On Never Thinks of Everything,

Ah! My nanny, my knees are trembling beneath me.

It is the fresh air.

Let us stop here for an instant.

I am willing, no one is passing by.

My nanny, why then all this restraint?

Your guardian has his reasons.

Is it to make himself loved?

No; but so that you are not loved.

Ah! If someone loved me, if I loved, I would be like a boarder at my convent.

How did she act?

This is what she used to sing:

ARIETTA.

Even in the smallest thing
I see my lover imprinted;
When I scatter a rose,
In every petal he is painted.
I see him in the cloud
That the air moves at its whim;
For me everything is his image:
My heart has sighed for it.
If I embroider some work,
In the nuanced design
I see his features, his face
Traced upon the canvas.
If I read, on every page
His name seems placed;