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.

GUDMUND.

What, mean you, Dame Margit?

MARGIT. [Rising.]

I understand all--
I know why you come to my lonely hall.

GUDMUND.

And you welcome me not, though you know why I came?
[Bowing and about to go.

God's peace and farewell, then, my noble dame!

MARGIT.

To have stayed in the royal hall, indeed,
Sir Knight, had better become your fame.

GUDMUND. [Stops.]

In the royal hall? Do you scoff at my need?

MARGIT.

Your need? You are ill to content, my friend;
Where, I would know, do you think to end?
You can dress you in velvet and cramoisie,
You stand by the throne, and have lands in fee--

GUDMUND.

Do you deem, then, that fortune is kind to me?
You said but now that full well you knew
What brought me to Solhoug--

MARGIT.

I told you true!

GUDMUND.

Then you know what of late has befallen me;--
You have heard the tale of my outlawry?

MARGIT. [Terror-struck.]

An outlaw! You, Gudmund!

GUDMUND.

I am indeed.
But I swear, by the Holy Christ I swear,
Had I known the thoughts of your heart, I ne'er
Had bent me to Solhoug in my need.
I thought that you still were gentle-hearted,
As you ever were wont to be ere we parted:
But I truckle not to you; the wood is wide,
My hand and my bow shall fend for me there;
I will drink of the mountain brook, and hide
My head in the beast's lair.

[On the point of going.

MARGIT. [Holding him back.]

Outlawed! Nay, stay! I swear to you
That naught of your outlawry I knew.

GUDMUND.

It is as I tell you. My life's at stake;
And to live are all men fain.
Three nights like a dog 'neath the sky I've lain,
My couch on the hillside forced to make,
With for pillow the boulder grey.
Though too proud to knock at the door of the stranger,
And pray him for aid in the hour of danger,
Yet strong was my hope as I held on my way:
I thought: When to Solhoug you come at last
Then all your pains will be done and