Characters
Valentinus, a priest of the Christian Church in Rome.
Asterius, chief officer of the Prefect Calpurnius.
Pertinax, overseer of farm and gardens at the country villa of Asterius.
Nerva, a boy, servant in the town house of Asterius.
Tertulla and Quartilla, unmarried daughters of Asterius.
Maronis, a woman servant in attendance on Tertulla and Quartilla.
Other servants.
Time: The fourteenth of February [the sixteenth day before the Kalends of March] during the reign of the Roman Emperor Claudius II [A. D. 268-270].
Scene: A room in the town house of Asterius. The scene shows a room furnished in Roman style, but plainly, with table, chair, bench and stool. High up on one wall is an aperture with wooden shutters, now open to admit light and air. Through this window may be seen the branches of a tree, bare of leaf, yet with buds swelling, and a glimpse of sky. In the same wall is a door which gives exit to the lane at the back of the house. On the other side is a curtained opening to another room.... On the table are writing materials of the kind in use at the time. Seated so as to catch the light Valentinus is busily engaged in writing. Enter Nerva bearing a jar of steaming pottage, with a spoon, also a platter with a square, flat cake of bread.
Nerva.
Behold, your supper, Valentinus! [He sets down his burden.] Supper, I say. And though but prisoner’s fare, yet, through some bewitchment you exercise over the entire household, myself excepted, seasoned with the cook’s best art! [He sniffs the pottage.] M-m-m!
Quartilla.
[Head between the curtains.] Bo!... Valentinus! Tilla says Bopeep!
Valentinus.
Ah, my little Quartilla! One sixtieth portion of an hour and I shall have done!... [Still engrossed with work.]
Quartilla.
Sh! [She enters on tiptoe, and one sees that she is an attractive child.]
Nerva.
What have you there, Quartilla? [He tries to help himself from a basket of dainties she carries.] What, cheese cakes, almond cakes, and little tarts! M-m-m!
Quartilla.
Nerva! Audacious one, forbear! These are for Valentinus!
Nerva.
Wasted on him, when all day he does nothing but spoil good parchment with the juice of the cuttle-fish, only pausing to mend his split reed, or erase a mark with pumice-stone!
Quartilla.
He writes words of comfort to his afflicted people whom our godlike Emperor thinks fit to persecute!
Nerva.
[Devouring a tart.] Persecute! By the immortal gods I like such persecution!
Quartilla.
Peace, brazen one! [She goes to the curtains.] Enter, Pertinax, and gaze on our distinguished guest!
Nerva.
Distinguished guest! A jail-bird whom the jail is too full to hold, and so committed by the Prefect Calpurnius to the care of my master, Asterius, and in his absence to mine! Distinguished guest, forsooth!
Pertinax.
[Enters, a manly young fellow of pleasing personality. His arms are full of flowering branches, also he carries a basket of flowers.] So this is Quartilla’s wizard!
Nerva.
Quartilla’s wizard, everybody’s wizard. Well may you say so! How else but by wizardry do you account for Asterius sending him dainties from his own table ... Asterius who seals up the very salt-cellar in his thrift!
Quartilla.
[Laughs.] Hush! That is my secret! I steal them for him! Though I present them to him with my father’s greetings, else, so honest is he, he would make me put them back! [The Others exclaim.] Yet, do you know, sometimes I fancy my father sees the theft, but turns his head aside!
Nerva.
Magic! [Going.] By the gods and goddesses, why am not I a Christian and a prisoner!
Valentinus.
[Laying work aside.] These lengthening days tempt me to prolong work! Now, Tilla; is it a doll to be mended, or a table in weights and measures to be learned, or.... [He pauses, seeing Pertinax.]
Quartilla.
This is Pertinax, overseer at my father’s farm!
Valentinus.
Greetings to you, Pertinax!
Pertinax.
