Scene Fifth
Chantecler,thePheasant-hen,hidden in the tree, and theToads.
A Big Toad[Rearing himself in the grass.] We have come—[OtherToadsbecome visible behind him.]
ChanteclerYe 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 towardChantecler.]—at once novel,—
Another Toad[Same business.] Pellucid!
Another[Same business.] Succinct!
Another[Same business.] Vital!
Another[Same business.] Pure!
Another[Same business.] Great!
ChanteclerGentlemen, pray be seated. [They seat themselves around a large toadstool.]
The Big ToadTrue, 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 ToadA true song!
The Big ToadAnd a celestial!
Third ToadAnd 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 ToadCame to change conditions here.
ChanteclerAh, I shall change conditions?
AllGlory to the Cock!
ChanteclerI do not see that the forest thinks so poorly of me after all!
The Big ToadPlayed out, the Nightingale!
Chantecler[More and more surprised.] Really?
Second ToadMore and more his song confesses itself effete—
The Big ToadMawkish!
Third ToadNull!
Fourth[Contemptuously.] And his old-fashioned pretense of inspiration!
Fifth ToadAnd the name he has adopted: Bul-bul!
All the Toads[Puffing with laughter.] Bul-bul!
The Big ToadThis is the way he goes on: [Parodying the song of theNightingale.] Tio! Tio!
Second ToadHis solitary idea is an old silver trill copied from the bubbling spring. [He imitates in grotesque fashion the singing of theNightingale.] Tio! Tio!
ChanteclerBut—
The Big Toad[Quickly.] Do not attempt, you, the Renovator of Art, to defend that ancient high authority on sentimental gargling!
Second ToadThat superannuated tenor quavering out his cavatinas to the glory of minor poetry and the edification of fogydom!
Third ToadThe 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 ToadEndeavouring to impose on a suffering and surfeited public the musty old fashion of ingenious fioritura!
ChanteclerAudiences nowadays, of course, look for a different sort of thing.
Third ToadYour song has exposed the artificiality of his.
All[In an explosion.] Down with Bul-bul!
Chantecler[Whom theToadshave gradually surrounded.] Gentlemen and honored Batrachians, my voice, it is true, gives forth natural notes—
The Big ToadYes, notes which lend us wings—
Chantecler[Modestly.] Oh!
All[Waggling their bodies as if about to fly.] Wings!
The Big ToadTheir secret being that they sing Life!
ChanteclerThat is true.
Second ToadYes, 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 ToadThat formula is a programme.
Second ToadSince 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?
ChanteclerYou see, my dear—the new tendencies—Art,—the thinking contingency of the Forest—[Indicating theToads.] 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 theToads.] How was it you said he went on?
All the Toads[Comically.] Tio! Tio!
Chantecler[To thePheasant-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 theToads.] Scum of the earth!
The Toads[Backing away from him.] What—?