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Scene I. — A Village at the foot of the Snaeherg. — An inn stands B. in front, luith tables and seats R. and l. — Open view along a fjord at hack, the snow-capped mountains rising steeply to the left, — The road, represented hy the stage, hends and crosses an arching bridge at bach L. over a torrent, appear- ing to ascend the mountain. The annual autumn fair is just concluding, and people from far and near are laying in their winter stocks of goods, provisions, animals, etc. — Great crowd in constant motion. CHORUS OF PEASANTS. Now hasten, neighbours, if you mean to buy;. The fair is over, closing time is nigh. The prices are the lowest offered yet; No other opportunity you'll get. \st Feasant, My three-score sheep are not yet sold. Who buys sheep ? 2nd Feasant. IVe sturdy goats both young and old. Really cheap. Zrd Feasant. Fve cheeses of the choicest brands. 4:th Feasant. Kerens hay from finest pasture lands. Others. The things are almost given away ; Take them, pray. All. Was ever seen so spiritless a fair ? The people only walk about and stare. Such niggard folk are really a disgrace. There surely must be money in the place. [A troop of Laplanders, laden ivlth heavy pucks of skins, horns, and other iuares„ adcanccs. i Laplanders. Fishermen. Girls. All. Mar git. The sun sinketli low, And home we must go To the land of long night with its deserts of snow. Its mountains are bare. But freedom is there, What country to Lapland can ever compare ? We're scantily paid For the long journey made. In furs or in ivory no one will trade. \_A group of fishermen-, tvith nets and fish, passes. When Vikings roved the main They netted gold at pleasure, But we^re content to gain The herring's silver treasure. Oho ! Oho ! D'ye call this a fair? Here's no one to buy, and here's sellers to spare. [A number of girls, goat-herds, pass, some leading goats, others hearing rolls of linen, etc. Skip along, my goats, with me, Home in freedom hie you. People here are poor, you see. Can't afford to buy you. In good hands you still shall be, Let that satisfy you. Was ever seen so spiritless a fair ? etc, \^As the chorus ends there is a tumult at the hade and shouts of "A h )rse thief ! To the river with him ! '' A ragged gipsy is dragged across the stage and off l. hy an angry moh of peasants. Most of the crowd follows, a few only remain, talk- ing, gathering together their wares, taking down hooths, etc. Halvor, in his shirt sleeves, stands at doorway of the inn, looking on ; Margit with him. O Halvor, look at the people ill-using that poor gipsy ! Salvor. Ay, that's the way a fair usually ends nowadays. He's been stealing a horse. We used to be honest people, but nothing's like it used to be. Honesty isn't, fairs isn't [Frederick, who has entered at hack, seats himself at a table and lays his sword on it ivith a clash, startling Halvor. Frederick. And landlords isn't ! Halvor (terrified). lor' ! there's somebody knows me ! Wh what can I do for your lordship ? Frederick. Let mo see whether your wine has suffered the general deterioration. Halvor. Certainly, your honour. Margit, do your duty, woman. [Rustles Margit of. Frederick'. The fair certainly does seem rather dull. Halvor. Dull ! I believe you ! Here's the last market report [taking paper off table and reading). "Cattle, quiet. Coffee, weak. Spirits, low. Meat, rather high. Pigs have a backward tendency. No demand for soap. Linen, unchanged since last fair.'' Frederick. Dear me, that was a whole year ago, wasn't it ? But tell me, can you take a part}- of travellers in ? Halvor. Why certainly, general, it's my duty as a landlord to take in everybody. Frederick (taking wine from Marqit, who re-enters r.). And I'm sure you try to do your duty. Well, we are passing through here on our way to Christiania, and would like to stop and see the festivities after the fair. I believe the ladies have some special interest in this village, Halvor. May I inquire what ladies ? Frederick. The Baroness Nymark and her daughter. Halvor (alarmed). The Baroness Nymark ! No, no. Fve no room fit for such grand folks. They had better not stop^ There's nothing worth seeing. They had much better not stop, indeed. Frederick. We must rest the horses. But don't alarm yourself, we shall coniinne our joarney in the evening. Here- they are. Enter Baroness Nymark, leaning on the arm of Minna, and followed Inj two footmen hearing cloaks and furs. TRIO. Minna. Come on, mamma, with eagerness I'm dying. Baroness. Pray, Minna, not so fast, these hills are trying. Minna. The village festival I long to view. Baroness. My child, it is no proper place for you. Minna. Oh, come along, It can't be wrong To watch the simple peasant throng. These artless folk Delight evoke In one who chafes at fashion's yoke. Baroness. Don't stay too long, I'm far from strong. And cannot bear the vulgar throng. These rustic folk But scorn evoke, Their noisy shouts I find no joke. " Fredericlc. Baroness. Minna, Baroness. Minna. Fredericlc. Pray take my arin, There is no "harm, A village fair is full of charm. Dear Baroness, With cheerfulness I'll guide your daughter through the press. I thank you, sir, She shall not stir Unless I can look after her. Then here we^ll stay And watch the play, The dance begins at fall of day. Don^t stay too long, etc. Oh, come along, etc. "With dance and song, Will come ere long The simple, merrymaking throng. These artless folk Delight evoke In those who love not fashion^s yoke. TMinna. Do allow me to enjoy myself for once, mamma. I love to see a rustic merrymaking, and I cannot miss this opportunity of visiting the place where I passed my infancy. Baroness, Shall I never eradicate your vulgar tastes^ Minna ? You have no dignity or sense of your position. Where is your blood ? One would think you were a peasant girl yourself. Minna [looking at Feederick) . I wish I were. Frederick. Don^t disparage the peasantry, Baroness. I have risen from the ranks — their ranks — myself, as you know, and I still feel one of them, though, thanks to the late Baron, I have been made an officer and a gentleman. Minna. Papa could do no less ; did you not save his life in battle ? Baroness. To be sure. You shed your blood for him. Frederick. My life was at my general's service [to Minna, tenderly), as it is now at his daughter's. Baroness {uneasily observing them). Where is Oscar? Why is he not at your side, Minna ? If I didn't know he was so devoted to you Minna. You would think he didn't care a straw for me. He is certainly a cool lover to desert us like this, directly after joining our excursion too. Frederick. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Baroness. You are quite right, Lieutenant. Minna dotes on him, don't you, dear ? Minna [coldly). Oh, yes ! Baroness. Sucli a true gentleman — so fall of blood; you see it in his every feature. {Turning, sees Ha.lvoe, who nervously hacks and clutches at Margit^s apron for support.) Why, surely I know this face ? You are the person who brought back my child when her nurse died, are you not ? Salvor {frightened). Ye — yes, my lady. Baroness. Some relation of hers, if I remember aright — not her husband ? Halvor. N — no, my lady. Margit. Her brother, your ladyship. Baroness {inspecting her with eyeglass). Ah, you are his wife, I suppose. (Maegit curtsies.) I never realised before that the lower classes had relations. Frederick {gravely). I assure you it is so. Baroness. One thinks of them always as a common herd, with no blood. Minna. 