Scene SIXTH

THE CROWD. [After seeing the WHITE PILE off, return tumultuously to CHANTECLER, hailing him with acclamations] Hurrah!

CHANTECLER. [Drawing away from them, in a terrible voice] Stand back! I know your worth![The crowd hastily draws back]

THE PHEASANT-HEN. [Close by his side] Come away to the woods, where true-hearted animals live!

CHANTECLER. No, I will stay here.

THE PHEASANT-HEN. After finding them out?

CHANTECLER. After finding them out.

THE PHEASANT-HEN. You will stay here?

CHANTECLER. Not for their sakes, but the sake of my song. It might spring forth less clear from any other soil! But now, to inform the Day that it is sure to be called to- morrow, I will sing![Obsequious movement of the crowd, attempting to approach.] Back! All of you! I have nothing left but my song![ALL draw away, and alone in his pride, he begins.] Co ——[To himself, stiffening himself against pain.] Nothing left but my song, therefore let us sing well![He tries again.] Co—— Now, I wonder, shall I take it as a chest-note, or — Co — a head-note? Shall I count one-three, or — Co — And the accent? Since they filled my head with all that sort of thing, I — Coocooroo — Keekeeree —— And the theory? The dynamic theory? Cock-a——I am all tangled up in schools and rules and rubbish! If he reduced his flight to a theory, what eagle would ever soar? Co ——[Trying again, and end- ing in a raucous, abortive crow.] Co —— I cannot sing any more, I, whose method was not to know how, but be quite certain why![In a cry of despair.] I have nothing left! They have taken everything from me, my song and everything else. How shall I get it back?

THE PHEASANT-HEN. [Opening her wings.] Come away to the woods!

CHANTECLER. [Falling upon her breast.] I love you!

THE PHEASANT-HEN. To the woods, where the simple birds sing their sweet unconscious songs!

CHANTECLER. Let us go![Both go toward the back. CHANTECLER turning.] But there is one thing I wish to say ——

THE PHEASANT-HEN. [Trying to lead him away.] Come to the woods!

CHANTECLER. —— to all the Guineahennery gathered beneath these arbors. Let the garden — the Bees agree with me, I fancy! — let the garden work untroubled at changing its blossoms into fruit——

BUZZING OF BEES. We agree—ee—ee!

CHANTECLER. Nothing good is ever accomplished in the midst of noise. Noise prevents the bough ——

BUZZING. [Further off.]

So say we — e — e! we —e — e!

CHANTECLER. —— from bringing its apple to perfection, prevents the grape——

BUZZING. [Dying away among the foliage.]

So say we — e— e!

CHANTECLER. ——from ripening on the vine.[Going toward the back with the PHEASANT-HEN.] Let us go![Turning and coming again angrily toward the front.] But I wish furthermore to say to these H ——[The PHEASANT-HEN lays her wing across his beak.] —— ens that those unnatural Cocks will lightly take themselves away, back to the gilded mangers of their sole affection, the moment they hear the cry of Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick![Imitating a servant girl calling. CHICKENS to feed.] For all those charlatans are stalking appetites, and nothing more!

THE PHEASANT-HEN. [Trying to lead him off.] Come! Come!

A HEN. She is eloping with him.

CHANTECLER. I am coming! But——[Coming forward again.] I must first say to this Peacock, in the presence of that Addlepate ——[Indicating the GUINEA-HEN.]

THE GUINEA-HEN. He insults me in my own house. Sensational!

CHANTECLER. False hero whom Fashion has taken for leader, you walk in such terror of appearing behindhand to the eyes of your own tail that your throat is blue with it! But, urged forward, on and on, by every staring eye upon it, you will fall at last, breathless for good and all, and end in the false immortality bestowed, false artist, by the ——[Imitating the manner of the PEACOCK.] shall I say bird-stuffer?

THE GUINEA-HEN. [Mechanically.] Yes!

CHANTECLER. No. Taxidermist, — to use the word you would prefer. That, my dear Peacock, is what I wished to say.

THE BLACKBIRD. Bang!

CHANTECLER. [Turning toward him.] As for you ——

THE BLACKBIRD. Fire away!

CHANTECLER. I will! You became acquainted one grey morning with a city sparrow, did you not tell us so? That was your ruin. You have been possessed ever since with the desire to appear like one yourself.

