Oh, ecstacy of thought! Help me, Anselmo;
Help me, Alphonso; take me, reach thy hand;
To thee, to thee I call; to thee, Alphonso:
Oh, Alphonso!
OSMYN ascending from the tomb.
Osm. Who calls that wretched thing that was Alphonso!
Alm. Angels, and all the host of heaven, support
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, Speak to it quickly, quickly; speak to me, Comfort me, help me, hold me, hide me, Leonora, in thy bosom, from the light, And from my eyes!
Osm. Amazement and illusion !
Rivet and nail me where I stand, ye powers,
That, motionless, I may be still deceived!
Let me not stir, nor breathe, lest I dissolve
That tender, lovely form of painted air,
So like Almeria. Ha! it sinks, it falls;
I'll catch it ere it goes, and grasp 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!
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.
Hel. Ha! 'tis he! and with-Almeria! Oh, miracle of happiness! Oh, joy Unhoped for! Does Almeria live?
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?
Am I so altered, or art thou so changed,
That, seeing my disguise, thou seest not me?
Alm. It is, it is Alphonso! 'tis his face,
His voice-I know him now, I know him all.
Oh, take me to thy arms, and bear me hence,
Back to the bottom of the boundless deep,
To seas beneath, where thou so long hast dwelt.
Oh, how hast thou returned? How hast thou
The wildness of the waves and rocks to this;
That, thus relenting, they have given thee back
To earth, to light and life, to love and me?
Osm. Oh, I'll not ask, nor answer, how or why
We both have backward trod the paths of fate,
To meet again in life; to know I have thee,
Is knowing more than any circumstance,
Or means, by which I have thee
To fold thee thus, to press thy balmy lips,
And gaze upon thy eyes, is so much joy,
I have not leisure to reflect, or know,
Or trifle time in thinking.
Let me look on thee yet a little more.
Osm. What wouldst thou? thou dost put me from
Osm. And why? What dost thou mean? Why dost thou gaze so?
Alm. I know not; 'tis to see thy face, I think
It 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
How is all this? All-powerful Heaven, what are we?
Oh, my strained heart-let me again behold thee, For I weep to see thee-Art thou not paler? Much, much; how thou art changed!
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,
I shall have passed all æràs then
Of yet unmeasured time; when I have made
This exquisite, this most amazing goodness,
Some recompense of love and matchless truth.
Alm. 'Tis more than recompense to see thy face
If Heaven is greater joy, it is no happiness,
For 'tis not to be borne-What shall I say?
I have a thousand things to know and ask,
And speak-That thou art here beyond all hope,
All thought; and all at once thou art before me,
And with such suddenness hast hit my sight,
Is such surprise, such mystery, such ecstasy,
It hurries all my soul, and stuns my sense.
Sure from thy father's tomb thou didst arise?
Osm. I did; and thou, my love, didst call me;
Alm. True; but how cam'st thou there? Wert
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 thee
Alm. But still, how cam'st thou thither? How
thus? -Ha!
What's he, who, like thyself, is started here
Ere seen ?
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