Ah, si, ecco lo sposo

English Libretto or Translation:

Scene VII
Rodelinda, then Bertarido, and to them
Grimoaldo with guards

Rodelinda
See, see, he comes, the lord of my desires,
my life, my soul, my all!
(runs to embrace him.)

Bertarido
Hold, for I am, by no means, worthy, yet,
to taste the blessing of thy chaste embraces,
since I dar`d call thy wond`rous trust in
question.
O let me first, upon my bended knees,
prostrate before thee, in the humblest manner,
implore thy pardon for my false suspicions,
absolve me, virtuous beauty, from that crime,
then, chear`d and pardon`d, clasp me to thy
bosom.

Rodelinda
Beneath the vaulted heavens, her`s nought
sufficient, to cool and damp the fervour of our love,
with the raw qualms of fore-ey`d jealousy.
Ah, thou`rt my soul –Embraces him.

Grimoaldo
Shall I believe my eyes – is this your chaste
one?

Bertarido
(Unhappy!)

Rodelinda
(Most unhappy!)

Grimoaldo
Is this the boasted constancy of faith,
which you, (o Rodelinda) would preserve
tow`rds your departed spouse?
Was is, for this, that, when a king, your lover
offer`d to take you by the hand, his bride,
and lead you up, all sparkling, to his throne?
You threw him from you like some loath`d
disease,
and spurn`d at him with insolence of pride?

Rodelinda
(Thank heav`ns, he knows not that it is my
husband, o love assist me now, o help to save
him, save but my husbands life – let honour suffer
the wrongs of each rash judgement – on that
score, I will be a willing sufferer.)

Grimoaldo
Oh thou, quite lost to modesty,
hast me one word to offer for thyself?
Say, what defence,
what stories art thou framing in the head,
and what excuse to varnish ov`r thy guilt?
How could`st thou stoop to some stray goat of
lewdness, thou, that could`st scorn a monarchs
marriage-bed?

Rodelinda
All this, indeed, is true.

Bertarido
(And shall I, out of base and servile fear
permit her honour to be blasted thus,
permit her virtue, white as new fall`n snow,
to be thus tainted by detractions breath?
No, welcome death, so but her honour lives!)
No, Grimoaldo, wrongfully you tax
of falsehoods vile and foul impurity
the truest, chastest and sincerest heart.
Chaste, where the fond embraces, that you saw,
place`d, where they due, within a husbands
arms, know, I am he, my name Bertarido!

Grimoaldo
Bertarido?

Rodelinda
That story will not pass - - `tis known too well,

Grimoaldo
Ay, that Bertarido is long since dead.

Rodelinda
He feign`d it well, howev`r, to save my honour.

Bertarido
To prove, that `tis no fiction, that I`m he,
you need but think, that to pr eserve my life,
sits nearer to her heart, than her own honour.