0, how can you say so, mamma ! I'm sure my old nurse was a real mother to me. I have never forgotten the dear old cradle-song with which she used to sing me to sleep. NOEWEGIAN CRADLE-SONG. Slumber, my child, while the summer day waneth. Lulled by the music of mountain and vale. Dreamy content on the face of earth reigneth, Surely no trouble such peace can assail. Life has its summer of joys to enthral. The love of a mother is sweeter than all. Slumber, my child, though the tempest rage madly. Slumber in peace through the dark winter night. Rests on thy cradle thy mother's eye gladly ; While she is near thee all terrors take flight. Life has its winter of griefs to appal ; The love of a mother consoles us for all. Minna {to Halvor). Has nothing ever been heard of my nurse's husband, Andreas Brand ? Halvor {again terrified). Margit, do your duty, woman ! [Retreats hastily up stage. Margit. No, young lady ; it is supposed he died in the wars, sixteen years ago. Minna. And what became of his child, my foster-sister, the little Nordisa ? Halvor {who has been nervously fidgeting about, now hastily interrupts). Here come all the folks for the dance. Now, Margit, do your duty, woman! See to the customers. {Hustles her off r.) If your ladyships really want to see the sports you will get the best view from the bridge yonder. 10 Baroness. Thank you, my good man, we are quite com- fortable here. [Dusts a bench with Halvor's blue coat, which is lying over it, spreads out coat, and is about to sit down. Halvor indiguantly snatches up coat, and brush- ing it carefully ivitJi his hand,j)uts it on. 8erva7its spread fnrs, and Baroness, Frederick, and Minna sit r. The peasants have cleared away all traces of the fair, straw, stalls, etc., a.nd now assemble with much bustle and anima- tion. Ballet of Norwegian national dances. When the Hailing strikes up, Minna, who has been looldng on eagerly, exclaims to Frederick. Minna. There! they are going to dauce the Hailing; i\> is irresistible. Lieutenant Hansen, come along. Frederick, With all my heart. [They join the dance, CHORUS {while the Hailing is danced). Hailing is a beautiful dance, Tra, ra, rara ! And I can dance it day and night, With a tra, ra, ra ! The heart and foot must both be light. The spirits at their wildest height. Before you dance the Hailing. Oh ! Hailing is a glorious dance, Tra, ra, rara ! And I can dance as well as most. With a tra, ra, ra ! There's none in all the merry host Of more untiring feet can boast In keeping up the Hailing. Hailing is a very fine dance. And I can dance it night and day ; I gladly would go on for aye. From childhood till my hair is gray. And only dance the Hailing. Baroness {aghast), Minna! This is disgraceful! My blood boils ! [As the dance comes to an end she tears Minna away, and brings her down to the front, L., shaking her by the arm. Minna only laughs merrily. 11 Baroness. Are you out of your senses, child ? What would Count Oscar say if he saw his betrothed romping with rustics in the arms of a bloodless soldier ? Minna. Say ? why, nothing. If he cared for me he would be here dancing with me instead of Fred — Lieutenant Hansen. Baroness. Persons of position and blood cannot behave so. Eemember the eyes of the world are turned upon you. Minna. I would prefer to have the eyes of a lover turned upon me. Baroness. Would you have Oscar hanging around you like a peasant lout, snatching a kiss in a corner ? Minna. I shouldn^t mind. Baroness. Where did you get such low ideas ? You make my blood run cold ! Ah, here is Oscar at last ! [Buring the above dialogue the peasants have again dispersed, the music still con- tinuing. Enter Oscar. KECIT. AND QUARTET. Baroness. Ah ! truant nephew, do you come at last ? You wear your love- chain loose, but it holds fast. Haste to the dear one ! [Oscar talies no notice of Minna. Quite right, you refrain. .. We must not dangle like a vulgar swain. Minna ! [Angrily crosses and pulls Mmi<^k away from Frederick, with whom she is animatedly^ conversing , intending to lead her to Oscar. The latter, at the same time, turns up the stage and avoids them, crossing round to Frederick. Baroness {to Minna). Affection is a holy thing. Do not too far disguise it, But freely suffer love to spring When parents authorise it. Minna, Frederich, and Oscar. Affection is a wayward thing, i We may not tyrannise it ; 1 The more we strive to clip its wing, j The more at random flies it. ^ Minna {to Oscar). Have you no greeting for the bride Whose hand you claim to-morrow ? What charm do yonder mountains hide, You break from with such sorrow ? 12 Oscar {enthusiastically). A charm no other spot affords, There guileless Nature dwells ; Deep in my heart vibrate the chords Touched by her wondrous spells. This valley could a bliss bestow Which elsewhere I can never know. Baroness (leading Minna to him). A fairer prospect here behold Than gloomy fjord or mountain cold. Frederick [tenderly). A fairer ne'er man's eye did bless, A second Eden to possess. Baroness. Pray, sir, be not so eloquent ; 'Tis not for you to compliment. Minna. Nay, madam, in this mode you see Count Oscar woos by deputy. Affection is a -! ^ -, >- thinsf, etc. (^wayward J °' Baroness. Landlord ! [Enter Halvor from inn.) Order my carriage at once. (Halvor hows and exit.) Perhaps, young people, you may be a little more amenable to reason when you consider your behaviour in cool blood. [Oscar has strolled away, looking at the view; Frederick and Minna are again flirting. Baroness drags Minna away, and they exit into inn. Oscar is about to ascend the road at hack. Frederick calls to him. All. DUET SCENE. Frederick. Stay, Oscar, stay awhile, my boyhood's friend ! How is this recklessness of yours to end ? Beauty awaits, and you avoid the spot. You wed fair Minna, yet you love her not. Vscar, My dying father bound me by an oath To wed none other than his sister's child. Boy like, I gave the promise, nothing loth. And dreamed not of what joy I was beguiled. For love was then to me naught but a word ; No thrill of passion in my heart had stirred. While now ! Frederick. You love ! I feared it might be so. Oscar. My word is pledged, from that I cannot go. But Frederick, hear : upon my soul has streamed A fairer vision than it ever dreamed. What words of mine can tell The magic of her spell ? A mountain view in the evening shade, Faint bells that told where the cattle strayed. The voice of a simple peasant maid. And that was all. 13 But that view within my heart remains, And ever I hear those homely strains, For the maiden has prisoned me in chains Most magical. FrcdericJc. Oh, Oscar ! For a fancy such as this You'd give up Minna and a life of bliss ? Oscar. Bliss comes with love, and love wakes not When others tie our marriage knot. Frederick. Ah, how I envy thee thy lot ! Oscar. With hosts of friends and a wealthy bride. Ancestral halls of stainless pride, What mortal should be dissatisfied ? Can such things pall ? Yes, all of these gifts alike I spurn ; To the mountain maid my longings turn, ■'TIS for love — true love, I wildly yearn ; And that is all. Minna (entering from the inn). Oscar ! (He takes no notice of her, she stamps impatiently.) Oscar ! Mamma desires you to attend her at once. She is very angry at your neglect of me — of her, I mean. [Oscar shrugs his shoulders, and strolls off into the inn, leaving Minna astonished and offended. Feedeeick smilingly offers his arm, and they go in together. Enter Andreas Beand over bridge at back. He is ragged and dusty, and supports his tottering steps with a staff. REGIT. AND AIR. Brand. At last ! at last ! [Overcome with joy and fatigue, he sinks down on a stone. After a pause he rises and advances further. ^Tis surely but a dream ! Yonder the sunlit mountain summits gleam. Here is the valley, there the river strays. The bridge, the village, all as in the days, The happy days, when here, with wife and child. On Andreas Brand Nature and Fortune smiled. Scent of the pine, oh, savour divine ! Once again is thy solace mine ; Burden of years, sorrow and tears, Fade from my soul as thy incense nears. O'er me flowing, strength bestowing. Hail, thou breath divine ! How could I leave my native valley, Love and a peaceful lot. 14 Seek against unknown foes to sally, And figlit, Heaven knows for what ? But we marched as we were bidden, Through the jaws of death, of hell, Though the wherefore rested hidden. We obeyed, and fought and fell. Oh, ages of anguish ! How long did I languish Within that land of woe, Where the sun dare hardly glow ! Oh, mercy of Heaven, That freedom has given, And led me home to die Beneath my native sky, Where the pine trees will whisper my lullaby ! Scent of the pine, oh, savour divine, etc. Enter Halvor /rom tJie inn, followed hy Maegit. Halvor. Don^t question me, Margit, and do let me alone a bit, there^s a good woman. I tremble at the very sight of these guests of ours, and shan^t know a minute^s peace till they are gone. But why I do so is a secret that doesn't concern you in the least to hear. Margit. Oh, very well! Of course it's right that a man should have secrets from his wife, especially when they've only been married ten years. {Grying.) I never kept any- thing from you in my life, and I told you when I took the six dollars out of your pocket to buy a dress, and I tell you all your friends say of you behind your back, and Halvor ('perceiving Brand). Hush, there's a stranger ! Hold your tongue, and do your duty, woman. {Goes up to Brand, who has sunlc on a seat, R.) What can I do for you, my friend ? We've excellent ale and- Holy heaven ! is it his ghost ? [Staggers hack in terror. Margit. Whose ghost ? It's flesh and blood. Brand. Yery little flesh, but not quite a ghost yet. Yes, I am Andreas Brand, or all that's left of him. Halvor and Margit. Andreas Brand ! Brand. And surely you must be my brother-in-law. Why, Halvor ! Courage, man ! I'm no such terrible object. I'm alive ! {Laughs painfully.) Ah yes, I'm alive ! Halvor {in despair). One thing atop of another ! It must all come out now, and I shall be ruined — I shall be ruined ! Margit. What is all this mystery about ? Brand. Halvor, lad, IVe been for nearly fifteen years in the mines of Siberia, and only by Heaven's mercy do I again stand on Norwegian soil. I am almost spent, Halvor, almost spent, but 'tis the fortune of war. I don't complain. Only tell me before I die — my wife and child — do they still live ? 15 Hal cor. Oli lor' ! oh lor' ! what shall I say ? Brand {vehemently). Do they live? Margit. Your daughter lives and is well. Your wife- Brand. I feared it ! Christina is dead. Well, well ! I shall soon rejoin her. But my little Nordisa ? Margit, Little ? She's a grown woman now. Brand. And is she like her poor mother ? Halvor {inter r U'pting) . You shall see for yourself soon. Meanwhile come in and rest a bit, you're quite worn out. Margit, do your duty, woman. {Aside) If I can only keep him out of the way till those people are gone ! Margit. Lean on my arm, Master Brand, and you shall soon enjoy a better meal and a softer bed than you have known for many a long day. [Assists him into inn. Halvor. Thank goodness, the Baroness and her party will be going directly. Perhaps they won't meet now, and after all these years he can't possibly recognise his child. {Starts timidhj.) Hallo, what's that ? [Music. A peasant has entered and begun to toll the bell which is suspended to a post by the bridge. Halvor. Why, I had forgotten ! This is the day Nordisa goes up to her winter quarters. What luck ! Hnter the Baroness, Minna, Oscar, Frederick, and servants from the inn. Baroness. What is the meaning of that blood-curdling noise ? Oscar, offer that man money to leave off. Halvor. No, no, with all respect to your ladyship ; he is doing a serious duty. It won't last long. Minna. But what is it for ? Halvor. That bell summons all the village to assist at an important ceremony. During the long dark winter, the cattle at the mountain soetars which cannot be brought down into the valley are tended by one devoted girl, whom we take up there on the last day of autumn in solemn procession. The minister himself accompanies us to pray for her safety. All the villagers bring contributions of food and what comforts they can for the brave guardian of their property, whose life is thus fear- fully risked. Minna. Terrible ! But who is this brave volunteer ? Halvor. She who has fewest relations to mourn her loss. The orphan Nordisa. Oscar. Nordisa ! It must be the same. {To the Baroness hurriedly) Aunt, I will follow you later; I would remain to witness this curious ceremony. Baroness. Impossible ! You would be delayed, and re- 16 member there is a far more interesting ceremony takes place to-morrow. Salvor. See, she comes ! [Shouts without; NoRDisA is ushered on at hack hy a crowd of peasants hearing provisions, furs, wood, etc. CHORUS. Willing hearts and hands their aid Bring the brave adventurous maid. To whose spirit, undismayed, ' Peril is no stranger. E'en the poorest give their share To the guardian angel fair, Who for common weal doth dare Misery and danger. Nordisa, Haste, haste ! The winter night draws nigh ; The sun is low and feeble in the sky ; I hear the black wind moaning round the hills, The coming danger all my being thrills. Hazard no more delay. Chorus. All is prepared — away ! Minna. Nordisa ! [Nordisa comes down. Is thy childhood quite forgot ? Long years ago I shared thy humble cot. I am thy foster-sister ; let mo serve thee, child. Nordisa (kissing her hand). Dear lady, goodness lights tliy features mild ; I need no help, or none thou couldst bestow. For three months am I prisoned in the snow. Oscar. Three months ! [Nordisa perceiving him, starts. Nordisa. Ah ! (Aside) That noble stranger here \ Minna. Three months ! how canst thou bear this fate severe? Nordisa. The first faint flakes fall softly on my face. The wind blows cold and keen, Then as the twilight gathers in apace But grayness grim is seen. Vanish the hills in covering of snow, Dull mists the heavens hide, A white pall glittereth above, below, Naught else can be descried. But God is everywhere, His eye can pierce the cloud. His ear can hear the voice of pray'r Beneath the snowy shroud. 