Chantecler
Your humour? Your dogma, suspicion is! Call it your dogma!
Patou
You can stoop to a pun? From bad to worse! I m enough of a psychologist to feel the evil spreading, and I ve the scent of a rat-terrier.
Chantecler
But you are no rat-terrier!
Patou
[Shaking his head.] Chantecler, how do we know?
Chantecler
[Considering him.] Your appearance is in fact peculiar What actually is your breed?
Patou
I am a horrible mixture, issue of every passer-by! I can feel barking within me the voice of every blood. Retriever, mastiff, pointer, poodle, hound—my soul is a whole pack, sitting in circle, musing. Cock, I am all dogs, I have been every dog!
Chantecler
Then what a sum of goodness must be stored in you!
Patou
Brother, we are framed to understand each other. You sing to the sun and scratch up the earth. I when I wish to do myself a good and a pleasure—
Chantecler
You lie on the earth and sleep in the sun!
Patou
[With a pleased yap.] Aye!