“How I long for the stables at the Circus!” cries Aldo. “The horses my master trained at Casinum are the finest beasts that ever appeared at Rome. He will win the race this day!”
“Thinkest thou so? ’Tis the first race he has run since he fled from the city with thee.”
“Ah, my lady, he was not idle at Casinum. No one can equal my master. The horses may become frightened, but he will be able to hold them.”
“Would that I were less nervous! I cannot look at the Circus without becoming faint. The race must soon be over.”
“Nay, my lady; we have not heard the sound of victory.”
“Ah, Aldo, I fear thy master has lost.”
“Have no fear, my lady; the cheers will come.”
The little woman begins to walk nervously around the corridor. Will he win? Will he lose? These are the questions that torment her mind. He had left her at noonday, filled with cheering hopes. He had kissed her and had said: “Ah, little heart, this night we ought to be far richer. I have the winning horses, and everything is propitious. A fair portion of the prize I will bestow upon Hermes if he but guides mine arms!” As the moments pass by, the little woman tears a flower which she holds in her hand. She stops again by Aldo and says, “He has lost!” Suddenly a faint sound is heard, gradually increasing, until a violent cheer rends the air. “He has won! he has won!” screams the little woman. “Nana! he has won!”
The good, faithful old Nana comes into the corridor and adds her enthusiasm to that of her mistress.
“By Hermes! said I not so, my lady?” cries Aldo, with tears of joy running down his cheeks.