!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Be quiet! It’s his way. The truth is that if once he stood in the +presence of beauty, this very Blackbird would applaud!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Not with both wings! What can you expect of a bird who, with woodbine +and juniper full in sight, prefers to go inside and peck at a +musty biscuit?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +He never seems to suspect that the poacher is a blackguardly sort of +brute!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +What I know is that the underbrush is all a delicate golden gloom—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Yes, but leaden shot can cleave your delicate gold. The quail is such a +canny bird, that he lies low lest he make his last appearance on toast. +And so, in lack of quail—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Does the great stag delight any the less in his green forest for turning +over among the grass at evening some bit of a rusty cartridge?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +No, old chap—but the stag, you see, is just another kind of a hat-rack!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Oh, but freedom, freedom, with violets looking on! Love!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Antediluvian pastimes! not nearly such good fun as my nice new wooden +trapeze. Oh, my cage, let us sign a joyful three-six-nine years’ lease! +I live like a Duke, I have filtered drinking-water—[<i>At</i> <span class="smcap">Patou’s</span> +<i>significant start and growl, he springs aside, finishing.</i>] You can +sling mud upon me, I have a porcelain bath!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Slightly out of patience.</i>] Why not make a practice of talking simply +and to the point?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I like to make you sit up, and watch you blinking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Grrrrr—in the plain interest of public decency, I say it behooves us—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Don’t say behooves, say it’s up to you, old chap!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What’s all this juggling with words?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The thing, Chantecler, quite the thing! I knew a city sparrow once, and +it’s the way they talk in fashionable circles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I was well acquainted with a little red-breast, who lived beneath a city +poet’s eaves; he did not talk like you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I belong to my time. Every chap that’s a bit of a swell nowadays must be +a bit of a tough. It’s smart, you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I froth at the mouth! Smart,—there’s the Peacock’s password!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Oh, the Peacock, by the way, what is he doing these days?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Ogling with his tail-feathers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Baneful his example has been to many an humble heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What signs do you see of his influence?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +A thousand nothings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Appearing.</i>] Bubbles floating down the stream tell of laundresses up +stream! [<i>The lid drops.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am sure I have not seen the smallest bubble from which—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Indicating a</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-pig</span>, <i>who is passing.</i>] See there, that +Guinea-pig—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Considering him.</i>] What about him? He is just a yellow Guinea-pig!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Guinea-pig</span><br> +[<i>Snippily correcting.</i>] Khaki, if you please!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] Kha—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +A bubble!—And yonder waddling duck—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking at him.</i>] He is going to take his bath—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Duck</span><br> +[<i>Drily.</i>] My tub!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +His—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +A bubble!</p> + +<p>[<i>A long grating noise is heard within the house Crrrrrrr, then.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Clock</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Leaving her hiding-place and running towards the cat-hole.</i>] His +voice!—Now through the kitty’s little door I finally shall see him! +[<i>She thrusts her head into the hole. The</i> <span class="smcap">Cuckoo’s</span> <i>call is not +repeated.</i>] Oh, deary, deary me! I am too late! [<i>Calling.</i>] +Bis! Encore!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning around at the noise.</i>] Eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Desperately, with her head in the cat-hole.</i>] He has stopped!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +It was the half-hour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Close behind the</i> <span class="smcap">Grey Hen</span>, <i>abruptly.</i>] How does it happen, my love, +that we are not in the fields?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Turning, scared.</i>] Goodness gracious!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What are we doing, my love, in the cat-hole?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Upset.</i>] I was just taking a peep—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +To see whom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>More and more upset.</i>] Oh—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Dramatically.</i>] Who is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +Oh—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Confess!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>In the voice of a woman caught in guilt.</i>] The Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Amazed.</i>] You love him?—But wherefore?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +[<i>Drops her eyes, then with emotion.</i>] He is Swiss!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +A bubble!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +He is a thinker. He takes his airing—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +She loves a clock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +—always takes his airing at the same hour, like Kant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Like what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span><br> +Like Kant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Did one ever—! Out of my sight!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Trot, Kant you?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">The Grey Hen</span> <i>hurries off.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Here’s a pretty—Wherever did she learn that Kant—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +At the Guinea-hen’s.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That foolish old party of the crazy cries and the white-plastered beak?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +She has taken a day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A day off, do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +No, a day at home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A day at—Where does she receive?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +In a corner of the kitchen-garden.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Under the auspices of that strawman with the unsavoury old top-hat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The scarecrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Yes, his being there makes the affair select.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bewildered.</i>] How is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Don’t you see? He scares off all the puny fowl—. Poor relations are not +wanted at a function.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +So the Guinea-hen has a day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Phlegmatically.</i>] A bubble!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A balloon!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Imitating the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>.] Mondays, my dear—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And what do they do at that feather-brain’s parties?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Cluck and cackle. The Turkey-cock airs his social gifts, the Chick gets +into society.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Imitating the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>.] From five to six—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Evening?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +No, morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +You see, she must take advantage of the time when the garden is +deserted, and yet have it a five-o’clock tea. So she chose the hour when +the old gardener is at his early potations.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What nonsense!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Quite so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +You needn’t talk. You go to her teas.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +He goes—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Yes, I am one of their ornaments.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +And I am not so sure but that some day—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What are you mumbling to your brass-studded collar?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +—some Hen may get you too to go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +You!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Me?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Led by the end of your beak.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In high wrath.</i>] Me?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +For when a new Hen heaves in sight, you can’t help yourself, you +know—you lose your balance-wheel—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +You slowly circumambulate the fair one—[<i>He imitates the</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span> <i>walking +around a</i> <span class="smcap">Hen</span>.] “Yes, it’s me.—Here I am!” And you say, “Coa—”</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I never knew a more idiotic bird!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Continuing to mimic him.</i>] You let your wing hang, sentimentally—your +foot performs a sort of stately jig—[<i>A shot is heard.</i>] Ha! I don’t +like that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Starts up quivering, and scents the air.</i>] Poaching Julius is at his +tricks again!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Dog, it seems to stimulate you agreeably!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>With ears up-pricked and shining eyes.</i>] Yes! [<i>Suddenly, as if +controlling himself, passionately.</i>] No—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +What affects you so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Oh, horrible, horrible! A poor little partridge perhaps—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Is that streaming eye, my friend, a result of age or rheumatism?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Neither! But I have within me several dogs, and there is conflict amidst +me. My hunter’s nostril twitches at a shot, but, directly, my +house-dog’s memory raises before me a bleeding wing, the glazing eye of +a doe, the pathos of a rabbit’s dying look—and I feel the heart of a +Saint Bernard waking in my breast! [<i>Another shot.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Again?</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fifth</span></h3> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">The Same, a Golden Pheasant</span>, <i>later</i> <span class="smcap">Briffaut</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A Golden Pheasant</span><br> +[<i>Flying suddenly over the wall, and dropping in the yard, mad with +fright.</i>] Hide me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Heavens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +A golden pheasant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Golden Pheasant</span><br> +Is this great Chantecler?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +All over the shop, we’re famous!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Golden Pheasant</span><br> +[<i>Running hither and thither.</i>] Save me, if you are he!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am!—Rely on me!</p> + +<p>[<i>Another shot.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Golden Pheasant</span><br> +[<i>Jumping and casting himself on</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] Merciful powers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But what a nervous bird it is—a golden pheasant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Golden Pheasant</span><br> +I have no breath left! I ran too hard!-[<i>Faints.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Puff!—Out goes his light!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Upholding the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant</span> <i>with one wing.</i>] How beautiful he is, with +drooping neck and softly ruffled throat-feathers! [<i>He runs to the +drinking-trough.</i>] Water!—One almost hesitates to dim such beauty with +a wetting—[<i>He splashes him vigorously with his other wing.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Golden Pheasant</span><br> +[<i>Coming to.</i>] I am pursued! Oh, hide me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +“And the villain still—” Here’s melodrama!</p> + +<p>[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant</span>.] How the dickens did he manage to miss you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant</span><br> +Surprise!—The huntsman was looking for a little grey lark. Seeing me +rise, he cried, “Thunder!” He saw but a flash of gold, and I a flash of +fire.—But the dog is chasing me, a horrible dog—[<i>Seeing</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span> <i>he +quickly adds.</i>] I am speaking of a hunting-dog! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] +Hide me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The trouble is he is so conspicuous. That increases our dilemma. Where +can he lie concealed?—Gentle sir, my lord, most noble stranger, where +might we hope to hide the rainbow, supposing it in danger?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +There by the bench with the beehives stands my green cottage, very much +at your service.—Go in, I pray! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Golden Pheasant</span> <i>goes in, but +his long tail projects.</i>] There is too much of this golden vanity!—The +tip is still in sight.—I shall have to sit on it.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Briffaut</span> <i>appears above the wall. Long hanging ears and quivering +chops.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Briffaut</span>, <i>affecting unconcern.</i>] Good afternoon!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +[<i>Snuffing.</i>] Humph, what a good smell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Pointing to his bowl.</i>] My poor dinner! Soup with seasonable +vegetables.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +[<i>Hurriedly.</i>] Have you seen a pheasant-hen go by?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>In astonishment, reflecting.</i>] A pheasant-hen,—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Walking about, with an assumption of gaiety.</i>] Impressive, isn’t he, +Briffaut there? with his look of a thoroughbred old Englishman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +No, but I saw a pheasant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +That was she!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +A pheasant-hen wears dun. This was a golden pheasant He went off towards +the meadow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +It is she!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Going towards him, incredulous.</i>] A pheasant-hen with golden plumage?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +Ah, you do not know what sometimes happens?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +We are in for a hunting yarn!—Give me chloroform!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +It sometimes happens—the thing is exceptional, of course—My master +knows because he has read about it.—It sometimes happens—An +extraordinary phenomenon to be sure! which is likewise observed among +moor-fowl.—It happens—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +What happens?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +That the pheasant-hen—Ah, my dear fellows—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Stamping with impatience.</i>] The pheasant-hen what?—what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +Makes up her mind one day that the cock-pheasant goes altogether too +fine. When the male in springtime puts on his holiday feathers, she sees +that he is handsomer than she—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +And it makes her sore!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +She leaves off laying and hatching eggs. Nature then gives her back her +purple and her gold, and the pheasant-hen proud and magnificent Amazon, +preferring to put on her back blue, green, yellow, all the colours of +the prism, rather than under a sober grey wing to shelter a brood of +young pheasants, flies freely forth—Light-mindedly she sheds the +virtues of her sex, and having done it—sees life! [<i>He sketches with +his paw a slightly disrespectful gesture.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Dryly.</i>] Pray, what do you know about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +[<i>Astonished.</i>] Is he annoyed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Aside.</i>] Already!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +In short, the pheasant your master missed—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +Was a she!—[<i>He stops and scents the air.</i>] Oh but!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Quickly, showing his dish.</i>] You know, it’s my dinner you smell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +It smells very unusually good.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Aside.</i>] I don’t like that way his nose has of twitching.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +[<i>Starting upon another story.</i>] Fancy such an instance as the +following—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Holy Smoke! Here comes another!—Oh, I say, hire a hall!</p> + +<p>[<i>A distant whistle is heard.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] You are whistled for!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +The deuce! Good evening! [<i>Disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Good evening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Gone, at last!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Calling.</i>] Briffaut!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Great Glory, what are you doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Calling.</i>] I have something to tell you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +[<i>His head reappears above the wall.</i>] Well—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Look out, Briffaut!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Low to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Do you make sport of our fears?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +You are losing something!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Time!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Briffaut</span><br> +[<i>Disappearing with a snort of fury.</i>] Wow!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Sixth</span></h3> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler, the Blackbird, Patou, the Pheasant-hen</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>After a moment, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>who from his cage, which he has +returned, can see off over the wall.</i>] Is he gone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +He is nearly out of sight!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Going toward</i> <span class="smcap">Patou’s</span> <i>kennel.</i>] Madam, come forth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Appearing at the threshold of the kennel.</i>] Well?—A rebellious, +self-freed slave I am—even as that dog was saying! But of great +lineage, and proud as I am free—A pheasant of the woods!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Whew! We hate ourself, don’t we!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +In the forest where I live there comes a-poaching—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That madman who would have given to vile lead a jewel for setting!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Beneath foliage—not so thick but a sunbeam may glide in!—I make my +home. I am descended, however, from elsewhere. From whence? From Persia? +China? None can tell! But of one thing we may be certain: that I was +meant to shimmer in the blue among the fragrant gum-trees of the East, +and not to be chased through brambles by a hound!—Am I the ancient +Phoenix? or the sacred Chinese hen? Whence was I brought to this land? +And how brought? And by whom? History is not explicit on the point, and +leaves us a splendid choice. Wherefore I choose to have been born in +Colchis, from whence I came on Jason’s fist. I am all gold. Perhaps I +was the Fleece!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +You?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The Pheasant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Politely correcting her.</i>] Pheasant-hen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I refer to my race, for which I stand, by token of my crimson shield. +Yes, my ancient fate of being a dead leaf beside a ruby, having appeared +to me one day too distinctly dull a lot, I stole his dazzling plumage +from the male. A good thing, too, for it becomes me so much better! The +golden tippet, as I wear it, curves and shimmers. The emerald epaulette +acquires a dainty grace. I have made of a mere uniform a miracle +of style!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +She is distractingly lovely, so much is certain!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +He is never going to fall in love with a woman dressed as a man!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Who has again hopped down from his cage.</i>] I must go and tell the +Guinea-hen that a golden bird has blown into town. She’ll have a fit! +She will invite her! [<i>Off.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +So you come to us from the East, like the Dawn?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +My life has the picturesque disorder of a poem. If I came from the East, +it was by way of Egypt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Aside, heart-broken.</i>] A gypsy, on top of the rest!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>tossing and twisting her head so that the colours +ripple at her throat.</i>] Have you noticed these two shades? They are our +own especial colours—the Dawn’s and mine! Princess of the underbrush, +queen of the glade, I am pleased to wear the yellow locks of an +adventuress. Dreamy and homesick for my unknown home, I choose my +palaces among the rustling flags and withered irises that fringe the +pool. I dote upon the forest, and when it smells in autumn of dead +leaves and decaying wood—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>In consternation.</i>] She is mad!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Wild as a tree-bough in a southerly gale, I tremble, flutter, spend +myself in motion, till a vast languor overtakes me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Who for a minute or so has been letting his wing hang, now begins +slowly circling about the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>in the manner of the</i> +<span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>aping him, with a very gentle, throaty.</i>] Coa—[<i>The</i> +<span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>looks at him. Believing himself encouraged, he takes up +again louder, while circling about her.</i>] Coa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +My dear sir, I prefer to tell you at once that if it is for my benefit +you are doing that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Stopping short.</i>] What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The eye—the peculiar gait—the drooping wing—the “Coa—”</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You do it all very nicely, I admit; only, it has not the very slightest +effect upon me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Slightly abashed.</i>] Madam—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh, I understand, of course. We are the illustrious Cock! Not a Hen in +the world but preens her feathers in the hope—the very touching hope, +certainly—of offering us a moment’s distraction, some day, between two +songs. We are so sure of ourself that we never hesitate, not even when +the lady is a visitor, and not quite the ordinary short-kirtled Hen whom +one can engage without further ceremony by such advances—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I do not bestow my affections quite so lightly. For my taste, anyhow, +you are altogether too frankly Cock of the Walk!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Too—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Spoiled! The only Cock to my fancy would be a plain inglorious Cock to +whom I should be all in all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Love a celebrated Cock? I am not such a very woman!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—well—still—We might, however, Madam, take a little stroll +together!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Yes, like two friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Two friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Two chickens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Very old!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] No, no—not old! Very ugly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Quicker still.</i>] Oh, no, not ugly! [<i>Coming nearer to her.</i>] Will you +take a turn in the yard?—Accept my wing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You shall show me the sights.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Stopping before the</i> <span class="smcap">Chickens</span>’ <i>drinking-trough.</i>]This, of course, is +hideous. It is a model drinking-trough on the siphon principle, made of +galvanised iron. But everything excepting that is charming, noble, time +and weather worn, from the hen-house roof to the stable door—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Returning.</i>] The Guinea-hen is having a fit!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>looking about her.</i>] And so you live here untroubled, +and have nothing to fear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Nothing whatever. Because the owner is a vegetarian An amazing man, a +lover of animals. He calls them by names borrowed from the poets. The +donkey there is Midas; the heifer, Io.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The showman’s on the job!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Indicating the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] And that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Our humorist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What does he do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Oh, he keeps busy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Doing what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Trying never to appear a fool, and that’s hard work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Possibly—but most unattractive! [<i>They move towards the back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>With a glance at the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen’s</span> <i>scarlet breast.</i>] Size up the +highfalutin’ dame!—Get on to the waistcoat will you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Continuing the round.</i>] The hay-cock. The old wall. The wall, when I +sing, is alive with lizards, the hay-cock bends to listen. I sing on the +spot where you see the earth scratched up, and when I have sung, I drink +in the bowl over there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Your song then is a matter of importance?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Seriously.</i>] The greatest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That is my secret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +If I should ask you to tell me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning the conversation, and showing a pile of brushwood tied in +bundles.</i>] My friends, the fagots.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Stolen from my forest!—So what they say is true?—you have a secret?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Dryly.</i>] Yes, Madam.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I suppose it would be useless to insist—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Climbing on the wall at the back.</i>] And from here you can see the +remainder of the estate, to the edge of the kitchen-garden, where they +ply at evening a serpent ending like a sprinkling can.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What?—This is all?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +This is all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And do you imagine the world ends at your vegetable-patch?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Do you never, as you watch, far overhead, the wedge of the south-flying +birds, dream of vaster horizons?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But all these things about you are dreary and poor and flat!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And I can never become used to the richness and wonder of these things!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +It is always the same, you must agree!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Nothing is ever the same,—nothing,—ever,—under the sun! And that +because of the sun!—For <i>She</i> changes everything!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +She—Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Light, the universal goddess! That geranium planted by the farmer’s wife +is never twice the same red! And that old wooden shoe, spurting straw, +what a sight, what a beautiful sight! And the wooden comb hanging among +the farmer’s smocks, with the green hair of the sward caught in its +teeth! The pitchfork, stood in the corner, like a misbehaving child, +dozing as he stands and dreaming of the hay-fields! And the bowl and +skittles there,—the trim-waisted skittles, shapely maids, whose orderly +quadrilles Patou in his gambols clumsily upsets! The great worm-eaten +bowl whose curved expanse some ant is always crossing, travelling with +no less pride than famed explorers,—around her ball in 80 +seconds!—Nothing, I tell you, is two instants quite the same!—And I , +sweet lady, have been so susceptible ever, that a garden-rake in a +corner, a flower in a pot, cast me long since into a helpless ecstasy, +and that from gazing at a morning-glory I fell into the startled +admiration which has made my eye so round!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Thoughtfully.</i>] One feels that you have a soul.—A soul then may find +wherewithal to grow, so far from life and its drama, shut in by a +farmyard wall with a cat asleep on it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +With power to see, capacity to suffer, one may come to understand all +things. In an insect’s death are hinted all disasters. Through a +knot-hole can be seen the sky and marching stars!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Appearing.</i>] None knows the heavens like the water in the well!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Presenting her to the </i><span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span><i> before the basket-lid drops.</i>] My +foster-mother!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Politely approaching.</i>] Delighted!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Slyly winking at her.</i>] He’s a fine Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +He is a Cock, moreover, for whom that fact is not the only thing in the +world!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Who has gone toward</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] There, my dear boy, is a Hen with whom +one can have a bit of solid conversation.</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Seventh</span></h3> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">The Same</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>, <i>and the whole</i> <span class="smcap">Poultry-yard</span></p> + +<p><i>Cries outside, nearer and nearer,</i> “Ah!—” <i>Enter all the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span> <i>in +tumult, preceded by the agitated</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>In his cage.</i>] The next course will be Guinea-hen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Ah, my dear, my dear, my dear!—A +beauty, a very beauty!—We have come to make your acquaintance, my dear!</p> + +<p>[<i>General admiration,</i> “Ah!—” <i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>is surrounded. +Conversation, cries, clucking.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Watching the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>aside.</i>] How well she walks, with free +and graceful gait!—[<i>He looks at the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.] So differently from my +Hens! [<i>Irritably, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.] Ladies, you walk as if you had +blisters! You walk as if you trod on your own eggs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +No mistaking the symptoms! He is very much in love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Presenting her son to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] The Guinea-cock, my son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +[<i>Looking admiringly at the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] What a jolly shade of blond!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Disparagingly.</i>] Like butter!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning, dryly to the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.] It is time you went indoors.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Amiably.</i>] So soon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +They retire early.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>A little mortified.</i>] Yes, we must turn in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +They go in by a ladder!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Let us be great friends, my dear, shall we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking at the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>aside.</i>] Her sumptuous court-dress sets +her apart from the rest, and removes her far above.—My Hens +are dowdies!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>, <i>excusing herself.</i>] I return to my forest home +to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>In excessive grief.</i>] So soon—? [<i>A shot in the distance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +They are still after game.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +You must stay.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Eagerly.