"Humph!" said M. de Peyrehorade; "yes, that is an admissible interpretation; but, without wishing to displease you, I prefer the first translation, and I will tell you why. You know who Venus's lover was?" "There were several." "Yes, but the chief one was Vulcan. Should one not rather say, 'In spite of all thy beauty and thy scornful manner, thou shalt have for thy lover a blacksmith, a hideous cripple'? What a profound moral, Monsieur, for flirts!" I could hardly help smiling at this far-fetched explanation. "Latin is a difficult tongue, because of its concise expression," I remarked, to avoid contradicting my antiquarian friend outright; and I stepped further away to see the statue better. "One moment, colleague," said M. de Peyrehorade, seizing me by the arm, "you have not seen everything. There is still another inscription. Climb up on the pedestal and look at the right arm." And saying this, he helped me up. I held on to the neck of the Venus unceremoniously, and began to make myself better acquainted with her. I only looked at her for a moment, right in the face, and I found her still more wicked, and still more beautiful. Then I discovered that there were some written characters in an ancient, running hand, it seemed to me, engraved on the arm. With the help of spectacles I spelt out the following, whilst M. de Peyrehorade repeated every word as soon as pronounced, with approving gesture and voice. It read thus:-- _VENERI TVRBVL ..._ _EVTYCHES MYRO_ _IMPERIO FECIT._ After the word _TVRBVL_ in the first line, I thought some letters had been effaced; but _TVRBVL_ was perfectly legible. "What do you say to that?" asked my host, radiantly smiling with malice, for he knew very well that I could not easily extricate myself from this _TVRBVL_. "I cannot explain that word yet," I said to him; "all the rest is easy. By his order Eutyches Myro made this great offering to Venus." "Good. But what do you make of _TVRBVL_? What is _TVRBVL_?" "_TVRBVL_ puzzles me greatly; I cannot think of any epithet applied to Venus which might assist me. Stay, what do you say to _TVRBVLENTA_? Venus, who troubles and disturbs.... You notice I am all the time thinking of her malignant expression. _TVRBVLENTA_ would not be at all a bad epithet for Venus," I added modestly, for I was not myself quite satisfied with my explanation. "Venus the turbulent! Venus the broiler! Ah! you think, then, that my Venus is a Venus of the pot-house? Nothing of the kind, Monsieur. She is a Venus belonging to the great world. And now I will expound to you this _TVRBVL_.... You will at least promise not to divulge my discovery before my treatise is published. I shall become famous, you see, by this find.... You must leave us poor provincial devils a few ears to glean. You Parisian savants are rich enough." From the top of the pedestal, where I still perched, I solemnly promised that I would never be so dishonourable as to steal his discovery.