The Pheasant-hen
Go, go, and forget our forest!
Chantecler
No, I shall never forget the noble green forest where I learned that he who has witnessed the death of his dream must either die at once or else arise stronger than before.
The Pheasant-hen
[In a voice which she does her best to make insulting.] Go and get into your hen-house by the way of a ladder.
Chantecler
The birds have taught me that I can use my wings to go in.
The Pheasant-hen
Go and see your old Hen in her old broken basket.
Chantecler
Ah, forest of the Toads, forest of the Poacher, forest of the Nightingale, and of the Pheasant-hen, when my old peasant mother sees me home again, back from your green recesses where pain is so interwoven with love, what will she say?
Patou
[Imitating the Old Hen’s affectionate quaver.] How that Chick has grown!
Chantecler
[Emphatically.] Of course she will! [Turning to leave.]
The Pheasant-hen
He is going! When faithless they turn to leave, oh, that we had arms, arms to hold them fast,—but we have only wings!
Chantecler
[Stops short and looks at her, troubled.] She weeps?