</i>] That’s it! Let us keep her a prisoner among us till +to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But where can I spend the night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Indicating his kennel.</i>] There, in my bachelor’s quarters.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I ?—Sleep beneath a roof?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Insisting.</i>] Go in, I pray.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But you? What shall you do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I shall do very well!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Resigning herself.</i>] I will stay then until to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>With piercing cries.</i>] Ah! Ah! But to-morrow, my dear! to-morrow—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>In alarm.</i>] What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +To-morrow is my mother’s day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Impetuously.</i>] My dear, would you care to come to-morrow quite +informally, and take a simple snail with us? The Peacock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Mounting the ladder, from whence he can inspect the scene.</i>] Quiet, if +you please! Evening has blown its smoke across the sky—[<i>In a tone of +command.</i>] Is every one in his accustomed place?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Lower, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] The Peacock is coming. We shall hold our +little gathering among the currant-bushes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Are the turkeys on their roost?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] From five to six.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Are the ducks in their pointed house?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] The Tortoise has kindly said we may expect her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Indeed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>On the last rung of the ladder.</i>] Is every one under cover?—Every +chick under a wing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Still insisting with the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>that she come on the morrow.</i>] +The Tufted Hen has promised to bring the Cock.—[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] +Charmed, I am sure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking out of the hen-house.</i>] You will come, won’t you, dear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>At the foot of the ladder, looking up at him.</i>] Oh, but you will?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Because you said “No!” to the other!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Wavering.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Humph! I beseech you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Still wavering.</i>] I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Humph! He is weakening.—They will make him pay dear if he yields!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Hen</span><br> +[<i>Appearing.</i>] Make a reed into a pipe and play a tune upon it! [<i>The +basket-lid drops.</i>]</p> + +<p>[<i>Night is thickening.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Still hesitating.</i>] I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +Let us go to sleep—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>On his roost, solemnly.</i>] <i>Quandoque dormitat</i>—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>In his cage.</i>] Dormittimus!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Very firmly to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] I will not go. Good night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Slightly offended.</i>] Good night! [<i>With a curt hop she enters the +dog-kennel.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Falling asleep, stretched in front of his kennel.</i>] Let us sleep until +the sky grows pink—pink as—as—a puppy’s tummy—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Dropping off.</i>] From five to six—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Likewise dropping off.</i>] Tew—tew—[<i>He nods.</i>] tew—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Still at the top of the ladder.</i>] All sleeps.—[<i>He spies a</i> <span class="smcap">Chick</span> +<i>stealing out.</i>] Is that a chick I see?—[<i>Springing after him and +driving him in.</i>] Let me catch you!—[<i>In driving back the</i> <span class="smcap">Chick</span>, <i>he +finds himself near the kennel. He calls very softly.</i>] Pheasant-hen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Lost among the straw, sleepily.</i>] What do you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>After a moment’s hesitation.</i>] Nothing.—Nothing! [<i>He goes back to +the top of his ladder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Shall I be able to sleep, I wonder—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Falling sound asleep.</i>] A puppy’s tum—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Indistinctly, overcome by slumber.</i>] To sleep under a roof?—I with +my gypsy tastes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am going in. [<i>He disappears in the hen-house. He is heard saying in a +dreamy voice.</i>] It is time to shut my—my—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a last effort.</i>]—gyp—sy—tastes.—[<i>Her head nods and disappears +among the straw.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>His voice, sleepier and fainter.</i>]—to shut my eyes—[<i>Silence. He +sleeps. Two green eyes are seen suddenly kindling at the top of +the wall.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +And to open mine! [<i>Immediately two more yellow eyes shine forth from +the darkness above the hay-cock.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +And mine! [<i>Two more yellow eyes on the wall.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice</span><br> +And mine! [<i>Two more yellow eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice</span><br> +And mine!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Eighth</span></h3> + +<p><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Poultry-yard</span> <i>asleep. The</i> <span class="smcap">Cat</span> <i>awake. Three</i> <span class="smcap">Screech-owls</span>, +<i>later the</i> <span class="smcap">Mole</span> <i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Voice</span> <i>of the</i> <span class="smcap">Cuckoo</span>.</p> + +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">First Voice</span><br> +Two green eyes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +[<i>Sitting up on the wall, and looking at the other phosphorescent +eyes.</i>] Six golden eyes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Voice</span><br> +On the wall?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +On the rick?—[<i>He calls.</i>] Owls!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +Cat!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Waking up.</i>] What’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Cat</span>.] Great plot against him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +To-night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three Owls</span><br> +To-night, too-whit!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +Pfitt!—Where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +The hollies, too-whoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +What o’clock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +Eight, too-whit! too-whoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +Bats weaving soft black snares of flight—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +Are they with us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three Owls</span><br> +They are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +Mole, burrowing from nether to upper night—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +Is she with us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Three Owls</span><br> +She is!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +[<i>Talking toward the house-door.</i>] You, strike your eight strokes +bravely, Cuckoo of the little clock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Is he with us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +He is!—And I am pleased to tell you, silent night-watchers that some of +the day-birds are likewise with us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>Coming forward surrounded by a number of the barnyard constituents, +obsequiously.</i>] So it is settled for this evening, dear Round Eyes? You +will be there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +We will be there! All the Round Eyes of the neighbourhood will be there!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +That’s a show I d like to see!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>In his sleep.</i>] Grrrrrrr—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +[<i>To the startled</i> <span class="smcap">Night-birds</span>.] The dog is dreaming.—He growls in his +sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Inside the hen-house.</i>] Coa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +[<i>Frightened.</i>] Himself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Fly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +No need. The night is dark. We can vanish by merely closing our eyes. +[<i>They shut their luminous eyes. Darkness.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>appears at the +top of the ladder.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Did you hear anything, Blackbird?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I did, indeed, old chap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +[<i>Frightened.</i>] What’s this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +A black conspiracy—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>With melodramatic emphasis.</i>] Against you!—Tremble!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Going in again, unalarmed.</i>] Joker!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +He has gone in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I have betrayed no one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +The Blackbird then is with us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +No—but may I come and look on?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +A Night-bird never eats a black bird. You can come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The password?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owl</span><br> +Terror and Talons!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Putting her head out of the dog-kennel.</i>] I can’t breathe in that +stifling, low-roofed little house, and—[<i>Catching sight of the</i> +<span class="smcap">Night-birds</span>.] Oh!—[<i>She darts aside, behind the kennel, and watches.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +Hush! [<i>They close their eyes.</i> <span class="smcap">The Cat</span> <i>does the same. After a time, +hearing no further sound, they open them again.</i>] It was nothing. Let +us be off.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Group of the Disaffected</span><br> +[<i>With fawning obsequiousness to the</i> <span class="smcap">Night-birds</span>.] Success to you, +Owls,—success!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owl</span><br> +Thanks! But how is it that you are with us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +Ah, night brings out what daylight will not own to! I do not like the +Cock because the Dog does.—There you have it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +I do not like him, for the reason that having known him as a Chick I +cannot admit him as a Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Duck</span><br> +I do not like the Cock because, not being web-footed, he marks his +passage by a track of stars!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chicken</span><br> +I do not like the Cock because I m such a homely bird!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Chicken</span><br> +I do not like the Cock because he has his picture painted in purple on +all the plates!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Chicken</span><br> +I do not like the Cock because on all the steeples he has his statue in +gilt-bronze!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +[<i>To a big overgrown</i> <span class="smcap">Chicken</span>.] Well, well!—And you, Capon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Capon</span><br> +[<i>Dryly.</i>] I do not like the Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span><br> +[<i>Beginning to strike eight inside the house.</i>] Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +The hour!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cuckoo</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Owl</span><br> +Let us go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +The moon!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +Silently cleave the blue air—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Mole</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly pushing up through the ground.</i>]—the dark earth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +There comes the Mole!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Mole</span>.] And you, why do you hate him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Mole</span><br> +I hate him because I have never seen him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span><br> +Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +And you, Cuckoo, do you know why you hate him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span><br> +[<i>On the last stroke.</i>] Because he does not have to be wound up! Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Owl</span><br> +And we do not love—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Owl</span><br> +[<i>Hurriedly.</i>] We are keeping the others waiting—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +—the Cock, because—[<i>They fly off. Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Coming slowly from behind the kennel.</i>] I am beginning to love him!</p> + +<p class="center p2"><span class="smcap">Curtain</span></p> + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + + +<h2><span class="smcap">Act Second</span><br> + +<span class="small"><span class="smcap">The Morning of the Cock</span></span></h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Wild hillside, moss-grown and ferny, overlooking a valley with +scattered villages and winding river. Ruined wall, fragment of some +vanished terrace. Gigantic chestnut tree, rank hollies and foxgloves. +Litter suggesting neglected corner of a park: gardening implements lying +on the ground, fagots, broken flower-pots.</i></p> + + +</div> +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene First</span></h3> +</div> +<p><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Night-birds</span>, <i>of all sorts and sizes, form a great circle, +perching in tiers on the branches, the briers, the stones; the</i> <span class="smcap">Cat</span> +<i>crouches in the grass; the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>hops hither and thither on +a fagot.</i></p> + +<p><i>At the rise of the curtain the</i> <span class="smcap">Night-birds</span> <i>are discovered, +motionless, black shapes with closed eyes. The</i> <span class="smcap">Grand Duke</span> <i>is perched +upon a tree branch above the rest. The</i> <span class="smcap">Screech-owl’s</span> <i>phosphorescent +eyes alone are wide open. He proceeds with the roll-call, and at every +name two great round eyes brighten in the dark.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>Calling.</i>] Strix! [<i>Two eyes light up.</i>] Scops! [<i>Two more eyes light +up.</i>] Grand-Duke! [<i>Two more eyes.</i>] Metascops! [<i>Two more eyes.</i>] +Minor! [<i>Two more eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One Night-bird</span><br> +[<i>To the other.</i>] The Great Bubo presides.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>Calling.</i>] Owl of the Wall! Of the Belfry! Of the Cloister! Of the +Yew! [<i>At every name two more eyes have opened wide.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Night-bird</span><br> +[<i>To another just arriving.</i>] The roll is called!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Other</span><br> +I know. All there is to do is to open our eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Asio! Nictea! Nyctalis! [<i>Three more pairs of eyes have opened.</i>] +Brachyotus! [<i>No eye opening at the name, he repeats.</i>] Brachyotus!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Night-birds</span><br> +He will be here directly. He stopped to eat a linnet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Brachyotus</span><br> +[<i>Arriving.</i>] Present!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Not one of them would miss, when the meeting relates to the Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Brachyotus</span><br> +Not one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Carine! [<i>Two eyes open.</i>] Caparacoch! [<i>No eye opening, he repeats +emphatically.</i>] Ca-pa-ra-coch!—Well?—Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Caparacoch</span><br> +[<i>Arriving out of breath, opens his eyes, faltering an excuse. </i>] I live +a long way off!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>Dryly.</i>] You should have started the earlier! [<i>Looking around.</i>] We +are all present, I believe. [<i>Calling.</i>] Flammeolus! And Flammeoline! +[<i>All the eyes are now open.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Solemnly.</i>] Before beginning, let us give, but not too loud, the cry +which makes us all as one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Long live the Night!</span><br> + +<p><i>And in a weird, savage, hurried chorus, interspersed with hoots and +flapping of wings, all talking together and rocking themselves in +hideous glee.</i></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the Night, discreet, propitious,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When with wadded wing and muted</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O er the sleeping world we fly,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the partridge in the bracken</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ne’er suspects the hovering presence</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Till we pounce without a cry.</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the Night, convenient, secret,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When in slaughtering baby rabbits</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We can do it at our ease,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Daub the grass with blood in comfort,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Spare the pains to look like heroes,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Be ourselves where no one sees!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Old Horned-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the density of darkness!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Wood-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The intensity of stillness</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Letting crunching bones be heard!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Barn-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Freshness pleasantly contrasting</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the genial warmth of blood drops</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Spurting from a strangled bird!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Wood-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the black rock oozing terror!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the cross-roads where our screeches,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Furrowing the startled air,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our demoniac yelling, hooting,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Make the hardened unbeliever</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cross himself and fall to prayer!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the snares of the great Weaver,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Night, whose only fault or weakness</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is her tolerance of stars!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For spectators are not wanted</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">At the work of plucking fledglings—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Be they Jupiter and Mars!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the Night, when we take vengeance</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On the goldfinch for his beauty,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">On the titmouse for his grace!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When the darkness takes possession</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let them tremble, those confiding</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hostages of Day’s!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Wood-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For there is a choice in murder!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the inkier the blackness</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All the clearer do we see</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To select the whitest pigeon</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the dove-cote, and the bluest</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Blue jay on the shuddering tree!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Barn-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the hour and taste and relish</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of the eggs we suck, destroying</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hopes of many a haughty line!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the councils where in whispers</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We prepare what shall resemble</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Accidents by every sign!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Praise the shadow’s grim suggestions!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The advantage over others</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We inherit through their fright!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For our grisly cachinnations</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Give the very eagle goose-flesh—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">All Together</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Praise our patroness, the Night!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +And now let the Screech-Owl in his russet robe take the floor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Several Voices</span><br> +Silence!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>On his fagot.</i>] What an awf’ly lovely evening party!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>Oratorically.</i>] Brethren of the Night—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Owl</span> <i>next to him.</i>] The meeting-place seems to me particularly +well chosen. The blackest spot, the moldiest tree. To the right, old +postherds. To the left, in the dark between the hollies—the view!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Brethren of the Night!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +There comes the Mole!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Several Voices</span><br> +Silence!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owl</span><br> +She must have taken, to come here, a route below the roots of the +daisies—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The subway, what else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>To his neighbor.</i>] Is that the Blackbird?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Coming forward.</i>] Yes, your Grace. And the two agate balls over there +are the Cat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +I can hear him licking his paws.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>Resuming.</i>] Brethren of the Night! Inasmuch as everybody here—and we +plume ourselves upon it!—is possessed of the evil eye—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Birds</span><br> +[<i>Chuckling and rocking in their peculiarly disgusting and +characteristic fashion.</i>] Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Spreading his wings to demand silence.</i>] Hush! [<i>All return to their +appalling stillness.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +My eye is merely roguish. I am here to look on, you know, without taking +sides,—in the artist spirit, that’s all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +If you are not taking sides, then you are siding with us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Oh, I say, what a primitive notion!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>Completing his sentence.</i>] Let us express ourselves with simple and +direct malevolence: the Cock is a robber!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +A robber! He robs us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Now, what the—Robs you of what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +Of health! Gladness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +How is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +By his crowing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +His crowing brings on enlargement of the spleen and pericarditis! For it +heralds—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping about.</i>] Oh, I see—The light!</p> + +<p>[<i>All make a violent motion in his direction; the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> +<i>frightened, hides among the fagots.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Emphatically.</i>] Never speak that word! When that word is spoken, Night +at the horizon feels a crawling discomfort, a titillation underneath +her wing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Cautiously correcting himself.</i>] The brightness of—[<i>General start +of dismay repeated; the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>again dodges behind the fagots.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +[<i>Hurriedly.</i>] Never utter that horrible grating word, which so +hatefully suggests the scratching of a match!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +You should express yourself: The Cock heralds the folding back of the +pall—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +But the day—[<i>Start and threatening gesture from all.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>In voices of unspeakable anguish.</i>] Not that word!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +You must refer to it as “that which will be!”</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +What difference does it make whether or not he heralds the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Stopping him.</i>] Ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +—the folding back of the pall, since that which will be—will be!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>In tones of despair.</i>] Simple torture it is to hear a brazen throat +forever reminding you of what you know to be only too true!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Writhing in pain.</i>] Too true! Too true!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +He begins while the night is still pleasant and cool—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cries on All Sides</span><br> +He is a robber, a thief!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +He cheats us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Owls</span><br> +He cheats us! Cheats us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +Of the good bit of night there still is left.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owlet</span><br> +He compels us to leave our posts beside the warrens—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Our feasts of steaming flesh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Wood-owl</span><br> +The witches’ routs where we ride perched on the fist of a hag!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +After cock-crow an Owl is no longer in his normal state—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +He does evil in a hurry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +And bungles it in consequence!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Horned-owl</span><br> +As soon as the Cock has crowed all becomes temporary provisional—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Barn-owl</span><br> +Though the Night be still black, we are painfully aware of it growing +less and less black!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +When his metallic voice has cleft the night, we squirm like a worm in a +fruit that is cut in two.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>On his fagot, mystified.</i>] The other Cocks, however—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +Their song creates no uneasiness. It is his song which must be silenced.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Night-birds</span><br> +[<i>Flapping their wings, in a long lament.</i>] Silenced! Silenced!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +How can it be accomplished?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +The Blackbird here has worked in our cause.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Who—I ?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Yes, you laughed at him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Cackling.</i>] Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Spreading his wings.</i>] Hush! [<i>They resume their sinister stillness.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +But his song has not acted any the less directly on our gall-bladders +for the fun that has been made of him. He has grown stronger than ever +since he was found ridiculous.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +What shall we do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +The Peacock, that great booby—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Cackling and rocking.</i>] Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Opening his wings.</i>] Hush! [<i>All instantly motionless.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Through the Peacock, likewise working in our cause, the Cock came out of +fashion. But his song is just as inconvenient, in fashion or out of it. +He is all the more proudly uncompromising for no longer being in style.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +What shall we do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +Cut his throat!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cries</span><br> +Death to the Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +Death to that aristocrat posing as a democrat and socialist!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +With spurs on his heels, but a liberty cap on his head!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +Night-birds all, arise!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">All</span>, <i>arising with outspread wings and glaring eyes, increase +enormously in size. The night appears doubly dark.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>With unabated lightness.</i>] Midnight to the fore!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +Kill him! But how can we, when our eyes cease to see the moment he comes +out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Wailing like an ancient chorus.</i>] Woe!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Old Horned-owl</span><br> +[<i>Craftily.</i>] How kill—from afar?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +By means of what secret spring?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>From the tree.</i>] Duke, may I lay a plan before the assembly?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +Scops! Let us hear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>At sight of a small</i> <span class="smcap">Owl</span> <i>dropping from a bough, and coming forward +with tiny hops.</i>] Scops, dear little Scops!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +[<i>Bowing before the</i> <span class="smcap">Grand-duke</span>.] You are aware, mighty +Blind-by-day-and-seer-by-night, that in pleasant gardens up yonder hill +a breeder of birds—termed aviculturist, raises for exhibitions—termed +agricultural, the most magnificent Cocks of the most extraordinary +varieties. Now, that great discoverer of rare birds, the Peacock, who, +possessing a voice which pierces the ear-drum cannot abide a voice which +pierces the darkness—the Peacock, whose specialty it is to confer +celebrity upon every strange beast—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>To his neighbour.</i>] From every strange region!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +Cherishes the dream of presenting these same Cocks to-morrow, in the +kitchen garden, at the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All Together</span><br> +[<i>Laughing.</i>] Guinea-hen’s!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +And launching among her set these Birds whose glory will be the +finishing blow to the glory of Chantecler.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Flatten him out like a pan cake!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech Owl</span><br> +But those Cocks are always locked in!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +I am coming to that. This evening, when a maid, having entered their +wire-netted close, was scattering corn in a golden shower, I started up +suddenly from the hollow of a pollard willow, and the girl—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +[<i>To his neighbour.</i>] What a bright mind, our little Scops!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +At sight of the ill-omened bird—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Cackling and rocking.</i>] Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Spreading his wings.</i>] Hush! [<i>All suddenly still.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +Fled, with one arm across her eyes! The cage was left open, and the +whole fantastic host will meet Chantecler to-morrow at the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>With peals of laughter.</i>] Guinea-hen’s!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +He is not going. He has refused.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +The devil!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +[<i>Quietly.</i>] Go on, Scops. He will be there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Looking at him from a distance.</i>] What do you know about it, pocket +panther?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +I saw a Pheasant-hen exciting his admiration, and I saw that he would +go.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +It’s when you’re sound asleep that you see everything!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Scops</span>.] Very well, then, let us suppose him going.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +Chantecler, for all his fame, has retained his bluff country squire’s +frankness. When he sees this—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Prompting.</i>] Tea-fight—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +And the contortions of those—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Snobs—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +In the presence of those—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Big guns—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +He is sure to say things which they are equally sure to take up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Thrilled.</i>] And do you believe that a cock-fight—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +Such is my fond hope.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +But listen, Scops. Suppose Chantecler should win?