7^9 ^^. 6 3 5 79/0 c, / CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THIS BOOK IS ONE OF A COLLECTION MADE BY BENNO LOEWY 1854-1919 AND BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY Cornell University Library PQ 2635 .085C41 1910 Chantecler : 3 1924 026 374 185 A Cornell University y Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 9240263741 85 CHANTECLER CHANTECLER PLAY IN FOUR ACTS BY EDMOND ROSTAND TRANSLATED BY GERTRUDE HALL NEW YORK DUFFIELD AND COMPANY 1910 Copyright, 1910 By Edmond Rostand Under the Copyright Act of July i, 1909 All rights strictly reserved copykight, i910 By Duitield and Company ^-0~^-<-<'^ ■THE- PI.IMPTON- PRESS [wD -O] NOBWOOD • M ASS • U ■ B ■ A DRAMATIS PERSON M Chanteclee Patou The Blackbird The Peacock The Nightingale The Grand-Duke The Screech-Owl Little Scops The Game-Cock The Hunting Dog A Carrier-Pigeon The The Wood-Pecker The Turkey The Duck The Young Guinea-Cock The Pheasant-Hen The Guinea-Hen The Old Hen The White Hen The Grey Hen The Black Hen Teie Speckled Hen Tufted Hen A Gander. A Capon. Chickens. Chicks. A Cock- erel. A Swan. A Cuckoo. Night-birds. Fancy Cocks. Toads. A Turkey-hen. A Goose. A Garden Warbler. A Woodland Warbler. A Spider. A Heron. A Pigeon. A Guinea-pig. Barnyard animals. Woodland Crea- tures. Rabbits. Birds. Bees. Cicadas. Voices. PROLOGUE The customary three knocks are heard. The drop- curtain wavers and is rising, when a voice rings out, "Not yet!" and the Manager, a gentleman of important mien in evening dress, springing from his proscenium box, hur- ries toward the stage, repeating, "Not yet I" The curtain is again lowered. The Manager turns toward the audience, and resting one hand on the promp- ter's box, addresses them: The curtain is a wall, — a flying wall. Assured that presently the wall will fly — why haste? Is it not charming to delay — and just look at it for a while? Charming to sit before a great red wall, hanging beneath two gilt masks and a scroll — The thrilling moment is when the curtain thrills, and soimds come from the other side. You are desired to-night to listen to those sounds and entering the scene before you see it, to wonder and surmise — Bending his ear, the Manager listens to the sounds now beginning to come from behind the curtain. A footstep — is it a road? A flutter of wings — is it a garden? The curtain here rippling as if about to rise, the Man- ager precipitately shouts, "Stopl — Do not raise it yetl" Then again bending his ear, continues making note of the noises, clear or confused, single or combined, that from this onward come without stop from behind the curtain. viii CHANTECLER A magpie cawing flies away. Great wooden shoe come running over flags. A courtyard, is it ? — If s above a valley — from whence that softened clamou of birds and barking dogs. More and more clearly the scene suggests itself - Magically soimd creates an atmosphere! — A sheep be tinkles intermittently — Since there is grazing, we ma; look for grass. A tree, too — a tree must rustle in the breeze, for bullfinch warbles his little native song; and a blad bird whistling the song he has caught by ear, implie we may presume, a wicker cage. The rattling of a waggon run out of a shed — the drij ping of a bucket drawn up overfull — the patter ( doves' feet alighting on a roof — Surely it is a f armyar — unless it be a mill! Rustling of straw, click of a wooden latch — . stable or a hajrmow there must be. The locust shrill the weather then is fine. — Church-bells ring: it Sim'day then. — Chatter of jays : the woods cannot be fa Hark! Nature with the scattered voices of a fa midsummer day is composing — in a dream! — tl most mysterious of overtures — harmonised by ev ning, distance and the wind! And all these sounds — song of a passing girl — laug] ter of children jogged by the donkey trotting — f arawj gun-reports and htmting-homs — these sounds descril a holiday. A window opens, a door closes — The harness shak its bells. Is it not plain in sight, the old farmyard? ■ The dog sleeps, the cat but feigns to sleep. CHANTECLER ix Sunday! — Farmer and farmer's wife are starting for the fair. The old horse paws the ground A Rough Voice [Behind the curtain, through the horse's pawing.] Whoa, Dapple! Another Voice [As if calling to a laggard.] Come along! We shan't get home tiU morning! An Impatient Voice Are you ready? Another Voice Fasten the shutters! Man's Voice All right! Woman's Voice My sunshade! Man's Voice [Through the cracking of the whip.] Gee up! The Manager The waggon to the jingling of the harness rattles off, jolting out ditties. A turn in the road cuts off the imfinished song. — They are gone, quite gone. The performance can begin. Some philosophers would say there was not a soul left, but we humbly believe that there are hearts. Man in leaving does not take with him all drama. One can laugh and suffer without him. [He listens again.] X CHANTECLER Ardently humming, a velvety bumblebee hovers - then is still; he has plimged into a flower — Let u begin. Pray note that ^Esop's hump to-night does dut as prompter's box! The members of our company are small, but [Cali ing toward the flies.] Alexander! [To the audience He is my chief machinist. [Calling again.] Let i down! A Voice [From the flies.] It's coming, sir! Manager We have lowered between the audience and the stag an invisible screen of magnifying glass But there the violins are tuning up: Scraping o crystal bows, picking of strings! — Hush! Let th footlights now leap into brightness, for at a signal fron their little leader the crickets' orchestra have briskl; fallen to! Frrrt! The bumblebee emerges from the flower shaking the yellow dust — A Hen comes on the seen as in La Fontaine's fable. A Cuckoo calls, as ii Beethoven's S)m[iphony. Hush! Let the chandelier draw in its myriad light — for the curious call-boy of the woods has, airily, t summon us, repeated thrice his double call And since Nature is one of our performers, and feath ered notables are on our staff — Hush! the curtail must go up: A wood-pecker's bill has rapped out thi three strokes! ACT I ACT FIRST THE EVENING OF THE PHEASANT-HEN A farmyard such as the sounds from behind the curtai have described. At the right, a house over-clambere with wistaria. At the left, the farmyard gate, le, ting on