No, no, not of them!
Their memory's dead.
My mind unwillingly backward strays.
Tell rather of what your life has been,
Of what in the wide world you've done and seen.
Adventures you've lacked not, well I ween—
In all the warmth and the space out yonder,
That heart and mind should be light, what wonder?
GUDMUND.
In the King's high hall I found not the joy
That I knew by my own poor hearth as a boy.
MARGIT. [Without looking at him.]
While I, as at Solhoug each day flits past,
Thank Heaven that here has my lot been cast.
GUDMUND.
'Tis well if for this you can thankful be—
MARGIT. [Vehemently.]
Why not? For am I not honoured and free?
Must not all folk here obey my hest?
Rule I not all things as seemeth me best?
Here I am first, with no second beside me;
And that, as you know, from of old satisfied me.
Did you think you would find me weary and sad?
Nay, my mind is at peace and my heart is glad.
You might, then, have spared your journey here
To Solhoug; 'twill profit you little, I fear.