GUDMUND.
Jeg? Intet. Å, lad mig samle
mine tanker; jeg er så frejdig og fro
fordi jeg, som fordum, er hos eder to.
Men, sig mig, – Signe –?
GUDMUND.
I? Nay, I meant naught. My brain
Is wildered; but ah, I am blithe and fain
To be, as of old, with you sisters twain.
But tell me,--Signe--?
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