{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_1922/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_1922","id":"gutenberg_1922","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1922","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Plays/Films/Dramas","Deirdre (Legendary character) -- Drama","Epic literature, Irish -- Adaptations","Ireland -- Drama","Queens -- Drama","Tales -- Ireland -- Adaptations"],"text":"Text file produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer\n\nHTML file produced by David Widger\n\n\n\ncover\n\n\n\nDEIRDRE OF THE SORROWS\n\n\n\nBy J. M. Synge\n\n\n\nContents\n\n\n ACT I.\n ACT II.\n ACT III.\n APPENDIX.\n TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE.\n\n\n PERSONS IN THE PLAY\n\nLAVARCHAM, _Deirdre\u2019s nurse_\n\nOLD WOMAN, _Lavarcham\u2019s servant_\n\nOWEN, _Conchubor\u2019s attendant and spy_\n\nCONCHUBOR, _High King of Ulster_\n\nFERGUS, _Conchubor\u2019s friend_\n\nDEIRDRE\n\nNAISI, _Deirdre\u2019s lover_\n\nAINNLE, _Naisi\u2019s brother_\n\nARDAN, _Naisi\u2019s brother_\n\nTWO SOLDIERS\n\n\nACT I.\n\n_Lavarcham\u2019s house on Slieve Fuadh. There is a door to inner room on\nthe left, and a door to open air on the right. Window at back and a\nframe with a half-finished piece of tapestry. There are also a large\npress and heavy oak chest near the back wall. The place is neat and\nclean but bare. Lavarcham, woman of fifty, is working at tapestry\nframe. Old Woman comes in from left._\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nShe hasn\u2019t come yet, is it, and it falling to the night?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nShe has not. . . (_Concealing her anxiety._) It\u2019s dark with the clouds\nare coming from the west and south, but it isn\u2019t later than the common.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nIt\u2019s later, surely, and I hear tell the Sons of Usna, Naisi and his\nbrothers, are above chasing hares for two days or three, and the same\nawhile since when the moon was full.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _more anxiously._ \u2014 The gods send they don\u2019t set eyes on her \u2014 (_with\na sign of helplessness_) yet if they do itself, it wasn\u2019t my wish\nbrought them or could send them away.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _reprovingly._ \u2014 If it wasn\u2019t, you\u2019d do well to keep a check on her,\nand she turning a woman that was meant to be a queen.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nWho\u2019d check her like was meant to have her pleasure only, the way if\nthere were no warnings told about her you\u2019d see troubles coming when an\nold king is taking her, and she without a thought but for her beauty\nand to be straying the hills.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nThe gods help the lot of us. . . . Shouldn\u2019t she be well pleased\ngetting the like of Conchubor, and he middling settled in his years\nitself? I don\u2019t know what he wanted putting her this wild place to be\nbreaking her in, or putting myself to be roasting her supper and she\nwith no patience for her food at all.\n\n[_She looks out._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nIs she coming from the glen?\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nShe is not. But whisht \u2014 there\u2019s two men leaving the furze \u2014 (_crying\nout_) it\u2019s Conchubor and Fergus along with him. Conchubor\u2019ll be in a\nblue stew this night and herself abroad.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _settling room hastily._ \u2014 Are they close by?\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nCrossing the stream, and there\u2019s herself on the hillside with a load of\ntwigs. Will I run out and put her in order before they\u2019ll set eyes on\nher at all?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nYou will not. Would you have him see you, and he a man would be jealous\nof a hawk would fly between her and the rising sun. (_She looks out._)\nGo up to the hearth and be as busy as if you hadn\u2019t seen them at all.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _sitting down to polish vessel._ \u2014 There\u2019ll be trouble this night,\nfor he should be in his tempers from the way he\u2019s stepping out, and he\nswinging his hands.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _wearied with the whole matter._ \u2014 It\u2019d be best of all, maybe, if he\ngot in tempers with herself, and made an end quickly, for I\u2019m in a poor\nway between the pair of them (_going back to tapestry frame._) There\nthey are now at the door.\n\n[_Conchubor and Fergus come in._\n\nCONCHUBOR AND FERGUS.\nThe gods save you.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _getting up and courtesying._ \u2014 The gods save and keep you kindly,\nand stand between you and all harm for ever.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _looking around._ \u2014 Where is Deirdre?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _trying to speak with indifference._ \u2014 Abroad upon Slieve Fuadh. She\ndoes be all times straying around picking flowers or nuts, or sticks\nitself; but so long as she\u2019s gathering new life I\u2019ve a right not to\nheed her, I\u2019m thinking, and she taking her will.\n\n[_Fergus talks to Old Woman._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _stiffly._ \u2014 A night with thunder coming is no night to be abroad.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _more uneasily._ \u2014 She\u2019s used to every track and pathway, and the\nlightning itself wouldn\u2019t let down its flame to singe the beauty of her\nlike.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _cheerfully._ \u2014 She\u2019s right, Conchubor, and let you sit down and take\nyour ease, (_he takes a wallet from under his cloak_) and I\u2019ll count\nout what we\u2019ve brought, and put it in the presses within.\n\n[_He goes into the inner room with the Old Woman._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _sitting down and looking about._ \u2014 Where are the mats and hangings\nand the silver skillets I sent up for Deirdre?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nThe mats and hangings are in this press, Conchubor. She wouldn\u2019t wish\nto be soiling them, she said, running out and in with mud and grasses\non her feet, and it raining since the night of Samhain. The silver\nskillets and the golden cups we have beyond locked in the chest.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nBring them out and use them from this day.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nWe\u2019ll do it, Conchubor.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _getting up and going to frame._ \u2014 Is this hers?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _pleased to speak of it._ \u2014 It is, Conchubor. All say there isn\u2019t her\nmatch at fancying figures and throwing purple upon crimson, and she\nedging them all times with her greens and gold.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _a little uneasily._ \u2014 Is she keeping wise and busy since I passed\nbefore, and growing ready for her life in Emain?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _dryly._ \u2014 That is a question will give small pleasure to yourself or\nme. (_Making up her mind to speak out._) If it\u2019s the truth I\u2019ll tell\nyou, she\u2019s growing too wise to marry a big king and she a score only.\nLet you not be taking it bad, Conchubor, but you\u2019ll get little good\nseeing her this night, for with all my talking it\u2019s wilfuller she\u2019s\ngrowing these two months or three.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _severely, but relieved things are no worse._ \u2014 Isn\u2019t it a poor thing\nyou\u2019re doing so little to school her to meet what is to come?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI\u2019m after serving you two score of years, and I\u2019ll tell you this night,\nConchubor, she\u2019s little call to mind an old woman when she has the\nbirds to school her, and the pools in the rivers where she goes bathing\nin the sun. I\u2019ll tell you if you seen her that time, with her white\nskin, and her red lips, and the blue water and the ferns about her,\nyou\u2019d know, maybe, and you greedy itself, it wasn\u2019t for your like she\nwas born at all.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s little I heed for what she was born; she\u2019ll be my comrade, surely.\n\n[_He examines her workbox._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _sinking into sadness again._ \u2014 I\u2019m in dread so they were right\nsaying she\u2019d bring destruction on the world, for it\u2019s a poor thing when\nyou see a settled man putting the love he has for a young child, and\nthe love he has for a full woman, on a girl the like of her; and it\u2019s a\npoor thing, Conchubor, to see a High King, the way you are this day,\nprying after her needles and numbering her lines of thread.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _getting up._ \u2014 Let you not be talking too far and you old itself.\n(_Walks across room and back._) Does she know the troubles are\nforetold?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _in the tone of the earlier talk._ \u2014 I\u2019m after telling her one time\nand another, but I\u2019d do as well speaking to a lamb of ten weeks and it\nracing the hills. . . . It\u2019s not the dread of death or troubles that\nwould tame her like.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _he looks out._ \u2014 She\u2019s coming now, and let you walk in and keep\nFergus till I speak with her a while.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _going left._ \u2014 If I\u2019m after vexing you itself, it\u2019d be best you\nweren\u2019t taking her hasty or scolding her at all.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _very stiffly._ \u2014 I\u2019ve no call to. I\u2019m well pleased she\u2019s light and\nairy.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _offended at his tone._ \u2014 Well pleased is it? (_With a snort of\nirony_) It\u2019s a queer thing the way the likes of me do be telling the\ntruth, and the wise are lying all times.\n\n[_She goes into room on left. Conchubor arranges himself before a\nmirror for a moment, then goes a little to the left and waits. Deirdre\ncomes in poorly dressed, with a little bag and a bundle of twigs in her\narms. She is astonished for a moment when she sees Conchubor; then she\nmakes a courtesy to him, and goes to the hearth without any\nembarrassment._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nThe gods save you, Deirdre. I have come up bringing you rings and\njewels from Emain Macha.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nThe gods save you.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nWhat have you brought from the hills?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _quite self-possessed._ \u2014 A bag of nuts, and twigs for our fires at\nthe dawn of day.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _showing annoyance in spite of himself._ \u2014 And it\u2019s that way you\u2019re\npicking up the manners will fit you to be Queen of Ulster?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _made a little defiant by his tone._ \u2014 I have no wish to be a queen.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _almost sneeringly._ \u2014 You\u2019d wish to be dressing in your duns and\ngrey, and you herding your geese or driving your calves to their shed \u2014\nlike the common lot scattered in the glens.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _very defiant._ \u2014 I would not, Conchubor. (_She goes to tapestry and\nbegins to work._) A girl born the way I\u2019m born is more likely to wish\nfor a mate who\u2019d be her likeness. . . . A man with his hair like the\nraven, maybe, and his skin like the snow and his lips like blood spilt\non it.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _sees his mistake, and after a moment takes a flattering tone,\nlooking at her work._ \u2014 Whatever you wish, there\u2019s no queen but would\nbe well pleased to have your skill at choosing colours and making\npictures on the cloth. (_Looking closely._) What is it you\u2019re figuring?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _deliberately._ \u2014 Three young men and they chasing in the green gap\nof a wood.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _now almost pleading._ \u2014 It\u2019s soon you\u2019ll have dogs with silver\nchains to be chasing in the woods of Emain, for I have white hounds\nrearing up for you, and grey horses, that I\u2019ve chosen from the finest\nin Ulster and Britain and Gaul.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _unmoved as before._ \u2014 I\u2019ve heard tell, in Ulster and Britain and\nGaul, Naisi and his brothers have no match and they chasing in the\nwoods.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _very gravely._ \u2014 Isn\u2019t it a strange thing you\u2019d be talking of Naisi\nand his brothers, or figuring them either, when you know the things\nthat are foretold about themselves and you? Yet you\u2019ve little\nknowledge, and I\u2019d do wrong taking it bad when it\u2019ll be my share from\nthis out to keep you the way you\u2019ll have little call to trouble for\nknowledge, or its want either.