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Rostand, Edmond, 1868-1918

"Chantecler Play in Four Acts"

_] And so--?
THE BLACKBIRD
No, trembling Gypsy, there's not enough in this great plot to choke a
flea withal!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
Truly? I have been so horribly afraid--
THE BLACKBIRD
Fear, I warn you, lovely Zingara, leads to dyspepsia! It's because he
keeps his eye closed and buried in the sand that the ostrich has
preserved his famous digestion!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
So it might seem.
THE BLACKBIRD
We have in these latter days bowed Tragedy respectfully out of the
house!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
But had we not best warn Chantecler, so that--
THE BLACKBIRD
He would go instantly and challenge them. And then such a whetting of
steel!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
You are right. So he would.
THE BLACKBIRD
On your principle, mad Gitana, an oak-gall could be made into a world.
THE PHEASANT-HEN
You have much good sense.
THE BLACKBIRD
Daughter of the forest, I have.
CHANTECLER'S VOICE
[_Outside._] Coa--
THE PHEASANT-HEN
Chantecler!
CHANTECLER
[_Approaching on the left, between the hollies, calls from afar._] Who
is there?
THE PHEASANT-HEN
It is I!
CHANTECLER
[_Still from a distance._] Alone?
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_With a significant look at the_ BLACKBIRD.] Yes, alone.
THE BLACKBIRD
[_Understanding._] I vanish--I am off to supper.
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Low to the_ BLACKBIRD.] And so--?
THE BLACKBIRD
[_Motioning her to be silent._] Keep it dark! [_As he is leaving, by the
right, in the manner of one giving an order to a waiter.


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