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CHANTECLER [_To the_ MAGPIE.] Pray simply say, "The c.o.c.k!"
SCENE FOURTH
THE SAME, CHANTECLER, _later_ THE PIGEONS, _and_ THE SWAN.
THE MAGPIE [_After looking_ CHANTECLER _up and down, disdainfully._] The c.o.c.k!
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 c.o.c.k, just the c.o.c.k, without further addition. The c.o.c.k such as he is still found in some old-fashioned barnyard. A c.o.c.k shaped like a c.o.c.k, 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 c.o.c.k, in short?
CHANTECLER [_Gently, without even turning._] Sure as I am of my aboriginal claim to this soil, I make no point of a.s.suming the name. But, now you mention it, I recognise that when one simply says the c.o.c.k, that is the c.o.c.k 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 c.o.c.k, _who is talking in an undertone, thickly surrounded by_ HENS.] That c.o.c.k from Cochin China is simply awful!
CHANTECLER [_Turning._] Enough!
THE HENS [_Around the_ COCHIN c.o.c.k, _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 c.o.c.k [_Stops, and with mocking surprise._] Is it the Gallic c.o.c.k 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 coa.r.s.eness, 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 c.o.c.k!
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 gra.s.s 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 Peac.o.c.k--
THE PEAc.o.c.k [_Modestly._] The Super-peac.o.c.k--who supervenes, and supersedes--
