PATOU --some Hen may get you too to go! CHANTECLER Me? PATOU You! CHANTECLER Me?-- PATOU Led by the end of your beak. CHANTECLER [_In high wrath._] Me?-- PATOU For when a new Hen heaves in sight, you can’t help yourself, you know--you lose your balance-wheel-- THE BLACKBIRD You slowly circumambulate the fair one--[_He imitates the_ COCK _walking around a_ HEN.] “Yes, it’s me.--Here I am!” And you say, “Coa--” CHANTECLER I never knew a more idiotic bird! THE BLACKBIRD [_Continuing to mimic him._] You let your wing hang, sentimentally--your foot performs a sort of stately jig--[_A shot is heard._] Ha! I don’t like that! PATOU [_Starts up quivering, and scents the air._] Poaching Julius is at his tricks again! THE BLACKBIRD Dog, it seems to stimulate you agreeably! PATOU [_With ears up-pricked and shining eyes._] Yes! [_Suddenly, as if controlling himself, passionately._] No--! THE BLACKBIRD What affects you so? PATOU Oh, horrible, horrible! A poor little partridge perhaps-- THE BLACKBIRD Is that streaming eye, my friend, a result of age or rheumatism? PATOU Neither! But I have within me several dogs, and there is conflict amidst me. My hunter’s nostril twitches at a shot, but, directly, my house-dog’s memory raises before me a bleeding wing, the glazing eye of a doe, the pathos of a rabbit’s dying look--and I feel the heart of a Saint Bernard waking in my breast! [_Another shot._] CHANTECLER Again? SCENE FIFTH THE SAME, A GOLDEN PHEASANT, _later_ BRIFFAUT. A GOLDEN PHEASANT [_Flying suddenly over the wall, and dropping in the yard, mad with fright._] Hide me! CHANTECLER Heavens! PATOU A golden pheasant! GOLDEN PHEASANT Is this great Chantecler? THE BLACKBIRD All over the shop, we’re famous! GOLDEN PHEASANT [_Running hither and thither._] Save me, if you are he! CHANTECLER I am!--Rely on me! [_Another shot._] GOLDEN PHEASANT [_Jumping and casting himself on_ CHANTECLER.] Merciful powers! CHANTECLER But what a nervous bird it is--a golden pheasant! GOLDEN PHEASANT I have no breath left! I ran too hard!-[_Faints._] THE BLACKBIRD Puff!--Out goes his light! CHANTECLER [_Upholding the_ PHEASANT _with one wing._] How beautiful he is, with drooping neck and softly ruffled throat-feathers! [_He runs to the drinking-trough._] Water!--One almost hesitates to dim such beauty with a wetting--[_He splashes him vigorously with his other wing._] THE GOLDEN PHEASANT [_Coming to._] I am pursued! Oh, hide me! THE BLACKBIRD “And the villain still--” Here’s melodrama! [_To the_ PHEASANT.] How the dickens did he manage to miss you? THE PHEASANT Surprise!--The huntsman was looking for a little grey lark. Seeing me rise, he cried, “Thunder!” He saw but a flash of gold, and I a flash of fire.--But the dog is chasing me, a horrible dog--[_Seeing_ PATOU _he quickly adds._] I am speaking of a hunting-dog! [_To_ CHANTECLER.] Hide me!