Enough, enough. Your bitterness You presently shall rue. Had I known you outlawed, shelterless, Hunted the country through-- Trust me, the day that brought you here Would have seemed the fairest of many a year; And a feast I had counted it indeed When you turned to Solhoug for refuge in need. (GUDMUND: What say you--? How shall I read your mind?) (Holding out her hand to him.) Read this: that at Solhoug dwell kinsfolk kind. (GUDMUND: But you said of late--?) To that pay no heed, Or hear me, and understand indeed. For me is life but a long, black night, Nor sun, nor star for me shines bright. I have sold my youth and my liberty, And none from my bargain can set me free. My heart's content I have bartered for gold, With gilded chains I have fettered myself; Trust me, it is but comfort cold To the sorrowful soul, the pride of pelf. How blithe was my childhood--how free from care! Our house was lowly and scant our store; But treasures of hope in my breast I bore.

Margit Monologue from The feast at Solhoug

Rehearse Margit's monologue