Scene Seventh
The Same, the Guinea-hen, and the whole Poultry-yard
Cries outside, nearer and nearer, “Ah!—” Enter all the Hens in tumult, preceded by the agitated Guinea-hen.
The Blackbird
[In his cage.] The next course will be Guinea-hen!
The Guinea-hen
[Running to the Pheasant-hen.] Ah, my dear, my dear, my dear!—A
beauty, a very beauty!—We have come to make your acquaintance, my dear!
[General admiration, “Ah!—” The Pheasant-hen is surrounded. Conversation, cries, clucking.]
Chantecler
[Watching the Pheasant-hen, aside.] How well she walks, with free
and graceful gait!—[He looks at the Hens.] So differently from my
Hens! [Irritably, to the Hens.] Ladies, you walk as if you had
blisters! You walk as if you trod on your own eggs!
Patou
No mistaking the symptoms! He is very much in love.
The Guinea-hen
[Presenting her son to the Pheasant-hen.] The Guinea-cock, my son.
The Young Guinea-cock
[Looking admiringly at the Pheasant-hen.] What a jolly shade of blond!
A Hen
[Disparagingly.] Like butter!
Chantecler
[Turning, dryly to the Hens.] It is time you went indoors.
The Pheasant-hen
[Amiably.] So soon?
Chantecler
They retire early.
A Hen
[A little mortified.] Yes, we must turn in.
The Pheasant-hen
They go in by a ladder!
The Guinea-hen
[To the Pheasant-hen.] Let us be great friends, my dear, shall we?
Chantecler
[Looking at the Pheasant-hen, aside.] Her sumptuous court-dress sets
her apart from the rest, and removes her far above.—My Hens
are dowdies!
The Pheasant-hen
[To the Guinea-hen, excusing herself.] I return to my forest home
to-night.
The Guinea-hen
[In excessive grief.] So soon—? [A shot in the distance.]
Patou
They are still after game.
The Guinea-hen
You must stay.
Chantecler
[Eagerly.] That’s it! Let us keep her a prisoner among us till
to-morrow.
Pheasant-hen
But where can I spend the night?
Patou
[Indicating his kennel.] There, in my bachelor’s quarters.
Pheasant-hen
I ?—Sleep beneath a roof?
Patou
[Insisting.] Go in, I pray.
The Pheasant-hen
But you? What shall you do?
Patou
I shall do very well!
The Pheasant-hen
[Resigning herself.] I will stay then until to-morrow.
The Guinea-hen
[With piercing cries.] Ah! Ah! But to-morrow, my dear! to-morrow—
All
[In alarm.] What is it?
The Young Guinea-cock
To-morrow is my mother’s day!
The Guinea-hen
[Impetuously.] My dear, would you care to come to-morrow quite
informally, and take a simple snail with us? The Peacock—
Chantecler
[Mounting the ladder, from whence he can inspect the scene.] Quiet, if
you please! Evening has blown its smoke across the sky—[In a tone of
command.] Is every one in his accustomed place?
The Guinea-hen
[Lower, to the Pheasant-hen.] The Peacock is coming. We shall hold our
little gathering among the currant-bushes.
Chantecler
Are the turkeys on their roost?
The Guinea-hen
[Same business.] From five to six.
Chantecler
Are the ducks in their pointed house?
The Guinea-hen
[Same business.] The Tortoise has kindly said we may expect her.
Pheasant-hen
Indeed?
Chantecler
[On the last rung of the ladder.] Is every one under cover?—Every
chick under a wing?
The Guinea-hen
[Still insisting with the Pheasant-hen that she come on the morrow.]
The Tufted Hen has promised to bring the Cock.—[To Chantecler.]
Charmed, I am sure.
Chantecler
But—
The Tufted Hen
[Looking out of the hen-house.] You will come, won’t you, dear?
Chantecler
No.
The Pheasant-hen
[At the foot of the ladder, looking up at him.] Oh, but you will?
Chantecler
Why?
The Pheasant-hen
Because you said “No!” to the other!
Chantecler
[Wavering.] Ah!
Patou
Humph! I beseech you—
Chantecler
[Still wavering.] I —
Patou
Humph! He is weakening.—They will make him pay dear if he yields!
The Old Hen
[Appearing.] Make a reed into a pipe and play a tune upon it! [The
basket-lid drops.]
[Night is thickening.]
Chantecler
[Still hesitating.] I —
A Voice
Let us go to sleep—
The Turkey
[On his roost, solemnly.] Quandoque dormitat—
The Blackbird
[In his cage.] Dormittimus!
Chantecler
[Very firmly to the Pheasant-hen.] I will not go. Good night.
The Pheasant-hen
[Slightly offended.] Good night! [With a curt hop she enters the
dog-kennel.]
Patou
[Falling asleep, stretched in front of his kennel.] Let us sleep until
the sky grows pink—pink as—as—a puppy’s tummy—
The Guinea-hen
[Dropping off.] From five to six—
The Blackbird
[Likewise dropping off.] Tew—tew—[He nods.] tew—
Chantecler
[Still at the top of the ladder.] All sleeps.—[He spies a Chick
stealing out.] Is that a chick I see?—[Springing after him and
driving him in.] Let me catch you!—[In driving back the Chick, he
finds himself near the kennel. He calls very softly.] Pheasant-hen!
The Pheasant-hen
[Lost among the straw, sleepily.] What do you want?
Chantecler
[After a moment’s hesitation.] Nothing.—Nothing! [He goes back to
the top of his ladder.]
The Pheasant-hen
Shall I be able to sleep, I wonder—
Patou
[Falling sound asleep.] A puppy’s tum—
The Pheasant-hen
[Indistinctly, overcome by slumber.] To sleep under a roof?—I with
my gypsy tastes?
Chantecler
I am going in. [He disappears in the hen-house. He is heard saying in a
dreamy voice.] It is time to shut my—my—
The Pheasant-hen
[In a last effort.]—gyp—sy—tastes.—[Her head nods and disappears
among the straw.]
Chantecler
[His voice, sleepier and fainter.]—to shut my eyes—[Silence. He
sleeps. Two green eyes are seen suddenly kindling at the top of
the wall.]
The Cat
And to open mine! [Immediately two more yellow eyes shine forth from
the darkness above the hay-cock.]
A Voice
And mine! [Two more yellow eyes on the wall.]
Another Voice
And mine! [Two more yellow eyes.]
Another Voice
And mine!