Chantecler

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5. Act I Scene 3



CHANTECLER, the BLACKBIRD in his cage, the CAT still asleep on the wall, the GREY HEN behind the OLD HEN'S basket.

CHANTECLER [To himself, after a pause.] No, I will not trust a frivolous soul with such a weighty secret. Let me try rather to cast off the burden of it myself--forget and [Shaking his feathers.] just rejoice in being a rooster! [He struts up and down.] I am beautiful. I am proud. I walk--then I stand still. I give a skip or two, I tread a measure.--I shock the cart sometimes by my boldness with the fair, so that it raises scandalised shafts in horror to the sky!--Hang care!--A barleycorn--Eat and be merry.--The gear upon my head and under my eye is a far more gorgeous red, when I puff out my chest and strut, than any robin's waistcoat or finch's tie.--A fine day. All is well. I curvet--I blow my horn. Conscious of having done my duty, I may quite properly assume the swagger of a musketeer, and the calm commanding bearing of a cardinal. I can--

A VOICE [Loud and gruff.] Beware, Chantecler!

CHANTECLER What silly beast is bidding me beware?