SCENE—Exterior of Sir Marmaduke's Elizabethan Mansion, mid-day.

                        CHORUS OF VILLAGERS

                         Ring forth, ye bells,
                               With clarion sound—
                         Forget your knells,
                               For joys abound.
                         Forget your notes
                               Of mournful lay,
                         And from your throats
                               Pour joy to-day.

        For to-day young Alexis—young Alexis Pointdextre
              Is betrothed to Aline—to Aline Sangazure,
        And that pride of his sex is—of his sex is to be next her
              At the feast on the green—on the green, oh, be sure!

                         Ring forth, ye bells etc.
                                                  (Exeunt the men
  into house.)

  (Enter Mrs. Partlet with Constance, her daughter)

                             RECITATIVE

  MRS. P.     Constance, my daughter, why this strange depression?
              The village rings with seasonable joy,
              Because the young and amiable Alexis,
              Heir to the great Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre,
              Is plighted to Aline, the only daughter
              Of Annabella, Lady Sangazure.
              You, you alone are sad and out of spirits;
              What is the reason?  Speak, my daughter, speak!

  CON.        Oh, mother, do not ask!  If my complexion
              From red to white should change in quick succession,
              And then from white to red, oh, take no notice!
              If my poor limbs should tremble with emotion,
              Pay no attention, mother—it is nothing!
              If long and deep-drawn sighs I chance to utter,
              Oh, heed them not, their cause must ne'er be known!

  Mrs. Partlet motions to Chorus to leave her with Constance.  Exeunt
  ladies of Chorus.

                          ARIA—CONSTANCE

                    When he is here,
                         I sigh with pleasure—
                    When he is gone,
                         I sigh with grief.
                    My hopeless fear
                         No soul can measure—
                    His love alone
                         Can give my aching heart relief!

                    When he is cold,
                         I weep for sorrow—
                    When he is kind,
                         I weep for joy.
                    My grief untold
                         Knows no to-morrow—
                    My woe can find
                         No hope, no solace, no alloy!

  MRS. P.     Come, tell me all about it!  Do not fear—
              I, too, have loved; but that was long ago!
              Who is the object of your young affections?
  CONST.      Hush, mother!  He is here!  (Looking off)

        Enter Dr. Daly.  He is pensive and does not see them

  MRS. P.     (amazed)         Our reverend vicar!
  CONST.      Oh, pity me, my heart is almost broken!
  MRS. P.     My child, be comforted.  To such an union
              I shall not offer any opposition.
              Take him—he's yours!  May you and he be happy!
  CONST.      But, mother dear, he is not yours to give!
  MRS. P.     That's true, indeed!
  CONST.                       He might object!
  MRS. P.                                        He might.
              But come—take heart—I'll probe him on the subject.
              Be comforted—leave this affair to me.
                                                       (They
  withdraw.)

                        RECITATIVE—DR. DALY

        The air is charged with amatory numbers—
              Soft madrigals, and dreamy lovers' lays.
        Peace, peace, old heart!  Why waken from its slumbers
              The aching memory of the old, old days?

                               BALLAD

        Time was when Love and I were well acquainted.
              Time was when we walked ever hand in hand.
        A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted,
              None better-loved than I in all the land!
        Time was, when maidens of the noblest station,
              Forsaking even military men,
        Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration—
              Ah me, I was a fair young curate then!

        Had I a headache? sighed the maids assembled;
              Had I a cold? welled forth the silent tear;
        Did I look pale? then half a parish trembled;
              And when I coughed all thought the end was near!
        I had no care—no jealous doubts hung o'er me—
              For I was loved beyond all other men.
        Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me—
              Ah me, I was a pale young curate them!

  (At the conclusion of the ballad, Mrs. Partlet comes forward with
  Constance.)