to the road. A dog-kennel. At the back, low wall, beyond which distant country landscapi The details of the setting define themselves in tl course of the act. CHANTECLER SCENE FIRST The whole barnyard company, Hens, Chickens, Chicks, Ducks, Turkeys, etc.; The Blackbird in his cage, The Cat asleep on the wall, later A Butterfly on the flowers. The White Hen [Pecking.] Ah! Delicious! Another Hen What are you eating? All the Hens [Rushing to the spot.] What's she eating? The White Hen A small green beetle, crisp and nice, tasting of the rose-leaves he had lived on. The Black Hen [Standing before the Blackbird's cage\ Really, the Blackbird whistles amazingly! The White Hen Any little street urchin can do as much! 3 4 CHANTECLER The Tdkkey [Solemnly.] An urchin who had learned of a she herd in Sicily! The Duck He never whistles his tune to the end The Turkey That's too easy, carr3dng it to the end! {He hut the tune the Blackbird has been whistling) "Ho sweet to fare afield, and cull and cull You should know, Duck, that the thing in art is i leave off before the end! "And cull and (x " Bravo, Blackbird! [The Blackbird comes out on the little platform i front of his cage and bffws\ A Check [Astonished.] Can he get out? Blackbird Applause is salt on my tail! The Chick But his cage? The Turkey He can come out, and he can go in again. His cag has that sort of spring. — "And cull and cu " The whole point is missed if you tell them wha you cull! The Black Hen [Catching sight of a Butterfly alighting on the flowet above the wall at the back.] Oh, what a gorgeous buttei fly! CHANTECLER 5 The White Hen Where? The Black Hen On the honey-suckle. The Turkey That kind is called an Admiral. Tece Chick [Looking after the Buttestly.] Now he has settled on a pink. The White Hen [To the Turkey.] An Admiral, wherefore? The Blackbird Obviously because he is neither a seaman nor a soldier. The White Hen Our Blackbird has a pretty wit! The Turkey [Nodding and swinging his red stalactite^ He has better than wit, my dear! Another Hen [Watching the Buttertly.] It's sweet — a butterfly! The Blackbird Easy as possible to make! You take a W and set t on top of a Y! 6 CHANTECLER A Hen [Delighted.] A flourish of his bill, and there you ha' your caricature! The Turkey He does better than execute caricatures! Hen, oi Blackbird forces you to think while obliging you laugh. He is a Teacher in wit's clothing. A Chick [To a Hen.] Mother, why does the Cat hate tl Dog? The Blackbird Because he appropriates his seat at the theatre. The Chick [Surprised.] They have a theatre? The Blackbird Where dumb-shows are given. The Chick Eh? The Blackbird The hearthstone from whence both alike wish 1 watch the play of the Fire among the Logs. The Turkey [Delighted.] How aptly he conveys that the hatre of peoples is at bottom a question of wanting the other territory. There's a brain for you! CHANTECLER 7 The Speckled Hen [To the White Hen, who is pecking.] Do you peck peppers? The White Hen Constantly. The Speckled Hen How can you stand the sting? The White Hen It imparts to the feathers a delicate rosy tint. The Speckled Hen Oh, does it! A Voice in the Distance Cuckoo! The White Hen Listen! The Voice [From a greater distance.] Cuckoo! The White Hen The Cuckoo! A Grey Hen [Comes running excitedly.] Which Cuckoo? The one who lives in the woods, or the one who lives in the dock? The Voice [Still further ojf.] Cuckoo! 8 CHANTECLER The White Hen The one of the woods. The Grey Hen [With a sigh of reUef.] Oh, I was so afraid of having missed the other! The White Hen [Going near enough to her to speak in an undertone. Do you mean to say you love him? The Gkey Hen [Sadly.] Without ever having set eyes on him. He hves in a chalet hanging on the kitchen wall, above the farmer's great-coat and fowling-piece. The moment he sings, I rush to the spot, but I never get there in time to see anything but his little wicket closing. This evening I mean to stay right here beside the door — [She takes up her position on the threshold]. A Voice White Hen! SCENE SECOND The Same, a Pigeon on the roof, later Chantecler. The White Hen [Looking about with quick jerks of her head.] Who called me? The Voice A pigeon. CHANTECLER 9 The White Hen [Looking for him.] Where? The Pigeon On the sloping roof. The White Hen [Lifting her head and seeing him.] Ah! The Pigeon Though I am the bearer of an important missive, I would not miss the opportunity Good evening, Hen! The White Hen Postman, howdedo? The. Pigeon My duty on the Postal Service of the Air obliging me this summer evening to pass your habitations, I should be most happy if The White Hen [Spying a crumb of some sort.] One moment, please. Another Hen [Running eagerly towards her.] What are you eating? All the Hens [Arriving at a run.] What's she eating?. The White Hen A simple grain of wheat. 10 CHANTECLER The Grey Hen [Taking up her conversation with the White Hen.] As I was telling you, I mean to stay right on the door- step there — [Showing the door of the house.] The White Hen [Looking at the door.] The door is shut. The Gsey Hen Yes, but I shall hear the hour striking, and I will catch a look at my Cuckoo by stretching my neckj — The Pigeon [Catting, slightly out of patience.] White Hen! The White Hen One moment, please! [To the Grey Hen] — Catch a look at your Cuckoo, by stretching your neck where? — Where? The Geey Hen [Pointing with her beak at the small, round opening at the foot of the door.] Through the cat-hole! The Pigeon [Raising his voice to a shout.] Am I to be kept here cooling my feet on your rain-pipe? Hi, there, whitest of Hens! The White Hen [Hopping towards him.] You were saying? The Pigeon I was about to say CHANTECLER II The White Hen What, bluest of Pigeons? The Pigeon That I should consider myself past expression for- tunate if But no! I am abashed at my own bold- ness! — if I might be so favoured as to be permitted to get a glimpse The White Hen Of what? The Pigeon Oh, just a glimpse, the very least glimpse of All the Hjens [Impatiently] Of what? — What? The Pigeon Of his comb! The White Hen [Laughing, to the others] Ha! ha! he wishes to see The Pigeon [In great excitement] That's it! Just to see The White Hen There, there, cool down! The Pigeon I am shaking with excitement! The White Hen You are shaking down