THE BLACKBIRD. But——

CHANTECLER. From that hour, unresting, acting the sparrow night and day, the sparrow even in sleep, self-condemned to play the sparrow without respite, you have appeared — a famous jay!

THE BLACKBIRD. But——

CHANTECLER. Pathetic effort of a country birdkin, twisting his thick bill to talk with a city accent! Ah, you wish to bite off bits of slang? My friend, they are green! Every grape you pick breaks in your jaws, for city grapes are glass bubbles! Having taken from the spar- row only his make-up and grimace, you are just a clumsy understudy, a sort of vice-buffoon! And you serve up stale old cynicisms picked up with crumbs in fashionable club-rooms, poor little bird, and think to astonish us with your budget of scandalous news ——

THE BLACKBIRD. But——

CHANTECLER. I have not exhausted my ammunition! You wish to imitate the sparrow? But the sparrow does not, slyly and meanly mischievous, make a cult of spright- liness, is not funny with authority, is not the pedant of flippancy! You percher among low bushes, who never care to fly, you wish to imitate ——[Turning to one of the exotic COCKS cackling behind him] Silence, Cock of Japan! or I shall spoil a picture!

THE JAPANESE COCK. [Hurriedly.] I beg your pardon!

CHANTECLER. [Continuing to the BLACKBIRD.] You wish to imitate the sparrow, who, rising on light wing, underlines his words with a telegraph wire! Very well, I hate to grieve you, but—you know I can hear the sparrows when they come to steal my corn! — you are not in it, you do not pull it off. Your lingo is a fake!

THE BLACKBIRD. A——?

CHANTECLER. And your performance is a shine!

THE BLACKBIRD. He can talk slang?

CHANTECLER. I can talk anything! — It's the Paris article made in Germany!

THE BLACKBIRD. But——

CHANTECLER. Fire away, I think you said. I hope you don't mind my air-gun?

THE BLACKBIRD. I——

CHANTECLER. The Grand Master of Illuminations is entirely at your service. What do you say?

THE BLACKBIRD. [Hastily.] Nothing![He tries to get away.]

CHANTECLER. You wish to ape the sparrow of city streets! But his impudence is not a manner of prudence, an art of remaining vague, an elegant method of having no opinion. His eyes always express either wrath or delight. Do you care to know the secret by which the little beggar, with his "Chappie" and his "See" can steal away our hearts? It is that he is frank and fearless, that he believes, that he loves, that the railings of a balcony where some child strews crumbs for him are the only cage he ever knew! It is that one can be sure of his gaiety of soul, since he is gay when he is hungry! But you who, void of gaiety because void of love, have imagined that evil wit can take the place of good humour, and that one can play the sparrow when he is a sleek and vulgar trimmer, sniggering behind his wing, what I say to you is, "Guess again. Mock-sparrow, guess again!"

THE GUINEA-HEN. [Always applauding everything that is said at her receptions.] Good! That was extremely good!

A CHICKEN. [To the crestfallen BLACKBIRD.] You will make him smart for this?

THE BLACKBIRD. [Prudently.] No. I will take it out on the Turkey.

[At this point a VOICE calls, "Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick!" and all the FANCY COCKS, rushing toward the irresistible call to food, hurry out, tumbling over one another in their haste.]

THE GUINEA-HEN. [Running after them.] Are you going?

A PADUA COCK. [The last to leave] I beg to be excused![Disappears.]

THE GUINEA-HEN. [In the midst of the hubbub] Are you going? Must you go? Oh, don't go yet!

CHANTECLER. [To the PHEASANT-HEN.] Come, my golden Pheasant!

THE GUINEA-HEN. [Running to CHANTECLER.] Are you running away?

CHANTECLER. To save my song!

THE GUINEA-HEN. [Running to the YOUNG GUINEA-COCK.] My son, I am in such a state — I am in such ——

A HEN. [Calling after CHANTECLER.] And when shall we see you again?

CHANTECLER. [Before going] When you have grown teeth![Off with the PHEASANT-HEN.]

THE GUINEA-HEN. [To the YOUNG GUINEA-COCK.] This has been quite the finest affair of the season![Darting madly about among the departing guests.] Au revoir! Mondays in August! Don't forget!

THE MAGPIE. [Announcing.] The Tortoise!