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diff --git a/old/10747.txt b/old/10747.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35539f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10747.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9722 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Chantecler, by Edmond Rostand + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Chantecler + Play in Four Acts + +Author: Edmond Rostand + +Release Date: January 19, 2004 [EBook #10747] +[Last updated: February 21, 2023] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHANTECLER *** + + + + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Ginny Brewer and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +CHANTECLER + +Play in Four Acts +By +EDMOND ROSTAND + +Translated +By +GERTRUDE HALL + +1910 + + + +_DRAMATIS PERSONAE_ + +CHANTECLER +PATOU +THE BLACKBIRD +THE PEACOCK +THE NIGHTINGALE +THE GRAND-DUKE +THE SCREECH-OWL +LITTLE SCOPS +THE GAME-COCK +THE HUNTING DOG +A CARRIER-PIGEON +THE WOOD-PECKER +THE TURKEY +THE DUCK +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +THE PHEASANT-HEN +THE GUINEA-HEN +THE OLD HEN +THE WHITE HEN +THE GREY HEN +THE BLACK HEN +THE SPECKLED HEN +THE TUFTED HEN + +A Gander. A Capon. Chickens. Chicks. A Cockerel. +A Swan. A Cuckoo. Night-birds. Fancy Cocks. +Toads. A Turkey-hen. A Goose. A Garden Warbler. +A Woodland Warbler. A Spider. A Heron. A Pigeon. +A Guinea-pig. Barnyard animals. Woodland Creatures. +Rabbits. Birds. Bees. Cicadas. Voices. + + + +PROLOGUE + +_The customary three knocks are heard. The drop-curtain wavers and is +rising, when a voice rings out, "Not yet!" and the_ MANAGER, _a +gentleman of important mien in evening dress, springing from his +proscenium box, hurries toward the stage, repeating, "Not yet!"_ + +_The curtain is again lowered. The_ MANAGER _turns toward the audience, +and resting one hand on the prompter's box, addresses them:_ + +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? + +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. + +You are desired to-night to listen to those sounds and entering the +scene before you see it, to wonder and surmise-- + +_Bending his ear, the_ MANAGER _listens to the sounds now beginning to +come from behind the curtain._ + +A footstep--is it a road? A flutter of wings--is it a garden? + +_The curtain here rippling as if about to rise, the_ MANAGER +_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._ + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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! + +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! + +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. + +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. + +Sunday!--Farmer and farmer's wife are starting for the fair. The old +horse paws the ground-- + +A ROUGH VOICE +[_Behind the curtain, through the horse's pawing._] Whoa, Dapple! + +ANOTHER VOICE +[_As if calling to a laggard._] Come along! We shan't get home till +morning! + +AN IMPATIENT VOICE +Are you ready? + +ANOTHER VOICE +Fasten the shutters! + +MAN'S VOICE +All right! + +WOMAN'S VOICE +My sunshade! + +MAN'S VOICE +[_Through the cracking of the whip._] Gee up! + +THE MANAGER +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. + +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. [_He listens again._] + +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! + +The members of our company are small, but--[_Calling toward the flies._] +Alexander! [_To the audience._] He is my chief machinist. [_Calling +again._] Let it down! + +A VOICE +[_From the flies._] It's coming, sir! + +MANAGER +We have lowered between the audience and the stage an invisible screen +of magnifying glass-- + +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! + +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. + +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-- + +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! + + + + +ACT I + + +THE EVENING OF THE PHEASANT-HEN + +_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._ + + + +SCENE FIRST + +_The whole barnyard company,_ HENS, CHICKENS, CHICKS, DUCKS, TURKEYS, +_etc.;_ THE BLACKBIRD _in his cage_, THE CAT _asleep on the wall, later_ +A BUTTERFLY _on the flowers._ + + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Pecking._] Ah! Delicious! + +ANOTHER HEN +What are you eating? + +ALL THE HENS +[_Rushing to the spot._] What's she eating? + +THE WHITE HEN +A small green beetle, crisp and nice, tasting of the rose-leaves he had +lived on. + +THE BLACK HEN +[_Standing before the_ BLACKBIRD'S _cage._] Really, the Blackbird +whistles amazingly! + +THE WHITE HEN +Any little street urchin can do as much! + +THE TURKEY +[_Solemnly._] An urchin who had learned of a shepherd in Sicily! + +THE DUCK +He never whistles his tune to the end-- + +THE TURKEY +That's too easy, carrying it to the end! [_He hums the tune the_ +BLACKBIRD _has been whistling._] "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! + +[_The_ BLACKBIRD _comes out on the little platform in front of his cage +and bows._] + +A CHICK +[_Astonished._] Can he get out? + +BLACKBIRD +Applause is salt on my tail! + +THE CHICK +But his cage? + +THE TURKEY +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! + +THE BLACK HEN +[_Catching sight of a_ BUTTERFLY _alighting on the flowers above the +wall at the back._] Oh, what a gorgeous butterfly! + +THE WHITE HEN +Where? + +THE BLACK HEN +On the honey-suckle. + +THE TURKEY +That kind is called an Admiral. + +THE CHICK +[_Looking after the_ BUTTERFLY.] Now he has settled on a pink. + +THE WHITE HEN +[_To the_ TURKEY.] An Admiral, wherefore? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Obviously because he is neither a seaman nor a soldier. + +THE WHITE HEN +Our Blackbird has a pretty wit! + +THE TURKEY +[_Nodding and swinging his red stalactite._] He has better than wit, my +dear! + +ANOTHER HEN +[_Watching the_ BUTTERFLY.] It's sweet--a butterfly! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Easy as possible to make! You take a W and set it on top of a Y! + +A HEN +[_Delighted._] A flourish of his bill, and there you have your +caricature! + +THE TURKEY +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. + +A CHICK +[_To a_ HEN.] Mother, why does the Cat hate the Dog? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Because he appropriates his seat at the theatre. + +THE CHICK +[_Surprised._] They have a theatre? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Where dumb-shows are given. + +THE CHICK +Eh? + +THE BLACKBIRD +The hearthstone from whence both alike wish to watch the play of the +Fire among the Logs. + +THE TURKEY +[_Delighted._] 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! + +THE SPECKLED HEN +[_To the_ WHITE HEN, _who is pecking._] Do you peck peppers? + +THE WHITE HEN +Constantly. + +THE SPECKLED HEN +How can you stand the sting? + +THE WHITE HEN +It imparts to the feathers a delicate rosy tint. + +THE SPECKLED HEN +Oh, does it! + +A VOICE IN THE DISTANCE +Cuckoo! + +THE WHITE HEN +Listen! + +THE VOICE +[_From a greater distance._] Cuckoo! + +THE WHITE HEN +The Cuckoo! + +A GREY HEN +[_Comes running excitedly._] Which Cuckoo? The one who lives in the +woods, or the one who lives in the clock? + +THE VOICE +[_Still further off._] Cuckoo! + +THE WHITE HEN +The one of the woods. + +THE GREY HEN +[_With a sigh of relief._] Oh, I was so afraid of having missed the +other! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Going near enough to her to speak in an undertone._] Do you mean to +say you love him? + +THE GREY HEN +[_Sadly._] 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--[_She takes up her +position on the threshold._] + +A VOICE +White Hen! + + + +SCENE SECOND + +THE SAME, _a_ PIGEON _on the roof, later_ CHANTECLER. + + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Looking about with quick jerks of her head._] Who called me? + +THE VOICE +A pigeon. + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Looking for him._] Where? + +THE PIGEON +On the sloping roof. + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Lifting her head and seeing him._] Ah! + +THE PIGEON +Though I am the bearer of an important missive, I would not miss the +opportunity--Good evening, Hen! + +THE WHITE HEN +Postman, howdedo? + +THE PIGEON +My duty on the Postal Service of the Air obliging me this summer evening +to pass your habitations, I should be most happy if-- + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Spying a crumb of some sort._] One moment, please. + +ANOTHER HEN +[_Running eagerly towards her._] What are you eating? + +ALL THE HENS +[_Arriving at a run._] What's she eating? + +THE WHITE HEN +A simple grain of wheat. + +THE GREY HEN +[_Taking up her conversation with the_ WHITE HEN.] As I was telling you, +I mean to stay right on the door-step there--[_Showing the door of +the house._] + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Looking at the door._] The door is shut. + +THE GREY HEN +Yes, but I shall hear the hour striking, and I will catch a look at my +Cuckoo by stretching my neck,-- + +THE PIGEON +[_Calling, slightly out of patience._] White Hen! + +THE WHITE HEN +One moment, please! [_To the_ GREY HEN.]--Catch a look at your Cuckoo, +by stretching your neck where?--Where? + +THE GREY HEN +[_Pointing with her beak at the small, round opening at the foot of the +door._] Through the cat-hole! + +THE PIGEON +[_Raising his voice to a shout._] Am I to be kept here cooling my feet +on your rain-pipe? Hi, there, whitest of Hens! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Hopping towards him._] You were saying? + +THE PIGEON +I was about to say-- + +THE WHITE HEN +What, bluest of Pigeons? + +THE PIGEON +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-- + +THE WHITE HEN +Of what? + +THE PIGEON +Oh, just a glimpse, the very least glimpse of-- + +ALL THE HENS +[_Impatiently._] Of what?--What? + +THE PIGEON +Of his comb! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Laughing, to the others._] Ha! ha! he wishes to see-- + +THE PIGEON +[_In great excitement._] That's it! Just to see-- + +THE WHITE HEN +There, there, cool down! + +THE PIGEON +I am shaking with excitement! + +THE WHITE HEN +You are shaking down the roof! + +THE PIGEON +You can't think how we admire him! + +THE WHITE HEN +Oh, everyone admires him! + +THE PIGEON +And I promised my missis to tell her what he is like! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Quietly pecking._] Oh, he's a fine fellow, no doubt +of that! + +THE PIGEON +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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping up and down in his cage._] Tick-tock!--who sets all hearts +a-beating, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock! + +A HEN +Our Cock! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Thrusting his head between the bars of his cage._] My, thy, his, her, +our, your, and their Cock! + +THE TURKEY +[_To the_ PIGEON.] He will soon be coming in from his usual round in the +fields. + +THE PIGEON +You have the honour of his acquaintance, sir? + +THE TURKEY +[_Importantly._] 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. + +THE PIGEON +Ah, indeed? You give lessons in-- + +THE TURKEY +Certainly. A bird who can gobble is qualified to teach crowing. + +THE PIGEON +Where was he born? + +THE TURKEY +[_Indicating an old covered basket, badly battered and broken._] In that +old basket. + +THE PIGEON +And is the hen who brooded him still living? + +THE TURKEY +[_Again indicating the basket._] She is there. + +THE PIGEON +Where? + +THE TURKEY +In that old basket. + +THE PIGEON +[_More and more interested._] Of what breed is she? + +THE TURKEY +She is just a good old-fashioned Gascon hen, born in the neighbourhood +of Pau. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Thrusting out his head._] She is the one Henry the Fourth wished to +see cooking in every Frenchman's pot! + +THE PIGEON +How proud she must be of having hatched such a Cock! + +THE TURKEY +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-- +[_Calling towards the basket._] Hey, old lady, he is growing! + +ALL THE HENS +He is growing! + +[_The lid of the basket is suddenly lifted, and a bristling aged hen's +head appears._] + +THE PIGEON +[_To the_ OLD HEN, _gently and feelingly._] Does it make you happy, +mother, to think of him grown to a big fine Cock? + +THE OLD HEN +[_Nodding, sententiously._] Happy?--Wednesday's crops do credit to +Tuesday! [_She disappears, the lid drops._] + +THE TURKEY +She opens now and then, like that, and ping! shoots at us some such +pearl of homely lore-- + +THE PIGEON +[_To the_ WHITE HEN.] White Hen! + +THE TURKEY +--not always wholly without point! + +THE OLD HEN +[_Reappearing for an instant._] In the Peacock's absence, the Turkey +spreads his tail! + +[_The_ TURKEY _turns quickly around, the lid has already dropped._] + +THE PIGEON +[_To the_ WHITE HEN.] Is it a fact that Chantecler is never hoarse, +never the very least husky? + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Keeping on with her pecking._] Perfectly true. + +THE PIGEON +[_With growing enthusiasm._] Ah, you must be proud Cock who will be +numbered among Illustrious Animals and his name remembered five, ten, +fifteen years! + +THE TURKEY +Very proud. Very proud. [_To a_ CHICK.] Who are the Illustrious Animals? +Tell them off! + +THE CHICK +[_Reciting a lesson._] Noah's Dove--Saint Rocco's Poodle--The--the Horse +of Cali-- + +THE TURKEY +Cali--? + +THE CHICK +[_Trying to remember._] Cali-- + +THE PIGEON +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? + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Pecking._] Perfectly true. + +THE CHICK +[_Still hunting for his word._] Cali--Cali-- + +THE PIGEON +White Hen, is it true that by his song, defender of the warm and sacred +egg, he has frequently kept the lissome weasel from-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Looking out between the bars._]--messing his shirtfront with omelette? + +THE WHITE HEN +Perfectly true. + +THE CHICK +Cali-- + +THE TURKEY +[_Helping him._] Gu? + +THE CHICK +Gu-- + +THE PIGEON +Is it true--? + +THE CHICK +[_Jumping for joy at having found._] Gula! + +THE PIGEON +--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? + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Weary of this questioning._] Perfectly true. + +THE PIGEON +That secret, that great secret, is it known to anyone? + +THE WHITE HEN +No. + +THE PIGEON +He has not even told his Hen? + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Correcting him._] His Hens. + +THE PIGEON +[_Slightly shocked._] Ah, he has more than one? + +THE BLACKBIRD +He crows, remember, you only coo. + +THE PIGEON +Well, then, he has not even told his favourite? + +THE TUFTED HEN +[_Promptly._] No, he has not! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_As promptly._] No, he has not! + +THE BLACK HEN +[_As promptly._] No, he has not! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Thrusting out his head._] Hush!--An a๋rial drama! The Butterfly, +absorbed in his head of blossom, banquets, all oblivious of-- + +[_A great green gauze butterfly-net appears above the wall, softly +coming towards the_ BUTTERFLY _settled on one of the flowers._] + +A HEN +What is that? + +THE TURKEY +[_Solemnly._] Fate! + +THE BLACKBIRD +In a thin disguise of gauze! + +THE WHITE HEN +Oh, a net--at the end of a cane! + +THE BLACKBIRD +No harm in the cane--it's the kid at the other end of the cane! [_Half +aloud, watching the_ BUTTERFLY.] You neat little fop, sailing from rose +to rose, to-night you'll be neat as a pin can make you! + +ALL +[_Watching the cautious approach of the net beyond the wall._] +Nearer--Nearer--Hush! He'll catch it!--No he won't!--Yes, he will! + +SUDDENLY OUTSIDE +Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +[_At the sound, the_ BUTTERFLY _flies off. The_ NET _wavers a moment, +with an effect of disappointment, then disappears._] + +SEVERAL HENS +What?--Eh?--What was it? + +A HEN +[_Who having hopped up on a wheelbarrow can follow the flight of the_ +BUTTERFLY.] He is off and away, over the meadow. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_With ironical emphasis._] It's Chantecler, practicing knight-errantry! + +THE PIGEON +[_With emotion._] Chantecler! + +A HEN +He is coming! + +ANOTHER HEN +He is just outside-- + +THE WHITE HEN +[_To the_ PIGEON.] Now you will see. He's a very fine bird indeed. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Thrusting his head between the bars._] Easy as possible to make, a +Cock! + +THE TURKEY +[_Admiringly._] Admirable amenity! + +THE BLACKBIRD +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! + +THE PIGEON +[_Gently._] One thing you have omitted--His heavenly clarion call! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Indicating_ CHANTECLER, _who now appears upon the wall._] Yes, but +with the exception of that--slight detail, you must own my portrait is +a likeness. + +THE PIGEON +Not at all. Not in the very least. [_Contemplating_ CHANTECLER _with a +very different eye from the_ BLACKBIRD'S.] 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! + +CHANTECLER +[_On the wall, in a long guttural sigh._] Coa-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +When he makes that noise in his throat, he either is in love, or +preparing some poetic outburst. + +CHANTECLER +[_Motionless on the wall, with head high._] Blaze forth in +glory!--Dazzle-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +He's letting off hot air! + +CHANTECLER +Irradiate the world! + +A HEN +Now he pauses--one claw lifted-- + +CHANTECLER +[_In a sort of groan of excessive tenderness._] Coa-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +That, if you please, is ecstasy! + +CHANTECLER +Thy gold is of all gold alone beneficent! I worship thee! + +THE PIGEON +[_Under breath._] To whom is he talking? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Sneering._] To the sun, sonny, the sun! + +CHANTECLER + O thou that driest the tears of the meanest among weeds + And dost of a dead flower make a living butterfly-- + Thy miracle, wherever almond-trees + Shower down the wind their scented shreds, + Dead petals dancing in a living swarm-- + I worship thee, O Sun! whose ample light, + Blessing every forehead, ripening every fruit, + Entering every flower and every hovel, + Pours itself forth and yet is never less, + Still spending and unspent--like mother's love! + + I sing of thee, and will be thy high priest, + Who disdainest not to glass thy shining face + In the humble basin of blue suds, + Or see the lightning of thy last farewell + Reflected in an humble cottage pane! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Thrusting out his head._] Can't call it off now, boys, he's started on +an ode! + +THE TURKEY +[_Watching_ CHANTECLER _as by a series of stately hops he comes down a +pile of hay._] Here he comes, prouder than-- + +A HEN +[_Stopping in front of a small tin cone._] See there! The new-fangled +drinking-trough! [_She drinks._] Handy! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Prouder than a drum major chanting as he marches: + "My country, 'tis of thee!" + +CHANTECLER +[_Beginning to walk about the yard._] + Thou smilest on the-- + +ALL THE HENS +[_Rushing to the_ WHITE HEN _who is eating something._] What's she +eating? + +THE WHITE HEN +Corn. Nothing but corn. + +CHANTECLER + Thou smilest on the sunflower craning after thee, + And burnishest my brother of the vane, + And softly sifting through the linden-trees + Strewest the ground with dappled gold, + So fine there's no more walking where it lies. + + Through thee the earthen pot is an enamelled urn, + The clout hung out to dry a noble banner, + The hay-rick by thy favour boasts a golden cape, + And the rick's little sister, the thatched hive, + Wears, by thy grace, a hood of gold! + + Glory to thee in the vineyards! Glory to thee in the fields! + Glory among the grass and on the roofs, + In eyes of lizards and on wings of swans,-- + Artist who making splendid the great things + Forgets not to make exquisite the small! + + 'Tis thou that, cutting out a silhouette, + To all thou beamest on dost fasten this dark twin, + Doubling the number of delightful shapes, + Appointing to each thing its shadow, + More charming often than itself. + + I praise thee, Sun! Thou sheddest roses on the air, + Diamonds on the stream, enchantment on the hill; + A poor dull tree thou takest and turnest to green rapture, + O Sun, without whose golden magic--things + Would be no more than what they are! + +THE PIGEON +Bravo! I shall have something to tell my mate. We shall long talk of +this! + +CHANTECLER +[_Seeing him, with noble courtesy._] Young blue-winged stranger, with +new-fledged bill, thanks! Pray lay my duty at her coral feet! + +[_The_ PIGEON _flies off._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +Jolly your admirers, it pays! + +CHANTECLER +[_In a cordial voice, to the whole barnyard._] To work now, all of you, +with a will! + +[_A_ FLY _darts past, buzzing._] + +CHANTECLER +Busy and resonant Fly, I love thee! Behold her! What is her flight but +the heart-whole gift of herself? + +THE TURKEY +[_Loftily._] Yes.--She has dropped considerably in my esteem, however, +since that matter of the-- + +CHANTECLER +Of the what? + +THE TURKEY +Of the Fly and the-- + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE TURKEY +Yes, but all the same-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning his back on him._] Come, let us make of labour a delight! +Come, all of you!--High time, Ganders my worthies, you escorted your +geese to the pond. + +A GANDER +[_Lazily._] Is it quite necessary, do you think? + +CHANTECLER +[_Going briskly towards him, with a look that forbids discussion._] +Quite! And let there be no idle quacking and paltering! [_The_ GANDERS +_go off in haste._] 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! + +THE COCKEREL +[_Slightly mortified._] The echo--? + +CHANTECLER +That is what I was doing to limber up my glottis before I was rid of the +egg-shell sticking to my tail! + +A HEN +[_Airily._] None of this is particularly interesting! + +CHANTECLER +Everything is interesting! Pray go and sit on the eggs you have been +entrusted with! [_To another_ HEN.] 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! [_To another._] You, hie to the rescue of +cabbages in old neglected corners, where the grasshopper lays siege to +them with his vigorous battering-ram! [_To the remaining_ HENS.] +You--[_Catching sight of the_ OLD HEN, _whose shaking, senile head has +lifted the basket-lid._] Ah, there you are, Nursie! Good day! [_She +gazes at him admiringly._] Well, have I grown? + +THE OLD HEN +Sooner or later, tadpole becomes toad! + +CHANTECLER +True! [_To the _HENS,_ resuming his tone of command._] Ladies, stand in +line! Your orders are to peck in the fields. Off at a quick-step, go! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_To the_ GREY HEN.] Are you coming? + +THE GREY HEN +Not a word! I intend to stay behind, to see the Cuckoo. [_She hides +behind the basket._] + +CHANTECLER +You, little tufted hen, was it just my fancy that you looked sulky +falling into line? + +THE TUFTED HEN +[_Going up to him._] Cock-- + +CHANTECLER +What is it? + +THE TUFTED HEN +I, who am nearest to your heart-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Quickly._] Hush! + +THE TUFTED HEN +It annoys me not to be told-- + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Who has drawn near on the other side._] Cock-- + +CHANTECLER +Well? + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Coaxingly._] I who am your favourite-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Quickly._] Hush! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Caressingly._] I want to know-- + +THE BLACK HEN +[_Who has softly drawn near._] Cock-- + +CHANTECLER +What? + +THE BLACK HEN +Your special and tender regard for me-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Quickly._] Hush! + +THE BLACK HEN +Tell me, do-- + +THE WHITE HEN +--the secret-- + +THE TUFTED HEN +--of your song? [_Going still closer to him, in a voice thrilled with +curiosity._] I do believe that you have in your throat a little copper +contrivance-- + +CHANTECLER +That's it, that's what I have, very carefully concealed! + +THE WHITE HEN +[_Same business._] Most likely, like great tenors one has heard of, you +gulp raw eggs-- + +CHANTECLER +You have guessed!--A second Ugolino! + +THE BLACK HEN +[_Same business._] My idea is that taking snails out of their shells, +you pound them to a paste-- + +CHANTECLER +And make them into troches! Exactly! + +ALL THREE HENS +Cock--! + +CHANTECLER +Off with you all! Be off! [_The_ HENS _hastily start, he calls them +back._] 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. [_They are leaving, he again calls them +back._] And remember, when chickens go to the-- + +A HEN +--fields-- + +CHANTECLER +--the foremost-- + +THE HENS ALL TOGETHER +--walks ahead! + +CHANTECLER +You may go! [_They are again starting, he peremptorily calls them +back._] A word! [_In a stern voice._] Never when crossing the road stop +to peck! [_The_ HENS _bow in obedience._] Now let me see you cross! + +A HORN +[_In the distance._] Honk! Honk! Honk! + +CHANTECLER +[_Rushing in front of the_ HENS _and spreading his wings before them._] +Not yet! + +THE HORN +[_Very near, accompanied by a terrific snorting._] Honk! Honk! Honk! + +CHANTECLER +[_Barring the_ HENS' _passage, while everything shakes._] Wait! + +THE HORN +[_Far away._] Honk! Honk! Honk! + +CHANTECLER +[_Standing aside for them to pass._] You can safely go! + +THE GREY HEN +[_From her hiding-place._] He has not seen me! + +THE TUFTED HEN +You may think this is fun! Now everything we eat will taste of gasoline! + + + +SCENE THIRD + +CHANTECLER, _the_ BLACKBIRD _in his cage, the_ CAT _still asleep on the +wall, the_ GREY HEN _behind the_ OLD HEN'S _basket._ + + +CHANTECLER +[_To himself, after a pause._] 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 [_Shaking his feathers._] just rejoice in being a +rooster! [_He struts up and down._] 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-- + +A VOICE +[_Loud and gruff._] Beware, Chantecler! + +CHANTECLER +What silly beast is bidding me beware? + + + +SCENE FOURTH + +THE SAME, PATOU. + + +PATOU +[_Barking inside his kennel._] I! I! I! + +CHANTECLER +[_Retreating._] Is it you, Patou, good shaggy head starting out of the +dark, with straws caught among your eyelashes? + +PATOU +Which do not prevent my seeing what is plain as that hen-house rrrroof! + +CHANTECLER +Cross? + +PATOU +Grrrrrrr-- + +CHANTECLER +When he rolls his r's like that he is very cross indeed. + +PATOU +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. + +CHANTECLER +Your humour? Your dogma, suspicion is! Call it your _dog_ma! + +PATOU +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. + +CHANTECLER +But you are no rat-terrier! + +PATOU +[_Shaking his head._] Chantecler, how do we know? + +CHANTECLER +[_Considering him._] Your appearance is in fact peculiar What actually +is your breed? + +PATOU +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! + +CHANTECLER +Then what a sum of goodness must be stored in you! + +PATOU +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-- + +CHANTECLER +You lie on the earth and sleep in the sun! + +PATOU +[_With a pleased yap._] Aye! + +CHANTECLER +We have ever had in common our love for those two things. + +PATOU +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! + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE OLD HEN +[_Lifting the basket-lid with her head._] The egg looks like marble +until it gets smashed! [_The lid drops._] + +CHANTECLER +[_To_ PATOU.] What dangers, friend? + +PATOU +There are two. First, in yonder cage-- + +CHANTECLER +Well? + +PATOU +That satirical whistling. + +CHANTECLER +What about it? + +PATOU +Pernicious. + +CHANTECLER +In what way? + +PATOU +In every way! + +CHANTECLER +[_Ironical._] Bad as all that, is it? [_The_ PEACOCK'S _squall is heard +in the distance: "Ee--yong!"_] + +PATOU +And then that cry, the Peacock's! + +[_The_ PEACOCK, _further off: "Ee--yong!"