8. Act I Scene 6
CHANTECLER, THE BLACKBIRD, PATOU, THE PHEASANT-HEN
CHANTECLER [
After a moment, to the BLACKBIRD
who from his cage, which he has returned, can see off over the wall.] Is he gone?
THE BLACKBIRD He is nearly out of sight!
CHANTECLER [
Going toward PATOU'S
kennel.] Madam, come forth!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [
Appearing at the threshold of the kennel.] Well?--A rebellious, self-freed slave I am--even as that dog was saying! But of great lineage, and proud as I am free--A pheasant of the woods!
THE BLACKBIRD Whew! We hate ourself, don't we!
THE PHEASANT-HEN In the forest where I live there comes a-poaching--
CHANTECLER That madman who would have given to vile lead a jewel for setting!
THE PHEASANT-HEN Beneath foliage--not so thick but a sunbeam may glide in!--I make my home. I am descended, however, from elsewhere. From whence? From Persia? China? None can tell! But of one thing we may be certain: that I was meant to shimmer in the blue among the fragrant gum-trees of the East, and not to be chased through brambles by a hound!--Am I the ancient Phoenix? or the sacred Chinese hen? Whence was I brought to this land? And how brought? And by whom? History is not explicit on the point, and leaves us a splendid choice. Wherefore I choose to have been born in Colchis, from whence I came on Jason's fist. I am all gold. Perhaps I was the Fleece!
PATOU You?
THE PHEASANT-HEN The Pheasant!
PATOU [
Politely correcting her.] Pheasant-hen.
THE PHEASANT-HEN I refer to my race, for which I stand, by token of my crimson shield. Yes, my ancient fate of being a dead leaf beside a ruby, having appeared to me one day too distinctly dull a lot, I stole his dazzling plumage from the male. A good thing, too, for it becomes me so much better! The golden tippet, as I wear it, curves and shimmers. The emerald epaulette acquires a dainty grace. I have made of a mere uniform a miracle of style!
CHANTECLER She is distractingly lovely, so much is certain!
PATOU He is never going to fall in love with a woman dressed as a man!
THE BLACKBIRD [
Who has again hopped down from his cage.] I must go and tell the Guinea-hen that a golden bird has blown into town. She'll have a fit! She will invite her! [
Off.]
CHANTECLER So you come to us from the East, like the Dawn?
THE PHEASANT-HEN My life has the picturesque disorder of a poem. If I came from the East, it was by way of Egypt.
PATOU [
Aside, heart-broken.] A gypsy, on top of the rest!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [
To CHANTECLER,
tossing and twisting her head so that the colours ripple at her throat.] Have you noticed these two shades? They are our own especial colours--the Dawn's and mine! Princess of the underbrush, queen of the glade, I am pleased to wear the yellow locks of an adventuress. Dreamy and homesick for my unknown home, I choose my palaces among the rustling flags and withered irises that fringe the pool. I dote upon the forest, and when it smells in autumn of dead leaves and decaying wood--
PATOU [
In consternation.] She is mad!
THE PHEASANT-HEN Wild as a tree-bough in a southerly gale, I tremble, flutter, spend myself in motion, till a vast languor overtakes me--
CHANTECLER [
Who for a minute or so has been letting his wing hang, now begins slowly circling about the PHEASANT-HEN,
in the manner of the BLACKBIRD
aping him, with a very gentle, throaty.] Coa--[
The PHEASANT-HEN
looks at him. Believing himself encouraged, he takes up again louder, while circling about her.] Coa--
THE PHEASANT-HEN My dear sir, I prefer to tell you at once that if it is for my benefit you are doing that--
CHANTECLER [
Stopping short.] What?
THE PHEASANT-HEN The eye--the peculiar gait--the drooping wing--the "Coa--"
CHANTECLER But I--
THE PHEASANT-HEN You do it all very nicely, I admit; only, it has not the very slightest effect upon me!
CHANTECLER [
Slightly abashed.] Madam--
THE PHEASANT-HEN Oh, I understand, of course. We are the illustrious Cock! Not a Hen in the world but preens her feathers in the hope--the very touching hope, certainly--of offering us a moment's distraction, some day, between two songs. We are so sure of ourself that we never hesitate, not even when the lady is a visitor, and not quite the ordinary short-kirtled Hen whom one can engage without further ceremony by such advances--
CHANTECLER But--
THE PHEASANT-HEN I do not bestow my affections quite so lightly. For my taste, anyhow, you are altogether too frankly Cock of the Walk!
CHANTECLER Too--?
