True to his word, Gog smashes his mighty fists into the rock wall, apparently oblivious to the bruising and bleeding this causes to his huge hands. The cavern echoes with the sound of his colossal blows. After some time has passed, this ceases, to be replaced by the sound of the giant's heavy breathing, this task being somewhat difficult even for one of his strength. Mixed with this, as expected, is the sound of many serpents hissing. Yet another sound mixes with these, one of a much more pleasing nature. It is a woman's voice, low and sweet, speaking in a way that is half-chanting and half-singing, in a language that the educated Doctor North will surely know to be ancient Greek, and most likely recognize as one of the most famous lyrics of the greatest poetess of that time and place, which may be rendered, if only in weak and tepid fashion, into the English tongue thus:
Again love, the limb-loosener, rattles me
bittersweet,
irresistible,
a crawling beast.
As a wind in the mountains
assaults an oak,
Love shook my breast.
Judging by a heavy sigh he produces, Gog appears to be entranced by the voice, although he can certainly not understand it.
"Woman . . ." he says, in a voice less booming than usual.