Scene Eighth
The Poultry-yard asleep. The Cat awake. Three Screech-owls, later the Mole and the Voice of the Cuckoo.
First Voice
Two green eyes?
The Cat
[Sitting up on the wall, and looking at the other phosphorescent eyes.] Six golden eyes?
First Voice
On the wall?
The Cat
On the rick?—[He calls.] Owls!
The Owls
Cat!
The Blackbird
[Waking up.] What’s this?
The Screech-owl
[To the Cat.] Great plot against him!
The Cat
To-night?
The Three Owls
To-night, too-whit!
The Cat
Pfitt!—Where?
The Owls
The hollies, too-whoo!
The Cat
What o’clock?
The Owls
Eight, too-whit! too-whoo!
First Owl
Bats weaving soft black snares of flight—
The Cat
Are they with us?
The Three Owls
They are!
First Owl
Mole, burrowing from nether to upper night—
The Cat
Is she with us?
The Three Owls
She is!
The Cat
[Talking toward the house-door.] You, strike your eight strokes bravely, Cuckoo of the little clock!
The Screech-owl
Is he with us?
The Cat
He is!—And I am pleased to tell you, silent night-watchers that some of the day-birds are likewise with us.
The Turkey
[Coming forward surrounded by a number of the barnyard constituents, obsequiously.] So it is settled for this evening, dear Round Eyes? You will be there?
The Owls
We will be there! All the Round Eyes of the neighbourhood will be there!
The Blackbird
That’s a show I d like to see!
Patou
[In his sleep.] Grrrrrrr—
The Cat
[To the startled Night-birds.] The dog is dreaming.—He growls in his sleep.
Chantecler
[Inside the hen-house.] Coa—
The Owls
[Frightened.] Himself!
The Turkey
Fly!
First Owl
No need. The night is dark. We can vanish by merely closing our eyes. [They shut their luminous eyes. Darkness. Chantecler appears at the top of the ladder.]
Chantecler
[To the Blackbird.] Did you hear anything, Blackbird?
The Blackbird
I did, indeed, old chap.
The Owls
[Frightened.] What’s this?
The Blackbird
A black conspiracy—
Chantecler
Ah?
The Blackbird
[With melodramatic emphasis.] Against you!—Tremble!
Chantecler
[Going in again, unalarmed.] Joker!
The Owls
He has gone in.
The Blackbird
I have betrayed no one!
An Owl
The Blackbird then is with us?
The Blackbird
No—but may I come and look on?
An Owl
A Night-bird never eats a black bird. You can come.
The Blackbird
The password?
The Owl
Terror and Talons!
The Pheasant-hen
[Putting her head out of the dog-kennel.] I can’t breathe in that stifling, low-roofed little house, and—[Catching sight of the Night-birds.] Oh!—[She darts aside, behind the kennel, and watches.]
The Owls
Hush! [They close their eyes. The Cat does the same. After a time, hearing no further sound, they open them again.] It was nothing. Let us be off.
The Group of the Disaffected
[With fawning obsequiousness to the Night-birds.] Success to you, Owls,—success!
The Owl
Thanks! But how is it that you are with us?
The Cat
Ah, night brings out what daylight will not own to! I do not like the Cock because the Dog does.—There you have it!
The Turkey
I do not like him, for the reason that having known him as a Chick I cannot admit him as a Cock!
A Duck
I do not like the Cock because, not being web-footed, he marks his passage by a track of stars!
A Chicken
I do not like the Cock because I m such a homely bird!
Another Chicken
I do not like the Cock because he has his picture painted in purple on all the plates!
Another Chicken
I do not like the Cock because on all the steeples he has his statue in gilt-bronze!
An Owl
[To a big overgrown Chicken.] Well, well!—And you, Capon?
The Capon
[Dryly.] I do not like the Cock!
The Cuckoo
[Beginning to strike eight inside the house.] Cuckoo!
First Owl
The hour!
Cuckoo
Cuckoo!
Second Owl
Let us go!
The Cuckoo
Cuckoo!
First Owl
The moon!
The Cuckoo
Cuckoo!
First Owl
Silently cleave the blue air—
The Cuckoo
Cuckoo!
The Mole
[Suddenly pushing up through the ground.]—the dark earth!
First Owl
There comes the Mole!
The Cuckoo
Cuckoo!
First Owl
[To the Mole.] And you, why do you hate him?
The Mole
I hate him because I have never seen him!
The Cuckoo
Cuckoo!
First Owl
And you, Cuckoo, do you know why you hate him?
The Cuckoo
[On the last stroke.] Because he does not have to be wound up! Cuckoo!
First Owl
And we do not love—
Second Owl
[Hurriedly.] We are keeping the others waiting—
All
—the Cock, because—[They fly off. Silence.]
The Pheasant-hen
[Coming slowly from behind the kennel.] I am beginning to love him!
Curtain
Act Second
The Morning of the Cock
Wild hillside, moss-grown and ferny, overlooking a valley with scattered villages and winding river. Ruined wall, fragment of some vanished terrace. Gigantic chestnut tree, rank hollies and foxgloves. Litter suggesting neglected corner of a park: gardening implements lying on the ground, fagots, broken flower-pots.