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?