Chantecler Part 5

CHANTECLER [_In a cordial voice, to the whole barnyard._] To work now, all of you, with a will!

[_A_ FLY _darts past, buzzing._]

CHANTECLER Busy and resonant Fly, I love thee! Behold her! What is her flight but the heart-whole gift of herself?

THE TURKEY [_Loftily._] Yes.--She has dropped considerably in my esteem, however, since that matter of the--

CHANTECLER Of the what?

THE TURKEY Of the Fly and the--

CHANTECLER I never thought much of that story. Who knows whether the coach would have reached the top of the hill without the Fly? Do you believe that rude shouts "Gee up! Ge' lang!" were more effective than the hymn to the Sun buzzed by the little Fly? Do you believe in the virtue of a bl.u.s.tering oath? Really believe it was the Coachman who made the coach to go? No, I tell you, no! She did much more than the big whip's noisy cracking, did the little Fly, with the music straight from her buzzing heart!

THE TURKEY Yes, but all the same--

CHANTECLER [_Turning his back on him._] Come, let us make of labour a delight!

Come, all of you!--High time, Ganders my worthies, you escorted your geese to the pond.

A GANDER [_Lazily._] Is it quite necessary, do you think?

CHANTECLER [_Going briskly towards him, with a look that forbids discussion._]

Quite! And let there be no idle quacking and paltering! [_The_ GANDERS _go off in haste._] You, Chicken, your task, as you know, is to pick off slugs, your full number before evening being thirty-two.--You, c.o.c.kerel, go practise your crow. Four hundred times cry c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo in hearing of the echo!

THE c.o.c.kEREL [_Slightly mortified._] The echo--?

CHANTECLER That is what I was doing to limber up my glottis before I was rid of the egg-sh.e.l.l sticking to my tail!

A HEN [_Airily._] None of this is particularly interesting!

CHANTECLER Everything is interesting! Pray go and sit on the eggs you have been entrusted with! [_To another_ HEN.] You, walk among the roses and verbenas, and gobble every creature threatening them. Ha, ha! If the caterpillar thinks we will make him a gift of our flowers he can stroke his belly--with his back! [_To another._] You, hie to the rescue of cabbages in old neglected corners, where the gra.s.shopper lays siege to them with his vigorous battering-ram! [_To the remaining_ HENS.]

You--[_Catching sight of the_ OLD HEN, _whose shaking, senile head has lifted the basket-lid._] Ah, there you are, Nursie! Good day! [_She gazes at him admiringly._] Well, have I grown?

THE OLD HEN Sooner or later, tadpole becomes toad!

CHANTECLER True! [_To the _HENS,_ resuming his tone of command._] Ladies, stand in line! Your orders are to peck in the fields. Off at a quick-step, go!

THE WHITE HEN [_To the_ GREY HEN.] Are you coming?

THE GREY HEN Not a word! I intend to stay behind, to see the Cuckoo. [_She hides behind the basket._]

CHANTECLER You, little tufted hen, was it just my fancy that you looked sulky falling into line?

THE TUFTED HEN [_Going up to him._] c.o.c.k--

CHANTECLER What is it?

THE TUFTED HEN I, who am nearest to your heart--

CHANTECLER [_Quickly._] Hush!

THE TUFTED HEN It annoys me not to be told--

THE WHITE HEN [_Who has drawn near on the other side._] c.o.c.k--

CHANTECLER Well?

THE WHITE HEN [_Coaxingly._] I who am your favourite--

CHANTECLER [_Quickly._] Hush!

THE WHITE HEN [_Caressingly._] I want to know--

THE BLACK HEN [_Who has softly drawn near._] c.o.c.k--

CHANTECLER What?

THE BLACK HEN Your special and tender regard for me--

CHANTECLER [_Quickly._] Hush!

THE BLACK HEN Tell me, do--

THE WHITE HEN --the secret--

THE TUFTED HEN --of your song? [_Going still closer to him, in a voice thrilled with curiosity._] I do believe that you have in your throat a little copper contrivance--

CHANTECLER That's it, that's what I have, very carefully concealed!

THE WHITE HEN [_Same business._] Most likely, like great tenors one has heard of, you gulp raw eggs--

CHANTECLER You have guessed!--A second Ugolino!

THE BLACK HEN [_Same business._] My idea is that taking snails out of their sh.e.l.ls, you pound them to a paste--

CHANTECLER And make them into troches! Exactly!

ALL THREE HENS c.o.c.k--!

CHANTECLER Off with you all! Be off! [_The_ HENS _hastily start, he calls them back._] A word before you go. When your blood-bright combs--now in, now out of sight, now in again--shall flash among the sage and borage yonder, like poppies playing at hide-and-seek,--to the real poppies, I enjoin you, do no injury! Shepherdesses, counting the st.i.tches of their knitting, trample the gra.s.s all unaware that it's a crime to crush a flower--even with a woman! But you, my Spouses, show considerate and touching thought for the flowers whose only offence is growing wild. The field-carrot has her right to bloom in beauty. Should you spy, as he strolls across some flowery umbel, a scarlet beetle peppered with black dots,--the stroller take, but spare his strolling-ground. The flowers of one same meadow are sisters, as I hold, and should together fall beneath the scythe!--Now you may go. [_They are leaving, he again calls them back._] And remember, when chickens go to the--

A HEN --fields--

CHANTECLER --the foremost--

THE HENS ALL TOGETHER --walks ahead!

CHANTECLER You may go! [_They are again starting, he peremptorily calls them back._] A word! [_In a stern voice._] Never when crossing the road stop to peck! [_The_ HENS _bow in obedience._] Now let me see you cross!