[Softly, as she fills the goblet.] Oh, that this might be the
last beaker I should fill for you.
[She leaves the goblet on the table and is making her way
out to the left.
BENGT.
Hark to me, Margit. For one thing you may thank Heaven, and that is, that I made you my wife before Gudmund Alfson came back.
MARGIT.
Why so?
BENGT.
Why, say you? Am not I ten times the richer man? And certain I am that he would have sought you for his wife, had you not been the mistress of Solhoug.
MARGIT.
[Drawing nearer and glancing at the goblet.] Say you so?