Chantecler

Chantecler

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Chantecler, by Edmond Rostand This
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Title: Chantecler Play in Four Acts
Author: Edmond Rostand
Release Date: January 19, 2004 [EBook #10747]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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CHANTECLER ***

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CHANTECLER
Play in Four Acts By EDMOND ROSTAND
Translated By GERTRUDE HALL

1910

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
CHANTECLER 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 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 THE SPECKLED HEN THE TUFTED HEN
A Gander. A Capon. Chickens. Chicks. A Cockerel. 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 Creatures. 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, hurries toward the stage, repeating, "Not yet!"_
The curtain is again lowered. The MANAGER _turns toward the
audience, and resting one hand on the prompter'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
sounds 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 MANAGER
_precipitately shouts, "Stop!--Do not raise it yet!" 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._
A magpie cawing flies away. Great wooden shoes come running over
flags. A courtyard, is it?--If so above a valley--from whence that
softened clamour of birds and barking dogs.
More and more clearly the scene suggests itself--Magically sound
creates an atmosphere!--A sheep bell tinkles intermittently--Since there
is grazing, we may look for grass.
A tree, too--a tree must rustle in the breeze, for a bullfinch warbles his
little native song; and a blackbird whistling the song he has caught by
ear, implies, we may presume, a wicker cage.
The rattling of a wagon run out of a shed--the dripping of a bucket
drawn up overfull--the patter of doves' feet alighting on a roof--Surely
it is a farmyard--unless it be a mill!
Rustling of straw, click of a wooden latch--A stable or a haymow there
must be. The locust shrills: the weather then is fine.--Church-bells ring:
it is Sunday then.--Chatter of jays: the woods cannot be far!
Hark! Nature with the scattered voices of a fair midsummer day is
composing--in a dream!--the most mysterious of overtures--harmonised
by evening distance and the wind!

And all these sounds--song of a passing girl--laughter of children
jogged by the donkey trotting--faraway gun-reports and hunting-horns
--these sounds describe a holiday.
A window opens, a door closes--The harness shakes its bells. Is it not
plain in sight, the old farmyard?--The dog sleeps, the cat but feigns to
sleep.
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 till 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 wagon to the jingling of the harness rattles off,
jolting out ditties. A turn in the road cuts off the unfinished 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.]
Ardently