_] + +PATOU +More out of tune all by itself than a whole village singing society! + +CHANTECLER +Come, what have they done to you, that whistler and that posturer? + +PATOU +[_Grumbling._] 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! [_The +_ BLACKBIRD _is heard tentatively whistling, "How sweet to fare +afield"._] 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! + +CHANTECLER +[_Indulgently._] Come, he whistles his tune like many another! + +PATOU +[_Unwillingly agreeing, in a drawling growl._] Ye-e-es, but he never +whistles it to the end! + +CHANTECLER +[_Watching the_ BLACKBIRD _hopping about._] A light-hearted fellow! + +PATOU +[_Same business._] Ye-e-es, but he lies heavy on our hearts. A bird who +takes his exercise indoors! + +CHANTECLER +You must own he is intelligent! + +PATOU +[_In a longer, more hesitant growl._] 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! + +CHANTECLER +Taste, my dear fellow, he unmistakably has! + +PATOU +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. + +CHANTECLER +You will admit at least that he has an original fancy. No denying that +he is amusing. + +PATOU +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? + +CHANTECLER +His mind has a diverting, unexpected turn-- + +PATOU +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! + +CHANTECLER +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-- + +PATOU +Like a beastly little undertaker who, after burying Faith, hops with +relief and glee! + +CHANTECLER +There, there! You make him blacker than he is! + +PATOU +I do believe a blackbird is just a misfit crow! + +CHANTECLER +His diminutive size, however-- + +PATOU +[_Vigorously shaking his ears._] 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! + +CHANTECLER +[_Amused at_ PATOU'S _violence._] The blackbird in short is wicked, +stupid, ugly-- + +PATOU +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--" + +CHANTECLER +But what harm does he do? + +PATOU +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! + +CHANTECLER +Come, Patou!-- + +PATOU +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! + +CHANTECLER +[_Surprised at_ PATOU'S _having lowered his voice to utter the last +words._] Why do you drop your voice? + +PATOU +You see?--If we speak of stars nowadays we must do it in a whisper! [_He +lays his head on his paws in deep dejection._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Comforting him._] Be not downcast! + +PATOU +[_Lifting his head again._] No, it is too silly and too weak! I'll shout +it if I please! [_He howls with the whole power of his lungs._] +Stars!--[_Then in a tone of relief._] There, I feel better! + +CHICKENS +[_Passing at the back, mocking._] Stars!--Ho! Stars for ours! Stars! +[_They go off, fooling and giggling._] + +PATOU +Hear them! Our pullets will be whistling soon like blackbirds! + +CHANTECLER +[_Proudly strutting up and down._] What care I? I sing, and have on my +side the Hens. + +PATOU +Trust not to the hearts of Hens--or of crowds. You are too willing to +take the price of your singing in lip-service. + +CHANTECLER +But love--love is glory awarded in kisses! + +PATOU +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!--[_Roaring in +sudden wrath._] For whom?--For whom, do you suppose? + +CHANTECLER +[_Retreating._] You alarm me! + +PATOU +For a low-down dachshund who trod on his own ears! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Who has overheard_ PATOU'S _last words, sticking his head between the +bars of his cage._] Still harping on the dachshund, is he? What's the +odds, old chappie? You were the goat!--How does being the goat matter? + +PATOU +But you up there, scoffing at everything, who are you, may one ask? + +BLACKBIRD +I'm the pet of the poultry yard! + +PATOU +Bad luck is what you'll bring them! + +BLACKBIRD +A prophecy-sharp?--Say, wisteria, we are twisted up with laughter! [_He +comes out of his cage and hops to the ground._] + +PATOU +[_As he approaches_] Grrrrrrr-- + +CHANTECLER +Hush! He's a friend! + +PATOU +A false one. + +CHANTECLER +[_To_ BLACKBIRD.] Fine things we learn when the talk is of you! + +THE OLD HEN +[_Her head protruding from the basket._] Strike rotten wood, and see the +wood-lice scatter! [_The basket-lid drops._] + +PATOU +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] He laughs at you behind your back! + +BLACKBIRD +[_To_ PATOU.] Ha, retriever, you retrieve? + +PATOU +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! + +CHANTECLER +So that's what you say? + +BLACKBIRD +[_Affecting simplicity._] You surely don't mind? How can it affect you? +And a joke about you is always so sure of success! + +PATOU +[_To the_ BLACKBIRD.] Point-blank, do you admire or despise the Cock? + +BLACKBIRD +I make fun of him in spots, but admire him in lump! + +PATOU +You always peck two kinds of seed. + +THE BLACKBIRD +My cage has two seed-cups, you see. + +PATOU +I am single-minded and downright! + +THE BLACKBIRD +You--are an old poodle of the year 48! I am an up-to-date bird! + +PATOU +[_Gruffly._] Out of my way! lest I give your black coat red tails! +[_The_ BLACKBIRD _nimbly gets out of the way,_ PATOU _goes into his +kennel grumbling._] I'll show him some up-to-date jaws! + +CHANTECLER +Be quiet! It's his way. The truth is that if once he stood in the +presence of beauty, this very Blackbird would applaud! + +PATOU +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? + +BLACKBIRD +He never seems to suspect that the poacher is a blackguardly sort of +brute! + +PATOU +What I know is that the underbrush is all a delicate golden gloom-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +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-- + +PATOU +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? + +THE BLACKBIRD +No, old chap--but the stag, you see, is just another kind of a hat-rack! + +PATOU +Oh, but freedom, freedom, with violets looking on! Love!-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +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--[_At_ PATOU'S +_significant start and growl, he springs aside, finishing._] You can +sling mud upon me, I have a porcelain bath! + +CHANTECLER +[_Slightly out of patience._] Why not make a practice of talking simply +and to the point? + +THE BLACKBIRD +I like to make you sit up, and watch you blinking. + +PATOU +Grrrrr--in the plain interest of public decency, I say it behooves us-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +Don't say behooves, say it's up to you, old chap! + +CHANTECLER +What's all this juggling with words? + +THE BLACKBIRD +The thing, Chantecler, quite the thing! I knew a city sparrow once, and +it's the way they talk in fashionable circles. + +CHANTECLER +I was well acquainted with a little red-breast, who lived beneath a city +poet's eaves; he did not talk like you. + +THE BLACKBIRD +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. + +PATOU +I froth at the mouth! Smart,--there's the Peacock's password! + +CHANTECLER +Oh, the Peacock, by the way, what is he doing these days? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Ogling with his tail-feathers! + +PATOU +Baneful his example has been to many an humble heart. + +CHANTECLER +What signs do you see of his influence? + +PATOU +A thousand nothings. + +THE OLD HEN +[_Appearing._] Bubbles floating down the stream tell of laundresses up +stream! [_The lid drops._] + +CHANTECLER +I am sure I have not seen the smallest bubble from which-- + +PATOU +[_Indicating a_ GUINEA-PIG, _who is passing._] See there, that +Guinea-pig-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Considering him._] What about him? He is just a yellow Guinea-pig! + +GUINEA-PIG +[_Snippily correcting._] Khaki, if you please! + +CHANTECLER +[_To_ PATOU.] Kha--? + +PATOU +A bubble!--And yonder waddling duck-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking at him._] He is going to take his bath-- + +THE DUCK +[_Drily._] My tub! + +CHANTECLER +His--? + +PATOU +A bubble! + +[_A long grating noise is heard within the house Crrrrrrr, then._] + +THE CLOCK +Cuckoo! + +THE GREY HEN +[_Leaving her hiding-place and running towards the cat-hole._] His +voice!--Now through the kitty's little door I finally shall see him! +[_She thrusts her head into the hole. The_ CUCKOO'S _call is not +repeated._] Oh, deary, deary me! I am too late! [_Calling._] +Bis! Encore! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning around at the noise._] Eh? + +THE GREY HEN +[_Desperately, with her head in the cat-hole._] He has stopped! + +THE BLACKBIRD +It was the half-hour. + +CHANTECLER +[_Close behind the_ GREY HEN, _abruptly._] How does it happen, my love, +that we are not in the fields? + +THE GREY HEN +[_Turning, scared._] Goodness gracious! + +CHANTECLER +What are we doing, my love, in the cat-hole? + +THE GREY HEN +[_Upset._] I was just taking a peep-- + +CHANTECLER +To see whom? + +THE GREY HEN +[_More and more upset._] Oh--! + +CHANTECLER +[_Dramatically._] Who is it? + +THE GREY HEN +Oh-- + +CHANTECLER +Confess! + +THE GREY HEN +[_In the voice of a woman caught in guilt._] The Cuckoo! + +CHANTECLER +[_Amazed._] You love him?--But wherefore? + +THE GREY HEN +[_Drops her eyes, then with emotion._] He is Swiss! + +PATOU +A bubble! + +THE GREY HEN +He is a thinker. He takes his airing-- + +CHANTECLER +She loves a clock! + +THE GREY HEN +--always takes his airing at the same hour, like Kant. + +CHANTECLER +Like what? + +THE GREY HEN +Like Kant. + +CHANTECLER +Did one ever--! Out of my sight! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Trot, Kant you? + +[THE GREY HEN _hurries off._] + +CHANTECLER +Here's a pretty--Wherever did she learn that Kant--? + +PATOU +At the Guinea-hen's. + +CHANTECLER +That foolish old party of the crazy cries and the white-plastered beak? + +PATOU +She has taken a day. + +CHANTECLER +A day off, do you mean? + +PATOU +No, a day at home. + +CHANTECLER +A day at--Where does she receive? + +THE BLACKBIRD +In a corner of the kitchen-garden. + +PATOU +Under the auspices of that strawman with the unsavoury old top-hat. + +CHANTECLER +The scarecrow? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Yes, his being there makes the affair select. + +CHANTECLER +[_Bewildered._] How is that? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Don't you see? He scares off all the puny fowl--. Poor relations are not +wanted at a function. + +CHANTECLER +So the Guinea-hen has a day! + +PATOU +[_Phlegmatically._] A bubble! + +CHANTECLER +A balloon! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Imitating the_ GUINEA-HEN.] Mondays, my dear-- + +CHANTECLER +And what do they do at that feather-brain's parties? + +PATOU +Cluck and cackle. The Turkey-cock airs his social gifts, the Chick gets +into society. + +BLACKBIRD +[_Imitating the_ GUINEA-HEN.] From five to six-- + +CHANTECLER +Evening? + +PATOU +No, morning. + +CHANTECLER +What--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +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. + +CHANTECLER +What nonsense! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Quite so. + +PATOU +You needn't talk. You go to her teas. + +CHANTECLER +He goes--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Yes, I am one of their ornaments. + +PATOU +And I am not so sure but that some day-- + +CHANTECLER +What are you mumbling to your brass-studded collar? + +PATOU +--some Hen may get you too to go! + +CHANTECLER +Me? + +PATOU +You! + +CHANTECLER +Me?-- + +PATOU +Led by the end of your beak. + +CHANTECLER +[_In high wrath._] Me?-- + +PATOU +For when a new Hen heaves in sight, you can't help yourself, you +know--you lose your balance-wheel-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +You slowly circumambulate the fair one--[_He imitates the_ COCK _walking +around a_ HEN.] "Yes, it's me.--Here I am!" And you say, "Coa--" + +CHANTECLER +I never knew a more idiotic bird! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Continuing to mimic him._] You let your wing hang, sentimentally--your +foot performs a sort of stately jig--[_A shot is heard._] Ha! I don't +like that! + +PATOU +[_Starts up quivering, and scents the air._] Poaching Julius is at his +tricks again! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Dog, it seems to stimulate you agreeably! + +PATOU +[_With ears up-pricked and shining eyes._] Yes! [_Suddenly, as if +controlling himself, passionately._] No--! + +THE BLACKBIRD +What affects you so? + +PATOU +Oh, horrible, horrible! A poor little partridge perhaps-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +Is that streaming eye, my friend, a result of age or rheumatism? + +PATOU +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! [_Another shot._] + +CHANTECLER +Again? + + + +SCENE FIFTH + +THE SAME, A GOLDEN PHEASANT, _later_ BRIFFAUT. + + +A GOLDEN PHEASANT +[_Flying suddenly over the wall, and dropping in the yard, mad with +fright._] Hide me! + +CHANTECLER +Heavens! + +PATOU +A golden pheasant! + +GOLDEN PHEASANT +Is this great Chantecler? + +THE BLACKBIRD +All over the shop, we're famous! + +GOLDEN PHEASANT +[_Running hither and thither._] Save me, if you are he! + +CHANTECLER +I am!--Rely on me! + +[_Another shot._] + +GOLDEN PHEASANT +[_Jumping and casting himself on_ CHANTECLER.] Merciful powers! + +CHANTECLER +But what a nervous bird it is--a golden pheasant! + +GOLDEN PHEASANT +I have no breath left! I ran too hard!-[_Faints._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +Puff!--Out goes his light! + +CHANTECLER +[_Upholding the_ PHEASANT _with one wing._] How beautiful he is, with +drooping neck and softly ruffled throat-feathers! [_He runs to the +drinking-trough._] Water!--One almost hesitates to dim such beauty with +a wetting--[_He splashes him vigorously with his other wing._] + +THE GOLDEN PHEASANT +[_Coming to._] I am pursued! Oh, hide me! + +THE BLACKBIRD +"And the villain still--" Here's melodrama! + +[_To the_ PHEASANT.] How the dickens did he manage to miss you? + +THE PHEASANT +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--[_Seeing_ PATOU _he +quickly adds._] I am speaking of a hunting-dog! [_To_ CHANTECLER.] +Hide me! + +CHANTECLER +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? + +PATOU +There by the bench with the beehives stands my green cottage, very much +at your service.--Go in, I pray! [_The_ GOLDEN PHEASANT _goes in, but +his long tail projects._] There is too much of this golden vanity!--The +tip is still in sight.--I shall have to sit on it. + +[BRIFFAUT _appears above the wall. Long hanging ears and quivering +chops._] + +PATOU +[_To_ BRIFFAUT, _affecting unconcern._] Good afternoon! + +BRIFFAUT +[_Snuffing._] Humph, what a good smell! + +PATOU +[_Pointing to his bowl._] My poor dinner! Soup with seasonable vegetables. + +BRIFFAUT +[_Hurriedly._] Have you seen a pheasant-hen go by? + +PATOU +[_In astonishment, reflecting._] A pheasant-hen,--? + +CHANTECLER +[_Walking about, with an assumption of gaiety._] Impressive, isn't he, +Briffaut there? with his look of a thoroughbred old Englishman! + +PATOU +No, but I saw a pheasant. + +BRIFFAUT +That was she! + +PATOU +A pheasant-hen wears dun. This was a golden pheasant He went off towards +the meadow. + +BRIFFAUT +It is she! + +CHANTECLER +[_Going towards him, incredulous._] A pheasant-hen with golden plumage? + +BRIFFAUT +Ah, you do not know what sometimes happens? + +CHANTECLER _and_ PATOU +No. + +THE BLACKBIRD +We are in for a hunting yarn!--Give me chloroform! + +BRIFFAUT +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-- + +PATOU +What happens? + +BRIFFAUT +That the pheasant-hen--Ah, my dear fellows--! + +CHANTECLER +[_Stamping with impatience._] The pheasant-hen what?--what? + +BRIFFAUT +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-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +And it makes her sore! + +BRIFFAUT +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! [_He sketches with +his paw a slightly disrespectful gesture._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Dryly._] Pray, what do you know about it? + +BRIFFAUT +[_Astonished._] Is he annoyed? + +PATOU +[_Aside._] Already! + +CHANTECLER +In short, the pheasant your master missed-- + +BRIFFAUT +Was a she!--[_He stops and scents the air._] Oh but!-- + +PATOU +[_Quickly, showing his dish._] You know, it's my dinner you smell! + +BRIFFAUT +It smells very unusually good. + +CHANTECLER +[_Aside._] I don't like that way his nose has of twitching. + +BRIFFAUT +[_Starting upon another story._] Fancy such an instance as the following-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +Holy Smoke! Here comes another!--Oh, I say, hire a hall! + +[_A distant whistle is heard._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Quickly._] You are whistled for! + +BRIFFAUT +The deuce! Good evening! [_Disappears._] + +PATOU +Good evening. + +CHANTECLER +Gone, at last! + +BLACKBIRD +[_Calling._] Briffaut! + +CHANTECLER +Great Glory, what are you doing? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Calling._] I have something to tell you! + +BRIFFAUT +[_His head reappears above the wall._] Well--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Look out, Briffaut! + +CHANTECLER +[_Low to the_ BLACKBIRD.] Do you make sport of our fears? + +THE BLACKBIRD +You are losing something! + +BRIFFAUT +What? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Time! + +BRIFFAUT +[_Disappearing with a snort of fury._] Wow! + + + + +SCENE SIXTH + +CHANTECLER, THE BLACKBIRD, PATOU, THE PHEASANT-HEN + + +CHANTECLER +[_After a moment, to the_ BLACKBIRD _who from his cage, which he has +returned, can see off over the wall._] Is he gone? + +THE BLACKBIRD +He is nearly out of sight! + +CHANTECLER +[_Going toward_ PATOU'S _kennel._] Madam, come forth! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Appearing at the threshold of the kennel._] 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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Whew! We hate ourself, don't we! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +In the forest where I live there comes a-poaching-- + +CHANTECLER +That madman who would have given to vile lead a jewel for setting! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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! + +PATOU +You? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The Pheasant! + +PATOU +[_Politely correcting her._] Pheasant-hen. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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! + +CHANTECLER +She is distractingly lovely, so much is certain! + +PATOU +He is never going to fall in love with a woman dressed as a man! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Who has again hopped down from his cage._] 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! [_Off._] + +CHANTECLER +So you come to us from the East, like the Dawn? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +My life has the picturesque disorder of a poem. If I came from the East, +it was by way of Egypt. + +PATOU +[_Aside, heart-broken._] A gypsy, on top of the rest! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER, _tossing and twisting her head so that the colours +ripple at her throat._] 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-- + +PATOU +[_In consternation._] She is mad! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Wild as a tree-bough in a southerly gale, I tremble, flutter, spend +myself in motion, till a vast languor overtakes me-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Who for a minute or so has been letting his wing hang, now begins +slowly circling about the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _in the manner of the_ +BLACKBIRD _aping him, with a very gentle, throaty._] Coa--[_The_ +PHEASANT-HEN _looks at him. Believing himself encouraged, he takes up +again louder, while circling about her._] Coa-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +My dear sir, I prefer to tell you at once that if it is for my benefit +you are doing that-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Stopping short._] What? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The eye--the peculiar gait--the drooping wing--the "Coa--" + +CHANTECLER +But I-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You do it all very nicely, I admit; only, it has not the very slightest +effect upon me! + +CHANTECLER +[_Slightly abashed._] Madam-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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-- + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I do not bestow my affections quite so lightly. For my taste, anyhow, +you are altogether too frankly Cock of the Walk! + +CHANTECLER +Too--? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Spoiled! The only Cock to my fancy would be a plain inglorious Cock to +whom I should be all in all. + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Love a celebrated Cock? I am not such a very woman! + +CHANTECLER +But--well--still--We might, however, Madam, take a little stroll together! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Yes, like two friends. + +CHANTECLER +Two friends. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Two chickens. + +CHANTECLER +Very old! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Quickly._] No, no--not old! Very ugly! + +CHANTECLER +[_Quicker still._] Oh, no, not ugly! [_Coming nearer to her._] Will you +take a turn in the yard?--Accept my wing! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You shall show me the sights. + +CHANTECLER +[_Stopping before the_ CHICKENS' _drinking-trough._]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-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Returning._] The Guinea-hen is having a fit! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER, _looking about her._] And so you live here untroubled, +and have nothing to fear? + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE BLACKBIRD +The showman's on the job! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Indicating the_ BLACKBIRD.] And that? + +CHANTECLER +Our humorist. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What does he do? + +CHANTECLER +Oh, he keeps busy! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Doing what? + +CHANTECLER +Trying never to appear a fool, and that's hard work. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Possibly--but most unattractive! [_They move towards the back._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_With a glance at the_ PHEASANT-HEN'S _scarlet breast._] Size up the +highfalutin' dame!--Get on to the waistcoat will you? + +CHANTECLER +[_Continuing the round._] 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. + +PHEASANT-HEN +Your song then is a matter of importance? + +CHANTECLER +[_Seriously._] The greatest. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Why? + +CHANTECLER +That is my secret. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +If I should ask you to tell me? + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning the conversation, and showing a pile of brushwood tied in +bundles._] My friends, the fagots. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Stolen from my forest!--So what they say is true?--you have a secret? + +CHANTECLER +[_Dryly._] Yes, Madam. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I suppose it would be useless to insist-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Climbing on the wall at the back._] 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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What?--This is all? + +CHANTECLER +This is all. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And do you imagine the world ends at your vegetable-patch? + +CHANTECLER +No. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Do you never, as you watch, far overhead, the wedge of the south-flying +birds, dream of vaster horizons? + +CHANTECLER +No. + +PHEASANT-HEN +But all these things about you are dreary and poor and flat! + +CHANTECLER +And I can never become used to the richness and wonder of these things! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +It is always the same, you must agree! + +CHANTECLER +Nothing is ever the same,--nothing,--ever,--under the sun! And that +because of the sun!--For _She_ changes everything! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +She--Who? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Thoughtfully._] 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? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE OLD HEN +[_Appearing._] None knows the heavens like the water in the well! + +CHANTECLER +[_Presenting her to the _PHEASANT-HEN_ before the basket-lid drops._] My +foster-mother! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Politely approaching._] Delighted! + +THE OLD HEN +[_Slyly winking at her._] He's a fine Cock! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +He is a Cock, moreover, for whom that fact is not the only thing in the +world! + +CHANTECLER +[_Who has gone toward_ PATOU.] There, my dear boy, is a Hen with whom +one can have a bit of solid conversation. + + + +SCENE SEVENTH + +THE SAME, _the_ GUINEA-HEN, _and the whole_ POULTRY-YARD + +_Cries outside, nearer and nearer,_ "Ah!--" _Enter all the_ HENS _in +tumult, preceded by the agitated_ GUINEA-HEN. + + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_In his cage._] The next course will be Guinea-hen! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Running to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Ah, my dear, my dear, my dear!--A +beauty, a very beauty!--We have come to make your acquaintance, my dear! + +[_General admiration,_ "Ah!--" _The_ PHEASANT-HEN _is surrounded. +Conversation, cries, clucking._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Watching the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _aside._] How well she walks, with free +and graceful gait!--[_He looks at the_ HENS.] So differently from my +Hens! [_Irritably, to the_ HENS.] Ladies, you walk as if you had +blisters! You walk as if you trod on your own eggs! + +PATOU +No mistaking the symptoms! He is very much in love. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Presenting her son to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] The Guinea-cock, my son. + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +[_Looking admiringly at the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] What a jolly shade of blond! + +A HEN +[_Disparagingly._] Like butter! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning, dryly to the_ HENS.] It is time you went indoors. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Amiably._] So soon? + +CHANTECLER +They retire early. + +A HEN +[_A little mortified._] Yes, we must turn in. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +They go in by a ladder! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Let us be great friends, my dear, shall we? + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking at the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _aside._] Her sumptuous court-dress sets +her apart from the rest, and removes her far above.--My Hens +are dowdies! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To the_ GUINEA-HEN, _excusing herself._] I return to my forest home +to-night. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_In excessive grief._] So soon--? [_A shot in the distance._] + +PATOU +They are still after game. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +You must stay. + +CHANTECLER +[_Eagerly._] That's it! Let us keep her a prisoner among us till to-morrow. + +PHEASANT-HEN +But where can I spend the night? + +PATOU +[_Indicating his kennel._] There, in my bachelor's quarters. + +PHEASANT-HEN +I?--Sleep beneath a roof? + +PATOU +[_Insisting._] Go in, I pray. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But you? What shall you do? + +PATOU +I shall do very well! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Resigning herself._] I will stay then until to-morrow. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_With piercing cries._] Ah! Ah! But to-morrow, my dear! to-morrow-- + +ALL +[_In alarm._] What is it? + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +To-morrow is my mother's day! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Impetuously._] My dear, would you care to come to-morrow quite +informally, and take a simple snail with us? The Peacock-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Mounting the ladder, from whence he can inspect the scene._] Quiet, if +you please! Evening has blown its smoke across the sky--[_In a tone of +command._] Is every one in his accustomed place? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Lower, to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] The Peacock is coming. We shall hold our +little gathering among the currant-bushes. + +CHANTECLER +Are the turkeys on their roost? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Same business._] From five to six. + +CHANTECLER +Are the ducks in their pointed house? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Same business._] The Tortoise has kindly said we may expect her. + +PHEASANT-HEN +Indeed? + +CHANTECLER +[_On the last rung of the ladder._] Is every one under cover?--Every +chick under a wing? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Still insisting with the_ PHEASANT-HEN _that she come on the morrow._] +The Tufted Hen has promised to bring the Cock.--[_To_ CHANTECLER.] +Charmed, I am sure. + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +THE TUFTED HEN +[_Looking out of the hen-house._] You will come, won't you, dear? + +CHANTECLER +No. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_At the foot of the ladder, looking up at him._] Oh, but you will? + +CHANTECLER +Why? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Because you said "No!" to the other! + +CHANTECLER +[_Wavering._] Ah! + +PATOU +Humph! I beseech you-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Still wavering._] I-- + +PATOU +Humph! He is weakening.--They will make him pay dear if he yields! + +THE OLD HEN +[_Appearing._] Make a reed into a pipe and play a tune upon it! [_The +basket-lid drops._] + +[_Night is thickening._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Still hesitating._] I-- + +A VOICE +Let us go to sleep-- + +THE TURKEY +[_On his roost, solemnly._] _Quandoque dormitat_-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_In his cage._] Dormittimus! + +CHANTECLER +[_Very firmly to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] I will not go. Good night. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Slightly offended._] Good night! [_With a curt hop she enters the +dog-kennel._] + +PATOU +[_Falling asleep, stretched in front of his kennel._] Let us sleep until +the sky grows pink--pink as--as--a puppy's tummy-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Dropping off._] From five to six-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Likewise dropping off._] Tew--tew--[_He nods._] tew-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Still at the top of the ladder._] All sleeps.--[_He spies a_ CHICK +_stealing out._] Is that a chick I see?--[_Springing after him and +driving him in._] Let me catch you!--[_In driving back the_ CHICK, _he +finds himself near the kennel. He calls very softly._] Pheasant-hen! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Lost among the straw, sleepily._] What do you want? + +CHANTECLER +[_After a moment's hesitation._] Nothing.--Nothing! [_He goes back to +the top of his ladder._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Shall I be able to sleep, I wonder-- + +PATOU +[_Falling sound asleep._] A puppy's tum-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Indistinctly, overcome by slumber._] To sleep under a roof?--I, with +my gypsy tastes? + +CHANTECLER +I am going in. [_He disappears in the hen-house. He is heard saying in a +dreamy voice._] It is time to shut my--my-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In a last effort._]--gyp--sy--tastes.--[_Her head nods and disappears +among the straw._] + +CHANTECLER +[_His voice, sleepier and fainter._]--to shut my eyes--[_Silence. He +sleeps. Two green eyes are seen suddenly kindling at the top of +the wall._] + +THE CAT +And to open mine! [_Immediately two more yellow eyes shine forth from +the darkness above the hay-cock._] + +A VOICE +And mine! [_Two more yellow eyes on the wall._] + +ANOTHER VOICE +And mine! [_Two more yellow eyes._] + +ANOTHER VOICE +And mine! + + + +SCENE EIGHTH + +_The_ POULTRY-YARD _asleep. The_ CAT _awake. Three_ SCREECH-OWLS, +_later the_ MOLE _and the_ VOICE _of the_ CUCKOO. + + +FIRST VOICE +Two green eyes? + +THE CAT +[_Sitting up on the wall, and looking at the other phosphorescent +eyes._] Six golden eyes? + +FIRST VOICE +On the wall? + +THE CAT +On the rick?--[_He calls._] Owls! + +THE OWLS +Cat! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Waking up._] What's this? + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_To the_ CAT.] Great plot against him! + +THE CAT +To-night? + +THE THREE OWLS +To-night, too-whit! + +THE CAT +Pfitt!--Where? + +THE OWLS +The hollies, too-whoo! + +THE CAT +What o'clock? + +THE OWLS +Eight, too-whit! too-whoo! + +FIRST OWL +Bats weaving soft black snares of flight-- + +THE CAT +Are they with us? + +THE THREE OWLS +They are! + +FIRST OWL +Mole, burrowing from nether to upper night-- + +THE CAT +Is she with us? + +THE THREE OWLS +She is! + +THE CAT +[_Talking toward the house-door._] You, strike your eight strokes +bravely, Cuckoo of the little clock! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Is he with us? + +THE CAT +He is!--And I am pleased to tell you, silent night-watchers that some of +the day-birds are likewise with us. + +THE TURKEY +[_Coming forward surrounded by a number of the barnyard constituents, +obsequiously._] So it is settled for this evening, dear Round Eyes? You +will be there? + +THE OWLS +We will be there! All the Round Eyes of the neighbourhood will be there! + +THE BLACKBIRD +That's a show I'd like to see! + +PATOU +[_In his sleep._] Grrrrrrr-- + +THE CAT +[_To the startled_ NIGHT-BIRDS.] The dog is dreaming.--He growls in his +sleep. + +CHANTECLER +[_Inside the hen-house._] Coa-- + +THE OWLS +[_Frightened._] Himself! + +THE TURKEY +Fly! + +FIRST OWL +No need. The night is dark. We can vanish by merely closing our eyes. +[_They shut their luminous eyes. Darkness._ CHANTECLER _appears at the +top of the ladder._] + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ BLACKBIRD.] Did you hear anything, Blackbird? + +THE BLACKBIRD +I did, indeed, old chap. + +THE OWLS +[_Frightened._] What's this? + +THE BLACKBIRD +A black conspiracy-- + +CHANTECLER +Ah? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_With melodramatic emphasis._] Against you!--Tremble! + +CHANTECLER +[_Going in again, unalarmed._] Joker! + +THE OWLS +He has gone in. + +THE BLACKBIRD +I have betrayed no one! + +AN OWL +The Blackbird then is with us? + +THE BLACKBIRD +No--but may I come and look on? + +AN OWL +A Night-bird never eats a black bird. You can come. + +THE BLACKBIRD +The password? + +THE OWL +Terror and Talons! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Putting her head out of the dog-kennel._] I can't breathe in that +stifling, low-roofed little house, and--[_Catching sight of the_ +NIGHT-BIRDS.] Oh!--[_She darts aside, behind the kennel, and watches._] + +THE OWLS +Hush! [_They close their eyes._ THE CAT _does the same. After a time, +hearing no further sound, they open them again._] It was nothing. Let +us be off. + +THE GROUP OF THE DISAFFECTED +[_With fawning obsequiousness to the_ NIGHT-BIRDS.] Success to you, +Owls,--success! + +THE OWL +Thanks! But how is it that you are with us? + +THE CAT +Ah, night brings out what daylight will not own to! I do not like the +Cock because the Dog does.--There you have it! + +THE TURKEY +I do not like him, for the reason that having known him as a Chick I +cannot admit him as a Cock! + +A DUCK +I do not like the Cock because, not being web-footed, he marks his +passage by a track of stars! + +A CHICKEN +I do not like the Cock because I'm such a homely bird! + +ANOTHER CHICKEN +I do not like the Cock because he has his picture painted in purple on +all the plates! + +ANOTHER CHICKEN +I do not like the Cock because on all the steeples he has his statue in +gilt-bronze! + +AN OWL +[_To a big overgrown_ CHICKEN.] Well, well!--And you, Capon? + +THE CAPON +[_Dryly._] I do not like the Cock! + +THE CUCKOO +[_Beginning to strike eight inside the house._] Cuckoo! + +FIRST OWL +The hour! + +CUCKOO +Cuckoo! + +SECOND OWL +Let us go! + +THE CUCKOO +Cuckoo! + +FIRST OWL +The moon! + +THE CUCKOO +Cuckoo! + +FIRST OWL +Silently cleave the blue air-- + +THE CUCKOO +Cuckoo! + +THE MOLE +[_Suddenly pushing up through the ground._]--the dark earth! + +FIRST OWL +There comes the Mole! + +THE CUCKOO +Cuckoo! + +FIRST OWL +[_To the_ MOLE.] And you, why do you hate him? + +THE MOLE +I hate him because I have never seen him! + +THE CUCKOO +Cuckoo! + +FIRST OWL +And you, Cuckoo, do you know why you hate him? + +THE CUCKOO +[_On the last stroke._] Because he does not have to be wound up! Cuckoo! + +FIRST OWL +And we do not love-- + +SECOND OWL +[_Hurriedly._] We are keeping the others waiting-- + +ALL +--the Cock, because--[_They fly off. Silence._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Coming slowly from behind the kennel._] I am beginning to love him! + +CURTAIN + + + + + +ACT SECOND + +THE MORNING OF THE COCK + +_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._ + + +SCENE FIRST + +_The_ NIGHT-BIRDS, _of all sorts and sizes, form a great circle, +perching in tiers on the branches, the briers, the stones; the_ CAT +_crouches in the grass; the_ BLACKBIRD _hops hither and thither on +a fagot._ + +_At the rise of the curtain the_ NIGHT-BIRDS _are discovered, +motionless, black shapes with closed eyes. The_ GRAND DUKE _is perched +upon a tree branch above the rest. The_ SCREECH-OWL'S _phosphorescent +eyes alone are wide open. He proceeds with the roll-call, and at every +name two great round eyes brighten in the dark._ + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_Calling._] Strix! [_Two eyes light up._] Scops! [_Two more eyes light +up._] Grand-Duke! [_Two more eyes._] Metascops! [_Two more eyes._] +Minor! [_Two more eyes._] + +ONE NIGHT-BIRD +[_To the other._] The Great Bubo presides. + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_Calling._] Owl of the Wall! Of the Belfry! Of the Cloister! Of the +Yew! [_At every name two more eyes have opened wide._] + +A NIGHT-BIRD +[_To another just arriving._] The roll is called! + +THE OTHER +I know. All there is to do is to open our eyes. + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Asio! Nictea! Nyctalis! [_Three more pairs of eyes have opened._] +Brachyotus! [_No eye opening at the name, he repeats._] Brachyotus! + +ONE OF THE NIGHT-BIRDS +He will be here directly. He stopped to eat a linnet. + +BRACHYOTUS +[_Arriving._] Present! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Not one of them would miss, when the meeting relates to the Cock! + +BRACHYOTUS +Not one! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Carine! [_Two eyes open._] Caparacoch! [_No eye opening, he repeats +emphatically._] Ca-pa-ra-coch!--Well?--Well? + +CAPARACOCH +[_Arriving out of breath, opens his eyes, faltering an excuse. _] I live +a long way off! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_Dryly._] You should have started the earlier! [_Looking around._] We +are all present, I believe. [_Calling._] Flammeolus! And Flammeoline! +[_All the eyes are now open._] + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Solemnly._] Before beginning, let us give, but not too loud, the cry +which makes us all as one! + +ALL + Long live the Night! + +_And in a weird, savage, hurried chorus, interspersed with hoots and +flapping of wings, all talking together and rocking themselves in +hideous glee._ + + +THE GRAND-DUKE + Praise the Night, discreet, propitious, + When with wadded wing and muted + O'er the sleeping world we fly, + And the partridge in the bracken + Ne'er suspects the hovering presence + Till we pounce without a cry. + +THE SCREECH-OWL + Praise the Night, convenient, secret, + When in slaughtering baby rabbits + We can do it at our ease, + Daub the grass with blood in comfort, + Spare the pains to look like heroes, + Be ourselves where no one sees! + +AN OLD HORNED-OWL + Praise the density of darkness! + +A WOOD-OWL + The intensity of stillness + Letting crunching bones be heard! + +A BARN-OWL + Freshness pleasantly contrasting + With the genial warmth of blood drops + Spurting from a strangled bird! + +THE WOOD-OWL + Praise the black rock oozing terror! + +THE SCREECH-OWL + And the cross-roads where our screeches, + Furrowing the startled air, + Our demoniac yelling, hooting, + Make the hardened unbeliever + Cross himself and fall to prayer! + +THE GRAND-DUKE + Praise the snares of the great Weaver, + Night, whose only fault or weakness + Is her tolerance of stars! + +THE SCREECH-OWL + For spectators are not wanted + At the work of plucking fledglings-- + Be they Jupiter and Mars! + +THE GRAND-DUKE + Praise the Night, when we take vengeance + On the goldfinch for his beauty, + On the titmouse for his grace! + When the darkness takes possession + Let them tremble, those confiding + Hostages of Day's! + +THE WOOD-OWL + For there is a choice in murder! + +THE GRAND-DUKE + And the inkier the blackness + All the clearer do we see + To select the whitest pigeon + In the dove-cote, and the bluest + Blue jay on the shuddering tree! + +THE BARN-OWL + Praise the hour and taste and relish + Of the eggs we suck, destroying + Hopes of many a haughty line! + +THE SCREECH-OWL + And the councils where in whispers + We prepare what shall resemble + Accidents by every sign! + +THE GRAND-DUKE + Praise the shadow's grim suggestions! + The advantage over others + We inherit through their fright! + +THE SCREECH-OWL + For our grisly cachinnations + Give the very eagle goose-flesh-- + +ALL TOGETHER + Praise our patroness, the Night! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +And now let the Screech-Owl in his russet robe take the floor. + +SEVERAL VOICES +Silence! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_On his fagot._] What an awf'ly lovely evening party! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_Oratorically._] Brethren of the Night-- + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_To the_ OWL _next to him._] 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! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Brethren of the Night!-- + +AN OWL +There comes the Mole! + +SEVERAL VOICES +Silence! + +THE OWL +She must have taken, to come here, a route below the roots of the +daisies-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +The subway, what else? + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_To his neighbor._] Is that the Blackbird? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Coming forward._] Yes, your Grace. And the two agate balls over there +are the Cat. + +THE GRAND-DUKE +I can hear him licking his paws. + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_Resuming._] Brethren of the Night! Inasmuch as everybody here--and we +plume ourselves upon it!--is possessed of the evil eye-- + +ALL THE BIRDS +[_Chuckling and rocking in their peculiarly disgusting and +characteristic fashion._] Ha, ha! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Spreading his wings to demand silence._] Hush! [_All return to their +appalling stillness._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +My eye is merely roguish. I am here to look on, you know, without taking +sides,--in the artist spirit, that's all. + +AN OWL +If you are not taking sides, then you are siding with us! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Oh, I say, what a primitive notion! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_Completing his sentence._] Let us express ourselves with simple and +direct malevolence: the Cock is a robber! + +ALL +A robber! He robs us! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Now, what the--Robs you of what? + +THE GRAND-DUKE +Of health! Gladness! + +THE BLACKBIRD +How is that? + +THE SCREECH-OWL +By his crowing! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +His crowing brings on enlargement of the spleen and pericarditis! For it +heralds-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping about._] Oh, I see--The light! + +[_All make a violent motion in his direction; the_ BLACKBIRD +_frightened, hides among the fagots._] + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Emphatically._] Never speak that word! When that word is spoken, Night +at the horizon feels a crawling discomfort, a titillation underneath +her wing. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Cautiously correcting himself._] The brightness of--[_General start +of dismay repeated; the_ BLACKBIRD _again dodges behind the fagots._] + +AN OWL +[_Hurriedly._] Never utter that horrible grating word, which so +hatefully suggests the scratching of a match! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +You should express yourself: The Cock heralds the folding back of the +pall-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +But the day--[_Start and threatening gesture from all._] + +ALL +[_In voices of unspeakable anguish._] Not that word! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +You must refer to it as "that which will be!" + +THE BLACKBIRD +What difference does it make whether or not he heralds the-- + +ALL +[_Stopping him._] Ha! + +THE BLACKBIRD +--the folding back of the pall, since that which will be--will be! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_In tones of despair._] Simple torture it is to hear a brazen throat +forever reminding you of what you know to be only too true! + +ALL +[_Writhing in pain._] Too true! Too true! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +He begins while the night is still pleasant and cool-- + +CRIES ON ALL SIDES +He is a robber, a thief! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +He cheats us! + +ALL THE OWLS +He cheats us! Cheats us! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +Of the good bit of night there still is left. + +AN OWLET +He compels us to leave our posts beside the warrens-- + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Our feasts of steaming flesh! + +THE WOOD-OWL +The witches' routs where we ride perched on the fist of a hag! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +After cock-crow an Owl is no longer in his normal state-- + +THE SCREECH-OWL +He does evil in a hurry! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +And bungles it in consequence! + +THE OLD HORNED-OWL +As soon as the Cock has crowed all becomes temporary provisional-- + +THE BARN-OWL +Though the Night be still black, we are painfully aware of it growing +less and less black! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +When his metallic voice has cleft the night, we squirm like a worm in a +fruit that is cut in two. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_On his fagot, mystified._] The other Cocks, however-- + +THE GRAND-DUKE +Their song creates no uneasiness. It is his song which must be silenced. + +ALL THE NIGHT-BIRDS +[_Flapping their wings, in a long lament._] Silenced! Silenced! + +AN OWL +How can it be accomplished? + +THE SCREECH-OWL +The Blackbird here has worked in our cause. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Who--I? + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Yes, you laughed at him. + +ALL +[_Cackling._] Ha, ha! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Spreading his wings._] Hush! [_They resume their sinister stillness._] + +THE SCREECH-OWL +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. + +ALL +What shall we do? + +THE SCREECH-OWL +The Peacock, that great booby-- + +ALL +[_Cackling and rocking._] Ha, ha! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Opening his wings._] Hush! [_All instantly motionless._] + +THE SCREECH-OWL +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. + +ALL +What shall we do? + +AN OWL +Cut his throat! + +CRIES +Death to the Cock! + +AN OWL +Death to that aristocrat posing as a democrat and socialist! + +ANOTHER +With spurs on his heels, but a liberty cap on his head! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +Night-birds all, arise! + +[ALL, _arising with outspread wings and glaring eyes, increase +enormously in size. The night appears doubly dark._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_With unabated lightness._] Midnight to the fore! + +THE SCREECH-OWL +Kill him! But how can we, when our eyes cease to see the moment he comes +out? + +ALL +[_Wailing like an ancient chorus._] Woe! + +THE OLD HORNED-OWL +[_Craftily._] How kill--from afar? + +THE GRAND-DUKE +By means of what secret spring? + +A VOICE +[_From the tree._] Duke, may I lay a plan before the assembly? + +THE GRAND-DUKE +Scops! Let us hear! + +ALL +[_At sight of a small_ OWL _dropping from a bough, and coming forward +with tiny hops._] Scops, dear little Scops! + +SCOPS +[_Bowing before the_ GRAND-DUKE.] 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-- + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_To his neighbour._] From every strange region! + +SCOPS +Cherishes the dream of presenting these same Cocks to-morrow, in the +kitchen garden, at the-- + +ALL TOGETHER +[_Laughing._] Guinea-hen's! + +SCOPS +And launching among her set these Birds whose glory will be the +finishing blow to the glory of Chantecler. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Flatten him out like a pan cake! + +THE SCREECH OWL +But those Cocks are always locked in! + +SCOPS +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-- + +AN OWL +[_To his neighbour._] What a bright mind, our little Scops! + +SCOPS +At sight of the ill-omened bird-- + +ALL +[_Cackling and rocking._] Ha, ha! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Spreading his wings._] Hush! [_All suddenly still._] + +SCOPS +Fled, with one arm across her eyes! The cage was left open, and the +whole fantastic host will meet Chantecler to-morrow at the-- + +ALL +[_With peals of laughter._] Guinea-hen's! + +THE BLACKBIRD +He is not going. He has refused. + +SCOPS +The devil! + +THE CAT +[_Quietly._] Go on, Scops. He will be there. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Looking at him from a distance._] What do you know about it, pocket +panther? + +THE CAT +I saw a Pheasant-hen exciting his admiration, and I saw that he would +go. + +THE BLACKBIRD +It's when you're sound asleep that you see everything! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_To_ SCOPS.] Very well, then, let us suppose him going. + +SCOPS +Chantecler, for all his fame, has retained his bluff country squire's +frankness. When he sees this-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Prompting._] Tea-fight-- + +SCOPS +And the contortions of those-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Same business._] Snobs-- + +SCOPS +In the presence of those-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Same business._] Big guns-- + +SCOPS +He is sure to say things which they are equally sure to take up. + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Thrilled._] And do you believe that a cock-fight--? + +SCOPS +Such is my fond hope. + +THE CAT +But listen, Scops. Suppose Chantecler should win? + +SCOPS +Know, Angora, that there will be among those fancy cocks a genuine +game-cock, lean, with tawny wing, the same who-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Seeing the_ OWLS _puff out their feathers for joy._] Sensation among +the audience! + +SCOPS +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. + +THE SCREECH-OWL +[_Enthusiastically._] We will go and gloat over his corpse! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Risen to his full height, formidable._] 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! + +ALL +[_With a yell, which ends in their ferocious cackling and rocking._] And +we will eat it,--eat it, ha, ha! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_Spreading his wings._] Hush! [_Dead silence._] + +SCOPS +And after that-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping._] It's quite a tidy proposition as it stands-- + +SCOPS +What? + +THE BLACKBIRD +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. [_He concludes, with four little hops._] For I +know--that all this--will turn out--beautifully! + +SCOPS +[_Ironically._] Beautifully indeed! [_He continues in growing +excitement._] 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! + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_In his neighbour's ear._] And after that we will eat the Blackbird for +dessert. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Who has not caught the last sentence._] What did he say? + +SCOPS +[_Quickly._] Nothing! [_In a still increasing frenzy of glee._] And +after that-- + +[_In the distance: Cock-a-doodle-doo! Instant silence. _SCOPS_ stops +short and collapses, as if mown down. All the puffed _OWLS_ appear +suddenly to have grown thin._] + +ALL +[_Looking at one another and blinking._] What is it? What was that? +[_They hastily spread their wings and call to one another for flight._] +Grand-Duke! Minor! Minimus! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping from one to the other._] Going? So soon? Why, what's your +hurry? + +VOICE +[_Of one of the_ NIGHT-BIRDS _calling to another._] Nyctalis! + +THE BLACKBIRD +It's hours before daybreak. Oceans of time, you have! + +AN OWL +Asio, are you coming? + +ANOTHER OWL +[_Calling._] Nictea! + +ANOTHER +[_Fluttering up to him._] Yes, my dear! [_They all stagger and trip over +their wings._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +What makes them stumble? + +THE NIGHT-BIRDS +[_Winking and blinking with marked evidences of pain._] Oh, how it +hurts! Ow! Ow! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Lightning opthalmia, I declare! [_One by one the_ OWLS _fly off._] + +THE GRAND-DUKE +[_The last to go, spins on himself with a cry of pain and rage._] How +does he contrive, that pernicious Cock, to have a voice that fairly puts +out your eyes! [_He heavily flaps off._] + +VOICES OF THE NIGHT-BIRDS +[_In the distance._] Strix! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Looking after them among the branches, and later in the blue space +over the valley._] They are calling one another! + +VOICE IN THE DISTANCE +Scops! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Bending over the valley, where the dark wings are dwindling and +fading._] They wheel--waver--dip-- + +VOICES +[_Dying in the distance._] Owl of the Wall! Of the Belfry! Of the Yew! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Gone! [_He looks about, gives a hop, and with an immediate return to +levity._] But it's supper-time.--Now for a bite of cold grasshopper! +[_The_ PHEASANT-HEN _suddenly flies over the brushwood tangle, dropping +beside him._] You! + + + +SCENE SECOND + +THE BLACKBIRD, THE PHEASANT-HEN, _later_ CHANTECLER + + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Panting, tragically earnest._] 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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Cheerfully rummaging among the moss._] Or the thigh of a katydid will +do. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I was watching from a distance. I crouched in a ditch--[_In an anguished +voice._] Well? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_In genuine surprise._] Well, what? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Their conspiracy-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Calmly._] It all went off very nicely. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What do you mean? + +THE BLACKBIRD +The shadow was a correct and appropriate blue, and the Owls said +perfectly characteristic things. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In wild alarm._] Heavens, they plotted his death? + +THE BLACKBIRD +His decease, which is not nearly so bad. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Those Owls-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +Are good enough in their various parts, but it's the old excessive style +of acting. