THE BLACKBIRD
[Touching his brow with his wing.] She is dotty!

THE GUINEA-HEN [At the back, with shrill GUINEA-HEN cries.] It’s my last day!  How do you do?  My last day until August!  Mondays in August, don’t forget!

A HEN
[Seeing cherries dropping around her.] Oh, cherries, look!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[Looking upward.] It is the Breeze!

THE GUINEA-HEN [Fluttering forward again, excited as ever.] I have the Breeze, who now and then shakes down a cherry!  I never ask her.  She comes unasked.  What’s-his-name is here!  And What’s-her-name is here, and—­[To the back tumultuously.]

THE BLACKBIRD And Thingumbob, and Stick-in-the-mud! [He has arrived without appearance of design beneath the tree where the CAT is lying, and asks rapidly, under breath.] Cat, what about the conspiracy?

THE CAT [Who from his tree can see beyond the hedge.] It is afoot.  I see the interminable file of phenomenal Cocks approaching, headed by the Peacock who comes to present them.

A CRY
[Outside.] Ee—­yong! [The CROWD throngs toward the entrance.]

PATOU
[Grumbling.] That abominable concertina cry—­

THE MAGPIE
The Peacock!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[To the BLACKBIRD.] Have you a fancy name for him?

THE BLACKBIRD
[Imitating the PEACOCK’S cry.] Our great Accordee-yong!

SCENE SECOND

THE SAME, THE PEACOCK.

THE GUINEA-HEN [To the PEACOCK, who enters slowly, with his head borne very stiff and high.] Master, dear Master, would you be so extremely condescending as to come and stand with your back to these sunflowers?  Peacock!  Sunflowers!  A study for Burne-Jones!

ALL
[Crowding around the PEACOCK.] Master!  Master!

A CHICKEN
[Low to the DUCK.] A word from him can make one’s fortune in society!

ANOTHER CHICKEN [Who has succeeded in forcing his way to the PEACOCK, stammering with emotion.] Master, what do you think of my latest “cheep”? [Suspense.  Religious silence.]

THE PEACOCK [Solemnly, letting the word drop slowly from his beak.] Definitive. [Sensation.]

A DUCK
[Trembling.] And my “quack”? [Suspense.]

THE PEACOCK
Ultimate! [Sensation.]

THE GUINEA-HEN [Delighted, to the HENS.] I may say that it is at my days most especially he throws off these specimens of a verbal art which might fairly be called—­

THE PEACOCK
Lapidary.

ALL THE HENS
[Rolling up their eyes.] Wonderful!

A HEN [Coming forward, faint with emotion.] Master, high priest of taste, what do you think of my dress? [Suspense.]