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Chantecler

Page 3

by Edmond Rostand

house, the orchard and the fields, more than all else I am bound to

  protect your song. And I growl at the dangers I suspect lurking. Such is

  my humour.

  CHANTECLER

  Your humour? Your dogma, suspicion is! Call it your _dog_ma!

  PATOU

  You can stoop to a pun? From bad to worse! I'm enough of a psychologist

  to feel the evil spreading, and I've the scent of a rat-terrier.

  CHANTECLER

  But you are no rat-terrier!

  PATOU

  [_Shaking his head._] Chantecler, how do we know?

  CHANTECLER

  [_Considering him._] Your appearance is in fact peculiar What actually

  is your breed?

  PATOU

  I am a horrible mixture, issue of every passer-by! I can feel barking

  within me the voice of every blood. Retriever, mastiff, pointer, poodle,

  hound--my soul is a whole pack, sitting in circle, musing. Cock, I am

  all dogs, I have been every dog!

  CHANTECLER

  Then what a sum of goodness must be stored in you!

  PATOU

  Brother, we are framed to understand each other. You sing to the sun and

  scratch up the earth. I, when I wish to do myself a good and a

  pleasure--

  CHANTECLER

  You lie on the earth and sleep in the sun!

  PATOU

  [_With a pleased yap._] Aye!

  CHANTECLER

  We have ever had in common our love for those two things.

  PATOU

  I am so fond of the sun that I howl at the moon. And so fond of the

  earth that I dig great holes and shove my nose in it!

  CHANTECLER

  I know! The gardener's wife has her opinion of those holes.--But what

  are the dangers you discern? All lies quiet beneath the quiet sky.

  Nothing appears to be threatening my humble sunlit dominions.

  THE OLD HEN

  [_Lifting the basket-lid with her head._] The egg looks like marble

  until it gets smashed! [_The lid drops._]

  CHANTECLER

  [_To_ PATOU.] What dangers, friend?

  PATOU

  There are two. First, in yonder cage--

  CHANTECLER

  Well?

  PATOU

  That satirical whistling.

  CHANTECLER

  What about it?

  PATOU

  Pernicious.

  CHANTECLER

  In what way?

  PATOU

  In every way!

  CHANTECLER

  [_Ironical._] Bad as all that, is it? [_The_ PEACOCK'S _squall is heard

  in the distance: "Ee--yong!"_]

  PATOU

  And then that cry, the Peacock's!

  [_The_ PEACOCK, _further off: "Ee--yong!"_]

  PATOU

  More out of tune all by itself than a whole village singing society!

  CHANTECLER

  Come, what have they done to you, that whistler and that posturer?

  PATOU

  [_Grumbling._] They have done to me--that I know not what they may do to

  you! They have done to me--that among us simple, kindly folk they have

  introduced new fashions, the Blackbird of being funny, the Peacock of

  putting on airs! Fashions which the latter in his grotesque bad taste

  picked up parading on the marble terraces of the vulgar rich, and the

  former--Heaven knows where! along with his cynicism and his slang. Now

  the one, travelling salesman of blighting corrosive laughter, and the

  other, brainless ambassador of Fashion, their mission to kill among us

  love and labour, the first by persiflage, the second by display,--they

  have brought to us, even here in our peaceful sunny corner, the two

  pests, the saddest in the world, the jest which insists on being funny

  at any cost, and the cry which insists on being the latest scream! [_The

  _ BLACKBIRD _is heard tentatively whistling, "How sweet to fare

  afield"._] You, Cock, who had the sense to prefer the grain of true

  wheat to the pearl, how can you allow yourself to be taken in by that

  villainous Blackbird! A bird who practises a tune!

  CHANTECLER

  [_Indulgently._] Come, he whistles his tune like many another!

  PATOU

  [_Unwillingly agreeing, in a drawling growl._] Ye-e-es, but he never

  whistles it to the end!

  CHANTECLER

  [_Watching the_ BLACKBIRD _hopping about._] A light-hearted fellow!

  PATOU

  [_Same business._] Ye-e-es, but he lies heavy on our hearts. A bird who

  takes his exercise indoors!

  CHANTECLER

  You must own he is intelligent!

  PATOU

  [_In a longer, more hesitant growl._] Ye-e-e-es! But not so very! For

  his eye never brightens with wonder and admiration. He preserves before

  the flower--of whose stalk he sees more than of its chalice--the glance

  which deflowers, the tone which depreciates!

