THE HORN [_Far away._] Honk! Honk! Honk! CHANTECLER [_Standing aside for them to pass._] You can safely go! THE GREY HEN [_From her hiding-place._] He has not seen me! THE TUFTED HEN You may think this is fun! Now everything we eat will taste of gasoline! SCENE THIRD 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? SCENE FOURTH THE SAME, PATOU. PATOU [_Barking inside his kennel._] I! I! I! CHANTECLER [_Retreating._] Is it you, Patou, good shaggy head starting out of the dark, with straws caught among your eyelashes? PATOU Which do not prevent my seeing what is plain as that hen-house rrrroof! CHANTECLER Cross? PATOU Grrrrrrr-- CHANTECLER When he rolls his r’s like that he is very cross indeed. PATOU It’s my devotion to you, Cock, makes me roll my r’s. Guardian of the house, the orchard and the fields, more than all else I am bound to protect your song. And I growl at the dangers I suspect lurking. Such is my humour. CHANTECLER Your humour? Your dogma, suspicion is! Call it your _dog_ma! PATOU You can stoop to a pun? From bad to worse! I’m enough of a psychologist to feel the evil spreading, and I’ve the scent of a rat-terrier. CHANTECLER But you are no rat-terrier! PATOU [_Shaking his head._] Chantecler, how do we know? CHANTECLER [_Considering him._] Your appearance is in fact peculiar What actually is your breed? PATOU I am a horrible mixture, issue of every passer-by! I can feel barking within me the voice of every blood. Retriever, mastiff, pointer, poodle, hound--my soul is a whole pack, sitting in circle, musing. Cock, I am all dogs, I have been every dog! CHANTECLER Then what a sum of goodness must be stored in you! PATOU Brother, we are framed to understand each other. You sing to the sun and scratch up the earth. I, when I wish to do myself a good and a pleasure-- CHANTECLER You lie on the earth and sleep in the sun!