To
unimaginable
happiness.
Yeats
FORGAEL.
Look there!
DECTORA.
What is there but a troop of ash-grey birds
That fly into the west?
FORGAEL.
But listen, listen!
DECTORA.
What is there but the crying of the birds?
FORGAEL.
If you'll but listen closely to that crying
You'll hear them calling out to one another
With human voices.
DECTORA.
O, I can hear them now.
What are they? Unto what country do they fly?
FORGAEL.
To unimaginable happiness.
They have been circling over our heads in the air,
But now that they have taken to the road
We have to follow, for they are our pilots;
And though they're but the colour of grey ash,
They're crying out, could you but hear their words,
'There is a country at the end of the world
Where no child's born but to outlive the moon. '
[_The SAILORS come in with AIBRIC. They are in great
excitement. _
FIRST SAILOR.
The hold is full of treasure.
SECOND SAILOR.
Full to the hatches.
FIRST SAILOR.
Treasure and treasure.
THIRD SAILOR.
Boxes of precious spice.
FIRST SAILOR.
Ivory images with amethyst eyes.
THIRD SAILOR.
Dragons with eyes of ruby.
