You dissemble well.' 'I am not far gone enough for that,' returned Glaucus, smiling, 'or rather I say with Tibullus-- He whom love rules, where'er his path may be, Walks safe and sacred.
In fact, I am not in love; but I could be if there were but occasion to see the object.

Eros would light his torch, but the priests have given him no oil.' 'Shall I guess the object ?--Is it not Diomed's daughter?
She adores you, and does not affect to conceal it; and, by Hercules, I say again and again, she is both handsome and rich.

She will bind the door-posts of her husband with golden fillets.' 'No, I do not desire to sell myself.

Diomed's daughter is handsome, I grant: and at one time, had she not been the grandchild of a freedman, I might have...

Yet no--she carries all her beauty in her face; her manners are not maiden-like, and her mind knows no culture save that of pleasure.' 'You are ungrateful.