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—