the roof! 12 CHANTECLER The Pigeon You can't think how we admire him! The White Hen Oh, everyone admires him! The Pigeon And I promised my naissis to tell her what he is like! The White Hen [Quietly pecking.] Oh, he's a fine fellow, no doubt of that! The Pigeon We can hear him crowing from our dove-cote. The One he is whose song is more an ornament to the land- scape than the white hamlet to the hill! The One he is whose cry pierces the blue horizon like a gold-threaded needle stitching the hill-tops to the sky! The Cock he is! When you would praise him, call him the Cock! The Blackbird [Hopping up and down in his cage.] Tick-tock! — who sets all hearts a-beating, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick- tock! A Hen Our Cock! The Blackbird [Thrusting his head between the bars of Ms cage.] My, thy, his, her, our, your, and their Cock! CHANTECLER 13 The Turkey [To the Pigeon.] He will soon be coming in from his usual round in the fields. The Pigeon You have the honour of his acquaintance, sir? The Turkey [Importantly.] I have known him from a baby. This chick — for to me he is stiU a chick! — used to come to me for his bugle lesson. The Pigeon Ah, indeed? You give lessons in The Turkey Certainly. A bird who can gobble is qualified to teach crowing. The Pigeon Where was he born? The Turkey [Indicating an old covered basket, badly battered and broken.] In that old basket. The Pigeon And is the hen who brooded him still living? The Turkey [Again indicating the basket.] She is there. 14 CHAISTKCLER Where? The Pigeon The Tut?kry In that old basket. The Pigeon [More and more interested.] Of what breed is she? The TtTRKEY She is just a good old-fashioned Gascon hen, bom in the neighbourhood of Pau. The Blackbied [Thrusting out his head.] She is the one Heiuy the Fourth wished to see cooking in every Frenchman's pot! The Pigeon How proud she must be of having hatched such a Cock! The Tttrkey Yes, proud with a lowly foster-mother's pride. Her beloved chick is coming to his inches, that is aU she seems to understand or care about. And when you teU her this, her clouded reason gives a momentary gleam — [Calling towards the basket.] Hey, old lady, he is grow- ing! All the Hens He is growing! [The lid of the basket is suddenly lifted, and a bristling aged hen's head appears.] CHANTECLER 15 The Pigeon [To the Old Hen, genily and feelingly.] Does it make ron happy, mother, to think of him grown to a big ine Cock? The Old Hen [Nodding, sententiously.] Happy? — ^Wednesday's crops lo credit to Tuesday! [She disappears, the lid drops.] The Tuekey She opens now and then, like that, and ping! shoots ,t us some such pearl of homely lore — The Pigeon [ro iAe White Hen.] White Hen! The Tdekey not always wholly without point! The Old Hen [Reappearing for an instant] In the Peacock's ab- ence, the Turkey spreads his tail! [The Turkey turns quickly around, the lid has already ropped.] The Pigeon [To the White Hen.] Is it a fact that Chantecler is ever hoarse, never the very least husky? The White Hen [Keeping on with her pecking.] Perfectly true. The Pigeon [With growing enthusiasm.] Ah, you must be proud i6 CHANTECLER indeed of having here among you, under these ehns, a Cock who will be numbered among Illustrious Animals and his name remembered five, ten, fifteen years! The Turkey Very proud. Very proud. [To a Chick.] Who are the Dlustrious Animals? Tell them off! The Check [Reciting a lesson.] Noah's Dove — Saint Rocco's Poodle — The — the Horse of CaK The Tuekey Call ? The Chick [Trying to remember.] CaH The Pigeon This Cock, now — this Cock of yours — Is it true that his song attunes, inspires, encourages, makes labour Kght, and keeps off birds of prey? The White JIen [Pecking.] Perfectly true. The Chick [Still hunting for his word.] Cali CaJi The Pigeon White Hen, is it true that by his song, defender of the warm and sacred egg, he has frequently kept the lissome weasel from CHANTECLER 17 The Blackbird [Looking out between the bars] messing his shirt- ont with omelette? The White Hen Perfectly true. The CmcK Cali The Turkey [Helping him] Gu? The CmcK Gu The Pigeon Is it true ? The Chick [Jumping for joy at having found] Gula! The Pigeon — •■ — true that, as report says, he has a secret for his nazing singing, a secret whereby his crow becomes the rilliant burst of red which makes the poppies of the ;ld feel themselves contemptible imitations? The White Hen \Weary oj this questioning] Perfectly true. The Pigeon That secret, that great secret, is it known to anyone? The White Hen No. i8 CHANTECLER The Pigeon He has not even told his Hen? The White Hen [Correcting him.] His Hens. The Pigeon [Slightly shocked.] Ah, he has more than one? The Blackbird He crows, remember, you only coo. The Pigeon Well, then, he has not even told his favourite? The Tueted Hen [Promptly.] No, he has not! The White Hen [As promptly.] No, he has not! The Black Hen [As promptly] No, he has not! The Blackbisd [Thrusting out his head] Hush! — An aerial drama! The Butterfly, absorbed in his head of blossom, ban- quets, all oblivious of [i4 great green gauze butterfly-net appears above the wail, softly coming towards the Butterfly settled on one of the flowers.] A Hen What is that? CHANTECLER 19 The Turkey [Solemnly.] Fate! The Blackbird In a thin disguise of gauze ! The White Hen Oh, a net — at the end of a cane! The Blackbird No harm in the cane — it's the kid at the other end ' the cane ! [Half alottd, watching the Buttebtly.] You ;at little fop, sailing from rose to rose, to-night you'll ; neat as a pin can make you! All [Watching the cautious approach of the net beyond the lil.] Nearer — Nearer — Hush! He'll catch it! — o, he won't! — Yes, he will! Suddenly Outside Cock-a-doodle-doo ! [At the sound, the Butterfly flies off. The Net ivers a moment, with an effect of disappointment, then sappears.] Several Hens What? — Eh? — What was it? A Hen [Who having hopped up on a wheelbarrow can follow 20 CHANTECLER the flight of the Butteeply.] He is off and away, over the meadow. The Blackberd \With ironical emphasis.] It's Chantecler, practising knight-errantry! The Pigeon \With emotion] Chantecler! A Hen He is coming! Another Hen He is just outside The White Hen \To the Pigeon.] Now you will see. He's a very fine bird indeed. The Blackbird [Thrusting