Second Toad
Since we are assembled around a table, why should we not offer to the Chief—
Chantecler
[Modestly, hanging back from the suggested honour.]Gentlemen—
Second Toad
—to the Chief of whom we stood in notable need, a banquet?
All
[Beating enthusiastically upon the toadstool.] A banquet!
The Pheasant-hen
[Looking out from the tree.] What is the matter?
Chantecler
[In spite of all, rather flattered.] A banquet!
The Pheasant-hen
[Slightly ironical.] Shall you accept?
Chantecler
You see, my dear—the new tendencies—Art,—the thinking contingency of the Forest—[Indicating the Toads.] Yes, I have lent wings to—[In a light and careless tone.] It’s all up with the Nightingale, you see. Musty old method! Antiquated trill! This is the way he goes on—[To the Toads.] How was it you said he went on?
All the Toads
[Comically.] Tio! Tio!
Chantecler
[To the Pheasant-hen, with pitying indulgence.] He goes on like this: Tio! Tio! And I believe I need not scruple to accept—