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nYourself should be wise, surely.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nThe like of me has a store of knowledge that\u2019s a weight and terror.\nIt\u2019s for that we do choose out the like of yourself that are young and\nglad only. . . . I\u2019m thinking you are gay and lively each day in the\nyear?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI don\u2019t know if that\u2019s true, Conchubor. There are lonesome days and bad\nnights in this place like another.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nYou should have as few sad days, I\u2019m thinking, as I have glad and good\nones.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nWhat is it has you that way ever coming this place, when you\u2019d hear the\nold woman saying a good child\u2019s as happy as a king?\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nHow would I be happy seeing age coming on me each year, when the dry\nleaves are blowing back and forward at the gate of Emain? And yet this\nlast while I\u2019m saying out, when I see the furze breaking and the daws\nsitting two and two on ash-trees by the duns of Emain, Deirdre\u2019s a year\nnearer her full age when she\u2019ll be my mate and comrade and then I\u2019m\nglad surely.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _almost to herself._ \u2014 I will not be your mate in Emain.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _not heeding her._ \u2014 It\u2019s there you\u2019ll be proud and happy and you\u2019ll\nlearn that, if young men are great hunters, yet it\u2019s with the like of\nmyself you\u2019ll find a knowledge of what is priceless in your own like.\nWhat we all need is a place is safe and splendid, and it\u2019s that you\u2019ll\nget in Emain in two days or three.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _aghast._ \u2014 Two days!\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nI have the rooms ready, and in a little while you\u2019ll be brought down\nthere, to be my queen and queen of the five parts of Ireland.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _standing up frightened and pleading._ \u2014 I\u2019d liefer stay this place,\nConchubor. . . . Leave me this place, where I\u2019m well used to the tracks\nand pathways and the people of the glens. . . . It\u2019s for this life I\u2019m\nborn, surely.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nYou\u2019ll be happier and greater with myself in Emain. It is I will be\nyour comrade, and will stand between you and the great troubles are\nforetold.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI will not be your queen in Emain when it\u2019s my pleasure to be having my\nfreedom on the edges of the hills.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s my wish to have you quickly; I\u2019m sick and weary thinking of the\nday you\u2019ll be brought down to me, and seeing you walking into my big,\nempty halls. I\u2019ve made all sure to have you, and yet all said there\u2019s a\nfear in the back of my mind I\u2019d miss you and have great troubles in the\nend. It\u2019s for that, Deirdre, I\u2019m praying that you\u2019ll come quickly; and\nyou may take the word of a man has no lies, you\u2019ll not find, with any\nother, the like of what I\u2019m bringing you in wildness and confusion in\nmy own mind.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI cannot go, Conchubor.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _taking a triumphant tone._ \u2014 It is my pleasure to have you, and I a\nman is waiting a long while on the throne of Ulster. Wouldn\u2019t you\nliefer be my comrade, growing up the like of Emer and Maeve, than to be\nin this place and you a child always?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nYou don\u2019t know me and you\u2019d have little joy taking me, Conchubor. . . .\nI\u2019m a long while watching the days getting a great speed passing me by.\nI\u2019m too long taking my will, and it\u2019s that way I\u2019ll be living always.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _dryly._ \u2014 Call Fergus to come with me. This is your last night upon\nSlieve Fuadh.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _now pleadingly._ \u2014 Leave me a short space longer, Conchubor. Isn\u2019t\nit a poor thing I should be hastened away, when all these troubles are\nforetold? Leave me a year, Conchubor; it isn\u2019t much I\u2019m asking.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s much to have me two score and two weeks waiting for your voice in\nEmain, and you in this place growing lonesome and shy. I\u2019m a ripe man\nand in great love, and yet, Deirdre, I\u2019m the King of Ulster. (_He gets\nup._) I\u2019ll call Fergus, and we\u2019ll make Emain ready in the morning.\n\n[_He goes towards door on left._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _clinging to him._ \u2014 Do not call him, Conchubor. . . . Promise me a\nyear of quiet. . . . It\u2019s one year I\u2019m asking only.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nYou\u2019d be asking a year next year, and the years that follow.\n(_Calling._) Fergus! Fergus! (_To Deirdre._) Young girls are slow\nalways; it is their lovers that must say the word. (_Calling._) Fergus!\n\n[_Deirdre springs away from him as Fergus comes in with Lavarcham and\nthe Old Woman._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _to Fergus._ \u2014 There is a storm coming, and we\u2019d best be going to our\npeople when the night is young.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _cheerfully._ \u2014 The gods shield you, Deirdre. (_To Conchubor._) We\u2019re\nlate already, and it\u2019s no work the High King to be slipping on\nstepping-stones and hilly pathways when the floods are rising with the\nrain.\n\n[_He helps Conchubor into his cloak._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _glad that he has made his decision \u2014 to Lavarcham._ \u2014 Keep your\nrules a few days longer, and you\u2019ll be brought down to Emain, you and\nDeirdre with you.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _obediently._ \u2014 Your rules are kept always.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nThe gods shield you.\n\n[_He goes out with Fergus. Old Woman bolts door._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _looking at Deirdre, who has covered her face._ \u2014 Wasn\u2019t I saying\nyou\u2019d do it? You\u2019ve brought your marriage a sight nearer not heeding\nthose are wiser than yourself.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _with agitation._ \u2014 It wasn\u2019t I did it. Will you take me from this\nplace, Lavarcham, and keep me safe in the hills?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nHe\u2019d have us tracked in the half of a day, and then you\u2019d be his queen\nin spite of you, and I and mine would be destroyed for ever.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _terrified with the reality that is before her._ \u2014 Are there none can\ngo against Conchubor?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nMaeve of Connaught only, and those that are her like.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nWould Fergus go against him?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nHe would, maybe, and his temper roused.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _in a lower voice with sudden excitement._ \u2014 Would Naisi and his\nbrothers?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _impatiently._ \u2014 Let you not be dwelling on Naisi and his brothers. .\n. . In the end of all there is none can go against Conchubor, and it\u2019s\nfolly that we\u2019re talking, for if any went against Conchubor it\u2019s sorrow\nhe\u2019d earn and the shortening of his day of life.\n\n[_She turns away, and Deirdre stands up stiff with excitement and goes\nand looks out of the window._\n\nDEIRDRE.\nAre the stepping-stones flooding, Lavarcham? Will the night be stormy\nin the hills?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _looking at her curiously._ \u2014 The stepping-stones are flooding,\nsurely, and the night will be the worst, I\u2019m thinking, we\u2019ve seen these\nyears gone by.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _tearing open the press and pulling out clothes and tapestries._ \u2014\nLay these mats and hangings by the windows, and at the tables for our\nfeet, and take out the skillets of silver, and the golden cups we have,\nand our two flasks of wine.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nWhat ails you?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _gathering up a dress._ \u2014 Lay them out quickly, Lavarcham, we\u2019ve no\ncall dawdling this night. Lay them out quickly; I\u2019m going into the room\nto put on the rich dresses and jewels have been sent from Emain.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nPutting on dresses at this hour, and it dark and drenching with the\nweight of rain! Are you away in your head?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _gathering her things together with an outburst of excitement._ \u2014 I\nwill dress like Emer in Dundealgan, or Maeve in her house in Connaught.\nIf Conchubor\u2019ll make me a queen, I\u2019ll have the right of a queen who is\na master, taking her own choice and making a stir to the edges of the\nseas. . . . Lay out your mats and hangings where I can stand this night\nand look about me. Lay out the skins of the rams of Connaught and of\nthe goats of the west. I will not be a child or plaything; I\u2019ll put on\nmy robes that are the richest, for I will not be brought down to Emain\nas Cuchulain brings his horse to the yoke, or Conall Cearneach puts his\nshield upon his arm; and maybe from this day I will turn the men of\nIreland like a wind blowing on the heath.\n\n[_She goes into room. Lavarcham and Old Woman look at each other, then\nthe Old Woman goes over, looks in at Deirdre through chink of the door,\nand then closes it carefully._\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _in a frightened whisper._ \u2014 She\u2019s thrown off the rags she had about\nher, and there she is in her skin; she\u2019s putting her hair in shiny\ntwists. Is she raving, Lavarcham, or has she a good right turning to a\nqueen like Maeve?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _putting up hanging very anxiously._ \u2014 It\u2019s more than raving\u2019s in her\nmind, or I\u2019m the more astray; and yet she\u2019s as good a right as another,\nmaybe, having her pleasure, though she\u2019d spoil the world.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _helping her._ \u2014 Be quick before she\u2019ll come back. . . . Who\u2019d have\nthought we\u2019d run before her, and she so quiet till tonight. Will the\nHigh King get the better of her, Lavarcham? If I was Conchubor, I\nwouldn\u2019t marry with her like at all.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nHang that by the window. That should please her, surely. When all\u2019s\nsaid, it\u2019s her like will be the master till the end of time.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _at the window._ \u2014 There\u2019s a mountain of blackness in the sky, and\nthe greatest rain falling has been these long years on the earth. The\ngods help Conchubor. He\u2019ll be a sorry man this night, reaching his dun,\nand he with all his spirits, thinking to himself he\u2019ll be putting his\narms around her in two days or three.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nIt\u2019s more than Conchubor\u2019ll be sick and sorry, I\u2019m thinking, before\nthis story is told to the end.\n\n[_Loud knocking on door at the right._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _startled._ \u2014 Who is that?\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _outside._ \u2014 Naisi and his brothers.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nWe are lonely women. What is it you\u2019re wanting in the blackness of the\nnight?\n\nNAISI.\nWe met a young girl in the woods who told us we might shelter this\nplace if the rivers rose on the pathways and the floods gathered from\nthe butt of the hills.\n\n[_Old Woman clasps her hands in horror._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _with great alarm._ \u2014 You cannot come in. . . . There is no one let\nin here, and no young girl with us.\n\nNAISI.\nLet us in from the great storm. Let us in and we will go further when\nthe cloud will rise.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nGo round east to the shed and you\u2019ll have shelter. You cannot come in.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _knocking loudly._ \u2014 Open the door or we will burst it. (_The door is\nshaken._)\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _in a timid whisper._ \u2014 Let them in, and keep Deirdre in her room\ntonight.\n\nAINNLE AND ARDAN.\n\u2014 _outside._ \u2014 Open! Open!\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _to Old Woman._ \u2014 Go in and keep her.