his head between the bars.] Easy as pos- sible to make, a Cock! The Tuekey [Admiringly.] Admirable amenity! The Blackbird You take a melon — a fine specimen, I will grant, — for the tnmk. For the legs, two sticks of asparagus, — prize sticks, of course. For the head, a red pepper, — , as handsome as you may find. For the eye, a currant, ' — exceptionally clear and light. For the tail, a sheaf CHANTECLER 21 leeks, with luxuriant blue-green flags. For the ear, lainty kidney-bean, — extra, superfine! — And there 1 have him, there's your Cock! The Pigeon Gently.] One thing you have omitted — His heav- y clarion call! The Blackbird Indicating Chantecler, who now appears upon the U.] Yes, but with the exception of that — slight tail, you must own my portrait is a likeness. The Pigeon Not at all. Not in the very least. [Contemplating [ANTECLER with a Very different eye from the Black- id's.] What I see, beneath that quivering hemlet. Summer's glorious and favoured knight, who, from a )amng wain at evening borrowing its golden harvest- )e, has arrayed himself in this, and lifts it from the st with a gleaming sickle! Chantecler On the wall, in a long guttural sigh] Coa The Blackbird SVhen he makes that noise in his throat, he either in love, or preparing some poetic outburst. Chantecler Motionless on the wall, with head high] Blaze forth glory! — Dazzle 22 CHANTECLER The Blackbied He's letting off hot air! Chantecler Irradiate the world! A Hen Now he pauses — one daw lifted Chantecler [In a sort oj groan of excessive tenderness^ Coa — The Blackbird That, if you please, is ecstasy! Chantecler Thy gold is of all gold alone beneficent! I worship thee! The Pigeon [Under breath.] To whom is he talking? The BLACKBna) [Sneering.] To the sun, sonny, the sun! Chantecler O thou that driest the tears of the meanest among weeds And dost of a dead flower make a living butterfly — Thy miracle, wherever almond-trees Shower down the wind their scented shreds. Dead petals dancing in a living swarm — CHANTECLER 33 )rship thee, O Sun! whose ample light, sing every forehead, ripening every fruit, sring every flower and every hovel, rs itself forth and yet is never less, spending and unspent — like mother's love! ig of thee, and will be th}' high priest, J disdainest not to glass thy shining face he humble basin of blue suds, ;ee the hghtning of thy last farewell ected in an humble cottage pane! The Blackbird "hrusting out his head.] Can't call it off now, boys, started on an ode! The TtTRKEY Vatching Chantecler as by a series of stately hops omes down a pile of hay.] Here he comes, prouder 1 A Hen Stopping in front of a small tin cone.] See there! : new-fangled drinking-trough! [She drinks.] Handy! The Blackbird rouder than a drum major chanting as he marches: y country, 'tis of thee! " Chantecler Beginning to walk about the yard.] Thou smilest on 24 CHANTECLER All the Hens [Rushing to the White Hen who is eating something^ What's she eating? The White Hen Corn. Nothing but com. Chantecler Thou smilest on the sunflower craning after thee, And burnishest my brother of the vane, And softly sifting through the linden-trees Strewest the ground with dappled gold, So fine there's no more walking where it lies. Through thee the earthen pot is an enamelled urn. The clout hung out to dry a noble banner, The hay-rick by thy favoiu: boasts a golden cape. And the rick's little sister, the thatched hive. Wears, by thy grace, a hood of gold! Glory to thee in the vineyards! Glory to thee in the fields! Glory among the grass and on the roofs, In eyes of lizards and on wings of swans, — Artist who making splendid the great things Forgets not to make exquisite the small! 'Tis thou that, cutting out a silhouette, To aU thou beamest on dost fasten this dark twin, Doubling the number of delightful shapes. Appointing to each thing its shadow, More charming often than itself. CHANTECLER 25 jraise thee, Sun! Thou sheddest roses on the air, amonds on the stream, enchantment on the hill; poor dull tree thou takest and turnest to green rapture, Sun, without whose golden magic — things 3uld be no more than what they are! The Pigeon Bravo! I shall have something to teU my mate. e shall long talk of this! Chantecler [Seeing him, with noble courtesy.] Young blue-winged anger, with new-fledged bill, thanks! Pray lay my ty at her coral feet! [The Pigeon flies off] The Blackbird Jolly your admirers, it pays! Chantecler [In a cordial voice, to the whole barnyard.] To work w, aU of you, with a will! [A Fly darts past, buzzing.] Chantecler Busy and resonant Fly, I love thee! Behold her! hat is her flight but the heart-whole gift of herself? The Turkey [Loftily.] Yes. — She has dropped considerably in my ;eem, however, since that matter of the Chantecler Of the what? 26 CHANTECLER 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 beUeve that rude shouts "Gee up! Ge' lang!" were more efifective than the hymn to the Sun biizzed by the little Fly? Do you beheve in the virtue of a blustering 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 labom: a dehght! Come, all of you! — High time, Gan- ders, my worthies, you escorted your geese to the pond. A Gander [Lazily.] Is it quite necessary, do you think? Chantecler [Going briskly towards Mm, 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, j your fuU number before evening being thirty-two.— CHANTECLER 27 )u, Cockerel, go practise your crow. Four hundred aes cry Cock-a-doodle-doo in hearing of the echo! The Cockerel [SligkUy mortified.] The echo ? Chantecler That is what I was doing to limber up my glottis fore I was rid of the egg-shell sticking to my tail! A Hen [Airily.] None of this is particularly interesting! Chantecler EverjiJiing is interesting ! Pray go and sit on the eggs )u have been entrusted with! [To another Hen.] ou, walk among the roses and verbenas, and gobble rery creatxire threatening them. Ha, ha! If the iterpillar thinks we wiU make him a gift of our flowers ; can stroke his belly — with his back! [To another.] ou, hie to the rescue of cabbages in old neglected )mers, where the grasshopper lays siege to them with s vigorous battering-ram! [To the remaining Hens.] ou — [Catching sight of the Old Hen, whose shaking^ nile head has lifted the basket-lid.] Ah, there you are, ursie! Good day! [She gazes at him admiringly.] ^ell, have I grown? The Old Hen Sooner or later, tadpole becomes toad! Chantecler True! [To the Hens, resuming his tone of command-] 28 CHANTECLER Ladies, stand in line! Your orders are to peck in the iields. 