[Advancing.] Master ... I mean, Asterius; as one freedman and landed proprietor to another I ask your daughter Asteria Tertia in marriage!
Asterius.
[Nearly speechless with wrath.] What! Do my ears play me tricks? This ... this ... this scum asks ... Tertulla....
Pertinax.
My blood, Asterius, is not ignoble! I was not bought from a dealer’s cage in the market! I am no tippler at the hot liquor shops, or gossiper in the ante-room, like certain ones! [Looking at Nerva who is stifling his mirth at the anger of Asterius.] I have some scholarship, and, as you should know, no little agricultural skill! And if the maid should not look on me with disfavour....
Asterius.
Away with you to extreme and uttermost perdition! May you be buffeted with fists....
Nerva.
[Enjoying this, echoes.] Buffeted with fists!
Asterius.