[_Starts._ Stop! [_Takes the goblet from her._ For meseems it is the same— SIGNË. ’Tis Margit’s beaker. GUDMUND. [_Examining it carefully._] By Heaven, ’tis so! I mind me still of the red wine’s glow As she drank from it on the day we parted To our meeting again in health and glad-hearted. To herself that draught betided woe. No, Signë, ne’er drink wine or mead From that goblet. [_Pours its contents out at the window._ We must away with all speed. [_Tumult and calls without, at the back._ SIGNË. List, Gudmund! Voices and trampling feet! GUDMUND. Knut Gesling’s voice! SIGNË. O save us, Lord! GUDMUND. [_Places himself in front of her._] Nay, nay, fear nothing, Signë sweet— I am here, and my good sword. [MARGIT _comes in in haste from the left._ MARGIT. [_Listening to the noise._] What means this? Is my husband—? GUDMUND AND SIGNË. Margit! MARGIT. [_Catches sight of them._] Gudmund! And Signë! Are you here? SIGNË. [_Going towards her._] Margit—dear sister! MARGIT. [_Appalled, having seen the goblet which GUDMUND still holds in his hand._] The goblet! Who has drunk from it? GUDMUND. [_Confused._] Drunk—? I and Signë—we meant— MARGIT. [_Screams._] O God, have mercy! Help! Help! They will die. GUDMUND. [_Setting down the goblet._] Margit—! SIGNË. What ails you, sister? MARGIT. [_Towards the back._] Help, help! Will no one help? [_A_ HOUSE-CARL _rushes in from the passage-way._ HOUSE-CARL. [_Calls in a terrified voice._] Lady Margit! Your husband—! MARGIT. He—has he, too, drunk—! GUDMUND. [_To himself._] Ah! now I understand— HOUSE-CARL. Knut Gesling has slain him. SIGNË. Slain! GUDMUND.