        MRS. P.  Good day, reverend sir.
        DR. D.  Ah, good Mrs. Partlet, I am glad to see you.  And
  your little daughter, Constance!  Why, she is quite a little
  woman, I declare!
        CONST. (aside)  Oh, mother, I cannot speak to him!
        MRS. P.  Yes, reverend sir, she is nearly eighteen, and as
  good a girl as ever stepped.  (Aside to Dr. Daly)  Ah, sir, I'm
  afraid I shall soon lose her!
        DR. D. (aside to Mrs. Partlet)  Dear me, you pain me very
  much.  Is she delicate?
        MRS. P.  Oh no, sir—I don't mean that—but young girls look
  to get married.
        DR. D.  Oh, I take you.  To be sure.  But there's plenty of
  time for that.  Four or five years hence, Mrs. Partlet, four or
  five years hence.  But when the time does come, I shall have much
  pleasure in marrying her myself—
        CONST. (aside)  Oh, mother!
        DR. D.  To some strapping young fellow in her own rank of
  life.
        CONST. (in tears)  He does not love me!
        MRS. P.  I have often wondered, reverend sir (if you'll
  excuse the liberty), that you have never married.
        DR. D. (aside)  Be still, my fluttering heart!
        MRS. P.  A clergyman's wife does so much good in a village.
  besides that, you are not as young as you were, and before very
  long you will want somebody to nurse you, and look after your
  little comforts.
        DR. D.  Mrs. Partlet, there is much truth in what you say.
  I am indeed getting on in years, and a helpmate would cheer my
  declining days.  Time was when it might have been; but I have
  left it too long—I am an old fogy, now, am I not, my dear?  (to
  Constance)—a very old fogy, indeed.  Ha! ha!  No, Mrs. Partlet,
  my mind is quite made up.  I shall live and die a solitary old
  bachelor.
        CONST.  Oh, mother, mother!  (Sobs on Mrs. Partlet's bosom)
        MRS. P.  Come, come, dear one, don't fret.  At a more
  fitting time we will try again—we will try again.
                                          (Exeunt Mrs. Partlet and
  Constance.)

       DR. D.  (looking after them)  Poor little girl!  I'm afraid
  she has something on her mind.  She is rather comely.  Time was
  when this old heart would have throbbed in double-time at the
  sight of such a fairy form!  But tush!  I am puling!  Here comes
  the young Alexis with his proud and happy father.  Let me dry
  this tell-tale tear!

                   Enter Sir Marmaduke and Alexis

                             RECITATIVE

  DR. D.      Sir Marmaduke—my dear young friend, Alexis—
              On this most happy, most auspicious plighting—
              Permit me as a true old friend to tender
              My best, my very best congratulations!
  SIR M.      Sir, you are most obleeging!
  ALEX.                                    Dr. Daly
              My dear old tutor, and my valued pastor,
              I thank you from the bottom of my heart!
                                                        (Spoken
  through music)
  DR. D.      May fortune bless you! may the middle distance
              Of your young life be pleasant as the foreground—
              The joyous foreground! and, when you have reached it,
              May that which now is the far-off horizon
              (But which will then become the middle distance),
              In fruitful promise be exceeded only
              By that which will have opened, in the meantime,
              Into a new and glorious horizon!
  SIR M.      Dear Sir, that is an excellent example
              Of an old school of stately compliment
              To which I have, through life, been much addicted.
              Will you obleege me with a copy of it,
              In clerkly manuscript, that I myself
              May use it on appropriate occasions?
  DR. D.      Sir, you shall have a fairly-written copy
              Ere Sol has sunk into his western slumbers!
                                                               (Exit
  Dr. Daly)

