Margit.[Looking out at the back.]
Margit.[Looking out at the back.]
Margit.
[Looking out at the back.]
Our guests are coming.
Our guests are coming.
Our guests are coming.
Our guests are coming.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[WhileGudmundpreludes his song.]
Hush—hush! Oh, hear!
Gudmund.[Sings.]
Gudmund.[Sings.]
Gudmund.
[Sings.]
I roamed through the uplands so heavy of cheer;The little birds quavered in bush and in brere;The little birds quavered, around and above:Wouldst know of the sowing and growing of love?It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;’Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs, and by tears;But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
I roamed through the uplands so heavy of cheer;The little birds quavered in bush and in brere;The little birds quavered, around and above:Wouldst know of the sowing and growing of love?It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;’Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs, and by tears;But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
I roamed through the uplands so heavy of cheer;The little birds quavered in bush and in brere;The little birds quavered, around and above:Wouldst know of the sowing and growing of love?
I roamed through the uplands so heavy of cheer;
The little birds quavered in bush and in brere;
The little birds quavered, around and above:
Wouldst know of the sowing and growing of love?
It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;’Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs, and by tears;But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;
’Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs, and by tears;
But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,
Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
[As he strikes the concluding chords, he goes towards the back, where he lays down his harp.
[As he strikes the concluding chords, he goes towards the back, where he lays down his harp.
Signë.[Thoughtfully, repeats to herself.]
Signë.[Thoughtfully, repeats to herself.]
Signë.
[Thoughtfully, repeats to herself.]
But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
But swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,
Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye.
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
[Absently.] Did you speak to me?—I heard not clearly—?
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
I? No, no. I only meant—[She again becomes absorbed in dreams.
I? No, no. I only meant—[She again becomes absorbed in dreams.
I? No, no. I only meant—[She again becomes absorbed in dreams.
I? No, no. I only meant—
[She again becomes absorbed in dreams.
Margit.[Half aloud; looking straight before her.]
Margit.[Half aloud; looking straight before her.]
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.
It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;’Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs and by tears.
It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;’Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs and by tears.
It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years;
’Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs and by tears.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[Returning to herself.] You said that—?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
[Drawing her hand over her brow.] Nay, ’twas nothing. Come, we must go meet our guests.
[Bengtenters with manyGuests,both men and women, through the passageway.
[Bengtenters with manyGuests,both men and women, through the passageway.
Guests.[Sing.]
Guests.[Sing.]
Guests.
[Sing.]
With song and harping enter weThe feast-hall opened wide;Peace to our hostess kind and free,All happiness to her betide.O’er Solhoug’s roof for ever mayBright as to-dayThe heavens abide.
With song and harping enter weThe feast-hall opened wide;Peace to our hostess kind and free,All happiness to her betide.O’er Solhoug’s roof for ever mayBright as to-dayThe heavens abide.
With song and harping enter weThe feast-hall opened wide;Peace to our hostess kind and free,All happiness to her betide.O’er Solhoug’s roof for ever mayBright as to-dayThe heavens abide.
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.
ACT SECOND
A birch grove adjoining the house, one corner of which is seen to the left. At the back, a footpath leads up the hillside. To the right of the footpath a river comes tumbling down a ravine and loses itself among boulders and stones. It is a light summer evening. The door leading to the house stands open; the windows are lighted up. Music is heard from within.
The Guests.[Singing in the Feast Hall.]
The Guests.[Singing in the Feast Hall.]
The Guests.
[Singing in the Feast Hall.]
Set bow to fiddle! To sound of stringsWe’ll dance till night shall furl her wings,Through the long hours glad and golden!Like blood-red blossom the maiden glows—Come, bold young wooer and hold the roseIn a soft embrace enfolden.
Set bow to fiddle! To sound of stringsWe’ll dance till night shall furl her wings,Through the long hours glad and golden!Like blood-red blossom the maiden glows—Come, bold young wooer and hold the roseIn a soft embrace enfolden.
Set bow to fiddle! To sound of stringsWe’ll dance till night shall furl her wings,Through the long hours glad and golden!Like blood-red blossom the maiden glows—Come, bold young wooer and hold the roseIn a soft embrace enfolden.
Set bow to fiddle! To sound of strings
We’ll dance till night shall furl her wings,
Through the long hours glad and golden!
Like blood-red blossom the maiden glows—
Come, bold young wooer and hold the rose
In a soft embrace enfolden.
