the point of appearing to be the breath, the azured atmosphere, the very
substance of the wonderful garden_.)

TYLTYL (_dazzled, bewildered, standing in the light of the garden_)
Oh!... Heaven!... (_Turning to those who have fled_) Come quickly!...
They are here!... It's they, it's they, it's they!... We have them
at last!... Thousands of blue birds!... Millions!.... Thousands of
millions!... There will be too many!... Come, Mytyl!... Come, Tylo!...
Come, all!... Help me!... (_Darting in among the birds_.) You can
catch them by handfuls!... They are not shy!... They are not afraid of
us!.... Here! Here!.... (MYTYL _and the others run up. They all enter the
dazzling garden, except_ NIGHT _and the_ CAT.) You see!... There
are too many of them!... They fly into my hands!... Look, they are eating
the moonbeams!... Mytyl, where are you?.... There are so many blue wings,
so many feathers falling that one cannot see anything for them!.... Don't
bite them, Tylo!.... Don't hurt them!.... Take them very gently!....

MYTYL (_covered with blue birds_)
I have caught seven already!.... Oh, how they flap their wings!.... I can't
hold them!....

TYLTYL
Nor can I!.... I have too many of them!... They're escaping!.... They're
coming back!.... Tylo has some, too!.... They will drag us with them!....
They will take us up to the sky!.... Quick, let us go out this way!....
Light is waiting for us!.... How pleased she will be!.... This way, this
way!....

(_They escape from the garden, with their hands full of struggling birds,
and, crossing the whole hall amid the mad whirl of the azure wings, go out