PROCULUS
Truly!
ROMULUS
Tiberius is an old miser who doesn’t give the least largesse to the people of Rome. Would you believe it, it’s reached the point that I don’t have a copper in my pocket? I still need a little to purchase a new tunic.
PROCULUS (smiling)
Indeed.
ROMULUS
Moreover, I rented a room on the eighth floor in a suburb. The house was very ugly and the street very smelly. At night, you could hear the songs of singers and the howling of dogs. I was surrounded by whores, little Greeks, unemployed grammarians, beggars who spoiled sheep with garlic. I have for a neighbor a mountebank who contrived to cripple a little girl to make tours on the Sublicius bridge. In short, I was horribly bad, but I have simple tastes, and I contented myself with this modest support when my landlord, an Israelite merchant put me out the door—me, a citizen of Rome, because I hadn’t paid my rent. Now that’s what happens friend, under the reign of Tiberius.
PROCULUS
Ah, it’s intolerable!
ROMULUS
You laugh, yes, but I am very serious and will end by making Tiberius repent of his avarice. Because we are all powerful, the rest of us, the Citizens of Rome; it’s for us to enjoy everything without paying for anything! The Aediles owe us games, Triumphs, money; the Magistrates, wheat; when one is noble or knight they mock the little folk, these men in tunics, but come election day, these fine gentlemen all us by our names, press our hands, buy our votes; the Tribunes pay court to us, and the Caesars care for us. Thus we are like three hundred thousand stockholders at the expense of the state in the city of Rome.
Do you imagine that, on the day we get angry, Tiberius won’t tremble in all his members?
PROCULUS
Friend, forget Tiberius who is stronger.
ROMULUS
As for me, I intend that he pay his debts. Augustus bequeathed to the Roman people 45 million sesterces in his will. Tiberius, his heir still owes them to us.
(Procula turns and notices Kiomara, who stops with an old geezer she’s leading.)
PROCULUS (pointing her out to Romulus)
Silence.
(Kiomara and the old man leave.)
ROMULUS
What’s wrong with you? There you are, troubled by two passers-by, crossing the square.
PROCULUS (lowering his voice)
Heavens, one more time: forget Tiberius and find another means to fill your empty pocket.
ROMULUS
Such as?
PROCULUS
Work for me as an apprentice.
ROMULUS
Hammers, filings, the stench of copper. Yuck! Won’t you ever understand the dignity of a Roman Citizen?
PROCULUS
Then let me loan you some money.
ROMULUS
To borrow from the purse of a barbarian!
PROCULUS
From that of a friend.
ROMULUS
My friendship doesn’t go that far.
PROCULUS
All the same—
ROMULUS
Don’t insist—you’ll insult me.
ROMULUS
At your ease, ragamuffin Lord.
PROCULUS
I am no less grateful, my dear friend. But, I’m not worried, go. Jupiter, who protects me, will end by sending me some good windfall.
(Nerva emerges from his palace with Blandine and Chariclea.)
PROCULUS
Shut up!
NERVA
Blandine, my cherished daughter, go pray to the Gods of Rome that they render Rome glorious.
BLANDINE (aside)
The Gods of Rome!
NERVA (low to Chariclea)
Chariclea, you are taking her to the Temple of Vesta, aren’t you?
CHARICLEA
Yes, master.
NERVA (low)
The Temple is the place of asylum, and as it’s possible there may be tumult in the city—don’t leave it. I will come to get you myself. You quite understand me—and you will obey?
CHARICLEA
Yes, Lord.
NERVA (to Blandine)
Hug me one more. Till soon, dear daughter. I love you with the tenderness of a mother.
(aside)
In a few moments, she’ll be safe. Now that you no longer have to tremble for her, to work, old Roman.
(returns to his palace.)
BLANDINE (low to Chariclea)
Ah, good nurse—it’s frightful to deceive one’s father like this. When will I be able to tell him everything?
CHARICLEA
Patience, my child. It’s one of those pious fibs that heaven pardons. But, how will we do it? Your father believes we are going to the Temple of Vesta, and forbids us to leave because there might be some tumult in Rome.
BLANDINE
A danger threatens him, perhaps. Oh—my place is beside him. I’m staying.
CHARICLEA
Blandine, it’s the hour that the holy old man is waiting for us.
BLANDINE
Let’s leave then. But, we’ll return quickly.
(They both leave)
PROCULA
