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.