It was damp with an unhealthy sweat.

His hands and frame were quivering as if in an ague.

He seated himself on a stone bench by the roadway, and tried to collect his faculties.
"Bear up, Drusus; be a Livian, as you boast yourself," he declaimed frantically to himself.

"Cornelia shall still be yours! All things are possible to one who is young and strong, with a clear conscience!" If this self-debate did not actually stimulate cheerfulness, it at least revived the embers of hope; and Drusus found himself trying to look the situation fairly in the face.
"You have thrown away your right to marry the dearest, loveliest, and noblest girl in the world," he reflected bitterly.

"You have made an implacable enemy of one of the most powerful men of the state.