MARGIT. [Not looking at him.]
I thought you came at my woe to jeer.
GUDMUND.
Margit, how could you think—?
MARGIT.
Nay, nay,
There was reason enough for such a fear.
But thanks be to Heaven that fear is gone;
And now no longer I stand alone;
My spirit now is as light and free
As a child's at play 'neath the greenwood tree.
[With a sudden start of fear.
Ah, where are my wits fled! How could I forget—?
Ye saints, I need sorely your succor yet!
An outlaw, you said—?
GUDMUND. [Smiling.]
Nay, now I'm at home;
Hither the King's men scarce dare come.