Monologue

Deirdre Monologue from John Millington Synge

From John Millington Synge by Deirdre of the Sorrows

47 sec

It’s you three will not see age or death coming — you that were my company when the fires on the hill-tops were put out and the stars were our friends only. I’ll turn my thoughts back from this night, that’s pitiful for want of pity, to the time it was your rods and cloaks made a little tent for me where there’d be a birch tree making shelter and a dry stone; though from this day my own fingers will be making a tent for me, spreading out my hairs and they knotted with the rain.

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