Subjects! Subjects! Subjects!
Madame is already shaking herself like a wet hen.
But yes, my dear! we are both subjects. And as subjects, we enjoy a lovely equality, liberty, my dear! Equality! Fraternity or Sorority! my dear!
Aren’t you pleased?
But it’s no use talking to a wet hen. That “subject” was a cold douche.
As subjects, men and women may be equal.
But as objects, it’s another pair of shoes. Where, I ask you, is the equality between an arrow and a horseshoe? or a serpent and a squash-blossom? Find me the equation that equates the cock and the hen.
You can’t.
As inhabitants of my backyard, as loyal subjects of my rancho, they, the cock and the hen, are equal. When he gets wheat, she gets wheat. When sour milk is put out, it is as much for him as for her. She is just as free to go where she likes, as he is. And if she likes to crow at sunrise, she may. There is no law against it. And he can lay an egg, if the fit takes him. Absolutely nothing forbids.
Isn’t that equality? If it isn’t, what is?