[ACT III.
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG.
277
Gudmund.
[Setting down the goblet.] Margit—!
Signë.
What ails you, sister?
Margit.
[Towards the back.] Help, help! Will no one help?
[A House-Carl rushes in from the passage-way.
House-Carl.
[Calls in a terrified voice.] Lady Margit! Your husband—!
Margit.
He—has he, too, drunk—!
Gudmund.
[To himself.] Ah! now I understand—
House-Carl.
Knut Gesling has slain him.
Signë.
Slain!
Gudmund.
[Drawing his sword.] Not yet, I hope. [Whispers to Margit.] Fear not. No one has drunk from your goblet.