And to you kindly, Valentinus. May the blessing of the gods be to you as a plenteous year’s harvest! [He sets down his burden.] Though I am told that you Christians no longer believe in our ancient gods of Rome!
Valentinus.
But we believe in blessings, from whatever source!
Pertinax.
That lies beyond my comprehension. But then, I am told, you work miracles!
Quartilla.
Indeed he does! He has mended my doll’s nose, and made me remember how many quarts of water you can pour into an amphora!
Nerva.
[Entering with an amphora of water while she speaks.] As if anyone could not do as much!
Quartilla.
None other has ever done it, all the same!
Nerva.
[Arms akimbo.] Come, then, wizard; prove yourself! dispose for us some prodigy!
Valentinus.
What, Nerva, would you consider such?
Nerva.
Oh, that a hen should crow, or a black dog should suddenly bound through the room, or a snake come down the pipe into the cistern, or that the statue of Jupiter should laugh!
Valentinus.
None of which things can I bring to pass! Nor do I call them miracles!
[Nerva laughs, sneering.]
Pertinax.
How, sir, do you define a miracle?
Quartilla.
Instruct them, Valentinus! Give them proof!
Valentinus.
[Rolling up his parchment, thoughtfully.] Hm! Well, then, will you, Pertinax, and you, Nerva, walk a few paces from me toward the door?
Quartilla.
[Dancing with joy.] A proof! A demonstration!
Valentinus.
Not so! Merely a definition!... Toward the door!
Nerva.
[Mocking, though complying.] Which, no doubt, will fly open of its own accord at our approach!
[The Two comply, walking toward the door.]
Quartilla.
[Dancing about.] Now you’ll see; you’ll see!
[With his rolled parchment Valentinus gives each youth a sharp blow across the shoulders. With an indignant cry they turn about.]
Pertinax.
Now, by Hercules...!
Nerva.
May Castor and Pollux rend me if I see...!
Valentinus.
[Mildly.] Did you feel that blow, Pertinax?
Pertinax.
By Hercules, how should I not do so!
Valentinus.
Ah! And you, Nerva?
Nerva.
By Castor and Pollux, am I a stone!
Valentinus.
Ah! Well, it would have been a miracle if you had not felt it!
[The Two look rather discomfited, then Pertinax laughs, seeing the humour of it, while Nerva goes, crest-fallen.]
Quartilla.
[Recovering from delighted mirth.] Oh, that was lovely! But, come, now. Pertinax has a secret to confide in you. Meanwhile eat your supper. It is past the ninth hour, and all day you have worked fasting! Oh, not that bread! My father’s greetings and will you partake of this! [Substitutes fine bread from her basket for that which Nerva has brought, whereon Nerva at the curtains coughs.] Now, Pertinax! What, bashful? Then I’ll tell! He writes poetry! Beautiful poetry!
Pertinax.
[Modestly, though flattered.] Oh, modest strophes that call for an indulgent ear! Numbers whose measures course through my brain while I superintend the pruning and grafting, the ploughing and planting! As for instance, by your leave! [Taking out a scroll he reads.]
Quartilla.
[Rapturously.] Is it not heavenly?
Valentinus.
Truly it has ever been a favourite of mine since in my schoolboy days I conned my Anacreon! [Pertinax looks discomfited, Quartilla sympathetic, while Nerva, looking in at the curtains, bursts into peals of laughter.]
Nerva.
Anacreon! By Momus, but that’s funny! Anacreon, indeed, my poet!
Pertinax.
[Seizing on Nerva.] Shameless one than whom none is more contemptible! To perdition with you! May the gods give you your deserts! May you be buffeted with fists, jerked with rods, pricked with goads, pinched with red-hot tongs, roasted over a scorching fire, and thrown to wild beasts to be devoured!
Nerva.
Help, help! Hercules, I invoke thy aid! Oh, I’m destroyed utterly!
Quartilla.
