Chantecler | Page 7

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!
A HORN [In the distance.] Honk! Honk! Honk!
CHANTECLER [Rushing in front of the HENS and spreading his
wings before them.] Not yet!
THE HORN [Very near, accompanied by a terrific snorting.] Honk!
Honk! Honk!
CHANTECLER [Barring the HENS' passage, while everything shakes.]
Wait!
THE HORN [Far away.] Honk! Honk! Honk!
CHANTECLER [Standing 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 fun! Now everything we eat
will taste of gasoline!

SCENE THIRD
CHANTECLER, the BLACKBIRD in his cage, the CAT _still asleep
on the wall, the GREY HEN behind the OLD HEN'S basket._
CHANTECLER [To himself, after a pause.] No, I will not trust 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 barleycorn--Eat
and be merry.--The gear upon my head and under my eye is a far more
gorgeous red, when I puff out my chest and strut, than any robin's
waistcoat or finch's tie.--A fine day. All is well. I curvet--I blow my
horn. 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--
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 humour? Your dogma, suspicion is! Call it your
dogma!
PATOU You can stoop to a pun? 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 his head.] Chantecler, how do we know?
CHANTECLER [Considering him.] Your appearance is in fact peculiar
What actually is your breed?
PATOU I am a horrible mixture, issue of every passer-by! 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!
PATOU 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 humble sunlit
dominions.
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?
PATOU There are two. First, in yonder cage--
CHANTECLER Well?
PATOU That satirical whistling.
CHANTECLER What about it?
PATOU Pernicious.
CHANTECLER In what way?
PATOU In every way!
CHANTECLER [Ironical.] Bad as all that, is it? [The PEACOCK'S