“Other people do not think much about them in any way,” replied Cicero. “But that is not the case with me. To me they are all saints and gods. Domenica is a holy name, which praises the Lord. Giovedi (Tuesday) is the day of Jove, and that is a glorious name. Evviva Giove! So it is with them all; and were I rich enough, I would build a temple to the days of the week wherein to worship them.”
“That money shall not be wanting, O thou happy man!” replied the lady. “Knowest thou who we are? We are the Seven Days of the Week; and for what thou hast said of me, every Friday thou shalt find a hundred gold crowns under thy pillow. And when thou needest any special favour, then pray to us all.”
And as he heard the last word Cicero fell asleep. When he awoke he was alone in the ruin, but by him was a purse with one hundred crowns in gold.
Then in time Cicero built the temple, as he had promised, to Venus, and in it he placed all the images of the seven gods. Then whoever wanted a favour invoked those deities, as indeed did Cicero when he needed aught; and those gods were the seven youths, and those youths whom he had found in the hall were the days of the week.
Then for a time Cicero lived in happiness. But something came to disturb it, for one morning he saw at a window near by a young lady of such marvellous beauty that he was as if enchanted, nor was she less pleased with him.
“Tell me, thou splendid star,” said Cicero, “the very truth now passing in thy mind. Dost thou love me?”
“In very truth,” she replied, “I do love thee. O Cicero, but thou lovest only to lose, for this day I am to leave Rome never to return, unless thou canst by some miracle so manage it as to prevent the journey, and keep me here!”
Then Cicero went to the Temple of the Days and conjured them thus:
“Lunedi e Marte! (Martedi.)
Fai che la stella mia non parta!
Mercurio e Giove!
Fai che la stella non mova!”“Monday and Tuesday,
I pray you cause my love to remain!
Wednesday and Thursday,
Let her not move!
Venus, thou who art the fairest day,
The one whom I most adore!
Thou who hast put me in the way of wealth,
And unto whom I truly built a temple,
As I did promise in the bygone time,
And as thou thyself didst promise,
That if I needed aught, and came to thee,
My wishes should be granted, now I pray
To Venus and to Saturn—Saturday,
That as I have no peace, and none can know,
Till I have won the maid, give her to me!
And thou, O Sunday, when the wedding comes,
I pray thee give her to me with thy hand!”
Then a voice from the depth of the temple replied: