DEIRDRE.
— more awake to what is round her. — What are crowns and Emain Macha, when the head that gave them glory is this place, Conchubor, and it stretched upon the gravel will be my bed tonight?
CONCHUBOR.
Make an end of talk of Naisi, for I’ve come to bring you to Dundealgan since Emain is destroyed.
[Conchubor makes a movement towards her.
DEIRDRE.
— with a tone that stops him. — Draw a little back from Naisi, who is young for ever. Draw a little back from the white bodies I am putting under a mound of clay and grasses that are withered — a mound will have a nook for my own self when the end is come.
CONCHUBOR.
— roughly. — Let you rise up and come along with me in place of growing crazy with your wailings here.
DEIRDRE.
It’s yourself has made a crazy story, and let you go back to your arms, Conchubor, and to councils where your name is great, for in this place you are an old man and a fool only.
CONCHUBOR.
If I’ve folly, I’ve sense left not to lose the thing I’ve bought with sorrow and the deaths of many.
[He moves towards her.
DEIRDRE.
Do not raise a hand to touch me.
CONCHUBOR.
There are other hands to touch you. My fighters are set round in among the trees.