Chantecler | Page 8

_squall is heard in the distance: "Ee--yong!"_]
PATOU And then that cry, the Peacock's!
[The PEACOCK, further off: "Ee--yong!"]

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
cynicism and his slang. Now the one, travelling salesman of blighting
corrosive laughter, and the other, brainless ambassador 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 corner, 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!
CHANTECLER [Indulgently.] 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 fellow!
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 depreciates!
CHANTECLER Taste, my dear fellow, he unmistakably 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 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, unexpected 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!
PATOU 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!
CHANTECLER [Amused at PATOU'S violence.] The blackbird in
short is wicked, stupid, ugly--
PATOU 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 nothing 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 Come, Patou!--
PATOU 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