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SCENE II] THE MOURNING BRIDE 397
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.
Aim. Stay a while—
Let me look on thee, yet a little more.
Osm. What wouldst thou? thou dost put me from thee.
Aim. Yes.
Osm. And why? what dost thou mean? why dost thou
gaze so?
Aim. I know not; 'tis to see thy face, I think—
It is too much! too much to bear and live!
To see him thus again is 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!
Aim. Where hast thou been? and how art thou alive?
How is all this? All-powerful Heaven, what are we!
O my strained heart!—let me again behold thee,
For I weep to sec thee.—Art thou not paler?
Much, much; how thou art changed!
Osm. Not in my love.
Aim. 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 fold thee fast, and grow
To thee with twining? Come, come to my heart.
Aim. 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 I
Aim. 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,