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[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-