17 Down swoops the storm and rends the snowy crest That on the mountains lay ; By summer^s sun 'twas nearly dispossessed, And falls an easy prey. Around my dwelling, far above my head, The Avalanche is hurled. Till spring unlocks my cell, alive or dead, I'm severed from the world. But Grod is everywhere, His hand directs the storm ; In hunger, cold, and dark despair, His word my heart doth warm. \_Ghorus repeat the refrain. Baroness {offering her purse to Nordisa). How shocking! I suppose such things must be. Here, child, take this ; your- face appeals to me. Nordisa. What use were money in the life I lead ? Give alms to the distressed : I have no need. Minna. Why should thy tender life be perilled thus ? Nordisa, leave this place and come with us. Nordisa. I cannot thus abandon my vocation ; I share my people's fortune and privation. Chorus. The pastor comes ! Nordisa, we await ! Minna. [The Minister advances. One farewell word before we separate ! Nordisa, Heaven alone can aid now lend. But in the future thou may^st need a friend. Take then this tablet, and its aid employ To seek my side ; 1^11 welcome thee with joy. \_Writes on her tablets and gives them to Nordisa. Chorus. Nordisa. Nordisa, haste away ! 'Tis near the fall of day. I come, I come ! Dear lady, we must part, Thy precious gift shall never leave my heart. Farewell, farewell to the midnight sun. To the summer^s golden glow, To the fleeting year that's well-nigh done, And sinks in a grave of snow. Farewell, farewell to the valley sweet, To the friends I leave and love; Who knows when we again shall meet. Whether here or in heaven above ? ^ Oscar (aside). From pursuit Til not be stayed. Madly love doth waken. Can I leave this hapless maid, By the world forsaken ? Baroness, Minna, and Fredsrich (to Oscae). Be by our entreaties stayed From this not mistaken ; You will surely be delayed. By the storm o'ertaken. Salvor (aside). Gone will be the cavalcade Ere the old man waken ; From pursuit he can be stayed, Weary, old, and shaken. Chorus. Farewell, farewell to the midnigbt sun, etc. [At this moment Beand totters from the inn, supporting hiynself with difficulty. Halvor, on seeing him, places himself so as to hide from view as much as possible the procession now going off at bade. Brand (spoJcen). I cannot rest. Where is my child, I say ? Margit. Thy child ? Behold, they lead her on her way Towards the mountain heights. Brand. Nordisa, stay ! \_He falls into a seat insensible. Halvoe sup>ports him. CHORUS (going off at bach). But God is everywhere, His band controls the storm, In hunger, cold, and dark despair, His word the heart doth warm. \_As the procession crosses the bridge at bach on its way up the mountains, the curtain slowly falls. END OF ACT I. ACT II. Scene. — The Mountain Soetar (or clicdet). Wild snowy jpeaks all around. Against a cliff on one side is a small jiracticahle hut, the front of which is open to the audience. Door in the side of this for entrance from stage. Inner door in bach supposed to lead into a rochy cavern. At hack of stage is a steep ravine, so that all characters mount 2tp from helow. There is also a narrow practicable path up the heights above on the side opposite to the soetar. Evening. Distant cattle bells. After a prelude of a pastoral character, the curtain rises and a shepherd boy is discovered sitting on a low rock at back overlooking the ravine, playing with a goat and singing an old Scandinavian ditty. Shepherd. "And Hjalmar he sits in his hillside farm, Singing fa^ la, la, la, ever so long. And he sighs with a face as long as my arm. Ha, ha, ha, what a funny little song ! " And Gerda she throws down her spinning in gloom, Singing fa, la, la, la, ever so long, And she scolds at her mother and cries in her room, Ha, ha, ha, what a funny little song ! " (Speaks.) The evening is drawing in and there will be a storm before night. It is surely time they came to bring Nordisa and let us poor fellows return to our families 1 I shall be heartily glad to get home, I know. (Sings.) " And when evening has come they go out for their walk, Singing fa, la, la, la, ever so long, And they neither will smile and they neither will talk. Ha, ha, ha, what a funny little song ! 20 " And it's closer they walk till their fingers meet, Singing fa, la, la, la, ever so long, And her tears are soon dried by his kisses sweet, Ha, ha, ha, what a funny little song ! " [Loolcs down, then springs to his feet. Here they come at last ! Where are my comrades ? {Galls) Ho! Axel! Ivor! Lars! [He seizes his mountain liorn and blows a call. It is answered hy others in the distance, and several shepherds, rough and wild in dress and manner^ descend the mountain path. They all gather round and look down the valley excitedly, watching the approach of Nor- DISA and her friends. Presently they appear, Nordisa led hy the minister^ and peasants following hearing supplies for the winter, which, during the following scene, they carry through the hut into the cavern. Chorus, Up the mountain's frowning side. O'er the torrent white and wide. Beyond the deathly glacier steep In willing toil our course we keep. And here Bid we farewell to thee, Nordisa dear. Nordisa. Dear friends, the joys of love I share Though nor hearth nor kin I own, With these signs of tender care I can never feel alone. Chorus. Scanty is our help at best, May our love supply the rest ! And may the thought of this impart A solace to thy lonely heart, Though here Bid we farewell to thee, Nordisa dear. Now ere we part let holy words be said Invoking Heaven's blessing on thy head. Pastor and Chorus. When fearful avalanches hurl, When storm and tempest chafe. When night's appalling wings unfurl. May Heaven keep thee safe ! Beset by cold and famine dire. Beyond all human ken. With none fresh courage to inspire May Heaven shield thee then ! 31 Commend thyself to God's control Should evil thoughts molest. Then on thy pure and sinless soul Shall Heaven's blessing rest. Farewell ! Farewell ! [NoEDisA kneels to receive the pastor's bless- ing ; all take leave of her and slowly retreat down the mountain steep. Nor- DiSA stands watching them out of sight and kissing her hand to them. Night gradually falls. Overcome by the sense of loneliness, Nordisa sinks down and covers her face with her hands, but quickly shaking off her fears, she rises again and gives a last look at the distant troop. Nordisa. " Farewell, farewell to the valley sweet. To the friends I leave and love ; Who knows when we again shall meet. Whether here or in heaven above ? " Yet am I scarcely more alone up here Than in the valley. See, the stars appear ! I must to work. [^Goes into the hut. First let my fire be roused, \_Blows up the embers, and lights lantern. And then to see my cattle are well housed. [Discovers a small bunch of wild flowers left for her. Flowers ! My shepherd friends have placed them there, These last reminders of the summer fair. [Forgetting her work, she comes out again musingly with the flowers in her hand. They raise their heads towards the setting sun, These poor sad flow'rs ; He sinks, the dreary winter night's begun. And heaven lowers. " Too short his wooing ! " wailingly they cry ; " Scarce have we blushed and opened than we die.