[Dancing for joy.] Thumbs up! Don’t spare him, Pertinax! Thumbs up! [She presses her thumbs upward in the manner of the spectators at a gladiatorial contest when they wished the vanquished contestant to be slain.]
Valentinus.
[Interposing, rescues Nerva.] There, there! That is punishment enough for youthful levity!
Pertinax.
[Sinks into a seat and wipes a heated brow.] Levity? No cork on water was ever of character more light! Had I you under me at the farm ... [Threatens Nerva who runs off.] ... I’d change your tune!
Nerva.
[As he goes, taunting.] Anacreon! Ha, ha! Anacreon!
Pertinax.
Master, I confess to the theft of an older poet’s words, but the feeling they clothe is all my own, generated here! [Hand on breast.] Suffer me to explain! But, first, Quartilla, leave us!
Quartilla.
[Grumbling.] As usual! Whenever things become interesting it is, “Quartilla, leave us!”
Valentinus.
How fares our sister Tertulla whom not since early morning have I seen?
Quartilla.
Not well!
Pertinax.
[Starting up, agitated.] What! Tertulla ... Asteria Tertia ... she is ill?
Quartilla.
Oh, not ill! Tulla is sad. All day Tulla sits apart and sighs, “Eheu! Woe is me!” And all because my father has not taken her as usual to the country!
Valentinus.
Tertulla has fewer pleasures than those who can see!
Quartilla.
That is true! Wait! [She has an inspiration.] I have a way to cheer her! I’ll tell her Pertinax is here! [About to go.]
Pertinax.
[Greatly agitated.] The gods forbid! Quartilla, if so you do, never again will I pluck sweet pears for you and grapes and pomegranates when you steal out to me in the orchard!
Quartilla.
[Teasing.] See now how frightened he is! One would think my poor sister to be accursed, the way he always runs from her! However as I love sweet pears and grapes and pomegranates I promise I won’t tell!
Pertinax.
The heavens reward you!
Quartilla.
[Running off.] I’ll make her guess it for herself!
Pertinax.
[Sighs.] Eheu! Wretched I! Master ... [He waxes confidential.] I have a secret! I love!
Valentinus.
In the springtime of your life and of the year why not?
Pertinax.
Why not, indeed! But.... There is a but!
Valentinus.
As always!
Pertinax.
But never was a but so insurmountable as mine!
Valentinus.
Again, as always!
Pertinax.
While occupying an enviable position as overseer of my master’s farm I should be happier as a public slave working in the stone-quarries or the mill! Worn to the heart with longing I am of mortals the most wretched! I cannot sleep, I cannot eat! [Absent-mindedly he helps himself to a little cake from Quartilla’s basket and nibbles it with relish.] To such a degree has love inflamed me that, but for my tears, I should be consumed with fire! My wits wander like cows at pasture! No longer do I remember when to sow the three months’ wheat, or how to set out a rose-bed! A row of lilies or of leeks, it is all the same to me! [Sighs deeply.]
Valentinus.
Not so, judging by the fruits of your husbandry! [Indicating the flowers.]
Pertinax.
Ah-h! These are different! These are sacred blooms ... my source of inspiration! These come from Tertulla’s garden!
Valentinus.
[Understanding the position.] Hm! Tertulla!
Pertinax.
[Corroborating.] Even so! Tertulla! I have looked with inclination on the maid from the day when I, a by-standing youth, drew her from the reach of the fateful flames of her mother’s funeral pile into which in her grief she was about to cast herself ... an act of filial piety which, combined with excessive weeping, cost her the sight of her lovely eyes! When, rewarding me, Asterius purchased me, I rejoiced in the exchange of masters, for the opportunity this would afford me constantly to behold my divinity-on-earth! I have watched her grow like the sapling trees under my care ... and with her growth and mine my love has kept apace! The garden she calls her own have I made my especial care, tending it not only by day, but also by night when none might guess my secret, till the fame of Tertulla’s garden is a proverb! [He pauses a second for breath.] To me she is the breath of life! But.... Eheu! Woe’s me!
