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Rostand, Edmond, 1868-1918

"Chantecler Play in Four Acts"

_]
VOICES OF THE NIGHT-BIRDS
[_In the distance._] Strix!
THE BLACKBIRD
[_Looking after them among the branches, and later in the blue space
over the valley._] They are calling one another!
VOICE IN THE DISTANCE
Scops!
THE BLACKBIRD
[_Bending over the valley, where the dark wings are dwindling and
fading._] They wheel--waver--dip--
VOICES
[_Dying in the distance._] Owl of the Wall! Of the Belfry! Of the Yew!
THE BLACKBIRD
Gone! [_He looks about, gives a hop, and with an immediate return to
levity._] But it's supper-time.--Now for a bite of cold grasshopper!
[_The_ PHEASANT-HEN _suddenly flies over the brushwood tangle, dropping
beside him._] You!

SCENE SECOND
THE BLACKBIRD, THE PHEASANT-HEN, _later_ CHANTECLER

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Panting, tragically earnest._] I ran all the way.--You were
there.--Oh, I am half dead with terror!--Well you must have overheard
their dreadful secret! You, his friend!
THE BLACKBIRD
[_Cheerfully rummaging among the moss._] Or the thigh of a katydid will
do.
THE PHEASANT-HEN
I was watching from a distance. I crouched in a ditch--[_In an anguished
voice._] Well?
THE BLACKBIRD
[_In genuine surprise._] Well, what?
THE PHEASANT-HEN
Their conspiracy--
THE BLACKBIRD
[_Calmly._] It all went off very nicely.
THE PHEASANT-HEN
What do you mean?
THE BLACKBIRD
The shadow was a correct and appropriate blue, and the Owls said
perfectly characteristic things.


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