We will,
My daffodil!

To the place where we'll abide
On my white horse you'll be riding:
Clouds of dust the moon will hide--
They will,
My daffodil!

[He lifts her in his arms. The sun is shining through the window
and lights up the room.]

HADDA PADDA [stretches her arms toward the light]. It is as though
I had wings. [Turns round in his arms, and folds him in her
embrace.] I will fly to my happiness.

CURTAIN




ACT II


(The following summer. A drawing-room in the Sheriff's house. The
furniture old-fashioned and elaborate. On the left, a door leading
to the dining-room. Against the wall, in front, a piano. On the
right, under a window, a chaise-longue. In the back, an open
window, through which can be seen green meadows, rising to a
plateau, over the edge of which roars a water-fall. At the