THE GREY HEN [_Leaving her hiding-place and running towards the cat-hole._] His voice!--Now through the kitty’s little door I finally shall see him! [_She thrusts her head into the hole. The_ CUCKOO’S _call is not repeated._] Oh, deary, deary me! I am too late! [_Calling._] Bis! Encore! CHANTECLER [_Turning around at the noise._] Eh? THE GREY HEN [_Desperately, with her head in the cat-hole._] He has stopped! THE BLACKBIRD It was the half-hour. CHANTECLER [_Close behind the_ GREY HEN, _abruptly._] How does it happen, my love, that we are not in the fields? THE GREY HEN [_Turning, scared._] Goodness gracious! CHANTECLER What are we doing, my love, in the cat-hole? THE GREY HEN [_Upset._] I was just taking a peep-- CHANTECLER To see whom? THE GREY HEN [_More and more upset._] Oh--! CHANTECLER [_Dramatically._] Who is it? THE GREY HEN Oh-- CHANTECLER Confess! THE GREY HEN [_In the voice of a woman caught in guilt._] The Cuckoo! CHANTECLER [_Amazed._] You love him?--But wherefore? THE GREY HEN [_Drops her eyes, then with emotion._] He is Swiss! PATOU A bubble! THE GREY HEN He is a thinker. He takes his airing-- CHANTECLER She loves a clock! THE GREY HEN --always takes his airing at the same hour, like Kant. CHANTECLER Like what? THE GREY HEN Like Kant. CHANTECLER Did one ever--! Out of my sight! THE BLACKBIRD Trot, Kant you? [THE GREY HEN _hurries off._] CHANTECLER Here’s a pretty--Wherever did she learn that Kant--? PATOU At the Guinea-hen’s. CHANTECLER That foolish old party of the crazy cries and the white-plastered beak? PATOU She has taken a day. CHANTECLER A day off, do you mean? PATOU No, a day at home. CHANTECLER A day at--Where does she receive? THE BLACKBIRD In a corner of the kitchen-garden. PATOU Under the auspices of that strawman with the unsavoury old top-hat. CHANTECLER The scarecrow? THE BLACKBIRD Yes, his being there makes the affair select. CHANTECLER [_Bewildered._] How is that? THE BLACKBIRD Don’t you see? He scares off all the puny fowl--. Poor relations are not wanted at a function. CHANTECLER So the Guinea-hen has a day! PATOU [_Phlegmatically._] A bubble! CHANTECLER A balloon! THE BLACKBIRD [_Imitating the_ GUINEA-HEN.] Mondays, my dear-- CHANTECLER And what do they do at that feather-brain’s parties? PATOU Cluck and cackle. The Turkey-cock airs his social gifts, the Chick gets into society. BLACKBIRD [_Imitating the_ GUINEA-HEN.] From five to six-- CHANTECLER Evening? PATOU No, morning. CHANTECLER What--? THE BLACKBIRD You see, she must take advantage of the time when the garden is deserted, and yet have it a five-o’clock tea. So she chose the hour when the old gardener is at his early potations. CHANTECLER What nonsense! THE BLACKBIRD Quite so. PATOU You needn’t talk. You go to her teas. CHANTECLER He goes--? THE BLACKBIRD Yes, I am one of their ornaments. PATOU And I am not so sure but that some day-- CHANTECLER What are you mumbling to your brass-studded collar?