Well I mind me of Signe's nature sweet.
No guile she dreamed of, no evil knew.
When I call to remembrance her eyes so blue
I must think of the angels in heaven.
But of years there have passed no fewer than seven;
In that time much may have altered. Oh, say
If she, too, has changed so while I've been away?
MARGIT.
She too? Is it, pray, in the halls of kings
That you learn such courtly ways, Sir Knight?
To remind me thus of the change time brings—
GUDMUND.
Nay, Margit, my meaning you read aright!
You were kind to me, both, in those far-away years—
Your eyes, when we parted were wet with tears.
We swore like brother and sister still
To hold together in good hap or ill.
'Mid the other maids like a sun you shone,
Far, far and wide was your beauty known.
You are no less fair than you were, I wot;
But Solhoug's mistress, I see, has forgot
The penniless kinsman. So hard is your mind
That ever of old was gentle and kind.
MARGIT. [Choking back her tears.]
Aye, of old—!
GUDMUND. [Looks compassionately at her, is silent for a little, then says in a subdued voice.
Shall we do as your husband said?
Pass the time with talk of the dear old days?
MARGIT. [Vehemently.]