  CHANTECLER

  Taste, my dear fellow, he unmistakably has!

  PATOU

  Ye-e-e-es! But not much taste! To wear black is too easy a way of having

  taste! One should have the courage of colours on his wing.

  CHANTECLER

  You will admit at least that he has an original fancy. No denying that

  he is amusing.

  PATOU

  Ye-e-es--No! Why is it amusing to adopt a few stock phrases and make

  them do service at every turn? Why amusing to miscall, exaggerate, and

  vulgarise?

  CHANTECLER

  His mind has a diverting, unexpected turn--

  PATOU

  Ready but cheap! I cannot think it particularly brilliant to remark,

  with a knowing wink, at sight of an innocent cow at pasture, "The simple

  cow knows her way to the hay!" Nor do I regard it as evidence of notable

  mental gifts to answer the greeting of the inoffensive duck, "The quack

  shoots off his mouth!" No, the extravagances of that Blackbird, who

  makes me bristle, no more constitute wit than his slang achieves style!

  CHANTECLER

  He is not altogether to blame. He wears the modern garb. See him there

  in correct evening dress. He looks, in his neat black coat--

  PATOU

  Like a beastly little undertaker who, after burying Faith, hops with

  relief and glee!

  CHANTECLER

  There, there! You make him blacker than he is!

  PATOU

  I do believe a blackbird is just a misfit crow!

  CHANTECLER

  His diminutive size, however--

  PATOU

  [_Vigorously shaking his ears._] Oh, be not deceived by his size! Evil

  makes his models first on a tiny scale. The soul of a cutlass dwells in

  the pocket-knife; blackbird and crow are of the selfsame crape, and the

  striped wasp is a tiger in miniature!

  CHANTECLER

  [_Amused at_ PATOU'S _violence._] The blackbird in short is wicked,

  stupid, ugly--

  PATOU

  The chief thing about the Blackbird is--that you can't tell what he is!

  Is there thought in that head? feeling in that breast? Hear him!

  "Tew-tew-tew-tew tew--"

  CHANTECLER

  But what harm does he do?

  PATOU

  He tew-tew-tews! And nothing is so mortal to thought and sentiment as

  that same derisive tew-tewing, disingenuous and non-committal! Day by

  day, and that is why I roll my rs, I must witness this debasing of

  l
anguage and ideals. It's enough to produce rabies!

  CHANTECLER

  Come, Patou!--

  PATOU

  In their objectionable jargon, they have the ha-ha on all of us! I am no

  fastidious King Charles, but I dislike, I tell you, being referred to as

  His Whiskers!--Oh, to be gone, escape, follow the heels of some poor

  shepherd without a crust in his wallet, but at least, at evening

  drinking from the glassy pond, to have--oh, better than all

  marrow-bones!--the fresh illusion of lapping up the stars!

  CHANTECLER

  [_Surprised at_ PATOU'S _having lowered his voice to utter the last

  words._] Why do you drop your voice?

  PATOU

  You see?--If we speak of stars nowadays we must do it in a whisper! [_He

  lays his head on his paws in deep dejection._]

  CHANTECLER

  [_Comforting him._] Be not downcast!

  PATOU

  [_Lifting his head again._] No, it is too silly and too weak! I'll shout

  it if I please! [_He howls with the whole power of his lungs._]

  Stars!--[_Then in a tone of relief._] There, I feel better!

  CHICKENS

  [_Passing at the back, mocking._] Stars!--Ho! Stars for ours! Stars!

  [_They go off, fooling and giggling._]

  PATOU

  Hear them! Our pullets will be whistling soon like blackbirds!

  CHANTECLER

  [_Proudly strutting up and down._] What care I? I sing, and have on my

  side the Hens.

  PATOU

  Trust not to the hearts of Hens--or of crowds. You are too willing to

  take the price of your singing in lip-service.

  CHANTECLER

  But love--love is glory awarded in kisses!

  PATOU

  Ah! I, too, was young once, I had my wilding devil's beauty,--an

  inflammatory eye, an inflammable heart. Well, I was deceived. For a

  handsomer dog?--No, they deceived me for a miserable cur!--[_Roaring in

  sudden wrath._] For whom?--For whom, do you suppose?

  CHANTECLER

  [_Retreating._] You alarm me!

  PATOU

  For a low-down dachshund who trod on his own ears!