*' Oh, hapless flow'rs ! That lose your happiness before 'tis won ! In yonder valley wanders sad and pale A lonely maid. Her song was once like that of nightingale. But now 'tis stayed. " Too short my happiness ! '' she sadly sighs, '' He woke my soul to life, yet from me hies." 99, Oh, hapless maid ! To find your dream of bliss dissolve and fade ! [She slowly re-enters the hut and disappears in the inner cave. Oscae climbs up from beloiv. He holes curiously about him. Oscar. Is this the spot where they have prisoned her ? I think not of the dangers I incur, Unreasoning love my reckless course doth spur. " Tell me, sweetheart, why dost thou dwell Here in this lowly shepherd cell ? " ^'Ah, but when love has entered there Never a palace were half so fair. Though one its narrowness may asperse. For two it embraces the universe." '' Tell me, sweetheart, what is this love ? Sure it hath power all else above V "Ah, but what tongue in words can tell Aught of its nature, its mighty spell ? Alone were its knowledge sought in vain, But two may find it and heaven attain.''^ [NoEDiSA is heard singing within, and emerges from the cave into the hut. Oscar starts at sound of her voice. Nordisa. " Here's pasture enough for twenty. Come hither ! Oome hither ! Up yonder ^tis not so plenty. Come hither, little friend ! " Oscar. ^Tis she ! I drink the tones ! Sing on, sweet bird ! A tender echo by thy voice is stirred ! Nordisa. '* Kisk life for a bunch of clover ? Come hither ! Come hither ! That's human the wide world over. Come hither ; night is near ! " [Oscar repeats the burden " Come hither like an echo to Nordisa' s voice. No mountain echo is't that mocks my song. To living mortal must that voice belong. \_Slie opens the door, and comes out with her lantern. Who's there ? Oscar. 'Tis I. Nordisa. The stranger ! Oscar. Nay, not so! On Oscar Lydal fairer name bestow. Call me thy friend, thy Nordisa, Bat why art thou here ? Night falls, the tempest draweth near. Hast thou the perils of thy road forgot ? By night our very guides would tempt them not. Oscar. My heart was my unerring guide, And with its promptings I complied. Nordisa. Thy words are strange : no instincts serve From Nature's warfare to preserve. Oscar. I saw thee uncomplaining led A victim to the sacrifice ; I saw thy tender footsteps tread The savage realms of snow and ice, I could but follow, could but seek The spot where thou wert left to pine ; What need then of myself to speak ? Canst thou my feelings not divine ? Nordisa. How strange to me is sympathy ! The friends I hitherto have known. Though all are good and kind to me. Speak not in such a heartfelt tone. This interest in my behoof, These pitying words my pulses warm. Come in, come in ! Beneath my roof Thou^lt find a shelter from the storm. Oscar {following her into the hut). What innocence ! What fearless grace ! How could I harbour purpose base ? Dear child, thy friend indeed I'll be, A brother's love I offer thee. If e'er I should betray the trust, Fall on me retribution just ! Nordisa. Ah, now indeed is Heaven kind. To brighten thus my lonely lot ; The friend whom I have longed to find Doth cheer at last my humble cot. A brother^s love is mine at last. And heaven opes. Oscar. Then tell me of thy life — thy past And future hopes. [Nordisa sits on a stool at Oscar's feet, in the firelight. Nordisa. A simple tale is mine, my brother; Of infancy without a mother. Of months and years like one another — Does't weary thee to hear ? Oscar. With eagerness I hear. Nordisa, Of days in soetars, cattle keeping, Of nights round neighbours' sick beds creeping, Of winters here in peril sleeping. A tedious tale, I fear. 24 Oscar. A tale to charm my ear. Nordisa. O'er one day only do I ponder, When as I watched my cattle yonder, A stranger to my sight did wander — "Twas thon, my brother dear. Oscar {carried away). That moment sealed thy fate and mine \ Oh, child, must I the truth reveal ? Our hearts a deeper love enshrine Than brother, sister ever feel. Nordisa. What love ? — what feeling dost thou mean ? Oscar {'passionately). That which I bear — my love, my queen ! The love that will not be suppressed, But pours a torrent from my breast. With fiery waves that force to flee All other tboughts but this from me ; Thou art my world, I worship thee ! Nordisa. Wild is the tumult in my soul; A flood of thoughts beyond control Pours through my brain and makes it reel. Say, is it joy or fear I feel ? Oscar. Thou awak'st from childhood's sleep, Another world doth ope ; New the life, tbe rapture deep, , My soul dared not hope. Nordisa. I awake from childhood's sleep, Another world doth ope ; New the life, the rapture deep. My soul dared not hope. Both. Through storm and night Love has found the way, No desert lone but has sometime known His torch's ray. Far from the world, this dreary spot He bathes in light, and Eden bright Is our poor cot. * All hail, thou mighty power. Revealed in this blest hour ! Nordisa. Through every vein a strange delirium flows ! How beats my heart ! Oscar. Let the night air compose Our spirits. Soft the moonlight glows. [They come out of the hut and stand hand in hand in the moonlight. Both. Peace, peace, wild heart ! Let Nature's solemn face Soothe thy unrest. Let Night the passionless her image trace Within my breast. In vain ! Unquelled by Darkness' raven wing, All Nature ruling as her rightful king, 25 Oscar, Nordisa. Oscar. Nordisa. Oscar. Supreme o^er time, o'er truth, o^er everything, Love stands confessed ! [They embrace tenderly, and remain awhile plunged in silent ecstasy. Suddenly Oscar tears himself away in violent remorse and agitation. What have I done ? What madness dire Has set my heart and brain on fire ? Nordisa, let me hence, for pity's sake ! Forget the words of madness that I spake ! Forget them ? Never, till I die ! Oh, Oscar, see yon lowering sky. Those shreds of vapour flitting past ! Hark to the moaning of the blast ! The moonlight pales ; the lightning's flash Across the sky makes crooked gash ! A fearful tempest gathereth ; Here thou art safe ; to go were death. Better to die than wreck thy life ! What dost thou mean ? Oh, bitter strife ! My oath ! my oath ! I dare not stay ! What matter life or death to me If I must say farewell to thee ? [Kisses her hands and strives to leave her ; she clings to him. Let me depart ! Nay, Oscar, nay ! I must go hence at any cost ! Nordisa (shrieks). Too late ! Back, back ! or you are lost ! [She drags Oscar by main force into the hut. The avalanche ! [A dully roaring sound is heard, and the avalanche pours down with fearful sud' denness, covering the whole plateau, re- presented by the stage, many feet deep in snow. The soetar, sheltered by the cliffs, is untouched, and as the moon, for a moment obscured by the gale, shines down peacefully again, the figures of Oscar and Nordisa are visible within the hut ; he standing transfixed and she kneeling in silent prayer. The figures of Brand and Halvor appear upon the rocky path above. Yonder's her prison, where the snow lies piled ! Entombed for months ! May Heaven protect my child. END OF ACT II. Nordisa. Oscar. Halvor ^{pointing) . Brand {in anguish). ACT III. Scene. — The Villa of Nymark on the outsMrts of Christiania.. A handsome drawing-room, with large window opening on to balcony at hack, from which a flight of steps is supposed to lead down into the garden below. Several months have elapsed since the last Act, and it is now a bright spring morning. Minna in bridal attire is standing by the window^ listening to the wedding-song of