[Knut GeslingandErik of Heggëenter from the house. Sounds of music, dancing and merriment are heard from within during what follows.
[Knut GeslingandErik of Heggëenter from the house. Sounds of music, dancing and merriment are heard from within during what follows.
Erik.
Erik.
Erik.
If only you come not to repent it, Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
That is my affair.
Erik.
Erik.
Erik.
Well, say what you will, ’tis a daring move. You are the King’s Sheriff. Commands go forth to you that you shall seize the person of Gudmund Alfson, wherever you may find him. And now, when you have him in your grasp, you proffer him your friendship, and let him go freely, whithersoever he will.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
I know what I am doing. I sought him in his own dwelling, but there he was not to be found. If, now, I went about to seize him here—think you that Dame Margit would be minded to give me Signë to wife?
Erik.
Erik.
Erik.
[With deliberation.] No, by fair means it might scarcely be, but—
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
And by foul means I am loth to proceed. Moreover, Gudmund is my friend from bygone days; and he can be helpful to me. [With decision.] Therefore it shall be as I have said. This evening no one at Solhoug shall know that Gudmund Alfson is an outlaw;—to-morrow he must look to himself.
Erik.
Erik.
Erik.
Aye, but the King’s decree?
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
Oh, the King’s decree! You know as well as I that the King’s decree is but little heeded here in the uplands. Were the King’s decree to be enforced, many a stout fellow among us would have to pay dear both for bride-rape and for man-slaying. Come this way, I would fain know where Signë—?
[They go out to the right.
[GudmundandSignëcome down the footpath at the back.
[GudmundandSignëcome down the footpath at the back.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
Oh, speak! Say on! For sweeter farSuch words than sweetest music are.
Oh, speak! Say on! For sweeter farSuch words than sweetest music are.
Oh, speak! Say on! For sweeter farSuch words than sweetest music are.
Oh, speak! Say on! For sweeter far
Such words than sweetest music are.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Signë, my flower, my lily fair!
Signë, my flower, my lily fair!
Signë, my flower, my lily fair!
Signë, my flower, my lily fair!
Signë.[In subdued, but happy wonderment.]
Signë.[In subdued, but happy wonderment.]
Signë.
[In subdued, but happy wonderment.]
I am dear to him—I!
I am dear to him—I!
I am dear to him—I!
I am dear to him—I!
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
As none other I swear.
As none other I swear.
As none other I swear.
As none other I swear.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
And is it I that can bind your will!And is it I that your heart can fill!Oh, dare I believe you?
And is it I that can bind your will!And is it I that your heart can fill!Oh, dare I believe you?
And is it I that can bind your will!And is it I that your heart can fill!Oh, dare I believe you?
And is it I that can bind your will!
And is it I that your heart can fill!
Oh, dare I believe you?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Indeed you may.List to me, Signë! The years sped away,But faithful was I in my thoughts to you,My fairest flowers, ye sisters two.My own heart I could not clearly read.When I left, my Signë was but a child,A fairy elf, like the creatures wildWho play, while we sleep, in wood and mead.But in Solhoug’s hall to-day, right loudMy heart spake, and right clearly;It told me that Margit’s a lady proud,Whilst you’re the sweet maiden I love most dearly.
Indeed you may.List to me, Signë! The years sped away,But faithful was I in my thoughts to you,My fairest flowers, ye sisters two.My own heart I could not clearly read.When I left, my Signë was but a child,A fairy elf, like the creatures wildWho play, while we sleep, in wood and mead.But in Solhoug’s hall to-day, right loudMy heart spake, and right clearly;It told me that Margit’s a lady proud,Whilst you’re the sweet maiden I love most dearly.
Indeed you may.List to me, Signë! The years sped away,But faithful was I in my thoughts to you,My fairest flowers, ye sisters two.My own heart I could not clearly read.When I left, my Signë was but a child,A fairy elf, like the creatures wildWho play, while we sleep, in wood and mead.But in Solhoug’s hall to-day, right loudMy heart spake, and right clearly;It told me that Margit’s a lady proud,Whilst you’re the sweet maiden I love most dearly.
Indeed you may.
List to me, Signë! The years sped away,
But faithful was I in my thoughts to you,
My fairest flowers, ye sisters two.
My own heart I could not clearly read.
When I left, my Signë was but a child,
A fairy elf, like the creatures wild
Who play, while we sleep, in wood and mead.
But in Solhoug’s hall to-day, right loud
My heart spake, and right clearly;
It told me that Margit’s a lady proud,
Whilst you’re the sweet maiden I love most dearly.
