Closing the eyes, and stretching out the feet,

And push a pillow underneath the head,

Till all’s in order; and all this I’ll do

For Naisi, son of Usna.

CONCHUBAR.

It is not fitting.

You are not now a wanderer, but a queen,

And there are plenty that can do these things.

DEIRDRE.
[Motioning CONCHUBAR away.]

No, no. Not yet. I cannot be your queen