        SIR M.  (to Alexis, who is in a reverie)  Come, come, my
  son—your fiancee will be here in five minutes.  Rouse yourself
  to receive her.
        ALEXIS  Oh rapture!
        SIR M.  Yes, you are a fortunate young fellow, and I will
  not disguise from you that this union with the House of Sangazure
  realizes my fondest wishes.  Aline is rich, and she comes of a
  sufficiently old family, for she is the seven thousand and
  thirty-seventh in direct descent from Helen of Troy.  True, there
  was a blot on the escutcheon of that lady—that affair with
  Paris—but where is the family, other than my own, in which there
  is no flaw?  You are a lucky fellow, sir—a very lucky fellow!
        ALEXIS  Father, I am welling over with limpid joy!  No
  sicklying taint of sorrow overlies the lucid lake of liquid love,
  upon which, hand in hand, Aline and I are to float into eternity!
        SIR M.  Alexis, I desire that of your love for this young
  lady you do not speak so openly.  You are always singing ballads
  in praise of her beauty, and you expect the very menials who wait
  behind your chair to chorus your ecstasies.  It is not delicate.
        ALEXIS  Father, a man who loves as I love—
        SIR M.  Pooh pooh, sir! fifty years ago I madly loved your
  future mother-in-law, the Lady Sangazure, and I have reason to
  believe that she returned my love.  But were we guilty of the
  indelicacy of publicly rushing into each other's arms,
  exclaiming—

              "Oh, my adored one!" "Beloved boy!"
              "Ecstatic rapture!" "Unmingled joy!"

  which seems to be the modern fashion of love-making?  No! it was
  "Madam, I trust you are in the enjoyment of good health"—"Sir,
  you are vastly polite, I protest I am mighty well"—and so forth.
  Much more delicate—much more respectful.  But see—Aline
  approaches—let us retire, that she may compose herself for the
  interesting ceremony in which she is to play so important a part.
                                            (Exeunt Sir Marmaduke and
  Alexis.)

       (Enter Aline on terrace, preceded by Chorus of Girls.)

                          CHORUS OF GIRLS

                         With heart and with voice
                               Let us welcome this mating:
                         To the youth of her choice,
                               With a heart palpitating,
                                     Comes the lovely Aline!

                         May their love never cloy!
                               May their bliss me unbounded!
                         With a halo of joy
                               May their lives be surrounded!
                                     Heaven bless our Aline!

                         RECITATIVE—ALINE.

        My kindly friends, I thank you for this greeting
        And as you wish me every earthly joy,
        I trust your wishes may have quick fulfillment!

                            ARIA—ALINE.

                         Oh, happy young heart!
                               Comes thy young lord a-wooing
                         With joy in his eyes,
                               And pride in his breast—
                         Make much of thy prize,
                               For he is the best
                         That ever came a-suing.
                               Yet—yet we must part,
                                                 Young heart!
                               Yet—yet we must part!

                         Oh, merry young heart,
                               Bright are the days of thy wooing!
                         But happier far
                               The days untried—
                         No sorrow can mar,
                               When love has tied
                         The knot there's no undoing.
                               Then, never to part,
                                                 Young heart!
                               Then, never to part!

                        Enter Lady Sangazure

                        RECITATIVE—LADY S.

              My child, I join in these congratulations:
              Heed not the tear that dims this aged eye!
              Old memories crowd upon me.  Though I sorrow,
              'Tis for myself, Aline, and not for thee!

              Enter Alexis, preceded by Chorus of Men

                      CHORUS OF MEN AND WOMEN

                    With heart and with voice
                         Let us welcome this mating;
                    To the maid of his choice,
                         With a heart palpitating,
                               Comes Alexis, the brave!.

  (Sir Marmaduke enters.  Lady Sangazure and he exhibit signs of
  strong
  emotion at the sight of each other which they endeavor to
  repress.  Alexis and Aline rush into each other's arms.)

                             RECITATIVE

  ALEXIS      Oh, my adored one!

  ALINE                  Beloved boy!

  ALEXIS      Ecstatic rapture!

  ALINE                  Unmingled joy!
                                                             (They
  retire up.)

