[ACT II.
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG.
247
Gudmund.
[Looks searchingly at her.]
I scarce can say.
Margit.
You may doubtless read it in many a way;
But its truest meaning, methinks, is clear:
The church can never sever two that hold each other dear.
Gudmund.
[To himself.]
Ye saints, if she should—? Lest worse befall,
'Tis time indeed I told her all!
[Aloud.
Do you wish for my happiness—Margit, tell! </poem>
Margit.
[In joyful agitation.]
Wish for it! I!
Gudmund.
Then, wot you well,
The joy of my life now rests with you—
Margit.
[With an outburst.]
Gudmund!
Gudmund.
Listen! 'tis time you knew—
[He stops suddenly.
[Voices and laughter are heard by the river bank. Signë and some other Girls en-
