[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.