BRIFFAUT [_Starting upon another story._] Fancy such an instance as the following-- THE BLACKBIRD Holy Smoke! Here comes another!--Oh, I say, hire a hall! [_A distant whistle is heard._] CHANTECLER [_Quickly._] You are whistled for! BRIFFAUT The deuce! Good evening! [_Disappears._] PATOU Good evening. CHANTECLER Gone, at last! BLACKBIRD [_Calling._] Briffaut! CHANTECLER Great Glory, what are you doing? THE BLACKBIRD [_Calling._] I have something to tell you! BRIFFAUT [_His head reappears above the wall._] Well--? THE BLACKBIRD Look out, Briffaut! CHANTECLER [_Low to the_ BLACKBIRD.] Do you make sport of our fears? THE BLACKBIRD You are losing something! BRIFFAUT What? THE BLACKBIRD Time! BRIFFAUT [_Disappearing with a snort of fury._] Wow! SCENE SIXTH 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!