Signë.[Who has only half listened to his words.]
Signë.[Who has only half listened to his words.]
Signë.
[Who has only half listened to his words.]
I mind me, we sat in the hearth’s red glow,One winter evening—’tis long ago—And you sang to me of the maiden fairWhom the neckan had lured to his watery lair.There she forgot both father and mother,There she forgot both sister and brother;Heaven and earth and her Christian speech,And her God, she forgot them all and each.But close by the strand a stripling stoodAnd he was heartsore and heavy of mood.He struck from his harpstrings notes of woe,That wide o’er the waters rang loud, rang low.The spell-bound maid in the tarn so deep,His strains awoke from her heavy sleep.The neckan must grant her release from his rule,She rose through the lilies afloat on the pool—Then looked she to heaven while on green earth she trod,And wakened once more to her faith and her God.
I mind me, we sat in the hearth’s red glow,One winter evening—’tis long ago—And you sang to me of the maiden fairWhom the neckan had lured to his watery lair.There she forgot both father and mother,There she forgot both sister and brother;Heaven and earth and her Christian speech,And her God, she forgot them all and each.But close by the strand a stripling stoodAnd he was heartsore and heavy of mood.He struck from his harpstrings notes of woe,That wide o’er the waters rang loud, rang low.The spell-bound maid in the tarn so deep,His strains awoke from her heavy sleep.The neckan must grant her release from his rule,She rose through the lilies afloat on the pool—Then looked she to heaven while on green earth she trod,And wakened once more to her faith and her God.
I mind me, we sat in the hearth’s red glow,One winter evening—’tis long ago—And you sang to me of the maiden fairWhom the neckan had lured to his watery lair.There she forgot both father and mother,There she forgot both sister and brother;Heaven and earth and her Christian speech,And her God, she forgot them all and each.But close by the strand a stripling stoodAnd he was heartsore and heavy of mood.He struck from his harpstrings notes of woe,That wide o’er the waters rang loud, rang low.The spell-bound maid in the tarn so deep,His strains awoke from her heavy sleep.The neckan must grant her release from his rule,She rose through the lilies afloat on the pool—Then looked she to heaven while on green earth she trod,And wakened once more to her faith and her God.
I mind me, we sat in the hearth’s red glow,
One winter evening—’tis long ago—
And you sang to me of the maiden fair
Whom the neckan had lured to his watery lair.
There she forgot both father and mother,
There she forgot both sister and brother;
Heaven and earth and her Christian speech,
And her God, she forgot them all and each.
But close by the strand a stripling stood
And he was heartsore and heavy of mood.
He struck from his harpstrings notes of woe,
That wide o’er the waters rang loud, rang low.
The spell-bound maid in the tarn so deep,
His strains awoke from her heavy sleep.
The neckan must grant her release from his rule,
She rose through the lilies afloat on the pool—
Then looked she to heaven while on green earth she trod,
And wakened once more to her faith and her God.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Signë, my fairest of flowers!
Signë, my fairest of flowers!
Signë, my fairest of flowers!
Signë, my fairest of flowers!
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
It seemsThat I, too, have lived in a world of dreams.But the strange deep words you to-night have spoken,Of the power of love, have my slumber broken.The heavens seemed never so blue to me,Never the world so fair;I can understand, as I roam with thee,The song of the birds in air.
It seemsThat I, too, have lived in a world of dreams.But the strange deep words you to-night have spoken,Of the power of love, have my slumber broken.The heavens seemed never so blue to me,Never the world so fair;I can understand, as I roam with thee,The song of the birds in air.
It seemsThat I, too, have lived in a world of dreams.But the strange deep words you to-night have spoken,Of the power of love, have my slumber broken.The heavens seemed never so blue to me,Never the world so fair;I can understand, as I roam with thee,The song of the birds in air.
It seems
That I, too, have lived in a world of dreams.
But the strange deep words you to-night have spoken,
Of the power of love, have my slumber broken.
The heavens seemed never so blue to me,
Never the world so fair;
I can understand, as I roam with thee,
The song of the birds in air.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
So mighty is love—it stirs in the breastThoughts and longings and happy unrest.But come, let us both to your sister go.
So mighty is love—it stirs in the breastThoughts and longings and happy unrest.But come, let us both to your sister go.
So mighty is love—it stirs in the breastThoughts and longings and happy unrest.But come, let us both to your sister go.
