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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 c.o.c.k and the Pheasant-hen a Fable--
CHANTECLER [_Half aloud._] A c.o.c.k 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--
