University of Virginia Library

DEIRDRE.

ACTORS.

• Naisi Son of Usnach, a Refugee from the Court of Conor, King of Ulster.
• Ainlé, Brother of Naisi, in exile with him.
• Ardan, Brother of Naisi, in exile with him.
• Fergus Mac Roy, Ex-King of Ulster.
• Buino Borb Sons of Fergus.
• Illan Finn Sons of Fergus.
• Barach, a Brother of the Red Branch.
• Cormac, Son of Conor.
• Pursuivant.
• Deirdre, Wife of Naisi.
• Lévarcam, her Nurse.

Time—First century. Scene—Glen Etive in Scotland to Emania in Ulster.
SCENE OPENS AT GLEN ETIVE, IN SCOTLAND.
Deirdre, Naisi.
DEIRDRE.
Thou'rt sad.

NAISI.
Not sad.

DEIRDRE.
Say not thou art not sad,
Else I, more sad, shall say thou lovest me not.

NAISI.
I love thee, Deirdre; ever: only thee.

DEIRDRE.
Whence, then, that naughty knitting of the brow
And turning of the eye away from mine?

NAISI.
Not wholly sadness; but I own at times
My mind is fretted with impatience
Of longer exile in these Alban wilds.

DEIRDRE.
And, wretched me! I am the cause of it.

NAISI.
Think not I would reproach thee. Were't to do
Again, again I'd do it; and defy
Conor's worst malice. Justly he may rage
Losing his destined jewel, which to wear,
I glory; though but few its splendour see.

DEIRDRE.
Enough for me the wearer. Were the world
Peopled by but us two, I were content.

NAISI.
Not so with me. Love makes the woman's life
Within-doors and without; but, out of doors,
Action and glory make the life of man.
Here I have room for neither: here there's room
Only for solitudes interminable,
For desert vastness and vacuity.
I see yon wave that never felt a keel
Since first it rose, break white along the beach
So far beneath my feet, I hear it not.
The winds that whistle by me through the grass
Bring never sound of life but 'tis a beast
Or bird that sends it; save, perchance, at times
My brothers' or my house-knave's hunting-cry
May stir the silence to a moment's life.
I am impatient to consort again
With men, my equals: once again to speak
My thoughts in council, or in public court,
Swaying the judgments of attending throngs,
And charming minds to unanimity
With manly, warm-persuasive argument;
Or in the front ranks of embattled hosts
To interchange the cast of flying spears,
'Mong bloody Mars's high competitors,
With poets to record us standing by.
Nay, at the fair, the games, the feasting board,
To look on friendly faces and to grasp
The trusted hands of other men, were joy
Worth even daring the worst; and back again
Taking my customed place on Eman Green,
Though there he sat, and all his hosts were there.

DEIRDRE.
Alas, infatuate, who would shelter me
When thou, fast bound, shouldst see me dragged away
To death it might be, or to worse than death?

NAISI.
Renowned Cuchullin never would sit by
And see thee wronged. Were Conall Carnach there,
Or his own step sire, Fergus son of Roy,
No man should do my Deirdre injury.

DEIRDRE.
Cuchullin do I trust, and Conall too;
But Fergus gave his kingdom for a toy.

NAISI.
For love of Nessa laid he kingship down.
A lovelier Nessa, for the love of me,
Spurned the same crown when it was offered her.

DEIRDRE.
Nessa now dead, he haunts the drinking-hall,
More than is seemly in a nobleman,

NAISI.
Hall or hill-side, would we were with him now!

DEIRDRE.
Here we are safe; keep to our shelter here.
Here we have both been blest, and yet may be,
Forgetting Conor, and beyond his reach.

NAISI.
My loving, loyal brothers, too; they left
Home, pleasure, and renown, to follow me
In this elopement. I must think of them.
Are they to waste their bloom of manly youth
Here in this desert, without hope to wive?

DEIRDRE.
They ask but to partake their brother's lot;
Happy if he be happy. Me indeed
They love as a true sister. Never yet
Have I beheld on either gentle face
Gloom or reproachful look; though, were it there
'Twere not for me to wonder or complain;
For I, alas! am she that tempted you
To that rash, rapturous, defiant deed
That wraps us all in bonds of banishment.
No, never have they shown themselves to me
Other than sweet, affectionate, and gay.

NAISI.
Thou would'st not have them lose their joy of life
To keep us happy?

DEIRDRE.
Happy in thy love,
I can but think of that estate alone.
Love is all-selfish. Love, but thinks of one.
Its own fulfilment is love's world to love.
But here comes gentle Ainle from the chase.

NAISI.
Good brother, welcome: what is next afoot?

AINLE.
We hunt to-morrow in the corrie, sir.

NAISI.
Ay, I have hunted in the corrie oft,
And there seen buck and doe, but never a man.
And when I've slain my quarry, I have said,
“Beast, thou was't happy as compared with me,
For thou wast of a good town citizen,
And mingledst antlers bravely with thy peers.”

AINLE.
What ails our brother?

DEIRDRE.
'Tis a fond regret,
Bred of the solitary life we lead.

