eternal love for each other, to each other. But, spurred on by
Frederick and the memory that "England expects, etc.," Gerald finds
the call of the fife and drum more potent than the voice of love.
Lakme, psychologist as well as botanist, understands the struggle
which now takes place in Gerald's soul, and relieves him, of his
dilemma by crushing a poisonous flower (to be exact, the Datura
stramonium) between her teeth, dying, it would seem, to the pious
delight of her father, who "ecstatically" beholds her dwelling with
Brahma.

The story, borrowed by Gondinet and Gille from the little romance
"Le Mariage de Loti," is worthless except to furnish motives for
tropical scenery, Hindu dresses, and Oriental music. Three English
ladies, Ellen, Rose, and Mrs. Bentson, figure in the play, but
without dramatic purpose except to take part in some concerted
music. They are, indeed, so insignificant in all other respects
that when the opera was given by Miss Van Zandt and a French
company in London for the first time in 1885 they were omitted, and
the excision was commended by the critics, who knew that it had
been made. The conversation of the women is all of the veriest
stopgap character. The maidens, Rose and Ellen, are English ladies
visiting in the East; Mrs. Bentson is their chaperon. All that they
have to say is highly unimportant, even when true. "What do you
see, Frederick?" "A garden." "And you, Gerald?" "Big, beautiful
trees." "Anybody about?" "Don't know." "Look again." "That's not
easy; the fence shuts out the view within." "Can't you make a
peephole through the bamboo?" "Girls, girls, be careful." And so on
and so on for quantity. But we must fill three acts, and ensemble
makes its demands; besides, we want pretty blondes of the English
type to put in contrast with the dark-skinned Lakme and her slave.