The Pheasant-hen
I love you!
Chantecler
Say it again, and I will gild that mountain suddenly!
The Pheasant-hen
[Wildly.] I love you!—Let me see you gild it!
Chantecler
[In his greatest, most splendid manner.] Cock-a-doodle-doo! [The mountain turns golden.]
The Pheasant-hen
[Pointing to the lower ranges, still purple.] But the hills?
Chantecler
Each in its turn. To the highest peaks belong the earliest rays! Cock-a-doodle-doo!
The Pheasant-hen
Ah!—across yonder drowsing slope a stealing gleam—
Chantecler
[Joyously.] I dedicate it to you!
The Pheasant-hen
The distant villages are coming into view.
Chantecler
Cock-a—[His voice breaks.]