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
language 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.
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