The Turkey
[On his roost, solemnly.] Quandoque dormitat—
The Blackbird
[In his cage.] Dormittimus!
Chantecler
[Very firmly to the Pheasant-hen.] I will not go. Good night.
The Pheasant-hen
[Slightly offended.] Good night! [With a curt hop she enters the dog-kennel.]
Patou
[Falling asleep, stretched in front of his kennel.] Let us sleep until the sky grows pink—pink as—as—a puppy’s tummy—
The Guinea-hen
[Dropping off.] From five to six—
The Blackbird
[Likewise dropping off.] Tew—tew—[He nods.] tew—
Chantecler
[Still at the top of the ladder.] All sleeps.—[He spies a Chick stealing out.] Is that a chick I see?—[Springing after him and driving him in.] Let me catch you!—[In driving back the Chick, he finds himself near the kennel. He calls very softly.] Pheasant-hen!
The Pheasant-hen
[Lost among the straw, sleepily.] What do you want?
Chantecler
[After a moment’s hesitation.] Nothing.—Nothing! [He goes back to the top of his ladder.]