The Pheasant-hen
Every hollow in every tree is pink as a wild rose—
Chantecler
[With growing enthusiasm.] Since love lends me strength in addition to faith, I say the Day to-day shall be more beautiful that the Day!—Do you see? Do you see the eastern sky at my voice dappling itself with light?
The Pheasant-hen
[Lured along and half persuaded by the madness of the Cock.] Such a thing might be, after all, since love is involved in the mystery!
Chantecler
Resume, horizon, at my command, your fringe of little poplars!
The Pheasant-hen
[Bending over the valley.] There emerges from the shadow, gradually, a world of your creation—
Chantecler
Sacred things you are witnessing—To sacred things I am initiating you!—Define your outlines, distant hills! Pheasant-hen, do you love me?
The Pheasant-hen
We shall always love to be in the secret of the Makers of Dawn!
Chantecler
You help me to sing better. Come closer. Collaborate.
The Pheasant-hen
[Springing to his side.] I love you!
Chantecler
Every word you whisper in my ear shall be translated into sunshine for all the world to see!