AINLE.
Not solitary. I were well content,
In such good company as still we have,
To spend my days a-hunting; and at eve
Sing to the harp, or listen to old tales
Of love, and lover's perils, hopes and joys;
While Ardan and Lord Naisi seated by,
Beguiled the swift time in their chess-play-wars.

DEIRDRE.
Lo, Ardan comes in haste. He wears the look
Of one who presently has news to tell.
No news were now good news. I pray the Gods
We're not found out!

ARDAN.
A sail, I've seen a sail.
Unless the sea-fog cheats my sight, a sail.

DEIRDRE.
A flight of sea-birds, haply; not a sail.

NAISI.
Nay, wherefore, not a sail? Were't Conor himself
And all his ships, I'd hail the face of man.
Let's forth and see it, whatsoe'er it be.

AINLE.
Hark, heard ye not a cry?

DEIRDRE.
No. Keep within,
'Tis the fox barking, haply; not a cry.

ARDAN.
'Tis a man's cry; a hunter's hallo, hark!

NAISI.
I know the call; an Ulster man is he
Who gives it. If my old and glorious friend
Fergus, the son of Roy, yet walks the earth,
It is his hunting-call. Ho, Fergus, ho!

DEIRDRE.
Vain my contention. Here, alas, he comes.

FERGUS.
Found in good hour. Hail, sons of Usnach, hail

NAISI.
Comest thou, Fergus, enemy or friend?

FERGUS.
Friend as of old; to well loved friends I come,
And welcome may the message be I bring.

NAISI.
From whom and what the message? Sends he peace?

FERGUS.
Conor sends peace and pardon. I myself
Your warrantor and convoy.

NAISI.
Favouring Gods!
What spell has wrought him to forgive my wrong?

DEIRDRE.
We did him not a wrong. The wrong was his.
He kept me as a dainty for his use,
Locked in a prison-garden shamefully;
Beast, who might well have been my grandfather!
Till Naisi gave me freedom, and I gave
Naisi the love was only mine to give.

FERGUS.
What, daughter: thou shalt come as well as he,
And have him for thyself, be it wrong or right.
'Tis fixed and warranted; and here's the hand
Will make it good. Naisi, the case stood thus:
My politic, learned step-son found his Maev
A partner somewhat over-arrogant,
And broke the marriage. Maev, imperial jade,
Has wed with Ailill, Tinne's son, and reigns
With him o'er the Connacians: in his halls
Of battlemented Croghan nursing hate
'Gainst now-detested Conor; and from wilds
Of Irrus drawing Gamanradian braves
And fierce Damnonian sworders, sends them forth
'Gainst the Ultonian borders, host on host,
Pressing the Red Branch with perpetual war.
We've fought them, and we've chased them oft, but still
They issue from their heathy western hives
As thick as summer midges, and our swords
Are dulled with slaughter, and our arms are tired.
We've missed thee, Naisi, and thy brothers here;
There's the plain truth. We missed and needed you.
And we,—Cuchullin, Conall, and myself,—
Avowed it in full council. And, said I,
“Sir, give me liberty to carry them
Thy royal message with assurance firm,
Of pardon and safe-conduct both for her
And him, and them, and all their company,
And, ere this present rounding moon come full,
I'll fetch the troop of truants back again.”
“Ah, ha,” said he, “thou knowest then where they hide?”
“Well do I know,” I answered, “but not tell,
Till first in open court thou'st said me yea.”

NAISI.
What said he then to that?

FERGUS.
He sat a while,
Revolving in his mind I know not what,
And something whispered Barach sitting by.
“Say yea,” said Conall. Said Cuchullin, “king
Say yea, and we will be their sureties.”
“Yea then,” said Conor, and the thing was done;
And here am I; and there my galley rides
Will land us safely this same afternoon
At Bon-a-Margy, upon Irish ground.

NAISI.
Oh noble Fergus, let me kiss thy hand!

AINLE.
Our dear befriender and deliverer!

ARDAN.
In whose safe-conduct we do all confide.

FERGUS.
What say'st thou, daughter Deirdre, shall we go?

DEIRDRE.
Ah me, among you all, what voice have I?
Ye leap like fishes to the baited hook,
And like young salmons will be drawn to land.
I knew 'twas Fergus ere I saw his face,
And knew he came a messenger of ill;
For I am daughter of a seër sire,
And prescience of disaster came on me
With first announcement of his sail on shore.

NAISI.
Say not disaster; Fergus brings a boon;
Even when, unpardoned, I'd have risked return,
Our pardon, on condition of return.

DEIRDRE.
Ay, by a time is now impossible,
Under the very wording of the boon.
The moon, then rounding, rises full to-night:
How then return before the moon be full?

NAISI.
'Tis our return, and placing of ourselves
At Conor's orders, not the hour precise
Of our return, that will entitle us
To that which he has promised in return.

ARDAN.
And, say that time were of the bargain part,
Enough if by to-night we reach his realm,
Returning, so, in jurisdiction.

AINLE.
Lord Fergus here stands as in Conor's place,
And here we yield us freely to his will
To stay or to return as he commands.

DEIRDRE.
After to-night his function's at an end,
And he no longer Conor's deputy.