0£E at a quick-step, go! The White Hen [To the Geey Hen.] Are you coming? The Gbey 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.] Cock 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.] Cock Chantecler Well? CHANTECLER 29 The White Hen [Coaasingly.] I who am your favourite - Chantecler [Quickly.] Hush! The White Hen [Caressingly.] I want to know • The Black Hen [Who has softly drawn near] Cock 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 Tueted Hen of your song? [Going still closer to him, in a voice thrilled with curiosity] I do beheve that you have in your throat a little copper contrivance Chantecler That's it, that's what I have, very carefully con- cealed! 30 CHANTECLER 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 shells, you pound them to a paste Chantecler And make them into troches! Exactly! All Three Hens Cock ! Chantecler Off with you all! Be off! [The Hens hasHly 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 stitches of their knitting, trample the grass all unaware that it's a crime to crush a flower — even with a woman! But you, my Spouses, show consid- erate 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 CHANTECLER 31 xolling-ground. The flowers of one same meadow are sters, as I hold, and should together fall beneath the ;ythe! — Now you may go. [They are leaving, he again ills them back.] And remember, when chickens go I the A Hen fields Chantecler the foremost The Hens All Together ■walks ahead! Chantecler ' You may go! [They are again starting, he peremp- rily calls them back.] A word! [In a stern voice.] [ever when crossing the road stop to peck! [The Hens Tw in obedience.] Now let me see you cross! A Horn [In the distance.] Honk! Honk! Honk! Chantecler [Rushing in front of the Hens and spreading his wings fore them.] Not yet! The Horn [Very near, accompanied by a terrific snorting.] Honk! [onk! Honk! Chantecler [Barring the Hens' passage, while everything shakes.] ^ait! 32 CHANTECLER The Hobn [Far away.] Honk! Honk! Honk! Chantecler [Statding aside for them to pass.] You can safely go! The Grey Hen [From her hiding-place.] He has not seen me! The Tufted Hen You may think this is fim! Now ever3rthing we eat will taste of gasoHne! SCENE THIRD Chantecler, the Blackbird in his cage, the Cat stUl asleep on the wall, the Grey Hen behind the Old Hen's basket. Chantecler [To himself, after a pause.] No, I will not trast a frivolous soul with such a weighty secret. Let me try rather to cast off the burden of it myself — forget and [Shaking his feathers.] just rejoice in being a rooster! [He struts up and down.] I am beautiful. I am proud. I walk — then I stand still. I give a skip or two, I tread a measure. — I shock the cart sometimes by my boldness with the fair, so that it raises scandalised shafts in horror to the sky! — Hang care! — A barley- corn. — Eat and be merry. — The gear upon my head and under my eye is a far more gorgeous red, when I CHANTECLER 33 puff out my chest and strut, than any robin's waist- coat or finch's tie. — A fine day. All is well. I curvet — I blow my hern. Conscious of having done my duty, I may quite properly assume the swagger of a musketeer, and the calm commanding bearing of a cardinal. I can A Voice [Loud and gruff.] Beware, Chantecler! Chantecler What silly beast is bidding me beware? SCENE FOURTH The Same, Patou. Patou [Barking inside his kennel.] I! I! I! Chantecler [Retreating.] Is it you, Patou, good shaggy head starting out of the dark, with straws caught among your eyelashes? Patou Which do not prevent my seeing what is plain as that hen-house rrrroof! Chantecler Cross? Patou Grrrrrrr 34 CHANTECLER Chantecler When he rolls his r's like that he is very cross indeed. Patou It's my devotion to you, Cock, makes me roll my R's. Guardian of the house, the orchard and the fields, more than all else I am bound to protect your song. And I growl at the dangers I suspect lurking. Such is my humour. Chantecler Your hvimour? Your dogma, suspicion is! Call it your dogaiSi\ Patou You can stoop to a p\m? From bad to worse! I'm enough of a psychologist to feel the evil spreading, and I've the scent of a rat-terrier. Chantecler But you are no rat-terrier! Patou [Shaking Ms head] Chantecler, how do we know? J Chantecler [Considering him.] Your appearance is in fact pecul- iar. What actually is your breed? I Patou 3 I am a horrible mixture, issue of every passer-by! CHANTECLER 35 I can feel barking within me the voice of every blood. Retriever, mastiff, pointer, poodle, hound — my soul is a whole pack, sitting in circle, musing. Cock, I am all dogs, I have been every dog! Chantecler Then what a sum of goodness must be stored in you! Patotj Brother, we are framed to understand each other. You sing to the sun and scratch up the earth. I, when I wish to do myself a good and a pleasure Chantecler You lie on the earth and sleep in the sun! Patou [With a pleased yap.] Aye! Chantecler We have ever had in common our love for those two things. Patou I am so fond of the sun that I howl at the moon. And so fond of the earth that I dig great holes and shove my nose in it! Chantecler I know! The gardener's wife has her opinion of those holes. — But what are the dangers you discern? All lies quiet beneath the quiet sky. Nothing appears to be threatening my hxunble simlit dominions. 36 CHANTECLER The Old Hen [Lifting the basket-lid with her head.] The egg looks like marble until it gets smashed! [The lid drops.] Chantecler [To Patou.] What dangers, friend? > Patotj There are two. First, in yonder cage Chantecler Well? Patou That satirical whistling. What about it? Pernicious. In what way? In every way! Chantecler Patou Chantecler Patou Chantecler [Ironical.] Bad as all that, is it? [The Peacock's squall is heard in the distance: "Ee— yongl"] Patou And then that cry, the Peacock's! [The Peacock, further off: "Ee — yong!"