Chantecler Part 39

A DUCK The Sun gets up to hear him!

CHANTECLER [_Avoiding the blows which the_ WHITE PILE _is beginning to aim at him._] Yes, it is I who give you back the Day!

A CHICK And a jolly fine day it is!

CHANTECLER [_While parrying and attacking._] The crowing of other c.o.c.ks, able neither to make nor mar, is no better nor worse than sonorous sneezing!

Mine--[_He is wounded._]

A VOICE Biff! In the neck!

CHANTECLER --mine makes--[_He is again wounded._]

THE TURKEY Insufferable self-sufficiency!

CHANTECLER --the light--[_Again he is struck._]

A VOICE Biff! On the neb!

CHANTECLER --the light appear!

A VOICE Biff! In the eye!

CHANTECLER [_Blinded with blood._] Yes, the light!

A VOICE [_Sneering._] Better have let sleeping darkness lie!

CHANTECLER [_Automatically repeating beneath his adversary's blows._] It is I who make the dawn appear!

PATOU [_Barking._] Aye! Aye! Aye!

THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Sobbing._] Stand up to him, darling! Oh, hit back! Hit back!

A CHICK Fellows, a nickname for the dawn!

ALL Yes! Yes!

[_The_ WHITE PILE _hurls himself upon_ CHANTECLER.]

THE PHEASANT-HEN Oh, cruel!

THE BLACKBIRD Chantecler's Light o' Love!

A VOICE A nickname for the c.o.c.k!

ALL Yes! Yes!

THE BLACKBIRD Grand Master of Illuminations!

ANOTHER VOICE Purveyor of Sunny Beams!

CHANTECLER [_Defending himself foot to foot._] Thanks! Another quip, for I can still fight with my feet!

A VOICE The Alarm-c.o.c.k!

CHANTECLER [_Who seems upheld by their insults._] Another pun! And I who know no more of fighting than can be learned on a peaceful farm--

A VOICE Thresh out his hayseed!

CHANTECLER Thanks! I--[_His torn feathers fly around him._]

CRY OF JOY See his fur fly!

CHANTECLER I feel--Another pleasantry!

A VOICE Lay on, Macfluff!

CHANTECLER Thanks! I feel that the more I am mocked, insulted, flouted, and denied--

AN a.s.s [_Stretching his neck over the hedge._] Hee-haw!

CHANTECLER Thanks!--the better I shall fight!

THE WHITE PILE [_Chuckling._] He is game, but he's giving out.

THE PHEASANT-HEN Enough. Enough. Oh, stop!

A VOICE On White Pile, twenty to one!

THE PHEASANT-HEN [_Seeing_ CHANTECLER'S _bleeding neck._] He bleeds, oh!

A HEN [_Rising on tiptoe behind the_ GOLDEN PADUA c.o.c.k.] I should like to see the blood!

THE WHITE PILE [_Increasing the fury of his onset._] I'll have your gizzard!

THE HEN [_Trying to see._] The Padua c.o.c.k's hat shuts off my view!

THE BLACKBIRD Hats off!

A VOICE That was a stinger! On his comb!

SHRILL CRIES [_From the crowd._] Land him one! Do him up! Lay him out! Have his gore!

PATOU [_Standing up in his wheelbarrow._] Will you stop behaving like human beings?

CRIES [_Furiously keeping time with the blows showering upon_ CHANTECLER.] In the neck! On the nut! On the wing! On the--[_Sudden silence._]

CHANTECLER [_Amazed._] What is this? The ring breaks up, the shouting dies--[_He looks around. The_ WHITE PILE _has drawn away and backed against the hedge. A strange commotion agitates the crowd._ CHANTECLER, _exhausted, bleeding, tottering, does not understand, and murmurs._] What joke are they preparing against my end? [_And suddenly._] Joy, Patou, joy!