[_The shade has deepened and taken a bluer tinge. The spiderweb, touched by a moonbeam, looks as if sifting silver dust. The_ PHEASANT-HEN _comes from the tree and follows_ CHANTECLER _with little short feminine steps._] SCENE SECOND CHANTECLER, _the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _from time to time the_ RABBITS, _now and then the_ WOODPECKER. CHANTECLER How softly sleeps the moonlight on the ferns! Now is the time-- A LITTLE QUAVERING VOICE Spider at night, Bodeth delight! THE PHEASANT-HEN Thanks, kind Spider! CHANTECLER Now is the time-- THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Close behind him._] Now is the time to kiss me. CHANTECLER All those Rabbits looking on make it a trifle-- THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Suddenly flaps her wings; the frightened_ RABBITS _start, on all sides white tails disappear into rabbit-holes. The_ PHEASANT-HEN _coming back to_ CHANTECLER.] There! [_They bill._] Do you love my forest? CHANTECLER I love it, for no sooner had I crossed its verdant border than I got back my song. Let us go to roost. I must sing very early to-morrow. THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Imperiously._] But one song only! CHANTECLER Yes. THE PHEASANT-HEN For a month I have only allowed you one song. CHANTECLER [_Resignedly._] Yes. THE PHEASANT-HEN And has the Sun not risen just the same? CHANTECLER [_In a tone of unwilling admission._] The Sun has risen. THE PHEASANT-HEN You see that one can have the Dawn at a smaller cost. Is the sky any less red for your only crowing once? CHANTECLER No. THE PHEASANT-HEN Well then? [_Offering her bill._] A kiss! [_Finding his kiss absent-minded._] You are thinking of something else. Please attend! [_Reverting to her idea._] Why should you wear yourself out? You were simply squandering the precious copper of your voice. Daylight is all very well, but one must live! Oh! the male creature! If we were not there, with what sad frequency he would be fooled! CHANTECLER [_With conviction._] Yes, but you are there, you see. THE PHEASANT-HEN It is barbarous anyhow to keep up a perpetual cockaduddling when I am trying to sleep. CHANTECLER [_Gently correcting her._] Doodling, dearest. THE PHEASANT-HEN Duddling is correct. CHANTECLER Doodling. THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Raising her head toward the top of the tree and calling._] Mr. Woodpecker! [_To_ CHANTECLER.] We will ask the learned gentleman in the green coat. [_To the_ WOODPECKER _the upper half of whose figure appears at a round hole high up in the tree trunk; his coat is green, his waistcoat buff, and he wears a red skull-cap._] Do you say cockaduddling or cockadoodling? THE WOODPECKER [_Bending a long professorial bill._] Both. CHANTECLER _and the_ PHEASANT-HEN [_Turning to each other, triumphantly._] Ah! THE WOODPECKER Duddling is more tender, doodling more poetic. [_He disappears._] CHANTECLER It is for you I cockaduddle! THE PHEASANT-HEN Yes, but you cockadoodle for the Dawn! CHANTECLER [_Going toward her._] I do believe you are jealous!