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nI couldn\u2019t keep her. I\u2019ve no hold on her. Go in yourself and I will\nfree the door.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI must stay and turn them out. (_She pulls her hair and cloak over her\nface._) Go in and keep her.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nThe gods help us.\n\n[_She runs into the inner room._\n\nVOICES.\nOpen!\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _opening the door._ \u2014 Come in then and ill-luck if you\u2019ll have it so.\n\n[_Naisi and Ainnle and Ardan come in and look round with astonishment._\n\nNAISI.\nIt\u2019s a rich man has this place, and no herd at all.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _sitting down with her head half covered._ \u2014 It is not, and you\u2019d\nbest be going quickly.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _hilariously, shaking rain from his clothes._ \u2014 When we\u2019ve had the\npick of luck finding princely comfort in the darkness of the night!\nSome rich man of Ulster should come here and he chasing in the woods.\nMay we drink? (_He takes up flask._) Whose wine is this that we may\ndrink his health?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nIt\u2019s no one\u2019s that you\u2019ve call to know.\n\nNAISI.\nYour own health then and length of life. (_Pouring out wine for the\nthree. They drink._)\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _very crossly._ \u2014 You\u2019re great boys taking a welcome where it isn\u2019t\ngiven, and asking questions where you\u2019ve no call to. . . . If you\u2019d a\nquiet place settled up to be playing yourself, maybe, with a gentle\nqueen, what\u2019d you think of young men prying around and carrying tales?\nWhen I was a bit of a girl the big men of Ulster had better manners,\nand they the like of your three selves, in the top folly of youth.\nThat\u2019ll be a story to tell out in Tara that Naisi is a tippler and\nstealer, and Ainnle the drawer of a stranger\u2019s cork.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _quite cheerfully, sitting down beside her._ \u2014 At your age you should\nknow there are nights when a king like Conchubor will spit upon his arm\nring, and queens will stick their tongues out at the rising moon. We\u2019re\nthat way this night, and it\u2019s not wine we\u2019re asking only. Where is the\nyoung girl told us we might shelter here?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nAsking me you\u2019d be? We\u2019re decent people, and I wouldn\u2019t put you\ntracking a young girl, not if you gave me the gold clasp you have\nhanging on your coat.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _giving it to her._ \u2014 Where is she?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _in confidential whisper, putting her hand on his arm._ \u2014 Let you\nwalk back into the hills and turn up by the second cnuceen where there\nare three together. You\u2019ll see a path running on the rocks and then\nyou\u2019ll hear the dogs barking in the houses, and their noise will guide\nyou till you come to a bit of cabin at the foot of an ash-tree. It\u2019s\nthere there is a young and flighty girl that I\u2019m thinking is the one\nyou\u2019ve seen.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _hilariously._ \u2014 Here\u2019s health, then, to herself and you!\n\nARDAN.\nHere\u2019s to the years when you were young as she!\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _in a frightened whisper._ \u2014 Naisi!\n\n[_Naisi looks up and Ainnle beckons to him. He goes over and Ainnle\npoints to something on the golden mug he holds in his hand._\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _looking at it in astonishment._ \u2014 This is the High King\u2019s. . . . I\nsee his mark on the rim. Does Conchubor come lodging here?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _jumping up with extreme annoyance._ \u2014 Who says it\u2019s Conchubor\u2019s? How\ndare young fools the like of you \u2014 (_speaking with vehement insolence_)\ncome prying around, running the world into troubles for some slip of a\ngirl? What brings you this place straying from Emain? (_Very\nbitterly._) Though you think, maybe, young men can do their fill of\nfoolery and there is none to blame them.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _very soberly._ \u2014 Is the rain easing?\n\nARDAN.\nThe clouds are breaking. . . . I can see Orion in the gap of the glen.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _still cheerfully._ \u2014 Open the door and we\u2019ll go forward to the\nlittle cabin between the ash-tree and the rocks. Lift the bolt and pull\nit.\n\n[_Deirdre comes in on left royally dressed and very beautiful. She\nstands for a moment, and then as the door opens she calls softly._\n\nDEIRDRE.\nNaisi! Do not leave me, Naisi. I am Deirdre of the Sorrows.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _transfixed with amazement._ \u2014 And it is you who go around in the\nwoods making the thrushes bear a grudge against the heavens for the\nsweetness of your voice singing.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt is with me you\u2019ve spoken, surely. (_To Lavarcham and Old Woman._)\nTake Ainnle and Ardan, these two princes, into the little hut where we\neat, and serve them with what is best and sweetest. I have many things\nfor Naisi only.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _overawed by her tone._ \u2014 I will do it, and I ask their pardon. I\nhave fooled them here.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _to Ainnle and Ardan._ \u2014 Do not take it badly that I am asking you to\nwalk into our hut for a little. You will have a supper that is cooked\nby the cook of Conchubor, and Lavarcham will tell you stories of Maeve\nand Nessa and Rogh.\n\nAINNLE.\nWe\u2019ll ask Lavarcham to tell us stories of yourself, and with that we\u2019ll\nbe well pleased to be doing your wish.\n\n[_They all go out except Deirdre and Naisi._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _sitting in the high chair in the centre._ \u2014 Come to this stool,\nNaisi (_pointing to the stool_). If it\u2019s low itself the High King would\nsooner be on it this night than on the throne of Emain Macha.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _sitting down._ \u2014 You are Fedlimid\u2019s daughter that Conchubor has\nwalled up from all the men of Ulster.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nDo many know what is foretold, that Deirdre will be the ruin of the\nSons of Usna, and have a little grave by herself, and a story will be\ntold for ever?\n\nNAISI.\nIt\u2019s a long while men have been talking of Deirdre, the child who had\nall gifts, and the beauty that has no equal; there are many know it,\nand there are kings would give a great price to be in my place this\nnight and you grown to a queen.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt isn\u2019t many I\u2019d call, Naisi. . . . I was in the woods at the full\nmoon and I heard a voice singing. Then I gathered up my skirts, and I\nran on a little path I have to the verge of a rock, and I saw you pass\nby underneath, in your crimson cloak, singing a song, and you standing\nout beyond your brothers are called the Plower of Ireland.\n\nNAISI.\nIt\u2019s for that you called us in the dusk?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _in a low voice._ \u2014 Since that, Naisi, I have been one time the like\nof a ewe looking for a lamb that had been taken away from her, and one\ntime seeing new gold on the stars, and a new face on the moon, and all\ntimes dreading Emain.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _pulling himself together and beginning to draw back a little._ \u2014 Yet\nit should be a lonesome thing to be in this place and you born for\ngreat company.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _softly._ \u2014 This night I have the best company in the whole world.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _still a little formally._ \u2014 It is I who have the best company, for\nwhen you\u2019re queen in Emain you will have none to be your match or\nfellow.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI will not be queen in Emain.\n\nNAISI.\nConchubor has made an oath you will, surely.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt\u2019s for that maybe I\u2019m called Deirdre, the girl of many sorrows . . .\nfor it\u2019s a sweet life you and I could have, Naisi. . . . . It should be\na sweet thing to have what is best and richest, if it\u2019s for a short\nspace only.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _very distressed._ \u2014 And we\u2019ve a short space only to be triumphant\nand brave.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nYou must not go, Naisi, and leave me to the High King, a man is aging\nin his dun, with his crowds round him, and his silver and gold. (_More\nquickly._) I will not live to be shut up in Emain, and wouldn\u2019t we do\nwell paying, Naisi, with silence and a near death. (_She stands up and\nwalks away from him._) I\u2019m a long while in the woods with my own self,\nand I\u2019m in little dread of death, and it earned with riches would make\nthe sun red with envy, and he going up the heavens; and the moon pale\nand lonesome, and she wasting away. (_She comes to him and puts her\nhands on his shoulders._) Isn\u2019t it a small thing is foretold about the\nruin of ourselves, Naisi, when all men have age coming and great ruin\nin the end?\n\nNAISI.\nYet it\u2019s a poor thing it\u2019s I should bring you to a tale of blood and\nbroken bodies, and the filth of the grave. . . . Wouldn\u2019t we do well to\nwait, Deirdre, and I each twilight meeting you on the sides of the\nhills?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _despondently._ \u2014 His messengers are coming.\n\nNAISI.\nMessengers are coming?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nTomorrow morning or the next, surely.\n\nNAISI.\nThen we\u2019ll go away. It isn\u2019t I will give your like to Conchubor, not if\nthe grave was dug to be my lodging when a week was by. (_He looks\nout._) The stars are out, Deirdre, and let you come with me quickly,\nfor it is the stars will be our lamps many nights and we abroad in\nAlban, and taking our journeys among the little islands in the sea.\nThere has never been the like of the joy we\u2019ll have, Deirdre, you and\nI, having our fill of love at the evening and the morning till the sun\nis high.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nAnd yet I\u2019m in dread leaving this place, where I have lived always.\nWon\u2019t I be lonesome and I thinking on the little hill beyond, and the\napple-trees do be budding in the spring-time by the post of the door?\n(_A little shaken by what has passed._) Won\u2019t I be in great dread to\nbring you to destruction, Naisi, and you so happy and young?\n\nNAISI.\nAre you thinking I\u2019d go on living after this night, Deirdre, and you\nwith Conchubor in Emain? Are you thinking I\u2019d go out after hares when\nI\u2019ve had your lips in my sight?\n\n[_Lavarcham comes in as they cling to each other._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nAre you raving, Deirdre? Are you choosing this night to destroy the\nworld?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _very deliberately._ \u2014 It\u2019s Conchubor has chosen this night calling\nme to Emain. (_To Naisi._) Bring in Ainnle and Ardan, and take me from\nthis place, where I\u2019m in dread from this out of the footsteps of a hare\npassing.\n\n[_He goes._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _clinging to Lavarcham._ \u2014 Do not take it bad I\u2019m going, Lavarcham.\nIt\u2019s you have been a good friend and given me great freedom and joy,\nand I living on Slieve Fuadh; and maybe you\u2019ll be well pleased one day\nsaying you have nursed Deirdre.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _moved._ \u2014 It isn\u2019t I\u2019ll be well pleased and I far away from you.\nIsn\u2019t it a hard thing you\u2019re doing, but who can help it? Birds go\nmating in the spring of the year, and ewes at the leaves falling, but a\nyoung girl must have her lover in all the courses of the sun and moon.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nWill you go to Emain in the morning?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI will not. I\u2019ll go to Brandon in the south; and in the course of a\npiece, maybe, I\u2019ll be sailing back and forward on the seas to be\nlooking on your face and the little ways you have that none can equal.\n\n[_Naisi comes back with Ainnle and Ardan and Old Woman._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _taking Naisi\u2019s hand._ \u2014 My two brothers, I am going with Naisi to\nAlban and the north to face the troubles are foretold. Will you take\nword to Conchubor in Emain?\n\nAINNLE.\nWe will go with you.\n\nARDAN.\nWe will be your servants and your huntsmen, Deirdre.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt isn\u2019t one brother only of you three is brave and courteous. Will you\nwed us, Lavarcham? You have the words and customs.