The Blackbird
But—
Chantecler
Fire away, I think you said. I hope you don’t mind my air-gun?
The Blackbird
I —
Chantecler
The Grand Master of Illuminations is entirely at your service. What do you say?
The Blackbird
[Hastily.] Nothing! [He tries to get away.]
Chantecler
You wish to ape the sparrow of city streets! But his impudence is not a manner of prudence, an art of remaining vague, an elegant method of having no opinion. His eyes always express either wrath or delight. Do you care to know the secret by which the little beggar, with his “Chappie” and his “See” can steal away our hearts? It is that he is frank and fearless that he believes, that he loves, that the railings of a balcony where some child strews crumbs for him are the only cage he ever knew! It is that one can be sure of his gaiety of soul, since he is gay when he is hungry! But you who, void of gaiety because void of love, have imagined that evil wit can take the place of good humour, and that one can play the sparrow when he is a sleek and vulgar trimmer, sniggering behind his wing, what I say to you is, “Guess again, Mock-sparrow, guess again!”
The Guinea-hen
[Always applauding everything that is said at her receptions.] Good! That was extremely good!
A Chicken
[To the crestfallen Blackbird.] You will make him smart for this?
The Blackbird
[Prudently.] No. I will take it out on the Turkey. [At this point a Voice calls, “Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick!” and all the Fancy Cocks, rushing toward the irresistible call to food, hurry out, tumbling over one another in their haste.]
The Guinea-hen
[Running after them.] Are you going?