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I beg your pardon? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Back numbers! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh? + +THE BLACKBIRD +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Fluttering hither and thither feverishly._] I am never quite sure of +understanding when a person is talking in fun. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Winking at her._] No flies on your acting! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Surely you wouldn't be laughing if he were in danger? Those ruffians--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Prattlers! Wooden Swords! Knights of Hot Air! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But Scops--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +A stuffed Owl! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And the Great Bubo--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Just two ten-candle-power lamps, to be turned on and off with a +switch,--crick-crack! And Flammeolus, two lamps likewise--but acetylene! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Bewildered by his imagery._] And so--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +No, trembling Gypsy, there's not enough in this great plot to choke a +flea withal! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Truly? I have been so horribly afraid-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +So it might seem. + +THE BLACKBIRD +We have in these latter days bowed Tragedy respectfully out of the +house! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But had we not best warn Chantecler, so that-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +He would go instantly and challenge them. And then such a whetting of +steel! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are right. So he would. + +THE BLACKBIRD +On your principle, mad Gitana, an oak-gall could be made into a world. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You have much good sense. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Daughter of the forest, I have. + +CHANTECLER'S VOICE +[_Outside._] Coa-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Chantecler! + +CHANTECLER +[_Approaching on the left, between the hollies, calls from afar._] Who +is there? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +It is I! + +CHANTECLER +[_Still from a distance._] Alone? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_With a significant look at the_ BLACKBIRD.] Yes, alone. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Understanding._] I vanish--I am off to supper. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Low to the_ BLACKBIRD.] And so--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Motioning her to be silent._] Keep it dark! [_As he is leaving, by the +right, in the manner of one giving an order to a waiter._] Earwigs +for one! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Low._] It is wiser, you think, not to tell him? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Before disappearing among the flower-pots._] Well, rather! + + + +SCENE THIRD + +THE PHEASANT-HEN, CHANTECLER. + +CHANTECLER +[_Who has reached the_ PHEASANT-HEN'S _side._] Out so early? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +To see the daybreak. + +CHANTECLER +[_With repressed emotion._] Ah--? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Teasingly._] What troubles you? + +CHANTECLER +I have had a wretched night. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +So sorry! [_A pause._] + +CHANTECLER +Are you going to the Guinea-hen's? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I stayed over solely for that purpose. + +CHANTECLER +Ah, yes, I know. [_A pause._] I dislike her extremely. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Come to her party. + +CHANTECLER +No. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +As you please. Then we may as well say good-bye. + +CHANTECLER +No. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Come to the Guinea-hen's. We shall have a chance to see something of +each other there. + +CHANTECLER +No. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are determined not to come? + +CHANTECLER +I am coming--but I hate it. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Why? + +CHANTECLER +It is weak. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +No, no! That is no great sign of weakness! + +CHANTECLER +Ah--? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Softly, coming closer to him._] What would be showing a sweet, +delightful, and fully masculine weakness-- + +CHANTECLER +[_In alarm at her approach._] What? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Would be to tell me your secret. Oh, just a wee bit! + +CHANTECLER +[_With a start._] The secret of my song? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Yes. + +CHANTECLER +Golden Hen, my secret-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Coaxingly._] Often from the edge of the woods I hear you in the first +golden glimmer of day-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Flattered._] My song has reached your shapely little ear? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +It has! + +CHANTECLER +[_Abruptly, moving away from her._] My secret--Never! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are not very gallant! + +CHANTECLER +No--I am full of conflict and misery. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Languidly reciting._] The Cock and the Pheasant-hen a Fable-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Half aloud._] A Cock loved a Pheasant-hen-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And would not tell her anything-- + +CHANTECLER +Moral-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +It was horrid of him! + +CHANTECLER +[_Pressing close to her._] Moral: Your dress has the fascinating rustle +of silk! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Moral: I dislike familiarity! [_Withdrawing from him._] Go home to your +Hen of the plebeian petticoat! + +CHANTECLER +[_Stamping._] I shall be angry! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +No, no, don't be angry--Say "Coa--" [_They stand bill to bill._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Angrily._] Coa-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +No, no! Say it nicely-- + +CHANTECLER +[_In a long, tender coo._] Coa-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Look at me without laughing. Your secret-- + +CHANTECLER +Well? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are dying to tell it to me! + +CHANTECLER +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! [_Going +brusquely nearer to her._] Shall you prove worthy, at least, of having +been chosen? Is your breast true red to the core? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Now tell me! + +CHANTECLER +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-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are seeking for grains of corn, seeds, I suppose. + +CHANTECLER +Never! I have never looked for such things. I find them occasionally, +into the bargain, but disdainfully I give them to my Hens. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Well, then, in your perpetual scratching, what is it you are looking +for? + +CHANTECLER +The right spot! For always before singing I carefully choose my stand. +Pray, observe-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +True, and then you ruffle your feathers. + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Chantecler! + +CHANTECLER +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-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Frightened._] Chantecler! + +CHANTECLER +And sounding its victory beforehand, my song springs forth so clear, so +proud, so peremptory, that the horizon, seized with a rosy +trembling--_obeys!_ + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Chantecler! + +CHANTECLER +I sing! Vainly Night offers to compromise, offers a dubious twilight--I +sing again! And suddenly-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Chantecler! + +CHANTECLER +I fall back, blinded by the red light bathing me, dazzled at having, I, +the Cock, made the Sun to rise! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Then the whole secret of your song--? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What he says sounds slightly mad!--You are responsible for the rising +of-- + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But when you sing by day? + +CHANTECLER +I am practising, or else promising the ploughshare, the hoe, the harrow, +the scythe, not to neglect my duty of waking them. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But what wakens you? + +CHANTECLER +The fear of forgetting. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And you believe that at the sound of your voice the whole world is +suffused--? + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Still-- + +CHANTECLER +But here I stand, explaining, perorating, and forgetting altogether to +make my dawn. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +His dawn! + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +More fair? + +CHANTECLER +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--[_Taking his stand upon a hillock at the back, +overlooking the valley._] Now, Madam! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Gazing at his outline against the sky._] How beautiful he is! + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +He is so beautiful that what he says almost seems possible! + +CHANTECLER +[_Talking toward the horizon._] Ha, Sun, I feel you just behind there, +stirring--and I laugh with pride and joy amidst my scarlet +wattles--[_Rising on tiptoe suddenly, in a voice of startling +loudness._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What great breath lifts his breast-feathers? + +CHANTECLER +[_Toward the east._] 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! [_Whispering mysteriously._] Yes, yes, month of July-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +To whom is he speaking? + +CHANTECLER +You shall have it earlier than April! [_Bending to right and left, +encouragingly._] Yes, Bramble!--Yes, Brake! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +He is magnificent! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] You see, I must at all times +remember--[_Stroking the earth with his wing._] Yes, dear +Grass!--remember the humble prayers whose interpreter I become. +[_Talking to invisible things._] The golden ladder?--I understand! that +you may all dance on it together! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +To whom are you promising a ladder? + +CHANTECLER +To the Motes--Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Watching the sky and landscape._] A shiver of blue runs across the +thatched roofs.--A star went out just then-- + +CHANTECLER +No, it veiled itself. Even by daylight the stars are there. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You do not extinguish them? + +CHANTECLER +I extinguish nothing! But you shall see how great I am at kindling! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh, I see a dawning of-- + +CHANTECLER +What do you see? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The blue is no longer blue! + +CHANTECLER +I told you! It is already green! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The green is turning to orange-- + +CHANTECLER +You will have been the first this morning to see the transformation! + +[_The distant plain takes on velvety purplish hues._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +It all seems to end in leagues of purple heather. + +CHANTECLER +[_Whose crow is beginning to tire._] Cock-a-doo-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh--yellow among the pine trees! + +CHANTECLER +Gold it ought to be,--gold! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And pearly grey-- + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Every hollow in every tree is pink as a wild rose-- + +CHANTECLER +[_With growing enthusiasm._] 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? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Lured along and half persuaded by the madness of the_ COCK.] Such a +thing might be, after all, since love is involved in the mystery! + +CHANTECLER +Resume, horizon, at my command, your fringe of little poplars! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Bending over the valley._] There emerges from the shadow, gradually, a +world of your creation-- + +CHANTECLER +Sacred things you are witnessing--To sacred things I am initiating +you!--Define your outlines, distant hills! Pheasant-hen, do you love me? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +We shall always love to be in the secret of the Makers of Dawn! + +CHANTECLER +You help me to sing better. Come closer. Collaborate. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Springing to his side._] I love you! + +CHANTECLER +Every word you whisper in my ear shall be translated into sunshine for +all the world to see! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I love you! + +CHANTECLER +Say it again, and I will gild that mountain suddenly! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Wildly._] I love you!--Let me see you gild it! + +CHANTECLER +[_In his greatest, most splendid manner._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! [_The +mountain turns golden._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Pointing to the lower ranges, still purple._] But the hills? + +CHANTECLER +Each in its turn. To the highest peaks belong the earliest rays! +Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Ah!--across yonder drowsing slope a stealing gleam-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Joyously._] I dedicate it to you! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The distant villages are coming into view. + +CHANTECLER +Cock-a--[_His voice breaks._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are weary! + +CHANTECLER +[_Stiffening himself._] I refuse to be! [_Wildly._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Exhausted! + +CHANTECLER +Do you see those tatters of mist still clinging? Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You will kill yourself! + +CHANTECLER +I only live, dear, when I am killing myself giving great splendid cries! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Pressing close to his side._] I am proud of you! + +CHANTECLER +[_With emotion._] Your head bows-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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! + +CHANTECLER +[_While the little distant houses begin to smoke in the dawn._] I +dedicate to you moreover those reawakened farmsteads. Man offers +trinkets, I--wreaths and plumes of smoke! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Looking off._] I can see your work growing,--growing in the distance. + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking at her._] I can see it in your eyes! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Over the meadows-- + +CHANTECLER +On your throat--[_In a smothered voice._] Oh, it is exquisite! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What? + +CHANTECLER +I am at once doing my duty, and making you more fair. I am gilding my +valley, while brightening your wing. [_Tearing himself from love, and +dashing toward the right._] But the shadow still fights all along the +line of retreat. There is much to be done over there! Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Looking up at the sky._] Oh, look! + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking too, sadly._] How can I prevent it? The morning star is fading +out! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In a tone of regret for the little bright spark which the growing +light must necessarily quench._] It is fading out-- + +CHANTECLER +Alas!--But shall we therefore despond? [_And tearing himself from +melancholy, he springs toward the left._] There is still much to do over +here. Cock-a--[_At this point the crowing of other_ COCKS _ascends from +the valley._ CHANTECLER _listens, then softly._] Hark! Do you hear +them now? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Who dare--? + +CHANTECLER +The other Cocks. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Bending above the plain._] They are singing in the rosy light-- + +CHANTECLER +Yes, they believe in the light as soon as they see it. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +They sing all in a haze of blue-- + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +How dare they sing when you are singing? + +CHANTECLER +Let them sing! Their songs acquire significance from mingling with mine, +and their tardy but numerous cries unconsciously hasten the flight of +the dark. [_Straightening upon his hillock, he calls to the distant_ +COCKS.] Now, all together! + +CHANTECLER AND ALL THE COCKS +Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +CHANTECLER +[_Alone, with familiar cordiality._] Forward, forward, boldly, Day! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Beside him, stamping her feet._] Boldly, Day! + +CHANTECLER +[_Crying encouragements to the Light._] Yes, there, there before you, is +a roof for you to gild! Come, come, a touch of green on that patch of +waving hemp! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Beside herself with excitement._] A glimmer of white on that road! + +CHANTECLER +A wash of blue on the river! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In a great cry._] The Sun! Look, the Sun! + +CHANTECLER +There he is, I can see him, but we must hale him from that grove! [_And +both of them, moving backward together, appear to be drawing something +after them._ CHANTECLER _prolonging his crow as if to drag up the_ SUN +_by it._] Cooooooo-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Shouting above_ CHANTECLER'S _crow._] There he comes-- + +CHANTECLER +--oock-a-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +--climbing-- + +CHANTECLER +--doodle-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +--above-- + +CHANTECLER +--doooooo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +--the poplars! + +CHANTECLER +[_In a last, dry-throated, desperate crow._] Cock-a-doodle-doo [_Both +stagger, suddenly flooded with light._] It is done! [_He adds, in a tone +of satisfaction._] A proper Sun,--a giant! [_He totters toward a mossy +rise and drops against it._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Running to him, while all grows brighter and brighter._] One song now +to greet the beautiful rising Sun! + +CHANTECLER +[_Very low._] I have no voice left. I spent it all. [_Hearing the other_ +COCKS _crowing in the valley, he adds gently._] It matters not. He has +the songs and praises of the others. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Surprised._] What? After he appears, he hears no more from you? + +CHANTECLER +No more. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Indignant._] But in that case, perhaps the Sun believes the other +Cocks have made him rise? + +CHANTECLER +It matters not. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But-- + +CHANTECLER +Hush! Come to my heart and let me thank you. Never has there been a +lovelier dawn. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But what will repay you for all your pains? + +CHANTECLER +Echoes of awakening life down in the valley! [_Confused living noises +are beginning to mount from below._] Tell me of them. I have not the +strength to listen for myself. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Runs to the top of the rise, and listens._] I hear a finger knocking +against the rim of a brazen sky-- + +CHANTECLER +[_With closed eyes._] The Angelus. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Other strokes, which sound like a human Angelus after the divine-- + +CHANTECLER +The forge-hammer. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Lowing,--then a song-- + +CHANTECLER +The plow. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Continuing to listen._] Sounds as of a bird's nest fallen into the +little street-- + +CHANTECLER +[_With growing emotion._] The school! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Imps of whom I catch no glimpse buffet one another in the water-- + +CHANTECLER +Women washing linen. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And suddenly, on all sides, what are they--iron locusts rubbing their +wings together? + +CHANTECLER +[_Half rising, in the fullness of pride._] Ah, if scythes are whetting, +the reapers will soon be harvesting the golden grain! [_The sounds +increase and mingle: bells, hammers, washer-women's wooden spades, +laughter, singing, grinding of steel, cracking of whips._] All at work! +And I have done that!--Oh, impossible!--Pheasant-hen, help me! This is +the dreadful moment! [_He looks wildly about him._] 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-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What is? + +CHANTECLER +I am humble-minded, modest! You will never tell? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +No, no! + +CHANTECLER +You promise? Ah! let my enemies never know! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Moved._] Chantecler! + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Tenderly._] My own! + +CHANTECLER +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? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Clasping him with her wings._] Surely, you will find it, surely! + +CHANTECLER +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-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are beautiful! + +CHANTECLER +About that I care very little. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And you sang beautifully! + +CHANTECLER +Say that I sang badly, but tell me that it is I who make-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Indeed, indeed, I admire you beyond all bounds and measure! + +CHANTECLER +No,--tell me that what I told you is true-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What? + +CHANTECLER +That it is I who make-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Yes, my glorious Beloved, yes, it is you who make the dawn appear! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Suddenly appearing._] Well, well, old man! + + + +SCENE FOURTH + +THE SAME, THE BLACKBIRD + + +CHANTECLER +The Blackbird!--My secret! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Bowing with every sign of admiration._] Allow me to-- + +CHANTECLER +That inveterate mocker! [_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Leave us not alone! My +soul is still open--his mockery would enter in! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Ripping! + +CHANTECLER +Where have you come from? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Indicating an empty overturned flower-pot._] From that flower-pot. + +CHANTECLER +But how--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +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-- + +CHANTECLER +Eavesdropping inside a pot! How can you stoop to-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You could see us? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Showing the hole at the bottom of the flower-pot._] 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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +For the sake of this sincere tribute, I forgive you all the rest! + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Coming and going in excitement._] Oh, wonderful, and again wonderful, +and then again wonderful!--Hear me rant! + +CHANTECLER +[_Amazed._] What, is it possible that you--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Am I given to gush? This time, old man, it's the genuine article, +Enthusiasm with a capital E! + +CHANTECLER +Are you in earnest? + +THE BLACKBIRD +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] There seems to be no reason, dear, why I should not +leave you alone together. + +CHANTECLER +But where are you going? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Slightly ashamed of her own frivolity._] I am going to the-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +The Guinea-hen's Day he's just given the finishing touches to! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Must I go too? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Tenderly._] No, after rising to such heights, I think you may be +excused from the Guinea-hen's at home! + +CHANTECLER +[_With a touch of sadness._] You, however, are going? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Gaily._] I want to show off your sunshine on my dress! I will be back +directly. Wait for me here. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Yes, much better keep out of the way. + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking at him._] Wherefore? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Quickly._] Nothing! [_Falling into fresh ecstasies._] Oh, this blessed +Cock of ours! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] You will not be long? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The merest moment. [_Low to him before leaving._] You see, even the +Blackbird is impressed! [_She flies off._] + + + +SCENE FIFTH + +CHANTECLER, THE BLACKBIRD + + +CHANTECLER +[_Coming back to the_ BLACKBIRD.] And so that habitual skeptical +sneer--? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Wiped out! My satirical whistling, as the Dog called it, now expresses +pure admiration. Listen, like this: [_He whistles admiringly._] +Tew!--How is that?--Tew-tew [_Nodding soberly._] That's all right! + +CHANTECLER +[_Innocently._] You are not such a bad fellow, after all. I said so to +the Dog. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_With profound conviction._] You're a wonderful old boy! + +CHANTECLER +[_Modestly._] Oh! + +THE BLACKBIRD +To come it over the Hens--[_He again whistles Admiringly._] make them +believe that he engineers the dawn! [CHANTECLER _starts._] A simple +idea, but it took you to get on to it! Brother, I believe you were +hatched in Columbus' egg! + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +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! + +CHANTECLER +[_In a smothered voice._] Be still! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Neat, the little roof which must be gilded! Complete, the ladder for the +Motes! + +CHANTECLER +[_In a spasm of pain._] Be still! + +THE BLACKBIRD +And the access of modesty, a sweet little final touch! I kiss my hand to +you! Oh, he knows how--no mistake he knows-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Constraining himself, in a curt voice._] The Dawn? Certainly, I know +her. I think I may claim that honor! + +THE BLACKBIRD +You precious fakir! Don't you consider you have succeeded? + +CHANTECLER +In bringing on the day? Yes, certainly, I have succeeded admirably, in +this case. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Oh, you do it so well! How awfully well he does it! + +CHANTECLER +Making the light? Of course, I have done it so often! I am used to it. +The Sun obeys me. + +THE BLACKBIRD +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! + +CHANTECLER +[_Bursting forth._] Wretch! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Surprised._] Are you keeping it up with me? [_Winking._] Oh, we know +how the thing is done! + +CHANTECLER +You may know,--not I! I just open my heart and sing! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping about._] That's the idea! + +CHANTECLER +Blackbird, laugh at everything besides, but not at that, if you love me! + +THE BLACKBIRD +I love you! + +CHANTECLER +[_Bitterly._] With half a heart! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Can't say a word about his _Fiat Lux?_ + +CHANTECLER +Not that! Not that! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Old man, it's not my fault that I'm no gull. + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking after him as he hops about._] He cannot keep still long +enough, I suppose, to let the sacred truth sink in. [_Trying to stop him +in his hopping._] You behold the agony of emotion shaking me. No more +baffle and keep me off with words! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping past him._] Catch, if you can, and convince me! + +CHANTECLER +[_Imploring._] 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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping past him._] Do you! + +CHANTECLER +In solemn earnest, at the bottom of your heart, you did--did you +not?--believe me? + +THE BLACKBIRD +I believe you! + +CHANTECLER +[_With pressing anguish._] 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-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +A whopping muscle and a tolerable nerve! + +CHANTECLER +No, let us not make light of serious things, responsible winged +creatures that we are! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Let us go in for heavy-weight truths, by all means! + +CHANTECLER +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-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +Stentorian lungs and the eyes of a lynx! [_He hops out of the way._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Controlling himself._] No, I cannot give up the hope of winning this +soul to the truth! [_With desperate patience._] Come, now, have you any +conception, unhappy bird, of what dawn actually is? + +THE BLACKBIRD +I should say so! It's the time of day when fluffy Aurora gets busy, as +it were, and plays ball! + +CHANTECLER +But what do you say when you see the dawn shining upon the mountains? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Mountains, I say, what on earth are you blushing about? + +CHANTECLER +And what do you say when you hear me singing in the furrow long before +the cricket is awake? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Cricket, I say, you scandalous slug-a-bed! [_He hops out of the way._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Beside himself._] 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? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Sure, brother, sure! I feel like shouting, "Bully, do it again!" [_He +hops out of the way._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Exhausted._] That soul! I am more spent with chasing it than with a +whole day's grasshopper hunting! [_Violently._] Did you not see the sky? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Simply._] How could I? The ground is all you can see through that +little black hole. [_Pointing at the flower-pot._] + +CHANTECLER +Did you see the mountain-tops tremble and turn crimson? + +THE BLACKBIRD +While you were crowing, I had my eye on your feet. + +CHANTECLER +[_Sorrowfully._] Ah! + +THE BLACKBIRD +They were performing on the soft sod something choice in the line of +fancy dances! + +CHANTECLER +[_Giving up._] I pity you! Back to your darkness, obscure Blackbird! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Your obedient servant, illustrious Cock! + +CHANTECLER +My course is toward the sun! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Take along smoked glasses! + +CHANTECLER +Blackbird, do you know the one thing upon earth worthy that one should +live wholly for its sake? + +THE BLACKBIRD +There I draw the line. I won't enter the debate! + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Snapping up the snail._] I'll make him look silly! + +CHANTECLER +[_With a cry of horror._] Abominable! To point a joke--put out a little +flame! An end. Here we part. You have no more heart than soul. +[_Going._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hopping up on the fagot._] I have mind, however! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning, disdainfully._] That is open to discussion. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Acidly._] 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. + +CHANTECLER +[_Returning._] Who? What? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Strut about with your bill-board: "I'm the whole show!" + +CHANTECLER +You associate with those who hate me? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Do you object? + +CHANTECLER +No, you pitiful jester! The habit has grown so strong, you can no more +be in earnest about friendship now than anything else. [_Going nearer to +him._] Who are my enemies? + +THE BLACKBIRD +The Owls. + +CHANTECLER +You sorry fool! Can't you see that to believe in my destiny becomes all +too easy if the Owls are against me? + +THE BLACKBIRD +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. + +CHANTECLER +Through whom? + +THE BLACKBIRD +A brother bird. + +CHANTECLER +A Cock? + +THE BLACKBIRD +A Saint George of a Cock, who is to meet you-- + +CHANTECLER +Where? + +THE BLACKBIRD +At the Guinea-hen's. + +CHANTECLER +What a farce! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Wait! It's one of those Cocks bred and trained for fighting, who would +make just two bites of either you or me. [_As_ CHANTECLER _abruptly +starts toward the back._] Where are you going? + +CHANTECLER +To the Guinea-hen's. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Ha! I forgot our knightly spurs and helmet! [_He makes a feint of +preventing him._] Take my advice, don't go! + +CHANTECLER +But I will go! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Hold on! + +CHANTECLER +[_Stopping beside the flower-pot, as if amazed._] How singular! + +THE BLACKBIRD +What? + +CHANTECLER +Did I understand you to say you came out of that flower-pot? + +THE BLACKBIRD +You did. + +CHANTECLER +[_Incredulous._] But how could you possibly have got into it? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Getting into the pot._] I told you, and tell you again! Through that +little black hole I was looking at the--[_He thrusts his bill through +the hole at the bottom._] + +CHANTECLER +The earth! And now through a little blue hole you shall look at the sky! +[_With a vigorous blow of his wing he turns the pot over the_ BLACKBIRD, +_who is heard fluttering beneath it, with smothered cries._] 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! [_Off._] + +CURTAIN + + + +ACT THIRD + + +THE GUINEA-HEN'S DAY + +_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._ + + +SCENE FIRST + +_The_ GUINEA-HEN, HENS, DUCKS, _etc.; the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _the_ +BLACKBIRD, _later_ PATOU. + +_At the rise of the curtain, multitudinous clatter and confused swarming +of_ HENS _and_ CHICKENS. + + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Going impetuously from one to the other._] How do you do? How do you +do?--There is scarcely room to move! My guests reach all the way to the +cucumber patch! + +CHORUS +[_Up in the air._] + _Busily buzzing_-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +A regular crush! + +A HEN +[_Gazing at a row of huge pumpkins._] What attractive objects! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Art pottery! Rather good of its kind, if I do say so! + +A CHICK +[_Listening with his bill in the air._] Singers? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Yes,-- + +CHORUS + _Busily buzzing_-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_In her sprightliest manner._] The Wasps! [_To a_ CHICKEN.] How do you +do? [_She flits from one guest to the other._] + +THE WASPS + _Busily buzzing + Estival glees. + Fill we with murmurs + The mulberry trees_! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Passing with the_ BLACKBIRD _and laughing._] So you were caught? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Finishing his story._] Exactly as if a hat had been plumped down over +me. But I managed by beating my wings to throw off the beastly pot. +[_Looking around him._] Chantecler has not come yet? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Surprised._] Is he coming? + +PATOU +[_Suddenly appearing on the wheelbarrow, from whence he can watch the +scene as from a pulpit._] I still hope he may change his mind. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Patou there, in the wheelbarrow? + +PATOU +[_Shaking his surly head, and a bit of broken chain hanging from his +collar._] 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. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the_ BLACKBIRD.] Has he invited himself to my party, that +moth-eaten old thing? + +CHORUS +[_Among the trees._] + _Our praises, Sun, our praises!_ + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Looking upward._] Music? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +The Cicadas! + +CHORUS OF CICADAS + _We simmer in thy gaze, + We bask beneath thy blaze, + Receive our grateful praise!_ + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +[_Low and quickly to his mother._] Tsicadas, mother. You must pronounce +it Tsi! + +A MAGPIE +[_In black coat and white tie, announcing the guests as they arrive +through a hole such as Chickens dig at the foot of hedges._] The Gander! + +THE GANDER +[_Entering, jocularly._] What's all this fuss and feathers my lady? Our +names called as we enter? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Demurely._] Yes, you see, expecting some rather great people, I +thought it well to stand an usher at the blackthorn door. + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing._] The Duck! + +THE DUCK +[_Entering, impressed by the elegance of the occasion._] Here is style +and grandeur indeed! Our names called! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Yes, you see, expecting some rather great people-- + +THE MAGPIE +The Turkey-hen! + +THE TURKEY-HEN +[_Entering, after a supercilious glance._] This is quite more of an +affair, my dear, than I was anticipating.--Names called! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Yes, I had in the Magpie to supplement my usual staff. + +CHORUS +[_Among blossoming branches._] + _Boom! Boom! + From bloom to bloom_! + +THE TURKEY-HEN +[_Lifting her bill._] A Chorus? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Breezily._] The Bees! + +CHORUS + _Make distant flowers + Bride and groom!_ + +THE TURKEY-HEN +Wonders on every side! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +The Bees here, the Tsicadas yonder--[_To a passing_ HEN.] How do you do? +How do you do? + +BEES +[_At the right._] + _Boom!_ + +CICADAS +[_At the left._] + _Our praises!_ + +BEES + _Boom!_ + +CICADAS + _Our praises!_ + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] My garden produces the most remarkable of +everything! + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +The brightest flowers! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +The big potatoes! + +THE BLACKBIRD +And peaches! Perfect peaches! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Inconvenienced by the movement and the crowd, to the_ BLACKBIRD.] Let +us stand out of the crowd a moment, behind this watering-pot. + +THE BLACKBIRD +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. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Spying the_ CAT, _who, outstretched along an apple-bough is watching +with half-closed eyes._] I have among my guests the Cat. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Tomkyns de Tomkyns! [_A_ BIRD _is heard warbling in a tree._] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +I have the Chaffinch! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Let him chaff inchworms, what care we? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +The Darning-needle! + +THE BLACKBIRD +She shall mend up Ragged Robin, now's his chance! + +PATOU +[_More and more disgusted._] All that is supposed to be funny! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Pecking a cabbage leaf from which roll drops of dew._] I have the Dew! + +PATOU +[_Grimly._] Your witticism for her? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Brightly._] Fresh-water pearls! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Pointing out several_ CHICKS _walking among the crowd._] Have you seen +them? I have several of the A.I.'s Chicks! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +A.I.? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +The Acme Incubator. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh, have you? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Presenting the_ CHICKS.] All from the topmost compartment! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Indeed? + +ONE OF THE CHICKS +[_Nudging his neighbour._] She is dumbfounded! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Contemptuously._] Eggs hatched by the old vulgar method, fie! + +THE BLACKBIRD, +Good Lord, exempt us! + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing._] The Guinea-pig! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +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--[_To the_ GUINEA-PIG.] How do you do? [_To the_ +PHEASANT-HEN.] 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--[_To a passing_ HEN.] How do you do? [_To +the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Educational Tea or Currant Topics! [_Whirling from +one to the other._] 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--[_Noticing that the_ TORTOISE _is not there_] I +was mistaken, the Tortoise is not here. She is late. + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Affecting deep concern._] What is the little talk she seems so +regrettably likely to miss? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Suddenly serious._] The Moral Problem. + +THE BLACKBIRD +What a pity! + +[_The_ GUINEA-HEN _goes to the back, scattering greetings, in ecstasies +of sociability._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To the_ BLACKBIRD.] Who is the Tortoise? + +THE BLACKBIRD +A hard old character, impervious, I fear, to moral problems, who goes in +for walking matches in a loud check suit! + +[_Murmur among the hollyhocks._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Listen, a Drone! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Briskly returning._] The Drone is here! In the bright light overhead, +what a stylish figure of a fly! + +THE BLACKBIRD +No "at home" complete without it! Ladies cry for it! Won't be happy +until-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Jumping up in the air toward the_ DRONE.] How do you do? How do you +do? [_She follows his flight with excited leaps and hops._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Touching his brow with his wing._] She is dotty! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_At the back, with shrill_ GUINEA-HEN _cries._] It's my last day! How +do you do? My last day until August! Mondays in August, don't forget! + +A HEN +[_Seeing cherries dropping around her._] Oh, cherries, look! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Looking upward._] It is the Breeze! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Fluttering forward again, excited as ever._] 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--[_To the back +tumultuously._] + +THE BLACKBIRD +And Thingumbob, and Stick-in-the-mud! [_He has arrived without +appearance of design beneath the tree where the_ CAT _is lying, and asks +rapidly, under breath._] Cat, what about the conspiracy? + +THE CAT +[_Who from his tree can see beyond the hedge._] It is afoot. I see the +interminable file of phenomenal Cocks approaching, headed by the Peacock +who comes to present them. + +A CRY +[_Outside._] Ee--yong! [_The_ CROWD _throngs toward the entrance._] + +PATOU +[_Grumbling._] That abominable concertina cry-- + +THE MAGPIE +The Peacock! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To the_ BLACKBIRD.] Have you a fancy name for him? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Imitating the_ PEACOCK'S _cry._] Our great Accordee-yong! + + + +SCENE SECOND + +THE SAME, THE PEACOCK. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the_ PEACOCK, _who enters slowly, with his head borne very stiff +and high._] 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! + +ALL +[_Crowding around the_ PEACOCK.] Master! Master! + +A CHICKEN +[_Low to the_ DUCK.] A word from him can make one's fortune in society! + +ANOTHER CHICKEN +[_Who has succeeded in forcing his way to the_ PEACOCK, _stammering with +emotion._] Master, what do you think of my latest "cheep"? [_Suspense. +Religious silence._] + +THE PEACOCK +[_Solemnly, letting the word drop slowly from his beak._] Definitive. +[_Sensation._] + +A DUCK +[_Trembling._] And my "quack"? [_Suspense._] + +THE PEACOCK +Ultimate! [_Sensation._] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Delighted, to the_ HENS.] 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-- + +THE PEACOCK +Lapidary. + +ALL THE HENS +[_Rolling up their eyes._] Wonderful! + +A HEN +[_Coming forward, faint with emotion._] Master, high priest of taste, +what do you think of my dress? [_Suspense._] + +THE PEACOCK +[_After a glance._] Affirmative. [_Sensation._] + +THE TUFTED HEN +[_Same business._] And my bonnet? [_Suspense._] + +THE PEACOCK +Absolute. [_Sensation._] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_In a burst of emotion._] Our bonnets are absolute! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Affecting exclusive interest in the_ BEES.] Ah, there is the Choir +Invisible striking up again! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Presenting the young_ GUINEA-COCK _to the_ PEACOCK.] My son!--What do +you think of him? + +THE PEACOCK +Plausible. + +CHORUS OF WASPS + _Busily buzzing_-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Overjoyed, running to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Oh, he said he was plausible! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Who was? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +My son! + +CHORUS OF BEES + + _When July + Too holly glows + Seek the shade + Inside the rose_! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Returning to the_ PEACOCK.] Does not the rhythm of that chorus impress +you as-- + +THE PEACOCK +Asunartetos! + +A HEN +[_To the_ GUINEA-HEN.] Your guest, my dear, can fit an epithet! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Pontiff of the Unexpected Adjective I call him! + +THE PEACOCK +[_Distilling his words, in a discordant haughty voice._] True it is that-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Ah, this is most pleasant, most pleasant! He is going to talk to us. + +THE PEACOCK +--a Ruskin rather more refined, I hope, than the earlier one, with a +tact-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Very true! + +PEACOCK +--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-- + +PATOU +Oh, my poor head! + +THE PEACOCK +[_Nonchalantly._]--shall I say guardian? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Effervescently._] Do say guardian! + +THE PEACOCK +No. Thesmothetes. [_Respectful murmur of delight._] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Now you have seen our Peacock! Aren't you +excited? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Slightly bored._] Yes,--because I know the Cock is coming. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Delighted._] To-day? He is coming to-day? [_She announces to the +general company, enthusiastically._] Chantecler! + +THE PEACOCK +[_Slightly miffed._] A far greater triumph lies in store for you, fair +friend. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Triumph? [_The_ PEACOCK _nods mysteriously._] What triumph? + +THE PEACOCK +[_Walking away from her._] You shall see. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Following him._] Of what triumph are you speaking? + +THE PEACOCK +I said, "You shall see!" + +MAGPIE +[_Announcing._] Cock Braekel of Campine! + + + +SCENE THIRD + +THE SAME, _then gradually the_ COCKS. + + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Stopping short, amazed._] Braekel? At my party? There's some mistake. + +THE BRAEKEL COCK +[_Bowing before her._] Madam-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Breathless with emotion in the presence of this white_ COCK _braided +with black._] This unexpected pleasure-- + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing._] Cock Ramelslohe-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Heavens! + +THE MAGPIE +[_Finishing._]--of the Slate-blue Claw! + +THE PEACOCK +[_In the_ GUINEA-HEN'S _ear, while the startling_ RAMELSLOHE _bows._] He +is one of the most recent leucotites! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Blankly._] A leucotite--How interesting! + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing in a louder and louder, more and more impressive voice._] +Cock Wyandotte of the Sable Spur! [_Shiver of emotion among the_ HENS.] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Off her head with excitement._] Heavens and gracious powers--my son! + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +[_Running to her._] Mamma! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Wyandotte! Cock Wyandotte! + +THE PEACOCK +[_With a fine carelessness._] Cock with strawberry coronet, product of +Art Nouveau! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the newcomers who are surrounded by astonished murmurs._] +Strawberry coronet!--Gentlemen-- + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +[_Who has gone to take a look outside._] Mamma! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +--so kindly condescending to honour my poor house-- + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +Mamma, there are still others coming! + +THE MAGPIE +His lordship, the Cock-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Heavens, what Cock? + +THE MAGPIE +Cock of Mesopotamia with the Double Comb! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Double! Oh! [_Dashing to welcome the newcomer._] Charmed, charmed indeed! + +THE PEACOCK +Out upon the obsolete! I wished to show you a few young gentlemen +slightly superlative and veritably precious. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Returning to the_ PEACOCK.] How shall I thank you, Peacock, dear +friend? [_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _patronizingly._] 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! [_Running to the_ +COCK, _who bows his two combs._] A proud day for us! Charmed, delighted, +enchanted! + +MAGPIE +Cock d'Orpington of the Feather-ringed Eye! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Feather-ringed--Oh! + +THE BLACKBIRD +The plot thickens! + +THE MAGPIE +[_While the_ GUINEA-HEN _is flying toward the_ ORPINGTON COCK.] Bearded +Cock of Varna! + +THE PEACOCK +[_To the_ GUINEA-HEN.] A typical Slav! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Leaving the_ ORPINGTON _for the_ BEARDED COCK.] Oh, the Slav soul we +have heard so much about! Charmed, beyond words, charmed! + +THE MAGPIE +Rose-footed Scotch Grey Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Leaving the_ BEARDED COCK _for the_ SCOTCH GREY.] Oh, that rose foot! +I do admire that rose foot! Think of introducing that rose foot at my +tea! [_With conviction._] What a social event! + +THE MAGPIE +Cock-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Out of her senses._] No, I say, no! There can't be any more! + +THE MAGPIE +Cock with Goblet-shaped comb! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Who at every name rushes excitedly toward the newcomer._] Charmed, I +am sure! Oh, what a novel notion! Goblet-shaped! + +THE MAGPIE +Blue Cock of Andalusia! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Your egg, I presume, was laid in the vibrating hollow of a guitar! +Delighted and honored,--both! + +THE MAGPIE +Cock Langsham! + +THE PEACOCK +A Tartar! + +ALL THE HENS +[_Smitten with amazement at sight of the black giant._] A Tartar! + +THE MAGPIE +Gold-penciled Hamburg Cock! + +ALL THE HENS +[_At sight of the gold-laced_ COCK _in the cocked hat._] Gold-penciled +Hamburg! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +My kitchen-garden party will be famous! [_To the_ HAMBURG COCK, _whose +breast is striped with black and yellow._] Oh, what a wonderful +waistcoat! May I ask what it is made of? + +THE BLACKBIRD +Of zebra! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Zebra, you don't say so! It will be the pride of my life, of my whole-- + +THE MAGPIE +Cock-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Jumping._] No, I can't believe it! + +THE MAGPIE +--of Burma! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Burma! [_Increasing general agitation._] + +THE PEACOCK +An East Indian. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Oh, I can see his Hindu soul right in his eyes, the Hindu soul we hear +so much about! [_Running to the newcomer, in an adoring voice._] +Charmed, charmed! The Hindu soul--oh! + +THE MAGPIE +Padua Cocks--The Dutch Padua of Poland! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Dutch of Poland! This is really more than I ever aspired to! + +[_The_ PADUA COCKS _enter, shaking their plumes._] + +THE MAGPIE +The Gold Cock! The Silver Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_In ecstasies of admiration before the flowing plume of the latter._] +With a waterfall on his head! + +THE BLACKBIRD +And a suspension bridge! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_No longer conscious of what she is saying._] And a suspension bridge! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ PATOU.] Poor Guinea-hen, she will say anything after anybody! + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing in a louder and louder tone ever more extraordinary_ +COCKS.] Bagdad Cock! + +THE PEACOCK +[_Dominating the tumult._] Consummately Arabian Nights. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Did you hear? Consummately Arabian Nights! + +ALL THE HENS +To be sure! Awfully Arabian Nights! + +THE PEACOCK +Kamaralzaman himself is hardly more so. + +THE MAGPIE +Bantam Cock with ruffles! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Transported._] How eighteenth century this is! Look, oh, look! A +dwarf! A dwarf! Dwarfs! Little cunning bits of dwarfs! + +THE YOUNG GUINEA-COCK +[_Low._] Mamma, do control yourself! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Screaming in the midst of the_ COCKS.] No, no, I can't and won't! That +is Kamaralzaman! I don't really know which I prefer, which I-- + +THE MAGPIE +Guelder Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Rushing to the newcomer._] This is truly a treat! Another Belgian! + +THE MAGPIE +Serpent-necked Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Rattled._] To you, dear Seacock, I owe this Perpentneck! + +THE MAGPIE +Duck-sided Cock! Crow-billed Cock! Hawk-footed Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Who has fallen upon the new arrivals, bursts into shrill volubility +before the last of them._] This surpasses all! An albino! Charmed, my +dear sir, honoured, enchanted! Oh, on his head he wears a cheese! + +A HEN +So he does, a cheese!--A cream cheese, to be sure! A cream cheese! + +ALL THE HENS +A cream cheese! + +THE MAGPIE +Cr่ve Coeur Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Rushing to meet him._] Oh, he has horns on his head! + +THE PEACOCK +Satanic. + +THE MAGPIE +Ptarmigan Cock! + +THE PEACOCK +Aesthetic. + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Rushing up to him._] Oh, he wears on his head an Assyrian helmet! + +THE MAGPIE +White Pile-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Rushing up to him._] He wears on his head--[_Stopping short at sight +of his docked comb._] Nothing whatever. He wears nothing whatever on his +head. How odd it looks! + +THE CAT +[_From his apple tree, to the_ BLACKBIRD, _indicating the_ WHITE PILE +GAME-COCK.] There is the champion. The dust conceals a razor on his lean +foot. [_The_ GAME-COCK _disappears among the throng of fancy_ COCKS, +_who are surrounded by a swarm of cackling_ HENS.] + +THE MAGPIE +Negro Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Gone quite mad among the multitude of_ COCKS _now filling the +kitchen-garden with their extraordinary head-gear aigrettes, and plumes +and helmets, double and triple combs._] Charmed, honoured, +enchanted--enchanted, honoured, charmed! + +PATOU +She has taken leave of her wits! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the empty air._] Charmed, charmed, enchanted, en-- + +THE MAGPIE +Cock with Supernumerary Toe!--Naked-necked Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Naked? + +THE MAGPIE +Necked! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To a_ HEN.] My dear, now we shall see something worth while! + +THE MAGPIE +Japanese Cocks--Cock Splendens! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_At sight of this_ COCK _whose tail is eight yards long._] Oh!--In a +swallow tail! + +THE MAGPIE +Clump-backed-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Perceiving that this_ COCK _is absolutely flat at the back._] In a +monkey-jacket! + +THE MAGPIE +[_Finishing._]--or Tailless Cock! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Beside herself._] He has nothing whatever behind! This is the crowning +moment of my career! [_To the newcomer, effusively._] Charmed! No +tail! This is-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +I like his cheek! + +THE MAGPIE +[_While more and more heterogeneous_ COCKS _appear._] Cock Walikikili, +called Choki-kukullo! Pseudo-Chinese Cuculicolor! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +What a choice gathering! + +THE PEACOCK +Kaleidoscopically cosmopolitan. + +THE MAGPIE +Blue Java! White Java! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Losing all shame._] Won't Java cup o' coffee? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Falling upon the_ JAVA COCKS.] Charmed, charmed! + +THE MAGPIE +Brahma Cock! Cochin Cock! + +THE PEACOCK +[_Proudly._] The great vicious Cocks, representatives of the corrupt +East, the putrescent Orient! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Intoxicated._] Putrescent! + +THE PEACOCK +Unwholesome, morbid grace! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the_ COCHIN COCK.] Charmed! Charmed!--Do notice his obscene eye! + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing wildly, infected with the general delirium._] Chili Cock, +curled hindside fore! Antwerp Cock, curled inside out! + +ALL THE HENS +[_Fighting for the newcomers._] Oh, putrescent!--Oh, hindside fore! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Inside out! + +THE MAGPIE +Shankless Jumping-cock! + +A HEN +[_Fainting with emotion._] I suppose he jumps with his stomach! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +An India-rubber Cock! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ PATOU, _who from his wheelbarrow is looking off into the +distance._] And Chantecler? + +PATOU +Will be here soon. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Can you see him? + +PATOU +Yes, off there, scratching up the earth. Now he is on his way. + +THE MAGPIE +Ghoondook Cock with Umbrella Topknot! + +CRY OF ENTHUSIASM +Oh! + +THE MAGPIE +Iberian Cock with Lint Side Whiskers! + +CRY OF ENTHUSIASM +Oh! + +THE MAGPIE +Cock Bans Backin or Fat Cheek of Thuringia! + +CRY OF ENTHUSIASM +Oh! + +THE MAGPIE +Yankee Cochin of Plymouth Rock! + +[_Sudden silence._ CHANTECLER _has appeared at the entrance, just behind +the_ COCK _last announced._] + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ MAGPIE.] Pray simply say, "The Cock!" + + + +SCENE FOURTH + +THE SAME, CHANTECLER, _later_ THE PIGEONS, _and_ +THE SWAN. + +THE MAGPIE +[_After looking_ CHANTECLER _up and down, disdainfully._] The Cock! + +CHANTECLER +[_From the threshold, to the_ GUINEA-HEN.] Your pardon Madam,--my humble +duty!--for venturing to present myself in this plumage-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Come in, I pray! + +CHANTECLER +I hardly know whether I should. I have a limited number of toes-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Indulgently._] Oh, never mind! + +CHANTECLER +I cannot claim to be a Carpathian, and--I hardly know how to conceal it +from you--I have feet! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Oh, let not that distress you! + +CHANTECLER +A plain red-pepper comb, an ordinary garlic clove ear-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Of course, of course, we will excuse you. You came in your business suit! + +CHANTECLER +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. + +AN IRONICAL VOICE +[_From among the group of gorgeous prodigies._] The Gallic Cock, in short? + +CHANTECLER +[_Gently, without even turning._] 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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Low to_ CHANTECLER.] I have seen your adversary! + +CHANTECLER +[_Catching sight of the_ PHEASANT-HEN _approaching._] Be still! She must +know nothing of this! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Coquettishly._] Did you come for the sake of seeing me? + +CHANTECLER +[_Bowing._] I am weak, you remember! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Listening to the_ COCHIN-CHINA COCK, _who is talking in an undertone, +thickly surrounded by_ HENS.] That Cock from Cochin China is +simply awful! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning._] Enough! + +THE HENS +[_Around the_ COCHIN COCK, _giving little scandalised cries._] Oh!-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Tickled._] Oh, you naughty bird!--He is quite the most improper of our +gallinacea! + +CHANTECLER +[_Louder._] Enough! + +THE COCHIN-CHINA COCK +[_Stops, and with mocking surprise._] Is it the Gallic Cock objecting? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Come, come away to the woods,--I love you! + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking around him._] Oh, to see a real being appear! Someone simple, +someone-- + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing._] Two Pigeons! + +CHANTECLER +[_Drawing a breath of relief._] At last,--pigeons! [_He runs eagerly to +the entrance._] + +THE PIGEONS +[_Entering with a series of somersaults._] Hop! + +CHANTECLER +[_Falling back in amazement._] What is this? + +THE PIGEONS +[_Introducing themselves between two springs._] The Tumblers! English +Clowns! + +CHANTECLER +Where am I? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Running after the_ TUMBLERS _who disappear among the throng of +guests._] Hop! Hop! + +CHANTECLER +Pigeons turning acrobats!--Oh, the joy of seeing something true, +something unblemished-- + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing._] The Swan! + +CHANTECLER +[_Coming forward delighted._] Good! A Swan! [_Shrinking away._] He is +black! + +THE BLACK SWAN +[_With swaggering satisfaction._] I have discarded the whiteness while +preserving the outline! + +CHANTECLER +The real Swan's shadow does no less! [_Thrusting the_ SWAN _aside to hop +up on a bench whence, through a gap in the hedge, he can see the distant +meadows._] 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! [_Coming down again beside the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh, come away to the innocent woods, sincere and dewy, where we will +love each other! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Pointing at_ CHANTECLER _and the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _who are standing +close and talking low._] We are getting on! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Intensely interested._] Do you think so? [_She spreads her wings to +screen them._] Oh, I am so fond of helping along a clandestine +love affair! + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Sticking his bill under the_ GUINEA-HEN'S _wing so as to keep the pair +in sight._] I believe she has thoughts of annexing his comb. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] Come, dearest, come away! + +CHANTECLER +[_Resisting._] No, I must sing where Destiny placed me. I am useful +here, I am beloved-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Remembering what she overheard the night before in the farmyard._] Are +you so sure?--Come away to the woods, where we shall hear real pigeons +cooing tenderly to each other! + +THE TURKEY +[_At the back._] Ladies, the great Peacock-- + +THE PEACOCK +[_Modestly._] The Super-peacock--who supervenes, and supersedes-- + +THE GUINEA-HEN +Will spread his tail for us! He has expressed his amiable willingness so +far to favour us. + +[_The company falls into groups of spectators, the outlandish_ COCKS +_forming a wreath around their patron._] + +THE PEACOCK +[_Preparing to spread his tail._] I am, by precious natural gift, in +addition to my multifarious accomplishments something of a--shall I say +artist in firework? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Effervescently._] Yes! + +THE PEACOCK +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-- + +CHANTECLER +Zounds! + +THE PEACOCK +--than, I venture to say, ladies, am I-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh, I understood that last word! + +THE PEACOCK +--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! + +CHANTECLER +What a silly bill! + +[_The_ PEACOCK _has spread his tail._] + +A COCK +[_To the_ PEACOCK.] Master, which of us will you make the fashion? + +THE PADUA COCK +[_Quickly coming forward._] Me! I look like a palm-tree! + +A CHINA COCK +[_Pushing the_ PADUA COCK _aside._] I look like a pagoda! + +A BIG FEATHER-FOOTED COCK +[_Pushing the_ CHINA COCK _aside._] Me! I have cauliflowers sprouting at +my heels! + +CHANTECLER +Each is in one the show and Mr. Barnum! + +ALL +[_Parading and filing past the_ PEACOCK.] See my beak! See my feet! See +my feathers! + +CHANTECLER +[_Suddenly shouting at them._] Lo! While you hold your costume contest, +a Scarecrow gives you his blessing! + +[_Behind them, in fact, the wind has lifted the arms of the_ SCARECROW, +_which loosely wave above the pageant._] + +ALL +[_Starting back._] What? + +CHANTECLER +Behold this dummy talking to that lay-figure! [_While the wind blows +through the flapping rags._] 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! + +THE PEACOCK +[_To the animals slightly dismayed by this address._] You poor-spirited +creatures, that thing cannot talk! + +CHANTECLER +Man says the same of us. + +THE PEACOCK +[_To the birds nearest to him._] He is vexed because of those Cocks whom +I introduced. [_To_ CHANTECLER, _ironically._] What, my dear sir, do you +say to these resplendent gentlemen? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +A COCK +My dear sir-- + +CHANTECLER +[_With rising spirit._] 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! + +A COCK +I protest-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Going from one to the other._] Yes, Cocks affecting incongruous forms, +Cocks crowned with cocoa-palm coiffures--Hear me talk like the Peacock! +I lapse into alliteration! [_Finding his fun in bewildering them with +cackling guttural volubility._] 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! + +A COCK +And how, may one learn from you, can a Cock secure himself against +becoming rococo? + +CHANTECLER +One royal way there is: to think only of crowing like a right and proper +Cock! + +A COCK +[_Haughtily._] We are well known, I beg to state, for our exceptionally +fine crowing! + +CHANTECLER +Known to whom? + + + +SCENE FIFTH + +THE SAME, _three_ CHICKENS, _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_ COCKS. + + +FIRST CHICKEN +To us, of course! + +SECOND CHICKEN +To us! + +THIRD CHICKEN +To us! + +ALL THREE +[_Bowing at once._] Good morning! + +FIRST CHICKEN +Your voice? + +SECOND CHICKEN +Tenor? + +THIRD CHICKEN +Bass? + +SECOND CHICKEN +Robusto? + +THIRD CHICKEN +Di cortesia? + +CHANTECLER +[_Bewildered, looking toward the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] What is this? An +interlude? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +An interview. + +SECOND CHICKEN +Do you take it in your chest? + +THIRD CHICKEN +Or in your head? + +CHANTECLER +Do I take what? + +FIRST CHICKEN +Pray talk without reserve. We represent the Board of Investigation into +the Gallodoodle Movement. + +CHANTECLER +That's all very well, but I--[_Attempting to pass._] + +FIRST CHICKEN +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? + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +SECOND CHICKEN +You have tendencies, no doubt-- + +CHANTECLER +Hosts. + +SECOND CHICKEN +What do you feel most particularly drawn to? + +CHANTECLER +Hens. + +FIRST CHICKEN +[_Without smiling._] Have you nothing to communicate with regard to your +song? + +CHANTECLER +I just sing. + +SECOND CHICKEN +And when you sing--? + +CHANTECLER +The heavens hear me. + +THIRD CHICKEN +Have you a special method? + +CHANTECLER +I-- + +FIRST CHICKEN +You live-- + +CHANTECLER +To sing! + +SECOND CHICKEN +And your song--? + +CHANTECLER +Is my life! + +THIRD CHICKEN +But how do you sing? + +CHANTECLER +I take pains. + +FIRST CHICKEN +But do you scan [_Beating furiously with his wing._] one-one-two +One-three? Three-one? Or four? What is your dynamic theory? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Shouting._] Who has not his little pet dynamic theory? + +CHANTECLER +Dyna--? + +SECOND CHICKEN +Where do you place the accent? On the Cock--? + +THIRD CHICKEN +On the Doo? + +CHANTECLER +On the-- + +FIRST CHICKEN +[_Impatiently._] What is your school? + +CHANTECLER +Schools of Cocks? + +SECOND CHICKEN +[_Rapidly._] Certainly. Some sing Cock-a-doodle-doo, and some +Keek-a-deedle-dee! + +CHANTECLER +Cock--? Keek--? + +THIRD CHICKEN +Not to speak of those who-- + +A COCK +[_Coming forward._] The correct and proper way to crow is +Cowkerdowdledow! + +CHANTECLER +What Cock is that? + +FIRST CHICKEN +An Anglo-Indian. + +SECOND CHICKEN +And the Turk over there, whose comb suggests a cyst, crows +Coocooroocoocoo! + +THIRD CHICKEN +[_Shouting in his ear._] Do you not upon occasions vary your +Cockadoodledoo with Cackadaddledaa? + +ANOTHER COCK +[_Springing up at the right._] I, for one, entirely suppress the vowels: +C-ck-d-dl-d! + +CHANTECLER +[_Trying to get away._] Is it a Welsh Rabbit dream? + +ANOTHER COCK +[_Springing up at the left._] O-a-oo-e-oo! Have you ever tried +suppressing the consonants? + +ANOTHER COCK +[_Pushing aside all the others._] I mix the whole thing +up--Cuck-o-deedle-daa!--in a free and supple song! + +CHANTECLER +My brain reels! + +ALL THE COCKS +[_Gathered about him, fighting._] No! Cuckodee--No, Cackadaa--No, +Coocooroo-- + +THE COCK +[_Who mixes all up._] The free Cockadoodle! The free crow is obligatory! + +CHANTECLER +Pray, who is that, speaking with such authority? + +FIRST CHICKEN +It is a wonderful Cock who has never sung at all. + +CHANTECLER +[_In humble despair._] And I am only a Cock who sings! + +EVERYBODY +[_Drawing away from him in disgust._] I wouldn't mention it if I were +you! + +CHANTECLER +I give my song as the rose-tree gives its Rose! + +THE PEACOCK +[_Sarcastically._] Ah, I was waiting for the Rose! [_Pitying laughter._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Low, nervously, to the_ BLACKBIRD.] Is my prospective slayer going to +keep me waiting much longer? + +EVERYONE +[_Disgusted._] The Rose? Oh! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +If you must mention flowers, let them be rather less-- + +THE PEACOCK +Elementary. [_With the most disdainful impertinence._] So you are still +at the declension of _Rosa?_ + +CHANTECLER +I am, you--Peacock! You, I suppose, may be forgiven for speaking +slightingly of the Rose, being a rival candidate for the beauty prize. +[_Looking around him._] But I summon these Cocks, from Dorking to +Bantam, to defend with me-- + +A COCK +[_Nonchalantly._] Pray whom? + +CHANTECLER +The Rose, _Rosam;_ to declare on the spot and forthwith-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Ironically._] You set yourself up as the champion-- + +CHANTECLER +_Rosarum,_ of roses, I do!--To declare that worship +is due-- + +A COCK +To whom, pray? + +CHANTECLER +To roses, _rosis!_--in whose hearts sleep rain-drops like essences in +fragrant vials, to declare that they are, and ever will be-- + +A VOICE +[_Cold and cutting._] Painted jades, things of naught! [_All the fancy_ +COCKS _draw aside, revealing the_ WHITE PILE GAME COCK, _who appears, +tall and lean and sinister at the further end of their double row._] + +CHANTECLER +At last! + +THE BLACKBIRD +It's time to climb up on the chairs! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ WHITE PILE.] Sir-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You are never going to challenge that giant? + +CHANTECLER +I am! To appear tall it is sufficient to talk on stilts! [_To the_ GAME +COCK, _slowly crossing the stage toward him._] Know that such a remark +is not to be endured, and permit me to tell you--[_Finding a_ CHICK +_between himself and the_ GAME COCK, _he gently puts him aside, saying_] +Run to your mother, tot! [_To the_ WHITE PILE, _looking insolently at +his docked comb_]--that you look like a Fool who has mislaid +his coxcomb! + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Astonished._] Fool? Coxcomb? What? What? What? + +CHANTECLER +[_Beak to beak with the_ GAME COCK.] What? What? What? [_A pause. They +arch themselves, with bristling neck-hackle._] + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Emphatically._] 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! + +CHANTECLER +[_Very simply._] 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? + +THE GAME COCK +White Pile. And yours? + +CHANTECLER +Chantecler. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Running desperately to the_ DOG.] Patou! + +CHANTECLER +[_To_ PATOU, _who is growling between his teeth._] You, keep out of this! + +PATOU +So I will, but it's rrrrrrrough! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] A Cock does not risk his life for a Rose! + +CHANTECLER +A slur upon a flower is a slur upon the Sun! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Running to the_ BLACKBIRD.] Do something! This must be patched up--You +know you had promised me! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Everything can be patched up, my dear, except the quarrels of a fellow's +friends! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Giving loud cries of despair._] Horrible! Oh, horrible A five-o'clock +tea at which guests kill each other! How dreadful--[_To her son._] that +the Tortoise should not have got here yet! + +A VOICE +[_Crying._] Chantecler, ten against one! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Seating her company, assisting the_ HENS _to climb upon flower-pots, +cold-frames, pumpkins._] Quick! quick! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Our charming hostess is in great feather, doing the honours of an affair +of honour. + +PATOU +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] Go in and thrash him. This crowd is longing for the +sight of your blood. + +CHANTECLER +[_Sadly._] I was never anything but kind! + +PATOU +[_Showing the ring which has formed, the faces lighted with hateful +eagerness._] Look at them! [_All necks are craned, all eyes shine; it is +hideous._ CHANTECLER _looks, understands, and bows his head._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_With a cry of rage._] It's a disgrace! A disgrace to the name of fowl! + +CHANTECLER +[_Raising his head again._] So be it. But they shall at least learn +to-day who I was, and my secret-- + +PATOU +No, don't tell them, if it's what my old dreamer's heart has apprehended! + +CHANTECLER +[_Addressing the multitude, in a loud voice, solemnly, like one +confessing his faith._] Know, all of you, that it is I--[_Deep silence +falls. To the_ WHITE PILE, _who has given a sign of impatience._] Your +pardon, excellent duellist, but I have a mind, before getting myself +killed, to do something brave-- + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Surprised._] Ah? + +CHANTECLER +Yes,--get myself laughed at! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +No, dearest, no! Don't do it! + +CHANTECLER +I wish to perish amid salvos of laughter! [_To the crowd._] Riot, spirit +of Mockery! Disciples of the Blackbird, prepare! [_In a still louder +voice, hammering home every word._] It is I, who, by my song, bring back +the light of day! [_Amazement, then vast laughter shakes the +multitude._] Is the merriment well under way? On guard! + +THE GOLDEN PADUA COCK +[_Nodding his plume._] Gentlemen, engage! + +VOICES +[_Amid storms of laughter._] Funny! Side-splitting! Was anything ever so +droll? I shall die laughing! + +THE BLACKBIRD +The old Gallic love of a joke is not dead! + +A CHICKEN +He sings light into the sky! + +A DUCK +The Sun gets up to hear him! + +CHANTECLER +[_Avoiding the blows which the_ WHITE PILE _is beginning to aim at +him._] Yes, it is I who give you back the Day! + +A CHICK +And a jolly fine day it is! + +CHANTECLER +[_While parrying and attacking._] The crowing of other Cocks, able +neither to make nor mar, is no better nor worse than sonorous sneezing! +Mine--[_He is wounded._] + +A VOICE +Biff! In the neck! + +CHANTECLER +--mine makes--[_He is again wounded._] + +THE TURKEY +Insufferable self-sufficiency! + +CHANTECLER +--the light--[_Again he is struck._] + +A VOICE +Biff! On the neb! + +CHANTECLER +--the light appear! + +A VOICE +Biff! In the eye! + +CHANTECLER +[_Blinded with blood._] Yes, the light! + +A VOICE +[_Sneering._] Better have let sleeping darkness lie! + +CHANTECLER +[_Automatically repeating beneath his adversary's blows._] It is I who +make the dawn appear! + +PATOU +[_Barking._] Aye! Aye! Aye! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Sobbing._] Stand up to him, darling! Oh, hit back! Hit back! + +A CHICK +Fellows, a nickname for the dawn! + +ALL +Yes! Yes! + +[_The_ WHITE PILE _hurls himself upon_ CHANTECLER.] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh, cruel! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Chantecler's Light o' Love! + +A VOICE +A nickname for the Cock! + +ALL +Yes! Yes! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Grand Master of Illuminations! + +ANOTHER VOICE +Purveyor of Sunny Beams! + +CHANTECLER +[_Defending himself foot to foot._] Thanks! Another quip, for I can +still fight with my feet! + +A VOICE +The Alarm-Cock! + +CHANTECLER +[_Who seems upheld by their insults._] Another pun! And I who know no +more of fighting than can be learned on a peaceful farm-- + +A VOICE +Thresh out his hayseed! + +CHANTECLER +Thanks! I--[_His torn feathers fly around him._] + +CRY OF JOY +See his fur fly! + +CHANTECLER +I feel--Another pleasantry! + +A VOICE +Lay on, Macfluff! + +CHANTECLER +Thanks! I feel that the more I am mocked, insulted, flouted, and denied-- + +AN ASS +[_Stretching his neck over the hedge._] Hee-haw! + +CHANTECLER +Thanks!--the better I shall fight! + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Chuckling._] He is game, but he's giving out. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Enough. Enough. Oh, stop! + +A VOICE +On White Pile, twenty to one! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Seeing_ CHANTECLER'S _bleeding neck._] He bleeds, oh! + +A HEN +[_Rising on tiptoe behind the_ GOLDEN PADUA COCK.] I should like to see +the blood! + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Increasing the fury of his onset._] I'll have your gizzard! + +THE HEN +[_Trying to see._] The Padua Cock's hat shuts off my view! + +THE BLACKBIRD +Hats off! + +A VOICE +That was a stinger! On his comb! + +SHRILL CRIES +[_From the crowd._] Land him one! Do him up! Lay him out! Have his gore! + +PATOU +[_Standing up in his wheelbarrow._] Will you stop behaving like human +beings? + +CRIES +[_Furiously keeping time with the blows showering upon_ CHANTECLER.] In +the neck! On the nut! On the wing! On the--[_Sudden silence._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Amazed._] What is this? The ring breaks up, the shouting dies--[_He +looks around. The_ WHITE PILE _has drawn away and backed against the +hedge. A strange commotion agitates the crowd._ CHANTECLER, _exhausted, +bleeding, tottering, does not understand, and murmurs._] What joke are +they preparing against my end? [_And suddenly._] Joy, Patou, joy! + +PATOU +What? + +CHANTECLER +I have done them an injustice. All of them, ceasing to insult and mock +me, look, gather round me, closer and closer--look! + +PATOU +[_Seeing them all, in fact, crowding around_ CHANTECLER, _and gazing +anxiously at the sky, looks up too, and says simply._] It is the hawk! + +CHANTECLER +Ah! [_A dark shadow slowly sweeps over the motley crowd, who crouch and +cower._] + +PATOU +When that great shadow falls, it is not the fine, strange Cocks we trust +to keep off the bird of prey! + +CHANTECLER +[_Suddenly grown great of size, his wounds forgotten, stands in the +midst of them, and in an authoritative tone._] Yes, close around me, all +of you, all! [_All, huddled in their feathers, their heads drawn in +between their wings, press against him._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Dear, brave, and gentle heart! + +CHANTECLER +[_The shadow sweeps over the crowd a second time. The_ GAME COCK _makes +himself small._ CHANTECLER _alone remains standing, in the midst of a +heap of ruffled, trembling feathers._] + +A HEN +[_Looking up at the_ HAWK.] Twice the black shadow has swept over us! + +CHANTECLER +[_Calling to the_ CHICKS, _who come madly running._] Chicks, come here +to me! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You take them under your wing? + +CHANTECLER +I must. Their mother is a box! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Looking upward._] He hovers over us--[_The shadow of the_ HAWK, +_circling lower and lower, passes for the third time, darker +than ever._] + +ALL +[_In a moan of fear._] Ah! + +CHANTECLER +[_Shouting toward the sky._] I am here! + +PATOU +He has heard your trumpet cry! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +He flies further. + +[_All rise with a joyous cry of deliverance, "Ah!" and go back to their +places to watch the end of the combat._] + +PATOU +Without loss of a moment they form the ring again. + +CHANTECLER +[_With a start._] What did you say? [_He looks. It is true, the ring has +immediately formed._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Now they want you killed to be revenged for their fine scare. + +CHANTECLER +But now I shall not be killed! I felt my strength come back when the +common enemy flew across the sky. [_Striding boldly up to the_ WHITE +PILE.] I got back my courage, fearing for the others. + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Amazed at being smartly attacked._] Whence has he drawn new strength? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Driven to bay, against the hedge, prepares to use his razors._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Screaming._] Look out! He has two sharp razors at his heels, the beast! + +CHANTECLER +I knew it! + +THE CAT +[_From his tree, to the_ GAME COCK.] Use your knives! + +PATOU +[_Ready to spring from his wheelbarrow._] If he uses those, I'll +strangle him, that's all! + +THE CROWD +Oh! + +PATOU +I will! Howl you never so loud! + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Feeling himself lost._] No help for it! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Closely watching him._] He is getting one of his razors ready! + +THE WHITE PILE +[_Striking with his sharp spur._] Take that! Die! [_He utters a terrible +cry, while_ CHANTECLER, _avoiding the blow, springs aside._] Ah! [_He +drops to the ground. Cry of amazement._] + +SEVERAL VOICES +What is it? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Who has hopped up to the fallen_ COCK _and examined him._] Nothing! +Merely he has dexterously slashed his left claw with his right! + +THE CROWD +[_Following and hooting the_ WHITE PILE, _who, having picked himself up, +limps off._] Hoo! Hoo! + +PATOU _and the_ PHEASANT-HEN +[_Laughing and weeping and talking, all in one, beside_ CHANTECLER, +_who stands motionless, utterly spent, with closed eyes._] Chantecler! +It is we! The Pheasant-hen! The Dog! Speak to us, speak! + +CHANTECLER +[_Opening his eyes, looks at them and says gently._] The day will rise +to-morrow! + + + +SCENE SIXTH + +THE SAME, _except the_ WHITE PILE + + +THE CROWD +[_After seeing the_ WHITE PILE _off, return tumultuously to_ CHANTECLER, +_hailing him with acclamations._] Hurrah! + +CHANTECLER +[_Drawing away from them, in a terrible voice._] Stand back! I know your +worth! [_The crowd hastily draws back._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Close by his side._] Come away to the woods, where true-hearted +animals live! + +CHANTECLER +No, I will stay here. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +After finding them out? + +CHANTECLER +After finding them out. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You will stay here? + +CHANTECLER +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! [_Obsequious movement of the crowd, +attempting to approach._] Back! All of you! I have nothing left but my +song! [ALL _draw away, and alone in his pride, he begins._] Co--[_To +himself, stiffening himself against pain._] Nothing left but my song, +therefore let us sing well! [_He tries again._] 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--[_Trying again, and ending in a raucous, abortive crow._] +Co--I cannot sing any more, I, whose method was not to know how, but be +quite certain why! [_In a cry, of despair._] I have nothing left! They +have taken everything from me, my song and everything else. How shall I +get it back? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Opening her wings._] Come away to the woods! + +CHANTECLER +[_Falling upon her breast._] I love you! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +To the woods, where the simple birds sing their sweet unconscious songs! + +CHANTECLER +Let us go! [_Both go toward the back._ CHANTECLER _turning._] But there +is one thing I wish to say-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Trying to lead him away._] Come to the woods! + +CHANTECLER +--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-- + +BUZZING OF BEES +_We agree--ee--ee_! + +CHANTECLER +Nothing good is ever accomplished in the midst of noise. Noise prevents +the bough-- + +BUZZING +[_Further off._] +_So say we--e--e! we--e--e_! + +CHANTECLER +--from bringing its apple to perfection, prevents the grape-- + +BUZZING +[_Dying away among the foliage._] _So say we--e--e_! + +CHANTECLER +--from ripening on the vine. [_Going toward the back with the_ +PHEASANT-HEN.] Let us go! [_Turning and coming again angrily toward the +front._] But I wish furthermore to say to these H--[_The_ PHEASANT-HEN +_lays her wing across his beak._]--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! +[_Imitating a servant girl calling_ CHICKENS _to feed._] For all those +charlatans are stalking appetites, and nothing more! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Trying to lead him off._] Come! Come! + +A HEN +She is eloping with him. + +CHANTECLER +I am coming! But--[_Coming forward again._] I must first say to this +Peacock, in the presence of that Addlepate--[_Indicating the_ +GUINEA-HEN.] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +He insults me in my own house. Sensational! + +CHANTECLER +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--[_Imitating the manner +of the_ PEACOCK.] shall I say bird-stuffer? + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Mechanically._] Yes! + +CHANTECLER +No. Taxidermist,--to use the word you would prefer. That, my dear +Peacock, is what I wished to say. + +THE BLACKBIRD +Bang! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning toward him._] As for you-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +Fire away! + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE BLACKBIRD +But-- + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +But-- + +CHANTECLER +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-- + +THE BLACKBIRD +But-- + +CHANTECLER +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--[_Turning to one of the exotic_ COCKS _cackling behind +him._] Silence, Cock of Japan! or I shall spoil a picture! + +THE JAPANESE COCK +[_Hurriedly._] I beg your pardon! + +CHANTECLER +[_Continuing to the_ BLACKBIRD.] 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! + +THE BLACKBIRD +A--? + +CHANTECLER +And your performance is a shine! + +THE BLACKBIRD +He can talk slang? + +CHANTECLER +I can talk anything!--It's the Paris article made in Germany! + +THE BLACKBIRD +But-- + +CHANTECLER +Fire away, I think you said. I hope you don't mind my air-gun? + +THE BLACKBIRD +I-- + +CHANTECLER +The Grand Master of Illuminations is entirely at your service. What do +you say? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Hastily._] Nothing! [_He tries to get away._] + +CHANTECLER +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!" + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Always applauding everything that is said at her receptions._] Good! +That was extremely good! + +A CHICKEN +[_To the crestfallen_ BLACKBIRD.] You will make him smart for this? + +THE BLACKBIRD +[_Prudently._] No. I will take it out on the Turkey. [_At this point a_ +VOICE _calls, "Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick!" and all the_ FANCY COCKS, +_rushing toward the irresistible call to food, hurry out, tumbling over +one another in their haste._] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Running after them._] Are you going? + +A PADUA COCK +[_The last to leave._] I beg to be excused! [_Disappears._] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_In the midst of the hubbub._] Are you going? Must you go? Oh, don't go +yet! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Come, my golden Pheasant! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Running to_ CHANTECLER.] Are you running away? + +CHANTECLER +To save my song! + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_Running to the_ YOUNG GUINEA-COCK.] My son, I am in such a state--I am +in such-- + +A HEN +[_Calling after_ CHANTECLER.] And when shall we see you again? + +CHANTECLER +[_Before going._] When you have grown teeth! [_Off with the_ +PHEASANT-HEN.] + +THE GUINEA-HEN +[_To the_ YOUNG GUINEA-COCK.] This has been quite the finest affair of +the season! [_Darting madly about among the departing guests._] Au +revoir! Mondays in August! Don't forget! + +THE MAGPIE +[_Announcing._] The Tortoise! + + + + + +ACT FOURTH + +THE NIGHT OF THE NIGHTINGALE + +_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_, RABBITS _are discovered on +every side among the underbrush, peacefully inhaling the evening air. A +time of serene silence and coolness._ + + +SCENE FIRST + +_A_ RABBIT _in front of his burrow_, CHOIR OF UNSEEN BIRDS. + + +A RABBIT +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. + +A VOICE +[_Among the branches._] O God of Birds! + +ANOTHER VOICE + O God of Birds! or, rather, for the Hawk + Has surely not the same God as the Wren, + O God of Little Birds! + +A THOUSAND VOICES +[_Among the leaves._] O God of Little Birds! + +FIRST VOICE + Who breathed into our wings to make us light, + And painted them with colours of His sky, + All thanks for this fair day, for meat and drink-- + Sweet sky-born water caught in cups of stone, + Sweet hedgerow berries washed of dust with dew, + And thanks for these good little eyes of ours + That spy the unseen enemies of man, + And thanks for the good tools by Thee bestowed + To aid our work of little gardeners, + Trowels and pruning-hooks of living horn. + +THE SECOND VOICE + To-morrow we will fight borer and blight, + Forgive Thy birds to-night their trespasses, + The stripping of a currant-bush or two! + +THE FIRST VOICE + Breathe on our bright round eyes and over them + The triple curtain of the lids will close. + If Man, the unjust, pay us by casting stones, + For filling field and wood and eaves with song, + For battling with the weevil for his bread, + If he lime twigs for us, if he spread snares, + Call to our memory Thy gentle Saint, + Thy good Saint Francis, that we may forgive + The cruelty of men because a man + Once called us brothers, "My brothers, the birds!" + +THE SECOND VOICE + Saint Francis of Assisi-- + +A THOUSAND VOICES +[_Among the leaves._] Pray for us! + +THE VOICE + Confessor of the mavis-- + +ALL THE VOICES + Pray for us! + +THE VOICE + Preacher to the swallows-- + +ALL THE VOICES + Pray for us! + +THE VOICE + O tender dreamer of a generous dream, + Who didst believe so surely in our soul + That, ever since, our soul, and ever more, + Affirms, defines itself-- + +ALL THE VOICES + Remember us! + +THE FIRST VOICE + And by the favour of thy prayers obtain + The needful daily sup and crumb! Amen. + +THE SECOND VOICE + Amen! + +ALL THE VOICES +[_In a murmur spreading to the uttermost ends of the forest._] Amen! + +CHANTECLER +[_Who, having a moment before stepped from the hollow tree, has stood +listening._] Amen! + +[_The shade has deepened and taken a bluer tinge. The spiderweb, touched +by a moonbeam, looks as if sifting silver dust. The_ PHEASANT-HEN _comes +from the tree and follows_ CHANTECLER _with little short +feminine steps._] + + + +SCENE SECOND + +CHANTECLER, _the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _from time to time the_ RABBITS, _now +and then the_ WOODPECKER. + + +CHANTECLER +How softly sleeps the moonlight on the ferns! Now is the time-- + +A LITTLE QUAVERING VOICE + Spider at night, + Bodeth delight! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Thanks, kind Spider! + +CHANTECLER +Now is the time-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Close behind him._] Now is the time to kiss me. + +CHANTECLER +All those Rabbits looking on make it a trifle-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Suddenly flaps her wings; the frightened_ RABBITS _start, on all sides +white tails disappear into rabbit-holes. The_ PHEASANT-HEN _coming back +to_ CHANTECLER.] There! [_They bill._] Do you love my forest? + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Imperiously._] But one song only! + +CHANTECLER +Yes. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +For a month I have only allowed you one song. + +CHANTECLER +[_Resignedly._] Yes. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And has the Sun not risen just the same? + +CHANTECLER +[_In a tone of unwilling admission._] The Sun has risen. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You see that one can have the Dawn at a smaller cost. Is the sky any +less red for your only crowing once? + +CHANTECLER +No. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Well then? [_Offering her bill._] A kiss! [_Finding his kiss +absent-minded._] You are thinking of something else. Please attend! +[_Reverting to her idea._] 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! + +CHANTECLER +[_With conviction._] Yes, but you are there, you see. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +It is barbarous anyhow to keep up a perpetual cockaduddling when I am +trying to sleep. + +CHANTECLER +[_Gently correcting her._] Doodling, dearest. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Duddling is correct. + +CHANTECLER +Doodling. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Raising her head toward the top of the tree and calling._] Mr. +Woodpecker! [_To_ CHANTECLER.] We will ask the learned gentleman in the +green coat. [_To the_ WOODPECKER _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._] Do you say cockaduddling +or cockadoodling? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Bending a long professorial bill._] Both. + +CHANTECLER _and the_ PHEASANT-HEN +[_Turning to each other, triumphantly._] Ah! + +THE WOODPECKER +Duddling is more tender, doodling more poetic. [_He disappears._] + +CHANTECLER +It is for you I cockaduddle! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Yes, but you cockadoodle for the Dawn! + +CHANTECLER +[_Going toward her._] I do believe you are jealous! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Retreating coquettishly._] Do you love me more than her? + +CHANTECLER +[_With a cry of warning._] Be careful, a snare! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Jumping aside._] Ready to spring! [_Dimly visible against a tree, is, +in fact, a spread bird-net._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Examining it._] A dangerous contrivance. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Forbidden by the game-laws of 44. + +CHANTECLER +[_Laughing._] Do you know that? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You seem to forget that the object of your affections comes under the +head of game. + +CHANTECLER +[_With a touch of sadness._] It is true that we are of different kinds. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Returning to his side with a hop._] I want you to love me more than +her. Say it's me you love most. Say it's me! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Reappearing._] I! + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking up._] Not in a love-scene. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To the_ WOODPECKER.] See here,--you! Be so kind another time as to knock! + +WOODPECKER +[_Disappearing._] Certainly. Certainly. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] He has a bad habit of thrusting his bill between the +bark and the tree, but he is a rare scholar, exceptionally well +informed-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Absent-mindedly._] On what subjects? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The language of birds. + +CHANTECLER +Indeed? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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. + +CHANTECLER +They talk Japanese. [_The_ WOODPECKER _knocks three times with his bill +on the tree: Rat-tat-tat!_] Come in! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Appearing, indignant._] Japanese, did you say? + +CHANTECLER +Yes. Some of them say, Tio! Tio! and others say Tzoui! Tzoui! + +THE WOODPECKER +Birds have talked Greek ever since Aristophanes! + +CHANTECLER +[_Rushing to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Oh, for the love of Greek! [_They bill._] + +THE WOODPECKER +Know, profane youth, that the Black-chat's cry Ouis-ouis-tra-tra, is a +corruption of the word Lysistrata! [_Disappears._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] Will you never love anyone but me? + +[THE WOODPECKER'S _knock is heard: Rat-tat-tat._] + +CHANTECLER +Come in! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] Do you promise? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Appears, soberly nodding his red cap._] Tiri-para! sings the small +sedge-warbler to the reeds. Incontrovertibly from the Greek. _Para,_ +along, and the word water is understood. [_Disappears._] + +CHANTECLER +He has Greek on the brain! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Reverting to her idea._] Am I the whole, whole world to you? + +CHANTECLER +Of course you are, only-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +In my green-sleeved Oriental robe, I look to you--how do I look? + +CHANTECLER +Like a living commandment ever to worship that which comes from the East. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Exasperated._] Will you stop thinking of the light of day, and think +only of the light in my eyes? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The Dawn! Always the Dawn! Be careful, Chantecler I shall do something +rash! [_Going toward the Back._] + +CHANTECLER +You will infallibly do as you like. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +In the glade not long ago I met the--[_She catches herself and stops +short, intentionally._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Looks at her, and in an angry cry._] The Pheasant? [_With sudden +violence._] Promise me that you will never again go to the glade! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Assured of her power over him, with a bound returns to his side._] And +you, promise that you will love me more than the Light! + +CHANTECLER +[_Sorrowfully._] Oh! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +That you will not sing-- + +CHANTECLER +More than one song, we have settled that point. [_Rat-tat-tat, from the_ +WOODPECKER.] Come in! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Appearing and pointing with his bill at the net._] The snare! The +farmer placed it there. He declared he would capture the Pheasant-hen. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +He flatters himself! + +THE WOODPECKER +And that he would keep you on his farm. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Indignant._] Alive? [_To_ CHANTECLER, _in a tone of reproach._] Your +farm! + +CHANTECLER +[_Seeing a_ RABBIT _who has returned to the edge of his hole._] Ah, +there comes a Rabbit! + +THE RABBIT +[_Showing the snare to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] You know if you put your foot +on that spring-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In a tone of superiority._] 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. [_To_ CHANTECLER.] On your farm, which you secretly +yearn for. + +CHANTECLER +[_In a voice of injured innocence._] I? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_To the_ RABBIT, _giving him a light tap with her wing to send him +home._] 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. + +CHANTECLER +That's it, you go and fool the dogs! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Starts of, then returns._] You are homesick for that wretched old farm +of yours? + +CHANTECLER +I? I? [_She goes off. He repeats indignantly._] I? [_Watching her out of +sight, then, dropping his voice, to the_ WOODPECKER.] She is not coming +back, is she? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Who from his high window in the tree can look off._] No. + + + +SCENE THIRD + +CHANTECLER, THE WOODPECKER. + + +CHANTECLER +[_Eagerly._] Keep watch! They are going to talk with me from home. + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Interested._] Who? + +CHANTECLER +The Blackbird. + +THE WOODPECKER +I thought he hated you. + +CHANTECLER +He came near it, but the Blackbird cast of mind admits of compromise, +and it amuses him to keep me informed. + +THE WOODPECKER +Is he coming? + +CHANTECLER +[_Who is a different bird since the_ PHEASANT-HEN'S _exit, +light-hearted, boyishly cheerful._] 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. [_Going +to the convolvulus._] So that by talking into its chalice--[_He plunges +his bill into one of the trembling milky trumpets._] Hello! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Nodding to himself._] From the Greek, _allos_, another. +He talks with another. + +CHANTECLER +Hello! The Blackbird, please! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Keeping watch._] Most imprudent, this is! To choose among the +convolvuli exactly the one which-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Lighter and lighter of mood, returning to the_ WOODPECKER.] But it's +the only one open all night! When the Blackbird answers, the Bee who +sleeps in the flower wakes up and we-- + +THE BEE +[_Inside the convolvulus._] Vrrrrrrrrr! + +CHANTECLER +[_Briskly running to the flower and listening at the horn-shaped +receiver._] Ah? This morning, did you say? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Filled with curiosity._] What is it? + +CHANTECLER +[_In a voice of sudden emotion._] Thirty chicks have been born! +[_Listening again._] Briffaut, the hunting-dog, is ill? [_As if +something interfered with his hearing._] I believe it is the +Dragon-flies, deafening us with the crackling of their wings--[_Shouting._] +Will you be so kind, young ladies, as not to cut us off? [_Listening._] +And big Julius obliges Patou to go with him on his hunting expeditions? +[_To the_ WOODPECKER.] Ah, you ought to know my friend Patou! [_Burying +his bill again in the flower._] So? Without me everything goes wrong? Yes! +[_With satisfaction._] Yes! Waste and carelessness naturally! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Who has been keeping watch, warns him suddenly under breath._] Here +she comes! + +CHANTECLER +[_With his bill in the flower._] Indeed? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Fluttering desperately._] Hush! + +CHANTECLER +The Ducks spent the night under the cart, did they? + +THE WOODPECKER +Pst! + + + +SCENE FOURTH +THE SAME, THE PHEASANT-HEN + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Who has come upon the scene, with a threatening gesture at the_ +WOODPECKER.] Go inside! [_The_ WOOD PECKER _precipitately disappears. +She stands listening to_ CHANTECLER.] + +CHANTECLER +[_In the convolvulus, more and more deeply interested._] You don't mean +it! What, all of them?--Yes?--No--Oh!--Well, well!--Is that so? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Who has timidly come back, aside._] Oh, that an ant of the heaviest +might weigh down his tongue! + +CHANTECLER +[_Talking into the flower._] So soon? The Peacock out of fashion? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Trying to get_ CHANTECLER'S _attention behind the_ PHEASANT-HEN'S +_back._] Pst! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Turning around, furious._] You!--You had better! [_The_ WOODPECKER +_alertly retires, bumping his head._] + +CHANTECLER +[_In the flower._] An elderly Cock?--I hope that the Hens--? [_With +intonations more and more expressive of relief._] Ah, that's right! +that's right! that's right! [_He ends, with evident lightening of the +heart._] A father! [_As if answering a question._] Do I sing? Yes, but +far away from here, at the water-side. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Oh! + +CHANTECLER +[_With a tinge of bitterness._] 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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Approaching from behind with threatening countenance._] Oh! + +CHANTECLER +As soon as the beauteous eye which enthralls me-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Pausing._] Oh! + +CHANTECLER +--closes, and in her surpassing loveliness she sleeps-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Delighted._] Ah! + +CHANTECLER +I make my escape. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Furious._] Oh! + +CHANTECLER +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! [_Laughing._] For with a whisk of my wing I brush my feet clear +of the tell-tale silveriness! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Close behind him._] You brush your--? + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning._] Ouch! [_Into the convolvulus._] No nothing! I--Later!--Ouch! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Violently._] So! So! Not only you keep up an interest in the fidelity +of your old flames-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Evasively._] Oh! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You furthermore-- + +CHANTECLER +I-- + +THE BEE +[_Inside the morning-glory._] Vrrrrrrr! + +CHANTECLER +[_Placing his wing over the flower._] I-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +You deceive me to the point of remembering to brush off your feet! + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +This clodhopper, see now, whom I picked up off his haystack--and to rule +alone in his soul is apparently quite beyond my power! + +CHANTECLER +[_Collecting himself and straightening up._] When one dwells in a soul, +it is better, believe me, to meet with the Dawn there, than +with nothing. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Angrily._] No! the Dawn defrauds me of a great and undivided love! + +CHANTECLER +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? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Coming and going stormily._] I will sweep everything aside with my +golden russet wing! + +CHANTECLER +And who are you, bent upon such tremendous sweeping [_They stand rigid +and erect in front of each other, looking defiance into each +other's eyes._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The Pheasant-hen I am, who have assumed the golden plumage of the +arrogant male! + +CHANTECLER +Remaining in spite of all a female, whose eternal rival is the Idea! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In a great cry._] Hold me to your heart and be still! + +CHANTECLER +[_Crushing her brutally to him._] Yes, I strain you to my Cock's +heart--[_With infinite regret._] Better it were I had folded you to my +Awakener's soul! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +To deceive me for the Dawn's sake! Very well, however much you may abhor +it, you shall for my sake deceive the Dawn. + +CHANTECLER +I? How? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Stamping her foot; in a capricious tone._] It is my formal and +explicit wish-- + +CHANTECLER +But listen, dear-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +My formal and explicit wish that you should for one whole day refrain +altogether from singing. + +CHANTECLER +That I-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I desire you to remain one whole day without singing. + +CHANTECLER +But, heavens and earth, am I to leave the valley in total darkness? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Pouting._] What harm will it do to the valley? + +CHANTECLER +Whatever lies too long in darkness and sleep becomes used to falsehood +and consents to death. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Leave singing for one day--[_In a tone of evil insinuation._] It will +free my mind of certain suspicions troubling it. + +CHANTECLER +[_With a start._] I can see what you are trying to do! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And I can see what you are afraid of! + +CHANTECLER +[_Earnestly._] I will never give up singing. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And what if you were mistaken? What if the truth were that Dawn comes +without help from you? + +CHANTECLER +[_With fierce resolution._] I shall not know it. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In a sudden burst of tears._] Could you not forget the time, for once, +if you saw me weeping? + +CHANTECLER +No, I could not. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Nothing, ever, can make you forget the time? + +CHANTECLER +Nothing. I am conscious of darkness as too heavy a weight. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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! [_With contemptuous pity._] 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? + +CHANTECLER +I know, you are trying now to reach me through my pride, but-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Reappearing._] From the Greek: Pure, _puros._ + +CHANTECLER +No more from you, please! [_The_ WOODPECKER _hurriedly withdraws._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Insisting._] The echo must make some rather interesting mental +reservations, one fancies, when he hears you sing after hearing the +great Nightingale! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning to leave._] My nerves, my dear girl, are not of the very +steadiest to-night. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Following._] Did you ever hear him? + +CHANTECLER +Never. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +His song is so wonderful that the first time--[_She stops short, struck +by an idea._] Oh! + +CHANTECLER +What is it? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Aside._] Ah, you feel the weight of the darkness-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Coming forward again._] What? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_With an ironical curtsey._] Nothing! [_Carelessly._] Let us go to +roost! [CHANTECLER _goes to the back and is preparing to rise to a +branch. The_ PHEASANT-HEN _aside._] 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. + +CHANTECLER +[_As she does not join him, returns to her._] What are you saying? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Laughing in his face._] Nothing! + +A VOICE +[_Outside._] The illustrious Cock? + +CHANTECLER +[_Looking around him._] I am wanted? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Who has gone in the direction from whence came the voice._] There, in +the grass! [_Jumping back._] Mercy upon us! They are the--[_With a +movement of insuperable disgust._] They are the--[_With a spring she +conceals herself in the hollow tree, calling back to_ CHANTECLER.] Be +civil to them! + + + +SCENE FIFTH + +CHANTECLER, _the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _hidden in the tree, and the_ TOADS. + + +A BIG TOAD +[_Rearing himself in the grass._] We have come--[_Other_ TOADS _become +visible behind him._] + +CHANTECLER +Ye gods, how ugly they are! + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Obsequiously._]--in behalf of all the thinking contingency of the +Forest, to the author of so many songs--[_He places his hand on +his heart._] + +CHANTECLER +[_With disgust._] Oh, that hand spread over his paunch! + +THE BIG TOAD +[_With a hop toward_ CHANTECLER.]