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +Know, Angora, that there will be among those fancy cocks a genuine +game-cock, lean, with tawny wing, the same who—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Seeing the</i> <span class="smcap">Owls</span> <i>puff out their feathers for joy.</i>] Sensation among +the audience!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +The same who has defeated the most famous champions—the White Pile. +And as this victor in Flemish and English encounters wears at his heels, +for the defter dispatching of his enemy, two razors fastened there by +the ingenuity of man, by tomorrow night Chantecler will be dead, and his +eyes picked out of their sockets.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Screech-owl</span><br> +[<i>Enthusiastically.</i>] We will go and gloat over his corpse!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Risen to his full height, formidable.</i>] And his comb, which looked +above his forehead like an incarnate bit of scarlet dawn, we will take +his comb,—our dearest dream at length fulfilled!—and we will eat it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>With a yell, which ends in their ferocious cackling and rocking.</i>] And +we will eat it,—eat it, ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>Spreading his wings.</i>] Hush! [<i>Dead silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +And after that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping.</i>] It’s quite a tidy proposition as it stands—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Your scheme! By Jingo, if I were the sort of bird to take things +solemnly, I would go straight to the Cock and tell him. But I will do +nothing of the sort. [<i>He concludes, with four little hops.</i>] For I +know—that all this—will turn out—beautifully!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +[<i>Ironically.</i>] Beautifully indeed! [<i>He continues in growing +excitement.</i>] And after that, if those absurd Cocks of far-fetched +breeds have not by to-morrow evening gone back to their cages, we will +eat them all, no longer good for anything!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>In his neighbour’s ear.</i>] And after that we will eat the Blackbird for +dessert.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Who has not caught the last sentence.</i>] What did he say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scops</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] Nothing! [<i>In a still increasing frenzy of glee.</i>] And +after that—</p> + +<p>[<i>In the distance: Cock-a-doodle-doo! Instant silence. </i><span class="smcap">Scops</span> <i>stops +short and collapses, as if mown down. All the puffed </i><span class="smcap">Owls</span> <i>appear +suddenly to have grown thin.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Looking at one another and blinking.</i>] What is it? What was that? +[<i>They hastily spread their wings and call to one another for flight.</i>] +Grand-Duke! Minor! Minimus!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping from one to the other.</i>] Going? So soon? Why, what’s your +hurry?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span><br> +[<i>Of one of the</i> <span class="smcap">Night-birds</span> <i>calling to another.</i>] Nyctalis!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +It’s hours before daybreak. Oceans of time, you have!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Owl</span><br> +Asio, are you coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Owl</span><br> +[<i>Calling.</i>] Nictea!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +[<i>Fluttering up to him.</i>] Yes, my dear! [<i>They all stagger and trip over +their wings.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +What makes them stumble?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Night-birds</span><br> +[<i>Winking and blinking with marked evidences of pain.</i>] Oh, how it +hurts! Ow! Ow!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Lightning opthalmia, I declare! [<i>One by one the</i> <span class="smcap">Owls</span> <i>fly off.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Grand-duke</span><br> +[<i>The last to go, spins on himself with a cry of pain and rage.</i>] How +does he contrive, that pernicious Cock, to have a voice that fairly puts +out your eyes! [<i>He heavily flaps off.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices of the Night-birds</span><br> +[<i>In the distance.</i>] Strix!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Looking after them among the branches, and later in the blue space +over the valley.</i>] They are calling one another!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice in the Distance</span><br> +Scops!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Bending over the valley, where the dark wings are dwindling and +fading.</i>] They wheel—waver—dip—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices</span><br> +[<i>Dying in the distance.</i>] Owl of the Wall! Of the Belfry! Of the Yew!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Gone! [<i>He looks about, gives a hop, and with an immediate return to +levity.</i>] But it’s supper-time.—Now for a bite of cold grasshopper! +[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>suddenly flies over the brushwood tangle, dropping +beside him.</i>] You!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Second</span></h3> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird, the Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>later</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Panting, tragically earnest.</i>] I ran all the way.—You were +there.—Oh, I am half dead with terror!—Well you must have overheard +their dreadful secret! You, his friend!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Cheerfully rummaging among the moss.</i>] Or the thigh of a katydid will +do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I was watching from a distance. I crouched in a ditch—[<i>In an anguished +voice.</i>] Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>In genuine surprise.</i>] Well, what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Their conspiracy—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Calmly.</i>] It all went off very nicely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The shadow was a correct and appropriate blue, and the Owls said +perfectly characteristic things.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In wild alarm.</i>] Heavens, they plotted his death?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +His decease, which is not nearly so bad.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Don’t smite your brow! In spite of the Screech-Owl’s grave and +self-important tone, I shouldn’t wonder if it all amounted to +very little.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Those Owls—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Are good enough in their various parts, but it’s the old excessive style +of acting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I beg your pardon?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Back numbers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +They have eyelashes, fancy, all the way round their eyes! It’s too much +of a good thing, really.—And that black plot, those desperately dark +designs, all that belongs to the year one; you can see moss growing +on its back!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Fluttering hither and thither feverishly.</i>] I am never quite sure of +understanding when a person is talking in fun.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Winking at her.</i>] No flies on your acting!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Surely you wouldn’t be laughing if he were in danger? Those ruffians—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Prattlers! Wooden Swords! Knights of Hot Air!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But Scops—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +A stuffed Owl!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And the Great Bubo—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Just two ten-candle-power lamps, to be turned on and off with a +switch,—crick-crack! And Flammeolus, two lamps likewise—but acetylene!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Bewildered by his imagery.</i>] And so—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +No, trembling Gypsy, there’s not enough in this great plot to choke a +flea withal!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Truly? I have been so horribly afraid—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Fear, I warn you, lovely Zingara, leads to dyspepsia! It’s because he +keeps his eye closed and buried in the sand that the ostrich has +preserved his famous digestion!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +So it might seem.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +We have in these latter days bowed Tragedy respectfully out of the +house!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But had we not best warn Chantecler, so that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +He would go instantly and challenge them. And then such a whetting of +steel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are right. So he would.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +On your principle, mad Gitana, an oak-gall could be made into a world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You have much good sense.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Daughter of the forest, I have.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler’s Voice</span><br> +[<i>Outside.</i>] Coa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Approaching on the left, between the hollies, calls from afar.</i>] Who +is there?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +It is I !</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Still from a distance.</i>] Alone?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>With a significant look at the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Yes, alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Understanding.</i>] I vanish—I am off to supper.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Low to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] And so—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Motioning her to be silent.</i>] Keep it dark! [<i>As he is leaving, by the +right, in the manner of one giving an order to a waiter.</i>] Earwigs +for one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Low.</i>] It is wiser, you think, not to tell him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Before disappearing among the flower-pots.</i>] Well, rather!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Third</span></h3> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen, Chantecler</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Who has reached the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen’s</span> <i>side.</i>] Out so early?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +To see the daybreak.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With repressed emotion.</i>] Ah—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Teasingly.</i>] What troubles you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I have had a wretched night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +So sorry! [<i>A pause.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Are you going to the Guinea-hen’s?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I stayed over solely for that purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah, yes, I know. [<i>A pause.</i>] I dislike her extremely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Come to her party.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +As you please. Then we may as well say good-bye.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Come to the Guinea-hen’s. We shall have a chance to see something of +each other there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are determined not to come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am coming—but I hate it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +It is weak.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +No, no! That is no great sign of weakness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Softly, coming closer to him.</i>] What would be showing a sweet, +delightful, and fully masculine weakness—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In alarm at her approach.</i>] What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Would be to tell me your secret. Oh, just a wee bit!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a start.</i>] The secret of my song?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Golden Hen, my secret—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Coaxingly.</i>] Often from the edge of the woods I hear you in the first +golden glimmer of day—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Flattered.</i>] My song has reached your shapely little ear?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +It has!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Abruptly, moving away from her.</i>] My secret—Never!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are not very gallant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No—I am full of conflict and misery.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Languidly reciting.</i>] The Cock and the Pheasant-hen a Fable—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Half aloud.</i>] A Cock loved a Pheasant-hen—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And would not tell her anything—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Moral—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +It was horrid of him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Pressing close to her.</i>] Moral: Your dress has the fascinating rustle +of silk!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Moral: I dislike familiarity! [<i>Withdrawing from him.</i>] Go home to your +Hen of the plebeian petticoat!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Stamping.</i>] I shall be angry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +No, no, don’t be angry—Say “Coa—” [<i>They stand bill to bill.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Angrily.</i>] Coa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +No, no! Say it nicely—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a long, tender coo.</i>] Coa—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Look at me without laughing. Your secret—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are dying to tell it to me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Yes, I feel that I shall tell, and I know I shall do ill in telling. And +it’s all because of the gold on her dainty little head! [<i>Going +brusquely nearer to her.</i>] Shall you prove worthy, at least, of having +been chosen? Is your breast true red to the core?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Now tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Look at me, Pheasant-hen, and try, if indeed it be possible, try to +recognise, by yourself, sign by sign, the vocation of which my body is +the symbol. Guess, to begin with, at my destiny from my shape, and see +how, curved like a sort of living hunting-horn, I am as much formed for +sound to turn and gain volume within me, as the wild duck is formed to +swim!—Wait!—Mark the fact that, impatient and proud, scratching up the +earth with my claws, I appear always to be seeking something in +the soil—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are seeking for grains of corn, seeds, I suppose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Never! I have never looked for such things. I find them occasionally, +into the bargain, but disdainfully I give them to my Hens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Well, then, in your perpetual scratching, what is it you are looking +for?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The right spot! For always before singing I carefully choose my stand. +Pray, observe—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +True, and then you ruffle your feathers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I never start to sing until my eight claws, after clearing a space of +weeds and stones, have found the soft, dark turf underneath. Then, +placed in direct contact with the good earth, I sing!—And that is +already half the mystery, Pheasant-hen, half the mystery of my song, +which is not of those songs one sings after composing them, but is +received straight from the native soil, like sap! And the time above all +when that sap arises in me,—the hour, briefly, in which I have genius, +in which I can never doubt I have!—is the hour when dawn falters on the +boundaries of the dark sky. Then, filled with the same quivering as +leaves and grass, thrilled to the very tips of my wing quills, I feel +myself a chosen instrument. I accentuate my curve of a hunting-horn, +Earth speaks in me as in a conch, and ceasing to be an ordinary bird, I +become the mouthpiece, in some sort official, through which the cry of +the earth escapes toward the sky!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And that cry which rises from the earth, that cry is such a cry of love +for the light, is such a deep and frenzied cry of love for the golden +thing we call the Day, and that all thirst to feel again: the pine on +its bark, the tortuous roots in woodland paths on their mosses, the +feather-grass on each delicate spray, the tiniest pebble in its tiniest +mica flake; it is so wonderfully the cry of all that misses and mourns +its colour, its reflection, its flame, its coronet, its pearl; the +beseeching cry of the dew-washed meadow begging for a wee rainbow at +every grass-tip, of the forest begging a burst of fire at the end of +each gloomy avenue; that cry which mounts to the sky through me is so +greatly the cry of all that feels itself in disgrace, plunged in a +sunless pit, deprived of light without knowing for what offence; is the +cry of cold, the cry of fear, the cry of weariness, of all that night +disables or disarms; the rose shivering alone in the dark, the hay +wanting to be dried and go to the mow, the sickle forgotten out of doors +by the reaper and fearing it will rust in the grass, the white things +dismayed at not looking white; is so greatly the cry of the innocent +among beasts, who have nothing to conceal, of the brook fain to show its +crystal clearness; and even—for thy very works, O Night, disown +thee!—of the puddle longing to glisten, the mud longing to become earth +again, by drying; it is so greatly the magnificent cry of the field +impatient to feel its wheat and barley growing, of the blossoming tree +mad for still more blossoms of the green grapes craving a purple side; +of the bridge waiting for footsteps, for shadows of birds among shadows +of branches; the voice of all that yearns to sing, to drop the garb of +mourning, live again, serve again, be a brink, be a bourn, a sun-warm +seat, a stone glad to comfort with warmth the hand touching, or the +insect overcrawling it; finally, it is so greatly the cry toward the +light of all Beauty, all Health, all which wishes, in sunshine and joy, +to see its work while doing it, and do it to be seen—And when I feel +that vast call to the Day arising within me, I so expand my soul to make +it more sonorous, by making it more spacious, that the great cry may +still be increased in greatness; before giving it, I withold it in my +soul a moment so piously; then, when, to expel it, I contract my soul, I +am so convinced of accomplishing a great act, I have such faith that my +song will make night crumble like the walls of Jericho—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Frightened.</i>] Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And sounding its victory beforehand, my song springs forth so clear, so +proud, so peremptory, that the horizon, seized with a rosy +trembling—<i>obeys!</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I sing! Vainly Night offers to compromise, offers a dubious twilight—I +sing again! And suddenly—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I fall back, blinded by the red light bathing me, dazzled at having, I , +the Cock, made the Sun to rise!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Then the whole secret of your song—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Is that I dare assume that the East without me must rest in idleness! I +sing, not to hear the echo repeat, a shade fainter, my song! I think of +light and not of glory! Singing is my fashion of waging war and bearing +witness. And if my song is the proudest of songs, it is that I sing +clearly to make the day rise clear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What he says sounds slightly mad!—You are responsible for the rising +of—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That which opens flower, eye, soul, and window! Certainly! My voice +dispenses light! And when the sky is grey, the reason is that I have +sung badly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But when you sing by day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am practising, or else promising the ploughshare, the hoe, the harrow, +the scythe, not to neglect my duty of waking them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But what wakens you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The fear of forgetting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And you believe that at the sound of your voice the whole world is +suffused—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I have no clear idea of the whole world. But I sing for my own valley, +and desire that every Cock may do the same for his.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Still—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But here I stand, explaining, perorating, and forgetting altogether to +make my dawn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +His dawn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah, what I say sounds mad? I will make the dawn before your very eyes! +And the wish to please you adding its ardour to the ordinary forces of +my soul, I shall rise in singing, as I feel, to unusual heights, and the +dawn will rise more fair to-day than ever it rose before!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +More fair?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Assuredly,—in just the measure that strength is added to the song by +the knowledge of listeners, boldness to the exploit by the consciousness +of lovely watching eyes—[<i>Taking his stand upon a hillock at the back, +overlooking the valley.</i>] Now, Madam!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Gazing at his outline against the sky.</i>] How beautiful he is!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Look attentively at the sky. Already it has paled. The reason is that a +short while back, with my earliest crow I ordered the sun to stand in +readiness just below the horizon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +He is so beautiful that what he says almost seems possible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Talking toward the horizon.</i>] Ha, Sun, I feel you just behind there, +stirring—and I laugh with pride and joy amidst my scarlet +wattles—[<i>Rising on tiptoe suddenly, in a voice of startling +loudness.</i>] Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What great breath lifts his breast-feathers?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Toward the east.</i>] Obey!—I am the Earth, and I am Labour! My comb is +the pattern of a forge fire, and the voice of the furrow rises to my +throat! [<i>Whispering mysteriously.</i>] Yes, yes, month of July—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +To whom is he speaking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You shall have it earlier than April! [<i>Bending to right and left, +encouragingly.</i>] Yes, Bramble!—Yes, Brake!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +He is magnificent!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] You see, I must at all times +remember—[<i>Stroking the earth with his wing.</i>] Yes, dear +Grass!—remember the humble prayers whose interpreter I become. +[<i>Talking to invisible things.</i>] The golden ladder?—I understand! that +you may all dance on it together!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +To whom are you promising a ladder?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +To the Motes—Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Watching the sky and landscape.</i>] A shiver of blue runs across the +thatched roofs.—A star went out just then—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No, it veiled itself. Even by daylight the stars are there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You do not extinguish them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I extinguish nothing! But you shall see how great I am at kindling!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh, I see a dawning of—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What do you see?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The blue is no longer blue!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I told you! It is already green!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The green is turning to orange—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You will have been the first this morning to see the transformation!</p> + +<p>[<i>The distant plain takes on velvety purplish hues.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +It all seems to end in leagues of purple heather.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Whose crow is beginning to tire.</i>] Cock-a-doo—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh—yellow among the pine trees!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Gold it ought to be,—gold!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And pearly grey—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +It shall be white!—I haven’t done it yet! Cock-a-doodle-doo—It’s very +bad so far, but I won’t give up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Every hollow in every tree is pink as a wild rose—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With growing enthusiasm.</i>] Since love lends me strength in addition to +faith, I say the Day to-day shall be more beautiful that the Day!—Do +you see? Do you see the eastern sky at my voice dappling itself +with light?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Lured along and half persuaded by the madness of the</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span>.] Such a +thing might be, after all, since love is involved in the mystery!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Resume, horizon, at my command, your fringe of little poplars!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Bending over the valley.</i>] There emerges from the shadow, gradually, a +world of your creation—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Sacred things you are witnessing—To sacred things I am initiating +you!—Define your outlines, distant hills! Pheasant-hen, do you love me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +We shall always love to be in the secret of the Makers of Dawn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You help me to sing better. Come closer. Collaborate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Springing to his side.</i>] I love you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Every word you whisper in my ear shall be translated into sunshine for +all the world to see!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I love you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Say it again, and I will gild that mountain suddenly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Wildly.</i>] I love you!—Let me see you gild it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In his greatest, most splendid manner.</i>] Cock-a-doodle-doo! [<i>The +mountain turns golden.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pointing to the lower ranges, still purple.</i>] But the hills?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Each in its turn. To the highest peaks belong the earliest rays! +Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Ah!—across yonder drowsing slope a stealing gleam—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Joyously.</i>] I dedicate it to you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The distant villages are coming into view.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Cock-a—[<i>His voice breaks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are weary!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Stiffening himself.</i>] I refuse to be! [<i>Wildly.</i>] Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Exhausted!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Do you see those tatters of mist still clinging? Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You will kill yourself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I only live, dear, when I am killing myself giving great splendid cries!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pressing close to his side.</i>] I am proud of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With emotion.</i>] Your head bows—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I listen to the Day arising in your breast! I delight to hear first in +your lungs what by-and-by will be purple and gold on the mountain sides!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>While the little distant houses begin to smoke in the dawn.</i>] I +dedicate to you moreover those reawakened farmsteads. Man offers +trinkets, I wreaths and plumes of smoke!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking off.</i>] I can see your work growing,—growing in the distance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking at her.</i>] I can see it in your eyes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Over the meadows—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +On your throat—[<i>In a smothered voice.</i>] Oh, it is exquisite!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am at once doing my duty, and making you more fair. I am gilding my +valley, while brightening your wing. [<i>Tearing himself from love, and +dashing toward the right.</i>] But the shadow still fights all along the +line of retreat. There is much to be done over there! Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking up at the sky.</i>] Oh, look!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking too, sadly.</i>] How can I prevent it? The morning star is fading +out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a tone of regret for the little bright spark which the growing +light must necessarily quench.</i>] It is fading out—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Alas!—But shall we therefore despond? [<i>And tearing himself from +melancholy, he springs toward the left.</i>] There is still much to do over +here. Cock-a—[<i>At this point the crowing of other</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span> <i>ascends from +the valley.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>listens, then softly.</i>] Hark! Do you hear +them now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Who dare—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The other Cocks.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Bending above the plain.</i>] They are singing in the rosy light—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Yes, they believe in the light as soon as they see it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +They sing all in a haze of blue—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I sang in total blackness. My song rose from the cheerless shade, and +was the first to rise. It is when Night prevails that it’s fine to +believe in the Light!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +How dare they sing when you are singing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Let them sing! Their songs acquire significance from mingling with mine, +and their tardy but numerous cries unconsciously hasten the flight of +the dark. [<i>Straightening upon his hillock, he calls to the distant</i> +<span class="smcap">Cocks</span>.] Now, all together!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler and All the Cocks</span><br> +Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Alone, with familiar cordiality.</i>] Forward, forward, boldly, Day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Beside him, stamping her feet.</i>] Boldly, Day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Crying encouragements to the Light.</i>] Yes, there, there before you, is +a roof for you to gild! Come, come, a touch of green on that patch of +waving hemp!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Beside herself with excitement.</i>] A glimmer of white on that road!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A wash of blue on the river!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a great cry.</i>] The Sun! Look, the Sun!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +There he is, I can see him, but we must hale him from that grove! [<i>And +both of them, moving backward together, appear to be drawing something +after them.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>prolonging his crow as if to drag up the</i> <span class="smcap">Sun</span> +<i>by it.</i>] Cooooooo—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Shouting above</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler’s</span> <i>crow.</i>] There he comes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—oock-a—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +—climbing—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—doodle—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +—above—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—doooooo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +—the poplars!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a last, dry-throated, desperate crow.</i>] Cock-a-doodle-doo [<i>Both +stagger, suddenly flooded with light.</i>] It is done! [<i>He adds, in a tone +of satisfaction.</i>] A proper Sun,—a giant! [<i>He totters toward a mossy +rise and drops against it.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running to him, while all grows brighter and brighter.</i>] One song now +to greet the beautiful rising Sun!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Very low.</i>] I have no voice left. I spent it all. [<i>Hearing the other</i> +<span class="smcap">Cocks</span> <i>crowing in the valley, he adds gently.</i>] It matters not. He has +the songs and praises of the others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Surprised.</i>] What? After he appears, he hears no more from you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No more.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Indignant.</i>] But in that case, perhaps the Sun believes the other +Cocks have made him rise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +It matters not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Hush! Come to my heart and let me thank you. Never has there been a +lovelier dawn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But what will repay you for all your pains?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Echoes of awakening life down in the valley! [<i>Confused living noises +are beginning to mount from below.</i>] Tell me of them. I have not the +strength to listen for myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Runs to the top of the rise, and listens.</i>] I hear a finger knocking +against the rim of a brazen sky—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With closed eyes.</i>] The Angelus.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Other strokes, which sound like a human Angelus after the divine—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The forge-hammer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Lowing,—then a song—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The plow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Continuing to listen.