We lay the dead out, folding up the hands,
Closing the eyes, and stretching out the feet,
And push a pillow underneath the head,
Till all's in order; and all this I'll do
For Naisi, son of Usna.
Closing the eyes, and stretching out the feet,
And push a pillow underneath the head,
Till all's in order; and all this I'll do
For Naisi, son of Usna.
Yeats
DEIRDRE.
O, do not touch me. Let me go to him.
[_Pause. _
King Conchubar is right. My husband's dead.
A single woman is of no account,
Lacking array of servants, linen cupboards,
The bacon hanging--and King Conchubar's house
All ready, too--I'll to King Conchubar's house.
It is but wisdom to do willingly
What has to be.
CONCHUBAR.
But why are you so calm?
I thought that you would curse me and cry out,
And fall upon the ground and tear your hair.
DEIRDRE [_laughing_].
You know too much of women to think so;
Though, if I were less worthy of desire,
I would pretend as much; but, being myself,
It is enough that you were master here.
Although we are so delicately made,
There's something brutal in us, and we are won
By those who can shed blood. It was some woman
That taught you how to woo: but do not touch me,
For I'll go with you and do all your will
When I have done whatever's customary.
We lay the dead out, folding up the hands,
Closing the eyes, and stretching out the feet,
And push a pillow underneath the head,
Till all's in order; and all this I'll do
For Naisi, son of Usna.
CONCHUBAR.
It is not fitting.
You are not now a wanderer, but a queen,
And there are plenty that can do these things.
DEIRDRE.
[_Motioning CONCHUBAR away. _]
No, no. Not yet. I cannot be your queen
Till the past's finished, and its debts are paid.
When a man dies and there are debts unpaid,
He wanders by the debtor's bed and cries,
There's so much owing.
CONCHUBAR.
You are deceiving me.
You long to look upon his face again.
Why should I give you now to a dead man
That took you from a living?
[_He makes a step towards her. _
DEIRDRE.
