With human voices.
Dectora.Clouds have hid the moon.
The birds cry out, what can I do but tremble?
Forgael. 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;
They’re crying out. Can you not hear their cry—
‘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 carry torches.]