[ACT I.
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG.
235
Signë.
I? No, no. I only meant—
[She again becomes absorbed in dreams.
Margit.
[Half aloud; looking straight before her.]
It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;
'Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs and by tears.
Signë.
[Returning to herself.] You said that—?
Margit.
[Drawing her hand over her brow.] Nay, 'twas nothing. Come, we must go meet our guests.
[Bengt enters with many Guests, both men and women, through the passageway.
Guests.
[Sing.]
With song and harping enter we
The feast-hall opened wide;
Peace to our hostess kind and free,
All happiness to her betide.
O'er Solhoug's roof for ever may
Bright as to-day
The heavens abide.
