“Our lives are what we make them, O Agrippina.”
“True. There are those who smile at grief.”
“Where are thy daughters Drusilla and Julia?”
“They are with Antonia.”
“But this day I have chosen their husbands.”
“Couldst thou not have consulted me before making thy choice?”
“’Twould have been useless. Even if we might have consulted, thou wouldst have had thine objections.”
“Ay, my objections to the villain thou didst choose for Agrippina were well founded,” she said with deep feeling.
“Cneius Domitius is descended from honorable and illustrious ancestors,” replied Tiberius.
“The ancestors of Domitius[4] are not to be blamed for his vicious nature. Did his ancestors ever kill a freedman because he refused to drink more than he could hold? Did his ancestors riding in their chariots cruelly and purposely drive over children, crushing them to pieces? Where is there in the record of the family of Aenobrarbi one who thrust out the eyes of Roman knights in small quarrels? But who are these men that thou hast chosen?”