“The hour is approaching when I may hope to repay the beneficent deeds, which, at various times, you have done to my interior. My mother will to-morrow morning, set before you that dish of cabbage. It could not be done sooner, because the only perfect sausage-maker, the very king of his trade, prepares these savory cylinders only once a week. A few hours ago he completed the making of the sausages, and to-morrow morning my mother will warm up for our breakfasts the noble mess, which she is preparing for us this evening--for, as I have told you, it is in its warmed-up state that it is the ideal of its kind. What will follow by way of sweets we shall owe again to my mother’s art; but the cheering and invigorating element--I mean the wine that I drives dull care away, we owe to my sister.” “I will come,” said Pontius, “if my guest leaves me an hour free, and I shall enjoy the excellent dish. But what does a gay bird like you know of dull care?” “The words fit into the metre,” replied Pollux. “I inherit from my father--who, when he is not gate-keeping, sings and recites--a troublesome tendency whenever anything incites me to drift into rhythm.” “But to-day you have been more silent than usual, and yet you seemed to me to be extraordinarily content. Not your face only, but your whole length--a good measure--from the sole of your foot to the crown of your head was like a brimming cask of satisfaction.” “Well, there is much that is lovely in this world!” cried Pollux, stretching himself comfortably and lifting his arms with his hands clasped far above his head towards heaven. “Has anything specially pleasant happened to you?” “There is no need for that! Here I live in excellent company, the work progresses, and--well, why should I deny it? There was something specially to mark to-day; I met an old acquaintance again.” “An old one?” “I have already known her sixteen years; but when I first saw her she was in swaddling clothes.” “Then this venerable damsel friend is more than sixteen, perhaps seventeen! Is Eros the friend of the happy, or does happiness only follow in his train?” As the architect thoughtfully said these words to himself, Pollux listened attentively to a noise outside, and said: “Who can be passing out there at this hour? Do you not hear the bark of a big dog mingle with the snapping of the three Graces?” “It is Titianus conducting the architect from Rome,” replied Pontius excitedly.