THE PHEASANT-HEN Spoiled! The only Cock to my fancy would be a plain inglorious Cock to whom I should be all in all.
CHANTECLER But--
THE PHEASANT-HEN Love a celebrated Cock? I am not such a very woman!
CHANTECLER But--well--still--We might, however, Madam, take a little stroll together!
THE PHEASANT-HEN Yes, like two friends.
CHANTECLER Two friends.
THE PHEASANT-HEN Two chickens.
CHANTECLER Very old!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [
Quickly.] No, no--not old! Very ugly!
CHANTECLER [
Quicker still.] Oh, no, not ugly! [
Coming nearer to her.] Will you take a turn in the yard?--Accept my wing!
THE PHEASANT-HEN You shall show me the sights.
CHANTECLER [
Stopping before the CHICKENS'
drinking-trough.]This, of course, is hideous. It is a model drinking-trough on the siphon principle, made of galvanised iron. But everything excepting that is charming, noble, time and weather worn, from the hen-house roof to the stable door--
THE BLACKBIRD [
Returning.] The Guinea-hen is having a fit!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [
To CHANTECLER,
looking about her.] And so you live here untroubled, and have nothing to fear?
CHANTECLER Nothing whatever. Because the owner is a vegetarian An amazing man, a lover of animals. He calls them by names borrowed from the poets. The donkey there is Midas; the heifer, Io.
THE BLACKBIRD The showman's on the job!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [
Indicating the BLACKBIRD.] And that?
CHANTECLER Our humorist.
THE PHEASANT-HEN What does he do?
CHANTECLER Oh, he keeps busy!
THE PHEASANT-HEN Doing what?
CHANTECLER Trying never to appear a fool, and that's hard work.
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?
CHANTECLER [
Dryly.] Yes, Madam.
THE PHEASANT-HEN I suppose it would be useless to insist--
CHANTECLER [
Climbing on the wall at the back.] And from here you can see the remainder of the estate, to the edge of the kitchen-garden, where they ply at evening a serpent ending like a sprinkling can.
THE PHEASANT-HEN What?--This is all?
CHANTECLER This is all.
THE PHEASANT-HEN And do you imagine the world ends at your vegetable-patch?
CHANTECLER No.
THE PHEASANT-HEN Do you never, as you watch, far overhead, the wedge of the south-flying birds, dream of vaster horizons?
CHANTECLER No.
PHEASANT-HEN But all these things about you are dreary and poor and flat!
CHANTECLER And I can never become used to the richness and wonder of these things!
THE PHEASANT-HEN It is always the same, you must agree!
CHANTECLER Nothing is ever the same,--nothing,--ever,--under the sun! And that because of the sun!--For
She changes everything!
THE PHEASANT-HEN She--Who?
CHANTECLER Light, the universal goddess! That geranium planted by the farmer's wife is never twice the same red! And that old wooden shoe, spurting straw, what a sight, what a beautiful sight! And the wooden comb hanging among the farmer's smocks, with the green hair of the sward caught in its teeth! The pitchfork, stood in the corner, like a misbehaving child, dozing as he stands and dreaming of the hay-fields! And the bowl and skittles there,--the trim-waisted skittles, shapely maids, whose orderly quadrilles Patou in his gambols clumsily upsets! The great worm-eaten bowl whose curved expanse some ant is always crossing, travelling with no less pride than famed explorers,--around her ball in 80 seconds!--Nothing, I tell you, is two instants quite the same!--And I, sweet lady, have been so susceptible ever, that a garden-rake in a corner, a flower in a pot, cast me long since into a helpless ecstasy, and that from gazing at a morning-glory I fell into the startled admiration which has made my eye so round!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [
Thoughtfully.] One feels that you have a soul.--A soul then may find wherewithal to grow, so far from life and its drama, shut in by a farmyard wall with a cat asleep on it?
CHANTECLER With power to see, capacity to suffer, one may come Ito understand all things. In an insect's death are hinted all disasters. Through a knot-hole can be seen the sky and marching stars!
THE OLD HEN [
Appearing.] None knows the heavens like the water in the well!
CHANTECLER [
Presenting her to the PHEASANT-HEN before the basket-lid drops.] My foster-mother!
THE PHEASANT-HEN [
Politely approaching.] Delighted!
THE OLD HEN [
Slyly winking at her.] He's a fine Cock!
THE PHEASANT-HEN He is a Cock, moreover, for whom that fact is not the only thing in the world!
CHANTECLER [
Who has gone toward PATOU.] There, my dear boy, is a Hen with whom one can have a bit of solid conversation.