NAISI. I will not. . . . I’ve had dread, I tell you, dread winter and summer, and the autumn and the springtime, even when there’s a bird in every bush making his own stir till the fall of night; but this talk’s brought me ease, and I see we’re as happy as the leaves on the young trees, and we’ll be so ever and always, though we’d live the age of the eagle and the salmon and the crow of Britain. FERGUS. — _with anger._ — Where are your brothers? My message is for them also. NAISI. You’ll see them above chasing otters by the stream. FERGUS. — _bitterly._ — It isn’t much I was mistaken, thinking you were hunters only. [_He goes, Naisi turns towards tent and sees Deirdre crouching down with her cloak round her face. Deirdre comes out._ NAISI. You’ve heard my words to Fergus? (_She does not answer. A pause. He puts his arm round her._) Leave troubling, and we’ll go this night to Glen da Ruadh, where the salmon will be running with the tide. [_Crosses and sits down._ DEIRDRE. — _in a very low voice._ — With the tide in a little while we will be journeying again, or it is our own blood maybe will be running away. (_She turns and clings to him._) The dawn and evening are a little while, the winter and the summer pass quickly, and what way would you and I, Naisi, have joy for ever? NAISI. We’ll have the joy is highest till our age is come, for it isn’t Fergus’s talk of great deeds could take us back to Emain. DEIRDRE. It isn’t to great deeds you’re going but to near troubles, and the shortening of your days the time that they are bright and sunny; and isn’t it a poor thing that I, Deirdre, could not hold you away? NAISI. I’ve said we’d stay in Alban always. DEIRDRE. There’s no place to stay always. . . . It’s a long time we’ve had, pressing the lips together, going up and down, resting in our arms, Naisi, waking with the smell of June in the tops of the grasses, and listening to the birds in the branches that are highest. . . . It’s a long time we’ve had, but the end has come, surely. NAISI. Would you have us go to Emain, though if any ask the reason we do not know it, and we journeying as the thrushes come from the north, or young birds fly out on a dark sea? DEIRDRE. There’s reason all times for an end that’s come. And I’m well pleased, Naisi, we’re going forward in the winter the time the sun has a low place, and the moon has her mastery in a dark sky, for it’s you and I are well lodged our last day, where there is a light behind the clear trees, and the berries on the thorns are a red wall. NAISI. If our time in this place is ended, come away without Ainnle and Ardan to the woods of the east, for it’s right to be away from all people when two lovers have their love only. Come away and we’ll be safe always. DEIRDRE. — _broken-hearted._ — There’s no safe place, Naisi, on the ridge of the world. . . . . And it’s in the quiet woods I’ve seen them digging our grave, throwing out the clay on leaves are bright and withered.