THE PHEASANT-HEN
[Aside, looking at the horizon.] Over there—­

CHANTECLER
Verily, verily, I say unto you, Bul-bul to-night shall see the Bird of
Paradise!

THE PHEASANT-HEN [Aside.] The sky is turning white! [A whistle is heard in the distance.]

PATOU
[To CHANTECLER.] I will come back.  He is whistling me. [Disappears.]

THE PHEASANT-HEN [Restlessly dividing her attention between the horizon and the COCK.] How can I conceal from him—­[She moves tenderly toward CHANTECLER, opening her wings so as to hide the brightening East, and taking advantage of his grief.] Come and weep beneath my wing! [With a sob he lays his head beneath the comforting wing which is quickly clapped over him.  And the PHEASANT-HEN gently lulls him, murmuring.] You see that my wing is soft and comforting!  You see—­

CHANTECLER
[In a smothered voice.] Yes!

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.