So mighty is love—it stirs in the breast
Thoughts and longings and happy unrest.
But come, let us both to your sister go.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
Would you tell her—?
Would you tell her—?
Would you tell her—?
Would you tell her—?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Everything she must know.
Everything she must know.
Everything she must know.
Everything she must know.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
Then go you alone;—I feel that my cheekWould be hot with blushes to hear you speak.
Then go you alone;—I feel that my cheekWould be hot with blushes to hear you speak.
Then go you alone;—I feel that my cheekWould be hot with blushes to hear you speak.
Then go you alone;—I feel that my cheek
Would be hot with blushes to hear you speak.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
So be it, I go.
So be it, I go.
So be it, I go.
So be it, I go.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
And here will I bide;[Listening towards the right.Or better—down by the riverside,I hear Knut Gesling, with maidens and men.
And here will I bide;[Listening towards the right.Or better—down by the riverside,I hear Knut Gesling, with maidens and men.
And here will I bide;[Listening towards the right.Or better—down by the riverside,I hear Knut Gesling, with maidens and men.
And here will I bide;
[Listening towards the right.
Or better—down by the riverside,
I hear Knut Gesling, with maidens and men.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
There will you stay?
There will you stay?
There will you stay?
There will you stay?
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
Till you come again.
Till you come again.
Till you come again.
Till you come again.
[She goes out to the right.Gudmundgoes into the house.[Margitenters from behind the house on the left.
[She goes out to the right.Gudmundgoes into the house.
[Margitenters from behind the house on the left.
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
In the hall there is gladness and revelry;The dancers foot it with jest and glee.The air weighed hot on my brow and breast;For Gudmund, he was not there.[She draws a deep breath.Out here ’tis better: here’s quiet and rest.How sweet is the cool night air![A brooding silence.That horrible thought! Oh, why should it beThat wherever I go it follows me?The phial—doth a secret draught contain;A drop of this in my—enemy’s cup,And his life would sicken and wither up;The leech’s skill would be tried in vain.[Again a silence.Were I sure that Gudmund—held me dear—Then little I’d care for—[Gudmund enters from the house.
In the hall there is gladness and revelry;The dancers foot it with jest and glee.The air weighed hot on my brow and breast;For Gudmund, he was not there.[She draws a deep breath.Out here ’tis better: here’s quiet and rest.How sweet is the cool night air![A brooding silence.That horrible thought! Oh, why should it beThat wherever I go it follows me?The phial—doth a secret draught contain;A drop of this in my—enemy’s cup,And his life would sicken and wither up;The leech’s skill would be tried in vain.[Again a silence.Were I sure that Gudmund—held me dear—Then little I’d care for—[Gudmund enters from the house.
In the hall there is gladness and revelry;The dancers foot it with jest and glee.The air weighed hot on my brow and breast;For Gudmund, he was not there.[She draws a deep breath.Out here ’tis better: here’s quiet and rest.How sweet is the cool night air![A brooding silence.That horrible thought! Oh, why should it beThat wherever I go it follows me?The phial—doth a secret draught contain;A drop of this in my—enemy’s cup,And his life would sicken and wither up;The leech’s skill would be tried in vain.[Again a silence.Were I sure that Gudmund—held me dear—Then little I’d care for—[Gudmund enters from the house.
In the hall there is gladness and revelry;
The dancers foot it with jest and glee.
The air weighed hot on my brow and breast;
For Gudmund, he was not there.
[She draws a deep breath.
Out here ’tis better: here’s quiet and rest.
How sweet is the cool night air!
[A brooding silence.
That horrible thought! Oh, why should it be
That wherever I go it follows me?
The phial—doth a secret draught contain;
A drop of this in my—enemy’s cup,
And his life would sicken and wither up;
The leech’s skill would be tried in vain.
[Again a silence.
Were I sure that Gudmund—held me dear—
Then little I’d care for—
[Gudmund enters from the house.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
You, Margit, here?And alone? I have sought you everywhere.
You, Margit, here?And alone? I have sought you everywhere.
You, Margit, here?And alone? I have sought you everywhere.
You, Margit, here?
And alone? I have sought you everywhere.
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
’Tis cool here. I sickened of heat and glare.See you how yonder the white mists glideSoftly over the marshes wide?Here it is neither dark nor light,But midway between them—[To herself.—as in my breast.
