CHANTECLER, THE BLACKBIRD, PATOU, THE PHEASANT-HEN

CHANTECLER [_After a moment, to the_ BLACKBIRD _who from his cage, which he has returned, can see off over the wall._] Is he gone?

THE BLACKBIRD He is nearly out of sight!

CHANTECLER [_Going toward_ PATOU'S _kennel._] Madam, come forth!

THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Appearing at the threshold of the kennel._] Well?--A rebellious, self-freed slave I am--even as that dog was saying! But of great lineage, and proud as I am free--A pheasant of the woods!

THE BLACKBIRD Whew! We hate ourself, don't we!

THE PHEASANT-HEN In the forest where I live there comes a-poaching--

CHANTECLER That madman who would have given to vile lead a jewel for setting!

THE PHEASANT-HEN Beneath foliage--not so thick but a sunbeam may glide in!--I make my home. I am descended, however, from elsewhere. From whence? From Persia?

China? None can tell! But of one thing we may be certain: that I was meant to shimmer in the blue among the fragrant gum-trees of the East, and not to be chased through brambles by a hound!--Am I the ancient Phoenix? or the sacred Chinese hen? Whence was I brought to this land?

And how brought? And by whom? History is not explicit on the point, and leaves us a splendid choice. Wherefore I choose to have been born in Colchis, from whence I came on Jason's fist. I am all gold. Perhaps I was the Fleece!

PATOU You?

THE PHEASANT-HEN The Pheasant!

PATOU [_Politely correcting her._] Pheasant-hen.

THE PHEASANT-HEN I refer to my race, for which I stand, by token of my crimson shield.

Yes, my ancient fate of being a dead leaf beside a ruby, having appeared to me one day too distinctly dull a lot, I stole his dazzling plumage from the male. A good thing, too, for it becomes me so much better! The golden tippet, as I wear it, curves and shimmers. The emerald epaulette acquires a dainty grace. I have made of a mere uniform a miracle of style!

CHANTECLER She is distractingly lovely, so much is certain!

PATOU He is never going to fall in love with a woman dressed as a man!

THE BLACKBIRD [_Who has again hopped down from his cage._] I must go and tell the Guinea-hen that a golden bird has blown into town. She'll have a fit!

She will invite her! [_Off._]

CHANTECLER So you come to us from the East, like the Dawn?

THE PHEASANT-HEN My life has the picturesque disorder of a poem. If I came from the East, it was by way of Egypt.

PATOU [_Aside, heart-broken._] A gypsy, on top of the rest!

THE PHEASANT-HEN [_To_ CHANTECLER, _tossing and twisting her head so that the colours ripple at her throat._] Have you noticed these two shades? They are our own especial colours--the Dawn's and mine! Princess of the underbrush, queen of the glade, I am pleased to wear the yellow locks of an adventuress. Dreamy and homesick for my unknown home, I choose my palaces among the rustling flags and withered irises that fringe the pool. I dote upon the forest, and when it smells in autumn of dead leaves and decaying wood--

PATOU [_In consternation._] She is mad!

THE PHEASANT-HEN Wild as a tree-bough in a southerly gale, I tremble, flutter, spend myself in motion, till a vast languor overtakes me--

CHANTECLER [_Who for a minute or so has been letting his wing hang, now begins slowly circling about the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _in the manner of the_ BLACKBIRD _aping him, with a very gentle, throaty._] Coa--[_The_ PHEASANT-HEN _looks at him. Believing himself encouraged, he takes up again louder, while circling about her._] Coa--

THE PHEASANT-HEN My dear sir, I prefer to tell you at once that if it is for my benefit you are doing that--

CHANTECLER [_Stopping short._] What?

THE PHEASANT-HEN The eye--the peculiar gait--the drooping wing--the "Coa--"

CHANTECLER But I--

THE PHEASANT-HEN You do it all very nicely, I admit; only, it has not the very slightest effect upon me!

CHANTECLER [_Slightly abashed._] Madam--

THE PHEASANT-HEN Oh, I understand, of course. We are the ill.u.s.trious c.o.c.k! Not a Hen in the world but preens her feathers in the hope--the very touching hope, certainly--of offering us a moment's distraction, some day, between two songs. We are so sure of ourself that we never hesitate, not even when the lady is a visitor, and not quite the ordinary short-kirtled Hen whom one can engage without further ceremony by such advances--

CHANTECLER But--

THE PHEASANT-HEN I do not bestow my affections quite so lightly. For my taste, anyhow, you are altogether too frankly c.o.c.k of the Walk!

CHANTECLER Too--?

THE PHEASANT-HEN Spoiled! The only c.o.c.k to my fancy would be a plain inglorious c.o.c.k to whom I should be all in all.

CHANTECLER But--

THE PHEASANT-HEN Love a celebrated c.o.c.k? I am not such a very woman!

CHANTECLER But--well--still--We might, however, Madam, take a little stroll together!

THE PHEASANT-HEN Yes, like two friends.

CHANTECLER Two friends.

THE PHEASANT-HEN Two chickens.

CHANTECLER Very old!

THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Quickly._] No, no--not old! Very ugly!

CHANTECLER [_Quicker still._] Oh, no, not ugly! [_Coming nearer to her._] Will you take a turn in the yard?--Accept my wing!

THE PHEASANT-HEN You shall show me the sights.

CHANTECLER [_Stopping before the_ CHICKENS' _drinking-trough._]This, of course, is hideous. It is a model drinking-trough on the siphon principle, made of galvanised iron. But everything excepting that is charming, n.o.ble, time and weather worn, from the hen-house roof to the stable door--

THE BLACKBIRD [_Returning._] The Guinea-hen is having a fit!

THE PHEASANT-HEN [_To_ CHANTECLER, _looking about her._] And so you live here untroubled, and have nothing to fear?

CHANTECLER Nothing whatever. Because the owner is a vegetarian An amazing man, a lover of animals. He calls them by names borrowed from the poets. The donkey there is Midas; the heifer, Io.