Scene Second
Chantecler,thePheasant-hen,from time to time theRabbits,now and then theWoodpecker.
ChanteclerHow softly sleeps the moonlight on the ferns! Now is the time—
A Little Quavering VoiceSpider at night,Bodeth delight!
The Pheasant-henThanks, kind Spider!
ChanteclerNow is the time—
The Pheasant-hen[Close behind him.] Now is the time to kiss me.
ChanteclerAll those Rabbits looking on make it a trifle—
The Pheasant-hen[Suddenly flaps her wings; the frightenedRabbitsstart, on all sides white tails disappear into rabbit-holes. ThePheasant-hencoming back toChantecler.] There! [They bill.] Do you love my forest?
ChanteclerI 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!
ChanteclerYes.
The Pheasant-henFor a month I have only allowed you one song.
Chantecler[Resignedly.] Yes.
The Pheasant-henAnd has the Sun not risen just the same?
Chantecler[In a tone of unwilling admission.] The Sun has risen.
The Pheasant-henYou see that one can have the Dawn at a smaller cost. Is the sky any less red for your only crowing once?
ChanteclerNo.
The Pheasant-henWell 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-henIt is barbarous anyhow to keep up a perpetual cockaduddling when I am trying to sleep.
Chantecler[Gently correcting her.] Doodling, dearest.
The Pheasant-henDuddling is correct.
ChanteclerDoodling.
The Pheasant-hen[Raising her head toward the top of the tree and calling.] Mr. Woodpecker! [ToChantecler.] We will ask the learned gentleman in the green coat. [To theWoodpeckerthe 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.
Chanteclerand thePheasant-hen[Turning to each other, triumphantly.] Ah!
The WoodpeckerDuddling is more tender, doodling more poetic. [He disappears.]
ChanteclerIt is for you I cockaduddle!
The Pheasant-henYes, 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-henForbidden by the game-laws of 44.
Chantecler[Laughing.] Do you know that?
The Pheasant-henYou 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 theWoodpecker.] See here,—you! Be so kind another time as to knock!
Woodpecker[Disappearing.] Certainly. Certainly.
The Pheasant-hen[ToChantecler.] 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-henThe language of birds.
ChanteclerIndeed?
The Pheasant-henFor, 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.
ChanteclerThey talk Japanese. [TheWoodpeckerknocks three times with his bill on the tree: Rat-tat-tat!] Come in!
The Woodpecker[Appearing, indignant.] Japanese, did you say?
ChanteclerYes. Some of them say, Tio! Tio! and others say Tzoui! Tzoui!
The WoodpeckerBirds have talked Greek ever since Aristophanes!
Chantecler[Rushing to thePheasant-hen.] Oh, for the love of Greek! [They bill.]
The WoodpeckerKnow, profane youth, that the Black-chat’s cry Ouis-ouis-tra-tra, is a corruption of the word Lysistrata! [Disappears.]
The Pheasant-hen[ToChantecler.] Will you never love anyone but me?
[The Woodpecker’sknock is heard: Rat-tat-tat.]
ChanteclerCome in!
The Pheasant-hen[ToChantecler.] 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.]
ChanteclerHe has Greek on the brain!
The Pheasant-hen[Reverting to her idea.] Am I the whole, whole world to you?
ChanteclerOf course you are, only—
The Pheasant-henIn my green-sleeved Oriental robe, I look to you—how do I look?
ChanteclerLike 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?
ChanteclerI 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-henThe Dawn! Always the Dawn! Be careful, Chantecler I shall do something rash! [Going toward the Back.]
ChanteclerYou will infallibly do as you like.
The Pheasant-henIn 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-henThat you will not sing—
ChanteclerMore than one song, we have settled that point. [Rat-tat-tat, from theWoodpecker.] 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-henHe flatters himself!
The WoodpeckerAnd that he would keep you on his farm.
The Pheasant-hen[Indignant.] Alive? [ToChantecler,in a tone of reproach.] Your farm!
Chantecler[Seeing aRabbitwho has returned to the edge of his hole.] Ah, there comes a Rabbit!
The Rabbit[Showing the snare to thePheasant-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. [ToChantecler.] On your farm, which you secretly yearn for.
Chantecler[In a voice of injured innocence.] I ?
The Pheasant-hen[To theRabbit,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.
ChanteclerThat’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?
ChanteclerI? I? [She goes off. He repeats indignantly.] I ? [Watching her out of sight, then, dropping his voice, to theWoodpecker.] She is not coming back, is she?
The Woodpecker[Who from his high window in the tree can look off.] No.