OLD WOMAN. — _with excitement._ — Look, Lavarcham! There’s a light leaving the Red Branch. Conchubor and his lot will be coming quickly with a torch of bog-deal for her marriage, throwing a light on her three comrades. DEIRDRE. — _startled._ — Let us throw down clay on my three comrades. Let us cover up Naisi along with Ainnle and Ardan, they that were the pride of Emain. (_Throwing in clay._) There is Naisi was the best of three, the choicest of the choice of many. It was a clean death was your share, Naisi; and it is not I will quit your head, when it’s many a dark night among the snipe and plover that you and I were whispering together. It is not I will quit your head, Naisi, when it’s many a night we saw the stars among the clear trees of Glen da Ruadh, or the moon pausing to rest her on the edges of the hills. OLD WOMAN. Conchubor is coming, surely. I see the glare of flames throwing a light upon his cloak. LAVARCHAM. — _eagerly._ — Rise up, Deirdre, and come to Fergus, or be the High King’s slave for ever! DEIRDRE. — _imperiously._ — I will not leave Naisi, who has left the whole world scorched and desolate. I will not go away when there is no light in the heavens, and no flower in the earth under them, but is saying to me that it is Naisi who is gone for ever. CONCHUBOR. — _behind._ — She is here. Stay a little back. (_Lavarcham and Old Woman go into the shadow on left as Conchubor comes in. With excitement, to Deirdre._) Come forward and leave Naisi the way I’ve left charred timber and a smell of burning in Emain Macha, and a heap of rubbish in the storehouse of many crowns. DEIRDRE. — _more awake to what is round her._ — What are crowns and Emain Macha, when the head that gave them glory is this place, Conchubor, and it stretched upon the gravel will be my bed tonight? CONCHUBOR. Make an end of talk of Naisi, for I’ve come to bring you to Dundealgan since Emain is destroyed. [_Conchubor makes a movement towards her._ DEIRDRE. — _with a tone that stops him._ — Draw a little back from Naisi, who is young for ever. Draw a little back from the white bodies I am putting under a mound of clay and grasses that are withered — a mound will have a nook for my own self when the end is come. CONCHUBOR. — _roughly._ — Let you rise up and come along with me in place of growing crazy with your wailings here. DEIRDRE. It’s yourself has made a crazy story, and let you go back to your arms, Conchubor, and to councils where your name is great, for in this place you are an old man and a fool only. CONCHUBOR. If I’ve folly, I’ve sense left not to lose the thing I’ve bought with sorrow and the deaths of many. [_He moves towards her._ DEIRDRE. Do not raise a hand to touch me. CONCHUBOR. There are other hands to touch you. My fighters are set round in among the trees. DEIRDRE. Who’ll fight the grave, Conchubor, and it opened on a dark night? LAVARCHAM. — _eagerly._ — There are steps in the wood. I hear the call of Fergus and his men.