</i>] Sounds as of a bird’s nest fallen into the +little street—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With growing emotion.</i>] The school!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Imps of whom I catch no glimpse buffet one another in the water—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Women washing linen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And suddenly, on all sides, what are they—iron locusts rubbing their +wings together?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Half rising, in the fullness of pride.</i>] Ah, if scythes are whetting, +the reapers will soon be harvesting the golden grain! [<i>The sounds +increase and mingle: bells, hammers, washer-women’s wooden spades, +laughter, singing, grinding of steel, cracking of whips.</i>] All at work! +And I have done that!—Oh, impossible!—Pheasant-hen, help me! This is +the dreadful moment! [<i>He looks wildly about him.</i>] I made the sunrise! +I did! Wherefore And how? And where? No sooner does my reason +return—than I go mad! For I who believe I have power to rekindle the +celestial gold—I well—oh, it is dreadful—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What is?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am humble-minded, modest! You will never tell?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +No, no!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You promise? Ah! let my enemies never know!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Moved.</i>] Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I feel myself unworthy of my glory. Why was I chosen, even I to drive +out black night? No sooner have I brought the heavens to a white glow, +than the pride which lifted me aloft drops dead. I fall to earth. What, +I so small, I made the immeasurable dawn? And having done this, I must +do it again? Nay, but I cannot! Nay, it would be vain! Never need I +attempt it! Despair overtakes me—Comfort me, love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Tenderly.</i>] My own!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Such a burden of responsibility resting upon me! That inspiring breath +which I await when I scratch in the sand, will it come again? I feel the +whole future depending upon an incomprehensible something which might +perchance fail me! Do you understand now the anguish gnawing me? Ah, the +swan is certain, by bending his neck, to find under water the grasses he +delights in; the eagle, when he swoops from the blue, sure of falling +upon his prey; and you are ever sure of finding in the earth the well +supplied nests of the ants,—but I for whom my own work remains a +mystery, I possessed ever by the fear of the morrow, am I sure of +finding my song in my heart?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Clasping him with her wings.</i>] Surely, you will find it, surely!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Yes, talk to me like that. I listen, I heed you. You must believe me +when I believe, and not when I doubt. Tell me again—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are beautiful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +About that I care very little.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And you sang beautifully!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Say that I sang badly, but tell me that it is I who make—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Indeed, indeed, I admire you beyond all bounds and measure!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No,—tell me that what I told you is true—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That it is I who make—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Yes, my glorious Beloved, yes, it is you who make the dawn appear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly appearing.</i>] Well, well, old man!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fourth</span></h3></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same, the Blackbird</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The Blackbird!—My secret!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Bowing with every sign of admiration.</i>] Allow me to—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That inveterate mocker! [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Leave us not alone! My +soul is still open—his mockery would enter in!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Ripping!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Where have you come from?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Indicating an empty overturned flower-pot.</i>] From that flower-pot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But how—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I was having my early snack cozily in the earthenware retreat you see, +when suddenly—oh, allow me to express at once the amazement, the +admiration—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Eavesdropping inside a pot! How can you stoop to—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Hang the pot! I ve had a sensation! I tell you I was wild! My feet were +doing such a horn-pipe I had trouble to keep my eye steady at the +peep-hole.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You could see us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Showing the hole at the bottom of the flower-pot.</i>] Could I see you! +Yonder stump of red cone has exactly the black hole to let through my +yellow bill. Apologies,—but it was too tempting! A bird of taste, I am.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +For the sake of this sincere tribute, I forgive you all the rest!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Coming and going in excitement.</i>] Oh, wonderful, and again wonderful, +and then again wonderful!—Hear me rant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Amazed.</i>] What, is it possible that you—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Am I given to gush? This time, old man, it’s the genuine article, +Enthusiasm with a capital <span class="smcap">E</span>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Are you in earnest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Must I send you a blankety carrier-pigeon with the news?—That Cock and +that crow,—oh, my soul!—And then the day breaking,—oh, my stars!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] There seems to be no reason, dear, why I should not +leave you alone together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But where are you going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Slightly ashamed of her own frivolity.</i>] I am going to the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The Guinea-hen’s Day he’s just given the finishing touches to!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Must I go too?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Tenderly.</i>] No, after rising to such heights, I think you may be +excused from the Guinea-hen’s at home!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a touch of sadness.</i>] You, however, are going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Gaily.</i>] I want to show off your sunshine on my dress! I will be back +directly. Wait for me here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Yes, much better keep out of the way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking at him.</i>] Wherefore?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] Nothing! [<i>Falling into fresh ecstasies.</i>] Oh, this blessed +Cock of ours!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] You will not be long?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The merest moment. [<i>Low to him before leaving.</i>] You see, even the +Blackbird is impressed! [<i>She flies off.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fifth</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler, the Blackbird</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Coming back to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] And so that habitual skeptical +sneer—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Wiped out! My satirical whistling, as the Dog called it, now expresses +pure admiration. Listen, like this: [<i>He whistles admiringly.</i>] +Tew!—How is that?—Tew-tew [<i>Nodding soberly.</i>] That’s all right!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Innocently.</i>] You are not such a bad fellow, after all. I said so to +the Dog.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>With profound conviction.</i>] You’re a wonderful old boy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Modestly.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +To come it over the Hens—[<i>He again whistles Admiringly.</i>] make them +believe that he engineers the dawn! [<span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>starts.</i>] A simple +idea, but it took you to get on to it! Brother, I believe you were +hatched in Columbus’ egg!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +All other Don Juans are donkeys beside you! Says he to himself: Make the +daybreak to impress little pheasant-hens! And does it, too—succeeds!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a smothered voice.</i>] Be still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Neat, the little roof which must be gilded! Complete, the ladder for the +Motes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a spasm of pain.</i>] Be still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +And the access of modesty, a sweet little final touch! I kiss my hand to +you! Oh, he knows how—no mistake he knows—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Constraining himself, in a curt voice.</i>] The Dawn? Certainly, I know +her. I think I may claim that honor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +You precious fakir! Don’t you consider you have succeeded?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +In bringing on the day? Yes, certainly, I have succeeded admirably, in +this case.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Oh, you do it so well! How awfully well he does it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Making the light? Of course, I have done it so often! I am used to it. +The Sun obeys me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +So, worthy Joshua! You feel the dawn coming, and then you crow! For +lightness of touch and richness of invention, give us a lyric poet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bursting forth.</i>] Wretch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Surprised.</i>] Are you keeping it up with me? [<i>Winking.</i>] Oh, we know +how the thing is done!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You may know,—not <span class="smcap">I! I</span>just open my heart and sing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping about.</i>] That’s the idea!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Blackbird, laugh at everything besides, but not at that, if you love me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I love you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bitterly.</i>] With half a heart!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Can’t say a word about his <i>Fiat Lux?</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Not that! Not that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Old man, it’s not my fault that I m no gull.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking after him as he hops about.</i>] He cannot keep still long +enough, I suppose, to let the sacred truth sink in. [<i>Trying to stop him +in his hopping.</i>] You behold the agony of emotion shaking me. No more +baffle and keep me off with words!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping past him.</i>] Catch, if you can, and convince me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Imploring.</i>] It’s a matter of life—my profoundest life! Oh, convince +you I must, if only for a second! I feel the holy impulse to struggle +with your soul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping past him.</i>] Do you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +In solemn earnest, at the bottom of your heart, you did—did you +not?—believe me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I believe you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With pressing anguish.</i>] You must in some manner be aware of the +dreadful cost to me of that song? Come, use your reason. To sing as you +heard me sing, you must realise that I needed—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +A whopping muscle and a tolerable nerve!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No, let us not make light of serious things, responsible winged +creatures that we are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Let us go in for heavy-weight truths, by all means!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But can’t you see that to look straight at the sun, rising before his +eyes by the exertions of his larynx, one must have at the same time—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Stentorian lungs and the eyes of a lynx! [<i>He hops out of the way.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Controlling himself.</i>] No, I cannot give up the hope of winning this +soul to the truth! [<i>With desperate patience.</i>] Come, now, have you any +conception, unhappy bird, of what dawn actually is?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I should say so! It’s the time of day when fluffy Aurora gets busy, as +it were, and plays ball!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But what do you say when you see the dawn shining upon the mountains?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Mountains, I say, what on earth are you blushing about?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And what do you say when you hear me singing in the furrow long before +the cricket is awake?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Cricket, I say, you scandalous slug-a-bed! [<i>He hops out of the way.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Beside himself.</i>] Are you conscious of no impulse to exclaim, cry out, +when I have made a dawn so fine and fiery-red that the heron, flying in +the early glow, looks from afar like a flamingo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Sure, brother, sure! I feel like shouting, “Bully, do it again!” [<i>He +hops out of the way.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Exhausted.</i>] That soul! I am more spent with chasing it than with a +whole day’s grasshopper hunting! [<i>Violently.</i>] Did you not see the sky?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Simply.</i>] How could I The ground is all you can see through that +little black hole. [<i>Pointing at the flower-pot.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Did you see the mountain-tops tremble and turn crimson?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +While you were crowing, I had my eye on your feet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Sorrowfully.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +They were performing on the soft sod something choice in the line of +fancy dances!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Giving up.</i>] I pity you! Back to your darkness, obscure Blackbird!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Your obedient servant, illustrious Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +My course is toward the sun!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Take along smoked glasses!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Blackbird, do you know the one thing upon earth worthy that one should +live wholly for its sake?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +There I draw the line. I won’t enter the debate!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That thing is effort, Blackbird—effort, which uplifts and ennobles the +lowest! For which reason, you, contemner of every sublime aspiration, I +contemn! And that fragile roseate snail, struggling unaided to silver +over a whole fagot, I honour!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Snapping up the snail.</i>] I ll make him look silly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a cry of horror.</i>] Abominable! To point a joke—put out a little +flame! An end. Here we part. You have no more heart than soul. +[<i>Going.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hopping up on the fagot.</i>] I have mind, however!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning, disdainfully.</i>] That is open to discussion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Acidly.</i>] Oh, very well! I was administering, in my merry little +characteristic way, a grain of antidote against lunacy. But I wash my +claws of you. Go ahead, justify the report of your enemies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Returning.</i>] Who? What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Strut about with your bill-board: “I m the whole show!”</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You associate with those who hate me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Do you object?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No, you pitiful jester! The habit has grown so strong, you can no more +be in earnest about friendship now than anything else. [<i>Going nearer to +him.</i>] Who are my enemies?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The Owls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You sorry fool! Can’t you see that to believe in my destiny becomes all +too easy if the Owls are against me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Rest happy, then. They have a deal on—your lighting of the world being +a trifle flashy for their taste—a deal on for cutting your throat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Through whom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +A brother bird.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A Cock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +A Saint George of a Cock, who is to meet you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Where?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +At the Guinea-hen’s.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What a farce!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Wait! It’s one of those Cocks bred and trained for fighting, who would +make just two bites of either you or me. [<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>abruptly +starts toward the back.</i>] Where are you going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +To the Guinea-hen’s.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Ha! I forgot our knightly spurs and helmet! [<i>He makes a feint of +preventing him.</i>] Take my advice, don’t go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But I will go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Hold on!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Stopping beside the flower-pot, as if amazed.</i>] How singular!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Did I understand you to say you came out of that flower-pot?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +You did.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Incredulous.</i>] But how could you possibly have got into it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Getting into the pot.</i>] I told you, and tell you again! Through that +little black hole I was looking at the—[<i>He thrusts his bill through +the hole at the bottom.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The earth! And now through a little blue hole you shall look at the sky! +[<i>With a vigorous blow of his wing he turns the pot over the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>, +<i>who is heard fluttering beneath it, with smothered cries.</i>] For you +hate and shun the blue sky, you Dwellers in Pots! But one can force you +to see at least as much as would cover a corn-flower, by overturning +your pot, now and then—with the sweep of a wing! [<i>Off.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center p2"><span class="smcap">Curtain</span></p> + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Act Third</span><br> + + +<span class="small"><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen’s Day</span></span></h2> +</div> +<p class="center"><i>Corner of a kitchen-garden, enclosed on the sides by hedges. At the +back, espaliers. Vegetables and flowers of all kinds. Cold frames. Among +the fruit trees, an upright pole, rigged in an old frock-coat, pair of +trousers, and opera hat, fills the function of scarecrow.</i></p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene First</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen, Hens, Ducks</span>, <i>etc.; the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>the</i> +<span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>, <i>later</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.</p> + +<p><i>At the rise of the curtain, multitudinous clatter and confused swarming +of</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Chickens</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Going impetuously from one to the other.</i>] How do you do? How do you +do?—There is scarcely room to move! My guests reach all the way to the +cucumber patch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus</span><br> +[<i>Up in the air.</i>] +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Busily buzzing</i>—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +A regular crush!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Gazing at a row of huge pumpkins.</i>] What attractive objects!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Art pottery! Rather good of its kind, if I do say so!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chick</span><br> +[<i>Listening with his bill in the air.</i>] Singers?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Yes,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Busily buzzing</i>—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>In her sprightliest manner.</i>] The Wasps! [<i>To a</i> <span class="smcap">Chicken</span>.] How do you +do? [<i>She flits from one guest to the other.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Wasps</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Busily buzzing</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Estival glees.</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Fill we with murmurs</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The mulberry trees</i>!</span><br></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Passing with the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span> <i>and laughing.</i>] So you were caught?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Finishing his story.</i>] Exactly as if a hat had been plumped down over +me. But I managed by beating my wings to throw off the beastly pot. +[<i>Looking around him.</i>] Chantecler has not come yet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Surprised.</i>] Is he coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly appearing on the wheelbarrow, from whence he can watch the +scene as from a pulpit.</i>] I still hope he may change his mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Patou there, in the wheelbarrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Shaking his surly head, and a bit of broken chain hanging from his +collar.</i>] Chantecler told me everything Blackbird, as he went by. In a +towering rage I broke my chain, and am here to keep an eye on the wicked +lot of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Has he invited himself to my party, that +moth-eaten old thing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus</span><br> +[<i>Among the trees.</i>] +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Our praises, Sun, our praises!</i></span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking upward.</i>] Music?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +The Cicadas!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus of Cicadas</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>We simmer in thy gaze,</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>We bask beneath thy blaze,</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Receive our grateful praise!</i></span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +[<i>Low and quickly to his mother.</i>] Tsicadas, mother. You must pronounce +it Tsi!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Magpie</span><br> +[<i>In black coat and white tie, announcing the guests as they arrive +through a hole such as Chickens dig at the foot of hedges.</i>] The Gander!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Gander</span><br> +[<i>Entering, jocularly.</i>] What’s all this fuss and feathers my lady? Our +names called as we enter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Demurely.</i>] Yes, you see, expecting some rather great people, I +thought it well to stand an usher at the blackthorn door.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing.</i>] The Duck!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Duck</span><br> +[<i>Entering, impressed by the elegance of the occasion.</i>] Here is style +and grandeur indeed! Our names called!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Yes, you see, expecting some rather great people—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +The Turkey-hen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey-hen</span><br> +[<i>Entering, after a supercilious glance.</i>] This is quite more of an +affair, my dear, than I was anticipating.—Names called!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Yes, I had in the Magpie to supplement my usual staff.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus</span><br> +[<i>Among blossoming branches.</i>] +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Boom! Boom!</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>From bloom to bloom</i>!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey-hen</span><br> +[<i>Lifting her bill.</i>] A Chorus?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Breezily.</i>] The Bees!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Make distant flowers</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Bride and groom!</i></span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey-hen</span><br> +Wonders on every side!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +The Bees here, the Tsicadas yonder—[<i>To a passing</i> <span class="smcap">Hen</span>.] How do you do? +How do you do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bees</span><br> +[<i>At the right.</i>] +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Boom!</i></span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cicadas</span><br> +[<i>At the left.</i>] +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Our praises!</i></span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bees</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Boom!</i></span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cicadas</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Our praises!</i></span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] My garden produces the most remarkable of +everything!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +The brightest flowers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +The big potatoes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +And peaches! Perfect peaches!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Inconvenienced by the movement and the crowd, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Let +us stand out of the crowd a moment, behind this watering-pot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The watering-pot, alias the Intermittent Baldpate, so called because +there flows from his copper scalp when he is tilted a marvelous growth +of silver hair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Spying the</i> <span class="smcap">Cat</span>, <i>who, outstretched along an apple-bough is watching +with half-closed eyes.</i>] I have among my guests the Cat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Tomkyns de Tomkyns! [<i>A </i> <span class="smcap">Bird</span> <i>is heard warbling in a tree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +I have the Chaffinch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Let him chaff inchworms, what care we?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +The Darning-needle!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +She shall mend up Ragged Robin, now’s his chance!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>More and more disgusted.</i>] All that is supposed to be funny!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pecking a cabbage leaf from which roll drops of dew.</i>] I have the Dew!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Grimly.</i>] Your witticism for her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Brightly.</i>] Fresh-water pearls!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pointing out several</i> <span class="smcap">Chicks</span> <i>walking among the crowd.</i>] Have you seen +them? I have several of the <span class="smcap">A.i</span>.’s Chicks!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +<span class="smcap">A.i</span>.?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +The Acme Incubator.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh, have you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Presenting the</i> <span class="smcap">Chicks</span>.] All from the topmost compartment!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Indeed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Chicks</span><br> +[<i>Nudging his neighbour.</i>] She is dumbfounded!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Contemptuously.</i>] Eggs hatched by the old vulgar method, fie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span>, +Good Lord, exempt us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing.</i>] The Guinea-pig!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +It’s the famous one, you know! The Guinea-pig who was inoculated—surely +you remember the case—very well, that’s the one! There you see him. I +made a point of getting him to come. Everybody is here! I have +everybody! I have—[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-pig</span>.] How do you do? [<i>To the</i> +<span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] I have our great philosopher Tur-Key—Yes, it should be +written with a hyphen—who will give us a little talk among the currant +bushes under the tea-roses—[<i>To a passing</i> <span class="smcap">Hen</span>.] How do you do? [<i>To +the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Educational Tea or Currant Topics! [<i>Whirling from +one to the other.</i>] Everyone is here, everyone of the slightest mark or +consequence! The Pheasant-hen is here, in a frock from fairyland. The +Duck is here, who is so good as to say he will recite for us by and by. +The Tortoise is here—[<i>Noticing that the</i> <span class="smcap">Tortoise</span> <i>is not there</i>] I +was mistaken, the Tortoise is not here. She is late.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Affecting deep concern.</i>] What is the little talk she seems so +regrettably likely to miss?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly serious.</i>] The Moral Problem.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +What a pity!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span> <i>goes to the back, scattering greetings, in ecstasies +of sociability.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Who is the Tortoise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +A hard old character, impervious, I fear, to moral problems, who goes in +for walking matches in a loud check suit!</p> + +<p>[<i>Murmur among the hollyhocks.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Listen, a Drone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Briskly returning.</i>] The Drone is here! In the bright light overhead, +what a stylish figure of a fly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +No “at home” complete without it! Ladies cry for it! Won’t be happy +until—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Jumping up in the air toward the</i> <span class="smcap">Drone</span>.] How do you do? How do you +do? [<i>She follows his flight with excited leaps and hops.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Touching his brow with his wing.</i>] She is dotty!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>At the back, with shrill</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span> <i>cries.</i>] It’s my last day! How +do you do? My last day until August! Mondays in August, don’t forget!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Seeing cherries dropping around her.</i>] Oh, cherries, look!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking upward.</i>] It is the Breeze!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Fluttering forward again, excited as ever.</i>] I have the Breeze, who +now and then shakes down a cherry! I never ask her. She comes unasked. +What’s-his-name is here! And What’s-her-name is here, and—[<i>To the back +tumultuously.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +And Thingumbob, and Stick-in-the-mud! [<i>He has arrived without +appearance of design beneath the tree where the</i> <span class="smcap">Cat</span> <i>is lying, and asks +rapidly, under breath.</i>] Cat, what about the conspiracy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +[<i>Who from his tree can see beyond the hedge.</i>] It is afoot. I see the +interminable file of phenomenal Cocks approaching, headed by the Peacock +who comes to present them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cry</span><br> +[<i>Outside.</i>] Ee—yong! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Crowd</span> <i>throngs toward the entrance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Grumbling.</i>] That abominable concertina cry—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +The Peacock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Have you a fancy name for him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Imitating the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock’s</span> <i>cry.</i>] Our great Accordee-yong!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Second</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same, the Peacock</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>, <i>who enters slowly, with his head borne very stiff +and high.</i>] Master, dear Master, would you be so extremely condescending +as to come and stand with your back to these sunflowers? Peacock! +Sunflowers! A study for Burne-Jones!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Crowding around the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>.] Master! Master!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chicken</span><br> +[<i>Low to the</i> <span class="smcap">Duck</span>.] A word from him can make one’s fortune in society!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Chicken</span><br> +[<i>Who has succeeded in forcing his way to the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>, <i>stammering with +emotion.</i>] Master, what do you think of my latest “cheep”? [<i>Suspense. +Religious silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Solemnly, letting the word drop slowly from his beak.</i>] Definitive. +[<i>Sensation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Duck</span><br> +[<i>Trembling.</i>] And my “quack”? [<i>Suspense.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Ultimate! [<i>Sensation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Delighted, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.] I may say that it is at my days most +especially he throws off these specimens of a verbal art which might +fairly be called—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Lapidary.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>Rolling up their eyes.</i>] Wonderful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Coming forward, faint with emotion.</i>] Master, high priest of taste, +what do you think of my dress? [<i>Suspense.