some peasants and dependents without. CHORUS {without). Springtime, springtime ! Now^s the time to woo. Come lovers both and plight your troth withouten more ado. The roses die, the seasons fly, and time is on the wing ; To kiss and toy then be not coy ; ^twill not be always spring. Minna. Ah, ^tis my peasant friends, who pay Their homage to my wedding-day. CHORUS. Springtime, springtime ! Now's the time to wed. May Heaven's care a blessing fair upon this couple shed ! Through summer^s glow and winter's snow if each to each but cling, The rolling years need wake no fears, for 'twill be always spring. Minna [to peasants). Dear friends, I value more your simple strains Than all the splendour that my heart disdains. \_8he flings out money to them, they shout and cry, " Long live the Countess Lydal ! " (Speaks) I wonder why every one is rejoicing to this extent over my marriage ! I cannot get up much enthusiasm myself. They overwhelm me with presents, the servants sing to me, the school children will be here presently to offer flowers and dance to me. l\e everything to make me happy — except love ! SONG. Take the world in the mass, And ^tis naught but a glass. Reflecting your face as before it you pass. If you smile it smiles back, If you frown it looks black, It will give what you bring and refuse what you lack. Pipe to ifc, and ^ twill dance, Meet you in your advance. But retreat, and in haste ifc will fly from your glance. Though a lifetime your slave, ^Twere in vain you should crave To bemirrored there when you have sunk to your grave. Take this world in the mass. And ^tis naught but a glass. Reflecting your face as before it you pass. But the world is my fate, So upon it I wait, Court the mirror like love-bird berefb of a mate. I will carol and sinsr, All my heart to it fling, Let it make me its queen, I'll make it my king. Enter Frederick with a letter. Frederick. Minna ! — I beg pardon, I should have said Minna. Oh, why stand on ceremony, Frederick? We have called each other by our Christian names ever since we could speak ; are we to leave off being brother and sister now, just when we are about to part? Oh, why ever did Osoar want to marry me ? FredericJc. Why, indeed ? Minna. Mamma says he is madly in love with me, and I suppose he must be, or else why after being supposed dead all these months should he pop up again and go on as if nothing had happened ? Who's that letter for ? Frederich. For the Baroness, from His Majesty the King. Minna. The King ? Good gracious ! FredericJc. Congratulations on her daup^hter's marriage, I presume. Oh, Minna, Minna, why was not I born a marquis ? Minna. Why was not I born a milkmaid ? Frederich {walhing ii-p and down). Why should I be so hatefully poor ? Minna {the same). Why should I be so abominably rich ? Frederich. Oh, if things were only different ! Minna. If things were only otherwise ! Frederich (stopping and loohing at her). Well, what then ? Minna (bashfully). Oh, I don't know. (Impetuously) Yes, I do ; what's the use of pretending ? I mean, we might be so happy together. ^^^ DUET. Minna and Frederich. 'Th little of the fates we pray, You and I. And yet we may not have our way. You and I. United let us only live. Let heaven daily bread but give ; 28 Then while our love and life endure^ Contented, we should ask no more Till we die, You and I. We scorn the snares of useless wealth, You and I, We only value joy and health,, You and I. Friends we can earn by kindliness. Pleasure by succouring distress. Though all its treasures life should pour. Contented, we should ask no more Till we die, You and 1. Enter the Baeoness Nymaek. Baroness [severely). Lieutenant Hansen, what are you doing here ? Frederick {confused). Well, in fact, Baroness, I — I was looking for you. Baroness. Looking for me? You were looking into Minna's eyes. You didn't expect to find me there, did you ? Frederick [trying to he gallant). Ah, yes, I did. Baroness; or at least a distant reflection of your charms. [Aside] I wonder what I meant by that. Baroness [pleased). Oh dear, Frederick, what a true soldier you are ! Flattery runs in your blood. Frederick. I am the bearer of a letter from the King. [Gives it to her. Baroness. From the King ? How delightful ! (Opens it and reads.) '' Best congratulations — daughter of my faithful general — slight souvenir — a coloneFs commission in the Guards — your daughter will fill in the blank with the name of her husband. '^ Why, how perfectly charming ! There's courtesy — there's blood ! Minna, the King sends you as a wedding present a colonel's commission for your husband. [Hands her the enclosure. Frederick. Lucky dog ! What wouldn't I give to be in his shoes ? Baroness. Come, child, let us look for Oscar. You are to fill in the name with your own hand, His Majesty says so. Minna [aside to Feedeeick). Oh, how I wish 1 could put in your name ! [Exeunt Baeoness and Minna. Frederick. This is the way of the world. The commission I have been struggling to earn, the bride I would give half my life to win, all are thrust upon that lucky dog Oscar, who, instead of enjoying his happiness, hides away somewhere in tlie mountains, leaving us to think him dead. Ah, there's none can value the gifts of fortune like a poor soldier. 29 SONG. I reared a castle fair and lofty-browed^ Fit home for hero proud. The nation^s darling and the king's right hand, Within I took my stand. My humble slaves both fate and fortune lie ; Ah_, who so blest as I ? Alas ! the rapture fades in daylight's beam, I waken to oblivion and despair; My triumph was the fabric of a dream_, My castle is a castle in the air. In childish days I loved a little maid^ Together oft we played. As years rolled on and life upon us grew. Our hearts yet closer drew. What blissful hour when to my home in pride I led my blushing bride ! Alas ! the rapture fades in daylight^s beam. That lovely form my heart will gladden ne'er. My love was but a mockery supreme. My castle was a castle in the air. \_The wedding guests arrive and are received by the Baroness. Minna and Oscar come in from opposite sides, attended by their friends. Two notaries lay out the marriage contract and other papers on the table. CHORUS. Sing, sing, birds of Spring, Blessings on this wedding bring ! Shine, shine, light divine. For the pair a blissful sign. Youth and beauty, rank and fame Our affection's tribute claim. Men, Hail the bride devoid of guile, Spotless as the robe she wears ! Well may Heav'n and Nature smile. Smoothing from her path all cares. Women. Hail the bridegroom frank and bold, Honour in his mien displayed ! Well may Fortune's hand withhold Aught that could his bliss o'ershade. Ail. Sing, sing, birds of Spring, etc. [The school children enter and offer flowers to Minna. 