not be talking too far and you old itself.


21

(Walks across room and back.) Does she
know the troubles are foretold?
LAVARCHAM -- in the tone of the earlier
talk. -- I'm after telling her one time and
another, but I'd do as well speaking to a lamb
of ten weeks and it racing the hills. . . . It's
not the dread of death or troubles that would
tame her like.
CONCHUBOR -- he looks out. -- She's
coming now, and let you walk in and keep
Fergus till I speak with her a while.
LAVARCHAM -- going left. -- If I'm
after vexing you itself, it'd be best you weren't
taking her hasty or scolding her at all.
CONCHUBOR -- very stiffly. -- I've no
call to. I'm well pleased she's light and airy.
LAVARCHAM -- offended at his tone. --
Well pleased is it? (With a snort of irony)
It's a queer thing the way the likes of me do
be telling the truth, and the wise are lying all
times.
[She goes into room on left. Conchubor
arranges himself before a mirror for a
moment, then goes a little to the left
and waits. Deirdre comes in poorly