’Tis cool here. I sickened of heat and glare.See you how yonder the white mists glideSoftly over the marshes wide?Here it is neither dark nor light,But midway between them—[To herself.—as in my breast.
’Tis cool here. I sickened of heat and glare.See you how yonder the white mists glideSoftly over the marshes wide?Here it is neither dark nor light,But midway between them—[To herself.—as in my breast.
’Tis cool here. I sickened of heat and glare.
See you how yonder the white mists glide
Softly over the marshes wide?
Here it is neither dark nor light,
But midway between them—
[To herself.
—as in my breast.
[Looking at him.
Is’t not so—when you wander on such a nightYou hear, though but half to yourself confessed,A stirring of secret life through the hush,In tree and in leaf, in flower and in rush?[With a sudden change of tone.Can you guess what I wish?
Is’t not so—when you wander on such a nightYou hear, though but half to yourself confessed,A stirring of secret life through the hush,In tree and in leaf, in flower and in rush?[With a sudden change of tone.Can you guess what I wish?
Is’t not so—when you wander on such a nightYou hear, though but half to yourself confessed,A stirring of secret life through the hush,In tree and in leaf, in flower and in rush?[With a sudden change of tone.Can you guess what I wish?
Is’t not so—when you wander on such a night
You hear, though but half to yourself confessed,
A stirring of secret life through the hush,
In tree and in leaf, in flower and in rush?
[With a sudden change of tone.
Can you guess what I wish?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Well?
Well?
Well?
Well?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
That I could beThe nixie that haunts yonder upland lea.How cunningly I should weave my spell!Trust me—!
That I could beThe nixie that haunts yonder upland lea.How cunningly I should weave my spell!Trust me—!
That I could beThe nixie that haunts yonder upland lea.How cunningly I should weave my spell!Trust me—!
That I could be
The nixie that haunts yonder upland lea.
How cunningly I should weave my spell!
Trust me—!
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Margit, what ails you? Tell!
Margit, what ails you? Tell!
Margit, what ails you? Tell!
Margit, what ails you? Tell!
Margit.[Paying no heed to him.]
Margit.[Paying no heed to him.]
Margit.
[Paying no heed to him.]
How I should quaver my magic lay!Quaver and croon it both night and day![With growing vehemence.How I would lure the knight so boldThrough the greenwood glades to my mountain hold.There were the world and its woes forgotIn the burning joys of our blissful lot.
How I should quaver my magic lay!Quaver and croon it both night and day![With growing vehemence.How I would lure the knight so boldThrough the greenwood glades to my mountain hold.There were the world and its woes forgotIn the burning joys of our blissful lot.
How I should quaver my magic lay!Quaver and croon it both night and day![With growing vehemence.How I would lure the knight so boldThrough the greenwood glades to my mountain hold.There were the world and its woes forgotIn the burning joys of our blissful lot.
How I should quaver my magic lay!
Quaver and croon it both night and day!
[With growing vehemence.
How I would lure the knight so bold
Through the greenwood glades to my mountain hold.
There were the world and its woes forgot
In the burning joys of our blissful lot.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Margit! Margit!
Margit! Margit!
Margit! Margit!
Margit! Margit!
Margit.[Ever more wildly.]
Margit.[Ever more wildly.]
Margit.
[Ever more wildly.]
At midnight’s hourSweet were our sleep in my lonely bower;—And if death should come with the dawn, I trow’Twere sweet to die so;—what thinkest thou?
At midnight’s hourSweet were our sleep in my lonely bower;—And if death should come with the dawn, I trow’Twere sweet to die so;—what thinkest thou?
At midnight’s hourSweet were our sleep in my lonely bower;—And if death should come with the dawn, I trow’Twere sweet to die so;—what thinkest thou?
At midnight’s hour
Sweet were our sleep in my lonely bower;—
And if death should come with the dawn, I trow
’Twere sweet to die so;—what thinkest thou?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
You are sick!
You are sick!
You are sick!
You are sick!
Margit.[Bursting into laughter.]
Margit.[Bursting into laughter.]
Margit.
[Bursting into laughter.]
Ha, ha!—Let me laugh! ’Tis goodTo laugh when the heart is in laughing mood!
Ha, ha!—Let me laugh! ’Tis goodTo laugh when the heart is in laughing mood!
Ha, ha!—Let me laugh! ’Tis goodTo laugh when the heart is in laughing mood!
Ha, ha!—Let me laugh! ’Tis good
To laugh when the heart is in laughing mood!