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI will not, then. What would I want meddling in the ruin you will earn?\n\nNAISI.\nLet Ainnle wed us. . . . He has been with wise men and he knows their\nways.\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _joining their hands._ \u2014 By the sun and moon and the whole earth, I\nwed Deirdre to Naisi. (_He steps back and holds up his hands._) May the\nair bless you, and water and the wind, the sea, and all the hours of\nthe sun and moon.\n\n CURTAIN\n\n\n\nACT II.\n\n_Alban. Early morning in the beginning of winter. A wood outside the\ntent of Deirdre and Naisi. Lavarcham comes in muffled in a cloak._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _calling._ \u2014 Deirdre. . . . Deirdre. . . .\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _coming from tent._ \u2014 My welcome, Lavarcham. . . . Whose curagh is\nrowing from Ulster? I saw the oars through the tops of the trees, and I\nthought it was you were coming towards us.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI came in the shower was before dawn.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nAnd who is coming?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _mournfully._ \u2014 Let you not be startled or taking it bad, Deirdre.\nIt\u2019s Fergus bringing messages of peace from Conchubor to take Naisi and\nhis brothers back to Emain.\n\n[_Sitting down._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _lightly._ \u2014 Naisi and his brothers are well pleased with this place;\nand what would take them back to Conchubor in Ulster?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nTheir like would go any place where they\u2019d see death standing. (_With\nmore agitation._) I\u2019m in dread Conchubor wants to have yourself and to\nkill Naisi, and that that\u2019ll be the ruin of the Sons of Usna. I\u2019m\nsilly, maybe, to be dreading the like, but those have a great love for\nyourself have a right to be in dread always.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _more anxiously._ \u2014 Emain should be no safe place for myself and\nNaisi. And isn\u2019t it a hard thing they\u2019ll leave us no peace, Lavarcham,\nand we so quiet in the woods?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _impressively._ \u2014 It\u2019s a hard thing, surely; but let you take my word\nand swear Naisi, by the earth, and the sun over it, and the four\nquarters of the moon, he\u2019ll not go back to Emain \u2014 for good faith or\nbad faith \u2014 the time Conchubor\u2019s keeping the high throne of Ireland. .\n. . It\u2019s that would save you, surely.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _without hope._ \u2014 There\u2019s little power in oaths to stop what\u2019s\ncoming, and little power in what I\u2019d do, Lavarcham, to change the story\nof Conchubor and Naisi and the things old men foretold.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _aggressively._ \u2014 Was there little power in what you did the night\nyou dressed in your finery and ran Naisi off along with you, in spite\nof Conchubor and the big nobles did dread the blackness of your luck?\nIt was power enough you had that night to bring distress and anguish;\nand now I\u2019m pointing you a way to save Naisi, you\u2019ll not stir stick or\nstraw to aid me.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _a little haughtily._ \u2014 Let you not raise your voice against me,\nLavarcham, if you have will itself to guard Naisi.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _breaking out in anger._ \u2014 Naisi is it? I didn\u2019t care if the crows\nwere stripping his thigh-bones at the dawn of day. It\u2019s to stop your\nown despair and wailing, and you waking up in a cold bed, without the\nman you have your heart on, I am raging now. (_Starting up with\ntemper._) Yet there is more men than Naisi in it; and maybe I was a big\nfool thinking his dangers, and this day, would fill you up with dread.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _sharply._ \u2014 Let you end; such talking is a fool\u2019s only, when it\u2019s\nwell you know if a thing harmed Naisi it isn\u2019t I would live after him.\n(_With distress._) It\u2019s well you know it\u2019s this day I\u2019m dreading seven\nyears, and I fine nights watching the heifers walking to the haggard\nwith long shadows on the grass; (_with emotion_) or the time I\u2019ve been\nstretched in the sunshine, when I\u2019ve heard Ainnle and Ardan stepping\nlightly, and they saying: Was there ever the like of Deirdre for a\nhappy and sleepy queen?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _not fully pacified._ \u2014 And yet you\u2019ll go, and welcome is it, if\nNaisi chooses?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI\u2019ve dread going or staying, Lavarcham. It\u2019s lonesome this place,\nhaving happiness like ours, till I\u2019m asking each day will this day\nmatch yesterday, and will tomorrow take a good place beside the same\nday in the year that\u2019s gone, and wondering all times is it a game worth\nplaying, living on until you\u2019re dried and old, and our joy is gone for\never.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nIf it\u2019s that ails you, I tell you there\u2019s little hurt getting old,\nthough young girls and poets do be storming at the shapes of age.\n(_Passionately._) There\u2019s little hurt getting old, saving when you\u2019re\nlooking back, the way I\u2019m looking this day, and seeing the young you\nhave a love for breaking up their hearts with folly. (_Going to\nDeirdre._) Take my word and stop Naisi, and the day\u2019ll come you\u2019ll have\nmore joy having the senses of an old woman and you with your little\ngrandsons shrieking round you, than I\u2019d have this night putting on the\nred mouth and the white arms you have, to go walking lonesome byways\nwith a gamey king.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt\u2019s little joy of a young woman, or an old woman, I\u2019ll have from this\nday, surely. But what use is in our talking when there\u2019s Naisi on the\nforeshore, and Fergus with him?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _despairingly._ \u2014 I\u2019m late so with my warnings, for Fergus\u2019d talk the\nmoon over to take a new path in the sky. (_With reproach._) You\u2019ll not\nstop him this day, and isn\u2019t it a strange story you were a plague and\ntorment, since you were that height, to those did hang their lifetimes\non your voice. (_Overcome with trouble; gathering her cloak about\nher._) Don\u2019t think bad of my crying. I\u2019m not the like of many and I\u2019d\nsee a score of naked corpses and not heed them at all, but I\u2019m\ndestroyed seeing yourself in your hour of joy when the end is coming\nsurely.\n\n[_Owen comes in quickly, rather ragged, bows to Deirdre._\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _to Lavarcham._ \u2014 Fergus\u2019s men are calling you. You were seen on the\npath, and he and Naisi want you for their talk below.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _looking at him with dislike._ \u2014 Yourself\u2019s an ill-lucky thing to\nmeet a morning is the like of this. Yet if you are a spy itself I\u2019ll go\nand give my word that\u2019s wanting surely.\n\n[_Goes out._\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _to Deirdre._ \u2014 So I\u2019ve found you alone, and I after waiting three\nweeks getting ague and asthma in the chill of the bogs, till I saw\nNaisi caught with Fergus.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI\u2019ve heard news of Fergus; what brought you from Ulster?\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _who has been searching, finds a loaf and sits down eating greedily,\nand cutting it with a large knife._ \u2014 The full moon, I\u2019m thinking, and\nit squeezing the crack in my skull. Was there ever a man crossed nine\nwaves after a fool\u2019s wife and he not away in his head?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _absently._ \u2014 It should be a long time since you left Emain, where\nthere\u2019s civility in speech with queens.\n\nOWEN.\nIt\u2019s a long while, surely. It\u2019s three weeks I am losing my manners\nbeside the Saxon bull-frogs at the head of the bog. Three weeks is a\nlong space, and yet you\u2019re seven years spancelled with Naisi and the\npair.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _beginning to fold up her silks and jewels._ \u2014 Three weeks of your\ndays might be long, surely, yet seven years are a short space for the\nlike of Naisi and myself.\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _derisively._ \u2014 If they\u2019re a short space there aren\u2019t many the like\nof you. Wasn\u2019t there a queen in Tara had to walk out every morning till\nshe\u2019d meet a stranger and see the flame of courtship leaping up within\nhis eye? Tell me now, (_leaning towards her_) are you well pleased that\nlength with the same man snorting next you at the dawn of day?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _very quietly._ \u2014 Am I well pleased seven years seeing the same sun\nthrowing light across the branches at the dawn of day? It\u2019s a\nheartbreak to the wise that it\u2019s for a short space we have the same\nthings only. (_With contempt._) Yet the earth itself is a silly place,\nmaybe, when a man\u2019s a fool and talker.\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _sharply._ \u2014 Well, go, take your choice. Stay here and rot with Naisi\nor go to Conchubor in Emain. Conchubor\u2019s a wrinkled fool with a\nswelling belly on him, and eyes falling downward from his shining\ncrown; Naisi should be stale and weary. Yet there are many roads,\nDeirdre, and I tell you I\u2019d liefer be bleaching in a bog-hole than\nliving on without a touch of kindness from your eyes and voice. It\u2019s a\npoor thing to be so lonesome you\u2019d squeeze kisses on a cur dog\u2019s nose.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nAre there no women like yourself could be your friends in Emain?\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _vehemently._ \u2014 There are none like you, Deirdre. It\u2019s for that I\u2019m\nasking are you going back this night with Fergus?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI will go where Naisi chooses.\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _with a burst of rage._ \u2014 It\u2019s Naisi, Naisi, is it? Then, I tell you,\nyou\u2019ll have great sport one day seeing Naisi getting a harshness in his\ntwo sheep\u2019s eyes and he looking on yourself. Would you credit it, my\nfather used to be in the broom and heather kissing Lavarcham, with a\nlittle bird chirping out above their heads, and now she\u2019d scare a raven\nfrom a carcase on a hill. (_With a sad cry that brings dignity into his\nvoice._) Queens get old, Deirdre, with their white and long arms going\nfrom them, and their backs hooping. I tell you it\u2019s a poor thing to see\na queen\u2019s nose reaching down to scrape her chin.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _looking out, a little uneasy._ \u2014 Naisi and Fergus are coming on the\npath.\n\nOWEN.\nI\u2019ll go so, for if I had you seven years I\u2019d be jealous of the midges\nand the dust is in the air. (_Muffles himself in his cloak; with a sort\nof warning in his voice._) I\u2019ll give you a riddle, Deirdre: Why isn\u2019t\nmy father as ugly and old as Conchubor? You\u2019ve no answer? . . . . It\u2019s\nbecause Naisi killed him. (_With curious expression._) Think of that\nand you awake at night, hearing Naisi snoring, or the night you hear\nstrange stories of the things I\u2019m doing in Alban or in Ulster either.\n\n[_He goes out, and in a moment Naisi and Fergus come in on the other\nside._\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _gaily._ \u2014 Fergus has brought messages of peace from Conchubor.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _greeting Fergus._ \u2014 He is welcome. Let you rest, Fergus, you should\nbe hot and thirsty after mounting the rocks.\n\nFERGUS.\nIt\u2019s a sunny nook you\u2019ve found in Alban; yet any man would be well\npleased mounting higher rocks to fetch yourself and Naisi back to\nEmain.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _with keenness._ \u2014 They\u2019ve answered? They would go?\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _benignly._ \u2014 They have not, but when I was a young man we\u2019d have\ngiven a lifetime to be in Ireland a score of weeks; and to this day the\nold men have nothing so heavy as knowing it\u2019s in a short while they\u2019ll\nlose the high skies are over Ireland, and the lonesome mornings with\nbirds crying on the bogs. Let you come this day, for there\u2019s no place\nbut Ireland where the Gael can have peace always.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _gruffly._ \u2014 It\u2019s true, surely. Yet we\u2019re better this place while\nConchubor\u2019s in Emain Macha.