Valentinus.
You fear the opposition of Asterius?
Pertinax.
That, doubtless, would be terrible, since, when roused, he blusters like the Adriatic in a storm! However, the more violent the tempest, the shorter-lived! With your all-powerful intercession, Valentinus, Asterius might be reconciled! He might suffer me with my hoardings to buy my freedom, and since, through the merits of the gods and of my ancestors, my name is no less honourable than his own, and since no wooers besiege his door for his blind daughter he might be brought to look with favour on me as a son-in-law! Lies not the trouble there!
Valentinus.
Then where?
Pertinax.
With Tertulla! With the maid herself!
Valentinus.
You mean she holds you in aversion!
Pertinax.
Worse, worse! O by a thousand times worse! Myself as Pertinax she hardly knows, hardly ever has thrown a word to, yet she loves me! More, she worships me!... She thinks me an emissary from the immortal gods, if not, indeed, myself a god!
Valentinus.
You offer riddles to one called Valentinus, not Œdipus!
Pertinax.
Let me unravel it that you may extricate me from the sacrilegious maze in which, all-unheeding, I, wretchedest of men, have lost myself!... Thus did it begin!... But, hark! [Voices are heard in the adjoining room.] She comes! Tertulla!
[In great perturbation he hastily opens the door and passes out.]
Maronis.
[In the adjoining room, parting the curtains.] Come, my honeysuckle-sprig, and talk with the disposer of prodigies who always comforts you!
[Enter Maronis and Quartilla leading Tertulla, a young girl of great beauty. Her hair hangs loose, she wears a chaplet and a white, flowing robe; also her feet are bare, or sandaled. Her general aspect is of one prepared to offer sacrifice. Her eyes are bandaged, and her countenance and voice are sad.]
Tertulla.
Salutations, Valentinus!
Valentinus.
And to you kindly, Tertulla! Whatever you wish I desire it may befall you! [Tertulla sighs.] But wherefore thus deject of countenance?
Quartilla.
I know why!
Tertulla.
Peace, Tilla! At your age how should one comprehend such matters?
Quartilla.
Does one have to be tall as a fig-tree to know that you are bursting with longing for your garden? “Eheu! wretchedest of women I as many as ever have been born! Woe’s me!” [Mimicking her sister.]
Maronis.
It is true. If it were not for the bandage that you, Valentinus, make her wear she would weep so immoderately that she would be turned into a river, like to Ilia, the mother of Romulus and Remus!
Tertulla.
[Explaining.] Always, ever since I was a child, in the days that cut the month of February in twain my father has taken me with him to the country, journeying thither to give directions for the spring work at his farm. But this year, business detaining him in town, he has sent for his overseer to come here to him, instead, and so ... Eheu!
Valentinus.
But the year is young. Barely have the heavens ceased to scatter snow on the Albanian hills. As yet the relaxing earth suffers only the hardiest of her green children to put their noses out of bed! Later you will all go to your father’s villa, avoiding the scorching heat of dog-star days!
Tertulla.
Ah, then it will not be the same! Then will it be too late.
Valentinus.
[Puzzled.] Too late?
Maronis.
[Explaining.] If you were not a deserving but unfortunate Christian, Valentinus, you would not have forgotten that in the days about the Ides of February the young god Faunus, protector of those same green children of the earth, returns from his winter quarters in Arcadia to Italy!
Valentinus.
[Remembering.] Ah, true! Nevertheless.... [Still puzzled.]
Maronis.
[Continuing.] And Tertulla is wonted to celebrate the feast of the Faunalia at the villa, offering sacrifice in her garden to the two-horned god!
Tertulla.
It is indeed so!
[Pertinax opens the door softly a crack and peeps in, seen only by Valentinus.]
Valentinus.
I begin to understand! Well, since Tertulla cannot go to the country perhaps the country will come to Tertulla!
Quartilla.
