The Pheasant-hen
Possibly—but most unattractive! [They move towards the back.]
The Blackbird
[With a glance at the Pheasant-hen’s scarlet breast.] Size up the highfalutin’ dame!—Get on to the waistcoat will you?
Chantecler
[Continuing the round.] The hay-cock. The old wall. The wall, when I sing, is alive with lizards, the hay-cock bends to listen. I sing on the spot where you see the earth scratched up, and when I have sung, I drink in the bowl over there.
Pheasant-hen
Your song then is a matter of importance?
Chantecler
[Seriously.] The greatest.
The Pheasant-hen
Why?
Chantecler
That is my secret.
The Pheasant-hen
If I should ask you to tell me?
Chantecler
[Turning the conversation, and showing a pile of brushwood tied in bundles.] My friends, the fagots.
The Pheasant-hen
Stolen from my forest!—So what they say is true?—you have a secret?