“It may be so,” Naoise affirmed. “But Ireland is dearer to me than Scotland.”
“Scotland is safer,” she said.
“Will you be safer in Scotland than with me?” cried Fergus in amazement. “I have yet a little power,” he smiled.
“We will go with you,” said Naoise.
“Do not go, my pulse,” said Deirdre in great agitation. “Do not trust yourself where Conachúr is.”
“Women and cats dislike change,” Naoise laughed, “but you will love this change.”
In half an hour they strode down the hill, and in an hour their sails were bent for Ireland.
It was then Deirdre made her first poem, beginning
A lovable land is that in the east,
Marvellous Alba....