Publius first untied a thread, then unfolded a small piece of white linen, and came at last to an object wrapped in a bit of flimsy, cheap papyrus. When this last envelope was removed, the bracelet was in fact discovered, and under it lay a small wax tablet. Lysias was by no means pleased with this discovery, and looked disconcerted and annoyed at the return of his gift; but he soon mastered his vexation, and said turning to his friend, who was not in the least maliciously triumphant, but who stood looking thoughtfully at the ground. "Here is something on the little tablet--the sauce no doubt to the peppered dish she has set before me." "Still, eat it," interrupted Publius. "It may do you good for the future." Lysias took the tablet in his hand, and after considering it carefully on both sides he said: "It belongs to the sculptor, for there is his name. And there--why she has actually spiced the sauce or, if you like it better the bitter dose, with verses. They are written more clearly than beautifully, still they are of the learned sort." "Well?" asked the Roman with curiosity, as Lysias read the lines to himself; the Greek did not look up from the writing but sighed softly, and rubbing the side of his finely-cut nose with his finger he replied: "Very pretty, indeed, for any one to whom they are not directly addressed. Would you like to hear the distich?" "Read it to me, I beg of you." "Well then," said the Corinthian, and sighing again he read aloud; 'Sweet is the lot of the couple whom love has united; But gold is a debt, and needs must at once be restored.' "There, that is the dose. But doves are not human creatures, and I know at once what my answer shall be. Give me the fibula, Publius, that clasps that cloak in which you look like one of your own messengers. I will write my answer on the wax." The Roman handed to Lysias the golden circlet armed with a strong pin, and while he stood holding his cloak together with his hands, as he was anxious to avoid recognition by the passers-by that frequented this street, the Corinthian wrote as follows: "When doves are courting the lover adorns himself only; But when a youth loves, he fain would adorn his beloved." "Am I allowed to hear it?" asked Publius, and his friend at once read him the lines; then he gave the tablet to the boy, with the bracelet which he hastily wrapped up again, and desired him to take it back immediately to the fair Irene. But the Roman detained the lad, and laying his hand on the Greek's shoulder, he asked him: "And if the young girl accepts this gift, and after it many more besides--since you are rich enough to make her presents to her heart's content--what then, Lysias?"