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>After a glance.</i>] Affirmative. [<i>Sensation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Tufted Hen</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] And my bonnet? [<i>Suspense.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Absolute. [<i>Sensation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a burst of emotion.</i>] Our bonnets are absolute!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Affecting exclusive interest in the</i> <span class="smcap">Bees</span>.] Ah, there is the Choir +Invisible striking up again!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Presenting the young</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-cock</span> <i>to the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>.] My son!—What do +you think of him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Plausible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus of Wasps</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Busily buzzing</i>—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Overjoyed, running to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Oh, he said he was +plausible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Who was?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +My son!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chorus of Bees</span></p> +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>When July</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Too holly glows</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Seek the shade</i></span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Inside the rose</i>!</span><br></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Returning to the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>.] Does not the rhythm of that chorus impress +you as—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Asunartetos!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>.] Your guest, my dear, can fit an epithet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Pontiff of the Unexpected Adjective I call him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Distilling his words, in a discordant haughty voice.</i>] True it is +that—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Ah, this is most pleasant, most pleasant! He is going to talk to us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +—a Ruskin rather more refined, I hope, than the earlier one, with a +tact—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Very true!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peacock</span><br> +—a tact for which I stand largely in my own debt, I have constituted +myself Petronius-Priest and Maecenas-Messiah volatile volatiliser of +words, and that, jeweled judge, I love by my cameos and filigrees of +speech to represent the Taste of which I am the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Oh, my poor head!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Nonchalantly.</i>]—shall I say guardian?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Effervescently.</i>] Do say guardian!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +No. Thesmothetes. [<i>Respectful murmur of delight.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Now you have seen our Peacock! Aren’t you +excited?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Slightly bored.</i>] Yes,—because I know the Cock is coming.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Delighted.</i>] To-day? He is coming to-day? [<i>She announces to the +general company, enthusiastically.</i>] Chantecler!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Slightly miffed.</i>] A far greater triumph lies in store for you, fair +friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Triumph? [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span> <i>nods mysteriously.</i>] What triumph?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Walking away from her.</i>] You shall see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Following him.</i>] Of what triumph are you speaking?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +I said, “You shall see!”</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing.</i>] Cock Braekel of Campine!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Third</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same</span>, <i>then gradually the</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Stopping short, amazed.</i>] Braekel? At my party? There’s some mistake.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Braekel Cock</span><br> +[<i>Bowing before her.</i>] Madam—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Breathless with emotion in the presence of this white</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span> <i>braided +with black.</i>] This unexpected pleasure—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing.</i>] Cock Ramelslohe—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Heavens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Finishing.</i>]—of the Slate-blue Claw!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>In the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen’s</span> <i>ear, while the startling</i> <span class="smcap">Ramelslohe</span> <i>bows.</i>] He +is one of the most recent leucotites!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Blankly.</i>] A leucotite—How interesting!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing in a louder and louder, more and more impressive voice.</i>] +Cock Wyandotte of the Sable Spur! [<i>Shiver of emotion among the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Off her head with excitement.</i>] Heavens and gracious powers—my son!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +[<i>Running to her.</i>] Mamma!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Wyandotte! Cock Wyandotte!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>With a fine carelessness.</i>] Cock with strawberry coronet, product of +Art Nouveau!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the newcomers who are surrounded by astonished murmurs.</i>] +Strawberry coronet!—Gentlemen—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +[<i>Who has gone to take a look outside.</i>] Mamma!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +—so kindly condescending to honour my poor house—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +Mamma, there are still others coming!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +His lordship, the Cock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Heavens, what Cock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Cock of Mesopotamia with the Double Comb!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Double! Oh! [<i>Dashing to welcome the newcomer.</i>] Charmed, charmed +indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Out upon the obsolete! I wished to show you a few young gentlemen +slightly superlative and veritably precious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Returning to the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>.] How shall I thank you, Peacock, dear +friend? [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>patronizingly.</i>] You will excuse me, I +know, you charming little thing. You must understand, my dear, that his +lordship the Cock of Mesopotamia has just arrived! [<i>Running to the</i> +<span class="smcap">Cock</span>, <i>who bows his two combs.</i>] A proud day for us! Charmed, delighted, +enchanted!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Magpie</span><br> +Cock d’Orpington of the Feather-ringed Eye!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Feather-ringed—Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The plot thickens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>While the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span> <i>is flying toward the</i> <span class="smcap">Orpington Cock</span>.] Bearded +Cock of Varna!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>.] A typical Slav!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Leaving the</i> <span class="smcap">Orpington</span> <i>for the</i> <span class="smcap">Bearded Cock</span>.] Oh, the Slav soul we +have heard so much about! Charmed, beyond words, charmed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Rose-footed Scotch Grey Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Leaving the</i> <span class="smcap">Bearded Cock</span> <i>for the</i> <span class="smcap">Scotch Grey</span>.] Oh, that rose foot! +I do admire that rose foot! Think of introducing that rose foot at my +tea! [<i>With conviction.</i>] What a social event!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Cock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Out of her senses.</i>] No, I say, no! There can’t be any more!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Cock with Goblet-shaped comb!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Who at every name rushes excitedly toward the newcomer.</i>] Charmed, I +am sure! Oh, what a novel notion! Goblet-shaped!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Blue Cock of Andalusia!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Your egg, I presume, was laid in the vibrating hollow of a guitar! +Delighted and honored,—both!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Cock Langsham!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +A Tartar!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>Smitten with amazement at sight of the black giant.</i>] A Tartar!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Gold-penciled Hamburg Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>At sight of the gold-laced</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span> <i>in the cocked hat.</i>] Gold-penciled +Hamburg!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +My kitchen-garden party will be famous! [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Hamburg Cock</span>, <i>whose +breast is striped with black and yellow.</i>] Oh, what a wonderful +waistcoat! May I ask what it is made of?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Of zebra!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Zebra, you don’t say so! It will be the pride of my life, of my whole—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Cock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Jumping.</i>] No, I can’t believe it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +—of Burma!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Burma! [<i>Increasing general agitation.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +An East Indian.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Oh, I can see his Hindu soul right in his eyes, the Hindu soul we hear +so much about! [<i>Running to the newcomer, in an adoring voice.</i>] +Charmed, charmed! The Hindu soul—oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Padua Cocks—The Dutch Padua of Poland!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Dutch of Poland! This is really more than I ever aspired to!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Padua Cocks</span> <i>enter, shaking their plumes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +The Gold Cock! The Silver Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>In ecstasies of admiration before the flowing plume of the latter.</i>] +With a waterfall on his head!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +And a suspension bridge!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>No longer conscious of what she is saying.</i>] And a suspension bridge!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] Poor Guinea-hen, she will say anything after anybody!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing in a louder and louder tone ever more extraordinary</i> +<span class="smcap">Cocks</span>.] Bagdad Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Dominating the tumult.</i>] Consummately Arabian Nights.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Did you hear? Consummately Arabian Nights!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +To be sure! Awfully Arabian Nights!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Kamaralzaman himself is hardly more so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Bantam Cock with ruffles!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Transported.</i>] How eighteenth century this is! Look, oh, look! A +dwarf! A dwarf! Dwarfs! Little cunning bits of dwarfs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Young Guinea-cock</span><br> +[<i>Low.</i>] Mamma, do control yourself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Screaming in the midst of the</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span>.] No, no, I can’t and won’t! That +is Kamaralzaman! I don’t really know which I prefer, which I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Guelder Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Rushing to the newcomer.</i>] This is truly a treat! Another Belgian!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Serpent-necked Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Rattled.</i>] To you, dear Seacock, I owe this Perpentneck!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Duck-sided Cock! Crow-billed Cock! Hawk-footed Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Who has fallen upon the new arrivals, bursts into shrill volubility +before the last of them.</i>] This surpasses all! An albino! Charmed, my +dear sir, honoured, enchanted! Oh, on his head he wears a cheese!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +So he does, a cheese!—A cream cheese, to be sure! A cream cheese!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +A cream cheese!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +CrËve Coeur Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Rushing to meet him.</i>] Oh, he has horns on his head!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Satanic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Ptarmigan Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Aesthetic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Rushing up to him.</i>] Oh, he wears on his head an Assyrian helmet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +White Pile—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Rushing up to him.</i>] He wears on his head—[<i>Stopping short at sight +of his docked comb.</i>] Nothing whatever. He wears nothing whatever on his +head. How odd it looks!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +[<i>From his apple tree, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>, <i>indicating the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span> +<span class="smcap">Game-cock</span>.] There is the champion. The dust conceals a razor on his lean +foot. [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Game-cock</span> <i>disappears among the throng of fancy</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span>, +<i>who are surrounded by a swarm of cackling</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Negro Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Gone quite mad among the multitude of</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span> <i>now filling the +kitchen-garden with their extraordinary head-gear aigrettes, and plumes +and helmets, double and triple combs.</i>] Charmed, honoured, +enchanted—enchanted, honoured, charmed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +She has taken leave of her wits!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the empty air.</i>] Charmed, charmed, enchanted, en—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Cock with Supernumerary Toe!—Naked-necked Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Naked?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Necked!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To a</i> <span class="smcap">Hen</span>.] My dear, now we shall see something worth while!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Japanese Cocks—Cock Splendens!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>At sight of this</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span> <i>whose tail is eight yards long.</i>] Oh!—In a +swallow tail!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Clump-backed—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Perceiving that this</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span> <i>is absolutely flat at the back.</i>] In a +monkey-jacket!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Finishing.</i>]—or Tailless Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Beside herself.</i>] He has nothing whatever behind! This is the crowning +moment of my career! [<i>To the newcomer, effusively.</i>] Charmed! No +tail! This is—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I like his cheek!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>While more and more heterogeneous</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span> <i>appear.</i>] Cock Walikikili, +called Choki-kukullo! Pseudo-Chinese Cuculicolor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +What a choice gathering!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Kaleidoscopically cosmopolitan.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Blue Java! White Java!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Losing all shame.</i>] Won’t Java cup o’ coffee?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Falling upon the</i> <span class="smcap">Java Cocks</span>.] Charmed, charmed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Brahma Cock! Cochin Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Proudly.</i>] The great vicious Cocks, representatives of the corrupt +East, the putrescent Orient!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Intoxicated.</i>] Putrescent!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Unwholesome, morbid grace!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Cochin Cock</span>.] Charmed! Charmed!—Do notice his obscene eye!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing wildly, infected with the general delirium.</i>] Chili Cock, +curled hindside fore! Antwerp Cock, curled inside out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Hens</span><br> +[<i>Fighting for the newcomers.</i>] Oh, putrescent!—Oh, hindside fore!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Inside out!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Shankless Jumping-cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Fainting with emotion.</i>] I suppose he jumps with his stomach!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +An India-rubber Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>, <i>who from his wheelbarrow is looking off into the +distance.</i>] And Chantecler?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Will be here soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Can you see him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Yes, off there, scratching up the earth. Now he is on his way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Ghoondook Cock with Umbrella Topknot!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cry of Enthusiasm</span><br> +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Iberian Cock with Lint Side Whiskers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cry of Enthusiasm</span><br> +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Cock Bans Backin or Fat Cheek of Thuringia!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cry of Enthusiasm</span><br> +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +Yankee Cochin of Plymouth Rock!</p> + +<p>[<i>Sudden silence.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>has appeared at the entrance, just behind +the</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span> <i>last announced.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Magpie</span>.] Pray simply say, “The Cock!”</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fourth</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same, Chantecler</span>, <i>later</i> <span class="smcap">The Pigeons</span>, <i>and</i> +<span class="smcap">The Swan</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>After looking</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>up and down, disdainfully.</i>] The Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>From the threshold, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>.] Your pardon Madam,—my humble +duty!—for venturing to present myself in this plumage—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Come in, I pray!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I hardly know whether I should. I have a limited number of toes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Indulgently.</i>] Oh, never mind!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I cannot claim to be a Carpathian, and—I hardly know how to conceal it +from you—I have feet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Oh, let not that distress you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A plain red-pepper comb, an ordinary garlic clove ear—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Of course, of course, we will excuse you. You came in your business +suit!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Nay, my best! Pardon if my best combines merely the green of all April +with the gold of all October! I stand abashed. I am the Cock, just the +Cock, without further addition. The Cock such as he is still found in +some old-fashioned barnyard. A Cock shaped like a Cock, whose outline +persists in the vane on the steeple-top in the artist’s eye, and the +humble toy which a child’s hand finds among shavings in a little +wooden box.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Ironical Voice</span><br> +[<i>From among the group of gorgeous prodigies.</i>] The Gallic Cock, in +short?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Gently, without even turning.</i>] Sure as I am of my aboriginal claim to +this soil, I make no point of assuming the name. But, now you mention +it, I recognise that when one simply says the Cock, that is the Cock +he means!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Low to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] I have seen your adversary!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Catching sight of the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>approaching.</i>] Be still! She must +know nothing of this!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Coquettishly.</i>] Did you come for the sake of seeing me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bowing.</i>] I am weak, you remember!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Listening to the</i> <span class="smcap">Cochin-china Cock</span>, <i>who is talking in an undertone, +thickly surrounded by</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span>.] That Cock from Cochin China is +simply awful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning.</i>] Enough!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Hens</span><br> +[<i>Around the</i> <span class="smcap">Cochin Cock</span>, <i>giving little scandalised cries.</i>] Oh!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Tickled.</i>] Oh, you naughty bird!—He is quite the most improper of our +gallinacea!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Louder.</i>] Enough!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cochin-china Cock</span><br> +[<i>Stops, and with mocking surprise.</i>] Is it the Gallic Cock objecting?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am not Gallic if you give the word a base or ridiculous meaning. By +Jove! Every Hen here knows whether my trumpet blast belongs to a +soprano! But your perverse attempts to wring blushes from little +baggages in convenient corners outrage my love of Love! It is true that +I care more to retain love’s dream than these Cochin-Chinese, who, +courting a giggle, use refinement in coarseness, research in vulgarity; +true that my blood has swifter flow in a less ponderous body, and that I +am not a feathered pig,—but a Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Come, come away to the woods,—I love you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking around him.</i>] Oh, to see a real being appear! Someone simple, +someone—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing.</i>] Two Pigeons!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Drawing a breath of relief.</i>] At last,—pigeons! [<i>He runs eagerly to +the entrance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeons</span><br> +[<i>Entering with a series of somersaults.</i>] Hop!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Falling back in amazement.</i>] What is this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pigeons</span><br> +[<i>Introducing themselves between two springs.</i>] The Tumblers! English +Clowns!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Where am I ?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running after the</i> <span class="smcap">Tumblers</span> <i>who disappear among the throng of +guests.</i>] Hop! Hop!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Pigeons turning acrobats!—Oh, the joy of seeing something true, +something unblemished—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing.</i>] The Swan!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Coming forward delighted.</i>] Good! A Swan! [<i>Shrinking away.</i>] He is +black!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Black Swan</span><br> +[<i>With swaggering satisfaction.</i>] I have discarded the whiteness while +preserving the outline!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The real Swan’s shadow does no less! [<i>Thrusting the</i> <span class="smcap">Swan</span> <i>aside to hop +up on a bench whence, through a gap in the hedge, he can see the distant +meadows.</i>] Let me climb up on this bench. I need to make sure that +Nature still exists—though so far away! Ah, yes! The grass is green, a +cow is grazing, a calf sucking—And Heaven be praised, the calf has a +single head! [<i>Coming down again beside the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh, come away to the innocent woods, sincere and dewy, where we will +love each other!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Pointing at</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>who are standing +close and talking low.</i>] We are getting on!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Intensely interested.</i>] Do you think so? [<i>She spreads her wings to +screen them.</i>] Oh, I am so fond of helping along a clandestine +love affair!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Sticking his bill under the</i> <span class="smcap">Guinea-hen’s</span> <i>wing so as to keep the pair +in sight.</i>] I believe she has thoughts of annexing his comb.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] Come, dearest, come away!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Resisting.</i>] No, I must sing where Destiny placed me. I am useful +here, I am beloved—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Remembering what she overheard the night before in the farmyard.</i>] Are +you so sure?—Come away to the woods, where we shall hear real pigeons +cooing tenderly to each other!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +[<i>At the back.</i>] Ladies, the great Peacock—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Modestly.</i>] The Super-peacock—who supervenes, and supersedes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +Will spread his tail for us! He has expressed his amiable willingness so +far to favour us.</p> + +<p>[<i>The company falls into groups of spectators, the outlandish</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span> +<i>forming a wreath around their patron.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Preparing to spread his tail.</i>] I am, by precious natural gift, in +addition to my multifarious accomplishments something of a—shall I say +artist in firework?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Effervescently.</i>] Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +No. Pyrotechnist. For the choicest piece in urban gardens, where +Catharine-wheels on festival nights spurt sidereal spray, and rockets +shot into gold-riddled skies fall back in prismatic showers, is less +sapphirine, smaragdine, cuprine—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Zounds!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +—than, I venture to say, ladies, am I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh, I understood that last word!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +—when I unfurl the union of fan, jewel-case, and screen, upon which I +offer to the self-same sunbeams that redden the reed all the joyous gems +you now may contemplate!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What a silly bill!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span> <i>has spread his tail.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>.] Master, which of us will you make the fashion?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Padua Cock</span><br> +[<i>Quickly coming forward.</i>] Me! I look like a palm-tree!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A China Cock</span><br> +[<i>Pushing the</i> <span class="smcap">Padua Cock</span> <i>aside.</i>] I look like a pagoda!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Big Feather-footed Cock</span><br> +[<i>Pushing the</i> <span class="smcap">China Cock</span> <i>aside.</i>] Me! I have cauliflowers sprouting at +my heels!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Each is in one the show and Mr. Barnum!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Parading and filing past the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>.] See my beak! See my feet! See +my feathers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly shouting at them.</i>] Lo! While you hold your costume contest, +a Scarecrow gives you his blessing!</p> + +<p>[<i>Behind them, in fact, the wind has lifted the arms of the</i> <span class="smcap">Scarecrow</span>, +<i>which loosely wave above the pageant.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Starting back.</i>] What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Behold this dummy talking to that lay-figure! [<i>While the wind blows +through the flapping rags.</i>] What say the trousers, dancing their limp +fandango? They say, “We were once the fashion!” And, terror of the +titlark, what says the old hat which a beggar would none of? “I was the +fashion!” And the coat? “I was the fashion!” And the tattered sleeves, +that no one has care to mend, try to clasp the Wind, whom they take for +the Fashion, and drop back empty—The Wind has passed, the Wind is far!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>To the animals slightly dismayed by this address.</i>] You poor-spirited +creatures, that thing cannot talk!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Man says the same of us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>To the birds nearest to him.</i>] He is vexed because of those Cocks whom +I introduced. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>ironically.</i>] What, my dear sir, do you +say to these resplendent gentlemen?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I say, my dear sir, that these resplendent gentlemen are manufactured +wares, the work of merchants with highly complex brains, who to fashion +a ridiculous Chicken have taken a wing from that one, a topknot from +this. I say that in such Cocks nothing remains of the true Cock. They +are Cocks of shreds and patches, idle bric-a-brac, fit to figure in a +catalogue, not in a barnyard with its decent dunghill and its dog. I say +that those befrizzled, beruffled, bedeviled Cocks were never stroked and +cherished by Nature’s maternal hand. I say that it’s all Aviculture, and +Aviculture is flapdoodle! And I say that those preposterous parrots, +without style, without beauty, without form, whose bodies have not even +kept the pleasing oval of the egg they were hatched from, look like so +many desperate fowls escaped from some hen-coop of the Apocalypse!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +My dear sir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With rising spirit.</i>] And I add that the whole duty of a Cock is to be +an embodied crimson cry! And when a Cock is not that, it matters little +that his comb be shaped like a toadstool, or his quills twisted like a +screw, he will soon vanish and be heard of no more, having been nothing +but a variety of a variety!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +I protest—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Going from one to the other.</i>] Yes, Cocks affecting incongruous forms, +Cocks crowned with cocoa-palm coiffures—Hear me talk like the Peacock! +I lapse into alliteration! [<i>Finding his fun in bewildering them with +cackling guttural volubility.</i>] Yes, Cockerels cockaded with cockles, +Cockatrice-headed Cockasters, cock-eyed Cockatoos! Not content to be +common Cocks, your crotchet it was to be what but crack Cocks? Yes, +Fashion, to be accounted of thy flock, these chuckle-headed Cocks craved +to be Super-cocks. But know ye not, ye crazy Cocks, one cannot be so +queer a Cock, but there may occur a queerer Cock? Let some Cock come +whose coccyx boasts a more flamboyant shock, and you pass like childish +measles, croup or chicken-pox! Consider that to-morrow, high +Cockalorums, fancy Cocks, consider that day after to-morrow, +cheese-capped goblet-crested Cocks, in spite of curly hackle and +cauliflowered hocks, a more fantastic Cock than ever may creep out of +a—box! For the Cock-fancier, to diversify his stock, may more +fantastically still combine his Cutcutdaycuts and his Cocks, and you +will be no more—sad Cuckoos made a mock!—but old rococo Cocks beside +this more coquettish Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +And how, may one learn from you, can a Cock secure himself against +becoming rococo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +One royal way there is: to think only of crowing like a right and proper +Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +[<i>Haughtily.</i>] We are well known, I beg to state, for our exceptionally +fine crowing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Known to whom?</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fifth</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same</span>, <i>three</i> <span class="smcap">Chickens</span>, <i>noticeable among the rest for a certain +jaunty pertness of gait and demeanour, who for a minute or so have been +moving among the artificial</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +To us, of course!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +To us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +To us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All Three</span><br> +[<i>Bowing at once.</i>] Good morning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +Your voice?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +Tenor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +Bass?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +Robusto?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +Di cortesia?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bewildered, looking toward the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] What is this? An +interlude?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +An interview.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +Do you take it in your chest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +Or in your head?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Do I take what?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +Pray talk without reserve. We represent the Board of Investigation into +the Gallodoodle Movement.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That’s all very well, but I —[<i>Attempting to pass.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +You will find it difficult, I think, to leave, until you have answered +such questions as we are pleased to ask. Is your early meal a light one?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +You have tendencies, no doubt—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Hosts.