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THE GRAND-DUKE
I can hear him licking his paws.
THE SCREECH-OWL
[Resuming.] Brethren of the Night! Inasmuch as everybody here--and we
plume ourselves upon it!--is possessed of the evil eye--
ALL THE BIRDS
[Chuckling and rocking in their peculiarly disgusting and
characteristic fashion.] Ha, ha!
THE GRAND-DUKE
[Spreading his wings to demand silence.] Hush! [All return to their
appalling stillness.]
THE BLACKBIRD
My eye is merely roguish. I am here to look on, you know, without taking
sides,--in the artist spirit, that's all.
AN OWL
If you are not taking sides, then you are siding with us!
THE BLACKBIRD
Oh, I say, what a primitive notion!
THE SCREECH-OWL
[Completing his sentence.] Let us express ourselves with simple and
direct malevolence: the Cock is a robber!
ALL
A robber! He robs us!
THE BLACKBIRD
Now, what the--Robs you of what?
THE GRAND-DUKE
Of health! Gladness!
THE BLACKBIRD
How is that?
THE SCREECH-OWL
By his crowing!
THE GRAND-DUKE
His crowing brings on enlargement of the spleen and pericarditis! For it
heralds--
THE BLACKBIRD
[Hopping about.] Oh, I see--The light!
[All make a violent motion in his direction; the BLACKBIRD
frightened, hides among the fagots.]
THE GRAND-DUKE
[Emphatically.] Never speak that word! When that word is spoken, Night
at the horizon feels a crawling discomfort, a titillation underneath
her wing.
THE BLACKBIRD
[Cautiously correcting himself.] The brightness of--[General start
of dismay repeated; the BLACKBIRD again dodges behind the fagots.]
AN OWL
[Hurriedly.] Never utter that horrible grating word, which so
hatefully suggests the scratching of a match!
THE SCREECH-OWL
You should express yourself: The Cock heralds the folding back of the
pall--
THE BLACKBIRD
But the day--[Start and threatening gesture from all.]
ALL
[In voices of unspeakable anguish.] Not that word!
THE GRAND-DUKE
You must refer to it as "that which will be!"
THE BLACKBIRD
What difference does it make whether or not he heralds the--
ALL
[Stopping him.] Ha!
THE BLACKBIRD
--the folding back of the pall, since that which will be--will be!
THE GRAND-DUKE
[In tones of despair.] Simple torture it is to hear a brazen throat
forever reminding you of what you know to be only too true!
ALL
[Writhing in pain.] Too true! Too true!
THE GRAND-DUKE
He begins while the night is still pleasant and cool--
CRIES ON ALL SIDES
He is a robber, a thief!
THE GRAND-DUKE
He cheats us!
ALL THE OWLS
He cheats us! Cheats us!
THE GRAND-DUKE
Of the good bit of night there still is left.
AN OWLET
He compels us to leave our posts beside the warrens--
THE SCREECH-OWL
Our feasts of steaming flesh!
THE WOOD-OWL
The witches' routs where we ride perched on the fist of a hag!
THE GRAND-DUKE
After cock-crow an Owl is no longer in his normal state--
THE SCREECH-OWL
He does evil in a hurry!
THE GRAND-DUKE
And bungles it in consequence!
THE OLD HORNED-OWL
As soon as the Cock has crowed all becomes temporary provisional--
THE BARN-OWL
Though the Night be still black, we are painfully aware of it growing
less and less black!
THE SCREECH-OWL
When his metallic voice has cleft the night, we squirm like a worm in a
fruit that is cut in two.
THE BLACKBIRD
[On his fagot, mystified.] The other Cocks, however--
THE GRAND-DUKE
Their song creates no uneasiness. It is his song which must be silenced.
ALL THE NIGHT-BIRDS
[Flapping their wings, in a long lament.] Silenced! Silenced!
AN OWL
How can it be accomplished?
THE SCREECH-OWL
The Blackbird here has worked in our cause.
THE BLACKBIRD
Who--I?
THE SCREECH-OWL
Yes, you laughed at him.
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Rostand, Edmond, 1868-1918 - Chantecler