But as I
have at different times succored, defended, protected, this one and
that, I might perhaps be called, in my own fashion, brave. You need not
take these mighty airs with me. I came here knowing that you would come.
That rose was dangled to afford you the opportunity for brutal
stupidity. You did not fail to nibble at its petals. Your name?
THE GAME COCK
White Pile. And yours?
CHANTECLER
Chantecler.
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Running desperately to the_ DOG.] Patou!
CHANTECLER
[_To_ PATOU, _who is growling between his teeth._] You, keep out of this!
PATOU
So I will, but it's rrrrrrrough!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_To_ CHANTECLER.] A Cock does not risk his life for a Rose!
CHANTECLER
A slur upon a flower is a slur upon the Sun!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Running to the_ BLACKBIRD.] Do something! This must be patched up--You
know you had promised me!
THE BLACKBIRD
Everything can be patched up, my dear, except the quarrels of a fellow's
friends!
THE GUINEA-HEN
[_Giving loud cries of despair._] Horrible! Oh, horrible A five-o'clock
tea at which guests kill each other! How dreadful--[_To her son._] that
the Tortoise should not have got here yet!
A VOICE
[_Crying._] Chantecler, ten against one!
THE GUINEA-HEN
[_Seating her company, assisting the_ HENS _to climb upon flower-pots,
cold-frames, pumpkins._] Quick! quick!
THE BLACKBIRD
Our charming hostess is in great feather, doing the honours of an affair
of honour.
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