So you come to us from the East, like the Dawn?

THE PHEASANT-HEN
My life has the picturesque disorder of a poem. If I came from the East,
it was by way of Egypt.

PATOU
[_Aside, heart-broken._] A gypsy, on top of the rest!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
[_To_ CHANTECLER, _tossing and twisting her head so that the colours
ripple at her throat._] Have you noticed these two shades? They are our
own especial colours--the Dawn's and mine! Princess of the underbrush,
queen of the glade, I am pleased to wear the yellow locks of an
adventuress. Dreamy and homesick for my unknown home, I choose my
palaces among the rustling flags and withered irises that fringe the
pool. I dote upon the forest, and when it smells in autumn of dead
leaves and decaying wood--

PATOU
[_In consternation._] She is mad!

THE PHEASANT-HEN
Wild as a tree-bough in a southerly gale, I tremble, flutter, spend
myself in motion, till a vast languor overtakes me--

CHANTECLER
[_Who for a minute or so has been letting his wing hang, now begins
slowly circling about the_ PHEASANT-HEN, _in the manner of the_
BLACKBIRD _aping him, with a very gentle, throaty._] Coa--[_The_