--at once novel,-- + +ANOTHER TOAD +[_Same business._] Pellucid! + +ANOTHER +[_Same business._] Succinct! + +ANOTHER +[_Same business._] Vital! + +ANOTHER +[_Same business._] Pure! + +ANOTHER +[_Same business._] Great! + +CHANTECLER +Gentlemen, pray be seated. [_They seat themselves around a large +toadstool._] + +THE BIG TOAD +True, we are ugly-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Politely._] You have fine eyes. + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Raising himself by bearing with both hands upon the rim of the +toadstool._] But, Knights of this fungoid Round Table, we desire to do +homage to the Parsifal who has given to the world a sublime song-- + +SECOND TOAD +A true song! + +THE BIG TOAD +And a celestial! + +THIRD TOAD +And a no less terrestrial! + +THE BIG TOAD +[_With authority._] A song by comparison with which the song of the +Nightingale sinks into insignificance! + +CHANTECLER +[_Astonished._] The Nightingale's song? + +SECOND TOAD +[_In a tone of finality._] Is not a circumstance to yours! + +THE BIG TOAD +[_With a hop._] It was high time that a new singer-- + +ANOTHER +[_Same business._] And a new song-- + +FIFTH TOAD +[_Quickly, to his neighbour._] And a song by a stranger-- + +THE BIG TOAD +Came to change conditions here. + +CHANTECLER +Ah, I shall change conditions? + +ALL +Glory to the Cock! + +CHANTECLER +I do not see that the forest thinks so poorly of me after all! + +THE BIG TOAD +Played out, the Nightingale! + +CHANTECLER +[_More and more surprised._] Really? + +SECOND TOAD +More and more his song confesses itself effete-- + +THE BIG TOAD +Mawkish! + +THIRD TOAD +Null! + +FOURTH +[_Contemptuously._] And his old-fashioned pretense of inspiration! + +FIFTH TOAD +And the name he has adopted: Bul-bul! + +ALL THE TOADS +[_Puffing with laughter._] Bul-bul! + +THE BIG TOAD +This is the way he goes on: [_Parodying the song of the_ NIGHTINGALE.] +Tio! Tio! + +SECOND TOAD +His solitary idea is an old silver trill copied from the bubbling +spring. [_He imitates in grotesque fashion the singing of the_ +NIGHTINGALE.] Tio! Tio! + +CHANTECLER +But-- + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Quickly._] Do not attempt, you, the Renovator of Art, to defend that +ancient high authority on sentimental gargling! + +SECOND TOAD +That superannuated tenor quavering out his cavatinas to the glory of +minor poetry and the edification of fogydom! + +THIRD TOAD +The Harp that twanged through Tara's hall, and insists on twanging +still! + +CHANTECLER +[_Indulgently._] But why should he not, after all, if he enjoys it? + +THE BIG TOAD +Endeavouring to impose on a suffering and surfeited public the musty old +fashion of ingenious fioritura! + +CHANTECLER +Audiences nowadays, of course, look for a different sort of thing. + +THIRD TOAD +Your song has exposed the artificiality of his. + +ALL +[_In an explosion._] Down with Bul-bul! + +CHANTECLER +[_Whom the_ TOADS _have gradually surrounded._] Gentlemen and honored +Batrachians, my voice, it is true, gives forth natural notes-- + +THE BIG TOAD +Yes, notes which lend us wings-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Modestly._] Oh! + +ALL +[_Waggling their bodies as if about to fly._] Wings! + +THE BIG TOAD +Their secret being that they sing Life! + +CHANTECLER +That is true. + +SECOND TOAD +Yes, my dear fellow, Life! + +CHANTECLER +[_With careless complacency._] My crest for that reason is flesh and blood! + +ALL THE TOADS +[_Clapping their little hands._] Good, very good! + +THE BIG TOAD +That formula is a programme. + +SECOND TOAD +Since we are assembled around a table, why should we not offer to the +Chief-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Modestly, hanging back from the suggested honour._]Gentlemen-- + +SECOND TOAD +--to the Chief of whom we stood in notable need, a banquet? + +ALL +[_Beating enthusiastically upon the toadstool._] A banquet! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Looking out from the tree._] What is the matter? + +CHANTECLER +[_In spite of all, rather flattered._] A banquet! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Slightly ironical._] Shall you accept? + +CHANTECLER +You see, my dear--the new tendencies--Art,--the thinking contingency of +the Forest--[_Indicating the_ TOADS.] Yes, I have lent wings to--[_In a +light and careless tone._] It's all up with the Nightingale, you see. +Musty old method! Antiquated trill! This is the way he goes on--[_To +the_ TOADS.] How was it you said he went on? + +ALL THE TOADS +[_Comically._] Tio! Tio! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _with pitying indulgence._] He goes on like +this: Tio! Tio! And I believe I need not scruple to accept-- + +A VOICE +[_In the tree above him breaks forth in a long note, limpid, and +heart-moving._] Tio! [_Silence._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Startled, raising his head._] What was that? + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Quickly, visibly embarrassed._] Nothing! It is he! + +THE VOICE +[_Slowly and wonderfully, with the sigh of a soul in every note._] Tio! +Tio! Tio! Tio! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turning upon the_ TOADS.] Scum of the earth! + +THE TOADS +[_Backing away from him._] What--? + + + +SCENE SIXTH + +THE SAME, _the_ NIGHTINGALE _unseen, and little by little all the_ +FOREST CREATURES. + + +THE NIGHTINGALE +[_From the tree, in his emotionally throbbing voice._] Tiny bird, lost +in the darkness of the tree, I feel myself turning into the heart-beat +of the infinite night! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ TOADS.] And you have dared-- + +THE NIGHTINGALE +Hushed lies the ravine beneath the magic of the moon-- + +CHANTECLER +--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! + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Suddenly swelling to a great size._] Toads! Yes, as it happens, we are +Toads! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +Vapour of pearl wreathes the summits in an ethereal veil-- + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Self-appreciatively._] We are Toads, certainly, magnificently embossed +with warts! [_All rear themselves up, swollen, standing between_ +CHANTECLER _and the tree._] + +CHANTECLER +And I perceived not, I who have never known envy, to what venomous feast +I was bidden! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +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! + +CHANTECLER +[_With religious fervour._] Sing! + +A TOAD +[_Who has hastily dragged himself to the tree in which the_ NIGHTINGALE +_is singing._] Let us clasp the bark with our slimy little arms, and +slaver upon the foot of the tree! [_All crawl toward the tree._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Trying to stop one of them who is clumsily hopping._] But are you not +yourself gifted with a singing voice of exceptional purity? + +THE TOAD +[_In a tone of sincerest suffering._] I am, but when I hear somebody +else singing, I can't help it,--I see green! [_He joins his +companions._] + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Working his jaws as if chewing something which foamed._] There foam up +beneath our tongues I know not what strange soapsuds, and--[_To his +neighbour._] Are you frothing? + +THE OTHER +I am frothing. + +ANOTHER +He is frothing. + +ALL +We are frothing. + +A TOAD +[_Tenderly laying his arm about the neck of a dilatory_ TOAD.] Come and +froth! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ NIGHTINGALE.] But will they not trouble and prevent your +mellifluent song? + +THE NIGHTINGALE +In no wise. I will take their refrain into my song-- + +THE BIG TOAD +[_Patting a little_ TOAD _on the head to encourage him._] Don't be +afraid, go ahead,--froth! + +THE TOADS +[_All together, at the base of the tree to which they form a crawling, +writhing girdle._] The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +--And make of both a Villanelle! + +THE TOADS +We welter in malignity! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +The while they fume beneath my tree I fill with song the enchanted dell-- + +THE TOADS +The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we! [_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._] + +THE NIGHTINGALE _and_ THE TOADS, _alternately_ + I sing! for Wind, that harper free, + And music bubbling from the well-- + --We welter in malignity!-- + + And fragrance floating from the lea, + Of meadow-sweet and pimpernel-- + --The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!-- + + And Luna showering ecstasy, + All weave so wonderful a spell-- + --We welter in malignity!-- + + Its melting magic moveth me + The secret of my heart to tell! + --The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!-- + + Within my heart all sympathy, + Within mine eye all visions dwell-- + --We welter in malignity!-- + + Life, Death, I turn to rhapsody, + Who am the deathless Philomel! + --The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we, + Who welter in malignity! + +CHANTECLER +Beside those heavenly pipes, ah, me! my voice is Punchinello's squeak! +Sing on! Sing on! The Croakers are in retreat. + +THE TOADS +[_Retreating, overcome by the conquering song._] Croak! croak! + +CHANTECLER +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-- + +THE TOADS +[_From the underbrush._] Croak! croak! + +CHANTECLER +A doe, look! tiptoeing on delicate hoofs, followed by a wolf who has +forgotten to be a wolf-- + +THE TOADS +[_Lost among the grass._] Croak! + +CHANTECLER +The squirrel steals down from the lofty tree-tops. The whole vast forest +is stirred by a thrill of brotherliness. + +THE TOADS +[_Out of sight._]--roak! + +CHANTECLER +The echo alone now repeats-- + +FAINT DISTANT VOICE +--oak! + +CHANTECLER +Gone! Gone are the Toads! + +[_Music holds the night: a song without words, delicate volleys of +rapturous notes._] + +CHANTECLER +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. + +ALL THE FOREST +[_In a moan of ecstasy._] Ah! + +[_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_ WOODPECKER _stands at his bark window, dreamily nodding; all the_ +RABBITS, _with uppricked ears, sit at their earthen doors._] + +CHANTECLER +When he sings thus without words, what is he singing, Squirrel? + +THE SQUIRREL +[_From a tree-top._] The joy of swift motion. + +CHANTECLER +And what say you, Hare? + +THE HARE +[_In the coppice._] The thrill of fear! + +CHANTECLER +You, Rabbit? + +ONE OF THE RABBITS +The Dew! + +CHANTECLER +You, Doe? + +THE DOE +[_From the depths of the woods._] Tears! + +CHANTECLER +Wolf? + +THE WOLF +[_In a gentle distant howl._] The Moon! + +CHANTECLER +And you, Tree with the golden wound, singing Pine? + +THE PINE-TREE +[_Softly beating time with one of its boughs._] He tells me that my +drops of resin in the form of rosin will sing upon the bows of violins! + +CHANTECLER +And you, Woodpecker, what does he say to you? + +THE WOODPECKER +[_In ecstasy._] He says that Aristophanes-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Promptly interrupting him._] Never mind! I know! You, Spider? + +THE SPIDER +[_Swinging at the end of one of her threads._] He sings of the raindrop +sparkling in my web like a royal gift. + +CHANTECLER +And you, Drop of Water, sparkling in her web? + +A LITTLE VOICE +[_From the cobweb._] Of the Glow-worm! + +CHANTECLER +And you, Glow-worm? + +A LITTLE VOICE +[_In the grass._]Of the Star! + +CHANTECLER +And you, if one may so far presume as to question you, of what does he +sing to you, Star? + +A VOICE +[_In the sky._] Of the Shepherd! + +CHANTECLER +Ah, what fountain is it-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Who is watching the horizon between the trees._] The darkness is +lightening. + +CHANTECLER +What fountain, in which each finds water for his thirst? [_Listening +with greater attention._] To me he speaks of the Day, which arises and +shines at my song! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Aside._] And speaks of it so eloquently that for once you will forget it! + +CHANTECLER +[_Noticing a_ BIRD _who having come a little way out of the thicket is +beatifically listening._] And how do you, Snipe, translate his poem? + +THE SNIPE +I don't know. I only know I like it--It is sweet! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Who is not lured--she!--into forgetting to watch the +sky between the branches, aside._] The night is wearing +away! + +CHANTECLER +[_To the_ NIGHTINGALE, _in a discouraged voice._] 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? + +THE NIGHTINGALE +But you must! + +CHANTECLER +Shall I find it possible ever again to sing? My song, alas, must seem to +me always after this too brutal and too red! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +I have sometimes thought that mine was too facile, perhaps, and too blue! + +CHANTECLER +Oh, how can you humble yourself to make such a confession to me? + +THE NIGHTINGALE +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! + +CHANTECLER +[_With passionate desire._] Oh, to be a sound that soothes and lulls! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +To be a splendid call to duty! + +CHANTECLER +I make nobody weep! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +I awaken nobody! [_But after the expression of this regret, he continues +in an ever higher and more lyrical voice._] 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--[_A shot. A flash +from the thicket. Brief silence, then a small, tawny body drops at_ +CHANTECLER'S _feet._] + +CHANTECLER +[_Bending and looking._] The Nightingale!--The brutes! [_And without +noticing the vague, earliest tremour of daylight spreading through the +air, he cries in a sob._] Killed! And he had sung such a little, little +while! [_One or two feathers slowly flutter down._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +His feathers! + +CHANTECLER +[_Bending over the body which is shaken by a last throe._] Peace, little +poet! + +[_Rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs; from a thicket projects_ +PATOU'S _shaggy head._] + + + +SCENE SEVENTH + +_The same_, PATOU, _emerging for a moment from the brush._ + + +CHANTECLER +[_To_ PATOU.] You! [_Reproachfully._] You have come to get him? + +PATOU +[_Ashamed._] Forgive me! The poacher compels me-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Who had sprung before the body, to protect it, uncovers it._] A +Nightingale! + +PATOU +[_Hanging his head._] Yes. The evil race of man loves to shower lead +into a singing tree. + +CHANTECLER +See, the burying beetle has already come. + +PATOU +[_Gently withdrawing._] I will make believe I found nothing. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Watching the day break._] He has not noticed that night is nearly over. + +CHANTECLER +[_Bending over the grasses which begin to stir about the dead bird._] +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. [_To the funeral +insects, while the_ NIGHTINGALE _begins gently to sink into the +ground._] Piously dig his grave! Light lie the earth upon him! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Aside, looking at the horizon._] Over there-- + +CHANTECLER +Verily, verily, I say unto you, Bul-bul to-night shall see the Bird of +Paradise! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Aside._] The sky is turning white! [_A whistle is heard in the +distance._] + +PATOU +[_To_ CHANTECLER.] I will come back. He is whistling me. [_Disappears._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Restlessly dividing her attention between the horizon and the_ COCK.] +How can I conceal from him--[_She moves tenderly toward_ CHANTECLER, +_opening her wings so as to hide the brightening East, and taking +advantage of his grief._] Come and weep beneath my wing! [_With a sob he +lays his head beneath the comforting wing which is quickly clapped over +him. And the_ PHEASANT-HEN _gently lulls him, murmuring._] You see that +my wing is soft and comforting! You see-- + +CHANTECLER +[_In a smothered voice._] Yes! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Gently rocks him, darting a glance now and then over her shoulder to +see how the dawn is progressing._] You see that a wing is an outspread +heart--[_Aside._] Day is breaking! [_To_ CHANTECLER.] You see +that--[_Aside._] The sky has paled! [_To_ CHANTECLER.]--that a wing +is--[_Aside._] The tree is steeped in rosy light! [_To_ +CHANTECLER.]--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--[_With a backward leap, suddenly withdrawing her wings._] +the Day can break perfectly well without you! + +CHANTECLER +[_With the greatest cry of anguish possible to created being._] Ah! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Continuing inexorably._] That the mosses in a moment will be scarlet! + +CHANTECLER +[_Running toward the moss._] Ah, no! No! Not without me! [_The moss +flushes red._] Ungrateful! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The horizon-- + +CHANTECLER +[_Imploringly, to the horizon._] No! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +--is glowing gold! + +CHANTECLER +[_Staggering._] Treachery! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +One may be all in all to another heart, you see, one can be nothing to +the sky! + +CHANTECLER +[_Swooning._] It is true! + +PATOU +[_Returning, cheery and cordial._] 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! + +CHANTECLER +They believe that now I have ceased to believe it! + +PATOU +[_Stopping short, amazed._] What do you mean? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Bitterly pressing close to_ CHANTECLER.] You see that a heart pressing +against your own is better than a sky which does not in the very +least need you. + +CHANTECLER +Yes! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +That darkness after all may be as sweet as light if there are two +close-clasped in the shade. + +CHANTECLER +[_Wildly._] Yes! Yes! [_But suddenly leaving her side he raises his head +and in a ringing voice._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Taken aback._] Why are you crowing? + +CHANTECLER +As a warning to myself,--for thrice have I denied the thing I love! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +And what is that? + +CHANTECLER +My life's work! [_To_ PATOU.] Up and about! Come, let us go! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +What are you going to do? + +CHANTECLER +Follow my calling. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But what night is there for you to rout? + +CHANTECLER +The night of the eyelid! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Pointing toward the growing glory of the dawn._] Very well, you will +rouse sleepers-- + +CHANTECLER +And Saint Peter! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But can you not see that Day has risen without the benefit of your crowing? + +CHANTECLER +I am more sure of my destiny than of the daylight before my eyes. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Pointing at the_ NIGHTINGALE _who has already half disappeared into +the earth._] Your faith can no more return to life than can that +dead bird. + +[_From the tree above their heads suddenly rings forth the +heart-stirring, limpid, characteristic note: Tio! Tio!_] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Struck with amazement._] Is it another singing? + +PATOU +[_With quivering ear._] And singing still better, if possible. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Looking up in a sort of terror at the foliage, and then down at the +little grave._] Another takes up the song when this one disappears? + +THE VOICE +In the forest must always be a Nightingale! + +CHANTECLER +[_With exaltation._] And in the soul a faith so faithful that it comes +back even after it has been slain. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But if the Sun is climbing up the sky? + +CHANTECLER +There must have been left in the air some power from my yesterday's song. + +[_Flights of noiseless grey wings pass among the trees._] + +THE OWLS +[_Hooting joyfully._] He kept still! + +PATOU +[_Raising his head and looking after them._] The Owls, fleeing from the +newly risen light, are coming home to the woods. + +THE OWLS +[_Returning to their holes in the old trees._] He kept still! + +CHANTECLER +[_With all his strength come back to him._] The proof that I was serving +the cause of light when I sang is that the Owls are glad of my silence. +[_Going to the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _with defiance in his mien._] I make the +Dawn appear, and I do more than that! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Choking._] You do-- + +CHANTECLER +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! [_Turning to go._] Back to our work! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +But how find courage to work after doubting the work's value? + +CHANTECLER +Buckle down to work! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_With angry stubbornness._] But if you have nothing whatever to do with +making the morning? + +CHANTECLER +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! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +When will that be? + +CHANTECLER +One Day! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Go, go, and forget our forest! + +CHANTECLER +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. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_In a voice which she does her best to make insulting._] Go and get +into your hen-house by the way of a ladder. + +CHANTECLER +The birds have taught me that I can use my wings to go in. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Go and see your old Hen in her old broken basket. + +CHANTECLER +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? + +PATOU +[_Imitating the_ OLD HEN'S _affectionate quaver._] How that Chick has +grown! + +CHANTECLER +[_Emphatically._] Of course she will! [_Turning to leave._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +He is going! When faithless they turn to leave, oh, that we had arms, +arms to hold them fast,--but we have only wings! + +CHANTECLER +[_Stops short and looks at her, troubled._] She weeps? + +PATOU +[_Hastily, pushing him along with his paw._] Hurry up! + +CHANTECLER +[_To_ PATOU.] Wait a moment. + +PATOU +I am willing. Nothing can sit so patiently and watch the dropping of +tears as an old dog. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Crying to_ CHANTECLER, _with a leap toward him._] Take me with you! + +CHANTECLER +[_Turns and in an inflexible voice._] Will you consent to stand second +to the Dawn? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Fiercely drawing back._] Never! + +CHANTECLER +Then farewell! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I hate you! + +CHANTECLER +[_Already at some distance among the brush._] 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! [_He +disappears._] + + + +SCENE EIGHTH + +THE PHEASANT-HEN, PATOU, _later the_ WOODPECKER, RABBITS, _and, all the_ +VOICES _of the awakening forest._ + + +PATOU +[_To the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] Mourn! + +THE SPIDER +[_In the centre of her-web which now sifts the gold dust of a sunbeam._] + Spider at morn, + Cometh to warn! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Furiously, tearing down the cobweb with a brush of her wing._] Be +still, hateful Spider!--Oh, may he perish for having disdained me! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Who from his window has been watching_ CHANTECLER'S _departure, +suddenly, frightened._] The poacher has seen him! + +THE OWLS +[_In the trees._] The Cock is in danger! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Leaning out to see better._] He breaks his gun in two! + +PATOU +[_Alarmed._] To load it! Is that murderous fool in sheepskin gaiters +going to fire upon a rooster? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Spreading her wings to rise._] Not if he sees a pheasant! + +PATOU +[_Springing before her._] What are you doing? + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Following my calling! [_She flies toward the danger._] + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Seeing that in her upward swing she must touch the spring of the +forgotten snare._] Look out for the snare! [_Too late. The net falls._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Utters a cry of despair._] Ah! + +PATOU +She is caught! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Struggling in the net._] He is lost! + +PATOU +[_Wildly._] She is--He is-- + +[_All the_ RABBITS _have thrust out their heads to see._] + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Crying in an ardent prayer._] Daybreak protect him! + +THE OWLS +[_Rocking themselves gleefully among the branches._] The gun-barrel +shines, shines-- + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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! + +THE NIGHTINGALE +[_In a supplicating sob._] He fought for a friend of mine, the Rose! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +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! + +[_Daylight grows. On all sides, rustles and murmurs._] + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Singing._] The air is blue! + +A CROW +[_Cawing as he flies past._] Daylight grows! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +The forest is astir-- + +ALL THE BIRDS +[_Waking among the trees._] Good-morning! Good-morning! Good-morning! +Good-morning! Good-morning! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Everyone sings! + +A JAY +[_Darting past like a streak of blue lightning._] Ha, ha! + +THE WOODPECKER +The Jay shakes with homeric laughter. + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Crying in the midst of the music of the morning._] Let him live! + +THE JAY +[_Again darting past._] Ha, ha! + +A CUCKOO +[_In the distance._] Cuckoo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +I abdicate! + +PATOU +[_Lifting his eyes heavenward._] She abdicates! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +Forgive, O Light, to whom I dared dispute him! Dazzle the eye taking +aim, and be victory awarded, O Sunbeams-- + +THE JAY _and the_ CUCKOO +[_Far away._] Ha! Cuckoo! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +--to your powder of gold--[_A shot. She gives a sharp cry, ending in a +dying voice._]--over man's black powder! [_Silence._] + +CHANTECLER'S VOICE +[_Very far away._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! + +ALL +[_In a glad cry._] Saved! + +THE RABBITS +[_Capering gaily out of their burrows._] Let us turn somersets among the +thyme! + +A VOICE +[_Fresh and solemn, among the trees._] O God of birds! + +THE RABBITS +[_Stopping short in their antics stand abruptly still; soberly._] The +morning prayer! + +THE WOODPECKER +[_Crying to the_ PHEASANT-HEN.] They are coming to examine the trap! + +THE PHEASANT-HEN +[_Closes her eyes in resignation._] So be it! + +THE VOICE IN THE TREES +God by whose grace we wake to this new day-- + +PATOU +[_Before leaving._] Hush! Drop the curtain! Men folk are coming! [_Off._] + +[_All the woodland creatures hide. The_ PHEASANT-HEN _is left alone, +and, held down by the snare, with spread wings and panting breast, +awaits the approach of the giant._] + +CURTAIN + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Chantecler, by Edmond Rostand + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHANTECLER *** + +***** This file should be named 10747.txt or 10747.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/7/4/10747/ + +Produced by Curtis Weyant, Ginny Brewer and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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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