THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Gently rocks him, darting a glance now and then over her shoulder to see how the dawn is progressing._] You see that a wing is an outspread heart--[_Aside._] Day is breaking! [_To_ CHANTECLER.] You see that--[_Aside._] The sky has paled! [_To_ CHANTECLER.]--that a wing is--[_Aside._] The tree is steeped in rosy light! [_To_ CHANTECLER.]--partly a shield, and partly a cradle, partly a cloak and a place of rest,--that a wing is a kiss which enfolds and covers you over. You see that--[_With a backward leap, suddenly withdrawing her wings._] the Day can break perfectly well without you! CHANTECLER [_With the greatest cry of anguish possible to created being._] Ah! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Continuing inexorably._] That the mosses in a moment will be scarlet! CHANTECLER [_Running toward the moss._] Ah, no! No! Not without me! [_The moss flushes red._] Ungrateful! THE PHEASANT-HEN The horizon-- CHANTECLER [_Imploringly, to the horizon._] No! THE PHEASANT-HEN --is glowing gold! CHANTECLER [_Staggering._] Treachery! THE PHEASANT-HEN One may be all in all to another heart, you see, one can be nothing to the sky! CHANTECLER [_Swooning._] It is true! PATOU [_Returning, cheery and cordial._] Here I am! I have come to tell you that they are all mad over there, at the topsy-turvy farm, to have back the Cock who orders the return of Day! CHANTECLER They believe that now I have ceased to believe it! PATOU [_Stopping short, amazed._] What do you mean? THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Bitterly pressing close to_ CHANTECLER.] You see that a heart pressing against your own is better than a sky which does not in the very least need you. CHANTECLER Yes! THE PHEASANT-HEN That darkness after all may be as sweet as light if there are two close-clasped in the shade. CHANTECLER [_Wildly._] Yes! Yes! [_But suddenly leaving her side he raises his head and in a ringing voice._] Cock-a-doodle-doo! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Taken aback._] Why are you crowing? CHANTECLER As a warning to myself,--for thrice have I denied the thing I love! THE PHEASANT-HEN And what is that? CHANTECLER My life’s work! [_To_ PATOU.] Up and about! Come, let us go! THE PHEASANT-HEN What are you going to do? CHANTECLER Follow my calling. THE PHEASANT-HEN But what night is there for you to rout? CHANTECLER The night of the eyelid! THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Pointing toward the growing glory of the dawn._] Very well, you will rouse sleepers-- CHANTECLER And Saint Peter! THE PHEASANT-HEN But can you not see that Day has risen without the benefit of your crowing? CHANTECLER I am more sure of my destiny than of the daylight before my eyes. THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Pointing at the_ NIGHTINGALE _who has already half disappeared into the earth._] Your faith can no more return to life than can that dead bird. [_From the tree above their heads suddenly rings forth the heart-stirring, limpid, characteristic note: Tio! Tio!_] THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Struck with amazement._] Is it another singing?