FERGUS.
Why, Deirdre, thou'rt chief justice of the court!
Had I but had thee by me on the bench,
I ne'er had ceased to rule for lack of law.
But lay these puzzling niceties aside,
You journey back on my protection
And warrant of safe-conduct, all of you.

DEIRDRE.
What warrant did false Conor ever allow
To stand between him and his own desires?
Thou deem'dst his sureties good when in thy place
Thou sett'st him for a year, and thought he'd yield
The loaned dominion when the time was out.
Thou hadst the sighs of Nessa and his oath
For surety then; but when the day was come
To yield thee back the sceptre, robe, and crown,
He king'd it still; and rates thee, ever since,
His valiant subject and good stepfather.

NAISI.
Injurious Deirdre, thou art beautiful,
But hast a bitter and unguarded tongue.
Fergus allowed young Conor to retain
The sovereignty he lent him, not because
Conor demanded, but himself so will'd.
For who would fill a royal judgment-seat
Must study close the law's intricacies,
And leave delights untasted, Fergus loves
Better than balancing litigious scales,
And hearing false oaths bear the jargon out
Of wrangling pleaders. Nature him has framed
For love, for friendship, and for poesy;
Nor rules there king in Erin, not himself,
Th' arch-king of Tara, Conary, glorious son
Of Ederscal, would venture, or have power,
To violate safe-conduct given by him.

FERGUS.
Daughter, thou art the wife of my good friend;
I therefore hear not any word ill-timed,
If such were spoken. But beseech you, come
The tide now serves us, and the wind sits fair
Array ye quick, and let us seek the shore.

NAISI.
Bring forth my chess-board and its furniture,
My battle-tackle, and my hunting-gear,
For glad I am, and full resolved to go.

DEIRDRE.
Call me nurse Levarcam, and bring my harp.
Sirs, I am ready. Yes, I knew thy cry,
Fergus, for, I remember, once you rode
To hunt with Nessa close beneath my bower:
And I could tell you still what robes ye wore,
And what the several names ye called your hounds.
'Twas then I heard it, and I know it still,
But feigned I knew it not; and to no end.
Yes, from that turret on my garden wall
I oft have viewed the Brethren of the Branch,
And learned their cries of combat and of chase;
And there I oft saw him my eyes preferred,
As my heart prizes still above all men.
And where he goes, I go along with him.

FERGUS.
See here our galley. Send us forth a plank.
Hold by my hand. Deirdre, I swear to you,
My heart is lighter now you are on board;
For a good ending shall our journey have,
And I am sure thou'lt thank me for it yet.
Cast off! Up sail! She feels the wind. We fly.

NAISI.
The hills race past us. See, we leave the lake
And breast the sea. There Jura bares her paps
Amid her cloudy sucklings, nurse of storms.
We steer betwixt her and the mainland here,
For outside lies the whirlpool in whose gulf
Brecan of old and all his ships went down.
Dance, sparkling billows, as my spirits dance!
Mine now were perfect joy were thou but gay.

DEIRDRE.
Give me my harp, and let me sing a song;
And, nurse, undo the fastenings of my hair;
For I would mingle tresses with the wind
From Etive side, where happy days were mine.

FERGUS.
'Tis loved companionship makes nature fair;
And scenes as fair as Etive wait thee yet.
Thou soon shalt have that company thou wouldst,
And choice of Ulad to enjoy it in:
For, see, the capes of Erin heave in sight,
Fair Foreland yonder on his eastern watch,
And there Dunseverick. Lo, the warning fire
That gives the signal we are seen from shore.

NAISI.
What concourse this that waits us on the beach?

FERGUS.
Methinks 'tis Barach's ensign I discern,
Our well-loved, valiant Brother of the Branch.
Yea, it is he: and yonder, by my life,
Two not unworthy, hopeful candidates
For brotherly admittance, my own sons,
Dark Buino Borb, and Illan Finn the Fair.

BARACH.
Welcome to Fergus. Push the plank to shore.
Descend, fair daughter. Sons of Usnach, hail!

FERGUS.
My noble brother Barach! Nay, great sir,
'Tis not for thee to be our cup-bearer.

BARACH.
To better use could none commend the cup,
Nor goblet offer from a riper cask.

FERGUS.
Wine, this, the king of the world might drink and die.

BARACH.
Drink, and long live. And, noble Naisi, thou
Drink too.

NAISI.
This cup to health and thanks: no more.

BARACH.
What, Fergus, thou must sup with me to-night?

FERGUS.
I pray thee, Barach, hold me as excused.
We journey hastily, as thou may'st see.
Fetch forth the chariots. Have the posts been warned?

BUINO.
Relays are ready, and the inns prepared.

FERGUS.
Mount, daughter Deirdre. Fill the cup again,
And fair farewells and healths to all of you.

BARACH.
Fergus, thou wilt not pass a brother's door?
We wait thee at Dunseverick. Let thy wards
Take the protection of thy own good sons.
They'll see them safe. To that end Buino Borb
Is this same morning from Emania come,
And here finds Illan by a lucky chance
Journeying thither with his company.
Thy honor shall not suffer in their hands.

DEIRDRE.
Fergus, thou'rt pledged to us. Say nay to him.

