Love ... whom?
Bianca.
Osio!
Yet dare not so you draw him with denials,
Knowing that to repel is to entrain him.
[As Porzia stares, stupefied.
O mockery of it! fools my eyes were, fools,
That stood within my head and did not see!
To me he spoke of love—yearning for you,
And in me heard but echoes of you ... ever!