  THE BLACKBIRD

  [_Who has overheard_ PATOU'S _last words, sticking his head between the

  bars of his cage._] Still harping on the dachshund, is he? What's the

  odds, old chappie? You were the goat!--How does being the goat matter?

  PATOU

  But you up there, scoffing at everything, who are you, may one ask?

  BLACKBIRD

  I'm the pet of the poultry yard!

  PATOU

  Bad luck is what you'll bring them!

  BLACKBIRD

  A prophecy-sharp?--Say, wisteria, we are twisted up with laughter! [_He

  comes out of his cage and hops to the ground._]

  PATOU

  [_As he approaches_] Grrrrrrr--

  CHANTECLER

  Hush! He's a friend!

  PATOU

  A false one.

  CHANTECLER

  [_To_ BLACKBIRD.] Fine things we learn when the talk is of you!

  THE OLD HEN

  [_Her head protruding from the basket._] Strike rotten wood, and see the

  wood-lice scatter! [_The basket-lid drops._]

  PATOU

  [_To_ CHANTECLER.] He laughs at you behind your back!

  BLACKBIRD

  [_To_ PATOU.] Ha, retriever, you retrieve?

  PATOU

  When you pour forth your heart in your ardent cry, giving it over and

  over, he calls it the same old saw that your jag-toothed red crest

  stands for!

  CHANTECLER

  So that's what you say?

  BLACKBIRD

  [_Affecting simplicity._] You surely don't mind? How can it affect you?

  And a joke about you is always so sure of success!

  PATOU

  [_To the_ BLACKBIRD.] Point-blank, do you admire or despise the Cock?

  BLACKBIRD

  I make fun of him in spots, but admire him in lump!

  PATOU

  You always peck two kinds of seed.

  THE BLACKBIRD

  My cage has two seed-cups, you see.

  PATOU

  I am single-minded and downright!

  THE BLACKBIRD

  You--are an old poodle of the year 48! I am an up-to-date bird!

  PATOU

  [_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 laund
resses 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 HEN

  [_Drops her eyes, then with emotion._] He is Swiss!

  PATOU

  A bubble!

  THE GREY HEN

  He is a thinker. He takes his airing--

  CHANTECLER

  She loves a clock!

  THE GREY HEN

  --always takes his airing at the same hour, like Kant.

  CHANTECLER

  Like what?

  THE GREY HEN

  Like Kant.

  CHANTECLER

  Did one ever--! Out of my sight!

  THE BLACKBIRD

  Trot, Kant you?

  [THE GREY HEN _hurries off._]

  CHANTECLER

  Here's a pretty--Wherever did she learn that Kant--?

  PATOU

  At the Guinea-hen's.

  CHANTECLER

  That foolish old party of the crazy cries and the white-plastered beak?

  PATOU

  She has taken a day.

  CHANTECLER

  A day off, do you mean?

  PATOU

  No, a day at home.

  CHANTECLER

  A day at--Where does she receive?

  THE BLACKBIRD

  In a corner of the kitchen-garden.

  PATOU

  Under the auspices of that strawman with the unsavoury old top-hat.

  CHANTECLER

  The scarecrow?

  THE BLACKBIRD

  Yes, his being there makes the affair select.

  CHANTECLER

  [_Bewildered._] How is that?

  THE BLACKBIRD

  Don't you see? He scares off all the puny fowl--. Poor relations are not

  wanted at a function.

  CHANTECLER

  So the Guinea-hen has a day!

  PATOU

  [_Phlegmatically._] A bubble!

  CHANTECLER

  A balloon!

  THE BLACKBIRD

  [_Imitating the_ GUINEA-HEN.] Mondays, my dear--

  CHANTECLER

  And what do they do at that feather-brain's parties?

  PATOU

  Cluck and cackle. The Turkey-cock airs his social gifts, the Chick gets

  into society.

  BLACKBIRD

  [_Imitating the_ GUINEA-HEN.] From five to six--

  CHANTECLER

  Evening?

  PATOU

  No, morning.

  CHANTECLER

  What--?

  THE BLACKBIRD

  You see, she must take advantage of the time when the garden is

  deserted, and yet have it a five-o'clock tea. So she chose the hour when

  the old gardener is at his early potations.

  CHANTECLER

  What nonsense!

  THE BLACKBIRD

  Quite so.

  PATOU

  You needn't talk. You go to her teas.

 

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