_] I
dedicate to you moreover those reawakened farmsteads. Man offers
trinkets, I--wreaths and plumes of smoke!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Looking off._] I can see your work growing,--growing in the distance.
CHANTECLER
[_Looking at her._] I can see it in your eyes!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
Over the meadows--
CHANTECLER
On your throat--[_In a smothered voice._] Oh, it is exquisite!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
What?
CHANTECLER
I am at once doing my duty, and making you more fair. I am gilding my
valley, while brightening your wing. [_Tearing himself from love, and
dashing toward the right._] But the shadow still fights all along the
line of retreat. There is much to be done over there! Cock-a-doodle-doo!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Looking up at the sky._] Oh, look!
CHANTECLER
[_Looking too, sadly._] How can I prevent it? The morning star is fading
out!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_In a tone of regret for the little bright spark which the growing
light must necessarily quench._] It is fading out--
CHANTECLER
Alas!--But shall we therefore despond? [_And tearing himself from
melancholy, he springs toward the left._] There is still much to do over
here. Cock-a--[_At this point the crowing of other_ COCKS _ascends from
the valley._ CHANTECLER _listens, then softly._] Hark! Do you hear
them now?
THE PHEASANT-HEN
Who dare--?
CHANTECLER
The other Cocks.
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Bending above the plain.
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