Chantecler
Ah—?
The Pheasant-hen
[Softly, coming closer to him.] What would be showing a sweet, delightful, and fully masculine weakness—
Chantecler
[In alarm at her approach.] What?
The Pheasant-hen
Would be to tell me your secret. Oh, just a wee bit!
Chantecler
[With a start.] The secret of my song?
The Pheasant-hen
Yes.
Chantecler
Golden Hen, my secret—
The Pheasant-hen
[Coaxingly.] Often from the edge of the woods I hear you in the first golden glimmer of day—
Chantecler
[Flattered.] My song has reached your shapely little ear?
The Pheasant-hen
It has!