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!