BARACH.
He shall not say me nay. My board is spread;
The choicest Brethren of the Branch are there,
And much would marvel should his place be void.
His sons are well-sufficient in his room.
What though ye journeyed to the Branch alone,
None dare molest you, such a sheltering shield
Is the pledged word of Fergus; and they know,
From post to post, 'tis on his guarantee
And pass-word that ye travel; since the king
On his assurances has pardoned you.

DEIRDRE.
Fergus, I put thee under bond and vow,
Pledged but to-day, that thou desert us not.

BARACH.
Fergus, I put thee under bond and vow,
Pledged when we made thee Brother of the Branch,
Thou pass not further till thou sup with me.

FERGUS.
I pray thee, Barach, to forbear thy suit.

BARACH.
No: neither will I that forbear, nor bear
This public scorn that Deirdre puts on me.

FERGUS.
Naisi, what answer wouldst thou I should make?
I cannot halve myself: but these, my sons,
Are part of me and will not shame the rest.
They cannot fill my place at Barach's board,
But, at your side for convoy, well they can.

NAISI.
Where vow conflicts with vow, first-vow'd prevails,
Therefore, though Barach's be a churlish choice,
Made against woman and way-faring men,
I judge him best entitled. Sup with him.
Buino, I have not known thee until now,
But deem thy father's son must needs be true,
Courteous, and valiant. Illan I have known
Since childhood, and in saying that, say all
That commendation vouches in a man.
What then, young nobles, are ye ready, say,
To be our convoy in your father's room,
From hence to Eman gate, and thenceforward
Till Fergus do rejoin us?

BUINO AND ILLAN.
Ready, sir.

NAISI.
I ask no oaths. I read in eyes of both
Bright honor's pledge; and so commit myself
My wife, my brethren, and my serving train
Into your keeping. Mount, and let us ride.

FERGUS.
Sons, play the part of men, and show me well
In your presentment of me at the court,
Thou, Buino, have my spear: and, Illan, thou
Take this good sword of mine. There spreads no shield.
Before the breast of champion of the Branch
But it will pierce it; Conor's own except:
For it was forged by smiths of fairyland,
And all the voices of the floods and seas
When l oudest raised, are welded in its rim.
But in this errand that I send you on
No need will either have of sword or spear.

NAISI.
Mount, Deirdre. Sons of Fergus, ride beside;
Set forward cheerly: son of Roy, adieu!

DEIRDRE.
'Tis hard to fancy fraud behind an eye
So open blue. Ride near me, Illan Finn;
And, as our chariot glides along the mead,
Tell me the mountains and the streams we pass,
The lakes, the woods, and mansions by the way.
What hills be these around us?

ILLAN.
That, Knocklayd
To rightward, girded with his chalky belt;
Lurgeden yonder, smoothly-back'd to us,
But browed like frowning giant toward the sea;
And now to leftward, haunted by the fays,
Glenariff's birchen bowers and clear cascade.

DEIRDRE.
And in the distance, glittering to the west?

ILLAN.
Our silver river, that; the humming Bann.

DEIRDRE.
Why humming?

ILLAN.
'Tis a pretty country tale—
How one who played the pipes to please his love,
Was by a jealous water-sprite drawn in:
And, when the river buzzes through his reeds,
They say 'tis he that still would pipe to her,
But that the fairy has his chanter hid,
And left him but the drone. An idle tale.

DEIRDRE.
Nay, nought is idle that records true love.
From Neägh's lake, methinks, that river runs?

ILLAN.
Yea truly.

DEIRDRE.
And they tell another tale
How that was once dry champaign, do they not?

ILLAN.
Yes; 'twas young Liban's task to watch the well,
And duly close its covering-lid at eve,
Lest something evil there inhabiting
Should issue forth: but, on an afternoon,
Walking with her true lover, with a mind
That thought of nothing evil, she forgot
Well and well-lid; and so the under-sea
Burst through and drowned the valley: but the Gods,
Who favour constant lovers, spared their lives;
And there, beneath a glassy dome they dwell,
Still pleased in one another's company.
The lake lies yonder: we shall see it soon.

DEIRDRE.
Mark how the simple country people deck
Each natural scene with graceful tales of love,
While the strong castles and the towns of men
Are by the poets and historians
Stuck full of tragedies and woes of war.

ILLAN.
Those are but tales to pass away the time,
Invented by the fancies of poor swains
And rustic maidens: but the chroniclers,
Who note the deeds done in the haunts of men,
Have oft but wicked actions to record.

DEIRDRE.
And therefore thou?—

ILLAN.
Would rather if I might,
Frequent the open country, and converse
With shepherds, hunters, and such innocents.

DEIRDRE.
Yet wouldst thou not shun martial deeds of arms?

ILLAN.
I dare not shun them, did they challenge me,
For that were base, unmanly cowardice;
But I would rather win the smiles I love
By mild humanity and gentleness.

DEIRDRE.
Thou lovest, then?

LIIAN.
A peerless maid I love
And, for her sake, methinks, love all the world;
For all the world's perfections are in her.

DEIRDRE.
Long be thou happy in believing so;
Have me in kind regard as I have thee,
And prythee let thy brother take thy place.
Dark though he be, as thou art flaxen fair
I trust I may esteem him equally.
Ride near me Buino: let me talk with thee:
Say, wherefore, do men call thee Buino Borb?