\ CHANTECLER 37 Patou More out of tune all by itself than a whole village singing society! Chantecler Come, what have they done to you, that whistler and that posturer? Patou [Grumbling.] They have done to me — that I know not what they may do to you! They have done to me — that among us simple, kindly folk they have introduced new fashions, the Blackbird of being funny, the Peacock of putting on airs! Fashions which the latter in his grotesque bad taste picked up parading on the marble terraces of the vulgar rich, and the former — Heaven knows where! along with his C3micism and his slang. Now the one, travelling salesman of bhght- ing, corrosive laughter, and the other, brainless ambas- sador of Fashion, their mission to kill among us love and labour, the first by persiflage, the second by display, — they have brought to us, even here in our peaceful sunny comer, the two pests, the saddest in the world, the jest which insists on being funny at any cost, and the cry which insists on being the latest scream! [The Blackbird is heard tentatively whistling, "How sweet to fare afield".] You, Cock, who had the sense to prefer the grain of true wheat to the pearl, how can you allow yourself to be taken in by that villainous Blackbird! A bird who practises a tune! 38 CHANTECLER Chantecler [Itidulgently.] Come, he whistles his tune like many another! Patou [Unwillingly agreeing, in a drawling growl.] Ye-e-es, but he never whistles it to the end! Chantecler [Watching the Blackbird hopping about.] A light- hearted feUow! Patou [Same business.] Ye-e-es, but he lies heavy on our hearts. A bird who takes his exercise indoors! Chantecler You must own he is intelligent! Patou [In a longer, more hesitant growl.] Ye-e-e-es! But not so very! For his eye never brightens with wonder and admiration. He preserves before the flower — of whose stalk he sees more than of its chalice — the glance which deflowers, the tone which depredates! Chantecler Taste, my dear fellow, he immistakably has! Patou Ye-e-e-es! But not much taste! To wear black is too easy a way of having taste! One should have the courage of colours on his wing. CHANTECLER 39 Chantecler You will admit at least that he has an original fancy. No denying that he is amusing. Patou Ye-e-es — No! Why is it amusing to adopt a few stock phrases and make them do service at every turn? Why amusing to miscall, exaggerate, and vulgarise? Chantecler His mind has a diverting, imexpected turn Patou Ready but cheap! I cannot think it particularly brilliant to remark, with a knowing wink, at sight of an innocent cow at pasture, "The simple cow knows her way to the hay!" Nor do I regard it as evidence of notable mental gifts to answer the greeting of the inoffensive duck, "The quack shoots off his mouth!" No, the extravagances of that Blackbird, who makes me bristle, no more constitute wit than his slang achieves style! Chantecler He is not altogether to blame. He wears the modern garb. See him there in correct evening dress. He looks, in his neat black coat Patou Like a beastly little undertaker who, after burying Faith, hops with relief and glee! Chantecler There, there! You make him blacker than he is! 40 CHANTECLER Patotj I do believe a blackbird is just a misfit crow! Chantecler His diminutive size, however Patou [Vigorously shaking his ears.] Oh, be not deceived by his size! Evil makes his models first on a tiny scale. The soul of a cutlass dwells in the pocket-knife; blackbird and crow are of the selfsame crape, and the striped wasp is a tiger in miniature! Chanteclek [Amused at Patou's violence.] The blackbird in short is wicked, stupid, ugly Patotj The chief thing about the Blackbird is — that you can't tell what he is! Is there thought in that head? feeling in that breast? Hear him! "Tew-tew-tew-tew tew " Chantecler But what harm does he do? Patou He tew-tew-tews! And nothiag is so mortal to thought and sentiment as that same derisive tew-tewing, disingenuous and non-committal! Day by day, and that is why I roll my rs, I must witness this debasing of language and ideals. It's enough to produce rabies! CHANTECLER 41 Chantecler Come, Patou! Patoxt In their objectionable jargon, they have the ha-ha on all of us! I am no fastidious King Charles, but I dislike, I tell you, being referred to as His Whiskers! — Oh, to be gone, escape, follow the heels of some poor shepherd without a crust in his wallet, but at least, at evening drinking from the glassy pond, to have — oh, better than all marrow-bones! — the fresh illusion of lapping up the stars! Chantecler [Surprised at Patou's having lowered his voice to utter the last words.] Why do you drop your voice? Patou You see? — If we speak of stars nowadays we must do it in a whisper! [He lays his head on his paws in deep dejection.] Chantecler [Comforting him.] Be not downcast! Patou [Lifting his head again.] No, it is too silly and too weak! I'll shout it if I please! [He howls with the whole power of his lungs.] Stars! — [Then in a tone of relief] There, I feel better! Chickens i [Passing at the back, mocking] Stars! — Ho! Stars i for ours! Stars! [They go off, fooling and giggling.] 42 CHANTECLER Patott Hear them! Our pullets will be whistling soon like blackbirds! Chantecler [Protidly strutting up and down] What care I? I sing, and have on my side the Hens. Patou Trust not to the hearts of Hens — or of crowds. You are too willing to take the price of your singing in lip- service. Chantecler But love — love is glory awarded in kisses! Patou Ah! I, too, was young once, I had my wilding devil's beauty, - — an inflammatory eye, an inflam- mable heart. Well, I was deceived. For a handsomer dog? — No, they deceived me for a miserable cur! — {Roaring in sudden wrath] For whom? — For whom, do you suppose? Chantecler [Retreating] You alarm me! Patou For a low-down dachshund who trod on his own ears! The Blackbird \Who has overheard Patou's last words, sticking Ms head between the bars of his cage] Still harping on the dachshund, is he? What's the odds, old chappie? You were the goat! — How does being the goat matter? CHANTECLER 43 Patou But you up there, scoflSng at ever)rthing, who are you, may one ask? Blackbird I'm the pet of the poultry yard! Patou Bad luck is what you'll bring them! Blackbird A prophecy-sharp? — Say, wistaria, we are twisted up with laughter! [He comes out of his cage and hops to the ground.] Patou [As he approaches.] Grrrrrrr Chantecler Hush! He's a friend! Patou A false one. Chantecler [To