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CHANTECLER [_In spite of all, rather flattered._] A banquet!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Slightly ironical._] Shall you accept?
CHANTECLER You see, my dear--the new tendencies--Art,--the thinking contingency of the Forest--[_Indicating the_ TOADS.] 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 the_ TOADS.] How was it you said he went on?
ALL THE TOADS [_Comically._] Tio! Tio!
CHANTECLER [_To the_ PHEASANT-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 embarra.s.sed._] 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 the_ TOADS.] Sc.u.m of the earth!
THE TOADS [_Backing away from him._] What--?
SCENE SIXTH
THE SAME, _the_ NIGHTINGALE _unseen, and little by little all the_ FOREST CREATURES.
THE NIGHTINGALE [_From the tree, in his emotionally throbbing voice._] Tiny bird, lost in the darkness of the tree, I feel myself turning into the heart-beat of the infinite night!
CHANTECLER [_To the_ TOADS.] And you have dared--
THE NIGHTINGALE Hushed lies the ravine beneath the magic of the moon--
CHANTECLER --to compare my rude singing with that divine voice? Sc.u.m of the earth!
Toads! And I never divined that they were doing to him here what was done to me over yonder!
THE BIG TOAD [_Suddenly swelling to a great size._] Toads! Yes, as it happens, we are Toads!
THE NIGHTINGALE Vapour of pearl wreathes the summits in an ethereal veil--
THE BIG TOAD [_Self-appreciatively._] We are Toads, certainly, magnificently embossed with warts! [_All rear themselves up, swollen, standing between_ CHANTECLER _and the tree._]
CHANTECLER And I perceived not, I who have never known envy, to what venomous feast I was bidden!
THE NIGHTINGALE What matter? Sooner or later, you, the strong, and I, the tender, we were fated, despite all the Toads in the world, to understand each other!
CHANTECLER [_With religious fervour._] Sing!
A TOAD [_Who has hastily dragged himself to the tree in which the_ NIGHTINGALE _is singing._] Let us clasp the bark with our slimy little arms, and slaver upon the foot of the tree! [_All crawl toward the tree._]
CHANTECLER [_Trying to stop one of them who is clumsily hopping._] But are you not yourself gifted with a singing voice of exceptional purity?
THE TOAD [_In a tone of sincerest suffering._] I am, but when I hear somebody else singing, I can't help it,--I see green! [_He joins his companions._]
THE BIG TOAD [_Working his jaws as if chewing something which foamed._] There foam up beneath our tongues I know not what strange soapsuds, and--[_To his neighbour._] Are you frothing?
THE OTHER I am frothing.
ANOTHER He is frothing.
ALL We are frothing.
A TOAD [_Tenderly laying his arm about the neck of a dilatory_ TOAD.] Come and froth!
CHANTECLER [_To the_ NIGHTINGALE.] But will they not trouble and prevent your mellifluent song?
THE NIGHTINGALE In no wise. I will take their refrain into my song--
THE BIG TOAD [_Patting a little_ TOAD _on the head to encourage him._] Don't be afraid, go ahead,--froth!
THE TOADS [_All together, at the base of the tree to which they form a crawling, writhing girdle._] The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!
THE NIGHTINGALE --And make of both a Villanelle!
THE TOADS We welter in malignity!
THE NIGHTINGALE The while they fume beneath my tree I fill with song the enchanted dell--
THE TOADS The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we! [_And the Villanelle proceeds, sung by the alternate voices, one of which, ever higher and more enraptured, carries the song proper, and the others, ever angrier and lower, the burden of the song._]
THE NIGHTINGALE _and_ THE TOADS, _alternately_ I sing! for Wind, that harper free, And music bubbling from the well-- --We welter in malignity!--
And fragrance floating from the lea, Of meadow-sweet and pimpernel-- --The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!--
And Luna showering ecstasy, All weave so wonderful a spell-- --We welter in malignity!--
Its melting magic moveth me The secret of my heart to tell!
--The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we!--
Within my heart all sympathy, Within mine eye all visions dwell-- --We welter in malignity!--
Life, Death, I turn to rhapsody, Who am the deathless Philomel!
--The Toads, croak! croak! the Toads are we, Who welter in malignity!
CHANTECLER Beside those heavenly pipes, ah, me! my voice is Punchinello's squeak!
Sing on! Sing on! The Croakers are in retreat.