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
I see that you still have the same wild soulAs of old—
I see that you still have the same wild soulAs of old—
I see that you still have the same wild soulAs of old—
I see that you still have the same wild soul
As of old—
Margit.[With sudden seriousness.]
Margit.[With sudden seriousness.]
Margit.
[With sudden seriousness.]
Nay, let not that vex your mind,’Tis only at midnight it mocks control;By day I am timid as any hind.How tame I have grown, you yourself must say,When you think on the women in lands far away—Of that fair Princess—ah,shewas wild!Beside her lamblike am I and mild.She did not helplessly yearn and brood,She would have acted; and that—
Nay, let not that vex your mind,’Tis only at midnight it mocks control;By day I am timid as any hind.How tame I have grown, you yourself must say,When you think on the women in lands far away—Of that fair Princess—ah,shewas wild!Beside her lamblike am I and mild.She did not helplessly yearn and brood,She would have acted; and that—
Nay, let not that vex your mind,’Tis only at midnight it mocks control;By day I am timid as any hind.How tame I have grown, you yourself must say,When you think on the women in lands far away—Of that fair Princess—ah,shewas wild!Beside her lamblike am I and mild.She did not helplessly yearn and brood,She would have acted; and that—
Nay, let not that vex your mind,
’Tis only at midnight it mocks control;
By day I am timid as any hind.
How tame I have grown, you yourself must say,
When you think on the women in lands far away—
Of that fair Princess—ah,shewas wild!
Beside her lamblike am I and mild.
She did not helplessly yearn and brood,
She would have acted; and that—
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
’Tis goodYou remind me; straightway I’ll cast awayWhat to me is valueless after this day—
’Tis goodYou remind me; straightway I’ll cast awayWhat to me is valueless after this day—
’Tis goodYou remind me; straightway I’ll cast awayWhat to me is valueless after this day—
’Tis good
You remind me; straightway I’ll cast away
What to me is valueless after this day—
[Takes out the phial.
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
The phial! You meant—?
The phial! You meant—?
The phial! You meant—?
The phial! You meant—?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
I thought it might beAt need a friend that should set me freeShould the King’s men chance to lay hands on me.But from to-night it has lost its worth;Now will I fight all the kings of earth,Gather my kinsfolk and friends to the strife,And battle right stoutly for freedom and life.[Is about to throw the phial against a rock.
I thought it might beAt need a friend that should set me freeShould the King’s men chance to lay hands on me.But from to-night it has lost its worth;Now will I fight all the kings of earth,Gather my kinsfolk and friends to the strife,And battle right stoutly for freedom and life.[Is about to throw the phial against a rock.
I thought it might beAt need a friend that should set me freeShould the King’s men chance to lay hands on me.But from to-night it has lost its worth;Now will I fight all the kings of earth,Gather my kinsfolk and friends to the strife,And battle right stoutly for freedom and life.[Is about to throw the phial against a rock.
I thought it might be
At need a friend that should set me free
Should the King’s men chance to lay hands on me.
But from to-night it has lost its worth;
Now will I fight all the kings of earth,
Gather my kinsfolk and friends to the strife,
And battle right stoutly for freedom and life.
[Is about to throw the phial against a rock.
Margit.[Seizing his arm.]
Margit.[Seizing his arm.]
Margit.
[Seizing his arm.]
Nay, hold! Let me have it—
Nay, hold! Let me have it—
Nay, hold! Let me have it—
Nay, hold! Let me have it—
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
First tell me why?
First tell me why?
First tell me why?
First tell me why?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
I’d fain fling it down to the neckan hard by,Who so often has made my dull hours fleetWith his harping and songs, so strange and sweet.Give it me!
I’d fain fling it down to the neckan hard by,Who so often has made my dull hours fleetWith his harping and songs, so strange and sweet.Give it me!
I’d fain fling it down to the neckan hard by,Who so often has made my dull hours fleetWith his harping and songs, so strange and sweet.Give it me!
I’d fain fling it down to the neckan hard by,
Who so often has made my dull hours fleet
With his harping and songs, so strange and sweet.
Give it me!
[Takes the phial from his hand.
There!
There!
There!
There!
[Feigns to throw it into the river.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
[Goes to the right, and looks down into the ravine.]
Have you thrown it away?
Have you thrown it away?
Have you thrown it away?
Have you thrown it away?
Margit.[Concealing the phial.]
Margit.[Concealing the phial.]
Margit.
[Concealing the phial.]
