_] Oh!--
THE GUINEA-HEN
[_Tickled._] Oh, you naughty bird!--He is quite the most improper of our
gallinacea!
CHANTECLER
[_Louder._] Enough!
THE COCHIN-CHINA COCK
[_Stops, and with mocking surprise._] Is it the Gallic Cock objecting?
CHANTECLER
I am not Gallic if you give the word a base or ridiculous meaning. By
Jove! Every Hen here knows whether my trumpet blast belongs to a
soprano! But your perverse attempts to wring blushes from little
baggages in convenient corners outrage my love of Love! It is true that
I care more to retain love's dream than these Cochin-Chinese, who,
courting a giggle, use refinement in coarseness, research in vulgarity;
true that my blood has swifter flow in a less ponderous body, and that I
am not a feathered pig,--but a Cock!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
Come, come away to the woods,--I love you!
CHANTECLER
[_Looking around him._] Oh, to see a real being appear! Someone simple,
someone--
THE MAGPIE
[_Announcing._] Two Pigeons!
CHANTECLER
[_Drawing a breath of relief._] At last,--pigeons! [_He runs eagerly to
the entrance._]
THE PIGEONS
[_Entering with a series of somersaults._] Hop!
CHANTECLER
[_Falling back in amazement._] What is this?
THE PIGEONS
[_Introducing themselves between two springs._] The Tumblers! English
Clowns!
CHANTECLER
Where am I?
THE GUINEA-HEN
[_Running after the_ TUMBLERS _who disappear among the throng of
guests.
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