230
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG.
[ACT I.
Gudmund.
[Lowering his voice.]
Holds a secret draught.
A drop of this in your enemy's cup
And his life will sicken and wither up.
No leechcraft helps 'gainst the deadly thing.
Margit.
And that—?
Gudmund.
That draught was meant for the King.
Margit.
Great God!
Gudmund.
[Putting up the phial again.]
That I found it was well for them all.
In three days more was our voyage ended;
Then I fled, by my faithful men attended.
For I knew right well, in the royal hall,
That Audun subtly would work my fall,—
Accusing me—
Margit.
Aye, but at Solhoug he
Cannot harm you. All as of old will be.
Gudmund.
All? Nay, Margit—you then were free.
Margit.
You mean—?