               DUET—SIR MARMADUKE and LADY SANGAZURE

  SIR M.  (with stately courtesy)
              Welcome joy, adieu to sadness!
                    As Aurora gilds the day,
              So those eyes, twin orbs of gladness,
                    Chase the clouds of care away.
              Irresistible incentive
                    Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
              I'm your service most attentive—
                    Most attentive to command!

  (Aside with frantic vehemence)
              Wild with adoration!
              Mad with fascination!
              To indulge my lamentation
                    No occasion do I miss!
              Goaded to distraction
              By maddening inaction,
              I find some satisfaction
                    In apostophe like this:
                    "Sangazure immortal,
                         "Sangazure divine,
                    "Welcome to my portal,
                         "Angel, oh be mine!"

  (Aloud with much ceremony)
              Irresistible incentive
                    Bids me humbly kiss your hand;
              I'm your servant most attentive—
                    Most attentive to command!

  LADY S.     Sir, I thank you most politely
                    For your grateful courtesee;
              Compliment more true and knightly
                    Never yet was paid to me!
              Chivalry is an ingredient
                    Sadly lacking in our land—
              Sir, I am your most obedient,
                    Most obedient to command!

  (Aside and with great vehemence)
              Wild with adoration!
              Mad with fascination!
              To indulge my lamentation
                    No occasion do I miss!
              Goaded to distraction
              By maddening inaction,
              I find some satisfaction
                    In apostophe like this:
                    "Marmaduke immortal,
                         "Marmaduke divine,
                    "Take me to thy portal,
                         "Loved one, oh be mine!"

  (Aloud with much ceremony)
              Chivalry is an ingredient
                    Sadly lacking in our land;
              Sir, I am your most obedient,
                    Most obedient to command!

   (During this the Notary has entered, with marriage contract.)

                         RECITATIVE—NOTARY

        All is prepared for sealing and for signing,
              The contract has been drafted as agreed;
        Approach the table, oh, ye lovers pining,
              With hand and seal come execute the deed!

  (Alexis and Aline advance and sign, Alexis supported by Sir
  Marmaduke,
  Aline by her Mother.)

                               CHORUS

              See they sign, without a quiver, it—
                    Then to seal proceed.
              They deliver it—they deliver it
                    As their Act and Deed!
  ALEX.                  I deliver it—I deliver it
                               As my Act and Deed!.
  ALINE.                 I deliver it—I deliver it.
                               As my Act and Deed!

  CHO.        With heart and with voice
                    Let us welcome this mating;
              Leave them here to rejoice,
                    With true love palpitating,
                         Alexis the brave,
                         And the lovely Aline!
                                            (Exeunt all but Alexis
  and Aline.)

        ALEXIS  At last we are alone!  My darling, you are now
  irrevocably betrothed to me.  Are you not very, very happy?
        ALINE  Oh, Alexis, can you doubt it?  Do I not love you
  beyond all on earth, and am I not beloved in return?  Is not true
  love, faithfully given and faithfully returned, the source of
  every earthly joy?
        ALEXIS  Of that there can be no doubt.  Oh, that the world
  could be persuaded of the truth of that maxim!  Oh, that the
  world would break down the artificial barriers of rank, wealth,
  education, age, beauty, habits, taste, and temper, and recognize
  the glorious principle, that in marriage alone is to be found the
  panacea for every ill!
        ALINE  Continue to preach that sweet doctrine, and you will
  succeed, oh, evangel of true happiness!
        ALEXIS  I hope so, but as yet the cause progresses but
  slowly.  Still I have made some converts to the principle, that
  men and women should be coupled in matrimony without distinction
  of rank.  I have lectured on the subject at Mechanics'
  Institutes, and the mechanics were unanimous in favour of my
  views.  I have preached in workhouses, beershops, and Lunatic
  Asylums, and I have been received with enthusiasm.  I have
  addressed navvies on the advantages that would accrue to them if
  they married wealthy ladies of rank, and not a navvy dissented!
        ALINE  Noble fellows!  And yet there are those who hold that
  the uneducated classes are not open to argument!  And what do the
  countesses say?
        ALEXIS  Why, at present, it can't be denied, the aristocracy
  hold aloof.
        ALINE  Ah, the working man is the true Intelligence after
  all!
        ALEXIS  He is a noble creature when he is quite sober.  Yes,
  Aline, true happiness comes of true love, and true love should be
  independent of external influences.  It should live upon itself
  and by itself—in itself love should live for love alone!

