Chantecler. Edmond Rostand

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СКАЧАТЬ [Gruffly.] Out of my way! lest I give your black coat red tails! [The BLACKBIRD nimbly gets out of the way, PATOU goes into his kennel grumbling.] I'll show him some up-to-date jaws!

      CHANTECLER Be quiet! It's his way. The truth is that if once he stood in the presence of beauty, this very Blackbird would applaud!

      PATOU Not with both wings! What can you expect of a bird who, with woodbine and juniper full in sight, prefers to go inside and peck at a musty biscuit?

      BLACKBIRD He never seems to suspect that the poacher is a blackguardly sort of brute!

      PATOU

       What I know is that the underbrush is all a delicate golden gloom—

      THE BLACKBIRD

       Yes, but leaden shot can cleave your delicate gold. The quail is such a

       canny bird, that he lies low lest he make his last appearance on toast.

       And so, in lack of quail—

      PATOU Does the great stag delight any the less in his green forest for turning over among the grass at evening some bit of a rusty cartridge?

      THE BLACKBIRD

       No, old chap—but the stag, you see, is just another kind of a hat-rack!

      PATOU

       Oh, but freedom, freedom, with violets looking on! Love!—

      THE BLACKBIRD Antediluvian pastimes! not nearly such good fun as my nice new wooden trapeze. Oh, my cage, let us sign a joyful three-six-nine years' lease! I live like a Duke, I have filtered drinking-water—[At PATOU'S significant start and growl, he springs aside, finishing.] You can sling mud upon me, I have a porcelain bath!

      CHANTECLER [Slightly out of patience.] Why not make a practice of talking simply and to the point?

      THE BLACKBIRD

       I like to make you sit up, and watch you blinking.

      PATOU

       Grrrrr—in the plain interest of public decency, I say it behooves us—

      THE BLACKBIRD

       Don't say behooves, say it's up to you, old chap!

      CHANTECLER

       What's all this juggling with words?

      THE BLACKBIRD The thing, Chantecler, quite the thing! I knew a city sparrow once, and it's the way they talk in fashionable circles.

      CHANTECLER I was well acquainted with a little red-breast, who lived beneath a city poet's eaves; he did not talk like you.

      THE BLACKBIRD I belong to my time. Every chap that's a bit of a swell nowadays must be a bit of a tough. It's smart, you know.

      PATOU

       I froth at the mouth! Smart—there's the Peacock's password!

      CHANTECLER

       Oh, the Peacock, by the way, what is he doing these days?

      THE BLACKBIRD

       Ogling with his tail-feathers!

      PATOU

       Baneful his example has been to many an humble heart.

      CHANTECLER

       What signs do you see of his influence?

      PATOU

       A thousand nothings.

      THE OLD HEN [Appearing.] Bubbles floating down the stream tell of laundresses up stream! [The lid drops.]

      CHANTECLER

       I am sure I have not seen the smallest bubble from which—

      PATOU [Indicating a GUINEA-PIG, who is passing.] See there, that Guinea-pig—

      CHANTECLER [Considering him.] What about him? He is just a yellow Guinea-pig!

      GUINEA-PIG [Snippily correcting.] Khaki, if you please!

      CHANTECLER [To PATOU.] Kha—?

      PATOU

       A bubble!—And yonder waddling duck—

      CHANTECLER [Looking at him.] He is going to take his bath—

      THE DUCK [Drily.] My tub!

      CHANTECLER

       His—?

      PATOU

       A bubble!

      [A long grating noise is heard within the house Crrrrrrr, then.]

      THE CLOCK

       Cuckoo!

      THE GREY HEN [Leaving her hiding-place and running towards the cat-hole.] His voice!—Now through the kitty's little door I finally shall see him! [She thrusts her head into the hole. The CUCKOO'S call is not repeated.] Oh, deary, deary me! I am too late! [Calling.] Bis! Encore!

      CHANTECLER [Turning around at the noise.] Eh?

      THE GREY HEN [Desperately, with her head in the cat-hole.] He has stopped!

      THE BLACKBIRD

       It was the half-hour.

      CHANTECLER [Close behind the GREY HEN, abruptly.] How does it happen, my love, that we are not in the fields?

      THE GREY HEN [Turning, scared.] Goodness gracious!

      CHANTECLER

       What are we doing, my love, in the cat-hole?

      THE GREY HEN [Upset.] I was just taking a peep—

      CHANTECLER

       To see whom?

      THE GREY HEN [More and more upset.] Oh—!

      CHANTECLER [Dramatically.] Who is it?

      THE GREY HEN

       Oh—

      CHANTECLER

       Confess!

      THE GREY HEN [In the voice of a woman caught in guilt.] The Cuckoo!

      CHANTECLER [Amazed.] You love him?—But wherefore?

      THE GREY СКАЧАТЬ