Aye, surely! You saw—[Whispers as she goes towards the house.Now God help and spare me!The ice must now either break or bear me![Aloud.Gudmund!
Aye, surely! You saw—[Whispers as she goes towards the house.Now God help and spare me!The ice must now either break or bear me![Aloud.Gudmund!
Aye, surely! You saw—[Whispers as she goes towards the house.Now God help and spare me!The ice must now either break or bear me![Aloud.Gudmund!
Aye, surely! You saw—
[Whispers as she goes towards the house.
Now God help and spare me!
The ice must now either break or bear me!
[Aloud.
Gudmund!
Gudmund.[Approaching.]
Gudmund.[Approaching.]
Gudmund.
[Approaching.]
What would you?
What would you?
What would you?
What would you?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
Teach me, I pray,How to interpret the ancient layThey sing of the church in the valley there:A gentle knight and a lady fair,They loved each other well.That very day on her bier she layHe on his sword-point fell.They buried her by the northward spire,And him by the south kirk wall;And theretofore grew neither bush nor briarIn the hallowed ground at all.But next spring from their coffins twainTwo lilies fair upgrew—And by and by, o’er the roof-tree high,They twined and they bloomed the whole year through.How read you the riddle?
Teach me, I pray,How to interpret the ancient layThey sing of the church in the valley there:A gentle knight and a lady fair,They loved each other well.That very day on her bier she layHe on his sword-point fell.They buried her by the northward spire,And him by the south kirk wall;And theretofore grew neither bush nor briarIn the hallowed ground at all.But next spring from their coffins twainTwo lilies fair upgrew—And by and by, o’er the roof-tree high,They twined and they bloomed the whole year through.How read you the riddle?
Teach me, I pray,How to interpret the ancient layThey sing of the church in the valley there:A gentle knight and a lady fair,They loved each other well.That very day on her bier she layHe on his sword-point fell.They buried her by the northward spire,And him by the south kirk wall;And theretofore grew neither bush nor briarIn the hallowed ground at all.But next spring from their coffins twainTwo lilies fair upgrew—And by and by, o’er the roof-tree high,They twined and they bloomed the whole year through.How read you the riddle?
Teach me, I pray,
How to interpret the ancient lay
They sing of the church in the valley there:
A gentle knight and a lady fair,
They loved each other well.
That very day on her bier she lay
He on his sword-point fell.
They buried her by the northward spire,
And him by the south kirk wall;
And theretofore grew neither bush nor briar
In the hallowed ground at all.
But next spring from their coffins twain
Two lilies fair upgrew—
And by and by, o’er the roof-tree high,
They twined and they bloomed the whole year through.
How read you the riddle?
Gudmund.[Looks searchingly at her.]
Gudmund.[Looks searchingly at her.]
Gudmund.
[Looks searchingly at her.]
I scarce can say.
I scarce can say.
I scarce can say.
I scarce can say.
Margit.
Margit.
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.
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.
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.
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.]
Gudmund.[To himself.]
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!
Ye saints, if she should—? Lest worse befall,’Tis time indeed I told her all![Aloud.Do you wish for my happiness—Margit, tell!
Ye saints, if she should—? Lest worse befall,’Tis time indeed I told her all![Aloud.Do you wish for my happiness—Margit, tell!
Ye saints, if she should—? Lest worse befall,
’Tis time indeed I told her all!
[Aloud.
Do you wish for my happiness—Margit, tell!
Margit.[In joyful agitation.]
Margit.[In joyful agitation.]
Margit.
[In joyful agitation.]
Wish for it! I!
Wish for it! I!
Wish for it! I!
Wish for it! I!
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Then, wot you well,The joy of my life now rests with you—
Then, wot you well,The joy of my life now rests with you—
Then, wot you well,The joy of my life now rests with you—
Then, wot you well,
The joy of my life now rests with you—
Margit.[With an outburst.]
Margit.[With an outburst.]
Margit.
[With an outburst.]
Gudmund!
Gudmund!
Gudmund!
Gudmund!
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Listen! ’tis time you knew—[He stops suddenly.
Listen! ’tis time you knew—[He stops suddenly.
Listen! ’tis time you knew—[He stops suddenly.
Listen! ’tis time you knew—
[He stops suddenly.
[Voices and laughter are heard by the river bank.Signëand some otherGirlsenterfrom the right, accompanied byKnut, Erikand severalYounger Men.
