With you I am rich enough here, meseeems,
With summer and sun and the murmuring streams,
And the birds in the branches quiring.
Dear sister mine--here shall my dwelling be;
And to give any wooer my hand 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.
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