Chantecler
Chantecler.
The Pheasant-hen
[Running desperately to the Dog.] Patou!
Chantecler
[To Patou, who is growling between his teeth.] You, keep out of this!
Patou
So I will, but it’s rrrrrrrough!
The Pheasant-hen
[To Chantecler.] A Cock does not risk his life for a Rose!
Chantecler
A slur upon a flower is a slur upon the Sun!
The Pheasant-hen
[Running to the Blackbird.] Do something! This must be patched up—You know you had promised me!
The Blackbird
Everything can be patched up, my dear, except the quarrels of a fellow’s friends!
The Guinea-hen
[Giving loud cries of despair.] Horrible! Oh, horrible A five-o’clock tea at which guests kill each other! How dreadful—[To her son.] that the Tortoise should not have got here yet!
A Voice
[Crying.] Chantecler, ten against one!