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Oh, ecstacy of thought! Help me, Anselmo;
Osmyn ascending from the tomb. Osm. Who calls that wretched thing that was
Alphonso ? Alm. Angels, and all the host of heaven, support
me! Osm. Whence is that voice, whose shrillness, from the
grave, And growing to his father's shroud, roots up Alphonso ?
Alm. Mercy! Providence ! Oh, speak,
Osm. Amazement and illusion !
her shade! 'Tis life ! 'tis warm! 'tis she, 'tis she herself! Nor dead, nor shade, but breathing and alive! It is Almeria, it is my wife !
Enter Heli. Leon. Alas! she stirs not yet, nor lifts her eyes ; He, too, is fainting-Help me, help me, stranger, Whoe'er thou art, and lend thy hand to raise These bodies.
Hèl. Ha! 'tis he! and with -Almeria! Oh, miracle of happiness! Oh, joy Unhoped for! Does Almeria live?
Osm. Where is she ! Let me behold, and touch her, and be sure 'Tis she; shew me her face, and let me feel Her lips with mine—'Tis she, I am not deceived; I taste her breath, I warm her and am warmed. Look up, Almeria, bless me with thy eyes ; Look on thy love, thy lover, and thy husband! Alm. I have sworn I'll not wed Garcia: why do
ye.force me? Is this a father?
Osm. Look on thy Alphonso. Thy father is not here, my love, nor Garcia : Nor am I what I seem, but thy Alphonso. Wilt thou not know me? Hast thou then forgot
Hast thou thy eyes, yet canst not see Alphonso ?
Alm. It is, it is Alphonso ! 'tis his face,
Oh, how hast thou returned? How hast thou
Osm. Oh, I'll not ask, nor answer, how or why
Alm. Stay a while Let me look on thee yet a little more. Osm, What wouldst thou? thou dost put me from
thee. Alm, Yes. Osm. And why? What dost thou mean? Why
dost thou gaze so ? Alm. I know not; 'tis to see thy face, I thinkIt is too much! too much to bear and live! To see thee thus again in such profusion Of joy, of bliss—I cannot bear-I must Be mad-I cannot be transported thus. Osm. Thou excellence, thou joy, thou heaven of
love ! Alm. Where hast thou been ? and how art thou
alive? How is all this? All-powerful Heaven, what are we?
Oh, my strained heart--let me again behold thee,
love. Alm. No, no! thy griefs, I know, have done this
to thee. Thou hast wept much, Alphonso; and, I fear, Too much, too tenderly, lamented me.
Osm. Wrong not my love, to say too tenderly. No more, my life; talk not of tears or grief; Affliction is no more, now thou art found. Why dost thou weep, and hold thee from my arms, My arms which ache to hold thee fast, and grow To thee with twining? Come, come to my heart !
Alm. I will, for I should never look enough. They would have married me; but I had sworn To Heaven and thee, and sooner would have died
Osm. Perfection of all faithfulness and love !
Alm. Indeed I would—Nay, I would tell thee all, If I could speak; how I have mourned and prayed : For I have prayed to thee, as to a saint; And thou hast heard my prayer; for thou art come To my distress, to my despair, which Heaven Could only, by restoring thee, have cured. Osm. Grant me but life, good Heaven, but length
of days, To pay. some part, some little of this debt, This countless sum of tenderness and love, For which I stand engaged to this all-excellence; Then bear me in a whirlwind to my fate, Snatch me from life, and cut me short unwarned:
Then, then, 'twill be enough-I shall be old,
Alm. 'Tis more than recompense to see thy face
thou. Aln. True ; but how cam'st thou there? Wert
thou alone? Osm. I was, and lying on my father's lead, When broken echoes of a distant voice Disturbed the sacred silence of the vault, In murmurs round my head. I rose and listened, And thought I heard thy spirit call Alphonso; I thought I saw thee too; but, Oh, I thought not That I indeed should be so blest to see theeAlm. But still, how cam'st thou thither? How
thus? -Ha ! What's he, who, like thyself, is started here Ere seen?