[The Woodpecker’s knock is heard: Rat-tat-tat.]
Chantecler
Come in!
The Pheasant-hen
[To Chantecler.] Do you promise?
The Woodpecker
[Appears, soberly nodding his red cap.] Tiri-para! sings the small sedge-warbler to the reeds. Incontrovertibly from the Greek. Para, along, and the word water is understood. [Disappears.]
Chantecler
He has Greek on the brain!
The Pheasant-hen
[Reverting to her idea.] Am I the whole, whole world to you?
Chantecler
Of course you are, only—
The Pheasant-hen
In my green-sleeved Oriental robe, I look to you—how do I look?
Chantecler
Like a living commandment ever to worship that which comes from the East.
The Pheasant-hen
[Exasperated.] Will you stop thinking of the light of day, and think only of the light in my eyes?