Scene THIRD

CHANTECLER. [Eagerly] Keep watch! They are going to talk with me from home.

THE WOODPECKER. [Interested.] Who?

CHANTECLER. The Blackbird.

THE WOODPECKER. I thought he hated you.

CHANTECLER. He came near it, but the Blackbird cast of mind admits of compromise, and it amuses him to keep me informed.

THE WOODPECKER. Is he coming?

CHANTECLER. [Who is a different bird since the PHEASANT-HEN'S exit, light-hearted, boyishly cheerful.] No, but the blue morning-glory opening in his cage amid the wistaria, communicates by subterranean filaments with this white convolvulus trembling above the pool.[Going to the convolvulus.] So that by talking into its chalice——[He plunges his bill into one of the trembling milky trumpets.] Hello!

THE WOODPECKER. [Nodding to himself] From the Greek, allos, another. He talks with another.

CHANTECLER. Hello! The Blackbird, please!

THE WOODPECKER. [Keeping watch.] Most imprudent, this is! To choose among the convolvuli exactly the one which——

CHANTECLER. [Lighter and lighter of mood, returning to the WOODPECKER.] But it's the only one open all night! When the Blackbird answers, the Bee who sleeps in the flower wakes up and we ——

THE BEE. [Inside the convolvulus.] Vrrrrrrrrr!

CHANTECLER. [Briskly running to the flower and listening at the horn-shaped receiver.] Ah? This morning, did you say?

THE WOODPECKER. [Filled with curiosity.] What is it?

CHANTECLER. [In a voice of sudden emotion.] Thirty chicks have been born![Listening again.] Briffaut, the hunting-dog, is ill?[As if something interfered with his hearing.] I believe it is the Dragon-flies, deafening us with the crackling of their wings——[Shouting] Will you be so kind, young ladies, as not to cut us off?[Listening] And big Julius obliges Patou to go with him on his hunting expeditions?[To the WOODPECKER.] Ah, you ought to know my friend Patou![Burying his bill again in the flower ] So? Without me everything goes wrong? Yes![With satisfaction.] Yes! Waste and carelessness, naturally!

THE WOODPECKER. [Who has been keeping watch, warns him suddenly under breath.] Here she comes!

CHANTECLER. [With his bill in the flower.] Indeed?

THE WOODPECKER. [Fluttering desperately.] Hush!

CHANTECLER. The Ducks spent the night under the cart, did they?

THE WOODPECKER. Pst!