LAVARCHAM.
— to Old Woman. — She doesn’t heed us at all. We’ll be hard set to rouse her.
OLD WOMAN.
If we don’t the High King will rouse her, coming down beside her with the rage of battle in his blood, for how could Fergus stand against him?
LAVARCHAM.
— touching Deirdre with her hand. — There’s a score of woman’s years in store for you, and you’d best choose will you start living them beside the man you hate, or being your own mistress in the west or south?
DEIRDRE.
It is not I will go on living after Ainnle and after Ardan. After Naisi I will not have a lifetime in the world.
OLD WOMAN.
— with excitement. — Look, Lavarcham! There’s a light leaving the Red Branch. Conchubor and his lot will be coming quickly with a torch of bog-deal for her marriage, throwing a light on her three comrades.
DEIRDRE.
— startled. — Let us throw down clay on my three comrades. Let us cover up Naisi along with Ainnle and Ardan, they that were the pride of Emain. (Throwing in clay.) There is Naisi was the best of three, the choicest of the choice of many. It was a clean death was your share, Naisi; and it is not I will quit your head, when it’s many a dark night among the snipe and plover that you and I were whispering together. It is not I will quit your head, Naisi, when it’s many a night we saw the stars among the clear trees of Glen da Ruadh, or the moon pausing to rest her on the edges of the hills.
OLD WOMAN.
Conchubor is coming, surely. I see the glare of flames throwing a light upon his cloak.
LAVARCHAM.
— eagerly. — Rise up, Deirdre, and come to Fergus, or be the High King’s slave for ever!
DEIRDRE.
— imperiously. — I will not leave Naisi, who has left the whole world scorched and desolate. I will not go away when there is no light in the heavens, and no flower in the earth under them, but is saying to me that it is Naisi who is gone for ever.
CONCHUBOR.
— behind. — She is here. Stay a little back. (Lavarcham and Old Woman go into the shadow on left as Conchubor comes in. With excitement, to Deirdre.) Come forward and leave Naisi the way I’ve left charred timber and a smell of burning in Emain Macha, and a heap of rubbish in the storehouse of many crowns.