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _giving him parchments._ \u2014 There are your sureties and Conchubor\u2019s\nseal. (_To Deirdre._) I am your surety with Conchubor. You\u2019ll not be\nyoung always, and it\u2019s time you were making yourselves ready for the\nyears will come, building up a homely dun beside the seas of Ireland,\nand getting in your children from the princes\u2019 wives. It\u2019s little joy\nwandering till age is on you and your youth is gone away, so you\u2019d best\ncome this night, for you\u2019d have great pleasure putting out your foot\nand saying, \u201cI am in Ireland, surely.\u201d\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt isn\u2019t pleasure I\u2019d have while Conchubor is king in Emain.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _almost annoyed._ \u2014 Would you doubt the seals of Conall Cearneach and\nthe kings of Meath? (_He gets parchments from his cloak and gives them\nto Naisi. More gently._) It\u2019s easy being fearful and you alone in the\nwoods, yet it would be a poor thing if a timid woman (_taunting her a\nlittle_) could turn away the Sons of Usna from the life of kings. Let\nyou be thinking on the years to come, Deirdre, and the way you\u2019d have a\nright to see Naisi a high and white-haired justice beside some king of\nEmain. Wouldn\u2019t it be a poor story if a queen the like of you should\nhave no thought but to be scraping up her hours dallying in the\nsunshine with the sons of kings?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _turning away a little haughtily._ \u2014 I leave the choice to Naisi.\n(_Turning back towards Fergus._) Yet you\u2019d do well, Fergus, to go on\nyour own way, for the sake of your own years, so you\u2019ll not be saying\ntill your hour of death, maybe, it was yourself brought Naisi and his\nbrothers to a grave was scooped by treachery.\n\n[_Goes into tent._\n\nFERGUS.\nIt is a poor thing to see a queen so lonesome and afraid. (_He watches\ntill he is sure Deirdre cannot hear him._) Listen now to what I\u2019m\nsaying. You\u2019d do well to come back to men and women are your match and\ncomrades, and not be lingering until the day that you\u2019ll grow weary,\nand hurt Deirdre showing her the hardness will grow up within your\neyes. . . . You\u2019re here years and plenty to know it\u2019s truth I\u2019m saying.\n\n[_Deirdre comes out of tent with a horn of wine, she catches the\nbeginning of Naisi\u2019s speech and stops with stony wonder._\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _very thoughtfully._ \u2014 I\u2019ll not tell you a lie. There have been days\na while past when I\u2019ve been throwing a line for salmon or watching for\nthe run of hares, that I\u2019ve a dread upon me a day\u2019d come I\u2019d weary of\nher voice, (_very slowly_) and Deirdre\u2019d see I\u2019d wearied.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _sympathetic but triumphant._ \u2014 I knew it, Naisi. . . . And take my\nword, Deirdre\u2019s seen your dread and she\u2019ll have no peace from this out\nin the woods.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _with confidence._ \u2014 She\u2019s not seen it. . . . Deirdre\u2019s no thought of\ngetting old or wearied; it\u2019s that puts wonder in her days, and she with\nspirits would keep bravery and laughter in a town with plague.\n\n[_Deirdre drops the horn of wine and crouches down where she is._\n\nFERGUS.\nThat humour\u2019ll leave her. But we\u2019ve no call going too far, with one\nword borrowing another. Will you come this night to Emain Macha?\n\nNAISI.\nI\u2019ll not go, Fergus. I\u2019ve had dreams of getting old and weary, and\nlosing my delight in Deirdre; but my dreams were dreams only. What are\nConchubor\u2019s seals and all your talk of Emain and the fools of Meath\nbeside one evening in Glen Masain? We\u2019ll stay this place till our lives\nand time are worn out. It\u2019s that word you may take in your curagh to\nConchubor in Emain.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _gathering up his parchments._ \u2014 And you won\u2019t go, surely.\n\nNAISI.\nI will not. . . . I\u2019ve had dread, I tell you, dread winter and summer,\nand the autumn and the springtime, even when there\u2019s a bird in every\nbush making his own stir till the fall of night; but this talk\u2019s\nbrought me ease, and I see we\u2019re as happy as the leaves on the young\ntrees, and we\u2019ll be so ever and always, though we\u2019d live the age of the\neagle and the salmon and the crow of Britain.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _with anger._ \u2014 Where are your brothers? My message is for them also.\n\nNAISI.\nYou\u2019ll see them above chasing otters by the stream.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _bitterly._ \u2014 It isn\u2019t much I was mistaken, thinking you were hunters\nonly.\n\n[_He goes, Naisi turns towards tent and sees Deirdre crouching down\nwith her cloak round her face. Deirdre comes out._\n\nNAISI.\nYou\u2019ve heard my words to Fergus? (_She does not answer. A pause. He\nputs his arm round her._) Leave troubling, and we\u2019ll go this night to\nGlen da Ruadh, where the salmon will be running with the tide.\n\n[_Crosses and sits down._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _in a very low voice._ \u2014 With the tide in a little while we will be\njourneying again, or it is our own blood maybe will be running away.\n(_She turns and clings to him._) The dawn and evening are a little\nwhile, the winter and the summer pass quickly, and what way would you\nand I, Naisi, have joy for ever?\n\nNAISI.\nWe\u2019ll have the joy is highest till our age is come, for it isn\u2019t\nFergus\u2019s talk of great deeds could take us back to Emain.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt isn\u2019t to great deeds you\u2019re going but to near troubles, and the\nshortening of your days the time that they are bright and sunny; and\nisn\u2019t it a poor thing that I, Deirdre, could not hold you away?\n\nNAISI.\nI\u2019ve said we\u2019d stay in Alban always.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nThere\u2019s no place to stay always. . . . It\u2019s a long time we\u2019ve had,\npressing the lips together, going up and down, resting in our arms,\nNaisi, waking with the smell of June in the tops of the grasses, and\nlistening to the birds in the branches that are highest. . . . It\u2019s a\nlong time we\u2019ve had, but the end has come, surely.\n\nNAISI.\nWould you have us go to Emain, though if any ask the reason we do not\nknow it, and we journeying as the thrushes come from the north, or\nyoung birds fly out on a dark sea?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nThere\u2019s reason all times for an end that\u2019s come. And I\u2019m well pleased,\nNaisi, we\u2019re going forward in the winter the time the sun has a low\nplace, and the moon has her mastery in a dark sky, for it\u2019s you and I\nare well lodged our last day, where there is a light behind the clear\ntrees, and the berries on the thorns are a red wall.\n\nNAISI.\nIf our time in this place is ended, come away without Ainnle and Ardan\nto the woods of the east, for it\u2019s right to be away from all people\nwhen two lovers have their love only. Come away and we\u2019ll be safe\nalways.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _broken-hearted._ \u2014 There\u2019s no safe place, Naisi, on the ridge of the\nworld. . . . . And it\u2019s in the quiet woods I\u2019ve seen them digging our\ngrave, throwing out the clay on leaves are bright and withered.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _still more eagerly._ \u2014 Come away, Deirdre, and it\u2019s little we\u2019ll\nthink of safety or the grave beyond it, and we resting in a little\ncorner between the daytime and the long night.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _clearly and gravely._ \u2014 It\u2019s this hour we\u2019re between the daytime and\na night where there is sleep for ever, and isn\u2019t it a better thing to\nbe following on to a near death, than to be bending the head down, and\ndragging with the feet, and seeing one day a blight showing upon love\nwhere it is sweet and tender.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _his voice broken with distraction._ \u2014 If a near death is coming what\nwill be my trouble losing the earth and the stars over it, and you,\nDeirdre, are their flame and bright crown? Come away into the safety of\nthe woods.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _shaking her head slowly._ \u2014 There are as many ways to wither love as\nthere are stars in a night of Samhain; but there is no way to keep\nlife, or love with it, a short space only. . . . It\u2019s for that there\u2019s\nnothing lonesome like a love is watching out the time most lovers do be\nsleeping. . . . It\u2019s for that we\u2019re setting out for Emain Macha when\nthe tide turns on the sand.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _giving in._ \u2014 You\u2019re right, maybe. It should be a poor thing to see\ngreat lovers and they sleepy and old.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _with a more tender intensity._ \u2014 We\u2019re seven years without roughness\nor growing weary; seven years so sweet and shining, the gods would be\nhard set to give us seven days the like of them. It\u2019s for that we\u2019re\ngoing to Emain, where there\u2019ll be a rest for ever, or a place for\nforgetting, in great crowds and they making a stir.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _very softly._ \u2014 We\u2019ll go, surely, in place of keeping a watch on a\nlove had no match and it wasting away. (_They cling to each other for a\nmoment, then Naisi looks up._) There are Fergus and Lavarcham and my\ntwo brothers.\n\n[_Deirdre goes. Naisi sits with his head bowed. Owen runs in\nstealthily, comes behind Naisi and seizes him round the arms. Naisi\nshakes him off and whips out his sword._\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _screaming with derisive laughter and showing his empty hands._ \u2014 Ah,\nNaisi, wasn\u2019t it well I didn\u2019t kill you that time? There was a fright\nyou got! I\u2019ve been watching Fergus above \u2014 don\u2019t be frightened \u2014 and\nI\u2019ve come down to see him getting the cold shoulder, and going off\nalone.\n\n[_Fergus and others come in. They are all subdued like men at a queen\u2019s\nwake._\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _putting up his sword._ \u2014 There he is. (_Goes to Fergus._) We are\ngoing back when the tide turns, I and Deirdre with yourself.\n\nALL.\nGoing back!\n\nAINNLE.\nAnd you\u2019ll end your life with Deirdre, though she has no match for\nkeeping spirits in a little company is far away by itself?\n\nARDAN.\nIt\u2019s seven years myself and Ainnle have been servants and bachelors for\nyourself and Deirdre. Why will you take her back to Conchubor?\n\nNAISI.\nI have done what Deirdre wishes and has chosen.\n\nFERGUS.\nYou\u2019ve made a choice wise men will be glad of in the five ends of\nIreland.\n\nOWEN.\nWise men is it, and they going back to Conchubor? I could stop them\nonly Naisi put in his sword among my father\u2019s ribs, and when a man\u2019s\ndone that he\u2019ll not credit your oath. Going to Conchubor! I could tell\nof plots and tricks, and spies were well paid for their play. (_He\nthrows up a bag of gold._) Are you paid, Fergus?\n\n[_He scatters gold pieces over Fergus._\n\nFERGUS.\nHe is raving. . . . Seize him.\n\nOWEN.\n\u2014 _flying between them._ \u2014 You won\u2019t. Let the lot of you be off to\nEmain, but I\u2019ll be off before you. . . . Dead men, dead men! Men who\u2019ll\ndie for Deirdre\u2019s beauty; I\u2019ll be before you in the grave!\n\n[_Runs out with his knife in his hand. They all run after him except\nLavarcham, who looks out and then clasps her hands. Deirdre comes out\nto her in a dark cloak._\n\nDEIRDRE.\nWhat has happened?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nIt\u2019s Owen\u2019s gone raging mad, and he\u2019s after splitting his gullet beyond\nat the butt of the stone. There was ill luck this day in his eye. And\nhe knew a power if he\u2019d said it all.\n\n[_Naisi comes back quickly, followed by the others._\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _coming in very excited._ \u2014 That man knew plots of Conchubor\u2019s. We\u2019ll\nnot go to Emain, where Conchubor may love her and have hatred for\nyourself.\n\nFERGUS.\nWould you mind a fool and raver?\n\nAINNLE.\nIt\u2019s many times there\u2019s more sense in madmen than the wise. We will not\nobey Conchubor.\n\nNAISI.\nI and Deirdre have chosen; we will go back with Fergus.\n\nARDAN.\nWe will not go back. We will burn your curaghs by the sea.\n\nFERGUS.\nMy sons and I will guard them.\n\nAINNLE.\nWe will blow the horn of Usna and our friends will come to aid us.\n\nNAISI.\nIt is my friends will come.\n\nAINNLE.\nYour friends will bind your hands, and you out of your wits.\n\n[_Deirdre comes forward quickly and comes between Ainnle and Naisi._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _in a low voice._ \u2014 For seven years the Sons of Usna have not raised\ntheir voices in a quarrel.\n\nAINNLE.\nWe will not take you to Emain.\n\nARDAN.\nIt is Conchubor has broken our peace.\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _to Deirdre._ \u2014 Stop Naisi going. What way would we live if Conchubor\nshould take you from us?