LAVARCHAM.
— opening the door. — Come in then and ill-luck if you’ll have it so.
[Naisi and Ainnle and Ardan come in and look round with astonishment.
NAISI.
It’s a rich man has this place, and no herd at all.
LAVARCHAM.
— sitting down with her head half covered. — It is not, and you’d best be going quickly.
NAISI.
— hilariously, shaking rain from his clothes. — When we’ve had the pick of luck finding princely comfort in the darkness of the night! Some rich man of Ulster should come here and he chasing in the woods. May we drink? (He takes up flask.) Whose wine is this that we may drink his health?
LAVARCHAM.
It’s no one’s that you’ve call to know.
NAISI.
Your own health then and length of life. (Pouring out wine for the three. They drink.)
LAVARCHAM.
— very crossly. — You’re great boys taking a welcome where it isn’t given, and asking questions where you’ve no call to. . . . If you’d a quiet place settled up to be playing yourself, maybe, with a gentle queen, what’d you think of young men prying around and carrying tales? When I was a bit of a girl the big men of Ulster had better manners, and they the like of your three selves, in the top folly of youth. That’ll be a story to tell out in Tara that Naisi is a tippler and stealer, and Ainnle the drawer of a stranger’s cork.
NAISI.
— quite cheerfully, sitting down beside her. — At your age you should know there are nights when a king like Conchubor will spit upon his arm ring, and queens will stick their tongues out at the rising moon. We’re that way this night, and it’s not wine we’re asking only. Where is the young girl told us we might shelter here?
LAVARCHAM.
Asking me you’d be? We’re decent people, and I wouldn’t put you tracking a young girl, not if you gave me the gold clasp you have hanging on your coat.