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The Feast at Solhoug eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 50 pages of information about The Feast at Solhoug.

BENGT.

  Nay, that is our firm resolve.

KNUT.

  [To MARGIT.] Have no fear.

BENGT.

  And what we have firmly resolved stands fast.

KNUT.

That I like well, Sir Bengt Gauteson.  I, too, say the same; and I have pledged myself at the feast-board to wed your kinswoman.  You may be sure that my pledge, too, will stand fast.—­God’s peace till to-night!

     [He and ERIK, with their men, go out at the back.
     [BENGT accompanies them to the door.  The sound of the bells
       has in the meantime ceased.

BENGT.

  [Returning.] Methought he seemed to threaten us as he departed.

MARGIT.

  [Absently.] Aye, so it seemed.

BENGT.

Knut Gesling is an ill man to fall out with.  And when I bethink me, we gave him over many hard words.  But come, let us not brood over that.  To-day we must be merry, Margit!—­as I trow we have both good reason to be.

MARGIT.

  [With a weary smile.] Aye, surely, surely.

BENGT.

Tis true I was no mere stripling when I courted you.  But well I wot I was the richest man for many and many a mile.  You were a fair maiden, and nobly born; but your dowry would have tempted no wooer.

MARGIT.

  [To herself.] Yet was I then so rich.

BENGT.

  What said you, my wife?

MARGIT.

Oh, nothing, nothing. [Crosses to the right.] I will deck me with pearls and rings.  Is not to-night a time of rejoicing for me?

BENGT.

I am fain to hear you say it.  Let me see that you deck you in your best attire, that our guests may say:  Happy she who mated with Bengt Gauteson.—­But now must I to the larder; there are many things to-day that must not be over-looked.

     [He goes out to the left.

MARGIT. [Sinks down on a chair by the table on the right.]

’Twas well he departed.  While here he remains
Meseems the blood freezes within my veins;
Meseems that a crushing mighty and cold
My heart in its clutches doth still enfold.
     [With tears she cannot repress.

He is my husband!  I am his wife! 
How long, how long lasts a woman’s life? 
Sixty years, mayhap—­God pity me
Who am not yet full twenty-three!
     [More calmly after a short silence.

Hard, so long in a gilded cage to pine;
Hard a hopeless prisoner’s lot—­and mine.
     [Absently fingering the ornaments on the table, and beginning
       to put them on.

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