COCHENILLE.

The supper awaits you.


THE CHORUS.

Supper, supper, supper awaits us!
No, really, no host
Receives more richly!

(They go out.)


HOFFMAN.

They are at last gone. Ah, I breathe!
Alone, alone, the two of us (approaching Olympia);
I have so many things to say,
Oh my Olympia! Let me admire you!
With your charming looks let me intoxicate myself.

(He touches her shoulder).


OLYMPIA.

Yes.