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +What do you feel most particularly drawn to?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Hens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +[<i>Without smiling.</i>] Have you nothing to communicate with regard to your +song?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I just sing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +And when you sing—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The heavens hear me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +Have you a special method?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +You live—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +To sing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +And your song—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Is my life!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +But how do you sing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I take pains.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +But do you scan [<i>Beating furiously with his wing.</i>] one-one-two +One-three? Three-one? Or four? What is your dynamic theory?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Shouting.</i>] Who has not his little pet dynamic theory?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Dyna—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +Where do you place the accent? On the Cock—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +On the Doo?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +On the—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +[<i>Impatiently.</i>] What is your school?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Schools of Cocks?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +[<i>Rapidly.</i>] Certainly. Some sing Cock-a-doodle-doo, and some +Keek-a-deedle-dee!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Cock—? Keek—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +Not to speak of those who—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +[<i>Coming forward.</i>] The correct and proper way to crow is +Cowkerdowdledow!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What Cock is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +An Anglo-Indian.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Chicken</span><br> +And the Turk over there, whose comb suggests a cyst, crows +Coocooroocoocoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Chicken</span><br> +[<i>Shouting in his ear.</i>] Do you not upon occasions vary your +Cockadoodledoo with Cackadaddledaa?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Cock</span><br> +[<i>Springing up at the right.</i>] I for one, entirely suppress the vowels: +<span class="smcap">C</span>ck-d-dl-d!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Trying to get away.</i>] Is it a Welsh Rabbit dream?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Cock</span><br> +[<i>Springing up at the left.</i>] O a-oo-e-oo! Have you ever tried +suppressing the consonants?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Cock</span><br> +[<i>Pushing aside all the others.</i>] I mix the whole thing +up—Cuck-o-deedle-daa!—in a free and supple song!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +My brain reels!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Cocks</span><br> +[<i>Gathered about him, fighting.</i>] No! Cuckodee—No, Cackadaa—No, +Coocooroo—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cock</span><br> +[<i>Who mixes all up.</i>] The free Cockadoodle! The free crow is obligatory!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Pray, who is that, speaking with such authority?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Chicken</span><br> +It is a wonderful Cock who has never sung at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In humble despair.</i>] And I am only a Cock who sings!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Everybody</span><br> +[<i>Drawing away from him in disgust.</i>] I wouldn’t mention it if I were +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I give my song as the rose-tree gives its Rose!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +[<i>Sarcastically.</i>] Ah, I was waiting for the Rose! [<i>Pitying laughter.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Low, nervously, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Is my prospective slayer going to +keep me waiting much longer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Everyone</span><br> +[<i>Disgusted.</i>] The Rose? Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +If you must mention flowers, let them be rather less—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Peacock</span><br> +Elementary. [<i>With the most disdainful impertinence.</i>] So you are still +at the declension of <i>Rosa?</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am, you—Peacock! You, I suppose, may be forgiven for speaking +slightingly of the Rose, being a rival candidate for the beauty prize. +[<i>Looking around him.</i>] But I summon these Cocks, from Dorking to +Bantam, to defend with me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +[<i>Nonchalantly.</i>] Pray whom?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The Rose, <i>Rosam;</i> to declare on the spot and forthwith—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Ironically.</i>] You set yourself up as the champion—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +<i>Rosarum,</i> of roses, I do!—To declare that worship +is due—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cock</span><br> +To whom, pray?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +To roses, <i>rosis!</i>—in whose hearts sleep rain-drops like essences in +fragrant vials, to declare that they are, and ever will be—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>Cold and cutting.</i>] Painted jades, things of naught! [<i>All the fancy</i> +<span class="smcap">Cocks</span> <i>draw aside, revealing the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile Game Cock</span>, <i>who appears, +tall and lean and sinister at the further end of their double row.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +At last!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +It’s time to climb up on the chairs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span>.] Sir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are never going to challenge that giant?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am! To appear tall it is sufficient to talk on stilts! [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Game</span> +<span class="smcap">Cock</span>, <i>slowly crossing the stage toward him.</i>] Know that such a remark +is not to be endured, and permit me to tell you—[<i>Finding a</i> <span class="smcap">Chick</span> +<i>between himself and the</i> <span class="smcap">Game Cock</span>, <i>he gently puts him aside, saying</i>] +Run to your mother, tot! [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span>, <i>looking insolently at +his docked comb</i>]—that you look like a Fool who has mislaid +his coxcomb!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Astonished.</i>] Fool? Coxcomb? What? What? What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Beak to beak with the</i> <span class="smcap">Game Cock</span>.] What? What? What? [<i>A pause. They +arch themselves, with bristling neck-hackle.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Emphatically.</i>] In America, during my grand tour, I killed three +Claybornes in a day. I have killed two Sherwoods, three Smoks, and one +Sumatra. I have killed—let me advise anyone fighting me to take +something beforehand to keep down his pulse!—three Red-game at +Cambridge and ten Braekels at Bruges!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Very simply.</i>] I my dear sir, have never killed anything. But as I +have at different times succored, defended, protected, this one and +that, I might perhaps be called, in my own fashion, brave. You need not +take these mighty airs with me. I came here knowing that you would come. +That rose was dangled to afford you the opportunity for brutal +stupidity. You did not fail to nibble at its petals. Your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Game Cock</span><br> +White Pile. And yours?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Chantecler.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running desperately to the</i> <span class="smcap">Dog</span>.] Patou!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>, <i>who is growling between his teeth.</i>] You, keep out of +this!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +So I will, but it’s rrrrrrrough!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] A Cock does not risk his life for a Rose!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A slur upon a flower is a slur upon the Sun!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] Do something! This must be patched up—You +know you had promised me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Everything can be patched up, my dear, except the quarrels of a fellow’s +friends!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Giving loud cries of despair.</i>] Horrible! Oh, horrible A five-o’clock +tea at which guests kill each other! How dreadful—[<i>To her son.</i>] that +the Tortoise should not have got here yet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>Crying.</i>] Chantecler, ten against one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Seating her company, assisting the</i> <span class="smcap">Hens</span> <i>to climb upon flower-pots, +cold-frames, pumpkins.</i>] Quick! quick!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Our charming hostess is in great feather, doing the honours of an affair +of honour.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] Go in and thrash him. This crowd is longing for the +sight of your blood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Sadly.</i>] I was never anything but kind!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Showing the ring which has formed, the faces lighted with hateful +eagerness.</i>] Look at them! [<i>All necks are craned, all eyes shine; it is +hideous.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>looks, understands, and bows his head.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>With a cry of rage.</i>] It’s a disgrace! A disgrace to the name of fowl!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Raising his head again.</i>] So be it. But they shall at least learn +to-day who I was, and my secret—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +No, don’t tell them, if it’s what my old dreamer’s heart has +apprehended!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Addressing the multitude, in a loud voice, solemnly, like one +confessing his faith.</i>] Know, all of you, that it is I —[<i>Deep silence +falls. To the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span>, <i>who has given a sign of impatience.</i>] Your +pardon, excellent duellist, but I have a mind, before getting myself +killed, to do something brave—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Surprised.</i>] Ah?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Yes,—get myself laughed at!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +No, dearest, no! Don’t do it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I wish to perish amid salvos of laughter! [<i>To the crowd.</i>] Riot, spirit +of Mockery! Disciples of the Blackbird, prepare! [<i>In a still louder +voice, hammering home every word.</i>] It is I who, by my song, bring back +the light of day! [<i>Amazement, then vast laughter shakes the +multitude.</i>] Is the merriment well under way? On guard!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Golden Padua Cock</span><br> +[<i>Nodding his plume.</i>] Gentlemen, engage!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voices</span><br> +[<i>Amid storms of laughter.</i>] Funny! Side-splitting! Was anything ever so +droll? I shall die laughing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +The old Gallic love of a joke is not dead!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chicken</span><br> +He sings light into the sky!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Duck</span><br> +The Sun gets up to hear him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Avoiding the blows which the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span> <i>is beginning to aim at +him.</i>] Yes, it is I who give you back the Day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chick</span><br> +And a jolly fine day it is!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>While parrying and attacking.</i>] The crowing of other Cocks, able +neither to make nor mar, is no better nor worse than sonorous sneezing! +Mine—[<i>He is wounded.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +Biff! In the neck!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—mine makes—[<i>He is again wounded.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Turkey</span><br> +Insufferable self-sufficiency!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—the light—[<i>Again he is struck.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +Biff! On the neb!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—the light appear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +Biff! In the eye!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Blinded with blood.</i>] Yes, the light!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>Sneering.</i>] Better have let sleeping darkness lie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Automatically repeating beneath his adversary’s blows.</i>] It is I who +make the dawn appear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Barking.</i>] Aye! Aye! Aye!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Sobbing.</i>] Stand up to him, darling! Oh, hit back! Hit back!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chick</span><br> +Fellows, a nickname for the dawn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +Yes! Yes!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span> <i>hurls himself upon</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh, cruel!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Chantecler’s Light o’ Love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +A nickname for the Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +Yes! Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Grand Master of Illuminations!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice</span><br> +Purveyor of Sunny Beams!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Defending himself foot to foot.</i>] Thanks! Another quip, for I can +still fight with my feet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +The Alarm-Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Who seems upheld by their insults.</i>] Another pun! And I who know no +more of fighting than can be learned on a peaceful farm—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +Thresh out his hayseed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Thanks! I —[<i>His torn feathers fly around him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cry of Joy</span><br> +See his fur fly!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I feel—Another pleasantry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +Lay on, Macfluff!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Thanks! I feel that the more I am mocked, insulted, flouted, and +denied—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">An Ass</span><br> +[<i>Stretching his neck over the hedge.</i>] Hee-haw!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Thanks!—the better I shall fight!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Chuckling.</i>] He is game, but he’s giving out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Enough. Enough. Oh, stop!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +On White Pile, twenty to one!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Seeing</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler’s</span> <i>bleeding neck.</i>] He bleeds, oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Rising on tiptoe behind the</i> <span class="smcap">Golden Padua Cock</span>.] I should like to see +the blood!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Increasing the fury of his onset.</i>] I ll have your gizzard!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Hen</span><br> +[<i>Trying to see.</i>] The Padua Cock’s hat shuts off my view!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Hats off!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +That was a stinger! On his comb!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Shrill Cries</span><br> +[<i>From the crowd.</i>] Land him one! Do him up! Lay him out! Have his gore!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Standing up in his wheelbarrow.</i>] Will you stop behaving like human +beings?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cries</span><br> +[<i>Furiously keeping time with the blows showering upon</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] In +the neck! On the nut! On the wing! On the—[<i>Sudden silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Amazed.</i>] What is this? The ring breaks up, the shouting dies—[<i>He +looks around. The</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span> <i>has drawn away and backed against the +hedge. A strange commotion agitates the crowd.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>exhausted, +bleeding, tottering, does not understand, and murmurs.</i>] What joke are +they preparing against my end? [<i>And suddenly.</i>] Joy, Patou, joy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I have done them an injustice. All of them, ceasing to insult and mock +me, look, gather round me, closer and closer—look!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Seeing them all, in fact, crowding around</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>and gazing +anxiously at the sky, looks up too, and says simply.</i>] It is the hawk!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah! [<i>A dark shadow slowly sweeps over the motley crowd, who crouch and +cower.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +When that great shadow falls, it is not the fine, strange Cocks we trust +to keep off the bird of prey!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly grown great of size, his wounds forgotten, stands in the +midst of them, and in an authoritative tone.</i>] Yes, close around me, all +of you, all! [<i>All, huddled in their feathers, their heads drawn in +between their wings, press against him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Dear, brave, and gentle heart!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>The shadow sweeps over the crowd a second time. The</i> <span class="smcap">Game Cock</span> <i>makes +himself small.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>alone remains standing, in the midst of a +heap of ruffled, trembling feathers.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking up at the</i> <span class="smcap">Hawk</span>.] Twice the black shadow has swept over us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Calling to the</i> <span class="smcap">Chicks</span>, <i>who come madly running.</i>] Chicks, come here +to me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You take them under your wing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I must. Their mother is a box!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking upward.</i>] He hovers over us—[<i>The shadow of the</i> <span class="smcap">Hawk</span>, +<i>circling lower and lower, passes for the third time, darker +than ever.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>In a moan of fear.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Shouting toward the sky.</i>] I am here!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +He has heard your trumpet cry!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +He flies further.</p> + +<p>[<i>All rise with a joyous cry of deliverance, “Ah!” and go back to their +places to watch the end of the combat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +Without loss of a moment they form the ring again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a start.</i>] What did you say? [<i>He looks. It is true, the ring has +immediately formed.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Now they want you killed to be revenged for their fine scare.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But now I shall not be killed! I felt my strength come back when the +common enemy flew across the sky. [<i>Striding boldly up to the</i> <span class="smcap">White</span> +<span class="smcap">Pile</span>.] I got back my courage, fearing for the others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Amazed at being smartly attacked.</i>] Whence has he drawn new strength?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am thrice stronger now than you. Black excites me, you see, as red +excites the bull, and thrice I have stared at night in the form of a +bird’s shadow!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Driven to bay, against the hedge, prepares to use his razors.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Screaming.</i>] Look out! He has two sharp razors at his heels, the +beast!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I knew it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Cat</span><br> +[<i>From his tree, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Game Cock</span>.] Use your knives!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Ready to spring from his wheelbarrow.</i>] If he uses those, I ll +strangle him, that’s all!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Crowd</span><br> +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I will! Howl you never so loud!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Feeling himself lost.</i>] No help for it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Closely watching him.</i>] He is getting one of his razors ready!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The White Pile</span><br> +[<i>Striking with his sharp spur.</i>] Take that! Die! [<i>He utters a terrible +cry, while</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>avoiding the blow, springs aside.</i>] Ah! [<i>He +drops to the ground. Cry of amazement.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Several Voices</span><br> +What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Who has hopped up to the fallen</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span> <i>and examined him.</i>] Nothing! +Merely he has dexterously slashed his left claw with his right!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Crowd</span><br> +[<i>Following and hooting the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span>, <i>who, having picked himself up, +limps off.</i>] Hoo! Hoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span> <i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> +[<i>Laughing and weeping and talking, all in one, beside</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, +<i>who stands motionless, utterly spent, with closed eyes.</i>] Chantecler! +It is we! The Pheasant-hen! The Dog! Speak to us, speak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Opening his eyes, looks at them and says gently.</i>] The day will rise +to-morrow!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Sixth</span></h3></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same</span>, <i>except the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Crowd</span><br> +[<i>After seeing the</i> <span class="smcap">White Pile</span> <i>off, return tumultuously to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, +<i>hailing him with acclamations.</i>] Hurrah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Drawing away from them, in a terrible voice.</i>] Stand back! I know your +worth! [<i>The crowd hastily draws back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Close by his side.</i>] Come away to the woods, where true-hearted +animals live!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No, I will stay here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +After finding them out?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +After finding them out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You will stay here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Not for their sakes, but the sake of my song. It might spring forth less +clear from any other soil! But now, to inform the Day that it is sure to +be called tomorrow I will sing! [<i>Obsequious movement of the crowd, +attempting to approach.</i>] Back! All of you! I have nothing left but my +song! [<span class="smcap">All</span> <i>draw away, and alone in his pride, he begins.</i>] Co—[<i>To +himself, stiffening himself against pain.</i>] Nothing left but my song, +therefore let us sing well! [<i>He tries again.</i>] Co—Now, I wonder, +shall I take it as a chest-note, or—Co—a head-note? Shall I count +one-three, or—Co—And the accent? Since they filled my head with all +that sort of thing, I Coocooroo—Keekee-ree—And the theory? The +dynamic theory? Cock-a—I am all tangled up in schools and rules and +rubbish! If he reduced his flight to a theory, what eagle would ever +soar? Co—[<i>Trying again, and ending in a raucous, abortive crow.</i>] +Co—I cannot sing any more, I whose method was not to know how, but be +quite certain why! [<i>In a cry, of despair.</i>] I have nothing left! They +have taken everything from me, my song and everything else. How shall I +get it back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Opening her wings.</i>] Come away to the woods!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Falling upon her breast.</i>] I love you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +To the woods, where the simple birds sing their sweet unconscious songs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Let us go! [<i>Both go toward the back.</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>turning.</i>] But there +is one thing I wish to say—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Trying to lead him away.</i>] Come to the woods!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—to all the Guineahennery gathered beneath these arbors. Let the +garden—the Bees agree with me, I fancy!—let the garden work untroubled +at changing its blossoms into fruit—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buzzing of Bees</span><br> +<i>We agree—ee—ee</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Nothing good is ever accomplished in the midst of noise. Noise prevents +the bough—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buzzing</span><br> +[<i>Further off.</i>] +<i>So say we—e—e! we—e—e</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—from bringing its apple to perfection, prevents the grape—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Buzzing</span><br> +[<i>Dying away among the foliage.</i>] <i>So say we—e—e</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—from ripening on the vine. [<i>Going toward the back with the</i> +<span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Let us go! [<i>Turning and coming again angrily toward +the front.</i>] But I wish furthermore to say to these <span class="smcap">H</span>—[<i>The</i> +<span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>lays her wing across his beak.</i>]—ens that those +unnatural Cocks will lightly take themselves away, back to the gilded +mangers of their sole affection, the moment they hear the cry of +Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick! [<i>Imitating a servant girl calling</i> +<span class="smcap">Chickens</span> <i>to feed.</i>] For all those charlatans are stalking appetites, +and nothing more!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Trying to lead him off.</i>] Come! Come!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +She is eloping with him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am coming! But—[<i>Coming forward again.</i>] I must first say to this +Peacock, in the presence of that Addlepate—[<i>Indicating the</i> +<span class="smcap">Guinea-hen</span>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +He insults me in my own house. Sensational!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +False hero whom Fashion has taken for leader, you walk in such terror of +appearing behindhand to the eyes of your own tail that your throat is +blue with it! But, urged forward, on and on, by every staring eye upon +it, you will fall at last, breathless for good and all, and end in the +false immortality bestowed, false artist, by the—[<i>Imitating the manner +of the</i> <span class="smcap">Peacock</span>.] shall I say bird-stuffer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Mechanically.</i>] Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No. Taxidermist,—to use the word you would prefer. That, my dear +Peacock, is what I wished to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Bang!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning toward him.</i>] As for you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +Fire away!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I will! You became acquainted one grey morning with a city sparrow, did +you not tell us so? That was your ruin. You have been possessed ever +since with the desire to appear like one yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +From that hour, unresting, acting the sparrow night and day, the sparrow +even in sleep, self-condemned to play the sparrow without respite, you +have appeared—famous jay!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Pathetic effort of a country birdkin, twisting his thick bill to talk +with a city accent! Ah, you wish to bite off bits of slang? My friend, +they are green! Every grape you pick breaks in your jaws, for city +grapes are glass bubbles! Having taken from the sparrow only his make-up +and grimace, you are just a clumsy understudy, a sort of vice-buffoon! +And you serve up stale old cynicisms picked up with crumbs in +fashionable club-rooms, poor little bird, and think to astonish us with +your budget of scandalous news—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I have not exhausted my ammunition! You wish to imitate the sparrow? But +the sparrow does not, slyly and meanly mischievous, make a cult of +sprightliness is not funny with authority, is not the pedant of +flippancy! You percher among low bushes, who never care to fly, you wish +to imitate—[<i>Turning to one of the exotic</i> <span class="smcap">Cocks</span> <i>cackling behind +him.</i>] Silence, Cock of Japan! or I shall spoil a picture!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Japanese Cock</span><br> +[<i>Hurriedly.</i>] I beg your pardon!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Continuing to the</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] You wish to imitate the sparrow, who, +rising on light wing, underlines his words with a telegraph wire! Very +well, I hate to grieve you, but—you know I can hear the sparrows when +they come to steal my corn!—you are not in it, you do not pull it off. +Your lingo is a fake!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +A —?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And your performance is a shine!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +He can talk slang?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I can talk anything!—It’s the Paris article made in Germany!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Fire away, I think you said. I hope you don’t mind my air-gun?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The Grand Master of Illuminations is entirely at your service. What do +you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Hastily.</i>] Nothing! [<i>He tries to get away.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You wish to ape the sparrow of city streets! But his impudence is not a +manner of prudence, an art of remaining vague, an elegant method of +having no opinion. His eyes always express either wrath or delight. Do +you care to know the secret by which the little beggar, with his +“Chappie” and his “See” can steal away our hearts? It is that he is +frank and fearless that he believes, that he loves, that the railings of +a balcony where some child strews crumbs for him are the only cage he +ever knew! It is that one can be sure of his gaiety of soul, since he is +gay when he is hungry! But you who, void of gaiety because void of love, +have imagined that evil wit can take the place of good humour, and that +one can play the sparrow when he is a sleek and vulgar trimmer, +sniggering behind his wing, what I say to you is, “Guess again, +Mock-sparrow, guess again!”</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Always applauding everything that is said at her receptions.</i>] Good! +That was extremely good!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Chicken</span><br> +[<i>To the crestfallen</i> <span class="smcap">Blackbird</span>.] You will make him smart for this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Blackbird</span><br> +[<i>Prudently.</i>] No. I will take it out on the Turkey. [<i>At this point a</i> +<span class="smcap">Voice</span> <i>calls, “Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick!” and all the</i> <span class="smcap">Fancy Cocks</span>, +<i>rushing toward the irresistible call to food, hurry out, tumbling over +one another in their haste.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running after them.</i>] Are you going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Padua Cock</span><br> +[<i>The last to leave.</i>] I beg to be excused! [<i>Disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>In the midst of the hubbub.</i>] Are you going? Must you go? Oh, don’t go +yet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Come, my golden Pheasant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] Are you running away?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +To save my song!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>Running to the</i> <span class="smcap">Young Guinea-cock</span>.] My son, I am in such a state—I am +in such—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Hen</span><br> +[<i>Calling after</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] And when shall we see you again?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Before going.</i>] When you have grown teeth! [<i>Off with the</i> +<span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Guinea-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Young Guinea-cock</span>.] This has been quite the finest affair of +the season! [<i>Darting madly about among the departing guests.</i>] Au +revoir! Mondays in August! Don’t forget!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magpie</span><br> +[<i>Announcing.</i>] The Tortoise!</p> + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> +<h2><span class="smcap">Act Fourth</span><br> + +<span class="small"><span class="smcap">The Night of the Nightingale</span></span></h2> +</div> +<p class="center"><i>In the Forest. Evening. Huge trees with thick gnarled roots. At the +base of one of the trees, Time or a lightning stroke has hollowed a sort +of chamber. Rising slopes carpeted with heather. Rabbit holes. Mosses. +Toadstools. Stretched between two ferns, a great cobweb, spangled with +water-drops. At the rise of the curtain</i>, <span class="smcap">Rabbits</span> <i>are discovered on +every side among the underbrush, peacefully inhaling the evening air. A +time of serene silence and coolness.</i></p> + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene First</span></h3> +</div> +<p><i>A </i> <span class="smcap">Rabbit</span> <i>in front of his burrow</i>, <span class="smcap">Choir of Unseen Birds</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A Rabbit</span><br> +It is the hour when with sweet and solemn voices the two warblers, +Black-cap of the Gardens, and Red-wing of the Woods, intone the +evening prayer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>Among the branches.</i>] O God of Birds!