Scene Second
The Same, the Peacock.
The Guinea-hen[To thePeacock,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 thePeacock.] Master! Master!
A Chicken[Low to theDuck.] A word from him can make one’s fortune in society!
Another Chicken[Who has succeeded in forcing his way to thePeacock,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 PeacockUltimate! [Sensation.]
The Guinea-hen[Delighted, to theHens.] 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 PeacockLapidary.
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 PeacockAbsolute. [Sensation.]
The Guinea-hen[In a burst of emotion.] Our bonnets are absolute!
The Pheasant-hen[Affecting exclusive interest in theBees.] Ah, there is the Choir Invisible striking up again!
The Guinea-hen[Presenting the youngGuinea-cockto thePeacock.] My son!—What do you think of him?
The PeacockPlausible.
Chorus of WaspsBusily buzzing—
The Guinea-hen[Overjoyed, running to thePheasant-hen.] Oh, he said he was plausible!
The Pheasant-henWho was?
The Guinea-henMy son!
Chorus of Bees
When JulyToo holly glowsSeek the shadeInside the rose!
The Guinea-hen[Returning to thePeacock.] Does not the rhythm of that chorus impress you as—
The PeacockAsunartetos!
A Hen[To theGuinea-hen.] Your guest, my dear, can fit an epithet!
The Guinea-henPontiff of the Unexpected Adjective I call him!
The Peacock[Distilling his words, in a discordant haughty voice.] True it is that—
The Guinea-henAh, 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-henVery 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—
PatouOh, my poor head!
The Peacock[Nonchalantly.]—shall I say guardian?
The Guinea-hen[Effervescently.] Do say guardian!
The PeacockNo. Thesmothetes. [Respectful murmur of delight.]
The Guinea-hen[To thePheasant-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-henTriumph? [ThePeacocknods mysteriously.] What triumph?
The Peacock[Walking away from her.] You shall see.
The Guinea-hen[Following him.] Of what triumph are you speaking?
The PeacockI said, “You shall see!”
Magpie[Announcing.] Cock Braekel of Campine!