BUINO.
A something haughty that they find in me,
—Or, as I fancy, fancy that they find,—
Not unbeseeming in the eldest born
Of him who once wore crown of all we see,
Led some at first to call me by that name,
Which now, by oft repeating, clings to me.

DEIRDRE.
Conor's young Cormac and thyself, methinks,
Are of an age, and, haply, by and by,
For that same crown may be competitors.

BUINO.
Small were my fear, were there but I and he.

DEIRDRE.
Why hold him, prythee, in that light esteem?

BUINO.
Because, too nice, and over-scrupulous,
He weighs his actions in a tedious scale,
Nor strikes when favouring fortune gives the ball.

DEIRDRE.
And thou?—

BUINO.
I've won already from his sire
Promise half-ratified of rents and lands,
Will make me higher in estate than he.
'Twas not by letting fair occasion slip
I won that promise, let me promise thee.

DEIRDRE.
How called, the promised principality?

BUINO.
Dalwhinny 'twill be, when the land is mine.

DEIRDRE.
But, ere the gift's complete, behoves thee snatch
Some fresh occasion to commend thyself?

BUINO.
Which doubtless yet will come.

DEIRDRE.
Turn here thy eyes,
And tell me, Buino, of thy courtesy.
What do they under yonder aged tree,
Itself a grove, a leafy temple-court?

BUINO.
That is renowned Crevilly's sacred ash,
And they beneath it are its worshippers.
Small the return their worship's like to bring,
Made to dead wood and early-dropping leaves.

DEIRDRE.
Thou deemest, then, there is no God in it?

BUINO.
No more than in the fountain or the carn,
The pillar-circle or the standing stone,
Where other worshippers perform their rounds.

DEIRDRE.
Nor in the sun, or wind, or elements?

BUINO.
No more.

DEIRDRE.
But thou believest in the Gods
Who, whether present under forms of things
Perceptible to sense, or whether lodged
Apart in secret chambers of the air,
Take notice of the impious acts of men
As murders, treasons, lovers' broken vows?

BUINO.
Sunshine and dew fall equal on the fields
Of this man and of that: the thunderbolt
Strikes, indiscriminating, good and bad.

DEIRDRE.
How, then, oblige men to the oaths they swear?

BUINO.
Each nation has its proper swearing-Gods,
Whom invocating, if one speak the lie,
Being found out, he's punishable here.

DEIRDRE.
But there?

BUINO.
I know not: I was never there,
Nor ever yet met anyone who was.
But all these things may be as thou hast said.
I know not: but allow it possible.

DEIRDRE.
Oh! yonder see the lake in prospect fair,
It lies beneath us like a polished shield.
Ah, me! methinks, I could imagine it
Cast down by some despairing deity,
Flying before the unbelief of men.
There, in the vale below, a river clear
Runs by a mounded mansion steep and strong.
Know'st thou the name and story of the place?

BUINO.
'Tis called Rathmore, and nothing more know I.
Illan belike has got some old romance,
Passing with poets for its history.

DEIRDRE.
Illan, what king was he dwelt here of yore?

ILLAN.
Fergus, the son of Leidé Lithe-o'-limb,
Ere yet he reigned at Eman, did dwell here.

DEIRDRE.
What, Fergus Wry-mouth? I have heard of him,
And how he came by his ill-favoured name,
And struck his bond-maid, and should pay for it.
'Tis a fair valley. And 'twas here he lived?
Methinks I see him when he rose again
From combat with the monster, and his face,
That had that blemish till love wiped it off,
Serene and ample-featured like a king.

ILLAN.
Not love, but anger, made him fight the beast.

DEIRDRE.
No, no, I will not have it anger. Love
Prompts every deed heroic. 'Tis the fault
Of him who did compose the tale at first,
Not to have shown 'twas love unblemish'd him.
And so 'tis here we cross Ollarva's fords,
And, with our wheels still dripping, skirt the lake?
No longer shows it like the ample shield
I pictured it, when gazing from above.
'Tis now a burnished falchion half-unsheathed
From cover of the woods and velvet lawns.
Oh! happy fancy, what a friend art thou,
That, with thy unsubstantial imagery,
Effacest solidest and hardest things,
And mak'st the anxious and o'er-burthened mind
Move, for a while forgetful of itself,
Amid its thick surrounding obstacles,
As easy as a maiden young and gay
Moves through the joyous mazes of the dance!
Thanks, gracious Illan, for thy fair discourse
That has beguiled the way so happily,
Till now, when almost nearing to the goal.
Buino, thou'rt from Emania newly come:
Say shall we find renowned Conall there?

BUINO.
A messenger from Leinster late arrived
Reports Athairne, primate of the bards,
Maltreated of Mesgedra, King of Naas;
And Conall has departed to his aid.

DEIRDRE.
And where Cuchullin?

BUINO.
At Dundealga he,
Repressing tumult of his borderers there.

DEIRDRE.
How lies Emania; and Dundealga how?

BUINO.
Straight on, Dundealga: Eman to the right.

DEIRDRE.
My lord, I counsel that we journey on
Straight to Cuchullin's mansion.