[Dancing about gleefully.] A miracle! A prodigy! I said Valentinus would work one and set things right!
Valentinus.
My child, I promise nothing! But Tertulla must remember that true sacrifices can be made anywhere, in country or in town!
Maronis.
[To Tertulla.] Aha, girl! Have I not worn out my tongue telling you as much all day?
Tertulla.
But will the god hear, missing me from my accustomed place?
Valentinus.
No honest petition ever goes unheeded anywhere!
Maronis.
[Nodding approval.] Another statement of my own, and therefore full of wisdom!
Tertulla.
[To Valentinus.] Oh, how you comfort me! And yet ... there is something further!
Quartilla.
[Excited.] Aha! A secret!
Tertulla.
But not for your ears, O little pitcher of two handles! Go from us awhile!
Quartilla.
[Pouting.] As usual when things grow interesting: “Quartilla, leave us!” But this time Valentinus will have to use magic to make me budge!
Valentinus.
Alas! No sorcerer am I! Yet, perhaps.... Hark!
Quartilla.
What do you hear?
Valentinus.
Surely not the first swallow, returning on the wings of the bird-wind, and seeking where to build a nest! Up, Tilla! Let us see! [Mounting the bench he draws her up, then lifts her to the window.]
Quartilla.
Oh, the wee darling, flitting from plane to cypress, cypress back to plane! And, see! There goes a man with a ring-dove in a cage! Come, Maronis! We’ll go buy it of him! [Assisted by Valentinus she scrambles down and runs out into the lane.]
Maronis.
Oh, what a runabout! I should have wings to my feet like Mercury to keep up with her! [She follows Quartilla out.]
Tertulla.
Are we alone?... How wonderful you are! All your perhapses come to pass!
Valentinus.
Perhaps I only “perhaps” when I see events well on their advancing road!
Tertulla.
But never do they turn down a side street! Never do they lose their way! Always they come, straight as a bow-shot, to the door! Everyone else said, “Afflicted of the gods for over-much grieving Tertulla will never see again!” But you ... you said, “I promise nothing, yet perhaps....” And, now, though you will not suffer me to test it, I feel that my eyes have been born again; that I can see!
Valentinus.
Hush!
Tertulla.
Oh, never fear; I will keep my vow, not, without your permission, to reveal this to mortal ears! But I, I know that so it is! Accordingly when you say, “Since Tertulla cannot go to the country perhaps the country will come to Tertulla,” I feel sure that, in spite of inauspicious beginnings, all will yet be well! And indeed, strangely, ever since I set foot in the room my nostrils have been filled with the accustomed fragrances from my garden; my spirit has received the message of spring from her harbingers: the hardy rose, and early flowering almond; the branches of a forth-putting cherry-tree on a sunny slope, and bloom of narcissus and violet from the nurseries! But Faunus ... Faunus himself! Will he, as is his wont, reveal himself in this place, to his handmaiden? That, Valentinus, is my great secret! To no one heretofore have I disclosed it! [Again the door is cautiously opened, and Pertinax peeps in.] Every year in these days the god Faunus himself has accepted my sacrifice in person, promising me protection for my flowers through the coming season, a promise which has been miraculously redeemed! Work a wonder for me, good Valentinus! Bring it to pass that the god will reveal himself here, no less than in the country, to his handmaiden! [Pertinax enters softly; sighs.] What! do I hear his footstep cross the threshold with a sound as of the favouring breeze of spring? Faunus! Faunus! Do you see him, Valentinus? You could not mistake him, with his youthful countenance of great beauty, his two horns, and feet like those of a goat that he may skip lightly over the hills!
Valentinus.
No such one is manifest to my sight, Tertulla!
Tertulla.
And yet ... and yet.... O Faunus, if indeed it be you, speak! [With palms turned upward.]
Pertinax.
[Sighs.] The one who always comes to you at this season stands before you now, Tertulla!
Tertulla.
