SEVERAL OF THE GUESTS. Thanks, thanks, Gudmund Alfson! [_They close around him, some sitting, others standing._ MARGIT _leans against a tree in front on the right._ SIGNË _stands on the left, near the house._ GUDMUND. [_Sings._] I rode into the wildwood, I sailed across the sea, But ’twas at home I wooed and won A maiden fair and free. It was the Queen of Elfland, She waxed full wroth and grim: Never, she swore, shall that maiden fair Ride to the church with him. Hear me, thou Queen of Elfland. Vain, vain are threat and spell; For naught can sunder two true hearts That love each other well! AN OLD MAN. That is a right fair song. See how the young swains cast their glances thitherward! [_Pointing towards the_ GIRLS.] Aye, aye, doubtless each has his own. BENGT. [_Making eyes at_ MARGIT.] Yes, I have mine, that is sure enough. Ha, ha, ha! MARGIT. [_To herself, quivering._] To have to suffer all this shame and scorn! No, no; now to essay the last remedy! BENGT. What ails you? Meseems you look so pale. MARGIT. ’Twill soon pass over. [_Turns to the_ GUESTS.] Did I say e’en now that I had forgotten all my tales? I bethink me now that I remember one. BENGT. Good, good, my wife! Come, let us hear it. YOUNG GIRLS. [_Urgently._] Yes, tell it us, tell it us, Dame Margit! MARGIT. I almost fear that ’twill little please you; but that must be as it may. GUDMUND. [_To himself._] Saints in heaven, surely she would not—! MARGIT.