She comes anon.
To greet her kinsman she needs must don
Her trinkets—a task that takes time, ’tis plain.
Gudmund.
I must see—I must see if she knows me again.
[He goes out to the left.
Margit.
[Following him-with her eyes.] How fair and manlike he is! [With a sigh.] There is little likeness ’twixt him and—[Begins putting things in order on the table, but presently stops.] “You then were free,” he said. Yes, then! [A short pause.] ’Twas a strange tale, that of the Princess who—She held another dear, and then—Aye, those women of far-off lands—I have heard it before—they are not weak as we are; they do not fear to pass from thought to deed. [Takes up a goblet which stands on the table.] ’Twas in this beaker that Gudman and I, when he went away, drank to his happy return. ’Tis well-nigh the only heirloom I brought with me to Solhoug. [Putting the goblet away in a cupboard.] How soft is this summer day; and how light it is in here! So sweetly has the sun not shone for three long years.
[Signë, and after her Gudmund, enters from the left.
Signë.