The Indian Woman (L'Indienne)

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SCENE X.

We are alone, what do you have to tell me?

ARIETTE A short, light musical aria.

If the most bitter pain,
Could ever
Atone for the greatest crimes,
The most sincere repentance,
At your knees,
Would obtain my pardon from you.

I said, (O unforgivable crime!)
That your soul was unfeeling,
You who were always so gentle;
I dared, a thousand times more impious,
To admit that I loved life
After the loss of a spouse.

Ah! take vengeance for your injury,
I must, Lord,
Submit myself to your rigor,
No, all the fire of nature,
Cannot ever
Repair such great crimes.

This is taking the matter very much to heart, & perhaps I myself have carried it a little too far, console yourself!

Me! Lord? ah! never. The funeral pyre alone can dry the source of my tears.

When I spoke to you earlier in that way, I did not