THE BARN-OWL Though the Night be still black, we are painfully aware of it growing less and less black!

THE SCREECH-OWL When his metallic voice has cleft the night, we squirm like a worm in a fruit that is cut in two.

THE BLACKBIRD [_On his f.a.got, mystified._] The other c.o.c.ks, however--

THE GRAND-DUKE Their song creates no uneasiness. It is his song which must be silenced.

ALL THE NIGHT-BIRDS [_Flapping their wings, in a long lament._] Silenced! Silenced!

AN OWL How can it be accomplished?

THE SCREECH-OWL The Blackbird here has worked in our cause.

THE BLACKBIRD Who--I?

THE SCREECH-OWL Yes, you laughed at him.

ALL [_Cackling._] Ha, ha!

THE GRAND-DUKE [_Spreading his wings._] Hush! [_They resume their sinister stillness._]

THE SCREECH-OWL But his song has not acted any the less directly on our gall-bladders for the fun that has been made of him. He has grown stronger than ever since he was found ridiculous.

ALL What shall we do?

THE SCREECH-OWL The Peac.o.c.k, that great b.o.o.by--

ALL [_Cackling and rocking._] Ha, ha!

THE GRAND-DUKE [_Opening his wings._] Hush! [_All instantly motionless._]

THE SCREECH-OWL Through the Peac.o.c.k, likewise working in our cause, the c.o.c.k came out of fashion. But his song is just as inconvenient, in fashion or out of it.

He is all the more proudly uncompromising for no longer being in style.

ALL What shall we do?

AN OWL Cut his throat!

CRIES Death to the c.o.c.k!

AN OWL Death to that aristocrat posing as a democrat and socialist!

ANOTHER With spurs on his heels, but a liberty cap on his head!

THE GRAND-DUKE Night-birds all, arise!

[ALL, _arising with outspread wings and glaring eyes, increase enormously in size. The night appears doubly dark._]

THE BLACKBIRD [_With unabated lightness._] Midnight to the fore!

THE SCREECH-OWL Kill him! But how can we, when our eyes cease to see the moment he comes out?

ALL [_Wailing like an ancient chorus._] Woe!

THE OLD HORNED-OWL [_Craftily._] How kill--from afar?

THE GRAND-DUKE By means of what secret spring?

A VOICE [_From the tree._] Duke, may I lay a plan before the a.s.sembly?

THE GRAND-DUKE Scops! Let us hear!

ALL [_At sight of a small_ OWL _dropping from a bough, and coming forward with tiny hops._] Scops, dear little Scops!

SCOPS [_Bowing before the_ GRAND-DUKE.] You are aware, mighty Blind-by-day-and-seer-by-night, that in pleasant gardens up yonder hill a breeder of birds--termed aviculturist, raises for exhibitions--termed agricultural, the most magnificent c.o.c.ks of the most extraordinary varieties. Now, that great discoverer of rare birds, the Peac.o.c.k, who, possessing a voice which pierces the ear-drum cannot abide a voice which pierces the darkness--the Peac.o.c.k, whose specialty it is to confer celebrity upon every strange beast--

THE GRAND-DUKE [_To his neighbour._] From every strange region!

SCOPS Cherishes the dream of presenting these same c.o.c.ks to-morrow, in the kitchen garden, at the--

ALL TOGETHER [_Laughing._] Guinea-hen's!

SCOPS And launching among her set these Birds whose glory will be the finishing blow to the glory of Chantecler.

THE BLACKBIRD Flatten him out like a pan cake!

THE SCREECH OWL But those c.o.c.ks are always locked in!

SCOPS I am coming to that. This evening, when a maid, having entered their wire-netted close, was scattering corn in a golden shower, I started up suddenly from the hollow of a pollard willow, and the girl--

AN OWL [_To his neighbour._] What a bright mind, our little Scops!

SCOPS At sight of the ill-omened bird--

ALL [_Cackling and rocking._] Ha, ha!

THE GRAND-DUKE [_Spreading his wings._] Hush! [_All suddenly still._]

SCOPS Fled, with one arm across her eyes! The cage was left open, and the whole fantastic host will meet Chantecler to-morrow at the--

ALL [_With peals of laughter._] Guinea-hen's!

THE BLACKBIRD He is not going. He has refused.

SCOPS The devil!

THE CAT [_Quietly._] Go on, Scops. He will be there.