[Ecstatically.] You hear! Valentinus! You hear?... Mark then, how great the prodigy when the god comes, invisible to mortal eyes! O Faunus, had I expected this I would have brought the cheese and almond cakes and little tarts you love!
Valentinus.
These shall not be wanting! [Places Quartilla’s basket in Tertulla’s hand.]
Tertulla.
O happy omen! Deign to accept them, deity! [Pertinax helps himself from the basket.] But you do not partake of them as wontedly. [Pertinax, encouraged by a kindly smile from Valentinus, eats.] That is better! Now Tertulla knows that you look on her with favour! And my garden, Faunus; as heretofore you will grant me abundance of bloom interspersed with grateful shade of strawberry tree and sycamore? And linden dear to honey-gathering bee?
Pertinax.
As heretofore, Tertulla!
Tertulla.
And my friends, the flowers: crocus, and anemone, and the blossom springing from the blood of Hyacinth—?
Pertinax.
[Always eating little cakes, which Tertulla keeps offering him.] These, and the twining ivy, source of poetic inspiration!
Tertulla.
And viburnum, beloved of wayfarers, and sleep-bringing poppies?
Pertinax.
And violet sweet-scented, and the short-lived lily.
Tertulla.
And the amaranth the never-fading! You see he has taught me all their habits and their stories, Valentinus!... And the rose and myrtle beloved of Venus?
Pertinax.
These, these above all!
Tertulla.
[Clasping hand ecstatically.] O wonderful!... And the box trees cut into strange figures that I can pass my hands over: centurions with eagles on their helmets?
Pertinax.
And chariots in the circus!
Tertulla.
And gladiators fighting?
Pertinax.
And the sharp prows of sea-conquering galleys!
Tertulla.
Is it not wonderful, Valentinus? But the god has ceased to eat! Ah, Tertulla was forgetting! The libation! [Claps hands.] Wine! Bring wine, Nerva!
Pertinax.
[Alarmed.] It is not necessary, Tertulla!
Tertulla.
Nothing shall be omitted that pleases Faunus! Ho, Nerva!
Nerva.
[Appears between curtains.] Nerva here, Nerva there! Who calls Nerva now?
Tertulla.
Impudent and brazen one! Bring a goblet of honied wine! My father’s best!
Nerva.
Wine! Honied wine! What next! [He goes.]
Pertinax.
[Who fled hastily at Nerva’s approach.] There are occasions when one may dispense with such ceremonies!
Tertulla.
Nothing shall be lacking from the feast, not only as propitiation for favours hoped for, but in gratitude for benefits received! Bethink you how wonderful the scroll you have spread out before me, painting the dark chambers of my spirit with blossoms of many colours, and filling my life with sweet savours, and with fancies no less sweet!
Pertinax.
Asteria Tertia, I speak truly in saying that at too high a value do you estimate the service I, all-joyful, have rendered you! Your own imagination divinely gifted is the Apelles that has so pleasingly depicted the wonders of nature, heightened, I grant you, by assiduous cultivation, in a manner to adorn the chambers of your spirit!
Tertulla.
My imagination is even as my garden that had lain a fallow waste fit only for the hunting ground of hoarse-baying wolves had not Faunus taken it under his divine protection!... And now this present miracle is indeed reserved for me alone? You, keen-sighted Valentinus, you do not mock me with vain words, saying that you do not discern the form of the god? Not a single feature?
Valentinus.
Only as all created things are manifestations of the divine, Tertulla!
Tertulla.
Marvelous! But wherefore tarries Nerva with the libation?
Nerva.
[Entering.] Here’s your wine! I had to climb up to the wine-cellar to find a proper vintage! All mixed with our choicest honey, too! [As Pertinax has retreated at the sound of his voice he sees Tertulla standing in an attitude of adoration before empty space, and pauses to stare at her.] Well, now, what project is the girl on now?
Tertulla.
Enter, Nerva, fearlessly! Your dull eyes will perceive no unexpected presence!
