The Feast at Solhoug | Page 9

at the gate! Well, then, my staff--my silver-headed staff! Such a lordly knight--Heaven save us!--we must receive him with honour, with all seemly honour!
[Goes hastily out to the back.
MARGIT. [Brooding]
Alone he departed, a penniless swain; With esquires and henchmen now comes he again. What would he? Comes he, forsooth, to see My bitter and gnawing misery? Would he try how long, in my lot accurst, I can writhe and moan, ere my heart-strings burst-- Thinks he that--? Ah, let him only try! Full little joy shall he reap thereby. [She beckons through the doorway on the right. Three handmaidens enter.
List, little maids, what I say to you: Find me my silken mantle blue. Go with me into my bower anon: My richest of velvets and furs do on. Two of you shall deck me in scarlet and vair, The third shall wind pearl-strings into my hair. All my jewels and gauds bear away with ye! [The handmaids go out to the left, taking the ornaments with them.
Since Margit the Hill-King's bride must be, Well! don we the queenly livery!
[She goes out to the left. [BENGT ushers in GUDMUND ALFSON, through the pent-house passage at the back.
BENGT.
And now once more--welcome under Solhoug's roof, my wife's kinsman.
GUDMUND.
I thank you. And how goes it with her? She thrives well in every way, I make no doubt?
BENGT.
Aye, you may be sure she does. There is nothing she lacks. She has five handmaidens, no less, at her beck and call; a courser stands ready saddled in the stall when she lists to ride abroad. In one word, she has all that a noble lady can desire to make her happy in her lot.
GUDMUND.
And Margit--is she then happy?
BENGT.
God and all men would think that she must be; but, strange to say--
GUDMUND.
What mean you?
BENGT.
Well, believe it or not as you list, but it seems to me that Margit was merrier of heart in the days of her poverty, than since she became the lady of Solhoug.
GUDMUND.
[To himself.] I knew it; so it must be.
BENGT.
What say you, kinsman?
GUDMUND.
I say that I wonder greatly at what you tell me of your wife.
BENGT.
Aye, you may be sure I wonder at it too. On the faith and troth of an honest gentleman, 'tis beyond me to guess what more she can desire. I am about her all day long; and no one can say of me that I rule her harshly. All the cares of household and husbandry I have taken on myself; yet notwithstanding-- Well, well, you were ever a merry heart; I doubt not you will bring sunshine with you. Hush! here comes Dame Margit! Let her not see that I--
[MARGIT enters from the left, richly dressed.
GUDMUND.
[Going to meet her.] Margit--my dear Margit!
MARGIT.
[Stops, and looks at him without recognition.] Your pardon, Sir Knight; but--? [As though she only now recognized him.] Surely, if I mistake not, 'tis Gudmund Alfson.
[Holding out her hand to him.
GUDMUND.
[Without taking it.] And you did not at once know me again?
BENGT.
[Laughing.] Why, Margit, of what are you thinking? I told you but a moment agone that your kinsman--
MARGIT.
[Crossing to the table on the right.] Twelve years is a long time, Gudmund. The freshest plant may wither ten times over in that space.
GUDMUND.
'Tis seven years since last we met.
MARGIT.
Surely it must be more than that.
GUDMUND.
[Looking at her.] I could almost think so. But 'tis as I say.
MARGIT.
How strange! I must have been but a child then; and it seems to me a whole eternity since I was a child. [Throws herself down on a chair.] Well, sit you down, my kinsman! Rest you, for to-night you shall dance, and rejoice us with your singing. [With a forced smile.] Doubtless you know we are merry here to-day--we are holding a feast.
GUDMUND.
'Twas told me as I entered your homestead.
BENGT.
Aye, 'tis three years to-day since I became--
MARGIT.
[Interrupting.] My kinsman has already heard it. [To GUDMUND.] Will you not lay aside your cloak?
GUDMUND.
I thank you, Dame Margit; but it seems to me cold here--colder than I had foreseen.
BENGT.
For my part, I am warm enough; but then I have a hundred things to do and to take order for. [To MARGIT.] Let not the time seem long to our guest while I am absent. You can talk together of the old days.
[Going.
MARGIT.
[Hesitating.] Are you going? Will you not rather--?
BENGT.
[Laughing, to GUDMUND, as he comes forward again.] See you well-- Sir Bengt of Solhoug is the man to make the women fain of him. How short so e'er the space, my wife cannot abide to be without me. [To MARGIT, caressing her.] Content you; I shall soon be with you again.
[He goes out to the back.
MARGIT.
[To herself.] Oh, torture, to have to endure it all.
[A short silence.
GUDMUND.
How goes it, I pray, with your sister dear?
MARGIT.
Right well, I thank you.
GUDMUND.
They said she was