THE WHITE PILE
[_Amazed at being smartly attacked._] Whence has he drawn new strength?
CHANTECLER
I am thrice stronger now than you. Black excites me, you see, as red
excites the bull, and thrice I have stared at night in the form of a
bird's shadow!
THE WHITE PILE
[_Driven to bay, against the hedge, prepares to use his razors._]
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Screaming._] Look out! He has two sharp razors at his heels, the beast!
CHANTECLER
I knew it!
THE CAT
[_From his tree, to the_ GAME COCK.] Use your knives!
PATOU
[_Ready to spring from his wheelbarrow._] If he uses those, I'll
strangle him, that's all!
THE CROWD
Oh!
PATOU
I will! Howl you never so loud!
THE WHITE PILE
[_Feeling himself lost._] No help for it!
THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_Closely watching him._] He is getting one of his razors ready!
THE WHITE PILE
[_Striking with his sharp spur._] Take that! Die! [_He utters a terrible
cry, while_ CHANTECLER, _avoiding the blow, springs aside._] Ah! [_He
drops to the ground. Cry of amazement._]
SEVERAL VOICES
What is it?
THE BLACKBIRD
[_Who has hopped up to the fallen_ COCK _and examined him._] Nothing!
Merely he has dexterously slashed his left claw with his right!
THE CROWD
[_Following and hooting the_ WHITE PILE, _who, having picked himself up,
limps off._] Hoo! Hoo!
PATOU _and the_ PHEASANT-HEN
[_Laughing and weeping and talking, all in one, beside_ CHANTECLER,
_who stands motionless, utterly spent, with closed eyes.
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