Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/325



[Setting down the goblet.] Margit—!

What ails you, sister?

[Towards the back.] Help, help! Will no one help?

[Calls in a terrified voice.] Lady Margit! Your husband—!

He—has he, too, drunk—!

[To himself.] Ah! now I understand—

Knut Gesling has slain him.

Slain!

[Drawing his sword.] Not yet, I hope. [Whispers to ] Fear not. No one has drunk from your goblet.