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!