BATTISTA.
This way--this way--dear lady.
EMILIA (out of breath).
Oh! I thank you, my friend--I thank you. But, Heavens! Where am I? Quite alone, too! Where are my mother, and the Count? They are surely coming? Are they not close behind me?
BATTISTA.
I suppose so.
EMILIA.
You suppose so? Are you not certain? Have you not seen them? Were not pistols fired behind us?
BATTISTA.
Pistols? Was it so?