_Teresa_ begs the villagers to make less disturbance, as poor _Amina_ is asleep in the mill. The girl's foster-mother learns of _Elvino's_ intention of marrying _Lisa_. Straightway she takes from her bosom _Lisa's_ handkerchief, which she found hanging over _Rodolpho's_ bedpost. _Lisa_ is confused. _Elvino_ feels that she, too, has betrayed him. _Rodolpho_ again urges upon _Elvino_ that _Amina_ never was false to him--that she is the innocent victim of sleepwalking.
"Who can prove it?" _Elvino_ asks in agonized tones.
"Who? She herself!--See there!" exclaims _Rodolpho_.
For at that very moment _Amina_, in her nightdress, lamp in hand, emerges from a window in the mill roof. She passes along, still asleep, to the lightly built bridge spanning the mill wheel, which is still turning round quickly. Now she sets foot on the narrow, insecure bridge. The villagers fall on their knees in prayer that she may cross safely. _Rodolpho_ stands among them, head uncovered. As _Amina_ crosses the bridge a rotting plank breaks under her footsteps. The lamp falls from her hand into the torrent beneath. She, however, reaches the other side, and gains the stone steps, which she descends. Still walking in her sleep, she advances to where stand the villagers and _Rodolpho_. She kneels and prays for _Elvino_. Then rising, she speaks of the ring he has taken from her, and draws from her bosom the flowers given to her by him on the previous day. "Ah! non credea mirarti sì presto estinto, o fiore" (Scarcely could I believe it that so soon thou would'st wither, O blossoms).
[Music: Ah! non credea mirarti sì presto estinto, o fiore,]
Gently _Elvino_ replaces the ring upon her finger, and kneels before her. "Viva Amina!" cry the villagers. She awakens. Instead of sorrow, she sees joy all around her, and _Elvino_, with arms outstretched, waiting to beg her forgiveness and lead her to the altar.
"Ah! non giunge uman pensiero Al contento ond'io son piena" (Mingle not an earthly sorrow With the rapture now o'er me stealing).
Ah! non giunge uman pensiero Al contento ond'io son piena]
The "Ah! non giunge" is one of the show-pieces of Italian opera. Nor is its brilliance hard and glittering. It is the brightness of a tender soul rejoicing at being enabled to cast off sorrow. Indeed, there is about the entire opera a sweetness and a gentle charm, that go far to account for its having endured so long in the repertoire, out of which so many works far more ambitious have been dropped.