“My dear, I am not a philosopher and never wish to be one. Come, we have brought the Imperial retinue for taking you back.”
“Whither? To your house in the Carinæ?”
“Oh, my Domitia! How ridiculous! Of course you go to the Palatine, to your proper place. My dear, you will be proclaimed Augusta, and receive worship as a divinity. The Senate are only pausing to adjudge you a goddess, to know whether the Emperor intends to repudiate you or no. It is absolutely necessary that you come back with me.”
“My godhead is determined by the question whether I be divorced or not!” exclaimed Domitia contemptuously. “I cannot go with you, mother.”
“Then,” said Duilia, looking carefully about, “that jade, big-boned and ugly as a mule—you know to whom I refer, will get the upper hand, and your nose will be broken.”
“Mother, I ask but to be left alone.”
“I will not suffer it. By my maternal authority——”
“Alas, mother! I have passed out of that—I did so at my marriage.”
“Well then, in your own interest.”
“If I consider that I remain here.”