The Feast at Solhoug | Page 9

in fee, For that I
am too busy, and my heart too full of glee!
[SIGNE runs out to the left, singing.
MARGIT.
[After a pause.] Gudmund Alfson coming hither! Hither--to Solhoug?
No, no, it cannot be.--Signe heard him singing, she said! When I have
heard the pine-trees moaning in the forest afar, when I have heard the
waterfall thunder and the birds pipe their lure in the tree-tops, it has
many a time seemed to me as though, through it all, the sound of
Gudmund's songs came blended. And yet he was far from here.--Signe
has deceived herself. Gudmund cannot be coming.
[BENGT enters hastily from the back.
BENGT.
[Entering, calls loudly.] An unlooked-for guest my wife!

MARGIT.
What guest?
BENGT.
Your kinsman, Gudmund Alfson! [Calls through the doorway on the
right.] Let the best guest-room be prepared--and that forthwith!
MARGIT.
Is he, then, already here?
BENGT.
[Looking out through the passage-way.] Nay, not yet; but he cannot be
far off. [Calls again to the right.] The carved oak bed, with the
dragon-heads! [Advances to MARGIT.] His shield- bearer brings a
message of greeting from him; and he himself is close behind.
MARGIT.
His shield-bearer! Comes he hither with a shield-bearer!
BENGT.
Aye, by my faith he does. He has a shield-bearer and six armed men in
his train. What would you? Gudmund Alfson is a far other man than he
was when he set forth to seek his fortune. But I must ride forth to seek
him. [Calls out.] The gilded saddle on my horse! And forget not the
bridle with the serpents' heads! [Looks out to the back.] Ha, there he is
already 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