                           BALLAD—ALEXIS

              Love feeds on many kinds of food, I know,
                    Some love for rank, some for duty:
              Some give their hearts away for empty show,
                    And others for youth and beauty.
              To love for money all the world is prone:
                    Some love themselves, and live all lonely:
              Give me the love that loves for love alone—
                    I love that love—I love it only!

              What man for any other joy can thirst,
                    Whose loving wife adores him duly?
              Want, misery, and care may do their worst,
                    If loving woman loves you truly.
              A lover's thoughts are ever with his own—
                    None truly loved is ever lonely:
              Give me the love that loves for love alone—
                    I love that love—I love it only!

        ALINE  Oh, Alexis, those are noble principles!
        ALEXIS  Yes, Aline, and I am going to take a desperate step
  in support of them.  Have you ever heard of the firm of J. W.
  Wells & Co., the old-established Family Sorcerers in St. Mary
  Axe?
        ALINE  I have seen their advertisement.
        ALEXIS  They have invented a philtre, which, if report may
  be believed, is simply infallible.  I intend to distribute it
  through the village, and within half an hour of my doing so there
  will not be an adult in the place who will not have learnt the
  secret of pure and lasting happiness.  What do you say to that?
        ALINE  Well, dear, of course a filter is a very useful thing
  in a house; but still I don't quite see that it is the sort of
  thing that places its possessor on the very pinnacle of earthly
  joy.
        ALEXIS  Aline, you misunderstand me.  I didn't say a
  filter—I said a philtre.
        ALINE (alarmed)  You don't mean a love-potion?
        ALEXIS  On the contrary—I do mean a love potion.
        ALINE  Oh, Alexis!  I don't think it would be right.  I
  don't indeed.  And then—a real magician!  Oh, it would be
  downright wicked.
        ALEXIS  Aline, is it, or is it not, a laudable object to
  steep the whole village up to its lips in love, and to couple
  them in matrimony without distinction of age, rank, or fortune?
        ALINE  Unquestionably, but—
        ALEXIS  Then unpleasant as it must be to have recourse to
  supernatural aid, I must nevertheless pocket my aversion, in
  deference to the great and good end I have in view.  (Calling)
  Hercules.

                      (Enter a Page from tent)

        PAGE  Yes, sir.
        ALEXIS  Is Mr. Wells there?
        PAGE  He's in the tent, sir—refreshing.
        ALEXIS  Ask him to be so good as to step this way.
        PAGE  Yes, sir.
  (Exit Page)
        ALINE  Oh, but, Alexis!  A real Sorcerer!  Oh, I shall be
  frightened to death!
        ALEXIS  I trust my Aline will not yield to fear while the
  strong right arm of her Alexis is here to protect her.
        ALINE  It's nonsense, dear, to talk of your protecting me
  with your strong right arm, in face of the fact that this Family
  Sorcerer could change me into a guinea-pig before you could turn
  round.
        ALEXIS  He could change you into a guinea-pig, no doubt, but
  it is most unlikely that he would take such a liberty.  It's a
  most respectable firm, and I am sure he would never be guilty of
  so untradesmanlike an act.

