[To herself.] Oh, to have to live with him!
[Is in the act of leaving the room.
BENGT.
Margit, come here! Fill my cup again. [She approaches; he tries to draw her down on his knee.] Ha, ha, ha! You are right fair, Margit! I love thee well!
MARGIT.
[Freeing herself.] Let me go!
[Crosses, with the goblet in her hand, to the left.
BENGT.
You are not in the humour to-night. Ha, ha, ha! That means no great matter, I know.