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O God of Birds! or, rather, for the Hawk</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has surely not the same God as the Wren,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O God of Little Birds!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Thousand Voices</span><br> +[<i>Among the leaves.</i>] O God of Little Birds!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who breathed into our wings to make us light,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And painted them with colours of His sky,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All thanks for this fair day, for meat and drink—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sweet sky-born water caught in cups of stone,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sweet hedgerow berries washed of dust with dew,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And thanks for these good little eyes of ours</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That spy the unseen enemies of man,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And thanks for the good tools by Thee bestowed</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To aid our work of little gardeners,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Trowels and pruning-hooks of living horn.</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Second Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To-morrow we will fight borer and blight,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Forgive Thy birds to-night their trespasses,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The stripping of a currant-bush or two!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The First Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Breathe on our bright round eyes and over them</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The triple curtain of the lids will close.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If Man, the unjust, pay us by casting stones,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For filling field and wood and eaves with song,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For battling with the weevil for his bread,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If he lime twigs for us, if he spread snares,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Call to our memory Thy gentle Saint,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy good Saint Francis, that we may forgive</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The cruelty of men because a man</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Once called us brothers, “My brothers, the birds!”</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Second Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Saint Francis of Assisi—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Thousand Voices</span><br> +[<i>Among the leaves.</i>] Pray for us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Confessor of the mavis—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Voices</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pray for us!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Preacher to the swallows—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Voices</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pray for us!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O tender dreamer of a generous dream,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who didst believe so surely in our soul</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That, ever since, our soul, and ever more,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Affirms, defines itself—</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Voices</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Remember us!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The First Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And by the favour of thy prayers obtain</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The needful daily sup and crumb! Amen.</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Second Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Amen!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Voices</span><br> +[<i>In a murmur spreading to the uttermost ends of the forest.</i>] Amen!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Who, having a moment before stepped from the hollow tree, has stood +listening.</i>] Amen!</p> + +<p>[<i>The shade has deepened and taken a bluer tinge. The spiderweb, touched +by a moonbeam, looks as if sifting silver dust. The</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>comes +from the tree and follows</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>with little short +feminine steps.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Second</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>from time to time the</i> <span class="smcap">Rabbits</span>, <i>now +and then the</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +How softly sleeps the moonlight on the ferns! Now is the time—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Little Quavering Voice</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Spider at night,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bodeth delight!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Thanks, kind Spider!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Now is the time—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Close behind him.</i>] Now is the time to kiss me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +All those Rabbits looking on make it a trifle—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly flaps her wings; the frightened</i> <span class="smcap">Rabbits</span> <i>start, on all sides +white tails disappear into rabbit-holes. The</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>coming back +to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] There! [<i>They bill.</i>] Do you love my forest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I love it, for no sooner had I crossed its verdant border than I got +back my song. Let us go to roost. I must sing very early to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Imperiously.</i>] But one song only!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +For a month I have only allowed you one song.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Resignedly.</i>] Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And has the Sun not risen just the same?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a tone of unwilling admission.</i>] The Sun has risen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You see that one can have the Dawn at a smaller cost. Is the sky any +less red for your only crowing once?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Well then? [<i>Offering her bill.</i>] A kiss! [<i>Finding his kiss +absent-minded.</i>] You are thinking of something else. Please attend! +[<i>Reverting to her idea.</i>] Why should you wear yourself out? You were +simply squandering the precious copper of your voice. Daylight is all +very well, but one must live! Oh! the male creature! If we were not +there, with what sad frequency he would be fooled!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With conviction.</i>] Yes, but you are there, you see.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +It is barbarous anyhow to keep up a perpetual cockaduddling when I am +trying to sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Gently correcting her.</i>] Doodling, dearest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Duddling is correct.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Doodling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Raising her head toward the top of the tree and calling.</i>] Mr. +Woodpecker! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] We will ask the learned gentleman in the +green coat. [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span> <i>the upper half of whose figure appears +at a round hole high up in the tree trunk; his coat is green, his +waistcoat buff, and he wears a red skull-cap.</i>] Do you say cockaduddling +or cockadoodling?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Bending a long professorial bill.</i>] Both.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> +[<i>Turning to each other, triumphantly.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +Duddling is more tender, doodling more poetic. [<i>He disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +It is for you I cockaduddle!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Yes, but you cockadoodle for the Dawn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Going toward her.</i>] I do believe you are jealous!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Retreating coquettishly.</i>] Do you love me more than her?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a cry of warning.</i>] Be careful, a snare!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Jumping aside.</i>] Ready to spring! [<i>Dimly visible against a tree, is, +in fact, a spread bird-net.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Examining it.</i>] A dangerous contrivance.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Forbidden by the game-laws of 44.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Laughing.</i>] Do you know that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You seem to forget that the object of your affections comes under the +head of game.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a touch of sadness.</i>] It is true that we are of different kinds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Returning to his side with a hop.</i>] I want you to love me more than +her. Say it’s me you love most. Say it’s me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Reappearing.</i>] I !</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking up.</i>] Not in a love-scene.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span>.] See here,—you! Be so kind another time as to +knock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Disappearing.</i>] Certainly. Certainly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] He has a bad habit of thrusting his bill between the +bark and the tree, but he is a rare scholar, exceptionally well +informed—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Absent-mindedly.</i>] On what subjects?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The language of birds.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Indeed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +For, you know, the birds when they say their prayers speak the common +language, but when they chat together in private they use a twittering +dialect, wholly onomatopoetic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +They talk Japanese. [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span> <i>knocks three times with his bill +on the tree: Rat-tat-tat!</i>] Come in!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Appearing, indignant.</i>] Japanese, did you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Yes. Some of them say, Tio! Tio! and others say Tzoui! Tzoui!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +Birds have talked Greek ever since Aristophanes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Rushing to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Oh, for the love of Greek! [<i>They +bill.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +Know, profane youth, that the Black-chat’s cry Ouis-ouis-tra-tra, is a +corruption of the word Lysistrata! [<i>Disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] Will you never love anyone but me?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">The Woodpecker’s</span> <i>knock is heard: Rat-tat-tat.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Come in!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] Do you promise?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Appears, soberly nodding his red cap.</i>] Tiri-para! sings the small +sedge-warbler to the reeds. Incontrovertibly from the Greek. <i>Para,</i> +along, and the word water is understood. [<i>Disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +He has Greek on the brain!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Reverting to her idea.</i>] Am I the whole, whole world to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Of course you are, only—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +In my green-sleeved Oriental robe, I look to you—how do I look?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Like a living commandment ever to worship that which comes from the +East.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Exasperated.</i>] Will you stop thinking of the light of day, and think +only of the light in my eyes?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I shall never forget, however, that there was a morning when we believed +equally in my Destiny, and that in the radiant hour of dawning love you +forgot, and allowed me to forget, your gold for the gold of the Dawn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The Dawn! Always the Dawn! Be careful, Chantecler I shall do something +rash! [<i>Going toward the Back.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You will infallibly do as you like.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +In the glade not long ago I met the—[<i>She catches herself and stops +short, intentionally.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looks at her, and in an angry cry.</i>] The Pheasant? [<i>With sudden +violence.</i>] Promise me that you will never again go to the glade!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Assured of her power over him, with a bound returns to his side.</i>] And +you, promise that you will love me more than the Light!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Sorrowfully.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +That you will not sing—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +More than one song, we have settled that point. [<i>Rat-tat-tat, from the</i> +<span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span>.] Come in!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Appearing and pointing with his bill at the net.</i>] The snare! The +farmer placed it there. He declared he would capture the Pheasant-hen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +He flatters himself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +And that he would keep you on his farm.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Indignant.</i>] Alive? [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>in a tone of reproach.</i>] Your +farm!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Seeing a</i> <span class="smcap">Rabbit</span> <i>who has returned to the edge of his hole.</i>] Ah, +there comes a Rabbit!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Rabbit</span><br> +[<i>Showing the snare to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] You know if you put your foot +on that spring—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a tone of superiority.</i>] I know all about snares, my little man. If +you put your foot on that spring, the thing shuts. I am afraid of +nothing but dogs. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] On your farm, which you secretly +yearn for.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a voice of injured innocence.</i>] I ?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Rabbit</span>, <i>giving him a light tap with her wing to send him +home.</i>] Afraid of nothing but dogs. And since you put me in mind of it, +I think I must go and perplex their noses, by tangling my tracks all +among the grass and underwoods.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That’s it, you go and fool the dogs!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Starts of, then returns.</i>] You are homesick for that wretched old farm +of yours?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +<span class="smcap">I? I</span>? [<i>She goes off. He repeats indignantly.</i>] I ? [<i>Watching her out of +sight, then, dropping his voice, to the</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span>.] She is not coming +back, is she?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Who from his high window in the tree can look off.</i>] No.</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Third</span></h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler, the Woodpecker</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Eagerly.</i>] Keep watch! They are going to talk with me from home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Interested.</i>] Who?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The Blackbird.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +I thought he hated you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +He came near it, but the Blackbird cast of mind admits of compromise, +and it amuses him to keep me informed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +Is he coming?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Who is a different bird since the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen’s</span> <i>exit, +light-hearted, boyishly cheerful.</i>] No, but the blue morning-glory +opening in his cage amid the wistaria, communicates by subterranean +filaments with this white convolvulus trembling above the pool. [<i>Going +to the convolvulus.</i>] So that by talking into its chalice—[<i>He plunges +his bill into one of the trembling milky trumpets.</i>] Hello!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Nodding to himself.</i>] From the Greek, <i>allos</i>, another. +He talks with another.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Hello! The Blackbird, please!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Keeping watch.</i>] Most imprudent, this is! To choose among the +convolvuli exactly the one which—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Lighter and lighter of mood, returning to the</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span>.] But it’s +the only one open all night! When the Blackbird answers, the Bee who +sleeps in the flower wakes up and we—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Bee</span><br> +[<i>Inside the convolvulus.</i>] Vrrrrrrrrr!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Briskly running to the flower and listening at the horn-shaped +receiver.</i>] Ah? This morning, did you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Filled with curiosity.</i>] What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a voice of sudden emotion.</i>] Thirty chicks have been +born! [<i>Listening again.</i>] Briffaut, the hunting-dog, is ill? +[<i>As if something interfered with his hearing.</i>] I believe it +is the Dragon-flies, deafening us with the crackling of their +wings—[<i>Shouting.</i>] Will you be so kind, young ladies, as not to cut +us off? [<i>Listening.</i>] And big Julius obliges Patou to go with him on +his hunting expeditions? [<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span>.] Ah, you ought to know +my friend Patou! [<i>Burying his bill again in the flower.</i>] So? Without +me everything goes wrong? Yes! [<i>With satisfaction.</i>] Yes! Waste and +carelessness naturally!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Who has been keeping watch, warns him suddenly under breath.</i>] Here +she comes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With his bill in the flower.</i>] Indeed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Fluttering desperately.</i>] Hush!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The Ducks spent the night under the cart, did they?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +Pst!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fourth</span></h3></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same, the Pheasant-hen</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Who has come upon the scene, with a threatening gesture at the</i> +<span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span>.] Go inside! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Wood Pecker</span> <i>precipitately disappears. +She stands listening to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In the convolvulus, more and more deeply interested.</i>] You don’t mean +it! What, all of them?—Yes?—No—Oh!—Well, well!—Is that so?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Who has timidly come back, aside.</i>] Oh, that an ant of the heaviest +might weigh down his tongue!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Talking into the flower.</i>] So soon? The Peacock out of fashion?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Trying to get</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler’s</span> <i>attention behind the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen’s</span> +<i>back.</i>] Pst!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Turning around, furious.</i>] You!—You had better! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span> +<i>alertly retires, bumping his head.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In the flower.</i>] An elderly Cock?—I hope that the Hens—? [<i>With +intonations more and more expressive of relief.</i>] Ah, that’s right! +that’s right! that’s right! [<i>He ends, with evident lightening of the +heart.</i>] A father! [<i>As if answering a question.</i>] Do I sing? Yes, but +far away from here, at the water-side.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a tinge of bitterness.</i>] Golden Pheasants will not long allow one +to purchase glory by too strenuous an effort, and so I go off by myself, +and work at the Dawn in secret.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Approaching from behind with threatening countenance.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +As soon as the beauteous eye which enthralls me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pausing.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—closes, and in her surpassing loveliness she sleeps—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Delighted.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I make my escape.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Furious.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I speed through the dew to a distant place, to sing there the necessary +number of times, and when I feel the darkness wavering, when only one +song more is needed, I return and noiselessly getting back to roost, +wake the Pheasant-hen by singing it at her side.—Betrayed by the dew? +Oh, no! [<i>Laughing.</i>] For with a whisk of my wing I brush my feet clear +of the tell-tale silveriness!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Close behind him.</i>] You brush your—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning.</i>] Ouch! [<i>Into the convolvulus.</i>] No nothing! +I Later!—Ouch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Violently.</i>] So! So! Not only you keep up an interest in the fidelity +of your old flames—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Evasively.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You furthermore—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Bee</span><br> +[<i>Inside the morning-glory.</i>] Vrrrrrrr!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Placing his wing over the flower.</i>] I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You deceive me to the point of remembering to brush off your feet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +This clodhopper, see now, whom I picked up off his haystack—and to rule +alone in his soul is apparently quite beyond my power!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Collecting himself and straightening up.</i>] When one dwells in a soul, +it is better, believe me, to meet with the Dawn there, than +with nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Angrily.</i>] No! the Dawn defrauds me of a great and undivided love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +There is no great love outside the shadow of a great dream! How should +there not flow more love from a soul whose very business it is to open +wide every day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Coming and going stormily.</i>] I will sweep everything aside with my +golden russet wing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And who are you, bent upon such tremendous sweeping [<i>They stand rigid +and erect in front of each other, looking defiance into each +other’s eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The Pheasant-hen I am, who have assumed the golden plumage of the +arrogant male!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Remaining in spite of all a female, whose eternal rival is the Idea!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a great cry.</i>] Hold me to your heart and be still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Crushing her brutally to him.</i>] Yes, I strain you to my Cock’s +heart—[<i>With infinite regret.</i>] Better it were I had folded you to my +Awakener’s soul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +To deceive me for the Dawn’s sake! Very well, however much you may abhor +it, you shall for my sake deceive the Dawn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I How?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Stamping her foot; in a capricious tone.</i>] It is my formal and +explicit wish—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But listen, dear—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +My formal and explicit wish that you should for one whole day refrain +altogether from singing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That I —</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I desire you to remain one whole day without singing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But, heavens and earth, am I to leave the valley in total darkness?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pouting.</i>] What harm will it do to the valley?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Whatever lies too long in darkness and sleep becomes used to falsehood +and consents to death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Leave singing for one day—[<i>In a tone of evil insinuation.</i>] It will +free my mind of certain suspicions troubling it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With a start.</i>] I can see what you are trying to do!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And I can see what you are afraid of!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Earnestly.</i>] I will never give up singing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And what if you were mistaken? What if the truth were that Dawn comes +without help from you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With fierce resolution.</i>] I shall not know it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a sudden burst of tears.</i>] Could you not forget the time, for once, +if you saw me weeping?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No, I could not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Nothing, ever, can make you forget the time?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Nothing. I am conscious of darkness as too heavy a weight.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +You are conscious of darkness as—Shall I tell you the truth? You think +you sing for the Dawn, but you sing in reality to be admired, +you—songster, you! [<i>With contemptuous pity.</i>] Is it possible you are +not aware that your poor notes raise a smile right through the forest, +accustomed to the fluting of the thrush?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I know, you are trying now to reach me through my pride, but—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I doubt if you can get so many as three toadstools and a couple of +sassafras stalks to listen to you, when the ardent oriole flings across +the leafy gloom his melodious pir-piriol!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Reappearing.</i>] From the Greek: Pure, <i>puros.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No more from you, please! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span> <i>hurriedly withdraws.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Insisting.</i>] The echo must make some rather interesting mental +reservations, one fancies, when he hears you sing after hearing the +great Nightingale!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning to leave.</i>] My nerves, my dear girl, are not of the very +steadiest to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Following.</i>] Did you ever hear him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Never.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +His song is so wonderful that the first time—[<i>She stops short, struck +by an idea.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Aside.</i>] Ah, you feel the weight of the darkness—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Coming forward again.</i>] What?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>With an ironical curtsey.</i>] Nothing! [<i>Carelessly.</i>] Let us go to +roost! [<span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>goes to the back and is preparing to rise to a +branch. The</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>aside.</i>] He does not know that when the +Nightingale sings one listens, supposing it to be a minute, and lo! the +whole night has been spent listening, even as happens in the enchanted +forest of a German legend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>As she does not join him, returns to her.</i>] What are you saying?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Laughing in his face.</i>] Nothing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>Outside.</i>] The illustrious Cock?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Looking around him.</i>] I am wanted?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Who has gone in the direction from whence came the voice.</i>] There, in +the grass! [<i>Jumping back.</i>] Mercy upon us! They are the—[<i>With a +movement of insuperable disgust.</i>] They are the—[<i>With a spring she +conceals herself in the hollow tree, calling back to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] Be +civil to them!</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Fifth</span></h3></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>hidden in the tree, and the</i> <span class="smcap">Toads</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Rearing himself in the grass.</i>] We have come—[<i>Other</i> <span class="smcap">Toads</span> <i>become +visible behind him.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ye gods, how ugly they are!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Obsequiously.</i>]—in behalf of all the thinking contingency of the +Forest, to the author of so many songs—[<i>He places his hand on +his heart.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With disgust.</i>] Oh, that hand spread over his paunch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>With a hop toward</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.]—at once novel,—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another Toad</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Pellucid!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Succinct!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Vital!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Pure!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] Great!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Gentlemen, pray be seated. [<i>They seat themselves around a large +toadstool.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +True, we are ugly—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Politely.</i>] You have fine eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Raising himself by bearing with both hands upon the rim of the +toadstool.</i>] But, Knights of this fungoid Round Table, we desire to do +homage to the Parsifal who has given to the world a sublime song—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +A true song!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +And a celestial!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Toad</span><br> +And a no less terrestrial!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>With authority.</i>] A song by comparison with which the song of the +Nightingale sinks into insignificance!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Astonished.</i>] The Nightingale’s song?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +[<i>In a tone of finality.</i>] Is not a circumstance to yours!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>With a hop.</i>] It was high time that a new singer—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +[<i>Same business.</i>] And a new song—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fifth Toad</span><br> +[<i>Quickly, to his neighbour.</i>] And a song by a stranger—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +Came to change conditions here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah, I shall change conditions?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +Glory to the Cock!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I do not see that the forest thinks so poorly of me after all!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +Played out, the Nightingale!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>More and more surprised.</i>] Really?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +More and more his song confesses itself effete—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +Mawkish!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Toad</span><br> +Null!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fourth</span><br> +[<i>Contemptuously.</i>] And his old-fashioned pretense of inspiration!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fifth Toad</span><br> +And the name he has adopted: Bul-bul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Toads</span><br> +[<i>Puffing with laughter.</i>] Bul-bul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +This is the way he goes on: [<i>Parodying the song of the</i> <span class="smcap">Nightingale</span>.] +Tio! Tio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +His solitary idea is an old silver trill copied from the bubbling +spring. [<i>He imitates in grotesque fashion the singing of the</i> +<span class="smcap">Nightingale</span>.] Tio! Tio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +But—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Quickly.</i>] Do not attempt, you, the Renovator of Art, to defend that +ancient high authority on sentimental gargling!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +That superannuated tenor quavering out his cavatinas to the glory of +minor poetry and the edification of fogydom!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Toad</span><br> +The Harp that twanged through Tara’s hall, and insists on twanging +still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Indulgently.</i>] But why should he not, after all, if he enjoys it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +Endeavouring to impose on a suffering and surfeited public the musty old +fashion of ingenious fioritura!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Audiences nowadays, of course, look for a different sort of thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Toad</span><br> +Your song has exposed the artificiality of his.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>In an explosion.</i>] Down with Bul-bul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Whom the</i> <span class="smcap">Toads</span> <i>have gradually surrounded.</i>] Gentlemen and honored +Batrachians, my voice, it is true, gives forth natural notes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +Yes, notes which lend us wings—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Modestly.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Waggling their bodies as if about to fly.</i>] Wings!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +Their secret being that they sing Life!