THE PHEASANT-HEN
[Opening her wings.] Come away to the woods!

CHANTECLER
[Falling upon her breast.] I love you!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
To the woods, where the simple birds sing their sweet unconscious songs!

CHANTECLER
Let us go! [Both go toward the back. CHANTECLER turning.] But there
is one thing I wish to say—­

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[Trying to lead him away.] Come to the woods!

CHANTECLER —­to all the Guineahennery gathered beneath these arbors.  Let the garden—­the Bees agree with me, I fancy!—­let the garden work untroubled at changing its blossoms into fruit—­

BUZZING OF BEES
We agree—­ee—­ee!

CHANTECLER
Nothing good is ever accomplished in the midst of noise.  Noise prevents
the bough—­

BUZZING [Further off.] So say we—­e—­e! we—­e—­e!

CHANTECLER
—­from bringing its apple to perfection, prevents the grape—­

BUZZING
[Dying away among the foliage.] So say we—­e—­e!

CHANTECLER —­from ripening on the vine. [Going toward the back with the PHEASANT-HEN.] Let us go! [Turning and coming again angrily toward the front.] But I wish furthermore to say to these H—­[The PHEASANT-HEN lays her wing across his beak.]—­ens that those unnatural Cocks will lightly take themselves away, back to the gilded mangers of their sole affection, the moment they hear the cry of Chick-chick-chick-chick-chick! [Imitating a servant girl calling CHICKENS to feed.] For all those charlatans are stalking appetites, and nothing more!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[Trying to lead him off.] Come!  Come!

A HEN
She is eloping with him.

CHANTECLER
I am coming!  But—­[Coming forward again.] I must first say to this
Peacock, in the presence of that Addlepate—­[Indicating the
GUINEA-HEN.]

THE GUINEA-HEN
He insults me in my own house.  Sensational!

CHANTECLER False hero whom Fashion has taken for leader, you walk in such terror of appearing behindhand to the eyes of your own tail that your throat is blue with it!  But, urged forward, on and on, by every staring eye upon it, you will fall at last, breathless for good and all, and end in the false immortality bestowed, false artist, by the—­[Imitating the manner of the PEACOCK.] shall I say bird-stuffer?

THE GUINEA-HEN
[Mechanically.] Yes!

CHANTECLER
No.  Taxidermist,—­to use the word you would prefer.  That, my dear
Peacock, is what I wished to say.

THE BLACKBIRD
Bang!

CHANTECLER
[Turning toward him.] As for you—­

THE BLACKBIRD
Fire away!

CHANTECLER I will!  You became acquainted one grey morning with a city sparrow, did you not tell us so?  That was your ruin.  You have been possessed ever since with the desire to appear like one yourself.