Alban. Early morning in the beginning of winter. A wood outside the tent of Deirdre and Naisi. Lavarcham comes in muffled in a cloak.
LAVARCHAM.
— calling. — Deirdre. . . . Deirdre. . . .
DEIRDRE.
— coming from tent. — My welcome, Lavarcham. . . . Whose curagh is rowing from Ulster? I saw the oars through the tops of the trees, and I thought it was you were coming towards us.
LAVARCHAM.
I came in the shower was before dawn.
DEIRDRE.
And who is coming?
LAVARCHAM.
— mournfully. — Let you not be startled or taking it bad, Deirdre. It’s Fergus bringing messages of peace from Conchubor to take Naisi and his brothers back to Emain.
[Sitting down.
DEIRDRE.
— lightly. — Naisi and his brothers are well pleased with this place; and what would take them back to Conchubor in Ulster?
LAVARCHAM.
Their like would go any place where they’d see death standing. (With more agitation.) I’m in dread Conchubor wants to have yourself and to kill Naisi, and that that’ll be the ruin of the Sons of Usna. I’m silly, maybe, to be dreading the like, but those have a great love for yourself have a right to be in dread always.
DEIRDRE.
— more anxiously. — Emain should be no safe place for myself and Naisi. And isn’t it a hard thing they’ll leave us no peace, Lavarcham, and we so quiet in the woods?