Blackbird.] Fine things we learn when the talk is of you! The Old Hen [Her head protruding from the basket.] Strike rotten wood, and see the wood-lice scatter! [The basket-lid drops.] Patou [To Chantecler.] He laughs at you behind your back! 44 CHANTECLER BLACKBOU) [To Patou.] Ha, retriever, you retrieve? Patott When you pour forth your heart in your ardent cry, giving it over and over, he calls it the same old saw that your jag-toothed red crest stands for! Chantecler So that's what you say? Blackbird \Afecting simplicity^ You surely don't mind? How can it affect you? And a joke about you is always so sure of success! Patou [To the Blackbird.] Point-blank, do you admire or despise the Cock? Blackbird I make fun of him in spots, but admire him in lump! Patou You always peck two kinds of seed. The Blackbird My cage has two seed-cups, you see. Patou I am single-minded and downright! The Blackbird You — are an old poodle of the year 48! I am an up-to-date bird! CHANTECLER 45 Patou [Gruffly.] Out of my way! lest I give your black coat red tails! [The Blackbird nimbly gets out of the way, Patou goes into his kennel grumbling] I'll show him some up-to-date jaws! Chantecler Be quiet! It's his way. The truth is that if once he stood in the presence of beauty, this very Blackbird would applaud! Patou Not with both wings! What can you expect of a bird who, with woodbine and juniper full in sight, pre- fers to go inside and peck at a musty biscuit? Blackbird He never seems to suspect that the poacher is a black- guardly sort of brute! Patou What I know is that the underbrush is all a delicate golden gloom The Blackbird Yes, but leaden shot can cleave your dehcate gold. The quail is such a canny bird, that he Kes low lest he make his last appearance on toast. And so, in lack of quail Patou Does the great stag delight any the less in his green forest for turning over among the grass at evening some bit of a rusty cartridge? 46 CHANTECLER The Blackbird No, old chap — but the stag, you see, is just another kind of a hat-rack! Patou Oh, but freedom, freedom, with violets looking on! Love! The Blackbird Antediluvian pastimes! not nearly such good fim as my nice new wooden trapeze. Oh, my cage, let us sign a joyivl three-six-nine years' lease! I live like a Duke, I have filtered drinking-water [At Patotj's signifi- cant start and growl, he springs aside, finishing.] You can sling mud upon me, I have a porcelain bath! Chantecler [Slightly out of patience.] Why not make a practice of talking simply and to the point? The Blackbird I like to make you sit up, and watch you blinking. Patou Grrrrr — in the plain interest of public decency, I say it behooves us The Blackbird Don't say behooves, say it's up to you, old chap! Chantecler What's all this juggling with words? CHANTECLER 47 The Blackbird The thing, Chantecler, quite the thing! I knew a city sparrow once, and it's the way they talk in fashion- able circles. Chantecler I was well acquainted with a Kttle red-breast, who lived beneath a city poet's eaves; he did not talk like you. The Blackbird I belong to my time. Every chap that's a bit of a swell nowadays must be a bit of a tough. It's smart, you know. Patou I froth at the mouth! Smart, — there's the Peacock's password! Chantecler Oh, the Peacock, by the way, what is he doing these days? The Blackbird Ogling with his tail-feathers! Patou Baneful his example has been to many an humble heart. Chantecler What signs do you see of his influence? Patou A thousand nothings. 48 CHANTECLER The Old Hen [Appearing.] Bubbles floating down the stream tell of laxmdresses up stream! [The lid drops.] Chantecler I am sure I have not seen the smallest bubble from which Patou [Indicating a Guinea-Pig, who is passing.] See there, that Guinea-pig Chantecler [Considering him.] What about him? He is Just a yellow Gtiinea-pig! GuiNEA-PiG [Snippily correcting^ Khaki, if you please! Chantecler [To Patou.] Kha ? Patou A bubble! — And yonder waddling duck Chantecler [Looking at him] He is going to take his bath The Duck [Drily] My tub! Chantecler His—? CHANTECLER 49 Patou A bubble! [A long grating noise is heard within the house Crrrrrrr, then.] The Clock Cuckoo! The Geey Hen [Leaving her hiding-place and running towards the cat- hole.] His voice! — Now through the kitty's little door I finally shaU see him! [She thrusts her head into the hole. The Cuckoo's call is not repeated.] Oh, deary, deary me! I am too late! [Calling.] Bis! Encore! Chantecler [Turning around at the noise.] Eh? The Geey Hen [Desperately, with her head in the cat-hole.] He has stopped! The Blackbird It was the half -hour. Chantecler [Close behind the Geey Hen, abruptly.] How does it happen, my love, that we are not in the fields? The Geey Hen [Turning, scared.] Goodness gracious! Chantecler What are we doing, my love, in the cat-hole? so CHANTECLER The Geey Hen [Upset.] I was just taking a peep Chantecler To see whom? The Grey Hen [More and more upset.] Oh ! Chantecler [Dramatically.] Who is it? The Grey Hen Oh Chantecler Confess! The Grey Hen [In the voice of a woman caught in guilt.] The Cuckoo ! Chantecler [Amazed.] You love him? — But wherefore? The Grey Hen [Drops her eyes, then with emotion.] He is Swiss! Patou A bubble! The Grey Hen He is a thinker. He takes his airing Chantecler She loves a clock! CHANTECLER 51 The Grey Hen — always takes his airing at the same hour, like Kant. Chantecler Like what? The Grey Hen Like Kant. Chantecler Did one ever ! Out of my sight! The Blackbird Trot, Kant you? [The Grey Hen hurries off.] Chantecler Here's a pretty Wherever did she learn that Kant — ? Patou At the Guinea-hen's. Chantecler That foolish old party of the crazy cries and the white-plastered beak? Patou She has taken a day. Chantecler A day off, do you mean? Patou No, a day at home. 52 CHANTECLER Chantecler A day at Where does she receive? The Blackbird In a comer of the kitchen-garden. Patou Under the auspices of that strawman with tht unsavoury old top-hat. Chantecler The scarecrow? The Blackbird Yes, his being there makes the affair select. Chantecler [Bewildered.] How is that? The Blackbird Don't you see? He scares off all the puny fowl — . Poor relations are not wanted at a function. Chantecler So the Guinea-hen has a day! Patoit [Pklegmatically.] A %bble! Chantecler A balloon! The Blackbird [Imitating the Guinea-Hen.] Mondays, my dear — ■ CHANTECLER S3 Chantecler And what do they do at that feather-brain's parties? Patou Cluck and cackle. The Turkey-cock airs his social gifts, the Chick gets into society. Blackbird [Imitating the Guinea-Hen.] From five to six Chantecler Evening? Patou No, morning. Chantecler What ? The Blackbird You see, she must take advantage of the time when the garden is deserted, and yet have it a five-o'clock tea. So she chose the hour when the old gardener is at his early potations. Chantecler What nonsense! The Blackbird Quite so. Patou You needn't talk. You go to her teas. Chantecler He goes ? The Blackbird Yes, I am one of their ornaments. 