Too often under the moon, but there is more
Behind you than yourself. Your master has
Not sent you?
Matteo.
Yes, Signora. To your beauty
He sends salute; and to your lady cousin
Who ... O Signora, see! (staring) upon the terrace!
[He has broken off awestruck.
See, see! Oh, in her hand there is ... Oh!—oh!
[They turn and behold Porzia trancedly approaching, a stiletto before her and her lips moving obliviously.