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nThere is no one could take me from you. I have chosen to go back with\nFergus. Will you quarrel with me, Ainnle, though I have been your queen\nthese seven years in Alban?\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _subsiding suddenly._ \u2014 Naisi has no call to take you.\n\nARDAN.\nWhy are you going?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _to both of them and the others._ \u2014 It is my wish. . . . It may be I\nwill not have Naisi growing an old man in Alban with an old woman at\nhis side, and young girls pointing out and saying, \u201cthat is Deirdre and\nNaisi had great beauty in their youth.\u201d It may be we do well putting a\nsharp end to the day is brave and glorious, as our fathers put a sharp\nend to the days of the kings of Ireland; or that I\u2019m wishing to set my\nfoot on Slieve Fuadh, where I was running one time and leaping the\nstreams, (_to Lavarcham_) and that I\u2019d be well pleased to see our\nlittle apple-trees, Lavarcham, behind our cabin on the hill; or that\nI\u2019ve learned, Fergus, it\u2019s a lonesome thing to be away from Ireland\nalways.\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _giving in._ \u2014 There is no place but will be lonesome to us from this\nout, and we thinking on our seven years in Alban.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _to Naisi._ \u2014 It\u2019s in this place we\u2019d be lonesome in the end. . . .\nTake down Fergus to the sea. He has been a guest had a hard welcome and\nhe bringing messages of peace.\n\nFERGUS.\nWe will make your curagh ready and it fitted for the voyage of a king.\n\n[_He goes with Naisi._\n\nDEIRDRE.\nTake your spears, Ainnle and Ardan, and go down before me, and take\nyour horse-boys to be carrying my cloaks are on the threshold.\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _obeying._ \u2014 It\u2019s with a poor heart we\u2019ll carry your things this day\nwe have carried merrily so often, and we hungry and cold.\n\n[_They gather up things and go out._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _to Lavarcham._ \u2014 Go you, too, Lavarcham. You are old, and I will\nfollow quickly.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI\u2019m old, surely, and the hopes I had my pride in are broken and torn.\n\n[_She goes out, with a look of awe at Deirdre._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _clasping her hands._ \u2014 Woods of Cuan, woods of Cuan, dear country of\nthe east! It\u2019s seven years we\u2019ve had a life was joy only, and this day\nwe\u2019re going west, this day we\u2019re facing death, maybe, and death should\nbe a poor, untidy thing, though it\u2019s a queen that dies.\n\n[_She goes out slowly._\n\n CURTAIN\n\n\n\nACT III.\n\n_Tent below Emain, with shabby skins and benches. There is an opening\nat each side and at back, the latter closed. Old Woman comes in with\nfood and fruits and arranges them on table. Conchubor comes in on\nright._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _sharply._ \u2014 Has no one come with news for me?\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nI\u2019ve seen no one at all, Conchubor.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _watches her working for a moment, then makes sure opening at back is\nclosed._ \u2014 Go up then to Emain, you\u2019re not wanting here. (_A noise\nheard left._) Who is that?\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _going left._ \u2014 It\u2019s Lavarcham coming again. She\u2019s a great wonder for\njogging back and forward through the world, and I made certain she\u2019d be\noff to meet them; but she\u2019s coming alone, Conchubor, my dear child\nDeirdre isn\u2019t with her at all.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nGo up so and leave us.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _pleadingly._ \u2014 I\u2019d be well pleased to set my eyes on Deirdre if\nshe\u2019s coming this night, as we\u2019re told.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _impatiently._ \u2014 It\u2019s not long till you\u2019ll see her. But I\u2019ve matters\nwith Lavarcham, and let you go now, I\u2019m saying.\n\n[_He shows her out right, as Lavarcham comes in on the left._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _looking round her with suspicion._ \u2014 This is a queer place to find\nyou, and it\u2019s a queer place to be lodging Naisi and his brothers, and\nDeirdre with them, and the lot of us tired out with the long way we\nhave been walking.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nYou\u2019ve come along with them the whole journey?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI have, then, though I\u2019ve no call now to be wandering that length to a\nwedding or a burial, or the two together. (_She sits down wearily._)\nIt\u2019s a poor thing the way me and you is getting old, Conchubor, and I\u2019m\nthinking you yourself have no call to be loitering this place getting\nyour death, maybe, in the cold of night.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nI\u2019m waiting only to know is Fergus stopped in the north.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _more sharply._ \u2014 He\u2019s stopped, surely, and that\u2019s a trick has me\nthinking you have it in mind to bring trouble this night on Emain and\nIreland and the big world\u2019s east beyond them. (_She goes to him._) And\nyet you\u2019d do well to be going to your dun, and not putting shame on her\nmeeting the High King, and she seamed and sweaty and in great disorder\nfrom the dust of many roads. (_Laughing derisively._) Ah, Conchubor, my\nlad, beauty goes quickly in the woods, and you\u2019d let a great gasp, I\ntell you, if you set your eyes this night on Deirdre.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _fiercely._ \u2014 It\u2019s little I care if she\u2019s white and worn, for it\u2019s I\ndid rear her from a child. I should have a good right to meet and see\nher always.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nA good right is it? Haven\u2019t the blind a good right to be seeing, and\nthe lame to be dancing, and the dummies singing tunes? It\u2019s that right\nyou have to be looking for gaiety on Deirdre\u2019s lips. (_Coaxingly._)\nCome on to your dun, I\u2019m saying, and leave her quiet for one night\nitself.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _with sudden anger._ \u2014 I\u2019ll not go, when it\u2019s long enough I am above\nin my dun stretching east and west without a comrade, and I more needy,\nmaybe, than the thieves of Meath. . . . You think I\u2019m old and wise, but\nI tell you the wise know the old must die, and they\u2019ll leave no chance\nfor a thing slipping from them they\u2019ve set their blood to win.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _nodding her head._ \u2014 If you\u2019re old and wise, it\u2019s I\u2019m the same,\nConchubor, and I\u2019m telling you you\u2019ll not have her though you\u2019re ready\nto destroy mankind and skin the gods to win her. There\u2019s things a king\ncan\u2019t have, Conchubor, and if you go rampaging this night you\u2019ll be apt\nto win nothing but death for many, and a sloppy face of trouble on your\nown self before the day will come.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s too much talk you have. (_Goes right._) Where is Owen? Did you see\nhim no place and you coming the road?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI seen him surely. He went spying on Naisi, and now the worms is spying\non his own inside.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _exultingly._ \u2014 Naisi killed him?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nHe did not, then. It was Owen destroyed himself running mad because of\nDeirdre. Fools and kings and scholars are all one in a story with her\nlike, and Owen thought he\u2019d be a great man, being the first corpse in\nthe game you\u2019ll play this night in Emain.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s yourself should be the first corpse, but my other messengers are\ncoming, men from the clans that hated Usna.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _drawing back hopelessly._ \u2014 Then the gods have pity on us all!\n\n[_Men with weapons come in._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _to Soldiers._ \u2014 Are Ainnle and Ardan separate from Naisi?\n\nMEN.\nThey are, Conchubor. We\u2019ve got them off, saying they were needed to\nmake ready Deirdre\u2019s house.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nAnd Naisi and Deirdre are coming?\n\nSOLDIER.\nNaisi\u2019s coming, surely, and a woman with him is putting out the glory\nof the moon is rising and the sun is going down.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _looking at Lavarcham._ \u2014 That\u2019s your story that she\u2019s seamed and\nugly?\n\nSOLDIER.\nI have more news. (_Pointing to Lavarcham._) When that woman heard you\nwere bringing Naisi this place, she sent a horse-boy to call Fergus\nfrom the north.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _to Lavarcham._ \u2014 It\u2019s for that you\u2019ve been playing your tricks, but\nwhat you\u2019ve won is a nearer death for Naisi. (_To Soldiers._) Go up and\ncall my fighters, and take that woman up to Emain.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI\u2019d liefer stay this place. I\u2019ve done my best, but if a bad end is\ncoming, surely it would be a good thing maybe I was here to tend her.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _fiercely._ \u2014 Take her to Emain; it\u2019s too many tricks she\u2019s tried\nthis day already. (_A Soldier goes to her._)\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nDon\u2019t touch me. (_She puts her cloak round her and catches Conchubor\u2019s\narm._) I thought to stay your hand with my stories till Fergus would\ncome to be beside them, the way I\u2019d save yourself, Conchubor, and Naisi\nand Emain Macha; but I\u2019ll walk up now into your halls, and I\u2019ll say\n(_with a gesture_) it\u2019s here nettles will be growing, and beyond\nthistles and docks. I\u2019ll go into your high chambers, where you\u2019ve been\nfiguring yourself stretching out your neck for the kisses of a queen of\nwomen; and I\u2019ll say it\u2019s here there\u2019ll be deer stirring and goats\nscratching, and sheep waking and coughing when there is a great wind\nfrom the north. (_Shaking herself loose. Conchubor makes a sign to\nSoldiers._) I\u2019m going, surely. In a short space I\u2019ll be sitting up with\nmany listening to the flames crackling, and the beams breaking, and I\nlooking on the great blaze will be the end of Emain.\n\n[_She goes out._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _looking out._ \u2014 I see two people in the trees; it should be Naisi\nand Deirdre. (_To Soldier._) Let you tell them they\u2019ll lodge here\ntonight.\n\n[_Conchubor goes out right. Naisi and Deirdre come in on left, very\nweary._\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _to Soldiers._ \u2014 Is it this place he\u2019s made ready for myself and\nDeirdre?\n\nSOLDIER.\nThe Red Branch House is being aired and swept and you\u2019ll be called\nthere when a space is by; till then you\u2019d find fruits and drink on this\ntable, and so the gods be with you.\n\n[_Goes out right._\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _looking round._ \u2014 It\u2019s a strange place he\u2019s put us camping and we\ncome back as his friends.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nHe\u2019s likely making up a welcome for us, having curtains shaken out and\nrich rooms put in order; and it\u2019s right he\u2019d have great state to meet\nus, and you his sister\u2019s son.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _gloomily._ \u2014 It\u2019s little we want with state or rich rooms or\ncurtains, when we\u2019re used to the ferns only and cold streams and they\nmaking a stir.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _roaming round room._ \u2014 We want what is our right in Emain (_looking\nat hangings_), and though he\u2019s riches in store for us it\u2019s a shabby,\nragged place he\u2019s put us waiting, with frayed rugs and skins are eaten\nby the moths.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _a little impatiently._ \u2014 There are few would worry over skins and\nmoths on this first night that we\u2019ve come back to Emain.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _brightly._ \u2014 You should be well pleased it\u2019s for that I\u2019d worry all\ntimes, when it\u2019s I have kept your tent these seven years as tidy as a\nbee-hive or a linnet\u2019s nest. If Conchubor\u2019d a queen like me in Emain\nhe\u2019d not have stretched these rags to meet us. (_She pulls hanging, and\nit opens._) There\u2019s new earth on the ground and a trench dug. . . .\nIt\u2019s a grave, Naisi, that is wide and deep.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _goes over and pulls back curtain showing grave._ \u2014 And that\u2019ll be\nour home in Emain. . . . He\u2019s dug it wisely at the butt of a hill, with\nfallen trees to hide it. He\u2019ll want to have us killed and buried before\nFergus comes.