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +That is true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +Yes, my dear fellow, Life!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With careless complacency.</i>] My crest for that reason is flesh and +blood!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Toads</span><br> +[<i>Clapping their little hands.</i>] Good, very good!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +That formula is a programme.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +Since we are assembled around a table, why should we not offer to the +Chief—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Modestly, hanging back from the suggested honour.</i>]Gentlemen—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Toad</span><br> +—to the Chief of whom we stood in notable need, a banquet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>Beating enthusiastically upon the toadstool.</i>] A banquet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking out from the tree.</i>] What is the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In spite of all, rather flattered.</i>] A banquet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Slightly ironical.</i>] Shall you accept?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You see, my dear—the new tendencies—Art,—the thinking contingency of +the Forest—[<i>Indicating the</i> <span class="smcap">Toads</span>.] Yes, I have lent wings to—[<i>In a +light and careless tone.</i>] It’s all up with the Nightingale, you see. +Musty old method! Antiquated trill! This is the way he goes on—[<i>To +the</i> <span class="smcap">Toads</span>.] How was it you said he went on?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Toads</span><br> +[<i>Comically.</i>] Tio! Tio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>with pitying indulgence.</i>] He goes on like +this: Tio! Tio! And I believe I need not scruple to accept—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>In the tree above him breaks forth in a long note, limpid, and +heart-moving.</i>] Tio! [<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Startled, raising his head.</i>] What was that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Quickly, visibly embarrassed.</i>] Nothing! It is he!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +[<i>Slowly and wonderfully, with the sigh of a soul in every note.</i>] Tio! +Tio! Tio! Tio!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turning upon the</i> <span class="smcap">Toads</span>.] Scum of the earth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +[<i>Backing away from him.</i>] What—?</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Sixth</span></h3></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Same</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Nightingale</span> <i>unseen, and little by little all the</i> +<span class="smcap">Forest Creatures</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +[<i>From the tree, in his emotionally throbbing voice.</i>] Tiny bird, lost +in the darkness of the tree, I feel myself turning into the heart-beat +of the infinite night!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Toads</span>.] And you have dared—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +Hushed lies the ravine beneath the magic of the moon—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +—to compare my rude singing with that divine voice? Scum of the earth! +Toads! And I never divined that they were doing to him here what was +done to me over yonder!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Suddenly swelling to a great size.</i>] Toads! Yes, as it happens, we are +Toads!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +Vapour of pearl wreathes the summits in an ethereal veil—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Self-appreciatively.</i>] We are Toads, certainly, magnificently embossed +with warts! [<i>All rear themselves up, swollen, standing between</i> +<span class="smcap">Chantecler</span> <i>and the tree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And I perceived not, I who have never known envy, to what venomous feast +I was bidden!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +What matter? Sooner or later, you, the strong, and I the tender, we +were fated, despite all the Toads in the world, to understand +each other!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With religious fervour.</i>] Sing!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Toad</span><br> +[<i>Who has hastily dragged himself to the tree in which the</i> <span class="smcap">Nightingale</span> +<i>is singing.</i>] Let us clasp the bark with our slimy little arms, and +slaver upon the foot of the tree! [<i>All crawl toward the tree.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Trying to stop one of them who is clumsily hopping.</i>] But are you not +yourself gifted with a singing voice of exceptional purity?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toad</span><br> +[<i>In a tone of sincerest suffering.</i>] I am, but when I hear somebody +else singing, I can’t help it,—I see green! [<i>He joins his +companions.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Working his jaws as if chewing something which foamed.</i>] There foam up +beneath our tongues I know not what strange soapsuds, and—[<i>To his +neighbour.</i>] Are you frothing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Other</span><br> +I am frothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Another</span><br> +He is frothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +We are frothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Toad</span><br> +[<i>Tenderly laying his arm about the neck of a dilatory</i> <span class="smcap">Toad</span>.] Come and +froth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Nightingale</span>.] But will they not trouble and prevent your +mellifluent song?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +In no wise. I will take their refrain into my song—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Big Toad</span><br> +[<i>Patting a little</i> <span class="smcap">Toad</span> <i>on the head to encourage him.</i>] Don’t be +afraid, go ahead,—froth!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +[<i>All together, at the base of the tree to which they form a crawling, +writhing girdle.</i>] The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +—And make of both a Villanelle!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +We welter in malignity!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +The while they fume beneath my tree I fill with song the enchanted +dell—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we! [<i>And the Villanelle +proceeds, sung by the alternate voices, one of which, ever higher and +more enraptured, carries the song proper, and the others, ever angrier +and lower, the burden of the song.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">The Toads</span>, <i>alternately</i> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I sing! for Wind, that harper free,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And music bubbling from the well—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">—We welter in malignity!—</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And fragrance floating from the lea,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of meadow-sweet and pimpernel—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">—The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!—</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Luna showering ecstasy,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All weave so wonderful a spell—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">—We welter in malignity!—</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its melting magic moveth me</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The secret of my heart to tell!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">—The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!—</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Within my heart all sympathy,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Within mine eye all visions dwell—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">—We welter in malignity!—</span><br> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Life, Death, I turn to rhapsody,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who am the deathless Philomel!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">—The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who welter in malignity!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Beside those heavenly pipes, ah, me! my voice is Punchinello’s squeak! +Sing on! Sing on! The Croakers are in retreat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +[<i>Retreating, overcome by the conquering song.</i>] Croak! croak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Their fate to seethe in the cauldron of a witch! But you, the creatures +of the forest come to slake the thirst of their hearts at your song. See +them creeping to the lure—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +[<i>From the underbrush.</i>] Croak! croak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +A doe, look! tiptoeing on delicate hoofs, followed by a wolf who has +forgotten to be a wolf—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +[<i>Lost among the grass.</i>] Croak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The squirrel steals down from the lofty tree-tops. The whole vast forest +is stirred by a thrill of brotherliness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Toads</span><br> +[<i>Out of sight.</i>]—roak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The echo alone now repeats—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Faint Distant Voice</span><br> +—oak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Gone! Gone are the Toads!</p> + +<p>[<i>Music holds the night: a song without words, delicate volleys of +rapturous notes.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The Glow-worms have lighted their small, green lamps. All that is good +comes forth, while hate shrinks back to its lair. Now they that shall be +eaten lay themselves down in the grass by the side of them that shall +eat them. The Star of a sudden looks nearer to earth, and forsaking her +web the Spider draws herself up toward your song, climbing by her own +silken thread.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Forest</span><br> +[<i>In a moan of ecstasy.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p>[<i>And the forest lies as if under a spell; the moonlight is softer, the +tender green fire of the glow-worm shines blinking among the moss; on +all sides, between the tree-boles creep, shadow-like, the charmed +beasts; eyes shine, moist muzzles point toward the source of the music. +The</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker</span> <i>stands at his bark window, dreamily nodding; all the</i> +<span class="smcap">Rabbits</span>, <i>with uppricked ears, sit at their earthen doors.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +When he sings thus without words, what is he singing, Squirrel?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Squirrel</span><br> +[<i>From a tree-top.</i>] The joy of swift motion.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And what say you, Hare?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Hare</span><br> +[<i>In the coppice.</i>] The thrill of fear!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You, Rabbit?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Rabbits</span><br> +The Dew!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +You, Doe?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Doe</span><br> +[<i>From the depths of the woods.</i>] Tears!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Wolf?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Wolf</span><br> +[<i>In a gentle distant howl.</i>] The Moon!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And you, Tree with the golden wound, singing Pine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pine-tree</span><br> +[<i>Softly beating time with one of its boughs.</i>] He tells me that my +drops of resin in the form of rosin will sing upon the bows of violins!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And you, Woodpecker, what does he say to you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>In ecstasy.</i>] He says that Aristophanes—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Promptly interrupting him.</i>] Never mind! I know! You, Spider?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Spider</span><br> +[<i>Swinging at the end of one of her threads.</i>] He sings of the raindrop +sparkling in my web like a royal gift.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And you, Drop of Water, sparkling in her web?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Little Voice</span><br> +[<i>From the cobweb.</i>] Of the Glow-worm!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And you, Glow-worm?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Little Voice</span><br> +[<i>In the grass.</i>]Of the Star!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And you, if one may so far presume as to question you, of what does he +sing to you, Star?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>In the sky.</i>] Of the Shepherd!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah, what fountain is it—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Who is watching the horizon between the trees.</i>] The darkness is +lightening.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +What fountain, in which each finds water for his thirst? [<i>Listening +with greater attention.</i>] To me he speaks of the Day, which arises and +shines at my song!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Aside.</i>] And speaks of it so eloquently that for once you will forget +it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Noticing a</i> <span class="smcap">Bird</span> <i>who having come a little way out of the thicket is +beatifically listening.</i>] And how do you, Snipe, translate his poem?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Snipe</span><br> +I don’t know. I only know I like it—It is sweet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Who is not lured—she!—into forgetting to watch the +sky between the branches, aside.</i>] The night is wearing +away!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Nightingale</span>, <i>in a discouraged voice.</i>] To sing! To sing! But +how, after hearing the faultless crystal of your note, can I ever be +satisfied again with the crude, brazen blare of mine?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +But you must!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Shall I find it possible ever again to sing? My song, alas, must seem to +me always after this too brutal and too red!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +I have sometimes thought that mine was too facile, perhaps, and too +blue!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Oh, how can you humble yourself to make such a confession to me?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +You fought for a friend of mine, the Rose! Learn, comrade, this +sorrowful and reassuring fact, that no one, Cock of the morning or +evening Nightingale, has quite the song of his dreams!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With passionate desire.</i>] Oh, to be a sound that soothes and lulls!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +To be a splendid call to duty!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I make nobody weep!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +I awaken nobody! [<i>But after the expression of this regret, he continues +in an ever higher and more lyrical voice.</i>] What matter? One must sing +on! Sing on, even while knowing that there are songs which he prefers to +his own song. One must sing,—sing,—sing,—until—[<i>A shot. A flash +from the thicket. Brief silence, then a small, tawny body drops at</i> +<span class="smcap">Chantecler’s</span> <i>feet.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bending and looking.</i>] The Nightingale!—The brutes! [<i>And without +noticing the vague, earliest tremour of daylight spreading through the +air, he cries in a sob.</i>] Killed! And he had sung such a little, little +while! [<i>One or two feathers slowly flutter down.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +His feathers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bending over the body which is shaken by a last throe.</i>] Peace, little +poet!</p> + +<p>[<i>Rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs; from a thicket projects</i> +<span class="smcap">Patou’s</span> <i>shaggy head.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Seventh</span></h3></div> + +<p><i>The same</i>, <span class="smcap">Patou</span>, <i>emerging for a moment from the brush.</i></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] You! [<i>Reproachfully.</i>] You have come to get him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Ashamed.</i>] Forgive me! The poacher compels me—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Who had sprung before the body, to protect it, uncovers it.</i>] A +Nightingale!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Hanging his head.</i>] Yes. The evil race of man loves to shower lead +into a singing tree.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +See, the burying beetle has already come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Gently withdrawing.</i>] I will make believe I found nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Watching the day break.</i>] He has not noticed that night is nearly +over.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Bending over the grasses which begin to stir about the dead bird.</i>] +Insect, where the body has fallen, be swift to come and open the earth. +The funereal necrophaga are the only grave-diggers who never carry the +dead elsewhere, believing that the least sad, and the most fitting tomb, +is the very clay whereon one fell into the final sleep. [<i>To the funeral +insects, while the</i> <span class="smcap">Nightingale</span> <i>begins gently to sink into the +ground.</i>] Piously dig his grave! Light lie the earth upon him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Aside, looking at the horizon.</i>] Over there—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Verily, verily, I say unto you, Bul-bul to-night shall see the Bird of +Paradise!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Aside.</i>] The sky is turning white! [<i>A whistle is heard in the +distance.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] I will come back. He is whistling me. [<i>Disappears.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Restlessly dividing her attention between the horizon and the</i> <span class="smcap">Cock</span>.] +How can I conceal from him—[<i>She moves tenderly toward</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, +<i>opening her wings so as to hide the brightening East, and taking +advantage of his grief.</i>] Come and weep beneath my wing! [<i>With a sob he +lays his head beneath the comforting wing which is quickly clapped over +him. And the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>gently lulls him, murmuring.</i>] You see that +my wing is soft and comforting! You see—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>In a smothered voice.</i>] Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Gently rocks him, darting a glance now and then over her shoulder to +see how the dawn is progressing.</i>] You see that a wing is an outspread +heart—[<i>Aside.</i>] Day is breaking! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] You see +that—[<i>Aside.</i>] The sky has paled! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.]—that a wing +is—[<i>Aside.</i>] The tree is steeped in rosy light! [<i>To</i> +<span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.]—partly a shield, and partly a cradle, partly a cloak and a +place of rest,—that a wing is a kiss which enfolds and covers you over. +You see that—[<i>With a backward leap, suddenly withdrawing her wings.</i>] +the Day can break perfectly well without you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With the greatest cry of anguish possible to created being.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Continuing inexorably.</i>] That the mosses in a moment will be scarlet!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Running toward the moss.</i>] Ah, no! No! Not without me! [<i>The moss +flushes red.</i>] Ungrateful!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The horizon—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Imploringly, to the horizon.</i>] No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +—is glowing gold!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Staggering.</i>] Treachery!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +One may be all in all to another heart, you see, one can be nothing to +the sky!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Swooning.</i>] It is true!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Returning, cheery and cordial.</i>] Here I am! I have come to tell you +that they are all mad over there, at the topsy-turvy farm, to have back +the Cock who orders the return of Day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +They believe that now I have ceased to believe it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Stopping short, amazed.</i>] What do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Bitterly pressing close to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>.] You see that a heart pressing +against your own is better than a sky which does not in the very +least need you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Yes!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +That darkness after all may be as sweet as light if there are two +close-clasped in the shade.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Wildly.</i>] Yes! Yes! [<i>But suddenly leaving her side he raises his head +and in a ringing voice.</i>] Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Taken aback.</i>] Why are you crowing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +As a warning to myself,—for thrice have I denied the thing I love!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +And what is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +My life’s work! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] Up and about! Come, let us go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +What are you going to do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Follow my calling.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But what night is there for you to rout?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The night of the eyelid!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pointing toward the growing glory of the dawn.</i>] Very well, you will +rouse sleepers—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +And Saint Peter!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But can you not see that Day has risen without the benefit of your +crowing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +I am more sure of my destiny than of the daylight before my eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Pointing at the</i> <span class="smcap">Nightingale</span> <i>who has already half disappeared into +the earth.</i>] Your faith can no more return to life than can that +dead bird.</p> + +<p>[<i>From the tree above their heads suddenly rings forth the +heart-stirring, limpid, characteristic note: Tio! Tio!</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Struck with amazement.</i>] Is it another singing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>With quivering ear.</i>] And singing still better, if possible.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Looking up in a sort of terror at the foliage, and then down at the +little grave.</i>] Another takes up the song when this one disappears?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice</span><br> +In the forest must always be a Nightingale!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With exaltation.</i>] And in the soul a faith so faithful that it comes +back even after it has been slain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But if the Sun is climbing up the sky?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +There must have been left in the air some power from my yesterday’s +song.</p> + +<p>[<i>Flights of noiseless grey wings pass among the trees.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +[<i>Hooting joyfully.</i>] He kept still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Raising his head and looking after them.</i>] The Owls, fleeing from the +newly risen light, are coming home to the woods.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +[<i>Returning to their holes in the old trees.</i>] He kept still!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>With all his strength come back to him.</i>] The proof that I was serving +the cause of light when I sang is that the Owls are glad of my silence. +[<i>Going to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>, <i>with defiance in his mien.</i>] I make the +Dawn appear, and I do more than that!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Choking.</i>] You do—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +On grey mornings, when poor creatures waking in the twilight dare not +believe in the day, the bright copper of my song takes the place of the +sun! [<i>Turning to go.</i>] Back to our work!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +But how find courage to work after doubting the work’s value?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Buckle down to work!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>With angry stubbornness.</i>] But if you have nothing whatever to do with +making the morning?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Then I am just the Cock of a remoter Sun! My cries so affect the night +that it lets certain beams of the day pierce through its black tent, and +those are what we call the stars. I shall not live to see shining upon +the steeples that final total light composed of stars clustered in +unbroken mass; but if I sing faithfully and sonorously and if, long +after me, and long after that, in every farmyard its Cock sings +faithfully, sonorously, I truly believe there will be no more night!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +When will that be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +One Day!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Go, go, and forget our forest!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +No, I shall never forget the noble green forest where I learned that he +who has witnessed the death of his dream must either die at once or else +arise stronger than before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>In a voice which she does her best to make insulting.</i>] Go and get +into your hen-house by the way of a ladder.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +The birds have taught me that I can use my wings to go in.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Go and see your old Hen in her old broken basket.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Ah, forest of the Toads, forest of the Poacher, forest of the +Nightingale, and of the Pheasant-hen, when my old peasant mother sees me +home again, back from your green recesses where pain is so interwoven +with love, what will she say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Imitating the</i> <span class="smcap">Old Hen’s</span> <i>affectionate quaver.</i>] How that Chick has +grown!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Emphatically.</i>] Of course she will! [<i>Turning to leave.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +He is going! When faithless they turn to leave, oh, that we had arms, +arms to hold them fast,—but we have only wings!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Stops short and looks at her, troubled.</i>] She weeps?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Hastily, pushing him along with his paw.</i>] Hurry up!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Patou</span>.] Wait a moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +I am willing. Nothing can sit so patiently and watch the dropping of +tears as an old dog.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Crying to</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler</span>, <i>with a leap toward him.</i>] Take me with you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Turns and in an inflexible voice.</i>] Will you consent to stand second +to the Dawn?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Fiercely drawing back.</i>] Never!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +Then farewell!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I hate you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler</span><br> +[<i>Already at some distance among the brush.</i>] I love you, but I should +poorly serve the work to which I devote myself anew at the side of one +to whom it were less than the greatest thing in the world! [<i>He +disappears.</i>]</p> + + + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop chap"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Scene Eighth</span></h3></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen, Patou</span>, <i>later the</i> <span class="smcap">Woodpecker, Rabbits</span>, <i>and, all the</i> +<span class="smcap">Voices</span> <i>of the awakening forest.</i></p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>To the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] Mourn!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Spider</span><br> +[<i>In the centre of her-web which now sifts the gold dust of a sunbeam.</i>] +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Spider at morn,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cometh to warn!</span><br> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Furiously, tearing down the cobweb with a brush of her wing.</i>] Be +still, hateful Spider!—Oh, may he perish for having disdained me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Who from his window has been watching</i> <span class="smcap">Chantecler’s</span> <i>departure, +suddenly, frightened.</i>] The poacher has seen him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +[<i>In the trees.</i>] The Cock is in danger!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Leaning out to see better.</i>] He breaks his gun in two!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Alarmed.</i>] To load it! Is that murderous fool in sheepskin gaiters +going to fire upon a rooster?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Spreading her wings to rise.</i>] Not if he sees a pheasant!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Springing before her.</i>] What are you doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Following my calling! [<i>She flies toward the danger.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Seeing that in her upward swing she must touch the spring of the +forgotten snare.</i>] Look out for the snare! [<i>Too late. The net falls.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Utters a cry of despair.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +She is caught!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Struggling in the net.</i>] He is lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Wildly.</i>] She is—He is—</p> + +<p>[<i>All the</i> <span class="smcap">Rabbits</span> <i>have thrust out their heads to see.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Crying in an ardent prayer.</i>] Daybreak protect him!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Owls</span><br> +[<i>Rocking themselves gleefully among the branches.</i>] The gun-barrel +shines, shines—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Dawn, touch the cartridge with your dewy wing! Trip the foot of the +hunter in a tangle of grass! He is your Cock! He drove off the darkness +and the shadow of the Hawk! And he is going to die. Nightingale, you, +say something! Speak!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nightingale</span><br> +[<i>In a supplicating sob.</i>] He fought for a friend of mine, the Rose!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Let him live! And I will dwell in the farmyard beside the ploughshare +and the hoe! And renouncing for his sake all that in my pride I made a +burden and torment to him, I will own, O Sun, that when you made his +shadow you marked out my place in the world!</p> + +<p>[<i>Daylight grows. On all sides, rustles and murmurs.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Singing.</i>] The air is blue!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Crow</span><br> +[<i>Cawing as he flies past.</i>] Daylight grows!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +The forest is astir—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All the Birds</span><br> +[<i>Waking among the trees.</i>] Good-morning! Good-morning! Good-morning! +Good-morning! Good-morning!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Everyone sings!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Jay</span><br> +[<i>Darting past like a streak of blue lightning.</i>] Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +The Jay shakes with homeric laughter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Crying in the midst of the music of the morning.</i>] Let him live!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jay</span><br> +[<i>Again darting past.</i>] Ha, ha!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Cuckoo</span><br> +[<i>In the distance.</i>] Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +I abdicate!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Lifting his eyes heavenward.</i>] She abdicates!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +Forgive, O Light, to whom I dared dispute him! Dazzle the eye taking +aim, and be victory awarded, O Sunbeams—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Jay</span> <i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Cuckoo</span> +[<i>Far away.</i>] Ha! Cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +—to your powder of gold—[<i>A shot. She gives a sharp cry, ending in a +dying voice.</i>]—over man’s black powder! [<i>Silence.</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chantecler’s Voice</span><br> +[<i>Very far away.</i>] Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span><br> +[<i>In a glad cry.</i>] Saved!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Rabbits</span><br> +[<i>Capering gaily out of their burrows.</i>] Let us turn somersets among the +thyme!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Voice</span><br> +[<i>Fresh and solemn, among the trees.</i>] O God of birds!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Rabbits</span><br> +[<i>Stopping short in their antics stand abruptly still; soberly.</i>] The +morning prayer!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Woodpecker</span><br> +[<i>Crying to the</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span>.] They are coming to examine the trap!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Pheasant-hen</span><br> +[<i>Closes her eyes in resignation.</i>] So be it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Voice in the Trees</span><br> +God by whose grace we wake to this new day—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Patou</span><br> +[<i>Before leaving.</i>] Hush! Drop the curtain! Men folk are coming! +[<i>Off.</i>]</p> + +<p>[<i>All the woodland creatures hide. The</i> <span class="smcap">Pheasant-hen</span> <i>is left alone, +and, held down by the snare, with spread wings and panting breast, +awaits the approach of the giant.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center p2"><span class="smcap">Curtain</span></p> + + + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHANTECLER ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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