30 [DANCE OF CHILDREN.] Baroness. My friends, my children, now arrives The proudest hour in all our lives. Advance, and let the bond be sip^ned Ere holy rites your souls shall bind. [Minna advances to the table and signs th() contract; Oscae is about to follow. NoEDiSA enters through window at back, pale and weary. Chorus. What figure's this ? What does she here ? No wedding guest, 'tis very clear. Nordisa {to Minna). My benefactress, in despair and woe, Thy angel words a ray of hope did show. I've wandered hither, how I scarcely know. Minna (going to her). I promised to befriend thee, child, indeed ; Then be at rest, and tell me all thj need. Nordisa. How shall I find belief For all my tale of grief ? When he, my brother, fond and true. Who dwelt with me the winter through, Had left me to return full loth To one who claimed him by an oath. Then life to me was dark and drear. But sorrow merged in unknown fear, When all grew cold and turned from me, Hinting at shame and infamy. However innocent of wrong, Who can outbrave a venomed tongue ? When scoff and scorn were unrestrained. Before them I was forced to fly. With pain and toil thy side I've gained — Oh, spurn me not, or I must die ! Chorus. Who can have wronged such innocence ? It were a crime beyond defence. Baroness (impatiently). This is no time or place for explanation. I^he wedding's interrupted ! What vexation ! Nordisa. Wedding ! What, thine ? Oh, pardon, let me go ! Yes, thou'rt a bride. Alas ! I did not know ! May Heaven's blessing rest upon thy brow, And on thy bridegroom. \_She holes round in search of him. Oscar ! Is it thou ? l^She stands petrified for a few moments, then sinlis down and bursts into a wild fit of sobbing. Minna approaches to console her. Nordisa, mastering her emotion, rises and shrinks away from her. Nordisa. No, no ! Let me depart ! I owe thee this ! Oh, what am I that should disturb thy bHss ? 31 My last hope vanishes. One parting kiss ! [Kisses Minna's hand and Oscar's, then turns to go. Oscar. Nordisa, stay ! Not thus we part ! \ Minna. Nordisa, stay ! Misgivings start ! J Baroness and Chorus. Count Oscar, can it be This wrong" was done by thee ? Oscar. I am the author of her misery. Minna. Oh, shame upon the selfishness That wrongs a woman's trusting heart ! Who can such infamy confess Is dead indeed to conscience' smart. And think you I will be the bride Of one thus perjured and forsworn ? It were an insult to my pride ; I hold thee in contempt and scorn ! All. Oh, shame upon the selfishness That wrongs a woman's trusting heart ! Who can such infamy confess Is dead indeed to conscience' smart. What maiden would become the bride Of one thus perjured and forsworn ? She least of all whose wounded pride Has turned her love to hate and scorn ! [Minna tears the contract and flings it'_on the ground. Oscar. Nay, Minna, friends, forbear ! And let me all the truth declare. Thou knowest of my fatal vow ; That oath is heavy on my soul. In vain dost thou reject me now. Still am I bound in its control. I love Nordisa with a flame That rises earthly thoughts above ; Grief have I brought her, never shame, Else could I dare to say I love? [Goesicpto'i^ORDiSA. Nordisa, oh, my heart, farewell ! Our fates may not be reconciled. Between us stands this barrier fell — I'm vowed to Baron Nymark's child. Nordisa. That I should suffer matters not ; But ah, for thee, I feel the smart ; I can but pray that time may blot My worthless image from thy heart. Oscar. Farewell, then, 'tis our destiny To be of happiness beguiled. Forgive the woe I've brought on thee, Pray to forget me, oh, my child ! AIL What hopeless destiny is this ? On each side happiness beguiled ! He cannot seek with either bliss. This maid or Baron Nymark's child. Andreas Brand enters, followed by Halvor. Brand. Who speaks of Baron Nymark's child ? Where is the maid thus falsely styled ? All. What madman's here ? Brand. Andreas Brand. Oscar. Nordisa's father ! Brand, Understand : I seek a daughter, but this is not she. All. Explain yourself ! Brand (producing a paper). This paper that you see Is a confession writ in long past years By my dead wife. Yon quaking coward's fears Of punishment overcame him ; he suppressed it; But smitten with remorse has now confessed it. Halvor. Pray pardon me ! I meant no harm indeed. Baroness. But let us hear this statement then. All. Yes, read ! Baroness {opens paper and reads). "Being now on my death- bed, I confess that the infant entrusted to my care by Baroness Nymark has suffered a wrong through my sinful vanity. During the whole time she has been with me I have made her change places with her foster-sister, that I might enjoy for a while the sight of my own child finely dressed and admired by the village. My brother Halvor alone knows the truth, and I hereby charge him on my death to restore to the Baroness her real daughter — that is, the child known here as Nordisa. Signed — Christina Brand." All. Oh, wonder ! Can this tale be true ? Oscar. Nordisa, mine ! Nordisa. Yes, I am thine. [Frederick leads Minna to Brand, who embraces her. Minna {giving Frederick the commission). My husband, take the King's commission. Frederick {embracing her). This is the height of my ambition. Baroness. Art thou indeed my daughter dear ? The hand of Providence is here. All (resuming the wedding chorus). Sing, sing, birds of Spring, Joy unto Nordisa bring ! Past, past misfortune's blast. Happiness is hers at last. Let all voices far and wide Hail Count Oscar and his bride. end op the opera. CHAELEB DICXKKS AND ETAKS, CKYSTAL I'AlACZ VUr.\ (OPENED TO KEEP PACE WITH THE CIVIL SERVICE STORES.) Clothing", Hosiery, SHIRTS, HATS, BOOTS, BACS, PORTMANTEAUS, ETC., At least 25 per cent, under usual London Prices. 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COLLIS BROWITE'S CHLORODYNE. -Dr. J. C lOWNE Gate Army Medical Staff) DISCOVERED a REMEDY to de- notewhich he coined the word CHLO- RODYNE. Dr. Browne ia the SOLE DfVENTOB.and.asthe composition at Chlorodyiie cannot possibly be dis- coTsred by Analysis (organic sub- ■tances defying elimination), and tince the formula has never been pnb- iiihed, it is erident that any state- ment tx> the effect that a compound la identical with Dr. Browne's Chlo- rodyne must he false. This Caution is necessary, aa many persons deceive purchasers by false representations. _yroi D tSr. J. COLUS BBO^WTNE'S JlF CHLORODYNE.- Vice Chan oellor Sir W. PAGE WOOD stated publicly in Court that Dr. J. COLLIS BROWNE wad UNDOUBTEDLY thelNVENTOR of CHLORODYNE that the whole story of the defendant Freeman was deliberately untrue, and he regretted to say it had been orn to.— See Times, Julv 18th, 1S64. R. J. COLLIS BROWNE'S CHLORODYNE is the TRUE _ PALLIATIVE in lWTEBX7RAIiQIA,QOUT,CANCER i^lTOOTHACHE, RHEUMATISM 9. THE GREAT SPECinO "" FOR (^HOLERA, TARRHCBA, DYSEaiTTERY. ENERAL BOARD of HEALTH, London, REPORT that it ACTS as a CHARM, one dose generally suffi- cient. Dr. GIBBON, Army Medical Staff. Calcutta, states : " S DOSES COMPLETELY CURED MB of DIARRHCEA." To J. T. Davenport, London. Dear Sib,— We congratulate you upon the widespread reputation this justly-esteemed medicine has earned tor itself all over the East. As a re- medy of general utility, we mucli question whether a better is import- ed, and we shall be glad to hear of its finding aplace in every Anglo-Indian home. The other brands, we are happy to say, are now relegated to the native bazaars, and, jnd^ng from their sale, we fancy their sojourn there will be but evanescent. We could multiply instances ad infinitum of the extraordinary efficacy of DR. COLLIS BROWNE'S CHLORO- DYNE in Diarrhoea and Dysentery, Spasms, Cramps, Neuralgia, the Vo- miting of Pregnancy, and as a general sedative, that have occurred und^r our personal observation durifvg many years. In Choleraic Diarrhoea, and even in the more terrible forms of Cholera itself, we have witnessed its surprisingly controlling power, have never used any other form of this rnedidne than ColJls Browno'a* We: from a firm conviction that it is deo^ dedly the best, and also from a sensf of duty we owe to the profession and the public, as we are of opinion th«k the substitution of any other than Collis Browne's is a dehberate breach Of faith on the part of the chemist to prescriber and patient alike.