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nTake me away. . . . Take me to hide in the rocks, for the night is\ncoming quickly.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _pulling himself together._ \u2014 I will not leave my brothers.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _vehemently._ \u2014 It\u2019s of us two he\u2019s jealous. Come away to the places\nwhere we\u2019re used to have our company. . . . Wouldn\u2019t it be a good thing\nto lie hid in the high ferns together? (_She pulls him left._) I hear\nstrange words in the trees.\n\nNAISI.\nIt should be the strange fighters of Conchubor. I saw them passing as\nwe came.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _pulling him towards the right._ \u2014 Come to this side. Listen, Naisi!\n\nNAISI.\nThere are more of them. . . . We are shut in, and I have not Ainnle and\nArdan to stand near me. Isn\u2019t it a hard thing that we three who have\nconquered many may not die together?\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _sinking down._ \u2014 And isn\u2019t it a hard thing that you and I are in\nthis place by our opened grave; though none have lived had happiness\nlike ours those days in Alban that went by so quick.\n\nNAISI.\nIt\u2019s a hard thing, surely, we\u2019ve lost those days for ever; and yet it\u2019s\na good thing, maybe, that all goes quick, for when I\u2019m in that grave\nit\u2019s soon a day\u2019ll come you\u2019ll be too wearied to be crying out, and\nthat day\u2019ll bring you ease.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI\u2019ll not be here to know if that is true.\n\nNAISI.\nIt\u2019s our three selves he\u2019ll kill tonight, and then in two months or\nthree you\u2019ll see him walking down for courtship with yourself.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI\u2019ll not be here.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _hard._ \u2014 You\u2019d best keep him off, maybe, and then, when the time\ncomes, make your way to some place west in Donegal, and it\u2019s there\nyou\u2019ll get used to stretching out lonesome at the fall of night, and\nwaking lonesome for the day.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nLet you not be saying things are worse than death.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _a little recklessly._ \u2014 I\u2019ve one word left. If a day comes in the\nwest that the larks are cocking their crests on the edge of the clouds,\nand the cuckoos making a stir, and there\u2019s a man you\u2019d fancy, let you\nnot be thinking that day I\u2019d be well pleased you\u2019d go on keening\nalways.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _turning to look at him._ \u2014 And if it was I that died, Naisi, would\nyou take another woman to fill up my place?\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _very mournfully._ \u2014 It\u2019s little I know, saving only that it\u2019s a hard\nand bitter thing leaving the earth, and a worse and harder thing\nleaving yourself alone and desolate to be making lamentation on its\nface always.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI\u2019ll die when you do, Naisi. I\u2019d not have come here from Alban but I\nknew I\u2019d be along with you in Emain, and you living or dead. . . . Yet\nthis night it\u2019s strange and distant talk you\u2019re making only.\n\nNAISI.\nThere\u2019s nothing, surely, the like of a new grave of open earth for\nputting a great space between two friends that love.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIf there isn\u2019t, it\u2019s that grave when it\u2019s closed will make us one for\never, and we two lovers have had great space without weariness or\ngrowing old or any sadness of the mind.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _coming in on right._ \u2014 I\u2019d bid you welcome, Naisi.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _standing up._ \u2014 You\u2019re welcome, Conchubor. I\u2019m well pleased you\u2019ve\ncome.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _blandly._ \u2014 Let you not think bad of this place where I\u2019ve put you\ntill other rooms are readied.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _breaking out._ \u2014 We know the room you\u2019ve readied. We know what\nstirred you to send your seals and Fergus into Alban and stop him in\nthe north, (_opening curtain and pointing to the grave_) and dig that\ngrave before us. Now I ask what brought you here?\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nI\u2019ve come to look on Deirdre.\n\nNAISI.\nLook on her. You\u2019re a knacky fancier, and it\u2019s well you chose the one\nyou\u2019d lure from Alban. Look on her, I tell you, and when you\u2019ve looked\nI\u2019ve got ten fingers will squeeze your mottled goose neck, though\nyou\u2019re king itself.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _coming between them._ \u2014 Hush, Naisi! Maybe Conchubor\u2019ll make peace.\n. . . Do not mind him, Conchubor; he has cause to rage.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s little I heed his raging, when a call would bring my fighters from\nthe trees. . . . But what do you say, Deirdre?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI\u2019ll say so near that grave we seem three lonesome people, and by a new\nmade grave there\u2019s no man will keep brooding on a woman\u2019s lips, or on\nthe man he hates. It\u2019s not long till your own grave will be dug in\nEmain, and you\u2019d go down to it more easy if you\u2019d let call Ainnle and\nArdan, the way we\u2019d have a supper all together, and fill that grave,\nand you\u2019ll be well pleased from this out, having four new friends the\nlike of us in Emain.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _looking at her for a moment._ \u2014 That\u2019s the first friendly word I\u2019ve\nheard you speaking, Deirdre. A game the like of yours should be the\nproper thing for softening the heart and putting sweetness in the\ntongue; and yet this night when I hear you I\u2019ve small blame left for\nNaisi that he stole you off from Ulster.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _to Naisi._ \u2014 Now, Naisi, answer gently, and we\u2019ll be friends\ntonight.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _doggedly._ \u2014 I have no call but to be friendly. I\u2019ll answer what you\nwill.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _taking Naisi\u2019s hand._ \u2014 Then you\u2019ll call Conchubor your friend and\nking, the man who reared me up upon Slieve Fuadh.\n\n[_As Conchubor is going to clasp Naisi\u2019s hand cries are heard behind._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nWhat noise is that?\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _behind._ \u2014 Naisi. . . . Naisi. Come to us; we are betrayed and\nbroken.\n\nNAISI.\nIt\u2019s Ainnle crying out in a battle.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nI was near won this night, but death\u2019s between us now.\n\n[_He goes out._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _clinging to Naisi._ \u2014 There is no battle. . . . Do not leave me,\nNaisi.\n\nNAISI.\nI must go to them.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _beseechingly._ \u2014 Do not leave me, Naisi. Let us creep up in the\ndarkness behind the grave. If there\u2019s a battle, maybe the strange\nfighters will be destroyed, when Ainnle and Ardan are against them.\n\n[_Cries heard._\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _wildly._ \u2014 I hear Ardan crying out. Do not hold me from my brothers.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nDo not leave me, Naisi. Do not leave me broken and alone.\n\nNAISI.\nI cannot leave my brothers when it is I who have defied the king.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI will go with you.\n\nNAISI.\nYou cannot come. Do not hold me from the fight.\n\n[_He throws her aside almost roughly._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _with restraint._ \u2014 Go to your brothers. For seven years you have\nbeen kindly, but the hardness of death has come between us.\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _looking at her aghast._ \u2014 And you\u2019ll have me meet death with a hard\nword from your lips in my ear?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nWe\u2019ve had a dream, but this night has waked us surely. In a little\nwhile we\u2019ve lived too long, Naisi, and isn\u2019t it a poor thing we should\nmiss the safety of the grave, and we trampling its edge?\n\nAINNLE.\n\u2014 _behind._ \u2014 Naisi, Naisi, we are attacked and ruined!\n\nDEIRDRE.\nLet you go where they are calling. (_She looks at him for an instant\ncoldly._) Have you no shame loitering and talking, and a cruel death\nfacing Ainnle and Ardan in the woods?\n\nNAISI.\n\u2014 _frantic._ \u2014 They\u2019ll not get a death that\u2019s cruel, and they with men\nalone. It\u2019s women that have loved are cruel only; and if I went on\nliving from this day I\u2019d be putting a curse on the lot of them I\u2019d meet\nwalking in the east or west, putting a curse on the sun that gave them\nbeauty, and on the madder and the stone-crop put red upon their cloaks.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _bitterly._ \u2014 I\u2019m well pleased there\u2019s no one in this place to make a\nstory that Naisi was a laughing-stock the night he died.\n\nNAISI.\nThere\u2019d not be many\u2019d make a story, for that mockery is in your eyes\nthis night will spot the face of Emain with a plague of pitted graves.\n\n[_He goes out._\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _outside._ \u2014 That is Naisi. Strike him! (_Tumult. Deirdre crouches\ndown on Naisi\u2019s cloak. Conchubor comes in hurriedly._) They\u2019ve met\ntheir death \u2014 the three that stole you, Deirdre, and from this out\nyou\u2019ll be my queen in Emain.\n\n[_A keen of men\u2019s voices is heard behind._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _bewildered and terrified._ \u2014 It is not I will be a queen.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nMake your lamentation a short while if you will, but it isn\u2019t long till\na day\u2019ll come when you begin pitying a man is old and desolate, and\nHigh King also. . . . Let you not fear me, for it\u2019s I\u2019m well pleased\nyou have a store of pity for the three that were your friends in Alban.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nI have pity, surely. . . . It\u2019s the way pity has me this night, when I\nthink of Naisi, that I could set my teeth into the heart of a king.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nI know well pity\u2019s cruel, when it was my pity for my own self destroyed\nNaisi.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _more wildly._ \u2014 It was my words without pity gave Naisi a death will\nhave no match until the ends of life and time. (_Breaking out into a\nkeen._) But who\u2019ll pity Deirdre has lost the lips of Naisi from her\nneck and from her cheek for ever? Who\u2019ll pity Deirdre has lost the\ntwilight in the woods with Naisi, when beech-trees were silver and\ncopper, and ash-trees were fine gold?\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _bewildered._ \u2014 It\u2019s I\u2019ll know the way to pity and care you, and I\nwith a share of troubles has me thinking this night it would be a good\nbargain if it was I was in the grave, and Deirdre crying over me, and\nit was Naisi who was old and desolate.\n\n[_Keen heard._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _wild with sorrow._ \u2014 It is I who am desolate; I, Deirdre, that will\nnot live till I am old.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s not long you\u2019ll be desolate, and I seven years saying, \u201cIt\u2019s a\nbright day for Deirdre in the woods of Alban\u201d; or saying again, \u201cWhat\nway will Deirdre be sleeping this night, and wet leaves and branches\ndriving from the north?\u201d Let you not break the thing I\u2019ve set my life\non, and you giving yourself up to your sorrow when it\u2019s joy and sorrow\ndo burn out like straw blazing in an east wind.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _turning on him._ \u2014 Was it that way with your sorrow, when I and\nNaisi went northward from Slieve Fuadh and let raise our sails for\nAlban?\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nThere\u2019s one sorrow has no end surely \u2014 that\u2019s being old and lonesome.\n(_With extraordinary pleading._) But you and I will have a little peace\nin Emain, with harps playing, and old men telling stories at the fall\nof night. I\u2019ve let build rooms for our two selves, Deirdre, with red\ngold upon the walls and ceilings that are set with bronze. There was\nnever a queen in the east had a house the like of your house, that\u2019s\nwaiting for yourself in Emain.\n\nSOLDIER \u2014 _running in._ \u2014 Emain is in flames. Fergus has come back and\nis setting fire to the world. Come up, Conchubor, or your state will be\ndestroyed!\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _angry and regal again._ \u2014 Are the Sons of Usna buried?\n\nSOLDIER.\nThey are in their grave, but no earth is thrown.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nLet me see them. Open the tent! (_Soldier opens back of tent and shows\ngrave._) Where are my fighters?\n\nSOLDIER.\nThey are gone to Emain.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _to Deirdre._ \u2014 There are none to harm you. Stay here until I come\nagain.\n\n[_Goes out with Soldier. Deirdre looks round for a moment, then goes up\nslowly and looks into grave. She crouches down and begins swaying\nherself backwards and forwards, keening softly. At first her words are\nnot heard, then they become clear._\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt\u2019s you three will not see age or death coming \u2014 you that were my\ncompany when the fires on the hill-tops were put out and the stars were\nour friends only. I\u2019ll turn my thoughts back from this night, that\u2019s\npitiful for want of pity, to the time it was your rods and cloaks made\na little tent for me where there\u2019d be a birch tree making shelter and a\ndry stone; though from this day my own fingers will be making a tent\nfor me, spreading out my hairs and they knotted with the rain.\n\n[_Lavarcham and Old Woman come in stealthily on right._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _not seeing them._ \u2014 It is I, Deirdre, will be crouching in a dark\nplace; I, Deirdre, that was young with Naisi, and brought sorrow to his\ngrave in Emain.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nIs that Deirdre broken down that was so light and airy?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nIt is, surely, crying out over their grave.\n\n[_She goes to Deirdre._\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt will be my share from this out to be making lamentation on his stone\nalways, and I crying for a love will be the like of a star shining on a\nlittle harbour by the sea.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _coming forward._ \u2014 Let you rise up, Deirdre, and come off while\nthere are none to heed us, the way I\u2019ll find you shelter and some\nfriend to guard you.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nTo what place would I go away from Naisi? What are the woods without\nNaisi or the sea shore?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _very coaxingly._ \u2014 If it is that way you\u2019d be, come till I find you\na sunny place where you\u2019ll be a great wonder they\u2019ll call the queen of\nsorrows; and you\u2019ll begin taking a pride to be sitting up pausing and\ndreaming when the summer comes.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt was the voice of Naisi that was strong in summer \u2014 the voice of\nNaisi that was sweeter than pipes playing, but from this day will be\ndumb always.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _to Old Woman._ \u2014 She doesn\u2019t heed us at all. We\u2019ll be hard set to\nrouse her.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nIf we don\u2019t the High King will rouse her, coming down beside her with\nthe rage of battle in his blood, for how could Fergus stand against\nhim?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _touching Deirdre with her hand._ \u2014 There\u2019s a score of woman\u2019s years\nin store for you, and you\u2019d best choose will you start living them\nbeside the man you hate, or being your own mistress in the west or\nsouth?\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt is not I will go on living after Ainnle and after Ardan. After Naisi\nI will not have a lifetime in the world.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\u2014 _with excitement._ \u2014 Look, Lavarcham! There\u2019s a light leaving the Red\nBranch. Conchubor and his lot will be coming quickly with a torch of\nbog-deal for her marriage, throwing a light on her three comrades.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _startled._ \u2014 Let us throw down clay on my three comrades. Let us\ncover up Naisi along with Ainnle and Ardan, they that were the pride of\nEmain. (_Throwing in clay._) There is Naisi was the best of three, the\nchoicest of the choice of many. It was a clean death was your share,\nNaisi; and it is not I will quit your head, when it\u2019s many a dark night\namong the snipe and plover that you and I were whispering together. It\nis not I will quit your head, Naisi, when it\u2019s many a night we saw the\nstars among the clear trees of Glen da Ruadh, or the moon pausing to\nrest her on the edges of the hills.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nConchubor is coming, surely. I see the glare of flames throwing a light\nupon his cloak.\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _eagerly._ \u2014 Rise up, Deirdre, and come to Fergus, or be the High\nKing\u2019s slave for ever!\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _imperiously._ \u2014 I will not leave Naisi, who has left the whole world\nscorched and desolate. I will not go away when there is no light in the\nheavens, and no flower in the earth under them, but is saying to me\nthat it is Naisi who is gone for ever.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _behind._ \u2014 She is here. Stay a little back. (_Lavarcham and Old\nWoman go into the shadow on left as Conchubor comes in. With\nexcitement, to Deirdre._) Come forward and leave Naisi the way I\u2019ve\nleft charred timber and a smell of burning in Emain Macha, and a heap\nof rubbish in the storehouse of many crowns.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _more awake to what is round her._ \u2014 What are crowns and Emain Macha,\nwhen the head that gave them glory is this place, Conchubor, and it\nstretched upon the gravel will be my bed tonight?\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nMake an end of talk of Naisi, for I\u2019ve come to bring you to Dundealgan\nsince Emain is destroyed.\n\n[_Conchubor makes a movement towards her._\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _with a tone that stops him._ \u2014 Draw a little back from Naisi, who is\nyoung for ever. Draw a little back from the white bodies I am putting\nunder a mound of clay and grasses that are withered \u2014 a mound will have\na nook for my own self when the end is come.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _roughly._ \u2014 Let you rise up and come along with me in place of\ngrowing crazy with your wailings here.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nIt\u2019s yourself has made a crazy story, and let you go back to your arms,\nConchubor, and to councils where your name is great, for in this place\nyou are an old man and a fool only.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIf I\u2019ve folly, I\u2019ve sense left not to lose the thing I\u2019ve bought with\nsorrow and the deaths of many.\n\n[_He moves towards her._\n\nDEIRDRE.\nDo not raise a hand to touch me.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nThere are other hands to touch you. My fighters are set round in among\nthe trees.\n\nDEIRDRE.\nWho\u2019ll fight the grave, Conchubor, and it opened on a dark night?\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _eagerly._ \u2014 There are steps in the wood. I hear the call of Fergus\nand his men.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _furiously._ \u2014 Fergus cannot stop me. I am more powerful than he is,\nthough I am defeated and old.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _comes in to Deirdre; a red glow is seen behind the grove._ \u2014 I have\ndestroyed Emain, and now I\u2019ll guard you all times, Deirdre, though it\nwas I, without knowledge, brought Naisi to his grave.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt\u2019s not you will guard her, for my whole armies are gathering. Rise\nup, Deirdre, for you are mine surely.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _coming between them._ \u2014 I am come between you.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _wildly._ \u2014 When I\u2019ve killed Naisi and his brothers, is there any man\nthat I will spare? And is it you will stand against me, Fergus, when\nit\u2019s seven years you\u2019ve seen me getting my death with rage in Emain?\n\nFERGUS.\nIt\u2019s I, surely, will stand against a thief and a traitor.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _stands up and sees the light from Emain._ \u2014 Draw a little back with\nthe squabbling of fools when I am broken up with misery. (_She turns\nround._) I see the flames of Emain starting upward in the dark night;\nand because of me there will be weasels and wild cats crying on a\nlonely wall where there were queens and armies and red gold, the way\nthere will be a story told of a ruined city and a raving king and a\nwoman will be young for ever. (_She looks round._) I see the trees\nnaked and bare, and the moon shining. Little moon, little moon of\nAlban, it\u2019s lonesome you\u2019ll be this night, and tomorrow night, and long\nnights after, and you pacing the woods beyond Glen Laoi, looking every\nplace for Deirdre and Naisi, the two lovers who slept so sweetly with\neach other.\n\nFERGUS.\n\u2014 _going to Conchubor\u2019s right and whispering._ \u2014 Keep back, or you will\nhave the shame of pushing a bolt on a queen who is out of her wits.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nIt is I who am out of my wits, with Emain in flames, and Deirdre\nraving, and my own heart gone within me.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _in a high and quiet tone._ \u2014 I have put away sorrow like a shoe that\nis worn out and muddy, for it is I have had a life that will be envied\nby great companies. It was not by a low birth I made kings uneasy, and\nthey sitting in the halls of Emain. It was not a low thing to be chosen\nby Conchubor, who was wise, and Naisi had no match for bravery. It is\nnot a small thing to be rid of grey hairs, and the loosening of the\nteeth. (_With a sort of triumph._) It was the choice of lives we had in\nthe clear woods, and in the grave, we\u2019re safe, surely. . . .\n\nCONCHUBOR.\nShe will do herself harm.\n\nDEIRDRE.\n\u2014 _showing Naisi\u2019s knife._ \u2014 I have a little key to unlock the prison\nof Naisi you\u2019d shut upon his youth for ever. Keep back, Conchubor; for\nthe High King who is your master has put his hands between us. (_She\nhalf turns to the grave._) It was sorrows were foretold, but great joys\nwere my share always; yet it is a cold place I must go to be with you,\nNaisi; and it\u2019s cold your arms will be this night that were warm about\nmy neck so often. . . . It\u2019s a pitiful thing to be talking out when\nyour ears are shut to me. It\u2019s a pitiful thing, Conchubor, you have\ndone this night in Emain; yet a thing will be a joy and triumph to the\nends of life and time.\n\n[_She presses knife into her heart and sinks into the grave. Conchubor\nand Fergus go forward. The red glow fades, leaving stage very dark._\n\nFERGUS.\nFour white bodies are laid down together; four clear lights are\nquenched in Ireland. (_He throws his sword into the grave._) There is\nmy sword that could not shield you \u2014 my four friends that were the\ndearest always. The flames of Emain have gone out: Deirdre is dead and\nthere is none to keen her. That is the fate of Deirdre and the children\nof Usna, and for this night, Conchubor, our war is ended.\n\n[_He goes out._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\nI have a little hut where you can rest, Conchubor; there is a great dew\nfalling.\n\nCONCHUBOR.\n\u2014 _with the voice of an old man._ \u2014 Take me with you. I\u2019m hard set to\nsee the way before me.\n\nOLD WOMAN.\nThis way, Conchubor.\n\n[_They go out._\n\nLAVARCHAM.\n\u2014 _beside the grave._ \u2014 Deirdre is dead, and Naisi is dead; and if the\noaks and stars could die for sorrow, it\u2019s a dark sky and a hard and\nnaked earth we\u2019d have this night in Emain.\n\n CURTAIN\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\nDEIRDRE OF THE SORROWS was first produced at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin,\non Thursday, January 13th, 1910, with the following cast:\n\n_Lavarcham_ SARA ALLGOOD\n\n_Old Woman_ EILEEN O\u2019DOHERTY\n\n_Owen_ J. A. O\u2019ROURKE\n\n_Conchubor_ ARTHUR SINCLAIR\n\n_Fergus_ SYDNEY J. MORGAN\n\n_Deirdre_ MAIRE O\u2019NEILL\n\n_Naisi_ FRED O\u2019DONOVAN\n\n_Ainnle_ J. M. KERRIGAN\n\n_Ardan_ JOHN CARRICK\n\n_Two Soldiers_ {HARRY YOUNG\n{AMBROSE POWER\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s Note.\n\nI have omitted running heads, have inserted a blank space between the\n\u201c.\u201d and the \u201c\u2014\u201d following stage directions immediately following the\nname of the speaker, and have made the following additional changes to\nthe text:\n\n\n\n\nPAGE  LINE  ORIGINAL          CHANGED TO\n16    26  its               it\u2019s\n29    23  DEIRDRE           DEIRDRE.\n33    17  old Woman.        Old Woman.\n45    18  his brother       his brothers\n79    14  Naisi             Naisi.\n87     5  startled          startled.","title":"Deirdre of the Sorrows","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":16119}