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.