                    (Enter Mr. Wells from tent)

        WELLS  Good day, sir.  (Aline much terrified.)
        ALEXIS  Good day—I believe you are a Sorcerer.
        WELLS  Yes, sir, we practice Necromancy in all its branches.
  We've a choice assortment of wishing-caps, divining-rods,
  amulets, charms, and counter-charms.  We can cast you a nativity
  at a low figure, and we have a horoscope at three-and-six that we
  can guarantee.  Our Abudah chests, each containing a patent Hag
  who comes out and prophesies disasters, with spring complete, are
  strongly recommended.  Our Aladdin lamps are very chaste, and our
  Prophetic Tablets, foretelling everything—from a change of
  Ministry down to a rise in Unified—are much enquired for.  Our
  penny Curse—one of the cheapest things in the trade—is
  considered infallible.  We have some very superior Blessings,
  too, but they're very little asked for.  We've only sold one
  since Christmas—to a gentleman who bought it to send to his
  mother-in-law—but it turned out that he was afflicted in the
  head, and it's been returned on our hands.  But our sale of penny
  Curses, especially on Saturday nights, is tremendous.  We can't
  turn 'em out fast enough.

                          SONG—MR. WELLS

              Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells,
              I'm a dealer in magic and spells,
                    In blessings and curses
                    And ever-filled purses,
              In prophecies, witches, and knells.
              If you want a proud foe to "make tracks"—
              If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax—
                    You've but to look in
                    On the resident Djinn,
              Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

              We've a first-class assortment of magic;
                    And for raising a posthumous shade
              With effects that are comic or tragic,
                    There's no cheaper house in the trade.
              Love-philtre—we've quantities of it;
                    And for knowledge if any one burns,
              We keep an extremely small prophet, a prophet
                    Who brings us unbounded returns:

                    For he can prophesy
                    With a wink of his eye,
                    Peep with security
                    Into futurity,
                    Sum up your history,
                    Clear up a mystery,
                    Humour proclivity
                    For a nativity—for a nativity;
                    With mirrors so magical,
                    Tetrapods tragical,
                    Bogies spectacular,
                    Answers oracular,
                    Facts astronomical,
                    Solemn or comical,
                    And, if you want it, he
                    Makes a reduction on taking a quantity!
                               Oh!

                    If any one anything lacks,
                    He'll find it all ready in stacks,
                         If he'll only look in
                         On the resident Djinn,
                    Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

                    He can raise you hosts
                                           Of ghosts,
                    And that without reflectors;
                         And creepy things
                                           With wings,
                    And gaunt and grisly spectres.
                    He can fill you crowds
                                           Of shrouds,
                    And horrify you vastly;
                         He can rack your brains
                                           With chains,
                    And gibberings grim and ghastly.

                         And then, if you plan it, he
                         Changes organity,
                         With an urbanity,
                         Full of Satanity,
                         Vexes humanity
                         With an inanity
                         Fatal to vanity—
                    Driving your foes to the verge of insanity!

                         Barring tautology,
                         In demonology,
                         'Lectro-biology,
                         Mystic nosology,
                         Spirit philology,
                         High-class astrology,
                         Such is his knowledge, he
                    Isn't the man to require an apology!

                                           Oh!
              My name is John Wellington Wells,
              I'm a dealer in magic and spells,
                    In blessings and curses
                    And ever-filled purses,
              In prophecies, witches, and knells.

              If any one anything lacks,
              He'll find it all ready in stacks,
                    If he'll only look in
                    On the resident Djinn,
              Number seventy, Simmery Axe!

        ALEXIS  I have sent for you to consult you on a very
  important matter.  I believe you advertise a Patent Oxy-Hydrogen
  Love-at-first-sight Philtre?
        WELLS  Sir, it is our leading article.  (Producing a phial.)
        ALEXIS  Now I want to know if you can confidently guarantee
  it as possessing all the qualities you claim for it in your
  advertisement?
        WELLS  Sir, we are not in the habit of puffing our goods.
  Ours is an old-established house with a large family connection,
  and every assurance held out in the advertisement is fully
  realized.  (Hurt)
        ALINE  (aside)  Oh, Alexis, don't offend him!  He'll change
  us into something dreadful—I know he will!
        ALEXIS  I am anxious from purely philanthropical motives to
  distribute this philtre, secretly, among the inhabitants of this
  village.  I shall of course require a quantity.  How do you sell
  it?
        WELLS  In buying a quantity, sir, we should strongly advise
  your taking it in the wood, and drawing it off as you happen to
  want it.  We have it in four-and-a-half and nine gallon
  casks—also in pipes and hogsheads for laying down, and we deduct
  10 per cent from prompt cash.
        ALEXIS  I should mention that I am a Member of the Army and

