After the first performance of this play in the autumn of 1906, I rewrote the play up to the opening of the scene where Naisi and Deirdre play chess. The new version was played in the spring of 1907, and after that I rewrote from the entrance of Deirdre to her questioning the musicians, but felt, though despairing of setting it right, that it was still mere bones, mere dramatic logic. The principal difficulty with the form of dramatic structure I have adopted is that, unlike the loose Elizabethan form, it continually forces one by its rigour of logic away from one’s capacities, experiences, and desires, until, if one have not patience to wait for the mood, or to rewrite again and again till it comes, there is rhetoric and logic and dry circumstance where there should be life. After the version printed in the text of this book had gone to press, Mrs. Patrick Campbell came to our Abbey Theatre and, liking what she saw there, offered to come and play Deirdre among us next November, and this so stirred my imagination that the scene came right in a moment. It needs some changes in the stage directions at the beginning of the play. There is no longer need for loaf and flagon, but the women at the braziers should when the curtain rises be arraying themselves—the one holding a mirror for the other perhaps. The play then goes on unchanged till the entrance of Deirdre, when the following scene is substituted for that on pages 139-140. (Bodb is pronounced Bove.) _DEIRDRE, NAISI and FERGUS enter. DEIRDRE is carrying a little embroidered bag. She goes over towards the women._ DEIRDRE. Silence your music, though I thank you for it; But the wind’s blown upon my hair, and I Must set the jewels on my neck and head For one that’s coming. NAISI. Your colour has all gone As ’twere with fear, and there’s no cause for that. DEIRDRE. These women have the raddle that they use To make them brave and confident, although Dread, toil or cold may chill the blood o’ their cheeks. You’ll help me, women. It is my husband’s will I show my trust in one that may be here Before the mind can call the colour up. My husband took these rubies from a king Of Surracha that was so murderous He seemed all glittering dragon. Now wearing them Myself wars on myself, for I myself— That do my husband’s will, yet fear to do it— Grow dragonish to myself. [_The _Women_ have gathered about her. NAISI has stood looking at her, but FERGUS leads him to the chess-table._ FERGUS. We’ll play at chess Till the king come. It is but natural That she should fear him, for her house has been The hole of the badger and the den of the fox. NAISI. If I were childish and had faith in omens I’d rather not have lit on that old chessboard At my homecoming. FERGUS.