THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Bending over the valley._] There emerges from the shadow, gradually, a world of your creation-- CHANTECLER Sacred things you are witnessing--To sacred things I am initiating you!--Define your outlines, distant hills! Pheasant-hen, do you love me? THE PHEASANT-HEN We shall always love to be in the secret of the Makers of Dawn! CHANTECLER You help me to sing better. Come closer. Collaborate. THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Springing to his side._] I love you! CHANTECLER Every word you whisper in my ear shall be translated into sunshine for all the world to see! THE PHEASANT-HEN I love you! CHANTECLER Say it again, and I will gild that mountain suddenly! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Wildly._] I love you!--Let me see you gild it! CHANTECLER [_In his greatest, most splendid manner._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! [_The mountain turns golden._] THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Pointing to the lower ranges, still purple._] But the hills? CHANTECLER Each in its turn. To the highest peaks belong the earliest rays! Cock-a-doodle-doo! THE PHEASANT-HEN Ah!--across yonder drowsing slope a stealing gleam-- CHANTECLER [_Joyously._] I dedicate it to you! THE PHEASANT-HEN The distant villages are coming into view. CHANTECLER Cock-a--[_His voice breaks._] THE PHEASANT-HEN You are weary! CHANTECLER [_Stiffening himself._] I refuse to be! [_Wildly._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! THE PHEASANT-HEN Exhausted! CHANTECLER Do you see those tatters of mist still clinging? Cock-a-doodle-doo! THE PHEASANT-HEN You will kill yourself! CHANTECLER I only live, dear, when I am killing myself giving great splendid cries! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Pressing close to his side._] I am proud of you! CHANTECLER [_With emotion._] Your head bows-- THE PHEASANT-HEN I listen to the Day arising in your breast! I delight to hear first in your lungs what by-and-by will be purple and gold on the mountain sides! CHANTECLER [_While the little distant houses begin to smoke in the dawn._] I dedicate to you moreover those reawakened farmsteads. Man offers trinkets, I--wreaths and plumes of smoke! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Looking off._] I can see your work growing,--growing in the distance. CHANTECLER [_Looking at her._] I can see it in your eyes! THE PHEASANT-HEN Over the meadows-- CHANTECLER On your throat--[_In a smothered voice._] Oh, it is exquisite! THE PHEASANT-HEN What? CHANTECLER I am at once doing my duty, and making you more fair. I am gilding my valley, while brightening your wing. [_Tearing himself from love, and dashing toward the right._] But the shadow still fights all along the line of retreat. There is much to be done over there! Cock-a-doodle-doo! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Looking up at the sky._] Oh, look! CHANTECLER [_Looking too, sadly._] How can I prevent it? The morning star is fading out! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_In a tone of regret for the little bright spark which the growing light must necessarily quench._] It is fading out--