BUINO.
Surely no.
Our charge is to conduct you to the king.

DEIRDRE.
We are not prisoners, Buino, in thy hands.
Naisi, beseech thee, let's not trust ourselves
At court of Conor, till our friends be there.

BUINO.
Your friends are here: faith-worthy friends as they.

NAISI.
Let's on to Eman: 'twere a heinous slight
Put on these frank and brave young noblemen
To doubt their will and full ability
For our protection, were protection claimed.
But none will call in question or impugn
The word of Fergus for our safety pledged.
Thy fears are groundless.

DEIRDRE.
Fergus is not here:
Fergus has found occasion not to be
Where our occasions do most call for him:
Fergus consorts with whispering Barach now:
He shifts us on his proxies, young and raw;
And thou hast heard on what support we lean,
Trusting the faithless faith of one of them.

NAISI.
Thou wrong'st him, Deirdre.

BUINO.
Yea, she does me wrong.
But not for that will I be false to you.

DEIRDRE.
Yea, not for that wilt thou be false to us.

ILLAN.
We both will spend our lives to see you safe.

DEIRDRE.
Thou wouldst. I well believe it; but for him
To whom the Gods are possibilities,
May-be's, perchances, I've no trust in him.

NAISI.
Deirdre, forbear. Buino, good cause hast thou
For thy displeasure; but it rests with me
To order our proceeding, not with her.

DEIRDRE.
Oh rash, insensate, weakly-credulous,
That thinkest all men honest as thyself!

NAISI.
One must be master; and that one am I;
And I must judge this case for all of you.
Man lives by mutual trust. The commonwealth
Falls into chaos if man trust not man.
For then all joint endeavours come to nought,
And each pursues his separate intent,
Backed by no other labour than his own.
Which confidence, which bond of social life,
Is bred in some of just experience,
Of oaths and terror of the Gods in some,
But, in the most, of natural honesty
That God has planted in the breast of man,
Thereby distinguishing him from the beasts.
And where I find it, ground it as it may,
In use, religion, or mere manliness,
There do I love, revere, and cherish it.
And since these courteous, brave young gentlemen
Have taken it on their honor and their truth
To hold us harmless, though we near the gates
Of one who bears me great and just ill-will,
I'll trust them wholly; nor affront their faith
With any scrupulous, unhandsome show
Of base suspicion, diffidence, or fear.
Drive on to Eman, therefore. Rightward drive.
It is my will, and I will have it so.

DEIRDRE.
Nurse Levarcam, rememberest thou the time
We sat together on that hill we see
There where the sky-line has a streak of gray,
And snow was on the ground?

LEVARCAM.
Aye, well indeed
Do I remember, darling; it was there
Thou sawest him first, and said the sifted snow
Was hardly fairer.

DEIRDRE.
He has frowned on me
Thrice, now, who never frowned on me before.
Yet am I prouder to be ruled by him,
And, for that noble justice of his mind,
Do love him better, were that possible
Where love was always best, than e'er before.

LEVARCAM.
My pet, my precious one, we know not yet
But that the king may treat us honestly.
If to the Red Branch lodging we be sent,
Mistrust him: but, elsewhere, set face to face,
And other champions of the province by,
He durst not venture such a villany
As thy dark-omening spirit shudders at.
But, see, we near the town. The sun sets red,
And turns the low-hung awning of the clouds
Into a lowering, crimson canopy.

DEIRDRE.
Blood-red it hangs. I know the augury.
But knowledge and forewarning now come late.

NAISI.
We near the palace. See, a steward comes
To lead us to our lodging. Sir, precede:
We follow. 'Tis the Red Branch, as I see,
We are assigned to. Often in this hall
Have I been merry, and will be again.
Here's supper laid. Beseech you sit ye down
And let's refresh ourselves.

DEIRDRE.
I cannot eat.

NAISI.
Nor I, in truth. I have been somewhat chafed
Give me some wine; and set the chess-tables.
Ardan will play with me, to pass the time,
Till haply Conor send us his commands.
And, Ainle, thou be umpire of the game.

AINLE.
Before we sit, sir, shall we set the watch?

NAISI.
No. We are here in charge of trusted friends,
And what is needful to be done they'll do.

DEIRDRE.
Nurse, while in this defiant confidence
He sits, disdaining fortune, steal thou forth,
And, mingling with the concourse in the hall,
Observe what Conor does: and fetch me word.

NAISI.
Who's he who at the window there peeps in?
Begone, base fellow, whosoe'er thou art!
I love not such espial. Play again.
Deirdre, set forth thy harp; and let the air
Be brave and cheerful. We have nought to fear.

DEIRDRE.
I play my best; though that be ill enough.
My heart is heavy at my fingers' ends.

NAISI.
How! What! Our spying overseer again!
Take that, thou villain, for thy impudence!

DEIRDRE.
What has disturbed my lord?

NAISI.
A spying knave
At yonder window, that, with brutal eyes,
Surveyed us as we sat, and took thee in
As he'd appraise thy beauties, charm by charm.
None here shall pry into our privacy.
Lords, think it not in your disparagement,
But I would crave to have that casement closed,
And, if it please you, let my battle-arms
Be placed beside me, ready to my hand.
There, Deirdre, see, thy nurse would speak with thee.

