Several Voices
Silence!
The Blackbird
[On his fagot.] What an awf’ly lovely evening party!
The Screech-owl
[Oratorically.] Brethren of the Night—
The Grand-duke
[To the Owl next to him.] The meeting-place seems to me particularly well chosen. The blackest spot, the moldiest tree. To the right, old postherds. To the left, in the dark between the hollies—the view!
The Screech-owl
Brethren of the Night!—
An Owl
There comes the Mole!
Several Voices
Silence!
The Owl
She must have taken, to come here, a route below the roots of the daisies—
The Blackbird
The subway, what else?
The Grand-duke
[To his neighbor.] Is that the Blackbird?