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Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906

"The Feast at Solhoug"


Margit!

MARGIT.
[Catches sight of them.] Gudmund! And Signe! Are you here?

SIGNE.
[Going towards her.] Margit--dear sister!

MARGIT.
[Appalled, having seen the goblet which GUDMUND still holds in
his hand.] The goblet! Who has drunk from it?

GUDMUND.
[Confused.] Drunk--? I and Signe--we meant--

MARGIT.
[Screams.] O God, have mercy! Help! Help! They will die!

GUDMUND.
[Setting down the goblet.] Margit--!

SIGNE.
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.

SIGNE.
Slain!

GUDMUND.
[Drawing his sword.] Not yet, I hope. [Whispers to MARGIT.]
Fear not. No one has drunk from your goblet.

MARGIT.
Then thanks be to God, who has saved us all!
[She sinks down on a chair to the left. Gudmund hastens
towards the door at the back.

ANOTHER HOUSE-CARL.
[Enters, stopping him.] You come too late. Sir Bengt is dead.

GUDMUND.
Too late, then, too late.

HOUSE-CARL.
The guests and your men have prevailed against the murderous
crew. Knut Gesling and his men are prisoners.


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