Fergna. None touched her. She had gazed on yonder mound,
Setting her eyes on it, while car and horses
Moved on, until the little crests at last
Rose over it; then she awoke and swept
One fierce glance over Eogan, set before,
And slid one glance as fierce toward Conchobar,
Behind her and more close! It was one hatred,
The hatred of each glance. A shudder ran
All through my body: and through all the air
Ran laughter.
Lebarcham. Hers?—;her laughter?
Fergna. No, the king’s.
And then his words, the words of jest that followed!
“Deirdre, the glance a ewe
Would cast between two rams you cast on us,
Eogan and me.”
She started, and the horses
Started beneath my hand. I tightened rein,
And the whole chariot shivered as she leapt
Upon the rocks before her. Then those two
Sprung to the place where she was dashed, their breath
Whistled like winds: their crossing swords, with gnash
Of hungry teeth, affrighted me. I fled,
Leaving behind the chariot stopped by trees,
Rock-rooted....
He returns—;
The king! He leads the horses of his car
Slowly along. They come, but yet as night
Comes by long twilight.
Lebarcham. Lonely Conchobar!
[Re-enter Conchobar solemnly leading
the chariot.
O king....
Conchobar. Your horses, Fergna! Take the reins;
Lead them....
Fergna. My lord, forgive me. I will lead them
Back to their stable.
Lebarcham. Deirdre? Where is Eogan?
And Deirdre—;where?
Conchobar [with a hoarse laugh]. Ho, they have passed the borders,
Passed from my realm.
Nay, Fergna,
Lead the great car, checking the horses’ heads
Beside yon barrow of a hero: there
Unyoke them. Dig a neighbour sepulchre.
And let the bases of each monument
Touch where they spring.
Fergna. My lord ... and shall I seek
Among the rocks?
Conchobar. You shall but lift its burthen
Forth of the chariot to the hollowed grave.