CONCOBAR--If her thoughts turned only to the Sidhe her heart would grow cold to the light love that warriors give. The birds of Angus cannot breathe or sing their maddening song in the chill air that enfolds the wise. For this, Druidess, I made thee her fosterer. Has she learned to know the beauty of the ever-living ones, after which the earth fades and no voice can call us back? LAVARCAM--The immortals have appeared to her in vision and looked on her with eyes of love. CONCOBAR--Her beauty is so great it would madden whole hosts, and turn them from remembrance of their duty. We must guard well the safety of the Red Branch. Druidess, you have seen with subtle eyes the shining life beyond this. But through the ancient traditions of Ulla, which the bards have kept and woven into song, I have seen the shining law enter men's minds, and subdue the lawless into love of justice. A great tradition is shaping a heroic race; and the gods who fought at Moytura are descending and dwelling in the heart of the Red Branch. Deeds will be done in our time as mighty as those wrought by the giants who battled at the dawn; and through the memory of our days and deeds the gods will build themselves an eternal empire in the mind of the Gael. Wise woman, guard well this beauty which fills my heart with terror. I go now, and will doubly warn the spearmen at the passes, but will come hither again and speak with thee of these things, and with Deirdre I would speak also. LAVARCAM--King of Ulla, be at peace. It is not I who will break through the design of the gods. (CONCOBAR goes through the woods, after looking for a time at the door of the dun.) But Deirdre is also one of the immortals. What the gods desire will utter itself through her heart. I will seek counsel from the gods. [DEIRDRE comes slowly through the door.] DEIRDRE--Is he gone? I fear this stony king with his implacable eyes. LAVARVAM--He is implacable only in his desire for justice. DEIRDRE--No! No! There is a hunger in his eyes for I know not what. LAVARCAM--He is the wisest king who ever sat on the chair of Macha. DEIRDRE--He has placed a burden on my heart. Oh! fostermother, the harp of life is already trembling into sorrow! LAVARCAM--Do not think of him. Tell me your dream, my child. [DEIRDRE comes from the door of the dun and sits on a deerskin at LAVARCAM's feet.] DEIRDRE--Tell me, do happy dreams bring happiness, and do our dreams of the Sidhe ever grow real to us as you are real to me? Do their eyes draw nigh to ours, and can the heart we dream of ever be a refuge for our hearts. LAVARCAM--Tell me your dream. DEIRDRE--Nay; but answer first of all, dear fostermother--you who are wise, and who have talked with the Sidhe. LAVARCAM--Would it make you happy to have your dream real, my darling? DEIRDRE--Oh, it would make me happy! [She hides her face on LAVARCAM's knees.] LAVARCAM--If I can make your dream real, I will, my beautiful fawn.