Come, little bird with crest of gold!
MAIRE BRUIN [very softly].
And yet—
THE CHILD.
Come, little bird with silver feet!
[MAIRE dies, and THE CHILD goes.
SHAWN BRUIN.
She is dead!
BRIDGET BRUIN.
Come from that image there: she is far away:
Come, little bird with crest of gold!
MAIRE BRUIN [very softly].
And yet—
THE CHILD.
Come, little bird with silver feet!
[MAIRE dies, and THE CHILD goes.
SHAWN BRUIN.
She is dead!
BRIDGET BRUIN.
Come from that image there: she is far away: