Fergus. We will make your curagh ready and it fitted for the voyage of a king.

He goes with Naisi.

Deirdre. Take your spears, Ainnle and Ardan, and go down before me, and take your horse-boys to be carrying my cloaks are on the threshold.

Ainnle (obeying). It’s with a poor heart we’ll carry your things this day we have carried merrily so often, and we hungry and cold. (They gather up things and go out).

Deirdre (to Lavarcham). Go you, too, Lavarcham. You are old, and I will follow quickly.

Lavarcham. I’m old, surely, and the hopes I had my pride in are broken and torn.

She goes out, with a look of awe at Deirdre.

Deirdre (clasping her hands). Woods of Cuan, woods of Cuan, dear country of the east! It’s seven years we’ve had a life was joy only, and this day we’re going west, this day we’re facing death, maybe, and death should be a poor, untidy thing, though it’s a queen that dies.

She goes out slowly.

Curtain.