But the Cigale is far from sharing in such emotions.

It has excellent sight.

Its great faceted eyes inform it of all that happens to right and left; its three stemmata, like little ruby telescopes, explore the sky above its head.

If it sees us coming it is silent at once, and flies away.

But let us get behind the branch on which it is singing; let us manoeuvre so as to avoid the five centres of vision, and then let us speak, whistle, clap the hands, beat two stones together.