Had she not urged him on?
Had she not almost expressed her wish for Drusus's blood?
The name of Flaccus fell on his heart like a stone; for the great banker never went back when he had taken a stand, and was rich enough to corrupt the most lax and merciful jury.

Ahenobarbus felt a trap snap upon him, and yet he had no hope of revenge.
"Cornelia," cried Lentulus, regaining at last the powers of speech, "why was this letter sent to you?
What to you is that wretched youth, Quintus Drusus, who escaped a fate he richly deserved?
Why do you not condole with your lover on his misfortune?
What do you mean by your stony stare, your--" "I mean," retorted Cornelia, every word coming as a deep pant from her heaving chest, while her fingers clasped and unclasped nervously, and the blood surged to her pallid cheeks, "I mean that I need no longer profess to love what I hate; to cherish what I despise; to fondle what I loathe; to cast soft looks on that which I would pierce with daggers!" And she in turn took a step, quick and menacing, toward her wretched lover, who cowered and shrank back into the shadow of a pillar.
"But you yourself said you hoped I would soon rid you of Drusus," howled Lucius.
"Fool!" hissed the woman, through her clenched teeth.

"Didn't you know that all that I said, all that I did, all that I thought, was for this end--how might I save Quintus by learning the plans of the wretch who thirsted for his blood?
Do you feel paid, now, for all your labours to secure the wealth of a man whose name should not be uttered beside that of yours ?" "And you do not love me!" screamed Ahenobarbus, springing at her, as if to force his arms around her neck.
"Dog!" and Cornelia smote him so fairly in the face that he shrank back, and pressed his hand to a swelling cheek.

"I said I hated and despised you.

What I despise, though, is beneath my hate.