Balthilda.
Ah, it hath done us no hurt, Sire.... It was for a feast.
Teja.
In truth? Ye believed we should celebrate a feast to-day?
Balthilda.
Well ... is it then not a feast, Sire?
Teja.
(Is silent and bites his nether lip, examining her furtively.) Wilt thou not be seated, Balthilda?... I should not yet let thee go home! That too would be a reproach, would it not?
(Balthilda is silent and looks down.)
Teja.