Nerva.
Truly a clever speech! [He sets down the goblet, lingering to sniff at it.] M-m-m! One would think certain persons were soldiers celebrating the victory of the godlike Claudius over Goths and Allemanes! By Bacchus, there are times when I could wish myself a persecuted Christian! [He goes. Pertinax returns.]
Tertulla.
[Lifts the goblet from the table and holds it toward Pertinax.] Take it, Faunus, from thy handmaiden! [Pertinax obeys, drinking the wine.]
Valentinus.
[Smiling.] Ahem! Not so were libations poured in my ante-Christian days!
Tertulla.
[Explaining.] Faunus likes it best that way rather than spilled upon the ground!
Valentinus.
Not without reason! The vintage of Asterius is famed!
Tertulla.
And now, O Deity, listen, while I reveal to you my great secret known only to Valentinus here!
Valentinus.
[Starting up, interposing.] Tertulla, forbear! Remember your vow!
Tertulla.
[Assenting.] Not without your permission to tell any living mortal! But....
Valentinus.
Then, till I give you leave, forbear!
Tertulla.
[Impetuously.] But, Valentinus ... that will not be breaking faith! Faunus is no mortal! Faunus is a god! Faunus, he has cured me! Valentinus here has cured me! I can see! I can see!
[Impetuously she tears the bandage from her eyes.]
Pertinax.
[Startled and terrified.] What!... Ah, woe is me, accursed of Jupiter and sport of men! [Throwing away the now emptied goblet he rushes out, by the door.]
Tertulla.
[Hands up to her dazzled eyes.] Ah! The light!... [Valentinus restores the bandage, binding it gently on again.] Faunus!... What happened, Valentinus?... Why did the god cry out? And has he gone? Eheu! Oh, woe! Is he angry with poor Tertulla?
Valentinus.
Not angry; only taken by surprise!
Tertulla.
But surely he does not begrudge me vision! Surely he believes that Tertulla seeing will serve him no less faithfully than Tertulla blind!
Maronis.
[Enters running, at the door.] Tulla ... I heard Tulla who cried out! Has aught befallen Tulla?
Valentinus.
It is nothing! Take her where she may rest awhile!
Maronis.
Come, then, my honeysuckle-sprig! Come with Maronis!
Quartilla.
[Entering, with a bird-cage.] We bought the dove! Oh, is my sister ill? I’ll give it to her to cheer her! [Follows after Tertulla who is being led off by Maronis.]
Tertulla.
[Breaks from Maronis, returns to Valentinus. Whispers.] Faunus ... you’ll seek him, and plead with him for me?
Valentinus.
I promise nothing, but I’ll do my best!
Tertulla.
[Reassured.] Ah, then, I know it will come out right! [She goes with Maronis and Quartilla.]
Pertinax.
[Returns.] O woe, woe! A plague may all the gods and goddesses send upon you for a Thessalian sorcerer! O gladly with these two hands would I choke you like a noxious nettle and cast you out to extreme and uttermost perdition, so abominably by our arts in restoring sight to Tertulla have you destroyed my happiness!
Valentinus.
Is that word worthy of an incarnate god?
Pertinax.
You speak truly! Blameworthy am I alone! By my impious and sacrilegious act I have upset my apple-waggon for all eternity! I am a wretch, one born with all the gods my foes! [He throws himself into a chair and covers his face with his cloak.]
Nerva.
[Entering.] Ho, Valentinus! Your company is much demanded in these days it would seem! Maronis asks that you will give a soothing potion to Tertulla who is restless as the wind that blows between the old moon and the new!
Valentinus.
Willingly! [He goes.]
Nerva.
[Noticing the door which Pertinax entering left ajar.] By Jupiter, for a prison we keep open house! [Taking a key from his girdle he locks the door.] I will kill two flies with one flap, preventing thieves from entering and jail-birds from taking flight! [Turning to go he notices Pertinax.] What, is the lyre of Anacreon unstrung?