  Navy Stores.
        WELLS  In that case we deduct 25 percent.
        ALEXIS  Aline, the villagers will assemble to carouse in a
  few minutes.  Go and fetch the tea-pot.
        ALINE  But, Alexis—
        ALEXIS  My dear, you must obey me, if you please.  Go and
  fetch the teapot.
        ALINE  (going)  I'm sure Dr. Daly would disapprove of it!

  (Exit Aline.)
        ALEXIS  And how soon does it take effect?
        WELLS  In twelve hours.  Whoever drinks of it loses
  consciousness for that period, and on waking falls in love, as a
  matter of course, with the first lady he meets who has also
  tasted it, and his affection is at once returned.  One trial will
  prove the fact.
                   Enter Aline with large tea-pot

        ALEXIS  Good: then, Mr. Wells, I shall feel obliged if you
  will at once pour as much philtre into this teapot as will
  suffice to affect the whole village.
        ALINE  But bless me, Alexis, many of the villages are
  married people!
        WELLS  Madam, this philtre is compounded on the strictest
  principles.  On married people it has no effect whatever.  But
  are you quite sure that you have nerve enough to carry you
  through the fearful ordeal?
        ALEXIS  In the good cause I fear nothing.
        WELLS  Very good, then, we will proceed at once to the
  Incantation.
                       The stage grows dark.

                            INCANTATION

  WELLS.            Sprites of earth and air—
                         Fiends of flame and fire—
                               Demon souls,
                               Come here in shoals,
                    This dreaded deed inspire!
                         Appear, appear, appear.

  MALE VOICES.           Good master, we are here!

  WELLS.            Noisome hags of night—
                         Imps of deadly shade—
                               Pallid ghosts,
                               Arise in hosts,
                    And lend me all your aid.
                         Appear, appear, appear!

  FEMALE VOICES.         Good master, we are here!

  ALEXIS. (aside)        Hark, they assemble,
                               These fiends of the night!
  ALINE.  (aside)        Oh Alexis, I tremble,
                               Seek safety in flight!
                            ARIA - ALINE

                    Let us fly to a far-off land,
                         Where peace and plenty dwell—
                    Where the sigh of the silver strand
                         Is echoed in every shell
                    To the joy that land will give,
                         On the wings of Love we'll fly;
                    In innocence, there to live—
                         In innocence there to die!

                         CHORUS OF SPIRITS.

                         Too late—too late
                               It may not be!
                         That happy fate
                               Is not for (me/thee)!

                     ALEXIS, ALINE, and MR. W.

                         Too late—too late,
                               That may not be!
                         That happy fate,
                               Is not for thee!

                                    MR. WELLS

              Now shrivelled hags, with poison bags,
                    Discharge your loathsome loads!
              Spit flame and fire, unholy choir!
                    Belch forth your venom, toads!
              Ye demons fell, with yelp and yell,
                    Shed curses far afield—
              Ye fiends of night, your filthy blight
                    In noisome plenty yield!

  WELLS  (pouring phial into tea-pot—flash)
                               Number One!
  CHORUS                             It is done!
  WELLS  (same business)       Number Two! (flash)
  CHORUS                             One too few!
  WELLS                        Number Three! (flash)
  CHORUS                             Set us free!
                               Set us free-our work is done
                                     Ha! ha! ha!
                               Set us free—our course is run!
                                     Ha! ha! ha!

