[Whispering to each other, as they both point at Signë.] There she is!
[Starting.] Aye, mine.
[Likewise.] No, mine!
[Softly, half bewildered.] Signë!
[As before, to Knut.] What mean you by that?
I mean that ’tis Signë whom I—
Signë! Signë is my betrothed in the sight of God.
[With a cry.] It was she! No—no!
[To himself, as he catches sight of her.] Margit! She has heard everything.
Ho, ho! So this is how it stands? Nay, Dame Margit, ’tis needless to put on such an air of wonder; now I understand everything.
[To Signë.] But not a moment ago you said—? [Suddenly grasping the situation.] ’Twas Gudmund you meant!
[Astonished.] Yes, did you not know it! But what ails you, Margit?
[In an almost toneless voice.] Nay, nothing, nothing.
[To Margit.] And this morning, when you made me give my word that I would stir no strife here to-night—you already knew that Gudmund Alfson was coming. Ha, ha, think not that you can hoodwink Knut Gesling! Signë has become dear to me. Even this morning ’twas but my hasty vow that drove me to seek her hand; but now—
[To Margit.] He? Was this the wooer that was in your mind?
Hush, hush!
[Firmly and harshly.] Dame Margit—you are her elder sister; you shall give me an answer.
[Battling with herself.] Signë has already made her choice;—I have naught to answer.
Good; then I have nothing more to do at Solhoug. But after midnight—mark you this—the day is at an end; then you may chance to see me again, and then Fortune must decide whether it be Gudmund or I that shall bear Signë away from this house.
Aye, try if you dare; it shall cost you a bloody sconce.
[In terror.] Gudmund! By all the saints—!
Gently, gently, Gudmund Alfson! Ere sunrise you shall be in my power. And she—your lady-love—[Goes up to the door, beckons and calls in a low voice.] Erik! Erik! come hither! we must away to our kinsfolk. [Threateningly, while Erik shows himself in the doorway.] Woe upon you all when I come again!
[He and Erik go off to the left at the back.]
[Softly to Gudmund.] Oh, tell me, what does all this mean?
[Whispering.] We must both leave Solhoug this very night.
God shield me—you would—!
Say nought of it! No word to any one, not even to your sister.
[To herself.] She—it is she! She of whom he had scarce thought before to-night. Had I been free, I know well whom he had chosen.—Aye, free!
[Bengt and Guests, both Men and Women, enter from the house.
That is well, that is well! So I fain would see it! I am merry, and my wife likewise; and therefore I pray ye all to be merry along with us.
Aye, now let us have a stave-match.[25]
[Shout.] Yes, yes, a stave-match!
Nay, let that be; it leads but to strife at the feast. [Lowering his voice.] Bear in mind that Knut Gesling is with us to-night.
[Whispering among themselves.] Aye, aye, that is true. Remember the last time, how he—. Best beware.
But you, Dame Margit—I know your kin had ever wealth of tales in store; and you yourself, even as a child, knew many a fair legend.
Alas! I have forgot them all. But ask Gudmund Alfson, my kinsman; he knows a tale that is merry enough.
[In a low voice, imploringly.] Margit!
Why, what a pitiful countenance you put on! Be merry, Gudmund! Be merry! Aye, aye, it comes easy to you, well I wot. [Laughing, to the Guests.] He has seen the huldra to-night. She would fain have tempted him; but Gudmund is a faithful swain. [Turns again to Gudmund.] Aye, but the tale is not finished yet. When you bear away your lady-love, over hill and through forest, be sure you turn not round; be sure you never look back—the huldra sits laughing behind every bush; and when all is done—[In a low voice, coming close up to him.]—you will go no further than she will let you. [She crosses to the right.]
Oh, God! Oh, God!
[Going around among the Guests in high contentment.] Ha, ha, ha! Dame Margit knows how to set the mirth afoot! When she takes it in hand, she does it much better than I.
[To himself.] She threatens! I must tear the last hope out of her breast; else will peace never come to her mind. [Turns to the Guests.] I mind me of a little song. If it please you to hear it—
Thanks, thanks, Gudmund Alfson!
[They close around him, some sitting, others standing. Margit leans against a tree in front on the right. Signë stands on the left, near the house.
That is a right fair song. See how the young swains cast their glances thitherward! [Pointing towards the Girls.] Aye, aye, doubtless each has his own.
[Making eyes at Margit.] Yes, I have mine, that is sure enough. Ha, ha, ha!
[To herself, quivering.] To have to suffer all this shame and scorn! No, no; now to essay the last remedy!
What ails you? Meseems you look so pale.
’Twill soon pass over. [Turns to the Guests.] Did I say e’en now that I had forgotten all my tales? I bethink me now that I remember one.
Good, good, my wife! Come, let us hear it.
[Urgently.] Yes, tell it us, tell it us, Dame Margit!
I almost fear that ’twill little please you; but that must be as it may.
[To himself.] Saints in heaven, surely she would not—!
[She totters and, fainting, seeks to support herself against the trunk of a tree.
[Weeping, has rushed up to her, and takes her in her arms.] Margit! My sister!
[At the same time, supporting her.] Help! Help! she is dying!
[Bengt and the Guests flock round them with cries of alarm.
ACT THIRD
The hall at Solhoug as before, but now in disorder after the feast. It is night still, but with a glimmer of approaching dawn in the room and over the landscape without.
