In the hall there is gladness and revelry; The dancers foot it with jest and glee. The air weighed hot on my brow and breast; For Gudmund, he was not there. [She draws a deep breath. Out here 'tis better: here's quiet and rest. How sweet is the cool night air! [A brooding silence. The horrible thought! Oh, why should it be That wherever I go it follows me? The phial--doth a secret contain; A drop of this in my--enemy's cup, And his life would sicken and wither up; The leech's skill would be tried in vain. [Again a silence. Were I sure that Gudmund--held me dear-- Then little I'd care for-- [GUDMUND enters from the house. (GUDMUND: You, Margit, here? And alone? I have sought you everywhere.) 'Tis cool here. I sickened of heat and glare. See you how yonder the white mists glide Softly over the marshes wide? Here it is neither dark nor light, But midway between them-- [To herself. --as in my breast. [Looking at him. Is't not so--when you wander on such a night You hear, though but half to yourself confessed, A stirring of secret life through the hush, In tree and in leaf, in flower and in rush? [With a sudden change of tone. Can you guess what I wish? (GUDMUND: Well?) That I could be The nixie that haunts yonder upland lea. How cunningly I should weave my spell! Trust me--!

Margit Monologue from The feast at Solhoug

Rehearse Margit's monologue