CHANTECLER
[Examining it.] A dangerous contrivance.

THE PHEASANT-HEN
Forbidden by the game-laws of 44.

CHANTECLER
[Laughing.] Do you know that?

THE PHEASANT-HEN
You seem to forget that the object of your affections comes under the
head of game.

CHANTECLER
[With a touch of sadness.] It is true that we are of different kinds.

THE PHEASANT-HEN [Returning to his side with a hop.] I want you to love me more than her.  Say it’s me you love most.  Say it’s me!

THE WOODPECKER
[Reappearing.] I!

CHANTECLER
[Looking up.] Not in a love-scene.

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[To the WOODPECKER.] See here,—­you!  Be so kind another time as to knock!

WOODPECKER
[Disappearing.] Certainly.  Certainly.

THE PHEASANT-HEN [To CHANTECLER.] He has a bad habit of thrusting his bill between the bark and the tree, but he is a rare scholar, exceptionally well informed—­

CHANTECLER
[Absent-mindedly.] On what subjects?

THE PHEASANT-HEN
The language of birds.

CHANTECLER
Indeed?

THE PHEASANT-HEN For, you know, the birds when they say their prayers speak the common language, but when they chat together in private they use a twittering dialect, wholly onomatopoetic.

CHANTECLER
They talk Japanese. [The WOODPECKER knocks three times with his bill
on the tree:  Rat-tat-tat!] Come in!

THE WOODPECKER
[Appearing, indignant.] Japanese, did you say?

CHANTECLER
Yes.  Some of them say, Tio!  Tio! and others say Tzoui!  Tzoui!

THE WOODPECKER
Birds have talked Greek ever since Aristophanes!

CHANTECLER
[Rushing to the PHEASANT-HEN.] Oh, for the love of Greek! [They bill.]

THE WOODPECKER
Know, profane youth, that the Black-chat’s cry Ouis-ouis-tra-tra, is a
corruption of the word Lysistrata! [Disappears.]

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[To CHANTECLER.] Will you never love anyone but me?

[THE WOODPECKER’S knock is heard:  Rat-tat-tat.]

CHANTECLER
Come in!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[To CHANTECLER.] Do you promise?

THE WOODPECKER [Appears, soberly nodding his red cap.] Tiri-para! sings the small sedge-warbler to the reeds.  Incontrovertibly from the Greek. Para, along, and the word water is understood. [Disappears.]

CHANTECLER
He has Greek on the brain!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[Reverting to her idea.] Am I the whole, whole world to you?

CHANTECLER
Of course you are, only—­

THE PHEASANT-HEN
In my green-sleeved Oriental robe, I look to you—­how do I look?

CHANTECLER
Like a living commandment ever to worship that which comes from the East.