Patou
When that great shadow falls, it is not the fine, strange Cocks we trust to keep off the bird of prey!
Chantecler
[Suddenly grown great of size, his wounds forgotten, stands in the midst of them, and in an authoritative tone.] Yes, close around me, all of you, all! [All, huddled in their feathers, their heads drawn in between their wings, press against him.]
The Pheasant-hen
Dear, brave, and gentle heart!
Chantecler
[The shadow sweeps over the crowd a second time. The Game Cock makes himself small. Chantecler alone remains standing, in the midst of a heap of ruffled, trembling feathers.]
A Hen
[Looking up at the Hawk.] Twice the black shadow has swept over us!
Chantecler
[Calling to the Chicks, who come madly running.] Chicks, come here to me!
The Pheasant-hen
You take them under your wing?
Chantecler
I must. Their mother is a box!
The Pheasant-hen
[Looking upward.] He hovers over us—[The shadow of the Hawk, circling lower and lower, passes for the third time, darker than ever.]
All
[In a moan of fear.] Ah!