Signë.
[To Margit, as they come forward beside the house.] I understand you not. You speak as though an unlooked-for happiness had befallen you. What is in your mind?
Margit.
Signë—you are still a child; you know not what it means to have ever in your heart the dread of—[Suddenly breaking off.] Think, Signë, what it must be to wither and die without ever having lived.
Signë.
[Looks at her in astonishment, and shakes her head.] Nay, but, Margit—?
Margit.
Aye, aye, you do not understand, but none the less—
[They go up again, talking to each other. Gudmund and Knut come down on the other side.
Gudmund.