54 CHANTECLER Patou And I am not so sure but that some day Chantecler What are you mumbling to your brass-Studded collar? Patou — some Hen may get you too to go! Me? Chantecler You' Patou Me? Chantecler Patou Led by the end of your beak. Chantecler [In high -wrath.] Me? Patou For when a new Hen heaves in sight, you can't help yourself, you know — you lose your balance-wheel The Blackbird You slowly circumambulate the fair one [He imi- tates the Cock walking around a Hen.] "Yes, it's me. — Here I am!" And you say, "Coa " CHANTECLER 55 Chantecler I never knew a more idiotic bird! The Blackbird [Continuing to mimic Mm.] You let your wing hang, sentimentally — your foot performs a sort of stately jig — [A shot is heard.] Ha! I don't Uke that! Patou [Starts up quivering, and scents the air.] Poaching Julius is at his tricks again! The Blackbird Dog, it seems to stimulate you agreeably! Patou [With ears up-pricked and shining eyes.] Yes! [Sud- denly, as if controlling himself, passionately.] No ! The Blackbird What affects you so? Patoit Oh, horrible, horrible! A poor Kttle partridge per- haps The Blackbird Is that streaming eye, my friend, a result of age or rheumatism? Patou Neither! But I have within me several dogs, and there is conflict amidst me. My hunter's nostril twitches S6 CHANTECLER at a shot, but, directly, my house-dog's memory raises before me a bleeding wing, the glazing eye of a doe, the pathos of a rabbit's dying look — and I feel the heart of a Saint Bernard waking in my breast! [Another shot.] Chantecler Again? SCENE FIFTH The Same, A Golden Pheasant, later Bmffaut. A Golden Pheasant [Flying suddenly over the wall, and dropping in the yard, mad with fright.] Hide me! Chantecler Heavens! Patou A golden pheasant! Golden Pheasant Is this great Chantecler? The Blackbird All over the shop, we're famous! Golden Pheasant [Running hither and thither.] Save me, if you are he! Chantecler I am! — Rely on me! [Another shot.] CHANTECLER 57 Golden Pheasant [Jumping and casting himself on Chantecler.] Merci- ful powers! Chantecler But what a nervous bird it is — a golden pheasant! Golden Pheasant I have no breath left! I ran too hard! — [Faints.] The Blackbird Puff! — Out goes his light! Chantecler [Upholding the Pheasant with one wing.] How beau- tiful he is, with drooping neck and softly ruffled throat- feathers! [He runs to the drinking-trough.] Water! — One almost hesitates to dim such beauty with a wet- ting! — [He splashes him vigorously with his other mng.] The Golden Pheasant [Coming to.] I am pursued! Oh, hide me! The Blackbird "And the villain still " Here's melodrama! [To the Pheasant.] How the dickens did he manage to miss you? The Pheasant Surprise! — The huntsman was looking for a little grey lark. Seeing me rise, he cried, "Thunder!" He saw but a flash of gold, and I a flash of fire. — But the 58 CHANTECLER dog is chasing me, a horrible dog [Seeing Patou he quickly adds.] I am speaking of a hunting-dog! [To Chantecler.] Hide me! Chantecler The trouble is he is so conspicuous. That increases our dilemma. Where can he lie concealed? — Gentle sir, my lord, most noble stranger, where might we hope to hide the rainbow, supposing it in danger? Patou There by the bench with the beehives stands my green cottage, very much at yo\u: service. — Go in, I pray! [The Golden Pheasant goes in, but his long tail projects.] There is too much of this golden vanity! — The tip is still in sight. — I shall have to sit on it. [Beiffatjt appears above the wall. Long hanging ears and quivering chops] Patou [To Brutaut, affecting unconcern.] Good afternoon! Briffaut [Snuffing.] Humph, what a good smell! Patou [Pointing to his bowl.] My poor dinner! Soup with seasonable vegetables. Briffaut [Hurriedly.] Have you seen a pheasant-hen go by? Patou [In astonishment, reflecting.] A pheasant-hen ? CHANTECLER 59 Chantecler [Walking about, with an assumption of gaiety.] Im- pressive, isn't he, Briffaut there? with his look of a thoroughbred old Englishman! Patou No, but I saw a pheasant. BiUCFFATJT That was she! Patou A pheasant-hen wears dun. This was a golden pheas- ant. He went off towards the meadow. Briffaut It is she! Chantecler [Going towards him, incredulous^ A pheasant-hen with golden plumage? Briffaut Ah, you do not know what sometimes happens? Chantecler and Patou No. The Blackbird We are in for a hunting yarn! — Give me chloroform! Briffaut It sometimes happens — the thing is exceptional, of course — My master knows because he has read about 6o CHANTECLER it. — It sometimes happens — An extraordinary phe- nomenon, to be sure! which is likewise observed among moor-fowl. — It happens Patou What happens? BEIFrAUT That the pheasant-hen Ah, my dear fellows ! Chantecler [Stamping with impatience^ The pheasant-hen what? — what? Bbiffaut Makes up her mind one day that the cock-pheasant goes altogether too fine. When the male in springtime puts on his holiday feathers, she sees that he is hand- somer than she The Blackbird And it makes her sore! Beiffatjt She leaves off laying and hatching eggs. Nature then gives her back her purple and her gold, and the pheasant- hen, proud and magnificent Amazon, preferring to put on her back blue, green, yellow, all the colours of the prism, rather than under a sober grey wing to shelter a brood of young pheasants, flies freely forth — Light- mindedly she sheds the virtues of her sex, and having done it — sees life! [He sketches with his paw a slightly disrespectfid gesture.] CHANTECLER 6i Chantecler [Drily.] Pray, what do you know about it? Briffaut [Astonished.] Is he annoyed? Patou [j4si