CONCHUBOR. Let me see them. Open the tent! (_Soldier opens back of tent and shows grave._) Where are my fighters? SOLDIER. They are gone to Emain. CONCHUBOR. — _to Deirdre._ — There are none to harm you. Stay here until I come again. [_Goes out with Soldier. Deirdre looks round for a moment, then goes up slowly and looks into grave. She crouches down and begins swaying herself backwards and forwards, keening softly. At first her words are not heard, then they become clear._ DEIRDRE. It’s you three will not see age or death coming — you that were my company when the fires on the hill-tops were put out and the stars were our friends only. I’ll turn my thoughts back from this night, that’s pitiful for want of pity, to the time it was your rods and cloaks made a little tent for me where there’d be a birch tree making shelter and a dry stone; though from this day my own fingers will be making a tent for me, spreading out my hairs and they knotted with the rain. [_Lavarcham and Old Woman come in stealthily on right._ DEIRDRE. — _not seeing them._ — It is I, Deirdre, will be crouching in a dark place; I, Deirdre, that was young with Naisi, and brought sorrow to his grave in Emain. OLD WOMAN. Is that Deirdre broken down that was so light and airy? LAVARCHAM. It is, surely, crying out over their grave. [_She goes to Deirdre._ DEIRDRE. It will be my share from this out to be making lamentation on his stone always, and I crying for a love will be the like of a star shining on a little harbour by the sea. LAVARCHAM. — _coming forward._ — Let you rise up, Deirdre, and come off while there are none to heed us, the way I’ll find you shelter and some friend to guard you. DEIRDRE. To what place would I go away from Naisi? What are the woods without Naisi or the sea shore? LAVARCHAM. — _very coaxingly._ — If it is that way you’d be, come till I find you a sunny place where you’ll be a great wonder they’ll call the queen of sorrows; and you’ll begin taking a pride to be sitting up pausing and dreaming when the summer comes. DEIRDRE. It was the voice of Naisi that was strong in summer — the voice of Naisi that was sweeter than pipes playing, but from this day will be dumb always. LAVARCHAM. — _to Old Woman._ — She doesn’t heed us at all. We’ll be hard set to rouse her. OLD WOMAN. If we don’t the High King will rouse her, coming down beside her with the rage of battle in his blood, for how could Fergus stand against him? LAVARCHAM. — _touching Deirdre with her hand._ — There’s a score of woman’s years in store for you, and you’d best choose will you start living them beside the man you hate, or being your own mistress in the west or south? DEIRDRE. It is not I will go on living after Ainnle and after Ardan. After Naisi I will not have a lifetime in the world.