Pertinax.
[Angrily.] Silence, brazen one!
Nerva.
Oh, if my conversation is not desired I will even stop my mouth, so great my zeal to please! [He helps himself to little cakes. Suddenly the door is tried from without.] Hear that! My precaution was none too soon! [There is a violent knocking on the door.] Knock away, whoever you may be! My motto is the same as that of the great Fabius, “Hasten slowly!”
Asterius.
[Outside.] Open! Open! Open, I say!
Pertinax.
[Looks up.] It is Asterius! In this state bordering on distraction I cannot meet him! [Goes out.]
Nerva.
[In a panic.] My master! [Hastens to open the door.]
Asterius.
Why in the daytime is the door locked?
Nerva.
Master, is it not a prison?
Asterius.
Shameless one and well named Nerva on account of strength of tongue, have I not allowed the freedom of the lane by day to my prisoner for exercise? [Threatens him with walking-stick.] A thousand lashes if ever again you so disobey me!
Nerva.
[Going.] Oh, very well! Only one might think you not unwilling that your prisoner should extend his exercise, going to join his comrades who hide in the Catacombs!
Asterius.
[Going for Nerva.] Now, get you from me to perdition everlasting! [Nerva runs off. Asterius looks about.] Ho, Valentinus! Kindly saluta.... What! The door was locked too late, it seems!... Now, may the gods be praised, for it grieves me to detain so holy a man ... in which I am more of a well-wisher to him than to myself!... [Valentinus enters.] Not so, however, it seems!... Ah, Valentinus! Save you! I was just about to give the alarm, thinking you a fugitive!
Valentinus.
Kindly greetings, Asterius!... Oh, I could not so take advantage of the most confiding of jailors! I was with Tertulla!
Asterius.
[With anxiety.] My child is not ill again? [Valentinus signifies that this is not the case.] The gods reward you for what you have done in bringing her to health! My poor afflicted child! [Sighs heavily.]
Valentinus.
Tertulla may yet find happiness! [Asterius again sighs, thinking this impossible. Valentinus lifts a spray of blossoms to inhale its fragrance.] Your overseer, Pertinax, is here; a youth of a hundred accomplishments, it seems!
Asterius.
A deserving fellow! I bought him, as you know, from gratitude, but never have I repented me of the investment! Never does he give orders to hoe the barley in wet weather or cheat me in the number of elm and poplar saplings needed to prop up the vines!
Valentinus.
And the generous Asterius will no doubt soon reward him with his freedom!
Asterius.
[In pleased surprise.] Now how marvellous that you should perceive a thought that as yet has hardly come to the surface of my own mind! [Again Valentinus makes a deprecating gesture.] I only wait some fitting opportunity, some general rejoicing, to bring about this matter!
Valentinus.
What better than the recovery of the daughter he in a day gone by rescued from the funeral flames?
Asterius.
Felicitous omen! It shall be done immediately! [He claps his hands.] Ho, Pertinax!... Nerva, summon my household! [Pertinax enters, then Nerva.]
Valentinus.
Softly! Let us go softly! [Tertulla enters with Maronis followed by Quartilla.] First, Tertulla has something to tell her father!
Asterius.
[Arms out to Tertulla.] My child! My poor, afflicted child! Well, what has she to tell me: that good Valentinus has made her strong and well again?
Tertulla.
Oh, more ... far more than that! Look, father....
Valentinus.
[Interposing.] Wait! [He loosens the bandage that Tertulla still wears.] Give me what you hold, Maronis! [Maronis hands him a mirror with a handle, worn at her girdle.] Keep your eyes closed, Tulla! [He holds the mirror in front of her.] Now ... what see you? [Great general excitement.]
Tertulla.
[Looks with interest into mirror.] Oh ... why ... it is a painting of one of my older sisters!
Valentinus.
What! A pretty girl who does not recognise her own face!