(He rests his forehead on his hand a few minutes, and exclaims,)
The past returns to me again—the lore
I gladly had forgot comes like a ghost,
And points with shadowy finger to the means
Which best shall consummate my just design.
The laboratory hath been closed too long;
The door smiles welcome to me once again,
The dusky latch invites my hand—I come!
(He unlocks the door and stands upon the threshold.)
Oh, thou whose life was stolen from me here,
Stand not to thwart me in this great revenge;
But rather come with large propitious eyes
Smiling encouragement with ancient looks!
Ye sages whose pale, melancholy orbs
Gaze through the darkness of a thousand years,
Oh, pierce the solid blackness of to-day,
And fire anew this crucible of thought
Until my soul flames up to the result!
(He enters and the door closes.)
Scene II. Another apartment in the alchemist's house.
Enter Rosalia and Bernardo.
Ros. You tell me he has not been seen to-day?
Ber. Save by your trusty servant here, who says
He saw his master, from without, unclose
The shutters of his laboratory while
The sun was yet unrisen. It is well;
This turning to the past pursuits of youth
Argues how much the aspect of to-day
Hath driven the ancient darkness from his brain.
And now, my dear Rosalia, let thy face
And thoughts and speech be drest in summer smiles,
And naught shall make a winter in our house.
Ros. Ah, sir, I think that I am happy.
Ber. Happy?
Why so, indeed, dear love, I trust thou art!
But thou dost sigh and contemplate the floor
So deeply, that thy happiness seems rather
The constant sense of duty than true joy.