CHANTECLER
But—­

THE BLACKBIRD
All other Don Juans are donkeys beside you!  Says he to himself:  Make the
daybreak to impress little pheasant-hens!  And does it, too—­succeeds!

CHANTECLER
[In a smothered voice.] Be still!

THE BLACKBIRD
Neat, the little roof which must be gilded!  Complete, the ladder for the
Motes!

CHANTECLER
[In a spasm of pain.] Be still!

THE BLACKBIRD
And the access of modesty, a sweet little final touch!  I kiss my hand to
you!  Oh, he knows how—­no mistake he knows—­

CHANTECLER [Constraining himself, in a curt voice.] The Dawn?  Certainly, I know her.  I think I may claim that honor!

THE BLACKBIRD
You precious fakir!  Don’t you consider you have succeeded?

CHANTECLER
In bringing on the day?  Yes, certainly, I have succeeded admirably, in
this case.

THE BLACKBIRD
Oh, you do it so well!  How awfully well he does it!

CHANTECLER
Making the light?  Of course, I have done it so often!  I am used to it. 
The Sun obeys me.

THE BLACKBIRD
So, worthy Joshua!  You feel the dawn coming, and then you crow!  For
lightness of touch and richness of invention, give us a lyric poet!

CHANTECLER
[Bursting forth.] Wretch!

THE BLACKBIRD [Surprised.] Are you keeping it up with me? [Winking.] Oh, we know how the thing is done!

CHANTECLER
You may know,—­not I!  I just open my heart and sing!

THE BLACKBIRD
[Hopping about.] That’s the idea!

CHANTECLER
Blackbird, laugh at everything besides, but not at that, if you love me!

THE BLACKBIRD
I love you!

CHANTECLER
[Bitterly.] With half a heart!

THE BLACKBIRD
Can’t say a word about his Fiat Lux?

CHANTECLER
Not that!  Not that!

THE BLACKBIRD
Old man, it’s not my fault that I’m no gull.

CHANTECLER [Looking after him as he hops about.] He cannot keep still long enough, I suppose, to let the sacred truth sink in. [Trying to stop him in his hopping.] You behold the agony of emotion shaking me.  No more baffle and keep me off with words!

THE BLACKBIRD
[Hopping past him.] Catch, if you can, and convince me!

CHANTECLER [Imploring.] It’s a matter of life—­my profoundest life!  Oh, convince you I must, if only for a second!  I feel the holy impulse to struggle with your soul!

THE BLACKBIRD
[Hopping past him.] Do you!

CHANTECLER
In solemn earnest, at the bottom of your heart, you did—­did you
not?—­believe me?

THE BLACKBIRD
I believe you!

CHANTECLER [With pressing anguish.] You must in some manner be aware of the dreadful cost to me of that song?  Come, use your reason.  To sing as you heard me sing, you must realise that I needed—­