— W« are. Sir, faithfulTy yours. 8YMES * CO., Members of the Pharm. So ' ' ' Great Britain, Chemists of His lencp the Viceroy of India. DR. J. COLLIS BROWNB'B CHLORODYNE is a liquid me. dicine which assuages PAIN of EVERY KIND, affords a calm, re- freshing sleep WITHOUT HEAD. ACHE, and INVIGORATES the nervous gystem when eihausted. D E R. J. COLLIS BRowmra CHLORODYNE rapidly (rata short all attacks of PILEPSY, SPASMS, OOZJOL PALPITATION, HYSTERIA IMPORTANT CAUTION.— The IMMENSE SALE of thia BB- MEDY has given rise to many UN- SCRUPULOUS IMITATIONS, Be careful to observe Trade Mark, Of all Chemists, Is. lid., 2s. 9d„ and 4a. 64, SoLB Manufacturer, J.T.DATKWPORT,38,Qt.RussellSt.'W«ft THE MEXICAN Will positively restore grey or white hair to its original colour, without leaving any stain or disagreeable odour Of all Chemists and Perfumers, price 3s. 6d. per bottle. HAIR RENEWER. BY 8PE0IAL APPOINTMENT TO H.R.H. THE PRIN GE OF WALES H.I.M. THE CZAR OF RUSSIA. MARCOVITCH & Co., MANUFACTUSSKS OW THB CBLSBKATXD PELLEGRINI AND VANITY FAIR U, AIR STREET, REGENT STREET, LONDON, W. THE BREAKING OF LAWS, REBELLING AGAINST GREAT TRUTHS. Instincts, Inclinations, Ignorance and Follies, Discipline and Self-denial, that precious boon. The highest and best in life. PREVENTABLE DEATH.— Why should fever, that vUe slayer of millions of the human race, not be as much and more huiUed up and its career stopped, as the solitary wretch who causes his feliow a violent death? The murderer, as he is called, is quickly made example of by the law. Fevers are, at most, universally acknowledged to be preventable diseases ; how is it that they are allowed to level their thousands every year, and millions to suffer almost without protest? The most ordmary observer must be struck with the huge blunder. Who's to blame? For the means of preventing premature death from disease read a large illustrated sheet given with each bottle of ENO'S _ FRUIT SALT. _ The information is invaluable. If this invaluable information were universally carried out, many forms of disease now producing such havoc would cease to exist, as Plague, Leprosy, &c., have done, when the true cause has become known. The FRUIT SALT (one of Nature's own products) keeps the blood pure, and is thus of itself one of the most valuable means of keeping the blood free from fevers and blood poisons, liver com- plaints, &c., ever discovered. As a means of preserving and restoring health it is unequalled ; and it is, moreover, a. pleasant, refreshing, and invigorating beverage. After a patient and careful observation of its effects when used, I have no hesitation m stating that, if its great value of keeping the body healthy were universally known, not a household {n the land would be without it, nor a single travelling trunk or portmanteau but would contain it. A GENERAL OFFICER writing from Ascot on January 2nd, 1886, says : — " Blessings on your FRUIT SALT. I trust it is not profane to say so, but in common parlance, I swear by it. There stands the cherished bottle on the chimneypiece of my sanctum, my little idol, at home my household gcd, abroad my vade mecum. Think not this is the rhapsody of a hypochondriac. No, it Is only the outpouring of a grateful heart. The fact is I am in common, I dare say, with numerous old fellows of my age (67), now and then troubled with a tiresome liver. No sooner, howeve-, do I nse your cheery remedy than exit pain, * Richard is himself again.' So highly do I value youi com- position that when taking it I grudge even the little sediment that will always remain at the bottom of the glass. I give, therefore, the following advice to those wise persons who have learnt to appreciate its inestimable benefits. When ENO'S SALT betimes you take, | But drain the dregs, and lick the cup. No waste of this Elixir make, | Of this, the perfect Pick-me-up." I USED MY FRUIT SALT freely in my last severe attack of fever, and I have every reason to say it saved my life. — ^J. C. End, Hatcham Fruit Salt Works. tt "PpGYPT — CAIRO. — Since my arrival in Egypt in August last, I have on three separate JLL occasions been attacked by fever, from which on the first occasion I lay in hospital for six weeks. The last two attacks have been, however, completely repulsed in a remarkably short space of time by the use of your valuable FRUIT SALT, to which I owe my present health, at the very least, if not my life itself. Heartfelt gratitude for my restoration and preservation impels me to add my testimony to the already overwhelming store of the same, and in so doing I feel that I am but obeying the dictates of duty. " Believe me to be, Sir, gratefully yours, " Mr. J. C. End." "A CORPORAL, 19th Hussars, 26th May, 1883. ENO'S FRUIT SALT. — " After suffering for nearly two and a half years from severe headache and disordered stomach, and after trying almost everything and spending much money without inding any benefit, I was recommended by a friend to try your FRUIT SALT, and before I had finished one bottle I found it doing me a great deal of good, and now I am restored to my usual health ; and others I know that have tried it have not enjoyed such good health for years, — Yours most truly, Robert Humphreys, Post Office, Barrasford." THE SECRET OF SUCCESS.—" A new invention is brought before the public, and com- mands success. A score of abominable imitations are immediately introduced by the un- scrupulous, whoj in copying the original closely enough to deceive the public, and yet not so exactly as to infringe upon legal rights, exercise an ingenuity that, employed in an original channel, could not fail to secure reputation and profit." — Adams. CAUTION. — Legal rights are protected in every civilised country. Read the following : — " In the Supreme Court of Sydney (N.S. W.) an appeal from a decree of Sir W. Manning perpetually restraining the defendant (Hogg) from selling a fraudulent imitation of ENO'S FRUIT SALT, and giving heavy damages to the plaintiff, has, after a most exhaustive trial of two days' duration, been unanimously dismissed with costs." — Sydney Mornins; Herald, November 26th. — Examine each bottle, and see that the capsule is maiked "ENO'S FRUIT SALT." Without it you have been imposed on by a worthless imitation. Sold by all Chemists. DIRECTIONS IN SIXTEEN LANGUAGES HOW TO PREVENT DISEASE. Prepared only at ENO'S FRUIT SALT WORKS, Hatcham, London, S.E., BY J. C. EKO'B VATEWT. CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS, CliVSTAL I'ALACK PRESS 30 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED MUSIC LIBRARY This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. i JUN 30 1975 p LD21A-10m-10,'74(S1945L) General Library University of California Berkeley Syracuse, N. Y. Stockton, Calif. ML50.C66.N6 C037528776 U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES CD37SEfi77ti DATE DUE Music Library University of California at Berkeley