Chantecler
But love—love is glory awarded in kisses!
Patou
Ah! I too, was young once, I had my wilding devil’s beauty,—an inflammatory eye, an inflammable heart. Well, I was deceived. For a handsomer dog?—No, they deceived me for a miserable cur!—[Roaring in sudden wrath.] For whom?—For whom, do you suppose?
Chantecler
[Retreating.] You alarm me!
Patou
For a low-down dachshund who trod on his own ears!
The Blackbird
[Who has overheard Patou’s last words, sticking his head between the bars of his cage.] Still harping on the dachshund, is he? What’s the odds, old chappie? You were the goat!—How does being the goat matter?
Patou
But you up there, scoffing at everything, who are you, may one ask?
Blackbird
I m the pet of the poultry yard!
Patou
Bad luck is what you’ll bring them!
Blackbird
A prophecy-sharp?—Say, wisteria, we are twisted up with laughter! [He comes out of his cage and hops to the ground.]
Patou
[As he approaches] Grrrrrrr—