Bengt stands outside in the passage-way, with a beaker of ale in his hand. A party of Guests are in the act of leaving the house. In the room a Maid-Servant is restoring order.
[Calls to the departing Guests.] God speed you, then, and bring you back ere long to Solhoug. Methinks you, like the rest, might have stayed and slept till morning. Well, well! Yet hold—I’ll e’en go with you to the gate. I must drink your healths once more.
[Margit enters the hall by the door on the right.
God save us, my lady, have you left your bed?
I am well. Go you and sleep. Stay—tell me, are the guests all gone?
No, not all; some wait till later in the day; ere now they are sleeping sound.
And Gudmund Alfson—?
He, too, is doubtless asleep. [Points to the right.] ’Tis some time since he went to his chamber—yonder, across the passage.
Good; you may go.
[Margit walks slowly across the hall, seats herself by the table on the right, and gazes out at the open window.
[Again silence; she takes out the little phial, looks long at it and says under her breath:
[In the act of throwing it out of the window, stops.
[With an expression of mingled horror and rapture, whispers.
[Bengt, with the empty beaker in his hand, comes in from the passage-way; his face is red; he staggers slightly.
[Flinging the beaker upon the table on the left.] My faith, this has been a feast that will be the talk of the country. [Sees Margit.] Eh, are you there? You are well again. Good, good.
[Who in the meantime has concealed the phial.] Is the door barred?
[Seating himself at the table on the left.] I have seen to everything. I went with the last guests as far as the gates. But what became of Knut Gesling to-night?—Give me mead, Margit! I am thirsty. Fill this cup.
[Margit fetches a flagon of mead from a cupboard, and fills the goblet which is on the table in front of him.
[Crossing to the right with the flagon.] You asked about Knut Gesling.
That I did. The boaster, the braggart! I have not forgot his threats of yester-morning.
He used worse words when he left to-night.
He did? So much the better. I will strike him dead.
[Smiling contemptuously.] H’m—
I will kill him, I say! I fear not to face ten such fellows as he. In the store-house hangs my grandfather’s axe; its shaft is inlaid with silver; with that axe in my hands, I tell you—! [Thumps the table and drinks.] To-morrow I shall arm myself, go forth with all my men, and slay Knut Gesling.
[To herself.] Oh, to have to live with him!
Margit, come here! Fill my cup again. [She approaches; he tries to draw her down on to his knee.] Ha, ha, ha! You are right fair, Margit! I love you well!
[Freeing herself.] Let me go!
[Crosses, with the goblet in her hand, to the left.
You are not in the humour to-night. Ha, ha, ha! That means no great matter, I know.
[Softly, as she fills the goblet.] Oh, that this might be the last beaker I should fill for you.
[She leaves the goblet on the table and is making her way out to the left.
Hark to me, Margit. For one thing you may thank Heaven, and that is, that I made you my wife before Gudmund Alfson came back.
[Stops at the door.] Why so?
Why, say you? Am not I ten times the richer man? And certain I am that he would have sought you for his wife, had you not been the mistress of Solhoug.
[Drawing nearer and glancing at the goblet.] Say you so?
I could take my oath upon it. Bengt Gauteson has two sharp eyes in his head. But he may still have Signë.
And you think he will—?
Take her? Aye, since he cannot have you. But had you been free,—then—Ha, ha, ha! Gudmund is like the rest. He envies me my wife. That is why I set such store by you, Margit. Here with the goblet again. And let it be full to the brim!
[Goes unwillingly across to the right.] You shall have it straightway.
Knut Gesling is a suitor for Signë, too, but him I am resolved to slay. Gudmund is an honourable man; he shall have her. Think, Margit, what good days we shall have with them for neighbours. We will go a-visiting each other, and then will we sit the live-long day, each with his wife on his knee, drinking and talking of this and of that.
[Whose mental struggle is visibly becoming more severe, involuntarily takes out the phial as she says:] No doubt, no doubt!
Ha, ha, ha! it may be that at first Gudmund will look askance at me when I take you in my arms; but that, I doubt not, he will soon get over.
This is more than woman can bear! [Pours the contents of the phial into the goblet, goes to the window and throws out the phial, then says, without looking at him.] Your beaker is full.
Then bring it hither!
[Battling in an agony of indecision, at last says.] I pray you drink no more to-night!
[Leans back in his chair and laughs.] Oho! You are impatient for my coming? Get you in; I will follow you soon.
[Suddenly decided.] Your beaker is full. [Points.] There it is.
[She goes quickly out to the left.
[Rising.] I like her well. It repents me not a whit that I took her to wife, though of heritage she owned no more than yonder goblet and the brooches of her wedding gown.
[He goes to the table at the window and takes the goblet.
[A House-Carl enters hurriedly and with scared looks, from the back.
[Calls.] Sir Bengt, Sir Bengt! haste forth with all the speed you can! Knut Gesling with an armed train is drawing near the house.
[Putting down the goblet.] Knut Gesling? Who brings the tidings?
Some of your guests espied him on the road beneath, and hastened back to warn you.
E’en so. Then will I—! Fetch me my grandfather’s battle-axe!
[He and the House-Carl, go out at the back.
[Soon after, Gudmund and Signë enter quietly and cautiously by the door on the right.
[Examining it carefully.]