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,