LEVARCAM.
My sweet, my darling, I am here again,
He means us ill. I've seen and spoke with him.
He sat at table with his judges by,
And made this question with them, whether we
Not rendering ourselves before the full o' the moon,
His promise made to Fergus Royson, held?
The judges differed. Half of them affirmed
His promise was, in that, conditional,
And, the condition failing, it held not.
The other half as stiffly did maintain
The point of time was nothing to the point,
And that, though Fergus might be late a day,
The pardon granted us did yet hold good.
With these young Cormac, sitting by, agreed,
And, to confirm his argument, did swear
That, saving still the duty of a son
Defending father, were his sire assailed,
He never would raise weapon 'gainst poor guests
Drawn in to jeopardy of life and limb
By plotted covin and duplicity.
Whereat—what I had never seen before—
Conor, who, ever, was as temperate
As his brave step-sire jovial, swallowed down
Two mighty cups of wine; and, spying me,
He called me up, and, there before them all,
Demanded many things concerning thee,
And did thy beauty live upon thee still?
“No,” said I; “she is wrinkled, lean, and old,
“And nothing like the Deirdre that she was”
—The Gods forgive me for the loving lie!—
But while I spoke, one entering cried, “'Tis false!
“There lives not beauty on the earth's expanse
“Fit to compare with her's. I saw her sit,”
The insolent eaves-dropper did go on,
“A perfect goddess, lovely to behold,
“Upon a silken couch: she flung her arms,
“No ivory fairer, o'er her golden harp,
“And played a merry and delightful air
“So sweet, I stood as in an ecstacy;
“When that strong traitor who consorts with her,
“Spying me, snatched a chessman from the board
“And flung it full at me: see here the wound.”
With that he showed his cheek besmeared with blood,
—I would the just Gods it had been his brains.—
And Conor, rising, cried to fetch his arms,
And vowed he would avenge his messenger;
Then some cried “treason” others that denied.
And Cormac called out, “Never better hap
“Befall a cranny-haunting, mousing spy!”
Whereat I judged it well to come away,
And there I left them wrangling noisily.

DEIRDRE.
It is a crafty pretext for a quarrel;
That quarrel to be pretext for his death,
And my deliverance into hands abhorred.

BUINO.
Who here?

PURSUIVANT.
A messenger from Conor, I

BUINO.
His will?

PURSUIVANT.
He wills that thou deliver up
Naisi the son of Usnach, who stands charged
With wounding to effusion of the blood.

BUINO.
Under safe conduct is lord Naisi here,
And we, as sons and lawful deputies
Of his great surety, Fergus son of Roy,
Are answerable for him.

PURSUIVANT.
Yield him up

BUINO.
We will not yield him. There I plant the spear
Of Fergus. Pass it, and I strike thee dead.

PURSUIVANT.
Buino, a message for thy private ear.

BUINO.
Deliver it without. I follow thee.

DEIRDRE.
It is the confirmation of the grant
That bribes him to betray us.

ILLAN.
Oh, no, no!
If that were possible, I'd die of shame.

NAISI.
Await him: he'll return.

DEIRDRE.
Oh trustful breast,
Incapable of comprehending guile,
As is the goblet of true crystal stone
To hold the poisoned draught that shivers it,
Would I could bear thy heart-break, now at hand!

AINLE.
He comes not back. Sir, shall we take our arms?

NAISI.
What, Illan, wouldst thou that we deem ourselves
Discharged the duty to rely on thee?

ILLAN.
Not while I live, and these, my father's men,
Are here to make the pledge of Fergus good.

NAISI.
The move is with thee, Ardan. Play again
Lord Buino will come back to us anon.

DEIRDRE.
Dalwhinny's lord, he never will come back.

NAISI.
I hear one coming.

DEIRDRE.
Oh my heart! not he.

PURSUIVANT.
In the king's name, yield ye my prisoner up,
Or Conor's self will fetch him. He's at hand.

ILLAN.
We will not yield him up, to thee or him.

PURSUIVANT.
Thy brother Buino spoke as brave as thou,
And he has done his homage gratefully,
And now is lord of lands and seigniories.

NAISI.
We're not betrayed?

ILLAN.
Oh Naisi, what a word!
Thou soon shalt see I am not worthy it.

PURSUIVANT.
Illan, I bear a message for thee too.

ILLAN.
Out with it.

PURSUIVANT.
Let me have thy private ear.

ILLAN.
What, tampering villain, wouldst thou bribe me too?
Up, comrades; thrust the fellow from the door.
They shall not live who offer Illan shame.

PURSUIVANT.
Assistance, ho, without!

DEIRDRE.
They force the door.

ILLAN.
We'll meet and drive them to their barracks back.
Throw the door open! Charge upon the knaves!

LEVARCAM.
Oh ye good heavens, what a man is here
We counted but an hour ago a boy!
He darts upon them fiercer than a hawk
Striking at pigeons. With a swifter whirl
Than arms of windmills and than grinding wheels
He makes the red rout through and over them.
Hah! from his strokes they tumble and rebound
As shocks that jump upon the threshing floor.
There's Fergus's true blood! The other one
Is none of his: there Fergus was played false.
Oh, well done, Illan! Glorious youth, well done!