                      ALINE AND ALEXIS (aside)

                    Let us fly to a far-off land,
                         Where peace and plenty dwell—
                    Where the sigh of the silver strand
                         Is echoed in every shell.
                         CHORUS OF FIENDS.

                    Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!

  (Stage grows light.  Mr. Wells beckons villagers.  Enter villagers
  and all the dramatis personae, dancing joyously.  Mrs. Partlet and
  Mr. Wells then distribute tea-cups.)

                              CHORUS.

                    Now to the banquet we press;
                         Now for the eggs, the ham;
                    Now for the mustard and cress,
                         Now for the strawberry jam!

                    Now for the tea of our host,
                         Now for the rollicking bun,
                    Now for the muffin and toast,
                         Now for the gay Sally Lunn!

  WOMEN.      The eggs and the ham, and the strawberry jam!

  MEN.        The rollicking bun, and the gay Sally Lunn!
                    The rollicking, rollicking bun!

                     RECITATIVE—SIR MARMADUKE

              Be happy all—the feast is spread before ye;
                    Fear nothing, but enjoy yourselves, I pray!
              Eat, aye, and drink—be merry, I implore ye,
                    For once let thoughtless Folly rule the day.

                          TEA-CUP BRINDISI

                    Eat, drink, and be gay,
                         Banish all worry and sorrow,
                    Laugh gaily to-day,
                         Weep, if you're sorry, to-morrow!
                    Come, pass the cup around—
                         I will go bail for the liquor;
                    It's strong, I'll be bound,
                         For it was brewed by the vicar!

                              CHORUS.

                         None so knowing as he
                         At brewing a jorum of tea,
                               Ha! ha!
                         A pretty stiff jorum of tea.

              TRIO—WELLS, ALINE, and ALEXIS. (aside)

                         See—see—they drink—
                               All thoughts unheeding,
                         The tea-cups clink,
                               They are exceeding!
                         Their hearts will melt
                               In half-an-hour—
                         Then will be felt
                               The potions power!

  (During this verse Constance has brought a small tea-pot, kettle,
  caddy, and cosy to Dr. Daly.  He makes tea scientifically.)

          BRINDISI, 2nd Verse—DR. DALY (with the tea-pot)

                    Pain, trouble, and care,
                         Misery, heart-ache, and worry,
                    Quick, out of your lair!
                         Get you gone in a hurry!
                    Toil, sorrow, and plot,
                         Fly away quicker and quicker—
                    Three spoons in the pot—
                         That is the brew of your vicar!

                                     CHORUS

                    None so cunning as he
                    At brewing a jorum of tea,
                         Ha! ha!
                    A pretty stiff jorum of tea!

                 ENSEMBLE—ALEXIS and ALINE (aside)

              Oh love, true love—unworldly, abiding!
                    Source of all pleasure—true fountain of joy,—
              Oh love, true love—divinely confiding,
                    Exquisite treasure that knows no alloy,—
              Oh love, true love, rich harvest of gladness,
                    Peace-bearing tillage—great garner of bliss,—
              Oh love, true love, look down on our sadness —
                    Dwell in this village—oh, hear us in this!

  (It becomes evident by the strange conduct of the characters that
  the charm is working.  All rub their eyes, and stagger about the
  stage as if under the influence of a narcotic.)

        TUTTI (aside)                   ALEXIS, MR. WELLS and ALINE

  Oh, marvellous illusion!           A marvellous illusion!
        Oh, terrible surprise!             A terrible surprise
  What is this strange confusion     Excites a strange confusion
        That veils my aching eyes?         Within their aching eyes—
  I must regain my senses,           They must regain their senses,
        Restoring Reason's law,            Restoring Reason's law,
  Or fearful inferences              Or fearful inferences
        Society will draw!                       Society will draw!

  (Those who have partaken of the philtre struggle in vain against
  its effects, and, at the end of the chorus, fall insensible on
  the stage.)

                            END OF ACT I