[Voices and laughter are heard by the river bank.Signëand some otherGirlsenterfrom the right, accompanied byKnut, Erikand severalYounger Men.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
[Still at a distance.] Gudmund Alfson! Wait; I must speak a word with you.
[He stops, talking toErik.The otherGuestsin the meantime enter the house.
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
[To herself.] The joy of his life—! What else can he mean but—! [Half aloud.] Signë—my dear, dear sister!
[She puts her arm roundSignë’swaist, and they go towards the back talking to each other.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
[Softly, as he follows them with his eyes.]
Aye, so it were wisest. Both Signë and I must away from Solhoug. Knut Gesling has shown himself my friend; he will help me.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
[Softly, toErik.] Yes, yes, I say, Gudmund is her kinsman; he can best plead my cause.
Erik.
Erik.
Erik.
Well, as you will. [He goes into the house.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
[Approaching.] Listen, Gudmund—
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
[Smiling.] Come you to tell me that you dare no longer let me go free.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
Dare! Be at your ease as to that. Knut Gesling dares whatever he will. No, ’tis another matter. You know that here in the district, I am held to be a wild, unruly companion—
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Aye, and if rumour lies not—
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
Why no, much that it reports may be true enough. But now, I must tell you—
[They go, conversing, up towards the back.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[ToMargit,as they come forward beside the house.] I understand you not. You speak as though an unlooked-for happiness had befallen you. What is in your mind?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
Signë—you are still a child; you know not what it means to have ever in your heart the dread of—[Suddenly breaking off.] Think, Signë, what it must be to wither and die without ever having lived.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[Looks at her in astonishment, and shakes her head.] Nay, but, Margit—?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
Aye, aye, you do not understand, but none the less—
[They go up again, talking to each other.GudmundandKnutcome down on the other side.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Well, if so it be—if this wild life no longer contents you—then I will give you the best counsel that ever friend gave to friend: take to wife an honourable maiden.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
Say you so? And if I now told you that ’tis even that I have in mind?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Good luck and happiness to you then, Knut Gesling! And now you must know that I too—
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
You? Are you, too, so purposed?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Aye, truly. But the King’s wrath;—I am a banished man—
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
Nay, to that you need give but little thought. As yet there is no one here, save Dame Margit, that knows aught of the matter; and so long as I am your friend, you have one in whom you can trust securely. Now I must tell you—
[He proceeds in a whisper as they go up again.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[As she andMargitagain advance.] But tell me then, Margit—!
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
More I dare not tell you.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
Then will I be more open-hearted than you. But first answer me one question. [Bashfully, with hesitation.] Is there—is there no one who has told you anything concerning me?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
Concerning you? Nay, what should that be?
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[As before, looking downwards.] You said to me this morning: if a wooer came riding hither—?
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
That is true. [To herself.] Knut Gesling—has he already—? [Eagerly, toSignë.] Well? What then?
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[Softly, but with exultation.] The wooer has come! He has come, Margit! I knew not then whom you meant; but now—!
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
And what have you answered him?
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
Oh, how should I know? [Flinging her arms round her sister’s neck.] But the world seems to me so rich and beautiful since the moment when he told me that he held me dear.
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
Why, Signë, Signë, I cannot understand that you should so quickly—! You scarce knew him before to-day.
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
Oh, ’tis but little I yet know of love; but thisI know that what the song says is true:Full swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye—
Oh, ’tis but little I yet know of love; but thisI know that what the song says is true:Full swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye—
Oh, ’tis but little I yet know of love; but thisI know that what the song says is true:Full swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye—
Oh, ’tis but little I yet know of love; but this
I know that what the song says is true:
Full swiftly ’tis sown; ere a moment speeds by,
Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye—
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
So be it; and since so it is, I need no longer hold aught concealed from you. Ah—
[She stops suddenly, as she seesKnutandGudmundapproaching.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
[In a tone of satisfaction.] Ha, this is as I would have it, Gudmund. Here is my hand!
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
[To herself.] What is this?
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
[ToKnut.] And here is mine!
[They shake hands.
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
But now we must each of us name who it is—
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Good. Here at Solhoug, among so many fair women, I have found her whom—
Knut.
Knut.
Knut.
I too. And I will bear her home this very night, if it be needful.
Margit.
Margit.
Margit.
[Who has approached unobserved.] All saints in heaven!
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
Gudmund.
[Nods toKnut.] The same is my intent!
Signë.
Signë.
Signë.
[Who has also been listening.] Gudmund!