DEIRDRE.
'Twas tender of dishonor set aflame
His soul's unconscious reservoirs of wrath
That, blazing forth, do so transfigure him,
And of the soft-affection'd, gentle youth
Make the heroic, formidable man.
He fires the very moonlight with his blade,
Flash upon flash.

LEVARCAM.
Oh, hark the dreadful clang

DEIRDRE.
He fights with Conor. It is Conor's shield
Screams, clamours, and resounds beneath his blows.
Speed him, kind Gods! Ah me, who strikes between?

LEVARCAM.
'Tis Cormac to his father's rescue come.
Alack, young Illan cannot combat both.
He falls: he's slain: his broken band return.

DEIRDRE.
Leaderless remnant of brave friends, come in.

NAISI.
Now, noble brothers, we may arm ourselves,
Nor wound protecting pride. Make fast the doors.
Give me my corselet.

DEIRDRE.
Let me brace it on.
The helmet, Levarcam.

LEVARCAM.
We'll dress our lord
Most like a royal champion.

DEIRDRE.
Like a god
We'll send him forth to trample all things base.

NAISI.
Oh dear-loved Deirdre, thy advice was good.
I had been wiser, had I taken it,
And all of us, I dread, had safer been.
Yet thou dost not reproach me.

DEIRDRE.
No reproach
From lips of Deirdre shalt thou ever hear.
All that my noble lord has done was right,
Wise, and magnanimous.

NAISI.
I did my best,
Though that but ill, for honor.

DEIRDRE.
I, my best,
Though that but weak and petulant, for love:
And now for love will do whate'er remains.

NAISI.
Ardan, learn for us what they do without.

ARDAN.
They've summoned fresh battalions. Till these come
They siege us at a distance.

NAISI.
Then, we strike
Before their aids come up. Thou'rt ready, dear,
To share this venture?

DEIRDRE.
Ready, if near thee.

NAISI.
Ardan and Ainle, to your tender care
I give my Deirdre. Fence her, right and left,
With cover of your bodies and your shields.
I take the front. Our cohort will make head
For the King's Stables. There at least we'll find
A shelter we may better hope to hold
Till Fergus's return; or, happily,
Conveyance, and the chance of full escape.

DEIRDRE
Stay, Levarcam. They will not harm thee. Stay.

LEVARCAM.
Alack, I'm hurt, and stay against my will.

NAISI.
Friends, keep together. Deirdre, thou shalt see
What love can do, if honor were unwise.
Cast wide the portal. Be the Gods our aid!

LEVARCAM.
I cannot see their onset. I but hear
The hurrying and the clashing. Oh, ye Gods,
Shield ye my darling one, or send her death
Rather than life with loathing and despair!
I saw her, ere she left, prepare a cup;
What, and for what, I guess indeed too well.
Would I could give it her, were that to do:
'Twere my last service, and would be my best.
How dreadful 'tis to hear men dealing death,
And not to know who falls and who keeps up
The tumult slackens. We are saved or lost.
One side returns victorious. Deirdre comes:
But ah, her sidesmen are not those they were!
'Tis Cormac leads her; these are Conor's men
That bear the burthens in. Oh, heavy sight
Ardan and Ainle and lord Naisi dead!

DEIRDRE.

CORMAC.
Deirdre, 'tis time that I conduct thee hence.

DEIRDRE.
Sir, I am, sudden, faint. That cup of wine
Is still untasted. Pray thee hand it me.
I would but kiss my nurse and say farewell.
Now give me this refreshment.

LEVARCAM.
She'll not thirst
More in this world; now well past reach of harm.

CORMAC.
Ay; so. 'Twas poisoned. She has freed herself.
Oh, wretched king, who now canst only hear.
That all for nothing thou hast been forsworn
Fair corpse, I'll have thee by thy husband laid.
Thou art her nurse, and thou shalt see to it.

LEVARCAM.
Sir, I have heard a shout which I know well.
'Tis Fergus who approaches. Stay not here.

CORMAC.
To save a father vile and fraudulent
I've slain the noblest youth in all the world.
For him I fight no more. I fear to face
The grief of guileless Fergus whom I love,
More even than his wrath. I'll get me hence,
And, in the west, will seek a guardsman's pay
With Maev and Ailill, till this storm be passed.

FERGUS.
Where are my wards, my wards that I have bailed?
Where are my sons who had my wards in charge?
Their danger was revealed me ere I sat,
And hot upon their track I'm here, to find
Confusion, horror, blood, and treachery.
Where are my wards, the wards of Fergus, where?

LEVARCAM.
Too blind with passion to perceive them lie
Here almost at his feet: he hurries past.
Unhappy Fergus, what atrocious pangs
Of rage and self-reproach will sting thee through
When presently thou shalt have learned it all!
Ay, big with bitter knowledge, back he comes.

FERGUS.
Fire, bring me fire! bring ropes and grapple-hooks!
I'll pull his proud aspiring palace-roof
Down to the ground and burn it over him.
I'll take such vengeance on this traitor king
All Erin, shore to shore, shall ring with it,
And poets in the ages yet to come
Make tales of wonder of it for the world.